A good man should not be very willing, when his Lord comes, to be
found beating his fellow-servants; and all controversy, as it is
usually managed, is little better. A good man would be loth to be
taken out of the world reeking hot from a sharp contention with a
perverse adversary; and not a little out of countenance to find
himself, in this temper, translated into the calm and peaceable
regions of the blessed, where nothing but perfect charity and
good-will reign for ever.
Tillotson.
During the turbulent era that immediately followed the death of
Cromwell, obscurity was the only asylum for integrity and innocence. The
respective demagogues contended for mastery; and the nation gazed on
their contests as on so many prize-fighters, whose uninteresting warfare
regarded only themselves. Weary of confusion and discord; aware that
faction had broken every promise and frustrated every hope; that the
visions of freedom had been the harbingers of despotism; and that
pretensions to moderation, disinterestedness, and purity, were but the
disguise of rapacity, pride, and selfishness, the nation longed for the
restoration of a lineal Sovereign, a regular government, and determinate
laws. Even those who first signalized themselves by opposition to the
late King, acknowledged that his government was preferable to the
oligarchy and military tyranny that followed; and the Presbyterians felt
their horror of Episcopacy abate while contrasting the temperance of
established supremacy with the violence of the numerous sects who strove
for superiority as soon as the hierarchy was overthrown. The easy good
humour and affable manners of the exiled King were enlarged upon, and
perhaps honoured with too much celebrity. Offenders in general
anticipated forgiveness; and those who were adroit and dexterous
anticipated rewards. To assist in restoring the regal power was deemed
not merely a rasure of past crimes, but a qualification for trust and
employment; and those who now sought the shelter of royalty as a
protection from their late co-partners in rebellion, seemed, by the high
value which they put on their present services, to overlook, with equal
contempt and injustice, the claims and the wrongs of the Loyalists, who
having never changed their principles, had much to be repaid, and
nothing to be forgiven.
In the struggles which immediately preceded the Restoration, while
Monk's designs were wrapped in mystery, the cruelty of the regicides
increased with their ambition, and the jails were successively crowded
with every party, as the unsettled government alternately vibrated from
the rump to the fanatical faction. Within the walls of the same prison,
suffering the same restraint, and, like himself, the victim of a
conscience which would not temporize, Dr. Beaumont met his worthy friend
Barton. They congratulated each other on having thus far weathered the
political tempest without deserting their principles, or impugning their
honour. The Doctor learned from Barton the particulars of Lady
Bellingham's death, and the claims of Monthault on her fortune, which,
by the turbulence of the times, were still kept in abeyance. Lord
Bellingham was yet alive, poor and wretched, courting every faction,
trusted by none, and so universally despised as to endure the odium of
more crimes than he had even dared to commit. He was allowed a small
stipend out of his vast possessions, the income of the remainder being
still paid into the public treasury; while Morgan, now become a man of
consequence, and a commissioner for compounding forfeited property, was
enabled amply to glut his rapacity, and resided at Bellingham-Castle in
a style of the grossest sensual indulgence. Monthault had joined the
army of Lambert, against whom General Monk was now marching from
Scotland; and as the King had given reiterated commands to all his
friends to remain passive, and wait the event, it seemed as if he had
some private intelligence with Monk's party, to whom, therefore, each
honest Englishman wished success.
Barton believed this effervescence would terminate in a happy calm--a
mild but energetic government; and he looked forward to prosperous
times, when the remembrance of past misfortunes should correct national
manners, and produce a general improvement in the minds and feelings of
men. Neville was always sanguine; and Dr. Beaumont confessed that all
things seemed to tend to the restoration of monarchy; yet, with the
prescience of a man long accustomed to calamity, he doubted whether even
that desired event would speedily repair the deep wound which England
had sustained.
"We shall," said he, "receive with our Prince the inestimable blessings
of our old laws and form of government; but as our troubles have served
rather to show us the necessity, than to prevent the abuse, of the
prerogative, its limits continue undefined, and we shall still too much
depend on the personal character of the King. It were well if the
situation in which we now stand would allow us to propose such
conditions as would make the duties of King and subject plain and easy,
before we invite our Prince to resume the sceptre of his ancestors, as
it would prevent the mistakes into which his father fell, from a
misconception of the bounds of sovereign power, derived from the
arbitrary precedent set by the House of Tudor. But our divisions prevent
us from claiming those advantages which would result from wisdom,
moderation, and unanimity. We fly to the King as to a healer of our
dissensions. A keen feeling of our sorrows and offences has raised the
sensibility of the nation to such a pitch, that it will sooner make
concessions than propose restraints, and rather throw its liberties
before the throne than suggest an abridgement of its splendour. We shall
therefore depend, I fear, upon his mercy for the existence of the sacred
inheritance whose very shadow was so pertinaciously defended from the
approaches of his father. I trust his personal virtues are what his
friends report. He has been educated in adversity, a good school; but
are not his advisers men who have endured too much to be dispassionate
and liberal? They have suffered in a good cause: if, when restored to
power, they abstain from indulging any vindictive propensity, they will
be saints as well as confessors; but, considering their long and
grievous provocations, is not this requiring too much of human frailty?
"Consider too, my dear friends, (and let the reflection allay your
sanguine expectations of another golden age,) that the King to whom we
look forward has been bred a foreigner. From his own country he has
hitherto met with nothing but severe injuries. The impression he has
received of the character of his future subjects is repulsive and
disgusting; and the heart of a King of England, as well as his manners,
should be completely English. He will return loaded with debts of
gratitude, which he never can discharge, to those who supported his
father, as well as those who restore him; to the surviving friends of
all that have bled in unsuccessful conflicts, and to those who will ride
by his side in triumph; to those who spent their fortunes in his
quarrel, and to those who hope to gain or preserve fortunes by voting
for his return. What course are men apt to pursue when they find
themselves in a state of inextricable insolvency? Do they not endeavour
to forget their creditors in general, and think only of taking care of
themselves and their personal friends. Royalty does not extinguish human
feelings. Let us consider its difficulties, and palliate while we
anticipate its errors.
"Are these all the remaining evils which the crimes of the last twenty
years have entailed upon us and our posterity? Call me not a prophet of
evil if I foresee general laxity of principle arising out of these sad
vicissitudes and deplorable contests. You, my good Barton, will not
deny, that the extravagance, absurdity, and hypocrisy of many low
fanatics, who sheltered themselves under that unbounded liberty of
conscience which you Dissenters (I think unwisely, as well, as
erroneously) claim, have made every extraordinary pretension to piety
suspicious. The nation has been whirled in the vortex of enthusiasm,
perplexed with the discordant pretensions and controversial clamour of
various sects, till it has begun to consider indifference to religion as
a philosophical repose; and its contempt for hypocrites is increased
till it has generated a toleration, if not a partiality of
licentiousness and immorality. Infidelity (a sin unknown to our
forefathers) has lately appeared among us, not like a solitary, restless
sceptic, affecting a wish for conviction, nor in the bashful form of an
untried novelty, cautiously stealing upon public favour--but under the
licence long allowed to opinions however blasphemous or immoral, a party
has arisen, calling themselves free-thinkers, who not only deride every
ecclesiastical institution, and publicly insult religion in its
ministers, but even make the word of God an object of profane travesty
and licentious allusion. This never could have happened, the manly
feeling and good sense of Englishmen would never have permitted such
audacity, had not trifling, malicious, ignorant, and ridiculous
misapplications of the sacred writings, sunk, in too many minds, the
veneration in which they were formerly held; and thus benumbed what
ought to have been the natural sentiments of indignation at the
blasphemies of deism.
"We must admit that the return of the King is likely to introduce an
influx of foreign manners, and that the long-suspended festivities of a
court will foster an exultation bordering on extravagance. How will
those who seek advancement, approach a Prince who has been long groaning
under the injustice of mean and cruel hypocrites? Is it not likely that
ridicule will aim at the gross, distorted features of preaching
mechanics, and praying cut-throats, till the ministers, who are
consecrated to serve at the altar, will find some of the missile shafts
fall on their vestments? The perversions of Scripture I have just
mentioned will be so scrupulously avoided, that an apposite and pious
quotation will be termed puritanical; and we shall seldom hear the
sacred volume referred to but to point a jest. Elegant literature, the
fine arts, and dramatic amusements, have been long reprobated as Pagan
devices. But so natural is our desire for innocent enjoyments, that,
remove the interdict, and the public inclination will rush to these
delights with the avidity resulting from constrained abstinence, which
will give to pleasure an undue preponderance: Wit has been too much
discountenanced. I simply argue on the tendency of the human mind to
extremes, when I suspect that it will be indulged till it degenerates
into indecorous levity. May the evils I foresee exist only in my fears;
but if they are realized, much of the guilt, much of the blame must be
laid on those who deluged us with spiritual pride, cant, austerity, and
oppression; who bent the necks of Englishmen to the yoke of slavery, did
their utmost to exterminate the Christian sentiments of moderation and
charity, wrought the nation into a ferment, and then expected good to
result from the chaos of virulent passions."
Mr. Barton admitted all the evils which had resulted from overstrained
rigidity, but expressed the hopes his party entertained that Episcopacy
would not be considered as a necessary adjunct to monarchy; or, in case
of its revival, that it might be re-instated in its primitive form, and
that the objectionable parts of the Liturgy, the articles, and the
canons, might be so modified as to satisfy all parties. He spoke of the
obligations which the King would owe to the Dissenters; who he trusted
would be rewarded by being placed on an equality with the Church.
Dr. Beaumont argued, that if these late services cancelled their former
transgressions, the Dissenters would have no just cause of complaint at
being replaced in the situation which they held previously to the
rebellion. He much feared that the vindictive feelings of those who had
been despoiled, ridiculed, plundered, imprisoned, and deprived of every
earthly blessing, would produce some measures, which, though they might
be supported by the pretence of preventing further mischief, he should
lament and blame, but never justify. As to jointly establishing
Episcopacy and Presbytery, or simply tolerating both, he could never
consent to either plan politically, because he conceived one established
religion was necessary to preserve national piety; and the Church had
too many claims on the King's gratitude, and was too intimately
connected with the laws and manners of the people to be laid aside, or
reduced to the level of her opponents; and, considered as a point of
conscience, he was so firmly convinced of her conformity, in doctrine
and discipline, to apostolical institutions, ancient customs, and, above
all, to Scripture, that, though he would be the last man in the kingdom
to consent to persecute those who, through conscience, refused to
conform, he would be the first to defend her pre-eminence. As to giving
the Church a more primitive dress, by which he supposed was meant,
depriving her of her endowments, it must be remembered, that when the
ministers of the Gospel lost miraculous gifts, they became dependant on
temporal support. Though the apostles appeared as mendicants, yet while
they could heal diseases with a touch, they inspired reverence. But in
the present times men showed more observance to those who could bestow
alms than to those who required support. It should likewise be
remembered that an injunction was given to the bishops of the first
century "to use hospitality," a proof that the primitive church was not
in all respects clad in sackcloth.
Dr. Beaumont farther declared his doubts of the good effects of a
conference between the Episcopalian and Presbyterian clergy. He was
willing to sacrifice non-essentials to peace; but personal disputations
were more apt to confirm than to remove prejudices. One party would be
too querulous, the other too tenacious. Personal considerations would
mix in the dispute; difficulties would be started; objections raised,
when none, in fact, existed; and, in the heat of debate, real
improvements would be rejected, which, in the calm seclusion of the
closet, would be allowed to be important. Declaimers, conscious of their
own powers, would seek distinction rather by acuteness and
fastidiousness than by candour and placability. The enemies of the
Church would argue rather with a view to her destruction than to her
purification; and, on the other hand, her friends would gloss over her
imperfections through fear that her opponents had some latent hostility,
which the least concession on their part would bring to maturity.
He reminded Barton that as a body the Dissenters could not complain at
their being expelled from the situations in which they were placed by an
unlawful and usurped authority. He trusted that wise and moderate men
would, by conformity, avoid this evil, and prefer the true praise of
sacrificing their scruples at the shrine of peace and unity, to the
false glory of courting reputation, by first exciting and then enduring
persecution. He spoke of schism as an evil the most afflictive; the most
opposite to the spirit of the Gospel, and to the commands of its Divine
Founder, and as the greatest impediment to its universal promulgation.
He exhorted Barton to use his influence with his friends, persuading
them to acquire the only triumph over the church in their power, by
renouncing their own prejudices, when they could not make their
opponents subdue theirs, and thus prove themselves to be the truest
disciples of the Prince of Peace. "Let the contest," said he, "be only
which shall serve our common master best, by leading a life of
unpretending holiness. Schism does infinitely more harm by the enmity it
engenders, than it does good by the zeal it kindles. Controversial
ardour is rather the death than the life of piety."
Mr. Barton replied, that he was become much more sensible of the evils
attendant on a separating humour, on the gathering of parties and
forming sects from the church; their effects had proved them to be
mischiefs. He confessed that until he had imbibed prejudices against the
Liturgy, he had joined in it with as hearty fervency, as he afterwards
did in other prayers, and felt, from its imperfections, no hinderance in
his devotions. He said, that he had lost his relish for controversy, and
now took most delight in what was fundamental, the Creed, the Lord's
Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, furnishing him with matter for
meditation equally acceptable and abundant. That he less admired gifts
of utterance, and bare professions of religion, than he once did, and no
longer thought that all those who could pray movingly and fluently, and
talk well of religion, were of course saints. That he was convinced most
controversies had more need of right stating than of debating, and that
many contenders actually differed less than they supposed[1]. But still
if the conditions of conformity should require him to acknowledge the
invalidity of his present ordination, he could not consent to admit that
he had hitherto been an Uzzah, touching the ark with unhallowed hands.
In that case he would submit to the rod of chastisement, instead of
receiving the staff of pastoral cure, and if he were forbidden to
instruct others, he would discipline himself. For the sake of peace he
would attend the services of the church, in which, though he saw much
that might be improved, he discerned nothing absolutely sinful. To
preserve a Christian spirit in himself and others, he would avoid
dwelling on the restraints he suffered; but instead of repining, be
thankful for the liberty he enjoyed. And he thought such behaviour would
be the best way of enlarging that liberty, or, if that could not be
done, of healing, in the next generation, those breaches which furious
animosity had made in the present[2].
He concluded by saying, that whoever had seen the ill-will engendered by
controversy, and the miseries incident to civil war, must think peace
cheaply purchased by any sacrifice short of conscience; and that, for
his own part, no private injuries, disappointments, or harsh treatment,
should make him obtrude his wrongs upon the public, so as to excite
clamour against the government. He had seen how soon clamour brings on
insurrection, and how partial commotion leads to universal confusion.
During such scenes, inconsiderate, daring, and worthless men, acquire an
ascendancy, and bring, by their extravagance, disgrace upon their party.
Yet, proudly ascribing their influence to a superiority of desert, they
reject the counsels of prudence, while their inordinate passions lead
them to subdue the restraints of conscience. To preserve the nation from
such misrule, he protested that he ardently wished to see the reins of
government again in the hands of prescriptive authority.
[1] See Baxter's reflections on his early religious opinions.
[2] The behaviour of Barton is copied from the conduct of Philip
Henry, a non-conformist divine.