Tuesday, 25 October 2016

The English Puritans and their children

'My pretty Child, remember well,
you must your ways amend;
For wicked Children go to Hell,
that way their courses tend.'
(Henry Jessey, A looking glass for children, 1673)

The influence of the Reformation and of the slowly gathering strength of the Puritans took far longer to be felt than the effects of the Renaissance on education.  Although the Reformation had immediate consequences in the reign of Henry VIII ,as far as religious doctrine was concerned one of the most profound effects was the general increase in the intensity of religious feeling brought about by sectarian controversy.  This did not begin to show its full effect until the 17th century, when, through the Civil War and Interregnum the beliefs of the Puritan minority had a profound effect on the religious attitudes of the nation.  Nor did the influence of the Puritans on religious life cease after the restoration of the Monarchy in spite of the various Acts of Parliament passed against those who did not conform to the practices of the Church of England; the various Nonconformist sects gained rather than lost strength and from the late 17th century played an increasingly important part in improving social conditions as well as having an important effect on religious attitudes, and children's education.

Puritanism grew steadily in England from the end of the reign of Queen Mary I in 1558 when many Puritans who had gone into exile returned to England.  A prominent Puritan, Hugh Rhodes, wrote a book of courtesy printed in 1577 which is is interesting to compare with the earlier examples.  The advice on manners is much the same, but there is far more advice to parents on the spiritual upbringing of their children.  Rhodes placed great importance on this, like all Puritans, saying: 'The cause of the world being so euill of lyuing as it is, is for lack of vertue, and Godly bringing up of youth.'
He advised parents to keep a very strict watch over where they go and who they meet, to prevent them from becoming corrupted: 

'nor let your Chyldren go whether they will, but know whether they goe, in what company...Take hede they speake no wordes of villany...nor shew them much familiaritye...Mark well what vice they are specially inclined unto, and break it betymes.'.  Of course he advised parents to carechise their children frequently: 'Take them often with you to heare Gods work preached and then enquyyre of them what they heard, and use them to reade in the Bible and other Godly Bokes.'  Rhodes also voices the Puritan prejudice against fairy tales and romances which was to become so general in the 19th century among all right-minded parents and teachers: 'but especially keepe them from reading of fayned fables, vayne fantasyes, and wanton stories and songs of loue, which bring much mischiefe to youth...'
(Hugh Rhodes, The boke of Nurture, or schoole of good manners for men, servants and children...1577 EETS original series no. 32)

 Puritans addressed themselves with a particular sense of urgency to the salvation of children.  Lady Grace Mildmay expressed this sense of responsibility when she wrote: 'It is not possible for parents to be good or to have any virtue in them who seeke not to make theyre children good'
(Lady Grace Mildmay Diary, quoted in Quarterly Review 1911, vol. 15 p.128)

Mrs. Elizabeth Jocelin wrote The Mother's Legacie to her Unborn Child out of this sense of spiritual duty: 'Yet still I thought there was some good office I might do for my Childe more than onely to bring it forth
(tho' it should please God to take me.) When I considered our frailty, our apt inclinations to sin, the Devil's subtilty, and the world's deceitfulness; against these how much desired I to admonish it?'
(Elizabeth Joceline 1625)

In Puritan families adults and children were encouraged to keep spiritual diaries noting their progress towards salvation, or otherwise, and any evidence of divine grace.  (Similarly, Catholic children would be expected to go to Confession.) As a result of this regular diary-keeping many more details of day to day life are available from the 17th century onwards.  Evidence of divine grace seems to have given some diarists trouble, and God is credited with some curious interventions:
'I find we have another mercy to praise the Lord for. Thea has voided abundance of worms, some almost a quarter of a yard long...The Lord be praised'
(Dorothy Oglander to her husband, 1663, in Aspinall-Oglander, Cecil Nunwell Symphony, Hogarth Press, 1945)
 'This last night Matthew fell out of bed, not hurt, a wonderful preservation, blessed bee God, even our God' (Diaries and letters of Philip Henry MA 1631-1696 ed. Matthew Henry Leu, 1882)

At the beginning of the reign of Queen Elizabeth (1558-1603) legislation had been passed requiring heads of families to catechise their children and instruct them in the principles of religion according to the Church of England.  The reasons for this were political, since religious schism was one of the principal causes of political dis-unity in th 17th century.  Most heads of families regarded catechising their children as one of their most important duties towards them, and Puritans were particularly scrupulous about this.  Catechising children is noted regularly in their journals and diaries: 'Nov. 1 1661.  I catechised & instructed my children after supp, and wee had family duty, & went to bed,...'
(Diary of the Rev. Henry Newcome...ed. Thomas Heywood, Chetham Soc. Vol. 18 1849)

Children in Puritan households like that of Mrs.Walker learned to read at an early age, so that they could begin to study their catechism and Bible: 'To promote and forward their religious instruction she taught them to Read as soon as they could pronounce their Letters,.,,and sowed the Seed of early Pious Knowledge in their tender Minds, by a plain, familiar catechism.'
(Anthony Walker The Holy Life of Mrs. E. Walker...1690)

The best known Puritan work addressed to children, which remained in common use throughout the 19th century in both Britain and America is the Nonconformist minister James Janeway's Token for Children, Being an exact account of the conversion, Holy and Exemplary Lives, and Joyful Deaths of several young Children, 1671-2.
(British Library)
This was an attempt to terrify both parents and children into salvation. It contains two prefaces, one addressed to parents asking: 'Are the souls of your children of no value? Are you willing that they should be brands of hell?'  The second preface is addressed to the children:

  'You may now hear (my dear lambs) what other good children have done, and remember how they wept ad prayed by themselves...Did you ever get by yourself and weep for sin and pray for grace and pardon?...How dost thou spend thy time?  Is it is play and idleness, and with wicked children?...Were not these sweet children, which feared God and were dutiful to their parents?...What do you think is become of them, now they are dead and gone? Why, they are gone to heaven, and are saying hallelujahs with the angels...they shall never be sick, or in pain any more...And are you willing to go to hell to be burnt with the devil and his angels?  Would you be in the same condition as naughty children?  Oh hell is a terrible place, that's worse a thousand times than a whipping...Would you not do anything in the world to get Christ, grace and glory?  Did you never hear of a little child that died?  And if other children die, why may you not be sick and die? (James Janeway A Token for Children, 1671-2)

At a time when early death was only too common the effect on sensitive children of constant threats of hellfire may be imagined. John Bunyan, author of The Pilgrim's Progress,  has left one of the best known accounts from this period of his childhood fears of hell:
'Even in my childhood he (God) did scare and affrighten me with fearful dreams...Also I should, at these years, be greatly afflicted and troubled with the thoughts of the fearful torments of hell-fire.  These things, I say, when I was but a child, but nine or ten years old, did so distress my soul that then, in  the midst of my many sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain companions, I was often much cast down and afflicted in my mind.'
Bunyan, however, in spite of the dreadful warning of his nightmares, admits he 'had but few equals (especially considering my years, which were tender, being but few) both for cursing, swearing, lying and blaspheming the holy name of God...'(Bunyan, Grace Abounding, 1666)

Bunyan's account calls to mind the most dramatic of Janeway's little biographies:
 'of a notorious wicked Child, that was taken up from begging, and admirably converted, with an account of his Holy Life and Joyful Death, when he was nine Years old.'
He was, says Janeway, 'a very monster of wickedness, and a thousand times more miserable and vile by his sin than by his poverty.  He was running to hell as soon as he could go, and was old in naughtieness when he was young in years...He would call filthy names, take God's name in vain, curse, and swear, and do almost all kind of mischief, and as to any thing of God's worse than a heathen.' (James Janeway, A Token for Children, 1671-2)

Another well known Nonconformist, Abraham Chear, wrote the well-known To a young Virgin, 1663:

'When by Spectators I am told
what Beauty doth adorn me,
Or in the glass when I behold,how sweetly God did form me.
Hath God such comliness display'd
and on me made to dwell
'Tis pitty such a pretty maid
As I should go to Hell'
(In Henry Jessey A looking-glass for children 1673)

It seems surprising that a strict Nonconformist should encourage a young girl to think about her looks; one of the characteristics of Nonconformist writing for children is that girls were constantly assured that a good nature shining out is all the beauty a face needs.  The first Puritans seem to have believed, until they were undeceived, that good Christian principles are all that is needed and god nature will follow.  But those little children did need lots of reminding:

'My little Cousin, if you'll be
your Uncle's dearest Boy;
You must take heed of every deal
that would your Soul destroy.
You must not curse, nor fight, nor steal
nor spend your time in games,
Nor make a lie, what e'ere you ailes,
nor call ungodly names.
With wicked Children do not play,
for such to Hell will go;
The Devil's children sin all day
but you must not do so.'
(Abraham Chear, 1673 op.cit)

The Nonconformist minister John Angier had a typical Puritan upbringing.  His mother, 'being a choice and gracious Christian, often spake to him of Soul concerns, wept and prayed much for him.'  He experienced religious conviction of being saved at about twelve, but after that he often had doubts which, he says, 'he kept to himself, and often retired into a corner, being ashamed that anyone should know of his heart-grief'  To him this would have been a sign that his spiritual re-birth had not been genuine.  He had a brother with the good Biblical name of Bezaleel.
(Oliver Heywood, Narrative of the life of John Angler, Minister of the Gospel at Denton, 1685,  Chetham Soc.  vol. 97, 1937)

The spiritual sufferings of children were welcomed as signs of their impending spiritual redemption:
 'The briny tears for the natural Death of one very desirable Child were swallowed up by the Tears of Gladness for the lively symptoms of the Spiritual Birth of another...The Pathetick Earnestness with which the Child cried for Pardon and supplies of grace, enflamed and melted all that heard her.'
(The Holy Life of Mrs. E. Walker, 1690)
This child's parents went on to record, with deep satisfaction, their little daughter's spiritual forwardness, much as a modern parent might describe signs of great intelligence:
'About four Years of Age, on days of Prayer and Fasting, she would sit by me the whole Day, and at Prayer hold up her little Hands...' ((op. cit. )

There seems to have been little attempt to distinguish between degrees of sinfulness, the thoughtlessness of childhood being as sure a path to hell as the misdeeds of the most hardened criminal.  Elizabeth Joceline makes a determined effort to equate disobedience with breaking all the Ten Commandments:
...thou canst not bee a disobedient child but thou art a murderer...of thy father...by thy disobedience his gray head brought with sorrow to the grave...'(E. Joceline The mother's legacie to her unborne childe.  1625)
As a result children often became morbidly over-anxious over relatively trivial faults:
'If I desired any thing that was grateful to my Appetite, when it was brought to me I durst not make use of it, because I thought it to be the satisfaction of a base sensual Appetite'  (Walker, op. cit)

'When his child was about five or six years old, she had a new plain Tammy Coat...having looked upon her Coat, how fine she was, she presently went to her Chair, sate down, her tears running down her eyes, and she wept seriously to herself.  Her Mother...said to her, How now? What is the matter that you weep?  The Child answered... I am afraid my fine Cloaths will cast me down to Hell.  Her Mother said, it's not our Cloaths but wicked hearts that hurt us.  She answered, "Aye, Mother, fine Cloaths make our hearts proud."'(Jessey, op. cit)

It is not surprising that  children often had no sense of proportion about their faults when adults accepted such confessions completely seriously. The spiritual sins of the Rev. Ralph Josseline when a child, though unspecified, sound more promising work for the Devil:  '...oh ye strange prodigious unclean lusts when I was yett a child; how often have I walkt with delight to meditate upon such courses, being too well acquainted with those scenes by books which I had; yett I bless God who kept mee from all outw'd uncleanness; praise bee to him, and for this I desire to loath and abhorre my selfe.' (Diary of the Rev. Ralph Josselin 1616-1683, Camden Soc. 3rd series, vol. 15 1908)

The famous reverend Richard Baxter has also listed the chief 'sins' of his youth:
'I was somewhat excessively addicted to play, and that with covetousness, for money.  I was guilty of much idle foolish chat, and imitation of boys in scurrilous foolish words and actions (though I durst not swear)
I was too proud of my masters' commentations for learning.
I was too bold and unreverent towards my parents.'
(Autobiography of Richard Baxter, Reliquiae Baxterianae abridged from the folio, 1696, ed. J.M. Lloyd, 1925)

Like Lydgate, Baxter 'was much addicted to the excessive gluttonous eating of apples and pears...To this end, and to concur with naughty boys that gloried in evil, I have oft gone into other men's orchards and stolen their fruit, when I had enough at home.'  Like most children he loved fairy tales, but as an adult disapproved of them.
'I was extremely bewitched with a love of romances, fables, and old tales, which corrupted my affections and lost my time.' (Baxter op.cit)

The Rev. Henry Newcombe reveals in his diary that as a boy he spent his Sundays 'going nutting' and 'playing bandy ball' (op.cit) and when John Angier went up to Cambridge, away from his mother's influence, he 'fell off to vain companie and loose practises...see the slippperiness of youth.'Oliver Heywood's Life of John Angier, op.cit)

It is something of a relief to read these accounts of backsliding and irreligious behaviour; conformation of the essential normality of Puritan youth.  


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