CHAPTER XIII.
In the month of December, 1643, just after the Scotch treaty had been ratified, and while the Puritans waited for their allies, a great man passed away from the scene of strife. A journal reported how some at Oxford drank "a health to his Majesty, by whom we live and move and have our being; and to the confusion of Pym, his God, and his Gospel." Whether the report be an exaggeration of fact, or, as we would hope, a pure fiction, certainly Pym was an object of intense dislike to the Royalists, and his death removed a formidable antagonist. Crushed by toil and anxiety, his health had rapidly failed; and, while his body suffered from disease, and his mind from anxiety, he had to endure the fury of a populace which now sought to dash in pieces the god of its former idolatry. As the patriot lay on his death-bed, men, in women's clothes, instigated by those who wished to thwart the rigorous prosecution of the war, besieged the House of Commons, madly crying out, "Give us the traitor, that we may tear him to pieces, give us the dog Pym!"[374] The brutality of the mob had its match in the malignity of the Royalists, who, if rumour be true, kept horses idle in the stables, waiting to carry down to Oxford tidings of the wished-for stroke.[375] Report further spoke of knighthood as promised to the first who should bring the news. It was also stated that the night after Pym's decease, bonfires were blazing in the University streets to celebrate the event.[376]
1643, December.
Burial of Pym.
Westminster Abbey has witnessed many noble funerals. The pavement has but just closed over the remains of a renowned parliamentary chief, and we have a fresh remembrance of the long procession and the solemn service, the crowds of spectators and the general mourning at the burial of Lord Palmerston. The obsequies of John Pym were perhaps still more imposing. Preceded by servants and friends, by numerous persons of distinction according to their rank, and by the Westminster Assembly of Divines, attended also by some little pomp of heraldry, the remains of that illustrious statesman were borne on the shoulders of certain of his fellow-commoners up the nave of the cathedral, followed by his family, and by the members of both Houses of Parliament.[377] They crowded the vast building, whilst Stephen Marshall preached a sermon describing the virtues of the deceased. "He maintained," said the minister, "the same evenness of spirit which he had in the time of his health, professing to myself, that it was to him a most indifferent thing to live or die; if he lived, he would do what service he could, if he died, he should go to that God whom he had served, and who would carry on his work by some others. To others he said that if his life and death were put into a balance he would not willingly cast in one drachm to turn the balance either way. This was his temper all the time of his sickness." "Such of his family or friends who endeavoured to be near him (lest he should faint away in his weakness) have overheard him importunately pray for the King's Majesty and his posterity, for the Parliament and the public cause, for himself begging nothing. And a little before his end, having recovered out of a swound, seeing his friends weeping around him, he cheerfully told them he had looked death in the face, and knew, and therefore feared not the worst it could do, assuring them that his heart was filled with more comfort and joy which he felt from God, than his tongue was able to utter, and (whilst a reverend minister was at prayer with him) he quietly slept with his God."[378]
1643, December.
This incident—in an early stage of our Civil Wars—of Pym carried to the grave by his fellow patriots, forcibly reminds us of the interment of Mirabeau with similar honours, at the beginning of the French Revolution. Unlike as to moral and religious character, these two eminent men, as to ability for guiding public affairs, and swaying a nation's destinies, had much in common: and whilst we speculate on the probable consequences of the lengthened life of the brilliant Frenchman in curbing party excesses and preventing terrible scenes, we may also conjecture that happy consequences would have followed, had the illustrious Englishman been longer spared. The loss of John Hampden is often deplored, as of one whose wise counsel and force of character might have saved his country a series of mistakes and much suffering, had Divine providence lengthened his days. The loss of John Pym, for reasons of the same kind, is probably still more to be lamented.
Court Intrigues.
At this period, plots were of frequent occurrence.[379] Basil Brooke, a noted Royalist and Roman Catholic, planned a scheme for detaching the City of London from the cause of the Covenant, and from the Scotch alliance. By means of defeating Presbyterian schemes, he aimed at procuring peace favourable to the King. Propositions from his Majesty, and signed by his hand, were to be presented to the Lord Mayor, so that the latter should be obliged to convene a meeting to petition Parliament to treat with the monarch: upon which, should Parliament refuse, "a party in both Houses would appear with the City, and so either carry all to the King, or put all in confusion." The utterly idle conception of achieving a desired result by means in themselves impracticable, or, if even carried out, not such as to ensure the effect contemplated, only led to exposure and defeat. Keen-witted men in Parliament and in the City discovered the plot, and turned it to an account the very opposite of that which the plotters intended.
1643, December.
The court party at the same time endeavoured to intrigue with the Independents, whose want of sympathy in Presbyterian projects had become obvious to all. Flattering offers were made to them if they would break with the Scotch, abandon the Covenant, join the Royalists, and agree to the establishment of a moderate Episcopacy. Toleration was promised upon these conditions, and it was said: "Mr. Nye should be one of the King's chaplains, and several other Independents should be highly preferred and rewarded."[380] With these larger intrigues were mixed up certain minor ones for the purpose of inducing officers of the garrison at Windsor Castle and Aylesbury to betray those places into the King's hands. The person who appears most prominently among the Royalist agents in these schemes was one Serjeant-major Ogle, who had been taken prisoner by the Parliament, and who was lodged in Winchester House. References to him, as a notorious plotter in the service of his Majesty, occur in the publications of that day, and he also figures in that capacity upon the pages of the Parliamentary journals.[381] His own version of the part he played comes to light in the following letter found in the State Paper Office. Giving an account of himself at a later period, he says:—
"It pleased his Majesty," that blessed martyr, my ever-blessed master, to give his express orders unto me (then a prisoner in Winchester House, only upon his Majesty's interest), to proceed with Mr. Nye, Goodwin, Homstead, Grafton, Moseley, Devenish, and some other of the Independent faction, according to a letter of mine unto the Earl of Bristol, intimating their desires to his Majesty, on their own and all the rests' behalf, in order to their plenary satisfaction and freedom from pressure of conscience in point of worship, which they judged might more easily and safely be obtained, and by them more honestly and honourably accepted from the King than the Covenant then in its triumphant career in London, they having failed of their expectation from the address they made to his Majesty by Sir Basil Brooke. Upon receipt of which warrant from his Majesty, I did conclude upon certain articles, or rather propositions, in order to a treaty upon their coming to Oxford, for which purpose I received a safe conduct from his Majesty, with a blank for such names as I thought fit to insert, and a hundred pounds out of his Majesty's county, towards relief of my necessities.
Court Intrigues.
"The general, upon which all particulars were founded, was, that if his Majesty pleased to give them assurance of liberty of conscience, upon their submission to the temporal authority, they would employ their whole interest in opposition to the Scotch Covenant, to serve his Majesty against the two Houses, and submit to a moderate Episcopacy, which they judged to be far more tolerable than the other, and, indeed, the only way to settle the nation: and from this general one particular was, that they would deliver to the King Aylesbury and Windsor garrisons as pledges for performance of their future assistance upon his Majesty's command, after their coming to Oxford, and satisfaction received."[382]
It is to be observed that Ogle's letter plainly implicates the King as a prime mover in these wished-for intrigues with the Independents.
1644, January.
In the midst of these contrivances, and immediately after the detection of that in which Sir Basil Brooke was the chief actor, the corporation of London, (according to civic custom on occasions of great public interest), invited the Houses of Parliament to a grand banquet, as a proof of union in one common cause, and as a celebration of recent victory over common enemies. The invitation was formally accepted, and entered in the journals, and the Commons added to their acceptance of the invitation a request that, on the morning of the festive day, there should be in such place as the City might think fit, and by such a minister as the City might choose, a sermon for the commemoration of the recent deliverance. The Assembly of Divines also received an invitation to the festival; and further, the sheriff and aldermen, in chains and gowns, called on Baillie and his colleagues at Worcester House to join the other notabilities who were to be present at the municipal entertainment. On Thursday, the 18th of January, the Parliament, the Assembly, and the Scotch Commissioners met between nine and ten o'clock in the morning at Christ Church in the City, to hear Stephen Marshall, the preacher selected by the corporation to deliver a sermon at the request of the Commons.
The exordium to his discourse was ingenious.
Stephen Marshall's Discourse.
"Right honourable and well-beloved in our Lord,
"This day is a day purposely set apart for feasting, and it is like one of the Lord's feasts, where you have a feast and an holy convocation, and you are first met here to feast your souls with the fat things of God's house, with a feast of fat things, full of marrow; and wine on the lees well refined; and afterwards to feast your bodies with the fat things of the land and sea, both plenty and dainty. But if you please you may first feast your eyes. Do but behold the face of the assembly. I dare say it is one of the excellentest feasts that ever your eyes were feasted with. Here in this assembly you may first see the two Houses of Parliament—the honourable Lords and Commons, who after thus many years wrestling with extreme difficulties, in their endeavouring to preserve an undone kingdom, and to purge and reform a backsliding and a polluted Church, you may behold them still not only preserved from so many treacherous designs, and open violences, but as resolved as ever to go on with this great work which God hath put into their hands. Here you may also see his excellency my most honoured lord, and near him that other noble lord the commander of our forces by sea, as the other is by land; and with them abundance of lords and resolute commanders; all of them with their faces like lions, who after so many terrible battles, and abundance of difficulties, and charging in the faces of so many deaths, are yet all of them preserved, and not a hair of their head fallen to the ground. Here also you may behold the representative body of the City of London, the Lord Mayor, the Court of Aldermen, the Common Council, the militia, and in them the face and affection of this glorious city; this city which, under God, hath had the honour of being the greatest means of the salvation of the whole kingdom, and after the expense of millions of treasure, and thousands of their lives, still as courageous and resolute to live and die in the cause of God as ever heretofore. Here you may likewise see a reverend assembly of grave and learned divines, who daily wait upon the angel in the mount, to receive from him the lively oracles and the pattern of God's house to present unto you. All these of our own nation, and with them you may see the honourable, reverend, and learned commissioners of the Church of Scotland, and in them behold the wisdom and the affection of their whole nation, willing to live and die with us; all these may you behold in one view. And not only so, but you may behold them all of one mind, after so many plots and conspiracies to divide them one from another. And, which is yet more, you may see them all met together this day on purpose both to praise God for this union, and to hold it out to the whole world, and thereby to testify that as one man they will live and die together in this cause of God. Oh, beloved, how beautiful is the face of this assembly! Verily, I may say of it, as it was said of Solomon's throne, that the like was never to be seen in any other nation. I question whether the like assembly was ever to be seen this thousand years upon the face of the earth. Methinks I may call this assembly the host of God; I may call this place Mahanaim, and I believe there are many in this assembly that would say as old Jacob did when he had seen his son Joseph's face, 'Let me now die, seeing my son Joseph is yet alive.' And for mine own part, I am almost like the Queen of Sheba, when she had seen the court of Solomon, it is said that she had no spirit in her; and I could send you away and say that you had no cause to weep to-day or to-morrow, but to eat the fat and drink the sweet, and send portions one unto another; and I should send you away presently, but that I have first some banqueting stuff for your souls, such as the hand of God hath set before you for your inward refreshing; the ground whereof you shall find in the twelfth chapter of the first book of Chronicles, and three last verses:—'All these men of war, that could keep rank, came with a perfect heart to Hebron, to make David king over all Israel: and all the rest also of Israel were of one heart to make David king. And there they were with David three days, eating and drinking; for their brethren had prepared for them. Moreover, they that were nigh them even unto Issachar, and Zebulun and Naphtali, brought bread on asses, and on camels, and on mules, and on oxen, and meat, meal, cakes of figs, and bunches of raisins, and wine, and oil, and oxen, and sheep abundantly: for there was joy in Israel.'"[383]
1644, January.
After the preacher had delivered a pertinent discourse from this text, which was felicitously chosen, the guests who had attended the church marched in long and imposing procession to Merchant-Taylors' Hall, where the banquet was served.
Corporation Banquet.
Train bands lined the streets. Common Councilmen in their gowns walked first. The Mayor and Aldermen, arrayed in scarlet, followed on horseback. The General and Admiral of the Parliament, with the rest of the Lords and the Officers of the Army, trudged on foot. Then came the Commons, with their Speaker and his mace-bearer; and next to these the Westminster Divines. It had been appointed that the Scotch Commissioners, clerical and lay, should have a post of honour between the Commons and the Assembly, but as Lord Maitland went with the other lords, the modesty of his clerical companions would not let them take precedence of the English brethren. So Baillie and his colleagues "stole away to their coach," and when there was no room for coaches along the thronged streets, they went on foot, "with great difficulty through huge crowdings of people." Passing through Cheapside they saw,—where the Cross used to stand,—a great bonfire kindled, "many fine pictures of Christ and the saints, of relics, beads, and such trinkets," being piled up for the special entertainment of the reverend gentlemen, and kindled into a blaze just as they marched by. The feast cost £4,000, though, in the spirit of Puritan moderation, it included neither dessert, nor music, only "drums and trumpets." The Mayor sat on the dais. Two long tables supplied the Divines; Dr. Twiss the Prolocutor, sitting at the head. The Speaker of the Commons proposed the health of the Lords. The Lords stood up, every one with his glass, and drank to the Commons. The Mayor toasted both in the name of the citizens. The sword-bearer, wearing his cap of maintenance, carried the loving cup from the chief magistrate to the Commissioners. The whole ceremony was to them a "fair demonstration" of union between those whom the Oxford plotters endeavoured to divide. The feast ended with the singing of the 67th Psalm, "whereof Dr. Burgess read the line." "A religious precedent," says Vicars, in his Chronicle, "worthy to be imitated by all godly Christians in their both public and private feastings and meetings."[384]
1644, January.
Iconoclastic Crusades.
The Cheapside bonfire of papistical trinkets illuminated the spot where once stood the famous cross. That cross, also the one at Charing, and even the venerable building of a like description in St. Paul's Churchyard—although so rich in memories of the Reformation—had been destroyed by the axes of puritanical zeal. In his honest hatred of superstition, the Puritan did not perceive that objects once devoted to its service, if intrinsically beautiful, might yet deserve preservation, and that monuments of antiquity, though they may not advance the cultivation of taste, may render valuable aids to the study of history. But the use and appreciation of ancient art is of modern growth, and the Puritan must not be blamed for being, in this respect, only on a level with the reformers of an earlier age, and with many of his own contemporaries of a different creed.[385] The House of Commons had early taken in hand the destruction of what were deemed relics of idolatry, although, being unsupported by the Lords, they accomplished little. But in the spring of 1643, by order of the two Houses, Sir Robert Harlow executed the iconoclastic crusade just noticed, which proved the beginning of a wholesale destruction which continued throughout the following winter. Acting under the advice of the Assembly, as well as in accordance with their own impulses, the Commons, in the month of August, issued an ordinance for demolishing altars, for removing tapers, candlesticks, and basins, and for defacing crosses, images, and pictures of the persons of the Trinity, and of the Virgin Mary.[386] Monuments of the dead, not commonly reputed for saints, were to be spared. Accordingly, in December, images in Canterbury Cathedral were dashed down, and stained windows broken in pieces. Something of the same wilful destruction followed a few days afterwards in Westminster Abbey; copes and surplices, it may be observed, having been taken away in the previous October, up to which time they had been in use even there.[387] St. Paul's Cathedral[388] shared a like fate, and sacred articles of silver belonging to it were sold for the replenishment of the war treasury.[389] As to the defacement of churches, the Puritans have been blamed for things in which they had no concern. What was really owing to the violence of reformers, the depredations of Royalists, and the neglect and folly of churchwardens has been put to their account. Yet when all this is allowed for, enough remains to sustain serious indictments against the accused, and little mercy would they find at the hands of a tribunal of antiquaries.
1644, January.
Iconoclastic Crusades.
In the city of Norwich, (January, 1644) the Puritan corporation appointed a committee to repair several churches, and take notices of scandalous pictures, crucifixes, and images:[390] whereupon they went to work, breaking windows, filing bells, tearing down carved work, stripping brasses off monuments, and pulling down the pulpit with its leaden cross in the green yard. Popish paintings, taken from the cathedral and other churches, were burnt in the old market-place, "a lewd wretch" (according to Bishop Hall) walking before the train with his cope trailing in the dust, and a service book in his hand, "imitating in an impious scorn the tune, and usurping the words of the litany."[391] There is further evidence of remorseless destruction in the journal of William Downings, of Stratford, a parliamentary visitor, appointed under a warrant from the Earl of Manchester, for demolishing superstitious pictures and ornaments within the county of Suffolk, in the years 1643 and 1644. But in some places the populace opposed the execution of the Parliamentary decree. At Kidderminster the Puritan churchwarden set up a ladder, which was too short to enable him to reach the crucifix on the top of the town cross; and, while he was fetching another, a mob assembled to defend what many admired only for the reason that their neighbours disliked it.[392] Baxter, then minister in the town, calls these defenders of crucifixes and images "a drunken crew," and declares that they beat and bruised two neighbours who had come to look after him and the churchwardens, and would have belaboured both in the same way, could they but have caught them.[393] If sometimes the iconoclasts were defeated, at other times they overcame their adversaries. A church near Colonel Hutchinson's house at Owthorpe, in Nottinghamshire, had a painted window with a crucifixion, the Virgin Mary and the Evangelist John. The clergyman took down the heads of the figures, and laid them by carefully in his closet, and tried to persuade his churchwardens to certify that the Parliamentary order was executed; but they took care to call on the Colonel and bring him to see the church and the minister, who was at last compelled to blot out all the paintings and break all the glass which was tainted with superstition.[394]
1644, January.
Iconoclastic Crusades.
1644, January.
The amount of damage done in different parts of the country would depend on circumstances, on the disposition of the magistrates, and especially on the conduct of the military. It is certain that the havoc of Downings' iconoclasm is not a specimen of what generally took place. The state of numerous churches throughout the kingdom shews that Puritanism in many places touched them lightly, if at all. We know more about the cathedrals. These suffered severely. Peterborough, perhaps, was treated worse than any, the choir being stripped of its carved fittings and coloured glass, the cloisters being completely pulled down.[395] Part of the nave at Carlisle was destroyed, in order that guard houses and batteries might be constructed. The chapter house of Hereford was ruined, and 170 crosses torn up.[396] At Chichester, ornaments, monuments, and windows were destroyed. Sawpits were dug in the nave of Rochester. The lady chapel of Ely was cruelly shattered. Norwich Cathedral sustained much injury; and so did Lichfield, which the cavaliers turned into a citadel. Monuments were smashed at Gloucester and Lincoln. But, in Winchester, though Waynflete's chantry was defaced, the cathedral is said to have suffered less than it otherwise would have done, from the circumstance of the captain of the troop stationed there being an old Wykehamist. Though stalls were pulled down at Worcester, numerous monuments and effigies still remain within that edifice. Only painted windows were taken down at Exeter and Oxford; some of the latter being preserved after their removal. Notwithstanding what is reported in the Mercurius Rusticus, the ornaments of Westminster Abbey, which at the beginning of the conflict fell into Puritan hands, so far escaped violence, that it is said "a history of ecclesiastical sculpture, from the reign of Henry III. to the present day, might be fairly illustrated from the stores of that Church alone."[397] Other noble cathedrals were but slightly damaged. Salisbury was free from "material profanation."[398] There is no mention of harm done at Bristol, Durham, Chester, and York. Throughout England, tradition is constant in her story, that the violation of churches was the work of soldiers.
The excess to which ceremonial worship had been carried by the Laudian clergy, and the almost Popish reverence with which images and pictures had been regarded by some of them, inspired an intense Protestant indignation in numbers of Englishmen. They prized the Reformation, and thought they saw in the Anglo-Catholicism of their day a national defection from the faith of their fathers, like setting up the calves in Bethel and Dan, or the idolatrous service of Baal in Samaria. And whilst fearing the return of Romanism, with Romanism they identified things which have no necessary connection with it. Their zeal, though religious and disinterested, lacked wisdom, and had mixed up with it such alloy as commonly adheres to that passion in the breasts of mortals. It resembled the fierceness and fury of a noted reformer of Israel, who "brought forth the images out of the house of Baal and burned them;" nor was it untouched by a spirit of proud self-complacency like his when he cried: "Come see my zeal for the Lord of Hosts." Again and again, as we mark Puritan doings in cathedrals and churches, we are ready to exclaim: "The driving is like the driving of Jehu the son of Nimshi, for he driveth furiously."[399]
Cromwell at Ely.
A broad construction was given to the meaning of orders for suppressing superstition and idolatry. In the month of January, 1644, when Oliver Cromwell was Governor of Ely, a Mr. Hitch officiated in the cathedral in the usual way. No express law, as yet, had been made against the Prayer Book or choral worship. But, interpreting the latter as "superstitious," and apprehending that its continuance would irritate his soldiers, Cromwell wrote to this clergyman and required him to forbear a service which he styled "unedifying and offensive." The clergyman persisted. The Governor,—wearing his hat according to custom,—with his men, entered the church, and found Mr. Hitch chaunting in the choir. "I am a man under authority," said Oliver, "and am commanded to dismiss this assembly"—the only authority, in fact, being the order about superstition, backed by the probability of a disturbance in case the service was continued. When Hitch determinately went on, Cromwell's words, "Leave off your fooling and come down, sir," broke up the cathedral worship, and shewed the sort of man the clergy had to deal with.
1644, February.
While crosses, images, and choral services were put down, the Solemn League and Covenant was set up. The zeal with which the Parliament attempted the last, scarcely fell below that with which they accomplished the first. An exhortation on the subject by the Divines at Westminster publicly appeared. It contains no threatenings of penalty in case of refusal, but only an abundance of argument and rhetorical persuasion. Various objections are answered—one especially, which, read in connexion with the events of the Restoration, is rather curious:—
"As for those clergymen who pretend that they, above all others, cannot covenant to extirpate that Government because they have, as they say, taken a solemn oath to obey the bishops in licitis et honestis, they can tell, if they please, that they that have sworn obedience to the laws of the land, are not thereby prohibited from endeavouring by all lawful means the abolition of those laws when they prove inconvenient or mischievous; and if yet there should any oath be found into which any ministers or others have entered, not warranted by the laws of God and the land, in this case they must teach themselves and others that such oaths call for repentance, not pertinacity in them."[400]
Though no threats are found in the exhortation, Parliament sent instructions to commanders-in-chief and governors of towns and garrisons, that the Covenant should be taken by all soldiers under their command. The committees of the several counties had to see that copies were dispersed over the country, its contents read in the churches, and the oath tendered to ministers, churchwardens, and constables. Law officers under the Crown were subjected to loss of office, and lawyers to restraint from practising in the Courts, if they did not submit to the new test.[401] If a minister refused to present it to his parishioners, the committee was to appoint another minister to do so in his place.[402] It was ordered, at an earlier date, that no one who declined the Solemn League should be elected a common-councilman of London, or have a vote in such election, or hold any office of trust in the City.[403] Every congregation was to obtain a copy of the document fairly printed in large letters, fit to be hung up in the place of worship.[404]
The Solemn League and Covenant.
1644, March.
Sermons were preached and published, containing numerous scriptural quotations, pertinent and impertinent, in favour of covenanting. The Presbyterians regarded it as a symbol of their Church, and made it a bulwark of their system; and others, who had no sympathy with them, and who afterwards opposed their proceedings, were, at first, scarcely less extravagant in extolling its merits.[405] The devices of the engraver came under contribution, and there may be seen a curious series of plates executed at that period, one representing the Divines swearing to the Covenant with uplifted hands; and another exhibiting Prelatists in gowns and caps coming out of Church, whilst a Puritan is shutting the door upon them, saying, "Every plant that my heavenly Father hath not planted shall be plucked up."[406] Copies of the instrument, with a long array of names appended to it, sometimes present themselves amongst corporation records and parish archives, suggestive of scenes once enacted in church-porches and chancels.[407] Other written vows belong to that covenanting age. At Nottingham, the governor and garrison took between them a mutual oath to be faithful to each other, and to hold out until death, without listening to any parley, or accepting any terms from their enemies. Lucy Hutchinson describes how women as well as men entered into such pledges;[408] and an instance of a female adherent to the famous bond is found in a MS. life of Mrs. Stockton, preserved in Dr. Williams' library.
The Solemn League and Covenant.
Parliament imposed the Covenant upon the Irish. The Royalist authorities did all in their power to resist the imposition. The Lords-Justices and the Council laid an embargo on its adoption by the military, and condemned it as seditious. But old Scotch officers, commanding troops in the sister island, heeded not the mandate, and the proscribed symbol received a warm welcome in the camp, and also in the northern cities, where the Protestants rallied around it. With great solemnity, the soldiers swore to it in the church of Carrickfergus. Throughout Down and Antrim it became popular. At Coleraine it contended with opposition, but at Derry, which place abounded in anti-prelatists, it won a tumultuous victory over the opposite party.[409]
1644, March.
As it has been from the beginning in the history of tests,[410] so it was with the Covenant. It bore the character of a compromise; and, accordingly, that which was meant at the same time to declare truth and to accomplish union, received different explanations from different persons. First, the Presbyterians thought themselves bound by it to oppose schism as well as prelacy; next, the Independents, it was said, deeming Presbyterianism superstitious, conceived that the Covenant gave authority to oppose that system; and, thirdly, the cavaliers, swearing by it to preserve and defend the King's majesty, concluded they might lawfully oppose both the other parties. In this way the subject is represented in a publication of later date, written by one who had no sympathy whatever with the movement; and there is much truth, no doubt, in the representation, as well as in the following remark by the same writer, in reference to the ambiguity of the terms employed in the symbol: "It must needs own almost anything, especially seeing the sense of it hath never been plainly demonstrated, but left to men's own interpretation in several particulars."[411] But whilst each could discover something in the Covenant of a negative kind, which he could turn to account in opposing his adversaries, nearly all persons in England, except the most advanced Presbyterians, saw there were things in it of a positive kind, which they knew not how to adopt.
Hence, in spite of its various interpretations, and also in spite of Parliamentary orders and Presbyterian activity, great numbers refused or evaded the test.[412] Where zealots were able, they enforced it rigorously; but in unsettled times the imposition of anything of the kind is sure to be encumbered by great difficulties. Some even who held Presbyterian opinions disliked this form of expressing them; and we find that Richard Baxter prevented his flock at Kidderminster from submitting to the Covenant, lest, as he said, it should ensnare their consciences; and also he prevailed on the ministers of Worcestershire not to offer it to their people.
The Solemn League and Covenant.
The truth is, that while the Covenant in Scotland was a reality, inasmuch as it sprung from the hearts of the people, and expressed a sentiment to which they were devoted, the case was far otherwise in our own country. Imported here, it never rallied around it the sympathies of the nation. Exasperating High Churchmen, it did not please the Puritans. Many could not go so far as it went and many were anxious to go much further still. Moderate Episcopalians were reluctant to adopt it, because they were not prepared for the total abolition of Episcopacy; and, on the other hand, many Independents disliked it, because its condemnation of schism, they knew, was regarded in some quarters as a condemnation of themselves. They were advocates for a liberty and a toleration to which the spirit of the Covenant was thoroughly opposed. That the Scotch should insist upon its adoption by the English, and that the rulers of this country should accept the condition, and endeavour to enforce it upon all their subjects, was an unfortunate mistake, destined to be attended in some instances by failure, in others by mischief, in all by disappointment.
1643, September.
The adoption of the Covenant by the Westminster Assembly will be in the reader's remembrance; and to the subsequent proceedings of that venerable body his attention is now to be directed.
The Divines first met in Henry the Seventh's Chapel. That stone building, pleasantly cool in summer, became too cold for them as autumn drew on. They then, by order of Parliament, adjourned to the Jerusalem Chamber.[413] "What place more proper for the building of Zion, as they propounded it," asks Fuller, "than the Chamber of Jerusalem, the fairest of the Dean's lodgings where King Henry IV. died?" Romance and poetry, through the pens of Fabian and Shakespeare, have thrown their hues over this memorable room; other and higher associations now belong to it as the birth-place of a confession of faith still dear to the Church of Scotland, and as the spot where the Puritan advocates of religious liberty fought one of its early and most earnest battles.
The Westminster Assembly.
The Chamber adjoins the Abbey, at the south corner of the west front. There is a painted window on the north side, and two plain ones give light on the west. The walls are hung with tapestry, representing the Circumcision, the Adoration of the Magi, and, apparently, the Passage through the Wilderness. A portrait of Richard II.—generally considered the oldest extant picture of an English sovereign—hangs at the south end of the apartment; and a curiously-carved chimney-piece, put up by Williams, Dean of Westminster, spans the fire-place. The room was rather different in appearance at the time of the Assembly. The situation of the fire-place was the same, and the mantel-piece had but just been erected. The arras, however, was brought into the Chamber after the coronation of James II., on which occasion it had been used in the Abbey; and the portrait of Richard II. did not come there till 1755, when it was removed from the Abbey choir.[414]
1643, September.
Baillie paints the place and the Assembly as he saw it. Near the door, and on both sides, were stages of seats; the Prolocutor's chair being at the upper end, "on a frame." In chairs before him were the assessors. Before them, through the length of the room, ran a long table, at which sat the secretaries, taking notes. The house, says Baillie, was well hung with tapestry, and a good fire blazed on the hearth—"which is some dainty at London." Opposite the table, to the right of the president, on the lowest of the three or four rows of forms, appeared the Scotch Commissioners, Baillie himself a conspicuous individual of the group. Behind were Parliament members of the Assembly. On the left, running from the upper end to the fire-place, and at the lower end, till they came round to the seats of the Scotchmen, were forms for the Divines, which they occupied as they pleased, each, however, commonly retaining the same spot. From the chimney-piece to the door was an open passage; the Lords who now and then dropped in, filling chairs round the fire. There must have been plenty of room in the Chamber for the accommodation of the Assembly, as ordinarily there were not present above threescore members. Everything proceeded in perfect order, and each meeting commenced and closed with prayer. As we read Baillie's description, we can see the Divines divided into committees, can watch them preparing matters for the Assembly, and can hear them speak without interruption, as each one addresses the reverend Prolocutor. The harangues are long and learned, and are well prepared beforehand with "replies," "duplies," "triplies." Then comes the cry, "Question—question;" the scribe, Mr. Byfield, immediately rises, approaches the chair, and places the proposition in Dr. Twiss's hand, who asks, "As many as are in opinion that the question is well in the stated proposition, let them say Aye;" "As many as think otherwise, say No." Perhaps Ayes and Noes "be near equal;" then the Prolocutor bids each side stand up, and Mr. Byfield counts. When any one deviates from the point in hand, there are exclamations of "Speak to order." Nobody is allowed to mention another by name, but he must refer to him as "the reverend brother who lately or last spoke, on this hand, on that side, above, or below." These methods of proceeding deeply interested Robert Baillie, who, by his minute description of them, greatly interests us. The Prolocutor, far too quiet a man for the Scotch delegate, is represented by him as "very learned, but merely bookish, and among the unfittest of all the company for any action; so after the prayer he sits mute." This, most persons will think, a chairman ought to do; but Baillie wished to have a President with more zeal for Presbyterianism, and therefore he preferred Dr. Burgess—in his estimation "a very active and sharp man," who supplied, so far as was "decent, the Prolocutor's place."[415]
Members of the Assembly.
Twiss did not long retain the office which his modesty and infirmities had made him reluctant to accept. He fell down one day in the pulpit, and "was carried to his lodgings, where he languished about a twelvemonth," and then expired, July the 20th, 1646.[416] His preference of a contemplative to an active life appeared in his exclamation after the attack which proved his death-stroke: "I shall have at length leisure to follow my studies to all eternity," and throughout he seems to have been as loyal as he was religious; for he often wished the fire of contention might be extinguished, even if it were in his own blood. A funeral in Westminster Abbey marked the public opinion of his worth; and there Dr. Robert Harris preached a sermon for him on Joshua i. 2, "Moses my servant is dead." The Assembly and the House of Commons followed his remains to the grave. Mr. Charles Herle, educated at Exeter College, Oxford, succeeded him in the office of Prolocutor.
1643, September.
There was an overwhelming majority of Presbyterians in the Jerusalem Chamber. Amongst the most eminent were Burgess and Calamy, Marshall and Ash. In the notes of the Assembly's proceedings taken by Lightfoot, these names repeatedly occur, together with the less familiar ones of Herle, Seaman, Cawdry, and others. The Scotch Commissioners, Henderson and Baillie—with whom were associated George Gillespie, a young man of rich promise, and Samuel Rutherford, whose "Letters" on religious subjects are well known—likewise took a prominent part in the debates. It is proper here also to remember that Presbyterianism, predominant in the Assembly, was at the time supreme in the Senate. All the staunch Prelatists, and many moderate Episcopalians, had left the Long Parliament in St. Stephen's Chapel to join Charles's mock Parliament at Christ Church, Oxford. Advocates who exposed ecclesiastical abuses with the view of simply reforming the old establishment had disappeared. Of those who remained it would be uncandid to deny that some were sincere converts to the new system; and it would be credulous to believe that there were not others who, seeing which way the stream flowed, struck in with the current. At any rate, a Presbyterian policy prevailed in 1644. Holles, Glynne, Maynard, Rudyard, Rouse, and Prynne, together with Waller, Stapleton, and Massey, were the most distinguished members of the party; yet, though possessing amongst them considerable ability and learning, they were none of them men of great intellectual power or of any political genius.
Members of the Assembly.
The Erastians, as they are called, must not be overlooked. John Selden, already noticed, led the van, and his learning and reputation made him a formidable opponent. To gain any advantage when breaking a lance with such a person was counted a high distinction in theological chivalry, and this honour has been duly emblazoned by Scotch heralds more than once in favour of young George Gillespie, whom we have just mentioned. The solid and industrious Bulstrode Whitelocke, and St. John, "the dark-lantern man," helped to form a small body of reserve on the same side, who, on special occasions, behaved themselves valorously in the Westminster field. The chief Divine who thoroughly advocated Erastianism was Thomas Coleman, Vicar of Blyton, in Lincolnshire, of some considerable note in his own day. But a far greater man—acting, however, only occasionally in connexion with the party—was the renowned Dr. Lightfoot, who in rabbinical lore may be regarded as equal, if not superior, to John Selden.[417]
But another class, entertaining different views, claim our attention: the five dissenting brethren—Nye, Goodwin, Bridge, Burroughs, and Simpson.[418]
1643, September.
Philip Nye, a man of ability in some respects, and of bustling habits, stands out as chief of the five. Zealous in his commendations of the Covenant, he with equal zeal opposed Presbyterianism: the very thing which, according to the fairest rules of interpretation, it must be held to symbolize. He has been charged with disingenuousness; but experience in the matter of subscription makes charitable people slow to urge the charge. Those who vindicate subscription in "non-natural senses" ought to be the last to fling a stone at Philip Nye; and those who take the opposite side can hardly praise him for consistency of conduct. How the Covenant could be adopted by any one professing Independency is a puzzle, and the puzzle in Nye's case is the greater, because, not content with quietly assenting to it as many others did, he appears to have been a chief instrument in bringing it over the border, and in enforcing it upon his companions.
Thomas Goodwin surpassed Nye in learning and in other respects. His writings present him to us as an accomplished theologian, and a many-sided thinker, and shew that scarcely any forms of thought in metaphysical divinity escaped his notice.[419] The breadth and excursiveness of his reflective powers are the more remarkable when viewed in connexion with his rigid Calvinism. He joined Philip Nye in a preface to "Cotton's Keys," and in it expounded ecclesiastical opinions, in accordance with those of the New England churches.
Members of the Assembly.
William Bridge—once a Norwich clergyman, then a refugee in Holland—won a reputation for learning as well as piety. His library, well stocked with fathers, schoolmen, and critics, so attracted him, that he rose at four o'clock both winter and summer, that he might have time for reading these favourites. Being a man of broad sympathies, he accustomed himself to enquiries beyond the range of his profession, and boldly handled constitutional questions. Adopting the opinion, that "the people formed the first subject and receptacle of civil power;" an opinion which was the mainstay of the Parliament's policy, Bridge shrunk not from declaring, "In case a prince shall neglect his trust, so as not to preserve his subjects, but to expose them to violence, it is no usurpation in them to look to themselves, but an exercise of that power which was always their own."[420] He had suffered under Laud, and knew what it was to walk in paths of confessorship, so that his exhortations had no little power to comfort, when he said to his people in trouble: "Certainly, if God's charge be your charge, your charge shall be His charge, and being so, you have His bond that they shall never want their daily bread."
1643, September.
Jeremiah Burroughs seems to have possessed singular candour, modesty, and moderation, and probably was the gentlest of the five; perhaps he was not always quite consistent, id="FNanchor_421_421[421] being no lover of controversy, but a man who felt himself at home in devotional meditations. He died before the Westminster Assembly broke up,[422] and one of the last sermons which he preached was entitled "Irenicum, or an Attempt to heal Divisions among Christians."
Sydrach Simpson bore a character for learning, piety, and moderation though at one time he was silenced by the Assembly, for differing from them in matters of discipline.
Toleration.
The discussions in which the Independents engaged with their brethren, turned upon the office of Apostles, the distinction between pastors and teachers, the character of ruling elders, ordination, the election of ministers, and the like; but their main controversy hinged on a deeper question. The Presbyterians were anxious to meet the difficulties felt by the Independents, so far as the establishment of one uniform religion would allow; the former were prepared to permit in their large and carefully ramified scheme of ecclesiastical government some little liberty of action, provided that on the whole there was obedience to the established system. Freedom from synodical censure upon certain points was to be conceded to those who upon others submitted to Presbyterian authority. The Assembly would build a huge cathedral for the nation, with small side chapels here and there for the use of certain crotchety people, who might privately pass in and out if they would but always enter through the great door, and walk up the main aisle. This is not what men, calling themselves 'Independent,' have ever liked. The five dissenting brethren did not object to the cathedral being built for those who wished it—but for their own parts, they desired their own places of worship to be quite outside.
1643.
It will be instructive here to pause a moment, and to compare the ground taken by the Independents in this controversy with that occupied by other advocates of toleration of a different class at the same time. Chillingworth, in his famous work on the "Religion of Protestants," observes in a passage of singular eloquence, that the imposing of the senses of men upon the words of God, and the laying of them upon the conscience under penalty of death and damnation—involving the vain conceit that we can speak of the things of God better than in the words of God—is the only fountain of all the schisms of the Church, and that which makes these schisms immortal. He brands the practice as the common incendiary of Christendom, and that which tears into pieces, not merely the coat, but the members of Christ. "Take away," he says, in burning words, "these walls of separation, and all will quickly be one. Take away this persecuting, burning, cursing, damning of men, for not subscribing to the words of men as the words of God; require of Christians only to believe Christ and to call no man Master but Him only; let those leave claiming infallibility that have no title to it, and let them that in their words disclaim it, disclaim it likewise in their actions; in a word, take away tyranny, which is the devil's instrument to support errors, and superstitions, and impieties, in the several parts of the world, which could not otherwise long withstand the power of truth—I say take away tyranny, and restore Christians to their just and full liberty of captivating their understanding to Scripture only; and as rivers, when they have a free passage, run all to the ocean, so it may well be hoped, by God's blessing, that universal liberty, thus moderated, may quickly reduce Christendom to truth and unity."[423]
John Hales, in his little tract on "Schism," complains that it has been the common disease of Christians from the beginning, not to content themselves with that measure of faith which God and Scriptures have expressly afforded us, but to attempt devising things, of which we have no light, either from reason or revelation; "neither have they rested here, but upon pretence of Church authority (which is none) or tradition (which for the most part is but feigned) they have peremptorily concluded, and confidently imposed upon others a necessity of entertaining conclusions of that nature; and, to strengthen themselves, have broken out into divisions and factions, opposing man to man, synod to synod, till the peace of the Church vanished, without all possibility of recall."
Toleration.
The object of both these great reasoners was, without violating conscience, to secure union. They aimed at comprehension, but it was comprehension such as all Puritans condemned. Chillingworth would have had "the public service of God conducted so that all who believe the Scriptures and live accordingly, might without scruple, or honesty, or protestation against any part, join in it;" and Hales went so far as to say: He did not see that men of different opinions in religion might not hold communion in sacred things, and both go to one church. "Why may I not go," he asks, "if occasion require, to an Arian Church, so there be no Arianism expressed in their liturgy? And were liturgies, and public forms of service so framed as that they admitted not of particular and private fancies, but contained only such things as in which all Christians do agree, schisms on opinion were utterly vanished." It is needless to say that this is a species of latitudinarianism which most religious men would consider to be inconsistent with a definite doctrinal belief.
1643.
The most remarkable treatise on the subject of toleration belonging to that age is Jeremy Taylor's "Liberty of Prophesying." In point of eloquence no other work of the kind can be compared with it; and though defective it is still worthy, for the sake of its reasoning as well as its rhetoric, to be a text book for the student of religious liberty. The author dwells, in his own matchless way, on the difficulties of Scripture, the uncertainty of tradition, the insufficiency of councils, the fallibility of popes and fathers, the incompetency of the Church, in its "diffusive character," to be judge of controversies, and the impertinence of any pretence to such a possession of the spirit as preserves from error. Reason is pronounced the best interpreter, and, though some causes of error in the exercise of reason are culpable, many are innocent.[424]
Toleration.
To base toleration on the uncertainty of truth is a very insecure method of proceeding. The alliance of scepticism damages the cause of freedom. Colour is given to the charge, that religious liberty springs from religious indifference. It has cost two centuries of experience and discipline to indoctrinate society with the lesson, that the decision of religious questions without any imposition of human authority is a right of conscience; and that the more earnest we are in the love of truth, the more careful we should be not to sully its sanctity by the unrighteous enforcement of its principles. Taylor fought manfully for freedom, but he did not see the highest vantage ground within his reach. Moreover, in his Essay, comprehension within the Church often seems confounded with religious liberty in the State. No clear distinction is maintained between principles which regulate the one, and principles which vindicate the other. Yet the reader of the treatise may pick out and sort them, for there they are. Taylor teaches the doctrine—that the duty of faith is completed in believing the Articles of the Apostles' Creed; that to multiply tests of orthodoxy and to require assent to points of doubtful disputation "is to build a tower on the top of a bulrush;" and "that the further the effect of such proceedings doth extend, the worse they are." With an amiable self-delusion, characteristic of his pure and child-like nature, he dreamed of a church, combining all varieties of belief consistent with faith in the fundamental verities of the gospel. Though protesting against persecution, he contended for discipline, but confined excommunication simply to an act of spiritual severance. It is difficult to catch exactly what he means by "communicating with dissenting churches"—yet the tone of his remarks, and his reference to the Greek Church, prevent us from supposing that he used the appellation in the way it is commonly employed at present. The division of kingdoms seems to have been with him the only justification of a division of churches; and probably his theory of a national church would not be very different from Dr. Arnold's. He, at the same time, claims toleration for all opinions, not expressed in overt acts injurious to the State; and though he hampers his principle with certain qualifications, which threaten the civil rights of some persons hostile to Christianity, yet his views, if consistently carried out in his own gentle and charitable spirit, would leave little to be complained of by any one. On the whole, Jeremy Taylor was fuller and more satisfactory in his views of comprehension and liberty than was either Chillingworth or Hales.
1643.
Dr. Ralph Cudworth and Dr. Henry More, though they did not propound any theory of toleration, advocated principles and breathed a spirit in their teaching such as could not fail to promote the interests of religious liberty. There is a beautiful sermon by the former of these Divines preached before the House of Commons, in 1647, in which the following characteristic passage occurs:—"The golden beams of truth and the silken cords of love, twisted together, will draw men on with a sweet violence, whether they will or no. Let us take heed we do not sometimes call that zeal for God and His Gospel, which is nothing else but our own temptations and stormy passions. True zeal is a sweet, heavenly, and gentle flame, which makes us active for God, but always within the sphere of love. It never calls for fire from heaven to consume those that differ a little from us in their apprehensions. It is like that kind of lightning (which the philosophers speak of) which melts the sword within, but singeth not the scabbard. It strives to save the soul, but hurteth not the body."[425]
More, who went beyond Cudworth in decided attachment to Episcopacy; sharing in the spirit of his great contemporary, strongly condemned rancour and persecution. "He thought," observes his biographer, "that all persons making conscience of their ways, and that were themselves peaceable and for granting a liberty unto others, ought not to be severely used or persecuted, but borne with as befits weak members till God shall give them greater light."[426]
Toleration.
The groundwork of toleration selected by the Independents differed from that of the Episcopalians. The Independents had ideas of Christian faith, Christian worship, and Christian discipline far more definite and fixed than those of Chillingworth or Hales, or even Taylor; and could not join in any acts or associations inconsistent with their deeply-formed and devout opinions. Arianism, for example, might be deemed simply an intellectual error by men like Hales; but no Athanasian could be stronger in his maintenance of the doctrine of the Trinity, and the importance attached to it, than were these dissenting brethren. They were as remote as possible from anything like latitudinarian theology. Christian dogmas, so called, were held by them with an intense tenacity. Toleration is sometimes reckoned a daughter of indifference, but most certainly in their case toleration can be ascribed to no such parentage. Moreover, the very general kind of devotion in the house of God which would have satisfied Chillingworth, would have starved the spiritual cravings of Jeremiah Burroughs and his companions.
1643.
Nor did the brethren wish for only one church, as did those eminent Episcopalians. They could not, for it was their primary principle that "churches" or "congregations"—with them identical terms—ought to be many. In the existence of one holy Catholic Church, embracing all true Christians, they firmly believed; but they held in perfect consistency with this, that there must be numerous and distinct organized communities, not only in the world, but in the same realm, to be united only by common Christian sympathies. On this point they would be at issue with Jeremy Taylor, as well as with Chillingworth and Hales. They would object to his notion of national churches, as well as to his standard of Christian faith. Their ideas of communion were much more strict, though the extent of their toleration in some respects was more comprehensive. With Taylor's Catholic predilections they would have no sympathy, nor could they agree with him in all he said about Anabaptists. When they came to the same conclusion with the eloquent Churchman, it was by a different course of reasoning.
Toleration.
The fundamental principles of Independency, consistently carried out, could not but lead to the advocacy of a perfect freedom of profession and worship. If churches be select communities composed of Christian believers, standing apart from political powers, and independent of each other in their organization, then it clearly follows that no ecclesiastical authority can touch those who are outside the pale of all particular churches that no temporal penalties can be inflicted on those who are within any such pale and that full liberty of action must be allowed to religionists of every class, and to those also who have no religion at all. Accordingly, Mr. Hallam, an unprejudiced enquirer into this subject, has declared that "the congregationalist scheme leads to toleration, as the national church scheme is adverse to it, for manifold reasons which the reader will discover."[427] A few Independents at an early period discerned the legitimate consequences of their principles. A Brownist petition prepared in the year 1640 prays, "that every man may have freedom of conscience," not excepting Papists; and in a pamphlet published in 1644 it is asked, "whether if security be taken for civil subjection, Papists might not be tolerated? Otherwise," it is added, "if England's government were the government of the whole world, not only they, but a world of idolaters of all sorts, yea the whole world, must be driven out of the world."[428] But the five brethren did not advocate the cause of liberty to that wide extent; and afterwards, during the civil wars and the Protectorate, many Independent Divines, including the leaders of the party, carefully limited their conception of religious freedom.[429]
1643.
But there was one Independent clergyman—John Goodwin—not a member of the Westminster Assembly—who with pre-eminent perspicuity and force expounded the doctrine of toleration. Justice has not been often done to this very able man, owing, perhaps, to the prejudice against him on account of his Arminianism, and to his bold defence of Charles's execution. Calvinists and Royalists were likely to look at him with jaundiced eyes; and it cannot be denied that when assailed, as he often was, Goodwin could give a Roland for an Oliver; and that in a way such as severely galled the victims of his criticism.[430] He remained until 1645 vicar of St. Stephen's, Coleman Street, and at the commencement of the sittings of the Westminster Assembly, though suspected by some of holding Calvinism very loosely, he had not yet entirely abandoned that system. Open and earnest in his advocacy of Independent principles, defending them both from the pulpit and from the press, he also, whilst remaining vicar and discharging his parochial duties, gathered in his parish an Independent church; not, however, preaching separately to that community, but in his more private relationship as an Independent pastor, praying and holding religious conversation with them in his own house—whilst the doors were thrown open for any one to attend the meetings who pleased.
Goodwin heartily approved of the "Narration," though he had no part in the composition of that performance, and when it came under the attack of Presbyterians, he broke a lance on its behalf with the assailants, in a very chivalrous fashion. We do not remember any other statement of the doctrine of toleration in the writings of the Independents of that day so unequivocal as his, expressed in the following words:[431]
Toleration.
"The grand pillar of this coercive power in magistrates is this angry argument: 'What, would you have all religions, sects, and schisms tolerated in Christian churches? Should Jews, Turks, and Papists be suffered in their religions, what confusion must this needs breed both in church and state!' I answer: If, by a toleration, the argument means either an approbation or such a connivance which takes no knowledge of, or no ways opposeth such religions, sects, or schisms as are unwarrantable, they are not to be tolerated; but orthodox and able ministers ought in a grave, sober, and inoffensive manner, soundly from the Scriptures to evince the folly, vanity, and falsehood of all such ways. Others, also, that have an anointing of light and knowledge from God, are bound to contribute occasionally the best of their endeavours towards the same end. In case the minister be negligent, or forgetful of his duty, the magistrate may and ought to admonish him that he fulfil his ministry. If a person, one or more, being members of a particular church, be infected with any heretical or dangerous opinion, and after two or three admonitions, with means of conviction used to regain him, shall continue obstinate, he ought to be cast out from amongst them by that church. If it be a whole church that is so corrupted, the neighbour churches, in case it hath any, ought to admonish it, and to endeavour the reclaiming of it. If it be refractory, after competent admonition and means used for the reducing of it, they may and ought to renounce communion with it, and so set a mark or brand of heresy upon the forehead of it.
If, by a toleration, the argument means a non-suppression of such religions, sects, and schisms by fining, imprisoning, disfranchising, banishment, death, or the like, my answer is—That they ought to be tolerated; only upon this supposition, that the professors of them be otherwise peaceable in the state, and every way subject to the laws and lawful power of the magistrate."[432]
1643.
Toleration.
There is a good deal of controversy as to who was first in the field of toleration. The honour most likely belongs to Leonard Busher. He will be noticed hereafter in connection with the early Baptists. But the controversy is of little importance in relation to the general interests of mankind, compared with the fact that John Locke, at a later period, was the apostle to teach the doctrine effectively to the English nation. He discovers who proves, and the merit of discovery is due to him who first establishes a principle; but he, who adopting what was established before, is more successful in his advocacy of it than his predecessors were, will and ought to be regarded as a superior benefactor of his race, though he may have attributed to him more of the merit of originality than he deserves. Locke brought the doctrine of toleration out of the domain of theology, and placed it on the basis of political righteousness;[433] he established it by common sense reasoning adapted to the English understanding; besides, he did this in the exercise of a peculiar and independent genius; and, what is a more important consideration, his contemporaries were prepared for his instructions by preceding struggles and by possessing already an instalment of legal toleration. Locke is to be distinguished from Busher, Goodwin, and Owen, and from Chillingworth, Hales, and Taylor. He comes more in a line with the first than with the second three names; but he did what they had none of them the power to do—he made the doctrine popular. A parallel may be drawn in this respect between the history of the principle of government non-interference with a man and his conscience, and the principle of government non-interference with commercial interests and the natural laws of demand and supply. Long after the discovery and illustration of the latter principle, a great statesman made plain to the common understanding of his fellow-countrymen what had been before apprehended by only a few philosophers. John Locke occupies a position in the history of toleration like that of Richard Cobden in the history of free trade.
After all, the Independents must be reckoned the chief and most influential of the early apostles of toleration, and to their rise and progress we shall direct attention in the following chapter.
