THE Church of Scotland, whose roll of honour contains some of the greatest names of our country, can scarcely point to a more brilliant debater or more acute writer on ecclesiastical polemics than George Gillespie. In Principal Cunningham’s opinion he was the most learned and conclusive reasoner among the great men who adorned the Church of Scotland at that important era in her history.1 George Gillespie was born at Kirkcaldy in 1613.2 In his sixteenth year he entered the University of St. Andrews, and gave early promise of his future ability. Owing to conscientious objections to the prelatic form of Church government he refused to receive ordination from a bishop, with the result that he could not obtain admission into the ministerial office. During this period he acted as tutor and domestic chaplain in the household of Lord Kenmure until this nobleman’s death in 1634. Afterwards he acted in a similar capacity to the family of the Earl of Cassilis. It was during the tenure of this tutorship that Charles made the attempt to force the Book of Canons upon the Scottish people. The memorable scene in St. Giles, when Jenny Geddes threw her stool at the Dean of Edinburgh, is one of the picturesque events of history, but its chief interest does not lie in its picturesqueness merely, but as an act that interpreted in a rather forcible way the deep-seated hatred of the Scottish people to the new Liturgy. While the country was in an intense state of excitement George Gillespie’s Dispute against the English Popish Ceremonies obtruded upon the Church of Scotland appeared. The work was a remarkable piece of erudition and dialectic skill, coming from the pen of a young man of twenty-four. So great was its effect that the Privy Council commanded all the copies which could be found to be burned. Baillie, in his cautious and timid way, thus refers to Gillespie’s first literary effort: “This same youth is now given out also, by those that should know, for the author of the ‘English Popish Ceremonies,’ whereof we do all marvel, for though he had gotten the papers, and help of the chief of that side, yet the very composition would seem to be far above such an age.” The Dispute against the English Popish Ceremonies is divided into four parts, in each of which the author discusses, respectively, the necessity, expediency, lawfulness, and the indifference of the prelatic ceremonies. In 1638 he received a call from the congregation of Wemyss, and on the 26th of April he was ordained by the Presbytery of Kirkcaldy, the well-known Robert Douglas presiding at the ordination. Gillespie was the first at this period to be admitted to a charge by the Presbytery without the authority of the bishops.
We next find Gillespie preaching before the famous Glasgow Assembly of 1638. Baillie’s account, as usual, is interesting. “After a sermon,” he says, “wherein the youth very learnedly and judiciously, as they say, handled the words, ‘The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord,’ yet did too much encroach on the king’s actions; he (Argyle) gave us a grave admonition to let authority alone, which the Moderator seconded, and we all religiously observed so long as the Assembly lasted.” In 1641 the town of Aberdeen gave him a call, but as he strenuously opposed it he was permitted to remain at Wemyss. The following year, however, an application was made to the General Assembly by Edinburgh to have Gillespie translated to one of the city charges—an application which the Assembly granted—and for the remainder of his brief but brilliant life George Gillespie was known as one of the ministers of Edinburgh. But even though Edinburgh gave wider scope for the talents which he possessed, he was soon to be called to take part in one of the most memorable events in the annals of Presbyterianism. In 1643 Commissioners appeared at the General Assembly from the English Parliament and the Westminster General Assembly, with the purpose of establishing some bond of united action between the two kingdoms in their present critical position. The outcome of these deliberations was the famous Solemn League and Covenant. The General Assembly of the Church of Scotland now, in answer to the request of the English Commissioners, appointed some of their number to attend the meetings of the Westminster General Assembly. The Commissioners appointed were Alexander Henderson, Robert Douglas, Robert Baillie, Samuel Rutherford, and George Gillespie, ministers, with the Earl of Cassilis, Lord Maitland, and Sir Arch. Johnston of Warriston, elders.
The Assembly of Divines first turned its attention to the revision of the Prayer Book, but soon left it and took up the thorny question of Church government. Doctrinally the Assembly of Divines were remarkably united, but on the question of Church government long and wordy debates kept the divines for many a long day ere the matter was finally settled in favour of the Presbyterian polity. These debates revealed three parties in the Assembly—Presbyterians, who were in the majority; Independents, who were few to begin with but latterly increasing in numbers, generally known as the “Five Dissenting Brethren”; and the Erastians, who had only two divines—Coleman and Lightfoot, men of great erudition and dialectic skill—representing them in the Assembly, but who had a strong following in Parliament, with the “learned Selden” as their leader. It was in these debates on Church government that the youthful George Gillespie so signally distinguished himself. He was not abashed to come into the arena with the Colemans, Lightfoots, and the Seldens, with all their weight of patristic and Talmudic lore, and the result proved that he was a foeman worthy of their steel. Baillie, who was an eye-witness of these intellectual encounters, has left on record in glowing terms the keen pleasure he enjoyed as he witnessed the defeat of the English Goliaths at the hands of the Scottish youth. “None in all the company did reason more, and more pertinently, than Mr. Gillespie. That is an excellent youth; my heart blesses God in his behalf. . . . Very learned and acute, Mr. Gillespie, a singular ornament of our Church, than whom not one in the whole Assembly speaks to better purpose, and with better acceptance by all the hearers. . . . Mr. George Gillespie, however, I had a good opinion of his gifts, yet I profess he has much deceived me: of a truth there is no man whose parts in a public dispute I do so admire. He has studied so accurately all the points that ever yet came to our Assembly; he has got so ready, so assured, so solid a way of public debating, that however there be in the Assembly divers very excellent men, yet, in my poor judgment, there is not one who speaks more rationally and to the point than that brave youth has done ever.” There is a picturesque incident in the history of the Assembly which bears out what Baillie has said in the foregoing sentences. The subject of debate was Church discipline. The Independents denied any authoritative excommunication, while the Erastians, admitting such power, placed it in the hands of the civil magistrate. After the arguments of the Independents had been disposed of, the Erastians entered the arena of debate, and their great champion, Selden, came down to the Assembly to deliver one of his ablest speeches. The place of meeting was thronged, and Gillespie, who had been late in coming, had difficulty in pressing his way through the crowd to his place. Finding progress difficult, at last he said, “Can ye not admit a pinning?”1 The appeal was successful, and the “pinning” awaited his time. The subject under discussion was excommunication and the bearing of Matthew xviii. 15-17, on this theme. Selden endeavoured to prove that the passage related to the practice of the Jews in the ordinary civil courts. This position he sought to uphold by a great array of rabbinical learning. The effect of the speech was crushing. Herle and Marshall both attempted a reply, but both signally failed.2 At last some one made an appeal to Gillespie—it is generally believed to be Rutherford: “Rise, George, rise up, man, and defend the right of the Lord Jesus Christ to govern, by His own laws, the Church which He hath purchased with His blood.” Gillespie arose, and by irrefutable arguments proved that the passage did not refer to what was done at a civil court, but was of a purely spiritual nature. When Gillespie sat down the effect of his speech was so great that even Selden acknowledged defeat in the oft-quoted words, “That young man, by this single speech, has swept away the learning of ten years of my life.” Wodrow’s contribution to this incident is worthy of quotation. “When he (Gillespie) was in London he would be often upon his knees; at another time reading and writing. And when he was sitting at that great Assembly at Westminster he was often observed to have a little book, and to be marking down something with his pen in that book, even when some of the most learned men, as Coleman and Selden, were delivering their long and learned orations; and all he was writing was his pithy ejaculations to God; writing these words, Da lucem, Domine; da lucem!” He further tells us that so great was the impression made on the divines by Gillespie, that Calamy, if “he had not been stained by being against our way and judgment for the engagement,”1 says they were ready to think of Mr. Gillespie more than was meet. The Assembly having finished the Directory for Public Worship, Baillie and Gillespie were entrusted to lay it before the General Assembly of 1645. The Directory was accepted by the General Assembly, and Baillie and Gillespie returned to their labours in London.
(To be continued.)
1 “Historical Theology,” i. 58.
2 Vide Hetherington’s “Memoir on the Presbyterian’s Armoury,” i. p. ix.
1 Wodrow informs us that he was called “Malleus Malignantium,” and that it was the testimony of the Earl of Glencairn, after Gillespie had an argument with some of the promoters of the Engagement, “There is no standing before this great and mighty man.”