h4mimifwtm^saB. 
 
 LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 BX 9339 .A6 S7 
 
 
 Stanford, Charles, 
 
 1823- 
 
 1886. 
 
 
 Joseph Alleine 
 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 Princeton Theological Seminary Library 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/josephalleinehisOOstan 
 

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 Joseph Alleine : 
 
 HIS COMPANIONS & TIMES; 
 
 A Memorial of 
 
 "Blacft 20arti)Dlometo;* 1662 
 
 By Charles Stanford. 
 
 " O, sit anima mea cum Purltanis Angllcanis!" — Erasmus. 
 
 JACKSON, WALFORD, AND HODDER, 
 
 ST. PAULS CHURCHTARD. 
 
2Lnt\)0X'S j&reface. 
 
 '^t^M^.'^ 
 
 HE following work is an attempt to 
 
 bring into notice some of our 
 
 Ji, early Nonconformist worthies, the 
 story of whose life-long sufferings for truth 
 and duty is now almost unknown. It pro- 
 fesses to be a book of" Obscure Martyrs." 
 True it is, that the chief hero, 'Joseph Alleine, 
 was well known in his own times, but even 
 then he was obscure in comparison with many 
 in the constellation of eminent men around 
 him. 
 
 With prophet - like solemnity, Richard 
 
IV AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 Baxter says : — " Let posterity know, that 
 though this servant oi Christ was exalted above 
 very many of his brethren, yet it is not that such 
 men are wonders in this age that his life is 
 singled out to be recorded." The " Life," in 
 the introdudlion to which these words occur, 
 was first published in 1672. It includes a 
 narrative, twenty-five pages long, written by 
 his widow; several essays, like prose elegies, 
 contributed by his friends ; and also forty of 
 his letters. Only a few fadis are related, and 
 although the volumes spread the fame of his 
 worth, it still left much of his life in ob- 
 scurity. 
 
 In our own day, " 'Joseph A Heine " is little 
 more than a name ; — a name that stands on 
 the title-page of an old book, called, "An 
 Alarm to the Unconverted ;" — a dead 
 name, without substance, personality, or his- 
 tory. Still less is known of his companions, 
 for, generally speaking, their very names have 
 faded out of remembrance. 
 
 It has been said by some of my friends, 
 that the life of some great Nonconformist 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 leader would have been a more attradlive 
 subjedl than that which has here been selected. 
 But we are already well acquainted with 
 Baxter, Owen, Howe, "John Bunyan, and men 
 who in the same day had similar influence. 
 Accounts of them have been so often and so 
 ably recorded, that little more remains to 
 be told. My preference has been decided 
 in favour of Alleine and his companions, 
 because I venture to think that most of 
 the information now offered respefting 
 them is important ; and that also, to most 
 of my readers, it will be new. Important, I 
 am sure it is. To know the heroic age of 
 Nonconformity correctly and completely, we 
 must not only know the men who were 
 then influential from commanding genius 
 and station, but we should know something 
 of the average ministers and the provincial 
 congregations. You are invited to live with 
 one of those ministers ; to study his principles, 
 and the various influences which tended to fix 
 and try them ; to look on some of those 
 external things to which his mind owed its 
 
VI AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 formation and its /^formation ; to be intro- 
 duced to some of the men and women whom 
 he met in his daily walks and country labours ; 
 and to follow him, in thought, both to prison 
 and to death. As you thus accompany him, 
 you are invited to watch, all the way along, 
 the development of the events which led to 
 the A(ft of Uniformity, and then to observe 
 that Adi in its operation. 
 
 This is my plan ; and although it has been 
 very imperfe(flly realised, I hope some good 
 will be effedled by the attempt to carry it 
 out. I address more especially the younger 
 members of our congregations, and if they are 
 led to examine afresh the reasons of Noncon- 
 formity, to search into some of its historical 
 
 I connexions, and above all to emulate the holy 
 lives of its earlier confessors, my principal 
 
 i objed will be gained. At the present time, 
 having nearly reached the second centenary 
 of the year when the peculiar sufferings of 
 our ancestors began, and when their good 
 confession was made, it becomes us all to 
 renew our attention to the truths for which 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. yil 
 
 they suffered, and also to renew our praise to 
 Him, who, through the growing ascendancy of 
 those truths, has permitted us to see the day 
 of Uberty which they desired to see but saw 
 not. "They that are delivered from the 
 noise of archers in the places of drawing 
 water, there shall they rehearse the righteous 
 adls of the Lord, even the righteous adls 
 towards the inhabitants of his villages in 
 Israel." 
 
 My cordial acknowledgments are due to 
 the various friends who have kindly answered 
 my inquiries and contributed to my materials ; 
 but chiefly to my friend James Waylen, Esq,, 
 of Etchilhampton, near Devizes, who first 
 suggested the idea of undertaking the work, 
 and who has ever been ready to help me with 
 the results of his extensive reading and minute 
 antiquarian research. For courteous permis- 
 sion to see books and papers, in Dr. Williams's 
 library most especially, also in the library of 
 the Guildhall, in that of the London Medical 
 Society, in that of the Society of Friends at 
 Devonshire House, in that of Sion College, 
 
Vlll AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 and in that of the Baptist College^ Bristol^ the 
 Trustees and Librarians will be pleased to 
 accept my best thanks. 
 
 Charles Stanford, 
 
 Cambernuell, 06lober, 1861. 
 
 ^ 
 
chapter I. 
 
 3IO0epF) aueine*s #atber. 
 
 H'^as I not borne of aide •zvorthie linage P''^ 
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 N the course of searching for lost fadls 
 in the life of Joseph Alleine, a few par- 
 ticulars have come to light in relation to 
 his father, worthy Mr. Tobie Alleine, of 
 Devizes. Slight and disconneded as they are, it 
 would be a pity to let them vanish into darkness 
 again ; they are therefore now for the first time 
 presented, and all the more readily, because a notice 
 of them will involve some historic statements which 
 may prepare us to estimate the fafts given in the 
 following chapters. 
 
 Some old writers on heraldry seem to think that 
 the father of all the Alleines in England, or, at 
 least, of all whose families have been longest esta- 
 blished in the counties where they live, was Alan, 
 lord of Buckenhall, in the reign of the first Edward; 
 
 B 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 
 
 Stopped under the glimmer of the trees in the market- 
 place to chat with him about the good old times. 
 
 Many allusions to him occur in the ancient 
 municipal documents. In 1636, and subsequently, 
 he stands as sponsor for the due appearance and 
 equipment of a musketeer in the town train-bands. 
 At a later period, mention is made of ^300 (about 
 jC J 000 in present value), which he lends the borough 
 authorities to relieve the straits occasioned by the 
 wars. For many years his name is written first in 
 the list of majores or "capital burgesses" of the 
 common-council; — these, and similar notices, seem 
 to certify that he was a man of public spirit, that 
 he held a respedled but unpretending station in 
 society, and that as to his circumstances, he had 
 neither poverty nor riches.* 
 
 He does not appear in the gentry lists of 
 Wilts for the year 1623, though his family had 
 always been thus reported before. t The omission 
 in his instance was only remarkable because, trades- 
 man as he was, he might have been supposed to 
 have some claim to the honours of gentle birth ; 
 and so eager were the heralds to obtain twenty-five 
 
 * My best thanks are due to Alexander Meek, Esq., town-clerk 
 of Devizes, for permitting Mr. Waylen and myself to examine the 
 borough records for these and other accounts. 
 
 -j- It will be seen by a comparison of the documents in the British 
 Museum, that, although the book for 1623 does contain a pedigre^ 
 of the Wiltshire AUelnes, it issimply copied, without additions, from 
 that of 1565. 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINE'S FATHER. 
 
 shillings, the annual tax for being " a gentleman," 
 that they often returned a tradesman under this 
 title, even if he had no such claim. In such a case 
 the vi(5lim was compelled either to pay the amount, 
 or to make a declaration like this : " A. B. hath 
 this day appeared before me, Clarencieux king-at- 
 arms, and taketh oath that he is no gentleman'' 
 This declaration, so trying for human nature to 
 make, was adlually made by a smart young yeoman 
 of Alleine's acquaintance, and we can readily imagine 
 the burst of broad Wiltshire sympathy that greeted 
 his next appearance amongst his brethren at Devizes. 
 We shall be forgiven for recording these small 
 instances of honour withheld where honour was due, 
 and obtruded where it was not, as affording a curious 
 glimpse of the times in which even the honours of 
 chivalry, from the highest to the lowest, were bought 
 and sold to pay the debts of an exhausted Exchequer 
 and profligate Court.* 
 
 We must now hasten to set down fa6ts of greater 
 interest. 
 
 " Kind hearts are more than coronets, 
 And simple faith than Norman blood," 
 
 His was a higher rank than any that Camden 
 could attest by reference to a brass on the cathedral 
 pavement, or to a richly blazoned family tree. We 
 
 * Speech of Sir Francis Seymour, M.P. for Marlborough, com- 
 plaining of the abuse of the heralds in the course of the Wiltshire 
 Visitation. — Journal of House of Commons, 1624. 
 
/ 
 
 JOSEPH ALLEmE'S FATHER. 
 
 may style him " a good knight of Jesus Christ." * 
 One who knew him well, asserts that he was " an 
 understanding, affedlionate, prudent, and signally 
 humble and experienced Christian."! Various 
 witnesses give evidence that he was a Puritan, and 
 that like his son he gloried in the name. 
 
 The distin6live principle of a true Puritan was 
 reverence for the stri<5l letter of Holy Scripture, as 
 God's dire6t message to each individual man, and 
 as forming our final and absolute authority in religion. 
 Of course, as the immediate and most conspicuous 
 expression of his creed, the Puritan was a Protestant. 
 What has been called the severe Scripturism of 
 Puritanism stood in steadfast protest against the 
 principle which reaches its culminating intensity in 
 the church of Rome — the principle of combining 
 with Scripture the traditional exposition of its 
 announcements as preserved in the decisions of 
 Christian antiquity. What has been called the 
 intense personality of Puritanism stood in equally 
 steadfast protest against that theory of a church 
 which also reached its highest development under 
 the Papacy — the theory which regards the church as 
 a mother, endowed with changeless attributes, pre- 
 serving a mysterious life through all ages, untouched 
 by the acftual condud: and opinions of the individuals 
 who, in their aggregate, are personified under her 
 
 * Old English translation of 2 Tim.il. 3. f Richard Alleine, M.A. 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINE-S FATHER. 
 
 name, and wielding a power so great that salvation 
 Itself should be spoken of as If wrought, not alone 
 by one redeeming Person, but also by this redeeming 
 Personification. In consistency with these religious 
 dodrlnes, and as their vital result, the Puritans were 
 also the foremost advocates of political liberty. 
 
 We are chiefly acquainted with them through 
 their ministers, and we therefore look upon Mr. 
 Alleine with peculiar interest as a fair type of 
 another class, which has had few biographers, 
 although it exercised an influence almost equally 
 important, In its rule over the religious changes of 
 the times — the class of average Puritan laymen. 
 Living in an age when the Court and Court-pre- 
 lates were attempting to put down dodlrinal preach- 
 ing, and to give a stronger papistical tindure to 
 the rubric of the church, he differed in opinion 
 from these fashionable ecclesiastics, as to the two 
 great questions, " What is the Gospel ? " and 
 " How should the Gospel be administered .?" When, 
 in 1662, dire(5lions were issued to the efl^ed "that 
 no preacher under a bishop or a dean should pre- 
 sume to preach in any popular auditory on the 
 deep points of predestination, eledlion, or reproba- 
 tion ; or of the universality, efiicacy, resistibility 
 or irresistibility of Divine grace," * he was one 
 
 uni- 
 
 Dlreftions from the King to the Archbishop, to be comin 
 cated to all the clergy in his province. Windsor, August 10, 1 632 
 
8 JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 
 
 \ who said, " Is our minister forbidden by law to 
 1 preach the efficacy of divine grace ? Then, man 
 makes that the forbidden fruit which God makes 
 I the tree of hfe !" When the bishops began to 
 ' apologize for images in churches, for confession to 
 a priest, for sacerdotal absolution, for bowing at 
 the altar, for the dodlrine of transubstantiation, 
 which they declared was a school nicety, and for 
 the theory that the Lord's Supper should be 
 regarded not only as a sacrament, but as a sacri- 
 fice, — he, like many another Puritan lavman, made 
 no secret of his indignation. 
 
 Perhaps If you saw some of the thoughts on 
 this subje6t expressed In Mr. Tobie Alleine's 
 memoranda, and could have overheard the strong 
 words spoken by him In the company of his friends, 
 your first Impression might be that he magnified the 
 evil Importance of the ceremonies Laud was aiming 
 to revive, and allowed them to inspire him with 
 too deep a fear of returning Popery. But if you 
 could look through the mist of more than two 
 centuries, and see, as he did, the adlual men and 
 women of that day, with all their living opinions 
 and emotions — if you could know with a power of 
 eager realization how Ignorant they were, how 
 ready to follow the religion of those who made the 
 laws, and how very little the recent and short 
 ascendency of Protestantism had as yet served to 
 disperse the darkness induced by the ancient and 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINE'S FATHER. 
 
 long ascendency of Romanism — you would 
 qualify your first opinion. He saw the people 
 sunk in superstition. Most of the countrymen 
 with whom he transa6led business came from dis- 
 tricts infested with witches ; in their journey over 
 the downs they had been in peril from fairies ; 
 and in those dreary solitudes more than one had at 
 times seen unearthly sights, or heard bursts of 
 mysterious music. Night and morning, in going 
 out and coming in, in bringing the sheep from the 
 fold or the wool to the market, it was common for 
 them to appeal to the tutelar saints of their respec- 
 tive parish churches. " Good Saint Catherine, 
 stay my oxen !" would a farmer cry, when in 
 chase of his straying cattle. The drover prayed 
 to Saint Anthony. As the pack-horses came 
 sliding and stumbling with obstreperous jingle down 
 the chalk hill-side, the men in charge would invoke 
 the aid of Saint Loy. Not only did they appeal to 
 dead saints, but to graven images. In 1631, 
 Mr. Sherfield, a gentleman with whom Alleine was 
 acquainted, having long observed " many people" 
 pause and bow before a window in his parish church 
 at Salisbury, asked them why they did so. " Be- 
 cause the Lord our God is there," was the reply. 
 On looking more closely into the glass, " all 
 diamonded with quaint device," he found that it 
 contained seven representations of God the Father, 
 in the form of a little old man with a blue and red 
 
lO JOSEPH ALLEINKSFAriiER. 
 
 coat, with a pouch at his side.* This was the 
 diocese which had so long been illumined with the 
 presidency of men hke Jewell and Davenant ; and 
 if here so much ignorance prevailed, how great 
 would be the darkness elsewhere ! 
 
 If, by the due consideration of fads like these, 
 we could acquire power to stand in the place and 
 see with the eyes of a man like Mr. Alleine, we 
 should discover a spiritual meaning and dignity in 
 many of the opinions held by him and his brother 
 Puritans, which may now seem like the mere 
 crotchets of morbid scrupulosity. " The surplice 
 was the recognized symbol of the priestly charadler, 
 and might have a tendency to recal the dodrine of 
 a merely human intercessor standing between God 
 and man. The cross in baptism, and the conse- 
 crated font, might, they said, easily bring back 
 with them -the exorcisms accompanying the rite of 
 baptism in Roman Catholic churches. The observ- 
 ance of saint's days might suggest the adoration 
 held to be due to those saints. Kneeling at the 
 communion had its tacit reference to the conversion 
 of the consecrated wafer. To retain these ceremonies, 
 it was agreed, even were they innocent in themselves, 
 was extremely dangerous in the English church, 
 which had so recently emerged from Romanism. j- 
 
 * Rushworth\s CoUeftions, vol. li., p. 153. 
 
 f J. L. Sanford's Studies of the Great Rebellion, p. 67. 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINES FATHER. I I 
 
 While the superstitions to which allusion has 
 been made, showed how sensitive the poorer people 
 were to the enchantments of Popery, other fa6ls 
 served to keep Mr. Alleine in mind of its per- 
 secuting vengeance. In his boyhood, old men 
 sat In the sun who could remember the dying faces 
 of martyrs, and who had told him thrilling things 
 in the story of their own fathers, who had 'Splayed 
 the man in the fire" at Salisbury ; and now, the 
 crushing tyranny of the church in her courts, her 
 frowns on free thought, and the fervour with 
 which, in the language of the scourge, the 
 pillory and the branding iron, she asserted the 
 religiousness of vestments, of attitudes, of signs, 
 and of a particular quarter in the sky, naturally 
 suggested the fear that scenes like those of the 
 Marian persecution might open again. Perhaps it 
 is not surprising that the church as thus repre- 
 sented should have alarmed rather, than attradled 
 such a man ; certainly this is not so wonderful as 
 the fad; that all this time, only a few miles off, 
 a bard of such celestial inspiration as George 
 Herbert, should have thus been singing in her 
 praise : — 
 
 " I joy, dear mother, when I view 
 Thy perfeft lineaments and hue 
 
 Both sweet and bright : 
 Beauty in thee takes up her place, 
 And dates her letters from thy face, 
 
 When she doth write," 
 
I 2 JOSEPH ALLEINE'S FATHER. 
 
 It was long thought by most persons, and is 
 still thought by many, that the period of eccle- 
 siastical history which came just before the great 
 Puritan revolution, was a kind of golden age — the age 
 out of whose life we must fetch our highest types 
 of priestly excellence, and our fairest ideal pi(5tures 
 of a Christian people. And, indeed, this must 
 be true, if we are to accept as true the wonders 
 told of the desolation wrought by the later Puri- 
 tanism. All the learning and eloquence, sanftity 
 and grace which that Puritanism swept away, must 
 have flourished then or never ; for, however black 
 and stormy Puritan barbarities were, their first 
 stroke could not have crossed over the age in which 
 they existed, to light on a distant century. The 
 truth is, that most of that ignorance of the people 
 which we have been describing, arose from the 
 incompetency of their spiritual guides,* and es- 
 pecially from the want of a " preaching ministry." 
 Within the memory of man, the sovereign had 
 said, *' It is good for the world to have few 
 preachers — three or four may suffice for a county, 
 and the reading of the homilies is enough." For 
 
 * This is contrary to the commonly received doctrine. See, 
 for instance, some curious remarks in the Introdu61ion to Stephens's 
 Notes, legal and historical, on the Book of Common Prayer. — 
 Ecclesiastical History Society. The writer says : — " The episcopal 
 clergy of that day were equally eminent for their learning and 
 exemplary character as those of the present day." 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 1 3 
 
 a few years, at the beginning of the century, there 
 had been a revival in this and other agencies of 
 pubhc instruction and refinement, but now there 
 was a mournful decline. The calm-judging Selden, 
 speaking of the clergy, says, " they were ignorant 
 and indolent, and had nothing to support their 
 credit but beard, title, and habit."* Milton, in 
 " Lycidas," utters a similar complaint.f Richard 
 Baxter, writing of Shropshire in the days of his 
 boyhood — that is, about 1620, and ten years after — 
 says, " There was little preaching of any kind, and 
 that little was rather calculated to injure than to 
 benefit. In High Ercall, there were four readers 
 in the course of six years ; all of them ignorant, 
 and two of them immoral men. At Eaton Con- 
 stantine, there was a reader of eighty years of age, 
 Sir William Rogers, who never preached ; yet 
 he had two livings, twenty miles apart from each 
 other. His sight failing, he repeated the prayers 
 without the book ; but to read the lessons, he 
 employed a common labourer one year, a tailor 
 another, and at last his own son, the best stage- 
 player and gamester in all the county, got orders, 
 and supplied one of his places. Within a few 
 miles round were nearly a dozen ministers of the 
 same description : poor, ignorant readers, and most 
 
 History of Tithes, preface, p. i., 1 6 1 8 . 
 t 1637. 
 
1 4 JOSEPH ALLEINrS FATHER. 
 
 of them of dissolute lives."* George Withers also 
 remarks respedling such unprofitable servants, — 
 
 " In their poverty they will not stick 
 For catechising, visiting the sick, 
 With such-like duteous works of piety 
 As do belong to their society ; 
 But if they once but reach a vicarage. 
 Or be indufted to some parsonage, 
 Men must content themselves, and think it well 
 If once a month they hear the sermon bell."-t- 
 
 Such was the rule, and it is of the rule we now are 
 speaking, not of a few brilliant exceptions. Every 
 step was taken by the higher priests to discourage 
 preaching, and every proof was given by the lower 
 ones of readiness to acquiesce. 
 
 The Puritans endeavoured to find a remedy for 
 this evil by supporting leSfurers — clergymen, 
 who, having obtained the necessary licence, were 
 supported by special subscriptions, or by funds 
 obtained through the purchase of lay-impropriations, 
 and then employed merely as preachers. Mer- 
 chants and tradesmen who lived in London were 
 accustomed to consult and subscribe for the settle- 
 ment or occasional service of lecturers in the towns 
 and villages of their native county, where there 
 appeared to be a deficiency in the ordinary clerical 
 
 * Orme's Life of Baxter, vol. ii., p. 3. Fuller, sub anno 1630. 
 Rushworth, vol. i., part 2, p. 150. 
 f Britaine's Remembrancer, 1628. 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINES FATHER. I ^ 
 
 means.* In other cases, such ledlurers were 
 mahitained by the zeal of resident friends. They 
 had no local charge, and their sole vocation was 
 preaching. The pulpit of St. John's was then 
 provided for by the town authorities, the minister 
 was under their patronage, and was almost entirely 
 supported by free contributions. f It is curious to 
 see, from their old records, the vigorous use they 
 made of their rights in inviting lefturers. In the 
 course of the twenty years immediately preceding 
 the Prote(5torate, very many were the lecturers 
 engaged by the corporation to preach at ordinary 
 and extraordinary times, and we may trace much 
 of this work to the quiet energy of Mr. Tobie 
 Alleine.J 
 
 One of his friends, who was always a cordial 
 helper in work like this, was the worshipful Master 
 John Kent, the aged town-clerk,§ and also member 
 of parliament for the borough, for which service, 
 during the time occupied, he received, according to 
 ancient usage, the sum of two shillings a day. 
 
 * Account of Clerical Customs in 1630, additional MSS., 4460, 
 f. 80. Social History of the Southern Counties, by George Roberts, 
 Chapter on Lefturers. 
 
 f So stated in a petition from Devizes to Parliament against a pro- 
 posal forsettling on Mr. Henry Johnson, minister, the sum of ^^loo 
 per annum, out of the lands and stock of the borough. — State 
 Papers, 1660. 
 
 \ Devizes chamberlain's books, and other memoranda. 
 
 § Mr. Justice Kent's Ledger Book is in the Lansdown MSS., 231 
 
I 6 JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 
 
 You may see his effigy — solemn with ruff and 
 robe, and hands clasped as in prayer — in the chancel 
 of St. John's Church. According to the Latin 
 epitaph there, he was " a man of fervent piety 
 towards God, who so obtained the calm of an 
 untroubled conscience, that he might be said to 
 have anticipated the bliss of heaven."* These 
 worthies often exchanged formal compliments and 
 quaint courtesies, and held many a grave conference 
 about Church and State. Like other keen watchers 
 of events, they hardly knew whether they could 
 see in these events the beginnings of a new day for 
 Romanism, or the dismal dawn of civil war. It 
 was only certain that some disastrous crisis was 
 at hand. 
 
 A ray of sober merriment sometimes shot through 
 their gloomiest conversation. One day, Nathaniel 
 Stephens, a young Oxford student, said to have 
 been related to Mr. Kent, came in with a story 
 which he thus drily told : — 
 
 **A clergyman entering the church," (perhaps 
 his father's church at the neighbouring village of 
 Stanton Bernard,) " went up to the chancel to bow 
 to the altar. It so happened that there was no altar 
 there, but the communion table stood against the 
 east wall, and a boy sat upon it. The boy, seeing 
 
 * He died in 1630. The epitaph was probably written by his 
 grandson. Dr. Philip Stephens, president of Hart Hall, Oxford, and 
 who was ejefted for Nonconformity in 1662. 
 
JOSEPH ALLE INK'S FATHER. I y 
 
 the priest coming towards him, shpt down and stood 
 before the table. At length the priest made a low 
 bow, and the poor boy thinking it was to him the 
 resped: was paid, bowed as low to him again ; and 
 the bows were repeated three times on each side ; 
 the boy being surprised at the priest's wonderful 
 civilitie." 
 
 Many years after this, when, according to George 
 Fox, the relater of this anecdote had become " one 
 of Baal's priests, and preached in Drayton Steeple- 
 house," he used to finish the tale with a few solemn 
 words of application, sounding very much like the 
 echo of what might have been said about it by the 
 elders to whom he related it first. '* In this case," he 
 would say, " the boy knew well enough who it was 
 he bowed to, but whether or not it was so as to 
 the priest, it is questionable ; for the God whom 
 Christians worship is no more in the east than in the 
 west — no more in the chancel than in the church — 
 nor any more there than in the house or in the field; 
 unless when His people are there * worshipping 
 him in spirit and in truth.' Before the coming of 
 Christ it was the duty of the Jews in the western 1 
 parts to worship towards the east, because Jerusalem 
 and the Temple stood that way. (i Kings viii. 48 ; 
 Dan. vi. 10.) This might be the reason why some 
 Christians in the primitive times took up the fashion 
 of praying towards the east. They Judaized in 
 that as well as in some other things. But now 
 
 c 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 
 
 Mount Zion is no more holy than Mount Gerizim, 
 or the mountains in Wales." * 
 
 The matters which suggested talk like this, and 
 which seemed in one way or other to become the 
 theme of every conversation between thinking men, 
 grew in pradlical importance every day. The 
 spirit of the rival parties became terribly earnest. 
 At last the sword flashed out, and the land rang 
 with war. When the Cavalier, fired with loyalty for 
 the person of the King, set up his standard, "in- 
 voking every eye for its glance and every tongue 
 for its prayer ;" and the Puritan, fired with equal 
 loyalty for principles which he thought involved in 
 the office of the King, set up another standard of 
 defiance, greater interests were at stake than those 
 of politics. Events showed that those seers were 
 right who had predifted that the only alternative 
 for the country would be a fight for freedom, or a 
 return to Popery and arbitrary power. Say, if you 
 please, that the Puritans dwelt upon the evils of 
 Popery with an emphasis that was injurious and out 
 of place, and that no grounds existed for their 
 apprehensions of its return. The Pope himself 
 formed no such low estimate of their political saga- 
 city ; and we may remark in passing, as an evidence 
 of the light in which he regarded the war, that a 
 Bull of his was intercepted and sent up to Parliament, 
 
 * Nonconformist's Memorial. 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 1 9 
 
 promising canonization to those Catholics who fell 
 on the side of the King — a mark-worthy fad which 
 has not found its way into any of our histories.* 
 
 In the storm of war, Mr. Alleine, like thousands 
 of his countrymen, suffered greatly in trade and 
 estate. The Chamberlain's accounts for 1647 re- 
 cord the discharge of Tobias Alleine, Gent., ''from 
 the bond to pay a rent to the corporation for taking 
 ' the tolls of the beams and scales,' on the ground 
 that, owing to the late unnatural wars, the markets 
 were unfrequented, rendering him unable, in con- 
 sequence, to make up his rent out of the profits."t 
 From this time we gradually lose sight of him, and 
 by 1650 his name entirely disappears from the 
 burgess lists. He had not yet, however, retired 
 into absolute obscurity ; for in the Bodleian Library, 
 bound up with a volume of pamphlets, we find a 
 list of Wiltshire Triers of ministers, which contains 
 his name. The list itself is undated, but if the 
 Triers reported there are those appointed by Crom- 
 well's commission, the date of the appointment must 
 have been about 1654 ; showing that he had not by 
 that time ceased to be a man having authority. In 
 this capacity he was associated with thirteen ministers, 
 and sundry country gentlemen, among whom were 
 Sir Edward Hungerford, Sir Edward Baynton, 
 
 * Commons' Journals, vol. Hi., pp. 257, 264. 
 f Burgus de Devizes, tempore Will. Thurnam, Maioris. 
 C 2 
 
20 JOSEPH ALLEINKS FATHER. 
 
 John Ffreme, a Devizes Baptist, and Serjeant 
 Robert Nicholas, who then represented the town in 
 Parhament.* 
 
 This is the last instance in which he appears in 
 any public service, for altered circumstances pre- 
 vented him from filling his former station. First, 
 from the wars, then from the penal enadments 
 against Nonconformists, he sunk into deeper and 
 yet deeper poverty. Troubles came crowding on 
 him, throng upon throng, and in his old age he 
 often had no home of his own. In 1666 he was 
 imprisoned for conscience sake, with his son Joseph; 
 and a letter is extant, dated from Ilchester Gaol, in 
 the postscript of wliich he sends his " tender re- 
 membrance " to the beloved people of Taunton, 
 and says, " I desire you to hold fast what you have 
 received and heard, and that you be holy, harmless, 
 exemplary, and without offence in the midst of a 
 crooked and perverse generation." 
 
 In June, 1667, "he died," it is said, " suddenly 
 but sweetly." On the morning of his death he rose 
 about four. About ten or eleven he came down 
 out of his closet and called for something to eat, 
 which being prepared he gave thanks, but could not 
 eat anything. His wife, perceiving a sudden change 
 in hijn, persuaded him to go to bed ; he answered. 
 
 * The date of the papers coUeflively is given outside the pamphlet 
 as 1658. 
 
JOSEPH ALLEINE-S FATHER. 21 
 
 " No, but I will die in my chair ; and I am not 
 afraid to die." He sat down, and only said, " My 
 life is hid with Christ in God ;" and then he closed 
 his eyes with his own hand, and died immediately.* 
 "Shut thine eyes a little, old man, and immediately 
 thou shalt see the light of God If" So it was said to 
 Ananias the martyr, as he knelt to lay his white 
 head upon the block ; and so it might have been 
 said to Mr. Tobie Alleine. 
 
 * Rev. R. Alleine. 
 
 f "Paulisper O senex, oculos claude ; nam statim lumen Dei 
 ndebis." — Sozomen, lib. ii., cap. ii. 
 
 ^ 
 
Chapter II. 
 strange ^c6oal0 anD ^cfjoolmaster^. 
 
 " The courser'' s neighing he could ken. 
 And measured tread of marching men — 
 
 The banners tall, of crimson sheen, 
 Abo've the copse appear j 
 
 And glistening through the ha-uuthorn green. 
 Shine helm, and shield, and spear. ^'' 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 OSEPH ALLEINE was born at 
 Devizes, early in the year 1634.* The 
 date of his birthday is lost, but his 
 baptism, according to the register of St, 
 John's Church, was on the 8th of April. He was 
 the fourth child in the family, and after him were 
 several others, including some whose narnes are 
 not re corded, f 
 
 * Late in the year 1633, if we reckon by the old style, which 
 supposed the year to begin on the 25th of March, and end on the 
 24th of March following. 
 
 f The following are the names of Mr. Alleine's children, with 
 the dates of their baptism as given in the register : — Edward, 1 3th 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 23 
 
 Our immediate aim will be to trace the earliest 
 processes of his education, and to show their earliest 
 effe6ls. Hugh Miller used to complain that with 
 most persons the word " schools " only called to 
 mind the idea of certain buildings devoted to 
 scholastic purposes, and that the word " school- 
 masters " only suggested the idea of certain men in 
 desks, teaching in those buildings. He thought 
 this was too narrow a meaning for such words, and 
 that its adoption led to too narrow a view of 
 education. Regarding the matured life of a man in 
 the light of a result ; in his opinion, every scene, 
 every event, and every friendship of childhood 
 contributing to that result, should be remembered 
 in the list of our "schools and schoolmasters." 
 This, therefore, was the title he selecfted for the 
 charming story of his own life. There, the first 
 school that he recognizes is that of parentage; 
 the next is that of surrounding local circumstances. 
 In studying the agencies that educed the character 
 of Joseph Alleine, we may with advantage adopt 
 these thoughts and in this order. The nature, in 
 his case, of the first-named class of educating 
 forces, may be inferred from what has already been 
 
 December, 1618 5 Toble, 15th January, 1 620-1 ; Elizabeth, 21st 
 February, 1626-7 j Joseph, 8th April, 1634; Lettice, 22nd Sep- 
 tember, 1635; Israel, 13th March, 1637-8; Mary, istjune, 1640. 
 After that, there is a long hiatus in the book. 
 
24 S-TRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 said of his father. The nature of the second now 
 remains to be described. 
 
 It should be remembered that the conflid: 
 between Charles and his Parliament had, by the 
 time of which this chapter treats, been transferred 
 from the House of Commons to the battle-field. 
 In no place, according to its measure, were the 
 consequences more severely felt than at Devizes. 
 Instead of opening in a dream of pleasant wonders, 
 Joseph Alleine's childhood was spent in the midst 
 of these alarms. 
 
 His father's house, with its white gables, striped 
 and flowered with dark wood-work, occupied the 
 site of that which now stands next the market- 
 house. Right before it, only just across the broad 
 way, half screened on one side by a ring of elm 
 trees that stood round a broken cross, rose the 
 great grey walls of the castle ; — its keep roofless, 
 and its outworks shattered into picturesque decay ; 
 but its general aspeft still sufficiently royal to show 
 why the monk, Matthew Paris, had called it " the 
 most magnificent castle in Christendom." Even in 
 its partial ruin it was deemed an important fortress. 
 Twice, at least, did the boy witness its siege and 
 the consequent change of its masters, before he was 
 twelve years old. 
 
 To the last, one of the most vividly lighted 
 scenes in his memory was that siege by Sir William 
 Waller, the obje6l of which was to recover the 
 
S-TRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 1^ 
 
 town from the Royalists, into whose power it 
 had recently fallen. The Issue of this experiment 
 was the famous battle of Roundway. 
 
 From the back of the house might be seen 
 over the roofs, the high, bare Wiltshire plains, 
 where they drop abruptly by a long line of undula- 
 ting slopes, into a rich valley of trees and pasturage. 
 Roundway is the name given to one of these 
 slopes, just above Devizes. The town is at the 
 highest part of the valley, and from the point 
 where the castle stood, the ground sinks away down 
 into a landscape, in which, to use the language of 
 a local poet, we may descry, 
 
 "Towns, villages, light smoke, 
 And scarce seen windmill sails, and devious woods, 
 Chequering 'mid sunshine the grass-level land, 
 That stretches from the sight."* 
 
 Looking up, early in the morning of the loth 
 of July, 1643, ^h^ child might have seen, 
 through the thin rain that was falling. Sir William 
 Waller's army of 5,500 men in slow motion over 
 the edge of the down. He and the little ones of the 
 family were hurried within doors. Presently, the 
 guns from the battery and the answering peals from 
 the castle shook the roof-tree, and flashed through 
 the chinks of his father's barred and shuttered 
 windows. Soon, he heard eager voices in the 
 
 * Rev. W. Lisle Bowles. 
 
26 STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 Street, telling the news that the besiegers had 
 captured large supplies of artillery that were on 
 their way to the town, and that now the garrison 
 would only be able to hold out for a few hours. 
 Shortly after that, he was at work with his mother 
 and sisters, in hot haste cutting down all the bed- 
 ropes and collecting all the cordage they could find, 
 to be boiled and beaten into match for the 
 musketeers. 
 
 Match was furnished by this expedient, suddenly 
 and conjointly adopted by all the good wives of the 
 town. Lead was torn from the church roofs to be 
 cast into bullets. Powder was unexpectedly con- 
 tributed by a townsman who had for some time 
 been storing it in a pit. Thus, supplies were found, 
 and the defence of the place was prolonged for 
 four days. Meanwhile, so early as Monday night, 
 the Marquis of Hartford had stolen away from the 
 castle, to obtain reinforcements from Oxford ; but 
 Waller, trusting that Essex would intercept them, 
 felt no anxiety. On Thursday, however, at about 
 four o'clock in the afternoon, the reinforcements 
 came. A formidable body of horsemen came 
 thundering over the sward, and attacked Waller 
 on Roundway, just as he was about by one last 
 stroke of desperate strength to take the town. 
 Without staying to relate the intricate history of 
 the engagement, it will be sufficient to say that the 
 army of the Parliament was put to flight, and the 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. T] 
 
 result of the day was seen in the fall of Bath, the fall 
 of Bristol, and the restoration for a time of the King's 
 ascendency in the west. The Royalists called it 
 the battle of " Run-away ;" Waller entered it 
 in his journal as a " fatherly chastisement."* 
 
 Take another scene from Joseph's childhood : — 
 On Sunday morning, the i8th of September, 
 1645, ^^ found that a battery of ten guns had been 
 construded in the night, just before his father's 
 house, and pointed towards the castle gates. 
 Standing on the green margin of the footway, only 
 a few paces from the porch, was a soldier, whose 
 rough, grand look of concentrated authority shot a 
 thrill through the young beholder, and compelled 
 the whisper, ''Who is he?" It was Oliver 
 Cromwell, who, as Lieutenant-General for the 
 Parliament, brought a final summons to the Gover- 
 nor to deliver up the place. There was an answer 
 of defiance. Clouds of arrows whizzed through 
 the air.t For two days and two nights, incessant 
 
 * Waller's Recollections. The histoiy of this battle is given 
 in Waylen's History of Devizes. 
 
 f In 1643, the Earl of Essex had issued a commission desiring 
 all well-afFe6led persons in and about the city of London to " bring 
 in bows and arrows, not doubting but that success will attend the 
 use of that honourable and ancient weapon, heretofore found of good 
 use in this kingdom " Gwynn, in his Autobiography, speaking ot 
 this last siege of Devizes, says — " Standing by Sir Jacob Astley a 
 bearded arrow struck into the ground between his legs. He plucked 
 it out with both hands, and said, ' You rogues, you missed your 
 
28 STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 were the pealings of musketry and the explosions 
 of shells. On the third day the garrison sur- 
 rendered — Governor Sir Charles Lloyd and his 
 men were permitted to ride away to Worcester ; * 
 and at last, high over the old keep, the blue banner 
 of the Parliament was seen flowing in the wind."}" 
 
 In May, 1646, orders came from the House of 
 Commons for the total demolition of the fortress. 
 Slowly and gradually these orders were carried into 
 effe6l by the regiments quartered in the town, until 
 almost the last vestige of a wall was gone, and 
 even the white bones and rusty chains in the 
 dungeons were open to the sky. For several years 
 it was a daily excitement to see the warriors at 
 work, now with sturdy swing, handling pickaxe or 
 lever, now pausing to hold a debate on theology, 
 to settle a case of conscience, or to raise the stave 
 of a psalm ; and after work was over, often going, 
 it is said, to " a little room in the little house of 
 good dame Ffreme," there to hold those meetings 
 for prayer and exhortation, which formed the first 
 stage in the history of the Baptist Church at 
 Devizes. J John Bunyan was at this time a sol- 
 aim.' " Sir Walter Scott remarks on this passage, that it is " perhaps 
 the last mention of the use of the bow and arrow in England in 
 aftual battle." 
 
 * Sprigg's Anglia Rediviva, part iii., chap. i. 
 
 f So described by Sir John Prestwitch. 
 
 J MS. Diary of Thomas Webb, a man who prayed that Daniel 
 Defoe might enjoy " the blessings of the upper and nether springs." 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 29 
 
 dier, doubtless often engaged in similar work and 
 in similar society, traces of which perhaps we find 
 in such conversations as those between Mr. Great- 
 heart and his companions, and in such verse as 
 that in which they celebrate the fall of Doubting 
 Castle. 
 
 Joseph had yet other strange schools and school- 
 masters, of which some account should be given. 
 When you step down into the twilight of the old 
 still church at Devizes, you say, "^Here, at least, we 
 may forget the world, and let the mind drink in 
 holy tranquillity." But it was not so then. 
 Houses of prayer were often vortices of strife, for 
 the prelates who a few years before had been " sow- 
 ing to the wind," were now ** reaping the whirl- 
 wind ;" and the whirlwind was often wildest there. 
 The people, having in youth had an ecclesiastical 
 drill rather than a Christian education, were not all 
 prepared to use aright their new-found liberty of 
 conscience. Just rung up in alarm out of their 
 awful sleep of ignorance, they were all in excite- 
 ment, and their uneducated enthusiasm found out- 
 force in many a rude extravagance. To borrow 
 the wise and eloquent words of the Bishop of 
 Oxford, though not spoken by him in defence of 
 the views advocated here, we may truly say that 
 " it is part of the curse of unrighteous tyranny, 
 that it not only oppresses its victims during its 
 supremacy, but that, even in its removal, it still 
 
30 STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 blights them by the licence which is engendered by- 
 its dissolution."* 
 
 We may find illustration of this truth in some of 
 the disturbances of which the churches were some- 
 times the scene, about the time of which we are 
 speaking. The custom has been to point to such 
 disturbances, and call them the effe6ls of Puritanism, 
 although they were in reality only the natural 
 eiFedts of the causes we have described, made more 
 intense by the licence of a civil war. The aftors in 
 them were not the Puritans, as such, but soldiers or 
 rioters, and the immediate sufferers from them were 
 often the Puritan ministers.f 
 
 One day, late in 1647, when Joseph with his 
 father and all the family were at church, the Pres- 
 byterian minister, worthy Master Shepherd, being 
 in the performance of his duties, one Captain Pretty 
 did, with " much admirable incivilitie," command 
 the good man to leave the pulpit, charging him 
 with " a disorderlie walk." The pulpit was vacated 
 in a swift and lively manner, and the congregation 
 " had no ledure that day." This incident seems to 
 
 * Addresses to Candidates for Ordination, by Samuel, Lord Bishop 
 of Oxford, i860, p. ai8. 
 
 •f- To be informed as to the true authors of the war, let all young 
 Nonconformists consult the aflual documents of that day, as given in 
 such works as Forster's " Debates on the Grand Remonstrance," and 
 " Arrest of the Five Members ;" Verney's " Notes of the Long Par- 
 liament," Camden Society j and Sanford's " Studies of the Great 
 Rebellion." 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 31 
 
 have furnished Sir Walter Scott with a suggestion 
 for the scene in " Woodstock," where Master 
 Nehemiah Holdenough suffers similar " inciviiitie" 
 from the hands of Joseph Tomkins the weaver ; 
 who forthwith takes the clergyman's place, and 
 delivers a long exhortation.* 
 
 It was no uncommon thing to find a soldier in 
 possession of the pulpit, and the boy Alleine often 
 heard a military preacher. You may still see old 
 manuscript notes of such sermons taken down by 
 hearers. There are notes of one preached in St. 
 John's by Major Barton, about the beginning of 
 the year 1649. ^^ '^^ founded on Numbers xii. 
 I, 2, 3 ; and has evident reference to the revolt of 
 the Levellers. Nothing could be more unlike the 
 work of an enthusiast. The constru6live skill it 
 displays would have done credit to one of the 
 deposed bishops. It has division within division, 
 in all ninety-seven — subtle, intricate, confounding, 
 pedantic, preposterous. Each has a numerical 
 distindtion. The thoughts are dry as petrifacftions, 
 and it is difficult to conceive that once they were, 
 as they must have been, full of passionate life.f 
 
 * One proof that Sir Walter knew of this circumstance, and 
 had it in mind when he wrote this romance, exists in the faft that at 
 this time (1636) Sir Henry Lee was one of the capital burgesses of 
 Devizes. — Chamberlain's Accounts. 
 
 f " Good Old Simeon Ash wrote to Colonel Barton, when Monk 
 came in, to engage him for the King."— Baxter MS. In the Public 
 
2 1 STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 " Sir," said " a gentleman all in scarlet," to a 
 minister, as he was one day stepping out of the 
 pulpit, " you speak against the preaching of sol- 
 diers ; but I assure you, if they have not leave to 
 preach, they will not fight ; and if they fight not, 
 you must all fly the land and begone. * * * 
 These men who are preachers, both of troopers 
 and commanders, are the men whom God hath 
 blessed within these few months to rout the enemy 
 twice in the field, and to take many garrisons of 
 castles and towns. — I thought good to let you 
 understand as much, and this is all I have to 
 say." * 
 
 According to Edwards, the author of the " Gan- 
 groena," the violent and insulting interruption of 
 the Presbyterian ministers by soldiers, in the 
 time of public service, was an ordinary event.f If 
 so, the charge must be restridled to those who were 
 known as the Levellers, — rebels on theory against 
 all authority, and whose revolt against Cromwell has 
 just been the subjedl of a passing allusion. But it 
 was common even for those of their number who 
 belonged to that large and superior class whose 
 praise is in all the histories, to aspire after preach- 
 
 Intelligencer for February, 1660, we find the name of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Barton associated with that of General Monk. This must 
 have been the same person. 
 
 ■|: Gangroena, book i., p. iii. 
 
 \ Book i., pp. 106 — 108. 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 33 
 
 ing or disputing in the churches. Baxter records 
 an instance of such a discussion carried on in 
 Agmondesham Church, between himself and " Pitch- 
 ford's cornet," one taking thd reading-desk, and the 
 other the gallery.* The Ironsides seemed to claim 
 an occasional use of their gifts in the pulpit as one 
 of their rights, and part of their pay. 
 
 Such are fair instances of the things which helped 
 to form Alleine's education. Almost every person 
 he knew, led a life of anxiety and adventure, every- 
 where and every day. Thomas Fuller had truly 
 said, " Janus's Temple was not shut in any parish, 
 and there was no rest on the earth." The people 
 of Devizes in particular, had a thousand experiences 
 to remind them of some lines in a book that was 
 then lying on many a window-seat : — 
 
 " Ah ! sweet Content, where is thy mild abode ? 
 Is it with shepherds and light-hearted swains. 
 Which sing upon the downes and pipe abroad, 
 Leading their flockes, and calling unto plains ? 
 " Ah ! sweet Content, where dost thou safely reste ? 
 In heaven, with angels, who the praises sing 
 Of Him that made and rolls at His beheste 
 The minds and parts of ev'ry living thing ? 
 " Ah ! sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold ? 
 Is it in churches with religious men, 
 Which praise their God with prayers manifold. 
 And in their studies meditate it then ? 
 " Whether thou dost in heaven or earth appeare, 
 Be where thou wilt, thou wilt not harbour here." f 
 
 Orme's Life of Baxter, vol. ii., p. 74. f Barnaby Barnes, 1590, 
 
 D 
 
34 STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 Many faded letters and diaries bear witness to 
 the fad that thoughts Hke these, suggested by the 
 troubles of the times, were often employed by the 
 Divine Regenerator to bring about that grand 
 change, which all must feel who " see the kingdom 
 of heaven." "Content is not here," it was said, 
 "where can we find it?" Like the dove of the 
 deluge, that flew to the ark because nowhere else 
 could it fold its weary wing to rest, many were 
 taught by trouble to seek rest in Christ. Young 
 as he was, there is reason to believe that Joseph 
 Alleine was thus taught. It was just at the time 
 of the second siege, when he was about eleven 
 years old only, that he dated the dawn of his new 
 life. At that time his many contrivances for being 
 alone were first observed, and persons coming acci- 
 dentally where he was at such seasons, found that 
 he was alone for prayer, so absorbed in his simple 
 devotions as not to be aware of their presence. He 
 grew up so much under the influence of great and 
 solemn feelings, that the state of his mind was some- 
 times an overstrained one. From his gravity, in- 
 duced partly by this, and partly by his love of 
 study, his companions used to call him " the lad 
 that will not play." It would dishonour the benig- 
 nant Redeemer to plead for a religion that by its 
 own inherent law 
 
 *' Checks a child with terror, 
 Stops its play, and chills its song." 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 3S 
 
 But In this case we only see the natural working of 
 the forms in which religion was first suggested to 
 his mind, and of the outward forces that first led 
 him to feel its value. These early events seemed 
 to cast a shadow all along his future life. Seeing 
 from boyhood little peculiar to earth besides " the 
 windy storm and tempest " of sin and consternation, 
 he was almost led to think that he had absolutely 
 nothing to do in this world but to hasten through 
 It to a better, and by means of invitation or 
 alarm to persuade, if possible, everyone else to 
 become a companion of his panic flight. Under the 
 power of God's Spirit, the same circumstances also 
 tended to educe habits of self-denial, of endurance, 
 and of hardy, fearless courage in the advocacy or 
 practice of his faith. It would be wrong, however, 
 to think that his was only a gloomy religion. Old 
 trads say that " even in his childhood he showed a 
 singular sweetness of disposition," and that " the 
 whole course of his youth was one even-spun thread 
 of godly conversation, which was rendered the more 
 amiable by his sweet and pleasant deportment 
 towards all he conversed with."* 
 
 His eldest brother, Mr. Edward Alleine, was a 
 clergyman ; but In 1645, when he was only In his 
 
 * A Brief Relation of his (Joseph Alleine's) early Setting Forth in 
 the Christian Race, &c. Written by an Eye-witness thereof. — 
 Also, account of Alleine in Clarke's Lives. 
 
 D 1 
 
J 6 STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 27 th year, he died, to the deep grief of many friends, 
 as we learn from more than one paper, in which he 
 is described as " a young minister of rare promise." 
 This, as we have seen, was the year of Joseph's 
 " setting forth in the Christian race." He implored 
 his father that he might be educated to " succeed 
 his brother in the work of the ministry." Glad 
 consent was given, and he was immediately sent to 
 school. It is supposed that the school selefted was 
 that at Poulshot, under the care of his father's 
 friend, Mr. William Spinage, fellow of Exeter 
 College, Oxford. There he had praise for unusual 
 diligence, and in four years, broken by long inter- 
 vals of visiting at home, caused by the confusion of 
 passing events, he obtained such a degree of mastery 
 over the Greek and Latin languages as to be fit, in 
 the judgment of his tutor, for university studies.* 
 
 After this he remained for a little time in his 
 father's house at Devizes, reading logic " with a 
 worthy minister of the place." Unusual maturity 
 now displayed itself both in mental and religious 
 ( life. Jeremy Taylor decides that '* some are of age 
 ^ I at 15; some at 20; and some never." Joseph 
 Alleine was of age at 15, and his father, whose 
 heart had been almost broken by the loss of his 
 first-born, as he now looked upon the son who was 
 rising to take the place of the departed one, and as 
 
 * Anthony Wood. 
 
STRANGE SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS. 
 
 37 
 
 he proudly augured from what he was, what he 
 would be, would say, " This same shall comfort us 
 concerning our work and toil of our hands. The 
 blessing of thy father shall be upon the head of 
 Joseph, and on the crown of the head of him who 
 was separate from his brethren." v 
 
chapter III. 
 Life in tbt Puritan 21nit)er0itj^. 
 
 ' Youth, njoith pale cheek and slender frame. 
 And dreams of greatness in thine eye, 
 Goest thou to build an early name. 
 Or early in the task to die /"' k 
 
 BRYANT. 
 
 E remained at Devizes more than a year 
 after Mr. Spinage had pronounced him 
 ripe for the university, but there was 
 good reason for the delay. To all 
 appearance that year had been, for the interests of 
 learning, the most dismal and hopeless in all the 
 annals of Oxford. In 1646, after a long siege, it 
 had surrendered to the Parliament forces, but was 
 left in a state so desolate, that men said in their 
 excitement it looked " like Jerusalem in ruins." 
 Broken trees and trampled gardens were seen on 
 every hand. Sculptured stones and piftured 
 windows lay shattered in the grass. Nettles and 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIf^ERSITT. 
 
 39 
 
 brambles were growing round the walls of the 
 schools. The rich wood-work in the quadrangle 
 of Christ-church College had been torn down for 
 fuel. The halls had been turned into granaries, 
 the colleges into barracks, the butteries into shops 
 for the sale of food for the garrison ; all the 
 treasuries were exhausted ; all the plate was gone ;* 
 and books had disappeared for the purchase of 
 fire-arms. So long had Mars usurped the place of 
 Minerva, and students been accustomed to ex- 
 change cap for helmet, that the scholastic air of 
 the place had almost vanished. Le6lures and 
 exercises had fallen into disuse, except in St. Mary's 
 Church, where a scanty remnant of under- 
 graduates used to assemble. Few persons conne(5led 
 with the university remained besides heads of 
 houses and professors. 
 
 Even when the soldiers had surrendered, the 
 academics still refused to acknowledge the authority 
 of the commissioners sent down by Parliament to 
 carry out the measures which had been concerted 
 for the reformation of the university. " They 
 held out," says Dr. Walker, " a siege of more than 
 a year and a half; the convocation-house proved a 
 citadel, and each college a fort not easy to be 
 
 * Plate presented to his Majesty by the colleges, January 20th, 
 1642, i6iolb, I oz. 10 d. — Collectanea Curiosa, vol. ii., p. 227. 
 This was the first instalment. 
 
40 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 reduced."* At length, in July, 1648, this "siege" 
 of mere authority being unavailing, the Parliament 
 expelled by military force those who refused to 
 take " the solemn league and covenant," as they 
 afterwards did those who refused to sign " an 
 engagement to be true to the Government without 
 king or lords." All honour be to the memory of 
 these stout Carolist dodlors, with their romantic 
 devotion to the King, their high chivalry, and 
 their noble stand for conscience. We acknowledge 
 and deplore the wrongs they suffered. Yet, if we 
 admit the university to be a national institution, it 
 will be difficult to show why the a6lual Govern- 
 ment of the day, assuming it to be the organ of 
 the national opinion, and the grand executive of 
 the national will, should not have demanded its 
 submission to governmental authority ; and further, 
 if we admit the university to be by right a part of 
 the religious establishment of the State, it is difficult 
 to see why it was not as consistent for the State, 
 when Presbyterian, to enforce its own symbol, as 
 it was, when Episcopalian, to enforce the thirty- 
 nine articles. 
 
 While these affairs were in agitation, and Oxford 
 seemed to be but the camp of all chaotic and 
 refraftory elements, it was not likely to attradt new 
 students, and Alleine, like many others, waited. 
 
 * Sufferings ofthe Clergy, pp. 122, 123, 128. Wood's Annals. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSITT. 4 1 
 
 Something like order being at last restored, in the 
 month of April, 1649, ^^ ^^^ °^^ ^°^ ^^^ scene of 
 his studies. Amongst the Wiltshire youths riding 
 with him some part of the way, might have been 
 seen, we may suppose, " that miracle of a youth," 
 Christopher Wren, afterwards the architedl of St. 
 Paul's Cathedral, and Lancelot Addison, now 
 known only by a fame refleded from that of his 
 son, the great essayist. On his arrival, he was 
 placed at Lincoln College, then under the presi- 
 dency of Dr. Paul Hood. He thus began his 
 curriculum in the Puritan University. We must 
 give some illustrations of what is meant by that 
 phrase, and it will best be done by a few historical 
 scenes and pictures. 
 
 Stand by Joseph Alleine, and look at the first 
 scene. He had been here but a few weeks, when 
 he had an opportunity of witnessing the sober 
 splendours of a Puritan gala-day. This was occa- 
 sioned by the ceremony of creating Oliver Crom- 
 well do6tor of civil laws. Late on Thursday, 
 the 17th of May, the general rode in from Burford, 
 where he had just quelled the mutiny of the 
 Levellers, and the university put forth all her 
 pomp and all her hospitality to greet him. He, 
 Fairfax, and a staff of officers, were entertained that 
 night at All Souls' College, " hitherto," as Prag- 
 maticus pensively remarks, " a neat nursery of 
 civility and learning." In the morning, the heads 
 
42 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSITT. 
 
 of houses waited on him in their ceremonial robes, 
 and Mr. Rous of All Souls' delivered a congratu- 
 latory speech. In reply, Cromwell said that " he 
 and his companions were well aware that no 
 commonwealth could flourish without learning ; 
 that, whatever the world said to the contrary, they 
 meant to encourage it, and that so far from sub- 
 tradling any of their means, they meant to add 
 more." Next day, " having been entertained," 
 says Anthony Wood, "with good fare and bad 
 speeches " at Magdalen College, followed by a 
 hearty game of bowls on the green, the visitors 
 went to the schools. There the degree of do6lor 
 of laws was conferred on Cromwell and Fairfax, and 
 that of master of arts on their principal officers. 
 The two chiefs, arrayed in doftorial scarlet, were 
 then led in procession. Some of the usual formali- 
 ties were omitted from the routine. For instance, 
 it was customary for the beadles to march first, 
 bearing the do6lors' square caps swung from the 
 tips of their silver staves, but these costly symbols 
 of office had not yet been delivered up by the 
 Royalists ;* and, as to cap and hood, they having 
 
 * " Procuratcres sine clavibus, 
 
 Querentibus ostendas 5 
 
 Bedellos novos sine stavibus, 
 
 Res protinus ridendas." — AUibond on Oxford Univ., 164.8. 
 The staves were kept back until 1651. R. S. to Sheldon 
 Ayscough MS. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNirERSI'TT. 43 
 
 formed part of the vestments worn by Romish 
 priests, were of course rejeded as " mere conjuring ^ 
 garments," and " relics of the Amorites." On the 
 arrival of the procession at the upper end of the 
 convocation-house, all the members standing bare- 
 headed, Zanchy, the Baptist pro(5tor, made a com- 
 plimentary speech, " such as 'twas," adds our friend 
 Anthony, and presented the new dodors to the 
 vice-chancellor, who addressed them in a similar 
 strain. Ralph Button, the university orator, then 
 delivered a Latin oration, in which he styled Crom- 
 well and Fairfax " the two martial twins," in 
 allusion to Romulus and Remus. Dead and dull 
 as these and other details may look, when we only 
 see them in the old, brown pamphlets of the 
 British Museum, they may help the imaginative 
 student of the past to call into his presence some- 
 thing of the eager animation, light, and colour of 
 the very scene itself, as its changes shifted before 
 the eyes of Alleine and his companions.* 
 
 It is fair to suppose that he was looking from 
 the gallery on that high day in February, 1650, 
 when Cromwell's letter was read announcing his 
 acceptance of the chancellorship. " You shall not 
 want my prayers," so ran the document, " that 
 that seed and stock of piety (so marvellously 
 springing up among you) may be useful to that 
 
 * Mercuries j also Wood's Annals, by Gutch, vol. ii., part ii., p. 621. 
 
44 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 great and glorious kingdom of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, of the approach of which, so plentiful an 
 effusion of the Spirit on these hopeful plants, is one 
 of the best presages. And, in all other things, I 
 shall, by the divine assistance, improve my poor 
 abilities and interests, in manifesting myself to 
 the university and yourselves, your most cordial 
 friend." -" Which, being read in convocation," re- 
 marks Mr. Wood, ^' the members thereof made the 
 house resound with their cheerful acclamations."* 
 
 These acclamations were not echoed by the 
 Royalists. On the contrary, to use the chan- 
 cellor's own words, they opened a brisk " battery 
 of paper shot " upon him. Rough and unlettered 
 as they chose to call him, they had no objedlion to 
 address the hero of Naseby as " Dr. Cromwell," 
 and they frequently did so, in an ecstacy of satirical 
 glee ; but this last appointment was thought an 
 outrage too profane to be treated with levity, and 
 at the very thought of it the graver sort amongst 
 them almost gave up the ghost. Pity that so 
 much good emotion should have been wasted, for 
 succeeding events amply justified the election, and 
 Oliver, in becoming chancellor, became " the 
 pradical saviour of the old university."f 
 
 Alleine often saw the dean of Christ Church, 
 Dr. John Owen, not then looking as he does 
 
 * Fasti, p. 136. t Guizot. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNirERSITT. 
 
 45 
 
 in those later portraits by which he now is 
 known — 
 
 " the frail remains 
 
 Of sickness, care, and studious pains j" 
 
 but in the prime of his vigour ; — his dark eyes full 
 of keen fire ; his raven-black hair thrown back by 
 the adion of his quick, authoritative step ; his 
 frame still showing the spring and spirit, owing to 
 which, only a few years before, " no man was more 
 ready to pull a wherry on the Isis, or wrestle a 
 fall, or heave a stone on the college meadows, or 
 join a jolly crew of wild lads to go up on a moon- 
 light eve into the belfry of Magdalene, and set the 
 rich bells a clanging till the spire rocked, wakening 
 the night, and startling the old monastic quiet of 
 the streets with the joyous outbreak and tintin- 
 abulatory exuberance of a double Bob Major."* 
 His manliness, his courtly presence, his strong 
 will, his rare administrative ability, and, above all, 
 his sandified genius and learning, now attradled the 
 attention of Cromwell, who, as Thurloe remarks, 
 " sought not places for men, but men for places." 
 This ta6l led him to nominate the do6tor to be 
 vice-chancellor, that is, to be chancellor's deputy, 
 to a6t in his absence as the virtual judge and ruler 
 of all academical affairs. Accordingly, on the i6th 
 
 * Dublin University Essays, No. IV. j Life and Times of John 
 Owen, D.D., by the Rev. Richard S. Brooke, M.A. 
 
46 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSITT. 
 
 of September, 165 1, he was chosen to that honour 
 by the unanimous suffrage of the senate. He soon 
 effected great reforms. During the five years of his 
 vice-chancellorship, " professor's salaries, lost for 
 many years, were recovered and paid, the rights and 
 privileges of the university were defended against 
 all the efforts of its enemies, the treasury was 
 tenfold increased, new exercises were introduced and 
 established, old ones duly performed."* The 
 once-deserted courts were crowded again, and even 
 in the first few months of his office, four hundred 
 more students were enrolled than in one of the 
 golden years of King James. j- The coarse 
 amusements and the shameful vice which had made 
 Oxford so notorious in the reign of that great 
 monarch, and which, if possible, had become worse 
 during the military occupation of the place,J were 
 
 * Oratio ad Richardum Crom. 
 
 f In 1 622, the total number of students of all degrees was 2,850 ; 
 in 1651,3,247. " The Foundation of the University of Oxford," 4to., 
 1651, supposed to have been written by Dr. Langbaine, keeper of the 
 archives. 
 
 X Sir Henry Blount, Knight, who was at Oxford in Charles I.'s 
 time, " inveighed much against sending youths to the university, 
 where they only learned to be debauched." — Aubrey's Lives. 
 
 "That which was most burdensome tome . . . was the debauchery 
 of the university. For the most eminent scholars of the town . . , 
 did work upon me by such endearments as took the name of 
 civilities (yet day and night could witness our madness) ; and, I 
 must confess, the whole time of my life besides I did never so much 
 transport me with drinking as that short time I lived at Oxford, 
 and that with some of the gravest bachelors of divinity there." — 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSITT. 47 
 
 put down by Owen with resolute severity. Yet he / 
 meant only to be intolerant of wickedness. Opinions 
 and preferences of good men, however adverse 
 to his own, he treated with respedl. The Royalist 
 visitor to a chapel would see no traces of injury 
 done to its Gothic effigies or floral mouldings, 
 but those received in the siege ; he would find 
 few differences in its arrangements, except that 
 the altar would be " turned table-wise ;" and the 
 solemn organ still '' tossed its music from side to 
 side ;" at least we know that the organ was still 
 used in the chapel of the college under the prin- 
 cipalship of the famous Independent, Dr. Thomas 
 Goodwin, as well as in some others.* Caps and 
 hoods were an abomination to Owen's puritanic 
 tastes, and he said so ; but they were worn without 
 hindrance by those who liked them. Owing to 
 the narrow policy of Government, still more 
 owing to the folly of the bishops, the Episcopalian 
 service was now proscribed, but every day a few 
 Episcopalians met to enjoy their forbidden Prayer- 
 book in a house just opposite his own. They 
 knew that he might have dispersed them had he 
 
 Arthur Young, Gentleman Commoner of Trinity College, Oxford, 
 in 163 1, " Peck's Desiderata Curiosa." lib. xii., p. 470. 
 
 " What few students remained were much debauched, and were 
 much addifted to swearing, drinking, and profanity." — Wood's 
 Annals of the University 
 
 * Evelyn's Diary, 1654, 
 
48 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSITT. 
 
 SO minded ; but, in the interchange of courtesies 
 between him and them, as they casually met on 
 the green outside, he never made inquiry as to 
 the object of their assembly.* Congregationalist 
 as he was, he appointed qualified men to responsible 
 posts, notwithstanding their presbyterianism or their 
 prelacy ; " for," said he, " I wish that the people 
 of the Lord, notwithstanding their differences, 
 may live peaceably one with another, enjoying 
 rule and -promotion^ as they are fitted for employ- 
 ment ''\ 
 
 While the doftor was giving all his soul to 
 the work of raising the university from its fall, 
 his few recreative hours were spent in penning 
 some of those folios by which he now is mainly 
 known. " Ponderous tomes," says one, " each 
 
 * It is grievous to think that we cannot say as much for his tolerant 
 spirit towards the Quakers. In 1654, two harmless women were, in 
 their belief, " moved by the Spirit" to speak in a " steeple-house, after 
 the priest had done," in refutation of what he had said. They had 
 also rebuked the students, who in turn treated them roughly, thrusting 
 them into " the pool called Giles's, and causing one of them to fall 
 into an open grave." When the poor women were brought before the 
 magistrates, the mayor was willing to discharge them, but Owen 
 insisted on their punishment. A full account of this was published in 
 a pamphlet, entitled, "A true Testimony of the Zeal of the Oxford 
 Professors and University Men, in persecuting the Servants of the 
 living God." — Lond. 1654. Owen had a strong prejudice against the 
 Friends, as appears from his Exercitationes apologetica ad'versus 
 hujus temporis Fanaticos. Oxon, 1658. 
 
 ■\ Sermon before Parliament, 17th September, 1656. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURirAN UNIFERSITT. 
 
 49 
 
 one of which might have been fairly boasted of 
 as the Hfe-work of a man of earnest thought and 
 labour, but which were by him thrown off almost 
 sportively. We gaze upon them with a sort 
 of breathless wonder ; wonder increased by the 
 recolledion that they were the results of his brief 
 leisure, — and the wonder reaches as far as humanity 
 can entertain it, when we find the man of so 
 many sacred offices, of so many high achievements, 
 and with so many calls upon his time, not only 
 equal to all, but a6lually going up to Parliament 
 and taking his seat as representative of the 
 university of Oxford."* Such was Owen, and 
 like him were the Puritan scholars round him ; 
 miracles of memory and acquisition ; men, caring 
 little indeed for the graces of literature, and pos- 
 sessing no admiration of the exquisite ; with no | 
 ear for the music of language, and no eye for the i 
 magic of beauty, but whose minds were filled to 
 overflow with the riches of all old learning, and 
 whose powers were trained to grapple athletically 
 with all great questions in the religious and eccle- 
 siastical controversies of their times. 
 
 Oxford was now the refuge of science as well 
 as of learning. In November, 165 1, just before 
 Owen's installation, and apparently with reference 
 to it, we find the Hon. Robert Boyle thus 
 
 * Gentleman's Magazine, January, 1851. 
 £ 
 
so 
 
 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSirT. 
 
 writing to a friend : — *' As for our intelledtual 
 concerns, I do with some confidence expe6t a re- 
 volution, whereby divinity will be exalted, and 
 real philosophy flourish beyond men's hopes."* 
 Shortly after the date of this letter, which was 
 written from Twickenham, we find Boyle has taken 
 up his residence at Oxford, mainly, we suppose, 
 for the cultivation of " real philosophy." It was 
 the only place in England," remarks his biographer, 
 " where, at that time, he could have lived with 
 satisfadion to himself." f Then and there it was 
 that he and the most distinguished men of science 
 living held those enthusiastic meetings for expe- 
 riments which issued in the formation of the Royal 
 Society. For the convenience of inspe6ling drugs, 
 these meetings were first held in an apothecary's 
 house, at the lodgings of Dr. William Petty, the 
 ancestor of the present Marquis of Lansdowne. J 
 
 Alleine's course at Oxford was coincident with 
 the life and labours there of these notabilities. 
 It requires a capacious faith to believe with Dr. 
 Walker that " they reduced the university to a 
 mere Munster ; and that if the Goths and Vandals, 
 or even the Turks, had overrun the nation, they 
 could not have done more to introduce disloyalty. 
 
 * November, 1 65 1. Ayscoiigh MS., 4162. 
 j- Life of Boyle, by Birch, 1744., P- ^ i°- 
 \ Aubrey's Life of Seth Ward. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNirERSITT. 5 I 
 
 barbarism, and ignorance." The very utterers of 
 statements like these, when off their guard, refute 
 themselves. Lord Clarendon, their leader, says of 
 Oxford under Owen, " It yielded a harvest of 
 extraordinary good and sound knowledge, in all 
 parts of learning ; and many who were wickedly 
 introduced, applied themselves to the study of 
 learning and the pradlice of virtue."* Our student 
 needed no sympathy. He had rare advantages, 
 which he used with rare industry, and a Wiltshire 
 place becoming vacant in Corpus Christi College, 
 on the 3rd of November, 165 1, he was chosen 
 scholar of that house, " eleded in accordance with 
 the old statute ;"t "his merit," says a fellow- 
 student, " being the only mandamus that brought 
 him in." 
 
 It was a great satisfadion to him to be intro- 
 duced to the friendship of Dr. Edward Staunton, 
 the president. Two very different biographical 
 accounts of this gentleman have been left us ; one 
 written in a spirit of deep veneration, the other in 
 that of strong antipathy and disrespeft. J He had 
 the reputation of being an austere precisian. Well 
 known as a scholar, he was still more famous as 
 " a saint." It Vv'as said that " he prayed like an 
 
 * History of Rebellion, vol. iii , p. 57. f MS. at Corpus Christi. 
 J Life and Death of" Dr. Edward Staunton, 1 67 3, by Mayo. Appen- 
 dix to the Life, Sec, 1672 ; supposed to bs by William Fulman. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 
 
 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITT. 
 
 angel." Men called him " the living Concordance." 
 His generosity kept him poor, and he ever sought 
 to relieve the spiritual as well as the temporal wants 
 of his needy neighbours, giving away ''godly books 
 and catechisms" by hundreds. With him, the un- 
 seen world was all in all, and life without, impor- 
 tant only for its bearings on the life within. 
 *' Joseph Alleine," writes an old memorialist, "soon 
 became a great comfort to this holy man ; and it 
 did always revive him to hear of his after-eminence 
 in the church of God."* 
 
 Before the entrance of any student into this col- 
 lege, the dodlor had an interview with him in order 
 to discover, if he could, the " signs of grace." In 
 the Spe£iator, No. 494, a story is related of such a 
 conversation. A young Oxford matriculatist is 
 conduced into a chamber all hung with black, and 
 lighted by the glimmer of a solitary lamp. At 
 last, the head of the college makes his appearance, 
 puts a few mysterious interrogatories, and sums up 
 all by the question, " Are you prepared for 
 death?" which question being misunderstood by 
 the youth, " frighted him out of his wits," so that, 
 upon making his escape, he could never be brought 
 to examination again. This sketch, it has been 
 thought, was intended to ridicule Dr. Thomas 
 Goodwin ; but to the scared imagination of many a 
 
 * Clarke's Lives, 1683, p. 174.. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 53 
 
 " Roger Wildrake," it would have served equally- 
 well for a pidure of Dr. Staunton in his audience- 
 chamber. 
 
 Besides ordinary anxieties for the piety of the 
 students, was that arising from the fa6t that Corpus 
 Christi was regarded as pre-eminently the college 
 for ministers. " It was the founder's will, expressed 
 in one of the statutes, that all the fellows and 
 scholars who were of the foundation should, about 
 a year or two after they were masters of arts, be 
 ordained to the holy ministry, one only excepted, 
 who, ad arbitriuntj should be deputed to the study 
 and pra(5tice of physics."* The dodor was con- 
 scientiously in earnest, therefore, that this will 
 should be realized, as far as was consistent with the 
 altered condition of university life. Everything 
 was done by him with a view to this object, not 
 only by " putting into force all such statutes as 
 tended to the advancement of learning and religion," 
 but by catechetical exercises, meetings in his own 
 house for prayer and religious conference, and 
 divinity lectures for initiating the senior students 
 into the work of the ministry. Owing to the work- 
 ing of this theory in the doctor's hands, of all 
 colleges in Oxford this would have been generally 
 deemed the most solemn and sombre. It was like 
 a Puritan monastery. Within its awful walls, no 
 
 • Wood. 
 
54 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIJ^ERSITY. 
 
 language was to be spoken but Greek or Latin ; 
 very strid were its rules, and even in the dining 
 hour, all were accustomed to listen in silence while 
 one of the brotherhood read from the Scriptures, 
 or else joined with the doftor in spiritual discourse. 
 " Truly," remarks the learned Henry Jessey, in 
 1660, "I think there was scarce such a place in 
 the world as Corpus Christi, where such a multi- 
 tude held forth the power of godliness, and purity 
 of God's worship. Even an Eden it was, but now 
 a barren wilderness."" 
 
 This was true in the main, yet it is to be feared 
 that the "hopeful plants" here and in other col- 
 leges were not all so good as they seemed to be ; 
 and we learn from the accounts of the early Friends, 
 who in some instances suffered violent ill-treatment 
 from the gownsmen, that the bad were very bad. 
 Indeed, how could it be otherwise } Many a wild 
 lord, who afterwards frolicked in the Court of 
 Charles the Second, — many scapegraces, who after- 
 wards gave occasion for the blind poet to call them 
 " sons of Belial, flown with insolence and wine," — 
 were now at college ; and although perhaps they 
 could utter the evangelical pass-words demurely as 
 their companions, it would have been strange had 
 they not found at intervals some way of indulging 
 
 * Jessey 's Loud Calls, describing " the Lord's strange hand at 
 Oxford," 1660. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 55 
 
 in their favourite revelry, unknown to the mag- 
 nates of the place. We need not stain this page by- 
 narrating the doings of alumni like these, espe- 
 cially as such outbreaks were rare and exceptional. 
 But there were others, who, while never running 
 to the same vicious excess, sometimes went too 
 far in the same diredion. As human nature, 
 though clad in an antique costume, was much the 
 same then as now, of course we know that some 
 young Puritans, who had been tutored into miracu- 
 lous gravity by discipline like that at Corpus 
 Christi, would, the moment restraint was over, 
 break out into all kinds of riotous fun. Small 
 blame to them, only we grieve to say that even 
 when no malice was intended, this merriment was 
 often at the expense of the poor Quakers. Here 
 is a company gathered round John Ward, who is 
 telling them that " a Quaker has just been in to 
 Sir Harry Vane, to persuade him that he is the 
 Lord's anointed, and powred a botle of rancid oyle 
 upon his head, which did make Sir Harry shake 
 his eares !" Another has something to tell about " a 
 Quaker debtor, who has just replied to his creditor, 
 * 'Tis revealed to mee that I ow thee nothing.' " 
 At last they all go to a " silent meeting," and one 
 of them, with a lively recolledion of Dr. Staunton's 
 last discourse, preaches to the outraged but uncom- 
 plaining audience on the subje(5l of " Tobit and 
 his dog," enlarging on the dodrine with needless 
 
56 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 prolixity, sprinkling the sentences with scraps of 
 most audacious Latin, and quotations from apocry- 
 phal fathers, then branching off into interminable 
 " Vses and points, after the manner of the priests." 
 At another time, a visitor comes to Oxford, pro- 
 fessing to be a Greek patriarch, " by name Jere- 
 mias," and that he wants from the university 
 authorities "a model of the last Reformation." He 
 has " old, long, black raiment, a broad white beard, 
 and a hat whose brim is of an eastern diameter." 
 Some of the Royahsts repair to him for his bless- 
 ing ; Harmar addresses a formal Greek harangue 
 to him ; even Owen resorts to him ; becomes on a 
 sudden exquisitely and haughtily polite ; all is 
 found out to be a trick, and to escape the storm of 
 indignation, the mischievous originator of it is 
 obliged to abscond.''' 
 
 Joseph AUeine took no share in these freaks of 
 Puritan juvenility ; nor even in recreations less 
 questionable. He felt no gloom in Corpus Christi. 
 It was to him, as it had been to Hooker before 
 him, even as " a garden of piety, of peace, and of 
 a sweet conversation." The genius of the place 
 suited him. - He knew no change in his life, and 
 asked for none, but what was now and then made 
 by a " solemn fast," or a new invention of self- 
 
 * Wood's Annals; Peck's Desiderata Curiosa ; MS. Common- 
 place Book of John Ward, 1 7 vols. ; Trads of the Friends, in the 
 Library of Devonshire House. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITr. 
 
 57 
 
 denial. With all this, it is said, such was the 
 friendliness and liveliness of his spirit, and such the 
 charm of his address, that were it not for his many- 
 other excellencies, *' he might have been described 
 as Tot us ex comitate^ made up of courtesy." Yet 
 he had such a panic sense of the value of time, and 
 the importance of study, that nothing could induce 
 him to relax his labours. 
 
 *' Who studies ancient laws and rites, 
 Tongues, arts, and arms, and history, 
 Must toil like Selden days and nights, 
 And in the endless labour die." * 
 
 This was his student-creed, and he tried to pradlise 
 it. " He could toil terribly." One of his com- 
 panions assures us that it was common for him 
 to work from four o'clock in the morning, and 
 often until one the next ; and that it was as usual 
 for him to give away his commons at least once, as 
 it was for others to take theirs twice a day. Like 
 many in those days, he was tempted to look upon 
 that man as the holiest Christian and the worthiest 
 student who was simply least indulgent to the body, 
 scorning it, addressing it in abusive language, and 
 keeping it under, as a mere inconvenience, or a 
 mere dead weight to the soul. He ought to have 
 remembered the sentiment of his favourite Plutarch, 
 " Should the body sue the mind before a court of 
 
 * R. Bentley. 
 
58 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 judicature for damages, it would often be found 
 that the mind had been a ruinous tenant to its land- 
 lord ;" and he might have drawn the inference, that 
 in such a case the mind would have a formidable 
 fine to pay. Wood says he became " a meer 
 scholar." This, had it been true, would have been 
 sufficient penalty, but it was untrue. His judg- 
 ment was as remarkable as was his scholarship. 
 " All who knew him," writes his friend, *' knew 
 him to be as smart a disputant and as excellent a 
 philosopher as he was a good linguist. When he 
 performed any academical exercises, either in the 
 hall or in the schools, he seldom or never came off 
 without the applause, or at least the approval, of 
 all but the envious." 
 
 On July 6th, 1653, he took the degree of 
 bachelor of arts, and an interesting proof of the 
 estimation in which he was held is afforded by the 
 fa6l that he Vv^as almost immediately compelled, 
 young as he was, to become a tutor of his college. 
 Some impression may also be taken of what he was 
 himself, from the eminence which some of his pupils 
 afterwards attained. Dr. Kippis asserts that " several 
 became very eminent Nonconformists," but the only 
 one of them known by his present biographer to 
 have joined the ranks of Nonconformity was 
 Robert Dod, M.A., who, according to Calamy, 
 " greatly profited " under his tuition, both in 
 " serious religion, and in useful, humane learning." 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 55 
 
 He was ordained by Bishop Juxon immediately- 
 after the Restoration, and was reftor of Inworth, 
 in Essex, until 1662. All the others who can be 
 traced with distind certainty were destined to be 
 stars of the church of England. The names of 
 some of them here follow : — 
 
 John Rosewell, D.D., sometime fellow of Corpus 
 Christ!, afterwards head-master at Eton, and 
 canon of Windsor. — Christopher Coward, D.D., 
 also fellow of his college ; an intimate friend of Sir 
 Kenelm Digby, and Bishop Ken ; he became 
 rector of Dicheat, in Somerset, and prebendary of 
 Wells. — NicholasHorseman,B.D., author of several 
 learned works. — John Peachell, D.D., admitted 
 master of Magdalen College in 1679. — Another of 
 his pupils was Sir Coplestone Bampfield ; but he 
 does not appear to have refleded the highest credit 
 on his college training.* 
 
 In the year 1654, on the occasion of the peace 
 which Cromwell concluded with the Dutch, there 
 was no small stir in the university. 
 
 Straight other studies are laid by. 
 And all apply to poetry : 
 Some write in Hebrew, some in Greek, 
 And some, more wise, in Arabic, 
 
 * Authority for what is said above will be found in the following 
 works : — Wood's Life of Dr. Nicholas Grey } the Kennett 
 MSS., British Museum; Kennett's Register; Bliss's Life of 
 Wood ; Fasti Oxonienses ; and a pamphlet of Andrew Marvell, 
 who says, " Sir Coplestone Bampfield is much addicted to tippling." 
 
6o LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITT. 
 
 T' avoid the critic, and th' expense 
 Of difficulter wit, and sense. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The doftors lead, the students follow : 
 Some call him Mars, and some Apollo ; 
 Some Jupiter, and give him th' odds, 
 On even terms, with all the gods : 
 Then Caesar he's nicknam'd as duly as 
 He that in Rome was christened Julius ; 
 And was address'd to by a crow, 
 As pertinently long ago."* 
 
 After a fashion which Butler ridiculed in this 
 rattling fire of conundrums, the do6lors and students 
 of Oxford did honour to the Lord Protedor, pre- 
 senting him in various languages with a garland of 
 poetical addresses of gratitude and compliment, 
 many of which were printed in a volume entitled 
 Oxoniensium EAAI0*0PIA. Alleine contributed a 
 Latin ode, but after a long search it has not yet 
 appeared. Certainly it is not in the printed book ; 
 perhaps not inserted there because wanting in the 
 fervour which became the occasion. We know 
 from his own confession that he was unable to join 
 in the highest praise that was given to " Cromwell, 
 chief of men." 
 
 Twelve months before he left Oxford, he became 
 chaplain to the college ; preferring this office to a 
 fellowship, which in a little time would have been 
 his own of course and by right. 
 
 The companion, whose words have been cited 
 
 * Butler's Miscellanies. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIFERSITT. 6 I 
 
 before, attributes this preference to his delight in 
 the exercises of devotion. Much of his time in the 
 early morning was thus spent, and after walking or 
 discoursing with a friend, he would usually propose 
 to close the interview with prayer. Most likely, 
 the most definite motive to this decision for the 
 clerical engagement was the spirit which was already 
 visible as the ruling law of his life — " ardent love 
 to the souls of men," inspiring an impatience to be 
 occupied in diredl ministerial work. He began to 
 take every opportunity of preaching in the village 
 churches, and where he thought men were most 
 forgotten. " He paid frequent visits to persons 
 who were mean and low, his main design being, 
 together with relieving their wants, helping their 
 souls on the way to heaven." The prisoners in 
 the county gaol attracted much of his sympathy. 
 Partly as the cause, partly as the effecft of great 
 negleft, prisons were then scenes of such repulsive 
 wretchedness, and sometimes of such deadly infedlion, 
 that to pay them a visit of charity was often a 
 dangerous venture to the benevolent enthusiast. 
 Some of the citizens had lately died of gaol fever. 
 In 1577, when the Oxford prisoners were brought 
 out of their cells for trial, the chief baron, the 
 sheriff, and four hundred persons who were present 
 in the court, all died of infe6lion within forty-eight 
 hours ; and we have no statistics to prove, or reason 
 to think, that any great sanitary reforms of the 
 
62 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 prison had taken place since that " black assize."* 
 Who ever thought of the prisoners ? AUeine was 
 the first friend they were ever known to have had. 
 It was his custom to preach to them once a fort- 
 night, and during the week of his visit to give them 
 large allowance of bread. 
 
 In 06lober, 1654, he appears to have had certain 
 offers of high preferment, but of what nature is now 
 a secret. In the following words, written to a 
 personage of whom more will be said presently, he 
 makes reference to the overture, and at the same 
 time reveals an interesting glimpse of his inner 
 life : - 
 
 " My dear Heart, — My heart is now a litde at rest to 
 write to thee. I have been these three days much dis- 
 turbed, and set out of frame. Strong solicitations I have 
 had from several hands to accept very honourable prefer- 
 ment in several kinds, some friends making a journey on 
 purpose to propound it ; but I have not found the invita- 
 tions ('though I confess very honourable, and such as are 
 or will be suddenly embraced by men of far greater worth 
 and eminencyj to suit with the incHnations of my own 
 heart, as I was confident they would not with thine. I 
 have sent away my friends satisfied with the reasons of 
 my refusal, and am now ready with joy to say with David, 
 *' Soul, return unto thy rest." But, alas ! that such things 
 should disturb me! I would live above this lower region, 
 that no passages of providence whatsoever might put me 
 
 * Baker records the fa6l in his Chronicle, p. 353. Lord Bacon 
 ascribes it to the infeftion brought into the court by the prisoners. 
 
LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNirERSITT. 6^ 
 
 out of frame, nor disquiet my soul, and unsettle me from 
 my desired rest. I would have my heart fixed upon God, 
 so as no occurrences might disturb my tranquillity, but I 
 might be still in the same quiet and even frame. Well, 
 though I am apt to be unsettled, and quickly set off the 
 hinges, yet methinks I am like a bird out of the nest, I \ 
 am never quiet till I am in my old way of communion 
 with God, like the needle in the compass that is restless 
 till it be turned towards the pole. I can say through 
 grace with the church, ' With my soul have I desired 
 thee in the night, and with my spirit within me have I 
 sought thee early ;' my heart is early and late with God, 
 and 'tis the business and delight of my life to seek Him. 
 But, alas ! how long shall I be seeking ? How long shall 
 I spend my days in wishing and desiring, when my 
 glorified brethren spend theirs in rejoicing and enjoying ? 
 As the poor imprisoned captive sighs under the burden- 
 some clog of his irons, and can only peer through the 
 grate, and think of, and long for, the sweetness of that 
 liberty which he sees others enjoy : such, methinks, is 
 my condition ; I can only look through the grate of this 
 prison, my flesh ; I see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob 
 sitting down in the kingdom of God ; but, alas ! I myself 
 must stand without, longing, striving, fighting, running, 
 praying, waiting, for what they do now inherit." 
 
 Evidently, he was open to no invitations but 
 such as would lead him into a sphere of laborious 
 ministry. Tempting offers of this kind were pre- 
 senting themselves to some of his acquaintance. 
 For example, Mr. Robert South, of Christ Church, 
 had lately been recommended as assistant minister 
 
•^ 
 
 64 LIFE IN THE PURITAN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 to the reverend Mr. Richard Baxter, of Kidder- 
 minster. There had been some correspondence on 
 the subje6l, but it had now ceased. Perhaps, that 
 " trier of Satan's subtleties" recoiled from the 
 suggested alliance, on the ground of some supposed 
 incongruity between himself and the sharp young 
 graduate. South was a flatterer of Cromwell, 
 Baxter was not ; the one was a little too frivolous, 
 the other a little too grave ; the one was too politic, 
 the other too crotchety ; — at any rate, the union was 
 never consummated. How Alleine would have 
 rejoiced at the prosped of such a co-pastorate ! He 
 was destined to a life of service very similar to it, 
 for in 1655 a letter came to him from Mr. George 
 Newton, expressing his desire for his assistance at 
 the church of St. Mary Magdalen, at Taunton. This 
 occasioned his leaving Oxford without taking his 
 master's degree, so eager was he to fulfil the grand 
 vocation of his life ; but before the final step, he 
 resolved to ride down to Taunton and survey the 
 land. 
 
chapter IV. 
 
 a Wmt to Caunton anti its £Dlti Pastor, 
 in tjje Spring of 1655. 
 
 " 7/o-xu should the hearts of saints ivithin them bound. 
 When they behold the messengers that sound 
 The gladsome tidmgs -^^yea, their njery feet 
 Are beautiful because their 'words are snveet. 
 Thrice happy land ! nxjhich in this pleasant spring 
 Can hear these turtles in their hedges sing. 
 Oh, prize such mercies /" 
 
 JOHN FLAVEL. 
 
 N the spring of 1655, he paid a visit to 
 Taunton, to see the old pastor there, 
 and to pass through the usual course of 
 a probationer. 
 Just then, perhaps, there was no town in England 
 that had a wider fame, or whose affairs were watched 
 by politicians with a keener scrutiny. Its popu- 
 lation, if not adually, was relatively very large.* 
 It had long been influential on account of its woollen 
 
 • In 1689, 20,000 persons. 
 F 
 
66 VISIT TO TAUN-rON. 
 
 manufa6tures, although the war with Spain, break- 
 ing out this very year, had just for the crisis almost 
 destroyed its trade.* It was distinguished for its 
 free, intelligent, unconquerable public spirit. Not- 
 withstanding some impediments just at first, 
 through all the vicissitudes of the great war, it had 
 been faithful to the cause of liberty. Twice had 
 it been closely besieged by Goring, and twice 
 defended with heroic steadfastness by Robert 
 Blake. When food had risen to twenty times its 
 market value, when many of the inhabitants had 
 died of starvation, when half the streets had been 
 burnt down by a storm of mortars and rockets, the 
 defenders still held their ground, and Blake 
 announced to the besiegers his grim resolve not 
 to surrender " until he had eaten his boots." The 
 rage of the Royalists at this prolonged resistance 
 knew no bounds, and " in the pages of Clarendon, 
 their loud wail and gnashings of teeth are still 
 audible. "f At last, in July, 1645, ^^ besiegers 
 were obliged to withdraw. Just ten years had 
 now elapsed since that event, but there was no 
 change in the spirit of the people. To the end of 
 the century, Taunton could be regarded by none 
 without interest, although there was a great dif- 
 
 * Fuller's Worthies, 1655, pp. 15, 19. Twenty years later it 
 had quite recovered, and we hear of " the great trade and riches of 
 Taunton." — Yarranton, 1677. 
 
 f Hepworth Dixon's Life of Blake. 
 
i 
 
 VISIT TO TAUNTON. 6 J 
 
 ference between the kinds of interest felt in it by 
 different men.* One party called it "the metro- 
 polis of fadion in the West," and the other thought 
 that of all places in that quarter, *' this deserved 
 most praise." William Lilly, the astrologer, had 
 said that '^whatever happened materially in England, 
 whether for good or ill," would most likely " show 
 itself for the most part in the West." According 
 to his own report, he was moved to deliver this 
 sage but safe predi6lion by the appearances of 
 Saturn " being in Gemini, and in the ayery tripli- 
 city ;" but we must be allowed to think that he 
 also had an eye on Taunton. f 
 
 The Taunton man of those days was tempted to 
 be proud. He gloried in his local interests and 
 histories. He thought there was no town like his 
 town, and no church like " Mary Magdalen," up 
 whose stately tower he and his companions had 
 often mounted in the war, to watch the manceuvres 
 of the enemy amongst the gardens, or under the 
 elms that arched the deep green lanes in the vale 
 below. Standing near the town wall, he thought 
 
 * North; A. Wood; Bishop Sprat. An " Informer," writing to 
 Sir Leoline Jenkins, says, '* was this wicked town brought down to 
 obedience, all the West of England would then be very regular." — 
 State Paper Office. 
 
 f A Peculiar Prognostication, astrologically predi6led, according 
 to Art. By William Lillie, Student in Astrologie. Published for 
 generall satisfaflion. Jan, 6, 1649. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 few sights on earth pleasanter than the view across 
 that vale, and he was right ; not on account of its 
 " solemn glooms, or sudden glories," not because 
 it ever rises into grandeur or breaks into wildness, 
 but because it wears a look so peaceful, so cheerful, 
 so homely. Trees all aglow with apple blossoms, 
 hedges white with may ; meadows, orchards, che- 
 quered squares of cultivation, stretch away in rich 
 level variety, mile after mile, till all the gay colours, 
 and all the innumerable tiny traceries of the scene, 
 softly distind: in the sunshine, melt into the waves 
 of the blue dreamy hills in the distance. So it 
 was when Alleine saw it first, and so it is now. 
 The Puritans who were with him — peace be to their 
 memory ! — might have pretended not to see this 
 broad illuminated beauty ; they might have thought 
 of it in the" light of a temptation, they might have 
 felt half afraid that it betrayed a carnal affedion to 
 admire it ; yet they did admire it, and their delight 
 would sometimes burst forth in Bible language. 
 A certain hill, about half a mile from the town, 
 they used to call Mount Nebo, in allusion to the 
 prospedl it commanded ; and the vale itself, they 
 said, was " even as a land flowing with milk and 
 honey."* 
 
 But the true glory of Taunton was its Puri- 
 tanism, and the great light of its Puritanism 
 
 * Savage's History of Taunton, p. 7. 
 
VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 69 
 
 was Mr. George Newton, the pastor. He was 
 master of arts of Exeter College, Oxford. He 
 had received episcopal ordination at the hands of 
 Laud, when that prelate was bishop of Bath and 
 Wells. After that, he was for a short period 
 minister of Hill Bishop, near Taunton, a perpetual 
 curacy, then in the gift of Sir George Farewel ; and 
 in 1 63 1, became vicar of Taunton Magdalen, by 
 the presentation of Sir William Portman and Mr. 
 Robert Hill. He soon became a noted " gos- 
 peller." Though naturally timid, " strength was < 
 made perfed: in weakness," and he was not timid in 
 the assertion of his principles. According to 
 Fuller, Somersetshire was the earliest field of the 
 Sabbatarian controversy, and it appears that Mr. 
 Newton was one of the earliest champions in the 
 field, if not the very first, taking the side of the 
 Sabbath against the profane decrees of the King. 
 When, in 1633, the "Book of Sports" came out 
 by order of council, and was commanded to be 
 read in all the churches, he read it, but said imme- 
 diately to his congregation, " These are the com- 
 mandments of men." He then read the 20th 
 chapter of the book of Exodus, saying, " These 
 are the commandments of God ; but whereas in this 
 case the laws of God and the laws of man are at 
 variance, choose ye which ye will obey." Thus, 
 regarding it as an iniquitous law, he contrived at 
 once to defeat its objedl, to evade its penalty, and 
 
yo visir TO taunton. 
 
 to set an example of protesting decision to the 
 ministers in all the country round.* 
 
 The year 1636 was the date of a remarkable 
 episode in the annals of his eventful pastorate. 
 This arose out of the emigration of some enter- 
 prising members of his flock, to establish an evan- 
 gelical colony in America. Burning with zeal to 
 spread God's truth abroad, unable to bear the yoke 
 of ceremonies Imposed upon them by the prelatical 
 faction at home, and unwilling any longer to pay 
 exhausting fines for nonconformity, they resolved 
 to strike out this noble course of independence. 
 The fad:, since the time of Its occurrence, has 
 scarcely been heard of here until lately, and has not 
 been published in England until now. After grave 
 conference, many tears, and many a meeting for 
 prayer, the pilgrims at length set sail, with the 
 blessing of their pastor on their cause. We are 
 unable to report their numbers, and most of their 
 names have dropped out of human memory; but 
 amongst them we find Rossiter, Blake, Deane, 
 Strong, Attwood, Reed, Hall, and Thomas Fare- 
 well, — names still represented In Taunton, and 
 showing that we have still amongst us the families 
 from which the emigrants sprung. It was the dls- 
 tlndtlon of this enterprise that It was led by a lady. 
 
 * Fuller's Church History, sub anno, 1633. Calamy's con- 
 tinuation. Savage's History of Taunton. 
 
VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 71 
 
 Dux fixmina fa^i. Governor Winthrop calls her 
 " an ancient mayde, one Mistress Poole," and 
 informs us that " she endured much hardship in 
 the undertaking." " An ardent love for religion," 
 writes another annalist, " and an enthusiastic desire 
 of planting another church in the American wilder- 
 ness, impelled this pious Puritan lady to encounter 
 all the dangers and hardships of forming a settle- 
 ment among the Indians."* No a6lual documen- 
 tary evidence exists to show that she first roused 
 her friends at Taunton Magdalen to think of " that 
 great secret, America ;"-f or that her fortune 
 mainly helped them to meet the expenses of the 
 voyage, — from her generous and resolute spirit, 
 even this is likely ; but we have positive proof 
 that she became their leader after their disem- 
 barkation at New Plymouth. It was sometime in 
 the year 1637, that, starting from Dorchester, she 
 led them, and others who joined them there, on their 
 pilgrimage in search of a home. The country was 
 scattered over, though not always crowded, with 
 "oak, fir, beech, walnut-trees, and exceeding great 
 chestnut-trees." J Sometimes cutting their path 
 through the netted vines that hung from tree to 
 tree, sometimes plunging up to the neck through 
 
 * Historical Memoirs of New Plymouth, by Hon F. Baylies, vol. 
 ii.,p. 2. 
 
 f Sir Thomas Brown. 
 
 X Journey of Winslow and Hopkins in 1621. 
 
y 1 VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 the tall weeds and grasses, now stooping to peer 
 about a spot that was black with the cinders of an 
 old camp-fire, and printed with the footmarks of 
 unknown forerunners ; now fording a stream, now 
 toiling over grey blocks of proje6ling stone, but 
 generally winding along between the stems of the 
 forest with comparative ease ; ever catching sight, 
 through the leaves, of scudding rabbits, and of 
 antlers wafting silently away into the distance ; — 
 on the travellers went, until they reached a clear 
 space by the borders of the river Titicut. Here 
 Mistress Poole purchased lands of " the salvages," 
 and the adventurers established their encampment. 
 The spot was about twenty-six miles from Ply- 
 mouth, and about thirty-six from Boston. It 
 was a still, wild place. Millions of ancient trees 
 rustled between them and the world, and the scenery 
 seemed to look much as it might have done before 
 the creation of man ; but to them it was all holy 
 ground. A poet says, although with something of 
 a poet's license — 
 
 " Yes, call it holy ground, 
 
 The spot where first they trod ; 
 They left unstained, what there they found, — 
 Freedom to worship God." 
 
 To this place they agreed to give the name of 
 Taunton.* A street of cabins soon sprang up, 
 
 • It was not generally known by this name, but retained its 
 Indian name, Cohannet, until its incorporation in 1639. 
 
VISir TO TAUNTON. 73 
 
 but there can be little doubt that their unpretend- 
 ing temple, built of logs and twisted roots, was 
 completed first, for their first idea was worship. 
 Regarding themselves not as a band of worldly 
 emigrants, but as a church led to this place by the 
 " pillar of cloud," that they might declare the 
 wonders of the Lord amongst the heathen, one of 
 their first collediive adls was to choose a pastor, and 
 the choice fell upon William Hooke, a kinsman of 
 Oliver Cromwell,* and " a learned, holy, and 
 humble man. "f Fresh parties joined them. Grist 
 mills and saw mills, farms and fadtories, brick 
 fields and iron works gradually gave life to the 
 river-side. Here, the first forge ever known in 
 America was set up ; and here, let it be recorded 
 with due solemnity, was manufadlured the first 
 American shovel.:]: Great as was their industrial 
 energy, their spiritual energy was greater, and its 
 results were still more decisive. The Sabbath was 
 observed with austerity, stringent rules were passed 
 for social decorum, and frequent use was found for 
 the whipping post, sometimes called, irreverently, 
 the Puritan Maypole. Moreover — for the truth 
 must be told — they did, they certainly did perse- 
 
 * So Mr. Emery asserts in his interesting work on the Taunton 
 Ministry, but Hooke is not mentioned as one of Cromwell's relations 
 by Noble in his memoirs of the Proteftor's family. 
 
 f Cotton Mather. 
 
 X At Raynham, a spot included in the original purchase. 
 
74 
 
 VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 cute Baptists and Quakers. When, in 1651, certain 
 Baptists and Quakers at Boston were whipped or 
 banished from the colony, the people of Taunton 
 gave their voice against them/'" The Tauntonians 
 came to America for " freedom to worship God." 
 They advocated liberty of conscience, suffered for 
 it, fought for it, would have died for it ; but when 
 they extended the privilege to others, it was with 
 the cautious definition afterwards given by Mr. 
 Knickerbocker, " Liberty of conscience is liberty to 
 think what you please, provided you think right." 
 We are amazed at the intolerance of these fathers, 
 we are grieved by it, but the reverence due to them 
 because they were in many things before their age, 
 must not be withheld, because in a few things they 
 were only on a level with it. " In the court of 
 posterity," remarks Sir James Stephens, " it is a 
 settled point of law, that in mitigation, if not in 
 bar of any penal sentence, the defendant may plead 
 that the generation to which he belonged did not 
 regard as culpable the condudl imputed to him as 
 criminal by men of a later age." Let us give them 
 the benefit of this consideration, and then turn with 
 
 * Letter from Obadiah Holmes, of New England, to the well- 
 beloved brethren John Spilsbury and William Kiffin, in London, 
 1652. He narrates the persecution of himself and brethren; says 
 that four petitions were sent to the Plymouth Court, urging "some 
 speedy course to suppress the Baptists," and informs us that one 
 of these petitions came from " the church at Tanton, as they call 
 themselves." — Mass. Hist. Coll., vol. ii., fourth series. 
 
P^ISIT TO -TAUNTON. 75 
 
 relief to the story of their nobler deeds. Their sternly- 
 earnest spirit made them indefatigable catechists and 
 missionaries ; and we are told that in connexion 
 with such labour, many of the Indians were con- 
 verted to God. Whether engaged in work or 
 worship, the old country was as dear as ever, and 
 they had their fasts or thanksgiving days according 
 to the nature of the news that reached them of our 
 national sorrows or joys. Sermons preached on 
 such occasions found their way across the waters, 
 were printed here, and may still be met with on old 
 book-stalls.* 
 
 Meanwhile, a correspondence was maintained with 
 them by their former friends, and during the 
 course of their early difficulties, it appears that 
 public colledions on behalf of their mission were 
 made in the church of Taunton Magdalen. Some 
 passages are to be found in Mr. Newton's sermons 
 that were evidently delivered on such occasions. 
 Here is one of his appeals : — 
 
 " Now, I beseech you, my beloved, cast an eye 
 
 * New England's Teares for Old England's Feares. Preached 
 on July 23, 1640, being a day of Publike Humiliation, &c. By 
 William Hooke, minister of God's word, &c. Sent over to a 
 member of the honourable House of Commons, who desires it may 
 be for publike good. London, 1641. 
 
 New England's Senre of Old England and Jreland's Sorrows." 
 By William Hooke, minister of God's word at Taunton in New 
 England. London, 1645. 
 
76 VISIT ro TAUNTON. 
 
 upon them" (the people of American Taunton). 
 " Travel thither in your thoughts and medita- 
 tions ; there shall you see some servants of Jesus 
 Christ, once our fellow-labourers, spending them- 
 selves, undergoing difficulties without number or 
 measure to convert souls and gather Christians 
 among blind heathen ; — there shall you see the 
 Gospel blossoming, the church enlarging her tent, 
 and striking forth the curtains of her habitation, — 
 * the doves flocking to the windows.' What shall 
 we do now, beloved, and how shall we behave 
 ourselves in this dispensation ? Shall we, as many 
 have done heretofore, condemn the instruments, as 
 if they went beyond themselves in this business ? 
 Shall we mock at these beginnings of the building 
 of the temple ? Shall we despise the day of small 
 things ? Shall we, like Gallio, care for none of 
 these matters ? Truly, the least we can do is to 
 comply with Jesus Christ in this design of His, for 
 which He sends His ministers into the world, and 
 to promote this glorious work to the utmost of 
 our power. It is in the hands of those, for whom, 
 as you have heard, it is too heavy. As the men of 
 Macedonia, they seem to call over to us for help. 
 O, let not such a work miscarry, or fail of being 
 driven on, for want of any help that we can yield 
 it. Truly, my brethren, if we can help it in no 
 other way, we can help it by our prayers and our 
 purses. We can help it by our prayers. Let us 
 
VISIT ro TAUN-TON. 
 
 11 
 
 remember that we have a httle sister in America, 
 and that now is the day of speaking for her, for 
 now her case is in agitation ; and therefore now let 
 us be in earnest with the Lord ; let us pray, and 
 pray hard, let us not be cold and dead in such 
 a suit as this. We can help by our purses and 
 estate, and this is especially what we have in hand 
 at this time. We, methinks, that share not the 
 difficulties and dangers that others of our brethren 
 undergo amongst the Indians, should be content to 
 share a little of the costs ; and therefore I beseech 
 you, my beloved, enlarge your bounty more than 
 ordinary, in such a choice and extraordinary work 
 as this. 
 
 " * Go, preach my Gospel to every creature,' saith 
 Christ. Churches are to be planted all over the 
 world. This is the meaning of that famous pro- 
 clamation of our King himself, ^ From the rising of | 
 the sun even to the going down of the same my 
 name shall be great among the Gentiles ; and in 
 every place incense shall be offered unto my name, 
 and a pure offering ; for my name shall be great 
 among the heathen, saith the Lord of Hosts.' 
 — Mai, i. 1 1 . * So a great multitude, which no 
 man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and 
 tribes, and people, and tongues, stood before the 
 throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white 
 robes, and palms in their hands.' — Apoc. vii. 9. 
 And then shall that triumphant voice declare. 
 
yS VlSir TO TAUNTON. 
 
 ' The kingdoms of this world are become the king- 
 doms of our God and of His Christ; and He shall 
 reign for ever and ever.' — Apoc. xi. 15. Help 
 this choice work by your purses and prayers ! "* 
 
 A missionary sermon more than two hundred 
 years old will be regarded by some persons as a 
 curiosity. It is strange when turning over leaves 
 on which, perhaps, the light of the nineteenth 
 century never shone before, in a book which may 
 have been forgotten for many generations, to find 
 sentences that flame with such evangelic intelli- 
 gence and liberality as these. You go back in 
 thought to the day of the Commonwealth ; you 
 enter a church ; you see the minister stand, quaintly 
 garmented, with hour-glass at his side ; you hear 
 him preach a wonderfully complicated sermon ; he 
 quotes " Plutarch, his witty sarcasm," and also 
 what " Tully " or " Austin saith." Perhaps he 
 tells you that something which he is saying is " as 
 Bernard phraseth it ;" or, " as the Greek philosopher 
 hath well observed ;" or, " as Rabbi David Gantz 
 hath summed up." Then he has a word or two 
 
 • These passages occur in a folio with this title, " An Expo- 
 sition with Notes unfolded and applied on John xvii. By 
 George Newton, minister of the Gospel. Dedicated to the Honour- 
 able Colonel John Gorges, governour of the city of Londonderry 
 and the castle of Cullmore in Ireland, my duly honoured and dearly 
 beloved brother." Though not published until 1660, he says these 
 discourses were preached when he had no assistant. 
 
VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 79 
 
 strongly flavoured with personality for the squires 
 in the chancel, reproving them for wasteful expen- 
 diture in " hawks and hounds ;"* after that, with 
 startling unexpe6ledness, very striking by force of 
 contrast with all the old-fashioned things in the 
 connexion, he preaches about foreign missions just 
 as your minister might have done last Sunday. 
 
 But we are now chiefly thinking of New 
 Taunton. If the preacher had been gifted for the 
 moment with the vision of a seer, and had been 
 able to look down the long perspe6live of its future 
 course, he would have been almost ready to say, 
 " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
 peace." Since the day when he thus pleaded on its 
 behalf, it has gone from stage to stage of develop- 
 ment. For a long time this was not known here. 
 " Out of sight, out of mind." After the first 
 generation, correspondence dropped, and the story 
 of " the little sister in America " was forgotten 
 until the year 1856, when the successors of the 
 original emigrant church sent a message of inquiry 
 and love to the successors of the ancestral church 
 in England. With this came cheering informa- 
 tion. f They have been honoured from the com- 
 mencement with a long line of eminent ministers. 
 
 * These and similar references are to be found in Mr. Newton's 
 various sermons, 
 f Appendix I. 
 
8o VISir TO TAUNTON. 
 
 many of whom still live in their writings, and 
 whose biographies, ably narrated by the pastor 
 who now succeeds them, will long edify thousands.* 
 Taunton has become the parent of seven other 
 towns, all within the limits of the original settle- 
 ment. Not only is the Christian community first 
 formed, still existing, but with it forty others, all 
 in the same cluster of towns. Comparing the old 
 lists in the parochial register here with the lists of 
 those who have signed the various church covenants 
 there, we find that the children of George Newton's 
 hearers are treading in the steps of their fathers, 
 and are inheriting a legacy of good results from 
 the ministry of their father's pastor. The hardy 
 virtues of Puritan Somersetshire, that struck root 
 in the far wilderness so long since, are living still, 
 " sending out their branches to the sea, and 
 their boughs to the river ;" and the seeds cast by 
 an English lady on the waters of the Atlantic are 
 " seen after many days," flowering with the 
 thousand glories of spiritual life and usefulness. 
 
 We must return to the main line of the story. 
 In the year 1642, Taunton being besieged by the 
 Royalist forces, Mr. Newton was obliged to make 
 his escape from the place. When the town was 
 recovered for the Parliament, it was still too closely 
 
 * The Ministry of Taunton. By Samuel Hopkins Emery. 
 2 vols. Boston, 1853. 
 
J^ISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 invested to admit of the fugitive pastor's easy- 
 return. During the siege, therefore, he exercised 
 his ministry in the abbey of St. Albans, We find 
 him in his old pulpit again in 1646, at the anniver- 
 sary of the town's deliverance, taking for his text, 
 " Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee : the 
 remainder thereof thou shalt restrain."* In 1654, 
 he was placed by ordinance on the commission for 
 inquiry into " scandalous, ignorant, and inefficient 
 ministers," f a thankless post, and the recolle6lion 
 of it by Mr. Wood, when writing the short notice 
 of his life, gave new pungency to that writer's acid 
 sentences. 
 
 Great as Mr. Newton's provincial influence 
 undoubtedly was, it would be wrong to speak of 
 him as an eminent man in comparison with the 
 eminent men of his day. He was no type of 
 " great greatness," but only of an average Puritan 
 minister. " Pastor vigilantissimuSj doctrina et 
 
 * Man's Wrath and God's Praise. A Sermon on Psalm Ixxvi. 
 10. By George Newton. London, 1646. Many sermons were 
 preached on this occasion by various other ministers. In one 
 preached before Parliament the preacher said, — 
 " O give thanks to the Lord, for He is gracious, and His mercy 
 endureth for ever ; 
 Who remembered us at Naseby, for His mercy endureth for ever ; 
 Who remembered us in Pembrokeshire, for His mercy endureth 
 
 for ever ; 
 Who remembered us at Taunton, for His mercy endureth for 
 
 ever." — Walker's Sufferings of the Clergy, p. i8. 
 \ Wood's Fasti. 
 
 G 
 
8 2 VISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 ■pietate insignis" says one of his friends. " Very 
 much the gentleman," remarks another ; a peace- 
 j maker, " keeping out of the town those divisions 
 I that did so much mischief in other places," adds a 
 , third. He was a sound scholar, a faithful preacher, 
 and, in his day, not without name as a theological 
 writer. Both in preaching and writing his style 
 was prolix, negligent, and leisurely as fireside chat, 
 though sometimes breaking out into minute origi- 
 nalities of fancy, and into words that rang with a 
 quaint alliterative tinkle. Now and then he 
 might be too elaborate in his attempts to win the 
 verdidl of the clothworkers for a new rendering of 
 some Hebrew text, and would too readily assume 
 their perfed: familiarity with things that could only 
 be drawn from obscure and remote springs of learn- 
 ing. Yet they profited much by his preaching and 
 more by his life, for it was a life of hohness and 
 love. Bright, benign face ; head comforted with 
 a velvet cap ; brown locks touched with silver, 
 soon to be changed into a glory of snowy white- 
 ness, flowing down to his broad bands and prim 
 N^ Geneva gown ; the Bible in his hand ; — his very 
 
 appearance a sermon.* Such was George Newton, 
 when he and Alleine had their first conversation. 
 
 * Thus represented in a coloured drawing preserved in the Wilson 
 Colleftion of Prints. This colledion includes 1145 portraits and 
 other engravings illustrative of Nonconformist biography. 
 
VISIT TO TAUNTON. 83 
 
 The elder minister was most urgent in renewing 
 his request for the assistance of the younger. " I 
 soon observed him," said he, " to be a young man 
 of singular accomplishments, natural and acquired. 
 His intelleftuals solid, his affedlions lively, his 
 learning much beyond the ordinary size, and, above 
 all, his holiness eminent. He had a good head and 
 a better heart." Not yet more than twenty-one, it 
 appeared to be a premature honour to be nominated 
 as the associate of this old divine. We must re- 
 member that it was not as a pastor, but only as an 
 assistant that he was thought of. To him the offer 
 had the aspeft not only of a new sphere for Chris- 
 tian services, but of a new stage in his education, — 
 it would gradually fit him for those higher fundlions 
 of his calling, for which there can be no training 
 but that which is acquired in the school of expe- 
 rience. But a call from the congregation, as well 
 as from Mr. Newton, was required. During the 
 few Sundays that preceded this formal eledion, he 
 preached a series of discourses on the obedience of 
 subjeds to the supreme magistrate, founding them 
 on the sentence, " Let every soul be subjeft to the 
 higher powers." This was a strange topic at such 
 a time, and to take it was a delicate experiment in 
 such a place. We have in this fad: an unexpected 
 precedent for political sermons ! His motive seems 
 to have been a wish to be quite transparent in his 
 dealings with the people, that they might know at 
 
 G 2 
 
-f 
 
 84 ^ISIT TO TAUNTON. 
 
 first, the particulars in which his sentiments differed 
 from their own. He was a Royahst. In his inter- 
 pretation of the text in question, he brought out 
 principles that clashed with the views of many a 
 sturdy republican there. Some were offended. For 
 the most part, however, they liked him all the 
 better for his outspoken spirit. Whatever his 
 political theories might be, there could be no doubt 
 that he was a true man, and a true preacher of the 
 Gospel, and this they valued above all things, so 
 they asked him to be their teacher. In the course 
 of time, as we shall see, most of them adopted his 
 politics. There was a parting visit to the vicarage, 
 when, the two friends having sat and talked 
 together, and then prayed together, the student 
 rode back to his college chamber to pray alone. 
 
chapter V. 
 ^Ileine':^ Settlement* 
 
 " Being noiv, therefore, settled in that s-tveet and ci'vil country, 
 the uncouth solitariness of my life, and the extreme incom- 
 modity of that single housekeeping, dreau my thoughts to condescend to 
 the necessity of a married estate ; njohich God no less strangely provided 
 for me ; for ^walking from church, . . . ivith a grave and 
 reverend minister, I sazv a comely and modest gentlevuoman standing 
 at the door of the house .... and enquiring of that ^worthy 
 friend nvhether he kneva her. 'Yes,'' quoth he, '/ knovu her voell.'' 
 
 When I further demanded of him an account of that 
 
 ansiver, he told me that she tvas the daughter of a gentleman ivhom he 
 much respeSied .... advising me not to negleSl opportunity 
 . not concealing the just praises of the modesty, piety, good 
 disposition, and other virtues that were lodged in that seemly presence. 
 I listened to the motion as sent from God; and at last, upon due 
 prosecution, happily prevailed.'''' 
 
 BISHOP hall's account OF HIMSELF J 
 
 Scrips'!, May 29, 1647. 
 
 E have been detained too long in the 
 
 company of Mr. George Newton ; for 
 
 there is another personage, of greater 
 
 importance to this history, to whom we 
 
 ought to have sought introducflion earlier. This 
 
86 ALLEINPS SETTLEMENr. 
 
 is Mistress Theodosia, the daughter of " that 
 reverend man," Mr. Richard Alleine, kinsman of 
 Joseph, and parson of Batcombe, in Somerset. 
 He and this gentlewoman were on excellent terms. 
 In August, 1654, they had met at the reflory — 
 they had become friends — then, there was the old 
 story of friendship blooming into love. Do not 
 expeft a romantic tale. Besides the fragment of 
 an epistle, already given in the account of his life 
 at Oxford, the only memorial of this time is a let- 
 ter written by him on the subjed of the Taunton 
 invitation. For its style as a love-letter, it might 
 have been composed by John Knox; but there 
 is every reason to believe that it interested its first 
 reader, and, for its spirit of beautiful godliness 
 and manliness, it ought to have a charm for 
 every one : — 
 
 " My dear Heart, — By this time I hope thou hast 
 received mine by Martin, and also an answer touching 
 their resolution at Taunton. My thoughts have been 
 much upon that business of late, so small as the outward 
 encouragements in point of maintenance are, and methinks 
 I find my heart much inclining that way. I will tell thee 
 the principles upon which I go. 
 
 " First, I lay this for a foundation, that a man's life con- 
 sisteth not in the abundance of the things that he pos- 
 sesseth. It was accounted a wise prayer that Agur put 
 up, of old, that he might only be fed with food con- 
 venient for him. And certain it is, that where men have 
 least of the world, they esteem it least, and live more by 
 
ALLEINKS SETTLEMENT. 87 
 
 faith and in dependence upon God, casting their care and 
 burden upon Him, O, the sweet breathings of David's 
 soul ! the strong a(Slings of his faith and love, that we 
 find come from him, when his condition was low and 
 mean in the world. How closely doth he cling, how 
 fully doth he rely upon God ! 'I'he Holy Ghost seems 
 to make it a privilege to be brought to a necessity of living 
 by faith, as, I think, I have formerly hinted thee, out of 
 Deut. xi. 10, II; where Canaan is preferred before 
 T^gypt, in regard of its dependence upon God for the j 
 former and latter rain, which in ^Egypt they could live \ 
 without, and have supplies from the river. And certainly i 
 could we that are unexperienced, but feel the thorns of 
 those cares and troubles that there are in gathering and 
 keeping much, and the danger when riches increase of 
 setting our hearts upon them, we should prize the happi- 
 ness of a middle condition much before it. Doubtless, 
 godliness with contentment is great gain. ' Seekest 
 thou great things for thyself? ' saith the prophet to Baruch ; 
 ' seek them not.' Certainly a good conscience is a con- 
 tinual feast, and enough for a happy life : no man that 
 warreth intangleth himself with the affairs of this life, 
 that he may please Him who hath chosen him to be a 
 souldier. We should be but little encumbered with the 
 things of this world, and withal free from a world of 
 entanglements, which in a great place committed wholly 
 to our charge, would be upon our consciences as no 
 small burden. 
 
 " Secondly, I take this for an undoubted truth, that a 
 dram of grace is better than a talent of wealth ; and 
 therefore such a place where our consciences would be 
 free, and we had little to do in the world to take off our 
 hearts and thoughts from the things of eternity, and had 
 
ALLEINES SETTLEMENT. 
 
 the advantage of abundance of means, and the daily oppor- 
 tunities of warming our hearts with the blessed society 
 and conference of heavenly Christians, and no tempta- 
 tions to carry us away, nor discouragements in our walk- 
 ing with God, and the due performance of our duty ; is 
 (if we pass a true and spiritual judgment, as the Holy 
 Ghost in Scripture would,) without comparison before 
 another place, void of those spiritual helps and advantages. 
 Let us think with ourselves, what though our purses, our 
 estates, may thrive better in a place of a large main- 
 tenance ? yet where are our graces, our souls, like to 
 thrive any way answerable to what they are in this ? 
 We should have but little in this world ; but what 
 is this, if it be made up to us, as it will surely be, in 
 communion with God and His people ? If we thrive 
 in faith and love, humility and heavenly-mindedness, 
 as, above all places I know, we are likely to do there, 
 what matter is it though we do not raise ourselves 
 in the world ? The thing itself may well be accounted 
 but mean ; but let us look upon it with a spiritual 
 eye, and then we shall pass another judgment of it. 
 Who would leave so much grace, and so much comfort 
 in communion with Christ and His saints, as we may gain 
 there, for the probabilities of living with a little more 
 gentility and handsomeness in the world ? 'Tis a strange 
 thing to see how Christians generally do judge so carnally 
 of things, looking to the things that are seen and temporal, 
 and not the things that will stick by us to eternity. 
 What is it worth a year ? Is the maintenance certain and 
 sure ? What charges are there like to be ? These are 
 the questions we commonly ask first, when we speak of 
 settling. But, though those things are duly to be con- 
 sidered too, yet what good am I like to do ? what good 
 
ALLEINKS SETTLEMENr. 89 
 
 am I like to get ? — (both which questions I think might 
 be as comfortably answered concerning this, as any place 
 in England) — these should be the main interrogatories, I 
 and the chief things we should judge of a place to settle 
 in. What if we have but a little in the world ? Why ' 
 then we must keep but a short table, and shall make but a 
 little noise in the world, and must give the meaner 
 entertainments to our friends. Will not this be abun- 
 dantly made up, if we have more outward and inward 
 peace, as we may well count we shall have ? One dram 
 of saving grace will weigh down all this. Let others hug I 
 themselves in their corn, and wine, and oil, in their fat f 
 livings, and their large tables, and their great resort, if we ^ 
 have more of the light of God's countenance, more grace, 
 more comfort, who would change with them ? Surely, ' 
 if Paul were to choose a place, he would not look so 
 much what 'twas a year, but would wish us to take that 
 where we might be most likely to save our own and 1 
 others' souls. 
 
 " Thirdly, That the best and surest way to have any 
 outward mercy, is to be content to want it. When men's 
 desires are over-eager after the world, they must have thus 
 much a year, and a house well furnished, and wife, and 
 children, thus and thus qualified, or else they will not be 
 content ; God doth usually, if not constantly, break their 
 wills by denying them, as one would cross a froward 
 child of his stubborn humour ; or else puts a sting into 
 them, that a man had been as good he had been with- 
 out them, as a man would give a thing to a froppish 
 child, but it may be with a knock on his fingers, and a 
 frown to boot. The best way to get riches, is out of 
 doubt to set them lowest in one's desires. Solomon 
 found it so. Alas, he did not ask riches, but wisdom and 
 
90 
 
 ALLEINES SETTLEMENT. 
 
 ability, to discharge his great trust ; but God was so 
 pleased with his prayer, that he threw in them into the 
 bargain. If we seek the kingdom of God, and His 
 righteousness in the first place, and leave other things to 
 Him, God will not stand with us for these outwards; 
 though we never ask them, we shall have them as over 
 measure ; God will throw them in as the vantage. And 
 to this suits the experience of our dear Honoratius ; 
 indeed (saith he, speaking of God), Honoratius finds 
 that his only hiding-place and refuge, and a place of 
 succour, from the storms that fall upon him, and hath had 
 such helps at a dead lift there, that he is engaged for ever 
 to trust there. For when he had been lowest and in the 
 greatest straits, he hath gone and made his moan heaven- 
 ward, with free submission to the rightful Disposer of all 
 things, and he hath been so liberally supplied, as makes 
 him very confident the best way to obtain any mercy, or 
 supply, is to be content to be without it : and he is per- 
 suaded nothing sets God's mercies further off, than want 
 of free submission to want them. Certainly God will 
 never be behind-hand with us. Let our care be to build 
 His house, and let Him alone to build ours. 
 
 " Fourthly, That none ever was, or ever shall be, a 
 loser by Jesus Christ. Many have lost much for Him, 
 but never did, never shall any lose by Him. Take this 
 for a certainty, whatsoever probabilities of outward com- 
 forts we leave, whatsoever outward advantages we balk, 
 that we may glorify Him in our services, and enjoy Him 
 in His ordinances more than others where we could, we 
 shall receive an hundredfold in this life. 'Tis a sad thing 
 to see how little Christ is trusted or believed in the world : 
 men will trust Him no farther than they can see Him, 
 and will leave no work for faith. Hath He not a 
 
ALLEINE'S SETTLEMENT. 
 
 91 
 
 thousand ways, both outward and inward, to make up a 
 little outward disadvantage to us ? What doth our faith 
 serve for ? Have any ventured themselves upon Him in 
 His way, but He made good every word of the promise 
 to them ? Let us therefore exercise our faith, and stay 
 ourselves upon the promise, and see if ever we are 
 ashamed of our hope. 
 
 " Fifthly, That what is wanting in the means, God will 
 make up in the blessing. This I take for a certain 
 truth, while a man commits himself and his affairs to God, 
 and is in a way that God put him into : now if a man 
 have but a little income, if he have a great blessing, 
 that's enough to make it up. We must not account 
 mercies by the bulk. What if another have a pound to 
 my ounce, if mine be gold for his silver, I will never 
 change with him. As 'tis not bread that keeps men alive, 
 but the word of blessing that proceedeth out of the mouth 
 of God ; so 'tis not the largeness of the means, but the 
 blessing of the Lord that maketh rich. Oh ! if men i 
 did but believe this, they would not grasp so much of the 
 world as they do. Well, let others take their course, and 
 we will take ours, to wait upon God by faith and prayer, 
 and rest in His promise ; and I am confident that is the 
 way to be provided for. Let others toil to enlarge their 
 income (but alas, they will find they go not the right way 
 to work), we will bless God to enlarge our blessing, and 
 I doubt not but we shall prove the gainers. 
 
 " Sixthly, That every condition hath its snares, crosses, 
 and troubles, and therefore we may not expe6l to be 
 without them, wherever we be; only that condition is most 
 eligible that hath fewest and least. I cannot object any- 
 thing against the proposal of Taunton, but the meanness 
 of the maintenance i but if our income be but short, we 
 
92 
 
 ALLEINES SETTLEMEN-r. 
 
 can, I hope, be content to live answerably. We must 
 fare the meaner, that will be all the inconvenience that I 
 know, and truly I hope we are not of the nature of that 
 animal, that hath his heart in his belly. I know how 
 Daniel thrived by his water and pulse, and think a mean 
 diet is as wholesome to the body, yea, and far less hurtful 
 than a full and liberal is ; and persuade myself it would be 
 no such hard matter for us contentedly to deny our flesh 
 in this respecSl. But let us consider how little and utterly 
 inconsiderable this inconvenience is, in comparison of 
 those we must reckon upon meeting with, if God cast us 
 into another place ; and whether this be not a great deal 
 less than the trouble we shall have for want of comfort- 
 able and Christian society, for want of the frequent and 
 quickening means we shall here have, in wrangling and 
 contending with the covetous, or else losing our dues, in 
 the railings and scandalous and malicious reports, that are 
 we see raised upon the best, by the wicked in most places, 
 in their contentions about their right to the sacraments, in 
 our entanglement in the cares and troubles of this life, 
 &c., all which we should be here exempted from. Upon 
 these and the like considerations, I find my heart very 
 much inclined to accept of their offer at Taunton. I 
 beseech thee to weigh, and thoroughly consider the 
 matter, and tell me impartially thy thoughts, and which 
 way thy spirit inclines, for I have always resolved the 
 place I settled in should be thy choice, and to thy con- 
 tent. The least intimation of thy will to the contrary, 
 shall overbalance all my thoughts of settling there, for I 
 should account it the greatest unhappiness if I should thus 
 settle, and thou shouldst afterwards be discontented at 
 the straitness of our condition. But I need not have 
 writ this, hadst not thou fully signified thy mind already 
 
ALLEINE'S SETTLEMENT. 
 
 93 
 
 to me, I had never gone so far as I have. Well, the 
 Lord vi'hose we are, and whom we serve, do with us as 
 it shallseem good unto Him. We are always as mindful 
 as is possible of thee here, both together and apart. Cap- 
 tain Luke desired me to entreat thee to meet him one two 
 hours in a day, for the commemoration of mercies upon 
 the twenty-third day of every month. Send word to me 
 of their resolution at Taunton, in two letters, lest possibly 
 one of them should miscarry, though never a one did yet. 
 I dare not think of settling under ;^6o* at Taunton, and 
 surely it cannot be less. I have written as well as [ 
 could on a sudden my mind to thee. I have been so 
 large in delivering my judgment, that I must thrust up my 
 affections into a corner. Well, though they have but a 
 corner in my letter, I am sure they have room enough in 
 my heart ; but I must conclude. The Lord keep thee, 
 my dear, and cherish thee for ever in His bosom. Fare- '^ 
 well, mine own soul, 
 
 " I am ever thine own heart, 
 
 " Jos. Alleine." 
 " Oxon, May 27, 1655." 
 
 * Although he only anticipated this, he aftually received ;^8o, 
 which, it appears, was raised by voluntary contributions. — (Life, 
 p. 99.) This, though small when measured by the scale of alms- 
 giving which he thought it right to maintain in a parish where there 
 were so many poor, will appear to have been in reality no very mean 
 stipend when the different value of money in those days is taken into 
 account. 
 
 Dr. Hook remarks on it thus : — " When the Dissenters had aided 
 in the rebellion, he, as a zealous Puritan, was provided for out of the 
 confiscated property of the church." 
 
 Ecclesiastical Biography : containing the Lives of Ancient Fathers 
 and Modern Divines, interspersed with notices of Heretics and 
 Schismatics. 
 
94 
 
 ALLEINES SE-TTLEMENr. 
 
 Theodosia consented to these views. In a few 
 weeks Mr. Allelne is seen in Taunton streets again, 
 and shortly after that we hear of his ordination. 
 
 In the early days of Presbyterian ascendency, 
 young ministers, who had been nominated by patrons 
 or ele6led by parishes, presented themselves for 
 ordination or indu6lion before a committee of 
 ministers, formed under the sandlion of the West- 
 minster Assembly. After a time, it was voted to 
 be inconvenient for the gate of the ministry to be 
 in the charge of Presbyterians only, because they 
 would allow Presbyterians only to enter it. It 
 was Cromwell's principle that all able and godly 
 preachers, of what " tolerable opinion soever they 
 Vv'ere," provided they were not openly opposed to 
 the reigning Government, or the accepted orthodoxy 
 of the day, should be on equal terms in the State. 
 In order to this, by an ordinance dated March 20, 
 1653, the powers of the old clerical committee were 
 transferred to " the Triers," a new examining 
 board, approved by the council or the parliament, 
 and consisting of divines and laymen of various 
 religious persuasions.* This commission held 
 its sessions in London, but sub-commissioners 
 were employed to ad for it in distant places.f 
 
 * Scobel, p. 279, 
 
 -}- " That a certain number of ministers and others be appointed 
 to sit in every county, to examine, judge, and approye all such per- 
 
ALLEINES SETTLEMENT. 
 
 9S 
 
 The Triers have been burlesqued as endea- 
 vouring 
 
 " To find, in lines of beard and face, 
 The physiognomy of grace ; 
 And by the sound of twang and nose, 
 If all be sound within disclose.'" 
 
 They certainly owed their office to arbitrary 
 power, and sometimes exercised its functions in a 
 narrow spirit. Amongst them were some who 
 thought "grace" in a minister atoned for the com- 
 parative absence of " gifts ;" and others, of whom 
 complaint might have been made in the words 
 of John Howe, — " It is not enough that a man 
 should say to them, Sibho\tth ; but he must say 
 Shibho\tth.y or theywillslay him for an Ephraimite." 
 Yet, when you study the list of eminent men who 
 were on the commission — " the acknowledged 
 flower of English Puritanism"* — you would feel 
 unable to believe that they would eledl incompetent 
 
 sons as shall be called to preach the Gospel." — Order of the House, 
 April 5, 1653. Whitelock, p. 5^8. This order with reference to 
 the appointment of Triers " in e'very county,'''' never appears to have 
 been fully carried out; for John Goodwin, whose Arminian principles 
 brought him into trouble from the London Commissioners, calls 
 them " hyper-archepiscopal, and super-metropolitan," and complains 
 of them for holding their sittings exclusively in London. Bacraviorrtf, 
 or the Tryers (or Tormentors) Tried and Cast, 1657, p. 25, There 
 must have been some ground for the charge, although it was over- 
 stated. 
 
 * Carlyle's Cromwdl, vol. iii., p. 323. 
 
9 6 ALLEINES SETTLEMENT. 
 
 deputies to serve in the remoter counties. There 
 is ample evidence to show that in the main the 
 Triers performed their task with thoroughness and 
 with tenderness, rejecting no appHcants who were 
 good and competent ministers of rehgion, whether 
 Presbyterian, Independent, Prelatist, or Baptist, 
 — unless, indeed, though good and competent in 
 other respedts, their avowed opinions were dangerous 
 to the ruling powers. 
 
 Through this " strait passage" Mr. Alleine had 
 to pass when down in Somersetshire in the month of 
 August. Among the local Triers were Thomas 
 Lye, M.A., of Wadham College, then minister of 
 Chard ; William Thomas, M.A., redlor of Ubleigh, 
 the friend of Bishop Bull ;* and Edward Bennett, 
 M.A., of New Inn Hall, then minister of South 
 Petherton. When we find a detailed account of 
 the ordeal, we may exped: to see connected with it 
 the name of Henry Jessey, M.A., the well-known 
 Baptist minister, who was then re6tor of St. George's, 
 Southwark ; for just at this time he was on a 
 visit to the Baptist churches in the neighbourhood. 
 He was one of the most famous members of the 
 Supreme Court of Triers ; and it would have been 
 strange if the deputies, whom he had helped to 
 appoint, knowing him to be near, had not invited 
 him to take part on the occasion, — an occasion in 
 
 * Nelson's Life of Dr. George Bull, p. 15. 
 
ALLEINE'S settlement:. 
 
 91 
 
 which he would feel peculiar interest from his 
 knowledge of Mr. Alleine, gained by visits to 
 Corpus Christi. But this is conjedlure ; we only 
 know that Alleine passed through the trial without 
 obstacle, and was, at the close, presented with 
 parchments, to certify that he was confirmed in 
 his appointment by authority of council. 
 
 He was a Presbyterian, and therefore had yet 
 to be ordained by the presbytery. From Philip 
 Henry's account of the first stages in his own 
 ministerial course, we learn that it was usual for 
 this to take place after receiving the license of the 
 State from the Triers.* The process opened with 
 a new series of examinations. When the candidate 
 appeared before the neighbouring presbyters, in- 
 quiry was made as to " his experience of the work 
 of grace in his heart." Verses in the Hebrew 
 and Greek Scriptures were given him to read and 
 construe. He was examined in logic, natural 
 philosophy, and systematic divinity. To test his 
 skill in exposition, his opinion was asked on some 
 obscure text in Scripture. A case of conscience 
 was stated for him to solve. He was questioned 
 in church history. He was requested to prepare 
 in Latin a thesis on some given subjedl, to be 
 read at the next meeting ; and, lastly, certificates 
 
 * Philip Henry's Life. Appendix. He was ordained in 1657, 
 two years later than Alleine. 
 
 H 
 
98 ALLEINES SETTLEMENT. 
 
 of good character were required from the university, 
 and also from well-known ministers. After all 
 this, the adual ordination service was appointed 
 to take place a month later. A written announce- 
 ment of the approaching solemnity, accompanied 
 with a notice to the following effed:, was read on 
 the next Sunday from the pulpit, and afterwards 
 nailed on the church-door : — 
 
 " If any man can produce any just exceptions 
 against the doflrine or life of Mr. Joseph Alleine, 
 or any sufficient reason why he may not be or- 
 dained, let him certify the same to the clerk of the 
 presbytery, and it shall be heard and considered." 
 
 No objection arising, Mr. Alleine was set 
 apart to the ministry on the day specified, at a 
 public association meeting held at Taunton ;* the 
 nature and order of the service being the same 
 as adopted by modern Dissenters. Such were the 
 forms through which, in the days of Cromwell, 
 a young Levite had to pass before he entered upon 
 the exercise of his calling. 
 
 One objed in life was now gained ; but he had 
 yet another in view. Thoughtful people, with 
 much concern, saw him every fortnight set out 
 for a ride of twenty- five miles, on some mysterious 
 errand, into the country. It was an exciting fadl, 
 especially (if we may descend to a thing so trivial), 
 
 * Mr. Alleine's account. 
 
ALLEINES SETTLEMENr. 
 
 99 
 
 when the state of the roads was considered. So 
 primitive were they that, according to one authority, 
 " it would not have cost more to make them 
 navigable, than fit for carriages ;"* and, according 
 to another, after a hard frost, the unhappy traveller 
 had " to lead his horse with one hand, and with 
 the other to use a strong staff for breaking the 
 ice, nine miles out of ten."f The autumn rains 
 were beginning to fall, the rural journeys were not 
 beginning to slacken. What would become of the 
 minister, and why, oh why, did he perform this 
 penance ? Mr. Newton was in the secret, as 
 perhaps you are ; had some talk with him on the 
 subjedl of the expedition, and then advised him 
 to get married. Knowing that through his lavish 
 generosity he was not yet able to furnish a house, 
 he drew a touching pidure of his own widowed and 
 lonely life,:j: and urged that he and Theodosia 
 should have their home at the vicarage. His 
 eloquence prevailed. They were married on the 
 4th of 06lober, 1655, "contrary to our purpose," 
 remarks Theodosia, "we resolving to have remained 
 much longer single." They became his guests, 
 
 * Such was the complaint, even when civilization had marched 
 the stage of a century beyond this time. — Speech of Thomas 
 Prowse, Esq., in the House of Commons, when Taunton applied 
 for a Turnpike A61, in 1752. 
 
 f Locke's MS. Savage's edition of Toulmin's History of Taunton, 
 j66 ; Roberts's Life of Monmouth, vol. ii., p. 295. 
 
 J Mr. Newton's second wife died December 31st, 1645. 
 
 H 2 
 
lOO ALLEINKS SE7rLEMENT. 
 
 and he " entertained them courteously for the space 
 of two years." 
 
 To their honour and to his own infamy, Mr. 
 Wood seems to have darted all the venom of his 
 nature into the account he has left of this lady 
 as well as of her husband. Before he died he seems 
 to have relented somewhat ; for, in a manuscript 
 of his, preserved in the Ashmole Museum, he 
 says: — " Theodosia Alleine was accounted among 
 her partie, a religious woman, and a good neigh- 
 bour." This praise was well deserved ; for she was 
 her husband's true helper and solace in all his life 
 of manifold sacrifice and benefadion, in all his 
 labours and imprisonments, in all his last long 
 agonies, and much of our knowledge of his personal 
 history we owe to her pen. 
 
 Amongst the letters of congratulation Alleine 
 received on his marriage, was one from an old 
 college friend, who said that he had some thoughts 
 of copying his example, but wished to be wary, 
 and would therefore take the freedom of asking 
 him to describe the inconveniences of a married life. 
 He replied, — " Thou wouldst know the incon- 
 veniences of a wife, and I will tell thee. First 
 of all, whereas thou risest constantly at four in 
 the morning, or before, she will keep thee till 
 about six ; secondly, whereas thou usest to study 
 fourteen hours in the day, she will bring thee to 
 eight or nine ; thirdly, whereas thou art wont to 
 
^LLEINPS SETTLEMENr. lOI 
 
 forbear one meal at least In the day for thy studies, 
 she will bring thee to thy meat. If these are not 
 mischiefs enough to affright thee, I know not what 
 thou art." 
 
 " At the end of two years," writes his wife, 
 " hoping to be more useful in our station, we 
 took a house, and I, having; always been bred , 
 to work, undertook to teach a school, and had 
 many tablers* and scholars, our family being seldom 
 less than twenty, and many times thirty ; my 
 school usually fifty or sixty of the town and other 
 places." f And the Lord was pleased to bless 
 us exceedingly in our endeavours ; so that many 
 were converted in a few years that were before 
 strangers to God. All our scholars called him 
 father ; and indeed he had far more care of them 
 than most of their natural parents, and was most 
 tenderly affe6tionate to them, but especially to their 
 souls." 
 
 This happy period of his life was still further 
 brightened by a few special friendships. One or 
 two of his friends we will name now on our way 
 to the description of certain events in which 
 perhaps they may have to take a part. His 
 most intimate companion was Mr. John Norman, 
 
 * Boarders. 
 
 f " The daughters of gentlemen of good ranke far and near." — 
 Letter written by " a Conformable minister," his familiar acquaintance. 
 
I O 2 ^LLEINKS SETTLEMENT. 
 
 minister of St. Mary's, Bridgewater. He was 
 a strong thinker, a delicate casuist, and became 
 well known through the country for the piety and 
 scholarship that shone in his life and writings.* 
 He had been acquainted with Alleine at Oxford, 
 although he was there much his senior, and took 
 his master's degree when the other had not long 
 matriculated. They were like brothers, and right 
 glad were they to be neighbours. Mrs. Alleine 
 always called him " My brother Norman," because, 
 it is said, her sister had been his first wife. His 
 present wife was daughter of Humphrey Blake, 
 and niece to the great admiral. 
 
 Another of his friends, although in a more dis- 
 tant and reverential way, was the Lady Farewell, 
 of Hill Bishops, who was granddaughter to the 
 Duke of Somerset, Lord Protedlor in the time of 
 Edward the Sixth. She was frequently seen at 
 Taunton Church. Warm was the welcome that 
 he was wont to receive at her home, — 
 
 " The house, quaint-gabled, hid in rooky trees ;" 
 
 and many were the opportunities there enjoyed 
 of refined and graceful intercourse, " san6tified 
 by the word of God and by prayer." After the 
 
 * Christ's Commission Officer, 8vo., 1658. Warning to God's 
 Watchmen, 8vo., 1659. Cases of Conscience, 8vo., p. 400. Family 
 Governors exhorted to Family Godliness. Christ Confessed, 1665. 
 
ALLEINES SErrLEMENT. IO3 
 
 death of this lady, in 1660, Mr. Newton thus 
 magnified her excellences, in a letter addressed 
 to her son ; he had just been speaking of her 
 husband, Sir George, who had died twelve years 
 before her. 
 
 *' They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in 
 death (I rest assured) they are not divided. 
 
 " Indeed they were awhile divided, as she was left 
 a solitary turtle in a vale of tears ; where she lived, 
 not in pleasure, but in a stri6t performance (not of the 
 easiest only, but) of the hardest and severest private 
 duties, and in diligent attendance on the publique ordi- 
 nances, in her own and in the neighbour congregations ; 
 under which, while some were hardened, she melted, and 
 closely dropt many a silent, secret tear (I speake it upon 
 good assurance), which, though she covered, God 
 observed and received into His bottle. 
 
 " How glad she was on all occasions to go up to the 
 house of the Lord, to which she went in a religious 
 equipage, attended with her train. She said not ite, 
 but eamus ; not ' Go ye,' but ' Let us go.' In every holy 
 duty she was first, being resolved, with Joshua: ' I and 
 my house will serve the Lord."" Not ' my house, and 
 not I;' not ' I, and not my house ;' not * my house and 
 then I ;' but ' I, I first, and then my house ; I and my 
 house ; I, with my house, will serve the Lord.' 
 
 " Among many other graces which I have not room 
 to mention, her humility was orient. Herein she was 
 an exa?nple, I may say, tantum non, beyond example. 
 Though she had many things to stand upon — birth, title, 
 education, &c. — so that she might have said, with 
 
1 04 ALLEINE'S SETTLEMENr. 
 
 reference to others of her quality, ' Whereinsoever they 
 are bold^ I am hold also ;' yet she seemed not to know it. 
 She had exa6lly learned Bernard's golden rule, which 
 he illustrates with a similie : ^ Js he that goes in at a 
 little low door^ it matters not how much he stoops^ but if he 
 beare himself one inch too highy he is in danger.' So she 
 regarded not how low she stoopt, nor how far she 
 condescended, in doing any office^ or in bearing any 
 burthen^ wherein she might fulfil the law of love. 
 
 '* To say the truth, her whole demeanour was so 
 incomparably sweetened with this amiable grace, that 
 it was strangely taking and obliging, with all that had 
 the happiness and honour to converse with her. And 
 for her habit ; she was clothed with humility — that was 
 her richest ornament. She did not (as TertulUan speaks 
 of some) wear grounds and groves and manors on her backe. 
 She look't not after the adorning of the outward man, 
 either with garish or with gorgeous rayment ; but after 
 the adorning of the inward inan^ with holynesse and grace, 
 which is of great price in the sight of God ; whose pure 
 eyes ladies and gentlewomen should rather strive to please, 
 than the wanton eyes of men. 
 
 " She was a lady of a choice temper, and had a 
 singular command upon her passions, transcendantly 
 beyond the ordinary measure of her sex. She had 
 the govern?7ient of her own spirit^ and the possession of her 
 soul in patience, while others use their soul in passion. 
 No injuries of tnen transported her into those wilde extra- 
 vagancies and excesses, which some are carried out into, 
 upon very slight occasions. And when the hand of God 
 was on her in any way, she humbled herself. Humble 
 she was in the most flourishing and prosperous state, but 
 then especially she humbled herself. She was not only 
 
ALLEINE'S SETTLEMENT. IO5 
 
 hum'il'iata^ but hum'iUs too. She stoopt and kisst the rod, 
 was dumb and said nothing; not a word either to just'ifie 
 herself^ or to charge God foolishly. Tn her last sicknesse, 
 she refle6led in her thoughts, and her discourses, on 
 the long time of health she had enjoyed, that she might 
 take occasion thence, both to bring down and to lift up 
 her own heart. To bring it down to meekness and 
 submission^ to lift it up to thankfulnesse. To rayse it and 
 to enlarge it (as she did) in the high prayses of the God 
 of her mercy. 
 
 " As her meekness and humility., so her charity 
 abounded. To her power^ yea.^ and beyond her power some- 
 times, she was willing of herself. For the poor she 
 devised liberal things^ considered them^ observed and studied 
 their condition, and drew out (not her purse only but) 
 her very soul to the needy. She made her friends of 
 the unrighteous mammon., which she dispensed to the 
 righteous^ especially to the household of faith . 
 
 " I wander in so wide a field that I forget the narrow 
 limits of a short epistle. I shall perhaps be twitted with 
 the gate of Mlndus^ and be told that it is wider than 
 the city. As Tygranis said in derision of the Roman 
 forces under Lucullus — ' This is too little for an army, 
 and too much for an erabass ;' — this is too little for a life, 
 and too much for an epistle.' .... 
 
 " Let me take up with that allusion of the bishop of 
 Winchester^ Dr. White, who preach't Oueen Marye's 
 Funeral Sermon j wherein, comparing her with her un- 
 paralleled successor, Oueen Elizabeth^ he gave the latter 
 a few cold faint praises. ' But yet,' said he, ' (according 
 to my text), / commend the dead rather than the living, 
 and It will alwayes be true, Mary hath chosen the better 
 part.' Sir, I may confidently say the same of this our 
 
+ 
 
 1 06 ALLEINE'S SETTLEMENT. 
 
 eminently gracious Lady A'lary., and with far greater 
 
 truth than he, as he applyed it : the better part she chose, 
 
 and the better part she hath, yea, more than the better 
 
 part. She is dissolved^ and is with Christ, which is best of 
 
 all. And, though the latter days in which she liv'd were 
 
 rough and boysterous, she dyed in peace, and in a time of 
 
 ^ peace. For, in a lucid interval, when all was husht, she 
 
 ( stole away into the place of silence. She was not gather'd 
 
 ( by a wanton hand, nor blown down by a furious wind 
 
 ' while she was green, but being fully ripe, she dropt 
 
 away. Fragrant and sweet she is, now she is but 
 
 newly fallen j but she will be sweeter yet, when she is 
 
 ( mellowed. 
 
 " Sir, you are happy beyond many others of your rank, 
 that you had two such worthy patternes. I beseech you 
 eye them well, and follow them as closely and exailly as 
 you can. So live, and so walk, according to the faith 
 and holynesse which you have seen exemplified in your 
 excellent parents, that you may meet them in the great 
 day of account, with joy^ and not with grief That you 
 may stand on the same hand of Jesus Christ at the time 
 ! of separation, and sit on the same throne to judge the 
 world, with them and others of the saints, and not to be 
 , judged by them. O, what a sad thing would it be 
 if, while your parents, both of them, are sitting on the 
 bench, you should be standing at the bar ! And if you 
 should be judged and condemned by them, though but 
 (as some expound that place of the Apostle Paul) by their 
 example. Let this consideration quicken you to walke 
 as they walked, and to be a follower of them as they were 
 of Christ ; that keeping on the way wherein they went, 
 you may at length attain to the place where they are. 
 And when you also come to dye, you may sleep with your 
 
ALLEINES SETTLEMENT. 
 
 107 
 
 fathers^ and be gathered to your fathers ; your body to the 
 
 same earth, and your soul to the same heaven." * 
 
 I ^^ 
 
 * From the epistle dedicatory to a sermon entitled " Magna Charta : 
 or, the Christian's Charter Epitomized, in a Sermon preached at the 
 Funerall of the Right Worshipfull tlie Lady Mary Farewell, at Hill- 
 Bishops, near Taunton, by Geo. Newton, minister of the Gospel 
 there. 
 
 D. FareweLL obllt Maria saLVtIs In anno 
 Hos annos posltos VIXIt et Ipsa VaLe." 
 
 This sermon is now so rare, that I have not been able to meet with 
 acopy, and the above extracts are from a MS. lent by the Rev. William 
 Arthur Jones, who is, by marriage, one of the representatives of the 
 old Farewell family. To this gentleman, also, I am under obliga- 
 tions for other instances of kind assistance in research. 
 
 -y^ 
 
chapter VI. 
 
 OTortis antr »aps; of tfie ^last pun'tansf* 
 
 " Although they ivere not understood, 
 Tetfrom their spirit and their blood 
 Didflo-Tv a fair and fertile flood 
 Of thoughts and deeds both great and good,'"' 
 
 THOMAS JORDAN. 1 645. 
 
 O men have been more maligned and 
 
 less understood than those who were 
 
 historically the last Puritans and the 
 
 first Dissenters. Their closing days 
 
 were so vexed with the necessities of confli6l, flight, 
 
 and melancholy change, that they had little time 
 
 < or inclination to write about themselves. The 
 
 ', popular knowledge of their principles has often 
 
 I been drawn from the writings of men whose esti- 
 
 , mate of them was only as the estimate of Raphael 
 
 ' by a blind critic, or of Newton by his dog 
 
 ', Diamond. Vidlorious enemies were their first 
 
 historians, — and " when the man, and not the lion 
 
 was thus the painter," It was easy to foretel with 
 
WORDS, AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 109 
 
 what party all the virtues, and all the nobilities 
 would be found. It becomes our duty to look 
 into our old family cabinets and libraries, and from 
 the moth-eaten letters and tradls of our fathers to 
 find out what manner of men they really were, how 
 they used to spend a day, whether they did the 
 eccentric things imputed to them, and if so, why. 
 From such sources let us seek to know what were 
 the opinions and manners that prevailed at Taunton 
 when Alleine was there, and while Puritanism was 
 putting forth some of its later forms. At that 
 period there was scarcely a town in England where 
 those forms were more broadly refledled. 
 
 You have before been reminded, that the radical 
 principle of Puritanism was " reverence for the 
 stridl letter of the Scripture, as God's direc^t mes- 
 sage to each individual man, and as forming our 
 sole, final and absolute authority in religion." 
 We may obje6t to some applications that were 
 made of this do6lrine. We may think that the 
 Bible is intended to rule us chiefly by its evange- 
 lical revelations, which, operating in the heart by 
 the power of the Holy Spirit, become the regu- 
 lating forces of the life, adjusting themselves, few 
 and simple as they are, to the ever-changing con- 
 ditions of the outward state ; but many devout 
 scripturists betrayed a tendency to regard the legis- 
 lation of the Bible as proceeding on the system of 
 a precise rule for a precise question, something like 
 
no WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 that of the Mussulman code, with its 75,000 spe- 
 cial precepts. They were unquestionably right in 
 the respe6l they paid to the plainly stated laws and 
 precedents of Scripture ; but in attempting to find 
 laws and precedents to govern every minute and 
 particular a(5lion, they were often mistaken in 
 thinking they had found what they sought, and 
 were often in needless bondage. Still, with all 
 their faults, " the Bible, and the Bible alone, was 
 the religion" of the Puritans; and their very faults 
 grew out of this principle misunderstood, or mis- 
 applied. Now, look at some of its every-day 
 workings, as it was understood by the people of 
 Taunton. 
 
 They, and those of like faith elsewhere, never 
 called their ministers^ in distin^iion from other 
 Christians^ " -priests^' or " clergymen^ " A 
 priest," said one, whom they held in high esteem, 
 y. "importeth a sacrifice."* In their opinion, the 
 only sacrifices accepted under the Gospel are 
 the sacrifices offered by all believers ; so, amongst 
 the followers of Christ, the people are the priests. 
 — I Peter ii. 5. "Clergyman," was also a term 
 which, if used by them at all, would, by the same 
 Scripture rule, have had the same wide meaning. 
 " Poor men !" said one of their writers, speaking of 
 the Episcopalian ministers in reference to the mem- 
 
 * Latimer. 
 
WORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. Til 
 
 bers of their communion, " are you the clergy, and 
 not they ? Read i Peter v. 3 : ' Not as lords 
 over God's clergy,' ( KXljpwv). Are they the laity, 
 and not youF Read Romans ix. 25 : ^ I will call 
 them my laity,' (Xaoy yuov)." * Out of such inter- 
 pretations of texts relating to the priesthood 
 sprang that dislike of priestly vestments, which 
 sometimes startles us by its extravagance. Mitre, 
 crosier, cap, hood, surplice, were all denounced as 
 " instruments of a foolish shepherd," only because 
 they were the symbols of a priestly caste. j- 
 
 They had no fixed forms of prayer y because it was 
 said the Scriptures have prescribed none ; and we 
 have already seen that in their view there was no 
 other prescribing authority in existence. When 
 two coUedls were printed and recommended to be 
 read in churches, one on " the horrid decollation of 
 King Charles the First," and the other on the 
 Restoration, Alleine had resolved to read them, but 
 owing to the strong opposition that was excited, 
 felt it prudent to desist. 
 
 They observed no saints' days, because the Scrip- 
 tures appointed none ; but many were their days 
 of special religious solemnity, because this was 
 the custom of inspired men, and what they did as 
 well as what they said from the afflatus of inspira- 
 tion, was viewed as having the authority of law. 
 
 * Preface to Henry Jessey's Life, 1672. f Vavasor Powel. 
 
112 TVORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 For example, they observed many fasts, including 
 the monthly fast appointed by Parliament during 
 the unsettled state of the nation ; and many festi- 
 vals, such as the day of rejoicing to commemorate 
 the happy close of their siege. On such occasions, 
 the people met early in their own houses to pray,* 
 and then crowded to the church. Days of private 
 thanksgiving or fasting were also kept; and on one 
 of these days, George Trosse, a gentleman com- 
 moner of Pembroke College, who was often at 
 Taunton, is said to have spent eleven hours upon 
 his knees. f 
 
 They observed no rites and ceremonies^ but such 
 as were appointed by the plain decrees of the New 
 Testament. As might be expected, the ministry 
 of ceremonies was displaced by the ministry of the 
 Word. This led to the sin of long sermons, of 
 which the critics of Puritanism complain so loudly. 
 Yet it should be admitted that this was not 
 exclusively a Puritan habit, but a fashion of the 
 times, of which all Protestant secfts were guilty. 
 Alleine sometimes preached for two hours, but 
 Isaac Barrow has kept his patients three hours and 
 a-half. The young people were sometimes warned 
 against regarding the sermon as a " meer pass- 
 time." 
 
 There was no organ allowed at St. Alary' s 
 
 * Oliver Heywood, MS. f Hallet's Funeral Sermon for Trosse. 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. I I3 
 
 Church. The reason for this may be given in the 
 language of a Puritan doftor : — " There is not one 
 word of institution in the New Testament for 
 instrumental musique in the worship of God ; and 
 because the holy God rejeds all that He doth not 
 command in His worship, He now, therefore, in 
 effed, says to us, ^ I will not hear the melody of 
 thine organs.'"* Vocal music they cultivated, -k 
 because they had distind New Testament authority 
 for it, and the fame of the psalmody in Taunton 
 Church rang far and wide. 
 
 They had no religious reverence for the mere 
 building in which worship was offered. A per- 
 son entering the church while Mr. Alleine was 
 preaching, would see every man there keeping 
 his steeple-hat on. The old "Mercuries" men- 
 tion it. Many devout people were scandalised 
 by it. When Colonel Turner, a gallant Cavalier, 
 was hanged for burglary, he told the crowd 
 gathered round the gallows that his mind derived 
 great consolation from the thought that he " had 
 always taken his hat off when he went into a 
 church ;" but to whatever extremity the Puritan 
 might be brought, he had no such consolation in 
 reserve. "Some holy Nonconformists I have known," 
 says Mr. Baxter, " that would rarely mention 
 God but with their hats put off, or bowing down 
 
 * Cotton Mather. 
 I 
 
114 ^ORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 their heads, and it hath often affe6ted me more 
 than a sermon."* Yet the sight of these holy men 
 at church would have alarmed the religious sensi- 
 bilities of Colonel Turner, for they would certainly 
 have worn their hats while listening to the minister ; 
 though, when he commenced prayer, they would 
 have uncovered. How was it ? In those days, 
 let it be understood, wearing the hat in-doors was 
 an ordinary habit, and the lords on whom Mr. 
 Pepys bowed attendance never thought it implied 
 discourtesy to do so even at the dinner table ; 
 but adtually taking it off with reference to any- 
 thing religious was thought to imply worship, — 
 taking it off at church, merely because it was a 
 church, was thought to imply worship to the mere 
 building. These precisians only meant to show 
 their reverence for the Scriptures, and to utter their 
 protest against the notion of specially consecrated 
 ground, because they believed the Scriptures had 
 declared it to be abolished. f Right or wrong, 
 
 * Baxter against Schism, Part II., p. 8, 1684. An Enquiry on 
 a Question relating to Divine Worship ; by Samuel Stoddon, 1682. 
 " Though I am against superstitions, I am against putting on your 
 hats in prayer." Mr. Jenkin's Farewell Sermons, 4to., 1662. In the 
 second volume of Farewell Sermons, 8vo., 1663, there is an engraving 
 showing a minister addressing a hatted congregation. 
 
 -f- John iv. 21. The Nonconformists also said that Christians 
 had a church in the house, as well as in the public building ; that 
 afts of worship belonged to the one place as to the other ; that the 
 places, therefore, had equal sacredness. — Rom. xvi. 5 ; Philemon. 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 115 
 
 they only afted in this respedl like the first reformers 
 of the church of England, whose true successors 
 and living representatives they were. In a rare old 
 book by Archbishop Parker, there is a wood-cut 
 representing that prelate preaching to a congrega- 
 tion of men all sitting with their hats on.* 
 
 'They looked with no favour on any kind of symboli- 
 cal beauty of form or colour in the stru6ture or 
 adornment of the churches. In Mr. Newton's 
 time, the glories of the stained windows, in which 
 the monks had taken so much pride, were nearly 
 all destroyed ; and those windows, to use the 
 language of the times, " were beautified with white 
 and bright glasse.""]" Such Gothic destru6liveness 
 arose out of a misapplied scripturism. One motive 
 to it was the sense the iconoclasts attached to such 
 instru6lions as are contained in the Epistle to the 
 Hebrews, which, as they understood them, taught 
 that the religion of Solomon's Temple, with its 
 types, emblems, and rich material splendours, was 
 now fulfilled in the fads of the Gospel, and super- 
 seded by a system of spiritual worship, which such 
 symbols would only hinder and becloud. Another 
 
 * De Antiquitate Britanniae Ecclesiae et Privlligiis Eccleslas 
 Cantuariensis cum Archiepiscopis Eiusdem. 70, an. dom. 1572, 
 folio Only twenty-one copies are known. 
 
 \ Expression used by Samuel Hinde to set forth how John Bruen, of 
 Bruen Stapleford, Esquire, reformed the Popish window of liis family 
 chapel. Life of Bruen. 1641. 
 
 I 2 
 
I I 6 WORDS AND WATS, OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 motive, still more strongly felt, was their intense 
 hatred of all things that might lead to Romanism. 
 They looked on such things just as the primitive 
 Christians looked on the relics of classic art, without 
 a thought of the genius they might display, but 
 only of the superstition they might foster, and 
 therefore gave them over to ruin or negled:. Here, 
 again, they did but follow the steps of the first 
 Anglican reformers. Few amongst them would or 
 could have carried these principles further than was 
 taught in the homily " Against peril of Idolatry, 
 and superfluous decking of Churches." " My little 
 children, saith St. John, deeply considering the 
 matter, keep yourselves from images, or idolls. 
 He saith not now, keep yourselves from idolatry, 
 as it were from the service and worshipping of 
 them, but from the very shape and likeness of 
 them .... think you, the persons who place 
 images or idolls in churches and temples, take good 
 heed to St. John's counsel ?" Thus, in many pas- 
 sages, wrote the homilist. Bishop Jewell. It was 
 natural, under the circumstances, that such prin- 
 ciples should by many be adopted without intelli- 
 gence, and carried out without discrimination. This, 
 therefore, led through the next century to the 
 destrudion in churches, not only of religious 
 images, but of many a noble work of art besides, 
 in glass, wood, and stone. Let us, however, be 
 fair to the Puritans. Many of the disfigurements 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 117 
 
 of churches that are assigned to the period of the 
 Cornmonwealth, belong in reaHty to the period of 
 the Reformation ;* many others were wrought for 
 which no religious party is accountable, but which • 
 were the reckless deeds of rioters, in the time 
 of civil war ; and in all cases where works of 
 art not Romanistic in their design were shattered, 
 it was in diredl violation of the very ordinance for 
 the removal of Popish badges, in which it was 
 specified, " This ordinance shall not extend to any 
 image, pidure, or coat of arms, in glass, stone, or 
 otherwise, in any church, chapel, or churchyard, 
 set up by or engraven for a monument of, any 
 king, prince, nobleman, or other dead person, which 
 has not commonly been reputed or taken for a 
 
 saint."t 
 
 It must not be denied that serious evils were 
 
 developed under the reign of the Puritans, There j 
 
 was much intolerance, and at the same time there was 1 
 .... ' 
 
 much division in the church. Both sprang from a 
 
 harsh and mistaken application of their primary doc- 
 trine — that the laws of religion, and all that belongs 
 to it, must be taken from the written Word alone. 
 Spending their strength in attention to the letter of 
 the Scripture, they were apt to overlook the spirit of 
 
 ^'- Archasological Journal, vol. ii,, p. 244. Godwin on Ely Cathe- 
 dral. Catalogue of Bishops, 1601. Weaver's Monumental 
 Antiq., p. 18. 
 
 j- Husband's CoUeftions, p. 307. 
 
I I 8 TVORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 the Scripture ; giving all possible emphasis to its 
 truth, they were in danger of slighting its charity — 
 yet both are equally divine. The first result was 
 intolerance. " We have undoubtedly found in the 
 Bible," thought they, " certain great truths, and a 
 certain scheme of church order ; then for a man to 
 question those truths, or to deviate from this order, 
 is not so much a sin against us, as a sin against 
 God." " Polupiety, is Impiety."* The next 
 result was division. All history shows that what- 
 ever among an intelligent people demands religious 
 uniformity, doss, in the same degree, raise the 
 spirit of discord. Amongst the Puritans, not only 
 was this spirit of discord sometimes rampant as the 
 effedl of such intolerance, but as the efFe6l of the 
 reception and consequent perversion by intolerant 
 minds of another article of the Puritan creed, 
 namely, that the Bible being God's message to every 
 individual man, every man has a right to judge of 
 its meaning for himself. The article itself is glo- 
 riously true and important, but it is easy to see 
 that its operation in the hands of intolerant men, 
 exasperated by the intolerance of others, would 
 lead to much division, not only in faith, but in 
 feeling. One consequence was, that during the 
 Commonwealth a wonderful number of new se6ls 
 shot into consequence, some of them having strange 
 
 * Edwards. 
 
WORDS AND JVAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 119 
 
 and wonderful names, to which, perhaps, the 
 Royalist, Dr. Beaumont, has a sly allusion in his 
 catalogue of heresies, filling twenty-nine lines with 
 words like these : — 
 
 " Tertullianists, Arabics, Symmachists, 
 Homousiasts, Elxites, Origenians, 
 Valesians, Agrippinians, Catharists, 
 Hydroparastates, Patripassians, 
 
 Apostolics, Angelics, Chiliasts, 
 
 Somosatenian Paulianists." * 
 
 We think that the cure for religious division is 
 not renouncing the Biblical do6lrine of the Puritans, 
 but keeping it in the spirit of Christ. Many did 
 thus keep it, as we shall presently see ; many more 
 were more generous in practice than in theory ; but 
 the true nature of Christian liberty had yet to be 
 learned. 
 
 Sometimes this intolerance took the form of 
 church discipline. " Wondrous narrow " were the 
 laws of the churches, and very harsh was the occa- 
 sional dealing with offenders, thereby provoking 
 harsh recrimination. A few years after his settle- 
 
 * Ephraim Pagitt, in his Heresiography, describes between forty 
 and fifty se6ls. Another writer, evidently a more moderate man, 
 wrote a pamphlet with the following title, " A Discovery of Twenty- 
 nine Sefts here in London, all of which, exsept the first, are most 
 divellish and damnable." — Guildhall Library. 
 
 Edwards gives a list of 180 flagrant heresies; Baxter has also left 
 a doleful catalogue ; Ford, Vicars, and Featley have given equally 
 wonderful reports ; but the witnesses do not agree, and all make 
 very foolish distinctions. 
 
I 20 fVORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 ment, Mr. Alleine was much disturbed by an 
 instance of this kind, in which some of his relatives 
 were affedled. Cousin Tobie Alleine, with his 
 wife, Mistress Marie, were both Presbyterians at 
 Exeter. Mr. Lewis Stuckley, a gentleman of 
 ancient and knightly family, and one of the preachers 
 in the choir of the cathedral, was an Independent. 
 They went to *' behold his Gospel order ;" and in 
 the course of time joined his church. Gradually 
 they saw many things which they disapproved, be- 
 came irregular in attendance, and at last went back 
 with all repentance to their old pastor, Mr. Mark 
 Downes. They were therefore excommunicated 
 by the Independents ; and Mrs. Marie, a lady of 
 uncertain temper and much velocity of speech, was 
 " delivered over unto Satan." Then came forth a 
 pamphlet, bearing the tremendous title, " Truths 
 Manifest ; or a Full and Faithfull Narrative of all 
 passages relating to the Excommunication of Mrs. 
 Marie Alleine, lately delivered over unto Satan by 
 Mr. Lewis Stuckley and his Church at Exon ; with 
 a Brief Answer to Mr. Stuckley's Sermon." 8vo., 
 1658. This was followed by " Diotrephes, detedled, 
 corre6ted, and rejedted; and Archippus admonished 
 by a soft Answer to an angry Sermon and Book." 
 After that appeared "Truths Manifest Revived."* 
 A testimony to Mr. Tobie's " good name and 
 
 * These pamphlets are in the Bodleian Library. 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. I 2, 1 
 
 reputation " was published, and signed by the 
 sheriff, the mayor, and twenty-five aldermen and 
 burgesses ; but although he and his wife were 
 treated in a way most inquisitorial and severe, his 
 condud in the affair dees not appear to have been 
 without blame, and his spirit through the contro- 
 versy is certainly not to his credit. These matters 
 may seem to some to be trivial as the politics of a 
 rookery, but they are given here as specimens of 
 the unseemly confusion that might occasionally 
 occur under the dynasty of the Puritans, and from 
 a wish to be perfedtly fair in sketching their man- 
 ners, both bad and good. 
 
 It is now time to turn from the churches, that 
 we may dired our thoughts to the social life of the 
 first Nonconformists. You will there find that, 
 of many grotesque things imputed to them, some 
 were the pure inventions of festive malice, and 
 that others lose their look of absurdity when truly 
 understood. You exped to see the immortal 
 oddities of Hudibras start up before you ; you 
 exped: to meet half-gloomy, half-comic wonders, at 
 every step of your inquiry ; at the very beginning 
 you exped, at least, to find that George Newton's 
 people have outlandish names, such as Kill-sin 
 Pimple, or Weep-not Billings, for all the historians 
 from Hume to Macaulay have told you that 
 this was the fashion. They all appear to have been 
 mistaken. It may be allowed that names remotely 
 
122 TVORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 like these, because formed out of a religious dialedl, 
 were occasionally given by the settlers In Mas- 
 sachusetts to their children, and that a very few 
 might also have been given to children In England ; 
 it must be asserted, however, that where they were 
 in use, they were always imposed in infancy, and 
 never sele6ted by the parties themselves. Please 
 to remember, that If such names were worn by the 
 men and women of the Prote6torate, they had been 
 conferred upon them at the font in the reign of the 
 British Solomon. We have ample evidence that 
 the habit was occasional then, but it really seems to 
 have declined by the time of which we are writing. 
 If existent anywhere. It surely might have been 
 expedted in the place where those charged with 
 adopting it had their stronghold ; but not one such 
 name is to be found in the copious Taunton 
 register of that date, and not one in all the nume- 
 rous parochial registers of the same era which the 
 present writer has examined.* 
 
 Imagine yourself leaving Taunton Church on 
 some thanksgiving-day, and walking with a grave 
 burgher to his home. Take notes of what you 
 see. His life there, just as much as in public 
 
 * Confirmation of these statements will be found in Camden's 
 Remains, p. 42, 1629; Harris's Cromwell, p. 342; and Lower 
 on English Surnames. This writer gives instances of such names 
 from a Sussex jury list, which he assigns to about the year 1610, and 
 from the parochial register of Warbleton, 1617, 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. I 23 
 
 worship, is ruled by Scripture texts. Texts are 
 woven into all his conversation, for the language 
 of the Bible is with him the language of common 
 life ; he applies it to everything, and uses it most, 
 not as you might suppose, when most artificial, 
 but when most in earnest. Looking round, you 
 see texts painted on the doors and over the fire- 
 places, stamped on kettles and skillets, wrought 
 in garments, and even carved on the wooden cradle 
 in the corner where the child lies asleep. A 
 Nonconformist, who was young in Oliver's time, 
 after praising his father for great care in the 
 religious instru6lion of his children, adds, " Let 
 those Scriptures upon the chimney-stone in the 
 parlour be witness."* There were thirteen texts 
 there. In a few cases, as might have been expe6led, 
 satirists wrote merrily about this Puritan use of 
 texts, especially on their appearance in the ladies' 
 emb.roideries. A personage in one of the comedies 
 is represented as saying — 
 
 " Nay, Sir, she is a Puritan at her needle too : 
 She works religious petticoats ; for flowers, 
 She'll make church-histories ; besides. 
 My sleeves have such holy embroideries, 
 And are so learned, that I fear in time 
 All my apparel will be quoted by some pure instruftor/'f 
 
 In one of Beaumont and Fletcher's plays we read 
 
 * Life of John Machin, p. 19. f Jasper Mayne's City Match. 
 
I 24 WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 of " a neat historical shirt. *" From such passages 
 it appears that the custom was of earlier origin 
 than the period of the Commonwealth, although 
 it was then in the height of its observance. 
 
 You are not to infer from all this, that your 
 burgher friend leads a life of holy dulness or 
 illiteracy on account of his biblical notions. Why 
 should he ? He enjoys a recreative hour as freely 
 as any other man, thinking it lawful, however, not 
 so much because it is natural, as because he can 
 show you chapter and verse for it. " Recreation," 
 he will say, " is an exercise joined with the fear 
 of God, conversant with things indifferent, for the 
 preservation of bodily strength and the confirmation 
 of the mind in holiness. To this end hath the 
 Word of God permitted shooting (2 Sam. i. 18) ; 
 musical consort (Neh. vii. 67) ; putting forth 
 riddles (Judges xiv. 1 2) ; hunting of wild beasts 
 
 * Beaumont and Fletcher's Custom of the Court. The statements 
 given above are supported by the traditions and relics of three or 
 four Nonconformist families known to the author, in the west of 
 England. One venerable member of his former congregation, a 
 gentleman who lived to the age of ninety-four, used to tell of a 
 ramble he had when a boy over the old house of a Nonconformist 
 baronet, which was printed over in this way j and he remembered 
 how his youthful mind was impressed by an inscription in the 
 dormitory anciently used by the handmaidens of the family, and 
 which was intended to strike the eye the first thing in the morn- 
 ing, — " Arise, ye women y* are at ease." It is a wonder that 
 the witty enemies of the Nonconformists have not made more of 
 these things. 
 
JVORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. I 25 
 
 (Cant. ii. 15) ; searching out, or the contemplation 
 of, the works of God (i Kings iv. i,2)-"* 
 
 You find him almost insensible to the beautiful or 
 awful in art ; but not so m.uch from religious 
 scruples, as from strong religious excitement, and 
 the efredl of distrafting war. In time of war, 
 the best man thinks more of the forces that ensure 
 prote6lion than of the graces that decorate repose. 
 He is more likely to be occupied in barring his 
 gate, than in training the rose that clusters over it.f 
 
 On the same account you will find him indifferent 
 to written poetry. You are not likely to see a new 
 poem in his house. We are told, it is true, that 
 in the houses of a certain western town — 
 
 *' Poems were pasted up on every hall 
 
 As thick and thin as cobwebs on the wall :■ — - 
 
 Here you might view Haman in all his pride, 
 And, like a rogue, hanged and then dittified. 
 Each kitchen, parlour, chamber, were all drest here 
 With Samson, Joseph, Daniel, or Queen Hester." | 
 
 But this was a local accident, — these were the 
 effusions of an inspired parish clerk ; and Nathaniel 
 Miers, *^ the clarke that did the christenings "§ 
 in Mr. Newton's absence, was not inspired. If, 
 in any of the houses at Taunton in the time of 
 the Commonwealth, you saw amongst the broad 
 sheets on the wall, one that was covered over with 
 
 * Master Perkins. f Wilmott. 
 
 X Batt upon Batt : a Poem. 16S0. § Register ot'Mary Magdalen. 
 
I 26 WORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 what at the distance of a few yards looked like 
 poetry, a nearer approach would show you that 
 it certainly had not been sele6led for its poetical 
 merit. We owe most of our written poetry to the 
 remembrance in peace of past excitement ; but the 
 crisis of excitement is not itself the season when 
 poetry is most likely to be written or read. The 
 lives of the Puritans were often instinft with the 
 very soul of poetry ; only, " instead of singing it 
 like birds, they aded it like men."* Poetical 
 authorship was next to impossible amidst their 
 trials ; yet, even in this respeft, they were not 
 deficient in comparison with their opponents. They 
 had, at least, George Wither, John Milton, and 
 " the glorious dreamer," John Bunyan. 
 
 After the noon-day meal, your host confesses to 
 you his delight in goodly music^ and quotes in sup- 
 port of his views, the saying of one of his ministers: 
 " Of all beastes, saith ^lian, there is none that 
 delighteth not in harmony, save only the asse ; 
 strange would it be for men to love it not." Sing- 
 ing begins, and, perhaps, to the accompaniment of 
 the lute : but, although playing on the lute is men- 
 tioned by Alleine with approval, it was a question 
 with some of his neighbours whether they ought to 
 conform so far to the habits of the ungodly. At 
 a meeting which the members of the Baptist church 
 
 * Kingsley on Plays and Puritans. 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. I 2^ 
 
 at Taunton held with the members of sister churches 
 at the Bridgewater Association in 1655, the ques- 
 tion was proposed, " Whether a believing man or 
 woman, being head of a family in this day of the 
 Gospell, may keep in his or her house an instru- 
 ment or instruments of musique, playing on them, 
 or admitting others to play thereon ?" The answer 
 was, " It is the duty of the saints to abstain from 
 all appearance of evil, and not to make provision 
 for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof, to redeem 
 the time, and to do all to the glory of God ; and 
 though we cannot consider the uses of such instru- 
 , ments to be unlawful, yet we desire the saints to be 
 very cautious lest they transgress the aforesaid rules 
 in the use of it, and do that which may not be of 
 good report, and so give offence to their tender 
 brethren."* Keeping the "aforesaid rules" in 
 mind, your friend will venture to use the lute, and 
 invite you to join in a song, not, however, one of 
 the songs of this world. (When you have time, if 
 you have courage, look into one of the Roxburgh 
 or Luttrell Colle6lions of Songs of the Seventeenth 
 Century, preserved in the British Museum, and you 
 will soon see the reason.) Since all the living 
 literature of music was too tainted for the pure to 
 use, he gives out a canticle from a little black 
 volume, called '^ The Booke of Psalmes ; close and 
 
 * Baptist Church Book, Lyme Regis. 
 
128 fFORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 proper to the Hebrew ; smooth and pleasant for 
 the Metre ; plain and easy to the Tunes. By 
 W. B., 1654." Out of this book, Alleine and his 
 family were accustomed to sing after dinner, though 
 sometimes he would substitute the 'Te Deum, which 
 he much rejoiced in ; and it was said, when he pro- 
 nounced the sentence, " The noble army of martyrs 
 praise thee," it was always with "a certain exaltation." 
 You will find your companion severe in his 
 notions as to simplicity in dress. When a Somerset- 
 shire lad came home one day, in a coat broidered 
 with broad gold lace, his mother in great alarm cut 
 it all away, and he himself afterwards remembered 
 his " vaine apparel " with great anguish, saying, 
 " My buttons, gold, and the silk on my sleeves 
 lay on my conscience, a burden weighty as a 
 world."* Some of the elders of the people, while 
 they held grave opinions about adornment in 
 " gold, pearls, and costly array," expressed those 
 opinions to the weaker brethren with edifying 
 moderation, desiring that " they should be pro- 
 ceeded against with all sweetness, and tenderness, 
 and long-suffering, it being not so clearly and 
 generally understood as other things that are more 
 contrary to the light of nature, "j- After all, the 
 
 * Life of Trosse. 
 
 f Papers of Western Association of Baptist Churches in 1655. 
 Baptist College Library, Bristol. 
 
WORDS JND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS 
 
 129 
 
 Standard of dress adopted by the Puritan would 
 more closely approximate to modern laws of taste 
 and propriety than would that of the Cavalier, with his 
 silks, feathers, laces, and gaudy streamers of ribbon. 
 
 Your friend exa6ls from his family the most 
 stricfl resped: to the injunftion, ^'^ be not conformed to 
 this world.''* But knowing what was meant by 
 "the world," in the life of any one of the Stuarts, you 
 are not surprised. If those gallants the " bright 
 exhalations' of knighthood " — so often placed 
 by Sir Walter Scott in enchanting contrast to the 
 rude and gloomy Puritans — were walking the earth 
 now, you would not call them gentlemen, nor wish 
 to see them at your table. Of course we are speak- 
 ing not of exceptions on either side, but of the 
 average Puritan and the average Cavalier. 
 
 In the evening, you leave the burgher's house to 
 take a view of life among the poorer classes. You 
 hear the music of family praise floating through 
 many a stone-shafted lattice as you pass along 
 the streets. It used to be so even in London,f 
 
 * We must hope that extreme measures to secure family order 
 were not often resorted to ; but in one of Mr. Newton's books there 
 is a publisher's list, which announces an interesting new work 
 with the following title : " The Husband's Authority Unveiled j 
 wherein is moderately discussed whether or no it be lawful for a 
 good man to beat his bad wife." 
 
 -}• " Time was when one could not have come through the streets 
 of London, even on a week-day, but we might hear the praises of 
 God, in singing of psalms." — Mr. Case, 1663. 
 
 K 
 
I JO WORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 but more especially in the better instrufted provin- 
 cial towns/'' At last, you enter the cottage of a 
 labourer. Pasted upon the wall are various folio 
 sheets, with such titles as these : — " Old Mr. Dod's 
 Sayings;" — "Another Posie out of Mr. Dod's 
 Garden ;" — " Plain Dire6lions for the more profit- 
 able hearing of the Word," by Joseph Caryl ; — 
 " Memorables concerning our life before God, by 
 one desirous of Poor Folks' Salvation;" — "Sayings, 
 &c., which may bepasted on aMan's Chamber-door 
 for a Memoriall." In the place meant to be most 
 public and honourable, there is a sheet, broad as a 
 leaf of the Times (you are not to forget the nine- 
 teenth century), bearing the title, " Mr. Joseph 
 Alleine's Directions for covenanting with God : 
 also. Rules for a Christian's Daily Self-examination."j- 
 A few godly books lie on a shelf near the window. 
 If you have been much in Puritan company, 
 you must have learned that, although no large 
 Society was at that time in existence for the dif- 
 fusion of religious knowledge amongst the poor, 
 sheets and books for this purpose were often dis- 
 tributed privately, or by concert of two or three 
 
 * Baxter says of Kidderminster, "Ycu might hear a hundred 
 families singing psahns and repeating sermons as you passed through 
 the streets." And this, he elsewhere tells us, was not an uncommon 
 thing in other towns. 
 
 f British Museum, The Rev. John Wesley afterwards issued an 
 abridged publication of these " Directions," giving them high praise. 
 
WORDS AND WAYS OF THE LAST PURITANS. IJ I 
 
 persons, to the extent of hundreds of thousands. 
 When, for instance, Alleine's treatise on conversion 
 came out, a Nonconformist minister proposed that 
 an edition should be printed for gratuitous cir- 
 culation, and immediately paid down ^^50 to- 
 wards the cost. Others joined him, and the result 
 was, that an impression of 20,000 was dispersed 
 without sale, and another impression was, by the 
 same method, sold under rate.* In these ways, 
 together with the system of catechising, on which 
 so much stress was placed in those days, the poorer 
 people were remarkable for their religious intelli- 
 gence. The poor man, into whose cottage your 
 spirit is now glancing, is ready to open a dialogue 
 with you like one of those reported in the " Pil- 
 grim's Progress." 
 
 If you wish to see what Puritan life was like in 
 " the high places," go with Mr. Alleine and his 
 brother Norman to spend an evening with Admiral 
 Blake at his country-house at Knowle, two miles 
 from Bridgewater. Suppose it to be during the 
 period of his brief visit to England in 1656. Sup- 
 pose his friend Colonel Hutchinson to be staying 
 there. There would be a simple meal, — the Bible 
 would be brought in,^there would be prayer, — 
 there would be conversation such as Christians 
 
 * Life and Funeral! Sermon of the Reverend Mr. Thomas Brand, 
 M.A., by Dr. Samuel Annerly, 1693, 
 
 K 2 
 
1 3 2 WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 love, and which they can only have when in "their 
 own company;" — there would probably be discourse, 
 in logical forms, on some of the mysteries of Chris- 
 tian truth, — of course there would be reasonings 
 over some " case of conscience ;" — Mr. Newton 
 would be apt to get prosy in discussing the opinions 
 of Fragosa, Tolet, Sayrus, and Roderiques ; — then 
 there would be a flow of graceful and varied talk, 
 not only on politics, but on books, pi6lures, gar- 
 dening, or the last scientific experiments of the 
 Oxford Society, — and the great sailor, who had so 
 often made the Dutch tremble at his sublime 
 audacity, " would affect a droll concern to prove 
 before the' ministers, by the aptness and abundance 
 of his Latin quotations, that in becoming an 
 admiral, he had not forfeited his claim to be con- 
 sidered a good classic."* You could not find 
 better types of the winning yet stately Christian 
 gentleman, than amongst the Puritans. 
 
 They had amongst them men of narrow and 
 negative opinions ; men of vehement, disputatious 
 independence ; men who had no love for the lovely 
 in the works of God or man, and who were accus- 
 tomed to think that in the exercises of religion the 
 eye and the ear were only in the way ; men who 
 seldom relaxed the stern strain of the faculties 
 which the exigencies of their day demanded, and who 
 
 * Hepworth Dixon's Life of Blake, p. 267. 
 
WORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 ^23 
 
 therefore made Christianity look forbidding. They 
 were often joined by men who though with, were 
 not of them, and who only misrepresented them 
 to the world; who put religiosity in place of religion, 
 and displayed a false Puritanism, " as like and as 
 unlike the true, as hemlock is to parsley ;" men to 
 whom plain, downright Lewis Stuckley said, when 
 referring to the signs over the tradesmen's doors, 
 *' You have glorious signs, but ill customs ; an angel 
 for a sign here, a lamb for a sign there, but within 
 devils and cheats."* Still, the true principles of 
 Puritanism were favourable to strength and refine- 
 ment of character, to domestic purity and love, and 
 to all kinds of commercial prosperity. While they 
 were ascendant, " there was scarcely an instance of 
 bankruptcy heard of in a year."-|- " Many places," 
 remarks Baxter, when writing of Alleine, " were 
 so seasoned by the great abilities and holy lives of 
 their pastors, the great market-towns have become 
 as religious as the seledled members which some 
 think only fit for churches." " In those years, 
 between forty and sixty," Philip Henry testifies, 
 "though on civil accounts ^ the foundations were 
 out of course,' yet, in the matters of God's worship, 
 things went well ; there was freedom and reforma- 
 tion, and a face of godliness was upon the nation, 
 though there were some that made a mask of it. 
 
 * Gospel Looking-Glasse. \ Neale's History, vol. iii., p. 46. 
 
134 ^ORDS AND WATS OF THE LAST PURITANS. 
 
 This, we know very well, let men say 
 what they will of those times."* 
 
 A clear conception, it is hoped, may now be 
 formed of the people among whom Alleine laboured, 
 whom he used to call " loving and most endeared 
 Christians," and whose excellencies so won his 
 heart, that in his long last illness he used to say, 
 ^' If I should die fifty miles away, let me be 
 buried at Taunton." 
 
 y^ * Life of Philip Henry, by Sir J. B. Williams, p. 89. 
 
Chapter VII. 
 aileine in m ^afibatfj of bis life. 
 
 " J Father's tenderness, a Shepherd's care, 
 A Leader'' s courage, ^cvhich the cross can bear, 
 A Ruler s aive, a Watchman's njjaheful eye, 
 A Pilofs skill, the helm in storms to ply, 
 A Fisher'' s patience, and a Labourer's toil, 
 A Guide'' s dexterity to disembroil, 
 An Intercessor'' s unil'wn from abo've, 
 A Teacher's kno-tvledge, and a Saajiour's lo've." 
 
 BISHOP KEN. 
 
 ABBI JOSE BAR JEHUDAH once 
 gave this decision : — " He that learneth 
 of young men, is like a man that eateth 
 unripe grapes, or that drinketh wine out 
 of the wine-press ; but he that learneth of the ancient, 
 is like a man that eateth ripe grapes, and drinketh 
 wine that is old." Such, at first, was the spirit of the 
 comparisons drawn between the old and the young 
 minister, by many a little group of critics that stood 
 about in the churchyard after service ; but gradually 
 such murmurs were hushed, and awe-struck crowds 
 walked home in silence. 
 
136 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 " This young Timothy was, at his first entrance 
 on his ministry, despised for his youth, by those 
 who after with shame confessed their errour, and 
 deplored their rashness, resolving after for his sake 
 no more to judge according to appearance, but to 
 honour for their work, and intrinsick worth, those 
 whom age hath not made venerable."* 
 
 His composition was slovenly. He never 
 studied the art of casting thought into form ; never 
 uttered language that was stately, periodic, or deli- 
 cately musical ; and never, unless by mere chance, 
 used words lit up with secondary or imaginative 
 meanings ; yet we should always remember, when 
 reading sermons preached by him and his brethren 
 to Puritan congregations, that many things in the 
 matter which are to us truisms, were to them start- 
 ling truths ; and that much of the style which 
 may seem to us tiresome and common, was not felt 
 to be so then. Long familiar use of such language 
 in the pulpit has worn away the freshness and 
 sharpness of its figurative stamp, but it was then 
 vivid and poetical, not because the speaker cared to 
 make it so, but because he was so full of life that 
 he could not help it. He would have disdained 
 to care about it. " The King's business re- 
 quireth haste," was his constant feeling, and he 
 could not stay to study the stru6lure of sentences 
 
 * Mr. Newton. 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SAB BATH OF HIS LIFE. 1 37 
 
 while dying men were waiting for the word of 
 life. Had the young preacher at St. Mary's been 
 advised to think more of verbal refinement, he would 
 probably have replied in language like that of John 
 Owen, " Know that you have to do with a person, 
 who, provided his words do but express the senti- 
 ments of his mind, entertains a fixed and absolute 
 disregard for all elegance and ornaments of speech." 
 His addresses had far higher elements of excellence. 
 They all breathed a winning tenderness, and all 
 revealed an amazing power of rapid, homely, shat- 
 tering appeal. The thoughts were all impetuous 
 with a rush of fresh and glowing life ; and though 
 there was the prophet's rough mantle, there was 
 also his chariot of fire. Every meaning was clear, 
 every stroke told, every gesture seemed to speak, — 
 vividus vultus, vividi oculi, vivid^ manus, denique 
 omnia vivida. One of his hearers tells us that 
 " he never preached without a long expostulation 
 with the impenitent, vehemently urging them to 
 come to some good resolve before he and they 
 parted, and to make their choice for life or death, ex- 
 pressing his great unwillingness to leave the subje6t, 
 till he could have some assurance that he had not 
 fought against sin ' as one that beateth the air ;' and 
 that much of his power arose from the point and 
 seasonableness of his words, spoken as they were 
 with an intimate knowledge of the individual cases 
 of those who formed his auditory." There was 
 
138 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 piercing dire6lness — the shafts of Hving Scripture 
 flew straight to their intended mark, and each swift 
 sentence had an aim clear as had the arrow found 
 on the ancient battle-field, bearing the motto "For 
 Philip's eye." 
 
 The bows of eloquence, it has been said, are 
 buried with the archers, and the life of rhetoric 
 perishes with the rhetorician ; it darkens with his 
 eye, stiffens with his hand, freezes with his tongue. 
 No full idea of what Alleine was in this respedl 
 can be gathered from his writings ; we are nearly 
 dependent for information on the testimonies of 
 those who heard him, and to cite these would be 
 almost endless, but we may cite a few. 
 -\ " Few ages have produced more eminent preachers 
 
 than Mr. Joseph Alleine," says Oliver Heywood. 
 Baxter speaks of his " lively seriousness," and of 
 his " great ministerial skilfulness in the public 
 explication and application of the Scriptures — so 
 melting, so convincing, so powerful." " He had a 
 powerful and charming rhetoric," adds Mr. Mayo, 
 when telling of his reputation at Oxford. Pearse, 
 an Episcopal clergyman, who heard him preach, 
 commends him as " eminently learned and excel- 
 lent." Mr. Newton thus speaks : — " His minis- 
 terial studies were more than usually easie to him, 
 being of a quick conceit, a ready, strong, and 
 faithful memory, a free expression (which was 
 rather nervous and substantial, than soft and deli - 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 139 
 
 cate), and, which was best of all, a holy heart that 
 boiled and bubbled up with good matter. This 
 furnished him, on all occasions, not with warm 
 affedlions only, but with holy notions too. For 
 his heart was an epistle, written not with ink, 
 but with the Spirit of the living God. In the 
 course of his ministry, he was a good man, and in 
 his heart a good treasure ; whence he was wont 
 continually to bring forth good things, both in 
 publick and private. 
 
 " He was apt to preach and pray, most ready on 
 all occasions to spend himself in such work : when 
 my sudden distemper seized upon me, putting him 
 at any time (as many times it did) upon very short 
 and suddain preparations, he never refused ; no, 
 not so much as flu6tuated in the undertaking ; but 
 being called, he confidently cast himself upon the 
 Lord, and trusted perfedly to His assistance, 
 who had never failed him ; and so he readily and 
 freely went about his work without distraftion. 
 
 " He began upon a very considerable stock of 
 learning, and gifts ministerial and personal, much 
 beyond the proportion of his years ; and grew 
 exceedingly in his abilities and graces in a little 
 time ; so that his profiting appeared to all men. 
 He waxed very rich in heavenly treasure, by the 
 blessing of God on a diligent hand, so that he was 
 behind in no good gift. He found that precious 
 promise sensibly made good, ^ To him that hath 
 
140 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 (for use and good employment) shall be given, and 
 he shall have abundance.' He had no talent for 
 the napkin, but all for traffique, which he laid out 
 so freely for his Master's use, that in a little time 
 they multiplied so fast, that the napkin could not 
 hold them. I heard a worthy minister say of him 
 once (not without much admiration), ' Whence hath 
 this man these things ?' He understood whence he 
 had them well enough, and so did I, — even from 
 above, whence every good and perfec51: gift pro- 
 ceedeth. God blessed him in all spiritual blessings 
 In heavenly things, and he returned all to Heaven 
 again ; he served God with all his might and all 
 his strength ; he was abundant in the work of the 
 Lord ; he did not go, but run the wayes of His 
 commandments ; he made haste and lingered not ; 
 * he did run, and was not weary ; he did walk, and 
 was not faint.' He pressed hard towards the mark, 
 till he attained it ; his race was short and swift, and 
 his end glorious. 
 'jC " He was infinitely and insatiably greedy of the 
 
 conversion of souls, wherein he had no small 
 success in the time of his ministry ; and to this 
 end he poured out his very heart in prayer and In 
 preaching ; he imparted not the Gospel only, but 
 his own soul. His supplications, and his exhor- 
 tations, many times were so affedionate, so full of 
 holy zeal, life, and vigor, that they quite overcame 
 his hearers ; he melted over them, so that he 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. I4I 
 
 thawed and mollified, and sometimes dissolved the 
 hardest hearts. But while he melted thus, he 
 wasted, and at last consumed himself." 
 
 Another contemporary writes as follows : — 
 " His judgment was as the pot of manna, wherein 
 were found and conserved all wholesome, soul-feed- 
 ing do6lrines. His memory was as the tables of 
 the covenant, and as the sacred records kept in the 
 ark, God's law being his meditation day and night. 
 So tenacious it was, that it needed not and wholly 
 refused those helps by which it is usually kept. 
 What had once engaged his love was, without 
 delay or difficulty, possessed of his memory." 
 ****** 
 
 " His phansie was as Aaron's rod budding, ever 
 producing fresh blossoms of refined, divine wit. 
 His affections were strong and fervent, never en- 
 kindled but with a coal from the altar. He had 
 a great acquaintance with the chief seCts of the 
 philosophers, especially of the academics and stoicks, 
 of his insight into whom he made singular use, by 
 gathering their choicest flowers to adorn Christi- 
 anity withal ; and scarcely did he preach a sermon 
 wherein he did not sele6l some excellent passage 
 or other out of them, whereby to illustrate and 
 fortify his discourse. His prolation or manner of 
 speech was free, sublime, and weighty. It will be 
 hard to tell what man ever spake with more holy 
 eloquence, gravity, authority, meekness, compas- 
 sion, and efficacy to souls." 
 
142 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 Such are a few of the expressions written about 
 him, years after his death, by a minister of the 
 church of England who knew him well. 
 
 The theme of his preaching was always " Jesus 
 Christ and Him crucified ;" and we are informed 
 that his views of the central peculiarities of the 
 Christian system were the same as those held by 
 Dr. Davenant, bishop of Salisbury, and Mr. 
 Baxter. The sentiments of the former may be 
 inferred from his threatened suspension by King 
 James, in 1630, for asserting in a sermon the doc- 
 trine contained in the seventeenth article of his 
 Church ;* — the sentiments of the latter are not so 
 easy to define ; but his declared approval of the 
 Assembly's Confession and the Synod of Dort's 
 Conclusions, with some slight exceptions, seem 
 decisive on the point that he was essentially a Cal- 
 vinist;-]- although it was certainly the aim of his 
 life to adjust the balance between the two great 
 do6lrinal systems, and to bring their respedlive 
 adherents to closer communion. 
 
 AUeine's theological doctrines have not been 
 given to us in any form of scientific unity, but we 
 may suspedl that the critics who asserted their like- 
 ness to those of Baxter, had special reference to his 
 constant call to the unconverted, and to the fadt 
 that he dealt with every man as a free and respon- 
 
 * Fuller, Book XI., p. 138. f Orme's Life of Baxter, li.^ 76, 77. 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 143 
 
 sible agent, open to receive the invitations of the • 
 Gospel. Although even the most rigid followers < 
 of the Genevese reformer preached the *^ glad 
 tidings " to the unconverted, they often did so in 
 strains made so cold and mysterious by subtleties 
 of qualification, and led the people round to the 
 waters of life through such a tangled brake of 
 logical refinements, that their invitations seemed 
 scarcely to be given in good faith ; and they some- 
 times even seemed afraid, lest, through their own 
 mismanagement, some of the wrong persons might 
 get saved after all. But Alleine, on the other 
 hand, feeling no embarrassment and no reserve, 
 and shackled by no theoretic misgivings — with 
 shouting voice, flashing eye, and a soul on fire 
 with love, proclaimed a completed and gratuitous 
 salvation to all who were willing to accept it. The 
 Spirit of God gave his message great efFe6t, and 
 multitudes, through all the days of heaven, will 
 remember Taunton Magdalene as the place where 
 they first beheld that great sight — " the Lamb of 
 God who taketh away the sin of the world ! " 
 
 But this great evangelist was not great merely, 
 or even chiefly, in the pulpit. Other agency was 
 needful to touch the many thousands for whom 
 there was no room within church walls. It was an 
 age of wondrous evangelic activity, but the uncer- 
 tain tenure of government discouraged the eredlion 
 of new churches, and in that populous town there 
 
144 ALLEINE IN THE SABBArH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 was only one small church besides his own. The 
 Baptist conventicle was the only worshipping 
 assembly of any other kind. The various opinions 
 now represented by Dissenters — separation from the 
 State, of course, excepted — had then place and voice 
 within the ecclesiastical buildings belonging to 
 the nation ; comparatively, only a few objefted to 
 the State control of religion.* Nearly everything 
 had to be done, therefore, by the unassisted adion 
 of the parish ministers. 
 
 By these circumstances he was stimulated to 
 almost incredible labours as a catechist. Several 
 hours were spent on each of the seven days of the 
 week in work of this kind, and in the following way : 
 — On the Sunday morning he preached from his own 
 pulpit, and when Mr. Newton, owing to infirmity, 
 was disabled from taking his turn in the evening, 
 he would then preach the same sermon again, after- 
 wards calling forth several youths to give an 
 account of its leading thoughts from memory. In 
 either case he constantly catechised in the after- 
 noon, before a great congregation, the youth of 
 each sex, the children of the magistrates and of 
 other gentry with the rest. The Assembly's Cate- 
 
 * Perhaps this may help to illustrate the statement made by the 
 Rev. Dr. Cottle — that, in the time of the Rev. Joseph Alleine 
 (one of the former clergymen), "there were no Dissenting places of 
 worship in the parish." — Some Account of the Church of St. Mary 
 Magdalen, p. 73. 
 
ALLEmE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 145 
 
 chism was the basis of the exercise, but along with 
 it were questions in writing which he had given out 
 in the previous week. 
 
 On Thursday afternoon he also catechised in the 
 church, street by street, whole families, except the 
 married or more aged, in order. In the remaining 
 five afternoons, from one or two o'clock until 
 seven in the evening, he would adopt the same 
 method more privately. Mrs. Theodosia Alleine 
 says, " In this work, his course was to draw a 
 catalogue of the names of the families in each street, 
 and so to send a day or two before he intended 
 to visit them. Those that sent slight excuses, or 
 did obstinately refuse his message, he would speak 
 some few afFeftionate words to them, or if he saw 
 cause, denounce the threatenings of God against 
 them that despise His ministers, and so departed ; 
 and after would send letters to them so full of love 
 as did overcome their hearts, and they did many of 
 them afterwards receive him into their houses. 
 Herein was his compassion shown to all sorts, both 
 poor and rich." 
 
 Another witness adds, " When he came, and the 
 members of the family were called together, he would 
 first be instructing the younger sort in the principles 
 of religion by asking several questions in the Cate- 
 chism. Then he would be pressing the practice of them 
 upon their consciences, with the most cogent argu- 
 ments and considerations, minding them of the great 
 
 L 
 
146 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 priviledges they did enjoy, the many Gospel-sermons 
 that they did or might hear, the many talents they 
 were entrusted withal, and the great account that they 
 had to give to the God of heaven. Telling them 
 how sad it would be with them another day, if after 
 all this they should come short of salvation. Those 
 that were serious and religious, he would labour to 
 help forward in holiness, by answering their doubts, 
 resolving their cases, encouraging them under their 
 difficulties. And before he did go from any family, 
 he would deal with the heads of that family, and such 
 others as were grown to years of discretion, singly 
 and apart ; that so he might (as much as possibly 
 he could) come to know the condition of each par- 
 ticular person in his flock, and address himself in 
 his discourse as might be suitable to every of them. 
 If he did perceive that they did live in the negle6l 
 of family duties, he would exhort and press them 
 to set up the worship of God in their families, and 
 directing them how to set about it, and to take 
 time for secret duties too. Such as were masters of 
 families, he would earnestly desire, as they did tender 
 the honour of Christ and the welfare of their children 
 and servants' souls, to let them have some time every 
 day for such private duties, and to encourage them 
 in the performance of them ; neither would he leave 
 them before he had a promise of them so to do."* 
 
 * Account of his catechising, by Mr. John Glanvil, M.A., 
 minister of St. James's, Taunton. 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 H7 
 
 After this, every Saturday morning, he cate- 
 chised the free-school of the place,* " excellently 
 explaining the answers in the Assembly's Catechism, 
 discovering a mine of knowledge in them and in 
 himself." f 
 
 While thus careful that all should understand 
 those dodrines which he himself received, without a 
 doubt, as the clear didates of Heaven, he was 
 equally in earnest that these should be translated 
 into a resolutely holy and adive life. Some 
 called him a legalist, because, with young and old, 
 high and low, he was severely pradical, both as a 
 preacher of righteousness and a fearless reprover of ! 
 sin. When any person had been deteded or ' 
 suspedted of promise-breaking, deceitful trading, or 
 of not being diligent in his calling, he would be 
 sure to hear of it from his minister, whatever the 
 event might be. " The failings of professors 
 touched him to the very quick, and brought him 
 low ; drew prayers, tears, and lamentations, both by 
 word and letter, from him. "J Life, he told the 
 people, was not to be spent in saintly reverie, and 
 " Religion was not a thing that knew only how to I 
 kneel, but not to walk, or work." ' 
 
 * 
 
 The free-school was founded in 1522, by Fox, bishop of 
 Winchester. Dr. Toulmin, when speaking of a gentleman who 
 was head master in 1730, says it was the largest provincial school 
 at that time known in England. 
 
 f Portraiture of a Compleat Gospel Minister. J Newton. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 " Beyond his labours in that great congregation 
 wherein he was fixed," observes his father-in-law, 
 " the care of many other congregations was daily 
 upon him. He went forth frequently into several 
 places about the country, among the poor ignorant 
 people that lived in dark corners, and had none to 
 take care of them, and both preached to them him- 
 self and stirred up many of his brethren, whose 
 forward minds readily joined with him." 
 
 At that time the ministers in the west of Eng- 
 land — Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Independent — 
 had formed themselves into an Association for their 
 mutual assistance in the ministry. This was parted 
 into seven divisions, which met quarterly, and into 
 many sub-divisions which met once in six weeks. 
 In their quarterly meetings, the moderator opened 
 the engagement with a Latin prayer ; then there 
 was a thesis on some question in divinity, and a 
 disputation, in which the ministers present opposed 
 the respondent ; after that would be words of in- 
 quiry and advice in relation to the local interests 
 of religion. All the various divisions had a yearly 
 united meeting at Exeter.* Mr, AUeine's influ- 
 
 * Calamy's Account, vol. ii., p. 227. The writer would here say, 
 that there is every evidence short of the most distinfl assertion that 
 the Ministers' Association, of" which Alleine was a conspicuous mem- 
 ber, was that of which Calamy has given an account as above. 
 He thinks it clear enough to be assumed as certain. Palmer says 
 that amongst the many episcopal ministers who belonged to it 
 
ylLLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 [49 
 
 ence with the ministers thus convened was great. 
 On one occasion, after a debate on the best methods 
 of promoting family instrudion in their respedive 
 charges, he was appointed to prepare a paper on the 
 subjed, which was afterwards printed. On another 
 occasion he advised his brethren to set apart the 
 two hours immediately" before eight o'clock every 
 Monday morning for special prayer secretly, or in 
 concert with seleded friends, on behalf of the 
 church and the nation. This rule, originating 
 with him, and supported by the sandion of the 
 western ministers, was observed for many years 
 by Nonconformists far and wide, — it was ob- 
 served in London, and the pra6lice extended even 
 to Wales.* 
 
 It may be wondered how so young a man could 
 have wielded so much power. There were several 
 reasons for it. One source of his power was his 
 own charader, which drew expressions of respedt 
 from the most relu6tant lips. " The tongues of 
 all did pay tribute to his good name, which was 
 
 were — Drs. Hutchinson, Gandy, Fulwood, Ashton ; Messrs. Ack- 
 land and Banks. — Nonconformist Mem., vol. ii., p. 391. Voluntary- 
 associations of Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Independent ministers 
 were also formed in other places. For an account of one in 
 Shropshire, see P. Henry's Life, 1698, p. 60. For a reference to one 
 in Lancashire, see Life of Heywood, by Joseph Hunter, F.S.A., 
 
 P- 109- 
 
 * Among other references to this, see P. Henry's Life, p. 151, 
 
I 50 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 a thing so entire and sacred that scarce a Rab- 
 shakeh or a Shimei could find a passage to invade 
 it." " He was both a first table-man and a second 
 table-man — that is, his religion had constant respe6t 
 both to God and man ; and much as he loved hours 
 of divine communion, he was not so much in the 
 mount with God as not also to come down to his 
 neighbour, whom he did accost as Moses, with both 
 tables in his hand, on which his life and dodrine 
 did constantly and excellently comment." 
 
 Another source of his power was his own 
 assurance of his divine calling as a minister. 
 Evidently, if a thing so extravagant could visit the 
 imagination, as that in the changes of life the 
 magistracy should ever say to him, " Be silent ; 
 it is against the law for you to speak — you are not 
 a minister ;" the effe6l would be much the same 
 as in olden time it would have been, if the civil 
 government had told Elijah that he was not a 
 prophet. This belief in his commission made every 
 thing he did bold and impressive. Confidence 
 begets confidence. All felt its eifedl. He was 
 young, but every moment he seemed to hear a 
 voice from heaven say, " These things do, and 
 speak with all authority. Let no man despise thee ;" 
 — and no man did. 
 
 Another secret of his power was the charm of his 
 presence. " He was tall and ereft, with a counte- 
 nance sprightly and serene, yet with such an inde- 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 151 
 
 scribable gravity and look of command, resulting 
 from a mind ever in awe before God, that his very 
 look struck an awe on all with whom he conversed, 
 and composed them to a true decorum. So that 
 as reverend Mr. Bolton, when walking the streets, 
 was so much clothed with majesty that the notice 
 of his coming in these words — * Here comes Mr. 
 Bolton!' — would, as it were, charm people into 
 order when vain or doing amiss ; so this most grave 
 divine, wheresoever he came, was as a walking 
 spirit, by his presence conjuring them into a grave 
 deportment, his countenance ever pointing out his 
 awful soul. What the image of Sennacherib did 
 speak, much more did this lively image of the most 
 high God speak : * He who looketh to me, let him 
 be religious.' "* 
 
 Another spell that he had was his known gene- 
 rosity. His aged father, and divers of his brethren 
 with their large families, being fallen into decay, 
 he gave pensions to some, portions to others, 
 education to the rest. He gave much alms daily. 
 When trade was low, he would give beyond his ability 
 to assist godly tradesmen to recover their standing. 
 Pease and flitches of bacon would he buy for dis- 
 tribution twice in the year in the severe weather. 
 Several children did he keep at school at his own 
 
 * Abridged from "An entire and exaft Delineation of this holy 
 Person." 
 
152 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 cost, bought many books and catechisms, had many 
 thousands of prayers printed and circulated ; gave 
 largely to the assistance of poor ministers, and took 
 many journeys to the gentry in the country on 
 their behalf; partly by his own gifts, and partly by 
 exciting the liberality of others, established lefture- 
 ships in the dark villages. Every remarkable 
 mercy was acknowledged by a " thankoffering" in 
 the shape of a special donation to the poor. There 
 seems to have been some alchemy required to con- 
 jure all these golden results out of a minister's 
 income ; but it should be remembered that his 
 resources were at this time greatly augmented by 
 his wife's school. All that we would say is, that 
 he appears to have been generous to the last limit 
 of possibility.* 
 
 In this life of almost seraphic ministry, that 
 seemed to ask no recreation and to know no pause, 
 he yet found time for scholastic labours scarcely 
 less remarkable. At the oak ledlern in his library 
 he studied the Fathers, became acquainted with 
 much of the learning contained in more than one 
 living language, and through his peculiar skill in 
 " the three languages which Christ sandified at the 
 Cross," f unlocked many a treasure of ancient 
 
 * Accounts by Mr Newton, Mr. R. AUeine, Mrs. Theodosia, 
 and others. 
 
 ■j- Ludovicus Vivos. 
 
ALLEINE IN 'THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 ^S3 
 
 thought. Some results of these explorings were 
 given in a work on the harmony between revela- 
 tion and nature, as shown by a comparison between 
 the dodlrines of Scripture and those of ancient 
 philosophers. The work was in Latin, and was 
 entitled " Theologia Philosophica. i . De cog- 
 nitione Dei. 2. De Existentia Dei. 3. De Nomi- 
 nibus et Substantia Dei. 4. De Attributis Dei in 
 Genere, et Speciatim de ejus unitate. 5. De Per- 
 fectione Divina. 6. De Decretis Divinis. 7. De 
 Providentia Divina. 8. De Cultu Divino de 
 Precibus." " In all which," remarks his friend 
 Richard Baxter, " he delivereth, in a very good 
 Latin style, the Christian doctrine ; and then, by 
 way of annotations, addeth the testimony of the 
 philosophers .... such a promptuary for 
 any one who hath not leisure to peruse, or to gather 
 for such particular uses the philosophers themselves, 
 that I know not where you can find the like. For 
 every sheet or two of his doftrine on the subjed, 
 you have eight, ten, twelve, or more sheets of col- 
 ledled attestations." 
 
 Only one volume of this work received the 
 author's final touches, and was licensed for the 
 press ; and the following is its title-page : — "Theo- 
 logias Philosophicas, sive Philosophias Theologies 
 specimen : In quo ^terni Dei Providentia solius 
 Naturae lumine comprobatur, validissimis rationum 
 momentis demonstratur, quoad Partes, Species, 
 
I 54 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 Objeda, et explicatur; contra omnes denique ad- 
 versariorum Objeftiones firmatur ; ex Aristotele, 
 Platone, Chalcidio, Sallustio, Firmico, Empirico, 
 Jamblico, Antonino, Epifteto, Proclo, Simpllcio, 
 Cicerone, Seneca, Macrobio, Porphyrio, Xeno- 
 phonte, Galeno, Plutarcho, Plotino, Tyrio, Apu- 
 leio, Alcinoo, aliisque Philosophis, Oratoribus et 
 Poetis, turn Grascis turn Latinis, ad Atheorum 
 convic5tionem, et Orthodoxorum confirmationem ; 
 Elucubratione J. A., anno dom. 1661." 
 
 These manuscripts were never printed, and are 
 now lost ; but speaking of the evidences they gave 
 of the writer's profound capacity, and wide classical 
 reading, Baxter says, " All these in a man so 
 young, as unless in one Giovanni Pico Delia Mi- 
 ranola, one Keckermann, one Pemble, in a country, 
 are rarely to be found."* 
 
 Yet he was not a mere man of books. His 
 acquaintance with some of the patriarchs of the 
 Royal Society, who were then busily colleding the 
 fads which other ages were more fully to interpret 
 and classify, kindled in his mind an interest in 
 
 * It is believed that this manuscript was in the possession of the 
 Rev. Dr Toulmin, and shared the fate of the doflor's papers. The 
 7^ Rev. Arthur Jones, of Taunton, writes : "All Dr. Toulmin's MSS. 
 were lost in the wreck of the vessel in which they were being con- 
 veyed to America, to Judge Harry Toulmin, the son of the doftor. 
 The house of the same Judge Toulmin was afterwards burnt down 
 by accident, and his libraiy destroyed." 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 155 
 
 science. One of his friends notices " his con- 
 siderable skill in anatomy, acquired by frequent 
 disseftions ; this," he continues, " led him to com- 
 pose, with Galen, hymns to the Creator, whose 
 infinite wisdom, displayed in wonders herein dis- 
 closed, he was often heard to admire." 
 
 Minds, like fields, need a rotation of crops to 
 keep them from becoming wastes of exhausted soil. 
 Collateral studies increase the working power of a 
 minister, and tend to give freshness, variety, and 
 striking life to his teachings. It was so here ; but 
 there were persons in the congregation who thought 
 differently. They looked with disfavour on their 
 minister's short excursions into the regions of 
 science, poetry, and classical reading, for they dimly 
 feared that such pursuits robbed them of some- 
 thing, and that the time thus occupied was so much 
 time taken from duty. Unhappily, wiseacres like 
 these are still to be seen here and there in the land 
 of the living. Let us hope that the day is at hand 
 when we shall only know them as fossil memorials 
 of an extindl species, shelved amongst our historical 
 curiosities. 
 
 Another of his habits claims our special notice, for 
 we may discover in it the foundation of his life's effi- 
 ciency. " At the time of his health," writes his wife, 
 "he did rise constantly at or before four of the clock ; 
 and would be much troubled if he heard smiths or 
 other craftsmen at work at their trades, before he 
 
156 ALLEINE IN THE SylBBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 was at communion with God : saying to me often, 
 ' How this noise shames me ! Doth not my Master 
 deserve more than theirs ?' * From four till eight 
 he spent in prayer, holy contemplation, and singing 
 of psalms, in which he much delighted, and did 
 daily praftice alone, as well as in his family." 
 Sometimes he would suspend the routine of paro- 
 chial engagements, and devote whole days to these 
 secret exercises, in order to which, he would con- 
 trive to be alone in some void house, or else in some 
 sequestered spot in the open valley. Here there 
 would be much prayer, much meditation on God 
 and heaven. Baxter's " Saints' Everlasting Rest" 
 , was a common " companion of his solitude ;" and 
 « such was the vehement heavenliness of his spirit 
 * that his favourite employment was praise. We 
 { could scarcely find a more eminent example of 
 1 thankfulness under all the vicissitudes of a troubled 
 ' career. It was the peculiar grace and light of his 
 life. Nearly all the scattered notices of him found 
 in the letters of his survivors contain allusions to it. 
 " The greater part of his public devotions con- 
 sisted of thanksgiving." He was never so much 
 in his element in preaching as when extolling the 
 marvellous love of God in Christ ; neither did 
 he forget to sound forth the praise of His 
 
 * An expression perhaps suggested by the sayhig imputed to 
 Demosthenes. 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. I ^J 
 
 perfedions in His works, as witnessed in the fields 
 and woods, and he has been often heard to 
 say, " Man is the tongue of the whole creation, 
 appointed as the creature's interpreter, to speak 
 forth and make articulate the praises which they 
 but silently intimate." * " He did delight in his 
 devotions to converse with the fowls of the air, and 
 the beasts of the field, with streams and plants did 
 he delight to talk, and all these did utter in his 
 attentive ear the praise and knowledge of his 
 Creator ; afterwards, in his unsettled sojournings 
 from place to place, he did often (to use his own 
 words) look back with sweetness and great content 
 on the places of his former pleasant retirements, 
 setting, as it were, a mark on those which had 
 marvellously pleased him in his solitudes, by ad- 
 ministering to his contemplative delight." f 
 
 He had a poet's enjoyment of nature, but only 
 along with a Puritan's love of the Bible. Every scene 
 was looked upon in the light of the sacred page ; 
 and he indulged in no imaginations but such as 
 were vividly biblical. While alive to all the num- 
 berless changes of morning music and beauty, he 
 felt yet more alive to the higher realities of which 
 they reminded him. When on his way home from 
 early prayer in the woods, he stood still in the 
 rapture of peace to watch the orchard trees crowned 
 
 * Life, p. 131. f Ibid. 
 
158 ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 with the foam of blossoms, he would all the while 
 be saying to himself, " As the apple tree among 
 the trees of the woo'd, so is my beloved among the 
 sons." Stopping, light-hearted, at other times, with 
 the glee of a child to listen to the lark, to peer 
 into a bird's nest in the hedge, to shake the rain 
 out of a rose, or to notice the gossamer as it lay 
 laced across the sparkling grass ; he would only be 
 consciously thinking of the " Rose of Sharon," the 
 " Dew of Israel," the "Sun of Righteousness," or of 
 the promises, the thought of which Christ has 
 connected with the sight of the " fowls of the air," 
 the " grass of the field," or the array of the lilies 
 in more than Solomon's glory. We know that 
 there are other springs of pure pleasure in God's 
 works, and other lessons to be read there, besides 
 those found by Alleine ; but if we all found as 
 much as he did, our hearts would be larger and 
 happier than they are. It is not altogether owing 
 to a truer philosophy that we fail to find in creation 
 remembrancers of texts and types of things divine. 
 If, indeed, we believe that creation and redemption 
 are both wrought by one Mediator, and are parts 
 of one great system, it is not inconceivable that the 
 first work should be construfted in subservient 
 reference to the highest and last, — that it should 
 be filled with Christian emblems and cyphers, wait- 
 ing to be interpreted by each prepared spirit, under 
 the guidance of the " more sure word of prophecy;" 
 
ALLEINE IN THE SABBATH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 ^S9 
 
 and that although nature is not commissioned 
 to preach the Gospel to the lost, it should be full 
 of evangelical meaning to the saved. Let us take 
 heed that we are not ruled by a principle more 
 narrow and realistic than that at which we smile. 
 
 These were days of rare happiness. He was 
 happy in his hours of holy thought ; happy in the 
 calm society of books ; happy in his labours. 
 Could you have seen him, after his hours of solitude, 
 enjoy the hour of cheerful converse and peaceful 
 devotion with his family, and then, " rejoicing like 
 a strong man to run his race," go forth to the work 
 of the day, you would have thought that the time 
 of his ministry at Taunton Magdalene was the 
 Sabbath of his life. 
 
 f 
 
Chapter VIII. 
 
 c3y^?<^ 
 
 CDe act of Omformity. 
 
 " O sacred Peace ! nju hither art thou fled F 
 What region hides thy drooping head ? 
 Fledfro7n the Church, fled from the State, 
 Fled from the poor, fled from the great ! 
 
 Peace for the ^wicked ne'^er ivas knotvn ; 
 But peace is noiv from Zionflo-xvn, 
 Dri-'oen to the deserts and the --woods. 
 And there pursued by dragon floods ! " 
 
 UNKNOWN WRITER OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 IV the 29th of May, 1660, there was 
 high festival in Taunton, After ser- 
 vice in the church, the silvery bells 
 of St. Mary's clashed out merrily, the 
 guns of the castle boomed, the streets were alive 
 with clamorous crowds, banners and oak boughs 
 waved everywhere, joy was on every face and in 
 every voice, for the King had come " to enjoy his 
 own again." This is only mentioned as a sample 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITr. 1 6 1 
 
 of the delight that burst forth through the length 
 and breadth of merry England soon as the event 
 became known. It was not known everywhere at 
 once ; news travelled slowly in those days ; and 
 there were towns in which the bells were not set 
 ringing until a fortnight after the proper date, — 
 the surprising discovery having then been suddenly 
 made. 
 
 By degrees, unfolding from this event, grew a 
 train of consequences so important to our history 
 that this chapter must be separately devoted to 
 their recital ; therefore, parting company with 
 Alleine for a few moments, and reserving for the 
 present all matters relating exclusively to Taunton, 
 we must now look at the " A61 of Uniformity," 
 tracing it from some of its springs to some of its 
 outfalls. 
 
 Generally speaking, the Puritans were attached 
 to the monarchy. Its overthrow had been occa- 
 sioned, not by them, but by the late misguided , 
 King ; and when, after that, confusion followed con- \ 
 fusion, and there was no way out of the maze until 
 Oliver Cromwell rose to the supreme executive, the 
 new rule was accepted by them, not as the best in 
 itself, but as the best the case would allow. On 
 the death of that great magistrate, most were 
 willing, and many were eager, that Government 
 should return to its former course, and wear its 
 ancient symbols ; — there seemed, indeed, to be no 
 
 M 
 
1 62 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITr. 
 
 alternative but this or anarchy. There seemed also 
 to be now no fear that its re-establishment would 
 bring any danger to their dearly-bought liberties ; 
 for, surely, the King had been taught to resped 
 these by his father's fate, and by his own adversity. 
 Some, indeed, boded evil from the fadl that his 
 companions in adversity had been his father's evil 
 counsellors, — some of the very men whose advice 
 had urged on that illegal exercise of prerogative 
 which had led inevitably to the revolution, — 
 
 " of a tall stature and a sable hue, 
 
 Much like the son of Kish, that lofty Jew, 
 Ten years of need he suffered in exile, 
 And kept his father's asses all the while." * 
 
 The ministers were more hopeful, perhaps be- 
 cause they were more loyal — It was to their in- 
 fluence, very largely, that King Charles owed the 
 happy turn in his fortunes ; f and it was the candid 
 saying of a church dignitary after the restoration, 
 that " if the Nonconformist ministers could not 
 drink the King's health, they helped to pray him 
 to his throne." J He had lately still further won 
 their hearts, good souls ! by putting on signs of 
 piety. He had sent over from Breda a proclama- 
 tion " against debauchery and profaneness." When 
 several of their number attended as a deputation 
 
 * Andrew Marvell. 
 
 f Baxter's Life, p. 216. 
 
 X Conformist's Plea for the Nonconformists, p. 37. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMirr. I 63 
 
 from the Lords and Commons to invite him back 
 to England, it was their happiness one morning, 
 while waiting at his command in an antechamber, 
 to overhear him at his prayers, in which " he 
 thanked God that he was a covenanted king ; and 
 hoped that the Lord would give him a humble, 
 meek, forgiving spirit, that he might have for- 
 bearance to his offending subjefts, as he expe6led 
 forbearance from Heaven."* Upon which, old 
 Mr. Case, one of their number, lifted up his hands 
 to heaven, and blessed God.f He had also sent 
 a declaration granting a general pardon to all his 
 loving subjeds who should lay hold of it within 
 forty days, except such as should be excepted by 
 Parliament. " We do also declare," said he, " a 
 liberty to tender consciences, and that no man 
 shall be disquieted or called in question for differ- 
 ences of opinion in matters of religion which do 
 not disturb the peace of the kingdom.":): With 
 regard to the strud:ural arrangements of the church 
 the Presbyterians were willing to make large con- 
 cessions ; and they expecfled to be comprehended 
 with others in a church-scheme after the model 
 suggested by Archbishop Usher, in which the main 
 points of difference between them and the Episco- 
 
 * Crosby's History of Baptists, vol. I., p. 357. 
 
 \ Palmer, vol. ii., p. 43. 
 
 \ Lord Soniers' CoUeftions, 4to., 1795, p. 349. 
 
 M 2 
 
I 64 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 palians should be left open. " In things essential, 
 unity ; in things indifferent, liberty ; in all things 
 charity." In these expectations they were sustained 
 by the result of the conferences which they had 
 invited with Dr. Morley and the chief clergy. 
 But these gentlemen meantime were receiving their 
 secret instructions from Chancellor Hyde, who thus 
 wrote to them from Breda : — " The King very 
 well approves that Dr. Morley and some of his 
 brethren should enter into conferences with the 
 Presbyterian party, in order to reduce them to such a 
 temper as is consistent with the good of the church ; 
 and it may be no ill expedient to assure them 
 of present good preferments ; but, in my opinion, 
 you should rather endeavour to win over those, 
 who, being recovered, will both have reputation and 
 desire to merit from the church, than be over- 
 solicitous to comply with the pride and passion of 
 those who propose extravagant things."* 
 
 On the occasion of his triumphal entry into 
 London, his majesty was pleased still further to 
 dulcify the Presbyterians, by receiving from their 
 aged spokesman, Mr. Arthur Jackson, a richly- 
 embossed Bible, — declaring, as he did so, " that he 
 intended to make that blessed book the rule of his 
 condud ; assuring the ministers, at the same time, 
 that he attributed his restoration, under God, to 
 
 * Life of Dr. Barwick, p. 525. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 1 65 
 
 their prayers and endeavours."* He also admitted 
 ten of their number into the list of his Court 
 chaplains, and, " for once a martyr to the public 
 good, submitted himself to the penalty of hearing 
 four of their sermons. That with which Baxter 
 greeted him, could not have been recited by the 
 most rapid voice in less than two hours. It is a 
 solemn contrast of the sensual and the spiritual 
 life, without one courtly phrase to relieve his cen- 
 sure of the vices of the great. "f 
 
 The opening of the new reign was a morning 
 full of promise, but after a few hours, threatening 
 clouds began to gather. First, an Ad was passed 
 for restoring the sequestered clergy to their livings. 
 All ought to allow that it was only a righteous 
 thing to restore the worthy men who had been 
 ejected simply on account of their conscientious 
 objedion to Cromwell's government ; but it must 
 be borne in mind, that great numbers of the 
 sequestered were utterly unworthy of the clerical 
 station, and had been displaced from it simply on 
 account of infamous incompetency or vice. As 
 Christian legislators, the framers of the A6t felt 
 that there were some who could not be reinstated 
 with propriety. Even royal charity must have 
 its limits, — a line must be drawn somewhere. Many 
 
 * Conformist's Fourth Plea, 4to., 1683, p. 69. 
 ■f- Sir James Stephen. 
 
I 66 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 of the old clergy were still obje6ls of popular 
 derision for their illiteracy, or for their tavern- 
 haunting propensities, but these were not unpardon- 
 able sins. Others, however, of the unhappy men 
 had so degenerated since their ejedion, that they 
 had adlually professed republican politics ; and, 
 such is human nature when left to itself, there were 
 others who had gone so far as to become Baptists ! 
 These two extreme offences were not to be for- 
 given ; but besides these two things, nothing 
 " scandalous" was recognized as a bar to restora- 
 tion. It was therefore ena6ted, that " Every 
 sequestered minister who has not justified the late 
 King's murder, or declared against infant baptism, 
 shall be restored to his living before the 25 th of 
 December next ensuing, and the present incum- 
 bent shall peaceably quit it, and be accountable for 
 dilapidations, and all arrears of fifths not paid." 
 By this A61, " some hundreds of Nonconformist 
 ministers were dispossessed of their livings in the 
 first year of the King's reign," "but in every instance 
 where the old incumbent was dead, the living was 
 confirmed to the a6lual possessor."* 
 
 The clouds grew darker. Soon as the clergy 
 were in their old places again, they loudly lauded 
 the King's Aft of Oblivion; but sometimes in a way 
 
 • Neale ; Toulinin's edition, vol. iii., p. 40. See also Henry 
 Jessey's " Loud Call," p. 2. 
 
rHE ACr OF UNIFORMITT. I 67 
 
 not the best adapted to advance its avowed objed. 
 Sunday after Sunday, before the King, before the 
 judges, on great occasions as well as in the regular 
 course of their ministry, did they minutely enume- 
 rate the things that were to be forgotten, and 
 lengthily expatiate on the enormities that were to 
 be forgiven. Take, as one instance out of many, 
 an Assize Sermon, preached by Dr. Creede on 
 September 6, 1660 : — 
 
 " I am resolved, in imitation of the King's un- 
 paralleled Ad: of grace and perpetual oblivion, not 
 to meddle with any persons or parties concerned in 
 
 that Adl The instruments of all our 
 
 miseries could never have been able to have done 
 anything against us, unless God had not only given 
 them in charge, but assisted them to do it. We 
 blame their pride, and covetousness, and ambition, 
 and we do not amiss. But our spoils and plunder 
 were the wages God bestowed upon them for their 
 service ; and they were God's hirelings when they 
 knew it not, and only designed to serve their lusts 
 and obey their own ambition. Even heathen 
 Cyrus was God's anointed, though he was ignorant 
 
 of Him "This should help us to 
 
 bury our animosities on all sides. Consider we, 
 that they have been God's instruments. His fire 
 and hammer to break us for the furnace, and melt 
 us from our dross and tin. The Devil, God's 
 excutioner, and wicked men his substitutes " (such 
 
I 6 8 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 as Newton and Alleine), " are all but in a chain. 
 . Though God put you into the melting- 
 pot, yet it was not your just crimes, but your 
 steadfastness and constancy in your adherence to 
 the King and the laws, and the primitive doctrine 
 and discipline of the church, threw you out of your 
 places and callings."* 
 
 These exhortations to forgetfulness were not 
 successful ; indeed, they seemed rather to exasperate 
 party remembrances than otherwise. The Puritans 
 were betrayed, but they ought not to have been 
 surprised. They never had been, and they never 
 could be, really popular, — their religion was alto- 
 gether unfitted to be the instrument of the State. 
 It was not in human nature for the clergy to regard 
 them with anything but a retaliative spirit, after 
 enduring so much provocation at their hands. 
 When, therefore, they had assisted to place the 
 King upon the throne, they were no more wanted, 
 and were to be treated henceforth only as a defeated 
 faction. 
 
 * Judali's Purging in the Me!ting-Pot : a Sermon preached in the 
 Cathedral at Sarum, before the Rev. Sir Robert Foster, and Sir 
 Thomas Tyrell, Knights, Judges for the Western Circuit, at the 
 Wiltshire Assizes, Sept. 6, i66o. By W. Creede, D.D., Arch- 
 deacon of Wilts, and Canon-Resident of Sarum. Dedicated to the 
 above Knights and the Justices of Peace in the County of Wilts. 
 Dr. Creede was a man of great influence. See the Kennett Collec- 
 tion, Lan^downe MSS., 986. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 169 
 
 The sky was lowering every moment. In 166 1, 
 an A61 was passed for " The better regulating of 
 Corporations," the eifed of which was to expel all 
 the Nonconformists from the various branches of 
 the magistracy; and before the close of the follow- 
 ing year, not a municipal officer was left who was 
 not entirely devoted to " church and king." * John 
 Bunyan was watching all this, and in the " Holy 
 War" we are told how Diabolus remodelled the 
 captured town of Mansoul, turning out Mr. Con- 
 science the recorder, and bringing in a new set of 
 aldermen and burgesses. 
 
 As a consequence of this measure, and through 
 the appointment of justices who asserted the prin- 
 ciple that " the old laws returned with the King," 
 the ministers were treated as men who held an 
 illegal and therefore undefended office. They were 
 insulted in the streets, they could not even worship 
 God in their own dwellings without liability to 
 interruption by persons blowing horns, or flinging 
 stones at their windows ; and there was little chance 
 of redress. Their public ministry was open to still 
 greater disturbance, and although the discipline of the 
 church was understood by those in highest authority 
 to be in suspension, they were continually hearing 
 of old friends being sequestered from their livings. 
 
 * Neale, vol. iii., p 4, 
 
lyo 
 
 THE act: of uniformitt. 
 
 and cited Into ecclesiastical courts for not using the 
 surplice in the ceremonies. In March, 1662, the 
 grand jury at Exeter found bills of indiftment 
 against more than forty eminent ministers, for not 
 reading common prayer. The diaries of ministers 
 who were not deprived, abound at this time in 
 entries like these : — 
 
 " Strong reports I should not be suffered to 
 preach to-day ; but I did ; and no disturbance. 
 Blessed be God, who hath my enemies in a 
 chain!" 
 
 " In despite of my enemies, the Lord hath 
 granted the liberty of one Sabbath more. To Him 
 be praise." 
 
 " Common Prayer-book tendered again. Lord, 
 they devise wicked devices against me ; but in thee 
 do I put my trust. Father, forgive them !" 
 
 " They took the cushion from me, but the 
 pulpit was left. Blessed be God !" 
 
 " Day of preparation for the sacrament 
 
 The good Lord pardon ! Full of fears lest we 
 should be hindered ; for our adversaries bite the 
 lip at us." 
 
 " Through the good hand of God upon us, we 
 have this day enjoyed one sweet Sabbath more. 
 They did us all the hinderance they could ; but, 
 notwithstanding, we proceeded."* 
 
 * Passages from Philip Henry's Diary in 1661 and 1662. 
 
rHE ACT OF UNlFORMirr. 
 
 171 
 
 •All through the two years immediately following 
 the renewal of monarchy in England, the Inde- 
 pendents and Baptists, especially those who had not 
 been included in the ecclesiastical framework of the 
 State, only petitioned for toleration ; but the Pres- 
 byterians, who were already thus included, and who 
 still desired to be so, were occupied in unceasing 
 conferences with the men in power, hoping to gain 
 their consent to a system so modified as to admit 
 of their own continued comprehension within its 
 pale. After many fair but evasive speeches, the 
 King appointed a meeting between them and the 
 diocesan clergy to consider the possibility of such a 
 comprehension. They met at the Savoy, on the 
 25th of March, 1661, and after a discussion drawn 
 through four months, episcopal tadlics brought 
 this clerical tourney to a feeble if not a ludicrous 
 close — " a conclusion in which nothing was con- 
 cluded." 
 
 Before the Savoy conference was over, the two 
 houses of convocation assembled. On the 2,0th of 
 November, by the authority of the King, and also, 
 it was pretended, by the request of the Presby- 
 terians, they commenced the revision of the Prayer- 
 book and the forms of ordination, in order to fix 
 the standard of uniform v/orship. Clarendon was 
 the secret ruler of the proceedings, but the chief 
 agents here, as at the Savoy, were Bishops Sheldon 
 and Morley ; and Burnet says that, in reality. 
 
172 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 everything was diredled by them.* These men 
 were vehement representatives of the party that 
 aimed to place the crown above the laws, and the 
 church above the crown. It is also notorious that 
 Sheldon was a man of profligate charafter, and a 
 rival of rakes like Sedley in eccentricities of degra- 
 ding vice.f It was therefore easy to foresee the 
 result of this council, and after the labours of a 
 month, the result came forth. 
 
 A list had been given them of the liturgical 
 changes which the Presbyterians desired ; but 
 although, according to Tenison, afterwards arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, about six hundred small 
 alterations or additions were made, — according to 
 Burnet, " care was taken that nothing should be 
 altered as it had been moved by the Presbyterians, 
 for it was resolved to gratify them in nothing." J 
 It was known that no Presbyterian minister could 
 confess the nullity of his previous ministrations, or 
 allow that his ministry could have two beginnings ; § 
 therefore, contrary to the decision of Archbishop 
 
 * Burnet's History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 184. 
 
 f Diary of Mr. Pepys ; Bohn's Edition, vol. iv., 29th July, 1667. 
 
 X Burnet, vol. i., p. 183. 
 
 § "Pray, Sir," said the bishop of Exeter to John Howe, " what 
 hurt is there in being twice ordained ?" " Hurt, my lord," rejoined 
 he 5 " it hurts my understanding ; the thought is shocking ; it is 
 an absurdity, since nothing can have two beginnings. I am sure I 
 am a minister of Christ, and am ready to debate that matterwith you, 
 if your lordship pleases, but I cannot begin again to be a minister." 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 173 
 
 Grindal and the first English churchmen, — con- 
 trary to the statute and pra6lice which, at the close 
 of the sixteenth century, allowed scores if not hun- 
 dreds of clergymen to officiate in the English church 
 who had not been ordained episcopally, they now 
 denied the validity of the orders of all who had been 
 ordained during the last twenty years, and required 
 every man who had been thus ordained to make the 
 same virtual denial, by submitting to episcopal ordi- 
 nation on pain of being deprived of his benefice. It 
 was known that the Puritans disliked the saints' 
 days, — "In 1604 and 1662 the legendary store- 
 houses of Rome were ransacked and the 
 
 feelings of the Puritan party were wantonly out- 
 raged by the insertion of the names of fifty or sixty 
 of the mythical or semi-historical heroes of monkish 
 legend .... and the names of a few Popes were 
 considerately included in the list." It was known 
 that they objected to the apocryphal lessons, — the 
 bishops therefore added another, containing the 
 story of " Bel and the Dragon." It was known 
 that they objeded to the sacerdotal and sacramental 
 theories of the Prayer-book, — consequently, " all 
 the matters about which they scrupled were now 
 made prominent, and a coherence and systematic 
 consistency were for the first time given to those 
 sacerdotal and sacramental theories which had pre- 
 viously existed in the Prayer-book only in an em- 
 bryotic condition ; and certain dogmas, which, by 
 
174 
 
 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 the moderation of the reformers, had been couched 
 in vague and general terms, were now expressed in 
 ample and emphatic phraseology."* It was known 
 that the aim of the Presbyterian section of the 
 Puritans was to make the church of England com- 
 prehend all who hold essentially the common faith 
 of Christians. The aim of the bishops was to 
 make this comprehension impossible, — at least it 
 was resolved to exclude every Puritan. " It is to 
 be called a comprehensive church," said the bishop 
 of Ely, when preaching before the King ; " though 
 I think it might better be called a drag-net — a 
 Trojan horse with a comprehensive belly." To 
 prevent such a profanation, he and his brethren 
 studied to incorporate into the Prayer-book things 
 new and old, to which the Puritans most strongly 
 objeded ; and next, they demanded not merely the 
 promise of conformity to all these in pradlice, but, 
 what is a very different thing, the profession of 
 conformity in principle — conformity the most full, 
 distindl, and particular — " unfeigned assent and 
 consent to all and everything contained and pre- 
 scribed in and by the Book of Common Prayer." 
 The present organic forms of the church of 
 England, therefore, owe their very existence to a 
 protest against the dodrine of comprehension. 
 When the earl of Manchester told the King that 
 
 * The Liturgy and the Dissenters, by the Rev. Isaac Taylor, M.A. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 175 
 
 the proposed terms of conformity were so hard that 
 he feared many who were now ministers would not 
 be able to comply ; " I am afraid they will," said 
 Sheldon ; '■'■ but now we know their minds, we will 
 make them all knaves if they conform." 
 
 This work of re-constru6ting the Prayer-book 
 having been effefted, it was sent to the King and 
 his council, and from thence transmitted with the 
 seal of his majesty's approval to the houses of legis- 
 lature that It might pass into law. 
 
 Meanwhile, the course of proceedings was felt to 
 be impeded by the royal promise from Breda that 
 " no man should be disquieted or called into ques- 
 tion for differences in religious matters not disturb- 
 ing the peace of the kingdom." To remedy this 
 inconvenience, reports were circulated of a general 
 insurrection on the part of the Nonconformists. 
 By forged letters and secret agency they were charged 
 with plots laid in thirty-six different counties. 
 Undoubtedly, a spirit of passionate opposition to 
 Government was simmering in many parts of 
 England, and documents in the State Paper Office 
 show that there was a readiness on the part of a 
 few to fight for liberty again. But this was con- 
 fined to members of the disbanded army, and to 
 separatists who repudiated the connexion of the 
 church with the State. The charge, as brought 
 against the Presbyterians, was a transparent fidion ; 
 but, fi6lion as it was, it suited the temper of the 
 
176 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 times, stung the mob to fury, and furnished a 
 pretext for the intended A61. * 
 
 At length, by a majority of six votes, the Com- 
 mons passed the Bill for " the uniformity of public 
 prayer, and administration of sacraments, and other 
 rites and ceremonies," &c., &c., in the church of 
 England. After much discussion, the Lords con- 
 curred ; — on May the 19th it received the royal 
 assent, and was ordered, by strange fatality or 
 daring defiance, to take effedl from the feast of St. 
 Bartholomew, August 24, 1662. One of the pro- 
 visions of this Adl was, " that before St. Bartholo- 
 mew's day, every parson, vicar, or other minister 
 whatsoever, should, on pain of deprival, declare 
 openly and publicly his unfeigned assent and con- 
 sent to everything contained in the Book of Com- 
 mon Prayer, to renounce the solemn league and 
 covenant, to acknowledge that the oath taken to 
 maintain it involved no moral obligation, and, 
 further, to declare that it was unlawful, under any 
 pretence, to take up arms against the King." j- 
 Those who were not clergymen, but only teachers, 
 
 * Ample information respe6ling these sham plots may be found in 
 the writings of Baxter, Oliver Heywood, Calamy, Rapin, John 
 Locke, and also in Captain Yarrington's narrative, exposing the 
 forgery, published in 1681. This last book I have not seen, but 
 great stress is laid upon it by Calamy in the first volume of his 
 Account, and also in his Letter to Archdeacon Echard, 171 8, p. 20. 
 
 -f- The clause about the covenant was only in force until 1682. The 
 clause about taking up arms against the King was suspended in 1688. 
 
THE act: of uniformitt. 
 
 T77 
 
 were, in case of non-compliance with the A(5t, to 
 be visited with heavy penalties. It was further 
 ordered that a copy of the revised service-book 
 should be printed and sent to every minister re- 
 cognized by law, before the day appointed for 
 giving it efFedl ; but the issue from the press was 
 so late, that not one in ten had an opportunity of 
 seeing it. At the hour of decision, therefore, the 
 large majority declared their "unfeigned assent and ^ f ' 
 consent to all and everything " in a book which 
 they had not seen.* About three thousand re- 
 fused to subscribe ; and when the terms of sub- 
 scription were fully known, about two thousand 
 of these took their final station in the ranks of 
 Nonconformity. -f- Thus the cloud burst, and 
 the long-threatened rush of desolation came at 
 last. 
 
 The history of the two thousand men, who in 
 this way " nobly a6led what they nobly thought," 
 was henceforth one of peril and solemn sorrow. 
 Their loss of worldly means, their constant liability 
 to persecution, and the consequent necessity of 
 studying every method of concealment consistent 
 — . — , « 
 
 * " Not one in forty could have seen it." — Locke's Works, vol. x., 
 pp. 203, 204.. 
 
 f Baxter puts the number of the ejefted and deprived as from 
 1,800 to 2,000 — Life, p. 384. Calamy gives it as 2,400, including 
 fellows of colleges not in orders. A catalogue in Dr. Williams's 
 library gives 2,257 names. A manuscript by Oliver Heywood 
 gives 2,500. 
 
 N 
 
178 
 
 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 with their convidlions of duty, made all this in- 
 evitable. 
 
 Some died broken-hearted ; some left the country ; 
 some became physicians ; others, famous once, be- 
 came private tutors, and were heard of in the world 
 no more.* Many, with their families, had to 
 exchange a life of refinement and competency for 
 a life on the verge of starvation, gentlemen and 
 scholars as they were. Many had to adopt the 
 calling of farm-servants or artisans. Let one 
 instance be accepted as a specimen. The lady of 
 a country squire was dangerously ill. The clergy- 
 man was sent tor, but returned word that " he was 
 going out with the hounds, and would come when 
 the hunt was over." " Sir," said one of the 
 servants to the afflided husband, " our shepherd, 
 if you will send for him, can pray very well ; we 
 have often heard him pray in the field." The 
 shepherd was immediately summoned to the side 
 of the sufferer, and prayed with such astonishing 
 pertinency and fervour, that when he rose from 
 his knees, the gentleman said to him, " I conjure 
 you to inform me who and what you. are, and what 
 were your views and situation in life before you 
 came into my service ?" Upon which he told him 
 " that he was one of the ministers ejedted from 
 the church, and that having nothing of his own 
 
 "H rkOviiKei' j) SiSdaKei ypa/ifjiaTa. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 79 
 
 left, he was content for a livelihood to submit to 
 the honest and peaceful employment of keeping 
 sheep."* The good man was an Oxford master 
 of arts ; in better days he had been noted as a 
 Hebraist, and had been much revered by his 
 brethren for his varied excellencies of mind and life. 
 Several of his beautiful letters written in those days 
 may be seen in Dr. Williams's library, and one of 
 them seems to show that we owe to his suggestion 
 Baxter's valuable autobiography. 
 
 Some of these confessors were too old to sup- 
 port themselves by such new modes of labour. 
 The writer of these pages has before him a manu- 
 script written by one of them in the winter after 
 his ejedlion.f He was then in his seventy-ninth 
 year, and had been for fifty years the honoured 
 minister of his parish, but now he was a wanderer, 
 without means of subsistence. He had been 
 spoken of as " one of the most eminent preachers 
 of any age ;" but just before writing this letter, 
 one of the magistrates had plucked his grey beard, 
 and insulted him with epithets too foul to be 
 
 * Peter Ince, of Brazenose College This well-known story was 
 communicated to Mr. Palmer by Mr. Josiah Thompson, who had 
 often heard it related by Mr. Bates, an aged minister at Warminster. 
 — Dr Rippon's Register, vol. iv., p. 338. The name of the country 
 gentleman is there given as Grove ; but this must have been a mistake, 
 as Mr. Grove was a celebrated Wiltshire gentleman, mentioned in the 
 Baxter MSS. as Mr. Ince's friend in the days of his prosperity. 
 
 f Elkanah Wales, A.M , Trinity College, Cambridge. 
 N 2 
 
I 80 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 repeated. It was no longer safe for him to remain 
 in the distridt where he was known, and the rest of 
 his days had to be spent amongst strangers ; yet 
 his spirit was fresh and joyous as ever, and he could 
 still write of himself and his wife as follows : — 
 " We are in tollerable case for bodily health, save 
 that this sharp, piercing weather doth pinch us and 
 make us shrink ; but I hope after a little time it 
 will grow warmer, and the air will become more 
 calm and favourable to old, colde, thinne boddys." 
 Most of these pastors felt that no human 
 authority could free them from their ordination 
 vows. Through the years of persecution occasioned 
 by the A61 of Uniformity, and the successive 
 penal enadlments made to enforce it, they still 
 assembled their scattered flocks for prayer. Such 
 meetings would be convened by the Bristol pastors 
 in some secluded spot under the open sky, far away 
 from the city, the congregation sometimes drenched 
 with the rain, sometimes standing in the deep 
 December snow.* The Puritans at Andover met 
 in a dell four miles from the town, or in a private 
 residence which they would enter when their neigh- 
 bours were asleep, and then, having fastened the 
 door and window-shutters, and even extinguished 
 the candle-light, lest its flicker might be discovered 
 through a crevice by some spy without, — they con- 
 
 * Broadmead Records. 
 
rHE y4CT OF UNIFORMITY. I 8 I 
 
 tinued in prayer until the ray of dawn, slanting 
 down the chimney, warned them away.* Flavel's 
 congregation met at midnight in the hall of Hud- 
 scot Manor-house ; other congregations met at the 
 same hour in woods. All were in peril, but that 
 of their leaders was of course the greatest. Habited 
 like a husbandman, with a fork on his shoulder 
 and a Bible in his pocket, the venerable Richard 
 Chantyre used to set out in the twilight to his 
 distant conventicle, thus contriving to evade the 
 informers for years.f Other ministers adopted 
 similar disguise; but, after every expedient for 
 secrecy and escape, there were few of these brave 
 men who had not to suffer from hunger or the 
 chain. 
 
 This AS: still stands unchanged. To change it 
 in any essential resped would be to shake the very 
 foundations of Anglican episcopacy, for it is the 
 political rock on which the church is built. No 
 wonder, therefore, that the Ad itself should still 
 have its defenders ; but we may well be surprised to 
 find, as we do, that many good men still defend the 
 very way in which it was first carried into effect. 
 One of its modern apologists, having spoken of it as 
 
 * Pearsall's Rise of Congregationalism at Andover, p. 94. 
 
 f Nonconformist's Memorial, vol. iii., p. 244. Many fa6ls like 
 those just cited may be found in the above-mentioned works, and 
 many more in the various records of old Nonconformist churches, 
 as also in family papers and traditions. 
 
I 8 2 THE ACr OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 " absolutely necessary," adds, " on the passing of 
 this A(5l only 2,000 ministers who had appropriated 
 to themselves the livings of the church, refused to 
 conform. These 2,000 are much to be respected 
 for having a6led on conscientious motives ; they 
 followed the example which had been set them in 
 the time of the rebellion by 7,000 clergy of the 
 church of England. The excuse for the Govern- 
 ment after the restoration is,, that their condudl to 
 the Nonconformists was lenient compared with that 
 of the Presbyterians and Independents, when in 
 I power, towards the members of the church."* This 
 I language of a distinguished living clergyman is not 
 I meant to be unfair. It does but describe the trans- 
 , adlion as it is set forth in all the books from which 
 I men educated within the charmed circle of State 
 [ orthodoxy, gain their knowledge of it. But even 
 if, for the sake of argument, we admit the justice of 
 his views, first, as to the province of the magistrate 
 in matters of religion, and then, as to the duty of 
 the State to establish episcopacy alone ; it strikes 
 us as strange that such an accomplished historian 
 should have fallen into the mistakes as to fa6l 
 which disfigure this statement. We are obliged to 
 think there is a mistake as to the fa6l of numbers. 
 Every reader should know that Walker, whose 
 work on the sufferings of the clergy is the ultimate 
 
 * Hook's Ecclesiastical Biography. Art. AUeine. 
 
THE Acr OF uNiFORMirr. 183 
 
 authority for nearly every assertion like this, has 
 been convi6ted of often reckoning each clerical 
 dignity and place as a separate clerical individual, 
 — that, for instance, if one clergyman possessed 
 four dignities, these would be reckoned as four 
 distinct sufferers — that the like is observable in the 
 case of pluralists — and that by this ingenious method 
 the chronicler has conjured up an army nearly 
 8,000 strong.* Calamy says that we can only 
 reckon about 1,700 whose sequestration was cer- 
 tain and undoubted ; and the fa6ts and calculations 
 given by him and others of equally high credit, in 
 support of such an estimate, should at least qualify 
 our willingness to take on trust the statements of 
 the romantic Dr. Walker. It is a mistake to speak 
 of all the sequestered clergy as sufferers for con- 
 science in reference to religion. Only a few were 
 displaced for refusing the covenant, the one simply 
 religious test ; the large majority suffered on fair, 
 evidence for vice, insufficiency, or resistance to 
 Government. Martyrs indeed they were ; but if 
 we may believe a royalist looker-on, " Martyrs for 
 Venus and Bacchus, more than for God and 
 loyalty." Mr. Baxter says, that in all the counties 
 
 * This is demonstrated in the following trafts : — Remarks on Dr. 
 Walker's late Preface to his Attempt, &c., by John Withers, 1717. 
 Vindication of Dissenters from the Charge of Rebellion, lyig^ 
 Calamy's Church and Dissenters Compared, 171 9. Reply of Wither^ 
 to Agate j Appendix. All are in the British Museum Library. 
 
184 "THE ACT OF UNIFORMirr. 
 
 with which he was acquainted, " six to one, at least, 
 if not more, were by the oaths of witnesses proved 
 insufficient, or scandalous, or both."* Fuller, the 
 church-historian, declares '* that many of their 
 offences were so foul, it is a shame to report 
 them."-j- The fads published by authority of 
 Parliament all testify to the same thing.J It is a 
 mistake to assume that the Nonconformist seces- 
 sion was one of numerical insignificance. " Only 
 two thousand ministers were eje6led." But these 
 two thousand ministers were thrust out of the 
 church only because conscience made them un- 
 
 -:= Life and Times of Baxter, p. 74 
 
 f Church History, Cent. XVII., Book xi., pp. 31 — 34.. 
 
 \ The First Century of Scandalous and Malignant Priests, &c. 
 Printed by order of the Committee of the House of Commons, by 
 John White, chairman, 1643. "The introduftion of Bills for the 
 evi£lion of scandalous and inefficient ministers is pretty generally 
 supposed to have been a contrivance of the Long Parliament for 
 mere seftarian purposes. But this is an entire mistake. Laws of 
 this kind, and bearing similar names, had been upon the statute-book 
 ever since the first session of King James's first Parliament, In the 
 Commons'" Journals you may find records of such laws on the 22nd of 
 June, 1604; in the sessions of 1605 — 1606,1609 — 1610, 1620, 1627. 
 The Long Parliament did but put into faithful execution Bills which 
 the Court and the prelates had before systematically gagged." — Mr. 
 James Waylen. The commissioners in the time of Cromwell were, no 
 doubt, often guilty of executing such measures with great severity. 
 But we should hear both sides, and if you read the trafts written to 
 complain of this by some of the sequestered clergy, such as Mr. 
 Bushnell, Mr. Gatford, Mr. Sadler, and Dr. Pordage, you should in 
 fairness also read the answers to them. Most of them may be found 
 in the British Museum. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 i5 
 
 willing to conform. If conscience had allowed 
 them to be willing, they might have remained in it, 
 however tyrannical the conditions offered them were. 
 It was left with their own conscience to accept or 
 refuse those conditions, for none were excluded, as 
 in the contrasted case, on account of moral or 
 intelle6tual unfitness for their office. Their number, 
 then. It must be asserted, was not small In com- 
 parison with that of the clergy who had been pre- 
 viously sequestered under corresponding circum- 
 stances. It was not small in comparison with that 
 of any similar secession in former days. Even one 
 of their antagonists has said, " It may be observed 
 of the clergy of olde that in Henry the Eighth's 
 time, they were first for the Pope's supremacy, and 
 then for that of the King ; with King Edward the 
 Sixth, they were all Protestants ; with Queen Mary, 
 Papists again ; with Queen Elizabeth, they faced 
 about, and of 9,000, only 400 stood firm."* We 
 are inclined to think that this secession of 2,000 
 clergymen, made voluntarily, and simply for the 
 sake of principle. Is a fa(5l without parallel, and is 
 the glory of Puritan history alone ; it certainly 
 seems unfair to insinuate that It was comparatively 
 an insignificant thing. There Is also an obvious 
 mistake as to the question of comparative leniency. 
 The eje6led Episcopalians were allowed a fifth part 
 
 * Clerico Classicum, by John Price, 1648, p. 18. 
 
I 86 THE ACT OF UNIFORMIIT. 
 
 of their livings, on retirement; — the ejedled Pres- 
 byterians had no such allowance. So far from this, 
 the terms of conformity were imposed before Michael- 
 mas, when the payment of the year's tithes would be 
 due ; they were therefore deprived of their last year's 
 income, and in many instances reduced to absolute 
 want.* Still further, to borrow the language of a 
 clergyman of that day, whose views on this subjed 
 differ essentially from those of his brother divine 
 just quoted, " The plunderings and ravages of the 
 church ministers were owing, many of them at 
 least, to the rudeness of the soldiers and the chances 
 of war ; they were plundered, not because they 
 were Conformists, but because they were Cavaliers. 
 .... Who can answer for the injustice of adlions 
 in a civil war ? . . . but these ministers were ejedled 
 not only in a time of peace, but in a time of joy to 
 all the land, and after an A61 of Oblivion, when all 
 pretended to be reconciled and made friends, and 
 to whose common rejoicing these suffering minis- 
 ters had contributed by their earnest prayers and 
 great endeavours." f In honour to the church 
 of England (we are still speaking as Anglicans), 
 let us be slow to confess the shameful faith that it 
 
 * St. Bartholomew's day was pitched upon, that, if they were 
 thus deprived, they should lose the profits of the whole year, since 
 the tithes are commonly due at Michaelmas. — Bishop Burnet, vol. i., 
 p. 184. 
 
 f Conformists' First Plea, pp. 12, 13. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 187 
 
 is essential for it to retain as its Magna Charta the 
 A61 which Archdeacon Hare so righteously brands 
 as '^ that most disastrous, most tyrannical, and most 
 schismatical A(5l of Uniformity;" but if, indeed, I 
 we must confess it — if, with the dean of Chichester, 
 we feel compelled to say that it was " absolutely 
 necessary " to pass that Ad — absolutely necessary 
 to exclude from the church-system sandlioned by 
 the State a host of men called, by John Locke, 
 " worthy, learned, pious, and orthodox divines," — 
 men who will ever be revered as chief among the ' 
 creators of our noblest theological literature, — men 
 so great and holy, that no true student of their 
 books and lives can fail to see that in the former, 
 they alone, among the men of their day, represented 
 the first teachers of the English reformed church, 
 and that in the latter, they alone represented its 
 first martyrs — if we really do think all this was 
 absolutely necessary in order to establish the church ; 
 then, soul-struck with shame, let us at least deplore 
 that the miserable expedient of necessity was not 
 brought about in a more gradual and considerate 
 way. Sentiments like these will be deepened as we 
 remember the kind of men who remained, when 
 the Puritans were gone. Take the account given by 
 = a beneficed clergyman, who wrote the year after the 
 Aft of Uniformity came into force. In his tra6l 
 the church of England is personified, and thus 
 made to speak ; her first com.plaint is of undue 
 
THE ^Cr OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 ordination : — " Of young men, I have a call of 
 3000. . . . Those pulpits that were filled 
 with ancient fathers are now desks for young chil- 
 dren . . Of debauched men ordained I have 1500." 
 Is there any need of authorizing 
 patterns of impiety ? Alas ! a man at once a divine 
 and a beast ! Consecrated to God, and devoted to 
 sin ; an abomination in the holy place. . . Of 
 unlearned men ordained, I am ashamed to see a 
 roll of 426 tradesmen introduced in four years. 
 Of facflious ministers now ordained 1342, 
 must a sad race of Dissenters run parallel with the 
 orthodox succession. Alas, to see men once Pres- 
 byterians, then Independents, now Episcopal ! Is 
 a good living their only creed, and a good prefer- 
 ment their only confession of faith ? * It was a 
 miracle that Peter could convert 3000 at one ser- 
 mon ; it's nothing now, that his Majesty hath con- 
 verted such multitudes by the glance of his eye !" 
 The church then complains with indignant elo- 
 quence of the habits of the clergy, " Reverend in 
 funftion, yet shameful in lives ! Ministers, yet 
 given to wine ! In holy orders, yet in riotous dis- 
 order ! Bound to walk circumspeftly, and yet reel ! 
 
 * By " a sad race of Dissenters," the clergyman means all the 
 ministers who had been ordained to officiate in the Establishment 
 during the twenty years preceding the Aft of Uniformity ; it 
 appears that 1,34.2 of these now submitted to be ordained a second 
 time ; and he regrets that they were not all unconditionally ejefted. 
 
THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 Conversation in heaven, yet in alehouses and 
 taverns ! Studying eternity, yet trifling away time ! 
 In communion of saints, yet in the company of the 
 scorner. I thought," she continues, " the late 
 complaints of scandal were only from malice and 
 hatred. Holy men excused you, but now you re- 
 fute and contradidt them. You must needs justify 
 malice itself." She further says, " Out of 1 2,000 
 church livings, 3,000 or more are impropriate, and 
 4,165 non-resident livings ; what a poor remainder is 
 there left for a painful and honest ministry ! "* 
 
 The argument was not all on the side of the 
 ejefted ministers. They suffered cruel wrong, but 
 it might have been shown that much of their suf- 
 fering only resulted from the working of some of 
 their own principles in other hands. In the opinion 
 of most modern Dissenters, it might have been 
 said to them, — You complain that Government has 
 decided against the interests of true religion, but a 
 representative Government can only represent the 
 average ethical character of the people ; and until 
 the people are truly religious, it is only likely to 
 decide against the interests of true religion. Indi- 
 vidually, or through their representatives, those 
 who are not '' spiritual men," are not judges of 
 spiritual things,"]- and are of course utterly unquali- 
 
 * Extrafts abridged from a pamphlet called Ichabod ; or. Five 
 Groans of the Church. Cambridge, 1663. f i Cor. ii. 
 
190 
 
 THE ACT OF UNIFORMITY. 
 
 fied to legislate for the church as to what doftrine 
 shall be trusted as true, what worship shall be 
 observed as scriptural, and what discipline exercised 
 as wise or holy ; if, therefore, they ever do venture 
 to legislate in a province so foreign to their own life, 
 it is only natural that the results should be like 
 those you now deplore. You complain that the 
 church is not at liberty to decide for itself in things 
 relating to itself; but when any church is connedled 
 with a free State, it cannot itself be free. It may 
 not appoint a minister, nor make a form, nor use a 
 prayer, without permission. Though a heavenly 
 thing, it must be ruled by an earthly thing ; that is, 
 by worldly policy. Like everything else conne6led 
 with the State, it is so, that it may be ruled, and it 
 may not rule the rulers. You complain of your 
 ejedion, but when in your official capacity you 
 received State endowment, in justice to the nation 
 you were, in that capacity, placed under State con- 
 trol. From the nature of the case, your power 
 depended on the life of a ruler, or on the trembling 
 balance of a parliamentary majority. The State 
 was your master ; every master may dismiss his 
 servant when the services are no longer required. 
 Your services were no longer required, therefore it 
 is not of the fa6l of your dismissal that you should 
 complain, but only of its circumstances. You com- 
 plain that Episcopalians employ the powers of the 
 State to enforce their ecclesiastical order on you ; 
 
THE AC-r OF UNIFORMITY 
 
 191 
 
 but you once employed those very powers to 
 enforce yours on them. You complain of the 
 demand for uniformity ; but some of you demanded 
 uniformity. You complain of the schismatical 
 spirit that excludes from the communion and 
 ministry of the church, men like Baxter and Howe, 
 on account of their Presbyterianism or Indepen- 
 dency ; but some of you were guilty of exadly the 
 same spirit, when you excluded such men as 
 Bishops Hall and Taylor on account of their 
 Episcopacy. Doubtless, the charge against the 
 ministers of having helped the enforcement of uni- 
 form worship ought to be greatly qualified. Under 
 Cromwell, ministers of all denominations were 
 allowed to take part in the religious endowments of 
 the nation. For political reasons alone, the forms 
 of Episcopacy were forbidden, but even the Epis- 
 copalian clergy shared the common privilege. 
 They were not required to pledge their assent to 
 anything contrary to their own peculiar tenets, they 
 were only required to promise their obedience to 
 the existing Government. Having taken such an 
 engagement, multitudes exercised their ministry, 
 and some even continued to use the Book of Com- 
 mon Prayer.* Thus qualified, the charges now 
 
 * A clergyman who lived in those times says, " I can reckon 
 up many clergy that had livings in Cromwell's day in the City, and 
 preached without any let. There were Dr Hall, Dr. Ball, Dr. Wilde, 
 Dr. Hardmg, Dr. Griffyth, Dr Peirson. Dr. Mossome, A. Faring- 
 
92 
 
 THE yiOr OF UNIFORMITT. 
 
 expressed might have been brought against some 
 of the ministers with substantial justice ; but after 
 all attempts to plead for the A6t of Uniformity as 
 an ad; of imperious necessity, or of wise precaution, 
 or of measure for measure, we are obliged to regard 
 it as one of the most wonderful adls of wickedness 
 ever wrought under pretence of supporting the 
 cause of that kingdom which is not of this world. 
 
 don, and many more, besides abundance in every county." — Confor- 
 mists' Plea. These instances might be indefinitely multiplied. 
 Doftor (afterwards Bishop) Bull used the liti r^y at St. PhilipV, 
 Bristol j Sanderson used it in his parish of Boothby Pagnell, and 
 when informed against, a message was conveyed to him expressing 
 the reludance of those in power to abridge his liberty. — Izaak 
 Walton. 
 
chapter IX. 
 
 OBlack 15att})olomcU) ant) tbe Ctno 
 Q@ini;5tcr0, 
 
 " Must I be dr'tHjen from my bookes ? 
 
 From house and goods, and dearest friends P 
 One of thy snveet and gracious lookes. 
 
 For more than this ivill make amends ! 
 As jor my house it avas my tent, 
 
 IVhile there I nxiaited on thy flock ; 
 That "work is done, that timt is spent. 
 
 There neither ntoas my home nor stock. 
 Would I in all my journey have 
 
 Still the same inne and furniture P 
 Or ease and pleasant d^wellings crave. 
 
 Forgetting ivhat thy saints endure P 
 My Lord hath taught me hovo to vuant 
 
 A place ivherein to put my head ; 
 While He is mine, Vll be content 
 
 To beg or lacke my daily bread. 
 Heaven is my roofe, earth is my floor e. 
 
 Thy love can keep me dry and vuarm, 
 Christ and thy bounty are my store ; 
 
 Thy angels guard 7ne from all harm. 
 
 O 
 
194 
 
 BLACK BARmOLOMEW 
 
 * 
 
 As for my friends, they are not lost j 
 
 The sever all vessels of thy fleet. 
 Though parted ?ioia;, by tempests tost, 
 
 Shall safe lie in the ha'uen meet.''' 
 
 RICHARD BAXTER, I 662. 
 
 HE appearance of "Black Bartholomew" 
 at Taunton was ushered in by many- 
 forerunners of evil omen. The day of 
 delirious joy at the King's return was 
 followed by many years of disaster. Most Chris- 
 tian men of various professions had hailed the 
 enthronement of a prince whose title was undoubted, 
 whose rule might reconcile all parties, and whose 
 sacred word, already pledged, might give to their 
 " Gospel day" a security of continuance — the one 
 thing it wanted. His public ads soon woke them 
 from their dream, and their loyalty was turned 
 into gloomy estrangement, created by the King's 
 treachery to the nation, and confirmed by the vin- 
 diftive spirit of the successful party towards their 
 own town. Before the first year was out, this was 
 shown in an attempt, by means of a forged letter, 
 to involve some of the most influential Noncon- 
 formists there in the charge of a desperate plot 
 against the new Government. 
 
 Colonel Francis Basset, a Taunton Baptist, was 
 the son of Admiral Sir Francis Basset, of Cornwall; 
 a stanch friend to church and king, and a devoted 
 lover of game-cocks ; who, no doubt, was as highly 
 
AND 'THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 9S 
 
 exasperated by the degeneracy of his son, as Admiral 
 Penn was by the unsound principles of William. 
 It was pretended that the letter in question was 
 written by this young colonel to a friend ; and the 
 scheme was contrived with a view to ruin not only 
 him and his provincial associates, but with them, 
 certain eminent men of the same religious persuasion 
 in London. Having referred to the death of the 
 Princess of Orange, he is made to say — " There 
 are many that groan to see these times, and the 
 King's unfaithfulness, and the breaking of his cove- 
 nant, that they do not fear to do anything for their 
 liberty. Therefore, pray brother Jesse, and as many 
 as are at hand of the brethren, not to draw back their 
 hands from doing the Lord's work ; for it is said by 
 the Lord that * One shall frighten a thousand ;' 
 and, therefore, lay hold on the Lord s promise, for 
 His word is true, and there are thousands of His 
 saints who will be ready to lay down their lives to 
 do the work of the Lord. We desire you to be 
 careful to get into your hands powder and arms, 
 as many as you can, between this and Easter. 
 . I pray let this be shown to my brother 
 Jesse and brother Kiffin."* The letter was in • 
 
 * Letter from B. F. (Col Francis Basset) to Nathaniel Crabb, at 
 his house in Gravel Lane. Taunton, 23rd Dec, 1660. Endorsed 
 by Nicholas as received, 9th Oftober, i65i ; and the original 
 delivered by Captain Will. Dale to the Lord General. It seems 
 probable that this letter was intended to suggest a suspicion that the 
 O 2 
 
1 96 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 tercepted ; Kiffin, Jesse, and Crabb were arrested, 
 and their fate seemed to be hopeless. While the 
 soldiers were guarding them to Serjeants' Inn, the 
 place appointed for their examination, a great con- 
 course of people gathered round the coach, crying 
 out, " Traitors, rogues, hang them all !" When, 
 however, they were brought into the presence of 
 Judge Foster, Kiffin triumphantly proved the docu- 
 ment to be a forgery ; first, because it was dated 
 
 Baptists were parties to Venner's insurreftion j but, according to 
 Jessey, Venner declared that there was not one Baptist in his party, 
 and that if they succeeded, the Baptists should know that infant 
 baptism was an ordinance of Jesus Christ. — Crosby's History. 
 In 1 66 1, Jessey and the leading Baptist ministers signed a memorial 
 to the King respefling Venner's insurreftion, in which they say, 
 " We appeal to the all-seeing God, the Judge of all the earth, to 
 
 vindicate us In whose presence we protest that we 
 
 neither had the least knowledge of the said late treasonable insurre6lion, 
 nor did any of us, in any kind or degree whatever, direftly or indi- 
 reftly, contrive, promote, assist, abet or approve the same." — Thomas 
 Grantham, Christianismus Primitivus, book iii., chap, i , p. 9. Besides 
 the paper discussed above, others are preserved at Whitehall with 
 reference to supposed plots among the country Baptists.^Katherine 
 Hurlestone to Secretary Nicholas, 6 Febi-uary, 1661. Papers by 
 Nicholas on Mr. Ratcliffe. Sir John Finch to Lord Conway, and 
 other documents among the State Papers for 1661. It Is just possible 
 that these were not all forgeries. There were then living many persons 
 made mad by oppression, beclouded in their judgment by their train- 
 ing in the school of war, and still further misled by the then too 
 common habit of taking precedents of aftion from the stories of a 
 repealed economy, and the martial achievements of faith wrought by 
 " Gideon and Barak, Samson and Jephthah, David also, and Samuel 
 and the Prophets j" and it is not unlikely that some of these persons 
 were ready to draw the sword for liberty. 
 
y^ND THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 197 
 
 three days before the Prhicess died ; next, because 
 the interval between the time of her death and the 
 time of their arrest, was too short to allow of a 
 letter to be sent from London to Taunton with the 
 tidings from the Court, and then for a letter to come 
 from Taunton to London in consequence.* Never 
 was the father of lies convi6led of a more artless 
 oversight, or a more unaccountable lapse of memory. 
 Perhaps the excuse was, that he never before had 
 so much bewildering work upon his hands. The 
 case was clear ; the prisoners were acquitted ; the 
 Somersetshire people were of course also cleared of 
 the charge, and went their way exultant, but burn- 
 ing with a stern indignation. 
 
 This letter is to be seen in the State Paper 
 Office, but without any marginal intimation that it 
 is a dete6led forgery. Attention has just been 
 called to it by the new Catalogue of the Series of 
 Domestic Papers relating to the opening events in 
 Charles the Second's reign. Most likely some 
 writers are preparing to use it, and others like it, 
 as evidence to justify the proceedings of the Carolist 
 Government against the Nonconformists ; but let 
 the fadt just related be a warning against trust 
 in such documents as independent materials of 
 history. 
 
 The people of Taunton continued to suffer from 
 
 * Remarkable Passages in the Life of William Kiffin, pp. 28 — 32. 
 
1^8 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 the malice of their adversaries. In the year 1662, 
 they received stroke upon stroke of outrage. First 
 came news of the insults offered to the body of 
 their own dead hero, Admiral Blake. It had been 
 buried in Westminster Abbey, as a distinction due 
 to one whose name will ever be one of England's 
 glories. It had been followed thither by Taunton 
 men, all filled with venerating love bordering on 
 worship ; but now, by order of the Council, it was 
 torn from the grave and flung with many other 
 bodies into a pit in St. Margaret's churchyard. 
 They were not afraid of Blake now! Living or 
 dead, it was an honour to any man to be disowned 
 by that base age ; but, at the time, the intended 
 indignity alone was felt. Next came the order 
 for the demolition of their town- walls. To mark the 
 King's displeasure at the part the people took in 
 the wars of the Parliament, those walls to which 
 they had been accustomed to point with pride, and 
 which had witnessed that noble defiance of despotic 
 power, whose wonders, it has been said, " would 
 give life to a story that should outlive the world," * 
 were so effedlually levelled, that the present in- 
 habitants are unable to trace where they stood. 
 Next came the law which displaced the members of 
 their corporation, and along with it came the 
 rumour of an impending enadment, which soon 
 
 * Savage's History of Taunton, p. 423. 
 
AND THE rWO MINISrERS. 
 
 199 
 
 came in force, depriving them of their municipal 
 charter. At last came the A61 of Uniformity, 
 which robbed them of their two beloved ministers. 
 " Before the A61 of Uniformity cam.e forth," 
 writes Mrs. Alleine, " my husband was very 
 earnest, day and night, with God, that his way 
 might be made plain to him, and that he might not 
 desist from such advantages of saving souls with 
 any scruple upon his spirit. He seemed so mode- 
 rate, that both myself and others thought he would 
 have conformed — he often saying, that he would 
 not leave his work for small and dubious matters ; 
 but when he saw those clauses of assent and consent ^ 
 and renouncing the covenant^ he was fully satisfied. 
 But seeing his way so plain for quitting the public 
 station he was in, and being thoroughly per- 
 suaded of this, that the ejedlion of the ministers 
 out of their places did not disoblige them from 
 preaching the Gospel, — he presently took up a firm 
 resolution to go on with his work in private, when 
 his ministry in the church had ceased." "Blessings 
 brighten as they take their flight," and most precious 
 to him were his few remaining opportunities of 
 preaching in the great congregation, and carrying 
 on his work from house to house as a lawful 
 minister. He worked as one who knew that the 
 night was coming when, perhaps, he might no 
 longer work ; and in this spirit he delivered a 
 course of sermons — his last from the churc h 
 
200 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 pulpit — on the words, " Redeeming the time, 
 because the days are evil."* So evil were the 
 days, and so vexed with interruptions, that the 
 ministers were obliged to anticipate the time of 
 ejedtion appointed by the State, preaching their 
 farewell sermons on the Sunday before. 
 
 The wild love and keen sorrow felt by thousands 
 on that final day never can be told. What Mr. 
 Alleine said has not been reported, but we know 
 that in the evening the old pastor preached from 
 the words of Paul, " I am persuaded, that neither 
 death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor 
 powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
 height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be 
 able to separate us from the love of God, which is 
 in Christ Jesus our Lord.""]" As in every other 
 farewell sermon preached on that Sunday, and sur- 
 viving to our own times, there was an utter absence 
 of party spirit, of any attempt to excite pity for 
 the preacher, or anger against his enemies, and the 
 personal allusions were few, simple, manly, and 
 dignified. " It is good," said he, " to part with 
 each other in the consideration of that, from which 
 those that are God's shall never be divided, that is, 
 * the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.' .... 
 As to the particular divine providence now ending 
 our ministry among you, whatever happeneth on 
 
 * Ephesians v. i6. f Romans viii. 38, 39. 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 20I 
 
 this account, let it be your exercise to cry out for 
 the Holy Spirit of Christ, and He will grant you a 
 greater support than you may exped from any man 
 
 whatever The withdrawing of this present 
 
 ministry may be to cause you to pray for this Holy 
 Spirit, day and night ; and Christ promiseth that the 
 
 Father will give it to them that ask it If 
 
 I cannot serve God one way, let me not be dis- 
 couraged, but be more earnest in another. You 
 may also think it is a time for you to exercise what 
 you have learned. God is calling you to see if you 
 have not lost all the advantages He hath allowed 
 you ; * Ye have been a long time learning^ He is 
 saying to you, '• let me now see what you can now 
 do or endure' If you have forgot all, Christ hath 
 made a promise, ^ the Spirit shall bring again to 
 remembrance ' when there is occasion for it. Con- 
 sider, also, Christ is touched ^Yith a feeling of the 
 infirmities of a people in such a condition. Let 
 none of you be troubled in your heart ; you believe 
 
 in God, believe also in Christ Jesus He 
 
 hath promised to give you pastors according to His 
 own heart, that shall feed His flock with truth and 
 with understanding. He can find one, or frame 
 one, that shall fulfil His ministry better than this 
 weak instrument. He is the great Bishop of our 
 souls, and is never non-resident, and hath always a 
 care of His flock. Let not your hearts be troubled, 
 but let us commend you, yea, each other unto God, 
 
20 2 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 and let Him do what is good in His eyes. Let us 
 pray." 
 
 THE PARTING PRAYER. 
 
 " To thee, O Lord Jesus, we commend our- 
 selves : to thee, who judgest rightly, thy poor 
 servant resigneth and committeth this congrega- 
 tion. The Lord pardon unto me wherein I have 
 been wanting to them : the Lord pardon unto them, 
 wherein they have been wanting in the hearing of 
 thy Word, that we may not part with sin on our 
 hearts. Unto thee v/ho judgest uprightly, I com- 
 mend them. The Bishop of souls take care of 
 them ; preserve them from the love of the world ; 
 teach them to wait on thee, and to receive from 
 thee whatever any one, or any family, may stand in 
 need of. 
 
 " Provide them^ a pastor according to thine own 
 will ; only, in the meantime, give us of that anoint- 
 ing which shall lead us out of our own will and 
 wayes, that we may walk in the wayes of the Lord 
 Jesus. The Lord Jesus say now unto them, ' I 
 am your Shepherd, you shall not want.' Say to 
 them, as thou didst to thy disciples, ' Let not your 
 hearts be troubled ; you believe in the Father, 
 believe also in me.' So far as we are able, we put 
 thy name upon them ; we name the name of the 
 Lord Jesus over them. The Lord Jesus bless 
 them ; teach them to follow holiness, peace, and a 
 heavenly conversation. The Lord make them use- 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 203 
 
 ful to each other. The Lord Jesus be a blessing 
 to them, to me, and to all ours. The God of 
 peace and consolation fill them with blessings, 
 according as thou seest every one to stand in need 
 of. To thee, O Father, we commend them ; do 
 thou receive them, that, under thy counsel, they 
 may be preserved blameless until the day of Jesus, 
 when we may all meet, crowned with glory. 
 Amen." 
 
 On the Sunday after the ejedion, divine service 
 was performed In the parish church according to 
 the restored ceremonial. Crowds came to witness 
 it, for In the large population of the town and the 
 near hamlets there were now many who, from 
 various motives, were eager to show that they had 
 no sympathy with the Nonconformists. The ex- 
 citing scene was described in a letter that was sent 
 the next day to the Mercurius Publicus, which is 
 here reprinted for the first time after an oblivion of 
 two centuries : — 
 
 "Taunton, Monday, August 25. 
 " The parish of Taunton in Somersetshire, being desti- 
 tute of a minister to preach, &c., by the nonconformity 
 of iMr. Newton,* a very worthy gendeman, Mr. Thomas 
 James (late of All Soule's Colledge, in Oxford), yester- 
 day being St. Bartholomew's day, supplied his place. 
 The neighbour gentry purposely were there present, and 
 
 Mr. Alleine is not mentioned, because he was only an assistant. 
 
204 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 Mr. James being furnisht with the Book of Common 
 Prayer, church vestments, &c., according to the late A61 
 of Parliament, read the whole service for Morning and 
 Evening Prayer, and christened two children accordingly, 
 and (I cannot but acquaint you) the whole town was 
 present, behaving themselves as if their minister had 
 carried away with him all faction and nonconformity. 
 The church was so very ful that severall persons swounded 
 with the heat ; and to the honour of this town I cannot 
 , J but mind you, that 'tis very observable that a people that 
 '. I have been so ill-taught as they have been, should now 
 obey his majesty and the church according to the A61 of 
 Parliament without the least hesitation. The mayor and 
 aldermen were all in their formalities, and not a man in 
 all the church had his hat on either at service or sermon, 
 which gave the gentry of that county great satisfa6lion, 
 who (to do them justice) deserve thanks for their care 
 and vigilancy in setling the church and county according 
 to the laws established."* 
 
 Affairs being thus vlftoriously " setled," the 
 church was closed for many weeks successively ; and 
 although, after that, a public service was held at 
 rare intervals, the parish had no resident minister 
 for the next nine months. 
 
 From a station of ancient and well-merited fame 
 Mr. Newton was flung at once into obscurity and 
 contempt. He was insulted by name, along with 
 
 * This letter also appeared in the " Kingdom's Intelligencer " of 
 the same date. 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 205 
 
 Others, in a lampoon written by the author of 
 Hudibras, with a view to ridicule the pretensions 
 of Englishmen to liberty of conscience.* He 
 might have said, " Now they that are younger 
 than me have me in derision, whose fathers I would 
 have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock." / 
 When scorn and peril first gathered round him, 
 he seems to have lost heart. For a year or two, 
 he sought concealment in the houses of various old 
 friends in London. There let us now leave him, 
 with the prosped of meeting again before writer 
 and reader part. 
 
 Meanwhile, we have to trace the steps of Mr. 
 Alleine. On the 21st of August, being the 
 Thursday after his farewell services in St. Mary's, 
 he appointed a day of solemn humiliation. What 
 immediately followed will be best related in the 
 language of his widow : — " On the solemn day 
 of humiliation, he preached to as many as would 
 adventure themselves with him at our own house ; 
 but, it being then a strange thing to the most pro- 
 fessors to suffer, they seemed much affrighted at the 
 threatenings of adversaries ; so that there was not 
 such an appearance at such opportunities as my 
 husband expelled. Whereupon he made it his work 
 to converse much with those he perceived to be 
 
 * A Proposal humbly offered for the Farming of Liberty of 
 Conscience, by Samuel Butler. Folio sheet. Guildhall Library. 
 
206 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 most timorous, and to satisfie the scruples that were 
 on many amongst us ; so that the Lord was pleased 
 in a short time to give him such success that his 
 own people waxed bold for the Lord, and His 
 Gospel. And multitudes flocked into the meet- 
 ings, at whatsoever season they were, either by 
 day or night ; which was a great encouragement 
 to my husband, that he went on with much 
 vigour and afFedlion in his work, both of preach-" 
 ing, and visiting, and catechizing from house to 
 house. 
 
 " He went also frequently into the villages and 
 places about the towns where the ministers were 
 gone, as most of them did fly, or at the least 
 desist for a considerable time after Bartholomew 
 day. Wherever he went, the Lord was pleased 
 to give him great success ; many were converted, 
 and the generality of those were animated to cleave 
 to the Lord and His ways. 
 
 " But by this the justices' rage was much 
 heightened against him, and he was often threatened 
 and sought for ; but by the power of God, whose 
 work he was delighted in, was preserved much 
 longer out of their hands than he expe6led. For 
 he would often say, if it pleased the Lord to grant 
 him three months' liberty before he went to prison, 
 he should account himself favoured by Him, and 
 should with more cheerfulness go, when he had 
 done some work. At which time we sold ofl^ all 
 
 / 
 
AND THE TfVO MINISTERS. 
 
 207 
 
 our goods,* preparing for a gaol, or banishment, 
 where he was desirous I should attend him, as I Vv'as 
 willing to do; it always having been more grievous 
 to me to think of being absent from him than to 
 suffer with him. 
 
 " He also resolved, when they would suffer him 
 no longer to stay in England, he would go to 
 China, or some remote part of the world, and 
 publish the Gospel there." 
 
 This last statement brings to mind an interesting 
 fadt. The first Nonconformists were, in England, 
 the originators of Christian missions to the heathen. 
 "When they officiated in our national churches, they 
 were the first who preached and colle(5led money 
 for the work of evangelizing the Indians in America; 
 and when they were cast out of those churches, 
 they still burned with zeal for the same enterprise 
 on a wider scale. " There are many here, I con- 
 jedture," wrote Baxter to Eliot, " who would be 
 glad to go anywhere — to the Persians, Tartarians, 
 Indians, or any unbelieving nation — to propagate 
 the Gospel, if they thought they could be ser- 
 viceable ; but the difficulty of their languages is the 
 
 * Some few articles were reserved ; among these was a clock, 
 which the writer has often seen at the house of the Rev. John 
 Bayly, late vicar of Chilthorne, Somerset. This gentleman 
 claimed relationship to Alleine by collateral descent ; and the family 
 relic in question had been bequeathed to him, with the charge " that 
 he should never part with it unless he wanted bread." 
 
A 
 
 208 BLACK BARTHOLOMEPV 
 
 great discouragement." * It was Baxter " who 
 obtained, through one of his most zealous disciples, 
 the charter which incorporates the original Society 
 for the Propagation of the Gospel." f 
 
 The idea of missions was treated by the party in 
 power with infinite scorn. It could not be understood 
 by men without souls, — they were only disposed to 
 speculate on the sanity of those who entertained it. 
 Basil Kennett, lord bishop of Peterborough, thus 
 commented on the missionary spiritofAlleine and his 
 companions : — '' Even some (the Nonconformists) 
 had a strong impulse, which they termed a call, 
 to go abroad and propagate the Gospel. Thus, Mr. 
 Joseph Alleine, deprived for nonconformity from 
 Taunton St. Mary's, in Somerset, at length re- 
 ceiving a third call for the propagation of the 
 Gospel, he would by all means, forsooth, go into 
 China to do it ! But, being dissuaded by the 
 brethren, he fed the flock of God's people in 
 private." j; Had he gone to China, he would have 
 become the Protestant Xavier. 
 
 * Baxter MSS. 
 
 ■f- Sir James Stephen's Ecclesiastical Biography, vol. i., p. 31. He 
 adds in a note : — " The Society which now bears that name is an 
 institution of later date, founded on the model of that for the esta- 
 blishment of which Baxter laboured, and designed to supersede it j 
 just as the National School Society followed on the British and 
 Foreign School Society, or King's College, London, on the London 
 University." 
 
 \ Kennett's Register, December, 1662. 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 209 
 
 For nine months immediately following his 
 ejedlion he went on with his work, often threatened, 
 yet never actually interrupted. "In these months," 
 continues Mrs. Alleine, " I know that he hath 
 preached fourteen times in eight days, ten often, 
 and six or seven ordinarily, at home and abroad, 
 besides his frequent converse with souls ; he then 
 laying aside all other studies which he formerly 
 so much delighted in, because he accounted his 
 time would be short. The Lord, as he often told 
 me, made his ministry far more easy to him by 
 the supplies of His Spirit both in gifts and grace, 
 as was evident both in his dodrine and life, he 
 appearing to be more spiritual and heavenly and 
 afFedionate than before. The example of his re- 
 solution made the people grow so bold that they 
 came in great multitudes, at whatever season the 
 meetings were appointed, the same persons coming 
 generally twice a Sabbath, and often in the week." 
 
 John Wesley, grandfather of the illustrious 
 founder of Methodism, was his enthusiastic fellow- 
 labourer. He had been eje(5led from his benefice 
 at Whitchurch, in Dorset; and from the nth of 
 March this year until the beginning of May, he 
 was preaching almost every day, dividing his time 
 between Mr. Alleine's people at Taunton and Mr. 
 Norman's at Bridgewater, also occasionally minis- 
 tering to congregations of Baptists and Independents 
 at both places. 
 
 P 
 
2 I O BL^CK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 Mrs. Alleine says : — 
 
 " On Saturday, the 26th of May, about six 
 o'clock in the evening, my husband was seized on 
 by an officer of our town, who would rather have 
 been otherwise employed, as he hath often said, 
 but that he was forced to a speedy execution of the 
 warrant by a justice's clerk, who was sent on 
 purpose with it to see it executed, because he feared 
 that none of the town would have done it. 
 
 " The warrant was in the name of three justices, 
 to summon him to appear forthwith at one of their 
 houses, which was about two miles from the town ; 
 but he desired liberty to stay and sup with his 
 family first, supposing his entertainment there would 
 be such as would require some refreshment. This 
 would not be granted, till one of the chief of the 
 town was bound for his speedy appearance. His 
 supper being prepared, he sat down, eating very 
 heartily, and was very cheerful, but full of holy and 
 gracious expressions, suitable to his and our present 
 state. After supper, having prayed with us, he 
 with the officer, and two or three friends accom- 
 panying him, repaired to the justice's house, where 
 they lay to his charge that he had broken the Ad: of 
 Uniformity by his preaching ; which he denied, saying, 
 * That he had preached neither in any church, nor 
 chappel, nor place ofpublick worship, since the 24th 
 of August ; and what he did was in his own family, 
 with those others that came there to hear him.' " 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 211 
 
 " When that would not do, they accused him of 
 being at a riotous assembly, although there was no 
 business met about but preaching and prayer. 
 Then he was much abused with many scorns and 
 scoffs from the justices and their associates, and 
 even the ladies as well as the gentlemen often called 
 him rogue, and told him that he deserved to be 
 hanged, and if he were not, they would be hanged 
 for him, with many such like scurrilous passages,* 
 which my husband receiving with patience, and his 
 serene countenance showing that he did slight the 
 threatenings, made them the more enraged. They 
 then urged him much to accuse himself, but in 
 vain. Having no evidence, therefore, yet did they 
 make his mittimus for to go to the gaol on Monday 
 morning, after they had detained him till twelve at 
 night ; abusing him beyond what I do now dis- 
 tinctly remember, or were fit to express." 
 
 "As soon as he returned, it being so late, about 
 two o'clock, he lay down on the bed in his clothes, 
 where he had not slept above two or three hours at 
 the most, but he was up, spending his time in con- 
 verse with God, till about eight o'clock ; by which 
 hour several of his friends were come to visit him ; 
 
 * Thii style of conversation was common amongst the ladies after 
 the Restoration. A curious confirmation of this appears in the Life 
 of Col. Hutchinson, whose wife says, " Scurrilous discourse, e--vea 
 among men, he abhorred." — Life, p. 34. Bohn. 
 
 P 2 
 
212 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 but he was so watched, and the officer had such a 
 charge, that he was not suffered to preach all that 
 Sabbath, but spent the day in discoursing with the 
 various companies that came flocking in from the 
 town and villages to visit him ; praying often with 
 them, as he could be permitted. He was exceed- 
 ing cheerful in his spirit, full of admiration of the 
 mercies of God, and encouraging all that came to 
 be bold, and venture all for the Gospel and their 
 souls, notwithstanding what was come upon him 
 for their sakes. For, as he told them, he was not 
 at all moved at it, nor did not in the least repent 
 of anything he had done, but accounted himself 
 happy under that promise Christ makes to His, 
 in the 5 th of Matthew, that he should be doubly 
 and trebly blessed now he was to suffer for His 
 sake ; and was very earnest with his brethren in the 
 ministry that came to see him, that they would not 
 in the least desist when he was gone, that there 
 might not be one sermon the less in Taunton ; and 
 with the people, to attend the ministry with greater 
 ardency, diligence, and courage than before ; assu- 
 ring them how sweet and comfortable it was to him 
 to consider what he had done for God in the 
 months past ; and that he was going to prison full 
 of joy, being confident that all these things would 
 turn to the furtherance of the Gospel, and the glory 
 of God. 
 
 " But he not being satisfied to go away, and not 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 213 
 
 leave some exhortations with his people, appointed 
 them to meet him about one or two o'clock in the 
 night, to which they showed their readiness, though 
 at so unseasonable a time. There was, of young 
 and old, many hundreds ; he preached and prayed 
 with them about three hours. 
 
 "He prayed for his enemies, as the martyr Stephen 
 did for those that stoned him, ^ That God would 
 not lay this sin of theirs to their charge.' The 
 greatest harm that he did wish to any of them was, 
 ^ That they might throughly be converted and 
 san6lified, and that their souls might be saved in 
 the day of the Lord Jesus.' 
 
 "And so, with his yearnings towards his people, 
 and theirs towards him, they took their farewell of 
 each other — a more affeftionate parting could not 
 well be. 
 
 "About nine o'clock he, with two or three friends 
 that were willing to accompany him, set out for 
 Ilchester ; the streets being lined on both sides 
 with people, and many following him on foot 
 several miles out of the town, with such lamenta- 
 tials that (he told me after) did so affe6l him, that 
 he could scarce bear them ; but the Lord so 
 strengthened him that he passed through them all 
 with great courage and joy, striving both by cheer- 
 ful looks and words to encourage them. 
 
 " He carried his mittimus himself, and had no 
 officer with him. When he came to the gate of 
 
214 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 the prison, finding the gaoler absent, he took that 
 opportunity of preaching once more before he 
 entered, which was afterwards considered a great 
 aggravation to his former crimes. When the 
 gaoler came, he delivered his mittimus, and was 
 clapped up in the Bridewell chamber, which is over 
 the common gaol. He found there Mr. John 
 Norman, who, for the like cause, had been com- 
 mitted a few days before him."* 
 
 Crowded in this one apartment night and day, 
 he, with his companions, spent the next four 
 months. Fifty Quakers were there, seventeen 
 Baptists, and very soon thirteen ministers were 
 brought, all taken like himself, for the high crimes 
 of preaching and prayer. The stifling atmosphere 
 was made more stifling still by the many visitors. 
 The summer sun struck fiercely on the roof all 
 day, and so low was the roof-tree, that at night, 
 when lying on their mattresses, they could touch 
 the glowing tiles. Gasping for life, they had 
 sometimes to break the glass, or rend away one of 
 the tiles for air. Night and day they had but the 
 same scanty accommodation ; their beds were their 
 only tables, and all the privacy that they could 
 
 * Mrs. Alleine's Narrative, thus given, does not appear in full in 
 any single edition of the " Life and Letters." After the first edition, 
 some of the fa(5ls were suppressed from prudential motives, and for 
 other reasons, at different times, other fa6ls were added. 
 
AND THE rWO MINISTERS. 
 
 IIS 
 
 contrive, was made by a mat drawn across the 
 room. Night and day their ears were stung by 
 the songs, the curses, and the clanking chains of 
 the felons in the cells below. If they ventured out 
 of their deadly vapour-bath into the prison court, 
 besides these sounds, they were still more afflifted 
 by the sights of loathsome and pestilential wretched- 
 ness that crossed their path, for the criminal 
 prisoners were sure to be all there too. When 
 they rushed back to their chamber, and sought 
 peace in united prayer, sad to say, they were dis- 
 turbed by some of their associates in suffering for 
 conscience sake. Mrs. Alleine says, that " the - 
 Quakers would molest them by their cavils in the 
 times of their preaching, praying, and singing, and 
 would come and work in their callings just by them, 
 while they were at their duties." 
 
 A few words seem needful both to account for 
 the condudt of these poor men, and to describe the 
 circumstances of their imprisonment at the same 
 time with Mr. Alleine. It Is plain that they mis- 
 represented the true principles of Quakerism. The 
 effeence of the system seems simply to be, that the re- 
 ception of Christ into the heart Is the grand essential 
 to salvation. Christ, it is said, does at some period or 
 other visit the heart of every man, for He is the true 
 hght that lighteth every man that cometh into the 
 world. This Inward light may be resisted ; but if re- 
 ceived, it will develope itself in a life of righteous- 
 
 // 
 
12 1 6 BLACK BARrUOLOMEW 
 
 ness,and the man who thus receives Christ will be jus- 
 tified, not indeed by his own works, but by the works 
 of Christ within him. This life is the truth, even the 
 Scripture itself being regarded as secondary and 
 subordinate to it — the mere declaration, not the 
 fountain, and only known to be Scripture by the 
 central testimony of the Spirit. For this reason, 
 all worship must be offered from the immediate 
 di6late of the Spirit of Christ. Baptism and the 
 Lord's Supper must be taken inwardly, not out- 
 wardly, and true religion owns no outward appara- 
 tus, no outward law, or outward force. It was 
 natural for such a system to arise at such a crisis 
 in the history of religious thought. Honest George 
 Fox, its founder, was guiltless of taking the idea 
 from Origen, or the Neo-Platonists, although it 
 glimmers in some of their speculations. He had a 
 deep spiritual nature, that felt unsatisfied on the one 
 hand with the teachings of the Puritans, who too 
 often made religion look like mere mechanical 
 obedience to the letter of the Scripture ; on the 
 other, with the dogmas of the Laudists, who made 
 I it look like a ceremony. Extremes beget extremes, 
 , and in re-a6lion from that " bodily exercise which 
 I profiteth little," he adopted and proclaimed what 
 ' seemed to look like the religion only of a disem- 
 ' bodied spirit. George Fox was often right in his 
 assertions, but often wrong in his denials ; noble 
 truth was honoured, but there was also the error 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 
 
 ■17 
 
 which results from truth pushed too far. To speak 
 with the utmost charity, and to say the very least 
 that may seem severe, there was danger of slighting 
 the historic fadls of Christianity. There was danger 
 lest a theory so delicate and so intensely inward 
 should be misunderstood by followers of coarser 
 natures than his own. There was danger lest the [ 
 religious inquirer should make his last appeal, not I 
 to his Bible, but to himself. It was easy for many 
 a well-meaning though ignorant man to mistake 
 the working of his own impulses for the mystic 
 illapse of the Spirit, and the inward language of 
 nature for the whispers of grace. A spirit which 1 
 he thought was from heaven would often move him 1 
 to interrupt the public worship in the steeple- ' 
 house ; to insult the ministers in the streets ; to 
 scream out frantic announcements of coming wrath 
 upon the land, or to go about in some fantastic , 
 habit for a sign. The doftrine of the inward light j 
 often seemed in its actual workings to be simply 
 the do6lrine that every man may do and ought to do 
 what seems right in his own eyes, whatever law may 
 say to the contrary. Of course it attracted many 
 or the disbanded " Levellers," and many mutinous 
 and discontented persons, who used the system as a 
 mere outlet for the spirit of contradi6lion, or a mere [ 
 pretext for insolence to men in authority. As ' 
 Quakerism had not as yet formed a distincfl Chris- 
 tian community, it had no organic laws by which 
 
21 8 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 it could exclude or disown those who knew nothing 
 of its nature, but who did much evil in its name. 
 These men often suffered as the disturbers of the 
 public peace, and they deserved to suffer. It must also 
 be allowed that even the good men with whom they 
 connefled themselves, often did things with a reli- 
 gious meaning, which were punished by the magis- 
 trates, not on religious grounds, but as the same 
 things would be punished now — that is, simply as 
 sins against society. Yet it must not be denied 
 that a very large proportion of the sufferings en- 
 dured by the Quakers was purely for their views of 
 Christian principle ; and that it was infli6led in a 
 spirit of insane hatred to that principle in whatever 
 form it appeared, but more especially when in the 
 form of demur to the church establishment. This 
 hatred was now heightened by alarm at the rapid 
 growth of Quakerism. By the year 1680, it had 
 reached a numerical strength equal to about one 
 person in 130 of the general population;* at the 
 period of which we are writing it was already 
 immense, and the instances of imprisonment were in 
 proportion. Five thousand Quakers were now in 
 bonds. t 
 
 At Ilchester, besides the fifty in ward with Mr. 
 
 * Rowntiee, p. 76. 
 
 f Sufferers in prison before the Restoration, 3,179 ; sufferers since 
 the King came in, 5,000. — Address to the King and Eoth Houses 
 of Parliament, 1661. 
 
AND THE TfVO MINISTERS. 
 
 219 
 
 Alleine, thirty-one were confined in an old monastic 
 building at the other end of the town. These, one 
 of their pamphlets informs us, " were taken from 
 the highways, from the plough, from their houses, 
 were kicked, beaten, and wonderfully abused ; they 
 were not suffered to have provisions brought them, 
 and the gaoler denied them permission to see their 
 wives and children. Many clothiers were taken 
 away that set many families to work, and some had 
 been driven by horsemen into ditches, some into 
 pools, to the endangering of their lives."* 
 
 Chief in this company of sufferers was John 
 Anderdon,j- a gentleman of Bridgewater. He was 
 a thoughtful and learned man, one of the earliest 
 professors of the tenets taught by Fox, and both 
 by tongue and pen one of their most animated 
 advocates. Eight of his works, all written in 
 prison, now lie before the present writer. When 
 Alleine came to Ilchester, this gentleman was fet- 
 tered to a felon with iron chains ; and with five 
 other Quakers, fettered to five other felons, was 
 often dragged along the streets with pitiless cruelty. 1 / / 
 He lived twenty years in prison, and there at last ' ■ • 
 he died. We must pardon such poor men for 
 
 * Pamphlet 4,230 in the Library at Devonshire-house ; title — 
 This is to thee, O King, and to thy Council, and all the Officers 
 and Magistrates ; 1660. 
 
 •j- TanneTs Leftures on the History of Friends in Somerset. 
 
220 BLACK BARTHOLOMEW. 
 
 their treatment of our own beloved confessor. Life 
 had not been to them a school of chivalry. They 
 had only known controversies where both parties 
 used rough, strong language, asked for no quarter 
 and gave none. They had only seen the worst 
 side even of the best men. After all, many of 
 them were men of heroic piety ; and if some of 
 them, in their treatment of the ministers, displayed 
 all the frenzy of zeal without knowledge or charity, 
 we must remember that the Quakers, who had 
 treated Bunyan, " one of Gog's army,"* in a similar 
 way, afterwards did him a kind service when it 
 came within their power, and that most likely they 
 would have done the same for Alleine. He called 
 them " railing Rabshakehs," and they called him 
 " a murthering priest ;" but if they had been free 
 they would have spent much and travelled far to 
 release him from his bonds, still testifying to the 
 last, that he was " a deceiver of the stock of 
 Ishmael and the seed of Cain." 
 
 When Mr. Alleine arrived at the prison, his 
 first ad; had been to preach and pray, and this he 
 called " holding a consecration service." Subse- 
 quently, and to the last, he and his companions 
 in turn preached and prayed publicly once, and 
 sometimes twice, every day, the minister generally 
 speaking through the prison-bars to the congrega- 
 
 * Term applied by Burrowes the Quaker to Bunyan. 
 
AND THE TWO MINISTERS. 221 
 
 tions that flocked from the various villages within 
 a distance of ten miles.* All the rest of the day 
 he constantly spent in converse with those who 
 thronged to him for counsel and instru6lion ; and 
 in consequence of this, says Mrs. Alleine, he was 
 forced to take much of the night for study and 
 secret converse with God. 
 
 The vitiated atmosphere and staring publicity of 
 the prison-life made it peculiarly hard to one who 
 so loved the bright morning air, and had been 
 accustomed to be so much alone with God in the 
 woods and fields. We are glad to hear that he 
 was soon permitted to curtain off a corner of the 
 room all to himself. It was large enough to hold 
 his bed ; and as Mrs. Alleine had resolved to share 
 his imprisonment, this little triangular space was 
 not a little luxury. After a few weeks he was 
 suffered to walk out for a mile or more into the 
 country, morning and evening, though sometimes 
 interdi6led by the passion of the keeper. His 
 friends brought supplies of money and abundance 
 m. 
 
 * The imprisoned ministers did the same in many other places. 
 A Stuartine poet complains that the Nonconformist 
 " Commits himself to prison to trepan, 
 Draw in and spirit all he can ; 
 P'or birds in cages have a call 
 To draw the wildest into nets, 
 More prevalent and natural 
 Than all our artificial pipes and counterfeits.'"'' 
 
 Pindaric Ode on a Hypocritical Nonconformist. 
 
/ 
 
 222 BLACK BARTHOLOMEfV. 
 
 of wholesome food. His health continued good 
 and his spirit elastic, and " the voice of rejoicing" 
 was often heard in that "tabernacle of the righteous," 
 Ilchester Gaol. 
 
 Mrs. Alleine says: — "On the 14th of July, 
 he was brought to the sessions held at Taunton, 
 and was there indided for preaching on May 17 th ; 
 but the evidence against him was so slender that 
 the grand-jury could not find the bill. So that 
 he was not brought to his answer there at all ; and 
 his friends hoped he should have been dismissed, 
 it being the constant pra(5tice of the Court that if a 
 prisoner be indifted and no bill found, he is freed 
 by proclamation. However, my husband was sent 
 to prison again at the assizes, and to his friends, who 
 expected his enlargement, he said, * Let us bless 
 God that His will is done.' " 
 
chapter X. 
 
 Ctial at Caunton Castle, 
 
 " Though ^wrong in justice-place be set. 
 Committing great iniquitie ; 
 Though hypocrites be counted great, 
 And still maintain idolatrie ; 
 Though some set more by things of nought 
 Than by the Lord that all hath bought : 
 Blame not my lute. 
 
 " Blame not my lute, I you desire, 
 
 But blame the cause that njoe thus play ; 
 
 For burning heat blame not the fire. 
 
 But him that bloiveth the coale airway j ' 
 
 Blameye the cause, blame ye not us. 
 
 That iMe men s faults hanje touched thus : 
 Blame not my lute.'''' 
 JOHN hall's ditty on the wicked state and enormities of 
 
 MOST PEOPLE IN THESE PRESENT MISERABLE DAIES. 
 
 IS judge at the Taunton assizes was 
 Sir Robert Foster,* lord-chief-justice 
 of England. " After the Restoration," 
 remarks Lord Campbell, " it was con- 
 
 * Western Circuit — Mr. Justice Foster and Mr. Serjeant Archer, 
 Taunton Castle, August 24 — Mercurius Publicus, Thursday, July 
 9th, 1663. 
 
224 TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 sidered necessary to sweep away the whole of the 
 judges from Westminster Hall, although they were 
 learned and respe6table men. Immense difficulty 
 was found in replacing them. ... At last, 
 a chief-justice was announced, and his obscurity 
 testified the perplexity into which the Government 
 had been thrown in making a decent choice. He 
 was one of the few survivors of the old school 
 of lawyers which had flourished before the troubles 
 began. He had been called to the degree of 
 serjeant-at-law on the 30th of May, 1636, at a 
 time when Charles the First, with Strafford for his 
 minister, was ruling with absolute sway, — was im- 
 posing taxes by his own authority, — was changing 
 the law by proclamation, and hoped never again 
 to be molested by Parhament."* In his obscurity 
 he might have been thought a man of mean but 
 negative character ; but now, to borrov/ a metaphor 
 which has been applied to another worthy, he had 
 passed the chrysalis state, in which he was only a 
 kind of intermediate grub between sycophant and 
 oppressor, had put off the worm and put on the 
 dragon-fly. It was Judge Foster who brought 
 about the convicflion and execution of Sir Harry 
 Vane. He had treated the Quakers with fierce 
 cruelty, and his present objedl was to exterminate 
 all nonconformity. 
 
 * Lives of the Chief-Justices, vol. i., p. 493. 
 
TRUL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 11^ 
 
 The barrister who engaged to take the lead in 
 the defence was Mr. Thomas Bampfield, brother 
 to Sir John Bampfield of Poltimore. He had 
 been a member of many Parliaments, speaker to 
 the House of Commons in Richard Cromwell's 
 time, and for some years recorder to the city of 
 Exeter. The gentlemen of the west appointed him 
 to carry their '^Remonstrance" to encourage General 
 Monk in bringing back King Charles.* In reli- 
 gious opinion, like his learned brother, f he was a 
 Baptist. Baxter says of him, " He was a man 
 of most exemplary sincerity and conscientious- 
 ness. He never took an oath in his life, till he 
 was a member of the Parliament that brought in 
 the King, and then he was put upon taking the 
 Oath of Supremacy, which I had much ado (he 
 beipg my much dear and valued friend) to persuade 
 him to, so fearful was he of oaths, or anything 
 that was doubtful, and like to sin.":]: Latterly, 
 this spiritual sensitiveness seems to have been 
 attended by great nervous susceptibility ; therefore, 
 * though a very considerable lawyer, he was wont to 
 give his advice at home, and did not appear at the 
 
 * Vindication of Dissenters. — John Withers, 171 7, p. 60. Also 
 State Papers, 1660. 
 
 f Francis Bampfield, M.A., of Wadham College, Oxford. For 
 Christ's sake he suffered many years' imprisonment in various gaols, 
 and in 1683, died in Newgate. — Crosby's History of Baptists. 
 
 X Reliquias Baxteriana, lib. i., part ii , p, 432. 
 
226 TRIyiL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 bar."* His friendship for Alleine tempted him for 
 once to break this rule. Accustomed from birth 
 and office to an honoured place among the calm 
 grandees of England, but now scorned, vilified^ 
 suddenly ruined, just discharged from prison for 
 nonconformity", he certainly had to plead his friend's 
 cause amidst great disadvantages.-)- 
 
 The account of Mr. Alleine's trial, given in his 
 own handwriting, is still preserved amongst the 
 Baxter manuscripts in Dr. Williams's library ; and 
 such is its minute finish and precision as a report, 
 that it almost brings us into the presence of the 
 judge. We seem to see the venomous glitter of 
 his eye, and to hear the snap of his quick, short, 
 sharp, testy sentences. This document has been 
 little heard of, and perhaps never read, since old 
 Richard Baxter brightened his spectacles, and drew 
 nearer the light, the better to decipher its small 
 and delicate lines. It is best, perhaps, to give 
 it entire, although it touches on some fads which 
 have been already related. 
 
 MR. ALLEINE'S CASE. 
 
 Joseph Alleine was taken up May 23, 1663, 
 
 * Life of Rosewell, p. 63. 
 
 f There seems to be a reference to this gentleman's friendship in the 
 following passage from Alleine's letter to *' Pylades." " I find some 
 jealous passages in thy last lines. But canst thou think that T. B. 
 can be put in ballance against my old friend, my own, my covenant 
 Pylades ?" 
 
TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. IT] 
 
 by a warrant from M. Clarke and M. Sydenham ; 
 and being then accused of preaching, he was by 
 them and M. Hawley charged for breaking the 
 A6t for Vniform (worship), (although the said 
 Joseph never preached in any publique place :) as 
 alsoe for being at a riotous assembly ; although 
 there were noe threats nor dangerous words, noe 
 staves nor weapons ; noe feare so much as pre- 
 tended to be strucke into any ; noe other unlawful 
 businesse met about than to pray for the King's 
 Majesty, themselves, and the peace of the nation, 
 and to instru6t the people (that came in with his 
 own family) their duty to God and their soveraigne ; 
 and prevent those discontents that might arise 
 from their being left quite like heathens ; the 
 meetings at which he was, not being where there 
 was anything done at the church, noe minister 
 being settled in the towne for three-quarters of a 
 yeare together, nor any service of God at all in the 
 publique congregation for very many weeks suc- 
 ^ssively. After his committment, strenuous 
 endeavours were used to get evidence of the fad:, 
 and several were menaced to sweare against him. 
 
 At the sessions, held July 14, he was endidled for 
 preaching on May 17, (when there was no worship of 
 God morning or evening in the publique place, the 
 said Joseph being well-knowne to be a frequenter of 
 the church, when there was any minister to officiate 
 there.) The grand -jury did not find the bill; 
 
 0^2 
 
228 TRUL A-T TAUNrON CASTLE. 
 
 whereupon he expedled to be freed, according to 
 law and justice, but could not obtaine it, though 
 others on the same businesse, their bills not being 
 found, were acquitted. Nor could the saide Joseph, 
 upon his earnest petitioning to the judge and 
 benche, obtain the favour soe much as once to be 
 called, or to appeare before the Court to say a 
 word for himselfe. Yet a justice of peace upon 
 the benche at the assizes did complaine that he was 
 a most obstinate man, and that although they sent 
 for him three or four^times, he would not come to 
 them at the sessions, when he was said to be sent for 
 to the Court. 
 
 At the assizes, when he was againe brought 
 forth, all possible endeavours were made to get 
 evidence against him, and because none could be 
 found in Taunton that could be depended upon, 
 they sought for it at Bridgewater, where there 
 were sundrie persons that were suspe6ted to be able 
 to give evidence against him, sent for by warrants, 
 but got out of the way, onlie some malicious per- 
 sons came, and offered to give evidence, but were 
 rejefted, as insufficient in their testimony. Here- 
 upon, they who had imprisoned Alleine, seeing how 
 much their credit was at stake to prove somewhat 
 against him, since he had bin in prison three 
 months by their meanes, hunted up and downe, and 
 sent officers for those that were suspe(5led to be 
 able to give evidence, many of whom got out of 
 
'TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 IlL) 
 
 the way, and three men were committed to prison 
 by the judge for refusing to give evidence. Strange, 
 that a man should be three months in prison, and 
 then that men should be to seek for, to give 
 evidence against him ! 
 
 Proofe being still short, one of the justices that 
 imprisoned Alleine came to a fellow prisoner, and 
 desired him to give evidence against Alleine, which 
 if he would doe, he himself might fare the better in 
 his cause. To another he came, and tolde him 
 that he was a young man, and capable of prefer- 
 ment, and that it lay in his power to doe them a 
 courtesy, by giving evidence against Alleine; and if 
 he would doe it, he should have the favour of the 
 gentlemen of the Court. What sinister endeavours 
 were used with others, afterwards follows as taken 
 from their owne mouthes ; but when all these vigo- 
 rous attempts would not availe to get more 
 evidence (which lasted from Monday till Wednes- 
 day in the afternoone), they resolved to put to it 
 with what little they had. Wednesday night, 
 Alleine was called for. 
 
 Clerke. — Thou art here indicfled by the name of 
 Joseph Alleine, for that on the 17 th day of May, 
 1663, thou with twenty others, to the jurours 
 unknowne, did by force of armes, unlawfully, 
 routously, riotously, and seditiously assemble 
 and segregate yourselves together, contrary 
 
230 TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 to the peace of our soveraigne lord the King, 
 and to the great terrour of his subjedls, and the 
 evill example of all others. What saist thou, 
 Joseph Alleine, guilty or not guilty ? 
 Alleine. — My lord, before I plead to this indidt- 
 ment, I desire to know upon what account 
 I now stand as a prisoner here, fFor I have 
 bin endi6led for this very thing at the ses- 
 sions, and was acquitted by my country, and 
 yet (I know not by what law) returned to 
 prison againe. 
 Judge. — If there were any such indidment, or 
 proceeding, it would appeare. Where is any 
 such thing to be found ? 
 
 Note. — That my lord had, in court, long before 
 this, called for a coppy of Alleine's indicStment at 
 the sessions, and upon reading of it was very angry 
 with the clerke, and said it was erroneous in 
 omjtibusj and fined him, and blamed the justices 
 about Alleine's indictment, who put it off from 
 one to another, and none would owne it ; and 
 moreover was heard to say, as it was thought 
 in Alleine's case, that " iff he were a divell he 
 should have justice." 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I endeavoured for a coppy 
 of the indi6lment and could not obtaine it, but 
 I shall be ready to prove before your lordship 
 by the oathes of the grand-jury, that I was 
 acquitted ; and I beseech your lordship, as you 
 are counsell for the prisoner, to declare whether 
 
TRUL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 2 '? I 
 
 a man may be indidled for that of which he 
 hath bin acquitted. 
 
 Judge. — If a man be acquitted for a fa6l committed 
 yesterday, and commit the same againe to- 
 morrow, shall he expeft any benefit by plead- 
 ing his being acquitted for the former offence ? 
 
 Alleine.— My lord, that is not the case ; for this 
 indidlment was for the very same day, and 
 is for the very same thing, for which I was 
 acquitted at the sessions. 
 
 Judge. — That does not appeare. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I have offered to prove it by 
 the oathes of the grand-jury, if you would 
 accept it ; and I beseech your lordship to call 
 for the records of the session, and there you 
 shall find the indidment recorded, and the 
 ignoramus entered. 
 
 But this was angrily rejedled. 
 
 Alleine. — I beseech your lordship to enquire of 
 M. Hunt, who was judge of the sessions, 
 * and he will be able to informe your lordship 
 that the bill was not found. 
 
 But this would not be granted neither, but he 
 required Alleine to plead presently guilty or 
 not guilty, or else he would forthwithe pro- 
 ceede to judgement againste him. 
 
 Alleine. — If I must plead to such an indidment, 
 my answer is, that as for preaching and pray- 
 ing, which is the truth of the case, if this be 
 
23 2 TRUL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 to be guilty, I am guilty ; but for riotous, 
 routous and seditious assemblies, I abhor them 
 from my heart, and am a loyall subjed of his 
 Majesty. 
 
 Judge. — This is the manner of you and your 
 brethren, you go for to cast dirt upon the 
 Government, as if they were against preaching 
 and praying. Sir, preaching and praying are 
 good, but under pretence of these you 
 seduce the people, and gather proselytes, and 
 it is against your rogueish meetings that we are. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I am humbly glad to heare 
 your lordship declare that praying and preach- 
 ing are not crimes. 
 
 Judge. — Sirrah ! sirrah ! what doe you goe for to 
 catch me ! I said not soe ; but I tell you that 
 it is not against praying and preaching that 
 we are, but against doing it in such a manner, 
 in private conventicles, in a seditious way. If 
 you will pray, there is the house of prayer for 
 you. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I was expressly indided for 
 preaching and praying the last session. 
 
 Judge. — I cannot stand to hear you prate; plead 
 guilty or not guilty. 
 
 Alleine. — Not guilty. 
 
 Clerke. — Then prepare for your answer to-mor- 
 row morning. 
 
 Thursday morning Alleine was sett again 
 
TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 '^33 
 
 to the fellon's bar, and they proceeded to his 
 tryall. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I make it my request to your 
 Honour that I may have Hberty to enter my 
 traverse* to prosecute it the next assizes. 
 
 Judge. — That you shall, but then you must pro- 
 vide me sureties to prosecute it next assizes, 
 and get good security, that you will be of the 
 good behaviour in the meantime. 
 
 Alleine. — As for securities to prosecute my tra- 
 verse, I shall be ready to give them ; but for 
 the good behaviour, I desire your lordship to 
 excuse me ; for I understand that is not usuall 
 in this case, and I beseech your lordship not to 
 turne the water out of the constant course 
 where it hath ever run. 
 
 Judge. — I must tell you that you are a fellow of 
 such evill fame, and I have received such 
 information of you, as are sufficient grounds 
 • for my requiring the good behaviour. 
 
 Alleine. — Your lordship hath noe eyes to see, 
 nor eares to heare, but what is brought here 
 before you, in the publique judicature ; and if 
 any will make it here appeare that I have 
 broke the good behaviour, I shall be ready to 
 give sureties. 
 
 Judge. — The grand-jury have found you guilty, 
 
 * Traverse — to arrest judgment. 
 
234 
 
 TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 and that is sufficient for me to require the 
 good behaviour of you. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, that is not sufficient ground, 
 because I have bin already acquitted of that, 
 for which they have prosecuted me ; and I 
 beseech your lordship will not require the good 
 behaviour of me for that of which I have bin 
 already acquitted. 
 
 Judge. — Noe such matter. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I doe here offer your lordship 
 in the face of the Court, and avow it before 
 my countrey, that I am ready to bring the 
 grand-jury now, to prove it upon their oathes, 
 that I was acquitted ; which this grand-jury 
 might not know. 
 
 Judge. — Sirrah ! will you charge such worthy 
 gentlemen that they did they know not 
 what ? 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I said not that they knew not 
 my case at all, but that they might not know 
 I had bin already acquitted of that for which 
 they have now prosecuted me. 
 
 Judge. — I must have the good behaviour of you 
 {with much -passion). 
 
 Alleine.— My lord, I have done nothing but 
 what belonged to my duty as a minister. 
 
 Judge. — When were you made a minister ? 
 
 Alleine. — Eight yeares since. 
 
 Judge. — By whom ? 
 
TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 ns 
 
 Alleine. — By the Presbytery. 
 
 Judge. — Who gave them power to ordaine ? 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, they have that power by 
 virtue of their office, as they are ministers of 
 Christ. 
 
 Judge. — Your ordination is nothing worth ; you 
 are noe minister. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I hope you will not assert 
 that which shall overthrow all the ministry of 
 the whole Christian Protestant world, except 
 here in England ; for your lordship is not 
 ignorant that they have no other ordination 
 than by the hands of the Presbytery, just as I 
 have. And for my ordination, I shall be 
 ready to maintain it before any whom your 
 lordship may appoint. 
 
 Judge. — You are no minister of England, of the 
 church of England. 
 
 Alleine. — I will undertake to show that in the 
 judgement of many, very many bishops and 
 archbishops of the church of England, ordina- 
 tion by the Presbytery is valid. 
 
 Judge. — I cannot stand here to heare you prate in 
 your self-confidence ; you love to heare your- 
 selfe talke. Will you give me security for 
 your good behaviour or not ? 
 
 Alleine. — If you will have securities for my good 
 behaviour, I desire your lordship to explaine 
 what you meane by this good behaviour. 
 
236 rRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 Judge. — You fit to be a minister, and not know 
 what belongs to the good behaviour ! How 
 can you preach to others and not know what 
 that meanes ? 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, what is vulgarly understood 
 by the good behaviour I know, and in that 
 sense I shall be ready to give securities for it ; 
 but if your lordship by this intends to bind 
 me from my duty, and that which belongs to 
 my office as a minister, I cannot yielde to it. 
 
 My lord being very angrie, the jaylour 
 pulled M. Aleine away ; but he desired, as he 
 was being pulled backe, that if his lordship 
 would not accept of his offers, he might put it 
 upon present issue. But the clerke speakes 
 softly to my lord, in the hearing of a friend, 
 that the evidence was yet very short, and soe 
 his lordship was not ready to heare Alleine. 
 Whereupon he called out a second and a third 
 time that he desired to have it put upon 
 present tryall. Then my lorde spake to the 
 clerke, " Let us then try it presently." So 
 Alleine was put to the barre againe. The 
 first witnesse was John Lake. 
 
 J. Lake. — Once since Christmas, I went to M. 
 Alleine's house to see one that had formerly 
 liv'd with me ; and when I came, I heard him 
 preach in his family. 
 
 Judge. — Were there none but his own family ? 
 
TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 m 
 
 J. Lake. — I know not who were there, but there 
 were many famihes that did hve with him 
 under the same roofe. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I desire that counsell may be 
 heard in my case. 
 
 Judge. — With all my heart ; where are your coun- 
 sell ? 
 
 Alleine. — I desire they may be called. 
 
 Judge. — Do you looke that 1 should call your 
 counsell ? 
 
 Alleine. — No, my lord, I desire the cryer. 
 
 Cryer. — I warrant you have Bampfield. 
 
 Alleine.— Call M. Sidderson and M. Bampfield. 
 
 It must be noted that the day before, M. 
 
 Bampfield, being seen in the Court, Sir Hugh 
 
 Wyndham, foreman of the grand-jury, spake 
 
 in M. B.'s hearing to the judge — "We are in- 
 
 ♦ formed that here is a councellour in the towne, 
 that is come to plead for the ministers, who 
 is an excommunicated person, a Nonconfor- 
 mist, &c., &c. I desire to know of your 
 lordship, whether we shall present him or 
 indid; him .?" Judge — "Which you will, and 
 God's blessing on your hearts." — This was 
 thought to be done to affright M. Bampfield 
 from appearing ; and he not coming, in a 
 cause wherein he was expeded (upon some 
 weighty reasons), it was said by some that 
 they had frighted away Bampfield; but as soon 
 
 -L 
 
23 8 TRUL AT rAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 as he came into the Court, the judge spake to 
 him very angrily, " M. Bampfield, I must 
 tell you, before you plead for another — I must 
 tell you, that you had need answer for your- 
 selfe. You are here presented to me, for being 
 a Nonconformist to the churche of the land, 
 and an abettour of Nonconformists." M. 
 Bampfield answered, " My lord, to that charge 
 I shall answer in due time and place." 
 
 Alleine, — I desire my first witnesse may be heard 
 againe, before my counsell. He was heard, 
 and afterwards another witnesse was called, by 
 name George Tweagle. 
 
 TwEAGLE (/« a hurry). — Upon the 17th day of 
 May, I went to M. Alleine's house, and there 
 I hearde the singing of a psalme, and that 
 was alle. 
 
 Judge. — Were there none there but of his o\yn 
 family ? 
 
 Tweagle (^pulleth at his front hair^ in sign of 
 reverence. ) — Yes. 
 
 Judge. — How many doe you thinke ? 
 
 Tweagle. — I thinke there might be twentie there. 
 
 Judge. — Were there not forty there ? 
 
 Tweagle. — I thinke there were. 
 
 Judge. — Were not sixty there } 
 
 Tweagle {looketh simple). — I thinke there were sixty. 
 
 Judge {mildly). — Come, come, old man, speake 
 the truth and shame the divell ; never goe 
 
TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 ^39 
 
 to helpe a lame dogge over a stile ; were there 
 not eighty there ? 
 
 TwEAGLE (in like mild manner). — Sure, I thinke 
 there might be eighty there. 
 
 Master Bampfield. — Upon the oath that you 
 have taken, did you see M. Alleine there ? 
 
 Tweagle {thundereth out). — Noe. {A pause). 
 
 Bampfield {foolishly). — Did you heare him there? 
 
 Tweagle. — I cannot sweare I did; but I believe 
 it was his voice. 
 
 Bampfield {somewhat nervous). — My lord, it 
 will come to this point in law, whether it can 
 be rout, riot, or unlawful assembly, according 
 to the indidlment, there being no appearance 
 of any fforce, which the law determines to be 
 necessary to every one of these — ffor a riot, I 
 
 * conceive — a riot is when three or more do 
 meet — and by fforce — ffor some unlawful ad:. 
 A riot, I conceive — a riot is when they meet 
 and move towards it — an unlawful a6l by 
 fforce.* 
 
 * What Mr. Bampfield really meant to say may be inferred from 
 the following opinion with reference to another case. It is copied 
 from a MS. in his handwriting, and preserved in Vol. V. of the 
 Baxter MSS. (Treatises) : — " A riot by common law, is when three 
 or more doe any unlawful a6l ; an unlawful assembly, is when three 
 or more assemble to com.mit a riot, and doe not commit a riot. In 
 both cases I conceive the a£l done, or to be done, ought to be such 
 as has force accompanying it ; but I think, beyond doubt, to make it 
 riot, the unlawful a6l ought to be a6tually done, or else 'tis no riot j 
 
2,40 rRUL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 Judge (measuring M. Bampfield with his eye). — 
 You conceive and conceive, but all the country 
 knows that M. Bampfield's conceptions are 
 none of the wisest. A meeting to do that 
 which is not allowed by law, is an unlawful 
 assembly. 
 
 Bampfield. — My lord, this is not my single 
 opinion, but all the bookes that I can meet, 
 do make a force to be necessary to that which 
 in law is called an unlawful assembly. My 
 Lord Cooke, Marrow, and many authours 
 were now cited, and he repeated the evidence 
 above-mentioned to the jury, showing them 
 that here was noe appearance of force, but only 
 peaceable serving of God in instru6ling the 
 family with others, and singing with them, and 
 soe he should leave it upon their consciences 
 whether they could find it according to the 
 indictment, for an unlawful assembly. 
 
 Before the jury went out, the judge spake 
 to them to this effed: : — 
 
 Judge. — You have heard what the witnesses have 
 sworne ; and though the evidence be not so 
 full, I desire you to remember, that the grand- 
 
 and if the aft be not done, 'tis but an unlawful assembly and no riot, 
 which diiference between a riot and unlawful assembly is manifest, 
 and ought not to be confounded." — Legal Opinion (T. B.'s) on Bail. 
 As in Alleine's case no unlawful force was intended, attempted, or 
 aftually used, there was no rout, riot, or unlawful assembly. 
 
TRIAL Ar TAUNTON CASTLE. 24 1 
 
 jury have, partly upon the evidence, and partly 
 on their own knowledge, found him guilty, 
 and they are upon their oathes as well as you. 
 
 Pietirement of Jury. — While the jury were out, 
 it was confidently thought in the Court that 
 Alleine would be found " Not guilty ;" and 
 the sheriffe said to a friend of Alleine's 
 excusingly, " However shorte these witnesses 
 are now, they swore more to the purpose 
 yesterday." 
 
 Verdict. — The jury quickly brought in Alleine 
 Guilty. Mr. Bampfield asked, " What ! 
 guilty according to the evidence of the indid- 
 ment? They answered ^^ guilty of the indi£f- 
 ment" 
 
 Clerke. — In the afternoone, Alleine being set to 
 the barre, was asked by the Clerke what he 
 had to say why judgment should not be pro- 
 nounced ? Mr. Alleine said that he desired 
 his counsell might be hearde. 
 
 M. Bampfield. — Then M. Bampfield urged 
 the invalidity of the indidment, for that in 
 every good indidment of the kind, three or 
 more of the rioters ought to be named, for 
 want of which this was essentially erroneous. 
 Many more things he urged, but was, with 
 much passion, overcome in all. 
 
 Clerke. — Then the Clerke asked Alleine whether 
 he had anything further to say. 
 
 R 
 
242 TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 Alleine. — My lord, I am glad that it hath ap- 
 peared before my countrey, that whatever I am 
 charged with, I am guilty of nothing but 
 doing my duty ; all that did appeare by the 
 evidence being, that I had sung a psalme, and 
 instructed my family (others being there), and 
 both in mine owne house ; and if nothing 
 that hath been urged will satisfy, I shall with 
 all cheerfulnesse and thankfulnesse accept what- 
 soever sentence your lordship shall pronounce 
 upon me, for so good and righteous a cause. 
 
 Judge. -Inasmuch as you are the bell-wether of 
 a naughtie flocke, and a ringleader of evil 
 men ; and this county, and especially this 
 place, are noted for these seditious meetings, 
 by reason whereof the King and the Counsell 
 are in many feares, and new warres like to be 
 hatched, and as you doe, insteade of repenting, 
 aggravate your fault by your obstinate car- 
 riage, the judgment of the Court is that you 
 be fined a hundred markes, and lie in jayle 
 till you have paid it, and given security for 
 the good behaviour. 
 
 Alleine. — Glory be to God, that hath accounted 
 me v/orthy to suffer for His Gospell ! 
 And soe he drew off the barre. 
 
 Note. — The evidence upon which Alleine 
 was found guilty at the assizes, was the very 
 same upon the insufficiency whereof he was not 
 
 \ 
 
rRIj4L AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 243 
 
 found guilty at the sessions ; J. Lake and G. 
 Tweagle being the only witnesses in both 
 cases. What handsome attempts, in their want 
 of evidence, were used to get it, further 
 appeares by this that is subjoyned. 
 
 John Lake sales that he was threatened by 
 J. W. and R. H., that if he would not take an 
 oathe against Mr. Alleine for preaching divers 
 times since Bartholomew day, they would send 
 him to gaole, swearing awfully in their talke. 
 
 Tweagle saithe that he was vehemently urged to 
 sweare before the justices, and that they used many 
 arguments with him, both by persuasions and 
 threatenings. Among the reste that noe dammage 
 should come to him, for which they offered to lay 
 'Mowne £c^. But if he would not sweare, he should 
 lose Sir WilHam Porteman's* custome, and Mr. H. 
 saide he would rid him out of the lande. 
 
 Mr. Norman was next placed at the bar. The 
 following is a specimen of what passed between him 
 and the judge In the course of the trial : — 
 
 " Sirrah, do you preach ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " And why so, sirrah ?" 
 
 * "Sir William Portman ; in hopes to be a lord, much priest- 
 ridden." — Andrew Marvell. List of principal Labourers in the great 
 designs of Popery and Arbitrary Power. Amsterdam, 1677. 
 
 R 1 
 
244 TRIAL AT TAUN-TON CASTLE. 
 
 " Because I was ordained to preach the Gospel." 
 
 " How were you ordanied ?" 
 
 *^ In the same manner as Timothy." 
 
 " And how was that ?" 
 
 " By the laying on of the hands of the presbytery." 
 
 The judge said to himself, in a musing way, 
 " Ordained like Timothy ? Timothy ?" He had 
 met with a person of that name somewhere, but 
 now, not being able to recal the particular case 
 referred to, he prudently changed the subject. Still, 
 the question troubled his mind, and shortly after, 
 when a gentleman called at his lodgings on business, 
 Sir Robert kept him waiting two hours in an ante- 
 chamber. On his appearance " he gave for his 
 excuse that he had been searching his books about 
 an odd answer a fellow made him in the West, who 
 told him that he was ordained like Timothy, by the 
 laying on of the hands of the presbytery, which he 
 could make nothing of." 
 
 Calamy says, that " although Mr. Norman was 
 a man of a very grave presence and carriage, the 
 judge treated him very roughly." After he had 
 been thus roughly addressing him, and at the same 
 time pouring unmeasured contempt on other Non- 
 conformist ministers, Mr. Norman " with great 
 gravity told him that their learned education In the 
 university, and holy calling in the ministry, not 
 stained with any unworthy adllon, merited good 
 words from his lordship, and better usage from 
 
TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 245 
 
 the world." This woke up a fresh tempest of 
 invedllve. " Sir," answered the prisoner, '■'^ you 
 must ere long appear before a greater Judge to give 
 an account of your actions j and for your railing on me^ 
 the servant of that great Judged Perhaps Mr. ! 
 Norman saw the shadow of coming death on the i 
 face of the poor old man who glared upon him, ' 
 trembling and white with passion — this was only a 
 natural perception ; but when the judge died sud- 
 denly on the circuit, in little more than a month 
 after,* the country people remembered the speech, 
 and called it a prophecy. 
 
 On his way back to Ilchester Gaol, whither he 
 was taken in pursuance of a sentence like Alleine's, 
 the officers insisted upon stopping to rest at the 
 sheriiFs house. Lady Warre, the sheriffs wife, 
 came to look at the prisoner and to insult him with 
 cruel taunts. Among other things, she said, " Mr. 
 Norman, Where is your God now ?" "Madam," 
 he replied, "have you a Bible in the house?" 
 " Yes ; we are not so heathenish as to be without 
 a Bible." A Bible was brought, and turning to 
 the prophecies of Micah, he read the words — 
 " Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy ; when I 
 fall, I shall rise ; when I sit in darkness, the Lord 
 shall be a light to me. I will bear the indignation 
 
 * Sir Robert Foster died 4th of Oftober, 1663, and was buried at 
 Egham in Surrey. 
 
246 TRIAL AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 of the Lord, because I have sinned against Him ; 
 until he plead my cause, and execute judgment for 
 me : He will bring me forth to the light, and I 
 shall behold His righteousness. Then she that is 
 mine enemy shall see it., and shame shall cover her 
 which said unto me^ Where is the Lord thy God ? 
 Mine eyes shall behold her ; and now shall she be 
 trodden down as the mire in the streets."* The 
 lady retired in silence, and " the dealings of God with 
 the family not very long after," adds the narrator, 
 " made this to be remembered." These tv/o inci- 
 dents will serve to show the half-superstitious re- 
 verence in which many of the people regarded the 
 sufferers. They looked upon them as the people 
 of Scotland did upon the martyrs of the covenant, 
 who were often supposed to speak in " something 
 like prophetic strain." They saw in them the 
 " spirit and power" of the old seers, of whom they 
 were daily reading — the same san6lity — the same 
 intense life — and it would have been no surprise 
 to find that in some awful moments they were 
 gifted with the same strange intelligence. This 
 disposed them to hear as prophecies, words that 
 were only meant as warnings ; and stories of things 
 that mysteriously came true, just as they had pre- 
 dided, long haunted the country-side. It was 
 partly owing to this, in a few cases at least, that 
 
 * Micah vii. 8, 9, 10. 
 
TRI^L AT TAUNTON CASTLE. 
 
 247 
 
 witnesses against them were found with so much 
 difficulty. Many were "wilhng to wound, but 
 afraid to strike." Hundreds of men in Taunton, 
 haters of the Gospel, who might have appeared 
 against Alleine, hung back — some indeed from 
 shame, some from a sense of honour, but some 
 from " fear of a judgment." Sudden calamity, it 
 was said, had often lighted on informers, and it had 
 been known to come in fulfilment of something the 
 persecuted men had spoken. 
 
 >( 
 
'i*"^ 
 
 chapter XI. 
 Doings in 3lcb^$ter (^aoL 
 
 " Though men may keep my out^ward man 
 Within their locks and bars. 
 Yet by the faith of Christ I can 
 Mount higher than the stars.''"' 
 
 JOHN bunyan's prison hymn. 
 
 LCHESTER, says an old chronicler, 
 " is a little town in no wise remarkable, 
 save that it sendeth two burgesses to 
 Parliament." This statement does it 
 injustice. It is remarkable for its historical prison. 
 It is remarkable for having had there, in Protestant 
 times, and simply for proclaiming Protestant truths, 
 without the permission of a Protestant State, some 
 of the best ministers of religion known in any age. 
 It has the honour of having been the scene of more 
 imprisonment for righteousness' sake than most other 
 country towns were, during the same period of time 
 — the time when, in the language of John Bunyan, 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 24p 
 
 — , 
 
 " Those who had most of the spirit of prayer were ' 
 all to be found in gaol ; and those who had most , 
 zeal for the form of prayer were all to be found at ,' 
 the alehouse." The scandal of this distindlion, if ' 
 there be any, rests with those in whom the respon- 
 sibility centered, but the glory belongs to Ilchester. 
 After the assizes, the prisoners were greatly 
 multiplied. Mr. AUeine and his friends were placed 
 in their old chamber, where they suffered all their 
 old grievances. Amidst the clatter and tinkle of 
 tools plied by industrious Quaker fingers " for a 
 sign," and the war of crossing voices at the same time 
 raised against them " for a testimony," they re- 
 sumed their old engagements. The ministers still 
 continued to preach, generally through the window- 
 grate; but this part of the labour was now 
 lightened, owing to the greater number who could 
 officiate in turn. The names of the preachers 
 cannot now be all ascertained ; but amongst them, 
 besides those already given, were the following : — 
 Mr. Stephen Coven, late recflor of Sanford Peveril, 
 then well known by his book called " The Military 
 Christian. — Mr. Thomas Powell, M.A., late of 
 St. Sidwell's, Exeter, an Independent minister, 
 author of several works still highly valued. — Mr. 
 Humphrey Phillips, M.A., of both universities, 
 and fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford ; he 
 had already been in the prison several months, 
 and, several months after this, he was taken one 
 
250 ' DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 snowy day to the prison at Wells, where he was 
 put into a chamber which he said was " like unto 
 Noah's ark, full of all sorts of creatures." — Mr. 
 Henry Parsons, a learned man, who, like South, 
 had been episcopally ordained by one of the 
 deprived bishops ; but who, not having South's 
 flexible principles, could not give unfeigned assent 
 and consent to all and everything in the new Book 
 of Common Prayer. The usual consequences fol- 
 lowed. He was not imprisoned with the others at 
 the summer assizes ; but one day, some time after, 
 the door opened and he dropped down among them 
 — wet, soiled, ghastly, and marked- with blood. 
 He had been serving Alleine's bereaved people at 
 Taunton, and had now been brought to the gaol 
 diredl from a numerous congregation to which he 
 had been preaching. The officers had pulled him 
 from his horse at the beginning of the journey, 
 and by strokes of their riding-whips had driven 
 him along the rough road on foot. — Mr. Tobias 
 Willes, one of the Baptist ministers at Bridgewater, 
 who, writing at the time to the churches at Chard 
 and Wedmore, thus expressed himself: *'For our 
 profession we are now in bonds, as many of our 
 fellow-brethren are ; yet notwithstanding do hope 
 that the Gospel shall no whit suffer loss thereby, 
 but shall more abundantly break forth in power 
 and purity, and shall run conquering and to con- 
 quer. Oh, brethren, go on, though you are in the 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 1^\ 
 
 wilderness, look to the cloud of God's presence ; 
 we have no cause to discourage you from what 
 we find, for God is very good to us. Here 
 strangers do not intermeddle with our joys ; we 
 have liberty in bonds ; yea, the greatest liberty is 
 here. Therefore, brethren, do not fear, gird up 
 the loines of your minds, and be sober and hope to 
 the end ; trim your lamps, see that each has oil in 
 his vessel, for the night is upon us, and at mid- 
 night there was a great cry made, * Behold the 
 bridegroom cometh !'"* The name of one more 
 minister was on this illustrious roll-call, and he was 
 the Nestor of the company, who on many accounts 
 deserves more particular attention. 
 
 This was Mr. John Torner, M.A., late parish 
 minister of North Cricket. In the war he had been 
 chaplain to the regiment of Sir John Fitzjames. So 
 highly was he esteemed by Mr. Edmund Prideaux, 
 attorney-general to the Long Parliament, that at 
 the commencement and close of every session the 
 two friends used to spend a day of prayer together. 
 He was now nearly seventy, but still sound in body 
 and strong in spirit. In religious decision, stern, 
 straightforward, fearless ; in natural temper, hope- 
 ful and cheerful ; in bodily presence, if the pidure 
 before our minds be corredl — 
 
 * Letter from Ilche^ter Gaol in 1663, signed by Tobias Willes 
 and S. Wade. — Baptist Register. 
 
252 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 " A man of glee, 
 With hair of glittering grey ; 
 As blithe a man as you could see 
 On a spring holiday." 
 
 Old as he was, he seemed to retain all the fire of 
 youth, and could lift up his voice like a trumpet. 
 The roll of that great voice was amazing. It was 
 unquestionably a rare gift ; but as Nonconformist 
 ministers were commanded to be silent, he hardly 
 knew what to do with it. At last, his friends 
 invented a way of turning it to a useful account. 
 Tradition says that he was wont to hold a service 
 with his family in one of the cellars of Ford 
 Abbey. There he sat in the open door-way — all 
 the other doors and windows in that part of the 
 house being left open up to the attic. The whole 
 place was soon filled with John Tomer's thunder. 
 If, at the same time, every room happened also 
 to be filled with quiet people on a visit to Mr. 
 Prideaux — even if a few villagers happened to be 
 standing in the dark among the trees outside — how 
 could he know, or why need he care, for what harm 
 was he doing ? A father was teaching his own 
 children — " that was alle." Only his children and 
 grandchildren were in the cellar with him, and was 
 that an unlawful assembly ? He afterwards found 
 that while he had been innocently sitting at the 
 cellar-door talking to the family within, he had 
 also been preaching to ten or twelve different con- 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL, 
 
 ^S3 
 
 gregatlons — preaching to them all at once, though 
 they all met at different places, and he had not 
 been present at one of them. Truly it was won- 
 derful, but was it wicked ? Romanist saint never ' 
 wrought a greater miracle, but what law did it - 
 break ? Unhappily, the interpreter of the law ' 
 decided against him ; and John Torner, instead of • 
 being canonized, was sent to prison as a warning , 
 to all sinners. ' 
 
 Even there, scope was found for his peculiar 
 faculty ; for after preaching his own sermonsd own 
 to the congregation in the street, he would rehearse 
 the sermons of others, and transmit messages from 
 his brethren whose exhausted voices unfitted them 
 to speak for themselves. One day, the veteran 
 was holding forth from the window in his own 
 hearty way, when the gaoler fired at him. Owing 
 to a sudden movement of his head, quite acci- 
 dentally as it seemed, the shot missed.* *' The 
 circumstance of being fired at," remarks a judicious 
 writer, " is apt to produce a momentary confusion 
 in a man's ideas." Not so with John Torner ; he 
 continued his discourse, only giving it a personal 
 application to Harrison Skinner,-|- the foolish per- 
 
 * A soldier shot a brace of bullets at Vavasor Powell, when he was 
 preaching from the window of his Montgomery prison, but God 
 preserved him. — Life and Death of Powell, 1672, p, 125. 
 
 f Harrison Skinner was appointed in 06lober, 1660. — State 
 Papers. 
 
2 54 DOINGS IN ILCHESTF.R GAOL. 
 
 son who had discharged the pistol, addressing him 
 in language so nervous and racy that he " did make 
 him quake and tremble." Mr. Torner was kept 
 in prison five years, but it is cheering to know that 
 he lived to the age of 94, in great honour and com- 
 fort ; and that before he died, many persons assured 
 him that they owed all their happiness to his prison 
 sermons. 
 
 There must have been something highly exas- 
 perating, you are about to say, in sermons that 
 made the gaoler think that he might shoot the 
 preacher, without risk of losing his own place or 
 offending the gentry who had just appointed him. 
 Let us inquire. Torner had no reporter, but we 
 can form some judgment of the kind of preaching 
 in which he took a share, from some surviving 
 specimens of the sermons that were delivered by 
 others in the same course, and of those delivered in 
 like circumstances elsewhere. They were not 
 elegantly finished performances — -that you would 
 hardly expert in discourses preached from so rough 
 a rostrum, and so likely to be interrupted in their 
 delivery by exploding gunpowder. But, on the 
 other hand, they were not wild words flung off in 
 the heat of passion. They were only the ordinary 
 addresses of the Puritan pastors to their flocks, laying 
 down the laws of Christian duty in logical inference 
 from Christian do6lrine, with all their usual learn- 
 ing, and all their usual hair-splitting casuistry. 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 ^55 
 
 When read over now, some of them make us 
 wonder that they could ever have produced a 
 popular effeft. Depend upon it, these cold, heavy, 
 spent thunderbolts were eledlric when they struck. 
 These extin6t sentences were once all flame, and 
 rushed burning from soul to soul ; but their flame 
 was all from Heaven. There was no party spirit 
 in them. They breathed no complaints. They 
 made no allusions to the common trial, except to 
 suggest comfort, to urge constancy, and to enjoin 
 obedience to the magistrate in all things within his 
 province. Their only tendency was to make bad 
 men good, and good men better. 
 
 Here are some extradls from a book by Mr. 
 Norman, evidently the record of sermons preached 
 at this time, and most likely from the prison win- 
 dow. They will help you, not only to know 
 what such exercises were like, but what the people 
 were like who flocked every day from the villages 
 all round, and stood in the streets for hours 
 together to hear them. The subjeft is, " Confess- 
 ing Christ."* 
 
 He first explains what it is to confess Christ. 
 
 * The title is, " Christ Confessed : written by a Preacher of the 
 Gospel, and now a Prisoner." Printed in the year 1665. 4to., pp. 
 114. The work consists of some rough notes which had long been 
 circulated in manuscript, were never intended for the press by the 
 author, but which were at last printed by some stranger. The style 
 is often very loose and wordy, and some of the quotations now given 
 have been abridged. 
 
256 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 " We are to acknowledge our dependence on Him in 
 point of light. He is the only supreme Teacher of 
 the church, and the church is not to admit offices 
 of human invention, nor ordinances of human 
 appointment, nor dodlrines of human imagination. 
 There is no truth which Christ hath taught which 
 we may part with, or must not profess, due circum- 
 stances attending. — We are to acknowledge our 
 dependence upon Him in point of life. He is 
 the only Priest of the church, without colleague or 
 successor ; and we are not to admit any other order 
 of priesthood, or any observances, such as altars and 
 ceremonies, properly belonging to the abrogated 
 priesthood, for to His office pertaineth absolute 
 perfedlion. — We are to acknowledge our depen- 
 dency on Him for laWy that is, for the applica- 
 tion of the work which He has wrought out with a 
 view to the regulation of our lives ; and so it is 
 His sole prerogative to be King and Head of His 
 church, to constitute church laws, to substitute 
 church officers, to institute church seals and cen- 
 sures, and to have the sole investiture of the 
 conscience." 
 
 " Our principles must be seen — they must he ser- 
 viceable. There is not one talent, but it is to trade 
 with. Faith, hope, love, are all for exercise, and 
 so for the praise and honour of the Giver, though 
 not for ostentation by the user." " True grace is 
 compared to light, and to fire, which are not only 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 257 
 
 communicative of their virtues, but carry a self- 
 evidence. Can you believe Christ in your heart, 
 and not confess Christ with your mouths ?" 
 
 " His followers are known by their confession, 
 and by having His Father's name Vv^rltten, not 
 occultly in their backs, or in their breasts, or in 
 their hands, but in their foreheads." " Gird up 
 the loins of your mind, then. A saint ! A Chris- 
 tian ! Yet afraid to confess Christ ! How unlike 
 it is to the spirits of the saints that breathed in the 
 primitive times and stories ! Those offered them- 
 selves frequently to the test and tormentors. They 
 loved not their lives to the death, and suffered joy- 
 fully the spoiling of their goods. What mean 
 these subterfuges and shifting fetches, this shyness 
 and these straitening fears, which so hold or oppress 
 you ? Come, show yourselves to be men, if not 
 saints. Be followers of them who through faith 
 and patience do inherit the promises." 
 
 " There is no time wherein we may do anything 
 contrary to what we should at any time allow to be 
 our duty concerning Christ." Confession of Christ 
 must be maintained, 
 
 " I. Though the defection be never so general. 
 ' Though truth faileth, and he that departeth from 
 evil maketh himself a prey, or is accounted mad,' 
 as in Isaiah's time. Though we should be left 
 alone, as Elijah was ; or have the whole world 
 against one, as Athanasius : yet one Elijah, 
 
 s 
 
258 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER O^OL. 
 
 one Athanasius, must be against all the priests of 
 Baal, against the whole world of heretical and un- 
 godly men. Our rule is_, * We must not follow 
 a multitude to do evil.' We must not be con- 
 formed to this world, we must not run into the 
 same excess of riot, however strange it be reputed ; 
 but keep our uprightness and profession in the 
 middest of a crooked and perverse nation ?" 
 
 "2. Though the danger be never so great , we 
 must hold fast our profession without wavering, 
 and may not cast away our confidence, whatever it 
 cost us. Let the constellation of martyrs excite 
 you. Did they boggle at this duty because it 
 would bring danger? No dungeon, no den, no 
 distress, no stones, no straits, no fire, no furnace, 
 no bonds, no banishment, no bloody tortures could 
 move them from this duty, when they saw ' a mani- 
 fest door open ' for them thus to administer to 
 others' good and God's glory. . . . Doubtless, it 
 was their duty, else they were madmen rather than 
 martyrs. If it were their duty to confess Christ in 
 extremities, how have you got a dispensation ? 
 Cease from the wisdom of this world. If it saith, 
 
 * Better sin than suffer, better turn than burn, 
 better dissemble, or deny, than die, better strain a 
 point in profession than starve in prison,' say, 
 
 * This thy way is thy folly, and will surely issue in 
 damnation.'" 
 
 He thus encourages timid confessors : — 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 1S9 
 
 " You are secured in your lives till you have 
 finished your testimony ; immortal till your wit- 
 ness is delivered and your work is done ; and who 
 can desire to live longer, that liveth for God here, 
 and hopeth to live with God in glory hereafter, when 
 he hath finished his work ? 'Tis said, ^ when the 
 two witnesses had finished their testimony, then 
 (and not till then) the beast that ascended out of the 
 bottomless pit overcame and killed them.'* They 
 never fell, till their testimony was finished. O, ye 
 believers, the year, month, week, day, hour, of 
 your end or death, and of effecting their design, is 
 under a divine limit. When our Saviour taught in 
 the treasury, and therefore to the very teeth of His 
 adversaries, so that they might have easily taken 
 Him (looking at second causes), and by wicked 
 hands have slain Him, yet, full of enraged malice 
 as they were, * no man laid hand on Him.' Why ? , 
 * His hour was not yet come.' But when that hour I 
 came, forthwith they laid hands on Him and led ' 
 Him away. ^ Fear not them that can kill the body,' ! 
 for not only have they no more that they can do, 
 but they are under an almighty restraint in this 
 also. Not only the essential and integral parts of 
 confessors, but ^ the very hairs of their heads ' are 
 under the lock and key, the care and custody of 
 the Lord Christ ; and when you have finished 
 
 * Rev. xii. 7. 
 S 1 
 
26o DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 your course and filled up your confession, let the 
 enemy kill you, he cannot hurt you." 
 
 " You are secured as to your liberty too, so far 
 
 as it will further your testimony. And can you 
 
 reasonably exped or endeavour more ? So long as 
 
 liberty will best serve the ends for which you are 
 
 made, or maintained, or converted, you shall be 
 
 sure to have it, that is, so long as it will be most 
 
 useful for you to serve God by it. He ensured 
 
 Paul as much, and you may by faith warrant your 
 
 interest in the same promises, as far as concerns the 
 
 profession, and your continued liberty will promote 
 
 the same ends." ..." Away with your fears, 
 
 I then, and aft faith. 'Tis true, your profession may 
 
 '; cost some of you a prison ; and what is a prison 
 
 \ with God's presence, and for professing Jesus ? A 
 
 j prison perfumed, a palace, a paradise, a living 
 
 t extacie, a lower heaven, a little emblem of the 
 
 I liberties of eternity, if you will believe the expe- 
 
 ' riences of God's prisoners. . . . Sirs, if you 
 
 ( are good earnest Christians, you have enough not 
 
 ' only to quicken you, but to quiet you when dis- 
 
 ' traded and discomposed, to give cheerfulness when 
 
 . drooping and despondent. Shake off all dis- 
 
 , couragements then ; * Stand fast in the faith, quit 
 
 ( you like men, be strong.' " 
 
 " We must buy the truth at any rate, whatever 
 I it may cost us, but may not sell the truth at any 
 1 rate, whatever it may yield us," 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. l6l 
 
 He thus addresses confessors who may be 
 tempted to equivocate or dissemble, in order to 
 escape the penalties attending decision. 
 
 " IVe may not, in the confession of Christy dissemble 
 in matters of faith. As there was no guile found 
 in the mouth of the Saviour, so neither may there be 
 in the mouth of His saints. . . . Both the 
 dodlrine and the grace of faith is charadlerised by 
 the apostle to be awnoKpiTOQ (i Tim. i. 5 ; 2 Tim. 
 i. 5) unfeigned ; or, as the same word is rendered 
 (Rom. xii. 9), without dissimulation. We are 
 called to a plain confession of our faith in Jesus, 
 and may not seek the covers of ambiguous phrases, 
 or clothe the chaste and holy verities of Christ with 
 the meretricious terms of the heathen or the heretic 
 who examines us, then think to make it up by an 
 after salvo of distinctions. If such frauds in 
 matters of faith were passable, what fools were our 
 Marian martyrs, to deal so openly on the points of 
 merit y satisfa^fion, real presence, — who could but 
 know that those terms might receive a construdlion 
 that comported with the sense of Protestants as 
 well as Papists ; but these holy men of God had 
 better studied the simplicity of the Gospel, than 
 that their confession should be in deceit or guile." 
 
 " We may not by equivocal expressions, or com- 
 pliance with the adversaries' dialed, prevent the 
 trials which are probably not far off. For this 
 doth virtually seek the patronage of their sin to 
 
262 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 the protedion of yourselves. It doth foully slur 
 the evangelical perfedlion, together with your own 
 profession, however you may pre-apprehend a 
 possibility of evading by the door of an after-ex- 
 position and distindion. Nay, this liberty would 
 make void the scope and spirit of confession. 
 This were, indeed, to cover the faith, not to con- 
 fess it. . . . Your business is not to hold fast 
 a form * of safe words,' but of * sound words ;' and 
 I to speak sound truths In sound terms. We are to 
 ' abstain from all appearance of evil in doctrinal 
 1 positions, as well as in dues of pra(5lice. Though 
 Judah be cast among idolaters, Judah must call 
 God * no more by the word Baali, but Ishi,' 
 because, although Baali also signified Lord, it was 
 vulgarly known to be applied to the heathen idol." 
 / " We may not, then, dissemble in words, nor in 
 any other way, when called to a confession of our 
 faith in Christ. There is no allowance to Arrius 
 of the paper in his bosom, nor of the a6ls of the 
 Priscillianists, to lie behind the curtain. These are 
 fleshly artifices that harden the adversaries against 
 the honesty and sincerity of your profession. 
 Your works in this case would give your 
 words the lye. . . . You must avoid not 
 only the sins, but the signs of idolatry." 
 
 " There may be no aft carrying an appearance of 
 Idolatrous worship done by us. God chargeth His 
 people that they shall not herein do like the 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 263 
 
 idolatrous heathen round about them.* How 
 memorable to this purpose are the instances of 
 Eleazer and Auxentius ! Who, though they might 
 preserve their own lives and liberties by such an 
 appearance of conformity, dared not thus stain their 
 holy profession, or scandalize their brethren, or 
 strengthen the hands of their persecutors, — the one 
 by setting the branch of a vine-tree, loaden with 
 clusters, at the feet of Bacchus, his image ; the 
 other, by using his own provision which was lawful 
 for him to eat, yet make as if he did eat the flesh 
 of the sacrifice commanded by the King.j- There 
 may be no allowance of any evil or idolatrous ad 
 of worship done for us . . . and so to have 
 fellowship with a work of darkness which we are 
 rather to reprove. The signal zeal of Valentinian 
 I may not pass by in this particular, who, when 
 the priests had besprinkled him with their paganish 
 holy water, as he passed before Julian into the 
 Temple of Fortune, broke off those parts of his 
 garments on which the water fell, and burned with 
 just indignation against the priest himself." " You 
 countenance a sin negatively when you do not, 
 according to your place, discountenance it, — when 
 you do not what in you lies regularly to reprove 
 it." 
 
 Confession is urged on the ground of God's 
 
 * 2 Kings xvii. 15. fa Mac. vi. iS. 
 
264 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER G^OL. 
 
 glory. " Is not this your end, and doth not 
 conscience di6late the present usefuhiess of this 
 means in order to that end ? Let every tongue 
 confess that Jesus is Lord, to the glory of God 
 the Father. Who may dare to be mute when the 
 Lord is to be magnified ?" 
 
 It is urged on the ground that the Gospel will 
 be best proclaimed by it. " Must we not all pray 
 that the word of the Lord may have free course 
 and be glorified ? Then surely we must, according 
 to our place and calling, do our best and most to 
 promote it. . . . Yea, rather than not profess 
 it, ' you must be partakers of the afflidlions of the 
 Gospel according to the power of God, and not be 
 ashamed of the testimony of the Lord, nor of such 
 as are His prisoners.' " 
 
 It is urged on the ground of the good done to 
 souls by it, especially under the existing circum- 
 stances. " No man should seek his own only, but 
 every one another's welfare. Ye may not hide 
 yourselves in whatsoever concerns your neighbours' 
 estates, but help them even to their straying 
 brutes.* Much less may you hide yourselves in 
 what concerns their souls. Ah, Sirs ! who should 
 be silent when souls lie at stake ?" 
 
 He thus answers the question, whether it be 
 lawful, and when, for persecuted confessors to flee. 
 
 * Deut. xxi. I — 6, 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHE^TER GAOL. lG^ 
 
 " You may take the liberty of flight, if the 
 aforesaid ends will be better furthered by your 
 flight than your stay. In this case, God Himself 
 instructs Elijah to hide himself, first at Cherith, 
 afterwards at Zarepath, for a sanduary. Paul and 
 Barnabas frequently provide for their own safety 
 by a timely retreat from popular fury. The 
 woman flees into the wilderness, and God prepares 
 her not only place and provision but wings for 
 flight." 
 
 " You must tarry, and may not flie without sin, 
 when these ends are best accomplished by your stay. 
 While Paul may best forward the concerns of 
 Christ at Corinth by his continuance there, he will 
 not flinch or flie one foot from thence. Religious" 
 Stephen will ride out the storm at Hierusalem, 
 though it rain stones and slaughter, so long as the 
 Gospel may rise and live by his death and downfal. 
 As you are now circumstanced, will these ends be 
 best provided for by your standing your ground ? 
 Then do not either face about or flie away. Say 
 rather, with stout and resolute Nehemiah, * Should 
 such a man as I flie ? and who is there, that being 
 as I am, would go into the temple to save his life .? 
 I will not go in.' Though our Saviour did pru- 
 dently decline those politic engines whereby the 
 Pharisees did seek to ensnare and apprehend Him, 
 yet when His hour was come wherein He might 
 best glorifie His Father and give an example of 
 
266 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 endurance to His faithful!. He went forth to meet 
 the officers." 
 
 One of the questions discussed is, " To what 
 degree of explicit confession are we bound in the 
 times whereupon we now are cast ?" In answer to 
 this, he says that though no man can be discharged 
 by any peril or calamity whatever from the most 
 open possible profession of Christ, yet sometimes 
 circumstances di6late that the great ends of con- 
 fession may be best advanced by greater privacy in 
 the mode of profession than would be right at 
 other times ; as Christ Himself, under varying 
 circumstances, sometimes preached in a small com- 
 pany, sometimes to the great congregation. The 
 same causes should influence us in the seledlion of 
 the special truth we should most emphatically pro- 
 fess. " It should always be that which is most 
 under present question and contradiction." 
 
 He further speaks of the spirit that will best 
 quicken and encourage a good confession. 
 
 " Quicken and keep up love. If you love 
 Christ, how can you be loath to confess ? Holy love 
 fetcheth in, fixeth, and fireth the interiour mind and 
 exteriour members to and for its beloved ? * The 
 love of Christ,' saith Paul, ^constraineth us (^uwiye) ;' 
 it hath, hems in, and holds in the whole man 
 together, and there is no getting out from the siege 
 and co-arctation of this holy love. Love unites 
 the strength of the soul within itself and upon its 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. l6'1 
 
 obje(5l. . . . Love is venturous, vehement, 
 vidlorious, and will at no hand be flattered or 
 frightened, or beaten from Christ, or any of His 
 concernments. . . . Love makes the cross 
 easie, amiable, admirable, delicious. Did Jacob's 
 service seem but a few daies to him for the love he 
 had for Rachel ? O ! how easie will be the yoak, 
 how light the burden of confession to hearts once 
 overpowered with divine love to this dear Re- 
 deemer ! 
 
 " Quicken and keep up hope. . . . Sirs ! 
 this holy hope will assure and rejoice your hearts, 
 and that in the greatest straits that can come 
 upon you for confessing the name of Jesus. This 
 hath cordial and celestial water in its hand for you, 
 to revive you in every swoon and refresh you in 
 every sadness. O Christians ! ^ rejoice in hope of 
 the glory of God,' and then ' glory in tribulation 
 also.' No marvel if your hearts are sad when your 
 hopes are sunk. Quicken hope, and look to the 
 end !" 
 
 " Quicken and keep up joy. Joy ads upon the 
 doore of the soule to let in all encouraging means 
 and motives. Fears shrivel and contrad the heart, 
 but joy dilates and widens and enlarges it to do the 
 utmost duties and endure the utmost dangers that 
 may come upon us for confessing Christ's name. 
 . . . The joy of the Lord is our strength. . . . 
 ' I am filled with comfort,' saith Paul, ^ I am 
 
268 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 exceeding joyful in all our tribulation. Maintain 
 your comforts, then, as you would maintain the 
 interest of Christ, and let your confession be full of 
 ingenuity and freedom. Count it joy — all joy 
 — when you fall into divers temptations." 
 
 He then proceeds to show that these animating 
 affe6lions are imparted by the Spirit of God 
 through prayer. 
 
 " Be strong in the Spirit. The flesh will pull 
 you back, and at best profits you nothing. The 
 Spirit alone can savingly empower you to a suitable 
 confession. * No man can say that Jesus is Lord, 
 but by the Holy Ghost.' . . . Solicit Heaven then 
 that thou mayest ^ be strengthened with all might 
 by the Spirit in the inner man.' In that thy 
 strength is so little, and the service so great, ply 
 Heaven the harder, and fetch down a daily influx 
 of divine help. . . . Run to Him in every diffi- 
 culty, and repose thyself on Him in every duty. 
 Draw strength from Him that thou mayest declare 
 His sufficiency. ' Blessed is the man, O Lord, 
 whose strength is in thee.' " 
 
 His appeal at the close is a charge to confess 
 Christ " Vnderstandingly, Vndoubtingly, Vndaun- 
 tedly, Vndividedly, Vnfeignedly, Vniversally, 
 Vnoffensively, Vltimately for God." 
 
 We can only spare space for some of his remarks 
 under two of these divisions. " Confess Christ," 
 he says, — 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER G^OL. 269 
 
 " Vndividedly." " Gebal, and Ammon, and 
 Amalek combine in ungodliness, and shall the 
 godly quarrel with each other about the Gospel ? 
 Oh, where are the golden taches of the Tabernacle 
 that should unite the many curtains into one tent 
 of confessions ? Alass ! for the staffe of beauty 
 and the staffe of bands, so strangely broken ! 
 When shall Christians stand fast in one spirit, with 
 one mind, and strive together for the faith of the 
 Gospel, and no more against one another in 
 ungodly fadions ? The unity of confession will be 
 their own glory and His also, whom they confess. 
 'Tis the badge, 'tis the beauty, 'tis the blessing of 
 the church. * My dove is but one,' saith Christ; 
 ' the daughter saw her and blessed her.' Yea, 
 ' there the Lord commandeth the blessing, even 
 life for evermore.' Confesse Christ 
 
 *' Vnoffensively. ' Give no offence, no, not in 
 anything,' nor unto any man, that the blessed 
 Gospel * be not blamed.' Lord it not herein over 
 other men, as if their faith were to be limited by 
 thy faith, much lesse by thy phancie. Be lowly 
 and meek in your answers to them that ask you, 
 yea, though they, are adversaries to you. Set aside 
 whatever matters or modes of expression may 
 justly harden or provoke them, and study to please 
 wherein thou mayest profit them. Comport your- 
 selves agreeable to the circumstances you are in : 
 others may lose the benefit and yourselves the 
 
270 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 blessing of your confession by an unbecoming cir- 
 cumstance therein. Mind what they now can bear 
 who are private men, and whose authority they also 
 bear who are publique magistrates, that your zeal 
 for God may be tempered with submission to 
 governours as it ought, so that they take not just 
 offence." 
 
 While these appeals were sounding from the 
 prison windows, the King came into the neighbour- 
 hood. On the 29th of August he visited Bath, 
 where he remained for a little time to drink the 
 waters and enjoy the gaiety. Addresses full of 
 humility, miracles of metaphor, floods of adoring 
 eloquence were called forth by this amazing adl of 
 royal condescension. The recorder welcomed his 
 Majesty in " a pithie and rhetorical speech," in the 
 course of which he glorified him as " the preserver 
 of all the felicities of the nation," and said, " The 
 greater number of our visitants come to receive 
 health from Vs ; your Majestic (God be prais'd) 
 does us this honour without that necessity, and 
 the very sight of you (for not only is your touchy 
 Sir, medicinall) is able to give more health here 
 than the virtue of all our bathes !"* 
 
 In contrast with this, read an address that was sent 
 shortly before this time from Ilchester Gaol. It was 
 from the Quakers. An epistle from members of 
 
 * The Newes, September, 1663. 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 271 
 
 the Society of Friends to '' Comus and his crew !" 
 Thus they wrote to him whom they called '^ Our 
 good friend Charles :"* — 
 
 " Forasmuch, O King ! as our sufferings are 
 augmented, and our number in this place so greatly 
 increased, as that we cannot any longer well hold 
 our peace, we do in the fear of God, and in true 
 humility in thy sight, in all lowliness of mind, after 
 long imprisonment, present thee, in this thy pro- 
 gress and day of prosperity, with our grievous 
 sufferings for our conscience in things relating to 
 God ; our souls being subjed to the Lord that 
 made heaven and earth : and against thee, O King, 
 have we not done or imagined evil, but do, 
 according to the truth and righteousness in our 
 hearts, desire thy peace and prosperity, and that 
 mercy may establish thy throne in equity and 
 justice. And whereas we who are called fakers y-\ 
 
 * " We are come to testify our sorrow at the death of our good 
 friend Charles, and our joy for thy being made our governour." — 
 Address to James II. Library of Devonshire House. 
 
 •f- George Fox was committed to the Derby House of Correction, 
 06lober 30, 1650, by a mittimus signed by Gei-vase Bennett and 
 Nathaniel Barton. " Barton was an Independent . . . When 
 G. Fox bade him tremble at the word of the Lord, he took hold of 
 this weighty saying in such an airy mind, that from thence he took 
 occasion to call him and his friends, scornfully, fakers." — Sewell. 
 From that time they were generally known under this scornful title, 
 although they declared that their true designation was " The Chil- 
 dren of Light." The people persisted in thinking "Quakers" 
 to be their proper name. One writer seemed to think he had found 
 
272 
 
 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 because of the fear of God, and to keep our con- 
 sciences void of offence, cannot take any oath, 
 many of us are by a severe sentence deprived of all 
 the goods we have in this world, and our wives and 
 innocent children thereby exposed to utter ruin, 
 unless the execution thereof be prevented ; and 
 others by fines beyond their abilities adjudged to 
 perpetual imprisonment ; and that for matter of 
 pure conscience only, and not for any design of 
 evil or wrong intended towards thee, O King, nor 
 any of thy subjecfls, as hath been largely testified by 
 many years' experience through many trials and 
 hardships in bonds, wherein the Lord hath been 
 with us, and preserved us innocent and upright in 
 our hearts toward thee ; and for this we appeal to 
 the witness of God in all men, whether we have not 
 so approved ourselves this day, in the sight of God 
 and man. And as an addition to our present suf- 
 ferings the gaoler's cruelty so abounds, that many 
 of us are likely to be exposed to famishment and 
 utter destruction, being thrust together in such 
 great number, and denied such necessary accommo- 
 dation as is ordinarily given to the worst of men. 
 
 a kind of prophetic reference to them, as such, in the Bible, for he 
 applied to them a text in i Sam. xiv. 15, which he thus translated : — 
 " And there was trembling, or quaking, in the host, in the field, and 
 among the people ; the garrisons, and the spoilers, they also trembled, 
 and the earth quaked; so it was a very great quaking."' — Quakerism 
 UnmasL'd by Will. Prynne of Swainswick, Esq, 1664. 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 273 
 
 besides what is daily further threatened. We 
 therefore, as to our outward man, being objedls of 
 thy mercy and clemency, it being in thy hands to 
 dispose of us at thy pleasure, do in all due submis- 
 sion make an appeal to thee, as unto one who is 
 able to relieve us; and the Lord open thy heart to 
 consider our innocency and distress, and to acquit 
 us from our grievous sentences, and our im- 
 prisonment. And it is the desire of our hearts 
 that in truth and righteousness the God of peace 
 may prosper thee to reign ; and what profit will the 
 death of the innocent be to the King ? 
 
 "From the prisoners called Quakers, in Ilchester, 
 the 4th day of the seventh month, 1663."* 
 
 Strange does it seem to us, that between the 
 writers of these noble and pathetic words, and the 
 ministers who were their fellow-sufferers, there did 
 not exist a more perfed: sympathy. Strange must 
 it now seem to them, as they review their trials from 
 the world of love, for we know they now " see eye 
 to eye, and with the voice together they do sing." 
 
 Let us return to our own company. As the 
 winter came on, the ministers found the cold of the 
 Bridewell chamber as bad to bear as had formerly 
 been its furnace-heat. It had no chimney, and the 
 ragged fradlures of roof or window, once so need- 
 ful, now threatened to be only inlets for the drifting 
 
 * Besse's Sufferings of the Quakers. Somerset. 
 T 
 
274 
 
 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 snow. After long negotiation with the magistrates, 
 and much difficulty, they obtained permission to 
 be transferred to the ward, a place more convenient 
 in every respec5t. 
 
 The first use Mr. Alleine made of this increased 
 seclusion was to write his " Call to Archippus," 
 an eloquent appeal to the Nonconformist ministers, 
 charging them, though in the face of danger and 
 suffering, " to fulfil their ministry," to rally their 
 scattered congregations, — if free, to preach to them 
 just as ever ; or if in prison, to teach them by pastoral 
 epistles. The effedl was immediate and extensive; 
 and proof might be given that the church owes 
 many valuable instruftions, both oral and printed, 
 to the stimulus of these burning lines. 
 
 Next, he wrote an " Exposition of the Assembly's 
 Shorter Catechism,* with an affedionate Letter 
 annexed, and Rules for Daily Self-examination." 
 Dire6lly this was printed, he sent a copy to every 
 family under his own ministerial charge, so that the 
 Christian education of the children might not suffer 
 through the withdrawment of their minister. 
 
 After this he wrote for his flock a treatise called 
 " A Synopsis of the Covenant." This was at first 
 circulated separately, and then included in the 
 Third Part of the Vindicia Fietatis of his father- 
 in-law, Mr. Richard Alleine. The senior John 
 
 * Exposition of Assembly's Catechism, pp. 176. 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 275 
 
 Ryland calls It " that glorious synopsis, the gem 
 of the book." He also wrote the chapter entitled, 
 " A Soliloquy representing the believer's triumph 
 in God's covenant, and the various conflidls and 
 glorious conquests of faith over unbelief." He 
 had contributed before his imprisonment to the 
 first part of the same work.* If it could tell its 
 own story, it would be found that few books could 
 match it for romantic adventures. Sheldon re- 
 fused to license it.f It was published without a 
 license. It was then rapidly bought up, and " did 
 much to mend this bad world." Not being licensed, 
 Roger Norton, the king's printer, caused a large 
 part of the impression to be seized and sent to the 
 royal kitchen. On second thoughts, it seemed to 
 him to be a sin that a book at once so holy and so 
 saleable should be consigned to a fate so obscure. 
 He therefore bought back the sheets, says Calamy, 
 " for an old song," bound them, and sold them in his 
 own shop. This was complained of, the honest 
 man had to beg pardon on his knees before the 
 council-table, and the remaining copies were sen- 
 tenced to be " rubbed over with an inky brush," 
 
 * Mr. AUeine's Vindicite Piciatis appeared successively in three 
 . parts, issued in 1660, 1663, and 1665. 
 
 f In the Aft of 1661, for regulating the press, it was enabled, 
 inter alia, that no book, of divinity should be printed without the 
 license of the lord archbishop of Canterbury or bishop of London for 
 the time being. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 and sent back to the kitchen for hghting fires. 
 The mission of the book was not ended yet. It 
 was re-issued by the author, was read by high and 
 low ; and among other instances of good effefted 
 by it which he Hved to see, was one in the case of 
 a Yorkshire thief, who, attra6ted by the gHtter of 
 its binding, stole it from a stall at Woodend, took 
 it home, read it, then brought it back to the owner, 
 confessing his crime in stealing it, but thanking God 
 for making it the means of his conversion. At 
 the present moment, this book, so eventful in its 
 story, is on its travels in various lands, speaking 
 in various languages, and, we hope, not speaking 
 in vain. 
 
 His labours in the ward were not merely those 
 of a writer. " Here," writes his wife, " he and 
 his companions had very great meetings, week- 
 days and Sabbath-days, and many days of humilia- 
 tion and thanksgiving. The Lord's days many 
 hundreds came." Here, too, he held constant con- 
 ferences with his people ; here he taught all the 
 children who were sent to him, and invented plans 
 for the elder to teach the younger when he was 
 gone. He also sent out catechisms to be distri- 
 buted among the poor families of Ilchester and the 
 surrounding villages. The gaol chaplain falling ill, 
 he dared to take his place, and, until prohibited, 
 was much with the felons, preaching to them, talk- 
 ing to them, and, by gifts to relieve their physical 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 277 
 
 misery, trying to win his way to their souls. 
 Unhasting, unresting, month after month, he thus 
 worked on, and sometimes after these varied toils 
 all day, kept on his day-clothes all night, having 
 only time for one or two hours' sleep ; for he always 
 rose at four o'clock in the morning, to begin those 
 secret prayers which he felt to be more essential 
 than ever. 
 
 Labours like these were not to be tolerated. 
 Merely to punish the "unauthorised ministers" with 
 bonds was a weak leniency, and it really seemed to 
 do more harm than good. Other measures were 
 thought of, as we learn from Mrs. Alleine, who 
 says : — " My husband and brother Norman had 
 many threats from the judges and justices that they 
 should be sent beyond sea, or be carried to some 
 island, where they should be kept close prisoners." 
 " This banishment," she says, " they constantly 
 expeded." Do you know what this meant ? In 
 this and the following reign the sugar-trade had 
 remarkable prosperity.* There was a great desire 
 to procure white labourers instead of negro slaves 
 to work in the West India plantations. f To meet 
 this demand, and at the same time to relieve the 
 
 * In an old folio sheet, 1666 is mentioned as the year of its greatest 
 prosperity. 
 
 f Complaint was sometimes made of the deficiency of white 
 convifts. — Rise and Progress of the West India Colonies, 1690, 
 p. 41. 
 
27' 
 
 DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 country of serious expense, many convi6ls were 
 sent over.* This was an old praftice, and Crom- 
 well had thus punished, for treason, seventy persons 
 who had taken part in the rising of Penruddock 
 and Grove. But it was now occasionally done in a 
 secret and fraudulent way. Certain magistrates 
 were known to take peculiar interest in the prisoners 
 who were sentenced to transportation, and were 
 suspefted of having been anxious to secure the 
 passing of such a sentence, in order that they might 
 receive money for the convi6ls, and virtually sell 
 them to the planters. For the same purpose, some 
 of these guardians of justice used to induce men 
 liable to death or hopeless imprisonment, to escape 
 the terrors of the law, by engaging to go to the 
 colonies for a given period.f Such culprits were 
 employed in grinding, digging, and working at 
 the furnaces ; lived under the lash, were sold from 
 planter to planter, and but few came back to tell 
 the woeful tale.:}: Sound divines like Mr. Alleine 
 and Mr. Norman began to be highly valued by 
 men of that generation, and were considered to be 
 worth at least " from ten to fifteen pounds apiece." 
 This was the estimate formed by Judge Jefferies, 
 twenty years later, of what some prisoners might 
 
 * Lingard's History, 1849, vol. x., p. 183. 
 f The magistrates of Bristol, for instance. 
 X Burton's Diary, vol. iv., pp. 254 to 273. 
 
DOINGS IN ILCHESrER GAOL. 
 
 279 
 
 fetch who were taken in the Monmouth rebelHon.* 
 We should be sorry, however, to be unjust to our 
 friends the Taunton magistrates, for perhaps, after all, 
 they only contemplated a perfedly open transadlion, 
 according to the forms of law ; bringing no pecu- 
 niary advantage to themselves, and having no aim 
 but the honour of the church. We know that the 
 transportation of Nonconformists was now first 
 publicly talked of, and that it was thought the 
 system would work admirably. " Our phanatiques 
 here," wrote the Dover correspondent of The NeweSy 
 a "little later in the year, " begin to be startled 
 with the fear of transportation, hearing that some 
 of their fellows are adjudged to be sent away, 
 which will certainly do much more with them 
 than their imprisonment, where, as the matter is 
 generally handled^ they have more freedom of 
 communicating, and at least as much of scrib- 
 bling as they have abroad."f Along with other 
 matters of gossip and advertisement, the old news- 
 papers contain many notices of Nonconformists 
 being transported to Barbadoes and other places ; 
 but while their fate was talked over by some with 
 brutal jests, by others with heartless indiiference ; 
 while Alleine daily suffered threats from his enemies 
 of being sent into the same dreadful oblivion. 
 
 * Letter dated Taunton, September 19, i( 
 f T/ie Nenves, August 23, 1664. 
 
28o DOINGS IN ILCHESTER GAOL. 
 
 and fully expected that one day they would keep 
 their word and do their worst, his spirit was undis- 
 mayed, and none of these things moved him to 
 make the slightest change in his course. " There 
 is another life after this," said he, in a letter to a 
 friend ; " I regard myself as already in banishment, 
 and am content .... 
 
 " It was the divine argument that Epidletus used 
 for comfort in banishment : Ubique^ habenda sunt 
 coUoquia cum Deo. I met lately with a passage out of 
 one of the Fathers, which I engraved upon my heart. 
 Cut P atria solum placet nimis delicatus est ; Cut omnis 
 Terra Patria, is sortis est ; Cui omnis Terra exilium^ 
 is san^us est. That is worthy of a saint, indeed, 
 to account himself always in the state of banish- 
 ment, whilst in the state of mortality ; like the 
 worthies who sojourned even in the land of pro- 
 mise, as in a strange countrey. Such a sojourner I 
 wish both myself and you ; and may the moveable- 
 ness of our present state fix our desires upon that 
 kingdom which shall never be shaken !" 
 
 Our confessors were not transported from the 
 country, — " the Lord preserving them by His 
 power, and so ordered it that their imprisonment was 
 a great furtherance to the Gospel, and brought 
 much glory to Him."* 
 
 * Mrs. Alleine. 
 
Chapter XII. 
 €artiipl)oma. 
 
 " sacred Pro'vidence, njoho from end to end 
 
 Strongly and s^weetly ?no'vest ! shall I ivrite, 
 And not of thee, through '-whom my fingers bend 
 To hold my quill ? Shall they not do thee right ? 
 
 " Of all the creatures both in sea and land. 
 
 Only to 7nan thou hast made knonvn thy ivays, 
 And put the pen alone into his hand. 
 And made hi?n secretary of thy praised 
 
 GEORGE HERBERT. 
 
 HILE he was a prisoner, it was his 
 custom, until interrupted by press of 
 occupations, to send once a week a 
 letter to his people. This was to serve 
 for a sermon ; and when, every Sunday morning, 
 worthy elder Rossiter carried it round to the various 
 meeting-places, and read it to company after com- 
 pany, it often seemed as if no sermon had ever 
 been so eagerly waited for, or so solemnly received. 
 About forty of these letters have been preserved in 
 different books, besides others addressed to the 
 destitute churches at Luppit, Honiton, and other 
 
28 2 CARDIPHONIA. 
 
 places. Matthew Henry has truly said that they 
 all have " a mighty tin6ture of peculiar prison 
 comforts and enlargements." John Wesley has 
 pointed out their resemblance to those of the eminent 
 Rutherford, and though they are not in the same 
 degree pidturesque with many images, and tinged 
 with the colours of genius, every line is alive with 
 the same holy love. We must not, however, try 
 them by the laws of literary criticism, for they are 
 only the free impetuous overflowings of his full 
 heart — a heart charged with enthusiasm for the 
 glory of his Master, and with a passion of anxiety 
 for the spiritual welfare of his flock. If any study 
 had been spent upon them, it was only to make 
 them so simple that no poor servant from the mills 
 or fields might miss the meaning of a single sentence, 
 or fail to feel its urgency. A few specimens here 
 follow. The first was written a day or two after 
 his first imprisonment by sentence of the county 
 magistrates. 
 
 PREPARE FOR SUFFERING. 
 
 " To ?ny dearly beloved the Flock of Christ in Taunton^ Grace 
 and Peace. 
 "Most DEAR Christians, — My extream straits of time 
 will now force me to bind my long loves in a iew short 
 lines ; yet I could not tell how to leave you unsaluted, 
 nor choose but write to you in a few words, that you 
 should not be dismayed, either at our present sufferings or 
 at the evil tidings that by this time I doubt not are come 
 unto you. Now, brethren, is the time when the Lord is 
 
CJR DIP HON I A. 283 
 
 like to put you upon the trial ; now is the hour of 
 temptation come. Oh ! be faithful to Christ to the 
 death, and He shall give you a crown of life. Faithful is 
 He that hath called you, and He will not suffer you upon 
 His faithfulness to be tempted above what you are able. 
 Give up yourselves and your all to the Lord, with resolu- 
 tion to follow Him fully, and two things be sure of, and 
 lay up as sure grounds of everlasting consolation : — 
 
 " I. If you seek by prayer and study to know the 
 mind of God, and do resolve to follow it in uprightness, 
 you shall not fail either of direction or pardon ; either 
 God will shew you what His pleasure is, or will certainly 
 forgive you if you miss your way. Brethren, fix upon 
 your souls the deep and lively affedling apprehensions of 
 the most gracious, loving, merciful, sweet, compassionate, 
 tender nature of your heavenly Father, which is so great 
 that you may be sure He will with all readiness and love 
 accept of His poor children when they endeavour to 
 approve themselves in sincerity to Him, and would fain 
 know His mind and do it, if they could but clearly see it, 
 though they should unwillingly mistake. 
 
 " 2. That as sure as God is faithful, if He do see that 
 such or such a temptation (with the forethought of which 
 you may be apt to disquiet yourselves, lest you should 
 fall away when thus or thus tried) will be too hard for 
 your graces, He will never suffer it to come upon you. 
 Let not, my dear brethren, let not the present tribulations 
 or those impending move you. This is the way of the 
 kingdom ; persecution is one of your land-marks ; self- 
 denial and taking up the cross is your ABC of religion ; 
 ' you have learnt nothing that have not begun at Christ's 
 cross.' Brethren, the cross of Christ is your crown ; the 
 reproach of Christ is your riches ; the shame of Christ is 
 
284 CARDIPHONIA. 
 
 your glory ; the damage attending stri6l and holy 
 diligence, your greatest advantage ; sensible you should 
 be of what is coming, but not discouraged ; humbled, but 
 not dismayed ; having your hearts broken, and yet your 
 spirits unbroken ; humble yourselves mightily under the 
 mighty hand of God ; but fear not the face of man ; may 
 you even be low in humility, but high in courage ; little 
 in your own apprehensions of yourselves, but great in holy 
 fortitude, resolution and holy magnanimity, lying in the 
 dust before your God, yet triumphing in faith and hope, 
 in boldness and confidence over all the power of the 
 enemies. Approve yourselves as good souldiers of Jesus 
 Christ, with no armour, but that of righteousness ; no 
 weapons, but strong crying and tears ; looking for no 
 viftory but that of faith ; nor hope to overcome, but by 
 patience ; now for the faith and patience of the saints, 
 now for the harness of your suffering grace. O gird up 
 the loyns of your mind, and be sober, and hope to the end. 
 ' Fight not ' but ' the good fight ' of faith ; here you must 
 contend, and that earnestly. Strive not but against sin, 
 and here you may resist even unto blood ; now see that 
 you chuse life, and embrace affli6tion rather than sin. 
 Strive together mightily and frequently by prayer ; I know 
 you do, but I would you should abound more and more. 
 Share my loves among you, and continue your earnest 
 prayers for me, and be you assured that I am and shall 
 be, through grace, a willing, thankful servant of your 
 souls' concernment. " Joseph Alleine." 
 
 " From the common Gaole, May 28, 1663."* 
 
 * Printed May 2, in some of the old copies of his letters. In 
 many of these old copies the dates are inaccurate, and appear to have 
 been added by the printer, most of the MSS. being undated. 
 
CylRDIPHONIA. 285 
 
 When at the Quarter Sessions, July 14, 1663, 
 it was resolved that he should still be kept in prison, 
 although the grand-jury could not find the bill, he 
 wrote next day the following letter to console his 
 people under their bitter disappointment : — 
 
 RIGHT REASONS IN SUFFERING. 
 " To the ?nost loving^ and best beloved^ the Flock of Christ in 
 Taunton^ Grace and Peace. 
 " Most loving and dearly Beloved, — I know not 
 w^hat thanks to render to you, nor to God for you, for all 
 the unexpressable love which I have found in you to- 
 wards me J and not terminatively to me, but to Christ in 
 me ; for I believe it is for His sake, as I am a messenger 
 and embassador of His to you, that you have loved me 
 and done so much every way for me ; and I think I may 
 say of Taunton, as the Psalmist of Jerusalem, ' If I for- 
 get thee, let my right hand forget her cunning ; if I do 
 not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of 
 my mouth.' I would not, my dear brethren, that you 
 should be deje6led or discouraged at the late disappoint- 
 ments: for through the goodness of God I am not downcast, 
 but rather more satisfied than before : and this I can truly 
 say, nothing doth sadden me more than to see so much 
 sadness in your faces. As on the contrary nothing doth 
 comfort me so much as to see your chear and courage. 
 Therefore I beseech you, brethren, faint not because of 
 my tribulation, nor of God's delays, but hold up the 
 hands and the feeble knees. And the Lord bolster up 
 your hands, as they did the hands of Moses, that they may 
 not fall down till Israel do prevail. Let us fear lest there 
 be some evil among us, that God being angry with us, 
 doth send this farther tryal upon us. Pray earnestly for 
 
286 C^RDIPHONIA. 
 
 me, lest the eye of the most jealous God should discern 
 that in me which should render me unfit for the mercy 
 you desire. And let everj one of you search his heart, 
 and search his house, to see if there be not cause 
 there. Let not these disappointments make you to be 
 less in love with prayers, but the more out of love with 
 sin. Let us humble ourselves under the mighty hand of 
 God, and He shall exalt us in due time. And for the 
 enemies of God, you must know also that their foot shall 
 slide in due time. Let the servants of God encourage 
 themselves in their God : for in the things wherein they 
 deal proudly. He is above them : therefore, fret not your- 
 selves because of evil doers; commit your cause to Him 
 that judgeth righteously. Remember that you are bid, if 
 you see oppression of the poor, and violent perverting of 
 judgment and justice in a province, not to marvel at the 
 matter J verily, there is a God that judgeth in the earth : 
 and you have the liberty of appeals : rest in the Lord, and 
 wait patiently for him, and fret not yourselves, because of 
 the men that bring wicked devices to pass : take heed 
 that none of you do with Peter begin to sink, now you see 
 the waters rough, and the winds boysterous : these things 
 must not weaken your faith, for they are great arguments 
 for the strengthening of it. What clearer evidence can 
 there be for the future judgment of the ungodly, and 
 coronation of the just in another life, than the most 
 unjust proceedings that are here upon earth : shall not 
 the Judge of all the earth see right to be done ? We see 
 here nothing but confusion and disorder, the wicked 
 receiveth according to the work of the righteous, and the 
 innocent according to the work of the wicked. The 
 godly perish, and the wicked flourish ; these do prosper, 
 and they do suffer. What, can it be ever thus ? No, 
 
CARDIPHONI^. 2^ J 
 
 doubtless, there must be a day when God will judge the 
 v/orld in righteousness, and re6lifie the present disorders, 
 and reverse the unrighteous sentences that have been 
 passed against His servants. And this evidence is so 
 clear, that many of the heathen philosophers have from 
 this very argument (I mean the unrighteous usage of the 
 good) concluded that there must certainly be rewards 
 and punishments adjudged by God in another world. 
 
 " Neither must these things cool your zeal : now is 
 the time that the love of many doth wax cold : but I bless 
 God it is not so with you : I am sure your love to me is, 
 as true friends should be, like the chimneys, warmest in 
 the winter of adversity ; and I hope your love to God 
 is much more, and I would that you should abound yet 
 more and more. Where else should you bestow your 
 loves ? Love ye the Lord, ye His saints, and cling about 
 Him the faster now ye see the world is striving to sepa- 
 rate you from Him. How many are they that go to 
 knock off your fingers ! Methinks I see what tugging 
 there is. The world is plucking, and the devil is pluck- 
 ing : hold fast, I beseech you ; hold fast, that no man 
 take your crown. Let the water that is sprinkled, yea, 
 rather poured upon your love, make it to flame up 
 the more. Are you not betrothed unto Christ ? Oh, 
 remember, remember your marriage covenant : did you 
 not take Him for richer for poorer, for better for worse ? 
 Now prove your love to Christ to have been a true con- 
 jugal love, in that you can love Him when most slighted, 
 despised, undervalued, blasphemed, among men. Now 
 acquit yourselves, not to have followed Christ for the 
 loaves ; now confute the accuser of the brethren, who 
 may be ready to suggest of the best of you, as he did of 
 Job, ' Doth he serve the Lord for nought ?' And let 
 
288 CARDIPHONIA. 
 
 it be seen that you loved Christ and holiness purely for 
 their own sakes ; that you can love Christ when there is 
 no hope of worldly advantage, or promoting of self- 
 interest in following Him." 
 
 Two days after he was sentenced by Judge 
 Foster to prolonged imprisonment, he addressed a 
 message to his people, part of which is now given. 
 
 '' To those who are in the City of Refuge^ and to those who 
 are only in its Suburbs. 
 
 " Most dearlyBeloved, — I have been through mercy 
 many years with you, and should be willingly so many 
 years a prisoner for you, so I might eminently and effec- 
 tually further your salvation. I must again, yea, again 
 and again thank you for your abundant and intire affec- 
 tions to me, which I value as a great mercy, not in order 
 to myself, if I know my own heart, but in order to your 
 benefit, that I may thereby be a more likely instrument 
 to further your good. Surely, much as I do value your 
 love, yet had I rather be forgotten and forsaken of you 
 all, so that your eyes and hearts might be hereby fixed on 
 Christ. Brethren, I have not bespoken your affeitions for 
 myself. I am perswaded that I should much rather choose 
 to be hated of all, so this might be the means to have Christ 
 honoured, and set up savingly in the hearts of you all. 
 And indeed there is nothing great but in order to God ; 
 nothino- is material as it terminates in us. It matters not 
 whether we are in riches or poverty, in sickness or health, 
 in honour or disgrace, so Christ may be by us magnified. 
 Welcome prison and poverty, welcome scorn and envy, 
 welcome pains or contempt, if by these God's glory may 
 be most promoted. What are we for but for God ? what 
 
CARDIPHONIA. 289 
 
 doth the creature signifie separated from his God ? Just so 
 much as the cypher separated from the figure, or the 
 letter from the syllable, we are nothing, or nothing worth, 
 but in reference to God and His ends. Better were it 
 that we had never been, than that we should not be to 
 Him. Better that we were dead than we should live, 
 and not to Him. Better that we had no understandings, 
 than that we should not know Him. What are our 
 interests unless as they may be subservient to His interest ? 
 or our esteem or reputation, unless we may hereby 
 glorifie Him ? Do you love me ? I know you do j but who 
 is there that will leave his sins for me ? I mean, at my 
 requests. With whom shall I prevail to give up himself 
 in stri6tness and self-denial to the Lord ? Who will be 
 intreated by me to set upon neglected duties, or reform 
 accustomed sins ? O, wherein may you rejoyce me ? In 
 this, in this, my brethren, in this you shall befriend me, 
 if you obev the voice of God by me ; if you be prevailed 
 with to give yourselves up thoroughly to the Lord. Would 
 you lighten my burden ? would you loosen my bonds ? 
 would you make glad my heart? Let me hear of your 
 owning the ways and servants of the Lord in adversity j 
 of your coming in, of your abiding and patient continuing 
 in the ways of holiness. O that I could but hear that 
 the prayerless souls and families among you, were now 
 given to prayer! That the profane sinners would be 
 awakened, and be induced by the preaching of these 
 bonds, which heretofore would not be prevailed with, to 
 leave their drunkenness, their loose company, their lying 
 and deceit, and wantonness ! I warn you of staying in the 
 suburbs of the city of refuge. O what pity is it that any 
 should perish at the gates ! that any should escape the 
 pollutions of the world, and do many things, yea, and 
 
 U 
 
290 CARDIPHONIA. 
 
 suffer it may be too, and yet should fall short of the glory 
 of God, for want of a thorough work of grace ! You 
 halting Christians, that halt between Christ and the 
 world, that are as Ephraim like a cake not turned, pro- 
 fessors that have lamps without oil, that cry Lord, Lord, 
 but do not the will of our Father which is in heaven, how 
 long will you stay in common workings and external per- 
 formances ? Even out of my prison 1 cry after you, and 
 make one tender of mercy more !" 
 
 During the few months just following his 
 renewed imprisonment, he had reason to feel much 
 concerned for the stability of his people, who, every 
 day, had more terrible trials of principle and fewer 
 outward supports. At the beginning of September 
 he writes : — " See to it, my dearly beloved, that 
 you stand fast in the holy do6trine which we have 
 preached from the pulpit, preached from the bar, 
 preached from the prison to you ; it is a Gospel 
 worth the suffering for." At the close of the 
 month he says : — 
 
 " I see so much mercy in this very gaol, that I must be 
 more thankful for this than for my prosperity. Surely the 
 name of the place is, ' The Lord is here :' surely it may be 
 called Peniel. Be strong in the Lord, my brethren, be 
 patient, stablish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord 
 draws nigh. In nothing be terrified by your adversaries. 
 »Now let those that fear the Lord be often speaking one 
 to another. I hear that Satan is praftising to send more 
 ot you after me ; I desire and pray for your liberty ; but 
 if any of you be forced hither for the testimony of the 
 
CARDIPEOTSUA. 
 
 291 
 
 Gospel, I shall embrace you with both arms. Fare you 
 well, my most dearly beloved ; be perfe6l, and be of good 
 comfort ; be of one mind, live in peace, and the God of 
 love and peace shall be with you. My brethren in bonds 
 salute you with much affeifion, rejoycing to behold your 
 order and the stedfastness of your faith in Christ : share 
 my heart among you, and know that I am the willing ser- 
 vant of your faith and joy." 
 
 In the month of Odlober he is told that the 
 courage of some is beginning to waver ; he there- 
 fore sends this earnest message : — 
 
 " Let it not be a strange thing to you, if the Lord do now 
 call you to some difficulty ; forsake not the assembling of 
 yourselves together, as the manner of some is. I plainly see 
 the coal of religion will soon go out, unless it have some 
 better helps to cherish it than a carnal ministrie, and life- 
 less administration. Dear brethren, now is the time for 
 you that fear the Lord, to speak often one to another : 
 manage your duties with what prudence you can, but 
 away with that carnal prudence that will decline duty to 
 avoid danger. Is the communion of saints worth the 
 venturing for ? Shut not up your doors against godly 
 meetings. I am told that it is become a hard matter, 
 when a minister is willing to take pains with you, to get 
 place ; far be this from you, my brethren. What, shut 
 out the word ! Suppose there be somewhat more danger 
 to him that gives the minister entertainment, is there 
 not much more advantage accordingly ? Did not Obed- 
 Edom and his house get the blessing by entertaining the 
 ark there ? or do you think God hath never a blessing for 
 those that shall with much self-denial entertain His mes- 
 
 u 2 
 
L92 
 
 CARDIPHONIA. 
 
 sengers, His saints, His worship ? Are you believers, and 
 yet are afraid you shall be losers by Christ? Do you indeed 
 not know that he that runs most hazard for Christ, doth 
 express most love to Christ, and shall receive the greatest 
 reward ? Away with that unbelief, that prefers the present 
 safety before the future glory." 
 
 In another letter he thus seeks to inspire cheer- 
 ful bravery : — 
 
 " Fear not, little flock ; stronger is He that is with you, 
 than he that is against you. What though Satan should 
 raise all his militia against you ? Adhere to Christ in a 
 patient doing and suffering His pleasure, and He shall 
 secure you. The Lord will not forsake you, because it 
 hath pleased the Lord to make you His people : God 
 hath entrusted you with His Son : you are His care and 
 His charge. Many will be lifting at you, many will be 
 plucking at you, but fear not, you shall not be moved, 
 none shall pluck you out of Christ's hand. He hath all 
 power. — Matt, xxviii. 8. Can omnipotence secure you ? 
 He is all treasures. — Col. ii. 3. Can unsearchable riches 
 suffice you ? In a word, He is all fulness. — Col. i. 21. 
 Can all content you ? Can fulness fill you ? If so, you 
 are blessed, and shall be blessed. 
 
 "Beloved, we lose unutterably for want of considering, 
 for want of viewing our own privileges and blessedness. 
 O man, is Christ thine, and yet dost thou live at alow rate 
 and comfort ? Is thy name written in heaven, and yet dost 
 thou not rejoyce? Shall the children of the kingdom, the 
 candidates of glory, the chosen generation, the royal 
 priesthood, be like other men ? O Christians, remember 
 who and whence you arej consider your obligations, put 
 
CARDIPHONIA. 293 
 
 on a better pace ; bestir yourselves, run and wrestle, and 
 be strong for the Lord of Hosts ; (and earnestly, yet 
 peaceably) contend for the faith once delivered to His 
 saints. What, shall we make nothing of all that God 
 hath said and done for us ? O Christians, shall he that 
 hath gotten an inriching office boast of his booty ? or he 
 that hath obtained the king's patent for an earldome, glory 
 in his riches and honour, and shall the grant of heaven 
 signifie little with thee ? Shall Christ's patent for thy 
 sonship and partnership with Himself be like a cypher? 
 Shall Haman come home from the banquet with a glad 
 heart, and glorying in the greatness of his riches, the mul- 
 titude of his children, and all the things wherein the king 
 had promoted him above the princes; and shall we 
 turn over our Bibles and read the promises, and find it 
 under God's own hand, that He intends the kingdom for 
 us, that He will be a Father to us, that He gives and 
 grants all His infinite perfections to us, and yet not be 
 moved ? Beloved Christians, live like yourselves ; let the 
 world see that the promises of God and privileges of the 
 Gospel are not empty sounds, or a meer crack. Let the 
 heavenly cheerfulness and the restless diligence, and the 
 holy raisedness of your conversations prove the reality, 
 excellency, and beauty of your religion to the world. 
 Forget not your prisoner." 
 
 The secret of spiritual strength is often set forth, 
 and the timid Christian Is summoned to be "strong 
 In the Lord." This passage occurs In one of his 
 appeals : — 
 
 " We must learn to have no subsistence in ourselves, 
 but only in Christ, and to stand only in Him. Study the 
 
2(^4 CARDIPHONIA. 
 
 excellent lesson of self-annihilation. A true Chris- 
 tian is like a vine that cannot stand of itself, but is 
 wholly supported by the prop it leans upon. It is no 
 small thing to know ourselves to be nothing, of no might, 
 of no worth, of no understanding, nor reality ; to look 
 upon ourselves as helpless, worthless, empty shadows. 
 This holy littleness is a great attainment ; when we find 
 that all our inventory amounts to nothing but folly, weak- 
 ness, and beggary ; when we set down ourselves for 
 cyphers, our gain for loss, our excellencies for very 
 vanities, then we shall learn to live like believers, A true 
 saint is like a glass without a foot, that set him where you 
 will, is ready to fall every way till you set him to a prop. 
 Let Christ be the only support you lean unto. When you 
 are throughly emptied and nullified, and see all comeliness 
 to be but as a withered flower, dead, dried, and past reco- 
 very, then you will be put upon the happy necessity of 
 going out to Christ for all." 
 
Chapter XIII. 
 jFrceUom jFounD ann JLo.st 3pin, 
 
 " T/iink 'zvitk mingled joy and fear 
 On the freedom thou hast found j 
 Knoiv, 'while yet ^we linger here. 
 Perils e'uer hem us round. 
 
 " Art thou faithful? then oppose 
 
 Sin and -ivrong -xvith all thy might ; 
 Care not ho^iv the tempest bloivs. 
 Only care to ivin the fight. '''' 
 
 LYRA GERMANICA. 
 
 FTER an imprisonment of twelve 
 months, Mr. Alleine was set free on 
 the 20th of May, 1664.* 
 
 Free at last ! Out again, — out, in 
 the broad, clear glory of the open country. Away, 
 through great spaces, where, amidst scattered 
 clumps of gorse or fern, the sheep are grazing ; 
 through lanes, where high over-head the crossing 
 
 * Twelve months, wanting but three days. 
 
296 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 arches of young foliage make a wavering green 
 radiance ; through woods where hyacinths are all 
 about the oak-tree stems in a rich mist of beauty. 
 " Flowers peep, trees bud, boughs tremble, rivers 
 run." The freed prisoner is alive to all these things ; 
 no man more than he. Like him who wist not 
 that it was true which was done by the angel, but 
 thought he saw a vision, the joy of deliverance will 
 surely be bewildering — he will need a pause to 
 think, to look around him, to drink the air of this 
 May morning, and to feel the ecstacies of escape 
 from his dismal cage. But no, the time is short ; 
 the church is mourning; and just as Paul would 
 have done in like circumstances, he hastens " to 
 work for God more earnestly than ever," for he 
 says, " Necessity is upon me, and woe is me, if I 
 preach not the Gospel !" Obeying this law, we 
 find him preaching to his congregation four times 
 on the very first Sunday after his release. 
 
 Great changes had taken place amongst his 
 people, and many old faces were missing. This 
 was natural ; for, although aftual persecution had 
 not yet been extensively diredled against the so- 
 called laity, the position of a Nonconformist was at 
 best, as it ever must be, one of social indignity and 
 loss. Besides those of his parishioners who had 
 left him out of thoughtful preference for the reli- 
 gion of the State, many others who had once helped 
 to swell the great crowd in his church, were now 
 
FREEDOM FOUND Jlh'D LOST AG^IN. 297 
 
 gone. All who had been Puritans only by acci- 
 dent, — all who had become lax in life, and who 
 were therefore inconvenienced by the laws of Chris- 
 tian fellowship, and the restraints that belong to 
 union with one particular " congregation of faithful 
 men," — all who were bent on finding the easiest 
 path to promotion of any kind, — all who supremely 
 cared for the great prizes of education, — all who 
 were sensitive to what was thought about them by 
 the majority, " Mr. Byends, Mr. Facing-both- 
 ways, and Mr. Anything ; Mr. Worldly-wiseman, 
 Mr. Legality, and that pretty young man, his son, 
 Mr. Civility," — all who were afraid of adopting 
 any form of religion that implied the probable 
 absence of honoured social rank, had gradually 
 dropped away. But it was cheering to find thatj 
 after all, great numbers flocked round him, and all 
 the more cheering, because it might be fairly pre- 
 sumed that those who now remained were at least 
 disinterested and sincere. So large was the con- 
 gregation, that it was needful to make permanent 
 arrangements ' for dividing it into four separate 
 sections on the Sunday, and into many others in 
 the week, that he might preach to each one in suc- 
 cession, and so secure the privilege in turn to all.* 
 On the I St of July, 1664, a month after this 
 
 * Baxter's Introduftion to Alleine's Alarm. Mrs. Alleine's 
 Account. 
 
298 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 arrangement had been made, the Conventicle Adt 
 came into operation. Hitherto the law had only 
 punished the pastors, now its penalties lighted on 
 the flocks. It was enafted that if any person above 
 the age of sixteen attended any meeting under colour 
 of a religious exercise not allowed by the liturgy or 
 pradice of the Church of England, where five 
 or more persons were present besides the house- 
 hold, he should for the first offence suffer three 
 months' imprisonment, or pay a sum not exceed- 
 ing ^5 ; for the second, six months' imprisonment, 
 or pay ;^io; for the third, to be banished to 
 certain specified plantations for seven years. 
 " With refined cruelty it was provided, that the 
 offender should not be transported to New 
 England, where he was likely to meet with sym- 
 pathising friends."* If he returned to his own 
 country before the expiration of his term of exile, 
 he was liable to capital punishment. A jury was 
 unnecessary. A single justice of the peace, and the 
 oath of an informer were sufficient, and this Adl 
 was to continue in force for three years after the 
 next session of Parliament. 
 
 From this time scenes became common such as 
 Mr. Pepys thus describes : — " I saw several poor 
 creatures carried by constables for being at conven- 
 ticles. They go like lambs, without any resistance. 
 
 * Macaulay, 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 299 
 
 I would to God they would either conform, or 
 be more wise, and not be catched !"* All the 
 county gaols, like those in London, were soon 
 filled with Dissenters, and hundreds of families 
 were brought to ruin, either by fines or seizures on 
 property. As usual, the Quakers were the greatest 
 sufferers, and the pamphlets they issued at this 
 time, though sometimes apt to provoke a smile by 
 their quaint wording, furnish accounts of wrongs 
 done to them, which no true man can read without 
 starting to his feet in a storm of indignant emo- 
 tion. "f Not a few of the Taunton Dissenters were 
 carried off" from the praying assemblies to prison, 
 but how many, or for how long a time, is not 
 known. The only notice of their imprisonment is 
 this incidental reference to it in a sermon delivered 
 several months later, when they were again at 
 liberty : — 
 
 " Brethren, It is your privilege that God gave 
 you hearts to own Him in times of danger, and 
 blessed be God He was not behind hand with you 
 in that He owned you in your prison state. Doth 
 not God speak to you as the apostle, * Which of you 
 goeth a warfare at his own charges ? ' When 
 
 * Diary, August 7, 1664. 
 
 •f- In the Libraiy of Devonshire House there is one preserved with 
 this title : — " A Trumpet Sounded in the Eares of Persecution, with 
 the lowing of oxen, the bleating of sheep, neighing of horses, 
 rattling of pots, kettles, skillets, dishes and pans, taken from an Inno- 
 cent People," &c. 
 
300 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 our Saviour sent forth His disciples without scrip 
 or shoes, says He, 'Lacked ye anything ?' and they 
 answered, 'Nothing.' May you not say so? If He 
 say, ' Lacked ye anything ? ' we must reply, ' No, 
 He poured out His kindness upon us.' God did 
 send bread, and not by a raven, but by friends. 
 Whoever wants, God will be sure that His prisoners 
 shall not want. The king took care of Jeremiah, 
 ' Then Zedekiah the king commanded, that they 
 should commit Jeremiah to the court of the prison, 
 and that they should give him daily a piece of 
 bread out of the bakers' street until all the bread 
 in the city was spent.' — Jer. xxxvii. 21. When 
 Jeremiah was in prison, God would be sure that 
 he should not want as long as there was any bread 
 to be had in the city. So God commands con- 
 cerning His prisoners."* 
 
 Try to pi6ture the effed; on any modern congre- 
 gation of such penalties as these, softened as they 
 were by the ministries of Christian pity. " To 
 some Christians," says John Foster, " there is 
 something formidable even in a certain quantity of 
 rain-drops — they have a reverential awe of the 
 weather." If such agencies serve to thin our 
 churches, how many worshippers would be there, if 
 they anticipated as the probable consequence, the 
 payment of a fine, suffering in a prison, or the 
 
 * Alleine's Remains. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 301 
 
 chance of slavery and death beneath the blaze of a 
 tropical day ? 
 
 Even Mr. Allelne's brave people were so far dis- 
 persed by these terrors, that he deemed it sufficient 
 to hold henceforth two Sunday services instead of 
 four ; still continuing, however, his various other 
 labours in the week, both at home and in the villages. 
 
 His own languid health yet more imperatively 
 required him thus to lessen his usual amount of 
 work. The prison had made him an old and weary 
 man. It had made his life wither as a flower will 
 wither if the fire has once passed over it. His 
 iron power of endurance, his elastic spring of 
 recovery had gone for ever. He could hardly 
 hold on his way, and at last he broke down utterly. 
 At the close of August, having travelled sixteen 
 miles to visit a church which had been deprived of 
 its pastor, he sank into such utter exhaustion after 
 preaching, that he could not be removed for three 
 or four days, and then was with great difficulty 
 borne back to Taunton. For many weeks his 
 strength consumed away so fast, that his friends 
 thought he would soon die. In Odober he began 
 to revive, but even then his disorder so affected 
 him, that he could not use his arms so as to write 
 letters, or put off and on his clothes. 
 
 About the beginning of his illness he received a 
 letter from a clergyman to thank him for the reli- 
 gious good gained in former years from his preach- 
 
302 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 ing. In January, he was able to didtate a reply, 
 some sentences of which shall be given here : — 
 
 TO A CLERGYMAN WITH TWO PARSONAGES. 
 
 '' Let us know no interest but Jesus Christ's. I 
 cannot say that I have already attained this, but my heart 
 is bent on making the endeavour. Too often I take a 
 wrong aim, and miss my mark, but I will tell you the 
 rules I stri6lly impose upon myself from day to day : 
 Never to lie down, but in the name of God ; not barely 
 for natural refreshment, but that a wearied servant of 
 Christ may be recruited and fitted to serve Him better 
 the next day. Never to rise up but with this resolution, 
 well, I will go forth this day in the name of God, and 
 will make religion my business, and spend the day for 
 eternity. Never to enter upon my calling, but first 
 thinking, I will do these things as unto God, because He 
 requireth these things at my hands in the place and station 
 He hath put me into. Never to sit down to the table, 
 but resolving, I will not eat merely to please my appetite, 
 but to strengthen myself for my Master's work. Never 
 to make a visit, but upon some holy design, resolving to 
 leave something of God where I go ; and in every com- 
 pany to leave some good savour behind. This is that 
 which I have been for some time learning, and am press- 
 ing hard after ; and if I strive not to walk by these rules, 
 let this paper be a witness against me. 
 
 " I am not now in my former publick capacity, such 
 things being required of me to say and subscribe as I 
 could by no means yield to, without open lying and dis- 
 sembling with God and men j yet, that I am unuseful, I 
 cannot say ; but rather think, that possibly I may be of 
 more ure than heretofore. I thank the Lord I have not 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. JOJ 
 
 known what it is to want a tongue to speak, but in my 
 sickness ; nor a people to hear ; but so as that we both 
 follow the things that make for peace. 
 
 " I perceive you are otherwise perswaded in some 
 things than I am ; but, however, I trust we meet in our 
 end. Since you are in, may it be your whole study to 
 gain souls, and to build them up in holiness, which is 
 with too many the least of their cares. One duty 
 (miserably negle6led) I shall be bold to commend to you 
 from my own experience, and that is, the visiting your 
 whole flock from house to house, and enquiring into their 
 spiritual estates particularly, and dealing plainly and truly 
 with them about their conversion to God ; to the useful- 
 ness of this great work I can set my prohatum est. 
 
 *' I hear you have two parsonages ; O tremble to think 
 how many precious souls you have to look to ! and let it 
 be seen, however others aim at the fleece, you aim at the 
 flock ; and that you have indeed curam animarum." 
 
 The following letter appears to have been 
 written about the same period : — 
 
 TO A DISSENTING MINISTER IN GAOL. 
 
 "Worthy Sir, — It was but a little after my release from 
 my own confinement, that I heard of yours ; and now write 
 to you, as one that hath taken a higher degree than ever, and 
 more truly honourable, being commenced prisoner of Christ. 
 I was once affecSled with the pi6lure of a devout man, to 
 whom a voice came down from heaven, saying, ^uid vis 
 fieri pro te. To which he answered, Nihil domine nisi 
 pati ac contemni pro te. Undoubtedly, Sir, it is our real 
 glory to be throughout conformed to Jesus Christ, not 
 only in His sanftity, but in His sufferings. Paul counted 
 all things but dung for this, that he might win Christ, &c., 
 
304 
 
 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 and know the fellowship of His sufferings, and be made 
 conformable to His death. I doubt not but your conso- 
 lations in Christ do much more than superabound in all 
 your tribulations for him. Yet, let me add this one 
 cordial, that now you have a whole shoal of promises 
 come in to you, which you had not before ; I mean, all 
 the promises to suffering saints, in which they have not 
 an immediate, but only a remoter right, unless in a 
 suffering state. And doubtless he hath gotten well that 
 hath gotten such a number of exceeding great and 
 precious promises. If the men of the world do so 
 rejoyce when such or such an estate is fallen to them, 
 should not you much more, that have such a treasure of 
 promises fallen to you ? 
 
 " I can tell you little good of myself; but this I can 
 tell you, that the promises of God were never so sweet in 
 this world to me, as in and since my imprisoned state. 
 Oh, the bottomless riches of the covenant of grace ! It 
 shames me that I have let such a treasure lie by so long, 
 and have made so httle use of it. Never did my soul 
 know the heaven of a believer's life, till I learnt to live a 
 life of praise, and by more frequent consideration to set 
 home the unspeakable riches of the divine promises, to 
 which, I trust, through grace, I am made an heir. I 
 verily perceive that all our work were done at once, if we 
 could but prevail with ourselves and others to live like 
 believers ; to tell all the world, by our course and 
 carriage, that there is such pleasantness in Christ's wars, 
 such beauty in holiness, such reward to obedience, as we 
 profess to believe. May ours and our people's conversa- 
 tions but preach this aloud to the world, that there is a 
 reality in what God hath promised ; that heaven is worth 
 the venturing for ; that the sufferings of the present time 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 305 
 
 are not worthy to be compared with the glory which 
 shall be revealed in us I 
 
 " Verily, Sir, it is but a very little while that prisons 
 shall hold us, or that we shall dwell in dirty flesh. 
 Porphyry tells us of Plotinus, that he was ashamed to see 
 himself in the body ; to see a divine and immortal soul in 
 a prison of flesh (for so they^ held the body to be) ; but 
 the worst shackles are those of sin. Well, they must 
 shortly ofF all together ; our Lord doth not long intend us 
 for this lower region. Surely He is gone to prepare a 
 place for us. Doubtless it is so ; yea, and He will come 
 again, and receive us to Himself, that where He is, we 
 may be also. And what have we to do, but to believe, 
 and wait, and love, and long, and look out for His 
 coming, in which is all our hope ? 'Twill be time enough 
 for us to be preferred then. We know beforehand who 
 shall then be uppermost. Our Lord hath shewed us 
 where our place shall be, even at His own right hand ; 
 and what He will say to us, ' Come, ye blessed,' &c. 
 Surely we shall stand in His judgement. He hath 
 promised to stand our Friend. Let us look for the joyful 
 day. As sure as there is a God, this day will come, and 
 then it shall go well with us. What if bonds and banish- 
 ments abide us for a season ? This is nothing but what 
 our Lord hath told us, * The world shall rejoice, but ye 
 shall weep and lament ; you shall be sorrowful, but your 
 sorrow shall be turned into joy.' Oh, how reviving are 
 His words ! * I will see you again, and your heart shall 
 rejoice, and your joy no man taketh away from you.' 
 
 " If that miserable wretch leapt chearfully oiF the 
 ladder, saying, ' I shall be a queen in hell,' with what joy 
 should we do and sufi-er for God, who have His truth in 
 pawn that we shall be crowned in heaven ? Verily, 
 
 X 
 
306 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 they are wonderful preparations that are making for us. 
 The Lord prepare us apace, and make us meet to be par- 
 takers. It was the highest commendation that ever that 
 worthy R. Baxter received, which fell from the pen of 
 his scoffing adversary, Tilenus, who saith of him, Totum 
 Puritanismum totus spirat. Oh, that this may be true of 
 us and ours ! 
 
 "... — But what shall I say ? I have more 
 need to receive from you, than ability to give ; only I will 
 tell you my wishes for you : I wish that your body may 
 prosper, as your soul also prospereth. I wish, that you 
 may see the travel of your soul ; that you may find your 
 people thriving under your hands in all manner of holy 
 conversation and godliness, that whosoever converses 
 with them, may see and hear by them, that God is in 
 them of a truth. I wish your enlargement from your 
 bonds, and your enlargement in them ; that your prison 
 may be but the lanthorn through which your graces, 
 experiences, communion, and prison attainments may 
 shine most brightly to all beholders. I wish your prison 
 may be a Paradise of peace, and a Patmos of divine dis- 
 coveries. Lord Jesus, set to this thy Amen. 
 
 " I am. Sir, 
 " Your unworthy brother and companion 
 
 In the kingdom and patience of Jesus, 
 '■^ Jan. 10, 1664." "Jos. Alleine." 
 
 About April he was able to leave his chamber 
 again, and from that time he persisted in preaching 
 once and sometimes twice every Sunday, as well as 
 in visiting and teaching on other days. It was 
 impossible to go on thus ; and in the summer of 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 307 
 
 1665, yielding to the advice of his friends, he 
 agreed for health's sake to spend a season of rest 
 in the country. 
 
 Reddening its fringe of grass, and the trailing 
 strings of tangled creepers through which it glistens, 
 there is at the village of Seend, near Devizes, a 
 chalybeate spring, now scarcely noticed, but then 
 just beginning to have a brief celebrity. In the 
 year after, some of its waters were taken in phials 
 by Aubrey to a meeting of the Royal Society, 
 and the sages there were " wonderfully surprised" 
 at the experimental efFe6l produced by the oxida- 
 tion of the iron it contained. An advertisement of 
 its virtues appeared in Mr. Lilly's Almanac. The 
 village became fashionable, and was much fre- 
 quented by persons who came to be cured of "the 
 spleen." Mr. Alleine went to this Wiltshire 
 Bethesda, and stayed for several weeks. In that 
 summer there was little chance of refreshment for 
 an invalid anywhere, for never had such a sultry 
 season been known. The cattle died, the hedge- 
 leaves were shrivelled, some of the pasture lands 
 were burnt white like the highways, and meadows 
 which usually yielded forty loads of hay, now 
 yielded only four. Though all nature languished 
 around him, the strength of our friend was renewed 
 by his visit, and he went back to Taunton rejoicing 
 in hope. 
 
 On his return, he resolved to start on a mis- 
 X 2 
 
308 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 sionary tour through Wales. The idea of Wales 
 as a mission-field was not new to him or to his 
 flock. By the establishment of schools, the em- 
 ployment of lay and itinerant agency, and the 
 appointment of working ministers in the place of 
 those who were deprived for drunkenness, or 
 scandalous lives in other respedts, the Puritans, 
 with the questionable aid of the Long Parliament, 
 had done much to disperse the heathen darkness 
 that had so long shadowed the principality. This 
 may be said with confidence, although, at the same 
 time, it can scarcely be doubted that hard measure 
 was sometimes dealt to the Royalist clergy there, 
 and that a few excellent men suffered ejedlion with 
 their numerous less honourable brethren.* From 
 the time of Mr. Alleine's ordination, he had joined 
 in the endeavours to evangelise his Welsh neigh- 
 bours. By correspondence with Lord Wharton, 
 by appeals to his own responsive people, and by 
 co-operation with Vavasor Powell, through whose 
 single itinerancy twenty thousand persons were 
 gathered into Christian congregations f — by these 
 and other means, he had sent help over to those 
 whom he called " men of Macedonia." The effecfts 
 of such services were now rapidly withering before 
 
 * Gemitus Ecclesias Cambro-Biittannicae, 4to., 1654. 
 \ Thurloe, Vavasor Powell was a Baptist. He was eleven years 
 in prison ior nonconformity, and ciied in the Fleet Prison, 1670. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 309 
 
 the A6t of Uniformity. What could be done? 
 He busied his mind with many projects. By his 
 influence, several ministers were sent over, and he 
 was just setting out himself, when the return of his 
 maladies convinced him of his inability to travel, 
 and, entreated by his friends, he mournfully gave 
 up the design.* 
 
 In his accustomed rounds, then, this servant of 
 the Lord still determined to toil on — his strength 
 strained to the utmost, and his life beset with 
 perils ; but though many threats were uttered against 
 him by the magistrates, and many warrants out for 
 him, nothing ruffled his placid courage, or shook 
 his firm resolve. He would say, when his enemies 
 were plotting to get him into prison, " They could 
 not do me a greater kindness. I can do but little 
 because of my distempers ; but if I cannot work for 
 God, I can suffer for Him, if He would so far 
 honour me." But the time was not yet come for 
 this, and, till then, he seemed to lead " a charmed 
 life." 
 
 All this while the Plague was raging in London. 
 The old Gothic city, with its foul nests of narrow 
 streets, each having in its centre a black rivulet 
 trickling along to the river, seemed marked for 
 such a doom. The avenger had often sent warning 
 of his approach, and now he had come, walking in 
 
 * Richard Alleine. 
 
3 lO FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 darkness, wasting at noonday, and filling the whole 
 scene with horrors which the tongue trembles to 
 utter, and the pen refuses to record. In the month 
 of September, the terrific number of ten thousand 
 at least, was the weekly average of the bills of mor- 
 tality. In one night — a night long to be remem- 
 bered — it is said that four thousand died. Shop 
 after shop was closed, door after door was inscribed 
 with a long red cross, having over it the words, 
 " The Lord have mercy upon us," and street after 
 street became still, with the awful peace of death — 
 the doors left open, the casements clapping in the 
 wind, the rooms empty, the inmates gone. In 
 many parts, 
 
 " The town lay solitary, 
 As doth a quite forsaken monastery 
 In some lone forest, and we could not pass 
 To many places but through weeds and grass."* 
 
 The pestilence travelled on until nearly a hun- 
 dred thousand souls had been swept away before it. 
 Material terrors were often heightened by the work- 
 ings of an insane imagination. In the heavens 
 men saw, or thought they saw, blazing stars and 
 flaming swords ; and on the earth, spe6lres were 
 descried scintillating in the twilight. Fanatics, 
 
 * G. Wither on the Plague in 1627. London's Remembrancer, 
 4.to., 1665 ; a Colleilion of all the Bills of Mortality for this present 
 year, &c. By the Company of Parish Clerks, 1665. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 311 
 
 thinking themselves inspired, went everywhere 
 shouting messages of wrath. One hollow voice 
 made the streets echo with the cry, " Yet forty 
 days, and London shall be destroyed !" Another 
 moaned, night and day, *' O the great and dreadful 
 God! O the great and dreadful God!" Sur- 
 vivors thronged to the churches, but with a few 
 honourable exceptions the clergy had fled. Hand- 
 bills were thrown about the streets, bearing the title, 
 " A Pulpit to Let," on which were printed the fol- 
 lowing lines : — 
 
 " They that sliould stay, and teach us to reform. 
 Gird up their loins, and run to 'scape the storm ; 
 They dread the plague, and dare not stand its shock, 
 Let wolves or lions feed the fainting flock. 
 Think you these men believe with holy Paul, 
 For them to be dissolved is best of all 5 
 Then, their own bodies they would never mind, 
 More than the souls of those they left behind. 
 Who now, those sons of Aaron being fled, 
 Shall stand between the living and the dead ? 
 We have at home the plague, abroad the sword, 
 And will they add the famine of the word ?" 
 
 An eye-witness declares, that seeing these pamph- 
 lets of "A Pulpit to Let" scattered over the 
 thoroughfares, and finding the churches open, 
 many of the Nonconformist ministers ventured 
 to accept the challenge, and fill the pulpits,* — 
 
 * Vincent's " God's Terrible Voice in the City." The lines 
 quoted above, occur in " A Pulpit to Let," single sheet, 1665. 
 
312 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 secure in a toleration decried by law, but allowed by 
 the exigencies of the hour. Among these were 
 William Dyer, author of the book on " Christ's 
 Famous Titles," John Janeway, Dr. John Owen, 
 John Knowles, formerly of Bristol Cathedral, 
 Thomas Vincent, Chester, Turner, Franklin, and 
 Grimes. What these men did, and what they 
 dared so heroically, would furnish materials for 
 many stirring chapters, and made at the time a 
 deep impression on the hearts of the English 
 people. 
 
 We naturally ask what their old foes were doing 
 through all this dreary season } Most of them 
 were too absorbed in their own affairs to care 
 for those of others. Some were engaged, as 
 usual, in trijfies. We find fussy Mr. Pepys, the 
 type of this class, able, amidst all his fright, to 
 take affedionate and critical notices of periwigs, 
 thus pensively contemplating their fate — " People 
 will henceforth buy no hair, lest it had been cut 
 from the heads of people who had died of the pes- 
 tilence." * Some were absorbed in vice — the Plague 
 only rousing them, as it did the men of old Athens, 
 to a wilder fanaticism of license.f Others, and 
 
 Guildhall Library. I think it must be the pamphlet to which Vin- 
 cent alludes. Various poems and ballads were printed on the same 
 subjeft, such as " The Runawaye's Return ;" " The Shepherd's 
 Lacker Lacked," &c. 
 K^^ * Diary, 1665. f Thucydldes, ii. 54. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 3 1 3 
 
 this is our present point, were absorbed in plans of 
 new persecution ; the self-devoting labour of the 
 Nonconformists, instead of making them relent, 
 only seeming to lash up emotions of more pitiless 
 vengeance. Sheldon, now archbishop of Canter- 
 bury, Seth Ward, bishop of Salisbury, and Lord 
 Clarendon, employed the leisure of their safe retreat 
 at^Oxford in forging the infamous Five-Mile Ad:, 
 which received the royal assent on O6lober 31, 
 1665. This A(5t set forth a certain oath, which 
 every Nonconformist minister was to take, declaring 
 his convi6tion that it was unlawful, under any pre- 
 tence whatever, to take up arms against the sove- 
 reign, and promising not to attempt any alteration 
 of the Government, either in Church or State. 
 It also provided, that those who refused to take 
 such an oath, should not come within five miles 
 of any corporate city or town, or within five miles 
 of any place in which they had heretofore been 
 settled, or in which they had preached, under enor- 
 mous penalties. 
 
 About thirty, or a few more, consented to take 
 this oath, Mr. Newton with the rest ; but it was 
 obviously impossible to be taken by the great body 
 of Nonconformists. The nation does not exist for 
 the king, but the king for the nation. Among 
 free men, an oath of allegiance to their ruler means 
 no more than that they will be faithful to him while 
 he is faithful to them. When he no longer regards 
 
314 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 the obje6l for which he reigns, loyalty is no longer 
 a virtue. The Dissenters were loyal, but the 
 jus divinum of kingship, and the political nothing- 
 ness of citizenship — the dodrine that kings can 
 claim to hold all mankind as property in per- 
 petuity, and that subje6ls have nothing to do 
 with Government but to be governed — these were 
 not among the articles of their Puritan creed, neither 
 could they help desiring, by all legal means, to obtain 
 some change in the arbitrary laws. The ministers 
 therefore refused the oath, as was anticipated, and 
 were a second time driven from their homes. While 
 they kept in their old haunts, the most persecuted 
 could preach occasionally ; however poor they 
 were, however scorned by the world, they could 
 always be comforted by the presence of a few who 
 held them in unspeakable reverence, — who were 
 ready to give away their last crust to keep them 
 from starvation, — and who, in the most evil day, 
 would have found for them the safest nooks of 
 concealment, or have risked life itself to cover 
 their escape from the troopers. But from this 
 time, their lot was to be cast among strangers, and 
 their final possibility of preaching the Gospel 
 seemed to be taken away. 
 
 The only excuse for this a6l of exquisite wicked- 
 ness is, that the ends contemplated by the Acft of 
 Uniformity could not, at that early stage of its a6lion, 
 have been secured without it. One of its first objects 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 3 I 5 
 
 was to make it impossible for any but Conformists 
 to be recognised as ministers in England. But 
 this was defeated by the persistent ministry of those 
 who, being no longer Conformists, were, according 
 to the law, no longer ministers. More than this, 
 they had adually ventured into the empty pulpits 
 of certain churches in London. There were many 
 empty pulpits, — "bells lacking clappers," as Latimer 
 would have said, in the country ; and as these resolute 
 men had once defied the law, who could tell where 
 the mischief might end ? Preach they would — 
 certainly in their conventicles, and possibly in un- 
 occupied churches ; this, indeed, they often adlually 
 did.* Preach they would, while they could have 
 congregations, and the only way to prevent their 
 preaching was to drive them from their people. 
 The rulers were right, if they were right in passing 
 the Ad; of Uniformity. Law must not remain a 
 dead letter on the statute-book. If it be right to 
 make a law, it is right to enforce it. Laws for the 
 soul, like laws for the body, must be enforced by 
 penalty, and the penalty must, if possible, answer 
 its end. 
 
 The first Nonconformists have often been repre- 
 sented as a gloomy generation. " But," asks one 
 of their advocates, " is it fair to ruin us, and then 
 reproach us for not being merry .? They that 
 
 * O. Hey wood. 
 
3 I 6 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 wasted us required of us mirth but how 
 
 shall we sing the Lord's songs in a strange land, 
 and what other songs can we sing ? Shall we set 
 the Five- Mile A£t to music, and make merry with our 
 sorrows ?" " I wonder how any one can laugh," 
 exclaimed a poor woman to Alleine, " when God's 
 church is in such distress."* Some degree of 
 gloom was natural, and it hung heavily over the 
 spirits of many — not, however, as it seems, over the 
 spirits of Mr. Alleine. You are eager to know 
 how the new Aft affefted his proceedings. He 
 resolved to take up his abode at Wellington, a 
 town more than five miles away ; but, a few nights 
 before doing so, he obtained the largest room that 
 could be found, probably one at Fullands, — called 
 his people together, and held a service of solemn 
 thanksgiving ! The rough notes of his address on 
 this occasion have been preserved, and we must 
 spare space for a few sentences here : — 
 
 " Most dearly beloved brethren, with no little 
 joy and thankfulness have I thought of this time, 
 when I should once more see your faces together ; 
 and be so truly glad, with so heart-contenting a 
 mercy, as to * rejoice with the joy of Qod's people, 
 and to glory with His inheritance.' 
 
 " It is a time that, to some, may seem unseason- 
 able to set up thanksgivings, when our calamities 
 
 * Alleine's Remains, p. 32. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 317 
 
 are so near approaching. But surely, if I had 
 never hopes to enjoy one day with you more, the 
 last day should be a day of praise. And if I were 
 sure that we were now to take our farewell of 
 Christians and ministers, and of all our former 
 liberties, I should exhort you that we might join 
 once more in lifting up hearts and hands in blessing 
 God for all the mercies that we have met with 
 together. Your condition is never such but your 
 mercies are infinitely greater, and more than your 
 afflidlions. Neither may the sense of misery at 
 any time surprise you, so as to drown the thankful 
 acknowledgment of God's mercies. God, that hath 
 been always good to you, hath never been better 
 than since you have had affliction. Elijah was 
 never so happily fed at a full table as when it was 
 a time of great famine ; when God sent every bit 
 of bread and flesh by the mouth of a raven. O 
 how sweetly, do you think, that every bit of this 
 bread did relish with the man of God, when he saw 
 that he received it immediately out of God's own 
 hand ? 
 
 " Brethren, though it hath been a time of great 
 calamity, yet God hath herein heightened His 
 mercy to you ; — you have seen the bush burn- 
 ing, and yet not consumed. The portion of God's 
 children hath been taken away, and yet our cheeks 
 have been fat. We have been cast with Daniel 
 into the lion's den ; but God hath sent His 
 
3 I 8 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 angel and shut the lion's mouth, and we have not 
 been destroyed, but are here together to praise the 
 Lord. 
 
 " Methinks there are several periods of time, 
 since the time of our calamities, wherein God hath 
 appeared to us, when we thought all had been gone. 
 One period was when your ministers were shut out 
 of public by the Aft of Uniformity. Another, 
 when we were cast out of our private meetings by 
 the A(5l made against seditious conventicles, so 
 called by the iniquity of the times. Another, by 
 this A6t that doth now cast ministers out of their 
 habitations. And, methinks, every period should 
 end with praise. We read, that when they removed 
 the ark, that when they had passed such a number 
 of paces, then they ' slew a sacrifice.' So, methinks, 
 as we pass these periods of time, at the end of 
 every period we should offer praise. What ! though 
 God hath separated your preachers from you, yet, 
 as He said, if the soldier dies fighting, and the 
 preacher preaching, and the swan singing, then the 
 saints should part praising. Oh, Christians, this is 
 the spirit that should be in you, that whatever God 
 doth with you for the time to come, you should 
 resolve to end in His praise for the mercies past. 
 If it were the last day we should have together, 
 surely, methinks, we should end in praise. 
 
 " The mercies of God are a deep that cannot be 
 fathomed. Where shall I begin or end .^ Let me 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 3^9 
 
 this evening show a little of God's mercy to you, 
 and let my message live in your hearts as long as 
 you live." 
 
 He first aims to show the mercies enjoyed by 
 his people as the people of God. He shows how 
 they may prove the existence of this relation, and 
 then, that this relation involves the following things, 
 on each of which he enlarges : — " You are the elec- 
 tion of grace — you are the first-born of God — you 
 are the first-fruits of the creation — you are the 
 burgesses of heaven — you are the members of 
 Christ — you are the living stones of the temple." 
 
 He next asks the people to call to mind the par- 
 ticular mercies they have enjoyed as the inhabitants 
 of Taunton ;■ — 
 
 " Though praise for the higher mercies should 
 ever ring loudest, these should not be forgotten. 
 
 " Firstly. He has been a Saviour to you. He 
 hath saved your lives from the sword. Have you 
 forgotten that you were a people devoted to 
 destruction by the sons of violence ? But God 
 disappointed them, and gave your lives for a prey. 
 
 " Tour dwellings from the flames. — The flames 
 have been set in ambush against you, and yet your 
 habitations have not been burnt down to this day. 
 
 " Tour lives from the plague. — It hath devoured 
 others, but it hath not devoured you. How emi- 
 nently hath God preserved you in this place, in the 
 time of common calamity that hath been among 
 
320 
 
 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 Others ! O think not that it was because those 
 were greater sinners than are in Taunton ; no, but 
 because God hath a peculiar intention of saving 
 you. Yet I say to you, as Christ to them, ^ Think 
 not that those upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, 
 were greater sinners than any in Jerusalem. I tell 
 you, nay ; but except ye repent, ye shall all like- 
 wise perish.' We have had the same sins, and yet 
 God hath preserved us. 
 
 ^' Tour persons from the prison. — How often hath 
 God preserved you ? He hath been like the cloud 
 upon Israel ; * and upon all the glory there hath 
 been a defence.' Once, indeed, some of you have 
 tasted of a prison ; but what a mercy was it, that 
 it was but once. 
 
 " Secondly. God hath been a Shepherd to you. 
 — Therefore, you have not wanted. Who is it 
 that leads you by the still waters ? Whence is it 
 that you lie down in green pastures ? It is because 
 God is your Shepherd. How hath God provided 
 for you formerly and of late ? 
 
 " Thirdly. God hath been a keeper to you. 
 When you were sent to prison God did keep you. 
 O do not forget the mercies of a prison ! I believe, 
 that of all the passages of our lives, many of us have 
 no such experience of God's mercy as in a prison. 
 O the provision that God did make for us there ! 
 
 " Brethren, now let us thankfully commemorate 
 all these mercies. Let me call upon you, as the 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 321 
 
 Psalmist, ' Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous ;' and 
 again, ^ Rejoice, O ye people, let your voice be 
 heard on high.' * Let us worship and fall down 
 before the Lord our Maker.' Let it be said, 
 
 * Praise waiteth for thee, O God, in Taunton.' 
 Well might praise wait for God in Taunton, for 
 God hath waited to be gracious to us. There was 
 the place where He chose to put His name. 
 
 * There brake He the arrows and the spear.' Who 
 is like our God, who rideth on the heaven for our 
 help, and on the sky for our aid ? Blessed is the 
 people that heareth the joyful sound ; they shall 
 rejoice in thee, O Lord. ^ The Lord is our 
 deliverance, and the Holy One of Israel is our 
 King.' Shout, therefore, O inhabitants of Taunton, 
 for great is the work of the Lord with you. And 
 now, O Lord, bless them, and accept the work of 
 their hands, and lift them up for ever !" 
 
 At Wellington, he preached in a dye-house. 
 Attempts lately made to identify the place by the 
 help of tradition have all failed. It was a very 
 obscure shelter ; but good men, like diamonds, 
 shine in the dark, and light will not remain a secret 
 long. Mr. Alleine was soon discovered by in- 
 formers, and a warrant placed in the constable's 
 hand for his apprehension. Even had he been 
 silent he would not have been safe, for it was 
 thought that the house in which he lodged was not 
 
 Y 
 
322 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 quite five miles from Taunton.* This was a 
 question about which conscientious magistrates, and 
 those for whom they a6ted, desired to be mathe- 
 matically exaft. According to a statute of Queen 
 Elizabeth, a mile measured just 1760 yards, and 
 therefore it was now illegal for an ejefted minister 
 to dwell within a distance of just five times that 
 measurement of road from the utmost bend in the 
 boundary of his former parish. In a doubtful 
 case, a clergyman has been known to have the 
 ground measured in the night, so as to compel his 
 Nonconformist predecessor to move a few yards 
 further ofi\f Philip Henry was charged with living 
 within the prescribed limit of distance from his old 
 church. It was a frivolous and vexatious charge ; 
 to still the cavillers, however, he took the chain 
 into his own hand, and measured the distance, 
 taking care, before doing so, to be justified by 
 
 * The two towns are nearly seven miles apart 5 but the parish of 
 Hill Bishops joins that of Taunton, and lies between it and Wel- 
 lington. Mr. Newton was minister of both parishes, the duties of 
 the former being chiefly performed by a chaplain, Mr. N. Charlton. 
 Having been Mr. Newton's assistant, Mr. Alleine's ministry was 
 regarded as having had the same parochial extent ; and the Informer 
 probably contended that from the limit of Hill Bishops the outer- 
 most parish, to the house at which he lodged on this side Wellington, 
 there was not quite five miles space. 
 
 -j- This Nonconformist was the learned Benjamin Woodbury, 
 who had just refused a canonry of Windsor, oifcred on condition 
 of his conformity. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 323 
 
 a Scripture text, which he found in Deuteronomy 
 xxi. 2.* 
 
 Mr. Alleine made no attempt to argue the case; 
 but, as the person in whose house he had found 
 shelter was threatened with imprisonment in conse- 
 quence, he immediately went back to Taunton, 
 saying, " Blessed be the Lord, I shall now give up 
 two lives for Christ ; the one in doing for Him, 
 the other in suffering for Him. I am worn out in 
 doing for Him ; and now I can do no more, shall 
 I suffer no more for His sake ?"t In the face of 
 many dangers, both to host and guest, he found in 
 his own parish many houses open to him ; and he 
 went from one to the other, adopting the language 
 of holy Mr. Dodd, " I have a hundred houses for 
 one I part with." 
 
 Though a sick man, and greatly needing rest, 
 we are told that he gladly lived this life of changes, 
 because " he knew not how soon he might be carried 
 again from his people to prison ; and, by living 
 with them successively, he had opportunity of 
 being intimately acquainted with them, and the 
 state of their souls ; how it fared with their children 
 and servants ; and how they performed their duties 
 to each other in their families." These were only 
 visits ; and his real home all the time was Fullands, 
 
 * Philip Henry's Life, p. 108. 
 •j- Notes by Mr. F., in whose house he lodged. 
 Y 2 
 
3^4 
 
 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 the house of Mr. John Mallack, a merchant who 
 Uved about a mile from the town.* " Here," Mrs. 
 AUeine says, " he was exceedingly taken with 
 God's mercy to him, in Mr. Mallack's entertaining 
 him and me so bountifully, the house and gardens 
 and walks being a great delight to him, being so 
 pleasant and curious, and all accommodation within 
 so suitable, that he would often say that he did as 
 Dives, fare deliciously every day." 
 
 About this time, three probationers were ordained 
 in Somersetshire to the Christian ministry, and 
 there is reason to believe that Mr. Mallack's house 
 was the scene of the event. Theses were read, 
 examination was gone through on difficult points 
 of divinity, Mr. Alleine offered the ordination 
 prayer, and then Mr. Ames Short, Mr. Thomas 
 Lye, Mr. William Ball, Mr. Robert Atkins, and 
 Mr. John Kerridge, together set the young men 
 apart to the work of Christ " by the laying on of 
 hands. "f " We never heard of these preachers 
 before, — well-meaning men, perhaps, though of 
 course sad annoyances to the authorised and learned 
 clergy, — pity that they left their original vocation 
 of the plough, the loom, or the last." So says the 
 believer in Clarendon or Walker. But the simple 
 
 * It appears from a tablet in the church that " John Mallack, of 
 FuUancIs, gentleman, departed this life November 23, 1678." Ful- 
 lands-house is now occupied as a school. 
 
 -f- Life of Trosse, by J. H. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 325 
 
 man has been imposed upon. All were gentlemen ; 
 all were scholars of distindlion at one or other of the 
 universities ; although all were now wandering, 
 poor, and homeless. Great indeed had been their 
 reverses ; but all might have kept caste, and most 
 might have enjoyed preferment, if conscience had 
 allowed them to conform. Golden persuasives to 
 conformity had been offered and refused. One 
 of them, praised by the bishop of Chester as one 
 of the best preachers in the country, had refused 
 great offers, made particularly by the lord-lieutenant 
 of Ireland ; " but the offer of a mitre could not 
 move him to ad contrary to his sentiments."* 
 Another, who had been urged in vain to accept a 
 deanery, had, within a few days of this ordination 
 service, been pursued by dragoons, been searched 
 for in chimneys, chests, and boxes, and had at last 
 escaped safely to Taunton through the bravery of 
 his son, a little child, who refused to betray his 
 father's hiding-place, even when a pistol was held 
 to his breast by a constable, who furiously demanded 
 to know the secret. George Trosse, the only one 
 of the three candidates whose name is known, was 
 himself " a good clerke of Oxenford," and no mean 
 scholar. " He afterwards confessed to a friend 
 that he had read over all the books in his study, 
 besides about sixty folios which stood in his bed- 
 
 * Calamy on Atkins. 
 
326 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 chamber, and that he had read over the Bible, hi 
 EngHsh, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and French, a 
 hundred and a hundred times."* " Though fired 
 with holy zeal," writes his biographer, " he had 
 some hesitation about entering upon the sacred 
 office before ; but when the Oxford A61 drove 
 Dissenting ministers from cities, corporations, and 
 their own benefices, he consented, and was solemnly 
 set apart to the work."f Solemnly indeed ! solemnly 
 set apart to a ministry which could only be exer- 
 cised in partial safety at midnight meetings in the 
 woods ; solemnly set apart to scorn, penury, and 
 bonds, for the sake of Christ's holy Gospel ; 
 solemnly set apart to such a life by reverend men 
 who were themselves passing through its great 
 tribulation. We must search the legends of primi- 
 tive martyrs and fathers to find an ordination scene 
 of equal solemnity. It ill becomes the church 
 of the conventicle to treat with disresped the 
 solemnities peculiar to a church installed in cathe- 
 drals, enriched with the spoils of ancient Romanism, 
 and adorned with the spells of royalty, of chivalry, 
 and of historical prescription ; but it adts a still less- 
 becoming part when, with bustle and flaunting 
 show, it seeks to rival such attractions. From its 
 very nature it never can succeed, however it may 
 
 * Gilling's Life of Trosse, 171 5, p. 33. 
 f Gilling. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 327 
 
 Stoop to try. The effort is as needless as it is 
 useless, for it has its own poetry, its own grand 
 and moving stories, and its own powers of im- 
 pression, although they are not of this world, — 
 they are only of the kind shown in the lives of our 
 ancestors, and in the truths for which they lived 
 and died. 
 
 Still weak and sickly, it was deemed needful for 
 Mr. Alleine to take a second pilgrimage to Devizes 
 to drink the mineral waters. Before setting out, 
 he resolved to convene his friends, and set apart a 
 day of thanksgiving for all mercies to him and 
 them. Accordingly, on the loth of July, 1666, 
 there was a large assembly gathered at Fullands to 
 keep this festival of praise. He then preached from 
 the words of David, *' He hath not dealt so with 
 any nation. Praise ye the Lord." — Psalm clxvii. 20. 
 The following is a sketch of the discourse: — As 
 God deals with singular mercy to His people, they 
 owe Him singular praise. Review the historic 
 mercies of the nation. The Gospel is its brightest 
 mercy ; for as the earth without the sun, would be 
 the land without the sun of souls. Gospel light 
 was kindled in primitive times. After it had been 
 clouded over for a season by the Saxon invasion, 
 Austin came from Rome, and suddenly a light 
 shone through the ministry of other famous 
 preachers. When, after that, it was clouded again 
 by the power of Antichrist, others were raised, 
 
328 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 some to testify by living, some by dying for the 
 Word. Even the deaths of martyrs, our own kin- 
 dred, have proved to be amongst the mercies of the 
 church, for, according to the holy prophecy of 
 Latimer, " God hath lighted such a candle in Eng- 
 land that it never shall be put out." The scat- 
 tering of the Spanish Armada — the detedlion of the 
 gunpowder plot — and other deliverances from the 
 power of darkness, were all our mercies, though not 
 in our days, for God hath thus kept alive that light 
 which He once commanded into the nation. But 
 come nearer and look upon Taunton, the place of 
 our solemnities and desires, and you shall find that 
 He hath not dealt so with any other place. No 
 need, like David, to bemoan yourselves that you 
 dwell in the tents of Kedar. Threescore years 
 hath God waited on Taunton, and you have all 
 been born under the powerful preaching of the 
 Word, Even until now, your eyes behold your 
 teachers — He hath not dealt so with other places ; 
 there, excellent lights have been put out, and you 
 scarce find even the footsteps of religion. You 
 behold many maintaining the profession of the 
 Gospel, but many parishes there are whose pro- 
 fessors are so few that they are for signs and 
 wonders to be pointed at. You behold " how 
 good and pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell 
 together in unity." Bless the Lord that the hearts 
 of believers have all been made one in this place. 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 3^9 
 
 Bless the Lord, you His people, because the Lord 
 hath blessed you with peace ! 
 
 By far the larger part of the sermon relates to 
 the peculiar mercies belonging to God's peculiar 
 people. In the course of these appeals he says, 
 " He doth single you out before the world, to tell 
 the world what a God can do for a poor creature ; 
 to make you the monuments of His magnificence 
 and bounty ; to show how He could exalt the dust 
 of the earth. This is the use you serve for in the 
 world. Do not live as if you were made for little 
 things, and for little use ; you are made for this 
 use — that you should be vessels prepared to have 
 the infinite fulness of God pouring into you, as 
 vessels standing by for the same purpose, and run- 
 ning over to all eternity, when you shall be ever 
 full and running over with the glory of God — when 
 the all-sufficiency of God shall be for ever emptying 
 itself into you. How is it that God hears no more 
 of you ? Hath He done so for any other ?" 
 
 In the close he says, " What if in this world you 
 suffer more than others ? 
 
 " You are better fed than others ; for God 
 Almighty hath fed you by extraordinary provi- 
 dence. 
 
 " You are better taught than others. — Who is 
 hke to you, O people, about whose tents the manna 
 always raineth ? 
 
 " You have more promises than others. — Now 
 
330 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 there are come In to us a whole shoal of promises, 
 that we would not so properly claim before. 
 
 " God hath honoured you more than others. — 
 To others with you it is given to believe ; but to 
 you it is given to suffer for His sake ; which the 
 apostle reckons as a step higher than others can 
 attain. — (Phil. i. 29.) 
 
 " God hath intrusted you with His honour more 
 than others. He hath put more into your hands, 
 than into the hands of any other. God's glory is 
 trusted more with the sufferers of Christ than with 
 any others. O be infinitely tender of His honour ! 
 See that you love Him more than others ; praise 
 Him more than others." 
 
 While all were lost in thoughts like these, the 
 door was suddenly shattered open, and in burst 
 helter-skelter, with a crash of harsh laughter, a party 
 of men flourishing drawn swords. Two magistrates 
 hounded them on, and in a moment the scene was 
 one of clamour and fury. The door had not been 
 fastened, but the heroes adopted this method of 
 opening it, in preference to the usual one of lifting 
 the latch. In order to render the ceremony of their 
 entrance more impressive. With much abusive 
 language the names of all present were taken down, 
 and the constables charged to bring them next day 
 before the justices assembled at the Castle Tavern, 
 " there to be dealt with akordin to law." They 
 appeared at the time appointed, and after two days' 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 33 I 
 
 tedious attendance, were all " convi6led of a conven- 
 ticle," and sentenced to a fine of three pounds each, 
 or to be committed to prison threescore days. Of 
 the persons thus sentenced, few paid the fine, or 
 allowed others to do it for them. Mr. Alleine, 
 therefore, with his wife, his aged father, seven 
 ministers, and forty private persons, were com- 
 mitted to the prison at Ilchester. 
 
 A sufferer in the same cause was at that time 
 singing in a distant prison : — 
 
 " 'Tis not the baseness of this state 
 Doth hide us from God's face ; 
 He frequently, both soon and late, 
 Doth visit us with grace. 
 
 " Here come the angels, here come saints, 
 Here comes the Spirit of God, 
 To comfort us in our restraints 
 Under the wicked's rod." 
 
 This might have been the song of our impri- 
 soned congregation. Indeed it was in spirit the 
 song of their minister, for he is reported to have 
 said to his wife, " Well, though we have not our 
 attendants and servants as the great ones and the 
 rich of the world have, we have the blessed angels 
 of God still to wait on us, to minister to us, to 
 watch over us while YvC are sleeping ; ready to be 
 with us when journeying again, and still to preserve 
 us from the rage of men and devils." The prison 
 had but little gloom in it for him, and was allowed 
 to place no check upon his labours. He ministered 
 
332 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 sedulously to those members of his flock who were 
 there, and the rest he visited by letters, eight of 
 which have been printed. Two sermons were 
 preached nearly every day ; and he invariably took 
 his turn in preaching, as well as in other devotional 
 exercises. His last exhortation, delivered on the 
 morning of the day when he and those who were 
 committed with him were set free, has been thus 
 preserved in the short-hand notes of a listener: — 
 
 " Dearly beloved Brethren, — My time is little, and my 
 strength but small, yet I could not consent that you 
 should pass without receiving some parting counsel ; and 
 what I have to say at parting shall be chiefly to you that 
 are prisoners, and partly also to you our friends, that are 
 here met together. To you that are prisoners, I shall 
 speak something by way of exhortation, and something by 
 way of dehortation. 
 
 " By way of Exhortation. 
 
 " First. — Rejoyce with trembling in your prison comforts, 
 and see that you keep them in a thankful remembrance. 
 Who can tell the mercies that you have received here ? 
 My time nor strength will not suffice me to recapitulate 
 them. See that you rejoyce in God, but rejoyce with 
 trembling. Do not think the account will be little for 
 mercies so many and so great. Receive these choice 
 mercies with a trembling hand, for fear lest you should 
 be found guilty of misimproving such precious benefits, 
 and so wrath should be upon you from the Lord. Re- 
 member Hezekiah's case: great mercies did he receive ; 
 some praises did he return, but not according to the benefit 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 223 
 
 done unto him j therefore was wrath upon him from the 
 Lord, and upon all Judah for his sake, (2 Chron. xxxii. 
 25.) Therefore go away with a holy fear upon your 
 hearts, lest you should forget the loving-kindness of the 
 Lord, and should not render to Him according to what 
 you have received. 
 
 *' Oh, my brethren, stir up yourselves to render praise to 
 the Lord. You are the people that God hath formed for 
 His praise, and sent hither for His praise j and you should 
 now go home as so many trumpets to sound forth the 
 praises of God, when you come among your friends. 
 There is an expression (Psalm Ixviii. ii) ' The Lord 
 gave the word, great was the company of them that 
 published it.' So let it be said of the praises of God now, 
 great was the company of them that published them. 
 God hath sent a whole troop of you here together, let all 
 these go home and sound the praises of God wherever 
 you come ; and this is the way to make His praise 
 glorious indeed. Shall I tell you a story that I have 
 read ? — There was a certain king that had a pleasant 
 grove, and that he might make it every way delightful to 
 him, he caused some birds to be caught, and to be kept 
 up in cages, till they had learned sundry sweet and artificial 
 tunes ; and when they were perfect in their lessons, he 
 let them abroad out of their cages into his grove, that 
 while he was walking in this grove he might hear them 
 singing those pleasant tunes, and teaching them to other 
 birds that were of a wilder note. Brethren, this King is 
 God, this grove is His church, these birds are yourselves, 
 this cage is the prison ; God hath sent you hither, that 
 you should learn the sweet and pleasant notes of His 
 praise. And I trust that you have learned something all 
 this while, God forbid else. Now God opens the cage, 
 
334 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AQAIN. 
 
 and lets you forth into the grove of His church, that you 
 may sing forth His praises, and that others may learn of 
 you too. Forget not, therefore, the songs of the house 
 of your pilgrimage, do not return to your wild notes again ; 
 keep the mercies of God for ever in a thankful remem- 
 brance, and make mention of them humbly as long as you 
 live J then shall you answer the end for which He sent 
 you hither. I trust you will not forget this place. 
 When Queen Mary died, she said. That after her death 
 they should find Calais on her heart. I hope that men 
 shall find by you hereafter, that the prison is upon your 
 heart, Ilchester is upon your heart. 
 
 " Secondly. Feed and feast your faith upon prison-expe- 
 rience. Do not think that God hath done this only for 
 your present supply. Brethren, God hath provided for 
 you, not only for your present supply in prison, but to lay 
 up for all your lives that experience that your faith must 
 live upon, till faith be turned into vision. Learn depend- 
 ence upon God, and confidence in God, by all the expe- 
 riences that you have had here. * Because thou hast 
 been my help (saith the Psalmist), therefore under the 
 shadow of thy wing will I rejoice.' Are you at a loss at 
 any time ? then remember your bonds. We read in 
 Scripture of a time when there was no smith in all Israel, 
 and the Israelites were fain to carry their goads and other 
 instruments, to be sharpened, down to the Philistines. 
 So when your spirits are low, and when your faith is dull, 
 carry them to the prison to be sharpened and quickened. 
 Oh, how hath the Lord confuted all our fears ! cared for 
 all our necessities ! The faith of some of you was sorely 
 put to it for corporal necessities. You came hither, not 
 having any thing considerable to pay for your charges 
 here, but God took care for that. And you left poor 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 335 
 
 miserable families at home, and no doubt but many trouble- 
 some thoughts were in your minds, what your families 
 should do for bread, but God hath provided for them. 
 
 " We that are ministers, left poor starveling flocks, and 
 we thought that the countrey had been now stript, and yet 
 God hath provided for them. Thus hath the Lord been 
 pleased to furnish us with arguments for our faith, against 
 we come to the next distress. Though you should be 
 called forth to leave your flocks destitute, you that are my 
 brethren in the ministry, and others their families destitute, 
 yet doubt not but God will provide. Remember your 
 bonds upon all occasions. Whensoever you are in 
 distress, remember your old Friend, remember your tryed 
 Friend. 
 
 " Thirdly. Let divine mercy be as oyl to the flame of 
 your love : ' O love the Lord, all ye His saints.' Brethren, 
 this is the language of all God's dealings with you ; they 
 all call upon you to love the Lord your God with all your 
 hearts, with all your souls, with all your strength. What 
 hath God been doing ever since you came to this prison ? 
 All that He hath been doing since you came hither, hath 
 been to pour oyl into the flames of your love, thereby to 
 encrease and heighten them. God hath lost all these 
 mercies upon you, if you do not love Him better than 
 you did before. You have had supplies ; to what purpose 
 is it, unless you love God the more ? If they that be in 
 want, love Him better than you, it were better you had 
 been in their case. You have had health here, but if 
 they that be in sickness love God better than you, it were 
 better you had been in sickness too. See that you love 
 your Father, that hath been so tender of you. What 
 hath God been doing, but pouring out His love upon you? 
 How were we mistaken ? For my part, I thought that 
 
2^6 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 God took us upon His knee to whip us, but He took us 
 upon His knee to dandle us. We thought to have felt 
 the strokes of His anger, but He hath stroked us as a 
 father his children, with most dear afFeilion. Who can 
 utter His loving kindness! What! (my brethren) shall 
 we be worse than publicans ? The publicans will love those 
 that love them. Will not you return love for so much 
 love ? Far be this from you, brethren ; you must not 
 only exceed the publicans, but the Pharisees too; there- 
 fore, surely you must love Him that loveth you. This is 
 my business now to bespeak your love to God, to unite 
 your hearts to Him ; blessed be God for this occasion ; 
 for my part I am unworthy of it. Now, if I can get your 
 hearts nearer to God than they were, then happy am I, 
 and blessed are you. Fain I would, that all these expe- 
 riences should knit our hearts to God more, and endear 
 us for ever to Him. What I so much bounty and kind- 
 ness and no returns of love ? At least no further returns ? 
 I may plead in behalf of the Lord with you, as they did 
 for the centurion : ' He loveth our nation (say they) and 
 hath built us a synagogue.' So I may say here. He hath 
 loved you, and poured out His bounty upon you. How 
 many friendly visits from those that you could expe61: but 
 little of? Whence do you think this came ? It is God 
 that hath the key of all these hearts. He secretly turned 
 the cock, and caused them to pour forth kindness upon 
 you. There is not a motion of love in the heart of a 
 friend towards you, but it was God that put it in. 
 
 " Fourthly. — Keep your manna in a golden pot, and 
 forget not Him that hath said so often, ' Remember me.' 
 You have had manna rained plentifully about you ; be 
 sure that something of it be kept. Do not forget all the 
 sermons that you have heard here ; O that you would 
 
FREEDOM FOUND JiND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 337 
 
 labour to repeat them over, to live them over ; you have 
 had such a stock that you may live upon, and your friends 
 too (if you be communicative), a great while together. If 
 anything have been wanting, time for the digesting hath 
 been wanting. See that you well chew the cud, and see 
 that you especially remember the feasts of love. Do not 
 you know who hath said to you so often, * Remember 
 me ?' How often have you heard that sweet word since 
 you came hither ? What ! Do you think it is enough 
 to remember Him for an hour? No, but let it be a living 
 and lasting remembrance. Do not you write that name 
 of His in the dust, that hath written your names upon 
 His heart. Your High Priest hath your names upon His 
 heart, and therewith is entered into the holy place, and 
 keeps them there for a memorial before the Lord con- 
 tinually. O that His remembrance might be ever written 
 upon your hearts, written as with a pen of a diamond, 
 upon tables of marble, that might never be worn out ! 
 That as Aristotle saith of the curious fabrick of Minerva, 
 that he had so ordered the fabrick that his name was 
 written in the midst, that if any went to take that out, the 
 whole fabrick was dissolved. So the name of Jesus should 
 be written upon the substance of your souls, that they 
 should pull all asunder before they should be able to pull 
 it out. 
 
 " Fifthly. — Let the bonds of your afflidlion strengthen 
 the bonds of your affe£lion. Brethren, God hath sent us 
 hither to teach us, among other things, the better to love 
 one another. Love is lovely, both in the sight of God 
 and men ; and if by your imprisonment you have profited 
 in love, then you have made an acceptable proficiency. 
 O brethren, look within ; are you not more endeared one 
 to another ? I bless the Lord for that union and peace 
 
 z 
 
338 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 that hath been ever among you. But you must be sen- 
 sible that we come very far short of that love that wt owe 
 one to another ; we have not that love, that indearedness 
 and tenderness, and complacency, that compassion towards 
 each other, that we ought to have. Ministers should be 
 more endeared one to another, and Christians should be 
 more dear to each other than they were before. We 
 have eaten and drunk together, and lived on our Father's 
 love in one family together ; we have been joined together 
 in one common cause, and all put into one condition. O 
 let the remembrance of a prison, and of what hath passed 
 here, especially those uniting feasts, ingage you to love 
 one another ! 
 
 " Sixthly. — Let present indulgence fit you for future 
 hardships, and do not look that your Father should be 
 always dandling you on His knee. Beloved, God hath 
 used you like fondlings now, rather than like sufferers. 
 What shall I say ? I am at a loss when I think of the 
 tender indulgence, and the yearnings of our heavenly 
 Father towards us. But, my brethren, do not look for 
 such prisons again. 
 
 "Affiiition doth but now play and sport with you, rather 
 than bite you ; but do you look that affli61:ion should 
 hereafter fasten its teeth on you to purpose ; and do you 
 look that the hand that hath now gently stroked you, may 
 possibly buffet you, and put your faith hard to it, when 
 you come to the next tryal. This fondness of your 
 heavenly Father is to be expected only while you are 
 young and tender; but afterward you must look to follow 
 your business, and to keep your distance, and to have 
 rebukes and frowns too when you need them. Bless 
 God for what you have found here, but prepare you, this 
 ]S but the beginning (shall I say the beginning of sorrow ? 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 339 
 
 I cannot say so, for the Lord hath made it a place of 
 rejoycing) ; this is but the entrance of our affli6lion ; but 
 you must look, that when you are trained up to a better 
 perfedlion, God will put your faith to harder exercise. 
 
 " Seventhly. — Cast up your accounts at your return, 
 and see whether you have gone as much forv/ard in your 
 souls, as you have gone backv/ard in your estates. I 
 cannot be insensible but some of you are here to very 
 great disadvantage as to vour affairs in the world, having 
 left your business so rawly at home in your shops, trades, 
 and callings, that it is like to be no little detriment to you 
 upon this account. But happy are ye if you find at your 
 return, that, as much as your affairs are gone backward 
 and behind-hand, so much your souls have gone forward. If 
 vour souls go forward by grace in your sufferings, blessed 
 be God that hath brought you to such a place as a 
 prison is. 
 
 " Eighthly. — Let the snuffers of this prison make your 
 light burn the brighter, and see that your course and dis- 
 course be the more savoury, serious, and spiritual for this 
 present tryal. O brethren ! Now the voice of the Lord 
 is to you, as it is in the prophet Isaiah Ix. i : — ' Arise, 
 and shine !' now ' let your light so shine before men, 
 that others may see your good works, and glorifie your 
 Father which is in heaven.' It is said of those preachers 
 beyond sea, that have been sent into England, and 
 here reaped the benefit of our English practical divinity, 
 at their return they have preached so much better than 
 they had wont to do, that it hath been said of them, 
 ' Apparuit huncfu'nse in AngluV So do you, my brethren, 
 live so much better than you had wont, that when men 
 shall see the change in your lives, they may say of you, 
 ' Apbaruit hunc fu\sse in Custodia.' See that your whole 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 course and discourse be more spiritual and heavenly than 
 ever ; see that you shine in your families v/henyou come 
 home ; be you better husbands, better masters, better 
 fathers ; study to do more than you have done this way, 
 and to approve yourselves better in your family relations 
 than you did before ; that the savour of a prison may be 
 upon you in all companies: then vv^ill you praise and please 
 the Lord. 
 
 " Ninthly, and lastly. — See that you walk accurately, 
 as those that have the eyes of God, angels, and men upon 
 you. My brethren, you will be looked upon now with 
 very curious eyes. God doth expedl more of you than 
 ever ; for He hath done more for you, and He looketh 
 what fruit there will be of all this. Oh ! may there be a 
 sensible change upon your souls by the showers that have 
 fallen in prison, as there is in the greenness of the earth 
 by the showers that have fallen lately abroad. 
 
 '■'•By way of Dehortatton also, I have these four things 
 to leave with you. 
 
 *' First. — Revile not your persecutors, but bless them, 
 and pray for them, as the instruments of conveying great 
 mercies to you. Do not you so far forget the rule of 
 Christ, as when you come home, to be setting your 
 mouths to talk against those that have injured you. 
 Remember the command of your Lord — 'Bless them that 
 curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you, and 
 persecute you.' Whatever they intended, yet they have 
 been instruments of a great deal of mercy to us ; and so 
 we should pray for them, and bless God for the good we 
 have received by them. 
 
 " Secondly. — Let not the humble acknowledgment of 
 God's mercy degenerate into proud, vain- glorious boast- 
 
FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. J4I 
 
 ing, or carnal triumph. I beseech you, see that you go 
 home with a great deal of fear upon your spirits in this 
 respedl, lest pride should get advantage of you, lest instead 
 of humbly acknowledging God's mercy, there should be 
 carnal boasting. Beware of this, I earnestly beg of you, 
 for this will very much spoil your sufferings, and be very 
 displeasing in the sight of God. But let your acknow- 
 ledging of His mercy be ever with humble, self-abasing 
 thankfulness, and be careful that you do not make His 
 mercies to be the fuel of your pride, which were to lose 
 all at once. 
 
 " Thirdly. — Be not prodigal of your liberty upon a con- 
 ceit that the prisons will be easie, not fearful of adven- 
 turing yourselves in the way of your duty. Alas ! I am 
 afraid of both these extreams ; on the one hand, lest some 
 among us, having found a great deal of mercy here, will 
 now think there is no need of any Christian prudence, 
 which is always necessary, and is a great duty. It is not 
 cowardice to make use of the best means to preserve our 
 liberty, not declining our duty. On the other side, there 
 is fear lest some may be fearful, and ready to decline their 
 duty, because they have newly tasted of a prison for it. 
 Far be it from you to distrust God, of whom you have 
 had so great experience, but be sure you hold on in your 
 duty, whatsoever it cost you. 
 
 " Fourthly. — Do not load others with censures, whose 
 judgment, or practice, differs from yours, but humbly bless 
 God that hath so happily direfted y^u. You know all 
 are not of the same mind as to the circumstances of suf- 
 fering, and all have not gone the same way. Far be it 
 from any of you (my brethren) that you should so far for- 
 get yourselves, as to be unmerciful to your brethren, but 
 bless God that hath directed you into a better way. 
 
342 FREEDOM FOUND AND LOST AGAIN. 
 
 Your charity must grow higher than ever ; God forbid 
 that you should increase in censures, instead of increasing 
 in charity. 
 
 " Having spoken to my fellow-prisoners, I have two 
 wortis to speak to you, our friends and brethren with us. 
 
 " First. — Let our experience be your incouragement. 
 O love the Lord, ye our friends, love the Lord ; fear Him 
 for ever ; believe in Him, trust in Him for ever, for our 
 sakesj we have tasted of the kindness of God. 
 
 " You know how good God hath been to us in 
 spirituals and in temporals. Encourage your hearts in the 
 Lord your God, serve Him the more freely and gladly for 
 our sakes. You see we have tryed, we have tasted how 
 good the Lord is ; do you trust Him the more, because 
 we have tryed Him so much, and found him a Friend so 
 faithful, so gracious, that we are utterly unable to speak 
 His praise. Go on and fear not in the way of your duty j 
 verily there is a reward for the righteous. God hath 
 given us a great reward already, but this is but the least ; 
 we look for a kingdom. 
 
 " Secondly, and lastly, — My desire is to our friends, that 
 they will all help us in our praises. Our tongues are too 
 little to speak forth the goodness and the grace of God, 
 do you help us in our praises. Love the Lord the better, 
 praise Him the more, and what is wanting in us, let it be 
 made good by you. O that the praises of God may 
 sound abroad in the country by our means, and for our 
 sakes." 
 
Chapter XIV. 
 
 Jaint, pet Pursuing, 
 
 " Oh ^what a li-velie life, ^what hewvenlie povjer, 
 What spreading njtrtue, nvhat a sparkling fire ; 
 Hoav great, ho--w plentiful, ho^w rich a do-iver, 
 Dost thou njuithin this dying flesh inspire.'"'' 
 
 SIR JOHN DAVIES. 
 
 OME time before the prisoners left 
 Ilchester, they heard of the great fire in 
 London, in which more than thirteen 
 thousand houses were consumed. The 
 spirit of the times was curiously shown, day by day, 
 in the various popular accounts and speculations 
 that came drifting in to them along with the news. 
 Some persons thought that the disaster was the work 
 of the Romanists ; others thought that surely the 
 Baptists had set the houses on fire; indeed, this charge 
 had adlually been reported in a letter from the 
 
344 F^mr, tet pursuing. 
 
 Court; how, then, could it be doubted!* Opinions 
 in the outside world were equally confli(5ling as to the 
 particular lesson which this judgment was intended 
 to teach the nation. Some said that it marked the 
 displeasure of Heaven at the leniency shown by 
 the church to Nonconformists ;f others declared it 
 to be the terrible voice of God to the chiefs in 
 Church and State, crying, '' Let my people go, 
 that they may serve me ; and if ye will not, behold, 
 thus and thus I will do unto you." J Our friends 
 probably inclined to the latter belief, but to their 
 honour, their deep concern took a pradical rather 
 than a speculative form. Affli(5lion had made 
 them know " the heart of a stranger," and taught 
 them to sympathise with the citizens who, shelter- 
 less and in despair, were wandering over the fields 
 in sight of the waste where their homes had been. 
 They longed to help them, but what could they 
 
 *■ Attempts were made to bring fresh odium on the * seft every- 
 where spoken against ' by charging on its members this evil deed. 
 Among other instances see a letter from the Duke of Buckingham, 
 September 6, 1666, who says, " A great many Anabaptists have 
 been taken setting houses on fire." — MS. in the Guildhall Library. 
 Of course these charges were brought by informers in pay of the 
 Government. 
 
 f Seth Ward, bishop of Exeter, preached a sermon before the 
 House of Lords, Oftober 10, 1666, in which he laboured to prove 
 that the fire was intended to establish the church, by rousing Govern- 
 ment " to uphold religion in the sincerity and uniformity thereof, to 
 prevent it from undermining toleration.'''' 
 
 X Philip Henry. 
 
FAINT, TE-r PURSUING. 345 
 
 do ? Though they would be soon out of prison, 
 it would be with the prospe6l of soon entering it 
 again. Their trade was gone ; all the world was 
 against them ; and poor as they had been made by 
 a life of penalties, on them alone rested the respon- 
 sibility of keeping alive their many ministers and 
 co-religionists who had been made poorer still. 
 However, the first thing they did when set free, 
 was to join in making a colledlion for the sufferers 
 in London. To this colle6lion Mr. Alleine gave 
 a sum, which from its liberal proportion was in- 
 tended to be a stimulus to others, and, at the same 
 time, as it was afterwards discovered, he gave 
 more than as much in secret. In this way he and 
 his people offered God praise for their deliverance. 
 To be grateful, is something more than to feel 
 beautiful and bounding sensations of delight, to offer 
 complimentary acknowledgments in language, or to 
 thunder back thanksgiving songs ; it is essentially 
 a pra6tical thing, and its first question is, " What 
 shall I render to the Lord for all His benefits ? " 
 So they thought. 
 
 His last imprisonment, both by its diredl in- 
 fluence, and by depriving him of his intended visit 
 to Devizes, had greatly increased his disorder. 
 All through the winter and spring it continued to 
 gain ground; but, weak as he was, he preached, kept 
 many days of fasting and thanksgiving, and fre- 
 quently administered the Lord's Supper to his people. 
 
346 faint:, vet pursuing. 
 
 In June, 1667, he went to Devizes again. In- 
 formers, constables, distraining officers, turnkeys, 
 and such-like disreputable ministers of religion, were 
 not so adlive here as in some other places. On this 
 account, therefore, as well as on account of the 
 medicinal advantages which the sick man primarily 
 sought, Devizes was always an attractive retreat. 
 In a letter to Taunton he thus alludes to it : — 
 
 " You may not think that I have forgotten you, 
 and consulted my own ease and pleasure : but if 
 God prosper my Intentions, I shall be found to have 
 been daily serving you in this retirement. I will 
 assure you, I am very tender of preserving all that 
 little strength that God doth add to me entirely for 
 your sakes. I bless the Lord I am in great tran- 
 quillity here In this town, and walk up and down 
 the corporation without any questioning me. I 
 seem to myself to be retired to this place, as a 
 vessel rent and shatter'd and torn In the service, 
 that Is come to recruit in the harbour. And here I 
 am, as it were, rigging, and repairing, and vidlual- 
 ling, to put forth again in the service ; which I 
 shall do with the first wind, as soon as I am 
 ready." 
 
 A week after this he writes : — " I longed to hear 
 of your welfare, but by reason of the carryer's in- 
 termitting his journeys, could not till now obtain 
 my desires, neither had I opportunity till the last 
 week of writing to you. I rejoyce to hear, by 
 
Fy^INT, YET PURSUING. ^A-J 
 
 Mr. Ford, of God's continual goodness towards 
 you ; He is your Shepherd, and therefore it is that 
 you do not want. * Me you have not always, but 
 He is ever with you. His rod and His staff shall 
 comfort you.' 
 
 " O beloved flock, I may give you the salutation 
 of the angels, ^ Hail, you are highly favoured of 
 the Lord, blessed are you among men ;' though 
 you are but poor and despised, like little Ben- 
 jamin among the thousands of Judah, you carry 
 away the blessing and the privilege from all the 
 rest. God hath done more for the least of you 
 than for the whole world of mankind besides, put 
 all their mercies together. Fear not, little flock, it 
 is your Father's good pleasure to give you the 
 kingdom. ' Blessed are you of the Lord, for yours 
 is the kingdom of heaven.' All that the Scripture 
 speaks of that kingdom of glory, that kingdom of 
 peace, of righteousness, that everlasting kingdom, 
 it speaks to you. Behold your inheritance, see 
 that you believe. 
 
 " I charge you to beware of the world. When 
 Saul had gotten his kingdom, he left off taking care 
 for the asses. O remember, yours is the kingdom ! 
 What are you the better that you have all this in 
 your Bibles, if you do not weigh it by frequent and 
 serious consideration, and ponder these sayings in 
 your hearts ? Beloved, I have written these things 
 to you, that your joy may be full." 
 
348 FAINT, TET PURSUING. 
 
 While staying at Devizes, several old clerical friends 
 of his, living there or in the county, would, when 
 they heard of his visit, seize the rare chance of 
 spending an hour in his company. 
 
 One of these was Mr. Timothy Sacheverell, of 
 Trinity College, Oxford, and late minister of Tarrant 
 Hinton. At this time he was living at Winterbourne 
 in Wilts, but would be occasionally at Devizes, and 
 soon made it his home. He was held in extraordi- 
 nary resped; even by his opponents. Bishop Kennett 
 speaks of his "great worth, temper, and learning."* 
 He was fervent in spirit, serving the Lord ; and 
 although no Syrian hermit was ever a greater lover 
 of peace, no knight of Gothic romance was ever 
 inspired with a grander bravery. Not long before 
 this visit, while he was kneeling in prayer with his 
 family one morning, several troopers rushed Into 
 the room, and one of them, holding a pistol at his 
 back, commanded him in the King's name imme- 
 diately to stand up, but he still continued praying. 
 When he had concluded, he rose and calmly asked 
 the trooper how he durst thus pretend in the 
 King's name to interrupt him, while he and his 
 family were presenting their petitions to the King 
 of kings ! 
 
 Another person of note amongst the Noncon- 
 formists here was Mr. Benjamin Fflower, the 
 
 * Register, p. 915. 
 
FAINT YET PURSUING. 
 
 3A-9 
 
 ejeded vicar of Cardiff. His family, like that of 
 Mr. Alleine, had been known about the neighbour- 
 hood of Devizes for some centuries past, and these 
 had lately been drawn yet more closely together by 
 intermarriages. Though not yet living in the town, 
 his house was not far away, and he would not 
 negled this opportunity of seeing his eminent 
 kinsman. Mr. Fflower was a man of glowing 
 piety, and his great labours have led to his being 
 called " the Apostle of Wiltshire Dissenters." 
 Shortly after this interview, a Presbyterian church 
 was organized in the town, and he became its first 
 pastor ; and perhaps we may have leave for a 
 moment to glance beyond the strift limit of this 
 history just to notice the fad, that this gentleman, 
 in his own belief at least, lived to be the last 
 survivor of the two thousand confessors. Pre- 
 served in the archives of this church, there is 
 a paper extraded from the diary of Defoe's 
 friend, Thomas Webb, once a member, in which 
 the story of the pastor's resignation is ' thus 
 related: — 
 
 "1709. Jpril 10. — The reverend Father in 
 God,* Mr. Benjamin Fflower, administered the 
 Lord's Supper to us, this day being by him desired 
 
 * 'Those ministers who beget converts to Christ may most 
 properly be called Fathers in Godr— Sermon on i Cor. iv. 15, 
 preached by Mr. Atkins before Bishop Gauden, in 1663. 
 
3S<^ 
 
 FAINT YET PURSUING. 
 
 to be his last day of doing so; his great age, 
 being eighty-two years old, not admitting him to 
 take the journey, or so hard work upon him ; 
 therefore he desired the whole work might be 
 left to Mr. Chauncey,* and he excused, which was 
 agreed unto. And so accordingly, after the Sacra- 
 ment, he took his leave of us, which made tears 
 run from the eyes of almost all the congregation, 
 telling us he was superannuated for the work, and 
 he knew not one alive but himself that was thrust 
 out by the Bartholomew Ad: ; all his brethren 
 having got the start of him, and got home before 
 him ; and what he was left behind so long for, 
 God only knew ! But we have received much 
 good from his lips ; they have dropped honey and 
 the honey-comb !"f 
 
 Another, whose friendly face might be some- 
 times seen, was Mr. William Gough, of Queen's 
 College, Cambridge, who, since the passing of the 
 Five-Mile A(5l, had been minister of a Baptist con- 
 gregation at Earl Stoke, a little over five miles from 
 Devizes, but he was frequently in the town, and 
 was afterwards a pastor here. 
 
 It is certain that he often saw the excluded vicar 
 
 * Mr. Chauncey died at Devizes, May 26, 1750. — Wilson MS. 
 
 f This MS. furnishes a clear refutation of the report printed by 
 Bishop Kennett, to the effe£l " that Mr. Fflower, after the 
 Restoration, returned to his native country in Gloucestershire, con- 
 formed, and had a benefice there." — Kennett's Register. 
 
FAINT, YE-T PURSUING. J^I 
 
 of Compton, worthy Mr. Frayling, a meek-looking 
 old scholar, in shabby skull-cap and threadbare 
 cloak, who at this time, and ever since his trouble, 
 had preached at Devizes secretly, on alternate 
 Sundays, with Mr. Obadiah Wills.* There, and 
 in surrounding places, he kept on his patient services 
 even after he was blind with years, and had to be 
 led by a friend across the downs from village 
 to village. When he died, his neighbour Mr. 
 Gough eulogized him as " a Moses for meek- 
 ness, a Nathaniel for uprightness, and one of 
 Eliphaz's happy men, who came to his grave in 
 full age." 
 
 Another of Mr. Allcine's companions during 
 this month was Mr. Ford, once one of the most 
 famous tutors at Magdalen College, Oxford, and 
 after that, a member of the Westminster Assembly. 
 It is pleasant to pidure these dotlores umbratici 
 together, enjoying a short holiday for once in their 
 lives, now walking through the fields in company, 
 now standing by the " bowery clefts and leafy 
 shelves " of the lane-side, where the spring is flow- 
 ing, and now meeting in some cottage or garden- 
 croft to a feast of yet holier happiness. In some 
 of their meeting-places, however, great secrecy was 
 needed, and watchers had to be on the look-out, for 
 their happiness was likely to suffer interruption 
 
 * Obadiah Wills, M.A , formerly reftor of Alton Priors. 
 
;^^2 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 from visitors, profane as the harpies that descended 
 on the feast of ^neas. 
 
 But their intercourse was made peculiarly solemn 
 by the sudden though joyful death of Mr. Tobie 
 Alleine. 
 
 Joseph writes : — "It hath pleased the Lord to add 
 to my affli6lion since my coming by taking 
 away my dear father, — the day of whose glorious 
 translation was the day after my arriving here. 
 But I bless the Lord, I do believe and expetfl the 
 return of the Redeemer with all His saints, and the 
 most glorious resurrection of my own dead body 
 with all believers ; and this makes me to rest In 
 hope, and fills me with unspeakably more joy than 
 the death of myself or any other saint can with 
 grief." 
 
 This trouble came not alone. The waters failed 
 to produce the usual effedl on the Invalid, and in 
 July he was stricken down with a fever. When to 
 all appearance he was lying at the point of death, 
 he didated a long letter to his people, closing with 
 this prayer: — 
 
 " O Father of spirits, that hath set me over thy 
 flock to watch for their souls, as one that must 
 give an account ; I have long studied thy will, 
 and taught in thy name, and do unfeignedly bless 
 thee that any have believed my report. I have 
 given unto them the words which thou gavest me, 
 and they have received them. I have manifested 
 
FAINT, YET PURSUING. jfj 
 
 thy name unto them, and they have kept thy 
 Word. And now I am no more with them, but I 
 come unto thee. Holy Father, keep them through 
 thine own name; for they are thine. As they 
 have kept the word of thy patience, so keep thou 
 them in the hour of temptation. They are but a 
 flock — a little and a helpless flock — but thou art 
 their Shepherd ; suff^er them not to want ; do thou 
 feed them and fold them; let thy rod and thy 
 stafi^ comfort them, and let not the beasts of prey 
 fall upon them to the spoiling of their souls. 
 
 " But what shall I do for them that will not be 
 gathered ? I have called after them, but they would 
 not answer ; I have charged them in thy name, but 
 they would not hear ; I have studied to speak 
 persuasively to them, but I cannot prevail. Then 
 I said, I have laboured in vain ; I have spent my 
 strength for nought, and in vain ; yet I cannot give 
 them over, much less may I give Thee over. Lord, 
 persuade Japhet to dwell in the tents of Shem. 
 Lord, compel them to come in, and lay the hands of 
 mercy upon them, as thou didst on lingering Lot, 
 and bring them forth, that they may escape for 
 their lives and not be consumed. Lord, I pray 
 thee, open their eyes that they may see, and lay 
 hold upon their hearts by thy omnipotent grace. 
 Do thou turn them, and they shall be turned. O 
 bring back the miserable captives, and sufl^er not 
 the enemy of mankind to drive away the most of 
 
 A A 
 
354 FAINT, yet: pursuing. 
 
 the flock before mine eyes, and to deride the fruit- 
 less endeavours of thy labourers, and boast over 
 them, that he can do more with them, though he 
 seek to ruine them, than all the beseechings, counsels 
 and charges of thy servants that seek to save them. 
 Lord, if I could find out anything that would pierce 
 them, that would make its way into their hearts, 
 thou knowest I would use it. But I have been 
 many years pleading thy cause in vain ; O let not 
 these endeavours also be lost ! O God, find out 
 every ignorant, every prophane sinner, every 
 prayerless soul, and every prayerless family, and 
 convince them of their miserable condition while 
 without thee in the world. Set thy image upon 
 their souls — set up thy worship in their families. 
 Let not pride, ignorance, or slothfulness, keep them 
 in negle6t of the means of knowledge. Let thine 
 eyes be over the place of my desires for good, from 
 one end of the year to the other end thereof Let 
 every house therein be a seminary of religion ; and 
 let those that cast their eyes upon these lines find 
 thee sliding in by the secret influence of thy grace 
 into their hearts, and irresistably engaging them to 
 do thy pleasure. Amen, amen." 
 
 Li six weeks' time the sentence of death seemed 
 to be revoked, and he was able to travel back to 
 Taunton. He only remained there for a short 
 period, and in September we find him at Dor- 
 chester. 
 
FAINT, TEr PURSUING. 2SS 
 
 There lived at Dorchester, in those days, " a 
 very worthy and reverend physician," one Dr. 
 Loss, a great helper to the persecuted ministers, 
 whose Latin memoranda respeding them afforded 
 assistance to Antony Wood.* Unhappily, that 
 note-book, though much searched for lately, cannot 
 be found. Most Ukely it contains some account 
 of Mr. Alleine's last days, for the do6lor became 
 his kind friend. Till now they had never met, but 
 prescriptions and medicines had come by carrier. 
 Now, a personal interview was needful, and this was 
 the reason for the journey. 
 
 Dr. Loss advised Mr. and Mrs. Alleine to stay 
 in the town for a fortnight; but the small-pox then 
 raging everywhere, they could not hire a chamber, 
 and were in great perplexity until a certain Widow 
 Bartlettf found out their inn, and courteously 
 invited them home. Two or three days after this, 
 the sick man suddenly lost the use of all his limbs. 
 Looking at his dead hands, he said, " the Lord 
 gave, and the Lord hath taken away, and blessed be 
 the name of the Lord." He could not lift a finger. 
 Two attendants were needed even to turn him in 
 bed, and this they sometimes did forty times in a 
 night. In this living death he lay from September 
 
 * Athens, iii. 404. Lansdown MSS. 1236, folio 104. 
 + Mr. Bartlett had been minister at Tiverton, and, it is said, great 
 labours hastened his end. — Nonconformist's Memorial, vol. i., p. 464. 
 A A 2 
 
2^6 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 the 28th to November the i6th, and all through 
 the winter there was but little change. But even 
 this forlorn estate had its alleviations ; for when the 
 Nonconformists of the place knew of his presence 
 and affliction, all were constantly eager to cheer 
 him with new surprises of kindness. 
 
 The do6lor came twice every day for fourteen 
 weeks, ever refusing fees ; and the gentry living near 
 supplied everything that could be invented to give 
 him comfort. All this made him say, " I was a 
 stranger, and Mercy took me in ; in prison, and 
 Mercy came to me ; I was sick, and Mercy 
 visited me." 
 
 Some old friends from Taunton having come 
 to see him once more, he was much revived. 
 Propped up with pillows, and the curtains drawn 
 back, " He desired them," says Mrs. Alleine, " all 
 to stand round the bed, and would have me take 
 out his hand and hold it forth, that they might 
 shake his hand though he could not shake theirs." 
 Then, as he was able, he thus spake to them : — 
 
 " O how it rejoices my heart to see your faces 
 and to hear your voices, though I cannot speak as 
 heretofore to you. Methinks I am now like old 
 Jacob, with all his sons about him. Now you see 
 my weak estate ; thus have I been for many weeks 
 since I parted with Taunton, but God hath been 
 with me, and I hope with you ; your prayers have 
 been heard and answered for me, many ways ; the 
 
FAIN-T, TET PURSUING. ^Sl 
 
 Lord return them into your own bosoms. My 
 friends, life is mine, death is mine ; in that covenant 
 I was preaching of to you, is all my salvation and 
 all my desire ; although my body do not prosper, 
 I hope, through grace, my soul doth. 
 
 " I have lived a sweet life by the promises, and 
 I hope, through grace, can die by a promise. It 
 is the promises of God, which are everlasting, that 
 will stand by us. Nothing but God in them will 
 stead us in a day of affli(5tion. 
 
 '^ My dear friends, I now feel the power of 
 those do6lrines I preached to you, on my heart — 
 the dodlrines of faith, of repentance, of self-denial, 
 of the covenant of grace, of contentment, and the 
 rest ; O that you would live them over, now I 
 cannot preach to you ! 
 
 " It is a shame for a believer to be cast down 
 under affli6lions, that hath so many glorious privi- 
 leges, justification, adoption, sandification, and 
 eternal glory. We shall be as the angels of God in 
 a little while. Nay, to say the truth, believers 
 are, as it were, little angels already, that live in the 
 power of faith. O, my friends ! live like be- 
 lievers, trample this dirty world under your feet ; 
 be not taken with its comforts, nor disquieted with 
 its crosses ; you will be gone out of it shortly." 
 
 When they again came to take leave of him, he 
 prayed with them as far as his weak state would 
 suffer him, and, in the words of Moses and the 
 
2^S FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 apostles, the same he always used after a sacrament, 
 he blessed them, saying — 
 
 " The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord 
 cause His face to shine upon you, and give you 
 peace. And the God of peace, that brought again 
 from the dead our Lord Jesus, through the blood 
 of the everlasting covenant, make you perfedl in 
 every good work to do His will, working in you 
 that which is well-pleasing in His sight, through 
 Jesus Christ, to whom be glory, for ever and ever. 
 Amen." 
 
 Then he spake thus : — 
 
 " Farewell, farewell, my dear friends. Remember 
 me to all Taunton. I beseech you and them, if I 
 never see your faces more, go home and live over 
 what I have preached to you, and the Lord provide 
 for you when I am gone. O ! let not all my 
 labours and sufferings, let not my wasted strength, 
 my useless limbs, rise up in judgment against you 
 at the great day of the Lord." 
 
 Li the last week of January, 1668, modern style, 
 while he was lying helpless on the bed, a messenger 
 came with the heavy tidings of his brother Nor- 
 man's death. Mr. Norman had evidently sunk a 
 vi(5lim to the agencies which were now wasting away 
 the life of his friend. Long imprisonment had made 
 the strong man weak. Determination to fulfil his 
 ministry amidst persecutions, and to do by incessant 
 and multiplied services, in small and secret com- 
 
FAINT, TET PURSUING. 1)^9 
 
 panics, what the law forbad his doing in a public 
 and comprehensive way, had made him weaker 
 still. Sorrow for the sorrows of the church, and 
 shame for the shame of his country, now left with- 
 out a hand or a voice to vindicate her stricken 
 strength or lift her degraded name, weakened him 
 still more. The hardships endured by his relatives 
 for nonconformity — the fines, expensive processes, 
 and impediments to trade which had at last com- 
 pelled Humphrey Blake, his wife's father, to sell 
 the estate which the admiral had left him, and emi- 
 grate with his family to Carolina,* were troubles 
 which, joined to all the rest, broke his noble heart, 
 and brought him to an early grave. He was not 
 forty when he died. In the register of St. Mary's, 
 Bridgewater, where he was buried, the officiating 
 clergyman has written : — " Feb. 9, 1668. Johannes 
 Norman, Presbiter Do^us." 
 
 Norman and Alleine were as truly martyrs as 
 were Ridley and Latimer. The only difference 
 visible is, that the two former were put to death 
 by Romanists — the two latter, by Protestants ; the 
 former died in a fire lighted by a torch — fire that 
 
 * Mr. Blake left two daughters in England, one married to George 
 Crane, ex-M.P. for Bridgewater, the other married to Mr. John 
 Norman. Sarah, his eldest daughter, afterwards married Joseph 
 Moreton, Esq., governor of Carolina ; and Joseph, his eldest son, 
 succeeded Mr. Moreton to the governorship, continuing, like his 
 father, a firm Dissenter. 
 
360 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 wrapped the body in its waves, and did its work in 
 an hour ; the latter, in fire lighted by a legislative 
 enactment, the fire of sickness and sorrow, that 
 stung both body and soul — a slow, silent fire that 
 lasted for years. Mr. Alleine's hour was not yet 
 come, but, as Dr. Annesly said of him, '' it was 
 impossible that anguish like his could continue 
 long, and at last his sufferings for Christ hurried 
 him to heaven in a fiery chariot."* 
 
 A few days after this bereavement he was much 
 better, and such was his strong wish to see Taunton 
 again, that Dr. Loss gave his consent, though 
 with many fears for the issue of the experiment. 
 He was borne thither in a horse-litter, and the 
 sight of friends flocking round him seemed to give 
 new strength ; but it was only a deceptive excite- 
 ment, to be followed by long pauses of exhaustion. 
 He could not bear the joy, and was therefore 
 carried out of the way to the quiet mansion at 
 Fullands. The story of the few following months 
 is only one of convulsions and terrific pains 
 interchanging with paralysis, a story too afiii6ling 
 to write or read. Yet " he was full of the praises 
 of God for mercy," praises sung from off the rack 
 of physical anguish, his spirit making " songs in 
 the night." 
 
 The poor wife had one more hope left. They 
 
 * Dr. Samuel Annesly, in 1692. 
 
FAINT, TET PURSUING. j6i 
 
 would try Bath. Huddled within an old wall, a 
 mere maze of five hundred houses, " streets, 
 narrow, uneven, and unpleasant," meanly built, yet 
 full of loud life, the town itself would not be so re- 
 viving to him as his former lodging had been, 
 in the peaceful village grange; but the "King's 
 Bathe was the fairest in Europe," and many 
 of those wonderful books on the virtues of its 
 waters had already been written, which, with a few 
 modern ones, would " fill a decently-sized library."* 
 About the beginning of July, when he was some- 
 what stronger than usual, a horse-litter being again 
 procured for him, he ventured on the journey of 
 forty miles, and in two days accomplished it. 
 " The dodlors were amazed to behold such a wasted 
 obje6l, professing they never saw the like, much 
 wondering how he was come alive, and on his 
 appearance at the bathe some of the ladies were 
 affrighted, as though death had come amongst 
 them." In three weeks' time he was so marvel- 
 lously restored, that, although he could never after- 
 wards walk without assistance, physicians thought 
 that there was no doubt of his ultimate re- 
 covery.f 
 
 * Knight's Land we Live in. 
 
 f Mr. Pepys was here a fortnight before. An interesting account 
 of Bath and its visitors may be seen in his Diary, 13th, i+th, and 
 15th of June, 1668. 
 
362 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 It was but the last bright flicker of a dying 
 flame, but it was truly bright, and he made it so 
 shine before men, that they, seeing his good works, 
 might glorify his Father in heaven. Every day, 
 from five till seven o'clock in the morning, he was 
 alone for prayer, and three other short intervals 
 before night were set apart for the same special 
 retirement ; at seven he was carried to the bath. 
 Much grieved by " the oaths, drinking, and un- 
 godly carriage of the persons of quality there, he 
 did always give his faithful reproofs. His way 
 was," adds his memorialist, " first to converse of 
 things that might he taking with thenty for, being 
 furnished by his studies for any company, he did 
 use his learning for such ends, and by such means 
 hath caught many souls. There were none but did 
 most thankfully accept his reproofs, though close 
 and plain, and showed him more respect after ; the 
 vilest one among them, as I was by several informed, 
 saying of him ' that he never spake with such a 
 man in his life.'" 
 
 About three o'clock he used to be carried in a 
 chair to visit all the schools and almshouses. When 
 on these rounds, one of his efforts was to persuade 
 the teachers to make the Assembly's Catechism one 
 of their class-books. Many copies of it, and also 
 of other small books, he would give for distribution 
 amongst the scholars, and engage to come a week 
 or fortnight after, to see what progress they had 
 
FAINT, YET PURSUING. 363 
 
 made. He always had a school of sixty or seventy 
 poor children at his lodgings on Sunday, to receive 
 Christian instruftion — perhaps the first Sunday 
 school known in all history. No wonder that such 
 a novelty excited alarm, and that the threatened 
 citation of several persons to Wells, before the 
 bishop, to give an account of their implication in 
 it, led to its dissolution. In his daily visits to the 
 poor he would open searching conversations with 
 them respeding their spiritual state, would pray 
 with them, and where it was needed, bestow money. 
 On one occasion he sent for all the " godly poor " 
 that could be found in the place, and gave to every 
 one "a thank-offering" for God's mercy to him. 
 Also inviting all to come, with his more intimate 
 friends, to join in keeping a day of thanksgiving. 
 On the day appointed, Mr. John Howe, Mr. 
 Fairclough and himself conducted the services. 
 
 " That greatest of the Puritan divines," John 
 Howe, was here during these months as a homeless 
 fugitive. Since black Bartholomew day he had 
 procured a doubtful and slender living, by perform- 
 ing any service, however humble, of which he was 
 capable. " Impelled in all probability by necessity," 
 remarks Mr. Henry Rogers, " he published his 
 celebrated treatise entitled, * The Blessedness of 
 the Righteous.' " This was the very time of his 
 doing so. There is no need now to tell of his 
 lofty life, or his well-known writings ; but, for Mr. 
 
364 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 Alleine's sake, it Is good to know that he was a 
 charming companion as well as teacher. The note- 
 book of his friend Dr. Sampson gives proof of 
 this, which ought to be published. Courtly and 
 learned, at home as much with princes as with 
 scholars, delighting to " tilt with lance of light In 
 lists of argument," pouring out in conversation a 
 stream of pleasantry, sparkling anecdote, and varied 
 knowledge of the world — yet most happy in 
 those holiest of exercises which gave most joy to 
 his suffering friend — his presence must have been 
 welcome as the day. 
 
 Mr. Richard Fairclough, the ejected redor of 
 Mellls, was on terms of most endeared intimacy 
 both with Howe and Allelne. Our knowledge of 
 the latter has been assisted by a paper containing 
 some of Mr. Falrclough's reminiscences. He and 
 his family had parted with a thousand a year for 
 nonconformity ; and now he would say to his friends, 
 "I have no treasure but In heaven." When in 
 possession of his rec5tory he gave away all he had, 
 and in his advanced life the grateful offerings of 
 a few London citizens kept him from dying of 
 want. In addition to these fadls, the only In- 
 formation we have of this extraordinary man Is 
 contained In the sermon preached by Mr. Howe 
 on the occasion of his death In 1682. He says 
 '' that about twelve years he continued student 
 (whereof divers, a fellow) and great ornament 
 
FAINT, YE-T PURSUING. 2^ S 
 
 of Emanuel College, Cambridge. He was a man 
 of clear, distind: understanding, of a very quick, 
 discerning and penetrating judgment, that would on 
 a sudden strike through knotty difficulties into the 
 inward centre of truth, with such a felicity that 
 things seemed to offer themselves to him which are 
 wont to cost others a troublesome search." "When 
 re6lor of Mellis, the fame of his preaching made 
 an obscure country village soon become a most 
 noted place ; from sundry miles about, thither was 
 the great resort, so that I have wondered to see so 
 thronged an auditory. . . . His labours here 
 were almost incredible. Besides labours on the 
 Lord's day, he five times in the week prayed 
 and preached an expository le6lure to a consider- 
 able congregation ; nor did he ever produce in 
 public anything which did not smell of the lamp. 
 He also found time not only to visit 
 the sick, but also, in a continual course, all the 
 families within his charge, personally and severally 
 to converse with every one that was capable, 
 labouring to benefit their souls, for his whole heart 
 was in his work. Every day, for many years 
 together, he used to be up by three in the morning, 
 or sooner, and be with God, which was his dear 
 delight, while others slept. The bent of his soul 
 was towards God. He was a mighty lover of 
 God and men. He was ever made up of light and 
 love. . . . All this made that rare and happy 
 
^66 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 temperament with him which I cannot better express 
 than by a pleasant seriousness. What friend of his 
 did ever at first congress see his face but with a 
 grave smile ? When unexpectedly and by surprise 
 he came in among his familiar friends, it seemed as 
 if he had blest the room, as if a new soul or some 
 good genius had come among them."* 
 
 These were Mr. Alleine's chief companions while 
 staying at Bath. We are glad, though not sur- 
 prised, to hear his wife say, " He was now more 
 cheerful than formerly, and seemed to be more 
 quick in his converses, whatever he was put upon, 
 either by scholars or those that were inferior ; and 
 he was likewise more exceedingly affedionate in his 
 carriage to me and all his friends, especially to such 
 as were more heavenly, as Mr. Fairclough and his 
 wife, Mr. How of Torrington, Mr. Joseph Bar- 
 nard and his wife, several of our Taunton friends, 
 Bristol ministers and others, which were a great 
 comfort to us." • 
 
 Dr. Sampson's note-book contains an anecdote 
 of a fafl connedted with this visit, which we may 
 here give, not so much because of its intrinsic im- 
 portance, as because it has never yet been printed ; 
 and because, also, it brings into the circle of our 
 acquaintance the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, reAor of 
 Bath Abbey, prebend of Worcester, chaplain in 
 
 * Howe's Works, vol. iii., p. 413. — Hunt's edition. 
 
FAIN'T, TE-r PURSUING. 367 
 
 ordinary to his Majesty, and likewise a most dis- 
 tinguished authority on the subjed: of ghosts and 
 witches. 
 
 " Of Mr. Glanvil. 
 
 " When he was minister of the Bathe, he was 
 very desirous to heare the converse of Mr. Howe, 
 which Mr. Howe was shy to afford, though then at 
 the Bathe, and therefore leisure enough. At last, he 
 visits Mr. Howe, and after kind expressions pressed 
 him to preach, which Mr. Howe not yielding to, he 
 promised al safety imaginable : he would needs know 
 the reason of this refusal. After much urging, 
 Mr. Howe said, ^ Shal I preach for y^ man who 
 said he would as soon worship a Lleek or an Onion 
 as the God of the Calvinists ? ' Mr. Glanvil 
 pressed him hard to know who was his informer ; 
 and he would not tel him. * I know,' said Mr. 
 Glanvil, ' how it was : when I saw that venerable 
 person, Mr. Joseph Alleine there, it put such an aw 
 upon me, that I knew not what I said ; I know I 
 was preaching about and against the supra-lapsa- 
 rians, but what, I have clene forgot.' 
 
 " From Mr. Howe." 
 
 " What a strange passion is indignation against 
 a man, that we fear can over-argue and confound 
 us, — either passion or pride made him mad for 
 
368 FAINT, YET PURSUING. 
 
 the timCj or he was afterwards guilty of great 
 flattery and hypocrisy."* 
 
 Some of Mr. Glanvil's friends thought of him 
 as an ingenious, amiable, not very earnest man, 
 who walked circumspe6lly, kept his eye open 
 to most chances, and had an instincflive tendency to 
 the safe and sunny side of life. It was a curious 
 thing in those days, it would be even in our own, 
 for a church dignitary to ask a Dissenting minister 
 to preach in his pulpit ; and it is much to be feared 
 that Mr. Howe regarded his courtesy only as the 
 vibration of a church weathercock, showing a change 
 in the wind. The bitter persecution of the Dis- 
 senters, combined with the utter unworthiness of 
 the men who now held political and sacerdotal 
 power, had led to a strong though brief re-aftion of 
 popular feeling. Mr. Evelyn had lately predicted 
 the speedy return of the nation to a commonwealth. 
 Our friend, Mr. Pepys, had just written, " The 
 Nonconformists are mighty high, and their meet- 
 ings frequented and connived at, and they do expe6l 
 to have their day soon."f "Mr. Hollier dined 
 with my wife and me, and had much discourse 
 about the bad state of the church, and how the 
 clergy are become to be men of no worth in the 
 world ; and as the world do now generally discourse. 
 
 * Add. MSS. 44.60. 
 •f- 21 December, 1667. 
 
FAINT, YET PURSUING. 369 
 
 they must be reformed, and I believe the hierarchy 
 will be shaken, whether they will or no."* At the 
 very time when the little incident under review 
 occurred at Bath, the worthy diarist wrote : — 
 "July 18. — My old acquaintance Will Swan to 
 see me, who continues a factious fanatic still, and I 
 do use him civilly, in expedation that these fellows 
 may grow great again." By a stroke of skilful 
 policy, was Mr. Glanvil seeking to use John Howe 
 as our other friend was using Will Swan ? The 
 thought will obtrude itself, but let us dismiss it. 
 The writings of the Bath redor contain some truly 
 liberal sentiments. A few leaders of all parties 
 thought well of him ; and if we had no other 
 evidence in his favour, we should be inclined to 
 think that he must, upon the whole, have been a 
 good minister, or he would not have been stigma- 
 tised as a bad one by Antony Wood. 
 
 * Februaiy 16, 1667-8. 
 
 B B 
 
Chapter XV. 
 
 CoU for tbz IBxmc. 
 
 " Bene inquit, 'veritatem dixisti : consummatum est ^ 
 
 Et sic pn-vimento sua casulte decantans : * Gloria Patri, et flio et 
 Spiritui SanSlo.'' Cum Spiritum Safifiiim nominasset, spirit um e cor pore 
 exhala-uit ultimum, ac sic regna migra'vii ad celestia.'"' 
 
 CUTHEERTI EPISTOLA DE OBITU VENERABILIS BEDiE. 
 
 Y work is done. One day, when, for 
 four hours, attendants had been waiting 
 in the hush of strained expe6lancy for 
 the last moment of Joseph Alleine's 
 hfe on earth, — when they almost thought that all 
 was over, — when the physician, watch in hand, had 
 whispered, " Only a few minutes now," — these 
 words broke from his lips like a distant sound, 
 " Weep not for me ; my work is done." 
 
 He was mistaken. He had yet more work to 
 do. When just passing through the shadows that 
 border the spirit-land, he was summoned to turn 
 
TOLL FOR THE BR.-iVE. 37 I 
 
 back into the daylight of this world again for 
 work. The pleasant sojourn at Bath, and all the 
 works done there, came after this — but we have 
 now nearly reached the end of the story. 
 
 Faithful unto death, his last work on earth con- 
 templated the religious instruftion of children. 
 With great difficulty, he accomplished a journey of 
 five miles to see his friend, Mr. Joseph Barnard, who 
 had, like himself, just "had a great deliverance;" 
 but whether from sickness, or prison, or both, has 
 not been told us. He proposed that they should 
 unite in presenting " a thank-offering to God," by 
 printing, at their own expense, six thousand copies 
 of the Assembly's Catechism ; and that they should 
 then engage the assistance of their friends to send a 
 hundred copies to each minister in Wiltshire and 
 Somersetshire who would promise to undertake 
 their distribution among the children around them. 
 Mr. Barnard consented, the plan was completed, 
 a letter was drawn up to be sent to each minister in 
 their names conjointly, arrangements were made 
 'for receiving the report of results, and now the 
 work of life was done. 
 
 While at Mr. Barnard's house his strength 
 dropped rapidly, and the horse-Htter was again sent 
 for to take him back to Bath. On the 3rd of 
 November, he felt that the hand of death was on 
 him, and asked his friends to pray for him, " be- 
 cause his time was very short." Let the close of 
 B B 2 
 
372 
 
 rOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 the story be told by his wife : — " At night he said 
 to me, * Well, now, my dear heart, my companion 
 in all my tribulations and afflictions, I thank thee 
 for all thy pains and labours for me, at home and 
 abroad, in prison and liberty, in health and sick- 
 ness.' Reckoning up many of the places we had 
 been in, in the days of our afflidlion, and utter- 
 ing many most endearing and affedlionate expres- 
 sions, he concluded with many holy breathings to 
 God for me, that He would requite me, and never 
 forget me, and fill me with all manner of grace 
 and consolations ; and that His face might still 
 shine upon me, and that I might be supported and 
 carried through all difficulties. 
 
 " After this he desired me to see for a ' Pradice 
 of Piety ;' and I procuring one for him, he turned 
 his chair from me, that I might not see, and read 
 the 'Meditations about Death' in the latter end 
 of that book ; which I discerning, asked of him 
 whether he did apprehend his end was near ? To 
 which he replied, he knew not, in a few days I 
 would see ; and so fell into discourse, to divert me, 
 desiring me to read two chapters to him, as I used 
 to do every night ; and so he hasted to bed, not 
 being able to go to prayer ; and with his own hands 
 did very hastily undoe his coat and doublet, which 
 he had not done in many months before. In a 
 quarter of an hour after, he fell into very strong 
 convulsions ; which I being much affrighted at. 
 
TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. ^7 3 
 
 called for help, and sent for the doc5lors, who used all 
 former and other means, but no success the Lord 
 was pleased to give then to any. But they con- 
 tinued for two days and nights, not ceasing one hour. 
 
 " This was most grievous to me, that I saw him 
 so like to depart, and that I should hear him speak 
 no more to me ; fearing it would harden the wicked 
 to see him removed by such a stroke ; for his fits 
 were most terrible to behold. And I earnestly 
 besought the Lord, that if it were His pleasure, He 
 would so far mitigate the heavy stroke I saw was 
 coming upon me, by causing him to utter some- 
 thing of his heart before He took him from me, 
 which He graciously answered me in ; for he that 
 had not spoke from Tuesday night, did on Friday 
 morning, about three o'clock, call for me to come to 
 him, speaking very understandingly, between times, 
 all that day. But that night, about nine o'clock, 
 he brake out with an audible voice, speaking for 
 sixteen hours together, those and such-like words as 
 you formerly had account of; and did cease but a 
 very little space, now and then, all the afternoon. 
 
 " About three in the afternoon he had, as we 
 perceived, some confli6l with Satan, for he uttered 
 these words : — ' Away, thou foul fiend, thou enemy 
 of all mankind, thou subtile sophister, art thou 
 come now to molest me — now I am just going — 
 now I am so weak, and death upon me ^ Trouble 
 me not, for I am none of thine ! I am the Lord's ; 
 
374 
 
 TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 Christ is mine, and I am His ; His by covenant. 
 I have sworn myself to be the Lord's, and His 
 I will be. Therefore, be gone !' These last words 
 he repeated often, which I took much notice of. 
 Thus his covenanting with God was the means he 
 used to expel the Devil and all his temptations." 
 
 At six o'clock on Saturday evening the great 
 vidlorious spirit passed away. 
 
 The mourners could not forget the charge given 
 by their beloved minister while yet with them, — 
 " If I should die fifty miles away, let me be buried 
 at Taunton ;" and a grave was, therefore, found 
 for him in St. Mary's chancel. 
 
 To-day, as you stand alone in the stone-chamber 
 near it, with the ancient register before you, having 
 suddenly lighted upon the entry, fresh as if writ- 
 ten yesterday — " Mr. Joseph Alleine, minister, 
 November 17, 1668," — it is starthng to think that 
 perhaps the last time these words were looked at, 
 poor widowed Theodosia was standing by. The 
 thought is magical. All at once you are living back 
 in that old November day, — "a certain trembling 
 consciousness seems to breathe through the air," — 
 faces and forms seem to hover and glow out of the 
 blank twilight j and though alone, you are in 
 solemn company ; — a vast congregation is in the 
 church, and all around it. There ! you see John 
 Howe and Richard Fairclough, just come from 
 
rOLL FOR THE BRAVE. ^1 S 
 
 Bath with the sorrowing train. Old George Newton 
 is close at your side, " leaning upon the top of his 
 staff;" and you catch the very tones of the moment 
 while he is saying, " Beloved, it is not rebellion for 
 me to mourn. In holy writ, you find an old 
 prophet burying a prophet, and as he stood over 
 his grave he melted and said, Alas, my brother ! " 
 Thus you may live in the past, until its long- 
 vanished voices and scenes strike you at times with 
 the force of present reality. All that your mind 
 has now pidured was once real. The words quoted 
 were adlually spoken ; and it was truly amidst such 
 demonstrations of public sorrow that the remains 
 of the devoted minister were committed to their 
 last resting-place. The spot was afterwards marked 
 by a brass plate in the pavement thus inscribed : — 
 
 HIC JACET DOMINVS JOSEPHVS ALLEINE 
 
 HOLOCAVSTVM TAVNTONENSIS 
 
 ET DEO ET VOBIS. 
 
 An old poet has said : — 
 
 " It is not growing like a tree 
 
 In bulk, doth make man better be. 
 
 A lily of the day 
 
 Is fairer far in May, 
 
 Although it fall and die that night. 
 
 It was the plant and flower of light ; 
 
 In small proportions we just beauties see, 
 
 And in small measures life may perfeft be."* 
 
 * Ben Jonson. 
 
376 TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 This Is true ; but we have more to say of the 
 short Hfe that has now been recorded. 
 
 The short hfe of a flower may be as perfed as 
 the long hfe of a tree, and it may equally answer 
 its own peculiar ends, but those ends are not equally 
 important. The short life of a Christian may be 
 filled with a power of usefulness, that shall reach to 
 heaven and live for ever. We have here an 
 example, at once for our rebuke and for our 
 encouragement, to show what divine attainments 
 may be made, and what noble service done, in a 
 short life. He was not thirty-five years old when 
 he died; but his life was so rich, and so full of 
 efficacy, that he never seemed to be so much alive, 
 even on this earth, as after he was taken from it. 
 His work still went on ; he still preached the glad 
 tidings, and hundreds of thousands have heard him. 
 On many a cottage-wall was seen, soon after his 
 funeral, a broad sheet, on which were printed his 
 last words. The title was, " The Golden Sayings, 
 Sentences, and Expressions of Mr. Vavasor Powell ; 
 with some Choice Sayings of that godly divine, Mr. 
 Joseph Alleine, of Taunton, in Somersetshire."* 
 His letters were then colledled, and along with a 
 simple and afi^edtionate biography, written by his 
 widow, were almost immediately translated into 
 Welch, German, and other languages, and have 
 
 * British Museum. 
 
rOLL FOR THE BRAVE. ^T] 
 
 since passed through almost countless editions.* 
 In 1 67 1, his "Alarm to the Unconverted" first 
 saw the light. It appears to be the substance of 
 sermons preached on conversion. Of this book 
 Dr. Calamy, writing in 1702, remarks, "Multi- 
 tudes will have cause for ever to be thankful for it. 
 No book in the English tongue (the Bible only 
 excepted) can equal it for the number that hath 
 been dispersed ; there have been twenty thousand 
 sold under the title of the * Call,' or ' Alarm,' and 
 fifty thousand of the same under the title of the 
 '■ Sure Guide to Heaven,' thirty thousand of which 
 were at one impression. "f '* It is a wonderful 
 amount of good " says another writer, " which has 
 been accomplished by the solemn and pathetic 
 appeals contained in the * Alarm to the Uncon- 
 verted.' A§ one example it may be mentioned, 
 that towards the close of the last century a minis- 
 ter, more eminent for scholarship than fervour, 
 repeated the substance of its successive chapters to 
 his Highland congregation, as he was engaged in 
 translating the work for some Society ; and the 
 result was a wide-spread awakening, which long 
 prevailed in the distrid of Nether Lorn. "J In 
 1674, his "Remains" were published, under the 
 
 * Moreri. Le Grand Diftionnaire Historique. 1740. 
 
 f Calamy's Account of the Eje^ied Ministers, vol. ii., p. 577. 
 
 J Hamilton's Sacred Classics, vol. ii., p. 219. 
 
378 TOLL FOR THE BRAFE. 
 
 editorial care of his father-in-law ; and, later still, 
 appeared " The Saint's Pocket Book." A complete 
 list of his works will be found in the Appendix. 
 
 The late William Rhodes, whose kindred spirit 
 so fitted him to understand this holy confessor, has 
 left some remarks on his life and works, which, 
 though not intended by him for the public eye, may 
 be given here with propriety. A friend having 
 alluded to Joseph Alleine in the course of a letter 
 to him, he thus replied, " I borrow the hand of 
 another, as I have been obliged to do for so many 
 years past, to write the few lines I may be able to 
 
 didlate You have awakened into fresh love 
 
 and delight my recolledions of one whom I have 
 admired, and aspired to imitate from my earliest 
 
 days I cannot tell you how much I 
 
 love the memory and charafter of that most 
 excellent man, nor the value I put upon his life and 
 Christian letters, which no person of devout sensi- 
 bility can read for the first time without finding 
 himself transported for a while to the finest climate 
 of the spiritual world, and moved with higher aspi- 
 rations towards the life and beauty of holiness. The 
 lights and powers of the world to come are upon 
 him there, as they ruled and delighted the heart of 
 the writer. He possessed all the intensity and 
 refinement of the Puritan piety, — a piety hitherto 
 unequalled in the history of our race, — without any 
 tindlure of its undue austerity and seclusion from 
 
TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 379 
 
 the innocent graces of life. In religious fidelity 
 and tenderness — in holy severity of self-govern- 
 ment — in constant solicitudes and toils for the 
 salvation of men— in ardour and elevation of 
 soul under prolonged sufferings — in frequent 
 and lofty converse with eternal things, he was 
 scarcely inferior to Paul himself, the first of 
 human teachers, the inspired prince of mankind. 
 I do not, of course, for a moment, place Mr. 
 Alleine on a level, in intellecftual endowments, with 
 the great religious minds of that great period : 
 not with Bunyan, who stands alone in profound 
 wisdom and genius, so rich in the illuminations 
 that come from above : nor with Baxter, in his 
 wonderful amplitude of capacity and labour : nor 
 with Howe, in his serene majesty of spirit and 
 magnificence of thought. These were not his dis- 
 tinftions ; but in heavenliness of temper and aftion 
 he was equal to the best, if he did not surpass them 
 all. He united in perfedion what is so seldom 
 attained — the delight and grandeur of contem- 
 plative devotion, with untired adivity in performing 
 the common duties of time." 
 
 Some information will be welcome respefting the 
 final history of Alleine's companions. And, first, 
 it will be asked, " What became of his widow, the 
 companion of all his tribulations ?" She was left 
 with no children. No authentic account can be 
 found of her last years, beyond the simple fad that 
 
380 TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 she died before the horrors of the Monmouth rising 
 began. We should like to know more of her, but 
 from the little that we already know, we are bound 
 to give her a place in the praise of all the churches 
 along with such women as Lucy Hutchinson, Lady 
 Falkland, and Mrs. Margaret Baxter. Next it will 
 be asked, " What became of his companions in the 
 ministry, and the people of their united charge ?" 
 Mr. Newton's last days were full of trouble. As 
 we have seen, he was not a man of courage, but 
 courage came as faith grew stronger, and he returned 
 from his weary concealments about London to serve 
 his former flock, just when the decline of Alleine's 
 power made that return doubly welcome. Li 1672, 
 Paul's Lidependent Meeting v/as built for him, and 
 a license was obtained for it, in accordance with a 
 declaration In favour of the Nonconformists, by 
 Lord Clifford. His peaceful ministry was not 
 permitted to last long. Antony Wood asserts that 
 " he was seized and imprisoned for several years, 
 and justly suffered as a mover of sedition." Such 
 was the ecclesiastical estimate of his loving labours, 
 and such was its reward. The date of his Impri- 
 sonment is now uncertain ; we only know that 
 after his release, though bowed with infirmities, he 
 set forth to face the storm once more, and con- 
 tinued preaching just as ever ; the Interruption he 
 suffered from the legalized fury of bad men, and 
 from the mistakes of the good, only moving him 
 
TOLL FOR THE BR^FE. 38 I 
 
 to say, " Let us earnestly beseech the good Lord 
 to leave His children now no longer out at school, 
 but speedily to fetch them home, and teach them 
 all Himself, and then we shall have great peace." 
 In 168 1, when bordering on his eightieth year, per- 
 secution still raging round him, the good father fell 
 asleep. Again, even scorners were silenced into 
 reverence, and again they allowed the ground within 
 the chancel rails to be opened for a Nonconformist's 
 grave. 
 
 "See now his peaceful breast, 
 Rocked by the hand of death, takes quiet rest ; 
 Disturb him not, but let him sweetly take 
 A full repose, he hath been long awake." * 
 
 He was taken from the evil to come. Only two 
 years after his death a heavy trial befel his people. 
 Their chapel, and that occupied by the Baptists, 
 were both sacked by order of the mayor, who, 
 writing to Sir Leoline Jenkins, says : " We burnt 
 ten cart-loads of pulpit, doors, gates, and seats, in 
 the market-place. We staid till three in the morn- 
 ing before all were burnt. We were very merry. 
 The bells rang all night! The church is now full; 
 thank God for it ! The fanatics dare not open their 
 mouths." f In about a month, the magnate's note 
 of thanksgiving was changed for one more pensive. 
 
 • Quarles. 
 
 ■\ August II, 1683. State Paper Office, Sir L. Jenkins, xiii. 
 
382 lOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 for by that time It was reported that the people met 
 under the roof of private houses, in seven or eight 
 places simultaneously.* Long may their successors 
 meet, and continue to enjoy their rich Inheritance 
 of blessing! 
 
 " What became of Mr. Norman's congrega- 
 tion ?" Their meeting-house suffered at the same 
 time a similar fate. Lord Stowel gives the account 
 in the following words : — " We found the House of 
 Worship which was sooner pluckt down than built 
 and so ought to have bin all the phanatick houses 
 in Bridgewater if they had the least incouragement 
 for they were all able workmen the materialls of 
 the conventicles were carried upon the cornhill 
 which made a bonfire fourteen feet high atopp of 
 which was placed the pulpit and the cushing. Wee 
 only wanted the levit to have given us a farewell 
 sermon there were severall gentlemen of the 
 
 country that came into us We stood 
 
 round the bonfire, and healths were not wanting. 
 The mittig hows was made rown like a cockpit 
 and ould hould sum 400 parsons," f 
 
 " What became of the Dissenters generally ?" 
 The cases just related may be supposed to be rare 
 and exceptional, but In reality they are only 
 average specimens of what took place throughout 
 
 * September 2nd and 22nd. 
 
 f State Papers. The *' Levit " alluded to was Mr. John Moore, 
 A.M., of Brazenose College. 
 
TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 383 
 
 the nation. It was a common thing to deal thus 
 with the chapels of the Nonconformists. The 
 worshippers often anticipated the visits of such 
 destroyers, and to escape some of the terrors of 
 their mirth, that " grew so fast and furious," they 
 quietly destroyed their chapel furniture with their 
 own hands. 
 
 The mobs who once smashed cathedral windows 
 were just as ready to burn conventicle benches. 
 They were not composed of Puritans in the one 
 case, nor of decent ceremonialists in the other ; but 
 of the volatile rascality that will always rejoice in 
 the excitement of a political party, and shout with 
 the winning side. Only be it remembered, that in 
 the one case the outrage was against the order of 
 Government ; in the other, it was in obedience to 
 it. In the one case, most of the accounts of sacri- 
 legious violence are detedled exaggerations ; in the 
 other, they are reports sent to the Secretary of 
 State, and placed among the archives of the nation. 
 
 Zeal for the Aft of Uniformity did not idly 
 waste itself in attacks on mere timber and stone. 
 Persons, not things, were its objeds. Within the 
 compass of three years, the Dissenters of England 
 suffered, in penalties inflided for the worship of 
 God, to the amount of two millions sterling.* 
 From the Restoration to the Revolution, these losses 
 
 * Defoe's Preface to Delaune's Plea. 
 
384 T'OLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 from the same causes rose to twelve or fourteen 
 millions.* In the same space of time, sixty thou- 
 sand persons are said to have suffered on a religious 
 account. The lists of these sufferers were collected 
 with great care and cost by Mr. Jeremy White, 
 who told Lord Dorset that when King James 
 offered him a thousand guineas for the manuscript, 
 he refused to surrender it, knowing that it was only 
 wanted in order to strengthen the interests of 
 Popery.f 
 
 These sufferings Included fines, bonds, transpor- 
 tation, voluntary exile to Holland or America, and 
 death in prison. White gives the number of such 
 deaths as 5,000 ; William Penn states the same 
 number. Picart reports 8,000;:}; Daniel Defoe 
 says, near 8,000. § It Is impossible for us to 
 know with certainty the statistics of that black 
 record, until the books are opened at the judgment 
 day. One who lived through those times remarks, 
 " I have read concerning Zoroaster's book, entitled, 
 * The Similitude,' that it required no less than 
 1,260 ox-hides for the covering of it. I know not 
 how far the sufferings of the Nonconformists under 
 
 * Neale's History ; Toulmin's Edit., vol. iii., p. 273. 
 
 f See Account of Jeremy White M.A., Fellow of Trin. Coll., 
 Cambridge; Palmer's Nonconfonrist's Memorial; also Neale, 
 vol. iii., p. 273 
 
 X Ceremonies et Coutumes Religieuses 5 par B. Picart, tom. x., 
 p. 71. 
 
 § Preface to Delaune's Plea, 171 2, p. 2. 
 
TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 3^S 
 
 the Caroline persecution would go to fill a book of 
 such enormous dimensions, — this I know, it was a 
 persecution too terrible to admit of a similitude, 
 and there is a worthy writer who does not scruple 
 to say, that if the suiFerings of good men in this 
 persecution were distinctly written, our largest books 
 of martyrs would be but an Enchiridion in com- 
 parison with such a history."* 
 
 It has often been argued that the shameless immo- 
 rality that suddenly flooded the nation at the return 
 of the exiled King, gave proof that the religion of 
 Puritanism, which appeared to prevail just before, 
 was only a hollow and pretensive show ; the maxim 
 being true of nations as of individuals, that none 
 can be supremely wicked on a sudden. This is 
 unfair to the Puritans. The fa6ls of the case only 
 prove — what needs no proof — that the large majority 
 of men, even then, were worldly ; that many, of 
 course, were willing to profess from worldly motives 
 State religion — the religion that stood connedled 
 with highest rank and honour, whatever that reli- 
 gion might be ; and that many more were desperate 
 haters of godliness, eager to throw off the restraints 
 which it had imposed upon them. It must still be 
 contended that Christians have seldom been so 
 numerous in proportion to other men as in those 
 days, and that piety has seldom had a higher tone. 
 
 * Eleutheria. London, 1698, p. 83. 
 C C 
 
386 TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 Evidence for this is seen in the vast number of 
 sufferers for Nonconformity, and in the great fight 
 of affli6lions which they so long endured. Would 
 the Son of man find so much " faith on the earth " 
 now ? It may well be doubted. 
 
 Let all honour be given to this noble army of 
 martyrs. Let their living representatives strive * 
 without ceasing to a(5l a part worthy of such an 
 ancestry. Let them be upon their guard lest pros- 
 perity foster effeminacy, and make them " feebler 
 sons of feebler days." Two things in the condudl 
 of our fathers, and especially of their ministers, 
 should be admired and imitated ; first, their deter- 
 mination to maintain, at all costs, that in all matters 
 of religion the sole standard of authority is the 
 word of God, as interpreted by the Spirit of God 
 — the Spirit promised " to every one that asketh ;" 
 next, their determination to maintain a clear, free, 
 and living conscience. In their view, there were 
 many things in the English Episcopacy, considered 
 as a church, but not as an establishment, which 
 were not in accordance with their one standard ; 
 they therefore refused to take orders. They might 
 have accepted the articles as " articles of peace." 
 They might, while thinking some particulars in 
 them contrary to the word of God, have pledged 
 themselves to an acknowledgment of them all as 
 " agreeable to the word of God," secretly meaning, 
 by that phrase, " agreeable in so far as they are 
 
■TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 387 
 
 agreeable." When the plain words of creeds, forms, 
 and offices conveyed teachhigs which seemed to 
 them at variance with the teachings of inspiration, 
 they might, with a little ingenuity, very easy to such 
 praftised casuists, have put upon them a private 
 and reserved constru6tion. They might have per- 
 suaded themselves that many things which they 
 thought unscriptural in the Prayer-book were only 
 little things ; that therefore they could safely avow 
 their unfeigned assent and consent to them, regard- 
 ing untruthfulness or dishonesty in little things to 
 be only a little sin, especially when demanded as 
 part of a formal introdudion to a ministry of holi- 
 ness and truth. They might have thought the adV 
 of subscription an insignificant price to pay for all 
 the splendid advantages of clerical conformity. 
 They might have refused to think at all. But 
 such was not their course. They thought that with 
 their faith differing in many important respefts from 
 the Anglican formulas, the a6t of subscribing to 
 those formulas would either imply that the moral 
 sense within them was dead, or would inflid; a 
 wound upon it of which it soon would die. They 
 thought that any attempt to satisfy conscience, by 
 giving their own " private interpretation " to that 
 which they subscribed, any attempt to pervert, 
 resist, or explain away the meaning of plain words 
 in this particular instance, might injuriously affedt 
 their power of using or understanding plain words 
 
 c c 2 
 
388 TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 in Other instances. They thought that expediency 
 so subtle and evasive might not only destroy their 
 own self-respe6l, but bring suspicion on their teach- 
 ing and discredit on their cause. They therefore 
 declared themselves to be Nonconformists, their 
 people joined them, and all spent the rest of their 
 days in a driving tempest of persecution. 
 
 We hold these men in reverence for afting out 
 their principles so far as they had opportunity of 
 tracing them, but there was one legitimate conclu- 
 sion which they had not reached. It had thus been 
 expressed by Sir Harry Vane, — " The province of 
 the magistrate is the world and man's body ; not 
 conscience and the things of eternity." Only a few 
 thought with him. It would be impiety for us to 
 reproach them because they only saw this truth as 
 " in a glass darkly." It is our vocation to utter it ; 
 but it was not theirs, for the time had not come. 
 They were heroes, true, masculine, and grand ; 
 they had their own work to do, and they did it 
 well ; their own battle to fight, and they fought it 
 nobly ; their own special truth to utter, and they 
 told it with power from heaven ; but the docflrine 
 of religious liberty they had yet to learn through 
 trials, and we are inheriting the knowledge that 
 came out of their experience. Gradually they 
 learned to look beyond the hand that smote them, 
 to the hidden life that set it in motion and nerved it 
 with strength. This they found to be the spirit 
 
TOLL FOR THE BRAFE. 389 
 
 which claims infaUibility, and the right to rule over 
 conscience — a spirit which is not peculiar to any- 
 single se6t, but has been the common sin of all 
 when in circumstances to exercise it. Since alliance 
 with the State is certain to create those circum- 
 stances, modern Dissenters have added to the 
 theoretic basis of dissent adopted by their ances- 
 tors, the principle that every church should, in 
 matters of religion, renounce State patronage and 
 be free from State control. This they regard as 
 only a further development of Puritan scripturism. 
 Holding this tenet, their opinion differs from that 
 of the majority of men, but, in deciding any reli- 
 gious question, they attach little value to majorities. 
 It was a majority that crucified Christ. Christian 
 truth is not with the multitude. The votes for 
 such truth are not to be numbered but weighed, 
 and weighed only in the balances of Scripture. 
 Holding this tenet does not imply the assumption 
 to themselves of any superior intelligence or con- 
 scientiousness over those from whom they differ. 
 It does not imply hostility to the church of 
 England, or injustice to the reputation of the great 
 and holy men who have adorned and still adorn it ; 
 it does not imply that they love their fellow- 
 Christians the less because they may belong to that 
 communion. It rather implies that, to them, 
 differences of pradice as to church order can inter- 
 pose no bar to Christian love, or perfe6l equality. 
 
39^ 
 
 TOLL FOR THE BRAVE. 
 
 They would give to others what they claim for 
 themselves — equal social rights, and warmest Chris- 
 tian afFedlion, without first asking for uniformity. 
 In their belief, all healthy life protests against the 
 demand for ' uniformity. " Attempt to construct 
 some outward framework of uniformity for nature, 
 and the oaks and elms, the informal lilies of the 
 field and the fowls of the air, will breathe forth their 
 protest in beauty, and sound it in song." The life 
 of grace, like the life of nature, though million- 
 formed, is one, — and that power from without 
 which most succeeds in binding it into sameness of 
 aspect, will, in the end, only make it dwindle and 
 pine. We would rather seek for ourselves and for 
 all Christians greater vitality of faith in Christ, the 
 mediating principle by which alone man can be led 
 into the light of God, the combining fa6l, in virtue 
 of which alone all believers have a unity which 
 underlies all visible variety, and makes variety 
 
 beautiful. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 (?>S^ 
 
 No. I. — p. 79. 
 
 Letter from the Church at Taunton^ in America^ under the 
 pastoral care of the Rev. Mr. Emery, to the Rev. 
 Henry Addiscott, and the First Independent Church 
 at Taunton^ in England. 
 
 Taunton^ Mass., U.S., Feb., 1854. 
 
 Rev. and Beloved, — We are moved to address you, 
 by reason of our common origin, and our common Chris- 
 tian faith. Tour fathers were our fathers ; and the Deans, 
 the Reeds, the Blakes, the Attwoods, and the Halls, 
 from whom some of you sprung, have descendants in our 
 church and town, who would gladly become better 
 acquainted than they now are with those who claim a 
 common descent in the mother-country. Our ancestors 
 were led to remove hither, as you are well aware, for the 
 sake of planting a church in this western world. 
 
 The church which the first settlers of Taunton formed 
 in 1637 still lives, and adheres to the faith of the fathers 
 
39'^ 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 of New England — the faith which has so long distin- 
 guished all true saints. There are three colonies from the 
 original church, which are Calvinistic Congregational 
 churches ; and of these the church which we represent 
 is one — adopting the same confession of faith and cove- 
 nant in substance, desiring to perpetuate the great truths 
 gathered out of the Word of God, and embodied in the 
 Westminster Shorter Catechism. There are other 
 churches in town, which are generally regarded as evan- 
 gelical, a Calvinist Baptist, a Protestant Episcopal, two 
 Protestant Methodist, and a Presbyterian. There are 
 also several which are not so regarded, but which we will 
 not particularly name. The prevailing sentiment of the 
 town, which contains a population of some 1 2,000, is 
 what would be termed, with us, orthodox. We have a 
 desire to know how it is with you. Rev. Mr. Bingham, 
 the pastor of the Unitarian Society in Taunton, spent a 
 Sabbath with you some months since, and preached, as 
 we are informed, in one or more of your churches. From 
 his published letter, we learn that about half of your 
 people are Dissenters. We should like to know what are 
 the doSfrinal views of these Dissenting churches, and so 
 much of your ecclesiastical history as you maybe disposed 
 to give us. Our own history is put in a permanent form, 
 and is herewith transmitted to you. If you have docu- 
 ments of any kind, printed or otherwise, which would 
 make us better acquainted with you, we should prize 
 them highly. There is a history of your town by Toul- 
 min, of which we have heard, but not seen. Our church 
 has recently erefled a new place of worship, in a more 
 central part of the town, and dropping th,e original name, 
 which indicated the Street in which they worshipped 
 (Spring Street), have adopted the name of JVinslow.^ in 
 
APPENDIX. 293 
 
 memory of Edward Winslow, one of the pilgrims, the 
 third governor of Plymouth colony, and t\\c Jirst English- 
 man who ever touched Taunton soil. History warrants 
 us in believing he was an eminently good man, and that 
 his was a name worthy to be thus perpetuated in the 
 place. 
 
 Wishing you grace, mercy, and peace, we remain, 
 yours^ in the fellowship of the Gospel, and on behalf of 
 the Winslow church. 
 
 S. Hopkins Emery, Pastor. 
 
 Edgar H. Reed, 
 
 C. Wood, , ^ . 
 
 _-j. -T' Ti - Commtttee. 
 
 William T. Blake, ( 
 
 P. W. Dean, ) 
 
 No. II.— p. 378. 
 J List of Mr. Alleine's IVorks. 
 
 ™. , Date of original 
 
 Title. , ,. . " 
 
 publication. 
 
 1. Prayers for the Use of the People '' 
 
 2. Useful Questions, whereby a Christian may Some- 
 
 examine himself. P'olio sheet time be- 
 
 3. Dire6lions for Covenanting with God. / tween 
 
 Folio sheet i655and 
 
 4. Rules for the more Profitable Management I 1661. 
 
 of Family Worship. Folio sheet.... / 
 
394 APPENDIX. 
 
 •Y\x\z. ^^^^ of original 
 
 publication. 
 
 5. Theologia Philosophica : licensed in 1661 
 
 6. Call to Archippus. 4to 1664 
 
 7. Explanation of the Assembly's Shorter Cate- 
 
 chism, with a Letter to his Flock, and 
 
 Rules for daily Self-examination. i2mo... 1664 
 
 8. Synopsis ofthe Covenant ofGrace. Foliosheet. 1664 
 
 9. A Soliloquy : representing the Believer's 
 
 Triumph in God's Covenant, and the 
 various Conflicts and glorious Conquests 
 of Faith over Unbelief. First published 
 in Part III. ofthe Vindicine Pietatis 1665 
 
 10. Directions to the Ministers of Somersetshire 
 
 and Wiltshire for the Instructing of 
 Families, &c 1668 
 
 11. Letters full of Spiritual Instructions, tending 
 
 to the promoting of the power of Godli- 
 ness. Forty Letters ; afterwards increased 
 to Forty-five 1671 
 
 12. An Alarm to Unconverted Sinners: 8vo. 1671 
 
 One edition of this appeared under the 
 title, "The true way to Happiness," 1675 : 
 another under the title, " A Sure Guide 
 to Heaven," 1691. 
 
 Included in the first edition of the 
 '■' Alarm," were the three following 
 tradts, which had before been published 
 separately, without date : — 
 
 13. Counsel for Personal and Family Godliness. 167 1 
 
 14. Divers Practical Cases of Conscience, judi- 
 
 ciously solved 1671 
 
 15. Counsels and Cordials for the Converted ... 1671 
 
APPENDIX. 29 S 
 
 _. , Date of original 
 
 Title. LI- ^■ 
 
 publication. 
 
 1 6. The Remains of that excellent Minister of 
 
 Jesus Christ, Mr. Joseph Alleine, being 
 a Collection of Sundry Dire6tions, Ser- 
 mons, Sacrament Speeches, and Letters, 
 not heretofore published 1672 
 
 17. A Treatise called The Voice of the Herald 
 
 before the Great King. The Voice of 
 God speaking from Mount Gerizim. 
 The Voice of the Redeemed after the 
 Proclamation 1684 
 
 18. A Treasure of Gospel Promises, left i Unknown 
 
 in Legacy by Jesus Christ J date. 
 
 19. Promises for the Saints' Support in Times 1 Unknown 
 
 of Trouble and Persecution J date. 
 
 Treatise 17, 18, and 19, along with 
 the "Soliloquy" before named, were 
 afterwards published under the title of 
 the " Saint's Pocket Book." 
 
INDEX. 
 
 c?y|j^a:a 
 
 Addison (Lancelot) rides to Oxford University, 41. 
 
 Alan^ lord of Buckenhall, i. 
 
 Alletne (Mr. Edward), death of, 35. 
 
 Alle'ine (Joseph), birth of, 23 — his father's house, 24 — 
 scenes of his childhood, 25, 27, 30 — conversion, 34 
 — goes to school at Poulshot, 36 — is placed at Lin- 
 coln College, Oxford, 41 — witnesses the ceremony 
 of creating Oliver Cromwell do6tor of laws, 41 — 
 hears the letter read announcing Cromwell's accept- 
 ance of the chancellorship, 43 — is chosen scholar of 
 Corpus Christi, 51 — his studies, 56,57 — takes B. A. 
 degree, 58 — is appointed tutor, 59 — preaches to the 
 prisoners, 61 — visits Taunton, 65 — introduction to 
 Mr. Newton, 83 — his first series of sermons, 83 — 
 his invitation to become assistant minister, 86 — 
 appears before the Triers, 96 — is ordained, 97 — is 
 married, 99 — the " inconveniences" of his married 
 life, 100 — his reputation as a preacher, 135 — his 
 doctrines, 142 — labours as a catechist, 144 — helps 
 other congregations, 148 — takes part in the Somer- 
 setshire Association, 149 — personal aspect, 150 — 
 generosity, 151, 345 — writings, 153, 274 — list of 
 his writings, 393 — his scientific experiments, 
 
INDEX. 397 
 
 154 — devotional habits, 155 — his last course of 
 sermons in the church, 199 — his conduct on his 
 ejedlion, 205 — intends to go to China, 207 — is 
 seized by an officer, 210 — committed to the Bride- 
 well chamber, 214, 282 — sufferings, 215 — indicted 
 at the sessions, no bill is found, but he is still kept 
 in prison, 222, 285 — account of trial before Judge 
 Foster, 226 — preaches in the gaol, 249 — is threatened 
 with transportation, 277 — his remark upon these 
 threatenings, 280 — letters to his people, 281 to 294 — 
 is set free, 295 — renewed labours, 297 — illness, 297 
 — letter to a clergyman with two parsonages, 303 — to 
 a Dissenting minister in gaol, 303 — first visit to the 
 mineral waters, 307 — plans for mission-work in 
 Wales, 308 — his service of thanksgiving on the 
 passing of the Five-Mile A61, 316 — preaches a 
 Wellington, 321 — returns, and lodges at FuUands, 
 323 — takes part in an ordination service, 324 — festi- 
 val at Fullands, 327 — taken to prison again, 331 — 
 parting address to the prisoners, 332 — collecSls money 
 to relieve the London citizens after the fire, 345 — 
 second visit to the mineral waters, 346 — companions 
 there, 348 to 351 — his prayer for his flock, 
 352 — visits Dorchester, 355 — his charge to Taunton 
 visitors, 356 — goes to Bath, 361 — his labours there, 
 362 to 366 — alarms the re6lor, 367 — dies, 374 — 
 scene at his funeral, 374 — his writings, 153, 274, 
 377, 393 — estimate of his chara6ler, 378. 
 
 Alleine (Mistress Theodosia), Joseph's letter to her on 
 his offers of high preferment, 62 —on the Taunton 
 invitation, 86 — Wood's account of her, 100 — she 
 sets up a school, 10 1 — extratSls from her account of 
 Mr. Alleine, 189, 205, 209 to 214, 222, 280, 297, 
 362, 366 — her death, 380. 
 
 Jlleine (Mr. Tobie), his marriage, 2— his children, 2 — 
 takes tolls of the market, 3 — his neighbours, 4 — his 
 services to the town, 4 — his Puritanism, 5 — helps to 
 obtain ledurers, 14 — talks with Justice Kent, 15 — 
 
398 INDEX. 
 
 is made one of the Wiltshire deputies for the Triers, 
 
 19 — his message from Ilchester Gaol, 20 — his 
 
 poverty, 151 — his sudden death, 20, 352. 
 Alleine (Mr. Tobie, the younger), dete6ls, corrects, and 
 
 rejefts Diotrephes, 120. 
 Alleine (Mistress Marie) is delivered over unto Satan, 
 
 120. 
 Alleine (Richard), 86, 274. 
 AUibond on Oxford University, 42. 
 
 Anderdon (John, the Quaker), suffers with Alleine, 219. 
 Andover^ midnight worship at, 180. 
 Ash (Simeon), 31. 
 Assizes (the Black), 62. 
 Associations., western Baptist churches, 127 — western 
 
 ministers, 148. 
 Atkins (Robert), his sufferings, 325. 
 Aubrey (John), 3, 307. 
 i^<7// (William) at Taunton, 324. 
 Bampfield (Sir Coplestone) at Corpus Christi, 59. 
 Bampjield (Mr. Thomas), some account of his life, 225 
 
 — his legal services for Alleine, 226 — his opinion 
 
 touching riots, 239. 
 Bampfield {M.r. Francis), his death in Newgate, 225. 
 Baptists at Devizes, 20, 28 — at Taunton, 144, 194, 209 
 
 ■ — Baptist clergymen, 166 — Baptists persecuted in 
 
 New Taunton, 74 — the opinions of Baptist Puritans 
 
 on music, 127 — on dress, 128 — Baptists charged 
 
 with setting fire to London, 343. 
 Barnard (Joseph), 366, 371. 
 Barnes (Barnaby), his lines on " Content," 33. 
 Bartholomew Day., 1662 ; A6t of Uniformity then passed, 
 
 176 -effects at Taunton, 200, 203. 
 Bartlett (Widow), 355. 
 
 Barton (Major), his sermon in St. John's Church, 35. 
 Barton (William), his "Psalms," 127. 
 Bassett (Col. Francis), a Taunton Baptist, 194. 
 Bath., its appearance in 1662, 361 — the King's visit to 
 
 it, 270. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 399 
 
 Baxter (Richard), his opinion of the old clergy, 13 — 
 of the sequestered clergy, 184 — of Alleine's preach- 
 ing, 138 — of his life, iv. — of Thomas Bamp- 
 field, 225 — of Puritan preaching and its effects, 133 
 — of foreign missions, 207 — of heresies, 119 — his 
 theology, 142 — his verses on Bartholomew Day, 
 193, — his character, by Tilenus, 306. 
 
 Baynton (Sir Edward), 20. 
 
 Beau?nont (Dr.) on heresies, 119. 
 
 Bennett (Edward), a Trier, 96. 
 
 Bentley (R.), his lines on " Study," 57. 
 
 Blake (Humphrey), his sufferings for Nonconformity, 
 — goes to Carolina with his family, 359. 
 
 Blake (General Robert) at the siege of Taunton, 56 — 
 his connexion with Alleine, 102 — company at 
 his country-house, 131 — treatment of his remains, 
 
 193- 
 Boyle (Hon. Robert) takes shelter at Oxford, 50. 
 
 Bridgewater^f loi, 128, 209, 219 — meeting-house pulled 
 
 down by churchmen, 382. 
 Bruen (John), of Bruen Stapelford, Esquire, breaks church 
 
 windows, 115. 
 Buckingham (Duke of) slanders the Baptists, 344. 
 Bunyan^ quotations from, 28, 169, 248, 331. 
 Burnet (Bp.) on the Prayer-book, 172. 
 Butler (Samuel), his lines on university addresses, 59 — 
 
 on the Triers, 95 — lampoons Newton, 205. 
 Campbell (LordJ, his account of Foster, 233. 
 Caps and Hoods, Puritan objecSlions to them, 42, 47, iii. 
 Catechisms in America, 75 — Alleine's work as a cate- 
 
 chist, 144 to 147, 274. 
 Cavaliers^ 18, 113, 129. ► 
 
 Cere?nonieSj 8, 10, 17, 112. 
 C'^^n/yr^ (Richard), 181. 
 Charles II. yjoy-dt his restoration, 160 — his prayer, 163 — his 
 
 promise to the Nonconformists, 175 — his vindictive 
 
 spirit to the people of Taunton, 198 — his visit to 
 
 Bath, 270. 
 
400 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Churchei and places of worship, spoliation of, by mobs, 
 30 — by Puritans, 115 — by Royalists, 381. 
 
 Clarenceux king-at-arms, 5. 
 
 Clarendon (Lord), his remarks on Oxford Puritans, 51 — 
 his letter on the Nonconformists, 164. 
 
 Clergy holding livings in the time of Cromwell, 191. 
 
 Clock (Alleine's), 207. 
 
 Colonies^ account of the convi6ls in the, 278, 279 — Non- 
 conformists sentenced to serve there, 298. 
 
 Comprehension.^ Presbyterians desire it, 163 — church of 
 England protests against it, 174. 
 
 Conventicle A6t, 298. 
 
 Corporation A(St, 169, 198. 
 
 Corpus Christi, under the Puritans, 53 — Hooker's opinion 
 of it, 56— Jessey's opinion, 54. 
 
 Coven (Stephen), 249. 
 
 Coward (Dr.), 59. 
 
 Creed {Dr.)., his sermon, 167. 
 
 Cromwell (Oliver), 27, 41, 43, 45, 161. 
 
 JJavies (Sir John), 343. 
 
 Devizes^ greetings in the market-place, 3 — its old castle, 
 24 — siege of, 25 — demolition of walls, 28 — scene in 
 the church, 29 — Alleine's visits to, 307, 346. 
 
 DiotrepheSj ill. 
 
 Dod (Robert), 58. 
 
 Dorchester.^ Alleine's visit to, 355. 
 
 Dress., Puritan notions about it, 128, 129. 
 
 Edwards., 32, 118, 119. 
 
 Ely (Bp. of) on "a comprehensive church," 175. 
 
 Fa ire lough {Mr. Rich.), Alleine's friend at Bath, 363 10365. 
 
 Family worship, 129. 
 
 Farewell (Dame), a friend to Alleine, 103. 
 
 " Fathers in God," meaning of the phrase, 349. 
 
 Fjiower (Benjamui), his connexion with Alleme, 349 — 
 last service, 350. 
 
 Ffreme (Dame), 20. 
 
 E'ifth monarchy men, not Baptists, 196. 
 
 Five groans, 188. 
 
INDEX. 401 
 
 Fivc-mile A£l, 322. 
 
 Flavel (John), his lines on the turtle-dove, 65 — his 
 midnight preaching at Hudscot Hall, 18 r. 
 
 F.r^(Mr.), 347,351 . 
 
 Foster (Sir Robert), 196 — account of, 223 — trial of 
 
 Alleine, 229 — of Norman, 244— death, 245. 
 Fox (George), 17 — his opinions, 215. 
 Frayling (John), of Devizes, 351. 
 Fullands.^ 316, 324. 
 Fuller (Thomas), 33, 184. 
 Gangrana.^ quotation from, 32. 
 Gentleman., A.B. taiceth oath that he is not one, 5. 
 Glanvil {Mr. Joseph, re6lor of Bath), sees Alleine in the 
 
 church, and is nervous, 367 — why Mr. Howe will 
 
 not preach for him, 368. 
 Gloom., alleged, of the Puritans, 124,316, 
 Goodwin (John) on the Triers, 95. 
 Goodwin (Dr. Thomas), 47. 
 Gough (William), Baptist minister, 350. 
 //«//(Bp.), quotation from, 85. 
 Hall (John)., his ditty, 223. 
 Hats worn in churches, 113, 114, 204. 
 Jlenry (Matthew), his opinion on AUeine's letters, 282/ 
 Henry (Philip), his sayings, 133, 171 — measures the road, 
 
 322. 
 Herbert (George), 1 1, 281. 
 Holmes (Obadiah) whipped, 74. 
 Hood (Dr. Paul), 41. 
 Hook (Dr.), his opinion of Alleine, 93 — his apology for 
 
 the A61 of Uniformity, 182. 
 IJorsman (Dr.), 59. 
 Howe (Mr. John) at Bath, 363, 364. 
 Hungerford (Sir Edward), a Trier, 20. 
 Jlchester Gaol., accounts of, 214, 219, 221, 249, 273, 330. 
 Ince (Peter), anecdote of, 179. 
 Jessey (Henry) at Corpus Christi, 54 — at Taunton, 96 — 
 
 involved with Taunton people in charge of plotting, 
 
 196. 
 
 D D 
 
402 INDEX. 
 
 "Jewell (Bp.), state of his diocese, 9 — his opinion on 
 
 " idolls " in churches, 116. 
 'John's (St.) Church, 15, 22. 
 Ken (Bp.), Hnes by him, 135. 
 Kent (Master), 15. 
 Kennett (Bp.) ridicules Christian missions to the heathen, 
 
 208. 
 Kiffin in trouble, 195. 
 
 Ladies (RoyaHst), their scurrilous talk, 211. 
 Latimer (Bp.), his saying, no. 
 LeSiurers^ 14. 
 Letters of Alleine, 62, 86 — from prison, chapter xii. — 
 
 from Devizes, 347, 351. 
 Levellers^ 32, 41. 
 Lilly (Will.), his prophecy about Taunton, 67 — his notice 
 
 of Seend spring, 307. 
 Lincoln College^ ^l. 
 Lloyd (Sir Charles), 28. 
 London, the plague in, 309 — the fire, and colleftions for 
 
 the sufferers at Taunton, 343. 
 Loss (Dr.), a reverend physician, 355. 
 Mallack (John, gent.), AUeine's friend, 324. 
 Mile, how long is it ? 322. 
 Miller (Hugh), his definition of" schools," 23. 
 Ministers, their chara(Sler before the reign of Puritanism, 
 
 12, 13 — characSler of the sequestered ministers, 183, 
 
 184 — their restoration, 165 — number of ejected 
 
 ministers, 177 — Dr. Hook's account of them, 182 
 
 — examination of his statements, 182 to 187 — 
 
 chara6ler of the ministers vv^ho succeeded the ejected 
 
 Nonconformists, 188. 
 Missions — the Puritans originate home missions, 15 — 
 
 foreign missions, 207 — missions to Wales, 308. 
 Musariim Oxoniensiwn, EAAI0$0PIA, 60. 
 Names — the Puritans falsely charged with assuming 
 
 absurd names, 121. 
 Newton (Mr. George), minister of Taunton, his history, 
 
 69, 81 — his character, 82 — his kindness to Alleine, 
 
INDEX. 
 
 403 
 
 99 — his letter on Lady Farewell, 103 — his talk on 
 Fragosa, &c., 132 — farewell sermon, 199 — insulted 
 by the author of Hudibras, 205 — takes the Oxford 
 oath, 313 — his last days and death, 380, 381. 
 
 Nonconformists — their principles, 190 — how they were 
 learned, 388 — summary of their suft'erings in the 
 time of the Stuarts, 383 to 385. 
 
 Norman (John), account of, lOi — in prison, 214 — trial, 
 243 — speech to Lady Warre, 245 — the sermon he 
 preached from the gaol window, 255 — threatened with 
 transportation, 277 — last sufferings and death, 359. 
 
 Northie (Sir Edward), 2. 
 
 Norton (Roger), the honest printer, 275. 
 
 Oblivion, A (51 of, 167. 
 
 Organs^ Puritan opinions about them, 47, 113. 
 
 Owen (Dr. John), -^cccunt of him, 45 to 49. 
 
 Oxford^ siege of, 40. 
 
 Oxford University^ debauchery of the students before the 
 Puritan reforms, 46 — men and manners there, 54 to 56. 
 
 Paris (Matthew), 24. 
 
 P^ri^r (Archbishop), 113. 
 
 Parsons (Henry) in Ilchester Gaol, 250. 
 
 Peachell{pv.\S9- 
 
 Pepys, his meditation on periwigs, 312 — his pity for the 
 
 prisoners, 298 — how he treats Will Swan, 369. 
 Petty (Dr.) at Oxford, 50. 
 
 Phillips (Mr. Humphrey) in Ilchester Gaol, 249. 
 Plots, Puritans charged with contriving them, 175, 195. 
 Poetry amongst the Puritans, 123, 125, 127. 
 Polupiety, 1 18. 
 Poole (Mistress) leads a band of emigrants to New 
 
 Taunton, 71. 
 Pope (the), his bull, 18. 
 Popery, the Puritans fear its return, 8, 9. 
 Popish badges, 1 17. 
 
 Powell (Mr.), AUeine's fellow-prisoner, 249. 
 Powell (Vavasor), his labours in Wales, 308 — his name 
 
 associated with that of Alleine, 376. 
 
404 INDEX. 
 
 Pragmaticus, his pensive remark, 41. 
 
 Prayer^ Newton's last, in the church, 202 — AUeine's, for 
 Taunton, 353. 
 
 Prayers^ Puritan opinions as to forms, 1 11. 
 
 Prayer-book altered, 173. 
 
 Priests, who are they ? 1 1 1. 
 
 Prisons, their ancient state, 61. 
 
 Prophecies, 246. 
 
 Psalmody, 113. 
 
 " Pulpit (a), to let," 3 1 1. 
 
 Pupils (Mr. Alleine's) at Oxford, 59. 
 
 Puritans^ their distinctive principle, 6 — Puritan lay- 
 men, 7 — the errors which the Puritans sought to 
 overthrow, 9, 10, 1 1, 17 — calumnies against them, 
 12, 30, 50 — their " words and ways," chapter vi. — 
 their sufferings, 180 — the religion of the Puritans 
 defended from the charge of being formal, 385. 
 
 Quakers., their treatment at Oxford, 48, 55, 56 — at 
 Ilchester, 219 — at New Taunton, 74 — their treat- 
 ment of Alleine, 215, 220,247 — theirprinciples, 215, 
 218 — their numbers, 218 — their address to King 
 Charles, 273 — their persecution, 299. 
 
 Recreations^ Puritan laws respedting them, 124. 
 
 Rhodes (Rev. W.), his estimate of Alleine, 378. 
 
 Roads in old Somersetshire, 99. 
 
 Rosewell {Dr.\ ^(). 
 
 Rossiter, Elder, 281. 
 
 Sacheverell (Timothy) defies the troopers, 348. 
 
 Saints^ worship of, in Wiltshire, 9. 
 
 Saints' days, iii. 
 
 Sa?npson (Dr.), his note-book, 364, 366. 
 
 *' Saturn in Gemini " 67. 
 
 Savoy conference, 171. 
 
 Set^Sy testimonies as to their number and variety in the 
 commonwealth, 119. 
 
 Selden (John) on the old clergy, 13. 
 
 Sermon by one of Cromwell's soldiers, 31 — Newton's 
 missionary sermon, 176 — his farewell sermon, 200 — ■ 
 
INDEX. 405 
 
 Norman's sermon in gaol, 255 — AUeine's thanks- 
 giving sermon, 316 — second thanksgiving sermon, 
 — sermon to his fellow-prisoners, 332. 
 
 Sheets (folio) pasted on the vi^alls by Puritans, 131. 
 
 Sheldon — his part in the KSt of Uniformity, 171, 175 — 
 his charader, 172 — helps to forge the Five-Mile 
 Aa, 313. 
 
 Shepherd {M.zster) frightened out of the pulpit, 30. 
 
 Sherfield (Mr.) breaks the church vt^indow, 9. 
 
 Shovel.^ first American, 73. 
 
 Skinner (Harrison) shoots at the gaol w^indow, 253. 
 
 Soldiers., their disturbances in churches, 30 to 33. 
 
 South (Dr. Robert^, 63. 
 
 Spinage (Mr. William), Joseph AUeine's schoolmaster, 
 
 36, 38. 
 
 Staunton (Dr. Ed.), 51, 52, 53. 
 
 Stephen (Nathaniel), his story about a priest, 16. 
 
 Stephens (Dr. Philip), 16. 
 
 Stephens (Sir James), his opinions, 74, 208. 
 
 Stowel (Lord) pulls dow^n meeting-houses, 382. 
 
 Stuckley (Levels), 120, 133. 
 
 Taunton— Its ancient importance, 65 — the scenery around 
 it, 67— account of its siege, 66, 80 — emigration from 
 it to form a colony in America, 70 — collections made 
 for the colonists, 75 — Baptist church there, 127, 
 144 — joy of the people at the Restoration, 160 — 
 charge against them of plotting against the King, 194 
 — their sufferings from the Royahsts, 198 — informers 
 there, 247 — sufferings through the Conventicle A61, 
 299,331 — their chapel furniture burnt in the market- 
 place, 381. 
 
 Taunton (New^) founded, 73 — its prosperity, 73, 80 — 
 interest of the colonists in the old country, 75 — 
 letter from them to the ancestral church, 79, 391. 
 
 Taylor (Bishop), 36. 
 
 Tenison (Archbishop), 172. 
 
 Texts inscribed in Puritan houses, 123. 
 
 Thomas (William), one of the Triers, 96. 
 
406 INDEX. 
 
 Tomer (Mr. John), his thunder, 252 — his adventures, 253. 
 
 Transportation of Dissenters, 277 to 279, 298. 
 
 Trial at Taunton Castle, 223 to 247. 
 
 Triers in Wilts, 19 — in Somerset, 95, 96. 
 
 Trosse (George), his ordination at Taunton, 325. 
 
 Turner (CoXonQV), 113. 
 
 Tweagle (George), his examination at Alleine's trial, 
 
 238, 239 — the justices try to bribe him, 243. 
 Uniformity (A61 of), conferences before its adoption, 
 
 171 — its terms, 176, 199 — becomes law, 177 — 
 
 argument with its advocates, 181 to 189 — argument 
 
 with the sufferers from it, 189 to 192. 
 Uniformity (compulsory), 389, 390. 
 Vane (Sir Harry) on the province of the magistrate with 
 
 reference to religion, 388. 
 Vincent (Thomas), 310. 
 Wales^ a Puritan mission-field, 308. 
 Wales (Mr. Elkanah), his sufferings, 1 79. 
 Walker (Dr.), 39, 183. 
 Waller {^\x William), 25, 27. 
 Warre (Ladyj, her death predidted, 245. 
 Webbe (Thomas), extradls from his diary, 28, 349. 
 Wellington, Alleine preaches there, 321. 
 Wesley (John), labours with Alleine, 209. 
 Wesley (John), founder of Methodism — his opinion of 
 
 Alleine's letters, 282. 
 Willes (Mr. Tobias), Baptist minister, imprisoned with 
 
 Alleine, 250. 
 Winslow (Governor), 71. 
 Withers (George), 14, 310. 
 
 Tarrington (Captain), his account of pretended plots, 176. 
 Toung (Arthur), his account of Oxford, 46. 
 Zanchy (Prodor), 43. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 P. 32, note, for Gangroena, rMt/ Gangraena, 
 
 P. 60, line 17, insert Musarum before Oxoniensium. 
 
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