Ecclesiastical History of England, Volume 2—The Church of the Commonwealth

by John Stoughton

Presbyterian System.

Next to this congregational or parish Presbytery, and superior to it, was the Classical Assembly, composed of delegates from parish congregations—the number sent by each not being more than four, or less than two. Their business was to take cognizance of the conduct of Ministers and Elders; to admit candidates to office; to enquire into the state of congregations; to decide cases too difficult for settlement by Parochial Elders; and to discharge such legislative functions as did not usurp the authority of the higher courts. Disputes between Ministers and Elders were determined before this classical tribunal. The Provincial Synod formed the next superior court, to which delegates went from the classical Presbyteries; meetings for the Province of Lancaster being held in the church at Preston. Thither appeals were carried, and there judgments were enforced; and there also candidates for the ministry passed through a theological examination. The preliminary trials having reached a satisfactory conclusion, notice was posted on the church door, that the persons approved would be ordained at the end of a month, if no objection were offered. That solemn service included the offering of prayers, the preaching of a sermon, the asking of the Pastor Elect certain questions, and the imposition of hands, with the delivery of a pastoral charge. He afterwards received a certificate of ordination.

To crown the series of church courts, a General Assembly was requisite; but to this point of perfection Presbyterianism in England never attained. Even in Lancashire, where the system appeared in its greatest vigour, its movements were greatly crippled. Episcopalians resisted it; avowing their love for Bishops, continuing to use the surplice and the liturgy, and condemning Presbyterian marriages and sacraments. The want of State authority for the enforcement of a complete scheme of discipline was a great vexation to its advocates; and when the Covenant could no longer be pressed, and the law against the Prayer Book proved a dead letter, the predominant religionists found it difficult to contend against the lingering popularity of ancient forms, and sometimes strove in vain to resist the efforts which were made to introduce ejected Episcopalians into vacant pulpits. They at length discovered it was to their own interest to draw towards their Episcopalian brethren; and before the Commonwealth expired, attempts were made to establish a moderate form of diocesan rule, somewhat after the model ascribed to Archbishop Ussher. The two parties searched for points of ecclesiastical agreement, and went so far as to preach in each other's places of worship. In some cases political sympathies formed a still deeper basis of union. Disliking the Protectorate, and longing for the restoration of royalty, both parties joined in the famous insurrection under Sir George Booth in 1659. And a further bond arose in a common antipathy to the sects and to all unordained ministers.

Herrick at Manchester.

Among the Lancashire Presbyterians were some very remarkable men. Richard Herrick, Warden of the Collegiate church of Manchester, was learned, munificent, disinterested, and conscientious; but he was one of the most passionate of partizans, at a time when partizanship was pre-eminently rife. He had little or no enmity to Episcopacy in the abstract,[167] but only disliked certain individual bishops, whom he considered to have been indifferent to the advances of Popery. The mild Juxon incurred his rebuke, because, as Herrick said, he preferred his hounds and his falcons to the defence of Protestantism. It was mainly through the exertions of the Manchester Warden, that Presbyterianism acquired ascendancy in Lancashire; he having promoted a petition to Parliament for that end, signed by many thousand persons. Resolutely did he resist the sequestration of church lands; doggedly did he refuse to give up the charter chest, even when soldiers came to burst open the door. His sympathy with Love caused him at one time to be placed under arrest; and nothing could induce him to leave Manchester, where he believed Providence had stationed him in troublous times, that he might defend the faith which was beleaguered by so many and such various foes. There in the Collegiate Church—now transformed into a Cathedral—he thundered out his anathemas against Rome, and fearlessly arraigned the proceedings of men in power. John Knox, before the Lords of the Council, and Hugh Latimer, in St. Paul's Churchyard, never launched more fiery bolts against the Mother of Harlots.

Herrick once addressed his audience in the following words—and we give them as a specimen of the kind of oratory then popular, and as a picture, though a very exaggerated one, of the state of things in some parts of England.

"Be pleased to conceive a Parliament at this time convened in Heaven, and God on His throne asking this question: 'Shall I destroy England?' And so some answer after this manner, and some after that: 'Great cry of injustice, of oppression, of wrong, of injury!" 'Blood toucheth blood; courts of justice and committees are courts of robbery and spoil; the poor sheep flies to the bush for shelter, and loses his fleece!' 'Papists and malignants compound, and they oppress their poor tenants that have engaged themselves in the public cause for the Lord against their lords!' A fourth confirms, and concludes with the other three: 'England must be destroyed. They have falsified the oath of God. Oaths and covenants are like Sampson's cords; every one makes use of them to his own interests!' To these agreed many more, so that there was a great cry heard in the house: 'Down with it, down with it, even to the ground!' God looked from His throne, and wondered there was not one found—not one to stand in the gap to make an atonement to speak in the behalf of England. After a short silence, one arose from his seat, and said: 'Lord, wilt Thou destroy England—England, for whom Thou hast done so great things? Wilt Thou destroy what Thine hand hath done? What will the Atheists, the Papists, the malignants say? Surely God was not able to save them. Save them, then, for Thy great name's sake!' A second ariseth, and saith: 'England must not be destroyed! Lord, wilt Thou destroy a righteous nation, if there be fifty, forty, thirty, twenty, ten righteous there? Shall not the judge of all the earth do that which is right? There are seven thousand at least that have not bowed their knees to Baal! There are sixty thousand, and more, yea, than sixty hundred thousand, that cannot discern betwixt the right hand and the left! Thou never didst destroy a praying, a reforming people! Wilt Thou now do what was never in Thy thoughts before?' A third ariseth after the second, and pleads the same cause: 'England must not be destroyed! There is a Parliament in the midst of them—physicians of great value! God hath been amongst them, and in the midst of them; and they are still acting for God and the kingdom's safety! Did ever Parliament perish before?' After all these, the fourth ariseth, that there might not appear fewer to speak for than there was to speak against England: 'England must not be destroyed! They cannot die alone; the three kingdoms must die with them—yea, the Protestants' churches throughout the world! Hast Thou not said that hell gates shall not prevail against Thy people?' To these many more joined in heart and vote, so that there was a considerable party of both sides; nor could it be determined whether had more voices, those that spake for the destruction, or they that spake for the salvation of England. And having said, they were silent.

"And behold, as we read in the Revelation, there was in heaven great silence for half an hour, both sides waiting for God's determination. At last, God in His glorious majesty raised Himself from His throne, and effectually cried out: 'How shall I give thee up, England? how shall I give thee up?' And so, without conclusion and final determination, He dissolved the session, to the admiration and astonishment of both parties."[168]

Martindale.

Adam Martindale, with whom we become intimately acquainted through the medium of his autobiography—had been a tutor, and had kept school in very strange places—even in public-houses, where he had been compelled to share in both bed and board with such companions as Papists, and soldiers, and drunkards. His employment as a schoolmaster had been adopted in order to avoid enlistment as a soldier; yet he was taken prisoner by Prince Rupert in the town of Liverpool, and made to walk without any shoes—the troopers, as he hobbled along, snapping his ears with their pistol-locks. Having been converted under a kind of preaching which he compares to "a sharp needle drawing after it a silken thread of comfort," he wished to enter one of the Universities, and to take holy orders; but, during a visitation of the plague, he was persuaded to preach in Manchester, an incident which led to his immediate entrance upon the sacred office. He became minister of Gorton,—a chapelry in the parish of Manchester,—where his relation to the Manchester Presbytery was somewhat peculiar; for he would not avow himself either a Presbyterian or a Congregationalist, and, although he signed the rules of the Classical Assembly, he would never attend any of the meetings of that body. On leaving Gorton, he accepted the vicarage of Rosthern, in the county of Chester; the parishioners there uniting in an engagement to pay him the sum of £10 quarterly. Not having been ordained, he now sought ordination from the Manchester ministers; and, upon being refused the rite at their hands, he proceeded to London to obtain it there. After much perplexity respecting the Engagement, he at last subscribed, but the subscription seems to have troubled his conscience; and in his new Cheshire incumbency, where he laboured with singular diligence, he met with additional trials from certain "gifted" brethren belonging to a Congregational Church in the neighbourhood who were exceedingly fond of preaching. Nevertheless, he maintained fellowship with Pastors of that denomination, and promoted the establishment of a voluntary union, as distinguished from the Manchester classis, with which institution he ever scrupled to identify himself.