Anne Bradstreet and Her Time | Page 8

of
sermons, books of devotion, religious tracts and controversial
pamphlets." Sermons abounded, those of Archbishop Usher, Andrews
and Donne being specially valued, while "The Saint's Cordial," of Dr.
Richard Sibbs, and the pious meditations of Bishop Hall were on every
Puritan bookshelf. But few strictly sectarian books appeared, "the
censorship of the press, the right of licensing books being almost
entirely arrogated to himself by the untiring enemy of the
Nonconformists, Laud, Bishop of London, whose watchful eye few
heretical writings could escape.. . . Many of the most ultra pamphlets
and tracts were the prints of foreign presses secretly introduced into the
country without the form of a legal entry at Stationers' Hall."

The same activity which filled the religious world, was found also in
scientific directions and Dr. Harvey's discovery of the circulation of the
blood, and Napier's introduction of logarithms, made a new era for both
medicine and mathematics.
That every pulse of this new tide was felt in the castle at Lempingham
is very evident, in all Anne Bradstreet's work. The busy steward found
time for study and his daughter shared it, and when he revolted against
the incessant round of cares and for a time resigned the position, the
leisure gained was devoted to the same ends. The family removed to
Boston in Lincolnshire, and there an acquaintance was formed which
had permanent influence on the minds of all.
Here dwelt the Rev. John Cotton, vicar of the parish and already
obnoxious to the Bishops.
No man among the Nonconformists had had more brilliant reputation
before the necessity of differing came upon him, and his personal
influence was something phenomenal. To the girl whose sensitive,
eager mind reached out to every thing high and noble he must have
seemed of even rarer stuff than to-day we know him to have been.
At thirteen he had entered Emmanuel College at Cambridge, and
adding distinction to distinction had come at last to be dean of the
college to which he belonged. His knowledge of Greek was minute and
thorough, and he conversed with ease in either Latin or Hebrew. As a
pulpit orator he was famous, and crowds thronged the ancient church of
St. Mary in Cambridge whenever he preached. Here he gave them "the
sort of sermons then in fashion--learned, ornate, pompous, bristling
with epigrams, stuffed with conceits, all set off dramatically by posture,
gesture and voice."
The year in which Anne Dudley was born, had completed the change
which had been slowly working in him and which Tyler describes in
his vivid pages on the theological writers of New England:
"His religious character had been deepening into Puritanism. He had
come to view his own preaching as frivolous, Sadducean, pagan." He

decided to preach one sermon which would show what changes had
come, and the announcement of his intention brought together the usual
throng of under-graduates, fellows and professors who looked for the
usual entertainment. Never was a crowd more deceived. "In preparing
once more to preach to this congregation of worldly and witty folk, he
had resolved to give them a sermon intended to exhibit Jesus Christ
rather than John Cotton. This he did. His hearers were astonished,
disgusted. Not a murmur of applause greeted the several stages of his
discourse as before. They pulled their shovel caps down over their
faces, folded their arms, and sat it out sullenly, amazed that the
promising John Cotton had turned lunatic or Puritan."
Nearly twenty years passed before his energies were transferred to New
England, but the ending of his university career by no means hampered
his work elsewhere. As vicar of St. Botolphs at Boston his influence
deepened with every year, and he grew steadily in knowledge about the
Bible, and in the science of God and man as seen through the dim
goggles of John Calvin.
His power as a preacher was something tremendous, but he remained
undisturbed until the reign of James had ended and the "fatal eye of
Bishop Laud" fell upon him. "It was in 1633 that Laud became primate
of England; which meant, among other things, that nowhere within the
rim of that imperial island was there to be peace or safety any longer
for John Cotton. Some of his friends in high station tried to use
persuasive words with the archbishop on his behalf, but the archbishop
brushed aside their words with an insupportable scorn. The Earl of
Dorset sent a message to Cotton, that if he had only been guilty of
drunkenness or adultery, or any such minor ministerial offence, his
pardon could have been had; but since his crime was Puritanism, he
must flee for his life. So, for his life he fled, dodging his pursuers; and
finally slipping out of England, after innumerable perils, like a hunted
felon;