1688–1702.
Ordinations emerged from private habitations when, in September, 1689, five ministers were ordained by Oliver Heywood and four of his brethren, after a notice had been given that the service would be held in the meeting-house at Alverthorpe, “to which whoever had a desire might repair.” One of the candidates stood behind a chair, and poured out a Latin discourse, which seemed to be extempore, but which Heywood believed to be memoriter, upon the validity of Presbyterian orders. This person behaved in an extraordinary manner the next day, for he was seen “walking in a lane, reading a book,” whilst the ordaining ministers were waiting for his appearance. After he had arrived, and had given in his confession, “running through the whole body of Divinity, according to Mr. Baxter’s Methodus Theologiæ, we proceeded,” says Heywood, “to setting the candidates apart. I came down, and there being a void space made, we made them kneel down, one by one, while we all prayed over them.” This was succeeded by the imposition of hands, the delivery of a Bible, the grasp of fellowship, a charge to the ordained, and a sermon to the congregation. The ministers assembled at eight o’clock, waited till ten for the eccentric youth, and did not terminate the service before five in the afternoon, when a dinner followed, at the charge of the ordained.
Another service occurred in 1690, with accompaniments still more unseemly, the misbehaviour now being on the part of ordainers. The service took place at Rathmel in Yorkshire. Oliver Heywood and other Presbyterians came to share in the solemnity with two Independent ministers. Strange as it appears, those who thus met had not agreed what should be done; and one of the Independents, as Heywood reports, urged objections which the Presbyterians undertook to answer. He objected, amongst other things, that messengers from neighbouring churches were not present, and that the minister in this case would not be, as he ought, ordained in the midst of the congregation he intended to serve. Both the Independents were desired to pray, but they refused, “and sat by the whole day taking no part in the proceedings.” The service, however, was decorously enough conducted by the Presbyterians, who, touching the heads of the candidates, offered prayer, and after presenting a Bible, gave the right hand of fellowship. Heywood preached to the candidates and to the people, and the whole ended with singing and prayer. If anybody had wished to prejudice orderly people against Nonconformity, he could not have followed a more effectual method than we find pursued by Independents on this occasion.
NONCONFORMISTS.
A few Presbyterians attempted to revive synodical action, and a meeting with that view at Newbury created much stir—displeasing Nonconformists, who regarded it as injudicious, and provoking Churchmen, who urged it was unjust. Convocation remained in shackles; why, then, should Presbyterian Synods be free?[493] This question was asked, in forgetfulness of the obvious difference relative to the state of voluntary churches on the one hand, and endowed churches on the other.
1688–1702.
As ministers could not continue by reason of death, it became necessary to reinforce the ranks. One young student of honourable descent made his appearance in public life at this juncture. Edmund Calamy—grandson of the Divine of the same name, who had been Incumbent of Aldermanbury—after studying in Holland, where he had accumulated stores of Dutch theology, returned to his native land, and went down to Oxford, where he devoted himself to the study of the question, whether he should enter the Church, or continue his lot with Dissenters? Certainly if anybody ever gave himself to the investigation of the subject, young Edmund did—for, first, he studied the Bible; then he read several of the Fathers, with all sorts of critical helps; then he perused Pearson, on the Ignatian Epistles, as well as Monsieur Daillé and Larroque on the other side; then he betook himself to the examination of Chillingworth’s Religion of Protestants, which he carefully epitomized; then he attacked Hooker’s Ecclesiastical Polity, and went through it book by book, setting down the arguments with such remarks as they suggested; then he turned to Jeremy Taylor’s Ductor Dubitantium, dealing with this as he had done with the rest; and, lastly, with care he read over the Articles, Liturgy, Homilies, and Canons of the Church of England.[494] Such an amount of reading for the settlement of opinion was very well for a youth of twenty-one, and, making allowance for a bias derived from family traditions and from the ugly memories of 1662, we must credit him with candour in looking at the subject on all sides. According to his own account, his reading was chiefly in favour of Episcopacy; yet his conclusion was decidedly in favour of Nonconformity. The Nonconformity which he adopted, however, was moderate; it shrunk neither from Episcopal orders, Liturgical worship, nor the Establishment principle, but from certain things enforced by the Church of England. He tells us himself that he would have received ordination at the hands of a Bishop, “could he have found anyone that would not have demanded a subscription and engagement to conformity, and a subjection to the present ecclesiastical government.”[495]
NONCONFORMISTS.
1688–1702.
It is remarkable to find how much this young man engaged in preaching when he had made up his mind upon ecclesiastical points. He occupied pulpits wherever they were open. He seems to have been welcomed everywhere—now officiating at the opening of a meeting-house, and once at least preaching in a parish church.[496] He had conflicting invitations. He describes a visit to Andover, where the meeting-house was in a back yard, through which he had to pass, the people making a lane for him and presenting their acknowledgments for his good sermon; and how he found the parlour full of men, women, and children—amongst them was a grave old woman with a high-crowned hat, who thanked him civilly for his pains, telling him she thought a special Providence had sent such a shepherd to such neglected sheep. The conversation, however, as it went on proved less and less satisfactory, since it turned out that these Andover folks were divided into parties, the old lady’s Calvinistic sentiments being loftier even than her steeple headgear.[497] Calamy travelled down to Bristol, the great Nonconformist stronghold in the west, to preach to a congregation of 1,500 people, and was met at Bath by a couple of gentlemen, “with a man and horse,” to conduct him to his destination. Upon the road others came to welcome the stranger, like the brethren who met Paul at Appii-Forum, and brought him on his way “in a manner very respectful.” Many of the congregation were wealthy, and they offered him £100 a year and a house to live in, as assistant to their infirm pastor. But, upon returning to London, Calamy decided on accepting an invitation to assist Mr. Sylvester upon an allowance of £40 per annum.[498] He had there the counterbalancing advantage of mixing in the best Nonconformist society. He spent many an evening at the house of Dr. Upton, in Warwick-court, where he met his colleague and Mr. Lorimer, Mr. John Shower, Mr. Nathaniel Taylor, Mr. Thomas Kentish, Mr. Nathaniel Oldfield—names now little known, but celebrities in their own day. Other ministerial meetings were kept up in Dr. Annesley’s vestry, Little St. Helen’s, where once a month Latin disputations took place. Whilst thus engaged, Calamy remained unordained. Desirous of this rite, he successively requested Howe and Bates to take part in it. But no public ordination had yet been held within the city precints. Howe at first seemed pleased with the proposal, but afterwards demurred, saying he must wait upon Lord Somers, and inquire whether such a proceeding would not be taken ill at Court. Bates decidedly declined, and continued to do so for reasons he would not communicate. Matthew Mead was indirectly asked, but begged to be excused, because, as an Independent, he feared he might offend some of his brethren by joining in a Presbyterian ordination. The whole of the transaction is enveloped in mystery; perhaps Bates had not given up all hopes of a comprehension, and thought a public ordination might bar the way to it; perhaps he had given some pledge not to engage in any such service; perhaps Howe was not quite free from similar determents, and both might for personal reasons be unwilling to do what they had no objection should be done by others. My own impression is that both, especially Howe, clung with tenacity to the idea of one united church in England, and though they had little hope of seeing the idea turned into fact, they shrunk from a service like public ordination as perpetuating a separation they would fain have seen come to an end.