Page images
PDF
EPUB

of God in particular. Whereby it cometh to pass, that God in shewing mercy upon whom he will shew mercy, is yet for his justice no loser being both just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.'

[ocr errors]

By virtue of his intercession, our Mediator appeareth in the presence of God for us, and maketh request for us. To this purpose, the Apostle noteth in the 4th to the Hebrews, I. That we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God.' (v. 14.) II. That we have not a high Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all things tempted as we are, yet without sin.' (v. 15.) Betwixt the having of such, and the not having of such an Intercessor; betwixt the height of him in regard of the one, and the lowliness in regard of his other nature, standeth the comfort of the poor sinner. He must be such a suitor as taketh our case to heart: and therefore in all things it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high Priest.' In which respect, as it was needful he should partake with our flesh and blood, that he might be tenderly affected unto his brethren, so likewise for the obtaining of so great a suit, it behoved he should be most dear to God the Father, and have so great an interest in him, as he might always be sure to be heard in his requests: who therefore could be no other, but he of whom the Father testified from heaven, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.' It was fit our Intercessor should be a man, like unto ourselves, that we might boldly come to him, and find grace to help in time of need :' it was fit he should be God, that he might boldly go to the Father without any way disparaging him, as being his fellow and equal. Zech. xiii. 7, Phil. ii. 6.

6

But such was God's love to justice, and hatred to sin, that he would not have his justice swallowed up with mercy, nor sin pardoned without the making of fit reparation. And therefore Our Mediator must not look to procure for us a simple pardon without more ado; but must be a propitiation for our sins, and redeem us by fine and ransom; and so not only be the master of our requests, to entreat the Lord for us, but also take upon him the part of an Advocate, to plead full satisfaction made by himself, as our surety, unto all the debt wherewith we any way stood chargeable.'

In the year 1639, the Archbishop published his great work, Britannicarum Ecclesiarum Antiquitates (The Ancient History of the British Churches); including an account of Pelagius and his heresy. This work was the produce of many years' labour and reflection; and as the learned had looked forward to its publication with much anxiety, so it fully answered their expectations. It was the most exact account then existing of the religion of the British isles, containing his reasons for believing that the gospel was implanted here within twenty years after our Saviour's crucifixion, and tracing the history of the church, and the succession of bishops, till near the end of the seventh century.

Besides his efforts to diffuse the Protestant faith by means of his writings, he sought opportunities of conversing with his Roman Catholic neighbours of eyery class, and convinced many that the views in which they had been brought up were erroneous; at the same time successfully representing to them the soundness of the doctrines of the Established Church, and the excellence of her liturgy. During his visit to England at the time of his advancement to the bishopric, he was invited by Lord Mordaunt, afterwards Earl of Peterborough,

to his seat at Drayton in Northamptonshire. That nobleman was a Papist, and wished to draw his lady to the same religion, but happily consented that a discussion of the doctrines at issue should take place in their presence. Lady Mordaunt chose Archbishop Usher as the advocate of the Protestant side; and his opponent was a jesuit, then residing with that family. The conference lasted for several days, and at length ended in the jesuit declining further discussion, on the ground that he had forgotten his arguments. The consequence was, the lady was confirmed in her views of scriptural truth; and Lord Mordaunt, after a few private interviews with the Archbishop, confessed himself a Protestant by conviction, and continued in that faith to the end of his days.'

With the same object in view, the Archbishop induced the admirable Mr. Bedell to settle in Ireland, by whose zealous labours the Irish translation of the Bible was produced. Also by the Archbishop's exertions an union was effected between the English and Irish churches. The Irish Church adopting the English Articles, without abrogating its own, and forming a rule of discipline out of the English canons, with some alterations.

The Archbishop was now favoured with a few years of comparative quiet and tranquillity; during which ;

[blocks in formation]

had a repetition of his sermon in the chapel, which he had preached in the church in the forenoon.

In the winter evenings he constantly spent two hours in comparing of old manuscripts of the Bible, Greek and Latin, where about five or six of us assisted him, and the various readings of each were taken down by himself with his own hand.'

In the year 1649, the Archbishop proceeded with his family to London, with the hope of allaying in some degree the storm which then threatened to visit the kingdom with distress and misery. On the impeachment of Lord Strafford his Grace frequently visited that unfortunate nobleman, and assisted him in various parts of his defence: and when the bill of attainder passed the House of Lords, he was summoned by a royal messenger while preaching on the Sunday morning at Covent Garden church. Descending from the pulpit, he told the messenger that he was employed about God's business; but as soon as he had done, he would attend upon his majesty! He then resumed his discourse, and, after service, proceeded to Whitehall; where he gave his opinion, that if his majesty was satisfied by what he had heard at the trial, that the earl was not guilty of treason, he ought not in conscience to consent to his condemnation.' And when the king yielded to the popular demand, the Archbishop said, with tears,'Oh, sire, what have you done? I fear that this act may prove a great trouble upon your conscience, and pray God that your majesty may never suffer for signing this bill!'

The Archbishop, who had not been regarded by Lord Strafford, when in Ireland, with any friendly feeling, had many interviews with his lordship after his condemnation, and on the last evening of his mortal existence, assisted him in

his

prayers to that court where, as the earl remarked, neither partiality can be expected nor error found.' Next morning he attended him to the scaffold, kneeled down and prayed by his side, observed with comfort that the departing nobleman was engaged in silent devotion; was personally was personally addressed in that courageous and eloquent speech which he delivered before disrobing for execution; and having received his last farewell, hastened from the touching scene, and bore to the king the tidings that all was over, adding the only consolation which the case admitted, that he had reason to believe that the earl was well prepared for that change, and that his last gloomy hours were brightened by the hope of eternal glory.'

A Po

In the following year, the Archbishop was employed, in conjunction with Bishop Hall, in writing in defence of the Church. In the autumn, intelligence was received of the dreadful Irish massacre, in which an immense number of the English inhabitants were destroyed with every aggravation of savage and licentious cruelty. A Popish writer boasted that upwards of two hundred thousand persons perished most miserably. The lowest estimate is that of Hume, who insinuates that not more than forty thousand were destroyed. It is worthy of notice that the Infidel historians studiously endeavour to reduce to the lowest possible estimate the victims of Popish persecution and cruelty.

By this insurrection the Archbishop's property and revenues were so completely destroyed, that he was reduced to the necessity of selling the plate and other valuables which he had brought over to England for his present support. A few years after, the parliament, ving seized on the bishops' lands, ed the Archbishop an annuity

of four hundred pounds, which appears to have been very ill paid, so that his grace had in his declining years to encounter considerable pecuniary difficulties and embarrassments.

In the summer of 1643, the Archbishop was nominated one of the Assembly of Divines, who were appointed by parliament to consult about the changes to be made in the doctrine and discipline of the Church. It is not quite clear whether his grace ever attended the Assembly. At all events, on his waiting on his majesty at Oxford, the divines expelled him from their body, and seized upon his library, which he had left at Chelsea College. In the troubles which soon after ensued, the Archbishop took refuge with his son-in-law, Sir Timothy Tyrrell, governor of Cardiff Castle; and when the garrison was withdrawn from that fortress, the Archbishop availed himself of the kind hospitality of the dowager Lady Speidling at St. Donat's; but on his journey from Cardiff, he was exposed to considerable personal danger, and lost his books, manuscripts, and other valuables, though several of the books and papers were afterwards restored. While at St. Donat's, the Archbishop was attacked with a dangerous illness, so that his physicians despaired of his recovery; but in the midst of his pain, he was still patient, praising God, and resigning up himself to his will, and giving all those about him, or that came to visit him, excellent heavenly advice to a holy life, and due preparation for death, ere its agonies seized them. 'It is a dangerous thing, he said, 'to leave all undone till our last sickness; I fear a death-bed repentance will avail us little, if we have lived vainly and viciously, and neglected our conversion till we can sin no longer.'

"Thus he exhorted us all to fear

God, and love and obey the Lord Jesus Christ, and to live a holy life. 'And then,' said he, 'you will find the comfort of it at your death, and your change will be happy!'

While he appeared to be approaching his last hour, member of the parliament, who was related by marriage to the family at St. Donat's, came to visit him; to whom he said in a solemn manner, Sir, you see I am very weak, and cannot expect to live many hours; you are returning to the parliament, I am going to God; I charge you to tell them from me that I know they are in the wrong, and have dealt very injuriously with the king.

From this severe attack he was, however, mercifully recovered, and, after continuing nearly a year at St. Donat's, became anxious to secure a safe retreat; and was contemplating a retirement in some foreign land, when he received a pressing invitation from the Countess-dowager of Peterborough, to take up his abode with her in London, with an assurance that he should not be molested. With this invitation he gladly complied; and when about to leave St. Donat's, the neighbouring gentry, knowing that he was deprived of his ordinary means of support, generously sent him considerable sums to defray his travelling expenses.

On his arrival in London he was summoned to appear before the Committee of Examination at Westminster, who inquired where he had been and what he had been doing since he left London, and whether he had used any influence with the king on behalf of the Romish party. The Committee then proposed to him an oath

which had been framed for those who had favoured the king's cause; but on his desiring time for consideration, he was permitted to withdraw, and through the influence

of the learned Selden and others was not again called upon. Soon after he retired with the Countess of Peterborough to her house at Reigate in Surrey, where he often preached both in the Countess's chapel and the parish church, and in 1647 he obtained leave to preach publicly in London, where he was immediately chosen preacher, and supplied with handsome apartments by the honourable Society of Lincoln's Inn.

In 1648, when the Presbyterian party engaged in negotiations with the king, his majesty desired the presence of his chaplains, and especially of the Archbishop. The parliamentary commissioners would not allow any of his majesty's council to be present, but though the monarch's hair had become gray, and his bodily frame materially weakened, yet the vigour of his mind remained so unbroken, that though compelled alone to maintain the argument with fifteen of the ablest members of the House of Commons, they were unable to obtain any advantage over him.

The demands of the commissioners were however so unreasonable, that the conference produced no effect. His majesty was prepared to concede the suspension of episcopacy for three years, and after that its restoration in a modified form. But the commissioners determined on its entire abolition. The Archbishop had proposed to his majesty a plan of moderate episcopacy; but was at length compelled to take a last farewell of the unhappy monarch.

A few weeks after this, the eyes of the archbishop were once more to behold his persecuted king. It was on that day of execrable crime, when the monarch, who had long been stripped of his power to do either harm or good, was murdered in cold blood, in the face of the sun, and by order of a national council.

"The Lady Peterborough's house,

[ocr errors]

where my lord then lived,' says Dr. Parr, being just over against Charing-cross, divers of the countess's gentlemen and servants got upon the leads of the house, from whence they could see plainly what was acting before Whitehall. As soon as his majesty came upon the scaffold, some of the household came and told my lord primate of it, and asked him if he would see the king once more before he was put to death. My lord was at first unwilling, but was at last persuaded to go up, as well out of his desire to see his majesty once again, as also curiosity, since he could scarce believe what they told him unless he saw it. When he came upon the leads the king was in his speech; the lord primate stood still, and said nothing, but sighed; and lifting up his hands and eyes (full of tears) towards heaven, seemed to pray earnestly; but when his majesty had done speaking, and had pulled off his cloak and doublet, and stood stripped in his waistcoat, and that the villians in vizors began to put up his hair, the good bishop no longer able to endure so dismal a sight, and being full of grief and horror for that most wicked fact now ready to be executed, grew pale, and began to faint; so that if he had not been observed by his own servant and some others that stood near him, who thereupon supported him, he had swooned away. So they presently carried him down, and laid him on his bed, where he used those powerful weapons which God has left his people in such afflictions, viz. prayers and tears; tears that so horrid a sin should be committed, and prayers that God would give his prince patience and constancy to undergo those cruel sufferings.'

At the house of the countess of Peterborough the archbishop was careful to be always present at the family devotions. He was not less earnest and persevering in the

religious exercises of his closet; for being conscious of his weaknesses and wants, he did not fail to lay them before Him who could give strength and all things needful. He considered that no honey is sweeter to the palate than spiritual 'God's children,'

prayer to God.'

he would say, 'let Him deny them ever so long, yet they will never leave knocking and begging; they will pray and they will wait still, till they receive an answer. Many will pray to God, as prayer is a duty, but few use it as a means to obtain a blessing. Those who come to God in the use of it as a means to obtain what they would have, will pray and not give over; they will expect an answer, and never give over petitioning till they receive it.' Such views of prayer would naturally make him fervent and frequent in pouring out his heart before God.

When from these sacred and pleasurable occupations the archbishop looked into the world, the state of things which he beheld presented but a gloomy appearance. He mourned over the visionary doctrines of those strange times; he mourned over the fanciful interpretations of prophecy, which were then promulgated as truths of the Bible, the preaching of a dawning millennium, and of miracles that marked its appearing, the universal diffusion of the religion of the tongue; accompanied, as it was too sadly evidenced, with the general absence of the meekness of wisdom and the spirit of love. He deplored the decay of sound religion and Christian piety, which too much prevailed in those days, together with the mighty increase of both spiritual and fleshly wickedness; as heresies and schisms, and unchristian animosities; with debauchery and profaneness, which had so overrun and infected this nation during those times of licentiousness and confusion.' For these things he would

« EelmineJätka »