The Project Gutenberg eBook, The English Church in the Eighteenth Century, by Charles J. Abbey and John H. Overton This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The English Church in the Eighteenth Century Author: Charles J. Abbey and John H. Overton Release Date: October 2, 2005 [eBook #16791] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ENGLISH CHURCH IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY*** E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Lisa Reigel, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) THE ENGLISH CHURCH IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY BY CHARLES J. ABBEY RECTOR OF CHECKENDON: FORMERLY FELLOW OF UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, OXFORD AND JOHN H. OVERTON CANON OF LINCOLN AND RECTOR OF EPWORTH REVISED AND ABRIDGED NEW EDITION LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. LONDON, NEW YORK, AND BOMBAY 1896 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION Although this edition has been shortened to about half the length of the original one, it is essentially the same work. The reduction has been effected, partly by the omission of some whole chapters, partly by excisions. The chapters omitted are those upon the Jacobites, the Essayists, Church Cries, and Sacred Poetry—subjects which have only a more or less incidental bearing on the Church history of the period. The passages excised are, for the most part, quotations, discursive reflections, explanatory notes, occasional repetitions, and, speaking generally, whatever could be removed without injury to the general purpose of the narrative. There has been no attempt at abridgment in any other form. The authors are indebted to their reviewers for many kind remarks and much careful criticism. They have endeavoured to correct all errors which have been thus pointed out to them. As the nature of this work has sometimes been a little misapprehended, it should be added that its authors at no time intended it to be a regular history. When they first mapped out their respective shares in the joint undertaking, their design had been to write a number of short essays relating to many different features in the religion and Church history of England in the Eighteenth Century. This general purpose was adhered to; and it was only after much deliberation that the word 'Chapters' was substituted for 'Essays.' There was, however, one important modification. Fewer subjects were, in the issue, specifically discussed, but these more in detail; while some questions—such, for instance, as that of the Church in the Colonies—were scarcely touched upon. Hence a certain disproportion of treatment, which a general introductory chapter could but partially remedy. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION Some years have elapsed since the authors of this work first entertained the idea of writing upon certain aspects of religious life and thought in the Eighteenth Century. If the ground is no longer so unoccupied as it was then, it appears to them that there is still abundant room for the book which they now lay before the public. Their main subject is expressly the English Church, and they write as English Churchmen, taking, however, no narrower basis than that of the National Church itself. They desire to be responsible each for his own opinions only, and therefore the initials of the writer are attached to each chapter he has written. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. (C.J. Abbey.) Revived interest in the religious life of the eighteenth century 1 Lowered tone prevalent during a great part of the period 2 Loss of strength in the Puritan and Nonjuring ejections 3 Absorbing speculations connected with the Deistical controversy 4 Development of the ground principles of the Reformation 5 Fruits of the Deistical controversy 6 Its relation to the Methodist and Evangelical revivals 7 Impetus to Protestant feeling in the Revolution of 1689 8 Projects of Church comprehension 8 Methodism and the Church 9 The French Revolution 10 Passive Obedience and Divine Right 10 Jacobitism 11 Loss of the Nonjuring type of High Churchmen 12 Toleration 13 Church and State 15 Respect for the Church 16 Early part of the century richest in incident 17 Religious societies 17 The Sacheverell trial 18 Convocation 19 The later Nonjurors 19 The Essayists 20 Hoadly and the Bangorian controversy 21 The Methodist and Evangelical movements 21 Evidence writers 22 Results of the Evidential theology 23 Revival of practical activity at the end of the century 24 The Episcopate 24 General condition of religion and morality 25 Clergy and people 25 CHAPTER II. ROBERT NELSON: HIS FRIENDS AND CHURCH PRINCIPLES. (C.J. Abbey.) Contrast with the coarser forms of High Churchmanship in that age 26 Robert Nelson: general sketch of his life and doings 27 His Nonjuring friends 31 Ken 31 Bancroft and Frampton 32 Kettlewell 33 Dodwell 34 Hickes 36 Lee 38 Brokesby, Jeremy Collier, &c. 39 Exclusiveness among many Nonjurors 39 His friends in the National Church 40 Bull 40 Beveridge 42 Sharp 44 Smalridge 46 Grabe 47 Bray 48 Oglethorpe, Mapletoft, &c. 49 R. Nelson a High Churchman of wide sympathies 50 Deterioration of the later type of eighteenth century Anglicanism 51 Harm done to the English Church from the Nonjuring secession 51 Coincidence at that time of political and theological parties 52 Passive obedience as 'a doctrine of the Cross' 53 Decline of the doctrine 55 Loyalty 56 The State prayers 57 Temporary difficulties and permanent principles 58 Nonjuring Church principles scarcely separable from those of most High Churchmen of that age in the National Church 60 Nonjuror usages 61 Nonjuror Protestantism 63 Isolated position of the Nonjurors 64 Communications with the Eastern Church 65 General type of the Nonjuring theology and type of piety 68 Important function of this party in a Church 73 Religious promise of the early years of the century 74 Disappointment in the main of these hopes 75 CHAPTER III. THE DEISTS. (J.H. Overton.) Points at issue in the Deistical controversy 75-6 Deists not properly a sect 76 Some negative tenets of the Deists 77 Excitement caused by the subject of Deism 78 Toland's 'Christianity not mysterious' 79 Shaftesbury's 'Characteristics' 80-2 His protest against the Utilitarian view of Christianity 81 Collins's 'Discourse of Freethinking' 82-3 Bentley's 'Remarks' on Collins' 83-4 Collins's 'Discourse on the Grounds and Reasons of the Christian Religion' 84-5 Woolston's 'Six Discourses on the Miracles' 85 Sherlock's 'Tryal of the Witnesses' 86 Annet's 'Resurrection of Jesus Considered' 86 Tindal's 'Christianity as old as the Creation' 86-7 Conybeare's 'Defence of Revealed Religion' 87 Tindal the chief exponent of Deism 88 Morgan's 'Moral Philosopher' 89 Chubbs's works 90-1 'Christianity not founded on argument' 92-3 Bolingbroke's 'Philosophical Works' 93-6 Butler's 'Analogy' 96-7 Warburton's 'Divine Legation of Moses' 97-8 Berkeley's 'Alciphron, or the Minute Philosopher' 98-9 Leland's 'View of the Deistical Writers' 100-1 Pope's 'Essay on Man' 101-2 John Locke's relation to Deism 102-5 Effects of the Deistical controversy 106-8 Collapse of Deism 108 Want of sympathy with the Deists 110 Their unpopularity 111 CHAPTER IV. LATITUDINARIAN CHURCHMANSHIP. (1.) CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE OF ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON'S THEOLOGY. (C.J. Abbey.) Use of the term 'Latitudinarian' 112 In the eighteenth century 113 Archbishop Tillotson:— His close relationship with the eighteenth century 115 His immense repute as a writer and divine 115 Vehemence of the attack upon his opinions 117 His representative character 118 His appeal to reason in all religious questions 119 On spiritual influence 119 On Christian evidences 119 On involuntary error 120 On private judgment, its rights and limitations 121 Liberty of thought and 'Freethinking' in Tillotson's and the succeeding age 125 Tillotson on 'mysteries' 127 On the doctrine of the Trinity 129 On Christ's redemption 130 Theory of accommodation 131 The future state 133 Inadequate insistance on distinctive Christian doctrine 140 Religion and ethics 141 Goodness and happiness 142 Prudential religion 143 General type of Tillotson's latitudinarianism 145 CHAPTER V. LATITUDINARIAN CHURCHMANSHIP. (2.) CHURCH COMPREHENSION AND CHURCH REFORMERS. (C.J. Abbey.) Comprehension in the English Church 147 Attitude towards Rome in eighteenth century 148 Strength of Protestant feeling 148 Exceptional interest in the Gallican Church 149 Archbishop Wake and the Sorbonne divines 149 Alienation unmixed with interest in the middle of the eighteenth century 152 The exiled French clergy 154 The reformed churches abroad:— Relationship with them a practical question of great interest since James II.'s time 155 Alternation of feeling on the subject since the Reformation 156 The Protestant cause at the opening of the eighteenth century 158 The English Liturgy and Prussian Lutherans 160 Subsidence of interest in foreign Protestantism 163 Nonconformists at home:— Strong feeling in favour of a national unity in Church matters 164 Feeling at one time in favour of comprehension, both among Churchmen and Nonconformists 166 General view of the Comprehension Bills 169 The opportunity transitory 174 Church comprehension in the early part of the eighteenth century confessedly hopeless 175 Partial revival of the idea in the middle of the century 177 Comprehension of Methodists 180 Occasional conformity:— A simple question complicated by the Test Act 183 The Occasional Conformity Bill 184 Occasional conformity, apart from the test, a 'healing custom' 185 But by some strongly condemned 186 Important position it might have held in the system of the National Church 187 Revision of Church formularies; subscription:— Distaste for any ecclesiastical changes 188 The 'Free and Candid Disquisitions' 189 Subscription to the Articles 190 Arian subscription 193 Proposed revision of Church formularies 195 Isolation of the English Church at the end of the last century 195 The period unfitted to entertain and carry out ideas of Church development 196 CHAPTER VI. THE TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY. (J.H. Overton.) Importance of the question at issue 197 Four different views on the subject 198 Bull's 'Defensio Fidei Nicænæ' 199 Sherlock, Wallis, and South on the Trinity 200 Charles Leslie on Socinianism 201-2 William Whiston on the Trinity 202-4 Samuel Clarke the reviver of modern Arianism 204 Opponents of Clarke 205 Waterland on the Trinity 205-13 Excellences of Waterland's writings 213 Convocation and Dr. Clarke 214 Arianism among Dissenters 215 Arianism lapses into Socinianism.—Faustus Socinus 215 Modern Socinianism 216 Isaac Watts on the Trinity 217-9 Blackburne's 'Confessional' 219 Jones of Nayland on the Trinity 219-20 Priestley on the Trinity 220 Horsley's replies to Priestley 220-4 Unitarians and Trinitarians (nomenclature) 225 Deism and Unitarianism 226 CHAPTER VII. 'ENTHUSIASM.' (C.J. Abbey.) Meaning of 'Enthusiasm' as generally dreaded in the eighteenth century 226 A vague term, but important in the history of the period 227 As entering into most theological questions then under discussion 229 Cambridge Platonists: Cudworth, Henry More 230 Influence of Locke's philosophy 234 Warburton's 'Doctrine of Grace' 237 Sympathy with the reasonable rather than the spiritual side of religion 237 Absence of Mysticism in the last century, on any conspicuous scale 238 Mysticism found its chief vent in Quakerism 240 Quakerism in eighteenth century 241 Its strength, its decline, its claim to attention 244 French Mysticism in England. The 'French Prophets' 246 Fénelon, Bourignon, and Guyon 249 German Mysticism in England. Behmen 251 William Law 253 His active part in theological controversy 254 Effects of Mysticism on his theology 255 His breadth of sympathy and appreciation of all spiritual excellence 257 Position of, in the Deist controversy 259 Views on the Atonement 259 On the Christian evidences 260 Controversy with Mandeville on the foundations of moral virtue 261 His speculation on the future state 261 On Enthusiasm 263 His imitator in verse, John Byrom 264 The Moravians 265 Wesley's early intimacy with W. Law and with the Moravians 266 Lavington and others on the enthusiasm of Methodists 269 Points of resemblance and difference between Methodism and the Mystic revivals 271 Bearing of Berkeley's philosophy on the Mystic theology 274 William Blake 275 Dean Graves on enthusiasm 276 Samuel Coleridge 277 CHAPTER VIII. CHURCH ABUSES. (J.H. Overton.) Fair prospect at the beginning of the eighteenth century 279 Contrast between promise and performance 279 Shortcomings of the Church exaggerated on many sides 280 General causes of the low tone of the Church:— (1) Her outward prosperity 280 (2) Influence and policy of Sir R. Walpole 281 (3) The controversies of her own and previous generations 282 (4) Political complications 282 (5) Want of synodal action 282-4 Pluralities and non-residence 284-6 Neglect of parochial duties 286-7 Clerical poverty 287-9 Clerical dependents 289 Abuse of Church patronage 290-2 Evidence in the autobiography of Bishop T. Newton 292-3 " " " Bishop Watson 293-6 " " " Bishop Hurd 296-7 Clergy too much mixed up with politics 297-8 Want of parochial machinery 298-300 Sermons of period too sweepingly censured 300 But marked by a morbid dread of extremes 301 Political sermons 302 Low state of morals 303 Clergy superior to their contemporaries 304 The nation passed through a crisis in the eighteenth century 306 A period of transition in the Church 307 Torpor extended to all forms of Christianity 308 Decay of Church discipline 309-310 England better than her neighbours 311 Good influences in the later part of the century 311-2 CHAPTER IX. THE EVANGELICAL REVIVAL. (J.H. Overton.) (1.) THE METHODIST MOVEMENT. Strength and weakness of the Church in the middle of the eighteenth century 313 Propriety of the term 'Evangelical Revival' 314 Contrast between Puritans and Evangelicals 315 William Law 316 John Wesley 316-336 George Whitefield 337-340 Charles Wesley 340-3 Fletcher of Madeley 343-6 Selina, Countess of Huntingdon 347-354 Other Methodist worthies 355 (2.) THE CALVINISTIC CONTROVERSY. Feebleness and unprofitableness of the controversy 356 The disputes between Wesley and Whitefield 357-8 Minutes of the Conference of 1770 358-360 The 'Circular printed Letter' 360 Conference of 1771 361 Controversy breaks out afresh in 1772 362 Fletcher's checks to Antinomianism 363-5 Toplady's writings 365 (3.) THE EVANGELISTS. James Hervey 366-370 Grimshaw of Haworth 370-1 Berridge of Everton 371-2 William Romaine 372-4 Henry Venn 374-7 Evangelicalism and Methodism contemporaneous 377-8 John Newton 378-381 William Cowper 381-3 Thomas Scott 384-8 Richard Cecil 388 Joseph Milner 388-392 Isaac Milner 392-3 Robinson of Leicester 393-4 Bishop Porteus 394 'The Clapham Sect' 394 John and Henry Thornton 395 William Wilberforce 395-8 Lords Dartmouth and Teignmouth 398 Dr. Johnson 398-9 Hannah More 399-402 Strength and weakness of the Evangelical leaders 402-3 CHAPTER X. CHURCH FABRICS AND SERVICES. (C.J. Abbey.) The 'Georgian Age' 403 General sameness in the externals of worship 404 Church architecture 405 Vandalisms 407 Whitewash 408 Repairs of churches 409 Church naves; relics of mediæval usage 411 Pews and galleries 411 Other adjuncts of eighteenth century churches 414 Chancels and their ornaments 416 Paintings in churches 419 Stained glass 423 Church bells 425 Churchyards 427 Church building 428 Daily services 429 Wednesday and Friday services; Saints' days; Lent; Passion Week; Christmas Day, &c. 432 Wakes; Perambulations 436 State services 437 Church attendance 439 Irreverence in church 441 Variety of ceremonial 444 The vestment rubric; copes 445 The surplice; hood; scarf, &c. 446 Clerical costume 447 Postures of worship; Responses, &c. 449 Liturgical uniformity 451 Division of services 452 The Eucharist; Sacramental usages 453 Parish clerks 456 Organs; church music 458 Cathedrals 459 The 'bidding' and the 'pulpit' prayer 461 Preaching 463 Lecturers 466 Funeral sermons 468 Baptism 468 Catechising 469 Confirmation 470 Marriage 471 Funerals 471 Church discipline; excommunication; penance 472 Sunday observance 474 Conclusion 475 APPENDIX: List of Authorities 477 INDEX 489 THE ENGLISH CHURCH IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. The claim which the intellectual and religious life of England in the eighteenth century has upon our interest has been much more generally acknowledged of late years than was the case heretofore. There had been, for the most part, a disposition to pass it over somewhat slightly, as though the whole period were a prosaic and uninteresting one. Every generation is apt to depreciate the age which has so long preceded it as to have no direct bearing on present modes of life, but is yet not sufficiently distant as to have emerged into the full dignity of history. Besides, it cannot be denied that the records of the eighteenth century are, with two or three striking exceptions, not of a kind to stir the imagination. It was not a pictorial age; neither was it one of ardent feeling or energetic movement. Its special merits were not very obvious, and its prevailing faults had nothing dazzling in them, nothing that could be in any way called splendid; on the contrary, in its weaker points there was a distinctly ignoble element. The mainsprings of the religious, as well as of the political, life of the country were relaxed. In both one and the other the high feeling of faith was enervated; and this deficiency was sensibly felt in a lowering of general tone, both in the domain of intellect and in that of practice. The spirit of feudalism and of the old chivalry had all but departed, but had left a vacuum which was not yet supplied. As for loyalty, the half-hearted feeling of necessity or expedience, which for more than half the century was the main support of the German dynasty, was something different not in degree only, but in kind, from that which had upheld the throne in time past. Jacobitism, on the other hand, was not strong enough to be more than a faction; and the Republican party, who had once been equal to the Royalists in fervour of enthusiasm, and superior to them in intensity of purpose, were now wholly extinct. The country increased rapidly in strength and in material prosperity; its growth was uninterrupted; its resources continued to develop; its political constitution gained in power and consolidation. But there was a deficiency of disinterested principle. There was an open field for the operation of such sordid motives and debasing tactics as those which disgraced Walpole's lengthened administration. In the following chapters there will be only too frequent occasion to refer to a somewhat corresponding state of things in the religious life of the country. For two full centuries the land had laboured under the throes of the Reformation. Even when William III. died, it could scarcely be said that England had decisively settled the form which her National Church should take. The 'Church in danger' cries of Queen Anne's reign, and the bitter war of pamphlets, were outward indications that suspense was not yet completely over, and that both friends and enemies felt they had still occasion to calculate the chances alike of Presbyterianism and of the Papacy. But when George I. ascended the throne in peace, it was at last generally realised that the 'Settlement' of which so much had been spoken was now effectually attained. Church and State were so far secured from change, that their defenders might rest from anxiety. It was not a wholesome rest that followed. Long-standing disputes and the old familiar controversies were almost lulled to silence, but in their place a sluggish calm rapidly spread over the Church, not only over the established National Church, but over it and also over every community of Nonconformists. It is remarkable how closely the beginning of the season of spiritual lassitude corresponds with the accession of the first George. The country had never altogether recovered from the reaction of lax indifference into which it had fallen after the Restoration. Nevertheless, a good deal had occurred since that time to keep the minds of Churchmen, as well as of politicians, awake and active: and a good deal had been done to stem the tide of immorality which had then broken over the kingdom. The Church of England was certainly not asleep either in the time of the Seven Bishops, when James II. was King, or under its Whig rulers at the end of the century. And in Queen Anne's time, amid all the virulence of hostile Church parties, there was a healthy stream of life which made itself very visible in the numerous religious associations which sprang up everywhere in the great towns. It might seem as if there were a certain heaviness in the English mind, which requires some outward stimulus to keep alive its zeal. For so soon as the press of danger ceased, and party strifes abated, with the accession of the House of Brunswick, Christianity began forthwith to slumber. The trumpet of Wesley and Whitefield was needed before that unseemly slumber could again be broken. It will not, however, be forgotten that twice in successive generations the Church of England had been deprived, through misfortune or through folly, of some of her best men. She had suffered on either hand. By the ejection of 1602, through a too stringent enforcement of the new Act of Uniformity, she had lost the services of some of the most devoted of her Puritan sons, men whose views were in many cases no way distinguishable from those which had been held without rebuke by some of the most honoured bishops of Elizabeth's time. By the ejection of 1689, through what was surely a needless strain upon their allegiance, many high-minded men of a different order of thought were driven, if not from her communion, at all events from her ministrations. It was a juncture when the Church could ill afford to be weakened by the defection of some of the most earnest and disinterested upholders of the Primitive and Catholic, as contrasted with the more directly Protestant elements of her Constitution. This twofold drain upon her strength could scarcely have failed to impair the robust vitality which was soon to be so greatly needed to combat the early beginnings of the dead resistance of spiritual lethargy. But this listlessness in most branches of practical religion must partly be attributed to a cause which gives the history of religious thought in the eighteenth century its principal importance. In proportion as the Church Constitution approached its final settlement, and as the controversies, which from the beginning of the Reformation had been unceasingly under dispute, gradually wore themselves out, new questions came forward, far more profound and fundamental, and far more important in their speculative and practical bearings, than those which had attracted so much notice and stirred so much excitement during the two preceding centuries. The existence of God was scarcely called into question by the boldest doubters; or such doubts, if they found place at all, were expressed only under the most covert implications. But, short of this, all the mysteries of religion were scrutinized; all the deep and hidden things of faith were brought in question, and submitted to the test of reason. Is there such a thing as a revelation from God to men of Himself and of His will? If so, what is its nature, its purposes, its limits? What are the attributes of God? What is the meaning of life? What is man's hereafter? Does a divine spirit work in man? and if it does, what are its operations, and how are they distinguishable? What is spirit? and what is matter? What does faith rest upon? What is to be said of inspiration, and authority, and the essential attributes of a church? These, and other questions of the most essential religious importance, as the nature and signification of the doctrines of the Trinity, of the Incarnation of Christ, of Redemption, of Atonement, discussions as to the relations between faith and morals, and on the old, inevitable enigmas of necessity and liberty, all more or less entered into that mixed whirl of earnest inquiry and flippant scepticism which is summed up under the general name of the Deistic Controversy. For it is not hard to see how intimately the secondary controversies of the time were connected with that main and central one, which not only engrossed so much attention on the part of theologians and students, but became a subject of too general conversation in every coffee-house and place of public resort. In mental, as well as in physical science, it seems to be a law that force cannot be expended in one direction without some corresponding relaxation of it in another. And thus the disproportionate energies which were diverted to the intellectual side of religion were exercised at some cost to its practical part. Bishops were writing in their libraries, when otherwise they might have been travelling round their dioceses. Men were pondering over abstract questions of faith and morality, who else might have been engaged in planning or carrying out plans for the more active propagation of the faith, or a more general improvement in popular morals. The defenders of Christianity were searching out evidences, and battling with deistical objections, while they slackened in their fight against the more palpable assaults of the world and the flesh. Pulpits sounded with theological arguments where admonitions were urgently needed. Above all, reason was called to decide upon questions before which man's reason stands impotent; and imagination and emotion, those great auxiliaries to all deep religious feeling, were bid to stand rebuked in her presence, as hinderers of the rational faculty, and upstart pretenders to rights which were not theirs. 'Enthusiasm' was frowned down, and no small part of the light and fire of religion fell with it. Yet an age in which great questions were handled by great men could not be either an unfruitful or an uninteresting one. It might be unfruitful, in the sense of reaping no great harvest of results; and it might be uninteresting, in respect of not having much to show upon the surface, and exhibiting no great variety of active life. But much good fruit for the future was being developed and matured; and no one, who cares to see how the present grows out of the past, will readily allow that the religious thought and the religious action of the eighteenth century are deficient in interest to our times. Our debt is greater than many are inclined to acknowledge. People see clearly that the Church of that age was, in many respects, in an undoubtedly unsatisfactory condition, sleepy and full of abuses, and are sometimes apt to think that the Evangelical revival (the expression being used in its widest sense) was the one redeeming feature of it. And as in theological and ecclesiastical thought, in philosophy, in art, in poetry, the general tendency has been reactionary, the students and writers of the eighteenth century have in many respects scarcely received their due share of appreciation. Moreover, negative results make little display. There is not much to show for the earnest toil that has very likely been spent in arriving at them; and a great deal of the intellectual labour of the last century was of this kind. Reason had been more completely emancipated at the Reformation than it was at first at all aware of. Men who were engaged in battling against certain definite abuses, and certain specified errors, scarcely discovered at first, nor indeed for long afterwards, that they were in reality contending also for principles which would affect for the future the whole groundwork of religious conviction. They were not yet in a position to see that henceforward authority could take only a secondary place, and that they were installing in its room either reason or a more subtle spiritual faculty superior even to reason in the perception of spiritual things. It was not until near the end of the seventeenth century that the mind began to awaken to a full perception of the freedom it had won—a freedom far more complete in principle than was as yet allowed in practice. In the eighteenth century this fundamental postulate of the Reformation became for the first time a prominent, and, to many minds, an absorbing subject of inquiry. For the first time it was no longer disguised from sight by the incidental interest of its side issues. The assertors of the supremacy of reason were at first arrogantly, or even insolently, self-confident, as those who were secure of carrying all before them. Gradually, the wiser of them began to feel that their ambition must be largely moderated, and that they must be content with far more negative results than they had at first imagined. The question came to be, what is reason unable to do? What are its limits? and how is it to be supplemented? An immensity of learning, and of arguments good and bad, was lavished on either side in the controversy between the deists and the orthodox. In the end, it may perhaps be said that two axioms were established, which may sound in our own day like commonplaces, but which were certainly very insufficiently realised when the controversy began. It was seen on the one hand that reason was free, and that on the other it was encompassed by limitations against which it strives in vain. The Deists lost the day. Their objections to revelation fell through; and Christianity rose again, strengthened rather than weakened by their attack. Yet they had not laboured in vain, if success may be measured, not by the gaining of an immediate purpose, but by solid good effected, however contrary in kind to the object proposed. So far as a man works with a single-hearted desire to win truth, he should rejoice if his very errors are made, in the hands of an overruling Providence, instrumental in establishing truth. Christianity in England had arrived in the eighteenth century at one of those periods of revision when it has become absolutely necessary to examine the foundations of its teaching, at any risk of temporary disturbance to the faith of individuals. The advantage ultimately gained was twofold. It was not only that the vital doctrines of Christian faith had been scrutinised both by friends and enemies, and were felt to have stood the proof. But also defenders of received doctrine learnt, almost insensibly, very much from its opponents. They became aware—or if not they, at all events their successors became aware—that orthodoxy must, in some respects, modify the stringency of its conclusions; that there was need, in other instances, of disentangling Christian verities from the scholastic refinements which had gradually grown up around them; and that there were many questions which might safely be left open to debate without in any way impairing the real defences of Christianity. A sixteenth or seventeenth-century theologian regarded most religious questions from a standing point widely different in general character from that of his equal in piety and learning in the eighteenth century. The circumstances and tone of thought which gave rise to the Deistic and its attendant controversies mark with tolerable definiteness the chief period of transition. The Evangelical revival, both that which is chiefly connected with the name of the Wesleys and of Whitefield, and that which was carried on more exclusively within the Church of England, closely corresponded in many of its details to what had often occurred before in the history of the Christian Church. But it had also a special connection with the controversies which preceded it. When minds had become tranquillised through the subsidence of discussions which had threatened to overthrow their faith, they were the more prepared to listen with attention and respect to the stirring calls of the Evangelical preacher. The very sense of weariness, now that long controversy had at last come to its termination, tended to give a more entirely practical form to the new religious movement. And although many of its leaders were men who had not come to their prime till the Deistical controversy was almost over, and who would probably have viewed the strife, if it had still been raging, with scarcely any other feeling than one of alarmed concern, this was at all events not the case with John Wesley. There are tolerably clear signs that it had materially modified the character of his opinions. The train of thought which produced the younger Dodwell's 'Christianity not Founded upon Argument'—a book of which people scarcely knew, when it appeared, whether it was a serious blow to the Deist cause, or a formidable assistance to it—considerably influenced Wesley's mind, as it also did that of William Law and his followers. He entirely repudiated the mysticism which at one time had begun to attract him; but, like the German pietists, who were in some sense the religious complement of Rationalism, he never ceased to be comparatively indifferent to orthodoxy, so long as the man had the witness of the Spirit proving itself in works of faith. In whatever age of the Church Wesley had lived, he would have been no doubt an active agent in the holy work of evangelisation. But opposed as he was to prevailing influences, he was yet a man of his time. We can hardly fancy the John Wesley whom we know living in any other century than his own. Spending the most plastic, perhaps also the most reflective period of his life in a chief centre of theological activity, he was not unimpressed by the storm of argument which was at that time going on around him. It was uncongenial to his temper, but it did not fail to leave upon him its lasting mark. The Deistical and other theological controversies of the earlier half of the century, and the Wesleyan and Evangelical revival in its latter half, are quite sufficient in themselves to make the Church history of the period exceedingly important. They are beyond doubt its principal and leading events. But there was much more besides in the religious life of the country that is well worthy of note. The Revolution which had so lately preceded the opening of the century, and the far more pregnant and eventful Revolution which convulsed Europe at its close, had both of them many bearings, though of course in very different ways, upon the development of religious and ecclesiastical thought in this country. One of the first and principal effects of the change of dynasty in 1688 had been to give an immense impetus to Protestant feeling. This was something altogether different in kind from the Puritanism which had entered so largely into all the earlier history of that century. It was hardly a theological movement; neither was it one that bore primarily and directly upon personal religion. It was, so to say, a strategical movement of self defence. The aggression of James II. upon the Constitution had not excited half the anger and alarm which had been caused by his attempts to reintroduce Popery. And now that the exiled King had found a refuge in the court of the monarch who was not only regarded as the hereditary enemy of England, but was recognised throughout Europe as the great champion of the Roman Catholic cause, religion, pride, interest, and fear combined to make all parties in England stand by their common Protestantism. Not only was England prime leader in the struggle against Papal dominion; but Churchmen of all views, the great bulk of the Nonconformists, and all the reformed Churches abroad, agreed in thinking of the English Church as the chief bulwark of the Protestant interest. Projects of comprehension had ended in failure before the eighteenth century opened. But they were still fresh in memory, and men who had taken great interest in them were still living, and holding places of honour. For years to come there were many who greatly regretted that the scheme of 1689 had not been carried out, and whose minds constantly recurred to the possibility of another opportunity coming about in their time. Such ideas, though they scarcely took any practical form, cannot be left out of account in the Church history of the period. In the midst of all that strife of parties which characterised Queen Anne's reign, a longing desire for Church unity was by no means absent. Only these aspirations had taken by this time a somewhat altered form. The history of the English Constitution has ever been marked by alternations, in which Conservatism and attachment to established authority have sometimes been altogether predominant, at other times a resolute, even passionate contention for the security and increase of liberty. In Queen Anne's reign a reaction of the former kind set in, not indeed by any means universal, but sufficient to contrast very strongly with the period which had preceded it. One of the symptoms of it was a very decided current of popular feeling in favour of the Church. People began to think it possible, or even probable, that with the existing generation of Dissenters English Nonconformity would so nearly end, as to be no longer a power that would have to be taken into any practical account. Concession, therefore, to the scruples of 'weak brethren' seemed to be no longer needful; and if alterations were not really called for, evidently they would be only useless and unsettling. In this reign, therefore, aspirations after unity chiefly took the form of friendly overtures between Church dignitaries in England and the Lutheran and other reformed communities abroad, as also with such leaders of the Gallican party as were inclined, if possible, to throw off the Papal supremacy and to effect at the same time certain religious and ecclesiastical reforms. Throughout the middle of the century there was not so much any craving for unity as what bore some outward resemblance to it, an indolent love of mere tranquillity. The correspondence, however, that passed between Doddridge and some of the bishops, and the interest excited by the 'Free and Candid Disquisitions,' showed that ideas of Church comprehension were not yet forgotten. About this date, another cause, in addition to the quieta non movere principle, interfered to the hindrance of any such proposals. Persons who entertained Arian and other heterodox opinions upon the doctrine of the Trinity were an active and increasing party; and there was fear lest any attempt to enlarge the borders of the Church should only, or chiefly, result in their procuring some modifications of the Liturgy in their favour. Later in the century, the general question revived in immediate interest under a new form. It was no longer asked, how shall we win to our national communion those who have hitherto declined to recognise its authority? The great ecclesiastical question of the day—if only it could have been taken in hand with sufficient earnestness—was rather this: how shall we keep among us in true Church fellowship this great body of religiously minded men and women who, by the mouth of their principal leader, profess real attachment to the Church of England, and yet want a liberty and freedom from rule which we know not how to give? No doubt it was a difficulty—more difficult than may at first appear—to incorporate the activities of Methodism into the general system of the National Church. Only it is very certain that obstacles which might have been overcome were not generally grappled with in the spirit, or with the seriousness of purpose, which the crisis deserved. Meanwhile, at the close of the period, when this question had scarcely been finally decided, the Revolution broke out in France. In the terror of that convulsion, when Christianity itself was for the first time deposed in France, and none knew how widely the outbreak would extend, or what would be the bound of such insurrection against laws human and divine, the unity of a common Christianity could not fail to be felt more strongly than any lesser causes of disunion. There was a kindness and sympathy of feeling manifested towards the banished French clergy, which was something almost new in the history of Protestantism. The same cause contributed to promote the good understanding which at this time subsisted between a considerable section of Churchmen and Dissenters. Possibly some practical efforts might have been set on foot towards healing religious divisions, if the open war waged against Christianity had long been in suspense. As it was, other feelings came in, which tended rather to widen than to diminish the breach between men of strong and earnest opinions on different sides. In some men of warm religious feeling the Revolution excited a fervent spirit of Radicalism. However much they deplored the excesses and horrors which had taken place in France, they did not cease to contemplate with passionate hope the tumultuous upheaval of all old institutions, trusting that out of the ruins of the past a new and better future would derive its birth. The great majority of Englishmen, on the other hand, startled and terrified with what they saw, became fixed in a resolute determination that they would endure no sort of tampering with the English Constitution in Church or State. Whatever changes might be made for better or for worse, they would in any case have no change now. Conservatism became in their eyes a sort of religious principle from which they could not deviate without peril of treason to their faith. This was an exceedingly common feeling; among none more so than with that general bulk of steady sober-minded people of the middle classes without whose consent changes, in which they would feel strongly interested, could never be carried out. The extreme end of the last century was not a time when Church legislation, for however excellent an object, was likely to be carried out, or even thought of. To return to the beginning of the period under review. 'Divine right,' 'Passive obedience,' 'Non-resistance,' are phrases which long ago have lost life, and which sound over the gulf of time like faint and shadowy echoes of controversies which belong to an already distant past. Even in the middle of the century it must have been difficult to realise the vehemence with which the semi-religious, semi-political, doctrines contained in those terms had been disputed and maintained in the generation preceding. Yet round those doctrines, in defence or in opposition, some of the best and most honourable principles of human nature used to be gathered—a high-minded love of liberty on the one hand, a no less lofty spirit of self-sacrifice and loyalty on the other. The open or half-concealed Jacobitism which, for many years after the Revolution, prevailed in perhaps the majority of eighteenth-century parsonages could scarcely fail of influencing the English Church at large, both in its general action, and in its relation to the State. This influence was in many respects a very mischievous one. In country parishes, and still more so in the universities, it fostered an unquiet political spirit which was prejudicial both to steady pastoral work and to the advancement of sound learning. It also greatly disturbed the internal unity of the Church, and that in a manner peculiarly prejudicial to its well-being. Strong doctrinal and ecclesiastical differences within a Church may do much more good in stirring a wholesome spirit of emulation, and in keeping thought alive and preventing a Church from narrowing into a sect, than they do harm by creating a spirit of division. But the semi-political element which infused its bitterness into Church parties during the first half of the eighteenth century, had no such merit. It did nothing to promote either practical activity or theological inquiry. Under its influence High and Broad Church were too often not so much rival schools of religious thought, and representatives of different tones of religious feeling, as rival factions. King William's bishops—a set of men who, on the whole, did very high honour to his selection—were regarded by a number of the clergy with suspicion and aversion, as his pledged supporters both in political and ecclesiastical matters, no less ready to upset the established order of the Church than they had been to change the ancient succession of the throne. These, in their turn, scarcely cared to conceal, if not their scorn, at all events their supreme mistrust, for men who seemed in their eyes like bigoted disturbers of a Constitution in which the country had every reason to rejoice. More than this, Jacobitism brought the National Church into peril of downright schism. There was already a nucleus for it. If the Nonjuring separation had been nothing more than the secession of a number of High Churchmen—some of them conspicuous for their piety and learning, and almost all worthy of respect as disinterested men who had strong convictions and stood by them—the loss of such men would, even so, have been a serious matter. But the evil did not end there. Although the Nonjurors, especially after the return of Nelson and others into the lay communion of the Established Church, were often spoken of with contempt as an insignificant body, an important Jacobite success might at any time have vastly swelled their number. A great many clergymen and leading country families had simply acquiesced in the rule of William as king de facto, and would have transferred their allegiance without a scruple if there had seemed a strong likelihood that James or the Pretender would win the crown back again. In this case the Nonjuring communion, which always proudly insisted that it alone was the true old Church of England, might have received an immense accession of adherents. It would not by any means have based its distinctive character upon mere Jacobite principles. It would have claimed to be peculiarly representative of the Catholic claims of the English Church, while Whigs and Low Churchmen would have been more than ever convertible terms. As it was, High Churchism among country squires took a different turn. But if the Stuart cause had become once more a promising one, and had associated itself, in its relations towards the Church, with the opinions and ritual to which the Nonjurors were no less attached than Laud and his followers were in Charles I.'s day, it is easy to guess that such distinctive usages might soon be welcomed with enthusiasm by Jacobites, if for no other reason, yet as hallowed symbols of a party. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, Church parties had been already strained and most unhappily embittered by political dissensions; under the circumstances supposed, division might readily have been aggravated into hopeless schism. But Jacobitism declined; and a less, but still a serious evil to the Church ensued. Jacobitism and the Papacy had become in most people's minds closely connected ideas. Hence the opinions upon Church matters prevalent among Nonjurors and their ecclesiastical sympathisers in the Established Church became also unpopular, and tainted with an unmerited suspicion of leaning towards Rome. This was no gain to the Church of the Georgian era. Quite independently of any bias which a person may feel towards this or that shade of opinion upon debated questions, it may be asserted with perfect confidence that the Church of that period would decidedly have gained by an increase of life and earnestness in any one section of its members. A colourless indifferentism was the pest of the age. Some movement in the too still waters was sorely needed. A few Ritualists, as they would now be called, in the metropolitan churches, zealous and active men, would have stimulated within the Church a certain interest and excitement which, whether it were friendly or hostile, would have been almost certainly beneficial. But, in the middle of the century, High Churchmen of this type would scarcely be found, except in Nonjuror 'conventicles,' and among the oppressed Episcopalians of Scotland. The public relations of civil society towards religion attracted in the eighteenth century—especially in the earlier part of it —very universal attention. Of the various questions that come under this head, there was none of such practical and immediate importance as that which was concerned with the toleration of religious differences. The Toleration Act had been carried amid general approval. There had been little enthusiasm about it, but also very little opposition. Though it fell far short of what would now be understood by tolerance, it was fully up to the level of the times. It fairly expressed what was thoroughly the case; that the spirit of intolerance had very much decreased, and that a feeling in favour of religious liberty was decidedly gaining ground. Meanwhile, in King William's reign, and still more so in that of his successor, there was a very strongly marked contention and perplexity of feeling as to what was really meant by toleration, and where its limits were to be fixed. Everybody professed to be in favour of it, so long as it was interpreted according to his own rule. The principle was granted, but there were few who had any clear idea as to the grounds upon which they granted it, and still fewer who did not think it was a principle to be carefully fenced round with limitations. The Act of Toleration had been itself based in great measure upon mere temporary consider...