Dissenters cannot be charged with an absorbing attachment to their
distinctive system; they valued more the common truths of Christianity,
but they were prepared to vindicate their own ecclesiastical views
and to repel aspersions. David Clarkson, who had before published
books on Episcopacy, in answer to Stillingfleet, sent forth in 1689
his discourse on Liturgies. The charge of being schismatical, laid
at the doors of Nonconformists, led Matthew Henry to publish in the
same year a _Discourse concerning the Nature of Schism_, in which
he endeavoured to prove, that there may be schism where there is no
separation, and that there may be separation where there is no schism.
The discourse being attacked, William Tong, in the year 1693, came
forward in its defence, maintaining that the want of charity, not the
want of particular ministerial orders, creates sinful schism; and
that to charge the crime upon such Dissenters as cultivate candour,
liberality, and love, is “a piece of diabolism which the Gospel abhors,
and of which humanity itself will be ashamed;” and complained at the
end, “that non-resistance and passive obedience was the universal cry
in the Church, and squeezed till the blood came: but the mischief was,
when they had nursed the prerogative, till it had stung some of them
and hissed at all the rest, they presently let the world see they
never brewed this doctrine for their own drinking.”
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
James Owen, a learned Presbyterian minister, published in 1694 a plea
for Presbyterian ordination, and afterwards composed another essay
in support of his views, showing that neither Timothy nor Titus were
diocesan rulers; that the presbyters of Ephesus, not Timothy and Titus,
were successors to the Apostles in the government of the Church;
that the First Epistle to Timothy was written before the meeting at
Miletus; and that the ancient Waldenses did not acknowledge diocesan
prelates. This course of reasoning is a specimen of the manner in which
Presbyterians were wont to state and defend their own system.
But Nonconformist polemics were not confined to the maintenance of a
common cause; they took an internecine turn, not only in connection
with the Crisp affair, but in connection with occasional conformity.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
By the Corporation Act, everyone holding a municipal office was
required to receive the Lord’s Supper in the Church of England. Sir
John Shorter, a Presbyterian, had by such conformity qualified himself
to act as Lord Mayor of the city of London in the reign of James II.,
and two distinguished Dissenters in the following reign occupied the
same civic post and adopted the same policy. Sir Humphrey Edwin was
Lord Mayor in 1697, and, dressed in a gown of crimson velvet, carried
the city sword before William, as, on his return from the Continent, he
passed through London with the customary pomp of a public procession.
He not only conformed at certain times during his mayoralty, but he
also, on one occasion when he attended Divine Service at Pinners’ Hall
Meeting-house, caused the civic paraphernalia to be carried before him.
I am not aware whether any other Lord Mayor did this. Sir Humphrey
Edwin might be said to bring the State over to Nonconformity, as at
other times, when he knelt at the altars of the Establishment, he
brought Nonconformity over to the State. At all events, his conduct
subjected him to annoying criticism. He was attacked by a clergyman who
preached before the Corporation in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Ballads and
lampoons, caricaturing what he had done, were hawked about the streets,
and Swift, in his _Tale of the Tub_, satirized Sir Humphrey in his
well-known reference to Jack’s tatters coming into fashion, and his
getting upon a great horse and eating custard. Tragical exclamations
were uttered in High Church circles, and in a publication of later
date it is declared, that “to the great reproach of the laws, and of
the city magistracy,” the Mayor “carried the sword with him to a nasty
conventicle, that was kept in one of the City Halls, which horrid
crime one of his own party defended by giving this arrogant reason for
it, that by the Act of Parliament by which they have their liberty,
their religion was as much established as ours.”[515] The Lord Mayor’s
proceeding did not meet with the approbation of his co-religionists.
They felt the injustice of the attacks which it had occasioned; it
seemed to them inconsistent and arrogant for Churchmen to speak in the
way they did of a religion which had the same object of worship, the
same rule of faith and life, and the same end and aim as their own; yet
they saw that Sir Humphrey’s conduct had been such as naturally to lead
to misapprehension and to produce annoyance. Calamy lamented that “this
measure drew unhappy consequences after it, both in this reign and in
that which succeeded.”[516]
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Sir Thomas Abney, a Presbyterian, became Lord Mayor of London in the
year 1701. Prior to that date he had favoured occasional Conformity.
When in office he attended church. This occasioned a controversy
between two Nonconformists, who regarded the conduct of Abney and Edwin
from different points of view.
Daniel De Foe, who had been educated in Mr. Morton’s academy with a
view to becoming a Presbyterian minister, and then found the study of
politics and the pursuits of literature more congenial to his taste,
distinguished himself by a firm attachment to Nonconformist principles,
and carried them out to an extreme extent. He had written about half
a dozen clever pamphlets in about fifteen years, and was on the point
of commencing that career as an author which made him so notorious
among contemporaries, so popular with posterity, when, in 1697, he
published anonymously an _Enquiry into the Occasional Conformity of
Dissenters_. In his own trenchant style, with vigorous Anglo-Saxon
idioms, employed after a rasping fashion, he declared that none but
Protestants halt between God and Baal; none but Christians of an
amphibious nature could believe one way, and worship another.
In the year of Sir Thomas Abney’s mayoralty, De Foe republished
his _Enquiry_, and prefixed to it a preface addressed to John
Howe. John Howe was Sir Thomas’s pastor, and addressing him, De Foe
demanded that Howe should declare to the world, whether the practice
of alternate communion was allowed either by his congregation, or by
Dissenters in general. The practice, he said, should be defended if
defensible, otherwise “the world must believe that Dissenters do allow
themselves to practice what they cannot defend.”
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Howe being dragged before the public, referred to his own moderate
views in points of difference between Conformists and Nonconformists,
but denied having advised Sir Thomas as to his conduct; he declined to
enter upon the question, and only contended that occasional conformity
to one communion, if a fault, should not exclude a person from habitual
fellowship with another. De Foe had taken up occasional Conformity as
a qualification for holding office, and had shown that so regarded it
is incapable of vindication; but Howe regarded the question generally,
and proved that a person who, apart from worldly motives, communes
with one church on particular occasions, and with another church on
common occasions, does nothing which impeaches his conscientiousness or
destroys his consistency.
The author’s calm temper becomes ruffled towards the close, when he
alludes to the “stingy and narrow spirit” of his opponent, and to his
seeking to impose upon the world a false impression of the English
Puritans. He declared that in 1662 “most of the considerable ejected
London ministers met and agreed to hold occasional communion with the
now re-established Church, not quitting their own ministry or declining
the exercise of it as they could have opportunity.”[517]
De Foe replied, vindicating his own character, and animadverting upon
Howe’s want of zeal. The latter having reluctantly taken part in this
business, could not be induced to say another word. The spirit of
Howe had greatly the advantage over the temper of De Foe; nothing but
one-sided partizanship could induce any man to charge the advocate of
occasional communion with disloyalty to Nonconformist principles.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Nonconformist preaching was orthodox. The existing generation,
however, deviated from their father’s footsteps. Sermons differed
from those of an earlier period in form: divisions were less numerous
and perplexing, bones were not so visible, there was more symmetry
of proportion, and more roundness of style. In spirit some preachers
diverged from their predecessors--betraying a lack of fire, unction,
and healing power. Nevertheless, there were pastors who caught the
mantle and spirit of the departed. Anyone visiting “the ancient and
fair city of Chester” found a specimen of this in the ministry of
Matthew Henry. At a meeting-house in Crook Street--still in existence,
as I have already said, with the original pulpit and sounding-board,
from which the good man delivered his homilies--he had a congregation
so large, that ultimately it contained as many as 350 communicants,
including a few city magnates. They assembled in their large oaken
pews at 9 o’clock on a Sunday morning, the richer men in curly wigs,
lace ruffles, and ample broad cloth suits; their wives and daughters
with long stomachers, hoops, and lofty head-dresses; but beneath
costumes fashioned by the fancies of the age, they carried in their
hearts wants, cares, and desires belonging to all ages, and such as the
worship and ministry upon which they attended were adapted to meet and
satisfy.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
The service began with the hundredth psalm, according to the version of
Sternhold and Hopkins; and then we can easily image the pastor beneath
the huge sounding-board, standing erect--portly in form, dignified in
mien, comely in face, his person set off to advantage by a curled wig
and a flowing gown--offering prayer and next expounding a lesson in
the Old Testament. The matter and manner may be learnt from perusing
his _Commentary_, where, in the picturesque quaintness of his
thoughts, he aims not at singularity, but at fixing Divine truth in
people’s memories and hearts. Another psalm and a longer supplication
succeeded, and judging from his book on prayer, he must have excelled
in that form of spiritual exercise. Then followed a sermon full of
useful practical thought, arranged in singular devices, after Puritan
precedents; for Matthew had great reverence for the ways of his father
Philip, and of his father’s friends. What is said of the sire may be
said of the son: “Many a good thought has perished because it was not
portable, and many a sermon is forgotten, because it is not memorable;
but like seeds with wings, the sayings of Henry have floated far and
near, and like seeds with hooked prickles, his sermons stuck in his
most careless hearers. His tenacious words took root; and it was his
happiness to see, not only scriptural intelligence but fervent and
consistent piety spreading among his parishioners.”[518] Singing and
praying wound up the service, after it had lasted some three hours.
This protracted worship would be deemed sufficient for one day; but in
the afternoon the same thing was repeated, the exposition of the New
Testament being substituted for that of the Old. We are apt to pity men
who performed or endured such lengthened duties, but really the duty
cannot be regarded as having involved much hardship for them. Such long
services were their own choice. Some might fancy that under the weight
of these prayers, these expositions, and these sermons, every Sabbath
regularly for twenty-four years, the pastor’s strength would break
down; yet the good man seems to have borne the wear and tear of it all
remarkably well.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
The Lord’s Supper he celebrated monthly, remarking that “among the
Jews, the beginning of the month was esteemed sacred; and although
he did not consider the Jewish law as to the new moons still in
force, yet from general reasoning he thought the conclusion a safe
one, that whatsoever may be our divisions of time, it is always good
to begin such divisions with God--seeking first His kingdom and its
righteousness.”[519]
He was impressive in his mode of administering baptism, which he
likened to the taking of a beneficial lease for a child while in
the cradle, and putting his life into it. He used the Assembly’s
Catechism, and when “he perceived in any of his catechumens symptoms of
thoughtfulness upon religious subjects, he specially noticed them, and
as soon as there was a competent number, conversed with them severally
and apart upon their everlasting interests; afterwards in the solemn
Assembly, he catechised them concerning the Lord’s Supper, by a form
which he printed.” He next appointed a day in the week preceding the
monthly sacrament, in which, before the congregation, he was their
intercessor at the Heavenly Throne: a sermon was addressed to them,
and the following Sabbath they were welcomed to the Lord’s-table.
“Such in his judgment, as in that of his father also, was the true
_confirmation_, or transition into a state of adult and complete
church membership.” He considered the ordinances of Christ as
mysteries, of which His ministers are the stewards, and in admitting
any to membership, “they were entrusted with the keys.”[520] Holding
this view, he kept in his own hands the exercise of discipline; and
on one occasion he pronounced sentence of excommunication on three
persons, the act being accompanied by a congregational fast.
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
Neighbouring villages were visited, and periodical lectures
established. Twice a year county unions met, when ecclesiastical
matters came under discussion. “Affairs of the State or the Established
Church were never meddled with.”[521]
The account I have given applies particularly to Presbyterians, but
association meetings were also held by Independents. They did not,
however, at these gatherings ordain ministers; ordinations amongst them
generally took place in the presence of the church members by whom
the pastor was chosen. Orders--technically speaking--maintained by
Presbyterians as well as Episcopalians, could scarcely be said to be
recognized by Congregationalists, who considered ordination simply as
an acknowledgment of the church’s act in electing ministers. The key to
the difference between the two denominations is found, on the one hand,
in the Presbyterian idea of power being lodged in the ministry, and,
on the other hand, in the Congregational idea of power being lodged in
the people; and as this distinction and difference affected the subject
of ordination, so it did that of admission and discipline. Admission
of members amongst Congregationalists depended upon a vote of the
church, after an account had been given of the candidate’s religious
character. Congregational churches were not all alike as to terms of
admission. Some were narrow and severe. They exacted circumstantial
proofs of conversion, and an ample confession of faith. In not a few
cases this was required to be given in writing. Others accepted the
children of members, to use their quaint language, when they took hold
of their father and mother’s covenant, and expressed their confidence
in Christ’s passion, and repentance from dead works. The Church having
nothing to object to “their walking,” they were permitted to partake of
the Ordinance of the Supper, and were confirmed.[522]
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Yet churches less exacting in terms of admission were curiously
vigilant in the oversight of members, and would call people to
account even for lying in bed, instead of coming to the communion;
for consulting a lawyer on a Sunday afternoon; and for going to a
cock-fight when the brethren were met to seek God.[523] Acts of
discipline depended upon church votes, and sometimes differences of
opinion arose between pastor and people.
An instance of the manner in which the Independents of the village
of Guestwick, in Norfolk, invited a minister, and prepared for his
reception, is preserved in their church book. They set forward for
London about the beginning of the month of October, 1694, and from
thence to Chalfont in Buckinghamshire, with letters from the church
to the gentleman whom they wished to become their pastor. If he would
come, the church would comply with what he desired. At last they
obtained his consent, the tidings of which were forwarded to the
church. One of the deacons tarried to accompany him and his family.
They went by coach, and were met by several of the brethren at
Swaffham the 1st of November, and arrived at Guestwick the 2nd, at
night. The charges which the church and other friends incurred for
this expenditure amounted to nearly £20. A similar entry of later date
may be found in the Yarmouth Congregational Church-Book, relative to a
coach and four being sent for the conveyance of their new Bishop.[524]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
When ministers grew old and needed assistance, churches were ready to
contribute an additional income. At Cockermouth the aged pastor wished
his son to be associated with him; consequently, the people agreed to
give a call for that purpose, and a letter accordingly was drawn up
and numerously signed. Previously “they subscribed to make him £30 per
annum, with a great deal of readiness and freedom.”[525]
Congregations testified their interest in public events. At the place
just mentioned, in January, 1689, the people assembled to seek the Lord
for the Convention, held that day in London for settling the nation.
The pastor spoke from Psalm lxxxii. 1. In February, 1698, “the church
passed a day of prayer for the Protestants in France;” and in the
following November they kept a solemnity for God’s deliverance of the
nation and the Church from “the Popish hellish powder-plot;” also “for
saving the nation from Popery and slavery by the landing of the Prince
of Orange.” When the pastor died, December, 1700, the church recorded
his last words: “Lord, remember my poor brethren in France.”[526]
The Independent mode of conducting worship resembled the Presbyterian.
Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were observed by both much in the same
way. The latter was celebrated in most places once a month; in some,
once in six weeks.[527]
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Ecclesiastical revenues of course were voluntary. The expense of
educating men for the ministry was met by parents or friends;
assistance in some cases being provided out of charitable funds.
The Fund Board was established soon after the Revolution, and from
its proceeds young candidates received grants. To this fund the
Presbyterians contributed £2,000, and the Independents nearly £1,700,
a year. Assistance also proceeded from an endowment under the will of
a Mr. Trotman, who, after the Act of Uniformity, bequeathed property
for Nonconformist purposes. The trustees were ejected ministers,
almost all of them belonging to the Independent denomination; and
they afforded small exhibitions to persons studying for the ministry.
Amongst distinguished beneficiaries were Stephen Lobb, who entered
Trinity College, Oxford, in 1679; Benjamin Chandler, who studied
at the same University; Samuel Wesley, who, for awhile, as we have
seen, contemplated being a Dissenting pastor; William Payne, of
Saffron Walden, a friend of John Owen; and the celebrated divine and
poet, Isaac Watts, the last of whom received aid from the Fund Board
also.[528]
[Sidenote: 1688–1702.]
The support of Dissenting pastors depended mainly upon their flocks.
Sometimes, as we have seen, money was raised for the erection of
meeting-houses by the sale of pews, which became the property of the
purchasers; but in such cases, as well as others, the salary of the
minister principally arose from the subscriptions of the people.
Endowments in certain cases increased the revenues, but sometimes,
where churches had no such resources and needed sustentation, grants
were made from the Fund Board. Trotman’s Trust availed in a small
degree for ministerial support, as well as education, so long as any
of the ejected survived, and the money bequeathed to them lasted; for
by his will he left £500 to poor ministers, who had been removed from
“their employment” in the Church of England by the Act of Uniformity.
We have noticed the public worship of Nonconformists. It is worth while
to advert to Sundays at home. In many a farmhouse and city dwelling,
the master called his household round him in the evening, to read a
chapter and to ask religious questions; all being catechised, from the
old servant by the door to the child who sat beside the cosy hearth,
within the folds of mamma’s ornamented apron. Perhaps a discourse was
read, a psalm sung, and a prayer offered. The young folks might have
looked sleepy before all was over, and some of the older ones might
with difficulty have kept their eyes open; but there were men and women
who could say at the end of these Puritan Sabbaths, with the Henry
family at Broad Oak: “If this be not heaven, it is the way to it.”
The relation of the pastor to his flock was intimate. He was their
guide and counsellor. Families grew up calling him their own friend and
their father’s friend; for the pastoral bond was rarely broken in those
days, except by death or some very remarkable circumstance.
[Sidenote: NONCONFORMISTS.]
Of the character of the early Nonconformists, testimony is borne by
Dr. Watts, who loved to cherish memories of the old Dissent, as he had
seen it in his young days. No doubt we sometimes deceive ourselves
in looking down the vista of the past. A transparent haze mellows the
whole; perhaps fancy takes liberties with the details, and lays on
tints of her own. How more than halcyon were the times of the Confessor
from the distance of the reign of Rufus; yet there was truth in the
Saxon’s estimate, under a Norman dynasty, of a former generation.
Unquestionably, there is truth in Watts’ review. He refers mainly to
a period rather earlier than that embraced within this chapter, yet
the light of Puritanism’s autumn day did not expire so long as Baxter
and Howe survived; Watts mentions the reverence of Dissenters for the
name of God, of their strict observance of the Sabbath, of their habits
of religious conversation, of their regular discharge of religious
duties, of their nonconformity to the world, and of their economical
expenditure.
But all was not sunshine in the old Dissent. Indeed, Watts lamented
the changes he witnessed. So did Howe; his lamentations being deepened
by the loss of early friends--“so many great lights withdrawn, both
such as were within the National Church Constitution, and such as were
without it.” And, no doubt, in connection with altered circumstances
and the advance of free ecclesiastical opinion, there came a
considerable decline of spiritual fervour. The strain and tension of
earlier religious life almost ceased. As in the Church of England there
was more calmness and moderation in Tillotson, Tenison, and Burnet, for
example, than in Cosin and Ward--so it was with Dissenters, as appears
when we compare such a man as Matthew Henry with such a man as Richard
Baxter, or when we place Edmund Calamy by the side of his grandfather.