disobedience. This simple threat looks poor after the doings of former days, and it shows that intolerance was on the wane. Those who had seen the thunderbolt in the hands of Laud and others would now "hardly be intimidated at the sallies of decrepitude-the impotent darts of Priam amidst the crackling ruins of Troy."+ But there were a few of the Lords who looked with much respect on these accused persons, and treated them with much civility. They inquired where they held their meetings, and promised to come and hear them. It was probably with little expectation of the fulfilment of the promise that these worthies left the House of Lords, but to their surprise on the following Sunday they saw three or four peers entering the Conventicle. The preacher went on in his usual way, and delivered two discourses to his flock on the very principles for the maintenance of which they had so recently been arraigned before the Upper House, to which discourses the noble lords listened with much patience. Nay, further, on the administration of the Lord's Supper, which followed the sermon, these illustrious visitors contributed to the collection; and at the close of the service expressed their satisfaction with what they had witnessed, and their intention to come again. But the presence of nobility at a Nonconformist service being then so marvellous a thing, became the topic of gencral conversation; and fearing that the populace would be excited by a repetition of the visit, these liberal peers were no more seen within the humble place of worship in St. Saviour's, Southwark. *Journal of the House of Lords. See Hallam's Middle Ages, vol. i. p. 448. CHAPTER V. THE BRAVE LORD BROOKE. "Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, AMONG the beautiful rivers that run through the heart of old England, there is one which, though inferior to some of its sister streams in the scenery which adorns its banks, surpasses them all in its rich associations. The world's greatest poet played in his boyhood beside its gentle waters, and gathered the wild flowers which they had moistened and nourished. From the edge of Shakspeare's river, at one of its most picturesque points, there rises, in abrupt grandeur, a massive rock, crowned with a fine speciment of the baronial architecture of the middle ages. The battlemented front, pierced by many a deep window, broken by projecting buttresses, and flanked by lofty machicolated towers, stretches along the water's side, throwing its broad shadow, on a summer's day, over the silvery surface of the river. Dark pines, with their lofty heads, skirt the lordly castle, and with their outspread branches, here and there stooping to touch the water, add to the sombre beauty of the picture. An old mill is seen at the foot of the castle bank, where the rude water-wheel, in its lazy revolutions, throws its flushes over the stream; the weir spreads across from bank to bank, with its murmurs so musical on a quiet summer's evening; and the time-mouldered remains of the ancient bridge, with its broken arches, still span the river. No one who has crossed the Avon, on the road from Leamington to Warwick, and stood by the foot of the new stone bridge, or leaned over the parapet, gazing at the scene on the south side, but must recognize, in the foregoing description, the noble castle of Warwick, on the banks of the Avon. There it stands, a monument of the age when feudal rudeness was giving place to modern refinement, and the baron's stronghold was swelling into the palace of chivalry with its courtly halls, open courts, oriel windows, and richly adorned apartments. When passing through the edifice, or loitering within its precincts, one thinks of the Beauchamps, and of the proud race of Nevil, with its famous king-maker, the Earl of Warwick-of the wonderful doings in the way of hospitality by that prince of hosts, and of the dark deeds of violence that have been enacted within those walls. The place, with its antique grandeur and romantic associations, is one of those scenes which, after being once visited, remains mirrored on the memory forever. But what has Warwick Castle to do with Puritanism and Nonconformity? The following narrative will supply the answer. King James bestowed the castle on Fulke Greville, whom he created Lord Brooke, a man of learning, taste, political importance, and historical celebrity, who chose to transmit his memory to all ages in the well-known epitaph on his tomb in the interesting church of St. Mary, Warwick,-"Fulke Greville, servant to Queen Elizabeth, councillor to King James, and friend to Sir Philip Sidney." He was barbarously murdered by a discontented servant in the year 1628, when his barony and estates descended to his kinsman, Robert Greville. Robert Greville, Lord Brooke, was a man of thoughtful mind, ardent feeling, and high principle. Having received an education suited to his rank, he employed his vigorous intellect in the study of questions relating to theology and ecclesiastical government, and applied the results of his study to the controversies of the times. The character of the patriot was associated with that of the scholar and the theologian, and he looked with a keen eye and an earnest heart to those coming events in the history of his country which were then throwing their long shadows before them. As he sat in his chamber at Warwick Castle, with the New Testament and the earliest documents of ecclesiastical history before him, he saw how different was the simple episcopacy of primitive times from the prelacy of his own day-that Christ's kingdom was not of this world, and that the Church of England was sadly fettered and corrupted by its secular alliance. Musing much upon such matters, he employed his retirement during the parliamentary recess of 1641, in composing" a discourse opening the nature of that episcopacy which is exercised in England." In that little quarto volume may be found a well-digested mass of learning and thought, tinctured, it is true, with severe reflections upon the ecclesiastical abuses of the times. He describes the character of the primitive Bishop as a true and faithful overseer of one congregation, and contrasts with this simple model the prelacy of his own day. He considers that the humble origin of many of the Clergy, and the theological studies which ought to be the chief business of them all, form by no means fitting qualifications for intermeddling with matters of state; and that if, by attention to politics, they prepare themselves for the functions of government, it must be to the neglect of their spiritual duties. He maintains that the combination of civil and religious authority is a burden too heavy to be borne by any shoulders but his on whom God has placed both the world's and the Church's government. The consequences of prelacy this noble polemic touches with a firm hand. The Bishop is dependent on the royal power who creates him, and whose further favor, in the shape of translation to a richer see, he hopes to enjoy; and hence, a spirit of servility is likely to be the consequence. "None," he says, "ought to vote in parliament but free men; but how can they be deemed free who depend on another's thought?" He then grapples with the famous maxim,-No Bishop, no King, and shows that to maintain this, is to weaken if not to break the nerves and ligaments of supreme power; nay, to say that such a government will best suit with monarchy, is to veil its lustre, which can easily assimilate all things to itself, but is not changed by any. He proceeds to inquire what reason there is why Church government, after the Presbyterian or Congregational order, may not subsist with civil monarchy, observing that true Church power "works in a sweet way," and that so long as the Church intermeddleth not with the State, the State ought not to intermeddle with the Church. After advocating the popular election of Congregational Presbyters or Bishops, and their ordination by their brethren, who are all equals in rank, and asserting that ecclesiastical power is vested in the whole people, he answers the objections of those who apprehended confusion would follow from a change in relation to Church affairs, and concludes the work, at which we have thus hastily glanced, with the following passage, which breathes a truly catholic spirit : “When God shall so enlarge a man's heart and unveil |