John Howe felt more difficulties than one; he had not received Episcopal orders, but had been ordained at Winwick, in Lancashire, by the laying on of the hands of the Presbytery; on which account, he used to say, that few had so primitive an ordination as himself. After the Act had passed, Dr. Wilkins expressed his surprise that _a man of Howe's latitude_ should have stood out; to which he replied, that he would gladly have remained in the Establishment, but his _latitude_ was the very thing that made him and kept him a Nonconformist. He said also, "that he could not by any means he fond of a Church, that in reality had no discipline at all, and that he thought that a very considerable objection against the Establishment." In these respects his difficulties were similar to those of Philip Henry. On another occasion, when asked by Seth Ward, then Bishop of Exeter, "Pray, sir, what hurt is there in being _twice_ ordained?" he replied, "Hurt, my lord,--it hurts my understanding; the thought is shocking; it is an absurdity, since nothing can have two beginnings."[361] [Sidenote: EFFECTS OF THE ACT.] We can enter into the struggles which agitated the clergy during the three months before St. Bartholomew's Day. As the corn ripened, and the country Rector sat with his wife in their little parlour,--as they looked out of the latticed window on the children chasing the butterflies in the garden, or picking up daisies on the glebe,--there came the alternative--"we _must_ conform, or leave all this next August;" and, as that necessity stared the Incumbent in the face, it would require, in some cases, a woman's quieter fortitude to reinforce a man's louder resolve.[362] Nor can it be denied, that means of usefulness to some had brighter attractions than home comforts; and that it proved the hardest wrench of all to break the bond between the Christian shepherd and his flock. These men had hearts as well as heads; but in the conflict the victory came from their judgments, not their affections. I remember visiting Scotland more than a quarter of a century ago, just on the eve of the great disruption, and spending an evening at a pleasant manse inhabited by an able minister and his accomplished wife, both of whom were pondering the question of "going out," or "remaining in;" and never can I forget the look of anguish with which they alluded to the impending crisis. The memory of that visit brings vividly to mind many an English parsonage in the year 1662. [Sidenote: 1662.]