CHAPTER XIII.
The most distinguished divines who sat upon the Episcopal Bench in the reign of William III., were more or less imbued with what were called Latitudinarian sentiments.
Tillotson and Tenison who did so much, especially the latter of them, by force of character, as well as prominence of position, towards keeping the Church in subordination to the State, have already occupied a considerable space in this History. Next to them, Burnet was most distinguished, and he also has received repeated notice as an ecclesiastical statesman; it should be added, that he was no less a diligent diocesan and a laborious divine. His treatise on Pastoral Care expresses the spiritual anxieties of a good minister of Jesus Christ: his Histories are pervaded by a spirit of Erastianism, as described by some; by a tone of liberality, as denoted by others; and his Exposition of the XXXIX Articles, in like manner, is both condemned as latitudinarian, and commended as comprehensive.
BISHOPS.
No work gives me so favourable an opinion of Burnet as his Four Discourses, delivered to the Clergy of the Diocese of Sarum.[366] For learning, earnestness, and ability, they deserve a higher place in theological literature than they have ever won. In them he exhibits the evidences of the Christian religion with considerable vigour of thought, and for the age in which he wrote, with much originality. His dissertation on the Divinity and death of Christ exhibit the orthodox Creed, as to the Godhead and Atonement of the Lord, together with a view of Justification by Faith, very similar to that inculcated in the writings of Bull. The authority of the Church he discusses as an enlightened Protestant, and demolishes the arguments of the Papists; giving, as he proceeds, some valuable hints on the history of religious opinions, and dealing with the dogma of infallibility in a way which is singularly curious, looked at in the light of the recent Ecumenical Council. The obligation to continue in the communion of the Church of England is exhibited, from his own point of view, in a temperate spirit.
1688–1702.
Stillingfleet accepted, in reward of his theological services, the See of Worcester in 1689. His reputation, connected with a friendly bearing towards Dissenters in the latter, as in the earlier period of his life, caused him to be engaged as referee in a doctrinal dispute, to be hereafter related; his polemical skill and unimpeachable orthodoxy were manifested afresh in his Vindication of the Trinity; he also entered into a metaphysical controversy with Locke, but to diocesan duties Stillingfleet devoted the remainder of his life. In his younger days he had been an eloquent preacher, generally dwelling upon the ethical more than the doctrinal side of religion; he nevertheless insisted upon theological points, following, in his views of salvation, Bull’s line of thought, as did Burnet, and others of the same school. There is an hortatory tone in his sermons, approaching in fervour to that of the Puritans, which, if not in harmony with the taste of the upper classes in the palmy days of Tillotson’s popularity, must have commended Stillingfleet’s ministry to the hearts of common people. In his first Visitation Charge, in 1690, he says there is “an affected fineness of expression which by no means becomes the pulpit, but seems to be like stroking the consciences of people by feathers dipped in oil;” then, after speedily dismissing the subject of preaching, and condemning extempore sermons, he proceeds, at great length, to vindicate episcopal order, and to enforce the discharge of pastoral duties. These topics, with discussions relative to Ecclesiastical Courts, appear prominently in his episcopal charges. And his attempts to enforce discipline, his zeal for the Reformation and authority of Church tribunals, his enforcement of residence on the Canons of his Cathedral, his protection of the poor, and his care about the application of charitable funds, are the chief grounds on which Stillingfleet’s episcopal career is eulogized by his admiring biographer. It strikes me as unsafe to judge of him simply by what that writer has advanced. Another and more spiritual aspect of his character, suggested by his sermons and other productions, is left untouched in those unsatisfactory memoirs.[367]
BISHOPS.
Patrick, made Bishop of Chichester in 1689, and of Ely in 1691, was a man of inferior ability to Stillingfleet, but of greater learning, perhaps of higher spiritual mark. Ranked amongst Latitudinarians through his early connection with John Smith and Henry More, he caught and infused into some of his writings a Platonic tincture; but as to the philosophical spirit of inquiry, cultivated in the Cambridge school, he was a perfect alien. He agreed, with the least moderate of the class, in a dislike to Puritanism, and went beyond them all in dogmatic emphasis and Anglican leanings. He distinguished between traditions to be rejected and traditions to be received—including amongst the latter, not only primitive testimony as to the transmission of Scripture, and the settlement of the Canon, but as to the doctrines of the Faith, and the polity of the Church. He insisted upon the efficacy of baptism as producing regeneration, and held that ordinance to be necessary for the salvation of infants.[368] As to the Lord’s Supper, he dwelt little upon its nature, but much upon its benefits, and the duty of frequent communion. His published sermons are not specimens of his general preaching, for they were mostly delivered on political and other public occasions. Some posthumous discourses on contentment, and resignation to the will of God, have been preserved, through accidental circumstances, not on account of any superior excellence.[369]
1688–1702.
He wrote, besides his Paraphrases and works against Popery, a number of practical and devout books; amongst them the Parable of the Pilgrim, which might be read with more satisfaction, did it not provoke humiliating comparisons with Bunyan’s Allegory. The reputation Patrick enjoyed in his own day for devout composition, suffers greatly when, in the light of modern taste and criticism, we examine the forms which he prepared for the revised Prayer Book, contemplated in 1680; but I know of nothing to invalidate the manner in which his conduct as a Bishop is eulogized. He early appeared as a champion of the Church of England against Dissent, by publishing what he called a Friendly Debate,—in point of fact, a most unfriendly production, full of virulent attacks upon those who separated from the established communion, and even advocating coercion in the service of Uniformity.[370] The book appeared anonymously in 1668; fifteen years afterwards, notwithstanding the damaging circumstance that it had been condemned by Matthew Hale, and praised by Gilbert Sheldon and Samuel Parker, the author stated his continued opinion that the discourse was “useful and reasonable.”[371] It may be hoped Patrick repented of what he had done, for he expressed in the House of Lords “regret for the warmth with which he had written against the Dissenters in his younger years;” and Wharton said of him, “After he was made a Bishop, he lost his reputation through imprudent management, openly favouring the Dissenters, and employing none but such, whereupon he lost the love of the gentry.”[372] However, there is evidence, that towards the Baptist denomination, at least, he continued to manifest a most unfriendly spirit.
After the Revolution, he expressed concern at finding so little of unity and concord, when it was natural to expect they would have been the result of that deliverance. He seems to have become weary of the world before he left it, and cried out with the Psalmist, “O that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest.” Stillingfleet wrote his Irenicum in 1660, and twenty years after the Mischief of Separation. Patrick advocated intolerance in 1683; and twenty years afterwards, though still retaining some of the old leaven, uttered words of charity and healing.
BISHOPS.
To the class of Cambridge theologians probably belongs John Moore, consecrated Bishop of Norwich in 1691, who is described as enjoying Burnet’s confidence, and as being consulted by him in the composition of his works. But Moore was one of a considerable number who gain a reputation among friends for ability to do what they never accomplish; since, according to one of his eulogists, “the world had reason to expect from him many excellent and useful works,” had not episcopal duties prevented their being composed. He was also one of a still greater number in whom the love of books weakens regard for the rights of property; for according to a critic less friendly to his reputation, Moore indulged an “avarice in that respect,” which “carried him a step beyond the sin of coveting.” His library numbered 30,000 volumes, and was bought, after his death, by George I., as a present to the University of Cambridge.[373]
Cumberland, made Bishop of Peterborough in 1691, wrote in reply to Hobbes, a Latin treatise, On the Laws of Nature, mentioned in a former volume, and of him his great grandson Richard says, “He had no pretension to quick and brilliant talents; but his mind was fitted for elaborate and profound researches, as his works more fully testify.”[374] He is known to posterity, and that with faded light, simply as a philosopher of the Cambridge stamp, and has left no proofs of pre-eminence in episcopal efficiency; but we may conclude that he was devoted to his office from the anecdote, that, when in his old age his friends recommended retirement and rest, he said, “I will do my duty as long as I can; I had better wear out than rust out.”[375]
1688–1702.
Something similar may be said of Fowler, an active opponent of James’ Declaration, promoted to the See of Gloucester in 1690, whose exposition of Latitudinarian theology has been described in the Church of the Restoration. His broad views of Christianity, and his opposition to Popery, recommended him to a Bishopric. He is spoken of as a very respectable, but not very eminent, Prelate; and what is curious in connection with his rationalism, he was credited with a faith in the existence of witches and fairies, “whom he dreaded as much as the lady upon the seven hills, and all the scarlet train.”[376]
Kidder, Bishop of Bath and Wells, had, before he wore a mitre, passed through circumstances which must have left a deep impress upon his character, and were calculated to impart moderation to his episcopal proceedings. He, in 1662, was deprived of his living for not subscribing to the Prayer-Book, before he could examine it. Approving of it after examination, he pursued a chequered career, struggling with poverty, but exhibiting generous dispositions; suffering during the plague year, but persevering in his spiritual duties; vexed by Nonconformists in his parish, yet administering the Lord’s Supper to those who refused to kneel. His autobiography, besides sketching these circumstances, relates what he did in the way of Visitations, Confirmations, and Ordinations, and how he was troubled by the conduct of some of his Clergy, by the behaviour of a physician who courted his daughter, and by a faction in his diocese who opposed his ordination of one who had been a Nonconformist.
BISHOPS.
Kidder paid half his income from the See of Bath and Wells into the hands of ex-Bishop Ken; and another circumstance is related respecting him, which places his integrity in a conspicuous light. A message was sent him by a minister of King William, telling him he MUST give his vote in Parliament in a certain way. “Must vote!” “Yes, must vote: consider whose bread you eat.” “I eat no man’s bread but poor Dr. Ken’s; and if he will take the oaths, he shall have it again. I did not think of going to the Parliament, but now I shall undoubtedly go, and vote contrary to your commands.”[377] The autobiography suggests the idea that Kidder was a well-meaning man, sometimes wanting in firmness and wisdom. His publications, which are numerous, include—besides his Boyle Lecture—Tracts against Popery, and Plain Treatises enforcing the practice of a religious life. The only sermon of his which I have read, one preached at Court on the duty of fasting, suggests no high opinion of his pulpit power.
1688–1702.
Amongst the Episcopal Divines of William’s reign, only one can be considered as a decided Puritan. This was John Hall, Master of Pembroke, Oxford, who retained that position after he became Bishop of Bristol in 1691,—a poor piece of preferment. He is far less noticeable as a Bishop than as a Theological Professor, in which capacity, however, he earned no enviable fame, even in the estimation of those who sympathized with him in his theological opinions; for Calamy says, that he brought all the theology of the Westminster Assembly out of the Church Catechism. He was a good man, laughed at by the wits, but esteemed for his godliness by pious people.
Nicholas Stratford—possessed of learning, a firm supporter of the Church of England, and, judging of him by his primary visitation charge, an earnest preacher and a faithful pastor, bent on the salvation of souls—succeeded Cartwright in the Bishopric of Chester, in 1689; and in the same year, John Hough, the Champion of Magdalen, rose to the episcopal chair of Oxford.[378]
An Archiepiscopal mitre rewarded, at the suggestion of Tillotson in 1691, the staunch Protestantism of Dr. Sharpe, the Dean of Norwich; and, if we are to believe all the encomiums on his virtues, inscribed upon his monument in York Cathedral, scarcely ever before did such a paragon of excellence exist.[379] Notices of him by Thoresby—to whose conversion from Dissent to Episcopacy, Sharpe had largely contributed—so far confirm the praise in his epitaph, as to show that he was diligent, courteous, devout, and kind, and most zealous in endeavouring to win Nonconformists over to the Church. He is described as the best of the Bishops who had honoured Leeds with their presence, “a most excellent preacher, universally beloved.”[380] Samuel Wesley, who was under great obligations to him, ranked him as a preacher above Stillingfleet, and even above Tillotson, calling him “a more popular pulpit orator than either;”[381] but a set-off against these partial commendations will appear, when we reach the history of Religious Societies and of Dissenting Academies, and observe the course which his Grace pursued in relation to them.
BISHOPS.
Lloyd, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry until 1699, when, on the death of Stillingfleet, the King translated him to Worcester, is described by Whiston, who received ordination at his hands, as engaging in “a most uncommon, but vastly improving examination and instruction, in the Cathedral, beforehand.”[382] Lloyd’s prophetical studies, vindicated by Whiston, exposed him to a good deal of raillery and satire; Shippen, in his Faction Displayed, saying of him—
“Then old Mysterio shook his silver hairs,
Loaded with learning, prophecy, and years.”
As with other students in the same school, his studies proved labour lost, for Dr. Johnson relates, that “his writings supplied the kitchen of his successor with fuel for many years;” but his character defied detraction, and whilst revered for his virtues, that reverence was increased by his “learning and longevity.”[383]
1688–1702.
Politics, rather than Divinity, recommended men as Bishops under William III. They were constitutional Whigs sympathizing in the objects and promoting the interests of the Revolution. The anti-Papal zeal, and the readiness of most of them to conciliate Nonconformists, gave them favour in the eyes of both King and Queen; nor should we overlook the influence of Tillotson and Burnet, the great ecclesiastical apostles of the period, in the advancement of these brethren. Sharpe’s promotion was owing to the former, probably Moore’s was owing to the latter.
In point of personal character the new Prelates will bear comparison with their predecessors. Kidder indeed never enjoyed the reputation for sanctity possessed by Ken. Tillotson, Tenison, Burnet, Stillingfleet, Patrick, Cumberland, and Fowler, were in mental power superior to Sancroft, Thomas, Lake, White, and Frampton; and as to personal religion, which admits not of precise judgment, there is no evidence that they were inferior. Stratford might easily surpass the disreputable Cartwright; the name of Hough is as illustrious as the name of Samuel Parker is disgraceful, and the name of Timothy Hall obscure. In political bias, ecclesiastical feeling, and theological opinion, the new Prelates differed from their predecessors, and must therefore have imported into their dioceses some new methods of procedure.[384]
BISHOPS.
Another class of Bishops consisted of men who appear in history as political celebrities.
Compton, Bishop of London, is familiar to the reader as an active revolutionist, a man of disappointed ambition, and a friend to the High Church party in Convocation. Having nothing to do with the Court after Queen Mary’s death, he steps out of historical notice for a while, spending his time in the quiet discharge of episcopal functions, and relieving himself in hours of leisure, amidst the flowers and shrubs of his beautiful garden at Fulham, with botanical studies, which brought him into scientific correspondence with Ray, Petiver, and Plunkenet. Other letters of his indicate the active and zealous part he took in electioneering affairs, seeking to promote the return of Church candidates;[385] and a charge he delivered soon after the Revolution, deals largely in warnings against heresy and schism, Popery and Dissent—with a few milder words at the end relative to a kind treatment of loving brethren, if “found humble and of a quiet spirit.”[386] Burnet speaks of Compton as “a generous and good-natured man, but easy and weak, and much in the power of others,”[387]—an estimate of his character, copied by Birch and repeated since; but as to Compton’s imputed weakness, it is right to remember that Burnet, after his right reverend brother’s alliance with the High Church party, cannot be regarded as an impartial witness. The fragment of a Greek inscription upon Compton’s tombstone at Fulham, if placed there by his request, would indicate a devout appreciation of the redemptive nature of the Gospel, for the letters which remain are part of the Apostle’s memorable words, “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
1688–1702.
The tergiversations of Trelawny, successively Bishop of Bristol and Exeter, modify the traditionary laudation of his courage and alacrity, magnanimity and address, in defence of the just rights and privileges of the Church; yet I am not aware of anything which contradicts the statement, that “he was friendly and open, generous and charitable, a good companion, and a good man.”[388] Atterbury seems to have greatly admired him, and in the dedication of his own sermons to the Prelate, he delicately praises him for manifold virtues. The virtue of loyalty to the existing Government he certainly did not possess.[389]
Of the politics of Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, I have spoken before. It will suffice to notice him now as a preacher. His style of composition secured the applause of contemporaries, and Dunton, in one of his extravagant flights, eulogized the Bishop by saying—
“Nature rejoic’d beneath his charming power,
His lucky hand makes everything a flower,”
“On earth the King of wits (they are but few)
And, though a Bishop, he’s a preacher too.”[390]
BISHOPS.
Respecting his oratory, an amusing anecdote is related by Dr. Johnson. Burnet and Sprat were rivals. “On some public occasion they both preached before the House of Commons. There prevailed in those days an indecent custom; when the preacher touched any favourite topic in a manner that delighted his audience, their approbation was expressed by a loud hum, continued in proportion to their zeal or pleasure. When Burnet preached, part of his congregation hummed so loudly and so long, that he sat down to enjoy it, and rubbed his face with his handkerchief. When Sprat preached, he likewise was honoured with the like animating hum; but he stretched out his hand to the congregation and cried, ‘Peace, peace, I pray you peace.’”[391]
Let the story pass for what it is worth. Both Burnet and Sprat were men of power; both had at command a flowing and, when they pleased, a rhetorical style; and both delivered sermons marked by superior instruction and fervent appeal. Each attended to the method of delivery, as well as to the substance of thought, a matter to which Sprat devotes considerable space in an episcopal charge. After urging the Clergy to set forth the public prayers to “due advantage, by pronouncing them leisurely, fitly, warmly, decently,” he tells them to utter their discourses “in a natural, comely, modest, yet undaunted force of pronunciation;” but he reprobates extempore preaching, no less than extempore prayer.[392]
1688–1702.
Nathaniel Crew, Bishop of Durham, fifth son of the first Lord who bore that name, succeeded upon the death of his last surviving brother to the family estate and the title, and therefore was entitled to a seat in Parliament both as Prelate and Baron. Committed to the worst policy of James, and for a time excepted from pardon by William, he narrowly secured his See by taking the oath of allegiance at the last moment, and was scarcely admitted to Court during the reign of the last-named Monarch. Handsome features, imposing presence, winning manners, and princely munificence—although commending him to the affection of friends and the gratitude of dependants—could not redeem his character from the consequences incurred by his political conduct, or render him either a strong or an ornamental pillar of the English Church.
BISHOPS.
I pass over Bishops altogether obscure,[393] to notice one who attained an unenviable notoriety. This was Thomas Watson, Bishop of St. David’s, who experienced the singular fate of being proceeded against in the Court of Arches, when he received a sentence of deprivation. He was convicted of applying to his own use offerings given at ordinations; receiving what had been bestowed on servants as gratuities; not administering oaths required by law; ordaining at other times than the Sundays next Ember weeks; conferring orders on a candidate below the canonical age; exacting illegal fees; and demanding excessive procurations. There must have been at the bottom of these proceedings much more than appears on the surface. He is reported to have been coarse and violent in his language and conduct, and to have thereby exposed himself to popular odium; but these were not the things for which he was tried, nor was he formally accused of Popish opinions, though, in public estimation, he stood suspected of Romanist sympathies. He had been made a Bishop by James II., whose policy he approved, and this circumstance seems to have had much to do with the issue of his trial. He appealed to the House of Lords against the sentence of the spiritual court, but the sentence was confirmed. The case made much noise at the time, and excited a good deal of controversy. In a Review[394] of it published by a friendly hand, the charges brought against him are pronounced to be false, the veracity of the witnesses is impugned, and the whole process is described as a conspiracy carried on by “subordination,” and inspired by “political motives and inducements of pique and revenge.” The writer intends to suggest the animus of Watson’s prosecutors, by stating that he was asked what Papists and Nonjurors came to his house, and whether he had not drunk the health of King James; and I also find one deponent declaring that, in the oath of allegiance administered by the Bishop at an ordination, neither William nor Mary were mentioned by name. I cannot but think that political feeling prompted the prosecution; yet, if we look at the characters of such men as Tenison, Patrick, and others, who united in his condemnation, we must suppose that he had been guilty of great irregularities in his episcopal office.[395]
1688–1702.
There were to be found distinguished clergymen occupying parochial cures—clergymen eminent for learning, godliness, and zeal, amidst the bustle of a London life. Some were Anglican. William Beveridge, Rector of St. Peter’s, Cornhill, united with a profound reverence for antiquity, an attachment to doctrinal truths dear to Puritans. He insisted upon Episcopacy, Sacraments, the observance of Lent, and fellowship with the Church of England, and he did this often in a narrow, hard, exclusive spirit; yet he sometimes preached sermons such as would be admired by modern Evangelicals.[396] Those published in six octavo volumes, were regarded at the time as forming a valuable theological library. They exhibit no closeness of reasoning or sagacity of remark, no command of illustration, or felicity of style, yet they are sensible, unaffected, and somewhat forcible, from the manifest sincerity and earnestness of the author. Beveridge’s Thoughts on Religion are perhaps the most edifying, certainly the best known of his works, though they were written when he was a young man; but as to terseness of expression—not as to breadth of thought—he appears, in my judgment, to more advantage in his Ecclesia Anglicana, Ecclesia Catholica, a posthumous work on the Articles. In the exposition of the XI. Article, on Justification, he decidedly follows the Puritan lead, saying, “It is not by the inhesion of grace in us, but by the imputation of righteousness to us, that we are justified; as it is not by the imputation of righteousness to us, but by the inhesion of grace in us, that we are sanctified.” As to the XVII. Article, on Predestination, he is cautious, and his quotations would not satisfy, but they do not condemn, Calvinistic Divines.
DISTINGUISHED CLERGYMEN.
Down in the pleasant county of Gloucester, at the Rectory of Avening, George Bull—besides his literary labours, which before the end of the century won for him such high renown, that he was complimented by Bossuet—showed himself to be indefatigable in discharging pastoral duties, putting down country revels, and otherwise aiming at the improvement of his parishioners.
In Wiltshire, John Norris, an English disciple of Malbranche, held the living of Bemerton; and, while he practised the quiet virtues of the parish priest, he selected for the pulpit, subjects of a moral and spiritual nature, rather than the more distinctive truths connected with our redemption by Christ; not but that there is a tone in Norris’s teaching in unison with habits of thought cultivated by modern Evangelicals.[397] His published discourses, for the most part, are plain and practical; yet sometimes his handling of topics is such as to make his readers think that he shot over the heads of the Wiltshire farmers and peasantry. In Suffolk, William Burkett, Rector of Milden, added to his ministerial excellence, large-hearted efforts for the French refugees, and for preaching the Gospel in America. He secured a long reputation by his Expository Notes on the New Testament, which strongly reflect the opinions of others, and whilst decidedly Arminian, are more practical than critical. Of a well-known Kentish clergyman, Stanhope, Vicar of Lewisham, in no sense a party man, Evelyn remarks: “He is one of the most accomplished preachers I ever heard, for matter, eloquence, action, and voice.”[398]
1688–1702.
In closing this list of distinguished clergymen, I would refer to two men known as ecclesiastical archæologists, rather than as preachers and pastors. John Strype, Incumbent of Low Leyton, in Essex, then between fifty and sixty years of age, was just beginning that career as a biographer and historian, which he prolonged for so many years afterwards, and for which he had so laboriously amassed materials during the previous portion of his life. His memoirs of Cranmer, Smith, and Aylmer, which issued from the press under William III., and the large correspondence of the author at the time, preserved in the University Library at Cambridge, indicate, in connection with his diligence of research, his busy care respecting ecclesiastical affairs. Working hard upon black-letter books and hardly decipherable MSS., he was ready as a rural Dean, at the call of his Diocesan, to arrange for clerical meetings, or to preach visitation sermons.[399] Henry Wharton at the same time, though a young man, was closing his course as a laborious editor and critic, in fact, a martyr to excessive study; and, in turning over the Strype Correspondence, I was much touched by the following passage, in a letter written to Strype by one of Wharton’s friends, in reference to a visit paid him at Canterbury:—“One day he opened his trunk and drawers, and showed me his great collections concerning the state of our Church, and with a deep sigh told me that all his labours were at an end, and that his strength would not permit him to finish any more of the subject.”[400]
DISTINGUISHED CLERGYMEN.
One clergyman claims separate notice as a foreigner, a poor pluralist, and an exceedingly popular preacher. Dr. Horneck, a native of Bacharach—so familiar to all Rhine tourists—held, in conjunction with a stall at Exeter worth only twenty pounds a year, the preachership of the Savoy, which afforded but a miserable income. His poverty ended three years before his death, when, through the united kindness of Queen Mary and Archbishop Tillotson, he was made Prebendary of Westminster. But from first to last his ministry was exceedingly popular; it was no easy matter for him to get through the crowd to his pulpit. So great was the number of communicants at his church, that he had to seek the help of clergymen in the delivery of the bread and wine, “and with such assistance it was very late before the congregation could be dismissed.”[401] His virtues are extolled in the epitaph inscribed on his monument in the Abbey.
1688–1702.
Leaving men of honourable renown, in order to throw in truthful shadows amidst grateful lights, I will mention a case of their fanaticism. It appears in the life of John Mason, Rector of Walter Stratford, in Buckinghamshire.[402] Holding Predestinarian opinions to such an extent as to acknowledge no other difference between Judas and St. Peter than what proceeded from absolute decrees and irresistible grace; and further believing that it was all one whether a man kept the commandments or broke them, inasmuch as Christ observed the whole law on behalf of His people; this strange mortal, who had drunk the dregs of Antinomianism, added to his absurd caricatures of Calvinism, other ideas equally extravagant respecting the personal reign of Christ—a reign which he expected would instantly be set up. So far as extreme Predestinarianism and Millenarianism are concerned, he may be taken as typical of a small section of religious teachers living then, not entirely extinct even now; but he proceeded to the excess of regarding himself as a favoured recipient of celestial visions. Not long before his death, he fancied he saw Christ clothed in a crimson garment, His countenance exceedingly beautiful, with an abundance of sweetness and great majesty. Relatives indignantly denied a charitable report that he was mad, and did not doubt he would prove the prophet of the age—a Noah to warn the world, a John the Baptist to herald in the Messiah, an Elijah sent before the just and terrible day. Beyond his own circle, belief in his predictions spread, until nigh a hundred followers from the country ten miles round came to the rectory, and took up their abode within and around it, waiting for a revelation, which it was said came on the 16th of April, 1694, in the manner described. “When I entered the house,” relates one who wrote an account of his visit, “a more melancholy scene of a spiritual Bedlam presented itself. Men, women, and children running up and down, onewhile stretching their arms upwards to catch their Saviour coming down, others extending them forward to meet His embraces; a third, with a sudden turn, pretends to grasp Him; and a fourth clapping their hands for joy they had Him; with several other antic postures, which made me think that Bedlam itself was but a faint image of their spiritual frenzies. All this while they were singing as loud as their throats would give them leave, till they were quite spent and looked black in the face.”[403] Fanaticism, more insane than ever possessed any of the Roundhead preachers in Oliver Cromwell’s camp, thus raged in the person of an episcopal clergyman under William III. Country folks crowded about his house, his barn, and his garden; hundreds more are said to have venerated his character and believed in his prophecies. The story affords an instance of the wild enthusiasm which it is in the power of extravagant visionaries to excite, even in an age commonly considered as rationalistic and cold.[404]
DISTINGUISHED CLERGYMEN.
It is very remarkable, in casting one’s eye over these sketches, to notice the absence of the old Puritan party. Hall, of Oxford, as already noticed, was the only Divine of that class on the Bishops’ Bench; and amongst names of repute belonging to the rest of the Clergy, not one of the same kind can be produced. I do not deny that there may be clerical publications of the period marked by Puritan divinity; I only say that the celebrated authors were of another description.
1688–1702.
Vigorous and commanding Puritanic thought, such as moved the religious intellect of England a generation or two earlier, for a time quite died out in the Establishment. Low Churchmanship had been of the Puritan type. Montague, Laud, and the like, found their opponents in Calvinistic clergymen. Now Low Churchmanship took what some would call a rationalistic form; at any rate its advocates were inspired by a philosophical theology, rather than by the institutes of Calvin, or the genius of Geneva. Sancroft and Hicks found their opposites in Tillotson and Burnet. The Act of Uniformity had clearly done its work, and shut or kept out teachers akin to Calamy and Marshall. Their theological spirit, their distinctive evangelical teaching, disappears, so far as the Established Church is concerned, like the stream of Arethusa, and flows underground for a considerable space, to burst out once more in a strong current, a century afterwards.