ley's manner; but those who are acquainted with Sprat's prose writings will form a very different estimate of his powers. He was, indeed, a great master of our language, and possessed at once the eloquence of the orator, of the controversialist, and of the historian. His moral character might have passed with little censure had he belonged to a less sacred profession; for the worst that can be said of him is, that he was indolent, luxurious, and worldly; but such failings, though not commonly regarded as very heinous in men of secular callings, are scandalous in a prelate. The archbishopric of York was vacant; Sprat hoped to obtain it, and therefore accepted a seat at the ecclesiastical board; but he was too good-natured a man to behave harshly; and he was too sensible a man not to know that he might at some future tirne be called to a serious account by a parliament. He, therefore, though he consented to act, tried to do as little mischief, and to make as few enemies, as possible.* The three remaining commissioners were the lord treasurer, the lord president, and the chief justice of the King's Bench. Rochester, disapproving and murmuring, consented to serve. Much as he had to endure at court, he could not bear to quit it. Much as he loved the Church, he could not bring himself to sacrifice for her sake his white staff, his patronage, his salary of eight thousand pounds a year, and the far larger indirect emoluments of his office. He excused his conduct to others, and perhaps to himself, by pleading that, as a commissioner, he might be able to prevent much evil, and that, if he refused to act, some person less attached to the Protestant religion would be found to replace him. Sunderland was the representative of the Jesuitical cabal. Herbert's recent decision on the question of the dispensing power seemed to prove that he would not flinch from any service which the king might require. As soon as the commission had been opened, the Bishop of London was cited before the new tribunal. He appeared. "I demand of you," said Jeffreys, "a direct and positive answer. Why did not you suspend Dr. Sharp ? The bishop requested a copy of the commission, in order that he might know by what authority he was thus interrogated. "If you mean,' ," said Jeffreys, "to dispute our authority, I * Burnet, i. 675, ii. 629; Spra's Letters to Dorset. shall take another course with you. As to the commission, I do not doubt that you have seen it. At all events, you may see it in any coffee-house for a penny." The insolence of the chancellor's reply appears to have shocked the other commissioners, and he was forced to make some awkward apologies. He then returned to the point from which he started. "This," he said, “is not a court in which written charges are exhibited. Our proceedings are summary, and by word of mouth. The question is a plain one. Why did you not obey the king? With some difficulty Compton obtained a brief delay, and the assistance of counsel. When the case had been heard, it was evident to all men that the bishop had done only what he was bound to do. The treasurer, the chief justice, and Bishop Sprat, were for acquittal. The king's wrath was moved. It seemed that his ecclesiastical commission would fail him, as his Tory parliament had failed him. He offered Rochester a simple choice, to pronounce the bishop guilty, or to quit the Treasury. Rochester was base enough to yield. Compton was suspended from all spiritual functions; and the charge of his great diocese was committed to his judges, Sprat and Cewe. He continued, however, to reside in his palace, and to receive his revenues; for it was known that, had any attempt been made to deprive him of his temporalities, he would have put himself under the protection of the common law; and Herbert himself declared that, at common law, judgment must be given against the crown. This consideration induced the king to pause. Only a few weeks had elapsed since he had packed the courts of Westminster Hall, in order to obtain a decision in favor of his dispensing power. He now found that, unless he packed them again, he should not be able to obtain a decision in favor of the proceedings of his ecclesiastical commission. He determined, therefore, to postpone for a short time the confiscation of the freehold property of refractory clergymen.* The temper of the nation was indeed such as might well make him hesitate. During some months discontent had been steadily and rapidly increasing. The celebration of the Roman Catholic worship had long been prohibited by act of parliament. During several generations no Roman Catholic clergyman had dared to exhibit himself in any public place with the * Burnet, i. 677; Barillon, Sept. 6, 1686. The public proceedings are in the Collection of State Trials. badges of his office. Against the regular clergy, and against the restless and subtle Jesuits by name, had been enacted a succession of rigorous statutes. Every Jesuit who set foot in this country was liable to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. A reward was offered for his detection. He was' not allowed to take advantage of the general rule, that men are not bound to accuse themselves. Whoever was suspected of being a Jesuit might be interrogated, and, if he refused to answer, might be sent to prison for life. These laws, though they had not, except when there was supposed to be some peculiar danger, been strictly executed, and though they had never prevented Jesuits from resorting to England, had made disguise necessary. But all disguise was now thrown off. Injudicious members of the king's church, encouraged by him, took a pride in defying statutes which were still of undoubted validity, and feelings which had a stronger hold of the national mind than at any former period. Roman Catholic chapels rose all over the country. Cowls, girdles of ropes, and strings of beads constantly appeared in the streets, and astonished a population, the oldest of whom had never seen a conventual garb except on the stage. A convent rose at Clerkenwell on the site of the ancient cloister of Saint John. The Franciscans occupied a mansion in Lincoln's Inn Fields. The Carmelites were quartered in the City. A society of Benedictine monks was lodged in Saint James's Palace. In the Savoy, a spacious house, including a church and a school, was built for the Jesuits. The skill and care with which those fathers had, during several generations, conducted the education of youth, had drawn forth reluctant praises from the wisest Protestants. Bacon had pronounced the mode of instruction followed in the Jesuit colleges to be the best yet known in the world, and had warmly expressed his regret that so admirable a system of intellectual and moral discipline should be subservient to the interests of a corrupt religion.‡ It was not improbable that the new academy in the Savoy might, under royal patronage, prove a formidable rival to the great foundations of Eton, Westminster, and Winchester. Indeed, soon after the school was opened, the classes consisted of four hundred boys, about one half of whom were Protestants. The Protestant pupils were * 27 Eliz. c. 2; 2 Jac. 1, c. 4; 3 Jac. 1, c. 5. + Clarke's Life of James the Second, ii. 79, 80, Orig. Mem. * not required to attend mass; but there could be no doubt that the influence of abie preceptors, devoted to the Roman Catholic Church, and versed in all the arts which win the confidence and affection of youth, would make many converts. These things produced great excitement among the populace, which is always more moved by what impresses the senses than by what is addressed to the reason. Thousands of rude and ignorant men, to whom the dispensing power and the ecclesiastical commission were words without a meaning, saw with dismay and indignation a Jesuit college rising on the banks of the Thames, friars in hoods and gowns walking in the Strand, and crowds of devotees pressing in at the doors of temples where homage was paid to graven images. Riots broke out in several parts of the country. At Coventry and Worcester the Roman Catholic worship was violently interrupted.* At Bristol the rabble, countenanced, it was said, by the magistrates, performed a profane and indecent pageant, in which the Virgin Mary was represented by a buffoon, and in which a mock host was carried in procession. The garrison was called out to disperse the mob. The mob, then and ever since one of the fiercest in the kingdom, resisted. Blows were exchanged and serious hurts inflicted. The agitation was great in the capital, and greater in the city, properly so called, than at Westminster. For the people of Westminster had been accustomed to see among them the private chapels of Roman Catholic ambassadors; but the city had not, within living memory, been polluted by any idolatrous exhibition. Now, however, the resident of the Elector Palatine, encouraged by the king, fitted up a chapel in Lime Street. The heads of the corporation, though men selected for office on account of their known Toryism, protested against this illegal proceeding. The lord mayor was ordered to appear before the privy council. "Take heed what you do," said the king. "Obey me; and do not trouble yourself either about gentlemen of the long robe or gentlemen of the short robe." The chancellor took up the word, and reprimanded the unfortunate magistrate with the genuine eloquence of the Old Bailey bar. The chapel was opened. All the neighborhood was soon in commotion. Great crowds assembled in Cheapside to attack the new mass house. The priests were insulted. A crucifix was taken out of the building Citters, May 14, 1686. + Citters, May 18, 1686. Adda, May 1. and set up on the parish pump. The lord mayor came to quel! the tumult, but was received with cries of "No wooden gods." The trainbands were ordered to disperse the crowd; but they shared in the popular feeling; and murmurs were heard from the ranks, "We cannot in conscience fight for Popery."* The Elector Palatine was, like James, a sincere and zealous Catholic, and was, like James, the ruler of a Protestant people; but the two princes resembled each other little in temper and understanding. The elector had promised to respect the rights of the church which he found established in his dominions. He had strictly kept his word, and had not suffered himself to be provoked to any violence by the indiscretion of preachers who, in their antipathy to his faith, occasionally forgot the respect which they owed to his person.† He learned, with concern, that great offence had been given to the people of London by the injudicious act of his representative, and, much to his honor, declared that he would forego the privilege to which, as a sovereign prince, he was entitled, rather than endanger the peace of a great city. "I, too," he wrote to James, "have Protestant subjects; and I know with how much caution and delicacy it is necessary that a Catholic prince so situated should act." James, instead of expressing gratitude for this humane and considerate conduct, turned the letter into ridicule before the foreign ministers. It was determined that the elector should have a chapel in the city whether he would or not, and that, if the trainbands refused to do their duty, their place should be supplied by the guards.‡ The effect of these disturbances on trade was serious. The Dutch minister informed the States General that the business of the Exchange was at a stand. The commissioners of the customs reported to the king that, during the month which followed the opening of Lime Street Chapel, the receipt in the port of the Thames had fallen off by some thousands of pounds. Several aldermen, who, though zealous royalists appointed under the new charter, were deeply interested in the commercial prosperity of their city, and loved neither Popery * Ellis Correspondence, April 27, 1686; Barillon, April 19; Citters, April 8; Privy Council Book, March 26; Luttrell's Diary; |