CHAPTER III.

In 1653 the Long Parliament had worn itself out, and its dissolution had become an inevitable necessity. The last gleams of its expiring light emanated from Sir Harry Vane, whose character and genius chiefly, if not entirely, gave to its latest debates whatever of power and brilliancy they possessed. A true estimate of this previously illustrious senate, in the period of its decadence, must rest upon a full consideration of the opinions and conduct of its remaining members regarded in general, and not upon the exceptional views and virtues of a single distinguished individual. There can be little or no doubt that the effect of the later proceedings of this Parliament was likely to be the ruin of the cause for which it had fought in its earlier years; and even the policy of Vane—who was a sincere champion of the rights of conscience, and the toleration of all religious opinions—from being associated with impracticable republican theories, was not calculated to prevent that deplorable result.

Little Parliament.

Cromwell, who alone at that moment had the sagacity to perceive to the full extent the mischiefs which threatened his country, therefore interposed, with an energy which was as startling as it was bold; and which is now acknowledged by numerous careful students of history to have proceeded from wisdom as really profound as it was, at the time, apparently questionable. Upon the disappearance of the Long Parliament from the chapel of St. Stephen's, there followed the disappearance of Sir Harry Vane from the Cabinet of Whitehall. As an honest republican he could not but condemn the course pursued by his colleague; and the two men—who, with Marten, for some time after the establishment of the Commonwealth were the chief pillars of England—now stood parted from each other in this world for ever. The triumvirate was at an end. It had given place to a virtual monarchy.[43]

But though Cromwell dissolved the Long Parliament he had no idea of ruling England without the assistance of a popular assembly; and hence, within three months after that extraordinary event, a new Parliament was convened at Westminster.

1653, July.

The theory of its constitution was unique. It was to consist of men who were able, who loved the truth, who feared God, and who hated covetousness; so ran the terms employed in certain directions given to the Congregational churches to send up names to the Lord General,[44] out of which list, together with another provided by the council of officers, the members of the new convention were to be selected. There were not wanting, at such a moment, people to tilt their jests—and they asked if the image of Him who rode into Jerusalem upon an ass was not a type of the new deliverer about to ride to a throne on the back of one hundred and twenty asses—that being the number of the Little Parliament.

Little Parliament.

Upon the list of the summoned appears the name of Dennis Hollister—a grocer in High Street, Bristol—a person who had great influence with the magistrates of the city, and who is described in the records of the church of which he was a member,[45] "as Diotrephes-like, loving to have the pre-eminence," and as "sucking in some principles of an upstart locust doctrine, from a sort of people afterwards called Quakers." If there be any truth in such a statement, this new member of Parliament must have been fanatical in one way, while his fellow-members were fanatical in another; and such conflicting phases of fanaticism made the settlement of ecclesiastical business in connexion with the State exceedingly difficult; rendering it necessary for Cromwell to interpose with his strong English common sense, unless affairs were left to fall to ruin. Fanatical people there must have been in this singularly constituted assembly, but it numbered also persons rationally religious; and even in the fanatics there might be redeeming qualities. What they said and did are the truest tests by which to judge of what they really were; and it will be seen, that amidst their follies, some of their words and deeds were of a description not to be despised. Much is said of their birth and station; but the grocers and leather-sellers of that day might be rich and prosperous, and socially on a level with the merchants and cotton-lords, who, in our own time, sit upon the benches at Westminster.[46] There were of the number also, Lords, and Knights, and Colonels; and two of the individuals summoned, who afterwards sat in Charles the Second's House of Peers, as Earl of Albemarle and Earl of Shaftesbury, have been pronounced by history as certainly not the most respectable persons in the Little Parliament.

1653, July.

On the 4th of July, 1653—a very sultry day—the gentlemen met in the Whitehall Council Chamber, and seated themselves round the room on chairs. As Cromwell, with his officers, entered, all present rose and bowed. The General moved his hat, advanced to the middle window, and leaning on the back of a chair, addressed them for more than an hour. Descanting upon religion, he pleaded earnestly that all God's saints should be treated with tenderness, and that if he had seemed to reflect upon those who held Presbyterian opinions, he now thought faithfulness demanded that he should love them. He had, when God had been gracious to him and his companions, often read that passage: "He would plant in the wilderness the cedar, the shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and the oil tree; and He would set in the desert the fir tree, and the pine tree, and the box tree together. That they may see, and know, and consider, and understand together." Therefore he besought his audience to have care for the whole flock—lambs and all—and if the poorest and most mistaken Christian should desire to live peaceably and quietly under the government, let him be protected. He pleaded for a faithful ministry, such as did not derive itself from the Papacy; the true succession being through the Holy Spirit. He never looked, he said, to see such a day as that he now witnessed, Jesus Christ being owned by all. The persons present might not personally be known to each other; but the endeavour in calling that New Parliament had been, not to choose any but such as had hope and faith in Christ. "The Lord," he observed, "shakes the hills and mountains, and they reel; and God hath a hill too, an high hill as the hill of Bashan, and the chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels, and God will dwell upon this hill for ever." Such a speech had never before been delivered at the opening of a Parliament.

When it was finished, a formal instrument devolving authority on the members was placed on the table, with the General's signature and seal, after which he left the Chamber,—politically "nothing more than the brewer's son of Huntingdon."[47]

Little Parliament.

Francis Rouse, provost of Eton, was elected speaker—before which proceeding the members prayed without a chaplain—"Eight or ten speaking in prayer to God, and some briefly from the Word." "Much of the presence of Christ and His Spirit," says a person who was present, "appearing that day to the great gladdening of the hearts of many—some affirming they never enjoyed so much of the spirit and presence of Christ, in any of the meetings and exercises of religion, in all their lives, as they did that day." On the day following they again spent some time in prayer, and prayer, it is recorded, "was daily performed by one member or other, as they were found free to perform it." Presently again they devoted a day to prayer, which "was done by the members, principally by such as had not done service before, when also the Lord General was present, and it was a very comfortable day."[48] The Lord General had been specially invited to join the Assembly, together with Harrison, Desborough, Lambert, and Tomlinson.

Major-General Harrison—a rather noble though not refined-looking man, with flowing locks, irregular features, aquiline nose, and black eyes, often flashing with enthusiasm—had distinguished himself at Basinghouse, Preston, and elsewhere, as a stern soldier, and had been heard by Baxter breaking out into a rapture at Somerton. He was now getting deep in the study of prophecy, and was expecting the reign of the saints to succeed the four great monarchies described by the prophet Daniel. Desborough—a ruder and coarser man than Harrison, as his face, eyebrows, form, and gait all betokened—who had shewn himself a gallant soldier in the storming of Bristol, and had become brother-in-law to Oliver Cromwell—was an Independent, and, after the Restoration, became a member of Dr. Owen's church, in London. Major General Lambert—who had done good service in the wars, had routed the Scots at Linlithgow, and achieved daring feats at Worcester—was Cromwell's particular friend, and adhered to him throughout his career, when others turned their backs; a shrewd, clever, practical sort of person. Tomlinson, Colonel of the Guard at King Charles' execution, was not, beyond that circumstance, at all a noteworthy individual.[49]

1653, July.

The Little Parliament altered the marriage law,[50] which, owing to recent confusion, and consequent irregularities in domestic life, needed amendment. Matrimony was considered by these new legislators in its relation to the State, and was treated by them simply in the character of a civil contract; possibly, in part at least, with the view of diminishing clerical influence, but also with so remarkable an insight into what is just and wise, as to anticipate modern legislation in this respect both in England and on the Continent. Parties were to obtain a certificate from the registrar of the parish, and then solemnly before a justice of the peace to take each other for husband and wife. The religious sanctions of the wedding bond were left entirely to the will of the parties united, and these sometimes were so connected with the secular part of the ceremony, that the service altogether resembled the solemnization of matrimony at the present day in a Nonconformist church in the presence of a registrar.[51]

Question of Tithes.

The Parliament had scarcely commenced its sittings when it entered upon the consideration of the important subject of tithes; and on the 15th of July, it was determined by a majority of twenty-five—in a House consisting of one hundred and eleven members—that the maintenance of ministers by tithes should not be continued after the 3rd day of November following. On the 19th of July, upon a renewal of the debate relative to this subject, the question whether incumbents possessed a propriety in this kind of income, was referred to the consideration of a committee specially appointed for that purpose. And to this same committee a different business was committed on the 26th of the next month. On that day were presented petitions from several churches in Devonshire and Gloucestershire, seeking the further reformation of religion, in connexion with which it was resolved: "That a committee be appointed to consider of some way to be propounded to the House, how ignorant, profane, and scandalous ministers may be rejected; That it be referred to the same committee to consider of some way to be propounded to the House, for the encouragement of such godly and able persons as shall preach the Gospel; and That it be referred to the committee for tithes."[52] The consideration of the question as to whether incumbents had any property in tithes having been previously entrusted to this committee, that question now became mixed up with the other relating to the character of the clergy; and what the Little Parliament ultimately did respecting the one has been supposed to have been a legislative decision of the other, which is not the fact.

1653.

Two parties were in contention, one disposed to retain the old tithe system, the other bent upon supporting ministers in some other way. Harrison led the latter division, and occupied the extreme left in relation to the moderates, who were swayed by Cromwell, and who, as to tithes, agreed with both the Presbyterian and Episcopal parties. The House generally concurred in the opinion that the collection of tithes by the clergy was a grievance; yet perhaps only a few members were prepared to vote for putting an end to that method of support without the provision of some legal substitute. These few, following Harrison, were intent on having the impost repealed at once, leaving only such other provision "as God should direct." A distinction was admitted throughout the debate between the claims of impropriators and the claims of incumbents. The whole House was willing to compensate impropriators in case of the forfeiture of their rights. It was the case of incumbents alone which came under the consideration of the committee. The utmost measure of change formally proposed was, to put an end to the payment of the clergy in the old way, and to equalize benefices by reducing those of £200 per annum and upwards, and by increasing smaller incomes. It was also suggested that a provision should be made to meet the wants of ministers' widows and children.[53]

Question of Tithes.

The larger question respecting ignorant, profane, and scandalous ministers, involved also the minor one touching presentation to benefices; the predominant feeling of the members favoured the right of congregations to choose their own pastors. The Puritan current had long been setting in that direction, and arguments were now urged to the effect that it was unreasonable for people not to be allowed to select their own spiritual guides; much, in short, being advanced upon the subject, of the same kind as is common in the present day. The parties having a pecuniary interest in the maintenance of things as they were, did all they could to keep on their side the men in power. Such people sought protection from the Lord General against what they deemed Parliament-robbery. However, on the 17th of November, the right of presentation to benefices by patrons was condemned by a resolution, and a bill in accordance with it was ordered to be brought in. The effect of this decision was to place the election of the clergy in the hands of parishioners.

1653, December.

On the 2nd of December came the long-expected and much-dreaded report of the Tithe Committee. It first recommended the sending forth of certain authorized commissioners to enquire into ministerial character, and next it gave a deliverance with regard to ministerial maintenance. As this portion of the report is so imperfectly explained by historians, we will present it to the reader as it is printed in the journals:—

"Resolved—That it be presented to the Parliament: That all such as are, or shall be approved for public preachers of the Gospel in the public meeting-places, shall have and enjoy the maintenance already settled by law, and such other encouragement as the Parliament already hath appointed, or hereafter shall appoint; and that where any scruple payment of tithes, the three next justices of the peace, or two of them, shall, upon complaint, call the parties concerned before them, and by the oaths of lawful witnesses shall duly apportion the value of the said tithes, to be paid either in money or land, by them to be set out according to the said value, to be held and enjoyed by him that was to have the said tithes; and, in case such apportioned value be not duly paid or enjoyed, according to the order of the said justices, the tithes shall be paid in kind, and shall be recovered in any court of record. Upon hearing and considering what hath been offered to this Committee touching propriety in tithes of incumbents, rectors, possessors of donatives, or propriate tithes, it is the opinion of this Committee, and resolved to be so reported to the Parliament, that the said persons have a legal propriety in tithes."[54]

An earnest debate ensued, "managed day by day," says one who was present, "with very great seriousness, many arguments and Scriptures being alleged," and "very little of heat or passion being shewed all that time, only one gentleman or two that were for the report, seeing themselves and their party so engaged, flew out a little, complaining of the expense of time, to have given a check to the going on of the debate."[55] The first part of the report, relating to the method of removing scandalous ministers, upon being put to the vote, was rejected by a majority of two, fifty-six voting against fifty-four. The second part, relating to the mode of supporting ministers, and the rights of property possessed by incumbents, was not put to the vote at all. The probable rejection of it might be inferred, but no formal rejection was expressed. What is sometimes represented as the decided abolition of tithes amounted to no more than the rejection of a Committee of Triers. That Committee was a favourite scheme of Cromwell's, and was afterwards by him practically carried out; he also favoured the continuance of the old method of supporting ministers. But the Little Parliament indicated a wish to change that method; yet what they decided now, and even their distinct votes against tithes in the preceding July, did not necessarily imply that they intended to terminate altogether the state maintenance of religious worship.[56]

Fifth Monarchy Men.

It is desirable here once more to pause, and to consider the opinions of Fifth Monarchy men, who were at this time becoming very numerous and very active.

They may be divided into three classes. The first was composed of mere millenarians, who entertained views not essentially different from those which had been held in ancient times with regard to the reign of Christ upon the earth; and whatever may be thought of these persons in some other respects, their opinions cannot be regarded as involving anything discreditable to their reputation, inasmuch as in substance those opinions had received the sanction of a great scholar, Henry Mead, and of a distinguished philosopher, Henry Moore.

1653.

The second class consisted of theoretical theocrats, people who talked in an extravagant manner respecting Divine dominion, and generally opposed the authority of Oliver Cromwell; yet they appear to have been inoffensive persons, not at all disposed to attempt any violent measures for the realization of their wild and mystical dreams. John Tillinghurst, the now forgotten author of several publications on prophecy, which were popular at the time of which we are speaking, belonged to this order of anti-Cromwell millenarians, who were very bold and busy, but for the most part very harmless. Some of them wrote and preached with great confidence upon the prophecies of Daniel and the Revelations of St. John, only to find, in a short time, their theories exploded by the criticism of facts.

But the third class included a number of practical theocrats who blended republican ideas with their theological speculations, and who were quite disposed, whenever the opportunity offered, to open by force a path by which the saints might advance to the government of the world. Venner before and after the Restoration went even this length; and Harrison, although a different man from Venner, was also a military theologian, ready with carnal weapons to cast down strongholds. Certain Anabaptists also belonged to the same division.

Fifth Monarchy Men.

The fifth monarchy fever, in its fanatical symptoms, threatened much mischief to English society. As in the tenth century the notion then so common throughout Europe—that the end of the world had come, that the whole social fabric had crumbled away, and was to give place to an order of things just on the point of descending from heaven—proceeded from the existing confusion of the age; so the prevalence of fifth monarchy dreams, in the earlier part of the Commonwealth, was aided, no doubt, by the convulsions which had so rudely shaken the whole of the British Empire. The actual overthrow of the hierarchy, the peerage, and the throne, with the desolations of civil war, and the disturbance of the whole country, could not but throw the minds of many into a maddening whirl, and dash them completely off their balance. Fifth monarchism arose, in a great measure, out of the ruins of English monarchism. The enthusiastic visions which absorbed certain minds were, to a large extent, the effect of prevalent disorder. Men's brains were crazed by what they had recently witnessed, and their insanity created omens of other things, brighter or more terrible, which were yet to come.

1653.

During the sittings of the Little Parliament, the fifth monarchy delusion reached its height; and to that delusion, though not to that alone, may be attributed, as to their cause, certain incidents which, although exaggerated by both Clarendon and Baxter, were not by any means imaginary. These writers speak of this period, as if the very existence of the Christian ministry, of rational religion, of the two Universities, and of Christian learning in general, were then on the point of complete extinction.[57] Things certainly were not in that condition. What was actually done in reference to the support of the clergy has been already described, and it can by no means be made to sustain the sweeping assertions of those authors; yet, notwithstanding, the interests of the great seats of education were placed in fearful jeopardy, as will appear when we have to notice the history of the University of Oxford at that time; nor can it be denied that the demolition of some noble ecclesiastical edifices had been contemplated even before the breaking up of the Long Parliament. The Norwich Corporation, so early as 1650, debated what should be done with the cathedral of that city; and in the same year, Yarmouth was seeking to share in the spoil.[58] Further still, on the 9th of July, 1652, it was referred to a committee by the House of Commons, to consider this question: "What cathedrals are fit to stand, and what to be pulled down." Such intended destruction betokened other spoliations, and the Long Parliament having set such an example, the Little Parliament had encouragement to proceed in a similar path.

The proceedings of Harrison and his party could not fail to alarm the Presbyterians; even the Independents, with Cromwell at their head, in spite of their broad views of ecclesiastical questions, were also convinced that nothing but confusion could result from the wild schemes of republican visionaries and Fifth Monarchists. The country could not feel confidence in those who formed the slight majority of the House, and sober-minded men apprehended nothing but ruin from the continuance of their power. The Parliament itself, with such an even balance of parties, and amidst so much distraction, had a consciousness of its own incapacity, which led the members speedily to resign their powers into the Lord General's hands.[59]

Feake at Blackfriars.

This resignation, Cromwell's acceptance of it, and his consequent assumption of supreme authority, drove the millenarian democrats into a still more violent expression of extravagant views, and into still more decidedly energetic opposition to the Lord General. Preachers of that day, in close alliance with Harrison, advocated in the pulpit the cause which he and his party upheld in the senate. A House at Blackfriars is repeatedly mentioned in contemporary letters as the head quarters of this menacing agitation. Feake—a well-known Anabaptist and Fifth Monarchy man—there held forth in a strain of rude eloquence, and greatly distinguished himself as leader of a large band of sympathizing disciples. To letters written by contemporaries we are chiefly indebted for what we know of the proceedings of these enthusiasts.

1653.

"I know not," says the writer of an intercepted epistle, "whether you have formerly heard of the Monday's lecture at Blackfriars, where three or four of the Anabaptistical ministers preach constantly, with very great bitterness, against the present Government, but especially against his Excellency, calling him 'the man of sin,' 'the old dragon,' and many other scripture ill names; the chief of them is one Feake, a bold and crafty orator, and of high reputation amongst them. It has been wondered the General has so patiently permitted them; but yesterday I heard the true reason of it, which is, that he cannot help it, for they preach by an Act of the late Parliament, which the council of state cannot over-rule, and this Parliament will not abolish it; but on Tuesday last, as I take it, they were called before a private committee, where your General was present, who told them that the ill odour they had cast upon the Government has given confidence to our enemies abroad and at home, (meaning the Scots,) and would bring the Parliament into contempt; and that whatsoever ill effect followed, they must be accountable for it. Feake replied that he desired that what the General said and what he answered might be recorded in heaven; and that it was his tampering with the king, and his assuming an exorbitant power, which made these disorders; and so held forth the Fifth Monarchy. The General answered, that when he heard him begin with a record in heaven, he did not expect that he would have told such a lie upon earth; but assured him that whensoever they should be harder pressed by the enemy than they yet had been, it would be necessary to begin first with them; and so dismissed them. I forgot to tell you that the General had brought Sterry,[60] and two or three more of his ministers, to oppose spirit to spirit, and to advise Feake and the rest to obedience, as the most necessary way to bring in the kingdom of Christ. But it is believed we shall have very much trouble from the Anabaptists, yet it is thought their power is nothing so great in the army as in the House; they have none above a captain of their party besides Harrison, who, it is thought, will betray all the rest: but whether the General will ease himself of those in the House by the old way of purging, or the new one of dissolving, rests in his own and his officers' breasts."[61]

1653, December.

The district of Blackfriars claimed to be independent of the municipal authorities of London. The inhabitants asserted an inheritance of the privileges of sanctuary, formerly pertaining to that famous monastery which had given its name to the neighbourhood. Hence, to find shelter and protection within the precincts of the ancient foundation, players, who had been driven out of the city, here erected a theatre; and Papists, who were proscribed by law, here assembled for worship. And it is not a little curious that Puritans also were somewhat numerous in the same locality; a fact which is indicated by their presenting what seems to have been an influential petition to the Lords of the Privy Council against the continuance of stage-plays by their dramatic neighbours.[62] Blackfriars, as we have seen, is also mentioned among the places in which certain Nonconformists were wont to meet in the first quarter of the seventeenth century; and in this same place we now meet with an Anabaptist assembly listening to the popular preachers of millenarianism.

Feake and Powell.

A letter from an eye-witness communicates additional information respecting these meetings. The writer states that he had been to one of them, and had heard Feake preach upon the subject of the little horn described in the book of Daniel; and he states that in the course of the sermon the preacher exclaimed, "I know some would have the late King Charles to be meant by this little horn; but as I said at first, I'll name nobody. God will make it clear shortly to His people who is meant here." When Feake had concluded his portion of the service, Vavasour Powell continued to discourse on the same subject, in a similar strain of interpretation—still more explicitly reflecting on public men and measures than his predecessor had done—interpreting the king of the north to signify the late monarch, and inveighing bitterly against the military commanders of the day, as the sole cause of the pressure of taxation. The leading points of the sermon were, that Christ was setting up a fifth monarchy in the world; that a spirit of prophecy had been communicated to the saints, whereby they were enabled to describe future events; and that the design of Christ was to destroy all antichristian forms, including established churches together with their clergy. Upon this third particular, the reporter states that Powell was somewhat copious, and said "they must down, though they were never so strongly protected, for Christ is none of their Lord Protectors, though the army-men protect them." "Yes," said he, "and rather than those shall down, they will pull Parliaments in pieces, and this made them break the last Parliament; for on Saturday, the 10th of December, the House refused to settle a commission of ministers to ride in circuits, as the judges did, and judge who were fit to be continued or put out of their livings, and so to maintain them upon the old corrupt foundation still. And when the House would not yield that these antichristian clergymen and tithes should be upheld, then, on Monday following, in the morning, they were thrust out (I mean the few honest men of them that were present) by violence; and the rest (as they had agreed beforehand) went and subscribed their names to a paper giving up their authority in the name of the whole; whereas none of the honest men would subscribe or surrender, save only some three or four, who have since professed their hearty sorrow to me for it. This is true, and we must speak it out, for our mouths shall not be stopped with paper-proclamations." ... Further, in relation to the Parliament, he remarked, "they were broken by force, and it was a business plotted by the great army-men, clergymen, and their party together." ... Powell afterwards "flew into many strange ejaculations, 'Lord! what have our army-men all apostatized from their principles? What is become of all their declarations, protestations, and professions? Are they choked with lands, and parks, and manors? Let us go home, and pray, and say, 'Lord, wilt Thou have Oliver Cromwell to reign over us, or Jesus Christ to reign over us.'" "I know," he proceeded, "there are many gracious souls in the army, and of good principles, but the greater they grow, the more they are corrupted with lands and honours. I'll tell you, it was a common proverb that we had among us of the General, that in the field he was the graciousest and most gallant man in the world; but out of the field, and when he came home to government, the worst." This strange preacher told his congregation that "snares were laid for them, and spies set over them, and that they might be deprived of the benefit of meeting in that place. But then (said he) we will meet at another, and if we be driven thence, we will meet at private houses, and if we cannot have liberty there, we will into the fields, and if we be driven thence, we will into corners, for we will never give over, and God will not permit this spirit to go down. He will be the support of the spirits of His people. He complained also of the faltering of divers who had formerly been very forward at this meeting, but now drew back, and therefore he prayed that the Lord would hold up the meeting."[63]

1653, December.

Powell having concluded, somebody seated in one corner of the gallery began to speak, and would have replied to the preacher; but, though he strained his voice with the utmost violence to overcome the outcries of the congregation, he was compelled, after half-an-hour's tumult, to hold his peace. A Mr. Colaine, amidst the confusion, ascended the pulpit, and afterwards expounded the fifth chapter of Hosea, representing the state of things in England as parallel to that which the prophet portrayed, and inveighing strongly against the national clergy of Antichrist, and the parochial priests of Baal.

According to another letter, personal allusions to Cromwell even yet more violent occurred in the discourses of these misguided men. Powell and Feake called him "the dissemblingist perjured villain in the world," and desired any friends of his, who might be present, to go and report this to him, adding, that the Protector's reign would be short, and "that he should be served worse than that great tyrant the last Lord Protector was, he being altogether as bad, if not worse than he."[64]

Feake and Powell.

These fanatics threw themselves with earnestness into the Dutch war. That conflict, looking at the political and religious character of the combatants, strikes us as very strange, both parties being republicans, and both being defenders of religious liberty: but it had arisen from commercial and maritime rivalries, into which additional bitterness had been shed by the natural sympathies of the Prince of Orange with the Stuart family. A confederation of the two commonwealths, for the promotion of civil freedom and the interests of Protestantism throughout Europe, formed an English dream at the end of the civil wars; and what had at first been contemplated as a subject for peaceful negotiation was afterwards absurdly sought to be accomplished by naval battles. The republican zeal and Protestant fervour of Feake and his friends enlisted them on the side of a thorough union between the two states, and they stipulated for it as an indispensable condition of peace. That England should persevere till Holland could be yoked to her in humble submission for the attainment of these civil and religious ends, constituted a staple theme in the harangues at Blackfriars. Conciliation and compromise were condemned. The preachers denounced in the wildest way the statesman-like views of Cromwell, who felt anxious to put an end to the deadly struggle of two countries, between which policy as well as justice dictated alliance with mutual independence. His opponents did all they could to stir up the people of England against the Netherlanders, and one of the Dutch deputies, who went to hear them, wrote home, declaring that their sermons were "most horrid trumpets of fire, murder, and flame."[65] Millenarianism thus became mixed up with political schemes; and these Commonwealth visionaries believed that God had given Holland to the English as a "landing place of the saints, whence they should proceed to pluck the whore of Babylon from her chair, and to establish the kingdom of Christ on the Continent."[66]

Between the resignation of the Little Parliament on the 12th of October, and the date of the last of these letters, a great change had come over the government of England. Cromwell and his council of officers, "after several days seeking of God," had determined formally to avow the perpetuation of what was already a fact—that supreme authority should rest in a single person, even in Oliver himself. His title was to be "Lord Protector," and with him was to be associated "a council of godly, able, and discreet persons," consisting of not more than twenty-one.

Cromwell made Protector.

On Friday, the 16th of December, about three o'clock in the afternoon, his Highness went in procession from Whitehall to the Court of Chancery in Westminster. Commissioners of the Great Seal, scarlet-robed Judges and Barons, and the Lord Mayor and Corporation of London, with the usual accompaniments of civic splendour, were in attendance on the occasion. There on a dais stood a chair of state, near to a table on which lay a roll of parchment, containing, in a summary of forty-two articles, the fundamental principles of the Protectorate government.[67] His Highness having subscribed the document, and having sworn to maintain the constitution which it prescribed, sat down on his throne, and then received into his hands the great seal of the realm, the Lord Mayor's sword, and the cap of maintenance. His portrait at that moment has been sketched in the following graphic words: "Fifty-four years old gone April last; brown hair and moustache are getting gray;" "massive stature; big massive head, of somewhat leonine aspect—wart above the right eye-brow; nose of considerable blunt aquiline proportions; strict yet copious lips, full of all tremulous sensibilities, and also, if need were, of all fierceness and rigours; deep, loving eyes, call them grave, call them stern, looking from under those craggy brows as if in life-long sorrow."[68]

As the Protector returned to Whitehall, the Lord Mayor, uncovered, carried the sword before him; and in the banqueting house, Mr. Lockier, the Protector's chaplain, delivered an exhortation; after which the Lord Mayor, the Aldermen, and the Judges all departed home.[69]

State of Affairs at the Time.

A very wonderful day's work was that of the 16th of December.[70] It was an act of usurpation beyond all doubt, yet one which it would be pedantic to criticise according to constitutional rules. For when a house is catching fire, or a vessel is on the edge of a rock, people in their senses do not expect that a strong man, who can extinguish the flame, or steer the ship into open waters, should stand on ceremony and wait for red-tape formalities. A crisis had come, such as must come in the wake of great revolutions, when, however firmly we may maintain Locke's principles of the origin of government, we find people in such a state of perfect helplessness, and former rulers so utterly destitute of power to rule, so incapable, so inevitably rushing to destruction, dragging the whole country along with them—that in mercy to mankind we feel all theories woven of the wisest webs must be laid aside, and a competently skilful hand be allowed to gather up the scattered threads in such fashion as it may be able. Public affairs had now reached such a crisis that the alternative was a Protector or destruction, Cromwell or chaos. The fire long kindling now at length burst into a blaze, and there was only one man who could put an end to the conflagration. The ship was within an inch of foundering, and there remained but one pilot who had the power of steering her off the rocks.

1653.

The Church, it should be recollected, had not ceased to be a State Church. The constant discussion of its affairs by Parliament and the Council of State implied its continued subjection to secular control. No scheme of severance had been propounded, though certain proposals had been made which might seem to involve such a result. However desirable it may appear to some of our readers that the civil and ecclesiastical powers in a country should stand each on its own basis, and not interfere with one another's action; whatever anticipations may be formed of a new and better era of Christian civilization, to be inaugurated when a separation of the Church from the State shall take place, subject to the authority of New Testament teaching, aided by the lights of experience through the exercise of political sagacity, and under the inspiration of Christian disinterestedness; yet every one must see that the time had not then come for such a revolution. Such a revolution involved not only the settlement of questions touching ecclesiastical property and revenue, but also the determination of two other points, namely, that religion should be left to its own unfettered exercise, and that no man should be disqualified by his theological opinions for the discharge of the offices and the enjoyment of the honours of the State. Now, without doing injustice to the character of the Little Parliament, we certainly may go so far as to say that it never indicated the possession of that clearsightedness, that deep wisdom, and that broad sympathy which are essential to the satisfactory solution of the practical problems included in the change just indicated. The members had neither the intellectual nor the moral qualifications requisite for the task. It was in those days more difficult than it is at present to draw the line where free religious action comes to an end, and something else quite different from it begins; for millenarian opinions ran over into Fifth Monarchy schemes, and the Dutch wars had become mixed up in men's brains with the dominion of the saints. The Little Parliament lacked the mental power necessary in those days for carrying out the doctrines of voluntaryism, even had they understood them. But they did not understand them. Had they done so, they would not have clung to the idea in any form, of the State supporting the Christian ministry, nor would they have cherished the conviction that certain theological qualifications are indispensable for the discharge of political trusts.

State of Affairs at the Time.

And further, if the Little Parliament had been composed of the wisest of mortals, and had plainly and skilfully propounded a system of pure voluntaryism, such as is ably and successfully advocated in our own time, still, with the Presbyterians all against them; with many of the Independents against them; and with the Episcopalians also against them; in short, with the bulk of the wealth, of the intelligence, and of the power of the country against them—how useless would have been their attempts to work out the measure. Common sense teaches, and voluntaryism in its very nature implies, that before it can be established as the exclusive method of dealing with spiritual interests, a very large number of those who have to adopt it must be convinced of its wisdom. And as to the alternative of revising the Establishment, and placing it upon grounds adapted to the needs of existing society, that also was an undertaking which, it is needless to repeat, the Little Parliament did not accomplish, and one, too, with which the whole history of that Assembly proved that it was utterly incompetent to deal. The whole web of ecclesiastical affairs had raveled out, and it devolved on a more than ordinarily skilful hand to gather up the threads and arrange them in some sort of order.

1653.

Cromwell ever shewed himself to be a practical man, by no means wedded to any fine-spun theory. No ideal republic, such as was conceived by Plato or by Harrington, floated before his imagination. In this respect a marked distinction existed between him and his contemporaries of the philosophical schools which were led by Sir Harry Vane and Algernon Sidney; and, as in pure politics, so in ecclesiastical politics, he aimed simply at accomplishing what he saw to be practicable. His strong religious feelings, the mystic cast of his piety, his enthusiastic faith in prayer and providence, never turned him aside from plain paths of human action, where he could get common people to walk and work beside him. Whatever idea he might have had as to what was best in itself, and under other circumstances than those of England in his own day, then rocking with the throes of revolution, certainly the plan which he adopted was not that of attempting the exclusive establishment of a voluntary system of supporting religion. He saw that to alienate church property from sacred uses—had he wished to do so—would arouse against him at once all the Presbyterians of the country, and would give them a rallying point and a battle cry quite sufficient to render them irresistible. He knew, that supported in this respect by Episcopalians, and not without sympathy amongst Independents, the Presbyterians would have protested against spoliation, and would have contended for the inviolateness of tithe property with a temper too fierce and with an amount of influence too strong for any government to resist with success. He perceived the wisdom of conciliating the Presbyterian party, and even on that ground he would shrink from provoking them by the confiscation of all church revenues. His keen eye also discerned such a spirit in some of the sects, such violent anti-social principles abroad, such elements seething in the cauldron of religious excitement, that he felt it would not be safe to leave all theological teachers at that time to do and say just what they liked without any sort of legal restraint. The liberty which he believed it just and right to concede in reference to the discussion of simple questions of divinity, he did not consider it just and right to afford to all sorts of semi-political agitations; which, under the cover of prophetical study and of transcendental schemes of society, directly tended to overthrow all law and order, and with law and order, the very liberty which such enthusiasts themselves really desired to enthrone.

Cromwell's Policy.

What, then, was the kind of National Church which Cromwell's practical sagacity led him to establish? Though he might not work according to any definite theory, and was mainly prompted by the quick insight of his own genius, yet there could not but be some principles lying at the basis of his operations. Three politico-ecclesiastical theories of union may be entertained: that of the Church's mistress-ship over the State, that of the Church's servitude to the State, and that of the Church's marriage with the State. What the Lord Protector aimed at accomplishing appears far removed from the first of these. He would not allow Presbyters, or Pastors, or Preachers of any kind, any more than Anglican Priests, to lord it over the people. He would carry the staff in his own hands. At the same time, he did not put the Church in perfect servitude. Though Erastian in one way, his method of ecclesiastical government does not appear to have been so in another. Whilst the appointment and recognition of ministers receiving State pay were placed under the authority of persons who owed their official position to State appointment, yet the inner working, the worship, and the discipline of Churches continued to be left free to a very large extent. Perhaps, on the whole, Cromwell's Broad Church embodied more of the idea of the marriage of the Church with the State than any other Establishment which ever existed.[71]

1653.

His ecclesiastical policy rested on five principles:—State recognition, State control, State support, State protection, and State penalties. How those principles were developed in Cromwell's administration will be seen in the next chapter.