Ecclesiastical
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

VOLUME II.

Ecclesiastical
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

FROM THE OPENING OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT TO THE DEATH OF OLIVER CROMWELL.

BY

JOHN STOUGHTON.

VOLUME II.

THE CHURCH OF THE COMMONWEALTH.

London:

JACKSON, WALFORD, AND HODDER,

27, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.

MDCCCLXVII.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

All ecclesiastical power in England having been long before snatched from royal hands, the death of Charles I. produced no effect upon the condition of the Church. The control of its political destinies had from the year 1641 rested with the House of Commons; and with the remnant of that assembly the control continued, when the kingdom became a Commonwealth in name as well as in fact.

The Presbyterians, immediately after Pride's purge, lost their place in the government of this country, upon which the political Independents at once assumed supremacy in the State. Of the old ecclesiastical reformers who belonged to that party, and had made themselves conspicuous in the year 1641, the chief now remaining in power were Oliver Cromwell, Sir Henry Vane,[1] Henry Marten, Oliver St. John, and Sir Arthur Haselrig; and these remarkable men all took their seats[2] at the table of the new Council of State, being installed as members of it in the month of February, 1649. The other persons occupying places beside them were nothing more than satellites. Neither St. John nor Haselrig held any leading position. The former was more a lawyer than a statesman, and his cold nature and reserved disposition gave him neither influence with his equals nor popularity with his inferiors. Haselrig was no less distinguished by his rashness. Having been simply a follower of Pym, he had not, since his master's death, acquired sufficient influence to make himself a leader; and his want of judgment, though it did not exclude him from the council board, left him without much weight in its deliberations.

Vane, Cromwell, and Marten, therefore, were now the English triumvirate. Vane and Marten were staunch republicans. Staunch republicans they had been from the beginning. How far Cromwell was really so—whether indeed he ever could be considered one at all—are questions on which much may be said; but at any rate, the government which he now joined was republican in fact, and to that government, for the present, the majority of Englishmen felt compelled to submit. The patriotism of the new rulers cannot be fairly questioned. The vulgar notion of their selfish ambition appears, when we consider the circumstances in which they were placed, little short of an absurdity; yet there can be no doubt that the majority of the people did not sympathize with them, but only tolerated for a season what they could not altogether prevent.

Before recording what was done by the Council of State, it is fitting to notice somewhat further the character and opinions of the men who mainly guided its deliberations and plans. Marten, who was as distant as[3] possible from being a Puritan, had little liking for the sermons and prayers which at times would be forced upon him, and he most enjoyed himself whilst entertaining friends in the Vale of the White Horse, with hospitalities which must have appeared scandalous in the eyes of his staid and sober compatriots. A man of the world, and, if report speaks justly, a man of licentious habits, he was at the same time honest and genial, and, like many shrewd folks of his class, knew how to behave in the presence of religious people so as not to shock their sensibilities. Cromwell and Vane—in this respect the opposite of Marten—were sincerely religious. The question in reference to the former has been set at rest by the publication of his speeches and correspondence, all of which are plainly animated by a spirit of devout earnestness. Not only on state occasions, when performing his part before the world, not only in intercourse with men of strong puritan feeling, from whom it might be supposed he had some point to gain, but also in the most retired privacies of domestic life, Cromwell expressed sentiments of evangelical piety. That hypocrisy should be carried to such a length, that a man should be so cunning as always to wear a veil of apparent religious sincerity in his most private correspondence, without ever betraying himself, is simply incredible; and besides, the incidental way in which religion is introduced into his letters, shews that it was nothing patched upon a character of a different kind, but something which was part of the very texture of his whole being and his entire life. It is not our province to solve the problem, how certain acts of the puritan general and certain habits of the puritan statesman are to be reconciled with the possession of sincere Christianity; yet we may be allowed, in passing, to observe that such[4] an ugly fact as the Drogheda massacre would be less terrible to Cromwell's contemporaries—to men familiar with the barbarities of the Thirty Years' War and the exploits of Count Tilly—than it is to us. Fanaticism, and what may be termed a fierce prudential policy, had, doubtless, more to do with Cromwell's deeds in Ireland than cruelty of disposition. "I am persuaded," he says, "that this is a righteous judgment of God upon these barbarous wretches, who have imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood, and that it will tend to prevent the effusion of blood for the future." No one can help seeing in these words a revengeful justice excited by the Popish massacres of 1641, like that which would nerve the arm of an English officer when fighting with Sepoys by the well of Cawnpore. There are some parts of Cromwell's political conduct which we will not attempt to defend; we would not avail ourselves for that purpose even of what is said by Lord Bacon on "simulation and dissimulation;" but we do think that, whilst condemning certain forms of statecraft in the policy of the great statesman of the Commonwealth, we ought to allow him the benefit of a comparison with preceding rulers. To mention only Queen Elizabeth, accounted by the Puritans of Cromwell's day as one of the most illustrious sovereigns that ever sat on the throne of England, it may be maintained that her diplomacy, in its strategic cunning, went beyond anything recorded in the life of Oliver Cromwell.[2]

Vane's sincerity cannot be questioned. He might[5] be an enthusiast. His religious opinions might be visionary and wild. A cloudy mysticism might belong to his theology, and enthusiasm might mingle with his devotion; but as to the genuineness of his character, the transparency of his ways, and the pure truthfulness which lived in the centre of his soul, no one acquainted with his history can have any reasonable doubt.

The religion of these two men, however, presented very different aspects. A tinge of mysticism, indeed, is to be detected in the colour of Cromwell's piety; but it is the predominant hue of Vane's whole life. Vane could rise to heights of philosophical speculation, which Cromwell had no power and no desire to reach. Nothing strikes us more than the robust English common sense of Cromwell's mind, compared with which that of Vane appears full of German transcendentalism. Vane, no doubt, had a theory of church polity, as well as of secular government, more complete, more consistent, and more accurately wrought out than Cromwell ever held; but he had far less of that inward mysterious force which, working outwardly, wins the mastery over others—far less of that inexplicable secret which makes a man, in the judgment of posterity, a king of men.

In ecclesiastical politics, Cromwell and Vane were agreed; and, so far as they walked in that path, Marten accompanied them. All three were as anti-presbyterian as they were anti-episcopal, and hated the spiritual despotism of synods as much as they did the rule of Archbishop Laud. They were pledged to toleration, and wished to give full play to the activity of the sects, so far as was consistent with the stability of the new government. Vane could well elaborate the philosophy of religious freedom; but Marten, perhaps, advanced still further in relation to its exercise. He reached practical con[6]clusions which were thought to imply religious indifference, though the same conclusions are now firmly held by many, the earnestness of whose piety none would question. In a petition presented to the House of Commons in 1648, and generally attributed to his pen, these passages occur: "That you would have exempted matters of religion and God's worship from the compulsive or restrictive power of any authority upon earth, and reserved to the supreme authority an uncompulsive power only of appointing a way for the public, whereby abundance of misery, persecution, and heart-burning would for ever be avoided." "That you would have removed the tedious burden of tithes, satisfying all impropriations, and providing a more equal way of maintenance for the public ministers." In the same tone reference is made to the laws against blasphemy and heresies; men, it is said, being easily mistaken, and Divine truths not needing human support.[3]

An extraordinary crisis had now arrived in ecclesiastical affairs. The fate of the Church had become subject almost entirely to the will of three men, one of whom was an utter worldling, another a spiritual theorist, and the third an evangelical Independent, and at the same time a man full of political sagacity.

A declaration of Parliament, stating the grounds of their late proceedings, and the republican nature of the present government, appeared in the month of March.[4] The document entered fully into a defence of the measures which had issued in this result; but the authors[7] were exceedingly cautious in their ecclesiastical references. They state that their design had been to deliver England from tyranny, to prevent a new war, to establish a safe peace, and to provide for the due worship of God according to His word, the advancement of the true Protestant religion, the maintenance of godly ministers, and "a just liberty for the consciences, persons, and estates of all men, conformable to God's glory and their own peace."[5]

These vague expressions are remarkable, especially when it is remembered that the declaration, though published by Parliament, must have emanated from the Council of State. In reference to the doctrine of toleration, it lagged behind the "Agreement of the People of England," a document which is ascribed to General Ireton, and which was presented in the name of the army to the House of Commons in January, a few days before the King's execution. For that political and ecclesiastical manifesto, whilst it recognized the national profession of Christianity and the duty of publicly instructing the people, adds the significant words, "so it be not compulsive;" and also, whilst it excluded Popery and Prelacy from toleration, and approved of the maintenance of religious teachers out of the public treasury, it also protested against perpetuating tithes, enforcing religion by penalties, and the disturbing of those who "profess faith in God by Jesus Christ, however differing in judgment from the doctrine, worship, or discipline publicly held forth," provided they did not disturb the public peace.[6]

To such lengths Ireton and certain other officers wished to push the new government; but extreme men in the army were not then, as is often supposed, the rulers of[8] the country, either in religious or in secular affairs. The statesmen possessed the supreme power, and of that power Cromwell exercised the largest share, simply because he possessed as much of the sagacity and wisdom required for the cabinet, as of the valour and generalship needed in the field. And hence it was, that although the army rushed forward towards extreme ecclesiastical measures, the government paused, and declined to adopt any plan for the abolition of tithes; and also maintained so much reticence in expressing what was designed in relation to the extent of religious liberty. The Presbyterians had become alarmed at the paper drawn up by the army, and the ministers of the county of Essex had plainly declared what were the evils which they apprehended in consequence.[7] In their worst apprehensions, many other clergymen throughout the country deeply shared; and the new rulers were not so firmly seated on their thrones that they could afford unnecessarily to provoke the anger of such a number of influential persons. To expound fully at that moment their ecclesiastical policy would inevitably have exasperated their opponents; and therefore they maintained a prudent reserve, and acted with extreme caution.

What the Council said is recorded in their Declaration,[9] what they did may be traced in the Acts of Parliament passed at that time. The new financiers of the State, in order to meet the pressing necessities of the Commonwealth, availed themselves of cathedral property. The ordinance of 1646 for abolishing Bishops, and selling their lands, had taken no notice of the titles and of the possessions of Deans and Chapters. These possessions presented a rich quarry to the needy masters of the realm; consequently, at the end of April, the House of Commons was found at work upon this new spoil.[8] An[10] Act was passed for abolishing the offices of Deans and Prebendaries and Archdeacons, and for investing the endowments of cathedral chapters in the hands of trustees, for the supply of the necessities of the Commonwealth. Other Acts followed for the purpose of removing obstructions to the sale of these estates, and affording encouragement to purchasers. Yet, we may add, that although the stalls of cathedrals were swept of their occupants, with no legal authority remaining for the appointment of successors, Bishop Wren continued the forms of presentation to prebends at Ely, as he had done all along from the commencement of the civil wars. His regular collations to preferments, as they fell vacant, appear in the records of his see.[9]

Amidst this wholesale spoliation of the Church it must be remembered the public support of religion was not neglected. An Act of the 8th of June provided maintenance for preaching ministers and other pious uses out of the appropriate tithes belonging to the late hierarchy. No charge remained on cathedral estates for the service of religion. Such property had undergone a thorough secularization;[10] but the appropriate tithes pertaining to[11] the Bishops were reserved and placed under trustees for the support of the Christian ministry. From that source, according to the Act, salaries and augmentation of salaries were to be supplied; so that every minister should eventually receive £100 a year. The sum of £18,000 per annum was at once to be raised for this purpose, and £2,000 per annum was added for increasing the maintenance of the masterships of colleges.[11]

The Council of State and the House of Commons found it hard work to defend their authority. To silence groans of discontent, uttered in divers publications, they had recourse to the common expedient of revolutionary governments, and passed an Act against the licentiousness of the press. The army discontents also rose alarmingly around the new rulers. Levellers, with their wild schemes, were very busy. A trooper, described as a religious man "of excellent parts and much beloved," but tinctured strongly with fifth monarchy notions, had to be shot for his share in a mutiny. Yet, such was the view taken of his case by the people, that at his funeral, "the corpse was adorned with bundles of rosemary one-half stained in blood." Sea green and black ribbons were tied to the hats and breasts of the thousands who followed the coffin rank and file; and many even of the better sort met the procession at the churchyard.[12] It was a serious sign of disaffection for so many persons to shew sympathy with a leveller.

But the opposition made in the pulpit to the new[12] rulers constituted a still more formidable difficulty. Presbyterian preachers, who at the beginning of the war had defended the army, could not be silent, now that the war had led to results so very different from what they had contemplated. No wonder then that many of them denounced what had been done at Westminster and Whitehall. They accused the usurpers of blood-guiltiness, and regarded the High Court of Justice as "framing iniquity by law." They held themselves bound, they said, in duty to God, religion, the King, the Parliament, and the kingdom, to profess before angels and men, that they verily believed the taking away the life of Charles was opposed to the teaching of the Bible, and the spirit of the Protestant religion. The whole business they declared to be inconsistent with the oath of allegiance, and contrary to the solemn League and Covenant. Accordingly, they prayed for the Prince of Wales as Charles II. Mr. Cawton, a Presbyterian minister, did so before the Lord Mayor of London. While all this is not to be wondered at, and the men who so acted for conscience' sake are commendable for their courage, it is no matter of surprise that the new government, in self-defence, should strive to put an end to such dangerous proceedings. Therefore, in March, an Act appeared, forbidding ministers in their pulpits to meddle with affairs of State, or to hold correspondence with foreign powers. They were ordered to apply themselves simply to the preaching of the Gospel for the edification of their hearers.[13]

It became necessary for Parliament to vindicate its conduct. It did so, and, in the declaration published with that view, passages appear relating to religion, in[13] which is recapitulated what had been accomplished in the way of reformation; and desires are avowed for the furtherance of the same object. The rulers profess their wish to suppress Popery, superstition, blasphemy, and profaneness; but they also express their desire to remove such acts and ordinances as coerce conscience, "which have been made use of for snares, burdens, and vexations to the truly sincere-hearted people of God, that fear Him and wait for the coming of His Son Jesus Christ." This last clause of course would please the army. The sheets containing it, wet from the press, would be despatched to the camp, and eagerly would soldiers gather round some comrade sitting by his tent door, to read the new proclamation. The millenarian leveller would take comfort from these words, whether they were meant for him or not. But what would the Presbyterians think? The next sentence seems intended to soothe their fears—and, if it did so, it would rouse alarm in the minds of extreme men, just elated by the tenor of the preceding paragraph. "And because we are not ignorant how injuriously our proceedings herein are charged upon us, as if we were setting up and countenancing an universal toleration, when our true aim in the liberty we give is only the necessary encouragement we conceive due to all that are lovers of God, and the purity and power of religion, we can and do therefore declare, in the sight of God and man, that by whomsoever we shall find this liberty abused, we shall be most ready to testify our displeasure and abhorrency thereof by a strict and effectual proceeding against such offenders."[14] Here the countenance of the Presbyterian would brighten, and that of the wild sectary would fall.

[14]

As protestations and covenants had been the order of the day, a new test of obedience was now contrived under the name of an Engagement. The security of the State demanded something of the kind, for authority cannot exist without allegiance. Reference to religion is indeed avoided in the Engagement, and by the terms used in it no spiritual supremacy whatever is claimed; Presbyterians nevertheless considered the new oath to be inconsistent with their Covenant engagements; and, taking this view, they gave a religious character to that which had been carefully framed in order to prevent any such construction. The new political test appeared to them a snare to catch consciences, and a sword to wound them. Transformed into an anti-covenant pledge, it kindled throughout England the fire of a fierce indignation.

On the 22nd of February, 1649-50, the House passed a law for the better propagation of the gospel in Wales, and on the 8th of March, another for the better advancement of religion and learning in Ireland. The latter provided for the maintenance of seminaries in and near the city of Dublin. Archiepiscopal manors and lands were vested in trustees for the use of Trinity College, and for the erection and maintenance of a free-school; the appointment of governors and masters being vested in the Lord Lieutenant; and the trustees, with his consent, having authority given them to make rules and ordinances subject to confirmation by Parliament.[15] The same month saw a statute for the more frequent preaching of the gospel, and for the better maintenance of ministers in the city of Bristol.[16]

In the spring of 1650, Parliament resumed the question of ministerial support, and a new Act was[15] passed for pious uses,[17] for the augmentation of livings and for the payment of heads of houses in the Universities; £80 per annum being specially provided for "the Margaret Lecturer of Oxford."

Other characteristic instances of religious and moral legislation appear in the statute book for the year 1650. By virtue of an Act passed the 19th of April, penalties were to be levied for the desecration of the Sabbath, and for the non-observance of thanksgiving and humiliation days. Seasons of both kinds were put on a level, which was a position of things not at all consistent with puritan ideas of the Divine authority of the Lord's Day, Goods carried in the streets at such times were liable to seizure; travellers and waggoners, if they performed a journey during the hours of holy rest, were to be fined ten shillings. Writs and warrants executed on a Sunday were to lose their effect, and persons serving them were exposed to the payment of a fine of five pounds. Nobody was to use a boat, a horse, a coach, or a sedan, except for going to church, upon pain of forfeiting ten shillings. The like penalty was to fall on those who visited taverns and alehouses. Authority was given to officers to search for offenders, and justices and constables were made liable to penalties if they neglected their duties. The Act was to be read in all the churches yearly upon the first Lord's Day in the month of March.[18]

Profane cursing and swearing were prohibited by an Act passed the 28th of June, with a curiously graduated scale of penalties, arranged according to the rank of the offender. A lord was to be fined thirty shillings; a baronet or knight, twenty; an esquire, ten; a simple gentleman was to pay six and eight-pence, and people of inferior[16] quality, three and fourpence. A double fine followed a second offence; and after a tenth instance of transgression the culprit was to give a bond for good behaviour. The law made no distinction between men and women, and gave charge to all constables vigilantly to hunt out all offenders.[19]

There followed, on the 9th of August, a statute against certain atheistical, blasphemous, and execrable opinions derogatory to the honour of God, and destructive to human society, the enumeration of which includes the most monstrous opinions, such even as the following:—that a human being might proclaim himself to be God, to be infinite, to be almighty; that the blasphemy of the Most High, and other horrible acts are not in themselves shameful; that murder, adultery, and the like, are in their own nature as righteous as the duties of prayer; that happiness consists in sensual indulgence; that there is no such thing as sin, or salvation, or damnation, or heaven, or hell. Persons holding such opinions were to be punished by six months' imprisonment, or, on a second conviction, by banishment out of the Commonwealth. A return without licence incurred the consequences attendant on felony.[20]

We have given this specification of opinions as we find it in the Act, because no general description of it could convey an idea of the extraordinary vagaries of thought to which it points. Taken as they nakedly appear in this unique schedule, they must have been of an ultra-fanatical kind, such as we should suppose only madmen would[17] entertain. But, upon a little reflection, it appears not unlikely that some of the opinions pronounced execrable were, by those charged with holding them, expressed in a different form of words from that given in the Act, and that they really consisted only in those wild pantheistic speculations to which transcendental thinkers of a certain description have always been addicted. Amidst excitements which moved human nature to the loftiest heights and the lowest depths, which brought out conspicuously what was in man, both of good and evil, it was not strange that the ignorant should bluntly say some of the same absurd things which the learned have been wont to convey in specious phrase and polished diction. At all events, there must have been a large amount of very objectionable, and even monstrous teaching in those days, to have called forth such minute notice and such terrible denunciation.

Private morals likewise were scanned and marked by these vigilant legislators.[21] Their policy, as we have said before, was intended to supply a defect consequent upon the abolition of the old Church courts, proceeding as it did upon the idea handed down for ages, that penal laws sufficed to extinguish individual vice, as well as to suppress social crime—an idea now, after an uninterrupted continuance of failures, almost universally regarded as utterly delusive. The Long Parliament in these, its last days, threatened incest with death without benefit of clergy; it marked adultery as felonious, and it punished fornication with three months' imprisonment.[18] A common bawd was to be whipped, set in the pillory, branded with a hot iron, and committed to the House of Correction for three years: a repetition of the offence was to be treated as a capital crime. Henry Marten, looking at the subject from what was then the common point of view, justly observed, in the course of the debate to which the measure gave rise, that such severity only served to increase transgression, inasmuch as merciful people would shrink from bringing offenders to justice, and offenders escaping with impunity would be encouraged in sin.

The laws which we have just enumerated were passed in the spring and summer of 1650; and it was about that time, indeed shortly before the speech just noticed, that the influence of Marten passed its zenith, and he descended from the high position he had occupied in the rule of the Commonwealth. The cause of that event, partly political and partly personal, is to be found in his stern republicanism, and in his disputes with Oliver Cromwell. An enquiry into that subject does not come within the scope of our history, nor do the consequences of it concern us further than this, that they indirectly touched the state of ecclesiastical affairs: for Marten's exclusion from the Council of State in February, 1650, and the inconsiderable part which he took in public business after his re-admission, amounted, according to the view which we have taken, to the dismissal or the withdrawal of one of the memorable triumvirate who had wielded for a time supreme authority in the Church as well as the State. Vane's power was of longer duration, but his disappearance from the lofty sphere he had occupied is an event which we shall speedily have to notice—an event which will be found to have left the government of England in the hands of that one man, who, as the greatest general and[19] statesman of his age, was alone competent to rule his country in the hour of its peril, and the crisis of its fate.

An Act of the 27th of September, 1650, places the religious policy of Parliament in a very doubtful light.[22] It repealed old acts of uniformity. It professed to relieve the religious and the peaceable from the rigour of previous intolerance. Yet this very law goes on to say, that it does not interfere with existing acts and ordinances for the due observance of the Lord's Day, and days of public thanksgiving and humiliation; and it therefore requires that on all such days, every person within the Commonwealth shall resort to some public place, where the service and worship of God is exercised, or shall be present at some other place, in the practice of religious duty. Latitude seems to have been given to the mode of obedience, for people were not tied up to any set form—so far they were released from the bonds of Elizabeth's statute. Still religious worship of some kind continued compulsory, and those who neglected religious duties altogether were to be proceeded against as criminals. No penalty indeed is specified—it is only declared that such as broke this law should be proceeded against accordingly—and probably the statute proved a dead letter; but such an enactment, although it might commend itself to the Puritan, was utterly inconsistent with religious liberty, as expounded by Marten, Vane, and others of the republican school.

CHAPTER II.

Royalty was now a thing of the past; it had been abolished in England. He who had perished on the scaffold came to be called plain Charles Stuart. His son could be designated by no other name. Royal statues were pulled down. Royal arms were no longer allowed in churches. But loyalty, as a sentiment, arose in greater strength than ever after the execution of the King. To Episcopalians, and to some Presbyterians also, Charles appeared a martyr, the victim of a republican faction, who were proceeding to destroy the Church after having already battered down the throne. Both parties shuddered at the idea of being ruled by men whose hands were red with royal blood. Recollections of the 30th of January were indelible. What Ussher and Philip Henry had seen, burned itself into their memories, and the tragedy, down to the minutest particular, with superadded circumstances of brutality, would form a staple of conversation in many a country walk, and by many an English fireside, for months and years afterwards.

A touching expression of Royalist sympathy occurs in the parish register of Woodford, in the county of Essex, where there is recorded a collection for the benefit of[21] Charles' chaplains and servants, about a year after his death. Their claims were urged in a petition which stated that the King's domestics, to the number of forty, were in great distress, and that their means of support out of his revenues were still detained, so that they could in nowise maintain either themselves, their wives, or their families, and therefore they sought the charity of all good Christians.[23]

Charles Stuart was in Holland at the time of his father's execution. The Scotch estates, as early as the 5th of February, shewed their loyalty to the Stuarts by proclaiming the Prince of Wales to be their King. Robert Baillie here again comes to our assistance, and we find him writing in February, 1649, to his cousin Spang, then sojourning at the Hague, in the following terms:—

"We have sent the bearer (Sir Joseph Douglas), a worthy gentleman, to signify so much to his Majesty, at the Hague; we purpose speedily to send an honourable commission from all estates. The dangers and difficulties[22] wherewith both his Majesty and all his kingdoms at this time are involved are exceeding great and many. The first necessary and prime one (as all here, without exception, conceive), doth put his Majesty and his people both, in a hopeful proceeding, and his Majesty's joining with us in the national Covenant, subscribed by his grandfather King James, and the Solemn League and Covenant wherein all the well-affected of the three kingdoms are entered, and must live and die in, upon all hazards. If his Majesty may be moved to join with us in this one point, he will have all Scotland ready to sacrifice their lives for his service; if he refuse, or shift this duty, his best and most useful friends, both here and elsewhere, will be cast into inextricable labyrinths, we fear, for the ruin of us all."[24] In these sentences of Baillie's letter, which crossed the winter's sea in Sir Joseph Douglas' despatch box, side by side with a more important document, we find the key-note struck of all the diplomacy then going on between the King and the Scotch. Spang, soon after receiving the letter, is found busy with endeavours to promote the accomplishment of the object designed by his fellow-countrymen. Writing at once to his cousin to express sympathy in his horror at Charles' execution—which Dutch ministers bewailed in sermons from chosen texts—and to shew his exultation at the thought of what his friends in Scotland had accomplished, this resident at the Hague informs us that he had obtained an interview with the Prince of Orange,—the young man, who, it will be recollected, was married at Whitehall in 1641. The writer represents him as concerned for the Protestant religion, and says he heard him express the opinion that Charles might be brought to[23] subscribe that Covenant which concerned Scotland alone, but he was not up to the mark in reference to the other, betwixt Scotland and England. Earnestly did the diplomatist argue the point, but with little avail. When his Highness pressed home the question, whether Scotland, divided herself, were really able to do anything of moment since the ruling party in that country was too weak to suppress its enemies; Spang told the Prince that the condition of the Presbyterians, in Great Britain and Ireland, was not so mean but that the King, if he would cheerfully join himself to them, as caput et vindex fœderis, would be sure of success. At the close of the letter containing this report, the writer added an earnest exhortation to his cousin to inform the reverend brethren of his communion how much the fame of rigidity was likely to endanger the fame of the kirk, and make Presbyterian government hateful. He said plainly that there could be no safety, if the Scotch did not pack up their quarrels among themselves.[25]

On Thursday, the 22nd of March, "at night, the Lord brought" all the commissioners "safe to Rotterdam." Baillie was one of them, being now engaged in a very different business from that which took him to London in the year 1640,—yet did he act herein in a way as true as ever to his cause and to himself, being intent still upon the prosperity of Presbyterianism, the enforcement of the Covenant, and the glory of God. He and his brother commissioners proceeded to Delf, and whilst resting there on the Sabbath, preached and conducted worship. After putting their papers in order, they hastened to the Hague, and were in the royal presence on the following day.

[24]

Baillie furnishes a copy of his speech to Charles, spoken in the King's bedchamber, upon Tuesday, March the 27th, 1649, at three o'clock in the afternoon. In the name of the Church of Scotland, the clerical Commissioner expressed much grief for his Majesty's afflictions, and great joy on his accession to the throne, together with deep sorrow for the recent execrable parricide, which the great Judge of the world, he was persuaded, would avenge. Prayers followed this address to the new King, in which the minister fervently implored that the clouds of present danger might fly away, and that more religion and piety might be seen in his Majesty's days than in those of his most prosperous ancestors. The deputation then handed to the sovereign a letter from the Church of Scotland.

Charles, during this interview, made a favourable impression on his visitors, as indeed he did on most people. "His Majesty," says Baillie,[26] "is of a very sweet and courteous disposition. We hope he is not so far rooted in any principles contrary to us, but that, by God's blessing on our friends' labours, he may be gotten to do us reason, whatsoever our fears be for the present. There is a very evil generation both of English and Scotch here, who vomit out all their evil humour against all our proceedings." Again the writer breaks out in[25] terms of admiration respecting the King. "He is one of the most gentle, innocent, well-inclined princes, so far as yet appears, that lives in the world,—a trim person, and of a manly carriage, understands pretty well, speaks not much—would to God he were amongst us."

When the Scotch had left Holland, the Hague became a centre of intrigues for the overthrow of the English Commonwealth and the restoration of the Stuarts. Except so far as they illustrate the state of religious parties, we have here little to do with those intrigues.

Certain papers, still in existence, disclose some of the secrets of the Court in Holland during the spring and summer of 1650. Charles then, as ever, in his exile, pursued one line of policy, which was, by honest or dishonest means to recover the crown of Great Britain. Without any ambition like his father, to be in repute as a diplomatist, and wholly lacking the caution and prudence requisite for such a character, he nevertheless eagerly listened to whatever his councillors proposed in[26] reference to his restoration, and at times aided their endeavours after that object by his nimble wit and his unblushing falsehood.

As he sat in his little cabinet with a very scantily attended Council Board, a paper, dated the 5th of March, 1650, came before him, stating what appeared to be the wishes and views of certain Presbyterians.

"They desired that his Majesty would declare himself to his people, that they might raise a satisfaction from it to their friends.

"That his Majesty would please to send some encouragement to such of their clergy friends, as yet, in pulpits and elsewhere, dared publicly to hold up his Majesty's rights and titles.

"To both which desires they seem satisfied, saving they conceive they might have made an advantage of it too for that purpose, if his Majesty had touched also, in particular, upon religion in his declaration.

"That they will not press for the Covenant in England, and will endeavour to moderate the Scots in their desires; beseeching withal, that the King will go as far as he can for their satisfaction, that he may have a greater service by their conjunction.

"That they will rest satisfied with such a settlement in Church and State as a future Parliament—together with such a synod as that Parliament shall approve of—shall make.

"That though many particular persons of their party are clearly satisfied with the King and his intentions, yet their single endeavours, without taking more of their party along with them, will signify little for his service; and therefore to bring them in, which is their desire, the persons already satisfied are necessitated to carry themselves more cautiously towards the rest; in compliance[27] with them, for fear of losing them through factious insinuations, which their party is not free from.

"That amongst their party, divers (and especially in London) wealthy persons hanker so much after the Scots, that the rest, not so much Scotified, use to call them bigots or zealots, and labour to break off that dependency as the greatest impediment to their ready conjunction for his Majesty's service, in case the Scots continue unreasonable in their desires.

"That there is yet a fear amongst their party generally that the King's party will not be reconciled to them; and till that fear can be removed it concerns them, in order to their own security, to move with such circumspection, and preserve such strength in themselves as may balance with the King's party."[27]

This paper exhibits the English Presbyterians as earnestly desiring the accession of Charles. It indicates that there were differences of opinions between the Scotch and themselves in relation to the Covenant, and that amongst the latter a much higher degree of confidence was entertained by some than by others respecting the prince's character and intentions; whilst it also shews that sympathy with the Scotch was cherished by the English in very unequal measures, and that those who most nearly coincided in the views of their northern brethren were the rich Presbyterians of the metropolis.

A second paper of rough notes, endorsed as received on the 18th of March, containing suggestions from Roman Catholics in England, came under consideration.

Sir Nicholas Crispe and many other friends tendered their allegiance and offered their services to his Majesty.[28] They approved of his constancy to the Marquis of Montrose, and preferred a union to be formed with him rather than with the contrary faction, if a division of parties were inevitable. They proceeded to beseech his Majesty to have great care in whom he placed confidence, inasmuch as they feared he had some ministers about him who could not be trusted, although they declined to name them. They said that all possible dispatch ought to be used; and they referred to him the question what should be done with his Majesty's Catholic subjects. "In their opinion," to use their own words, "they conceive it very necessary that they have some private assurance from him of a future liberty of conscience, if God shall restore him, and the like to some Catholic prince in their behalf. They proposed some connivance to have been allowed for taking the engagement, but that will be now answered too late, the day being past, as to the banishment, though the last day given be not till the 14th of April—after which day all are outlawed who shall not take it. If the King order any thing herein, then to give some assurance of it under his hand for their better satisfaction who must necessarily take it for their preservation in order to his service." It was proposed that there should be a descent made on the Cornish coast; and after an assurance from the "Lords Shrewsbury, Montague, and all other Catholic nobility and gentry," that they faithfully retained their allegiance, there follows an expression of desire for a mitigation of the severity of the laws against them, should God restore him to the throne, for which they were prepared to hazard fortune and life.

The notes of Charles' reply, dated the 8th of April, are also in existence. Amongst other things he states, "As for the Catholics, all care will be taken to give[29] them ease and liberty of conscience. As to the engagement, what liberty their consciences shall give them to do, to preserve themselves for the King's service, their continuing loyal will render acceptable to the King, who will be sure to recompense their merit."[28]

Communications from Papists were evidently far more agreeable than any which came from a Presbyterian quarter. They received a prompt reply, and both his Majesty and his correspondents shewed themselves perfectly willing to adopt jesuitical practices, which, from all we know of the Presbyterians, we are perfectly sure they would have scorned; to take the Engagement with the intention of breaking it was a course perfectly approved by the Prince and his friends. The end sanctified the means.

A third paper, bearing date May the 10th, contains information respecting the English Republicans, which had been gathered from gossip during a journey in this country by Colonel Keynes. An informant, he says, assured him that "a friend of his who dined on Saturday last with Sir Harry Vane the younger, Mr. Bailey, and Judge Thorpe, and was one who had formerly been theirs, though now converted, but did still comply with them, so feigned as not to make himself suspected, told him for certain, that after dinner, being all four alone, they fell into discourse concerning their present condition; that Sir H. Vane said that they were in a far worse estate than ever yet they had been; that[30] all the world was and would be their enemies; that the Scots had left them; their own army and generals were not to be trusted; that the whole kingdom would rise and cut their throats upon the first good occasion, and that they knew not any place to go unto to be safe."

The whole of the report is written in a sanguine spirit, and shews how the Royalists buoyed up the King's hopes. And although such conversations as are here retailed are utterly untrustworthy, yet it is quite possible that Vane, as he saw the cause of pure republicanism was on the decline, might express himself to his friends in terms of despondency, not unlike those which are here represented.

There is also a fourth and earlier paper,[29] belonging to the month of March, containing general suggestions submitted for the consideration of Charles and his council.

"As for England," he is told, "the Independents are possessed of all the forts and towns, the navy and treasures. The Presbyterian yet holdeth a silent power by means of the Divines, and the interest of some gentry and nobility, and especially in London and the great towns. Their fortunes are yet unshaken (though threatened). Besides (by former use when they held the power), they continue an intelligence which the King's party cannot do, which may make them considerable, when they shall be fit for his Majesty's reception.

"Some are rigid for the jus Divinum of Presbytery, but the greatest part, weary of trouble and the rod that now hangeth over them, would repent and serve his Majesty; some purely without fraud, others being assured to be freed from their past facts, their livings and offices[31] preserved to them, their moneys laid out in church lands, &c., repaid.

"The principal heads look at Government, and manage all these under people's interests to their own, which we conceive all that love his Majesty should give way to, and laying aside all expectations of their own, if these men may be able to do the work to let them receive the thanks of it.

"For his Majesty's party in England, it is so poor, so disjointed, so severely watched by both the other factions, that it is impossible for them to do anything upon their own single score; but if his Majesty could find an expedient to beget a good understanding betwixt his party and the Presbyterians they might under their shadow rise again; otherwise nothing but a foreign force can begin the work and justify the endeavours and affections of his friends."

These notes speak for themselves, and indicate the rumours, expectations, and schemes which were reported to Charles, and the many ways in which religion and politics had become mixed up together in connexion with the efforts he was making to reach the throne of his fathers.

Charles at length decided upon throwing himself into the arms of the Scotch. The demand to sign the Covenant, though it thoroughly disgusted him in the first instance, obtained his consent after a year's delay. Casting aside a last regard for truth, he passed through the form of signing the document before he left the Dutch shores; that concession having been persistently stipulated for by his new adherents. Having reached Scotland on the 23rd of June, he was proclaimed King at the High Cross of Edinburgh on the 11th of July following.

Faithful to the religious cause which they had espoused,[32] the Presbyterians shewed great care to separate it from the interests of Royalism, whether considered by itself or in connexion with the prelatical party, which had been the main defenders of the throne at the beginning of the war. This appears from the following declaration, dated West Kirk of Edinburgh, the 13th and 14th of August, 1650. "The Commissioners of the General Assembly, considering that there may be just ground of stumbling from the King's Majesty refusing to subscribe and emit the declaration offered unto him by the Committee of Estate, and Commissioners of the General Assembly—considering his former carriage and resolution for the future in reference to the cause of God, and the enemies and friends thereof, do therefore declare that this kingdom does not own or espouse any malignant party, or quarrel, or interest, but that they fight merely upon their former grounds and principles, and in defence of the cause of God and the kingdom as they have done these twelve years past; and therefore as they do disclaim all the sin and guilt of the King, and of his house, so they will not own him nor his interest, otherwise than with subordination to God, and so far as he owns and prosecutes the cause of God, and disclaims his and his father's opposition to the work of God and the Covenant, and likewise all the enemies thereof; and that they will, with all convenient speed, take in consideration the papers lately sent them from Oliver Cromwell, and vindicate themselves from all the falsehoods contained therein; especially in those things wherein the quarrel betwixt us and that party is mis-stated, as if we owned the late King's proceedings and were resolved to prosecute and maintain his present Majesty's interest before and without acknowledgment of the sins of his house and former ways, and satisfaction to God's people in both kingdoms.

[33]

["The Committee of Estates having seen and considered the declaration of the Commissioners of the General Assembly, anent the stating of the quarrel whereupon the army is to fight, approved the same, and heartily concurred therein.

"Thos. Henderson."][30]

The Episcopalian Royalists of England regarded the Scots with the utmost aversion, and had just been shocked by their hanging the Marquis of Montrose, who had taken up arms for Charles I. as early as the year 1643. Moreover, they entertained deceitful hopes respecting Irish affairs. Hence, when they were told of what the prince had done, they could not believe their own ears.

"We are here in an amaze to understand that the King is gone for Scotland, especially after that horrid murder of the Marquis of Montrose, wherein the King's honour suffered as great a butchery as he did: and my thoughts are the more troubled at his Majesty's adventure thither because we have lately received so good news from Ireland, as that all the Papists have submitted to my Lord of Ormond, and they have lately given Sir C. Coote a great defeat in the north of Ireland, and hope to master the whole kingdom by Michaelmas; which, methinks, seems to upbraid the King's hasty counsellors, who having no patience at all to rely on God's providence, and looking still upon mere human strength, without any consideration of honour or conscience, are still crying out, What else have we to do? when indeed there are times when honest men must pray and do nothing else until God's providence open a way fit for them to take. And now for aught appears to us they[34] have thrust our master upon a course of so much danger that they themselves shrink at the sight of it, when, had they been but masters of so much Christian patience as to have staid awhile, things probably might have been put into a fair and an hopeful way. These are sad considerations, and they make me fear God's heavy hand is still upon us, who will neither be persuaded, nor indeed knocked into any religion, and to suffer that fond instance of Henry IV. of France to persuade more with us than all the precepts of Christ's Gospel.

"I should give the poor Church for utterly lost, but that I believe there is a good God in heaven; but, however it fare with her, some I fear will one day sharply answer that they have preserved her no better, and that to gain the speedier ease they have preferred rash and wicked counsels before those that were pious and just, because they seemed not to promise a more sudden way to prosperity."[31]

Another Royalist letter in September reveals what was going on in Scotland—the trouble the Presbyterians had with the King—and the trouble he had with them.

"Mr. Thomas Weston and Daniel O'Neile came from the King nine days ago. Our glorious news of Cromwell's total defeat is nothing to that we hoped, yet he hath had a knock, and may very probably be worsted if the Scots do their best, that is, sit still. But the ministers press their men to fight, contrary to their commander's opinion. If they fight they hazard a beating. The ministers have lately purged the army of 5,000 profane persons, and Lowden went about the camp to tell them it was the cause of God, and not to be maintained by wicked[35] men. Such they account all cavaliers, Montrosians, and such as engaged with Hamilton, that is to say, their best soldiers. Whether this be madness or treachery a little time may discover. The King must not go to the army, for fear he may gain too much upon the soldier. He was pressed to a declaration imputing the late bloodshed and miseries to his mother's Popery and his father's following bad counsel and opposing the Covenant. This the King refused to the death; whereupon instantly the Kirk declare against him, and offer to treat with Cromwell. To prevent the consequences whereof, the King sends to the Kirk again, by Argyle's advice, and satisfies them, mollifying only some words in the declaration. So, as he says in it now, that his father's ill counsel, &c., was the occasion (not the cause) of the troubles. Argyle hath given him great professions of his fidelity, seems to be overpowered by the clergy, and says when the King comes into England he may be more free, but for the present it is necessary to please these madmen. The votes for removing from the King the company that came with him from home, are fully confirmed by the Parliament. They make no laws which are of force till the Assemblies of the Kirk allow them. This is the substance of what I heard from Thomas Weston: you will have it more fully from other hands. I write only to let you see how ready I should be if I were able to express myself.

"Your Honour's most humble servant,

"George Radcliffe."

This letter is dated from the Hague the 7th of September.[32] Fairfax, from Presbyterian scruples, having declined the office, Cromwell had now gone to Scotland[36] as Generalissimo of the Commonwealth army, to crush at once this Scotch attempt, which, by making Charles the covenanted King of Scotland, prepared for making him the covenanted King of England. Not to have endeavoured to put a stop to this enterprise, would have been suicidal infatuation on the part of the founder of the English Commonwealth. The great captain had crossed the Tweed on the 22nd of July, with no such faith in the Covenant as the Scotch brethren cherished; nay, looking on their faith in it as superstitious, and saying even to the General Assembly: "There may be, as well, a carnal confidence upon misunderstood and misapplied precepts, which may be called spiritual drunkenness. There may be a Covenant made with death and hell." Weston and O'Neile had left the King on the 29th of August, and in some slowly-sailing smack had reached Holland, bringing "glorious" news, which turned out in the end to be very false, and was soon followed by other news very disastrous. By Cromwell's "defeat"—the report of which, as related, did not satisfy Mr. George Radcliffe—must have been meant the retreat of the army from Edinburgh after a skirmish on the 27th, "Wherein," says Cromwell, "we had near twenty killed and wounded, but not one commission officer. The enemy, as we are informed, had about eighty killed, and some considerable officers. Seeing they would keep their ground, from which we could not remove them, and our bread being spent, we were necessitated to go for a new supply, and so marched off about ten or eleven o'clock on Wednesday morning."[33]

Four days before Radcliffe's letter was written, something had occurred very different indeed from the royalist report.

[37]

Late in the blustering night of the 2nd of September, as the blasts shook the tents at Dunbar, and the sleet cut the faces of the sentries, Leslie on the Scotch side, and Cromwell on the English, were encamped front to front, prepared for battle; the former sure of victory from what he gathered as to the condition of the invaders. Cromwell intended to begin the attack at daybreak, and, as the moon rode high, gleaming through the rent clouds, and the first blush of dawn streaked the horizon, he was ready; but the action hardly began before sunrise. And yet, an hour later—when the September mist rolled off the German ocean, and the sun broke all silvery on the waters, lighting up St. Abb's Head, while the cry of the English commander was heard along the line, "Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered,"—his soldiers, with a tornado rush, had swept down the foe. Thousands were slain, the rest routed, and by nine o'clock Leslie rode into Edinburgh, a brave but beaten soldier.

Cromwell, as he rode into the same city a conqueror, found the clergy had left the churches. He sent a trumpet to the castle, to assure the Governor that the clergy might return in peace, that he would not hinder the preaching of the Gospel; only preachers must remember not to rail at their superiors and "overtop the civil power." In reply to the complaint that the pulpit had been opened to sectaries and laymen, the victorious Independent put another question:—"Are you troubled that Christ is preached? Is preaching so exclusively your function? Doth it scandalize the reformed kirks and Scotland in particular? Is it against the Covenant? Away with the Covenant if this be so! I thought the Covenant and 'these professors of it' could have been willing that any should speak good of the name of Christ;[38] if not, it is no Covenant of God's approving; nor are these kirks you mention in so much the spouse of Christ. Where do you find in the Scripture a ground to warrant such an assertion, that preaching is exclusively your function? Though an approbation from men hath order in it, and may do well, yet he that hath no better warrant than that, hath none at all. I hope He that ascended up on high may give His gifts to whom He pleases, and if those gifts be the seal of mission, be not 'you' envious though Eldad and Medad prophesy."[34] In this rather uncouth phraseology may be discerned a certain soldierly instinct, not very different from what is so noticeable in the despatches of a modern general of a far different school. Cromwell, like Wellington, could use words, even as the soldiers at Waterloo and in the civil wars could use swords, cleaving a subject asunder down to the very heart, at a single stroke.

Presbyterian Scotland, honest to the core, stood faithful to what as it believed was God's own cause. Shall our glorious Covenant—not of earth, but of heaven—be crushed by this Independent captain, brave though he be; shall it be buried on the field of this Dunbar fight? No, no! Looking thus at the subject, the leaders, clerical as well as lay, in spite of tormenting divisions in the nation and in the kirk, soon busied themselves with preparations for another trial of arms. "All of us in pulpit," writes Robert Baillie, "myself as much as others, did promove the work. In a very short time three thousand five hundred horse are gotten together, with hopes by volunteers, to make them above five thousand."[35] But all went not on smoothly. Hopes were soon blasted. Hot controversy arose as to whether the lawfulness of a war[39] against Cromwell could be justified by the Covenant. Some went so far as to say: "That the commission of the Kirk would approve nothing that was right; that a hypocrite ought not to reign over us—that we ought to treat with Cromwell, and give him security not to trouble England with a king—and who marred this treaty, the blood of the slain in this quarrel be on their head!"

However, the ruling party in Kirk and Court continued staunch to the Covenant, and to the King whom they had persuaded to entrust his crown to their keeping. That crown with all solemnity they placed upon the Prince's head on New Year's day, 1651. The ceremony took place at Scone, whose ancient abbey had witnessed the coronation of so many kings of Scotland, as they sat on "the stone of destiny"—still preserved under Edward the Confessor's chair at Westminster. But the solemnities on this occasion appeared shorn of all the splendid ritualism which in other days had adorned the inauguration of a new reign. Mr. Douglas preached upon the crowning of King Joash, "a very pertinent, wise, and good sermon." Charles then swore, in the presence of Almighty God, the searcher of hearts, that he would prosecute the ends prescribed in the Covenant, and agree to all Acts of Parliament for the establishment in his Scotch realm, of Presbyterian rule, of the Directory, the confession and the catechism of the Kirk; and also consent to Acts of Parliament enjoining the same throughout the rest of his dominions. The Earl of Argyle brought forth the crown, and lifted it on the head of the chosen King. Mr. Robert Douglas prayed; and when the Chancellor had conducted the Prince to the throne of his ancestors, the same minister addressed to him an exhortation, pressing on him the duty of constancy to the Covenant, and reminding him how his grandfather[40] James had broken his vow, the consequences of which pursued his family—"God casting the King out of His lap"—and how the plagues of heaven would fall on himself, if he failed to keep the oath of his coronation day. The service closed "with a prayer, and the twentieth psalm."[36]

Charles was forced into a confession of his father's sin in marrying an idolatress, of his own bad education, of the prejudices against God's cause which he had imbibed in his boyhood, and of his manifold transgressions. He also declared his detestation of Popery and Prelacy, and his resolution, inasmuch as he had obtained mercy of the Lord, to be on the Lord's side, to do nothing but with the advice of His Kirk. After all this hypocrisy he felt now in his new position—even as he deserved—that he had a very hard time of it. Tedious forms were imposed upon him; six sermons at one sitting being preached in his presence. Not a walk was allowed him on a Sunday. Mewed up, as he considered it, he had to spend hours in distasteful religious exercises, or in such society as his keepers pleased: and if he ventured to dance, or play at cards—which was a great delight to his frivolous nature—some ministers, who had caught Knox's mantle, administered reproof in a tone like that of the bold Reformer to Mary Stuart, whose levity, fascinating manners, and some other qualities, had descended to her great grandson.

Honest fanaticism, apparent throughout the treatment which Charles received, manifested itself in some other rather curious ways. First, in excluding from the King's army all who had incurred the taint of malignancy,[41] thereby cutting off from the cause of King and Covenant half the resources at command; and, secondly, on a return of common sense as to that matter, in proceeding to demand that old malignants, now ready to fight the Lord's battles, should, before they handled a pike or shouldered a musket, stand at the church door and do penance. Accordingly, it is recorded, on Sunday, the 12th of January, "This day Lieutenant-General Middleton was relaxed from his excommunication, and did his penance in sackcloth in Dundee church; and Colonel Archibald Strachan was excommunicated, and delivered to the devil, in the church of Perth, by Mr. Alexander Rollock, the same day." The Earl of Lauderdale, the Earl of Crawford, and other nobles, expiated their malignancy after the same fashion. From these two lines of policy originated the two parties known in Scotland as Protesters and Resolutionists—the former remonstrating against the employment of profane and ungodly men in the camp, or the court, or on the bench; the latter resolving upon their admission, after submitting to Church discipline.[37]

[42]

It is not for us to describe the tactics of the Scotch army. It is enough to say that, in August, 1651, that army found itself in such a position with regard to Cromwell's camp, that it was "much nearer to England than he."[38] It seemed safer to turn south than north. Moreover, hopes grew up of large Presbyterian help on this side the border. The army with the King therefore marched into Lancashire; but the army and the King, once on English soil, soon shewed that they were seeking different ends.[39] The army cared little for the King, and much for the Covenant. The King cared much for his crown, and not at all for the Covenant—except to hate it. The Committee of Ministers attending on the forces pre[43]pared, unknown to his Majesty, a declaration of their Presbyterian zeal, and of their purpose to receive no recruits who would not subscribe the solemn League. This to Charles, of course, appeared insanity, and he countermanded the publication; at the same time ordering that civility should be shewn to any one who was disposed to enter his service. When the Scotch design became known, it tended to check the advances of episcopal Royalists; and, likewise, the King's want of sympathy with the Covenant served to keep Presbyterians away. Worse still, numbers of the Scots, now convinced of his treachery, turned their backs and marched home, and those who continued faithful fell into discord with their comrades. No cohesion could exist between covenanted and anti-covenanting forces. Personal jealousies, also, increased religious antipathies; for the Duke of Buckingham wanted to snatch the command from the hands of General Leslie. By the time the army reached Worcester—which the King had selected for his last throw in the game of war—the army had fallen into a state of perfect demoralization. Discord prevailed amongst the officers, and confusion amongst the men. The image of iron and clay fell to pieces at the first shock. Cromwell, who had followed the Royalists from Scotland, dashed down upon them by the banks of the river Severn, ere they were aware of his approach. The King suddenly, as he was dining at noon, heard of a battle, and rushed out of the house, only to find a body of his own horsemen already in retreat. They nearly rode over his sacred person, and paid no attention whatever to his loud war cry. The Ironsides swept all before them. Leslie reached Yorkshire with only 1,500 Covenanters; and the rest of the troops were scattered over the country—blown about like the chaff of the summer threshing floor.

[44]

If some English Presbyterians could not conscientiously fight for the King, others could not conscientiously fight against him. The Covenant, according to the fairest interpretation of it, together with their own old English sentiments, constrained them to maintain their loyalty to the crown. Regarding the father's execution as a murder, they declined to help the regicides in their designs upon his son. Dr. Samuel Annesley, John Wesley's grandfather, was a type of this class. He refused to send a horse against his Majesty at Worcester, and despatched a servant at night from a distance of forty miles to secure the church keys, in order that no schismatical ministers might hold a thanksgiving service in his church in celebration of Cromwell's victory. Several times he denounced the General as the "arrantest hypocrite" that ever pestered the Church of Christ; as one intent on pulling "down others only to make his own way to the throne," for which demonstrations before "some of note in the army" he was "necessitated to quit a parsonage worth between £200 and £300 per annum."[40]

In the spring of 1651, as Charles did penance for the recovery of the throne, he had Presbyterian friends in London and elsewhere plotting for the same end. They despatched letters to raise money and arms on his behalf; and some of these letters, conveyed in a vessel driven by a storm into the harbour of the town of Ayr, fell into Cromwell's hands.

Several ministers were implicated, especially Christopher Love.[41] It was the same person who had made[45] himself famous by his Uxbridge sermon against the Royalists, and he now found himself in the Tower, a prisoner in the hands of the Parliament. Afterwards placed at the[46] bar of the High Court of Justice in Westminster Hall, this young minister was charged with a criminal correspondence to restore Charles Stuart, first, in violation of an ordinance which denounced a traitor's death against those who should make such an attempt; and secondly, in violation of another ordinance, against assisting foreigners to invade the shores of England. Love, in his defence, declared that he only retained his covenanting principles. He referred to what he had suffered as a Puritan, and to what he had done as a patriot, adding, "I have been kept several weeks in close prison, and am now arraigned for my life, and like to suffer from the hands of those for whom I have done and suffered so much, and who have lifted up their hands with me on the same Covenant." He solemnly declared that he had neither written nor sent letters into Scotland; but he confessed that the proceedings in favour of the King were agreeable to his judgment, and for the good of the nation. He owned that he had connived at the scheme for restoring the prince, and had concealed some intelligence respecting it; and for so doing he besought forgiveness, and threw himself upon the mercy of the Court. Matthew Hale appeared as counsel for the prisoner, but no plea or intercession could prevent a verdict of guilty, or avert the sentence of death.

The efforts made by Mary Love to save the life of her husband, and the correspondence which passed between them, form an affecting episode. With that courage which is inspired by a wife's affection, and which not unfrequently converts a timid and commonplace woman into a heroine, she laid a petition before Parliament, imploring pardon for the condemned, pledging his friends as security for his peaceable behaviour in time to come, and begging that the God of heaven would bow the hearts of England's rulers to shew mercy. Yet, fearing the worst, this admir[47]able woman wrote to her husband in strains of ardent tenderness, telling him to be comforted; that death was but a little stroke, and that he would soon be where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. "Remember," she said, "though thou mayest eat thy dinner with bitter herbs, yet thou shalt have a sweet supper with Christ that night." He responded in the same spirit of resignation and triumph, assuring her that, as there was "little between him and death," so "there was little between him and heaven." A second prayer from Mrs. Love entreated that, if her husband might not be thought worthy to breathe English air, he might at least have leave to sigh out his sorrows in the utmost parts of the earth. Fifty-four ministers signed a petition, in which they besought the Parliament earnestly, and "in the bowels of Jesus Christ, who, when we were sinners, died for us, if not totally to spare the life of their dear brother, yet that they would say of him as Solomon of Abiathar, that at this time he should not be put to death." A reprieve for one month followed, at the end of which period the suspense of wife and friends settled into blank agony. A third petition produced no effect; nor a fourth, though in that the broken-hearted woman cried, "Your desolate handmaid waiteth with all humility and earnest expectation at your doors, beseeching you not to forget to shew mercy to your poor petitioner and her tender babes." "Be graciously pleased to prevent this dreadful blow." "Whilst you are propagating the Gospel in New England, let my dying husband, as a prophet from the dead, be sent to endeavour the conversion of the poor Indians."

The last words of Christopher Love to his brave, loving Mary were: "Farewell, I will call thee wife no more—I shall see thy face no more; yet I am not much[48] troubled, for I am going to meet the bridegroom, the Lord Jesus Christ, to whom I shall be eternally married."[42]

Love met his fate on Tower Hill, on the 22nd of August (together with Mr. Gibbon), and made a long speech, maintaining that he had been convicted upon insufficient evidence, and that certain charges affecting his moral and political character were utterly untrue. He protested against the Engagement, and the invasion of Scotland by an English army; he avowed his preference to die as a Covenant keeper, rather than to live as a Covenant breaker; and ended his words with spiritual counsels and appeals. Ash, Calamy, and Manton, attended their brother on the scaffold; and Baxter says "he died with as great alacrity, and fearless quietude, and freedom of speech, as if he had gone to bed." Manton preached in St. Lawrence church, where Love had been incumbent, a funeral sermon, published under the title of "The Saint's Triumph in Death." The title indicates the preacher's opinion; and in harmony with it is a statement in the discourse, that the departed was a "pattern most worthy of imitation—a man eminent in grace—a man of a singular life and conversation." Christopher Love stood on the scaffold—where so many in like awful circumstances had stood before—under a bright August sky; but soon after the shedding of his blood the heavens became overcast, and thunder and lightning raged all night. At a time when Nature was interpreted by each[49] contending faction as being on its side, no wonder royalist Presbyterians said "God is angry at what has been done," and no wonder republican Independents replied, "It is a mark of Divine judgment against implacable apostasy."

CHAPTER III.

In 1653 the Long Parliament had worn itself out, and its dissolution had become an inevitable necessity. The last gleams of its expiring light emanated from Sir Harry Vane, whose character and genius chiefly, if not entirely, gave to its latest debates whatever of power and brilliancy they possessed. A true estimate of this previously illustrious senate, in the period of its decadence, must rest upon a full consideration of the opinions and conduct of its remaining members regarded in general, and not upon the exceptional views and virtues of a single distinguished individual. There can be little or no doubt that the effect of the later proceedings of this Parliament was likely to be the ruin of the cause for which it had fought in its earlier years; and even the policy of Vane—who was a sincere champion of the rights of conscience, and the toleration of all religious opinions—from being associated with impracticable republican theories, was not calculated to prevent that deplorable result.

Cromwell, who alone at that moment had the sagacity to perceive to the full extent the mischiefs which threatened his country, therefore interposed, with an energy which was as startling as it was bold; and which is now acknowledged by numerous careful students of history to have proceeded[51] from wisdom as really profound as it was, at the time, apparently questionable. Upon the disappearance of the Long Parliament from the chapel of St. Stephen's, there followed the disappearance of Sir Harry Vane from the Cabinet of Whitehall. As an honest republican he could not but condemn the course pursued by his colleague; and the two men—who, with Marten, for some time after the establishment of the Commonwealth were the chief pillars of England—now stood parted from each other in this world for ever. The triumvirate was at an end. It had given place to a virtual monarchy.[43]

But though Cromwell dissolved the Long Parliament he had no idea of ruling England without the assistance of a popular assembly; and hence, within three months after that extraordinary event, a new Parliament was convened at Westminster.

The theory of its constitution was unique. It was to consist of men who were able, who loved the truth, who feared God, and who hated covetousness; so ran the terms employed in certain directions given to the Congregational churches to send up names to the Lord General,[44] out of[52] which list, together with another provided by the council of officers, the members of the new convention were to be selected. There were not wanting, at such a moment, people to tilt their jests—and they asked if the image of Him who rode into Jerusalem upon an ass was not a type of the new deliverer about to ride to a throne on the back of one hundred and twenty asses—that being the number of the Little Parliament.

Upon the list of the summoned appears the name of Dennis Hollister—a grocer in High Street, Bristol—a person who had great influence with the magistrates of the city, and who is described in the records of the church of which he was a member,[45] "as Diotrephes-like, loving to have the pre-eminence," and as "sucking in some principles of an upstart locust doctrine, from a sort of people afterwards called Quakers." If there be any truth in such a statement, this new member of Parliament must have been fanatical in one way, while his fellow-members were fanatical in another; and such conflicting phases of fanaticism made the settlement of ecclesiastical business in connexion with the State exceedingly difficult; rendering it necessary for Cromwell to interpose with his strong English common sense, unless affairs were left to fall to ruin. Fanatical people there must have been in this singularly constituted assembly, but it numbered also persons rationally religious; and even in the fanatics there might be redeeming qualities. What they said and did are the truest tests by which to judge of what they really were; and it will be seen, that amidst their follies,[53] some of their words and deeds were of a description not to be despised. Much is said of their birth and station; but the grocers and leather-sellers of that day might be rich and prosperous, and socially on a level with the merchants and cotton-lords, who, in our own time, sit upon the benches at Westminster.[46] There were of the number also, Lords, and Knights, and Colonels; and two of the individuals summoned, who afterwards sat in Charles the Second's House of Peers, as Earl of Albemarle and Earl of Shaftesbury, have been pronounced by history as certainly not the most respectable persons in the Little Parliament.

On the 4th of July, 1653—a very sultry day—the gentlemen met in the Whitehall Council Chamber, and seated themselves round the room on chairs. As Cromwell, with his officers, entered, all present rose and bowed. The General moved his hat, advanced to the middle window, and leaning on the back of a chair, addressed them for more than an hour. Descanting upon religion, he pleaded earnestly that all God's saints should be treated with tenderness, and that if he had seemed to reflect upon those who held Presbyterian opinions, he now thought faithfulness demanded that he should love them. He had, when God had been gracious to him and his companions, often read that passage: "He would plant in the wilderness the cedar, the shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and the oil tree; and He would set in the desert the fir tree, and the pine tree, and the box tree together. That they may see, and know, and consider, and understand together." Therefore he besought his audience to have care for the[54] whole flock—lambs and all—and if the poorest and most mistaken Christian should desire to live peaceably and quietly under the government, let him be protected. He pleaded for a faithful ministry, such as did not derive itself from the Papacy; the true succession being through the Holy Spirit. He never looked, he said, to see such a day as that he now witnessed, Jesus Christ being owned by all. The persons present might not personally be known to each other; but the endeavour in calling that New Parliament had been, not to choose any but such as had hope and faith in Christ. "The Lord," he observed, "shakes the hills and mountains, and they reel; and God hath a hill too, an high hill as the hill of Bashan, and the chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels, and God will dwell upon this hill for ever." Such a speech had never before been delivered at the opening of a Parliament.

When it was finished, a formal instrument devolving authority on the members was placed on the table, with the General's signature and seal, after which he left the Chamber,—politically "nothing more than the brewer's son of Huntingdon."[47]

Francis Rouse, provost of Eton, was elected speaker—before which proceeding the members prayed without a chaplain—"Eight or ten speaking in prayer to God, and some briefly from the Word." "Much of the presence of Christ and His Spirit," says a person who was present, "appearing that day to the great gladdening of the hearts of many—some affirming they never enjoyed so much of the spirit and presence of Christ, in any of the meetings and exercises of religion, in all their lives, as they did that day." On the day following[55] they again spent some time in prayer, and prayer, it is recorded, "was daily performed by one member or other, as they were found free to perform it." Presently again they devoted a day to prayer, which "was done by the members, principally by such as had not done service before, when also the Lord General was present, and it was a very comfortable day."[48] The Lord General had been specially invited to join the Assembly, together with Harrison, Desborough, Lambert, and Tomlinson.

Major-General Harrison—a rather noble though not refined-looking man, with flowing locks, irregular features, aquiline nose, and black eyes, often flashing with enthusiasm—had distinguished himself at Basinghouse, Preston, and elsewhere, as a stern soldier, and had been heard by Baxter breaking out into a rapture at Somerton. He was now getting deep in the study of prophecy, and was expecting the reign of the saints to succeed the four great monarchies described by the prophet Daniel. Desborough—a ruder and coarser man than Harrison, as his face, eyebrows, form, and gait all betokened—who had shewn himself a gallant soldier in the storming of Bristol, and had become brother-in-law to Oliver Cromwell—was an Independent, and, after the Restoration, became a member of Dr. Owen's church, in London. Major General Lambert—who had done good service in the wars, had routed the Scots at Linlithgow, and achieved daring feats at Worcester—was Cromwell's particular friend, and adhered to him throughout his career, when others turned their backs; a shrewd, clever, practical sort of person. Tomlinson, Colonel of the Guard at King[56] Charles' execution, was not, beyond that circumstance, at all a noteworthy individual.[49]

The Little Parliament altered the marriage law,[50] which, owing to recent confusion, and consequent irregularities in domestic life, needed amendment. Matrimony was considered by these new legislators in its relation to the State, and was treated by them simply in the character of a civil contract; possibly, in part at least, with the view of diminishing clerical influence, but also with so remarkable an insight into what is just and wise, as to anticipate modern legislation in this respect both in England and on the Continent. Parties were to obtain a certificate from the registrar of the parish, and then solemnly before a justice of the peace to take each other for husband and wife. The religious sanctions of the wedding bond were left entirely to the will of the parties united, and these sometimes were so connected with the secular part of the ceremony, that the service altogether resembled the solemnization of matrimony at the present day in a Nonconformist church in the presence of a registrar.[51]

The Parliament had scarcely commenced its sittings when it entered upon the consideration of the important[57] subject of tithes; and on the 15th of July, it was determined by a majority of twenty-five—in a House consisting of one hundred and eleven members—that the maintenance of ministers by tithes should not be continued after the 3rd day of November following. On the 19th of July, upon a renewal of the debate relative to this subject, the question whether incumbents possessed a propriety in this kind of income, was referred to the consideration of a committee specially appointed for that purpose. And to this same committee a different business was committed on the 26th of the next month. On that day were presented petitions from several churches in Devonshire and Gloucestershire, seeking the further reformation of religion, in connexion with which it was resolved: "That a committee be appointed to consider of some way to be propounded to the House, how ignorant, profane, and scandalous ministers may be rejected; That it be referred to the same committee to consider of some way to be propounded to the House, for the encouragement of such godly and able persons as shall preach the Gospel; and That it be referred to the committee for tithes."[52] The consideration of the question as to whether incumbents had any property in tithes having been previously entrusted to this committee, that question now became mixed up with the other relating to the character of the clergy; and what the Little Parliament ultimately did respecting the one has been supposed to have been a legislative decision of the other, which is not the fact.

Two parties were in contention, one disposed to retain[58] the old tithe system, the other bent upon supporting ministers in some other way. Harrison led the latter division, and occupied the extreme left in relation to the moderates, who were swayed by Cromwell, and who, as to tithes, agreed with both the Presbyterian and Episcopal parties. The House generally concurred in the opinion that the collection of tithes by the clergy was a grievance; yet perhaps only a few members were prepared to vote for putting an end to that method of support without the provision of some legal substitute. These few, following Harrison, were intent on having the impost repealed at once, leaving only such other provision "as God should direct." A distinction was admitted throughout the debate between the claims of impropriators and the claims of incumbents. The whole House was willing to compensate impropriators in case of the forfeiture of their rights. It was the case of incumbents alone which came under the consideration of the committee. The utmost measure of change formally proposed was, to put an end to the payment of the clergy in the old way, and to equalize benefices by reducing those of £200 per annum and upwards, and by increasing smaller incomes. It was also suggested that a provision should be made to meet the wants of ministers' widows and children.[53]

The larger question respecting ignorant, profane, and scandalous ministers, involved also the minor one touching presentation to benefices; the predominant feeling of the members favoured the right of congregations to choose their own pastors. The[59] Puritan current had long been setting in that direction, and arguments were now urged to the effect that it was unreasonable for people not to be allowed to select their own spiritual guides; much, in short, being advanced upon the subject, of the same kind as is common in the present day. The parties having a pecuniary interest in the maintenance of things as they were, did all they could to keep on their side the men in power. Such people sought protection from the Lord General against what they deemed Parliament-robbery. However, on the 17th of November, the right of presentation to benefices by patrons was condemned by a resolution, and a bill in accordance with it was ordered to be brought in. The effect of this decision was to place the election of the clergy in the hands of parishioners.

On the 2nd of December came the long-expected and much-dreaded report of the Tithe Committee. It first recommended the sending forth of certain authorized commissioners to enquire into ministerial character, and next it gave a deliverance with regard to ministerial maintenance. As this portion of the report is so imperfectly explained by historians, we will present it to the reader as it is printed in the journals:—

"Resolved—That it be presented to the Parliament: That all such as are, or shall be approved for public preachers of the Gospel in the public meeting-places, shall have and enjoy the maintenance already settled by law, and such other encouragement as the Parliament already hath appointed, or hereafter shall appoint; and that where any scruple payment of tithes, the three next justices of the peace, or two of them, shall, upon complaint, call the parties concerned before them, and by the oaths of lawful witnesses shall duly apportion the value of the said tithes, to be paid either in money[60] or land, by them to be set out according to the said value, to be held and enjoyed by him that was to have the said tithes; and, in case such apportioned value be not duly paid or enjoyed, according to the order of the said justices, the tithes shall be paid in kind, and shall be recovered in any court of record. Upon hearing and considering what hath been offered to this Committee touching propriety in tithes of incumbents, rectors, possessors of donatives, or propriate tithes, it is the opinion of this Committee, and resolved to be so reported to the Parliament, that the said persons have a legal propriety in tithes."[54]

An earnest debate ensued, "managed day by day," says one who was present, "with very great seriousness, many arguments and Scriptures being alleged," and "very little of heat or passion being shewed all that time, only one gentleman or two that were for the report, seeing themselves and their party so engaged, flew out a little, complaining of the expense of time, to have given a check to the going on of the debate."[55] The first part of the report, relating to the method of removing scandalous ministers, upon being put to the vote, was rejected by a majority of two, fifty-six voting against fifty-four. The second part, relating to the mode of supporting ministers, and the rights of property possessed by incumbents, was not put to the vote at all. The probable rejection of it might be inferred, but no formal rejection was expressed. What is sometimes represented as the decided abolition of tithes amounted to no more than the rejection of a Committee of Triers. That Committee was a favourite scheme of Cromwell's, and was afterwards by him[61] practically carried out; he also favoured the continuance of the old method of supporting ministers. But the Little Parliament indicated a wish to change that method; yet what they decided now, and even their distinct votes against tithes in the preceding July, did not necessarily imply that they intended to terminate altogether the state maintenance of religious worship.[56]

It is desirable here once more to pause, and to consider the opinions of Fifth Monarchy men, who were at this time becoming very numerous and very active.

They may be divided into three classes. The first was composed of mere millenarians, who entertained views not essentially different from those which had been held in ancient times with regard to the reign of Christ upon the earth; and whatever may be thought of these persons in some other respects, their opinions cannot be regarded as involving anything discreditable to their reputation, inasmuch as in substance those opinions had received the sanction of a great scholar,[62] Henry Mead, and of a distinguished philosopher, Henry Moore.

The second class consisted of theoretical theocrats, people who talked in an extravagant manner respecting Divine dominion, and generally opposed the authority of Oliver Cromwell; yet they appear to have been inoffensive persons, not at all disposed to attempt any violent measures for the realization of their wild and mystical dreams. John Tillinghurst, the now forgotten author of several publications on prophecy, which were popular at the time of which we are speaking, belonged to this order of anti-Cromwell millenarians, who were very bold and busy, but for the most part very harmless. Some of them wrote and preached with great confidence upon the prophecies of Daniel and the Revelations of St. John, only to find, in a short time, their theories exploded by the criticism of facts.

But the third class included a number of practical theocrats who blended republican ideas with their theological speculations, and who were quite disposed, whenever the opportunity offered, to open by force a path by which the saints might advance to the government of the world. Venner before and after the Restoration went even this length; and Harrison, although a different man from Venner, was also a military theologian, ready with carnal weapons to cast down strongholds. Certain Anabaptists also belonged to the same division.

The fifth monarchy fever, in its fanatical symptoms, threatened much mischief to English society. As in the tenth century the notion then so common throughout Europe—that the end of the world had come, that the whole social fabric had crumbled away, and was to give place to an order of things just on the point of descending from heaven—proceeded from the existing confusion of the[63] age; so the prevalence of fifth monarchy dreams, in the earlier part of the Commonwealth, was aided, no doubt, by the convulsions which had so rudely shaken the whole of the British Empire. The actual overthrow of the hierarchy, the peerage, and the throne, with the desolations of civil war, and the disturbance of the whole country, could not but throw the minds of many into a maddening whirl, and dash them completely off their balance. Fifth monarchism arose, in a great measure, out of the ruins of English monarchism. The enthusiastic visions which absorbed certain minds were, to a large extent, the effect of prevalent disorder. Men's brains were crazed by what they had recently witnessed, and their insanity created omens of other things, brighter or more terrible, which were yet to come.

During the sittings of the Little Parliament, the fifth monarchy delusion reached its height; and to that delusion, though not to that alone, may be attributed, as to their cause, certain incidents which, although exaggerated by both Clarendon and Baxter, were not by any means imaginary. These writers speak of this period, as if the very existence of the Christian ministry, of rational religion, of the two Universities, and of Christian learning in general, were then on the point of complete extinction.[57] Things certainly were not in that condition. What was actually done in reference to the support of the clergy has been already described, and it[64] can by no means be made to sustain the sweeping assertions of those authors; yet, notwithstanding, the interests of the great seats of education were placed in fearful jeopardy, as will appear when we have to notice the history of the University of Oxford at that time; nor can it be denied that the demolition of some noble ecclesiastical edifices had been contemplated even before the breaking up of the Long Parliament. The Norwich Corporation, so early as 1650, debated what should be done with the cathedral of that city; and in the same year, Yarmouth was seeking to share in the spoil.[58] Further still, on the 9th of July, 1652, it was referred to a committee by the House of Commons, to consider this question: "What cathedrals are fit to stand, and what to be pulled down." Such intended destruction betokened other spoliations, and the Long Parliament having set such an example, the Little Parliament had encouragement to proceed in a similar path.

The proceedings of Harrison and his party could not fail to alarm the Presbyterians; even the Independents, with Cromwell at their head, in spite of their broad views of ecclesiastical questions, were also convinced that nothing but confusion could result from the wild schemes of republican visionaries and Fifth Monarchists. The country could not feel confidence in those who formed the slight majority of the House, and sober-minded men apprehended nothing but ruin from the continuance of[65] their power. The Parliament itself, with such an even balance of parties, and amidst so much distraction, had a consciousness of its own incapacity, which led the members speedily to resign their powers into the Lord General's hands.[59]

This resignation, Cromwell's acceptance of it, and his consequent assumption of supreme authority, drove the millenarian democrats into a still more violent expression of extravagant views, and into still more decidedly energetic opposition to the Lord General. Preachers of that day, in close alliance with Harrison, advocated in the pulpit the cause which he and his party upheld in the senate. A House at Blackfriars is repeatedly mentioned in contemporary letters as the head quarters of this menacing agitation. Feake—a well-known Anabaptist and Fifth Monarchy man—there held forth in a strain of rude eloquence, and greatly distinguished himself as leader of a large band of sympathizing disciples. To letters written by contemporaries we are chiefly indebted for what we know of the proceedings of these enthusiasts.

"I know not," says the writer of an intercepted epistle, "whether you have formerly heard of the Monday's lecture at Blackfriars, where three or four of the Anabaptistical ministers preach constantly, with very great bitterness, against the present Government, but especially against his Excellency, calling him 'the man of sin,' 'the old dragon,' and many other scripture ill names; the chief of them is one Feake, a bold and crafty orator, and of high reputation amongst them. It has been wondered the General has so patiently permitted them; but yester[66]day I heard the true reason of it, which is, that he cannot help it, for they preach by an Act of the late Parliament, which the council of state cannot over-rule, and this Parliament will not abolish it; but on Tuesday last, as I take it, they were called before a private committee, where your General was present, who told them that the ill odour they had cast upon the Government has given confidence to our enemies abroad and at home, (meaning the Scots,) and would bring the Parliament into contempt; and that whatsoever ill effect followed, they must be accountable for it. Feake replied that he desired that what the General said and what he answered might be recorded in heaven; and that it was his tampering with the king, and his assuming an exorbitant power, which made these disorders; and so held forth the Fifth Monarchy. The General answered, that when he heard him begin with a record in heaven, he did not expect that he would have told such a lie upon earth; but assured him that whensoever they should be harder pressed by the enemy than they yet had been, it would be necessary to begin first with them; and so dismissed them. I forgot to tell you that the General had brought Sterry,[60] and two or three more of his ministers, to oppose spirit to spirit, and to advise Feake and the rest to obedience, as the most necessary way to bring in the kingdom of Christ. But it is believed we shall have very much trouble from the Anabaptists, yet it is thought their power is nothing so great in the army as in the House; they have none above a captain of their party besides Harrison, who, it is thought, will betray all the rest: but whether the General will ease himself of those in the House by the old way of purging, or the new one[67] of dissolving, rests in his own and his officers' breasts."[61]

The district of Blackfriars claimed to be independent of the municipal authorities of London. The inhabitants asserted an inheritance of the privileges of sanctuary, formerly pertaining to that famous monastery which had given its name to the neighbourhood. Hence, to find shelter and protection within the precincts of the ancient foundation, players, who had been driven out of the city, here erected a theatre; and Papists, who were proscribed by law, here assembled for worship. And it is not a little curious that Puritans also were somewhat numerous in the same locality; a fact which is indicated by their presenting what seems to have been an influential petition to the Lords of the Privy Council against the continuance of stage-plays by their dramatic neighbours.[62] Blackfriars, as we have seen, is also mentioned among the places in which certain Nonconformists were wont to meet in the first quarter of the seventeenth century; and in this same place we now meet with an Anabaptist assembly listening to the popular preachers of millenarianism.

A letter from an eye-witness communicates additional information respecting these meetings. The writer states that he had been to one of them, and had heard Feake preach upon the subject of the little horn described in the book of Daniel; and he states that in the course of the sermon the preacher exclaimed, "I know some would have the late King Charles to be meant by this little horn; but as I said at first, I'll name nobody. God will make it clear shortly to His people who is meant here." When[68] Feake had concluded his portion of the service, Vavasour Powell continued to discourse on the same subject, in a similar strain of interpretation—still more explicitly reflecting on public men and measures than his predecessor had done—interpreting the king of the north to signify the late monarch, and inveighing bitterly against the military commanders of the day, as the sole cause of the pressure of taxation. The leading points of the sermon were, that Christ was setting up a fifth monarchy in the world; that a spirit of prophecy had been communicated to the saints, whereby they were enabled to describe future events; and that the design of Christ was to destroy all antichristian forms, including established churches together with their clergy. Upon this third particular, the reporter states that Powell was somewhat copious, and said "they must down, though they were never so strongly protected, for Christ is none of their Lord Protectors, though the army-men protect them." "Yes," said he, "and rather than those shall down, they will pull Parliaments in pieces, and this made them break the last Parliament; for on Saturday, the 10th of December, the House refused to settle a commission of ministers to ride in circuits, as the judges did, and judge who were fit to be continued or put out of their livings, and so to maintain them upon the old corrupt foundation still. And when the House would not yield that these antichristian clergymen and tithes should be upheld, then, on Monday following, in the morning, they were thrust out (I mean the few honest men of them that were present) by violence; and the rest (as they had agreed beforehand) went and subscribed their names to a paper giving up their authority in the name of the whole; whereas none of the honest men would subscribe or surrender, save only some[69] three or four, who have since professed their hearty sorrow to me for it. This is true, and we must speak it out, for our mouths shall not be stopped with paper-proclamations." ... Further, in relation to the Parliament, he remarked, "they were broken by force, and it was a business plotted by the great army-men, clergymen, and their party together." ... Powell afterwards "flew into many strange ejaculations, 'Lord! what have our army-men all apostatized from their principles? What is become of all their declarations, protestations, and professions? Are they choked with lands, and parks, and manors? Let us go home, and pray, and say, 'Lord, wilt Thou have Oliver Cromwell to reign over us, or Jesus Christ to reign over us.'" "I know," he proceeded, "there are many gracious souls in the army, and of good principles, but the greater they grow, the more they are corrupted with lands and honours. I'll tell you, it was a common proverb that we had among us of the General, that in the field he was the graciousest and most gallant man in the world; but out of the field, and when he came home to government, the worst." This strange preacher told his congregation that "snares were laid for them, and spies set over them, and that they might be deprived of the benefit of meeting in that place. But then (said he) we will meet at another, and if we be driven thence, we will meet at private houses, and if we cannot have liberty there, we will into the fields, and if we be driven thence, we will into corners, for we will never give over, and God will not permit this spirit to go down. He will be the support of the spirits of His people. He complained also of the faltering of divers who had formerly been very forward at this meeting, but now drew[70] back, and therefore he prayed that the Lord would hold up the meeting."[63]

Powell having concluded, somebody seated in one corner of the gallery began to speak, and would have replied to the preacher; but, though he strained his voice with the utmost violence to overcome the outcries of the congregation, he was compelled, after half-an-hour's tumult, to hold his peace. A Mr. Colaine, amidst the confusion, ascended the pulpit, and afterwards expounded the fifth chapter of Hosea, representing the state of things in England as parallel to that which the prophet portrayed, and inveighing strongly against the national clergy of Antichrist, and the parochial priests of Baal.

According to another letter, personal allusions to Cromwell even yet more violent occurred in the discourses of these misguided men. Powell and Feake called him "the dissemblingist perjured villain in the world," and desired any friends of his, who might be present, to go and report this to him, adding, that the Protector's reign would be short, and "that he should be served worse than that great tyrant the last Lord Protector was, he being altogether as bad, if not worse than he."[64]

These fanatics threw themselves with earnestness into the Dutch war. That conflict, looking at the political and religious character of the combatants, strikes us as very strange, both parties being republicans, and both being defenders of religious liberty: but it had arisen from commercial and maritime rivalries, into which additional bitterness had been shed by the natural sympathies of[71] the Prince of Orange with the Stuart family. A confederation of the two commonwealths, for the promotion of civil freedom and the interests of Protestantism throughout Europe, formed an English dream at the end of the civil wars; and what had at first been contemplated as a subject for peaceful negotiation was afterwards absurdly sought to be accomplished by naval battles. The republican zeal and Protestant fervour of Feake and his friends enlisted them on the side of a thorough union between the two states, and they stipulated for it as an indispensable condition of peace. That England should persevere till Holland could be yoked to her in humble submission for the attainment of these civil and religious ends, constituted a staple theme in the harangues at Blackfriars. Conciliation and compromise were condemned. The preachers denounced in the wildest way the statesman-like views of Cromwell, who felt anxious to put an end to the deadly struggle of two countries, between which policy as well as justice dictated alliance with mutual independence. His opponents did all they could to stir up the people of England against the Netherlanders, and one of the Dutch deputies, who went to hear them, wrote home, declaring that their sermons were "most horrid trumpets of fire, murder, and flame."[65] Millenarianism[72] thus became mixed up with political schemes; and these Commonwealth visionaries believed that God had given Holland to the English as a "landing place of the saints, whence they should proceed to pluck the whore of Babylon from her chair, and to establish the kingdom of Christ on the Continent."[66]

Between the resignation of the Little Parliament on the 12th of October, and the date of the last of these letters, a great change had come over the government of England. Cromwell and his council of officers, "after several days seeking of God," had determined formally to avow the perpetuation of what was already a fact—that supreme authority should rest in a single person, even in Oliver himself. His title was to be "Lord Protector," and with[73] him was to be associated "a council of godly, able, and discreet persons," consisting of not more than twenty-one.

On Friday, the 16th of December, about three o'clock in the afternoon, his Highness went in procession from Whitehall to the Court of Chancery in Westminster. Commissioners of the Great Seal, scarlet-robed Judges and Barons, and the Lord Mayor and Corporation of London, with the usual accompaniments of civic splendour, were in attendance on the occasion. There on a dais stood a chair of state, near to a table on which lay a roll of parchment, containing, in a summary of forty-two articles, the fundamental principles of the Protectorate government.[67] His Highness having subscribed the document, and having sworn to maintain the constitution which it prescribed, sat down on his throne, and then received into his hands the great seal of the realm, the Lord Mayor's sword, and the cap of maintenance. His portrait at that moment has been sketched in the following graphic words: "Fifty-four years old gone April last; brown hair and moustache are getting gray;" "massive stature; big massive head, of somewhat leonine aspect—wart above the right eye-brow; nose of considerable blunt aquiline proportions; strict yet copious lips, full of all tremulous sensibilities, and also, if need were, of all fierceness and rigours; deep, loving eyes, call them grave, call them stern, looking from under those craggy brows as if in life-long sorrow."[68]

As the Protector returned to Whitehall, the Lord Mayor, uncovered, carried the sword before him; and in the banqueting house, Mr. Lockier, the Protector's[74] chaplain, delivered an exhortation; after which the Lord Mayor, the Aldermen, and the Judges all departed home.[69]

A very wonderful day's work was that of the 16th of December.[70] It was an act of usurpation beyond all[75] doubt, yet one which it would be pedantic to criticise according to constitutional rules. For when a house is catching fire, or a vessel is on the edge of a rock, people in their senses do not expect that a strong man, who can extinguish the flame, or steer the ship into open waters, should stand on ceremony and wait for red-tape formalities. A crisis had come, such as must come in the wake of great revolutions, when, however firmly we may maintain Locke's principles of the origin of government, we find people in such a state of perfect helplessness, and former rulers so utterly destitute of power to rule, so incapable, so inevitably rushing to destruction, dragging the whole country along with them—that in mercy to mankind we feel all theories woven of the wisest webs must be laid aside, and a competently skilful hand be allowed to gather up the scattered threads in such fashion as it may be able. Public affairs had now reached such a crisis that the alternative was a Protector or destruction, Cromwell or chaos. The fire long kindling now at length burst into a blaze, and there was only one man who could put an end to the conflagration. The ship was within an inch of foundering, and there remained but one pilot who had the power of steering her off the rocks.

The Church, it should be recollected, had not ceased to be a State Church. The constant discussion of its affairs by Parliament and the Council of State implied its continued subjection to secular control. No scheme of severance had been propounded, though certain proposals had been made which might seem to involve such a result. However desirable it may appear to some of our readers that the civil and ecclesiastical[76] powers in a country should stand each on its own basis, and not interfere with one another's action; whatever anticipations may be formed of a new and better era of Christian civilization, to be inaugurated when a separation of the Church from the State shall take place, subject to the authority of New Testament teaching, aided by the lights of experience through the exercise of political sagacity, and under the inspiration of Christian disinterestedness; yet every one must see that the time had not then come for such a revolution. Such a revolution involved not only the settlement of questions touching ecclesiastical property and revenue, but also the determination of two other points, namely, that religion should be left to its own unfettered exercise, and that no man should be disqualified by his theological opinions for the discharge of the offices and the enjoyment of the honours of the State. Now, without doing injustice to the character of the Little Parliament, we certainly may go so far as to say that it never indicated the possession of that clearsightedness, that deep wisdom, and that broad sympathy which are essential to the satisfactory solution of the practical problems included in the change just indicated. The members had neither the intellectual nor the moral qualifications requisite for the task. It was in those days more difficult than it is at present to draw the line where free religious action comes to an end, and something else quite different from it begins; for millenarian opinions ran over into Fifth Monarchy schemes, and the Dutch wars had become mixed up in men's brains with the dominion of the saints. The Little Parliament lacked the mental power necessary in those days for carrying out the doctrines of voluntaryism, even had they understood them. But they did not understand them. Had they done so, they[77] would not have clung to the idea in any form, of the State supporting the Christian ministry, nor would they have cherished the conviction that certain theological qualifications are indispensable for the discharge of political trusts.

And further, if the Little Parliament had been composed of the wisest of mortals, and had plainly and skilfully propounded a system of pure voluntaryism, such as is ably and successfully advocated in our own time, still, with the Presbyterians all against them; with many of the Independents against them; and with the Episcopalians also against them; in short, with the bulk of the wealth, of the intelligence, and of the power of the country against them—how useless would have been their attempts to work out the measure. Common sense teaches, and voluntaryism in its very nature implies, that before it can be established as the exclusive method of dealing with spiritual interests, a very large number of those who have to adopt it must be convinced of its wisdom. And as to the alternative of revising the Establishment, and placing it upon grounds adapted to the needs of existing society, that also was an undertaking which, it is needless to repeat, the Little Parliament did not accomplish, and one, too, with which the whole history of that Assembly proved that it was utterly incompetent to deal. The whole web of ecclesiastical affairs had raveled out, and it devolved on a more than ordinarily skilful hand to gather up the threads and arrange them in some sort of order.

Cromwell ever shewed himself to be a practical man, by no means wedded to any fine-spun theory. No ideal republic, such as was conceived by Plato or by Harrington, floated before his imagination. In this respect a marked[78] distinction existed between him and his contemporaries of the philosophical schools which were led by Sir Harry Vane and Algernon Sidney; and, as in pure politics, so in ecclesiastical politics, he aimed simply at accomplishing what he saw to be practicable. His strong religious feelings, the mystic cast of his piety, his enthusiastic faith in prayer and providence, never turned him aside from plain paths of human action, where he could get common people to walk and work beside him. Whatever idea he might have had as to what was best in itself, and under other circumstances than those of England in his own day, then rocking with the throes of revolution, certainly the plan which he adopted was not that of attempting the exclusive establishment of a voluntary system of supporting religion. He saw that to alienate church property from sacred uses—had he wished to do so—would arouse against him at once all the Presbyterians of the country, and would give them a rallying point and a battle cry quite sufficient to render them irresistible. He knew, that supported in this respect by Episcopalians, and not without sympathy amongst Independents, the Presbyterians would have protested against spoliation, and would have contended for the inviolateness of tithe property with a temper too fierce and with an amount of influence too strong for any government to resist with success. He perceived the wisdom of conciliating the Presbyterian party, and even on that ground he would shrink from provoking them by the confiscation of all church revenues. His keen eye also discerned such a spirit in some of the sects, such violent anti-social principles abroad, such elements seething in the cauldron of religious excitement, that he felt it would not be safe to leave all theological teachers at that time to do and say just what they liked without any sort of legal restraint. The liberty which he believed[79] it just and right to concede in reference to the discussion of simple questions of divinity, he did not consider it just and right to afford to all sorts of semi-political agitations; which, under the cover of prophetical study and of transcendental schemes of society, directly tended to overthrow all law and order, and with law and order, the very liberty which such enthusiasts themselves really desired to enthrone.

What, then, was the kind of National Church which Cromwell's practical sagacity led him to establish? Though he might not work according to any definite theory, and was mainly prompted by the quick insight of his own genius, yet there could not but be some principles lying at the basis of his operations. Three politico-ecclesiastical theories of union may be entertained: that of the Church's mistress-ship over the State, that of the Church's servitude to the State, and that of the Church's marriage with the State. What the Lord Protector aimed at accomplishing appears far removed from the first of these. He would not allow Presbyters, or Pastors, or Preachers of any kind, any more than Anglican Priests, to lord it over the people. He would carry the staff in his own hands. At the same time, he did not put the Church in perfect servitude. Though Erastian in one way, his method of ecclesiastical government does not appear to have been so in another. Whilst the appointment and recognition of ministers receiving State pay were placed under the authority of persons who owed their official position to State appointment, yet the inner working, the worship, and the discipline of Churches continued to be left free to a very large extent. Perhaps, on the whole, Cromwell's Broad Church embodied more of the idea of the marriage of the Church with the[80] State than any other Establishment which ever existed.[71]

His ecclesiastical policy rested on five principles:—State recognition, State control, State support, State protection, and State penalties. How those principles were developed in Cromwell's administration will be seen in the next chapter.

CHAPTER IV.

To prevent confusion, let it be distinctly stated at once, that in tracing the form which the new ecclesiastical establishment assumed under the impress of Cromwell's genius, we confine ourselves in this chapter to the legislation of nine months; consisting of those ordinances which were issued between the end of the Little Parliament, in December, 1653, and the opening of the first Protectorate Parliament, in September, 1654. During this period, the foundations of the Protector's ecclesiastical policy were laid.

I. State Recognition.—The articles of government—the conception and inspiration of which must be regarded as proceeding from Cromwell—distinctly declared "that the Christian religion, as contained in the Scriptures, be held forth and recommended as the public profession of these nations."[72] Christianity being thus recognized as part and parcel of the law of the land, the sanctions of religion were introduced at the inauguration of the Protector; the solemnities of worship and of preaching were connected with all special public acts; and the exercises of devotion constantly accompanied the ordinary business of[82] Parliament. The State continued to recognize religion by the appointment of fast days, which were of frequent occurrence; whilst the Scotch brethren objected to this exercise of civil authority as an Erastian intrusion into the spiritual realm.[73] Preachers, both Presbyterian and Independent, were appointed on these occasions; and a fast day sometimes was solemnized by a service which lasted from nine o'clock in the morning until four in the afternoon.

By an express article, all who professed the Roman Catholic religion were disabled from voting, as well as from being elected; and as the Act which had been passed against execrable opinions, treated as culprits and subjected to penalties those who opposed Christianity, it virtually deprived all such persons of the electoral franchise. Infidels and heretics, also, who attacked or undermined the foundations of the Christian faith, forfeited the rights of denizenship. But these laws did not affect the social position of any individuals who professed Protestantism in any of its usually-recognized forms of orthodoxy. All the "sects" were accepted as citizens. So were the Presbyterians. And, although Prelacy was forbidden, there was nothing which could legally prevent an Episcopalian from going to the poll to give or receive the vote of a freeman. Still, we must not forget that, since the Common Prayer Book had been prohibited, any one who persisted in using its formularies might have both his franchise and his freedom brought into peril.[74] From these facts, it is evident that England under the[83] Protectorate was, in theory, a religious Commonwealth; that the State possessed a spiritual as well as a secular character; that Christianity was considered essential to the welfare of society; and that an irreligious man was not regarded as a faithful subject. But this theory of the Commonwealth as a Christian State must not be confounded with the theory of the National Church as connected with the Commonwealth. The lines of limitation in the two cases were not the same. Considerable differences existed between the Christianity which entitled all its disciples to the franchise of the citizen and the Christianity which entitled its ministerial advocates to the support of the State. What those differences were will be indicated as we proceed.

II. State Control.—The laws made certain distinctions between what was civil and what was sacred. They followed the early legislation of the Long Parliament by withdrawing all secular matters from ecclesiastical authority. Wills received careful attention from the Little Parliament in 1653, when commissioners were appointed to superintend that business, and to grant administrations "in the late provinces of Canterbury and York." Their powers were defined, and the probate fees to be taken by registrars were, after the payment of expenses, to be appropriated to the support of the navy. The Act of 1653 was revived in 1654, and more commissioners were added to the existing number.[75]

[84]

The main control over the Church consisted, not in any Act of Uniformity—nor in the establishment of a particular creed—nor in the maintenance of a simple mode of worship, but in the appointment of a spiritual tribunal, invested with the power of determining who were fitting persons to fulfil the Christian ministry. In the month of March, 1653-4, an ordinance appeared,[76] reciting that there had been no certain method adopted for supplying vacancies with able ministers, in consequence of which the rights of patrons had been prejudiced, and "weak, scandalous, popish, and ill-affected persons had intruded themselves, or been brought in, to the great grief and trouble of the good people of this nation." As a remedy, it was ordained that every person presented to a benefice, or appointed to a lecture, should be approved by certain Commissioners who were named for that purpose. No mention is made of any standard of faith, of any mode of worship, or of any scheme of polity. Episcopacy, Presbyterianism, Independency, anti-Pædobaptism—in[85] short, particular forms of Christianity are entirely unnamed and unnoticed. In general terms, power was vested in the Commissioners:—they were to grant admission to the ministry; their certificate being a sufficient induction; but a vote of exclusion did not acquire validity unless nine members were present at the time when the vote was passed. Appointments made by these Commissioners did not interfere with the rights of patronage. They had no authority to dispose of Church benefices, or to elect lecturers; but only to determine upon the qualifications of those whom the patrons presented or the people chose. Nor did the law construe the decision of these judges "to be any solemn or sacred setting apart of a person to any particular office in the ministry." In short, the Commissioners formed a board, and nothing more, for the examination of persons who presented themselves for the ministerial office. So far, it bore a likeness to the Assembly of Divines, for they had exercised similar functions in the examination of clergymen; but then they had been more numerous, and had been wont to consult Church standards and formularies for the guidance of their judgment. Nothing of the sort limited the power of the new Commissioners, and, moreover, their unfettered power was lodged in comparatively few hands. Some creed, statute, canon, or established usage, had in all similar cases been recognized as a rule of action; but in this instance everything was left for determination by the wisdom or the will of irresponsible functionaries.[77] No[86] distinct articles of faith were prescribed. No subscription whatever was enforced.[78] The only way to form an idea of the character of a Church so circumstanced is to infer what it must have been from the known opinions and characters of such powerful officers. The Commission was composed of men of very different characters. Some had much prejudice and party spirit, with little judgment, and less charity. No confidence could be placed in Hugh Peters, and in others of a similar stamp; but there were amongst the members individuals of great wisdom and large benevolence—such as Manton, Goodwin, Owen, and many more. Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists were of the number; and, so far, the constitution of the tribunal permitted access to benefices by ministers[87] belonging to all three denominations. The proportion of different religious parties in the commission suggests what was likely to be the proportion of those admitted to preferment. Nothing hindered the admission of the members of any sect whatever, not even Episcopalians, provided they did not use the Book of Common Prayer; and such persons actually were admitted; but it is not probable that many would be included in the establishment who occupied a position far beyond the circle of the Commissioners' opinions.

Another tribunal appeared in August, 1654, for ejecting "scandalous, ignorant, and insufficient ministers and schoolmasters."[79] Unlike the former, this Commission branched out into manifold divisions, which, in fact, formed ecclesiastical courts of assize, spreading over the whole country. Long lists of distinguished laymen are contained in the ordinance—including the names of the Lords Wharton, Fairfax, Lisle, Say and Sele, Sir A. Haselrig, Sir Anthony A. Cooper, and Nathaniel Fiennes. They were to bring before them all clergymen and teachers who were punishable by the Act against blasphemous opinions, or who were guilty of profanity, perjury, popish opinions, adultery, fornication, drunkenness, haunting taverns, quarrelling, fighting, playing at cards or dice, or profaning the Sabbath day. So ran the enumeration of the first class of scandals, cognizable by these judges. Then came words pointing to such as had publicly and frequently used the Common Prayer Book since the first of January last, or should at any time afterwards do so; such as publicly and profanely scoffed at or reviled the strict profession or professors of religion or godliness, or encouraged, or countenanced, "by word or practice, any[88] Whitsun ales, wakes, Morris-dances, May-poles, stage-plays," or similar licentious practices; and such as declared their disaffection to the present government. As to "negligent" ministers, they are defined to be "non-residents," and such as omitted the public exercise of preaching and praying on the Lord's Day: but "the ignorant and insufficient" are not defined at all, they are left to be declared and judged by the Commissioners in every county, or by any five of them, together with five of the ministers mentioned in the ordinance. To them, therefore, in this respect, remained a wide margin of discretion, and individuals guiltless of the scandals and offences before enumerated—yet being charged in general terms by their parishioners with ministerial incompetency—were left to the mercy and the conscience of these lay and clerical assessors. Their character was the only guarantee that justice would be administered; and sometimes proofs appeared shewing how perilous a thing it was to the interests of the parties arraigned that even to men of established integrity there should be entrusted such large powers, especially at a time when party spirit on all sides ran so high.

III. State Support.—The articles of government declared, that as soon as might be, a provision less subject to contention and more certain than the one existing should be made for the maintenance of "able and painful" teachers, for instructing the people, and for the discovery and confutation of error, heresy, and whatever is contrary to sound doctrine. But until such provision could be devised, the existing maintenance was not to be taken away or impeached. Also the ordinances of 1647, as to tithes, were in 1654 declared to remain in full force; and further still, for the more efficient support of the ministry, an ordinance of the 2nd of September, 1654,[89] directed that there should be a union of small parishes and a division of large ones—authority for that purpose being vested in a Commission, according to a common plan then adopted in all business of that description.[80]

The Long Parliament, in the month of February, 1648, had commanded churchwardens and overseers of the poor to assess every inhabitant of a parish, in such sums as those officers should think proper; no mention being made of holding any vestry meetings whatever for that purpose. The law declared that such rates should be appropriated for repairing the fabric of the church, and keeping in order the churchyard and walls; for providing books to be used in Divine worship; and for the bread and wine required in the administration of the Lord's supper. When the rate had been confirmed by two justices of the peace, the churchwardens were authorized and required to levy payment and to recover by "distress" where payment was refused. The justices, "in default of such distress," might commit the defaulter to the common gaol.[81] This church-rate law remained unrepealed, and therefore was available for the support of worship by all those who were now incorporated in the Establishment. In the ordinance of 1654, for uniting and for severing parishes, reference is made to rates, taxes, parochial rights, charges and duties, as acknowledged sources of revenue.[82]

IV. State Protection.—The Articles of Government extended protection, within certain limits, to professing Christians who did not share in the resources and immu[90]nities of the State Church. Religious compulsion was forbidden, religious persuasion was recommended; and it was expressly declared, "That such as profess faith in God by Jesus Christ (though differing in judgment from the doctrine, worship, or discipline publicly held forth), shall not be restrained from, but shall be protected in, the profession of the faith and exercise of their religion, so as they abuse not this liberty to the civil injury of others, and to the actual disturbance of the public peace on their parts, provided this liberty be not extended to Popery nor Prelacy, nor to such as under the profession of Christ hold forth and practise licentiousness."[83] The shield of the law was thus placed over all Protestant sects whose liberty in no way threatened the security of the Government.

V. State Penalties.—First, the Papists were deprived of all religious freedom and of all political rights, and this act of injustice was perpetrated as a retaliation which their own habitual intolerance had provoked; and as a precaution which the tendency of their system and their Jesuitical and treasonable practices had rendered expedient. The circumstances in which Prelatists were placed by the legislation of the Long Parliament have been explained. These circumstances remained unaltered; and Prelacy was now conjoined with Popery in the prohibition expressed by the articles. The supporters of Prelacy were known to be disaffected to the Government, and whenever that disaffection manifested itself in overt acts, the magistrates were justified in punishing the offenders; but to inflict penalties for using the Prayer Book was an unrighteous proceeding, no more to be excused than was the persecution of Nonconformists for their worship, after[91] the Restoration. Sometimes that persecution has been defended or its guilt has been extenuated on the ground that the very religion of the Separatists made them disloyal; persons who condemn that plea as being insult added to injury must not set up a similar one on behalf of the rulers of the Commonwealth. After the mention of Prelacy in the articles comes a denial of freedom to such as maintained tenets inimical to the principles of public morality and order;[84] Fifth Monarchists, therefore, preaching after the fashion of Feake and Vavasour Powell, brought themselves within the scope of penal laws. So did some well-known disorderly fanatics, who hung on the skirts of Quakerism. Socinians likewise came under the legislative ban. As the statute against blasphemous opinions remained in force, all persons suspected of holding them were liable to be brought before the magistrate. Yet it should be stated that Cromwell checked as much as he could the severe application of this penal code: and when a Parliament, under his control, undertook to specify what particulars were embraced by the general title of heresy, there was so much caution exercised lest words expressing vague ideas should subject "the godly party to some danger of suffering," that not[92] until after much debate could even the word atheism be allowed "to be part of the question."[85]

Such were the principles of Cromwell's ecclesiastical policy, and in it may be seen a singular combination of boldness and caution. Of boldness—for he fearlessly innovated upon the ancient principles and precedents of the kingdom, and also defied the prejudices of contemporary bigots by throwing open the Establishment to different sects, and by conceding toleration to all whose opinions and proceedings did not imperil the stability of his republic. Of caution—for he shrank from committing himself to theories of voluntary church support, and of thorough church independence, however those theories might be advocated by some with whom he would be regarded as having considerable sympathy. And the more his policy is examined, the plainer will it appear to be distinguished by originality no less than by the qualities we have just indicated. Whatever its merits or demerits, it was his own. He neither copied the forms of past times nor followed the counsels of contemporary advisers. It is very remarkable that no ecclesiastical personage appears controlling the affairs of the Commonwealth. Indeed his Highness occupied the throne without having at his right hand any prominent individual to influence him in either spiritual or in temporal business. No member of his Council of State was of such importance as to justify our applying to him the appellation of prime minister. We strive in vain to detect any clerical guidance. The principal Divines of the Presbyterian party were but little, if at all, attached to his government; they preferred the royalty which his rule suspended, and they disliked the Broad Church which he so zealously upheld. Independ[93]ents were about his person, but no evidence exists of his constituting any of them ecclesiastical advisers. The only chaplain he had of high intellectual mark was John Howe, a man indisposed to take part in public affairs, and whose correspondence shews that whatever his power might be in the pulpit, he had little or no influence at court. Owen and Goodwin were too much engaged at Oxford to have many opportunities for conference at Whitehall. Philip Nye might be disposed to give the benefit of his counsel, but Philip was not the person to carry weight with Oliver. No doubt the Protector took care to ascertain the opinions of all parties, and, as a prudent, practical man, he shaped his course so as not to give unnecessary offence; but his own genius was the counsellor on which he chiefly, if not entirely, relied. The outward fortunes of the Church were completely in lay hands—the hands of the Lord Protector of England. In the days of Charles, the country, through Laud, had been priest-ridden, but not even in religious matters was it presbyter-ridden in the days of Cromwell.

One more remark may be made. Conforming to general usage, we have called Cromwell's religious establishment a Church; but, accurately speaking, it was not a Church at all. We do not mean by this what an ecclesiastical polemic means, when he refuses to apply the name to any organization at variance with what he considers to be New Testament principles. By withholding the title from a particular community, he intends to say that it is not a Church according to his idea of what a Church should be. We abstain from all such controversies in these pages. Our meaning is that Cromwell's establishment did not include or recognize any internal organization whatever of an ecclesiastical kind; it had no Church courts, no Church assemblies, no Church[94] laws, no Church ordinances. It repudiated Prelacy without enforcing Presbyterianism or recognizing Congregationalism. While denying the aid of the civil power for carrying out one method of discipline, it gave no direct sanction to any other. It said nothing about rites and ceremonies. Not even the two great sacraments of Christianity were mentioned. What should be the mode of administering the Lord's Supper, and Baptism, and whether the latter should be confined to adults, or should be extended to infants, were open questions. What should be done in these respects was left to the ministers and their congregations to determine. One parish might be constituted a Presbyterian Church; another might contain an Independent Church; a third, a Baptist Church. But each Church, as shewn already, was independent of the parish incumbency; and often, in the case of Congregational Churches, the members met together in private houses. The particular society so organized really stood outside the Establishment. Hence it follows that the Protectorate Establishment was nothing more than an institution for preaching and teaching. The ministers were acknowledged by the State only in the capacity of instructors. The title given to State ordinances about religion seems in accordance with this; so were the functions of the Committee of Triers. The former were for the maintenance, the latter for the approbation, of "public preachers."

So far as moral discipline akin to that of the old Church Courts was instituted and enforced by Protectorate enactments, it was by civil statute, not by any kind of canon law. Ordinances for the improvement of public morals appear on the statute book of that period. Cock-matches and horse-races were prohibited, professedly on account of the danger attendant upon large[95] gatherings of people.[86] Fighting a duel upon which death should ensue was adjudged to be murder. Challenges, and the conveyance of them, were made punishable.[87] The Commissioners of Customs, and other officers, received authority to suppress drunkenness and profane swearing amongst all people employed in their departments.

These laws rested on the authority of the Protector and his Council; and the resolutions enacting them can be traced in the order-books of that small but potent assembly. When we turn to these records, we discover numerous proofs and illustrations of the supreme power which was exercised in this way over ecclesiastical causes. Decisions respecting titles to Church livings, and the augmentation of poor benefices, and for the payment of sums to poor clergymen, frequently appear in those interesting minutes.[88]

CHAPTER V.

All the ecclesiastical legislation of the first nine months of the Protectorate had been in the form of ordinances, framed mainly by the genius, and resting principally on the authority, of the Protector. In the autumn of 1654, he summoned his first Protectorate Parliament; and in our notices of its proceedings will be discovered the introduction of measures by certain ecclesiastical parties for modifying the platform of the Broad Establishment which he had laid down in the articles of government.

The elections met with little interference from the Protector and his Council. Glyn, and a large number of Presbyterians, took their seats. Neither Vane nor Marten were returned. Dr. Owen, Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, was elected for the University.

The members assembled on the 3rd of September. It was, we are told, the Lord's Day, and they met "in the temple of the Lord," at Westminster; "and the first work they began was to seek the face of the most high God and Eternal Protector of Heaven, by prostrating themselves before Him in His Divine ordinances." On Monday, his Highness went to Westminster—regally attended by life guards, pages, and lackeys, and, upon[97] alighting at the door of the abbey, he proceeded to take his seat over against the pulpit, "Members of Parliament sitting on both sides." Goodwin preached a sermon on "the deliverance out of Egypt and the pilgrimage towards Canaan through the wilderness"—which so gratified Cromwell, that he repeatedly referred to it in the speech with which he opened the Parliament, and indeed the spirit of it pervaded the whole of that address.[89]

This speech indicates that the Protector was environed by difficulties arising from Presbyterians, Ultra-voluntaries, and Fifth Monarchy men. In the estimation of the first of these classes he advanced beyond; in the judgment of the last two he lagged behind, the leadings of Divine truth. Not a theorist, but a practical man—in steering a middle course, he did, as all such statesmen must do, provoke violent opposition in partisans on the right hand and the left. His method of ecclesiastical government, as it appears in his own speeches and proceedings—not as we find them sometimes represented in the generalizations of historical writers—will no more satisfy some of the ecclesiastical reformers, or some of the ecclesiastical conservatives of[98] our own day, than it satisfied similar classes under his own Commonwealth.

Haselrig, the impetuous republican, and Harrison, the religious visionary, both disliked the Protector's authority. The former reluctantly submitted to it, but the latter, being more obstinate, could be subdued only by military apprehension and a brief imprisonment.[90] Afterwards, when his Highness required Members of Parliament to declare their acceptance of certain fundamental principles of government, many of the Republicans withdrew, leaving the Presbyterians in a decided majority.

Debates arose on the new constitution and in the course taken by the House respecting the ecclesiastical bearings, of that constitution the strength of the Presbyterian party appeared manifest. The Instrument of December, 1653, in prescribing the religious qualifications of Members of Parliament, only stated that they must be of "known integrity," having "the fear of God and a good conscience."[91] But in the month of November, 1654, when the articles of that Instrument came under review, it was resolved that no one should be eligible to a seat who entertained any of the opinions specified in the Act of the 9th of August, 1650; or who should so far sympathize with Popery as to marry a Papist, or consent to his child being educated in that religion; or who should deny the Scriptures to be the Word of God, or sacraments, prayer, the magistracy, or the ministry, to be Divine ordinances; or who should be guilty of profaning the Lord's Day, or of committing certain immoralities. It seems incredible, yet it is a fact, that the resolution[99] which enumerates such as were excluded, specifies those who should thereafter drink healths.[92]

Following the example of the Long Parliament, the House now resolved to exclude spiritual persons from secular authority. To all public ministers of religion was applied the principle which had swept the bishops out of the House of Lords. It was determined that the Act of 1642, for disabling persons in holy orders to exercise temporal jurisdiction, should be in force, so as to prevent all public ministers and preachers of the Gospel from serving in Parliament.[93]

The Presbyterians wished to limit the toleration prescribed in the Articles of 1653. The matter was found more difficult than any which had been previously propounded for consideration. Accordingly, a sub-committee was appointed to wait upon the Lord Protector, and to advise with him about some probable means of reconcilement. The Committee found no favour in the eyes of his Highness. He evidently had no wish to see the liberty of his subjects circumscribed by minute specifications of doctrines. He told the members he was wholly dissatisfied with what they were about—that he had no "propensity" to it—that the Parliament had already taken the instrument of Government to pieces, and had made alterations without his advice—and it did not become him to counsel them in this particular, apart from the other articles contained in the instrument.[94] Yet certain Divines were appointed to explain what was meant[100] by the words "such as profess faith in God by Jesus Christ."

Baxter, who was one of this Committee,[95] lets us into the secret of its proceedings, by saying that he wished the Apostles' Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments to be the only "fundamentals" specified; and that the objection made to his proposal was, that Socinians and Papists would be thereby brought within the boundaries of toleration. To which he acutely replied, that it was impossible to devise any form of words which heretics would not subscribe, when they explained those words in their own sense.[96] The majority of the Committee took a different view; and—as Baxter informs us—Owen, Goodwin, Nye, Simpson, Cheynell, and Marshall, were the most active in framing the principles which at length were submitted to the House, to help them in laying down lines of liberty.

They were expressed in the following terms:

"First. That the Holy Scripture is that rule of knowing God, and living unto Him, which whoso does not believe cannot be saved.

"Secondly. That there is a God, who is the Creator, Governor, and Judge of the world, which is to be received by faith, and every other way of the knowledge of Him is insufficient.

[101]

"Thirdly. That this God, who is the Creator, is eternally distinct from all creatures in His being and blessedness.

"Fourthly. That this God is one in three persons or subsistences.

"Fifthly. That Jesus Christ is the only Mediator between God and man, without the knowledge of whom there is no salvation.

"Sixthly. That this Jesus Christ is the true God.

"Seventhly. That this Jesus Christ is also true man.

"Eighthly. That this Jesus Christ is God and man in one person.

"Ninthly. That this Jesus Christ is our Redeemer, who, by paying a ransom, and bearing our sins, has made satisfaction for them.

"Tenthly. That this same Lord Jesus Christ is He that was crucified at Jerusalem, and rose again, and ascended into heaven.

"Eleventhly. That this same Jesus Christ, being the only God and man in one person, remains for ever a distinct person from all saints and angels, notwithstanding their union and communion with Him.

"Twelfthly. That all men by nature are dead in sins and trespasses, and no man can be saved unless he be born again, repent, and believe.

"Thirteenth. That we are justified and saved by grace, and faith in Jesus Christ, and not by works.

"Fourteenth. That to continue in any known sin, upon what pretence or principle soever, is damnable.

"Fifteenth. That God is to be worshipped according to His own will, and whosoever shall forsake and despise all the duties of His worship cannot be saved.

"Sixteenth. That the dead shall rise; and that there is a day of judgment, wherein all shall appear, some to[102] go into everlasting life, and some into everlasting condemnation."[97]

Whatever might be the exact intention of the Divines who drew up these propositions, we cannot but conclude—looking at the circumstances of their appointment, and at the use made by a party in the House of what they did, which they could scarcely fail to foresee—that they really meant to confine toleration within the limits indicated by these theological propositions. But the scheme fell to the ground. It was moved that the Articles brought in as "fundamental and necessary to salvation might pass the approbation of the House, and the Lord Protector's consent. But upon perusal of the Articles they were laid aside, and not thought fit to be further proceeded with at that time."[98]

The temper of the Parliament appeared in its proceedings against John Biddle. This man had published a book entitled "The Twofold Catechism," in which he maintained wild and monstrous opinions respecting the Almighty; and denied the doctrines of the Trinity, of the Atonement, and of Eternal punishment. The House condemned the book as blasphemous; sentenced it to be burnt by the hangman; and referred to a committee the preparation of a Bill for the punishment of the author.[99]

[103]

Cromwell met his Parliament on the 22nd of January, 1655, and told them that dissettlement and division, discontent and dissatisfaction had been more multiplied during the five months of their deliberations than for years before. Seeds were being sown by them for the renewal of old troubles. Briers and thorns were nourished under their shadow. In connection with the fostered confusions—on which he emphatically dwelt—his Highness touched upon the spirit which the House had manifested in endeavouring to abridge the amount of religious liberty; although he did not seem at all to disapprove of the treatment which John Biddle had received.

He ended his speech by formally dissolving the Assembly.

CHAPTER VI.

Upon the dissolution of the first Protectorate Parliament, the supreme management of affairs once more relapsed into the hands of Cromwell and his Council. They constituted an ultimate tribunal, before which all ecclesiastical, as well as all secular matters had to be brought, if any doubt arose respecting the decisions of inferior authorities. Notices of questions referred to them, or of matters in which they saw it proper to interfere, are found in such of the Minute Books as are still extant. But, excepting these occasional and revisionary interpositions, the Commissioners for approving godly preachers, and the Commissioners for ejecting scandalous ones, undertook the entire superintendence and discipline of the Clergy.

The former sat at Whitehall. There country ministers, summoned from various parts, were obliged to attend; and, in numerous cases, where the benefice was distant and the living poor, the hardship of travelling all the way up to the metropolis became very great. As might be expected, men forced to pass through the ordeal complained of arbitrariness and oppression. There were frequent grumblings about "super-metropolitan" and "hyper-archiepiscopal" tyranny, and of despotism worse[105] than the Bishops'—even "overtopping Laud." Clergymen, out of all sympathy with their judges, entered the Court full of prejudices; and by their known character were likely to excite a corresponding prejudice on the part of those who decided their destiny. They walked into the room full of suspicion; they met at the Board with abundant annoyance; and then came out irritated at the judgment pronounced upon their case. Often-times they complained of delay, and said they had "to wait the leisure of the underlings, clerks, or registrars"—a complaint which probably was not without foundation, for much business was thrown into a few hands, to be transacted far away from the residence of the parties most interested.

Tales respecting the alleged ignorance and malignity of the Triers met with extensive currency; and, coloured as they might be by the parties themselves who complained of their wrongs, they were more deeply coloured still by the prejudice or the carelessness of those who afterwards repeated these stories to their neighbours. Hence, after passing from one Episcopalian to another, they assumed the darkest hues and the most monstrous proportions. Some of them, which have been reduced to writing, exhibit the examiners in a ridiculous light—pressing points connected with Election, Perseverance, the Work of Grace, and the marks of the New Birth, after a fashion the most absurd which can be imagined. One clergyman, for instance, declared that he was asked whether Regeneration were a substance or an accident, and in what predicament it ought to be placed? Mystical questions were put touching the life of grace, to which mystical answers were returned, about the breath and the heat and the sense of the soul. It was said, that enquiries of this nature were continued until[106] sacred themes were dishonoured by the merest trifling. But, it must be remembered, these are only ex parte statements made by accused persons and their friends; and such reports, even where there was no intention to deceive, can never be trusted.[100]

To ascertain whether the teachers of religion were truly religious, and acquainted with the truths of Christianity, was the task assigned to these extraordinary Commissioners; and apart from the political relations of the tribunal over which they presided, such a proceeding must be pronounced right and wise. Whether the Triers adopted the best method to arrive at what they wished to know is another question. Unfortunately, the minutes of their meetings have perished, and no records of their proceedings exist endorsed by themselves. Could they be heard in their own defence, what now appears to their disadvantage might, in many cases, be considerably mitigated, if not entirely removed. Constituted as the Commission was, the justice of the conclusions reached depended entirely on the wisdom and goodness of those who pronounced them. We should certainly not congratulate men of intelligent piety, of delicate feeling, and of a wide charity, who happened to fall into the hands of a Cheynell or a Peters; and there were others also who might be mentioned not likely to prove impartial judges. We should conclude, further, that ignorant, wild, and[107] enthusiastic spirits would be very likely to pass muster before certain of the members. Still, the requirement of nine of their number in any vote of rejection operated as a check upon injustice; and the character of such men as Dr. Owen, Dr. Goodwin, and others, afforded a guarantee that nothing dishonourable would be met with at their hands. The fact, too, should be mentioned that the Commissioners, though opposed to Episcopacy, allowed certain clergymen to retain their incumbencies, notwithstanding their Episcopalian opinions.[101]

Besides the commission of Triers, there was the commission for ejecting scandalous, ignorant, and insufficient Ministers. Perhaps few cases occurred in which the accusation of ignorance and insufficiency was simply made. Commonly, a rather long array of charges was presented, on the principle, it would appear, of[108] catching the criminal on a second count of the indictment if the first should fail. The same person was accused of profaning the Sabbath, of frequenting alehouses, of using the Prayer Book, of playing at cards, of living an unholy life, and of being disaffected to the Government. We cannot help believing—much as we may honour the character of the Puritans—that in some cases they, like their adversaries, yielded to the besetting sin of priding themselves upon their orthodoxy and their virtue; and that they took it for granted that the men who differed from them in creed, and whom therefore they considered intellectually wrong, must also differ from them in life, and could not be reckoned morally right. Two kinds of injustice would arise from placing such dissimilar charges in the same category. Those put out of office for immorality would be sure to say they were ejected because of their loyalty to the Church—a circumstance which would reflect upon the character of the Commissioners; and those who were really ejected for using the Prayer Book, when scandals alleged against them remained unproved, would almost inevitably incur the disgrace of being reputed as vicious—a circumstance which involved unrighteousness towards the accused.

In small country towns, whilst these ecclesiastical assizes were being held, there would be no little excitement in the streets, and many a knot would gossip round the doors of the little inn where the tribunal sat. From what is preserved of such proceedings, however doubtful may be the minute details, we conclude that there was plenty of cross-swearing, and that the character of witnesses on one side was treated by the parties on the other much after the worst fashion of Old Bailey practice. Men of low reputation were special pleaders in their own case, and when charged with intemperance they cunningly mooted[109] the question, what really was meant by drinking in excess; and then proceeded to bring forward boon companions, who proved that in no conviviality had the reverend gentleman ever been seen intoxicated! Very unwisely in the course of a trial for what was truly scandalous, discontented parishioners were allowed to come forward, and declare that they had never profited under the ministry of the accused—a fact which might by no means be the minister's fault. Charges of gross vice might sometimes break down, although there remained quite enough to satisfy the Commissioners of the utter unfitness of the individual in question to be continued any longer as a minister of religion; but in such cases ample room was left, owing to the medley of indictments, for imputing injustice to the members of these judicial boards, however equitable might be the final award. It should be added that there was also some tempering of justice, or of injustice, with a shew of mercy. To the widow and children of the ejected was assigned the fifth of the income of the living.[102] Also sufficient time was allowed for those whose preferment was sequestered to move out of the parsonage; but then all this was followed by the cruel severity of forbidding such persons from becoming schoolmasters in the place of their ejectment. The vacancies made by expulsions were to be filled up by lawful patrons, unless those patrons became disqualified by acts of delinquency, in which case the presentation lapsed to the Lord Protector.

The treatment of Dr. Edward Pocock has been frequently mentioned by historians. He held the living of Childrey, in Berkshire, twelve miles from the city of[110] Oxford, and was greatly troubled by disaffected parishioners. Articles were presented to the Commissioners, charging him with using the Prayer Book, and with similar offences. The trial came on before the Commissioners, first at Abingdon, and then at Wantage; and for some months this learned man was abominably worried by ignorant enemies. Chiefly through the interference of his friend, Dr. Owen, he was at length delivered out of their clutches.[103]

The antipathy of Oliver the Puritan to the Common Prayer Book, as a rag of Popery, is apparent from the terms of the ordinance against scandalous Ministers, and from the whole tenor of his life. But Oliver the Protector had other and still stronger grounds of dislike to the Episcopal Clergy, which led him to bind such suspicions around the use of the liturgy as made it to his mind symbolical of treason and rebellion. The Episcopalian Royalists would not be quiet. No sooner had turbulent Anabaptists been put under lock and key, than people who wished to see both Church and King restored were discovered all over his Highness's dominions busy with their plots. Cavalier horsemen were galloping to a rendezvous in Sherwood Forest. Carts full of arms and ammunition were grinding along the ruts of Yorkshire roads. Divers of the old gentry were scheming to seize the city of York for Charles Stuart. Four thousand men were expected to meet on Marston Moor, to try and reverse the decision of arms given there in 1644. Reports were circulated of designs upon Newcastle, upon[111] Shrewsbury, and upon Winchester. Much more than talk occurred at Salisbury, where Royalist insurgents, on Sunday night in the spring assize week, actually seized the judges and the high sheriff, and endeavoured to proclaim King Charles at the Market Cross.[104] Plots abounded amongst Royalists; and people at home, eagerly turning their hopes into facts, wrote to friends on the Continent, telling them that Salisbury, and Plymouth, and Portsmouth, and Yarmouth, had all been surprised and taken. Rumour abroad proceeded so far as to affirm that England had declared for the King, and that the gates of the city of London had been shut against the Protector; and that Charles was waiting in the North till it should be safe for him publicly to appear.[105] This plot, after blazing up in the county town of Wilts, went out through a timely and decisive extinguishment of the first flames, and nothing remained of it but a few dead ashes. Yet it exasperated his Highness against the Royalists; and—entertaining the idea that ejected clergymen were still plotting his overthrow, that they entered families to foment treason, that, under pretence of teaching religion, they promoted disaffection, that meeting for common prayer meant meeting to upset the Commonwealth—he issued a most unrighteous declaration in the month of October, 1655. Grounds for suspecting the revolutionary character of certain gatherings did exist, and a[112] regard for the safety of government and the order of society required that particular individuals should be watched; but the conduct of some was no more reason for punishing all who used the Prayer Book, than Venner's insurrection, at a later date, was a reason for prohibiting all Nonconformist worship. The policy of Cromwell, in forbidding clergymen to become schoolmasters, however great might be his subsequent leniency, closely resembles the policy of the government after the Restoration. The decree declared that no delinquents after the 1st of January, 1655-6, should keep as chaplain or schoolmaster any sequestered minister, or permit their children to be taught by him. Nor should an ejected clergyman keep a school, or preach publicly or privately, or baptize, or administer the Lord's Supper, or celebrate marriages, or use the Prayer Book.

This declaration was intended to strike terror into the Royalist party; and so it did. And it would appear that with this effect the Protector was satisfied. The last clause in the document plainly shewed that he did not mean to carry it out in the case of persons who were disposed to remain quiet; and in point of fact, we know that, after this declaration had been published, the worship of Episcopalians continued, in some instances, to be winked at. The document ended in these words: "Nevertheless, his Highness doth declare that, towards such of the said persons as have, since their ejection or sequestration, given, or shall hereafter give, a real testimony of their godliness and good affection to the present government, so much tenderness shall be used as may consist with the safety and good of the nation."[106]

[113]

Between the first and second Protectorate Parliaments, Cromwell ruled England by Major-Generals. The country was divided into ten districts, each superintended by one of these military satraps. In short, the whole realm was placed under martial law; as we should say in modern phrase, the Habeas Corpus Act was suspended. Such a step, perhaps, had become a political necessity. Of course, the proceeding laid Cromwell open to the awkward charge of absolutism, tyranny, and espionage; and all he could urge in reply was the logic of a cruel necessity, "If not good, yet best." The carrying out of such a policy made England look for awhile too much like France and Austria in our own times, and it sanctioned the practice of employing spies—a practice which prevailed after the Restoration.

As religious affairs had become inextricably woven with secular ones, these Major-Generals looked after the Church as well as after the world. The principle of such an interference rested upon the fact of the union between Church and State. Teachers of religion supported by the State must be watched by the State. Teachers of religion not so supported, but interfering with the business of the State, must be checked by the[114] State. So men reasoned. Yet, although these officers were so many military bishops, they did not aim at establishing any kind of religious uniformity. They left Presbyterianism and Congregationalism to work their own way amongst the English people; yet, under pretence of curbing political disaffection and preventing social disorder, they did what has been often done under colour of the same pretext—they persecuted many perfectly harmless persons. Their reports, conveyed to head quarters, place in a strong light some phases of the religious condition of the country.

Many references are made in general terms to the zeal and diligence which were exhibited in the ejectment of scandalous ministers and schoolmasters. Major-General Whalley informed Secretary Thurloe that this kind of business was going on well in the county of Lincoln; but Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire had deferred entering upon the duty until he could render them assistance, and he assured the Secretary that his Highness might in that matter calculate upon the efficient services of the learned Recorder of the two county towns.[107]

Such persons as sympathized with the Papists were ferreted out with a very keen scent. Major-General Haynes informed the President of the Council, that he had sent to the garrison at Yarmouth a man named Cleveland, simply because he had lodged in a family where Papists resorted; and wore a genteel garb, although professing to have only fifty pounds a year income, and could give no good account of himself; and, besides, was possessed of such abilities as enabled him to do a great deal of mischief.[108] Major-General Boteler also wrote to[115] say that, as he was passing through Rockingham Forest, he overtook a gentleman, whom he found to be a Roman Catholic priest, wandering up and down the country without any settled home; upon which he took him into custody, seized his Agnus Dei and his beads, his medal of the Virgin, his crucifix, and his books; and this functionary wished to know what was to be done with such a dangerous person.[109]

The same officer was equally keen in the detection of disaffected Episcopalians, and therefore apprehended one Sherman, an Episcopalian minister, who, though of a sober life, held destructive principles, which he preached before the Corporation of Norwich.[110] Thus to preach was so much the worse, as that corporation contained very disaffected persons. Another individual, formerly zealous for the Parliament, had fallen in with Sherman, and was thought to be a still more active agent in strengthening malignity and producing disaffection.

The Anabaptists also figure in these despatches. Vavasour Powell continued to be strongly suspected; but he made a favourable impression upon Major-General Berry, a staunch Independent. This Fifth Monarchy preacher declared that he and his friends were far from designing to make any disturbance: they only wished, he said, to state their complaints to the Lord Protector. "It would be too large," adds the writer, "to relate the discourse we had about it. Only one terrible thunderbolt he seemed to affright me withal: he told me that my imprisoning of him would give occasion to the enemy to rejoice, and cause the godly to pour forth prayers and tears before the Lord against us. To that I answered, that I did account it a dreadful thing to stand in the way[116] of the tears and prayers of God's people, when they were duly directed against me; but if I were found doing my duty in the way of Providence, and many more than those thousands he spoke of should pour forth their prayers and tears against me, I was confident, and could with comfort lift up my head, and trust that the shield of Providence and faith should repel those as well as other darts, and they should not hurt me." Considerable sympathy in religious feeling existed between these two persons. Berry hoped that they might be of spiritual service to each other. He allowed Powell to preach at Worcester, which he did, "honestly and soberly, in four churches, and had many hearers."[111]

It further appears, from the correspondence of Major-General Goffe, that the minister of the principal congregation in the town of Lewes had adopted Feake's principles, "and bewailed the imprisonment of the Saints." The Anabaptists of Sussex were busy getting up a petition against the Court of Chancery, the tithe system, and the detention of prisoners without trial; but not one of the congregation just mentioned would sign the paper, because, being addressed to the Protector, it recognized his authority.[112]

Major-General Whalley, already mentioned—whose duties extended over the counties of Lincoln, Nottingham, Derby, Warwick, and Leicester—was much encouraged at witnessing the loyalty of ministers to the Protectorate in those parts; but, like his fellow-commanders in other districts, he dwells much upon the immorality of the population, which, owing to the neglect of the magistrates, was more than he could suppress. He says: "It hath been a general complaint to me in[117] Lincoln and Coventry especially, that wicked magistrates, by reason of their number, overpower the godly magistrates." "I shall give them in charge to put down as many alehouses as shall be judged unnecessary; and present me with a list at my next coming of what they have put down, and what remain, and shall, with Major Beake, and some others that I judge godly, consider further of them."[113]

Other letters of this period, preserved in Thurloe's collection, present some striking phases of ecclesiastical affairs and religious life in Scotland, Wales, and Ireland.

Scotland was still agitated by disputes between the Resolutionists—who had admitted malignants to command and to office, upon their submission to mock discipline—and the Remonstrators, who adhered to their decision of separating from all who were not faithful to the Covenant. Lord Broghill ruled in Scotland as Cromwell's Lieutenant, and laboured hard to bring contending factions into a state of obedience. The absence in the North of any attempt to establish religious uniformity is remarkable. Doctrinal and ecclesiastical peculiarities were largely tolerated, so long as people would live quietly under the Protector's rule. But it was otherwise when they were found guilty of political opposition. His Lordship informs Secretary Thurloe (September the 15th, 1655) of the Remonstrators' Covenant—"wherein they say they do not meddle with any thing of a civil concernment, but only to strengthen themselves in matters of faith and doctrine, in these times of defection and backsliding."[114] But his information, he[118] adds, was not very clear—and he had resolved, if he found the movement of ill tendency, he would put a stop to it. Lord Broghill had long and tedious conferences with the Edinburgh ministers, when he expressed his determination to countenance those most who most deserved it by peaceable submission.[115] At the same time he endeavoured to reconcile the contending factions, and to get the Remonstrators, whom he continued to call "the honester men," to fall in with an ordinance of the Protector "for admitting only of deserving men into the ministry." "Get good and holy men into your pulpits, without looking so closely into their minor peculiarities of opinion and usage," was the advice which Cromwell gave to people on both sides the Tweed; but on both sides the Tweed there were men who disliked all advice of that charitable nature. Conference followed conference, and at last Broghill informs Thurloe (November the 27th), "the meeting of our ministers for a reconciliation is grown hopeless."[116] It may be added, that from another of his letters (April the 15th, 1656) we learn the stern bearing of the Governor in Scotland towards Roman Catholics, for he speaks of a proclamation "which makes it death for any priest to be found in this nation after the next Lord's Day; which possibly may have blown away most birds of that feather."[117]

Wales occasioned much trouble. Its spiritual destitu[119]tion in 1649 had occasioned "An Act for the better propagation and preaching of the Gospel" in the principality, and for redress of certain grievances.[118] To remedy the consequences of long neglect and clerical immorality, Commissioners were appointed to eject scandalous ministers and schoolmasters, and to induct in their room such as were considered godly men. Perhaps this measure has provoked more criticism than any other of the kind. Impeachments have been laboriously drawn up on the one side, and as laboriously answered on the other. We shall not enter on that discussion. Our purpose is simply to indicate what information, as to the religious condition of Wales, is afforded by the correspondence of the Major-Generals. One thing is certain, that, whatever may have been beneficially effected by the Commissioners, Wales remained in a state of melancholy destitution when Major-General Berry thus wrote to Secretary Thurloe, from Wrexham, (December the 21st, 1655)—"Here are very few good ministers or schoolmasters." "The ejected and sequestered ministers and schoolmasters are become like the branch of an unfruitful vine; man cannot make a pin of it to hang a garment on, and they are in a sad condition. One very good school at Ruthin will be dispersed by his Highness's proclamation, and I hear there are many vacancies that want ministers in Anglesea. Methinks Doctor Owen might find some way to supply this defect."[119]

In the February following, the same writer states that one great evil which he found, and which he knew not how to remedy, was the want of able preachers; so that if some effectual course were not speedily taken, some of the[120] people would become heathens. Brecon—the town where he was staying at the time—had no preacher near it, and the people were sinking into a state of careless contentment without any religion whatever. To this fact of continued spiritual destitution must be added another.[120] Wales lay torn in pieces by the political differences of religious people. The Fifth Monarchists, amongst whom Vavasour Powell played so conspicuous a part, were loud in their complaints of "wickedness in high places." They drew up a paper, signed by above 300 names, which was found in the pocket of one Chapman, imprisoned in the Tower of London. The Lieutenant forwarded the document to Secretary Thurloe, who has printed it in his huge collection.[121] It is a curious production, containing, first, an appeal to Cromwell to peruse and weigh it, and not harden his neck against the truth; and then a second part, called "a word for God," which forms the burden of the testimony introduced. After referring to particular duties in former days—such as witnessing against the Prayer Book, the cross in baptism, and the like—the authors proceeded to deliver their souls. First, they said that this nation resembled Israel after its deliverance from Egypt. Secondly, that the good old cause was laid aside and lost. Thirdly, that the Government had been unwarrantably changed. Fourthly, that as the fruit of this forbidden tree, many of the choice servants of God (rebellious Fifth Monarchy-men) were imprisoned without knowing their accusers. Fifthly, that heavy taxation continued. Sixthly, that under the Protectorate horrible impieties, injustice, and oppression continued to abound "from the head to the tail," witness (they remarked) the receiving of honours, profits, customs,[121] benefits, tenths, and first fruits formerly paid to the Crown: Seventhly, that the expedition to Hispaniola had incurred the loss of much blood and treasure—and, lastly, that the existing Government was not of God's approbation. Here, beyond all question, a flag of revolt is seen in preparation, and no wonder Cromwell did what he could to prevent its being unfurled. Another paper appeared on the opposite side signed by double the number, including most if not all the Independents of Wales.

The sparks of disaffection thus struck out, flew far and wide, and soon lighted on combustible materials in the sister island. We learn from Thurloe that the inflammatory manifesto just described, on reaching the Irish people, found a favourable reception. "It was greatly hugged by some." On the 14th of December, 1655, Edward Wale of Waterford, writing to Dr. Harrison, told him that he heard strange things of the Anabaptists, to the grief of Lord Henry Cromwell. He marvelled what these people would have. His Lordship's demeanour had been such everywhere since his coming, that the godly in general spoke well of him. But the Anabaptists were not pleased. Their pride and uncharitableness would ere long bring them low. He hoped that their schisms, the madness of the Quakers, and the cruelties and insolence of the Roman beast, together with differences and confusions everywhere, would make every one ply the petition more and more, "Thy kingdom come." Henry Cromwell himself dwelt even passionately upon this subject. He asked Thurloe—Could his Highness believe that the Anabaptists, and especially those in Ireland, were his faithful friends, and that when others deserted, they would stand by him? Let sober people be asked, and they would tell, that when others were for owning his Highness,[122] these men did openly deny him, and not only so, but reproached and reviled those who acted differently.[122]

But far worse, and much more troublesome to the Major-Generals, the Lord Protector, and all good Protestants, were the papistical lawyers and priests—therefore the first were summarily disposed of, and the second closely watched, with a view to more serious punishment. Worsley informed Thurloe of security being taken that all attorneys who were Papists, and had been in arms against the Parliament or the present Government, should act no more in their legal capacity.[123] A report, entitled a "Brief Account of what is observed concerning the Irish," states that there had been a more than ordinary confluence of priests, filling the minds of the discontented Irish with expectations of a change;—that a general and private fast had been held—the same thing having been observed before the late rebellion;—that private meetings of the gentry were also more common than formerly; that Bishop O'Dwyer, and a friar named Bonaventure, in Laghlyn, were appointed to receive intelligence from abroad, and to disperse it, as orderly as possible, according to the direction they received; that, besides, there were two priests, who passed by turns from London to Dublin, and thence sent papers to O'Dwyer and Bonaventure; that having received from them fresh dispatches, they returned to England, and that Bonaventure was now gone into Tipperary, with a letter written in cipher, brought by one of these priests.[124]

Perhaps in these references to Thurloe we have drawn too largely on the reader's patience, but in the tangled thicket of his immense collection of letters, much fruit may be picked out from amidst thorns and briars, by the[123] historian who searches for illustrations of affairs under Cromwell's Major-Generals. Not that anybody can expect to find in their reports an accurate picture of what Catholics, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, or Anabaptists really were; for it is evident these old soldiers were full of prejudice, and must have been oft-times misinformed; but the correspondence clearly reflects the sentiments of those in power with reference to that portion of the English people which gave them so much trouble. We are not able from these letters to determine exactly what was the character of the accused, or what was the treatment they deserved; but we are able to see how they were judged and treated by this class of rulers, who combined in one and the same person the soldier, the magistrate, and the ecclesiastical overseer.

Vane, after Cromwell's usurpation of absolute dictatorship, returned to Raby Castle, in the county of Durham—whose old grey towers, rich in Neville memories, still lift up their heads, full of feudal grandeur and picturesque beauty, among the trees of a lordly park, well stocked with deer. There, in rooms far different from the present modernized apartments, this philosophical statesman reflected upon what was going on in England under the administration of Major-Generals, and in some quiet chamber wrote his "Retired Man's Meditations." In the same abode also—when in March, 1656, Cromwell commanded a general fast, that the people might apply themselves to the Lord, to discover the Achan who had so long obstructed the settlement of these distracted kingdoms—Vane wrote his "Healing Question," in which he brings out his doctrine of religious liberty more luminously perhaps than he had ever done before. As it illustrates the progress of opinion in that subject, and[124] is a clearer statement of principles which in our day are widely adopted, than can be found in any other book published during the Protectorate, we cannot resist the temptation to transfer to these pages the following extract:—

"Unto this freedom the nations of the world have right and title by the purchase of Christ's blood, who by virtue of His death and resurrection is become the sole Lord and Ruler in and over the conscience; for to this end Christ died, rose and revived, that He might be Lord both of the dead and of the living, and that every one might give an account of himself, in all matters of God's worship, unto God and Christ alone, as their own Master, unto whom they stand or fall in judgment, and are not in these things to be oppressed or brought before the judgment-seats of men. For why shouldest thou set at naught thy brother in matters of his faith and conscience, and herein intrude into the proper office of Christ, since we are all to stand at the judgment-seat of Christ, whether governors or governed, and by His decision only are capable of being declared with certainty to be in the right or in the wrong?

"By virtue, then, of this supreme law, sealed and confirmed in the blood of Christ unto all men (whose souls He challenges a propriety in, to bring under His inward rule in the service and worship of God), it is that all magistrates are to fear and forbear intermeddling with giving rule or imposing in those matters. They are to content themselves with what is plain in their commission, as ordained of God to be His ministers unto men for good, whilst they approve themselves the doers of that which is good in the sight of men, and whereof earthly and worldly judicatures are capable to make a clear and perfect judgment; in which case the magistrate is to be[125] for praise and protection to them. In like manner he is to be a minister of terror and revenge to those that do evil in matters of outward practice, converse, and dealings in the things of this life between man and man, for the cause whereof the judicatures of men are appointed and set up. But to exceed these limits, as it is not safe nor warrantable for the magistrate (in that He who is higher than the highest, regards, and will shew Himself displeased at it), so neither is it good for the people, who hereby are nourished up in a biting, devouring, wrathful spirit one against another, and are found transgressors of that royal law which forbids us to do that unto another, which we would not have them do unto us, were we in their condition.

"This freedom, then, is of high concern to be had and enjoy, as well for the magistrates sake as for the peoples common good; and it consists, as hath been said, in the magistrates forbearing to put forth the power of rule and coercion in things that God hath exempted out of his commission. So that all care requisite for the peoples obtaining this may be exercised with great ease, if it be taken in its proper season; and that this restraint be laid upon the supreme power before it be erected as a fundamental constitution among others, upon which the free consent of the people is given, to have the persons brought into the exercise of supreme authority over them, and on their behalf; and if besides, as a further confirmation hereunto, it be acknowledged the voluntary act of the ruling power, when once brought into a capacity of acting legislatively, that herein they are bound up, and judge it their duty so to be (both in reference to God, the institutor of magistracy, and in reference to the whole body by whom they are entrusted), this great blessing will hereby be so well provided for[126] that we shall have no cause to fear, as it may be ordered.

"By this means a great part of the outward exercise of anti-Christian tyranny and bondage will be plucked up by the very roots; which, till some such course be held in it, will be always apt to renew and sprout out afresh, under some new form or refined appearances, as by late years' experience we have been taught. For since the fall of the Bishops and persecuting Presbyteries, the same spirit is apt to rise in the next sort of clergy, that can get the ear of the magistrate, and pretend to the keeping and ruling of the conscience of the governors; although this spirit and practice hath been all along decried by the faithful adherents to this cause as a most sore oppression, and insufferable yoke of bondage most unrighteously kept up over the consciences of the people, and therefore judged by them most needful to be taken out of the way; and in this matter the present governors have been willing very eminently to give their testimony in their public declarations, however in practice there is much of grievance yet found among us, though more, in probability, from the officiousness of subordinate ministers, than any clear purpose or design of the chief in power."[125]

In such teaching the rights of conscience are planted on their proper ground. No one, after reading Vane's words, can fail to see the truth and justice of the lines addressed to him by John Milton:

[127]

But views of religious liberty, worthy the admiration of posterity, were coupled in Vane's mind with an impracticable and un-English republican theory, which stripped them of the authority with which otherwise they might have been clothed. It was unfortunate for the interests of freedom that, in an age when it struggled to establish its sway, there were too often in alliance with its advocacy enthusiastic opinions or fanatical practices, impairing it at the time, and affording pretexts for opposing it in the next generation.

Vane acted with characteristic honesty and candour in sending privately to Cromwell a copy of the "Healing Question," containing the sentences we have quoted, before he proceeded to publish what he had written. Perhaps it never reached the Protector's hands. Be that as it might, notwithstanding the moderate tone of the pamphlet—sufficient, one would have thought, to protect the author against any unpleasant interference from the Government—some of the political passages which the pamphlet contained greatly displeased the Protector; a displeasure which was much increased by another violent publication, attributed to Vane's pen, but not with sufficient reason. The republican statesman was summoned before the Council. The Council required him to give a bond for £5,000 that he would not disturb the peace of the Commonwealth, in default whereof he should stand committed. He refused to give the bond, and to the great discredit of both Cromwell and his Council, they sent their honest brother patriot to prison.

CHAPTER VII.

England could not exist long without Parliaments. The Major-Generals had become intolerable. Sir Harry Vane and others, in their call for another of the old constitutional assemblies of the land, only expressed the deeply-seated desire of the nation. The Protector, therefore, made a further attempt to govern in the ancient fashion; and for that end writs were sealed and sent out in the month of July. After the corn had been garnered, while still the reaper's sickle in some parts was flashing amidst the wheat, the country was astir with elections, and citizens and yeomen were rushing to the poll. Cromwell and his supporters looked on with no little apprehension, finding so much of disaffection to the Protectorate. Cavaliers and Presbyterians could not be trusted. Anabaptists and Republicans, too, were objects of fear. When the elections were over, the following letter, which explains itself, was written to the Protector:—[129][126]

"May it please your Highness,—After the election was over at Maidstone, many of the Commissioners for securing the peace of the county met, and upon consideration had of affairs (having seen such a sad spirit appearing in the county against what good soever your Highness and those under your commands have endeavoured to do, most of the Cavaliers falling in with the Presbyterians against all those persons that owned your Highness and present Government; and finding in the generality of the county such a bitter spirit against Swordsmen, Decimators, Courtiers, &c., as did appear in the field at the time of election, the most of those that are chosen to sit in the ensuing Parliament being of the same spirit,) were full of fears what the consequence of this meeting might be; and would have wrote to your Highness at present, but that there was not a full meeting, and therefore referred it to me to give your Highness an account of what was upon their hearts;—which was that if there was not a restraint upon them, they had cause to fear they would put all into blood and confusion, their party giving out they would down with the Major-Generals, and Decimators, and the new militia, so that they do apprehend it good for your Highness to consider beforehand what is fit to be done. And therefore they think it necessary to appoint some persons that shall have commissions dormant to some gentlemen, that the honest party may know to whom to repair, and to that end, at their next meeting, shall present you with names accordingly. They think a recognition, as it may be penned, may keep some that are most dangerous out, and better that they be kept out at first, than afterwards[130] your Highness be forced to turn them out. They think it will be your wisdom not to suffer them to meddle with the instrument of Government, but all that go into the House be engaged to own it as it is, and not to meddle with altering any part of it, without your Highness's consent. As also not to meddle with what hath been done out of necessity by your Highness and Council, in order to the peace and safety of the nation. Their hearts are with your Highness to stand by you with their lives and fortunes, they finding such a perverseness in the spirits of those that are chosen, that, without resolution of spirit in your Highness and Council to maintain the interests of God's people (which is to be preferred before a thousand Parliaments) against all opposition whatsoever, we shall return again to our Egyptian taskmasters. And therefore do earnestly beg that the Lord would direct your heart what to do in this juncture of affairs. And if Parliaments will not do it, then to take such to your assistance as will stand by you in that work, which God hath begun, and will yet undoubtedly own and carry on, maugre all His enemies; and we judge it better to persist in the work of the Lord than now we have put our hands to the plough to look back. And although the murmurings and discontents of God's people, together with all our unsuitable walkings under those precious enjoyments we have from the Lord, may provoke Him to leave us to be overcome by our enemies, and cause us to hang our harps upon the willows, and cause the enemy to call for one of the songs of Sion in a strange land; yet, if the Lord shall take pleasure in us, He will cause His face to shine upon us, and carry us well through the seas of blood that are threatened against us, and the waste howling wilderness of our straits and difficulties, and at length bring us to that[131] blessed haven of reformation, endeavoured by us, and cause all our troubles and disquiet to end in a happy rest and peace—when all His people shall be one, and His name one in all your dominions, which is and shall be the daily prayers of, my Lord, your Highness's most humble and obedient servant to his power,

"Thos. Kelsey.

"Chatham, 26th August, 1656."

This advice was adopted, and between one and two hundred of the persons returned were refused their seats because of their disaffection to the Protectorate Government.

The second Protectorate Parliament met on the 17th of September, 1656. Sir Harry Vane, now a prisoner, had been proposed in three places, but had been elected in none. Haselrig had succeeded in securing his return, but for a time he did not take his seat. After Dr. Owen had preached at Westminster Abbey from the words in Isaiah xiv. 32—"What shall one then answer the messengers of the nation? That the Lord hath founded Zion, and the poor of his people shall trust in it,"—adjourning to the Painted Chamber, Cromwell stood up, took off his hat, and discoursed characteristically upon the Spaniards and Papists, and the Cavaliers—upon the late rising—the levellers and the Fifth Monarchy men—and also upon the Major-Generals. Then he turned to the subject of religion. His practice since the last Parliament, he said, had been to grant liberty to all who continued quiet and peaceable. He was against such liberty of conscience as might be repugnant to this. Let Baptists, Independents, and Presbyterians be countenanced as long as they were thankful to God, and made use of their liberty—not to interfere with others, but "to enjoy their own consciences." Men who believed in free justification by the[132] blood of Jesus, and lived upon the grace of God, claimed freedom as a debt due to God and to Christ; and God would require it, if such Christians did not enjoy what they claimed. But his Highness declared he would not suffer one Christian to trample on the heels of another, or to revile, reproach, or provoke him. He prayed that God would give hearts and spirits to keep things equal, for striving after which he had "some boxes on the ear." Even Presbyterians, at last, were beginning to see the justice of his course, and petitions from them in certain counties shewed how they did but desire liberty, and would "not strain themselves beyond their own line." The Protector touched on another topic. For his own part, he should think himself very treacherous if he took away tithes till he could see the legislative power settle the maintenance of ministers in another way. To destroy tithes was to cut ministers' throats. Tithes, or some other public maintenance, formed "the root of visible profession." He had also a word of favour for his Commission of Triers and "Expurgators." They had a great esteem for learning; but "neither Mr. Parson, nor Doctor in the University, hath been reckoned stamp enough by those that made these approbations." Grace must go with and sanctify learning. He believed, he said, that God had "a very great seed" in the youth then in the Universities, who, instead of studying books only, studied their own hearts. "It was never so upon the thriving hand" as at that day. Touching upon religion generally, the speaker added that the Cavalier interest had been one of disorder and wickedness; that fifteen or seventeen years before it had been a shame to be a Christian. A badge then was put upon the holy profession. But a blessed change had come, and now—since people esteemed[133] it a shame to be bold in sin and profaneness—God would bless them.[127]

The second Protectorate Parliament walked in the steps of the first, as it regarded the suppression of error and of fanaticism by legal penalties. The month of December saw the new senators at Westminster plunging into discussions upon the case of James Naylor.

Lord President Laurence[128] and a few others were disposed to interpret the views of this notorious person as merely the extravagances of a mystical temperament; but most of the members, horror-stricken at his conduct, pronounced it utterly intolerable, and declared that it deserved the severest chastisement from the magistrate. Mr. Samuel Bedford[129] expressed his joy at finding that so many had adopted such an opinion; for the nation's eyes were fixed upon them to see what they would do for the cause of God; and he would not have them lay down the business unfinished, but sit day and night until it was[134] perfected. Lord Lambert[130]—after alluding to the unhappy man as having been unblameable in life, and a member of "a very sweet society of an Independent Church"—intimated his own readiness to punish the accused, should he be proved guilty of blasphemy; only, not being hurried away by passion, like some honourable members, he wished the subject to be referred to a committee, that nothing might be done irregularly and in haste. Major Edward Desborough,[131] though he did not speak with a view of mitigating Naylor's offence, pointed out the fact that the people who encouraged him and paid him homage were, in one sense, worse than he. Some members would immediately have sent this delinquent to the gallows; and at length the poor man actually was doomed to be repeatedly whipped, set in the pillory, branded with red-hot irons, and kept in prison with hard labour during the pleasure of Parliament.[132] Even the Lord Protector said he would not tolerate such offenders in his dominions.

At the time when this debate was carried on—touching as it did the question whether Government has a right to take cognizance of purely religious offences—the Protector wrote two very significant letters, which are here introduced in further illustration of his religious policy. One was addressed to the municipal authorities of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, with reference to some fears which the Independents, who were the predominant party in the town, had expressed, in consequence of his Highness's encouragement of the Presbyterians in that neighbourhood. After an explanation of the circumstance, he proceeds:—

[135]

"I, or rather the Lord, require of you that you walk in all peaceableness and gentleness, inoffensiveness, truth, and love towards them, as becomes the servants and Churches of Christ—knowing well that Jesus Christ, of whose diocese both they and you are, expects it; who, when He comes to gather His people and to make Himself 'a name and praise amongst all the people of the earth,' He 'will save her that halteth, and gather her that was driven out, and will get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame.' And such 'lame ones' and 'driven-out ones' were not the Independents only, and Presbyterians, a few years since, by the Popish and prelatical party in these nations; but such are and have been the Protestants in all lands, persecuted and faring alike with you, in all the reformed Churches. And therefore, knowing your charity to be as large as all the flock of Christ who are of the same hope and faith of the Gospel with you, I thought fit to commend these few words to you, being well assured it is written in your heart, so to do with this, that I shall stand by you in the maintaining of all your just privileges to the uttermost."[133] The Christian spirit which breathes through this epistle commands our sympathy and admiration. Every line testifies to that gentle love for all the true disciples of Jesus Christ—which grew like a tender flower, which gushed like a limpid stream, for the refreshment of his friends, out of the depths of a strong and rugged nature such as made Cromwell a terror to his enemies.

The other noticeable letter despatched from his Highness's Cabinet about the same time, was intended for no other hands than those of the renowned Cardinal Mazarin,[136] the prime minister of France—in answer to his Eminence's request for the toleration of Catholics in England.

"The obligations, and many instances of affection," says Cromwell, "which I have received from your Eminency, do engage me to make returns suitable to your merits. But although I have this set home upon my spirit, I may not (shall I tell you I cannot?) at this juncture of time, and as the face of my affairs now stands, answer to your call for toleration (of Catholics here). I say I cannot, as to a public declaration of my sense in that point; although I believe that under my Government your Eminency, in the behalf of Catholics, has less reason for complaint as to rigour upon men's consciences than under the Parliament. For I have of some, and those very many, had compassion, making a difference. Truly I have (and I may speak it with cheerfulness in the presence of God, who is a witness within me to the truth of what I affirm) made a difference; and, as Jude speaks, 'plucked many out of the fire'—the raging fire of persecution, which did tyrannize over their consciences, and encroached by an arbitrariness of power upon their estates. And herein it is my purpose, as soon as I can remove impediments, and some weights that press me down, to make a farther progress, and discharge my promise to your Eminency in relation to that."[134] Cromwell did what many rulers do. Without having an intolerant law repealed, he relaxed its execution. The time was not ripe for perfect religious liberty. Cromwell understood its broad principles better than Mazarin; but it was not given to the Protector, as it has been to his posterity, to see the entire breadth of their practical application.[137] The letter shews some respect for the consciences of Catholics; but it indicates, in the way of conceding liberty to that class of religionists, difficulties over which at the time the writer had no control. Evidently he was prepared to advance rather than recede in his liberal treatment of a class of persons who, by the common consent of almost all Protestants, were excluded from the enjoyment of the political privileges of citizenship.

In those days of tardy intercourse with the Continent, this last letter had scarcely reached its destination when the gossips of London were all astir with reports relative to Cromwell's escape from a great personal danger. A story gained circulation, to the effect, that a hole had been cut in the backdoor of Whitehall chapel, and that a basket of pitch, tar, and gunpowder had been placed there, with a lighted match hung over it, in order to blow up both the palace and the Protector. A resolution of the Parliament to keep a day of thanksgiving followed the discovery of this design—known in history as Sindercombe's plot—whereupon a curious debate ensued upon the question, as to who should preach the sermon for improving the event. Alderman Foot, member for the city of London, proposed that Dr. Reynolds should perform the office; when exceptions were taken to the "low voice" of that eminent Presbyterian Divine. The same complaint was urged with regard to Mr. Caryl, the Independent. "It is strange we should not hear as well now as we did fourteen years ago," observed Lord Strickland—one of his Highness's Council, and member for Newcastle-upon-Tyne—to which Mr. Robinson, who represented Yorkshire, added the remark—"Ministers tell us our faults. It is fit we should tell them theirs. Their reading of sermons makes their voice lower. I doubt we are going to the[138] episcopal way of reading prayers, too." Another member moved that Mr. Matthew Mead, minister of Stepney, might be selected as one of the preachers: and he expressed an earnest hope that charity might be more manifest on the occasion than it had been when a fast was last observed by the Houses, for then "nothing was given at the door to the poor." From observations advanced in the course of this amusing debate, it appears that reading discourses had begun to be somewhat fashionable amongst the English pulpit orators of the Puritan period; it was, however, otherwise in Scotland, memoriter delivery being the practice there; and hence, Lord Cochrane of Dundonald, who sat for Aire and Renfrew, suggested his fellow-countryman, Mr. Galaspy, of the Scotch kirk, as a minister peculiarly fitted to edify the House by his ministrations, because he was not accustomed to read his discourses. The honourable member raised a laugh by saying "something of an evil man who read his sermons."[135]

In the month of March, there were debates in the House respecting the new Magna Charta of England, contained in the document first called, "The humble Address and Remonstrance of the Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses now assembled in Parliament;" but afterwards still more modestly entitled, "The humble Petition and Advice."[136] A blank had been left for the name of the chief magistrate. Was it to be the title of King or Protector? Major-General Ludlow called this new programme of the Commonwealth a shoe[139] fitted to the foot of a monarch; yet it might be worn, he said, and walked in, by one bearing a less pretentious appellation. For weeks there were, on this weighty question, discussions in St. Stephen's, with conferences and speeches at Whitehall, ending, as every one knows, in Cromwell's refusal of the English Crown.[137] That unique episode in our national history does not come within the scope of our narrative, but the Petition and Advice, in which the proposal of kingship appeared, requires consideration under its ecclesiastical and religious aspects. The framers of the new Charter had their eye upon the Instrument of December, 1653. Like the Constitution it was to supersede, it disqualified Papists for political rule, and for all exercise of the franchise. Members of Parliament and of the Council of State were still required to be men of integrity, fearing God. All acts and orders for the abolition of Bishops, Deans, and Chapters, and for the sale of cathedral property, were distinctly confirmed in both schemes of government; and, as a fundamental principle in each, it was laid down that the Christian religion, as contained in the Scriptures, should be held forth as the public profession[140] of the country. But, on comparing the long Article, number xi., in the Humble Petition, with the corresponding Articles of 1653, numbered xxxv., xxxvi., and xxxvii.,[138] we discover some not altogether unimportant differences. The Article xxxv. of the first Instrument speaks of a contemplated provision for ministerial maintenance, less subject to scruple and contention, and more certain than the present—meaning tithes. Not a word appears on this subject in No. xi. of the Petition. A Confession of Faith to be agreed upon by his Highness and the Parliament is desired in the Petition and Advice, but nothing of the kind had been mentioned in the Articles. Moreover, in the Petition and Advice it is distinctly said:—"That none may be suffered or permitted by opprobrious words, or writing maliciously or contemptuously to revile or reproach the Confession of Faith to be agreed upon as aforesaid"—a provision to which nothing similar can be found in the Articles. Also, in the earlier case, liberty was conceded to all persons who professed faith in God by Jesus Christ, so that they did not abuse their freedom to the injury of others; but in the later scheme of government, an enumeration is attempted of primary articles of belief necessary to be held as a condition of toleration. Freedom is limited to those who "profess faith in God the Father, and in Jesus Christ, His eternal Son, the true God, and in the Holy Spirit, God, co-equal with the Father and the Son, one God blessed for ever; and do acknowledge the holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be the revealed will and word of God; and shall in other things differ in doctrine, worship, or discipline from the public profession held forth." The determination to draw a broad and distinct line between clergy and laity—which was expressed in the resolutions of the first Protectorate Parliament, when the Articles of 1653 came under discussion—is decidedly taken up by this second Parliament, and incorporated in their Advice.

[141]

This comparison of the two Charters indicates a revived spirit of ecclesiastical conservatism at the period when the second of them was prepared, and seems to point to a strong Presbyterian element in this second Protectorate Parliament. The exclusion of members with republican predilections from seats in St. Stephen's left the Presbyterians more at liberty to carry out their own plan of religious policy; and it is a fact, that at the same time, they derived encouragement from the conciliatory conduct then, and for some little while before, manifested toward them by the Lord Protector. Cromwell accepted the Petition and Advice, "hugely taken," as he says, with the word "settlement—both with the thing and the notion"—it being the haven into which he had long sought, in a night of storms, to bring the vessel of Church and State. But, in a speech on the 21st of April, he could not help animadverting on debates in Parliament respecting the civil disqualification of public preachers. "I must say to you," he observed, "in behalf of our army—in the next place to their fighting—they have been very good 'preachers,' and I should be sorry they should be excluded from serving the Commonwealth because they have been accustomed to 'preach' to their troops, companies, and regiments—which I think has been one of the blessings upon them, to the carrying on of the great work. I think you do not mean so 'that they should be excluded' but I tender it to you, that if you think fit there may be a consideration had of it. There may be some of us, it may be, who have been a little guilty of that, (the Lord Protector no[142] doubt here thought of himself), who would be loth to be excluded from sitting in Parliament 'on account of it!'"[139]

Cromwell, in the same speech, could not but cast a glance of approval at the proceedings of the Commission of Triers, of whom, however, the Advice says nothing. "We have settled very much of the business of the ministry," observes his Highness. "If I have anything to rejoice in before the Lord in this world, as having done any good or service, it is this;" "there hath not been such a service to England since the Christian religion was perfect in England!" "We did not trust upon doing what we did virtute Instituti, as if these Triers were jure Divino, but as a civil good. We knew not, and know not better, how to keep the ministry good, and to augment it in goodness, than by putting such men to be Triers: men of known integrity and piety, orthodox men, and faithful." Then—with a decided nod of favour in reference to that part of the petition—he looked at No. xi. on the document, which he held in his hand—where it was written that those ministers who should agree in doctrine, though not in discipline, with the public profession, should be eligible for trust and promotion in the ecclesiastical establishment of England. After glancing obliquely at strifes of opinion—with frowns of displeasure such as we can imagine overcasting his huge eyebrows—he afterwards turned with radiant smiles to recognize so much as existed of his own comprehensive church in this new settlement of affairs. "Here are three sorts of godly men whom you are to take care for, whom you have provided for in your settlement. And how could you put the selection upon the Presbyterians, without, by possibility, excluding all those Anabaptists, all those Independents?[143] And so now you have put it into this way, that though a man be of any of those three judgments, if he have the root of the matter in him, he may be admitted."[140]

The provisions for a more minute Confession of faith had received special notice from the Protector at one of the earlier interviews which he had with a committee of Parliament, respecting the knotty points of their advice. He said they had been zealous for the two greatest concernments God hath in the world—religion and liberty. "To give them all due and just liberty, and to assert the truth of God:" this was the point. "And as to the liberty of men professing godliness, you have done that which was never done before. And I pray it may not fall upon the people of God as a fault in them, in any sort of them, if they do not put such a value upon this that is now done as never was put on anything since Christ's time, for such a catholic interest of the people of God." Then touching on the subject of civil liberty, the Protector added: "Upon these two interests, if God shall account me worthy, I shall live and die."[141]

It need scarcely be remarked, that contemplated in the light of the nineteenth century, the restriction of what is called religious toleration within such bounds as were specified in the new Articles of Government must appear very partial and narrow. But judged according to previous legislation—compared with the Presbyterian polity of ten years before; with the prelatical persecutions of Charles, James, and Elizabeth's reign; with the papal cruelties of Queen Mary; and with the capricious despotism of Henry VIII.—the measure of liberty now conceded must be pronounced to be very liberal. Also, when compared with other European countries at the same[144] period, or just before, England under Cromwell is seen to immense advantage; for Spain, Portugal, and Italy prohibited all forms of religion except the Roman Catholic; in France and in Germany the Protestant churches fought rather for their own existence than for any principles of freedom applicable to differing sects; Holland enforced the decrees of the Synod of Dort;[142] Denmark, Sweden,[143] and Norway allowed nothing but a rigid Lutheranism: and Geneva was intolerantly Calvinistic. Moreover, as in point of liberty outside the Establishment the Protectorate proceeded far beyond contemporary European powers, so also did the comprehensiveness of Cromwell's establishment surpass every other which existed in his day. One class of Protestant Christians only had been aforetime in England, or was at this time abroad, allowed by the State incorporation and support; but the Protector conceded these privileges to Presbyterians, to Independents, and to Baptists, in common. In several cases also he winked at the occupancy of parish pulpits even by Episcopal clergymen.

Of toleration and of comprehension there was very[145] much more than there had been in England, or than could be found at the same time elsewhere; but both toleration and comprehension had respect to different forms of polity, worship, and discipline, rather than to different phases of doctrinal sentiment. Liberty was conceded to various parties so long as they were orthodox and evangelical. But when teachers lapsed into what Puritans believed to be error, when they lost their sympathy in what Puritans believed to be Christian experience, they became at once objects of suspicion and dislike to the Government, and ran the risk of being deprived and silenced. There was freedom of speech, if not State support, for all who were esteemed true and faithful servants of Christ, in spite of their peculiar principles and usages. But toleration belonged to them only as saints, not as subjects. Liberty was counted a religious privilege, not a social right. The grounds of toleration rested upon by Government, however they might appear in the speculations of individual thinkers, were not of the same breadth and of the same strength as they are in the present day. But if there was less of liberty than some admirers of the Commonwealth imagine, there was vastly more of order in the administration of ecclesiastical affairs than those who dislike Cromwell and his Government are disposed to admit. What has been already advanced in these pages serves to shew that things were not left to be shaped by chance; that a definite system of policy was framed; that there was a defined establishment based on law; that liberty was fenced round by distinct lines; and we may now remark, in conclusion, on this subject, that Council books, and other documents in the State Paper Office, prove that the ecclesiastical and other departments of the State, throughout an imagined[146] reign of confusion, were really administered with singular and unprecedented regularity.

Before the business of the Petition and Advice had brought to a close, there were certain other matters been settled by Parliament. Upon a resolution coming before the House to approve of the ordinance of March the 30th, 1653, which appointed Commissioners for approbation of public preachers, with the proviso that those nominated in the intervals of Parliament should be sanctioned by Parliament, Mr. Bodurda, member for Beaumaris, claimed that a minister finding himself aggrieved should "have the benefit of the law;" and went on to say that it was mischievous to entrust commissioners with the power of determining in such cases, without affording any legal remedy for injustice. Sir John Reynolds, an Irish member, replied, that to adopt this suggestion would be to pluck up by the roots a design which had proved itself already a good tree by the fruits which it had borne. Delinquents, he urged, might claim as their inheritance what they had forfeited, and obtain a writ of quare impedit; whereupon the new ecclesiastical polity would fall to the ground. The Ordinance for ejecting ministers came also under consideration the very same day, when some members, as might be expected, complained of irregularity, injustice, and extravagance, chargeable upon the Commissioners. On the other hand, it was contended that though many irreligious Clergymen had been expelled, there were more who desired to be so. Some Counties had not passed through any expurgation. Hence it was "resolved that the Ordinances for the ejection of scandalous, ignorant, and insufficient ministers and schoolmasters" should remain in force for three years, unless the Parlia[147]ment should take further notice of the subject in the mean time.[144]

Upon a debate in the month of May, respecting the administration of oaths to recusants, with a view to their detection, sentiments found expression far above the current opinion of those days. It was against the laws of Englishmen to impose such oaths on Roman Catholics—said Captain Baines, member for Appleby. Colonel Briscoe—who had been returned for Cumberland—maintained the same opinion, adding that such an imposition was a revival of the ex officio oath; that it was inconsistent with the liberty of conscience which then existed, and which, according to the Lord Protector, had never existed before since Christ's time; and that it would fall most heavily upon conscientious persons, whereas to others it would only be like "drinking another glass of sack." In the course of this same discussion, complaints were uttered, to the effect that Papists increased, and that it was difficult to get a jury to convict them: after which Mr. Butler, member for Poole, declared that in one or two parishes they had multiplied "one hundred in a year;" and he thought he might say that he himself had convicted some hundreds.[145]

The old difficulty, how to make people pay their tithes—not yet overcome by all the legislation on the subject in the years 1647 and 1648—presented itself to this Parliament. Cromwell's Council books afford numerous instances of ministerial complaints respecting arrears of income. Orders promptly made are recorded; but subsequent complaints indicate how the execution of these orders must have been resisted. For example, it was[148] directed, in 1654, that an augmentation of the chapelry of Brentford, Middlesex, by a charge on the tithes of the Rectory of Ashwell, in Hertfordshire, up to that time paid in corn, should be paid in money; and the Lord Protector recommended that the income should be increased to £100 per annum. The same augmentation became afterwards charged on other Rectories; and, in the year 1657, his Highness and the Rector of Hanwell (Brentford being in Hanwell parish), appointed Abriel Borfett to the Brentford chapelry. Yet, after all these repeated arrangements, petitions for payment of arrears abundantly prove the difficulty which existed in the way of enforcing the claim.[146]

On the 1st of June, 1657, Sir William Strickland, member for Yorkshire, moved the first reading of a new tithe Bill; and, upon Whitelocke's objecting to a clause in it authorizing ministers or their agents to enter men's houses to enforce payment, as a thing never granted even in times of Popery—no man having ever heard of a distress for tithes—the mover replied that he was afraid some persons had a design, by bringing disgrace on the system, to dishonour the Gospel; that there were men who would leap over hedge and ditch, and over the whole decalogue, and then scruple about tithes, and never willingly pay them; that some severity was needful to preserve Church revenues; and that the same principle which endangered one kind of property imperilled all the rest.[147]

The Presbyterians were zealous in catechising their children. The Provincial Assembly of London had[149] passed a series of resolutions on the subject in 1655,[148] and now an attempt was made to legislate upon the subject; but when a Bill for this purpose was introduced on the 9th June, 1657, Major-General Desborough moved that it be "left behind," since it would "discontent many godly persons and make them mourn." Others spoke in the same strain, but Mr. Vincent, member for Truro, and Colonel Briscoe, begged on their knees, that the House "would not forbear the Bill," in which earnest and impassioned plea they were supported by so large a majority of Presbyterian members that, on a division, the yeas were 82, and the noes but 7. "So," as the Journals record, "it was resolved that the Bill for catechising be now carried up." It was carried up with several other bills: whereupon the Speaker made a short speech to his Highness "relating to the slowness of great bodies moving, and how our fruits were like that of the harvest, not all ripe at a time, but everything in its season; and how he hoped that this was but the vintage to the autumn the Parliament was preparing, and that it was not with their productions as with Rebecca's births, where one had another by the heel, but that their generation of laws was like that of natural generation, and that his Highness was the sun in the firmament of this Commonwealth, and he must give the ultimate life and breath to our laws."

Thirty-eight of the Bills received the Protectoral assent, but the thirty-ninth, the Bill for catechising, met with a strange fate. After a little pause, his Highness, looking at the parchment before him, said, "I am desirous to advise of this Bill." Hence the Bill dropped. This being done, the House returned about two o'clock to[150] report proceedings, when Mr. Bampfield, member for Exeter, standing by the table, declared "that his Highness never did himself such an injury as he had done that day." Mr. Scobell, the clerk, told Mr. Bampfield he ought not to talk so, but the stiff Presbyterian declared "he would say it anywhere."[149]

The same Mr. Bampfield made a report on the 11th of June "from the Grand Committee for Religion," when a sub-committee was empowered to send for godly and learned ministers and laymen to consult respecting a better version of the Psalms. And, at the same time, upon its appearing that the Scriptures had been grossly misprinted, it was ordered that 7,900 copies, printed in 1653, should be seized to prevent their sale or their dispersal; and that John Field, the printer, should be required to get in such books as were of this impression: and also attend the House to give an account touching the misprinting of the said Bibles.[150]

The Sabbath question also came under debate this same summer month. Too many penal laws, in the[151] opinion of Colonel Holland, who represented Lancashire, had already been enacted for enforcing the observance of the day. The last Bill, he said, had been passed on a Saturday, and the consequence was, that the next morning, he could not get to church by land or by water, without violating the Act. The honourable member's own waterman, after conveying him to hear a sermon at Somerset House, became subject to a fine, and the honourable member's own boat was seized as a security for payment. A debate ensued as to the right of searching houses to find delinquents, when Mr. Godfrey, member for Kent, moved that such right should be exercised only in taverns, tobacco-shops, and alehouses. Mr. Vincent, and Colonel Chadwick—the latter then a representative for Nottingham—thought that this restriction would defeat the purpose in view, as the principal breaches of the law were committed in private habitations. Lord Whitelocke, on a division, carried an amendment to the effect that entry should only be demanded, but not forcibly accomplished. The Bill enumerated such offenders as, on Sundays, idly and profanely sat by their gate, or door, or elsewhere, or walked in churchyards. He urged that all these words ought to be left out; and Mr. Godfrey suggesting that idle loungers thus described would plead that they were meditating upon holy things, urged the omission of the terms "profane and idle sitting," and especially the word "elsewhere." Major-General Whalley objected that, if people at Nottingham, for example, might not sit by the entrance of their rock houses on a Sunday, they would be deprived of every breath of air. Mr. Bordura considered that as some people had no accommodation for sitting, words should be subjoined prohibiting them from "leaning or standing at doors." In reply to Colonel[152] Briscoe, who said he would not have laws too rigid, Major Burton—member for Great Yarmouth—declared he would as soon drop the Bill altogether as leave out the disputed clause. Then rose Mr. West—who represented Cambridgeshire—saying they would not leave out the word "elsewhere," for there might be profaneness in sitting under a tree, or in an arbour, or in Gray's Inn Walks. The stringent clause was thrown out on a division of 37 against 35. Colonel Holland expressed himself as not satisfied in reference to the time when the Lord's Day should be considered to begin; and added, that some godly people were in doubt as to the institution altogether; and that, whereas once he himself would have gone to six or seven sermons a-day, now he would do no such thing. He thought he could as well serve God at home. He was for keeping the Sabbath as much as any man, believing that though there was no precept enforcing it, every one by nature was tied to its observance. Amidst cries of "question," the debate continued "so late that a candle was called in, and after a while the Bill was agreed to pass, and ordered to be engrossed."[151]

[153]

This animated conversation in the old House of Commons—which we have thought it worth while to report, even at inconvenient length—reflects the various opinions, both strict and lax, which were then held relative to the question of Sunday observance. Yet, after all, perhaps, the report scarcely conveys to us exactly what the speakers meant. Some of them really might intend by their extravagant statements and ridiculous method of argument only to meet their opponents' reasoning with a reductio ad absurdum, although the steady, plodding diarist who took the notes from which we have drawn up our summary did not seem to see the matter in that light.

The Act, as it appears in Scobell, prohibited travelling, entertainment at inns, every kind of trading, and all dancing and singing, and other amusement, inclusive even of walking during Divine service. Moreover, if people did not attend church or chapel where the true worship of God was celebrated, they were to pay for each instance of neglect two shillings and sixpence, which sum, after the payment of informers, was to be appropriated for the benefit of the poor.[152]

At the close of the first session of the second Parliament, there was enacted, on Friday, the 26th of June, 1657, a gorgeous ceremony, equivalent to the coronation of the Puritan king. Purple robes, sceptre, and sword, a chair of state—no other than the regal one of Scotland, brought out of Westminster Abbey—and a brilliant array of officers, judges, civic dignitaries, and the like, gave regal pomp to the occasion.[153] The scene was exhibited under[154] a magnificent canopy of state in Westminster Hall, whose oaken rafters had so often echoed with the music and revelry of Plantagenet and Tudor feastings; and where, in 1653, Cromwell had first been installed Protector, with less state splendour than on this second occasion, and without the addition of any sacred rites.[154] Religious worship, however, became associated with the present solemnity, and there also appeared religious symbolism in a form which passed quite beyond the common circle of Puritan ideas. The Speaker of the House of Commons referred to Alexander, and Aristotle, to Moses, and Homer, to David, and Solomon, and to "the noble Lord Talbot, in Henry the Sixth's time," in order to shew what appropriate spiritual lessons were suggested by the robes, the sceptre, the sword, and the Bible. Richly-gilt and embossed, the Holy Book was—with the regalia—laid upon a table covered with pink-coloured Genoa velvet fringed with gold. "His Highness," dressed in a costly mantle lined with ermine, and girt with a sword of great value, stood—says a contemporary record—"looking up unto the throne of the Most High, who is Prince of princes, and in whom is all his confidence; Mr. Manton, by prayer, recommended his Highness, the Parliament,[155] the Council, his Highness's forces by sea and land, the whole Government, and people of these three nations, to the blessing and protection of God Almighty. After this, the people giving several great shouts, and the trumpets sounding, his Highness sat down in the chair of state, holding the sceptre in his hand."[155] Heralds; Garter, and Norroy, King-at-Arms; his Highness's Gentlemen; men of the Long Robe; the Judges; Commissioners of all sorts; Robert, Earl of Warwick, bareheaded, with the sword of the Commonwealth; the Lord Mayor, with the City sword; Privy Counsellors and Generals took part in the ceremony—whilst on seats, built scaffold-wise, sat the Members of Parliament; and below them, the Judges and the Aldermen of London.

When the ceremony had ended, the Protector—having saluted the foreign ambassadors—entered his state coach, together with the Earl of Warwick, Lord Richard Crom[156]well, his son, and Bulstrode, Lord Whitelocke, who sat with him on one side; and Lord Viscount Lisle and General Montague on the other: Lord Claypole led the horse of honour caparisoned with the richest trappings. At night there were great rejoicings.

Parliament reassembled January the 20th, 1658. Lord Commissioner Fiennes made a speech that day before his Highness, in which he entered at large upon the subject of toleration and charity. He spoke quaintly of the Rock:—"A spirit of imposing upon men's consciences, where God leaves them a latitude;" and of the Quicksand:—"An abominable licentiousness to profess and practise any sort of detestable opinions and principles." The object of the Petition and Advice was to steer a middle course between the two. He strongly inveighed against bigotry, and maintained that the right way was the golden mean, even God's way. God, when he came to Elijah, was not in the whirlwind, the earthquake, or the fire; but in the small still voice. So with men's religious profession. "It must," said his Lordship, "be a small and still voice, enough to hold forth a certain and distinct sound, but not to make so great a noise as to drown all other voices besides. It is good, it is useful, to hold forth a certain confession of the truth; but not so as thereby to exclude all those that cannot come up to it in all points, from the privileges which belong to them as Christians, much less, which belong to them as men."[156] The members who had been excluded were now admitted, after having taken the oath according to the "Petition and Advice." They were extremely republican in their ideas, and were inveterate enemies[157] to the Protector: their influence with their own party outside had been increased by their recent conduct, which was regarded as proving their strong attachment to "the good old cause." At the same time some of Cromwell's warmest friends were removed to the other House, which had been constituted so as to resemble somewhat the ancient House of Peers. The effect of this new state of things upon the two parties existing among the Commons became immediately apparent.

After the new oath had been administered to all the ministers—a business which it took some hours for six commissioners to accomplish—the Commons, preceded by their mace-bearer, as of old, marched up to the House of Lords, where his Highness the Protector, in kingly state, received them, and then proceeded to address the united assembly as "My Lords and Gentlemen."—"You have now a godly ministry," said his Highness, "you have a knowing ministry; such an one as, without vanity be it spoken, the world has not, men knowing the things of God, and able to search into the things of God, by that only which can fathom those things in some measure."[157]

Soon after Cromwell's opening speech, a debate arose[158] about the "maintenance of a godly ministry"—by which words the Lord Protector on the one hand, and on the other, many who sat in this Parliament, would not mean quite the same thing. In the estimation of certain members, scarcely any revenues remained for the Clergy, notwithstanding all the provision which had been made for them of late years. Forty or fifty petitions lay on the table, asking for aid to support the preaching of the Gospel; but there existed no available sources of relief. In Lancashire it was affirmed that there were parishes, nineteen miles square, containing two thousand Protestant communicants, besides as many Papists—which parishes greatly needed subdivision, whilst the ministers equally needed increased means of support. How to maintain the clergy was the question in hand; but, according to a habit common in public assemblies, the debate soon veered round to another point, and presently the House was found struggling with the enquiry, Should there be another Convocation or Assembly of Divines? One member battled both points at once—contending there was no need of any further assembly; and that before they raised additional money for religious purposes they ought to pay their civil debts. A second speaker observed that there had been already an Assembly, which had settled foundations, but it had been dissolved, and to call another would be very expensive—whilst persons fit to compose it would be found very scarce. But, exclaimed a third, though what the late Assembly resolved had been put in print, it had not been put in practice, and there needed a new authority of the same kind, to gather out the weeds from amidst the corn. The ordination of ministers and some outward form of unity were also of great importance, which could be obtained only by another ecclesiastical[159] Convocation. A fourth condemned the proposal altogether, inasmuch as the former assembly had sat long, had cost much, and had effected little. With such differences of opinion that question was speedily waived. Complaints respecting the marriage law and the insecurity of registration next came upon the carpet; and the non-residence of leading men in the universities was attacked by the introduction of a Bill for its prevention; but soon a subject arose before the House which swallowed up all other subjects of debate. Cromwell's batch of Peers proved the rock on which the second Protectorate Parliament went to pieces.[158] Sir Arthur Haselrig—who took his seat with the Commons, although nominated one of the new Peers—appears prominently in the final Republican broil, occasioned by the attempt to give to the Commonwealth somewhat of the aristocratic aspect of a kingdom. And here, it is affecting to recollect the change which eighteen years had effected in reference to men as well as measures. Of the patriots who took the lead at the opening of the Long Parliament, John Pym slept under the pavement of Westminster Abbey; John Hampden was at rest in the village church which bore his name; Brooke, years before, had ended his career at Lichfield; Dering, after his changeful course, had been gathered to his fathers; Vane and Marten were in retirement; others had disappeared; and now, of all the most busy actors on the stage in 1640, there remained before the public view only Oliver Cromwell, with Haselrig, the "hare-brained" in hot opposition, and Nathaniel Fiennes—more wise in council than valiant in war—fighting out this last political battle at the side of the Protector, his old friend.

[160]

His Highness's speeches on the 25th of January and 4th of February were filled with patriotism and wisdom, and with manifest touches of pathos, in harmony with such pensive memories of this mortal state of existence as have been just indicated; and in keeping, too, with such a foresight of the end soon to follow, as we now are able to exercise. They are the last two of those memorable orations which, after being long neglected, are now beginning to be studied and understood.

In the former of these speeches, the brave and noble ruler of England—burdened not so much with the infirmities of years as with the cares of government, worn out not by old age, but by years of toil and anxiety, of counsel, and of war—spoke of what was most dear to his heart, of the Protestant interest abroad, and the Protestant interest at home; for Cromwell was a Protestant to the backbone. Papists had been England's enemies from Queen Elizabeth's reign downwards, and as enemies to their country they were treated by the Protector.[159] And besides Papists, others in his estimation threatened the interests of the Commonwealth.

Just at this juncture, the Republicans, in their opposition to the new settlement, were bent upon upsetting everything. Foundation stones just laid were being rudely torn up, and the whole fabric was fast falling to pieces. Indeed some sectaries pleaded, in a certain foolish book, quoted but not named, for "an orderly confusion." "Orderly confusion!" exclaimed his Highness. "Men[161] have wonderfully lost their consciences and their wits. I speak of men going about who cannot tell what they would have, yet are willing to kindle coals to disturb others." Fifth Monarchy men, also, were now hastening in the same direction as the Royalists. Whilst they wanted to set up a republic, they were in fact playing the game of the King of Scots. "It were a happy thing," said the old man, wearied out with the war of opinion, "if the nation would be content with rule. 'Content with rule' if it were but in civil things, and with those that would rule worst; because misrule is better than no rule, and an ill government, a bad government is better than none! Neither is this all, but we have an appetite to variety, to be not only making wounds, 'but widening those already made.' As if you should see one making wounds in a man's side, and eager only to be groping and grovelling with his fingers in those wounds! This is what such men would be at; this is the spirit of those who would trample on men's liberties in spiritual respects. They will be making wounds, and rending and tearing and making them wider than they were. Is not this the case? Doth there want anything—I speak not of sects in an ill sense, but the nation is hugely made up of them—and what is the want that prevents these things from being done to the uttermost, but that men have more anger than strength? They have not power to attain their ends. 'There wants nothing else.' And I beseech you judge what such a company of men of these sects are doing, while they are contesting one with another! They are contesting in the midst of a generation of men (a malignant Episcopal party, I mean) contesting in the midst of these all united. What must be the issue of such a thing as this?"[160]

[162]

Then, on the 4th of February, came those last words which wound up all—last words which Englishmen are now studying with deep earnestness, and with increasing insight—"And if this be the end of your sitting and this be your carriage, I think it high time that an end be put to your sitting, and I do dissolve this Parliament. And let God be judge between you and me."

"Believe me," said Hartlib, Milton's friend; "believe me it was of such necessity, that if their session had continued but two or three days longer, all had been in blood, both in city and country, upon Charles Stuart's account."[161]

Ecclesiastical legislation for England, under Oliver Cromwell's Protectorate, ended with the dissolution of Parliament. Of course there were no more Acts; nor were there any more Ordinances, respecting Church affairs. But the same sleepless vigilance and unwearied activity as before, were shewn by the Protector in relation to religious as well as other subjects. The ponderous Order Book for 1658—in which may be traced the proceedings of Government from day to day—bears witness to the large amount of ecclesiastical business transacted by his Highness and his counsellors. They determined upon the supply of destitute parishes, chapelries, and outlying populations; the settlement of questions about tithes, church leases, and rights of presentation; the union of parishes; the augmentation of incomes, and various grants to public preachers.[162] There also occur orders to[163] make collections for the repair of a church at South Oxendon, struck by lightning; and of another at Egbaston, damaged in the wars. It is curious to meet with a petition of the members of the Congregational Church, at Warwick, complaining that a constable had indicted Mr. Whitehead, a member, for not attending the parish church, and had demanded fines for absence; whereupon it was ordered that a letter should be written to the Justices, to let them know, that if the case were as it had been represented, the Council was much dissatisfied therewith, as an abridgment of that liberty which the law allowed. More curious still is it to meet with a complaint of reproachful and provoking language having been used at church by a Commonwealth's man against a Royalist, who is described as being "under obligation, with great penalties, to his Highness for keeping the peace, and good bearing of himself to his Highness." It is most curious of all, to find a petition from Anastatius Cominus—a Bishop of the Greek Church, under the patriarch of Alexandria—on behalf of himself and others, referred to the Committee for approbation of public preachers.[163]

How favourably these entries in the old parchment-bound folio—written in a firm, bold, legible hand, characteristic of the men whose proceedings they chronicle—contrast with the records of the Protectorate Parliament! Whilst the latter were spending their time upon bigoted efforts to curtail the religious liberties of the people; the Council of State, with the actual sovereign of England at its head, was employing an effective influence to check the career and to mitigate the mischiefs of intolerance. And as this supreme executive body tem[164]pered the narrow policy of parties, it also repressed the misguided zeal of individuals. How significant is that expression of displeasure at the attempted abridgment of freedom which had been made in a miserably sectarian spirit by some who, professing to maintain justice and charity, to say the very least, ought to have known better.

CHAPTER VIII.

The schemes of politicians, the proceedings of Parliament, and the administration of affairs by a Council of State—although necessary to be studied in order to obtain a knowledge of external circumstances, such as, under the Commonwealth, powerfully influenced religious society—can convey but a very inadequate idea of the actual working of ecclesiastical institutions at that period; and no conception whatever of the spiritual life either of churches or of individuals. It is requisite, therefore, that we should turn our attention to the inner history of different communions; and not only look somewhat minutely at their character and proceedings, but also glance at a few of the eminent individuals who were connected with them.

Both in theory and practice, Cromwell's Broad Church included Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists. In reviewing the state of these parties respectively, we commence with the Presbyterians.

The Presbyterian scheme of church government,[164] as[166] determined by the Assembly of Divines, contains an enumeration of three kinds of officers—namely, pastors, who both preached and ruled; lay elders, who ruled, but did not preach; and deacons, who chiefly attended to the necessities of the poor. Each congregation was to have its affairs administered by such officers; and upon the Presbytery, consisting of Pastors and Elders,[165] devolved the oversight of communicants, the maintenance of discipline, and the administration of censures. Censures, too, admitted of three degrees—admonition, suspension, and excommunication. Notorious offenders were required to make an acknowledgment of sin before the whole congregation; and if they proved incorrigible, they were to be cut off from the communion of the Lord's Supper, and from the right of bringing their children to be baptized. Means, however, were to be employed for the restoration of such unhappy outcasts.[166]

Next to this congregational or parish Presbytery, and superior to it, was the Classical Assembly, composed of[167] delegates from parish congregations—the number sent by each not being more than four, or less than two. Their business was to take cognizance of the conduct of Ministers and Elders; to admit candidates to office; to enquire into the state of congregations; to decide cases too difficult for settlement by Parochial Elders; and to discharge such legislative functions as did not usurp the authority of the higher courts. Disputes between Ministers and Elders were determined before this classical tribunal. The Provincial Synod formed the next superior court, to which delegates went from the classical Presbyteries; meetings for the Province of Lancaster being held in the church at Preston. Thither appeals were carried, and there judgments were enforced; and there also candidates for the ministry passed through a theological examination. The preliminary trials having reached a satisfactory conclusion, notice was posted on the church door, that the persons approved would be ordained at the end of a month, if no objection were offered. That solemn service included the offering of prayers, the preaching of a sermon, the asking of the Pastor Elect certain questions, and the imposition of hands, with the delivery of a pastoral charge. He afterwards received a certificate of ordination.

To crown the series of church courts, a General Assembly was requisite; but to this point of perfection Presbyterianism in England never attained. Even in Lancashire, where the system appeared in its greatest vigour, its movements were greatly crippled. Episcopalians resisted it; avowing their love for Bishops, continuing to use the surplice and the liturgy, and condemning Presbyterian marriages and sacraments. The want of State authority for the enforcement of a complete scheme of discipline was a great vexation to its[168] advocates; and when the Covenant could no longer be pressed, and the law against the Prayer Book proved a dead letter, the predominant religionists found it difficult to contend against the lingering popularity of ancient forms, and sometimes strove in vain to resist the efforts which were made to introduce ejected Episcopalians into vacant pulpits. They at length discovered it was to their own interest to draw towards their Episcopalian brethren; and before the Commonwealth expired, attempts were made to establish a moderate form of diocesan rule, somewhat after the model ascribed to Archbishop Ussher. The two parties searched for points of ecclesiastical agreement, and went so far as to preach in each other's places of worship. In some cases political sympathies formed a still deeper basis of union. Disliking the Protectorate, and longing for the restoration of royalty, both parties joined in the famous insurrection under Sir George Booth in 1659. And a further bond arose in a common antipathy to the sects and to all unordained ministers.

Among the Lancashire Presbyterians were some very remarkable men. Richard Herrick, Warden of the Collegiate church of Manchester, was learned, munificent, disinterested, and conscientious; but he was one of the most passionate of partizans, at a time when partizanship was pre-eminently rife. He had little or no enmity to Episcopacy in the abstract,[167] but only[169] disliked certain individual bishops, whom he considered to have been indifferent to the advances of Popery. The mild Juxon incurred his rebuke, because, as Herrick said, he preferred his hounds and his falcons to the defence of Protestantism. It was mainly through the exertions of the Manchester Warden, that Presbyterianism acquired ascendancy in Lancashire; he having promoted a petition to Parliament for that end, signed by many thousand persons. Resolutely did he resist the sequestration of church lands; doggedly did he refuse to give up the charter chest, even when soldiers came to burst open the door. His sympathy with Love caused him at one time to be placed under arrest; and nothing could induce him to leave Manchester, where he believed Providence had stationed him in troublous times, that he might defend the faith which was beleaguered by so many and such various foes. There in the Collegiate Church—now transformed into a Cathedral—he thundered out his anathemas against Rome, and fearlessly arraigned the proceedings of men in power. John Knox, before the Lords of the Council, and Hugh Latimer, in St. Paul's Churchyard, never launched more fiery bolts against the Mother of Harlots.

Herrick once addressed his audience in the following words—and we give them as a specimen of the kind of oratory then popular, and as a picture, though a very exaggerated one, of the state of things in some parts of England.

"Be pleased to conceive a Parliament at this time convened in Heaven, and God on His throne asking this[170] question: 'Shall I destroy England?' And so some answer after this manner, and some after that: 'Great cry of injustice, of oppression, of wrong, of injury!" 'Blood toucheth blood; courts of justice and committees are courts of robbery and spoil; the poor sheep flies to the bush for shelter, and loses his fleece!' 'Papists and malignants compound, and they oppress their poor tenants that have engaged themselves in the public cause for the Lord against their lords!' A fourth confirms, and concludes with the other three: 'England must be destroyed. They have falsified the oath of God. Oaths and covenants are like Sampson's cords; every one makes use of them to his own interests!' To these agreed many more, so that there was a great cry heard in the house: 'Down with it, down with it, even to the ground!' God looked from His throne, and wondered there was not one found—not one to stand in the gap to make an atonement to speak in the behalf of England. After a short silence, one arose from his seat, and said: 'Lord, wilt Thou destroy England—England, for whom Thou hast done so great things? Wilt Thou destroy what Thine hand hath done? What will the Atheists, the Papists, the malignants say? Surely God was not able to save them. Save them, then, for Thy great name's sake!' A second ariseth, and saith: 'England must not be destroyed! Lord, wilt Thou destroy a righteous nation, if there be fifty, forty, thirty, twenty, ten righteous there? Shall not the judge of all the earth do that which is right? There are seven thousand at least that have not bowed their knees to Baal! There are sixty thousand, and more, yea, than sixty hundred thousand, that cannot discern betwixt the right hand and the left! Thou never didst destroy a praying, a reforming people! Wilt Thou now do what was never in Thy thoughts before?' A third[171] ariseth after the second, and pleads the same cause: 'England must not be destroyed! There is a Parliament in the midst of them—physicians of great value! God hath been amongst them, and in the midst of them; and they are still acting for God and the kingdom's safety! Did ever Parliament perish before?' After all these, the fourth ariseth, that there might not appear fewer to speak for than there was to speak against England: 'England must not be destroyed! They cannot die alone; the three kingdoms must die with them—yea, the Protestants' churches throughout the world! Hast Thou not said that hell gates shall not prevail against Thy people?' To these many more joined in heart and vote, so that there was a considerable party of both sides; nor could it be determined whether had more voices, those that spake for the destruction, or they that spake for the salvation of England. And having said, they were silent.

"And behold, as we read in the Revelation, there was in heaven great silence for half an hour, both sides waiting for God's determination. At last, God in His glorious majesty raised Himself from His throne, and effectually cried out: 'How shall I give thee up, England? how shall I give thee up?' And so, without conclusion and final determination, He dissolved the session, to the admiration and astonishment of both parties."[168]

Adam Martindale, with whom we become intimately acquainted through the medium of his autobiography—had been a tutor, and had kept school in very strange places—even in public-houses, where he had been compelled to share in both bed and board with such companions[172] as Papists, and soldiers, and drunkards. His employment as a schoolmaster had been adopted in order to avoid enlistment as a soldier; yet he was taken prisoner by Prince Rupert in the town of Liverpool, and made to walk without any shoes—the troopers, as he hobbled along, snapping his ears with their pistol-locks. Having been converted under a kind of preaching which he compares to "a sharp needle drawing after it a silken thread of comfort," he wished to enter one of the Universities, and to take holy orders; but, during a visitation of the plague, he was persuaded to preach in Manchester, an incident which led to his immediate entrance upon the sacred office. He became minister of Gorton,—a chapelry in the parish of Manchester,—where his relation to the Manchester Presbytery was somewhat peculiar; for he would not avow himself either a Presbyterian or a Congregationalist, and, although he signed the rules of the Classical Assembly, he would never attend any of the meetings of that body. On leaving Gorton, he accepted the vicarage of Rosthern, in the county of Chester; the parishioners there uniting in an engagement to pay him the sum of £10 quarterly. Not having been ordained, he now sought ordination from the Manchester ministers; and, upon being refused the rite at their hands, he proceeded to London to obtain it there. After much perplexity respecting the Engagement, he at last subscribed, but the subscription seems to have troubled his conscience; and in his new Cheshire incumbency, where he laboured with singular diligence, he met with additional trials from certain "gifted" brethren belonging to a Congregational Church in the neighbourhood who were exceedingly fond of preaching. Nevertheless, he maintained fellowship with Pastors of that denomination, and promoted the establishment of a voluntary union, as[173] distinguished from the Manchester classis, with which institution he ever scrupled to identify himself.

Henry Newcome, another Lancashire minister—more of a Presbyterian than was Martindale—had been educated at Cambridge, and had acquired the art of extempore utterance with much volubility, even before his ordination, which took place in the year 1648. There can be no doubt of the godliness and zeal of this eccentric person; but his eccentricities were so striking, as recorded by himself, that they impart a peculiar interest to his amusing narrative. In his earlier days, whilst Rector of Gawsworth, in the county of Chester, he led an active life, and spent a good deal of time on horseback—like an Arab of the desert, but with more mischances than ever befel any one of those skilful riders—since, for being run away with, for tumbling off his steed, and for being nearly drowned, he had scarcely his fellow; whilst in all such misfortunes, as well as in the deliverances which accompanied them, he traced the hand of a special Providence. In one of his merry moods, when certain gentlewomen from a neighbouring Hall came to call upon him, he frightened the fair visitors by charging and firing off a pistol in fun; and throughout life, games at billiards and at shuffle-board formed the favourite amusement of this lively Divine, for which purpose he frequented an alehouse hard by his residence; although often checking his inclination in that respect, and maintaining in reference to all his recreations a large amount of self-discipline. He would keep close to serious business the whole day, and then, in the evening, he would go out for a little coveted enjoyment. "And for mirth," he says, "which I was afraid of too great a latitude in, I thought it was my duty to let some savoury thing fall where I had spoken merrily, or to count my[174]self truly in debt for as much serious discourse for every jest I had told." There occurs in his diary a case of conscience, as to whether it was right to go and see a "horse in the town of Manchester that was taught to do strange things for such a creature to do." He finds seven reasons against going, and thus concludes: "To go might be a sin, not to go I know was no sin, and therefore this was the safer way."[169]

Next to the county of Lancaster, the Metropolis proved the most favourable soil for Presbyterian piety. There stands in London Wall a quaintly-fashioned edifice—like an old world with a few inhabitants left in it to keep watch and ward—its courts almost as silent and desolate as the Alhambra. Few people now see Sion College, with its almshouses, founded by Dr. Thomas White, Vicar of St. Dunstan's-in-the-West, and its library, the gift of John Simson, Rector of St. Olave's, Hart Street; but it was a place of great resort during the Commonwealth, when its architectural appearance differed from what it is at present; for then a building erected in the time of James I., and consumed afterwards in the London Fire, covered the spot; and in the little rooms of that monastic-like establishment, young London clergymen found lodgings until they could be provided with houses within the parishes which they served. The snug almshouses accommodated ten poor men and ten poor women. The library, even at that time, was extensive, and could boast of some curious old books and MSS., which have since been burnt or lost; and the whole establishment was governed by a President, two Deans, and four Assistants, who were all furnished with a residence within the spacious precincts.

[175]

Sion College fell into Presbyterian hands at the outbreak of the civil wars. A list of the successive Presidents is preserved, including several well-known names; and some few particulars of its changeful story have been recorded by one of its librarians.[170] From him we learn how the famous Edmund Calamy occupied the Presidential chair in the year 1650, when Cromwell's soldiers, lately quartered within the walls, were removed at the President's request; and how, the next year, they returned, under Colonel Berkestead, for the safety of the city and the parts adjacent—special care being had that "the library should be kept safe, and no injury done to it." These military gentlemen proved troublesome guests; and the clerk was forced to leave his dwelling, and students and others who paid for their lodgings were also compelled to quit—so that through failure of rent-payments there remained not sufficient money to meet the claims of the officers and the poor. At length, by an order of the Court, thanks were voted to the Protector for removing the soldiers; his Highness at the same time being informed of "the spoil and havoc they had made in the College."

But other matters, of greater importance than the deliverance of the quiet spot from the intrusion of noisy troopers, occupied the attention of those who assembled within the chambers of the College. It was the place of meeting for the members of the London Synod; and there they strove to put in action the ecclesiastical machinery which had been contrived at Westminster. The old minute book of their proceedings—strangely neglected by historians—still exists, and to what we find[176] written on its large folio leaves we are indebted for the following items of information.

The Divines of the London and Westminster classes began to assemble in May, 1647, and at once they determined on rules for the guidance of the Moderator, the Scribes, and the members; and, to secure order, they made, amongst others, these two prudent bye-laws: "That private whispering shall be forborne;" and "That no man shall use irreverent or uncomely language, or behaviour." The pecuniary contribution required was but small, each member having to deposit twelvepence towards the charge of the Assembly.

A careful record occurs of petitions to Parliament in the year 1647, complaining that the number of ministers settled was too small; that some of them baptized children in private houses, and married people without the publication of banns or the consent of their parents, much to the encouragement of immorality; that others admitted all sorts of characters to the Lord's table; in short, that numerous hindrances beset the ways of ecclesiastical government. But the Divines were earnest men, and, though discouraged, they would not desist from their attempts. Accordingly, they resolved and re-resolved to bring all the young people who were above nine or ten years of age to public catechising; to persuade heads of families to train up their children and servants in good doctrine; to promote religious conferences in some methodical manner; and to advance the sanctification of the Sabbath, the daily reading of the Scriptures, and the setting up of a regular course of morning and evening prayer. For these purposes parishes were to be subdivided, so that households might come under the inspection of the several Elders. The Committee also prepared forms of exhortation for[177] "furthering the power of godliness," and urged ministers to demonstrate in sermons the great necessity and utility of catechising; the lesser catechism being the enjoined formulary of instruction, and the time appointed for its use being Sunday afternoon before sermon. Repeated lamentations occur relative to Sabbath-breaking, and appeals are ever and anon renewed for preaching on the subject of this great offence. Sorrow is expressed that laws were not put in force for promoting Sabbath observance; and it is touching to read a sentence—written, perhaps, when few were present, and when hearts were faint:—"What though we be poor and despised, we may not forget God's law."

Publications composed in defence of Presbyterian government underwent large discussion, and are copied at length in the minutes. A question was raised in the year 1653, whether anything touching the Anabaptismal controversy should be referred to the Province for discussion or not; and in the year 1654, (July the 10th), Dr. Hammond's book received consideration.[171] Seven days afterwards the committee were of opinion "that it is not fit it should be answered by the Province, and that Mr. Calamy be requested to answer it."[172]

But the Puritan ministers did not possess capacity to do what they desired. Every page of their recorded proceedings indicates want of power. They met, and met again. They debated. They resolved. They prepared exhortations and books. They appointed preachers, and they[178] thanked them for their sermons. But in the old folio there are no signs of decided synodical action. Cognizance indeed is taken of vacancies in the ministry, and in elderships, and of motions made for the "repairing" thereof. Triers are appointed for Elders; rules are laid down for ordination; and notice is taken of irregularities. But it seems scarcely anything in the way of government was really affected. One day, Mr. Pool states the incapacity of the fifth classis to ordain at present. Another day, there are many reports of Elderships left incomplete. Now we read of "Mary's, Aldermanbury," that "the minister acts not;" and then of "Matthew, Friday Street,"[173] that "the minister hath endeavoured to get elders chosen, but cannot move his parishioners to it." And, yet once more, it is said of "Peter's, Paul's wharf," that the people cannot be induced to choose elders, nor to have a minister that may act in the government. A brighter day than usual seems to have dawned in the month of April, 1656, when special notice is taken of the goodness of God in "the willing coming into government," of the people of George's-in-the-Fields, by the godly assistance of Alderman Bigg, one of the elders; and when some one rose in the assembly and spoke of the same thing being done at Bride's. But the minutes generally contain only complaints and exhortations, or entries of mere form. The ministers of Lancashire carried out discipline to some degree of perfection, but the ministers of London never got beyond "perfected rules."[174] The Minute[179] Book in Sion College bears ample witness to the Christian spirit, the indefatigable diligence, and the fervent zeal of the Divines for church order, for family religion, and for personal piety; but it also bears witness as ample, to the failure of all attempts to establish a complete Presbyterian polity in London.[175]

No one can deny that the ultimate object of the endeavour was good. The Divines were seeking—and that very earnestly—the promotion of Christian morality and virtue. They wished to reform the manners of the people, to make Christians of the large population of London, and to do as much as possible towards realizing the theory of a Christian state. But they mistook the means. So far as preaching the Gospel, pro[180]moting education, exercising social influence, and exhibiting a pious example went, they acted wisely and well. By such methods alone can irreligious men be converted. The City clergy, however, proceeded beyond this, and sought to bring under church discipline the whole body of their parishioners, whether those parishioners had voluntarily embraced their communion or not. Yet nothing can be more plain from Scripture, reason, and experience, than that such discipline can be effectually exercised only amongst people who have by their own free will entered into fellowship with a religious society. True Christian discipline can only touch persons who have submitted themselves to the laws, and acknowledged the sanctions of Christianity. When the help of the magistrate is solicited, and any kind of temporal punishment is esteemed a proper method of religious correction, the exercise of purely ecclesiastical government is virtually given up; the case is transferred from the spiritual kingdom of Christ to the empire of physical force. Of course everybody can feel the weight of the magistrate's sword, but everybody cannot and will not feel that there is power also, but of another and still more serious kind, in a pastor's crook. This difficulty was felt in the middle ages. In Archbishop Winchelsey's Constitutions at Merton, in the year 1305, mention is made of heretics who relinquished the Articles of the Faith, opposed ecclesiastical liberties, and refused to pay tithes and other dues. It was commanded that the people should be effectually persuaded to submit, and that those who did not voluntarily obey should be compelled by suspension, excommunication, and interdict. But heretics did not care for spiritual censures any more than they did for persuasion; and nothing further at that time could be brought to bear upon such offenders.[181] The evil increased.[176] At length the civil power was called in to counteract it, and at last came the Act de Hæretico Comburendo.

What is effective in a voluntary Church is utterly ineffective in one not voluntary; and when the ministers of an establishment aim at extending ecclesiastical discipline over the ungodly by means of civil penalties, they raise at once the cry of despotism, tyranny, oppression, and the like. The threatened delinquents appeal to the State in defence of their personal rights, imperilled, as they say, by the inroads of clerical ambition and the menaces of spiritual pride. This sort of appeal in modern times is always successful; and the secular power, jealous of the ecclesiastical, puts a check on its activity. Consequently, discipline becomes an impossibility. English history proves, so far as a State Church is concerned, that there is no alternative but some sort of High Commission Court, with all the odium it inspires, and all the ruin which it ultimately brings—or the relaxation of discipline altogether. It should, however, be recollected that the London Elders, clerical and lay, in their zeal for discipline only strove to effect what many Episcopalians before and since have declared to be most desirable.[177] And, moreover, the ineffective activity,[182] the fruitless discussions, the inoperative resolutions, and the complimentary votes of the Synod at Sion House, find a strict parallel in the proceedings of like assemblies in many places. Even Convocation cannot be excepted. Indeed that body, in comparison with its pretensions, is signally powerless. No one who maintains the importance and usefulness of the last-mentioned assembly can consistently ridicule or despise the efforts of their Genevan predecessors under the Commonwealth. It will be well if all Englishmen learn from these facts a lesson of moderation and charity; and while pointing out what they conceive to be flaws in systems, and foibles in characters, take care to honour all really good men, whatever their communion or opinions, and not forget to concede purity of motive in all cases where the opposite is not perfectly plain.

But if the system of Presbyterianism did not flourish in London, many of the Presbyterian ministers who laboured there, distinguished themselves alike by their ability, their learning, and their virtues; and, although failing to bring their fellow-citizens generally within their own ecclesiastical penfolds, they gathered a large number of wandering souls into the flock of the Good Shepherd. Edmund Calamy continued, throughout the period of the Commonwealth, his diligent, instructive, and eloquent ministry, in the parish church of St. Mary, Aldermanbury—that beautiful edifice—then recently repaired and adorned—with its ancient and goodly monuments in memory of famous citizens and their families, and[183] with its adjoining churchyard and cloisters—all the buildings swept away so soon afterwards by the terrible fire.[178] Thither multitudes were accustomed to flock to hear the Gospel, and the narrow streets leading to the place of worship were blocked up service after service, with "three-score coaches"—the minimum number of vehicles which, according to the preacher's grandson, conveyed the wealthy Presbyterians to the old church door.[179] The well-known portrait of the Divine—exhibiting his large eyes, aquiline nose, and well-formed mouth, surrounded by a thin moustache and beard, and with his close-cut hair peeping from beneath his black skull cap—enables us to imagine him, standing in his pulpit, proclaiming with fervour the great doctrines and duties of Christianity; whilst, at the same time, as we are told—in contrast with the earlier habits of his brethren—he cautiously avoided any references to political affairs. Yet he did not prove false to his ecclesiastical principles, for he took a large share in composing an elaborate Vindication of them, published under that title,[180] and in preparing another book bearing the Latin name of "Jus Divinum Ministerii Evangelici et Anglicani."

William Jenkyn—already noticed as a sufferer in connection with the alleged plot which brought Love to the scaffold—had been deprived of his preferment at Christ Church, Newgate-street, because of his having condemned the execution of Charles I., and also for having refused to observe certain thanksgiving days appointed by Parliament. Feake, the notorious Fifth Monarchist, succeeded him in his living, and though Jenkyn was relieved from[184] the sequestration, he was for a time either unable or unwilling to eject his successor. But the parishioners, anxious to enjoy the services of their former incumbent, established a lectureship, and appointed him to conduct it, with which office he combined a similar one at St. Anne's, Blackfriars. When Feake became obnoxious to the Government, and was displaced from Christ Church, Jenkyn recovered the benefice. The more regular features, the less masculine expression of countenance, and the amply-flowing locks of this eminent preacher, were familiar to a congregation perhaps as large as that which witnessed, from week to week, the personal appearance of his friend and neighbour, Edmund Calamy. With like zeal, and with like caution, Jenkyn "wholly applied himself to preach Christ, and him crucified;"—he delivered a long course of sermons upon the names given in Scripture to the Redeemer of mankind, and expounded the Epistle of Jude at great length in a series of Discourses which are well known to the admirers of Puritan theology. A convert to Puritanism in his youth, when a student at Cambridge, and suffering persecution on that account from his father, he became afterwards, we might almost say, an heir to Protestantism in its most unequivocal form, through his marriage with a granddaughter of John Rogers. Memories of that martyr who was imprisoned in the Compter and in Newgate, and was afterwards burnt in Smithfield, would surely often cross the mind of the Presbyterian minister, as he entered the gates of Christ Church, situated in the very midst of the spots hallowed by such associations.

The church of St. Dunstan's in the East, between Tower-street and Lower Thames-street—conspicuous before the fire of London, from its having a lofty steeple covered with lead, and containing a monument of Sir John[185] Hawkins, one of Elizabeth's heroes[181]—was the scene of the ministrations of the renowned William Bates. Comely in person, with bold features, and richly curling locks; graceful with the action of a finished orator; of superior natural endowments and considerable literary culture; possessing a memory of extraordinary retentiveness; and a voice so sweetly musical that he won the name of the silver tongued; with large stores of theological knowledge; and also gifted with a Nestor-like eloquence, which fell in gentle flakes—this extraordinary pulpit orator was in high repute amongst the upper classes, and indeed amongst people of all grades. And what was infinitely better still, he was a man of rare piety and devotion. "Into what transports of admiration of the love of God," says John Howe, "have I seen him break forth when some things foreign, or not immediately relating to practical godliness, had taken up a good part of our time! How easy a step did he make of it from earth to heaven! Such as have been wont, in a more stated course to resort to him, can tell whether, when other occasions did fall in and claim their part in the discourses of that season, he did not usually send them away with somewhat that tended to better their spirits, and quicken them in their way heaven-ward. With how high flights of thought and affection was he wont to speak of the heavenly state! even like a man much more of kin to that other world than to this!"[182]

Samuel Clarke, the Puritan martyrologist—who diligently imitated the example of John Foxe—occupied the perpetual curacy of St. Bennett Fink. He came up from the country, he tells us—where he had been ministering first in a parish of remarkably intelligent Christians,[186] "though the best of them went in russet coats, and followed husbandry;" and afterwards in another cure, from which, notwithstanding his usefulness, he was disposed to remove, in consequence of the conduct of some troublesome sectaries. Walking one day along Cheapside, he met his sister and an old friend, close to Mercers' Hall. As they were chatting together in that famous thoroughfare—with its projecting stories and signboards, its quaint gables, and its odd little shop-fronts—two of the parishioners of St. Bennett Fink—then destitute of a clergyman—accidentally passed by. "You want a minister," said Clarke's friend, "and if you can prevail with this gentleman you will be well fitted." He was persuaded to preach on the following Sunday. When the time for the appointment of a new pastor came, there were ten candidates. What followed had better be described in Clarke's own words, since they afford a curious example of parish elections in those days. "When they were met in the vestry the debate was, who should be put into nomination, and all agreed that Mr. Carter, Mr. Bellars, and myself should be set down in a paper, to which they were to make their marks. Mr. Bellars had but one or two hands, and for Mr. Carter there was Mr. Greene, a Parliament man, and some six more of the greatest of the parish, before any appeared for me; but then a godly man beginning, so many of the rest followed, that the choice went clearly on my side. All this while I knew nothing hereof, or what they were about, being not acquainted with any one in the parish, nor employing any friend to speak to them in my behalf. But that day I preached at Fish-street for Mr. J. Smart, and in the evening supping there, there came a committee-man from Bennett Fink parish, to acquaint me with my free election, and to entreat me to accept of the place—taking[187] notice of the concurring providences of God, I durst not refuse the call."[183]

Peter Vink—whose autobiography, written in a style of elegant Latinity, bears witness to his domestic sympathies, his trust in God, his catholic spirit, his charity to the poor, and his unfeigned humility[184]—after holding the rectory of St. Michael's, Cornhill, became Curate of St. Catherine Creed, Leadenhall-street. Simeon Ash, described as a man of great sincerity, humility, benevolence, prudence, and patience, preaching the Gospel in season and out of season, so as not to please the ear but wound the heart, was Rector of St. Austin's, and died on the eve of St. Bartholomew, 1662.[185]

Though Presbyterian polity made but little way in England, voluntary associations, having a somewhat Presbyterian appearance, obtained in the county of Chester, in Cumberland, and in Westmoreland—and particularly in Worcestershire. Richard Baxter was the most influential minister in the last-mentioned neighbourhood; and, at the desire of his brethren, he drew up an agreement for so much of church order and discipline as might meet the views of Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents. Of course it was impossible to blend the three elements without producing a tertium quid different from each, and such as could scarcely satisfy the thorough adherents of any one of these systems. But a few large-hearted men might be found, who, in the matter of church government could conscientiously make some compromise for the sake of union; and Baxter has given their names and described[188] their proceedings. They held monthly meetings at certain market towns for conference respecting discipline. At Kidderminster and Evesham these meetings were regularly carried on. At the latter place, three Justices of the Peace, three or four Ministers, three or four Deacons, and twenty of "the ancient and godly men of the congregation," "pretending to no office as lay elders," met together to establish this new form of ecclesiastical economy. They sought to bring scandalous offenders to a right mind, reproving them if obdurate, encouraging them if penitent. The day after the parochial meeting had been held, a conference of the whole association took place, when incorrigible individuals were brought before the assembled clergy and received fresh admonition. We are told that no less than three successive days were spent in fervent intercession with God on behalf of hardened offenders; and if all proved in vain, they were at last solemnly cut off from church communion.

An attempt was made to promote efficient preaching by means of funds collected at what was called "the yearly feast of the Londoners of the county." A lecture was instituted, to be conducted by four ministers, each taking his turn once a month in places where such services were most needful. To avoid giving offence to any one, these itinerant preachers were appointed to visit the congregations of abler men; and they were strictly cautioned wherever they went, to say nothing which might diminish the influence of the humblest pastor, and steal away the hearts of the meanest of the people.

Baxter's scheme did not touch any ecclesiastical point beyond that of discipline. He, doubtless, was himself prepared to go much further, and to contrive a comprehensive policy which should embrace elements belonging to the three denominations of Christians mentioned in[189] his Agreement. Though commonly called a Presbyterian, he did not object to some things characteristic of Episcopacy, and to others peculiar to Congregationalism. Such a Presbyterian as Baxter, with such an Episcopalian as Ussher, and such an Independent as Howe, might possibly have framed a plan of ecclesiastical government, embracing Congregational election, Episcopal presidency, and Presbyterian union, within certain local limits—so as to constitute a number of federal groups, without any subordination of Courts, or any development of a Hierarchy, or any Congregational isolation. But for all this the Worcestershire clergy were not prepared. Baxter did not attempt what was Utopian, but only what was practicable. So far as he went, he seems to have succeeded, and if the experiment had been longer tried, it might have issued in something less imperfect.[186]

But whatever opinions are held on such vexed questions, there will be but one, respecting the disinterestedness and zeal of this great Divine. We learn from one of his unpublished letters, that he declined several good livings—one of them being valued at £500 a year—simply that he might remain in the parish with which his name will evermore be identified, and where his annual income did not exceed the sum of[190] £90. He remitted tithes where people could not pay them; and when he felt it his duty to recover them by law, rather than "tolerate the sacrilege and fraud of covetous men," he gave both his own "part and the damages" to the poor. The history of his parish labours is a beautiful episode in church history. Preaching was his forte. His practical works contain the substance of many of his discourses. His treatises on "Crucifying the World," "Saving Faith," "Sound Conversion," "Peace of Conscience," together with his "Call to the Unconverted," were all composed at Kidderminster; and they abound in specimens of forcible reasoning and eloquent appeal. Evangelical and practical, instructive and awakening, convincing and pungent—now grappling with the understanding, and then aiming at the heart—he must sometimes have both convinced and confounded his hearers by his fidelity and acuteness, and then have melted them down completely by his extraordinary fervour. Working out his logic, not in frost but fire, he flung from his lips burning words, which made men start and weep. He had a clear articulate tone of enunciating truth, such as is possessed only by healthy souls, and is utterly different from the indistinct mutterings of those who, by mimicry, have caught up a few religious commonplaces. Nobody can mistake the one for the other; and Baxter's congregation in the old church of St. Mary must have felt that a God-taught man stood before them, as they crowded within those walls to hang upon his lips.

Before the wars, he preached twice on Sunday, but afterwards he preached only once; conducting however a Thursday service, and other occasional services of worship in the week. On Thursday evening his parishioners were wont to come to his house, where one of them recapitulated[191] the last discourse; and all were encouraged to ask religious questions. The "exercise" ended with prayer, in which the people sometimes engaged. On Saturday evening he held a meeting to improve the "opportunities" of the former Sabbath, and to prepare for the next day. Days of humiliation frequently occurred. Twice a week he and his assistant took fourteen families between them for private catechising and conference. He spent an hour with each household, no other persons being present; and thus he occupied the afternoons of Monday and Tuesday—his assistant spending the morning of these days in the same employment. His correspondence shews what efforts he privately employed to recover men from a course of sin.

Long epistles of reproof, remonstrance, and appeal still exist, and we well remember once lighting on a large and closely-written letter among the Baxter MSS., dated "this Saturday night, at eleven o'clock, with an aching head and heart, and weeping eyes." We venture to supply an extract from a letter in that collection, addressed to his parishioners:—"The remembrance of the years of mercy which God vouchsafed me among you is pleasant to me; yea, it is the pleasantest part of all my life in the review. I do with pleasure think of Dudley, where I first preached occasionally, because of the great congregation of a willing, poor people that used there to crowd for instruction; and I do with pleasure remember the liberty which I had at Bridgenorth, by means of the great privileges of the place in times of prelatical violence. I do with much thankfulness remember the safety, quietness, and mercies of many sorts which I and some of you enjoyed at Coventry, while the nation round about was in war, and the merciful preservations which we had in those[192] unpleasing times. But the thought of my comforts among you is sweeter to me than all, because my successes were nowhere so great. It comforteth me to think from what a state of riotous profaneness and ignorance your Town is changed, and how commonly now the fear of God prevaileth, and how few, if any, there be now that oppose it; and that you can reproach the prayerless and contemners of godliness with the charge of singularity, as such were wont to do the godly. It comforteth me to remember how many upright souls are already departed in peace, and safely arrived at the desired rest, having fought a good fight and finished their course, and now enjoy the crown of righteousness. It comforteth me to remember how willingly you received the crown of righteousness. It comforteth me to remember how willingly you received the word of truth, how diligently the ablest of you were my helpers, how peaceably you all lived, without any schism, or any separated meeting, or any erroneous sect—unless two or three infidels and three or four drunkards might be called sectaries; and how all the attempts of Anabaptists and Quakers, &c., never, to my knowledge, prevailed to the perverting of any among you, though we gave them leave publicly to dispute for their cause. It rejoiceth me to think how, by your concord, and freedom from heresy and schism, living in love and unity, your example confuteth those that would now persuade the ignorant that there was nothing but schism and confusion in those times, and how much your leading example did to further piety and agreement in the towns and country round about, especially your common submission to catechising and personal conference and instruction, when almost all the town came willingly to my house, and the parish received Mr. Sergeant to theirs; and that in all things[193] you were specially exemplary in humility, and none of you ever evaded the ministry, or went beyond the duties of your place; as also how willingly many hundreds of you submitted to Church discipline, and in what comfortable order we did live. But it yet more comforteth me to remember what society I there had with humble, loving, peaceable, painful, faithful ministers of Christ; how lovingly and comfortably we met and conversed together; how readily, through the country, they consented first to the association and concord for the exercise of so much discipline as the Episcopal, Presbyterian, or Independents were agreed in; and afterwards all to join in personal conference with, and catechising or instructing of, all their people that consented. How free those ministers were from all heresy, schism, contention, and difference with one another, never engaging themselves to any faction or dividing party, but holding communion with all true Christians on the terms of primitive simplicity, purity, and love! And it comforteth me to hear of the patience and fidelity of those of them that still survive, and also of your own constancy, and that piety among you doth rather increase than decay."

Before dismissing Richard Baxter, there are three things respecting him which may be properly noticed here: the first, as an example of the popularity of his preaching; the second, as an instance of his independence and honesty in relation to Cromwell; and the third, as indicative of his charity and wisdom in promoting the interests of Christian union.

When Baxter preached that alarming and heart-stirring discourse at St. Lawrence Jewry which is entitled "Making light of Christ," the crowd was so great, that Lord Broghill, and the Earl of Suffolk, who brought the preacher to church in his coach, were[194] "fain to go home again, because they could not come within hearing," and the crowd shewed so little respect to persons, that the old Earl of Warwick had to sit in the lobby; and Baxter adds—"Mr. Vines (the incumbent) himself, was fain to get into the pulpit and sit behind me, and I stood between his legs." "The Sermon on Judgment," published in "Baxter's Works"—another characteristic specimen of his mode of exposition and appeal—was delivered at the request of Sir Christopher Pack, Lord Mayor of London, in the old Gothic cathedral of St. Paul;[187] and the preacher tells us he delivered it to the "greatest auditory he ever saw." We find him also in the pulpit of Westminster Abbey, addressing immense congregations.

Baxter once, and only once, preached before Cromwell, when he chose for his subject the divisions and distractions of Christendom. He shewed how mischievous a thing it was for politicians to encourage divisions for their own ends, and to fish in troubled waters, thus keeping the Church in a state of weakness, and pointed out, at the end of his discourse, the necessity and the means of union. The preacher heard that his plain speaking had displeased his audience; yet, to use his own expression, "they put up with it." But Cromwell sent for Baxter, and began a long and tedious speech respecting God's Providence in the change of governments, and how He had owned that change already, and what great things had been achieved in consequence of it both at home and abroad. Baxter,[195] wearied out of all patience, at length observed, that he took our ancient monarchy to be a great blessing, and craved pardon, as he asked his Highness in what way England had forfeited that blessing. Awakened into passion by this home thrust, Cromwell replied, that it was no forfeiture at all, but a "Divine dispensation;" and then he "let fly" at the Parliament, especially at four or five members who were Baxter's particular friends. A few days afterwards, the Protector addressed to the impatient preacher another slow and tedious speech upon liberty of conscience; and the preacher returned to the Protector a paper containing his own views upon the same subject. Baxter's paper would be to Cromwell as tiresome as Cromwell's talk could be to Baxter. Yet the whole of this remarkable intercourse between two remarkable men shewed the courage of the one, and the magnanimity of the other, and the perfect sincerity of both.

Baxter, at a later period, preached in Westminster Abbey, before the House of Commons, a sermon containing the following passage, which is as worthy of attention at the present day as when the impassioned Divine delivered it under the arched roof of that great national temple:—

"Men that differ about Bishops, ceremonies, and forms of prayer, may be all true Christians, and dear to one another and to Christ, if they be practically agreed in the life of godliness, and join in a holy, heavenly conversation. But if you agree in all your opinions and formalities, and yet were never sanctified by the truth, you do but agree to delude your souls, and neither of you will be saved for all your agreement."[188]

[196]

Another striking example of devotedness amongst the Presbyterian Clergy of the Commonwealth might be found at Maidstone. Thomas Wilson, the Vicar, was a stricter man, and of severer habits than Richard Baxter. He rose at two or three o'clock on Sunday mornings, called his family together at seven, and read the Scriptures and sang psalms till between eight and nine, "that all might be ready to attend public ordinances." Then he began the service at the parish church by "singing two staves of a psalm," and praying for a blessing, and afterwards he expounded the Scriptures for one hour, according to the "hour-glass in his desk." The same space of time was occupied in preaching. Having spent most of the interval between one service and another in singing hymns and in similar devotional exercises, he reappeared in his pulpit in the afternoon, and did as he had done in the morning, only that he expounded the New Testament instead of the Old. In the evening he called his neighbours together, and asked questions respecting the sermons they had heard, and, after a recapitulation of them, with additional singing, he concluded with prayer. We should have supposed that the religious services of the day were now concluded; but instead of that being the case we are informed that the minister went to his patron's house to supper, where there would be a hundred or more persons assembled, including the principal magistrates of the town, to join with their excellent Vicar "in the conclusion of the day"—when more remarks, questions, and prayers, were added to those already so abundantly offered. Not less than nine or ten hours were thus spent in acts of worship, so that the Sabbath could not be a season of rest; still, at least to Thomas Wilson, it was a day of light and gladness. Every Monday and Tuesday he held theological[197] conferences; every Thursday he preached a market-lecture; and every Friday he expounded the Scriptures at a private meeting. His biographer bears admiring testimony to the change which he wrought by these unremitting labours in the town of Maidstone, and informs us that one of the Judges on the circuit held up the place as a choice and unparalleled example. Those who on Sunday had been wont to frequent the public-house, and to play at cudgell, football, or cricket, and had mocked the godly burgesses and their wives on the way to church,—now attended sermon themselves, and had actually come to believe that it was a sin even to draw water, or to walk in the fields, or to pluck a rose on the Lord's Day.[189]

Pages might be filled with illustrations of like earnestness, with a similar lack of wisdom; but room remains for only one more example of the Presbyterian parish Minister of the Commonwealth. Thomas Hall spent "three apprenticeships at King's Norton—in addition to a lustre of years (rather more than four), at Mosely." His preface to "The Font Guarded," a publication belonging to the year 1651, compliments his parishioners after the following fashion:—"You have been a people very loving and free to the ministry. Many people deal by their ministers as carriers do by their horses, laying great burdens on them, and then hang bells about their necks; but ye have not so learned Christ. Your gratitude hath not been verbal but real, with your purse, as well as with your persons, you have promoted the Gospel for many years together in your town, to the refreshing of many hungry souls about you, in which number I acknowledge myself to have been one."

This individual affords an example of a common[198] trouble in those days, occasioned by the preaching of sectaries who, in the estimation of the Presbyterian pastor, had received no legitimate call to the office which they exercised. He complained, that such persons interrupted him in the midst of his discourses, and rudely challenged him to a public dispute. Yet he could congratulate his parishioners upon the unity of spirit which they enjoyed, although they formed a large body, and were many of them "knowing people." To his great joy, his flock conformed not to the canons of the Bishops but to the canon of Scripture; and there were but few families which had not submitted to examination before approaching the sacrament.

Many clergymen in those days had no fixed opinions on the question of church government, not believing that any particular ecclesiastical system is taught in the New Testament. Any one who held Bishops to be of Divine appointment, or who maintained the Divine right of Congregationalism, were of course chargeable with a dereliction of principle if they adopted the Presbyterian polity; but the case was far otherwise with men who did not believe that there is Divine authority for one kind of church order more than another. Such persons, too, as would have preferred, or would have been satisfied with moderate Episcopacy, and yet believed that Bishops and Presbyters were originally identical, might with good faith submit to the Presbyterianism of the Church of England. Of this class was Thomas Gataker the younger, a man eminently learned in an age of abundant erudition[190]—the friend and correspondent of Archbishop Ussher, and the author of Latin treatises filled with rare[199] and curious knowledge. First Lecturer at Lincoln's Inn, and then Rector of Rotherhithe, he manifested throughout the political and ecclesiastical changes of the times a singular pecuniary disinterestedness; and has, in a very peculiar book, written for his own vindication, given a full account of his preferments—thus throwing much light upon the incomes and upon the cares of Commonwealth clergymen.[191] At Rotherhithe he came to a dwelling-house much mangled and defaced by the late Incumbent's widow, through spite and spleen against some of the parishioners with whom her husband had been in prolonged contention. The wharf by the river opposite to the parsonage-house was ready to drop into ruins, for the repair of which—although two or three persons contributed something—the main expense came out of Gataker's own purse. The fabric of the church, which was supported with "chalky pillars," of such a bulk as filled up no small part of the edifice, being found faulty, and "threatening a fail if not a fall, unless speedily prevented;"—the minister had to contribute largely to remove these incumbrances, and to place strong timber columns in their place. A ship catching fire on the Thames, close by the Rectory, endangered the thatched roof, which the Rector had to exchange for tiles. He also relates in his copious narrative how, in the earlier period of his incumbency, he let out the whole tithe and glebe for one hundred pounds a year, subject to several deductions. At length ten pounds a quarter more was promised, to be assessed upon the wealthier sort of inhabitants—the poorer people being spared—and to be gathered by the churchwardens[200] for the time being, and by them quarterly paid. "Which yet," he says—for we had better leave him to tell the rest of his story in his own way—"the most part came short more or less every quarter, as by my receipts may appear. And I may truly and boldly avow it, that during all the time of mine abode in this place—what in maintenance of my family; in affording a competency to an able assistant for me in the work of the ministry, and to a young scholar to write out divers things for me; in enlarging my house, which was somewhat scanty, for the more convenient lodging of mine assistant and scribe, and a student, one or two, (such of our own country as had left the University, and were fitting themselves for the ministry)—or strangers that from foreign parts came over to learn our language and observe our method of teaching—and gaining a room of more capacity for the bestowing of my library; in reparation of my house and of the wharf before it; in furnishing myself with books; in relief to the poor (wherein I shall spare to speak what I added voluntarily in a constant course unto that I was assessed); in these and the like put together, with what went to the higher powers—I spent, one year with another, all that ever I received in right of my rectory, as by proof sufficient I could make to appear."[192]

[201]

Dr. John Gauden—famous as the reputed author of "Icon Basilike"—is also well known as a Royalist and an Episcopalian. He has been made notorious by the charge brought against him of ambition and covetousness; for having eagerly sought preferment; for being dissatisfied with his first bishopric after the Restoration; and for saying "Exeter had a high rack but a low manger."[193] Yet Gauden, at first, was as much a Puritan as a Royalist; he preached "against pictures, images, and other superstitions of Popery," in a sermon before the Long Parliament, for which he was presented with a silver tankard, and in the following year with the Deanery of Bocking. Nominated a member of the Westminster Assembly, he was superseded by the Parliament who chose Thomas Goodwin in preference to him. Gauden is said to have taken the Covenant, a report which he denied; but his name is found in the Presbyterian classis of Hinckford, in Essex. His friendly feeling towards the Puritan party appears from his conduct at the Savoy Conference, after the Restoration. "He was our most constant helper," says Baxter, "and how bitter soever his pen might be, he was the only moderator of all the bishops, except our Bishop Reignolds;" he had "a calm, fluent, rhetorical tongue, and if all had been of his mind, we had been[202] reconciled."[194] Disposed to conciliation, though a known Royalist, and conforming in some degree to Presbyterianism, Gauden was allowed, like others of that class, to continue his public ministrations, and retain his preferment. In 1658 he officiated publicly at the funeral of Robert Rich—heir to the earldom of Warwick, and husband of Cromwell's daughter Frances.[195]

Gauden was, at least virtually, a Presbyterian conformist. Dr. Thomas Fuller became one avowedly; openly declaring his preference for Episcopacy, he at the same time, with equal openness, submitted to Presbyterian arrangements. "Not to dissemble," he says, "in the sight of God and man, I do ingenuously protest that I affect the Episcopal government (as it was constituted in itself, abating some corruptions which time hath contracted) best of any other, as conceiving it most consonant to the word of God, and practice of the primitive Church." "But I know that religion and learning hath flourished under the Presbyterian government in France, Germany, the Low Countries. I know many worthy champions of the truth, bred and brought up under the same. I know the most learned and moderate English Divines (though Episcopal in their callings and judgments) have allowed the Reformed Churches under the discipline, for sound and perfect in all essentials necessary to salvation. If therefore denied my first desire, to live under that Church government I best affected, I will contentedly conform to the Presbyterian government, and endeavour to deport[203] myself quietly and comfortably under the same." Fuller's fortunes were somewhat varied. For a little while—in the year 1647—he preached at St. Clement's, Eastcheap, and at St. Bride's, Fleet Street. The next year he was silenced. "It hath been," said he—addressing Sir John Danvers, in whose house he abode awhile—"the pleasure of the present authority, to whose commands I humbly submit, to make me mute, forbidding me, till further order, the exercise of my public preaching; wherefore I am fain to employ my fingers in writing, to make the best signs I can, thereby to express, as my desire to the general good, so my particular gratitude to your honour."[196] About the year 1649 he received by presentation from the Earl of Carlisle the perpetual curacy of Waltham Abbey, "wherein as many pleasant hills and prospects are as any place in England doth afford." Under the shadow of the Norman church, which Fuller describes as "rather large than neat, firm than fair;" he wrote incomparable books, and found within its walls on Sundays the "best commendation of a church," even "a great and attentive congregation." Historical associations were connected with the parish, most grateful to this Incumbent. It was there one night, at Mr. Cressy's home, that Cranmer had supped with Henry the Eighth, on his way home from a royal progress, and had suggested to the monarch—wearied with the dilatoriness of the Papal Court—a more summary method of getting rid of Queen Catherine. It was there, too, that John Foxe had compiled his "Acts and Monuments." And it was there, also, that Bishop Hall had, a few years[204] before, "climbed the pulpit week by week," to repeat, memoriter, every word he had written of his sermons;—some of which included portions of his popular "Contemplations," which were first published during his ministry at Waltham. Whilst in that parish, Fuller completed his "Pisgah Sight," and his "Abel Redivivus;" and in the same place there occurred the following well-known incident:—Having to appear before the Triers, he said to John Howe, "You may observe, sir, that I am a somewhat corpulent man, and I am to go through a very strait passage; I beg you would be so good as to give me a shove, and help me through." When asked by the Commissioners "whether he had ever had any experience of a work of grace on his heart," Fuller gave the memorable reply—"that he could appeal to the Searcher of hearts, that he made a conscience of his very thoughts."[197] In the year 1652 he was restored to the Eastcheap Lectureship, which he held in connexion with the Waltham curacy. In the year 1658 he obtained the rectory of Crawford, and died in 1661.

A characteristic specimen of the quiet parish Presbyter (not Priest) who was more given to works of mercy than to controversial argument, yet who did all his good deeds after a quaint Puritan pattern, is to be seen in what is related of the life of Abraham Colfe, Vicar of Lewisham. He looked after the education of boys; and founded a parish school, with exhibitions for the universities—and a room for a library—and endowments for the purchase of Bibles and other books. He built almshouses for godly people, who could repeat[205] the Creed and the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments. He gave away bread to the poor, and money for the marriage of one or two maidservants every year. He paid the clerk for taking care of the boys' Bibles, and for keeping in order the church clock, and he also instituted a sermon for the fifth of November. This record of his benefactions will indicate what sort of man was Abraham Colfe; and further glimpses of his character—not a peculiar one in those days—are caught in his Will, from which we may gather what were his likes and dislikes: he hated gamesters, and frequenters of alehouses, and all who were given to "wanton dalliances," or who lavished unnecessary expenses in following "vain, gaudy fashions of apparel;" he disapproved of all who wore "long, curled, or ruffin-like hair"—strangely associating such persons with the profane and heretical. Moreover, in reading Latin or Greek authors, this same Kentish Incumbent approved of pointing out the errors and vices which there appeared—and such as drew the young to Popish superstition, Epicurean licentiousness, or downright Atheism, instead of drawing them to godliness and a holy life. Nor would he let boys wear "long, curled, frizzled or powdered hair"—but enjoined upon them the importance of cutting it short, and of wearing it in such a manner as that their foreheads should be seen, "and no part of it be allowed to grow longer than one inch below the lowest tips of their ears."[198]

Some of the clergy in those times were very flexible. The district of Craven, in Yorkshire, is very remarkable for the examples of this description which it afforded. As in the sixteenth century—when the incumbents of that beautiful part of England gently bowed to all ecclesias[206]tical changes, from the enactment of the Six Articles to the Act of Uniformity of Queen Elizabeth—so was it with their successors in the seventeenth century. Not a name is contributed from that quarter to the list of either Walker or Calamy. Surplice or Genevan cloak, Liturgy or Directory, Episcopacy or Presbyterianism, a King or a Commonwealth—all came alike to the accommodating Rectors and Vicars of that charming locality.[199] Others of a similar temper were found amidst less beautiful scenery.

CHAPTER IX.

As Congregational Churches were in theory select Societies, they shewed great care in the admission of members; and as they believed that all pastoral authority under Christ was communicated not through apostolical succession in the ministry itself, but through the community which invited some Christian teacher to preside over it, the members, at least in some cases, themselves performed the service of ordination. Met together in the name of their Divine Lord, they solemnly elected their Bishop by holding up their hands, and then by fasting and prayer they appointed him to his work. They also made a detailed confession of their faith in the doctrines of Christianity—the chosen minister also on his part doing the same—after which the representatives of other and neighbouring Churches who were present, and who were affectionately welcomed on the occasion, united in approving what had been done, and in giving the right hand of fellowship to the assembled brethren and to their new spiritual overseer.[208][200]

There were officers in these societies of a description not found in Congregational Churches of the present day. Frequent mention is made in Nonconformists' records of persons called Teachers—who appear to have assisted the pastor in his pulpit labours and in his spiritual oversight of the flock, without being exactly on a level with him in his position as President of the community. Mention also is made of Ruling Elders, who must have resembled the Presbyterian order so denominated, and who were distinguished from Preaching Elders by the circumstance of their not being public teachers, and of their not administering the Sacraments. Deacons were chosen in the same manner as were Bishops; and the exercise of gifts, in the way of occasional exhortation by the former, received encouragement from the latter; one of whom quaintly said to his people that if this exercise of prophesying were not maintained, they would be justly regarded by other Churches as in a state of decline, and the gifts of the Spirit bestowed upon them "would dry up and prove unprofitable." Deaconesses or widows also occupied a permanent official position in these communities, and accounts exist of meetings assembled for choosing Christian helpers of that kind.

The Churches sought advice of each other, and when important religious questions agitated the public mind they held convocations for the interchange of opinion and for the expression of a common judgment. For example:—that phase of the millenarian controversy which related to the opinions of the Fifth Monarchists, and which exercised a strange fascination over minds of a[209] particular cast, secured the greatest attention, and excited extraordinary interest.[201]

When cases of scandal occurred, they were subjected to careful investigation. The accused party was summoned to appear before his fellow-members; the Elders, after giving him notice, read to him the charges which were brought against him; and upon his failing to offer a satisfactory explanation, the Church unanimously voted that, according to Scripture, he should be accounted a heathen man and a publican.[202]

To comprehend clearly the relation in which Congregational pastors and their flocks stood to the civil government of the country, it is necessary to study a number of minute and—to the majority of readers—unimportant, if not uninteresting particulars. Such pastors were also Rectors, Vicars, City lecturers, and Preachers in Cathedrals. They are described in municipal records as "town preachers," and as "our ministers." In some cases there were four persons so united—two of them being Presbyterians, and the other two Independents. Assistance was sought from Government for paying these public instructors, and a salary of one hundred pounds per annum was in some cases voted out of the impropriation funds. Applications were occasionally made for Acts of Parliament to authorize the levying of contributions for the support of such ministers, and for the repair of their churches. When indeed attempts were made at Yarmouth to impose rates upon the town for these purposes, the Congregational pastors formally protested against it, as contrary to the Gospel, and as in[210]jurious to the Church; the members desiring that none of the brethren "might have any hand in the acting of the same." That this resolution however only referred to the rating as an objectionable mode of obtaining assistance, and not to the appropriation of existing revenues for religious purposes, is apparent from the circumstance, that one of the ministers of that very Church was at the time receiving a salary from a source of the latter kind. In numerous cases no scruple existed with regard to the sustenance derived from tithes; and the extinction of this impost fell under the strong condemnation of the same persons who deprecated the collection of municipal rates for the support of the ministry.[203]

Congregational city lecturers preached before civic assemblies at feasts and fasts and thanksgivings; and it is perhaps worth while to observe in passing how careful the Puritans and even the Independents were to maintain, on such occasions, a considerable measure of ancient pomp: strict injunctions being given at Norwich, when the Corporation went to public worship, that the aldermen should "be in their scarlet," and that the livery should "attend upon the sword in gowns and tippets." Old formalities, savouring of superstition, were, of course, carefully dropped, and it was ordered, for instance, in the city just mentioned, that on guild-day there should be neither any beating of drums or sounding of trumpets—nor any snap-dragon, or fellows dressed up in fools' coats and[211] caps—nor any standard carried with the George thereon—nor any hanging of tapestry or pictures in the streets. But with these prohibitions, allowance was given for the firing of guns; and the Corporation wended its way in solemn state down London-lane to the Dutch Church, where the Independent city lecturer preached to the municipal magnates, clad in red cloaks, with embroidered scarfs, and a full complement of lace collar—as may be seen in their portraits, still hanging in the Guildhall Council Chamber. At Yarmouth, also, the members of the Corporation marched in state to the Congregational place of worship, and were liable to a shilling fine, if at the service they neglected to wear their gowns.

The instances here afforded of the relation then existing between Church and State refer exclusively to the position occupied by individual ministers, through their occupancy of certain public ecclesiastical offices. As Rectors, Vicars, Lecturers, and Town preachers, they had a political status which did not and could not pertain to them as Bishops of Congregational communities. It was in their parish, or public relation, not in their merely pastoral office—which sometimes bore a very private character—that clerical Independents obtained recognition from the political authorities of the land.

Churches frequently met in private houses, although the pastors were parochial incumbents. Over their proceedings in that capacity the secular power, according to the principles of the Protectorate government, could exercise no control so long as the members conducted themselves like other loyal citizens. The theory evidently was, that in purely spiritual affairs these churches were not subject to State interference, because in their[212] Congregational capacity they did not receive State support.[204]

But a difficulty arose. A Congregational pastor, holding an incumbency, might be regarded by some of his parishioners, who did not adopt his views, as bound to administer the sacraments to them, as well as to the members of the select community which he had chosen to organize. If he refused to do what they demanded, they would be likely to assert what they considered to be their legal rights. A case of this very kind was submitted to Justice Wyndham whilst he was conducting the Derby assizes, in the year 1658. Certain inhabitants in the parish of Aston-upon-Trent complained that their minister, Thomas Palmer,[205] would not administer the Holy Sacrament. He at once admitted the fact, and then there ensued a conversation between the Judge and the accused, which the latter has happened to leave upon record. And it is easy to give some colouring and life to the whole of this singular transaction—which the disinterment of an old paper has brought to our knowledge—[213]if we exercise our imagination a little so as to paint his lordship in scarlet and ermine, occupying an ancient kind of judicial chair, ornamented with the arms of the Commonwealth—and a number of counsellors, in full costume, arranged before him—the jury sitting in their box—with a large attendance of people, in cloth cloaks, or leather jerkins, crowding the space available for spectators, when the following colloquy took place:—

Judge. "But do you not know that you are bound by the law to administer the sacraments to your parishioners?"

Palmer. "No, my Lord. I know no such law in force compelling me to administer the holy sacraments to my parishioners; neither are ministers now enjoined any such thing when inducted into any living. Yet, I humbly suppose if any such law were still unrepealed, it ought to be repealed, when so much against the law of Jesus Christ."

Judge. "Oh, you will teach Parliaments, &c. But if you do not know there is such a law in force you shall know it. Clerk, read the statute of the 1st of Edward VI., &c. What say you to this?"

Palmer. "My Lord, I will not dispute the law read, but humbly pray your Lordship to inform me whether ignorant, profane, and scandalous persons be included in the statute?"

Judge. "No."

Palmer. "Then I may deny to administer to such."

Judge. "What have you to do to exercise an arbitrary power over other men's consciences? Let a man examine himself, &c."

Palmer. "No, my Lord, I have no such sole power in me as a minister, but I conceive it is in the Church, and that is the reason I have not administered these holy[214] ordinances, as not having visible godly people to join with me in approving who are fit and who are not fit."

Judge. "But why did you not give the people liberty to get another to administer the sacrament to them, and when you promised it?"

Palmer. "My promise and their desire was (in words) with limitation of a godly orthodox Divine. But my parishioners nominated and offered to me such old, malignant ministers, formerly of the King's party, as I could not approve of, and I would not approve of; and this sorely displeased."

Judge. "You, and such as you are, are the causes of the divisions of the nation. But I say if I be upon my journey, and coming to an inn, if the innkeeper refuse to lodge me I have my action against him, and I know not but the like will hold in this case."

Houlden (parishioner). "But, my Lord, what must we do?"

Judge. "I know not; but if you will bring it before us we will do you right."

The Judge advised the complainants to withhold the tithes, because the incumbent did not administer the sacrament, and they immediately entered into a combination for that purpose.[206]

[215]

The facts now related are only such as were likely to occur under a system intended to unite two things so perfectly incompatible as the independent position of a Congregational minister and his acceptance of a parochial cure. What were considered as rights of conscience on the one hand, necessarily came into collision with what were considered on the other hand as rights of law.[207]

Churches in some instances consisted of more than one congregation. For a considerable period the Independents of Norwich and Yarmouth formed a single community; the members travelling from one place to the other to celebrate the Lord's Supper, although they had distinct religious services on other occasions in their[216] respective localities. It frequently happened that old Churches were requested to assist in the formation of new ones. Indeed, they sprung one out of another, like the branches of a banyan tree, covering whole districts with their shadow and their fruit. This happened especially in Norfolk and Suffolk; the Church records in those counties containing numerous passages illustrative of the culture of such off-shoots. But it may be observed, that this multiplication of fellowships, which was the result of zeal, also appears to have been under the control of wisdom; a reverential regard being paid to the customs of primitive Christianity. The members had a salutary dread of schism; they did not delight in needless separation, but kept together as long as they could, and were exceedingly unwilling to break their mutual bonds, and only entered into new organizations when the increase of their numbers, or some local circumstances, rendered the step unquestionably desirable. On the same principle of promoting the greatest good, existing communities were, under peculiar circumstances, dissolved, that the elements might enter into more effective combinations.[208]

In London and the suburbs Independent ministers holding parish preferments formed a small minority. Joseph Caryl, a grave-looking man, well-known now as the author of an "Exposition of the Book of Job," and[217] well-known then as the principal Congregational pastor within the city walls, occupied the Rectory of St. Mary Magnus. His position and influence may be inferred from his having been sent to attend upon Charles I., at Holdenby, and also to assist in the treaty of Newport, from his accompanying Oliver Cromwell in his expedition to Scotland, and from his afterwards becoming one of the ministerial triers under the Protectorate. A friend, who knew him well, observed, that his labours were great, and his studies incessant; and that his sincerity, faith, zeal, and wisdom, imparted fragrancy to his name amongst the Churches and servants of Jesus Christ.

Philip Nye, who has been repeatedly mentioned in these volumes, held, together with the living of Acton, the rectory of St. Bartholomew by the Exchange; and William Greenhill, who wrote a volume on the prophecy of Ezekiel, was incumbent of the village of Stepney. He had been chaplain to the King's children—the Dukes of York and Gloucester, and the Lady Henrietta Maria—and was, in this respect, like Philip Nye, one of the members of the Westminster Assembly. His faithfulness as a preacher, his rebukes of prevalent iniquity, and above all his intense appeals to the citizens of London respecting their immoralities, remind us of Chrysostom; not, however, as to his golden eloquence, but as it regards his faithful ministrations at Antioch and Constantinople. "Let our great city and citizens look to it," exclaims Greenhill, "there is scum in the city, and not a little. Is it gone out or boiled in? Was not the sword lately at your gates? Was there not yesterday great sickliness within your walls? Is not trading diminished? Have there not been strange murders amongst you? Have not many sad fires been kindled, broke out, and consumed your habitations? Was there not a plot, which[218] hath cost some their lives, to fire your city? God hath been warning you by these judiciary dispensations, and are you bettered by them? Have all you have seen, feared, or felt, caused your scum to depart from you? If so, it is well; well will it be with you, well with your city, and well with your undertakings, and well with your posterity; but if it be boiled in, and you are the worse for all the boiling judgments and providences you have been in and under, know that some dreadful calamity, if not destruction itself, hastens, and will certainly take hold of you and your city, without speedy repentance."[209]

Matthew Mead, who, after the death of Jeremiah Burroughs, became associated with Greenhill in the parish of Stepney as morning Lecturer, may be numbered amongst the Independent clergymen in the neighbourhood of London. He was distinguished by a large-hearted catholicity, which induced him to reject any conditions of ecclesiastical fellowship beyond such as consist in the maintenance of a pure and holy life. "He took little pleasure," as we are informed by his congenial friend, John Howe, "in embroiling himself or his hearers in needless and fruitless controversies. The great, substantial doctrines of the Gospel were his principal study and delight; such as lay nearest the vitals and heart of religion and godliness." The subjects which he insisted upon in the course of his ministry indicated this to be his spirit and design. Being constantly moderate and unexceptionably sound he continued ever remote from rigorous and indefensible extremities, and drove at his mark without diversion;[219] not so much aiming to proselyte souls to a party as to win his fellow-men to the service of Christ.[210]

In the provinces perhaps there might be a much larger proportion of Independent Rectors, Vicars, and Lecturers than there was in London, since nothing is clearer than the fact of a general increase of Independency during the Protectorate.

William Bridge filled the office of town lecturer at Yarmouth, and, whilst he was absent from home during the sittings of the Westminster Assembly, the Corporation allowed him fifty pounds a year. At the same time he continued pastor of the Congregational Church in the Norfolk sea-port; frequently returning to his charge, and constantly attending to their affairs. We also find him preaching in the Metropolis and its neighbourhood, and also before the House of Commons. So acceptable were his services, that the Council of State in November, 1649, unanimously elected him to be their chaplain, promising two hundred pounds per annum for his discharge of the duties of the office. The prospect of a doubled salary and of enlarged influence would have been a strong temptation to a man of mercenary or ambitious views; but Bridge's only question seems to have been how he could best accomplish his Divine Master's will.[220] He consulted his congregation upon the subject, and they, with a disinterestedness akin to his own, recommended him to confer with the Council of State, and then to act as the finger of Providence might seem to direct. The conference ended in his declining the chaplainship; a decision which bound him still closer than ever to the hearts of his people.

John Flavel, the author of "Spiritual Husbandry," and Joseph Alleine, the author of "The Alarm to the Unconverted," were so moderately Presbyterian in their views, and were, from the circumstances in which they were placed, so unable to carry out a Presbyterian form of Church polity, that in point of fact they may be reckoned as Congregationalists. But we must pass by these to notice particularly another person, superior in intellect and learning to these excellent men, and one who, though he cannot be numbered with rigid Congregationalists any more than they, certainly adopted Congregational opinions.

John Howe was a man of such comprehensive mind, and of such all-embracing affection, that he instinctively shrank from every form of ecclesiastical division except such as is required by Christian conscientiousness. He held schism in the utmost abhorrence, and panted for the realization of the broadest possible union; and whilst parish minister of Torrington, in Devonshire, he promoted meetings with neighbouring pastors for mutual edification and fellowship, which formed a miniature of that more extensive scheme which Baxter was, throughout his life, toiling in vain to carry into execution. In the little town just mentioned "some of the happiest years of his life were spent; here his labours were rendered signally useful, and here he preached those discourses, the substance of which was afterwards[221] embodied in two of his most useful and impressive treatises: his 'Delighting in God,' and his 'Blessedness of the Righteous.' Though when he first went to Great Torrington he could have been little more than twenty-four years of age, his persuasive style of preaching, and his still more persuasive example, soon secured him the esteem and affection of his people. A striking proof of his influence over them, is afforded in the fact (incidentally mentioned in one of the letters extracted from the Baxter MSS.) that though, at his first coming to Torrington, he found the Church divided into two parties, he succeeded, 'through God's blessing on his endeavours,' in restoring union.[211]

Howe came up from Torrington to London in the winter of 1656, and went to hear a certain preacher at Whitehall, on the Sunday before the day on which he intended to return home. His noble figure and expressive face struck the Protector, who already had Milton for a secretary, and Hale for a judge, and he wished to listen to the proclamation of the Gospel from a young man of such remarkable promise. After having heard a sermon from Howe, Cromwell would not allow of his returning to his country cure, but insisted upon his becoming a court chaplain, and undertook to provide a suitable minister for the Church which he had left in Devonshire. Howe unwillingly acceded to the request, and remained in office until after the Protector's death. It will throw light upon the relative position of Independents and Episcopalians at that time; upon the intimacies existing amongst them, and the friendly services sometimes performed by the one for the other; as well as serve to illustrate the liberality of[222] Cromwell towards those who differed from him, if we may be allowed to mention the following circumstance:—Seth Ward, afterwards Bishop of Exeter, was candidate for the principalship of Jesus College, at Oxford. His opponent was Francis Howel, who had obtained from his Highness a promise of the appointment. Ward, through the help of his friend the chaplain, secured an audience with the Protector, being commended to him by the same friend as a man of extraordinary learning and worth. Cromwell, embarrassed by his promise to Howel, called Howe aside, and further consulted him respecting the merit of his University companion. The issue was, that he told Ward, on such a recommendation as he had received, he was disposed to shew him some token of regard, at the same time pleasantly asking what he thought the principalship of Jesus College might be worth. On being informed respecting the amount of the income, he promised he would allow him annually just that sum. As this incident illustrates the influence of the chaplain with the Protector, the regard of the Protector for the chaplain, and the liberality of both towards one of a different "denomination," another incident may also fittingly be introduced, to shew the faithful preaching which there was at Whitehall, and how it was regarded by the "magnanimous usurper," even when it crossed his own prejudices. Cromwell believed that spiritually-minded men in answer to prayer received Divine intimations, indicating their requests to be according to the Divine will, and also testifying how they were about to be fulfilled. This "particular faith in prayer," as it was termed, extensively prevailed amongst the people who formed Cromwell's Court, and received much encouragement from what was taught them in the Whitehall pulpit. John Howe, who saw[223] plainly that such an idea opened the door to fanatical excesses, determined to expose the error, and therefore delivered a calm and thoughtful discourse upon its fallacy and mischief. Cromwell's brow darkened, and he looked uneasy. A person of distinction came up to the preacher on leaving the pulpit, and enquired whether he knew what he had done. "My duty," replied Howe, "and I can trust the issue with God." He informed Calamy that he observed Cromwell was cooler in his behaviour afterwards than he had been before, and that he sometimes seemed as if he wished to speak on the subject, but never did. The courage on the one side; with the annoyance felt, and yet the forbearance manifested on the other; the prevalence of enthusiasm at Whitehall; and the checks which it received from men commonly identified with its upholders, are conspicuously demonstrated in this incident, and they reveal in a very striking way the mingled good and evil of those eventful days.

The correspondence of Howe at that time with Richard Baxter, and the replies of the Catholic Presbyterian to the Catholic Independent place in a clear light the views which they entertained with regard to union. Baxter, in one of his letters written in a suspicious temper, wished to awaken Howe's jealousy to a careful but very secret and silent observation of the "infidels and Papists, who were very high and busy under several garbs, especially of Seekers, Vanists, Behmenists;" in the same letter he praised the Lord Protector as a man of a Catholic spirit, and "desirous of the unity and peace of all the servants of Christ." The writer also expressed his own wish, that the ruler of England would take some healing principles into consideration and expound them to one or two leading Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, Erastians, and Anabaptists. Baxter thus in[224]dicated where he himself thought of drawing the line of comprehension, and with great significance (and it shews liberality and prudence combined), added, by way of postscript, "I pray you persuade men not to despise those they call Royalists and Episcopalians, either because they are now under them, or because of contrariety of worldly interests, for these signify less than carnal hearts imagine, and who knows what a day (and a righteous God) may bring forth." Howe agreed with Baxter's object in the main. But as to means, he was more prudent, and thought it best to bring Presbyterians and Congregationalists together before proceeding any further. Philip Nye is referred to in the correspondence by Howe, as a person of so much importance "that he would either be consulted with, or, at least, would in some way hear of (the proposal), and if he disliked, hinder it;" and Nye's views of Christian fellowship appear to have been much narrower than those of either Howe or Baxter. The designs and efforts of the two last named individuals came to nothing. Ripeness could not be found in court or country, in this party or in that, for any such comprehension as Baxter clearly prefigured in his mind, and Howe, with less definiteness of view, but with equal if not greater catholicity of affection, most ardently and anxiously desired. To attempt an organic union of divers sects is but a Utopian dream. Even to attempt plans of co-operation, correspondence, and mutual harmony before sympathy of feeling, and a close attraction of hearts has been engendered in the Church of Christ, is unwise and useless; but it is not Quixotic to endeavour to establish and increase friendly intercourse and brotherly interchanges of sentiment between those who divide our Protestant Christendom—to draw towards one another in kindly fellowship while mutually conceding[225] the full rights of conscience—and to hope that a day will come when, rising above ancient prejudices and traditional walls of separation, sects and parties who share in the profession of a common faith, may enjoy in this world full intercommunion of instruction and of worship.

Following for a moment the fortunes of Independency beyond the bounds of England, we remark that Congregationalism did not take root in Scotland. Robert Browne travelled thither in the year 1584, and dwelt in lodgings by the Canongate. He inveighed against the Reformed Church of Scotland and the Presbyterian ministers of Edinburgh; it is said not without protection and encouragement from the Court. John Penry, too, crossed the Tweed; and King James afterwards complained that such men having "sown their popple," certain brain-sick and heady preachers caught their spirit. Yet up to the period of the civil wars no traces of Independency can be found amongst the Scotch. A person named Orthro Ferrendail, an Irishman, preached in a private house, in the city of Aberdeen, in the year 1642, "at night, within closed doors," what was curiously stigmatized as "nocturnal doctrine or Brownism." Congregational principles were adopted by only a few individuals, yet this created no small stir amongst the Presbyterians. The General Assembly of the year 1647 prohibited the reading of Independent and Baptist books, and the harbouring of people who were infected with their errors; and further they instigated the magistrates of the country to assist ministers in resisting all schismatical innovations. Independent officers and soldiers belonging to the English army could not so easily be dismissed or silenced, and one of the military chaplains wrote a little book on Independency, describing it as "A Little Stone out of the Mountain." To this quaint publication an[226] answer was returned by a theological professor, bearing a title of corresponding quaintness, "A Little Stone pretended to be out of the Mountain, tried and found to be a Counterfeit." The English Commissioners pleaded with the General Assembly on behalf of toleration and of Congregational discipline, but the plea met with an indignant reply. Yet a few ministers, including Patrick Gillespie,[212] were favourable to the condemned tenets, and Independent Divines are mentioned as discharging their ministry within the parishes of Kilbride, in Lanarkshire, and of Kirkintilloch, in the county of Dumbarton. Persecution appeared in some quarters, and sectaries were excommunicated, imprisoned, and hunted from place to place so that their lives were embittered. These scanty facts indicate at least that Congregationalism found no congenial soil in regions north of the border.[213]

The Brownists are reported to have visited Ireland, with some success. Dr. Owen, when in Dublin, lamented the ignorance of religion prevalent in that city, but found "a numerous multitude of as thirsty a people after the Gospel" as he had ever met with.[214] Certain distinguished Independents went over after the completion of Cromwell's conquests, of whom one was Dr. Samuel Winter, appointed to the provostship of Trinity College. Dr. Thomas Harrison accompanied Henry Cromwell, and preached for some years in Christ Church,[227] Dublin. Samuel Mather, a member of the well-known Mather family, also an Independent, became a minister in Ireland; and being a man of singular moderation, when commissioned by the Lord Deputy to displace the Episcopal clergy, he declined the office, on the ground that he had come to Ireland to preach the Gospel, not to hinder others from doing so. Stephen Charnock also spent some time in the island. John Rogers, a Dublin pastor in 1651, may be added to the list, for he thus expresses his ecclesiastical opinions:—"Concerning the Church of Christ, I know that it is one body universal and catholic, and that it is of all saints, past, present, and to come, invisible and visible, yea spiritual and formal. But this I also believe, that God hath left rule in His word for particular congregations here upon earth, as the visible to make up His one entire and universal body."[215] John Murcot, an extraordinary young man, who occupied one of the Dublin pulpits, was another Congregational preacher.[216] Churches of this denomination existed in Youghall, Carrickfergus, Limerick, Tredagh, and other Irish towns.[217] Most of the Irish Independents accepted State support, but a few were averse to maintenance by tithes. The difference between the latter and their brethren is mentioned by the[228] Lord Deputy, who also alludes rather sarcastically to the mutual jealousies of Independents and Anabaptists.[218]

Before quitting the subject of the connexion between Independents and the Commonwealth establishment, it is interesting to notice that whilst the cathedrals and principal churches in England were in the hands of the Presbyterians, a few of those magnificent edifices were occupied by them in common with the Congregationalists. This was the case with Exeter Cathedral, the edifice being divided into two parts by a brick wall, as are some of the large churches in Scotland and on the continent at the present day. The choir called "East Peter's" was used by the Presbyterians. Under the vaulted roof—upon which, among the fruits and tendrils of the filbert and the vine, the Presbyterian worshipper might have seen a coronation of the Virgin, and angels censing the mother and child—Robert Atkins, their minister, esteemed one of the best preachers in that part of England, fulfilled the ministerial office with eminent popularity and success. At the same time the exquisitely-stained glass of the east perpendicular window—all radiant with the glory of Roman Catholic saints—shed on him its tinted lights while he stood in the pulpit, in his Genevan gown, with the hour-glass at his side. The nave called "West Peter's" was occupied by a congregation of Independents, who under similarly incongruous circumstances entered the gorgeous porch—decorated with crowds of images—to listen to the ministry, and to follow the devotions of their pastor, Lewis Stukely. There he preached and prayed, while the beautiful minstrels' gallery—with its array of winged[229] angels, having citterns, trumpets, guitars, and all manner of instruments of music—retained its position untouched, and preserved its adornments unharmed. Wells Cathedral—still shewing on its proud front the three hundred magnificent sculptured figures, which form a Bible in stone—was used by the Presbyterian, Dr. Cornelius Burgess; but it was ordered that the inhabitants of St. Cuthbert's parish, forming, it may be presumed, an Independent congregation, should make use of it also as their place of worship.[219]

The noble church of the Holy Trinity at Hull was also used jointly by Presbyterians and Independents, as well as the less noble, but scarcely less interesting church of St. Nicholas, in the town of Great Yarmouth.[220]

CHAPTER X.

Besides the Presbyterians and Independents, there were ministers of another persuasion, who accepted preferment in the Church of England under the Commonwealth.

The existence of the Baptists may be traced back to an early period. One of this denomination, a yeoman of the guard at Windsor, suffered martyrdom under Queen Mary.[221] In the time of Elizabeth, the Antipædobaptists were complained of by Bishop Jewel "as a large and inauspicious crop." A Church of that order appears to have existed at Ely, in the year 1573. Flemish Baptists took refuge in this country about the same time; and another English congregation, apparently of Antipædobaptist principles, was discovered in 1586; a third, in 1588, is described as meeting in the fields for prayer and exposition of Scripture. It is said that they dined together, and collected money to pay for their refreshments, giving the surplus to their brethren in bonds. No forms were used. A liturgy seemed to them stinted prayer—a mere babbling in the Lord's sight. They[231] denied the authority of the Queen in ecclesiastical matters, and counted it unlawful to attend the parish church. They owned no necessity to wait for reform by the magistrates, saying, wherever stones were ready, they ought to build with them at once, as the apostles did. It is distinctly stated that these people held it unlawful to baptize children.[222] In the year 1589, it was affirmed that there were several Anabaptistical conventicles in London and other places.[223] A prisoner named Maydstone, holding Baptist opinions, is mentioned in 1597 as under sentence of death in Norwich gaol. The Baptists were foremost in the advocacy of religious freedom, and perhaps to one of them, Leonard Busher, citizen of London, belongs the honour of presenting in this country the first distinct and broad plea for liberty of conscience. It is dated 1614, and is prefaced by an epistle to the Presbyterian reader; and a very remarkable epistle it is, deserving a renown which it has never acquired. The writer says, he is sure that the country will be distracted with oppression and persecution until liberty of conscience be allowed. His plea is no new doctrine, but as old as the Word of God. It is the birthright of peaceful people, denied by the subjects of popes, bishops, and selfish priests, a blessing for the want of which the Christian part of the universe hath suffered "a continual agony and earthquake." Appealing to King James, Busher says, "that Jews, Christians, and monks are tolerated in Constantinople," and asks, "If this be so, how much more ought Christians to tolerate Christians?" "It is not only unmerciful, but unnatural and abominable; yea, monstrous, for one[232] Christian to vex and destroy another for difference and questions of religion." "Wherefore," he goes on to say, "in all humility and Christian modesty, I do affirm, that through the unlawful weed-hook of persecution which your predecessors have used, and by your Majesty and Parliament is still continued, there is such a quantity of wheat plucked up, and such a multitude of tares left behind, that the wheat which remains cannot yet appear in any right visible congregation." Boldly, and in the broadest way, this early apostle of liberty condemns all persecution whatsoever, not excepting even persecutions carried on against Papists; and he contends that by persecuting them we Protestants encourage them to persecute us. People tainted with treason are to be denied the liberty of congregating together, but no others. And further, this writer demands, "That it be lawful for every person or persons, yea, Jews and Papists, to write, dispute, confer and reason, print and publish any matter touching religion, either for or against whomsoever."[224]

Other publications of the same character were written by members of the same communion, and in 1620 the Baptists issued a humble supplication, abounding in references to the Fathers and to ecclesiastical history.

In the Yarmouth Corporation Records there is a letter to the Lord Chief Justice of England, written by the Bailiffs in the year 1624, respecting the Baptists in that town: "Right honourable, our duties in all humble wise remembered. We received certain letters, signed by your lordship, but without either date or place, from whence, reproving our predecessors, as having no care in the execution of a warrant made to them by your lordship[233] and Justice Dodridge (upon a certificate from the Lord Bishop of Norwich at the last assizes in Norfolk, touching the conventicles and meetings of Separatists and Anabaptists within this town, and of a list of their names surprised at such conventicles) for the apprehending of them, and sending them to the Lord Bishop of Norwich, to be examined and further ordered, and for the re-committing of Cayne, and apprehending of Uryn, the one dwelling and conversing amongst us, the other frequenting this town as a merchant, so as by such negligence your honour might conceive that some among us do secretly connive, if not favour those ways (except that by a speedy execution of your lordship's warrant directed unto us, the contrary may appear) advising us to be so careful thereof, as we may give a good account at the next assizes of our service therein. May it please your honour, upon the receipt of your letters, we conferred with the bailiffs of the town, for that time being, and required of them to have the said warrant, with purpose to put the same in execution; who answered us that they never had, nor before now heard of, any such warrant. Now, so it is, saving your honour's favour and reformation, not so much for want of date of your lordship's letter, or place from whence it was directed, as for want of such warrant from your lordship unto us, or our said predecessors, we presumed to forbear to execute such business, humbly beseeching your lordship to grant us such your warrant to the former effect, and to pardon us herein; and for our parts, not knowing any of us to connive, or favour those ways, we will be willing and ready, in all we can, to execute the same, and whatever else your lordship shall give us in charge. And so, praying to the Almighty to increase and prosper your[234] days in all honour and happiness, we rest, your honour's at command,

"J. Trindle, "Thomas Johnson,

Bailiffs."[225]

The portion of the "Yarmouth Records" relating to this period are defective, and consequently the information is imperfect; but it is certain, that not long after the date specified, several persons denominated Anabaptists were imprisoned in Yarmouth, and continued in confinement until the year 1626, when it was resolved by "the Town" (as the Corporation is usually designated), to apply to the Lord Archbishop in Parliament and the Lord Treasurer, to have them removed. What became of them is not known, but most likely they were discharged, as Abbot, the then Archbishop of Canterbury, was a man distinguished by his leniency towards Nonconformists.

The "Records of the Church at Broadmead, Bristol," furnish an account of the formation of a Baptist community in that place. The steps by which it reached its ultimate ecclesiastical character are minutely traced. Mr. Canne, a well-known Baptist minister, came to Bristol, and debated the matter of baptism before "an abundance of people on a green." He led the people to "step further in separation," so that they would not so much as hear any minister who "did read the Common Prayer." Thus, in language characteristic of such documents, it is said, that the Lord led them by degrees, and brought them out of popish darkness into the marvellous light of the Gospel. Baptism by immersion afterwards became the practice of the Church, but still[235] Baptists and Pædobaptists remained with each other in fellowship at Bristol, as they did in some other places.[226] Having been joined by some persecuted Welsh brethren, the Church met in "the great room" at the Dolphin, and "sometimes at a baker's house," until the city fell into the King's hands, when most of the professors were fain to journey to London under the conduct of Royalist soldiers. But the guard proved treacherous, and actually stripped and robbed the prisoners after they reached the metropolis. They commonly met at Great Hallows, but those of their number who had been baptized as adults, communed at the Lord's Table with the Baptist Church under the pastoral care of William Kiffin. When Bristol surrendered to the Parliament, the greater part of the Church returned, but soon became "a chaos of confusion." We may add that Mr. Kiffin, with whom these Bristol Nonconformists united in London, describes, in a MS. History, the formation of a distinct Baptist Church, in 1633, gathered out of the Independent community then under the pastoral care of Henry Jacob.

Some Arminian Baptists published a Confession of Faith in 1611.[227] Another confession, issued by the Calvinistic Baptists, containing fifty-two articles, appeared[236] in 1644. The Calvinistic doctrine of predestination is distinctly affirmed, but in article xxv. the preaching of the Gospel for the conversion of sinners is declared to be absolutely free; and in article xxix. believers are defined as "a holy and sanctified people." The Congregational order of Church Government is propounded in article xxxvi. and baptism, on a profession of faith, in article xxxix. A note to article xlviii. on civil government, declares "it is the magistrate's duty to tender the liberty of men's consciences, Ecc. viii. 8, (which is the tenderest thing unto all conscientious men, and most dear unto them, and without which all other liberties will not be worth the naming, much less enjoying), and to protect all under them from all wrong, injury, oppression, and molestation."[228]

By the Parliamentary ordinance of April, 1645, forbidding any person to preach who was not an ordained minister, in the Presbyterian, or in some other Reformed Church—all Baptist ministers became exposed to molestation, they being accounted a sect, and not a Church.[229] A few months after the date of this law, the Baptists being pledged to a public controversy in London with Edmund Calamy, the Lord Mayor interfered to prevent the disputation—a circumstance which seems to shew that on the one hand the Baptists were becoming a formidable body in London, and, on the other hand, that their fellow-citizens were highly exasperated against them.[230]

[237]

Before we close this brief notice of the rise and early progress of the Baptist denomination, it may be remarked in connection with their conspicuous advocacy of the fullest religious toleration, that they furnish a striking example of the union of such advocacy with the maintenance of dogmatic Christianity in that which may be termed its most evangelical form. And, indeed, the same remark is applicable to many of the Independents. Nor can there be any question respecting the originality of the doctrines of religious liberty as held by the Baptists, for it is manifest that they derived them neither from the teaching of antiquity, nor from the writings of learned and gifted contemporaries. Their sentiments on the subject can by no means be considered as the expression of the genius and spirit of the age in which they lived: for intolerance was at the time all but universal in England and throughout the continent of Europe. So far as they were indebted to history for their principles of freedom, the debt was due to the sufferings of their fathers—for as Bayle says, the sect "boasts of a great number of martyrs: its martyrology is a large volume in folio."[238][231] And no doubt the discipline of pain in their own experience had a share in both their intellectual and moral culture, and that much of the grand lesson which they were enabled to teach had been learned in the school of affliction. The love of liberty and the endurance of oppression constituted the inheritance which they had derived from their spiritual ancestry.

What has been said of the polity and discipline of Independents will apply generally to the polity and discipline of the Baptists. These two religious denominations substantially agreed with each other; the main and almost the only difference between them, having relation to the mode of Baptism, and to the recipients of the rite. When Baptist ministers held livings they stood in the same relation to the national establishment as did their fellow Congregationalists, admitting members, exercising discipline, and conducting their business quite independently of the political powers.

John Tombes, an Oxford Bachelor of Divinity of superior ability and learning, and standing high in the estimation of all parties, had felt difficulties respecting infant baptism long before the commencement of the wars. Not receiving answers to certain questions which he proposed on the subject to the Westminster Assembly, he renounced his former practice, and avowed Antipædobaptist opinions. This brought him into collision with some of his parishioners, whilst minister of Fenchurch.[232] Though forfeiting that incumbency for not baptizing[239] infants, he was deemed eligible for the preachership of the Temple, and obtained that honourable post. But he soon lost this preferment also, in consequence of his publishing a treatise on the subject which so much occupied his thoughts. The people of Bewdley, in Worcestershire—his native town—were however allowed to choose him for their minister, and there it was that he held the public dispute with Richard Baxter, already described. Seeing no prospect of any alteration in the Establishment with regard to baptism, he "gathered a separate Church of those of his own persuasion, continuing at the same time minister of the parish." The perpetual curacy of Bewdley having become impoverished by the sale of ecclesiastical property, Tombes received the parsonage of Ross, which he subsequently relinquished for the Hospital at Ledbury. Retaining the Hospital, and removing from Bewdley, he became once more minister of the parish of Leominster, in Herefordshire, the place in which he had held his first preferment. His name appears amongst Cromwell's Triers; a circumstance involving this important consequence, that "the Commissioners agreed to own the Baptists as their brethren, and that if such applied to them for probation, and appeared in other respects to be duly qualified, they should not be rejected for holding this opinion. And hence it came to pass, that at the Restoration several parishes were found to have Baptist ministers fixed in them."[233] Yet throughout this good man's life, after he had embraced Antipædobaptist views, his peculiarities in that respect exposed him to much trouble and sorrow.

Henry Jessy, a Cambridge Master of Arts, after holding the living of Aughton, in Yorkshire, accepted[240] the pastorship of an Independent congregation in the borough of Southwark; but in consequence of several of the members embracing Baptist opinions, he examined the controversy for himself, and this ended in his submitting to be immersed, and in his becoming a zealous advocate of the practice. Yet he continued to admit Pædobaptists to the Lord's Supper, and lived in charity with his Independent brethren. During the Commonwealth, he spent every Lord's Day in the afternoon "among his own people," giving instruction and sustaining discipline; but "in the morning he usually preached at St. George's parish church, in Southwark," of which he had become Rector. Besides being renowned for ministerial diligence, catholicity of temper, and liberality to the poor, he took great interest in revising the authorized version of the Scriptures, carrying about with him constantly a copy of the Hebrew and of the Greek Testaments, quaintly calling one "his sword and dagger," and the other his "shield and buckler." He sought the aid of learned friends in the revision of his work, and would often exclaim, "Oh, that I might see this done before I die."[234] He further made large collections for the Jews at Jerusalem, and together with the money which he obtained he sent them letters with the view of converting them to the Christian faith.

There lived at Bristol a remarkable man, one of those born orators in whom genius makes up for defect of culture, and who in all ages have distinguished themselves by their rude unfettered eloquence. Thomas Ewins was a mechanic, with little or no education; but becoming a preacher he speedily rose to eminent popularity. Elected pastor of the Baptist church in the[241] city just mentioned, and objecting to tithes and all compulsory payments, accepting only free gifts, he nevertheless ordinarily preached at Christ Church before the Mayor and Aldermen, and conducted lectures at St. Nicholas' and other churches—thus sustaining a sort of semi-relation to the Establishment. "The Broadmead Records" contain specimens of his preaching, and also a curious diagram which he drew of certain blazing stars observed in the heavens, portending, as he thought, the approach of Divine judgments.

Another example of a Baptist preacher in a parish church is taken from the "Life and Death of Mr. John Bunyan:"—

"Being to preach in a church in a country village (before the restoration of King Charles) in Cambridgeshire, and the people being gathered together in the churchyard, a Cambridge scholar, and none of the soberest of 'em neither, enquired what the meaning of that concourse of people was, it being upon the weekday, and being told that one Bunyan, a tinker, was to preach there, he gave a boy twopence to hold his horse, saying, 'He was resolved to hear the tinker prate;' and so went into the church to hear him. But God met with him there by his ministry, so that He came out much changed, and would, by his goodwill, hear none but the tinker for a long time after, he himself becoming a very eminent preacher in that county afterwards. This story," the writer adds, "I know to be true, having many a time discoursed with the man, and therefore I could not but set it down as a singular instance of the power of God that accompanied his ministry."

The Baptists became numerous under the Common[242]wealth.[235] Numbers of members were admitted to their Churches, and these Churches formed themselves into[243] associations. At the meetings which were consequently held, questions relating to order, worship, and discipline came under discussion. Disputes arose respecting what is termed "open" and "strict" membership—in other words, respecting the question, whether individuals not adopting Baptist views were proper persons for membership in Baptist Churches.[236] A controversy also sprung up as to the propriety of hearing the Gospel as it was preached by ministers who had not been baptized, according to the Baptist idea, and also with respect to the practice of joining in psalmody with those who were unbaptized.[237]

Nonconformists in Wales previous to the outbreak of the civil wars, and for some years afterwards, are said to have been Congregational Pædobaptists. The formation of the first Antipædobaptist Church in the principality is ascribed to the year 1649. Vavasour Powell—who has appeared in these pages in connection with the Fifth Monarchy men—and who had been from about the year 1640 an indefatigable preacher of the Gospel amongst his fellow-countrymen—for he was a Welshman—adopted Antipædobaptist views in the midst of his missionary career; and after that change he may be presumed to have advocated his newly-adopted opinion. But he does not appear to have been at all a bigoted man, or to have sought the establishment of Churches upon the strict communion principle.[238] After the year 1649, a[244] few more Baptist congregations were gathered, and a small association of four of these met in the town of Carmarthen in the year 1651, when questions were mooted touching the practice of singing psalms, and the laying on of hands in the office of ordination.[239]

In Ireland, Baptist opinions spread, and Churches were planted in several cities and towns within that island. Cromwell's soldiers, including some who were Baptists, preached in Scotland,[240] and a chaplain of Fairfax's publicly disputed with a Scotch minister upon the question whether infant baptism was grounded on the Word of God.[241] The famous Colonel Lilburne was a Baptist, and in the north he zealously propagated his own distinctive principles. The Scotch Presbytery soon declared against "the new dippers."[242]

There has been occasion to notice more than once the existence of two classes of Independents—the one entertaining broader views of toleration than did the other, and, at the same time, more closely approximating to modern voluntaries than did some of their brethren. There must have been a similar difference amongst Baptists. The distinction comes before us again. Owen and Goodwin did not object to State support, nor do we discover in the writings of any of the chief Independents of the Commonwealth an exposition and defence of the voluntary principle. We have seen that several Independents and Baptists were parochial incumbents. Ministers, however, of both denominations, especially of the latter, at that time held no benefices. This might not arise always from conscientious scruples respecting[245] an establishment, but it is probable that in many cases it did so.

The larger section of the Baptist ministers and Churches stood outside the pale of Cromwell's establishment, and probably, in general, they preferred that position. The well-known Hanserd Knollys, a Cambridge graduate, after resigning a living, and gathering a Baptist Church, would only accept the free contributions of his hearers, eking out his subsistence by school-keeping. The Fifth Monarchy Anabaptists distinctly and boldly opposed tithes, and protested against all State endowments. John Canne, in his "Second Voice from the Temple, to the Higher Powers," 1653, violently inveighs against a national ministry, as "essentially derived from the Pope," and after pointing to Presbyterians and Independents, as those who "do appear most for tithe;" archly adds, "yet the truth is, neither of them, by the law of the land, have any title to it; for they are not such incumbents or ecclesiastical persons as the law allows."[243]

[246]

The most united and consistent opponents of both State alliance and State allowance were the people called Quakers, and other mystic sects who took up their position altogether outside of Cromwell's Broad Church.

To them we shall pay attention in a subsequent chapter, but, in the meanwhile, it is necessary that we should supply some account of the state of the Universities, and also point out the position of Episcopalians in reference to the Establishment.

CHAPTER XI.

The civil wars, and the changes consequent upon the taking of Oxford, left the University in a deplorable condition. Many Fellows and Scholars were dead. Men of learning and high character had been ejected. No admissions from Westminster, Eton, St. Paul's, Merchant Tailors, or other public schools had taken place during five or six years; and parents, in times so troubled, had naturally felt unwilling to send their sons to a place which was almost as much of a camp as of a school.

But prospects brightened after the war. Some who had fled when the city of Oxford was garrisoned now returned, and were promoted according to seniority. Graduates too came from Cambridge, and helped to fill up vacancies; also young men long kept at home, entered their names upon the college books, and supplies from public schools were to some extent renewed.

Scenes of festivity revived. On the 17th of May, 1649, the University prepared for the arrival of two distinguished visitors. Fairfax and Cromwell, with a staff of officers, were on their way to receive academic honours;[248] and on their arrival, being welcomed with great rejoicing, they were at once conducted to the apartments of the Warden of All Souls, where they received a magnificent entertainment. Heads of houses paid their respects, and one of the fellows of the hospitable college in which they were lodged delivered a congratulatory speech, which Wood reports to have been a bad one, "but good enough for the occasion." The hero of Naseby assured the authorities that he and his companions were well aware no commonwealth could flourish without learning, and that whatever the world said to the contrary they meant to encourage it more and more. He and his companions, with their suite, dined at the table of the President of Magdalen, and afterwards played bowls on the college green. In the afternoon, the degree of Doctor of Laws was conferred on the generals, and that of Master of Arts on the principal officers. The chieftains were robed in scarlet, and with the exception of the hood and square cap—which some Puritans scrupled to wear—and the silver staves—which the beadles had not been able to obtain from their predecessors in office—the appearance of things in the Convocation House remained much as usual. All the members standing bareheaded, Proctor Zanchy presented the guests to the Vice-Chancellor, and delivered a short speech. The speech is not reported, but if an incident, such as occurred when South was conducting a soldier to receive an honorary degree, had taken place on this occasion, the witticism of that orator would have been very appropriate:—"Præsento vobis virum hunc bellicosissmum," commenced the speaker. Just then the warrior happened suddenly to turn round, "Qui nunquam antea tergiversatus est," added the ready wit.

The Earl of Pembroke, who had been Chancellor,[249] died in January, 1650. At a convocation held twelve months afterwards, the University elected Cromwell to the vacant office. Warriors seem not the fittest persons for such a post, but as respects the University which placed Wellington in the chair once occupied by Cromwell many will agree with Kohl: "These are the two most remarkable Chancellors of Oxford, ever heard of."

When Dr. Fell had been ejected from the Deanery of Christ Church, Dr. Edward Reynolds, a Presbyterian, succeeded him for a short period, after which Dr. Owen, the Independent filled the office. Although he had been a student in the University his Independency had excited such strong prejudices, that on his taking a Doctor's degree some did "intend to battle him, when he came to dispute, thinking that as he had been so long time absent from the University, he would be unready both in speaking Latin and disputing. He was better prepared, however, than they were aware of, and keeping them to the strict rules of disputation, he managed the whole exercise with such exactness as frustrated their expectations."[244]

Owen was admirably fitted for the station which he occupied. To a rare amount of theological learning he united personal endowments and accomplishments, such as carry with them an indefinable influence, and command respect even from the prejudiced. He had a dignified presence, a face not soon to be forgotten, eyes of penetrating brightness, lips of firm resolve, a countenance generally very grave, and which could be very stern, profuse locks curling over the shoulder, and altogether the air and bearing of a gentleman. His appearance had arrested Cromwell's notice. "Sir," said the general, laying his hand on Owen's shoulder, "you are a person[250] I must be acquainted with." "That," replied the Divine; with the courtliness of a cavalier, "will be much more to my advantage than yours." They became friends. Cromwell honoured Owen, and nominated him to the Vice-Chancellorship after the Parliament had appointed him to the Deanery.

Although Owen rose to the Vice-Chancellorship in September, 1652, it is remarkable that there is no annual oration by him for the year 1653.[245] The circumstance becomes significant on a perusal of the oration for 1654, and some light is thrown on the state of the University during the year when the oration was omitted. In 1654, the speaker pointedly alludes to some extraordinary perils the University had just survived.[246] There had been a conflict, he said, out of which the University rose, not with trophies, spoils, and garlands, but with scars, and with torn standards, dragged in dust. He and his learned colleagues had fought for what had been handed down from antiquity—the depository of past ages, and the seed-plot of precious hopes. They had put to flight wine-shops, ale-sellers, mimics, farces, buffoons, the public riots, and disgraceful scenes infesting the streets. Halls and edifices had been deserted and insulted, tottering to their fall, supporters had gone, props were removed, and things presented a melancholy spectacle; but God had preserved and wonderfully restored the University, after winds and storms had assailed it in vain. Under Owen's rhetorical Latin, so characteristic of the age, we discover the fact that the former year, when the annual oration had been omitted, was one of strange confusion in Oxford.

[251]

The oration of 1657 further indicates the difficulties of the year 1653, and touches upon some which seemed far more threatening than any mentioned in the former speech. Five years—said Owen—had passed since his elevation to office, and for two years after that elevation the critical situation of the University had been a subject for astrologers and newspapers—to such a pitch did things arrive that to have advocated public schools would have been reckoned offensive to religion. Everything disgraceful was imputed to the advocates of learning. Affairs were in confusion, and on the edge of the pit, and the University was saved by a miracle. "When," he adds, "it appeared to what length audacity, rage, and ignorance would carry those from whom better things might have been expected, the Supreme Arbiter of Events so frustrated their efforts in a moment, that with all their strength they scarcely could take care of themselves who three days before were in the act of devouring us. Nothing remained to these wretched creatures except great disgrace, everlasting infamy of the unprincipled attempt upon the seats of learning, which God in His displeasure averted."[247]

This passage points to a kind of danger different from that which is deplored in the earlier oration. Then the Vice-Chancellor spoke of internal confusions, of the undisciplined condition of the colleges, and of the riotous conduct of the gownsmen and townspeople: now his speech relates to external attacks, to opinions afloat in the country, and to unprincipled attempts made by enemies of learning for the overthrow of the Universities altogether. The "three days" are most significant words, and we cannot help connecting the expression with that[252] critical period when the Little Parliament was arrested by Cromwell in its destructive career.

The tendencies of that Parliament have been indicated, and although Clarendon is a prejudiced witness in the case, yet making on that ground some abatement from his evidence, it appears there is truth in his remark, that the House proposed the sale of lands belonging to the Universities, and that the moneys arising from such sale should be employed for the public service. No proof exists, as far as we are aware, of any resolution or motion to that effect, yet it seems more than possible that such things might be talked of in the Little Parliament by some of the more fanatical of its members. There must have been some good reason for the remark which Cromwell made in a speech he delivered in the year 1657. "What the issue of that meeting (the Little Parliament) would have been 'seemed questionable,' and was feared; upon which the sober men of that meeting did withdraw; and came and returned my power as far as they could,—they did actually the greater part of them,—into my hands, professing and believing that the issue of that meeting would have been the subversion of your laws, and of all the liberties of this nation, the destruction of the ministers of this nation, in a word the confusion of all things."[248] Further evidence might be cited to the same effect,[249] nor are there wanting proofs, as will be seen hereafter, that perilous changes were contemplated, and that even certain ministers of religion at that time so undervalued learning as to lead the attack which was made on the Universities. Dell and Webster, who made themselves conspicuous in this respect, will be noticed in connection with Cambridge.

[253]

During the period in which Owen held the Vice-Chancellorship at Oxford, he devoted himself to the accomplishment of academical reforms. He was anxious to abolish the use of unnecessary oaths, to multiply public exercises for the improvement of students, to prevent gownsmen from leading idle lives, to modify the public acts so as to render them occasions for useful discussion, and to abolish the custom of allowing the terræ filius (as he was called) to indulge in unseemly satire and vulgar abuse. But he did not succeed in all his plans, in consequence of the opposition which was made by parties in the University.

One curious custom abolished by the Parliamentary visitors before Owen became Vice-Chancellor may be mentioned here. Upon the decease of any one of the heads of houses, or of any other distinguished person, the University bellman put on the gown and formalities of the defunct, and with his bell proclaimed in every hall and college that it had pleased God to take out of this world the individual whom the official so strangely represented. He gave notice, at the same time, that on such a day the deceased would be solemnly interred. Besides abolishing this odd practice, the visitors prohibited the bellman's going before the corpse from the college to the church.[250]

Anthony Wood is sadly distressed at the Vice-Chancellor's irregular proceedings with regard to college habits,[251] and, indeed, this is the principal complaint which he urges[254] against his administration. "Instead of short hair, collar-band, and cassock in the pulpit," the Oxford historian complains, "we might have beheld long powdered hair, large hands, and shirts half hanging out at their sleeve, and they themselves accounting nothing more ridiculous than starch formality. As for caps, square or round, none were worn publicly only in some colleges at refection or scholastic exercises." Hoods, he says, were used at length by none but the Proctors, and the Vice-Chancellor sat with his hat on, 'and that cockt.' He went "in quirpo like a young scholar, with powdered hair, snake-bone bandstrings, (or bandstrings having large tassels), lawn band, a large set of ribands pointed, at his knees, and Spanish leather boots with large lawn tops."[252] The representation brings the Puritan before us in the costume of a Cavalier, and, if correct, is certainly irreconcilable with the pictures commonly drawn of the class of persons to whom Owen belonged. A Roundhead thus attired is a very anomalous being, and the description makes us suspect that, let the Dean have dressed as he might, he could not have pleased his angry critic. Indeed the Puritans have been represented by certain historians in such a way as to remind one of the pictures of Brueghel, who so accustomed himself to paint witches and imps, that when he tried to depict a man he was sure to make him look like a devil.[253]

It may be interesting here to pause for a moment, and to notice some of the remarkable individuals who were connected with the University at the time of the Commonwealth.

Amongst the Canons of Christchurch was Ralph[255] Button, who, on his election to a Fellowship at Exeter College, won from Dr. Prideaux the witty compliment, that all who were elected besides him were "not worth a button;" and, amongst the gownsmen, who in those days paced the quadrangle, or loitered in the green meadows of that magnificent foundation, were other men of whom Oxford has since been proud. A pale, delicate young student might have been seen there, who was destined to carry his genius into the regions of metaphysics, and to expound with rare sagacity and power the principles of religious toleration. There, also, was a hearty-looking Bachelor of Arts, with a keen, but scarcely good-humoured expression, whose eloquence and wit afterwards rendered him one of the cleverest, if not one of the best preachers of the Church of England. John Locke and Robert South were both Christchurch men, and another distinguished contemporary of a different character was Philip Henry.

On reaching the grey tower of Magdalen we might have seen presiding over that foundation, Dr. Thomas Goodwin, one of "the two atlasses and patriarchs of Independency,"[254] as Wood calls him—already mentioned in this work as a member of the Westminster Assembly—and we might have met with two of the Fellows—John Howe[255] and Theophilus Gale—who, by their increasing familiarity with Greek literature, were then laying up ample stores for the construction of their great works, "The Living Temple," and "The Court of the Gentiles."

[256]

Dr. Daniel Greenwood, whom Neal styles "a Profound Scholar and Divine," and whom Wood admits to have been "a severe and good governor," was Principal of Brazen Nose, and Dr. John Conant was Rector of Exeter, respecting whom Prideaux, amongst his numerous witticisms, observed, "Conanti nihil difficile." Dr. Robert Harris, President of Trinity, is described as skilful in Hebrew Chronology, Church History, and Patristic Literature; and Dr. Edmund Staunton, President of Corpus, has been called a Walking Concordance, on account of his minute knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. Dr. Joshua Hoyle, Master of University College, previous to his residence in Oxford, had been Divinity Professor in Dublin, where he spent more than fifteen years in studying the Popish controversy, and in answering the works of Bellarmine. Henry Wilkinson—commonly styled Dean Harry—Principal of Magdalen Hall, secured so much esteem from the Royalists, that at the Restoration they were anxious to retain his services, but he refused to conform. He is described by Wood as "courteous in speech and carriage, communicative of his knowledge, generous and charitable to the poor; and so public-spirited—that he always minded the common good more than his own private concerns." Dr. John Wilkins, of Wadham, who married Oliver Cromwell's sister, and was afterwards promoted to the mastership of Trinity College, Cambridge, was almost equally eminent as a theologian, a critic, a preacher, and a mathematician. The University of Oxford at the same time counted in the number of her professors, Pocock, the Orientalist; Seth Ward, the astronomer; Wallis, the geometrician; and Lewis De Moulin, a learned foreigner: besides others who, though now little known, were of high reputation in their own day. Owen said, in 1653, and, perhaps, with[257] still more confidence, he might have said it a few years afterwards, that the heads of Houses at that time merited honour of the Church for candour, diligence, erudition, and politeness; and that the University had never been surpassed by any society in the world, in point of proper respect and esteem for piety, for manners, orderly and Christian, and for a due regard to doctrines, arts, languages, and science.[256] In addition to those now mentioned there were other remarkable persons dwelling within the University precincts. In the Bodleian library, Henry Stubbe held the office of second keeper. A reader of all kinds of books, at home in ecclesiastical and profane history, as well as in mathematical studies, he also spoke Greek and Latin with much ease; and, according to his eulogists, could "talk on various sciences with an eloquent tongue, or with his dexterous pen write so as none could equal, answer, or come near him."[257] In a recess of the library, Elias Ashmole often sat pouring over old coins, for he had come to make a catalogue of the numismatic collection given to the Bodleian by Archbishop Laud. Among the gownsmen were many young scholars and divines rising into distinction, whose names were afterwards to command respect in the republic of letters, or in the offices of the Church: Wadham could point to Sprat, afterwards Bishop of Rochester—Queen's to Compton, who became Bishop of London—Lincoln, Magdalen, Hart Hall, and Corpus Christi all numbered amongst their students future[258] prelates. Sir Christopher Wren, at that time accounted a prodigy of genius,[258] Dr. Whitby, the fierce but able anti-Calvinist; Matthew Poole, the commentator; and Anthony Wood, the antiquary and historian, were also educated at Oxford during the Commonwealth.

It is interesting to find that John Evelyn visited Oxford on the 6th of July, 1654, "the eve of the Act," and that he fully records in his diary what he witnessed during his stay at the University.

There were exercises, he informs us, in the schools, and after dinner the proctor opened the Act at St. Mary's. The prevaricators indulged in drollery, and the doctors engaged in disputations. On Sunday, Dr. French preached to the students, advising them to seek true wisdom, not in books of philosophy, but in the Scriptures alone. The same day, Dr. Owen delivered a sermon, in which he "gave Episcopacy a brush." The following afternoon came long speeches from Proctors and Professors, and the Vice-Chancellor; and these were followed by the bestowment of diplomas (four in theology, and three in medicine), with the ancient ceremonies of cap, ring, and kiss. The Presbyterian "Inceptor" had a rub at the Episcopalians. A magnificent entertainment in Wadham Hall closed the day, and the next morning a Latin sermon was delivered.

Barlow, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, was librarian of the Bodleian, and shewed his friend the following rarities:—An old English Bible, "wherein the Eunuch mentioned to be baptized by Philip is called the gelding;" the Acts of the Council of Basle, with its bulla, or leaden affix; a MS. by Bede; the old Sarum ritual;[259] a curious piece of penmanship by a French lady; and an hieroglyphical table, painted on asses' hide. But the thousand MSS., furnishing part of the library built by Archbishop Laud, especially the Oriental ones, of all the Oxford wonders which Evelyn saw, were most illustrious. In the closet of the tower were exhibited Indian weapons, urns, and lamps, together with the Koran, written on a sheet of calico, made up into a priest's vesture or cope.

The Convocation House, the pleasant diarist goes on to inform us, was finely wainscoted. The Divinity School had a gothic carved roof, and the Schools of Physic and Anatomy were adorned with "the skin of a jackal, a rarely-coloured jackatoo (or prodigious large parrot), two hummingbirds, not much bigger than our humble bees," and other curiosities. St. John's Library had two skeletons, and a store of mathematical instruments—the gift of Archbishop Laud. New College still wore its "ancient garb," and at Magdalen the library and chapel were in pontifical order, with a double organ, and the altar turned tablewise. Christ Church Library contained an Office of Henry VIII., brilliantly illuminated, the gift of Cardinal Wolsey. The physic garden contained canes, olive trees, rhubarb, and the sensitive plant.

Wadham College had become a receptacle for curiosities under the scientific Dr. Wilkins. Transparent apiaries,—built like castles and palaces,—preserved honey without destroying the bees. A speaking figure, with a concealed pipe in its mouth, dials, thermometer, a "waywiser," a "monstrous magnet," and divers objects, artificial, mathematical, and magical, crowded the Warden's lodgings and gallery. The Royal Society had its cradle in the quaint rooms over the college gateway. There met "the invisibles," as Boyle called them, "the[260] virtuosi," as they termed themselves:—eschewing politics and divinity, and preferring to discourse upon "the circulation of the blood," "the valves of the veins," "the lymphatic vessels," "the Copernican hypothesis," and kindred themes. We may add, that music-meetings occurred in the house of William Ellis, late organist of St. John's, "opposite to that place whereon the theatre was built." There George Stradling, Fellow of All Souls, shewed himself "an admirable Lutinist;" whilst Ralph Sheldon,—a Roman Catholic, living in Halywell, near Oxford—was applauded for his "smooth way" of playing on the viol; and Ellis the host himself presided at the organ, or performed upon a virginal, or a counter-tenor violin. William Glexney, who had belonged to a choir before the wars, is mentioned as a good player on the bass viol; and Thomas James, of Magdalen, is named as holding weekly meetings in his chamber, practising much on "the Theorbo lute."[259]

The University of Oxford, under the Protectorate, professed as much loyalty to his Highness Oliver Cromwell, as it had ever done to his Majesty King Charles. No addresses could be more deeply charged with grateful expressions and ingenious compliments than those laid at the feet of the great warrior and prince of the Commonwealth. Some curious specimens of them are preserved in a little volume, entitled, "Musarum Oxoniensium ΕΛΑΙΟΦΟΡΙΑ"—written to celebrate the peace which Cromwell concluded with the Dutch in 1654. Owen takes the lead, and for once invokes the muse. Zouch, Harmer, Bathurst, Busby, Locke, Philip Henry, and others, dwell on the same subject in Greek, Latin, or English verse; but what is most remarkable, South figures among the most glowing[261] eulogists—he who, thirty years afterwards, in the pulpit of Westminster Abbey, denounced Cromwell as a bankrupt, beggarly fellow, and ridiculed him as first entering the Parliament-house with a threadbare, torn cloak, and a greasy hat, perhaps neither of them paid for.[260]

We subjoin part of his eulogy, having first ventured to render it into English rhyme:—

Before leaving Oxford, notice should be taken of a learned work published during the Commonwealth, and in which Oxford scholars took a principal part. A prospectus for the publication of "Walton's Polyglott" appeared in 1652; the publication was completed in 1658, having occupied four years. Pocock, the professor of Hebrew and Arabic, was one of Walton's principal helpers. Walton, himself—a Cambridge man, who had[262] fled to Oxford during the wars, and lost all his preferments by the changes of the times,—employed his leisure from public duties by the indefatigable toil which has immortalized his name. Other ejected Episcopalians shared prominently in the undertaking,[261] and their names are found attached to the prospectus; but perhaps no one yielded so much literary assistance as did Professor Pocock. The credit of the enterprise and of its admirable accomplishment belongs to the Episcopalians,—with whom Pocock, although permitted to hold office at Oxford under the reign of Independency, was identified. In the hour of their humiliation they achieved what deserves the gratitude and praise of posterity; and, at the same time, it is much to the honour of Cromwell that he patronized and assisted them in their work—notwithstanding they were his political antagonists, and the work itself upon which they were engaged crossed the prejudices of some of his favourite theologians. The duty on the paper which was employed in the printing of the volumes was, through the influence of the Protector,[262] remitted by an order of the Council of State; and the same favour was granted to Bee, the editor of the "Critici Sacri." This favour induced Castell, the author of the "Heptaglott Lexicon,"[263] to seek the like indulgence. That work, however, was not published until after the Restoration.

When Walton's Magnum Opus left the press,[263] it awakened great interest in the critical world. The science which has been so much advanced by the discoveries of a Mill, a Griesbach, and a Tischendorf, was then only in its infancy. Jealously watched by the old-fashioned students of Hebrew and Greek, who feared injury to the authority of the Bible and the cause of religion, from any reflection on the perfect integrity of the textus receptus, no wonder that "the voluminous bulk of various lections as nakedly exhibited"—and likely, it was thought, "to beget scruples and doubts in the minds of men"—excited alarm in some who were deeply anxious for the welfare of the Church. Dr. Owen was of this number, and his are the words just quoted. Zealous alike for the purity of the text, and the authority of the points, he followed Buxtorf and Glassius; and looked upon Capellus and Grotius as dangerous innovators. He went so far as to say: "What use hath been made and is as yet made, in the world, of this supposition, that corruptions have befallen the originals of the Scripture, which those various lections at first view seem to intimate, I need not declare. It is in brief the foundation of Mahometism, the chiefest and principal prop of Popery, the only pretence of fanatical anti-scripturists, and the root of much hidden Atheism in the world."[264] This is a curious passage in the history of literature. That so[264] learned and liberal a man as Dr. Owen should have talked thus, may in our time provoke a smile from tyros in criticism. But he who wrote after this fashion must be judged by the state of things existing in his own time, not by the state of things at present. Owen, although as an Independent he would be deemed a revolutionist, really was in theology, and in some ecclesiastical respects likewise, a very decided Conservative. Zealous for what he counted reform, he dreaded removing old landmarks. Let him have the credit as well as the reproach of Conservatism. In his treatise on the integrity and purity of the Scripture text—from which the above passage is extracted—he animadverted upon the Polyglott, its prolegomena and appendix. The essay shews that he was more of a theologian than a critic—a fact of which he seems to have been conscious himself. It would have been better for his fame if he had not touched the subject: and most of his admirers will regret that, so far, he can be quoted as one of a class, too numerous still, who, trembling without cause for the ark of God, set themselves in opposition to the progress of Biblical enquiry. Without attempting to defend the Vice-Chancellor in this matter, we may add, that the tone of his criticisms is respectful and modest, and will bear honourable comparison with other controversial productions of that age.[265] Pocock answered Owen with critical learning, such as Owen had[265] not at his command, and with a force of reasoning which Owen could not repel; but with a contempt and violence which Owen had done nothing to provoke.

To pass from Oxford to Cambridge, of which it has been said—and it is equally true of the sister University—that "separated as yet from the capital of the kingdom by a tedious horse journey of two days, and destitute of any better conveyance for letters than its well-known carrier," it was "still one of the great centres of the literature, the science, the talent, and, unhappily also, the religious strife of the nation."[266]

The Engagement was pressed upon the Masters and Fellows. The majority were Presbyterians, with some Episcopalians who, through private influence, had retained office without subscribing the Covenant. Opposed in almost equal degrees to the new test, both parties found their position and emoluments in immediate jeopardy. At first the enforcement was gentle, but in June, 1650, a committee received authority to examine those who had not taken the oath, and to fill up vacancies caused by their ejection. Yet, before the end of the month, Cromwell being at Cambridge, received the Vice-Chancellor and others, to whom he gave an assurance that there should be no further proceedings against non-subscribers, for he had used his influence with Parliament to put a stop to them.[267] Probably that influence checked the intended severity; for, during the next twelve months, persons[266] who did not submit to the Engagement, were allowed to retain their fellowships. For a time friendly intercession prevailed: learning, piety, and social virtue shielded Episcopalian delinquents. It was a season of great suspense and excitement. Letters passed on the subject between Cambridge men and their distant friends. The former discussed University affairs in quadrangles, halls, and chambers, and in their walks by the banks of the Cam. Fellows of different parties were narrowly watched. Staunch Episcopalians were anxious to see whether boasters about decision would be true to their principles; and sad discouragement came from men who kept their fellowships by at last taking the oath, after having stoutly denied that they would ever do so. This we learn from the letters of Sancroft, whose conscientiousness then in his refusal of the Engagement—and afterwards at a still more critical period of his life as a non-juror—every one ought to honour. His own case illustrates in part what has been just remarked, inasmuch as friendly interference deferred his ejectment for a season. "The Committee," he writes to his brother, November the 17th, 1650, "sat last week here, and summoned some of St. John's to appear at London; but I heard nothing of them. Some would persuade me, and I am sometimes prone to believe it, that I have some secret friend who doth me good offices, though I know it not." When danger became imminent, and the Committee sat at the "Bear" and summoned Sancroft, he would not go;—he playfully describes himself as "trussing up his baggage, i.e., a viol wrapped in a dozen flannel napkins, two towels and two table-cloths, two old shirts, and a carpet; also a little box with his hanging watch; also an alarum with lines and weights." He was expelled in July.[268]

[267]

It is somewhat startling, amidst this story of anxieties, ejections, and impoverishments for conscience' sake, to turn to the oration delivered by young Isaac Barrow, on Commencement-day, the following year, 1651, and to hear him speaking thus:—"If it be true, as rumour tells, that you have so tired of all substantial fare as to nauseate the banquet of eloquence and the feast of sound philosophy—that nothing has for you any relish except painted comfits and unmeaning trifles—that not even wisdom will please you, unless without its own peculiar flavour; nor truth, unless seasoned with a jest; nor reason, unless soaked in fun; then in an unlucky hour have I been assigned as your purveyor, neither born nor bred to such a frivolous confectionary. The insatiable appetite of laughter keeps itself within no bounds. Have you crowded to this place for the purpose of listening and studying, and making progress; or only for the sake of laughing at this thing, and making a jest of that other? As if folly herself kept court amongst us—as if here were the market-place and universal emporium of nonsense, you drink in with greedy ears jibes, and squibs, and ribaldry, and then, when well considered and improved, set them all a-circulating again. There is nothing so remote from levity which you do not instantly—such is your alchemy—transmute into mirth and absurdity. And let a discourse be such as to move no laughter, nothing else will please—neither dignity, nor gravity, nor solidity—neither strength, nor point, nor polish."[269]

One cannot suppose that this description applies to the Fellows or older members. But it must have been true of undergraduates and other young men. They—unless Barrow has gone beyond all bounds in his declamation—[268]were a very noisy, boisterous, laughter-loving set. In truth, undergraduates were then what undergraduates have been ever since, full of fun, which at times leaped up in unseemly forms. Cambridge and Oxford commemorations, in the middle of the seventeenth century, were no contrasts to Cambridge and Oxford commemorations in the nineteenth. On reading Barrow's grandiloquent speech, it is easy to fancy shouts rolling round the hall in wit and humour—not unlike what our newspapers report of University festivals in our own time. And although Heads of houses and Fellows would decorously behave themselves on those occasions—from official prudence no less than from Puritanical propriety—let it not be supposed that the Puritans were men who never laughed and joked; for it is remarkable how often in their memoirs we find allusions to the "facetiousness" of persons, who, judged of from their portraits, were as solemn as the grave.

Even after the University had, in some good measure, been brought within the terms of the Engagement, military visitors seem to have given trouble; for Oliver Cromwell caused the following order to be posted up at head quarters, addressed to all under his command, and to all whom it might concern:—"These are to charge and require you upon sight hereof not to quarter any officers or soldiers in any of the colleges, halls, or other houses belonging to the University of Cambridge, nor to offer any injury or violence to any of the students or members of any of the colleges or houses of the said University, as you shall answer the contrary at your peril. Given under my hand and seal the first of July, 1652."[270]

The following year saw troublers of the peace far worse[269] than any of Cromwell's troopers. Sydrach Simpson, one of the five brethren of the Westminster Assembly, who had been appointed Master of Pembroke Hall, in the room of Mr. Vines—a Presbyterian ejected for refusing the Engagement—had, at the commemoration of 1653, defended the University. He had said, in his oration, that they who had endeavoured to pull down schools were men formed to be enemies of religion, like Julian the Apostate—that all Divinity is swaddled in human learning—that Paul was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel—that if the Spirit taught without means, men might as well be without ordinances as colleges—that knowledge is to be obtained not by inspiration, but study—that arts and tongues are the cups in which God drinks to us. After this fashion—in phraseology often very peculiar and yet expressing considerable wisdom—the Independent Master of Pembroke had appeared in defence of his University. Thereby he incurred the ire of William Dell,[271] Master of Caius—whose conduct in the army excited the displeasure of Richard Baxter, and who, for his very broad advocacy of toleration, incurred no small reproach from other Presbyterians. His opinions as to the manner of supporting religion approached much nearer to those of modern voluntaries than did the opinions of many persons at that time; but they were coupled with views of human learning, an educated ministry, and collegiate institutions, such as happily most modern voluntaries would disallow. Entertaining no hostility to learning on its own account, Dell protested against it as a qualification for instructing men in Christianity. He denied that it assisted in the understanding of Scripture. He maintained that the grace of God,[270] and an inward experience of religion, were alone requisite for saving souls.[272] And the irrational declaration of this singular individual (who, however, it is only just to say, declared his willingness to sacrifice his office in support of his views) was coupled with the most vehement denunciation of University statutes, school divinity, and academic dress—of caps and scarlet robes, gloves, rings, kisses, doctrinal dinners, and music—and of the Cambridge "prevaricator," so like, he said, to the Oxford "Terræ filius." Diplomas he lightly esteemed, and drew an irreverent comparison and contrast between school degrees and Christ's degrees—meaning by the latter our Lord's sonship, unction, victory over temptation, teaching of the Word, and the like; in which respects Christians are to be conformed to their Master, taking their degrees in the school of spiritual discipleship.[273] In connection with[271] Dell's attack upon University studies may be mentioned the publications of John Webster, in 1653, entitled "The Saint's Guide," and "Academiarum Examen," works in which the author enforced "the same principles as were advocated by Dell," and that "not without some shrewdness and ability." The "Examen" was answered by two Oxford men, Wilkins and Ward. Webster had been educated at Cambridge, and he, together with William Erbery, a Baptist preacher of considerable talents, held a public discussion in the October of 1653, "at a church in Lombard-street, against the establishment of the Universities and the maintenance of a national clergy."[274]

Excitement and habits of free speech would produce a good deal of extravagant talk in the University, and reports—sometimes inaccurate—would reach the ears of persons in authority. Cromwell heard that blasphemy and Atheism were uttered at Cambridge. He made enquiries. Evidence on the point against a person named Akehurst, vice-master of Trinity, having been collected by Dr. Lazarus Seaman and Dr. John Arrowsmith, they reported the facts to his Highness.[275] But a friend, in defence, wrote the following remarkable letter:—

"May it please your Highness—To receive my report concerning Mr. Akehurst, vice-master of Trinity-college, who is accused before thee of Atheism and blasphemy, &c. Mr. Akehurst is a man known to myself, who hath been of late in great troubles both of body and mind,[272] and his ease and refreshment hath not been comparable to the misery he hath endured, so that my very soul hath mourned over him. And what will not a man say sometimes in the bitterness and anguish of his spirit, when the arrows of the Almighty stick fast in his sides, especially when the torment of his mind hath been such sometimes, that he could give no account whence it proceeded, nor whither it tended, it being occasioned by no foregoing thoughts, which might disturb his soul? Mr. Akehurst is one whose soul cannot be satisfied with blind tradition in the things of God, and therefore has travailed to find out a reason of His ways by reading, meditation, by discourse with men; and finding them weak and insufficient, and sometimes not favouring their own discourse, hath in the anguish of his spirit reproached their shortness, parrot-language, in such expressions as seem to reflect upon God, whereas it might be but a charging of their apprehensions, misconceptions, scantness, unsavouriness, &c. I am persuaded that whatsoever proceeded from Mr. Akehurst, was not to wound or weaken the true faith of any; but an earnest desire to receive satisfaction himself, and withal to shake all presumptuous and careless faith, which produced nothing; not to withdraw any from God, but settle himself and others on more rational foundations. All the course of his life, of late, hath been a perpetual breathing after complete satisfaction, that he might justify God in all his proceedings; so that he hath been wholly careless of his credit, if so be any whereof he might find rest to his soul. These things have I written, not that I would excuse any levity of spirit, or lavishness of humour, which sometimes probably might possess him; but all things being considered, the bruised reed may not be broken, nor the smoking flax quenched. The Lord direct thy Highness[273] to steer betwixt, and to judge aright. Thus have I declared my mind. Let not my folly in this address, if there be any, be prejudicial to another; for this paper proceeded from me alone.

"My Lord, I call to witness the living God, that I desire, not that any contempt of his Majesty may not pass unreproved, or any slighting of his truths, but that there may be a due balancing of things, that the glory of God may suffer on no hand; and therefore have I writ with much fear, lest I should be found a liar for either party. The Lord make you as wise as Solomon!"[276]

John Evelyn, whom we have seen at Oxford, also visited Cambridge, and has left us notes of the state in which he found the University. He describes St. John's as being an edifice well built of brick, and having the best library of any of the colleges, with ornaments of pietra commessa (marble inlaid of various colours), and containing amongst its curiosities "a vast old song book" and other MSS., and a portrait of Archbishop Williams. Trinity was renowned for its quadrangle, which our diarist, however, considered inferior to that of Christ Church, Oxford, although he acknowledged that the fountain was graceful, and that the chapel and library were fair: the illuminated MSS. and the other antiquities greatly interested the Royalist visitor. King's College Chapel, with its groined stone roof, answered his expectation. Clare Hall, of "new and noble design," but "not finished;" Peter House having "a delicate chapel;" the fine college of[274] Sidney; Catherine Hall, "a mean structure;" Emanuel, a "zealous house;" Jesus College, "one of the best built, but in a melancholy situation; and" Christ's College, the modern part, of "exact architecture," are all noticed: but Cambridge evidently was eclipsed in Evelyn's estimation by the glories of his own Alma Mater. He pronounces the schools "despicable," the public library "mean:" but he has a word of praise for the market-place of the town, and for "old Hobson, the pleasant carrier's beneficence of a fountain."[277]

After what has been said of John Dell, no one can form a favourable idea of the state of Caius College under his administration. But other heads of Houses were persons of a very different stamp. Dr. Thomas Hill, master of Trinity, and Dr. John Arrowsmith, master of St. John's, were both old-fashioned Puritans. Both were decidedly Presbyterian. Both were Evangelical and devout, and both, fired with religious zeal, were anxious for the spiritual welfare of the University. Neither of them, perhaps, possessed much scholarship or any refinement of taste, and their quaint writings, long since forgotten, seem to be such as the most intense admirers of quaintness could hardly read now-a-days with any interest—yet they alike encouraged theological studies, and valued learning as an indispensable pre-requisite for a good Divine. Dr. Lazarus Seaman, also a Pres[275]byterian—who had succeeded Dr. Cosin as master of Peter House—appears from Wood's testimony to have been skilled in Oriental languages, in casuistry, and in the history of ecclesiastical controversies. He had even won favour from Charles I., when attending him in the Isle of Wight, as one of the Parliamentary Commissioners. Dr. Tuckney, another Presbyterian—who had succeeded Dr. Holdsworth in the mastership of Emanuel, and afterwards Dr. Arrowsmith in the mastership of St. John's—when exhorted to have regard to the godly in his elections, replied, with a dash of humour—"No one should have greater regard to the truly godly than himself, but he was determined to choose none but scholars; adding, they may deceive me in their godliness, they cannot in their scholarship."[278] The number of Presbyterians at Cambridge, as compared with Oxford, is accounted for by the fact that the change at Cambridge occurred at the beginning of the wars, when the Presbyterians were in power, and that the change at Oxford took place at the end of the wars, when the Independents were in the ascendant. Under the circumstances, Oxford would naturally be more of an Independent, and Cambridge more of a Presbyterian University.

Dr. Minshall, a Conformist at the Restoration—chosen, according to the statutes, master of Sidney, on the death of Dr. Ward—held that post for life with a high reputation. Dr. Simpson, as master of Pembroke, acquitted himself with a love of learning, and a zeal for godliness corresponding with his oration at the commencement of 1653; he died in 1658 with joy befitting his holy life.

The college presidents at Cambridge during the Commonwealth best known to fame are Witchcot, Lightfoot, and Cudworth.

[276]

On the ejection of Dr. Collins—who would not take the Engagement—Dr. Witchcot became provost of King's. Neither a Presbyterian, nor an Independent, he held Episcopal views, with extreme moderation; and afterwards conformed to the Church of the Restoration, as he did to the Church of the Commonwealth. He had never sworn to the Covenant; he probably looked upon the Engagement simply as a bond of political submission; and on the whole, he seems to have belonged to the class of persons who do not hold the Divine right of any particular form of ecclesiastical government, but decide that question upon grounds of expediency;—adopting what they consider to be the best practical method for propagating the principles and promoting the morals of Christianity. The few posthumous publications of this Divine, collected by his admirers, are not sufficient to support his fame, which arose no doubt from his preaching and conversation, his candour and catholicity, his amiableness and benevolence. Witchcot's reputation is a striking example of the power of personal influence. "He had great credit," says Burnet, writing many years afterwards, "with some that had been eminent in the late times, but made all the use he could of it to protect good men of all persuasions. He was much for liberty of conscience; and being disgusted with the dry, systematical way of those times, he studied to raise those who conversed with him to a nobler set of thoughts, and to consider religion as a seed of a deiform nature (to use one of his own phrases). In order to this he set young students much on reading the ancient philosophers, chiefly Plato, Tully, and Plotinus; and on considering the Christian religion as a doctrine sent from God, both to elevate and sweeten human nature, in which he was a great example, as well as a[277] wise and kind instructor."[279] A man must have had some extraordinary qualities to produce such influence, and to create such a reputation, leaving them behind for years afterwards surrounded by such a lustrous halo.

Dr. Brownrigg had been ejected from Catherine Hall as a non-Covenanter, and Dr. Spurstow, who had succeeded him there, was subsequently dismissed for refusing to take the Engagement.[280] The vacancy thus occasioned was supplied by the appointment to it of Dr. Lightfoot. Lightfoot, who has been already mentioned as one of the Assembly of Divines, surpassed both his predecessors at Catherine Hall in depth of learning and literary repute. Whilst his Erastian opinions would remove difficulties out of the way of his submission to the changes which occurred in the government of the Church and the University—his extraordinary attainments as a Rabbinical scholar, and the wide range of his general knowledge, eminently fitted him for the high scholastic position which he attained at Cambridge. Perhaps no other Englishman ever possessed such a consummate acquaintance with the whole range of Hebrew and Biblical literature, so far as it existed in his own time; and although his works bear a somewhat varied and fragmentary appearance, and include questions of chronology, as well as enquiries into texts and versions, comments and paraphrases—they all relate more or less to that which was the great object of his life—a harmony of the four Evangelists, and the elucidation of the sacred narrative from the writings of the Rabbis. We are not aware of any other writer who[278] has done so much in the same way to aid the study of the New Testament.[281]

The brilliant reputation of Dr. Cudworth—who succeeded the Episcopalian Dr. Pask—in the mastership of Clare Hall, and who afterwards held the mastership of Christ's college, is almost enough, in some respects, to eclipse the lustre of the other two. Like his contemporary, Lightfoot, he addicted himself much to the study of Hebrew antiquities, having been in the year 1645 chosen Regius Professor of Hebrew; and, also like both Lightfoot and Witchcot, he entertained very broad views of ecclesiastical polity; but his unrivalled acquaintance with Plato and the Platonists, and with the Alexandrian philosophers and fathers, was a peculiar distinction which has made him a sign and a wonder ever since. His "Intellectual System" is a marvel in literature. Yet, strange to say, though it be the most patient sifting Atheism ever received, this book from its candour, and its honest scrutiny into everything which can be advanced against the fundamental truth of all religion, brought upon the author the most cruel and absurd attacks—attacks which proceeded so far that he was even charged with holding the very Atheism which his prodigious powers and resources had been employed to overturn. This unrighteous controversy however, is, after all, but a specimen of the blinding fury which even in our own day inspires certain persons—as ignorant as they are honest—in their championship of orthodoxy, and in their suspicion of error. It also illustrates the prejudice and malignity often existing in the hearts of bigots against persons, who with the deepest[279] convictions of truth, combine a candid disposition, a tolerant temper, and a charitable judgment of their adversaries.

At the same time there existed at Cambridge a noted band, including men of great learning, intellect, and piety—who sympathized with Lightfoot, Witchcot, and Cudworth—especially with the last two, in their more select studies, and in their most generous sentiments. Simon Patrick, Fellow of Queen's, was a man whom the turn of his mind—though more devout and practical than speculative—did not prevent from appreciating and admiring the endowments and culture of his more gifted friends. Henry More—the Platonist and mystic, and a disciple of Descartes, with his "Song of the Soul," and his "Conjectura Cabalistica"—written at the request of a Quaker—full of admiration for Pythagoras—remained Fellow and Tutor in Christ's college, although he was offered the mastership of that foundation before it fell to the lot of Cudworth. But in the same direction, John Smith, fellow of Queen's, went far beyond Simon Patrick and Henry More—combining as he did much of the practical piety of the first, with all the speculative genius of the second. His sermons are extraordinary productions, full of deep and comprehensive thought; which, whilst tinged with mysticism, are truly Evangelical, and eminently adapted to build up a holy life.

Burnet remarks respecting the individuals whom we have named, "All these, and those who were formed under them, studied to examine further into the nature of things than had been done formerly. They declared against superstition on the one hand, and enthusiasm on the other. They loved the constitution of the Church, and the Liturgy, and could well live under them. But they did not think it unlawful to live under another form. They[280] wished that things might have been carried with more moderation. And they continued to keep a good correspondence with those who had differed from them in opinion, and allowed a great freedom both in philosophy and in divinity. From whence they were called men of latitude, and upon this, men of narrower thoughts and fiercer tempers fastened upon them the name of Latitudinarians. They read Episcopius much; and the making out the reasons of things being a main part of their studies—their enemies called them Socinians. They were all very zealous against Popery. And so, they becoming soon very considerable, the Papists set themselves against them to decry them as Atheists, Deists, or at best Socinians."[282]

It is curious to find such men in the very heart of a Puritan age. They were founders of a new order of religious thought, new, at least, in reference to the mental habits in general of that period. They did not assail Puritanism, nor, indeed, assume an attitude of opposition to other good men of any class—they preferred to build up rather than to pull down, to heal rather than to wound; but certainly their sympathies did not run in Puritan lines. They appreciated the eminent piety of many contemporaries of that school, and they lived with them upon terms of friendship; but, for their own part, they maintained broader views of theology than did their brethren. Their interest in the study of Plato and Plotinus, and their elevation of what is moral over what is merely intellectual gave to their method of enquiry, and to the conclusions which they reached, a certain cast, which plainly distinguished them from the kind of teaching found in the Westminster[281] Confession, and in the standard works of the Puritan Divines.

Differences have always obtained in the mode of contemplating Christianity, according with various types of mind and with various descriptions of culture and circumstances. Aristotelian and Platonic forms of thought, so obvious in theological history, are amongst its common facts; and when we recollect that such forms are the inevitable consequences of original varieties in the intellectual nature of mankind, they appear also to belong to its greatest mysteries. Occasionally overlooked, even by philosophers, and habitually forgotten by controversialists, the remembrance of them is so important, that if forgotten, the changes and collisions which occur in the progress of theological enquiry—whether in primitive, mediæval, or modern times—must remain unintelligible. And the spectacle of the logical dogmatist on the one hand, and the sentimental mystic on the other, deriving different impressions from the same object—and then looking each other in the face, with expressions of marvellous surprise, that they cannot both see one and the same thing in one and the same way—can never be explained by those who do not keep before them the fact just noticed. As there were different ineradicable idiosyncracies in Clement and Tertullian, in Origen and Augustine, in Bernard and Abelard, in Bonaventura and Thomas Aquinas, in John Tauler and John Calvin—so there were idiosyncracies equally ineradicable in John Smith and John Owen, in Ralph Cudworth and in Richard Baxter. The influence of circumstances in reference to the Cambridge school coincided with the intellectual character of the members, and contributed to the development of its theological peculiarities. Early education, the stimulus derived from other minds, in[282] some respects very different, and the reactions consequent upon the unfolding of tendencies to their furthest extreme, are all to be reckoned amongst the factors of religious opinion. The theology of the men to whom we now refer was partly the result of that training which they had received in Greek philosophy, and which had formed part of the Cambridge system in their early days[283]; and of that study of the Greek fathers, which had been promoted, perhaps, by the example of Andrewes; partly, also, it was a reaction both against the stiff ritualism of the Laudian party, and against the rigid and severe doctrinalism of the Puritans. A good example of what constituted the pith of the teaching which we have briefly noticed, occurs in an introduction to "Smith's Select Discourses," written by his friend, Dr. John Worthington.[284]

Godliness he explains as signifying "infinitely more than a power to dispute with heat and vehemency about some opinions, or to discourse volubly about some matters in religion, and in such forms of words as are taking with the weak and unskilful; more than a power to pray without a form of words; for these and the like may be, and frequently are done by the formal and unspiritual Christian; more than a power to deny themselves in some things that are easy to part with, and do not much cross their inclinations, their self-will, their corrupt designs and interests, nor prejudice their dear and more beloved lusts and pleasures, their profitable and advantageous[283] sins; and more than a power to observe some lesser and easier commands, or to perform an outward obedience arising out of slavish fear, void of inward life and love, and a complacency in the law of God." And further, he dwells with delight on "the mighty acts and noble achievements of the more excellent, though less ostentatious Christians, who, through faith in the goodness and power of God, have been 'enabled to do all things through Christ, knowing both how to abound, and how to be abased;' enabled to overcome the world without them, and the love of the world within them; enabled to overcome themselves—and for a man 'to rule his own spirit' is a greater instance of power and valour than 'to take a city,' as Solomon judgeth;—enabled to resist the powers of darkness, and to quit themselves like men and good soldiers of Jesus Christ—giving many signal overthrows to those lusts that war against their souls, and to the mightiest and strongest of them, the sons of Anak; and by engaging in the hardest services of this spiritual warfare, wherein the Pharisaical boasters dare not follow them, they shew that there is a spirit of power in them, and that they can do more than others."[285]

Yet, whilst we are quite disposed to do justice to these admirable individuals, we cannot but discover in the later effects of their example some things which must be exceedingly deplored. Their breadth of charity was followed by an amount of latitudinarianism with which they themselves were not chargeable. And their attempts to determine and establish the higher position of what is moral, in comparison with what is intellectual in Church life and in Church creeds, led ultimately to an inexcusable neglect of the distinctive doctrines of Christianity. The[284] profitableness of virtue, and the reasonableness of religion, became the all-absorbing themes. Hard, dry Rationalism, bearing a Christian name, with never-ending discussions on evidences, appears throughout the first half of the eighteenth century as a development of the weak side of the Cambridge divinity in the seventeenth.

Between this and the Oxford theology of the Commonwealth period, a remarkable contrast presents itself. The most distinguished Oxford Divines then were Owen and Goodwin. Howe—who in genius and feeling was far less remote than they were from Cudworth and Smith, and who possessed a still nobler intellect, and also presented a life of still rarer beauty than either of his fellow Independents—was but a young man at the time of which we speak, and could exercise no such influence as belonged to the Dean of Christ Church and the President of Magdalen. The theology of these two Divines was Puritan to the core, and whilst betraying Puritan defects, it exhibited, in a high degree, Puritan excellencies. It sometimes assigned to a really subordinate theory the place belonging to a supremely important fact; it failed to distinguish adequately between Divine premises and human inferences; also it was deficient in sympathy with pure thought, spiritual desire, and honest endeavours after goodness beyond its own circle; and it lacked that breadth of sympathy which was cultivated by the Cambridge worthies, which redounded so much to their honour. But then let it be remembered, that on the part of the Oxford Puritans there existed a loyalty to that which is peculiar, and characteristic in the Gospel of Christ—a loyalty which redeemed their worst weaknesses. They loved the Gospel as a message of free mercy to the children of Adam, as a revelation of redeeming grace through the mystery of the cross; and they dwelt largely, emphatically,[285] and in a way not to be misunderstood, upon what makes the New Testament a book of life and joy to conscience-stricken men. And the veins of gold running through their works rendered them a mine of wealth a hundred years afterwards, when people impoverished by Rationalism flocked to it as to a spiritual California. Indeed, the Methodism ultimately fixed outside the establishment by Whitefield and the two Wesleys—who were all three nurtured at Oxford—was largely dug out of Puritan beds of Christian ore. In the largest measure, and in the directest way, this was the case with Whitefield's theology. With respect to John Wesley, although Oxford Puritanism was not without influence upon his mind, yet that influence was less direct than it seems to have been in the history of his Calvinistic friend, and in Wesley's case it was certainly mixed with powerful ingredients which were derived from Cambridge sources. The school of Divines just noticed stood high in his estimation,[286] and he was affected by them not only through the perusal of their writings, but likewise through the medium of an eminent disciple of theirs—William Law, who was one of Wesley's personal friends.

Still more decidedly the Evangelicalism of the last century fostered within the establishment by Romaine, and Berridge, and Venn, was derived from the influence of Owen and his companions; and thus defects attaching to the theology which had sprung up at Cambridge were supplied by the theology which had been cherished and promoted at Oxford. Too long these schools of thought have stood apart. Is not the time come for uniting evangelical faith and zeal, as decided and fervent as were those of Owen and Good[286]win, with a sympathy for all truth—with a recognition of the relations of Christianity to the entire universe of thought—with a catholic charity in judging other men—and with an estimate of the supremacy of spiritual goodness, in no respect less broad, but in every respect more healthy than that which prevailed in some of the colleges within the University of Cambridge two hundred years ago?

We shall terminate, without endeavouring to complete the list of Cambridge notabilities, by simply mentioning Edward Stillingfleet, Fellow of St. John's, afterwards Bishop of Worcester; David Clarkson, Fellow of Clare, an eminent Nonconformist Divine; John Tillotson, who succeeded Clarkson in his Fellowship, and at last attained the Primacy; Francis Holcroft, another Fellow on the same foundation, occupying, along with Tillotson, a chamber over the college gate—and distinguished alike by his attainments and by his sufferings for conscience' sake; John Ray, the well-known naturalist, Fellow of Trinity; and William Cave, the author of "Primitive Christianity," who graduated in the year 1656, and who died Canon of Windsor.

A new University was attempted. The Grand Jury of the county of Durham, at the summer assizes in the year 1650, presented a petition to Parliament, praying that lands of the Dean and Chapter not then sold might be granted for founding a college of students in that city. After the winter assizes of 1651-2, another petition from the Grand Jury was dispatched to Westminster, pressing the subject upon the attention of the legislature. The project went to sleep a while; and then, in the year 1656, Oliver Cromwell—who had from the first favoured the plan, in spite of characteristic remonstrances from George Fox—issued an ordinance for a collegiate[287] establishment in the Palatinate. The credit of the suggestion is due to gentlemen of the county: the merit of proceeding to carry it into effect to the Lord Protector. Lambert, Montague, and Rouse—a Committee of his Highness's council—had recommended the scheme as of great advantage to the northern parts of England, both in reference to promoting the preaching of the Gospel, and the wise education of young men; and in accordance with the recommendation, the ordinance ordained and appointed the institution under the name of the Master or Provost, Fellows and Scholars of the College in Durham, of the foundation of Oliver, Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. It was to occupy the site of the Deanery, Prebendal houses, Cathedral Church, and Castle, and to continue a College for ever. The charter authorized one Provost, two Preachers or senior Fellows, and twelve other Fellows—four to be Professors, four to be Tutors, four to be Schoolmasters. Moreover, it created twenty-four scholarships. Philip Hunton was nominated Provost, and was to receive above £200 per annum out of the rich Rectory of Sedgefield, in the Bishopric of Durham, besides holding the living of Westbury, in Wilts, whence he was ejected in 1662. A concise treatise, "Concerning Monarchy," published by this person in the year 1643, entitles him, in the estimation of some, to be considered a worthy precursor of Sidney and Locke—of which, at least, this proof appears, that the book was burnt in the school quadrangle of Oxford in 1683.[287] To William Spinage, Fellow of Exeter, Oxford—"a good Divine," "a great philosopher and disputant,"[288] and "a man of much integrity and zeal"—and to Joseph Hill, Fellow of Magdalen, Cambridge—a popular tutor, and a zealous Proctor—were assigned the positions of first Preachers or senior Fellows. Thomas Vaughan, John Kister, Robert Wood, and John Peachil—all University graduates—were to be the first four Professors. Nathaniel Vincent—pronounced by Wood a "considerable scholar," described by Calamy as serious, humble, godly, of sober principles, and great zeal and diligence, and known as the author of several practical treatises—was appointed one of the first four Schoolmasters.[288]

The Cathedral Church, Churchyard, and Free School, with the unsold estates of the Dean and Chapter, and an annual revenue, in addition, of £900 out of certain manors, rectories, and impropriations, constituted the endowment. Moreover, the library of books, the manuscripts, and the mathematical and other instruments belonging to the Cathedral were made over to the same institution. The Provost, Fellows, and Scholars were to be a Corporation for purchasing and holding property, having a common seal, and to be governed by laws made by the Lord Protector and his Council. The ordinance gives a long list of visitors, including Sir Thomas Widdrington, Speaker of the House of Commons, Lords Fairfax, Grey, Wharton, and Falconbridge, Sir Henry Vane, and Sir Arthur Haselrig. Amongst the clerical visitors occur the names of the eminent Edward Bowles of York, and of Richard Gilpin—a name of great honour in the north. Like Bernard Gilpin, who was of the same family, he refused the bishopric of Carlisle, and like that illustrious preacher and parish priest, he was preeminent for pastoral diligence and for pulpit elo[289]quence.[289] The Corporation of the College was empowered to set up "a printing press and a rolling press," and to buy "paper, iron, tin, and letters," free of customs. The right was granted of printing Bibles, and of licensing books for publication, together with the monopoly of all works issuing from their press. The Provost, Fellows, and Scholars were to be exempt from "watching, warding, or mustering, or any hue and cry," and from all civic and rural offices, from that of mayor down to that of scavenger. They were also exempted from all customs, and their horses were not subjected to any liability—as the charter expresses it—"to ride post." The instrument bears date the 15th of May, 1657.[290] The next year Oliver Cromwell died, upon which came a petition to the Protector Richard, praying that he would complete what his father had begun. But opposition arose on the part of Oxford and Cambridge. They petitioned against a third University, and especially against conferring degrees—which, by the way, is a power not mentioned in any part of Oliver's ordinance. The whole project of course fell to the ground at the Restoration.

Sir William Petty, in a letter to Hartlib, Milton's friend, proposed a third University in the Metropolis, and also a school for all classes—none to be excluded by reason of the poverty and inability of their parents; "for hereby," says the writer, "many are now holding the plough which might have been made fit to steer the State."[291] The unsuccessful schemes of the Common[290]wealth have been accomplished, to some extent, in our own time, in the Durham and London Universities, and it is to the credit of the men of that day that they anticipated the wisdom of posterity.

Before closing this chapter, we may glance at certain ancient foundations in which religion was blended with chivalry and with education. The order of the Garter disappeared. One of the Canons of St. George's Chapel, Windsor, in the reign of James I., had dwelt with intense admiration upon its worship and service. God was there daily and continually served—said this writer in a spirit of amazing superstition—like a God with the greatest magnificence, and with all means of devotion, such as music and outward ceremonies. The knights had made solemn vows for the protection of the Church, and the relief of orphans and widows. There the grounds of their courage and fortitude were laid, and with sacrifices of silver and gold, they offered their hearts to the Most High. Thus the Canon painted in glowing colours the installations which he had witnessed in the gorgeous chapel within the castle precincts—not forgetting to notice the blue coats and chains of gold worn by the attendants. Indeed, it had been a display little in harmony with Protestantism, and it all vanished like "the baseless fabric of a vision" under the touch of the Presbyterian Parliament.[292] Deans, Canons, Minor Canons, and Clerks were ejected, with only liberty left "to carry forth all their goods, utensils, household[291] stuffs, and books to their several abodes." The furniture and decorations of the Chapel were seized; Edward the Fourth's coat of mail, with its gold, and pearls, and rubies, being amongst the most valuable portions of the spoil. The church plate, handed over to the treasury at Guildhall, went into the melting pot, and was coined into money to pay the soldiers. The sacred edifice, cleansed of "all such matters as are justly offensive to godly men," was used for a lecture, set up "to be exercised every Lord's Day, in the afternoon, to begin when other sermons usually end, and one day in the week." Yet after this ecclesiastical revolution so little was the building injured, that, when one June day in 1654, Evelyn and his wife drove down to Windsor in a coach and four, he alluded in his Diary to "the church and workmanship in stone" as "admirable."

The old public schools of England,—whose glory it is to unite Christian instruction with classical learning—were ecclesiastical foundations; and these, under the rule of Parliament, and during the reign of the Protector, met with little interruption and sustained no real injury. Eton, after a temporary suspension of its statutes, had, in the year 1645, its former usages restored; and the election of scholars then recommenced "in manner as had theretofore been accustomed."[293] Francis Rouse—who translated the Psalter into English verse, who was one of the Protector's Council, who became Speaker of the Little Parliament, and who obtained a seat in Cromwell's House of Lords—had been Provost of the College from the time of the ejection of Dr. Stewart in the year 1644. Rouse died in 1658, and was buried at Eton with much pomp. Upon the consequent occurrence of a[292] vacancy, Whitelocke, then Constable of Windsor Castle, by the advice of his friends, endeavoured to secure the vacant office—which he described as "a thing of good value, quiet and honourable, and fit for a scholar;" but on applying to his Highness, the candidate found the place reserved as "a bait for some others."[294] Nicholas Lockyer, an Oxford man, one of Oliver's chaplains, received the appointment.

The election of scholars at Westminster had, in the year 1645, been vested in Commissioners, and also in the Master of the school, the Master of Trinity, Cambridge, and the Dean of Christ Church, Oxford—if "the said Dean were not a delinquent." The ordinance would give to Dr. Owen, when he presided over Christ Church, the rights with regard to the school which had been exercised by such dignitaries of old. In the Act of April, 1649, for the sale of ecclesiastical property, the foundations of Westminster, Winchester, and Eton were expressly excepted from its operation.[295] The old Westminster school-room, with its chesnut roof—which once covered the dormitory of the monks of St. Peter—had its rows of boys (Puritans amongst the rest), under the tuition of Puritan teachers, occupying the forms and studying their Latin primers, as in days of yore. The then Head Master, appointed about 1639, was no other than the famous Richard Bushy, whose portrait—reminding one a little of the spare-looking but keen-eyed Richard Baxter—still adorns the Deanery. There he wielded his ferule for fifty-seven years, not sparing the rod lest he should spoil the child.[296] One of his under-masters was the[293] once well-known but now forgotten Edward Bagshawe, an Oxford student, who had shewn himself a turbulent and domineering person, not only in his college, but in the University—where he disturbed the Vice-Chancellor "with interposed speeches without formalities, and with his hat cocked," in which guise he was wont to read his catechetical lecture. But Master Richard Busby would not allow in office such a "pragmatical and ungrateful" personage, and therefore "outed" him in 1658, when Littleton, a Christ Church man, was put in his room.[297] The revenues of the public schools of England were more or less affected by the disturbances of the period, but in other respects they seem to have held on the even tenor of their way.

CHAPTER XII.

Cromwell's establishment excluded Prelacy, but it did not altogether exclude Prelatists. It was possible for them to hold parish livings. The use of the Prayer Book, the performance of Episcopal rites, and the exercise of diocesan superintendence were disallowed. Still, those who approved of such things could preach if the Triers permitted. Not a few must have accepted this abridged freedom, otherwise we could not account for the large proportion of clerical conformists at the period of the Restoration. Numbers had no very decided opinions in matters relating to Church government and forms of worship; but some persons of fixed views—on the principle of not doing what they felt to be unscriptural, only omitting what under other circumstances they would have gladly performed—were anxious still to labour as parish pastors for the good of souls. The Episcopal Clergy who remained in the Establishment, without in any way professing Presbyterianism, may be divided into two classes.

I. Those who, notwithstanding the law against it, continued to use more or less of the Book of Common Prayer. George Bull, afterwards Bishop of St. David's, was a distinguished individual of this class. Having received orders as deacon and priest the same day from[295] the hands of Dr. Skinner—the ejected Bishop of Oxford, who after his ejectment continued to perform the rite of ordination—this young man, then only twenty-one, settled at St. George's, near Bristol, upon an income of £30 a year. By his preaching, his prudence, and his charities, he is said to have won the favour of Quakers, and "other wild sectaries," and even to have reclaimed some from their "pernicious errors." Stories are told of his notes being blown out of the Bible over the Church, amidst the laughter of the congregation; and of his adroitly turning the circumstance to account by proceeding with his sermon extempore. Another anecdote is related of his being interrupted by a Quaker, with whom he expostulated so calmly, that the people lost all patience, and would have fallen violently on the poor delinquent, had not the preacher come down from the pulpit to save him from their assaults. He constantly repeated the common prayers without referring to the book; thereby, it is said, exciting admiration even in some who counted the prohibited volume a beggarly element, and a carnal performance. Nelson, his biographer, speaks of his diligence in visiting his flock, in instructing the ignorant, in comforting the afflicted, and in correcting the erring. He seems even to have kept up some sort of parish discipline;—summoning to a conference those who absented themselves from communion and worship, and engaging in controversy with those who seduced any of his parishioners. Bull aimed at doing in the parish of St. George's, after the Episcopalian type, what Baxter did at Kidderminster, after the "Presbyterian way," and, on the whole, he appears to have been successful.[298]

[296]

John Hacket, afterwards Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, was allowed for a time to read the Common Prayer at Cheam, to the living of which he had been presented through the interest of the Lord Keeper Williams. At length the Surrey Committee required him to forbear using the forbidden formulary, "when he found himself under the necessity of omitting such parts as were most offensive to the Government."[299] After this limited measure of interference, he continued to hold his living.

Mr. Barksdale, an Episcopalian, held the living of Sudeley Manor, in Gloucestershire—the burial place of Catherine Parr. His employment of the Liturgy, and his method of proceeding with reference to the Lord's Supper, appear in a tract of the period, which, because it affords an example of the public discussions then common, deserves the reader's notice. Mr. Helme, who seems to have been a Fifth Monarchy Baptist, held the neighbouring vicarage of Winchcomb, and between these neighbours a controversy arose. Lists for the combatants were prepared in Winchcomb church, and a large congregation assembled within the battlemented walls of that edifice to witness the ecclesiastical tournament. The Episcopalian begged the Baptist to allow him "to stand in his pue," that he "might be seen and heard the better, and be free from the crowd;" a request not granted, as the Baptist wanted "the pue for himself." He entered at the appointed time, attended "by a justice of the peace" and three other friends. His opponent had "a pue in opposito," which he had "caused to be erected." The incumbent of Winchcomb had gathered a church out of the parish, and the point mooted by his neighbour of[297] Sudeley was, "Whether it be lawful to minister and receive the Holy Sacrament in congregations called mixed?" Barksdale maintained the affirmative; but, in the progress of debate, admitted the propriety of doing—without sanction of the rubric—what resembled the Presbyterian practice of "fencing the table." The congregation of his hearers, he confessed, was mixed, not so the company of his communicants. His practice was, after certain preparations, to repeat aloud, when the sacrament was to be administered, "all that are not prepared depart, you that are prepared stay." After some had departed, the rest he looked upon as prepared. The question of Episcopacy also came under discussion. Mr. Barksdale maintained, very fairly, that "the ministers of the Church of England and the good people adhering to them ought to hold their assemblies without disturbance"—and that "the new men should allow to others equal liberty with themselves, remembering that Englishmen were living under a free Commonwealth." From the tract it seems that some people threatened to proceed against Mr. Barksdale for using the Common Prayer, and for other offences.[300]

Peter Gunning, afterwards Bishop of Ely, read the Liturgy in the Chapel at Exeter House, and "asserted the cause of the Church of England with great pains and courage, when the Parliament was most predominant."[301] He was allowed "a contention for the truth" (1658) in two public disputations with Henry Denn, on infant baptism, before thousands of people, in the church of St. Clement Danes—and, with the assistance of Dr.[298] Pearson, he had a conference with two Romanists, reported by them in a pamphlet entitled, "Schism Unmasked." Wood remarks that there was no considerable sect with which Gunning did not dispute; yet he met with no interference, beyond the Protector's rebuke, and an occasional disturbance whilst he was conducting liturgical worship.[302]

William Parsons, Rector of Birchanger, suffered under the Presbyterians, and was kept in jail nineteen weeks for his loyalty to Charles I., but afterwards he returned to his living, and usually read the Common Prayer during the Protectorate.[303] Notwithstanding his Episcopalianism, he was created Doctor of Laws at Oxford under Owen's Vice-Chancellorship.

II. The second-class of Episcopalians in the Establishment were those who held office without using the formularies of their Church.

Pearson was lecturer at St. Clement's, Eastcheap, and it was there that he delivered the discourses which formed the substance of his noble Text Book on the Creed. Farindon, less known, but worthy of being coupled with his famous contemporary, affords another instance of the same kind. Ejected from his Vicarage and from his divinity readership after the commencement of the civil wars, he, in the year 1647, became the Minister of St. Mary Magdalene, Milk Street. A second time he had to quit his preferment, and soon afterwards, he was a second time restored. The dates are uncertain, but Farindon is supposed by his biographer to have remained in his pastorate "from 1654 to 1658,[299] the year of his death."[304] During his forced retirement, a clerical friend twice occupied his pulpit, and made an eloquent appeal to the congregation on his behalf, telling them that such persons had been seen in that church "as were able to create a temple wheresoever they went—men, each of whom, single and alone, made up a full congregation, nay a synod;" so that some persons had not unfitly named that place "the scholars' church."[305] Hammond and Sanderson were the Divines referred to, and the passage indicates the high estimation in which Farindon's preaching was held—and justly so. A collection at the doors for the ejected minister followed each of these discourses, and the whole of what was contributed amounted to more than four hundred pounds—a sum then double in value what it would be at the present time. Upon his second restoration, he delivered a sermon, which was admirable for its ability, eloquence, and temper. He chose for his text, "Brethren, I beseech you, be as I am; for I am as ye are; ye have not injured me at all."[306]

The following account from a contemporary autobiography is interesting in connexion with Farindon:—I had usually frequented St. Gregory's, Dr. Mossam's, Dr. Wild's, Dr. Gunning's, or some other congregations where the orthodox clergy preached and administered the sacraments; but the soldiers often disturbing those congregations, it was not so convenient for my father to appear there. Coming into Milk Street church one Sunday, I found very few in it, but Mr. Robinson helped me to a seat, and there I heard Mr. Farindon, that excellent scholar and preacher. It was his first day.[300] Mr. Case had been there for some years, and the parishioners were now divided about a successor; some would have an Independent, others a Presbyterian, and there were several meetings and competitions, but no agreement, nor like to be; whereupon Mr. Robinson desired he might put one into the pulpit until they could agree; and said they should choose whether they should pay him or not. And so he got the pulpit and put Mr. Farindon into it, which he kept two or three years. I went home and told my father I had found a church where he might safely go, where was room enough, and where he might hear a most excellent orthodox preacher. My grandmother, Mrs. Moundeford, then dwelt in that parish; so the next Sunday my father and myself went thither, and Mr. Farindon preached again; my father's coach standing in the street near the church, gave occasion to some to look in, and in a short time the congregation so increased that it was very difficult to get a place.[307]

Farindon was an intimate friend of the memorable John Hales; and Aubrey, amidst his charming gossipings, enables us to picture the latter spending much of his time at Lady Salter's, at Eton, he having been a fellow of the College there. "He lodged, after his sequestration, at the next house, the Christopher Inn, where I saw him, a pretty little man, sanguine, of a cheerful countenance, very gentle and courteous. I was received by him with much humanity. He was in a kind of violet-coloured cloth gown, with buttons and loops, (he wore not a black gown), and was reading Thomas à Kempis; it was within a year before he deceased. He loved canary, but moderately, to refresh his spirits. He had a bountiful mind."[308]

[301]

Dr. Nathaniel Hardy—author of a somewhat famous Exposition of the first epistle of John, and an Episcopalian of the Puritan school—continued to minister in St. Dionysius Backchurch, in Fenchurch Street, one of the buildings destroyed by the Fire of London. He preached a funeral sermon upon the death of Charles I., and annually commemorated "the royal martyrdom." At his "loyal lecture," collections were made on behalf of the deprived clergy;[309] yet, notwithstanding his royalist sentiments, the bold preacher remained unmolested. Some of the episcopal clergy became chaplains, of which we have an interesting example in the life of Dr. Richard Sherlock, uncle of Dr. Wilson, the celebrated Bishop of Sodor and Man. Driven by the troubles of the time to seek shelter in Oxford, he afterwards found refuge in the family of Sir Robert Bradrosse, of Borwick, in Lancashire. There, as we learn from a memoir of him by his eminent kinsman, he proved his ministerial fidelity by rebuking the evils which he witnessed amongst the Royalists, and by expostulating with his patron. "He desired him to consider what injury he did to the distressed Church, for which he always expressed so commendable a zeal. He intimated to him that this was both the cause of her sufferings, and that which made her the scorn of her enemies, that her friends did her more dishonour than they could do her hurt; so that she may truly say, in the words of Zechariah, 'These are the wounds which I received in the house of my friends.'"[310]

There remained a number of Episcopalians who did not conform in any way to the new order of things. They were deprived of their preferments, and it will be[302] our endeavour now to trace their fortunes. We begin with the deprived prelates.

Godfrey Goodman, Bishop of Gloucester, died in the year 1655, after having run a remarkable career. It is said that an entry in a volume now in the Chapter Library at Gloucester corroborates the suspicion of his early leaning to Romanism.[311] As early as the year 1626 he found himself in trouble on account of a sermon he had preached, in which he had asserted the doctrine of the real presence. Perhaps the consciousness of his tendencies led him to wish to have a coadjutor in his episcopal office, and then eventually to resign his bishopric;—a wish which is made apparent in a letter written to him by Archbishop Laud, in the year 1634.[312] When the canons were submitted to the Convocation of 1640, he at first refused to sign them;[313] for which, as Fuller states, he was sent to the Gatehouse, where "he got by his restraint what he never could have gained by his liberty, namely, of one reputed popish, to become for a short time popular, as the only confessor suffering for not subscribing the canons."[314] Nalson says nothing respecting his imprisonment, but only mentions that Goodman refused a second and a third time, and then at last put his hand to the book, declining to say that he did so ex animo. Laud told him that his refusal proved him to be a Papist, or a Socinian, or a sectary. This conclusion he himself denied, but Nalson adds, it "proved true, for he died a Papist."[315]

[303]

A contrast to Goodman is found in Ussher. Upon his leaving Oxford, where last we met him, and his proceeding to visit Lady Stradling, at her Castle of St. Donate's, in Glamorganshire, there occurred to this eminent Divine an odd adventure, which indicates what must have been the state of the country and the circumstances of travelling at that period. The Welsh then being in a state of rebellion against English governors—as the ejected Primate of Ireland, with his daughter, were quietly riding along the road, they fell into the hands of some straggling insurgents, who dragged them from their horses, and stripped them of their baggage. Books and MSS. were wantonly strewed about the highway; but the respect in which the Prelate was held appears when we learn, that the neighbours from time to time brought back to him his scattered treasures, so that on their being put together he "found not many wanting."[316] Coming to London he filled the office of preacher at Lincoln's Inn, employing his leisure from public duty upon that wonderful monument of learning, his "Annals of the Old Testament,"—in which he unfolded a system of chronology, since widely adopted in the reformed churches. Cromwell sent for Ussher, and conversed with him upon the promotion of the Protestant religion at home and abroad; at the same time offering him a lease of certain lands pertaining to the see of Armagh. When failure of sight and other infirmities had unfitted the Bishop for preaching any longer, he resigned his office at Lincoln's Inn, and sought in seclusion the consolations of that Gospel which he had faithfully proclaimed. When Cromwell published his[304] ordinance against the Episcopalian clergy, they requested Ussher to employ his influence to mitigate the severity of his Highness's anger.[317] He succeeded at first in obtaining from the Protector a promise that the Episcopalians should be unmolested, if they did but quietly submit to the government of the Commonwealth, a promise which was as much as could be fairly expected; but, during a second interview, Cromwell confessed that his Council had advised him not to grant any indulgence to persons so implacably disaffected as the Episcopalians were, since it might prove very dangerous to the State. Anything which passed between two such men is interesting to posterity; and therefore a further story is preserved, to the effect, that Cromwell—suffering at the time from a boil—remarked to his right reverend visitor, "If this core were once out, I should be soon well." "I doubt the core lies deeper," is the reported reply. "There is a core in the heart which must be taken out, or else it will not be well." "Ah," rejoined the Protector, "so there is indeed." Supposing the story to be true, the self-application of such reproof did no less credit to Cromwell, than its honest administration did to Ussher. Leaving the smoke and bustle of London for the breezy downs and rural scenery of Reigate, the aged scholar there pursued his studies so far as failing strength permitted him; and, there, with a calm mind, joining in prayer with the chaplain of the Countess of Peterborough, he at once ended his days and his sorrows. The Protector ordered a public funeral for the deceased[305] Bishop, and contributed £200 towards the expenses—an order which, whatever might be the extra cost entailed by it upon his relatives, was intended as a mark of honour, and was so regarded by his friends and by the clergy of London. The latter followed the plumed hearse from Somerset House to Westminster Abbey, accompanied by a guard of soldiers and a vast concourse of people. Cromwell permitted the burial service of the Prayer Book to be used on the occasion, a circumstance which appears the more remarkable, when we recollect that it occurred just after the severest of all his measures against the Episcopal Church.[318]

The pious Joseph Hall—the English Seneca—after the "hard measure" meted out to him by Parliament, went to live in the hamlet of Heigham, just outside one of the gates of the old city, of which he had been Lord Bishop. There, in a rented house—now the little Elizabethan inn bearing the sign of the Dolphin[319]—he spent the remnant of his days in seclusion and poverty; suffering from strangury and stone; but bearing both his privations and his disease with the patience and magnanimity of Christian faith. His will, after bequeathing his soul to God, directed his body to be interred without any funeral pomp—with this "monition," that he did not hold God's house a meet repository for the bodies of the greatest saints: but his executors, whilst "admiring the lowly mind of the departed," buried him in the chancel of the little church; where the people of the hamlet still behold every Sunday his mural monument in black marble, bearing the figure of a gilt skeleton, which holds in its hand a scroll[306] inscribed with the admonitory words, "Debemus morti, nos, nostraque."

Morton, Bishop of Durham, a man of High Church views, had, in the height of the popular fury against Prelatists, been assailed, as he rode in his coach through the streets; and when some one remarked, "He is a good man," "No matter," the Polyphemus of the mob replied, "he is a Bishop." Eight hundred pounds a year was voted him by Parliament, which, however, as it is reported, was never paid; but he did receive the sum of one thousand pounds, with which he discharged his debts and purchased an annuity. He was turned out of his house in London just before the execution of Charles. Having lived awhile successively with old Royalist friends, including the Earl of Rutland, he travelled up one day to London, and was overtaken and joined on the road, in the friendly fashion of those times, by Sir Christopher Yelverton, who had some share in the humiliation of the Church. Ignorant of his travelling companion, the knight, as their horses ambled on side by side, asked the bishop who he was; the Bishop, having in this respect the advantage of the knight, replied, with a dash of brave Episcopal pride which rose above present humiliation, "I am that old man, the Bishop of Durham, notwithstanding all your votes." To the enquiry whither he went, he replied, "To London, to live a little while, and then die." The incident is worth relating, as a specimen of the kindly English feeling which in many an unknown case tempered party animosities. Sir Christopher entered into friendly discourse with the ejected Bishop, took him home to his seat in Northamptonshire, appointed him tutor to his son, and left his friendship as an heirloom to the pupil—who imbibed his tutor's love for Episcopacy, and in 1659[307] reverently closed the old man's eyes in his 95th year.[320]

Ralph Brownrigg, of Exeter—of whom, when made a Bishop, Fuller observes he was "defied by some who almost deified him before, in whose eyes he seemed the blacker for wearing white sleeves"—after losing his bishopric found shelter at Sonning, a pleasant little village on the banks of the Thames, not far from the town of Reading. There, in the hospitable mansion of Thomas Rich, he enjoyed respectful entertainment during the Protectorate; and about a year before his death received the appointment of preacher at the Temple. "The deserved opinion of his goodness," we are informed by Fuller, "had peaceable possession in the hearts of the Presbyterian party; and I observed at his funeral that the prime persons of all persuasions were present, whose judgments going several ways met all in a general grief for his decease. He was buried on the cost of both Temples, to his great but their greater honour."[321]

Thomas Winniffe,[322] who was a Bishop with Puritan predilections, and who was raised to the see of Lincoln at the beginning of the Church troubles—by way of conciliation, when it was too late—found little besides sorrow in the possession of his mitre. Driven from his house at Westminster he went to live at Lambourne, in Essex, "having formerly been the painful minister thereof;" and there he died in the year 1654, leaving a goodly reputation for piety and learning.

[308]

John Owen and Roger Manwaring, two Welsh bishops, the first of St. Asaph, the second of St. David's—like the rest of those just enumerated—died before the Restoration, Owen, in the year 1651, Manwaring, at Carmarthen, in 1653.[323]

The fortunes of the Bishops who survived the return of Charles the Second, and the re-establishment of Prelacy, demand a few notices. In the sequestered village of Langley, in the County of Bucks, King, Bishop of Chichester, spent some years at the seat of his brother-in-law, Sir Richard Hobart. Wren, "that bird of ill omen," driven from his nest at Ely, had to undergo some severe retaliation for past offences; and became so reduced in circumstances, that when his son took a degree at the University of Oxford in the year 1660, the father had not wherewith to pay the fees. Juxon, the amiable Metropolitan who attended Charles on the scaffold, retained the use of Fulham Palace up to the year 1647—"reserved, like Ulysses by the Cyclops, for the last morsel" and, after the Whitehall tragedy, he retired to his manor of Little Compton, in Gloucestershire, where he remained until the Restoration. Skinner, Bishop of Oxford, during the whole period of the Commonwealth enjoyed the Rectory of Launton, where he read prayers and conferred orders. Warner, Bishop of Rochester, a man of wealth—and, after compounding for his estates, pos[309]sessing a handsome residue—largely helped his suffering brethren, at the expense of some self-denial, which led him to say—for he was a man of humour with a little self-complacency—"that he did eat the crag ends of the neck of mutton himself, that he might leave the poor the shoulder." Brian Duppa, an ecclesiastic of moderate opinions, and a graceful courtier, who succeeded Davenant at Salisbury, spent some time at Richmond in solitude and devotion; but he availed himself of opportunities to preserve and revive the Episcopal Church. From one of his letters we learn that in the year 1653 meetings were being held to consult "ne ecclesia aliquid detrementi caperet, especially in such a sad juncture of time, when the well-being of it could hardly fall into consideration, and the great care was, that though stripped of all her outward helps, yet there might be a being left her."[324] Piers, Bishop of Wells, whose Episcopal administration had irritated the Puritans, lived at Cuddesdon, upon a considerable estate of his own, which the party in power "had been so merciful as to leave him."

There was at that time another Prelate who by his ability, devotion, and attainments, adorned the Irish bench. Bramhall, Bishop of Londonderry, fled to the Continent after the ruin of the Royal cause, and then having returned to Ireland, and undergone great dangers and difficulties, he fled again and had a narrow escape. "This escape of his is accounted very wonderful, for 'the little bark he was in was closely hunted by two of[310] the Parliament frigates, many of which were on that coast; and when they were come so near that all hopes of being saved were taken away, ... on a sudden the wind slackened into a perfect calm, and, as it were, flew into the sails of the little vessel, and carried her away in view.'" "On his arrival in foreign parts, Providence supplied him with a considerable sum of money, of which he greatly stood in need; for having had seven hundred pounds long due to him, for salmon caught in the river Bann, and sent abroad, which debt he looked upon as lost, he was now so fortunate as to recover it; which proved a seasonable relief both to him and to many Royalists that partook of his generosity. During this second time of his being abroad, 'he had many disputes about religion with the learned of all nations, sometimes occasionally, and at other times by appointment and formal challenge;' and wrote several things in defence of the Church of England. He likewise purposed to draw a parallel between the liturgy of the Church of England and the public forms of the Protestant Churches; and 'for that end designed a journey into Spain;' 'but he met with an unexpected diversion in his first day's journey into that kingdom;' 'for he no sooner came into the house where he intended to refresh himself but he was known and called by his name by the hostess. And his lordship admiring at his being discovered, she soon revealed the secret, and shewed him his own picture, and assured him there were several of them upon the road; that, being known by them, he might be seized and carried to the Inquisition, and that her husband, among others, had power to that purpose, which he would certainly make use of if he found him. The Bishop saw evidently he was a condemned man, being already hanged in effigie, and therefore made use of the ad[311]vertisement, and escaped out of the power of that Court.'"[325] As an example of the reverses suffered in those days, and to indicate the strange employments to which the highest dignitaries might have to betake themselves, it may be mentioned, that Bramhall acted as prize-master to Charles at the port of Flushing, where, in person, he sold captured freights, and had often to complain of the indignities to which he and his fellow Royalists were exposed.

Although not compiling memoirs of these sufferers, yet to interest the reader, as well as illustrate the circumstances and sentiments of Episcopalians during the Commonwealth, we venture to notice certain passages in Bramhall's writings, which were composed by him during the period of his exile. In his "Just Vindication of the Church of England," printed at London (1654), the author (who wrote in Holland) complains of the Episcopalians having to suffer so much for their principles—"being chased as vagabonds into the merciless world to beg relief of strangers." Then, comparing the conduct of Papists abroad and at home during an earlier period with the conduct of English Churchmen of his own day towards indigent brethren, he charges the latter with neglecting to manifest sympathy and help. Foreign princes and their own countrymen of the same communion had founded colleges in other lands for Roman Catholics who were driven from England; and the age before the civil wars had been as fruitful in works of Protestant piety and charity as any age preceding it since the conversion of Britain. Hence, although foreign assistance could not be hoped for, yet a larger supply from home might have been expected, inasmuch as English Episcopalians then were much more numerous than[312] English Catholics had been at the period referred to. "Hath the sword," he goes on to ask, "devoured up all the charitable Obadiahs in our land?" or, is there no man that lays "the affliction of Joseph to heart?" A great lack of love and zeal amongst brethren of the same faith in England alone could justify these interrogations—for Bramhall laments no want of ability in his friends to succour the wanderers, but only a want of will. The exiled Prelate could only cast himself and his companions upon the help of Heaven. "God, that maintained His people in the wilderness without the ordinary supply of food or raiment, will not desert us until 'He turn our captivity as the rivers in the south.' Where human help faileth, Divine begins."[326]

Turning to Bramhall's "Vindication of himself and the Episcopal clergy from the Presbyterian charge of Popery,"—a book written about the year 1659, though not published till 1672[327]—in reply to Baxter's "Treatise of the Grotian Religion," we find in it a defence of the conduct of Episcopalians in the days of their prosperity. Baxter had complained of the persecutions inflicted by them upon the Puritans. According to him, in some places, it had been much more dangerous for a minister to preach a lecture once or twice on the Lord's Day, or to expound the Catechism, than it had been never to preach at all. Bramhall replies: "If preachers shall not content themselves to sow the wheat over again, but shall sow tares[313] above the wheat; if they shall seek to introduce new doctrines, new disciplines, and new forms of worship, by popular sermons, different from and destructive to those which are established by law, who can blame the magistrates, political and ecclesiastical, if they begin to look about them? A seditious orator is dangerous everywhere, but nowhere more than in the pulpit. Then blame not magistrates, if they punish seditious or schismatical preachers more than one who is no preacher. All laws, and all prudent magistrates, regard public dangers more than particular defects."[328] The Bishop did not see that he employed a two-edged sword, and that while aiming a blow at his adversary, he ran the risk of receiving, through counter-thrusts, a wound from the back stroke of his own weapon. If to preach doctrines contrary to those which were established by law deserved chastisement from the magistrate—if such preaching was seditious preaching, then the Commonwealth Government was justified in depriving and silencing Episcopalian ministers. Bramhall vindicated his own party in having done the very same sort of thing which he now complained of as unrighteous when done by his opponents. It is plain enough that both parties were in the wrong, and that each furnished the other with a miserable pretext for revengeful injustice. And when the same writer, comparing Nonconformist with Episcopal sufferers, quietly says: the former suffered for faction, and the latter for faith,[329] and so concludes the subject,—everybody must smile to see how he assumes as[314] settled the very point which was in dispute. His opponents could just as easily say that they were faithful, and that he and his brethren were factious. It is the old story—as old as human nature, and as modern as this morning's newspaper.

The Episcopalians were exposed to a cross fire from the Puritans, who charged them with Popery, and from the Papists, who charged them with schism. The story of the Nag's Head consecration was revived. Laud had treated Presbyterians and Independents as schismatics. M. de la Milletiere, counsellor in ordinary to the King of France, in an epistle, written in the year 1653, with a view of inviting Charles II. to embrace the Catholic faith, maintained, that everybody knew the Archbishop, who had been nourished in the English schism, had no other thought than to reunite in one body the people who were divided into sects amongst themselves, and to make himself chief head of one schismatical Church. "And we see," he adds, "God hath permitted that his own people, divided against itself, hath caused his head to be cut off." This passage illustrates the view which was entertained of Laud and his followers by foreign Roman Catholics, and also of the sort of controversy the refugees had to maintain in their travels through Roman Catholic countries. Bramhall published at the Hague, in 1653, a reply to this performance, repelling the charge of schism, and vindicating the memory of his friend. He calls Laud a most glorious martyr, a man of profound learning, exemplary life, clean hands, a most sincere heart, a patron of learning, and a friend of order and uniformity, but not for sinister ends.[330] The defence was honestly written, and indicated what many honest[315] exiles thought of Laud—how they dwelt on his virtues, and were totally blind to the folly, mischief, and sin of his intolerance; but by holding up to admiration such a Prelate, without a word of condemnation for his faults, Bramhall and others gave bad omen of what they would do themselves if they should ever be restored to power.

An elaborate confutation of the Nag's Head fable engaged the pen of the same writer, and issued from a press at the Hague in the year 1658.[331] In connection with his zeal and diligence in this controversy it is worth while to notice the suspicions which Bramhall entertained of Romanist intrigues in England throughout the Commonwealth era. These suspicions on the part of Presbyterians and Baptists have been already described. There must have been immense exaggeration in such reports; yet their extensive circulation amongst people of different opinions—all of them, however, agreeing in a hatred of Rome—is somewhat remarkable. Impossible as it now is to ascertain the amount of truth which these rumours might contain, they are curious as signs of what was a prevalent belief in those days. That the reader may see for himself what such a man as Bramhall heard and credited on this subject, we subjoin the greater part of a letter to Ussher, which he wrote in the year 1654:—

"It plainly appears that in the year 1646, by order from Rome, above one hundred of the Romish clergy were sent into England, consisting of English, Scotch, and Irish, who had been educated in France, Italy, Germany, and Spain; part of these within the several schools[316] there appointed for their instructions. In each of these Romish nurseries, these scholars were taught several handicraft-trades and callings, as their ingenuities were most bending, besides their orders or functions of that Church. They have many yet at Paris a fitting to be sent over, who twice in the week oppose one the other; one pretending Presbytery, the other Independency; some Anabaptism, and the others contrary tenets—dangerous and prejudicial to the Church of England, and to all the Reformed here abroad. But they are wisely preparing to prevent their designs, which I heartily wish were considered in England among the wise there. When the Romish orders do thus argue pro and con, there is appointed one of the learned of those convents to take notes and to judge: and as he finds their fancies, whether for Presbytery, Independency, Anabaptism, Atheism, or for any new tenets, so, accordingly, they be to act, and to exercise their wits. Upon their permission, when they be sent abroad, they enter their names in the convent registry, also their licences; if a Franciscan, if a Dominician, or Jesuit, or any other order, having several names there entered in their licence; in case of a discovery in one place, then to fly to another, and there to change their names or habit. For an assurance of their constancy to their several orders, they are to give monthly intelligence to their fraternities of all affairs wherever they be dispersed; so that the English abroad know news better than ye at home. When they return into England, they are taught their lesson: to say, (if any enquire from whence they come,) that they are poor Christians formerly that fled beyond sea for their religion sake, and are now returned, with glad news, to enjoy their liberty of conscience. The one hundred men that went over in 1646, were most of them soldiers in[317] the Parliament's army, and were daily to correspond with those Romanists in our late King's army that were lately at Oxford, and pretended to fight for his sacred Majesty; for, at that time, there were some Roman Catholics who did not know the design a contriving against our Church and State of England. But the year following, 1647, many of those Romish Orders who came over the year before were in consultation together, knowing each other. And those of the King's party, asking some why they took with the Parliament's side, and asking others whether they were bewitched to turn Puritans, not knowing the design; but at last, secret bulls and licences being produced by those of the Parliament's side, it was declared between them, there was no better design to confound the Church of England than by pretending liberty of conscience. It was argued then that England would be a second Holland, a Commonwealth; and if so, what would become of the King? It was answered, 'Would to God it were come to that point.' It was again replied, 'Yourselves have preached so much against Rome and his Holiness, that Rome and her Romanists will be little the better for that change:' but it was answered, 'You shall have mass sufficient for a hundred thousand in a short space, and the governors never the wiser.' Then some of the mercifullest of the Romanists said, 'This cannot be done unless the King die;' upon which argument, the Romish Orders thus licensed, and in the Parliament army, wrote unto their several convents, but especially to the Sorbonists, whether it may be scrupled to make away our late godly King and his Majesty his son, our King and master, who, blessed be God, hath escaped their Romish snares laid for him? It was returned from the Sorbonists, that it was lawful for Roman Catholics to work changes in[318] Governments for the Mother Church's advancement, and chiefly in an heretical kingdom; and so lawfully make away the King."[332]

Concluding this imperfect story respecting the Bishops, we now relate what happened to the other clergy. Several of them went abroad. Cosin, the High Church Dean of Peterborough, was of this number. At Charenton, near Paris, according to Walker, he kept up the English Church discipline and worship by the Common Prayer, recovered some who were inclined to Popery, and had encounters with several Jesuits and Romish priests; but his tendencies in another direction appear in "Evelyn's Diary," where it is related that, "The Dean of Peterborough preached on the Feast of Pentecost; perstringing those of Geneva for their irreverence of the blessed Virgin."[333] The same diarist gives a glimpse of the ceremonies in the chapel of the exiles: "The King and Duke received the sacrament first by themselves, the Lords Byron and Wilmot holding the long towel all along the altar."[334] To shew the sincerity of the Dean, who had raised—and we do not wonder at it, when we think of his childish ritualism—such a storm[319] of Puritan indignation against himself; and as an indication of his courage and his constancy—a trait of character, no doubt common in that age, as it is wont to be amongst all but the basest of mankind, when storms of persecution try their attachment to the Church of their childhood and their convictions—we venture to quote a few lines from one of Cosin's letters to his friend Sancroft, who was destined to occupy the chair of the Primacy, but was at the time of the Restoration a wanderer abroad: "I am right glad to hear still, (as I have been told by divers persons heretofore,) how firm and unmoved you continue your own standing in the midst of these great and violent storms that are now raised against the Church of England; which, for my part, notwithstanding the outward glory and dress that she had, be in these evil times taken from her, yet I honour and reverence above all the other churches of the world; for she bears upon her, more signally than any other that I know does, the marks of Christ, which, when all is done, will be our greatest glory."[335]

Dr. Morley, in company with Cosin, attended the English Court in the city of Paris in the year 1651.[320][336] After being engaged in the education of Hyde's family during part of their exile, at a period when they were "in great want already, and likely to be in more and more, even to a very great extremity, if God in mercy did not provide for it by some extraordinary means, beyond all visible probability,"—he became chaplain at Heidelberg to Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, at a salary of £50 per annum, with permission "to officiate to the Queen's family according to the liturgy of the Church of England, without any subordination to the classis." He had been a friend of Falkland, of Chillingworth, and of Waller, and before the wars was thought to favour the Puritans. Burnet says he was doctrinally a Calvinist, and was pious and charitable, but he also speaks of him as extremely passionate, and full of obstinacy—a statement which Baxter confirms in his account of the Savoy disputations.[337] He had in early days been "one of Ben Jonson's sons," a circumstance which accords with his life-long reputation for brilliant wit. That gift, always dangerous, is particularly so to a clergyman; and Morley, who is said to have been "keen, but inoffensive," though admired by his friends for his companionable qualities, was condemned by many for[321] social habits and a tone of conversation unbecoming a Christian minister.

Isaac Basire, who had been chaplain to King Charles and to the Bishop of Lichfield, and who had held a Prebendal stall and a Rectory, being deprived of all his preferments, found refuge in Rouen, his native city, whilst his wife and children were encompassed by pecuniary difficulties at home. After travelling with pupils in Italy and elsewhere, he visited the islands of the Mediterranean, and also the shores of Greece—where he preached, by invitation of the Metropolitan, before his bishops and the clergy. He visited Naples and Sicily, where he officiated for some weeks on board ship. He went also to Aleppo and Jerusalem, had conferences with the Greek and Latin clergy, and interested himself in the Coptic Churches: at the same time he aimed at reforming the Eastern Christians, and endeavoured to promulgate the doctrines and formularies of English Episcopalians.[338] We are perfectly ready to honour a man who, in the hour of his spiritual mother's humiliation, and when driven from her altars, vindicated her priesthood,[322] maintained her ritual, and diffused her principles; but we must add, that Basire attached most unjustifiable importance to certain ecclesiastical matters, and went beyond bounds in his episcopalian zeal, betraying, at the same time, a strong hatred to those who in England held the reins of government.

Let us return to our own country, to trace other and more illustrious Episcopal confessors in their various retreats. Jeremy Taylor, after submitting to the drudgery of school-keeping in a Welsh village, found for a while a congenial and charming home at Golden Grove. There—to use some of his own richly-coloured words—as the highest branches of the wood stooped, and made a smooth path for the winds on the top of all its glories—and as the sun so gloriously opened the little eye of heaven and sent away the spirits of darkness, and called up the lark to matins, and gilded the fringes of a cloud, and wept great and little showers; and as the images of the trees hung over the water, and were reflected from the bottom, and as the lark rose from his bed of grass, and climbed above the clouds, and was beaten back with the loud sighing of an eastern wind—the great poet-preacher gathered images for his discourses. And again, as he heard the faint echo of a distant valley, and watched the little bee that feeds on dew, and pried into the ivy creeping at the foot of the oak, he found lessons of instructive piety to delight mankind. Looking at what Taylor there worked up into his marvellous imagination, it may be truly said, "the gold of that land was good;" but his temporary sojourn in a paradise-like retreat was followed by imprisonment in Chepstow Castle, and afterwards in the Tower of London, in consequence of incautious language which he used in reference to his Puritan oppressors, and because of a "superstitious" engraving of our[323] Saviour at prayer, prefixed by his publisher to the "Collection of Offices." Taylor's theology, which was surpassed by his eloquence, brought him into trouble with the calmer and more careful Divines of his own Church, as well as with the Presbyterians; his "Treatise on Repentance" drawing tears from the eyes of Sanderson, who complained that his friend was pulling down the ancient landmarks of the Christian faith. His controversy with Jeanes, the Presbyterian, proved that Taylor had a quick temper—that instead of "receiving furies and indiscretions like a stone into a bed of moss and soft compliances," he could send out angry words like fire when the flint and steel come into collision. With ruffled temper, when the controversy was over, he remarked: "I have been so pushed at by herds and flocks of people that follow anybody that whistles to them, or drives them to pasture, that I am grown afraid of any truth that seems chargeable with singularity;" and thus it appears that he had to pay the penalty of unpopularity and opposition, which all men must pay who, whether right or wrong, venture to differ from the theological opinions of their brethren. In a nobler and sweeter tone he confessed, when the wings of his spirit were smoothed once more: "For my part I have learned to humble myself, and to adore the inscrutable paths of the Most High. God and truth are still the same, though the foundations of the world be shaken." And again: "We are reduced to that religion which no man can forbid—which we can keep in the midst of a persecution—by which the martyrs in the days of our fathers went to heaven—that by which we can be servants of God, and receive the Spirit of Christ, and make use of His comforts, and live in His love, and in charity with all men, and they that do so cannot perish." With exquisite[324] delicacy and pathos, Taylor alludes to his poverty in a letter to Evelyn (1656): "Sir, I know not when I shall be able to come to London, for our being stripped of the little reliques of our fortune remaining after the shipwreck leaves us not cordage nor sails sufficient to bear me thither." Taylor is supposed, but not with any sufficient foundation, to have at one period held a pastoral charge in London; certainly he obtained induction to a Lectureship at Lisburn, in Ireland. Residing at Portmore, in the enjoyment of Lord Conway's hospitality, he found repeated there some of the charming scenes and also some of the associations and advantages of Golden Grove. Yet, again, the great preacher's repose was interrupted by a fanatical Presbyterian, who informed against him as a dangerous man who used the sign of the cross in baptism. Writing in 1659-60, Taylor remarks: "I had been in the worst of our winter weather sent for to Dublin by our late Anabaptist Commissioners, and found the evil of it so great that in my going I began to be ill, but in my return had my ill redoubled." The Restoration found him bringing through the press the Ductor Dubitantium.[339]

Of those who were ejected from the University of Oxford, Sanderson and Hammond were the most distinguished. Their story is amongst the most beautiful legends[325] of the age, and their loving intercourse reminds us of the friendship of Basil and Gregory in far earlier times. As their lives were entwined round each other, so are their memories. Sanderson retired to Boothby parish, where he continued to minister according to Episcopalian rites, only disturbed occasionally by soldiers while he was reading prayers. They told him how God could be served more acceptably, and then they enforced their advice by tearing the liturgy to pieces. A prudent and affectionate Parliamentary friend recommended him not to be strict in reading all the prayers, "especially if the soldiers came to watch him," "for which reasons he did vary somewhat from the strict rules of the rubric." His admiring biographer sets down the form of confession which, perhaps in consequence of such advice, was used by this Divine, and it shews what minute variations were adopted by clergymen in order to evade the ordinance against the use of the Common Prayer Book.[340] Sanderson preached every Sunday, solicitously enquiring "what he might do to speak more plainly or more movingly: whether his extemporary wording might not be a defect, and the like." He daily read prayers, and the time between doing this and the hour of dinner he employed in[326] instructing the children of the family with whom he lived; "observing diligently the little deviations of their manners, and applying remedies unto them."

After an abortive attempt had been made by some Royalists in the neighbourhood of Tunbridge to help the King, Hammond, then living there, felt obliged to remove; and, upon visiting his old tutor, Dr. Buckner, "in such a habit as that exigence made necessary," he, under his friend's hospitable roof, though "no valuer of trifles," had so extraordinary a dream that he could not then despise or ever afterwards forget it. "He thought himself and a multitude of others to have been abroad in a bright and cheerful day, when on a sudden there seemed a separation to be made, and he, with the far less number, to be placed at a distance from the rest; and then, the clouds gathering, a most tempestuous storm arose, with thundering and lightnings, with spouts of impetuous rain, and violent gusts of wind, and whatever else might add unto a scene of horror, particularly balls of fire, that shot themselves amongst the ranks of those that stood in the lesser party; when a gentle whisper seemed to interrupt those other louder noises, saying: Be still, and ye shall receive no harm. Amidst these terrors, the doctor falling to his prayers, soon after the tempest ceased, and that well-known cathedral anthem begun, Come, Lord Jesus, come away, with which he awoke. The correspondent event of all which he found verified signally in the preservation both of himself and his friends in doing of their duties; the which with much content he was used to mention. Beside, being himself taken to the choir of angels at the close of that land-hurricane of ours, whereof that dismal apparition was only a faint emblem, he gave thereby too[327] literal a completion to his dream, and the unhappy credit of bordering upon prophecy."[341]

Hammond went to see Sanderson at Boothby, when Hammond persuaded him to attempt the practice of memoriter preaching. Early on a Sunday morning, they walked to a neighbouring church, where the minister requested the favour of a sermon. Sanderson entered the pulpit, having previously put the MS. of the discourse, which he had committed to memory, into his friend's hands. The effort to preach in this way turned out a humiliating failure. The preacher, before he had delivered the third part of what he meant to say, became very confused, and "so lost as to the matter," that his learned auditor was frightened, and many of the village congregation discovered that there was something wrong. "Good doctor," said Sanderson, as they were returning home, "give me my sermon, and know that neither you nor any man living, shall ever persuade me to preach again without my books." "Good doctor," returned the other, "be not angry; for if I persuade you to preach again without book, I will give you leave to burn all those that I am master of."[342]

Another interesting glimpse of Sanderson is caught in "Walton's Lives." When he came up to London in 1655, the worthy angler met him near Little Britain, "in sad-coloured clothes—far from being costly." One can see the noble countenance of the man—with his lofty forehead, fine regular features, full round eyes, white moustache, and trimly-peaked beard;—only he was now dressed in lay attire, and that of a very humble kind, instead of appearing, as in his portrait, with surplice, scarf, and college cap. It was raining at the time, and he and[328] Walton turned aside to gossip under a pent-house; when, the wind driving in their faces, they adjourned to "a cleanly house," where they had bread, cheese, ale, and a fire for their money. Their conversation naturally turned upon the Church; and Sanderson bewailed the abolishing of the Prayer Book and the use of extempore prayer, pronouncing the Collects "the most passionate, proper, and most elegant expressions that any language ever afforded." The Liturgy, the Psalms, and the language of devotion, he complained, had been exchanged for needless debates about free-will, election, and reprobation. Such lamentations no doubt formed the staple of much table-talk amongst the class to which the ejected Oxonian belonged; and in the contempt poured upon extempore prayer he manifested the onesidedness of Episcopalian prejudices. He and his opponents were not in a position to regard fairly each other's methods of devotion. Mutual war had exasperated the passions, so as to produce in both a stone-blindness to that which was good beyond their own narrow enclosures. The same tone of prejudice also led Sanderson to point at Puritanism another shaft—which larger acquaintance with human nature, and a deeper sense of justice, will lead the moral censor, with a slight modification of phraseology, to apply to hypocrites of all sects. They thought, said the Anglican Churchman, that "they might be religious first, and then just and merciful; that they might sell their consciences, and yet have something left that was worth keeping; that they might be sure they were elected, though their lives were visibly scandalous; that to be cunning was to be wise; that to be rich was to be happy, though their wealth was got without justice or mercy; that to be busy in things they understood not, was no sin." The writer and other clear-headed men besides him did[329] not see, that after all, the charge of hypocrisy applies, not to the thoroughly honest, though fanatical Puritan of the Commonwealth, but to all such persons as for awhile assumed the livery of a sect for their own selfish ends: amongst whom were many who a few years afterwards declared, that they had been Episcopalian in heart throughout the whole period, and had only "submitted to the times." Curious, too, is it to find this distinguished man, at the end of his interesting conversation with Walton, starting the idea, that the way to restore the country to a more meek and Christian temper was to prepare a body of Church divinity in fifty-two homilies, each to be of such length as not to exceed a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes' reading.[343] Melancholy it is to learn that this scholar and Divine, in the year 1658, was in so low a condition as to be glad to receive £50 as a present from Dr. Barlow.

Sanderson's friend, Dr. Hammond, wins our heart at once, as we hear him say: "He delighted to be loved, not reverenced," and he excites our veneration, too, as he exclaims, with vehemence: "Oh! what a glorious thing, how rich a prize for the expense of a man's whole life, were it to be the instrument of rescuing one soul!" He lived with a family in which he acted as chaplain, when Cromwell's intolerant decree of 1655 disturbed his peace. Roused to righteous indignation, he wrote his "Parænesis," in which "he resented with the highest passion" the Protector's edict; at the same time he looked, as he says, upon this dispensation of Providence as if God pronounced him unworthy to do any service, and as if He reproached him of former unprofitableness, by casting him out now like straw upon a dunghill. Hammond being[330] one who made the best of circumstances—saying, with Epictetus, "that everything has two handles: if the one prove hot, and not to be touched, we may take the other that is more temperate"—always advocated quiet submission to Providence during what he considered to be afflictive times.[344]

Several of his letters are preserved in the British Museum. In one of these, addressed to Sheldon, afterwards Bishop of London, so early as October the 14th, 1649, he remarks, respecting his friend: "I think, when I saw Dr. S[anderson] last, certainly he told me he used the Common Prayer, otherwise I wonder not that he that disuses it, should think fit to go to their churches that do omit it. When you meet with him, endeavour to infuse some courage into him, the want of which may betray his reason. His opinion expressed will betray many."[345] The method pursued by Sanderson, of using the Liturgy with verbal alterations, so as to give the appearance of not adopting it, when he employed it in substance, displeased and perplexed some of his episcopal acquaintance; but beyond this—as it appears from another letter by Hammond—his companion once thought of becoming associated in public religious ministrations "with the Grantham Lecturers." To do such a thing, Hammond, altogether a stiffer Churchman than Sanderson, regarded as illegal—as not allowed by the authority of the Bishop, who was still alive, and might be consulted—as countenancing schismatics, and therefore an act of schism—and as not right, even if the end were good. The rest of the letter is so indicative of the temper of the best High Churchmen in those days, that it deserves to be quoted at length. "I cannot believe[331] that the end, by your letter mentioned, is good for to sweeten them by complying with them in schismatical acts; and making them believe themselves pardonable, whilst they continue and remain unreformed in their schism, is to confirm them in their course and so to scandalize them as well as others, to put a stumbling-block in their way to reformation. Certainly the greater charity to those moderate reformable Presbyters were to assist, and hasten the perfecting of their repentance, and renouncing of their erroneous practices, and then if the Bishop give leave to Dr. Sa[nderson] to erect some other lecture, they will sure come and combine with him. And for those that mean not this, 'tis certain that they are not to be persuaded, that if the laws regain their power, they shall be tolerated (their way being so unreconcilable with Prelacy), and as certain that instead of serving Dr. Sanderson's end they desire to serve themselves of him, and by his presence and joining with them, to have him thought such as they—and so hath Mr. Baxter already divided the Prelatical Clergy into two parts, one exemplified by Dr. Ussher and Dr. Sanderson; the other styled, in gross, Cassandrian, Grotian Papists; and several of his friends marked out by some circumstances to be of that number. Lastly, he may do well to consider whether, if from writing for the Engagement first and then the laying aside the Liturgy, he proceed farther to this, it will not be after more easy to superstruct on these beginnings more suitable practices than it hath been to reconcile these to his former writings [and?] persuasions. And whether, on the other side, this be not a season much better for him to appear in upholding the truth by answering the London Presbyters' vindication (in sixty sheets shortly coming out) of their government ordination, &c., than to seem (a[332] person of such authority) to consent to it by practising with them."[346] From this communication it appears how strongly such men as Hammond opposed the idea of any scheme of ecclesiastical comprehension—how determined they were to maintain the exclusive system of the Episcopal Church, and how honestly they did so, when by relaxing a little the bonds so strictly drawn, they might have gained some freedom for themselves. Their integrity in that respect deserves credit, but it also shews how hopeless was any idea of union between Episcopalians and Presbyterians after the Restoration, when men who were really so good were also so narrow-minded.

Another epistle from the same pen presents the writer under another aspect. Zealous for the preservation of Episcopacy, he proposed to contribute munificently to a fund for the support of learned persons who might advance its interests. The proposal was addressed to Sheldon, who had been ejected from All Souls, when Hammond had suffered expulsion from his Professorship. "Let me mention to you an hasty undigested fancy of mine suggested to me by reading the conclusion of Bishop Bramhall's excellent book of schism, pages 276, 277. It is this: What if you and Dr. Henchman and I should endeavour to raise £600 per annum (each of us gaining subscriptions for £200) for seven years, to maintain a society of twenty exiled scholars; and, when we discern the thing feasible, communicate it to Bishop Bramhall, and require of him a catalogue of twenty such, whose wants and desires of such a recess, in some convenient place (by him to be thought of also) might make it a fit charity to recommend to pious persons? Next, if this be not unreasonable to be endeavoured, then, tell me[333] whether it must be privately carried or may be publicly avowed, and what else you can think of to perfect and form this sudden rude conceit? which, when I have also communicated to Dr. Henchman, I shall be content to be laughed at by either of you."[347]

Dr. Hammond died before the Restoration. His patience during his last sufferings, which were extremely great, his reliance upon Jesus Christ as the Saviour of sinners, his humility and thankfulness, and his dying words, "Lord make haste," are duly recorded by his biographer Fell. But, as some additional information respecting his disease, and the temper in which he bore it, is supplied by a letter of his widow, we venture to introduce it here:—"It is my great misfortune I neither can send to you as I would, nor hear from you as I desire, for sometimes my friend is not here when your letters come, then they are delivered to him, wheresoever he is, which many times makes it very long before I can return an answer; but now my long silence was occasioned by my dear husband's sickness and death, which, though my loss was very great, yet, when I consider God's mercy was so infinitely shewed both to him and me, giving us, first, many years of comfort together and life to a very great age, and then a gentle correction to bring him home to Him, and gave him the comfort of his children about him, and be a great comfort and example to them of patience and humility, submitting to God's will in all. Indeed, I cannot say he had better health at any time, since we came into these parts, than he had the last very hard winter; overcoming it with so much life and spirit, I believed he might have lived some years more, till this accident[334] happened upon him, which proved an ulcer under his tongue. At first I thought little of it, neither did he much complain, I used such means as I had, and thought good for that purpose, but he still continued ill; then we had a surgeon at least two months in hand, making no difficulty at all of healing of it; but I, seeing it continue so long and no change to the better, I desired him to deal plainly with me, and what his opinion was. He told me, he [could] see now he must use sharper medicines to it, and cornise, (sic, cauterize?) which I would not suffer without better advice. My son sent us a very excellent surgeon, and a very honest man. As soon as he looked on it, gave me little comfort by reason of my husband's age, but approved of what I had done and gave me further directions what to do; and said no violence must he use to it, for he feared, as the summer came on, it would grow worse, which, indeed, it did, and eat till all his teeth came out on that side, which was a great disheartening to him; but I comforted him as well as I could, though I much feared his tongue would have been eaten out if he had continued long, which would have made his life unpleasant to him, and a great grief to all his friends about him; but my gracious God was very merciful to both him and me, for having prepared him with great patience and humility to submit either to life or death, and with St. Paul to say, that death was gain. Our great God kept us from want, and gave us the comfort of our children about us, and that good man, as you say, which indeed hath been a great comfort to me in all my afflictions. My many years tell me I shall not be long after him; I pray God I may follow his good example, and then we shall meet in perfect joy together. My good friend would not give me the discomfort of your sickness till he heard you were past danger, though I had many times enquired of him,[335] when he heard from you, but told me he did not use to hear from you. I do give God most hearty thanks for your recovery, and do daily pray that He, in His infinite mercy, will continue good people amongst us for our example, that we may be fit for His mercy. Within this three weeks I have received your bounty, but no letter which would give me great satisfaction of your health, which I daily pray for. Excuse this long scribbled letter, and make me happy with a line from you."[348]

Another learned Anglo-Catholic Divine requires attention on his own account, and in consequence of his disapproval of such conciliatory methods as were favoured by the more truly Catholic Episcopalian Sanderson. Herbert Thorndike, whose erudition did honour to Cambridge, was ejected first from Barley, in Hertfordshire, and then from his Fellowship at Trinity College. His name occurs in the list of those who were relieved by the beneficence of Lord Scudamore, and also amongst the friends of Walton engaged upon the great polyglott.[349] With a logical mind, which was eminently fitted for systematizing opinions, he had worked out Anglo-Catholic principles into a complete scheme of theology. His central point was that "the title of our salvation is the covenant of baptism, whereby we undertake to profess Christianity and to live according to it, in despite of the devil and all his works;"[350] and this view he urges incessantly in his writings against[336] the Puritan doctrine of justification by faith. Episcopal order, and the use of the Prayer Book, without even the slightest alteration, found in Thorndike a most zealous defender; and, it may be inferred from such a circumstance, that the Puritans had not a more steady and determined opponent than this able man. He could not understand them. Their doctrinal views, as seen through his prejudices, seemed to be of an antinomian nature, whilst their ecclesiastical proceedings, judged of with the same unfairness, were denounced as schismatical and as utterly subversive of all Church order. Hence he condemned Sanderson's practice of altering the prayers; arguing that though force might make him omit what he was ecclesiastically commanded, it could not make him do what he was ecclesiastically forbidden.[351] Thorndike was made of such stern, tough stuff, that he revolted from all mere politic measures, and from all attempts at compromise. He never asked what was expedient, but only what was right; yet also he deemed trimming to be as unwise as it was wrong, and he maintained that not to omit a word of the service would be as safe as the method adopted by Sanderson. He advised that when the whole Liturgy could not be read, as much of it should be used as possible without any alteration.[352] One of his papers, dated 1656, preserved in the Westminster Chapter Library, contains an argument against communicating with the Presbyterian or other sects: most uncharitably and unjustly he inferred—from their doctrine of justification by faith, which he quite misunderstood—that they could not "think themselves tied to live as Christians," or, as he added, to repent and[337] return to that Christianity which they had forfeited. And beside this—fearing that the sects would swallow up the Church, which they had broken in pieces—he warned Churchmen against in any way owning Puritan teachers or frequenting Puritan sermons, whatever danger there might be of temporal penalties in pursuing a different path, or whatever "difficulty of finding what course to take."[353]

As to the inner life of persecuted Episcopalianism, "Evelyn's Diary" affords information beyond, perhaps, any other contemporary production. A sequestered and learned minister preached in Evelyn's parlour and administered the blessed sacrament, when, according to Episcopal usage, it was "wholly out of use in the parish churches." He heard once the Common Prayer read[354] ("a rare thing in those days") in St. Peter's, at Paul's Wharf, London; and in the morning of the same day he listened to the preaching of "the Archbishop of Armagh—that pious person and learned man, Ussher—in Lincoln's Inn Chapel." On a Christmas day there was no sermon anywhere, no church being permitted to be open, so the diarist observed it at home. The next day he went to Lewisham, where "an honest Divine delivered a discourse."[355]

[338]

Now and then an "honest orthodox man" ascended the pulpit of Evelyn's parish church, and although the Incumbent was "somewhat of the Independent," yet "he ordinarily preached sound doctrine and was a peaceable man, which was an extraordinary felicity in that age." Once Evelyn heard a person who "had been both chaplain and lieutenant to Admiral Penn, and who thus, as he says, used "both swords."[356]

Repeatedly notices occur in the "Diary" of neglected festivals, and of private preachings and communions; and he indicates his caution no less than his zeal, by stating that his only reason for going to church whilst these "usurpers" possessed the pulpits was, that he might not be suspected of being a Papist. He felt the wholesome uses of adversity, and states—after alluding to Dr. Wild as preaching in a private house in Fleet Street—that the zealous Christians who gathered together there were much more religious and devout than they had ever been in times of prosperity. He notes down the circumstance, that on Christmas day, 1657, at the conclusion of a sermon by Mr. Gunning, in Exeter Chapel, the building was surrounded by soldiers, and the communicants were kept inside as prisoners. Evelyn himself had his place of confinement in the mansion to which the chapel belonged; but was allowed to dine with the noble master of it, the Countess of Dorset, Lady Hatton, and others. Some of Oliver's colonels came in the afternoon to enquire into the matter, and they asked the Royalist churchman why he durst offend against the ordinances of Parliament. It appears[339] from his answer that the name of "King Charles" had been omitted from the service, and that supplications of a general kind were offered on behalf of kings and princes. At the conclusion of the account, however, the diarist acknowledges that the soldiers after all, did not really interrupt the worship, but only held up their muskets "as if" he says, "they would have shot us at the altar, but yet suffering us to finish the office of communion."[357]

Such was the case in London. In the country an instance occurred—perhaps only representing several of the same kind—of a public defiance of the law. In the year 1658, as John Wilson, a cloth merchant of Leeds, kinsman of Bishop Wilson's father, was walking through the streets he met the Vicar and said to him: "When shall we have Divine service again in Leeds Old Church?" The Vicar replied: "Whenever Mr. Wilson will protect me in the discharge of my duty." "Then," he rejoined, "by the grace of God it shall be next Sunday." Accordingly, on that day the bells rang as in the days before the wars, for morning prayers, and a large congregation was gathered together. In the centre aisle stood Mr. Wilson, with a great number of persons drawn up as if to protect the Vicar. News of this occurrence soon reached London, and an order came down for the imprisonment of the bold violator of Parliamentary ordinances; but before his trial could take place Oliver Cromwell died.[358]

Mention has been already made of a practice, adopted by some Anglicans, of using parts of the Prayer Book[340] with less or more of alteration. But besides this method another appears to have been proposed, if not actually adopted. There lies before us, at the moment of writing these lines, a little volume in manuscript,[359] evidently intended to be read by Episcopalian Churchmen in their worship during the Commonwealth. It neither exactly follows the order, nor does it, except in a very few instances, adopt the phraseology of the Common Prayer. "A Prayer preparatory to the holy Sacrament" appears upon the first page, followed by "A Meditation when we come to the holy table"—meant no doubt for private use; and next to it there follows that which appears to be the opening of a service of social worship. It commences with a long series of confessions, including this remarkable one:—"Not observing the times of festivity or fasting appointed by just authority according to the example of Thy people in all ages." After each article of confession there occur the words: "O Lord! righteousness belongs unto Thee, but unto us confusion of face, as at this day." "The form of absolution, to be pronounced by the priest only," is expressed in the following terms:—"Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, who of His great mercy hath promised forgiveness of sins to all them that with hearty repentance and true faith turn unto Him, have mercy upon you, pardon and deliver you from all your sins, confirm and strengthen you in all goodness, and bring you to everlasting salvation, both of body and soul, through Jesus Christ our Lord." Next to the absolution is the Lord's Prayer; and next to the Lord's Prayer are brief petitions associated with it—the same as are found in the like portion of the "Order[341] for Morning and Evening Prayer" in the Church of England service at the present day. Lamentations respecting the Church and the nation are inserted; after which the first lesson is directed to be read;[360] then comes "A Form collected out of the Psalms," in which the people respond to the priest. There succeed three prayers; the first two confessing sins, and imploring mercy, the third interceding for the son of Charles I. There are also prayers for the clergy, for the enemies of the Church, and for the removal of the anger of God from His afflicted people. The service ends with the benediction. "A Prayer to be said during these troubles;" "A Confession of God's justice in His punishments, and A Deprecation of His judgments;" and "A Prayer for the 30th of January," conclude the volume. From the second of these forms we extract the following passage:—"Arise, O arm of the Lord, and put on strength, let not man have the upper hand, let not the mischievous imaginations of our enemies prosper, lest they be too proud. But now Thou hast frustrated all our worldly hopes and affiances, take the matter we beseech Thee into Thine own hands, and by what means it pleaseth Thee, put a period to our wasting miseries, that these lands may no longer be rent and torn asunder by their own children, and thus made drunk with the blood of their own inhabitants. Bring into Thy way of truth all such as offend through ignorance, mollify the hard-hearted, be merciful to all that offend not of malicious wickedness, but let Thy exemplary judgments be upon such as will not turn nor fear God, and be a means for the speedier conversion of the rest. O God of all order and[342] peace, and yet makest men to be of one mind in an house, turn the hearts of the people of these lands to their God, to Thy servant our King, one to another, make up our breaches, heal our wounds, compose our divisions, bring all things again into a right frame among us, both in Church and State, and knit us again together in the unity of the Spirit and in the bond of peace. Arise and help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of Thy name; help us in these our great extremities in this most needful time of trouble, for Thy promise' sake, for Thy mercies' sake, for Thy Son Christ Jesus' sake, to whom with Thee and the Holy Ghost be all glory and praise now and for ever."

Thus the proscribed and suffering children of the Episcopal Church, forbidden to use the ancient prayers so dear to their affections, prepared for themselves new ones, in which they expressed their patriotism and their loyalty. The latter sentiment is conspicuous in these original offices—indeed it had become a perfect passion in the breasts of the Episcopalians. Whatever doubts some might have formerly felt as to the wisdom of the proceedings of Charles the First, they now almost all regarded him as a martyr for Episcopacy; so that, as they engaged in their devotions, the crimson-stained shadow of the departed monarch rose before their eyes with a touching solemnity and religious reverence for his memory blended with their remembered allegiance to his crown. Thorough legitimists, they now esteemed that crown the property of his eldest son. All Republicans, all Commonwealth men, all who dared to uphold the rights of Parliament or of a Protector against the rights of kings, were to them no better than rebels. Whereas the loyalty of some persons rested on their religion, the religion of many more rested on their loyalty. They[343] cared very little, if at all, about ecclesiastical and spiritual questions. They simply believed that King Charles had died for the Church of England, and that, as loyal men, they ought to love it for King Charles' sake. The religion of many of them was merely a feeling of that description. Sufferings in the cause—as is always the case—endeared the cause to the sufferers. They had lost their relatives in battle; they felt twinges in their old wounds when the weather changed; Naseby and Marston Moor were names to them full of anguish. They had endured confiscation, imprisonment, and bonds. One could tell how he had carried packets to the Queen at the risk of his life; a second how he had lost his eyes and his arms in the King's service; a third how he had been tossed and tumbled up and down, and was tried eleven times for his life, and how he was brought to the foot of the gallows, and yet after all escaped with his life; and a fourth, how he had lost £2,000, had been turned out of doors, had been burnt with matches, and carried to Worcester, and kept there under guard, whence he had fled, had been obliged to take to trees for a hiding place in the day time, and then to travel all night, had been caught and sent to the gatehouse, and sentenced to be shot, and had then got out of prison during sermon time, and lived three weeks in an enemy's haymow, and limped on crutches to Bristol, and so escaped. The widows of soldiers, too, talked of being plundered, stripped, and whipped, of their banished children, and of their own poverty and hardships; in all which stories, though there might be not a little exaggeration, there was also not a little truth.[361]

[344]

The loyalty of these persons, as we have said, is prominently exhibited in the little Prayer Book before us; and from its pages we quote the following remarkable petitions for Prince Charles:—

"O blessed Lord God, who hast in Thy fatherly care and goodness taken our late gracious Sovereign into Thy peace, and left the inheritance of his throne and sceptre to his firstborn, we beseech Thee to prepare and instruct him for so high and so weighty a calling. Be Thou pleased, out of the riches of Thy treasure, to pour Thy wisdom into his heart, to command that double portion of his father's spirit to rest upon him—the head of Solomon and the heart of David—and withal the meekness and true Christian charity, the inward calmness, and placability of spirit, that may arm him thoroughly against all the provocations of an unthankful people; that he may come and reign amongst us, as a tender compassionate father of all his kingdoms, carry them, as Moses did Thy people, in his arms, from a desert to Canaan, and go in and out before them with that conduct which Thy pillar of fire and cloud afforded them. Lord, be Thou his light and his guide, his counsellor and protector, his shield and his exceeding great reward; keep him from all the designs of the enemies of his and our peace; preserve him as the apple of thine own eyes; and because of the great strait and difficulties which are now before him, the obstructions which none but Thine especial interposition can remove, Lord, fasten his heart, and the eyes and hearts of all his counsellors steadfastly and unanimously upon Thee, to keep close to Thy ways and rule, and be Thou continually assistant to them, that without the effusion of any more blood, if it be Thy sacred will, he may attain to a peaceable possession and establishment in his inheritance; erect[345] his throne in the hearts and loyal affections of his people; give them all a thorough sight of the great errors of their former ways, and sincere endeavour to approve their fidelity to him whom Thou hast set over us. Unite us all at length in the Christian bond of peace and love, in the practice and power of all godliness, that being by this last astonishing cup, added to so many former punishments, made inwardly sensible of Thine anger for this unnatural division, we may all at length be reduced to our bounden obedience, to the glory of Thy sacred name, the vindication of our defamed religion, the comfort of our King, and the happiness and restoration of these languishing kingdoms; and confirm all this to us, O Lord, in the bowels of Thine own mercy, to a sinful people, through the mediation of Thine own dear Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

There is no doubt a great deal to admire in these expressions of attachment to the old regal rule of England, and in these supplications for him whom the Episcopalians could not fail to regard as heir to the throne; but then, on the other hand, no one can shut his eyes to the fact that these persons, precisely to the same degree in which they evinced their devotion to monarchy now abolished, and their love for the Stuart dynasty now exiled, shewed themselves to be disaffected subjects of the existing Government—rebels, in short, against the Republic and the Protectorate. Unquestionably they formed a very dangerous class. Their religion, and their holiest services, were identified with the strongest desires for a revolution. They believed that the overthrow of the powers of the State was essential to the restored prosperity of their Church. No doubt the righteous course of the supreme authority in England at that time would have been to separate what had[346] become entangled; and whilst consistently forbidding such worship as was instinct with the spirit of treason, justly to concede full toleration for such worship as was simply Episcopalian. But, looking at human nature, and at the exasperation of men's feelings in those days, such clear discrimination and such calm equity are much more than could be expected; and therefore whilst we decidedly condemn the intolerance of forbidding the use of the Prayer Book altogether, we are bound to recognize—as some excuse for the Commonwealth Rulers, or, at least, as a fact claiming some mitigation of our censures of their conduct—the political position of the Episcopalians, assumed either by their continued use of the old royalistic formularies, or by their adoption of new ones even stronger and more revolutionary in their place. It is also only fair to recollect what large provocations the Puritans had received only a few years earlier from persons of this very class when they were in the ascendant; as well as to remember what provocation the rulers of the country still met with from persons of the same class who were known to be actually engaged in plots for their overthrow. And after all, the pressure put upon the Episcopal party in the darkest hour of their history under the Commonwealth is not to be compared, as it respects violence on the one side and suffering on the other, with what was inflicted by Churchmen, and experienced by Nonconformists, under Charles the First and Charles the Second.[362] Nor is there any resem[347]blance between the amount of persecution endured by the disciples of Prelacy at the period under review, and the amount of sorrow and pain which was then borne by another class of Christians whose history will be unfolded in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XIII.

There is in humanity an element of mysticism presenting manifold developments. It characterizes both individual minds and schools of thought: mediæval theologians, and men and women of Romish Christendom, altogether ignorant of scientific divinity, and only burning with pious fervour, have been mystics without knowing that they were so. Since the Reformation particular members of all sects have been tinged with this peculiarity; and a whole body of religionists in England have from the very beginning of their remarkable history avowed the love and walked in the light of a mystical spiritualism. Though the Anglo-Saxon race are believed generally to have less sympathy with transcendental views than Spaniards, Germans, or Frenchmen, yet it is a fact that nowhere as in this country has mysticism produced a distinct and permanent ecclesiastical organization. And what is further remarkable, whilst it claims a purely spiritual basis—there is no other sect which has an equal distinctness of form and an equal prominence in external singularity; for not only in worship and discipline does it stand out in marked visibility before the world, but so obvious are or were its outward signs that, until very lately, a member of the Society might be as easily recognized as a Roman Catholic priest or a Capuchin friar.

[349]

The origin of the Quakers, as they were first derisively called,[363] of the Friends, as they prefer to be designated, was under the Commonwealth. Then the freedom granted to enquiry within Evangelical limits, the violent reaction which had set in against the forms and ceremonies of Anglo-Catholicism, the generally unsettled state of religious thought, the activity of tendencies towards a sort of ultra-spirituality, and a natural craving—amidst the revolutions of an age which tore up old conventionalities of belief—to get at the pure substance of truth, and at the heart of things, combined to draw out and to nourish whatever of the mystical element there might be in English souls. Sympathies of that order were vaguely working and were indefinitely expressed in many quarters.

Quakerism, as a congenial centre, speedily attracted them to itself. The true Friend, travelling in modern days on religious service, finds in churches the most remote, persons whose inner life presents strange affinities to his own. Discoursing in his peculiar way upon the mysteries of religious experience, he evokes recognitions of brotherhood from the Spanish Catholic and the Russian Greek;[364] no wonder, therefore, when mysticism in England found for itself such a voice in the middle of the seventeenth century, that it soon drew within the circle of its fellowship thousands who were waiting for its call.

The rise of Quakerism must be sought in the life of its founder. If ever the child was father to the man, it certainly was so in the case of George Fox. Born of[350] humble but virtuous parents—his father, Christopher, an honest weaver, winning amongst his companions the name of "righteous Christer;" his mother, Mary Lago, a pure-minded woman, sprung from a family stock which had borne fruits of martyrdom—he was not likely in his early days to see much of immorality, nor were the folks who crossed his parents' threshold, and whom the boy heard talking round the hearth-stone, likely to be otherwise than of the better sort in morals; yet their cheerfulness and mirth shocked little George so much, that he would say within himself, "If ever I come to be a man surely I will not be so wanton." He was too precocious to like childish games, and shewed his activity of intellect and depth of feeling in strange questions about religion, and in ways of worship unlike his mother's. When only eleven, he had inward monitions, inclining him to an ascetic life, and impulses which two hundred years earlier would have made a youth of his stamp an exemplary monk. Apprenticed to a dealer in leather and wool, who bred sheep for the sake of the fleece, George was set to watch the flocks, and in his shepherd life he found "a just emblem of his after ministry and service." As he grew older, men admired the justness of his dealings, and in his "verily" found what was more than equivalent to another man's oath, so that it became a proverb, "If George says verily there is no altering him." When business or persuasion took him to the market or the fair, his righteous soul was vexed with what he saw and heard—for even drinking healths appeared offensive—and he would return from the gaiety of the gathering to mourn in secret, through sleepless nights, over the world's vanity and sin. He resolved to separate from his acquaintances and to spend a life of retirement and devotion. None of the professions of religion in those[351] days met his views. The Episcopal Church seemed little better than the world—Baptists and Independents were not sufficiently spiritual—current forms of theology did not supply the necessities of the young enquirer—and therefore in solitude and fasting, in the Scriptures, and in communion with his own deep thoughts, George Fox sought to satisfy the hunger of his soul.[365]

The intellectual character of this remarkable person is not easily measured. Possessing little of the logical faculty, eschewing argumentative forms of thought, and altogether ignorant of Baconian methods of induction, he had nevertheless a keen, lightning-like power of penetrating hidden truths and of laying open secret things. By intuitive perception he reached spiritual truths. He felt a great deal to be right which he could not prove to be so; and much which to men of another mould seemed occult and shadowy, to him appeared firmer than the earth on which he trod. He cared not for the coverings of truth, the nakeder it was to him the better. He could boast of no poetical imagination, yet he possessed a prodigious power of realizing what he believed, and had he been a school-man, he would have been as decided a Realist as Thomas Aquinas.

George Fox had strong sympathies with what is spiritual everywhere and in all things, but especially with what is so in religion. As in striving after truth he was ever breaking shells to get at kernels, so in his pantings for fellowship with God, which constituted the most pressing need of his nature, he was intolerant of forms. He had no patience with any ceremonial avenues by which to walk up to the temple of the Eternal, but rather longed for an eagle's wing to fly at once to the mount of God; forgetful, in his[352] sincere raptures, of the conditions of humanity, and not considering that in the pursuit of the noblest as of the humblest ends, mortals cannot dispense with means, and that we are all of us two-sided beings, needing helps from without to strengthen and preserve what is most Divine within.

In morals his character was more than unimpeachable. Rarely has a man been found so just and true, so virtuous and temperate, so benevolent and pacific; although, withal, so bold, and even severe in rebuking falsehood, hypocrisy, and every kind of sin. His moral indignation, which was sometimes misplaced, made him forgetful of the courtesies of life, and the rudeness which he thus displayed served to increase both the animosity and the number of his enemies.[366]

Mysticism formed his whole character. It penetrated his intellect. It pervaded his spirit. It was the soul of his religion, and the mainspring of his morality. It inspired him with the love of solitude and the love of nature. To get away from his fellow-creatures to commune with himself, and with God, amidst the solitudes of creation, became his chief delight. Not that when he speaks of wandering in fields and orchards, and of getting into the depths of forests, and the hollows of trees, it was with a poet's perception of nature's mysteries. He rather wished, whilst away from the noisy world, in the deep silence of a summer's noon or a winter's night, to open his inmost self to the Spirit of God, to uncover the hidden harp that an invisible finger might touch the strings; to walk in an inward light, to enjoy the indwelling Christ, and to receive revelations of truth and love from those pure realms where they everlastingly reign. George Fox[353] often deluded himself, and mistook for the Divine what was merely human: but that the Holy Ghost wrought within his heart in a powerful manner, who can doubt? His errors were often the shadows of everlasting verities; some of his aberrations came from noble self-denying impulses; and with respect to him it might be aptly said, "And e'en the light that led astray was light from heaven."

The solitary became ascetic, as was natural. He denied himself the common comforts of life, he would not eat and drink like other people, and for a while he belied the name of "friend," and walked about like a hermit or a ghost. "And when he came into a town, he took a chamber to himself there, and tarried sometimes a month, sometimes more, sometimes less, in a place; for he was afraid of staying long in any place, lest, being a tender young man, he should be hurt by too familiar a conversation with men."[367] He had deep spiritual exercises of soul. No one could be more conscious of the existence of evil powers—of Satanic agencies in the invisible world to which the inner nature of man belongs even in the present life. But applying to himself the holy words, "in returning and in rest shall ye be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength," he sought refuge from his mysterious troubles by abiding "under the shadow of the Almighty." Describing his experience when he was pressed by the greatest of mystical problems, he says:—"One morning, as I was sitting by the fire, a great cloud came over me, and a temptation beset me; but I sat still. And it was said, 'All things come by nature,' and the elements and stars came over me, so that I was in a manner quite clouded with it. But as I sat still,[354] and said nothing, the people of the house perceived nothing. And as I sat still under it, and let it alone, a living hope arose in me, and a true voice which said:—'There is a living God, who made all things,' and immediately the cloud and temptation vanished away, and life rose over it all; my heart was glad, and I praised the living God."[368]

Fox was mighty in prayer. So great an effect he produced on one occasion, that the persons present felt as if the house were shaken by a mighty wind and the day of Pentecost had once more fully come; and Penn declared: "The most awful living reverent frame I ever felt or beheld, I must say, was his in prayer."[369] By Fox's public teaching he became more widely known, and exerted an influence which has lasted from that day to this. Believing in the fundamental doctrines of Christianity,[370] and regarding them in an anti-Calvinistic light, strong in a simple Evangelical faith, but without any theological discipline of thought, preferring the language of Scripture to the words of men—he added to all this, as the first-fruit of his mystical tendencies, a belief in the "inward light," even the revelation of Christ in the soul, not as superseding holy Scripture, but as its necessary witness and its gracious supplement. He dwelt very largely upon redemption through Christ, as consisting in deliverance from sin, not simply from its guilt, but from its power;—a view of salvation of the very last importance, and one which had been, at least partially, obscured through the prominence given by some theologians of the day to the doctrine of pardon, and the change effected in our legal relationship by the work of Christ, without a due exhibition of[355] the moral change in the heart and life which forms so important an aspect of the one salvation of the Gospel of God. He dwelt much on the subject of man's deliverance from sin itself—from its power and practice—which the Divine Redeemer had accomplished. Ideas of human perfectibility through Christ[371] blended with Fox's conceptions of holiness and of the work of the Spirit; and his notion of Christianity as a purely spiritual system[372] led to further peculiarities which, in fact, chiefly distinguished this remarkable teacher in the estimation of contemporaries. Hence sprang his opposition to sacraments, to ceremonies, and to forms of prayer, and also his delight in the exercises of silent worship. Hence, too, his dislike to all compulsory support of the ministry, whether by tithes or taxation; together with a horror of human priesthoods, and even of any order of Christian teachers educated and exclusively set apart for the service. His condemnation of the use of oaths and of the practice of war resulted from his reverence for the Supreme Being, and from the deep sympathies of his benevolent nature with the pacific spirit of the Gospel.

But his oddities attracted still more notice than his preaching. He wore very long hair, and clothed himself in a suit of leather; things, however, of which too much has been made by his biographers, seeing that this sort of dress was worn only for a time, and was adapted for rough use, while it was not so very strange in an age of leather doublets. Nor was his numbering the days of the week, instead of calling them by their usual names, so peculiar[356] as is supposed, since it appears to have been the practice of Independents and Baptists to do the same. Nor did "thee" and "thou" sound so strange as in the present day. But the stern refusal to take off his hat before anybody, even before magistrates; the violence with which he assailed "priests," and all ministers; the terms he applied to parish churches, calling them "steeple-houses;" the encouragement he gave to the preaching of women; and the manner in which he publicly testified against evil, made this spiritual reformer appear a most eccentric personage, and brought down upon him ridicule and abuse, and a great deal of what was very much worse.[373] His testimonies were delivered at wakes, at fairs, at inns, in courts of justice, and in places of worship. When the bell rang for church, it smote his soul as a sign that the Gospel was going to be sold, not given without money and without price; and off the honest enthusiast went to the steeple-house, to interrupt the minister, and protest against his ministry. This, of course, could not be tolerated, and presently he found himself shut up in filthy cells, or set in the public stocks. The punishment was severe, monstrously and beyond all proportion to the offence, but the offender clearly put himself in a false position. With no taste for Gothic architecture, looking upon cathedrals as popish mass-houses, he could not endure the sight of the beautiful spires of Lichfield; so, pulling off his shoes, he walked through the streets, and thinking of pagan persecutions[357] there in old times, cried "Woe, woe to the bloody city."[374] The magistrates of Derby most unjustly convicted him of blasphemy, under the late Act against atheistical opinions, and sentenced him to six months' confinement in the House of Correction. He subsequently moderated some of his excesses, but this did not secure him against outrageous persecutions and intolerable sufferings. The Quaker reveals his character as he tells his story. "When the Lord first sent me forth in the year 1643, I was sent as an innocent lamb (and young in years) amongst (men in the nature of) wolves, dogs, bears, lions and tigers into the world, which the devil had made like a wilderness, no right way then found out of it. And I was sent to turn people from darkness to the light, which Christ, the Second Adam, did enlighten them withal; that so they might see Christ, their way to God, with the Spirit of God, which He doth pour upon all flesh, that with it they might have an understanding to know the things of God, and to know Him, and His Son, Jesus Christ, which is eternal life; and so might worship and serve the living God, their maker and creator, who takes care for all, who is Lord of all; and with the light and Spirit of God they might know the Scriptures, which were given forth from the Spirit of God in the saints, and holy men and women of God.

"And when they began to be turned to the light (which is the life in Christ) and the Spirit of God, which gave them an understanding, and had found the path of the just, the shining light, then did the wolves, dogs, dragons, bears, lions, tigers, wild beasts and birds of prey make a roaring and a screeching noise against the lambs, sheep, doves, and children of Christ, and were ready to de[358]vour them and me, and to tear us in pieces. But the Lord's arm and power did preserve me; though many times I was in danger of my life, and very often cast into dungeons and prisons, and haled before magistrates. But all things did work together for good, and the more I was cast into outward prisons, the more people came out of their spiritual and inward prisons (through the preaching of the Gospel). But the priests and professors were in such a great rage, and made the rude and profane people in such a fury, that I could hardly walk in the streets, or go in the highways, but they were ready oft-times to do me a mischief. But Christ, who hath all power in heaven and in the earth, did so restrain and limit them with His power, that my life was preserved; though many times I was near killed.

"Oh! the burdens and travels that I went under! Often my life pressed down under the spirits of professors and teachers without life, and the profane! And besides, the troubles afterwards with backsliders, apostates, and false brethren, which were like so many Judases in betraying the truth, and God's faithful and chosen seed, and causing the way of truth to be evil spoken of! But the Lord blasted, wasted, and confounded them, so that none did stand long; for the Lord did either destroy them or bring them to nought, and His truth did flourish, and His people in it, to the praise of God, who is the revenger of His chosen."[375]

Fox appeared before the Lord Protector. The meeting of the two at Whitehall must have been a remarkable scene. Both mystical, but in different degrees—both enthusiastic in religion, and perhaps equally sincere in the most erratic[359] forms of their respective faiths—the man in power excelled in that practical shrewdness and common sense, which were not altogether wanting in his persecuted brother; and, while the latter was throwing the religious world into disturbance, the former aimed at restoring it to order. Cromwell reproached Fox for opposing the regular clergy. Fox told Cromwell that all Christendom had the Scriptures; but that those who preached were destitute of the Spirit by which the Scriptures were written. Thus two strong wills came into collision. But when the Quaker went on lovingly to talk upon the mysteries of spiritual experience, it touched the heart of the Lord Protector at once; and pressing his friend's hand, whom he allowed to wear his hat in his presence, he said: "Come again to my house; if thou and I were together but one hour in every day we should be nearer to each other. I wish you no more ill than I do to my own soul."

Fox had many followers,[376] and the character of the master reproduced itself in his disciples. Organization in so large a body soon became a necessity; and, in spite of the extreme spiritualism of the system, the Quakers were consolidated into a sect, having a gradation of ecclesiastical courts, under the name of "meetings," as elaborate as those of completed Presbyterianism, yet vesting all power in the people, and combining liberty with subordination. Some early Quaker preachers vied with Fox in simplicity, earnestness, and courage. Edward Burroughs, a man of great spirituality and power, would[360] step into the wrestlers' ring—as lusty peasants on a summer's evening kept up the ancient sports on the village green—and speak to the rustic spectators with "a heart-piercing power." He thundered against sin—to use the Scripture-coloured language of his admirers, and broke stony hearts; his bow never turned back, and his sword returned not empty from the slaughter of the mighty. "And, although coals of fire, as it were, came forth of his mouth, to the consuming of briars and thorns; and he, passing through unbeaten paths, trampled upon wild thistles and luxuriant tares, yet his wholesome doctrine dropped as the oil of joy upon the spirits of the mourners in Zion."[377] But there were people numbered amongst the Quakers—for the term was widely and vaguely applied—who had not the wisdom and gentleness of Edward Burroughs. One at least of these persons—in imitation of the Oriental method of teaching by signs, as seen in the Hebrew prophets; and also after the manner of the Russian anchorites—went forth in public stripped and naked, making a wailing like the dragons, and a mourning as the owls. George Fox himself says: "the Lord made one to go naked among you, a figure of thy nakedness, and as a sign amongst you, before your destruction cometh, that you might see that you were naked and not covered with the truth."[378] But, notwithstanding he speaks of this singular manifestation in such terms, he is not to be held responsible for the manifestation itself. Nothing of the kind occurred in his own history, nor, as far as we can discover, in that of any distinguished, or of even any recognized member of the Society of Friends in this country.[379]

[361]

In the "Broadmead Records" strange suspicions about Quakerism are expressed, and tales are told to shew how "the Papists, by their emissaries and agents, did promote this error and delusion." A public declaration of the magistrates of Bristol testified to the same effect.[380] But nothing appears beyond surmises. Some people in those days, like some people still, were wild upon the subject of Romanism, and fancied that they saw the print of the Papacy all over the country.[381] The source of this terror has been already explained; and, looking at what was then attributed to the Roman Catholics, we see that the feeling, under the circumstances, is not wonderful. Impartial historians of the present day, however, will require more than vague rumours, and unsupported accusations, to convince them of the existence of a scheme so subtle and so unreasonable. That Rome could promote its interests through the spread of Quakerism seems an idea even more absurd than the current story of the Queen's Jesuit confessor, plotting the death of Charles, and riding up and down the street before Whitehall upon the day of the monarch's execution with a drawn sword in his hand. How could Franciscans, in the garb of Quakers, fail to be detected by Quakers themselves, who of all sectaries perhaps, most hated Popery? How can the activity of[362] well-known preachers amongst them—who loathed the ritual and the polity of Rome, and who were sincere in following the inward light in opposition to all human authority whatever—be reasonably believed to have received support from Catholic intriguers?[382]

The amount of persecution inflicted upon Quakers by magistrates and by mobs during the Commonwealth is almost incredible. "Fox's Journal" and "Sewel's History" abound in examples of the cruelties which they endured. Cromwell's latter Parliaments disliked Quakers as much as other people did; but Cromwell himself, although disapproving of their disorderly conduct, shewed mercy to the offenders. Treatment such as they generally received reflects, beyond anything else, upon the character of the times for toleration and Christian justice. England at large could not have learned the doctrines of religious liberty, and must have been sadly out of sympathy with Cromwell and others, to have inflicted such wanton barbarities upon people who were harmless as a rule, and mischievous only in a few exceptions. As they quietly worshipped God, parish ministers would rush into their places of meeting—accompanied by people armed with staves, cudgels, pitchforks, "and such like armour"—and interrupt the Quaker preacher more than any Quaker preacher at the very worst had ever interrupted them. Yet, under these circumstances, the poor Quakers disturbed—not the people disturbing—were[363] hustled off to gaol. Katherine Evans, who publicly exhorted the citizens in Salisbury market-place, was whipped for the first offence, and for the second was thrown into the "blind-house," the worst part of the bridewell.[383]

The justices of Exeter, in the month of June, 1656, made an order of sessions to apprehend as vagrants all Quakers travelling without a pass:[384] and the year afterwards a Bill came before Parliament to the same effect, supported by Major-General Desborough, Mr. Bampfield, an Independent, and Sir Christopher Pack, a Presbyterian.[385]

James Nayler brought much dishonour on the whole sect. The nineteenth century, with all its rationalism, has seen Joanna Southcote, and her numerous disciples. The seventeenth, with all its fanaticism, witnessed, in the greatest enthusiast of the age, less absurdity, and with him a smaller following than we have witnessed even in our own time. Though Nayler was a convert of George Fox, George Fox regarded Nayler with some suspicion, "struck with a fear," as he said, "and being, as it were, under a sense of some great disaster that was like to befal him."[386] Nayler's fall grieved the hearts of his own[364] people, and filled the whole country with exaggerated reports of his shame. While a sufferer in Exeter gaol, his deluded followers addressed him as "the Everlasting Son, the Prince of Peace, the fairest among ten thousand." He fancied himself possessed of the Divine nature in some inexplicable way. Reports were circulated that he pretended to raise to life one Dorcas Erbery two days after her death. Liberated from gaol, he marched through Glastonbury and Wells, men and women walking before him, bareheaded, and strewing the ground with their clothes, in imitation of what was done at Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. At Bristol people shouted as he passed along, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Israel, Hosanna in the highest." In prison he received greetings from fanatics who sung hymns to him, and cried, in Scripture words: "Rise up, my love, my dove, my fair one, and come away: why sittest thou among the pots?" This national scandal, as the Parliament deemed it, could, in their judgment, be washed out only by pains and penalties; a fact which has received attention in our account of the second Protectorate Parliament. Although a fanatic, James Nayler demands justice. It has been rarely meted out to him. His fanaticism was mystical. He had a notion of some extraordinary indwelling of the Spirit within his soul, which he enjoyed, as he supposed, not in consequence of his own superiority, but entirely from abounding grace. Not himself, but the indwelling Lord, he deemed the object of the honours paid—honours, it would appear, volunteered by enthusiasts who were madder than himself. This point is largely noticed in his trial.[387] Things were laid to his charge which he denied, and he distinctly[365] repudiated the pretence of raising the dead. Most important of all is the fact that he repented of his folly, and published a recantation of his errors in several forms.[388]

The Quakers lamented Nayler's madness and backsliding, and they must not be held responsible for his aberrations, although they humanely sympathized with him in his sufferings, which were both unrighteously inflicted, and patiently endured. Nobody now will vindicate the treatment he received; yet few besides members of his own sect condemned it then. To the honour of Lord Fairfax's Presbyterian chaplain, Joshua Sprigg, it should be mentioned that he, with thirty other petitioners, personally sought, at the hands of Parliament, some mitigation of the culprit's doom.[389]

Certain parties under the Commonwealth had the habit—and the fashion still exists—of exaggerating the number of religious denominations. Ephraim Pagitt—in his "Heresiography," published in 1654—gives a list of between forty and fifty sects: the historical worth of which enumeration we may estimate, when we observe that he distinguishes between Anabaptists and plunged Anabaptists—between Separatists and semi-Separatists—between Brownists and Barrowists—and then proceeds to specify three orders of Familists. Edwards, in his "Gangræna," with the strongest wish to make the most of his subject, cannot advance beyond the enumeration[366] of sixteen kinds of schismatics: but immediately impeaches his own distinctions, by informing us that one and the same society of persons were Anabaptistical, Antinomian, Manifestarian, Libertine, Socinian, Millenary, Independent, and enthusiastical.[390] Our distrust is increased by a subjoined catalogue of one hundred and seventy-six errors, swollen by statements of substantially the same thing in varied forms of words, and by the inclusion of all sorts of trivial opinions and absurd vagaries. Edwards also gives another catalogue of "particular practices," twenty-eight in number; besides an array of "blasphemies" culled from sectarian prayers. Adopting such methods, there is no religious denomination which we might not subdivide at pleasure. A dozen different names may, with a little ingenuity, be given to almost every Church upon earth; and thus twelve different Churches may be made out of one.

Baxter mentions only five, in addition to the larger religious parties. He describes the minor sects as Vanists, Seekers, Ranters, Quakers, and Behmenists. With all his power of analysis, however, he very unsatisfactorily performs his task; for it is idle to represent Vane as the founder of a sect, and the chief reason why the Kidderminster polemic placed him in this category seems to be, that he honestly disliked the man, and that he had been "a means to lessen his reputation."[391] The account of the Seekers, many of whom, according to his statement, were "Papists and Infidels," runs into that of the Ranters. The Quakers he describes as Ranters, turned from profaneness and blasphemy to asceticism. With the writings of[367] Jacob Behmen it appears that Baxter had little acquaintance. But he mentions, as chief of the English Behmenists, one Pordage, who had "sensible communion with angels," who was acquainted with spirits "by sights and smells," who fought fiery dragons, and who saw an impression upon the wall of his house representing a coach drawn by lions and tigers, which could not be removed without pickaxes.[392] The record of such idle rumours, whilst it does not raise our opinion of Baxter as a historian of religious sects—for the man he describes seems to have been a lunatic—gives some little insight into the psychological curiosities of the times, and brings us into acquaintance with "spiritualists" of the seventeenth century.

Besides Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Independents, Baptists, and Quakers, there were no sects, properly so called—no groups of professing Christians distinctly organized. Socinianism, however, existed. John Biddle—who has been already noticed in connection with the proceedings of Cromwell's first Parliament—contended, at a public disputation in St. Paul's with Griffin, a Baptist minister, that Christ was not the Most High God, and this man never lost an opportunity of avowing Unitarian sentiments.[393] But he founded no party, nor are there traces of any separate congregations under the Commonwealth maintaining similar views. There was also much floating mysticism. The theology of Jacob Behmen, through an "Account of his Life and Writings," written in English, produced some effect in this country. The spiritualism of that extraordinary person—akin to the "Theologia Germanica"—anticipated in "Tauler's Sermons"—and possessing some affinity to certain Lutheran principles, fed[368] the devotion of English transcendentalists. Notwithstanding its errors and visionary fancies, on its better side it nourished a spirit of self-abnegation, protested against formality, exposed the dangers of dogmatical dispute, opposed High Calvinism, and pronounced millenarian speculations as of little profit. And, independently of all foreign culture, mysticism, deeply rooted in humanity, grew freely on Anglo-Saxon soil; not always with quiet grace, as in the Cambridge school under the husbandry of learning, but with twisted roots, gnarled trunks, and oddly-forked branches, bent and torn by those political and theological storms which swept so wildly over the whole country. But mysticism of this description did not settle down into any sectarian type. It has been common to pass strong and indiscriminate votes of censure upon all the Commonwealth theology which was leavened by an element of this kind; but now that such theology is better understood, because more carefully studied, the universal application of such censure is seen to be exceedingly unfair.

Mysticism, in German and English books of the better class, is opposed to Antinomianism; but, no doubt, mysticism existed in the middle of the seventeenth century in close alliance with high predestinarian opinions, and with very loose views of moral obligation and responsibility. Dr. Tobias Crisp, a Puritan clergyman, who died in 1643, was the most distinguished Divine of the Antinomian class; yet, although unguarded and violent in his theoretical statements to the very last degree, he is described as having been a man of undeniable Christian virtue. Habits of thinking like his—not marking the boundaries of a sect—pervaded, in all probability, many minds which, by an inconsistency happily for mankind very common, were preserved, through the force of better[369] impulses, from carrying their principles into practice. But Antinomianism did, in some cases, become practical, if heed be given to contemporary reports. Monstrous excesses were committed by individuals;[394] and communities arose, called Families of Love, amidst which, according to contemporary pamphlets, a shameless immorality prevailed.[395] These monstrous outgrowths of fanaticism, however, as we might expect from their very nature, were but short-lived; and they mostly belonged to the soldiery during the continuance of the Civil Wars. In short, things of this sort formed the filthy surf thrown up by lashed waters, and disappeared when the storm had subsided.

We may name, in addition, four eccentric, if not crazy, individuals, called founders of sects, who in their strangeness really represented only themselves. The first was John Robins, who pretended to work miracles, to ride on the winds, and to exhibit angels and other supernatural sights—proclaiming himself to be an incarnation of the Deity; the second was John Tawney, the high priest of this Robins, and who joined with him in a commission to lead a company of followers to Jerusalem; and the third and fourth, men equally hare-brained, were named Reeve and Muggleton, who called themselves the witnesses predicted in Revelation, and who said they were able by fire to devour their adver[370]saries. These fanatics cursed everybody who did not agree with them. It is useless to pursue the subject further. Enough has been said to prove that the number of sects under the Commonwealth has been enormously exaggerated; that various opinions were held then, as now, without forming distinct ecclesiastical communions; and that the greatest absurdities were little more than the hallucinations of individual minds.[396]

CHAPTER XIV.

As in the histories of the English nation, so in histories of the English Church, the individual, domestic, and social condition of the people has been too much overlooked; public ecclesiastical affairs have been allowed almost completely to overshadow private religious customs and habits. Yet if we would fully understand what our ancestors were, and truly estimate their character under its moral aspect, and in its spiritual relations, we must enter as far as we can within the circle of their inner Church life and their home retirements. Happily, materials exist for the illustration of this important part of the ecclesiastical history of England during the Civil Wars and the Commonwealth.

I. Episcopalians were deprived of the privilege of baptism according to their own cherished formularies. Had the law only prohibited the open celebration of that service, the hardship would have been less than it was; inasmuch as christenings in the house had become common in the Stuart period, and the display made on such occasions had been often made the subject of complaint and rebuke. The ordinance of 1645 prohibited the use of Episcopal Church services in private as well as in public. But notwithstanding this circumstance, many a clergyman ran the risk of still wearing a surplice, of still making the sign of the[372] cross, and of still repeating those words which had become dearer to him than ever, from the very fact of the peril which was now connected with their employment.

The Directory described the legalized mode of celebrating the initiatory rite of the Gospel. Private members of the Church were by that authority forbidden to perform it; its administration being lodged, it was said, in "the hands of the Stewards of the mysteries of God." Great importance was attached to the publicity of the ceremony; the law requiring it to be conducted in a place where the whole act of worship could be seen and heard, and not in a dark corner of the church, where—to use the words of the Directory—"fonts in the time of Popery were unfitly and superstitiously placed." The Presbyterians explained baptism as the seal of ingrafting into Christ—the right to which formed the inheritance of the seed of believers, who were pronounced to be "holy before baptism, and therefore are they to be baptized." The inward virtue was not tied in its communication to the time of administering the ordinance. Its fruit and power, it was said, "reacheth to the whole course of our life; and that outward baptism is not so necessary, that through the want thereof the infant is in danger of damnation, or the parents guilty, if they do not contemn or neglect the ordinance of Christ, when and where it may be had." Instruction to that effect was to be given when the service took place; then prayer was to be offered for "sanctifying the water to this spiritual use"—the element being applied by means of pouring or sprinkling.[373][397] The service was concluded with thanksgiving and supplication, for which suitable topics were suggested by the Directory. The staid Puritan matron, in raiment simple as it was pure, came to church accompanied by her husband—also dressed in Puritan garb—who presented the child to the minister and announced its name. Names savouring of Paganism and Popery were decidedly forbidden, and sometimes, no doubt, peculiar ones taken from Scripture were chosen; yet, in this respect, the Puritans of the Commonwealth only followed a custom which had been common in the reigns of James I. and Charles I. Any strange Christian names which might be borne by men and women under the Protectorate must have been given by a parent at that earlier period, and can therefore be no just reason for ridiculing the persons to whom they belonged. Care was taken in the ordinance which established the Directory to require that there should be a book of vellum provided for the registration of baptisms; but the unsettled condition of the times in some cases rendered the provision nugatory. For example, the Vicar of Lowestoft states that, in 1645, he and many others were taken prisoners by Colonel Cromwell, so that, for some time, there existed neither minister nor clerk in the town, and "the inhabitants were obliged to procure one another to baptize their children"—consequently baptisms could not be properly registered.[398]

That baptisms should be in public was required by the Independents no less than by the Presbyterians; nor would the former, in general, object to what the Directory prescribed, except that they disliked set forms, and preferred "the administration of the seals," as they termed them, by the minister in his own way, "accord[374]ing to the occasion." It is mentioned as a practice amongst the Independents, that one minister preached and another performed the rite of baptism after the sermon.[399]

II. The education of the young received much attention in Puritan times. Devout parents were anxious that their children should be well instructed in the truths of Christianity, and for this purpose they used certain approved catechisms. That which was prepared by the Assembly of Divines soon superseded all others. Schools, whether conducted by an Anglican priest or by a Puritan presbyter, were remarkable both for the thorough drilling which the younger pupils received in the rudiments of the dead languages, and for the use of the higher classics by elder boys in the upper forms. Such boys were required to talk during school hours in Latin, "under a penalty if they either spoke English or broke Priscian's head;" but if their Latinity was barbarous and not ungrammatical, they were subject simply to the derision of their juvenile critics. The study of Greek authors was also cultivated, and school exercises in that department took a shape bearing upon the illustration of Scripture, and sometimes presented very amusing examples. A "great anti-Puritan" schoolmaster is mentioned as being particularly careful to observe in profane authors all allusions to the contents of the Bible; and so quick were his eyes in detecting these that he would gravely tell his boys that the words, "ubi nuper arârat," in Ovid's story of Deucalion's flood, had in them a strange allusion, (he would not say whether intended or accidental,) to the Mountain of Ararat on which rested Noah's ark.[400] The tutors of the upper classes were ambitious of improving[375] upon earlier methods, avoiding "the miseducation of the gentry," over which Bishop Hall, in one of his letters, pours out very characteristic lamentations.[401] William Greenhill—the Independent minister of Stepney—in the Dedication prefixed to one of his works, compliments the Princess Elizabeth upon her resolution to write out with her own princely hand the Holy Oracles in the original, thus breeding hopes that she would excel her sex throughout Europe, as Drusius said of his son, who, when five years old, learned Hebrew, and at twelve could write it extempore, both in prose and verse.[402] Discipline seems to have been equally strict at home and at school; and the young Puritan was taught in his earliest days to regard life as a very grave and serious business. He had to pass through long seasons of fasting and prayer, and to listen to sermons of three hours' duration, from which he was required to carry home "the minister's method," duly drawn out in heads and particulars.[403]

[376]

III. When Puritan young ladies and gentlemen had reached a fitting age, and began to think of a union for life—after courtship had been commenced in earnest, and the lovers' knot had been tied—there came what was called the handfasting, which was a sort of solemn espousal, and upon this event a day was spent in praying and hearing a sermon, and in forming a contract, which bound the parties to wed each other.

When the Presbyterian minister had received a certificate of the banns having been published, he might solemnize the marriage on any day excepting one of public humiliation; although the Directory advised that[377] it should not be on a Lord's Day.[404] After an address had been delivered, and the usual charge had been given, as to whether the parties were aware of any impediment to their union, the man and woman, taking each other by the hand, promised to be loving and faithful to each other until God should separate them by death. Then, without any further ceremony, the minister pronounced them to be husband and wife, and "concluded the action with prayer." When several persons were present, it was not an uncommon thing for a sermon to be preached.[405]

Old English wedding customs had been rather wild and rude. Amidst plenty of music and dancing, with perhaps a masque and other sports, the bride had appeared adorned with garlands, when her head was touched with the sole of a shoe, in token of subjection to her future lord. Stockings were flung at the fair one; and on the sideboard, in addition to the bride-cake, bays and rosemary (the latter dipped in scented water) played an important part in the marriage feast. Sheffield knives were presented, to be worn, one each in the girdle of bride and bridegroom; gloves, scarfs, points, and laces, were also fashionable offerings on the happy occasion. But Puritans, shocked at the superstition which animated some ancient usages, and at the indelicacy and grossness of others, became sparing in[378] the use of symbols, and contracted the entertainments of the most joyous day of human life so as to bring them within very narrow dimensions. It might indeed be said, in the words of an old play, "We see no ensigns of a wedding here—no character of a bridal; where be our scarfs and gloves?"[406]

John Howe speaks of "Emanuel, God with us," as the motto of a married pair, and as "the posy on their wedding ring;" but with some persons, even the use of that simple and beautiful sign now stood in jeopardy, from the supposed paganism of its remote origin. Whatever might be the speeches made at wedding feasts, no healths would be drunk, for such a practice was distinctly forbidden. Yet innocent mirth, according to the taste of the persons assembled, would not be wanting; nor did they need any commiseration for the absence of what they did not relish, and what it would have been really a sacrifice for them to adopt. Presents of substantial worth sometimes graced these festivals; and a silver bowl, given at Oliver Heywood's nuptials, continued for many years an heirloom in the family.

IV. The ideal of the Puritan woman is one of the fairest types of womanhood—face full of the beautifulness of modesty; eyes lustrous with the calm light of devotion; countenance expressive of firmness and gentleness, meekness and love; dress of subdued colour—of silk, or stuff, according to the wearer's rank; kerchief white as snow; no "plaiting of hair," but locks tucked back, smooth and glossy as a raven's wing. The bashful maiden sat in her garden bower, with lute and psalm-book; the matron, with her waiting women, in the fair oak parlour after morning prayer, her character formed[379] on King Lemuel's model, "seeking wool and flax, and working willingly with her hands;" laying her hands to the spindle, and her hands holding the distaff; stretching forth her hand to the poor, reaching forth her hands to the needy; opening her mouth with wisdom, while on her tongue is the law of kindness; looking well to the ways of her household, and not eating the bread of idleness. This is a lovelier type of female humanity than can be found in any of Lily's pictures of Charles II.'s beauties, with luscious lips and dainty lovelocks—with their outward adorning, and wearing of gold, and putting on of apparel. Modern painters, with the instinctive insight of genius, see and appreciate the fact, and hence depict, not the Puritan in love with the Cavalier's daughter, but the Cavalier in love with the Puritan girl.

Puritan houses exhibited Scripture texts upon the doors and over the fire-places; also upon the baby's cot, and even upon a wooden skillet or a copper kettle. Godly verses hung on the walls, forming decorations destitute of all beauty, save such as might exist in the meaning of the words printed in rude type and upon coarse paper. The ladies, in fair white stomachers and silken skirts, plied their needles or read their books. A few conned the Greek Testament or spelt out the Hebrew Bible. Lips and the lute yielded fair music; but in some cases a large induction from the study of natural history seems to have been considered necessary to vindicate the recreation, for it was sagely observed: "Of all beasts, saith Ælian, there is not that delighteth not in harmony only the ass; strange would it be for man to love it not." It ought in this connection, however, to be remembered that the songs of the seventeenth century were not generally of a kind to commend themselves to minds distinguished by purity; and therefore, amongst religious and virtuous[380] persons, a prejudice extensively obtained against all music except such as was sacred.

V. Family worship was maintained with conscientious regularity, but was sometimes carried to a most wearisome length. In earlier days, Presbyterians had been cautious in their prolonged devotions, lest they should be interrupted by their neighbours, and had even adopted the very strange expedient of posting a boy by the gate, to sing and shout, for the purpose of deadening the voice of the individual who might be engaged in domestic supplication. When alarming events occurred, persons of this description would spend whole nights in the exercises of devotion; and Oliver Heywood, referring to one of these seasons, remarks: "Such a night of prayers, tears, and groans, I was never present at in all my life."[407] Whilst in the days of the Civil Wars and the Protectorate the Puritans had full liberty of worship, their Episcopalian neighbours were obliged to take the place of those whom they had previously persecuted; and the reader of "Woodstock" will, perhaps, call to mind Sir Henry Lee, in his wicker chair, listening to an old man, in a dilapidated clerical habit, reading prayers, as Alice knelt at her father's feet, uttering "responses with a voice that might have suited a choir of angels." The picture is no doubt over-coloured, and may express a deceptive kind of sentimentalism; yet the circumstances of domestic worship in the dwelling of a High Church family would not be unlike the graphic sketch supplied by the great novelist.

Puritanical servants were ill at ease in houses where young gentlewomen learned to play, and dance, and sing; but they breathed a congenial atmosphere in places where the means of grace were amply enjoyed, and a rigid[381] discipline was firmly maintained. An individual of this class has minutely detailed his own history; and in it he describes himself as receiving hat-bands, doublet, coat, breeches, stockings, shoes, a cloak, and half-a-dozen pairs of cuffs, from his mistress, in the shape of a gratuity, besides some £5 a year wages. He waited—he says—upon her at table, brought the table-cloth and spread it out, laid upon the trenchers salt and bread, set her a chair, brought her the first dish, begged her to sit down, and supplied whatever she asked for. This footman used to write down the sermons which he heard, and repeated them noon and night on Sabbath and other "special days," thanking God, who provided him with "rich and fat ordinances" in the ministry of the Word.[408]

Where some members of a family remained faithful to the Episcopal Church—loving her liturgy, and frequenting the private meetings of her clergy—divisions might naturally be expected to arise; but sometimes also, even where all were under the power of a Puritan spirit, religious discord, contrary to all expectation, might be introduced. For instance, we are informed by Lucy Hutchinson that the home of Sir Thomas Fairfax suffered much disquiet from collisions of sentiment between his lady, a staunch Covenanter and Royalist, and certain Independent ministers holding republican views, who attended upon the General in the capacity of his chaplains.

VI. Scarcely anything more obviously marked out the Puritans as objects for the notice of the world than the manner in which they regarded the Lord's Day. They could not agree with Anglicans even as to its appellation; the word Sabbath, commonly used by the former class, being[382] much disliked by the latter. The Puritans claimed sanctity for all the hours of the day from morning until night; their neighbours accounted the hours spent in Divine service alone as holy.[409] The one party founded the whole observance entirely upon words of Scripture, the other mainly upon ecclesiastical tradition. The difference as to the mode of keeping the first day of the week was still more striking. High Churchmen approved of rural amusements after the celebration of public worship, and vindicated the "Book of Sports" as a wise regulation; an extravagance of opinion which drove their fellow-countrymen to an opposite extreme. Whether it were right even to take a walk on the Sunday became with them a serious question; and Baxter, whose health required that he should do so, remarks that he did it privately, lest he should lead other people into sin.[410] The lower orders would sometimes burst through the trammels of law, and would riotously attempt the revival of ancient sports; and it happened once, that upon Easter Sunday, a number of noisy apprentices met in Finsbury Fields to play at their favourite games, and, when the train bands had been sent to disperse them, the young men said that, since all other holydays had been abolished by law, no time of recreation remained but the Sabbath.

VII. Superstitious beliefs deeply tinged the religious and social life of the seventeenth century. There is in[383] human nature an ineradicable conviction of the presence throughout the universe of invisible and mysterious influences; and this conviction, in certain wild imaginary forms, is found in a number of instances to be a pitiable substitute for religion, and, in a still greater number, to be its unworthy companion, and the corrupter of its purity. One of the worst superstitions of this kind is that belief in witchcraft which, after being widely and fondly cherished in mediæval Christendom, was brought over into Protestant churches at the period of the Reformation.[411] An Act of Parliament in the reign of Queen Elizabeth—the Book on Dæmonology by King James—other works on the subject by less conspicuous authors[412]—articles of visitation issued by Bishops[413]—and even the writings of Lord Bacon and John Selden, bear witness to the existence of this delusion on an extensive scale in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Indeed, it hung at that time like a black cloud over all Europe, terrifying people of all countries, of all ranks, of all degrees of culture, and of all varieties of religious opinion.

The most terrible form of this superstition within the shores of Great Britain was to be found in Scotland. The enormous number of witches executed there proves the intense and general persuasion as to the reality of witchcraft which must at the time have existed in that country; and the vigorous and active faith in such diabolical agency manifested by the northern[384] inhabitants of our island could not fail to influence their southern brethren, with whom they were connected by so many bonds of religious association.[414] The common idea was, that witches possessed all sorts of mischievous power. Diseases, especially such as lay beyond the reach of medical art, mysterious pains and convulsions, even accidents and injuries from lightning, and also murrain amongst cattle, were by all classes of people laid at the doors of unfortunate old women who had wrinkled faces, or furrowed brows, or hairy lips, or a squinting eye, or a squeaking voice, or a hump back. It was, moreover, said, that the bewitched fell into fits when they tried to pronounce the name of "Lord," or Jesus, or Christ; but that they could glibly utter the words "Satan," or "Devil."[415] To check the demoniacal craft, witchfinders were employed, who drove a thriving trade at the expense of an inconceivable amount of suffering. Detectives of this order were busy in England, imported from beyond the Tweed,[416] and there were others of southern origin, possessing a wonderful skill for witch-catching altogether of indigenous growth. A genius of this description, the notorious Hopkins,[417] boasted of having[385] hanged no less than sixty of the infernal sisterhood in the county of Essex alone; and trials for these mysterious offences excited a curiosity, possessed a fascination, and inspired a terror such as, in our time, it is extremely difficult to imagine. The effect of all this upon private life amongst religious people, who had a strong faith in the spiritual world and in the agency of Satan, would be exceedingly great; and mainly for the illustration of this point our cursory notice of the subject has been introduced. Stories of dealers in the black art, and of the spells with which they bound men, women, and children, and how pins were extracted from those suffering under enchantment, would be related by the firesides of religious families throughout England during the Commonwealth; these miserable hallucinations making people tremble who were far too brave to shrink with fear from some other things which were really terrific. Tales of apparitions, dreams, and other mysterious occurrences, were not only mingled largely in the staple of such conversations, but they also formed topics of discussion in the correspondence of Divines.[418]

The belief in witchcraft, although so common in Puritan times, and even culminating in England under the Commonwealth,[419] was not, as already indicated, of Puritan origin; nor was it confined to Puritan religionists. Richard Baxter, indeed, dwelt much upon the subject, and derived from it arguments against the doctrines of materialism and the denial of revelation; but men of another[386] theological school, such as More and Cudworth, were equally believers in this form of the marvellous; and the same faith was held by the scientific Robert Boyle, and by Sir Thomas Brown, notwithstanding his exposure of "Vulgar Errors." Nor did this credulity, after all, produce in England an amount of mischief and suffering, great as it was, to be compared with what it did on the Continent before the Reformation, when as many as 500 people are said to have been executed at Geneva in one year, and the Inquisitor Remigius boasted that he had put 900 to death in the province of Lorraine.[420] Neither were there wanting in this country some who, when the rage for witch-burning was most rampant, protested against the whole system as an impious absurdity. In a curious tract, written by Thomas Adey, in the year 1656, entitled, "A Candle in the Dark; or, a Treatise concerning the Nature of Witches and Witchcraft," we meet with the following passage:—"It is reported by travellers that some people in America do worship for a day the first living creature they see in the morning, be it but a bird or a worm. This idolatry is like the idolatry of this part of the world, who, when they are afflicted in body or goods by God's hand, they have an eye to some mouse, or bug, or frog, or other living creature, saying it is some witch's imp that is sent to afflict them; ascribing the work of God to a witch, or any mean creature, rather than God." The writer also alludes to Reginald Scott, who had published a book, called "The Discovery of Witchcraft," in[387] the beginning of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and describes it as composed for the instruction of all Judges and Justices of that day; which book, he observes, did for a while make great impression on the magistracy, and also on the clergy, "but, since that time, England has shamefully fallen from the truth which they began to receive."

VIII. Clerical costume is worth at least one word. The Seventy-fourth Canon of the Church of England—and this Canon has never been repealed—prescribes very minutely that persons in holy orders shall, in ordinary, wear gowns with standing collars and hoods; and shall, when they are on a journey, be dressed in cloaks with sleeves, without welts, but with long buttons; and shall, when they are taking a walk, appear in doublet and hose, with coat or cassock, but not in light-coloured stockings. This law affords some idea of the garb of ministers in the days of Queen Elizabeth; and, with some little change, their garments would be similar in the days of the Stuarts. Ejected Episcopalians, in places where prejudice against them did not exist, would dress in this fashion. Some teachers belonging to the sects would clothe themselves just like other people; and leathern doublets, nay, even uniforms of buff or scarlet, might be seen in pulpits. But such Puritan instructors of the people as had received a University education retained their academic costume for general use; and, of course eschewing in acts of worship the surplice prescribed in the Fifty-eighth Canon, wore gowns of Genevan form, with bands; which latter appendages—judging from old portraits—varied in dimensions from their present cut to such ample breadths as to fall like a collar across the shoulders. Square caps were signs of Anglicanism; and the advocates of the opposite system rigidly refused to[388] wear any which were not round. The wigs so conspicuous in the portraits of early Nonconformists were the luxurious innovations of the period after the Restoration.[421]

IX. Churches were divested of Catholic adornments, except in the case of certain large and elegant edifices, which, as already remarked, shew in their present state how little injury was done to their sculpture, their carvings, or even their painted windows. Commonly, however, images were torn from their niches, screens were taken down in the Chancel, and plain glass substituted in windows for coloured panes. Walls became whitewashed, and exhibited a framed copy of the Covenant hung up in some conspicuous position. No rails enclosed the uncovered table of plain wood standing in the chancel, then altarless. No organ helped the service of song. Pews in continually-increasing number[422] covered[389] the floor of the nave; galleries in the side aisles also afforded accommodation for the multitudes who, in greater crowds than ever, flocked to hear the sermons of popular Divines. Reading-desks went out of fashion; and a precentor, instead of a clerk, occupied a seat under the pulpit—a heavy sounding-board aiding the preacher's voice, and the sands of the hour-glass measuring out the length of his discourses.[423] The general appearance of Gothic fabrics under Presbyterian rule resembled that of ancient parish churches and cathedrals in Holland, Switzerland, and Scotland. Indeed, St. Lawrence at Rotterdam, the Gross Minster of Zurich, and the Grey Friars in Edinburgh, may be regarded as specimens of the appearance which some of our large religious edifices wore before the Restoration.

X. Presbyterians conducted worship according to the terms of the Directory. The service commenced with prayer; then followed the reading of the Holy Scriptures, with more or less of exposition. The congregation afterwards sung a psalm; subsequently to which the minister offered a long prayer, which embraced a number of prescribed topics. The sermons introduced by these devotional exercises were—according to the admirable advice given[390] in the Directory—to be prepared and delivered painfully, plainly, faithfully, wisely, gravely, lovingly, and as taught of God. Some preachers, it would appear, read their discourses; but it was by far the most general practice amongst Puritan Divines to deliver them without the aid of notes.[424] In the Westminster Assembly there had been a debate respecting a curious practice adopted by the Scotch clergy, of bowing in the pulpit to certain distinguished persons in the audience. Baillie attempted to introduce the custom into England, but the Independents opposed it; and the Presbyterians on this side the Tweed never imitated this peculiar usage of their brethren on the other. Devout behaviour at worship was carefully enjoined in the Directory, which, very properly, interdicted all whispering, sleeping, and looking about. Yet the taking of notes—as observed already in the case of persons in Calamy's congregation—seems to have continued as a common habit. "Almost all people," Baillie remarks, "men, women, and children, write at preaching."

Wearing hats during Divine service had been usual in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. At the funeral of Bishop Cox, in Ely Cathedral, the congregation sat in the choir to hear the sermon, "all covered, and having their bonnets on." Archbishop Laud noticed that it was a new thing, and he approved of it, for the Oxford Masters to sit at St. Mary's Church bareheaded. To do so became a sign of Cavaliership; and a Royalist colonel, hanged for burglary, told the crowd what a consolation it was to him to remember "that he had always taken his hat off when he went to church." The Puritans[391] continued the older practice, and a forest of steeple-crowned hats covered the pews as long as the sermon lasted; but they were all doffed again as soon as they began to pray.[425]

During the Civil Wars, very unseemly conduct was witnessed occasionally in places of worship. The inhabitants of a parish in the Isle of Wight being divided into two parties as to the great religious questions of the day, the Puritans went one Sunday to church to hear a minister sent down by Parliament. But the previous Anglican incumbent stood upon his rights, and would not allow the new comer to enter within the sacred edifice. Sending for his surplice, he preached in the porch, whereupon the other party adjourned to the school-room, leaving him where he was, surrounded by a small auditory. The correspondent who communicated to the newspaper this piece of intelligence added to it this congratulatory remark: that the discomfiture of the parson was the more remarkable, because in that rude place, the godly folks had before been scorned and derided—as was the case when a certain Lady Norton, living in that neighbourhood, "had repetitions of sermons in her house."[426]

There was little or no difference between the Presbyterian and Independent methods of worship, except that the latter would not employ any prescribed method of service; insisting very much upon the advantages of free prayer, and upon the doctrine that in such kind of prayer "the Spirit helpeth our infirmities."

XI. Anglicans still knelt in secret, and received the consecrated bread and cup from the hands of one of their own[392] priests; but the Presbyterian incumbent administered the Lord's Supper in the parish church to all parishioners, excepting the ignorant and scandalous. The table, decently covered, was conveniently placed so that the communicants might sit around it. After a short warning against improper communion—called in Scotland fencing the tables—the minister began "the action" by sanctifying the elements; then he read the words of institution, and proceeded to pray; after which the bread and wine were distributed, with solemn words, including those used by our blessed Saviour when He instituted the holy feast. Thanksgiving, with a collection, closed the celebration of the Eucharist.

The Independents sat in their pews during the commemoration, instead of sitting close around the tables, as the Presbyterians did; also, they disapproved of the unfrequency of the service amongst their brethren, and were themselves wont to celebrate it week by week. Generally, they partook of the sacred emblems in silence. Philip Nye, according to the report of Robert Baillie, thought that the minister, in preaching, should "be covered, and the people discovered;" but that, "in the sacrament, the minister should be discovered, as a servant, and the guests all covered."[427] How far this strange practice prevailed we cannot say; but the wearing of hats at the Lord's table was a reproach which we find cast upon the Independents by Edwards, the Presbyterian; and that he did not bring the charge without good reason appears from the reply which was made to him by one Catherine Chidley, who thus attempts to vindicate the practice: "It may be as lawful for one man to sit covered, and another uncovered, as it may be[393] lawful for one man to receive it sitting, and another lying in bed."[428]

XII. A prejudice existed amongst some of the earlier Baptists against the use of psalmody in the worship of the Almighty, but the practice met with decided approval from Ainsworth and Robinson, who were patriarchs of Congregationalism.[429] Also, in "The Apologetical Narration of the Five Brethren," the singing of psalms is mentioned as a part of their worship, from which it follows that any objection to it amongst the Congregationalists must have been quite exceptional. The many versions of the Psalms (forty-three at least) at the commencement of the Civil Wars, bear witness to the extensive delight felt at that time in the exercise of praise. Of the primitive Protestant version of Sternhold and Hopkins, there were then several Genevan editions; and certain other versions—altogether distinct from it—present clear indications of a Puritan, and even of a Nonconformist origin.[430] Rivalry between the two Presbyterian hymnologists, Rouse and Barton, as to the use of their new books, published respectively in 1641 and 1644, has been already noticed. The metrical psalms of King[394] Edward the Sixth's time—which had been enjoined under Queen Elizabeth, and in the reigns of the early Stuarts had been liked by the Puritans—were pronounced by some, after the commencement of the Civil Wars, as "uncouth, and unsuited to the times." But the venerable psalter of the Reformers still, to some extent, held its ground; and Baxter complains that those who laid it by used, "some one, and some another" of the existing versions, so that there could be no uniformity at that time in "the service of song."[431]

XIII. Lenten and other Church fasts savoured of superstition in the esteem of the Puritans; but, by the latter, seasons of national humiliation were as solemnly observed as they were frequently enjoined. The Directory defined a fast as requiring total abstinence, not only from food, but also from worldly labour, discourses, and thoughts, and from all bodily delights and rich apparel; still much more from what is scandalous and offensive, such as "gaudish attire, lascivious habits and gestures, and other vanities of either sex;" but abstinence in the last particulars certainly was not meant to be represented as peculiar to days of public repentance. Much time on these occasions was ordered to be spent in reading, hearing, and singing in such manner so "as to quicken suitable affections, especially in prayer;" for which latter exercise the Assembly of Divines had been careful—as in reference to all other kinds of worship—to provide appropriate sub[395]jects. Nor were themes proper for the pulpit at such seasons, left unmentioned by those spiritual counsellors. Similar directions, the difference of the object being taken into account, were also given for public thanksgivings. And, not only when governments ordered fasts for the sins of the people, or festivals for victories and deliverances, but at other times, on account both of private sorrows and private joys, did Puritan households devote whole days to the worship of God. Scattered up and down the quaint biographies of that era are instances of hours spent in solitary devotion; of lengthened preparations for the sacrament; of family groups gathered upon their knees, bewailing lukewarmness, declension and backsliding; of services at home akin to those at church, bewailing the low estate of Christendom; of sorrowful commemorations of public and domestic calamities, and of intense spiritual enjoyments experienced alone in the closet, or shared by all the inmates of a dwelling; whilst texts and psalms, religious anecdotes and pious meditations, set their mark on the anniversaries of births, marriages, and special interventions of providence.

XIV. Certain recreations were rigorously forbidden. No wonder the theatre incurred denunciation, after the character given of it by Ben Jonson. Parliament prohibited stage exhibitions; but, in despite of the law, they were covertly continued in certain private mansions, much to the annoyance of the Puritan class. A company of actors in Golding Lane were frequently complained of, who, notwithstanding all complaints, still persevered in their forbidden art; but they were at length seized in the middle of a performance, when, as it was remarked, comedy was turned into tragedy. They were put under a strong guard of pikes and muskets, "plundered of all the richest of their clothes," and left "nothing but[396] necessaries, now"—adds the newspaper which reports the occurrence—"to act and to learn a better life."[432]

The festivities of New Year and of Shrovetide, of May and Michaelmas, also shared in receiving reprehension;[433] the picturesqueness of ancient customs being overlooked amidst the cruelties and the immoralities, with which they had become associated. Wakes were dropped; maypoles were pulled down; cock-fights and bear-baitings came to an end.[434] No doubt actual wickedness and temptations to vice thus met with a decided check, and a surface morality for a while appeared; but certain other prohibitions of a different nature—for which, however, occasion had been given in part, by the circumstance of such amusements as we have just mentioned having become connected with the observance of the seasons prohibited—shocked the sensibilities of many truly pious people. The Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide festivals, with other holydays, were abolished by the ordinance of 1647.[435] This touched the conscience[397] of devout Episcopalians, who loved to commemorate at special seasons the great events of Christianity, and cut deep into the heart of certain social enjoyments, which had come to depend very much upon the associations formed between them and the festivals of the Church. Such unreasonable interferences produced popular tumults. For example, the Mayor of Canterbury would have a market held on Christmas day; and people who at that season desired to attend divine worship in the Cathedral were roughly handled. The discontent which was thus produced burst out into open revolt, and the military were called in to put an end to the uproar,—in consequence of which several people were committed to prison. Puritans, however, had their periods of rest and amusement. The Ordinance for abolishing holidays provided that there should be allotted to scholars, apprentices, and other servants, for recreation, on every second Tuesday of the month, such time as the masters could conveniently spare. The determination of its length would be a matter of difficulty when servant and master were of different minds; to meet which circumstance, this awkward piece of legislation provided, that the next Justice of the Peace should "have power to order and reconcile the same." "Public holidays," therefore, must be considered as having been entirely suspended during the Commonwealth,—a most injudicious proceeding, which led to the worst results at the Restoration.

Ladies had their sober and stinted diversions in the parlour and the garden; and gentlemen had theirs at home and in the field—all measured out sparingly, and by scripture line and rule. The Word of God, said the Puritan licensers, permitted shooting, (2 Samuel i. 18), musical consort, (Nehemiah vii. 67), putting forth riddles, (Judges xiv. 12), hunting of wild beasts (Canticles[398] ii. 15), searching out, or the contemplation of the works of God, (I Kings iv. 33). This enumeration of amusements allowed by Scripture seemed to sanction certain old English field sports, to concede the pleasures of the chase, and to permit ladies from the manor-house and the castle to ride out a-hawking over hill and dale.[436]

XV. It is a mistake to suppose that the Independents of the Commonwealth were very ascetic. Even the habits of the Presbyterians in this respect have been considerably exaggerated. They were by no means so rigid and demure as prejudiced writers are wont to represent. They did not look so melancholy, nor dress in such ridiculous garbs, nor act in such absurd ways, as believers in Hudibras imagine. Many were gentlemen of graceful bearing, polite demeanour, and genial sympathies. They had amongst them some of the noblest blood of England, and they included large numbers of genteel descent. Such persons, with multitudes of yeomen of ruddy countenances, would crack a joke, and ring an honest laugh, as they walked through trim flower gardens or rode out to their field sports. But the Independents, perhaps, advanced still further in conformity to the outward world.[437]

[399]

Country life in the old mansions and manor houses, with the exception of certain "superstitions," remained much the same as in the days before the wars. And city life in the main ran on as it did before the fall of monarchy; merchants and tradesmen lived as of yore; and mayors and corporations feasted as they had ever done in guildhalls. Wives were handed by wealthy husbands, and maidens by ambitious lovers, up staircases of polished oak, to drawing rooms, profusely carved, and full of furniture curiously fashioned. The dining-room wore an air of enticing comfort, and the hearth blazed, as family and friends sat down to a well-spread table after a long grace. Probably the feast did not break up until a godly minister had expounded a chapter and offered a prayer. And if the guests did not quaff as much sack as some of their royalist friends, and although they did abstain from drinking healths, they were not more addicted to asceticism than excess; all this it would be idle to mention, but for the preposterous notions so widely prevalent, that the Independents and other "sects" of the Commonwealth were an exceptional order of beings, living somewhere quite beyond the outskirts of civilized[400] life. If their connexion with Cromwell's Court somewhat affected the social habits of Independents, and spread amongst them rather more of indulgence in luxury than might be witnessed in other Puritan dwellings, it should be stated, that before any such influence existed, even amidst the early controversies between Presbyterians and Independents, the latter were charged with worldly conformity. They were reproached for riding about in coaches and four on the Lord's Day, and so acting the gallant, that they might have been taken "for roarers and ruffians, rather than saints." They wore cuffs and silver spurs, and gold upon their clothes. Their houses were furnished like those of noblemen and peers. More plate was in their cupboards than in the palaces of grandees. Their fare was delicious, set out with "such curiosity of cookery," and all sorts of wines and delicacies.[438] This picture is connected with accusations of unkind conduct towards those of "the presbyter way," which clearly prove the animus of the writer, and justify us in toning down considerably the colours in which he has painted the Independents. But, after due abatement, enough remains to shew that they were less precise in their habits, and more conformed to the fashion of the age in dress, equipage, and entertainments, than some of their Puritan contemporaries.

XVI. The Independent Protector's Court, whilst eminently virtuous and religious, exhibited also a degree of magnificence, little inferior to that of any court in Christendom. Louis the Fourteenth would not have found in the apartments at Whitehall splendour equal to that which blazed at Versailles; but the envoy of Sweden, when he visited England in the summer of 1655, beheld a scene of[401] pomp and magnificence which filled him with perfect surprise. Soldiers were drawn up at the entrance; guards in livery lined the stairs; the banqueting house was hung with arras; and multitudes of ladies waited in the galleries, to receive the Ambassador and his attendants, consisting of "two hundred persons, generally proper handsome men, and fair-haired; they were all in mourning, very genteel." At the upper end of the room stood his Highness, with a chair of state behind him, and divers of his council and servants, the master of the ceremonies regulating the interview. His Highness did not put off his hat till the Swede had put off his, and whenever the latter named the king his master, or Sweden, or the Protector, or England, he moved his hat. And, if he used the Divine name, or spoke of the good of Christendom, he put off his hat very low, the Protector assuming "like postures of civility."[439]

As an illustration of the social life of Whitehall, an amusing incident may be related respecting one of the clergy in attendance upon Oliver, indicative of those flirtations which neither clerical office nor the strictest forms of religious profession can banish either from royal courts or from the scenes of humble life. Jeremiah White, of Trinity College, Cambridge, a handsome young man, noted for "facetiousness," and at the time enjoying a court chaplainship, became an admirer of the lively Lady Frances Cromwell. He was one day found by his Highness on his knees, kissing the lady's hand. "What is the meaning of that posture," the grave soldier sternly enquired. "May it please your Highness," replied the chaplain, "I have a long time courted that young gentlewoman there, my lady's woman, and cannot prevail. I[402] was therefore humbly praying her ladyship to intercede for me." The Protector demanded of the girl what she meant, by refusing the honour which Mr. White proposed. She, too glad of the opportunity, curtsied and said, "If the reverend gentleman had any such wish, she could not refuse." "Sayst thou so, my lass," answered Cromwell, "call Goodwin, this business shall be done presently before I go out of the room." The couple were married, and the bride received from the Protector five hundred pounds dowry.[440]

Besides Jeremiah White, Cromwell had other chaplains, Hugh Peters, William Hook, Nicholas Lockier, and Peter Sterry. John Howe, as already noticed, was also of the number; and in his letters there are found allusions to the moral and religious character of the Protector's Court, of so much importance that we cannot pass them over. Howe asked Baxter, what he conceived a chaplain ought to do in the way of urging upon the Government a redress of spiritual evils; how far it became him by public preaching, as well as by private exhortation, to bear witness against the neglect of such redress—supposing that those persons who were in power did not conceive that any interference of this description came within the range of their duty, or excused themselves because they had to attend to other affairs of still greater moment. What the writer exactly meant by these expressions is not very clear, whether by "interference" he intended merely moral interference, respecting which there ought to have been no hesitation; or beyond this,[403] some sort of legislative interference, touching which, there might be doubts in the minds of Cromwell and his State Counsellors. The following passages had better be given literally:—

"My time will not serve me long; for I think I shall be constrained in conscience (all things considered) to return, ere long, to my former station. I left it, I think, upon very fair terms. For, first, when I settled there, I expressly reserved to myself a liberty of removing, if the providence of God should invite me to a condition of more serviceableness anywhere else—which liberty I reckon I could not have parted with if I would, unless I could have exempted myself from God's dominion. My call hither was a work I thought very considerable—the setting-up of the worship and discipline of Christ in this family, wherein I was to have joined with another, called upon the same account. I had made, as I supposed, a competent provision for the place I left. But now at once I see the designed work here hopelessly laid aside. We affect here to live in so loose a way, that a man cannot fix upon any certain charge to carry towards them as a minister of Christ should; so that it were as hopeful a course to preach in a market, or in any assembly met by chance, as here."

"Here my influence is not like to be much (as it is not to be expected a raw young man should be much considerable among grandees); my work little; my success hitherto little; my hopes, considering the temper of this place, very small; especially coupling it with the temper of my spirit, which, did you know it, alone would, I think, greatly alter your judgment of this case. I am naturally bashful, pusillanimous, easily brow-beaten, solicitous about the fitness or unfitness of speech or silence in most cases, afraid (especially having to do[404] with those who are constant in the 'arcana imperii') of being accounted uncivil, etc.; and the distemper being natural (most intrinsically) is less curable. You can easily guess how little considerations are like to do in such a case. I did not, I confess, know myself so well as, since my coming up, occasion and reflection have taught me to do. I find now my hopes of doing good will be among people where I shall not be so liable to be overawed. I might have known this sooner and have prevented the trouble I am now in. Though the case of my coming up hither, and continuance, differ much, so as that I can't condemn the former, yet I more incline to do that than justify the latter."[441]

The word "loose," used by John Howe, must not be strictly interpreted. If licentiousness had prevailed at Whitehall, he certainly would have used stronger language, and would not have remained in the place a single hour after making such a discovery. The reputation for virtue of Cromwell's family and Court has never been impeached. Malignant slanders reflecting on their morals, and circulated by enemies after Cromwell's death, have never received any support from ascertained facts, or received any credence from unprejudiced historians; but luxury, extravagance, practical jokes, and escapades of the kind indicated in the case of Jeremiah White, there undoubtedly were; and it is to these things, probably, that the strongest expression in Howe's letter refers; whilst the rest of his complaints relate to irregularity in worship, and to habits unfriendly to vital religion. At the same time it must be remembered, that the character of Baxter's correspondent was one of saintly holiness; and that, beheld from the level of his eminently[405] spiritual life, many things would appear deplorable, which common persons are wont to pass by without the utterance of any, even the slightest, reprehension.

XVII. Before terminating the review of the private and social life of the period, as it existed amongst religious people, we must touch upon those observances of a sacred kind which were connected with the close of human existence.

One section in the Directory is "Concerning visitation of the sick." It is observed that times of affliction are special opportunities put into the minister's hands to communicate a word in season to weary souls, and topics of spiritual address and advice are largely suggested for his guidance in conducting conversation in the chamber of disease and death. The minister is directed to admonish the patient to set his house in order, to make provision for the payment of his debts, to render satisfaction for any wrong he has done, to be reconciled to his enemies, and to forgive all men their trespasses. The minister also would, in addition to this, according to the instructions given in the Directory, improve the occasion for the spiritual benefit of relatives, friends, or servants present; but no mention is made, in any way, of the administration of the Lord's supper, which, being then regarded exclusively as a Church ordinance, both by Presbyterians and Independents, would not be deemed a proper solemnity for a few persons around a sick bed. But in numerous cases, beyond all doubt, the sacrament would be administered secretly by Anglican clergymen to persons of their own communion in the last hours of life.

The Episcopal burial service could not be used—a hardship which can be appreciated by those, who, in the present day, occasionally find enactments and[406] prejudices interfering with their sentiments of natural piety.[442] The custom of kneeling down by the side of the corpse was pronounced by the Presbyterians to be superstitious; and all praying, reading, and singing at funerals was forbidden. The minister was directed simply to put people in mind of their duty of applying "themselves to meditation and conferences suitable to the occasion." Funeral sermons incurred from certain Divines strong objections. The Puritans, Cartwright and Hildersam, had scrupled to allow them, and some Reformed Churches abroad had abandoned their use. The Westminster Assembly debated the question, and Baillie reports, that the difference upon this point between the Scotch and some of the English brethren appeared irreconcilable. Funeral sermons, he adds, were an abuse of preaching, intended to humour the rich for reward, and employed in order to augment the minister's livelihood; and, on these accounts, he says, that they could not easily be got rid of. Yet, notwithstanding this strong feeling against religious ceremonies at funerals, many public ones are recorded in those times as having been conducted on a scale of splendour surpassing anything we are familiar with now-a-days. Pym's was very imposing; but in magnificence it was eclipsed by the processions and formalities at the interment of the Earl of Essex, Ireton, Blake, and Oliver Cromwell. Indeed, sometimes there seems to have been an unusual love of display manifested at the tomb of a Puritan grandee. In the British Museum is a curious deposition by a herald, relative to the funeral of John St. John; that functionary declares it to have[407] been in violation of all heraldic laws, insomuch that the escutcheons went beyond those pertaining to a duke, and that he never saw so many pennons, except at the funeral of one of the blood royal.[443]

Far different, and far more touching, were the obsequies of the Master of St. Paul's School: as he died a single man, the boys walked before the corpse with white gloves, verses being hung upon the pall instead of escutcheons.[444]

CHAPTER XV.

Sometimes, by the shore of a lake, the eye catches prismatic effects upon the ripples, as if chains and rings of gold, and green, and crimson, were thickly scattered in fragments over the surface, whilst weeds lie plain enough beneath, covering the bottom of the mountain-girdled waters. Little creations and images of the glorious light above are those ripples; and no unapt illustration do they afford of the varieties of spiritual life in this lower world; for all these varieties are really reflections of the Sun of Righteousness—reflections manifold, always imperfect and sometimes confused, and ever found with the weeds of fallen humanity growing underneath them.

The religious history of the Commonwealth abounds in specimens of such varieties: we proceed to furnish further instances of these, not only from Anglo-Catholic and Puritan biographies, but from others in which there is the absence of either peculiarity, or a blending of the two.

Amidst the Civil Wars, and under the ascendancy of Presbyterianism, there could no longer be the same kind of pastoral care as that which threw such an air of saint[409]liness over Bemerton rectory. The "country parson" could no more use the Prayer Book and keep Church festivals. Daily worship had ceased, such as George Herbert loved to attend, at the canonical hours of ten and four, when "he lifted up pure and charitable hands to God in the midst of the congregation." There could no longer assemble in public twice a day, an Anglican congregation, composed of parishioners and gentlemen of the neighbourhood. An end had also come to the usage described by Isaac Walton: "Some of the meaner sort of his parish did so love and reverence Mr. Herbert, that they would let their plough rest, when Mr. Herbert's saint's-bell rung to prayers, that they might also offer their devotions to God with him, and would then return back to their plough." Yet throughout the Commonwealth era the lofty devotion of the poet-priest—albeit touched with asceticism and other weaknesses—continued to beat in many hearts, and to inspire the concealed use of ancient formularies.

Never was anything more beautiful than Herbert's dying confession: "I now look back upon the pleasures of my life past, and see the content I have taken in beauty, in wit, in music, and pleasant conversation, are now all past by me like a dream, or as a shadow that returns not, and are now all become dead to me, or I to them; and I see, that as my father and generation hath done before me, so I also shall now suddenly (with Job) make my bed also in the dark; and I praise God I am prepared for it; and I praise Him that I am not to learn patience now I stand in such need of it; and that I have practised mortification, and endeavoured to die daily, that I might not die eternally! and my hope is that I shall shortly leave this valley of tears, and be free from all fevers and pain; and, which will be a more[410] happy condition, I shall be free from sin, and all the temptations and anxieties that attend it; and this being past, I shall dwell in the New Jerusalem; dwell there with men made perfect; dwell where these eyes shall see my Master and Saviour Jesus; and with Him see my dear mother and all my relations and friends. But I must die, or not come to that happy place. And this is my content, that I am going daily towards it; and that every day which I have lived hath taken a part of my appointed time from me, and that I shall live the less time for having lived this and the day past."

Such words were not theatrically uttered; they simply expressed the life which the good man had really lived—a life which was in truth a continued Sunday, answering to what he played and sung in those last hours.

Punctilious about forms, yet no formalist—thinking much of Lent, Ember weeks, and Church rites, yet not to the neglect of spiritual religion—and loving his parish as he loved his relatives, Herbert of course deemed Nonconformists to be interlopers. Yet, what Nonconformist will not forgive him the harshness of his judgment, considering the purity of his spirit, and the elevation of his soul, and how he did all things for the Master's honour? This cast of sentiment repeated itself in many devout Anglicans, who in a measure conformed to ecclesiastical changes, or resolutely suffered loss for conscience' sake. Nor was sympathy with the tone of Herbert's hymns wanting even[411] amongst contemporary Puritans. Baxter said: "I must confess after all, that next to the Scripture poems, there are none so savoury to me as Mr. George Herbert's. I know that Cowley and others far excel Herbert in wit and accurate composure; but, as Seneca takes with me above all his contemporaries, because he speaketh things by words, feelingly and seriously, like a man that is past jest, so Herbert speaks to God, like a man that really believeth in God, and whose business in the world is most with God—heart-work and heaven-work make up his books."[445] Thus it was that under diverse forms of polity and worship holy chords in those two hearts vibrated in unison with each other.

Dr. Hammond's piety, elsewhere illustrated in this work, is largely extolled by his biographer.[446] His devotional habits, which were characteristic of the age, are particularly recorded. "As soon as he was ready (which was usually early), he prayed in his chamber with his servant, in a peculiar form composed for that purpose; after this he retired to his own more secret devotions in his closet. Betwixt ten and eleven in the morning, he had a solemn intercession in reference to the national calamities; to this, after a little distance, succeeded the morning office of the Church, which he particularly desired to perform in his own person, and would by no means accept the ease of having it read by any other. In the afternoon he had another hour of private prayer, which on Sundays he enlarged, and so religiously observed, that if any necessary business or charity had diverted him at the usual time, he repaired his soul at the cost of his body; and, notwithstanding the injunctions of his physicians, which in other cases he was careful to obey, spent the supper[412]time therein. About five o'clock the solemn private prayers for the nation, and the evening service of the Church returned. At bed-time his private prayers closed the day; and, after all, even the night was not without its office, the 51st Psalm being his designed midnight entertainment."

Thomas Fuller, already so often noticed, had nothing of the poetical pensiveness of Herbert, nothing of that unearthly tone of thought which was so real in the Salisbury canon, nothing either of the High Churchmanship of Dr. Hammond, yet he cordially loved the Church of England. Moderate, orthodox, and Catholic, he allowed to others the liberty which he claimed for himself, whilst he bewailed the divisions of the times in which he lived, not as many did, because he wanted all to think like him, but because he saw that men would not peaceably allow one another to exercise the right of private judgment. The piety of Fuller was that of thorough conscientiousness, so well expressed by himself when he told the Triers "he could appeal to the Searcher of Hearts that he made a conscience of his very thoughts." With his conscientiousness—which really seemed to cover the whole field of evangelical and practical religion—there was associated the faculty of wit, which gave even to his religion a character of humour. In his book on the Holy State, he says of the "Faithful minister," "he will not use a light comparison to make thereof a grave application, for fear lest his poison go further than his antidote"; but, he himself adds, "that fork must have strong tines wherewith one would thrust out nature." In that very chapter, animadverting on affected gravity, he remarks: "when one shall use the preface of a mile to bring in a furlong of matter, set his face and speech in a frame—and to make men believe it is some precious liquor, their words[413] come out drop by drop—such men's vizards do sometimes fall from them not without the laughter of the beholders. One was called 'gravity,' for his affected solemnness, who, afterwards, being catched in a light prank, was ever after, to the day of his death, called 'gravity-levity.'" Fuller could not help being humorous. He could not tell the most mournful story without enlivening it with some sort of sally; but religion so influenced him that he never indulged in ill-natured satire—never raised a blister on the skin by the touch of a scorching sarcasm. With such a temperament, added to unfeigned piety and unfeigned benevolence, "it was as natural that he should be full of good-tempered mirth as it is for the grasshopper to chirp, or the bee to hum, or the birds to warble in the spring breeze and the bright sunshine. His very physiognomy was an index to his natural character. As described by his contemporaries, he had light flaxen hair, bright blue and laughing eyes, a frank and open visage."[447] And if any one will take the trouble to compare the portraits of Herbert and Fuller, he must confess that Herbert's gravity would look as foolish in the face of Fuller, as Fuller's archness would be most unseemly, if it could be forced on Herbert's sedate countenance.

The character of Sir George Dalston, as given by Jeremy Taylor in richly coloured words, deserves to be included in any portrait gallery of his contemporaries. "He was indeed a great lover of, and had a great regard for, God's ministers, ever remembering the words of God: 'Keep my rest, and reverence my priests'; he honoured the calling in all, but he loved and revered the persons of such who were conscientious keepers of their 'depositum—that trust' which was com[414]mitted to them; such which did not for interest quit their conscience, and did not, to preserve some parts of their revenue, quit some portions of their religion. He knew that what was true in 1639 was also true in 1644, and so to '57, and shall continue true to eternal ages; and they that change their persuasions, by force or interest, did neither behave well nor ill, upon competent and just grounds; they are not just, though they happen on the right side. Hope of gain did by chance teach them well, and fear of loss abuses them directly. He pitied the persecuted; and never would take part with persecutors; he prayed for his prince, and served him in what he could; he loved God, and loved the Church; he was a lover of his country's liberties, and yet an observer of the laws of his king....

"And now, having divested himself of all objections, and his conversation with the world, quitting his affections to it, he wholly gave himself to religion and devotion; he awakened early, and would presently be entertained with reading; when he rose, still he would be read to, and hear some of the Psalms of David; and, excepting only what time he took for the necessities of his life and health, all the rest he gave to prayer, reading, and meditation, save only that he did not neglect, nor rudely entertain, the visits and kind offices of his neighbours. But in this great vacation from the world he espied his advantages; he knew well, according to that saying of the Emperor Charles V.—'Oportet inter vitæ negotia et diem mortis spatium aliquod intercedere;' there ought to be a valley between two such mountains, the businesses of our life and the troubles of our death; and he stayed not till the noise of the bridegroom's coming did awaken and affright him; but, by daily prayers twice a day, constantly with his family, besides the piety and devotion of his own[415] retirements, by a monthly communion, by weekly sermons, and by the religion of every day, he stood in precincts, ready with oil in his lamp, watching till his Lord should call."[448]

The poet Quarles—whose quaint emblems symbolize not only the quaintness of his piety, but the quaintness of much besides belonging to his age—suffered as a Royalist and an Episcopalian; and indeed his death appears to have been hastened by the persecution which he suffered. The hues of his religious experience are best conveyed by preserving the phraseology of his devoted widow.[449] "He expressed great sorrow for his sins, and when it was told him that his friends conceived he did thereby much harm to himself, he answered: 'They were not his friends that would not give him leave to be penitent.' His exhortations to his friends that came to visit him were most divine; wishing them to have a care of the expense of their time, and every day to call themselves to an account, that so when they came to their bed of sickness, they might lie upon it with a rejoicing heart. And, doubtless, such an one was his, insomuch that he thanked God that whereas he might justly have expected that his conscience should look him in the face like a lion, it rather looked upon him like a lamb; and that God had forgiven him his sins, and that night sealed him his pardon; and many other heavenly expressions to the like effect. I might here add what blessed advice he gave to me in particular, still to trust in God, whose promise is to provide for the widow and the fatherless, &c. But this is already imprinted on my heart, and therefore I shall not need here again to insert it."

[416]

Lord Montague may be cited as a specimen of old English piety, apart from strong ecclesiastical opinions on either side. "Many 'characters' have been drawn of this stout cavalier. The sum of them all amounts to this, namely that he was an honest, truthful, and pious man, an example to his fellow-parishioners by constant attendance at sermons on Sundays, and at lectures on week days. So long as the truth was preached old Montague cared not who preached it; and his own chaplain had no sinecure of it in his house, where that reverend official, on Sunday afternoons, assembled the servants, and put them through their catechism. The household was a godly one, though a certain depictor of it says, rather equivocally, that 'the rudest of his servants feared to be known to him to be a drunkard, a swearer, or any such lewd liver, for he cast such out of his service.' This would imply that there was an assumption of virtue, by which the good lord may have been deceived; but his serving men and maids are emphatically chronicled as being a credit and a comfort to him."[450]

In the heart of the Royalist camp, and amidst bloodshed on the battle field, there had been—notwithstanding the prevalent profanity and licentiousness of the Cavaliers—some strong stirrings of spiritual life in the hearts of English gentlemen, worthy of that name, of which a memorial exists in a letter written by John Trelawne, to the Lady Grace, announcing the death of her honoured lord, Sir Bevill Grenville.

"Honourable Lady,—How can I contain myself or longer conceal my sorrow for the death of that excellent man, your most dear husband and my noble friend. Be pleased with your wisdom to consider of the events of the war, which[417] is seldom or never constant, but as full of mutability as hazard. And seeing it hath pleased God to take him from your ladyship, yet this may something appease your great flux of tears, that he died an honourable death, which all his enemies will envy, fighting with invincible valour and loyalty the battle of his God, his King, and country. A greater honour than this no man living can enjoy. But God hath called him unto Himself to crown him (I doubt not) with immortal glory for his noble constancy in this blessed cause. It is too true (most noble lady) that God hath made you drink of a bitter cup, yet, if you please to submit unto his Divine will and pleasure by kissing His rod patiently, God (no doubt) hath a staff of consolation for to comfort you in this great affliction and trial. He will wipe your eyes, dry up the flowing spring of your tears, and make your bed easy, and by your patience overcome God's justice by His returning mercy. Madam, he is gone his journey but a little before us. We must march after when it shall please God, for your ladyship knows that none fall without His providence, which is as great in the thickest shower of bullets as in the bed. I beseech you (dear lady) to pardon this my trouble and boldness, and the God of heaven bless you and comfort you, and all my noble cousins in this your great visitation, which shall be the unfeigned prayers of him that is, most noble Lady,

"Your Ladyship's hon. and humble servant,

"John Trelawne.[451]

"Trelawne, 20th July, 1643."

And when the wars were over, and peace had been established, and the usurper whom they feared was sitting[418] upon the throne, many a Royalist lady and gentleman would think of their past sorrow and cherish their hopes of a celestial future in the tone and spirit of this beautiful epistle.

A touching instance of early piety occurred in the family of John Evelyn, described by the bereaved father in the following terms: "Illuminations, far exceeding his age and experience, considering the prettiness of his address and behaviour, cannot but leave impressions in me at the memory of him. When one told him how many days a Quaker had fasted, he replied that was no wonder, for Christ had said that man should not live by bread alone, but by the Word of God. He would of himself select the most pathetic psalms, and chapters out of Job to read to his maid during his sickness, telling her, when she pitied him, that all God's children must suffer affliction. He declaimed against the vanities of the world before he had seen any. Often he would desire those who came to see him to pray by him, and a year before he fell sick, to kneel and pray with him alone in some corner. How thankfully would he receive admonition! how soon be reconciled! how indifferent, yet continually cheerful! He would give grave advice to his brother John, bear with his impertinences, and say he was but a child. If he heard of or saw any new thing he was unquiet till he was told how it was made; he brought to us all such difficulties as he found in books, to be expounded. He had learned by heart divers sentences in Latin and Greek, which, on occasion, he would produce even to wonder. He was all life, all prettiness, far from morose, sullen, or childish, in anything he said or did. The last time he had been at church (which was at Greenwich), I asked him, according to custom, what he remembered of the sermon; 'Two good things,[419] father,' said he, 'bonum gratiæ, and bonum gloriæ!' with a just account of what the preacher said. The day before he died he called to me, and in a more serious manner than usual told me that for all I loved him so dearly, I should give my house, land, and all my fine things to his brother Jack, he should have none of them; and, the next morning, when he found himself ill, and that I persuaded him to keep his hands in bed, he demanded whether he might pray to God with his hands unjoined; and a little after, whilst in great agony, whether he should not offend God by using His holy name so often calling for ease. What shall I say of his frequent pathetical ejaculations uttered of himself: 'Sweet Jesus, save me, deliver me, pardon my sins, let Thine angels receive me!' So early knowledge, so much piety and perfection! But thus God, having dressed up a saint fit for Himself, would not longer permit him with us, unworthy of the future fruits of this incomparable hopeful blossom. Such a child I never saw; for such a child I bless God, in whose bosom he is! May I and mine become as this little child, who now follows the child Jesus, that Lamb of God, in a white robe, whithersoever He goes; even so, Lord Jesus, fiat voluntas tua! Thou gavest him to us, Thou hast taken him from us, blessed be the name of the Lord! That I had anything acceptable to Thee was from Thy grace alone, seeing from me he had nothing but sin, but that Thou hast pardoned! Blessed be my God for ever. Amen."[452]

We have already presented several examples of eminent piety in the lives of Puritan clergymen. To these may be added one more in a passage from a sermon preached by John Howe on the death of "that faithful[420] and laborious servant of Christ, Mr. Richard Fairclough."[453]

"The bent of his soul was towards God; I never knew any man under the more constant governing power of religion, which made it to be his business both to exercise and diffuse it to his uttermost; he was a mighty lover of God and men, and being of a lively, active spirit, that love was his facile, potent mover to the doing even of all the good that could be thought in an ordinary way, possible to him, and more than was possible to most other men. To give a true succinct account of the complexion of his soul—he was even made up of life and love. Such was the clearness and sincerity of his spirit, his constant uprightness and integrity, so little darkened by an evil conscience—and indeed little ever clouded with melancholy fumes—that he seemed to live in the constant sense of God's favour and acceptance, and had nothing to do but to serve Him with his might; when his spirit was formed to an habitual cheerfulness and seemed to feel within itself a continual calm. So undisturbed a serenity hath, to my observation, rarely been discernible in any man; nor was his a dull sluggish peace, but vital and joyous; seldom hath that been more exemplified in any man. 'To be spiritually minded is life and peace.' Seldom have any lived more under the government of that kingdom, which stands in 'righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.' His reverence of the Divine Majesty was most profound, his thoughts of God high and great, that seemed totally to have composed him to adoration and even made him live a wor[421]shipping life; he was not wont to speak to God, or of Him, at a vulgar rate; he was most absolutely resigned and given up to Him; devotedness to His interest, acquiescence in His wisdom and will, were not mere precepts with him, but habits. No man could be more deeply concerned about the affairs of religion and God's interest in the world; yet his solicitude was tempered with that steadfast trust, that it might be seen the acknowledged verities of God's governing the world, superintending and ordering all human affairs by wise and steady counsel and almighty power—which in most others are but faint notions—were with him turned into, living sense and vital principles which governed his soul! Whereupon his great reverence of the Majesty of God, falling into a conjunction with an assured trust and sense of His love and goodness, made that rare and happy temperament with him, which I cannot better express than by a pleasant seriousness. What friend of his did ever, at the first congress, see his face but with a grave smile? When unexpectedly and by surprise he came in among his familiar friends, it seemed as if he had blessed the room; as if a new soul or some good genius were come among them."

Puritan gentlemen manifested in their own way virtues of a kind similar to those which adorned their Anglican neighbours. The biographer of Alderman John Lamot, who died in 1655, eulogizes the "holy carriage of his youth," his industry, thanksgiving, prudence, integrity, zeal, charity, sympathy, bounty, and patience. Mention is made especially of his religious duties—he was a member and elder of the Dutch Church—of his devoutly attending public lectures, and of his reading the Holy Scriptures in private. Every year, upon the 17th of November, he made a feast to commemorate the end of[422] Queen Mary's persecution, and the commencement of Queen Elizabeth's reign. Upon these occasions he would deliver a hearty Protestant speech, and bless God for the quenching of the Smithfield fires. At other times he invited friends "to eat bread with him before the Lord, as Jethro and Moses did," when, with singular fulness—for his memory is called a living library—he traced those Divine deliverances which had been wrought out for the Church in England and in the Netherlands, ending his conversation, as it regards the latter, with the words: "Their case might have been ours, and who knows but it may yet be?"[454]

Sir Nathaniel Barnardston may be mentioned as a person of the same order. The time of his conversion is specified, and the foundation of his faith is recorded by his biographer; who also draws a full length portrait of him as a man and a magistrate—and as belonging both to his own family and to God's Church. He rarely met his pastor but they prayed together. "His tongue dropped honey, and his breath was as sweet and fragrant as the roses in spring." He sanctified the Sabbath, and diligently attended the preaching of the word. He prepared for the sacrament, and loved the Christian ministry—and fasted and prayed before exercising his right as a patron of Church livings, and sought to draw his neighbours to a religious life. He also celebrated, like the London alderman we have just mentioned, "The thrice happy day of Elizabeth's inauguration," and forgot not the Fifth of November, and the gunpowder treason, which last plot he was wont to pronounce "black as hell."

He welcomed "the messenger of death, when it drew near. He did not then, according to the usual method of most, seem shy and averse to be gone, as if so be he[423] were not ready, but was heartily ready; for as soon as ever there appeared on his side a small swelling in which none but himself conceived any danger, he being then at Hackney, did send fifty miles for Mr. Fairclough, his minister, to discourse with him; and taking him to walk with him, presently fell into conference of the worth and immortality of the soul, of the manner of its subsistence and actings when it was separated, of the joys of the other world, and the vanity and emptiness of all things in this, as being most suitable to his present condition, and herewith he was so deeply and spiritually affected, that at their parting he expressed himself in the following manner to Mr. Fairclough:[455]—'Sir, I now much wonder that any man that fully believes these things to be realities, and not mere notions (being in my condition) should be unwilling to die. For my own part, I will not be so flattered with any carnal content as to be desirous to live longer in this world, where there is little hope left that the Lord hath any more work or service for me to do, except it be to suffer for keeping a good conscience, in witnessing against the apostasies and impieties of the times; and now it is a great favour of God to be sent for speedily.' After this, he being removed to London for greater conveniency of physicians, he there made the same profession of his desire to be dissolved and be with Christ, unto several friends and visitors."[456]

Choice examples of Christian character abound in the lives of the women of that day.

Again we refer to the pages of Jeremy Taylor, and extract the following passage from his sketch of the character of Lady Carbary:[457]—"In all her religion,[424] and in all her actions of relations towards God, she had a strange evenness and untroubled passage, sliding toward her ocean of God and of infinity, with a certain and silent motion. So have I seen a river, deep and smooth, passing with a still foot and a sober face, and paying to the 'fiscus,' the great 'exchequer' of the sea, and prince of all the watery bodies, a tribute large and full; and hard by it, a little brook skipping and making a noise upon its unequal and neighbour bottom; and after all its talking and bragged motion, it paid to its common audit no more than the revenues of a little cloud, or a contemptible vessel; so have I sometimes compared the issues of her religion to the solemnities and famed outsides of another's piety. It dwelt upon her spirit, and was incorporated with the periodical work of every day. She did not believe that religion was intended to minister to fame and reputation, but to pardon of sins, to the pleasure of God, and the salvation of souls. For religion is like the breath of heaven; if it goes abroad into the open air, it scatters and dissolves like camphire; but if it enters into a secret hollowness, into a close conveyance, it is strong and mighty, and comes forth with vigour and great effect at the other end, at the other side of this life, in the days of death and judgment."

The Countess of Suffolk, a friend of Richard Baxter, and an admirer of George Herbert, affords another example of deep devotion, not strongly marked by any "denominational" peculiarities—although she one day locked herself up in her closet to write down from memory a sermon she heard from a "grave prelate." On the other hand, Lady Harley must have been a Puritan to the backbone; for in the memoir of her, she appears rejoicing greatly at the meeting of the Long Parliament, approving of the execution of[425] Lord Strafford, and saying, in a letter to her son Edward—who accompanied his father to town, when he took his seat in the House of Commons—"I believe that the hierarchy must go down, and I hope now." "I am glad that the Bishops begin to fall, and I hope it will be with them as it was with Haman—when he began to fall, he fell indeed." The order of the two Houses for removing the relics of idolatry delighted her ladyship exceedingly, and with deep joy she communicated to her son, that the table in Hereford Cathedral had been turned, and that the copes and basins, and all such vestiges of Popery, had been put away. When the war broke out, she evinced no little zeal in the business of raising money for the Parliament, and sent her family plate to the military chest. When battle raged around the walls of her own castle, this Puritan Amazon manifested a masculine courage, and in her letters gave thanks to her son "for the hamper with powder and match"—whilst she waited for "the muskets"—and stated that she had sent to Worcester for fifty weight of shot. She met with opposition in all sorts of ways. The Royalists would not pay their rents; they would not let the fowler bring her any fowls; they arrested her servants; they drove away her horses; and they threatened to burn down her barns. The Marquis of Hertford came to besiege her fortress. Stories were told of 600 men marching up to her gates. Under these threatening circumstances she declared: "If I had money to buy corn and meal and malt, I should hope to hold out, but then I have three shires against me." When the assault came at last, and she heard that her cook was shot with a poisoned bullet, and that the waters of the village brook were poisoned also, this English Deborah, this Puritan mother in Israel, trusting entirely in Divine help, retained[426] the confidence she had before expressed, "I thank God I am not afraid. It is the Lord's cause that we have stood for, and I trust, though our iniquities testify against us, yet the Lord will work for His own name's sake, and that He will now shew the men of the world that it is hard fighting against heaven."[458]

She died before the close of the siege, and the Puritan minister of Clun, in Shropshire—who preached her funeral sermon—observed: "When the naked sword, that messenger of death, walked the land, did God set His seal of safety upon her. Though surrounded with drums and noise of war, yet she took her leave in peace."

We read, also, of Mrs. Margaret Andrews, who was constant in prayers three times a day, spending two hours in her closet in the coldest winter, and who rarely passed an hour without retiring from company, stealing away that she might look towards heaven: of Lady Alice Lucy, of Charlcot—one of the Shakespeare Lucys—who made it her first employment every morning to address Almighty God in secret, and to read some portions of the Divine Word, and who also delighted in sacred literature, storing her memory with passages from favourite English authors: and of Lady Mary Houghton, who spent the earlier and later hours of the day in communion with God, and had books for contemplation, and books for conversation, and books for devotion, and who spent the rest of her time in needle-work, with her maidens sitting round about her, or in visiting the cottages of the neighbouring poor.

Lady Catherine Courten is another celebrity, who, having lost her fortune—a calamity she bore with Christian fortitude—spent the last and the retired season[427] of her life with her noble sister, Lady Francis Hobart, at Chapel Field House, in the city of Norwich. She never neglected sermons; and when, on account of illness, she was unable to walk down stairs, she would be carried by her servants to the place of worship. Her habit of reading is also particularly noticed, and the few hours which she spent out of her closet were usually filled up with discourses tending to edification. Nor was she ever more in her element than when by debate with others, she was investigating some truth for the information of her judgment, or for the guidance of her practice. With her may be coupled Lady Francis Hobart, the wife of Sir John Hobart, of Blickling, in Norfolk; like the former lady, a particular friend of Dr. Collinge's, who observes:—"It was in September, 1646, that I was invited by Sir John Hobart (at that time alive) to take my chamber in his house whilst I discharged my ministerial office in the county (Norwich), and to take some oversight of his family in the things of God." The family had been without any spiritual guide, and in a state of religious disorder, and the chaplain's design was to bring it into a course of prayer, in conformity, as he said, to David's pattern. He held services morning, evening, and at noon, reading some portion of Scripture every day, and expounding it as the time would allow. He catechised once a week, and accustomed the members of the household to repeat the sermons which they had heard on the Lord's Day, and at other public ordinances. The servants were required to attend these duties every morning at seven o'clock. The catechising was made easy by the parents prevailing upon their pious daughter to set an example by first herself answering the questions which were proposed by the minister.[428] A chapel was fitted up in the house, and a lecture was preached every Lord's Day.[459]

The religious convictions of the reader must create a preference for some above others of the characters which we have described; yet, if we would be loyal to Christian charity and righteousness, we must judge all these individuals in no narrow spirit, but bring to bear upon our conclusions respecting them a careful study of the differences which exist in the ages, in the sects, in the minds, and in the morals of ancient and of modern Christendom.

The ages of the Church, down to the era of the Commonwealth, exhibit a series of ecclesiastical and theological revolutions running along through an extended line of generations which, under altering circumstances, still exhibit ever the same spiritual life. Primitive simplicity—when uninspired men accepted the authoritative teaching of apostles as a religion rather than a theology, and had but an imperfect apprehension of the profound truths of the New Testament, was succeeded by sundry innovations of doctrine and practice, drawn from sources which were open and active all around them in the Jewish and Pagan world, or from others which were hidden in the very depths of human nature. The true and the false soon became blended together, sometimes in very unequal proportions; and hence sprung Nicene developments, of doctrine touching certain vital points, associated, however, with certain meta[429]physical refinements and with certain forms of polity and of worship, which prepared for subsequent manifestations of despotism and of superstition. Traditionalism for a time stereotyped both that which was bad and that which was good in the sixth and the seventh centuries, and then afterwards came limited but violent reactions against authority in several different quarters, opening up paths which ultimately led to the Protestant Reformation. That Reformation followed as the result of applying the New Testament to human creeds, and canons, and formularies. In their sifting of opinions and practices, the Reformers sought to separate the wheat from the chaff; but when the first excitement of the Ecclesiastical Revolution had passed away, some persons thought that a measure of wheat had been cast away along with the chaff; and others again believed that the process had terminated too soon—that the sieve had been laid aside before all the requisite sifting work had been done, and that a good deal of chaff remained mixed with wheat. Such ideas, on the one hand and on the other, constituted the groundwork of Anglo-Catholic and of Puritan piety. Anglo-Catholicism, under James, arose as a reaction against Puritan Protestantism under Elizabeth. That Anglo-Catholicism led to a more violent Puritan reaction under Charles I. Hence followed the antagonism of parties, at that time of immense excitement, in connexion with the influences of early training, of associations in life, of different kinds of pulpit teaching, and of varied idiosyncracies of mental character. Not only did parties widely differ, but each regarded the other as an enemy. They fought as for life—and certainly the subjects of contention were not trifles. Scarcely could it be expected that on either side there would be an unprejudiced estimate of what was thought, said, and done on the other.

[430]

Moreover, as in every age some peculiar type of piety is found to prevail, whether it be Primitive, or Nicene, or Mediæval, or Reformed; so, during the English Commonwealth, influence flowing from the past and mingling with the present, washed thoughts and habits into form and hue so as to give to all religious parties a somewhat similar appearance not to be overlooked. Much time was spent by all pious persons in retirement, in reading, in meditation, and in prayer. Piety was active as well as contemplative, but the contemplative side was most apparent: the mind dwelt much upon memories of the past, the Nicene age being the background of thought in the one case, and the age of the Reformation in the other; whilst over the whole religion of the day there rested the solemn shadows of an ascetic spirituality. Moreover, there pertained to Anglicans and Puritans in common a singularly strong conviction of the absolute reality of spiritual and eternal things. They could truly say "we walk by faith, not by sight"—in contrast with so many religionists in our own time whose views are entirely walled in by objects of sense, and who walk by sight, not by faith. Our fathers of the seventeenth century "tasted the good Word of God and the powers of the world to come." They lived "on the sides of eternity," and their souls breathed a bracing air which came from the goodly land and the "Lebanon afar off." Visiting the sick and the poor, and managing some hospital for boys, or for old men and women, constituted the usual methods of beneficence in those times, inasmuch as Bible Societies, Missions, and Sunday-schools, were institutions then unknown.

Together with the difference between one age of Christendom and another, we must consider the differences between sect and sect. It is only fair for the historian to apply the term sect to any party exhibiting avowed[431] symbols; whether found existing within the same Episcopal Church, as were all Anglo-Catholics and some of the Puritans—or existing outside, as was the case with Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists. Each division appears marked by the strength and the weakness of all such bodies. Each had a concentrated power of attack and of defence. Each was strong in its polemical attitude and action: each was powerful against the other. The weakness lay—as is ever the case—in defective self-culture, and in an imperfect extent of teaching within its own borders. Sectarianism is always one-sided. It seizes on certain points and magnifies them beyond all rules of proportion. Other parts of Divine truth and other portions of human nature suffer from neglect.

And again, the idiosyncrasies of individuals must be taken into account, since they always powerfully contribute to produce varieties of spiritual life. John Milton and John Owen were both Christians, both devout, both unceremonial, both advocating a wide liberty of conscience, both averse to Prelacy, and to all Presbyterian domination, both entertaining in general the same views of government, political and ecclesiastical; yet how unlike in many other respects! The one exhibiting in his religion the genius of a poet, the other the genius of a systematic theologian; the one soaring with outstretched wings into the loftiest regions of Divine contemplation, the other measuring every opinion by the standard of a remorseless logic, based upon Scripture; the one inspired with classic taste, chiselling the products of his intellect into forms of beauty, comparable to those of Phidias in the art of sculpture; the other careless respecting artistic style, and flinging out the treasures of his affluent mind after a fashion which is most excruciating to the æsthetical of this generation; the one a man of imagination,[432] the other a man of reason; the one a Homer, the other an Aristotle amongst Puritans. And as they differed in their manner of thinking, so also they differed in their modes of feeling and in their habits of life; the religious sentiments of Milton being calm and pure, with something in their tone almost approaching to angelic elevation, bearing scarcely any marks of such struggles as beset most other Christians, and suggesting the idea that his chief conflicts of soul must have been with "spiritual wickedness in high places;" Owen, on the other hand, dwelling much upon "the mortification of sin in believers," "the doctrine of justification," "the work of the Holy Spirit in prayer," and "the Glory of Christ," and ever indicating the strongest faith and the intensest feeling upon those evangelical points respecting which some defect may be traced in the religion of Milton; and whilst Milton was solitary in his devotion, at least during the latter part of his life, and in this respect, as in others, was "like a star and dwelt apart," Owen delighted in social worship.

No reader who has any fixed theological opinions can examine the Church systems of that age without feeling sympathy with some one of them, mingled with disapprobation in reference to the rest. The theologian is constrained to take a side as he studies this deeply-exciting history. A passionless neutrality is absolutely impossible. At the same time, a student is chargeable with injustice who does not carefully strive to ascertain the defects of his own party; and he also is wanting in charity if he be not ever ready to acknowledge the moral and spiritual excellencies of persons, whose opinions were different from those which he himself entertains. When all modifying influences have been conscientiously analyzed by the catholic-hearted reader of ecclesiastical history, he will rejoice in believing that the centre of Christian life is not in creeds,[433] polities, and forms, but in One Divine Redeemer; and that Herbert and Fuller, Hammond and Baxter, Taylor and Howe, and the whole company of faithful souls, a few of whose names have occurred in these volumes, were looking to one and the same Christ for holiness and peace.

Pictures are drawn of the religion and morals of the Commonwealth mostly of two kinds; rose-coloured, glowing with brightest tints; or dark and gloomy, crossed with still deeper shades. Spiritual prosperity and little else is to be seen in the first; hypocrisy and vice alone are visible in the second. Party spirit is betrayed in each of these styles of historical, or rather fictitious art; yet neither serves its object. For, if there was so much prosperity as is sometimes represented, how superficial, how slightly-rooted it must have been, seeing the Restoration of Charles II. swept it almost all away; and if there was so much of hypocrisy and vice as some declare, it is but just to ask them, who were the chief hypocrites but the people who afterwards threw off the mask? Who must have been the most vicious in secret but those who sinned so very openly when restraint was gone? The fact is, that neither extreme receives support from a calm review of facts.

The materials for forming a judgment of the actual state of religion during the Civil Wars and the Commonwealth are manifold. Attention should be directed first to the general accounts of the times which have been handed down to us by contemporaries. Isaak Walton, in his "Life of Dr. Robert Sanderson," declares that "the common people were amazed and grown giddy by the many falsehoods and misapplications of truth frequently vented in sermons, when they wrested the Scripture, by challenging God to be of their party, and called[434] upon Him in their prayers to patronize their sacrilege and zealous frenzies." He also complains of honesty and plain dealing being exchanged for cruelty and cunning, and of the encouragement given to perjury by the violation of one oath through the taking of another. He says that Sanderson lamented much that "in many parishes where the maintenance was not great there was no minister to officiate; and that many of the best sequestered livings were possessed with such rigid Covenanters as denied the sacrament to their parishioners unless upon such conditions, and in such a manner, as they could not take it."[460]

Baxter, however, remarks: "If any shall demand whether the increase of godliness was answerable in all places to what I have mentioned (and none deny that it was with us) I answer, that however men that measure godliness by their gain, and interest, and domination, do go about to persuade the world that godliness then went down, and was almost extinguished, I must bear this faithful witness to those times, that as far as I was acquainted, where before there was one godly profitable preacher, there was then six or ten; and, taking one place with another, I conjecture there is a proportionable increase of truly godly people, not counting heretics, or perfidious rebels, or Church disturbers, as such. But this increase of godliness was not in all places alike; for in some places, where the ministers were formal, or ignorant, or weak and imprudent, contentious or negligent,[435] the parishes were as bad as heretofore. And in some places, where the ministers had excellent parts and holy lives, and thirsted after the good of souls, and wholly devoted themselves, their time, and strength, and estates thereunto, and thought no pains or cost too much, there abundance were converted to serious godliness. And with those of a middle state, usually they had a hidden measure of success. And I must add this to the true information of posterity, that God did so wonderfully bless the labours of His unanimous faithful ministers, that had it not been for the faction of the Prelatists on one side, that drew men off, and the factions of the giddy and turbulent sectaries on the other side (who pulled down all government, cried down the ministers, and broke all into confusion, and made the people at their wits' end, not knowing what religion to be of), together with some laziness and selfishness in many of the ministry, I say, had it not been for these impediments, England had been like, in a quarter of an age, to have become a land of saints, and a pattern of holiness to all the world, and the unmatchable paradise of the earth. Never were such fair opportunities to sanctify a nation lost and trodden under foot as have been in this land of late! Woe be to them that were the causes of it."[461]

The honesty of Isaak Walton is undoubted; yet no one who has read his charming biographies will regard him as free from prejudice in his opinion of the Puritans. But Baxter—though strongly opposed to the course of things after the Restoration, and one who may be regarded as a party man—yet kept himself singularly free from party ties during the Commonwealth; for, whilst he was an enemy to the sectaries, he also exercised the privi[436]lege of criticising the Presbyterians. On that account, considerable impartiality must be admitted as characterizing his report; and indeed the discriminating tone of his remarks indicates how carefully he strove to avoid exaggeration and to do justice on all sides.[462]

Next to general statements, we ought to consider the particular results of the Puritan ministry as recorded at the time. Turning to Baxter's account of Kidderminster, and to the life of Wilson at Maidstone (specimens of both have been largely copied in former pages), we discover ample proofs of religious prosperity according to the Puritan type, and much which all Christians, whatever be their opinions, must admire. In Lancashire the Presbyterian system was rather fully carried out, with what success has been described. Certainly, the failure of Presbyterian discipline in London is manifest.

Proceeding to consult biographies, we find that the lives of Hammond, Sanderson, and Bull, bear witness to Episcopalian devotion and constancy under oppression; and on referring to "Clarke's Lives," and other memoirs of the same class, we are made acquainted with a large number of godly Puritans who were living in the days of Oliver Cromwell.

Over against these records of individual excellence, however, must be placed appeals in contemporary sermons, and also treatises, which teem with rebukes and reproof, such as imply very unfavourable impressions of the general religious character of the times. Farindon, in one of his[437] discourses, exclaims: "The Church mourneth, her very face is disfigured. Religion mourneth, being trod underfoot, and only her name held up to keep her down." "Have ye no regard, all ye that pass by the way, to see a troubled State, a disordered Church moulded into sects, and crumbled into conventicles, religion enslaved and dragged to vile offices, true devotion spit at, and hypocrisy crowned, common honesty almost become a reproach, and the upright moral man condemned to hell."[463] Farindon, however, it must be remembered, was a son of the Episcopal Church of England, stung with grief for his mother's sad humiliation; and although he owed something to those who allowed him to preach, and who restored him to his pastoral charge, still he could scarcely avoid regarding with some prejudice what was going on around him. Not only do Episcopal authors speak unfavourably of the times, but Presbyterian and Independents do the same. Dr. Annesley, in a sermon preached at St. Paul's, in the year 1655, thus addressed his congregation:—"When you stood upon lower ground did you not think magistrates might do more than they did? Do you now do what you then thought? If you say you have performed the commandment of the Lord, a bystander will perhaps reply: What mean, then, the blasphemous swearing, the roaring drunkenness, the common whoredoms, the rambling Sabbath breakings, &c.? may these sons of Belial plead liberty of conscience? If you cannot reach those that pull the crown from the head of Christ in way of spirital wickedness, pray hold their hands that would stab the heart of Christ by moral wickedness."[464]

[438]

The language of Dr. Owen is very strong. "Whilst all the issues of providential dispensations in reference to the public concernments of these nations are perplexed and entangled, the footsteps of God lying in the deep, where His paths are not known; whilst in particular, unparalleled distresses, and strange prosperities are measured out to men, yea to professors; whilst a spirit of error, giddiness, and delusion goes forth with such strength and efficacy, as it seems to have received a commission to go and prosper; whilst there are such divisions, strifes, emulations, attended with such evil surmises, wrath, and revenge, found amongst brethren; whilst the desperate issues and products of men's temptations are seen daily in partial and total apostasy, in the decay of love, the overthrow of faith, our days being filled with fearful examples of backsliding, such as former ages never knew; whilst there is a visible declension from reformation seizing upon the professing party of these nations, both as to personal holiness, and zeal for the interest of Christ."[465]

In all honesty, we feel bound to give these extracts; but we would remind the reader that passages of this order require qualification. No one can accept literally, and as a whole, what Cyprian wrote about the moral condition of the Church at Carthage; or what Chrysostom declared, or implied, respecting the people of Constantinople; or what Salvian testified relative to Roman society; or what Luther said of Germany; or what Melancthon wrote of the dissensions of the Reformers;[466] or what Becon reported of English morality in Edward the Sixth's reign;[467] or what[439] preachers uttered relative to the state of religion in the times of Queen Elizabeth.[468] We instinctively make some allowance for the impetuosity of indignation betrayed by honest men as they warned their contemporaries. Their strong language, and the respectful manner in which it was listened to, indicated that amidst the existence of the worst evils there also existed what was infinitely different. The words of English authors at the Puritan epoch must be dealt with in a discriminating spirit, such as guides us in the interpretation of Greek and Latin teachers in patristic times, and German and English preachers at the epoch of the Reformation.

Further, the theology of the period should be carefully studied. None of its varieties; none of its excellencies; none of its defects should be overlooked. We ought impartially to aim at finding out exactly what High Churchmen taught, and as a just result, give them credit for catholic orthodoxy, for calm devotion, and for ethical appeals in their writings; and not merely condemn them for what was legal and ritualistic, and for what was ascetic and superstitious in their views and ways. With equal impartiality, also, ought we to survey the doctrinal literature of the Puritan school in its different departments, as found in the works of Presbyterians, Independents, Baptists, and Quakers; marking well the prominence generally assigned in them to the redemption which was wrought by the Lord Jesus Christ, to the work of the Holy Spirit, and to the enforcement of moral duties by motives which had been drawn from the Gospel. And with corresponding fidelity it becomes us to note the narrow conceptions of the atonement, and the high views of predestination which appear in some cases; and also the[440] too minute and metaphysical distinctions common in a large number of Puritan productions; together with the want of sympathy which they indicate with forms of sentiment differing from their own. Habits of theological thinking both expressed and shaped the religious character and experience of the times.

Putting together all these materials for forming an opinion of the spiritual condition of the people during the period embraced in this work, we should say, that what was true of one place might not be true of another; that in cities and larger towns many of the middle classes became sincere Presbyterians and Independents, whilst in small towns and villages Royalism lingered, associated with a strong attachment to Episcopacy; that in both Puritan and Anglican instances, eminent piety existed by the side of hypocrisy and immorality; and that amidst a great deal of formalism, superficial religion, and mere external morality, there flourished a large amount of vital godliness; that spirituality of feeling might be often found apart from wisdom, and coupled with unhealthy excitement; that Puritans were intensely anti-ritualistic, hating "pontifician fooleries," and joining to "hiss them out of the Church"[469]—their English common sense, as well as the spiritual perception of the genius of the Gospel, causing them to revolt from the absurdities of "Catholic" ceremonials; that Anglicans themselves, by the time the Civil Wars were over, had learned a salutary lesson, and were weaned somewhat from the follies of Archbishop Laud, and under the Protectorate passed through a discipline which made them somewhat wiser at the Restoration, in reference to the pomp of worship than they had been twenty years before;[441] that a large proportion of true Christians were then, as ever, of the common mediocre type, described as neither white, nor red, but "good brown ochre;" that the furnace of affliction purified the Episcopal part of the Church from some of the dross which had largely alloyed it at a previous period, and brought out the piety and patience of its confessors in beautiful colours whilst the temporal prosperity of Puritanism proved rather unfavourable to its spiritual character; and that, on the whole, there was a broader surface, and a richer depth of genuine piety during the period we have reviewed, than was the case just before or just afterwards.

Nor can it be doubted that England then could bear comparison with other countries at the same time. For on the Continent, in Roman Catholic lands, though some of the worst ecclesiastical abuses had been reformed, and the morals of the clergy had improved, and the Inquisition had been checked, yet the chief activities of religious thought, and the main business of education, had fallen almost entirely into the hands of Jesuits. From the orthodoxy of Protestant kingdoms and states there had been brushed off very much of the dew of its youth. The Lutheran and Reformed Churches of Germany had lost their "first love," and had become much more the conservators of a cold, dogmatic Christianity than the warm-hearted disciples of the Living Word. They kept their eyes open for the detection of heterodoxy, and they assailed one another sharply for slight deviations from certain standards which had been handed down by their fathers, but they had declined in spirituality and devotion.[470] They guarded the stones of the altar, but they let the fire die down to a few red ashes.[442] Theological learning abounded, pastoral diligence of a certain description extensively obtained, but Evangelical fervour had declined, and the revival of piety under Spener did not commence until after the Restoration in England had taken place. The religion of the Commonwealth found scarcely a parallel at that time in Europe.[471]

CHAPTER XVI.

The Religious State of our Colonial Empire forms an essential part of our Ecclesiastical History.

Early English colonization was, doubtless, stained with avarice and cruelty, but it is a thorough mistake to suppose that all who engaged in that great enterprise were reckless adventurers. Men of just and generous dispositions took part in the wonderful work; and the corner stones of our dependent empire were laid with the forms, and to some extent, in the very spirit of religion. Ecclesiastical ties were from the beginning entwined with those which were political around these daughters of England; and the double relation plainly appears in our national records during the period of the Long Parliament, and under the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell. Some reference to the preceding state of the Colonies, with regard to religion, is requisite as an introduction to what we have to relate of the Colonial policy of the Commonwealth in this respect.

When Sir Hugh Willoughby, in the last year of King Edward the Sixth's reign, started on his unfortunate expedition for the discovery of unknown regions, he received from John Cabot—the great pioneer of Colonial enter[444]prise—a code of instructions which were strongly stamped with the marks of a practical piety. The fleet—as we learn from an old narrative—sailed down the Thames, the greater ships towed with boats and oars, the mariners being "apparelled in watchet or sky-coloured cloth;" and, as it passed Greenwich—where the Court resided, and where the young monarch was lying at the point of death—the people stood thick upon the shore, the privy councillors of his Majesty looking out at the windows; pieces of ordnance were fired, "insomuch that the tops of the hills sounded therewith," and the sky rang with the sailors' shouts; one man stood on the poop of the ship, and another walked on the hatches, whilst others were climbing up the shores and the mainyard—the good King, "only by reason of his sickness, was absent from this show." As Willoughby and his men started on their voyage—thus picturesquely described by an eye-witness—the directions which they carried with them, after strictly prohibiting all profane and immoral conduct, contained this very important rule:—"That the morning and evening prayer, with other common services appointed by the King's majesty and laws of this realm, to be read and said in every ship daily by the minister in the admiral, and the merchant, or some other person learned in other ships, and the Bible or paraphrases to be read devoutly, and Christianly, to God's honour, and for His grace to be obtained, and had by humble and hearty prayer of the navigants accordingly." "This," observes Thomas Fuller, "may be termed the first reformed fleet which had English prayers and preaching therein."[472]

[445]

In Queen Elizabeth's letters patent to Sir Humfrey Gilbert, "for the inhabiting and planting of our people in America," there is—together with a characteristic assertion of the royal prerogative—a provision that the laws of the Colonies "be not against the true Christian faith or religion now professed in the Church of England." A rough, ungovernable set composed the expedition, including "morris-dancers, hobby-horses, and May-like conceits to delight the savage people;" yet the captain of one of the vessels, named Haies, must have been a man of religious purpose, for after the melancholy misadventures which had befallen him and his companions in Newfoundland, he observes generally with respect to such enterprises: "we cannot precisely judge (which only belongeth to God) what have been the humours of men stirred up to great attempts of discovering and planting in those remote countries, yet the events do shew that either God's cause hath not been chiefly preferred by them, or else God hath not permitted so abundant grace as the light of His Word and knowledge of Him to be yet revealed unto those infidels before the appointed time."[473] The errors and sins of the first English adventurers and colonists have been exposed with an unsparing justice, if not with something more; but the religiousness of certain noble-minded men, amongst them, such as is illustrated by the facts just indicated, and by others of a similar kind, has been often most unfairly overlooked.

I. Charters which were granted by the English Crown before the Civil Wars for settlements in foreign lands, prove how extensive were our Colonial dominions even at that period. We have space to touch only upon those which were most important.

The charter for the plantation of Virginia, in the year 1606, bears witness to the arbitrary power of James I.; but it also distinctly recognizes as part of the proposed "noble work," the propagating of the Christian religion to such people as yet lived in darkness and in miserable ignorance of the true knowledge and worship of God. Robert Hunt, "an honest, religious, and courageous Divine," stands out amongst his companions as most conspicuous for his piety and goodness; and one of the first acts, performed under his influence by the whole company as they landed upon the new domains, was to receive together the Holy Communion. Captain John Smith—a young man at the time of his embarking for Virginia, possessed of great genius, and bearing a high character, whose heroism and romantic deliverance by the lovely and noble native girl, named Pocahuntas, is well known—has left the following relation of the first religious services which were conducted in the new-found home of the brave voyagers. "I have been often demanded by so many how we began to preach the Gospel in Virginia, and by what authority, what churches we had, our order of service, and maintenance for our ministers, therefore I think it not amiss to satisfy their demands, it being the mother of all our plantations, intreating pride to spare laughter, to understand her simple beginning and proceedings. When I first went to Virginia, I well remember, we did hang an awning (which is an old sail), to three or four trees, to shadow us from the sun, our walls were rails of wood, our seats unhewed trees, till we cut planks; our pulpit a bar of wood nailed to two neighbouring trees. In foul weather we shifted into an old rotten tent, for we had few better, and this came by way of adventure for new. This was our church, till we built a homely thing[447] like a barn, set upon cratchets, covered with rafts, sedge, and earth, so was also the walls; the best of our houses of the like curiosity, but the most part far much worse workmanship, that could neither well defend wind nor rain, yet we had daily common prayer morning and evening, every Sunday two sermons, and every three months the Holy Communion, till our minister died. But our prayers daily, with an homily on Sundays, we continued two or three years after, till more preachers came. And surely God did most mercifully hear us, till the continued inundations of mistaken directions, factions, and numbers of unprovided libertines near consumed us all, as the Israelites in the wilderness."[474]

This passage shews the attachment of the Virginian colonists to the Established Church of the mother country; and as they were chiefly persons of the higher class—being noblemen, gentlemen, and merchants of London—they were in sympathy with the ruling powers; and, as might be expected, were zealous for the forms and orders of the English Episcopal communion. The pious Governor, Lord De la Warr, who, in 1610, revived the drooping colony, carefully procured "true preachers;" and his secretary reports, how he placed the church under the care of a sexton, causing it to be kept passing sweet, "and trimmed up with divers flowers;" how, as the chimes rang at ten o'clock in the morning, each man addressed himself to prayers, and how, every Sunday, the Governor—accompanied by all the gentlemen, and by a guard of halberdiers, dressed in his lordship's livery of "fair red cloaks"—sat in the quire, in a green velvet chair, with a velvet cushion spread on the table before him, at which[448] he knelt. The type of piety cherished by the Virginian settlers may be inferred from the secretary's picture; and unhappily the governor was entrusted with a code called "Laws Martial," which were to be exercised whenever it should be necessary. These laws provided, that speaking against the Articles of the Christian faith should be capitally punished; that irreverent behaviour to a Christian minister should subject the offender to three public whippings; that absence from Divine service on week days and on the Sabbath should be accounted a State crime, deserving, if thrice repeated, of labour in the galleys for six months. Every one coming to the colony who refused to give an account of his faith to some minister of religion was to be whipt.[475] The absurdity of these laws soon appeared, from the impossibility of executing them. The articles of instruction given by the Home Government to Sir Francis Wyatt, who was appointed Governor in the year 1621, were of a different character. Nothing was said of penalties, and factions; but needless novelties tending to the disturbance of peace and unity were discouraged. These expressions, however, must have been intended solely for the purpose of conciliating such members of the Episcopal Church as might be jealous of Popish innovations; for to suppose they meant a liberal policy towards Nonconformists in general, would be an idea utterly inconsistent with all we know of the Stuart rule.[476] Puritans could not go to Virginia except by royal licence, and when they had reached their new home, the[449] letter of the law—valid there, as well as in England—left them still liable to the scourge of persecution. Prudence for a while might induce the Virginian authorities to wink at Puritanism within their borders; but their history affords no signs of their righteously legislating upon that important subject. Indeed, on reaching the year 1629, we discover the sternest intolerance in the acts and orders of the Colonial Assembly. People who did not go to church were fined a pound of tobacco for every instance of neglect, and fifty pounds for every month's absence; and, in 1632, uniformity to the Church of England was vigorously enforced, a shilling fine being imposed in every case of non-attendance at worship.[477] Upon the outbreak of the Civil Wars, the loyal Virginians identified Nonconformists with Republicans, and forthwith banished all Dissenters outside their borders.

The Bermudas were intimately connected with Virginia. By an extension of the charter granted to the latter Colony in the year 1612, these islands came into its possession. The Company again sold them to members of its own body, who were established as a new corporation, under the name of the Somers Islands' Company. The daughter Colony went beyond its parent state in the assertion of ecclesiastical uniformity, and angrily stood up in support of the Church of England "against all Atheists, Papists, Anabaptists, Brownists, and all other heretics and sectaries whatsoever."[478] Yet, when religious animosities arose, and the only two clergymen who were in the islands refused subscription to the Prayer Book as it was—the Governor, forced by circumstances into some sort of compromise, "bethought himself of the Liturgy of[450] Guernsey and Jersey, wherein all the particulars they so much stumbled at were omitted."[479]

The original charter for Maryland bears date 1632, and was granted to Lord Baltimore, a Roman Catholic nobleman of high character and honourable renown. Upon condition of yielding two Indian arrows at Windsor Castle every Easter Tuesday, he received with the ownership of the lands the Governorship of the Colony. He also became invested with all advowsons, and with the power of licensing churches and chapels—to be consecrated according to the ecclesiastical laws of this kingdom. To the same Governor were further granted such royal rights "as any Bishop of Durham ever had." The inconsistency of granting such a charter to any individual who was a Roman Catholic, however excellent a man he might be, is obvious to every one. An establishment, according to Protestant law, thus came under the complete control of an individual of a perfectly different communion. Yet, though the procedure appears so inconsistent, it, in fact, happily proved the means of securing to the Maryland people the blessing of religious liberty to a greater extent than that in which it was enjoyed in any other Colony. An oath, which was required to be taken by the Governor and Council, in these words:—"I will not, by myself or any other, directly or indirectly, trouble, molest, or discountenance any person professing to believe in Jesus Christ, for or in respect of[451] religion"[480]—was perhaps framed especially with the view of affording refuge for persecuted Roman Catholics on the shores of Chesapeake Bay; but it is pleasant to recollect that under its shadow and in harmony with its design Protestants also found shelter from Protestant intolerance.[481]

A Colony of a very different nature commenced in 1620. That year certain adventurers were incorporated as "the Council established at Plymouth, in the county Devon, for the planting, ruling, ordering, and governing New England, in America."[482] Yet not from them has New England obtained its illustrious name in American history, but from the men who fled across the Atlantic without the knowledge or the aid of either company or king. A band of persons holding Congregational views of Church government, and driven from their native shores by persecution, had settled in Holland some years earlier, and now their numbers having increased, some of them determined to emigrate. Their thoughts at first turned towards Virginia, and they procured a patent under the Virginia Company's seal. But it ran in the name of a gentleman who did not proceed thither,[483] and consequently it became of no service to the emigrants. These, at last, trusting alone in God, resolved to direct their course to the shores of New England. On the 6th September, 1620—fourteen years after the first colonization of Virginia, and two months before the incorporation of the Company at Plymouth—the Pilgrim Fathers set sail on their memorable voyage. This is not the place to tell the story of their adventures—of the parting of the "May Flower" from the "Speedwell"—of the solitary[452] course of the former vessel, of its battle with the elements of the landing of the voyagers at Cape Cod, and the dreary coasting expedition of the afflicted party until their feet touched the Plymouth Rock. The story may well inspire American historians with an enthusiasm, deeper as it is more pure, than that of the poet who sang the fortunes of Æneas:—

Before landing, the Pilgrims covenanted, as the loyal subjects of King James—having undertaken, for the glory of God and the advancement of the Christian faith, a voyage to plant the first Colony in the northern parts of Virginia—that they would combine together as a body politic for the furtherance of those ends, and enact equal laws meet for the general good of the Colony.[484] These Christian-minded men, wearied with the injustice which they had endured, and distressed at the irreligion which they had witnessed at home, constituted themselves at once, in the simplicity of their hearts and the fervour of their zeal, a Christian Church and a political State—not perceiving the inconsistency of the act, and not foreseeing the difficulties into which such an identification of the civil and the ecclesiastical would very speedily plunge them.

The Council for New England—just mentioned as established at Plymouth in the year 1620—granted a patent for the establishment of a Colony in the country of Massachusetts. The Puritans in England took an interest in its progress; and, by means of influence which they exerted on its behalf, a Charter for the Company of Massachusetts Bay, in the course of[453] twelve months, passed the Royal Seal.[485] That Charter constituted it a trading corporation, and conveyed power to make all necessary ordinances for Government, so as that such ordinances were not repugnant to the laws and statutes of this our realm of England. It conceded no rights of self-government, and, according to strict interpretation, it allowed the people no liberty of worship. Yet in the covenant which the emigrants subscribed, at the moment of landing on the shores of their new home, they bound themselves to walk together according as God revealed Himself unto them—in matters of worship resolving to cleave unto Him alone—and to reject all contrary ways, canons, and constitutions. At the same time, they promised to act with all watchfulness and tenderness toward their brethren, avoiding jealousies, suspicions, backbitings, and secret risings of spirit.[486] Winthrop, the Governor of the new colonists, spoke, at the same time, in their name, of the Church of England in terms of the strongest filial love, calling her a dear mother, from whom the pilgrim emigrants had parted in tears, having in her bosom received their share in the common salvation, and having sucked it, as it were, from her breasts.[487] It was not, however, as Ecclesiastical Puritans that Winthrop and his companions made these professions. Their well-known opinions, in relation to the Church of England, sufficed to indicate that they could not intend their words to be applied to her formularies and her government;[454] but as doctrinal Puritans these men could employ such language with the most perfect sincerity. They spoke, as some can speak still, who, on grounds of polity and of worship alone, dissent from her communion.

Whatever may be thought of the interpretation practically given by Winthrop and his brethren to the terms of the Royal Charter, everybody must acknowledge the affectionate spirit towards the Church of England which was breathed in his memorable letter;—but it must be confessed that equally inconsistent with the Charter, and with the Epistle, was the conduct of the Council of Massachusetts before the end of the year 1629, when they sent into banishment two of their number, who, whilst they were described as "sincere in their affection for the good of the plantation," were charged with upholding worship according to the Book of Common Prayer. "You are Separatists," said the Episcopalians to their Puritan brethren, "and you will shortly be Anabaptists." "We separate," it was replied, "not from the Church of England, but from its corruptions. We came away from the Common Prayer and ceremonies in our native land, where we suffered much for Nonconformity; in this place of liberty we cannot, we will not use them. Their imposition would be a sinful violation of the worship of God."[488] It is easy to imitate the special pleading so often heard on the High Church side of the great controversy of which this was but a small part, and to suggest certain excuses for the Massachusetts rulers; and to say that this was a measure of self-defence, and that it was intended to crush in the germ what might have grown into formidable mischief. But we attempt nothing of that kind. We[455] will not soften the fact that the adherents of Episcopacy were treated by these Puritans as if they had been guilty of sedition, their worship being forbidden, and they themselves being sent back to the mother country in the character of transported convicts. The men who acted in this way must ever bear the blame and odium of intolerance. Nor can we omit to point out the sophistry of objecting to the use of the Prayer Book on the ground of the iniquity of imposing it.

It has been noticed in our introduction, in the first volume, that the severities of Archbishop Laud drove many Puritans into exile; and in this way he largely contributed to the growth of the New England States. That growth alarmed him. He thought it perilous to suffer a receptacle for schismatics to be filled so fast, "from whence, as from the bowels of the Trojan horse, so many incendiaries might break out to inflame the nation." To prevent such mischief—as Heylyn, the Primate's admiring biographer, informs us—it came "under consultation of the chief physicians," who were entrusted with the care of the Church's health, to send a Bishop over to the Colonies "for their better government, and back him with some forces to compel, if he were not otherwise able to persuade obedience."[489] Happily for the Colonies and for England, the Archbishop never did carry out his purpose, having more than enough to do with other troublesome affairs; but when occupying the see of London, he had claimed control over English congregations abroad—that claim being the origin of the extensive jurisdiction of the metropolitan see, which has been maintained ever since—and had striven hard to stretch his all-meddling hands round both the Colonial companies in the New[456] World, and the commercial factories in the Old one. Indeed, over the whole earth, his spiritual ambition essayed to travel. He aimed at bringing under his rule, settlers in Turkey, in the Mogul's dominions, in the Indian Islands, in the Virginian plantations, and in Barbadoes; in short, wherever Englishmen had any residence in the way of trade.[490] In the year 1634—soon after his translation to Canterbury—the Archbishop procured a commission, addressed to himself and others, and couched in general terms, forming an intended basis for subsequent special instructions in reference to the affairs of the North American settlements.[491] Aiming at what he could not reach, and when circumstances denied him any effectual interference, still collecting information, weaving nets, and spreading toils in hope of a more propitious season, he diligently persevered in his colonial policy. Nothing escaped him. A letter written by Dr. Stoughton, a New England Puritan, fell into his hands. The writer rejoiced that God had made him acquainted with the manner in which He would be worshipped, and that he had seen that which his forefathers desired to witness, even the liberty which Christ had purchased for His people; and then this correspondent related, with grief, a strange thing, as he calls it, which had been done by members of the Church of Salem, who, from a pious horror of superstition, had cut out the cross in the State flag. This harmless letter is folded up, and endorsed "Dr. Stoughton, shewing his great correspondence with the irregular, inconformable fugitive ministers beyond the seas in New England."[492] Then comes the copy of "a form of project[457] for settling the profession of the Gospel of Christ in New England, to be signed by benefactors to that plantation." This, too, bears an endorsement, "Found amongst Dr. Stoughton's papers. This letter containeth an undue way of gathering monies without authority, for the plantation in New England." There is also a sheet containing "Three Propositions concerning Justification by Works; faith, active or passive, in justification; and saving preparation before union with Christ;" which propositions are described as having "divided Mr. Hooker and Mr. Cotton in New England." A farther memorandum, on the same subject, bears a careful endorsement by the Archbishop of the precise date when he received these communications. In addition to all these, we find in another paper, "a relation of the manner in which persons are received into the congregations of New England. They make confession of their faith, and they give glory to God. Their conscience and conversation must be approved. In case of notorious scandal past, confession is to be made penitently. They covenant to obey the whole truth of the Gospel of Christ."[493] In the same collection there is also a letter written to the prelate by a person, named Thomas Lane, who was chief of the learned Commissioners appointed by the King to examine and rectify all complaints from the plantations, and who was also a minister of religion. This person sent home to the indefatigable prelate an account of the clergy in the island of Barbadoes. He reported that, within the previous five or six years, the people had[458] built six churches, besides some chapels; and that parish affairs had been committed to vestrymen, having power to place and displace pastors and to regulate their stipends. The Governor, he went on to say, chose the ministers and agreed with them as he pleased, whereby they were "made and esteemed no better than mercenaries." Taxes, such as had never before been imposed by Christians on the clergy, they were compelled to pay; taxes even for the very heads upon their shoulders; taxes for their wives as well, and for their children who might be above seven years old. Parish clerks were maintained out of these revenues. "What," asks Mr. Lane, "can be expected where ignorance both of the laws of God and men doth domineer?" Hoping his Grace would provide a remedy—since it was time for authority to set to her helping hand—the writer concluded with the reflection that, "they live in the declining age of the world, wherein there is not to be found that youthful zeal of God's house which was wont to eat up men."[494] From a document, dated September the 4th, 1639, relating to Somers Islands, it appears that the Governor, Council, and many of the Company were Nonconformists. They were now required to carry out the directions received two years before, for reading the homilies and the Book of Common Prayer; and it was urged that at the Holy Sacrament, the reverend posture of kneeling should be adopted, and in baptism the signing of the cross should be used.[495] Archbishop Laud's immense activity and universal supervision of ecclesiastical affairs throughout the empire receive additional illustrations from these letters; the policy which he pursued towards those abroad as well as towards those who remained at home is also apparent[459] from the same documents; nor can any impartial reader fail to see that this policy was of a nature to make the Puritans, wherever they might be, welcome the wonderful change which, after being long and patiently waited for, came at last in the year 1641.

II. Such was the religious condition of the Colonies. What were the changes which followed the altered state of ecclesiastical affairs at home? During the storm of the Civil Wars, the English Government had so much to do at home that it found little space, and felt little power to do much, if anything, abroad. The Colonies, therefore, pursued their own course. Virginia remained loyal to the King and faithful to Episcopacy. When Charles perished on the scaffold, the legislature of the Colony declared that whoever defended the deed, or doubted the right of the King's son, should be judged guilty of high treason. At the same time, when fields in England were stained with blood, and defeat followed the Royal arms, the Colonists observed days of humiliation; and whilst exasperated by the sufferings of Royalist brethren, and by the depression of the Episcopal Church, they became increasingly earnest in enforcing ecclesiastical conformity—in their zeal banishing alike Popish recusants and Protestant Nonconformists.[496]

[460]

English possessions in Barbadoes may be dated from the year 1605, when an English crew landed on its shores.[497] We have nothing to do with the history of that island—remarkable, it may be observed, for its early difficulties, its subsequent rapid increase of population, and the wealth and luxury of its cavalier proprietors—beyond noticing the spirit and temper which were displayed in the Acts passed in the Colony relating to public worship. During the period of the Civil Wars the government of Barbadoes—under its lieutenant, Philip Bell—branded Nonconformists as "opinionated and self-conceited persons." The misdemeanours of such persons, it was said, begot distractions—and were both a reproach to the Church, and a disturbance to the government; and, therefore, for the suppression of disorderly courses, all who dwelt in the Colony were required to conform to the Church of England as established by Parliament—all offenders being threatened with the common penalties inflicted in England upon Nonconformists. Justices of the peace, ministers, and churchwardens, received commission to execute these Acts, as they regarded their duty to God, and their allegiance to the King. Family worship every morning and evening was enforced, the punishment for neglect being the forfeiture of forty pounds of sugar. Everybody had to[461] attend church, or suffer according to law. In case of the absence of servants from public worship, if it were the master's fault, he was required to pay ten pounds of cotton—if the servant's, then the case was left to be disposed of by the next Justice of the Peace. With a command to ministers that they should preach and catechise, was another addressed to churchwardens for erecting near to the Church of every parish a strong pair of stocks for the drunkard, the swearer, and the gamester.[498]

Maryland pursued its tolerant career, only denying toleration to those who denied the Holy Trinity. It is curious to find in that State, not punishments for heresy and schism, but this unique piece of legislation; people calling one another Heretic, Schismatic, Idolater, Puritan, Independent, Presbyterian, Popish Priest, Jesuit, Jesuited Papist, Lutheran, Calvinist, Anabaptist, Brownist, Antinomian, Barrowist, Roundhead, Separatist, or any other bad name, incurred the forfeiture of ten shillings for each offence, and, in default of payment, a sentence of whipping and imprisonment. Thus, not only was magisterial persecution altogether absent, but the Colony possessed as well, the noble distinction of having all social persecution forbidden within its precincts. No person professing to believe in Jesus Christ could be troubled on account of his religion; and any one daring to molest a Christian worshipper became liable to a fine of twenty shillings, or to the penalty of imprisonment or the lash.[499] All sorts of religionists there must have been in the colony of Maryland under its Roman Catholic governor; and although, no doubt, his eyes were chiefly fixed on his fellow-religionists, and he wished to secure liberty and comfort for them, it is to the unspeakable honour of his government, that, in[462] an age of intolerance, he should have adopted such a singularly wise and noble policy.

In the year 1643, the distinct States of Massachusetts, of Plymouth, of Connecticut, and of New Haven, constituted themselves the United Colonies of New England; each of them reserving to itself local jurisdiction as a State right. The affairs of the Confederacy were entrusted to Commissioners, two from each Colony, and it is important to observe that, in the Articles of the Union, Church membership is specified as a qualification, and the only qualification for that office.[500] Massachusetts had for some time been growing in importance, and had enjoyed an extension of territory by the annexation of New Hampshire, in the year 1641; followed by Maine, in 1652. The Government began to relax its severity of religious rule in the year 1644; and, in 1646, it endeavoured to excuse what was contained in its Statute Book, by saying, that such persons as differed from their neighbours only in theological opinion, but continued to live peaceably, had no cause of complaint; for the law had never been put in execution against any such persons, although many of that description were known to be residing in the State. The affair of the year 1629 they attempted to explain as an act of righteous discipline upon citizens who were unpeaceable. It was affirmed that quiet spirits received different treatment, and that two of the presidents of Harvard College were Anabaptists.[501] But soon afterwards this question of religious liberty, to its great detriment, became associated with local strifes; and a movement which had been commenced in the State of New Plymouth under promising circumstances—with the view of securing a full and universal toleration for all persons, even Turks, Jews,[463] Papists, Arians, Socinians, and Familists—found no favour with the leading men of the colony of Massachusetts; in consequence of which, those who would have been as "the eyes of God's people in England," damaged their reputation in the mother country, and Sir Harry Vane urged that "the oppugness of the Congregational way should not from its own principles and practice be taught to root it out."[502] At the same time, the New England States were determined to maintain their independence, and, although remaining as staunchly as ever the enemies of Episcopacy, they were shy in their correspondence with a Presbyterian Parliament. Orders from England, in their judgment, prejudiced their chartered liberties. Times might change, and other Princes and Parliaments might arise. They had themselves outridden the storm, and should they now perish within the port? No doubt the English rulers could better enact laws and adjudicate causes than could the poor rustics who had been bred up in a rude wilderness; but the vast distance between Old and New England abated the virtue of the strongest influences. So they argued; and then they proceeded to request a parent's benediction upon the infant plantations, that they might be blessed under the shadow of the mother country, and be nourished with the warmth and the dews of heaven.[503]

III. We have brought our sketch of the Ecclesiastical affairs of the Colonies down to the close of the Civil Wars, and the abolition of Royalty: the subsequent relation of those affairs to the Government at home now demands our attention. New England, although it had throughout the struggle maintained all possible independence, had never explicitly submitted to[464] Parliament; but as both its political and religious views were well known to be in sympathy with the successful party, when the reins fell into the hands of the Independents, they had no need, as in the case of certain other Colonies, to force into allegiance this particular plantation. The only legislative enactment adopted in reference to it had for its purpose the meeting of religious wants. John Eliot, a Puritan minister, from the county of Essex, who emigrated to New England in the year 1631, and who, from his zeal for the conversion of the aborigines of the State, has obtained the honourable appellation of "Apostle of the Indians," asked his fellow-Christians on this side of the Atlantic to help him in his noble undertaking. His appeals were backed by efforts in his favour both abroad and at home; in consequence of which, the Long Parliament established a Society for "the Propagation of the Gospel in New England."[504] The Act recites the particulars of a wonderful work which was going on amongst the natives, how barbarians were being civilized; how, forsaking their charms and sorceries, they were calling upon the name of the Lord, and with tears lamenting their misspent lives; how they had put their children to English schools, and now betook themselves to having but one wife; and how they conducted morning and evening prayer in their families. After this recital the Statute created a Corporation, to consist of a president, a treasurer, and fourteen assistants; it authorized them to make a common seal; it invested them with certain powers; and it also commanded that collections for the object should be made publicly in all congregations throughout England and Wales, and also privately from house to house. Eliot,[465] to whom the credit of the enterprise belongs, with a rare force of character, and with that pure and intense earnestness which only love to Christ can inspire, made amongst the North American Indians full proof of his ministry in the character and habits of these children of the forest, and wrought moral marvels amongst them, which have become the admiration of all succeeding times.[505] As he was gathering the red hunters into the fold of the "Great Spirit"—whose name he spent his life in explaining to their untutored minds—many of his countrymen at home sympathized with him in his holy toils. After the Restoration, Baxter and Boyle distinguished themselves by their helpful services in reference to Eliot's mission; and during the period of the Commonwealth, before his work had acquired renown, Puritan feeling in some quarters might have been seen brightly enkindled on his side.

It is painful to record, that at this time the New England Colonies tightened rather than relaxed the reins of their intolerance, under cover of alarm at irreligion and sectarianism. It may be pleaded that some religionists who then bore the name of Baptists and Quakers were very troublesome people, and that they held opinions which were calculated to disturb civil society; but it should be remembered that a similar plea has never been wanting when the cause of persecution has required to be bolstered up; and it is a policy as mischievous as it is unrighteous for the friends of religious freedom to employ in their[466] own cause the despicable weapons of their antagonists. Why not let the rulers of Massachusetts bear the deserved discredit of their inconsistencies? And why conceal the fact that those inconsistencies arose out of the pursuance of a perfectly self-chosen course? Neither the Government just before, nor the Government after the establishment of the Protectorate, had anything whatever to do with the matter. Not at the door of Whitehall, but on the threshold of Boston lies the responsibilty of the atrocious deed of hanging Mary Dyar, Marmaduke Stephenson, and William Robinson.

Speaking generally as to religious and secular interests, we may safely say that the New England Colonies confided in Cromwell, and Cromwell confided in them. When the Lord General had been fighting at the head of his soldiers, "the spirits of the brethren" on the other side of the Atlantic "were carried forth in faithful and affectionate prayers in his behalf;" and when sitting peacefully in his cabinet, he poured out his heart freely to his friends who were busy on the opposite side of the world, he candidly confessed that the battle of Dunbar, "'where some who were godly' were fought into their graves, was of all the acts of his life, that on which his mind had the least quiet, and he declared himself 'truly ready to serve the brethren and churches in America.'"[506] About two years before the death of Oliver Cromwell, Captain Gookin, a home official in New England, wrote to Thurloe, telling him that "the generality of the godly in all the country did cordially resent his Highness's goodwill, favour, and love," and did "unfeignedly bear upon their hearts before the Lord, him, his work, and helpers." The zealous officer added that he had[467] ground for thinking so. "All the English Colonies"—these are his words—"will see cause, in particular letters of thanks, to manifest their duty and special respects to his Highness."[507]

The Colony of Rhode Island chose a path of its own, not having been admitted to the New England Confederation, because of its refusal to acknowledge the jurisdiction of New Plymouth. The eccentric but noble-minded founder of the Colony was Roger Williams, who had been banished from Massachusetts for his very broad ecclesiastical and political opinions. He proceeded in a canoe with five other persons down the Seekonk River, in quest of a spot where he could carry out his independent and democratical principles; and tradition reports, that, as he approached a point now called Whatcheer Cove, he met with a party of Indians, who greeted him with a friendly salutation in the very words which gave the cove its well-known name, "What cheer?" Rather Utopian in his ideas, and impracticable in his disposition—not fitted to work well in a colony already established, and not promising much stability, even in one which he established himself—Roger Williams nevertheless commands very great respect for his intellectual ability, his literary attainments, his spirit of self-sacrifice, and his intense abhorrence of all persecution. There were numerous religious differences, and, consequently, plenty of confusion in the island home of this remarkable individual[468] and his sympathetic companions; but within its shores no penalties whatever were inflicted upon any class of religious professors. And notwithstanding his enthusiasm in the cause of freedom, he did not become blind to the necessities of government in the maintenance of social order. He ingeniously argued, that a ship at sea, carrying on board several hundred souls who were bound together by the interests of a common weal and woe, presented a just illustration of a commonwealth; and that as Papists and Protestants, Jews and Turks, sailing in a vessel, ought not to be forced to join in the captain's prayers, so people ought not to be coerced into national forms of religion; but, at the same time, as the captain ought to command the ship's course, and maintain justice, peace, and sobriety amongst the crew, so ought the magistrate to judge and punish such people as injured their neighbours by resisting the civil government of the State.[508]

Williams came to London, in the year 1643, to seek the favour and protection of Parliament. Conscious weakness induced him then to do that which his old companions in New England afterwards declined in consequence of conscious strength. The "printed Indian labours" of this indefatigable person,—the like whereof respecting anyone in America, it is said, was not extant—and his singular merits as a Christian missionary, induced "both Houses of Parliament to grant unto him and friends with him a free and absolute charter of Civil Government for those parts of his abode;" and hence they became a legalized corporation on the shores of Narragansett Bay, invested with full authority to rule themselves.[509] Williams visited England, a second time, upon Colonial business,[469] and then, as before, received special assistance from Vane—assistance acknowledged in a Colonial address, (1654), which summed up the history of this free little Republic. "From the first beginning of the Providence Colony," it was said, "you have been a noble and true friend to an outcast and despised people; we have ever reaped the sweet fruits of your constant loving-kindness and favour. We have long been free from the iron yoke of wolfish bishops; we have sitten dry from the streams of blood spilt by the wars in our native country. We have not felt the new chains of the Presbyterian tyrants, nor in this Colony have we been consumed by the over zealous fire of the so-called godly Christian magistrates. We have not known what an excise means, we have almost forgotten what tithes are. We have long drunk of the cup of as great liberties as any people, that we can hear of under the whole heaven. When we are gone, our posterity and children after us shall read, in our town records, your loving-kindness to us, and our real endeavour after peace and righteousness."[510]

Upon the abolition of Royalty in England, certain of the Colonies became refractory. Parliament heard, on the 5th of October, 1650, that, inasmuch as many well-affected persons had been driven away from Barbadoes, the Council of State was of opinion that the island should be reduced, and a fleet sent thither for that purpose.[511] Whereupon an Act was passed prohibiting trade with the plantation there, and with the sister States, who were sharers in the disaffection—including Virginia, Bermudas, and Antigua—and empowering the Council to bring them all into speedy subjection to the authority of the Commonwealth.[512] Sir George Ayscue, commander[470] of a ship called the Rainbow, conducted a fleet into the Western seas, taking with him as brother Commissioners, Daniel Searle and Captain Michael Pack, whose instructions were, to insist upon the submission of the inhabitants of Barbadoes, to enforce there the Acts of Parliament against Kingship, the House of Lords, and the use of the Book of Common Prayer, and to require every person in the Colonies to take the Engagement.[513] A summons to surrender to the Commonwealth reached Lord Willoughby, the Governor of Barbadoes, accompanied by an assurance that the Commissioners wished by "amicable ways" to bring the Colony to obedience, without bloodshed, or the destruction of "their long laboured for estates."[514] But the representative body in the State expressed indignation at this endeavour to persuade the ignorant, that the Government now set up in England by miseries, bloodsheds, rapines, and other oppressions, was any better than that under which their ancestors had lived for hundreds of years; and further they declared how they despised all "menaces to drive them from their loyalty," to which their souls were as firmly united as they were to their bodies.[515] Abundance of parleying succeeded, and once, when Ayscue's men were invited on shore, "with a white flag," they were fired upon; in revenge for which act of treachery they burnt the houses of their assailants—a proceeding in positive opposition to Sir George's explicit orders.[516] At last, in midwinter, after three months had been spent in fruitless negotiation, proposals of peace from Lord Willoughby reached Ayscue on board the Rainbow, which was now anchored in Carlisle Bay. Articles specifying[471] the terms of an acceptable surrender were returned to Willoughby, conceding to the Colonists indemnity for their past resistance, and, for the future, the right of taxation, and other important political privileges. With respect to higher interests, the articles distinctly stated that no oaths, covenants, or engagements, should be imposed upon the inhabitants against their convictions, and that liberty of conscience should be allowed to all—"excepting to such whose tenets are inconsistent to a civil government."[517] But, strange to say, in another and corrected paper, sent a few days afterwards, the articles relating to oaths and to liberty of conscience are altogether omitted; yet, still more strange, after this, Willoughby replied to Ayscue, that the articles in this latter were the same in effect as had been previously received. At last the latter agreed to the first propositions made by the former—namely, that the Government should remain as already established—that all Acts passed in the Colony previously to the year 1638, and not being repugnant to the present laws of England, should continue in force, and that those concerning present differences should be repealed. In the final arrangement between the Governor and the Commissioner no stipulation appears to have been made touching matters of religion. Such matters were left to shape themselves according to circumstances. The use of the Prayer Book was neither expressly forbidden nor expressly allowed. Liberty of conscience was neither secured nor denied in distinct terms. Nothing was agreed upon which could interfere with the subsequent legislation of the Colony in relation to ecclesiastical matters, except a general implication that all enactments in the future, as[472] well as those in the past, would be utterly invalid if they were found at all repugnant to the laws of the mother empire.[518] We find eighteen months afterwards, the next Governor, Colonel Daniel Searle, complaining of "unsatisfied" and "restless spirits" who, not content with the Constitution of England, would model "this little limb of the Commonwealth into a free state." He further informed the Council that in consequence of "some lately brought under the ordinance of baptism in a Church society"—by which expression, doubtless, Baptists are intended—having forwarded to England a remonstrance concerning the Colonial Assembly, that Assembly had desired that these remonstrants might be dismissed from public employment in the island; but Governor Searle gave reasons in detail why he could not comply with any such desire.[519]

As Ayscue steered towards Barbadoes, Captain Robert Dennis sailed to Virginia, for the reduction of the plantations in Chesapeake Bay.[520] No sooner did his ship, the Guinea frigate, heave in sight, than the Virginians abandoned all thoughts of resistance, and instantly came to terms. Like the Commissioners to the royalist colony of Barbadoes, Captain Dennis and his colleagues were charged by written instructions—amongst other things, to publish in Virginia the Acts of Parliament against Kingship, the House of Lords, and[473] the Book of Common Prayer. But it would appear that, upon submission by the Colonists to the powers at St. Stephen's and Whitehall, the execution of the Act in reference to religion came to be waived in America, as it had been waived in the West Indies. Indeed, in this case, Episcopal worship was expressly allowed for one year, on condition of all public allusions to monarchy being omitted in prayer. The clergy remained undisturbed, and were entitled to their accustomed dues for that space of time. Nor was there to be any censure for loyal supplications and speeches which might be uttered in private houses. Indeed, during the whole term of the Protectorate, Episcopal rites seem to have been continued in Virginia;[521] and the Home Government does not appear to have stained its character by any acts of persecution in that Colony, or in Barbadoes. It is curious to add that, as tobacco was the chief produce and the main staple of Virginia, it became used in the payment of taxes, of penalties, and of privileges. All titheable parishioners, "in the vacancy of their minister," were notwithstanding, to pay, per head, fifteen pounds of tobacco towards a church-building "and glebe" fund; Sabbath breakers and drunkards incurred a fine of one hundred pounds of tobacco; persons introducing ministers into the Colony at their own charge, were to receive, for so doing, the sum of twenty pounds sterling by bill[474] of exchange, or two thousand pounds weight of tobacco.[522]

The Bermudas became an asylum for Royalists at the end of the Civil Wars. A patent had been granted by King James for a Company there, so early as the year 1615; and, until 1653, this Company and the Colonial Council appointed by it were permitted to continue. But in the midst of the troubles at home, the Company neglected to consult the Council; the Colony suffered great distress; and "turbulent spirits," by their reports to the Home Authorities, prejudiced them against the Local Administration. Report reached head quarters that the Governor of Bermudas wished to "invite Charles Stuart to take possession" of the territory; and, therefore, in the year 1653, certain trustworthy Commonwealth's men received a commission to govern affairs in the islands with the same powers and privileges as the Old Company had enjoyed. But, in the year 1656, Colonel Owen Rowe wrote home, complaining that the former Government, standing upon the foundation of James the First's patent, had refused to acknowledge the New Commission. It had gone so far as to declare Charles' execution "bloody, traitorous, and rebellious;" to proclaim his son as Charles II.; and to avow a determination to be ruled only by laws which were sanctioned by the Crown. These bold Royalists enforced the oath of supremacy, imprisoned such as refused it, and banished Independents who sympathized with the regicides. The Council of State, however, persevered in efforts to secure subjugation, feeling the importance of the islands to the Commonwealth, and fearing lest the[475] Spaniards might endeavour to get a footing in them. Captain Wilkinson, commander of the chief castle in the Colony, was strongly urged to attend to his duties, and to keep a watchful eye upon the malignant party. Petitions from the inhabitants to the Lord Protector arrived a few months before his decease, stating that "the people were naked for want of clothing, naked to their enemies for want of ammunition, and further destitute for want of godly teachers"—ministers having received no salary for years past. Only a few days after Cromwell had expired another petition appeared, complaining of the disaffection of Deputy-Governor Sayle, and describing him as a Royalist, as one who condemned the late King's execution, and as an intimate friend of Colonial rebels, and of scandalous ministers.[523]

Cromwell, in his ill-fated expedition against the Spanish West Indies, was influenced by religious, perhaps, even more than by political and commercial considerations. He remembered the Protestant martyrs whom the Spaniards had put to death, and the poor innocent Indians whom they had barbarously murdered, and he thought that infinite good would arise to the honour of God by maiming the Colonial power of these enemies to the welfare of reformed Christendom. Spain, losing America, would have the sword wrested from her right hand, and then Europe would be relieved[476] from cruel wars, and from the disquietude and misery produced by perpetual attempts to extirpate true religion and to set up the idolatries and abominations of Popery. So Cromwell reasoned, in a State Paper delivered to the Dutch ambassador in the year 1653; in which also he proposed that England and Holland should send teachers gifted with Christian knowledge "unto all people and nations, to inform and enlarge the Gospel and the ways of Jesus Christ."[524] This design on Hispaniola proved altogether a very bad business, and was grievously laid to heart by the brave man, who, as a Protestant prince, wished to stand in the shoes of Gustavus Adolphus. Jamaica, however, fell into Cromwell's hands as soon as his soldiers approached the island. In the capital—St. Jago de la Vega—there stood an abbey and two Roman Catholic churches called the Red and the White Cross, which the Puritan soldiers immediately stripped of their superstitious ornaments. The country abounded in waste land, and lacked population. Cromwell aimed at making it a centre of Protestant influence, as much as of British dominion; and this being known, it was suggested to him by a French Protestant that he should gather there a number of foreigners professing the Reformed religion, who might constitute a sort of evangelical propaganda to "negative the designs of the Jesuits in those parts."[525] Plenty of room for work might be found in the uncultivated acres of that wild region for young Irish people, both men and women, and for "Scotch vagabonds," male and female.[526] The Council of State consequently resolved that such people should be sent over; but Cromwell desired above all to see godly New[477] Englanders settling upon the island. It was, he said, a chief end of his design, to enlighten those parts by means of such as knew and feared the Lord; and he thought that some who had been driven for conscience' sake into a barren wilderness, might now remove to a land of plenty.[527] He had confidence in the pilgrims of New Plymouth, and in the Puritans of Massachusetts, and he fondly hoped that many of them would emigrate to his new West Indian dominions, and there sow the fields with the "good seed of the kingdom." But disappointment followed his hopes. The American Colonists would not remove. Some of the best agents sent over to superintend the plantation died, chief amongst whom were Governors Fortescue, Sedgwick, and Brayne.

Earnest piety, dashed with eccentricities of Puritan expression, conspicuously appears in the letters and in the conduct of these Colonial Governors under the Commonwealth.[528] They were men of religious zeal, and of political sagacity, and they certainly deserve honourable remembrance, although their enterprise proved unsuccessful; a circumstance, indeed, which arose not from any fault of theirs, but entirely from the unconquerable difficulties connected with their position. The letters of D'Oyley, who succeeded these earlier governors—himself a highly respectable officer with Royalist tendencies—bear witness to their discouragements and to his own also. Brayne followed D'Oyley in office, and died a victim to the fatal climate.[529]

The history of Maryland, under the Commonwealth, is full of the records of strife for lordship. The Commis[478]sion of 1651 for reducing disaffected Colonial dependencies did not specify that maritime State; but the Commissioners managed to include it within the range of their instructions, by unwarrantably stretching the expression, "all the plantations within the Bay of Chesapeake." The agents and friends of Lord Baltimore at first resisted this intrusion, but they were at last obliged to submit to a compromise. Afterwards, rallying their strength, they re-asserted their earlier rights, and displaced the new authorities; but these again, in their turn, overcame the old government, and reinstated themselves in their former position. Religious animosities were at the bottom of this quarrel; the Puritans not being able to endure having a Roman Catholic at the head of the community, and the Roman Catholics trembling at the idea of being left to the mercy of Puritans.[530] After the Colony, under Lord Baltimore, had enjoyed an amount of toleration unparalleled in those days of intense party feeling, it becomes a question of great interest, what was the course pursued by his opponents, when for a while they held the reins of government which they had snatched out of his hands? The answer is, that they made a law denying to such as exercised the Popish form of worship all civil protection, they also proscribed all Prelacy and Antinomianism, and resolved that, besides such as professed the Presbyterian religion, which had been established in England, none should be protected except those who avowed faith in God by Jesus Christ, and did not abuse their freedom by injuring others. Such a law can be rightly understood only when it is studied in the light of previous history. Enough[479] has been said in former pages of this work to shew how deeply the Puritans feared lest they should be deprived of their civil rights by the restoration of Roman despotism—a fear which if not justified may be excused by the old maxim, "that a burnt child dreads the fire." The toleration, indeed, vouchsafed in Maryland ought to have taught another lesson, but the idea remained unconquerable that such toleration as had been there conceded only served the purpose of protecting Popery for a time, in order that it might in the end throw off its cunning mask, and devour those very liberties to which it had been indebted for existence.[531]

Uncertainty was felt or pretended as to the wishes of the Protector in reference to the subject so keenly agitated in the State of Maryland. But upon his hearing a report to that effect, and upon his being informed that it was said he wished a stop to be put to the proceedings of the Commissioners who were authorized to settle the civil government, he distinctly stated that such was not his intention. Of their interference with the secular business of the colony he fully approved, but of their interference with spiritual matters, it would appear that he had formed a different judgment; for in an earlier communication to the same Commissioners he had commanded them to confine their attention to temporal affairs, and "not to busy themselves about religion."[532] In this instance, as in others, Cromwell shewed a disposition to leave people to themselves in[480] what concerned their consciences, provided only that they remained loyal to his political rule. We have said that the Prayer Book continued to be used in Virginia; and so long as Maryland remained quiet under the Protectorate, his Highness was not anxious to disturb either Prelatist or Papist. Whilst careful not to displease his own political partizans, he at the same time indicated no sympathy with the opposition which was made to Lord Baltimore; and, although he was strongly urged to annul altogether the patent and privileges of that excellent nobleman, he still allowed him to persevere in pressing his claims, and even permitted him to appoint his own Lieutenant.[533]

Beyond these particulars relative to religion in the Western Colonies, space remains only for a word respecting the other hemisphere. The first East Indian charter had been granted by Queen Elizabeth, and soon after the date of that charter the first English factory had been established at Surat. In the year 1649, Edward Terry—who had attended Sir Thomas Roe, as chaplain, on his embassy to the Mogul—preached what might be called a missionary sermon in the church of St. Andrew Undershaft, before the Governor and Company of the Merchant Traders to India; and in that sermon he strongly urged them to commend Christianity by a holy life; and he took care also faithfully to rebuke the gross inconsistencies of English Christians in Oriental countries, which, as he observed, often provoked natives to exclaim, "Christian religion, devil religion—Christian much[481] drunk—much rogue—much naught." Dr. Edward Reynolds also preached in the same church, before the same company, in the year 1657, taking for his text Nehemiah xiii. 31; shewing, as Evelyn notices in his "Diary,"[534] "by the example of Nehemiah, all the perfections of a trusty person in public affairs, with many good precepts, apposite to the occasion, ending with a prayer for God's blessing on the Company and the undertaking."

Another body of traders, called the Levant Company, were certainly left free to pursue their own course with respect to religion.[535] Through the endeavours of Pocock, and other Episcopalian clergymen, the Company had aimed to extend Christianity in the countries where they trafficked; and in the year 1654 they sent Robert Frampton—a distinguished Episcopal minister—to Aleppo, who remained for sixteen years in charge of the spiritual welfare of the factory in that place. On his return to England he became first Dean, and then Bishop of Gloucester, and he is found amongst the non-jurors at the period of the Revolution. On the other hand a Presbyterian minister, who had been appointed chaplain at Smyrna, found no favour with the merchants of that ancient port; in vain he produced his bale of Westminster catechisms, and he fruitlessly endeavoured to establish amongst the English residents the Westminster Confession Directory and Discipline.[536]

This review of ecclesiastical affairs proves very clearly the large measure of independence which in that respect was conceded to the Colonies, under the government of Cromwell. The prohibition of the use of the Book of Common Prayer emanated from the home authorities[482] before he became seated in the Protectoral chair, and there is no evidence of any zeal on his part in enforcing the ordinance, or of any disposition to adopt a persecuting policy towards his Colonial subjects. On the contrary, his connivance at Episcopalian worship in Virginia, and his conduct with reference to Maryland and Lord Baltimore, indicate a spirit of toleration and a breadth of view with regard to religious liberty,—where the stability and civil order of society were not placed in jeopardy—such as are in harmony with his habitual professions and his well-known character, and such also as probably would have been more fully exemplified in England, had not the exemplification been prevented by the political disaffection of religious parties.

CHAPTER XVII.

Leaving the Colonies, the reader's attention will now be directed to other relations of a religious nature—relations which the Lord Protector entered into with some of the Churches on the Continent, and which, in reference to those Churches, he sustained towards different European powers.

In approaching the subject we meet with a singular individual, whose activity prepared for negotiations respecting spiritual matters which were carried on with foreign States through the Commonwealth ambassadors. A few notices of his early history are necessary for a clear understanding of what he did in connection with the events about to be described.

John Durie was a Scotch Presbyterian, whose father—banished for opposing King James the Sixth of Scotland and his Bishops—went over to the city of Leyden, and there laboured as pastor of a Church consisting of British refugees. The son, who had been educated at Oxford, settled for a while at Elbing, in Prussia, just after Gustavus Adolphus had won that city from the Poles; and it happened that whilst he was residing there, he received from Casper Godeman, the Swedish[484] Jurist, suggestions respecting a scheme of Protestant union, to which he devoted the greatest part of his life. As early as the month of April, 1633, we find him writing from Frankfort to Sir Thomas Roe—a distinguished person who was sent as ambassador to several Courts—informing him that the Swedish Chancellor, Oxenstiern, was strongly in favour of a close union between the Lutheran and Reformed Churches; and, at the same period, we discover Roe, who was then in London, corresponding with Oxenstiern, and commending such an union as of the highest importance to the interests of Germany. Hope, however, soon began to waver in the breast of the Scotch minister with regard to the Chancellor's steady pursuit of the object; on account, as he said, of "political ends and respects." Yet, in the winter of 1633, the former rejoiced in the favourable impression which his great project had produced upon the mind of Secretary Coke, and in the expectation which had been awakened of his obtaining assistance even from so influential a personage as Archbishop Laud, through Secretary Windebank. Durie succeeded in gaining access to the Prelate, and had also correspondence with him upon the subject of a Protestant union. Although it appeared that political interests came in the way of the full success which this warm advocate so much desired, yet he expressed it as his decided opinion, that his Grace of Canterbury was well affected towards the cause.[537] Like other penniless men, John Durie laboured in his[485] self-chosen vocation at a great disadvantage, and was constrained to mix up petitions for personal assistance with appeals on behalf of his cause; but it ought to be remembered that his whole life proved the latter to be dearer to him far than any pecuniary interest whatever. The young Ambassador Oxenstiern, son of the great Chancellor, on his reaching London in March, 1634, encouraged Durie to return to Germany, where he would find that the state of affairs promised more than ever a favourable issue; at the same time assuring him also, that his father had no greater desire than to see this work of Christian charity and brotherhood perfectly accomplished. There can be no doubt that Durie's own desires were more sincere and earnest than the Chancellor's; of this he gave proof in the honest enthusiasm with which he declared to Sir Thomas Roe, that if not prohibited he would persevere; and, to use his own words, where he could not ride he would go afoot, and when he could not walk he would creep on all fours rather than not proceed. It was so grievous, he added, to see such an enterprise as his so little cherished, and he was led to suspect that a main hindrance to a prosperous result would be the complication of spiritual with political affairs.[538]

Strange as it may appear to some readers, Laud himself wrote to Roe upon the subject, and told him that he had prepared letters to both Lutherans and Calvinists, so far as it was in "any ways fit;" and that he wished Durie's labours might be crowned with a happy success. If a public act, he proceeded to observe, could be gained at the Frankfort meeting, for a reconciliation between the Churches, he thought that a footing might be thereby secured for further proceedings; but until that[486] preliminary was accomplished he could not discern much hope. He also informed him, that although the King highly approved of the object, his Majesty could not publicly take part in the negotiations; that, as to himself, he could assure him that though he was at Court, yet he was almost as far from being able to render assistance, as was Sir Thomas Roe—inasmuch as business of this description was handled by a foreign committee, of which he did not happen to be a member.[539]

Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, took an interest in this "treaty of the ecclesiastical peace," as Sir Thomas Roe termed it; and, in a letter to that illustrious lady, he spoke of Durie as an excellent man, whom God had "raised up to be an instrument of the greatest treaty of the age." Roe felt persuaded he should see the purpose accomplished, if, as he remarks, "it fall not by us who should most affect both the benefit and honour." Whilst Roe was writing to the Queen, Durie was writing to Roe, full of anxiety as to whether he could start equipped with such authority as he sought from princes and prelates, or "proceed in a private way;" also as to the manner in which the Hollanders, "the stiffest of all," were likely to behave; and further as to the mode in which he should proceed with the Churches of the Low Countries, because the business trenched upon their domestic controversies. The French and Swiss, he believed, were well disposed, and if he himself could but subsist in ever so mean a way, but for a year or two, his heart told him that the seed which he was sowing would spring up, although no sunshine should fall, nor any shower from England should rain upon it.[540]

Episcopal patronage and the diplomacy of statesmen[487] effected nothing for this sanguine Apostle of union. He was left single-handed to plead the cause, as best he could, at the Evangelical Congress of Frankfort, in the year 1634, having been allowed by Sir Robert Anstruther to travel thither with him in his coach—Durie's man being "shifted sometimes in the baggage waggons, and sometimes afoot, and sometimes in the second coach." As lodgings were dear during the Diet, the good man's chamber cost him nine shillings a week, and he had "to put himself in some fashion for clothes."[541]

In the same year, Durie published his "Aliquot Theologorum Galliæ, et trium ecclesiæ Anglicanæ Episcoporum, sententia de pacis rationibus inter Evangelicos usurpandis." Davenant, Morton, and Hale, were the three Bishops referred to in the book. Other Latin treatises, on the same absorbing theme, from the same pen, followed, but without effect. The Churches of Transylvania, indeed, sent their advice and counsel; and the Divines of Sweden and Denmark listened to what the Scotchman had to say; but after all this correspondence, and after a consultation with Universities to boot, this indefatigable minister, was as far from realizing his dreams of union when Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector, as when he waited at the doors of Lambeth Palace upon Archbishop Laud.

A sweeping method of promoting the Protestant Alliance was recommended by a correspondent of John Milton—which there can be no doubt would have been found quite as inoperative for the accomplishment of the end in view as the official position and influence at which it ill-naturedly sneers. "Mr. Durie," said the writer, "has bestowed about thirty years' time in[488] travel, conference, and writings, to reconcile Calvinists and Lutherans, and that with little or no success. But the shortest way were—take away ecclesiastical dignities, honours, and preferments on both sides, and all would soon be hushed; the ecclesiastics would be quiet, and then the people would come forth into truth and liberty."[542]

Civil establishments of Christianity have doubtless greatly complicated such difficulties as exist in the way both of international and domestic religious union; but the deepest and most lasting source of difficulty is to be found lower down than any ecclesiastical organizations, even in human nature itself, in its blended good and evil—on the one hand, in its mistaken but honest conscientiousness, and on the other, in its selfishness, prejudice, and pride. When much ecclesiastical wealth had been confiscated, and all ecclesiastical dignities had disappeared in England, the great Protestant Alliance, floating before Durie's imagination, approached no nearer its realization than it had done before. Real Christian union can never be reached through any diplomacy of that kind, nor even through persistent endeavours such as those of the zealous individual whom we have described. It must come as the unforced result amongst sects and parties of a divine temper, such as we have never yet seen, and which we find it not in human power to command. We can but intercede that God would inspire it through His own good Spirit.

Cromwell was, perhaps, as desirous of active fellowship between Protestant Churches as was Durie; and the latter, with such a powerful person to countenance his mission, might well imagine himself within sight of the[489] port towards which he had been steering for so many years. Thurloe, Secretary of State, and Dr. John Pell, who was the Protector's minister abroad, entered largely into the plans of this enthusiastic individual, the latter of the two being engaged in performing important missions to foreign Protestants, especially the Swiss.[543]

After repeated discouragements the ecclesiastical diplomatist returned to England, and found, to his great joy, the Protector most gracious, and the Parliament most friendly. He forwarded to Pell a resolution of the House, that his Highness "would be pleased to encourage Christian endeavours for assisting the Protestant Churches abroad"—a few kind words which Durie fondly hoped would "open a door for action." His hands might appear to be strengthened by this vote; yet he still went on spending his strength for naught. It is needless to follow him any further through his fruitless negotiations, except to state, that without "bating one jot of heart or hope," he still pressed onward; and when Cromwell's death, and the Restoration of Charles had left him without any aid from the English Government, this man of unquenchable ardour published another book on his favourite theme. Fourteen more years of Sisyphus-like labour did, indeed, dishearten him in the attempt to draw together the Lutheran and the Reformed Churches, only however, to inspire him with the resolve to attempt union upon a still larger scale; and at the same time he sought, amidst his disappointments, consolation in the study of the Apocalypse, a part of Scripture which, in his view, satisfactorily explained his want of success, its cause and its remedy. This singular person, so[490] generous in purpose, and so persistent in toil, ended his days in Germany.[544]

John Durie's name is further connected with the earliest intelligence conveyed to England, respecting the persecutions of the Piedmontese Protestants by the Duke of Savoy. On the 24th of February, 1655, he wrote from the pleasantly-situated town of Aarau, in Switzerland, to Mr. Pell, informing him that the Lords of Zurich had been entreating help on behalf of their brethren in Piedmont, who were now commanded either to go to mass, or to leave their native hills.[545] Just one month before this letter was written, an edict had been issued to that effect, in consequence of tumults which had disturbed the peaceful valleys, and which had arisen out of the propagandist labours of certain Capuchin friars. The zeal of the proselyting Roman Catholic had come into collision with the zeal of the primitive Vaudois. Assassinations and abductions had been added to arguments on the one side; natural indignation against such violence had arisen on the other. Savoyard troops troubled and oppressed the peasantry; the peasantry resisted the Savoyard troops; war was blazing in the green glens under the snowy hills. Then came the edict of expatriation, terrible as death to those mountaineers, who clung to the land of their fathers' sepulchres as fondly and closely as the pine trees cling to the rocks on which they grow. Totally unprepared for travelling, the peasantry received orders to depart from their native country within the space of twenty days. They were now obliged to desert their village homesteads, and make rude encampments upon heights in the neighbour[491]hood. On the 21st of April, the sufferers wrote to the French ambassador, declaring that they were, at last, forced to take up arms in self-defence, against enemies who came to burn their houses; that never had they entertained an idea of rebelling against their royal master, the Duke of Savoy; nay, that they were ready to change their weapons "into mattocks" if he would but place them in their former condition. They referred to Roman Catholics in the vicinity as witnesses of their wrongs. They challenged investigation. They begged for mediators. They would leave all in their hands.[546] On the very day these brave and pious people thus appealed to France, Pell, in the city of Geneva, was watching the movements of Savoy, and he intimated to Secretary Thurloe that a massacre was in the wind—that the Duke took counsel from those who, under the pretence of propagating Christian faith, minded nothing so much as the advancement of the Pope's interest. Before he sealed his letter, the diplomatist added, that the Canton of Berne had sent to the Lords of Zurich, to signify that the Duke with his army was certainly descending upon the poor Protestants, so that it would be a wonder if they were not utterly destroyed before any one could come to their help. Direct intelligence of the horrid cruelties perpetrated upon the Vaudois was dispatched by Pell to Thurloe the last day of April; and upon the 8th of May following, Thurloe thus wrote to Pell:—"I do assure you it is a matter which his Highness lays very much to heart, and will rejoice to hear that other Protestants do think themselves concerned in it also. And I do not doubt but you and Mr. Durie will also contribute your utmost endeavours to make the Protestants[492] in those parts sensible of this horrid action, and to get a true measure of their intentions about it, and to certify them hither by the first opportunity."[547]

The lion was roused; and from Cromwell's Council Chamber there went forth in that month of May such letters to foreign powers as have been rarely read—being filled with Cromwell's decision and Milton's eloquence, and with the Protestant anger which was fiercely burning in the hearts of both. Religion, and hatred of the hellish wrongs committed in its name, then stirred the government of England, and lifted her foreign diplomacy into a region far loftier than that which comes within the range of vulgar and selfish politics. Despatches—which, for their spirit, argument, and language an Englishman may be proud to read—were sent to Louis XIV., to the Duke of Savoy, to the Prince of Transylvania, to Gustavus Adolphus, to the United States of Holland, to the evangelic cities of Switzerland, to the King of Denmark, and to the Consul and Senators of Geneva. All these letters may be found in Milton's prose works; and let not the unmistakeable threat of something beyond words of indignation be overlooked in these missives. The threat did more than anything else to stop the bloodshed, and prevent its recurrence; only the wily power of France played its part of mediatorship so quickly and so cunningly, as to settle the business upon terms far less just than the Lord Protector would have exacted, had the winding up of the affair fallen into his vigorous hands.

Cromwell dispatched Sir Samuel Morland as ambassador to the Duke of Savoy, and put in his possession the following speech, prepared by the same pen as that[493] which wrote those magnificent letters:—"My most serene master, Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland, has sent me to your Royal Highness, to whom he bids all health, life, and a long and prosperous reign, which he trusts you may enjoy, amid the greetings and good wishes of a hearty and well-affected people. He is encouraged to hope this by merits of your own—regarding the noble disposition of your Royal Highness—your birth, the high expectation formed of you, no less than the old historical amity existing between the old Kings of this realm and the House of Savoy, which he calls to mind. My most serene and good master it has pleased, to send me on a mission of importance, though I am but a youth, unripe and unpractised, yet devoted to your Royal Highness, and a hearty friend to the interests of Italy. King Crœsus, according to the old story, had a son who was born dumb, yet he, the moment he saw a soldier aiming a wound at his father, recovered his tongue. Even so it is with me. My tongue this day is unloosed by those cruel wounds dealt at our mother, the Church—unloosed to plead a cause on which the safety and all the hopes of many turn, trusting, as they do, by loyalty, obedience, and lowliest prayers, to pacify the heart of your Royal Highness, now turned against them. In the cause of these distressed people—if even pity may improve their plight—his Highness, the Protector of England, comes forward as a suitor, and earnestly prays and beseeches your Royal Highness to vouchsafe to grant mercy to these poor and exiled subjects, who, dwelling at the roots of the Alps, in certain vales under your rule, have given their name to the religion of Protestants. He has heard a fact—no one will dare to say it was done by consent of your Royal Highness—that these wretched people have been,[494] some of them, cruelly slaughtered by your troops—some of them driven out by force, thrust out from their dwelling-place and country, homeless, houseless, penniless, utterly destitute, have gone over rough and inhospitable tracts, over hills heaped high with snow—gone as vagrants with their wives and children. If there be any truth in the report everywhere heard—would, indeed, it were a false report!—what deed of horror was not done, or unattempted in those days. Everywhere was the sight of smoking houses, mutilated limbs, and the earth reeking with blood, nay, maidens expired in wretched agony, after being atrociously violated—even the aged and the sick were burnt with fire, infants were dashed on the rocks, and the brains of others cooked and eaten,—horrible wickedness, and unheard of before cruelty. O good God! such as the heroes of all times and ages, if they were to come to life this very day, would have been ashamed of, seeing that they had never invented aught so inhuman. Nay, even angels shudder, mortals are amazed, the very heaven itself seems astonished at these outcries, and the earth blushes at the blood of so many innocent persons overspreading it. Do not thou, O God, Most High!—do not thou require the vengeance due to this deed! Wash out, O Christ! with Thy blood this stain. Nay, I will not tell them in order, nor dwell longer on these details; and what my serene master asks, you will better learn from his letters."[548]

Several ministers of the City of London waited upon the Protector to solicit his sympathy and assistance on behalf of the sufferers, for which request he thanked[495] them, and declared that he was extremely shocked at the tidings which he had received. He afterwards assured the Dutch ambassador that he was moved to his very soul by all he had heard—that he was ready to venture his all for the protection of Protestantism—that in this cause he would swim or perish—and that the example of Ireland was fresh in his memory, where he said 200,000 souls had been inhumanly massacred.[549]

By the end of June, 1655, collections were on foot throughout England; and even the French ambassador was not exempted from contributing to the fund, although, he says, he had as much need of charity as the Piedmontese. A few days later, the same gentleman wrote home declaring, that the gatherings amounted to a vast sum, for everybody gave something, to seem charitable, and the ministers "played their parts to some purpose to stir the people up to assist their persecuted brethren."[550] How the clergy in Genevan cloaks, with hour-glasses by their side, thundered forth anathemas against Rome, and appealed to the hearts and purses of their crowded congregations in those summer weeks, can be readily imagined; and that the appeals were followed by great success the Dutch ambassador indicates when, writing to the States General on the 16th of July, he says: "Several persons have assured me that the collection doth amount to above £100,000."[551]

A committee was formed by order of his Highness and the Council, to superintend the business involved in this enterprise of beneficence, and the members of that committee appear to have diligently discharged their duties; for they collected information respecting the[496] whole subject, they corresponded with the sufferers, they consulted as to the best methods of relief, and they bestowed much time and thought upon the appropriation of the money, minute accounts of it being kept, and carefully audited from time to time.[552] In the month of June we find them resolving to prepare a narrative of events, to be accompanied by letters patent for making collections through the medium of ministers and churchwardens, both publicly and from house to house,—each contributor being requested to write down his name with the amount of his donation, and each parish to return an accurate schedule of subscriptions. When some of the money had been distributed to meet immediate necessities, the committee further resolved in the following January to request his Highness to take into consideration how the poor Piedmontese Protestants were to be provided for in the future—because the residue of the money raised would be in time exhausted, and then they would be left in a lingering condition, if their security and their subsistence were not provided for in some other way. A paper, laid before them by Morland the same month, suggested—forasmuch as letters from Geneva and other places recently received, had informed them of the roads to the valleys being stopped up by an abundance of snow, and as, in all probability, the inhabitants were in great extremities, and the remittances last sent were exhausted—that his Highness and the Council would be graciously pleased to consider what sum should be forwarded for their relief. In a letter from Geneva, dated the 14th of February, 1657, it is related—"our poor people are in extreme necessity, the greatest part of our families[497] being destitute of houses, movables, cattle, or anything else whereby to subsist. For although there was lately a considerable distribution made, yet the greatest part of our people were more indebted than their portion amounted to, for bread and other sustenance, which they had been forced to take upon trust before, to preserve themselves from perishing with hunger. If you did but know, sirs, the greatness of our miseries, you would certainly have compassion on us, and pity our sad condition. God is now in good earnest chastising us for our sins and iniquities, to which we most willingly submit, kissing the rod, and confessing that He is still just and righteous."

Under date June the 5th, 1657, there exists a document signed by the Protector (with a trembling hand) recommending that the widow of one of the Vaudois, who had been put to death in the massacre, should receive an exhibition of £100, and such further sum as "will release her son out of prison and be a little help to her present support." Probably to the same year belongs another paper, in which war is anticipated between the Protestant cantons and their Popish enemies. It contains proposals to aid the belligerents by means of the remainder of the funds which had been collected two years before. "This just and seasonable way of the disposal of these moneys will yet more fully appear if it be considered, that a good part thereof hath been already sent for the relief of the present necessities of the Waldenses, and that the portion intended for the succour of the Protestant cantons is only to be lent to them upon very good security, to be repaid, for the use of those to whom it was given—there being likewise a very considerable sum still remaining in readiness for them, as their urgent pressures shall require, and they be able to receive it. To all which we may add the[498] necessity of this proceeding in regard to that sum, the late collection—such great alterations have happened both by the wars amongst the cantons, and that unhappy compliance of the Waldenses with the Duke of Savoy (formerly related), as that a great part of the money collected will otherwise be as a dead stock in Guildhall; the loan of which for a little time may, by God's blessing, be a means to preserve both the Protestant cantons and also the distressed Waldenses for whom the collection was made."[553]

The pacification which had taken place in the month of August, 1655, putting a stop to the outrages upon the Protestants, was, as to its terms, considered by Morland, the envoy, very unsatisfactory; for which terms he greatly blamed the Swiss ambassadors. He looked on such a peace as worse than the continuance of war, and mourned over the scandal that the sufferers should have been forced to confess themselves guilty of rebellion. Thurloe, representing the Government at home, sent out instructions to the minister to complain to the Bernese of the unfair conditions which they had sanctioned; to let them know it was everywhere amongst Protestants "laid to heart;" to attempt arresting the ratification of the treaty; and to "prosecute its amendment." Allusion occurs to "the sixty thousand pounds voluntarily gathered in England for the relief of these people;" and then the instructions end with the clause—"that the treaty between his Highness and the King of France is agreed, but that his Highness will not sign it until he have satisfaction in this business of Piedmont—and that as he hath caused a large contribution to be made for them, so that he[499] cannot nor will not desert them."[554] To write thus, however, was at that time too late, the Swiss States, through fear of France, having already agreed to the ratification.

Three years afterwards, Cromwell, upon learning that the treaty had been violated, and apprehending the occurrence of fresh massacres, wrote once more to Louis XIV. In a letter dated May, 1658:—"New Levies," he said, "are privately preparing against 'em, and all that embrace the Protestant Religion are commanded to depart by a prefix'd day; so that all things seem to threaten the utter extermination of those deplorable wretches whom the former massacre spar'd. Which I most earnestly beseech and conjure ye, most Christian King, by that RIGHT HAND which sign'd the League and Friendship between us, by that same goodly ornament of your Title of MOST CHRISTIAN, by no means to suffer, nor to permit such liberty of Rage and Fury, uncontroul'd we will not say, in any Prince (for certainly such barbarous severity could never enter the breast of any Prince, much less so tender in years, nor into the female Thoughts of his mother), but in those sanctify'd cut-throats who, pro[500]fessing themselves to be the Servants and Disciples of our Saviour Christ, who came into this World to save Sinners, abuse His meek and peaceful name and precepts to the most cruel slaughter of the Innocent. Rescue, you that are able in your tow'ring Station, worthy to be able, rescue so many Suppliants prostrate at your feet, from the hands of Ruffians who, lately drunk with Blood, again thirst after it, and think it their safest way to throw the Odium of their Cruelty upon Princes. But as for you, great Prince, suffer not, while you reign, your Titles, nor the Confines of your Kingdom, to be contaminated with this same Heaven-offering Scandal, nor the peaceful Gospel of Christ to be defil'd with such abominable Cruelty."[555]

Whether prevented by Cromwell's remonstrance or not, the horrors anticipated did not occur; although, after the Protector's death, and the restoration of Charles II., the unhappy Vaudois were again plunged into the miseries of war. The letter just quoted ends Milton's immortal correspondence on the subject—a correspondence which moves with admiration the depth of one's soul: whenever since that time has the Protestantism of England burnt with such a vivid and steady light in the midst of her foreign diplomacy?

Nor were the Piedmontese the only foreign Protestants who excited sympathy in the breast of the Protector, and amongst the reformed Churches of England. Brethren in Poland and Silesia had suffered exile for their faith; and, on their behalf, as in the case of the Vaudois, collections were promptly ordered to be made. The same thing was effected in the case of the persecuted[501] Bohemians. A committee was appointed in this instance, as in the former one, and a declaration was drawn up touching the condition of the Polish Protestants. "If a cup of cold water," says that document, "given to one disciple as such, shall not lose its reward, how much more when a bountiful relief is given to more than five thousand disciples; which we should be the more forward to advance, because they acknowledge they have received much confirmation in the religion for which they suffer by light received from our countryman, John Wicklif, that famous witness of Christ against Antichrist, even in the darkest times of Popery." A letter, by John Durie, begged an extension of charity to other suffering Protestants in Germany; and another letter, by Morland, stated:—"There are above five thousand left whom God hath snatched out of their cruel rage, wandering miserable, naked, and, indeed, reduced unto plain beggary. There remains no refuge for them but in God, and those who in God's stead do watch for the good of the Church."

Upon its being represented that the Papists had burned Bibles printed in the Bohemian and Polonese languages, and that the exiled Protestants were in great want of the Scriptures, it was ordered that out of the fund collected for the relief of the sufferers, the sum of £1,000 should be paid to procure for them copies of the Word of God. In another document amongst the papers of the Committee, it is said:—"The poor exiled Churches are in great want of this spiritual food, as of their daily bread, and desire rather to take something from their mouths to supply the necessity of their souls." The Committee was resolved that the cause of these sufferers should be commended to the King of Sweden, to be remembered in[502] any treaty of peace between him and the King of Poland.[556]

The French Protestants were indebted to Cromwell for effectual protection when they were exposed to imminent danger. Some of them, who were citizens of Nismes in Languedoc, had, amidst the excitement of a municipal election, been betrayed into acts of very great violence, and had even assailed their opponents with a volley of musket shot, upon which the French Government despatched a party of troops to take vengeance upon the offenders. The successors of the Huguenots in that ancient city, justly fearing, that as chastisement had been entrusted to the hands of the soldiers, the innocent would be liable to suffer with the guilty, despatched a representative to Cromwell to request his intercession on their behalf. The Protector gave him an audience immediately upon his arrival, and invited him to "refresh himself after so long a journey, and he would take such care of his business that by the time he came to Paris he should find it despatched." That very night he sent a messenger to his ambassador Lockhart, with a despatch commanding him to secure mercy on behalf of the Protestant citizens of Nismes, or take his departure from the French Court. Mazarin complained of this as being[503] too imperious, but confessed that he could not help himself in the matter; and orders were forthwith sent to arrest the march of the troops. "So that nobody," remarks Clarendon who relates this incident, can wonder that Cromwell's "memory remains still in those parts, and with those people, in great veneration." In other ways also the Protector made the Cardinal feel and acknowledge his great power. For, as his Eminence told Madame Turenne, "he knew not how to behave himself; if he advised the King to punish and suppress" the insolence of the Protestants, Cromwell "threatened him to join with the Spaniards, and if he shewed any favour to them, at Rome they accounted him a heretic."[557]

Nothing could surpass the zeal of Cromwell in the support of the Protestant interest at home and abroad. Burnet, on the authority of Stoupe,[558] informs us that he contemplated a sort of anti-propagandist society, to be conducted by seven councillors and four secretaries for four provinces. France, Switzerland, and the Valleys were to be the first; the Palatinate and other Calvinistic countries the second; Germany, the North, and Turkey, the third; and the East and West Indies the fourth. The secretaries were to maintain a correspondence throughout the world so as to watch and promote the spread of Protestantism everywhere. They were to be paid salaries of £500 a year each, and to have at their disposal a fund of £10,000 for ordinary contingencies. Chelsea College, then an old[504] and decayed building, was constituted the head quarters of this mission; and thus, as it was said, those premises were restored to something like the very purpose in reference to which Laud had nicknamed the place "Controversy College"—whilst "the Papists, in derision, gave it the name of an alehouse."[559]

The condition of the Jews received attention from the Protector principally with regard to their social status in England. Cromwell wished to concede to them liberty of trade and of worship, and to grant them both synagogues and cemeteries; but prejudice against the people of Israel, which had been nursed throughout the middle ages, and had not yet expired, proved too strong even for the iron will of England's ruler to overcome. The inveterate intolerance which down to our day excluded them from a full share in political rights, then resisted even their moderate claims to a home, a house of prayer, and a grave on British soil. Not only the narrow-minded Mr. Prynne, but even Durie—with all his zeal for union amongst Protestants, as fellow-religionists—contended earnestly against the participation of the Jews in the social rights which were enjoyed by Christians. Men of that class contended that to tolerate Israelites was a sin; that they would seduce the English people; that their possession of religious freedom would be a scandal to Christian Churches; that their customs were unlawful; and that association with them would prove injurious to morals and mischievous to trade. It was all in vain to answer, as did certain Divines—who were themselves by no means free from[505] popular prejudice—that no civil or ecclesiastical authority was intended to be conferred upon the Jews; that they would not be allowed to defame the Christian religion, or work on the Christian Sabbath, or have Christian servants; that they would not be allowed to discourage efforts for their conversion; and that penalties would be inflicted on any person who might apostatize from Christianity to Judaism. The ground of defence thus laid for the scanty toleration which was proposed indicates what erroneous ideas existed, even under the Commonwealth, as to the fundamental principles of civil and religious liberty.[560] But Cromwell, though not perceiving all which the subsequent teaching of Divine Providence has made known to us, saw much further than many of his contemporaries who in theological matters were more learned than himself. Guided by the instinct of genius, and moved by the impulse of charity, he was prepared to allow, even to the hated sons of Jacob, the rights of industry and worship; and doing so, this great man aroused unfair suspicions on the part of people who ought to have known better.[561] A feeling of interest respecting the children of Israel appeared in other quarters, and certain individuals, with no mere proselyting zeal, watched the movements of God's ancient nation, and longed to witness its conversion to the faith of Jesus Christ.[562]

CHAPTER XVIII.

The History which we are tracing in these pages resolves itself into a grand epic without any literary skill on the part of the historian. Commencing, as it does, with the opening of the Long Parliament, and ending with the death of Oliver Cromwell—it exhibits the Episcopal Church of England in the midst of its ancient grandeur on the very eve of its downfall; it indicates the causes of that catastrophe; it describes a new ecclesiastical system, which was immediately contrived to occupy the place of its predecessor; and it then unfolds another and a very simple scheme of religious instruction which was established, and superseded, in fact, the elaborate theory of the Westminster Divines. Soon after the opening of our story one character appeared, destined before long to be the commanding figure on the stage of events. Although Cromwell had only taken part with many others in effecting the overthrow of the Anglican Establishment, he, perhaps, of all the actors in those stirring times, most effectually contributed to prevent the full practical development of the Presbyterian polity in England; and most certainly[507] to his genius and determination we must attribute the origin and defence of that unique ecclesiastical system which, during the Protectorate, constituted the Church of England.[563] Really the moral offspring of a revolution which overthrew despotic power, and asserted the right of man to freedom, Oliver was the most absolute ruler which this country ever saw; and in this respect it is obvious and easy to run a parallel between him and the first, if not the second, Napoleon. The cause of such a political phenomenon has been indicated. It is no strange thing. The world has witnessed it over and over again. But, in Cromwell's case, there was what in the case of the first Napoleon there was not;—what alas! amongst the masters of mankind has ever been too rare—a deep, strong, invincible faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Not from policy, not as a piece of statecraft, but from a spiritual insight, and as a Christian duty—from love to the souls of men, and with a desire to advance the glory of God—did the Protector watch and foster, protect and promote, the interests of religion. As he was really the temporal head of that new Church, if such it may be termed; as he was the Defender of its Faith, as its existence was bound up with his authority, and as when he died its fate was sealed—the circumstances connected with the close of his eventful life, and the religious character of his last days, require to be related, in order that something approaching to completeness may be given[508] to this imperfect work. With the death of Cromwell we wind up our history for the present.

Hampton Court—which, with its manifold memories, has within the last few years become more familiar than ever to the people of this country—was the residence of his Highness in the month of July, 1658. In one of the chambers of Wolsey's Palace—of which palace three of the noblest courts were afterwards pulled down to make room for the buildings erected by William III.—the Lady Elizabeth Claypole, Cromwell's daughter, lay on her death-bed. As the rays of the summer sun, and the fragrance of the summer flowers, and the music of the summer birds entered the open window, Oliver watched with tender assiduity the declining health of his beloved child. For a fortnight he scarcely attended to public business; but day after day he sat bending over her dying pillow, engaged in earnest conversation with the sufferer, "though nobody was near enough to hear the particulars."[564] She expired on the 6th of August. Her father had himself been unwell for some days: although he enjoyed a strong constitution, the wear and tear of war and toil had left their impression, and amidst the suspense and anxiety of parental love—and only those who have actually, like Cromwell, passed through such circumstances, can fully understand their effect upon mind and body—some seeds of disease,[509] already sown, began to appear. He had an attack of gout, and, being impatient of restraint, he requested his physicians to subdue the local affection. Disease soon appeared in other parts of the system, and for some days the Protector's illness assumed an alarming appearance.[565]

Whilst remaining at Hampton Court, and only a few days after his daughter's death, "he called for his Bible,[566] and desired an honourable and godly person there (with others) present to read to him Philippians iv. 11-13:—'Not that I speak in respect of want, for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I am instructed, both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth me.' Which read, said he, to use his own words:[567]—'This Scripture did once save my life; when my eldest son died, which went as a dagger to my heart, indeed it did.' And then, repeating the words of the text himself, declared his then thoughts to this purpose, reading the tenth and eleventh verses of Paul's contentation, and submission to the will of[510] God in all conditions (said he), 'Tis true, Paul, you have learned this, and attained to this measure of grace; but what shall I do? Ah, poor creature, it is a hard lesson for me to take out! I find it so!' But reading on to the thirteenth verse, where Paul saith, 'I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me'—then faith began to work, and his heart to find support and comfort, and he said thus to himself: 'He that was Paul's Christ is my Christ too,' and so drew waters out of the wells of salvation, Christ in the Covenant of Grace."

It was about this time that the famous interview between Oliver Cromwell and George Fox took place. The Quaker had shortly before sent a letter to Lady Claypole, written in a very characteristic manner, and beautifully exhorting her to "stillness, staidness, and quietness,"—that she might "know the shadow of the Almighty, and sit under it, in all tempests and storms and heats," and that she might feel the power of an endless life, which brings the immortal soul up to the immortal God.[568] And now one day, Fox, taking boat on the Thames at Westminster, was rowed up to Kingston, and from thence he went to Hampton Court, to speak with the Protector touching the sufferings of Friends. "I met him," says the journalist, "riding into Hampton Court Park, and before I came to him, as he rode at the head of his Life Guard, I saw and felt a waft (or apparition) of death go forth against him, and when I came to him, he looked like a dead man. After I had laid the sufferings of Friends before him, and had warned him, according as I was moved to speak to him, he bid me come to his house. So I returned to Kingston, and the next day[511] went up to Hampton Court to speak further with him. But when I came he was sick, and Harvey, who was one that waited on him, told me the doctors were not willing I should speak with him. So I passed away, and never saw him more."[569]

Cromwell was unwilling to leave the old country palace, with its pleasant park and gardens, but on the day of Lady Claypole's funeral at Westminster Abbey—the 10th of August—he came to Whitehall, only, however, to return speedily to his favourite retreat. On the 21st he was seized with a severe fit of ague, after which, as Hampton Court Palace was, in the judgment of the physicians, too near the river for the recovery of their patient; he, following their advice, returned to the palace at Whitehall, intending to take up his abode at St. James's, that regal residence of the Stuarts being at a greater distance from the water.

No dangerous symptoms appeared for a week, but Secretary Thurloe felt much apprehension respecting the condition of his Highness, and observed, in a letter to the Lord Deputy of Ireland: "It cannot but greatly affect us all towards God, and make us deeply sensible how much our dependence is upon Him, in whose hands is the life and breath of this His old servant; and if He should take him away from amongst us, how terrible a blow it would be to all the good people of the land; and that, therefore, we should be careful how we walk towards God, lest we provoke Him to depart from us, and bring upon us this great evil. The people of[512] God here pray much for his recovery, and I hope those in Ireland will do the same, and to have his life spared and his strength restored by prayer, is a great addition to the mercy."[570]

Cromwell did not believe himself in danger; and even after he took to his bed, he said to his wife: "I shall not die this bout, I am sure of it." "Do not think," addressing the physicians, "I am mad, I speak the words of truth upon surer grounds than Galen or Hippocrates. God Almighty has given me that answer, not only to my prayers but to those who have closer intimacy with Him than I. Proceed cheerfully, banishing all sadness, and dealing with me as you would with a serving man. You may have skill in the things of nature, but nature can do more than physicians can, and God is above even nature itself."[571]

The Protector's hopes of recovery were unfounded. His enthusiastic idea of particular faith in prayer misled him; but a better faith, happily, mingled itself with his characteristic infirmity. He had no fear of death;[572] and there is no reason to believe that his mind had undergone any change respecting spiritual confidence in Christ, since he wrote the following lines, in the year 1652, to his son-in-law, General Fleetwood:—

"Salute your dear wife from me. Bid her beware of a bondage spirit. Fear is the natural issue of such a spirit—the antidote is love. The voice of fear is: If I[513] had done this, if I had avoided that, how well it had been with me! I know this hath been her vain reasoning; 'poor Biddy!'

"Love argueth in this wise: What a Christ have I; what a Father in and through Him! What a name hath my Father: Merciful, gracious, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and truth; forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin. What a nature hath my Father: He is love; free in it, unchangeable, infinite! What a covenant between Him and Christ—for all the seed, for every one; wherein He undertakes all, and the poor soul nothing. The new covenant is grace—to or upon the soul; to which it, 'the soul,' is passive and receptive: I'll do away their sins; I'll write my law, &c.; I'll put it in their hearts: they shall never depart from me, &c.

"This commends the love of God: it's Christ dying for men without strength, for men whilst sinners, whilst enemies. And shall we seek for the root of our comforts within us—what God hath done, what He is to us in Christ, 'this' is the root of our comfort: in this is stability; in us is weakness. Acts of obedience are not perfect, and therefore yield not perfect grace. Faith, as an act, yields it not; but 'only' as it carries us into Him, who is our perfect rest and peace; in whom we are accounted of, and received by, the Father—even as Christ Himself! This is our high calling. Rest we here, and here only."

Cromwell's habit of prayer was continued throughout his life; and upon this subject strong testimony is borne by the person to whom we are indebted for the only authentic narrative of his last days. "Indeed, prayer, (as one calls it,) was his daily exercise, which he never neglected, notwithstanding all his weighty affairs; yea, the more weighty and urgent[514] they were, the more he buckled to it, and sometimes with such fervour of spirit that he could not contain himself, but with great breakings of heart send up strong cries with tears unto God, heard when he hath not known any to be near him; so that it may be truly said of him, that, as he was a man (Abraham-like) strong in faith, so (like Jacob) mighty in prayer, and as a prince prevailing with God; such as, indeed, in all respects, this nation was never blest with to sit on the throne; however he was judged, and censured, and lightly set by, by many who were not sensible of our and their mercy, and who yet in time may be sensible (if God prevent not) of his remove, where his prayers are turned into everlasting praises."

Before Cromwell's illness, arrangements had been made for summoning, by State authority, an assembly in London of Congregational Elders. Scobell, clerk of the Council of State, issued a notice, in the month of June, to such Elders as were resident in the metropolis, to meet at the Charter House; and both his name and the name of Griffith, who acted as minister of that charitable foundation, appear in a correspondence upon the subject of the conference carried on with ministers of several Churches in England and Wales.[573] A political sanction was thus given to the assembly; indeed it was convened by the authority of the Government: and the result appeared in a published Declaration of Faith and Order by the convention of delegates, who met in the palace of the Savoy after the death of the Protector. That convention, and the important document which it produced, come not within the space of time presented by this volume, but the preparations for it do: and those[515] preparations, upon which very much obscurity rests, are connected with the final days and the last cares of Oliver's life. The desire for the meeting originated with the Independents, not with the Protector. He had shewn no favour towards a previous committee for defining theological boundaries of toleration; and he seems to have regarded with nothing like complacency, this new proposal for an authorized Synod of Congregational Divines to declare the principles of their faith and polity. Also there were persons about the Court who disliked it, from a fear lest it should separate more broadly than before, the Independents from the Presbyterians. His Highness, however, conceded the request for the sake of peace; and if he had lived to witness the issue, he would have found nothing in the Declaration, published by the ministers at the Savoy, to clash with those sentiments of catholic charity which were so dear to his heart. There might, however, be political intrigues in the background of this movement, for which the pastors of Churches were in no way responsible; and these might occasion anxiety to the dying ruler of England, who is reported to have said just before his death, to some who were opposed to the meeting and wished to prevent it, that its projectors must be satisfied,—"they must be satisfied, or we shall all run back into blood again."[574]

John Howe remained at Whitehall until after Cromwell's death, and his name appears amongst the chaplains who attended his funeral. No record, however, appears of his having been called to the bedside of the dying man—an omission which we lament, because the[516] combined wisdom and tenderness of that eminent Divine and Pastor, in case of his having had an opportunity of performing his Christian ministrations in those solemn moments, would have afforded a guarantee for faithfulness and affection, in any counsels which he might have offered. Stories are told to the discredit of the chaplains who were known to be in attendance. It is said that one of them, when asked by Cromwell, "if it were possible to fall from grace," replied, "it is not possible." "Then," said the sufferer, "I am safe, for I know that I was once in grace." To leave any one in the last hours of life open to such a delusion, as the bald reply attributed to this spiritual adviser might seem to encourage, would be without excuse; but the story rests on no sufficient foundation.[575]

Whatever common rumour might relate, the domestic letters and the dying words of Cromwell attest the[517] sincerity of his spiritual experience. It seems impossible that any human being could so successfully have worn the mask of hypocrisy in the privacies of life and in the moment of death. Of all hypotheses for explaining his character, the most monstrous is to set him down as playing the part of a wilful deceiver in his professions of religion. As if anticipating the uncharitable judgments of posterity, he had written to Fleetwood, in the year 1653: "I am in my temptation ready to say, 'Oh, that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest;' but this I fear is my 'haste.' I bless the Lord I have somewhat keeps me alive—some sparks of the light of His countenance; and some sincerity above man's judgment."[576] Nobody who has studied human nature can believe this passage to be a piece of clever affectation; he will rather pronounce it the unfeigned utterance of a thoughtful soul. And if ever an experience of the real Puritan type was luminously and honestly uttered, it was in the words which Oliver employed on his death-bed, according to a testimony on which we can rely.[577]

"The Covenants," said the dying man, "they were two—two, but put into one before the foundation of the world." "It is holy and true, it is holy and true, it is holy and true! Who made it holy and true? Who kept it holy and true? The Mediator of the Covenant." "The Covenant is but one. Faith in the Covenant is my only support, yet if I believe not, He abides faithful." Enquiries and ejaculations were caught up at intervals, "Is there none that will come and praise God." "Whatsoever sins thou hast, doest, or shalt commit, if you lay hold upon free grace, you are safe, but if you put yourself under a Covenant of works, you bring yourself under the[518] law, and so under the curse—then you are gone."[578] "Is there none that says, Who will deliver me from the peril?" "Man can do nothing, but God can do what He will." "Lord, Thou knowest, if I desire to live, it is to shew forth Thy praise, and declare Thy works. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." This was spoken three times, his repetitions usually being very weighty, and with great vehemency of spirit. "All the promises of God are in Him yea, and in Him, Amen; to the glory of God by us, by us in Jesus Christ." "The Lord hath filled me with as much assurance of His pardon, and His love, as my soul can hold." "I think I am the poorest wretch that lives; but I love God, or rather, am beloved of God." "Herein is love, not that we love God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." "I am a conqueror, and more than a conqueror, through Christ that strengthened me." "Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." "My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever." "And now, little children, abide in him; that, when he shall appear, we may have con[519]fidence, and not be ashamed before him at his coming. If ye know that he is righteous, ye know that every one that doeth righteousness is born of him." "Little children, let no man deceive you, he that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous." "My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth." "Little children, keep yourselves from idols." "Love not the world, I say unto you it is not good that you should love the world."[579] "Children, live like Christians, and I leave you the Covenant to feed upon." "Truly God is good; indeed He is, He will not—" There his speech failed him, but as I apprehended it was: "He will not leave me." This saying that God was good, he frequently used all along, and would speak it with much cheerfulness and fervour of spirit in the midst of his pains. Again, he said: "I would be willing to live to be further serviceable to God and His people; but my work is done. Yet God will be with His people." He was very restless most part of the night, speaking often to himself. And there being something to drink offered him, he was desired to take the same, and endeavour to sleep, unto which he answered: "It is not my design to drink or sleep; but my design is, to make what haste I can to be gone."[580] Afterwards, towards morning using divers holy expressions, implying much inward consolation and peace; among the rest he spake some exceeding self-debasing words, annihilating and judging himself. And truly it was observed, that a public spirit to God's cause did breathe in him (as in his life time) so now to the very last, which will further appear by that prayer he put up to God two or three days before his end, which was as followeth: "Lord, although I am a miserable and wretched creature,[520] I am in covenant with Thee through grace, and I may, I will, come to Thee, for Thy people. Thou hast made me (though very unworthy) a mean instrument to do them some good, and Thee service; and many of them have set too high a value upon me, though others wish and would be glad of my death; but, Lord, however Thou dost dispose of me, continue and go on to do good for them. Give them consistency of judgment, one heart, and mutual love: and go on to deliver them, and with the work of reformation; and make the name of Christ glorious in the world. Teach those who look too much upon Thy instruments, to depend more upon Thyself. Pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a poor worm, for they are Thy people too. And pardon the folly of this short prayer. Even for Jesus Christ's sake. And give us a good night, if it be Thy pleasure. Amen."[581]

Oliver died on the 3rd of September, "it having been to him," says the Court Newspaper announcing his death, "a day of triumphs and thanksgiving for the memorable victories of Dunbar and Worcester; a day which after so many strange revolutions of Providence, high contradictions, and wicked conspiracies of unreasonable men, he lived once again to see, and then to die, with great assurances and[521] serenity of mind, peaceably in his bed. Thus it hath proved to him to be a day of triumph indeed, there being much of Providence in it, that after so glorious crowns of victory placed on his head by God on this day, having neglected an earthly crown, he should now go to receive the crown of everlasting life."[582]

The passages we have cited have an interest beyond their bearing upon the Protector's character. They are specimens of the domestic and social piety of the age. Letters like his in tone and spirit, varying in intellectual conception and style of language, passed in those days by thousands over the rough roads of broad England in the pocket of some friendly traveller or in the postman's bag. So fathers and mothers, and parents and children, and brothers and sisters, wrote to one another, feeling every word they wrote—living under a deep apprehension of those higher bonds which unite souls to souls, families to families, Churches to Churches, and all to God and Christ. Hopes and fears, and joys and sorrows, such as the Protector expressed, although utterly unreal to multitudes of their neighbours, were experienced by many a man and woman in those times, and were to them as real as the everlasting hills or the unchanging stars.

The ruler, in mortal agony,[583] by his faith and prayers, presents a luminous contrast to another death-scene at Whitehall, a few years afterwards, when a different spirit[522] passed away amidst symbols of popish superstition, the accessories of an abandoned Court, and the memories of a sensual life. But, beyond that contrast, and apart from all circumstances of royal splendour; dismissing from our minds images of the quaint magnificence of the sick chamber in Whitehall, with its, perhaps, tapestried walls and bed of damask hangings, and the figures of generals, chaplains, and state servants, clustering round the form wasted by disease, and the countenance growing pale in death; putting aside, also, the memory of the marvellous career of the departing soldier and statesman of the Commonwealth—we meet in Cromwell's last words with an expression of the inmost soul of many a Puritan in such dark nights, doing battle with the last enemy. Nor, perhaps in the sorrows of his beloved family, and the sympathies of brother generals, and the intercessions of attached chaplains, was there more of religious affection than gathered about other pilgrims at that era, whilst at last they were laying down all life's heavy burdens at once and for ever. Such sentiments were often heard, such consolations were often imparted, and such prayers, whatever of infirmity there might be clinging to them, often went up to the throne of grace: but on account of Oliver's high position, and the vast interests which depended on his life, there would be in his case additional grounds for earnestness and the inspiration of a much[523] wider sympathy. Thurloe wrote to the Protector's son Henry, when all was over, "that never was there any man so prayed for as he was during sickness; solemn assemblies meeting every day to beseech the Lord for the continuance of his life, so that he is gone to heaven embalmed with the tears of his people and upon the wings of the prayers of the saints."[584] And in these impassioned supplications we can see even now the reflection of a devout temper then very common; and in the parish congregations, and the church gatherings of that day, may be recognized the interest felt in the life of one who was the pillar of their strength, and the shield of their freedom.

APPENDIX.

I.—Vol. I. 137.

Passages from Letters in the State Paper Office Respecting the Trial of the Earl of Strafford.

N. Tomkyns. April 12th, 1641.

"On Saturday morning the Earl of Strafford being come to Westminster Hall, and both Houses sitting in the presence of the King, the Commons desired they might enlarge their charge upon the 23rd Article, whereupon the Earl also desired he might enlarge his answer upon the 2nd, and 21st, and 23rd Articles;[585] the Lords retiring to their own House returned with this resolution, that they held it equal if the Commons added anything de novo, that the Earl should also have the like liberty. The Commons, not satisfied therewith, much pressed that they had formerly had a saving granted them, but the Earl had none. The Earl said he had humbly besought the Lords, (his judges,) that he might have the like saving, and he hoped it would be held reasonable, that if new objections were made, he should have permission to make new[525] answers to them, being for his life. Hereupon the Lords met again to consult in their own House with the judges, and after half an hour's stay returned, and the Earl Marshal delivered their opinion to be the same that before it was; that if the Commons should enforce their charge in any point or bring any new matter (though for the King) the Earl should have the like freedom to plead for himself; which so soon as the Commons heard a great number of the precise part cried, 'Withdraw, withdraw,' and the Lords immediately thereupon cried, 'Adjourn, adjourn,' and so both Houses went in little better than [a] tumultuous manner from the Hall to their several houses, where they did little, but agreed only to meet in the afternoon. The King laughed, (as my author says) and the Earl of Strafford was so well pleased therewith, that he could not hide his joy, being now sine die for any further proceeding.

In the Commons' House after dinner, after much debate what course they should take for the punishment of so great an incendiary, Sir Arthur Haselrigge drew out of his pocket a Bill, (supposed to have been prepared before that day), for the Earl's attainder, and punishment by death, (hanging, drawing, and quartering,) which Bill was, with much ado, kept from being read again the same afternoon—now the secret of their taking this way is conceived to be to prevent the hearing of the Earl's lawyers, who give out that there is no law yet in force whereby he can be condemned to die for ought that hath been yet objected against him, and therefore their intent is by this Bill to supply the defect of the laws therein. And to make him more odious, a paper was that afternoon produced and read in the Commons' House, which young Sir H. Vane is said to have found casually in his father's study (as notes of passages at the council table) wherein strange speeches of the said Earl were quoted, touching the curbing of the people, and introducing an arbitrary government, and also of the Lord Cottington's, and some others tending to the same end—about which paper both their majesties are said to be much offended with Mr. Secretary Vane."

N. Tomkyns, April 26th, 1641.

"There is a difference at present between the two Houses of Parliament, the Commons desire (now that the Bill against the Earl of Strafford is presented) to sit at the hearing of his counsel, as co-judges with the Lords, with their hats on, to which the Lords not assenting, the Commons are now content to sit as they did in Westminster Hall, uncovered, so be that the Lords will please to come as a Committee without their robes, to which the Lords having not yet yielded the controversy is not yet ended. Besides, Sir H. Vane's deposition touching the[526] Earl of Strafford is lost by the Clerk of the Higher House, who cannot give any account how it went out of his hands; and in a copy thereof, since found, great difference is found in the same by the altering, or rather by the adding of one letter, (t) for whereas it was in the original that the Earl should say his Majesty might by the army reduce the kingdom here it is there in this copy, and so refers to Ireland only.

Another paper touching Sir H. Vane also is lost by the Select Committee of the Lower House, it lying upon Mr. Pym's table, whereas five others were present, viz., Lord Digby, Sir Walter Erle, Sir John Clotworthy, Mr. Hampden, and Mr. Maynard, which occasioned a variance and reproaching one another publicly, each one making their personal protestations of being guiltless therein. The suspicion fell most on the Lord Digby, who was last in the chamber, and had said to some of them that Mr. Pym should do well to have more care of his papers, than to let them lie so loose. The Lord protested his own innocence, and said it must be some unworthy man, who had his eye upon place and preferment; wherein he was supposed to allude to Mr. Pym himself, who hath been with the King twice of late, and since the Lord Cottington laid his office at the King's feet, is designed by the voice of the people to be his successor in the Chancellorship of the Exchequer."

It is curious to observe, in the first of these letters, that the account of the effect produced by the confusion, is different from the impression conveyed by Nalson, ii. 102, as well as by Baillie, i. 346. The letter is inconsistent with Rushworth's statement, that the Bill of Attainder was twice read on the 10th of April.—Strafford's Trial, 45.

Verney, in his "Notes of Proceedings in the Long Parliament," p. 37, reports in detail the account given by Mr. Coggin and Sir H. Vane the younger, of the way in which the famous paper was "casually" found.

Clarendon charges the father with having given the principal information for the "whole prosecution," Hist. 92; and, perhaps, the words in Tomkins' first letter about the King's displeasure towards him points to a suspicion of that kind.

II.—Vol. I. 152.

Plan of Church Reform Presented to the House of Commons.

June 11th, 1641.—The Commons, in a Grand Committee, of whom Mr. Hyde, Member for Saltash, was chairman, resumed the consideration of the Bill against Episcopacy; when the following scheme of[527] Alterations in the government of the Church was proposed to the House:—

I.—"That every several Shire of England and Wales be a several Circuit or Diocese for the Ecclesiastic Jurisdiction, excepting Yorkshire, which is to be divided into three.

II.—"A constant Presbytery of twelve choice Divines, to be selected in every Shire or Diocese.

III.—"A constant President to be established as a Bishop over this Presbytery.

IV.—"The Bishop in each Diocese to ordain, suspend, deprive, degrade, and excommunicate, by and with the consent and assistance of seven Divines of his Presbytery, then present, and not else.

V.—"The times of Ordination throughout the land to be four times in the year, viz., the 1st of May, 1st of August, 1st of November, and the 1st of February.

VI.—"Every Bishop constantly to reside within his diocese, in some one chief city or town within his diocese.

VII.—"Every Bishop to have one special particular congregation, to be chosen out of the most convenient place for distance from his chief residence, and the richest in value that may be had; where he shall duly preach, unless he be lawfully hindered, and then shall take care his cure be well supplied by another.

VIII.—"No Bishop shall remove or be translated from the Bishopric which he shall first undertake.

IX.—"Upon every death or other avoidance of a Bishopric, the King to grant a congé d'élire to all the clergy of the whole diocese, they to present three of the Presbytery aforesaid, and the King to choose and nominate whom he pleaseth of them.

X.—"The first Presbytery of every Shire to be named by Parliament; and afterwards upon the death or other avoidance of any Presbyter, the remaining Presbyters to choose one other out of the parish ministers of that Shire, and this to be done within one month next after such death or avoidance.

XI.—"No Bishop or clergyman to exercise or have any temporal office, or secular employment; but only for the present, to hold and keep the Probate of Wills, until the Parliament shall otherwise resolve.

XII.—"The Bishop once a year, at Midsummer, to summon a diocesan synod: there to hear, and by general vote, to determine[528] all such matters of scandal in life and doctrine amongst clergymen, as shall be presented unto them.

XIII.—"Every three years a national synod to be held, which shall consist of all the Bishops in the land; of two Presbyters, to be chosen by the rest out of each Presbytery; and of two clerks, to be chosen out of every diocese by the Clergy thereof.

XIV.—"This national synod to make and ordain Canons for the government of the Church, but they not to bind until they be confirmed by Parliament.

XV.—"Every Bishop to have over and above the benefice aforesaid, a certain constant rent allowed to be allotted proportional to the diocese wherein he is to officiate.

XVI.—"Every Presbyter to have a constant yearly profit above his benefice. 'As for the revenue of the Bishops, Deans, and Chapters, &c., a strict survey to be taken of all their rents and profits; and the same to be represented at the beginning of the next convention; and in the mean time no lease to be renewed nor timber to be felled.'"

III.—Vol. I. 280.

N.B.—The Assembly proceeded no further in the revisal."—Neal, iii. 555-563.

IV.—Vol. I. 294.

Copy of the Solemn League and Covenant.

We Noblemen, Barons, Knights, Gentlemen, Citizens, Burgesses, Ministers of the Gospel, and Commons of all sorts in the kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland, by the Providence of God living under one King, and being of one reformed religion, having before our eyes the glory of God, and the advancement of the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the honour and happiness of the King's majesty and his posterity, and the true public liberty, safety, and peace of the kingdoms, wherein every one's private condition is included, and calling to mind the treacherous and bloody plots, conspiracies, attempts, and practices of the enemies of God against the true religion and professors thereof in all places, especially in these three kingdoms, ever since the reformation of religion, and how much their rage, power, and presumption are of late, and at this time increased and exercised, whereof the deplorable estate of the Church and kingdom of Ireland, the distressed estate of the Church and kingdom of England, and the dangerous estate of the Church and kingdom of Scotland, are present and public testimonies, we have (now at last) after other means of supplication, remonstrance, protestations, and sufferings, for the preservation of ourselves and our religion from utter ruin and destruction, according to the commendable practice of these kingdoms in former times, and the example of God's people in other nations, after mature deliberation,[536] resolved and determined to enter into a mutual and solemn League and Covenant, wherein we all subscribe, and each one of us for himself, with our hands lifted up to the most high God, do swear:—

I.—That we shall sincerely, really, and constantly, thro' the grace of God, endeavour in our several places and callings, the preservation of the reformed religion in the Church of Scotland, in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government, against our common enemies; the reformation of religion in the kingdoms of England and Ireland, in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government, according to the Word of God, and the example of the best reformed churches; and we shall endeavour to bring the Churches of God in the three kingdoms to the nearest conjunction and uniformity in religion, confessing of faith, form of Church government, Directory for worship and catechising, that we, and our posterity after us, may, as brethren, live in faith and love, and the Lord may delight to dwell in the midst of us.

II.—That we shall in like manner, without respect of persons, endeavour the extirpation of Popery, Prelacy, (that is, Church-government by Archbishops, Bishops, their Chancellors and Commissaries, Deans, Deans and Chapters, Archdeacons, and all other ecclesiastical officers, depending on that hierarchy), superstition, heresy, schism, profaneness, and whatsoever shall be found to be contrary to sound doctrine and the power of godliness, lest we partake in other men's sins, and thereby be in danger to receive of their plagues, and that the Lord may be one, and His Name one in the three kingdoms.

III.—We shall with the same sincerity, reality, and constancy, in our several vocations, endeavour with our estates and lives mutually to preserve the rights and privileges of the Parliaments, and the liberties of the kingdoms, and to preserve and defend the King's Majesty's person and authority, in the preservation and defence of the true religion and liberties of the kingdoms, that the world may bear witness with our consciences of our loyalty, and that we have no thoughts or intentions to diminish his Majesty's just power and greatness.

IV.—We shall also with all faithfulness endeavour the discovery of all such as have been or shall be incendiaries, malignants, or evil instruments, by hindering the reformation of religion, dividing the King from his people, or one of the kingdoms from another, or making any faction or parties amongst the people, contrary to the League and Covenant, that they may be brought[537] to public trial, and receive condign punishment, as the degree of their offences shall require or deserve, or the supreme judicatories of both kingdoms respectively, or others having power from them for that effect, shall judge convenient.

V.—And whereas the happiness of a blessed peace between these kingdoms, denied in former times to our progenitors, is by the good providence of God granted unto us, and hath been lately concluded and settled by both Parliaments, we shall each one of us, according to our places and interest, endeavour that they may remain conjoined in a firm peace and union to all posterity, and that justice may be done upon the wilful opposers thereof in manner expressed in the precedent articles.

VI.—We shall also, according to our places and callings, in this common cause of religion, liberty, and peace of the kingdom, assist and defend all those that enter into this League and Covenant, in the maintaining and pursuing thereof, and shall not suffer ourselves directly or indirectly, by whatsoever combination, persuasion, or terror, to be divided and withdrawn from this blessed union and conjunction, whether to make defection to the contrary part, or give ourselves to a detestable indifferency or neutrality in this cause, which so much concerneth the glory of God, the good of the kingdoms, and the honour of the King; but shall all the days of our lives zealously and constantly continue therein, against all opposition, and promote the same according to our power against all lets and impediments whatsoever; and what we are not able ourselves to suppress or overcome we shall reveal and make known, that it may be timely prevented or removed; all which we shall do as in the sight of God.

And because these kingdoms are guilty of many sins, and provocations against God, and His Son Jesus Christ, as is too manifest by our present distresses and dangers, the fruits thereof, we profess and declare before God and the world our unfeigned desire to be humbled for our sins, and for the sins of these kingdoms, especially that we have not, as we ought, valued the inestimable benefit of the Gospel, that we have not laboured for the purity and power thereof, and that we have not endeavoured to receive Christ in our hearts, nor to walk worthy of Him in our lives, which are the causes of other sins and transgressions so much abounding amongst us; and our true and unfeigned purpose, desire, and endeavour for ourselves, and all others under our power and charge, both in public and in private, in all[538] duties we owe to God and man, to amend our lives, and each one to go before another in the example of a real reformation, that the Lord may turn away His wrath and heavy indignation, and establish these Churches and kingdoms in truth and peace; and this covenant we make in the presence of Almighty God, the searcher of all hearts, with a true intention to perform the same, as we shall answer at that great day, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, most humbly beseeching the Lord to strengthen us by His Holy Spirit for this end, and to bless our desires and proceedings with such success as may be a deliverance and safety to His people, and encouragement to the Christian Churches groaning under, or in danger of the yoke of anti-Christian tyranny, to join in the same or like association and Covenant, to the glory of God, the enlargement of the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and the peace and tranquillity of Christian kingdoms and commonwealths.—Rushworth v. 478.

V.—Vol. I. 329.

Respecting the Minutes of the Westminster Assembly.

The question has often been asked, "What became of the minutes of the Assembly kept by the scribes?" It has been said by some, they were burnt in the fire of London; by others, that they were destroyed (1834) in the fire which burnt down the House of Commons ("Hetherington's Hist. of the Westminster Assembly," preface v.) Whether it be the case that some MS. records of the proceedings were so consumed I have no means of ascertaining. But certainly there exist in Dr. Williams' library, minutes of the Assembly's business, in the handwriting of Adoniram Byfield, one of the scribes. As so many incorrect accounts of these MSS. have been given, I am glad to be able to present the following description of them, drawn up from the carefully-prepared but unprinted catalogue of Dr. Williams' MSS. by Mr. Black, and from my own examination of the papers. They consist of three volumes, and contain minutes of the sessions of the Assembly of Divines from August the 4th, 1643, to April the 24th, 1652, and what are, apparently, the rough notes of proceedings, debates, and orders of the Assembly, taken for the most part by Adoniram Byfield, one of the scribes.

On the fly-leaf of the first volume is a list of members, amongst whom the sum of £100 had been distributed in sums of £5 each, according to the decision of a Committee (Sept. 8th, 1643) "appointed to dispose of the £100, allotted by the order of Parliament, to such[539] persons as they shall find to have most need thereof, for supply of their present necessities."—Vol. i. 24.

This volume contains heads and particulars, in many cases very brief, of speeches delivered in the Assembly, with the names of speakers appended in the margin, as well as lists of resolutions passed, and various other memoranda. The proceedings of sessions thus reported extend from August the 4th, 1643, to April the 11th, 1644.

The second volume embraces similar minutes from the 12th of April to the 15th of August, 1644, with a list of members prefixed. Some of the notes are written in shorthand by a different scribe; but however unintelligible the shorthand may be, it is not much more so than Mr. Byfield's longhand in some places.

Vol. iii. gives further minutes from November the 18th, 1644, to March the 25th, 1652. The late ones are briefly, but more distinctly recorded, in the handwriting of better scribes than Byfield.

"The latest sessions relate almost exclusively to examinations for ordinations for livings, in relation to which an original paper was found loose in the book, now inserted in its proper place, where the name occurs—viz.: testimonial from R. Robinson in favour of Mr. Gilson, M.A., and fellow of C.C.C., Oxon., 14th March, 1650-51."

Some of the papers in this volume are carelessly arranged, but they contain only trivial memoranda.

There are bound up in this volume Minutes of Provincial Assemblies holden at Sion College, and elsewhere in London, from the 27th of November, 1650, to the 9th of April, 1655.

"It does not appear when these volumes were deposited in this library. They came most probably with Morrice's MSS."

Mention has often been made of there being in Dr. Williams' library fourteen or fifteen small volumes of the Assembly's transactions, by Dr. Thomas Goodwin. No manuscript notes by Goodwin can there be found. The three volumes just described contain a number of distinct thin MSS. bound up together. Do not they after all contain the fourteen or fifteen small (thin?) MSS. incorrectly ascribed to Dr. Goodwin?

In the Advocate's library, Edinburgh, there are two volumes of manuscript notes, by Gillespie, which—according to Dr. Hetherington, who inspected them—"corroborate the printed accounts of Lightfoot and Baillie."

VI.—Vol. I. 434.

Number of the Ejected Clergy.

The number of clergymen ejected during the Civil Wars and under the Commonwealth is a question commonly discussed in a party spirit.[540] The Churchman is anxious to swell the number, and the Nonconformist labours to reduce it; each thinking his ecclesiastical principles at stake in the controversy. Yet it is curious that the former should not see, that the more sequestrations there might be, the more open to censure must have been the conduct of the clergy; the more likely must be the charges of immorality brought against them; and the more completely must they have alienated from themselves the sympathies of the nation—otherwise how can we account for their being swept out of the Church in such swarms? For it is incredible that the enormous number imagined by some could have been expelled on political or ecclesiastical grounds alone, without any demerit on the score of irreligion or uselessness. It is equally curious that the Nonconformist should regard his own cause as helped, and the opposite side as damaged, by making the sequestrations under Puritan ascendancy appear to have been few; for, if few, then either the clergy of that age could not be so bad as they have been represented, or the Puritans allowed clergymen to remain in the Church notwithstanding their immorality. The interests of Church or of dissent are really not at all involved in this enquiry. Even if it were to the interest of the one that the Puritans should be represented as bad as possible, and to the interest of the other that they should be represented as good as possible, still the proper subject of investigation would be found, not in numerical statistics, but in the rules laid down to regulate the sequestrations, and in the spirit of equity, or otherwise, in which they were carried out. Of those rules we have spoken already.

Walker hazards the statement, that if we add "such as would have suffered had not death prevented," it would "in all probability make the total nothing short of ten thousand."[586] To pass over the absurdity of including those who might have suffered, but were prevented by death, it is enough to remark that he entirely invalidates his own calculations by candidly confessing that he possessed no satisfactory data on which to proceed. He apologizes for the defectiveness of his lists, and endeavours to give colour to his conjectures by quoting broad royalist assertions, in which "thousands" are dealt with in the loosest way: and a report is cited, that the party in power "destroyed all the principal ministers throughout the kingdom, and of ten thousand scarce left one thousand of the old clergy." If nine thousand were ejected,[541] the question naturally occurs, what became of them all? Making allowance for mere curates, and for unusual mortality owing to hardship, and for those who went abroad, and for those who, having betaken themselves to other means of livelihood, did not care to seek their old cures, how came it about that so small a proportion re-entered the Church upon the re-establishment of Episcopacy?[587] If, on Walker's reckoning, all survivors (with such exceptions as were just now indicated) had been reinstated, then, to make room for them all, many more ejectments, between the Restoration and Bartholomew's-day, must have occurred than can be reconciled with the facts of history.

Nor do I see my way to the opposite extreme. It has been argued that although two thousand episcopal clergymen might altogether first and last suffer ejectment during the period, half were allowed to return before its expiration. To establish the point that one-half the ejected Episcopalians were re-admitted by Presbyterians or Independents under the Commonwealth, requires positive statistical evidence such as I cannot discover.

General references to the preaching of malignant ministers may be met with in Commonwealth tracts, but they are not sufficient to decide the matter.[588] Moreover, it must be remembered that if some individuals, ejected during the wars, were replaced when the wars were over, others who had escaped under the Presbyterians were turned out by the Independents.

Walker mentions White's assertion that 8,000 of the clergy "were unworthy and scandalous, and deserved to be cast out;" and the addition made to this by Mr. Stephens, that "he (White) and his committee have come little short of that number." Sir Henry Yelverton too is quoted as saying: "If I mistake not there were 8,000 forsook all for the Covenant." Walker afterwards insists on Dr. Gauden's calculation of 6,000 or 7,000 persons expelled. With respect to [542] which Coleridge says: "I presume that no party will regard any assertion of Gauden's as other than==O—nay, nay, this is saying too little. It is==evidence in the same sense as debts are algebraically designated==capital.—'Southey's Life of Wesley.'" This is too severe, yet Gauden's testimony in the matter does not prove anything. The reports quoted by Walker will appear to every impartial reader of his "Sufferings" quite insufficient to sustain his conclusions. He makes out a list of 1,339 names of the several persons mentioned in the cathedrals, collegiate churches, chapels, and the two universities. He also gives, without numbering, lists of some of the loyal and Episcopal clergy of London and of the provinces. All these lists he acknowledges are imperfect, and he admits that some names may be given more than once, and that many of the cathedral clergy held parochial benefices. Nothing can be determined on such grounds. It may be further stated that he and Anthony Wood do not agree. Walker says that about 400 were ejected from Oxford (part ii. 139). Wood states that 334 (see Neal, iii. 455) did not submit, but they were not immediately expelled. Walker, p. 138, represents Wood as meaning 334 at one time, besides more at other times, but I cannot trace his references.

Now let us turn to data supplied from other sources.

Baillie, in his "Letters" (vol. ii. 224), August 28th, 1644, speaks as if many churches were at the time unsupplied, for he says, that after all which can be done by a pure ordination, and what more Scotland "can afford of good youths for the ministry here, are provided; it is thought some thousands of churches must vaik (be vacant) for fault of men."

There is a tract in the "Harleian Miscel." (vii. 181), giving a total list of 115 London clergy expelled. "In the ninety-seven parishes within the walls, besides St. Paul's, outed eighty-five, and dead, sixteen." Out of sixteen without the walls, fourteen expelled, two dead. Out of eleven out parishes, nine expelled, two dead. Adjacent towns, besides those of the Abbey Church and Islington, seven expelled, two dead. This list differs somewhat from "Walker's" (p. ii. 164-180). There is a list of sequestrations in Essex (Add. MSS. Brit. Museum. 15,669, &c.), amounting to 153, out of the 415 parishes in that county.

Withers, of Exeter—a Nonconformist—computed that in Suffolk, Norfolk, and Cambridge, out of 1,398 parishes, there were 253 sequestrations, and in his own county of Devon, out of 394 parishes there were 139 ejected, thirty-nine were deducted for pluralities ("Neal," iii. 134). Pluralists must be allowed for throughout the country, so also must cathedral dignitaries and members of the universities, not holding parochial benefices. But what was done in the Eastern counties, [543]where the Puritan party had great power, is no rule for judging of what was done in other counties where the Puritan party had little power.

After repeatedly pondering what has been said on all sides, it appears to me impossible to come to a definite conclusion; but computing the clergy at about ten thousand, and reckoning from the loose data just given, I venture to suggest that perhaps about one fifth of the whole might be ejected. I see no ground for believing that less than 2,000 or more than 2,500 were expelled from the Establishment.

VII.—Vol. II. 150.

Draft of a Bill for revising the English Translation of the Scriptures.

Since the account given p. 150 was printed, the following document in the State Paper Office, (Domestic Interreg., Bundle 662, f. 12.,) has been pointed out to me:—

"Whereas by the reverend, godly, and learned Dr. Hill, it was publicly declared in his sermon before an honourable assembly,[589] and by himself since that time published in print, that when the Bible had been translated by the translators appointed, the New Testament was looked over by some Prelates (that he could name) to bring it to speak the prelatical language, and he was informed by one that lived then, a great observer of those times, fourteen places in the New Testament, whereof he instanceth these in five or six places by them corrupted.

The like testimony of those Prelates so wronging that new and best translation being given by some other ancient and godly preachers also, who lived in those times.

And some appearance hereof may yet be seen in part of that very copy of those translators.

And whereas in the original text of the Holy Scriptures there is so great a depth, that only by degrees there is a progress of light towards the attaining of perfection of the knowledge in the bettering of the translation thereof; and hence the most learned translators have found cause again and again of reviving and still rectifying and amending within a few years of what they themselves had translated and published. And[544] this hath been the commendable practice even of some Papists,[590] and of sundry of the reformed religion.[591]

And it being now above forty years since our new translation was finished,[592] divers of the heads of colleges and many other learned persons (that coming later have the advantage to stand as on the heads of the former) in their public sermons (and in print also) have often held out to their hearers and readers that the Hebrew or Greek may better be rendered, as they mention, than as it is in our newest and best translation: some of the places seeming to be very material, and crying aloud for the rectifying of them, if the truth be as it is so affirmed, and published by them, and here in some MSS. presented to us.

And forasmuch as the translation by Mr. H. Ainsworth of Moses and the Psalms, and Song of Solomon, is greatly commended by many of the learned as far more agreeable to the Hebrew than ours; and it is said that there are MSS. of his translations of some other Scriptures both of the Old and New Testament. And also in other parts of the Holy Scriptures, some have translated verses and some chapters; and we hear that some have translated the New Testament, if not the Old also, and would have them printed and published in our nation. Which if it should be done on their own heads, without due care for the supervising thereof by learned persons sound in the fundamentals of the Christian religion, might be a precedent of dangerous consequence, emboldening other to do the like, and might tend at last to bring in other Scriptures or another Gospel instead of the oracles of God and the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

For the reforming, rectifying, and repairing of the former injury to the new translation, and for preventing of so great inconveniences of such dangerous consequence, and for the furtherance (what in us lieth) and the benefit and edification of many, Be it [enacted,] that no person or persons whatsoever within the dominions of England, Scotland, and Ireland, without the approbation of persons hereafter named or to be named by authority, shall presume to print or publish any such translation of the Bible or of the New Testament.

And that these persons, viz: Dr. John Owen,[593] Dr. Ralph Cudworth, Mr. Jenkins, Mr. William Greenhill, Mr. Samuel Slater, Mr. William Cowper, Mr. Henry Jessey, Mr. Ralph Venninge, and Mr. John Row, Hebrew professor in Aberdeen, in Scotland, shall be and hereby are constituted, appointed, and authorized in and about all these particulars[545] following to be performed by them in the fear of the Lord, for the good of His people, namely:—

That these or any three or more of them may search and observe wherein that last translation appears to be wronged by the Prelates, or printers, or others; that in all such places, as far as in them is, it may be rectified and amended therein, and the evident and most material failings that do in a special manner call for reformation, (some particulars whereof to us have been presented for consideration;) and that this may be performed with all speed before there be any further printing of the Bible.

And further, because it is our duty to endeavour to have the Bible translated in all places as accurately and as perfectly agreeing with the original Hebrew and Greek as we can attain unto, to remove (whatever in us lieth) the stumbling-blocks and offence of the weak, or the cavils of others when they hear in sermons preached or printed, or in other treatises, that the original bears it better thus and thus. Be it [enacted] that the persons beforesaid may seriously consider the translation of Mr. H. Ainsworth, and of any other translations, annotations, or observations made or that may be made by any of themselves, or of any others that they know of, or may confer withal (who are desired to add unto them their best assistance for the general good of all), and consider of the marginal readings in Bibles, whether any of them should rather be in the line. And what they, after serious looking up to the Lord for His gracious assistance in so weighty a work, and advising together amongst themselves, shall judge to be nearest to the text, and to the mind of the Lord, they may give thereunto their approbation, and this with all speed that conveniently they are able.

And be it further [enacted], that Dr. Thomas Goodwin, Dr. Tuckney, and Mr. Joseph Caryl, are hereby appointed and authorized to be supervisors of what is so approved, and that what those persons shall so approve of, shall accordingly be printed and published for the general edification and benefit of the whole nation, to be read both privately and in the public congregations."

Vol. II. 207.

Anno Domini, 1655.

For the following extract from the Records of the Church at Bury St. Edmund's, dating from 1646, I am indebted to the Rev. Alfred Tyler, the present minister.

"Thos. Taylor, sometimes a member of the Church of Christ which is[546] at Norwich, and, afterwards, by dismission from them, a foundation member of the Church which is at Godwick and Stanfield, in the county of Norfolk, being a publick preacher and dispenser of the Gospell, approved therein by both those Churches, was called by the Church to preach and dispense the Gospell of Christ unto them in the year 1653, and after neare two yeares experience and tryall, his dismission being first obtained from the Church of Godwick and Stanfield, was by commendation from the said Church and brethren at Godwick, and also by giving in a relation of the dealings of God with his soul, of the work of grace upon his heart, received into fellowship as a brother upon the 18th day of the 9th month, 16—." (The other figures are worn off.)

After this follows a somewhat lengthy confession of faith, and then:—

"Upon the 3rd day of the eleventh month, commonly called January, the Church did, by election and holding up of hands, and by fasting and prayer, ordain Thomas Taylor, a publick preacher and member of the Church, after neare two yeares tryall and experience, unto the office of a pastor, and John Hayward, a member of the same Church, unto the office of a Deacon, at a very solemn and publick meeting, where were present the messengers sent from nine generall Churches, viz.: 1, Coggeshall, in the county of Essex; 2, Sudbury, that whereof Saml. Crossman is pastor; 3, two Churches in Ipswich, meeting at St. Peters (?) and Hellens; 4,——ham (?); 5, Weston; 6, Rattlesden; 7, Pulham; 8, H——en, both in the county of Norfolk; in which meeting the Church did also make a publick profession of their faith according to the foregoing copy, and had the unanimous, clear, and full concurrence of the spirits, judgments, and approbation of all the messengers, both as to their confession of faith, church-state, and order, not one dissenting; and did, at the same meeting, receive the right hand of fellowship from the Churches of Rattlesden, Weston, and Coggeshall: and the messengers from H——en and Pulham declared that the Church had formerly received the right hand of fellowship from them, at or soone after their first sitting down together in fellowship; and the messengers from ——ham, Sudbury, and Hellens, in Ipswich, promised, on the behalf of those Churches, that they would make report of our faith and order unto the Churches to whom they did belong, and to give us the right hand of fellowship at some convenient time, but could not then doe it because they had received no such power from the Church."

[547]

Additional Note on Ritualism.

The whole of this work was prepared and much of it printed before the present controversy on Ritualism arose. This will account for the omission in the early part of the first volume of any comparison between the Ritualism of Anglo-Catholics under the Stuarts, and the Ritualism of Anglo-Catholics at the present day. Judging from ceremonial worship now performed in certain quarters, and from the publications of persons who represent the party, we may say that Archbishop Laud never attempted to go so far in the adoption of Roman Catholic rites and vestments as his modern successors have done.

INDEX.

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• Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury, i. 359; ii. 234
• Act of Uniformity, First of Elizabeth, i. 5
• At the Restoration, 47
• Akehurst, ii. 271
• Alcock, i. 433
• Alleine, Joseph, ii. 220
• Alphery, i. 433
• Alvey, i. 433
• Ames, Dr. William, i. 460
• Andrewes, Bishop, i. 9, 50, 53, 129
• Andrews, Mrs. Margaret, ii. 426
• Anglo-Catholics under Elizabeth, i. 4
• Under James I. and Charles I., 6, 29
• Changes in their Doctrine and Policy, 7
• Under Laud, 31
• Adhere to Resolutions issued by the Lords concerning Innovations, 172
• Annesley, Dr. Samuel, His Loyalty to the King, ii. 44
• His Sermon at St. Paul's, 437
• Arminianism in time of Stuarts, i. 17, 45, 52
• Arrowsmith, Dr. John, Master of St. John's, ii. 274
• Ash, Simeon, Chaplain to Lord Brooke, i. 241
• Preaches to the Soldiers, 250
• Attended Love on the Scaffold, ii. 48
• Died in 1646, 187
• Ash, Edward, i. 529
• Ashmole, Elias, at Oxford, ii. 257
• Assembly of Divines, Ordinance for convening it, i. 271
• Members, 272
• Appointed by Secular Authority, 273
• Controlled by Parliament, 274
• Their First Meeting, 275
• Assemble again, 278
• Present a Petition to the Two Houses, 287
• Appoint Deputation to accompany Commissioners to Scotland, 289
• Follow Pym to the Grave, 302
• Invited to the City Banquet, 308
• Advise Destruction of Popish Relics, 313
• Their Exhortation respecting the Solemn League and Covenant, 320
• They meet in Jerusalem Chamber, 326
• Baillie's Description of Assembly, 327
• Propose Committee for Ordination, 391
• Debate the subject of a Directory, 405
• Debates on Ordination, 417
• On Presbyterian Discipline, 418
• Touching "The Power of the Keys," 439
• Toleration, 443
• Divine Right of Presbyterianism, 446
• On the Jus Divinum, 447
• Assembly threatened with a Præmunire, 448
• They submit to Parliament, 448
• Conclusion of their History, 448
• Their Confession of Faith, 449
• Catechisms, 450
• Revision of Psalmody, 451
• The Assembly not treated with Justice, 452
• Talents and Attainments of the Divines, 453
• Astley, Sir Jacob, i. 254
• Atkins, Robert, ii. 228
• Ayscue, Sir George, ii. 469-472

• Bacon, Sir Nicholas, i. 351
• Bagshawe, i. 85, 103, 113
• Baillie, Visits London, i. 107
• Present at City Banquet, 311
• At the Hague, ii. 23
• His Speech to Charles, 24
• See also i. 264, 269, 289, 298, 327, 418, 437
• Baines, Captain, ii. 147
• Baltimore, Lord, Governor of Maryland, ii. 450, 478, 482
• Bampfield, ii. 150, 363
• Bancroft, i. 6, 17, 42
• Baptists, ii. 121
• In Elizabeth's Reign, 230
• Their Publications, 232
• Imprisoned, 234
• Arminian and Calvinistic Baptists, 235
• Their Controversy with Calamy, 236
• Their Polity and Discipline, 238
• Ministers, 238
• Baptists in Wales, 243
• In Ireland and Scotland, 244
• Barksdale, ii. 296
• Barlow, ii. 258
• Barnardston, Sir Nathaniel, ii. 422
• Barrow, Isaac, ii. 267
• Barrowe, Henry, i. 353
• Barrowists, Bill against them, i. 355
• Barton, i. 451; ii. 393
• Barwick, John, i. 384
• Basire, Isaac, ii. 321
• Bastwick, i. 26, 79
• Bates, William, ii. 185
• Battles. Edge Hill, i. 253
• Newbury, 296
• Long Marston Moor, 425
• Naseby, 428
• Dunbar, ii. 37
• Worcester, 43
• Baxter, Richard, at Alcester, i. 254
• His Dislike to Covenant, 325
• With the Army, 456
• Draws up an Agreement, ii. 187
• At Kidderminster, 189
• Preaches before Oliver Cromwell, 194
• His Correspondence with Howe, 223
• See also i. 315, 452; ii. 48, 100, 312, 366, 385
• Beal, Thomas, i. 221
• Bedell, Bishop of Kilmore, i. 216
• Bedford, Samuel, ii. 133
• Behmen, Jacob, ii. 367
• Bere, Sidney, his Letters, i. 149, 167, 183, 198, 229
• Berry, Major-General, i. 464; ii. 115, 119
• Berry, Daniel, i. 434
• Bibles, Misprinted, ii. 150
• Biddle, ii. 102, 367
• Bishops, i. 76
• Attempts to Remove them from the Peerage, 126
• Thirteen impeached, 163
• Bishops Promoted, 186
• Insulted, 199
• Protest of Twelve Bishops, 203
• Impeached, 205
• Unpopularity, 205
• Bishops who died before 1650, 209
• Irish Bishops, 216
• Bishops with the King at Oxford, 378
• Those who were Deprived, ii. 302
• Those who Survived the Return of Charles II., 308
• Blair, i. 107
• Blake, Robert, i. 430, 437; ii. 215
• Bodurda, ii. 146
• Bolton, i. 53
• Book of Sports, i. 13, 52, 93
• Booth, Sir George, his Insurrection, ii. 168
• Boteler, Major-General, ii. 114
• Bramhall, Bishop of Derry, his account of Irish Church, i. 216
• His flight from Ireland, ii. 309
• Extracts from his Works, 311
• Brayne, ii. 477
• Brent, Sir Nathaniel, i. 68, 121, 386, 484
• Bridge, William, i. 332, 371; ii. 219
• Briscoe, Colonel, ii. 147, 149
• Broghill, Lord, ii. 117, 226
• Brooke, Lord, i. 77, 246
• Enlists Volunteers, 240
• Exhortation to Londoners, 255
• His Death, 280
• Brooke, Basil, i. 304
• Brooks, Thomas, ii. 219
• Browne, Robert, i. 349, 351
• In Scotland, ii. 225
• Brownism, i. 177, 351
• Brownists, i. 255, 343, 355, 365; ii. 226
• Brownrigg, Bishop of Exeter, i. 186; ii. 277
• Member of Assembly, i. 272, 278
• Remainder of his days, ii. 307
• Bulkeley, i. 409
• Bull, George, ii. 294, 436
• Bunyan, i. 428; ii. 241
• Burdett, i. 50
• Burgess, Dr. Cornelius, i. 91, 102, 143, 170, 292, 312, 328; ii. 229
• Chaplain to Earl of Essex, i. 241
• Appointed Assessor to Assembly, 279
• Burleigh, Lord, i. 349, 351
• Burnet, ii. 276, 279, 503
• Burroughs, Jeremiah, i. 332, 333, 422
• Burroughs, Edward, ii. 359
• Burton, i. 26, 79, 369
• Busby, Richard, ii. 292
• Busher, Leonard, i. 346; ii. 231
• Butler, ii. 147
• Button, Ralph, ii. 254
• Byfield, i. 278, 328

• Cabot, ii. 443
• Calamy, Edmund, Presbyterian Preacher, i. 259
• His Popularity, 260
• See also i. 329; ii. 48, 139, 175, 182, 236
• Calvin, i. 99
• Calvinism, i. 17, 46
• Cambridge University—Opposition to Parliament, i. 490
• Commissioners, 491
• Revival of Puritanism, 493
• Engagement enforced, ii. 265
• Military Visitors, 268
• Evelyn's Visit, 273
• Studies at Cambridge, 281
• Compared with Oxford, 284
• Canne, John, ii. 234, 245
• Carbery, Lady—Sketch of her Character, ii. 423
• Cartwright, i. 43, 100
• Cary, Lucius, Viscount Falkland, i. 72, 113, 127, 185, 267
• His Character and Policy, 225
• Created Secretary of State, 231
• Killed at Newbury, 296
• Caryl, Joseph, i. 527; ii. 216
• Cathedrals, those that suffered from Destruction of Popish Relics, i. 316
• Cawdry, i. 329
• Cawton, a Presbyterian Minister, ii. 12
• Charles I. opens Long Parliament, i. 1
• Attached to Episcopacy, 76
• Attempts to Establish it in Scotland, 104
• Summons both Houses to Whitehall, 111
• Assents to Bill rendering Parliament Indissoluble, 135
• His Perplexity when sanctioning the Death of Strafford, 139
• Assents to Scotch Treaty, Starts for Scotland, 166
• Attempts to conciliate Scotch, 169
• His Return and Reception in London, 187
• Grand Remonstrance presented to him, 191
• His Answer, 192
• Attempts to seize the Five Members, 193
• His Flight from London, 229
• Attempts at Mediation between him and Parliament, 231
• Parliamentary Propositions, 236
• His Answer, 236
• Denied Entrance to Hull, 246
• Sets up his Standard, 247
• On his way to London, 254
• Quarrel between King and City, 256
• Scotch Commissioners treat with him, 264
• Parliament sends an Embassy, 265
• Success of his Army, 283
• His Duplicity, 300
• Intrigues with Independents, 306
• His Mock Parliament, 330
• At Oxford, 372
• Accused of Popish Tendencies, 374
• Agrees to Truce with Ireland, 376
• Treaty at Uxbridge, 412
• His Double-dealing, 415
• His Debate with Henderson, 469
• Joins Scotch Camp at Newark, 469
• His Letters to the Queen, 470, 474
• Parliament Propositions to him, 472
• His Dislike of Presbyterianism, 473
• His Intrigues with Independents and Papists, 475
• In hands of Parliamentary Commissioners, 513
• Taken from Holdenby by Independents, 519
• Newport Treaty, 526
• His Removal from Carisbrook to Hurst Castle, 529
• On the Scaffold, 531
• His Burial, 535
• Regarded as a Martyr, ii. 20
• Charles II. in Holland, ii. 21
• Scotch Commissioners sent to treat with him, 23
• His Policy, 25
• Papers disclosing secrets, 25
• Signs Covenant and goes to Scotland, 31
• Crowned in Scotland, 39
• His Life there, 40
• Comes to England, 42
• His Treachery, 43
• Defeated at Worcester, 43
• Charnock, ii. 227
• Cheynell, Francis, i. 286; ii. 100
• His Connection with Chillingworth, i. 381
• Chidley, Catherine, ii. 392
• Chillingworth, William, i. 286, 335
• At Oxford, 380, 381
• His Death, 382
• Cholmeley, Sir Hugh, i. 489
• Christina of Sweden, her Conversation with Whitelocke, i. 466
• Clarke, Samuel, ii. 185
• Clarkson, David, i. 284
• Clotworthy, Sir John, i. 212, 401
• Cogan, his Letters, i. 212, 222
• Coke, George, Bishop of Hereford, i. 210
• Coke, Secretary, ii. 484
• Coleman, Thomas, i. 330
• Colfe, Abraham, ii. 204
• Collinge, Dr., ii. 427
• Collins, Dr., i. 495
• Colonies, State of Religion before the Commonwealth, ii. 443
• Virginia, 446
• Bermudas, 449
• Maryland, 450
• Pilgrim Fathers, 451
• Massachusetts, 452
• During Civil Wars, 459
• Barbadoes, 460
• Maryland, 461
• United Colonies of New England, 462
• During the Commonwealth, 463
• Society for Propagation of Gospel in New England, 464
• Rhode Island, 467
• Barbadoes, 469
• Virginia, 472
• Bermudas, 474
• West Indies, 475
• Maryland, 477
• East Indies, 480
• Commons, Petitions, i. 79
• Debates on Religion, 83
• Appoint Committee to prepare Remonstrance, 86
• Committee to draw up charges against Strafford, 89
• Petitions, 108
• Debate on Root and Branch Petition, 112
• Resolution for Reforming Pluralities, 126
• Bill for removal of Star Chamber and High Commission Courts, 127
• Solemn Vow and Protestation, 133
• Bill rendering Parliament indissoluble, 135
• Deans and Chapters, 142
• Bill for Restraining Bishops, 144
• Bill for Abolition of Bishops, 147
• Sabbath Legislation, 151
• Abolition of Cathedral Chapters, 154
• Petition the King to delay his journey to Scotland, 166
• Send Commissioners after him, 166
• Press Church Reforms, 170
• New Bill for Excluding Bishops, 176
• Grand Remonstrance Debated, 179
• Arrest of the five Members, 193
• Impeach twelve Bishops, 204
• Return of the five Members, 229
• Bill for Abolition of Episcopacy, 262
• Corporation Banquet, 307
• Ordinances for Destruction of Popish Relics, 313
• Endorse Directory, 406
• Fresh Members in the House, 437
• Debates on the Jus Divinum, 447
• Decide that Rouse's Psalms should be sung, 451
• Ordinance against Heresies and Blasphemies, 523
• Newport Treaty, 526
• Pride's Purge, 531
• Conant, Dr. John, ii. 256
• Convocation, i. 95, 98, 108, 274
• Corbet, Edward, i. 386, 529
• Cosin, Dr., i. 493, 495; ii. 318
• Courten, Lady Catherine, her Christian Character, ii. 426
• Crisp, Dr., ii. 368
• Cromwell, Oliver, i. 63, 70, 115, 149, 185, 231
• Member for Cambridge, 64
• His Ironsides, 241
• Governor of Ely, 319
• Suggests Committee of Accommodation, 421
• At Marston Moor, 425
• His Letter about Naseby, 429
• His Jealousy of Presbyterian Power, 436
• Preaches to Soldiers, 464
• His desire for Toleration, 520
• Aims at Reconciling Presbyterians and Independents, 520
• Anecdote of him, 520
• His Character and Religion, ii. 3, 5
• Goes to Scotland, 35
• Victories at Dunbar, 37,
• and Worcester, 43
• Dissolves Long Parliament, 50
• His Speech at opening of Little Parliament, 53
• Members resign their powers into his hands, 65
• Made Lord Protector, 73
• His Portrait, 73
• His National Church, 79
• His Ecclesiastical Policy, 80
• State Recognition, 81
• State Control, 83
• State Support, 88
• State Protection, 89
• State Penalties, 90
• Originality of his Policy, 92
• His Establishment not a Church, 93
• His First Protectorate Parliament, 96
• His Speech at the Opening, 97
• Speech on Dissolving Parliament, 103
• His dislike to Episcopal Royalists, 110
• Major-Generals, 113
• His Second Parliament, 128
• His Speech, 131
• His Letters, 134
• Refusal of the Crown, 139
• Accepts Petition and Advice, 141
• His Speech, 141
• Religious Toleration under him, 144
• His Second Installation, 153
• His Speech at Re-assembling of Parliament, 157
• Last Speeches, 160
• His Order Book, 162
• His Broad Church, 165
• His Interview with Baxter, 194
• Makes Howe Court Chaplain, 221
• His Liberality to those who Differed from him, 222
• Receives Academic Honours at Oxford, 247
• Visits Cambridge, 265
• His Ordinance for another Collegiate Establishment, 286
• His Establishment, 294
• Anecdotes of him and Ussher, 304
• His Interview with Fox, 358
• Character of his Court, 400
• His Chaplains, 402
• His interference on behalf of the Piedmontese, 492
• Writes to Louis XIV., 499
• His Foreign Policy, 503
• His Treatment of the Jews, 504
• At Hampton Court, 508
• Death of his Daughter, 508
• His last Interview with Fox, 510
• His Last Days, 511
• Last Words, 517
• Death, 520
• Cromwell, Henry, ii. 121
• Cromwell, Richard, ii. 155
• Cudworth, Dr. Ralph, i. 339; ii. 275
• Culpeper, i. 85, 97, 148
• Curie, Walter, Bishop of Winchester, i. 210

• Dalston, Sir George, ii. 413
• Davenant, Bishop of Salisbury, i. 163
• Deans and Chapters, i. 142
• Their History, 155
• Surveys of their Possessions, ii. 9
• Abolition and sale of Possessions, 9
• Dell, William, ii. 269
• Denn, ii. 297
• Dering, Sir Edward, i. 74, 157, 178, 181, 191, 270; ii. 159
• Presents Bill for Abolition of Bishops, i. 146
• His Conduct, 149
• A Seceder from Popular Party, 224
• Desborough, Major-General, ii. 55, 134, 149
• Digby, Lord, i. 63, 75, 85, 97, 112
• Directory, Established, i. 404
• Debated in Assembly, 405
• Sent to Scotland, 406
• Ordinance for its Establishment, 406
• Penalties for Refusing it, 407
• Its Fate in Ireland, 409
• Donne, Dr., i. 9, 46, 53
• Dorset, Earl of, i. 365
• Douglas, ii. 39
• Downings, William, i. 315
• Duncan, Dr., i. 495
• Duppa, Bryan, Translated from Chichester to Salisbury, i. 186
• With the King at Oxford, 378
• Endeavours to Revive Episcopal Church, ii. 309
• Durie, John, ii. 490
• his Labours for Protestant Union, 484-489

• Eaton, i. 360, 364
• Edwards, ii. 365
• Eliot, Sir John, i. 28, 36, 67
• Eliot, John, ii. 464
• Elizabeth, i. 6, 41, 45, 214; ii. 4, 230
• Episcopacy, i. 99
• Rooted out of Scotland, 104
• Charles I. Attempts to Restore it, 104
• Defended in the House, 114
• Its Divine Right, 116
• Plans for its Reformation, 124
• Controversy Concerning it, 128
• Bill for Restraining Bishops, 144
• Bills for the Abolition of Episcopacy, 147, 176, 262
• Petitions Concerning it, 197
• No Bishop Riots, 199
• Bill for Exclusion from Upper House, 208
• Its Opponents, 227
• Sequestration of Property, 385
• New Bill Relative to it, 480
• Episcopalians—How they regarded Solemn Vow and Protestation, i. 134
• Blame Twelve Protesting Bishops, 205
• Not excluded from Westminster Assembly, 272
• Exasperated by League and Covenant, 325
• Their views of the Assembly, 452
• At Norwich, 505
• Their Dislike to the Scotch, ii. 33
• Commissioners for approbation of godly preachers, 104
• For ejecting scandalous ones, 107
• Persecution of their clergy, 111
• Those who continued to use the Common Prayer, 294
• Those who held Livings without using it, 298
• Those who did not Conform, 301
• Their Sufferings, 311
• Prayers read by them during Commonwealth, 340
• Their Patriotism, Loyalty, and Sufferings, 342
• Erastians, i. 330, 439, 447
• Theses by Erastus, 331
• Erbery, ii. 271
• Erle, Sir Walter, i. 135
• Essex, Earl of, i. 77
• Commander of Parliamentary Army, 241
• At Edge Hill, 254
• Raises Siege of Gloucester, 287
• At Newbury, 296
• Capitulates to the King, 426
• His Death, 517
• Evelyn, John, ii. 258, 273, 337, 418
• Ewes D', Sir Symonds, i. 114, 148, 152, 184, 529
• Ewins, Thomas, ii. 240

• Fairclough, Richard, ii. 420
• Fairfax, in Yorkshire, i. 283
• At Somerset, 430
• Punishes Disorderly Soldiers, 455
• Receives Academic Honours, ii. 247
• Falkland, (see Cary)
• Farindon, ii. 299, 436
• Feake, ii. 65, 70, 183
• Featley, Dr., i. 25
• Fell, Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, i. 498; ii. 249, 253
• Ferrendail, Orthro, ii. 225
• Fielding, Lady Barbara, i. 12
• Fiennes, Nathaniel, i. 62, 70, 75, 112; ii. 156, 159
• Fifth Monarchy Men, ii. 61, 63, 65, 70, 91, 120
• Finch, Lord Keeper, i. 2
• Fitz, Richard, i. 348
• Flavel, John, ii. 220
• Fleetwood, i. 522; ii. 512
• Fortescue, ii. 477
• Fox, George, His Early Life, ii. 350
• Character, 351
• His Mysticism, 352
• Mighty in Prayer, 354
• His Peculiarities, 355
• His Interview with Cromwell, 358
• His Followers, 359
• His Last Interview with Cromwell, 510
• Frampton, Robert, ii. 481
• Frewen, Dr., Accepted, i. 209
• Fuller, Thomas, i. 48, 277, 326, 376; ii. 202-204
• Chaplain to Lord Hopton, i. 380
• His Piety, ii. 412

• Gale, Theophilus, ii. 255
• Garroway, Alderman, i. 257, 409
• Gataker, ii. 199
• Gauden, Dr. John, ii. 201
• Geddes, Jenny, i. 105
• Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, ii. 445
• Giles, Dr., i. 281
• Gillespie, i. 329, 406; ii. 226
• Gilpin, Bernard and Richard, ii. 288
• Glynne, i. 60, 330
• Godeman, Casper, ii. 483
• Goffe, Major-General, ii. 116
• Goodman, Godfrey, ii. 302
• Goodwin, Thomas, i. 332, 343, 418; ii. 97, 100, 255, 284
• Gookin, Captain, ii. 466
• Gouge, Dr., i. 295
• Gourney, Alderman, i. 188
• Grand Remonstrance debated by Commons, i. 179, 180
• Discussion about Printing, 183
• Presented to the King, 191
• Greenhill, i. 217, 375
• Greenwood, Congregational Pastor, i. 353-355
• Greenwood, Dr. Daniel, ii. 256
• Grenville, Sir B., ii. 416
• Greville, i. 77
• Grimston, Sir Harbottle, i. 82, 85, 97, 113, 529
• Grindal, i. 21, 41, 42, 319
• Grotius, Hugh, i. 401
• Gunning, Peter, ii. 297

• Hacket, Dr. John, i. 142
• Forbidden to use Prayer Book, ii. 296
• Hale, Edward, ii. 121
• Hales, John, i. 336; ii. 300
• Hall, Joseph, i. 322
• His Tract on Episcopacy, 128
• His Speech, 144
• Translated from Exeter to Norwich, 186
• His Account of Riots, 203
• Remainder of his Life, ii. 305
• Hall, Thomas, ii. 197
• Hammond, i. 519, 527
• His Friendship for Sanderson, ii. 324
• His Letters, 330
• His Death, 333
• His Piety, 411, 436
• Hampden, John, i. 63, 66, 68, 72, 75, 82, 152, 184, 221, 241, 455; ii. 159
• Raises Volunteers, i. 240
• Wounded, 281
• His Last Moments, 281
• Burial, 282, 283
• Hardy, Dr. Nathaniel, ii. 301
• Harley, Sir Robert, i. 152
• Harley, Lady, ii. 424
• Harrington, Sir James, Attends the King at Holdenby, i. 515
• Harris, Dr. Robert, i. 329; ii. 256
• Harrison, Major-General, i. 464; ii. 55, 58, 62, 70, 98
• Harrison, Dr. Thomas, ii. 226
• Hartford, Marquis of, i. 203
• Hartlib, ii. 162, 289
• Haselrig, Sir Arthur, i. 65, 146, 149, 241, 521; ii. 1, 98, 131, 159, 288
• Haynes, Major-General, ii. 114
• Helme, ii. 296
• Henderson, Alexander, visits London, i. 107, 118
• In Scotland, 167
• One of the Commissioners sent to treat with the King, 264
• Declaration written by Him, 293
• His Controversies with the King, 470
• Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles I., i. 136, 187
• Henry, Matthew, i. 533
• Henry, Philip, i. 533; ii. 255, 260
• Herbert, George, i. 10
• His Dying Confession, ii. 409
• His Hymns, 410
• Herle, Charles, i. 329
• Herrick, ii. 168
• Hide, David, i. 199
• Hill, Dr. Thomas, ii. 274
• Hill, Joseph, ii. 288
• Hitch, i. 319
• Hobart, i. 82
• Hobart, Lady Frances, her Christian Character, ii. 427
• Holland, Lord, i. 76
• Holland, Sir John, i. 85
• Holles, Denzil, i. 60, 82, 115, 134, 148, 330
• A Leader in Parliamentary Army, 240
• Declares Petition from Army Seditious, 516
• Hollister, Dennis, ii. 52
• Hook, William, ii. 402
• Hooker, i. 43, 129
• Hopton, Sir Ralph, afterwards Lord, i. 191, 192, 380
• Hotham, Sir John, i. 246
• Houghton, Lady Mary, her Piety, ii. 426
• Howe, John, ii. 93, 185, 218, 220
• Cromwell's Court Chaplain, 221
• His faithful Preaching, 222
• His Correspondence with Baxter, 223
• His Life at Court, 402
• Howell, Francis, ii. 222
• Howell, Thomas, i. 209, 210
• Hoyle, Dr., ii. 256
• Hunt, Robert, ii. 446
• Hunton, Philip, ii. 287
• Hutchinson, Colonel, i. 315, 437, 534
• His Wife, i. 322, 461, 534
• Hyde, Lord Clarendon, i. 62, 69, 77, 79, 126, 148, 153, 157, 183, 185, 226, 239, 267, 285, 374, 516, 518; ii. 503

• Independents, i. 101
• In the Westminster Assembly, 273
• Court Party Intrigues with them, 305
• How they regarded the Covenant, 323
• Their Discussion with Presbyterians, 334
• Principles of Toleration, 342
• Early Churches, 348
• Method of Worship, 364
• Term first applied, 365
• Two Classes of them, 367
• "In-churching," 370
• Favour Toleration, 419
• Debates in Assembly, 439
• Their view of the Assembly, 452
• Contention with Presbyterians, 504
• The King in their hands, 519
• Cromwell aims at their Reconciliation with Presbyterians, 520
• As Religious Sect not to Blame for Death of Charles, 534
• Political Independents assume Supremacy in State, ii. 1
• Spread of Independents, 51
• Their Churches, 207
• Connection with State, 209
• Ministers, 216
• In Scotland, 225
• In Ireland, 226
• Occupy Cathedrals, 228
• At Oxford, 275
• Manner of Receiving Lord's Supper, 392
• Ireson, Sir Bryan, i. 249
• Ireton, i. 437, 519; ii. 7
• Irish, Insurrection, i. 212
• Covenant Imposed on them, 323
• The King agrees to a Truce with them, 376

• Jackson, i. 38
• Jacob, Henry, i. 357
• James I., i. 13, 46; ii. 474
• Jenkyn, William, ii. 45, 183
• Jermyn, Sir Robert, i. 350
• Jessy, Henry, ii. 239
• Jews, ii. 504
• Johnson, i. 353, 357
• Joyce, Cornet, i. 519
• Juxon, Bishop of London, i. 3, 527
• With Charles I. at his Execution, 531
• At Burial of the King, 535
• Retires to Little Compton till the Restoration, ii. 308

• Kiffin, William, ii. 235
• Killaloe, Bishop of, i. 409
• King, i. 186; ii. 308
• Knightley, Sir Richard, i. 75
• Knollys, Hanserd, ii. 245
• Knox, i. 99, 104

• Lambert, Major-General, ii. 55, 134
• Lambeth MSS., ii. 9
• Lamot, John, ii. 421
• Lane, Thomas, ii. 457
• Lapthorne, i. 50
• Lathrop, i. 258, 364
• Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, i. 3, 27, 30, 80, 313
• His Dream, 32
• His Activity, 33
• Impeached, 91
• The Et cetera Oath, 97
• His Address to the Clergy, 98
• Visits Scotland, 104
• What he thought of Committee on Innovations, 121
• Articles against him, 160
• Sent to the Tower, 161
• Effects of his Policy, 223
• His Trial, 395
• His Defence, 397
• Bill of Attainder Passed, 399
• Question as to Justice of Sentence, 400
• Advised to Escape, 401
• On the Scaffold, 401
• His Character, 402
• When Chancellor of Oxford, 496
• His Colonial Policy, ii. 455
• His Correspondence with Durie and Sir Thomas Roe, 484
• Laurence, Dr., his friendship for Walton, i. 499
• Laurence, Lord President, ii. 133
• Law, William, ii. 285
• Leighton, i. 26, 80
• Lenthall, i. 2, 59, 505; ii. 11
• Leslie, Leader of Scotch Army, i. 243
• At Marston Moor, 425
• At Dunbar, ii. 37
• At Worcester, 43
• Levellers, ii. 11
• Lightfoot, Dr., An Erastian, i. 331; ii. 275-277
• Lilburne, i. 80; ii. 244
• Locke, John, ii. 255, 260
• Advocates Toleration, i. 346
• Lockier, Protector's Chaplain, ii. 73, 154, 292, 402
• London, Apprentices, i. 136, 197, 201
• Church Politics in London, 257
• Citizens Support Presbyterianism, 259
• Excitement in London, 288
• Corporation Banquet, 307, 311
• Bonfire of Papistical Trinkets, 312
• Corporation's Remonstrance to Parliament, 509
• They Petition for the Covenant, 510
• Long, i. 82
• Lords, House of, i. 90
• Complaints of Puritans, 118
• Committee of Innovations, 119
• Star Chamber Bill, 127
• Solemn Vow and Protestation Taken by them, 133
• Object to its Universal Enforcement, 134
• Bill Rendering Parliament Indissoluble, 135
• Bill for Restraining Bishops, 144
• Bill for Abolition of Episcopacy, 148
• Conference between the Two Houses, 150
• Articles Against Laud, 160
• Articles of Impeachment against the Thirteen Bishops, 163
• Disagree with Commons concerning Innovations, 171
• The Bishops' Protestation, 203
• Bishops Summoned, 205
• Excluded from the House, 207
• Bill for Abolition of Episcopacy Passed, 262
• Bill against Pluralities, 263
• Debate on Answer to Scotch Petition, 267
• Propositions for Peace, 288
• Present at City Banquet, 308
• Pass Bill of Attainder against Laud, 399
• Direct the Assembly to Prepare a Form for Ordination, 417
• Loudon, Earl of, i. 264
• Louis XIII. offers his services as Mediator, i. 232
• Louis XIV., Cromwell's Despatches to him, ii. 492, 499
• Love, Christopher, i. 413
• Imprisoned, ii. 45
• His Trial, 46
• His Execution, 48
• Lucy, Lady, of Charlcot, ii. 426
• Ludlow, i. 62, 437, 520
• Lunsford, Colonel, i. 198

• Maitland, Lord, i. 311
• Mandeville, Viscount, i. 77
• Manton, ii. 48, 154
• Manwaring, Dr. i. 29; ii. 308
• Marshall, Stephen, i. 91, 152, 170, 250, 259, 289, 303, 308, 329, 472, 488, 527
• Marten, Henry, i. 68, 71; ii. 1-6, 18, 159
• Marten, Sir Henry, i. 361
• Martin, i. 495
• Martindale, Adam, ii. 171
• Massey, i. 330, 437
• Mather, Samuel, ii. 226
• Maxwell, i. 90
• Maydstone, ii. 231
• Maynard, i. 60, 262, 330, 395
• Mazarin, ii. 135
• Mead, Matthew, ii. 218
• Milletiere, M. de la, ii. 314
• Milton, i. 341
• Joins in Controversy on Episcopacy, 128, 129
• His Character compared with Owen's, ii. 431
• His Letters on behalf of the Piedmontese, 493
• Minshall, Dr., ii. 275
• Monmouth, Earl of, i. 207
• Montague, Bishop, i. 162, 223
• Montague, Lord, ii. 416
• Montrose, i. 166; ii. 33
• More, Dr. Henry, i. 340; ii. 279
• Morland, Dr. Samuel, ii. 492, 496, 498, 501
• Morley, Dr., i. 449, 519; ii. 319
• Morton, Bishop of Durham, ii. 306
• Moulin, Lewis de, ii. 256
• Muggleton, ii. 369
• Murcot, John, ii. 227

• Naylor, James, ii. 363, 365
• His Trial, 133
• Nelson, ii. 295
• Newark, Lord, i. 145
• Newcastle, Earl of, i. 284
• Newcome, Henry, ii. 173
• Nicholas, Sir Edward, i. 188, 230, 414
• Northumberland, Earl of, i. 264
• Nye, Philip, i. 273, 289, 292, 295, 305, 332, 420, 489; ii. 100, 217, 224, 392

• Ogle, Sergeant Major, i. 305-307
• Omens, Supernatural, i. 238
• Orange, Prince of, i. 131; ii. 22, 71
• Order of the Garter Disappears, ii. 290
• Osbolston, Lambert, i. 488
• Owen, John, i. 459, 496, 534; ii. 96, 284
• One of Committee for Toleration, 100
• Preaches at Opening of Cromwell's Second Parliament, 131
• Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, 249
• His Interview with Cromwell, 249
• His Speeches, 251
• His Criticism of Walton's Polyglott, 264
• His Character compared with Milton's, 431
• His Impression of the Religion of the Times, 438
• Owen, John, Bishop of St. Asaph, ii. 308
• Owen, Morgan, Bishop of Llandaff, i. 210
• Oxenstiern, ii. 485
• Oxford University, i. 373, 496
• Defiance of Parliament, 497
• Military Occupation, 497
• Parliamentary Commissioners, 498
• Opposition to them, 500
• Owen Vice-Chancellor, ii. 249
• University Costume, 253
• Celebrities, 254
• Loyalty to Protector, 260
• Compared with Cambridge, 284
• Oyley D', ii. 477

• Pack, Captain Michael, ii. 470
• Pagitt, ii. 365
• Palmer, Jeffrey, i. 183
• Palmer, Thomas, Army Chaplain, i. 461
• Palmer, Thomas, ii. 212
• Parker, i. 7, 42
• Parliament.  Long Parliament Opened, i. 1
• Members, 59
• Debate on the Canons, 95
• Et Cetera Oath, 97
• Vow and Protestation, 134
• Innovations, 171
• The Militia, 232
• Reformation of the Church, 235
• Parliamentary Declaration, 255
• Answer to Scotch Assembly, 261
• Ecclesiastical Propositions, 265
• Enforcement of Covenant, 320, 516
• Bill Against Barrowists and Brownists, 355
• Control of Church Property, 385
• Establish the Directory and Prohibit Prayer Book, 404
• Commissioners at Uxbridge, 412
• Their Propositions, 414
• Further Propositions for Peace, 471
• Committee for Determining Cases of Scandal, 478
• Quarrel with the Army, 528
• Acts for Spoliation of the Church, ii. 9
• For Maintenance of Ministers, 10
• Against Licentiousness of the Press, 11
• Enforce Engagement, 14
• Moral Legislation, 15
• Dissolution of Long Parliament, 50
• Little Parliament Convened, ii. 51
• Marriage Law, 56
• Tithes, 57
• Members Resign their Power into Cromwell's hands, 65
• Character of Little Parliament, 76
• First Protectorate Parliament Summoned, ii. 96
• Dissolved, 103
• Second Protectorate Parliament, ii. 131
• Humble Petition and Advice, 138
• Approbation of Public Preachers, 146
• Ordinance for Ejecting Ministers, 146
• Administration of Oaths to Recusants, 147
• Tithes, 147
• Catechising, 149
• Sabbath Observance, 151
• Re-assembling of Parliament, 156
• Dissolution, 162
• Parliamentary Army, its Character, i. 241, 374
• Re-modelled, 427, 455
• Its Success, 429
• Disorderly Soldiers, 455
• Chaplains, 456
• Petitions Parliament, 516
• Quarrels with Parliament, 528
• Anxious for Extreme Ecclesiastical Measures, ii. 8
• Discontented with New Rulers, 11
• Parson, ii. 298
• Patrick, Simon, ii. 279
• Pell, John, ii. 489, 491
• Pennington, i. 93, 103, 109, 114; ii. 511
• Penry, i. 356; ii. 225
• Peters, Hugh, i. 460, 532; ii. 402
• Peterson, Dean of Exeter, ii. 324
• Petty, Sir William, ii. 289
• Piedmontese, Persecution of the Protestants by the Duke of Savoy, ii. 490
• Cromwell's Interference on their Behalf, 494
• Collections for them in England, 495
• Pilkington, Bishop of Durham, i. 42
• Pleydell, i. 114, 148
• Pocock, Dr. Edward, ii. 109, 256, 264, 481
• Popery, i. 49, 55, 133, 136, 162, 177, 180, 212, 236, 293, 374
• Powell, Vavasour, ii. 68, 70, 115, 243
• Prayer Book, i. 124, 197, 258, 404
• MS. ii. 340
• Presbyterians, Clergy, i. 163
• Numerous in London, 228
• Majority in Assembly, 273, 329
• Attachment to League and Covenant, 321
• Controversy with Independents, 334, 505
• Their dependence on Scotch Army, 437
• Negotiate with the King, 473
• Presbyterians at Norwich, 505
• Difficulty with the Army, 515
• Loyalty to the King, 529
• Not to Blame for Execution of Charles, 534
• Denounce New Rulers, ii. 12
• Intrigue with Prince Charles, 25
• In Cromwell's First Parliament, 96
• Their Form of Church Government, 165
• Presbyterians in Lancashire, 167
• In London, 174, 182
• Occupy Cathedrals, 228
• At Cambridge, 274
• Manner of receiving the Lord's Supper, 392
• Prideaux, Dr., i. 211, 251, 272
• Pride's Purge, i. 531
• Prynne, i. 26, 80, 330, 369, 395, 400, 444, 529; ii. 504
• Puritanism, its Antiquity, i. 39
• Under Elizabeth, 41, 45
• Doctrinal and Ecclesiastical, 46
• A Reaction against Anglicanism, 52
• Its Onesidedness, 56
• Puritans, their Conscientious Scruples, i. 48
• Imprisoned and Exiled, 50
• Petition against Popery, 231
• Desire a Free Synod, 270
• Sufferings of their Clergy, 431
• Their Inner Church life, and Home Retirement, ii. 371, et seq.
• Pury, Alderman, i. 155
• Pym, John.i. 65, 75, 78, 87, 113, 115, 132, 152, 257; ii. 159
• His Speech against Popery, 83
• Accuses Strafford of Treason, 89
• Supports Bill against Bishops, 179
• A Member of the Assembly, 272
• His Death, 301
• Funeral, 302

• Quakers, Rise of Quakerism, ii. 349
• Formed into a Sect, 359
• Preachers, 359
• Suspicions against Quakerism, 360
• Persecuted, 362
• Quarles, ii. 415
• Quin, i. 235

• Radcliffe, ii. 34
• Rallingson, Richard, i. 372
• Rawlinson, MSS., i. 26, 80, 359
• Reeve, ii. 369
• Reynolds, Sir John, ii. 146
• Reynolds, Dr., i. 449, 496; ii. 249, 481
• Rich, Earl of Warwick, i. 77
• Rich, Earl of Holland, i. 77
• Rippon, Roger, i. 356
• Rives, Dr. Thomas, i. 362
• Roberts, Lord, i. 133
• Robins, John, ii. 369
• Roborough, Henry, i. 278
• Roe, Sir Thomas, ii. 480, 486
• Rogers, John, ii. 227
• Roman Catholics, in Ireland, i. 212, 218, 231, 376
• In the Army, 242
• Charles I. Intrigues with them, 475
• Their Intrigues with Prince Charles, ii. 27
• Deprived of Religious Freedom, 90, 479
• Excluded from Parliament, 98
• Lawyers and Priests, 122
• Intrigues, 315
• Roundhead, Origin of Title, i. 199
• Rouse, i. 330
• His Version of the Psalms, 451; ii. 393
• Speaker of Little Parliament, 54
• His Death, 291
• Rowe, Colonel Owen, ii. 474
• Royalists, their Army, i. 242
• Their Lawlessness, 253
• At Brentford, 255
• At Bradford, 283
• At Gloucester, 284
• At Bristol, 288
• At Oxford, 373
• At Leicester, 427
• Sufferings of Royalist Clergy, 431
• Royalist Plots, ii. 110
• Persecution of their Clergy, 111
• In Bermudas, 474
• Rudyard, i. 60, 85, 113, 155, 272, 330
• Rupert, Prince, i. 247
• At Harborough, 250
• At Chalgrove Field, 281
• At Oxford, 373
• At Marston Moor, 425
• At Naseby, 428
• Russel, Sir William, i. 252
• Rutherford, i. 329

• St. John, Oliver, i. 64, 149, 179, 272, 330; ii. 1
• Saltmarsh, John, i. 462
• Sancroft, i. 492; ii. 266
• Sanderson, i. 519; ii. 436
• His Friendship for Hammond, ii. 324
• Savoy, Duke of, ii. 490
• Say and Sele, Lord, i. 75, 77, 145
• Leader in Parliamentary Army, 241
• His Exhortation to the Citizens, 254
• Proposes Dissolution of Assembly, 444
• Sayle, ii. 475
• Scotch, i. 166, 400, 406, 408; ii. 32, 225
• Their Army, i. 105
• Commissioners, 107, 308
• Desire for Unity of Religion, 165
• Treaty, 166
• Promote Presbyterianism in England, 228
• Offer to be Mediators between the King and his Subjects, 232
• Commissioners at Windsor, 232
• Anxiety for Abolition of Episcopacy, 261
• Desire for Union between the Two Countries, 263
• Send Commissioners to Treat with the King, 264
• Their Failure, 268
• League and Covenant, 291
• Treaty with the English, 297
• Army in England, 424
• Its Unpopularity, 438
• Negotiations, 513
• Proclaim Prince Charles King, ii. 21
• Send Commissioners to the Hague, 23
• Controversy as to whether they should Fight against Cromwell, 38
• Crown Prince Charles, 39
• Remonstrators and Resolutionists, 41, 117
• Army with Charles in England, 42
• Seaman, Dr. Lazarus, i. 329, 527; ii. 274
• Searle, Colonel Daniel, ii. 470, 472
• Sects, i. 190
• Their Increase, 188
• and Activity, 228
• Numbers Exaggerated, ii. 365
• Sedgwick, Obadiah, i. 250; ii. 229
• Sedgwick, John, i. 250
• Selden, John, i. 69, 82, 272, 330
• Shelden, i. 519
• Sherlock, Dr. Richard, ii. 301
• Sherman, ii. 115
• Sibbs, i. 53
• Sibthorpe, i. 29
• Sideserfe, i. 252
• Sidney, Algernon, i. 437
• Simpson, Sydrach, i. 332, 334; ii. 100, 269, 275
• Sindercombe's Plot, ii. 137
• Sion College, ii. 175-179
• Skinner, i. 186; ii. 308
• Skippon, i. 255, 437
• Slingsby, His Letters, i. 189, 193, 195, 200, 205
• Smith, i. 178
• Smith, John, ii. 279
• Smith, Captain John, ii. 446
• South, Robert, ii. 255, 261
• Southampton, Earl of, i. 133
• Spang, i. 298; ii. 22
• Spinage, William, ii. 287
• Sprigg, Joshua, i. 428, 456, 459; ii. 365
• Spurstow, Dr., i. 241, 281; ii. 277
• Stapleton, i. 330
• Staunton, Dr. Edmund, ii. 256
• Sterne, i. 495
• Sterry, Cromwell's Chaplain, ii. 402, 516, 520
• Stoughton, Dr., ii. 456
• Stoupe, ii. 503
• Strafford, i. 27, 29
• His Thorough Policy, 36, 78
• Arrives in London, 86
• Impeached, 89
• Goes to the House, 90
• How his Attainder may be Regarded, 137
• His Execution, 141
• Strange, Lord, i. 243
• Strangways, Sir John, i. 115
• Strickland, Sir William, ii. 148
• Strode, Sir Richard and Sir John, i. 26
• Stubbe, Henry, ii. 257
• Stukely, Lewis, ii. 228
• Suffolk, Countess of, ii. 424
• Sutton, Dr., i. 39

• Tawney, ii. 369
• Taylor, Jeremy, i. 56, 337, 379; ii. 322
• Terry, Edward, ii. 480
• Thomas, William, i. 154
• Thorndike, Herbert, ii. 335
• Thurloe, Secretary of State, ii. 117-122, 489, 491, 498, 511, 512
• Tillinghurst, ii. 62
• Tithes, i. 367, 389
• Rights of Tithe Property, 486
• Government Refuse to Abolish Tithes, ii. 8
• Parliament considers Question of Tithes, 50
• Report of Tithe Committee, 59
• Toleration—Principles of Independent and Episcopalian Toleration compared, i. 335
• Episcopalian Writers on the Subject, 335-340
• Independent Writers on Toleration, 341-345
• Limits of Toleration, ii. 100
• Toleration in England, under Cromwell, 143
• Tombes, John, ii. 238
• Tomlinson, ii. 55
• Towers, John, i. 210
• Travers, i. 43, 100
• Trelawne, ii. 416
• Tuckney, Dr., ii. 275
• Twiss, Dr., i. 275, 292, 311, 328

• Ussher, i. 125, 128, 140, 186, 376, 378, 527, 532; ii. 303, 304