CHAPTER XIII.

No Sunday in England ever exactly resembled that which fell on the

17th of August, 1662--one week before the feast of St. Bartholomew.

There have been "mourning, lamentation, and woe," in particular parish

churches when death, persecution, or some other cause has broken

pastoral ties, and severed from loving congregations, their spiritual

guides; but for many hundreds of ministers on the same day to be

uttering farewells is an unparalleled circumstance. In after years,

Puritan fathers and mothers related to their children the story of

assembled crowds; of aisles, standing-places, and stairs, filled to

suffocation; of people clinging to open windows like swarms of bees;

of overflowing throngs in churchyards and streets; of deep silence or

stifled sobs, as the flock gazed on the shepherd--"sorrowing most of

all that they should see his face no more."

[Sidenote: 1662.]

Pepys--who liked to see and hear everything which was going on--walked

to old St. Dunstan's Church, at seven o'clock in the morning, but found

the doors unopened. He took a turn in the Temple Gardens until eight,

when, on coming back to the church, he saw people crowding in at a side

door, and found the edifice half-filled, ere the principal entrance had

been opened. Dr. Bates, minister of the church, took for his text--

"Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus,

that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting

covenant, make you perfect." "He making a very good sermon," reports

the Secretary, "and very little reflections in it to anything of the

times." After dinner, the gossip went to St. Dunstan's again, to hear

a second sermon from the same preacher upon the same text. Arriving at

the church, about one o'clock, he found it thronged, and had to stand

during the whole of the service. Not until the close of this second

homily, did the preacher make any distinct allusion to his ejectment,

and then it was in terms the most concise and temporate. "I know you

expect I should say something as to my nonconformity. I shall only say

thus much--it is neither fancy, faction, nor humour, that makes me not

to comply, but merely for fear of offending God. And if after the best

means used for my illumination, as prayer to God, discourse, study,

I am not able to be satisfied concerning the lawfulness of what is

required; if it be my unhappiness to be in error, surely men will have

no reason to be angry with me in this world, and I hope God will pardon

me in the next."[369]

Dr. Jacomb occupied his pulpit in St. Martin's, Ludgate. It would seem,

from his remarks, that he did not expect it to be the last pastoral

discourse he would deliver; but I am unable to say whether the hope he

had of preaching to his parishioners again, arose from an idea that

the law would be mitigated. "Let me," he said, "require this of you,

to pass a charitable interpretation upon our laying down the exercise

of our ministry." "I censure none that differ from me, as though they

displease God: but yet, as to myself, should I do thus and thus, I

should certainly violate the peace of my own conscience, and offend

God, which I must not do, no, not to secure my ministry; though that

either is, or ought to be dearer to me than my very life; and how dear

it is, God only knoweth."[370]

[Sidenote: THE BARTHOLOMEW EJECTMENT.]

In the Cambridge University Library[371] is the copy of _A Prayer of

a Nonconformist before his Sermon, which was preached to an eminent

Congregation, August, 1662_. The prayer is long, and consists chiefly

of confession of sin and of supplication for spiritual blessings;

the only passages which seem to refer to existing circumstances

are the two following:--"It is the Spirit that makes ordinances

efficacious--although Thou art pleased to tye us to them, when we may

purely enjoy them, yet Thou dost not tye Thyself to them." "Bring our

hearts to our estates, if not our estates to our hearts. It is the

happiness of the saints in heaven to have their estates brought to

their hearts; but the happiness of the saints on earth to have their

hearts brought to their estates."

[Sidenote: 1662.]

The Fire of London swept away so many of the old City churches that we

are unable to picture the localities where the City ministers preached,

what they called, their own funeral sermons; but it is otherwise in the

provinces. Everyone who has entered the Vale of Taunton, and tarried

in the town from which it takes its name, must have lingered under

the shadow of the noble Church of St. Mary, and longer still within

its spacious nave, sometime since restored with exquisite taste. In

1662 the town had just had its walls razed, as a punishment for what

the inhabitants did in the Civil Wars--the bones of their townsman

Blake had been dug out of his grave in Westminster Abbey; old Puritan

members of the Corporation had been displaced for new ones of Cavalier

sympathies; and now, with bitter recollections, the nonconforming

parishioners entered the Church on the 17th of August, to listen for

the last time to their minister, George Newton--"a noted gospeller,"

and remarkable for his missionary zeal. "As to the particular Divine

providence," he said, "now ending our ministry among you, whatever

happeneth on this account, let it be your exercise to cry out for the

Holy Spirit of Christ, and He will grant you a greater support than you

may expect from any man whatever.... The withdrawing of this present

ministry may be to cause you to pray for this Holy Spirit, day and

night; and Christ promiseth that the Father will give it to them that

ask it.... If I cannot serve God one way, let me not be discouraged,

but be more earnest in another."[372]

[Sidenote: THE BARTHOLOMEW EJECTMENT.]

The quiet little town of Beer Regis, in Dorsetshire, retains its

ancient church, with its square tower and pinnacles, dedicated to St.

John the Baptist. The living, in conjunction with that of Charmouth,

formed the golden prebend of Salisbury Cathedral. How much of the

income of the stall belonged to the Incumbent under the Commonwealth

I do not know, but the Incumbency must have been of a description

strongly to tempt Philip Lamb, who then held it, to comply with the Act

of Uniformity, had he been a worldly-minded man.[373] But his farewell

teaching proves him to have been above the reach of such temptations.

Like other discourses at the same time, his was full of spiritual

instruction and earnest appeal; the following allusion being made to

the event of the day:--"For now I must tell you, that perhaps you

may not see my face, or hear my voice anymore in this place; yet not

out of any peevish humour, or disaffection to the present authority

of the kingdom (I call God and man to witness this day), it being

my own practice and counsel to you all, _to fear God and honour the

King_;--but rather a real dissatisfaction in some particulars imposed,

to which (notwithstanding all endeavours to that purpose) my conscience

cannot yet be espoused."[374]

The week between the 17th and 24th of August proved an eventful one.

Charles had been married in the previous May to Catherine of Braganza;

a match which--though formally approved by the Privy Council and by

Parliament, because of her dowry, and of the possession of Tangier, on

the coast of Africa, and of Bombay, in the East Indies, and of a free

trade with Portugal and its colonies--was, because of the religion of

the bride, hateful to the English people, in proportion as they hated

Popery. The day before her reception, the King issued a Proclamation,

addressed to the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London. He laid "hold

of this occasion of public joy, on the first coming of the Queen to

the Royal Palace of Westminster, to order the release of Quakers and

others, in gaol, in London and Middlesex, for being present at unlawful

assemblies, who yet profess all obedience and allegiance; provided they

are not indicted for refusing the Oath of Allegiance, nor have been

ringleaders nor preachers at their assemblies, hoping thereby to reduce

them to a better conformity."[375]

[Sidenote: 1662.]

The Quakers, George Fox and Richard Hubberthorn, had just before

addressed the King as "Friend," and sent His Majesty a list of "three

thousand one hundred and seventy-three persons" who had suffered for

conscience' sake. "There have been also imprisoned in thy name," add

these plain-spoken memorialists, "three thousand sixty and eight." "Now

this we would have of thee, to set them at liberty that lie in prison,

in the names of the Commonwealth, and of the two Protectors, and them

that lie in thy own name, for speaking the truth."[376] How far this

appeal influenced Charles in his act of grace now performed I cannot

say; nor does it appear how clemency towards a despised sect tended

to gratify the country at large; which on such an occasion he might

naturally wish to do. Perhaps, being fond of exercising a dispensing

power, this proceeding might afford some gratification to himself; and

as to the selection of objects, he had a liking for Quakers, on account

of what he regarded their harmlessness and oddity. He had no fear of

their arming themselves against his throne; and to quiz their dress and

their speech, seemed to his frivolous taste, a piece of real fun.

On Saturday, the 23rd of August, Catherine reached Whitehall; and the

citizens of London, ever prompt in their loyalty on such occasions,

gave "a large demonstration of their duty and affection to the King's

and Queen's Majesty on the River Thames." The Mercers, the Drapers,

the Merchant Taylors, and the Goldsmiths, appeared in stately barges,

their pageantry and that of the Lord Mayor outpeering the rest of the

brilliant regatta. Music floated from bands on deck, and thundering

peals roared from pieces of ordnance on shore. Their Majesties came

in an antique-shaped, open vessel, covered with a cupola-like canopy

of cloth of gold, supported by Corinthian pillars, wreathed with

festoons and garlands of flowers,--the pageant exceeding--as John

Evelyn remarked, who was sailing near--all the _Venetian Bucentoras_,

in which, on Ascension Day, the Doge was wont to wed, with a golden

ring, the fair Adriatic. The spectacle on the water-highway presented

a contrast to the experiences in many parsonages throughout broad

England; and it is remarkable, that just then certain persons were

engaged in solemnities more in accordance with Nonconformist depression.

[Sidenote: THE BARTHOLOMEW EJECTMENT.]

Edward Calamy that very Saturday preached a sermon at St. Austin's

Church, in London, for Father Ash (the old man who shed tears of

joy over Charles' early promises), from the words "The righteous

perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart; and merciful men are taken

away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil

to come,"--words befitting the interment of a Puritan patriarch on

Bartholomew's eve. Discoursing on his text, the preacher reminded his

audience how Methuselah died, a year before the flood; Austin died a

little before Hippo was taken; and Luther died just as the wars in

Germany were about to begin. He might have added, that Blaise Pascal,

who died the preceding Tuesday, August 19th, had been removed just as

the agony of the crisis came, in the history of the Port Royalists.[377]

By a further coincidence, the same day on which Ash was buried in

London, Edward Bowles, the distinguished Nonconformist, breathed his

last in the City of York. He had just been elected Vicar of Leeds--but

his Nonconformity would have disqualified him from entering on the

benefice, had not his Master called him to a better preferment and a

nobler ministry.

[Sidenote: 1662.]

When St. Bartholomew's Day arrived, the Nonconformist clergy who had

not before taken leave of their flocks, uttered their farewells.

Thomas Lye, Rector of Allhallows, London--whose catechetical lectures

had made him very popular with the youthful members of Puritan

families--preached twice from the words--"Therefore my brethren, dearly

beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord, my

dearly beloved." Lye mentioned in his morning address, that he had been

ejected on the 24th of August, 1651, because he would not swear against

the King. Now, on the 24th of August, 1662, he was ejected for a very

different reason. But he did not repine. "By way of exhortation," said

the preacher, "I remember good Jacob when he was come into Egypt,

ready to die, calls his children together, and before he dies, he

blesseth his children.--O beloved, I have a few blessings for you,

and, for God's sake, take them as if they dropt from my lips when

dying.--Whatever others think, I am utterly against all irregular ways;

I have (I bless the Lord) never had a hand in any change of Government

in all my life; I am for prayers, tears, quietness, submission, and

meekness, and let God do His work, and that will be best done when He

doth it."[378]

[Sidenote: THE BARTHOLOMEW EJECTMENT.]

Another instance of a second ejectment occurred the same day under

different circumstances. Robert Atkins, in the month of September,

1660, had been dismissed from the choir of Exeter Cathedral--the part

of the edifice appropriated to the Presbyterians--"Church music,"

to use his own words, "jostling out the constant preaching of the

Word; the minister being obliged to give place to the chorister; and

hundreds, yea thousands, to seek where to hear a sermon on the Lord's

Day, rather than singing service should be omitted, or not kept up

in its ancient splendour and glory." Driven at the Restoration from

East Peter's, he found refuge in the parish church of St. John--an

instance which shows that nonconforming clergymen might lose one living

and gain another, between the King's return and the execution of the

Act. From St. John's, he was ejected in August, and then he preached

a sermon in which, rising above all such narrowness as prompted the

depreciation of cathedral music, he caught ennobling inspirations, and

employed only words of loyalty and love. "Let him never be accounted

a sound Christian that doth not both fear God and honour the King. I

beg that you would not interpret our Nonconformity to be an act of

unpeaceableness and disloyalty. We will do anything for His Majesty but

sin. We will hazard anything for him but our souls. We hope we could

die for him, only we dare not be damned for him. We make no question,

however we may be accounted of here, we shall be found loyal and

obedient subjects at our appearance before God's tribunal."[379]

[Sidenote: 1662.]

Another day they had to quit the parsonage.[380] No poet that I am

aware of, has made the Bartholomew Exodus a theme for his muse, but the

well-known lines in Goldsmith's "Deserted Village" may be accommodated

to the incident.

"Good heaven! what sorrows gloom'd that parting day,

That call'd them from their native walks away,

When the poor exiles, every pleasure past,

Hung round the bowers, and fondly look'd their last.

With loudest plaints the mother spoke her woes,

And blest the cot where every pleasure rose,

And kiss'd her thoughtless babes with many a tear,

And clasp'd them close, in sorrow doubly dear;

While her fond husband strove to lend relief,

In all the silent manliness of grief."

Some persons can allow no excuse for Puritans who conformed. Because

Nonconformity under the circumstances appears to these persons

a plain obligation, they suppose it must have appeared equally

plain to everybody entertaining evangelical views like their own.

But if we exclude all Puritan Conformists from the benefit of

charitable allowance, on the score of temptation; if we dismiss all

thought of the medium through which, owing to circumstances, they

were likely to contemplate their own case,--then we diminish our

estimate of the clear-sighted judgment, the unprejudiced resolves,

and the self-sacrificing heroism of those Puritans who in a crisis

of extraordinary difficulty, pursued the course they did. When

Nonconformists discover considerations which mitigate the censure of

some who conformed, they must all the more admire those who, rising

above motives which spring from self-interest, from example, from

persuasion, and from prejudice, were, through a sense of duty, led to

sacrifice so much which they held dear.

[Sidenote: THE BARTHOLOMEW EJECTMENT.]

The ejected differed from each other in many respects: not more unlike

are cedars and firs, oaks and ashes, the elm and the ivy. Some were

bold and stern, of rugged nature and robust strength; others were

gentle and dependent, relying on friends for counsel and example.

Some were rigid and ascetic; others frank and genial. They included

Presbyterians, Independents, Baptists, and not a few whom it would

be difficult to reduce entirely under any of those denominations;

also, Calvinists and Arminians, with other Divines scarcely belonging

to either of those schools. As to learning, eloquence, reasoning,

and imagination, the men varied; but under all their peculiarities

lay a common faith--of no ordinary character, a faith of that rare

kind which makes the confessor. They believed in God, in Christ,

in truth, in Heaven; and in the controversy which they carried on,

they regarded themselves as fighting for a Divine cause. People may

think some of these ministers made too much of wearing a surplice,

using the sign of the cross, and bowing at the name of Jesus; but

such things were considered by them as having a significance beyond

themselves. They were, by the ejected, judged to be signs of a

corrupted Christianity--the banners of an adverse army--flags of which

the importance did not consist in the silk, the crimson, and the gold,

but in the import of the emblazoned device. What might seem trifles to

others, were in their estimation the marks of a ceremonial, as opposed

to a spiritual, of a legal as opposed to an evangelical Christianity.

They believed that, in the defence of the Gospel, they were acting

as they did. A strong evangelical faith upheld their ecclesiastical

opinions, like the everlasting rocks which form the ribs and backbone

of this grand old world.

[Sidenote: 1662.]

The Church of England suffered no small loss when she lost such

men. So far as extreme Anglo-Catholics on the one hand, and extreme

Presbyterians on the other were concerned, union was impossible; but

it should be remembered that in the conferences at Worcester House and

the Savoy, nothing more was sought by the Puritans than a moderate

Episcopacy; and, as already noticed, Baxter declared, that to the best

of his knowledge the Presbyterian cause was never spoken for, nor were

they ever heard to petition for it at all. There can be no question

that there were amongst the ejected many exemplary ministers, who

would have been perfectly satisfied with such concessions, as moderate

Episcopalians might have conscientiously sanctioned.

The great change having been accomplished, the King commanded

directions to be sent to the clergy respecting their preaching.

They were forbidden to meddle with matters of State, or to discuss

speculative points in theology, but were enjoined to catechize the

young, to read the canons, and to promote the observance of the Lord's

Day.[381]

Ecclesiastical History of England, Volume 3—The Church of the Restoration [part 1] · 第 13 / 26 章