YALE
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

RATIONAL THEOLOGY

AND

CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY

" Take away Reason, and all Religions are alike true — as the
Light being removed all things are of one colour." — Preface Gen. to
Collection of H. More's Philosophical Writings.
ho-yif Se op6$ ¦ireiSeaBai, Kai @e$, TairSv eWi — "To obey right Rea
son is the same as to obey God." — Hierocles.

RATIONAL THEOLOGY

AND

CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY
IN ENGLAND
IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

BY
JOHN TULLOCH, D.D.
VEINCIPAL OF ST MARY'S COLLEGE IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF ST ANDREWS
ONE OF HER MAJESTY'S CHAPLAINS FOR SCOTLAND
Author of 'Leaders of the Heformation ' and 'Englisli Puritaniflm
and its Leaders '

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.
Liberal churchmen

SECOND EDITION

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCLXXIV

TO
THE VERY REVEREND
ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D.
DEAN OF WESTMINSTER
THESE VOLUMES
ARE INSCRIBED

PREFACE.

My aim in these volumes has been to describe a
movement hitherto imperfectly understood. In depict
ing the great struggle of the seventeenth century
in England, our historians have very much confined
their view to the two chief parties betwixt whom it
may be said to have been fought out. The religious
forces of the time, which influenced so deeply the
national history, have been roughly classified as
Prelatical on one side, and Puritan on the other.
In point of fact these forces were extremely various
and complicated ; and we still wait an adequate
account of them — -a great history of this great
period, which shall do justice to all the impulses
then moving the national mind, and the powerful
characters which they called forth. We may have
to wait long. The yet unspent prejudices and pas
sions of the struggle, the necessity of at once sym
pathising with and yet critically regarding the most
diverse religious phenomena, and the vast mass of
documentary material which requires to be sifted

vill PREFACE.

and illumined, constitute difficulties in the way of
accomplishing such a task which only the highest
historical genius can surmount.
In the mean time I have endeavoured to sketch
in the following chapters one very significant and
not the least powerful phase in the religious history
of the seventeenth century. At the commencement
of the contest betwixt the Parliament and the King,
there was a moderate party which was neither
Laudian nor Puritan — a party of which the hap
less but heroic Falkland was the head, .and with
which many, if not a majority, of the most thought
ful minds of the country sympathised. This com
bination — which was even then more intellectual
than political — shared the common fate of all
middle parties in a period of revolution. It disap
peared under the pressure of violent passions and
the urgency of taking a side for the King or the
Parliament. But the principles with which it was
identified, and the succession of illustrious men who
belong to it, made a far more powerful impression on
the national mind than has been commonly sup
posed. The clear evidence of this is the virtual
triumph of these principles, rather than those of
either of the extreme parties, at the Revolution of
1688, which — and not the Restoration — was the
natural outcome of the preceding struggle. The
same principles, both in Church and State, have

PREFACE. IX
never since ceased to influence our national thought
and life. Their development constitutes one of
the strongest, and — as it appears to me — one of the
soundest and best strands, in the great thread of
our national history. It is of importance, therefore,
that their origin and primary movement should be
understood. I have spoken of the Latitudinarians of the seven
teenth century as in some degree a party ; but they
are rather, as DoUinger somewhere says of their re
presentatives in our own time, a band or group " of
spiritually-related Savans," than a party in the strict
sense of the term. They pursued common objects,
and so far acted together ; but their combined action
resulted from congruity of ideas, rather than from
any definite, ecclesiastical, or personal aims. It is
the inevitable characteristic of a moderate or liberal
section in Church or State to hold together with
comparative laxity. The very fact of their liber
ality implies a regard to more than one side of any
question — a certain impartiality which refuses to
lend itself to mere blind partisanship, or to that
species of irrational devotion which forms the rude
strength of great parties. This characteristic makes
the action of such a moderating force all the more
valuable ; and it may be safely said that no eccles
iastical or civil organisation would long survive its
elimination. The " Rational " element in all Churches

X PREFACE.
is truly the ideal element — that which raises the
Church above its own little world, and connects it
with the movements of thought, the course of philo
sophy, or the course of science — with all, in fact,
that is most powerful in ordinary human civilisation.
Far from deserving to be expelled and denounced as
merely evil, Rationalism has high and true Christian
uses ; and the Church which has lost all savour of
Rational thought — of the spirit which inquires rather
than asserts — is already effete and ready to perish.
The movement which I have described in these
volumes appears to me the highest movement
of Christian thought in the seventeenth century.
I am far from disparaging the theology and litera
ture of Prelacy or of Puritanism during that event
ful and fruitful period. There is much in both
that still deserves perusal, and may be said to
have permanently moulded and enriched our na
tional intellect. There may be single writers on
either side of more unique genius than any I have
sketched. It is nevertheless true that the stream
of Christian thought runs more free, and rises to a
higher elevation in the Rational Theologians of the
time, than in any others. In the case of the " Cam
bridge Platonists," it is eminently true that, with all
their faults, philosophy in England never reached a
more ideal height — a summit of more pure intellec
tual contemplation — than it did in them. English

PREFACE. XI
philosophy became tainted at the Revolution with
a certain political bias, and it may be a question
how far it is yet emancipated from it. Perhaps it
is least emancipated from such a bias in the school
which is supposed by many to be the most prevalent
and popular amongst us at the present time.
Deeply interested in the principles expounded in
these volumes, and the writers who first advocated
them in England, I have had sincere pleasure
in endeavouring to do some measure of justice to
both the one and the other. I have felt this plea
sure all the more that some of these writers have
hitherto received scanty acknowledgment. It is
something of a misfortune for religion and the his
tory of the Church, that the men who secure most
attention in their own day, and afterwards, are by
no means those distinguished for Christian mod
eration. Violent and picturesque characters, the
fervid and zealous missionary, the eloquent fanatic,
the dogmatic and denunciatory theologian, are all apt
by their prominence to throw men of quiet thought-
fulness and tempered and rational enthusiasm into
the shade. Churchmen like Hales and Whichcote
are forgotten, while the noisy champions of extremes
are remembered and live in the historic page. I
have derived so much pleasure from the repeated
study of Hales and Chillingworth, and again of
Whichcote and his Cambridge compeers, and cherish

Xll PREFACE.
SO warm an admiration of their great gifts of Chris
tian reasonableness, that I should rejoice if I have
done anything to restore the images of men who
appear to me the very best types of the English
theologian — manly and fearless in intellect, while
reverent and cautious in spirit.^
In a time like our own I have thought these
sketches peculiarly appropriate. The questions dis
cussed by the Liberal Theologians of the seventeenth
century, are very much the questions still dis
cussed under the name of Broad- Churchism. Our
present parties have all their representatives in the
earlier period. The closeness of the parallel, not
only in its great lines, but in some of its special fea
tures, must strike every attentive reader. We are
nearer the seventeenth century, not only in our theo
logical questions — supposed by some to be so novel
— but in our scientific theories, than we are apt to
think. And if this should incline any to despair of
^ May I be pardoned for expres- Smith's ' Select Discourses:' and
sing my astonishment that the Cambridge possesses in Mr John
University of Cambridge has done E. B. Mayor, of St John's College,
nothing to give us new or critical a student of the literature of the
editions of any of the Cambridge seventeenth century well qualified
Platonists. There is a special to superintend such a task. All the
difficulty in the case of Henry accessible editions of these works
More, whose writings are at once are poor, and Whichcote's Aphor-
so voluminous and so forgotten ; isms and even his Sermons in a
but surely the Pitt Press would not complete form are scarce. This
be unworthily employed in issuing is hardly fair to writers who did
critical editions of Cudworth's so much to adorn and illustrate
' Intellectual System of the Uni- this great University at a trying
verse,' Whichcote's ' Sermons and period of its history.
Aphorisms,' and, above all, John

PREFACE. Xill

ecclesiastical or theological progress, it may also serve
to convince them that the conditions of real advance
are only to be found in a wide and intelligent com
prehension of all that has gone before, in the spread
of a thorough yet wise criticism, and the increase of
the simplest Christian virtues in every Church —
patience, humility, charity. There are even enlight
ened men now crying out for a new theology, which
shall once more mould into a unity the distracted
experiences of our modern spiritual life. But such a
theology cannot spring from the ground, nor yet de
scend as a ready-made gift from heaven. Christian
Science has far outgrown the efforts of any single
mind. The days of Augustinian dominance are for
ever ended. It can only come from the slow elabo
ration of the Christian Reason, looking before and
after, gathering into its ample thoughtfulness the ex
periences of the Past, as well as the eager aspirations
of the Present.
If these volumes shall help any to understand
better the spiritual problems which harass our own
time, in the attempt which they make to revive the
questions of a time gone by, and to restore the faded
images of thinkers who deserve to be more remem
bered than they have been, my purpose will be
fully served.

St Andrews, September 1^72.

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.

I TAKE this opportunity of gratefully acknowledging
the kindly and appreciative criticisms which these
volumes have received, especially in quarters such
as ' The Princeton Review ' in America, and ' The
Guardian' at home, where the tone and object of the
volumes might have been supposed to be less likely
than in some others to be welcome. Whatever ex
ceptions may have been taken to my manner of
treating the " Rational Theology " of the seventeenth
century, or even to the name itself, the importance of
the subject has been universally recognised, and the
volumes admitted to fill up a comparative blank in our
theological history. This was my main reason for
undertaking the task. I wished to write the history
of a movement highly interesting, as it appeared to
me, both in itself and in relation to our own time,
and which had not been hitherto described — barely,
indeed, recognised. I do not think that I have ex
aggerated the interest of this movement as a dis-

xvi PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.
tinguishing phase of our national religious thought,
nor that I have made more of its significance than
it truly deserves.
In some quarters it has been objected that I have
been somewhat arbitrary in my selection of men as
representatives of the movement, and especially in
not including in my list of Rational Divines certain
Nonconformist names, such as Baxter. But I had
already sketched Baxter at length in a previous
volume on Puritanism, to which phase of our re
ligious life and history he far more distinctly, with
all his Rational impulses, belongs. Moreover, in
both volumes I have confessedly confined myself
in the main to groups of men closely associated by
personal as well as intellectual ties, Stillingfleet in
the first volume is the only exception, and the rea
sons for including him and Jeremy Taylor (whose
connections with the movement are also partial) as
pendants to the Falkland School of Divines have
been fully given. The second volume is really a
monograph. It is devoted to a single school of
thought, and includes every name connected with
it. I could not have added others without de
stroying the historical proportions of the subject.
For the same reason I limited my treatment of
the antecedent or preparatory influences affecting
the movement to a sketch of the Theology of the
Reformation, and the rise and import of Arminf-

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. xvii
anism. The relations of the subject to the Scho
lastic, and still more to the Patristic Theology, were
beyond my province. Mr J. Bass Mullinger of St
John's, Cambridge, in a careful review in ' The Aca
demy,' has drawn attention to my omission of these
relations ; but this omission was simply a necessity of
my dealing with the subject within anything like the
limits I had assigned to myself I was far from in
sensible to the fact that the same forms of thought
had appeared in the Medieval and Patristic Theo
logy, and indeed distinct allusions to these previous
Rational movements will be found in vol. ii. p. 14-24.
This edition has been carefully revised, detailed
tables of contents have been added to both volumes,
and several minute errata which had remained, par
ticularly in the notes, have been corrected.
St Andrews, December 1873.

CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

2-3

I.
SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY IN
PROTESTANTISM.
A. D. PAGE
Complex character of the Reformation, . . . i
Preceding spirit of religious inquiry — Erasmus, Colet,
and others, ......
Dogmatic character of Protestantism — Luther, Calvin,
Knox, ....... 3-10
i$%T etseq. Rational reaction — James Hermann or Arminius, . 10-14
1618. Synod of Dort — Simon Episcopius, . . . 14-15
Arminianism as a dogmatic theory, . . . 16-19
Arminianism as a method of religious inquiry, . 19-25
Three main directions of inquiry, .... 25-26
Scripture, ..... 26-30
Creeds and Confessions, .... 30-34
Fundamental and not fundamental articles of
belief, ...... 34-36

IL
COURSE OF RELIGIOUS OPINION AND PARTIES
IN ENGLAND (1500-1625).
Special character of the English Reformation, . . 37
1500-1536. Rational spirit of the early Oxford movement, . . 38-41
1571. Moderate theology of the Thirty-nine Articles, . . 42
1595. Exceptional character of the Lambeth Articles, . . 43-45

XX

CONTENTS.

Rational spirit chiefly displayed in ecclesiastical questions, 45

The Sacraments,
Orders,
The Church, .
Hooker's Christian Rationalism, .
Growth of " Anglo-Catholicism," .
Rival dogmatisms at the end of sixteenth century,
The " Anglo-Catholic theory,"
The Puritan theory,
1620-1643. Rise of a moderate or liberal party.

46
47-48
49-5 r
52-5354-58
58-59
60-6464-70 7I-7S

IIL
LORD FALKLAND— A MODERATE AND
LIBERAL CHURCH.
Question as to Falkland's character — Clarendon's sketch, 76-77
His distinction as a scholar and liberal thinker, . 77-78
1610-1629. His birth and education, .... 78-85
His early friendships, ..... 85
1630? His marriage — character of Lady Falkland, . . 87-90
His visit to Holland and friendship with Grotius, . 90-91
1632. His retirement to Great Tew, .... 92-93
1633. His father's death, ..... 94
1635-1639. Second retirement to Tew — Convivium Theologicum, 9S-96
Literary associates as described by Suckling, . . 96-98
Selden, ...... 98-100
George Sandys, ..... 100-103
Carew and Davenant, .... 104
Ben Jonson, . . . 104-106
Sir Kenelm Digby, . . 106-108
Sir Francis Wenman, . . . 108-109
Sidney Godolphin, .... 109-110
Edmund Waller, .... iio-m
Suckling and " Wat Montague," . . 111-115
Falkland's Poems, . . . . .115-118
Theological associates, . . . 120
Sheldon and Morley, . 121-124
Hammond, . . . 125-126
Earles, ...... 126-128
Chillingworth, ..... 128-129
1639. Falkland joins the Scottish Expedition, . 129-131
1640-1643, His political career, ... . 132

CONTENTS.

XXl

His activity as a reformer and speaker in Parliament, 134-136
His speech on the bishops and Episcopacy, . . 137-146
His acceptance of office, ... . 146-149
His despair of public affairs, . 149-151
Sept.1643. His death, ... . . 152-153
His personal appearance, .... I53-I54
His significance as the head of the Rational party in,
theChurch, . . . . . i54-i57
His " Discourse of the Infallibility of the Church of
Rome," ...... 157-167
His true attitude as a Church reformer and Rational
thinker, ...... 168-169

IV.
JOHN HALES OF ETON— RELIGION AND
DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY.

1 584-1605. 1612.1618.

1619?

1638.1656.

His general position — oldest of the Falkland group of
divines, ....
His birth and education,
Greek Professor at Oxford,
His visit to Synod of Dort,
Gradual change in his opinions — "bids John Calvin
good-night," ....
Settled at Eton as Fellow of the College,
Correspondence with Chillingworth,
Suckling's lines on him, .
Friends at Eton — Sir Henry Savile,
Sir Henry Wotton, .
Writings attributed to Hales,
Charge of Socinianism, .
Connection with Laud, .
His sufferings and death,
His writings — main principles expounded in them,
Dogmatic differences not religious differences.
Church authority — Tract on Schism,
Tract on the Lord's Supper,
Fallibility of the Church,
Essay on " The Power ofthe Keys,"
His Rationalism,
Value of his writings and services to Christian freedom

170
171-172 172
173-190
190-191 192
193-194 194 19s
196-201
202-205 205-208208-214 214-219
2l() etseq.
223-230 230-234
235-237 237-242242-243243-252
, 254-260

XXU

CONTENTS.

V.

WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH— THE BIBLE
RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS.

THE

A.D.

Chillingworth's prominence in the history of religfous
opinion, .....
1602-1628. His birth and education,
1625, State of religious parties,
Aubrey's gossip about Chillingworth, .
Roman missionaries and Chillingworth's conversion to
Romanism, .....
His reconversion to the Church of England,
1635-1637. His retirement to Falkland's residence, and studies for
his great work, ....
His growing liberality of opinion.
His views as to subscription,
Jesuit pamphlet attacking him, .
1637. ' The Religion of Protestants ' appears.
Appointed Chancellor of Sarum,
1643. Sermon at Oxford before the king.
Present at siege of Gloucester, .
Taken prisoner by the Parliamentary army,
Treatment by Cheynell — a noted Puritan divine,
Jan. 1644. His death, .....
Character and personal appearance,
His great work — its position in literature,
Its argument, .
His disposal of the question of religious latitude.
His services to religious freedom and Protestantism,

261
261-262
263-264 264-269
269-271
272-281 281
283-287 288-289
290-292 292
293
294-295 295
296
296-302 302
304-305 308-317
1X1 etseq.
333-340
341-343

VI.

JEREMY TAYLOR— LIBERTY OF CHRISTIAN
TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH.
Results of the movement as so far described, . . 344-345
Taylor's partial connection with the movement in re
spect of his ' Liberty of Prophesying,' . . 345-347
1626-1633. His education at Cambridge, .... 349-351
1636. His connection with Laud and transference to Oxford, 352
1638-1642. His settlement at Uppingham, and treatise on Episco
pacy,  357

CONTENTS.

xxiu

A.D.
1643-
1 648- 1 660.

1667. 1647.

Driven from his parish by the necessities of the time.
Various writings, .
Evelyn and Taylor,
His episcopate in Ireland,
His death and personal appearance.
' Liberty of Prophesying ' published at a crisis.
Its tenor connected with this crisis.
Its general argument.
Nature of faith.
Nature of heresy.
Creeds,
Remaining particulars of argument,
Taylor's general position identical with that of Chi!
lingworth, ....
Beautiful apologue at the close of the work,

359
361-365 366-367368-370 371
372-376 377
377-380
380-388 388-390 392-395396-406
406-408409-410

VII.
EDWARD STILLINGFLEET— THE IRENICUM
OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH.

Stillingfleet's life not connected with the subject,
1635-1689. Brief account of it.
His general character as a theological writer, .
Keynote of the ' Irenicum,'
1659. Published on the eve of the Restoration,
General design of the treatise, .
Two divisions of its argument, .
(i.) Natural law in its relation to Church gov
ernment, ....
(2.). Scripture in relation to the same, .
Neither Presbytery nor Episcopacy can claim an abso
lute JUS ciivinum, ....
The ideal of a Christian Church,

411
413-415415-416 416 417
417-425 425
425-441 441-444 445-460 462

RATIONAL THEOLOGY

AND

CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY
IN ENGLAND.

SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY IN PROTESTANTISM.
I. The Reformation of religion in the sixteenth
century was the product of many influences — intellec
tual, spiritual, and political. The revival of learning,
the rise of modern literature and higher modes of
philosophy, the rediscovery, as it were, of the Bible,
a widespread excitement and aspiration of faith, the
growth of wider social instincts, and the exigencies
of political parties, were all powerful. It would be
difficult to fix the proportions in which these several
influences acted. For they were intermingled in a
high degree, and the more we go beneath the surface
the more complex and numerous do we find the
springs of the great movement to have been.
A spirit of inquiry is especially conspicuous in the
religious forces which preceded the Reformation, and
VOL. I. A

SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY

helped to forward it. Starting mainly from a revived
Biblical interest, and an eager life of freshly -dis
covered thought, these earlier forces are of a very
interesting and enlightened character. They assailed
the prevailing scholasticism and superstition, not only
with weapons of felicitous criticism and ridicule, but
also with a quiet Christian thoughtfulness which went
in many cases direct to the truth. They brought
the aids both of a new study of Scripture, and of new
intellectual methods to the effort which the Euro
pean mind was making in many quarters to throw
off a bondage which had become intolerable. Eras
mus is the well-known representative of this rational
Christian spirit before the Reformation. But it had
many representatives. The " new learning " was
widely circulated, and can be traced extensively, not
only in Germany and the Low Countries, but also in
Italy and England. Along with Erasmus, and in
some respects before him, must be reckoned John
Wessel, Reuchlin, and Staupitz. The Platonic Aca
demy at Florence, of which Pico and Ficino were the
chief ornaments ; and again Colet, Sir Thomas More,
Tyndale, and others in England, were all more or
less Reformers before the Reformation — agents in a
movement antecedent to the great movement which
was essentially religious, if also a great deal more
than religious. The success of the later and more
powerful movement has drawn attention away
from this earlier impulse of reform. But it was in
many respects highly significant, and deserves a
closer study than it has yet received. It spoke of
harmonising Christianity and natural truth ; of inter-

IN PROTESTANTISM.

preting the books of Scripture like other books ; of
simplifying Christian doctrine to the limits of the
Apostles' Creed ; of putting the Bible before every
thing, and being content with the simple truths evi
dently set forth in it as necessary to salvation. It
was broad and tolerant as well as earnest. It aimed
at spiritual enlightenment rather than dogmatic
change.^ When we turn to the great Reformers themselves,
these principles of intellectual freedom no longer
occupy the foreground. No doubt they too carried
forward the higher intelligence of their age. They
were the leaders, upon the whole, of its best thought.
But their special task was not so much to guide
thought as to stimulate religious life. They were,
above all, men of faith and of Christian enthusiasm.
They were religious before everything else ; and
what they desired for themselves and others was not
primarily rational liberty so much as spiritual sal
vation. Their hearts and consciences were more
awakened in search of peace than their minds in
search of truth. They preached yet more earnestly
the necessity of deliverance from the burden of guilt
and sin than from the oppression of medieval dotage
and ignorance. It is impossible to read the writings
or study the lives of Luther, Calvin, and Knox, with
out seeing that their main interests were thus evan
gelical, and turned round the great question of how
1 See ' Oxford Reformers,' by form in England ; also, ' Reform-
Frederic Seebohm, p. 112-489 — a ers before the Reformation,' by
very interesting volume, describ- Dr C. Ullmann, passim.
ing the earlier movement of re-

SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY

the individual soul was to be reconciled with God
and find peace in Him. Popery was specially ob
noxious to them because it had obscured and per
verted the answer to this question. St Paul was
specially dear to them because he had given to it
such an articulate and satisfactory answer.
And undoubtedly It needed this mightier impulse
of faith to break the superstitious sleep of centuries.
The earlier spirit of reform, with its quieter intellec
tual impulses, could not have accomplished the same
result. The voice of Erasmus would never have
moved Europe as the voice of Luther did. It
needed the cry of the evangelist rather than the
inquiry of the Biblical critic and rational theologian
to penetrate to the popular heart and shake the
religious thraldom which had so long oppressed it.
It was only by the spiritual forces outrunning the
intellectual — ^the enthusiasm of faith so largely ab
sorbing the mere love of light — that the Reformation
grew into such significance and became a power in
Europe. This subsidence of the rational side of Protes
tantism arose not only from the character of the
chief Reformers and the real nature of their work ;
it was also in the end the natural result of their
position. The very strength of the spiritual excite
ment which they had roused needed by-and-by to be
curbed. The tide of religious passion swelled till it
threatened to burst all bounds and to subvert the
order of society. Luther himself had to struggle
against his own headlong impulses, and Carlstadt
came in his wake. He was forced to forget the

IN PROTESTANTISM. 5
Pope while he declaimed against his theological col
league and the Zwickau fanatics ; and Calvin recog
nised his most persistent and hated opponents in the
Libertines at Geneva, who strove continually to cross
his purposes. It was absolutely necessary, there
fore, to set a restraint upon the impulses of inquiry,
and to break in the spirit of freedom which in its
licence menaced the very existence of the Church.
And so the very men who had headed the en
thusiastic forces of the Reformation, as they broke
down the old barriers of authority and spread them
selves as springs of religious revolution throughout
Europe, are found ere long busy in collecting,
consolidating, and placing anew under authority the
spiritual energies which they had everywhere called
forth. When we thus look at all the circumstances we
have no difficulty in understanding — what may seem
otherwise surprising — the extremely dogmatic char
acter which Protestantism soon assumed. This ten
dency lay in it from the beginning, in its intense
assertion of one side of the evangelical principle —
what the Germans call the material, in contradistinc
tion to the formal side. If the spiritual life which
the movement had evoked was not to be wasted, but
to grow into a social and educative power, it must
incarnate itself in dogma and take to itself a legisla
tive and controlling, as well as quickening, function
towards the human conscience. The national Pro
testant Churches could never have made a stand
against the reviving influence of Rome — could never,
in fact, have been formed into stable organisations at

SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY

all — without a distinctive basis of Christian opinion
and a definite power of discipline. And so it came
to pass that in the second stage of the Reformation
the principle of authority had almost entirely super
seded the principle of inquiry. The men of dogma
have everywhere come to the front. Luther, always
opinionative, grew more violently so from the time
of his conflicts with the Anabaptists and his confer
ence with Zwingli (1529). Zwingli himself, of all
the leaders of the movement the most candid, ra
tional, and open - minded, perished prematurely.
Melanchthon and Castellio almost alone remained
representatives of the earlier humanistic spirit. But
the former was overborne by the rabies theologorum,
bred of a hardening Lutheranism ; and the latter had
no chance with Calvin. The prevailing Protestant
ism of the sixteenth century set aside both these
men. Its scholastic dogmatism repudiated the one,
its evangelical earnestness the other. While the
fate of Servetus was a terrible warning to all who
might attempt to carry the rational spirit to extreme
lengths, and to venture into speculations not only
beyond the verge of Augustinianism, but of tradi
tionary theology altogether.
In the second half of the sixteenth century, Protes
tantism is almost stationary in its character as in its
progress. It has grown into Churches which from
this time make little advance. It has consolidated
its theology, which henceforth receives few or no
additions. All the great Protestant creeds, with two
exceptions, which rather" illustrate than contradict
our statement, were completed long before the end

IN PROTESTANTISM.

of the century.^ The men who formed them had
no doubts nor hesitations. They were dogmatists,
and not inquirers. They set forth what they believed
to be a definite system of truth against a definite
system of error. In nothing did they ask, what is
truth ? and remain in any question whether they had
found an answer. They confidently opposed dog
matism to dogmatism. And for a time the question
ing intellectual side of Protestantism may be said to
have sunk out of sight altogether.
But it was in the very nature of the movement, as
well as in the course of events, that the rational side
of Protestantism should again ere long emerge. In
Lutheranism, indeed, this was not to be the case till
after a long while ; and then in a form of extreme
reaction proportioned to the depression which it had
undergone. The miseries of the Thirty Years' War,
still more the unhappy influence exerted by Luther's
personal name and authority, and the barren con
troversies arising out of the minuter adjustments of
his theological system, destroyed for a time all genu
ine activity of thought in the Lutheran Church. A
more deplorable period of religious contention than
that which attended and followed the death of Mel
anchthon is scarcely to be found. It is spoken of by
the Germans themselves as a new scholastic epoch,
from the similarity which its absurd and wasteful
argumentativeness presents to that of the age pre-
1 The series of Lutheran sym- all connected with the movement
bolic books was summed up by of the sixteenth century were in
the ' Formula of Concord ' in existence before this, and even
1577. Of the numerous Confes- early in the preceding decade.
sions of the Reformed Church,

SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY

ceding the Reformation. The baleful effects of this
dogmatic frivolity and bigotry extended far into the
next century. With an exception like Calixtus,^
there can hardly be said to be a living theological
thinker in Germany from Luther to Bengel.^ This
should be borne in mind in connection with the later
history of German theology. The home of rational
thought was certainly not in Germany in the earlier
times of Protestantism. We must look elsewhere
for its reappearance.
If Lutheran theology rapidly hardened into dog
matism, Calvinism was intensely dogmatic from the
beginning. Calvin was a far more powerful and
consistent theologian than Luther. His conceptions
of Christian doctrine were at once more clear and
more definitely and thoroughly organised. Adopting
the same great outlines of Augustinianism, which it
never occurred either to him or Luther to question,
he elaborated them, if not with a more penetrative
and profound insight, yet with far more logical co
herence and proportion. He put every relative
dogma in its place with legal exactness, and adjusted
all the parts of the theological system so completely
that he left no room among his followers for the
host of minor disputes which infested the Lutheran
Church. But this very completeness of the Cal-
vinian dogmatism prepared the way for a reaction.
Satisfactory in the highest degree to those who
accepted its main principles and identified them
without hesitation with the teaching of St Paul, to
other minds of a less unquestioning character it left
'¦ 1586-1656. 2 1687-1752.

IN PROTESTANTISM.

no scope for the free play of Christian thought, while
its stern logical consecutiveness directly tended to
grate against the edge of this thought. The system,
in short, broke down just where its triumphant logic
topped its highest summit. The doctrine of absolute
Predestination was the keystone of the whole. Augus
tine himself had not shrunk from the most extreme
consequences of this doctrine, and neither did Calvin.
But these consequences were such as to revolt many
minds more Christian, so to speak, than logical. The
very enthusiasm of spiritual feeling which made their
own religious interests so vital to them, drew them
back from the results of a logic which seemed harsh
and unchristian. They felt there must be a flaw
somewhere in a system which, however consecutive,
terminated in such results. For, after all, the idea
of the divine benevolence is as essential as that of
the divine omnipotence ; and if we cannot separate
from God the thought of absolute will, neither can
we separate from Him the thought of absolute good.
The same Grace which on one side issues in predes-
tinarian Determinism — saving whom it will according
to its own elective arbitration or " mere good plea
sure" — on the other side takes the form of divine
Love which instinctively desires the good of all, and
" wills all men to be saved." ^
It was inevitable, therefore, that a reaction should
spring up against the rigidity of the Calvinian doc
trine; and such a reaction was all the more likely
the more this doctrine had touched the national life
of a people and become one of its mainsprings of
1 I Tim. ii. 4.

10 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
action. The very stimulus which it thus gave to
the religious and moral consciousness was sure in
course of time to call forth opposition. There was
only required some free life and energy of thought
to develop it. This is exactly as we find the fact to
be. No national life, upon the whole, had been so
powerfully moved by Calvinism as that of Holland
or the Low Countries, where for more than a century
before the Reformation evangelical principles had
been widely circulated. Calvinism gathered up these
principles, and stamped them in the Belgic ^ Confes
sion with its most rigorous and earnest impress. It
suited the religious genius of the country ; it nursed
the heroic character of William of Orange ; and
inspired the popular mind with that proud desire
of national independence which maintained itself
unshaken in one of the sternest and grandest
struggles which patriotism has ever waged, and in
its indomitable enthusiasm proved more than a
match for all the intrigue and cruelty of Philip II.
Here, where its intellectual and political action was
so vigorous, are discovered the first traces of oppo
sition to it, and the ultimate development of a for
midable rival system.
II. This opposition did not commence within the
universities or among professional theologians, al
though it speedily spread to both. It was started
first of all, or at least first attracted prominent atten-
* The Belgic Confession was, in and German ; and in 1566 it was
the first instance, a private docu- adopted in a condensed form by
ment, composed in French by the Synod of Antwerp. It was
Guido de Bres in 1562. It was finally approved, after revision, by
subsequently published in Dutch the Synod of Dort.

IN PROTESTANTISM. n

tion, in the writings of a layman,^ whose Christian
sensibilities were repelled by the doctrine of pre
destination. Notwithstanding the attempts made to
convince him of his errors, he remained obstinate,
and was finally proclaimed a heretic. Out of this
movement there arose in 1586 a demand for a formal
revision of the Belgic Confession. The question
was taken up by two ministers at Delft, who in the
course of their arguments started a distinction which
became in itself a fresh element of controversy.
The necessities of logic compelled them to ask
whether the divine decree had reference to the fall
of man, and specially embraced it, or, so to speak,
only came into operation after and dependently upon
this great event. The former of these views became
known as Supralapsarianism, the latter as Infra-
lapsarianism.^ It was in these circumstances that
James Hermann or Harmensen — better known as
Arminius^ — had his attention specially called to the
subject. He was invited to undertake the defence of
the doctrine ofhis master Beza, thus assailed and mis
interpreted. But, as sometimes happens, the chosen
defender became the most serious impugner of Cal
vinism. Arminius in the course of his inquiries gra
dually lost faith in the old doctrine, and passed even
beyond the modified position of the Delfian^ theolo-
^ Theodore Comheert, who was sui, posterior eam lapsui subor-
not alone in his opposition, but dinet. Illa prseordinat eam lapsui
his name has come prominently to ne Deum insipientem faciat : haec
the front in the movement. subordinat, ne Deum injustum
" ' Episcopius Instit.' v. thus de- faciat, i.e., lapsus auctorem."
fines these rival theories : "Prior ' 1560-1609.
pi'Eedestinationem prasordinet lap- * Delf is the old name of Delft.

12 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
gians to a more decided attitude of hostility towards
it. He became the leader of a distinguished group
of Anti-Calvinists, as his name has been taken to
stamp the movement which he first made prominent
with its enduring historical title.
Whatever may be thought of the system of theo
logy known as Arminianism, beyond question Armi
nius himself was a man not only of clear head and
rare culture, but of earnest practical piety. He
had received a singularly elaborate education both in
philosophy and in theology, having studied not only
at Utrecht and Leyden in his own country, but with
Beza at Geneva and Grynaeus at Basle. At the
latter place he had so distinguished himself that the
theological Faculty wished to confer upon him the
degree of Doctor in Divinity, although he was only
twenty - two years of age — an honour which he
sensibly declined. To his varied mental acquisitions
and acquaintance with the state of theological study
in these great Protestant centres, he superadded the
advantages of travel in Italy. He visited Rome,
and resided for some time at the University of
Padua chiefly for the sake of pursuing his philo
sophical studies under the guidance of Zabarella,
whose name at this time drew many students to
that ancient seat of learning. During all his foreign
travels and studies he seems to have lived a frugal
and earnest life, carrying with him, we are told,
" for the exercise of piety, his Greek Testament and
Hebrew Psalter. "^ After a further brief residence
at Geneva, he returned to Holland in 1587, and
' Funeral Oration by P. Bertius.

IN PROTESTANTISM.

13

became one of the ministers of Amsterdam. At
first received with some disfavour on account of
his supposed intercourse with the Papal authorities
while at Rome, he soon obtained great popularity
by his gifts as a preacher. To clearness and
force of judgment he united a singularly winning
and persuasive eloquence. His voice is spoken
of as slender but touching in its modulations and
capacity of adapting itself to the varying themes of
his discourse. None heard him but confessed them
selves moved, enlightened, and sharpened in their
religious thoughts. A certain sharpening quality —
quick, decisive, and polishing in its effects — like a
whetstone or file, seems to have been his distinguish
ing characteristic.! Pastors and preachers, as well
as ordinary citizens, flocked to hear him, and wel
comed with admiration his instructions.
It was while quietly pursuing this career of useful
ness and popularity that Arminius was called upon
to adjudicate regarding the doctrine in which he had
been taught. And the more he occupied himself
with the subject the more did he see cause to mod
ify the conclusions of Calvin and Beza. He cor
responded with Francis Junius, then Professor of
1 "Fuit enim in illo incredi- ut ex iis fluere videretur. . . .Alii
bilis quaedam gravitas lepore tem- tuiic ipsum limam veritatis, alii
parata, vox gracilis quidem, sed ingeniorum, cotem, alii novaculam
suavis, et canora et penetrans, succrescentum errorum appella-
suada vero admirabilis. Si quid bant, nihilque in Religione, aut
exornandum esse, faciebat ita, ut sacra Theologia sapere credeba-
verum non excederet ; si docen- tur cui Arminius non saperet."
dum, perspicue, si disserendum —Oratio P. Bertii de vita et obitu
distincte. Jam cantus ille et flexus D. Jac. Arminii — Opera Arminii,
vocis ita erat rebus accomodatus Leyden, 1629.

14 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
Theology at Leyden ; continued with unremitting
ardour his Biblical researches ; and pondered deeply
the questions of liberty and necessity. Gradually
his change of sentiments began to show itself in his
sermons, and he was more than once accused of a
defection from Reformed orthodoxy. It was not,
however, till his appointment in 1603 to succeed his
friend Junius at Leyden, that formal opposition broke
out betwixt him and the orthodox party, headed
by Francis Gomar, his colleague in the university.
Arminius charged Gomar with so teaching the doc
trine of predestination as to make God the author of
sin ; Gomar, on the other hand, accused Arminius of
Pelagianism, or, in other words, of so exalting the
human element in redemption as to obscure or de
stroy altogether the doctrine of divine grace. A
general synod was convoked in 1606 with the view
of settling the controversy ; later, a conference was
held betwixt the two main disputants themselves, —
but all was without effect. Theological rancour had
been thoroughly roused ; the watchwords of the con
flict circulated amongst the clergy and people, and
were bandied to and fro in the pulpit, the senate,
and the market-place, as in the early days of the
Trinitarian controversy. Political interests and rival
ries mingled in the agitation and complicated the
result. The disturbance prevailed not only in Hol
land, but spread violently to England and other
countries. The Synod of Dort in 1618, while giving
an authoritative deliverance on the questions in
volved, which was accepted by the main sections of
the Reformed Church, yet by this very act, as well

IN PROTESTANTISM. 1 5

as by its course of procedure, served to deepen and
give consistency to the schism. For the Arminians,
or Remonstrants ! as they were called, were thus
driven to form a separate organisation, and to per
petuate their special theological views in schools
and institutions of their own. It was not till 1630
that they were fully tolerated, and allowed peaceably
to reside in the cities and villages of Holland.
Arminius himself soon passed away from the strife —
he died in 1609 ; but his successor, Simon Episcopius,
brought all the resources of a marvellous temper and
address, as well as a most accomplished erudition, to
the aid of the party, while he gave to its principles a
more systematic elaboration than Arminius himself
was probably capable of imparting to them. It was
upon this distinguished leader that the defence of
the Remonstrants devolved at the Synod of Dort ;
and one at least of the addresses which he delivered
on this occasion is marked by the highest qualities
of enlightened reason and comprehensive charity. ^
^ They were sp called from hav- hactenus defendimus, innocen-
ing addressed a Remonstrance in tiam, aut illa cadente, reportemus
five articles to the States-General veritatis victoriam : Tam enim
of Holland and West Friesland accessimus parati vinci, quam
in 1610. vincere ; utrum enim ceciderit
^ The conclusion ofthis address, sine fructu non erit: Non enim
which will be found afterwards vinci pudet eum, qui pro damno
alluded to and partly quoted in erroneje sententise veritatis luc-
Hales' Letters, amply bears out rum quserit, nihilque aliud sibi
what we say. A fairer and more propositum habet, quam ex veri-
Christian spirit expressed in more tatis consecutione conscientias suae
sententious and admirable lan- solidam pacem et tranquillita-
guage it would be difficult to con- tem. Quisquis non eo animo
ceive. — "Alterum enim duorum accedit, ut quibus minime favet
censequuturos nos speramus, ut possit absolvere, et quos unice
aut probemus causae nostras, quam amat condemnare, nae ille indig-

l6 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
The distinctive principles of Arminianism all take
their start from the fundamental modification of the
cardinal doctrine of predestination initiated by Armin
ius, and in connection with which the whole move
ment arose. The divine decree to which human
salvation is to be attributed was, according to
Calvin's conception, absolute and irresistible. It
implied a divine partition of the human race into
saved and not saved, originating in the pure will
and determination of God. The decisiveness of
the decree was quite as real on the negative as on
the positive side. The Reprobate, as they were
called, were as definitely marked out as the Saved.
The whole drama of the moral world, in short, in its
antagonism of good and evil, hung upon the abso
lute fiat of an Almighty Will. The Delfian theolo
gians had so far sought to modify this tremendous
doctrine as to exclude from the sphere of the divine
Determinism the origin of evil, or, in other words,
the event of the Fall. Arminius passed beyond this
modification, which merely conditioned the divine
nus est, qui in hoc consessu suf- Belgio Remonstrantes vocantur,
fragium ferat. Amicus esse debet super praecipuis articulis Reli-
Plato, amicus Socrates, amica gionis Christianae,' with its inter-
Synodus, sed magis amica Veritas." esting preface addressed to the
—Opera Theol. Pars Sec. p. 4. general reader; and further, of the
Episcopius was not only the elaborate 'Apologia pro Confes-
theological head of Arminianism sione Remonstrantium.' The Con-
in succession to his friend and fession was composed during his
teacher Arminius, but, above all exile in Brabant, following the
others, its literary and organising Synod of Dort, and was published
genius. Besides various minor in 1622. The apology appeared
treatises all bearing upon the con- after his return to Holland in
troversy, he was the author of the 1626, with the first remission of
' Confessio siveDeclaratiosenten- the civil persecution against the
tise Pastorum, qui in Foederato Remonstrants.

IN PROTESTANTISM. \J
by one inscrutable human act, and extended the con
ditioning process more or less to all human acts. In
other words, he passed out of the pure sphere of the
divine to which Calvin and his followers tended to
confine their view, and brought prominently forward
the free activity of the human will, as a co-determi
nant in the work of salvation.^ The essential dif
ference that remained was as to the character and
measure of this co-determination, for even the most
rigorous Calvinism could not exclude it altogether.
Was the primary, preponderant, and truly condition
ing element in salvation with man or with God ? It
was the idea on the part of the Calvinists that the
principles of Arminius virtually implied the denial of
divine grace, and transferred the work of salvation
both in its origin and execution from God to man,
that made them accuse him of Pelagianism, and
excited such a stormy enthusiasm against the party.
The logical suspicion was a justification of religious
earnestness, but not of unchristian violence. Again,
it was the idea on the part of the Arminians that
the Calvinism of Beza and Gomar converted the
divine will into mere fate, or an arbitrary instead
of a moral and loving activity, and so made God the
1 Bertius thus describes the tionis et prsviso lapsu, quosdam,
theological position of Arminius citra antecedentem rationem Jesu
in contrast both with that of Beza Christi, quod volebant fratres Del-
and the Delfian theologians : De- fenses : sed ex creatis et lapsis
cretum scilicet Dei sternum in eos, qui vocanti Deo vera fidei
Praedestinatione non esse eligere obedientia responsuri essent, quod
praecise et absolute ad salutem ab eruditissimo Melanchthone, et
quosdam, quos nondum decrevis- Nicolao Hemingio, et aliis per-
set creare ; quod voluit D. Beza : multis Theologis adsertum est.
neque vero, posito decreto crea-
VOL. I. ^

SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY

author of sin, which kindled the intensity of their
opposition, and made them suffer all manner of hard
ness rather than yield their convictions. They were
right in vindicating the voluntary and ethical side of
religion, but it does not follow that they were right
in their interpretation and denunciation of their
opponents' system.
It is no part of our intention, and would be quite
beside our purpose, to enter into any consideration
of the relative truth or value of these rival theologies.
The connection of our subject with Arminianism is
entirely apart from the validity or invalidity of its
special dogmatic theories. It must be confessed by
impartial thinkers that these theories look pale and
dubious across the distance at which we contemplate
them. Using the same logical weapons, and not
shrinking from their application to the deepest mys
teries of the divine action, Arminianism does not
certainly succeed in explaining these mysteries, or
making intelligible the rationale of the divine action
in the work of salvation, any better than Calvinism ;
while the latter has the great advantage of being a
more powerful and coherent system. It starts from
the higher divine side, and argues out courageously
and organically its conclusions towards divine ends.
If we are to theorise at all about such rnatters,
and not at once recognise that our forms of logic
or scientific statement are incompetent to deal with
them, then Calvinism may be pronounced the higher
theory of the two. Arminianism breaks down in
its logic ; while it uses with a confidence quite equal

IN PROTESTANTISM. ig

to its antagonist the weapon which pierces its own
side. But Arminianism was a great deal more than a
dogmatic theory. It was also, or at least it rapidly
became, a method of religious inquiry. The method
grew out of the necessities of the system, instead of
forming the system in the ordinary manner, but soon
became its most vital element, and has alone given
to it enduring significance in the history of Christian
thought. It revived the suppressed rational side of
the original Protestant movement, and, for the first
time, organised it into a definite power, and assigned
it its due place both in theology and the Church.
It was inevitable that Arminianism should make a
new appeal to the intellectual side of Protestantism.
It could only make good its form of doctrine, and
vindicate its position within the Reformed Churches,
by Biblical inquiry and argument. Its beginning,
we have seen, was in the reaction of the Chris
tian feeling against the oppression of the Calvin-
istic doctrine. It sprang from the moral rather
than from the intellectual side of the Protestant
Christian consciousness. But it could not make a
movement at all, still less could this movement
assume force and significance, without a new and
direct appeal to Scripture. And no sooner, there
fore, was the spiritual difficulty, started by others,
taken up and pursued by Arminius, than it plunged
him into a fresh and elaborate course of Biblical
inquiry. He felt that he must retrace all his dog
matic theories in the light of Scripture, and bring

20 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
them again to its test. And this renewed spirit of
Scriptural inquiry was more fully taken up by
Episcopius. Its rules were worked out, and its
applications pursued and methodised.
Protestantism had started on its course with an
appeal to Scripture, loudly proclaimed. It had con
fronted the Pope with the Bible, and the right of all
to interpret its contents and search for the truth
therein. But the process of inquiry thus initiated
had been rapidly arrested by the necessities of the
age. Nay, it had never been fairly and fully car
ried out. Neither Luther nor Calvin had suc
ceeded in approaching Scripture with free and
unbiassed minds. Both read it under the influence
of Augustinian prepossessions, which directed and
coloured all the course of their interpretations.
Zwingli and Melanchthon brought more open and
truly rational minds to the study of the Bible ; but,
in the crisis which ensued, neither of them gave
the prevailing impress to the confessional theology
of the Protestant Churches. This theology, in its
main types, was entirely cast in the mould of the
great theologian of the fifth century, who had com
municated his thoughts to Western Christendom
with such force that they have never since ceased
vitally to influence it.
But not only was the process of Biblical inquiry
thus specially modified and limited in the outset
of the Reformation ; it was directly hindered and
brought to a temporary conclusion by the course
of things. The question of authority became so
urgent that everything else was comparatively

IN PROTESTANTISM. 21

forgotten. An exacting demand was made upon
all the Protestant Churches to give an account
of themselves — of the definite doctrines which they
taught and the principles for which they claimed to
exist ; not only with reference to the Roman Catholi
cism which they repudiated, but to the civil commu
nities in which they sought to establish themselves,
and the social and ecclesiastical necessities which
they professed to satisfy. Hence the multiplicity of
creeds or confessions following the Reformation-
one of the most extraordinary phenomena in Chris
tian history, the full significance of which has hardly
been appreciated. Within a period of about thirty
years, Protestant Christendom added upwards of
twenty confessions to the three creeds which had
hitherto satisfied the Christian Church. Lutheran
ism was content with one main confession, to which,
however, it speedily added four supplementary and
explanatory documents. But in the Reformed
Churches confession rapidly followed confession till
their number reached a goodly volume, less than
one page of which would contain the creed which
the united Christendom of the East and West in the
fourth century judged to be amply adequate for all
purposes of Christian communion, denouncing an
anathema upon those who should venture to impose
anything further upon the Christian conscience. ^
^ In Niemeyer's ' CoUectio Con- In addition to the Augsburg
fessionum in Ecclesiis Reformatis' Confession, which may be said to
there are reckoned twenty-eight begin the series of Protestant
distinctconfessions,someofwhich, creeds in 1530, Lutheranism re-
however, are of later date than the cognises among its symbolical
period to which we refer. books the ' Apology of the Confes-

22 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
This mass of confessional theology was the result of
temporary exigencies. The Churches of the Refor
mation could not well help themselves or avoid the
task thrown upon them. But it exercised at the
time, and has continued to exercise, an injurious
influence upon the development of Christian thought.
It did so then in two ways. It exhausted too
rapidly the spirit of religious research, and left the
theological mind at the close of the sixteenth century
— as the medieval theology had done before — to
feed only upon results, instead of carrying on with
ever fresh light the study of Scripture. It intro
duced a new reign of traditionalism. But it not only
tended thus directly to diminish the power of reli
gious inquiry ; it encompassed its exercise with
difficulties, and even dangers. Theologians were
warned, as by so many fences, from approaching
Scripture save through the medium of dogmatic con
clusions already reached. These conclusions speedily
came to be identified with Scripture itself, and to
take something of its direct authority. Nay, with
that natural tendency which lies in all men and all
Churches to love and prefer their own things before
all others, and to impart the highest religious sanc
tion to the familiar formulae of childhood and of
Christian habit, the dogmas of each Church came to
acquire to the popular mind a special sacredness
which it has been always comparatively slow to
accord to the more simple and concrete statements
of Scripture. It was the theory of the Reformation
sion,' the ' Articles of Smalkald,' mula of Concord, already noticed
Luther's Catechisms, and the For- as closing the series in 1577.

IN PROTESTANTISM. 23

Churches, no doubt — as it remains the theory of all
Protestant Churches to this day — that their confes
sions only possess authority in so far as they repre
sent the Word of God, and that they are conse
quently subject to revision with advancing learning
and experience. But no theory was ever more in
operative. In point of fact the confession becomes
the measure of the Word of God, and not the Word
of God the measure of the confession ; ^ and no
national Protestant Church, so far as we know, has
ever ventured deliberately to revise its confession.
Such, then, was the position of Protestantism in the
end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seven
teenth century. Its spiritual impulse, on the Con
tinent at least, was already spent. Its theology had
become a tradition of Augustinianism, with certain
Lutheran and Calvinian accretions polemically ad
justed to the errors of Popery. Within the German
Church there raged a spirit of blind contentiousness,
which had wellnigh eaten all heart out of the noble
teaching of Luther and Melanchthon. Within the
Reformed Churches, such theologians as Beza and
Melville and Gomar, all of an essentially polemical
temper and an inferior order of spiritual genius, had
taken the place of Zwingli and Calvin and Knox.
These men were not only not inquirers any more
than Luther and Calvin had been, but they were
^ " Immota fidei norma seu doc- liceat, puta neque in rebus neque
trinse regula per eam cuiquam in phrasibus, imo neque in me-
praescribaturquaescilicetconscien- thodo aut modo docendi." — Pre-
tias hominum coram Deo prascise face to Confession of Remon-
obliget et proinde a qua nemini strants, Opera Episcopii, ii.. Pars
unquam vel levissime discedere Sec. p. 73.

24 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
destitute of the elevation of mind and the dignity
and grandeur of spirit which made the dogmatism of
the great German and Swiss Reformers tolerable.
They were confessional theologians — men who had
grown up under the shadow of the new dogmatism
rather than originated or formed it.
It admits of no question that the confessionalism
of the Reformed Churches was already beginning,
before the close of the century of the Reformation,
to burden Christian minds which had not lost all
sense of freedom — in which any trace of the original
Protestant spirit survived. This is clearly seen in
the writings of the early Arminians. The preface
to the Remonstrant Confession, drawn up after the
Synod of Dort, is little else than an elaborate apol
ogy for the very idea of a new confession ; and the
apologist only succeeds in his object by virtually
abandoning the principle of confessions altogether.
He explains at length that there was no intention of
placing any further imposition upon the conscience,
but only of indicating the sense and meaning in
which he and others — the Remonstrants — understood
Scripture. In this respect confessions are declared
to be useful, as indices or guides of Christian opinion,
but not as compulsory enactments. As such they
had already done much harm. The setting forth of
so many symbols and forms of belief had hindered
Christian inquiry, impeded Christian liberty, and
opened the way to factions and schisms in the
Church.! The authority of Scripture had been
thereby " more and more weakened, until at length
* Ibid., p. 69.

IN PROTESTANTISM. 25
it had fallen away and been transferred to these
human formularies as more perfect." ^ All judg
ments and opinions pertaining to religion had become
so associated with these formularies, and dependent
upon them, that " men, waiving and undervaluing the
sacred Scripture, appealed to them as unexception
able rules; and he that swerved but a fingers-breadth
from them, although moved thereto by a reverence
for Scripture itself, was, without any farther proof,
accused and condemned of heresy." ^
Arminianism became the special and formal outlet
for all this mental uneasiness in Protestantism. The
long - suppressed stream of religious thought burst
forth afresh, when once the wall of Augustinian
dogmatism was fairly breached. The living waters,
not only of a broader spiritual feeling and a concil
iatory instead of dividing doctrinism, but of critical
and speculative inquiry, began to flow. A rational
spirit sprang up, and developed itself rapidly under
all obstacles. And although this same spirit has
frequently spent itself in arid tracts of mere intel
lectualism, or wandered into morasses of vulgar and
superficial rationalism, it has never since altogether
ceased. Its presence may be traced in all the sub
sequent development of Protestantism, in a nobler
and more comprehensive thoughtfulness and fresh
ening life, if also here and there in a weakened
and reduced Christianity and defective religious
interest. This renewed manifestation of the rational spirit
in Protestantism touched three points, or assumed
1 Ibid., p. 69. " Ibid.

26 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
three main directions, all significant and important :
I. Scripture; 2. The authority of the Church in the
interpretation of Scripture, or the whole subject
of creeds and confessions ; and, 3. A point to which
we have not hitherto alluded, but which became,
as will be seen, one of the most influential in the
course of rational religious thought, — namely, the
limits of dogma, or the distinction between funda
mental and not fundamental articles of Christian
belief I. The Arminians recognised the supreme au
thority of Scripture no less than the Calvinists, and
equally traced the element of authority in it not to
any decree of the Church, or acceptance by the
Church of the several canonical books, but to the
revealed doctrine itself in its " admirable force and
efficacy." ^ The truth of Scripture was held as de
claring itself, and in the very fact of doing so, mak
ing known to the mind and conscience " its auto
cratical or absolute and supreme power." ^ It shone
forth, in short, as an authoritative light by its own
intrinsic lustre. This " divine-like authority " be
longs to nothing else ; and by the Scriptures alone,
therefore, " as by touchstones and firm immovable
rules, must all controversies and debates in religion
be tried and examined, and according to them de
cided, so as to leave the judgment of truth finally to
God alone speaking in His own Word." ^ So far
there was no difference in the Biblical theory of the
two parties. There was no question raised as yet
by the most forward theological intelligence as to
1 Confessio Remons., c. i. 7. ' Ibid., i. 9. ' Ibid., i. 10.

IN PROTESTANTISM. 27
the character of divine inspiration, or the relative
divine value of the various books of the Bible. The
patristic traditions as to the composition of these
books, their organic connection, uniform meaning,
and equivalent authority, remained as yet unbroken.
Historical criticism in the modern sense was not
born till much later, although we can trace its tenta
tive and imperfect beginnings in Episcopius, Grotius,
and others. By the time of its birth Arminianism
had long ceased to have any significance as a dis
tinctive phase of Christian thought ; but it is never
theless true that a more purely grammatical and
historical exegesis, which may be said to be, if not
the parent, yet the lineal predecessor of that great
instrument of modern thought, took its rise in the
Arminian school, and was greatly helped by the
intellectual and literary influences which proceeded
from it.^
But while agreeing in their general theory as to
Scripture, the Arminians and Calvinists differed in
their application of the theory, and the difference
^ The Remonstrant Confession ceeds in emphatic language : "But
emphasises in a very marked man- to desire to fetch or take this ex-
ner the necessity of interpreting position from any other author,
Scripture in the same manner as head, or fountain whatsoever — to
any other book, according to its wit, from any symbol or creed of
" native and literal sense " — un- men's making, or analogy of faith
derstanding by this not merely in this or that place received, or
the bare sense of separate pas- any public confession of Churches,
sages, but the meaning "agree- or from the decrees of councils,
able to right reason and the very or consent of Fathers one or other,
mind and intention of him that though even the most or great-
uttered the words" (Con., c. i. 16). est part of them— is a thing too
This is surely something like an uncertain, and oftentimes dan-
anticipation of the critico-histori- gerous." — Confessio Remons.,
cal method. The document pro- i. 17'

28 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
proved very important. The Calvinists recognised
in Scripture not merely an authoritative guide to
the reason and the conscience, but a coactive and
constraining power over the reason and conscience.
The authority of Scripture, said the Arminians, is
merely " directive." ^ It is the witness of the Holy
Spirit in the divine Word ; but it can only be
brought near to the individual and become operative
by his own free inquiry and assent. The infallibility
of Scripture, in short, to the one was an embodied
rule — a " coactive decision," ^ which the Church was
entitled to apply to heretics and dissenters from the
common orthodoxy. To the other it was nothing
more than a private judgment, which all might reach
for themselves — which all honestly inquiring minds
did reach for themselves. It was not, and could
not be, an external power capable of being wielded
by the Church ; and any claim to exercise such
a power was strongly repudiated. This proved
one of the main points of disagreement betwixt the
two parties. Such a private liberty of interpreting
Scripture — of " prophesying," as it was called — was
intolerable to the Calvinists of the seventeenth cen
tury ; ^ all the more that they felt the logical pinch
of the conclusion involved. For where was the
right of private judgment at all save in this form ?
If the truth of Scripture is to be infallibly declared
and enforced in the teaching of the orthodox, where
is the essential difference betwixt the Protestant and
1 Confessio Remons., i. lo. against pretended Liberty of Con-
' Rutherford, Exam. Armin., c. science, in reply to Jer. Taylor
1. I. and others, /awzV«.
^ Rutherford's Free Disputation

IN PROTESTANTISM. 29
the Papal infallibility ? The Calvinian dogmatist
was ready with the reply that his judgment was
" according to Scripture," ^ and only claimed force
as such ; and that if such a claim was not allowed
there could be no end of controversy in the Church.
But then this was the very point in question — which
judgment was really according to Scripture ? The
Arminian was no less sturdy in his dogmatism so
far, that his was the truly Scriptural judgment. And
so the question was brought back to the point
from which it should have started. Was private
judgment really the right of all ? Were the indivi
dual reason and conscience absolutely free in the
light of the divine Word ? Theoretically Calvinism
professed to hold the affirmative, which was a pri
mary postulate of the Reformation ; and there is
nothing in any of the Protestant confessions at vari
ance with it. But in point of fact, orthodox Protest
antism in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
did not remain true to its own principle, or carry it
out consistently to its conclusion. Arminianism
attempted to do so, and so far, while elevating
Scripture to the same supremacy as Calvinism,
differed from it in its estimate of this supremacy.
The supreme authority of Scripture, however
nominally recognised, could hardly be maintained
practically in the face of the numerous Confessions
which had already settled and proclaimed its mean
ing. A Protestantism which had elaborated and con
cluded its theology in the most minute points, natu
rally fell back upon its own work, and in all cases of
^ Ruth. Exam. Armin., c. i. 5.

30 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
controversy interposed the secondary authority, which
it had set up, as virtually absolute. The primacy of
Scripture remained a dogma among other dogmas,
but it ceased to have any living influence. Armin
ianism sought to revive this influence, and to reassert
in its full meaning the principle of private judgment,
or the indefeasible right of every man to examine
and decide the truth of Scripture for himself It
recognised no other rule of faith even as subordinate ^
— no interpretation of Scripture, however profitable,
or invested with whatever sanction, as entitled to
come between the soul and the divine Word. In
the face of all the opposition which it encountered,
it asserted incessantly, and tried to work out in all
its practical applications, the great truth — recognised,
indeed, but unrealised by other phases of Protestant
ism — that " God alone is Lord ofthe conscience."
2. In carrying out this truth it was led to attack
the whole system of confessions. It prepared, in
deed, a confession of its own ; but in doing so, it
expressly repudiated any claim to do more than
draw out an expository and vindicatory document.
Symbols and confessions, it held, according to their
true meaning, and even their ancient usage, to have
no other design but to testify, not what was to be
believed, but what the authors of them themselves
believed. 2 They were not to be received as " certain
indices or discoverers, much less as judges of the
^ Pref. to Confession, Opera modi Symbola, Canones Ecclesi-
Episcopii, ii., Pars Sec. p. 71. asticos, Confessiones et Declara-
' " Et sane si priscos Ecclesiae tiones fidei suae ediderunt, quam
annales consulamus, non aliud ut per eas testatum facerent, non
fuit consilium, non alius scopus quid credendum esset, sed quid
aut finis eorum, qui primi ejus ipsi crederent." — Va\A.,-\^. 71 etseq.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 47
nified.^ Such an expression, for example, as " blood
in the chalice," he admitted in a certain sense to be
true, but only ''by grace in a sacrament." He clung
to the patristic language, and got into confusion and
apparent materialism from doing so ; but there could
be no doubt that he rejected any corporeal pre
sence, or efficacy in the mere rite. The grace of
the sacrament, he says, " is not included in it, bvit
to those that receive it well it is turned to grace."
Jewel, who alone besides Hooker of the Elizabe
than divines can be said to be a systematic writer,
is equally, if not more clearly, rational in his
sacramentarian teaching. The bread and wine are
with him, in the usual language, " the holy and
heavenly mysteries of the body and blood of Christ,"
and Christ Himself is received by them through
faith. He is present and given in them, as He is
present and given in His Word. But there is no
singular or corporeal presence of Him in the Euchar
ist. " It is not the bodily mouth, but faith alone
that receives and embraces Christ's body." ^
(2.) The question of Orders was freely discussed,
and a whole catena of evidence might be adduced to
show the liberal direction which, for the most part, the
discussion took. Cranmer's opinions are well known.
He denied the distinction of presbyter and bishop, and
seems even to have questioned the distinctive char
acter and independence ofthe sacred office altogether.
' Augustine may be said to have as follows : " In sacramentis vid-
been the author of this principle, endum est, non quid sint sed quid
which is quoted from him by significent."
Jewel (iii. 497, Park. Soe. ed.) ^ iii. 488, Park. Soe. ¦5^

48 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
A priest, he contended, might be validly constituted
by the supreme civil power, in virtue of the authority
committed to It, and also by the people in virtue of
their election.^ Jewel was no less Erastian. Those
who speak of themselves as being the only true
Church he compares to the Scribes and Pharisees,
who cried — " The temple of the Lord, the temple
ofthe Lord," and "cracked that they 'werQ Abraham s
children." God's grace, he added, is not promised
to sees and successions, but to them that fear God.
Becon, a voluminous writer, who was chaplain to
Cranmer, and the author of one of the " Homilies,"
no less explicitly denied the distinction between
bishop and presbyter, and advocated the old practice
of appointing ministers by popular election ; ^ while
Hooker, in conformity with all the principles of his
great work, maintained that "there may be some
times very just and sufficient reason to allow ordina
tion made without a bishop."^ But apart from all such
special testimonies, the liberal views of the Church of
England In the sixteenth century on the subject of
Orders are notorious. The correspondence carried on
betwixt Cranmer and Parker on the one hand, and the
Reformed divines on the other, prove beyond all
reasonable controversy that the question of Episcopal
1 His words are: "A bishop the bishops. The questions and
may make a priest by the Scrip- answers are to be found in Bur-
ture, and so may princes and gov- net's History of the Reformation,
ernors also, and that by the autho- vol. i., and also in Collier's Eccl.
rity of God committed to them, History.
and the people also by their elec- ^ iii. 46.
tion." This is one of his answers ' Eccl., B. vii. c. 14, ii. "Ordin-
to the famous series of questions arily," however, it is the function of
propounded by Henry VIII. to bishops "alone to ordain."— Ibid.

IN PROTESTANTISM. 33
position — might " contain gold, and precious rubies
and sapphires, although there was no gold in the
matter of the pitcher Itself, but only clay." ^ The
infallible truth, no doubt, may be hidden as treasure
in the earthly vessel of the Church, like gems in a
pitcher of clay. But then this is not the question.
The real analogy Is not with the truth thus treas
ured in the Church, but with the truth expressed
and formulated by human argument. Every pro
position of fallible men must share In their fallibility ;
and there is no escape from this save by leaving the
divine truth in its original form In Scripture. The
gems may remain pure and precious within their en
closure, but not when broken up and mixed with
common clay.
Supposing the Church capable of giving infallible
decisions "according to Scripture," It may well be
supposed also capable of applying and enforcing
them. The element of compulsion was ultimately
traced to God, yet ministerially it was held to belong
to the Church, or to the civil magistrate as the exe
cutive of the Church. It was the duty of the magis
trate " to take order that unity and peace be pre
served in the Church, that the truth of God be kept
pure and entire, and that all blasphemies and heresies
be suppressed." ^ It was allowed, indeed, that com
pulsion could not make men religious, or change their
beliefs. Conscience, where It did not manifest itself
" by elicit acts," was not to be muzzled or enforced.^
' Rutherford's Free Disputa- c. xxiii. 3.
tions, &c., p. 35. ^ Ruth. Free Dis., p. 23.
^ Westminster Con. of Faith,
VOL. I. C

34 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY
This would have been an inquisitorial tyranny too
intolerable. But all expressed opinions at variance
with those of the Church were not only to be re
proved, but forcibly repressed. God has given even
to a single pastor, far more to a synod of pastors and
doctors, power to rebuke with authority ^ — to lay on
burdens and decrees.^ Whoever will not hear an
ambassador, virtually refuses to hear the prince who
has sent him. Whoever despises the minister of
God, despises God Himself And when offenders
were obstinate, and heretics hardened, they were to
be handed over without mercy to the civil magistrate
for punishment ; if necessary, for punishment unto
death. This was a conclusion, as is well known,
from which none of the Reformers, not even Me
lanchthon, shrank, and which was strongly maintained
in England even in the middle of the seventeenth
century.^ All this system of confessional and Church autho
rity was vigorously attacked by Arminianism. The
principle of private judgment, consistently carried
out and applied without reserve, swept it away,
although not without a long- continued and violent
struggle. 3. But perhaps the most significant and solvent
of all the rational principles enunciated by Arminian
ism was the distinction betwixt fundamental and non-
fundamental doctrines. This distinction not only
assailed the narrowness and stringency of the pre
vailing Protestant dogmatism, but the whole idea
upon which dogmatism, whether Roman Catholic or
'¦ 2 Tim. iv. I, 2. ' Acts, xv. 28. ' Free Dis., p. 177-200.

IN PROTESTANTISM. 35
Protestant, was built. And there is abundant evi
dence, as in the case of Chillingworth's opponent,
Knott, that the Roman Catholics, no less than the
Calvinists and Puritans, felt the force of this assault.
It raised the vital question as to the essential char
acter of Christianity and the conditions of Christian
communion. Did any series of dogmas, after all,
constitute Christianity ? Was it not rather a per
sonal belief in one or two great facts — " a very few
things, which alone are precisely necessary to be
known and believed for the obtaining of eternal
life?"^ And has the Church right to insist upon
anything beyond the acknowledgment of these facts
as its formal basis ? Is the profession of any doc
trinal belief or theological creed at all necessary to
Christian communion ? The Arminians inclined to
answer these last questions in the negative. The
only fundamental truths, they maintained, were the
facts lying at the basis of Christianity as con
tained in the language of Scripture, or, at the utmost,
as expressed In the Apostles' Creed. They not only
refused to move the sphere of authority beyond
Scripture, but they strove to bring the compass of
faith within the simple bounds of the primitive
Church.^ As we proceed we shall find ample evi
dence of the working of this fruitful principle, and
of the earnestness with which it was taken up and
advocated by our series of rational divines.
These several forces of free opinion, or, more truly,
several manifestations of the same right of free in
quiry, reappear again and again, sometimes in a de-
1 Pref. to Con., p. 72. ' Acts, viii. 37 ; xvi. 31.

36 SPIRIT OF RATIONAL INQUIRY.
sultory, sometimes in a more organic form. Pro
testantism found in them its full meaning, and gra
dually they have leavened the spirit of modern
thought. Holland continued their chief home in
the seventeenth century; but they found a conge
nial soil in the minds of a few of the most distin
guished members of the Church of England, and
grew up, amidst many difficulties, into a party which
has never ceased to influence it and the character
of English religious opinion. Special causes have
also nursed a rational spirit within the bosom of
the English Church, It sprang, and continues to
spring, naturally out of its constitution. But in its
origin it was greatly indebted to the movement of
the Dutch Remonstrants, and can only be under
stood fully in connection with it, and the general
course of Protestant thought, which in this chapter
we have endeavoured to sketch.

37

IL

COURSE OF RELIGIOUS OPINION AND PARTIES
IN ENGLAND (1500-1625).
I. The Reformation In England was singular
amongst the great religious movements of the six
teenth century. It was the least heroic of them all
— the least swayed by religious passion, or moulded
and governed by spiritual and theological necessities.
From a general point of view, it looks at first little
more than a great political change. The exigencies
of royal passion, and the dubious Impulses of state
craft, seem its moving and really powerful springs.
But, regarded more closely, we recognise a significant
train both of religious and critical forces at work.
The lust and avarice of Henry, the policy of Crom
well, and the vacillations of the leading clergy,
attract prominent notice; but there may be traced
beneath the surface a widespread evangelical fer
vour amongst the people, and, above all, a genuine
spiritual earnestness and excitement of thought at
the universities.
These higher influences preside at the first birth
of the movement. They are seen In active opera
tion long before the reforming task was taken up
by the Court and the bishops, and bring before us.

38 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
In truth, one of the most interesting phases of that
earlier and more purely Biblical spirit of inquiry
which almost everywhere ushered in the Reforma
tion. In England, with the opening of the sixteenth
century we find genuine and decided manifestations
of an awakening of religious life, of a new tone of
religious thought, and of a desire to renovate the
Church, and deliver theology and the study of the
Scriptures from the bondage of scholasticism. Colet
and Tyndale are the most conspicuous representatives
of this early movement. The first initiated it by his
lectures on St Paul at Oxford,^ and his active co
operation with Erasmus in the promotion of the
"new learning;" the second carried it on by his
self-denying devotion and persevering labours in the
English translation of the Scriptures till the year of
his martyrdom (1536). Around these names there
are others less distinguished, such as Bilney and
Frith, all earnest students of Scripture, and all ani
mated by an enlightened reforming zeal drawn from
Its pages.
The spirit of this movement was at once highly
rational and evangelical. It is impossible to read
Colet or Tyndale without recognising that a deep-
seated love of truth and vital power of divine
faith moved them in all they did. Not less than
either Luther or Calvin they owned the reality of the
evangelical principle, of the necessity of penetrating
beyond all means of grace or accessories of devotion
to the very life of communion with God in Christ.
Colet had learned from the study of his beloved St
" 1497-1505?

FROM THE REFORMATION. 39
Paul to look up from him to the " wonderful majesty
of Christ ; and loyalty to Christ was the ruling
passion of his life." ^ Tyndale's whole being was
inspired by the ardour of self-sacrifice for the holy
Evangel. But with all this evangelical enthusiasm
and fire of spiritual zeal, there was In both an admir
able sobriety, candour, and fairness of theological
temper. They approached the study of Scripture
with their minds thoroughly cleared of the old for
mal scholasticism, and desiring simply to read the
divine meaning in its own light and purity. They
fixed boldly upon the fact that it could only have
one consistent meaning, in contrast to the scho
lastic nonsense of a fourfold sense — " literal, tropolo-
gical, allegorical, and anagogical." " Twenty doc
tors," said Tyndale, will " expound one text twenty
ways, as children make descant upon plain song.
Then our sophisters, . . . with an ante-theme of
half an inch, will draw out a thread of nine days
long. Yea, thou shalt find enough that will preach
Christ and prove whatsoever point of the faith
thou wilt, as well out of a fable of Ovid or any
other poet as out of St John's Gospel or Paul's
Epistles." 2
Colet in his lectures on the Romans, which Tyn
dale probably heard at Oxford in the first years of
the century, at once threw aside all this scholastic
trifling, and tried to bring his hearers face to face
with the living mind of the apostle. To a priest
who came to him for some hints in his studies, he
said, " Open your book and we will see how many
1 Seebohm, Oxf. Ref., p. 105. ^ Tyndale's Works, 1573. P- 168.

40 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
and what golden truths we can gather from the first
chapter only of the Epistle to the Romans."^ He
loved to point out, more after the manner of the
nineteenth than the sixteenth century, the per
sonal traits in St Paul's writings — his " vehemence
of speaking," which did not give him time to perfect
his sentences — the rare prudence and tact with
which he balanced his words to meet the needs of
«
the different classes addressed — his " modesty,"
" toleration," self-denial, and consideration for others
— and the reality of application there was in many
of his sayings to the circumstances of the times. ^
He recognised, even largely, a principle of accommo
dation In Scripture — as in the Mosaic account of the
creation, and St Paul's statements about marriage.
He showed himself in his doctrinal conclusions Inde
pendent of Augustinianism ; and, while emphasising
the necessity of divine grace, kept clear of the abso
lute decree, and the extreme tenet of the bondage of
the will.^ He came at last to find the trQe sum
of Christian theology in the simple facts of the
Apostles' Creed. To the young theological students
who " came to him in despair, on the point of throw
ing up theological study altogether, because of the
vexed questions In which they found it involved,
and dreading lest they might be found unorthodox,
he was wont to say, ' Keep firmly to the Bible and
the Apostles' Creed, and let divines, if they like, dis
pute about the rest' " *
Tyndale, if animated by a more profound and
^ Seebohm, p. 43. ^ Ibid., p. 83.
^ Ibid., p. 35. * Ibid., p. 105, 106.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 41

energetic evangelical feeling than Colet, was less
liberal in his theology. His leanings were Augus
tinian, even of a somewhat strong type. Yet he
is almost equally clear and rational in his method
of Scriptural exposition. " Scripture has but one
sense," he says, " which is the literal sense. This
literal sense is the root and ground of all."^ "There
is no story, seem it never so simple, but that
thou shalt find therein spirit, and life, and edifica
tion In the literal sense. For it is God's Scripture
written for thy learning and comfort." ^ Of the
sacraments, he says, " There is none other virtue
in them than to testify and exhibit to the senses and
understanding the covenants and promises made In
Christ's blood." And therefore, " where the sacra
ments or ceremonies are not rightly understood,
there they be clean unprofitable." ^ The same
enlightened spirit is expressed in his general defini
tion of the Church " as the whole multitude of re
penting sinners that believe In Christ, and put all
their trust In the mercy of God, feeling in their
hearts that God for Christ's sake loveth them." *
The rational spirit is sufficiently conspicuous in
these early traces of the Reformation in England ;
and although It cannot be said in Its subsequent
development to have been true to the broader
theology of Colet, yet it retained something of
its original breadth. This is seen in the doc
trinal basis which it finally accepted. The prepa
ration of this basis may be said to begin with the
1 Works, p. 166. ' Ibid., p. 44i-
" Ibid., p. 169. * Ibid., p. 257.

42 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
termination of the earlier movement of reform,
and it lasted more or less actively for upwards of
thirty years till the settlement of the Articles In their
present number and form in 1571.-^ The theology
of these Articles is conciliatory and moderate. The
great question of predestination, round which the
theological thought of the Reformation everywhere
circulated. Is handled in a strictly Scriptural manner
without argument, or any attempt to draw out the
divine fact In Its negative as well as its positive slde.^
The same thing may be said of the definitions in the
Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth Articles on Free
will, Justification, and Good Works. An enlight
ened and clear perception of the truth, and yet a
cautious moderation both of thought and language,
characterise these significant propositions ; and if the
darkened tone and exaggerations of Augustinianism
may be found In the Thirteenth Article, this is almost
the only case in which they occur. Nowhere was
the theology of the sixteenth century capable of
doing justice to the virtues of the heathens, or of
rising to the philosophic comprehension of the an
cient Alexandrian school. In this respect, as in
some others, the mere dominance of the Western
Church had marred its theology, and Imparted to
it an exclusive and negative character. The defini
tion ofthe "Church" in the Nineteenth Article is
strictly Scriptural, and strikes at the root of all

* The first series of Ten Articles finally, in 1571, reduced to their
date as far back as 1536. They present number of Thirty-nine,
were afterwards, in 1552, expand- ' Art. XVII.
ed into Forty-two Articles ; and

FROM THE REFORMATION. 43

illiberal ecclesiasticism. And if the question of
"authority" cannot be said to be fully cleared up
in the Article which follows, it is yet stated with
admirable balance. The Church has " authority in
controversies of faith ; and yet It is not lawful for
the Church to ordain anything that is contrary to
God's Word written, neither may It so expound
one place of Scripture that It be repugnant to an
other." In other words, the Church has power to
settle Its own doctrine ; but this power can only be
legitimately exercised in consistency with Scripture
and reason.
The same moderate type of doctrine, inclining
upon the whole to Augustinianism, but free from
many of Its exaggerations, Is found to distinguish
the chief English theologians of the sixteenth cen
tury — from Cranmer to Hooker. The " Homilies "
are mainly practical, and, where they diverge Into
doctrine, they are not extreme ; and the homily on
the reading of Scripture is remarkable for the use
of an expression which has since become prominent
in connection with the advancement of a spirit of
rational religious inquiry. In Scripture, It says, " is
contained God's true Word."
The most memorable exception to this fair and
conciliatory doctrinism of the Church of England in
the century of the Reformation, Is to be found in
the famous Lambeth Articles, prepared at a confer
ence called by Whitgift in the year 1595. Certain
attacks had been made both at Oxford and Cam
bridge upon the tenet of predestination, the effect of
which so much alarmed not only Whitgift, but others

44 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
of the bishops, as to surprise them into the most
intemperate and painful expression of predestinar-
ianlsm anywhere to be found in the shape of a creed. ^
It is true that almost every word of the nine Lam
beth propositions is to be found in the Articles agreed
upon by the archbishops and bishops, and the rest of
the clergy of Ireland, in 1615 ; and through these
Articles, probably, much of the phraseology passed
into the Westminster Confession of Faith. But
neither in the "Irish Articles," nor in the Confession
of Faith, are the logical inferences drawn from the
primary predestinarian affirmation presented In so
naked, abrupt, and coarse a manner ; while the
ninth and concluding statement of the Lambeth
series stands absolutely alone in its appalling sim
plicity. ^ It may be an explanation of the Lambeth
^ There seems at this time to Dean of Ely and the Queen's
have been a simultaneous excite- Divinity Professor at Cambridge,
ment at both the universities on and others, concurred with the
the subject of Calvinism. A Archbishop in framing the Arti-
preacher of the name of Barrett cles. The want of moderation so
at Oxford had got into difficulties apparent in their language is at-
with the university authorities tributed by Sir Philip Warwick
and complained to the Arch- (Mem., p. 86) to Fletcher, Bishop
bishop ; while at Cambridge there of London. The Archbishop of
was a keen controversy on the York, Dr Hutton, was unable to
subject between the two Profes- attend the conference, but he
sors of Divinity. Whitgift him- afterwards approved of the posi-
self stated to the Queen that tions laid down, which, he added,
"the design of the Lambeth Ar- "may be collected from the Holy
tides was only to settle some Scriptures either expressly or by
propositions to be sent to Cam- necessary consequence, and also
bridge for quieting some un- from the writings of St Augus-
happy differences in that uni- tine."
versity." — Collier's Eccl. Hist, Mt is briefly as follows : "/if «
part ii. b. vii. The Bishops of not in the will and power of every
London and of Bangor, with the man to be saved."

FROM THE REFORMATION. 45
theology that all the successive propositions are
strictly deducible from the initiative or major pre
miss, which is no less virtually contained In the pre
sent Thirty-nine Articles ; but this is no justification
of the attempt to draw out such a theology into the
form of a creed, nor does it really alter Its harsh,
unmoral, and (In the concluding negation) utterly
unevangellcal character. Happily for the Church of
England, the Lambeth Articles never acquired any
legal sanction ; and, no less happily, they cannot be
said to have exercised any influence upon the de
velopment of its theology.
It is not on the side of doctrine, however, that we
must look for the most active display of rational
thoughtfulness in the Church of England at this time.
Upon the whole, there was in it, as in the other
Churches of the Reformation, a disposition to accept
without questioning the doctrines originally elabo
rated by the great teacher whose influence had
been so powerful over the whole of the Western
Church, and which had been revived and systemat-
ised anew by Luther and Calvin. The spirit of
inquiry, even in such a man as Colet, rather tran
scended or evaded Augustinianism than disturbed it.
True to its practical character, the questions which
chiefly agitated the Church of England, and pre
served the real life of thought in it, were ecclesiastical
rather than theological — such questions, for example,
as the sacraments, orders, and, above all, the govern
ment of the Church. This latter question, which In
a sense embraced the others, was the stirring ques
tion of all the Elizabethan age, as it was destined, in

46 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
a significantly altered form, to become that of the
succeeding period.
(i.) The early sacramentarian views of the Church
of England were substantially the same as those
of the Genevan or Reformed Churches. Cranmer,
although his language is not free from figure and
perplexity, taught that the Eucharist is profitable
and edifying, as a means of grace, from Its spirit
ual suggestlveness — not otherwise. It serves to
bring before the believing mind the sacrifice of
Christ In a vivid and comfortable manner, and
so helps it to realise the personal power of redeem
ing love ; but In and by Itself it has no saving effi
cacy. It is impossible in any other than a spirit
ual manner to eat the body or drink the blood of
Christ; for the body of Christ is in heaven, and
therefore cannot be also present in the bread or
wine of the communion. This phraseology, accord
ing to Christ's own witness, means nothing else
than "to believe in Him." ^ Christ is present in
His sacraments as He is present In His Word,
"when He worketh mightily by the same in the
hearts of the hearers." ^ But in no other sense is
He present In the communion, or to be specially
worshipped in it. Ridley held the same views,
and claims the authority of the Fathers for them.
He as well as Cranmer, indeed, used language
which by itself would imply a higher meaning ; but
this they did on the principle of ascribing to the
sacrament or the sign what was only true really
of the matter of the sacrament or the thing sig-
* Cranmer's Works, Park. Soe, i. 207, ' Ibid., p. 11.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 47
nified.^ Such an expression, for example, as " blood
in the chalice," he admitted in a certain sense to be
true, but only "by grace in a sacrament." He clung
to the patristic language, and got into confusion and
apparent materialism from doing so ; but there could
be no doubt that he rejected any corporeal pre
sence, or efficacy In the mere rite. The grace of
the sacrament, he says, " Is not included in it, but
to those that receive it well it is turned to grace."
Jewel, who alone besides Hooker of the Elizabe
than divines can be said to be a systematic writer,
is equally, if not more clearly, rational in his
sacramentarian teaching. The bread and wine are
with him, in the usual language, " the holy and
heavenly mysteries of the body and blood of Christ,"
and Christ Himself is received by them through
faith. He is present and given in them, as He is
present and given in His Word. But there is no
singular or corporeal presence of Him in the Euchar
ist. " It Is not the bodily mouth, but faith alone
that receives and embraces Christ's body." ^
(2.) The question of Orders was freely discussed,
and a whole catena of evidence might be adduced to
show the liberal direction which, for the most part, the
discussion took. Cranmer's opinions are well known.
He denied the distinction of presbyter and bishop, and
seems even to have questioned the distinctive char
acter and independence of the sacred office altogether.
^ Augustine may be said to have as follows : " In sacramentis vid-
been the author of this principle, endum est, non quid sint sed quid
which is quoted from him by significent."
Jewel (iii. 497, Park. Soe. ed.) ^ iii. 488, Park. Soe, ¦S'c

48 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
A priest, he contended, might be validly constituted
by the supreme civil power, in virtue of the authority
committed to it, and also by the people In virtue of
their election.^ Jewel was no less Erastian. Those
who speak of themselves as being the only true
Church he compares to the Scribes and Pharisees,
who cried — " The temple of the Lord, the temple
ofthe Lord," and "cracked that they were Abrahams
children." God's grace, he added, is not promised
to sees and successions, but to them that fear God.
Becon, a voluminous writer, who was chaplain to
Cranmer, and the author of one of the " Homilies,"
no less explicitly denied the distinction between
bishop and presbyter, and advocated the old practice
of appointing ministers by popular election ; ^ while
Hooker, in conformity with all the principles of his
great work, maintained that "there may be some
times very just and sufficient reason to allow ordina
tion made without a bishop."^ But apart from all such
special testimonies, the liberal views of the Church of
England in the sixteenth century on the subject of
Orders are notorious. The correspondence carried on
betwixt Cranmer and Parker on the one hand, and the
Reformed divines on the other, prove beyond all
reasonable controversy that the question of Episcopal
1 His words are: "A bishop the bishops. The questions and
may make a priest by the Scrip- answers are to be found in Bur-
ture, and so may princes and gov- net's History of the Reformation,
ernors also, and that by the autho- vol. i., and also in Collier's Eccl.
rity of God committed to them, History.
and the people also by their elec- "^ iii. 46.
tion." This is one of his answers ' Eccl., B. vii. c. 14, 11. "Ordin-
to the famous series of questions arily," however, it is the function of
propounded by Henry VIII. to bishops "alone to ordain." — Ibid.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 49
ordination was not regarded as a vital one on either
side. There was a sense in which the foreign
Churches would not have objected to Episcopacy,
while the English bishops -were disposed so to
modify It as to meet their views. In short, the
Church of England had, on this important point,
reached in the sixteenth century an attitude more
rational and more consistent at once with the spirit
of Christianity and the facts of its origin, than it has,
unhappily, as a whole, been able to maintain in the
course of its history.
(3.) But the main point which then evoked and
sustained the rational thought of the Church of
England was that of the government of the
Church, or the idea of the Church as an institution.
What was this idea ? Was It definitely fixed
in Scripture, and the model or pattern of Church
government formally laid down there ? No, was
the distinct reply of the leaders of the Church of
England In the sixteenth century; while strangely
enough the affirmative dogmatic side was zealously
maintained by the extreme Reformers, known thus
early as Puritans, who had brought from abroad not
only Calvinian theology but Calvinian Presbyterian
ism. There are two phases in this great struggle
during the Elizabethan age : first, the controversy
betwixt Cartwrlght and Whitgift; and secondly, that
betwixt Tra vers and Hooker, which led to the
composition of the ' Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity.'
Nothing can be more clear than the attitude of both
these distinguished representatives of the Church of
England. Whitgift is indeed an infinitely inferior
VOL. I. D

so RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
genius ; and while his principles are conciliatory,
and his tone of argument moderate, his language Is
often harsh and overbearing. Of his rational posi
tion, however, he leaves no doubt. There Is, accord
ing to him, no " one certain and perfect kind of
government prescribed or commanded in the Scrip
tures to the Church of Christ," and the " only essen
tial notes" of the Church everywhere are " the true
preaching of the Word of God, and the right adminis
tration of the sacraments."^ "The substance and
matter of government must Indeed be taken out of
the Word of God," but " the offices In the Church
whereby this government is wrought are not namely
and particularly expressed in the Scriptures, but in
some points left to the discretion and liberty of the
Church, to be disposed according to the state of
times, places, and persons." ^ Whitgift, in short,
vindicates for the Church a rational liberty to order
in particulars its frame of government according
to the principle of expediency. He met the dog
matism of the Puritan, who could not understand
a divine revelation which did not fix everything
regarding religion to the minutest particular,^ by the
^ Def. of Answ. to Adm., 1573, only neglect the ornaments ofthe
p. 81. Church, but that without which
^ Ibid. it cannot long stand ? Shall we
' " And it is no small injury conclude that He who remember-
which you do unto the Word of ed the bars there, hath forgotten
God to pin it in so narrow room the pillars here ? Or He who there
as that it should be able to direct remembered the pins, here forgot
us but in the principal points the master-builders ? Should He
of our religion. ... Is it likely there remember the besoms, and
that He who appointed, not only here forget archbishops, if any
the Tabernacle and the Temple, had been needful ? Could He
but their ornaments, would not there make mentionof the snuffers.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 51
simple assertion that in point of fact revelation had
left such matters undetermined. He encountered
dogmatism by negation, and the sharp and pointed
exposure congenial to his somewhat rough, if acute,
sense and shrewdness. But he did little more. His
mind, as the Lambeth Articles show, was of that
limited, pseudo-logical character, which, while sound
and rational on such a practical matter as that
of Church government, had yet no real power of
thought, or penetration of higher principles. It
remained to Hooker to carry the controversy into a
region of rational light and philosophic comprehen
sion capable of shedding illustration and a new life
of meaning, not only upon the constitution of the
Church, but upon the whole sphere of theology.
Hooker began, not from negations, but from a
positive analysis of the primary and essential prin
ciples of all government. Granting, he virtually
said, that divine laws are our only immutable guides
in the ordering of the Church — which was the
Puritan postulate — yet laws are not divine merely
because they are found In Scripture. All law,
truly so, is no less divine, as forming an expres
sion of the original law, or reason, of the universe.
Whether the law is revealed in Scripture, or in the
rational constitution of human nature, makes no dif
ference. Its sacredness Is the same, as springing out
of the same Fountain of all light and order. This
unity of nature and life and Scripture, as all equally
true, if not equally important, revelations of the
to purge the lights, and here pass wright's Reply to Ad., 14-82.
bythe lights themselves?" — Cart-

52 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
divine will, lies at the foundation of Hooker's whole
argument. It Is the comprehensive and germinant
idea underlying Its entire structure, and breathing
form and meaning Into it — inarticulate sometimes, but
not the less powerful. According to this idea, the
Church of England, in the Catholic hierarchy of
offices which it preserved, was defensible, not merely
because it was there, and there was nothing In Scrip
ture against it, but because it was In Itself a fair,
seemly, and rational order of government. It based
itself on the divine reason, expressed In the national
consciousness, and sanctioned both by the national
sentiment and the course of Catholic history. In
this, the higher sense, it possessed undoubted divine
right. It was conformable to Scripture and the
Christian reason, and had Its origin directly In the
growth and advance of this reason. The Church was
to Hooker, in fine, no dogmatic or exclusive institu
tion — as the Puritans would have made it — parti
tioning by formal lines and boundaries the cosmos of
spiritual thought and experience which had sprung
from the divine ideal in Christ, and in Him recreated
and transformed humanity. It was a spiritual order,
capable of diverse forms, and tolerantly comprehen
sive of all Christian gifts and activities.
If the Church of England had never produced any
other writer of the same stamp, it might yet have
boasted in Hooker one of the noblest and most
rational intellects which ever enriched Christian
literature or adorned a great cause. In combina
tion of speculative, literary, imaginative, and spiritual
qualities, the ' Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity ' stand,

FROM THE REFORMATION. 53
as a polemical treatise, unrivalled. The same rich
and ample intellect, and the same calm and judicial
wisdom, shine through it all, but especially in the
first book, where the author rises to his loftiest flight
of thought, and expatiates with the most sustained
force and compass of reasoning. Nowhere In the
literature of philosophy has ethical and political
speculation essayed a profounder and more com
prehensive task, or sought to take a broader sweep ;
and never has the harmony of the moral universe,
and the Interdependence and unity of man's spirit
ual and civil life, in their multiplied relations, been
more finely conceived, or more impressively ex
pounded. The chief characteristic of the work is
its elevated calmness of luminous and reasonable
thought. Many writers are more acute, subtle,
and forcible in detail, and reach their conclusions
by more rapid, vivid, and close processes of logic ;
but no writer ever conducted a great argument In a
higher, purer, and more enlightened spirit. None
ever dwelt In a more lofty, serene, and truthful at
mosphere, or raised himself more directly, by mere
grandeur and largeness of conception, above all the
petty and vulgar details which beset controversy even
on the greatest subjects. The work remains an
enduring monument of all the highest principles of
Christian rationalism — of that spirit and tendency
of thought which everywhere ascends from traditions
or dogmas to principles, and which tests all questions,
not with reference to external rules or authorities,
but to the indestructible and enlightened instincts of
the Christian consciousness.

54 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND"
II. In the age following Hooker, or during the
reigns of the two first Stuart monarchs, the Church
of England lost much of its original breadth and
catholicity. The growth of what is known as
"Anglo-Catholicism" marks exactly the decay of the
more genuine catholic spirit which united the Church
of the English Reformation to the other Reformed
Churches. It might almost seem as if James I. and
Charles I., both of them naturally of a small and
irrational type of mind, had Impressed something of
their own narrowness and pedantry upon the Church
and the theology of their day. It is certainly strange
that a genius so rich and fine, and a cast of thought
so truly noble as Hooker's, should have produced so
little result. The Stuart divines, if they read him
at all, only read him on one side of his mind — the
patristic and controversial — which, when divorced
from the higher philosophic side, loses all its life and
true meaning. It is impossible to conceive writers
with less real affinity to the great Elizabethan divine
than Andrews or Donne or Laud, or even Hall,
Hammond, or Sanderson.
The Anglo-Catholic theology withal is a genuine
development of the Church of England. In some
respects it is its most characteristic development ;
while no theological school has been adorned by a
series of higher or more beautiful characters. It is
the special line of thought by which the present
Church connects Itself with the ancient Catholic
hierarchy. Tollatur abusus maneat usus was the
special motto of the English Reformation ; and
the spirit of the motto was, upon the whole, consis-

FROM THE REFORMATION. 55
tently maintained, notwithstanding the strong desire
among some of the bishops, such as Sandys and
Grindal, and even Jewel,^ to carry out more thorough
and extensive changes. The patristic element,
again, was something different with the English Re
formers than with either Luther or Calvin, with all
their deference to the Augustinian theology. Not
only Augustine, but the Fathers generally — both
Greek and Latin— were constantly appealed to in
the sacramentarian discussions, and also in the early
phase of the controversy with the Puritans. On
the former subject, as we have already seen, the
greatest anxiety was manifested to adhere to the
patristic language, even where it obviously covered
a meaning beyond that which the English divine was
disposed to accept. This is evident not only in Cran
mer and Ridley, but also In Jewel with his wider
and more liberal culture. The peculiar force which
patristic authority retained over the minds of the
English Reformers cannot indeed be better exem
plified than In the case of this writer, with all his
broad and clearly rational tendencies. His defence
of his 'Apology' against Harding bristles with
patristic references from all sources, everywhere
handled with the utmost reverence. Antiquity was
therefore a distinct note of the Church of England
from the beginning ; and the Fathers were in some
1 In a letter to Peter Martyr, where levelled to the ground ; . . .
Jewel expresses strong approval the altars are consigned to the
of the comparative thoroughness flames; not a vestige of the ancient
with which the Reformation was superstition and idolatry is left."
carried out in Scotland. " All the — jewel's Letters.
monasteries," he says, " are every-

S6 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
sort recognised as authorised expositors of divine
truth. This position is claimed for them in one
of Archbishop Parker's canons in the year 15 71,
when the Articles were finally settled, and the Re
formation may be said to have reached its culmin
ating point. Preachers are there admonished not
" to propound anything publicly as an article of faith,
save only what is agreeable to the doctrine of the
Old and New Testament, and to what the Catholit
Fathers and ancient bishops of the Church have col
lected out of Holy Writ}
So far, therefore, the theological tendency of Laud
and his school may be traced back to the peculiar
character of the Anglican Reformation . As a definite
system, however, Anglo-Catholicism did not emerge
till the seventeenth century; and the Anglo-Catholics,
as a party, have no right to claim the inheritance of the
Church of England. They are really the successors,
and not the precursors, of the Puritans ; and if they
followed out certain features of the old national party,
and so far became their representatives, they yet did
so in a very different spirit. The original advocates
of the Church of England via media, fought their
battle, upon the whole, with the weapons of reason
and fair Scriptural inquiry. And nothing more
honourable can be said of them in such a time.

' Parker's canons were sub- then Archbishop of York, in
scribed by the bishops of both thanking Parker for sending him
provinces, and are therefore a a copy of them, doubts whether,
valid indication of the state of in default of such sanctions, "they
opinion in the Church. But they had vigorem legis!' — Strype's Life
never received either royal or Par- of Parker, ii. 57.
liamentary assent ; and Grindal,

FROM THE REFORMATION. 57

They had no exclusive theory of divine right, and
their sacerdotalism, so far as it existed at all, was
traditionary and not dogmatic. If not latitudinarian,
they were never destitute of a certain intellectual
breadth. But the age was too troublesome, and
men too impatient and violent, to appreciate such
an attitude as this. The Puritans were felt to have
a certain advantage with the popular and even the
ordinary theological mind in the very narrowness
of their theory. It was understood of all. That
nothing was to be in the Church which was not
commanded in Scripture — that an explicit divine
command ox jus divinum must settle everything —
was a very obvious, ready-made, and effective, if
somewhat coarse, weapon of controversy. It might
satisfy men Hke Hooker, or even Whitgift, to say,
— No ; rational expediency in matters of Church
government Is the only law, and the highest law we
can have. But men like Bancroft were not content
to maintain their cause with such reasoning. They
saw how a theory of divine right carried Itself with
the popular mind, which, in the second decade
before the close of the century, was violently agi
tated by the Martin Marprelate pamphlets against
the bishops and the English hierarchy generally. In
these pamphlets, the Scriptural theory of Presby
terianism, with many other popular arguments, was
ventilated, with a lively If rough and vulgar humour.
In such circumstances It was that Bancroft conceived
the great polemical idea of turning the tables upon
the Puritan Presbyterians, by the assertion of a con
verse theory of divine right on behalf of Episcopacy,

58 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
in his famous sermon at St Paul's Cross in February
1588. "The Conformists," it is said, ^ "were
amazed at the novelty of the doctrine. The Puritans
were confounded with the boldness of the claim.
Whitgift said he did not believe the doctrine to be
true, but he wished that it were." When this counter-
dogmatism was once started It gained rapid ground.
It addressed not only the popular intelligence, to
which a ready-made dogmatism is always the best
form of argumentative assertion ; but it commended
itself to higher minds than Bancroft — such as
Saravia, Hooker's friend in his later years, and
Thomas Bllson, afterwards Bishop of Winchester ;
and gradually It worked itself into the whole texture
of the controversy with the Puritans. Apostolical
order — a jus divinum, of Episcopacy, arising out of
the supposed direct sanction of the apostles in the
close of the first century — became the watchword of
the one party, as Scriptural purity was the watch
word of the other. Or, more particularly, the ex
clusive authority of a threefold ministry (bishops,
priests, and deacons) became the special theory, or
raison d'itre, of the Anglo -Catholics, against the
tetrarchy or fourfold order (doctors, pastors, elders,
and deacons) of the Puritans.
Thus at the end of the sixteenth century emerged
the rival dogmatisms which were destined to such
fatal conflict. With the accession of James I., these
dogmatisms are seen confronting one another in the
Hampton Court Conference, as elsewhere ; conscious
of their mutual dislike, but as yet unconscious of the
^ Hunt's Religious Thought, i. 86.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 59
sanguinary issues which were to come from their
rivalry. It is not our business to sketch the course
of their relations to one another, or to apportion be
twixt them the ¦responsibilities of the struggle which
ensued. That the deadliest elements of this struggle,
however, lay in the womb of these rival theories
admits of no question. All the reflective minds of
the time felt this, from Hales to Hobbes. Political
complications, an insane abuse of the royal preroga
tive, and a tyrannous exercise of the executive func
tions both of Church and State, all helped to bring
the long-continued struggle to a crisis ; but it was
the hate and determination engendered by religious
fanaticism on both sides that made the fierce back
ground of the struggle, and compelled It to be
fought out to its bitter end. Hobbes was wrong
in seeking to avenge the national confusions upon
the religious principle itself by virtually extirpating
it, or — what comes very much to the same thing —
by subordinating It entirely to the civil authority;
but he was not wrong in ascribing the train of ca
lamities which overtook the country to its aggres
sive and high-handed violence on the one side and
the other.
It remains for us only farther, In this chapter, to
describe somewhat more fully the characteristic prin
ciples and attitude of the rival dogmatisms, and then
to point out the special causes which contributed to
the formation of a third or liberal party betwixt the
two ; or, in other words, to the reappearance, in a
definite and progressive form, of the rational religious
spirit in which the English Reformation had started.

6o RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
and of which it had already, in Hooker, produced so
splendid an example.
(i.) The Anglo-Catholic system, while narrow in
theory, and capable both of violent and of vulgar
manifestations, yet presents many aspects of specu
lative and literary interest. It has had the power
through all its history of captivating many fine, in
teresting, and original minds ; while in its highest
developments it often loses, not indeed Its bigotry,
but all which makes bigotry offensive and danger
ous. It Is grounded on a strange illusion of a
golden patristic age, when Christian teachers, rev
erently termed Fathers, enjoyed special advantages
of interpreting and declaring divine truth. The
Church of England is supposed to inherit the
continuous tradition of this golden age, under the
name of " catholicity." While protesting, along
with the other Reformed Churches, against the
abuses and perversions of Rome, it has yet, accord
ing to this theory, kept clear of either German or
Genevan extremes. It threw off the usurpations of
the Papacy, and translated with modifications the old
ritual Into the common tongue. It remedied various
errors of doctrine and of practice which had crept
in during the ages of darkness and corruption, but
it has preserved unimpaired the sacredness of the
apostolic succession, the deposit of Catholic truth,
and the sweetness and grandeur of the ancient
prayers. The prestige, dignity, and spiritual autho
rity of the Anglican Church descend with unbroken
force from the Canterbury mission and the supreme
Catholic Church which it represented.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 6r

The ideal of Anglo-Catholicism is not the primi
tive Church as it is seen emerging in its rude simpli
cities from the synagogue, or as pictured in the touch
ing symbolism of the catacombs. It is the Church
of the fourth and fifth centuries, with its elaborated
creed and full-grown splendour — the orthodox
Athanasian Church, illustrated by great names, and
strong in its possession of the truth against the
Arians and others who had threatened its life. To
ascend to this Catholic time with any doctrine or
usage Is sufficient, and indeed the most sufficient
warrant either can have. The statements of the
Christian writers who then instructed the Church
possess an exceptional value, and are examined and
expounded with a deferential regard only second, if
indeed second, to those of Scripture itself The
great CEcumenical Councils which were held during
the same period command special admiration, and
their decisions are received with special reverence
and faith. The great aim of the school is not to
reach the primary Ideas of Christianity, and trace
their growth downwards — to show, for example, how
Athanasianism developed from a simpler or less sys-
tematised creed — but, reading upwards from the great
era of Catholic orthodoxy, to vindicate even the
technical subtleties and barbaric exclusiveness of the
" Symbolum Quicunque " in the earlier Christian
remains. Its method, in short, is essentially and in
all things dogmatic, yet with a touch of conciliatory
breadth which never fails to come from historic
studies, and the recognition of historic difference or
dogmatic growth in any form.

62 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
The Anglo-Catholic theologian not only rests upon
authority, but delights to do so. He works out all
his conclusions on assumed data no less truly, if not
so entirely, as the medieval theologian did. He
starts from recognised principles ; he does not go In
quest of them. The truth Is for him already found
and deposited, not to be found or inquired after. He
is content and proud to inherit the wisdom of the
past, and to be the heir of " Catholic " thought and
"Catholic" worship through many ages. Christianity
is not for him characteristically a divine philosophy,
nor yet a spiritual life, but a dogmatic treasure — an
heirloom of the ancient divine family, which has ga
thered the good and orthodox of all generations into
its bosom ; and he sits reverently at the feet of the
great names who have exhibited and transmitted its
power, or shone with its beauty since it came into
the world. Even when we see in this type of theo
logian a rare force or charm of mind, it is not so
much capacity of Inquiry, or pure love of truth for its
own sake, that is developed, as largeness of faith and
receptive power of thought. That which has come
along the golden links of Catholic tradition and
association — not the result of his own research, but a
consecrated continuity of opinion — he loves and de
fends. He rationalises little — never if he can help
it — even when his sweep of argument is boldest, and
his reason takes its highest flight.
This Anglo-Catholic tendency, it is almost need
less to say, has more than once in the course of its
history shown an Inclination towards Romanism. It
has, in some of Its brightest examples, lost its distinc-

FROM THE REFORMATION. 63
tive national character, and returned into the bosom
of the older Catholicism, from whose corruptions it
professed to have separated. In times of excite
ment and agitation of the principles lying at Its
foundation this is Inevitable. But it would, never
theless, be a grave mistake to confound the general
movement with these occasional vacillations. The
movement has in Itself both a distinct dogmatic and
historical life, and is not to be identified with Ro
manism, even if it be true that its principles lead
thither when pushed to their logical consequences.
The great lines of religious faith in a country are
not to be classified, and still less exhausted, by any
applications of logic.
And if, on the one hand, Anglo-Catholicism has
sometimes inclined to Romanism, it has also — and
never more strongly than in the seventeenth century
— shown an inclination towards liberalism. This is
one of the strange anomalies with which we meet
In religious developments. Puritanism, which began
in impulses of liberty, and which, through all its
history, has been so associated with the assertion of
political independence and the rights of conscience,
has yet always been intolerant of dogmatic differ
ences. In the seventeenth century it manifested
this Intolerance in an extreme degree. From no
quarter did the liberal theological spirit receive more
discountenance, or more fervent denunciation and
resistance. On the other hand, the High Church
party, while servile in spirit and tyrannic in the
exercise of constituted authority, is found — and emi
nently so in the case of its most notable representa-

64 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
tive — extending patronage to the earliest of our
rational theologians. All these theologians came
out of the bosom of the party, and continued, more
or less, closely associated with it. And even in the
case of some of the most distinctive of the Anglo-
Catholic theologians themselves, there are traces of
a certain freedom of thought on purely theological
matters — a certain " libertas opinandi" as Heylin
says, on " points of philological and scholastic divin
ity." " Some truths," he adds, " are found in each
school ; but not all in any." ^ The statement has
the touch of the liberal and eclectic party. So
that If Romanism may be said to lie in wait for
Anglo-Catholicism on one side, there Is a sense in
which Latitudlnarlanism springs from it on another.
(2.) Puritan dogmatism, again, rests, or Is supposed
to rest, on direct Scriptural authority. It appeals
simply and absolutely to the divine Word, which it
Identifies with Scripture. Its watchword is not only
Scripture as an ultimate authority or rule of faith —
for In this respect all forms of Protestantism may be
said to agree with it, or at least did agree with It in
the seventeenth century^ — but Scripture as an infal
lible dogmatic code. It has never fairly faced — and
during that century it was not even conscious of —
such questions as. What is Scripture ? and. What is
the relative dogmatic import of its several books ?
The Bible presents itself to the Puritan as a uniform
manual of doctrine and duty, an absolute law of
truth and right, In which his own system is plainly
and authoritatively laid down. His special dogmas
^ Introd. to Laud's Life.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 65
are supposed to be mere transcripts of its letter.
He ignores, and has always ignored, the Idea of
dogmatic and ecclesiastical development. St Paul
appears to him to speak with as clearly a predestin
arian voice as St Augustine, and the Presbyterian
platform to be as clearly revealed as the Levitical
economy. He has found even the " ruling elder
ship" in a text of the Pastoral Epistles. All the
teaching of life, the experience of history, the
accumulations of Catholic ordinance and ritual, have
with him comparatively no divine meaning. He is
careless of the venerable associations and harmonis
ing beauties which Christian opinion has gathered
during the long lapse of the Christian centuries.
The Catholic Church and its traditions, if they are
regarded at all, are regarded with no enthusiasm.
What the Fathers have written is an altogether
secondary or irrelevant question. He sets aside
all as a dim and imperfect twilight of tradition,
to look straight at Scripture, and catch the divine
truth in its clear daylight. Its formal enunciations
and prescriptions alone are presumed to guide him.
" To the law and to the testimony " is his Invariable
appeal. It is difficult to conceive a more complete antag
onism to the Anglo-Catholic theory. Even when
the theological conclusions of the two schools may
not greatly differ, their modes of argument and of
exposition widely disagree. The Thirty-nine Arti
cles cannot be taken as a characteristic specimen of
Anglo-Catholic theology. They were framed before
the emergence of its distinctive dogmatic spirit, and
VOL. I. E

66 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
have indeed constituted a main difficulty to the most
pronounced adherents of the school, who have sought
by various glosses to harmonise them with Catholic
doctrine. But, such as they are, they exhibit a
marked difference to the full-grown type of Puritan
theology, as presented, for example, in the canons
of the Synod of Dort, or the chapters of the West
minster Confession of Faith. In the one there is
present everywhere a touch of moderation, the soft
ening influence of a conciliatory doctrinism which is
true to the positive aspects of Augustinianism and
the evangelical import of the great questions raised
by the Reformation, but which yet shrinks, for the
most part, from all negative and extreme deductions.
Their meaning is Calvinian ; but the logic of Cal
vinism is sparingly used, and a dogmatic Scripturism
does not obtrude itself In the other, all generality
and Scriptural manifoldness have disappeared. The
concrete has become abstract ; the statement of fact
has been transformed into the process of ratiocina
tion ; and the negative polemical side of almost every
truth is set forth in clearer sharpness and definition
than its positive substance. Dogmas are rigorously
carried out to their consequences; and the intellect and
conscience alike are assailed by the coercive authority
with which these consequences, in their most theo
retic relations, are expressed and enforced. Above
all, the letter of Scripture is itself turned into logic,
and the divine idea, living and shapely in its original
form, is drawn out into hard and unyielding proposi
tions. Nothing is more singular, nor in a sense more
impressive, than the daring alliance thus forced be-

FROM THE REFORMATION. 67
twixt logic and Scripture. The thought and the
letter, the argument and the fact, are inwrought.
This identification of Scripture with its own forms
of thinking was of the very essence of Puritanism,
and gave it something of its marvellous success in
an age when argument was strong, and criticism
weak. To do justice to Puritanism, it must be admitted
that it did not only bring its ideas to Scripture, but
supposed that it found them there. St Paul ap
peared to speak to it with its own voice, to be a
dogmatist of its own type. Calvinism was only
Christianity reduced to a system. It was the divine
thought articulated in human language. Calvinian
speculation has always this true element of sublimity
in it. It soars directly to the throne of God, and
seeks to chain all its deductions to that supreme
height. But it fails to realise how far men's best
thoughts are below this height, and how much
human weakness and error must mingle in the
loftiest efforts to compass and set forth divine truth.
Dogmatic Puritanism was the offspring of an uncriti
cal and polemical age, when men theologlsed, as they
fought, with no scruples, and no tenderness towards
opponents. And this hard and one-sided spirit sur
vives in it. It barely recognises even now in the
sphere of theology that truth is not all on one side.
It still looks with jealousy on that more tolerant
spirit, both of faith and of criticism, which labours to
distinguish the essential from the accidental, and so
to penetrate and sift all systems as to lay bare the
multiplied Influences of time, place, and character.

68 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
which have mingled in their production, and stamped
and coloured them with their own impress and hue.
It shrinks from the critical impartiality which ex
poses everywhere the purely human side of Christian
doctrine, and clings obstinately to ideas of compensa
tion, forensic imputation, and covenants, as being of
the very essence of the divine truth — original ele
ments of the primitive Christian consciousness. It
matters not that the origin of such ideas can be dis
tinctly traced outside of Scripture, as temporary
conventionalities, or transitory habits of human
speculation. It delights to identify them with the
divine meaning ; and parting with them is as if part
ing with the very substance of divine revelation.
In its later ecclesiastical or Presbyterian form,
Puritanism cannot be said to connect itself directly
with the English Reformation. For, in the first
Instance, there was no question of abandoning the
historical polity of the Church of England. None
of the earliest Reformers entertained this thought,
or supposed that there was anything Incompatible
betwixt Scripture and the hierarchy of offices Into
which this polity had grown. Yet in such men as
Tyndale, and Latimer, and Hooper, and Ridley, we
see something of the same dogmatic Scripturism of
which Puritanism was only the full development.
The bare text of Scripture is with them a final
appeal ; and although they accepted the Anglican
system, there is little doubt that. If they had been
allowed their own way, they would have greatly
modified it. If not enamoured, like Cartwrlght and
others after the Marian persecution, with the Gene-

FROM THE REFORMATION. 69
van model, they were yet entirely free from Catholic
predilections ; they cared little or nothing for the
external dignity and historical associations of the
Church, and earnestly desired a reduction of its
medieval ceremonies. They were therefore Puri
tans before Puritanism, and the name had come Into
vogue before the party can be said to have been
formed. As Anglo-Catholicism links itself with the
Church before the Reformation, with a proud sense
of its ancient lineage, Puritanism connects itself with
the Reformation as its most characteristic outgrowth
— although both, in their definite form, were really
later developments.
This side of English religious thought grew and
hardened by the very means taken to check and
destroy it. The Continental experience of the Eng
lish Reformers, when driven abroad in the reign of
Mary, tended greatly to encourage and strengthen it.
The hostility of Elizabeth and James I., the vacilla
tions of the archbishops — now, as In the case of
Bancroft, violently denouncing and opposing it, and
again, in the case of Abbot, temporising with and
favouring it — the pettiness and ignorance of the
authorities generally, and their small and incessant
interferences — contributed to nurse its irritations,
foster its surly independence, and give point to its
zeal. Whether the two sides of thought, if left alone
to their natural working, would have come to under
stand one another, and so have kept the peace, if
not coalesced, it Is needless to conjecture. There
are some indications that they might have done
so. There were statesmen in England like Lord-

70 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
Keeper Williams,^ who could look with indifference
on their antagonism, and hold the balance fairly be
twixt them. If Williams had not been supplanted
by Laud at the accession of Charles, and the dogmatic
fever propagated under the unhappy rule of the latter
prelate to Its fiercest height, affairs might have taken
a different course. But Laud forced the evil genius
ofthe time. In him were unluckily concentrated all
the intensities of one side, not only in an exaggerated
and narrow but in an intensely aggressive attitude.
Not destitute of generous and liberal qualities, as he
has been sometimes painted, nor even without a cer
tain breadth of dogmatic sympathy, he was yet wholly
deficient in largeness of mind, or any real insight
into the thoughts of others. The strength and
earnestness of spiritual convictions differing from his
own were unintelligible to him, and so he hardly
realised the difficulties with which he had to deal.
Not only his policy — his schemes for procuring
" uniformity and decency" of "external worship" ^ —
but his very nature, his watchfulness, and the petti
ness and persistency of his interferences, proved an
irritant of the worst kind. Slowly but surely, during
those years when he and his master and Wentworth
may be said to have governed alone, the crisis was
ripening. The religious consciousness of Puritanism,
far from being subdued, deepened to a darker hue,
¦* Bishop of Lincoln, and chief ducing Popish ceremonies, "was
ecclesiastical adviser in the last that the external worship of God
years of James. in this Church might be kept up
' " All that I laboured for in in uniformity and decency, and in
this particular," he said, when some beauty of holiness."
charged on his trial with intro-

FROM THE REFORMATION. 71
and gathered a firmer tenacity. Instead of being
weakened, it grew strong under oppression ; and,
adding to its strength Intensity, deliberateness, and a
gradually kindling fierceness, it braced itself for the
struggle, and nursed a wrath which was to be terrible
in Its vengeance.
(3.) It was so far a natural result of the attitude
of these respective systems — facing one another in
unyielding antagonism — that a third or middle party
should spring up. Thoughtful men on either side
could not but be visited with misgivings as to the
effects of such an antagonism, and the futile and
miserable controversies which arose from it. They
were driven by the very discomforts of the ecclesi
astical position to consider whether there was not
a more excellent way than that presented by either
extreme. Moreover, it was the direct tendency of
the controversies between the two sides to raise
fundamental questions as to the constitution of the
Church, the nature and importance of doctrinal dif
ferences, and the relations of authority and freedom
within the limits of the national Communion. So far,
therefore, the liberal movement was born naturally
out of the oppositions we have described. It came
forth a new element out of the theological fulness of
the time. A few reflective minds pondering over
the distracted condition of the Church and the
country, and wearied with the ceaseless contention
between Puritan and Anglo-Catholic, struck their
line of thought deeper than either, and brought into
view a wider set of principles, in the light of which the
old antagonisms seemed hollow and false. Getting

72 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
below the dogmatic basement of both, the structures
which had been reared upon them crumbled away,
and there was opened up the fair prospect of a
higher structure — a Church more true than either
had conceived — more divine, because more simple
and comprehensive.
But there were two special causes which contri
buted to the origin of the new movement : [a) as we
have already Indicated, the influence of Arminianism ;
and [b) the aggressions of Popery.
(a.) Arminianism was at first by no means wel
comed in England. The Church, moderately but
decidedly Augustinian in its theology, looked with
hostility upon the liberal movement in Holland.
James I. professed to be a strong Calvinist ; and when
the Synod of Dort was convened, sent to it, as is well
known, a deputation from the Church of England to
countenance and strengrthen the Calvinists against
the Remonstrants. This they did ; but the effect
of their visit, and still more the visit of one^ who
was not a member of the deputation, but who had
accompanied the English ambassador to the Hague,
was different from what was intended. The pro
ceedings of the Synod, however favourable to the
Calvinian party, were highly unfavourable to dog
matic peace and Christian concord. The questions
supposed to be settled, when transferred to an Eng
lish atmosphere, were discussed over again with
very different results In the case of many of the
most active-minded and influential of the clergy.
James himself, although be did not formally abjure
' Hales — see following Chapter.

FROM THE REFORMATION. 73
his Calvinism, was perplexed by the manifestations
of the new doctrinal spirit. Those among the clergy
who began to Incline to Arminianism were found by
him the most favourably disposed to his favourite
ideas of royal prerogative, while the Puritans were
all strict Calvinists. And much as he loved Calvin
ism, he loved servility and the principle of passive
obedience still more. Thus it was that, even before
the accession of Charles and the date of Laud's
influence, the current of royal favour had begun to
flow steadily towards the novel doctrines and those
who espoused them. So far, Arminianism became
in England merely another form of dogmatism. It
passed In fact into the Anglo-Catholic movement as
Its theological background, and gave to It a party
meaning and consistency which it had not hitherto
possessed. It became, along with Popery, a subject
of Parliamentary complaint. The High Church and
the Puritan parties were henceforth divided theo
logically as well as ecclesiastically ; and the dogma
tism of Montague and of Laud himself was more
" resolved," ^ while really less intelligent and de
vout, than the Calvinism of Abbot. But Armin
ianism was, we have seen, a great deal more than a
mere system of doctrines. It raised, wherever it
spread, a new spirit of religious Inquiry. It opened
up large questions as to the Interpretation of Scrip
ture, and the position and value of dogma altogether,
and, in short, diffused a latitudinarian atmosphere.
The liberal Impulses which It thus helped to com-
1 Laud's own expression in! heresies." Montague was Bishop
speaking of Montague's " alleged ' of Chichester, 1628-1638.

74 RELIGIOUS OPINION IN ENGLAND
municate to a few thoughtful minds in England will
be abundantly evident In the course of our volumes.
{b.) But strangely, also, the very activities of
Popery at this time served to quicken in England
a new seed of thought. The Roman Church had
never lost the hope of winning back the English
crown and people to Its old Catholic allegiance. It
had never, even after the death of Mary, and the
defeat of its great champion, Philip of Spain, quite
abandoned its intrigues for this purpose ; and now
in the last years of James, and especially following
the marriage of Charles with a Catholic princess, it
renewed its efforts with redoubled zeal. Flushed by
the success of the Jesuits on the Continent, and well
informed of the prevalent ecclesiastical divisions, it
sent its emissaries throughout England, under feigned
names, everywhere to foment the disunion of the
two parties, and to insinuate the claims of Roman
Catholicism as the only remedy for the distractions
of controversy, and the only means of establishing
a stable theology and Church order. Many of the
higher classes, as In more recent times, were won
over by the seductions of these clever and polished
polemics. Buckingham's mother became a pervert
as early as 1622 ; and Buckingham himself seemed
on the eve of yielding to " the continual cunning
labours of Fisher the Jesuit, and the persuasions of
the lady his mother." ^ Laud claimed the credit
' Laud's own statement in his whom, "by God's blessing upon
speech to the Lords, 1643. He his labours," he succeeded in
mentions no fewer than twenty " settling in the true Protestant
cases of such perverts or waverers religion." See as to the extent

FROM THE REFORMATION. 75
" by God's blessing " of rescuing him as well as
many others from their danger, and especially, as
is well known, of bringing back Chillingworth to
the bosom of the Church of England. The fact
that a mind like Chillingworth's was entangled by
the thickly-sown sophistries, is enough to show how
powerful they were, and how ingenious and season
able their adaptation to the intellectual and spiritual
atmosphere of the time. But the very stress of the
Jesuit arguments opened the way for a more rational
theory of religion. The necessity of an infallible
Church was their great point. How could men
believe aright without some "certain guide"? How
could the form of the Church be settled without
some power to settle It ? It was the pressure of
such questions that drove minds like Falkland and
Chillingworth to examine the whole subject of autho
rity in religion, and to work it out to its only con
sistent and reasonable conclusion. Thus, as also
in later times, the wave of rational and of Jesuit
thought met in collision — the aggressions of the
one serving to evoke the full strength and life of the
other.of the Romanising influence at ed. ; Masson's Milton, i. 638
this time in England, Hallam's etseq.
Constitut. History, ii. 66, 67, loth

76

IIL
LORD FALKLAND— A MODERATE AND LIBERAL
CHURCH.
I. The commencement of our movement is asso
ciated with a name of romantic interest in English
history — that of Lucius Cary, the second Lord
Falkland. There are few more charming sketches
in English literature — and none more charming in
all the attractive series from the same pen — than
Lord Clarendon's sketch ofthis friend of his youth ;^
while his melancholy fate, almost at the opening
of the civil war, has deepened the interest of a sin
gular career, and lent to it something of tragic pa
thos. It is true that Clarendon's portrait Is warmly
coloured. Not only the magic of his art, but the
ideal enthusiasm which lit up the image of a long-
vanished friend, may be traced in its glowing lines.
Such side-lights of contemporary testimony as we
possess regarding Falkland, are also somewhat
vaguely admiring and indefinite. There is a sort of
^ Lord Clarendon has sketched work — the Memoirs of his life,
his friend's charactei: in his His- written in continuation of his
tory of the Rebellion, chiefly in History after his final banish-
Book VII. (ii. 445-455, Clar. ment from England in 1667 (i.
Press Ed.), but also, and still 42-50, Clar. Press Ed.)
more elaborately, in his later

LORD FALKLAND. yj
nimbus about the figure, which prevents us seeing
it in the full daylight in which we see many of his
contemporaries. But when men like Horace Wal
pole^ infer from this that Falkland has been greatly
over-estimated, and that his actions by no means
equal his fame — they forget how brief his career
was, and mistake its true significance. He was only
thirty-three when he fell at Newbury; and it is
not as a politician that he claims our special admira
tion, as it is not in this aspect indeed that he is so
applausively described by Clarendon. Falkland may
not have been fitted for the stormy career in which
he had reluctantly embarked. He was incapable
of becoming either a Clarendon on the one side or a
Cromwell on the other. He lacked the hardy fibre
which makes men go straight and unscrupulously at
their object — z. special source of weakness In such a
time. But hardihood of political bias is by no means
so rare a virtue that it is to be placed above all
others. And Falkland's true portrait is not that of the
politician or the soldier, but of the poet, the scholar,
the theological controversialist, and, above all, the
inspiring chief of a circle of rational and moderate
thinkers amidst the excesses of a violent and dog
matic age. Fortunately, also, it is in these aspects
that we can now most fairly judge him. His poems,
his speeches concerning Episcopacy, and his Dis
course on Infallibility survive, and bring before us
as living an image of his mind and stamp of thought
as we could desire. If Walpole had appreciated —
what, indeed, was not to be expected of him — the
^ Royal and Noble Authors, vol. v.

^8 LORD FALKLAND :
Intellectual significance of Falkland's position, and
the true charm of his influence, he would never have
spoken of his weakness and mediocrity. A man's
contemporaries may not always be the best judge of
his character and abilities ; but it would Indeed have
been strange if one who not only has been celebrated
by Suckling, Ben Jonson, and Cowley, and lovingly
sketched by Clarendon, but who was also honoured
by Hales, and consulted In argument by Chilling
worth, should not have possessed remarkable powers.
The study of Falkland's remains appear to us fully
to warrant the distinction which has gathered around
his name, and the importance which we assign to
him in our history.
Lucius Cary was descended from the Carys of
Cockington, in Devonshire — an old knightly family.
His grandfather, Sir Edward Cary, appears to have
removed to Hertfordshire, where his father, Henry,
was born at Aldenham, probably about the middle of
Elizabeth's reign. This, the first Lord Falkland,
was a man of distinguished, although unsuccessful,
political eminence. He was educated at Exeter
College, Oxford, which he left without taking any
degree, but where he seems to have left behind him
a celebrated social name. It Is said by Fuller,^ that
his chamber was the rendezvous of all "the wits,
philosophers, and divines of the period ; " but it has
been conjectured, not improbably, that .there is some
confusion betwixt this traditionary repute of the
father as a student, and the subsequent well-known
social position occupied by his son in connection
1 Worthies of England, quoted we have failed to verify the re-
by Wood and in Biog. Brit., but ference.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 79
with Oxford. After being Introduced at Court, Sir
Henry Cary rose rapidly from post to post till he
became a Privy Councillor In 161 7, and in 1620 was
created Viscount of Falkland, in the county of Fife,
in Scotland, in pursuance of a policy begun by James
and continued by Charles of bestowing Scotch titles
upon Englishmen, with an idea of thereby bringing
the two countries into union. Under this title he pro
ceeded to Ireland two years later, where he governed
as Lord Deputy till 1629. He was then recalled in
disgrace — a victim to intrigues both in Ireland and
the English Court. On the one hand, he has been
blamed for keeping too strict a rein over the Roman
Catholics ; and on the other hand, Leland, in his
' History of Ireland,' accuses his government of in
dolence and weakness. The truth appears to be,
that he failed to appreciate Charles's true designs, or
to make himself useful In furthering them. He was
evidently an ambitious, strong-tempered, and accom
plished man, with more address In gaining power
than ability in maintaining it. His later position
at the English Court, without definite trust or em
ployment, must have been highly uncomfortable.
Clarendon speaks of his " broken fortunes ; " and his
relations to his son, after the latter's marriage without
his approval, cannot have added to his happiness.
He composed a ' History of the most unfortunate
Prince, King Edward II.,' which was not published
till 1680 ; and an epitaph — " not bad," Walpole says
— on Elizabeth, Countess of Huntingdon.^ He was
also remarkable, according to the same authority,
" for an Invention to prevent his name being counter-
1 This epitaph is also, and more probably, ascribed to the son.

8o LORD FALKLAND :
felted, by artfully concealing in it the successive
year of his age."^
The mother of Lucius was the " sole daughter and
heir" of Sir Lawrence Tenfield, Chief Baron of Ex
chequer. We know little of her beyond the fact of
her perversion to Romanism. She was so devoted to
her new faith, that she came. In 1634, under the
notice of Laud, who, in a letter to the King, dated
July in that year, asks leaLve to bring the "old lady,"
for her interfering zeal, before the Court of High
Commission.^ She was, like Buckingham's mother,
one of the victims of the Jesuit missionaries who
then infested England, and seems to have carried
with her not only her daughters, but her younger
sons. This Is to be remembered in connection with
F"alkland's earnestness on the subject of Infallibility.
If himself unmoved by the same influences, he had
yet in many ways been brought into contact with
the unceasing activity and marvellous seductions of
Jesuitism. Lucius Cary was born, according to the common
authorities,^ at Burford, a market-town in Oxford
shire, about the year 16 10. The manor of Great
Tew, which afterwards became so associated with
his name as his favourite residence, and the rendez
vous of his poetical and theological friends, was in
the immediate neighbourhood. This and another
estate,* which Is described by Wood as the " priory,
^ Royal and Noble Authors, There is no record of the birth in
V. 72. the public register of the place,
^ Masson's Milton, i. 639, which commences about the be-
640. ginning of the reign of James I.
' Biog. Brit., Wood, Ath. Oxon. * Clarendon says that his grand-

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 8 1
with the rectory and demesnes of Burford," were
the property of his maternal grandfather, and came
to him by direct inheritance. Wood infers that
he was born at Burford, because from inquiry at
the "ancients of that town," he learned that he
was certainly nursed there. Lucius was accordingly
about twelve years of age when his father went to
Ireland as Lord Deputy in 1622. Immediately
thereafter he appears to have begun his studies at
Trinity College, Dublin. All contemporary registers
have disappeared, and we can only conjecture what
his course of education was by its results. Clarendon
says that he made better progress in academic " exer
cises and languages than most men do in more cele
brated places — insomuch as when he came into Eng
land, which was when he was about the age of
eighteen years, he was not only master of the Latin
tongue, and had read all the poets, and other of the
best authors with notable judgment for that age, but
he understood, and spake, and writ French, as if he
had spent many years in France." ^
The religious influences which surrounded him in
Trinity College were decidedly Calvinistic, inclining
to Puritanism. In the close of Elizabeth's reign,
Ireland became the refuge of many of the reforming
divines uneasy under the prelatic restraints which
father settled his property " in pleasant country, and the two
such manner upon his grandson, most pleasant places in that
Sir Lucius Cary, without taking country, with a very plentiful
notice of his father or mother, personal estate, fell into his hands
that upon his grandmother's death and possession, and to his entire
all the land, with two very good disposal." — Life, p. 43.
houses, very well furnished (worth ^ Life, p. 42, 43.
above ;^2O0o per annum), in a most
VOL. I. F

82 LORD FALKLAND

hemmed them about in England ; and Trinity Col
lege at its foundation in 1593 was supplied with
eminent Calvinistic professors from Cambridge. The
Irish Articles of 161 5 remain the abiding memorial
of the hardy predestinarianism of the Irish Pro
testant Church. Usher, their reputed author, was
Provost of Trinity College when young Falkland
entered it, and during his time of study here — in
1624— was promoted to the Irish Primacy. It is
not improbable that the theological atmosphere which
thus surrounded our young student influenced him
through life. For, unlike his friends. Hales and
Chillingworth, Falkland seems to have remained a
Calvinist,'' and even strongly denounced Arminian
ism along with Popery in his first speeches in the
Long Parliament. Nor is it impossible that he
derived from this early time the first impulse to
wards those latitudinarian views of Church govern
ment for which he was afterwards distinguished.
For the university authorities in Dublin, and Usher
conspicuously — strange as this may seem — were
no less remarkable for their liberal ecclesiasticism
than for their rigid doctrinal orthodoxy. They
strongly rejected that idea of a jus divinum of
Episcopacy which had been spreading in England
from the beginning of the century, and advocated a
modified Episcopal organisation which left room for
presbyterial action and certain elements of popular
or congregational freedom.
On his return to England, it has been alleged that
Falkland entered St John's College, Oxford. But
' See subsequent page as to Aubrey's charge of Socinianism.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH.

83

there is no evidence of this : his name does not occur
in the register of St John's, Oxford ; and the story,
frequently repeated, has probably arisen from the
fact that, so early as 1621, before his father went to
Ireland, he appears to have been entered with his
brother Lorenzo at St John's, Cambridge. This at
least is the Inference left to be drawn from a statement
in Baker's history of this College, recently printed, as
well as from a letter of Falkland's addressed to Dr
Beale, the head ofthe College, in January 1641-2.'^

^ The fact remains doubtful not
withstanding, and we have not
been able to clear it up. The Biog.
Brit, expressly says, " There is no
account of his admittance in St
John's College registers." If ad
mitted in 162 1, it can only have
been with a view to future attend
ance, which never took place — the
father's departure for Ireland
having led to the abandonment
of the plan of his son's studying
at Cambridge. The statement
in Baker's history occurs in the
• Catalogus Episcoporum qui e
Collegio Divi Joannes Evan-
gelistas prodierunt,' printed pp.
242-80, vol. i. of the volumes re
cently edited by Mr Mayor of St
John's (1869), and is as follows :
" Robertus Dawson natus Ken-
dalae . . . admissus est Socius
Coll. Jo. pro doctore Lupton Apr.
6, an. 1609 : bach, theol. an. 1620;
non diu moram traxit apud nos,
admissus in familiam Henrici
Vicecomitis Falkland proregis, fac-
tus illius sacellanus eique (ni fal-
ler) debemus quod Lucius Caryfl-
ius primogenitus vicecomitis Falk

land admissus est in collegium an.
1621 (una cum fratre suo Lorenzo
Cary) in honorem coUegii," p. 263.
The following is the letter address
ed by Falkland to Dr Beale, the
head of the College, in the begin
ning of 1641-2 : —
" Sir, — I received lately a letter
from your selfe and others of your
noble society, wherein as many titles
were given me to which I had none,
so that which I shold most willingly
have acknowledged and mought with
most justice clayme, you were not
pleased to vouchsafe me, that is, that
of a St fohtCs man. I confess I am
both proud and ashamed of that, and
the latter in respect that the fruites
are unproportionable to the seed-plott.
Yet, S"^, as little learning as I brought
from you, and as little as I have since
encreased and watered what I did
bring, I am sure that I shall carry
about with me an indelible character
of affection and duty to that society,
and an extraordinary longing for some
occasion of expressing that affection
and that duty. I shall desire you to
express this to them, and to adde this,
that as I shall never forgett myself to be
a member of their Body, so I shall be
ready to catch at all meanes of de-

84

LORD FALKLAND

It Is clear, on other grounds, that academic study
cannot have been Falkland's occupation during the
years that followed his return to England. Within
a year of this event he succeeded to his grand
father's estates. Clarendon expressly says that this
took place " about the time that he was nineteen
years of age," ^ or in 1629. About the same time
he had begun to form those literary connections
which became so great a feature in his life. This
is evident from Ben Jonson's verses, in the
series of poems which he has entitled ' Under
woods.' 2 The verses are inscribed — " To the im
mortal memory and friendship of that noble pair.
Sir Lucius Cary and Sir Henry Morison." Now
Sir Henry Morison was the brother of the lady

daring my selfe to be not only to the
Body, but every member of it, S', your
very humble servant,
"Falkland.
"Endorsed : For the Pre
sident of St John's Col
lege in Cambridge, with
my humble service."
This letter, with the Latin letter
to which it is a reply, and which
certainly does not spare epithets
such as " Rhetorem, Poetam (vah
plebeia nomina) imo vero Philo-
sophum, Militem, Politicum," is
found at p. 532, vol. i. of the edi
tion of Baker's history, from which
we have already quoted. It was
'also printed long ago in the notice
of Falkland in the ' Biographia
Britannica.' Yet in the face of all,
and even quoting the above letter
in a footnote. Lady Theresa Lewis,
in her ' Lives of the Friends and

Contemporaries of Lord Claren
don,' the first volume of which is
almost entirely given to Lord
Falkland, expressly asserts that it
was St John's College, Oxford, of
which he was a member. " He
playfully alludes to this circum
stance," she says, " in speaking of
himself as 'a St John's man.' "
The Parish History of Burford
also says that " Lucius Cary com
pleted his education after Dublin
by a residence at Oxford."
1 Life, p. 43.
* " As the multitude call tim
ber-trees promiscuously growing
a wood or forest, so I am bold to
entitle these lesser poems of lesser
growth by this of Underwood, out
of the analogy they hold to the
forest in my former book, and no
otherwise." — Ben Jonson : " To
the Reader."

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 85
whom Falkland married " before he was of age ;" ^
and, previous to this event, Morison died. We must
suppose, therefore, not only his courtship, but the
commencement and completion of this memorable
friendship in which Jonson shared, to have been
embraced within these years. Both Morison and
Falkland had plainly made a strong impression
upon Jonson and the literary society to which he
belonged ; and the verses in which he describes
their affection for each other, and seeks consolation
for Morison's untimely death, are here and there
very touching. Nothing, for example, can be more
exquisite than the following lines, which might be
applied prophetically to Falkland himself : —
" It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make men better be ;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year.
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear :
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night ;
It was the plant, the flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see ;
And in short measures, life may perfect be."
Thus early young Falkland was launched upon
the world, and become known as the friend of Ben
Jonson and the bright circle of poetic wits — Suck
ling, Davenant, Carew, and others — that formed his
earliest literary and social connection.
But during this period (1629-31), he was busy not
only with such distractions, but with others still more
incompatible with quiet academic study. He was a
1 Clar. Life, p. 44-

86 LORD FALKLAND

prisoner in the Fleet for misdemeanour during ten
days in the commencement of 1630.^ In a letter or
petition ^ from his father to the King at this time.
Lord Falkland says : " I had a son, until I lost him
in your Highness's displeasure where I cannot seek
him, because I have not will to find him there. Men
say there is a wild young man now prisoner in the
Fleet for measuring his actions by his own private
fence." This was no doubt the source of Wood's
statement^ that Lucius was "a wild youth ;" and the
suggestion has been tempting to biographical gossip.
The full explanation of the affair, however, is given in
the correspondence and extracts from the Council
Register presented in the appendix to Lady Lewis's
volume. It appears that a " company" of which young
Falkland had the command was transferred by order
of the King to Sir Francis Willoughby. Willoughby
explains at length that he had nothing to do with
the act of transference ; but our young soldier is
highly indignant, and demands satisfaction with the
sword. " I doe confesse youe," he says, " a brave
gentleman (and for myne owne sake I would not but
have my adversary be soe), but I knowe noe reason
why, therefore, you showld have my breechez,
which yf every brave man showld have, I showld be
fayne shortly toe begg in trowses. I dowght not but
youe will give me satisfaction with your sworde, of
which yf you will send me the lengthe, with tyme
and place, youe shal be sure (according toe an
' January 17-27, 1629-30. printed in the Biog. Brit, as well
' The letter is preserved in the as by Lady Lewis.
collection called ' Cabala,' and ^ Ath. Oxon.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 87
appointment) toe meete." He was evidently a fiery
and high-tempered gentleman at the age of twenty,
and resolved, as he himself says, as he could not
" strike at the head, to strike at the stone that lies
lower." The result was that a warrant was Issued
from Whitehall to the warden of the Fleet " to re
ceive into his custody the person of Sir Lucius Cary,
and to keep him prisoner until further order." Hap
pily the order for his liberation is dated, as we have
indicated, only ten days later, — so that the interven
tion of his father appears to have been successful.
There is no information as to the King's purpose
throughout the business, or as to whether the with
drawal of the son's command had anything to do
with the father's dishonoured position at Court.
Whatever its cause may have been, the slight. It is
plain, was deeply resented by young Cary, driving
him as it did beyond all reasonable bounds of quarrel
with his successor in the command of the company.
It may be doubted whether it was ever entirely for
gotten amidst all the painful experience which Falk
land had of the after-conduct of the King.
Falkland's marriage was not without the romantic
Interest which attaches more or less to all his life.
The lady, we have seen, was the sister of his be
loved friend and companion,^ and he married her in
spite of his father's earnest wishes to form a richer
and more noble alliance for him. So strongly did
the latter resent his son's conduct, that he broke off
all connection with him, and refused all offers of
> The father was Sir Richard Morison, of Tooley Park, Leicester
shire.

88 LORD FALKLAND :
mediation. The affair, as described by Clarendon, well
illustrates the temper of both father and son. " In a
short time after he had possession of the estate his
grandfather had left him, and before he was of age,
he committed a fault against his father, in marrying
a young lady whom he passionately loved, without
any considerable portion, which exceedingly offended
him, and disappointed all his reasonable hopes and
expectation of redeeming and repairing his own broken
fortune and desperate hopes In Court, by some advan
tageous marriage of his son, about which he had then
some probable treaty. Sir Lucius Cary was very con
scious to himself of his offence and transgression, and
the consequence of it, which though he could notrepent,
having married a lady of a most extraordinary wit
and judgment, and of the most signal virtue and ex
emplary life that the age produced,^ and who brought
1 The character which Claren- situdes of comfort and grief." The
don gives to Lady Falkland does letters are not her own, but com-
not appear overdrawn, and it is posed, as well as the answers to
somewhat singular that we hear them, by the author of the volume,
so little of her. For her life had thus giving, as he says, " not a
a distinct religious interest of its strict relation, but a representa-
own. A small volume entitled tion." "Having learned all her
"The Holy Life and Death of the objections against herself," he
Lady Letece, Vi-Countess Falk- explains, "and having seen the
land, &c., by John Duncon Parson chief sorrow of her heart, I com-
(sequestered)," ran through seve- posed them into these letters, and
ral editions in the period preced- annexed these answers to them,
ing the Restoration. The edition and left them with her." In
before us is the third, bearing short, " the lineaments are drawn
the date of 1653. It contains not from the holy lady's soul — not ex-
only a life, but certain letters, all actly," but with a view to the gene-
designed to set forth the many ral purposes of a pious manual.
excellent virtues of the Lady From such a volume it is not easy
Falkland, and to present " the to glean any clear outline of facts,
figure of a pious soul, with its vicis- or indeed of character; yet the

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH.

89

him many hopeful children in which he took great
delight, yet he confessed it, with the most sincere
and dutiful applications to his father for his pardon
that could be made ; and for the prejudice he had

somewhat vague " lineaments '"
which it records, evidently shows
that Lady Falkland was no or
dinary person. She seems quite
entitled to take her place beside
Mrs Hutchison, or Evelyn's accom
plished and pious friend. Lady
Margaret Godolphin, who on op
posite sides gave the lustre of their
simple, earnest, and unaffected
piety to soften and irradiate the
miseries of a period of gloomy reli
gious conflict. We are told " She
spent some hours every day in her
private cloisters and meditations,
and these were called her busy
hours. . . . Then her maids came
into her chamber every morning,
and ordinarily she passed about
an hour with them in praying,
catechising, and instructing them.
. . . On the Lord's Day she rose
in the morning earlier than or
dinarily, yet enjoined herself so
much private duty with her chil
dren and servants (examining
them in the sermons and cate-
chisings), and with her own soul,
that oftentimes the day was too
short for her. . . . There was
near acquaintance between her
and some strict Papists, and as
near between her and some strict
er Nonconformists, and she not
only warily avoided the supersti
tion of the one, and the noncon
formity of the other, but also ear
nestly laboured to reduce the one
and the other from their erroneous

ways. ... Her young and most
dear son Lorenzo (whom God had
endowed with the cleverest of
natural abilities, and to whom her
affections were most tender by
reason of these fair blossoms of
piety) God takes away from her.
This added to her former troubles
of the loss of her husband, of her
crosses in the world, and her spir
itual afflictions."
Enough has been extracted to
bring the picture of a fair and
high character before the reader ;
and yet this is the same lady of
whom Aubrey, in his sketch of
her husband, tells the following
ridiculous and unworthy story :
"When she had a mind to beg
anything of my lord for one of
her maids, women, nurses, she
would say (however unreasonable
the request) ' I warrant you, for
all this, I will obtain it of my
lord ; it will cost me but the ex
pense of a few tears! Now she
could make her words good ; and
this great wit, the greatest master
of reason and judgment of his
time, at the long-run, being storm
ed by her tears (I presume there
were kisses and secret embraces
that were also ingredients), would
this pious lady obtain her un
reasonable desires of her lord."
Those who can believe a story of
this kind may also believe Au
brey's further scandal, "that it
was the grief of the death of Mrs

90 LORD FALKLAND :
brought upon his fortune, by bringing no fortune
to him, he offered to repair it by resigning his
whole estate to his disposal, and to rely wholly
upon his kindness for his own maintenance and sup
port ; and to that purpose he had caused convey
ances to be drawn by counsel, which he brought
ready engrossed to his father, and was willing to
seal and execute them, that they might be valid :
but his father's passion and indignation so far trans
ported him (though he was a gentleman of excellent
parts), that he refused any reconciliation, and re
jected all the offers that were made him of the estate,
so that his son remained still in the possession of
his estate against his will, for which he found great
reason afterwards to rejoice." ^
In consequence of this disagreement with his
father, and probably also on account of his unplea
sant relations with the Court, and the frustration
at home of the military ambition which he had
cherished, and which remained one of his strongest
impulses,^ he " transported himself and his wife into
Holland— resolving," says Clarendon, " to buy some
military command and to spend the remainder of his
life in that profession." Here also, however, disap-
Moray, a handsome lady at Court, acter, or indeed in any matters
who was his m.istress, and whom save those personal details and
he loved above all creatures, was recollections which lie within the
the true cause of his (Falkland's) province of the gossip.
being so madly guilty of his own ^ Clar., p. 44, 45.
death." In a future page we dis- ^ " In his natural inclination,"
cuss the credibility of Aubrey's says Clarendon (History, ii. 453,
statements, and show how entirely Def., Press.), " he acknowledged
undeserving of trust they must be that he was addicted to the pro-
held in matters of opinion or char- fession of a soldier."

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 91
polntment awaited him. He found no scope for his
military aspirations, and returned again within a
brief interval to England. Holland was at this
time resting after its long internal conflicts, follow
ing the independence which it had so bravely won
under the great William of Orange and his son.
Maurice's death had brought comparative peace to
the raging factions of Gomarists and Remonstrants
which had divided it; and in the very year (163 1)
of Falkland's visit, Grotius had returned from his
long exile In France, and been temporarily received
with great rejoicing throughout the country which
had treated him so shamefully. It Is not improbable
that our enthusiastic young Englishman, with that
singular affinity which he had for whatever was
noble and distinguished In character, may have made,
during his visit, the acquaintance of the great jurist
and divine. The verses which he afterwards in
scribed to him,^ are full, not only of lofty admiration,
but of some warmth of personal feeling : — -
" Our Age's warder, by thy birth the fame
Of Belgia, by thy banishment the shame.
. . . thy age and art seemed to unite.
At once the youth of Phoebus and the light.
. . . your acquaintance all of worth pursue,
And count it honour to be known of you."
He had evidently in any case studied Grotius, and
felt his own love of truth and clearness of thought
developed by contact with this luminous, liberal, and
eminently rational intellect.
1 Prefixed to George Sandys' translation of Grotius' Tragedy of
Christ's Passion.

92 LORD FALKLAND

"Though Truth doe naked to thy sight appeare,
And scarce can we doubt more then thou can'st cleare ;
Though thou at once dost diferent glories joyne,
A loftie Poet and a deep Divine ;
Canst in the purest phrase cloath solid sence,
Scaevola's law in Tully's eloquence ;
Though thy employments have exceld thy pen,
Shew'd thee much skil'd in books, but more in men,
And prov'd thou canst at the same easy rate.
Correct an author, as uphold a State.
All this yet of thy worth makes but a part
And we admire thy head lesse then thy heart ;
Which (when in want) was yet too brave to close
(Though woo'd) with thy ungratefull countrie's foes.
Since all our praise and wonder is too small.
For each of these, what shall we give for all ?
All that we can, we doe — a pen divine,
And differing onely in the tongue from thine,
Doth thy choice labours with successe rehearse.
And to another world transplants thy verse ;
At the same height to which before they rose.
When they forc'd wonder from unwilling foes :
Now Thames with Ganges may thy labours praise
Which there breed faith, and here devotion raise."''
On Falkland's return to England he abandoned
for the time all political and military pursuits, and
retired to his residence at Great Tew — "to a country
life, and to his books ; that since he was not like
to improve himself in arms, he might advance in
letters." This must have been in the course of
1632; and now for seven years, during all the un
happy period of Wentworth's and Laud's tyrannies,
known as " Thorough,"^ Falkland is to be conceived
^ A reference to Grotius' well- design of which was the conver-
known treatise ' De Veritate Re- sion of the Indians.
ligionis Christianse' — the original ' " The word ' Thorough' as de-

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 93
In the main as settled on his estates in Oxfordshire,
engaged in the study of Greek — classical and patris
tic — completing his education, pursued In so des
ultory a manner during the three preceding years — ¦
elaborating those religious and political opinions
which were to guide his public career — and gather
ing around him that group of thinkers which, though
they exercised for a while but little influence on the
course of affairs, were even then acknowledged to
be a distinct and significant party. The progress of
violence first on the one side and then on the other
had Its way, and bore down both him and them ;
but the influence of their opinion survived, and con
tinued to gather force with advancing thought, and
the resurgence of excited passions on both sides.
We have no particular information as to the manner
in which Falkland and his friends looked upon the
doings of Wentworth and Laud. But In the light of
his later speeches on Episcopacy there is little diffi
culty In understanding his feelings, and the deep in
dignation which the prevalent ecclesiastical cruelties
must have excited in his breast. It is strange to
fining the policy of the Govern- future letters, writing it sometimes
ment from 1633 onwards, appears in cipher, sometimes openly. Thus
first in the correspondence be- Wentworth to Laud, Aug. 23,
tween Laud and Wentworth. 'As 1634 : ' Go as it shall please God
for the State,' says Laud, writing with me, believe me, my lord, I
to Wentworth, Sept. 9, 1633, 'in- will be Thorough and Thorough-
deed, my lord, I am for Thorough, out, one and the same;' to which
but I see that both thick and thin Laud replies, Oct. 20 ; ' As for my
stays somebody where I conceive marginal note, I see you decipher-
it should not, and it is impossible ed it well, and I see you make
for me to go Thorough alone.' useofittoo: do so still: 7'^^r^«^^
The word once introduced, they and Thorough! " — Masson's Mil-
play upon it between them in ton, p. 620, 621.

94 LORD FALKLAND :
reflect on the outrages against religious liberty which
were proceeding during the very time that Falkland
and Chillingworth were debating over the ' Religion
of Protestants.' In the same year In which Chil
lingworth's great work — which had been argued
out betwixt the two friends, and mainly composed
at Falkland's residence — saw the light, Prynne, and
Bastwick, and Burton, had their ears cut off In
Palace Yard, Westminster, for venturing to impugn
the prelatic constitution of the Church of England.
The period was one in which all wise men were
more or less in retirement, and when many, as is
well known, would have gladly left England for
ever if they had not been prevented — unwittingly
detained on the part of those who interfered with
them for higher work at home.^
The death of his father in 1633 formed a tem
porary break in his retirement. It took him back
to London sooner than he Intended, and of course
weighted him with cares and duties from which
he had been hitherto exempt. The fact of his
having been thus obliged to return unexpectedly
to London is particularly noticed by Clarendon.
He had declared, when he went to the country,
that " he would not see London in many years,
which was the place he loved of all the world;" but
now his father's death by an unhappy accident —
a fall which he had from " a stand in Theobald's
Park " — " made his repair to London absolutely
' Hampden and Cromwell both, their minds to emigrate, when
it is well known, along with others Charles's tyrannic policy — blind in
destined to be conspicuous in the every direction — interfered to pre-
ensuing troubles, had made up vent them.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 95
necessary in fewer years than he had proposed for
his absence." He does not seem, however, with all
his fondness for town and its companionships, to
have tarried longer in it on this occasion than was
necessary. As soon as he had finished the transac
tions consequent on the death of his father, " he retired
again to his country life, and to his severe course of
study, which was very delightful to him as soon as
he was engaged In it ; but he was wont to say, that
he never found reluctancy in anything he resolved
to do, but In his quitting London, and departing
from the conversation of those he enjoyed there ;
which was in some degree preserved and continued
by frequent letters, and often visits, which were made
by his friends from thence, whilst he continued
wedded to the country."^
It is evident that Falkland had two sets of friends
among his Intellectual contemporaries, and that the
graver philosophical and theological set, to which
Clarendon specially alludes, came in some degree
in succession to the poetic friends of his youth.
Gradually he abandoned poetry for divinity ; and it
is in the later years of his residence at Tew, follow
ing his second retirement after his father's death —
say from 1635 to the spring of 1639 — that we may
conceive him to have added divines such as Ham
mond, and Sheldon, and Morley to his acquaintance,
and converted his society Into the convivium theo
logicum so well described by Clarendon. Suckling's
well-known lines imply this ; while, along with his
own verses on the death of Ben Jonson, they bring
^ Clar. Life, p. 47.

96 LORD FALKLAND

before us a vivid picture of that earlier group of the
" wits of the town" whose companionship and con
versation were so enjoyable to him when in London.
It is interesting to notice that Hales and Chilling
worth are both mentioned in Suckling's lines ; and
so we gather that they were amongst Falkland's
friends in his earlier as well as his later mood of
mind, and were indeed his friends and intellectual
associates in a sense which can hardly be supposed
true of men like Sheldon and Morley. It was
natural for Clarendon writing after the Restoration
to emphasise such names, but Falkland himself
would probably have dwelt more upon the bright
circle of his more youthful years : —
" Digby, Carew, Killigrew, and Maine,
Godolphin, Waller, that inspired traine.''^
The list is more fully given by Suckling, and
deserves to be transferred to our pages for its own
sake, as well as for the pleasant glimpse which it
gives us of a bygone literary society, of which Falk
land was evidently a conspicuous member.
" There Selden, and he sat hard by the chair ;
Weniman not far off, which was very fair ;
Sands with Townsend, for they keep no order,
Digby and Shillingworth a little further :
^ Eclogue on the death of Ben same names are found associated
Jonson. Ofthe less known names with Falkland's own in George
of Killigrew and Maine, it may Daniel's MS. poems : —
be mentioned that the first was "The nohle Fal&tand, Digbie, Carew,
King Charles's Jester, and the Maine.
second Dr Jasper Mayne, a dra- Beaumond, Sands," &c.
matist and versifier, as well as — Falkland's Poems, ed. by Rev.
preacher of the period. The A. B. Grossart— 1871 : note, p. 48.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH,

And there was Lucan's translator too, and he
That makes God speak so big in 's poetry ;
Selwin and Walter, and Bartlets both the brothers.
Jack Vaughan and Porter, and divers others.
The first that broke silence was good old Ben,
Prepar'd before with Canary wine.
And he told them plainly he deserv'd the bays,
For his were call'd works, where others were but plays.
Tom Carew was next, but he had a fault
That would not well stand with a laureate ;
His muse was hard bound, and th' issue of 's brain
Was seldom brought forth but with trouble and pain.
Will Davenant, asham'd of a foolish mischief
That he had got lately travelling in France,
Modestly hoped the handsomeness of his muse
Might any deformity about him excuse.
Suckling next was call'd, but did not appear :
But straight one whisper'd Apollo i' th' ear.
That of all men living he cared not for't.
He loved not the muses so well as his sport.
Wat Montague now stood forth to his trial,
And did not so much as expect a denial ;
But witty Apollo asked him first of all
If he understood his own pastoral.
Hales, set by himself, most gravely did smile
To see them about nothing keep such a coil ;
Apollo had spied him, but knowing his mind.
Past by, and called Falkland that sat just behind.
H^ was of late so gone with divinity
That he had almost forgot his poetry.
Though to say the truth, and Apollo did know it,
He might have been both his priest and his poet."
VOL. I. G

98 LORD FALKLAND

It is impossible to draw out into the light such a
group of names, some of whom have left no impress
upon our literature, and no memory of any kind.
But, passing by in the mean time Hales and Chil
lingworth, who will afterwards appear prominently
in our pages, there are a few of the others that
claim recognition both in connection with Falkland
personally and with our subject.
Selden's is the first, and in some respects the most
distinguished. He was at this time — say 1637, when
Suckling's verses were published — about fifty years
of age, and had long enjoyed an exceptional reputa
tion for the extent and variety of his learning. His
famous treatise on Tithes had appeared about twenty
years before (16 18). " By the help of a strong body
and a vast memory," says Wood, he had become " a
prodigy in most parts of learning, especially In those
which were not common. He had great skill in the
divine and human laws ; he was a great philologist,
antiquary, herald, linguist, statesman, and what not."
Clarendon ^ is even more enthusiastic : " He was of
so stupendous learning in all kinds and in all lan
guages (as may appear in his excellent and tran
scendent writings), that a man would have thought
he had been entirely conversant among books, and
had never spent an hour but in reading and writing ;
yet his humanity, courtesy, and affability was such
that he would have been thought to have been bred
in the best courts, but that his good-nature, charity,
and delight in doing good, and in communicating all
he knew, exceeded that breeding." While in his
1 Life, p. 35.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 99
writings his style "seems harsh and sometimes ob
scure, in his conversation he was the most clear dis-
courser, and had the best faculty of making hard
things easy, and presenting them to the understand
ing of any man that hath been known." A great
friend of Ben -Jonson, he belonged himself in a
slight way to the poetic fraternity as an occasional
writer of verses in English, as well as in Greek and
Latin. Falkland greatly admired him, and, accord
ing to Clarendon, " knew him so well " that he
became on an important occasion, on which Charles
wished to influence Selden, the medium of commu
nication between him and the King. He may have
learned from the older statesman's cynical thought
fulness and contempt of extremes, something of his
own clearness and liberality in religious matters.
Selden's facility during the troubles that ensued
has been blamed ; but there is no reason to doubt
that he was animated throughout by a sincere love
of liberty — that liberty which, according to his
own chosen motto, was " above everything."^ He
had been early disgusted at the bishops by the treat
ment to which they subjected him after the publication
of his book on Tithes. Their usage "sunk deep
into his stomach," and he was heartily glad when
the storm swept them away. But while he worked
with the Puritan party, he was entirely free from
their prejudices. A story is told by Whitelock of
the delight which he took in perplexing some of the
divines in the Westminster Assembly, of which he
was an active member. Sometimes when they had
' Ufpi TravTos tt)!/ eXevBepiav.

,100 LORD FALKLAND :
cited a text of Scripture to prove their assertions, he
would say, " Perhaps in your little pocket-Bibles with
gilt leaves [which they would often pull out and
read] the translation may be thus, but the Greek
and the Hebrew signify thus and thus," and so would
totally silence them. There is something of in
solence as well as wit, it must be allowed, in this
story. Many of the Westminster divines must have
been quite a match for even Selden in Biblical learn
ing. Yet a tradition of this kind serves to show the
spirit of the great lawyer. He had evidently no
love for the clergy, either Episcopal or Puritan, and
especially detested clerical prejudices, the pretensions
to special orthodoxy, and the dogmatic opinionatlve-
ness so prevalent In his time. One of the best and
most characteristic of his sayings in his ' Table-
Talk,' which is hardly worthy of his reputation as
a whole, clearly and admirably shows this. " 'Tis
vain to talk of an heretic, for a man for his heart
can think no otherwise than he does think. In
the primitive times there were many opinions ; noth
ing scarce but some or other held. One of these
opinions being embraced by some prince, and re
ceived into his kingdom, the rest were condemned
as heresies ; and his religion, which was but one of
the several opinions, first is said to be orthodox, and
so to have continued ever since the apostles."^
George Sandys (the " Sands " of the poem) was
one of Falkland's choicest friends not mentioned by
Clarendon at all. He was the youngest son of the
Archbishop of York, whose sufferings In the cause
' Table- Talk, p. 105, 106. Singer's ed., 1856.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. lOI
of the Reformation, and subsequent promotion in the
reign of Elizabeth, are well known, and the brother
of Hooker's pupil associated with the half-pathetic,
half-ludicrous story of the great author of the ' Laws
of Ecclesiastical Polity' "rocking the cradle" in his
parsonage at Drayton Beauchamp. He was more
than thirty years Falkland's senior, having been born
in 1577 ; but peculiar ties of sympathy and affection
seem to have united them. Twice he Inscribes
verses " To my noble friend, Mr George Sandys,
upon his excellent Paraphrase on the Psalms;" and
again, " Upon his Job, Ecclesiastes, and the Lamenta
tions, clearly, learnedly, and eloquently paraphrased."
The lines to Hugo Grotius, from which we have
already quoted, are also prefixed to a translation by
Sandys. He was a great traveller as well as a
translator and versifier, having visited not only the
" several parts of Europe, but many cities and
countries of the East," extending to the Holy Land.
His travels were published in 16 15, and widely read
with great interest. Falkland evidently felt a special
attraction in his fame as a traveller and his stores
of foreign observation and experience. He assures
Grotius
" None hath a larger heart, a fuller head,
For he hath seen as much as you have read :
The neerer countries past, his steps have prest
The new-found world, and trod the sacred East ;
Whfere, his brows due, the loftier palmes doe rise
Where the proud Pyramids invade the skies ;
And, as all think who his rare friendship ovra,
Deserves no lesse a journey to be known.
 His travels were his choice,

102 LORD FALKLAND

And all those numerous realmes, returnd agen,
Anew he travel'd over with his pen.
And, Homer to himselfe, doth entertaine.
With truths more usefull then his Muse could faine.
Next Ovid's Transformations he translates
With so rare art, that those which he relates
Yeeld to this transmutation, and the change
Of men to birds and trees, appeares not strange :
Next the poetick parts of Scripture on
His loome he weaves, and Job and Solomon
His pen restores with all that heavenly quire.
And shakes the dust from David's solemn lyre.
From which, from all with just consent he wan
The title of the English Buchanan." ^
In the verses directly inscribed to Sandys there
is the same admiring enthusiasm, combined with a
genuine warmth of personal feeling. Stress is laid
upon the smoothness of Sandys' versification, which
has also been highly commended by Dryden.
Falkland contrasts It with his own imperfect at
tempts : —
" Such is the verse thou writ'st, that who reads thine
Can never be content to suffer mine ;
Such is the verse I write, that reading mine
I hardly can beleeve I have read thine ;
And wonder that their excellence once knowne,
I nor correct, nor yet conceale, mine owne." ^
Again, he pays his friend a compliment, more than
once repeated, for the high and sacred strain of his
verse : — " Now thou hast
Diverted to a purer path thy quill.
And changed Parnassus' Mount to Zion's Hill ;
So that blest David might almost desire
To heare his harp thus echo'd by thy lyre.
1 Poems, p. 75-77. " Ibid., p. 90.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 103
Those who make wit their curse, who spend their brain,
Their time, and ai-t in looser verse, to gain
Damnation and a mistres, till they see
How constant that is, how inconstant she.
May from this great example learne to sway
The parts th' are blest with, some more blessed way." 1
Occasional allusions may be traced to the questions
of the time which seem to indicate a fellow-feeling
and coincidence of opinion betwixt the two friends
regarding the favourite ideas of the Laudians and
the absurd pretensions of Popery. Referring to the
site of the early Eastern Churches, described by
Sandys In his travels, he says : —
" In whom these notes, so much required, be
Agreement, miracles, antiquity,
Which can a never-broke succession show
From the Apostles down (here bragg'd of so) ;
So but confute her most immodest claime
Wlio scorn a part, yet to be all doth aime." ^
Finally, there Is in the closing poem to Sandys,
probably the last that Falkland wrote, a fine and
touching passage, which seems to forecast his own
death, the pathetic beauty of which mingles strangely
and solemnly with cheerful anticipations of his
friend's future fame : —
" Howe're, I finish here ; my Muse her daies
Ends in expressing thy deserved praise.
Whose fate in this seemes fortunately cast,
To have so just an action for her last.
And since there are who have been taught that death
Inspireth prophecie, expelling breath,
I hope when these foretell what happie gaines
Posteritie shall reape from these thy paines,
Nor yet from these alone, but how thy pen,
1 Poems, p. 82, 83. " Ibid., p. 80.

I04 LORD FALKLAND :
Earthlike, shall yearly give new gifts to men ;
And thou fresh praise and wee fresh good receive.
. . . The so-taught will not beliefe refuse
To the last accents of a dying Muse." -^
Of Thomas Carew and Sir William Davenant —
the former the well-known author of some exqui
site love-verses, and " one of the most celebrated
wits " 2 of the time ; the latter, poet-laureate after
Jonson — it is unnecessary to speak. Both were
eminent members of the poetic fraternity with which
Falkland mingled ; but there is no reason to think
that either was among his special friends. With
Jonson himself, however, his relations were highly
cordial and intimate, while difference of age lent
something of respectful admiration to his affection.
Jonson had already learned to know and appreciate
Falkland in those early years, before 163 1, when
he and Sir Henry Morison attracted attention by
their youthful friendship —

" Till either grew a portion ofthe other,

and

lived to be the great sir-names
And titles, by which all made claims
Unto the virtue ; nothing perfect done,
But as a Cary, or a Morison." ^
At that time Jonson was the acknowledged head of
English literature. He was also still active, and im
perial in London intellectual society, although self-
' Poems, p. 91, 92. 2 Wood. » Jonson's Poems, Underwoods.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 105
indulgence ^ and a stroke of palsy had made ravages
on his massive frame. He held his court in a
place well known as the Devil Tavern, near
Temple Bar, and hither all aspiring literary enthu
siasts flocked. To be admitted to the guild of
literature which assembled in the great room in
this tavern, called " The Apollo," was to be
" sealed of the tribe of Ben," in the literary cant
of the day. Whatever may have been his faults,
Jonson was, like his later namesake, a powerful
and varied genius, whose great qualities are not
too highly extolled even in Falkland's verse. The
lines upon his death are, upon the whole, our poet's
most elaborate performance. They are in the form
of an eclogue, in which two shepherds, Hylas and
Melybseus, discourse ; and this absurd arrangement
detracts from the naturalness and simplicity of the
feeling. Yet it breaks out here and there in true
tones as well as in elaborate eulogy. It is a " doubt
ful problem," not easy to resolve —
" Which in his workes we most transcendant see
Wit, judgment, learning, art, or industry :
His learning such, no author, old or new,
Except his reading, that deserved his view ;
And such his judgement, so exact his test
As what was best in bookes, as what bookes best,
That had he join'd those notes his labours took
From each most praised and praise-deserving booke,
^ Jonson's habits of self-indul- Whatever else he wanted, "he
gence in his later years are well was sure," according to Izaak
known. Suckling probably al- Walton, "not to want wine, of
ludes to them in the lines — which he usually took too much
' ' Old Ben before he went to bed, if not oftener
Prepared before with canary wine." and sooner.

I06 LORD FALKLAND

And could the world of that choise treasure boast.
It need not care though all the rest were lost :
And such his wit, he writ past what he quotes,
And his productions farre exceed his notes.
So in his workes where ought inserted growes,
The noblest of the plants ingrafted showes,
That his adopted children equall not
The generous issue his own braine begot ;
So great his art that much which he did write
Gave the wise wonder, and the crowd delight.
Each sort as well as sex admir'd his wit.
The hees and shees, the boxes and the pit ;
And who lesse lik'd vnthin did rather chuse
To taxe their judgements than suspect his Muse.
With thoughts and wils purg'd and amended rise,
From th' ethicke lectures of his comedies,
Where the spectators act, and the sham'd age
Blusheth to meet her follies on the stage :
Where each man finds some light he never sought,
And leaves behind some vanitie he brought ;
Whose politicks no lesse the minds direct.
Then these the manners ; nor with less effect.
When his majesticke tragedies relate.
All the disorders of a tottering State,
All the distempers which on kingdomes fall
When ease, and wealth, and vice are generall."
Of the other special names mentioned by Suckling,
and In Falkland's own lines previously quoted —
Digby, Weniman, Godolphin, Waller, Montague,
and Suckling himself — all, with the exception of
Suckling and Montague, live in Clarendon's pages.
" Sir Kenelm Digby was a person very eminent
and notorious throughout the whole course of his
life, from his cradle to his grave ; of an ancient
family and noble extraction ; and Inherited a fair and
plentiful fortune, notwithstanding the attainder of his
father. He was a man of a very extraordinary per-

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 107
son and presence, which drew the eyes of all men
upon him, which were more fixed by a wonderful
graceful behaviour, a flowing courtesy and civility,
and such a volubility of language, as surprised and
delighted ; and though In another man it might have
appeared to have somewhat of affectation, it was
marvellously graceful in him, and seemed natural to
his size and mould of his person, to the gravity of
his motion, and the tune of his voice and delivery.
He had a fair reputation in arms, of which he gave
an early testimony in his youth, in some encounters
in Spain and Italy, and afterwards in an action in
the Mediterranean Sea. ... In a word, he had all
the advantages that nature and art and an excellent
education could give him, which, with a great confid
ence and presentness of mind, buoyed him up against
all prejudices and disadvantages which would have
suppressed and sunk any other man, but never clouded
or eclipsed him from appearing in the best places
and the best company, and with the best estimation
and satisfaction."^ Digby was a notorious pervert,
having been educated a Protestant, although his
father was a Catholic, and suffered for his share in
the Gunpowder Plot. His perversion took place in
France about 1635 ; and from this time he appears
to have made himself conspicuous in the French
capital for his constant intrigues with the Jesuits,
and parade of his new " persuasion, to the preju
dice of the English Church." His doings were the
subject of elaborate negotiation betwixt Lord Leices
ter, then In Paris, and Laud, in the early summer of
1 Clar. Life, vol. i. 38, 39.

I08 LORD FALKLAND :
1638.^ Aubrey says that he was called " the Mlran-
dula of his age," and had " such a goodly handsome
person, and so graceful elocution and noble address,
that had he been dropt out of the clouds in any part
of the world, he would have made himself respected."
He admits, however, that the Jesuits, who knew
him well, said, " 'Twas true, but then he must not stay
there above six weeks." The fact seems to be that,
with striking superficial qualities and an imposing
air of ability, Sir Kenelm Digby was a man distin
guished more by a certain restless liveliness of nature
than by any higher attributes of head or heart. He
belonged to the "Falkland set" before 1633; but
there is no evidence of any special or more cordial
intimacy betwixt him and Falkland.
With Sir Francis Wenman,^ however, Falkland
was allied by the closest ties. They were not only
associates of the same circle in town, but neighbours
in the country, and " in so entire friendship and con
fidence " that Sir Francis had " great authority in the
society of all Falkland's friends and acquaintance."
Of ancient and noble family, " possessed of a com
petent estate," and of high repute for " wisdom and
integrity," Wenman was greatly esteemed at Court,
but he preferred being considered simply a country
gentleman. " He was a man," adds Clarendon, "of
great sharpness of understanding, and of a piercing
judgment ; no man better understood the affections
^ Letter from Leicester to Laud, Wenman, Falkland's neighbour
quoted in Masson's Life of Mil- in Oxfordshire, although Suck-
ton, vol. i. 707. ling's editor, the Rev. Alfred Suck-
^ There can be no reasonable ling, LL.B., does not seem to have
doubt that the " Weniman " of perceived this. — Selections from
Suckling's lines was Sir Francis Suckling's Works, 1836, p. 86.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 109
and temper of the kingdom, or indeed the nature of
the nation, or discerned further the consequence of
counsels, and with what success they were like to be
attended. He was a very good Latin scholar, but
his ratiocination was above his learning ; and the
sharpness of his wit Incomparable. He was equal to
the greatest trust and employment, if he had been
ambitious of it, or solicitous for It ; but his want of
health produced a kind of laziness of mind which dis
inclined him to business, and he died a little before
the general troubles of the kingdom, which he fore
saw with wonderful concern, and when many wise
men were weary of living so long.^
Sidney Godolphin was a youth about Falkland's
own age, trained at Oxford, and recently returned
from his travels abroad. " There was never so great
a mind and spirit contained in so little room ; so
large an understanding, and so unrestrained a fancy,
in so very small a body ; so that the Lord Falkland
used to say merrily, that he thought it was a great
ingredient into his friendship for Mr Godolphin that
he was pleased to be found in his company, where
he was the properer man ; and it may be, the very
remarkableness of his little person made the sharp
ness of his wit and the composed quickness of his
judgment and understanding the more notable."^
He had been abroad on diplomatic employment with
the Earl of Leicester, and seems to have coveted
advancement with the Court at home ; but his con
stitution was hypochondriacal, and he "loved very
much to be alone," and to retire "amongst his books."
1 Life, p. 51. 2 Ibid., p. 51, 52.

no LORD FALKLAND

" He was contented to be reproached by his friends
with laziness ; and was of so nice and tender a com
position that a lltde rain or wind would disorder him,
and divert him from any short journey he had most
willingly proposed to himself ; Insomuch as when he
rid abroad with those in whose company he most
delighted, If the wind chanced to be in his face, he
would (after a little pleasant murmuring) suddenly
turn his horse and go home."^ The outbreak ofthe
civil war, however, roused him to energy, and he
embarked with vigour and earnestness in the Royal
cause. "He put himself into the first troops which
were raised in the west for the King, and bore the
uneasiness and fatigue of winter marches with an ex
emplary courage and alacrity." Like his friend, he
fell gallantly fighting in the same fatal year, 1643 —
the victim of " too brave a pursuit of the enemy Into
an obscure village in Devonshire."
Edmund Waller we feel almost reluctant to num
ber amongst Falkland's friends. His genius maybe
held to redeem his weakness. " The excellence and
power of his wit, and pleasantness of his conversa
tion," are allowed even by Clarendon, who does not
spare him, to have been " of magnitude enough to
cover a world of very great faults." But his political
cowardice is a reproach to the moderate party, which
numbered him amongst its members ; and with all
his brilliant poetic gifts and social accomplishments,
Waller's seems to have been a mean and poor nature
— selfish and pleasure-loving in prosperity, and ab
ject and servile in adversity. Society pardoned his
1 Life, p. 52.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. Ill
public baseness for his private pleasantries, which had
" power to reconcile him to those whom he had most
offended and provoked." Having forfeited his life
by his treachery to the Parliament, he saved It at the
expense of others, " and continued to his age," says
our portrait-painter exquisitely, "with that rare feli
city, that his company was acceptable where his spirit
was odious ; and he was at least pitied where he was
most detested." Falkland's friendship with him seems
to have been chiefly in the earlier years of his liter
ary enthusiasm, before the political struggles which
broke down Waller's Integrity. Poetic tastes united
them; and perhaps a common relation to Dr Morley,
who had read and studied with Waller, and who Is
said^ — although this scarcely seems likely — to have
introduced him to Falkland's society. His lines "To"
my Lord Falkland" are not distinguished by any par
ticular warmth or poetic skill,^ but they show a grace
ful and happily expressed interest in the fate of his
friend when he went forth with the King in the first
Scottish expedition in 1639,
" To civilise and to instruct the north."
Suckling himself, and " Wat Montague," claim to
1 Clarendon says this, but Wal- Of thy great soul thou art (longing to
let's first biographer asserts that it ^ *^'.^! ,, , • i,- ^ i i • .^
" & j^ ., , r- 11 Bays with that ivy which so early kissed
was his connection with the Falk- ^^^ youthful temples)-with what horror
land Society that brought him ^g
acquainted with Morley. Think on the blind events of war and
^ The following are perhaps thee !
the best lines :  '^° ^^*-^ exposing that all-knowing breast
Among the throng, as cheaply as the rest ;
"Ah, noble friend, with what impa- Where oaks and brambles (if the copse
tience all be burned)
That know thy worth, and know how Confounded lie, to the same ashes
prodigal turned."

112 LORD FALKLAND :
be mentioned in connection with our subject for
special reasons. Both were friends of Falkland ;
but not merely on this account do they deserve
notice. Suckling — strange as it may appear to
those who only know his career as a poet — wrote
a brief religious treatise, entitled ' An Account of
Religion by Reason.' There is little of thought
or genuine argument in the treatise. It is the
work of an elegant litterateur handling a subject
which he knows Imperfectly, and only from the out
side. But the mere fact is a testimony to the theo
logical excitement which then everywhere pervaded
society, and indicates the desire there must have
been in many minds, besides those whose writings
and speculations have come to the surface, to examine
the subject of religion rationally. Suckling avows
that he feared the charge of Socinianism in his under
taking. Then, as in later times, this charge was reck
lessly applied to all who thought for themselves in
religion ; or, In other words, who did not take a
side with either theological extreme. " Every
man," he says, "that offers to give an account of
religion by reason is suspected to have none at all ; "
yet he has " made no scruple to run that hazard —
not knowing why a man should not use the best
weapon his Creator hath given him for his defence."
The treatise itself, if only a meagre and imperfect
sketch of the great subjects which it touches — the
Trinity, Incarnation, Passion, and Resurrection of
our Lord — is substantially orthodox. God is de
clared "to be one, and but one; it being gross to

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. I13
imagine two omnipotents, for then neither would
be so. Yet since this good is perfectly good,
and perfect goodness cannot be without perfect
love ; nor perfect love without communication, nor
to an unequal or created — for then it must be in
ordinate ; we include a second coeternal though
begotten ; nor are these contrary, though they seem
to be so."-^ Thus theologlsed the gay Suckling at
Bath, in the year 1637; and although the points of
contact betwixt him and Falkland must have been
superficial rather than real, we can imagine them
not only contending for the " laurel," as depicted
in the well-known verses — a contention in which
our poet would have had no chance with him — but
also trying their strength in religious argument during
those stirring years. Suckling's fate was a sad one.
Elected along with his friend a member of the Long
Parliament, he had so far at first joined In the general
outcry against Strafford ; but, with a slight hold on
the deeper principles at stake In the contest, he had
left the popular party even before the impeachment,
and madly lent himself to a design for rescuing the
great Earl from the Tower. The design having been
discovered, a charge of high treason was issued by
the Parliament against Suckling and the other con
spirators.^ He fled to the Continent, and there. In
disgrace and penury, he terminated his life by his
own hand, before the close of 1642. He is said by
Aubrey to have been only twenty-eight years of age.
The same gossiping authority adds : " He was of
1 Selections from Suckling's " The affair is known as " Gor-
Works, p. 131. ing's Conspiracy."
VOL. I. H

114 LORD FALKLAND

middle stature and slight strength, brisk round eye
and reddish face ; . . .his head not very big, his
hair a kind of sand colour, and his beard turned up
naturally, so that he had a brisk and graceful look."
" Wat Montague," we may certainly say, was
the same Walter Montague with whom Falkland
corresponded on the subject of Popery, and whose
letter, with Falkland's reply, is printed along with
the ' Discourse on Infallibility.' He was the author
of the ' Shepherd's Paradise ' — the " pastoral"
alluded to so dubiously In Suckling's verses.^ His
letter to Falkland is brief and slight. It goes
over the usual ground of the necessity of a continu
ously visible Church, and the question of Where was
the Protestant Church before Luther .'' Falkland's
reply is acute, Ingenious, and satisfactory, and con
tains at least one good hit on the point of the
Church's visibility. His patristic studies had con
vinced him that neither the Roman nor the Protest
ant Church could find their exact parallel In the early
Christian ages. Neither of these Churches, therefore,
he argued, " have been always visible" in the sense
contended for by Montague ; but with this significant
difference in the two cases, "that we are most troubled
to show our Church in the later and more corrupt
ages, and they (the Roman Catholics) theirs in the
1 Selections, p. 90. The editor ' the King did use such words of
adds, in corroboration of our state- Wat Montague and Sir Tobie
ment in the text, that " Wat Mon- Matthew (another of Suckling's
tague was a Papist, and suspected poets), that the fright made Wat
of having been concerned in the keep his chamber longer than his
perversion of Lady Newburgh. sickness would have detained
On that occasion," he adds, "it is him.'"
said in a letter of Lord Conway's,

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. II 5
first and purest ; that we can least find ours at night,
and they theirs at noon." So far as his general
argument is concerned, it is very much the same as
that to be found in his ' Discourse on Infallibility,'
and will remain for consideration when we come to
examine this discourse and his general position on
the subject of religious authority.
Such was the brilliant literary circle in which
Falkland mingled in the earlier half of that sig
nificant decade which preceded the great consti
tutional struggle which was destined to end in
the civil war. If we add to the background of
the picture Hobbes, who returned to England in
1 63 1, and remained till 1634, and of whom It is said
that Falkland was a " great friend and admirer," ^ it
would be difficult to conceive a more remarkable In
tellectual coterie. Poetry and literature in its lighter
forms were no doubt its chief interests ; and as yet
probably these were the chief employments of our
intellectual enthusiast. The fact that his own poetic
vein is found flowing as early as 1631, on the occa
sion of the death of Dr Donne, may be held to indi
cate this. However, with the graver interests which
subsequently occupied him, he did not abandon
poetry, as some of his verses, such as those to Gro
tius, and probably the closing lines to Sandys, are at
least as late as 1640.
After the extracts which we have already given
from Falkland's poems, it is unnecessary that we
should quote much further from them. With the ex
ception of the lines on Dr Donne, and a considerably
^ Aubrey.

Il6 LORD FALKLAND :
longer poem — indeed the longest of the series —
"Upon the death of the Ladle Marquesse Hamilton,"
cast, like the eclogue on Jonson, into the artificial
form of the pastoral dialogue, we have quoted some
thing from them all. There is a peculiar tenderness
in the lines on Lady Hamilton,^ whose beauty and
high character seem to have specially inspired our
poet, and the rural imagery which abounds in it is
touched sometimes with a graceful and charming
felicity — as, for example, when Cloris, one of the In
terlocutors of the poem, says of her lover : —
" His best of wheat and creame before mee poures,
Brings mee his fairest fruite, his freshest flouers,
What birds his twigs, what fish his nets can take,
All that his silkewormes, or his bees, can make,
The friskingst calves and kids his pastures hold,
And purest lambes the honour of his fould."
Or again, when she describes the courtiers weeping
for Lady Hamilton, who had been " Lady of the
Queen's bedchamber," and a great confidant of her
royal mistress : —
" Now wearied with their sorrowes, and their way
Neere the fresh bankes of silver Thames they lay.
And wept soe fast as if they meant to try
To weepe a floud like that they wept it by.
Whose faces, bow'd, and bright, and moist, did shew
Like lillies loaded with the morning dew."
The description of the lady herself as she had been
used to walk " by fairest Grenewich " also deserves
to be quoted. " Often in the sun's declining heat
she, " Cloris again says, —
^ She was a Villiers, and the James, Marquis, and afterwards
first wife of King Charles's friend, Duke, of Hamilton.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. I17
" Would view the downes where wee our flockes did keepe.
And stay to mark the bleating of our sheepe ;
And often from her heigth hath stoopt to praise
Our countrey sportes, and heare our countrey layes,
Sharing with us, after her ended walke,
Our homely cates and our more homely talke.
What beauty did in that faire forme reside !
What any greatness hath, excepting pride !
Eyes of soe modest, yet soe bright a flame.
To see her and to love her was the same :
And if by chance, when shee did neere us stand.
Here bright smooth palme but touch'd my ruder hand.
That did both sences soe at once delight,
The purest swans seem'd neether soft nor white."
But we cannot extend our extracts, or indeed our
notice of this aspect of Falkland's life and intel
lectual activity. As a whole, his poems will hardly
bear criticism in comparison with the melodious
sweetness and gay sparkling vivacity to be found in
the happier efforts of Suckling or Carew ; or even
with the smoother verse of Sandys, not to speak of
the vigorous and more varied muse of such poetic
chiefs as Ben Jonson, Waller, and Cowley. Dr
Earle, one of his later theological friends, " would
not allow Falkland to be a good poet, though a
great wit. He writ not a smooth verse, but a
great deal of sense." ^ Summary as this judgment
is, there is a great deal of truth In it. Falk
land's poetic vein does not run smoothly, with that
liquid clearness and bright flow of expression
without which even a strong and rich genius fails
to yield poetry, or at least such poetry as seizes
and charms men's hearts, and becomes a possession
^ Aubrey.

1X8 LORD FALKLAND :
which they do not "willingly let die." And so
his poems passed away almost entirely from the
memory of his own generation and the generations
which followed ; and it has remained to our time to
draw attention to them, and even to collect them
together for the first tlme.^ Withal, it must be
admitted that they are full of earnest poetic enthu
siasm. They glow no less than his prose with a
genuine life of thought and feeling ; and, as we have
seen, there are not a few delightful bits both of
Imaginative picturesqueness and of vigorous allusive
versification which deserve to be remembered in our
poetic annals.
Even in this earlier and more purely literary
society there are indications that subjects of theo
logy, and the great question of the Church, ob
truded occasionally. If a mind like Suckling's did
not escape the pressure of such thoughts, it can
hardly be supposed that any were free from it;
and a company which numbered Digby and " Wat
Montague " amongst its members, was not likely to
be without some gusts of controversial excitement.
But it was Falkland's later society in the neighbour
hood of Oxford where the conversation was, as
Clarendon says, "one continued convivium philosophi-
cum or convivium theologicum." After his marriage,
^Attention was first drawn to morial Introduction and Notes''
Lord Falkland's poems by,Mr Mit- by the Rev. A. B. Grosart. The
ford, in 1835, in the 'Gentleman's slight volume is printed for pri-
Magazine.'vol.clviii.; and only last vate circulation ; and Mr Grosart
year (1871) they have been col- deserves the thanks of all admirers
lected and edited for the first time of Falkland for his painstaking
after the original texts, with "Me- enthusiasm.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. II9
and still more apparently after his father's death
(1633), Falkland betook himself, with characteristic
enthusiasm, to ecclesiastical and theological studies.
Having made himself master of Greek, he passed
from the study of the classics to that of patristic
antiquity. Clarendon speaks with warm admiration
of his " prodigious progress " In learning. " There
were very few classic authors in the Greek or Latin
tongue that he had not read with great exactness.
He had read all the Greek and Latin Fathers, all
the most allowed and authentic ecclesiastical writers,
and all the councils, with wonderful care and obser
vation ; for in religion he thought too careful and too
curious Inquiry could not be made amongst those
whose purity was not questioned, and whose authority
was constantly and confidently urged by men who
were furthest from being of one mind amongst them
selves ; and for the mutual support of their several
opinions, in which they most contradicted each other;
and In all those controversies he had so dispassioned
a consideration, such a candour in his nature, and so
profound a charity in his conscience, that in those
points in which he was in his own judgment most
clear, he never thought the worse, or In any degree
declined the familiarity, of those who were of another
mind ; which, without question, is an excellent temper
for the propagation and advancement of Christianity.
With these great advantages of industry, he had a
memory retentive of all that he had ever read, and
an understanding and judgment to apply it seasonably
and appositely with the most dexterity and address,
and the least pedantry and affectation that ever man

120 LORD FALKLAND :
who knew so much was possessed with, of what
quality soever." ^
These are the studies in which we must conceive
him mainly occupied after his permanent retire
ment to Tew. To what extent his gayer London
friends — " Ben Jonson's sons " — mingled with the
society there, it Is difficult to say. That to some
extent they did so, is implied in Clarendon's ac
count. But the main elements of this later society,
of which Falkland himself was obviously the chief,
and not merely one amongst others, and of which
his own residence was the rendezvous, were Oxford
men and theologians. All the names are those of
well-known Church divines — viz., Dr Sheldon, Dr
Morley, Dr Hammond, Dr Earles, Mr Chilling
worth. Hales, curiously, is not mentioned. But
we may almost certainly conclude that he was
one of the number, although probably his distance,
at Eton,2 or London, rendered him a less frequent
visitor than those named. Many others — both Ox
ford and London men — must have been occasion
ally present. Clarendon's addendum to the names
given by him plainly supposes this — " and indeed all
men of eminent parts and faculties In Oxford, besides
those who resorted thither from London." Falk
land's house, " within ten or ' twelve miles of the
university, looked like the university itself, by the
company that was always found there." And all
"found their lodgings there as ready as in the
colleges; nor did the lord of the house know of
their coming or going, nor who were in his house,
^ Life, p. 48, 49. ^ Since 16 13 he had been one of the Fellows there.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 121
till he came to dinner or supper, where all still met ;
otherwise there was no trouble, ceremony, or restraint,
to forbid men to come to the house, or to make them
weary of staying there ; so that many came thither
to study in a better air, finding all the books they
could desire In his library, and all the persons to
gether whose company they could wish, and not find
In any other society."
With the exception of Chillingworth, all the
divines mentioned survived to the Restoration.
Not only so, but their lives became so identified
with the later movements which followed first
the temporary overthrow of the Church of Eng
land, and then its re-establishment, that it is com
paratively difficult to conceive of them in that
early time when they were Falkland's guests and
joined In his favourite discussions. This is espe
cially true of the two first mentioned, Sheldon
and Morley. After the Restoration, Sheldon was
appointed first Bishop of London, and then in 1633
Archbishop of Canterbury. He was not only active
but zealous in the disgraceful legislation which issued
In the ejectment of St Bartholomew's Day ^ and the
Five-Mile Act.^ While others were for leniency,
Sheldon, according to Burnet, " pressed the execu
tion of the law," and " undertook to fill all the vacant
pulpits that should be forsaken in London better
and more to the satisfaction of the people than they
had been before." ^ According to the same autho
rity, " he seemed not to have a deep sense of
1 24th August 1662. ' Burnet's Hist, of his Own
" 1665. Time, i. 349.

122 LORD FALKLAND

religion, if any at all, and spoke of it most com
monly as of an engine of government and a matter
of policy." ^ Whatever credit may be due to this
statement of Burnet — and it can hardly be received
without confirraation ^ — it is beyond question that
Sheldon's whole career proves him to have been
more of a politician than a divine. He cannot,
therefore, be supposed to have added much to the
purely intellectual side of the debates which Inte
rested Falkland and Chillingworth. But his clear
and firm judgment — Burnet admits that he had " a
very true judgment" — and direct vigorous sense,
even then gave him special influence over his
friends. Chillingworth's correspondence with him
on the subject of subscription plainly shows
this. His remarkable powers of conversation
' Burnet's Hist, of his Own stances — the point of view of the
Time, i. 320. speaker, and the character of
^ Burnet's statement is supposed those whom he is addressing.
to receive confirmation from cer- The same thing is to be said of
tain remarks of Dr Samuel Par- his alleged "advice to young
ker, Bishop of Oxford, who had noblemen and gentlemen, who
been Sheldon's chaplain, to the by their parents' commands re-
efifectthatthe Archbishop, "though sorted daily to him, was always
very assiduous at prayers, yet did this : ' Let it be your principal
not set so great a value on them care to become honest men, and
as others did, nor regarded so afterwards be as devout and reli-
much worship as the use of wor- gious as you will. No piety will
ship, placing the chief point of be of any advantage to yourselves
religion in the practice of a good or anybody else, unless you are
life." But while Parker tells this, honest and moral men.' " Out-
he at the same time says that spoken manliness, and an intense
Sheldon " was a man of un- aversion to all religious pretence,
doubted piety ; " and the real may explain such sayings without
import of all such remarks can supposing any lack of true reli-
only be fairly judged from a gious feeling in the speaker.
knowledge of all the circum-

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 123
contributed to give weight to his opinions. " He
had a great pleasantness of conversation ; per
haps too great. He had an art that was peculiar
to him of treating all that came to him in a most
obliging manner." ^ He was also, according to uni
form testimony, generous and charitable ; and it was
no doubt his agreeable politeness and a certain
munificence of nature which led Sir Francis Wen-
nian to say of him, when he resorted to the con
versations at Tew, that " Dr Sheldon was born and
bred to be Archbishop of Canterbury." He was
twelve years older than Falkland ; and having been
elected Warden of All Souls in 1635, when the
meetings at Tew were in full vigour, he was pro
bably one of the most regular visitors there.
Of Morley we have already heard in connection
with Waller. He, too, survived the Restoration,
and became Bishop, first of Worcester and then of
Winchester, where, like Sheldon, he distinguished
himself by his munificence. He was less active and
prominent in promoting the repressive measures of
the Restoration ; but he must also be held account
able for them, and the shadow of their disgrace so
far also covers his name. Baxter says ^ that he was
the " chief speaker of all the bishops " at the Savoy
Conference, and frequently bore down objections by
his " fervour " and " interruptions." Strangely, with
all his enthusiasm for the royal cause, with which he
became identified in many special ways, he was very
zealous against Popery, and had the reputation of
' Burnet's Hist, of his Own ' Life and Times, Part II.,
Time, i. 320. 363.

124 LORD FALKLAND

being a great Calvinist. On this latter account he
seems to have suffered somewhat at the hands of
Laud in the early years of his Intimacy with Falk
land. The story is told of him at this time, that
on being " asked by a grave country gentleman
(who was desirous to be instructed what their ten
ets and opinions were) ' what the Arminians held,'
he pleasantly answered, that they held all the best
bishoprics and deaneries in England, — which was
quickly reported abroad as Mr Morley's definition
of the Arminian tenets." ^ Morley appears to have
been an eminently sensible and vigorous - minded
man — a hard student, " usually rising about five
o'clock in the morning, both in winter and in sum
mer," and a hard thinker, extremely fond of argu
ment — " of great wit, readiness, and subtlety in
disputation," says Clarendon, "and of remarkable
temper and prudence in conversation, which ren
dered him most grateful in all the best company." ^
What was " temper and prudence " In agreeable
society, may have readily passed into heat and
vehemence when he was contradicted and crossed
In argument. And so may be explained the " hot
spirit" ascribed to him by Baxter — and Burnet's
words, that while " a pious and charitable man, of a
very exemplary life, he was extreme passionate and
very obstinate." Burnet adds that Morley first be
came " known to the world as a friend of the Lord
Falkland's ; and that was enough to raise a man's
character." ^ In comparison with Sheldon, he thinks
•¦ Clarendon, Life, i. 56. 2 j^jd., i. 56.
^ Burnet, i. 321, 322.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 125
him to have been the honester, but the less able man
of the two.
Henry Hammond was a higher character, and cer
tainly a much higher divine than either Sheldon or
Morley. Sheldon's ability, so far as we know,
never took the form of authorship ; and Morley
only became an author after the Restoration, or In
his old age, as he himself cynically said, when he
published a few sermons and tracts chiefly of
an official character. Hammond was a volumin
ous author; and his 'Practical Catechism ' (1644),
and ' Paraphrase and Annotations on the New Tes
tament' (1653), give him special rank in the list of
Anglo-Catholic theologians. His life has been drawn
at length by one of his own contemporaries,^ and
presents a beautiful picture of self-devotion, simpli
city, and saintliness. His friendship with Sanderson
is well known ; and the likeness yet the contrasts
betwixt the two friends — their equal enthusiasm and
earnestness of piety — with the more compliant temper
and less rigorous practices of Sanderson, and the
stiffer Anglican Churchmanship of Hammond, give
a curious and graphic insight into the character of
Episcopacy during its time of persecution. At this
time Hammond was reduced to great poverty,
but his meek and quiet spirit never murmured.
His gentleness under suffering is especially com
memorated. He had learned to make the best
of all circumstances, saying with Epictetus, " that
everything had two handles — if the one prove
hot and not to be touched, we may take the other
1 Life by Bishop Fell, 1661.

126 LORD FALKLAND :
that Is more temperate." " He delighted," he said
himself, " to be loved rather than reverenced ;" and
one of his sayings, memorable for its solemnity, may
be taken as the key-note ofhis lofty Christian earnest
ness : " Oh ! what a glorious thing, how rich a prize
for the expense of a man's whole life, were he to be
the Instrument of rescuing one soul ! " It was in the
view of Charles II. to appoint him to the bishopric
of Worcester, but he died In the spring of 1660,
before the King's arrival.
Dr Earles, or Earle, as the name is also written.
Is perhaps the least remembered of all the divines
mentioned by Clarendon; but in 1630 he was the
only one who had really distinguished himself as an
author. He had then written a very clever series of
sketches entitled, ' Microcosmography ; or, A Piece
of the World discovered ; In Essays and Characters.'
The sketches were published anonymously in 1628,
and ran through six editions betwixt that date and
1633. They bore to be printed for " Ed. Blount,"
and so are known by many as " Blount's Characters."
But their authorship is beyond question. Clarendon
says, in evident allusion to them, that " some very
witty and sharp discourses " were " published in print
without his consent," and that when known to be his
" he grew suddenly into a very general esteem with
all men."^ And this is not to be wondered at. The
sketches which compose the ' Microcosmography'
are extremely clever, and to this day highly amusing.
They are everywhere marked by a lively Incisive
wit, a proverbial felicity of expression, and an inge-
^ Life, i. 57.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH.

127

nious, compact, and sarcastic turn of portraiture
which, notwithstanding some crudeness of arrange
ment, keeps the attention alive throughout, and seizes
it with unexpected surprises of humorous pleasure.
A perfect anthology of good sayings might be se
lected from it — sayings both rich in themselves, and
richly illustrative of the manners and tendencies of
the time.^ It Is easy to understand the affinity be
twixt such a man as Earle and Falkland. "He was
an excellent poet," It is said, " both In Latin, Greek,
and English," though he suppressed many of his

"¦ We can only give a few here,
and these, perhaps, not the most
telling or descriptive. Of a child
the author says : " He is nature's
fresh picture, newly drawn in oil,
which time and much handling
dims and defaces. . . . The
elder he grows he is a stair lower
from God ; and, like his first father,
much worse in his breeches."
Of the sermon of a " young raw
preacher:" "The labour of it is
chiefly in his lungs ; and the only
thing he has made in it himself is
the faces. He takes on against
the Pope without mercy, and has
a jest still in lavender for Bellar
mine ; yet he preaches heresy, if
it comes in his way, though with
a mind, I must needs say, very
orthodox. ... He preaches but
once a-year, though twice on
Sunday ; for the stuff is still the
same, only the dressing a little
altered." Of a grave divine : " He makes
more conscience of schism than a
surplice. He esteems the Church
hierarchy as the Church's glory.

and however we jar with Rome,
would not have our confusion dis
tinguish us."
Of a mere formal man : " His
religion is a good quiet subject ;
and he prays, as he swears, in the
phrase of the land. . . . He ap
prehends a jest by seeing men
smile, and laughs orderly himself
when it comes to his turn."
"An idle gallant is one that
was born and shaped for his
clothes ; and if Adam had not
fallen, had lived to no purpose.
. . . He is one never serious but
with his tailor."
The devotion of a female hypo
crite " is much in the turning up
of her eye, and turning down the
leaf in her book, when she hears
named chapter and verse. She
loves preaching better than pray
ing, and of preachers, lecturers.
. . . She overflows so with the
Bible that she spills it upon every
occasion, and will not cudgel her
maids without Scripture. . . .
She is an everlasting argument,
but I am weary of her."

128 LORD FALKLAND

English pieces " out of an austerity to those sallies
of his youth." " He was very dear," adds Clarendon,
" to the Lord Falkland, with whom he spent as much
time as he could make his own ; and as that lord
would impute the speedy progress he made In the
Greek tongue to the information and assistance he
had from Mr Earles, so Mr Earles would frequently
profess that he had got more useful learning by his
conversation at Tew (the Lord Falkland's house)
than he had at Oxford." ^
After the Restoration, Earle became Bishop of
Salisbury, and, unlike both Sheldon and Morley,
showed himself extremely favourable to the Non
conformists. He laboured, "with all his might"
against the Five-Mile Act.^ He was evidently
a sweet-natured and tolerant man, of unaffected
piety and goodness. Walton says of him, that since
the death of Hooker none had lived " whom God
hath blest with more innocent wisdom, more sancti
fied learning, or a more pious, peaceable, primitive
temper." But of all the divines mentioned by Clarendon,
Chillingworth Is of course the most significant ; and
there is abundant evidence that he was Falkland's
friend, and the frequenter of his house in a more
intimate sense than any of the others. " Here " —
at Tew — says Clarendon, " Mr Chillingworth wrote,
and formed, and modelled his excellent book
against the learned Jesuit, Mr (K)Nott, after fre
quent debates upon the most important matters, — In
many of which," it is characteristically added, " he
' Life, i. 58. ^ Conformist's Plea, p. 35.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 129
suffered himself to be overruled by the judgment of
his friends, though in others he still adhered to his
own fancy, which was sceptical enough, even in the
highest points." There is a tradition that Falkland
actually assisted in the composition of Chilling
worth's great work. Of this, however, there is no
evidence, and it may be said to be contradicted by
the internal character of the work. Yet evidently
the two friends were associated to the mind of
their generation in a quite peculiar manner. " Mr
William Chillingworth, of Trinity College in Ox
ford," Aubrey says, " was his most intimate and
beloved favourite, and was most commonly with
my lord." " They had such extraordinary clear
reasons, that they were wont to say at Oxon,
that if the Great Turke were to be converted by
natural reason, these two were the persons to con
vert him."
All this intellectual companionship was broken
up with the first mutterings of war in 1639. Before
this, Ben Jonson was dead, and the meetings In
the " Apollo " discontinued. The convivium theolo
gicum probably met at Tew for the last time in
the spring of that year before Falkland went away
with the royal army, then raised to suppress the
rebellion in Scotland. This expedition is known as
the first " Bishops' war." Troops were collected by
a circular letter in the King's name addressed to all
the English nobility, who were invited to assist his
Majesty in recalling his northern subjects to a sense
of their allegiance. Falkland considered himself
bound by the royal summons, or the old soldierly
VOL. I. I

130 LORD FALKLAND :
Inclinations may have returned upon him irrepres-
slbly with renewed opportunity of gratifying them.
Clarendon's language rather implies this latter view,
and, moreover, that a further disappointment befel
him in reference to the command of a troop of horse
which he had been promised. Thwarted in this
ambition, " he went a volunteer with the Earl of
Essex." 1
The history of the expedition to Scotland is aside
from our purpose. It came to nothing — ended. In
fact, in a somewhat ignominious manner for Charles
and his army ; and all the success remained with
Henderson and the Scottish Covenanters, who
arranged a temporary settlement with the King in
sight of Dunse Law, where the armies lay facing
each other. There is no account of Falkland
throughout the expedition. He cannot be supposed
to have entered upon it with any enthusiasm, not
withstanding his military ardour. " A crusade in
favour of Episcopal power and a compulsory lit
urgy," 2 however it temporarily secured his sword,
cannot have enlisted his sympathy. But we have
no means of estimating his judgment of what proved
so hapless a movement of the royal policy.
It was this event of his life which Is commemor
ated by the verses of Waller and Cowley Inscribed
to him. To the former we have already alluded.
Cowley's verses, upon the whole, have more nature
and life than Waller's, while they show even more
strikingly the extraordinary impression which Falk-
^ Hist, of the Rebellion, b. vii. ^ Lady Lewis's Life of Lord
vol. ii. 453 — Clar. Press, i8i6. Falkland, p. i8.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 131
land's character and abilities had made upon the
more intellectual men of his time. And Cowley's
testimony is all the more remarkable, that we have
not hitherto encountered him among Falkland's
special friends. It is hardly possible, notwithstand
ing Walpole's sneers, that such a combination of
judgments could have been mistaken. We give but
a few of Cowley's lines : —
" Great is thy charge, O North ; be wise and just ;
England commits her Falkland to thy trust.
Return him safe ; learning would rather choose
Her Bodley or her Vatican to lose.
All things that are but writ or printed there.
In his unbounded breast engraven are.

And this great prince of knowledge is by Fate
Thrust into th' noise and business of a State.
Such is the man whom we require, the same
We lent the North ; untouch'd as is his fame,
He is too good for war, and ought to be
As far from danger as from fear he's free."
The Scottish expedition had ended, and the King
was again at Whitehall by the midsummer of 1639.
We hear nothing, however, of Falkland till the fol
lowing spring, when he was elected to sit for New
port, in the Isle of Wight, in the " Short Parliament,"
which then met for three weeks (15th April — 5th
May 1640). There is no record of his having
spoken during this brief Parliamentary experience,
but the impression produced upon him was fruitful
and important, according to Clarendon's state
ment : " From the debates, which were there man-

132 LORD FALKLAND

aged with all imaginable gravity and sobriety, he
contracted such a reverence for Parliaments that he
thought it really Impossible they could ever produce
mischief or inconvenience to the kingdom, or that
the kingdom could be tolerably happy in the Inter
mission of them. And from the unhappy and unrea
sonable dissolution of that convention, he harboured,
it may be, some jealousy and prejudice to the Court,
towards which he was not before Immoderately in
clined." 1
It is no part of our intention to sketch, even in the
most summary manner, the series of political events
which now followed each other in rapid succession.
It will be enough to indicate very briefly the part
taken by Falkland, first on the popular side, and
then — evidently after great hesitation and misgiving
— on the side of the King. To do justice to the
political side of his character, or to attempt any vin
dication of his political action, would far outrun our
space, besides leading us away from our special sub
ject. Falkland's brief but busy public career may
be divided into three parts : first, from the opening
of the Long Parliament (3d Nov. 1640) to the exe
cution of Strafford (12th May 1641); second, from
this great event to his acceptance of office under the
King about eight months later (ist Jan. 1641-2);
and lastly, the twenty months — from Jan. 1642 to
Sept. 1643 — of his official life.
During the first of these periods Falkland is en
tirely at one with the popular party, and amongst
the most active in urging their measures of redress
^ Hist, of Rebellion, b. vii. vol. ii. 447.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 1 33
and punishment. Within six months the whole
system of " Thorough " had not only been swept
away, but its authors committed to the Tower, and
the most conspicuous of them, after a trial of four
teen days in Westminster, brought to the scaffold.
Others — the Secretary Windebank and the Lord
Keeper Finch — only escaped the same fate by
flight. No one ventured to say a word for the
delinquents, or to stop the current of events. Falk
land appears most notably in the case of Finch,
but he and Hyde also joined in Strafford's con
demnation. Even in his severity his fairness and
sense of justice appear. He bore no love to the
great Irish Viceroy, not only for his political de
linquencies, but " from the memory of some un
kiudness, not without a mixture of injustice, from
him towards his father " — some old score, no doubt,
arising out of Strafford's relation to his father as
his successor in the government of Ireland. Yet he
was the only member of the House of Commons
who, when the proposition was made for immediate
impeachment, ventured to suggest any delay. He
desired the House to consider " whether it would
not suit better with the gravity of their proceedings,
first to digest many of those particulars which had
been mentioned by a committee before they sent
up to accuse him, declaring himself to be abundantly
satisfied that there was enough to charge hlm."^
The suggestion was opposed by Pym, and re
jected by the House under apprehensions of Straf
ford's influence with the King, and the risk of his
' Hist, of Rebellion, b. iii. vol. i. 239.

134 LORD FALKLAND

being Induced once more to try the policy of dis
solution. From the first Falkland appears to have taken an
active part in the discussions of the Parliament. The
impeachment of Strafford took place almost within a
week of its meeting ; and on the 4th of December
(1640) he is found speaking at length on the subject
of the illegal exaction of ship-money. Here, as
everywhere, it is the sense of justice — in this case
of outraged justice — which animates him and in
spires his eloquence. " The constitution of this
commonwealth," he said, " hath established, or rather
endeavoured to establish, to us the security of our
goods, by appointing for us judges so settled, so
sworn, that there can be no oppression. . . . But
this security, Mr Speaker, hath been almost our ruin,
for it hath been turned, or rather turned itself, into a
battery against us ; and those persons who should
have been as dogs to defend the sheep, have been as
wolves to worry them. These judges," he continued,
" have delivered an opinion and judgment in an extra
judicial manner — that Is, such as came not within
their cognisance, they being judges, and neither phi
losophers nor politicians." He desired to vindicate
the King while condemning the judges. " A most
excellent prince hath been most infinitely abused
by his judges telling him that by policy he might
do what he pleased;" and as "these men have
trampled upon the laws which our ancestors have
provided with their utmost care and wisdom for our
undoubted security, we must now be forced to think
of abolishing of our grievances, and of taking away
this judgment and these judges together, and of

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 135
regulating their successors by their exemplary punish
ment." Having then alluded to the accusation of
Strafford " for intending to subvert our fundamental
laws, and to introduce arbitrary government," he
implies that whatever doubt might exist as to his
conduct, none can exist as to the conduct of the
judges — " No law being more fundamental than that
they have already subverted, and no government
more absolute than that they have really introduced."
In conclusion, he concentrates his eloquent indigna
tion upon Lord Keeper Finch. " Mr Speaker,"
said he, "there is one that I must not lose in the
crowd, whom I doubt not but we shall find, when
we examine the rest of them, with what hopes they
have been tempted, by what fears they have been
assayed, and by what and by whose Importunity they
have been pursued, before they consented to what
they did ; — I doubt not, I say, but we shall find
him to have been a most admirable solicitor, but a
most abominable judge : he It is who not only gave
away with his breath what our ancestors had pur
chased for us by so large an expense of their time,
their care, their treasure, and their blood, . . . but
strove to make our grievances immortal, and our
slavery Irreparable, lest any part of our posterity
might want occasion to curse him ; he declared
that power to be so inherent to the Crown, as that
it was not in the power even of Parliaments to
divide them."
This speech was fruitful in results. The system
of illegal imposts, which had produced such a flame
In the country, was not only swept away, but Falk
land, assisted by Hyde, was appointed to prosecute

136 LORD FALKLAND

the chief delinquent at the bar ofthe House of Lords.
Finch, as we have seen, did not wait to face the trial,
but fled In disguise to Holland. Thanks, however,
were voted by the House of Commons on the 14th
of January " to Mr St John and Mr Whitelock, the
Lord Falkland, and Mr Hyde, for the great services
they have performed to the honour of this House
and the good of the commonwealth in their conduct
of this business." ^ It is In reference to Falkland's
conduct in this matter particularly ^^that Clarendon
observes : He was " so rigid an observer of estab
lished laws and rules, that he could not endure the
least breach or deviation from them ; and thought no
mischief so Intolerable as the presumption of Minis
ters of State to break positive rules for reasons of
State, or judges to transgress known laws upon the
title of convenlency or necessity."*
But Falkland's attitude in the great series of debates
which followed on the Church is more interesting to
us. Here also, at first, he was entirely on the popular
side, and in his zeal against the bishops even separated
himself for a time from his friend Hyde, with whom
he had hitherto acted in all things. His friend
afterwards remembered the circumstance, and has
touchingly signalised it In his ' History.' We shall
confine ourselves at present to a rapid review of the
different stages of the subject as it came before the
Parliament, and the part taken by Falkland in the
course of the debates. His special position In the
matter of Church government will again come before
us in the closing discussion of his opinions.
^ Rushworth, iv. 141. " Hist, of Rebellion, b. vii. vol. ii. 447.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 1 37
The conduct of the bishops came before Parlia
ment very early after its opening. Immediately
following Strafford's accusation. Wren, Bishop of
Ely, was impeached; and on the i8th December
Laud was voted a traitor by the House of Commons,
and conveyed to the Tower. Falkland disliked the
Archbishop ; and the dislike was probably reciprocal.
It is true that Laud, while baiting the Puritans with
merciless severity, maintained kindly personal rela
tions with men like Hales and ChllllngAvorth. He
did this probably from mixed motives, but certainly
from no sympathy with their opinions ; and any
toleration he was disposed to give to old friends,
whom perhaps he thought it possible to win over
to his own side, he was not at all likely to extend
to one In the position of Falkland, who showed
both readiness and ability to put himself at the
head of a moderate or liberal party In Church as
well as State — who had, in fact, already become
distinguished as the leader of such a party. The
instinct of the genuine sacerdotalist Is still more true
to hatred of liberalism than of Puritanism. It was
all the more creditable to Falkland that he seems to
have taken no part in the Impeachment of the Arch
bishop. But numerous petitions having been pre
sented in December, alleging the manifold grievances
of the country from the oppression of the bishops,
and praying for their abolition, Falkland made his
first great speech on Episcopacy on the 9th of Feb
ruary following, when the petitions were taken up
and discussed. The whole of this speech apparently
has been preserved, and is marked throughout, In the

138 LORD FALKLAND

highest degree, both by eloquence and sense — the
enthusiasm of patriotic sentiment, and yet the mo
deration of a reflective intellect. It commences as
follows : " Mr Speaker, — He is a great stranger in
Israel who knows not this kingdom hath long laboured
under many and great oppressions both in religion
and liberty ; and his acquaintance here Is not great,
or his ingenuity less, who doth not both know and ac
knowledge that a great if not a principal cause of both
these have been some bishops and their adherents. Mr
Speaker, a little search will serve to find them to have
been the destruction of unity, under pretence of uni
formity — to have brought in superstition and scandal
under the titles of reverence and decency — to have
defiled our Church by adorning our churches — to
have slackened the strictness of that union which was
formerly between us and those of our religion beyond
the sea : an action as impolitic as ungodly. We shall
find them to have tithed mint and anise, and have
left undone the weightier works of the law. . . .
It hath been more dangerous for men to go to some
neighbour's parish, when they had no sermon in their
own, than to be obstinate and perpetual recusants ;
while masses have been said In security, a conventicle
hath been a crime ; and which is yet more, the con
forming to ceremonies hath been more exacted than
the conforming to Christianity." He deplores the
check thus given to Christian Instruction and the con
sequent " ignorance, which would best introduce that
religion which accounts it the mother of devotion." H e
continues: "The most frequent subjects, even In the
most sacred auditories, have been xhejus divimim of

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 1 39
bishops and tithes, the sacredness of the clergy, the
sacrilege of impropriations, the demolishing of Puri
tanism. . . . Mr Speaker, to go yet further,
some of them have so industriously laboured to de
duce themselves from Rome, that they have given
great suspicion that in gratitude they desire to return
thither, or at least to meet it half-way. Some have
evidently laboured to bring In an English, though
not a Roman Popery ; I mean not only the outside
and dress of it, but equally absolute, a blind depend
ence of the people upon the clergy, and of the clergy
upon themselves, and have opposed the Papacy be
yond the seas that they might settle one beyond the
water. Nay, common fame is more than ordinarily
false if none of them have found a way to reconcile
the opinions of Rome to the preferments of England,
and to be so absolutely, directly, and cordially Papists,
that it is all that fifteen hundred pounds a-year can
do to keep them from confessing it."
So far, and further, in reference to many particu
lars carefully detailed, but for which we can find no
room, Falkland's enthusiastic patriotism breaks forth
against the bishops. But before the close of his
speech, he recalls the fact that the order, and the
men who had so abused it in England, were not to
be confounded. "We shall make no little compliment
to those, and no little apology for those, to whom
this charge belongs, if we shall lay the faults of these
men upon the order of the bishops — upon the Epis
copacy. I wish we may distinguish between those who
have been the stream that carried them." He remem
bers that <'the first planters and spreaders of Christian-

I40 LORD FALKLAND :
Ity," and the " main conducers " to its resurrection at
the Reformation, were bishops; "and that even now,
in the greatest defection of that order, there are yet
some who have conduced in nothing to our late in
novations but in their silence— some who, in an un
expected and mighty place and power, have expressed
an equal moderation and humility, being neither am
bitious before nor proud after, either of the crosier's
staff or white staff — some who have been learned
opposers of Popery and zealous suppressors of Ar
minianism — between whom and their Inferior clergy
Infrequency of preaching hath been no distinction —
whose lives are untouched, not only by guilt, but by
malice, scarce to be equalled by those of any condi
tion, or to be excelled by those of any calendar ; — I
doubt not, I say, but, if we consider this, this con
sideration will bring forth this conclusion — that
bishops may be good men ; and let us give but good
men good rules, we shall have both good governors
and good times."
Falkland argues, therefore, even in this first speech,
for the maintenance of the order of Episcopacy
cleared of its abuses. If " temporal power," or " em
ployment," or the extent of their revenues, interfered
with the usefulness of bishops — let these things, he
urged, " be considered and taken care of; " but he can
hardly deem it possible that the House of Commons
should "think it fit to abolish, upon a few days' debate,
an Order which hath lasted (as appears by story) in
most Churches these sixteen hundred years, and In all
from Christ to Calvin." And even In proposing to
cut down the proportions and income of the Episco-

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 141
pal office, he is strongly opposed to doing this to
such an extent as would interfere with " the dignity
of learning and the encouragement of students " —
which, as he puts it, would "invert" the policy of
Jeroboam, "and, as he made the meanest of the people
priests, make the highest of the priests the meanest
of the people." Episcopacy, to his mind, in short,
was not a divine, though an ancient and primi
tive order. " I do not believe them (bishops) to
be jure divino — nay, I believe them not to be jure
divvngf^ But neither did he hold them to be " in-
jtirid humand." He considered them, in fine, as
neither "necessary nor as unlawful, but as convenient
or Inconvenient ;" and drew his thoughtful eloquence
to a conclusion In words weighty with wisdom for all
time, and which it would have been well if the Long
Parliament had remembered and acted upon : "Since
all great mutations in government are dangerous
(even where what is Introduced by that mutation Is
such as would have been profitable upon a primary
foundation); and since the greatest danger of muta
tions is, that all the dangers and inconveniences they
may bring are not to be foreseen ; and since no wise
man will undergo great danger but for great neces
sity, — my opinion is that we should not root up this
ancient tree,, as dead as it appears, till we have
tried whether by this or the like topping of the
branches, the sap, which was unable to feed the
whole, may not serve to make what Is left both grow
and flourish."
Many speakers followed on this occasion, and
the subject was referred to a committee "formerly

142 LORD FALKLAND

appointed for the London and other petitions."
It was destined to reappear before the House in
many forms, and to test and dissolve the una
nimity with which its members had hitherto
worked. Gradually it became evident that there
were two distinct parties — one for a moderate re
form of Episcopacy and all other abuses, and a
" root and branch" party, which desired not only
the overthrow of the Church, but were prepared
for still more extreme measures. Falkland ad
vanced a step, but only a single step further, with
the anti-Episcopal party. He voted, not only for
the exclusion of the bishops from judicial functions,^
but also at first for their exclusion from the House
of Peers. It was on this last occasion that he
separated from Hyde, and hope seems to have
been temporarily cherished that he might throw
himself heart and soul into the extreme movement.
Hyde and he had been noted as " inseparable."
They sat together in the House beside Sir John
Colepepper, member for Kent — so soon to be asso
ciated with them in office — " on the left-hand side
at entering." This " was so much taken notice
of, that, if they came not into the House together,
as usually they did, everybody left the place for
him that was absent." When the bill for ex
cluding the bishops from the Upper House first
came under discussion, Hyde spoke earnestly for
throwing it out on the ground of its involving a
grave constitutional change. Suddenly Falkland
'¦ nth of March (1641), when of the bishops in the House of
the discussions as to the position Lords seem to have begun.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 143
rose from his seat beside his friend, " and declared
himself to be of another opinion ; and that, as he
thought the thing Itself to be absolutely necessary
for the benefit of the Church which was in so great
danger, so he had never heard that the constitution
of the kingdom would be violated by the passing
that Act, and that he had heard many of the clergy
protest that they would not acknowledge that they
were represented by the bishops." At the same time,
he implied the matter was one for the House of Peers
itself (" amongst whom the bishops sat and had their
votes") rather than for the House of Commons to
determine. " If they could make it appear that they
were a third estate" then that House " would reject"
the Bill. " And so, with some facetlousness answer
ing some other particulars, he concluded for the
passing of the Act." It was a marvellous delight to
many, adds the historian, "to see the two inseparable
friends divided In so important a point — and the
more because they saw Mr Hyde was much sur
prised by the contradiction, as In truth he was."^
But Clarendon is here forgetful of the real senti
ments of his friend expressed in his previous speech.
He had then plainly stated that the position of the
bishops in the House of Peers — or " their lordships,"
as he called It — was no essential part of the Epis
copal authority; and that if their usefulness de
manded it, they might well be deprived of this
position. Falkland was in truth substantially consistent
throughout all the discussions on the subject of
1 History, i. 315.

144 LORD FALKLAND

the Church, even where his consistency is most
open to challenge. It is perfectly clear from the
tenor of his speeches, even when denouncing the
bishops, that he desired to uphold Episcopacy, and
for this purpose was willing to sacrifice all that
was merely adventitious in the ofifice, and which
seemed to him, upon the whole, rather to mar than
to add to its usefulness. He looked at the sub
stance and reality of Church order — which was
plainly dear to him — and for the sake of securing
this, was ready to yield whatever seemed to him
unnecessary and unimportant. But when he dis
covered that the enemies of Episcopacy were not
to be satisfied by such concessions, but were de
termined on its overthrow, he immediately took his
stand against them. This Is the simple explana
tion of his having opposed, six months later, or
in the following October, a bill of the same char
acter — for " depriving the bishops of their votes" —
as that which he had formerly supported. Hamp
den taxed him on this occasion with a change
of opinion ; but Falkland quite pertinently retorted
" that he had formerly been persuaded by that
worthy gentleman to believe many things which he
had since found to be untrue, and therefore he had
changed his opinion in many particulars as well as
to things and persons."^ The truth was, that in the
^ It was on this occasion ap- handwriting, and printed at Ox-
parently that he made his further ford in 1644. This speech is by no
extended speech "concerning means so vigorous and eloquent as
Episcopacy " — "a draught " of the first, from which we have al-
which was afterwards found ready quoted in the text, but it is
amongst his papers in his own also very interesting in relation to

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 145
interval the course of events had rapidly advanc
ed. The " root and branch" Bill, for abolishing
Episcopacy, had been Introduced in June. And
not only had the movement against the Church
gathered strength, but, more significantly still, the
extreme party had prepared, although not yet pre
sented, the "Grand Remonstrance" in the face of
the desire of all moderate politicians to consolidate
the reforms already obtained, and open up the way
for reconciliation with the King, instead of further
aggravating differences. In short, by the autumn
of 1 64 1, the patriots of the Long Parliament had
already separated into two divisions. The Constitu
tionalists, with Falkland and Hyde and Colepepper,
at their head, had taken their stand against further
encroachments ; while the Radical reformers, headed
by Pym, Hampden, and others, were determined
upon still more extensive changes and an increased
weakening of the royal prerogative. Falkland had
plainly been let understand by Hampden, that if the
Bill for the exclusion of the bishops from the House
of Lords were carried, nothing further would be
attempted against the Church. And when he found
that he was deceived In this, he felt himself quite
warranted in revising his original decision upon the
point. To some extent probably Hampden himself
was deceived. For Clarendon mentions that at first
Falkland's ecclesiastical views. It divino ¦pretensions, "to meet when
is chiefly taken up with urging the they please, to treat of what they
inconvenience of a radical change please, to excommunicate whom
of Church government, especially they please, even parliaments
in favour ofthe " Scotch ecclesias- themselves," are somewhat scorn-
tical government " — whose jure fully set forth.
VOL. I. K

146 LORD FALKLAND :
he did not feel inclined to the introduction of the
" root and branch " Bill, although he afterwards gave
his assent to it. The current of events hurried him
and others away ; and the tide for the time was run
ning so strongly against the very name of bishops
that he and Pym, and no doubt others, who pro
fessed themselves favourable to the doctrine and
discipline of the Church of England, reformed of its
abuses, were swept away with the general stream.
A crowd of stirring political events now rapidly
succeeded each other, — the debates on the Grand
Remonstrance, the attempt of Charles to arrest
the five members, the retirement of the Court
from London, the assumption of military powers
by Parliament, and, finally, the raising of the royal
standard at Nottingham (23d Aug. 1642). Falk
land had plainly drawn himself off from the ex
treme party during the summer of 1641 ; and when
the attempt was renewed, which had been unsuccess
fully made at an earlier stage, of attaching certain
of the parliamentary leaders to the King's service as
ministers, he was at length Induced to accept the office
of Secretary of State, along with Colepepper as Chan
cellor of the Exchequer. Clarendon has told all the
story of his hesitation, and yet his ultimate accept
ance. " No man could be more surprised than he was
when the first intimation was made to him of the
King's purpose ; he had never proposed any such
thing to himself, nor had any veneration for the
Court, but only such a loyalty to the King as the law
required from him."^ Whatever we may think of
' Hist, of Rebellion, b. iv. vol. i. 444.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 147
Falkland's judgment in accepting office in the cir
cumstances, with his obvious distrust of the King's
character, and the evident dislike which existed be
twixt him and that inner circle of councillors, with
the Queen at their head, who guided Charles far more
than any minister, it is impossible to doubt the
purity of the patriotism which animated him now, as
in all preceding stages of his career. The study of
his character and speeches reveals his deep devotion
to the English constitution, both in Church and
State. With all his love of liberty, religious and
political, he had a genuine enthusiasm for the
Church and for royalty. For Charles himself he
may have had little affection or esteem. He dreaded
the demands which a character like his was sure to
make upon a minister. He feared " lest the King
should expect such a submission and resignation of
himself, and his own reason and judgment, to his
commands, as he should never give, or pretend to
give." Withal he was ardently loyal. His attach
ment was " to a principle, and not to a man ; "^ and
he allowed all his personal scruples to be overcome
by the enthusiasm of his belief in the reconciliation
of royalty and constitutional government — of Church
order and religious freedom.
It has been lately insinuated,^ notwithstanding
Clarendon's express assertions to the contrary, that
Falkland, along with Hyde himself and Colepepper,
were privy to Charles's attempt to arrest the five
¦^ Lord Lytton in an admirable * Forster's Arrest of the Five
essay, "Pym versus Falkland." — Members.
Miscell. Prose Works, vol. i.

148 LORD FALKLAND :
members. But there Is really not a tittle of evidence
in favour of this suggestion, which is at the same
time opposed to all we know of Falkland's character,
his transparent truthfulness, and hatred of rash and
crooked courses — features so transparent in all his
career, that, Mr Forster himself admits, " he could
as easily have given himself to steal as to dis
semble." We cannot, therefore, conceive him
entering upon office with such a stain of evil
secrecy in his mind, or such a purpose of Ill-con
certed vengeance towards men with whom he had
been lately acting. To some It may be equally
difficult to conceive his going on after the event
with the negotiations which were then In progress,
and accepting office at all in the circumstances.
But there is all the difference in the two cases be
twixt a man. It may be, unwisely impelled by a sense
of duty to enter the service of his sovereign for
the sake of his country, and a man clearly com
mitting himself from the first to a course which
neither patriotic nor moral judgment can approve.
The gravest doubts may be raised as to the wis
dom of Falkland's policy in identifying himself
with a cause which, however great and beau
tiful it appeared in his own eyes, was in hopeless
and impracticable hands — in hands with many of
whose doings he could have no sympathy. It must
have been a bitter humiliation to him, on many
occasions, to find himself associated with " the
DIgbys and the Jermyns," and the general crew
of ultra-royalists which gathered around the royal
standard. It may also be true that he had

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 149
misgivings as to his position from first to last — that
there were even points on which his heart was as
much with the Parliament as with the King ; for he
was a man of infinite " self-questionings." But it is
impossible to doubt that he had chosen what appeared
to him to be the right side In a great crisis, in which
he felt he could not stand aloof, or fail in service to
his country.
The result was not what he expected, and he
soon began to despair. He had hoped to con
ciliate opinions, and they grew every month more
irreconcilable ; to mitigate party feeling, and the
exasperation between the Parliament and the
King every day increased. And when civil war
became inevitable, and blood was shed on both
sides, his heartbreak proved intolerable. He lacked
the firmness or coarseness of fibre which gathers
strength in the face of opposition, and rises in proud
defiance to meet menace with menace. " From
the entrance into this unnatural war," says Claren
don, " his natural cheerfulness and vivacity grew
clouded, and a kind of sadness and dejection of
spirit stole upon him which he had never been used
to." And even after hostilities had begun, he hoped
and hoped that peace would ensue after a decisive
trial of strength. When this hope perished, and
negotiations with the Parliament seemed finally
broken off, " those indispositions which had before
touched him grew into a perfect habit of uncheerful-
ness ; and he who had been so exactly easy and
affable to all men that his face and countenance were
always present and vacant to his company, and held

ISO LORD FALKLAND

any cloudiness and less pleasantness of the visage a
kind of rudeness or incivility, became on a sudden
less communicable, and thence very sad, pale, and
exceedingly affected with the spleen. In his clothes
and habit, which he had minded before always with
more neatness and Industry and expense than is
usual to so great a soul, he was not now only in
curious, but too negligent; and in his reception of
suitors, and the necessary or casual addresses to his
place, so quick and sharp and severe that there
wanted not some men (strangers to his nature and
disposition) who believed him proud and imperious,
from which no mortal man was ever more free. . . .
When there was any overture or hope of peace he
would be more erect and vigorous, and exceedingly
solicitous to press anything which he thought might
promote it; and sitting among his friends, often,
after a deep silence and frequent sighs, would, with
a shrill and sad accent, ingeminate the word ' Peace,
peace ;' and would passionately profess that the very
agony of the war, and the view of the calamities and
desolation the kingdom did and must endure, took
his sleep from him, and would shortly break his
heart."! To those disposed to Idealise the one party or the
other, Falkland's attitude may not appear magnani
mous. But to others, looking below the surface to
the real horrors of the fratricidal war In which Par
liamentarians and Royalists were engaged, and to
the blows inflicted upon liberty, civil and religious,
by the exasperated passions of both sides, there may
^ Hist, of Rebellion, b. vii., vol. iii., 453-54.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 151
be pardoned some feeling, not only of pathos but of
enthusiasm, for this martyr of moderation. Modera
tion may have Its heroes, surely, as well as fanaticism ;
and if Pym's political daring and Cromwell's rude
and powerful genius claim our admiration, we may
reserve some share of it for one, inferior to both in
statecraft and firmness of purpose, but greatly their
superior In elevation of personal character and range
of intellectual and spiritual thoughtfulness. The
drooping figure of Falkland may seem weak as he
sits Ingeminating " Peace, peace',' but all the while
his heart was wellnigh broken by the calamities he
could not avert, his Intellect was cool and luminous
in council, and his spirit courageous to recklessness
In the hour of danger. We cannot think less of a
man that his patriotism was tender as well as in
trepid, and that he mourned for a broken ideal of
order and peace which his higher intelligence assured
him could never come from the excesses of either
side. Of the cause which he thus nobly but sadly served,
Falkland was destined soon to be the victim. The
war was begun on the 23d August 1642. In the
September of the following year, after varying
alternations of success and defeat, the Parliamentary
forces moved to the relief of Gloucester, which had
been invested by the Royalists, and the siege of
which Is memorable to us in connection with Chil
lingworth's attempts at engineering. Having suc
ceeded in raising the siege, the Earl of Essex gradu
ally advanced to Newbury, where the Royalist
forces had already established themselves two hours

152 LORD FALKLAND :
before his arrival. Falkland accompanied the King
on his march from Gloucester, but Hyde was de
tained at Bristol. From thence he is found remon
strating with his friend for the indiscreet manner in
which he had been exposing himself to danger. It
was not, Hyde said, " the office of a Privy Councillor
and a Secretary of State to visit the trenches, as he
usually did ; and conjured him, out of the conscience
of his duty to the King, and to free his friends from
those continual uneasy apprehensions, not to engage
his person to those dangers which were not incum
bent to him." Falkland replied that, as the trenches
were at an end, there would be no further danger
there ; but " that his case was different from other
men's ; that he was so much taken notice of for an
impatient desire of peace, that it was necessary that
he should likewise make it appear that It was not
out of fear of the utmost hazard of war." ^ He was
evidently sensitive that his personal courage should
be suspected in his eagerness for peace, and this
may have given a touch of recklessness to his gal
lantry, which had been conspicuous throughout.
On the morning of the battle, there are different
accounts of his bearing. A well-known story is told
by Whitelock, of his having " called for a clean
shirt," saying that " if he were slain he should not
be found in foul linen ; " and, further, that " he was
weary of the times, and foresaw much misery to his
own country, and did believe he should be out of it
ere night." Clarendon, on the other hand, who is
much more likely to have been well informed, says that
' Life, i. 202.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 1 53
he was " very cheerful," as he usually was in the pros
pect of action. He put himself at the head of Sir
John Byron's regiment, and as he was advancing to
the charge of a body of foot — the hedges on both
sides being lined by the enemy's musketeers — he
fell, mortally wounded by a musket-shot. His body
was not found till next morning, and having been
transferred to Great Tew, was so hastily interred
that Its exact resting-place remains unknown.
Thus perished, in his thirty-fourth year, one
who seemed to many In his age " incompar
able," both for his virtues and his talents. For
many days Hyde was so absorbed in grief for
the loss of his " dear friend " — his " sweetheart,"
as Falkland had affectionately addressed hlm^ — that
he was unable to attend to any business ; and long
afterwards, when twenty-six years of an eventful
life had passed, he felt that time had in no degree
effaced the " love and grief" with which he cherished
the image of his friend. I had with him, he said to
his children In his will, " a most perfect and blame
less friendship." ^ It could only have been some
rare charm of character which thus fixed so much
love and admiration — which not only drew forth
encomiums from poetic friends, and the applause of
literary and theological associates, but the memory
of which melted to tenderness the hearts of two such
men as Clarendon and Chillingworth.
Like his friends Hales and Godolphin, Falkland
was of low stature — " a little man," with " no great
strength of body, blackish hair, something flaggy,
1 Letter, March 1641. ^ Written at Jersey, 1647.

154 LORD FALKLAND

and, I think, his eyes black." Such Is Aubrey's por
trait ; and Clarendon's account confirms the impres
sion that Falkland was not in any degree indebted
for his remarkable influence to external attrac
tions. His " motion" was ungraceful, his voice " un
tuned," and " his aspect so far from inviting that
It had somewhat in it of simplicity." " Sure no
man was less beholden to nature for its recom
mendation into the world ; but then no man
sooner or more disappointed this general and cus
tomary prejudice." But his " little person was
quickly found to contain a great heart" and a fearless
nature — his untuned voice to be the organ of an
understanding and wit. so excellent as to need no
ornament of delivery ; while his disposition " was so
gentle and obliging, so much delighted In courtesy,
kindness, and generosity, that all mankind could not
but admire and love him." ^
II. It now only remains to estimate more distinctly
the significance of Falkland's position as the head of
the moderate or rational party in the Church of
England at the outbreak of the civil war. We have
already quoted at length his views concerning Epis
copacy. He believed In its antiquity and utility as
an Order of Church government. He proved its
ardent supporter in the hour of trial, and earnestly
repudiated the attempts to subvert it. But his de
fence of Episcopacy was the defence of an ancient
Christian institution, and not of an exclusive divine
system. His own studies had convinced him that
the Order of Bishops was coeval with the organlsa-
1 Life, i. 38.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 155

tion of the Christian Church. It had lasted, as he
said, " these sixteen hundred years ;" and it was con
trary to all his instincts as a student and a statesman
to change " in an Instant the whole face of the Church
like the scene of a mask." But In the very same
breath in which he advocated this rational conser-
vatlvism he repudiated with a terse emphasis, which
may bear to be repeated, the jus divinum of Bishops.
" Mr Speaker," he said, " I do not believe them to
be jzire divino — nay, I believe them not to be jtire
divino." In short, while vindicating the Reformed
Church of England, he rejected on its behalf not only
the arbitrary impositions of the Laudian Bishops, but
all sacerdotal pretensions, and all idea of radical dis
tinction betwixt it and the other Churches of the
Reformation. It was one of his express charges
against Laud and his coadjutors that they had
" slackened the strictness of that union which was
formerly between us and those of our religion be
yond the sea — an action as impolitic as ungodly."
The same enlightened principles which guided his
attitude towards Episcopacy appear in his estimate
of other forms of Church government! He objected
to the " Scotch Ecclesiastical government " not be
cause it was Presbyterian, but because of its jure
divino pretensions and arbitrary interferences with
social manners and the course of civil government. ^
He recognised in its advocates the same " desire of
uniformity" which In the Laudian Bishops had led
to such disastrous results — " the destruction of unity,"
1 Speech concerning Episcopacy prefixed to Discourse of Infalli
bility, p. 7, 2d ed., 1660.

156 LORD FALKLAND :
as he said, " under pretence of uniformity." He saw
the intolerance which lay beneath the aggressive
Puritanism of the time, and reprobated it as strongly
as he had done the aggressions of Anglicanism.
It appeared to him worse than the jure divino pre
tensions of " some bishops," because more " likely to
be believed by the people." This is very much the
strain of his second speech concerning Episcopacy, in
which he points out the Inconveniences of abolish
ing, without any satisfactory substitute, a form of
government which " hath very well agreed with
the constitution of our laws, with the disposition of
our people," and under which " we have lived
long happily and gloriously." The conclusion of
this speech Is less pointed and eloquent than that
of the former, but scarcely less significant of his
position as a liberal churchman : — " For us," he says,
" to bring in any ttnlim^ited, any Independent autho
rity, the first is against the liberty of the subject, the
second against the right and privilege of Parliament ;
and both against the protestation. If It be said that
this unlimitedness and independence is only in spiritual
things, I answef first that arbitrary government being
the worst of governments, and our bodies being worse
than our souls, it will be strange to set up that over
the second of which we were so impatient over the
first. Secondly, that M. Sollicitor, speaking about
the power of the Clergy to make canons to bind,
did excellently inform us what a mighty influence
spiritual power hath upon temporal affairs. So that
if our Clergy had the one, they had inclusively almost
all the other. And to this I may adde (what all men

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 157
may see) the vast temporall power of the Pope allow'd
him by such who allow it him onely in ordine ad
Spiritualia : for the fable will tell you, If you make
the Lyon judge (and the Clergy, assisted by the
people, is Lyon enough) it was a wise fear of the
Foxe's, lest he might call a knubb a horn. And
sure. Sir, they will In this case be Judges, not onely
of that which is Splrituall, but of what it Is that is so :
and the people, receiving instruction from no other,
will take the most Temporal matter to be Spiritual,
if they tell them it is so."
His " Discourse of the Infallibility of the Church
of Rome" explains most clearly and fully his reli
gious position. In this brief discourse, and in his
more lengthened " Reply to the Answer thereto,"
we see how vital was his interest In religious ques
tions, and especially In the great question of religious
certitude or authority, which Invariably, in a time of
spiritual excitement, comes to the front. He had a
special Interest in the question, like his friend Chil
lingworth, on account of the insidious activity of the
Jesuit missionaries ; but his thoughts naturally ran
in the same direction. The necessity of looking into
the whole subject for himself was one of the special
reasons which led to his retirement to Tew, and the
theological reunions which he encouraged there. For,
" in religion, he thought too careful and too curious
an inquiry could not be made." Above all others,
this was the intellectual Interest which united him
with Chillingworth, and in the discussion of which
they both sharpened their reasoning faculties. A
good deal In the general argument of the Discourse

158 LORD FALKLAND

reminds us of " the Religion of Protestants." There
are passages, and especially turns of reasoning,
which are a distinct echo of its great author — we
seem almost to catch his voice; but there does not
seem after all, on the one side or the other, any for
mal traces of Indebtedness. With a common tone
of argument, the individuality of each writer is suffi
ciently manifest.^
The position of the Church of Rome is clearly
stated in the outset. This Church defends herself
against all allegations of error by saying that she
cannot err. She has no errors, because she never
can have any. She appeals, in short, to her infalli
bility. But this, as Falkland points out, is the very
point to be proved, and " so much harder is it to be
believed than the first, that it needs more certain
proof" A claim to infallibility can never be accepted
on its own authority. It must be vindicated on the
clearest and most indubitable grounds. And so,
1 Falkland and Chillingfworth in that year in London.) But be-
and Hales are supposed to have yond a certain tone of speaking as
been indebted in their " revolt to the inconsistencies of patristic
against Church authority " (Hal- tradition, and the difficulty of find-
lam's Lat. Hist., ii. 421, 6th ed.) ing its meaning, there is no evi-
to Daill^'s well-known Trea- dence of his having made much
tise " concerning the right use of use of it, and none at all of his
the Fathers," published in 1628. having borrowed from it. DailWs
There can be no doubt that Falk- treatise, we can imagine, was
land greatly admired Daill^'s a welcome assistance to both
book, and partly translated it, Chillingworth and Falkland in
although the papers whereon this their researches ; but the value
translation was half finished were of their writings is quite inde-
long since lost, even in 165 1. pendent of any assistance which
(Testimonies of the Lord Falk- it could have given them. In
land and others to Daill^'s book. Hales we have not found any trace
prefixed to its translation printed of indebtedness to Dailld.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 159
under pretence of escaping argument as to religious
truth, we end in an infinite regression of argument.
We can never get out of the shadow of our own
reason, nor rest on any surer grounds than those of
rational conviction in some form or another. " We
can never Infallibly know that the Church Is in
fallible." And if Romanists say " that an argument
out of Scripture is sufficient ground of divine faith,
why are they offended with the Protestants for be
lieving every part of their religion upon that ground,
upon which they build all theirs at once ? And, if
following the same rule, with equal desire of finding
the truth by it (having neither of those qualities
which Isid. Pelus.^ saith are the cause of all Heresie,
Pride and Prejudication ^), why should God be more
offended with the one than with the other, though
they chance to erre ? "^
The alleged ground of infallibility is the necessity
of " some certain guide" in religious matters. But
supposing such a guide to exist, of what use is it
unless it be plainly manifest ? An infallible church
which does not " plainly appear to be so," is as if
God " were to set a ladder to Heaven, and seem to
have a great care of my going up, whereas unless
there be care taken that I may know this ladder is
here to that purpose, it were as good for me it never
had been set."* And what, he asks, is to be made of
the case in which the Church of Rome contradicts

1 Isidorusof Pelusium, a Chris- ^ Discourse, 2.
tian writer of the fifth century. * Ibid., 2, 3.
^ aidddfiav koi irpoKri^u'.

l6o LORD FALKLAND :
herself .'' Here, surely, the principle of infallibility
plainly breaks down. " For to say, I am to believe
the present Church, that it differs not from the
former, though it seem to me to do so, is to send
me to a witness, and bid me not believe It.''^
This suggests to him the further question, which
is the church ? Supposing the idea of infallibility
granted, all that this imports is, " that God will have
a church always which will not err, but not that
such and such a succession shall be in the right."
The Greek Church may be the true church ; or it
may have been the church, although it has now fallen
into error. To maintain the Church of Rome to be
the true church because its opinions are more conso
nant to Scripture or antiquity, is to " run into a circle,
proving the Romanist tenets to be true ; first, be
cause the church holds them, and then theirs to be
the church because the church holds the truth —
which last, though it appears to me the only way,
yet it takes away its being a guide, which we may
follow without examination, without which all they
say besides is nothing." ^
This necessity for examination brings him back
to the centre of the subject. The right of private
judgment or examination is repudiated by the Ro
manists, because when differences arise as to the
meaning of Scripture, " there is no way," as they
say, "to end them." But whereas the assumption
of infallibility Itself is no security against difference
of opinion — as Falkland shows by various instances
of such difference in the Church of Rome — the
;¦ Ibid., 3. 2 Ibid., 4.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. l6l
only reasonable inference to be drawn from the fact
of such difference is, that it is not hurtful in itself nor
displeasing to God. Where God has not clearly
and Indubitably revealed His will, " it will not stand
with His goodness to damn man for not following
it." To those " who follow their reason in the
interpretation of the Scriptures, God will either give
His grace for assistance to find the truth, or His
pardon If they miss it. And then this supposed
necessity of an infallible guide (with the supposed
damnation for the want of it) fall together to the
ground."! These words, in their trenchant force and
magnanimous confidence, closely resemble those of
Chillingworth ; and there is a good deal of the same
hunting of the adverse argument from point to
point, in which this great writer delights — leaving
no loophole of escape, and no ground on which to
rest. The idea of infallibility is looked at in every
aspect, and its futility exposed unsparingly, though
without much logical arrangement or clear advance
of reasoning. There Is a lack of definite arrange
ment, and we find ourselves frequently returning
upon the same path. As a whole, however, the sub
ject is well conceived, and its handling worthy of
Falkland's argumentative ability, and fairness and
vigour ofmind, while it shows throughout a firm grasp
of the rational principles lying at the basis of Protes
tantism or any form of intelligent religious faith.
The details of the treatise, from Its want of con
nection, do not readily fall into order. It is enough
to indicate its main ideas, and to quote such passages as
1 Ibid., p. 5.
VOL. I. L

l62 LORD FALKLAND :
may throw an additional light on the thought and posi
tion ofthe writer. Having shown, first, that Infallibility
itself must be proved before it can be erected Into a
principle of religious authority ; and, secondly, that It
must be located, or, in other words, proved to belong
to the Church of Rome, and no other Church — in all
the steps of which proof there may be uncertainty and
mistake ; — he proceeds to point out, that even admit
ting these two points, the principle is after all of no
practical utility. For every Christian in the end must
rest on his own understanding of the supposed infal
lible dogma or decree. Let the voice of the Church
be ever so authoritative. It can only reach me through
my intelligence, and after all I may misunderstand
It. Of Its sense I can have no better expounder
than my reason, and should I fail with all my efforts
to understand it, surely I shall not be damned for
my failure ? Why then " shall I, for mistaking the
sense of the Scripture, or why am I a less fit inter
preter of the one than of the other "¦ — of the Bible
than of the Church ? " And when both seem equally
clear, and yet contradictory, shall not I as soon be
lieve Scripture, which is without doubt of as great
authority ? " ^
Falkland enters into many special questions with
the Church of Rome, particularly in his ' Reply ;' ^
1 Ibid., p. 7. name of Holland, who had been
^ Falkland's ' Reply' is consider- a Cambridge student. It is dis-
ablylonger than his original essay, tinguished by great courtesy of
but it is mainly an expansion of tone towards Falkland, and is well
its general line of thought. The and temperately written, but not
' Answer ' to which he replied is otherwise remarkable. The Dis-
said to have been written by a course, with 'Answer,' and his
Roman Catholic priest of the Lordship's 'Reply,' are all found in

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 163
but his argument mainly interests us, and is in itself
most luminous and interesting, where it keeps the
level of general principles, or deals with his own per
sonal convictions. Like his friend Chillingworth, he
kindles into indignation at the idea of persecution
for religious opinions. Dogmatic differences, how
ever vital, can never justify Intolerance. He refers
to Constantine's famous letter on the Trinitarian
controversy, as showing that even on a question so
great as this, neither side was deemed without the
pale of the Church. " Punishing for opinions" was
entirely foreign to the best ages of Christianity, and
was in fact " a mark to know false opinions by."
" And I believe," he adds, " throughout antiquity
you will find no putting any to death, unless it be
such as begin to kill first, as the Circum cellians, or
a single volume which seems at apparently their literary ability,
first to have been published in without the earnestness of char-
1651, and afterwards in 1660 with acter that might have been sup-
one of Falkland's speeches on posed due to him both from father
Episcopacy prefixed. The volume and mother. A good story is told
is edited by a Dr Thomas Trip- of him by Walpole (' Royal and
let, who appears to have been Noble Authors,' v. 121), that
tutor to Falkland's son Henry, "being brought early into the
and who says in an introd,uctory House of Commons, and a grave
letter of dedication, addressed to senator objecting to his youth,
his pupil, that he had received the ' and to his not looking as if he
manuscripts, not long before her had sowed his wild oats,' he re-
death, from Lady Falkland. Trip- plied with great quickness, ' Then
let afterwards became a preben- I am come to the properest place,
dary of Westminster, and is said where are so many geese to pick
to have been " a man of great wit, them up.' He wrote," Walpole
and a great companion of Lord adds, " ' The Marriage Night,
Falkland." a Comedy.'" Henry was the se-
Henry the third Lord Falkland cond son, the eldest, Lorenzo,
was a man of considerable dis- having died in youth, to the
tinction, no less than his father great grief of his mother. See
and grandfather. He inherited p. 89.

i64 LORD FALKLAND :
suchlike. I am sure the Christian religion's chiefest
glory is, that It Increaseth by being persecuted ; and
having that advantage of the Mohammedan, me-
thlnks it should be to take ill care of Christianity to
hold it up by Turkish means — at least, it must breed
doubts, that If the religion had always remained the
same, it would not now be defended by ways so con
trary to those by which at first it was propagated. I
desire recrimination may not be used ; for though It
be true that Calvin had done it, and the Church of
England a little (which is a little too much), yet she
(confessing she may err) is not so chargeable with
any fault as those which pretend they cannot, and
so will be sure never to mend it. ... I confess
this opinion of damning so many, and this custom of
burning so many, this breeding up of those who
knew nothing else In any point of religion, yet to be
In a readiness to cry, To the fire with him, to Hell
with hiTn — these, I say, were chiefly the causes which
made so many so suddenly leave the Church of
Rome."i The right of rational inquiry appears to him
more sacred and truly religious than any blind
faith whatsoever. " Grant the Church," he says,
" to be infallible, yet methlnks he that denies It, and
employs his reason to seek if It be true, should be in
as good case as he that believeth it, and searcheth
not at all the truth of the proposition he receives.
For I cannot see why he should be saved because
by reason of his parents' belief, or the religion of the
country, or some such accident, the truth was offered
^ Ibid., p. 13, 14.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 165
to his understanding, when, had the contrary been
offered, he would have received that. And the
other damned that believes falsehood upon as good
ground as the other doth truth, unless the Church
be like a conjuror's circle, that will keep a man from
the devil, though he came Into it by chance. They
grant no man is an heretic that believes not his
heresy obstinately ; and if he be no heretic, he may
sure be saved. It is not then certain damnation for
any man to deny the infallibility of the Church of
Rome, but for him only that denies it obstinately.
And then I am safe, for I am sure I do not. Neither
can they say I shall be damned for schism, though
not for heresy, for he Is as well no schismatic, though
in schism — that is, willing to join in communion with
the true Church, when it appears to be so to him, as
he Is no heretic, though he holds heretical opinions,
who holds them not obstinately — that is (as I sup
pose), with a desire to be informed if he be in the
wrong. ... I have the less doubt of this opinion,
that I shall have no harm for not believing the infal
libility of the Church of Rome, because of my being
so far from leaning to the contrary, and so suffering
my will to have power over my understanding, that
if God would leave it to me which tenet should be
true, I would rather chuse that that should, than the
contrary. For they may well believe me that I take
no pleasure In tumbling hard and unpleasant books,
and making myself giddy with disputing obscure
questions." To believe, he continues, that there
must always be " a society of men whom I might
always know, whose opinions must be certainly true,

1 66 LORD FALKLAND':
is a more agreeable way than to endure endless
volumes of commenters, the harsh Greek of Epi
phanius, and the harder Latin of Irenaeus."^
To the objection that it is mere pride of reason
that is at the bottom of all doubts about the Church's
infallibility, he retorts that " too much impatience
and laziness of examining is the cause that many do
not doubt It." What pride, he says, can there be in
desiring to have a rational foundation for belief, since
even the InfaUibilist must pretend to some reason
for his position, and that the writer himself is willing
to be led wherever Truth may lead him, " remember
ing that Truth in likelyhood is, where her author
God was, in the still voice, and not the loud wind" ?
His mind, he professes, is open to every reasonable
Influence — prayer as well as argument. He would
neither be " wilfully blind," nor " deny impudently "
what he sees. But save Reason herself, he can
imagine no ultimate guide to the Truth. Every
intelligence in the end must incline to the side of the
greater reason. " For to be persuaded by reason,
that to such an authority I ought to submit it, is still
to follow reason, and not to quit her. And by what
else is it that you examine what the apostles taught,
when you examine that by ancient tradition, and
ancient tradition by a present testiniQnyL?_Yet when
I speak thus of finding the Truth by Reasoh, I
intend not to exclude the Grace ~of God, which I
doubt not (for as much as is necessary to salvation)
is ready to concur to our instruction ; as the sun Is to
our sight, if we by a wilful winking chuse not to
^ Ibid., p. 15, 16.

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 167
make, not it, but our selves guilty of our blindness.
. . . Yet when I speak of God's Grace, I mean
not that It Infuseth a knowledge without reason, but
works by it, as by its minister, and dispels those
mists of passions which do wrap up Tr-uthTrom our
understandings. For if you speak of its Instructing
any other way, you leave visible arguments to fly to
invisible ; and your adversary, when he hath found
your play, will be soon at the same locke ; and I
believe in this sense, infused Faith is but the sam.e
thing, otherwise apparelled, which you have so often
laught at in the Puritans under the title of private
spirit."! These quotations are enough to indicate Falkland's
religious attitude, and to show what claims he had,
apart from his mere social and political position, to
lead the group of rational thinkers, who, amidst the
conflicts of the seventeenth century, sought to take a
middle course, and to fix the minds of their country
men upon a broader and more tolerant view both of
the Church and of Christianity. It is evident that
Falkland added to his general intellectual accom
plishments and political sagacity a deep and serious
interest in the religious questions which really lay
at the root of all the national difficulties of his
time. He had pondered these questions thought
fully, and worked out for himself clear and definite
conclusions in favour at once of religious liberty and
the national Church. While professedly arguing
against the infallibility of the Church of Rome, his
argument is equally valid against the Prelatic sacer-
1 Reply, p. 118, 119.

1 68 LORD FALKLAND :
dotalism which had more or less oppressed England
since the accession of the Stuarts, and the Puritan
dogmatism which sought to take its place. His plea
against infallibility is really a plea in favour of free
dom of religious opinion in a sense which neither
Prelatlst nor Puritan in the seventeenth century under
stood. It seemed to him then, as it has seemed to
many since, possible to make room within the national
Church for wide differences of dogmatic opinion, or.
In other words, for the free rights of the Christian
reason incessantly pursuing its Inquest after truth,
and moulding the national consciousness to higher
conceptions of religious thought and duty. The
frame of the Church of England was admirably
suited for such a purpose as linking together in
its Catholic order the Christian ages, and being in
Itself both apostolic and rational. He would have
reformed but preserved and purified it, as the flexi
ble and appropriate vehicle of the nation's religious
progress. This was the conservative side of his
thought, where he separated entirely from the " root-
and-branch" men, on the principle succinctly ex
pressed by him, that " where it is not necessary to
change, it is necessary not to change." His mind,
like all higher minds, sought not so much outward
as inward change. He shrank from revolution in
Church or State; but he would have liberalised both,
in a truer and nobler sense than his contemporary
revolutionists, ecclesiastical or political. His ideas
were born out of due time ; and the extremes, first
of destruction and then of reaction, were destined to
run their course. In all times of excitement this is

A MODERATE AND LIBERAL CHURCH. 169
more or less likely to be the case. The voice of
reason is unheard amongst the clamours of party.
And a Falkland dies broken-hearted when a Crom
well and a Clarendon take their turn of success.
But the seed of wise thought never perishes ; and
Falkland's ideal of the Church, no less than of the
State, may yet be realised when bigotries. Christian
and anti- Christian, have more thoroughly consumed
themselves in their internecine heat, and men have
learned that the patient search for truth is better
than all dogmas, and that the charity that thinketh
no evil and rejoiceth in the truth Is a higher Chris
tian gain than the most definite opinions, or even the
faith that could remove mountains.

170

IV.

JOHN HALES OF ETON— RELIGION AND DOGMATIC
ORTHODOXY.
I. John Hales — often dignified as the " ever-mem
orable Mr John Hales of Eton " — deserves the first
place in our series of Theologians. He was the
oldest of the group that surrounded Falkland, and
although the quiet tenor of his life brought him into
few prominent points of contact with the great
events in England through which he passed, his tem
porary residence in Holland during the very crisis of
the struggle betwixt the Calvinists and Arminians, the
influence which this struggle evidently had upon his
thought, and the interesting account which he has left
in his Letters of the meetings of the Synod of Dort,
all connect him directly with the origin of the rational
movement which it is our aim to sketch. Hales's writ
ings, moreover, were amongst the first, as they remain
in some respects the best, expression of the principles
inspiring and guiding the movement. They present
a very complete picture of a singularly fresh, acute,
and boldly ingenious and reflective mind, whose in
fluence has been felt far beyond the circle of those
more intimately associated with him, or who joined
with him in a common object.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 171
" Of the man himself, unhappily, we have not the
same full means of information as we have of the
writer. There is no record of his life of any value.
We must glean, as we best can, its particulars and
their connected significance from Maizeaux's meagre
and somewhat confused volume,^ Wood's ' Athenae
Oxonlenses,' ^ and the Biographical Dictionaries. So
far, indeed, his own Letters from the Synod of Dort,
which are full of life and meaning, will help us, and
we shall weave their personal and descriptive touches,
with some detail, into our sketch. Clarendon's lively
but brief portraiture, and Aubrey's gossip, will also
furnish some points of Interest.
John Hales was born at Bath (Aubrey says Wells)
in 1584. His father was "steward to the family of
the Horners in Somersetshire." ^ He was educated
in his native city in "grammar learning," and at
thirteen years of age entered a scholar of Corpus
Christi College. Here he took his degree in July
1603, and very soon began to attract attention by

^ ' An Historical and Critical Latin, with care and appreciation,
Account of the Life and Writings by the well-known Mosheim {fo.
of the Ever-Memorable Mr John Halesii Celeberrimi Britannorum
Hales,' a thin volume published Theologi Vita, Fata, et Labores),
in 1719 "as a specimen of an prefixed to a Latin translation
Historical and Critical English of Hales's Letters, and published
Dictionary" \ty 'P. Ties M.aS.ze'ixa., in 1724; but it is almost en-
author of a similar volume of a tirely founded on Maizeaux's
more elaborate and valuable char- volume.
acter on Chillingworth. The vol- " Vol. iii. 409-416. Bliss's ed.
ume contains few facts beyond Wood's notice of Hales is inter-
those given by Wood, but it throws esting, but inaccurate and mis-
some light upon the accessory fea- leading.
tures of his later life. ' Athen. Oxon., iii. c. 409.
There is also a life written in Bliss's ed.

172 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
the remarkable character of his attainments. " The
prodigious pregnancy of his parts," says Wood,
" being discovered by the hedge-beaters of Sir Henry
Savile, he was encouraged by them to stand for a
fellowship of Merton College." He obtained this
fellowship in 1605 — " in which election he showed
himself a person of learning above his age and stand
ing." " Through the whole course of his scholar
ship," Wood adds, " there was never any one in the
then memory of man that ever went beyond him for
subtle disputation in philosophy, for his eloquent
declamations and orations ; as also for his exact
knowledge of the Greek tongue." His Greek scholar
ship formed a special bond betwixt him and Savile,
who was then engaged in his famous edition of
Chrysostom, in which he found the young scholar
eminently serviceable. Their friendship was a last
ing one, and the friends were afterwards associated
at Eton as they had been at Oxford.
Shortly after obtaining his fellowship he appears
to have entered into orders, and obtained some fame
as a preacher. In 161 2 he was appointed Greek
Professor ; and the founder of the Bodleian Library,
Sir Thomas Bodley, having died in the following
year. Hales was appointed to deliver his funeral
oration. The oration is published among his writings,
under the title of " Oratio Funebris habita in Col
legio Mertonensi, a Johanne Halesio. Anno 16 13.
Martii 29, quo die Clarlssimo Equiti D. Thomae
Bodleio funus ducebatur." In the month of May^ of
the same year he was admitted a Fellow of Eton.
^ The date of his admission was the 24th May 1613,

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 173
This Is all that we learn of his life during these years.
It Is not till November 16 18 that we see him in the
full daylight ofhis own letters written from Holland.
Thither he accompanied Sir Dudley Carleton, am
bassador to the Hague, as his chaplain ; and when the
Synod met at Dort, he went there to report the pro
ceedings for the interest and benefit of his " right
honourable and very good lord." He held no official
commission to the Synod, and took no part in its
doings along with the deputation from the Church of
England. He is only as an interested onlooker. But
this very fact gives a certain piquancy and liveliness
to his letters, and our readers will not regret to have
their attention called to them. Moreover, the atti
tude of the Remonstrants or Arminians, and the
arguments employed by them in their conflict with
the majority of the Synod, have a significant bearing
upon our general subject.
He was commended to " Mr Bogermannus," ^ the
president of the Synod, who gave him facility for
making himself acquainted with the business trans
acted day by day, and reporting it. His letters open
on a scene more edifying than much that otherwise
engaged the Synod — the appointment of a com
mittee to translate the Scriptures. This is on
Monday the f^ November 161 8. On the following
day we have a curious glimpse of the state of practi
cal religion in the provinces in the midst of all the doc
trinal disputes which had so long rent them asunder.
The Synod gave itself to consider the prevailing
" defect of the afternoon sermons and catechising,
^ John Bogermann, a zealous opponent of the Remonstrants.

174 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
especially in the country villages." ^ This was
attributed to three causes — pastoral negligence,
pluralities, and the " difficulty of reclaiming the
country people on the Sundays, either from their
sports or from their work." Various stringent reme
dies were proposed and adopted ; among others,
that " the ministers should give good example by
bringing their own family to church." The several
deputies from England and Switzerland were " de
sired to deliver their custom in this behalf" " My
Lord Bishop " (Carleton, Bishop of Llandaff ) ^ stated
that the " magistrate imposed a pecuniary mulct
upon such as did absent themselves from divine
duties ; which pecuniary mulct generally prevailed
more with our people than any pious admonitions
could." The deputies from Geneva said that " every
Sunday they had four sermons" !
He then describes,^ on the p, a sermon preached
by " Mr Dean of Worcester" (Hall, afterwards Bishop
of Norwich), " a polite and pathetical Latin sermon,,
made in the Synod house," from Eccles. vii. i6,
"Noli esse Justus nimium, neque esto sapiens nimis."
" After a witty coining upon his text, how it should

^ Letters from the Synod of of Divinity at Cambridge ; Dr
Dort. Hales's Works, vol. iii. 7. Samuel Ward, Master of Sidney
^ George Carleton, who does College ; and the well-known Dr
not appear to have been in any Joseph Hall, mentioned in the
way connected with the ambas- text, afterwards Bishop of Nor-
sador, had also been of Merton wich. Dr Hall's health after a
College, and is said by Wood to short period requiring his return,
have been a severe Calvinist (vol. he was replaced by Dr Thomas
ii. p. 423). The other deputies Goad.
from England were, besides Carle- ' Ibid., p. 20.
ton, Dr John Davenant, Professor

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. I75
come that righteousness and wisdom which are every
where commended unto us should here seem to re
ceive a check, he showed how men might seem to be
too just by too strictly keeping the letter of the law
when sitting in places of justice, or by inflicting too
heavy punishment ; next, in the second word sapiens
nimis, he taxed the Divines by presuming too far in
prying into the judgments of God, and so came to
reprove the curious disputes which our age hath made
concerning predestination ; that this dispute for its
endlessness was like the mathematical line divisibilis
in semper divisibilia, that it was in divinity as the
rule of Cos is in arithmetic."
It is pleasing to recognise thus early Hall's mild
and liberal spirit. His earnest exhortations to peace
and union were taken in good part. " The Praeses,"
It Is said, " gave him thanks for his good pains." It
would have been better, no doubt, if the Synod had
taken his words to heart, and acted upon them.
During this time the Remonstrants, or Arminians,
had not yet arrived ; and for some days still their
coming, or at least their appearance at the Synod,
was delayed. In the interval the Synod busied itself
with various practical questions as to the best manner
of catechising, and whether there should be one or
several modes adapted to different classes of persons,
the education of the clergy, and the celebration of
baptism. In reference to this last question, the chief
difficulty was as to the baptism of children born of
those who were called " ethnic parents." It was de
cided that the children of such parents should " by
no means be baptised till they came to the years of

176 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
discretion" — "a strange decision," says Hales, "and
such as, if my memory or reading fail me not, no
Church, either ancient or modern, ever gave. When
it was objected, 'What if they were in danger of
death ? ' their answer was, that the want of baptism
could not prejudice them with God, except we would
determine as the Papists do, that baptism is neces
sary to salvation. Which Is as much," he adds, " to
undervalue the necessity of baptism as the Church of
Rome doth overvalue It." ^
It is obvious in this, as in other matters, that there
was considerable difference of opinion, and still more
of spirit, between the representatives of the Anglican
Church and the dominant party in the Synod.^ On
the great question at issue, however, with the Re
monstrants there was at first apparently perfect una
nimity. Of all connected with the Church of England,
Hales himself— not excepting Hall — was probablythe
most liberal-minded, and it is impossible to mistake
his bias against them when the Remonstrants are first
introduced, and Episcopius makes his first appeal in
opposition to the competency of the Synod. Before
the end, however, and under the force of certain
arguments of Episcopius, or of others, a considerable
change passed upon his sentiments.
It was on the 6th December,^ that the Remon
strants, headed by Episcopius, appeared at the
1 Letters, p. 42. divines numbered twenty-eight,
2 The Synod was not a numer- and of these the English had the
ous body. The Dutch and Wal- precedence.
loon clergynumbered thirty-eight. ^ " Stylo novo," as he says, and
There were five University Pro- we shall henceforth adhere to this
fessors and twenty-one " Secu- simpler reckoning.
lars," or Lay Elders. The foreign

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 177
Synod.^ " In the midst of the Synod-house a long
table was as if set apart for them, for it had been
hitherto void, no man sitting at It. Here chairs and
forms being set, they were willed to sit down."
Whereupon Episcopius, standing up, made a short
speech, in which he prayed God " to give a blessing
to this meeting, and to pour into their minds such
conceits as best fitted men come together for such
ends ; then he signified that, according to their cita
tion, they were now come ' ad coUationem instltuen-
dam' concerning that cause which hitherto with a
good conscience they had maintained." ^
On the loth of December, Episcopius opened the
conflict of his party with the Synod ; and the letters
of our author assume a. higher interest. He char
acterises, by no means in a complimentary manner,
the speech made by the leader of the Remonstrants
on this occasion, and the opinions expressed by him.
Episcopius recited, he says,^ " e scripto, a long and
tedious speech of two hours at the least, consisting
of two general heads : first, of exceptions they had
against the Synod, ' tanquam in judicem incompeten-
tem;' secondly, of a conceit of their own, what man
ner of a Synod they thought fit it should be which
was to compose these controversies in hand." The
Remonstrants objected to the Synod as entirely com
posed of the adverse party, and " it was against all
equity and nature that the adverse party should be
judge." They objected also because this dominant
party had schismatically separated themselves from
' Letters, p. 45, 46. ^ Ibid., p. 58.
s Ibid., p. 46.
VOL. I. M

178 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
their brethren. They desired a Synod composed of
" certain select men who had taken part with neither
side," — a mere " chimaera saltans in vacuo," he con
tinues ; " such a Synod as never was nor can be."
" I think it could scarcely be found in the Nether
lands, though the sun Itself should seek It." Failing
this, they wished that a Synod should be formed of
" an equal number of both parties, each with their
several preeses and assessors, who should debate the
matter betwixt themselves ;" and If they were unable
to agree, the civil magistrate, as a " Deus e machina,"
was to be called in and " prescribe the moderamen,"
from which there was to be no appeal, " Of the
same thread was the whole of their speech," says
Hales, contemptuously adding, " When they had
well and thoroughly wearied their auditory, they did
that which we much desired — they made an end."
Obviously our author has no bias towards the Ar
minian side. According to his own representation
of the purport of their demands, his judgment seems
severe and one-sided. But on the next appearance
of Episcopius he expresses himself more favour
ably. " Standing up," he says,^ *' Episcopius required
that a little time might be granted to them, and forth
with uttered an Oration ' acretn sane et animosam'
about which, by reason of some particulars in it,
there will grow some stir." He gives an abstract of
the speech, which it is impossible to read without
being struck by the wisdom, ability, moderation,
and courtesy It displays. Hales himself, in some
parts, might be supposed speaking according to the
^ Letters, p. 69.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 179
wisdom of his later writings, for example, in the
following statements : — " They (the Remonstrants)
thought it sufficient if the chief points of religion re
main unshaken. That there had been always sundry
opinions even amongst the fathers themselves, which
yet had not broken out Into separation of minds and
breach of charity. That it was impossible for all
wits to jump In one point. It was the judgment of
Parseus, a great divine, that the greatest cause of
contention in the Church was this, that the school
men's conclusions and cathedral decisions had been
received as oracles and articles of faith. That they
were, therefore, unjustly charged with the bringing
in of a sceptic theology ; they sought for nothing else
but for that liberty, which is the mean betwixt ser
vitude and licence."
Episcopius then described the points against which
he and his friends had set themselves : — " First,
against those conclusions concerning predestination,
which the authors themselves have called horrida
decreta ; secondly, against those who for the five
articles, so called, have made a separation ; thirdly,
against those who cast from them all those who In
some things dissent from them ; and lastly, against
those who taught the magistrate should, with a hood-
winkt obedience, accept what the divines taught
without further inquiry."
He maintained that " the smaller part does not
necessarily make the schism, nor the major part the
right." Although they had been overborne, they
were not defeated : — " The Scriptures and solid rea
son shall be to us Instead of multitudes. The con-

l8o JOHN HALES OF ETON :
science rests not itself upon the number of suffrages,
but upon the strength of reason. Tam parati sumus
vinci, quam vincere. He gets a greater victory, that
being conquered gains the truth. Amicus Socrates,
amicus Plato, amica Synodus, sed magis amica Veritas'.'^
Such are fragments of this remarkable oration of
Episcopius, " delivered with great grace of speech
and oratorical gesture." It is not wonderful that it
impressed Hales, and that he should have been at
pains to report it. It remains to this day a splendid
specimen of eloquent, moderate, and Christian
argument. The lay members particularly were
much affected by the candid enthusiasm of the
speaker, and had they not been powerless In the
hands of the political party that was really guid
ing the movement, good might have come from
it. As it was, no result worthy of such an effort fol
lowed. The President, with characteristic rudeness,
rebuked Episcopius for having spoken at such
length without special leave ; and then demanded a
copy of the speech, in reference to which he sub
sequently sought to fix a charge of falsehood upon
the speaker. Our author gives us a vivid glimpse
of all these personal details, and also of various
altercations between the Synod and the Re
monstrants as to the order of proceeding, and the
delivery of what are called the " considerations " of
the latter, by which are meant certain proposals of
change, particularly in regard to the confession and
catechism, which on former occasions had been urged
by the Remonstrants.
' Letters, p. 73, 74.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. l8l
Various incidents of interest follow. The recep
tion ofthe Scottish commissioner, Waltar Balcanqual,
who reports that " the king, at his coming away, did
charge him, verbis sublimibus, to exhort them unto
peace," is described in a separate letter on the 20th
December: — "The Scotch nation," according to their
Commissioner, " had evermore so Hnkt itself to this
people (the Dutch), that It hath always laboured to
endeavour the peace of this state, and now it was
ready to do as much for the peace of the Churches
amongst them. They had very straitly bound unto
them the Scottish Church (demeruistis ecclesiam Scoti-
canam) by so kindly welcoming him."
The lighter humorous aspects of the Synod are
not forgotten : — " Old Goclenius (one of the foreign
divines) could not let the Remonstrants pass without
a jest, such a one as it was ; for being asked for judg
ment, he put off his hat, and told us that the Remon
strants were ' Canonici irregulares, regular irregulars,'
and put on his hat again. Where the sap of the jest
is, I know not ; but the gravest in the Synod had
much ado to compose their countenances."^
These glimpses, like all real insight into ecclesias
tical assemblies, excite our astonishment at the im
portance which subsequent generations have attached
to them and their decisions. All such conventions are
found more or less to present aspects ridiculous from
their absurdity or shocking from their violence and
unfairness, when the veil is once lifted, and we see
them for a moment as they appeared to an onlooker.
If old Goclenius play the fool, the " presses politicus"
1 Letters, p. 87, 88.

l82 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
('Mr Bogermannus ' ) plays the tyrant. Upon a decree
of the States being read to the Remonstrants, Epis
copius required a copy of it : — " The Prseses asked
him why ? ' Ut pareamus' said Episcopius. ' No,'
said the same Prseses, 'It is only that you may find
some words to cavil at ; and, therefore, they should
have none. It was sufficient that they knew the
meaning of it' This at first," Hales adds, " seemed
to me somewhat hard ; but when I considered that
these were the men which heretofore had, in pre
judice of the Church, so extremely flattered the civil
magistrate, I could not but think this usuage a fit
reward for such service."^
Our author is far from himself here. He forgets
his charity as well as lays aside his judgment. In
appealing to the civil magistrate the Remonstrants
may have been mistaken ; but they only consistently
maintained an opinion which they were entitled to
hold as a party, which many good men have held In
every age, and which both parties — Calvinists and
Remonstrants alike — held when it suited them. But
supposing that they had thereby judged wrongly, this
would be no justification of a clear wrong done them
by the "Prceses politicus " of the Synod in refusing
them a copy of a decree directed against them. The
truth appears to be that Hales was somewhat wearied
with the importunity and calm resistance of the Re
monstrants. The slowness and delays ofthe business
troubled him ; for he speaks of the session at which
these things took place, Friday 21st, as "a long, a
troublesome, and a fruitless session." He is puzzled
^ Letters, p. 90.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 183
also about his movements. The Synod is adjourned
to Thursday of the following week, and his honour
the ambassador had evidently wished him in the in
terval to return to the Hague ; but he excuses him
self as a poor traveller : — " I am but a silly traveller,
and conveniently I cannot travel without a guide.
The days being short, and the tide coming somewhat
late, night would quickly come. Now for me to go
by night, having neither language nor any to conduct
me, must needs be very inconvenient."
During the next three weeks or so — that is, from
27th Dec. to 15th Jan. (16 18-19) — the business of the
Synod came to " a great crisis," as it is described by
our author. He sets forth the main details in a very
graphic way, still showing, upon the whole, strong
sympathy with the dominant side. So far evidently
the foreign deputies tried to mediate between the
parties, but without success. The Remonstrants
continued firm In their attitude of resistance. The
points in dispute were, first, as to the order to be
held In discussing the articles ; whether the question
of reprobation were to be handled after the five
articles, or whether it should be handled in the first
place, as the Remonstrants desired. " They pre
tended," says Hales, "their doubts lay especially
there ; and that being cleared, they thought they
could show good conformity In all the rest." The
second difficulty was the objection of the Remon
strants to be assailed with "interrogations, which
they very much disdained as pedagogical." The
third was as to their " liberty of disputation," whether
it was to be limited by the discretion of the Synod,

1 84 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
or large and unlimited, according as It pleased
them. The first of these points particularly excited a very
vehement discussion, In which Episcopius, as usual,
on the side of the Remonstrants, and ' D. Gomarus,'
on the side of the Synod, are the prominent figures.
" The point of reprobation is that," said Episco
pius, " ' quod maxime nos segre habet,' — he could not
endure that doctrine concerning the absolute decree
of God ; that God should peremptorily decree to cast
the greatest part of mankind away only because He
would. Corvinus answered that he could not ' Salva
conscientia versari in ministerio,' till that point was
cleared ; Isaacus FredericI that ' praecipuum momen
tum' was in that question ; others that on the ques
tion of election they had no scruple ; all their doubt
was on the point of reprobation ; and therefore their
conscience would not suffer them to proceed further
in disputation till that matter were discussed." ^
On the other hand, Gomar,^ " that saw that his
iron was in the fire (for I persuade myself that the
Remonstrants' spleen Is chiefly against him), began
to tell us that Episcopius had falsified the tenet of
reprobation; that no man taught that God absolutely
decreed to cast man away without sin ; but as He
did decree the end, so He did decree the means ;
that so as He predestinated man to death, so He
1 Letters, p. 94, 95. which the Synod of Dort opened,
2 Francis Gomar was the great he was settled as Professor of
opponent of Arminius at Leyden, Hebrew and Divinity at Gronin-
where they were colleagues as gen, where he died in 1641. He
Professors of Divinity in the first was partially educated in Eng-
decade of the 17th century. In land, and was a Calvinist of the
the year 1618, at the close of extreme school.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 1 85
predestinated him to sin, the only way to death ; and so
he mended the question," adds our author, whose sym
pathies cannot stand such a strain as this, " as tinkers
mend kettles, and made it worse than it was before."^
Reiterated discussion was of no use ; the Remon
strants were " called in," and the president, " after a
short admonition," requested to know whether they
would proceed according to the order desired by the
Synod ; but as Invariably they declined to do so.
Evidently they saw that their cause was prejudged.
In truth, they had been summoned, not as Episcopius
signified on his first appearance, " ad collationem in-
stituendam," not to conference, but merely to give in
an account of their opinions, and leave them to the
judgment of the Synod. This was urged quite fairly
against them, according to the terms of their sum
mons.^ They could not claim to be exempted from
these terms, and yet they would not yield without a
free discussion in all things, and especially on the
point of reprobation, which they knew was the weak
point in the Contra-Remonstrant's doctrine. They
had no alternative but ignominiously to submit to
condemnation, or to take up an attitude which they
should have taken up primarily, and refused to ap
pear under such a summons at all. Virtually they
declined the judgment of the Synod as pars adversa.
When driven to it, Episcopius said, "We are resolved,
agere pro judicio nostro non pro judicio Synodi ;^
words which one of the seculars or political members
"^ Letters, p. 96. the other Professors of Divinity
^ With the exception of Epis- to take his seat in the Synod. See
copius, who had been originally Calder's Life, p. 242-75.
summoned in the same terms as ^ Letters, p. 100.

l86 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
of the Synod " willed should be noted." At length,
on the 14th January, they were dismissed with bitter
reproaches by the Prseses : — " ' I will dismiss you,'
he said, ' with no other elogy than one of the
foreigners gave you — qtio coepistis pede eodem cedite —
with a lie you made your entrance into the Synod,
with a lie you take your leave of it, in denying lately
that ever you protested yourselves provided to give
answer on the articles, or to have had any such
writing ready, which all the Synod knows to be false.
Your actions all have been full of fraud, equivocations,
and deceit. That, therefore, the Synod may at
length piously and peaceably proceed to the perfect
ing of that business for which it has come together,
you are dismist. But assure you, the Synod will make
known your pertlnacy to all the Christian world ; and
know that the Belgic Churches want not arma spiri
tualia with which in time convenient they will pro
ceed against you. Quamobrem vos delegatorum et
Synodi nomine dimitto, exite.' So with much mut
tering the Remonstrants went out ; and Episcopius
going away, said, ' Dominus Deus judicabit de frau-
dlbus et mendaciis ;' Sapma, ' Exeo ex ecclesia ma-
lignantium.' And so the Synod brake up." ^
Thus were the Remonstrants thrust from the Synod
of Dort. The issue was probably inevitable. The
Synod was entitled to vindicate its jurisdiction and
the terms on which it had been convened, which the
Arminians had so far accepted by obeying the sum
mons. Yet the result was unhappy, and the mode
of their dismissal in the highest degree undignified
^ Letters, p. 123, 124.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 1 87
and unbecoming. It was very soon felt that a great
mistake had been committed. Hales gives expres
sion to this feeling : " The most partial spectator of
our synodal acts," he says, " cannot but confess that
In the late dismission of the Remonstrants with so
much choler and heat, there was a great oversight
committed." There appears to have been some idea
of trying to repair the mistake. But this was found
to be impossible. As our author remarks, such mis
takes of public action are " with less inconvenience
tolerated than amended." The Synod could not re
trace its steps without loss of dignity ; and so another
example was presented of the folly of ecclesiastical
assemblies convened under the impulse of sectarian
zeal, rather than of enlarged Christian enlightenment,
and an honest wish to deal fairly and charitably with
questions which must always divide men so long as
they are serious subjects of thought.
After the dismissal of the Remonstrants from the
Synod of Dort the interest of Hales's letters very
much diminishes, although they continue fdr about a
month longer. Then, on the 9th of February 16 19,
they suddenly terminate. After about three months'
attendance he was evidently well wearied of the busi
ness. Several causes contributed to this. His own
interest in the dogmatic distinctions under discus
sion, never very keen, grew languid with the ap
parently Interminable altercations and delays. He
was no zealot ; and while approving, upon the whole,
of the position of the dominant party, he was clear
sighted enough to see the unfair violence with
which men like Gomar maintained their opinions

1 88 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
and assailed those of others. Martinlus of Breme,
having, after the departure of the Remonstrants,
ventured to state some scruples " about the
manner of Christ's being fmdamenttim electionis,
Gomar started up and exclaimed, ' Ego hanc rem
In me recipio,' and therewith cast his glove, and
challenged Martinlus with the proverb, ' Ecce Rho-
dum ecce Saltum,' and required the Synod to grant
them a duel." The Synod was glad by fair words to
pacify the combatants, and according to custom the
session was concluded with prayer. But, slyly adds
our author, " zeal and devotions had not so well
allayed Gomarus his choler, but Immediately after
prayers he renewed his challenge, and required combat
with Martinlus again ; but they parted for that night
without blows." Hales plainly felt himself less and
less at home amidst such scenes of polemic violence.
Another feature of the proceedings shocked his
sense of justice, while it necessarily abated his inte
rest. The main business of the Synod was tran
sacted, not in public, but In private. The real con
clusions were prearranged at private sessions, and
the " evening sessions," which appear henceforth to
have been the only public ones, he says, " are only
to entertain the auditory, not to determine anything
at all." ^ It had been at first debated in the Synod
" whether they should admit of hearers, or do all in
private." Old Sibrandus ^ was very hot against the
¦" Letters, p. 148. In the same pestively beforehand bewray a
letter he says, " All this business resolution," p. 149.
of citing, referring, examining, ^ An old and irascible opponent
must needs seem only as acted of Episcopius at Franeker.
on a stage, if the Synod intem-

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 189
auditory, and thought it not fit that any care should
be had of them, as being only " mulierctilce et pauculi
juvenes incauti;" a complaint in which our author
admits there was some reason ; " for many youths,
yea, and artificers, and I know not what rabble
besides, thrust in and hurtle the place ; and, as for
women," he somewhat ungallantly adds, "whole
troops of them have been seen there, and the best
places for spectators reserved for them ; while they
must needs expose the Synod to the scorn of those
who lie In wait to take exception against it." The
decision, however, was in favour of the public, as it
generally is in such cases.
Hales's language, in speaking of the auditory,
almost implies some feeling of personal affront, for
we must remember that he was not, like his brother
divines from England, a member of the Synod. He
was merely there himself as an auditor and reporter,
seated, probably, among the " youths, artificers, and
I know not what rabble besides," without even the
means of light to carry on his reporting, as he says
In a letter a few days later. " I would willingly,"
he writes, on the 29th January, " have given your
honour an account of his speech " (a speech by
Altingius, one of the Palatine professors, whose
discourse appeared to him " the most sufficient " of
any he had yet heard) ; but " it was in the evening,
and the auditory are allowed no candles, so that I
could not use my tables." We do not wonder,
therefore, that a few days further we find him inti
mating that if he had his lodging discharged he
would willingly leave. He inquires, like a prudent

igo JOHN HALES OF ETON :
man, whether his " honour was to answer the charge
of his lodging, or the public purse." " I would
willingly be resolved of it," he continues, " because
I have a desire to return to the Hague ; first,
because the Synod proceeding as it doth, I do not
see that It Is operce pretium for me here to abide,
and then because I have sundry private occasions
that call upon me to return."
So after a single letter more, which contains no
further hint of his movements, he returned, and we
hear no more of him in connection with the Synod
of Dort. His presence there, however, was not
without a lasting influence on his opinions. His
letters help us but slightly to trace the progress of
this influence, but his subsequent writings make it
plainly manifest. There Is a story told by his
" intimate friend," Farlndon,^ according to which
he himself attributed a distinct change in his theo
logical sentiments to a speech of Episcopius in
handling St John, iii. i6. "There he bid John
Calvin good-night, as he often told." There is
some confusion, but probably also some truth in
this story. The only reference we find, in his
letters, to John, Hi. i6, is not In regard to Episcopius,
but Martinlus of Breme, to whom allusion has been
already made, and who founded much on this famous
text. Martinlus was evidently an able man, of liberal
and at the same time evangelical sentiments, and it
is possible that his arguments drawn from this pas
sage of the Gospels may have moved our author.
There is, on the other hand, no evidence from his
^ Maizeaux, Ace. 3.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 191
own correspondence that his opinions were at
the time much affected by anything Episcopius
said. Of the gradual change in his sentiments there can
be no doubt, and there were probably many concur
ring causes for it. Of a calm, reflective, and patient
temper — gifted with a shrewd, quiet insight, and
a great natural love of fairness — he could not be an
auditor for three months of an assembly like that
of Dort without feeling that the truth did not all lie
on one side. The spectacle presented to him — of
extreme orthodoxy with unchristian choler, of con
tentious zeal aiming at triumph, rather than of
earnest thoughtfulness anxious for light — could
not but start new trains of inquiry in a mind so
open and candid as his. It naturally forced upon
him the general question of the value of theological
dogmatism, and the grounds on which men seek
to control each other's opinions and beliefs.
All his writings prove that this was the form In
which a theological change matured in his mind.
His was no passage from one extreme of opinion
to another. If he bade John Calvin good-night, he
did not say good-morning to- Arminius. He did not
pass from one side to another. His mind was of far
too high an order, his gift of spiritual insight far too
delicate and subtle, to admit of his doing this. When
he left the narrowness of Calvinism, he did so not
because he became possessed by some other narrow
ness, but because he saw from a higher field of vision
how little dogmatic precision has to do with spiritual
truth, and how hopeless it is to tie and confine this

192 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
truth under definite creeds and systems. We shall
find abundant evidence of this immediately.
Hales returned to England in the beginning of
1 619 (Feb.), and appears to have settled at Eton in
the quiet enjoyment of his Fellowship. He passed
his time probably betwixt Eton and London, patiently
working out the deeper thoughts about religion which
had been quickened in him by his experience In Hol
land, and occasionally joining in the more stirring
social life of the metropolis. It was In the years
following that Ben Jonson gathered around him the
brilliant set of intellectualists and young poets known
as the " Apollo," whom we have already described.
He was appointed Poet Laureate In the very year
of Hales's return, and, we are told, " was frequently
received at Windsor, where he was on familiar terms
with the royal family." It may have been during
one of these visits that he and our author became
acquainted, for it Is also said of the latter that " when
the King and Court resided at Windsor, he was
much frequented by noblemen and courtiers, who
delighted much in his company, not for his severe
and retired walks of learning, but for his polite dis
courses, stories, and poetry." ^ This is not incon
sistent with Clarendon's description of his living a
life of studious seclusion " amongst his books," but
" very well pleased with the resort of his friends to
him, who were such as he had chosen, and In whose
company he delighted," and only making at rare
intervals — " once In a year " — a journey to London
to enjoy the conversation of his friends there.^ Falk-
^ Wood. ' Life, i. 59.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 193
land, it is to be remembered, had not yet, nor for
nearly ten years after Hales's retirement to Eton,
joined the Jonson set of wits — nor Suckling either ;
and it is in connection with them especially that we
hear of him in this society.
From the time that Falkland appears in London,
or during the significant decade that preceded the
meeting of the Long Parliament, we can hardly sup
pose Hales's life at Eton to have been so extremely
secluded as Clarendon's words suggest. His mind,
for one thing, was by this time actively at work
regarding the alarming state of the Church and
public affairs in general. He was maintaining an
active intercourse or correspondence with Chilling
worth as to the composition of his great work.^ We
are told,^ moreover, that " his company was much
desired" by the wits and poets In town, amongst
whom Falkland and Suckling, with Ben Jonson him
self, are particularly mentioned — and that " he used
often to meet with them, and held very well his
part in those ingenious conversations," Suckling's
allusion to him in the ' Session of Poets ' and some
interesting lines which he has directly addressed to
him, imply the same thing. Hales was evidently
at this time no stranger in the poetic fraternity,
although coy of his visits. He loved his quiet
ease at Eton and his books. He required to be
tempted to town ; but the attractions there were
evidently sufficient to draw him not infrequently
from his retreat. Suckling writes as a pleasant
genial friend who often met him and enjoyed his
^ Wood. ^ Maizeaux.
VOL. I. N

194 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
company. The lines give a very pleasing picture
of our author's mingled sweetness and gravity — his
retired studiousness and fondness for subtle argu
ment, and yet his appreciation of " wit and wine,"
and the claims of good-fellowship. Whatever may
be his theological preoccupations, —
" Whether these lines do find you out,
Putting or clearing of a doubt ;
Whether predestination.
Or reconciling three in one ;
Or the unriddling how men die,
And live at once eternally," —
he is exhorted to " leave Socinus and the school
men," and, " bestriding the college steed," to " come
to town :" — " 'Tis fit you show
Yourself abroad, that men may know
(Whate'er some learned men have guess'd)
That oracles are not yet ceased :
There you shall find the wit and wine
Flowing alike, and both divine :
Dishes, with names not known in books,
And less amongst the college cooks ;
With sauce so pregnant, that you need
Not stay till hunger bids you feed.
The sweat of learned Jonson's brain.
And gentle Shakspeare's easier strain,
A hackney-coach conveys you to,
In spite of all that rain can do :
And for your eighteen pence you sit
The lord and judge of all fresh wit.
News in one day, as much we've here
As serves all Windsor for a year,
And which the carrier brings to you.
After 't has here been found not true.
Then think what company's design'd
To meet you here : men so refin'd,

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 195
Their very common talk at board
Makes wise or mad a young court-lord,
And makes him capable to be
Umpire in's father's company.
Where no disputes, nor forc'd defence
Of a man's person for his sense,
Take up the time ; all strive to be
Masters of truth, as victory :
And where you come, I'd boldly swear
A synod might as easily err."
Agreeable, however, as Hales's occasional visits to
London and its " refined" and sparkling society may
have been, his life at Eton was, after all, his main
business. It would have been Interesting to lift the
veil upon him "amongst his books" — as he pur
sued his studies in the seclusion of the college,
or meditated amidst the rich and peaceful glades
around. But we have no adequate means of doing
this. That old scholastic life has not been pre
served in any clear traces that can be set before our
readers. Yet we can tell something of Hales's
companionship also at Eton, and see that it must
have been not only pleasant, but In a high degree
congenial and stimulating.
During the period of his residence as a Fellow
there were two provosts, both of them his special
friends, of marked character and distinction. One,
Sir Henry Savile, has been already mentioned. He
was Hales's patron and friend at Oxford, where they
belonged to the same college (Merton), and worked
together at the edition of Chrysostom, so well known
under Savile's name. After his own transference to
Eton, it was probably his influence as provost that

196 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
procured Hales's later appointment to a fellowship
there. This is indeed expressly affirmed.'^ Savile
was a man of solid and fine acquirements, de
voted to science no less than scholarship, as his
grants to Oxford abundantly testify. His liberal
ity was on a truly munificent scale. His edition
of Chrysostom, in eight folio volumes, is said to
have cost even then _^8ooo, and for the purpose
of completing it, he himself visited all the public
and private libraries of Britain, and sent learned
men for similar research into France, Germany,
Italy, and the East. A much older man than Hales
— having been born in the middle of the previous
century — ¦ their relation throughout was probably
somewhat of the nature of patron and pupil ; but
their joint labours on Chrysostom had brought them
into very cordial fellowship, and their tastes and
spirit of thought were in many respects suited to
one another.
But Hales's theological as well as personal sym
pathies found more to engage them in Savile's
illustrious successor, after a brief Interval, in the
provostship of Eton College. Of all who have
adorned this high position, no one has brought to It
more distinction, or displayed in it a more wise and
exalted mind, than Sir Henry Wotton. Belonging
to an accomplished family, all the members of which
more or less distinguished themselves, he had been
carefully educated at Oxford, and then for six^ years
1 Chalmers's Biog. Diet., XXVI I. Wotton, has nine years, but a
^ Walton, one of whose charm- comparison of dates shows this is
ing lives is that of Sir Henry a mistake. From a letter, of date

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 197
abroad, in intercourse with Beza, Isaac Casaubon,
and " the most eminent men for learning and all
manner of arts." He became both a great German
and Italian scholar, and an " amateur and most ex
cellent judge of painting, sculpture, chemistry, and
architecture." His introduction to political life in
connection with the famous Earl of Essex — Eliza
beth's favourite — was unfortunate. But he escaped
from this connection, went again abroad, and entered
into the confidential service of the Grand Duke of
Tuscany. It was while in this service that he was
employed in a remarkable mission which prepared
the way for his future advancement. Letters having
been intercepted by the Grand Duke, which dis
covered a design of taking away the life of James VI.
of Scotland, Wotton was sent secretly into that
country, disguised as an Italian, obtained a private
conference with his Majesty, and, in return for his
information, received high marks of favour. " He
departed," says Walton, " as true an Italian as he
came." On James's accession to the English throne,
Wotton came home, was knighted, and obtained an
important diplomatic appointment as ambassador to
the republic of Venice. A series of similar posts,
culminating with that of the embassy at the Court
of Vienna, occupied him till the year before James's
death, when he finally returned to England ; and
July 1592, it appears that he had the Earl of Essex. It has been
been then abroad three years, and supposed that the mistake had
about three years later he was at arisen out of a transposition of
home, and appointed secretary to ' the figures 9 and 6.

198 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
In 1624 was appointed Provost of Eton. The
statutes of the college requiring the provost to be
in holy orders, he resolved to comply with them,
and was ordained deacon, notwithstanding his ad
vanced years and long political career.^ This change
in his mode of life gave a turn to his whole thoughts,
and he betook himself earnestly to the study of divinity
and the spiritual exercises becoming his new position.
" After his customary public devotions his use was to
retire into his study, and there to spend some hours
in reading the Bible and authors in divinity, closing
up his meditations with private prayer : this was,
for the most part, his employment in the forenoon.
But when he was once sat to dinner, then nothing
but cheerful thoughts possessed his mind, and those
still Increased by constant company at his table of
such persons as brought thither additions both of
learning and pleasure ; but some part of most days
was usually spent in philosophical conclusions. Nor
did he forget," Walton characteristically adds, " his
Innate pleasure of angling, which he would usually
call ' his idle time not idly spent ; ' saying often,
' he would rather live five May months than forty
Decembers.' " ^
To his divinity studies Wotton brought the varied
experience and wide thoughtfulness which he had
acquired in Intercourse with learned and religious
1 Born in 1568, he was, of angle in company is known as the
course, when appointed Provost " Black Pots." It is close to the
of Eton, fifty-six years of age. college, in a bend of the Thames,
' Walton's Life. The place where the South-Western Railway
where Sir Henry Wotton and now crosses the river.
Isaac Walton were accustomed to

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 199
men throughout Europe. He had seen what Chris
tian good there may be in very different forms of
religious faith and worship ; and so, like Hales, he
disliked greatly the prevalent spirit of religious con
tentiousness.^ Numerous stories have been pre
served of his catholicity of feeling, and the success
ful repartee with which he would retort on trouble
some questioners. To one that asked him, " Whe
ther a Papist may be saved ? " he replied, " You
may be saved without knowing that : look to your
self" To another, who was railing against the
Papists, he gave this advice : " Pray, sir, forbear
till you have studied the points better ; for the wise
Italians have this proverb, ' He that understands
amiss concludes worse.' And take heed of thinking
the farther you go from the Church of Rome the
nearer you are to God." But he had no less some
thing pointed to say to the disputatious Romanist.
Being at Rome, " a pleasant priest " invited him one
evening to hear their vesper music at church. The
priest seeing Sir Henry stand obscurely in a corner,
sent to him by a boy of the choir the question,
written on a small piece of paper, " Where was your
religion to be found before Luther ? " To which
question Sir Henry presently underwrlt, " My reli
gion was to be found then where yours is not to be
found now. In the written Word of God." His
testimony to Arminius is as creditable to his Chris
tian fairness as anything recorded of him. " In my
1 He directed the following in- "Hic jacet hujus Sententise primus
scription to be put upon his tomb- Author
.  Disputandi pruritus Ecclesiaricm Scabies
Nomen alias qusere."

200 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
travel toward Venice, as I passed through Germany
I rested almost a year at Leyden, where I entered
into an acquaintance with Arminius — then the pro
fessor of divinity in that university — a man much
talked of in this age, which is made up of opposition
and controversy. And, indeed, if I mistake not
Arminius in his expressions — as so weak a brain as
mine is may easily do — then I know I differ from
him In some points ; yet I profess my judgment of
him to be, that he was a man of most rare learning,
and I know him to be of a most strict life, and of a
most meek spirit."
These stories, and others of a similar import, are
told us on the best authority by Walton ; and all
serve to show how entirely Sir Henry Wotton must
have been a man after Hales's own heart. Their
intercourse could not fail to have been frequent and
pleasant in those afternoons which the provost was
wont to give to his friends, and " such persons as
brought additions of learning and pleasure." "He
was a great lover of his neighbours," and there was
no one " like-minded," who could enter into his
thoughts, or share his learning, or " care for his
state," like his erudite, acute, and bright-wltted col
league. Hales may have learned something of his
breadth and freedom of opinion from one to whose
experience and knowledge of the world he would
be disposed to defer. Wotton's cast of mind and
large charity would certainly help the develop
ment of his own thoughts. Their intercourse Is
said to have been particularly frequent in the latter
part of Wotton's life, when he became " more re-

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 201
tired and contemplative." In one of those visits,
when he felt his end drawing near, he is said to
have addressed Hales to the following purpose :
" I have in my passage to my grave met with most
of those joys of which a discursive soul is capable.
Nevertheless, in the voyage I have not
always floated on the calm sea of content, but have
often met with cross winds and storms, and with
many troubles of mind and temptations to evil.
Yet Almighty God hath by His grace prevented me
from making shipwreck of faith and a good con
science, the thought of which is now the joy of
my heart, and I most humbly praise Him for it.
And, my dear friend, I now see that I
draw near my harbour of death ; that harbour
that will secure me from all the future storms and
waves of this restless world ; and I praise God
I am willing to leave it, and expect a better — that
world wherein dwelleth righteousness — and I long
for it."i
Wotton died in the autumn of 1639, and before
this Hales had in some degree emerged from his
retirement, in connection not only with the London
litterateurs, whose feasts he occasionally graced, but
with the great Church questions of his time. His
famous ' Tract concerning Schism and Schismatics '
was certainly written before this, although not
printed till some time later (1642). There is no
reason, indeed, to doubt the statement that It
was written about 1636, at Chillingworth's request,
to assist him in the composition of ' The Religion of
1 Walton's Life.

202 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
Protestants,' absurd as are Wood's comments in con
nection with the statement. It has the air of being
intended for such a purpose, and Hales himself says
that it was written " for the use of a private friend."
But there are at least two other and very character
istic writings of Hales which belong to this important
period — namely, his tracts ' Concerning the Power of
the Keys,' and ' On the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper.' The former bears the date of 1637; and
the latter, which Is particularly interesting, must be
concluded to be as early, if not earlier. It was evi
dently written in the heart of the Romanist contro
versy, which was then violently agitating England,
and more or less engrossing all inquiring minds.
Like all his writings at this time, It was elicited from
him by the application of some correspondent or
friend, whose name is not disclosed. The follow
ing significant allusion to the influence of the
Romish teachers closes the tract : " If you shall
favour me so much as to carefully read what I have
carefully written, you shall find (at least in those
points you occasioned me to touch upon) sufficient
ground to plant yourself strongly against all discourse
of the Romish corner-creepers, which they use for the
seducing of unstable souls."
Besides these acknowledged writings of Jiales
at this period, there are two brief Latin treatises
which have been attributed to him, one of as
early a date as 1628, and the other published in
1633. The first bears the general title, ' Anony-
mi Dissertatio de Pace et Concordia Ecclesise,'
and the second Is spoken of as the ' Brevis Dis-

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 203

qulsltlo.' ^ The ques'tion of the authorship of these
treatises, at least of the second of them, is impor
tant In its bearing on Hales's general position, and
his honesty as a religious thinker. Wood may be
considered the chief, and in a sense the only de
finite authority, for attributing these writings to our
author. He enumerates them among the " things
written" by him; but, not to insist upon the sus
picious source^ on which he evidently relied In

^ The full title of this tract is as
follows : ' Brevis Disquisitio, an
et quomodo vulgo dicti Evange-
lici Pontificios, ac nominatim
Val. Magni de Acatholicorum
credendi regula Judicium, solids
atque evidenter refutare queant.'
Maizeaux has examined with pa
tience, and not a little critical
acumen, the external evidence as
to the authorship of these tracts,
and concludes decidedly, not only
that they are not the production
of Hales, but that they belong to
the writers to which they are re
spectively attributed in Sandius's
' Bibliotheca Anti-Trinitariorum;'
the 'Dissertatio de Pace,' &c., hav
ing been written by a Polish
knight, Samuel Przipcovius, and
the 'Brevis Disquisitio,' &c., by Jo-
achimus Stegmannus, a celebrated
Socinian minister. Both pamph
lets may be found by the English
reader, admirably translated, in
the second volume of the Phenix,
a collection of rare pamphlets,
chiefly of the seventeenth century.
^ The original source of the ru
mour which connected Hales with
the ' Brevis Disquisitio' seems to
have been ecclesiastical gossip in

the heyday of Laud's power, re
vived by Heylin, his biographer,
after the Restoration (see p. 208),
and emphasised by a somewhat
reckless and coarse writer, Dr
Samuel Parker, who became
Bishop of Oxford in the reign of
James II. Parker, whom we may
afterwards meet in the course of
our history, in connection with
the Cambridge Platonic school,
had a famous controversy, in 1673,
regarding the Separatists from the
Church of England, with Andrew
Marvell, Milton's friend, in which
the latter introduced Hales's
name, with commendation, and
appealed to his tract on Schism.
He ventured to contrast the spirit
of the writer with that of Parker,
and to add, " I could not but ad
mire that majesty and beauty
which sits upon the forehead of
masculine truth and generous
honesty, but no less detest the
deformity of falsehood disguised
in all its ornaments." — Rehearsal
Transprosed, p. 134, 135. The
comparison seems to have excited
Parker's coarse temper ; and in his
reply, ' A Reproof to the Rehearsal
Transprosed,' he fell foul of Hales

204 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
making his statement, the obvious prejudices and
frequent inaccuracy of the worthy author of the
' Athense Oxonlenses ' deprive his evidence of any
value on such a point. The examination of the
tracts themselves is sufficient to convince every stu
dent of Hales's writings that he Is not their author,
and beyond all question not the author of the
' Brevis Disquisitio,' which chiefly warrants the
charges of Socinianism made by Wood, and repeated
by others. With a certain likeness of tone in speak
ing of the general subject of reason— a likeness, after
all, more superficial than real, as the writer of the
Disquisition lacks the finer temper and balance of
mind with which our author always expresses him
self on this subject — there is otherwise no resem
blance whatever betwixt the writers. The dogmatic
attitude of the author of the Latin treatise is a
clearly defined one — equally opposed to Lutherans,
Calvinists, and Papists. He distinctly separates
himself from the two former — "those who follow
Luther and Calvin for their guides In religion " — as
well as from the latter ; and objects not only to the
superstitions of Popery, but to the distinctive tenets

as well as of his admirer. " The many of those who were otherwise
next time," he said, " you nose the favourers of Parker's cause, that
Church of England with Mr he (Parker), through a too loose
Hales, let the ' Disquisitio Brevis' and unwary handling of the de-
be your book." bate (though in a brave, flourish-
Wood speaks of this " pen-com- ing, and lofty style), laid himself
bat" between Parker and Marvell too open to the severe strokes of
as " briskly managed, with much his sneering adversary, and that
smart, cutting, and satirical wit on the odds and victory laid on Mar-
both sides ; " but he admits that veil's side." — Ath. Oxon., c. 619,
it was "generally thought, even by quoted by Maizeaux.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 205
of evangelical Protestantism — the Trinity, the In
carnation, the meritorious satisfaction of Christ, and
even original sin and Infant baptism — as unreasonable
and unscriptural. This is entirely inconsistent with
the spirit of Hales, and the characteristic tendencies
of his mode of thought.
The earlier treatise on the ' Peace and Concord of
the Church ' might more possibly be conceived to
have proceeded from his pen. It is in some respects
a beautiful and striking composition, and in its general
character highly consistent with his enlightened and
tolerant Protestantism. It has nothing of the hard,
dogmatic, and somewhat flippant tone with which the
' Brevis Disquisitio ' opposes orthodox dogmatism.
But it too bears clear Internal marks of foreign
authorship. It is evidently written by one with the
miseries of the Thirty Years' War before his eyes,
and with more information as to the state of religious
opinion and religious parties on the Continent than
Hales, even with the advantage of his residence at
Holland, can well be supposed to have. While an
auditor at the Synod of Dort, he was still, we have
seen, a Calvinist ; and although he may have after
wards " bid Calvin good-night," he never took up a
line of definite antagonism to Calvinism, and it may
be said with confidence, would never have written
regarding the doctrine of predestination as the author
of this dissertation does. Still less was he likely to
do this anonymously at so early a date after his re
turn from Holland in 1628, and in the first writing
deliberately given by him to the world.
We are freed, therefore, from the necessity of ex-

2o6

JOHN HALES OF ETON :

aminlng these writings, and we might be excused from
considering the charge founded on them, did It not
crop out so frequently in the literature of the cen
tury, and reappear in ignorant comment on our author's
acknowledged writings, such as the tract on Schism.
Aubrey, of course, repeats it, in his usual gossiping
manner. "He " (Hales) "was one ofthe first Socinians
in England, I think the first," is his confident state
ment; and Professor Masson quotes Aubrey apparent
ly without any consciousness that he is doing Hales
a gross injustice.-^ The charge, moreover, recurs In
the case of Chillingworth in a still more definite and

'Aubrey, ii. 363, 18 13; Life
of Milton, i. 500. There can be
no doubt that it is a real injus
tice to writers of acknowledged
theological eminence, and who
have been at pains to make their
religious views and position clear
to the world, to have talk like
that of Aubrey's quoted against
them. Inmattersof religious opin
ion, Aubrey's judgment is of no
more value than that of any
social gossip-monger would be in
our own day. The phrase, " the
first Socinian in England," seems
to have been a favourite catch-
phrase with him, borrowed pro
bably from his gossiping circle.
He applies it in an exactly similar
manner, and with the same wan
tonness, to Falkland — although
Falkland, we have seen, placed
the encouragement even of Ar
minianism on the same level with
that of Popery as a charge against

the Laudian bishops. The worth
of Aubrey's statements about So
cinianism may be guessed by his
further statements in the same
page — almost in the same breath.
Hales was something of a Fam-
ilist as well as a Socinian, if he is
to be believed. For he adds :
" I have heard his nephew, Mr
Sloper, say that he much loved to
read . . . Steph anus, who was
a Familist, I think that first wrote
of that sect ofthe Familieof Love :
he was mightily taken with it, and
was wont to say, that sometime or
other these fine notions would take
in the world." Even Wood, whose
own accuracy and insight are
frequently to be questioned, speaks
of Aubrey — in words quoted by
Professor Masson — as a credulous
person, "roving and magotie-
headed," who was in the habit of
stuffing his letters with " folliries
and misinformations.''

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 207
flagrant form. It thus forces itself upon the atten
tion of the historian of the rational school of thought
in the seventeenth century, and deserves a passing
notice. The truth is, that there is not the slight
est ground for suspecting either Hales or Chilling
worth of Socinianism, beyond the fact that they
argue vigorously and directly for the claims of
reason in the interpretation of Scripture and the
criticism of dogma. To carry out in this manner
Protestantism to its legitimate conclusions, and
vindicate consistently the right of private judg
ment, has been always adjudged by certain limited
dogmatists — supposed heroes of Protestantism, but
really traitors to its essential principles — to par
take of the nature of Socinianism. As if it were a
matter of course that the conclusions of Scripture
and reason must be opposed, and that to rest finally
In the arbitration of enlightened Christian thought
must be to rest in something short of, or contrary to,
the conclusions of evangelical theology ! But this is
to be unfair at once to evangelical theology and to
reason. We may surely ask with a candid Roman
Catholic author of the seventeenth century, " Does the
making private reason judge of the true sense of Scrip
ture Infer that neither Christ nor the Holy Ghost
are God ? that the pains of hell are not eternal ? that
separate souls have no being, or at least no percep
tion ? &c. God forbid : for then how many innocent
persons would be guilty of blasphemies unawares to
themselves ? Then not only Mr Chillingworth, but
Dr Stillingfleet, and besides them, God knows how

208 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
many more in London and in the universities of
England, would be Socinians."^
As to Hales, the charge of Socinianism is peculiarly
unwarrantable, for he has left us of his own free
thought his confession of the Trinity, which is as
clear, full, and explicit as any Trinitarian can desire.
We cannot quote the whole of it, but the following
statements will be allowed to leave his orthodoxy
beyond question : " God Is one, yet so one that
He admits of distinction ; and so admits of distinc
tion that He still retains unity. As He is one, so we
call Him God, the Deity, the Divine Nature, and
other names of the same signification : as He is
distinguished, so we call Him Trinity ; persons,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. In this Trinity there
Is one essence. . . . The pne essence Is God,
which with His relation, that it doth generate, or
beget, makes the person of the Father : the same
essence with this relation, that it is begotten, maketh
the person of the Son : the same essence with this
relation, that it proceedeth, maketh the person of the
Holy Ghost."2
It Is in connection with 'this question of ortho
doxy and his tract on Schism that we find our author
brought into significant connection with Laud in
1 638. Heylin's account of his visit to the Archbishop
is extremely graphic, and so far characteristic of the
two men ; but, like many other graphic stories, it is
probably more interesting than accurate. It is in
troduced with an allusion to the ' Brevis Disquisitio,'
which appears to have been the foundation of all
^ Cressy's Epist. Apologetical, 1674. ^ Works, i. 76, 77.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 209
subsequent statements connecting Hales's name with
this treatise. It was ascribed to him, it is said, " in
common speech ; " but Heylin does not venture on
his own authority to say that he knew anything of
the authorship. Of Hales himself, he speaks with the
generous admiration with which almost all mention
him. He was a man, he says, " of infinite reading
and no less ingenuity — free of discourse, and as com
municative of his knowledge as the celestial bodies
of their light and influences." (Such a man. It might
have occurred to Heylin, was not likely to " insert
cunningly some of the principal Socinian tenets" in a
discourse really and professedly on another subject.)
The tract on Schism, although not printed at this
time, had passed from hand to hand "in written
copies," and evidently excited much attention both
amongst Hales's friends — who are spoken of as "our
great masters of wit and reason " — and the ecclesias
tical authorities. The tone of it must have been far
from pleasing to Laud. It struck, in fact, at the root of
his' whole system of Church authority. But he could
not, even if he had been disposed, act harshly towards
one who was so intimately associated with Chilling
worth, his own friend — and, moreover, to do him
justice, he seems to have had no disposition to do so.
He hoped rather, as Heylin says, "that he might
gain the man whose abilities he was well acquainted
with when he lived in Oxford." Accordingly he sent
for him to Lambeth, and had a long conference with
him, thus described by his biographer : " About nine
of the clock in the morning, he (Hales) came to know
his Grace's pleasure, who took him along with him
VOL. I. O

2IO JOHN HALES OF ETON :
Ijito his garden, commanding that none of his ser
vants should come at him upon any occasion. There
they continued to discourse till the bell rang to
prayers, and after prayers were ended, till the dinner
was ready, and after that too till the coming in of the
Lord Conway and some other persons of honour put
a necessity upon some of his servants to give him
notice how the time had passed away. So In they
came, high coloured, and almost panting for want of
breath, enough to show that there had been some
heats between them, not then fully cooled. It was
my chance to be there that day, and I found Hales
very glad to see me in that place, as being himself a
mere stranger to it, and unknown to all. He told
me afterwards that he found the Archbishop (whom
he knew before for a nimble disputant) to be as well
versed in books as business ; that he had been
ferreted by him from one hole to another, till there
was none left to afford him any further shelter ; that
he was now resolved to be orthodox, and to declare
himself a true son of the Church of England both for
doctrine and discipline."'-
Such is Heylin's story, and we must judge of Its
credibility according to our knowledge of the persons
concerned.^ Maizeaux is very indignant at its mis-
' Cyprianus Anglicus, or Life Hales, whom, when they had both
and Death of Archbishop Laud, lived in the University of Oxford,
1671. he had known well ; and told him
^ Clarendon's description of the that he had in truth believed him
same visit deserves to be placed to be long since dead ; and chid
beside that of Heylin, and pro- him very kindly for having never
bably gives a more accurate ac- come to him, having been of his
count of what really passed : — old acquaintance : then asked him
"Laud," he says, "sent for Mr whether he had lately written a

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 211
representations, and sets forth at length the grounds
on which he conceives a man like Heylin is not to
be trusted in his account of such a matter. He
was a violent sacerdotalist, and " constant assertor of
the Church's right," like the subject of his biography.
He had also much of the blind confidence and narrow
intensity of spirit characteristic of his class, which
frequently passes with others, and even with them
selves, for spiritual zeal. Of Hales's mode of
thought, and of the real significance of his attitude
on the subject of the Church, he had evidently no
conception. Such men never have of anything which
transcends the bonds of party, or the lines of accus
tomed tradition. It would be almost certain, there
fore — even if we had only his own story — that he
had misinterpreted the natural and complimentary
deference of Hales's remarks into an expression of his
submission to the supreme superiority of the Arch
bishop's arguments. Hales, moreover, was a wit,
and may have delighted in playing with a man like
Heylin, whose mind would not readily catch the
short discourse of Schism, and the most ancient Fathers; and
whether he was of that opinion concluded with saying that the
which that discourse implied. He time was very apt to set new doc-
told him, that he had for the satis- trines on foot, of which the wits of
faction of a private friend (who the age were too susceptible ; and
was not of his mind), a year that there could not be too much
or two before, writ such a small care taken to preserve the peace
tract, without any imagination that and unity of the Church ; and from
it would be communicated ; and thence asked him of his condition,
that he believed it did not contain and whether he wanted anything :
anything that was not agreeable and the other answering that he
to the judgment of the primitive had enough, and wanted or de-
Fathers : upon which the Arch- sired no addition, so dismissed
bishop debated with him upon him with great courtesy.''
some expressions of Irenaeus, and

212 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
subtler aspects of a subject. In reporting what
passed between him and the Primate, he may have put
his own case very much at a disadvantage. There
might seem to him humour as well as humility in re
presenting himself as overcome by his Grace's search
ing logic. He may have even jocularly owned that he
was henceforth resolved to be " orthodox, and a good
son of the Church " — as good as Heylin himself!
But we have happily the means of testing to what
extent Hales submitted or in any degree owned him
self in the wrong on this occasion. After his inter
view he addressed a letter to Laud on the subject
of their conversation, or, as the letter bears, " upon
occasion of the tract concerning Schism," in which
he acknowledges regret that what he had written,
had "given offence," and professes his desire to
repair any mischief that may have arisen from "a
scribbled paper dropt from so worthless and in
considerable a hand as his." The apologetic tone
of this letter is not to be admired. It is altogether
too deprecatory. It would have been much better
if he had stood up manfully for his " abortive dis
course," as he calls it, and not have spoken of any
of its statements as the " issues of unfortunate in
quiry" over which the sponge might be passed. But,
after all, he nowhere recalls any of the principles he
had laid down. There is nothing throughout of the
nature of a recantation suggested by Heylin, and
caught up and repeated affirmatively by subsequent
writers.^ And so far as even his tone is concerned,
^ Hallam agrees strongly that cantation, although we cannot
there is no evidence of Hales's re- say with him that " his letter is

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 213
it Is impossible not to recognise in it something of
that humorous irony which we suppose to have
lain under his conversation with Heylin. He
apologises for the style of his tract as In some
things " over-familiar and subrustic," as sometimes
" more pleasant than needed," and sometimes " more
sour and satirical." But his Grace is to be pleased
to remember what " the liberty of a letter might
entice " him to, and that he was by " genius open
and uncantelous, and therefore some pardon might
be afforded to harmless freedom and gaiety of
spirit." Yet all the while he is conscious of a
higher spirit, and in a noble passage speaks of
the earnestness and single-mindedness with which
he has sought the truth. Like many a man, he
was willing to concede for himself any deference
to existing authority. He would gladly live at
peace ; but he felt at the same time the instinctive
necessity of a true mind only to yield to what he
felt to be the truth. " For the pursuit of truth,"
he says, " hath been my only care, ever since I
first understood the meaning of the word. For
this I have forsaken all hopes, all friends, all desires,
which might bias me, and hinder me from driving
right at what I aimed. For this I have spent my
money, my means, my youth, my age, and all I have,
that I might remove from myself that censure of
TertuUian — Suo vitio quis quid ignorat ? If, with all
full as bold as his treatise on Hales in argument " is ludicrous.
Schism." The story, he adds, is considering the relative abilities
one of Heylin's "many wilful of the two men." — Constit. Hist-
falsehoods;" and the idea of of England, ii. 77. i6th ed.
Laud having the superiority of

214 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
this cost and pains, my purchase Is but error, I may
safely say, to err hath cost me more than It has many
to find the truth : and truth itself shall give me this
testimony at last, that if I have missed of her, it is
not my fault, but my misfortune."
This glimpse of Hales in connection with Laud is
almost the only occasion In which he can be said to
emerge into the light as a Churchman during those
troubled and ominous years which preceded the great
outbreak. His, It must be confessed, was a nature
little fitted for conflict, or for carrying forward, in
the face of opposition, a cause however dear to
him. The idea of ecclesiastical turmoil—" of the
brawls grown from religion "—was hateful to his
whole soul, and on no account would he have added
to them. He had confidence in the quiet growth of
higher thought. He had none, apparently, in party
action or agitation, even for the higher side. From
this time forward, therefore, he may be said to dis
appear from view. It is to be remembered that
even now he was no longer young. At the time of
his interview with Laud he was fifty-four years of
age. In the following year he accepted the only
Church preferment that seems ever to have been
offered to him — a canonry at Windsor ; '^ but he had
hardly entered on his duties when the storm came ;,
and for many years afterwards, as wave after wave
of Revolution broke upon the Church that he loved,
1 According to Clarendon — it ; and he did accept it rather to
who calls the preferment " a pre- please him than himself, because
bendary of Windsor" — the Arch- he really believed he had enough
bishop could not", " without great before."
difficulty, persuade him to accept

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 215
and the college where he had lived so pleasantly
amongst his books, there is hardly any trace of him.
All that is known is, that he was driven from his
offices and his residence in the college, and reduced
to great penury. Yet we may be sure that, in so
reflective and generous a nature, his own straits were
by no means the worst that he endured in those
years. The miseries of his country, and the rapid
loss of all his friends In the wretched struggle, must
have inflicted upon him still deeper pangs. One by
one they perished within a brief period — Suckling in
exile and disgrace — then the " blameless" Falkland —
and lastly, within a few months, Chillingworth. The
times were very hard, and it is somewhat pitiful to
think of the loneliness, as well as the poverty, of the
aged scholar. He had been used to say in his
prosperous days that "he thought he should never
die a martyr," playfully alluding to his lack of
zeal and the comprehensiveness of his theological
opinions ; but he seems to have suffered scarcely
less than the severities of martyrdom. He was
left alone without friends, or nearly so,^ and even
at length without books. " He was soon forced
to dispose of the only thing left which could afford
him some satisfaction In the world — I mean, one of
the best collections of books that a person of his
station ever enjoyed. All that his charity and his
generosity had allowed him to spare, he had con-
^ A kind lady in the neighbour- after his " sequestration." " He
hood of Eton — the Lady Salter — was very welcome to her lady-
is said by Aubrey to have shown ship," says Aubrey, " and spent
him attention in his last years — much of his time there."

2i6 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
Stan tly employed towards the completing of it.^ But
the same charitable and generous temper that had
prevented his acquiring any other estate besides
those books, would not permit him to keep long the
produce that had arisen from the selling of them.
He shared it with several ministers, scholars, and
others, who had been also deprived of their sub
stance, whereby this resource soon failed him. He
might have found it supplied by a gentleman, who
invited him to come to his house, had he not declined
to accept that generous offer. He rather chose to
take upon him the education of a youth who lived
near Eton. But the fury of the ruling party would
not suffer him to continue in that family, so that he
at last retired to Eton, and lodged in the house of a
widow, whose husband had been his servant. In this
obscure retreat he was reduced to extreme want ;
and a celebrated author,"^ continues Maizeaux, " very
justly observes, that ' it is not one of the least igno
minies of that age, that so eminent a person should
have been, by the iniquity of the times, reduced to
those necessities under which he lived.' "
Some few months before his death, his friend, Mr
Farrlndon,^ found him in this retreat. His lodgings
were " mean ; " he had only a few books of devotion
^ Clarendon also mentions his I ever knew, my Lord Falkland
fine collection of books. " A only excepted, who, I think, sided
greater and better collection than him."
was to be found in any other ^ Andrew Marvell.
private library that I have seen — ^ Farindon,orFarringdon, asthe
as he had sure read more, and name issometimeswritten, was one
carried more about him in his of those moderate Episcopalian
excellent memory, than any man divines, and who, though ejected

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 217
in his chamber — the remnant of his magnificent
library; and "for money about seven or eight
shillings ; and besides," said he, " I doubt I am
indebted for my lodging." Yet his temper was
"gravely cheerful," and he was able to offer his
friend some refreshment. " After a slight and very
homely dinner, suitable to the lodgings, some dis
course passed between them concerning their old
friends, and the black and dismal aspect of the
times." At last he asked his friend to walk out
with him to the churchyard, where, after some
communications as to his circumstances, he added,
"When I die — ^which I hope is not far off, for I
am weary of this uncharitable world — I desire you
to see me burled In that place of the churchyard "
(pointing to the place). " But why not in the
church .'' " asked Mr Farrindon, " with the Provost,
Sir Henry Wotton, and the rest of your friends
and predecessors ? " " Because," says he, " I am
neither the founder of it, nor have I been the
benefactor to it, nor shall I ever now be able to be
so, I am satisfied." This is the last glimpse we get
of him. He died at Eton on the 19th of May,
1656, and was burled according to his desire, "in
plain and simple manner without any sermon, or
ringing the bell, or calling the people together."
So he had enjoined in his will, which is a very quaint
and characteristic document.
from his vicarage at the com- minister of St Mary Magdalene,
mencement of the Civil War, Milk Street. He was an admir-
found employment by abstaining able preacher, and held in high
from the use of the formularies esteem.
of the Church. He became

2l8 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
It Is hardly necessary to sum up the features
of Hales's character. We can readily realise from
the whole tenor of his life, as well as of his writings,
the picture suggested by Clarendon of a modest,
sensitive, yet profound and discerning spirit —
hating religious controversy, yet apt and keen In
religious argument when once engaged in it —
honest and open-minded to a fault, yet with a great
power of reserve in him before the unwise and
unreflective — loving peace, yet detesting tyranny —
and severe to himself, while kind and charitable in
all his thoughts of others. "He was a very hard
student to the last," according to Wood,^ "and a great
faster ; and though a person of wonderful know
ledge, yet he was so modest as to be patiently
contented to hear the disputes of persons at table,
and those of small abilities, without interposing or
speaking a word, till desired." " He was," says
another authority,^ " of a nature so kind, so sweet, so
courting all mankind, of an affability so prompt, so
ready to receive all conditions of men, that I con
ceive it near as easy a task for any one to become
so knowing, as so obliging." There is an interest
ing story preserved of his special appreciation of
Shakespeare's genius, which should not be for
gotten. He is reported to have said, in the course
of " those ingenious conversations " which he had
with Sir John Suckling, Ben Jonson, and others,
that if " any topick " was produced, " finely treated
by any of the ancient poets, he would undertake to
^ 3- c. 411. ^ Bishop Pearson.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 219
show something upon the same subject, at least as
well written by Shakespeare." ^
In personal appearance, he Is said by those who
" remembered and were well acquainted " with him,
to have had " the most Ingenious countenance they
ever saw; it was sanguine, cheerful, and full of air." ^
His stature was "small," but "well proportioned, and
his motion quick and nimble." Aubrey, who saw him
at his retired lodging at Eton shortly before his death,
and who may be safely trusted for personal charac
teristics, speaks of him as " a prettie little man, san
guine, of a cheerful countenance, very gentle and cour
teous. I was received by him with much humanity ;
he was in a kind of violet-coloured cloath gowne,
with buttons and loopes (he wore not a black gowne),
and was reading Thomas a Kempis ; it was within
a yeare before he deceased. He loved Canarle ; but
moderately to refresh his spirits. He had a boun
tiful mind." Altogether a pleasant picture of a
large, thoughtful, affable, and devout soul, whom
adversity had not soured, and whose piety blended
with, without absorbing or discolouring, the genial
warmth of his humanity.
II. The acknowledged writings of Hales are con
tained in three small volumes, edited by Lord H alles
(Sir D. Dalrymple), and published at Glasgow about
^ The story is given by Rowe Dramatic Poesie, p. 32 (1693).
in his account of Shakespeare's But neither Rowe nor Dryden
life, and quoted in the notes to mention the authority on which
Maizeaux's Life of Hales, p. 60. he gives the story.
It is also told in a still stronger ^ Wood, 3. c. 413.
form by Dryden in his Essay of

220 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
the middle of the last century by the well-known
printers of the name of Foulls. During his lifetime
he published, or permitted to be published, only one
or two sermons which he had preached at Oxford
and St Paul's Cross, and a sermon on duels which
he had preached at the Hague. The tract on
Schism was also published during his lifetime, ap
parently in an unauthorised form. After his death,
his friend, Mr Farrindon, undertook to prepare a
collection of his writings, and to prefix to it a
memoir ; but in writing to the London bookseller
who had urged him on the subject, he says,^ " I am
like Mr Hales in this, which was one of his defects,
not to pen anything till I must needs." The result
was that he died before he had completed his pre
parations. Dr Pearson, the well-known Bishop of
Chester, so far took up his unfinished task, and the
" Golden Remains of the Ever-Memorable Mr John
Hales of Eton College," &c., appeared in 1659,
but without any memoir. The Bishop prefixed,
however, an Epistle to the Reader, in which he
drew a careful character of the author, from which
we have already quoted. Nothing can exceed the
enthusiastic admiration of this well-known and
highly orthodox divine for Hales's genius, learning,
and theological capacity. He was a man, he thinks,
" of as great a sharpness, quickness, and subtility
of wit, as ever this or perhaps any nation bred."
And " as a Christian," none was " ever more
acquainted with the nature of the Gospel, because
none more studious of the knowledge of it, or more
' Maizeaux, p. 69,

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 221
curious in the search." ^ Second and third editions
of the " Remains " appeared in 1673 and 1688, and
also in 1677 a new volume containing several
additional tracts without preface or advertisement.
In Lord Hailes's edition, which professes to be com
plete, all these writings are collected and presented
in a uniform shape, prefaced by various "Testi
monies " concerning the author.
The value of Hales's writings consists not In any
elaborate treatment of theological questions, but in
the singular spirit of enlightenment, and calm, pene
trating, comprehensive wisdom which pervade them.
They contain no special treatise to which subsequent
ages have appealed as a model of theological exposi
tion or argument. They are only tracts, sermons, or
letters ; and the sermons are neither rich with the
jewelled eloquence of a Jeremy Taylor, nor weighty
with the solid reasoning and systematic power of a
Barrow. But there is in all our author's writings
exactly that which so many theological writings want,
the light of a bright, open-eyed, candid intelligence,
which sees frequently far beyond the range of the
most powerful systematic intellect straight to the
^ The following additional reading was his meditation, which
sentences from Bishop Pearson's furnished him with a judgment
" elogium " on Hales — to which beyond the vulgar reach of man,
allusions will be found in the built upon unordinary notions,
text — may be quoted : — raised out of strange observa-
" His industry did strive, if it tions, and comprehensive thoughts
were possible, to equal the large- within himself. So that he really
ness of his capacity, whereby he was a most prodigious example of
became as great a master of an acute and piercing wit, of a
polite, various, and universal vast and illimited knowledge, of
learning, as ever yet conversed a severe and profound judg-
with books. Proportionate to his ment."

222 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
truth — " an acute and piercing wit," a wise, calm,
and "profound judgment." A great reader and
student, versed In a various and even (according
to Bishop Pearson) a " universal" erudition, he is
yet entirely free from the pedantry of learning, a
rare attainment for his age. His accumulated know
ledge of books and systems never encumbers him.
He never, or rarely, uses it as materials of exposi
tion, or stuff for dilating and parading arguments
in themselves worthless, after the prevailing fashion.
But all his knowledge has become an enriching basis
of his own thought, and raises him above " the vulgar
reach of man" to see for himself clearly and widely.
It has entered Into the very life of his quick and
genial intellect, and contributes to the wealth of his
meditative Insight, and his tolerant, comprehensive,
and sweetly-tempered genius. The simplicity and
breadth of his religious thought are astonishing for
his time. He goes to the heart of controversies, and
distinguishes with a delicate and summary skill the
essential from the accidental in religion as in other
things. Hales's works may be said to be of two classes —
miscellaneous tracts and pieces, such as mostly fill
the first of the three volumes to which we have ad
verted ; and sermons, which compose the greater part
of the two remaining volumes. About the half of
the third volume is occupied by his " Letters from
the Synod of Dort." These letters, of course, with
the exception of his " Oratio Funebris" on the
founder of the Bodleian Library, are the earliest of
all his writings. As to the others, it Is Impossible to

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 223
fix their relative chronological position. We have
already given our reasons for believing that the most
significant of his undated tracts — that on the Lord's
Supper — belongs to about the same period as his
tract on Schism ; and most of his sermons probably
belong to the same or a still earlier period, although
not collected, nor with a single exception ' published,
till long afterwards. There is no evidence of his
writing anything after the commencement of the
troubles in which he and his friends were so directly
involved ; and no trace in the volumes of allusion to
subsequent events, or the special controversies which
they called forth.
It is impossible, therefore, and unnecessary, to at
tempt any further arrangement of his writings. His
favourite Ideas are scattered here and there through
them all^now simplified and popularly illustrated in
a sermon, and now urged with more brevity, sharp
ness, and incision in a tract. We shall accordingly
draw our quotations from them as may suit our
purpose, and endeavour to present his ideas under
some sequence of thought or subject rather than in
any order of growth or time.
I. The, first aspect of his teaching which deserves
attention is his clear exposition of the principle
more or less underlying all his thought — that theo
logical or dogmatic differences are not really reli
gious differences, and should not break the unity
of common faith and worship. All theological
opinion implies certain human additions to the reli-
^ The Sermon " Of Duels," which he preached while resident at the
Hague.

224 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
gious element — certain " conceits of men," which
in their very nature provoke and admit of diversity
of criticism ; but this diversity is no ground of reli
gious separation. There is no reason why men of
very differing opinions in such matters should not
worship together. The " liberty of judging," which
Hales took to himself, he not only extended to all,
but he felt that such liberty was an Inherent Chris
tian right, which it was the business of the Church
not only to tolerate, but, so to speak, to educate and
find room for. It was not difference of opinion which
the Church had to fear, but the hardness and per
versity of will which turned such difference Into a
cause of unchristian estrangement. Truth and error
were, after all, each man's own responsibility, and
even those who fell into error might be nearer the
truth in spirit than those who professed to hold it.
" He thought," says Clarendon, " that other men were
more in fault for their carriage towards them than the
men themselves were who erred ; and he thought that
pride and passion, more than conscience, were the
cause of all separation from each other's communion,
and he frequently said that that only kept the world
from agreeing upon such a liturgy as might bring
them into one communion." This is the key-note of
a great deal of his writing.
" It is not the variety of opinions," he says in one
of his sermons, " but our own perverse wills, who
think it meet that all should be conceited as our
selves are, which hath so inconvenienced the Church.
Were we not so ready to anathematise each other,
where we concur not In opinion, we might in hearts

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 225
be united, thoiigh in our tongues we were divided,
and that with singular profit to all sides. It is ' the
unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace' (Eph. iv.
3), and not identity of conceit, which the Holy Ghost
requires at the hands of Christians."^
Then he gives an instance in which there is plainly
a reminiscence of the Synod of Dort. " I will give
you one instance, in which, at this day, our churches
are at variance ; the will of God, and His manner of
proceeding in predestination, is undiscernible, and
shall so remain until that day wherein all knowledge
shall be made perfect; yet some there are, who, with
probability of Scripture, teach that the true cause
of the final miscarriage of them that perish is that
original corruption that befel them at the beginning,
increased through the neglect or refusal of grace
offered. Others, with no less favourable counte
nance of Scripture, make the cause of reprobation
only the will of God, determining freely of His own
work as Himself pleases, without respect to any
second cause whatsoever. Were we not ambitiously
minded, every one to be lord of a sect, each of these
tenets might be profitably taught and heard, and
matter of singular exhortation drawn from either ;
for on the one part, doubtless It is a pious and reli
gious intent, to endeavour to free God from all im
putation of unnecessary rigour, and His justice from
seeming injustice and incongruity : and on the other
side, it is a noble resolution so to humble ourselves
under the hand of Almighty God, as that we can
with patience hear, yea, think it an honour that

^ ii-,94-

VOL. I.

226 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
so base creatures as ourselves should become the
instruments of the glory of so great a majesty,
whether it be by eternal life or by eternal death,
though for no other reason but for God's good will
and pleasure's sake. The authors of these conceits
might both freely (if peaceably) speak their minds,
and both singularly profit the Church : for since It Is
Impossible, where Scripture is ambiguous, that all
conceits should run alike, it remains that we seek
out a way not so much to establish an unity of
opinion in the minds of all, which I take to be a
thing likewise Impossible, as to provide that multi
plicity of conceit trouble not the Church's peace. A
better, way my conceit cannot reach unto than that
we would be willing to think that these things,
which with some show of probability we deduce from
Scripture, are at the best but our opinions, for this
peremptory manner of setting down our own conclu
sions, under this high commanding form of necessary
truths. Is generally one of the greatest causes which
keeps the Churches this day so far asunder ; when as
a gracious receiving of each other by mutual for
bearance in this kind might peradventure, in time,
bring them nearer together."^
This mode of thought is now sufficiently familiar.
But it was far from familiar in Hales's time, and it
may be inferred from his letters that It had only
gradually grown up in his mind as the fruit of much
reflection and experience of religious controversy.
His spiritual insight, his sense, moderation, and
candid deference to facts, had borne him out of the
^ ii- 94. 95-

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 227
current of religious partisanship, and opened up to
him a higher vision than was common to his con
temporaries. His mind was evidently In continual
quest of truth. He did not take up his opinions
and then no more trouble himself to examine them.
He was continually going deeper in search of prin
ciples, and mastering them with a clearer sight, so
as to recognise their true meaning and bearing, and
the modifications which they undergo. A healthy
modesty, and constantly penetrating and subtle deli
cacy in consequence, mark his conclusions. He is
reverential in the highest sense, and yet keenly
original. He is reserved, and yet he speaks out his
mind in the face of what he must have known to be
cherished prejudices.
There Is a highly important passage from the tract
on Schism on the same subject. " Ithath been the com
mon disease of Christians from the beginning not to
content themselves with that measure of faith which
God and the Scripture have expressly afforded us ; but,
out of a vain desire to know more than is revealed,
they have attempted to discuss things of which we
can have no light, neither from reason nor revela
tion ; neither have they rested here, but upon pre
tence of Church authority, which is none, or tradition,
which for the most part is but figment, they have per
emptorily concluded and confidently imposed upon
others a necessity of entertaining conclusions of that
nature, and to strengthen themselves, have broken
out into divisions and factions, opposing man to man,
synod to synod, till the peace of the Church van
ished, without all possibility of recall. Hence arose

228 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
those antient and many separations amongst Chris
tians occasioned by Arianism, Eutychianism, Nestor-
ianism, Photinianism, Sabellianism, and many more,
both antient and In our time, all which indeed are
but names of schism, howsoever In the common
language of the Fathers they were called heresies.
For heresy Is an act of the will, not of reason, and
is indeed a lie, not a mistake, else how could that
known speech of Austin go for true, Errare possum,
hceretictts esse nolo ? Indeed, Manicheism, Valentin-
lanlsm, Marcionism, Mahometanism, are truly and
properly heresies ; for we know that the authors of
them received them not, but minted them them
selves, and so knew that which they taught to be
a lie. But can any man avouch that Arius and
Nestorius, and others that taught erroneously con
cerning the Trinity, or the person of our Saviour,
did maliciously invent what they taught, and not
rather fall upon it by error and mistake .'* Till that
be done, and that upon good evidence, we will think
no worse of all parties than needs we must, and take
these rents in the Church to be at the worst but
schisms upon matter of opinion. In which case
what we are to do is not a point of any great depth
of understanding to discover, so be distemper and
partiality do not intervene. I do not yet see that
opinionum varietas, et opinantium, unitas, are dcrvcr-
Tttxa, or that men of different opinions in Christian
religion may not hold communion in sacris, and both
go to one church. Why may not I go, if occasion
require, to an Arian church, so there be no Arianism
expressed in their liturgy ? And were liturgies and

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 229
public forms of service so framed as that they
admitted not of particular and private fancies, but
contained only such things as in which all Christians
do agree, schisms on opinion were utterly vanished.
For consider of all the liturgies that are or ever
have been, and remove from them whatsoever is
scandalous to any party, and leave nothing but what
all agree on, and the event shall be, that the public
service and honour of God shall no ways suffer ;
whereas to load our public forms with the private
fancies upon which we differ is the most sovereign
way to perpetuate schism unto the world's end.
Prayer, confession, thanksgiving, reading of Scrip
ture, exposition of Scripture, administration of sac
raments In the plainest and simplest manner, were
matter enough to furnish out a sufficient liturgy,
though nothing either of private opinion, or of
church pomp, of garments, of prescribed gestures, of
imagery, of music, of matter concerning the dead,
of many superfluities, which creep Into the churches
under the name of order and decency, did inter
pose itself For to charge churches and liturgies
with things unnecessary was the first beginning of
all superstition, and when scruples of conscience
began to be made or pretended, then schisms began
to break in. If the spiritual guides and fathers of
the Church would be a little sparing of incumbering
churches with superfluities, and not over rigid, either
In reviving obsolete customs or imposing new, there
were far less danger of schism or superstition, and
all the inconvenience were likely to ensue would be
but this, they should in so doing yield a little to the

230 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
Imbeclllltles of inferiors, a thing which St Paul would
never have refused to do. Meanwhile, wheresoever
false or suspected opinions are made a piece of the
church liturgy, he that separates is not the schis
matic, for it is alike unlawful to make profession of
known or suspected falsehoods, as to put in practice
unlawful or suspected actions."^
2. The great practical question of Church author
ity here suggested, is the next under which we may
sum up Hales's views. He thus briefly speaks
of bishops and their due position. " They do but
abuse themselves and others that would persuade us
that bishops by Christ's Institution have any superi
ority over other men further than of reverence, or
that any bishop Is superior to another further than
positive order as agreed upon amongst Christians
hath prescribed. For we have believed them that
hath told us ' That in Jesus Christ there Is neither high
nor low, and that in giving honour every man should
be ready to prefer another before himself (Rom. xii.
io); which saying cuts off all claim most certainly to
superiority by title of Christianity, except men can
think that these things were spoken only to poor
and private persons. Nature and religion agree In
that neither of them hath a hand in this heraldry of
secundum sub et supra ; all this combes from, composi
tion and agreement of m,en among themselves!"^
This and the preceding passage are amongst the
most decisive in the famous tract on Schism, which
only extends in all to twenty ordinary pages. It is
somewhat astonishing to reflect now how much noise
this tract made, not only when first written and circu-
1 i. 125, 128. ' i. 131,

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 23 1
lated amongst Hales's friends, but afterwards when
republished amongst his ' Golden Remains ' on the
eve ofthe Restoration. The "pen-combat" betwixt
Andrew Marvell, and Parker, Bishop of Oxford, on the
subject, was only one of several manifestations of the
interest which it excited at this later period, and the
significance attached to its utterances. Stillingfleet
quotes It at length,^ and with high appreciation, in his
'Irenicum;' and as late as 1678, a prebendary of
Exeter, Thomas Long, B.D., published an elaborate
examination and censure of it. Its very brevity, and
the light felicity and sense with which it touched
a thorny subject, contributed to its circulation and
influence. The opening sentences very well re
present these characteristics of the writer : " Her
esy and schism, as they are in common use, are
two theological Mo/j/aw?, or scarecrows, which they
who uphold a party in religion use to fright away
such as, making inquiry Into it, are ready to relin
quish and oppose it if it appear either erroneous
or suspicious. For as Plutarch reports of a painter
who, having unskilfully painted a cock, chased
away all cocks and hens, that so the imperfection of
his art might not appear by comparison with nature ;
so men willing for ends to admit of no fancy but
their own, endeavour to hinder an inquiry into it by
way of comparison of somewhat with it, peradven
ture truer, that so the deformity of their own mights
not appear."
He defines schism as "an unnecessary separa
tion of Christians from that part of the visible
Church of which they were once members." It is
^ See following page.

232 JOHN HALES OF ETON:
" ecclesiastical sedition," or a wilful and open violence
against " that communion which is the strength and
good of all society, sacred and civil." Yet, " the
great benefit of communion notwithstanding," there
are occasions on which " consent were conspiracy,
and open contestation is not fraction or schism, but
due Christian animosity." And these occasions are
" when either false or uncertain conclusions are ob
truded for truth, and acts either unlawful or minis
tering just scruple are required to be performed."
While therefore, speaking generally, It is a crime
hardly pardonable " to break the knot of union "
amongst Christians, yet In speaking of schisms in
particular, many things are to be considered, and the
judgments of antiquity by no means to be accepted
without hesitation. There may be a schism where
the real schismatic is not he that separates, but he
that causes the separation ; and again, there may be
a schism where both parties are the schismatics.
He then explains, with some detail, that all
schisms have crept Into the Church by one of three
ways, — " either upon matter of fact, or matter of
opinion, or point of ambition." He takes, in illus
tration of the first mode of schism, the question of
Easter as controverted in the early Church. " This
matter," he says, " though most unnecessary, most
vain, yet caused as great a combustion as ever was
in the Church ; the West separating and refusing
communion with the East for many years together.
In this fantastical hurry, I cannot see but all the
world were schismatics ; neither can anything, excuse
them from that imputation, excepting only this, that

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 233,
we charitably suppose that all parties out of con
science did what they did." ^ In the Donatist schism,
on the other hand, the blame is found to lie on one
side. The Donatists were plainly the schismatics.
Yet he sees no reason why either of these questions
should have broken the unity of the Church. " For
why might it not be lawful to go to Church with the
Donatist, or to celebrate Easter with the Quartodecl-
man, if occasion so require ? since neither nature, nor
religion, nor reason doth suggest anything to the con
trary : for in all public meetings pretending holiness,
so there be nothing done but what true devotion and
piety brook, why may not I be present in them, and
use communication with them ? " ^
The two further grounds of schism — variety of
opinion, and Episcopal ambition — he expounds with
special interest ; but we have already quoted the
main passages of this exposition. From the general,
purport and tone of the tract, It seems hardly
possible to avoid the conclusion that Hales had
in view the state of the Church of England at the
time he was writing, and that he condemned by
implication the arbitrary exercise of ecclesiastical
authority then so prevalent. In so far, therefore, as
he yielded to the personal influence of Laud, or
turned aside the obvious application of the great
truths laid down by him, he must be accused of
timidity. To some extent, no doubt, he merits the
accusation. The apologetic tone of his letter on the
occasion has been already condemned. Yet it is only
fair to him to show that, notwithstanding all the

^34 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
deference of his personal attitude, and his lack of
courage, he did not in any respect compromise his
principles. While having no wish for himself to
dispute the fact of ecclesiastical authority, he still
claimed to have his own opinion as to the origin of
this authority, and only to yield to It in so far as his
conscience and reason dictated. His language plainly
enough implies that he did not abandon his position
as to the natural source of ecclesiastical power,
although he did not choose to urge it further. " Let
titles of honour and dominion go as the providence
of God will have, yet quiet and peaceable men will
not fail of their obedience : no more will I of ought, so
be that God and good conscience command not the
contrary. A higher degree of duty I do not see how
any man can demand at my hands : for whereas the
exception of good conscience sounds not well with
many men, because ofttimes, under that form, per
tinacity and wilfulness is suspected to couch itself ;
in this case it concerns every man sincerely to know
the truth of his own heart, and so accordingly to de
termine of his own way, whatever the jiidgment of
his superiors be, or whatsoever event befal him,. For
since in case of conscience, many times there is
a necessity to fall either into the hands of men or
into the hands of God ; of these two whether is the
best, I leave every particular man to judge : only I
will add thus much, it is a fearful thing to trifle with
conscience ; for most assuredly, according unto it, a
man shall stand or fall at the last." ^
3. His rational attitude and clear sober-minded-
' i. 142.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 235
ness are especially marked in the two tracts on
the " Lord's Supper " and on the " Power of the
Keys." In both he goes very plainly and directly
at his point. The first has been already charac
terised as one of the most significant of Hales's
writings. It is so in its treatment of the sacra
ment of the Supper, but particularly in what it
says of the relation of general councils or as
semblies to Christian dogma, or the settlement of
Christian truth. The full title of the tract is, " On
the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and concerning
the Church's mistaking itself about Fundamentals."
Hales controverts equally the Romanist and cur
rent Protestant view of the Lord's Supper. The
latter no less than the former appears to him to
imply that the words of consecration are " not a
mere trope," but really add something to the
nature of the rite. In his view, the words are
entirely figurative, and the rite complete without
them. In Instituting the holy ceremony, our Lord
commands us to do what he did, but " leaves us no
precept of saying any words. Neither," he adds,
"will it be made appear that either the blessed
apostles or primitive Christians had any such cus
tom ; nay, the contrary will be made probably to
appear, out of some of the anclentest writings of the
Church's ceremonials. Our Saviour indeed used the
words, but it was to express what his meaning was.
Had He barely acted the thing, without expressing
Himself by some such form of words, we could never
have known what it was He did, But what neces
sity is there now of so doing ? for when the congre-

236 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
gation is met together, to the breaking of bread and
prayer, and see bread and wine upon the communion
table, is there any man can doubt of the meaning of
it, although the canon be not read ? It was the
further solemnising and beautifying that holy action
which brought the canon in, and not an opinion of
adding anything to the substance of the action. For
that the words were used by our Saviour to work
anything upon the bread and wine, can never out of
Scripture or reason be deduced ; and beyond these
two, I have no ground for my religion, neither in sub
stance nor in ceremony." ^ St Ambrose seems to be
responsible for the prevalent mistake. It was he who
said — and posterity have too generally applauded the
maxim : Accedat verbum ad elementum, et fiat sacra
mentum,. But this Is " an unsound, ungrounded con
clusion," and implies the false persuasion that "to
make up a sacrament, there must be something said
and something done ; whereas, indeed, to the perfec
tion of a sacrament, it is sufficient that one thing be
done whereby another is signified, though nothing
be said at all."
The Genevan vlew^ of receiving in the Supper
the body and blood of Christ — " not after a
carnal but after a spiritual manner " — finds no
favour in his eyes. To speak in any real sense of
the flesh of Christ in connection with the bread
appears to him as unmeaning as the Roman Catholic
phraseology as to the blood of Christ being sacrificed
^ •• S3> 54- who " have spread it over the
^ This view owes its authority, face of the Reformed Churches,"
he thinks, to Calvin and Beza, i. 60.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 237
and shed in the sacrament^ — but only incruente —
"unbloodily." According to him, there is nothing
whatever given In the communion "but bread and
wine." " Jesus Christ is eaten at the communion
table in no sense — neither spiritually, by virtue of
anything done there, nor really ; neither metaphori
cally, nor literally. Indeed that which is eaten (I
mean the bread) is called Christ by a metaphor ; but
it is eaten truly and properly." And in this sense,
" the spiritual eating of Christ is," as he says, " com
mon to all places as well as the Lord's table."
Finally, he adds : "The uses and ends of the
Lord's Supper can be no more than such as are
mentioned In the Scriptures, and they are but two :
(i.) The commemoration ofthe death and passion of
the Son of God, specified by Himself at the institu
tion of the ceremony ; (2.) To testify our union with
Christ, and communion one with another — which end
St Paul hath taught us. In these few conclusions
the whole doctrine and use of the Lord's Supper is
fully set down, and whoso leadeth you beyond this
doth but abuse you : Quicquid ultra quceritur, non
intelligitur." ¦*¦
Passing to the further question — Whether the
Church may err In Fundamentals ? — he concludes,
first, " that every Christian may err that will."
Otherwise there could be no heresy — " heresy being
nothing else but wilful error." But admitting this,
his supposed questioner still asks — Can Christians
err by whole shoals, by armies meeting for defence
of the truth in synods and councils, especially
^ i. 62, 63.

238 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
general ? " He answers emphatically, some may
suppose brusquely, — " To say that councils may
not err, though private persons may, at first sight is
a merry speech ; as If a man should say, that every
single soldier indeed may run away, but a whole
army cannot, especially having Hannibal for their
captain. And since it is confessed that all single
persons not only may but do err, it will prove a very
hard matter to gather out of these a multitude, of
whom being gathered together, we may be secured
they cannot err. I must for mine own part confess,
that councils and synods not only may and have
erred, but considering the means how they are
managed, it- were a great marvel if they did not
err; for what men are they of whom those great
meetings do consist ? Are they the best, the most
learned, the most virtuous, the most likely to walk
uprightly ? No, the greatest, the most ambitious,
and many times men neither of judgment nor learn
ing ; such are they of whom these bodies do consist.
And are these men in common equity likely to
determine for truth ? Sicut in vita, ita in causis
quoque spes inprobas habent, as Quintilian speaks.
Again, when such persons are thus met, their way
to proceed to conclusion is not by weight of reason,
but by multitude of votes and suffrages, as if it were
a maxim in nature that the greater part must needs
be the better ; whereas our common experience
shows that Nunquam ita bene agitur cum rebus
humanis, ut plures sint meliores. It was never
heard in any profession that conclusion of truth
went by plurality of voices, the Christian profession

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 239

only excepted ; and I have often mused how it comes
to pass that the way which in all other sciences is
not able to warrant the poorest conclusion, should be
thought sufficient to give authority to conclusions in
divinity, the supreme empress of sciences." '•
This is one of the passages quoted by Hallam to il
lustrate his allegation that Hales's language Is "rough
and audacious, and that his theology has sometimes
a scent of Racow." ^ From the charge of Socinian
ism, we have already sufficiently vindicated our
author ; and Hallam's theological perceptions. If oc
casionally acute and subtile, are too deficient in pene
tration and compass to make it at all necessary to
renew the subject. What appears to him " scent of
Racow," is merely the strong odour of common-sense
and reason. With his usual instinct this historical
critic shrinks from directness and earnestness of
speech, and his cold, bald refinement takes offence at
the plainness of Hales, as at the warmth and natural
robustness of Luther. A rhetorical sword-master
like Bossuet is his model of a divine. But a touch of
nature, we confess, even if it be somewhat rough, is of
more value than any degree of mere external polish,
even in a theologian. The passage which provokes
his criticism in the present case is a forcible, but by
no means too forcible, statement of an important truth.
For surely there are few things more extraordinary
than the prevalent confidence of all Churches, Pro
testant as well as Catholic, in the formal decisions of
general councils or assemblies. Is it not astonishing
that such decisions, attained by mere plurality of votes,
i. 65, 66. " Int. to Lit. of Europe, ii. 425.

240 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
should be supposed to impart a special stamp of autho
rity, a sort of sacredness, to spiritual truth ? The surr
vival of such a confidence in the face of the facts of
human history, and the common experience of the mo
tives which more or less rule all such assemblies, show
how strong are the roots of reverence in the human
mind. And the delusion Is all the more remarkable
that it seems to rest for Its only justification on a still
deeper delusion as to such assemblies being speci
ally under the guidance of the divine Spirit. " It is
given out," as Hales says, " that Christian meetings
have such an assistance of God and His blessed Spirit,
and let their persons be what they wIU, they may
assure themselves against all possibility of mistak
ing." ..." I should doubtless," he continues, " do
great injury to the goodness of God, if I should deny
the sufficient assistance of God to the whole world,
to preserve them both from sin in their actions and
damnable errors in their opinions ; much more should
I do it if I denied it to the Church of God ; but this
assistance of God may very well be, and yet men
may fall into sin and errors. Christ hath promised
His perpetual assistance to His Church ; but hath He
left any prophecy that the Church should perpetually
adhere to Him ? If any man think that He hath, it
is his part to inform us where this prophecy is to be
found. That matters may go well with men, two
things must concur — the assistance of God to men,
and the adherence of men to God : if either of these
be deficient, there will be little good done. Now
the first of these is never deficient, but the second is
very, often : so that the promise of Christ's perpetual

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 241
presence made unto the Church infers not at all any
presumption of Infallibility." ^
In order to show this more fully, he analyses the
term " spirit," " which is so much taken up " in such
cases, and shows how it must signify either " a secret
elapse or supernatural Influence of God upon the
hearts of men, ... or that in us which is opposed
against the flesh, and which denominates us spiritual
men. . . . Now of these two," he concludes, "the
former it Is which the Church seems to appeal unto,
in determining controversies by way of council. But
to this I have little to say: (i.) Because I know not
whether there be any such thing, yea or no. (2.)
Because experience shows that the pretence of the
Spirit in this sense is very dangerous, as being next
at hand to give countenance to imposture and abuse,
which is a thing sufficiently seen and acknowledged
both by the Papist and Protestant party ; as it ap
pears by this, that though both pretend unto it, yet
both upbraid each other with the pretence of it But
the Spirit, in the second sense, is that I contend for ;
and this is nothing but reason illuminated by revela
tion out of the written word. For when the mind
and spirit humbly conform and submit to the written
will of God, then you are properly said to have the
Spirit of God, and to walk according to the Spirit,
not according to the flesh. This alone is that Spirit
which preserves us from straying from the truth :
for he indeed that hath the Spirit, errs not at all ; or
if he do, it Is with as little hazard and danger as
may be, which Is the highest point of infallibility
' i. 67, 68.
VOL. I. Q

242 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
which either private persons or churches can arrive
to."i The brief " Essay concerning the Power of the
Keys" Is also highly characteristic. It is a clear,
sharp, sensible treatment of a subject which hundreds
of pens have obscured rather than illuminated. A
single passage will sufficiently show this, and indicate
its line of interpretation. The " Power of the Keys "
is simply the privilege of declaring or opening the
message of divine love to mankind. It has no relation
to any priestly or judicial function in the Christian
ministry. And all who themselves have received
the divine message, or to whom the kingdom of
heaven has been opened, have equally with the clergy
the keys of this kingdom committed to them. " Every
one, of what state or condition soever, that hath any
occasion offered him to serve another in the ways of
life, clergy or lay, male or female, whatever he be,
hath these keys, not only for himself, but for the
benefit of others : ... to save a soul, every man Is a
priest. To whom, I pray you, is that said in Levit
icus, ' Thou shalt not see thy brother sin, but thou
shalt reprove, and save thy brother ' ? And if the
law binds a man, when he saw his enemy's cattle to
stray, to put them into their way ; how much more
doth it oblige him to do the like for the man himself?
See you not how the whole world conspires with me
in the same opinion ? Doth not every father teach
his son, every master his servant, every man his
friend ? How many of the laity in this age, and from
time to time in all ages, have, by writing for the public
' i. 69, 70.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 243
good, propagated the Gospel of Christ, as If some
secret instinct of nature had put into men's minds
thus to do. You conceive that forthwith upon this
which I have said must needs follow some great con
fusion of estates and degrees ; the laity will straight
way get up Into our pulpits, we shall lose our credit,
and the adoration which the simple sort do yield us
is in danger to be lost. Sir, fear you not, the suffi
cient and able of the clergy will reap no discounte
nance, but honour by this ; for he that knows how
to do well himself, will most willingly approve what
is well done by another. It is extreme poverty of
mind to ground your reputation upon another man's
Ignorance, and to secure yourself, you do well, be
cause you perceive perchance that none can judge
how ill you do. Be not angry then to see others
join with you in part of your charge. ' I would all
the Lord's people did preach,' and that every man
did think himself bound to discharge a part of the
common good, and make account that the care of
other men's souls concerned him as well as of his
own. 4. Hales Is not only always rational in spirit —
he has a very definite system of thought. He sees
clearly the drift of his principles, and is satisfied that
the ground on which he stands is the only satisfac
tory ground of religious conviction. The following
extracts from a very significant sermon "Of Enquiry
and Private Judgment in Religion," will set his
rational theory of Christianity, in Its systematic rela
tions, fully before the reader. The central question
with him, as with Falkland, is Infallibility. He

244 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
describes the craving of men after it, and shows
them where alone it is to be found — with them
selves and with God. " An infallibility there must
be ; but men have marvellously wearied themselves
in seeking to find where it Is. Some have
sought It in general councils, and have conceived
that if It be not there to be found, it is for certainty
fled out of the world. Some have tied it to the
Church of Rome and to the bishop of that see.
Every man finds it, or thinks he finds it, accordingly
as that faction or part of the Church upon which he
is fallen doth direct him. Thus, like the men of
Sodom before Lot's door, men have wearied them
selves, and have gone far and near to find out that
which is hard at hand. We see many times a kind
of ridiculous and jocular forgetfulness of many men,
seeking for that which they have in their hands ; so
fares it here with men who seek for infallibility in
others which either is, or ought to be, in themselves :
as Saul sought his father's asses, whilst they were
now at home ; or as GEdipus in the tragedy sent to
the oracle to inquire the cause of the plague in
Thebes, whereas himself was the man. For infalli
bility is not a favour impropriated to any one man ;
it is a duty alike expected at the hands of all — all
must have it. St Paul when he gives this precept
(Gal. vi. 7) directs it not to councils, to bishops, to
teachers and preachers, but to all of the Galatian
Churches, and in them to all of all the Churches in
the world. Unto you, therefore, and to every one,
of what sex, of what rank or degree and place soever,
from him that studies in his library to him that sweats

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 245
at the plough, belongs that precept of St Paul, ' Be
not deceived.' . . But if any man should reply
upon our blessed apostle, and tell him, ' Am I like
God that I should look not to be deceived ? ' — this
cannot excuse him ; for behold, as if he had purposely
meant to have taken this objection away, the apostle
joins together both God and us, and tells us, as God
cannot, so we must not, be deceived." ^
He amplifies the subject In a decisive manner, well
conscious of the novelty of his views. A man must
know, he argues, not only what he has to believe,
but why he is to believe. " I comprise it all in two
words, what and wherefore. They that come and
tell you what you are to believe, what you are to do,
and tell you not why, they are not physicians, but
leeches; and if you so take things at their hands, you
are not like men but like beasts. I know that is
something an hard doctrine for the many to bear,
neither is it usually taught by the common teachers.
But it is, nevertheless, true, that every man must
bear his own burden, and this burden consists not
merely in the substance of what we believe, but the
reasons why we believe. That part of your burden
which contains what, you willingly take up ; but that
other which comprehends why, that is either too hot
or too heavy, you dare not meddle with it ; but I
must add that also to your burden, or else I must
leave you for idle persons ; for without the know
ledge of why, of the true grounds or reasons of things,
there is no possibility of not being deceived. Your
teachers and instructors, whom you follow, they may
Mil. 149, 150.

246 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
be wise and learned, yet may they be deceived ; but
suppose they be not deceived, yet if you know not
so much, you are not yet excused. Something there
is which makes those men not to be deceived ; If you
will be sure not to be deceived, then know you that
as well as they. Is it divine authority ? you must
know that as well as they. Is it strength of reason ?
you must know it as well as they. You can never
know that you are not deceived until you know the
grounds and reasons upon which you stand ; for there
is no other means not to be deceived, but to know
things yourselves. — I will put on this doctrine further,
and convince you by your own reason. It is a ques
tion made by John Gerson, sometime Chancellor of
Paris : ' Wherefore hath God given me the light of
reason and conscience, if I must suffer myself to be
led and governed by the reason and conscience of
another man ? ' Will any of you befriend me so far
as to assail this question ? for I must confess I can
not. It was the speech of a good husbandman, ' It
Is but a folly to possess a piece of ground, except you
till it.' And how then can it stand with reason, that
a man should be possessed of so goodly a piece of
the Lord's pasture as is this light of understanding
and reason, which He hath endowed us with in the
day of our creation, if he suffer it to lie untilled or
sow not in it the Lord's seed ? " ^
He then Inquires into reasons why " men are so
generally willing in points of religion to cast them
selves into other men's arms, and leaving their own
reason to relie so much upon another man's." He
^ iii. 152, 153.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 247
finds tlie explanation partly in the natural sloth of
men, who " are well content to take their ease and
call their sloth ' modesty,' and their neglect of in
quiry ' filial obedience ; ' partly in the fault of the
ministry, who are afraid to advise men ' to search
into the reasons and grounds of religion,' In case it
' breed trouble and disquiet,' — in this manner acting
as the Sybarites, who, ' to procure their ease, banished
the smiths because their trade was full of noise ; ' "
but also in the fact that " the dregs of the Church of
Rome are not sufficiently washed from the hearts of
many men." He feels that the Protestantism around
him of the " common teachers " is but a poor and
imperfect Protestantism, which does not reach to
" the uttermost grounds " on which religious know
ledge, like all other knowledge, must rest. There
Is no other way than going to the root of the divinely-
planted reason and conscience in each of us. " David
found this by his own experience. ' I am wiser than
my teachers,' said he, in his Psalm cxix. v. 99. Why ?
because he believed them ? this would never have
made him so wise, much less wiser ; — why then ?
' For thy testimonies,' saith he, ' are my studies.'
Therefore is he wiser than his teachers, because that,
knowing all that they could teach him, he stayed not
there, but by his own search and study he arrives
at a degree of knowledge beyond his masters. St
Basil, in his sermons upon some of the psalms, taxes
a sort of men who thought it a sin to know more of
God than the traditions of their fathers would give
them leave ; and would not advance or improve the
knowledge of the truth by any faculty or industry of

248 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
their own. Beloved, there is not a more immediate
way to fall into the reproof of St Basil, and to hin
der all advancement and growth of Christian know
ledge amongst the common sort of men, than this
easy and slothful resolution to rest themselves on
others' wits." ^
Having thus vindicated personal inquiry and indi
vidual thoughtfulness as the basis of all true religion,
he considers, in conclusion, the various substitutes on
which men repose when they put off the care of their
faith and religion from themselves on other men ;
and condemns them in succession.
" I will show it you by the particular examination of
every one of these ; which I will the willinger do,
because I see these are the common hackney reasons
which most men use In flattering themselves in their
mistakes ; for all this is nothing else but man's autho
rity thrust upon us under divers shapes. For, first
of all, education and breeding is nothing else but the
authority of our teachers taken over our childhood.
Now there is nothing which ought to be of less force
with us, or which we ought more to suspect ; for
childhood hath one thing natural to it, which is a
great enemy to truth, and a great furtherer of deceit ;
what is that ? Credulity. Nothing Is more credulous
than a child ; and our daily experience shows how
strangely they will believe either their ancients, or
one another, in most incredible reports. For, to be
able to judge what persons, what reports are credible,
is a point of strength of which that age is not capable.
' The chiefest sinew and strength of wisdom,' saith
^ iii. 1 60.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 249
Eplcharmus, ' Is not easily to believe.' ^ Have we
not, then, great cause to call to better account, and
examine by better reason, whatsoever we learnt in
so credulous and easy an age, so apt, like the softest
wax, to receive every impression ? Yet notwith
standing this singular weakness, and this large and
real exception which we have against education, I
verily persuade myself that If the best and strongest
ground of most men's religion were opened, It would
appear to be nothing else.
" Secondly , Antiquity, what is it else (God only
excepted) but man's authority born some ages before
us ? Now for the truth of things, time makes no
alteration ; things are still the same they are, let the
time be past, present, or to come. Those things
which we reverence for antiquity, what were they at
their first birth ? Were they false ? Time cannot
make them true. Were they true ? Time cannot
make them more true. The circumstance, therefore,
of time, in respect of truth and error, is merely im
pertinent. Yet thus much must I say for antiquity,
that amongst all these balancing and halting proofs,
if truth have any advantage against error and deceit,
it is here. For there Is an antiquity which is proper
to truth, and in which error can claim no part ; but
then it must be an antiquity most ancient. This
cannot be but true, for it is God, and God is truth.
All other parts of antiquity, deceit and falsehood will
lay claim to as well as truth. Most certain it is, truth
is more ancient than error ; for error is nothing else
but deviation and swerving from the truth. Were
1 N^(^e, Kol /le/iwjir' dmaTclv, ravra yap apdpa tZv (ppevav.

250 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
not truth, therefore, first, there could be no error, since
there could be no swerving from that which Is not.
When, therefore, antiquity is pleaded for the proof of
any conclusion commended to you for true, be you
careful to know whether it be most ancient, yea or
no : If it be so, then is it an invincible proof, and
pleads for nothing but the truth ; if otherwise, though
it be as ancient, I say not as Inachus, but as Satan
himself, yet It is no proof of truth.
" Thirdly, Universality is such a proof of truth, as
truth itself is ashamed of ; for universality is nothing
but a quainter and a trimmer name to signify the
multitude. Now human authority at the strongest
is but weak, but the multitude is the weakest part of
human authority ; it is the great patron of error, most
easily abused, and most hardly disabused. The
beginning of error may be, and mostly is, from
private persons, but the maintainer and continuer of
error Is the multitude. Private persons first beget
errors in the multitude, and make them public ; and
publicness of them begets them again in private
persons.^ It Is a thing which our common expe
rience and practice acquaints us with, that when some
private persons have gained authority with the mul
titude, and infused some error into them, and made
it public, the publicness of the error gains authority
to it, and Interchangeably prevails with private per
sons to entertain it. The most singular and strongest
part of human authority is properly In the wisest and
most virtuous ; and these, I trow, are not the most
^ Ubi singulorum error fecerit publicum, singulorum errorem facit
publigus.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 251
universal. If truth and goodness go by universality
and multitude, what mean then the prophets and
holy men of God everywhere in Scripture so fre
quently, so bitterly, to complain of the small number
of good men, careful of God and truth ? Neither is
the complaint proper to Scripture ; it is the common
complaint of all that have left any records of antiquity
behind them. Could wishing do any good, I could
wish well to this kind of proof; but it will never go
so well with mankind that the most shall be the
best.^ The best that I can say of argument and
reason drawn from universality in multitude is this —
such reason may, perchance, well serve to excuse an
error, but it can never serve to warrant a truth.
" Fourthly, Councils, and synods, and consent of
Churches, these indeed may seem of some force;
they are taken to be the strongest weapons which
the Church had fought with ; yet this is still human
authority after another fashion. Let me add one
thing, that the truth hath not been more relieved by
these than It hath been distressed. At the Council
of Nice met 318 bishops to defend the divinity of
the Son of God ; but at Arimlnum met well near 600
bishops to deny it. I ask, then. What gained the
truth here by a synod ? Certainly In the eye of
reason it more endangered it, for it discovered the
advantage that error had among the multitude above
the truth ; by which reason truth might have been
greatly hazarded. I have read that the nobility of
Rome, upon some fancy or other, thought fit that all
1 Sed nunquam ita bene erit rebus humanis, ut plures sint
meliores.

252 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
servants should wear a kind of garment proper to
them, that so it might be known who were servants,
who were freemen ; but they were quickly weary of
this conceit, for perceiving in what multitudes ser
vants were in most places, they feared that the sin
gularity of their garment might be an item to them
to take notice of their multitude, and to know their
own strength, and so at length take advantage of it
against their masters. This device of calling councils
was but like that fancy of the Roman gentlemen ; for
many times It might well have proved a great means
to have endangered the truth, by making the enemies
thereof to see their own strength, and work upon that
advantage ; for it is a speedy way to make them to
see that, which for the most part is very true, that-
there are more which run against the truth than
with It." 1
These are but a few of the numerous passages full
of wise and truthful thought to be found in Hales's
three volumes. We have confined ourselves mainly
to one aspect of his writings, but they possess many
independent merits. He is before his age, not only
in his reach of thought on general religious questions,
but also as an expositor of Scripture. Some of his
expositions are fine specimens of exegetical argu
ment — as, for example, that " Of the Sin against the
Holy Ghost," in the first volume. It Is quite singular
how the loads of technical difficulty by which such
a subject has been obscured disappear under his clear,
quiet, direct analysis, keeping close to facts, and lay
ing them bare in the face of the pseudo-interpretations
' iii. 161-166.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 253
which have turned attention away from them. He
is strong for the " literal sense" of Scripture, — " the
literal, plain, and uncontroversable meaning, without
any additions or supply by way of interpretation." ^
His elaborate sermon in the third volume of " The
abuses of hard places of Scripture" is a mine of wise
and just criticism, which it Is strange to think has
produced so little effect as it has done. This is a
reflection, indeed, which constantly occurs in the
perusal of such a writer as Hales. The reader is
constantly coming upon remarks and trains of thought
which astonish him by their coincidence with the last
lessons of Christian criticism and philosophy. That
" the Bible must be interpreted like any other book"
would not have been any novelty to him, only he
would have added, that with all our pains in Inter
preting it, there would still remain " hard and intri
cate texts," in regard to which our duty Is to wait
and pray for light, and not rashly to attempt any
solution. It Is the craving of men for certainty in
matters which God has left In obscurity, and which
no wit of man can penetrate, which is the chief source
of controversy in the Church. " I verily persuade
myself that If It had pleased those who in all ages
have been set to govern the Church, to have taught
men rather not to have doubted than to have ex
pected still solutions of their doubtings ; to have
stopped up and dammed the originals and springs of
controversies, rather than by determining for the one
part to give them as It were a pipe and conduit to
convey them to posterity; I persuade myself, the
^ ii. 36.

254 JOHN HALES OF ETON :
Church would not have suffered that inundation of
opinions with which at this day it is overrun." ^
" When we seceded from the Church of Rome our
motive was, because she added unto Scripture her
glosses as canonical, to supply what the plain text of
Scripture could not yield. If in place of this we set
up our own glosses, thus to do were nothing else
than to pull down Baal and set up an ephod ; to run
round and meet the Church of Rome again at the
same point in which at first we left her." ^
Again, in the same sermon, which abounds in per
tinent and choice sayings which a reader instinctively
notes as he proceeds : — " If he that abases the
prince's coin deserves to die, what is his desert that
instead of the tried silver of God's Word, stamps the
name and character of God upon Nehushtan — upon
base brazen stuff of his own ?" ^
There are few theological writers who present
more scattered " beauties," both of thought and ex
pression — sayings which surprise the reader for their
quiet profundity and ripe store of meaning. A quaint
humour plays along his page at times, and a quick,
frequent variety of illustrations, which make his
sermons and tracts as fresh and interesting as when
they were written. If one reflects how difficult it
is to read some of the best theological writers of the
seventeenth century — men like Andrews or Ham
mond on the High Church side, or Owen, or even
Howe on the Puritan side — this will seem no ordinary
praise. It Is the complete rational activity of the
man, — the life of thought within him, — which fuses
1 ii. 43, 44. ^ Ibid., p. 36. ^ Ibid., p. 27.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 255
together his stores of knowledge, and gives them
forth in breathing and not dead forms. This interest
animates all he does. His wealth of illustration, if
sometimes excessive and occasionally irrelevant, is
never tiresome. Drawn from a copious and diversified
learning, it is never put forward for the sake of effect;
It has no air of ostentation or pedantry ; it is the
natural play of a richly-cultured mind. His patristic
and classical allusions come in rapid and easy succes
sion, nimbly tripping up one another in their course,
as if they ran a race in his fertile brain. It is no
uncommon thing to find Aristotle, Chrysostom, and
Cicero or Horace, all studding a single page of a
sermon, and fitly lending point or beauty to the
thought. A happy phrase or sentence from one
Father suggests a happy phrase or sentence from
another, and both are wrought with felicitous touch
into the texture of his own composition, — as in the
following example, which strikes us as quite a curiosa
felicitas : " Prayer added unto diligent labour Is like
a sweet voice to a well-tuned instrument, and makes
a pleasing harmony in the ears of God. ' The good
housewife,' saith Chrysostom, ' as she sits at her
distaff and reaches out her hand to the flax, may
even thus lift up. If not her eyes, yet her mind unto
heaven, and consecrate and hallow her work with earn
est prayer unto God.' ^ ' The husbandman,' saith St
Jerome, ' at the ploughtail, may sing a hallelujah ;
the sweating harvestman may refresh himself with a
psalm ; the gardener, whilst he prunes his vines and
arbours, may sound some one of David's sonnets.' " ^
' De Anna, Serm. iv. § 6. ^ EpisL lib. ii., ad Marcellum.

256 JOHN HALES -OF ETON:
But our criticism is sufficiently extended. We
have quoted enough to show what Hales was as a
writer, especially as a thinker — what a genuine
breadth of reason and of spiritual apprehension
there was In him. The combination which he pre
sents of simplicity and grasp of view — of modesty
and depth — of sobriety, and yet freedom of judg
ment, is particularly attractive. Liberal as are his
opinions for the age, he exhibits no' rashness or
intemperance of statement. He sees the folly of
mere deference to authority in religion. He ex
poses the main vice of theology in all ages —
the substitution of human opinion or " conceit " in
the place of divine truth. He expresses himself
" bluntly" at times, but never coarsely, and his
intellectual temper, upon the whole, is admirably
balanced. In a true sense his mind is " unshack
led ;"^ he has thrown himself loose, that is to say,
from many prejudices. But he Is nevertheless always
reverent, earnest, and moderate. He sees very well
that it is not the clergy or any particular class of
men that are mainly to blame for prevailing bigot
ries ; it is rather the natural sloth and prejudice
of human nature. He is content, therefore, to
unfold the evil and point the remedy. He knew
human nature too well, and had studied human
history too intelligently, to suppose that he could
speedily enlarge men's thoughts on such a subject
as religion. He held up a higher light in his
own teaching, but he was aware how many, from
weakness of reason or strength of passion, would
' Hallam, Hist, of England, ii. 77, loth ed.

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 257
continue to turn away from it. He was no more
fitted to be a reformer than a martyr. His reason
was too wide and large, and he felt all the difficulties
of a subject too keenly, to thrust his own views
impatiently or violently upon others. He was,
Clarendon tells us, fain to keep his opinions to him
self, as being far from confident that they might not
harm others less calm and sensible than himself,
" who might entertain other results from them than
he did." This led him to be " very reserved in
communicating what he thought himself on those
points in which he differed from what was received."
And there is something to be said in behalf of this
spirit of reserve. A constant experience makes It
evident that there are certain minds constitutionally
incapable of any freedom of opinion in religious mat
ters. They neither desire It for themselves nor
understand it in others. A freedom of speculation
like Hales's startles and confuses them without
awakening in them any higher thoughts. They
seem only capable of receiving the truth in some
partial half- superstitious form; and if the super
stitious vesture is stripped away, truth itself is apt
to follow. They have none of our author's power
of discriminating the essential from the accidental
In religion. And Hales knew this very well. He
knew, also, the violent and harmful prejudices which
persons of this contracted turn are apt to entertain
towards men of a more liberal thoughtfulness. He
had heard both himself and his friend Chillingworth
denounced with coarse violence as Socinians. To
a man of quiet, scholarly temper, such things are
VOL. I. R

258 JOHN HALES OF ETON:
odious. It is not only that they feel them un
merited, but that they also feel that no vindication
they could make would be Intelligible to the men
who urge them. For those who deal in such
charges are invariably incognisant of the deeper
grounds of religious opinion. They judge of
religious differences from the outside- — from super
ficial resemblance or antagonism. With no finer
edges either to their Intellect or their consci
ence, with no subtlety or depth of spiritual ima
gination, they cannot penetrate below the most
obvious distinctions of belief; and especially they
cannot understand minds which, like Hales's, are con
stantly seeking a unity of religious conception, —
which delight in search after such a unity to strip
off the scholastic folds in which religious opinion has
been swathed, and to see divine truth according
to the " simplicity which is In Christ."
But, reserved as Hales was as to some of his opin
ions, there was one point on which he expressed him
self with frank boldness : " Nothing troubled him
more," says Clarendon, " than the brawls which were
grown from religion. And he therefore exceed
ingly detested the tyranny of the Church of Rome,
more for their imposing uncharitably upon the con
sciences of other men, than for the errors in their
own opinions ; and would often say that he would
renounce the religion of the Church of England to
morrow, if it obliged him to believe that any other
Christian should be damned ; and that nobody would
conclude another man to be damned who did not wish
him so."

RELIGION AND DOGMATIC ORTHODOXY. 259
It is sufficiently obvious that,quiet and unobtrusive
as Hales's life may have been, he was a man of
marked influence upon a few higher minds. Per
sonally he- had no ambition, and apparently but little
activity. He kept aloof from the fierce practical
controversies of his time. It was his nature to do so
— to brood and meditate on the principles under
lying religious controversy, rather than to take any
active part in it. His intellectual refinement — his
sympathies with the Past-— his love of the concrete,
and tolerance of the historical- results to which
Christian usage and opinion had gradually grown
in England — made him incline to the Royalist
party, with which he ultimately threw in his lot, and
whose misfortunes he shared. In no circumstances
can he be conceived a Puritan. Those instincts of
political liberty which were the highest and most
aggressive element of Puritanism, if not uncongenial,
could only have feebly influenced him, while his
ideas of religious freedom were plainly of a more
thorough and comprehensive — in a word, of a more
rational — character than Puritanism has ever shown
itself capable of attaining. The importance attached
by the Puritan party to minute matters, details of
worship, or special interpretations of doctrine, were
scarcely Intelligible to a mind like his. Their dog
matic handling of Scripture, their love of formal
theory and abstruse logic, openly repelled him.
Like his friend Falkland, therefore, he stands "signi
ficantly aside from both extremes. He is a Church
man without narrowness ; a friend of authority,
who must yet have hated in his heart and deeply

26o JOHN HALES OF ETON.
felt the folly of Laud's tyranny. In freedom of
thought and clearness of faith, he greately excels
the mere professional divine of any age. He is
evangelical without dogmatism, and preaches grace
without despising philosophy. At once conservative
In feeling, and liberal in opinion, he hates all ex
tremes, as of the nature of falsehood, and a prolific
source of wrong. He is the representative — the
next after Hooker — of that catholicity yet ration
ality of Christian sentiment which has been the
peculiar glory of the Church of England.

26l

V.

WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH — THE BIBLE THE
RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS.
I. William Chillingworth is a more prominent
figure in the history of religious opinion than John
Hales. His name is widely known to English Pro
testants, and his great work, if not really read and
studied so much as it deserves to be, is yet gener
ally acknowledged as a bulwark of Protestant argu
ment, and one of its chief trophies in the long-waged,
still unfinished conflict with sacerdotal theory and
ecclesiastical exclusiveness.
Cbillingworth was eighteen years younger than
Hales, having been born in Oxford in October 1602.
His father was Mayor of Oxford ; and William
Laud, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, then a
Fellow of St John's College, was his godfather.^ This
connection was a significant one in his after-history.
He was " educated in grammar learning under Ed
ward Sylvester, a noted Latlnist and Grecian-;" and
at the age of sixteen " became a scholar of Trinity
^ Wood's Ath. Oxon., vol. ii. Our Writings of William Chilling-
main authorities for the facts of worth,' by Maizeaux, the latter
his life are Wood's ' Athenas Ox- a work of a more elaborate char-
onienses,' and the ' Historical and acter than the memoir by the
Critical Account of the Life and same author of Hales.

262 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
College, under the tuition of Mr Robert Skinner.''
He was admitted Master of Arts In 1623, and Fel
low of the same College in 1628.^ " He was there
observed," says Wood, " to be no drudge at his study ;
but being a man of great parts, would do much in a
little time when he settled to It." According to the
same authority, he was also noted thus early for his
keenly intellectual and argumentative disposition :
"He would often walk in the college grove and con
template ; but when he met with any scholar there,
he would enter discourse, and dispute with him pur
posely, to facilitate and make the way of wrangling
common with him, which was a fashion used in those
days, especially among the disputing theologlsts, or
among those that set themselves apart purposely for
divinity." Aubrey's version of the same circumstance
is characteristic : " He did walk much in the col
lege grove and there contemplate, and meet with
some cod's-head or other, and dispute with him and
baffle him. He thus prepared himself beforehand.
... He was the readiest and nimblest disputant
in the university ; perhaps none hath equalled him
since." He did not confine his studies to divinity, but ap
plied himself with great success to mathematics, and
even obtained some reputation as a poet. He finds
a place along with his friend Hales in Sir John
Suckling's "Session of the Poets."
When Chillingworth was thus engaged studying
and disputing at Oxford, the country was In a state
1 Wood's Ath. Oxon., vol. ii.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 263
of great controversial excitement. The anti-Papal
fever, of which we have already spokeri, was In full
vigour. Even before the death of King James, in
1625, the Court had shown signs of a leaning to
Rome. The Calvinistic enthusiasm, which found
vent in the patronage of the Synod of Dort, had
passed away. The High Church party, mainly
Arminian In its doctrinal tendencies, was acquiring
power. The Romanists began to raise their heads
once more, and priests traversed the country with
out molestation. On the accession of Charles I.,
and his marriage with the Princess Henrietta, sister
of Henry IV. of France, Popish influences were per
mitted still greater scope. The Queen, as a Roman
Catholic, had stipulated for the free exercise of her
religion, and a due attendance of its ministers — a
bishop, with twenty-eight priests or monks, and a
chapel wherever she might happen to reside. The
children of the marriage were to be trained under
her care till they were thirteen. The natural conse
quence of all this was great party activity and excite
ment. It seemed then, as on so many subsequent
occasions, that England might be once more gained
to the Catholic fold. Several Jesuits and " Seminary
Priests," as they were called, were very active among
the youth of the universities, and made not a few
converts, who were generally conveyed to English
seminaries abroad. The attention of Parliament was
iaroused to this evil, and it petitioned the King on
the subject in 1628, the same year in which Chilling-
¦wOrth obtained his fellowship. The words of the

264 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
petition are emphatically descriptive of the state of
feeling in the country. They pray that his Majesty
"would be pleased to command a surer and
straight watch to be kept in and over his Majesty's
ports and havens, and to commit the care and charge
of searching of ships for the discovery and apprehen
sion, as well of Jesuits and seminary priests brought
in, as of children and young students sent over be
yond the seas, to suck in the poison of rebellion and
superstition, unto men of approved fidelity and reli
gion : and such as should be convicted to have con
nived or combined in the bringing in the one or con
veying of the other, that the laws might pass upon
them with speedy execution." ^ The King agreed to
grant the prayer of the petition, and to give orders
to see it fully executed. But nothing came of the
royal promises, and the Parliament continued its
complaints. The Popish missionaries were Intrepid
and persevering, and easily succeeded in eluding the
feeble attempts that were made to search for and
apprehend them.
It Is in connection with the state of religious and
political excitement that we come across a story
which casts discreditable reflections upon Chilling
worth as a young man. The story, we need hardly
say, is partly attributable to Aubrey, although it has
assumed in later hands a more definite form than can
be found in his pages. We have already given our
reasons for discrediting Aubrey's scandals. It is
plain in reading them that they are often the veriest
gossip, without any evidence, or even the pretence
^ Rushworth, Hist. Collections.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 265
of evidence. It was enough for him to have heard
anything from anybody to lead him to commit it to
paper. His professed authority in the present case
is Sir William Davenant, Poet - Laureate, whose
word certainly cannot be held to give any weight to
statements otherwise incredible — inconsistent with
all we know of Chillingworth's character, both from
his friends and as depicted in his own writings.
The story is that Chillingworth, " notwithstand
ing," in Aubrey's language, " his great reason, was
guilty of the detestable crime of treachery." He
acted, in short, according to the insinuation, as a
sort of spy for Laud, " his godfather and great
friend," giving him " weekly Intelligence of what
passed In the university." And special trace of
this spy system is supposed to be found in connec
tion with information lodged against a certain Mr
Gill, a son of the head of St Paul's School, and one
of Milton's preceptors. This younger Gill — friend
and correspondent as he was of Milton — seems to
have been something of a fool. He had been bred
at Oxford, taken orders, and afterwards become
usher in the school under his father, where he had
come in contact with Milton, and apparently assisted
in his education. All this might be supposed a guar
antee of respectability, but there was a mad humour
in the man that might have proved fatal to him.
Not content with writing letters to his friends at the
university stuffed with dangerous nonsense about
the Court, he was in the habit of running down to
Oxford on a visit to his old haunts there. On one
of these occasions, in the autumn of 1628 — following

266 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
the assassination of the Duke of Buckingham by
Felton — he was in Trinity College cellar drinking
with " divers others," when the talk fell upon the
events of the time. Gill became boisterous over his
cups, and is reported to have said that "our King
was fitter to stand in a Cheapside shop with an apron
before him, and say, ' What lack ye ?' than to govern
a kingdom ; " and further, that " the Duke was gone
to hell to meet James there." He is further repre
sented as having drunk Felton's health, saying " he
was sorry Felton had deprived him of the honour of
doing that brave act." ^ All this nonsense was com
municated to Laud ; Gill was arraigned and tried
before the Star-Chamber, and condemned, as the
consequence of his folly, to be degraded from his
ministry and degrees in the university, to be fined
heavily, and to have his ears taken off, the one at
London, and the other at Oxford. The fine and
corporal punishment were remitted on the earnest
petition of " old Mr Gill " to his Majesty ; and the
son lived, as such braggarts often do, to change
entirely his political tune. He became a very servile
courtier, and even a literary lackey to the Arch
bishop. Professor Masson has told this story of Milton's
friend in his 'Life of Milton ;'2 and the question
occurring of how the report of Gill's escapade could
have reached Laud's ears, leaves it to be inferred
that Chillingworth may have been his informant.
Putting together Aubrey's scandal and the state-
^ See account quoted, Masson's Life of Milton, i, 177,
2 Ibid.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 267
ments of certain documents in the State Paper Office
that " one Mr Shillingworth," along with others, was
present when " Alex. Gill spake his lewd words," it
appears to him "that Aubrey had got some true
inkling of the fact," though, he hopes, "in a form
unnecessarily discreditable to Chillingworth." The
whole affair seems altogether too paltry to be
mentioned with the name of Chillingworth, who,
whatever may have been his faults, was a true
and generous - minded man. Incapable of such
meanness as the story implies. Clarendon, who,
in some respects, has by no means drawn a flatter
ing portrait of him, emphasises the " conspicu
ous sincerity of his heart," and the " innocence and
candour of his nature." The whole structure of
the scandal, moreover, falls to pieces when closely
examined. Aubrey, in his more detailed statements,
not only does not say anything of Gill's mad freak
¦and speeches at Oxford, but gives a version of his
conduct quite different from and inconsistent with the
story repeated by Mr Masson. He says that young
Gill and Chillingworth " held weekly Intelligence one
with another for some years, wherein they used to
nibble at State matters," and that " in one of his
letters " Gill called " King James and his sonne the
old foole and the young one, w* letter Chillingworth
communicated to W. Laud, A.B. Cant." Now any
grain of truth there may be in this story cannot
well refer to an event which happened in 1628, three
years after King James's death. The only thing
which can be said to be proved in the whole matter
is Chillingworth's presence, along with three other

268 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
persons, when Gill made his mad speeches. There
is not the slightest reason — apart from Aubrey's
malice — for supposing him to have been Laud's
informant. And if it be necessary to make any
supposition about the informant, there is a person
of the name of Pickering mentioned amongst those
present whom Gill jeers or Insults on the occasion,
because he refuses to enter fully into his wild hu
mour, and drink the toast to Felton's health. This
Pickering may have taken his revenge by having
some hint of the matter conveyed to the Arch
bishop. And on such a supposition it is further
conceivable that the Archbishop, from his personal
relations with Chillingworth, may have asked him as
to the truth of the story. This is all that can pos
sibly be Imagined.
Aubrey's charge of treachery stands entirely by
itself on the authority of Davenant ; and when the
question lies betwixt a man, as his letters show, and
all his friends testify, of even sensitive honour — and
" a roving, magotle - headed " gossip reporting the
speech of one who, besides his looseness of character,
may be supposed to have had malicious intentions
towards our author, there cannot be said to be really
any question at all. Davenant was one of the numer
ous Catholic perverts of the time ; and it is notorious
with what feelings of enmity this class regarded the
author of ' The Religion of Protestants,' whose own
experience of Romanism and subsequent refutation
of it had so much damaged their cause. The
"great asperity and reproaches" of the Roman

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 269
Catholic faction against him was a matter of com
mon remark.^ It was Chillingworth's fate to be
thoroughly misunderstood by religious blockheads
and partisans on both sides. Blind Papist and blind
Puritan alike feared and disliked him, and the apti
tude of both in the arts of detraction Is well known.
Neither certainly spared Chillingworth, as we shall
find in the course of our narrative. His own per
sonal connection with the Romanist movement, the
manner in which he was hurried away by it, and
then again restored to the English Church, made
him a conspicuous object of attack.
Among the Roman missionaries there was one
known under the name of John Fisher, a Jesuit of great
acuteness and of enthusiastic ambition in the work
of proselytlsm. He was a native of Durham, and a
convert from Protestantism. ^ His proper name was
Perse or Percey. He is described as "a generosus
athleta Christi," who* feared neither pain nor im
prisonment in the service of his faith in making con
verts, in which he was very successful.^ Fisher was
"much conversant in Oxford." He devoted himself
to the students, especially such as gave promise of
future distinction. Chillingworth very soon attracted
his attention, and he " used all means possible to
1 Clarendon, Life, i. 63. ingham in 1622, and whose "con-
^, Bibliotheca Scriptorum, Soe. tinual cunning labours " had well-
Jesu, quoted by Maizeaux, p. 5. nigh seduced the Duke himself
^ This is the same Jesuit with from the Church of England. See
whom Laud had his " conference," p. 74, and Laud's Diary, p. 5,
who was instrumental in the con- and History and Trial of Arch.
version of the Duchess of Buck- Laud, p. 226,

270 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
be acquainted with him." ^ He drew him into con
troversy, which could not have been a difficult task.
Chillingworth's mind was already excited on the
question of an infallible living Judge in matters of
faith, and this became the great topic of dispute
between them. The Jesuit was master of his con
troversial weapons, and succeeded in silencing Chil
lingworth. He found himself " unable to answer the
arguments of the Jesuit ; " nor was he pleased with
"the solutions which were given him by those
of our learned divines to whom he proposed the said
arguments."^ These " solutions " did not seem to
him to meet the case ; he craved, as so many minds
before and since have done, for a decisive tribunal
in religious controversy as the only refuge from the
doubts which tormented him. Romanism alone
professed to offer such a tribunal ; and the conse
quence was, that he forsook the Anglican com-,
munion and sought satisfaction in that of Rome.
He wrote a letter on the subject to his friend Shel
don, urging upon him the serious consideration of
the two following queries : " ist. Whether it be
evident from Scripture and Fathers and reason, from
the goodness of God and the necessity of mankind,
that there must be some one Church infallible in
matters of faith ? 2d, Whether there be any other
society of men in the world beside the Church of
Rome, that either can upon good warrant, or in
deed at all, challenge to itself the privilege of infal
libility in matters of faith ? " ^
An attentive, consideration of these questions
' Wood's Ath. Oxon., vol. ii. ° Ibid, * Maizeaux, p. 8.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 271
appeared to him, in his present state of mind, to lead
necessarily to an affirmative conclusion in the' first,
and a negative conclusion in the second. He ex
pressed his happiness as to the way in which he had
entered, and hoped that it might please God to draw
his friend after him.^
Fisher did not, of course, lose sight of so promis
ing a pupil. He induced him to set down in writing
his motives or reasons for embracing the Roman
Catholic religion, and also to proceed to the college
of the Jesuits at Douay, with a view to his more
perfect training In its characteristic principles. The
exact date of his journey to Douay is not ascer
tained ; but he made only a short stay there. ^ It
was a luckless step in Chillingworth's case sending
him to a Jesuit seminary. Close contact with the
system which he had embraced was all that was
needed to arouse the higher susceptibilities of a
mind like his. It had been his restlessness of in
quiry, his frank fearlessness in search of truth, which
had led him to Romanism. The Roman Catholic
appeared to him for the time to have the best of the
argument, with the fullest attention which he could
give to the subject. But a mind so truth-loving,
candid, and keen-sighted, could not halt in the inves
tigation on which it had entered. He was especially
ill-fitted to fall in with the routine of a " seminary, "
and the dialectic and practical studies by which
Jesuitism sought to confirm converts and bring them
under the full discipline of their new faith. N ever was
man less fitted to become a Jesuit priest, and give
" Maizeaux, p. 8. ^ Ibid., p. 9.

272 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
up his mind to the service of others. Moreover,
Laud,* then Bishop of London, having heard of his
conversion with great concern, entered into a corre
spondence with him. Chillingworth responded with
" a great deal of moderation, candour, and imparti
ality," and the prelate continued to " press him with
several arguments against the doctrine and the prac
tice of the Romanists." The result was that Fisher's
convert passed speedily out of his hands. His in
quisitive, argumentative spirit dug deeper into the
heart of the subject, beneath the fallacies which had
puzzled and captivated him. The atmosphere of
Douay became unendurable, and he returned to
England in 1631;^ paid a visit to Laud, who wel
comed him with kindness ; and then, with the
Bishop's approval, returned to Oxford, " in order to
complete the important work he was upon — a. free
inquiry into religion." ^
Such is, in brief, the outward history of Chilling
worth's conversion to Rome and reconversion to
the Church of England. Of his life and occupations
at Douay he has not given us, nor do we possess
otherwise, any account. From hints, however, that
occur In his writings, there can be litde doubt that
his experience there was greatly disappointing. ^
^ Wood, vol. ii. him from Romanism ; and we
" Maizeaux, p. 13. In his trial are bound to remember this great
before the House of Lords (' His- service, whatever judgment we
tory of the Troubles and Tryal of pronounce on Laud's ecclesiastical
William Laud,' &c., p. 227), Laud legislation.
pleaded in favour of his own Pro- ' Aubrey, of course, has some-
testantism his connection with thing to say on this point, so en-
Chillingworth, and the influence tirely like himself, and so unlike
he had exercised in reconverting Chillingworth, that it may deserve

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 273
He found, as he says in one of his casual writings,
termed ' Additional Discourses,' ^ " that the Roman
religion is much more exorbitant in the general prac
tice of it than it is in the doctrine published in books
of controversy, where it is delivered with much
caution and moderation — nay, cunning and dissimu
lation — that it may be the fitter to win and engage
proselytes." The special point of which he is speak
ing is, as to whether incense was really offered to the
Virgin Mary. The Roman Catholic disputant had
maintained that this was a " foul slander," and that
incensing in every case was " understood by all sorts
of people to be directed to God only." He appeals
to his own experience in refutation of this, and in
proof of the fact that, in processions, incense was
offered to the images of the saints. " I myself
(unless I am very much mistaken) was present when
this very thing was done to the picture of St Bennet
or St Gregory, in the cloister of St Vedastus, in the
monastery in Douay." In the course of his argu
ments in the ' Religion of Protestants ' he also ap
peals unfavourably to his "conversation" with his
Roman teachers. " I knew," he says, " a young
scholar in Douay, licensed by a great casuist to
to be quoted. At Douay, he says, understanding Chillingworth, and
"they made him" (Chillingworth) the low habits of thought which
" the porter (which was to trye his cling to him as to all gossips, lit-
temper and exercise his obedi- erary or otherwise.
ence), so he stole over, and came ^ ' A Conference concerning
to Trinity Coll. againe." Such the Infallibility of the Roman
statements are hardly worthy of Church.' — Works, Oxf. Press, iii.
notice, save to show how incap- 325.
able a man like Aubrey was of
VOL. I. S

274 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
swear a thing as upon his certain knowledge whereof
he had no knowledge, but only a great presumption,
' because (forsooth) it was the opinion of one doctor
that he might do so.' "
Such allusions are sufficient to show that there
were things at Douay which served to repel him ;
but we should mistake if we attributed too much
influence to such matters, or to any external agen
cies whatever, in the process of religious conflict
through which Chillingworth now passed. What
ever may have been the effect of arguments ad
dressed to him from the one side or the other, or of
incidents helping to enlighten his unsuspecting con
fidence, there can be no doubt that his motive power
throughout was from within, rather than from with
out. This is clear to any one who really under
stands the character of his mind, and the account
which he himself has given of the principles which
continually animated and guided him. In the
preface to his great work, he says, that it was his
desire " to go the right way to eternal happiness ;
and whether this way lie on the left or straight
forward, whether it be by following a living
guide, or by seeking my directions in a book, or
by hearkening to the secret whispers of some
private friend — to me it is indifferent. And he that
is otherwise affected, and hath not a traveller's
indifference — which Epictetus requires in all that
would find the truth — but much desires in respect of
his ease or pleasure, or profit or advancement, or
satisfaction of friend, or any human consideration,
that one way should be true rather than other, it is

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 275
odds but he will take his desire that it should be so
for an assurance that It is so." ^ This was not his
case unless he deceives himself On the contrary,
he is and was unwilling "to take anything upon
trust, and to believe it without asking himself why."
Nor was he disposed " to follow like a sheep every
shepherd that should take upon him to guide ; or
every flock that should chance to go before ; but
most apt and most willing to be led by reason" this
way or that — " submitting all other reasons to this
one : God hath said so ; therefore, It is true." He
explains, further, that he did not expect " mathe
matical demonstrations on matters plainly incapable
of them." All that he wished were " reasons " which,
" being weighed in an even balance, held by an even
hand with those on the other side," would turn
the scale, and make the one religion " more credible
than the other." ^
He has left us, besides, a special paper which brings
out clearly the self-directed and highly rational char
acter of the arguments which influenced him on the
one side and the other. The paper is entitled —
" An Account of what moved the Author to turn
Papist, with his own Confutation of the Arguments
that persuaded him thereto."^ He explains dis
tinctly In the outset why he reconciled himself to the
Church of Rome. He thought he had "sufficient
reason to believe that there was and must be always
in the world some church that could not err " — and
that the Church of Rome was that church. He was
^ Works, i. 2 — Oxford Univer- ' Ibid., i. 3.
sity Press. = Ibid., iii. 386-392.

276 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
"put Into doubt" of this way of thinking "by Dr
Stapleton and others, who limit the Church's freedom
from error to things necessary only." He alludes,
no doubt, to a Roman Catholic divine of this name
in the preceding century, who was for a time Pro
fessor of Divinity in the College at Douay, and whose
writings were greatly esteemed there. Perron pro
nounced him to be the first polemical writer of his
age. Dr Stapleton's writings had probably been
commended to Chillingworth to establish him in the
faith ; and it Is highly characteristic of his acute and
restless intellect, that the very means adopted for
strengthening his convictions should have been the
means of again unsettling them. Reflecting " that
most of the differences between Protestants and
Roman Catholics were not touching things neces
sary," he concluded that he " had not sufficient
ground to believe the Roman Church either could
not or did not err in anything — and therefore no
ground to be a Roman Catholic."
But he was not yet free from the toils of the con
troversy. Again he was persuaded that while it was
possible for the Church to err In things not necessary,
the Church itself must yet be held to be the only
judge of things necessary and not necessary, and that,
consequently, all must be believed which the Church
teaches as matters of faith. In other words, he was
brought back to the point that the Church Is, and can
be, our only guide in the way to heaven. He was
brought to this conclusion, first, " Because there was
nothing that could reasonably contest with the Church
about this office but the Scripture " — and the Scrip-

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 277
ture seemed to him to depend for its authority on the
Church ; and secondly. Because It appeared to him,
from a passage in the Epistle to the Ephesians,^ that
there must be to the world's end a succession of
pastors infallibly fitted to guide men In matters of
faith. And " by the confession of all other societies
of pastors," there was no such succession elsewhere
but in the Church of Rome.
Such was Chillingworth's second standing-ground as
a Romanist. But the argumentativeness which drove
him to this point soon again drove him away from it.
Gradually It was demonstrated to him, in reference
to the first point, that the ground on which Scripture
is to be accepted as the Word of God was, not the
authority of the Roman Church, but " the general
consent of Christians of all nations and ages — a far
greater company than that of the Church of Rome."
Further, he became convinced that it was unreasonable
to think that any one reading Scripture "with no
other end but to find the will of God," should have
It imputed to him as a fault that in any respect
he mistook that will. This seemed to him inconsist
ent with the divine goodness. It will be afterwards
seen how frequently he recurs to this thought, and
draws It out In every possible form of emphasis. As
to the second point, he came to see that the passage
in the Epistle to the Ephesians, instead of teaching,
when rightly viewed, an Infallible succession of pas
tors, really furnished a strong argument against the
idea of any such succession. St Paul there speaks
of the appointment of certain officers in the Church,
' Eph. iv. 11-13.

278 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
but without any reference to their perpetuity; and
" it is evident that God promised no such succession,
because it is not certain that he hath made good any
such promise." " The apostles, and prophets, and
evangelists, and pastors, which our Saviour gave
upon His ascension, were given by Him that they
might consummate the saints, do the work of the
ministry, edify the body of Christ, until we all come
Into the unity of faith ; that we be not like children,
wavering and carried up and down with every wind
of doctrine. The apostles and prophets, &c., that
then were, do not now in their own persons and
by oral Instruction do the work of the ministry, to
the intent we may be kept from wavering, and being
carried up and down with every wind of doctrine :
therefore they do this some other way. Now there
is no other way by which they can do it but by their
writings ; and therefore by their writings they do it :
therefore by the writings, and believing of them, we
are to be kept from wavering in matters of faith :
therefore the scriptures of the apostles and prophets
and evangelists are our guides : therefore not the
Church of Rome." ^
This passage, and the whole course of thought
analysed in this paper, give a clear insight into the
character of Chillingworth's mind, and furnish the
true key to his changes of opinion at this period.
Religion was from the first with him a subject of
free, honest, persevering inquiry. He had no idea
of attaching himself to a side or cause without a clear
well-grounded conviction of the part he was acting.
' Ibid., iii. 391, 392.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 279
Not only was he inaccessible to the motives of
grosser self-interest of any kind, but equally so to
the subtler self-interest which many minds obey in
such matters — the prepossession of personal feeling,
the impulse of the affections, or, in its highest form,
some phase of mental passion which irresistibly
impels towards conviction and faith of some kind,
rather than mental light and the calm reasoning
thoughtfulness which is continually asking higher
questions and aiming at a clearer sight. It was his
special characteristic to inquire till he reached some
basis of principle on which he could rest In the full
light of his own luminous reason. He has him
self explained his stand-point so fully that we cannot
do better than quote his own words — words bright
with a Christian sense and wisdom now as much
needed as ever.
A friend of the name of Lewgar, who had become
with him, and according to some accounts, under
his influence, a convert to Romanism, sent him a
very angry letter after his reconversion, renouncing
his friendship and excommunicating him. His reply
is very noble. He does not conceal his pain. The
loss of a friend goes very near unto his heart. But
he is calmly interrogative in the face of abuse :
" If this proceed from passion or weakness, I pray
mend it; if from reason, I pray show it. If you
think me one of those to whom St John forbids you
to say, ' God save you', then you are to think and
prove me one of those deceivers which deny Christ
Jesus to be come in the fiesh. If you think me an
heretick, and therefore to be avoided, you must prove

28o WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
me avroKwraKpiTov — condemned by my own judgment
— which I know I cannot, and therefore I think you
cannot. If you say, / do not hear the Church, and
therefore am to be esteemed an heathen or publican,
you are to prove that by the Church there is meant
the Church of Rome ; and yet when you have done
so, I hope Christians are not forbidden to show
humanity and civility even to Pagans ; for God's
sake, Mr Lewgar, free yourself from this blind zeal, —
at least for a little space ; and consider with reason
and moderation what strange crime you can charge
me with that should deserve this strange usage,
especially from you. Is it a crime to endeavour,
with all my understanding, to find your religion true,
and not ta be able to do so ? Is It a crime to employ
all my reason in justification of the infallibility of
the Roman Church, and to find it impossible to be
justified "^ I will call God to witness, who knows
my heart better than you, that I have evened the
scale of my judgment as much as possibly I could,
and have not willingly allowed any one grain of
worldly motives on either side, but have weighed
the reasons for your religion and against, with such
indifference as if there were nothing in the world but
God and myself; and is It my fault that that scale
goes down which hath the most weight in it ? — that
that building falls which hath a false foundation ?
Have you such power over your understanding that
you can believe what you please, though you see no
reason .'' If you have, I pray, for our old friendship's
sake, teach me that trick ; but until I have learned
it, I pray blame me not for going the ordinary way

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 281
— I mean, for believing or not believing as I see
reason. If you can convince me of wilful opposition
against the known truth, of negligence in seeking it,
of unwillingness to find it, of preferring temporal
respects before it, or of any other fault which is in
my power to amend, if I amend it not, be as angry
with me as you please. But to impute to me in
voluntary errors ; or that I do not see that which I
would see, but cannot, or that I will not profess that
which I do not believe — certainly this is far more
unreasonable error than any which you can justly
charge me with ; for let me tell you, the imputing
Socinianism to me, whosoever was the author of it,
was a wicked and groundless slander."^
He then enters upon the great question which had
been the determining one in all his investigations —
the question of infallibility as claimed by the Church
of Rome ; and concludes against the claim especially
on the ground that it was unknown to the primitive
Church. Scripture and universal tradition appear to
him the only firm and safe foundation on which to
build the Christian faith. He had afterwards several
discussions with his friend, who was moved by the
tone of his letter. Other discussions were also forced
upon him, all more or less on the same subject. He
worked out In the course of these discussions many
of the special trains of thought afterwards embodied
in the ' Religion of Protestants.' The details of the
controversy were taken up by him In succession till
his mind became thoroughly imbued with them, and he
was amply furnished for the great task awaiting him.
1 Maizeaux, p. 32-34.

282 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
The occasion for the exercise of his powers soon
arose. A Jesuit who went by the name of Knott,
but whose true name was Wilson, a native of North
umberland, published in 1630 a little book, entitled
' Charity Mistaken,' the aim of which was to prove
Protestants to be beyond the pale of salvation. Dr
Potter, of Queen's College, Oxford, published In
1633 a reply to the Jesuit's pamphlet ; and the Jesuit
responded In the following year in a more elaborate
treatise, under the title, ' Mercy and Truth, or
Charity maintained by Catholics.' Chillingworth
undertook to answer this reply, and set himself to
his work with great earnestness. For this purpose
he appears to have retired to the residence of his
friend Lord Falkland, whose society we described
In a former chapter, and whose library was peculiarly
rich in controversial and patristic divinity. His lord
ship himself, also, was well versed in the literature
of the controversy. Here, assisted by his friend's
learning, and stimulated by the conversational bril
liancy of the convivium, theologicum, he completed,
after a considerable interval, his task. It appears to
have engaged him during the years 1635, 1636, and
1637. In the end of this last year it was published.
We hear little of him otherwise during these years.
All that we do hear tends to show the liberal direc
tion of his theological studies. He expresses him
self in regard to Arianism as " at least no damnable
heresy " in the view of the opinions of the ante-
Nicene fathers — to which he gives detailed refer
ences.^ He was offered preferment in the Church
¦^ Maizeaux, p. 49-56.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 283
of England, but felt himself unable to accept it, on
the ground of inability to subscribe the Thirty-nine
Articles. His position in this latter matter is inter
esting, particularly as he afterwards, on further con
sideration, abandoned it. He objected mainly to the
Athanasian Creed, which, as well as the Nicene and
the Apostles' Creed, it Is said in the Articles, "ought
thoroughly to be received and believed — for they
may be proved by most certain warrants of Holy
Scripture." ^ He disapproved of the damnatory
clauses ofthis creed. He could not apprehend, and
much less affirm, that anybody should perish ever
lastingly for not thinking of the doctrine of the
Trinity as therein expounded. "He thought that
it was great presumption thus to confine God's
mercy, and that such a declaration tended to create
animosities and divisions In the Christian Church." ^
He had difficulties also respecting the Fourth Com
mandment, which he did not acknowledge to be
binding upon Christians as the Prayer-Book seemed
to make it.^ He wrote at length to his friend Dr
Sheldon, setting forth his scruples, and declaring that
he " would never do anything for preferment" which
he " could not do but for preferment." * Sheldon re-
1 Article viii. worth's character. The letter is
= Maizeaux, p. 81. dated from Tew, Sept. 21, 1635,
3 Ibid., p. 81, 82. and is as follows : —
* This letter, long as it is, de
serves to be quoted in full. What- " Good Dr Sheldon, — I do
ever may be thought of its argu- here send you news, as unto my
ments, and the somewhat excited best friend, of a great and happy
tone of feeling which it betrays, it victory, which at length with ex-
at least sets in a striking light the tream difficultie I have scarcely
noble sensitiveness of Chilling- obtained over the onely enemie

284 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
plied, and several letters passed between them. Un
happily there have only been notes of these letters

that can hurt me, that is, my
selfe. " Sir, so it is, that though I am
in debt to your selfe and others of
my friends above twenty pounds
more than I know how to pay ;
though I am in want of many con
veniences ; though in great danger
of falling into a chronicall infirmi-
tie of my body ; though in another
thing, which you perhaps guesse
at what it is, but I will not tell
you, which would make me more
joyfull of preferment than all these
(if I could come honestly by it) ;
though money comes to me from
my father's purse like blood from
his veins, or from his heart; though
I am very sensible that I have been
too long already an unprofitable
burden to my Lord, and must not
still continue so ; though my re
fusing preferment may perhaps
(which fear, I assure you, does
much afflict me) be injurious to
my friends and intimate acquaint
ance, and prejudicial to them in the
way of theirs ; though conscience
of my own good intention and de
sire suggests unto me many flat
tering hopes of great possibilitie
of doing God and His Church ser
vice, if I had that preferment which
I may fairly hope for ; though I
may justly fear, that by refusing
those preferments which I sought
for, I shall gain the reputation of
weaknesse and levity, and incur
their displeasure, whose good
opinion of me, next to God's fa
vour, and my own good opinion

of my selfe, I do esteem and desire
above all things ; though all these
and many other terribiles visu
for7nce have represented them
selves to my imagination in the
most hideous manner that may
be ; yet I aiji at length firmly and
unmoveably resolved, if I can have
no preferment without Subscrip
tion, that I neither can nor will
have any.
" For this resolution I have but
one reason against a thousand
temptations to the contrary, but
it is tv fieya, against which, if all
the little reasons in the world were
put in the balance, they would be
lighter than vanity. In brief, this
it is : as long as I keep that modest
and humble assurance of God's
love and favour which I now en
joy, and wherein I hope I shall be
daily more and more confirmed ;
so long, in despite of all the world,
I may and shall and will be happy.
But if I once lose this ; though all
the world should conspire to make
me happy, I shall and must be
extremely miserable. Now this
inestimable jewel, if I subscribe
(without such a declaration as
will make the subscription no
subscription), I shall wittingly
and willingly throw away. For
though I am very well perswaded
of you and my other friends, who
do so with a full perswasion that
you may do it lawfully ; yet the
case stands so with me, and I can
see no remedy but for ever it will
do so, that if I subscribe, I sub-

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS.

285

preserved ; but it appears from the notes that Chil
lingworth, besides objecting to various details in the

scribe my own damnation. For
though I do verily believe the
Church of England a true mem
ber of the Church, that she wants
nothing necessary to salvation,
and holds rwthing -repugnant to
it ; and had thought that to think
so had sufficiently qualified me
for a subscription : yet now I
plainly see, if I will not juggle
with my conscience, and play with
God Almighty, I must forbear.
" For, to say nothing of other
things, which I have so well con-
sider'd as not to be in state to
sign them, and yet not so well as
to declare my self against them ;
two points there are, wherein I
am fully resolved, and therefore
care not who knows my mind.
One is, that to say the Fourth
Commandment is a law of God
appertaining to Christians, is false
and unlawfull : the other, that the
damning sentences in St Athan-
asius's Creed (as we are made to
subscribe it) are most false, and
also in a high degree presumptu
ous and schismaticall. And there
fore I can neither subscribe that
these things are agreeable to the
Word of God, seeing I believe they
are certainly repugnant to it : nor
that the whole Common Prayer is
lawful to be used, seeing I believe
these parts of it certainly unlaw
full : nor promise that I my self
will use it, seeing I never intend
either to read these things which
I have now excepted against, or
to say Amen to them.

" I shall not need to intreat you
not to be offended with mee for
this my most honest and (as I
verily believe) most wise resolu
tion ; hopeing .rather you will do
your endeavour, that I may neither
be honest at so dear a rate, as the
losse of preferment at so much
dearer a rate, the losse of honesty.
" I think my selfe happy that it
pleased God, when I was resolved
to venture upon a subscription
without full assurance of the un-
lawfulnesse of it, to cast in my
way two unexpected impediments
to divert me from accomplishing
my resolution. For I profess
unto you, since I entertained it, I
have never enjoyed quiet day nor
night, till now that I have rid my
self of it again; and I plainly per
ceive that if I had swallowed this
pill, howsoever gilded over with
glosses and reservations, and wrapt
up in conserves of good intentions
and purposes, yet it would never
have agreed nor stay'd with me,
but I would have cast it up again,
and with it whatsoever prefer
ment I should have gain'd with it
as the wages of unrighteousness,
which would have been a great
injury to you, and to my Lord
Keeper : whereas now, res est
integraj and he will not lose the
gift of any preferment by bestow
ing it on mee, nor have any en
gagement to Mr Andrewes for
me. " But however this would have
succeeded in case I had then sub-

286 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE

Articles, objected to the principle of articles in
general, " as an imposition on men's consciences,

scribed, I thank God I am now so
resolved, that I will never do that
while I am living and in health,
which I would not do if I were
dying ; and this, I am sure, I
would not do. I would never do
anything for preferment, which I
would not do but for preferment :
and this, I am sure, I should not
do. I will never undervalue the
happiness which God's love brings
to mee with it, as to put it to the
least adventure in the world, for
the gaining of any worldly hap-
pinesse; I remember very well
qucBrite prifnum regnum Dei, et
ccetera omnia adjicientur tibi: and
therefore, whenever I make such
a preposterous choice, I will give
you leave to think I am out of my
wits, or do not beleeve in God, or
at least am so unreasonable as to
do a thing in hope I shall be
sorry for it afterwards, and wish
it undone.i " It cannot be avoided, but my
Lord of Canterbury must come to
know this my resolution, and, I
think, the sooner the better. Let
me entreat you to acquaint him
with it (if you think it expedient),
and let me hear from you as soon
as possibly you can. But when
you write, I pray remember, that
my foregoing preferment (in this
state wherein I am) is grief enough
to me ; and do not you add to it,
by being angry with mee for doing
that which I must do or be miser
able.— I am your most loveing
and true servant," &c.

It has been strangely repre
sented in the view of this letter,
and Chillingworth's subsequent
statements about the meaning of
subscription (Preface, p. 35), as if
he had at length forced his con
science to the point desired by
Sheldon, and, so to speak, gulped
down all his difficulties under
"a hollow compromise" with his
better feelings. Is it not rather
plain, in the light of such a
letter, that Chillingworth must
have reached his new conclusions
through the exercise of the same
conscientious thoughtfulness with
which he held his old ones? A
man does not change or lose his
character when he changes his
intellectual conclusions. Chil
lingworth's first attitude towards
subscription may appear to some
minds the more consistent and
higher attitude. But this is no
evidence that it is so in reality;
and still less is it any warrant for
supposing that it must have con
tinued to seem so to Chilling
worth himself, notwithstanding
his change of action ; and that,
therefore, the only explanation of
this change is to be found in his
having dealt so far dishonestly
with his own convictions. For
this is what the charge comes
to. On the contrary, nothing
seems more natural or intelligible
than Chillingworth's change of
attitude. In his letter to Sheldon,
he is in all the enthusiasm of
a young inquirer. .Subscription

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS.

287

much like that authority which the Church of Rome
assumes."^ Sheldon seems to have taken up his
objections in detail, and done his best to remove
them. He did not spare, at the same time, the sort
of advice which is always ready on such occasions.
" Be not forward, nor possessed with a spirit of con
tradiction."^ We have no indication of the exact
effect of his friend's arguments or advice upon Chil
lingworth. But his mind worked Itself clear of Its

appears to him to imply, not
only assent to the general doc
trine of the Athanasian Creed as
" thoroughly to be received and
believed " in the words of the
eighth Article of Religion, but
also personal acceptance of its
damnatory clauses. The Fourth
Commandment, again, appeared to
him in its strict interpretation to
be a merely Jewish law, and there
fore " false " in its application to
Christians. He was unable, in
either case, to separate the "essen
tial" from the "accidental." He
had much less capacity than his
friend Hales of doing this at any
time ; and an eager spirit of theo
logical enthusiasm is almost al
ways narrow in its intensity. But
in the course of two years' further
reflection, Chillingworth came to
see these points, and probably
other points, in a different light.
He recognised, we may suppose,
as so many have since done, that
the damnatory clauses of the
Athanasian Creed are not an in
tegral part of the Creed in the
sense of the eighth Article — the
very attitude taken up by the high-
minded and thoughtful Bishop of

St Davids at the time we write
(see ' Guardian,' March 27, 1872).
Beyond doubt, also, he came to
see that subscription cannot mean
to any rational and fully intelli
gent mind direct personal assent
to all the particulars of a creed.
This is really a higher and more
thoughtful, if less enthusiastic,
attitude than that expressed in
his letter. But higher or not —
is not really the question. The
only question is — may it not be
an equally honest attitude ? And
can we doubt that it was so in the
case of Chillingworth, and that he
was therefore as truly conscien
tious in ultimately consenting to
subscribe, as in at first refusing
to do so ? Because a man changes
his views of the stringency of an
obligation, and adopts in the
second instance what may seem
to others a lower or laxer view,
it is hardly fair or charitable to
impugn his personal honesty. The
deliberate conclusions of a great
mind deserve from us a more can
did judgment.
^ Maizeaux, p. loi.
2 Ibid., p. 103.

288 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE.
scruples before long. A passage in the close of the
preface, to which we have already referred, probably
gives us the best insight into his motives for ultimately
subscrlbiilg the Articles and accepting preferment.
" For the Church of England," he says, " I am per
suaded that the constant doctrine of it is so pure and
orthodoxe, that whosoever believes it and lives ac
cording to it, undoubtedly he shall be saved ; — and
that there is no error which may necessitate or war
rant any man to disturb the peace or renounce the
communion of it. This in my opinion is all intended
by subscription."'^ This practical and sensible ground
he had previously repudiated in his letter to Dr
Sheldon ; but further reflection had convinced him
of its soundness.^ With his convictions there was
indeed no other ground on which he could serve the
Church of England or any other Church. There
are certain minds — and Chillingworth's was one of
them — that see difficulties in every argumentative
form of doctrine. Their rational inquisitiveness
makes them acutely sensitive to the limits of human
knowledge in all directions ; and the dogmatic mean
ings which human controversy has imposed upon the
simple creed of the Gospel strongly repel and at
times disturb them. These meanings may or may
not be true ; God alone knoweth. But what such
minds feel is, that they are not for man to settle ;
they are in their nature not matters of faith, but
matters of doubt and controversy; and they are
therefore properly open questions which all should
be left to settle humbly for themselves in the light of
' Pref. to Rei. of Protestants, i. 35. ^ See preceding note.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 289
Holy Scripture. No Church heretofore has been so
wise in this respect as the Church of England. Even
Laud appreciated religious difficulties too well not to
welcome such service as Chillingworth's, under what
ever reserves It might be rendered. And Chilling
worth felt himself at length able to serve the Church
of England, notwithstanding his scruples. " I am
ready to subscribe," he virtually said, " to all that in
my opinion is or can be intended by subscription. I
belong to the Church of England. I have not only
no wish to renounce her communion, but I am willing
to be her minister, supposing that It is enough that
I approve generally of her doctrine. This approval
Is what I design by subscribing the Articles. In
these Articles good men of former times have done
what they could to express their highest Christian
thought against the perversions of heretical curiosity.
They would have succeeded better if they in their
turn had been less curious — if they had refrained
from defining where Scripture Itself has refrained ;
but, upon the whole, I acknowledge their doctrine, or
at least I have no wish to dispute It. I accept the
Articles as articles of peace." ^ Whether subscrip
tion can ever mean more than this to certain minds,
may be held doubtful. It must also be admitted
that it does mean more to others, and that there are
even minds which do not understand this point of
view, but really see, in controversial statements of
former times — every word of which to the historical
theologian bears trace of forgotten conflict— an ex
pression of devout faith, rather than a triumph of
^ Pref. to Rei. of Protestants, i. 167.
VOL. I. T

i290 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
dogma. The "difficulty is as to the co-operation of
these two classes in the great work of the Christian
Church. The uninquisitive, unreflecting faith which
accepts without hesitation the dogmatic decisions of
the fourth and fifth, and even of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, can it harmonise with the
critical faith which reads as in sunlight all the weak
nesses and exaggerations of these decisions, and
cannot help acknowledging them ? The question
is a vital one for the Christian Church. The rights
of faith are beyond challenge; but criticism surely
has also its rights ; and if they cannot live and work
together, the Church of the future seems a somewhat
dark and hopeless puzzle.
Chillingworth soon began to pay the wonted pen
alty of having thoughts of his own about religion.
This reasoner who had reasoned himself into Popery,
and reasoned himself back to Protestantism, and who
had doubts about the Athanasian Creed and the
Fourth Commandment, and even the necessity of
creeds altogether — was he not plainly a Socinian ?
There seemed no other way of accounting for his
changes and scruples. He must certainly be held to
be a dangerous person, against whom the public
should be cautioned, lest he lead them astray
by his arguments. Such was the device of his
opponents. Hearing that he was engaged in a
defence of Protestantism, it seemed an ingenious
plan to prejudice the public against him by accusing
him of Socinianism ; and the Jesuit to whose book he
was replying accordingly issued a pamphlet entitled,
" Directions to be observed by N. N. if he means to

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 291
proceed in answering the book entitled ' Mercy and
Truth, or Charity maintained by Catholics.' " ^
This pamphlet is little else than a series of scur
rilous insinuations. Diverse common heresies, espe
cially Socinianism, are imputed to Chillingworth, and
he is counselled to " declare his own opinions plainly
and particularly, and not think to satisfy by a mere
destructive way of objecting such difficulties as upon
examination tend to the overthrow of all religion, no
less than of Catholic doctrine." ^ The trick, common
to religious partisans, is cleverly employed of repre
senting him, in virtue of his questioning convictions
and rational hesitations, as being opposed to all
supernatural verity and sound doctrine. He has
scrupled at the Athanasian Creed ; he is represented
as destroying " the belief of the most blessed Trinity,
the deity of our dear Lord and Saviour, and of the
Holy Ghost ; original sin, and diverse other doctrines
which all good Christians believe ; yea, and all be
sides that cannot be proved by natural reason." ^
He has questioned the infallibility of the Pope, and
he is represented as " overthrowing the infallibility
of all Scripture, both of the Old and New Testa
ment." * He is asked to answer whether " his argu
ments lead not to prove an impossibility of all di
vine, supernatural, infallible faith, and religion that
either hath been, or is, or shall be, or possibly can
be." It might have been thought that it remained
to later times to invent the ingenious mode of theo
logical warfare, which consists in calling your op-
1 Maizeaux, p. 106. ° Ibid., p. 127.
2 Ibid., p. 127. ' Ibid., p. 128.

292 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
ponent an infidel ; and because he does not accept
your view of the Gospel, alleging that he does not
believe the Gospel at all. But the device is really
a very old one. It certainly was not unknown to
the seventeenth century ; and Chillingworth had to
bear the brunt of it in a very painful form.
But whatever pain he may have suffered, he was
not to be deterred from his task. The Jesuit had
Invited all to contemplate the sort of champion
to which Protestantism was reduced. " What
greater advantage," he asked, " could we wish against
Protestants than that they should trust their cause
and possibility to be saved to such a champion ? "
But the champion was all the while, amid the aca
demic quiet of Oxford and the retirement of Great
Tew, preparing his armoury for the encounter. He
was not a man to be daunted by the mere abuse of
fanaticism. Popish or Puritan. He knew his own
mind too well ; the subject filled and animated him
by its highest inspirations ; he saw in it a great argu
ment at once for divine truth and human freedom.
And at the end of 1637 he gave to the light ' The
Religion of Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation ; or,
An Answer to a Book entitled " Mercy and Truth,
or Charity maintained by Catholics." '
This great work claims a separate and detailed
examination. In the mean time we follow out the
thread of Chillingworth's personal history to its sad
close. After the publication of the ' Religion of Protest
ants' — which, strangely enough, met the approval not

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 293
only of Archbishop Laud but the King — Chilling
worth was offered, and accepted, the chancellorship
of Sarum, along with the prebend of Brixworth ^
(Brixlesworth) ; and in the year 1640 he represented
the Chapter of Salisbury as their proctor in Convo
cation.^ In this manner he became a party to the
subsidy voted to the King by Convocation, a vote
which greatly incensed the House of Commons.
This appears to have been his first step towards a
more close association with the Royalist party in the
impending troubles. It is not easy for us to analyse
or appreciate all the motives which influenced Chil
lingworth in this great crisis. All his personal pre
dilections and feelings, like those of his friend Lord
Falkland, were strongly enlisted on the side of order ;
and, whatever may have been his rational distrust of
many ofthe principles put forward by the Royalists, he
was still more widely separated both by rational con
viction and personal feeling from the opposite party.
He failed, like his friend Hales, to appreciate the
great movement of political liberty with which Puri
tanism was identified ; he failed even more remark
ably to see that there was a close affinity between
this movement and the religious liberty so dear to
him — an affinity equally unrecognised by the major
ity of Puritans themselves, but not the less real
because unseen by so many on both sides. On
the other hand, the characteristic dogmatisms of
Puritanism were strongly distasteful to him. Its intol
erance revolted him. Yet, withal, we wonder at his
' Maizeaux, p. 265. " Ibid., p. 267.

294 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
zeal, and are touched with pity at his fate. We
admire, and yet we mourn for, him, as for Falkland.
Strange that the friends who had so often speculated
on the course of events — who had marked the ex
cesses and risen far above the prejudices of either
side — should have been thus hurried Into the thick
of the conflict, and perished before its real issues had
become apparent !
A sermon preached by Chillingworth before his
Majesty at Oxford, in 1643-4, the first in the series
of nine -which form the most part of the third vol
ume of the Oxford edition of his works, gives us
the only Insight into his views and feelings at this
time. We can see very well from It that while there
is no wavering in his personal devotion to the cause
which he had embraced, and while his sentiments
towards the king personally seem to have been those
of true affection, he yet recognises the gloomy char
acter of the crisis, and how much there was on both
sides to alienate and offend sober-minded Christian
men. " Publicans and sinners on one side," he says,
" against Scribes and Pharisees on the other. On
the one side hypocrisy, on the other profaneness.
No honesty nor justice on the one side, and very little
piety on the other. On the one side horrible oaths,
curses, and blasphemies ; on the other pestilent lies,
calumnies, and perjury. When I see among them
the pretence of reformation, if not the desire, pur
sued by anti-Christian, Mahometan, devilish means ;
and amongst us little or no zeal for reformation of
what is indeed amiss ; little or no care to remove
the cause of God's anger towards us by just, lawful,

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 295
and Christian means, I profess plainly that I cannot
without trembling consider what is likely to be the
event of these distractions." There is the same tone
of half despair here which made Falkland lay down
his life on the field of Newbury, "weary" of the
times, and foreseeing much misery to his country.
It would have been well for Chillingworth if he
had perished like his friend in battle. What must
be considered a harder fate was reserved for him.
There is something so singular in the story of his
death, the persecution to which he was subjected,
and the circumstances attending his burial, that we
have some difficulty In comprehending and crediting
them. All, however, seems to rest on undoubted
evidence. Chillingworth had accompanied the king's forces
to the siege of Gloucester (Aug. 1643).-' He was
not content to be a mere spectator of the warlike
movements, but, observing that the army wanted
materials for carrying on the siege, he suggested the
invention of some engines after the manner of the
Roman testudines cum pluteis, in order to storm the
place.^ What might have been the effect of these
engines it Is impossible to tell, for the advance of
the Parliamentary forces under Essex compelled the
Royalists to raise the siege. In the end of the same
year, Chillingworth, " out of kindness and respect to
the Lord Hopton,"^ accompanied him in a march
into Sussex, where he took and garrisoned Arundel
Castle. " Being indisposed by the terrible coldness
of the season," Chillingworth remained with the
1 Maizeaux, p. 280. " Ibid. ' Clarendon, b. viii. p. 472.

296 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH :, THE BIBLE
garrison, which was but ill provided with supplies,
and soon broke into factions. It was in consequence
easily recaptured by Sir William Waller ; and Chil
lingworth, out of health and out of spirits, became a
prisoner. He continued so ill that he could not be
removed with the garrison to London, but was con
veyed to Chichester. This act of kindness he is
said to have owed to a person painfully associated
with his last days — Francis Cheynell, a noted
Puritan divine of his day, but whose name is now
entirely forgotten. He had been a Fellow of Mer
ton College, and, according to Dr Calamy, possessed
considerable learning and abilities. The fact of his
having been appointed one of the Assembly of
Divines at Westminster may perhaps be taken In
evidence of this. Whatever may have been his
previous training at Merton, he had now developed
not merely into a zealous Presbyterian, but, as one
describes him, a " rigid, zealous Presbyterian, exactly
orthodox, very unwilling that any should be suf
fered to go to heaven but In the right way." In
the beginning of this same year he had published
a tract on the ' Rise, Growth, and Danger of So
cinianism,' ^ in which, along with others, Chilling
worth was violently assailed. The principles of the
' Religion of Protestants ' are repudiated in this tract
' The full title of this tract is, Archbishop of Canterbury and his
' The Rise, Growth, and Danger adherents is not the true, pure
of Socinianism. Together with a Protestant Religion, but an Hotch-
plain discovery of a desperate de- potch of Arminianism, Socinian-
sign of corrupting the Protestant ism, and Popery.' This pamphlet
Religion, whereby it appears that "^^.s printed by order ofthe House
the Religion which hath been so of Commons in 1643 !
violently contended for by the

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 297
as destructive and unchristian, and the allowing
a chance of salvation to the Papists is denounced
as a miserable weakness. It was Chillingworth's
unhappy fate to encounter this violent dogmatist
after the capture of Arundel Castle ; and it is to
Cheynell's own pen that we owe the description
of his conduct, which would be otherwise quite in
credible. His narrative bears the following title,
which of itself is a revelation of the character of the
man : " Chillingworthi Novissima : or the sickness,
heresy, death, and burial of William Chillingworth ;
(in his own phrase) Clerk of Oxford, and in the
conceit of his fellow - soldiers, the Queen's Arch
Engineer and Grand Intelligencer. Set forth in a
letter to his eminent and learned friends. A relation
of his apprehension at Arundel, a discovery of his
errors in a brief catechism, and a short oration at
the burial of his heretical book, by Francis Cheynell,
late Fellow of Merton College."^ Then a secondary
and more special title is annexed to the epistle or
dedication to Chillingworth's friends ;— among them,
Prideaux, Bishop of Worcester ; Sheldon, afterwards
archbishop; Dr Potter; and Morley, Canon of Christ
Church ; — namely, " A brief and plain relation of Mr
Chillingworth's sickness, death, and burial, together
with a just censure of his work, by a discovery of his
errors, collected and framed Into a kind of Atheistical
Catechism fit for Racovia or Cracovia, and may well
serve for the instruction of the Irish, Welsh, Dutch,
French, Spanish army in England, and especially
for the black regiment at Oxford."^
1 Maizeaux, p. 315, 316. ' Ibid., p. 319, 320.

298 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
Such Is the extraordinary title of one of the most
extraordinary pamphlets that even the blind and
mad rancour of religious zeal ever produced — a truly
ludicrous as well as melancholy instance of religious
madness. The tract sets out with a low gossiping
narrative of Chillingworth's unpopularity with the
officers of the royal army, as being supposed to be
the Queen's intelligencer, and as interfering unne
cessarily with his advice in their warlike councils.
A gentleman is represented as Informing Cheynell
that Chillingworth was so " confident of his great wit
and parts, that he conceived himself able to manage
martial affairs, in which he hath no experience, by
the strength of his own wit and reason. You may
forgive him," adds our divine; " for though I hope to
be saved by faith, yet Master Chillingworth hopes
that a man may be saved by reason ; and therefore
you may well give him leave to fight by reason."
And so on.
We are then told what care Mr Cheynell took of
the poor sick man's body. There is no reason to
doubt apparently his being animated by a certain
kindness of heart. But while he took care of his
body, he "dealt freely and plainly with his soul."
" When I came again to him " (after he had given
Chillingworth a brief period to refresh himself in his
sickness), " I asked him whether he was fit for dis
course ; he told me Yes, but somewhat faintly. I
certified him that I did not desire to take him at the
lowest, when his spirits were flatted and his reason
disturbed." Having the great reasoner in his power,
he thirsted to engage him in argument, ill and feeble

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 299
as he was. He would not take him at a disadvan
tage, yet his orthodox ardour could not be restrained.
Chillingworth was not the man to shrink from argu
ment while he could, and dying as he was, he re
sponded to the invitation to defend himself Accord
ing to Cheynell's statement, he made various conces
sions regarding the war which were satisfactory, and
he was moved to spare him further disputation ; but,
nevertheless, their controversy continued till the Puri
tan finally pressed Chillingworth with some statement
he had made against the course taken by Parliament,
that " war is not the way of Jesus Christ." " What !"
asked the Puritan ; " are not the saints to make war
against the whore and the beast ? Is it not an act of
faith to wax valiant in fight for the defence of that
faith which was once delivered to the saints ? " "I
perceived," he adds, "my gentleman somewhat
puzzled, and I took my leave that he might take his
rest."^ " I gave him many visits after this first visit," adds
our pamphleteer, " but I seldom found him in a fit
case for discourse, because he grew weaker and
weaker." It seems a hard fate, even for a disputant
like Chillingworth, to have been killed by such a
merciless process. Day by day his sickness grew,
and the vanity of all human talk must have seemed
more and more to him ; but the Puritan's voice gave
him no peace ; the Puritan's zeal flamed the more
hotly as the great reasoner seemed passing beyond
the strife of tongues — "to where, beyond those
voices, there is peace." 1 Maizeaux, p. 326.

300 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
He expressed a disinclination to argue the merits
or demerits of the Book of Common Prayer. " I
was sorry," says Cheynell, " to hear such an answer
from a dying man." " When I found him pretty
hearty one day," he pursues, " I desired him to tell
me whether he conceived that a man living and dy
ing a Turk, Papist, or Socinian, could be saved ?
All the answer I could gain from him was, that he
did not absolve them and would not condemn," — an
indecision which was far from satisfactory. The
dying man besought an interest In the charity of his
disputant, for, saith he, " I was ever a charitable
man." " My answer was somewhat tart, and there
fore more charitable, considering his condition and
the counsel of the apostle (Tit. i. 13) : ' Rebuke
them sharply, that they may be sound in the faith.'
And I desire not to conceal my tartness. It was to
this effect. ' Sir, it is confessed that you have been
very excessive in your charity. You have lavished
so much charity upon Turks, Socinians, Papists, that
I am afraid you have very little to spare for a truly
reformed Protestant' "
It is a curious and painful picture which the zeal
ous divine draws of himself Seldom have the con
trasts which religion may present been more singu
larly exhibited. Let us rejoice that it is not unmixed
by some genuine traits of human kindliness. While
he spared not the soul, Cheynell carefully consulted
for the bodily relief of the dying theologian, whose
heresies were yet so damnable to him. " I sent to
a chirurgeon, one of Mr Chillingworth's belief, an
able man, that pleased him well and gave him some

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 301
ease, and I desired the soldiers and' citizens that
they would in their prayers remember the distressed
state of Mr C, a sick prisoner in the city, a man
very eminent for the strength of his parts, the excel
lency of his gifts, and the depths of his learning.
We prayed heartily that God would bless all means
which were used for his recovery; that He would be
pleased to bestow saving graces as well as excellent
gifts ; that He would give him new light and new
eyes that he might see, acknowledge, and recant his
errors, that he might deny his carnal reason and sub
mit to faith. I told him that I did use to pray for
him in private, and asked him whether it was his
desire that I should pray for him in public. He
answered Yes, with all his heart ; and he said, withal,
that he hoped he should fare the better for my
prayers." The heart owns to some softening here. The
humanity Is not all absorbed, even beneath the hard
ening scales of such divinity as Cheynell's. Yet the
tenderness is but for a moment. It soon disappears ;
and the very last hours of the dying man are not
sacred from coarse intrusion. Nay, the theologian
seems to have reinforced his own polemical energy
by a " certain religious officer of Chichester garrison,
who followed my suit to Mr Chillingworth, and en
treated him to declare himself In point of religion ;
but Mr Chillingworth appealed to his book again,
and said that he was settled and resolved, and there
fore did not desire to be further troubled." He
expressed a wish to be Interred, If possible, according
to the custom of the Church of England — If not, the

302 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
Lord's will be done. And so he departed into " the
silent land." He fell asleep, and was taken to that
rest which, like many others before and since, he had
not fotmd on earth amidst the strife of tongues and
the noise of theological captains shouting for battle.
He died in January 1644 ; the day of his death is
not exactly known.
If Mr Cheynell's narrative had stopped here, it
would have been painfully interesting enough, but
not so absolutely startling as it really is. The most
extraordinary part remains. Now that the heresi-
arch, who would not explicitly recant his errors on
his death-bed, was dead, how was he to be buried ?
There were three opinions, he says : " The ist.
Negative and peremptory that he ought not to be
buried like a Christian, seeing that he had refused to
make a free and full confession of the Christian reli
gion, and had taken up arms against his country.
2d, That being a member of a cathedral, he should
be buried in the cathedral ; being Cancellarius he
should be intra Cancellos. And 3d, The opinion
which prevailed that the men of his own persua
sion, out of mere humanity, should be permitted to
bury their dead out of our sight, and to inter him
in the cloisters among the old shavelings, monks,
and priests, of whom he had so good an opinion all
his life."
Accordingly, Chillingworth was laid by his own
people in the cloisters of Chichester Cathedral. "As
devout Stephen was carried to his burial by devout
men, so is it just and agreed," says Cheynell, " that
malignants should carry malignants to their grave."

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 303
He takes care to tell us also that there were no
torches or candles at the grave ; for the Christians,
according to TertuUian, " used no such custom, al
though the heathens did, and the anti-Christians now
do." There was a scene, however, prepared by Mr
Cheynell himself, far more expressive than any pro
cession of torches or candles.
" When the malignants," says he, " brought his
hearse to the burial, I met them at the grave with
Master Chillingworth's book in my hand," and there,
with a speech which he recounts, he buried the book
while they buried its author. " If they please to un
dertake the burial of his corpse, I shall undertake to
bury his errors, which are published In this so much
admired yet unworthy book ; and happy would it be
for the kingdom if this book and all its fellows could
be so buried. Get thee gone, thou cursed book,
which hast seduced so many precious souls ! get thee
gone, thou corrupt rotten book ! Earth to earth
and dust to dust ! Get thee gone into the place of
rottenness, that thou mayest rot with thy author, and
see corruption ! "
So spoke a Christian divine, in the middle of
the seventeenth century — a member of the West
minster Assembly, afterwards placed at the head of
St John's College, Oxford, where Laud not many
years before had been president — of the ' Religion
of Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation.' Words
would fail to do justice to the painfulness of the pic
ture. Let us rather draw down on it the merciful
veil of silence. It needs not criticism ; it baffles it.
Yet it was meet that the veil should be lifted. If only

304 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
for a moment, to show how ugly religious zeal may
become — how hateful it looks even across two
centuries as It stood and cursed by the grave of
ChllllngAvorth !
Of Chillingworth's personal character it is unne
cessary to add much. Clarendon's sketch is graphic,
like all his other sketches ; but it leaves a good deal
to be desired, and certainly Is not touched, as we have
already hinted, with any special tenderness. The
fondness with which he lingers over the portrait of
Falkland, and even of Hales, no longer softens his
pen. He does justice, however, to Chillingworth's
" great subtility of understanding," his " incomparable
power of reason," and " admirable eloquence of lan
guage." He commends, moreover, his " rare temper
In debate." " It was Impossible to provoke him into
any passion ; " and so, he adds, " It was very difficult
to keep a man's self from being a little discomposed
by his rare sharpness and quickness of argument."
His almost unrivalled power of touching the weak
ness of other minds who ventured to dispute with
him, combined with such a faculty of composure on
his own side, may have made Chillingworth some
what unpopular, and even unamiable beyond his own
circle. He certainly had the capacity of exciting
intense asperity in his opponents. It is impossible,
withal, to doubt that he was a man of generous im
pulses and true warm-heartedness — an earnest, fear
less, able man, with the higher tenderness which is
seldom dissociated from true courage — incapable of
a mean thought, and ready to make any sacrifices
for what he deemed the truth. When he heard of

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 305
Falkland's death at Newbury, " he wept bitterly for
the loss of his dear friend." As to what Claren
don says of his " inconstancy " and " propensity to
change" — this is merely the natural view which a
statesman and a man of the world takes of a rest
lessly inquisitive intellect, whose thoughts he cannot
measure. There was no " levity" In any of Chilling
worth's changes. They were only varying attitudes
of spiritual aspiration. The same deep sincerity and
sleepless search after truth, animate and guide him-
throughout. Of his personal appearance we have indications
both from Clarendon and Aubrey ; but there Is no
portrait of him, as far as we know. He was, the
former says, " of a stature little superior to Mr Hales.
It was an age in which there were many great and
wonderful men of that size." " He was a little man,"
says Aubrey, with " blackish hair, of a saturnine
countenance." II. ' The Religion of Protestants' is Chillingworth's
great work, by which alone he can be said to be
remembered. It sums up all his thought, and has
taken Its place in English literature as a monument
of Christian genius. His other writings are com
paratively unimportant, as they are comparatively
unknown. A few sermons — nine in all ; a series of
tracts under the name of ' Additional Discourses ' —
most of them mere sketches, or studies for his great
work ; and a brief fragment, more significant than
the rest, entitled ' The Apostolical Institution of
Episcopacy Demonstrated,' — comprise the whole.
The sermons are marked by the vigour both of
VOL. I. U

306 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
thought and language which is always characteristic
of him, but are not in any special manner Interesting
or valuable. They contain nothing which would
have preserved his name from oblivion, and but
little to remind us of the bold thought of ' The
Religion of Protestants.' In a still less degree than
the few sermons of Hooker attract notice beside
' The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity,' do Chilling
worth's sermons serve to draw attention away from
the work with which his name has become identified.
The tract on Episcopacy possesses a distinct value,
as showing the liberal direction of the author's mind
on a subject in which his feelings, education, and the
eventful turns of his life, strongly interested him.
He had not only been trained an Episcopalian in the
school of Laud, but all his natural love of order and
ardent affection to the royal cause had enlisted his
sympathies on behalf of the existing government of
the Church. But no degree of personal preposses
sion is able to obscure in him the light of rational
thought on this any more than on the general sub
ject of religion. Episcopacy is to him in its essen
tials " no more but this " — " an appointment of one
man of eminent sanctity and sufficiency to have the
care of all the churches within a certain precinct or
diocese, and furnishing him with authority (not ab
solute or arbitrary, but regulated and bounded by
laws, and moderated by joining to him a convenient
number of assistants), to the extent that all the
churches under him may be provided of good and
able pastors, and that both of pastors and people
conformity to laws and performance of their duties

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 307
may be required." Such a form of government, he
maintains, " is not repugnant to the government set
tled in and for the Church by the Epistles," nor is it
incompatible " with the reformation of any evil, either
in Church or State, or the introduction of any good "
which it may be desirable to introduce. The brief
argument of the tract is confined to the " demonstra
tion" of the first of these propositions, and is through
out of the most moderate and reasonable character.
He quotes the evidence of " two great defenders of
Presbytery," Mollnsus (Dumoulin) and Beza, in
favour of Episcopacy being the recognised order of
Church government " presently after the apostles'
times," and draws the usual inference from this ad
mitted antiquity on behalf of its being the institution
of the apostles themselves. With the validity of such
an inference it is unnecessary to concern ourselves.
It appeared to Chillingworth's mind in every re
spect a fair and dispassionate one. In the light of
which the anti-Episcopal dogmatism of the Puritan
Presbyterian party seemed utterly unreasonable. To
vindicate the institution of Episcopacy from the abuse
of this party, and show its claims to a rational historic
standing, is the sole aim of his argument, in which
aim he is completely successful. Any further claim
for it as a positive jus divinum, is inconsistent alike
with his object in the tract, and with the whole tone
of his thought and reasoning.
It now remains for us to consider his chief work,
' The Religion of Protestants a Safe Way to Salva
tion.' This work presents itself to our examination
in two points of view : first, in Its general intel-

308 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
lectual and literary character ; and, secondly, in its
substantive argument and meaning, or, in other
words. In reference to the great principles which it
sets forth. It might be further considered in its con
troversial details, some of which are aside from the
main purpose of the work, and well deserving of at
tention as illustrative of its logical method and force.
But as our purpose in these sketches is not to revive
controversy or to adjust rivalries long since for
gotten, but only to fix the significant ideas which
have influenced the course of religious thought and
permanently enriched it. It Is unnecessary as it would
be useless for us to go over the particular points in
the polemic between our author and his Jesuit op
ponent, further than it may be important, to do so
for our general purpose.
I. ' The Religion of Protestants' claims first to
be considered by us as one of the most notable pro
ductions of English literature. What are its claims
to occupy such a position ? What are the distin
guishing characteristics of its thought and style ? In
judging it from our modern standard in such matters,
we are struck at first by a certain imperfection and
clumsiness of form arising out of its controversial
purpose. The reader is naturally anxious to get
Into the heart of the subject and see what a writer
of such name has to say about it — what are the
strong points of his argument — and how he lays
them down and expounds them in relation to one
another. In a modern book on the subject, of any
remarkable ability, we would probably find our
selves thus carried to the centre of interest at once,

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS, 309
and made to recognise the great lines of thought char
acteristic of the opposing sides, and the claims that
the one rather than the other has to his following.
The modern mind, whatever it may have lost, has
certainly gained in organising power — In the capa
city of surveying a subject in Its whole outline, and
disposing of it in proportion to the relative import
ance of its details. In controversial literature par
ticularly this has been a great gain. It has tended
to fix attention upon the real differences of thought
out of which all minor differences spring, and to
deliver the reader from mazes of detailed argumen
tation, which, however ably conducted, have often
little or no bearing upon the main points at issue.
In Chillingworth's time, controversy, and especially
theological controversy, was still a conflict of details.
It is one of his excellences that he is superior in this
respect to many of his contemporaries. Yet, with
all his advance, ' The Religion of Protestants '
suffers greatly from being in form a detached reply
to a forgotten book. The reader has to wade
through, in successive chapters, the arguments of the
author of ' Charity Maintained ; ' ^ and in many cases,
also, the statements of Dr Potter, to which the
Jesuit's work was a reply.^ The real pith of the sub
ject is only reached sometimes after all these repeat
ed processes of statement and reply, when the author
is at liberty to follow the unembarrassed course of
his own thought.
The work opens with a preface addressed to the
author of ' Charity Maintained,' mainly in answer to
' His Jesuit opponent, Knott. ^ See preceding page.

310 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
a pamphlet entitled by him 'A Direction to N.N.'
This preface, as we formerly remarked, is full of
interest for the light which it throws on the forma
tion of Chillingworth's opinions, and is marked by
great dignity and elevation of tone. Then follows
the preface of the author of ' Charity Maintained,'
and Chillingworth's reply to this, anticipatory of
many points upon which he afterwards dwells more
fully. Then In succession, through seven chapters,
the argument of his Jesuit opponent is given first,
and his answer in detail follows. Every point is
carefully met, and amidst so many minute particulars
of argument there is necessarily a good deal of re
currence of thought. The reader gets impatient of
interruptions, and of the multitude of steps by which
he advances to the close of the controversy.
It is obvious that only rare attributes of thought
and style could have risen above these disadvan
tages of form, and given unity and life to such an
accumulated mass of controversy. But we have
scarcely opened the book when we see evidence
of these. We find ourselves in contact with an
intellect of singular strength and brightness, of
clearly penetrative and powerful thoughtfulness,
which grasps the whole subject, and moves uncon-
fused amidst its details. Strength and earnestness
— genuine grasp of mind and large intelligence —
are Chillingworth's highest characteristics. Some
minds have shown more extent of scope, and cer
tainly far more richness and glow of speculative com
prehension, in conducting a great argument. In
these respects Hooker Is incomparably superior ; and

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 31I
Jeremy Taylor, in his ' Liberty of Prophesying,'
moves with a freer and more sustained air. But
neither Hooker nor Taylor equals our author in mere
mass and energy of mind, and the masculine robust
ness and downright honesty generally associated
with such simple strength. The very height at
which more imaginative writers sometimes soar gives
a certain Indistinctness to their thought ; it gains In
colouring and impressiveness at the expense of plain
outline and meaning. But the meaning of Chilling
worth is always plain, and always strong. He evades
no difficulties, and never flinches for fear of conse
quences ; he grapples hardily with every statement
of his opponent, meets it with the pure force of
reason, and brings it to the ground without any
hesitation. He Is ready for battle at every point,
and has never any doubt of the keenness of his
weapons or the force of his blows.
Next to the strength and straightforwardness
of his intellect, his most remarkable characteristic
is fairness. No fairer controversialist, we believe,
ever entered the lists. He never takes an undue
advantage of his opponent. He is tender to him
personally, while unsparing to his arguments. He
had himself been caught in the toils amongst which
the Jesuit was struggling, and while he pursues and
unwinds the entanglements one by one, he never
does so in a contemptuous spirit. His magnanimity
is beautiful, considering the character of the attacks
to which he was subjected by Romanists and
Puritans alike. He grows warm and indignant at
times, and he uses firm language, especially when he

312 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
resents "the imputation of atheism and Irreligion;"^
but he never smites as they sought to smite him.
We know of no personality that ever escaped his
pen. A half-tender, half-compassionate " God for
bid I should think the like of you," or, " For God's
sake free yourself from the blind zeal for a little
space," ^ is the utmost to which he yields. Of all
theologians of the seventeenth century, of any cen
tury perhaps, Chillingworth is one of the most thor
oughly fair, candid, and open-minded. Temporarily
a convert to Romanism, and actually for a while the
inmate of a Jesuit seminary, the transparency of his
manly and earnest spirit is never for a moment
dimmed. The same love of the truth, and the
same keenness in Its search, inspire him from first
to last. The idea of upholding a system merely
because he had embraced it, or an institution be
cause he happened to belong to it, would have
been unintelligible to him. His mind could rest in
nothing short of clear and definitely-reasoned con
victions. He must see the truth for himself, and be
able to give some reason for it — why he held to it
and why he rejected the contrary. It was this that
made men who misunderstood his point of view
accuse him of inconstancy in religion, and allege
that, according to his principles, "a man could be
constant in no religion." ^ As he could not un
derstand a mere blind adherence to any system,
merely because he had once accepted it, so they
1 Vol. i. p. 8, Oxford ed. (All "^ Letter to Mr Lewgar, Maiz-
the references are to this edi- eaux's Life, p. 32.
tion.) ° Maizeaux's Life, p. 18.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 313
could not understand his continual Inquisitiveness
and determination to see the truth more clearly.
" Why constantly be asking what is the sense of
Scripture ? What religion is best ? What Church
purest ? Come, do not wrangle, but believe." This,
which is virtually what his Puritan opponent said to
him, represents the alternative state of mind. Ac
cording to a commonplace of almost all religious
parties, a man Is supposed to be unsettled in religion
if he Is constantly asking questions, if his mind is
restlessly moving towards what seems to him a
higher light ; while the religious Inquirer, on the
other hand, has no idea of religion which does not
involve constant inquest and movement. It Is to
him of the very nature of religious thought to be
always moving — to be always rising, and so chang
ing Its relation to human systems. Certainly Chil
lingworth's mind was of this order. Truth was to
him one, but its very simplicity made it all the more
difficult to seize ; and while he kept his eye steadily
fixed on it, he was constantly readapting his attitude
towards It, and trying to get a clearer sight of it.^
^ He thus describes his own ther or no he was mistaken. The
changes in religion, very much same man afterwards, upon better
in the spirit we have described consideration, became a doubting
them here and in the preceding Papist, and of a doubting Papist
pages : " I know of a man that of a confirmed Protestant. Even
a moderate Protestant turned a yet this man thinks himself no
Papist, and the day that he did more to blame forall these changes
so (as all things that are done are than a traveller, who, using all
perfected some day or other) was diligence to find the right way to
convicted in conscience that his some remote city, where he had
yesterday's opinion was an error; never been (as this party I speak
and yet, methinks, he was no of had never been in heaven), did
schismatic for doing so, and de- yet mistake it, and after find his
sires to be informed by you whe- error and amend it. Nay, he

314 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH I THE BIBLE
It Is this earnest high-mindedness, this spirit of
healthy rationality, which gives such elevation, purity,
and dignity to Chillingworth's thought. He is supe
rior to all commonplace of his Church or school — all
mere professionalism. And nothing perhaps more
marks the great writer in any department than this
superiority. A writer who is unable to rise above
the level of his profession may be acute, learned,
and able ; he may be a great authority on his own
subject ; but he will never take a place in the
world of thought and literature. In order to do
this, he must show himself capable of rising above
traditional or official limits, and of perceiving the
truth In its own light, and vindicating it on the
highest grounds of reason. In all special depart
ments of intellectual work, and particularly In theo
logy, the highest minds have been of this order.
They have been thoroughly competent in their own
department, but also marked by a healthy openness
of thought in other directions. They have always
recognised something higher than professional canons
of opinion, and carried the breath of nature, so to
stands upon his justification so ous natures are of all the most ter-
far as to maintain that his altera- rible ; so that although there was
tions were the most satisfactory much weakness in some of these
actions to himself that ever he did, alterations, yet certainly there was
and the greatest victory that ever no wickedness. Neither does he
he obtained over himself and his yield hisweaknessaltogetherwith-
affections to those things which out apology, seeing his deductions
in this world are most precious ; were rational and out of some
as whereas for God's sake, and principles commonly received by
(as he was really persuaded) out Protestants as well as Papists, —
of love to the truth, he went upon and which by his education had
a certain expectation of these in- got possession of his understand-
conveniences, which to ungener- ing." — Vol. ii. chap. v. p. 259.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 315
Speak, and of universal reason. Into their work. It
is this which makes the distinction between such a
writer as Hooker and Andrews, for example ; the
latter — a man apparently of far more special ability
than Hooker (he is said to have been master of
fifteen languages), but infinitely inferior in breadth
and capacity of thought — forgotten, except by a few
theological students who turn occasionally to his
sermons ; while Hooker continues, and will ever
continue, one of the great classics of English litera
ture. It is this which distinguishes our author, and
sets him far above most of his theological contem
poraries, either Anglican or Puritan — Hammond or
Sanderson on the one side, and Owen, to take the
very highest example, on the other. In contrast to
such writers, Chillingworth is a man of general and
not merely of special theological culture. He shows
himself capable not merely of handling particular
doctrinal points after the best manner of his school,
and of bringing logical skill and erudition to bear
upon their support and illustration, but, moreover,
of dealing with questions In their most generalised
intellectual shape, and of bringing them to the test
of the higher reason of all men. And so it is that
' The Religion of Protestants,' like ' The Laws of
Ecclesiastical Polity,' has an unfading interest to the
common educated intellect, and not merely to the
theological student. It remains, although In a less
degree than the great work of Hooker, a living force
in general literature — a permanent monument of
thought marking the advance of the human mind in
the loftiest of all directions.

3l6 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
It Is especially this higher thoughtfulness, this
touch of light from the altitudes of a divine philo
sophy, which gives any life to theological polemics.
However able, ingenious, or successful for the time
an argumentative work may be, if it have nothing of
this — If it never soar beyond the confines of its
special subject, nor start any principles of general
application — it will be found to lose hold of the
succeeding generations, and gradually to pass from
the ranks of literature. It may be sought after and
highly prized by certain minds ; but the progressive
intelligence finds no meaning in it. It may have
served a cause, silenced an enemy, and even gained
a distinguished victory ; but it has done nothing to
advance the course of thought; it has opened no
tracks which have been further cleared and ex
panded ; and so it passes out of sight, and deserves
to do so, great as may have been its temporary
reputation. It is a distinct gain to literature that an
oblivion — frequently rapid, always sure — should thus
overtake the great mass of controversial writings,
which contain so little that is fitted to elevate or
enrich human thought. To be forgotten is their
happiest fate. But let a fair, generous, and noble
reason — like Hooker's or Chillingworth's — irradiate
a controversy, and it acquires permanent life and
interest. It becomes a mirror of higher truth, and
men return to it in after-generations to study the
principles which it helped to elucidate, and to refresh
themselves in its light.
The style of Chillingworth is the natural expres
sion of his thought — simple, strong, and earnest.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 317

occasionally rugged and vehement. Particularly
like his thought, it is without any artifice. He is
concerned with what he has to say, not with his
mode of saying it ; and having thrown aside almost
all the scholastic pedantries which In his time still
clung to theological style, he gives fair play to his
native sense and vigour. His vehemence Is apt to
hurry him into disorder, but also often breaks Into
passages of lofty and powerful eloquence. If we
compare his style with that of Hooker or Bacon,
it is inferior In richness, compass, and power, but
superior in flexibility, rapidity, and point. It turns
and doubles upon his adversary with an impetuosity
and energy that carry the reader along, and serve to
relieve the tedious levels of the argument. If he
must be ranked, upon the whole, greatly below such
writers as we have mentioned, he is yet in this, as in
other respects, much above most of his contemporary
divines. The pages of Laud, or of his biographer
Heylin, or even of Hammond, are barren and un
readable beside those of ' The Religion of Protest
ants ; ' and even the richer beauties of Taylor, em
bedded amidst many pedantries and affectations, pall
in comparison with his robust simplicity and energy.
With writers of the ordinary Westminster school,
like his opponent Cheynell, it would be absurd to
compare him : . they are utterly without grace, life, or
power. Even the best Puritan writers, like Howe
and Baxter, scarcely reach, in their best passages,
his manly and inspiriting eloquence.
2. Let us now turn to the argument of his work,
and especially to the principles on which it rests.

3l8 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
The main question which it raises Is the always vital
one as to the grounds of religiotis certitude. How
are we to know the truth in religion ? On what
basis must faith rest ? Who or what is the arbiter
of religious opinion ? This is the great issue be
tween him and his Romanist opponent. It is un
necessary for us, we have already said, to take up
the successive details of assault and retort between
them ; but it is important, for the sake of clearness,
to understand the manner In which they approach
each other — the line of their controversial march
towards the great principles in which the chief in
terest of the discussion lies.
After a detailed answer to the preface of the author
of ' Charity Maintained,' the argument opens with the
question of charity as between the two sides. Is it un
charitable for Papists to maintain that Protestants can
not be saved ? This had been the special question
between Knott the Jesuit and Dr Potter — the one
maintaining that " Protestancy unrepented destroys
salvation ; " the other, that " want of charity is justly
charged on all Romanists" who affirm this proposition.
Chillingworth takes up the controversy from this point.
The first pamphlet of Knott was published In 1630 ;
Potter's answer in 1633 ; and then in the following
year the Jesuit returned to the charge in ' Mercy and
Truth, or Charity maintained by Catholics ; ' and it
is to the successive chapters of this book, printed in
front of his own, that Chillingworth replies.
In his opening chapter the Jesuit holds to his point,
but not without the qualifications repeated to our own
day by all exclusive sacerdotalists, Anglican or Ro-

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 319
man : " Our meaning is not that we give Protestants
over to reprobation. We hope, we pray for their
conversion. . . . Neither is our censure directed to
particular persons. The tribunal of particular judg
ments Is God's alone." Want of opportunity of know
ing Catholic truth, want of capacity to understand it,
" light declaring to men their errors or contrition, re
tracting them in the moment of death," are allowed
as excuses. " In such particular cases," says Knott,
" we wish more apparent signs of salvation, but do
not give any dogmatical sentence of perdition."
In his answer, Chillingworth makes good use of
the concessions of his opponent as to the salvability
of Protestants. The question Is no longer, he says,
" simply whether Protestancy unrepented destroys
salvation, as it was at first proposed, but -whether
Protestancy in itself, apart from ignorance and con
trition, destroys salvation." Knott has admitted, in
short, that a Protestant may be saved, if he be either
an ignorant Protestant — not having had the means
or capacity of knowing any better — or if he join with
his Protestantism the " antidote of a general repent
ance." Though Protestants may not be saved at so
easy a rate as Papists, yet (even Papists being the
judges) they may obtain salvation. " Heaven Is not
inaccessible." " Their errors are not impracticable
isthmuses between them and salvation." Nothing
can be finer than the courteous sneer with which
Chillingworth points his reply here ; all the more
impressive that he seldom indulges In this vein.
" For my part," he says, " such is my charity to
you, that considering what great necessity you have.

320 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
as much as any Christian society In the world, that
the sanctuaries of ignorance and dependence should
always stand open, I can hardly persuade myself, so
much as in my most sacred consideration to divest
you of these so needful qualifications ; but whenso
ever your errors, superstitions, and impieties come
on to my mind, my only comfort Is that the doctrine
and practice too of repentance is yet remaining in
your Church ; and that though you put on a face of
confidence of your innocence in point of doctrine, yet
you will be glad to stand in the eye of many as well
as your fellows, and not be so stout as to refuse
either God's pardon or the king's."
He then engages to meet his opponent on the
more limited question — as he concludes it to be —
whether Protestantism possesses so much natural
malignity as to be In itself, apart from ignorance and
contrition, destructive of salvation ?
The combatants start with an acknowledged pro
position on both sides. Chillingworth grants that
there must be a " visible Church stored with all helps
necessary to salvation;" and further, that the Church
must have " sufficient means of determining all con
troversies in religion which are necessary to be de
termined." But "sufficient" is not with him the
same as " effectual" — a distinction, he urges, which
his opponent cannot overlook ; " for that the same
means may be sufficient for the compassing an end,
and not effectual, you must not deny, who hold that
God gives to all men sufficient means of salvation,
and yet that all are not saved." Nor is It requisite
that all controversies whatsoever, but only such as

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 32 1
involve salvation should be determined. Here, where
so much of the general argument is to rest, he discri
minates his ground carefully from the first. The end,
he says, must be the measure of the means here and
everywhere. " If I have no need to be at London, I
have no need of a horse to carry me thither. If I
have no need to fly, I have no need of wings. So if
I can be saved without knowing this or that defin
itely, I have no need to know it. The Church needa
no means for determining points in which salvation is
not involved. Is it necessary that all controversies
in religion should be determined, or is it not ? "
The question plainly put contains its own answer
even to the Romanist, in whose Church, as in all
Churches, many questions remain undetermined, or
open questions.
So far, therefore, there is common ground between
Chillingworth and his opponent. They advance up
to a certain point on the same line of argument
There must be a visible Church in possession of the
means of salvation. This primary generality raises
no discussion. Further, they agree that there must
be within the Church an arbiter of religious truth,
some " infallible " means of religious certitude. The
latter expression, with both writers, comes to the same
thing as the former : where there are " means of reli
gious certitude " there are " means of salvation ; " and
Chillingworth Is content to use the word " Infallible "
no less than his opponent^ But here the apparent
' The " means of deciding con- a universal infallibility in what it
troversies on faith and religion," propoundeth for a divine truth!'
he grants, " must be endued with P. i. c. i. Answer; vol. i. p. 113.
VOL. I. X

322 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
agreement between them proves to be entirely hol
low. The words they use have not the same mean
ing. Religious truth is not the same thing to each.
Their mode of reaching it is entirely different. The
question, in short, of the determination of religious
truth, or what is necessary to salvation, opens up
their antagonism from Its roots. All the other
points of their argument branch off from this, and
ere virtually settled by the conclusions to which
they come here. While avoiding the details of
the controversy, it may be useful to exhibit in
a table the course of discussion as it unfolds it
self in successive chapters. This may be stated
as follows, confining ourselves as much as possi
ble to the language used by Chillingworth and his
opponent : —
I. The question as to religious certitude, or " the
means whereby the truths of revelation are con
veyed to our understanding," and controversies in
faith and religion are determined.
II. The distinction of points fundamental and not
fundamental, whether it is pertinent in the contro
versy. III. The question whether the Apostles' Creed
contains all fundamental points, or " all points neces
sary to be believed."
IV. and V. Whether separation from the Church
of Rome constitutes schism and heresy ; and
VI. (which is a mere corollary from IV. and
v.). Whether Protestants are bound in charity to
themselves to become reunited to the Roman
Church.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 323
A mere glance at this table serves to show how
the whole controversy is really summed up in the
twofold question as to the source of religious truth,
and the character or sum of this truth. To this
question, therefore, as handled by our controversial
ists, we address ourselves. It assumes a very
speedy and direct issue. The source of religious
certitude — the infallible means of determining- reli-
gious truth — Knott says, is the Church ; by which,
of course, he means the Roman Catholic Church.
Take away the Roman principle of infallibility, and
all religion falls to the ground. " None can deny
the infallible authority of the Church," are his words ;
"but he must abandon all inspired faith and true
religion, if he but understand himself" Again^" If
the infallibility of such a public authority be once
impeached, what remains but that every man is
given over to his own wit and discourse ? " The
principle of Knott, therefore, was the principle of
the Church's infallible voice. Is any man In doubt ? —
let him ask the Church. The Church is divinely
authorised to pronounce what is true, and what every
man is therefore bound to believe. This principle,
whatever practical difficulties may be involved in
it, is at least, in its generality, intelligible and con
sistent. The position of Chillingworth as opposed to this
principle is the well-known Protestant adage, so
often quoted in his own words,^ " The Bible, and the
Bible only, is the religion of Protestants." The
Bible, not the Church, is the organ of religious
^ Vol. ii. chap. vi. p. 410.

324 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
truth, and the only rule of faith. This Is the Pro
testant principle, asserted by our author and pro
fessed by all Protestant Churches in its generality.
But the merit of Chillingworth, of course, does not
consist in his having enunciated this general prin
ciple. It did not remain for him to do this. It is
his interpretation of the principle which constitutes
all his distinction as a religious thinker — which
could alone have given him any distinction. It Is
plain, for example, that when it is said to a man, the
voice of the Church is authoritative, or, on the other
hand, the voice of Scripture Is authoritative, that the
man is not greatly helped in a practical point of
view. For he must then immediately ask. How am
I to be sure of the voice of the Church, or how am I
to be sure of the voice of Scripture ? It is here that
the real pinch lies. To take an illustration, there
are iiltra Anglo - Catholics who start from the
same principle as the Roman Catholics, with both
of whom the Church is always the last word ; but
then the question arises. Which is the Church ? and
here the Anglican High Churchman and the Roman
High Churchman separate. In a similar manner
with the Presbyterian and Independent, or still
more strikingly with the Calvinist and Arminian,
and even Socinian of the old type, alike, the Bible is
the last word — only the Bible. But then, not to
speak of the modern question, untouched by Chil
lingworth, What is the Bible ? the further question
at once arises. What is the voice of the Bible ? what
its true meaning ? and here these several classes of
Protestants separate. After having gained an ap-

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 325
parent certainty in the assertion of a general prin
ciple, uncertainty again begins. Admitting Scripture
to be the rule of faith, how are we to know the
meaning of Scripture ? Now it is here that Chil
lingworth has done real service. Here, where the
real difficulty lies, he has cleared up the question,
and settled It in the only way In which it can ever
be consistently settled by Protestants. We will
endeavour first to state his conclusions in our own
language as briefly as possible, and then quote
several passages from his work which set forth his
views fully.
Chillingworth has virtually said, There is no real
difficulty as to the meaning of Scripture. The great
principles of religion — what we are to believe con
cerning God, and what duty God requires of us — are
clearly revealed in the Bible. All Protestant Churches
have seen and acknowledged them. The Apostles'
Creed embraces them. They are patent to the
" right reason " (the expression is his own) and judg
ment of every man. The matters that separate
Christians, or at least Protestant Christians, are not
matters of faith — necessary elements of religious
truth pertaining to salvation — but matters of specu
lation on which Christians may differ safely or with
out any detriment to their spiritual condition. Such
is the position laid down by Chillingworth. He
disposes. In short, of the question of religious certi
tude, by reducing it to its simplest dimensions. The
proper objects — the only valid objects of religious
belief — according to him, are certain great facts or
principles which are plainly revealed or made known

326 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
to every open intelligence in Scripture. What lies
beyond these facts or principles is either in its
nature uncertain, or in its bearing unimportant.
Religious certitude, in short, can be reached by every
honest mind with Scripture before it. Where such
certitude is impossible, it Is unnecessary.
Let us now attend to Chillingworth's own state
ments, many of which are very significant They
are scattered over a wide surface, but we will endea
vour to exhibit them in such an order as to bring
out his meaning fully, and yet without exaggeration.
Speaking of Scripture in his second chapter as
" the only rule whereby to judge of controversies,"
he says that it is " sufficiently perfect and sufficiently
intelligible to all that have understanding, whether
they be learned or unlearned. And my reason
hereof is convincing and demonstrative, because
nothing is necessary to be believed but what is plainly
revealed. For to say that where a place, by reason
of ambiguous terms, lies indifferent between divers
senses whereof one is true and the other is false,
that God obliges man, under pain of damnation, not
to mistake through error and human frailty. Is to
make God a tyrant ; and to say that he requires us
certainly to attain that end, for the attaining whereof
we have no certain means, which is to say that, like
Pharaoh, He gives no straw, and requires brick ;
that He reaps where He sows not; that He gathers
where He strews not ; that He will not accept of us
according to that which we have, but requireth of us
what we have not . . . Shall we not tremble to

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 327
impute that to God which we would take as foul
scorn if it were imputed to ourselves ? Certainly I
for my part fear I should not love God if I should
think so strangely of Him." ^
" Again," he continues, addressing his opponent,
" when you say ' that unlearned and ignorant men
cannot understand Scripture,' I would desire you to
come out of the clouds and tell us what you mean ;
whether that they cannot understand all Scripture,
or that they cannot understand any Scripture, or that
they cannot understand so much as is sufficient for
their direction to heaven. If the first, — I believe the
learned are in the same case. If the second, — every
man's experience will confute you ; for who is there
who is not capable of a sufficient understanding of
the story, the precepts, the promises, and the threats
of the Gospel .¦* If the third, — that they may under
stand something, but not enough for their salvations;
I ask you, why then doth St Paul say to Timothy,
' The Scriptures are able to make him wise unto salva
tion ' ? Why doth St Austin say, Ea quce manifeste
posita sunt in Sacris Scripturis omnia continent quce
pertinent ad fidem moresque vivendi? Why does every
one of the four evangelists entitle their book, The
Gospel, if any necessary and essential part of the
Gospel were left out of it ? Can we imagine that
either they omitted something necessary out of igno
rance, not knowing it to be necessary ? or, knowing
it to be so, maliciously concealed it ? or, out of
negligence, did the work they had undertaken by
' i. 230, 231.

328 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
halves ? If none of these things can be imputed to
them, then certainly It must naturally follow that
every one writ the whole Gospel of Christ ; I mean
all the essential and necessary parts of it. So that
if we had no other book of Scripture than one of
them alone, we should not want anything necessary
to salvation."^
Elsewhere, In a previous part of the same chapter.
In reference to the statement that Scripture — admit
ting it to be a rule or law of faith — " is no more fit
to end controversies without a living judge, than the
law is alone to end such," he answers : " If the law
were plain and perfect, and men honest and desirous
to understand aright and obey it, he that says it were
not fit to end controversies, must either want under
standing himself, or think the world wants it Now
the Scriptures, we pretend, in things necessary, is
plain and perfect Such a law, therefore, cannot but
be very fit to end all controversies necessary to be
ended. For others that are not so, they will end
when the world ends, and that is time enough."^
He repudiates the necessity of any judge to inter
pret Scripture. " Every man is to judge for himself
with the judgmentof discretion." " For if the Scripture
(as It is in things necessary) be plain, why should it be
more necessary to have a judge to interpret it in plain
places than to have a judge to interpret the meaning
of a councillor's decrees, and others to Interpret their
interpretations, and others to interpret them, and so
on for ever ? And when they are not plain, then if
we, using diligence to find the truth, do yet miss of
^ 1. 232. 2 ii. 169.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 329
it, and fall into error, there is no danger in it. They
that err and they that do not err may both be saved.
So that those places which contain things necessary,
and where no error was dangerous, need no infallible
interpreter, because they are plain : and those that are
obscure need none, because they contain not things
necessary ; neither is error in them dangerous."'^
With such confidence does Chillingworth lay down
the principle of the sufficiency of Scripture, and of
its plainness and intelligibility in all things necessary
for salvation, and therefore necessary to be believed.
He adverts over and over again to the great prin
ciple that the responsibility of faith is to be measured
by the clearness and simplicity of the divine revela
tion. If God has spoken plainly, and man refuse to
receive the divine testimony, he has no excuse to
offer for him. This were to give God the lie, he
says, and " questionless damnable."^ But as for other
things "which lie without the covenant,"^ follow
ing his own expression — that is to say, which are
either obscure in themselves or capable of different
interpretations, according to the variety of tempers,
abilities, educations, and unavoidable prejudices
whereby men's understandings are variously formed
and fashioned — " to say that God will damn men for
errors as to such things, who are lovers of him and
lovers of truth, is to rob man of his comfort and God
of his goodness ; is to make man desperate and God
a tyrant" " When you can show," he adds in the
same place, in a passage of great emphasis, — "When
you can show that God hath Interposed His testimony
' ii. 170. ' Answer to Preface, p. 80. ^ Ibid., p. 80.

330 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
on one side or another, so that either they do see it
and will not — or were it not for their own voluntary
and avoidable fault might and should see it and do
not — let all such errors be as damnable as you please
to make them." But " if they suffer themselves
neither to be betrayed into their errors, nor kept in
them by any sin of their will ; if they do their best
endeavour to free themselves from all errors, and yet
fail of it through human frailty, so well am I per
suaded of the goodness of God, that if In me alone
should meet a confluence of all such errors of all the
Protestants of the world that were thus qualified, I
should not be so much afraid of them all as I should
be to ask pardon for them."^
Scripture on the one hand, therefore, and the free,
honest, open mind on the other hand — these are,
with Chillingworth, the factors, and the only factors,
of religious truth — the essential elements of religi
ous certitude. Scripture is an open mirror in which
every intelligence may see the truth if it only look
for it There Is no necessity for any medium to
transfer it, or any judge to interpret it to the under
standing. It lies open to all in the simple state
ments of the Gospels — of any one of the Gospels.
It is not to be supposed that Chillingworth, in thus
nakedly asserting the sufficiency of the individual
judgment or reason to find the meaning of Scripture
for itself, puts aside or rejects the necessity of divine
influence in reaching divine truth. This special
point was not in question between the two disputants.
They alike recognised the reality of divine revela-
^ Answer to Preface, p. 14.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 33 1
tion and the necessity of the divine Spirit What
they differed about was as to the medium of the
revelation and the organ of the Spirit To the Jesuit,
the Church was both the one and the other — the
revealing medium and the interpreting spirit. Scrip
ture was merely a help to the Church. To Chilling
worth, Scripture and reason were the twofold source
of the truth — the one external, the other internal.
We have seen sufficiently what he says as to the
first. Let us observe now what he says as to the
second. Knott had said that if the notion of Papal infalli
bility were given up, every man was given over to
his own wit and discourse. Chillingworth replies:
" If you mean by discourse right reason grounded on
divine revelation, and common notions written by
God In the hearts of all men, and deducing, according
to the never-failing rules of logic, consequent deduc
tions from them ; — If this be It which you mean by
discourse, it is very meet and reasonable and neces
sary that men, as in all their actions, so especially in
that of greatest importance, the choice of their way
to happiness, should be left unto it; and he that
follows this in all his opinions and actions, and does
not only seem to do so, follows always God."^
Again : " For my part, I am certain that God
hath given us our reason to discern between truth
and falsehood ; and he that makes not this use of it,
but believes things he knows not why, I say that it
is by chance that he believes the truth, and not by
choice ; and that I cannot but fear that God will not
^ Answer to Preface, p. 14.

332 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
accept the sacrifice of fools. But you that would not
have men follow their reason, what would you have
them follow ? — their passions ? — to pluck out their
eyes and go blindfold ? No ; you would have them
follow authority. In God's name let them. We
also would have them follow authority; for it Is upon
the authority of universal tradition that we should
have them believe Scripture. But then as for the
authority which you would have them follow, you
will let them see reason why they should follow it
And is not this to go a little about ; to leave reason
for a short time and then to come to it again, and to
do that which you condemn in others ? — It being,
indeed, a plain improbability for any man to submit
his reason but to reason."-'
Every man. In short, must have some rational con
viction at the root of his religion, however imperfect
or concealed this conviction may be. He may accept
his religion at first hand from the priest or the Church,
but he must have some reason for believing the
Church. He may believe that a doctrine is true be
cause coming directly from the Spirit of God ; but he
must have some evidence, or, in other words, some
reason, for beUeving that the doctrine does come
from the diviae Spirit Chillingworth Is quite as
much opposed to a superstitious and irrational Pro
testantism as to a superstitious and Irrational Popery.
The private judgment must not merely be " a par
ticular reason that a doctrine is true which some men
pretend, but cannot prove, to come from the Spirit
of God," but a rational judgment founded upon evi-
1 i. 237, 238.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 333
dence : " For is there not a manifest difference be
tween saying, ' The Spirit of God tells me that this
is the meaning of such a text' (which no man can
possibly know to be true, it being a secret thing),
and between saying, ' These and those reasons I
have to show that this or that is true doctrine, or
that this or that is the meaning of such a Scripture,'
reason being a public and certain thing, and exposed
to all men's trial and examination ? " ^
Such is the mode in which Chillingworth settles
the primary question of religious certitude, or the
source of religious truth. The remaining questions
scarcely admit of vital controversy after laying down
such a basis. It is plain that differing here, the dis
putants must differ throughout — as to the sum or
contents of religious truth, for example, no less than
its source or authority. The one question continu
ally involves the other. Not only is the Church the
authority with Knott, but all that the Church stamps
with its authority is vital or fundamental. All is
truth which the Church affirms to be true. Not at
all, argues Chillingworth. That is truth only which
is necessary to be believed in order to salvation.
The Jesuit taunts him with the necessity of giving
a catalogue of necessary or fundamental doctrines.
This is not at all requisite, he says. " That may be
fundamental and necessary to me which to another is
not so." The question is one of privilege and oppor
tunity, as the case of Cornelius shows. " In his
Gentilism he was accepted for his present state ; yet
if he had continued in it and refused to believe in
1 i. 235, 336.

334 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
Christ after the sufficient revelation of the Gospel to
him and God's will to have him believe it, he that
was accepted before would not have continued ac-
cepted."! As the Romanist, therefore, thinks it enough to
say in general, " That all is fundamental which the
Church has defined ; " so it is enough for the Pro
testant to say in general, " That it is sufficient for
man's salvation to believe that the Scripture is true,
and contains all things necessary for salvation, and
to do his best endeavour to find and believe tKe
true sense of it" ^
The Jesuit argues that " unless the Church be
infallible in all things, we cannot believe her In any
one." Chillingworth pours great contempt upon
this argument. There is no more consequence in
it, he says, than in this : " The devil is not in
fallible ; therefore, if he says there is one God, I
cannot believe him. No geometrician is infallible
in all things, therefore not in these things which he
demonstrates." ^ If it be meant, indeed, that the
Church being fallible, we cannot rationally believe
her simply on her own word or authority, there is
no doubt of the proposition. The Church is only
to be credited — everything is only credible — on fair
grounds of reason and evidence presented to the
crediting intelligence. That there shall be always
a Church " infallible in fundamentals," he admits ;
for this is simply to say, " that there shall be always
a Church." But that any given Church is always
an infallible guide in fundamentals, is to say some-
1 i. 321, = Ibid., p. 322. = Ibid., p. 347.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 335
thing quite different. This statement he entirely
denies. "The true Church always shall be the
teacher and maintainer of all necessary truth, for it
is of the essence of the Church to be so. But a man
may be still a man though he want a hand or an eye.
So the Church may be still a Church though it be
defective in some profitable truth." ^ It follows, of
course, that the simplest creed is the best creed, and
that which alone offers any basis of reunion among
Christians. That which is known as the Apostles'
Creed best answers to this description. It has been
esteemed " a sufficient summary or catalogue of
fundamentals by the most learned Romanists and by
antiquity." " What man or Church soever believes
this Creed, and all the evident consequences of it,
sincerely and heartily, cannot possibly be in any
error of simple belief offensive to God."
It appears to Chillingworth that it would be of
the utmost advantage for the Christian world if
men would recognise the adequacy of such a
creed as this, and hold all beyond as mere matters
of speculation and opinion. There appears to
him no other prospect of Christian union. " For
this is most certain," he says, " that to reduce
Christians to unity of communion there are but
two ways : the one by taking away the diversity
of opinions touching matters of religion ; the other
by showing that the diversity of opinions which is
among the several sects of Christians ought to be no
hindrance to their unity in communion. Now, the
former of these is not to be hoped for without a
' i. 340-

336 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
miracle. . . . What then remains but that the
other way must be taken, and Christians must be
taught to set a higher value upon those points of
faith and obedience in which they agree than upon
those matters of less moment wherein they differ ;
and understand that agreement in these ought to be
more effectual to join them In one communion than
their difference in other things of less moment }
When I say in one communion, I mean in a common
profession of those articles of faith wherein all con
sent ; a joint worship of God, after such a way as all
esteem lawful, and a mutual performance of all those
works of charity which Christians owe one to
another. And to such a communion what better
inducement could be thought of than to demonstrate
that what was universally believed of all Christians,
if it were joined with a love of truth and of holy
obedience, was sufficient to bring men to heaven }
For why should men be more rigid than God ? Why
should any error exclude any man from the Church's
communion which will not deprive him of eternal
salvation ? " ^
Again, he says : " If men would allow that the
way to heaven is not narrower now than Christ left
it, His yoke no heavier than He made It ; that the
belief of no more difficulties is required now to
salvation than was in the primitive Church ; that no
error is in itself destructive and exclusive from
salvation now which was not then ; if, instead of
being zealous Papists, earnest Calvinists, rigid
Lutherans, they would become themselves, and be
I ' ii- 58. 59-

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 337
content that others should be, plain and honest
Christians ; if all men would believe the Scripture,
and, freeing themselves from prejudice and passion,
would sincerely endeavour to find the true sense of
it, and live according to it, and require no more of
others than to do so ; nor denying their communion
to any that do so, would so order their public service
of God that all which do so may, without scruple, or
hypocrisy, or protestation against any part of it, join
with them in it, — who doth not see that, since all
necessary truths are plainly and evidently set down
in Scripture, there would of necessity be among all
men, in all things necessary, unity of opinion ?
And, notwithstanding any other differences that are
or could be, unity of communion, and charity, and
mutual toleration, by which means all schism and
heresy would be banished the world, and those
wretched contentions which now rend and tear in
pieces, not the coat, but the members and bowels of
Christ, which mutual pride, and tyranny, and curs
ing, and killing, and damning, would fain make
immortal, should speedily receive a most blessed
catastrophe."^ The reader will notice the rising energy, the sup
pressed yet hurrying vehemence, which runs through
this passage. This is Chillingworth's manner when
fully under the influence of some great thought or
feeling. His mind kindles, and his style catches the
glow and impetuosity of a noble enthusiasm. There
is no subject stirs him more readily or more loftily
than religious liberty. The thought of this liberty,
1 i. 404.
VOL. I. Y

338 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
and how miserably men grudge it to each other, and
Christian Churches strive to thwart and limit it
instead of seeking their strength in educating it,
never fails to fire his language, and makes It move
with that grand, if somewhat irregular, energy
which is its highest feature. He acknowledges the
authority of the divine Word to control man's
faith, and no other authority. " Propose to me
anything out of the Bible," he says, "and require
whether I believe it or no, and seem it never
so incomprehensible to human reason, I will sub
scribe it with hand and heart, as knowing no
demonstration can be stronger than this : God hath
said so, therefore it is true. In other things, I
will take no man's liberty of judgment from him,
neither shall any man take mine from me. I will
think no man the worse man nor the worse Chris
tian, — I will love no man the less for differing in
opinion from me; and what measure I mete to
others I expect from them again. I am fully
assured that God does not, and therefore that man
ought not, to require any more of any man than this
— to believe the Scripture to be God's word, to
endeavour to find the true sense of it, and to live
according to it." ^
Freedom of religious opinion was thus placed by
Chillingworth on its true basis more than two
centuries ago — six years before the Westminster
Assembly met If anything were needed to show
the height to which he rises above the divines of the
time, this simple fact is enough to show it. The
' ii. 411.

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 339
principle of religious latitude had indeed been
already laid down by the Remonstrant divines in
Holland ; but none had seized it more clearly or
boldly than Chillingworth, and none had heretofore
given such systematic expression to it in England. It
is to be observed that he announces it as a principle
for the direction and government of Churches, and
not merely as a barren concession to the force of
philosophical and religious indifference. It derives
all its interest to him from Its connection with
religious earnestness and its seeming to open up
the way for the reconstltution and advancement
of the Christian Church. The idea of religious
latitude being something very good outside the
Church, but an impossibility within it is opposed to
his whole conception. According to him, on the
contrary, the only valid basis for the Church, the
only hope of its ever becoming what it professes to
be — catholic — is the utmost freedom in the light of
Scripture. Whatever tends to limit or control reli
gious faith beyond the one controlling authority of
the divine Word is evil. This is absolute when
we recognise it. But whatever tends to interfere
with the simplicity of this absolute spiritual au
thority is a source of ecclesiastical disorganisation
— of unchristian disorder. It is when he touches
this strain that his language rises to indignant
eloquence. " This presumptuous imposing of the senses of
men upon the words of God, — ^the special senses of
men upon the general words of God, and laying
them upon men's consciences together, under the

340 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
equal penalty of death and damnation ; this vain
conceit, that we can speak of the things of God
better than in the words of God ; thus deifying our
own interpretations, and tyrannous enforcing them
upon others ; this restraining of the Word of God
from that latitude and generality, and the under
standings of men from that liberty wherein Christ
and the apostles left them, is and hath been the
only fountain of all the schisms of the Church, and
that which makes them immortal ; the common
incendiary of Christendom, and that which tears In
pieces not the coat, but the bowels and members of
Christ. Ridente Turca nee dolente fudcBO. Take
away these walls of separation, and all will quickly
be one. Take away this persecuting, burning,
cursing, damning of men for not subscribing to the
words of men as the words of God ; require of
Christians only to believe Christ and to call no man
master but Him only ; let those leave claiming
infallibility that have no title to it, and let them
that in their word disclaim \t, disclaim It likewise in
their actions. In a word, take away tyranny, which
is the devil's instrument to support errors and super
stitions and impieties in the several parts of the
world, which could not otherwise long withstand the
power of truth ; I say, take away tyranny, and
restore Christians to their just and full liberty of
captivating their understanding to Scripture only,
and as rivers, when they have a free passage, run
all to the ocean, so it may well be hoped, by God's
blessing, that universal liberty, thus unrestricted,

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 341
may quickly reduce Christendom to truth and
unity." 1
It is unnecessary to carry our exposition further.
These extracts render Chillingworth's principles
sufficiently apparent. They are the principles evi
dently neither of the Laudian school, with which he
was personally associated, nor of the Puritan school,
to which he was opposed. He stands aloof from
both, on a higher platform. From the school of
Laud he is separated by his elevation of Scripture,
not only Into the supreme, but Into the only authority
in religious opinion and controversy ; and while the
mere general assertion of this principle might seem
to place him on the same level with the Puritan, the
manner in which he maintains and interprets the
principle separates him widely from It. While he
recognises the Bible as the only authority in reli
gion, he recognises at the same time the free right of
the individual reason to interpret the Bible. Nor
does he acknowledge this merely as a generality
which Puritanism may be also said to do, but he ac
cepts it as a living practical principle in all its conse
quences. The right of free Scriptural interpretation,
for example, Implies the right of religious differ
ence. Beyond an obvious round of great facts and
truths, to be found everywhere plainly revealed
in Scripture, — to be found complete in any one of
the Gospels, — there is no unity of religious belief
possible or desirable among Christians. Beyond
such facts — of which the Apostles' Creed is the his-
' ii. 38, 39-

342 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH : THE BIBLE
torlcal summary — he proclaims the principle of reli
gious latitude. This is his distinction : Christianity
is with him belief in Christ — the great facts of Christ's
life and death for man's salvation — without either
a Sacramentarian, or a Calvinistic, or an Arminian
theory of the mode in which this salvation is made
effectual to man. He requires of Christians, in his
own language, " to believe only in Christ," " and will
damn no man or doctrine without express and cer
tain warrant from God's Word." He recognises
the authority of God in religion, and no other. This
authority is addressed in Scripture to the indivi
dual reason and conscience, so that the humblest
intelligence may see and own it. There is no se
cond authority entitled to speak for the divine voice,
or to interfere between it and the individual. The
voice of the Church, the voice of creeds and of coun
cils, should be reverently listened to, but they possess
no binding authority in themselves over the Christian
conscience. In so far as they express the truth of
Scripture we are to be thankful for them, accept and
use them ; but what we acknowledge in them is not
the human expressions or temporary form of doctrine,
but the divine substance and meaning which they
have sought to render. " By the ' Religion of Pro
testants,' I do not understand the doctrine of Luther
or Calvin or Melanchthon, nor the Confession of
Augusta or Geneva, nor the Catechism of Heidel
berg, nor the Articles of the Church of England — no,
nor the harmony of Protestant confessions ; but that
wherein they all agree, and which they all subscribe

THE RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 343
with a greater harmony as a perfect rule of their
faith and actions — that is, the Bible." ^
Chillingworth was thus a Protestant truly and
consistently. He recognised, and, for the first time
in English theological literature, fully expounded, the
meaning of Protestantism and its logical corollary,
the principle of religious latitude, or of " agreeing
to differ " In all matters of religious theory in which
the varying tastes, tempers, and judgments of men
necessarily create difference. He held fast to the
supremacy of Scripture, the great watchword of the
sixteenth century against Popery ; but he appreciated
as the sixteenth century had not done, the free action
of reason upon Scripture. To the cause of Protest
antism and of liberal theology he has thus rendered
an abiding service. There are few names, upon the
whole, even in a history so fruitful in great names as
that of the Church of England, which more excite
our admiration, or which claim a higher place in the
development of religious thought.

344

VL
JEREMY TAYLOR — LIBERTY OF CHRISTIAN
TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH.
I. In preceding sketches we have traced the rise
and development of a spirit of rational Inquiry within
the Church of England. This spirit is more or less
connected with the movement of liberal opinion in
Holland ; but it is also the result of internal forces
working In the Church itself, torn by the conflicting
tendencies which it embraced, and the invasion of
Romanist influences once more assailing it The
religious contentions of the time, and the extreme
and violent forms towards which they were advanc
ing under the excitement of political interests, drove
a few thoughtful minds to seek a higher solution of
spiritual questions than had hitherto been imagined
by any political or religious party. Hales and Chil
lingworth are the most prominent representatives
of this higher religious thoughtfulness : the former
owing his theological bias in some degree directly to
contact with the liberal theology of Holland ; the
latter drawing his liberal inspiration more from the
struggles of his own bold and independent spirit.
Both men are thinkers characteristically ; they belong
to the same phase of the movement, and the remark-

JEREMY TAYLOR. 345
able group of writers and distinguished Oxford men
who gathered around Falkland at Tew. Their
whole intellectual life is summed up in what they did
to advance the movement. Their connection with
it gives them their position in the history of the
Church of England. We have therefore presented
full sketches of these two men, — of their life and
character, as well as of their opinions. Their attitude
as the leaders of liberal theological opinion in Eng
land in the first half of the seventeenth century,
when the great currents of theological thought were
running past them in opposite directions, and the sig
nificance of their attitude was but little understood
and heeded, gives them a claim to full recognition
both in their personal and theological character.
After these writers there are two names which
stand in a peculiar relation to the history of religious
thought in England — the names of Jeremy Taylor
and Edward Stillingfleet. They belong to the
liberal movement of the seventeenth century, in so
far as they contributed by distinct and important
works to its advancement ; yet neither their special
reputation nor the prevailing character of their theo
logical activity has identified them with it. Jeremy
Taylor's ' Liberty of Prophesying ' is among the
most remarkable works of the century. Stilling
fleet's ' Irenicum ' is of less significance, because less
distinguished by genius and interest ; and in our day
it is comparatively forgotten. Yet it too claims to
be remembered as marking the height to which
the wave of liberal Churchmanship had risen before
the reaction which set in with the Restoration. The

346 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
first of these works appeared in 1647 — exactly ten
years later than the ' Religion of Protestants ; ' the
second In 1659, on the eve ofthe Restoration.
Both Taylor and Stillingfleet only belong to our
history in so far as these works are concerned.
Their best-known writings are of a different, and,
in some respects, contrasted mode of thought At
the same time, their consistency is not rashly to be
questioned. Taylor was no longer a youth when he
published the ' Liberty of Prophesying,' being, In
1647, thirty-four years of age; nor can he be said
avowedly to have abandoned the principles which it
advocated. He even expresses general adherence to
them as late as 1662, in a famous sermon^ preached
before the University of Dublin. Still, It is only
one side, and perhaps not the most characteristic
side, of his intellectual and Christian activity which
is represented In the ' Liberty of Prophesying.' Tay
lor Is much more, and much besides, in the history of
English theological literature, than the advocate of
a liberal, eclectic theology, and of a Church based
upon broad and comprehensive principles. Stilling
fleet is possibly more open to the charge of incon
sistency. He was comparatively a young man —
only twenty-four — ^when the 'Irenicum' was first pub
lished ; and in his later years he is represented as
saying that " there are many things in it which, if he
were to write again, he would not say — some which
^ Published among his other in this sermon. Coleridge (Notes,
works, under the title of ' Via &c., p. 208, 209) is unduly severe ;
Intelligentise,' Heber's ed., vi. Yet yet Taylor's consistency can hardly
the tone of Taylor, if not also be defended — his manliness cer-
his principles, are very different tainly not.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 347
show his youth and want of consideration, others
which he yielded too far, in the hopes of gaining the
Dissenting parties to the Church of England." ^
Neither of these writers, in short, comes before us'
in his complete personality. Although they both
helped the movement, and came under its Influence,
they do not as men characteristically belong to it.
Their spirit is not essentially philosophic, rational,
or liberal. Taylor is medieval, ascetic, casuistic in
his mature type of thought He Is a scholastic in
argument, a pietist in feeling, a poet in fancy and
expression ; he is not a thinker. He seldom moves
in an atmosphere of purely rational light ; and even
when his instincts are liberal and his reasoning
highly rational in its results, he brings but a slight
force of thought, of luminous and direct comprehen
sion, to bear upon his work. Stillingfleet, again, is
antiquarian, formal, and controversial. His intellect
is acute, hard, and ingenious, ready to cope with any
subject and any opponent that may cross his path, or
may seem to him inimical to the Church. He is alert
alike against the Romanist, the Separatist, and the
Rationalist — one of a common type of theologians
bred by all Churches, who delight to go forth with
weapons of war against all assailants of official
orthodoxy and official privilege. They have their
own merits, this class of writers ; and Stillingfleet,
as well as Jeremy Taylor, is a name of which the
^ Life, 1710. He is supposed tween a Romish priest,' &c. He
himself to be speaking in the per- says something to the same effect
son of P. D., in one of his contro- in his preface to ' The Unreason-
versial writings — ' Conference be- ableness of Separation,' 1680.

348 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
Church of England has reason to be proud. Her
great roll of illustrious writers would be much poorer
if they were gone. There are few names, upon the
whole, which shine with a richer or grander lustre
than that of Taylor. But to our list they only
belong In part — at one point of their lives — and in
virtue of the works which we have mentioned. We
shall therefore content ourselves with a compara
tively brief sketch of both — of Stillingfleet in parti
cular — and dwell mainly on the works by which
they have advanced the cause of liberal Church
opinion. It is also to be remarked, that in dealing with these
writers we get so far into a new sphere, and even
traverse slightly the line of thought to which our
second volume is devoted. Yet it seems better, in
the view of the definite crisis which the Church ques
tion may be said to have reached at the Restoration,
to follow out so far in this volume the series of rational
arguments raised by it Although Taylor and Stil
lingfleet are separated from our foregoing group, and
proceed from another university, it was the special
type of liberalism begun by Hales which they carried
forward. With the later Platonic type their connec
tion is less essential than has been sometimes
supposed. Taylor, moreover, is brought into the
direct vicinity of the Oxford set which surrounded
Falkland. In short, these two writers, or rather
their respective works to which we confine attention,
carry out in its purely intellectual form that earlier
phase of the rational movement which was ecclesi
astical rather than philosophical in its character and

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 349
tendency. Subsequent controversy added but little
to the theory of a comprehensive Church.
Jeremy Taylor was educated at Cambridge, of
which he was a native. His parents are said to have
been of good descent — to have traced their lineage to
the famous martyr, Rowland Taylor, who suffered in
the reign of Mary ; but they occupied a humble posi
tion, and were glad to receive assistance in the educa
tion of their son. Their son was entered as a sizar,
or poor scholar, at Caius College in 1626, a year
after Milton entered at Christ's College. There
appears to be no record of his career as a stu
dent. '^ One of his biographers ^ has drawn a pic
ture of the course of study he was likely to pursue,
and professed to trace the influence of Bacon in
some of the aspects of his mental development
But there is no evidence whatever that the Baconian
philosophy had obtained any footing at Cambridge
at this time, nor is there in the characteristics of Tay
lor's genius any trace of the higher culture which he
would have derived from it. So far as we can trust
Milton, and other authorities probably less preju-
^ The sources of Taylor's bio- of the bishop, among which there
graphy are Heber's well-known was " a family book in his own
Life, prefixed to the edition of his handwriting, giving an account
works published in 1822; and a of his parentage and the principal
Life by Archdeacon Bonney, an events of his life ; " but this, with
interleaved copy of which, " cor- other MSS. of Taylor, is supposed
rected, with many valuable notes," to have been destroyed in a fire
was consulted by Heber. A de- that consumed the London Cus-
scendant of Taylor, William Todd tom-House.
Jones, had made a large collec- ^ Archdeacon Bonney.
tion of materials for a biography

3SO JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
diced, the scholastic system, with its singular subtle
ties, still held sway In the university ; and fertile and
unrestrained as Taylor's mental activity was in many
directions, there Is no Influence of which it bears
more trace than that of the scholasticism still pre
vailing in his youth. He is one of several examples
in his generation of a singular combination of poetic
imaginativeness, exuberant in its wantonness, with
an arid scholasticism tedious in its love of trifles and
distinctions. A medieval culture overlaid his native
richness of fancy and feeling, without moulding and
educating it. The Imaginative fruitfulness survives;
but it is not well mixed — it Is hardly mixed at all —
with the harder intellectual grain developed by the
scholastic discipline. And so, like some other writers
of the seventeenth century,^ he seems almost to have
^ Samuel Rutherford, the well- a frightful degree. Nobody with-
known Scotch Puritan divine, out an effort can read them. And
who replied in an elaborate vol- if it may seem too great a dis-
ume to Taylor and " other authors parity to compare Rutherford in
contending for lawless liberty or any respect with Taylor (although
licentious toleration of sects and their controversial relation sug-
heresies," is an instance of the gests the comparison), we may
same poetic and scholastic quali- point to the greatest literary name
ties ill combined, or rather not of the age as illustrative of the
combined at all. In Rutherford, same fact. Marvellous as are
indeed, both the poetry and the Milton's prose works, they are,
logic must be admitted to be of especially the treatise on Divorce,
very inferior quality. Yet the lacking in lofty rationality and
same contrast of mental character consistency of argument. The
is presented. He is scarcely the poet is revealed in the splendour
same writer in his ' Letters,' the of occasional thoughts and in
only productions of his pen now passages of noble eloquence ; but
known, and in his argumentative the imagination has not blended
treatises. The 'Letters' are mark- with the understanding so as to
ed by the extravagances of a fancy give insight, comprehension, and
lawless in its exuberance. The light to the general train of rea-
treatises are dull, barren, operose, soning.
and unillumined in argument to

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 351
two minds : one tender, sweet, and luxuriant to
excess ; the Qther hard, subtle, formal, prone to de
finition and logomachy. He Is, at the same time,
poet and casuist, orator and ascetic. The poetic,
rhetorical elements lie alongside the dialectic in
his genius, without blending, or fusing and strength
ening into a thorough rational faculty.
Taylor became Bachelor of Arts In 1631, and is
stated by his panegyrist Rust to have been chosen
Fellow of Caius immediately afterwards. There ap
pear, however, to be some doubts ofthis circumstance,
which is distrusted by Heber. It is not till 1633,
when he became Master of Arts, that Taylor's name
occurs in the list of Fellows. He had then been
admitted into holy orders, and appears from the first
to have attracted attention as a preacher. It was
his powers in this respect that brought him under
the knowledge of Laud, and opened up for him a
new career. One of his fellow-students, of the name
of Risden, had become lecturer in St Paul's Cathedral,
and wished Taylor to supply his place for a short
time. Here his eloquence and graceful person, aided,
no doubt, by the interest attaching to his youth, made
a lively impression, and speedily procured him friends
and admirers. He appeared, in the language of Rust,
as " some young angel newly descended from the
visions of glory." The fame of the youthful preacher
was carried to Laud, just then elevated to the see of
Canterbury, and, with that remarkable appreciation
of genius which we have already noticed both in the
case of Hales and Chillingworth, he sent for Taylor
to preach before him at Lambeth. He was highly
satisfied with his sermon, and Immediately interested

352 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
himself in his advancement. The story is that he
wished to rescue so promising a preacher from the
snares of a premature popularity in London. He
thought him too young for such a sphere as St Paul's,
and that it was " for the advantage of the world that
such mighty parts should be afforded better oppor
tunities of study and improvement than a course of
constant preaching would allow of"^ Taylor, of
course, begged his Grace's pardon for the fault of his
youth, and promised, " if he lived, he would amend
it" Such is the manner in which Bishop Rust re
presents this turning-point in Taylor's career; and
there is no reason to doubt his substantial accuracy,
however much his admiring fancy may have em
bellished the event Laud was greatly attracted by
Taylor, and used his influence in establishing him at
Oxford. After some difficulty, he was able to secure
him a Fellowship at All Souls'. Sheldon, who was
warden of the college, interposed to prevent his im
mediate appointment, notwithstanding the choice of
the Fellows at Laud's instance ; but the nomination
devolving in due course to the archbishop as visitor,
he carried out his intentions by his own authority :
Taylor became a Fellow of All Souls' on the 14th of
January 1636.
This is a curious and significant step in Taylor's
career. It is singular, first of all, to find him, no less
than Hales and Chillingworth, In immediate connec
tion with Laud. At this early period, Taylor's mind
had probably not opened to the deeper questions of
his time. There was nothing about him, except his
undoubted ability, to attract the archbishop. This
' Rust.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 353
credit must be given to Laud, whatever we may
think of his ecclesiastical policy : he had an eye for
theological genius. The active patron of Hales and
Chillingworth and Taylor cannot be accused of in
tellectual meanness, or of entire misapprehension of
the spiritual forces of his time. Probably, as is often
found to be the case with extreme ecclesiastics. Laud
had no objection to an active and even liberal spirit
of theological inquiry, where there was no tendency
to practical Insubordination or political restlessness.
He may have guessed instinctively that none of
these men would be likely to prove keen opponents
of, his ritualistic policy. Their spirit of conciliatory
doctrinism made them indifferent, if not in some
degree disposed, to ceremonies which must have
appeared to them mere matters of expediency, while
to the Puritan they savoured of idolatry. Their broad
sense acknowledged no reason for repudiating a cer
tain richness and elaboration of worship. And in
Taylor's case, while his speculative liberality can
hardly have appeared as yet, there may have been
already some trace of those casuistic tendencies which
afterwards matured and gave complexion to his theo
logical culture. There is no difficulty in understand
ing the sympathy between Laud and the author of
the ' Ductor Dubltantium,' and the ' Holy Living '
and ' Holy Dying,' however Imperceptible may seem
the links of association between him and the author
of the ' Liberty of Prophesying.'
But it is further singular to find Taylor, born and
brought up as he was in Cambridge — at a distance
from the band of active theological spirits that sur-
VOL. I. Z

354 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
rounded Falkland at Oxford — suddenly thrown into
their very heart in the college of which Sheldon was
warden, and at the time that Chillingworth was busy
with the composition of the ' Religion of Protestants.'
Chillingworth belonged to Trinity, where Sheldon
also had been educated, and we cannot tell whether
he and Taylor came into contact It is possible
that they would not have greatly attracted each
other if they did. Sheldon's opposition to his ap
pointment naturally produced a coldness between the
warden and the new Fellow, thrust upon him from
Cambridge, against the statutes of the college.^
This coldness is alluded to in a letter, many years
after, from Taylor to Sheldon, in which he thanks
him for forgiving two debts, " one of money, and the
other of unkiudness ; " the latter being contracted
when he did not know Sheldon, and "less under
stood " himself In such circumstances he probably
saw little of Sheldon, and hence httle of Chilling
worth, the two being at this time fast friends, as they
had been fellow-students. Yet we cannot help think
ing that such a moving spirit as Chillingworth would
make his influence in some degree felt within the
college of which his friend was the head ; and, in
any case, the publication of the ' Religion of Pro
testants,' in the following year (1637), could scarcely
be without effect on a mind so open and impression
able as Taylor's.
' The statutes of All Souls' dis- ad eundem till October 1635, so
tinctly required candidates for that he had only been a few
Fellowships to .be of three years' months in the university when
standing in the university. Tay- Laud appointed him to All
lor was not admitted to Oxford Souls'.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 355
After his appointment at All Souls' he continued
his intimacy with Laud, who made him one of his
chaplains. He himself tells us that he was a " most
observant and obliged chaplain," and his duties in
this capacity frequently carried him away from Ox
ford. In the spring of 1638 he was presented to the
rectory of Uppingham, in Rutlandshire, the patron
of which was Juxon, Bishop of London, who was
probably glad to promote the young friend of the
archbishop. In November of the following year,
Taylor was selected to preach at St Mary's the ser
mon on the anniversary ofthe Gunpowder Plot; and
there is a story in connection with this event, of his
having made advances to the Church of Rome, which
were brought to an end by the hard things which he
was forced to say in the sermon against the Roman
Catholics. There appears to have been no founda
tion for the story beyond his intimacy with a Fran
ciscan of the name of Christopher Davenport, who
was better known by the pseudonym of Francis a
Sancta Clara, a chaplain to Queen Henrietta, and
one of the numerous Popish missionaries whom we
have so often traced as then labouring secretly in
England for the overthrow of the Protestant faith.
Davenport was a man of a higher stamp than was
usual with this class of missionaries, and had im
perilled his own orthodoxy by his liberality. Tay
lor's friendship with him was no evidence whatever
of a tendency to Rome ; but it was enough to excite
suspicion and jealousy in such a time, especially in
combination with his relation to Laud, and his own
ritual and ascetic tastes. He continued through life,

356 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
as Heber says, to be haunted by a suspicion of a
concealed attachment to the Roman communion.
About a year after his settlement at Uppingham
he married. Little is known of his wife, or her
relatives, beyond the fact that she appears to have
resided with her mother in the parish, and that her
brother was a physician in Gainsborough, and sub
sequently In Leeds, where he died in 1683. There
is an affectionate letter from Taylor to him in the
year 1643, congratulating him on his recovery from
illness, and bespeaking very affectionate and cordial
relations between the families at Uppingham and
Gainsborough. He had three sons by this wife, one
of whom died in 1642 ; and the mother does not
seem to have long survived her infant
Taylor's life had hitherto been a prosperous and
happy one. The times were troubled, but he had
secured powerful friends ; his genius was acknow
ledged ; and his success had been considerable. Up
to this point we have little insight into his opinions.
His connection with Laud, no doubt, is sufficiently
significant as to his general leanings in Church and
State. His sermon before the University of Oxford,
on the 5th November (1638), had vindicated his
Protestantism ; but of the deep and broader thoughts
passing in his mind regarding the conflicts around
him we learn nothing. A mind like his, however,
must have been greatly moved by the aspect of the
times, and he was now about to break silence. His
patron had been committed to the Tower at the close
of 1640, and there he lay awaiting his trial at the
time that Taylor was feeling the first bitterness of

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 357
domestic sorrow in his parsonage at Uppingham.
It may have been partly to relieve his mind under
the pressure of this sorrow, but no doubt mainly
to vindicate a cause dear to him, that Taylor took
up his pen in defence of Episcopacy, and sent forth
the first of his many works, ' Episcopacy Asserted
against the Acephali and Aerlans, new and old.'
This treatise was published at Oxford, " by his
Majesty's command," In 1642. Before this time
Taylor appears to have quitted his parsonage and
joined the king. His connection with Laud had
been too conspicuous, and his partisanship was too
vehement, to enable him to hope that he would re
main unmolested at Uppingham. There is no evi
dence, however, that at this time he was subjected to
any active persecution. Probably he fled before the
decree of the Parliament, in the autumn of 1642, to
sequester the livings of the loyal clergy.
During the two years following the opening of the
Long Parliament, the air was filled with ecclesiastical
pamphlets. The long-pent-up rage against the abuses
of the Anglican hierarchy had burst forth with irre
pressible energy, Milton leading the van In his
bulky argument on ' Reformation in England, and
the Causes that hitherto have hindered it' The
bishops were specially attacked as an order inimical
to the Scriptural simplicity of the Church, and
the main cause of its corruptions and tyrannies in
England. Many sincere and devout Churchmen
were honestly astonished at the vehemence of the
assaults made upon the Episcopal order. Both Hall
and Usher entered the lists in Its defence. They

358 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
bore the heat and burden of the fray in conflict with
the " Smectymnuans,"^ and their great champion,
whose genius was happily destined to much higher
work. Taylor's treatise may be allowed to rank him
along with these illustrious defenders of their order ;
but he scarcely emerges into pubhc notice as a com
batant; nor is there anything In his treatise Itself that
gives It special claims to recognition. It can hardly
be said to be quite worthy of the subject, or to meet
its real difficulties. It gives no indication of the
liberal and comprehensive spirit which was by-and-by
to expand Into the ' Liberty of Prophesying.' In
stead of resting the defence of Episcopacy on the
rational grounds of Hooker, which still interest and
impress all true thinkers, Taylor Is content with no
thing less than taking up the narrow principle of the
Puritans, and arguing that the plan of Church gov
ernment must be necessarily "platformed in Scrip
ture." The result is very unsatisfactory. Neither
the statements nor the arguments of the treatise will
bear examination. They are marked by uncritical
assumptions and a mass of traditional pedantries
which look imposing, but which weaken and obscure
rather than strengthen or throw light upon his con
clusions. Its chief excellence consists in the concise
and rapid divisions into which he throws his reason
ing, so as to bring all his points successively in good
order before the reader. We have no evidence of

' Five Puritan ministers, the Remonstrance in favour of Epis-
initials of whose names formed copacy, and whose work Milton
the word Smectymnus, who pub- defended against the moderate
lished a reply to Hall's Humble yet powerful criticism of Usher.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 359
how it was received; but no doubt it contributed,
along with his active partisanship, to expose him to
the severity of persecution which awaited him after
the downfall of the royal cause. It was dedicated,
like the ' Liberty of Prophesying,' to one who was
henceforth one of his most active and liberal patrons
— Christopher Lord Hatton of KIrby, who had been
his neighbour at Uppingham, and who, after the
king's retirement to Oxford, acted as Comptroller of
his Household, in which capacity "he possessed,"
says Clarendon,^ " a great reputation, which in a few
years he found a way to diminish."
Taylor had spent five years in pleasant rural re
tirement. During the next few years he led a wan
dering and unsettled life — now with the king at
Oxford, now following the royal army in the capacity
of chaplain, and now, apparently for a brief space,
as his letters (November 24, 1643) show, with his
mother-in-law, the place of whose residence at this
time is uncertain. Like Chillingworth, he appears to
have been involved In the actual disasters of the
war, and to have suffered for a time imprisonment
The foundation for this is a passage in Whitelock,^
in which he states that the royal forces under Colonel
Gerard having been routed before the castle of
Cardigan, which they were besieging, there were
one hundred and fifty prisoners taken, and among
them Dr Taylor. It is presumed that there was
no other Dr Taylor among the Royalists who wg,s
likely to be mentioned in this conspicuous manner.
1 Hist. Rebell., ii. 156.
" Memor., p. 130, referred to by Heber, p. xxiii.

36o JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
This occurred in February 1644; and during the
same year there appeared at Oxford a ' Defence of
the Liturgy,' which he afterwards published In an
enlarged form. There also appeared, under his
friend Hatton's name, an edition of the Psalter, with
Collects affixed, which he subsequently Incorporated
in his works. The substitution of Hatton's name
appears to Heber evidence of Taylor being a pris
oner at the time ; and, except for some purpose of
concealment, it is difficult to account for such a sub
stitution. Nothing, however, is clearly known as to
his movements at this period, during which he mar
ried his second wife. Heber's idea is, that he was
already married in the end of 1643 or the beginning
of 1 644, and settled for a brief space of happiness in
Wales, when the evils of the war extending, again
involved him in Its vortex. To this temporary
period of repose he is supposed to allude in the
well-known dedication of the ' Liberty of Prophesy
ing.' " In the great storm," he says, "which dashed
the vessel of the Church in pieces, I was cast on the
coast of Wales ; and in a little boat thought to have
enjoyed that rest and quietness which in England I
could not hope for. Here I cast anchor ; and think
ing to ride safely, the storm followed me with so
impetuous a violence that it broke a cable, and I
lost my anchor. And here again I was exposed to
the mercy of the sea, and the gentleness of an
element that could neither distinguish things nor
persons. And but that He who stlUeth the raging
of the sea and the noise of the waves, and the mad
ness of the people, had provided a plank for me, I

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 361
had been lost to all the opportunities of content or
study. But I know not whether I have been more
preserved by the courtesies of my friends or the
gentleness and mercies of a noble enemy."
There is difficulty in carrying back the space of
temporary quietness to which Taylor here alludes
so far as 1643, or even 1644; but there can be no
doubt that the description gives us, upon the whole,
the best general idea of his mode of Hfe during this
interval. He was caught in "the great storm" in
which so many fortunes were ruined ; and after re
maining for some time in active service with the
royal forces, he returned into Wales, there married
a second time, and settled on his wife's property.
The story is that his wife was a natural daughter of
King Charles I., and that she bore a strong resem
blance to his well-known countenance, as presented
by Vandyke. Either because the evils of the war
again overtook him in his Welsh retreat, or because
whatever property his wife may have had proved
insufficient for his increasing wants, or for both
reasons, he is found, about 1646 and 1647, keeping
a school in the parish of Llanvihangel-Aberbythic.
Associated with him in this task were two scholars,
also suffering from the disasters of the time, William
Nicholson and William Wyatt The former after
wards became Bishop of Gloucester, and the other
a prebendary of Lincoln. From this scholastic
retreat appeared, in 1647, 'A New and Easy Insti
tution of Grammar,' which Is reckoned among Tay
lor's works, but the chief authorship of which has
been ascribed to Wyatt. It has two epistles dedi-

362 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
catory : the one by Wyatt, In Latin, addressed to
Lord Hatton ; and the other in English by Taylor,
addressed to Hatton's son, then in his fifteenth year.
In the same year appeared his great work, the sub
ject of our special criticism.
Of the remaining events in Taylor's life we can
only give a brief summary. His successive publica
tions. In fact, constitute its chief interest Nothing
could damp the ardour and productivity of his
genius; and during the whole period from 1647 to
1660, he continued to send forth from his prolific
pen, practical, devotional, and argumentative trea
tises. In the year 1648 he published, in an enlarged
form, his ' Defence of the Liturgy ; ' then, in the
same year, his ' Life of Christ, the great Exemplar,'
one of the most solid and Interesting of his works.
The three following years gave to the light his well-
known ' Twenty-seven Sermons ' and the devotional
manuals — perhaps the best known, and still the most
widely read of all his works — ' Holy Living' and
' Holy Dying.' In 1654 he put forth a controversial
treatise against the Roman Catholics, on the subject
of the Eucharist ; and in the same year the beautiful
manual of daily prayers and litanies, &c., which he
entitled ' Golden Grove,' In honour of the hospitable
seat of his friend and patron, Lord Carberry. More
Sermons followed In the succeeding year; and, at
the same time, his famous work on the ' Doctrine
and Practice of Repentance,' ^ which presents him in
^ ' Unum Necessarium ; or the measure of a strict, a holy, and a
Doctrine and Practice of Repent- Christian life, and rescued from
ance, describing the necessity and popular errors.'

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 363
a new theological aspect as an original speculator on
the great subjects of Christian dogma. The views as
to original sin which he propounded in this treatise
drew wide attention, and called down hostile criti
cism, not only from the Calvinistic and Puritan
theologians of the day, upon which he no doubt
reckoned, but from his own theological friends.
The venerable Sanderson, in particular, was greatly
distressed by his novel speculations. He deplored,
it is said, " with much warmth, and even with tears,
Taylor's departure from the cautious and Scriptural
decision of the Church of England, and be-wailed
the misery of the times which did not admit of sup
pressing by authority so perilous and unseasonable
novelties." ^ The times had brought personal hon
our and credit to Sanderson, whose conscientious
ness was conspicuous in the resignation of his Div
inity Professorship at Oxford ; but they had not
taught him toleration or wisdom. He had not read,
or at least, as Heber suggests, had not profited by
Taylor's argument in his ' Liberty of Prophesying.'
His mind, indeed, was of a narrow if subtle cast ;
and Taylor's originality, both as a thinker and writer,
could have been very little appreciated by him. In
recent years Taylor's views on original sin have
attracted renewed attention in the criticism of
Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The weakness and in
consequence of his theory, as well as of the extreme
Calvinistic theory which he designed to supersede,
have been set forth in the ' Aids to Reflection '^ -with
acuteness and force, although with something also
1 Heber, Life, p. xiii. ' i. 208-230.

364 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY'oF
of the wordy and pretentious amplitude of the writer
on such subjects. It is not difficult, indeed, to hit
the weakness in Taylor's theory. In addition to the
intrinsic difficulties of theorising on such a topic,
Taylor's tendency to illustration and exuberance of
statement on this, as on other topics, leads him con
stantly into extravagance. His imagination is but
rarely under the severe control necessary to fortify
an argument at all points, and to exhibit it at once
with due discrimination and force.
In^the year 1659 he republished several of his
former works in folio, and among them ' The
Liberty of Prophesying,' under the title tv^i^oXov
aOLKo-voXeiMLKov, wlth a dedication to Lord Hatton,
in which he defends the consistency of his views
regarding the Fathers, whose authority he had ap
peared to some " to pull down with one hand " and
"to build with the other." Finally, in 1660, was
published his great work, which he had been long
preparing, and which he himself was disposed to
esteem the chief pillar of his fame — his ' Ductor
Dubltantium,' or extended treatise on Casuistic
Divinity. With this work his career as an author
does not, indeed, terminate, but his significance as a
theological writer reaches its highest point His
' DIssuasIves from Popery,' the second part of
which was only completed in the year of his death
(1667), and an important sermon, under the title of
" Via Intelllgentioe," which he preached before the
University of Dublin in 1662, are the only writings
of his later years that demand special notice. The
sermon in question is intimately related to the views

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 365
expounded in the ' Liberty of Prophesying,' and
generally reasserts the liberal principles of this work,
with modifications which were not new, but which
received from him a new and special prominence in
the different circumstances in which he was placed.
To this brief sketch of Taylor's literary and
theological activity during the twenty years which
elapsed from the publication of his ' Liberty of
Prophesying' till his death, little remains to be
added, as to his external life and circumstances.
He remained in Wales, making occasional visits to
London and its neighbourhood, especially to see his
friend Evelyn, until the year 1658. Notwithstand
ing his misfortunes and losses in the commotions of
the time, Taylor seems to have had a great faculty
of acquiring friends of rank and wealth who were
able to assist him, and to whom he in return acted
as a spiritual counsellor, both privately by personal
advice or letter, and publicly, so far as his ministra
tions could be conducted with any safety under the
restrictions of the time. We have already alluded
to his friend Lord Carberry, whose seat of Golden
Grove, in the same parish In Wales where Taylor's
lot was cast, gave the name to one of his most
attractive devotional works. Richard Vaughan,
Earl of Carberry, had distinguished himself as a
military commander on the king's side, and survived
to be rewarded for his loyal service at the Restora
tion. He and his wife were both warm friends
of Taylor, and he repaid their friendship by an
enthusiastic devotion. When the first Lady Car
berry died, he preached her funeral sermon, and

366 JEREMY TAYLOR: LIBERTY OF
drew a portrait of her which, as Heber says,
" belongs rather to an angelic than a human char
acter." The second Lady Carberry, who was a
daughter of the Earl of Bridgewater, was no less
friendly to Taylor, and had the singular fortune
of not only being eulogised by him, but of forming
the original of the "Lady" in Milton's "Comus."
In the happy mansion of this family Taylor not
only spent many pleasant hours, but was able to
carry on his ministry when the neighbouring
churches were shut against him. He preached
here his " yearly course " of Sermons.^ His
friendship with Evelyn, which was ultimately of
material assistance to him, began about 1654,
apparently in one of his visits to London. About
this time Taylor was in difficulties, and appears
to have been, within a year, twice imprisoned in
connection with some of his publications. His
imprisonment, however, was of short duration on
both occasions. It is possible that Evelyn was
of service in procuring his liberation ; for Evelyn's
position, character, and moderate opinions, although
a sincere Royalist, like his friend, gave him influence
with the parties in power.^ Certainly, from this
^ 'EviavTos, — the title by which century. He is now chiefly re-
he himself designated the first membered by his works on Gar-
series of his published Sermons ; dening and Forestry, especially
although, as Heber remarks, with his great work, ' Sylva ; or a Dis-
one or two exceptions, they have course of Forest-Trees.' He had
no reference to the yearly fes- returned from a prolonged resi-
tivals of the Church. dence abroad in the beginning of
* John Evelyn is a conspicuous 1652, and settled on his wife's
figure in the literary and philoso- property at Sayes-Court, near
phical society of the seventeenth Deptford.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 367
time Taylor and Evelyn continued warm friends.
During four years, from 1655 to 1658, their corre
spondence, which had previously begun, continues
frequent, and gives us the best insight we have into
Taylor's personal life. The picture has not much
colour ; but we can see, with sufficient distinctness,
on the one hand, the earnest hard-working theo
logian and spiritual counsellor, depressed by the
res angusta domi of which he often complains ; and,
on the other hand, the kind-hearted, amiable scholar
and Christian philosopher, always urging his hospi
tality at Sayes - Court, near Deptford, upon his
friend, and wishing him to settle in London.
Taylor expresses, in July 1656, great anxiety to
comply with his friend's wish, that he may " receive
advantage of society and books to enable him better
to serve God and the interest of souls ; " but says
that he is hindered by the straitness of his means.
It seems to be doubtful whether he ever removed to
London with his family ; but he is represented as
officiating to private congregations of Episcopalians
there, and as officiating at the baptism of Evelyn's
fourth son at Sayes-Court, in the spring of 1657.
In the same year Evelyn seems to have granted
him a yearly pension, in acknowledgment of which
Taylor's thanks are affluent.
In 1658 another powerful friend of Taylor's comes
upon the scene, Edward, Earl of Conway ; and he,
in conjunction with Evelyn, induced the neglected
divine, for whom England at this time could furnish
no post, to accept a lectureship at Lisburn, in the
north of Ireland. At first Taylor did not like the

368 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
offer, which presented few attractions. The stipend
is " so considerable," he says, that it will not pay the
charge and trouble of removing himself and his
family, and the duty is to be shared by a Presby
terian. " I like not," he writes to Evelyn in May
1658, "the condition of being a lecturer under the
dispose of another, nor to serve in any semicircle
where a Presbyterian and myself shall be, like
Castor and Pollux, the one up and the other down."
His scruples, however, were overcome, and in the
summer of the same year we find him settled at
Portmore, about eight miles distant from Lisburn.
Portmore was the seat of Lord Conway, his friend
and patron, and was charmingly situated on Lough
Neagh. Here, under the shadow of a princely
mansion, " built after a plan by Inigo Jones," and
amidst scenes " where a painter, a poet, or a devout
contemplatist might alike delight to linger," Taylor
appears to have fixed his final residence. His sub
sequent elevation to the bishopric of the province
made no change, or at least no permanent change,
in his place of abode. He clung to the sequestered
charm of the place, with its cluster of " romantic
Islets lying near," to some of which, according to
tradition, it was his practice to retire, for purposes
of study or devotion. It was a fitting retreat for his
closing years.
When Episcopacy was restored in 1660, it might
have been supposed that so distinguished a cham
pion of it as Taylor would have been called to some
post of honour and activity in England ; but, from
whatever cause, he received no such call. He was

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 369
elevated to episcopal dignity, however, within the
district where he was. On the 6th of August, after
the king's return, he was appointed Bishop of Down
and Connor, and shortly afterwards he was elected
Vice-Chancellor of the University of Dublin.
Of Taylor's episcopate there is not much to say.
The difficulties which surrounded him were extreme.
On one side the Roman Catholics, on the other side
the Puritans, regarded him with disfavour. The
latter had obtained great ascendancy, particularly in
his diocese, during the Commonwealth. They were
generally of the most extreme Calvinistic and
Covenanting type ; and Taylor's liberalism in theo
logy, no less than his devotion to the ritual and
government of the Church of England, were deeply
distasteful to them. It is impossible to read his
sermon before the two Houses of Parliament In
May 1 66 1, or his still more famous sermon before
the University of Dublin, published in the following
year, without perceiving traces of his disappoint
ment at the conduct of this ecclesiastical faction.
His principles were strained to the utmost in speak
ing of them, and some of his expressions regarding
the duty of obedience to ecclesiastical superiors, and
the over-doing of respect for " weak consciences,"
when it is evidently " not their consciences, but their
profits," that are In question, are barely within those
laws of toleration and charity of which he had written
so earnestly and so beautifully.
As for the Roman Catholics, he found himself in
face of them as " a faction and a state party," whose
design was, according to his own statement, " to
VOL. I. 2 A

370 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
recover their old laws and barbarous manner of
living, and so to be ' populus unius labii,' a people of
one language, and unmingled with others." Unhap
pily, neither the political nor ecclesiastical authorities
of the time fully appreciated the nature of the people
whom they sought to govern and instruct. Neither
penalties nor ' DIssuasIves from Popery ' were the
means to reach an ignorant, enthusiastic, naturally
patriotic race. Teachers and preachers In their own
language, the systematic and patient carrying out
of the policy pursued by Usher and Bedell at an
earlier period might have been crowned with
some measure of success. But nothing of this sort
was attempted. The Irish language was in every
way discountenanced. Neither Scripture nor the
Liturgy was translated ; while the people were yet
bound to give attendance at the parish churches.
The fatal results of such a policy have only reached
their climax in our own day. Not even a bishop
like Taylor could stem the evil Influences that flowed
from it. The most enlightened toleration and the
purest and most benevolent character might relieve
the darkness of the general system of civil and
ecclesiastical government set up in Ireland, no less
than In Scotland, at the Restoration, but they could
do no more. The name of Taylor, like that of
Leighton, serves to show how the noblest and
most Christian aspirations may be bound up with
a base and unjust cause. They are spots of
beauty in an ugly picture, on which men look back
with shame and sorrow, but in no respect do they
redeem the cause with which they were identified.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 371
They do not even cast respectability around it.
On the contrary, it requires the impartial charity
of the historian to lift the name of either clear
from the bad system of ecclesiastical and political
tyranny to which they respectively belonged, and
which derived in its time some credit from their
connection. Taylor survived his elevation to the episcopate
only seven years — years of severe personal trial, as
well as of painful public responsibility. Of his
two surviving sons, one fell in a duel ; and the
other, who was intended for the Church, came under
the profligate influence of the Duke of Buckingham,
lost his health as the result of his excesses, and died
in August 1667. In the same month the father,
who had felt bitterly the conduct of his sons, and
been broken in spirit by the sad fate of the eldest (It
is doubtful whether he survived to hear of the death
of the second), was seized with fever, and died at
Lisburn, after ten days' illness, in the fifty-fifth year
of his age.
Those who have looked at Taylor's portraits will
have been struck by the beauty and grace of his per
sonal appearance. There is a ripe and somewhat soft
freshness of health in his face, "with his hair long
and gracefully curling on his cheeks, large dark eyes
full of sweetness, an aquiline nose," and an open
earnest expression. He is said not to have been
without consciousness of his personal beauty, and to
have frequently introduced his portraits in different
attitudes in his various writings.^
^ Heber, i. cxxv.

372 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
II. The ' Discourse on the Liberty of Prophe
sying' was published in 1647; and it is import
ant to fix attention upon this particular date in the
great crisis of events through which the country
was passing. In the ten years which had elapsed
since the publication of the ' Religion of Protes
tants,' momentous changes had occurred. The
government of the king had been subverted, the
Church overthrown. Laud beheaded. Puritanism
was everywhere triumphant The fear of Popery,
which had goaded the nation into frenzy, and the
intolerant claims of which had provoked Chil
lingworth's great work, had entirely passed away.
The question was no longer as to the validity
of Protestantism. The Reforming passions of the
nation, long held in check by arbitrary power, had
burst forth and carried all before them ; and, as
always happens in such crises, it was the extreme
force of the reaction which had gradually acquired
ascendancy. It is singular and somewhat mournful
to contemplate the manner In which the national
enthusiasm swept away the successive stands or
rallying-polnts which the early friends of the move
ment sought to make. At first, when the Long
Parliament met (November 1640), all the represen
tatives of the national patriotism may be said to have
been arrayed against the king — Clarendon and Falk
land, no less than Pym and Hampden. But with
the overthrow of the great abuses and agencies of
tyranny which had grown up under Charles, a schism
occurred in the popular party. Pym and Hampden
carried forward the revolutionary movement; but

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 373
Falkland and his friends drew off, and formed that
new or middle party of which we have already
spoken. Falkland was the soul of this party, and
its best, if not its stoutest, representative. A Con
stitutionalist in politics, and a Moderate in doctrine
and Church government he would have arrested
the revolution, if he could have done so, by the
pure operation of Parliamentary government on the
one hand, and on the other hand by a reasonable
reform of the Church, so as to give scope at once to
freedom of opinion and a fair order of service with
out Popish adjuncts or Episcopal intermeddling.
In this latter respect his friend Chillingworth would
have been found ranked by his side. This is the
very ideal of doctrinal moderation and Church order
and service which he has drawn in his third chapter,
on " Points Fundamental and not Fundamental." ^
There is reason to believe that, so far as reform of
the Church was concerned, Pym himself was not
disposed at first to go further than this. The Con
stitutional Moderates in Church and State, however,
were rapidly swept away. They can scarcely be
said even to have made a serious stand betwixt
the extreme influences that were hurrying the
nation into ^conflict Pym, who alone had the
strength of brain and the Parliamentary influence
to have converted them into a party, was himself
hurried by the violence of his political resentments,
and his too-well-founded suspicions of the king, into
an Increasing hostility to the royal cause. No
Puritan himself, he yet laid the foundations of the
^ i. 404, Oxford ed.

374 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
triumph of Puritanism. He headed the forces which
were destined to subvert the Church to which he
professed attachment.
When, with the progress of events, power passed
into the hands of the Presbyterians, they sought to'
make a definite and authoritative stand for their
principles. They were a compact and closely organ
ised party, fully understanding what they meant,
both in reference to Church and State. Constitu
tionalists in politics, dogmatists in religion, even
more decisively than the Laudians whose excesses
had done so much to provoke hostilities, they sought
to stem the advancing tide of the revolution as soon
as they had secured their religious ends. And if
Charles had yielded sooner the demands of Scot
land, and thrown himself upon the loyalty of the
Presbyterian interest In both countries, it Is probable
that he might still have secured his throne and life,
and the course of the revolution have been stayed.
But the fanaticism of Charles played into the hands
of the more powerful fanaticism which animated the
soldiers of the Commonwealth, and left him a prey
to their ambitious energy and fierce passion for rule.
Presbyterianism in Its turn was swept aside, and the
revolution reached its height in the triumph of the
army which Its necessities had called into existence.
In the years 1646 and 1647, however, it was still
uncertain what course things would take. Presby
terianism, as represented by the Parliaments in both
kingdoms, had begun to lose credit ; but it was still
powerful. Some of the military chiefs, like Essex,
still clung to it The Westminster Assembly, the

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 375
embodiment of its higher spiritual wisdom, still met
and gave forth from time to time their deliverances.
Especially the Scottish army in the north of Eng
land was unanimously and intensely Presbyterian,
and would have been quite ready, as future events
proved, to turn its arms against the revolution which
it had done so much to advance, if the king would
only have consented to its terms and accepted the
Covenant, at least for Scotland. Charles, whose
own forces had been entirely ruined after the battle
of Naseby (June 1645), sought refuge in the Scottish
camp in May 1646. The negotiations respecting
the Covenant having failed with him, he was deliv
ered under orders from the Scottish Parliament to
the commissioners of the English Parliament on the
30th of January 1647. In the following June he
was forcibly taken possession of by the English
army, which had now turned its forces against the
Parliament. The summer of 1647 was therefore, as Heber
indicates, a critical turning-point in the great strug
gle. There were at least three parties in the field —
the King, the Presbyterians, and the Independents,
represented by Cromwell and the army. Religious
confusion imbittered civil discord. Sects were
rising on all sides unfamiliar alike to Presbytery and
Episcopacy. Out of the very growth of religious
differences there had sprung a spirit of religious
latitude. The Independents, whilst claiming free
dom for themselves against the Presbyterians, could
not deny some measure of the same freedom to
Episcopalians. And accordingly, when they ob-

376 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
tained possession of the king, they at once showed
a greater deference to his religious scruples than the
Parliament had done. His chaplains were admitted
free access to his presence, and were allowed to con
duct service before him according to the Book of
Common Prayer. It seemed for a while as if there
were an opening for general pacification through
some adjustment of religious differences. It is, at
any rate, to the Immortal credit of Taylor that such
a vision of religious accommodation, based on the
most profound principles of religious truth and free
dom, took hold on his mind and inspired his great
work. Even such a voice as his was too feeble to
quell the rage of contending factions, and to breathe
toleration and charity into sternly agitated minds ;
but it remains, nevertheless, a living voice of wisdom
long after the intolerant cries on one side and an
other have died away. It Is only the natural fate of
such a voice to be unheard in its first utterance ; but
the cause of truth, freedom, and charity, for which it
pleads, is not destroyed, although resisted. " No
truth spoken by God's Spirit," as Taylor himself
says, " returns unperformed and ineffectual ;" and
therefore he adds ¦} — "I thought it might not mis
become my duty and endeavours to plead for peace
and charity and forgiveness and permissions mutual ;
although I had reason to believe that, such is the
iniquity of men, and they so indisposed to receive
such impresses, that I had as good plough the sands,
or till the air, as persuade such doctrines which
destroy men's Interests, and serve no end but the
' The Epistle Dedicatory, p. cccxcv., Heber's edition.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 377
great end of a happy eternity, and what Is in order
to It. But because the events of things are in God's
disposition, and I knew them not — and because, if I
had known, my good purposes would be totally in
effectual as to others — yet my own designation and
purpose would be of advantage to myself, who might,
from God's mercy, expect the retribution which He
is pleased to promise to all pious intendments ; I
resolved to encounter with all objections, and to do
something to which I should be determined by the
consideration of the present distemperatures and
necessities, by my own thoughts, by the questions
and scruples, the sects and names, the Interests and
animosities, which at this day, and for some years
past, have exercised and disquieted Christendom."
Such, then, was the origin of the ' Liberty of Pro
phesying.' It sprang directly out of the necessities
of the time,— out of those public concernments which,
as Taylor says, in the same dedicatory epistle, so
fixed his thoughts " that besides them he could not
go." He could not keep his mind off the religious
conflicts on which he looked ; he saw nothing but
prolonged confusion and an Increase of enmities in
the prevalent ways " of promoting the several
opinions " which were then in vogue. In the rise of
the Independents and their more liberal treatment
of religious questions he may have seen an opening
more favourable to his views than he even confesses ;
and he gave, if not with hopefulness, yet with a
strong confidence in the righteousness and charity
of his cause, his views to the public.
The substance of the argument of the ' Liberty of

378 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
Prophesying ' is contained in the first two chapters
of the work on the ' Nature of Faith ' and the
' Nature of Heresy.' The principles which underlie
his system of religious latitude or comprehension
are fully unfolded in these chapters, and most of the
remaining chapters are devoted to show the weak
ness of any other grounds of religious certitude
and agreement than those which he has set
forth. One of these chapters, however, on the
" Practice of the Primitive Church," has a more
practical and significant bearing. It treats of the
rise of the idea of persecution in the Christian
Church, and shows how greatly at variance it was
with the course of Christian thought in the first ages
and for long afterwards. In his lengthened dedica
tory epistle he recurs to this subject, and brings
forth more ample evidence bearing upon it His
whole treatment of this Important subject is highly
interesting and satisfactory. Then, his chapter on
the " Case of the Anabaptists " deserves special men
tion. It is an admirable piece of pleading on behalf
of a sect generally repudiated and condemned ; and,
indeed, with such a firm and even hand did Taylor
hold the balance in estimating the arguments re
garding baptism on either side, that many of his
friends seem to have been doubtful to which side he
himself inclined, and he was obliged to add an ap
pendix containing " the Anabaptists' arguments " (as
he had himself put them) " answered."
We shall do most justice to his argument by
exhibiting, in the first instance, the principles on
which it rests, and which appeared to him to form

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 379
the only rational basis of religious certitude ; and
then by reviewing briefly, according to his own
order and exposition, the several false or uncertain
standards of religious truth which had been set up
by contending parties.
Taylor opens his treatise with a brief statement
of his general position, which is plainly identical
with that of Chillingworth. Differences in religious
opinion are declared to be inevitable. " So long as
men had such variety of principles, such several con
stitutions, educations, tempers and distempers, hopes,
interests, and weaknesses, degrees of light and
degrees of understanding, it was impossible all
should be of one mind. And what Is impossible to
be done is not necessary it should be done."-^ Vari
ety of opinion must subsist in the nature of things ;
but variety of opinion need not breed, and cannot
justify, the virulent hostilities of religious parties.
It Is quite possible for men to differ on really im
portant questions, such as the validity or invalidity
of a death-bed repentance, or the consequences of
the doctrine of predetermination, and yet not fall into
sects or break up communion on this account The
source of mischief is not in the diversity of thought,
but in the want of charity and breadth of mind.
Men are " so in love with their own fancies and
opinions as to think faith and all Christendom are
concerned in their support;" and so a theological
dispute grows into " a quarrel in religion, and God
is entitled to it ; " and the person with whom we
differ becomes to us an " enemy of God," whom we
1 Introd.

38o JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
think that it is a good service to God to persecute
" even to death." " It is not the variety of under
standings, but the disunion of wills and affections ;
it is not the several principles, but the several ends,
that cause our miseries ; our opinions commence and
are upheld according as our turns are served, and
our interests are preserved, and there is no cure for
us but piety and charity." ^ The mischiefs which he
deplores " proceed not from this, that all men are
not of one mind, for that is neither necessary nor
possible, but that every opinion is made an article of
faith, every article a ground of quarrel, every quarrel
makes a faction, every faction is zealous, and all zeal
pretends for God, and whatsoever is for God cannot
be too much ; we by this time are come to that pass,
we think we love not God except we hate our
brother, and we have not the virtue of religion unless
we persecute all religions but our own." ^ The " pur
pose of his discourse" is to discover the origin of
such " errors and mischiefs," and so to indicate their
cure and remedy.
I. The first and most important point to be con
sidered is the " nature of faith ;" for it is here that
" the first and great mistake " of religious parties
begins. Faith, he says. Is not an " intellectual habit"
directed towards certain doctrines or propositions,
but simply a personal acceptance of Jesus Christ,
and Him crucified. We may indifferently doubt or
believe many things concerning God, " when the
question is not concerning God's veracity " (for
every Christian accepts what he knows to be re-
' Ibid. 2 Ibid.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 381
vealed of God), " but whether God hath said so or
no." " That which is of the foundation of faith, that
only is necessary." The primitive creed was
nothing more than" belief in Jesus Christ as the Son
of God and our Saviour. He quotes various texts
in proof of this, from the enunciation of St Peter
in Matt. xvi. 16, "We believe and are sure that
Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God," to
the " admirable creed " of St Paul, " This is the
word of faith which we preach, that if thou shalt
confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt
believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from
the dead, thou shalt be saved." ^ These and many
other instances show that the " entire complexion "
of a Christian faith is contained in such a creed.
The " act of believing " propositions has no " excel
lency" in Itself; faith is only valuable as a means to
an end. We are bound, indeed, to believe all " which
we know our Great Master hath taught ; " but salva
tion specially flows from belief In the great Gospel
verities — " which have in them the endearments of
our services, or the support of our confidence, or the
satisfaction of our hopes ; such as are — Jesus Christ,
the Son of the living God, the crucifixion and resur
rection of Jesus, forgiveness of sins by His blood,
resurrection of the dead, and life eternal." " Sal
vation is promised to the explicit belief of those
articles, and therefore those only are necessary, and
those are sufficient" ^
If any man will urge further, that whatsoever is
deducible from these articles by necessary conse-
1 Rom. x. 9. ^ Sect. i. 5.

382 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
quence — a favourite mode of argument with dogma
tists both Puritan and sacerdotal — is necessary to be
believed explicitly, Taylor answers — " It is true, if one
sees the deduction and coherence of the parts ; but it
is not certain that any man shall be able to deduce
whatsoever Is Immediately or certainly deducible from
these premises ; and then, since salvation is promised
to the explicit belief of these, I see not how any man
can justify the making the way to heaven narrower
than Jesus Christ hath made it, it being already so
narrow that there are few that find it" ^
He then proceeds to show that the Apostles'
Creed is the summary of such verities as are alone
necessary for Christian salvation. He accepts the
traditional view of this Creed as in the main com
posed by the apostles, or " holy men, their contem
poraries and disciples ;" but candidly admits that the
clause as to Christ's descent into hell is not to be
found in the original Creed, and is omitted in all
the confessions of the Eastern Churches. If the
Apostles' Creed contained all that was necessary to
be believed in primitive times, he is quite at a loss to
understand why it should not be equally adequate now.
" If the apostles admitted all to their communion
that believed this Creed, why shall we exclude any
that preserve the same entire ? Why is not our
faith of these articles of as much efficacy for bringing
us to heaven as it was in the churches apostolical ?
— who had guides more infallible, that might without
error have taught them superstructures enough, if
they had been necessary. And so they did ; but that
' Sect. i. 5, 6,

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 383
they did not Insert them into the Creed, when they
might have done it with as much certainty as these
articles, makes it clear to my understanding that other
things were not necessary, but these were." ^
He recurs to the enlargement of the Creed by
deduction, and states his opinions more fully on
this point. It was lawful for the apostles to draw
out the " general article " of belief in Christ as the
Son of God and Saviour of the world into the
special clauses of the Apostles' Creed, because these
are only the explicit expressions of what is contained
in the general article, and they may be supposed to
have had special divine guidance In what they did ;
but all further deductions, with a view to being made
tests of communion or orthodoxy, are illegitimate.
A man may, if he likes, extend his own creed. He
may make " deductions " himself, but he is not
bound " to follow another man's logic as an article
of faith." " No such deduction is fit to be pressed on
others as an article of faith." The Church, in short,
" Has power to intend our faith, but not to extend it
— to m,ake our belief m,ore evident, but not m^re large
and comprehensive. For Christ and His apostles con
cealed nothing that was necessary to the integrity of
Christian faith or salvation of our souls ; Christ de
clared all the will of the Father, and the apostles
were stewards and dispensers of the same mysteries,
and were faithful in all the house, and therefore con
cealed nothing, but taught the whole doctrine of
Christ So they said themselves. And, indeed, if
they did not teach all the doctrine of faith, an angel
1 Sect. i. 10.

384 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
or a man might have taught us other things than
what they taught, without deserving an anathema, but
not without deserving a blessing for making up that
faith entire which the apostles left imperfect" ^
He entirely denies the right of the Church to add
credenda to the Christian creed ; to declare any
article to be necessary " which before was not neces
sary." " By so doing she makes the narrow way to
heaven narrower, and chalks out one path more to
the devil than he had before. . . . The object of
the Church's faith Is in order of nature before the
Church, or before the act and habit of faith, and
therefore cannot be enlarged by the Church, any
more than the act of the visive faculty can add visi
bility to the object" ^
Such is Taylor's clear and decisive outline of the
nature of faith, and hence of the only essential con
ditions of a Christian Church. All who believe in
Jesus Christ as the Son of God and Saviour of the
world, he was prepared to acknowledge as mem
bers of the Christian Church. Not only so, but he
maintained that those who went beyond this — the
ground of Christ Himself and ofthe apostles — were
the real authors of schism and heresy. " Bodies of
confession and articles," according to him, " do much
hurt by becoming Instruments of separating and
dividing communions, and making unnecessary or
uncertain propositions a certain means of schism and
disunion. Men would do well to consider whether
or no such proceedings do not derive the guilt of
schism upon them who least think it ; and whether
^ Sect. i. 12. ^ Ibid., p. 13.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 385
of the two is the schismatic — he that makes unneces
sary and (supposing the state of things) inconvenient
impositions, or he that disobeys them, because he
cannot, without doing violence to his conscience,
believe them ? — he that parts communion, because
without sin he could not entertain It, or they that
have made it necessary for him to separate by re
quiring such conditions, which to no man are simply
necessary, and to his particular case, either sinful or
impossible ? " ^
Profession of faith in the Apostles' Creed, there
fore, constituted with Taylor the sole essential of
Christian communion. He believed, indeed, Epis
copacy to be a divinely sanctioned order. The
Episcopal form of Church government was to him
something more than it was to Chillingworth. In
his view it appeared to have been committed to
the apostles by Christ Himself He had maintained
as much in his ' Episcopacy Asserted.' But what
ever were his own convictions on this subject, he
did not press them as entering radically into the idea
of the Church. In its full conception, the Church
implied Episcopacy, but not in its essence. It
was part of its wellbeing — its bene esse — but not of
its mere being, or esse. All its essential life was to
be found m. faith in Christ. And looking forth on
the wild dogmatic contentions of his time, he pro
claimed this truth as one fitted to heal its divisions
and enmities. If the Episcopalian, the Puritan —
Presbyterian or Independent — the Sectary, whether
Anabaptist or any other, could have been induced to
Sect. xxii. I.
VOL. I. 2 B

386 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
recognise what seemed to him so clearly true — and
proved both in the light of Scripture and of apos
tolic practice — it might have been possible to have
built up the breaches of the national Zion, or at
least to have established relations of peace amidst
the distracted parties into which the country was
divided. It can scarcely be doubted that Taylor, Episco
palian as he was, designed to teach his own party
especially a wholesome lesson, and to lead them to
recognise the validity of differences with which they
could not sympathise. " It is a hard case," he says,^
" that we should think all Papists, and Anabaptists,
and Sacramentarians (Zwingllans ?) to be fools and
wicked persons. Certainly among all these sects
there are very many wise men and good men as well
as erring." It was supercilious indifference to private
opinions — or rather, a proud impatience and oppres
sion of them — which had produced the revolution.
Severe as was the education through which the
national mind had to pass, it was by no means a
profitless severity' which had issued in the recogni
tion of the principle so finely expressed by Taylor^
that God alone is " Master of our souls, and hath a
dominion over human understanding : and he that
says this does not say that indifference (of religion)
is persuaded, because God alone is judge of erring
persons." ^
2. Taylor follows up his explanation of faith by a
very important chapter on the " Nature of Heresy."
The two chapters require to be taken together in
^ Epistle Dedicatory. ' Ibid.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 387
order fully to understand the eclectic spirit of his
theological and ecclesiastical system. As Christ is
with him the sole comprehensive object of faith, so it
is opposition to Christ, or denial of Him as having
come in the flesh to save sinners, which alone pro
perly constitutes heresy. " It is observable that
no heresies are noted ' signanter ' in Scripture,
but such as are great errors practical, ' in materia
pietatis,' such whose doctrines taught impiety, or
such who denied the coming of Christ directly or
by consequence." ^ Heresy, in short, is " a wicked
opinion, an ungodly doctrine," ^ and is never applied
to doubtful " speculative " propositions, " nor ever
to pious persons." He insists greatly upon the lat
ter point as unmistakably evident in every notice of
heresy in the New Testament.
" Heresy is not an error of the understanding, but
an error of the will. And this is clearly insinuated
in Scripture, In the style whereof faith and a good
life are made one duty, and vice is called opposite to
faith, and heresy opposed to holiness and -sanctity.
St Paul calls faith, or the form of sound
words, /car' evcre^Setav StSacr/caXiav — ' the doctrine that
Is according to godHness.' " ^ And to believe in the
truth, and to have pleasure in unrighteousness, are
by the same apostle opposed. " If we remember
that St Paul reckons heresy amongst the works of
the flesh, and ranks it with all manner of practical
impieties, we shall easily perceive that if a man
^ Sect. ii. 2. Fide Catholica. Ibid.
2 " dae^T]i 8o'|a Kxii aSepiTos 8tSatr- ^ I Tim. vi. 3 ; ibid., 8.
KoKia!' — De Sancta Trinitate et

388 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
mingles not a vice with his opinion, if he be inno
cent in his life, although deceived in his doctrine,
his error is his misery, not his crime." ^
As the nature of faith, in short, is, so Is the nature
of heresy. Faith, If It be taken for an act of the
understanding merely, has no value except to im
prove the understanding, " as strength doth the arm,
or beauty the face." It is only when it mixes charity
with it that it becomes moral or religious. And so
error which springs from involuntary causes, from
Ignorance of the truth or mistake regarding it, is no
heresy in the New Testament sense ; but only such
as springs from ambition, wilful sectarianism, love
of pre-eminence as in Diotrephes, or love of lucre,
"as it was in some that were of the circumcision." ^
" In all the animadversions against errors made by
the apostles in the New Testament, no pious per
son was condemned, no man that did invincibly err,
or bona mente; but something that was amiss in
* Ibid. that believes what, according to
2 Ibid., 9. Furtheroninthesame his light and upon the use of his
section, he says, in a passage of moral industry, he thinks true,
sterling truth and force : "Error is whether he hits upon the right or
not heresy formally, and an erring no, because he hath a mind desir-
person may be a Catholic. A ous of truth, and prepared to be-
wicked person in his error be- lieve every truth, is therefore ac-
comes heretic, when the good man ceptable to God, because nothing
in the same error shall have all hindered him from it but what he
the rewards of faith. For what- could not help— his misery and
ever an ill man believes, if he his weakness, which being imper-
therefore believe it because it fections merely natural, which
serves his own ends, be his belief God never punishes, he stands
true or false, the man hath an fair for a blessing of his moral-
heretical mind; for to serve his ity, which God always accepts."
own ends his mind is prepared to — 22.
believe a lie. But a good man

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 389
genere moru^m, was that which the apostles did
redargue. And it is very considerable that even
they of the circumcision, who, in so great numbers,
did heartily believe in Christ, and yet most violently
retain circumcision, and without question went to
heaven in great numbers ; yet of the number of these
very men, when they grew covetous, and for filthy
lucre's sake taught the same doctrine which others
did in the simplicity of their hearts, then they turned
heretics, and Titus was commanded to look to them,
and to silence them."^
So broadly and leniently does he fix the chaTacter
of heresy, that he is careful to discriminate between
an obstinacy of wilful persistence of error, which Is
highly criminal, and such an obstinacy as may spring
from a " resolution of understanding which it is not
in a man's power honestly to alter." ^ If a man can
not see reason for altering his opinion, he not only
may lawfully, but he must honestly maintain it ; only
he should do so in the spirit of love and peace, as St
Cyprian did, who persisted until death in his opinion
of the necessity of rebaptlsing heretics, but in such
a way as not to have " his obstinacy called criminal,
or his own error turned into heresy."^ " No man is
a heretic against his will."* And if it be pretended
that " every man that is deceived is therefore proud,
because he does not submit his understanding to the
authority of God, and so his error becomes heresy,"
to this he answers, just as Chillingworth did in the
same case, " that there is no Christian man but will
submit his understanding to God, always provided
1 Titus, i. 10, II ; ibid., 7. " Ibid., 10. ' Ibid. * Ibid., 12.

390 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
he knows that God hath said so."^ Submission to
authority, in short, is a good principle, which every
Christian man recognises ; but the recognition of the
principle is no warrant of any special application
made of it All the force of the principle depends
in every case upon the character of the authority.
Is it truly divine ? then it claims universal submis
sion. All who acknowledge God will acknowledge
God's authority. But then it must be evident that
the authority is divine, and nothing short of this, or
different from this. And so " the whole business of
subm'Itting our understanding to human authority
comes to nothing ; for either it resolves itself into
the direct duty of submitting to God, or, if it be
spoken of abstractedly, it is no duty at all." ^
Having thus defined the nature of heresy, he
occupies the rest of the chapter with a somewhat
detailed review of the various heresies in the early
Christian centuries. Even after the apostolic time,
he shows that no men were really esteemed heretics
unless they either " taught practical impieties or
denied an article of the Creed." ^ So long as the
" foundation " was preserved entire, great liberty of
opinion was permitted, and no man's error was con
demned as heresy. But the further men went from
the apostles, " the more forward were they in num
bering heresies."* And the state of the Church in
the second and third centuries appears to Taylor to
have promoted this growth of heresies ; for as yet
there was no general court or council of appeal on
disputed questions. Bishops were, for the most part,
1 Ibid., 12. " Ibid. ^ Ibid., 14. * Ibid., 17.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 391
independent in their respective provinces, and there
was no principle or criterion of Christian judgment
" besides the single dictates or decretals of private
bishops." Scripture was professed to be authori
tative by all, but the question was, as to the mean
ing of it. This multiplication of episcopal authority,
in matters of opinion, has led, according to him, to
great confusion and misconception in the traditional
lists or catalogues of heretics ; some men being con
demned for opinions the very reverse of what they
held, as Montanus is by Epiphanius and others, as
Nicholas the Deacon of Antioch Is by Jerome, hav
ing their views completely misrepresented by a per
version or exaggeration of their language. The ex
ample of Cyprian, however, shows that there was no
curtailment of Christian liberty within the Church
even during the third century. A liberty of pro
phesying or of interpretation was not forbidden to
any one, " if he transgressed not the foundation of
faith and the Creed ofthe Apostles." ^
The first violation of this freedom was " when
general councils came in, and the symbols were
enlarged, and new articles were made as much of
necessity to be believed as the Creed of the Apostles,
and damnation threatened to them that did dissent."
He expresses this opinion all the more forcibly be
cause he has no quarrel with " the enlarging of the
Creed which the Council of Nice made." It appears
to him to have been an enlargement in the true sense
of the apostles. But to others it appears in a dif
ferent light They think that the Church would
1 Ibid., 23.

392 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
have been more happy " if she had not been in some
sense constrained to alter the simplicity of her faith,
and make it more curious and articulate, so much
that he had need to be a subtle man to understand
the very words of the new determinations." Accord
ing to them, and evidently also according to his own
view, " Those creeds are best which keep the very
words of Scripture ; and that faith Is best which
hath greatest simplicity ; and it is better in all cases
humbly to submit, than curiously to inquire and pry
into the mystery under the cloud, and to hazard our
faith by improving our knowledge." -"^ The Nicene
Fathers are admitted to have done well in their
peculiar circumstances in enlarging and defining the
Creed ; yet they would have done still better, Taylor
thinks, in leaving it undefined. For an authorita
tive definition, as in the case of the o^oova-iov, al
though it may be of good use " to determine the
judgment of indifferent persons," is apt to be " a
weapon of affront" against the scrupulous in the
hands of " persons of confident and imperious under
standings ;" while " they against whom the decision
is do the more readily betake themselves to the
defensive, and are engaged upon contestation and
public enmities for such articles which either might
safely be unknown or with much charity disputed." ^
" Therefore," he adds, " the Nicene Council, although
it have the advantage of an acquired and prescrib
ing authority, yet it must not become a precedent to
others ; lest the inconveniences of multiplying more
articles upon as great pretence of reason as then,
' Ibid., 27. » Ibid., 33.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 393
make the act of the Nicene Fathers, in straitening
prophesying and enlarging the Creed, become acci
dentally an Inconvenience."^
The power is a dangerous one, although in this
case it was well exercised. It is like an arbitrary
power, which, so long as it takes only sixpence from
the subject, produces no inconvenience, but which,
by the same reason, may take a hundred pounds,
and then a thousand. And so sensible of this were
the early Fathers themselves, that, as is well known,
they pronounced at the Council of Ephesus anathema
on all those who should add anything to the Creed.^
" And yet for all this," he continues, " the Church of
Rome added the clause ' Filioque' to the article of
the procession of the Holy Ghost, and what they
have done since all the world knows. All men
were persuaded that it was most reasonable the
limits of faith should be no more enlarged, but
yet enlarged it themselves, and bound others from
doing it, like an intemperate father, who, because
he knows he does ill himself, enjoins temper-
^ Ibid., 33. form as adequate for all theologi-
^ Taylor says " the Creed of cal purposes. It was not till the
Constantinople," following the fourth general council, in 451,
common tradition which ascribes that the Creed now known as
the enlargement of the third part "that of Constantinople," orsome-
of the Creed to the second Ecu- times spoken of as the " Niceno-
menical Council which ;^met at Constantinopolitan," crept into
Constantinople in 381. But it is use, and became generally pro-
now well known that in the re- fessed by the Christian Church,
cords of this council there is no with the exception of the Nesto-
trace of any additions having been rians, who had been previously
proposed or made to the Creed of separated from the general Church
NicEea. This Creed, on the con- at Chalcedon in 431.
trary, is appealed to in its primary

394 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
ance to his son, but continues to be intemperate
himself" 1
Of the Athanasian Creed it may be supposed
Taylor expresses a very modified approval. For
the articles themselves, he is persuaded of their
truth ; yet he admits that to many people they are
unintelligible, contrary to reason, and in their " curio
sities of explication unwarranted by Scripture." The
" damnatory appendix" is entirely ifnjustlfiable ; " be
cause ' citra hoc symbolum,' the faith of the apos
tles is entire ; and ' he that believeth and is baptised
shall be saved.' " ^ Admitting the Creed to be the
production of Athanasius, there is no evidence that
he designed it as a symbol of communion. Accord
ing to Aquinas it was made " non per modum sym
boli, sed per modum doctrlnse," that it is " not with
a purpose to Impose It upon others, but with confi
dence to declare his own belief" To prescribe It to
others as a creed was the act of the bishops of
Rome. But it is doubtful, Taylor recognises, whether
it be the Creed of Athanasius at all, the original
being evidently Latin, and not Greek. ^ He affirms,
at the same time, that even the Athanasian Creed
makes no pretence of adding any new articles to the
Christian faith, but simply of explaining further the
" articles apostolical." If It be maintained that the
explanations are to be received as necessarily " of
faith " as the dogmatical articles of the Apostles'
Creed," Taylor abandons their defence. But the
^ Ibid., 35. Latin, which in all reason Atha-
' Ibid., 36. nasius did not, it being apparent
' Ibid. His words are — " This that the Latin copy is but one,
Creed was written originally in but the Greek is various.''

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THiE CHURCH. 395
saying of Athanasius, " This is the Catholic faith,"
is at least a warrant that " no man can say of any
other article that It Is a part of the Catholic faith, or
that the Catholic faith can be enlarged beyond the
contents of that symbol."
In conclusion, he recurs to the Apostles' Creed
as the only necessary symbol of Christian com
munion. It was so in the early Christian age ;
and " dare any man tax that proceeding of remiss
ness and indifference in religion ? " The Creed is
an adequate security of faith. It contains implicitly,
if not explicitly, all other articles ; and " it Is better
the implication should continue than that by an
explication the Church should be troubled with
questions and uncertain determinations, and factions
enkindled, and animosities set on foot, and men's
souls endangered, who before were secure by the
explicit belief of all that the apostles required as
necessary." \
The sum of his argument is, that whereas the
nature of faith is In all cases moral, and not merely
intellectual, binding us to honour Christ, and to obey
Him, so heresy " is to be judged by its proportion
and analogy to faith." Heresy Is only that which is
against faith in the true sense — that is to say, which
strikes at the foundation of Christianity embodied
in the Apostles' Creed, or "teaches ill life." All
other propositions which are " extrinsical to these
two considerations," whether they be true or false,
are not heretical.
3. In the six following sections of his work, Taylor
^ Ibid., 40.

396 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
passes under review the alleged special sources of
authority in religious opinion : Scripture, Tradition,
Ecclesiastical Councils, the Pope, and the Fathers.
He adds a brief section on the " Church In its
diffusive capacity," and the " Pretence of the Spirit."
But he thinks it unnecessary to consider these at
length. For the Church must either " speak by
tradition, or by a representative body in a council,
by Popes, or by the Fathers." ^ It is not " a chimera
or shadow,^ but a company of men believing In Jesus
Christ," whose opinions can only be known by one
or other of those channels. The pretence of the
Spirit, again, even If admissible, is " impertinent " to
the question, because in its nature it Is only of
private application. Such " infallible assistance," he
says, " may determine my own assent but shall not
enable me to prescribe to others." ^ The other pro
fessed sources of infallibility deserve more particular
consideration, and may be viewed together as a
distinct division of his work.
(a.) All " necessary " articles of faith, as well as
of practice, are "plainly and clearly set down in
Scripture." The Gospel is not hid except to them
^ Sect. ix. I. Church, but merely wished to
^ Coleridge quarrels with Tay- make it clear that its voice could
lor as to these expressions, in his only be known through some de-
peculiar manner (Notes, &c., i. finite channel. Coleridge is think-
225.) But here as elsewhere in ing more of himself and of his
his elaborate "notes" on the ' Li- own transcendentalism, than of
berty of Prophesying,' he mistakes doing justice to Taylor ; and this
Taylor, and makes no allowance pretentious egoism runs unplea-
for his special point of view and santly through all his ' Notes on
the context of the argument. Tay- English Divines.'
lor had no intention of denying ^ Hjid.^ j.
the substantive entity of , the

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 397
who refuse to see and acknowledge it. But beyond
such a simple knowledge of the truth as makes
us " wise unto salvation," there is no infallible
declaration of theological opinion in Scripture, or,
at least, men have no infallible means of deter
mining what this opinion Is. " Besides those things
which are so plainly set down, ' some for doctrine,'
as St Paul says — that is, for articles and founda
tion of faith — some for Instruction, some for reproof,
some for comfort — that is. In matters practical and
speculative — of several tempers and constitutions ;
there are innumerable places, containing in them
great mysteries, but yet either so enwrapped with
a cloud, or so darkened with umbrages, or height
ened with expressions, or so covered with allegories
and garments of rhetoric, so profound in the matter,
or so altered or made intricate in the manner, in
the clothing and dressing, that God may seem to
have left them as trials of our industry, and argu
ments of our imperfections, and incentives to the
longings after heaven, and the clearest revelations
of eternity, and as occasions and opportunities of our
mutual charity, and toleration to each other, and
humility in ourselves, rather than the repositories of
faith and furniture of creeds and articles of belief" ^
He dwells at some length on the varieties of
copies and readings of Holy Scripture, on the many
senses and designs of expounding it, its figurative
and double meanings. What he says on these sub
jects is not much to the point, and modern criticism
would not stumble at some of the difficulties he sets
^ Sect. iii. 2.

398 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
forth. His general argument, however, remains
quite untouched by any progress of criticism.
Where a question arises as to the meaning of
Scripture, we have no means of determining it
" infallibly and certainly." No one is entitled to
dictate to another as to what he shall accept as
the meaning of Scripture, and the necessity hence
arises of " allowing a liberty in prophesying with
out prescribing authoritatively to other men's con
sciences, and becoming lords and masters of their
faith." After explaining various ways of reaching
the meaning of Scripture, by " the context and con
nection of the parts," by " the conference of places,"
by " a proportion and analogy of reason," by " the
analogy of faith," and, lastly, by "consulting the
originals," he concludes that all these ways — ¦
"Which of themselves are good helps, are made,
either by design or by our infirmities,, ways of
intricating and involving Scripture in greater diffi
culty — ^because men do not learn their doctrines
from Scripture, but come to the understanding - of
Scripture with preconceptions and ideas of doctrines
of their own ; and then no wonder that Scriptures
look like pictures, wherein every man in the room
believes that they look on him only, and that where
soever he stands, or how often soever he changes
his station. So that now what was intended for a
remedy becomes the promoter of our disease, and
our meat becomes the matter of sickness ; and the
mischief is, the wit of man cannot find a remedy
for it ; for there is no rule, no limit, no certain
principle by which all men may be guided to a

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 399
certain and so infallible an interpretation that he
can with any equity prescribe to others to believe
his interpretations in places of controversy or am
biguity." 1
And in evidence of this, Taylor proceeds to show
that, even in the case of what appears to many so
clear and determinate a prophecy as that of Jacob
about the sceptre not departing from Judah " till
Shiloh come," the Jews have no fewer than twenty-
six explanations ; while in reference to the diversity
of St James and St Paul regarding Justification — a
diversity, he adds, " to my understanding, very easy
to reconcile " — Osiander observes, in his confutation
of the book which Melanchthon wrote against him,
that there are twenty several opinions concerning
Justification, all drawn from the Scriptures by men
only of the Augustine Confession." " There are,"
Taylor adds, " sixteen several opinions concerning
Original Sin, and as many definitions of the Sacra
ments as there are sects of men that disagree about
them."^ The result of the two chapters which he
devotes to the consideration of Holy Scripture Is,
that, while it contains plainly, in a manner apparent
to all, the articles of the Apostles' Creed, which are
therefore of " simple and prime necessity," there is
nothing further which " a wise man " would wish to
have imposed upon himself, or which " a just man "
would wish to impose upon others. A liberty of pro
phesying and interpreting Scripture is, therefore,
the right of every man — " a necessity derived from
the consideration of the difficulty of Scripture in
^ Sect. iv. 6. ^ Ibid.

400 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
questions controverted, and the uncertainty of any
internal medium of interpretation." ^
{b.) Tradition, which he next considers, is affirmed
to be as fallible as anything else. The Fathers
themselves possessed no consistent traditional
guide. On the contrary, they were " infinitely
deceived in their account and enumerations of
traditions." ^ And the further we descend from
the fountain-head of the Christian revelation, the
more varying and contradictory is found to be the
course of tradition. Augustine maintained the
communicating of infants to be an apostolic tradi
tion ; and many other things, notoriously of later
and corrupt growth, were traced back to a primi
tive sanction. On the other hand, many things of
apostolic custom have " expired and gone out in
a desuetude— such as abstinence from blood and
things strangled — the coenobitic life of secular per
sons — the college of widows — to worship standing
upon the Lord's Day — to give milk and honey to the
newly baptised — and many more of the like nature." ^
Moreover, the Fathers themselves are found to
appeal from tradition and custom to Holy Scripture.
Irenseus, Basil, Jerome, Augustine, Athanasius, and
divers others, all unite in the saying of St Paul,
" nemo sentiat super quod scriptum est" * All, in
effect maintain that every article of faith is suffi
ciently recorded in Holy Scripture, and that " the
judgment of faith and heresy is to be derived from
thence " alone.^
iSect. iv. 8. * Ibid., II.
' Sect. V. 3. s Ibid.
3 Ibid., 8.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 4OI
(c.) The judgment of general councils carries with
them no further weight than belongs to their intrinsic
reasonableness. They have no promise of super
natural direction beyond what belongs to every
individual. Every private man will be assisted
sufficiently by the Holy Spirit " in order to that
end to which he needs assistance; and therefore
much more shall general councils, in order to that
end for which they convene, and to which they need
assistance — that is, in order to the conservation of
faith, for the doctrinal rules of good life, and all that
concerns the essential duty of a Christian, but not in
deciding questions to satisfy contentious or curious
or presumptuous spirits."^ He explains how general
councils have never been pronounced by the Church
and never been accepted as infallible ; how they
have contradicted each other, and in some cases
been notoriously corrupt. The opinion of Gregory
Nazianzen is quoted to the effect that he had such
a poor opinion of councils of bishops that he had
" never known one of them come to any good and
prosperous issue, or which did not rather tend to the
Increase than the diminution of wickedness." ^ He
refrains, at the same time, from endorsing this opin
ion, and sets forth in a fair and discriminating manner
what he conceives to be the true uses of Church
councils. .They may be "excellent Instruments of
peace," " rare sermons for determining a point In con
troversy," and possess " the greatest probability from
human authority;" but further he knew nothing
they can pretend to be, " with reason and argument
^ Sect. vi. i. ^ Epistle to Procopius ; ibid., 1 1.
VOL. I. 2 C

402 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
sufficient to satisfy any wise man." There never
was any council so general that it might not have
been more general, in respect of the whole Church.
Even that of Nice itself was but a small assembly.
There is no decree so well constituted but it may be
proved by an argument higher than the authority of
a council. General councils are therefore, in their
several degrees, " excellent guides for the prophets,
and directions and instructions for their prophesying ;
but not of weight and authority to restrain their
liberty so wholly but that they may dissent where
they see a reason strong enough to persuade them."^
[d.) It is unnecessary to dwell upon his special
argument respecting the claim of Papal infallibility.
He first deals with the usual Scriptural argument as
to the special powers alleged to be vested in the
apostle Peter, and then, making the supposition
that there is something in these arguments, which
he does not allow, he points out the absurdity of
the Pope claiming to represent St Peter. So far
from the Popes or their successors having any claim to
expound the truth infallibly, there have been among
them some " notorious heretics and preachers of
false doctrines ; some that made impious decrees,
both in faith and manners ; some that have deter
mined questions with egregious ignorance and stu
pidity ; some with apparent sophistry, and many to
serve their own ends most openly." 2 In short, he
comes to the conclusion that. If he were bound to
call any man master upon earth, he would, " of all
men, least follow him that pretends he is infallible,
1 Ibid., 12. 2 Sect. vii. 15.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 403
and cannot prove it For that he cannot prove it
makes me as uncertain as ever ; and that he pretends
to infallibility makes him careless of using such
means which will morally secure those wise persons
who, knowing their own aptness to be deceived, use
what endeavours they can to secure themselves from
error, and so become the better and more probable
guides." ^
(e.) The inconsistencies of the Fathers, and their
consequent disability to determine questions with cer
tainty and truth, are next insisted upon in a separate
section. He points out the various topics on which
they have disagreed, and the errors, such as Chiliasm
and infant-communicating, which have widely pre
vailed among them. He alludes to Daille's well-
known work, ' Du vrai Usage des Peres,' then
lately published, and seems to coincide with its
general conclusions. At the same time he abstains
from " all disparagement of these worthy personages,
who were excellent lights to their several dioceses
and cures. . . . It is not to be denied but that great
advantages are to be made by their writings, ' all of
them containing some probable things, according to
their wisdom.' If one wise man," he adds forcibly,
" says a thing, it is an argument to me to believe in
Its degree of probation— that is, proportionable to
such an assent as the authority of a wise man can
produce, and when there is nothing against it that is
greater. But that which I complain of is, that we
look upon wise men that lived long ago with so
much veneration, and mistake that we reverence
1 Ibid., 18.

404 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
them not for having been wise men, but that they
lived long since." ^
4. Having thus examined and discarded all these
several sources of pretended authority in theological
opinion, he turns. In a very pregnant and interesting
section,^ to discuss " the authority of reason, and
that it, proceeding upon best grounds, is the best
judge." His conclusions here are substantially the
same as those of Chillingworth. Reason and private
judgment must be the last authority of every man in
the face of Scripture. Both of them would have
strongly repudiated what In our days is known as
Rationalism, or the exaltation of the private under
standing In the place of divine revelation. It never
occurred to them to doubt the reality of revelation,
and its supremacy over the conscience and reason.
The question is not one as to the ultimate source of
religious truth. This was admitted beyond doubt
to be the divine revelation in Scripture. But, ad
mitting this, there remained the question as to the
interpretation of this revelation ; and here it is that
both Chillingworth and Taylor assert in the strong
est manner the claims of reason. What the truth is
as revealed in Scripture every man must " be trusted
to judge for himself I say," he adds, " every man
that can judge at all ; as for others, they are to be
saved as it pleaseth God." "He that follows his
own reason, not guided only by natural arguments,
but by divine revelation and all other good means,
hath great advantages over him that follows any
human guide whatsoever, because he follows all
1 Sect. viii. 3. 2 ^^^^ ^

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 405
their reason and his own too."^ In the conscientious
exercise of private judgment there is, in short, the
best security for right religious opinions ; and if,
with all our pains and diligence to investigate the
truth, we should, after all, fall into error, it is to be
borne in mind that " it is not required of us not to
be in error, but that we may endeavour to avoid it"
This last touch is extremely like Chillingworth. It
is the very echo of his manly sense and charity ; and
the whole of the section reminds us of some of the
best passages in the ' Religion of Protestants.' In
telligent inquiry is enforced as a Christian duty no
less than intelligent obedience. We are commanded
to " search the Scriptures," to " try the spirits, whe
ther they be of God or no ; to try all things, and to
retain that which is best. For he that resolves not
to consider, resolves not to be careful whether he
hath truth or no, and therefore hath an affection
indifferent to truth or falsehood, which is all one as
if he did choose amiss." And not only is inquiry
a duty, it is a necessity for every man. All men
really follow the guidance of their own judgment in
some degree, although they may profess to follow
other guides. If they accept the Church on tradi
tion or a certain sense of Scripture, it is because
they have some reason for what they do. " Although
all men are not wise, and proceed discreetly, yet all
make their choice some way or other. He that
chooses to please his fancy takes his choice as
much as he that chooses prudently. And no man
speaks more unreasonably than he that denies to
1 Sect. V. 2.

4o6 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
men the use of their reason in choice of their
religion." ^
It will be seen, therefore, that the general position
of Taylor in the ' Liberty of Prophesying ' is identi
cal with that of Chillingworth in the ' Religion of
Protestants.' The conclusions which the latter
reaches in a special conflict with the resurgent spirit
of Romanism in England in the time of Laud, the
former maintains professedly in a treatise written
with a view to still the strife of ecclesiastical bigotry
and faction in the time of the civil war. Chilling
worth shows a firmer mastery of principles, a more
downright and vigorous thoughtfulness, in the midst
of all the special details of his argument ; but Taylor
draws out his principles with a more comprehensive
range and purpose, and sets the problem of his time
— the reconstltution of the Church on an evangelical
yet tolerant basis — in a more definite light This
problem appears in Chillingworth's pages only indi
rectly. But this is expressly the question which
Taylor set himself to solve in the view of the jarring
parties of his time. His solution is that the Church
should rest on the Apostles' Creed — neither more
nor less ; and that there should be the widest tole
ration of opinions ranging from Anabaptism to
Popery. He devotes a special section to the dis
cussion of the case of the Anabaptists, and concludes
that as " there is no direct impiety In their opinion,"
and so much which may be fairly urged in its de
fence, they are to be " redargued or instructed," but in
1 Ibid., s.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 407
no respect to be coerced. His liberality towards a
sect so hateful to all classes of dogmatists in the
seventeenth century, and the extremely impartial
manner in which he had set forth what might tend
in behalf of their opinions, involved him in special
suspicion, and he felt himself under the necessity of
answering, in an appendix, his own arguments on
behalf of this sect. Nothing Is more creditable to
Taylor than his frank liberality in this case, as no
thing can better illustrate the intolerant spirit of the
seventeenth century dogmatism than the obligation
under which he felt of showing that his " meaning "
was " Innocent ; " and that while maintaining that an
ample case could be made out for the toleration of
the Anabaptists, he did not mean in any respect to
weaken what he believed to be the truth, or " to dis
courage the right side." To Taylor there was no
error intolerable which was not impious or licentious,
opposed to the fundamental principles of the Chris
tian religion or to good morals and government ; and
the Christian Church, instead of seeking to narrow its
terms of communion, was bound by every considera
tion of Christian truth and policy to open its doors as
widely as possible for all who would come in. The
" faith of the apostles " entitles all who hold it to
" the communion of saints." " To make the way to
heaven straiter than God made it, or to deny to com
municate with those whom God will vouchsafe to be
invited, and to refuse our charity to those who have
the same faith because they have not all our opinions,
is impious and schismatical ; it infers tyranny on one

408 JEREMY TAYLOR : LIBERTY OF
part, and persuades and tempts to uncharitableness
and animosities on both." ^
There is no reason why individual Christians
should not communicate with Churches of " different
persuasions." If they require no impiety or anything
unlawful as the condition of their communion, com
munion with them merely Implies that we acknow
ledge them "as servants of Christ, as disciples of
His doctrine, and subjects to His laws," while their
"particular distinguishing doctrine" has no effect
with us.
Beyond the primitive _/«^/.y ofthe Gospel, in short,
Taylor does not recognise any valid basis for the
Christian Church, or any valid terms of Christian
communion. He was, no doubt, as we have seen,
himself an earnest defender of Episcopacy. For the
perfect order of the Church he would certainly have
maintained the necessity of Episcopal government
and of liturgical worship. His writings leave this
beyond question. But that Episcopacy or a liturgy
has anything to do essentially with a man being
a Christian, or with the recognition of Christian
brotherhood, is an opinion opposed to the whole
spirit of his great treatise, and to many of its express
statements. A Christian is one who accepts Christ
as his Saviour and Lord, and orders his life under
the inspiration of this simple but mighty faith ; a
Christian Church is a society of men who acknow
ledge the same faith and walk by the same rule.
These are the essentials ; all else is accidental. No
error is damnable which may be held with an honest
' Sect. xxi. I.

CHRISTIAN TEACHING WITHIN THE CHURCH. 409
mind. " It concerns all persons to see that they do
their best to find out truth ; and if they do, it is cer
tain that, let the error be never so damnable, they
shall escape the error or the misery of being damned
for it And if God will not be angry with men for
being Invincibly deceived, why should men be angry
one at another ? " ^ " All opinions in which the
public interests of the commonwealth, and the foun
dation of faith and a good life, are not concerned,
are to be permitted freely. ' Let every one be per
suaded In his own mind,' was the doctrine of St
Paul, and that is argument and conclusion too ; and
they were excellent words which St Ambrose said
in attestation of this great truth, — ' Imperial author
ity has no right to interdict the liberty of speaking,
or sacerdotal authority to prevent the speaking of
what you think." ^
Nothing can be more beautiful than the close of
Taylor's treatise. It condenses in a parable the
whole pith of his argument ; and the effect lingers
in the memory as a lofty strain of music which has
melted into pathos ere it dies. " I end with a story,"
he says, " which I find in the Jews' books." It was
long doubtful whether Taylor did not mean under
this indefinite nomenclature to hide an invention of
his own rich and beautiful fancy; but, as Heber ex
plains, the source of the story has at length been
discovered, not in a Jewish work, but in a tale of
the Persian poet Saadi. The story is as follows :
" When Abraham sat at his tent-door, according to
1 Sect. xxii. 3. dicendi negate ; nee sacerdotale
2 " Nee imperiale est, libertatem quod sentias non dicere."— Ibid.

4IO JEREMY TAYLOR.

his custom, waiting to entertain strangers, he espied
an old man stooping and leaning on his staff, weary
with age and travail, coming towards him, who was
an hundred years of age. He received him kindly,
washed his feet, provided supper, caused him to sit
down ; but observing that the old man sat and
prayed not, nor begged for a blessing on his meat,
he asked him why he did not worship the God of
heaven. The old man told him that he worshipped
the fire only, and acknowledged no other God. At
which answer Abraham grew so zealously angry
that he thrust the old man out of his tent, and ex
posed him to all the evils of the night and an un
guarded condition. When the old man was gone,
God called to Abraham and asked him where the
stranger was ; he replied, ' I thrust him away because
he did not worship Thee.' God answered him, ' I
have suffered him these hundred years, although he
dishonoured me ; and couldst not thou endure him
one night when he gave thee no trouble ? ' Upon
this, saith the story, Abraham fetched him back
again, and gave him hospitable entertainment and
wise instruction." " Go thou and do likewise," he
adds, " and thy charity will be rewarded by the God
of Abraham."
The lesson is one, unhappily, which requires
constant repetition in the history of the Christian
Church.

411

VIL
EDWARD STILLINGFLEET— THE IRENICUM OF A
COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH.
The life of Stillingfleet does not belong to our
subject His main activity as a theological writer
and as a Churchman is associated with the Church
of the Restoration and Revolution, to the defence
and maintenance of which he brought something
of the tolerant and enlightened spirit which he
had learned at Cambridge, and which finds ex
pression in the ' Irenicum,' but with whose nar
rowness and meanness of policy he was, upon the
whole, Identified. In a certain measure he remained
true to his early convictions, as the lengthened pre
face to the treatise on the ' Unreasonableness of
Separation' shows. He had nothing to do with the
Act of Uniformity (his youth happily saved him
from this), or with any of the persecuting Acts of
the reign of Charles II. Even In his controversy
with Owen and Baxter he cannot be said to have
occupied the illiberal side. But withal he lacked
vitality of liberal conviction, and a generous trust in
his o-wn principles to save and bless the Church for
which he was so zealous. He was a specimen, in
short, of many men, both Churchmen and politicians,

412 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
whose early liberalism degenerates with their ad
vancement in life, under the pressure of those class
feelings which grow with the growth of all but the
most open, honest, and rational natures. Their
liberalism is the result of education, or of temporary
enthusiasm, or the excitement of the times in which
they live ; but it never works thoroughly into their
reason so as to illuminate, control, and guide it.
Traditionalism, in consequence, by-and-by regains
ascendancy over them. The snares of office or
the deceitfulness of party choke the good seed of
liberal feeling, and gradually It wears away. And
men of this stamp, who gloried in their youth in
bearing some banner of reform, often become at last
the most jealous guardians of official dogma, and the
most unreasoning critics of new ideas.
If Stillingfleet cannot be accused of formal apos
tasy from his early principles, his career as a rising
Churchman, his natural temper, and his somewhat
cold, hard, and argumentative, rather than rational
turn of mind, easily inclined him to the winning side
in his time, and made him In his later years look
back upon the ' Irenicum ' as a mere youthful essay,
conceived rather out of "tenderness towards the
Dissenters "^ than In the interests of truth and peace.
This is not the language of a man who thoroughly
understood and prized the principles of religious
liberty. Nor does the life, which narrowed rather
than broadened in sympathy, and which grew more
' " A book written twenty years were established!'' — Preface to the
since with great tenderness to- 'Unreasonableness of Separation,'
wards Dissenters before the laws 1680.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 413
limited and precise Instead of more profound and
comprehensive in its intellectual range, mingle in
the thread of our history.
The following bare statement of facts, therefore,
must suffice as an introduction to our review of the
' Irenicum.' Edward Stillingfleet was a native of Cranbourne,
in Dorsetshire, where he was born in the year 1635.
He was educated at St John's College, Cambridge,
and distinguished himself by " his singular ingenuity
and constant improvement." His course of study
extended from 1648 to 1655, when the new school
of Cambridge divines, represented by Whichcote,
and John Smith, and Cudworth, was in the full
height of its activity. This of itself is sufficient to
account for Stillingfleet's liberal leanings. Cam
bridge was now, rather than Oxford, the centre of
the liberal theological movement. The wave of
rational thought had, in the course of ten eventful
years, passed from the one university to the other,
and there taken a wider shape and influence, ex
tending not merely to ecclesiastical questions, but to
the whole field of religion and the sources of philo
sophical and moral truth. The rise, progress, and
results of the school known as the Cambridge Pla
tonists, await investigation. In the mean time, it Is
enough to fix and mark the significance of the fact
that Stillingfleet was educated in the midst of it He
could not help catching something of the spirit which
pervaded the place ; and if he did not come under
its deeper influences, yet both the ' Origines Sacrae '
and ' Irenicum ' show that his mind had been thor-

414 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET: THE IRENICUM
oughly awakened to the religious problems of his
time, and that he had learned something of the
rational Christian eclecticism, through which alone
these problems could have been solved fairly, and
the country saved from the disgraceful iniquities of
the Restoration.
Stillingfleet passed from Cambridge to be tutor to
the family of Sir Francis Burgoin, in Warwickshire,
and subsequently to Nottingham, as tutor to the
eldest son of a Mr Plerrepoint, connected with the
Marquis of Dorchester. Here he Is said to have
begun — presumably in 1656 — the ' Irenicum.' It
was not completed, however, till three years later,
and probably he made little progress with it till
settled as rector of Sutton, to which living he was
appointed by his earliest patron. Sir Francis Burgoin,
in 1657. He was episcopally ordained by Dr Brown-
rig, one of the ejected bishops, a fact of which much
is made by the panegyrical biographer, who has
sketched his life in very dull and unmeaning outline
as an introduction to the folio edition of his works. -^
The young rector of Sutton was in the full flush of
his well-trained faculties, fresh from the generous
intellectual life of Cambridge, with his mind keenly
alive to the ecclesiastical difficulties of the age. He
felt that he could do something to help these diffi
culties. The ' Irenicum ' was the result It was
published in 1659, on the eve of the Restoration,
and reprinted three years later, in 1662, the year in
which the Act of Uniformity was passed. This was
the answer which the age gave by a severe irony of
' 17 10.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 415
criticism to his eclectic proposal. In the same year
appeared his ' Origines Sacrae, or a Rational Account
of the Christian Faith as to the Truth and Divine
Authority of the Scriptures, and the matter therein
contained.' The chief events of Stillingfleet's life henceforth are
summed up in his successive promotions and contro
versies. He was appointed Rector of St Andrew's,
Holbom, in 1665 ; first a Canon, and then Dean of St
Paul's (1680?); and, finally. Bishop of Worcester, 1689.
He distinguished himself in conflict with the Papists,
the Deists and Atheists of the time, the Socinians,
and the new school of philosophy represented by
Locke. It is impossible not to admire with Claren
don " the strength and vigour of ratiocination and
the clearness of style and expression " in his several
writings. He is a skilful, well-trained, powerful con
troversialist. Whether he appears as a pseudony
mous assailant of the Papal religion and policy, or as
an advocate of the foundations of Christian belief, or
as a defender of the doctrine of the Atonement or
the doctrine of the Trinity, which he considered to
be imperilled by Locke's theory of ideas, he shows
the facility, vigour, and hopefulness of a well-dis
ciplined intellect, and a copious store of argumenta
tive resources. He is a theological champion, an
ecclesiastical giant-killer, who watches continually
from the sacred ramparts for the foes of the Church
— Papal, Separatist, Philosophical — and goes forth
with elate and joyous heart to meet and overthrow
them. But with all his vigour and clearness there
are none of his writings which have much life of

4X6 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
thought. They are clever, able, and were eminently
successful in their day ; but they lack the vital in
terest which only some spark of nature, some fire of
passion, or some glow of meditative or speculative
genius can give to theological polemics. His youth
ful essay is, in many respects, his highest work. It
possesses nearly all the argumentative force, the
masterly logic, of his later writings ; while It is dis
tinguished above them all by catholicity of spirit, by
rapidity, animation, and concinnity of treatment.
The full title of the essay is ' Irenicum, a Weapon
Salve for the Church's Wound; or, the Divine Right
of Particular Forms of Church Government, dis
cussed and examined according to the principles of
the Law of Nature, the positive Law of God, the
practice of the Apostles and the primitive Church,
and the judgment of Reformed Divines. Whereby
a foundation is laid for the Church's peace, and the
accommodation of our present differences,' The
key-note is effectively struck in the succession of
mottoes which follow on the title-page : first, from
the Epistle to the Philippians, — " Let your modera
tion be known unto all men;"^ then from the letter
of Isaac Casaubon to Cardinal Perron ; and, lastly,
from the treatise of Grotius on the relation of civil and
ecclesiastical authority — pointing to the great distinc
tion betwixt a jus divinuwi In the Church, and an
authority which is merely regulative or expedient.^
^ iv. 5. quse sunt absolute necessaria in-
^ " Si ad decidendas hodiernas ter pios aut moderatos longa aut
controversias — jus divinum k posi- acris contentio futura." — Isaac
tivo seu Ecclesiastico candide se- Casaubon, Ep. ad Card. Perron.
pararetur ; non videretur de iis " Multum refert ad retinendam

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 417
The year 1659, In which the ' Irenicum' was pub
lished, was a year of political perplexity, and of the
forecasts of coming change. The great Protector had
died in the previous autumn, and the reins of gov
ernment were already falling from the hands of his
feeble son. Before the spring was over, he had
signed his demission, and retired into the private
life for which alone nature had fitted him. The
Parliament and the army once more shared, but with
very divided and jealous councils, the supreme
authority. It was obvious that the period was a
transitional one. Monk was already meditating his
march from Scotland. Common apprehensions were
drawing the Presbyterians and the older Royalists
together. They remembered the miseries of mis
government through which the country had come
before the strong hand of Cromwell was laid upon it,
and the special humiliations which they had both
endured at the hands of military and Parliamentary
officers, who valued neither Presbytery nor Epis
copacy. They began to feel the necessity of com
mon action, and even of softening in some degree
their mutual asperities.
It was in such circumstances that the old Idea of
" accommodation," which Usher had conceived and
Hales and Chillingworth would have welcomed, once
more revived, and that Stillingfleet became its ex
positor. The character of the political situation
suggested anew to thoughtful minds the possibility
Ecclesiarum pacem inter ea quse Grotius de Imper. sum. Potestat.
jure divino prasceptse sunt et quas circa Sacra, cap. ii.
non sunt accurate distinguere." —
VOL. I. 2D

41 8 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
of an ecclesiastical compromise. Could not the ad
vantages of Episcopacy and Presbytery be united
on some rational basis of expediency ? Is there any
thing so exclusively divine in either as to prevent
this ? Is there any jus divinum in Church govern
ment at all in such a sense as to hinder wise men
from acknowledging the force of circumstances, and
composing their religious differences ? This was the
Important question which, in the face of approaching
changes, Stillingfleet set himself to re-examine.
In his preface he draws a highly-coloured picture
of the evils which the long-protracted religious dis
cord had produced : " Controversies about religion
had increased till they had brought religion itself
into a controversy. Religion hath been so much
rarefied Into airy notions and speculations by the
distempered zeal of men's spirits, that Its inward
strength and the vitals of it have been much con
sumed. Curiosity, that green-sickness of the soul,
whereby it longs for novelties and loathes sound
wholesome truths, hath been the epidemical dis
temper of the age we live in ; of which it may be as
truly said, as ever yet of any, that it was scsculum
fertile religionis sterile pietatis. I fear this will be
the character whereby our age will be known to
posterity, that It was the age wherein men talked of
religion most, and lived it least" — " Men being
loath to put themselves to the trouble of a holy life,
readily embrace anything which may dispense with
that," and hence enrol themselves as parties, and
attach a religious Importance to the most trifling
party distinctions. " All the several parties among

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 419
us," he continues, " have given such glorious names
only to the outward government of the Church —
' the undeniable practice of the apostles,' ' the dis
cipline of Christ,' ' the order of the Gospel' — and
account only that the Church where their own
method of government is observed." — " From this
monopolising of Churches to parties" hath proceeded
the uncharitableness which was constantly " break
ing out Into open flame," and the most violent
"heart-burning and contentions."^ The only effec
tual remedy appeared to Stillingfleet to be " an
Infusion of the true spirit of religion — the revulsion
of the extravasated blood into its proper channels,
thereby taking men off from their eager pursuit after
ways and parties, notions and opinions, and bringing
them back to a right understanding of the nature,
design, and principles of Christianity."
He explains Christianity as a religion of peace and
tolerance, and sets forth, in the spirit of Chilling
worth and Taylor, that the design of Christ was " to
ease men of their former burdens, and not to lay on
more." For the Church, therefore, to " require more
than Christ Himself did," or " make other conditions
of her communion than our Saviour did of disciple-
ship, is wholly unwarrantable." " What possible
reason can be assigned or given why such things
should not be sufficient for communion with a
Church which are sufficient for eternal salvation ?
And certainly those things are sufficient for that
which are laid down as the necessary duties of
Christianity by our Lord and Saviour in His Word.
^ Preface to the Reader.

420 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
What ground can there be why Christians should
not stand upon the same terms now which they
did in the time of Christ and His apostles ? Was
not religion sufficiently guarded and fenced in by
him ? The grand commission the apostles were
sent out with, was only to teach what Christ had
commanded them, — Not the least intimation of any
power given them to impose or require anything
beyond what Himself had spoken to them, or they
were directed to by the immediate guidance of the
Spirit of God. It is not whether the things required
be lawful or no, it Is not whether indifferences be
determined or no, it is not how far Christians are
bound to submit to a restraint of their Christian
liberty, which I now inquire after (of these things in
the treatise itself), but whether they do consult for
the Church's peace and unity who suspend it upon
such things. . . . Without all controversy, the
main inlet of all the distractions, confusions, and
divisions of the Christian world hath been by adding
other conditions bf Church communion than Christ
hath done. . . . Would there ever be the less
peace and unity in a Church if a diversity were
allowed as to practices supposed indifferent ? Yea,
there would be so much more as there was a mutual
forbearance and condescension as to such things.
The unity of the Church is a unity of love and
affection, and not a bare uniformity of practice or
opinion. . . . There is nothing the primitive
Church deserves greater imitation by us in than in
that admirable temper, moderation, and condescen
sion which was used in it towards all the members of

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 42I
it. It was never thought worth the while to make
any standing laws for rites and customs that had no
other original but tradition, much less to suspend
men her communion for not observing them."
On the contrary, the greatest latitude was allowed
in the Church of the first ages, and he appeals with
confidence to the well-known testimony of Sozo-
men,^ of Cyprian, Augustine, Jerome, and others.
" The first," he says, " who brake this order in the
Church were the Arians, Donatists, and Circumcel-
lians, while the true Church was still known by its
pristine moderation and sweetness of deportment
towards all its members." He expresses a hope
that the Church of England may evince its con
formity to the primitive Church, "not so much in
using the same rites that were in use then, as in
not imposing them, but leaving men to be won by
observing the true decency and order of Churches,
whereby those who act upon a true principle of
Christian ingenuity, may be sooner drawn to a com
pliance In all lawful things than by force and rigorous
imposition, which make men suspect the weight of
the thing itself when such force is used to make it
enter."
1 Hist. Eccles., I. vii. c. 19. The lingfleet translates: "They judged
passage from Sozomen to which it, and that very justly, a foolish
reference is made is often quoted, and frivolous thing for those that
It is as follows : " Evrj6es yhp koL agree in the weighty matters of
(loKa dtKaias vTreXa^ou Wav eveK(v religion to separate from one an-
aXX^Xmi' xo'P'ieo-^a'. "-ept to Kaipta other's communion for the sake of
TTJs Bprja-Keias iTvp.(pavovvTes. Oi yhp some petty customs and observa-
bri Tas aiirhs UapaSdads irepl irdv- tions. For Churches agreeing in
ra opolas, k&v o/io8o^ot elev, ep jrdo-ais the same faith often differ in their
raU eKKKrja-'iats fvpelv ityriv." Stil- rites and customs."— Preface.

422 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
Sentiments of such sound wisdom and sense,
uttered by a clever young ecclesiastic on the eve of
the Restoration, show how far a higher spirit pre
vailed In many minds at this time. A rational
theology had not been without its effect upon the
country. Amidst the strife of opposing factions Its
voice had been heard. For Stillingfleet is not to be
supposed a man standing very much above or apart
from his age, — of independent and exceptional
thoughtfulness. He was rather then, as he always
was, a man with his eyes open to the signs of his
time, and the influences moving men's minds. We
may fairly conclude, therefore, that there was not
merely in Cambridge, but amongst many of the
more generous and active-minded of the younger
clergy everywhere at this period, an earnest desire
for some compromise amongst religious parties,
whereby peace might be secured, and the Church
reconstructed upon a larger and a firmer basis than
ever. The government of the Church was, as it
had been since the Reformation, the special diffi
culty ; " an unhappy controversy to us in England,"
Stillingfleet says, " if ever there were any in the
world." " And this chiefly," he adds, because so
few really " understood the matter they so eagerly
contended about. For the state of the controversy
as it concerns us lies not here, as it Is generally
mistaken, what form of government comes the
nearest to apostolical practice, but whether any one
individual form be founded so upon divine right
that all ages and Churches are bound unalterably to
observe it ? " This is the important question. Let

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 423
It only appear that there is no form of Church
government unalterably binding, and the way is
cleared for a compromise on the basis of expediency.
" Certainly, they who have espoused the most the
interest of a jus divinum, cannot yet but say, that if
the opinion I maintain be true, it doth exceedingly
conduce to a present settlement of the differences
that are among us. For then all parties may retain
their different opinions concerning the primitive
form, and yet agree and pitch upon a form com
pounded of all together as most suitable to the state
and condition of the Church among us ; that so the
people's Interest be secured by consent and suffrage,
which is the pretence of the Congregational way ;
the due power of presbyteries, asserted by their
joint concurrence with the bishop, as it is laid down
in that excellent model of the late incomparable
Primate of Armagh ; and the just honour and
dignity of the bishop asserted as a very laudable and
ancient constitution for preserving the peace and
unity of the Church."
This was the ideal of a Church advocated by many,
and amongst others by the learned Casaubon In a
passage which he quotes.^
Such is the general design of the treatise — to show
that "there can be no argument drawn from any
pretence of a divine right that may hinder men
1 The passage is from the clesiis constituti cum suis Presby-
elder Casaubon, of course, and teriis et propriam sibi quisque
will be found in his ' Exercit. de peculiari cura, et universam
Rebus Sacris et Eccles.' (xv. s. omnes in commune curantes
xi.) p. 360, published at London, admirabilis cujusdam aristocratic
1614. " Episcopi in singulis Ec- speciem referebant."

424 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
from consenting and yielding to such a form of
government In the Church as may bear the great
est correspondency to the primitive Church," and
be most likely to heal the divisions of the Church
of England. Abuses must be removed, and he
" dare not harbour so low apprehensions of persons
enjoying so great dignity and honour In the Church,
that they will in any wise be unwilling of themselves
to reduce the form of Church government among us
to its primitive state and order, by retrenching all
exorbitances of power, and restoring those pres
byteries which 'no law hath forbidden, but only
through disuse have been laid aside." He Is san
guine enough not only to anticipate such " self-
denial" and " Christian prudence" on the part of the
bishops, but to believe that the dogmatic Presby
terians and Congregationalists will be thereby so
softened as to look with respect to an order which
they " have hitherto the most slighted." There is
something pathetic in this dream of the youthful
rector of Sutton in the light of the facts which so
soon followed. If anything could make us think
worse than we do of the Restoration bishops, and of
all the legislation of that unhappy time, it would be
the thought that there may have been many who
then shared Stillingfleet's sentiments, who honestly
desired to see the Church of England reconstructed,
not on a hierarchical, but on a practically efficient
basis. The presumption we fear must be that, after
all, the wise and moderate Churchmen were greatly
outnumbered by the violent, the arbitrary, and the
ignorant. So it has always hitherto been at every

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 425
great crisis ; and the dream of a truly catholic
Church, which should give play to every healthy
energy of government, as well as to every honest
instinct of faith, remains a dream. Stillingfleet was
haunted with tlie idea of failure even while he wrote :
" I make no other account but that it will fall out
with me as it doth commonly with him that offers
to part a fray ; both parties will perhaps drive at me
for wishing them no worse than peace. My ambi
tion," he adds, in a spirit of apostolic meekness,
" shall willingly carry me through this hazard. Let
them both beat me, so their quarrel may cease. I
shall rejoice in those blows and scars which I shall
take for the Church's safety."
I. Stillingfleet's argument is conducted in two
parts, the special purport of each of which will
appear in the sequel. In the first chapter, which is
properly an introduction to the whole argument, he
lays down his plan in a somewhat abstract manner,
raising the question of what constitutes the nature of
a divine right from the foundation, and following
out the general train of thought to its close with a
view to all his subsequent course of discussion. The
nature of a divine right, according to him, is two
fold. " Jus is first that which, is justum. Whatever
is just, men have a right to do it." In order to
make a thing lawful or a right to men, it is not
necessary that it be expressly commanded, but only
that it be not expressly prohibited. " According to
the sense of jus," to use his own language, "those
things may be said to be jure divino which are not

426 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
determined one way or other by any positive law of
God, but are left wholly as things la-wful to the pru
dence of men to determine them in a way agreeable
to natural light and the general rules of the Word
ofGod."! Having laid down this principle, he runs out into
special illustrations of it anticipatory of his argument
in a somewhat confused manner. His conclusion,
however, is pertinent and forcible — namely, that the
reason or ground of Church government, the ratio
regiminis ecclesiastici, Is of divine right, but that
the special mode or system of it Is left to human
discretion. In other words, it is a thing for ever and
immutably right that the Church should be under a
definite form of government. This is undoubtedly
justum,. In no other way can the peace and unity
of the Church be secured. But it is by no means
equally indubitable what this form of government
must be. The necessary end may be secured under
diverse forms, as in the case of civil government.
" Though the end of all be the same, yet mon
archy, aristocracy, and democracy are in themselves
lawful means for attaining the same common end.
. . . So the same reason of Church government
may call for an equality in the persons acting as
governors of the Church in one place, which may call
for superiority and subordination In another." ^
But jus is not only that which is justum — a thing
lawfully within man's power; but, moreover, that
1 Chap. i. p. 9. The edition St Paul's Churchyard, near the
quoted throughout is that of little northe door."
1662, "printed at the Phoenix, in ^ chap. i. p. 11.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 427
which Is jussum, a thing ordered to a man, and so
made a debitum, or constituted a duty by the force
and virtue of a divine command. And it is in
this sense of a jus divinum Stillingfleet admits
that the special controversy before him lies. He
proceeds, therefore, to expound the nature of a
divine right in this sense. Such a right presup
poses " both legislation and promulgation." There
must be an authority entitled to issue the law or
command, and the fact of its issue must be beyond
doubt. " Whatsoever binds Christians as a univer
sal standing law, must be clearly revealed as such.
. . . Nothing is founded upon a divine right,
nor can bind Christians directly or consequently as
a positive law, but what may be certainly known to
have come from God, with an intention to oblige
believers to the world's end." ^
There are only two ways in which a thing may
be thus clearly known to come from God with an
intention to bind all perpetually — viz., "either by
the law of nature, or by some positive law of God."
" The law of nature binds indispensably, as it
depends not upon any arbitrary constitutions, but is
founded on the intrinsical nature of good and evil in
things themselves." Reason is the chief instrument
of discovering the "necessary duties of human
nature," and hence Aristotle defines a natural law as
that which has everywhere the same force ; ^ yet It
is not " bare reason " which enforces such a law, for
every natural obligation is " expressive of an eternal
1 Chap. i. p. 14.
' "TraVTOxoC t^k alnrjo i'xei bvvapiv!' — Eth. L. v. c. IO.

428 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
law," and deduces its true force from thence. Such
a law, " If we respect the rise, extent, and immuta
bility of it, may be called deservedly the law of
nature ; but if we look at the emanation, efflux, and
original of it, it is a divine law. For the sanction of
this law, as well as others, depends upon the will of
God, and therefore an obligation must come from
him." Whatever, therefore, can be deduced "from
the perceptive law of nature is of divine right,"
because it is thereby clearly apparent, from the very
nature of the law, that it is the divine intention " to
oblige all persons in the world by it."
God's positive laws are to be traced to His re
vealed will in Scripture. But it does not follow that
all divine commands in Scripture are immutable ;
and hence of the nature of a divine right It must,
moreover, be clear that it is the divine will that they
should always continue. This is illustrated by the
case of the Jews and the ceremonial law. It is
necessary, therefore, to determine certain criteria or
" notes of difference whereby to learn when positive
laws bind immutably, when not." The following are
the criteria he enumerates, viz. : First, When the
original reason of the law continues to subsist, and
the Sabbath is given as a special illustration of this
case ; secondly, When God has expressly declared
any law to be binding immutably ; and, thirdly.
When the law or " thing commanded in particular "
is necessary to the existence of the Church, " the
being, succession, and continuance of such a society
of men professing the Gospel as is instituted and
appointed by Christ Himself" It will afterwards

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 429
appear, he says, " how much these things concern
the resolution ofthe question proposed."
Finally, he examines under this general prepara
tory head of discussion certain " pretences which are
brought for a divine right" — viz.. Scripture examples,
divine acts, or divine approbation. He shows con
clusively In the case of all of these that they have
not necessarily any binding force in themselves. In
so far as they are binding they involve either moral
considerations of universal force, or carry with them
an explicit sanction " binding us to follow." It is
unnecessary for us to enter into his illustrations of
these several " pretences." One must suffice of the
nature of a divine act " Supposing it be granted,"
he says, that " the apostles had superiority of order
and jurisdiction over the pastors of the Church by
an act of Christ," it by no means follows from this
" that it was Christ's Intention that superiority should
continue in their successors." This intention must
be specially proved before It can be allowed. Any
binding force, in short, that such a divine act has,
must be derived from a special declaration of the
divine will, and so any law or obligation there
may be in the act falls back under one of the
general criteria or tests of a divine right already
admitted. Such is the sum of Stillingfleet's discussion as to
the nature of a divine right It is a very good
specimen of the philosophical temper and skill which
he had acquired at Cambridge under the influence
of the new school of thought there. It is also for
the most part just and admirable in itself

430 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
In the opening of his second chapter he restates
his special inquiry — viz., How far Church govern
ment is founded upon divine right as thus explained
by him. But he is still detained from immediately
entering upon it by a further statement of principles
or hypotheses necessary to enable him to carry on
his argument. These principles are, some of them,
self-evident, and must be summarised in the briefest
form. They may be expressed as follows : —
I. That the law of nature, where It is clearly in
telligible, Is paramount, and cannot be superseded
by any positive human or divine enactments. It is
part of the law of nature, for example, that God be
worshipped. No human law can set this aside. If
the law of nature did not bind indispensably or ab
solutely, nothing could bind, for all human authority
comes primarily out of this law. Men yield obedi
ence to any law only in virtue of the law of nature
which binds them to stand to their compacts. Nor
Is it less true that the clear law of nature is irrevers
ible by divine enactment For, although God's
power Is infinite, He cannot change the nature of
moral obedience. He cannot make good evil, or
evil good. In confirmation of which statement he
quotes a succession of pregnant sentences from
Origen's Treatise against Celsus.-^
2. Things clearly deducible from the law of nature
or agreeable to it may be practised In the Church,
unless otherwise lawfully determined. In other
words, men are perfectly free to do what the law of
^ Lib. 3 ; do. 5, e Celsum.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 431
nature dictates, except in those cases where a law
ful authority has put restraints upon their natural
liberty. And the very existence of men in society
implies such restraints. Good and evil thereby
receive special meanings. Property is regulated
and civil order established, and the restrictions
which thus arise are lawful determinations of man's
natural Hberty. The Church is just a society under
such special conditions, and has Its own appropriate
restrictions binding all who enter Into it.
3. A principle of determination or of lawful autho
rity being recognised in the Church, the question
comes to be as to its character and extent. The
divine will, when clearly manifest, is an undoubted
example of such an authority. And the third hypo
thesis accordingly is, that " where the law of nature
determines a thing, and the divine law determines
the manner and the circumstances of the thing, we
are bound to obey the divine law In its particular
determinations, by virtue of the law of nature in its
general obligation."^ The law of nature, for ex
ample, binds us to worship God ; and " as we are
bound by nature to worship Him, so we are bound
by virtue of the same law to worship Him in the
manner best pleasing to Him, by sacrifice or other
wise." Sacrifice appears to our author unaccount
able except by some express divine command.
This principle or hypothesis is equally clear with
the two former, supposing only the will of God is
plainly made manifest In such a case there can be
no question of disobedience. All the difficulty con-
^ Chap. ii. p. 35.

432 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
sists In making it clear that the will of God has
really declared itself, and to what effect
4. Supposing that it has done so as to "the substance
and morality" of certain matters, the question arises
as to others left undetermined, or as to the special
circumstances of those so far determined. All the
practical difficulty as to Church government and
worship Stillingfleet sees very well lies here In this
indeterminate region — indeterminate at least In so
far as any clear revelation of the divine will is con
cerned. And hence his next hypothesis, which leads
him into a lengthened discussion. " In such a case,"
he says, " it is in the power of lawful authority in
the Church of God to determine " ^ circumstances
left undetermined either by natural law or divine
positive law. The lawful authority is the authority
of the magistrate. But this is a position he is well
aware much controverted, some denying the magis
trate any power at all in matters of religion, others
granting a defensive protective power of that religion
which is preferred according to the law of Christ,
but denying any determining power In the magistrate
concerning things left undetermined by the Scripture.
And so he feels himself " landed in a field of contro
versy." " It is strange," he adds, that " the things
men can least bear with one another in are matters
of liberty; and those things men have divided most
upon have been matters of uniformity; and wherein
they have differed most have been pretended things
of indifjerency." He would aim by his discussion to
" beget a right understanding between the adverse
'¦ Chap. ii. p. 38.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 433
parties," rather than to make his way " through any
opposite party." He then proceeds to define the
magistrate's power in religion, first in its character,
and secondly in its extent.
It is a power pertaining to religion as publicly
professed, and not to religion in itself, which is en
tirely an affair of the conscience. " Men may hold
what opinion they will in their minds," but the
magistrate must have the power of restraining the
utterance of opinions inimical to the national religion
or the public good, which are identified. " As a
liberty of all opinions tends successfully to the sub
verting of a nation's peace and to the embroiling
it in continual confusions, a magistrate cannot dis
charge his office unless he hath power to restrain
such a liberty." So far Stillingfleet does not contri
bute much to the settlement of a difficult point ; but
he was, at this time at least, fully on the level of
his age as to the principle of toleration.
The magistrate's power is, secondly, external and
objective about matters of religion, and not internal
or elicitive. " The internal elicitive power lies in the
authoritative exercise of the ministerial function in
preaching the Word and administering the sacra
ments ; the external objective power, in a due care
and provision for the defence, protection, and propa
gation of religion." ^
Thirdly, the power is not " nomothetical " but ad
ministrative. It does not consist In making or Im
posing upon the Church new laws, but in carrying
out recognised divine laws. The magistrate cannot
^ Chap. ii. p. 46.
VOL. I. 2 E

434 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
alter or repeal any positive divine enactments ; he
cannot add to these of his own accord ; but he may
incorporate them into the law of the land. Finally,
in things undetermined concerning the polity of the
Church, he has the power of determination agreeably
to the Word of God. It is the business and duty of
pastors and governors of the Church to consult with
and advise the magistrate ; but it is from the magis
trate alone that any power of coercion or legal obli
gation comes. " The great use of synods and assem
blies of pastors of churches is to be as the council of
the Church unto the king, in matters belonging to
the Church, as the Parliament is for matters of local
government" All power to oblige, all force of law,
is alone derived from the civil magistrate.
How far, then, does the power of the magistrate
extend ? What are the matters left undetermined
by the Word of God which he may determine in
order to the peace and government of the Church ?
Stillingfleet does not give any clear or complete an
swer to these questions. To have done so would
have been to anticipate many of his subsequent con
clusions. As it Is, there Is an anticipatory tendency
in much of this general discussion which is somewhat
confusing. He contents himself with maintaining
that there are things left undetermined, or matters of
indifferency, which may be lawfully subject to the
determination of the magistrate without any real
restraint being put upon religious liberty. A due
observance of prescribed rites, when the observance
is rationally understood as merely a deference to
constituted authority, which may vary in varying

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 435
places and circumstances, fetters no principle of free
dom. The very character of the restriction in such
a case implies the freedom which lies behind it.
The very diversity of the ritual indicates that it is
freely subject to regulation as may be most conve
nient. And hence the golden rule of Aiigustine,'^ in
reference to religious rites, that " every man should
observe those of the Church he was In." He knew
no better course for a prudent Christian, for " what
soever is observed neither against faith or manners
is a matter in itself indifferent, and to be observed
according to the custom of those he lives among."
This Christian rule he derived from Ambrose, who
pithily expressed it, " When at Rome I fast on the
Sabbath ; when at home (at Milan) I do not" ^
The liberal sentiments of these great fathers in
spires Stillingfleet to break forth suddenly with some
of his ideas of accommodation. How happy might
the nation be if the spirit of these blessed saints
only animated it ! How might a Church be built up,
imposing nothing but what Is clearly revealed in the
Word of God ; requiring nothing which, from its in
different nature, may not be rendered ; leaving the
service of God free even from particular require
ments that may seem agreeable to the divine Word,
when these requirements may give offence ; inflict
ing no mulcts or penalties on Dissenters till it be seen
whether It be wilful contempt and obstinacy of spirit,
or only weakness of conscience which influences
them ; and, lastly, divesting religion of a multitude
^ Ep. i. 18 ad Januar. Ir. p. 60. Sabbato : cum hic sum, non je-
^ " Cum Romam venio, jejuno juno." — Ibid., p. 61.

436 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
of ceremonies ! The ideal is fine ; but, after all, he
does not help us much to see how it can be worked.
One interesting piece of antiquarianism he uses as an
illustration. He is sure that it is contrary to the
primitive practice to impose penalties for noncon
formity in habits, gestures, and the like. According
to Walafrldus Strabo,^ there was no distinction of
habits used in the primitive Church. The presby
ters did not at first wear any distinct habits from the
people. It was only gradually that the pallium
philosophicum became a distinctive clerical vestment.
Even so late as the time of Origen It had not done so
universally. Only when " Christianity began to lose
in height what it got in breadth," did " the former sim
plicity of their garments, as well as manners," change
amongst Christians. Not that he would thereby con
demn " any distinction of habit for mere decency and
order," but only show that it was contrary to the pri
mitive times " to impose any necessity of these things
upon men, or to censure them for the disuse of them."
After his lengthened discussion about the magis
trate's power, Stillingfleet reverts to the principles or
hypotheses which he was unfolding ; and, in a few
sentences, adds two others to the series — viz., that
" whatever is determined by lawful authority on the
Church binds the conscience of all within the Church ;
in other words, subject to Its authority." And, lastly,
that the " determinations of this lawful authority are
not unalterable, but may be revoked, limited, and
changed, according to circumstances."
This finishes his elaborate preliminary matter — his
' De Rebus Eccles., cap. 24.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 437
" foundation," as he calls it — and he is at length at
liberty to proceed with his inquiry, " How far gov
ernment in the Church is founded upon an unalter
able divine right ? " First, in respect of the law of
nature ; and, secondly, in respect of Scripture, or
positive divine law. No fewer than six chapters are
devoted to the examination of the subject in the first
of these points of view. We can only indicate in the
briefest manner his course of argument All real
interest is concentrated in his final treatment of the
question, " How far any definite polity of Church
government is laid down in the New Testament, or
in the practice of the primitive Church ? "
In the six chapters In which he views the matter
on the basis of natural law, he settles such questions
as that there must be a Church — a " society of men
joining together for the worship of God,"^ and " that
this society must be governed in the most convenient
manner. "2 Both these propositions are dictates of
nature, and hence, undoubtedly, of divine right The
next thing which nature dictates is, that all things
pertaining to divine worship or the government of
the Church be performed "with the greatest solemnity
and decency that may be."^ It is quite unnecessary
to enter into particular proof of such propositions.
All who recognise a spiritual power at all will ac
knowledge these conditions of its recognition. The
remaining three dictates of the law of nature in re
ference to the subject are not less unchallengeable ;
but one of them at least raises a more curious and
difficult subject of inquiry. They are as follows : —
^ Chap. iii. p. 72. =" Chap. iv. p. 85. =* Chap. v. p. 93.

438 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
That there must be some arbiter of controversy in
the religious society, or Church ;^
That all admitted into the society must consent
to be governed by its rules ;^ and, finally, —
That it must possess a power of censuring all
wilful offenders against these rules, and of expelling
them if necessary.^
These are all equally conclusions of the natural
reason regarding the government of the Church.
As the former conclusions were necessary to its
constitution, these are necessary to its preservation.
Nature dictates the existence of such a society ; the
general order of the government, implying authority
in some, and subjection in others ; but nature would
be defective If it did not also imply a sufficient pro
vision for the maintenance and preservation of the
society thus formed. A , power, therefore, to prevent
mischief, is as necessary in the Church as a " power
to settle things." There must be some way of
deciding controversies which will arise to disturb the
peace of It.
The necessity for some arbiter of religious contro
versy raises the usual question as to the limits of
Church communion and toleration, so admirably dis
cussed by Hales and Chillingworth and Taylor.
The views of Stillingfleet are identical with the views,
already examined, of these writers, and are, in fact,
directly borrowed from Hales, whose tract ' On
Schism' is largely quoted. The matters which tend
to break the peace of the Church are of the nature
either of heresy or schism — matters of opinion or
^ Chap. vi. p. 104. 2 Chap. vii. p. 132. = Chap. viii. p. 141.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 439
practice. In reference to the former, Stillingfleet
repeats strongly the opinion, that mere diversity of
opinion is no ground of heresy, laying men open to
the censure of the Church. It is only the " endeav
our, by difference of opinion, to alienate men's spirit
one from another, and thereby to break the society
into fractions and divisions, which makes men liable
to restraint and punishment " ^ " Opinionum diversltas
et opinantium unitas non sunt do-ucrTaTa." " The
unity of the Church is that of communion, and not
that of apprehension ; and different opinions are no
further liable to censure than as men by the broach
ing of these do endeavour to disturb the peace of
the Church." Schism is a more deadly evil than
so-called heresy, because more immediately destruc
tive of Church communion. And yet here, he says,
quoting Hales, it Is also necessary to discriminate.
Schism must be judged according to its grounds and
reasons. For as it is a sin, on the one hand, to
divide the Church, so also it is an offence to continue
communion when it Is a duty to withdraw. The
Separatist is not necessarily the schismatic. He
lays down the following conditions as to Church
membership : i. Every Christian is bound to join
in Christian society with others. 2. He is bound to
maintain his Church communion so long as he can do
so without sin. And the causes of legitimate offence
in a Church warranting separation from it are con
strued very broadly. The Churches of Galatia and
Corinth are examples that even the rejection of an
article of faith may not demand separation. It is
1 Chap. ii. p. 107, 108.

440 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
not enough that the Church be corrupt even in
definite points of doctrine or practice. She must,
moreover, require her members to own expressly
these corruptions before a total and positive separa
tion is lawful. This is the justification of separation
from the Church of Rome, as explained in Chilling
worth's preface, to which our author refers. In order
to be a member of this Church, it Is necessary to
believe that all its doctrines are not only not errors,
but certain and necessary truths ; so that, in fact, to
hold that there are errors in the Church of Rome is
" actually and ipso facto to forsake the communion of
that Church." He quotes with approval a lengthened
passage from Hales, that the best way to avoid
schism is to avoid " charging Churches and liturgies
with things unnecessary." "To load our public forms
with the private fancies upon which we differ, is the
sovereign way to perpetuate _schism unto the world's
end. Prayer, confession, thanksgiving, reading of
Scriptures in the plainest and simplest manner, were
matters enough to furnish out a sufficient Liturgy."^
In this point of view Stillingfleet strongly approves
of the revisal of the Liturgy to meet the scruples of
the Presbyterians, The Reformers, he argues, did
not hesitate, in " composing the Liturgy," to have an
eye to the Papists as the only party at that time
whom they desired to draw into their communion.
And the same reason should surely induce the
authorities of the Church to alter or lay aside the
things which gave offence to the Presbyterians at
the Restoration. ^ Hales on Schism.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 441
Having thus dwelt on the matters which lead to
controversy within the Church, he dismisses, after
a comparatively brief treatment, the ways prescribed
by the light of nature for ending such controversy.
The minority must yield to the majority, and a right
of appeal must subsist to every accused or injured
person, from the lower and subordinate powers to
the higher and superior. This is all. And not
much more remains to be said by any one. He
urges strongly the necessity of appeal and a gradua
tion of authority In the Church against the Congrega
tionalists, who would leave every particular society of
Christians to order their affairs according to their
pleasure. According to the " light and law of na
ture," it appears to him " that no individual company
or congregation hath an absolute independent power
within itself; but that for the redressing grievances
happening in them, appeals are necessary to the par
ties aggrieved, and a subordination of that particular
congregation to the government of the society in
common."! He is equally strong that, in a State
Church, " when the Church is incorporated into the
commonwealth, the chief authority in a common
wealth as Christian, belongs to the same to which it
doth as a commonwealth." ^ In other words, as he has
already asserted in treating of the power of the magis
trate, the ultimate authority, ecclesiastical as well as
civil, is in the State.
II. We pass on to the second part of Stillingfleet's
argument, which discusses the Scriptural evidence of
1 Chap. vi. p. 131. ^ Ibid., p. 127.

442 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
a divinely fixed form of Church government. So far
as positive divine law is concerned, there can be no
other evidence for it, he maintains, but that of Scrip
ture. " The Word of God being the only code and
digest of divine laws, whatever law we look for
must either be found there in express terms, or at
least so couched therein, that every one, by the ex
ercise of his understanding, may, by a certain and
easy collection, gather the universal obligation of the
thing inquired after." ^ When the question is as to
binding men's consciences, and not merely satisfying
our historical curiosity, the appeal must be to Scrip
ture — to the authoritative words or actions of Christ
or of the apostles. Traditions of apostolical practice
gathered from succeeding ages may be very interest
ing, and may even throw real light upon the original
constitution of the Church, but they can never fur
nish sufficient ground to " infer any divine law." It
is not enough that the practice be authentic, but it
must be further clear that it was the divine intention
that it should continually bind the Church. " Though
the matter of fact be evidenced by posterity, yet the
obligatory nature of the fact must depend upon Scrip
ture." Nor is it enough that " the apostles' intentions
be built upon men's bare surmises, nor upon after
practices ;" but that it be clearly shown that what
they did proceeded from a divine command, obliga
tory upon them as the Church in all future tlme.^
He ridicules the reasoning of those who would infer
the necessity of any form of Church government be
cause practised by the apostles, and then prove the
^ Part ii. chap. i. p. 151. ^ Ibid., p. 152.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 443
apostolical practice from that of succeeding ages.
This, he says, is to "prove the same thing by Itself"
— to call a practice apostolical, and then pronounce
it of divine authority because apostolical ; whereas
in any valid argument for a divinely fixed form of
Church government there are two distinct things to
be proved^ — viz., first, what the apostolic practice
was ; and, secondly, what was Its character. Was it
designed to be universally binding or not ? This
last point he declares, over and over again, is the
really important point which it is the special object
of his treatise to settle. The controversy had been
hitherto on a wrong tack In trying to settle whether
Independency, or ^ Presbytery, or Episcopacy, came
the nearest to apostolical practice. The really urgent
question is not this ; but whether any of these forms
"be so settled by a jus divinum — that is, be so
determined by a positive law of God, that all the
Churches of Christ are bound to observe that one
form so determined without variation from it"
We have put the question as between the three
main forms of Church government which contended
for the mastery in England in Stillingfleet's youth.
But, in point of fact, he has already, by the course
of his reasoning, reduced the question to one between
Presbytery and Episcopacy ; for he has already set
tled, and he recurs to the question specially In the
first chapter of the second part of his treatise, that
neither the name nor the order of a Church can be
confined to " particular congregations;" but that, on
the contrary, they apply with special propriety to a
national society, comprehending in it many of such

444 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
lesser congregations united together in one body
under a form of government Even if the primary
political form of the Church were acknowledged to
have been that of a " particular congregation," it is
enough, he says, "that there are other Churches
besides particular congregations." ^ It is enough that
whole nations professing Christianity have united
themselves in the participation of religious ordin
ances. Such a nation is undoubtedly a true Church
of God ; and hence it follows " that there must be a
form of ecclesiastical government over a nation as a
Church, as well as of civil government over it as a
society governed by the same laws." ^
Having thus disposed of Congregationalism or
Independency, he disposes, in a second chapter, of
Quakerism, or the dream of a seculum spiritus sancti
— first broached, he says, by the mendicant friars.
He makes no dispute that the government of the
Church must " be administered by officers of divine
appointment" This " is another thing I will yield
to be of divine right . . . My meaning is, that there
must be a standing perpetual ministry in the Church
of God, whose care and employment must be tb
oversee and govern the people of God, and to ad
minister Gospel ordinances among them, and this is
of divine and perpetual right " ^ It admits of no
question that special officers were appointed In the
primitive Church ; and the original grounds for their
appointment, as enumerated in many texts of the
New Testament, continue in equal force. The ob
jects of the ministerial office remaining of necessary
1 Ibid., p. 154. 2 Ibid., p. 157. s jbid., p. i^g.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 445
and perpetual use, the office itself must be held of
divine perpetuity in the Church.
The way being thus cleared, he comes to " the
main subject of the present controversy." Can
either Presbytery or Episcopacy make out for itself
a jus divinum ? Is either form of Church govern
ment so determined by any positive law of God as
to bind unalterably all Christians to its observance ?
The only valid plea for such a divine right is some
plain institution by Christ Himself, or the obligatory
nature of apostolical practice. All the pith of the
argument lies within these two points, and, indeed,
within the latter. He prefixes a brief discussion
as to whether any of the institutions of the law
have binding force under the Gospel ; and he ap
pends an interesting chapter on the opinions of
the Church divines since the Reformation on the
subject of Church government. But the force of
his argument is quite independent of these consi
derations. I. So far as any express command of Christ Him
self is concerned, there is nothing can be quoted bear
ing on the subject. It is of no avail to argue, as
many had done, from the analogy of Moses, that Christ
must have instituted a special form of government
for the Church.! ]\Jq|- ^q insist on the difference be-
^ The absurd presumption of established, is well ridiculed by
arguing in favour of a divinely Stillingfleet as by Hooker, from
constituted form of Church gov- whom he quotes an admirable
ernment, that it was necessary passage on this point (Eccles.
for Christ, like any other legis- Polity, lib. iii. sect. 2) : " In mat-
lator, to appoint a definite consti- ters which concern the action of
tution for the society which He God, the most dutiful way on our

446 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
twixt the law and the Gospel, it is enough to say
that not only has Christ not laid down any special
rules for the constitution of the New Testament
Church, but that there are no such rules found in
any part of the New Testament There are, indeed,
" general rules of direction " given in the apostolical
writings, of which the following four are enumerated
by Stillingfleet : " All things to be done decently
and in order. All to be done for edification. Give
no offence. Do all to the glory of God." ^ But the
very statement of these principles in their extreme
generality brings out in the clearest manner the scan
tiness of the New Testament information regarding
the constitution of the Church. All the laws occur
ring In Scripture respecting Church government may
be applied with equal force to several forms of
government It is not designed to characterise or
define the form, but only the spirit or principles
which should animate the various officers In the dis
charge of their duties. Such rules, for example, as
are contained in the Epistles to Timothy and Titus
are moral, and not institutional or ritual. They tell
us what bishops and deacons ought to be in charac
ter, but they do not tell us the relation which these
two classes of officers were to bear to one another,
and still less do they tell us as to the relations of
bishops and presbyters. It is plain. In fact, to every
unprejudiced reader, that the distinction of bishop and
presbyter, as afterwards recognised by the Church,
part is to search what God hath what He, in congruity of reason,
done, and with meekness to ad- ought to do."
mire that rather than to dispute ^ Part ii. chap. iv. p. 178.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 447
had not then emerged. The author of these epistles
would not have understood the question which agi
tated the seventeenth century, and has not ceased
to agitate the nineteenth.
It is not to be denied that Timothy and Titus
occupied special positions of superiority In the primi
tive Church ; and two indisputable inferences may
be drawn from this which may be turned in favour
of Episcopacy — ^viz., that the superiority of some
Church officers over others is not inconsistent with
the New Testament ; and, secondly, that it Is not
repugnant to the primitive Church for certain
officers to have power over more than one congre
gation. But, upon the whole, the examples of
Timothy and Titus decide nothing definitely in
favour of either of the disputed forms of Church
government. The mere fact that it is fairly ques
tioned whether their office was that of temporary
evangelists or of fixed bishops Is enough to Invalidate
the authoritative character of their examples. "If
they acted not as bishops, nothing can be drawn
from their example necessarily enforcing the con
tinuance of the superiority which they enjoyed."!
To those who argue " that Timothy and Titus might
ordain and appoint others to succeed them in their
places," he replies that the question is not, "what
they might do, but what they did." " Neither," he
adds, " is what they did the whole question, but
what they did with an opinion of the necessity of
doing it." Whether they were bound to do it or
not ? If the former view be taken, the binding law
1 Ibid., p. 186.

448 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
or command must be produced, " which will hardly
be If we embrace only the received canon of Scrip
ture." " Thus we see, then," Stillingfleet concludes,
in very emphatic terms, this part of his argument,
" that neither the qualifications of the persons nor
the commands for a right exercise of the office com
mitted to them, nor the whole Epistles to Timothy
and Titus, do determine any one form of govern
ment to be necessary in the Church of God." !
The special actions of our Lord which may be
supposed to have any bearing on the subject are
examined.^ The mission of the apostles, as de
scribed in the Gospels (Matt x. ; Luke, vi.), the
alleged primacy of St Peter, and the relation between
the twelve and the seventy disciples, along with
some other details, — all are discussed with a similar
conclusion. Nowhere is there any evidence of any
intention on the part of Christ to fix the special form
of government for the Church. Nothing Is said or
appointed by Him which is not equally applicable to
a "diversity of particular forms." There is, there
fore, nothing In any of our Lord's actions, or in any
special rules laid down in Scripture, which deter
mines the necessity of a particular form of Church
government. 2. The only remaining argument to be considered
is that which arises out of the practice of the apostles.
Stillingfleet has bestowed great pains upon this part
of his argument ; and, notwithstanding certain irrel-
evancies which mark more or less the whole pro
gress of his reasoning, we do not know that there Is
1 Ibid., p. i88. • « Ibid., chap. v.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 449
anything in English theological literature at once
more compact and exhaustive on the subject. It
divides itself into two inquiries' — What the apostolic
practice really was ? and, secondly. How far it Is
binding upon us ; or, in his own words, " how far
they acted for the determining any one form of
government as necessary for the Church ? " !
In carrying out the first of these inquiries it is
especially necessary to free ourselves from prepos
sessions. " Nothing has been a more fruitful mother
of mistakes and errors than the looking upon the
practice of the Primitive Church through the glass
of our own customs." In illustration of this, he
quotes the Roman Catholic use of the word missa,
whenever they meet with it, as applying to the sacri
fice of the altar ; whereas It originally meant only
the public service of the Church, so called from the
dismission of the people after it with an ite, missa est,
and was equally applied to the service of the cate
chumens (m,issa catechumenorum) and the service of
the communicants {missa fidelium), " which after
wards (the former discipline of the Church decaying)
engrossed the name missa to itself, and when the
sacrifice of the altar came up among the Papists it
was appropriated to that"^ In the same way the
Romanists pervert the meaning of the word Xeiroup-
yeti', translating the phrase XetTovpyovvToiv avTa)v,sacri-
ficantibus illis, " although it be not only contrary to
the sense of the word in the New Testament, but
to the exposition of Chrysostom" and others. But
it is unnecessary, he says, " to search curiously for
' Ibid., vi. 232. ' Ibid., p. 238.
VOL. I. 2 F

450 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
examples of this abusive mode of argument." The
subject itself Is full of them — " as the argument for
the popular election of pastors from the grammatical
sense of the word -^eLpoTovla, for lay-elders from the
name irpecr^vTepoi, and modern Episcopacy from the
use of the word eTrtcrKOTros in Scripture." ! It is im
portant, therefore, to discriminate accurately the use
of names, and to draw conclusions only " from the
undoubted practice of the apostolic times, If that can
be made appear what it was."
The only real guide to us in such an inquiry Is
the customs of the Jewish synagogue, to which the
apostles, beyond question, conformed in planting
Christian Churches. This is argued at great length,
and the various points of analogy betwixt the Jewish
synagogue and the Primitive Church brought out in
detail. These are found to consist in the general
character of the public service, the ordination of
Church officers, the formation of presbyteries in the
several Churches, and the mode of government of
those presbyteries. The primitive order of public
worship corresponded to that of the synagogue in
the following essential particulars : — (i.) Public fel
lowship (KoivcDvia) ; (2.) Solemn prayers ; and, (3.)
Reading and exposition of Scripture. The well-
known passage from the 'Second Apology of Justin
Martyr,' respecting the primitive worship, is quoted
with the remark, " What could have been spoken
with greater congruity and correspondency to the
synagogue, abating the necessary observation of the
Eucharist as proper to Christianity ? " ^ The prac-
1 Ibid., p. 239. 2 iijjj^ p_ 262, 263.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 451
tice of ordination was plainly derived from the
synagogue. " The priests under the law were never
ordained by imposition of hands, as the elders and
rulers of the synagogue were ; and if any of them
came to that office, they, as well as others, had pecu
liar designation and appointment to it. It is, then,
a common mistake to think that the ministers of the
Gospel succeed by vows of correspondence and
analogy to the priest under the law — which mistake
hath been the original of many errors." !
The application of the name of priests to Chris
tian ministers, naturally following the usage of the
term among both Jews and Gentiles, has led in
process of time to all the sacrificial Ideas connected
with it, and, finally, to the mass itself So he
argues. As the fact of ordination was derived
from the synagogue, so the special mode of it,
by the laying on of hands, the number of persons
authorised to confer it, and its supposed effect,
were all drawn from the same source. These
features of the Christian Church were originally
nothing more than copies from the Jewish Church.
The one grew out of the other in a natural manner
— the younger Institution out of the old, taking some
of its most characteristic peculiarities and stamping
them with a new life and meaning. The very same
process of development was repeated in both cases.
The right of ordination, for example, was at first
common to any presbyter among the Jews. Every
one, himself regularly ordained, had the power of
ordaining disciples, as Maimonides expressly affirms,
1 Ibid., p. 265.

452 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
and also the Gemara Babylonia, as quoted by
Selden.! g^t j^ course of time this liberty was
restrained, and it was agreed that none should ordain
others without the presence, or at least the sanc
tion, of the Prince of the Sanhedrim — the apxto'v-
vdyoijo'i. The same change gradually sprang up in
the Christian Church. At first, as Jerome tells us,^
" the presbyters did rule the Church in common —
communi presbyterorum concilio Ecclesiae guber-
nantur." They enjoyed alike the power of ordain
ing other presbyters. Stillingfleet gives abundant
evidence of this from patristic and even Papal autho
rity, and especially enters into a long discussion as
to the consistency of Jerome and the true opinions
of Aerius, both of whom appear so prominent in the
controversy respecting Presbytery and Episcopacy.
There can be no fair question, he thinks, that Jerome
consistently maintains the original identity of pres
byters and bishops, while asserting at the same time
that the superiority of the bishop was an " apostolical
tradition," or a custom which might be traced to the
apostolic age. The truth was, that the exercise of
the right of ordination by all presbyters alike had a
tendency to create division, and so the right became
restricted as previously among the Jews.
" The main controversy is where this restraint
began, and by whose act ; whether by any act of the
apostles, or only by the prudence of the Church
itself, as it was with the Sanhedrim. But in order
to our peace," he adds,^ " I see no such necessity of
^ Ibid., p. 272. ^ Hieronym. in. i Tit, quoted ibid., p. 273.
' Chap. vi. p. 276.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 453
deciding it both parties granting that in the Church
such a restraint was laid upon the liberty of ordain
ing presbyters ; and the exercise of that power may
be restrained still, granting it to be radically and
intrinsically in them."
To hold it expedient notwithstanding this radical
power of ordination In presbyters, that the right
should only be exercised by a superior order in the
Church, and to hold that Presbyterian ordination is
in itself essentially unlawful, are two entirely distinct
propositions; and the latter opinion he " dares with
some confidence assert to be a stranger to our
Church of England," as he promises to show more
fully afterwards. Concerning Aerius, he maintains
that his special heresy was not at all the assertion of
the Identity in order of presbyters and bishops, in
which respect he only agreed with Jerome, Augus
tine, Ambrose, Chrysostom, Theodoret, Theophylact;
but his having carried out this opinion to the extent
of " separating from bishops and their churches
because they were bishops : " — " Whereas had his
mere opinion about bishops been the ground of his
being condemned, there can be no reason assigned
why this heresy, if it were then thought so, was not
mentioned either by Socrates, Theodoret, Sozomen,
or Evagrius, before whose time he lived. But for
Epiphanius and Augustine, who have listed him in
the roll of heretics, it either was for other heretical
opinions maintained by him — or they took the name
heretic (and It is evident they often did) for one
who upon a matter of different opinion from the
present sense of the Church did proceed to make

454 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
separations from the unity of the Catholic Church,
which I take to be the truest account of the reputed
heresy of Aerius." ^
After dwelling briefly upon the number of persons
required to perform the ceremony of ordination
among the Jews and equally In the Primitive Church
— three In each case — and also of the supposed
effect of the reception of the divine presence or the
Holy Spirit, Stillingfleet proceeds to draw his argu
ment to a close in three propositions, which embrace
at the same time, he says, " the full resolution " of
all the points corresponding betwixt the Sanhedrim
and the Primitive Church. He Introduces his pro
positions by a statement as to the original meaning
of 'Ettio-kottos, the Intention of which, he says, was
" to qualify the importance of the word, presbyter to a
sense proper to the Gospel state." Primarily the
word imported " duty more than honour," and was
" not a title above presbyter, but rather used by way
of diminution and qualification of the power implied
in the name of presbyter." Having cleared this
point, all that he has to say concerning the settle
ment of the Primitive Church by the apostles may
be summed up as follows : — First, that we have no
such certainty of apostolical practices as can con
stitute a divine right ; secondly, that there is no
evidence that the apostles bound themselves to any
one fixed course in modelling Churches ; and, thirdly,
that even if it could be proved that they did this,
their example would not necessarily bind us.^
He argues the first of these points at considerable
1 Ibid., p. 277. " Ibid., p. 287.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 455
length, from the equivalency of the names of bishop
and presbyter in the New Testament (Acts, xi. 30,
xiv. 23, xxviii. 17; i Tim. iii. i ; Titus, i. 5); from
the "defectiveness, ambiguity, partiality, and repug
nancy" of the records of the ages immediately suc
ceeding that of the apostles.-' The clear impossi
bility of making out any jus divinum for Church
government from Scripture has driven controver
sialists, he says, " to follow the scent of the game
into this wood of antiquity, where it is easier to lose
ourselves than to find that which we are upon the
pursuit of" He has, perhaps, coloured strongly
his picture of the uncertainty of ecclesiastical tradi
tion ; but those who have most critically examined
the subject will be the most likely to agree with
him. He speaks with peculiar force of the sub-
apostolic age, from the close of the Acts of the
apostles to "the middle of Trajan," as a tempus
dBrjXov, In the words of Scaliger.^ Christian anti
quity is then most defective, unhappily, when its
light would have been most useful. The lists or
catalogues of bishops set down by many ecclesias
tical annalists are treated very slightly. Eusebius ^
found it no easy matter " to find out who succeeded
the apostles in the churches planted by them."
What becomes then of the " unquestionable line of
succession and the large diagrams made of the
apostolical churches, with every one's name set
down In his order ?"* Irenaeus is found attributing
the tradition of apostolical doctrine "to the suc-
1 Ibid., p. 294. ^ Lib. iii. c. iv.
2 Ibid., p. 298. * Ibid., p. 297.

456 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
cession of presbyters which before he had done to
bishops."^ He asserts not only "the succession
of presbyters to the apostles, but likewise attributes
the successio Episcopatus to these very presbyters.
What strange confusion must this raise in any one's
mind that seeks for a succession of episcopal power
above presbyters from the apostles by the testimony
of Irenaeus, when he so plainly attributes both the
succession to presbyters and the episcopacy too
which he speaks of ? . . . But it is not Irenaeus alone
who tells us that presbyters succeed the apostles.
Even Cyprian, who pleads so much for obedience
to the bishops, as they were then constituted in
the Church, yet speaks often of his Compresbyteri ;
and In his Epistle to Florentius Papianus he attri
butes apostolic succession to all that were Praepositi,
which name implies not the relation (of bishops)
to presbyters as over them, but to the people, and
is therefore common both to bishops and presbyters.
Jerome saith that presbyters are loco Apostolorum,,
and that they do Apostolico gradui succedere ; and
the so much magnified Ignatius trp^a-^rnepoi ets
TOTiov crvveSpLov Ta)v dirocrroXwi', that the presbyters
succeeded in the place of the bench of apostles.'"^
The sum of his argument is, that no clear line of
Episcopal succession can be traced in many cases.
The claim of a jus divinum, for Episcopacy implies
1 Lib. iv. cap. iii. The passage Episcopatus successione, charisma
of Irenasus is as follows : — " Qua- veritatis certum secundum placi-
propter iis qui in Ecclesia sunt tum Patris acceperunt." — Iren., p.
Presbyteris obaudire oportet, his 307.
qui successionem habent ab Apos- ^ Ibid., p. 308.
tolls, sicut, ostendimus, qui cum

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 457
that In all cases the apostles in " withdrawing from
the government of churches did substitute single
persons to succeed them." But the evidence for
this egregiously fails even in the most conspicuous
churches. In Rome, for example, " the succession
is as muddy as the Tiber itself, for here TertuUian,
Rufinus, and several others, place Clement next to
Peter; Irenaeus and Eusebius set Anacletus before
him ; Epiphanius and Optatus, both Anacletus and
Cletus; Augustinus and Damasus, with others, make
Anacletus, Cletus, and Linus all to precede him.
What way shall we find to extricate ourselves out of
this labyrinth, so as to reconcile it with the certainty
of the form of government in the apostles' times ?" !
Having shown how little certainty there is of any
divinely-fixed form of Church government In the
apostolic age, he proceeds to show how the apostles
probably acted " according to the several circum
stances of places and persons which they had to deal
with." He sketches, in other words, the formation
of the Christian Church according to the natural law
of development which it appears to him to have fol
lowed. His idea is the genuinely historic one, that
the government of the Church adapted itself to cir
cumstances, and the varying increase of the com
munity of believers In different districts. A small
number of believers did not require the same num
ber of teachers and governors as " a great Church
did." In some cases a single pastor, with deacons
under him, was all that was needed ; and " every
such single pastor was a bishop, in the sense that he
1 Ibid., p. 322.

458 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
had none above to command him," but not, of course,
in the special sense of having presbyters under him.
In larger churches, consisting of a multitude of dea
cons, he supposes that the government was settled
in " a college of presbyters." This is his interpreta
tion of the apostles' " ordaining elders in every city,
and Paul's calling for the elders from Ephesus, and
his writing to the bishops (presbyters) and deacons
of Philippi."! "We have many remaining foot
steps," he says, " of such a college of presbyters
established In the most populous churches In the
apostolical times." Among these presbyters some
attended most to ruling, others laboured most in
preaching, but none of them were lay elders in the
dogmatic Presbyterian sense. For any presbyter in
the New Testament sense is also a bishop, and Is
described as having pastoral charge over a flock,
which is inconsistent with the notion of a lay elder. ^
Thus far he supposes the Church to have developed
in the apostolic age ; and in a subsequent chapter ^
he traces its further development in the institution
of a president, or bishop in the special sense, over
each college of presbyters. In the second century
this manner of government in the Church appears
clearly : " the bishop sitting as the K^tJ*: (' prince '
or ' chief) in the Sanhedrim, and the presbyters,
as Ignatius expresseth it, acting as the common
council of the Church to the bishop* — the bishop
being as the dp')(oiv rrj^i eKKkrjcria<s, answering to the
a/3X&)v T1JS TToXecos, and the presbyters as the /SovXyj
T'jjs €KKXyjcria<;, answering to the fiovX-r) Koff iKaaryju
' Ibid., p. 335. 2 Ibid., p. 337. MI. c. vii. ^ as iTvve8pevTo\ t<Sv im(rK67rwv.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 4S9
voXlv, as Origen compares them (c. Celsum, 1. Hi.),
whereby he fully describes the form of government
in his time In the Church, which was by an eccle
siastical senate, and a president in it, ruling the
society of Christians in every city." ! We need not
trace further his historical picture, according to which
churches gradually extended from cities to the sur
rounding villages, and thence enlarged into dioceses,
and subsequently into provinces. The result of the
whole is to bring out the varying human element
which entered Into the growth of the Church. The
government was the result, not of any special divine
law, but of a succession of laws, springing up " ac
cording to the several states and conditions wherein
the Church was." And " as it gradually grew up,
so was the power of the Church by mutual consent
fitted to its state in Its several ages.^ In further evi
dence of which, it is found, as a matter of fact that
there were several Churches, such as the ancient
Scottish Church, without any bishops for a long time;
and other Churches, he alleges, " which discontinued
bishops for a great while where they had been."
The final strength of his argument yet remains.
Even if a stronger case could be made out for a uni
form apostolical practice as to Church government, It
does not follow that such a practice would be neces
sarily binding upon us. Many things were done by the
apostles which were suitable merely to the exigen
cies of the Primitive Church, and carried with them
no binding force after the occasion for them had
passed away. " Let any one consider but these
1 Ibid., p. 356. = Ibid., p. 374-

460 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
few particulars," he says, "and judge how far the
pleaders for a divine right of apostolical practice do
look upon themselves as bound now to observe
them ; as dipping in baptism, the use of love-feasts,
community of goods, the holy kiss, by TertuUian
called signaculum orationis (de Orat.) ; yet none look
upon themselves as bound to observe them now, and
yet all acknowledge them to have been the practice
of the apostles." !
His concluding review ofthe opinions of Reformed
divines is extremely interesting. But we cannot do
more than indicate its general purport He shows,
beyond all dispute, that the most distinguished
divines of the English Reformation — -Cranmer,
Whitgift, Parker, Hooker, and, later, Coslns, Low,
Bridges, Sutcliffe, and King James himself — were
all of opinion that no definite form of Church govern
ment was laid down in Scripture, or commanded to the
Church of God (very nearly Whitgift's words in his
reply to Cartwrlght). He quotes the detailed opin
ions of Hales and Chillingworth to the same effect.
He then adds the testimony of foreign divines In
abundance, and of learned men, particularly Bacon
and Grotius. All these " assert in terms that the
form of Church government does not depend upon
any unalterable law, but is left to the prudence and
discretion of every particular Church to determine it
according to its suitableness to the state, condition,
and temper of the people whereof it consists, and
conduceableness to the ends for which it Is Instituted."^
Others, such as Calvin, Beza, Melancthon, while
Chap. vi. p. 345. 2 Chap. vii. p. 404.

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 461
holding Presbyterian parity to be the primitive form,
yet approve of Episcopacy in special circumstances
as lawful and expedient Others still, while judging
Episcopacy to be the primitive form, do not hold it
to be " unalterably binding, but that those churches
which are without it are truly constituted churches,
and their ministers lawfully ordained by mere pres
byters. This is given as the opinion, not only of
Jewel, but of Field, Downam, Saravia, Andrews, and
others. " The stoutest champions for Episcopacy
before their late unhappy divisions," he says, " ac
knowledged that ordination, performed by presbyters
in cases of necessity. Is valid, which I have already
shown doth evidently prove that Episcopal govern
ment is not founded upon any unalterable divine
right" !
This closes his lengthened argument, in which he
believes that he has laid down " a sure foundation
for peace and union." The result of the whole has
been " to prove that the form of Church government
is a mere matter of prudence, regulated by the word
of God." Prudence, therefore, is the first principle
which must be used in the resettlement of the
Church. The second principle is, that that form of
government is the best which, according to princi
ples of Christian prudence, comes nearest to aposto
lical practice, and tends most to advance the peace
and unity of the Church. What this form is he does
not presume to determine ; but no better key to its
discovery can be given than the advice of "his late
Majesty, of glorious memory," to divines of differing
* Chap. viii. p. 413.

462 EDWARD STILLINGFLEET : THE IRENICUM
opinions, to " lay aside private interests, and reduce
Episcopacy and Presbytery into such a well-propor
tioned form of superiority and subordination as may
best resemble the apostolical and primitive times, so
far forth as the different conditions of the times, and
the exigencies of all considerable circumstances, will
admit"! The elements of such a Church constitu
tion are — i. The restoration of presbyters as the
senate to the bishop. 2. The contraction of dio
ceses, and appointment of bishops at least in every
county town. 3. The constant preaching of the
bishop, and residence in his diocese. 4. The solem
nity of ordinations, with the consent of the people.
5. The observation of provincial synods twice every
year. 6. The employment of none in judging church
matters but the clergy ! Finally, whatever form of
government is determined upon by lawful authority,
should be submitted to in so far as it contains nothing
contrary to the word of God. The very fact that
the determination of Church government is a matter
of liberty, makes the government binding when once
lawfully determined.
Such was the Ideal Church of Stillingfleet, proba
bly of many of the younger and more thoughtful
clergy, on the eve of the Restoration. Unhappily,
their voice was unheard, or at least uninfluential.
The old parties represented by Baxter and Calamy^
^ Charles I. Second Paper to had become law, they would
the Ministers at Newport. have probably accepted the prefer-
2 Both Baxter and Calamy were ment offered them in the Church
in a certain sense moderate men, of England. But they had many
and, if what is known as the Wor- narrow prejudices, and neither
cester Declaration (October 1660) Calamy, at Breda, nor both at the

OF A COMPREHENSIVE CHURCH. 463
on one side, and Sheldon and Morley on the other,
exasperated and hardened by their long struggle,
continued for a time to wrangle with one another.
Both were alike incapable of rising above the dog
matisms which enslaved them, and which had deso
lated the country. The end was sufficiently mourn
ful, and bears mournful consequences unto this day ;
but the time may come when thoughts of wisdom
and moderation will prevail on this as on other sub
jects, and we may see the end, as Stillingfleet, in his
concluding sentence, dares to hope, " of our strange
divisions and unchristian animosities, while we pre
tend to serve the Prince of Peace."
Savoy Conference, can be said to the interests of a Comprehensive
have managed matters well in Church.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH,

3 9002 00577 1655

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