A Sermon Preach'd upon the Occasion of the Anniversary Thanksgiving of the Fifth of November, 1706: at the Church of Kensington

In Short

This sermon is a commemorative address delivered at the Church of Kensington on November 5, 1706. Marking the anniversary of the 1605 Gunpowder Plot, the speaker links that historical event to the more recent "deliverance" of the 1688 Glorious Revolution. It serves as a fervent defense of the English Reformation and a call to national piety. Through its rigid interpretation of history, the text provides a window into the political and religious anxieties of the early 18th century, illustrating how memory was curated to forge a shared national identity.

The Story

The narrative begins with a meditation on Psalm 124, which the speaker uses to frame the survival of the English state as a miracle of divine intervention. The argument is that the Gunpowder Plot was so complex, so "cruel and inhumane," and so carefully concealed that no human intellect could have unmasked it. By portraying the conspirators as agents of a "devilish intention," the speaker emphasizes that the discovery of the plot was a supernatural act. He recounts the horror of the event—the planned destruction of the King, the Lords, and the Commons in a single blast—as a "compendious kind of martyrdom" that would have erased the Reformation in an instant.

The speaker then moves to the central contention: that the Roman Catholic interest, characterized as inherently subversive, must be guarded against with eternal vigilance. He argues that the conspirators were not merely criminals but were driven by a faith that sanctioned "impious projects" and "inhumane practices." By contrasting the supposed cruelty of the conspirators with the mercy of God, he establishes a binary world where the preservation of the Church of England is equated with the preservation of liberty itself.

The arc of the sermon shifts from the 17th-century conspiracy to the events of 1688, describing the arrival of William of Orange as a second, equally miraculous deliverance. The speaker paints a bleak picture of the years immediately preceding 1688, characterizing them as a time of "darkness and despair" where the "ark" of the church was tottering and the nation was being forced into the "chains" of popery. In this telling, the Glorious Revolution was not merely a political maneuver but a divine response to a nation on the brink of losing its identity.

The sermon concludes by connecting these two events as links in a single "chain of Providence." The speaker insists that the anniversary is not just a backward-looking memorial, but a necessary safeguard for the future. He dismisses the idea that the passage of time should dim the memory of these events, arguing instead that the "double blessing" of the day confirms that the English people remain under a "higher and a better aspect" of divine favor. He leaves the congregation with the directive that they must continue to honor these dates to ensure that their history, and their religious identity, remains intact for posterity, effectively tying the survival of the nation to the continued exclusion of the Roman Catholic influence from the corridors of power.

How It Unfolds

The Psalm as Prophecy The speaker opens by asserting that the words of the psalmist are a perfect description of the Gunpowder Plot. He frames the failure of the conspirators as a self-evident sign that the nation is under divine protection.

The Critique of Malice The argument shifts to an analysis of the conspirators’ methods, which the speaker describes as a "wholesale execution" of a community. He paints the plot as an assault on the very foundations of the constitution and the church.

The Failure of Human Wisdom The speaker details how the plot’s discovery happened through a series of "inconsiderable causes" and "accidental hints." He argues that such a result is impossible to attribute to chance and must be the work of God.

The Second Deliverance The focus turns to 1688, framing the arrival of William of Orange as the "second deliverance." He describes the nation’s prior state as one of imminent spiritual and political captivity.

The Call to Memory The sermon ends by urging the congregation to maintain the anniversary as a vital component of national life. He argues that the repetition of the celebration is the only way to prevent the loss of historical memory.

The People

The text is driven by the collective identity of the "English," who are portrayed as the chosen beneficiaries of a divine, watchful care. The speaker, Nathaniel Hough, positions himself as the interpreter of this relationship between the heavens and the state. He presents the "conspirators" as the essential antagonists; they are defined not by their individual names, but by their affiliation with an "order of men" that he claims is inherently deceptive and violent.

Opposite them stands the "gracious Sovereign," representing the stability of the state and the protector of the Reformation. The "Prince" (William of Orange) is depicted as a providential figure who rose from the East to restore light to a darkened land. Each figure in this sermon exists as a symbolic archetype: the conspirator as the architect of ruin, the sovereign as the guardian of liberty, and the congregation as the people who must remain ever-vigilant to keep their "ark" from falling again.

In Its Own Voice

The speaker emphasizes the total destruction intended by the plotters:

A compendious kind of martyrdom This, such as our Church-Historians say nothing of.

He reflects on the perceived danger posed by the Catholic influence during the late 17th century:

Our Ark was actually tottering, and no one could put his Hand forth to uphold it, without feeling Uzziah’s Fate.

He concludes by asserting that the history of these deliverances is essential to the future of England:

May the glad Celebration of it run down to late Posterity, and so keep those Blessings upon perpetual Record.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the construction of a providential national identity. The text argues that the security of the English state is not the result of secular policy or military strength, but of a direct, ongoing partnership with the Divine. By linking the Gunpowder Plot to the Glorious Revolution, the author creates a narrative of "double preservation," suggesting that the nation has been tested and rescued twice. The work explores the tension between human agency and divine design, ultimately concluding that human "foresight" is insufficient to prevent disaster, making constant gratitude and religious vigilance the only appropriate response for a safe and prosperous society.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of rhetoric, 18th-century political theology, or the evolution of British national identity will find this a fascinating, if challenging, artifact. It provides an unfiltered look at the vitriolic anti-Catholic sentiment that defined the period, offering a stark contrast to modern pluralistic values. The prose is ornate and highly stylized, typical of the era’s "elegant" preaching, and requires patience to navigate its dense, archaic sentence structures.

One should not read this looking for a balanced historical account; rather, it is a piece of persuasive oratory designed to stir the passions of a specific audience at a specific moment in time. The experience of reading it feels like stepping directly into the pulpit of a 1706 church, hearing the anxieties of a nation still deeply unsettled by its past religious wars. While its arguments are rigid and frequently polemical, the work remains a powerful example of how historical narratives are crafted to serve the political and religious stability of the present. Its value lies in its transparency—it shows exactly what a certain segment of society believed about their enemies, their God, and their place in history.