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FAEEWELL SUNDAY

Stfc Battjj0l0m^s Mkq.

TWO SERMONS

PREACHED AT THE KING'S WEIGH-HOUSE CHAPEL,
FISH STREET HILL,

On Svmday, the 17th, and Sunday, the 24th of August, 1862.

BY T. BINNEY.

LONDON:
JACKSON, WALFOED, AND HODDEJK,
18, ST. PAUL'S- CHtTRCHYARB.

PB1CE SIXPENCE.

1862.
BY T. BINNEY.

BY THE SAME ATJTHOE.

Fifth Edition, price 6d.,
CONSCIENTIOUS CLERICAL NONCONFORMITY.

Second Edition, price 6s. cloth,
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF CHURCH LIFE IN
AUSTRALIA ; including Thoughts on some Things at Home. To which is
added, " Two Hundred Years Ago : Then and Now."
" A recent correspondence between a colonial bishop — once a lecturer on
this foundation — and an eminent Nonconformist divine, is not without
promise for the future. It cannot be read without exciting admiration for
both. It breathes throughout a manly, healthy, genial tone. It indicates
that the spirit in which Churchmen and Separatists strove together in the
Hampton Court and 'Savoy Conferences has undergone a change." — Arch
deacon Sandford's Hampton Lectures, preached before the University of Oxford
in 1861.
*»* To this Edition a Postscript is added, containing a Paper on an
article by the Bev. F. D. Maubioe, with a Letter from Mr. M. in reply.
The question raised is, whether, according to the "hypothesis" of the
Prayer-book, a child, as such, and before baptism, is contemplated, by it, as a
ohildofGod?

FAREWELL SUNDAY

Saint Bartf^tomsfo's ©a^

TWO SERMONS

PREACHED AT THE KING'S WEIGH-HOUSE CHAPEL,
FISH STREET HILL,

On Sunday, the 1747s., and Sunday, the 2&th of August, 1862.

BY T. BINNEY.

LONDON:
JACKSON, WALFOED AND HODDEE,
18, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.

GEORGE ONWIN, GRESHAM STEAM PRESS, BtJCKLERSBDRY, EC.

FAREWELL SUNDAY.

" He, being dead, yet speaketh." — Hebrews ii. 4.
You are all aware that, for many months past, a great
deal has been heard, from both speakers and writers,
about a Bicentenary commemoration of the English
Nonconformists of 1662. There happen to exist at this
day, in all parts of Britain, a large number of ministers
and churches who are also Nonconformists, and who
base their nonconformity on some of the very same
grounds which were taken by those who became such two
hundred years ago. Many of them may have other
reasons^-reasons additional to those on which the men
of 1662 acted, — but all have those on which they did act,
or most of them. All hold, approve, and adhere to the
more important and serious of those religious and moral
considerations, which led the seceders to resolve and to
act as they did. That is to say, there are those, in
England, at this day, who now stand, ecclesiastically, on
the very same ground to which others in a former age
had to retire ; and who occupy that, and feel bound to
do so, for the very same reasons which obliged those
others to occupy it at first. It really does not seem a
very unnatural thing, that, at so peculiar a period as the
200th anniversary of the act of secession, the one set of

4 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
men, thinking as they do, should propose to commemo
rate what the other did. Their intention to do so, how
ever, has been condemned and stigmatised in every
possible way. Because the ejected ministers held
certain views, which many modern Dissenters do not
hold, the right of the latter to claim any relation to them
has been scouted and denied, — though they do agree
with them in those special points which made them what they
were, and agree with them in a way which no other men
doj — that is, by being Nonconformists. Some things
may possibly have been said, here and there, by Bicen
tenary Lecturers, not very wise, or not very charitable ;
but the objection was taken before anything was said at
all ! — taken to the mere intention of commemorating the
dead, as if that, in itself, was an insult to the living !
Why, if any set of men, anywhere, or at any time, do
what is confessed to be right and praiseworthy, and do
it from their adherence to certain opinions, — what other
men can so appropriately commemorate the act, as those
who hold the opinions that led to it ? Supposing that
there should be other opinions, in which there is differ
ence between the two and not agreement, what then? In
the first place, you can recognise that in which you do
agree, and that is all that is required. In the second
place, it is not necessary for you to agree with others at
all in what induced a certain act ; — it is quite enough, to
justify your admiration, that the act itself is noble,
heroic, self-sacrificing. You can see that, — acknowledge, '
appreciate, praise it, even though you should have no
sympathy with the convictions or sentiments from which
it sprang.

FAEEWELL SUNDAY. 0
If, then, the act of the Nonconformists of 1662, was
in itself entitled to admiration, — if it was intrinsically
virtuous and praiseworthy, — it might be commemorated
as such, even by those who thought them mistaken.
The world is poor enough in really great and heroic deeds,
to make anything welcome, by whomsoever, performed,
that may be worthy of remembrance. Even if there
were nothing to connect us, therefore, with the men of
the past, we might be discharging a debt to them, and
contributing something to public virtue, by recalling and
celebrating their conscientiousness and consistency.
As to ourselves — to those of us who constitute this con
gregation — whatever it may behove others to say, we
need make no apology for referring to the year 1662,
and claiming kindred with the men who then retired
from the National Establishment. One of these men
gathered around him some of the members of his old
flock, met with them in private, formed them into a
society, continued in this way their Christian fellowship
and sacramental communion, and so laid the foundation
of that church which now worships within these walls.
It has existed ever since. It has had its vicissitudes, its
various fortunes, its growth and decline, its waning and
revival, its enlarged activities, its modification, doubtless,
of sentiment and opinion ; but still, here it is, the same
church that was founded two hundred years ago, by that
ejected parish priest who was its first pastor ; the same
in lineal ecclesiastical descent, the same substantially in
its Evangelical belief, its method of worship, and its
administration of Christ's institutions and ordinances.
We need say no more to justify our Bicentenary Comme-

6 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
moration. Nor will many words be required satisfactorily
to explain our referring to the subject this morning.
The Act of Uniformity received the Boyal Assent on the
19th of May, 1662. It required of every one who would
continue in the ministry of the Establishment, that,
some time before the 24th day of August following, he
should give and declare his " assent and consent " to all
and every thing in the Book of Common Prayer, as
revised by Convocation, and accepted by Parliament.
But in 1662, the 24th of August fell on a Sunday, just
as it does this year, the preceding Sunday, therefore, the
17th of the month, answering to this very day, was the last
Sunday on which any of the clergy who were unable to
conform could address their flocks. Hence, on the 17th
it was, and not on the 24th, that most of those who
remained in their livings till August, preached their fare
well sermons, and closed, in one sense, their public
ministry. On that day, the aged and venerable man to
whose pastoral relation to this church I have just
referred, preached to his old congregation for the last
time. On that day numbers of others, throughout the
metropolis, and in the country at large, did the same.
The discourses of some of them were preserved and
published. I purpose this morning, as the most appro
priate mode of commemorating both the time and the
men, to refer to what was taking place, especially in
London, this day, two hundred years ago, and to the
spirit and demeanour of those who, on that trying
occasion, were the observed of all observers.

FAREWELL SUNDAY.

In the year of grace, then, 1662, an Act passed the
Legislature in May, the operation of which, in August,
silenced hundreds of godly ministers, depriving them at
one stroke both of flock and fleece, — for they lost the
stipend, which would have been due to them in a few
days, as well as the office they had hitherto held.
Between May and August great was the conflict,
in many minds and in many homes, to discover the path
of duty — for there were many cases in which it might
admit of a question, while in all there was the alter
native to be confronted of the retention of position or
the loss of all things. It is easy to say, that where the
voice of conscience plainly forbade conformity, the case
was clear, — the sacrifice must be accepted without hesi
tation. We quite admit that there are cases, where,
since to do wrong would be utterly infamous, to do right
is no great virtue. To this point, indeed, it was sought
to bring the Puritan ministers, as is indicated by the
saying of Sheldon,- — ¦" Now that we know their mind, we
will make them all knaves if they conform." How many
such knaves there were, it is impossible to say ; but that
there might be such, and that there were such, seems
evident from this, that when one remarked, " I am afraid
the terms are so hard that many of the ministers will
not comply," Sheldon said, "I am afraid they will;"
and on another occasion when the sentiment was ex
pressed, that "it was lamentable the door was so
strait," he replied, "it is to be lamented that the door
is not straiter; if we had thought so many would

8 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
have conformed we should have made it straiter." It
is not with this class, however, that we have to do this
morning, but with those who were earnestly devoted to
the work of the ministry, and who felt — as zealous and
spiritual men only can feel — the trial it would be to
have to relinquish that. Some of them had for many
years been settled over their people. The church and
parsonage were connected with sacred associations and
pleasant memories. There were none now living who
could profess to have a prior claim to or interest in
these. The men themselves were recognized by the
restored authorities as entitled to remain where they
were, no one having power to suspend their function, or
to supersede them, or to exclude them from their pos
sessions, if they complied with the terms which were to
be proposed to them. Between the passing of the Act,
therefore, and its coming into force, it was not only
natural, but it was right,— it was due to themselves,
their flocks and their families, — they owed it to their
Master, and to their office, — to examine the conditions on
which the "continuance of their ministry depended, and
to see to it whether it were possible for them to continue
it ; — a question, mind, on which hung not only their
retention of a spiritual function and a sphere of useful
ness, but of honourable position and secular support.
It was a testing time. Where there was an earnest love
for the Lord's work, and a conscientious desire to accept
any reasonable terms of comprehension, it is easy to
understand that there might be prolonged perplexity,
and great and severe searchings of heart, before the
final resolution was adopted. The case was one, it is of

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 9
course admitted, on which conscience and principle had
to pronounce. But we all know that both principle and
conscience may sometimes be embarrassed, even in the
best of men, by the thought of wife and children, and
penury and imprisonment, and social degradation, and
the loss or relinquishment of a sphere of usefulness.
The same thing had been experienced before by many
in the episcopal ministry, when other forms of govern
ment and law had embarrassed their position and op
pressed their consciences. All honour to them, we say.
Our sympathies extend to every true man, of every
church, and in all times. We should have no objection
to commemorate the sufferings and eulogize the heroism
of those who were oppressed by the doings of the Com
monwealth, as well as of those who were crushed by the
Bestoration. Our business, at present, however, is with
the latter. And, first of all, we invite you to listen for a
moment to some of the deep groanings and utterances of
the heart, which went up to God between May and
August, two hundred years ago.
Among the ejaculations of Philip Henry we find
such expressions as these : — " The Lord keep me in
this critical time." "Lord, lead me not into temp
tation." Philip Henry was a man of learning and
piety; not rash, not intemperate; one who weighed
well, as in God's sight, what he might be brought to
consent to, and what it might become him to do. He
spent days of fasting and prayer, that -he might obtain
divine direction. Besides much careful reading and
earnest thought, he conferred at Oxford with Fell, and
at Chester with the Dean. They cautioned him against

10 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
losing preferment and would fain have secured his con
formity ; on which he says, in his private papers, " God
grant I may never be left to consult with flesh and blood
in such matters." Some plied him with an appeal to
his modesty, — " You are a young man, and do you think
yourself wiser than the king and the bishops ? " Such
advisers could not help him. His reason and conscience
alike felt them to be miserable counsellors. On a full,
deliberate, and devotional review of the whole case, he
saw no alternative before him but dissent. He would
rather it had been otherwise. He had no particular
partiality for the gloomy prospect, in itself considered,^
which he had to accept. " On the whole," however, his
son remarks, " he thought it a mercy that the case of
Nonconformity was made so clear as abundantly to
satisfy him in his silence and sufferings."
One good man's mother pressed him to conform,, and
remain in his living. " Mother," he replied, "if I want
bread, you can help me : if I have a guilty conscience, you
cannot." Another, who had a wife and ten children-r-
eleven strong arguments, as some thought, for conforming,
to the force and pungency of which he did not himself pro
fess to be insensible — when his neighbours put it to him,
" How he would maintain his family, if he seceded?" he
replied, " They must live on Matthew the 6th and 25th —
' Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or
what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body, what ye
shall put on.' " Another said, "God feeds the ravens, He
will feed my children." And another, "Should I have
as many children as that hen has chickens (pointing to
one with a numerous brood) I shall not question but

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 11
God will provide for them." Amongst the papers of the
Vicar of Brampton, Oxfordshire, one is found called " a
humble address to my Lord, July 30, 1662," in which
these and such like passages occur: — "I do not beg for
riches, honours, great places, or a pleasant life, for my
self or mine. I beg thy grace in Christ, that we may
be kept from becoming a scandal to religion; " — "As for
my provision, my God, I never had any considerable
estate, and yet I never wanted. I depend on thy pro
mise, and have reason to trust thee. O God, I beg thy
direction in this great business, and beseech thee to
show me what is fully pleasing to thee, and assist me to
do it, for my Lord Jesus's sake, my Saviour and blessed
Bedeemer, Amen.'' The rector of Great Bolas, in
Shropshire, has thus recorded the result of his
thoughts : — "I solemnly profess, in the presence of the
great God, before whom I must shortly give an account
of my words and actions, that, in my most impartial
judgment, after all the light that I can get by reading,
praying, thinking, and discoursing with above twenty
judicious and solid divines of both persuasions, I look
upon it that my duty is not to conform ; and, whatever
becomes either of myself or family, as I cannol force my
judgment, so I will not dare to force my conscience."
But perhaps one of the most graphic representations
of the mental struggles which went on in the minds Of
many good men, between May and August in 1662, is
contained in the written soliloquy of the rector of Car-
sington, Derbyshire, when debating with himself whether
he could conform, and urging upon himself some of the
considerations which ought to weigh1 with him, as a

12 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
spiritual man, and which might possibly induce his con
tinuance in the church, Bemember, " 0 my soul, it is
not a light matter that thou art now employed in ; it is
not the maintenance of family, wife, children, that are
the main things in this inquiry ; it is the glory of God,
the credit and advantage of religion, the good of the
flock committed to thy keeping, thy ministry, thy con
science, thy salvation, and the salvation of others, that
must cast the scale and determine thy resolution. I
charge thee, 0 my soul, to lay aside all prejudices, pre-
- possessions, and respects to, or sinister conceptions of,
men of the one or the other party. Let the word of
God be umpire. Lead me, 0 Lord, by thy counsel;
make thy way plain before me. Lord, show me thy
way, and, through grace, I will say, it shall be my way.
Canst thou, 0 my soul, think of laying down thy ministry
upon a light occasion ? Take heed, lest, if like Jonah
thou overrunnest thy embasy through discontent, thou
be fetched back with a storm. If men be Pharaoh's
task-masters, and impose such burdens as thou mayest
even groan under, if they be only burdens and not
sins, they must be borne and not shaken off." In this
way, on his knees, and before God, does this good man
put before himself the great practical question that was
then waiting for decision, evidently trying to clear his
soul of all sorts of bias and partiality; and, looking
steadily at both sides, rather, perhaps, dwelling — with
something like a secret desire to feel their force — on such
reasons as might induce his conformity. The balance,
however, ultimately settled the other way. Something
similar to this, we have in the case of Joseph Alleine.

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 13
His wife writes : — " Before the act, 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 [as he had] of saving souls,
with any [doubt or] scruple on his spirit. He seemed
so moderate, that both himself and others thought he
would have conformed. He often said that he would
not leave his work for small and dubious matters.
When, however, he saw the requirement of assent and
consent, he was fully satisfied." From these instances
we may see with what fasting and prayer, strong crying
and tears, solicitude to be, and to do right, and fear of
sinning by precipitately adopting one side or the other,
many ministers passed that interval between May and
August to which we are referring. The words we have
quoted — which show us what passed in the secret cham
bers of the soul, and which reveal to us the pleadings of
the men with themselves and God — "these words,"
as a living clergyman remarks, "are not the words of
factious, peevish, humorsome men, who rushed, lightly
and unadvisedly, into damnable schism ; " — that being the
charitable estimate of their character with which some
have favoured us !

II.
We pass on now to that memorable Sunday, of which
the present is the 200th anniversary. The 17th of
August, 1662, stands out, in the annals of England, in
an aspect altogether its own. The land had witnessed
many changes in its ecclesiastical systems, by which, at

14 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
different times, many of its ministers had been pre
cluded from continuing the exercise of their function.
But there never had been a time, that I remember,
when, on a particular day — a day that could be antici
pated for some time previously — it was to be seen who
could, and who could not, remain in, or conform to, the
Church of England; when a new test was to be submitted
to or refused, which should publicly reveal who could
continue and who must secede. The law had decided
that the 24th of August should limit the period within
which conformity should be declared. To all, therefore,
who could not conform, Sunday, the 17th, was the last
on which they could be allowed to address their flocks.
On that day, in every part of London, and in all the
several counties of the kingdom, ministers were engaged
in taking leave of their people by preaching farewell
sermons. It would be easy to imagine what scenes might
be transpiring in many a country village, and in many
town and city parishes, as the day dawned which was to
seal the lips of their ministers for ever, and as the hours
advanced till the one came that saw his last look, and
heard the echo of his last words, in the sacred edifice he ¦
was to approach no more ! Instead of this, however, I
propose to acquaint you with some of the things which
these men actually said on this memorable 17th of August,
which will evince and illustrate what sort of spirit they
were of. I shall close at once my quotations and my
discourse, by referring to the last words of the venerable
father of this church.
From a curious book, " The Diary and Correspondence
of Samuel Pepys, Secretary to the Admiralty in the

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 15
reigns of Charles II. and James II," I make the follow
ing extract from an entry of his under date " 17th of
August, 1662." " This being the last Sunday that the
Presbyterians are to preach, unless they read the new
Common Prayer, I had a mind to hear Dr. Bates's fare
well sermon, and walked to St. Dunstan's. At eight
o'clock I crowded in at a back door, among others —
the church being half-full almost before any doors were
opened publicly. I got into the gallery beside the
pulpit, and heard very well. His text was ' Now the
God of peace,' &c, from the last of Hebrews, and 20th
verse ; he making a very good sermon, and very little
reflections in it to any thing of the times. — After dinner
to St. Dunstan's again ; the church quite crowded before
I come, which was just at one o'clock. Dr. Bates
pursued his text again very well ; and only at the conclu
sion told us after this manner :'' — " I know you expect I
should say something as to my nonconformity. I shall
only say this much ; — it is neither fancy, faction, nor
humour, that makes me not to comply, but merely for
fear of offending God. And if, after the best means
used for my illumination, — as prayer to God, discourse,
study, — I am not able to be satisfied concerning the
lawfulness of what is required ; if it be my unhappiness
to be in error, surely men will have no reason to be
angry with me in this world, and I hope God will
pardon me in the next."* This is a fair specimen of the
way in which the Puritan clergy conducted themselves in
• I take this quotation from the printed sermon. It is precisely
the same in substance, though a little different in phraseology, to what
is given by Pepys from memory. B

16 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
taking leave of their flocks. Their sermons were entirely
taken, up with the exposition of some great truth, and
the inculcation of practical duties, and only a very few
words at the close touched on their personal cirbum-
stances. Those words, again, were invariably mild and
gentle, — if we may judge from the specimens that have
come down to us. There was no resentment, inveotM,'
attack, denunciation. The men were either perfectly
silent — for some seem to have made no reference to the
times at all — or they contented themselves withafew
brief utterances touching their convictions in relation to
their duty ; or, in relation to the people, of their loYe
and sorrow. From an old volume containing a collection
of some of these farewell sermons, I will extract a few
passages of the sort referred to, in further illustration of
what I have advanced.
You have heard what Dr. Bates said, at St. Dunstan's,
Fleet Street. At Aldermanbury, Mr. Calamy contented
himself with reminding the people that he had been with
them about a quarter of a century, and had been preceded
by two eminent and earnest men who had each served
an apprenticeship ; and, on these grounds, he pleaded
with the people in respect to their acceptance of the
Gospel, and the improvement of privileges ; and thus,
only obliquely hinting at their approaching separation from
each other, he left them under the influence of a personal
and practical appeal to the conscience. Dr. Jacomb, at
St. Martin's, Ludgate, after preaching from the text,
John viii. 29, " He thai sent me is with me ; the Father hat
not left me alone ; for 1 do always those things that pleast
Him;" thus closes his discourse: — "Fourthly; is this

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 17
pleasing of God a duty of so great importance and benefit?
then be tender and charitable in judging of those that do
differ from you and others upon this account — because
they dare not displease God. — I may, in this caution, aim
at myself and others of my brethren in the Work of
our ministry. . . . Let me require this of you, to
pass a charitable interpretation upon our laying down
the exercise of our ministry: there is a greater Judge
than you, must judge us all at the great day ; and to
this Judge we can appeal before angels and men, that it
is not this thing, or that thing, that puts us upon this
dissent, but it is conscience towards God, and fear of
offending Him. I censure none that differ from me, as
though they displease God : but yet, as to myself, should
I do thus and thus, I should certainly violate the peace
of my own conscience, and offend God, which I must not
do, no, not to secure my ministry, though that either is,
or ought to be, dearer to me than my very life ; and how
dear it is, God only knoweth. Do not add affliction to
affliction, be not uncharitable in judging of iis, as if
through pride, faction, obstinacy, or devotedness to a
party, or, which is worse than all, in opposition to
authority, we do dissent ; the Judge of all hearts knows
it is not so : but it is. merely from those apprehensions
which, after prayer, and the use of all means, do yet
Continue ; that doing thus and thus we should displease
God : therefore, deal Charitably with us, in this day of
our affliction : If we be mistaken, I pray God to convince
us : if others be mistaken, whether in a public or private
capacity, I pray God in mercy convince them : but how^
ever things go, God will make good this truth to us ; in
b2

18 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
this work He will not leave us, and our Father will
not leave us alone; for it is the unfeigned desire of our
souls in all things to please God."
At Allhallows, Lombard Street, Mr. Lye, having given
out his text, proceeded to introduce it in this way : — " I
do very well remember, that upon the 24th of this instant
month, in the year 1651, 1 was then under the sentence
of banishment : and that very day did I preach my. fare
well sermon to my people, from whom I was banished
because I would not sware against my king, having
sworn to maintain his just power and honour and great
ness. And now behold a second trial ! Then I could not
forsware myself; the God of heaven keep me that I
never may ! I am apt to think that I could do anything
for this loving congregation ; only, I cannot sin. But
since there is a sentence gone but against us, that we
that cannot subscribe must not subsist ; this is the last day
that is permitted to us to preach. I shall now speak to
you (God assisting me), if my feelings will give me leave,
just as I would speak if I were immediately to die ; —
' therefore ' hearken ' my brethren, dearly beloved and
longed for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord,
my dearly beloved.' " That was his text, and on that he
dilated, both morning and .afternoon, with hardly another
allusion to himself.
In Mr. Collins' farewell sermon, I find the only
enumeration of particulars, which may be supposed to
bear on what might be suggested as inducements to
conformity. He does not mention them as such, nor
does he make any direct reference to himself, but I
suppose that the allusion I have referred to underlies his

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 19
temarks. The topics he illustrates are the following : —
That Christians may be led to do wrong from motives like
these : — " First, from things being represented as
indifferent, — as matters of no moment. Second : from
the idea that a man may comply with things without
danger, if he considers that he bears them as his
burdens. Third : that he may be satisfied, by following,
in some things, the opinions of wise, good and holy meD.
That he may do as they do. And, fourthly : that Chris
tians usually do no good by standing out." Which he
meets by saying, " whether we get good, or do good, or
not, — we are to do our duty.'' This is the only instance
in which I have found such a strain of argument pursued.
The wonder is, that it was not more frequently indulged
in. It was very natural and appropriate at the time ;
even in the present day, and in relation to the same
subject, there are some who might find it very salutary
to weigh well our old preacher's earnest and weighty
words.* I shall close these quotations by the following, from a
* " Cases often occur in which we must do as other men do, and act
upon a general understanding, even though unable to reconcile a par
ticular practice to the letter of truthfulness, or even to our individual
. conscience. . . . Numberless questions relating to the professions of
an advocate, a soldier, or a clergyman, have been pursued into endless
consequenees. In all these cases there is a point at which necessity
comes in, and compels us to adopt the rule of the apostle, which may
be paraphrased, ' do as other men do in a Christian country.' " — Peo-
pessok Jowett, Oxford.
Admitting that there is some truth in this statement, it is obvious to
remark that the " point " referred to will have to be determined by each
man for himself, according to his regard for " the letter of truthful
ness," and the claims and suggestions of his " individual conscience."
It was on this principle that the Nonconformists had to act in 1662.

20 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
sermon delivered at Weymouth, by Mr. Thorne, which
will show how ministers in the country felt and spoke in
the same humble and moderate spirit as those in the
metropolis. " And here, beloved, I shall take occasion
to open my heart sincerely to you. You know what is
required of me if I will continue a publick minister, in
this kingdom : I hope no sober persons can think me
such a humorous, perverse Phanatick as to throw away
my maintenance, mueh less my ministerial capacity
(which is much more dear to me than livelihood, yea,
than life), out of a proud humor and vain-glorious fancy.
In brief, therefore, as I shall answer it before the greaft
God, the searcher of our hearts, and the righteous Judge,
did not conscience towards God forbid me, I would
willingly and readily do all that the Act requires. But
seeing I cannot declare an unfeigned assent and consent,
as the law requires : as, from the fear of my God I dare
not ; so from the love you generally have to me, I know
you would not have me dissemble with God and men. I do
therefore humbly choose to submit to the penalty, rather
than by a hypocritical conformity (for such it must be in
me, if any) to dishonor my God, wound my own con
science, and dissemble with men ; knowing assuredly
that my God hath no need of my sin ; and if He have any
work for me in the public ministry, He will incline the
King's heart to grant liberty and encouragement therein
to me, with the rest of those who desire to be faithful in
preaching of the Gospel; which, that the Lord will grant,
I promise myself the help of all your prayers, who have
been favoured with any spiritual blessings through my
ministry."

FAREWELL SUNDAY. 21

III.

, I now proceed to conclude this discourse, by a brief
reference to the first pastor of this church.
Some time in the reign of James the First, about, or
soon after, 1620, the year in which the Mayflower sailed
with the Pilgrim Fathers, a young clergyman came to
London. He had been educated at Cambridge, and for
some time had officiated in the country. From the cir
cumstance of his entering the ministry when he did, he
was, no doubt, Episcopally ordained. In London he
became the minister of the Collegiate Chapel of St.
Katherine in the Tower. It is recorded of him, that in
the year 1625, when the city was visited with the plague,
and when many fled from it, he continued at his post,
and endeavoured, by his kind offices, to alleviate the
miseries of the suffering inhabitants. It appears, as we
shall learn from his own words, that he held his appoint
ment at St. Katherine-'s for nearly forty years. A won
derful forty years they were, including, as they must
have done, the closing part of the reign of James I., the
whole of that of Charles I., the Long Parliament, the
Westminster Assembly, the civil war, the period of the
Commonwealth, the accession of Charles II., and two
years under the restored monarchy! During all the
political and ecclesiastical changes of this extraordinary
time, the minister of St. Katherine's retained his ap
pointment. I infer from this that he was a quiet,
unobtrusive man; or that his original views on Church
government became modified by Presbyterianism — in
either case, that he was able to accept and use the forms

22 ¦ FAREWELL SUNDAY.
of worship prescribed by the Directory. He might pos
sibly have taken the Covenant (as the King himself did
more than once), in which case — .although like many
others he might have had a preference for Episcopacy
and the Liturgy, which was repressed only, not extin
guished, by the troublous times — it would be out of his
power to accept the terms of the Act of Uniformity.
But, however this might be, we know, that in 1662, on
the approach of St. Bartholomew's Day, Samuel Slatee.
(for that was his name) had purposed with himself to
leave a pulpit and a people that had been his for forty
years ! He was an old man. From his having first
ministered in a country parish for a considerable time,
he could not be far short of, most likely he was above*
seventy. In the prospect of secession he preached a
farewell sermon from the words, " Little children, keep
yourselves from idols." It is a plain, serious, evan
gelical discourse, expository alike of truth and duty*
Like other sermons of the same class, it is free from all
personal allusions till just before the close. The good
man then notices his own position, and makes a practical
appeal to his hearers in the following words — the under
tone of which reminds one of the Apostle John in his
old age, some of whose words, as if by spiritual sym
pathy, were, as we have heard, selected by Mr. Slater
for his own last sermon : —
" And now yet one word more. I would not occasion
any discomposure of spirit that is not becoming you, but
this I must say, for aught I know you have the words
of a dying man, and we used to say that the words of
dying men are apt to make a somewhat deep impression^

FAREWELL SUNDAY'. 23
I mean a dying man, not, in properness of speech accord
ing to nature, though, if it should be so, I hope there
would be cause of rejoicing on my part ; but I speak the
words of a dying man in respect to the ministerial office.
" I suppose you all know there is an Act come forth
by supreme authority, and it is not for us to quarrel at
all with it, but to submit to it, and hold correspondency
with it, so far as we can, with a good conscience ; but
there being many injunctions in it that many besides
myself cannot comply with, therefore we are willing to
submit to the penalty inflicted.
"This I say, you have for many years had the benefit
of my poor labours; I have fulfilled near up towards
forty years ; I have performed my service to God, Christ,
and His people, and, I bless His name, not without
acceptance and success. My work, so far as I know, is
now at end. My desire is, that you whose hearts have
been inclined to wait upon God in the way of my
ministry, may be faithful to God ; and that you may have
the blessing of the everlasting covenant coming upon
your souls ; and that you may have the power of the
doctrine, held forth in this sermon, put forth on your
hearts, that, as you profess these things, you may carry
it suitably to your profession ; that you may walk in love
to God, love to Christ, and love to one another; that
you may labour to manifest a noble generous spirit in
overcoming the world as to errors, corruptions, false
doctrine, and unwarrantable worship ; that you may in
all things labour to approve yourselves unto God, and,
'little children, keep yourselves from idols.'"
" Being dead, he yet speaketh." He speaks to us by hi^

24 FAREWELL SUNDAY.
faith, his conscientiousness, and integrity; by all the
principles embodied in his conduct, and even by his
words which have just been read. Little did he imagine,
on the day when these words were uttered, that on its
return iwo hundred years after they would be uttered
again — heard by a larger audience, and listened to as
the words of one ecclesiastically related to themselves !
"Being dead, he yet speaketh;" he speaks to the world,
through the existence of this church of which he was
the founder, and by that line of ministers of which he
was the first. The torch of truth, held by him, I am
quite sure, in the hand of love, has come down, trans
ferred from one to another of his successors, to the pre*
sent day. Whether or not the flame may be as pure
and bright now as it ever was, I will not say ; but this
I will say, that it is held by a hand large and loving,
ready to be extended, in frank brotherhood, to every
true and earnest Christian man. In spite of diversities
of creed and discipline — in spite of exclusiveness on one
side or another — in spite of legalised prescription or
sectarian traditions — in spite of anger, bitterness, con
troversy, contempt — in spite of Bicentenary misappre*
hensions, platform disputes, and Birmingham estrange
ments — we will hold to the culture of Catholic sentiment
— we will go forth in our sympathies to every member
of " God's holy Church throughout all the world," and
will say daily, in prayer and benediction, " Grace be
WITH ALL THEM THAT LOVE OUR LORD JeSUS CHRIST IN
sincerity;" "they that walk according to this rule,"
whatsoever else they neglect or observe, " grace be on
SEHEM, AND MER0Y, AND ON THE ISRAEL OF GOD."

Smd §ar%l0m*fo's gag.

SAINT BARTHOLOMEW'S DAY.

" Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind." " For whatso
ever is not of faith is sin." — Rom. xiv., parts of 5th and 23d verses.
Having, last Sunday, directed your attention to the
circumstance that, on that day two hundred years ago, a
number of ministers addressed their flocks for the last
time, having resolved to retire from, or not to conform
to, the National Establishment, it may not be amiss this
morning — the anniversary of the day on which their
pulpits were vacant — their voices hushed — their people,
in most cases, like sheep without a shepherd — to
consider the significancy of that fact. It stands out in
the annals of England as marking a crisis in the religious
and political development of things, and it may be found
to be an inquiry more than curious to look a little into
what it was, — what it indicated, — what preceded, and
what followed it.
In contemplating the prosecution of such an inquiry,
we are met, at the outset, with two or three rather
formidable difficulties. In the first place, the inquiry
itself is felt to be out of keeping with our Sabbath
solemnities, and with our customary subjects of Sabbath

28 saint Bartholomew's day. *
meditation. In the second place, it is utterly impossible
to do it justice in a single discourse ; and we certainly
do not intend to devote to it a second. In the third
place, it is difficult to make it interesting — or even,
perhaps, intelligible and clear — to great numbers in any
popular assembly, from their not having previously
attended to the subject. Knowledge of facts, and sym
pathy with sentiment, are often indispensable to our
rightly understanding action and character, or entering
with interest into what may be said of them. In the
last place, discuss the subject in what method or in what
spirit we may, we shall be sure to be misconceived by
somebody; — our motives and design in selecting it, will
be mistaken or misrepresented ; — as our very right to
refer to, or to mention even, the men of 1662 in con
nexion with ourselves, has been insultingly denied.
Of all these difficulties we are perfectly conscious, and
have no expectation of satisfactorily overcoming them.
The preacher himself feels the first, far more keenly
perhaps than any of his hearers ; but the peculiarity of
the day reconciles him to it. As to the others, he must
do the best he can to give such a general view of the
subject as may be at once sufficient and intelligible ; and
so to regulate his spirit and words as to avoid exposing
himself to his own condemnation. That is of far more
importance, to every one of us, than either pleasing or
displeasing other people. It is very childish toi be
offended with any man for openly and honestly saying
what he thinks, because he happens to think differently
from ourselves; — as it is worse than childish to keep
back our convictions, when required to be uttered,

saint Bartholomew's day. 29
because they may be mistaken in some quarters or
unwelcome in others. There have been times and
circumstances, in the history both of a nation and a
church, when " an angel from heaven" would not have
been listened to by one party if he had happened to say
anything in favour of another. It should be the object
of the advocates of every cause, to be able to say, from
the consciousness of personal honesty and sincerity,
with one who himself was often not only misunderstood
but maligned, " It is a small matter to be judged of you
or of man's judgment ; He that judgeth me is the Lord."
There is a grand and sublime sense in which — accom
modating the words — a man may say, as he stands at the
bar of human opinion, " I appeal unto Cmsar."
The plan which we have laid down for ourselves, and
which we shall endeavour to carry out, is this. To give
you a broad and comprehensive view of the case of the
Bartholomew Nonconformists, as being the issue of a
long series of religious agitations ; — then to consider
the moral significance of what they did, which may
possibly suggest to us, or be found to involve, one
or two lessons applicable to ourselves, or to the times
generally in which we live.
In endeavouring to put all this into one discourse^ it
is obvious that I must be allowed to touch upon every
thing very briefly ; to give you the results of reading
and thought, rather than the processes by which such
results have been arrived1 at; in fact, to express simply
my personal convictions-r-my opinion, judgment, belief —
in general terms, without going minutely into particulars ;
leaving it to you to test my trustworthiness, and to

30 saint Bartholomew's day.
judge my judgments, by examining for yourselves the
historical facts, and by looking at character in connexion
with a deep sense of what is due to religious convictions,
and to the feeling of a definite moral obligation.

In the history of opinion, in an individual or a com
munity, you may often observe three stages. There
may be, in the first place, the stagnation, acquiescence,
or unanimity of ignorance ; — then, the disturbance,
agitation, and conflicts of inquiry ; — and not till all this
has passed is there the repose and the unanimity of
knowledge or love. Looking at the history of the
human mind, on a large scale, in this view of its pro
gress, and taking for illustration some subject of scientific
investigation — the circulation of the blood, for instance,
or as to the earth or the sun being the centre of
the system — you can see the truth of what we have
advanced. There was a time when nothing at all was
thought about the first of these, for no one suspected
it ; and when, as to the second, everybody supposed that
what appeared to the senses was true in fact. There
was no discussion or controversy — party feeling, opposite
schools, difference of opinion — about these things then.
Light, however, came; inquiries were prosecuted, dis
coveries made, conclusions arrived at and opinions pro
mulgated, that gave rise to wonder, dispute, disbelief,
denial— to examination, doubt, probability, conviction.
The unanimity of ignorance was disturbed; elements
and powers that had been quiet became excited ; long

saint Bartholomew's day. 31
and bitter word-battles were fought, — nor were words
always the only weapons. At length, the truth was
cleared of obscurations, and advanced and brightened
till it became visible to all. It was then universally
acknowledged and accepted. The result was, that con
troversy ceased, medical and astronomical estrangements
were at an end, and the public mind — once stagnant, then
agitated — closed its vicissitudes by quietly settling down
in the light of truth, and entering into that rest
which results from the certainty and the unanimity of
knowledge. A like process may be gone through — and
has been gone through — with respect to matters of moral
and metaphysical inquiry. In such cases, however, the
unanimity of knowledge (properly so called) may not have
been attained, because the subjects of thought were not
matters of scientific demonstration. There may have
been attained, however, that tranquil condition of feeling
and intellect, which results from the recognition of the
facts that such and such matters cannot, from their very
nature, admit of definite and indisputable settlement ;
that there will always be the possibility of different
opinions or beliefs respecting them ; and that, therefore,
the rational thing for the philosophers to do, is to agree
to differ ; to respect each others' capacity and intellect ;
to canvass and discuss, with good temper, the conclusions
of different schools ; and, without giving up either the
correctness or the importance of their own views, for all
to feel that it is enough for each to be conscious of
honesty of intention and completeness of inquiry, and
" to be fully persuaded in his own mind." In many
departments of philosophy, taste, morals, criticism, there

32 SAINT BARTHOLOMEWS DAY.
has been a process like this : — a time of ignorance, then
of dispute, and then one of quietness and tranquillity,
not founded, however, on demonstrated knowledge, but
on the exercise of candid and liberal feeling.
s Any of you who have lived a life of religious earnestness
will recognise in this sketch of the progress of opinion,
the outline of your own mental history. The same may
be applied to the history of a nation — of course to our
own — in respect to the adyance of its theological beliefs ;
— the growth and development of its religious ideas, and
the form and expression of its religious life. The
subject before us, this morning, naturally suggests this
mode of illustration. The year 1662, took the character
it did, by way of natural consequence, from the times
which had preceded it ; times, however, which go much
further back than many imagine. It belonged to the
second period of which we have spoken, — the period of
inquiry, search, questioning, discussion, and it was the
crisis and close of a stormy part of it. Whether it intro
duced the third period, the unanimity either of know
ledge or love ; or whether we have got within sight of
that yet ; we need not, for the present, stay to inquire.
II.
Let me set before you, then, in as few words as
possible, the line of thought which we wish you to
pursue. Let me mark out the period of our national
history over which your eye is to travel, and indicate the
objects, which, for the understanding of our present sub
ject, you are specially to notice. We take you back to the

saint Bartholomew's day. 33
times that lie behind the 14th century, and without
curiously inquiring into such mental activities as might
possibly distinguish them, we will assume them to have
been, in relation to modern religious belief, the period
in which there was the unanimity of ignorance. The
national understanding and the national conscience were
trampled into the dust by the foot of authority. They
were kept quiescent by an external force, which created
and encouraged mental stagnation. The souls of men
were as good as dead, — and the dead, you are aware, are
very quiet. They have no quarrels or controversies,
schisms or strifes ; there is nothing to disturb their
perfect unanimity. The peace of the grave is never
interrupted by novelties of opinion, rude reformers,
prophets or preachers that alarm the conscience,
pamphlets and books which stimulate inquiry. This
sort of tranquillity it was, that our forefathers enjoyed,
in those good old times when the Church was above the
State, and when its power was such that nothing within
the compass of its dark shadow, dared " to peep or
mutter or move the wing."
In this state of things a ray of light appeared in the
sky. A star became visible in the murky firmament
overhead, and it so shone upon things beneath, that the
dead were aroused — the sleepers awoke. They began to
stir, to rise up, to look about them, and not only to
notice the objects that were revealed, but to speculate
upon them, and to talk about them, and to form conjec
tures, and to have opinions, — and so it was that the quiet
ness and unanimity of the past departed. In other
words, by the preaching of Wyckliffe, "the morning
c2

34 saint Bartholomew's day.
star " of the Beformation, an influence was exerted to so
large an extent on the minds of his countrymen, that
attention was excited, and inquiry quickened, and " the
new doctrine," as his message was called, eagerly
received. Of course, there could be no communion
between light and darkness. Opposition was put forth,
denunciations were fulminated. The persecuted were
firm ; they held fast, proclaimed, and defended their convic
tions ; and hence agitation, disturbance, controversy. It
could not be helped ; it was not tq be lamented. Better,
far better, life and light, and action and progress, with
confusion, and battle and war, than the stagnation of
death, and the peace of the grave. The breath of the
morning swept over the surface of the dark waters— the
dead sea of the human mind in its state of stagnation.
It increased in force as the light augmented, and the
result was, the rise of waves and billows that rolled
tumultuously, and " lifted up their voice on high." But
it was the beginning of a healthy and purifying action,
and was the prelude and prophecy of the coming day.
This first movement in the mind of the nation, at this
remote period, was a cry for doctrinal truth, pure and simple,
in opposition to the encrustations which were supposed
to have corrupted the -primitive Evangel. You will find,
however, even at this early period, how certain ideas, in
relation to the Ministry and to Church order, which afterwards
became prominent, were already in the mind, and found
utterance and embodiment in the words of Wyckliffe.
Those words are — " By the ordinance of Christ, priests
and bishops were all one." " I boldly assert this one
thing, viz., that in the primitive church, or in the time of

saint Bartholomew's day. 35
Paul, two orders of the clergy were sufficient, that is, a
priest and a deacon. In like manner I affirm that, in the
time of Paul, presbyter and bishop were names of the
same office." Thus, in the very beginning of the second
period — the period of inquiry — there was the discovery
and the planting of the germ of thoughts, from which
was ultimately to be developed, not only a system of
evangelical truth, but a subdued form of church order.
• The next advance in this second period was under
Henry VIII., when, after his change from being the
defender and advocate of the Papacy, to becoming a reli
gious and ecclesiastical Beformer, the battle became a
contest for national independence. He assumed the head
ship of the church, cast off the authority of the Pope,
claimed for himself and people a freedom from foreign
jurisdiction, and put forth articles of belief which, in
different directions, were intended both to advance and
arrest the progress of opinion. The new doctrine, which
in the time of Wyckliffe originated the Lollards, in the
time of Henry was taking a further Protestant form ;
while the new notion of the regal supremacy, was transfer
ring the church from the power of the Pope to the hands of
the monarch. At this stage Papist and Protestant alike
suffered, and both sometimes at the same stake ; — the
one as a heretic, for denying transubstantiation, the other
as a traitor, for opposing the ecclesiastical supremacy of
the King.
Omitting the parenthesis of the reign of Mary, when
Popery was re-established, and the nation was reconciled
to Borne, you will observe that another advance in the
period of inquiry was made in the time of Edward VI.,

86 saint Bartholomew's day.
and went on through the reigns of Elizabeth, James, and
Charles, till it culminated in the state of things under
the Commonwealth. This was the Puritan agitation ; —
the battle for further reformation, for greater decision in
the Protestant creed, and for greater simplicity in church
rites and clerical habits. During this long period, the
Puritans were constantly advocating reform, and seeking
relief from things which they felt to be practically
oppressive. They were opposed, insulted, persecuted, —
but they continued to increase both in numbers and
zeal. It is a curious fact, that in the convocation which
met in 1562 — justice hundred years ago — in the early
part of the reign of Elizabeth, the Puritan element was
so strong, that many of the members, distinguished by
high ecclesiastical office, were anxious and earnest for
ritual reformation. A proposition to abrogate all saints'
days, for the minister not to turn his face from the people
while reading the service, fox the omission of the sign of
the cross in baptism, for kneeling at the sacrament to be
left to discretion, and for the discontinuance of the use
of organs, was carried by a majority of eight of those
present at the discussion; but proxies being admitted for
those that were absent, the decision was reversed by a
majority of one. So very near was the church of Elizabeth
to being modified and marked by Puritan opinion.
Every one knows how, when James I. came to the
throne, the Puritan clergy in large numbers petitioned
for relief, and how he brow-beat and bantered them, and
ordered them to conform, or, if not, threatened "to harry
them out of the land." Under him and his successor,
things were continually getting worse. For a hundred

saint Bartholomew's day. 37
years the Puritans were persecuted ; many were deprived
and excluded from their livings, and many sought refuge
beyond the seas. At the same time that they were thus
oppressed, they saw the church deteriorated, as they
thought, both in creed and worship, by doctrinal defection
and Popish innovations. All this while, various contro
versies were going on, and most people's opinions were
getting modified, so that, what with advances without
and retrogressions within, it is not to be wondered at if
some of the clergy, and some of the students at the
Universities, lost their attachment to episcopal govern
ment, and came to prefer a more moderate regimen.
Side by side with ecclesiastical abuses, there went on the
process of political degeneracy in the illegal and arbitrary
conduct of the King. The patience and forbearance
of the people were at length exhausted, and they rose
up in opposition to both, determined to obtain reforma
tion and redress. The Parliament that commenced the
ecclesiastical changes, excluding the bishops from the
House of Lords, was composed of members of the
National Church ; every individual of that formidable
assembly communicated at her altars. A period of con
tention and anarchy began; change followed change
with terrible rapidity ; the orders and offices, the liturgy
and worship of the Episcopal Church, were set aside ;
the Puritan clergy were in the ascendant ; and, in pro
cess of time, there were admitted to the priesthood (if I
may so call it) of the National Establishment as now
constituted, many who were ordained by " the laying on
of" only " the hands of the presbytery."

38 saint Bartholomew's day.

III.
So, up to this point, had gone on this period of inquiry-
marked, as such periods always are, by manifold agitations.
While things are struggling to form themselves into some
thing like order, there will always be occasional violent con
vulsions, and something of chronic disturbance besides.
In looking over the period to which we are referring,
there are two or three things which, for the right under
standing of the subject in hand, must not be overlooked.
In the first place, the contest we have at present to do
with, was the contest within the church. All the time
that this internal struggle was going on, there were
bands of Separatists, more or less numerous, every now
and then detaching themselves from the central body,
and taking the form of distinct congregations. Into
their case, however, we do not at present enter. Some
of them had got the start of both the parties in the
National Establishment, and are more worthy of eulogy
than either. But it is not with them that we are at pre
sent concerned. Their existence requires this passing
recognition, but the matter before us, just now, is, as I
have said, the contest within the church. In the second
place, it is to be noticed, that the contest itself was of the
nature of a struggle between conservatism and reform.
The one party clung to old traditions, to doctrines and
forms, ecclesiastical arrangements and ritual practices,
which the other deemed superstitious or erroneous, and
which it wished to alter, to modify, or to supersede, so as
to bring things, as it thought, into greater harmony with
apostolic truth and primitive order. In the third place,

saint Bartholomew's day, 39
it is to be noticed, that both parties looked to the secular
power to support the truth. Both appealed to the will
of the monarch, invoked the interposition of the law, and
sought for the establishment of its own ideas by the regal
or parliamentary repression of the opposite. The one
party was willing, not only that the sun of revived truth,
in the Eeformed and Protestant Church of England,
should " stand still," but that it should go back;, the other
wished it to go forward, thinking that it had not yet
attained its meridian ; but both of them looked for the
realisation of their wishes, not simply to God, but to
Joshua ! — to a Joshua, however, whom they had consti
tuted such for themselves, and who had not been divinely
appointed for the work.
When things came to a real death-struggle, in the
middle of 1662, the Joshua of the Church changed, from
one man to many; — from the Eoyal patronage of one
party, to the Parliamentary patronage of the other. The
principle was the same, though the agent was different.
Those who had been undermost for a hundred years,
were now recognized as supreme ; those who had
formerly walked on the high places were now in the
dust. So things continued till the turn of the tide,
which brought back again to their old moorings the
remnants or the representatives of the past age. Then
it was that there might have been comprehensive
arrangements and mutual concessions, which would have
shown that each party had profited by its own vicissi
tudes. But such was not the temper of the times. On
one side, there was both the subtlety and the venom of
the serpent ; there was the sense of advantage, and the

40 saint Bartholomew's day.
determination to retaliate. On the other side, there was
little wisdom, no tact, with too great dependence on pro
mises and professions which meant nothing. The fact
is, that there was never an intention on the part of the
bishops to do any thing but to get rid of their old adversa-
ries, — and on their part, again, there was too much desire, all
things considered, to introduce into the church functional
changes. There might have been, I think, had wisdom
and love presided on the occasion, such temporary
arrangements agreed to, — arrangements, say, to meet
the case of the then existing generation of the Pres~
byterian clergy, — as would have gone far to secure their
comprehension. But it was not wished to be. It was
not meant to be. It was never contemplated, and never
endeavoured; and hence, after those on one side had
been cajoled and outwitted in various ways, those on the
other, when things were ripe for it, so influenced and
inspired the powers of the State that an Act was passed,
definitively dictating such terms of accommodation as
couldnot be accepted without dishonour. So resolute were
the men to make the conditions formidable and severe,
that they actually made them worse, for themselves and
their successors, than they had ever been before. They
prepared a burden for the church, in the conditions of
conformity then imposed, under which it has groaned,
or which it has trampled upon ever since.
The Act of Uniformity, then, we think we may say,
was the climax and close of one of the divisions of that
period of inquiry, of which we have been speaking. It
was not the close of the period itself, — at least not for
fixe nation. The English mind, considered as a whole,,

SAINT BARTHOLOMEWS DAY.

41

is passing through the conflicts of inquiry still, and will
have to do so, for a long time yet, before it reaches the
third stage (if it ever does) of the unanimity either of
knowledge or love. For those, indeed, who can con
scientiously conform, the period of inquiry, with respect
to many things, is finished and done with. They
have passed beyond it, and are now in possession, or
must feel as if they were, of ascertained and compara
tively absolute truth. The rigid Presbyterian of 1662,
thought thus of himself, in respect to his system of
dogma and discipline. He embodied and fixed it in his
'' Westminster Confession," and other " standards ;"
and he would have been quite willing to have seen it
imposed on the nation in general, and the Episcopalians
in particular, if an Act had been passed for that purpose.
He, however, could not accept the ascertained truth and
the settled order of the other party; and, as nothing
less than the acceptance of both, in every particular, —
in all the extent and all the minuteness of the entire
fabric, — as nothing less than this was demanded of him
as the condition of his remaining in the Establishment
and being embraced by the church, he had no alternative
but to sacrifice position, and income, and every thing
else that could only be retained by the violation of duty,
disloyalty to truth, the loss of his self-respect, and the
forfeiture of the favour of God !
In one sense, then, it may be admitted that what was
required of the successors of the Puritan clergy was so
monstrous, that for them to yield it, — to give up, or to
profess to give up, the convictions of years, — to accept
and submit to what they had so long and so strenuously

42 saint Bartholomew's day.
resisted,— to say that they believed, in words addressed
either to God or man, what they did not believe, — to
promise to practise what they thought to be repugnant
to the simplicity of Christ, — to submit to laws and to join
in anathemas which they felt to be an offence against
heaven and earth, the thunder of the church evoked to
confirm violations of charity ; — it may be admitted, that
for this to have been done, or the half of it, or the
quarter of it, would have been so infamous, that the
refusing to do it was no great virtue. Let it be so. I
am quite content. I am not anxious to make the men
out to be prodigies of excellence. They had many
defects, — some that were their own, and some that
belonged to the age and to the times in which they lived.
Leaving, then, the men themselves out of view ; without
dealing in panegyric and eulogy about them ; let us just
take their act itself — the thing that they did — and con
sider what signification it has, looked at in the light that
is thrown upon it by what preceded and by what has
followed it. IV.
You all know, I suppose, what the Act of Uniformity
required. It may be put in few words. It required, —
the public declaration of unfeigned assent and consent
to all and everything contained and prescribed in and by
the Book of Common Prayer, and administration of the
sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies of the
Church of England ; together with the Psalter, and the
form or manner of making, ordaining, and consecrating
of bishops, priests and deacons. It required, also, the

saint Bartholomew's day. 43
taking the oath of canonical obedience, and of subjection
to the ordinary, according to the canons of the Church.
It further required the abjuration of the solemn league
and covenant ; and of any obligation imposed by it to
endeavour any change or alteration of government either
in church or state ; and, lastly, a distinct declaration of
the unlawfulness, under any pretence whatever, of taking
up arms against the King. These requirements involved
the abandonment or denial of every thing of moment
which the men had ever professed or done ; and the
acceptance of much that was directly contrary to their
known convictions. Admit that there was no great
heroism in refusing what would have involved the most
flagrant immorality, — though the refusal entailed the
- loss of all things, and might possibly be followed, as it
was followed, with penal consequences, — still, there may
be a significance in the fact that the thing was done
and the suffering sustained, which may be well worthy
of notice and remembrance. Such points as the* follow
ing might be enlarged upon and illustrated to almost
any length.
1. In the first place, the demand and the penalty were
the natural issue of the wrong principle which was ad
mitted and acted on by every dominant party of the day.
The establishment of a church, and the enforcement of
a creed, by secular authority, was a common principle
with Papist and Protestant, priest and presbyter, in
those old times. Whichever had the supremacy thought
itself the proper religion for the nation, and, being that,
its adoption was to be enforced by penal enactments.
But, if it was wrong for Mary to act on this principle, it

44 saint Bartholomew's day.
was wrong for Elizabeth. If it was wrong for Acts of
Parliament to oppress the Puritans, it was wrong for them
to oppress the adherents of Episcopacy. If it was right to
enforce the acceptance of the Directory in place of the
Prayer Book, it might be right to enforce the use of the
Prayer Book in place of the Directory. I am well aware
that much may be said, on behalf of the Presbyterians, in
mitigation of judgment ; but the fact must be admitted,
that a wrong principle was common alike to the two
great Protestant parties in question ; — the principle that
the highest power in the State, whatever that might be,
was to be relied upon for the support and enforcement
of the faith. It might be, that God prevented the for
mation of a comprehensive Establishment by the agree
ment of these parties at the Bestoration, lest the wrong
principle recognized by both should cease to be ques
tioned by such a result.
2. The conduct of the Nonconformists, whatever there
may have been to lessen its lustre, does bring before us,
in many ways, the reverence which is due to conscience —
by men to man's, and by each man to his own. The
fathers of Nonconformity were so circumstanced, that
they were obliged to look at oaths and subscriptions
with deep seriousness. To them, they were a solemn
reality. They meant something. They could not be
trifled with. Every thing was new, and glowing, and
vital, coming from those who forged them in earnest
ness, and who expected them to be taken to signify what
they said. The very canons themselves, which so many
smile at now, were, at the period we speak of, compara
tively fresh. It is only by time that oaths and subscrip-

saint Bartholomew's day. 45
tions become a formality, and get to be looked upon as
meaning nothing. There are men, now, who never
think seriously of what they have done, and would do
again, who, if some new test was proposed to them, or
some new form of subscription or declaration required,
would refuse and resist whatever might be the conse
quence. Whether, of itself, time should be permitted
so to modify the aspect of things, as to deaden the sense
of moral obligation, I will not inquire ; but that it does
so, is patent to all. The demand, however, made on
the Nonconformists came to them in its primary signi
ficance and force. The words of Burnet, in speaking of
the Articles of Elizabeth, and referring to subscription
in 1562, may be applied to those who, a hundred years
after, hesitated or refused. "One notion," he says,
" that has since been taken up by some, seems not to
have been then thought of; which is, that these were
rather articles of peace than of belief; so that the sub
scribing was rather a compromise not to teach any
doctrine contrary to them, than a declaration that they
believed according to them. There appears no reason
for this conceit, no such thing being then declared; so
that those who subscribed did either believe them to be
true, or else they did grossly prevaricate.'' Or, the men
may be supposed to have looked at the matter through
the eyes and judgment of Dr. Lushington, who thus
speaks in his recent deliverance on the case of Dr.
Williams. "The articles of religion, the formularies,
and the canons, interpreted according to legal construc
tion, are binding upon the clergy." "Conformity to
both the liturgy and articles is imposed, by the 36th

46 saint Bartholomew's day.
canon. The canons are binding on the clergy." "With
regard to the meaning of the act of subscription to
the articles, I have no hesitation in declaring my
opinion that the subscription is a most solemn act,
and that though the Court cannot take cognizance of
the intentions of a clergyman when he subscribes them,
yet the law will hold him to have taken the obligation
secundum animum imponentis ; and that mind is, the plain
grammatical sense of the articles themselves. The sub
scription to such articles is a declaration by the sub
scriber of his conviction of their truth, and his promise
to abide by them." Exactly in this way it was that the
Nonconformists regarded their acceptance alike of
liturgy, offices, and canons ; and the solemn declaration
of "assent and consent to all and every thing in the Book
of Common Prayer, the administration of the sacraments,
and the ordering of bishops, priests, and deacons."
There were principles and expressions in the baptismal
and other services, in some of the rubrics, in the form
for the burial of the dead, and in the ordination formu
laries, which they did not admit, or could not approve,
or strongly condemned, or utterly denied, and which,
therefore, they would not subscribe to or profess. The
lesson taught by such conduct should not be lost,
especially in the present day, when the secret seems to
be possessed by some — and to be taught too — how sub
scription may be harmonized with the denial of almost
every thing subscribed.
3. The conduct of the men had in it the germ of
things, which have since been developed in much that is
now secured to us by law.

saint Bartholomew's day. i&7
They would not strip themselves of the liberty to
endeavour reforms in, and to remove abuses from, either
Church or State. They would not declare that no possi
ble circumstances whatever could occur, in which it
might be permitted to oppose a king, — not even in
resistance to tyranny or in support of the law, — law,
which in a free nation is the King's king. They would
not assert that there could not possibly be, in the realm
of England, congregations of Christian men that might
be called " churches," besides the church established by
law. These and such-like things. — assertions or denials
as the case might be — were involved in the protest of
the Nonconformists of 1662. They have not been with
out results. Though the men had much to suffer, from
subsequent penal and persecuting laws, their principles
in time bore abundantly their legitimate fruits. They
justified resistance to arbitrary rule, and the bringing in
of a new dynasty. They led to the act of toleration.
They ultimately secured the liberty of worship. Had
not the Nonconformists protested and suffered in one
century, there would have been no clear stage for the
missionary movements of Wesley and Whitfield in the
next. The English people, as such, and the various
religious communities of the land, have much to be
thankful for, as the consequence of the conduct of those
men who are commemorated to-day.
4th. The effects of the ejectment on the English
church — the century and more of deadness and world-
liness, of dry formality, hollow profession, clerical indif
ference, which followed the legal settlement of the
Establishment, and the casting out of it of the Puritan
D

48, saint Bartholomew's day.
leaven — reads a warning to every professedly Christian
community to beware of giving way to wrath and revenge >
— to taking delight in retaliating wrong, in humiliating
a rival, or vexing a brother. God is the avenger of all
such. He can make success in a bad cause — in pursuing
an unlovely or unloving object — to become, in its effects,
like a blasting and mildew, bringing with it blight and
barrenness ; or like the star wormwood cast into the
waters, which caused many of those who drank of them
to die ; or like the denial of genial and fertilizing in
fluences — the light, and grace, and dew of the spirit —
till, figuratively speaking, " the heavens shall become as
brass and the earth as iron."
5th. In the last place, while we must sorrowfully
confess that we are still only in the second stage of the
progress of opinion, and that it will be a long time yet,
before the Christian church arrives at the third, let us
all try to do what we can to hasten the approach of
" the good time coming," if it is ever to come. There
never can be, on religious subjects, the unanimity of
knowledge, — knowledge, I mean, in the sense of strict,
scientific demonstration. Especially is this true of those
secondary things, on which Christians may differ who
are one in faith, — things which have been too often
made the watchwords of schism and the instruments of
tyranny. In respect to all such, however, there may be,
and ought to be, the unanimity of love. Without saying
that such things are absolutely indifferent, — or feeling
about them as if " to be fully persuaded in one's own
mind," meant to adopt them without reason, and to
adhere to them without thought ; — without any thing of

saint Bartholomew's day. 49
this sort, there may be the distinct recognition of the
right to differ ; mutual respect between those who do
•differ ; and the hearty acknowledgment of the intellec
tual integrity and the Christian conscientiousness of
those who hold opposite opinions to ourselves. With
respect to others, where there is nothing to suggest a
suspicion of their uprightness, our rule must be, — " to
their own Master they stand or fall." The rule of each
of us for himself ought to be — " Be fully persuaded," —
that is, intelligently informed, rationally convinced, — for
" whatsoever is not of faith," of this full and enlightened
persuasion, " is sin." " Happy is he that condemneth
not himself in that thing that he alloweth." If there
were more acting on these rules, there would be more
coincidence even in opinion ; but if not, there would be
more harmony in feeling and sentiment. In this way,
therefore, all might do something towards heralding the
approach of the unanimity of love.

NOTE.
I once thought of noticing, in an Appendix, some matters sug
gested by certain Bicentenary movements and utterances, bearing on
the views and practices both of modern Nonconformists and modern
Churchmen. Many ecclesiastical questions, of deep interest to us of
the present day, may be viewed altogether apart from the transac
tions of 1662, and from the men on either side. Whatever may have
been the case on the first general acceptance of the "assent and con
sent," it is certainly the case now, that the Church of the Prayer-book
and the Church of England are two different things; the latter,
indeed, as things are, differs from the former both in law and fact.
Nonconformity, in 1862, is not confined to the chapel or the meeting
house; there are several existing sects of Nonconformists within the
Church. I shall not, however, burden a popular tract with disquisi
tions on such matters, so I dismiss these two sermons without any
additions of a different nature from what was prepared for the utter
ance and impression of the hour. . . . Perhaps I ought to say, that for
most of the facts mentioned in the first sermon, relating to the interval
between May and August, I am indebted to " The Church and Non
conformists of 1662," an admirable lecture, by the Rev. D. Mount-
field, M.A., Incumbent of Oxon, Salop ; and to the Rev. J. Stoughton's
" Church and State Two Hundred Years Ago," a volume of singular
excellence, containing a full and carefully authenticated account of all
the circumstances connected with the passing of the Act of Uniformity.
It may look almost like a piece of pharisaism to mention another
thing, but I will mention it nevertheless. Some time ago I took up
a volume, the title of which I forget, and read just one sentence, to
the effect that three stages might often be observed in the progress of
opinion. The thought abode with me, and the reader sees, in the
second sermon, the use it was pnt to. Curious, that! — a passing,
accidental contact with a single thought to furnish one with the plan
of a discourse.

GEORGE UNWIH, GRESHAM STEAM PRESS, BUCKLERSBURY, E.C,

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