CHAPTER XXIII.
JOHN BURNYEAT.
A characteristic specimen of Quakers’ piety is furnished in the following narrative, extracted from a volume of their biographies:—
“John Burnyeat was born in the parish of Lows-water, in the county of Cumberland, about the year 1631. And when it pleased God to send His faithful servant George Fox, with other of the messengers of the Gospel of peace and salvation, to proclaim the day of the Lord in the county of Cumberland and north parts of England, this dear servant of Christ was one that received their testimony, which was in the year 1653, when he was about twenty-two years of age; and through his waiting in the light of Jesus Christ, unto which he was turned, he was brought into deep judgment and great tribulation of soul, such as he had not known in all his profession of religion, and by this light of Christ was manifested all the reproved things, and so he came to see the body of death and power of sin which had reigned in him, and felt the guilt thereof upon his conscience, so that he did possess the sins of his youth. ‘Then,’ said he, ‘I saw that I had need of a Saviour to save from sin, as well as the blood of a sacrificed Christ to blot out sin, and faith in His name for the remission of sins; and so being given up to bear the indignation of the Lord, because of sin, and wait till the indignation should be over, and the Lord in mercy would blot out the guilt that remained (which was the cause of wrath), and sprinkle my heart from an evil conscience, and wash our bodies with pure water, that we might draw near to Him with a true heart in the full assurance of faith, as the Christians of old did (Heb. x. 22).’ Thus did this servant of the Lord, with many more in the beginning, receive the truth (as more at large may be seen in the journal of his life) in much fear and trembling, meeting often together, and seeking the Lord night and day, until the promises of the Lord came to be fulfilled, spoken of by the prophet Isaiah, chap. xlii. 7, and xlix. 9, and lxi. 3; and some taste of the oil of joy came to be witnessed, and a heavenly gladness extended into the hearts of many, who in the joy of their souls broke forth in praises unto the Lord, so that the tongue of the dumb (which Christ, the healer of our infirmities, did unloose) began to speak and utter the wonderful things of God. And great was the dread and glory of that power, that one meeting after another was graciously and richly manifested amongst them, to the breaking and melting many hearts before the Lord. Thus being taught of the Lord, according to Isaiah liv. 13, John vi. 45, they became able ministers of the Gospel, and instructors of the ignorant in the way of truth, as this our friend was one, who after four years’ waiting, mostly in silence, before he did appear in a public testimony, which was in the year 1657, being at first concerned to go to divers public places of worship, reproving both priests and people for their deadness and formality of worship, for which he endured sore beating with their staves and Bibles, &c., and imprisonment also in Carlisle Gaol, where he suffer’d twenty-three weeks’ imprisonment for speaking to one priest Denton, at Briggham. After he was at liberty, he went into Scotland, in the year 1658, where he spent three months, travelling both north and west. His work was to call people to repentance from their lifeless hypocritical profession and dead formalities, and to turn to the true light of Jesus Christ in their hearts, that therein they might come to know the power of God, and the remission of sins, &c. And in the year 1659 he travelled to Ireland, and preached the truth and true faith of Jesus in many parts of that nation.”[601]
Of the piety of Puritan Nonconformists several examples have already appeared; but it is proper to add a few more.
JOSEPH ALLEINE.
Joseph Alleine was born in 1634. As a child, whilst living in Devizes, the sieges and battles of the Civil Wars made him familiar with the question then being fought out, both by the sword and the pen; and as he heard gun answering gun, and saw the flashes “through the chinks of his father’s barred and shuttered windows,” and as he read fly-leaves which were then distributed far and wide, ideas were entering his mind which shaped the Puritanism of his whole after-life. He went to Oxford when that University had fallen into the hands of the Army, and just before the time when Oliver Cromwell became Chancellor. There he distinguished himself by his diligence, often rising at four o’clock in the morning, and prolonging his studies beyond midnight; and he added to the exhaustion of toil, the mortification of fasting; for he often gave away his “commons” at least once a day. In the year 1655 he became minister at Taunton, as assistant to George Newton, the minister of St. Mary’s; and there he married: a long love-letter, which he wrote to the lady of his affections, still remains, as a specimen of the grave courtship of Puritan suitors. Having been ordained according to Presbyterian order, his activity as a pastor rivalled his assiduity as a student. What he did as a catechist long remained amongst the traditions of the town. “In this work, his course was to draw a catalogue of the names of the families in each street, and so to send a day or two before he intended to visit them. Those that sent slight excuses, or did obstinately refuse his message, he would speak some affectionate words to them, or, if he saw cause, denounce the threatenings of God against them that despise His ministers, and so departed; and after would send letters to them so full of love as did overcome their hearts, and they did many of them afterwards receive him into their houses. Herein was his compassion shown to all sorts, both poor and rich.” All this may be regarded as not only characteristic of Alleine, but of the class to which he belonged; for there was nothing about which the Presbyterians were more anxious than the culture of domestic religion. Alleine’s preaching also stood in high repute, the judgment in his discourses being likened to “a pot of manna,”—the fancy to “Aaron’s rod that budded,”—and the fervour to “a live coal from off the altar.” His public career of labour, usefulness, and honour, in the town of Taunton, reached its close at the general ejectment of 1662, to the common grief of himself and his parishioners. Alleine’s habits of indefatigable toil could not be repressed by the Act of Uniformity, and he still preached, ordinarily in some weeks six or seven times, in others ten or fourteen. Such a zealous evangelist could not escape the hand of the law; and in the year 1663 he was sent a prisoner to Ilchester Gaol. He remained in confinement a year all but three days. The vigilance of his gaoler could not have been strict, for he had “very great meetings, week-days and Sabbath-days, and many days of humiliation and thanksgiving. The Lord’s days many hundreds came.” Alleine held conferences, wrote to his old flock, taught children, circulated catechisms, and, during the chaplain’s illness, discharged his duties, exerting himself to such a degree that he would keep on his clothes all night, and allow himself to sleep only one or two hours. After his liberation, his indomitable perseverance in preaching, and in other religious efforts, brought him again into trouble: indeed, it is said, “he was far more earnest than before,” although that appears impossible. A second imprisonment followed in the year 1666. In the June of 1667, he was again liberated; but excessive labour, severe self-mortification, and the vexations and sorrows of imprisonment, had broken down his constitution. “It was impossible,” observed Dr. Annesley, “that anguish like his could continue long, and at last his sufferings for Christ hurried him to heaven in a fiery chariot.” When conveyed in a horse-litter to Bath—then called the “King’s Bathe,” a mere maze of five hundred houses—“the doctors were amazed to behold such a wasted object, professing they never saw the like, much wondering how he was come alive; and, on his appearance at the Bathe, some of the ladies were affrighted, as though death had come amongst them.” The Puritan was much grieved by “the oaths, drinking, and ungodly carriage of the persons of quality there;” and he failed not to reprove them for their misconduct. “His way was first to converse of things that might be taking with them; for, being furnished by his studies for any company, he did use his learning for such ends, and by such means hath caught many souls.” He caused himself to be carried in a chair to visit schools and almshouses; he persuaded teachers to adopt the Assembly’s Catechism as a class-book; and on a Sunday he gathered sixty or seventy children together at his lodgings, and he also paid daily visits to the poor.
The Puritan impress rests on all Alleine’s labours, on all his self-denial, on all his social intercourse, and on much of his suffering. The same may be said of his last moments. We are told that the night before he died, about nine o’clock, he brake out with an audible voice, speaking for sixteen hours together, and did cease but a little space now and then all the afternoon. About three o’clock in the afternoon he had some conflict with Satan, for he uttered these words:—“Away, thou foul fiend, thou enemy of all mankind, thou subtle sophister: art thou come now to molest me—now I am just going—now I am so weak, and death upon me? Trouble me not, for I am none of thine! I am the Lord’s; Christ is mine, and I am His; His by covenant. I have sworn myself to be the Lord’s, and His I will be. Therefore begone!” These last words he repeated often. Thus his covenanting with God was the method he used to expel the devil and all his temptations. In November, 1668, he died, and was buried in the chancel of St. Mary’s, Taunton, under a brass plate with this inscription: Hic jacet Dominus Josephus Alleine holocaustum Tauntonensis et Deo et vobis.[602]
THOMAS EWINS.
Thomas Ewins, a Baptist minister at Bristol, was mentioned in a former volume, as a man of great natural power: the character of his life also deserves commemoration. The records of the Broadmead Church, which have already supplied us with many illustrations, afford us touching memorials of this good man’s piety. When his flock were about to meet for prayer on his behalf, during his final illness, he addressed to them the following letter, which indicates at once the close and confidential religious relations in which he stood to them, and the deep spirituality of the pastor’s character:—“Dear brother,” he says, addressing one of the ruling elders, “understanding that some friends intend to become suitors at the throne of grace this day on my behalf, I think good to send these few lines for information, to acquaint you that being weak, I cannot conveniently be with you, but hope I shall meet you with some few sighs and groans to Him that heareth prayer; first, that the God of all grace and health will command health and cure to the soul and body, chiefly to that soul of all soul maladies, unbelief, and all the fruits thereof; and also to the body, for the cure of those maladies which unfit for work and service, especially melancholy, and the fruits thereof; and that God will, of His infinite riches of grace and mercy, bestow a double portion of His blessed Spirit both upon me and upon the whole congregation, and that we may obtain more of the blessed spirit of adoption, and all the fruits thereof. Amen. Which is all at present from your weak brother, Thomas Ewins. The Lord give you much of His presence, and grant that His ear may be open to your prayers.”
THOMAS EWINS.
He had been declining very fast, and had kept his chamber nearly five months when he sent this letter. The end was at hand; and his departure and character are thus recorded in these simple and beautiful annals:—
“Our pastor, brother Ewins, having lain a great while weak, he departed this life in the second month, 1670, having faithfully served his Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, near towards twenty years in this city, in the work of the ministry; preaching clearly the gospel of free grace, by faith in Jesus Christ, wherein he laboured abundantly, in the public (places), and in his particular charge—the congregation; and also would go and preach to the poor people in their almshouses at Michael’s Hill, and Lawford’s Gate almshouse, once a fortnight, in the morning; and in those times of liberty, would, for some convenient seasons, set up a lecture, and preach at Bedminster and other places. And at other times, during the winter long evenings, would keep an expository lecture or meeting at T’Ewins’ Church, and sometimes at Leonard’s Church, besides his constant public preaching, as he was one of the city lecturers, every third day, Tuesday, at Nicolas Church, and every fifth day (Thursday) at the Church meeting of Conference, and twice every Lord’s Day constantly; besides many times a word to the Church, after that those who were not members were departed, upon the Lord’s Day, in the evening, at the Church’s select meeting. Thus, as one unwearied to serve the Lord Jesus, he took all opportunities, doing good; insomuch that many ministers did admire him for his great, diligent labours, and that he had always variety of matter; which, though he had not the original tongues, yet God did endue him with great grace, and a quick understanding in the things of God, and (in) the Gospel of our Lord Jesus, to the winning and converting many souls to Christ, and building and binding up the broken-hearted. He was a man full of self-denial, and subduing his natural temper; so that he walked very lovely and holy in his conversation, showing patience where it required, and meekness toward all men; visiting all his members carefully, and searching into the state of their souls; and by some ministers that were his familiars (it was) observed and said, they never saw him over merry nor over sad, but given to prayer and almsdeeds. He was interred in James’s Yard, the 29th day of the second month, April, anno Domini, 1670, accompanied with many hundreds to the grave, the like funeral not seen long before in Bristol. He left so good a savour behind for faithfulness to God and humility towards man, that his very chief persecutor, Sir John Knight, said, He did believe he was gone to heaven.”[603]
OWEN STOCKTON.
Owen Stockton was born at Chichester in 1630, his father being a Prebendary of the Cathedral in that city. The father died when the son was only seven years old; the mother then removed to Ely, and, as the boy was looking into a copy of Foxe’s Acts and Monuments, chained to the wall of one of the parish churches, he was so affected by what he read, that he begged his friends to obtain at least a part of the work for his private use. Having secured his object, he spent the vacant hours which other children devoted to play, in eagerly perusing the martyrology; and he thus imbibed the strong Protestant and Puritan spirit, which influenced his whole after-life. On being sent to Cambridge he enjoyed the instruction of Dr. Henry More as his tutor, and being only sixteen years old, and of small stature, the tiny gownsman attracted general attention as he walked the streets. When he accompanied some of his fellow-students into the presence of Charles I., to express their loyalty, the King gave him a “gracious benediction,” saying, “Here is a little scholar indeed, God bless him.” Stockton devoted himself to study; and coming up to London for awhile, he attended the Gresham Lectures and the library of Sion College, and availed himself of the City bookstalls. After receiving his degree of Master of Arts, he “exercised his gifts” in villages around the University, and also became a catechist in his own college. His ordination to the full work of the University occurred in London in the year 1655; and on the Sunday following, he preached at the Charterhouse. “In the afternoon”—so runs the quaint memoir of this worthy—“one put up a bill to him, wherein the person that put it up acknowledged, that he had long lain under the guilt of a known sin, and was convinced of it by the morning sermon, and desired prayers to God for help against it.” Upon receiving an invitation to become the Town Lecturer at Colchester, Stockton accepted that office, adding to it the voluntary task of preaching every Sunday morning in St. James’ Church; and, until he was ejected in 1662, his labours were abundant, winning for him honourable renown amongst the Essex Puritans.
He removed to Chattisham in Suffolk, where he not only continued to preach privately, but in the absence of the Incumbent, once a fortnight, he had, in spite of his Nonconformity, freedom to occupy the pulpit of the parish church. He enjoyed a like privilege in neighbouring villages. His doing so being illegal, as soon as the vigilance of his enemies succeeded the connivance of his friends, Stockton felt himself exposed to peril. “It being a time of danger,” he wrote in his diary, April 16th, 1665,—“as to the keeping of my meeting-service, many soldiers being in the town, I being dubious whether I should admit the people to come or no,—when I considered that Christ took it as an act of love to feed His sheep—that he exposed Himself to death to save me, I being under a sense of the comfort that the Lord had given me in the morning,—in my meditation on 1 Timothy i. 15, I was willing to adventure myself upon the providence of God.” In this case, it would appear, that the alarm was unnecessary. It certainly proved so in another instance, and the incident may be mentioned, as illustrative of the double trials of the period,—the fightings without producing fears within:—“As I was exercising in my family, in the afternoon, several of my friends being with me, I had word sent me that Sir J(ohn) S(haw), the Recorder; the Mayor, Thomas Wade; and Justices, would come down to my house. Whereupon I, being near the end of my exercise, concluded with a short prayer. After I (had) done, and dismissed the people, one of the constables came to me and told me he was sent to dissolve my meeting, and had some kind of trembling upon him when he spoke to me, and said he blessed God that had given him an heart to come sometimes himself, and his wife, to my meetings, so that instead of doing me any hurt, he gave glory to God for giving him an heart to be present.”[604]
Stockton was reported at Lambeth in the year 1669, for holding a “conventicle in Colchester with George Done.” He also preached at Manningtree, Marks Tay, and Ipswich. In the year 1672, Stockton took out a license to be “a Presbyterian and Independent teacher in Grayfriars House, in St. Nicholas Parish,” in the county town of Suffolk. These were halcyon days for men like him: and again his ministry became his whole business. Besides conducting Sunday services, including two sermons, several expositions, and catechetical exercises, he “preached a lecture at Ipswich, on the week day, once a fortnight; and, scarce a week passed, but he preached at some other lecture, or funeral, besides keeping of private fasts, which he frequently practised both at home and abroad.”[605]
OWEN STOCKTON.
Not only Stockton’s ministerial work, but his spiritual life also, is fully described in his Diary. His conversion, which took place when he was young, he tells us was not preceded by any “notable workings of the spirit of bondage,” or followed “by those ravishing joys which some have felt.” He feared his humiliation was not deep enough; but he received full satisfaction from a passage in a sermon, which he heard preached by that worthy and excellent servant of Jesus Christ, Mr. Richard Vines, then Master of Pembroke Hall. Phraseology of this kind indicates the kind of theology and of spiritual life which gave a stamp to the character of Owen Stockton: and the whole of the Diary bears the same religious complexion. He entered into a solemn covenant with God, and he set down at large the evidences of his faith and of his pardon,—of his being one of God’s servants, and having an interest in Jesus Christ,—of the Divine love to his soul, and of his possession of eternal life. No Anglican or Latitudinarian could have dealt with questions of personal religion after the manner which Stockton adopted. His accounts of providences, and of dreams, are tinged with superstition. The analysis which he gives of his motives for doing certain things; and his statement of cases of casuistry—as for example, whether it was lawful to write a letter, even of spiritual advice, on the Lord’s Day, and his long list of reasons for and against courses of conduct which he specifies—indicate a morbid conscientiousness, and a habit of keen and irritating introspection far beyond that self-examination which the Scriptures recommend. Yet, accompanying these infirmities, there appear a strong conviction of the realities of the invisible world, a tenacious grasp of the doctrines of grace, and a deep tone of devotion, a thorough consecration to the service of God, and a burning zeal for the glory of Christ, and for the welfare of souls. The manner in which his death is described harmonizes with the rest of his biography, and accurately describes what he professed:—“Discharging his dying office by grave exhortations and encouragement to serious religion and suffering for it, which he especially applied to his only child; owning and professing his Nonconformity to the last, as judging himself obliged thereto in conscience towards God; blessing God for His invaluable gift of Jesus Christ to the children of men; blessing God, who had called him to the honourable employment of the ministry of the Gospel, and had enabled him to be faithful therein, and encouraged him with His presence and blessing under all the difficulties thereof; blessing God, who had lifted him up above the fear of death; rejoicing in the peace and testimony of a good conscience, and hope of the glory of God, after ten or eleven days’ conflict with his disease (which, after some hope of recovery, very suddenly and unexpectedly seized his head), he quietly slept in the Lord, September 10th, 1680, in the one and fiftieth year of his age.”[606]
DR. JACOMB.
Another of the ejected ministers—one who survived the two excellent persons just described, and who is much better known than either of them—ought to be noticed before concluding this selection from the roll of Puritan names. Dr. Thomas Jacomb has been mentioned already, as a man who took a prominent part in the ecclesiastical affairs of his age. His biographers speak of his zeal for the glory of his Master, of his love to the souls of men, and of his constancy and diligence in ministerial work. He suffered much from cancer in the mouth; but when pain became tolerable, preaching acted as an anodyne; and, at all times, reflection upon the Divine goodness afforded him relief. He manifested much compassion, charity, and beneficence, and was moderate in his Nonconformity—“rather desiring to have been comprehended in the National Church, than to have separated from it.” His last illness is described as very distressing, and he said to an intimate friend—“I am using the means, but I think my appointed time is come. If my life might be serviceable to convert or build up one soul I should be content to live; but if God hath no more work for me to do, here I am, let Him do with me as He pleaseth.” On another occasion, he observed: “It will not be long before we meet in Heaven, never to part more: and there we shall be perfectly happy; there neither your doubts and fears, nor my pains shall follow us; nor our sins, which is best of all.” He longed to be above, and said with some regret—“Death flies from me; I make no haste to my Father’s house.”[607] Dr. Jacomb expired under the roof of the Countess of Exeter, March 27, 1687.
Burnet affords a pleasant sketch of an eminent Puritan layman, Sir Harbottle Grimston, Speaker of the House of Commons in the Convention Parliament, and afterwards Master of the Rolls; and in connection with this sketch occurs an equally pleasant notice of his exemplary wife.
“He gave yearly great sums in charity, discharging many prisoners by paying their debts. He was a very pious and devout man, and spent every day at least an hour in the morning, and as much at night, in prayer and meditation. And even in winter, when he was obliged to be very early on the bench, he took care to rise so soon, that he had always the command of that time, which, he gave to those exercises. He was much sharpened against Popery; but had always a tenderness to the Dissenters, though he himself continued still in the communion of the Church. His second wife, whom I knew, was niece to the great Sir Francis Bacon: and was the last heir of that family. She had all the high notions for the Church and the Crown, in which she had been bred; but was the humblest, the devoutest, and best tempered person I ever knew of that sort. It was really a pleasure to hear her talk of religion; she did it with so much elevation and force. She was always very plain in her clothes; and went oft to jails, to consider the wants of the prisoners, and relieve, or discharge them; and by the meanness of her dress she passed but for a servant trusted with the charities of others. When she was travelling in the country, as she drew near a village, she often ordered her coach to stay behind till she had walked about it, giving orders for the instruction of the children, and leaving liberally for that end. With two such persons I spent several of my years very happily.”[608]
UNITY OF SPIRITUAL LIFE.
Without repeating what I have said in a former volume, respecting the varieties of spiritual life, I would observe, that it is of very great importance to distinguish between religion and theology: between spiritual life in man, and the philosophy of its causes, its nature, and its modes of operation. The philosophy of that life is of a far higher description than any other branch of science in relation to either material things or the human mind. Christian personal religion, when complete and satisfactory, must rest upon the study of Divine Revelation—this is the supreme authority for the religious beliefs of all to whom it comes—without which those beliefs are as the shifting sands and as the changeful clouds. It is of immense moment to search out the truth amidst various theories, and theological theories are to some minds an intellectual necessity, which it is idle to deny and foolish to ignore. Nor should the fact be overlooked that creeds—the creeds of the early Church—may serve as guards and preservers of the Church’s faith; as lines which have been drawn, after sounding the channels of Christian thought, to guard us against shoals towards which we are apt to be driven, as buoys which may help to preserve us from shipwreck, and as landmarks which may continue to secure for us the precious inheritance of truth bequeathed by Christ.[609] But at the same time these theories and these creeds should be distinguished from religion itself; and beyond all doubt, the religion of the soul, in a multitude of cases, is much less influenced by definite theological opinions on certain points than many persons are disposed to admit. Theology is oftener determined by religion, than religion is determined by theology. Hence the trite maxim that some men are better than their creeds and some are worse.
Christianity teaches, that faith in Christ is essential to religion in the case of all those to whom the Gospel comes, by which faith is meant trust in Him as the Divine Redeemer of souls. It further teaches that love to God is essential to religion, which love is to be expressed in worship and obedience. Finally, it teaches that morality is essential to religion, which morality includes all the pure, exalted, comprehensive, and noble virtues inculcated in the Scriptures. This threefold kind of religion may be found in cases where, what many may deem, erroneous views on various points are entertained; and it may be absent in cases where no such erroneous views exist. Religion does not centre in intellectual opinions, but in the affections of the heart, and the volitions of the will. Consequently, we have been able to trace, with more or less distinctness, the presence and power of real piety in all the great schools of theological thought, which have come under our review. We recognize amongst men of different creeds, of different forms of worship, of different ecclesiastical polities, members of the one Holy Catholic Church, because we discover in them that faith, devotion, and morality, which are the constituent elements of true religion. It is remarkable how, in these respects, Christians of various communions, such as I have attempted to portray, resemble each other. They have not been able to repeat the same theological confession: but under a sense of sin, in the great exigencies of their existence, in the hour of death, and looking forward to the day of judgment, they have rested upon the only Name given under heaven whereby we can be saved. They could not unite in the same symbolic rites, but there are hymns of praise and supplication in which they have all been enabled to express the devoutness of their spiritual life. They could not co-operate in ecclesiastical action, but each in his own sphere could and did engage in deeds of Christian justice, zeal, and charity.
I am not writing the history of any sect, but of Christ’s Church in England during the latter half of the seventeenth century, and therefore I have endeavoured to make these pages reflect, as far as possible, the many coloured types of moral and spiritual beauty, with which the Spirit of truth and love adorned and blessed our land at that eventful period.