Chapter XXI: Part 21

It is affirmed, in the manuscript account already referred to, that one Bible swarmed with _six thousand faults_! Indeed, from another source we discover that "Sterne, a solid scholar, was the first who summed up the _three thousand and six hundred_ faults that were in our printed Bibles of London."[274] If one book can be made to contain near four thousand errors, little ingenuity was required to reach to six thousand; but perhaps this is the first time so remarkable an incident in the history of literature has ever been chronicled. And that famous edition of the Vulgate, by Pope Sixtus the Fifth, a memorable book of blunders, which commands such high prices, ought now to fall in value, before the pearl Bible, in twenty-fours, of Messrs. Hills and Field!

Mr. Field and his worthy coadjutor seem to have carried the favour of the reigning powers over their opponents; for I find a piece of their secret history. They engaged to pay 500_l._ per annum to some, "whose names I forbear to mention," warily observes the manuscript writer; and above 100_l._ per annum to Mr. _Marchmont Needham and his wife_, out of the profits of the sales of their Bibles; deriding, insulting, and triumphing over others, out of their confidence in their great friends and purse, as if they were lawless and free, both from offence and punishment.[275] This Marchmont Needham is sufficiently notorious, and his secret history is probably true; for in a Mercurius Politicus of this unprincipled Cobbett of his day, I found an elaborate puff of an edition published by the annuity-granter to this worthy and his wife!

Not only had the Bible to suffer these indignities of size and price, but the Prayer-book was once printed in an illegible and worn-out type; on which the printer being complained of, he stoutly replied, that "it was as good as the price afforded; and being a book which all persons ought to have by heart, it was no matter whether it was read or not, so that it was worn out in their hands." The puritans seem not to have been so nice about the source of purity itself.

These hand-bibles of the sectarists, with their six thousand errata, like the false Duessa, covered their crafty deformity with a fair raiment; for when the great Selden, in the assembly of divines, delighted to confute them in their own learning, he would say, as Whitelock reports, when they had cited a text to prove their assertion, "Perhaps in your little pocket-bible with gilt leaves," which they would often pull out and read, "the translation may be so, but the Greek or the Hebrew signifies this."

While these transactions were occurring, it appears that the authentic translation of the Bible, such as we now have it, by the learned translators in James the First's time, was suffered to lie neglected. The copies of the original manuscript were in the possession of two of the king's printers, who, from cowardice, consent, and connivance, suppressed the publication; considering that the Bible full of errata, and often, probably, accommodated to the notions of certain sectarists, was more valuable than one authenticated by the hierarchy! Such was the state of the English Bible till 1660![276]

The proverbial expression of _chapter and verse_ seems peculiar to ourselves, and, I suspect, originated in the puritanic period, probably just before the civil wars under Charles the First, from the frequent use of appealing to the Bible on the most frivolous occasions, practised by those whom South calls "those mighty men at _chapter and verse_." With a sort of religious coquetry, they were vain of perpetually opening their gilt pocket Bibles; they perked them up with such self-sufficiency and perfect ignorance of the original, that the learned Selden found considerable amusement in going to their "assembly of divines," and puzzling or confuting them, as we have noticed. A ludicrous anecdote on one of these occasions is given by a contemporary, which shows how admirably that learned man amused himself with this "assembly of divines!" They were discussing the distance between Jerusalem and Jericho, with a perfect ignorance of sacred or of ancient geography; one said it was twenty miles, another ten, and at last it was concluded to be only seven, for this strange reason, that fish was brought from Jericho to Jerusalem market! Selden observed, that "possibly the fish in question was salted," and silenced these acute disputants.

It would probably have greatly discomposed these "chapter and verse" men to have informed them that the Scriptures had neither chapter nor verse! It is by no means clear how the holy writings were anciently divided, and still less how quoted or referred to. The honour of the invention of the present arrangement of the Scriptures is ascribed to Robert Stephens, by his son, in the preface to his Concordance, a task which he performed during a journey on horseback from Paris to London, in 1551; and whether it was done as Yorick would in his Shandean manner lounging on his mule, or at his intermediate baits, he has received all possible thanks for this employment of his time. Two years afterwards he concluded with the Bible. But that the honour of every invention may be disputed, Sanctus Pagninus's Bible, printed at Lyons in 1527, seems to have led the way to these convenient divisions; Stephens, however, improved on Pagninus's mode of paragraphical marks and marginal verses; and our present "chapter and verse," more numerous and more commodiously numbered, were the project of this learned printer, to _recommend his edition of the Bible_; trade and learning were once combined! Whether in this arrangement any disturbance of the continuity of the text has followed, is a subject not fitted for my inquiry.

FOOTNOTES:

[270] Harl. MS. 6395.

[271] "Scintilla, or a light broken into darke Warehouses; of some
Printers, sleeping Stationers, and combining Booksellers; in which
is only a touch of their forestalling and ingrossing of Books in
Pattents, and raysing them to excessive prises. Left to the
consideration of the high and honourable House of Parliament, now
assembled. London: Nowhere to be sold, but somewhere to be given."
1641.

[272] A technical printing-term for a sheet containing twenty-four
pages.

[273] The passage is as follows, and is addressed by the apostles to
"the multitude of the disciples," who desired an improved clerical
rule:--"Wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven men of
honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, whom _we_ may
appoint over this business."

[274] G. Garrard's Letter to the Earl of Strafford, vol. i. p. 208.

[275] Harl. MS. 7580.

[276] See the London Printers' Lamentation on the Press Oppressed.
Harl. Coll. iii. 280.

VIEW OF A PARTICULAR PERIOD OF THE STATE OF RELIGION IN OUR CIVIL WARS.

Looking over the manuscript diary of Sir Symonds D'Ewes, I was struck by a picture of the domestic religious life which at that period was prevalent among families. Sir Symonds was a sober antiquary, heated with no fanaticism, yet I discovered in his diary that he was a visionary in his constitution, macerating his body by private fasts, and spiritualising in search of _secret signs_. These ascetic penances were afterwards succeeded in the nation by an era of hypocritical sanctity; and we may trace this last stage of insanity and of immorality closing with impiety. This would be a dreadful picture of religion, if for a moment we supposed that it were _religion_; that consolatory power which has its source in our feelings, and according to the derivation of its expressive term, _binds men together_. With us it was sectarism, whose origin and causes we shall not now touch on, which broke out into so many monstrous shapes, when every pretended reformer was guided by his own peculiar fancies: we have lived to prove that folly and wickedness are rarely obsolete.

The age of Sir Symonds D'Ewes, who lived through the times of Charles the First, was religious; for the character of this monarch had all the seriousness and piety not found in the _bonhomie_ and careless indecorums of his father, whose manners of the Scottish court were moulded on the gaieties of the French, from the ancient intercourse of the French and Scottish governments. But this religious age of Charles the First presents a strange contrast with the licentiousness which subsequently prevailed among the people: there seems to be a secret connexion between a religious and an irreligious period: the levity of popular feeling is driven to and fro by its reaction; when man has been once taught to contemn his mere humanity, his abstract fancies open a secret bye-path to his presumed salvation; he wanders till he is lost--he trembles till he dotes in melancholy--he raves till truth itself is no longer immutable. The transition to a very opposite state is equally rapid and vehement. Such is the history of man when his religion is founded on misdirected feelings; and such, too, is the reaction so constantly operating in all human affairs.

The writer of this diary did not belong to those nonconformists who arranged themselves in hostility to the established religion and political government of our country. A private gentleman and a phlegmatic antiquary, Sir Symonds withal was a zealous Church of England protestant. Yet amidst the mystical allusions of an age of religious controversies, we see these close in the scenes we are about to open, and find this quiet gentleman tormenting himself and his lady by watching for "certain _evident marks_ and _signs of an assurance_ for a better life," with I know not how many distinct sorts of "Graces."

I give an extract from the manuscript diary:--

"I spent this day chiefly in _private fasting_, prayer, and other
religious exercises. This was the first time that I ever practised
this duty, having always before declined it, by reason of the
papists' superstitious abuses of it. I had partaken formerly of
_public fasts_, but never knew the use and benefit of the same duty
performed alone in secret, or with others of mine own family in
private. In these particulars, I had my knowledge much enlarged by
the religious converse I enjoyed at Albury Lodge, for there also I
shortly after entered upon _framing an evidence of marks and signs
for my assurance of a better life_.

"I found much benefit of my _secret fasting_, from a learned
discourse on fasting by Mr. Henry Mason, and observed his rule, that
Christians ought to sit sometimes apart for their ordinary
humiliation and fasting, and so intend to continue the same course as
long as my health will permit me. Yet did I vary the times and
duration of my fasting. At first, before I had finished _the marks
and signs of my assurance of a better life, which scrutiny and search
cost me some three-score days of fasting_, I performed it sometimes
twice in the space of five weeks, then once each month, or a little
sooner or later, and then also I sometimes ended the duties of the
day, and took some little food about three of the clock in the
afternoon. But for divers years last past, I constantly abstained
from all food the whole day. I fasted till supper-time, about six in
the evening, and spent ordinarily about eight or nine hours in the
performance of religious duties; one part of which was _prayer and
confession of sins_, to which end I wrote down _a catalogue of all my
known sins_, orderly. These were all sins of _infirmity_; for,
through God's grace, I was so far from allowing myself in the
practice and commission of any _actual_ sin, as I durst not take upon
me any _controversial sins_, as usury, carding, dicing, mixt dancing,
and the like, because I was in mine own judgment persuaded they were
unlawful. Till I had finished my _assurance_ first in English and
afterwards in Latin, with a large and an elaborate preface in Latin
also to it; I spent a great part of the day at that work, &c.

"Saturday, December 1, 1627, I devoted to my usual course of _secret
fasting_, and drew divers _signs of my assurance of a better life_
from the _grace_ of repentance, having before gone through the
_graces_ of knowledge, faith, hope, love, zeal, patience, humility,
and joy; and drawing several marks from them on like days of
humiliation for the greater part. My dear wife beginning also to draw
_most certain signs_ of her own future happiness after death from
_several graces_.

"January 19, 1628.--Saturday I spent in secret humiliation and
fastings, and finished _my whole assurance to a better life_,
consisting of THREE SCORE and FOUR SIGNS, or marks drawn from
_several graces_. I made some small alterations in the signs
afterwards; and when I turned them into the Latin tongue, I enriched
the margent with further _proofs and authorities_. I found much
comfort and reposedness of spirit from them, which shows the devilish
sophisms of the papists, anabaptists, and pseudo-Lutherans, and
profane atheistical men, who say that _assurance_ brings forth
presumption, and a careless wicked life. True, when men pretend to
the end, and not use the means.

"My wife joined with me in a private day of _fasting_, and drew
_several signs and marks by_ MY _help and assistance, for her
assurance to a better life_."

This was an era of religious diaries, particularly among the nonconformists; but they were, as we see, used by others. Of the Countess of Warwick, who died in 1678, we are told that "she kept a diary, and took counsel with two persons, whom she called her _soul's friends_." She called prayers _heart's ease_, for such she found them. "Her own lord, knowing her _hours of prayers_, once conveyed a godly minister into _a secret place_ within hearing, who, being a man very able to judge, much admired her humble fervency; for in praying she prayed aloud; but when she did not with an audible voice, her sighs and groans might be heard at a good distance from the closet." We are not surprised to discover this practice of religious diaries among the more puritanic sort: what they were we may gather from this description of one. Mr. John Janeway "kept a diary, in which he wrote down _every evening_ what the _frame of his spirit_ had been _all that day_; he took notice what _incomes_ he had, what _profit_ he received in his spiritual traffic: what _returns_ came from that far country; what _answers_ of prayer, what deadness and flatness of spirit," &c. And so we find of Mr. John Carter, that "He kept a _day-book_ and _cast up his accounts_ with God every day."[277] To such worldly notions had they humiliated the spirit of religion; and this style, and this mode of religion, has long been continued among us even among men of superior acquisitions: as witness the "Spiritual Diary and Soliloquies" of a learned physician within our own times, Dr. Rutty, which is a great curiosity of the kind.

Such was the domestic state of many well-meaning families: they were rejecting with the utmost abhorrence every resemblance to what they called the idolatry of Rome, while, in fact, the gloom of the monastic cell was settling over the houses of these melancholy puritans. Private fasts were more than ever practised; and a lady, said to be eminent for her genius and learning, who outlived this era, declared that she had nearly lost her life through a prevalent notion that _no fat person could get to heaven_; and thus spoiled and wasted her body through excessive fastings. A quaker, to prove the text that "Man shall not live _by bread alone_, but by the word of God," persisted in refusing his meals. The literal text proved for him a dead letter, and this practical commentator died by a metaphor. This quaker, however, was not the only victim to the letter of the text; for the famous Origen, by interpreting in too literal a way the 12th verse of the 19th of St. Matthew, which alludes to those persons who become eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven, with his own hands armed himself against himself, as is sufficiently known. "_Retournons a nos moutons!_" The parliament afterwards had both periodical and occasional fasts; and Charles the First opposed "the hypocritical fast of every Wednesday in the month, by appointing one for the second Friday;" the two unhappy parties, who were hungering and thirsting for each other's blood, were fasting in spite one against the other!

Without inquiring into the causes, even if we thought that we could ascertain them, of that frightful dissolution of religion which so long prevailed in our country, and of which the very corruption it has left behind still breeds in monstrous shapes, it will be sufficient to observe that the destruction of the monarchy and the ecclesiastical order was a moral earthquake, overturning all minds, and opening all changes. A theological logomachy was substituted by the sullen and proud ascetics who ascended into power. These, without wearying themselves, wearied all others, and triumphed over each other by their mutual obscurity. The two great giants in this theological war were the famous Richard Baxter and Dr. Owen. They both wrote a library of books; but the endless controversy between them was the extraordinary and incomprehensible subject, whether the death of Christ was _solutio ejusdem_, or only _tantundem_; that is, whether it was a payment of the very thing, which by law we ought to have paid, or of something held by God to be equivalent. Such was the point on which this debate between Owen and Baxter lasted without end.

Yet these metaphysical absurdities were harmless, compared to what was passing among the more hot fanatics, who were for acting the wild fancies which their melancholy brains engendered; men, who from the places into which they had thrust themselves, might now be called "the higher orders of society!" These two parties alike sent forth an evil spirit to walk among the multitude. Every one would become his own law-maker, and even his own prophet; the meanest aspired to give his name to his sect. All things were to be put in motion according to the St. Vitus's dance of the last new saint. "Away with the Law! which cuts off a man's legs and then bids him walk!" cried one from his pulpit. "Let believers sin as fast as they will, they have a fountain open to wash them;" declared another teacher. We had the _Brownists_, from Robert Brown, the _Vaneists_, from Sir Harry Vane, then we sink down to Mr. Traske, Mr. Wilkinson, Mr. Robinson, and H. N., or Henry Nicholas, of the Family of Love, besides Mrs. Hutchinson, and the Grindletonian family, who preferred "motions to motives," and conveniently assumed that "their spirit is not to be tried by the Scripture, but the Scripture by their spirit." Edwards, the author of "Gangraena," the adversary of Milton, whose work may still be preserved for its curiosity, though immortalised by the scourge of genius, has furnished a list of about two hundred of such sects in these times. A divine of the Church of England observed to a great sectary, "You talk of the idolatry of Rome: but each of you, whenever you have made and set up a calf, will dance about it."[278]

This confusion of religions, if, indeed, these pretended modes of faith could be classed among religions, disturbed the consciences of good men, who read themselves in and out of their vacillating creed. It made, at least, even one of the puritans themselves, who had formerly complained that they had not enjoyed sufficient freedom under the bishops, cry out against "this cursed intolerable toleration." And the fact is, that when the presbyterians had fixed themselves into the government, they published several treatises against toleration! The parallel between these wild notions of reform, and those of another character, run closely together. About this time, well-meaning persons, who were neither enthusiasts from the ambition of founding sects, nor of covering their immorality by their impiety, were infected by the _religiosa insania_. One case may stand for many. A Mr. Greswold, a gentleman of Warwickshire, whom a Brownist had by degrees enticed from his parish church, was afterwards persuaded to return to it--but he returned with a troubled mind, and lost in the prevalent theological contests. A horror of his future existence shut him out, as it were, from his present one: retiring into his own house, with his children, he ceased to communicate with the living world. He had his food put in at the window; and when his children lay sick, he admitted no one for their relief. His house at length was forced open, and they found two children dead, and the father confined to his bed. He had mangled his Bible, and cut out the titles, contents, and everything but the very text itself; for it seems that he thought that everything human was sinful, and he conceived that the titles of the books and the contents of the chapters were to be cut out of the sacred Scriptures, as having been composed by men.[279]

More terrible it was when the insanity, which had hitherto been more confined to the better classes, burst forth among the common people. Were we to dwell minutely on this period, we should start from the picture with horror: we might, perhaps, console ourselves with a disbelief of its truth; but the drug, though bitter in the mouth, we must sometimes digest. To observe the extent to which the populace can proceed, disfranchised of law and religion, will always leave a memorable recollection.

What occurred in the French Revolution had happened here--an age of impiety! Society itself seemed dissolved, for every tie of private affection and of public duty was unloosened. Even nature was strangely violated! From the first opposition to the decorous ceremonies of the national church, by the simple puritans, the next stage was that of ridicule, and the last of obloquy. They began by calling the surplice a linen rag on the back; baptism a Christ's cross on a baby's face; and the organ was likened to the bellow, the grunt, and the barking of the respective animals. They actually baptized horses in churches at the fonts; and the jest of that day was, that the Reformation was now a thorough one in England, since our horses went to church.[280] St. Paul's cathedral was turned into a market, and the aisles, the communion-table, and the altar, served for the foulest purposes.[281] The liberty which every one now assumed of delivering his own opinions, led to acts so execrable, that I can find no parallel for them except in the mad times of the French Revolution. Some maintained that there existed no distinction between moral good and moral evil; and that every man's actions were prompted by the Creator. Prostitution was professed as a religious act; a glazier was declared to be a prophet, and the woman he cohabited with was said to be ready to lie in of the Messiah. A man married his father's wife. Murders of the most extraordinary nature were occurring; one woman crucified her mother; another, in imitation of Abraham, sacrificed her child; we hear, too, of parricides. Amidst the slaughters of civil wars, spoil and blood had accustomed the people to contemplate the most horrible scenes. One madman of the many, we find drinking a health on his knees, in the midst of a town, "to the devil! that it might be said that his family should not be extinct without doing some infamous act." A Scotchman, one Alexander Agnew, commonly called "Jock of broad Scotland," whom one cannot call an atheist, for he does not seem to deny the existence of the Creator, nor a future state, had a shrewdness of local humour in his strange notions. Omitting some offensive things, others as strange may exhibit the state to which the reaction of an hypocritical system of religion had driven the common people. "Jock of broad Scotland" said he was nothing in God's common, for God had given him nothing; he was no more obliged to God than to the devil; for God was very greedy. Neither God nor the devil gave the fruits of the ground; the wives of the country gave him his meat. When asked wherein he believed, he answered, "He believed in white meal, water, and salt. Christ was not God; for he came into the world after it was made, and died as other men." He declared that "he did not know whether God or the devil had the greatest power; but he thought the devil was the greatest. When I die, let God and the devil strive for my soul, and let him that is strongest take it." He no doubt had been taught by the presbytery to mock religious rites; and when desired to give God thanks for his meat, he said, "Take a sackful of prayers to the mill and grind them, and take your breakfast of them." To others he said, "I will give you a two-pence, to pray until a boll of meal, and one stone of butter, fall from heaven through the house rigging (roof) to you." When bread and cheese were laid on the ground by him, he said, "If I leave this, I will long cry to God before he give it me again." To others he said, "Take a bannock, and break it in two, and lay down one half thereof, and you will long pray to God before he will put the other half to it again!" He seems to have been an anti-trinitarian. He said he received everything from nature, which had ever reigned and ever would. He would not conform to any religious system, nor name the three Persons,--"At all these things I have long shaken my cap," he said. "Jock of broad Scotland" seems to have been one of those who imagine that God should have furnished them with bannocks ready baked.

The extravagant fervour then working in the minds of the people is marked by the story told by Clement Walker of the soldier who entered a church with a lantern and a candle burning in it, and in the other hand four candles not lighted. He said he came to deliver his message from God, and show it by these types of candles. Driven into the churchyard, and the wind blowing strong, he could not kindle his candles, and the new prophet was awkwardly compelled to conclude his five denouncements, abolishing the Sabbath, tithes, ministers, magistrates, and, at last, the Bible itself, without putting out each candle, as he could not kindle them; observing, however, each time--"And here I should put out the first light, but the wind is so high that I cannot kindle it."

A perfect scene of the effects which the state of irreligious society produced among the lower orders I am enabled to give from the manuscript life of John Shaw, vicar of Rotherham; with a little tediousness, but with infinite _naivete_, he relates what happened to himself. This honest divine was puritanically inclined, but there can be no exaggeration in these unvarnished facts. He tells a remarkable story of the state of religious knowledge in Lancashire, at a place called Cartmel: some of the people appeared desirous of religious instruction, declaring that they were without any minister, and had entirely neglected every religious rite, and therefore pressed him to quit his situation at Lymm for a short period. He may now tell his own story.

"I found a very large spacious church, scarce any seats in it; a
people very ignorant, and yet willing to learn; so as I had
frequently some thousands of hearers, I catechised in season and out
of season. The churches were so thronged at nine in the morning, that
I had much ado to get to the pulpit. One day, an old man about sixty,
sensible enough in other things, and living in the parish of Cartmel,
coming to me on some business, I told him that he belonged to my care
and charge, and I desired to be informed of his knowledge in
religion. I asked him how many Gods there were? He said he knew not.
I informing him, asked again how he thought to be saved? He answered
he could not tell. Yet thought that was a harder question than the
other. I told him that the way to salvation was by Jesus Christ,
God-man, who as he was man shed his blood for us on the cross, &c.
Oh, sir, said he, I think I heard of that man you speak of once in a
play at Kendall, called Corpus-Christ's play,[282] where there was a
man on a tree and blood run down, &c. And afterwards he professed he
could not remember that he ever heard of salvation by Jesus, but in
that play."

The scenes passing in the metropolis, as well as in the country, are opened to us in one of the chronicling poems of George Withers. Our sensible rhymer wrote in November, 1652, "a Darke Lanthorne" on the present subject.

After noticing that God, to mortify us, had sent preachers from the "shop-board and the plough,"

----Such as we seem justly to contemn,
As making truths abhorred, which come from them;

he seems, however, inclined to think that these self-taught "Teachers and Prophets" in their darkness might hold a certain light within them:

----Children, fools,
Women, and madmen, we do often meet
Preaching, and threatening judgments in the street,
Yea by strange actions, postures, tones, and cries,
Themselves they offer to our ears and eyes
As signs unto this nation.----
They act as men in ecstacies have done----
Striving their cloudy visions to declare,
Till they have lost the notions which they had,
And want but few degrees of being mad.[283]

Such is the picture of the folly and of the wickedness, which, after having been preceded by the piety of a religious age, were succeeded by a dominion of hypocritical sanctity, and then closed in all the horrors of immorality and impiety. The parliament at length issued one of their ordinances for "punishing blasphemous and execrable opinions," and this was enforced with greater power than the slighted proclamations of James and Charles; but the curious wording is a comment on our present subject. The preamble notices that "men and women had lately discovered _monstrous opinions_, even such as tended to _the dissolution of human society, and have abused, and turned into licentiousness, the liberty given in matters of religion_." It punishes any person not distempered in his brains, who shall maintain any mere creature to be God; or that all acts of unrighteousness are not forbidden in the Scriptures; or that God approves of them; or that there is no real difference between moral good and evil, &c.

To this disordered state was the public mind reduced, for this proclamation was only describing what was passing among the people! The view of this subject embraces more than one point, which I leave for the meditation of the politician, as well as the religionist.

FOOTNOTES:

[277] "The Lives of Sundry Eminent Persons in this Later Age;" by
Samuel Clarke. Folio, 1683. A rare volume, with curious portraits.

[278] Alexander Ross's laborious "View of all Religions" may also be
consulted with advantage by those who would study this subject.

[279] "The Hypocrite Discovered and Cured," by Sam. Torshall, 4to.
1644.

[280] There is a pamphlet which records a strange fact. "News from
Powles: or the new Reformation of the army, with a true Relation of
a Colt that was foaled in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, in
London, and how it was publiquely baptised, and the name (because a
bald colt) was called Baal-Rex!" 1649. The water they sprinkled from
the soldier's helmet on this occasion is described. The same
occurred elsewhere. See Foulis's History of the Plots, &c., of our
pretended Saints. These men, who baptized horses and pigs in the
name of the Trinity, sang psalms when they marched. One cannot
easily comprehend the nature of fanaticism, except when we learn
that they refused to pay rents!

[281] That curious compilation by Bruno Ryves, published in 1646,
with the title "Mercurius Rusticus, or the countrie's complaint of
the barbarous outrages committed by the sectaries of this late
flourishing kingdom," furnishes a fearful detail of "sacrileges,
profanations, and plunderings committed in the cathedrall churches."

[282] The festival of Corpus Christi, held on the first Thursday
after Trinity Sunday, was the period chosen in old times for the
performances of miracle-plays by the clergy, or the guilds of
various towns; for an account of them see vol. i. p. 352-362.

[283] There is a little "Treatise of Humilitie, published by
E.D.--Parson, sequestered"--1654; in which, while enforcing the
virtue which his book defends, he with much _naivete_ gives a strong
opinion of his oppressors. "We acknowledge the justice and mercy of
the Lord in punishing us, so we take notice of his wisdom in
choosing such instruments to punish us, _men of mean and low rank,
and of common parts and abilities_. By these he doth admonish all
the honourable, valiant, learned, and wise men of this nation; and
as it were write our sin, in the character of our punishment; and in
_the low condition_ of these instruments of his anger and
displeasure, the rod of his wrath, he would abate and punish our
great pride."

BUCKINGHAM'S POLITICAL COQUETRY WITH THE PURITANS.

Buckingham, observes Hume, "in order to fortify himself against the resentment of James"--on the conduct of the duke in the Spanish match, when James was latterly hearing every day Buckingham against Bristol, and Bristol against Buckingham--"had affected popularity, and entered into the cabals of the puritans; but afterwards, being secure of the confidence of Charles, he had since abandoned this party; and on that account was the more exposed to their hatred and resentment."

The political coquetry of a minister coalescing with an opposition party, when he was on the point of being disgraced, would doubtless open an involved scene of intrigue; and what one exacted, and the other was content to yield, towards the mutual accommodation, might add one more example to the large chapter of political infirmity. Both workmen attempting to convert each other into tools, by first trying their respective malleability on the anvil, are liable to be disconcerted by even a slight accident, whenever that proves, to perfect conviction, how little they can depend on each other, and that each party comes to cheat, and not to be cheated!

This piece of secret history is in part recoverable from good authority. The two great actors were the Duke of Buckingham and Dr. Preston, the master of Emmanual College, and the head of the puritan party.

Dr. Preston was an eminent character, who from his youth was not without ambition. His scholastic learning, the subtilty of his genius, and his more elegant accomplishments, had attracted the notice of James, at whose table he was perhaps more than once honoured as a guest; a suspicion of his puritanic principles was perhaps the only obstacle to his court preferment; yet Preston unquestionably designed to play a political part. He retained the favour of James by the king's hope of withdrawing the doctor from the opposition party, and commanded the favour of Buckingham by the fears of that minister; when, to employ the quaint style of Hacket, the duke foresaw that "he might come to be tried in the furnace of the next sessions of parliament, and he had need to make the refiners his friends:" most of these "refiners" were the puritanic or opposition party. Appointed one of the chaplains of Prince Charles, Dr. Preston had the advantage of being in frequent attendance; and as Hacket tells us, "this politic man felt the pulse of the court, and wanted not the intelligence of all dark mysteries through the Scotch in his highness's bed-chamber." A close communication took place between the duke and Preston, who, as Hacket describes, was "a good crow to smell carrion." He obtained an easy admission to the duke's closet at least thrice a week, and their notable conferences Buckingham appears to have communicated to his confidential friends. Preston, intent on carrying all his points, skilfully commenced with the smaller ones. He winded the duke circuitously,--he worked at him subterraneously. This wary politician was too sagacious to propose what he had at heart--the extirpation of the hierarchy! The thunder of James's voice, "No bishop! no king!" in the conference at Hampton Court, still echoed in the ear of the puritan. He assured the duke that the love of the people was his only anchor, which could only be secured by the most popular measures. A new sort of reformation was easy to execute. Cathedrals and collegiate churches maintained by vast wealth, and the lands of the chapter, only fed "fat, lazy, and unprofitable drones." The dissolution of the foundations of deans and chapters would open an ample source to pay the king's debts, and scatter the streams of patronage. "You would then become the darling of the commonwealth;" I give the words as I find them in Hacket. "If a crumb stick in the throat of any considerable man that attempts an opposition, it will be easy to wash it down with manors, woods, royalties, tythes, &c." It would be furnishing the wants of a number of gentlemen; and he quoted a Greek proverb, "that when a great oak falls, every neighbour may scuffle for a faggot."

Dr. Preston was willing to perform the part which Knox had acted in Scotland! He might have been certain of a party to maintain this national violation of property; for he who calls out "Plunder!" will ever find a gang. These acts of national injustice, so much desired by revolutionists, are never beneficial to the people; they never partake of the spoliation, and the whole terminates in the gratification of private rapacity.

It was not, however, easy to obtain such perpetual access to the minister, and at the same time escape from the watchful. Archbishop Williams, the lord keeper, got sufficient hints from the king; and in a tedious conference with the duke, he wished to convince him that Preston had only offered him "flitten milk, out of which he should churn nothing!" The duke was, however, smitten by the new project, and made a remarkable answer: "You lose yourself in generalities: make it out to me, in particular, if you can, that the motion you pick at will find repulse, and be baffled in the House of Commons. I know not how you bishops may struggle, but I am much deluded if a great part of the knights and burgesses would not be glad to see this alteration." We are told on this, that Archbishop Williams took out a list of the members of the House of Commons, and convinced the minister that an overwhelming majority would oppose this projected revolution, and that in consequence the duke gave it up.

But this anterior decision of the duke may be doubtful, since Preston still retained the high favour of the minister, after the death of James. When James died at Theobalds, where Dr. Preston happened to be in attendance, he had the honour of returning to town in the new king's coach with the Duke of Buckingham. The doctor's servile adulation of the minister gave even great offence to the over-zealous puritans. That he was at length discarded is certain; but this was owing not to any deficient subserviency on the side of our politician, but to one of those unlucky circumstances which have often put an end to temporary political connexions, by enabling one party to discover what the other thinks of him.

I draw this curious fact from a manuscript narrative in the handwriting of the learned William Wotton. When the puritanic party foolishly became jealous of the man who seemed to be working at root and branch for their purposes, they addressed a letter to Preston, remonstrating with him for his servile attachment to the minister; on which he confidently returned an answer, assuring them that he was as fully convinced of the vileness and profligacy of the Duke of Buckingham's character as any man could be, but that there was no way to come at him but by the lowest flattery, and that it was necessary for the glory of God that such instruments should be made use of as could be had; and for that reason, and that alone, he showed that respect to the reigning favourite, and not for any real honour that he had for him. This letter proved fatal; some officious hand conveyed it to the duke! When Preston came, as usual, the duke took his opportunity of asking him what he had ever done to disoblige him, that he should describe him in such black characters to his own party? Preston, in amazement, denied the fact, and poured forth professions of honour and gratitude. The duke showed him his own letter. Dr. Preston instantaneously felt a political apoplexy; the labours of some years were lost in a single morning. The baffled politician was turned out of Wallingford House, never more to see the enraged minister! And from that moment Buckingham wholly abandoned the puritans, and cultivated the friendship of Laud. This happened soon after James the First's death. Wotton adds, "This story I had from one who was extremely well versed in the secret history of the time."[284]

FOOTNOTE:

[284] Wotton delivered this memorandum to the literary antiquary,
Thomas Baker; and Kennet transcribed it in his Manuscript
Collections. Lansdowne MSS. No. 932-88. The life of Dr. Preston, in
Chalmers's Biographical Dictionary, may be consulted with advantage.

SIR EDWARD COKE'S EXCEPTIONS AGAINST THE HIGH SHERIFF'S OATH.

A curious fact will show the revolutionary nature of human events, and the necessity of correcting our ancient statutes, which so frequently hold out punishments and penalties for objects which have long ceased to be criminal; as well as for persons against whom it would be barbarous to allow some unrepealed statute to operate.

When a political stratagem was practised by Charles the First to keep certain members out of the House of Commons, by pricking them down as sheriffs in their different counties, among them was the celebrated Sir Edward Coke, whom the government had made High Sheriff for Bucks. It was necessary, perhaps, to be a learned and practised lawyer to discover the means he took, in the height of his resentment, to elude the insult. This great lawyer, who himself, perhaps, had often administered the oath to the sheriffs, which had, century after century, been usual for them to take, to the surprise of all persons drew up Exceptions against the Sheriff's Oath, declaring that no one could take it. Coke sent his Exceptions to the attorney-general, who, by an immediate order in council, submitted them to "all the judges of England." Our legal luminary had condescended only to some ingenious cavilling in three of his exceptions; but the fourth was of a nature which could not be overcome. All the judges of England assented, and declared, that there was one part of this ancient oath which was perfectly irreligious, and must ever hereafter be left out! This article was, "That you shall do all your pain and diligence to destroy and make to cease all manner of heresies, commonly called _Lollaries_, within your bailiwick, &c."[285] The Lollards were the most ancient of protestants, and had practised Luther's sentiments; it was, in fact, condemning the established religion of the country! An order was issued from Hampton Court, for the abrogation of this part of the oath; and at present all high sheriffs owe this obligation to the resentment of Sir Edward Coke, for having been pricked down as Sheriff of Bucks, to be kept out of parliament! The merit of having the oath changed, _instanter_, he was allowed; but he was not excused taking it, after it was accommodated to the conscientious and lynx-eyed detection of our enraged lawyer.

FOOTNOTE:

[285] Rushworth's Historical Collections, vol. i. p. 199.

SECRET HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST AND HIS FIRST PARLIAMENTS.

The reign of Charles the First, succeeded by the Commonwealth of England, forms a period unparalleled by any preceding one in the annals of mankind. It was for the English nation the great result of all former attempts to ascertain and to secure the just freedom of the subject. The prerogative of the sovereign and the rights of the people were often imagined to be mutual encroachments, and were long involved in contradiction, in an age of unsettled opinions and disputed principles. At length the conflicting parties of monarchy and democracy, in the weakness of their passions, discovered how much each required the other for its protector. This age offers the finest speculations in human nature; it opens a protracted scene of glory and of infamy; all that elevates, and all that humiliates our kind, wrestling together, and expiring in a career of glorious deeds, of revolting crimes, and even of ludicrous infirmities!

The French Revolution is the commentary of the English; and a commentary at times more important than the text which it elucidates. It has thrown a freshness over the antiquity of our own history; and, on returning to it, we seem to possess the feelings, and to be agitated by the interests, of contemporaries. The circumstances and the persons which so many imagine had passed away, have been reproduced under our own eyes. In other histories we accept the knowledge of the characters and the incidents on the evidence of the historian; but here we may take them from our own conviction, since to extinct names and to past events we can apply the reality which we ourselves have witnessed.

Charles the First had scarcely ascended the throne ere he discovered that in his new parliament he was married to a sullen bride: the youthful monarch, with the impatience of a lover, warm with hope and glory, was ungraciously repulsed even in the first favours! The prediction of his father remained, like the handwriting on the wall; but, seated on the throne, Hope was more congenial to youth than Prophecy.

As soon as Charles the First could assemble a parliament, he addressed them with an earnestness, in which the simplicity of words and thoughts strongly contrasted with the oratorical harangues of the late monarch. It cannot be alleged against Charles the First, that he preceded the parliament in the war of words. He courted their affections; and even in this manner of reception, amidst the dignity of the regal office, studiously showed his exterior respect by the marked solemnity of their first meeting. As yet uncrowned, on the day on which he first addressed the Lords and Commons, he wore his crown, and vailed it at the opening, and on the close of his speech; a circumstance to which the parliament had not been accustomed. Another ceremony gave still greater solemnity to the meeting; the king would not enter into business till they had united in prayer. He commanded the doors to be closed, and a bishop to perform the office. The suddenness of this unexpected command disconcerted the catholic lords, of whom the less rigid knelt, and the moderate stood: there was one startled papist who did nothing but cross himself![286]

The speech may be found in Rushworth; the friendly tone must be shown here.

I hope that you do remember that you were pleased to employ me to
advise my father to break off the treaties (with Spain). I came into
this business willingly and freely, like a young man, and
consequently rashly; but it was by your interest--your engagement. I
pray you to remember, that this being my _first action_, and begun by
_your advice and entreaty_, what a great dishonour it were to you and
me that it should fail for that assistance you are able to give me!

This effusion excited no sympathy in the house. They voted not a seventh part of the expenditure necessary to proceed with a war, into which, as a popular measure, they themselves had forced the king.

At Oxford the king again reminded them that he was engaged in a war "from their desires and advice." He expresses his disappointment at their insufficient grant, "far short to set forth the navy now preparing." The speech preserves the same simplicity.

Still no echo of kindness responded in the house. It was, however, asserted, in a vague and quibbling manner, that "though a former parliament did engage the king in a war, yet, (if things were managed by a contrary design, and the treasure misemployed) _this parliament is not bound by another parliament_:" and they added a cruel mockery, "that the king should help the cause of the Palatinate with _his own_ _money_!"--this foolish war, which James and Charles had so long borne their reproaches for having avoided as hopeless, but which the puritanic party, as well as others, had continually urged as necessary for the maintenance of the protestant cause in Europe.

Still no supplies! but protestations of duty, and petitions about grievances, which it had been difficult to specify. In their "Declaration" they style his Majesty "Our dear and dread sovereign," and themselves "his poor Commons:" but they concede no point--they offer no aid! The king was not yet disposed to quarrel, though he had in vain pressed for dispatch of business, lest the season should be lost for the navy; again reminding them, that "it was the _first request_ that he ever made unto them!" On the pretence of the plague at Oxford, Charles prorogued parliament, with a promise to reassemble in the winter.

There were a few whose hearts had still a pulse to vibrate with the distresses of a youthful monarch, perplexed by a war which they themselves had raised. But others, of a more republican complexion, rejected "_Necessity_, as a dangerous counsellor, which would be always furnishing arguments for supplies. If the king was in danger and necessity, those ought to answer for it who have put both king and kingdom into this peril: and if the state of things would not admit a redress of grievances, there cannot be so much _necessity for money_."

The first parliament abandoned the king!

Charles now had no other means to despatch the army and fleet, in a bad season, but by borrowing money on privy seals: these were letters, where the loan exacted was as small as the style was humble. They specified, "that this loan, without inconvenience to any, is only intended for the service of the public. Such private helps for public services which cannot be deferred," the king premises, had been often resorted to; but this "being the _first time_ that we have required anything in this kind, we require but _that sum which few men would deny a friend_." As far as I can discover, the highest sum assessed from great personages was twenty pounds! The king was willing to suffer any mortification, even that of a charitable solicitation, rather than endure the obdurate insults of parliament! All donations were received, from ten pounds to five shillings: this was the mockery of an alms-basket! Yet with contributions and savings so trivial, and exacted with such a warm appeal to their feelings, was the king to send out a fleet with ten thousand men--to take Cadiz!

This expedition, like so many similar attempts from the days of Charles the First to those of the great Lord Chatham, and to our own--concluded in a nullity! Charles, disappointed in this predatory attempt, in despair called his _second_ parliament--as he says, "in the midst of his necessities--and to learn from them how he was to frame his course and counsels."

The Commons, as duteously as ever, profess that "No king was ever dearer to his people, and that they really intend to assist his majesty in such a way as may make him safe at home and feared abroad"--but it was to be on condition that he would be graciously pleased to accept "the information and advice of parliament in discovering the causes of the great evils, and redress their grievances." The king accepted this "as a satisfactory answer;" but Charles comprehended their drift--"You specially aim at the Duke of Buckingham; what he hath done to change your minds I wot not." The style of the king now first betrays angered feelings; the secret cause of the uncomplying conduct of the Commons was hatred of the favourite--but the king saw that they designed to control the executive government, and he could ascribe their antipathy to Buckingham but to the capriciousness of popular favour; for not long ago he had heard Buckingham hailed as "their saviour." In the zeal and firmness of his affections, Charles always considered that he himself was aimed at in the person of his confidant, his companion, and his minister!