The last ten years of the seventeenth century witnessed the
consolidation of Dissent. Growing in confidence, Dissenters made
bolder ventures. If some old congregations melted away in villages,
where an ejected clergyman had worn out his days, or where the
original supporters had died without bequeathing their opinions,
together with their property, new congregations were formed in towns,
where population gave scope for activity, and social freedom aided
religious effort. Preachers with a roving commission settled down
into local pastors, and a spirit of enterprise appeared in building
places of worship. Nonconformists had for some time amidst hindrance
and irritation been digging again the wells of their fathers, stopped
by the Philistines; but the days of strife were so far over that
they could say: “Now the Lord hath made room for us, and we shall be
fruitful in the land;” yet such names as Rehoboth and Beersheba, so
often ridiculed, were not used by them as by some of their descendants
of later date.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
As to the erection of religious edifices in London, it may be
mentioned that about the era of the Revolution one was erected in Zoar
Street, another in Gravel Lane, and a third in Hare Court.[485] The
neglected Halls of City Companies had become available for Dissenting
worship, and by economical alterations were transformed into houses
of prayer. Turners’ Hall fell into the hands of the General Baptists
about the year 1688; soon afterwards the Presbyterians erected “a
large substantial brick building of a square form, with four deep
galleries, and capable of seating a considerable congregation.”[486]
Chapels, as we should call them--but the name was not used by the early
Nonconformists--arose in Fair Street, Southwark; in Meeting-house
Court, Blackfriars; in the Old Barbican, beyond Aldersgate; and over
the King’s Weigh-House, Little Eastcheap. At the end of the century,
the Presbyterians provided a moderate-sized wooden building with one
gallery in King John’s Court, in the parish of St. Mary Magdalen,
Bermondsey. About the same period, the Independents provided a place of
worship in Rosemary Lane; and soon afterwards a large and substantial
edifice was built by Presbyterians in the Old Jewry, Aldgate. It is
remarkable that, after the Act of Toleration had been passed some
years, liberty seemed of so precarious a nature, that to enjoy it
concealment was necessary. Private houses, therefore, were in this case
erected between the meeting-house and the street, that the former might
be screened from public view.[487]
Nonconformists in the provinces imitated Nonconformists in London.
Bath, then at the head of English watering-places, though still a city
much occupied by clothiers, had a congregation which before had been
wont to meet in “a shear-shop,” but now dared to come into open day,
and to build in Frog Lane, afterwards New Bond Street. In the pleasant
neighbourhood of Shepton Mallet, people who had assembled in the
green woods now erected chapels in the town and adjacent villages. The
Warminster people raised a meeting-house at the cost of £487 2s. 7d.,
the sum being obtained partly by subscription and partly by the sale of
pews and seats, which became the property of the purchasers, and were
accordingly sold and bequeathed.[488]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Turning to midland counties, we find that at Nottingham--where
Nonconformists had met in rock cellars such as honeycombed the sand
formation, and are now formed into a cemetery--Presbyterians registered
rooms in Bridlesmith Gate, and the Independents sought shelter in
Postern Place. A few months after William’s accession, the former set
to work upon a meeting-house in the High Pavement, and the latter
cautiously attempted a smaller edifice at Castlegate. Little leaded
windows admitted light through diamond panes; two pillars sprang from
the floor to support the ceiling; stairs rising within led up to a
small front gallery; a sounding-board covered the pulpit; and square
pews, with other accommodation, provided for about 450 people.[489]
At Chester a new edifice, still in existence, carefully preserved,
and not long ago tastefully restored, cost £532 16s. 1d. It was opened
in August, 1700, when Matthew Henry preached from a text indicating an
apologetic spirit for what was thought a daring enterprise: “The Lord
God of Gods, the Lord God of Gods, He knoweth, and Israel He shall
know, if it be in rebellion, or if it be in transgression against the
Lord, that we have built us an altar.”
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
At Daventry, in Northamptonshire, Dissent made a humble advance, but
under circumstances so interesting as to deserve notice. The origin
of the church there forms one of the legends which in the following
century became dear to many. When Charles II. was on the throne, it
happened that a minister put up on his way to London at the sign of the
Old Swan. He was taken ill and detained for more than a week, during
which period the host and his family paid him kind attentions and
completely won his heart. The traveller, restored to health, summoned
into his room the kind-hearted people, thanked them for their great
civility, and expressed his satisfaction at the order maintained in
the house--an exceptional instance in days when hostelries were given
over to unrestrained indulgence and boisterous merriment. He added:
“Something leads me to suspect there is not the fear of God among you,
and it grieves me to see such honest civility, economy, and decency,
and yet religion wanting--the one thing needful.” He entered into
conversation, and closed by telling them he had in his saddlebag a
little book, which he begged them to accept, requesting that they would
carefully read it. Having presented them with Baxter’s _Poor Man’s
Family Book_, he went on his way without telling them who he was,
nor did they ever ascertain his name, but they felt a suspicion the
stranger was no other than Baxter himself. The result of reading this
and other works by the same author was that the innkeeper and some of
his family became Nonconformists. Weary of his mode of life and having
acquired a competence, he retired to a house having a close behind
it, at the extremity of which stood some humble outbuildings. These
after the Revolution he converted into a legalized meeting-house. His
neighbours came, a congregation was established, and a pastor chosen.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Places of worship were put in trust. Presbyterians drew up their deeds
in general terms, not enumerating articles of faith or referring to
any ecclesiastical standard. In many cases, Congregational edifices
were secured in a similar way, some schedule being annexed to the deed,
declaring that the structure should be used by such Protestants in
the neighbourhood as could not conform to the established religion.
Whatever might be the policy ruling the arrangement, the selection of
ministers, and the character of their preaching, in numerous cases
still easily ascertained, betrayed no indifference as to what is
esteemed orthodoxy of sentiment.[490]
Energies which resisted persecution did not expire in the midst of
freedom, although Bishop Burnet predicted “that Nonconformity could not
last long, and that after Baxter, Bates, and Howe were laid in their
graves, it would die of itself.” The last of these, on hearing the
prophecy, remarked to the Bishop, “that its existence depended much
more on principles than persons”--an opinion verified by subsequent
facts.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
The Presbyterians formed the largest, and, in point of social position,
the most respectable branch of English Nonconformists in the reign of
William. What most indicated their persistency and hope is discovered
in their numerous ordinations. Down to the time of the Revolution
they had been privately conducted. Just as the Prince of Orange was
being driven back to his native shores by untoward storms, a young man
named Joseph Hussey, who had been preaching for eight years, sought
the rite from the hands of Dr. Annesley and other Presbyterians. Not
in the meeting-house of Little St. Helen’s did the parties dare to
assemble, but at the Doctor’s “private dwelling in Spitalfields, in an
upper chamber.” There, on the 24th of October, 1688, the candidate,
as he himself reports, was examined “in the parts of learning by
the Elder, who took the chair and spoke in Latin.” The next day he
defended a thesis against the Papacy. Upon the 26th he was ordained.
The proceedings were begun and finished within the same chamber, in
a neighbourhood then losing the last vestiges of rural life under
the encroachments of weavers, driven from France by the revocation
of the Edict of Nantes.[491] As another instance of the privacy of
Nonconformist services, I would mention that the Lord’s Supper was
not publicly celebrated in the new chapel in Leeds until the month of
October, 1692.[492]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Ordinations emerged from private habitations when, in September,
1689, five ministers were ordained by Oliver Heywood and four of
his brethren, after a notice had been given that the service would
be held in the meeting-house at Alverthorpe, “to which whoever had a
desire might repair.” One of the candidates stood behind a chair, and
poured out a Latin discourse, which seemed to be _extempore_, but
which Heywood believed to be _memoriter_, upon the validity of
Presbyterian orders. This person behaved in an extraordinary manner the
next day, for he was seen “walking in a lane, reading a book,” whilst
the ordaining ministers were waiting for his appearance. After he had
arrived, and had given in his confession, “running through the whole
body of Divinity, according to Mr. Baxter’s _Methodus Theologiæ_,
we proceeded,” says Heywood, “to setting the candidates apart. I came
down, and there being a void space made, we made them kneel down, one
by one, while we all prayed over them.” This was succeeded by the
imposition of hands, the delivery of a Bible, the grasp of fellowship,
a charge to the ordained, and a sermon to the congregation. The
ministers assembled at eight o’clock, waited till ten for the eccentric
youth, and did not terminate the service before five in the afternoon,
when a dinner followed, at the charge of the ordained.
Another service occurred in 1690, with accompaniments still more
unseemly, the misbehaviour now being on the part of ordainers. The
service took place at Rathmel in Yorkshire. Oliver Heywood and other
Presbyterians came to share in the solemnity with two Independent
ministers. Strange as it appears, those who thus met had not agreed
what should be done; and one of the Independents, as Heywood reports,
urged objections which the Presbyterians undertook to answer. He
objected, amongst other things, that messengers from neighbouring
churches were not present, and that the minister in this case would
not be, as he ought, ordained in the midst of the congregation he
intended to serve. Both the Independents were desired to pray,
but they refused, “and sat by the whole day taking no part in the
proceedings.” The service, however, was decorously enough conducted
by the Presbyterians, who, touching the heads of the candidates,
offered prayer, and after presenting a Bible, gave the right hand of
fellowship. Heywood preached to the candidates and to the people,
and the whole ended with singing and prayer. If anybody had wished
to prejudice orderly people against Nonconformity, he could not have
followed a more effectual method than we find pursued by Independents
on this occasion.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
A few Presbyterians attempted to revive synodical action, and a
meeting with that view at Newbury created much stir--displeasing
Nonconformists, who regarded it as injudicious, and provoking
Churchmen, who urged it was unjust. Convocation remained in shackles;
why, then, should Presbyterian Synods be free?[493] This question was
asked, in forgetfulness of the obvious difference relative to the state
of voluntary churches on the one hand, and endowed churches on the
other.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
As ministers could not continue by reason of death, it became
necessary to reinforce the ranks. One young student of honourable
descent made his appearance in public life at this juncture. Edmund
Calamy--grandson of the Divine of the same name, who had been
Incumbent of Aldermanbury--after studying in Holland, where he had
accumulated stores of Dutch theology, returned to his native land,
and went down to Oxford, where he devoted himself to the study of
the question, whether he should enter the Church, or continue his
lot with Dissenters? Certainly if anybody ever gave himself to the
investigation of the subject, young Edmund did--for, first, he studied
the Bible; then he read several of the Fathers, with all sorts of
critical helps; then he perused Pearson, on the Ignatian Epistles,
as well as Monsieur Daillé and Larroque on the other side; then he
betook himself to the examination of Chillingworth’s _Religion of
Protestants_, which he carefully epitomized; then he attacked
Hooker’s _Ecclesiastical Polity_, and went through it book by
book, setting down the arguments with such remarks as they suggested;
then he turned to Jeremy Taylor’s _Ductor Dubitantium_, dealing
with this as he had done with the rest; and, lastly, with care he
read over the Articles, Liturgy, Homilies, and Canons of the Church
of England.[494] Such an amount of reading for the settlement of
opinion was very well for a youth of twenty-one, and, making allowance
for a bias derived from family traditions and from the ugly memories
of 1662, we must credit him with candour in looking at the subject
on all sides. According to his own account, his reading was chiefly
in favour of Episcopacy; yet his conclusion was decidedly in favour
of Nonconformity. The Nonconformity which he adopted, however, was
moderate; it shrunk neither from Episcopal orders, Liturgical worship,
nor the Establishment principle, but from certain things enforced by
the Church of England. He tells us himself that he would have received
ordination at the hands of a Bishop, “could he have found anyone that
would not have demanded a subscription and engagement to conformity,
and a subjection to the present ecclesiastical government.”[495]
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
It is remarkable to find how much this young man engaged in preaching
when he had made up his mind upon ecclesiastical points. He occupied
pulpits wherever they were open. He seems to have been welcomed
everywhere--now officiating at the opening of a meeting-house, and
once at least preaching in a parish church.[496] He had conflicting
invitations. He describes a visit to Andover, where the meeting-house
was in a back yard, through which he had to pass, the people making a
lane for him and presenting their acknowledgments for his good sermon;
and how he found the parlour full of men, women, and children--amongst
them was a grave old woman with a high-crowned hat, who thanked him
civilly for his pains, telling him she thought a special Providence
had sent such a shepherd to such neglected sheep. The conversation,
however, as it went on proved less and less satisfactory, since
it turned out that these Andover folks were divided into parties,
the old lady’s Calvinistic sentiments being loftier even than her
steeple headgear.[497] Calamy travelled down to Bristol, the great
Nonconformist stronghold in the west, to preach to a congregation
of 1,500 people, and was met at Bath by a couple of gentlemen,
“with a man and horse,” to conduct him to his destination. Upon the
road others came to welcome the stranger, like the brethren who met
Paul at Appii-Forum, and brought him on his way “in a manner very
respectful.” Many of the congregation were wealthy, and they offered
him £100 a year and a house to live in, as assistant to their infirm
pastor. But, upon returning to London, Calamy decided on accepting
an invitation to assist Mr. Sylvester upon an allowance of £40 per
annum.[498] He had there the counterbalancing advantage of mixing in
the best Nonconformist society. He spent many an evening at the house
of Dr. Upton, in Warwick-court, where he met his colleague and Mr.
Lorimer, Mr. John Shower, Mr. Nathaniel Taylor, Mr. Thomas Kentish, Mr.
Nathaniel Oldfield--names now little known, but celebrities in their
own day. Other ministerial meetings were kept up in Dr. Annesley’s
vestry, Little St. Helen’s, where once a month Latin disputations took
place. Whilst thus engaged, Calamy remained unordained. Desirous of
this rite, he successively requested Howe and Bates to take part in it.
But no public ordination had yet been held within the city precints.
Howe at first seemed pleased with the proposal, but afterwards
demurred, saying he must wait upon Lord Somers, and inquire whether
such a proceeding would not be taken ill at Court. Bates decidedly
declined, and continued to do so for reasons he would not communicate.
Matthew Mead was indirectly asked, but begged to be excused, because,
as an Independent, he feared he might offend some of his brethren by
joining in a Presbyterian ordination. The whole of the transaction is
enveloped in mystery; perhaps Bates had not given up all hopes of a
comprehension, and thought a public ordination might bar the way to it;
perhaps he had given some pledge not to engage in any such service;
perhaps Howe was not quite free from similar determents, and both might
for personal reasons be unwilling to do what they had no objection
should be done by others. My own impression is that both, especially
Howe, clung with tenacity to the idea of one united church in England,
and though they had little hope of seeing the idea turned into fact,
they shrunk from a service like public ordination as perpetuating a
separation they would fain have seen come to an end.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
At length Calamy and six others were publicly set apart to the
ministry, at Dr. Annesley’s meeting-house, by the Doctor himself,
Vincent Alsop, of Princes Street, Westminster, Daniel Williams, pastor
at Hand Alley, Bishopsgate Street, Richard Stretton, of Haberdashers’
Hall, Matthew Sylvester, of Carter Lane, and Thomas Kentish of the
Weigh-House. Annesley began with prayer; Alsop preached; Williams,
after another prayer, delivered a second sermon; then he read the
testimonials in favour of the candidates; next each of them delivered a
profession of faith; and then, one after another, different ministers
prayed; Sylvester followed with a charge, and concluded with a psalm
and a prayer.[499] The service lasted from before ten o’clock until
past six.
As vacancies in Nonconformist pastorates occurred, successors had to be
appointed; and it is amusing to meet in the Diaries of the day, cross
lights thrown upon the choice of ministers. The famous antiquarian
Thoresby was in 1693 a leading member of the old Dissenting Church at
Leeds. When deprived of its excellent instructor, Mr. Sharp, “we had
several meetings to consult in order to the choice of a successor. I
had the usual hap of moderators, to displease both the extremes. In
the interim I wrote to several ministers to supply his place. We rode
to Ovenden, and made our first application to Mr. Priestly, a person
of moderate principles, learned, ingenious, and pious; but the people
about Halifax and Horton could not be prevailed upon to resign their
interest in him, without which he was not willing to desert them. I
afterwards rode with some of the people to Pontefract, to solicit Mr.
Manlove, who was at first very compliant, yet after relapsed, but in
the conclusion accepted the call and removed to Leeds.”[500]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Glimpses are caught of meeting-house politics. Thoresby received
from his cousin a discouraging account of Mr. Manlove; but when this
candidate visited the people, Thoresby found an unanimous desire for
the man’s coming, testified by proffered subscriptions.[501] After this
person’s settlement at Leeds, the love of Thoresby towards him and the
old Dissent began to cool. His archæological pursuits brought him into
the society of ecclesiastical dignitaries, and he frequently attended
the parish church. By degrees his sympathy with Episcopalians deepened;
he received the sacrament with them--a proceeding which offended
old friends, and produced alienation. Attracted on the one side and
repelled on the other, after hanging for awhile in suspense between
the opposite communities, he found himself drawn into the bosom of the
Establishment. The Corporation elected him one of their fraternity, and
not long afterwards we find him saying: “I received a most comfortable
letter from my Lord Archbishop of York, answering many objections
against my Conformity, and gave me great satisfaction.”[502]
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Fallings-off from Dissent happened in one place, accessions occurred in
another. A clergyman, named Michael Harrison, who had usually preached
at the church in Caversfield, gathered a congregation of Dissenters at
Potterspury, near Stony Stratford, and died a Nonconformist minister at
St. Ives.[503] Amidst the reproaches of High Churchmen at the growth
of Dissent, from Low Churchmen there were received expressions of
goodwill. Hough, Vicar of Halifax, stepped into Heywood’s new place of
worship at Northowram, and putting off his hat, exclaimed: “The good
Lord bless the Word preached in this place!”[504]
The education of boys, and the theological training of those designed
for the ministry, were matters of great anxiety during the reigns of
Charles II. and James II., and afterwards received increasing attention.
Seminaries for Dissenters did not in the seventeenth century attain
the dignified title of colleges. They were schools where youths were
educated for secular vocations, and only by degrees did they become
the resort of candidates for the ministry. There was no trust-deed,
no constituency, no council, but the entire management rested with
the person responsible for opening the institution. In the romantic
district of Craven, Richard Frankland, a learned ejected minister,
received pupils, but the Five-Mile Act drove him to Attercliffe. First
and last he educated three hundred youths for the professions of law
and of medicine, and for the work of the Christian ministry.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Archbishop Sharpe was requested by some of the Clergy to prevent
Frankland from proceeding in his labours. He consulted Tillotson as to
the best method of procedure, and received from him this reply: “His
instructing young men in so public a manner in University learning is
contrary to his oath to do, if he hath taken a degree in either of our
Universities, and I doubt, contrary to the Bishop’s oath to grant him
a licence for doing it; so that your Grace does not, in this matter,
consider him at all as a Dissenter. This I only offer to your Grace
as what seems to me the fairest and softest way of ridding your hands
of this business.” To explain this advice, it is proper to remark,
that in the Middle Ages, factions arose at Oxford and Cambridge, and
hosts of students, under some favourite professors, would march off
to Northampton or Stamford to set up rival schools and grant degrees.
Hence an oath came to be required of the University graduates, that in
no other places than in the favoured retreats on the Isis and the Cam
would they ever establish a scholastic lecture. It was in harmony with
Tillotson’s characteristic wariness to give such counsel, but it is
hardly worthy of his reputation for gentleness and Catholicity to put
the disconcerted Prelate up to the trick of masking the batteries of
intolerance under the specious cover of obsolete precedents.
It should be added, that Archbishop Sharpe behaved very courteously to
Frankland throughout this unpleasant business;[505] and also that other
Dissenting tutors in different ways were hindered by the opposition of
Churchmen.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Two other academies sprung out of Richard Frankland’s--one at
Attercliffe under the superintendence of Timothy Jollie, another
at Manchester under the care of John Chorlton. In the old town of
Shrewsbury, Francis Tallents established a seminary about the time
of the Revolution. At Taunton, Matthew Warren educated several young
gentlemen for the pastorate and for secular occupations. So did Samuel
Birch at an earlier period in Shilton. Joshua Oldfield also kept a
school at Coventry. John Woodhouse, of Sheriff Hales, Shropshire;
George Burden, of Somersetshire; Edmund Thorpe, of Sussex; Joseph
Bennet, of the same county; and Josiah Bassett, of Warwickshire, may be
added to the list of Nonconformist schoolmasters at different dates,
between the ejectment and the end of the century.
The Metropolis drew towards it several learned men in this capacity,
and Newington Green became “the favourite seat of the Dissenting
Muses.” There the learned Theophilus Gale, and the less known but
erudite and able Charles Morton, educated a number of young men. Edward
Veal had a school at Stepney, and Samuel Wesley, after having been a
pupil of Veal’s, became a student under Morton. Violent opposition to
the Established Church is said to have been fostered under Veal’s roof,
and this young man, who possessed a lively poetical talent, answered
invectives against Dissent by invectives against the Church, until,
from some cause which has been differently explained, he abandoned
Nonconformity, and one August morning in 1683, with forty-five
shillings in his pocket, walked all the way to Oxford, and entered
himself as a servitor of Exeter College. Samuel Wesley, in a letter
published in the year 1703, reflected upon the Dissenting academies,
and afterwards defended what he said in a reply to Mr. Palmer. Much
bitterness appeared in Wesley’s pamphlet, and he was accused of
ingratitude for assailing institutions, to one of which he had been
indebted for a gratuitous education. Palmer vindicated the academies
from the charge brought against them; but, by a curious coincidence,
he like Wesley gave up all connection with Dissent, and obtained the
living of Maldon, in Essex.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Thomas Doolittle, of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, and Thomas Vincent,
of Christ Church, Oxford, united in conducting, until within a short
time before his death in 1708, an academy at Islington. Thither Philip
Henry sent his son Matthew, and immediately after his arrival the
young man wrote to his sisters, informing them that in his tutor’s
meeting-house “there are several galleries. It is all pewed, and a
brave pulpit a great height above the people,” adding, in the same
letter: “I perceive that Mr. Doolittle is very studious and diligent,
and that Mrs. Doolittle and her daughter are very fine and gallant.”
During Matthew Henry’s stay at Islington he pursued a course of reading
which bore upon the Christian ministry, but when he left that place he
studied law for a time at Gray’s Inn, although it does not appear that
he ever thought of entering the legal profession. The fact is, that the
elder educated Nonconformists of that day valued all kinds of learning,
and were anxious that their children, especially if designed for the
ministry, should traverse the widest curriculum of study. Further, it
may be mentioned that Ralph Button, fellow and tutor of Merton, Oxford,
who died in 1680, conducted another academy at Islington.
Dissenting academies could not resemble national Universities. A
variety of professors, extensive libraries, aristocratic society were
beyond their reach, and polite literature and the graces of composition
were but little cultivated. Too much time was given to the study of
dead languages--a mistake, indeed, shared by the Universities. A keen
observer, Daniel De Foe, noticed this defect, and pointed out how
absurd it was, that all the time should be spent on the languages which
learning was to be _fetched from_, and none on the language it was
to be _delivered in_. To this error he attributed the fact that
many learned, and otherwise excellent, ministers preached away their
congregations, “while a jingling, noisy boy, that had a good stock
in his face, and a dysentery of the tongue, though he had little or
nothing in his head, should run away with the whole town.”[506]
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Youths of all sorts were admitted into these academies, as into modern
boarding-schools; hence some pupils might be of doubtful character.
Also prejudices against the Church of England would naturally arise.
Amongst the elder pupils the controversies of other days would be
revived, and enthusiastic spirits would tilt a lance on the side
of “the good old cause.” Charles I. and Charles II. would be no
favourites; James II.’s Popery would be denounced; Cromwell would be
excused and praised; and William III. lauded to the skies. In the
common room where students unbent, there might be fun and laughter;
in the private study there might be other volumes than classical and
theological text-books; levity and idleness probably existed in these
gatherings of great boys and young men; and damaging charges, no
doubt, could be substantiated against some of them; but the character
of these maligned institutions must, after all, be judged by their
courses of study, by the character of their professors, and by their
educational results. These tests being applied, lead to a favourable
conclusion. The studies combined logic, metaphysics, and ethics, with
readings in Colbert, Le Clerc, Suarez, More, Cicero, and Epictetus;
natural and political philosophy, with the use of Aristotle, Descartes,
and Vossius; and the perusal of Latin and Greek historians and poets.
Candidates for the pastoral office read Divinity, and studied the Greek
Testament with such critical helps as were afforded in those times. We
are assured that in lectures the Church of England was treated with
respect, the Predestinarian controversy was discussed with moderation,
and Monarchical maxims of government were upheld.[507]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
What the most distinguished teachers were, and what many of the pupils
became, may be seen in preceding pages.
I must not conclude this chapter without stating that as these
academies were interrupted by intolerant laws, common schools also
were subject to the same inconvenience. Cunning methods were sometimes
adopted by schoolmasters, or were alleged to be so, with the view of
overcoming clerical opposition,[508] and occasion was given for the
display of an unseemly spirit even by Bishops otherwise exemplary;
bad mutual relations consequently in many quarters existed between
Churchmen and Nonconformists.