CHAPTER XXIII.

The Cabal crumbled to pieces in 1673. It had never been guided by any common principles; it had never felt any community of interest; it had never been united by personal sympathies. Our notions of cabinet councillors bound together by some characteristic policy, do not apply to the reign of Charles II., when a Ministry included persons of divers opinions, drawn together simply by the choice of the Sovereign, who selected them mainly for the discharge of executive duties. The want of cohesion apparent in all the cabinets of that period was singularly conspicuous in this instance. Clifford was compelled to resign office by the operation of the Test Act; Shaftesbury, dismissed from the office of Chancellor, went over, accompanied by Buckingham, to the Opposition; and Arlington, threatened with impeachment, relinquished his Secretaryship of State for a quiet post in the Royal household. Lauderdale alone retained his seals, thenceforth, however, to be chiefly employed in the administration of Scotch affairs.

EARL OF DANBY.

Sir Thomas Osborne, created Earl of Danby, having taken up the White Staff which Clifford had laid down, now became principal minister; and from his business talents and his love for the power and emoluments of office, he acquired an influence over the Royal councils, like that of Clarendon in his palmy days. He resembled his great predecessor in his opposition to Popery, not less than in his abilities and in his ambition; but he was much more of an Englishman, and thoroughly detested the idea of truckling to France. In that respect his policy differed from the policy of the Cabal; but he inherited from that Ministry the practice of bribing Parliament—carrying corruption even further than ever the Cabal had done—for, whereas they only bought speeches, he bought votes as well. His policy was decidedly Protestant in foreign affairs, as the means of attaining his objects; and also, from his own predilections, he especially sought to gratify the old Cavaliers and the High Church party. Clarendon had been accused of neglecting the friends of the martyred King, and of being indifferent to his memory: Danby now gave the former encouragement; and he also did honour to the latter, by recovering the bronze statue of Charles I., and by setting it up at Charing Cross. He earnestly promoted the rebuilding of St. Paul's Cathedral, and, at the same time, turned his attention to the Dissenters; but it was to restrain their liberty and to check their progress, both of which had received an impetus during the latter part of the administration of the Cabal. Danby, and Sir Heneage Finch, now Lord Keeper, called to their councils, relative to Church affairs, two prelates whom the Nonconformists exceedingly disliked, and not without reason,—Morley, Bishop of Winchester, and Ward, Bishop of Salisbury. These prelates, it was inferred, recommended the King to call in the licenses for worship, which, notwithstanding the cancelling of the Declaration, had not yet been individually withdrawn.[613]

1673–5.

The reign of intolerance returned, and the weight of its iron mace fell upon multitudes. The men who before, rather than countenance an exercise of illegal power, or share their liberty with the Papist, had rejected the Indulgence, or supported the Test Act, now felt how cruelly they were rewarded by Parliament for their zeal against Absolutism and Popery; whilst others, who had taken no part in their proceedings, found themselves treated just like their neighbours. The Court, incensed at being thwarted in their plans respecting Popery, despatched informers to ferret out Protestant Nonconformists. The drum ecclesiastic was loudly beaten, and a High Churchman, in his sermon before the House of Commons, told the honourable members that the Nonconformists could be cured only by vengeance; and that the best way was to set "fire to the faggot;" and to teach these obstinate people "by scourges or scorpions;" and to "open their eyes with gall."[614]

NEW TEST.

One of the most vexatious impositions enacted immediately after the Restoration was the oath presented by the Corporation Act, declaring that it was unlawful under any pretence to bear arms against the King. This oath was introduced into the Act of Uniformity, with the addition that the Covenant entailed no obligation "to endeavour any change or alteration of Government in Church or State,"—this formulary repudiating the Covenant being intended only for temporary use, to expire at the end of twenty years. But now another test was proposed in the House of Lords, if not by the suggestion, yet with the sanction of Danby,—a test which went so far as to require the following declaration: "I do swear that I will not endeavour an alteration of the Protestant religion now established by law in the Church of England; nor will I endeavour any alteration in the Government of this kingdom in Church or State, as it is by law established."[615] Such a declaration is so utterly opposed to all the sentiments and traditions of Englishmen, that it fills us with wonder that it could even have been thought of,—yet it was contrived as a thing to be imposed upon every member of Parliament, and upon all persons holding office under the Crown. The King, at that period under an hallucinating desire for Absolutism, threw himself with so much energy into the conflict, that he attended constantly on the debate, standing at the fire-side in the Upper House, day after day for seventeen days, listening to the oratory of the Peers. Not only the Lord Treasurer Danby, but the Lord Keeper Finch encouraged this assault upon the liberties of their country; and it must not be concealed that the two prelates, who had already signalized themselves by their intolerance, Morley and Ward, now united with the two temporal Lords in this matricidal attempt. Their most determined, most able, and eloquent opponent was the Earl of Shaftesbury. On this occasion certainly he did good service to the cause of freedom. He prolonged the sittings till he wearied his enemies, and most unmercifully did he lash the Bishops for the part which they took in the debate. He asked, what were the boundaries of the Protestant religion, which the new oath required men to swear they would never alter? He pointed out defects in the Church of England, and dwelt upon the conflicting interpretations which her standards had received from her own Divines; and he inquired, whether it would be a crime to make an alteration, by bringing back the Liturgy to what it had been in the days of Elizabeth? One occupant of the Episcopal Bench, who since his elevation had rarely entered a pulpit, whispered to a friend, loud enough in the ill-constructed house to be heard by his neighbours, "I wonder when he will have done preaching!" "When?" continued Shaftesbury, "when I am made a Bishop, my Lord."

1675.

We cannot follow the discussions upon the Bill: our brief notice of which is introduced for the purpose of indicating its tendency with regard to the Church,—by investing it with a fictitious infallibility, by fostering towards it an admiration as fatal as it was foolish, since it tended to prevent the increase of its benefits, through the reform of its abuses. It is enough to add, that, after dragging the country to the verge of a convulsion, the Government felt compelled to abandon the Bill.[616]

Comprehension came anew under consideration.

Overtures respecting this point were made in the early part of the year 1673 to Richard Baxter by the Earl of Orrery. He professed that many influential persons desired such a result, and mentioned the names of the new Lord Treasurer, and Morley, Bishop of Winchester, "who vehemently professed his desires of it."[617]

COMPREHENSION.
1675.

Messages and meetings, on the same subject, followed in the spring of 1675—after Morley had, during two or three sessions of Parliament, "on all occasions, in the company of lords, gentlemen, and divines, cried out of the danger of Popery, and talkt much for abatements and taking in the Nonconformists, or else" all were "like to fall into the Papists' hands." Bates brought to Baxter a message from Tillotson, to the effect that Tillotson and Stillingfleet wished for a meeting with himself, Manton, and others. The anxiety of the Presbyterians for some accommodation, as they called it, became notorious; and Baxter repeatedly showed now, as he had done before, the sincerity and earnestness of his solicitude in reference to the matter.[618] Prolonged debate and voluminous correspondence; the discussion of principles, and the arrangement of details; questions, answers, strictures, rejoinders could not quench the ardour of the man who combined in one, the qualities of a theological disputant and an apostle of union—qualities which in his case served to neutralize each other. He had faith in some of his Episcopalian brethren, as disposed to meet him half way. Witchcot, Stillingfleet, Gifford, Tillotson, Cradock, Outram, he speaks of with honour; declaring he made no doubt, if the matter could be left in such hands, that differences would be "healed in a few weeks' time."[619] But in the Bishop of Winchester he had no faith.[620] The inconsistencies of Morley may perhaps he understood by examining into what were probably the motives of his conduct. His main policy was to protect the Establishment, on the basis of the Act of Uniformity, against Papists on the one hand, and against Dissenters on the other. He shared in the alarm which conversions to Rome and the encroachments of that Church inspired throughout England at the time; and, partly from that cause, he was induced to support the Bill just described, thinking by the new oath which stereotyped the Church, to prevent an invasion by the enemy. But now the Bishop might conceive that it would be desirable to consolidate English Protestantism. Strength was being wasted by internecine warfare, at a moment when Episcopalians and Presbyterians stood before a common foe. It was the story of the Crusaders repeated. Why not gather the forces of the Church and of the sects, and concentrate them upon the great enemy of the country's liberty and peace? Such impressions, under the circumstances, were not unnatural in the mind of a man like Morley. Thus influenced, he would talk and act, as Baxter, with strong suspicions of his sincerity, reports him to have done. Yet at the time Morley might be perfectly sincere, although a reaction of prejudice, after a time, proved too much for his new-born zeal in behalf of union. The schemes of 1673 and 1675 met with the same fate as the schemes of 1667 and 1668.[621]

Parliament prorogued in June, reassembled the 13th of October, when the Lord Keeper, in his opening speech, called renewed attention to ecclesiastical affairs. He said that His Majesty had so often recommended the consideration of religion, and so very often expressed a desire for the assistance of the Houses in his care and protection of it, that "the Defender of the Faith," had become "the advocate of it too," and had left those without excuse, who remained under any kind of doubts or fears—"Would you," asked he, "raise the due estimation and reverence of the Church of England to its just height?" "All your petitions of this kind will be grateful to the King."[622]

PERSECUTION.

The persecution of Nonconformists continued to depend very much upon the temper of neighbours and the character of magistrates. In some cases their meetings were broken up, and they were taken prisoners; but, in other cases, they were allowed to assemble in their places of worship without molestation, much to the annoyance of impotent enemies. A Government correspondent in the town of Lynn reported a private meeting of about forty of "the Presbyterian gang," discovered by the Curate and officers of the parish of St. Margaret. These Nonconformists made their escape, but "enough were taken notice of to make satisfaction of the rest," and they "were to be presented according to law."

1675.

The Nonconformists at Yarmouth continued their meetings publicly, and in as great numbers as ever. This sufferance, it was complained, filled with impudence people who, when the laws were put in execution, were as tame as lambs.[623] The same informant who states this, reports that the "Bishop of Norwich had sent to know how many persons received the communion at Church, and what was the number of recusants and Nonconformists; and that the ministers and churchwardens feared if they should make the Dissenting party so great as they are, it might put some fear in His Majesty, and discourage him in attempting to reform them, they judging their number has been the only cause they have been so favourably dealt with hitherto." "Of the same opinion," he observes, "they are in other parts as well as here, so that there is likely to be an imperfect account." Not above 500, it is affirmed, would be found to be in communion with the Church of England. As to Dissenters, says this writer, "how many of them were in Church fellowship, as they term it, or break bread together, I am certain here is not one hundred men besides the women." He adds, "The greater number of people there, as elsewhere, were the profane and unstable, who were on the increase, tending to an unsettlement either in Church or State."[624]

It is curious to notice the changing fortunes of Dissenters—how, after a lull of peace, they were overtaken again by a storm of trouble. The copious correspondence of the Yarmouth informer traces the history in that town time after time. The bailiff was stimulated to interfere, and he issued his warrant to the constables to assist in dispersing the illegal worshippers; but it seems to have been difficult to get these officers to act in the business, since there were three of their number who "daily frequented" the reprobated place of worship. It being reported that the Anabaptists were meeting to the number of 80 or 90, the constables were sent to disperse them, and they took five of the chief into custody. The correspondent exultingly adds, "Several of the Nonconformist grandees came yesterday to our Church, and of the common sort, so many as filled our Church fuller than ever I saw it since the year 1665."[625]

In the autumn of the same year Dissenting affairs at Yarmouth took another favourable turn. Their approved friends having recovered the helm of municipal affairs, Nonconformists were regarded as more dangerous than ever, for their meetings were held at break of day within closed doors. For two Sundays the angry correspondent was awakened out of his sleep, the schismatics kept up such a trampling as they passed the streets under his window, that he rose out of his bed to see what could be the matter.[626]

COFFEE-HOUSES.

It is sometimes forgotten, but it is worth remark, that other meetings, besides Conventicles, were at this period proscribed. Coffee-houses were then such institutions as clubs are now; and Dryden might be seen at "Wills," in Covent Garden, surrounded by the wits, seated in "his armed chair, which in the winter had a settled and prescriptive place by the fire." Some houses of a lower character are described as exchanges "where haberdashers of political small-wares meet, and mutually abuse each other and the public with bottomless stories." Conversation ranged over all kinds of topics—scandalous, literary, political, and ecclesiastical; and questions touching Papists and Nonconformists were earnestly discussed within those quaint old parlours, over cups of coffee and chocolate, sherbet, and tea. These discussions were reported to the men in power as being often of a treasonable nature, even as Nonconformist sermons—only with much less reason—were so represented. Consequently a proclamation appeared in the month of December, 1675, recalling licenses for the sale of coffee, and ordering all coffee-houses to be shut up; "because in such houses, and by the meeting of disaffected persons in them, divers false, malicious, and scandalous reports were devised and spread abroad, to the defamation of His Majesty's Government and the disturbance of the quiet and peace of the realm." But public opinion was stronger in reference to coffee-houses than it was in reference to Conventicles—and whilst the latter remained beneath a legal ban, the former were speedily re-opened, "under a severe admonition to the keepers, that they should stop the reading of all scandalous books and papers, and hinder every scandalous report against the Government."[627]

1668–1676.
SAMUEL PARKER.

Comprehension and toleration continued to be discussed from the press. We have noticed publications in the year 1667 bearing upon such subjects. Between that date and the period to which we are now brought, a controversy had been going on respecting the fundamental principles of religious liberty; notorious on the one side for the baseness of the attack, memorable on the other for the chivalry of the defence. Samuel Parker had been brought up amongst the Puritans, had distinguished himself at Oxford during the Commonwealth as one of the gruellers (an ascetic little company of students, whose refection, when they met together, was oatmeal and water), and was esteemed "one of the preciousest young men in the University."[628] This man proved recreant to his principles after Charles' return, and, swinging round with immense momentum, became as violent in his Episcopalian as he could ever have been in his Presbyterian zeal. Having come up to London, and made himself known as "a great droller on the Puritans," he, in the year 1667, obtained a chaplaincy at Lambeth, and thus found himself on the high road to preferment. In 1669 he published a book, the title of which—like so many in those days—fully describes its contents, and expresses its spirit. He calls it "A discourse of ecclesiastical polity, wherein the authority of the civil magistrate over the consciences of subjects in matters of external religion is asserted, the mischief and inconveniences of toleration are represented, and all pretences pleaded on behalf of liberty of conscience are fully answered." The spirit of this book may be seen from the preface, in which the author justifies the violence of his attacks upon Nonconformists. "Let any man that is acquainted with the wisdom and sobriety of true religion," he exclaims indignantly, "tell me how 'tis possible not to be provoked to scorn and indignation against such proud, ignorant, and supercilious hypocrites. To lash these morose and churlish zealots with smart and twinging satires is so far from being a criminal passion, that 'tis a seal of meekness and charity." Thus he strikes the key-note of what he continues from page to page, disgusting every sensible reader; yet it is curious to find him maintaining unequivocally that the affairs of religion, as they must be subject to the supreme civil power, so they ought to be to none other, and "that the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of princes [is] not derived from any grant of our Saviour, but from the natural and antecedent rights of all sovereign power." His principles are thoroughly Erastian, although the writer objects to Hobbes' philosophy; and whilst his positions are often monstrous, his reasonings are contemptible. Dr. Owen wrote in reply to this assault, his Truth and Innocence vindicated; in which, after repelling the accusations brought forward by Parker, he exposes and confutes that author's principles.[629] Parker, in his rejoinder, poured upon Owen the coarsest abuse, calling him "the great bellwether of disturbance and sedition, and the viper swelled with venom, which must spit or burst." He also cast upon his old associates more and more of bitter invective, calling them "the most villanous unsufferable sort of sanctified fools, knaves, and unquiet rebels, that ever were in the world;"[630] and having in his first book attacked Dissenters in general, in the second he assailed Independents in particular, quoting against Owen divers extracts taken from his sermons. That Divine made no reply; but another formidable combatant appeared on his side against the scurrilous accuser. As the High Church party could boast of Samuel Parker who knew how to lampoon the Puritans, so the Liberals of that day gloried in Andrew Marvell, who could quite as cleverly satirize High Churchmen. In his Rehearsal Transposed, he carried the day, and tormented beyond endurance the champions of despotism. Everybody who could read, from the King to the artizan, perused with glee the pages of the book, so that the discomfiture of the Archbishop's Chaplain excited derision through a much wider circle than was ever reached by his foolish writings. Parker, however, was not a man easily to be silenced, nor was the cause he undertook easily to be crushed; and therefore he and his friends returned to the onslaught, and soon the printers were busy with a number of pamphlets, presenting a catalogue of most ridiculous titles. Marvell rejoined; and it is confessed by Parker that, at the end of the literary encounter, the odds and victory were against him, and lay on Marvell's side: the style of warfare adopted by the latter can scarcely be approved, but it was in the fashion of the times, and had been provoked by an unprincipled assailant, who, it may be hoped—as it is intimated by one sometimes resembling Parker in virulence—was all the better for the castigation he received.[631]

1668–76.
BISHOP CROFT.

This remarkable controversy lasted from 1669 to 1673; and was in its first stage when the new Conventicle Act appeared; and reached its height whilst the debates on the Indulgence, the Relief Bill, and the Test Act agitated Parliament and the country. High Churchmen read with sympathy the pages of the assailant of Nonconformists, and they, on the other hand, suffering from local persecution, or rejoicing in Royal indulgence, pondered Owen's arguments, or laughed at Marvell's wit.

In the year 1675, Croft, Bishop of Hereford, despatched anonymously The Naked Truth, in which he maintained the sufficiency of the Apostles' Creed as a standard of faith, and protested against the refinements of Alexandrian and scholastic philosophy. At the same time he declined submission to the authority of the Fathers, or of Councils, although paying respect to them as teachers and guides; and deprecated the importance attached to ceremonies, pleading for such liberty as St. Paul, "that great grandfather of the Church, allowed his children." He would dispense with using the surplice, bowing to the altar, and kneeling at the Lord's Supper, and also with the cross in baptism, and the ring in marriage. He advocated a revision of the Prayer Book, contended that all ministers are of one order, and believed that confirmation might be administered by priests as well as by prelates. The tract concludes with a charitable admonition to all Nonconformists, in which the author, after pleading his own desire for certain changes, yet confessing he saw no hope of being successful, most inconsistently proceeds to exhort his Dissenting readers, on grounds of Christian humility, and the mischiefs of separation, immediately to submit to the authority of the Church.[632]

1668–76.
BISHOP CROFT.

It has often been the fate of moderate men to suffer from condemnation by zealots in their own Church. Even Popes of Rome, when taking the side of charity and candour, have been dishonoured by advocates of the Papacy; and Anastasius II., for his mild behaviour towards the Eastern Church, has been represented by Cardinal Baronius as the victim of a Divine judgment. Dante, too, has assigned him to one of the circles of the damned. In a similar spirit contemporaries assailed the author of Naked Truth. "Not only the Churches, but the coffee-houses rung against it; they itinerated, like excise spies, from one house to another, and some of the morning and evening chaplains burnt their lips with perpetual discoursing it out of reputation, and loading the author, whoever he were, with all contempt, malice, and obloquy. Nor could this suffice them, but a lasting pillar of infamy must be erected to eternize his crime and his punishment. There must be an answer to him in print, and that not according to the ordinary rules of civility, or in the sober way of arguing controversy, but with the utmost extremity of jeer, disdain, and indignation."[633] Gunning, Bishop of Ely, attacked it in a sermon which he preached before the King; and to him has been ascribed a pamphlet entitled The Author of Naked Truth Stript Naked. It also met with animadversions from Dr. Turner, Head of St. John's, Cambridge. Still there were those of another spirit who appreciated the calm reasoning and the amiable temper of the Bishop; and Pearse, who is described by Wood as "a certain lukewarm Conformist," because he could not join in reviling his Nonconformist brethren, spoke of the book at a later date, in his Third Plea for the Nonconformists, as a Divine manifestation of a primitive Christian spirit of love. And he proceeds, "certainly, as that pious endeavour hath increased his (the author's) comforts, so he hath not lost all his labour; for since that, we have had more overtures of peace than we heard of in many years before of discord and troubles, from the learned in the Church of England." Marvell, in his answer to the animadversions, styled the writer of Naked Truth "judicious, learned, conscientious, a sincere Protestant, and a true son, if not a father of the Church of England." Baxter also alludes to it as an excellent book, "written for the Nonconformists," in favour of "abatements, and forbearance, and concord."[634]