So when like zeal their bosoms did inspire,
The Jewish martyrs walk’d unhurt in fire!”[[35]]
We are not sure that even this was intended to be considered as the description of a fact actually occurring in the history of the poet’s father-in-law. It might be nothing more than a poetical and general description of the position taken by the ten thousand clergy, who refused to read King James’s declaration. Anyhow, for the reason already mentioned, it could not be true of Samuel Wesley, sen. No doubt Samuel Wesley was as brave a man as ever lived; and had he been placed in the circumstances, stated by Henry Moore, he would have had sufficient courage to act as it is alleged he did. He regarded King James as a tyrant; and his views of the king’s declaration may be fairly gathered from the following question and answer in the Athenian Oracle:—[[36]]
“Ques. What think you of the liberty of conscience granted in the late reign? Was it procured by the Catholics out of any design, or purely for the good and peace of the subjects?
“Ans. It is contrary to reason to believe that any true and zealous Papist can be for liberty of conscience, it being a fundamental of their religion, that all who differ from them in matters of faith are heretics, and ought to be destroyed. And, as it is natural for every persuasion to plead for liberty when they are denied it, and cannot have the freedom to serve God in their own method, so likewise, experience teaches us, that if the wheel turns, these very men which abhorred persecution, are no sooner in power but immediately endeavour by force to bring others to a compliance with what they profess. And if we find this error amongst the mildest and most charitable persuasions, we dare confidently affirm it would not have been otherwise with Roman Catholics, since they look upon the converting of heretics to be no small meritorious work.”
But leaving the ten thousand clergymen who refused to read King James’s declaration, and also abstaining from any further notice of the apochryphal story concerning Samuel Wesley’s bravery, we must now return to the declaration itself.
James commanded this royal manifesto to be read in churches, and charged the bishops to take care that his mandate was obeyed. Two days before the time when the declaration was to be first read, six of the bishops met the primate, Sancroft, at his palace at Lambeth; and there, with the assent of the ex-minister Lord Clarendon, and of Tillotson, Stillingfleet, Patrick, Tennison, Grove, and Sherlock, esteemed the best preachers and writers in the Church, it was privately resolved that a petition, prepared by Sancroft, should be forthwith presented to his Majesty. The petition, which was delivered on the evening of the same day, humbly showed that the objection of the clergy to read the declaration did not arise from their want of obedience to the king, nor yet from any want of tenderness to Dissenters; but because the declaration was founded upon a dispensing power in the king, which had often been declared illegal in parliament. James read the petition, and coolly folded it up, and then, with disdain and anger, said, “This is a great surprise to me. This is a standard of rebellion.” The bishops protested against such an interpretation. James kept muttering, “Is this what I have deserved from the Church of England? I will remember you who have signed this paper. I will be obeyed.” On the morrow, as he was on his way to mass, he met the Bishop of St David’s. “My lord,” cried he, “your brethren have presented the most seditious paper that was ever penned. It is a trumpet of rebellion.”
Three weeks after, the seven bishops were summoned before the Privy Council, to answer a charge of high misdemeanour, and were committed to the Tower. They were conveyed from Whitehall by water, and were followed by the tears and prayers of thousands. Both banks of the Thames were lined with multitudes, who fell on their knees, beseeching God to protect the sufferers for religion and liberty. The very soldiers in the Tower acted as mourners; and even the Nonconformists, who had felt all the bitterness of Episcopal persecution, sent a deputation of ten of their ministers to wait upon, and condole with the prisoners. Twenty-eight peers were ready to bail them; and messages were brought over from Holland, assuring them of the sympathy of the Prince and Princess of Orange.
A week later, on the 15th of June, they were brought before the King’s Bench, by a writ of habeas corpus. An immense concourse of people received them on the bank of the river, and followed them to Westminster Hall, the greater part falling upon their knees, wishing them happiness, and asking their blessing. Within the court, the bishops found the peers who offered to be their sureties, and a crowd of gentlemen attached to their interests. They were charged with a seditious libel. They pleaded “Not Guilty.” The trial was then postponed for a fortnight.
At the expiration of that time, the bishops again entered Westminster Hall, surrounded by lords and gentlemen, and followed by prayers and blessings. The trial began at nine o’clock in the morning. At seven in the evening, the jury retired to consider their verdict, and were locked up all night. At nine next morning, they returned the verdict “Not Guilty.” The noblemen, gentlemen, and people within the court raised a loud huzza. This was echoed back by a louder huzza from those without. As the bishops passed to the river side, there was a lane of people, all on their knees, to beg their benediction. Sixty earls and lords were present, joining in the jubilations of the people. At night London was lighted from end to end with blazing bonfires, all the church bells were ringing, and the Pope was burned in effigy before the windows of the royal palace. The excitement was amazing. James’s popish and despotic reign was doomed. The royally-applauded atrocities of Judge Jeffreys, which made the land a shambles, and turned the law itself into the bloodiest of tyrannies, awoke only groans and muttered curses; but the imprisonment of seven bishops at once brought about a revolution.