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.