Whilst the Alderman was speaking, there arose, according to the reporter, much interruption. Citizens hissed, and cried, "No more, no more!" It was an hour after he rose to speak ere the uproar ceased. He was not to be put down, however, but patiently continued repeating the same sentence till people were quiet. At last the Court broke up, and every man departed—"so great a company going before and following after Alderman Garroway to his house, that the streets were as full as at my Lord Mayor's show." Some one recommended them to act with discretion. "Discretion!" exclaimed a butcher, "we shall be undone with it. Let us proceed as these people have taught. When we asked them what we should have in the place of bishops, they told us bishops were naught we all knew, and, when they were gone, we should think of somewhat that is better in their room. Let us now take away what we know is naught, and we shall do well enough after. I owe them a good turn for the honour they have done my trade."
Popular Preachers in London.
Whatever truth there might be in the charge that the sectaries were encouraged by Pennington and others, certainly Presbyterianism received the support of by far the majority of the London citizens. Two Presbyterian clergymen at this time enjoyed great popularity in the metropolis—Stephen Marshall and Edmund Calamy. Marshall held the lectureship of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster. His pulpit talents were of a superior order, and were employed in the exhibition of truths dear to Puritan affections; but, like others of his age and creed, he introduced into his sermons the absorbing questions of the day. Knowing that they filled the minds of his hearers, and deeming them of vital interest to his country and the Church, he judged that by such preaching he really walked in the footsteps of old Hebrew prophets. We find Calamy, the historian, admitting that Marshall encouraged the taking up arms for securing the Constitution, when it appeared, not only to him and his brethren, but to a number of as worthy gentlemen as ever sat in St. Stephen's chapel, to be in no small danger.[321] Men, in those troublous times, must not be judged by such standards of propriety as are upheld amidst the comfortable respectability of our own peaceful era; and the same allowance must be made for both sides. If we do not wonder at the stern animosity of the Royalist churchman, neither should we be surprised at the martial zeal of Parliamentary presbyters.
1643, January.
The lectureship at St. Margaret's brought Marshall into close connection with the Commons, which naturally, under the circumstances, imparted a political tinge to his oratory. But Calamy,[322] being perpetual curate of Aldermanbury, had to do with parishioners whose spiritual wants came immediately under his notice; and he delighted in that experimental strain of discourse which ever touches the hearts of men. What made him acceptable to the citizens in his own neighbourhood, made him acceptable to the citizens generally. No church was so thronged as his. Admired by the Puritan, he was lampooned by the Royalist. "Well, who's for Aldermanbury?" asked the latter, in one of the scurrilous party tracts, of which some are reprinted in well-known collections, and many more are preserved in the British Museum. "You would think a phœnix preached there. A foot-ball in cold weather is as much followed as Calamy by all his rampant dog-day zealots." Reporters, not for the press, but for private edification, waited on the divine, as we learn from the pamphleteer, who proceeds to exclaim, "Instead of a dumb shew, enter the sermon daubers. Oh! what a gracious sight is a silver ink-horn. How blessed a gift is it to write short-hand! What necessary implements for a saint are cotton wool and blotting-paper. These dabblers turn the Church into a scrivener's shop. A country fellow, last term, mistook it for the six clerks' office."[323] This vulgar ridicule at once testifies to the popularity of Calamy, illustrates the manners and customs of the time in places of worship, and shews that, whatever might be the religious extravagances of some Presbyterians, they were more than matched by the godless ridicule of people who claimed to be exceedingly zealous for Episcopacy.
Popular Preachers in London.
Coincident with the increasing popularity of these preachers, the actual outbreak of the Civil Wars, and the excitement in London respecting ecclesiastical affairs, were certain measures adopted by Parliament for abolishing Episcopacy. The Scotch did not fail to press this subject most earnestly upon their English brethren. They looked at it in the lurid light which their own annals had thrown on the institution, and in their view it had become identified with the arrogance and intolerance of Popery and Anglicanism. Unable to rest till England was saved from what they considered to be the secret of its weakness, and the precursor of its ruin, the General Assembly of Scotland sent a letter to Parliament, urging a thorough reformation, with a view to "one confession of faith, one directory of worship, one public catechism, and one form of Church government."[324]
The answer of the English Parliament was both cautious and promising. No assurance was returned that organic unity with the Scotch should be attempted, but a hope was expressed of more free communion in worship, of security against Papists and "other sectaries," and of the gathering together in England of an Assembly of learned Divines. The fate of prelacy, however, was sealed by the following important declaration, which was embodied in the answer:—
"That this Government by Archbishops, Bishops, their Chancellors and Commissaries, Deans and Chapters, Archdeacons, and other ecclesiastical officers depending upon the hierarchy, is evil, and justly offensive and burdensome to the kingdom, a great impediment to reformation and growth of religion, very prejudicial to the State and Government of this kingdom; and that we are resolved that the same shall be taken away."[325]
1643, January.