The nonconformist's sketch-book [by E. Miall]. by E. Miall

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books discoverable online. It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you. Usage guidelines Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. We also ask that you: + Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes. + Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. + Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. + Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe. About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http : //books . google . com/ lb blvlJiiUi .DOOk. ^ «irifs of t^iftns. :Ni)ANI iVii 1>U\V A V ■Illlllllll 600088044U THE NONCONFORMIST'S SKETCH-BOOK: % $txm ai f wfes, CLASSIFIED IN FOUR aEOUPS, or A STATE CHUBCH AND ITS ATTENDANT EVILS. BY EDWARD MIALL. {Originally published in 1841}. ITEW EDITIOir. [0/ J LONDON: ^S!: ARTHUR MIALL, PUBLISHER, 18, BOTJVEEIE STREET, E.C. 1867. //^ J : //ir- / PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION. After having been allowed to remain out of print for many years, The Nonconformist 8 Sketch Book is now republished by the writer with some reluctance, and solely in self-defence. Until the recent Bradford election, it had been his intention to let it remain in obscurity, save to the few individuals who might chance to possess original copies of it. The abandonment of that intention is owing to what he regards as the unfair use of it made in that contest. True, it had often been so used before. A certain Evangelical clergyman at Cliffcon was once at the pains of detaching from the volume a long string of short sentences, ranging them under different headings, and circulating them far and wide in a four- paged tract, as "Opinions oif the Editor of TJie Non- conformist" The date* at which they were published having been carefully suppressed, and the most pungent passages having been selected and exhibited apart from IV PBEFACE. everything in the context that might qualify them, the- collection was made to assume as irritating and offensive a form as possible. Most clergymen, probably, have seen, and not a few have made effective use of, these excerpta; while the numbers of them who have read the book from which they were torn, must have been very limited indeed. At length it became a favourite mode of attempting to paralyse the writer's moral influence in places at which, he intended to address the public, to insert these extracts^ or some of them, in the local journals, or to scatter them abroad in the shape of handbills, and they have even been quoted, for the purpose of exciting indignation, in. both Houses of Parliament As might have been expected^ the walls of Bradford were placarded with a double siring of these detached passages, one especially meant to pro- voke Churchmen, the other Dissenters, and the gentle-^ man who seconded the writer s political opponent, described the book from which the quotations were taken, and yrhkh he said he had read, as a wicked publication. Of course, the author deems himself responsible for what- ever he has published, but only in the sense in which he meant it to be received, with the qualifications which modified his most incisive phrases, and in application to the particular condition of thiags which he then had ia PBEFAC£. V view. Twenty-six years have made an immense difference in the aspect of ecclesiastical affairs in this country. Tilings which might have been truly said, whether of .State-Churchmen or of Dissenters, a generation back, may be, and, in some respects are, wholly inapplicable now. Things that were penned in biting terms, may lose some- what of their apparent fierceness, when read in connection with their context, and with the whole design of the work in which they appear. The author is driven to the republication of this volume that both his friends and his opponents may at least have an opportunity of making themselves acquainted with its real merits or demerits. With this view it is printed verbatim from the only impression ever offered to the public. Nothing is altered ; nothing is excised. No notes have been appended, as would have been done if the object of this reissue had been a controversial rather than a self-defensive one. So far as what the book contains is capable of just application in the present day, the reader is left to discover it for himself The sole object of the writer has been to reproduce it as it stood, that if he is to be judged of exclusively by what it contains, and without reference to anything which he has written subsequently, lie may be judged of by the whole work, and not by yi PBEFACE. biief sentences culled from it for the purpose of damaging Lis reputation. If he is asked whether the republication of this volume is to be regarded as .a vindication of the tone and style in which it was written, the wiiter frankly answei-s that it is not. "Were he called upon in his maturer flge by sense of duty to go over afresh the same lines of • thought, his disposition would incline him to bear him- self more gently, and in a somewhat more modest, kindly, charitable spirit than he did when he was a controversial novice. In regard to both taste and temper, there are many phrases and several passages in the book which he could wish had never been written, and more particularly those which apply to large bodies of men rather than to the systems with which they are asso- ciated. He has lived long enough to be convinced that personal worth cannot be fairly judged of by a mere reference to the opinions which men profess, and that ecclesiastical systems which are logically indefensible and practically mischievous, may be upheld from motives of honour and of conscience. At the same time, he can most truly aver that even when his zeal outran his charity, he was as imconscious as he is at this moment of personal enmity towards any, and was intent on waking; PBEFAC£. vii up the conscience rather than on wounding the feelings. A wider knowledge of mankind and a more intimate acquaintance with his own nature have since taught him to appreciate the superior power of gentleness in every effort designed to secure high moral results. There will be found in this book, as has been already intimated, much that has become inapplicable in thb present day. "When the writer commenced his self- imposed task, the question of the proper relation of law to religious institutions was generally looked upon, even by Protestant Dissenters, as a mere "abstraction," partly, perhaps, because premature movements to effect a radical change, had led to prompt discomfiture. Political movements with a view to religious results were almost universally deprecated. There was, in relation to the jsubject here treated of, a general stagnation, not so much of thought, as of corresponding action. In the press and in Parliament the remotest idea of separating the Church from the State was scouted as the wildest insanity. There prevailed "a darkness that might be felt," "and there was none that moved the wing, or opened the mouth, or peeped," at least in England, for in Scotland things were different. In 1841, when the journal was established from the first volume of which the following VUl PEEPACE. papers were collected and reprinted, it stood alone in the advocacy of a dissolution of the union of Church and State as a practical question. The sense of solitariness which the then state of public opinion forced upon the writer, will account in part for the intensity of his tone of expression. He felt himself as "one crying in the wilderness." The course of events has brought about a marvellous change of view in reference to the subject. At any rate, it is no longer tabooed as it was at that period. Statesmen of all shades of political opinion are obliged to regard it as a question "looming in the distance," and that distance, so far as Ireland is con- cerned, not very remote. It will be obvious, therefore, that many statements found in this volume, correct as they may have been at the time they were written, have long since ceased to apply. The revival of a devout and godly spirit within the Establishment during the last five-and-twenty years has been remarkable, and the writer protests against being challenged ior what he said so long since, as if he had said it in reference to the existing and altered state of things. Yet this unfairness is being constantly practised towards him, and that, too, by clergymen from whom better things might have been expected. If The NonconformiBiB Sketch-Booh now obtains PBEFACE. IX a wider circulation than when it was originally published, it will be owing, in great measure, to the pains they have taken to advertise it. It is due to himself to state in conclusion that the writer still adheres to the lines of argument pursued in this volume. These he is not at all disposed to abandon. They set forth views which he honestly continues to enter- tain. Only, when he speaks of the Church of England it must be imderstood that he does not now, nor did he at first, refer to it as a spiritual, but solely as a political, institution. His one object was to expose the injury done to Christianity aud to Christian organisations, by resorting to the agency of civil law in the support and the promo- tion of them. It was the legal, not the religious, element of the Anglican Church, against which he levied his denunciations, or if at any time against the latter, solely as a natural consequence of the former. On this head, be is unable to retract anything, and to his own judg- ment the substance of the book is as pertinent as ever it was. Wellaih) Housb, Fobbst Hill, S.E., Nov. 18, 1867. PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITIOJf. The following sketches of a State Church were originally published in successive numbers of the Nonconfoimiist news- paper. They were intended to be a popular exhibition of the multifoim evils inflicted upon this country by a National Establishment of Religion. This must serve as an apology for the character of style which has been adopted. Sensible as the writer is of its numerous deficiencies, he yet ventures to think that^ taking into consideration the fact that he is conducting a grave argument, not for the benefit of a select circle of readers, but for the perusal of all classes indiscrimi- nately, the vehicle which he has chosen for his thoughts is not altogether inappropriate. The question of a separation of the Church from the State is not one interesting to the theologian only — it deeply concerns all ranks and orders of men in the kingdom. It is, consequently, a matter of importance that it should be treated of in such manner as to bring it within the range of all minds, and this could only be done by addressing the common sense of men, and by discarding, as far as possible, the sinere technicalities of the divine. The writer has endeavoured to imagine himself addressing a mixed audience, with whom to gain his end it XU PREFACE. was necessary to be serious without prosing, and to be lively without exposing himself to the charge of levity. -The argu- ments are therefore brief, and must be looked upon rather as suggestions to the thoughtful than as complete trains of reasoning. They are bare outlines which the reader is left to fill up. It may be thought necessary by some that the writer should apologise for the freedom with which he has remarked upon the conduct of classes of men whose failings have usually secured the utmost lenity of treatment. In the writer's opinion no such apology is due. For man he has a high reverence — for distinct orders of men, considered as such, he has none. Never is office perverted to more per- nicious ends than when it is made to shield from censure those who are justly chargeable with inconsistency. That is ^together a blind courtesy which consults the feelings of any class at the expense of truth. The main question is, whether the charges brought against the clergy of the Estab- lishment, or against Dissenting ministers, can be borne out. If they can, silence would be criminal ; if they cannot, they are to be objected to for their falsehood, and for that only. Nor has the writer the slightest sympathy with those who think that Christianity demands that the worst evils should be rebuked in honied sentences. He finds no warrant for this in the sacred Scriptures. Things are called by their right names there. The periphrastic mode of exhibiting truth, which takes off all angularity, and makes the worst of ^vils appear almost as harmless as innocence itself, is but a special mode of deception by which men fancy that they are ►exercising charity, when, in truth, they are but indulging a PBEFACE. XllI particular order of selfishness. ' The inspired writers never speak of a lie as "a deviation from the strict line of truth," nor of drunkenness as "an inordinate attachment to the pleasures of the table." The refinement of the present age is the refinement of aristocracy, not of Christianity. Plain speaking m!ay, in truth, exhibit far less bitterness of spirit than the most roundabout and polite terms. He who would hurt the feelings of another further than the cause of truth requires, is unquestionably bitter ; but he who pretends to expose a sinful system, without hurting the feelings of its abettors, is doing but little for the advantage of Christianity. The writer of these sketches can sincerely say that he is utterly unconscious of all ill-feeling towards any party, or any class of individuals. He would not wantonly wound a single heart. As far as he knows himself, he would not willingly inflict pain upon the meanest of the brute creation ; but he sees no reason why an indisposition to annoy others should be a bar to his presenting important truth to the notice of his readers just as it is, or rather just as it appears to his own mind, without circumlocution and without false colour- ing. He does not insist upon the necessary correctness of lus opinion of men and things, but such as his opinion is, he thinks it right to give it fairly to the world. The reader will find nothing in these sketches which the writer does not sincerely think, and he has aimed not to conceal his thoughts, but to msike them understood. If occasionally he has em- ployed strong language, he has done so because weaker would not so well have expressed his views. His object has been, not to exhibit a specimen of polite controversy, but to leave upon the reader's mind a true, distinct, and abiding 3aV PREFACE. impression of what lie believes to be a terrible evil. Let his language be judged of by that end. Men thoroughly in earnest are seldom adepts in mincing their terms. To the earnest consideration of the public he now com- mends these light and imperfect sketches. Whatever may be the faults of the writer, the subject-matter of his thoughts is well worthy of attention. He could have wished to have approached nearer to his own idea of what this volume ought to be. As it is, he sends it forth to the world in its present shape with mingled diffidence and hope ; and if his thoughts meet with but fair attention, he neither asks nor expects quarter for himself. He would rather convince ten men than please a thousand. Stoke Newingtox, June 20, 1842. CONTENTS. Preface to the Present Editton ... . . . iii Preface to the Original Edition xi A STATE CHURCH VIEWED FROM THE GROUND OP CONSISTENT DISSENT. I The ** Grievance "firror .3 IL The Index of Weakness . . . . ... 6 III. The Mission iSvadei '. . '. . . . '. 9 IV. The Remonstrance 13 V. The Plea Examined 18 VI. Duty and the Means to its Performance . . . *"' . -23 VII. The Great Alternative 26 VIII. The Power of Voluntary Christianity . . . .31 IX. Abstract Principles'. •. • 35 X The Helmsman • . • . * 40 POLITICAL VIEWS OF A STATfi CflURCH. L Separation Defined . . . . . . . .47 IL The Church and the Aristocracy 65 III. The National Drag-CTiain . . . . . .60 IV. Gall in the PoUticaL World ...... 66 V. A State Church the Nurse and Patroness of War . .68 VI. Monopoly Sanctioned and Abetted by a State Church . 72 VIL The Church and the Throne 77 VUL The Influence of the State Church upon Public Political Opinion . . . ...... 83 IX. A State Church Unfriendly to Popular Education . . 89 X A Word to Liberal Statesmen 95 XVI CONTENTS. A STATE CHURCH VIEWED IN THE LIGHT OF COMMON SENSE. PAGV L Wliat a State Church professes to do . . . . 103 n. The Two Great Varieties of Religious Instruction . . 108 III. The State — its Qualifications for Providing Religious Instruction 114 IV. The Self-imposed Duty of the State 119 V. The Disadvantage of Stereotyped Doctrine . . • 125 VI. Compound Subtraction by Simple Addition . . . 130 VIL The Cure of Souls— Property 135 VEIL Priestism 141 IX. Religion by Proxy 147 X. Toleration 153 XL Moral Effects of Toleration 159 XIL Drugged and Drowsy Voluntaryism .... 165 XnL Absenters 170 THE STATE CHURCH SEEN IN CONTRAST WITH CHRISTLAlNITY. L The Forced Marriage 179 11. Spiritual Dynamics 183 III. Coercion • . ,. 187 IV. Ecclesiastical Pomp 191 V. Lordship 19& VL PeU-mell 201 Vn. The Rights of Conscience 20(> Vni. The Wrong Side Upwards 210 IX. Vested Rights. 215 X. The Wrangler . ; .219 XI. Summing Up 223 Xn. Conclusion 227 Church Property National Property 235 Tithes and Bequests 238 The Testimony of History in re Tithes 241 Fallacies Lurking under the Term ** Church " . . . , 247 T5-! ritiP ., ira- A. jp JUND OF It will be seen that in this group of views the State Church only appears in the distance. The reader is made acquainted with the relative bearings of a National Establishment and Dissent. The mistaken position taken up by modem Nonconformists is pointed Out. The obstructions which have stood in the way of a clearer view of the question are exposed. The necessity of regarding a State Church from the high ground of religious principle is insisted upon. The whole series is designed to be preliminary to a closer inspection of the evils, political, philosophical, and religious, resulting from the alliance between Church and State. THE ^^aEIEVANCB" ERROR. How does it happen that in looking over the records of our Legislature, we find every reference now made to Dis- senters by men of all parties, marked by a tone so different from that which formerly prevailed 1 Whence comes the seemingly mysterious change that has passed upon them since the great campaigns which terminated in the ;*epeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, and the emancipa- tion of our Roman Catholic fellow-countrymen 1 Ten year^* since their voice commanded a respectful attention; their movements were bold, vigorous, and successful- Now, although they have gained in numbers, are possessed of equal wealth; and superior intelligence, they are despised, and, what is worse, despised with impunity. A Registration Act and a Marriage Bill have been ceded to them, it is true, by a Reformed Parliament. But setting these aside, to what quarter can they look for self-gratida- tion. The continuation of church-rates, ecclesiastical im- prisonments, workhouse chaplains, colonial bishoprics, and demands for Church extension, prove that they are no longer formidable. Their own movements are not what they once were, well-planned and skilftdly-conducted enter- prises. They are more like insurrections — fitful, sudden, partial in extent, easily suppressed, productive of no bene- ficial result. Dissenters are without union ; they have lost heart, the prestige of their power is gone. When, however, they are taunted by Whigs, Tories, and Badicals, with their mutual disagreements, and sectarian jealousies, whilst there may be some truth in the reproach, it does nothing to lay open the true cause of their present weakness. Differences of opinion, strong and even bigoted attachment to theological creeds, are nob things of yester- day's growth. They always have existed, always will exist. With men not wholly indifferent to truth, there is a natural and invariable tendency, in the absence of higher and more commanding motives, to fall apart into distinct bodies, and become sectarian, both in spirit and in aim. Nor is this law of our nature to be torn up and ^xmg aside by the railings of politicians. To fuse minds of different original construction, of different habits and modes of thought, of different tastes and affections, into unity of purpose, requires the presence and energy of some broad intelligible principle, in which all can unite, the realisation of which all can regard as worthy of a struggle, and in the working out of which all will be content to merge their minor differences, and deliberate, and speak, and act, as one man. The secret of the present humiliating position of Dis- senters is, that their proceedings have, of late, been based on no intelligible principle at all. They put forward the redress of " practical grievances " as their bond of union. We have no disposition to quarrel with the gentlemen who decided upon this policy, to impugn their motives, or to depreciate their judgment. We know how easy it is, after the event, to point out the certain cause of failure. Their mistake was, perhaps, natural, but it was fatal. From the moment this system of tactics was adopted, energy began to decline, zeal to grow cold, and disunion to appear. The timidity, the selfishness, the petty character of the proposed enter- prise, quickly produced their baneful results. One unsuc- cessful contest decided the matter. Then came languor, THE "OBIEVANCB" EBBOB. O indifference, mutual recriminations and disastrous defeat. Dissenters are now like a disbanded army. The materials of strength exist among them in abundance, but without the discipline which once combined them and rendered their strength available against the foes of religious freedom. Why should Dissenters conceal from themselves what is known to all the world 1 They are no longer respected — they are feared by none. In tracing their present weakness ta its right source, we indicate the only efficient remedy. They must begin again the struggle with intolerance. Let them begin wisely. Ultimate success will require union, patience, persevering energy, and considerable self-sacrifice, [their aim must therefore be a worthy one. It must involve a noble prin- ciple. It must be honest, direct, and final. The entibe Sepabation of Chubch and State is really their object. It becomes Dissenters feirly to avow it, soberly to set about it, and in all earnestness to gird and discipline themselves for a final grapple with ecclesiastical tyranny. n. THE INDEX OF WEAKNESS. Cant plirases are not wholly to be despised. Worthless as they are in themselves, they have their uses. They are the straws in the air — ^the chips in the stream, which serve to show the current of opinion. They are the crannies and chinks in the professions put forward by party, through which we may look and discover the hidden principles by which it is swayed. They express little, but they often indicate much. Like the stratum which lies immediately over a seam of coal, they may be regarded as mere rubbish ; but then it is rubbish we are delighted to find, inasmuch as it . is in certain contact with a mine of wealth. What a vein of truth, for instance, lies buried beneath the "No Popery " cry, in whatever region of history it is found to liave prevailed ! The philosopher, when he meets with it, may close his books, and, without their aid, lay down with unerring accuracy, a general outline of the events to be met with in its immediate neighbourhood. " The practical grievances of Dissenters," is a cant phrase <^f this description. It matters not a rush by whom it was coined — its circulation was once extensive. Every one knew what it meant, and what it did not mean. It meant church-rates, exclusion from the Universities, the compul- sory celebration of marriage rites at the Established Church, <fec. It did not mean the union of Church and State. It was invented purposely to throw that question THE INDEX OF WEAKNESS. into the dark. At first glance it appears notbing more than an ordinary string of words. But let it be subjected to fair analysis, and we mistake if it does not contain within it the key to our recent history, the secret to our present " The PRACTICAL grievances," forsooth ! as though the union of Church and State were a mere theory — a specula- tion, an abstract unembodied principle about which it would be foolish to contend ! As though the assumption by the Iiefidslature of authority to deal with the religious feith and exercises of its subjects were no'lafth at all ! As though it injured no one, perpetrated no real mischief, and might be safely left for discussion as a matter of opinion when the practical grievances of Dissenters shall have been redressed ! The very cast of the phrase speaks volumes. Men, whose principles are in direct antagonism to an establishment of religion, would not be startled from their propriety at the bare idea of bringing the alliance now subsisting between Church and State to a close, but that they have not' habituated themselves to regard the evil as a practical one. ' They could not have left the question where it is, had they not looked upon it as a kind of remote error, which must be left for time alone to rectify. The conduct of English Dissenters has been tantamount to this — "Relieve us — redress our wrongs — ^give us what, as citizens, we may demand — and we will let truth and religion shift for them- Now, it is very far from our intention to charge Dis- senters with the deliberate entertainment of this selfish design. We know them better. No body of men have given more costly or more numerous pledges of their anxiety to advance the cause of truth. We maintain, however, that as far as their great distinctive principle is concerned, their proceedings have presented to the minds of 8 THE INDEX OF WEAKNESS. shrewd penetrating politicians an aspect of meanness wHcIi has excited their contempt. No great wonder if they are looked upon as mere quacks, raising a great clamour, which, after all, means nothing. AU great questions have been settled by men in earnest — by men who have bound a principle about their hearts which they come to regard as " part and parcel " of their being. Little, peddling, temporising policy, never yet con- ferred a lasting benefit upon the world. Dissenters have found their punishment in their mistake. Their "practical grievances " remain much where they did. High-Churchism haft been emboldened, and is becoming every day more arrogant and more rapacious. To the catalogue of "grievances" others have been since added, and more are in preparation. Priestcraft stalks through the land in undisguised triumph — and Christianity, betrayed and for- saken by those whose principles bound them to stand by her, is made an instrument to work out the designs of a selfish aristocracy. Dissenters see it and are silent. III. THE MISSION EVADED. A NOBLEB mission than that with which Dissenters are charged, it is difficult to conceive. li^ when truth beckons, men are bound to attend — ^if, when truth is heard, they &e under obligation to give utterance to the revelation she has vouchsafed to them, duties more weighty or more honour- able than those devolving upon the Nonconformists of this ^ country, were never laid upon any religious body. A more splendid career of usefidness was not opened to the army of martyrs, who with incredible labours and rivers of blood, worked out the Reformation, than that which invites the onward march of Protestant Dissenters. "We speak advisedly. Those principles which, under the wise arrangements of Providence, were gradually evolved out of the sufferings, the consuming anxieties, the tortures, the death of so many great and good men, could not be trivial ones. Means so costly were not designed to accom- plish an end of small importance. The mantle which our forefathers let fall upon their descendants was never mean to be folded up and laid aside. If we have nothing to do for the furtherance of our principles, their sacrifice of them- selves was an egregious error. But now, how stands the case ? Christianity, " cribbed, cabined, confined " by the State, by a body of aristocracy — forced, as John Milton expresses it, " to grind in the prison- house of their sinister designs and practices" — degraded 10 THE MI8SI0K XVADED. into a tool with which to mend their fortones, and prolong their ascendancy — tricked out with meretricious ornaments that conceal or de^Eice her native loveliness — ^rendered hate- ful to the people by the tyranny and rapacity practised in her name — Christianity appeals to Dissenters, who profess to be better acquainted with her nature and her claims, to rescue her from this humiliating bondage, and persevere in generous, self-denying effort to deliver her out of the hands of men who are ignorant of her worth. Coldly have the Dissenters of this country listened to this appeal. The case, they confess, is a grievous one. They cannot shut their eyes to that. Every-day events force that upon their conviction. Would heaven put an end to the evil, they would be devoutly thankful, — supremely happy. But what are they to do? For them to meddle with the question would give serious offence. Besides, it is political. They prefer, therefore, to do good in their own quiet way — to let alone the disease which preys upon the very vitals of society, and busy themselves in attempts to cure a finger or a hand — ^to work out effects in detBil, and allow a State Church to destroy them by wholesale— in one word, to evade their high mission, and thrust into obscurity their great principles. Alas ! that good men should be scared from a service so honourable, by a silly taunt flung at them by crafty men who laugh among themselves at the effect it produces. Political ! Is there anything so criminal in being political, that sacred duties must be abandoned, rather than expose ourselves to the charge ? Is the Christian Church to be left weltering in corruption, because men cannot drag it forth without defiling their hands with politics % Is every law of religion to be for ever subverted by those who assume to be its only authorised guardians, until the evil can be remedied by other than civil agency % Is, then, the under- THS mssioir eyaded. 11 standing of Protestant Dissenters to be paralysed, and their spirits cowed, by an muneaning, worthless, ridiculous charge like this ? In very sooth, we blush for the folly of it. But Dissenters, it will be urged, are unjustly reproached with an indifference to, or a betrayal of, the great cause committed to their hands. They are heartily attached to it, although difference of opinion may exist as to the best mode of seeking its advancement. "Well 1 how do they show their attachment? What do they do? If they have not brought their power to bear upon the Legislature, from a settled con- viction that opinion is not ripe for such an effort, have they laboured to ripen opinion ? Are their children imbued with a knowledge of their principles, or duly impressed with a sense of their importance % Do their ministers usually make it any part of their duty to instruct their people on this subject ? Are they forward to countenance and encourage those who stand forth to promote the spread of Voluntary- ism? Do they not ordinarily stand aloof from all such efforts ? In strict candour, in open, day-light honesty — Have Dissenters fulfilled their mission, or done what they could? From our inmost soul we wish we could answer, "Yes." We cannot — they know full well we cannot. No ! degraded, insulted Christianity, has made her appeal to them in vain, and their posterity, if not themselves, will have to deplore the fatal mistake. Priestcraft is not inactive, if Dissenters are. They who brand consistent Nonconformists with the epithet, " political,*' are political enough themselves. They are " wise in their generation." They know what weapons to handle, and how to use them most effectively. They are gaining groimd upon passive Dissent. They have this advantage — they ore not ashamed of their principles. What then is to be done ? We answer at once, we must begin at home— must reform ourselves. With unfeigned 12 THE MISSION EVADSD. sorrow, not unmingled with sincere respect — ^with a hearty and thankful appreciation of the good they do, in other directions — ^with a full knowledge that many noble excep- tions must be made — ^not in bitterness, but in simple, earnest fiButhfulness, we are compelled to proclaim our con- viction, that the principal cause of our present weakness and humiliation, is the conduct, on this question, of DISSENT- ING MINISTERS. IV. THE EEMONSTEANCE. We solemnly arraign the body of Dissenting ministers in England at the bar of truth. The time for trifling has gone by. The Establishment, a life-destroying upas, deep- rooted in our soil, undisturbed, drinks up fresh vigour. It sprouts again. It puts forth fresh branches. It sheds its noxious seeds in our colonies. If there be evil in it, that evil is daily becoming confirmed, augmented, perpetuated. The curse is going down to our posterity, abroad to our emigrants, aggravated in its intensity. For our part, we are resolved to wash our hands of the guilt. In the name of myriads, victims of an impious pretence — ^when they lean upon it, fatally deluded, when they discern its hoUow- ness, rendered infidels for life — ^in the name of unborn generations, of the imtold millions that shall one day populate the distant dependencies of Britain — ^in the name of Christianity, misrepresented, disgraeed, downcast, trodden under foot, by aristocratic legislation, we charge the body of Dissenting ministers with unfaithfulness to sacred prin- ciples, evasion of a noble mission, and seeming recklessness of all the mighty interests at issue. A State Church ! Have they never pondered upon the practicaPmeaning of that word? Have they never looked into that dark, polluted inner chamber of which it is the door? Have they never caught a glimpse of the loathsome things 'that live, and crawl, and gender there? Did they 14 THE BEM0N8TBANCE. never hear of simony — light-hating simony, too hideous of form for the day to look upon — ^burrowing and nestling -within that same State Church? Has patronage never come across their path, to make them start and pause, and look at its disgusting features? Did no one instance, out of those daily occurring, of advertising the sale of nert presentations, ever happen to meet their eye? Or, to get away from details, has their thought never rested upon the fact that their own liberty to worship God as He has com- manded them, is graciously aUowed them, permitted as a necessary evil, an infraction of the rule which places the spiritual interests of a great and intelligent people in the hands of the Cardigans and Waterfords, the Palmerstons and Sibthorpes, the soldiers and the lawyers, the gamesters, duellists, and blacklegs of the Upper and Lower Houses of Parliament ? In the hjOQ of this monstrous absurdity and impiety, what have they done? We repeat the question with emphasis, " What ha/ve Dissenting ministers done ? " Had Paul — earnest, truthful, lion-hearted Paul, or Knox, or Luther, kindred souls — ^fSallen upon these days of time- serving and expediency, we can well unagiQe with what words of burning indignation they would have denounced the hoary imposture. To them the offence, whether of the half-instructed but well-meaning Dissenters, or of the rich and influential few who, having gained the outermost verge of aristocratical society, pocket their principles lest they should compromise their respectability , would have been as the chaff before the blast. We think we see these men offering their incense to lawn sleeves, and, in furtherance of great Christian objects, inviting the condescending pati'onage of the titled foes of Volimtary Christianity. They were men of right another stamp than that — these rough, yet withal, deep-souled Reformers. The bench, the senate, the throne itself, and this broad land from end THE JUSICOSrSTBANGS. 15 .to end, would have heard their stem protest, and quailed before their fearless rebuke. '^ Though it should rain Prince Georgesf,'' as Luther said, ''for nine days succos- aively," they would have uncloaked the system of money- ^thering which has dared to hide itself under the mantle of religion, and would have laid bare to the scorn and reprobation of the world its true character, its unmitigated deformity. K this matter concern not Dissenting ministers, whom should it concern? We had always supposed the pro- motion of the Church's welfere to be their peculiar duty. They are boimd to know, and consequently it may be supposed they do know, the blighting, withering effect of an Establishment upon religion. Kay ! they have not left this matter in doubt — for, when one of their number declared his solemn conviction that "the Church of Eng- land destroys more souls than it saves,'' they ratified the declaration with their approval. If opinion, therefore, is not ripe for demanding from our Legislature the cession for ever of its claims to manage Christianity, whose fault is that? The taunt hurled against the clergy, that Pro- testantism could not have been in danger, had they done their duty in imparting instruction to the people, may be hurled back with fearful violence upon Dissenting ministers. Flocks ignorant of the first principles of Dissent — disposed to regard them as things of little im- portance, not to be obstinately held at the sacrifice of a rich customer — upon whom does that reflect disgrace? Who has instructed them? Who has awakened their indignation, by faithfully laying open the festering evil? If they are ignorant and apathetic, who is answerable for that? We be^, however, on behalf of thousands, to question the extent of this ignorance, and express doubts as to the 16 THE BEMONSTRAKCEL reality of this seeming indifference. There is an under- current of earnestness on this subject which escapes the observation of the superficial The energies of Dissenters are not drawn ovJb — ^rather repressed. Were Dissenting ministers to sound the key-note, myriads of hearts would joyfully respond. The mass is only unenlightened, not un- willing to learn. 'Tis gold impedes our march. The leading men in our congregations, Churchmen too often in their sympathies, Dissenters only in their profession and connections — these are the men that stand between us and the sun. Had Dissenting ministers declared them- selves, and sworn upon the altar of truth and duty that they would never rest until the abomination was swept away, these would no doubt in crowds have gone over to the Church — ^the most fitting refuge for wealthy worldli- ness. The seeming loss, however, would have been real gain. The Dissenting body might have shrunk in dimen- sions, but it would have become sounder at heart. Its thews and sinews would have been only the more vigorous for having been relieved of redundant fat. The various pleas urged by Dissenting ministers in de- fence of their inactivity in this matter have not escaped our notice, nor is it our intention to pass them by without comment. We shall examine them hereafter. We have spoken out, and we mean to speak out. We respect truth more than any body of men, however deservedly respected. We believe that Dissenting ministers have swerved into dishonesty — ^we do w)t believe that dishonesty constitutes their character. There is rightness in them although they have got wrong. • Else would we not expose ourselves to the obloquy and reproach which we clearly foresee as the result of plain dealing. Their true power lies in being right. That they will be, and that at no distant THE BEMONSTRANCE. 17 period, we are as confident as that the globe turns upon its axle. Necessity is laid upon them. They must ere long be right or they will cease to he. They stand in relation to the Establishment precisely as the ministers in America stood, but a few years since, in relation to slavery. Faithful remonstrance must either rouse them to fearless action, or push them down into universal con- tempt. We have no misgivings as to the issue. THE PLEA EXAMINED. An admitted evil — an evil of frightful magnitude — an evil affecting, not the honour only, but the very vitality of -Christian truth — an evil which converts a living, beauteous, gentle, life-giving reality, into a dead, offen- sive, peace-destroying form — ^which commits a system of means, appointed to work out spiritual renovation, to the management and superintendence of men, the greater part of whom bitterly repudiate the very ends those means were designed to subserve — an evil which in all high senses, intellectual, moral, and spiritual, works like a pestilence, spreading abroad over the whole land, abomi- nation and desolation — ^not merely exists in our country, but flourishes, extends itself, and is taking hold upon our colonial dependencies. The body of Dissenting ministers, with numerous individual exceptions, we admit, make no direct effort to stay the plague, refuse to take the purifying censer into their own hands, and look coldly, nay, frowningly, upon any members of their own body who feel themselves bound in duty so to do. Such con- duct ought to be based upon reasons of unyielding solidity. "We propose to examine them. We promise we shall "Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice." Our simple desire is to see things as tliey are — ^not to look upon them through any distorting medium, whether THE PLEA EXAMINED. 19 of predilection or prejudice. On our part we ask no mercy — nor shall we hesitate to make any statement which we believe to be the truth. First in order, and certainly most potential in argu- ment, is the plea, that direct effort is not the best mode of curing the evil — at all events, not the most suitable for the adoption of Dissenting ministers. Their business is to promulgate Christian truth; and by confining them- selves singly and exclusively to this main end of their office, they are slowly but certainly sapping the founda- tions of a citadel which no direct efforts can batter down. Cheerfully, and with our whole heart, we offer our tribute of respect and admiration to the zeal, the energy, the perseverance, the success, with which their labours in this direction are performed. We not only admit, but we are proud to proclaim our conviction, that the body of Dissenting ministers is about the most valuable, the most useful, which our country can boast of — for the most part, good men, able expositors of Scripture, attentive pastors, true philanthropists. Scantily paid, they are content with frugal fare, and strive by self-denial, not only to "owe no man anything," but out of theii* narrow incomes to set their flocks an example of libe- rality. No body of men, despite all the charges brought against them of sectarianism, more habitually exercise Christian charity. No men more cordially rejoice when good is done, by the instrumentality of any sect. What- ever there is in this kingdom of active benevolence, of high-toned morality, of Christian virtue, is mainly to be traced to their unostentatious labours. We have no end to answer in offering them this sincere token of our respect. We would not stoop to flatter them. We are not about to retract one iota of the charge we brought against them. We speak thus because thus we think and believe. 20 THS PLEA EZAMIKED. With this admission, we record our deliberate convic- tion that the apology above adverted to, for silence and inactivity in reference to the crying evil of Church and State alliance, is unsatisfactory — not good in reason — not borne out by experience — not sanctioned by the highest examples. Here is a Divinely-appointed system of means, intended to -work out an end of paramount importanca Our legis- lators, usually men who care nothing about the end, claim idle exclusive right to order and regulate the employment ef those means — ^pervert them into a piece of madiin®cy to further their own political or pecuniary advantage — but, constrained by the spirit of the age, tolercOe the use of the same means by Dissenters. The evil is, their assumption of power which does not belong to them, and their use of it, for selfish, worldly purposes, to the serious impediment of Yoluntary religion. Such an evil is not to be met by the more honest and truthful em- ployment of the same set of means by other men. The absurdity and impiety of a State Church is not a whit more clear to common apprehension after we have made men Christians than it was before, imless, indeed, such men feel themselves bound, which ordinarily they do not, thoroughly to investigate the merits of this particular question. Were the deadly error so directly antagonistic to the truths Dissenting ministers are labouring to disseminate, that the reception of such truths and the maintenance of such error could not by possibility co-exist, the reason iiss^ned would be strong, perhaps unanswerable. But this is not the case. Dissenting ministers adhering to their present plan, may do much good, but ages upon ages must elapse before the Church, on this system, will work itself clear of the secularity which now mixes up with and defiles it. THE PLEA EXAMINED. 21 The apology is not borne out by experience. A State Church is not in fa^t rendered less secure by the policy adopted by Dissenting ministers. The Voluntary principle is not in reality advanced by it. The adherence of Church- men to the nationality of the Church is not loosened by their hearty love of Christian truth — the dislike of Dis- senters to the union is not augmented by it. Why! Dissenting ministers have laboured, and laboured diligently, for upwards of a century on this system, and yet, at this day, the question generally is neither understood by their people nor greatly cared for; and were a poll taken of the whole Nonconforming community, not a fiftieth part <»f them would be found to know ^hat the separation of Church and State means. How absurd to pretend that theirs is the surest method of remedying the evil ! That it is not sanctioned by precedents of any worth must be admitted when we mention Paul in connection with Judaism, John with Gnosticism, Luther with Catho- licism, Bunyan, Owen, and others with Laudism and ulti^a- Churchism. All Church history to which men are wont to look with an ardent glow of exultation is against the con- venient but ill-chosen ground taken up on this question by Dissenting ministers. Again we call upon them to look into this matter. It has been neglected. Excuses have been urged without any serious examination of their validity — picked up hastily — employed somewhat pettishly — scarcely ever thought upon after they had answered their end. Their present position has not been taken up by ministers after anxious and im- partial discussion. They have sHdden into it from inatten- tion to, and distaste for, the whole question at issue. They have committed themselves very much to the principles of expediency, and just now they feel it to be inexpedient to bind themselves to a great principle. They have not deli- 22 THE PLEA EXAMINED. berately gone wrong — they have not gone wrong from a mistaken but conscientious conviction that they were going right. They have gone wrong, chiefly, for want of sincere thought at all about the matter. VI. DUTY AND THE MEANS TO ITS PERFORMANCE. An image carved with marvellous cumiing, tricked out in solemn vestments, a part woven by human fancy, a part stolen from the chest of truth — an image, we repeat, an outside semblance, a counterfeit of life, not God-created, but made by the hands of man, empty, without heart, destitute of any well-spring of vitality — has been placed by aristocratic legislation in the throne of Christianity. The living, simple, beauteous truth, the rightful queen to whom all spiritual homage, of due, belongs — too sincere, too earnest, too unbending for the purposes of men in power, was long since deposed, thrust out, compelled to wander in. obscurity and to witness the fealty of her voluntary adherents treated as an offence against the good order of society. Great men — ^kings, nobles, bishops, stand round about the image their own sagacity has fashioned, bow to it and pay it court, proclaim it the only true Church of Christ, pass laws, professedly to maintain its state, and share the pro- ceeds among themselves. All men are bid to acknowledge it in humble thankfulness that they are permitted to hold any conversation at all with her whose throne is usurped by this creature of the State. Meanwhile, these great ones, under the sanction and on the behalf of their Church, per- petrate a thousand enormities, violate every maxim of religion^ degrade, insult, harass, imprison — regard nor 24 DUTY AND THE MEANS justice nor mercy in their pursuit of pelf, until half this nation, disgusted with the imposture and ignorant of the claims and worth of heavenly truth, declare that there is no such thing, that it is all a hollow pretence, and that Christianity itself is a mere scheme of priestcraft. Christianity! What kind of Christianity is our State Church upheld to subserve 1 An attention to rites for the performance of which fees may be exacted — heartless formality — a blind, imreasoning, ignorant, superstitious obedience to the priesthood — ^payment of tithes, and Easter- offerings, and church-rates — ^these are the great objects of our Establishment. The interest taken in it by our rulers is just an interest in property. What concern can the vast majority of them be supposed to feel for the spread of religion] The whole thing is a stupendous money-scheme, carried on \inder false pretences — a bundle of vested rights, stamped, for the greater security, with the sacred name of Christianity — an afifair of livings, and benefices, and baronial bishoprics to the aggregate amount of £5,000,000 a year. To shatter this image, and give the dust of it to the four winds of heaven — to re-conduct Christianity to her throne — to vindicate her rights — to restore her legitimate influence — is the sacred mission of Protestant Dissenting ministers. They are appointed by Providence to this great work — their principles open up to them this glorious career— ^they are equal to the mighty undertaking — ^the time i^ come for them to decide and to act. With earnest longings of heart, with trembling solicitude largely intermingled with hope, we wait — the country waits, to hear their determination. We entreat them by all that is good and great to come forward. Let them but say, " The work shall be done," and the doom of the Establishment is pronounced. For they know not their own power. They seem scarcely to be sensible of the vast things they can accomplish. They TO ITS PEBFORMANCE. 25 have the hearts of millions in their keeping — they enjoy the confidence of the great body of virtuous intelligence in this country. In one year they might change the whole aspect of this momentous question. The train is laid — ^the match is put into their hands — ^let them dauntlessly apply it, and the flame of enthusiasm they will kindle will astound even themselves. Such an opportimity is now before them as never man had. Luther himself might have coveted their position. The resources of which they can avail them- selves, the might they can wield, the object they are yet destined to effect, lay them under a tremendous weight of responsibility. They have only to snap the cords which a wealthy and a worldly few have bound around them, to rise up in their might and shake off all obstructions, and they will reassure the vast body of Dissenters, unite them in one firm, compact, irresistible phalanx^ call up the spirit of earlier days, and lead on religious liberty to its ultimate triumph. If there were one mode of appealing to them which we had reason to believe would be successful, that mode we would adopt. We have spoken roughly to them, not, however, in unkindness. The blow might be unwelcome — let them not regard it as the blow of an enemy. To see them manfully, and with religious determination, occupy the honourable post which Providence has assigned them, there is no sacrifice consistent with truth we would not gladly make. 'Tis no pleasure to us to wound — ^from our inmost souls we aver that we would much rather commend and cheer them forward. Our object is single. "We hesi- tate not to stake everything upon it— character, station, exiEttence itself. Our joy, our gratitude, our respect, our confidence would scarcely know a limit did we but hear them give the signal to march onward — march towards the actualisation of the Yoluntary principle. VII. THE GREAT ALTERNATIVE. "Onwaed! Onward!" All events, as in rapid suc- cession they pass by, speak to the patriotic and the good with increasing emphasis, " Onward — ^move on." It is the spring-time of mind. Winter, with its darkness and its desolation, is over. Society, for ages ice-bound, feels the influence of a general thaw. The sun of truth rises high above the mountain tops, and all things that love the light peep forth to welcome his genial beams. Through every pore of the nation the sap is rising. All interests that root themselves in justice bud and put forth promise of future fi^t. Nothing born of truth stands still. The seeds cast into the human heart midst many tears and much labour, by men of other times, begin at last to germinate, and, quickened into life, will push up through every incrus- tation which prejudice and pride may have formed above them, into air and light, their proper element. No class can stay for long the universal bursting forth of intel- lectual nature. The body that ministers no adequate nourishment to the growing mind of the people, will presently be pushed aside as useless. Onward! art, science, civilisation, morals, civil polity — all • are moving onward. If Dissent, or rather the Voluntary system of Christian faith and worship, seems to be an exception, it is but in appearance. Like our own hardy oak, the pride of Britain, it may be late in THE OAEAT ALTEBNATIYE. '27 Tegetation, but like it, too, it will be the last to fall "into the sere and yellow leaf." There is a vitality in it which defies extinction. We have no misgivings. Be the influence what it may — ^natural, or artificial and con- ventional — ^that checks its full development, it can have power only for a time, and that time, we rejoice to believe, is hasting to a close. Men talk of the amazing — ^the all but irresistible power of the aristocracy, as though it were a vain attempt to cope with that. These idle fears might be excused when night overshadowed the soul of this great nation. They are contemptible now, indicating strong prejudice or strange misconception. The power of the aristocracy! Let Dissenters dare to look it in the face, and it will cease to be frightful. There resides, may we not rather say there sleeps, within their own body a might which, fairly aroused and put forth, would shake aristocratic strong- holds down to their very foundations. This is no empty flourish. With their principles, with their numbers, with their resources, with their position in society, with their sobriety of habits, their capacity for organisation, their wide-spread intelligence, their religious zeal, the hardest conventionality, though it were adamantine, must give way before their well-directed strokes. The Establishment, be it borne in mind, is linked with the affections of a few, but those directly or re- motely interested in its wealth. Upon the great mass of the people it has no hold. The rapacity and the tyranny of the clergy have severed the feeble tie which bound them to the Church. The millions would hail separation as an act of justice towards themselves. The power of the aristocracy would find no fulcrum there. The middle classes, our tradesmen, manufacturers, mer- chants, and gentlemen of moderate property, may be 20 THE GREAT ALTEBKATIYE. equally divided between Churclimen and Dissenters. Of the Churchmen, few indeed are affectionately attached to the State Church. The greater part, by far, are only nominally of its communion. They rank among its mem- bers because it is the so-called religion of the country. They sometimes attend its services — ^they know little, and care less of its doctrines — ^they are well nigh indifferent as to its fate. Energy is not to be expected from them in support of the Establishment. They would show them- selves in its favour in the first brush, but they have not the heart for a persevering earnest struggle. Thinking men, however circumstances may render certain professions expedient, have long since settled the question, considered simply as a question of opinion. Priestcraffc, rampant of late as Puseyism, neither blinds their judg- ment nor charms their affections. Nineteen out of twenty will admit, in confidence, that the thing is a nuisance, the removal of which it is a desideratum peacefully to accomplish. The case, then, stands thus. Here are two millions of Dissenters in this country, even setting aside Scotland, where a powerful and well-trained band waits impatiently for action — two millions of England's most virtuous, most intelligent, most truth-loving inhabitants, whom our Dis- senting ministers, in one year, might array in determined opposition to Mammon in the garb of Christianity — ^men capable of understanding a principle when fairly stated, of loving it when understood, of working it out when truly loved. Here is a principle, the worth of which cannot be over-estimated — cognisable by every man of common sense — loveable and lovely to all virtuous and unprejudiced minds — identified with all that is charac- teristic of Christianity itself. By these men this principle is to be wielded against a great aristocratic imposture THE GBXAT ALTERNATIVE. 29 — a disgusting pretence, the hoUowness of which may be easily exposed — a fietlsehood cloaked in truth, which lervies fearful imposts, produces bitter dissensions, stands in tihe way of all national progress, engenders infidelity to a most alarming extent, misrepresents and dishonours trae religion. The sympathies of the masses are with them. In the middle ranks of society they have little to en- coimter but indifference, no deep-rooted, affectionate, ener- getic feeling which ages only of toil and conflict can subdue. Thinking men of all professions inwardly wish ihem success. What is the power of the aristocracy against this ? What their resources, should we once come to close quarters? Intimidation and oppression. But these are weapons which when employed most vigorously most signally faiL If Dissenting ministers hesitate to break ground against this enormity, we earnestly implore them to read the signs of the times, and ponder seriously the almost certain results of their indecision. The work will be done — no human power can prevent that. The hours of priestcraft in this country are numbered. A spirit of hostility to it is rising and spreading through all ranks which must ere long over- whelm it. There are elements at work in the bosom of society, of frightful virulence and force, which the most trivial and unexpected event may presently be the flash to ignite and explode. The Establishment will be de- stroyed by revolutionary and infidel fury, unless it be first peaceably put an end to by enlightened and religious men. Let not Dissenting ministers be deceived. The storm that is gathering, and which they alone can avert, will be indis- criminate in its ravages. Not the Establishment only, but Christianity, which in the minds of the many is identified with it, will be exposed to its pitiless violence. Let them look around them while there is yet time. 30 THE GREAT ALTERNATIVE. The vast body of working men, the physical power of the nation — ^is it not almost wholly possessed by infidelity? Mark, we say — mark the intense bitterness of their hatred against the priesthood as a class — ^hatred excited and in- flamed by the oppression practised upon them in the name of religion. Are Dissenting ministers prepared to with- stand its outburst ? Do they intend to await the coming storm ? Is it fair to religion — fair to the Church of Christ — ^that they should do so? By taking their stand now, they may imbue the minds of the labouring classes with the truth that Christianity is not oppression, does not sanction it — that, far from standing in the way of freedom, it gladly lends a hand to help it forward. They may open the people's eyes to the fact that a State Church is not to be confounded with the lovely emanation from the Divine Mind — the Gospel of Peace. They will, at all events, have done their part to rescue them from error. They will not gain the masses by inaction. No reverence towards the truth is like to be begotten in their hearts by the silence of Dissenting ministers on this matter. Priestcraft must fall. That truth is written in light. With them it remains to decide whether it shall fall by the hands of religion or of infidelity — ^whether they will ride and control, or perish in the storm. VIII. THE POWER OF VOLUNTAEY CHEISTIANITY. " England ! with all thy faults I love thee still." Yes ! our country takes a firm hold upon our affections — challenges and secures our honest and exulting admiration. The recluse, whose soul makes antiquity its home, and whose converse with the modem world is limited to its wants and its. annoyances, may boast, if he please, of Greece and Rome ; and, carefully shutting one eye to prevent distraction, and looking intently with the other through the telescope of time upon the far distant past, may aver, if he will, that the present age furnishes no parallel to ages long since gone by. Right the contrary is our judgment of the matter. With pride we look upon the wondrous embodiments, material, intellectual, and moral, of the human mind, with which our country is thickly studded. If in other days intellect built for itself more splendid shrines than now, and dwelt in a cloud of glory more effulgent — ^which we dispute — we look in vain into dusky antiquity for the more magnificent creations of the mbral man — the concretions (if we may so speak) of justice and benevolence — the bright and beauteous forms into which the social world is moulded by the plastic power of religion. These less showy but more noble developments of mind constitute the distinguishing glory of this country and of our age. We have just looked upon them in the loveliness of their efflorescence — ^for in May 32 THE POWER OP VOLUNTAEY CHBISTIAKITT. they blossom ; * and we step into another month, thankful that we are permitted to tread a aoil capable of producing after this sort. And yet, what are these? Of what new element of power are these the substantial type 1 Of what invisible but mighty principle are these the fruit, the practical result 1 What are these combinations of men to bless our earth, and make wealth minister to fhe elevation of mankind — ^these variously titled, variously efficient, but all-beneficent societies which are actively engaged in penetrating, in different directions, the dense jungle of the moral world, the growth of ages of neglect, the natural lair of every ravenous and' unclean thing, and which, with energetic enterprise and self-denying perseverance, are clearing a broad space for future civilisation, order, and religion — what e«e they all, but just the actings and the goings forth of the mistrusted, despised, ill-understood Voluntary principle? Where are the moral triumphs of coercion ? What things does it cast up from its inmost depths upon the shore of history, for after times to pick up and examine? Backs, thimibscrews, and bootikins — ^the sword and the faggot — squabbles for money — scrambles for place— a population escaping from brutal superstition, only to rush into the bosom of daring and profligate infidelity — these are the results and the trophies of coercion— K)f a State Church. What else could be looked for 1 How long will men doat upon the expectation that revealed truth, systematically converted by secular powers into an instrument to work out secular objects, should produce a blessing? How long will they spare a system which, whatever good there may be mixed up with it, is not only foreign to it, but is invariably spoiled by its association? which is * The reference was made to the May meetings which had just terminated. THE POWEB OF YOLUKTABT CHRISTIANITY. 33 powerful only for miscliief, and where it most triumplis, does most harm ? If the Voluntary principle — ^if Christianity working out its own sacred impulses, is less conspicuous in its triumphs at home than abroad — ^is less felt here, and teUs with greater force upon systems more corrupt, it is time, surely, to investigate the cause of that difference, and vigorously set about its removal. We respectfully request our Dissenting ministers to observe the honesty and freedom with which the principle is worked by missionaries among the heathen. It goes directly to its main object It comes unswervingly into collision with whatever stands between it and its great end. Every pretence which has been foisted by a crafty priesthood upon an ignorant people, it exposes without scruple. It labours to shake down existing systems to the dust. It levels against them wit, satire, persuasion, argu- ment It heeds not, in this matter, the decisions of the powers that be. It is not afraid of being taimted as political. Truth is its aim ; error is in its way ; and with a view to the one, it cannot afford to be delicate towards the other. A lie is called a lie, shown to be a lie, denoimced as a lie, and men are told to reject it or perish. But is the principle thus honestly and fiaithfully worked out at home 1 Let the facts of the case be noted. Chris- tianity in earnest, seeking, in obedience to its own benevo- lent yearnings, the spiritual welfare of our countrymen, finds its chief obstruction, not in them, but in its nationally authorised guardians and ministers, our aristocracy and clergy. The appointed exponents of a creed which prac- tically degrades the Gospel into an optia operatv/m, and has reached its purpose when it has induced attention to formal rites, in well-nigh every parish of the kingdom bristle up indignantly against all voluntary efforts of benevolence, and bring to bear upon their trembling and half-deluded 34r THE POWER OP VOLUNTARY CHRIjITUNrry.. parishioners, in prevention of success, all the worldly powers which an aristocracy can wield and which the poor are least able to resist Is there a Dissenting minister in London, or out of it, who has been happy enough, never to have come across a case like this ? Is not. this. beneficed network spread over the whole empire ? Are there not vested rights planted in every square mile of the country to nip and extinguislu Christianity in earnest? And this, overbearing, truth- obstructing system which calls itself the will of the Supreme — how is it dealt with ? Assaulted with bold heart and unshrinking fidelity, as in other lands T No ! not so 1 The semblance remains untouched to this day. The lie continuea unexposed. No hand has been put forth to pull down this barrier to usefulness ; and behind it, the working classes have been driven along a course conraxencing with supersti- tion and terminating with infidelity. That a serious and determined attempt to force thift barrier will be attended with much inconvenience, with an immediate desertion from our ranks, possibly with some loss of civil advantages, it^were vain to deny. But until, for the truth's sake, we are prepared to welcome sacrifice, we are unfitted for the work. We know not what Christianity is worth, if its emancipation be not worth all the suffering it may require from us. Equally ignoble and vain is the plea that time will accomplish the momentous change. Time will not accomplish it. Men wilL Men — either men of violence who know the truth only as distorted and disfigured by a State Church — or men of a hardier, more sincere, less calculating religion than that which we possess. But since the work must be done, and trials must be endured, why not now 1 why not by us ? IX. ABSTRACT PEIBTOIPLES. John Fosteb, one of those men whom Providence sends into the world about once in a century, to do the work of thinking for the age in which they live, to sift the particles of truth from the heap of rubbish with which they had for many generations been mixed up, and fuse them into a oonAistent whole, and give them universal currency — John Foster, in his essay, " On the Application of the Epithet Eomantic,'' makes the following admirable remarks : — " The weakest or most uncultivated mind may gratify its vanity, laaness, and malice, all at once, by a prompt application of vague condemnatory words, where a wise and liberal man would not feel himself warranted to pronounce without the mx)6t deliberate consideration, and where such consideration mighty perhaps, terminate in applause. Thus the most excellent performances, whether in the department of think- ing or of action, might be consigned to contempt, if there were no better judges, on the authority of those who could, not even- understand them. A man who wishes some decency and sense to prevail in the circulation of opinions^ will do well, when he hears these decisions of ignorant arrogance, to call for a precise explication of the manner in which the terms apply to the subject" "We recommend this sentence to the study of that little kjiot of men who characterise the separation of Church and State, as ^' a pure abstraction,'' and whose accommodating 36 ABSTRACT PRINCIPLES. consciences can allow them to take a liberal retaining fee in the service of religious freedom, and at the same time cast contempt upon Yoluntaryism as '^an abstract principle." In all ages there have been flies who blow on that which feeds them, and who succeed in making offensive what, until thej pitched upon it, was sound and wholesome ! An abstract principle ! Why, this is just an equivalent for the epithet "romantic," applied to truth instead of persons. It is used by the same class of men. It indicates the same feebleness and arrogance of mind in those who resort to it. It displays the same assumption of superior wisdom as a coverlet to the same indolence of thought. It is the readiest stone with which to hit every project which demands sincerity and earnestness of effort It renders reasoning unnecessary. It supplies the lack of wit. It may be properly entitled, " The art of demolishing truth made easy to the meanest capacity." It is just as available for the parrot and the starling as it is for men who have been endowed with intellect, and five times out of six would be just as correctly employed. We seldom hear it, but we conclude that the party tising it is desirous of concealing the scantiness of his furniture, and therefore cuts short all colloquy by slamming the door of his understanding in our &ce. We wish, however, to discriminate between the few who use this phrase to strangle inquiry and the much more con- siderable class who, having had it buzzed into their ears with untiring pertinacity, have at last come to confound it with the legitimate decisions of their own reason. The pre- ceding remarks are applicable and are intended to be applied only to the former. With the latter we are disposed to deal in a fistr different tone. If the separation of Church and State be " an abstract principle," what then is Christianity ? Is this dark world to ABSTRACT PRINCIPLES. 37 be r^nerated by a " pure abstraction " 1 When Carey left bis stall and went forth amidst the sneers of the philosophers of expediency to assail the towering structure of Brahminical superstition — ^when Williams, fired with a spirit of lofty enterprise, conceived the idea of visiting the remotest islands of the Pacific, and taming their rude inhabitants by " the foolishness of preaching " — ^when Luther deliberately resolved to snap the massive chains which bound his country to the foot of the Papal throne — ^when Paul set out for Athens, to level the simple truth of the Gospel at the mythology which gigantic intellects had built up and entrenched — were they in pursuit of an abstraction or a solid reality? Is there an3rthing so vague, anything so wild and visionary, anything so utterly impracticable, in replacing religion upon the pedestal upon which its Author first set it, that every serious attempt to effect the glorious work should be scouted without a moment's consideration, as a Quixotic enterprise in search of an "abstract principle"? If so, then farewell Chris- tianity ! We had thought it was a reality — ^but if this be true, it is nothing more than " a pure abstraction." It is not true ! No ! The application of the cant phrase in this direction is at once an aspersion on the character of the religion we profess and an insult to our understandings. The separation of Church and State is an object not only intelligible to men who will give themselves the trouble to think, but to men of honest hearts it is also practicable. That this is a work of difficulty we admit That its accom- plishment will require arduous labour, unshrinking self- sacrifice, indomitable resolution, great wisdom, and courage which only the love of truth can inspire, is sufficiently plain. But we have not yet learned to regard these qualities as extinct. We see them successfully engaged in coping with heathenism. It is the fortunate lot of the present genera- tion to behold them shaking down to the dust far stronger 38 ABSTRACT PBIXCIPLES. holds of error than this sanre State Churoh. Is our aris- tooracy omnipotent ? Have we not wrestled with them one throw, and measured their strength 1 And shall the men who can dare to assault delusion abroad, quail before a feebler type of it at home ? We beg our readers to look at the principle wrapped up in this imvarying use of the phrase in question. What does it mean? Nothing more nor less than this — that Voluntary Christianity is a good thing intrinsically, con- sidered apart from all circumstances, but a very silly thing to be constituted a rule of conduct — very fine to look at, but exceedingly foolish to attempt. Here is the old doctrine of expediency dressed up in a new suit. It is just another way of saying that men are to guage their duty by the line of probable success — ^that principles are given to amuse and not to govern us — that to see what is right argues a sound imderstanding ; to strive in sincerity of heart to do it, is the plainest evidence of a fond and feeble mind. Never until this pernicious doctrine is deposed from authority, as well as those who uphold it, can any great and lasting good be looked for. Far different was the faith of our Puritan forefathers. Results they left to Him who governs them. Right was their canon of pi-actice. What prospect had they of success? Their way was dark — danger flashed across their path — before them was nothing visible but sufferings, tears, and blood — ruin yawned at their very feet. What was all this to them ? Christianity bid them go forward — and forward they went through death to victory. Are we now to be instructed by men who cannot compre- hend the moral dignity of a great principle — who cannot appreciate the power of truth, that life is to be a series of shifts ; and conduct, like a bark at the mercy of every gust, to be guided by no helm and to keep its head to no port ? ABSTRACT PRINCIPLES. 39 Where will these sailers-before-the-wind, these weather- trimmers and breeze-catchers land us] Anywhere, we Buspect, but on what they term "an abstract principle" — anywhere but on trutL In justice to Dissenting ministers we must say, that so far as our observation has extended, they have not, in terms at least, stigmatised the separation question as "a pure abstraction." They may have objected to certain times or certain modes of working out the Yoluntary principle. But to hold it up to ridicule as " abstract " has not been their mistake. Had they done so they might as well at once have abjured their vocation. To preach truth and then to unpreach it — ^to bid men look at its beauty and then caution them not^to love it to excess — ^to exhort them to listen to its voice and whisper in their ear 'twere foolish to obey it — ^this they would have done had they professed Dissent and then branded the Yoluntary principle as "an abstract principle." They have been wiser and better men than this. THE HELMSMAN. "Port your helm," shouts the captain. "Port your helm it is," responds the man at the wheel, and round goes the ship. In moral and religious afiairs, we are but men at the wheel. Truth is our captain. 'Tis not for us to gaze distractedly upon the wild and ever-tossing main of circum- stances — ^to shift our course at sight of every crested billow — to consult the winds — to calculate chances — ^and, presuming on our superior skill, to take the vessel into our own hands. Happily this duty is not imposed upon us. Inextricable perplexity would else paralyse our efforts. We are not bound to foresee. We are not allowed to dispute. We are just to obey — ^nothing less, nothing more. Where our obedience may take us, is no proper concern of ours. We are not responsible for consequences — ^they belong to the Author of truth. If there be aught in Christianity which takes it out of the region of mere fable, anything true, anything divine, of one thing we may be sure, that whatever principle we find within the sacred enclosure, that principle is worthy of being trusted to the uttermost. It is no " abstraction." It is not there to be treated as a visionary — a wild, dreaming, fanciful thing, unsafe to listen to for practical guidance. It is there to command — ^there to be revered, loved, obeyed. To question its capabilities, argues great presumption con« joined with extreme littleness of mind. To imagine that THE HELMSMAK. ^ 41 on the whole we can do better, is a palpable proof that we are ignorant of ourselves. To be alarmed about conse- quences, is to pretend that we can foresee more clearly what is to follow, than He who gave us the principle for guidance. Though earth should be riven to its centre — we have no choice but to obey. Meanwhile we may very quietly leave earth in the keeping of a much wiser than ourselves. This is one of the great advantages of following out a true principle. One may always be calm and unmoved in view of that which is to come — is not tormented with self- reflection when the very worst does come. "We may always find our way — always know where we are— always be understood — and if we remain faithful, must eventually be triumphant Such a principle is Voluntaryism. Scoffed at by the high-priests of the Establishment — thrust aside without the smallest ceremony to give place to an axiom they have originated, which, if true, proves the Founder of the Christian system to have erred in laying down the consti- tution of His own kingdom, and for the permanence and stability of His Church, to'have been indebted to the kind and wise suggestions of many-titled Churchmen — taunted as plebeian by aristocratic statesmen, who take it for granted that gentlemen can only listen to the truth as it issues from the lips of gentlemen instructors, and that the nation is bound to furnish prizes to tempt that class of teachers into the office, which of all others they are least qualified to fill — ^misrepresented, vilified, branded as a pestilent heresy — the Voluntary principle yet traces its origin to heaven, and authenticates its commission by an appeal to the Scriptures. It is there as part and parcel of Christianity. The homage due to it is prompt, unhesitating obedience. If this be true, it furnishes a short answer to those who 42 THX HELHSMAK. fear that the direct abolition of an Establishment in an old country like ours, where things civil and sacred have inter- twined for ages, and modes of thought and habits of actiDg have accommodated themselves to existing institiitions, could not be attempted without endangering the peace of society, and would leave a vacuum in religious instructions, which the Voluntary principle would be found incompetent as yet to fill. All this is plausible enough. But then it would have been equally plausible, with ^slight change of terms, 1,800 yeai-s ago. What have they to do with the peace of society] "Where in the volume they profess to believe, do they find themselves charged with that responsibility 1 It is their business to obey, not to cavil. Is compulsory religion sanctioned by Christianity ? If not, put an end to it. Is the management of the Church by secular powers consonant with the genius of heaven-bom truth 1 If not, put an end to it. The evil deprecated may follow or it may not. You have nothing whatever to do with it. If you cannot trust your principle, give it up — ^give up the whole system with which it is identified — but in the name of all that's decent, don't acknowledge a captain and then wrangle with him, as to who shoidd have the conduct of the ship. "Port your helm." "Port your helm it is, sir." Oh! for a deep, unquestioning, tranquil, loving faith like this, in regard to the great question now at issue between the advocates of the Voluntary and compulsory principles — an eye fixed intently upon the eye of the commander that it might catch his slightest glance — an ear, deaf to the roar of coufiicting elements, and open only to the commands of truth — a heart beating only with intense anxiety to do exactly and at once, what we are bidden to do, leaving the safety of the ship in those hands to which it has been com- mitted — a foot planted firmly upon deck, and a hand upon THE HELMSMAN. 43 the wheel— and a voice ever ready to respond, "It is, sir," to the orders we receive ! Then if we go down, we go down at all events like men. This must be our spirit before we shall make way. And with this spirit nothing can hinder our progress. Our gallant vessel is tight and seaworthy — and her captain right competent to take her into port. The crew is at fault. Transports, that do not properly belong to her, are aboard — and go about whispering mutiny, and wishing truth were confined in chains, as being "abstract" and unfit to be trusted with the management of the ship. We shall never prosper until these men are sent down to their proper berths. "Well! what are we to do?" is the question we hear on all sides. Do! Why let Dissenters just do what principle bids them — act like men. They believe in the Voluntary principle as part of Christianity. They believe Establishments to be antagonistic to that principle. They believe consequently that they ought to be abolished. These are their orders. Are they prepared to obey— at all risks? Then let them do as men in other circumstances do — take steps to make themselves masters of the evil in all its bearings — to measure their work — then sit down and deliberately calculate their own means, and how they may be brought to bear most efficiently— and lastly set about working out their plan at once, and in earnest. " Where there is a will there is a way." Sincerity will either find instruments or make them. GROUP THE SECOND. POLITICAL VIEWS OP A STATE CHI7ECH. After a brief explanation of what is meant by a separation of Ohnrch and State, the political evUs resulting from the alliance are lightly sketched. The whole system is looked at as an engine admirably adapted to work out the purposes of the aristocracy. The Church Establishment is then viewed as it affects party feeling, war, monopoly, the throne, public political opinion, and education ; and the series concludes with an address to Liberal statesmen on the conduct they commonly adopt in reference to this question. A few controversial articles on Church property have been detached from this group, in which they originidly appeared, and will be found without alteration in the Appendix. SEPAEATION DEFINED. When we speak of a separation of Church and State, we speak of a result respecting which we find no difficulty in forming a distinct conception. Others may term it ''an abstraction '' — to our minds it presents itself as an eminently practical affidr. We think we know what we mean by the phrase — we shall try, moreover, to make our meaning clear to our readers. A State Church necessarily supposes the payment by the nation, of a body of ministers to instruct the entire people in the religion authorised by the rulers of the land. The separation of Church and State includes the resumption, for civil purposes, of all national fimds now set apart for the religious instruction of the people, the abolition of all privileges now connected with the profession of the authorised creed, and the repeal of all statutes, or portions of statutes, which empower the civil magistrate to wield his authorily in support of any religious opinions whatever. A remark or two in explanation of these general state- ments will place our meaning in a clearer light. We shall not be guilty of the absurdity of submitting in this place a detailed plan for effecting the object — but we may properly indicate two or three leading principles, which in our judgment any plan ought to includa A prominent idea involved in the separatiooi of Church and State, is the resumption by the latter, for civil purposes, 48 SEPARATION DEFINED. of all national funds at present appropriated to the former. We take it for granted that Church property is, in the fullest sense of the term, national property.* From the Eeformation downwards, Parliament has so dealt with it. The power that handed over in trust to the Anglican Church, her present temporalities, can surely resume them, whenever it is believed that their present application is detrimental to the best interests of the empire. We are no advocates, however, for spoliation. Public good is never in the long run promoted by private injustice. Rights have grown up under the present system which must be respected — ^vested interests, which, whatever fiace of absurdity or even impiety they present to us, must not be disturbed without equitable compensation. The Establish- ment is a national institution — it is not a thing connived at simply, or tacitly sanctioned, as was slavery— it was created and it is at present upheld by law. Every legal right, therefore, which under this system has become property, has, upon its abolition, a reasonable claim upon the State for a fiedr equivalent. The appropriation of Church temporalities to civil pur- poses may be effected without real injury to any parties. The rights of present incumbents would of course remain undisturbed, and it will not be pretended that a clergytnan is injured because he will have no successor to his living. Our view of the separation of Church and State does not imply the necessity of a sudden and violent change. The full realisation of it would run over the term of at least one generation. Funds would be withdrawn from the Church only as incumbents die off, thus leaving time and opportunity for the Voluntary principle gradually to occupy the ground so vacated. The right of presentation is undoubtedly recognised as * See Appendix. SEPARATION DEFINED. 49 property. Originating probably in natural and even laudable causes, it is now simply an instrument of tlie worst species of power in the hands of the aristocracy. But to extinguish it without compensating the possessors of it would, in our judgment, be reaching a public benefit through the medium of a private wrong. The right is now frequently transferred from one hand to the other on well-understood terms. It has, in short, an average market price— and to such sum, in every case, we think the present holders of it, in the event of separation, would be equitably entitled. Considerable property belongs of right to the Episco- palian sect as a distinct religious body. Endowments have been made, and property bequeathed, for the espe- cial object of promulgating the doctrines of the Book of Common Prayer. Separation, as we understand it, would not affect the application of these funds. We notice these instances only for the purpose of indicating a general principle. The object we aim at involves the destruction of no property whatever. It only detaches it from the Church. Wherever rights are interfered with, it awards' compensation. The clergy would not be injured — the patrons would receive an equivalent for what they lost— and ihe State, even in a pecuniary point of view, would be greatly relieved. This, then, is what we mean by a resumption for civil purposes of ecclesiastical funds. Satisfy all just claims which individuals, or even the sect, as such, have upon these temporalities — and let the surplus be devoted, in such a way as Parliament may deem most fitting, to the legitimate objects of civil government. The other general ideas involved in the separation of Church and State, scarcely need explanation. The abo- lition of all temporal privileges now connected with the 00 8EPABATI0N DEFINED. profession of the authorised creed implies, also, the con- Terse — the extinction of all disabilities affecting those who refuse to conform to a national faith. It would put an end to episcopal baronies and dismiss to exclusive spiritual duties the titled Churchmen whose presence in the Upper House seems to have answered no earthly purpose but to keep alive bigotry and embitter strife. Such, in general terms, is what we have in view, when luging the importance of separating the Church from the State. We say it is an object worthy of a determined and protracted struggle. To prove this assertion will now be the main goal of our effi)rt& The pi*esent ecclesiastical Hystem is a thorn in the sides of the State— rankling, festering, impeding all free movement. It is a wen upon the otherwise vigorous frame of Christianity, diverting into aa unnatural and unsightly excrescence the vital fluids which would else impart bloom to the countenance, strength to the muscle, and vivacity to the spirit of the Church of Christ. The State would be no less benefited by separation than the Church — ^the Church would be equally a gainer with the State. Their union is an ill-assorted one — ^they were joined together in defiance of reason and religion. A perpetual divorce would be a happy arrangement for both. And now, with the reader's permission, at the risk of exposing ourselves to the charge of iteration and prolixity, we venture, before entering upon a detailed examination of the evils entailed upon the country by the State Church, to call the attention of our readers to some of the prominent characteristics of this general plan for effecting a separation. Many considerations press upon us the propriety of this course. In pursuing the great object to which we have especially devoted ourselves, we have to encounter not only the misrepresentations of the interested, but the fears SEPABATION DEFINED. 51 of the timid. We axe anxious to secnre ourselves against mistake. We wish it to be distinctly understood what it is "we are ** driving at." Firmly convinced that distaste for the whole question, if it does not originate in, is at all events aggravated by, the notion that it is a dreamy abstraction, we think we cannot better prepare the way for any future efforts we may deem it our duty to make than to prove that the end we have in view is intel- ligible, practical, and, in every point of view, immensely important. The resumption, for civil purposes, of all funds now devoted by the State to the maintenance of the Church — the abolition of all privileges connected with the pro- fession of the authorised creed — and the repeal of all statutes empowering the magistrate to interpose his aid in religious a£[airs, is what we mean by the separation of Church and State. In dealing with Church property, we have given it as our opinion that the rights of present incumbents, the vested interests of patrons, and the Mr claims of the Episcopalian sect, ought to be respected. We beg to remark, then, that the separation of Church and State, thus understood, is not a wild, impracticable acheme. That many men will call it so, we can readily believe. But this is not at all uncommon. The repeal of the Com Laws was not long since denounced by one in high authority as nothing better than madness; and yet he has seen good reason for proposing what he then de- nounced. Every great political change has been so branded in the earlier stages of its history. Thus men were wont to speak of Catholic emancipation — thus they designated Parliamentary Reform — thus they laboured to throw con- tempt upon the abolition of slavery; and yet all these measures have been realised. Why, then, is the separation of Church and State to be regarded as a question in 52 SEPABATIOK DEFINED. nnhilms? Does it involve anything, in the nature of things impossible? Is there aught belonging to it, as we have explained it, which lifts it right out of the reach of mortal effort ) Admitting the object to be a desirable one, why should it not be soberly pursued, as well as the extinction of church-rates, or the destruction of ecclesiastical courts? Why must those who seriously devote themselves to it be set down as moon-stricken fetnatics? They have before them a well-defined end — they are in possession of a good apparatus of means. Opinion is largely with them, and only needs to be quickened into feeling — feeling will settle down into de- termination, and determination will embody itself in action. "We must be allowed to observe, further, that the diifi- culties to be encountered in working out this principle are just of the same kind as, and very little, if any, greater than, the difficulties which have been surmounted over and over again. There is nothing in the thing itself which interposes an insuperable obstacle. Doubtless the adjust- ment of details would require great wisdom combined with caution; but surely wisdom equal to the task may be found. The real "lion in the way" is the aristocracy. The State Church is peculiarly theirs — a convenient and pleasant pasture-ground upon which younger sons and dependent relatives may feed in quiet — a luxuriant prairie, offering abundance to those who would else be supernu- meraries on the estate. But then we see no reason why men who dare to attack high rents should tremble at the bare prospect of attacking tithes. In the latter case they would not stir up more indignant opposition than in the former. In both they wrestle with the same antagonist. Let it be noted, moreover, that the separation of Church and State inflicts no individual injustice, destroys no vested interests. For all that it takes away it renders back a feir 8EPABATI0N DEFINED. 53 equivalent. It gives an average market price for every right which it destroys. It despoils none ; it extinguishes no property. On the contrary, such property as it deals "with it places upon a firmer basis. The temper of the times, the deep-rooted alienation from the National Church evinced by the working classes, the progress of Dissent, and the infatuated arrogance of the clergy, strike at the security of ecclesiastical possessions. What the nation has given in trust, the nation may be disposed ere long to resume ; and but a little time will elapse, we presume to think, after the question is once resolutely taken up, before many of the aristocratic body would be too happy to see any plan carried into effect which would award them fstir compensation for the threatened rights they hold. Lastly, the settlement would be a final one. Unlike other measures of reform, it leaves nothing of the same kind to be effected by succeeding generations. It is to be done once for all. It clears away a thousand dij0&culties — it^solves innumerable perplexities. Legislation would flow on smoothly, this questio vexata having been removed. There is a completeness about the object which might well commend it to our energetic pursuit. Aiming at this, we occupy a position argumentatively strong. We place ourselves under the guidance of a great principle. We lift the subject out of the region of mere selfishness. We enlist the sympathies of far-seeing statesmen ; we unite withj them the energies of enlightened Christians. How- ever few we may be, we are no longer contemptible. We handle a fearful weapon — ^truth. We cannot be convicted of inconsistencies ; we cannot be driven into comers. We stand upon unassailable ground; and, by our readiness to satisfy every individual claim, we afford a demonstration of being actuated by patriotic motives. We trust, then, we have explained the object we have in 54 SEPABATION DEFINED. view beyond the possibility of any but wilful misapprehen* sion. The thing to be dealt with is a particular species of property; and as such it must be regarded. To mystify the subject by language implying that we have to do with a Church (meaning by the term a congregation of faithful men) would be absurd. Five-sixths of the money pocketed by the clergy are as far removed from any connection with the religious instruction of the people as landlords' rents, or Queen's taxes. The working clergy — ^the curates, who would fare much better, and escape a wretched bondage, under the Voluntary system — ^these are the men who do the work, such as it is. And they would do it were the com- pidsory system extinguished to-morrow — ^those of them, we mean, who love the work to which they are set apart. No I we are not dealing with a Church, but with an aristocratic 'self-elect corporation, possessed of vast wealth and special privileges — ^a monopoly, which is more baneful than any under which the coimtry groans. Abolish it, we say; but let no member of it suffer. Relieve Christianity from the . reproach of being subject to the management of a secular aristocracy. Let them claim what they will; but suffer them no longer to be lords in the Church of Jesus Christ. II. THE CHUECH AND THE AEISTOCRACY. That the State Church in this country is maintained foi* political rather than spiritual purposes, the strong attach- ment to it, cherished and evinced by the aristocratic section of society, might be taken as sufficient argument. Of Christianity apart from an Establishment — of that systeni of truth which enforces self-government, love to men, and piety to God, simplicity itself will not suspect them, as a class, of being much enamoured. Religion they eschew, whilst, without exception, they are devoted advocates of th(^ Church. They are wise in their generation. Not less necessary is the Establishment to them than they to tho Establishment. For the perpetuation of their exclusiv<* power, their class privileges, their multiform monopolies, n more efficient engine than the State Church, wit of man could not devise. It constitutes the solid buttress of aris- tocratic influence. Whether the maintenance of a privileged order in the State be or be not conducive to the well-being of the country, or whether, granting that it were, Christianity may be legitimately converted into an instrument for working out the design, are points we have no intention, in this place, to attempt to settle. Our present object is simply to exhibit the Church as a piece of political machinery, plied by the aristocracy for their selfish pur- poses — ^to point out its exquisite adaptation to answer this 56 THE CHUBCH AND THE ABISTOCBACT. its primary end — ^that our readers may understand what it is really upheld to effect, and how completely it realises the intention. An exclusive class — a class lifted far above the great bulk of society — claiming a right to all political power, and making the various interests of the many subservient to their own — could not, it is evident, long maintain its stand- ing in this country without possessing a firm hold upon every grade of society beneath it. This the State Church enables the aristocracy to secure. It is to them an exten- sively ramified system of nerves distributed over the whole body politic, by which their volitions may be communicated to the various muscles. Through it they can make their influence felt with the utmost ease at the very extremities of the social system. They have but to will, and instantly there is put in motion an apparatus which brings that will to bear upon all orders throughout the empire. We examine the structure of a machine — ^we see the relation of part to part — ^we observe how aptly certain con- trivances secure certain movements — and how the combina- tion of the whole uniformly produces one great result — ^and we pronounce without hesitation upon the design of the machine. If, then, we find every arrangement in a State Church ni-adapted to answer a spiritual purpose, but fitted with special nicety to maintain the ascendancy of a party — if, in poiQt of fact, it impedes rather than promotes religion, and is found invariably prompt to advance the interests of the aristocracy, be those interests based on right or on injustice — ^what reason is there for dealing with it as a sacred institution, instead of treating it, as in truth it is, as a political engine having for its object the perpetuation of exclusive privilege and power ? Upwards of five millions sterling per annum divided into about eleven thousand unequal portions, a considerable THE CHUSCH AND THE ABI8T0CRACT. 57 number of them so small as barely to provide subsistence, whilst others are so large as to furnish a suitable income to younger sons, and dependent relations of noble families — the duties attaching to the enjoyment of which sxmis, in all the last-mentioned cases, are performed by curates for a miserable stipend, whilst they who pocket the fees indulge in every gentlemanly recreation — the distribution of which is committed, chiefly, to the care of landed proprietors, and is r^ulated without the smallest reference to the religious qualifications of the parties receiving them — may constitute a very efficient arrangement for promoting aristocratic ends, but how it is adapted to serve Christianity, requires more ingenuity than we possess to discover. As a system for pensioning off supernumerary members of lordly houses, it may be considered perfect— as a means of supporting reli- gion, it is destitute of even the semblance of fitness. This, however, is the smallest part of the advantage secured to the aristocracy, the smallest part of the injury inflicted upon the country by our State Church. It gives to the exclusives, not pelf merely, but power. It is not simply a monopoly in itself, it is the shield of all other monopolies. Fifteen thousand clergy trained in the most exclusive spirit at universities where subserviency to rank is not only taught but practised — receiving, each his appointment to a living, fix)m the hands of a landowning patron, or what is much to the same purpose, from those of a bishop or the Crown — looking to the same source for future preferment — dependent, for intercourse with aristocratic society, upon the good will of the neighbouring squire— sympathising with all the sectional feelings of the order, as being themselves members of a privileged class — wielding, to appearance, the dreadful sanctions of religion — almoners, usually, of paro- chial funds and the great man's bounty— conduits through which may flow to bowing tradesmen the custom of the 58 THE CHUBGH AND THE ABI8I0GBACY. rich — haying access to every honse, able to assume an air of anthority, and, in virtue of their office, to work upon religious fears and affections— fifteen thousand clergy thuB dependent on the one hand, and powerful on the other — to the aristocracy pledged servants, to their own flocks supreme dictators — stationed at convenient intervals over the length and breadth of the land, and thus coming in contact with society at all points — could mechanism more fiatal to religion, or more serviceable to the interests of the upper class, be framed and put together] All the movements of this tremendous engine are under the complete control of the class for whose advantage it exists. The appoiutment of bishops, to whom is entrusted the superintendence of this well-organised corpSy who dis- pense no small portion of its patronage, and whose requests, in consequence, have all the force of law, is vested in the Crown, that is, in the Ministry for the time being. That they are selected for their spiritual aptitude for the office, none will pretend. Their elevation is in most instances owing to their connection with, or their former subserviency to, the aristocracy. They thereupon become members of "the order." They breathe exclusive atmosphere. They are thoroughly imbued with the aristocratic spirit Is any inroad upon sectional privileges threatened? — they have but to nod the head, to give the well-understood sign, and on the instant, tenants, tradesmen, parish officers, paupers, small gentlemen who occasionally dine at the squire's, matrons who tremble for religion, and young ladies who are looking up to respectable connections, send forth a cry of disappro- bation, and send up a shoal of petitions, at which the boldest statesman may be excused for standing appalled. The intimate dependency of the one class upon the other is sufficiently illustrated by daily facts. If any one instance can be pointed out in which the clergy and the aristocracy THE CHUBCH AND THE ARISTOCRACY. 59 baye taken different sides, we would be content to give up the whole argument. But in truth it cannot be. The hands must obey the mandates of the head. We beg our readers to look at this State Church, first as a means of religious instruction, and afterwards as an instru- ment of political power. In the former case all is per- plexed, anomalous, suicidal — in the latter everything is well arranged, easily managed, certain of accomplishing the end. It is upheld by the aristocracy — it is subservient to their designs — it shields and secures their interests. It is a political organ brought to bear against the libei-ties of the people. It is no more a sacred institution than the House of Lords. Whatever religion is mixed up with it is there by accident, is frowned on as intrusive, is not only not necessary to the system, but, in so far as it is consistent, is antagonistic to it. It is, as we say, a political organ — and for the public it is a bad one — useless for good, but powerful for evil. It desecrates religion —it obstructs popular freedom — it per- plexes every question of civil government — it is a confirmed rheumatism to the State, contracting its tendons, crippling its limbs, enfeebling its constitution, and threatening, at no distant period, a painful death. It becomes every lover of his country, as well as every Christian, to denounce it. No man can be regarded as a soimd-hearted patriot who advo- cates the maintenance of a State Church. III. THE NATIONAL DRAG-CHAIN. A DOMINANT clergy chained to an authorised creed consti- tutes about as effectual a bar to national progress as it is possible to imagine. "Were society stationary, or had it reached perfection, it might be wise to raise up and support a large and influential body of men deeply interested in maintaining " things as they are," in perpetuating existing institutions, and resisting all change. Those who imagine that we have arrived at the 9ie plus vltra of good govern- ment, may well advocate an ecclesiastical corps. This is not our notion of things — ^we have no idea of having yet reached the maturity of national greatness. No ! Intelligence will go on expanding. New powers will be perpetually in the course of development. New wants will be engendered. Better principles for the regulation of social bodies will be discovered and embraced. The mind of the nation will grow. There will, there must be a steady move- ment onward — fresh lessons gathered from experience — more enlarged views gained by occupying more favourable positions for observation — profounder acquaintance with the mysteries of nature followed by vast and unimaginable accessions of power. We hold, then, that to band together, for whatever ostensible purpose, a numerous body of men — ^men who of necessity are inimical to all reform, abettors of every abuse, united, organised, and therefore formidable opponents of THE NATIONAL DBAG-CHAIN. 61 progressive improvement — ^to give them vast influence for the management of which they are not held responsible by the State, and so to dispose of and arrange them as to enable them to enclose in the meshes of their power the whole population — ^is a terrible mistake, an awful blunder, an egregioiis specimen of political absurdity. As well might the stripling, rising into manhood, be still under the autho- rity of the pedagogue, and be compelled to wear, amid the laughter of all his companions, his schoolboy jacket and outgrown corduroys, lest the master's salary should be endangered. Are we always, we ask, to be kept in the dunce's class, lest we should become too knowing to remain at school and pay our weekly fees ? Is it altogether neces- sary to encourage and foster a party in the State, whose welfiare can only be promoted by obstructing general improvement, crippling intelligence, stunting the national mind, and keeping people fools in order that they may be slaves? That such is the effect of the Establishment we have too sufficient evidence. The clergy can no more advance with the nation in its career of improvement than if the fates had iixed them where they are. In what age of the world have men been known voluntarily to descend from a station of superiority, to sacrifice influence, to give up power, to lay down emoluments for the public good 1 It cannot be expected. The system which makes the clergy what they are, however ill-adapted to answer its professed ends, will of course be nevertheless most zealously upheld. Its abuses will be pertinaciously defended ; its errors will be obstinately maintained. Light, which would expose their pretensions, come from what quarter it may, will be carefully obstructed. Every effort to make people thoughtful, vigilant of their own interests, self-confiding and independent, will be regarded as a covert attack upon their privileges. Every change which 62 THE NATIONAL DBAiGhGHAIK. may by possibility modify or destroy their exclusiyen«8s, Tudll be vigorously opposed. The Church caimot move forward, aad so the nation must stand stilL We blame not the men. They are only what their system makes them. The larger portion of them are probably under the influence of the same spell which they would fix upon others. Their judgment is blinded by their interests. They have a beam in their eye, and cannot be expected to see clearly. But what political folly is it to place and keep men in a position which makes them of necessity the natural enemies of all improvement, the pen- sioned opponents of all beneficial change ! The history of this country affords perhaps the strongest argument which can be employed in proof of the evils which the commonwealth suffers from an Establishment. What a stiidy does it present us of clerical selfishness, ambition, intoleraace, and hypocrisy ! What deeds of darkness have been too foul, what malignant attacks upon the rights of man have been too infernal, to be perpetrated by eccle- siastics in the name of Christianity ? In what page of our national records are we to look for the disinterestedness, the liberality, or the gentleness of the clergy] When do we find them struggling with the people for freedom and inde- pendence, or displaying that magnanimity which would prefer their country's welfare to the preservation of their own paltry emoluments ? We boldly answer, " Never 1 " No ! They have been invariably the deadliest foes of liberty, civil and religious. Despotism and tjrranny always found in them the ready tools to enslave the people. Their talents and their sacred calling were sure to be prostituted at the beck of the most infamous courts, in preaching up the Divine right of kings, and in enforcing the duties of passive obedience and non-resistance. They may claim the honour of having wreaked a spite peculiar to an incensed priesthood, upon such of their countrymen as dared to think inde- THE KATIQIIAL BRAChCHAIN. 53 pendently or dared not play the hypocrite, by subscribing to dogmas which they did not believe. Aye ! ear-cropping, nos&fllitting, thumb-screwing, maiming, disfiguring, burning — ^theae are the historical honours of the clergy — ^these the fine results of a religious Establishment ! Their hatred of improvement, their scorching intolerance, remain just what they were, modified only by the spirit of the age. They protested against the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts. They raised a yell of horror at the Ikroi^)ect of Catholic emancipation, so dismal and foreboding, that a poor, deluded, and ignorant peasantry trembled in hourly expectation of blood, and fire, and smoke. The edu- cation of the people owes nothing to them. They checked it as long as decency would permit, and when nothing could effectually stay its progress, they advertised and puffed of an article of their own, steeped in the bigotry of their religious systenu At the present moment, we shall find them, almost without exception, ranged as the bitterest foes of cheap food and free trade. The body has been a political curse. They have uniformly stood in the way of their country's improve- ment. They have taken active part against the people in every great political struggle from the Reformation down- wards. They have on all such occasions allied themselves with the tyrant, unless perchance their own temporalities or exclusive privileges were threatened. We charge all this upon the Established clergy, and we confidently appeal to history in support of our charge. We admit, with all cheerfulness, that the charge we have preferred against the clergy of the Church of England, Implies with equal force against the clergy of every Estab- lished Church, in all times, and in every country. In Scot- land, the Presbyterians ; in Germany, the Lutherans ; in England, previous to the Reformation, the Roman Catholics ; in the American States, whatever sect happened to be in alliance with the civil power, have manifewted the same in- 64 THE NATIONAL DBAG-CHAIN. tolerance, have presented the same obstruction to national progress, have sympathised with oppression, and opposed the freedom and independence of the human mind. We blame not the men but the system. The position in which an Establishment places the clergy whom it patronises, no matter what their creed, is both anomalous and false, destructive of their religion, and propitious only for the development of the worst of passions of human nature. "We admit further, and that with no reluctance, that there are amongst the clergy of the Established Church of England many very good men — ^men of sound learning, of liberal principles, of eminent piety ; men whose motives are pure, whose devotedness to the cause of true religion is exemplary ; men who would be ornaments to any denomination, useful in any sphere, respected by any party, stedfiist amidst every change; laborious ministers, Christian gentlemen, true patriots, zealous philanthropists. We hail them with acclamation. We admire, we honour, we love them. But that must be a charity which " believeth all things " with a vengeance, which is not compelled to confess that such men are exceptions — splendid, but too few; "rari narUes in gurgite vasto.^* They serve rather to illustrate than to dis- pi'ove the rule. Their light only renders the surrounding darkness more palpable. We call upon Churchmen, then, to look the charge steadily in the face. It is unmanly to blink it. Let them disprove it by historical evidence, and they will do more to elevate the clergy in popular estimation, than they will ever do by the most fulsome panegyrics. By this means they will pro- duce a deeper impression upon the minds of Dissenters, than by fifty years of the most scurrilous abuse. The charge is either true or false. If false, let its falsehood be thoroughly exposed. If true, the interests of all parties demand that it should receive the greatest deliberation. IV. GALL IN THE POLITICAL WORLD. A National Church embitters the waters of political strife -^inflames rather than soothes diflference of opinion — ^and adds difficulty to the settlement of every great question affectin'g the temporal welfare of the country. Difference of opinion on all the important topics of legislation is, of course, unavoidable j but then it is quite compatible with social harmony. There can be no valid reason why discordant judgments should necessarily be accompanied by angry and malevolent passions. If, indeed, the deep interest taken by men in the success of their political principles compels them to resent all opposition to them — if party spirit must be en- gendered, and '' offences '' of this character must needs come, sorely it is the part of a wise legislature to mitigate the evil to the full extent of its power, but especially to guard against banning into fierceness the fire which smoulders in the bosom of the community. But what is the state of things in this kingdom ? Civil and religious affairs are so blended, so interwoven by an Establishment, that it would appear impossible to touch upon any subject connected with the public interests, however apparently remote, without hurting some tender part of our mother Church. Every question is, on her accoimt, made a religious one. Into the discussion of every leading topic of civil policy she infuses the acrid and cauterising ingredient of ecclesiastical intolerance. The Church, which shoidd be F tB GALL IN THE POUTIGAL WORLD. an emollient to allay the irritation produced by difference of ^opinion, becomes, when allied with the State, a blister to in- «crea8e inflammation. Measures, accordingly, are not viewed an reference to their own intrinsic merits, but in reference to (their probable bearing on the Establishment. Our senators ^are in perpetual danger of committing sacrilege. If they ;8hoidd attempt to wash away the corruption which cleaves about most of the iostitutions of our land, by turning into them the stream of public opinion, ten to one but they find ^^mseliees convicted, of infidelity. Their votea upon a turn- pike^act may unexpectedly sulioect them to the charge of atheism. Electoral bodies aro oaiivafl3ed inr the: name Kii holf iaxtiik, and are admonished, by their love- of Grod|,to jmppopt this or that line of politieal. sentiment.. Indeedfi so .glaring' has this evil becomoy that,. poUiios aare made the tes;^ of religious charactar; and the wretoh.who ia wheeled up- to ike poll in a state c£. beastly .intgyjoation^ iB.fmiin&iAl^o?.:a pilllKrof the CShmd^ aceoxdingiaathetniay happen tQ ^¥e;hi9 :vote^ Mutual goodnwiH^ cordial intcgnccmi^ey ai^d event intimate friendship betipeen. parbi«a> difilering in their religioua sea»ti- .^nents^ are not uncommon amongat Dissenters. But between Disasters and Churohmoa they are rare indeed. The 'phenomenon, however, much aa it i3t0.be diep)aFed,,ia;easily explained. The State, by patromavog. a .partiiaular;;S^i producesi as might reasonably be ,expe<^ted, in the one party arroganee^ in all others diaocmtenti In the one case pride ,i& festwed; in the other a senaecof injustice^ and a c(Hi8oiou3*- ness of degradation. The result ia personal hostility, exai^te* rated feeling, muftual. suspicion^ and in a large number of instances the extinction of all the kindUer tendencies of our. natucei The unnumbared evila of caaie. are inseparable from the establishment of religion. Men!s respectability ia^ measured GALL IN THE POLITICAL WORLD. 67 by their theological creed, and their station in society deter- mined by their views of Divine truth. Hence, cordial co- operation for the attainment of objects, the value of which both sides admit, is in most cases prevented. Every village has two distinct sets of apparatus for doing good — the one worked by Churchmen, the other by Dissenters. Every town bas its exclusive circles of social enjoyment — ^the one appro- priated to Churchmen, the other to Dissenters. Every section of society is thus split up into incoherent parts. Many are the schemes of usefulness which have been abandoned, owing to the absence of good feeling, between the favoured and degraded sects. StiU more numerous are those which from the same cause are worked inefficiently. Into, every comer of the kingdom the State has thrown the torch of discord by its injudicious meddlings with religious opinion, and has traensmated difGsrence of belief into personal alienation of feeling.. A STATE CHURCH THE NURSE AND PATRONESS OF WAR. " Lo ! where the giant on the mountain stands, His blood-red tresses deepening in the sun ; With death-shot glowing in his fiery hands, And eye that scorches all it glares upon." Here is the poet's impersonation of war — and even thn» arrayed in gorgeous words and figures, it is hateful. But war, to be seen aright, must be presented to the mind in plain, unsophisticated prose, or more properly, stripped down to a naked definition. Is not the whole philosophy of war summed up in a few words ? A sword is an instru> ment constructed and employed to hack in pieces that exquisite piece of mechanism, through the medium of which man sustains his relationship to the natural world, and gathers such happiness as he may out oi the material universe of God; and war is the trial of any question by the issue, whether, say, ten thousand swords shall destroy the Creator's noblest handiwork more swiftly and more effectually than other ten thousand. We have heard men talk in quivering indignation of machine-breakers. The poor misguided Luddites, however, against whom every man took up his parable, and vented his execration, simply knocked to pieces certain cunning combinations of iron and wood — ^kings, courtiers, and the aristocracy have out-done them in the work of machine-breaking; and have taken A STATE CHUBCH THE NUBSE OF WAR. 69 delight in gashing, perforating, rending, and battering to shreds and atoms, the wondrous and divinely constructed engine by which life works out its gre^rt results, and the movements of which are regulated by thought. What says Christianity of the sword 1 What could she say — she whose Master declared with emphasis that He came into the world not to destroy, but to save men's lives? What, but declare that they who take the sword shall perish by the sword ? What, but renounce its proffered aid and assert that the weapons of her warfare are not carnal but spiritual 1 And yet this same sword, this instrument for spilling life and reducing to dust the shrine of man's spirit, does the State Church stoop to pick up — ^baptizes it and calls it Christian — says to it, '* Be thou my guardian, and subdue people to the purpose of my will " — sends it forth to collect her wealth— and even now exhibits it as the ultimate arbiter of her claims. Sophisticate and mystify as we will, what is a State Church but a priesthood carving their way to temporalities by the power of the sword ? The system has its basis in physical force. The germ and essential principle of war is the inmost core of it. It takes the art of destruction into its bosom, and avowedly weds it — separates it to its own especial purpose, and thus sanctifies it in the estimation ot the world. Analyse the ideas involved in the notion of a rdigious establishment— and what, stripped of all ornament, is the elementary principle it' involves? Just this — .power lent to the Church to blow a man's brains out of his head for the sake of Christianity. We defy any man to make aught else of it. We say then of 8 State Church that she is the nurse and patroness of war. Necessarily so. She adopts compulsion, which is the abstract of which the sword is the concrete. 70 A 1BTATE CHUBCH THE 'KT7B8S and of wMch lihe destmction of Qod!s best and most exquisitely skilftil mechanism is the result. She clothes force— the force wMch breaks in pieces, but not builds — with the seeming simction of heaven; she lirO^ religion arm in arm with the madness against which the command of the Highest is levelled, and which real Christianity repu- diates with unwonted scorn — the madness which tramples upon Grod's image in His own creatures. Trace the history of this, or any other State Church, and almost every footstep plashes in the blood of man. How many brave and beauteous edifices of humanity have been shattered and left in ruins at the behest of this sword-allied Church ; formei-ly, in assertion of her right to prescribe the faith — ^latterly, in maintenance of her determination to fleece the wealth of quiet unoffending men ! Directly or indirectly, for her own especial purposes, or for purposes which she sanctioned, as nearly affecting her worldly privileges, what havoc has she not made of a nation's peace ! Unnumbered have been the souls which at her bidding have been sent prematurely into the presence of the Great Judge— altogether incalculable the social ticB which she has hewn asunder with cold steel ! And even now, does she not until this day, by her union with sword- power, practically assert that the doctrine "killing is no murder " is part and parcel of the law of Christ. That the State Church can effectually denounce the art of man-slaying is impossible. Must she not, to all intents and purposes, patronise that by which she lives ? This is no speculation, the question is answered by facts. Where are the great proficients in the science of war ? those who have been most successful in mangling and defadng wretched humanity? Where, but in the councils of the nation, made hereditary legislators for the Church, mingling with bishops, and receiving tokens of their admiration? Jian> FJLTBDNESS OF VAB. TI la -what abuses are deposited the coloured Tags about 'whioh xialioiiB fDugkt, and whidi were secured only by ihe ino6t> detecmmed deBanoe of the conmiand, ''Thou shalt not kiQ "9 Aire not the trophies of slaughter hung up in our ohnsches? Men are exioouraged to blow other men whom iHaey have never Boexi, and between whom and themselves there exists not a particle of enmity, to atoms, by exhorta- tions to stand by the altar and the throne ; and, by thanks- givings and prayers for victory, by priestly addresses and priestly benedictions, they have been taught to believe that- in cutting throats they were serving God, and in firing- mufiket^balls through other men's hearts and heads they were laying up for thMuselves a reward in heaven. Should it be objected that this same war spirit is found among Dissenters, and has been fostered by* Dissentiug; divinfss, we reply, the fact only proves the terrible extent to which the national conscience has been seared, and the fatal success which has followed the association of religion with the power of the sword. All men, even the best> have come to look upon bloodshed with but little horror. All classes and all sects have been educated to regard it as- a istem necessity which Christianity itself must recognise. From generation to generation the coloured glass which a State Church first put into the hands of men, through which to look at the grim and ghastly features of war, has been handed down, so that it is small matter of surprise if even now the monster is not seen in its own light — a thing of which the Gk)spel is abhorrent. In early ages, history informs us, the Church of Christ stood aloof from the sword-power — ^would hold no com- mimion with it, lend it no sanction. True to her glorious end, she laboured everywhere to construct, and refused to* be any party to destroy. Had she retained her noble and godlike position, who can doubt that ere this the sword had 72 A STATE CHURCH THE KUBSB OF WAIL been beaten into the ploughshare) B7 resorting to the sword, partly to enforce the claims of priestly ambition, partly to guard the hoards of priestly wealth, she gaye to it a new long lease of power, and threw a Yeil of sanctily over the hideous coiintenance of war which she had once turned from with inexpressible loathing. What is the result) Man-slaying is, even in these days of boasted enlightenment, the most honourable profession ; and he who with most address and skill lets out streams of life, is lauded as the hero whom it best becomes the country to exalt. So long as there is an alliance between religion and physical force it must be so. Thus is the sword sanctified,^ and all the seeds of war preserved in the crypts and coffers of the Church. How can a deep and universal disapproba- tion of the science of man-destroying be diffused whilst what is called the visible and authorised Christianity of our land employs it as a body-guard, and enlists it for possible service by solemn compact with such as have the manage- ment of it? Why should we deceive ourselves? Either this world must be subdued by the sword or by the Bible. They cannot reign conjointly. One or the other must give way. The attempt to connect the one with the other only prolongs the dominion of physical force. The advocate of a State Church, is, unconsciously but very effectually, the advocate of the sword. TI. MONOPOLY SANCTIONED AND ABETTED BY A STATE CHURCH. An invasion of the rights of all for the special advantage of a favoured few, whilst it may be speciously defended by reasons groiinded upon temporary expediency, has never, so far as we are aware, been justified by any reference to the immutable principles of Christian morality. The fruits of monopoly, however, have not hitherto been such as to recommend the cultivation of the tree. That which begins in robbery can hardly be expected to work out a blessing. In£ractions of the eternal rules of justice, whether perpe- trated by individuals or by States, have always in the long run proved to be impolitic ; so that even experience gives judgment against monopoly. But just in proportion as we apply higher standards of right and wi'ong, and test mono- polies by the decisions of our moral sense and the dictates of revealed truths, just in the same proportion doubts and uncertainties clear oflf ; and the thing which was known to be barely tolerable stands out before us in hideous deformity. Of all principles of policy, monopoly can the least afford to beai* the light Monopoly is the conversion of tuum into vieum by a legal act of simple unmixed injustice. It is essentially priva- tive. It confers nothing; it only takes away. It gives no right; it merely places right in abeyance. It would be well if this feature of it were thoroughly understood. Too 74 MONOPOLY SANCTIONED AND ABETTED commonly it is regarded as somewhat given to a few, which in fairness should be given to all. It is nothing of the sort. It is a somewhat which all possess of natural right taken awav from the mass, that the right leffc in the hands of a few may have a factitious value. It is not a crop raised on a certain spot whilst all the rest of the field is left bare, but a crop previously existing mowed down in all the parts of the field except a little cii-cle capriciously marked out. Mo- nopoly is defined, " the exclusive right of selling a thing " ; but the right to sell that which is mine — in other words, to exchange it for that which is yours, both parties consenting — ^is, possessed antecedently to government ; and, to render it exclusive, either my right or yours must be taken away.. The power which creates monopoly must do so by practisiug injustice. There is no way to privilege but over the mangled remains of right. The whole spirit, the direct precepts, and, we may add, the early practice of Christianity, are dead against monopoly. " Do unto others as you would they should do unto you," and "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others," constitute la two-edged sword which cuts asunder all exclusive pretensions. And if in the morning purity of the Church men voluntarily held all things in common, and no man called aught that he possessed his own, one can hardly see how the same system could sanction the destruction of a common right with a view to individual advantage. A State Church is a monopoly — a monopoly of the worst kind, the abettor of all other monopolies, how abominable soever. The history of the Church of England is one of the most curious, one of the most instructive, and one of the most humiliating illustrations of the hateful principle we have attempted briefly to describe. It is the history of a confiict betw6en monopoly and light, in which the formBr, sordy ag&inat its nactore, has been compelled by tne latter to surrender several of its most preposterous pretensions. In ihe palmy days of her power, the Chnrch arrogated to herself the exclusive right of determining what should be the nation's faith, and denied the exercise of private judgment. This usurpation having been wrested from her (not without a deadly struggle), she still claimed as her sole prerogative the privilege of teaching. Losing this, she strenuously laboured, and laboured successfolly for upwards of a century, to withhold from persons not of her communion civil enjoyments to which they were entitled. And until this day she assimies power to tax directly or indirectly every subject of the realm for her maintenance and support. Every step here tramples upon some right common to all men ; and, whatever may be the ostensible purpose, the real one is to destroy what belongs to the many, in order that the value of that which remains with the few may be enhanced. like sympathises with like. The Church which set the example of cutting down the rights of others, with a view to a selfish advantage, could never pretend to condemn monopoly in principle. She sees in it nothing but a reflection of her own features, and she is not likely to start back with affright. Others may deem the thing a monster, but the Church cannot. Hatred of monopoly would be hatred of herself. This were unnatural This or that modification of the principle she may condemn ; but against the principle itself i^e cannot lifb her voice, for " Qois tulerit Gracclios de seditione quaerentes ? " And what ^e likelihood of the thing would lead us to anticipate, fects abundantly confirm. The monopoKes of James and Charles, cruel as they were, the State Church WW Ibrwsid cnoog^ to abet hf htioMtg ikt fisei of tiie ijianU md fiimiiiliiiig me ]velended Brrine laeBttipii oii Ibr an tlidr Ibokria jukd an tlidr crimoL Hie inonopolj <^ If gi i1 ■ Hon k mainly upbtM Ij the JnflewMy of the EafailJish- mcnL Sieihakesliaiids with the lbod-]iMMM]fiolT^,a^ arows the Jntrimitr eomiectian L c iae c m eatPctiveConilAira and her own p ro sp ei iij, Ag^mifc slaTexj — the msmopoky of hmnan tiiews and amewii^ of homan hearts and heads — she never protested, but soDenly stood aloof finom sgitstiim^ and erefjwhere whiqwred cifaunn j *gMwt the chief agitators. This, indeed, is one of the grarest political objectkms which lie against a ciril estabHshment of religion — that by a natond law, a law ^singing out of its tcxj oonstitiitiony its influence has been, and always will be, exited cm the side of whatever is narrow and exdnsive^ whatever tres- passes npon the commim and inalienaUe li^ts of human natnra In all ages of onr country's history, the State Church has proved the most powerful bulwark of monoipoLj — ^never, periiaps, more offensively so than in the present day. No considerations of danger, no promptings of humanity, no compassion for pining myriads, can avail to draw from her a single word in disapprobation of our existing Com Laws. She is still found the active Mend of those who range themselves against the liberties and the ha)>pine8s of the peopla The large majority of de- termined monopolists returned to Parliament at the last election has been ascribed, and we think justly, to the overwhelming influence of the Church. Any advance to a more liberal system of government must be effected in the face of her active, organised, and powerful opposition. So long as she remains, monopoly will not want an earnest and too-efficient ally. Herself an embodiment of injustice, she can always sympathise with injustice. In the &M of secular monopolies she reads her own approaching doom. Vlt. THE CHURCH AND THE THRONE. Some of the political evils flowing from a State Ohnrcli, and those not trivial in character, we have attempted to bring nnder the notice of our readers. Its influence for mischief is indeed felt in almost every department of public affidrs; and, but that we fear to become wearisome, we might subject, one by one, our institutions to examination, and observe how all are crippled, enervated, neutralised, or completely perverted by an Established Church. It is a parasitical weed in a garden of flowering and fruit-bearing plants — ^it is everywhere present, overruns every species of useful v^etation — ^interlaces itself with, and seriously injures, even if it does not destroy, all that we would cultivate with most anxious care — and converts what might otherwise have yielded us wholesome food into a mere framework of props, around and upon which to hang its flaunting and worthless self By the very constitution of the country the Church has associated itself with the Throne—and for most of the purposes which the latter properly contemplates, and which, if disposed and able to eflect, would command for it unbounded respect, and engage to it the affections of all hearts, the Throne is spoiled by the association. We speak not of the individual monarch who may happen to occupy the seat of sovereignty — but of the power of which that individual is, in this country, the representative —the 78 THE CHUBCH AUD THE THBOKK supreme executiye — the fountam of judicial and magisterial authorily. We speak, therefore, of the Throne rather than of the king or queen — ^we include in the term all the officers of its appointment and all the high functions pertaining to the Crown ~ and we aver, and shall endeavour to substantiate the averment, that whatever of good we might £url7 expect to derive from the institution is immensely deteriorated, and in some cases wholly destroyed, whilst a vast amount of the mischief inflicted by it upon society is produced and encouraged, by the dlinging around it of a parasitical State Chucch. This view of tha subject is no new one. In Milton's time events: brought it out into high relief and gi^ve to it. a pDominenoe and distinctness whicdi fixed ike attention of erery mail who loved, the liberty of his country. The fdLlowiog magnificent passc^ iaJBt3om.the baxd's^ TcaatisQ on Chnreh Gaverjuiient:>r^' "I cannot better lilpeptha state and pe w cnqf a- king tiwa to that ndghty Nazaadt^ Sao^ttbon, who being disciplined in. the praciioe of temperance and sobriety, and without the strong drink of excessive and injorions desires, grows up to a noble strength and perfection, with those his illnstrious and smmy locks^ the laws; waving and evling about his godlike siraoldera. And while he keeps them abouihim undiminished and unshorn, he may, with the jaw^wne of an ass, that is, with the word of his meanest officei; suppress and put to confusion thousands of those that rise up against his just power. But laying down his head amongst the strumpet flatteries of prelates, whilst he sleeps and thinks no harm, they wickedly flaying off all those bri^t and weighty tresses of his hwrs and just prerogatives which were hiaomament and strength, deliver him over to indirect and violent counsels,, which, as those PhilistiQe8» put out the clear and far-sighted eyes of his natural discerning, and make him grind in the prison-house of their sinister ends and practices upon him. Till he, knowing this prelatical razor to have bereft him of his wonted might, nourish again his puissant hair, the golden beams of law and ri^^t ;. and stamly shook thunder with ruin upon the heada* of tkpge his .enil, couasellors, bat.,iiQii witiioutr gpeat affliotion tp liiixi9«l£." Qur country's history h& continuoua illustration of this passage. It would not bedifSieuIt to go serwiim through the reigna of our, monarcha from the B^formatiom downwards, and mark how all the. prerogatives of royaltj have been perverted to baae tyrannical purposes, by the influence of the State Church. The mitred barons and digni£ed Church- men have in all past times, with a view to their own sordid wel£Eu:e, crept up the steps of the Throne, and planting themselves about the peiTson of the monarch, have instilled into his ears and heart narrow and bigoted counsels mingled with fulsome flattery. The Throne, instituted for the protection of all eights, is bound, and pinioned, and deprived of the. free exercise of its power by a clerical corporation^ whose, main objects may be gathered from the oath which it imposes upon the king, at his coronation, to ^^ preserve imto the bishopsiand clergy of England and Ireland, and ta the united Church committed to their charge, all such rights ^mid privileges as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them." Descending,, however,, from general, statementa to paiv , tiiailar instances, we propose to point out the influence exerted for evil by the Churdi upon the Throne^ in respect of. the business of legislation, the distribution of honours, the administration of law, and the discharge of magisterial functions. The initiation of all. great national legislative measures, althon^ not the exclusive right of the Throne, is in the great majority of cases undertaken by or conceded to the Ministers of the Crown. No one can be insensible to the weight with which they thereby tell upon the mind of the liC^lislature; The moral influence possessed by the Throne, 80 anokble fat carrjiag sodi ineuiuo^ is inaJcoUile; sad, eootequentty, it k a mstter of Tsai moment tbit sodi inflnenoe dioiild be stodioiialj kepi finee fiom smisker liiaaL Bat wlien the meMODrei fiimuuiting fiom thk hig^ q[iiarter most be squared to ocxifeGide wilk tlie mfteRsts of a pawUeged daas — ^wben jdans of politj, rB comineiH ie d bj the most enJaigdd Tiews of wbat is demanded bj tbe ezigendes of the States, must be pazed down lest they^ shoold jostle flgunst ecclesiastical prejudices — wben soimd pnnc^es must be rgected because tbeir adc^itioii would seem to tfaieaten clerical exduaiveiiesBy or would c^iainlj arouse clerical alarm — ^in a word, wben it is obvioiislj unsafe for official statesmen to introdooe needed refimns in tbe instita- tions of the coantrjy mdess sach reforms are de^j tinged with Church-of-Fiiiglandism, we say, that tiie wholesome influence o£ the Grown is penrerted, and its anthority brought into unnecessary contempt by being thus pinned down to one^ded legislation. Hence our statnte4x>ok is filled with laws which savour of Church intolerance, and indulge priestly cupidily and pride. Hence the minds of all our statesmen are swathed and bandaged, and all their measures are paltry compromises between right and expediency. Their range of thought is limited by eccle- siastical walls — their efforts for the national welfiu*e confined within a narrow circle by the ignorance or bigotry of a State-paid clergy. The Church allows them but little room to do good. The Crown is regarded as* the well-spring of honour — and the Church taints it with its own exclusiveness. We say nothing about the worth of the baubles thus distributed to please grown-up children. Inasmuch as they are objects of very common ambition, it is obviously politic and just that they should be bestowed with an impartial hand. And yet who does not know that the way to dignity, in what THE CHURCH AND THE THBONE. 81 department soever, is open only to such as profess attach- ment to the Church. The most curious anomalies arise out of this state of things. Public men whose private opinions are known to be in bitter hostility to all religion — adven- turers whose lives would disgrace any creed — soldiers who have seldom seen the interior of a church — ^lawyers utterly indifferent to the rules of Christian morality — men who identify themselves with political principles which cannot by any possibility be made to coalesce with a State Church— all feel themselves compelled to utter hypocritical professions of attachment to the Establishment, and, as they struggle up to the Throne, degrade themselves by doing insincere homage to an institution they despise. Probably there is nothing parallel to this in any country under the sun. In no other land, we believe, do men who aim at public dis- tinction so invariably belie their reason and their manhood, by offering incense to a priesthood in whose sanctity they have 310 fisdth. Poets, philosophers, statesmen — physicians, law- yers, soldiers— the bankrupt in character, the abandoned in morals, the infidel in creed — all stoop to flatter the Church when they wish to gain the fevourable notice of the Crown, The administration of law in this country has been the subject of much, and not undeserved, eulogy. The ermine of justice has been thought to be unsullied. But here again tiie sinister influence of a State Church begins to show it8el£ Ben^ades from early principles scruple not to xningle the gall of bitterness with unjust judgments^ In matters ecclesiastical, the Bench itself can travel out of the record to suggest to grasping Churchmen how they may poflBibly carry their most oppressive plans into effect with- out entangling themselves in the meshes of law. Statutes are twisted from their obvious intent, and strained beyond all precedent to meet the wants of the Establishment a 82 THB CHUBCH AJTD THE THBOKS. This IB but the b^nming of evil — ^bat " if these things are done in a green, tree, what will be done in a dry one 1 " Over the whole system of the unpaid magistracy the weed has mn in rankest Inxorianoe, and conyerted it into a mere pest to the liberties of Englishmen. Impartialily in these officers of the Crown, especially the vast numbers of them who sostain the clerical office, we have ceased even to expect To carry out the designs of aristocratic insolence — to browbeat timid poverly — to enforce with harshest severity the laws which harass our humble peasantry — to break down all independence of spirit still lingering amidst our labouring population — seem now to be the main objects of the magisterial bench. It is charged to the full with ecclesiastical malignity. It is ever a ready instrument to uphold ecclesiastical pret^isions and abet eedesiastical encroachments. The adYocates of the compulsory system contend that the Church and the Throne must stand or £blJ1 together. We hope not— for the doom of the first is sealed. The ivy will certainly come down — the oak may stand and flourish all the more vigorously when the creeper shall have been removed. VIIL THE INFLUENCE OF THE STATE CHURCH UPON PUBLIC POLITICAL OPINION. Thbt who have chanced to witness the effect produced by a London atmosphere upon some ill-starred shrub — ^to see the dingy, stunted, shrivelled, poverty-stricken condition of the miserable plant — to observe how, during the first few sunny days of spring, as though fresh vigour had been infused into it, new shoots peep forth to drink the air, and then, as if disgusted with the murky world without, curl in upon themselves, seemingly in search of that comfort which they cannot find abroad ; — they who have looked upon such a specimen of ''a noble nature spoilt," have seen a fair type of public political opinion in this country \uider the blighting influence of a Church Establishments Hastily and by the way we have already glanced at itw- It deserves, however, separate consideration. The evil is- one of such magnitude, is so little noticed, and yet so baneful in its effects, that to assign it any but a prominent • place in the catalogue of mischiefs inflicted upon the State- by a. National Church, would be a representation of Hamlet with the part of Hamlet left out Government, in this country, is ultimately controlled by public ; opinion. We say ultimately, for it is by a proce?fti of development, of the slowest and most difficult, that public opinion, finally establishes its influence over omr institutions. It is, tiierefpre, of the last importance th^t; 84 THs nrrLUSBTCB of thb statb chubch the minds of our leading public men, of whatever party, should be free— practically as well as theoretically free. K by conventional laws, which are usually more binding than positive enactments, they are restricted to the selection of unsound principles, and are compelled by inveterate and tyrant custom to work up base metal in their forges of thought^ the greater their ability and the more eminent their seeming success, the deeper is the r^ret which must be felt that' their labour was bestowed upon intrinsically worthless materials. The country may have an elaborate system of laws, which, even when it shows the skill of the workmen who fashioned it, proves totally unfit for the wants and exigencies of the people. Great men have been undoubtedly produced by this nation in the department of politics ; our history sparkles with the names of illustrious statesmen. Public opinion, such as it is, must be regarded as the combined result of their labours — ^the growth of those seeds of thought which they sowed broadcast upon the mind of society. An un- genial spot, however, have they invariably chosen upon which to labour; and the germs of truth, as they have sprung up, have been exposed to a nipping atmosphere. Owing to a fatal perversity, the result of previous education and inveterate habit, they have never freely exposed their opinions to the open breath and gladdening light of heaven, but systematically they have planted them in the shade cast upon them by the surrounding walls of a State Church. And the poor shrivelled things, which elsewhere would have become vigorous and have borne pleasant fruity remain miserable and sickly dwarfs, producing nothing bigger than a berry, and that making up for its loss in size by the intensity of its bitterness. We are aware how easy it is to seem to make out a case by the he)p of figurative language, when not a particle of UPON PUBLIC POLITICAL OPimON. 85 Babstantial truth is stated, and through the stained glass of tropes and metaphors to let in light upon — nothing. Lest, therefore, we should be guilty of this error, and mislead some into the supposition that our sole object is to induce them to stare at a painted window, we shall submit to their notice a few unadorned but grave considerations upon which the preceding paragraphs are intended simply to throw a tempered and favourable light. No tolerably informed person can be ignorant of the intellectual bondage to which Europe submitted during the dark ages under the iron rule of Aristotelian dogmas ; none can have failed to observe how the human mind was dis- torted and crippled by the manacles which tyrant custom then imposed upon it. Philosophy worked in gyves to perform the bests of an inexorable despot; all its move- ments were awkward, all its results comparatively worth- less. Just such is the condition of the political world at the present moment. Our statesmen wear the cliains of a dogma, and in every department of their labours exhibit the pitiable effects of the self-imposed slavery. One of the first axioms in politics to which our public men subscribe is, "that it is the'Huty of the State to provide for the religious instruction of its subjects" ; and this axiom having been assumed, without inquiry and quite irrespectively of ai'gument, the conclusion is easily anived at — ^that our present Establishment is a fair embodiment of this truth, and consequently must be maintained at all hazards. Henceforth reason, knowledge, sagacity, can only work up to the limit of this dogma; all reforms must be squared to coincide with it : all principles are held to be practically true up to this mark ; beyond it what was wisdom becomes folly — what was despicable, highly to be esteemed. Take, for example, any one fundamental principle of ^G THX nrFLUEKCE OF THE STATIC CHUBCH ^sound government — ^that representation should be co-equal with taxation — that opinion should be free — that every suspected delinquent should be tried by a jury of his peers — ^that public officers should be responsible to public authority — and which of them, maintained though it be with eloquence within a certain range, is not surrendered, trampled upon, despised, at the bidding of a State Church ] Ko sooner do ecclesiastical politics become the theme of discussion than our most vigorous statesmen become drivellers — our boldest, trembling bondsmen — eating up their own principles, retailing thoughts with which their reason never made acquaintance, and uttering, "in whis- p3ring humbleness," eulogies upon an institution which they know to constitute the insuperable obstacle to the success of all their most fondly-cherished schemes. Oh! it is a pitiable spectacle to see our Broughams and Durhams, our Greys and Morpeths, fling down their imderstandings at the feet of priestcraft, and offer up noble truths as a sacrifice to propitiate sanctimonious Churchmen ! Who ever heard these men, within the range of ecclesiastical affairs, enounce those broad maxims of universal truth wnich formed the very bone and sinew of their efforts in other departments ? With burning shame have we beheld them bowing their otherwise manly reason before a senseless and imexamined dogma; and allowing a State Church to command back the ad- vancing tide of their thought with its imperious " ffitherto ;shalt thou come, but no further." Coming down from the mountain-tops to the secluded vales of society — from eminent statesmen to ordinary politicians — we may observe the influence which a State Church exerts upon public opinion on a yet broader ^cale. The numerous small fry of legislators, in the midst of which Mr. Wakley swims, in matters pertaining UPON PUBUC POLITIOAL OPIN|OK. 87 to conscience are the merest spawn of pirejudice. Upon the bearings of our religions Establishment upon the freedom, the independence, the happiness of the people, thej have never even thought to think. The Church is— consequently it ought to be — and theifefore it must be. This is the sum of their logic. Forthwith they give expression to some political opinion which they have, picked up in Jeremy Bentham or have received from some of his disciples, and then, as though they could not comprehend it, launch out into panegyric upon a Church based upon the very subversion of the principles they have just enounced. " Religion must not be left to the caprice of the Voluntary principle," says Lord John Eussell : '^ but for an Establishment,^' says Lord Brougham, "it would be torn to pieces by discordant sects"; and these, and such-like crumbs and scraps, .without even a semblance of reason to season them, are greedily swallowed by the minnows of the party, who thereupon wag their tails and think they have been fed with solid political wisdom. Of all the humiliating exhi- bitions of the mind of man, stuffed up to the chin with crudities, and perfectly besotted with prejudice, we defy any person to point out one more humiliating than a House of Commons engaged upon some Church question. How is it likely that society in general should not be affected by the same influence ? Talk with any half-dozen men, no matter what their creed, and you will observe at least five out of six to be in similar bondage. On all other topics they are ready to assign some intelligible, if not sufficient, reason for their opinions — on the question of an Establishment they do not inquire for one. " A Christian country must have a National Church." This they take to l)e self-evident. What follows ? Why, that every principle which would clearly go to the overthrow of priestcraft must 88 UIFLUJUiCB OF THS 8TATB CHURCH OV OPINIOH. ipto /aeto be Utile better than madness; and that every gpedes of injustice required for its maintenance most be not only tolerated, but zealously upheld. Under the in- fluence of this tyrannous system you will see men holding the most liberal political opinions, and displaying in all other relations the most kindly dispositions^ go to parochial meetings and mouth the maxims of the purest despotism, and deliberately vote to give effect to intolerable cruelty. Is all this surprising) An Established Church is built upon the ruins of mental freedom ; and the public opinion that suffers and sanctions a State Church has locked itself up within the doors of prejudice and put the key in its pocket. Within that little space the understanding may exercise itself; but abroad into the wide world it cannot go. A nation thus governed is a self-guarded prisoner. It may talk of liberty, but practically it is a slave. IX. A STATE CHURCH UNFRIENDLY TO POPULAR EDUCATION. When we spoke of Government in this coxintry as being ultimately controlled by public opinion, the reader would hardly fidl of discovering another height from which to view the political mischief resulting from a religious Establishment. If our national institutions are but so many concretions of the national will — ^if they are cor- rectly regarded as the bodyings forth of that intelligence which is contained in the public mind, as the mere thoughts of the people assuming "a local habitation and a name,'' then must popular education and good govern- ment be so intimately associated as to beconxe well-nigh identical. To inspire a universal taste for knowledge, to impart and foster the habit of diligence in acquiring the information i-equisite for an enlightened exercise of the judgment, and, above all, to encourage that mental independence without which cultivated faculties even of the highest order are but tools for prejudice to work with, must surely be the readiest and most feasible method of securing rational legislation and sound poll tical institutions. For public opinion is the total amount of which the opinions of individuals constitute the items. Every facility, therefore, aflforded to individuals for arriving at just conclusions on public affairs, is pro 90 A 8TA1S CHUBCH UNFRIENDLY tarUo a guarantee for the soundness of public opinion, and, ultimately, for the promotion of good government. To '' national education," in the sense in which the phrase is usually understood — to the principle which would del^ate to ''the powers that be" the functions of the schoolmaster, we must here proclaim our objec- tion. It is a task for the performance of which we believe Government to be wholly incompetent — which, however sincerely attempted, would, in the long run, result in the defeat of the very object it was under- taken to advance. But, in perfect consistency with this opinion, we hold that no creature of the State ought to be an impediment in the way of popular education; and that the institution, be it what it may, which systematically obstructs the growth of the public mind, ought to be denounced with emphasis and earnestness by every enlightened statesman. We should like to put the question to some of our eminent Liberal politicians, how far, in their judgment, the State Church has displayed a friendly feeling to- wards general education? Can the fact be denied — has it not been asserted by these very men in every variety of language, that, but for the efforts of Dissenters, the population of this country would have been at this mo- ment a mere mass of brutal ignorance? What plans for the intellectual cultivation of the poor originated with the clergy when in the zenith of their power? Has not their bitter hostility uniformly stood in the way of the patriotism and philanthropy of others when- ever the object has been to diiluse knowledge and to convert the mere animal into intelligent and reflecting man? Did they command the "march of intellect" of which the last thirty years have been the witness? We shall not insult the reader's memory by continuing such TO POPULAR EDUCATION. 91 interrogations. The £su;t stands recorded in history, and no effipontery can e&uce it, no sophistry can wrench it out of its place, that up to a very recent period the Church not only neglected the education of the masses, but discouraged it, frowned upon it, pointed ridicule and hurled anathemas at those who entered upon the glo- rious work and stood the grand bulwark and fortress of national ignorance. If she has not succeeded, it is not for want of will. She has done her best to shut out the light — she has tried to stuff her own prejudice and bigotry into every chink through which the rays of truth might shine in upon the |K>pular mind. To a terrible extent she has prevailed. Our rural districts offer proof at once of her abhorrence of general edu- cation and the magnitude of her power. "Let bygones be bygones." In pity let us leave the past, in candour let us come to the present. We will consent to forget history ; we have no occasion for it to make out our case. All we ask is that men will look at things as they are. What is the present aspect of affEdrs in relation to this subject? The clergy have been aroused. Eeehngs of rivalry have fairly overcome their dislike of popular knowledge. Schools, facetiously called " National," in which small modicums of learning done up in the bitterest sectarianism are dealt out to youthful minds, spring up in every direction ; and the '^ successors of the apostles " have passed from the extreme of apathy to the opposite one of zeal ; insomuch as to covet the labours of those who have borne the heat and burden of the day, and to demand that the whole undivided charge of instructing the ignorant shall be imposed upon them. Does not this state of things give the lie to our assertion that a State Church is imfriendly to the education of the people? yZ A STATE CHUBCH UNFRIENDLY We remember being told in our youthful days that dog-fanciers succeeded in producing the race of tiny lap- dogs by administering gin to them while puppies, and thus preventing their further growth. We shall not need to insist upon the correctness of our information. True or. false, it will serve to illustrate our present subject. The main end of the system of education worked by the clergy seems to be, to hinder the free development of the youthful mind, and to produce a race of intel- lectual dwarfs. With the miserable pittance of instruc- tion, the coarsest rudiments of knowledge imparted in their schools, they mingle slavish maxims tisqioe ad nauseam. Habits of inquiry constitute just the one thing which they labour to prevent — independence of mind, the cardinal sin which the youngsters are taught to shun. To do what they are bid; to think as they are taught; to believe what they are told by clerical authority; to go to church without knowing why; to submit to government as it is without asking where- fore; to be reading and writing machines to subserve the purposes of the powerful and the rich — mere living copies of a primer and a prayer-book, this is what our rising generation are to gain by the generous aid of the Establishment. Now that the popular mind is beginning to quicken and to sprout, the clergy wish to plant it in the flower-pot of a State Church. Should they unhappily succeed, the fibres of curiosity, which imder other circumstances, woidd strike down into the soil in quest of nutriment, and draw up sap from every quarter, will be met on all sides by an impene- trable obstruction, curl round and round the State-Church pot, become a tangled, matted, ^hardened cake of mere un- reasoning prejudice, which in the end would be incapacitated from drinking up knowledge even if floods of knowledge were TO POPULAB EDUCATION. 9o poured upon it. We see the effects of l^is flower-pot system in every direction. One is perpetually meeting with men, the natural growth and expansion of whose minds have been checked by a " National School " education ; and it is truly pitiable to observe how they have thereby become disquali- fied for availing themselves of the vast amount of truth which lies outside of the little sphere in which they were first instructed. The man never gets beyond the boy. That he acquires a few more ideas within the same range we do not deny — ^but the intellect itself never grows — ^it simply hardens. He has never been taught to think, but to acquiesce without question in the thoughts of others. Just in proportion to his docility in childhood, his intellectual stature becomes fixed precisely at that .period when nature has appointed it to expand — ^and, by the help of creeds and formularies, narrow social maxims and sharp discipline, he becomes a confirmed dwarf — a fit tool for the amusement and service of a selfish aristocracy. This is popular educa- tion in the clerical meaning of the words. Nor must it be forgotten, in the consideration of this subject, that this tendency of religious Establishments to stunt and check the growth of popular mind, is not a thing of time and circumstance, but of necessity — a propension springing out of their very nature. The State Church stereotypes a system of faith, and its clergy are paid to teach and maintain it. Alteration becomes next to impossible, for every change would endanger its stability. The Church has a vested interest to the amount of some millions annu- ally in suppressing free inquiry. For should people on<^ acquire the habit of looking upon the institutions of the countiy in the light of truth rather than of prescription, how many inconvenient questions would thenceforth be mooted. The injustice of endowing a chosen sect with national funds, the general inefficiency of a State-paid clergy, their bigotry 94 STATE CHUBCH UNFRIENDLT TO POPULAB EDUCATIOIT. and intolerance, their subservience to aristocratic designs — a host of subjects, kindred in character with these, would speedily be subjected to searching investigation. Upon the foundations of an Establishment it is plainly inexpedient to let the light of intelligence play freely. The less that is thought about this question, the less frequently it is dis- cussed, the better for the recipients of tithes, bequests, and compulsory offerings. For them to encourage free inquiry^ would be suicidal policy. An institution must either rest upon reason or prescription. If on reason, it will court in- quiry — ^if on prescription, inquiry must if possible be sup- pressed. To teach men to think independently on all subjects but one is a pure impossibility. The Church knows, this — and the education which she would give is that which would prevent the exercise of thought altogether. Wise in their generation are the State-pensioned clergy ! • What is the result? It may be stated in a few words. The mind of man will be active, if not in a right direction^ then in a wrong one. The education of the people being, thus discouraged, they are shut out from most of the sources of rational enjoyment and recreation ; they seek them conse- quently in the indulgence of low and brutal tastes — tastes which the Church was forward enough, not many years since, to dierish. This is made a pretext for denying them the franchise. Hence springs class legislation, with its long train of frightftil evils — ^monopoly, oppression, unequal taxa- tion, one law for the rich and another for the poor. There are few political evils under which the country now groans which may not ultimately be traced to the existence of a State Church. X. A WORD TO LIBERAL STATESMEN. We cannot persuade ourselves to quit the ground we now occupy, and leave the consideration of the political evils re- . suiting from a State. Chui'ch, without addressiag ourselves to those political men whose aims are avowedly patriotic,' whose principles are Liberal, and who believe ihe good of a people rather than of a class to be the only legitimate end of government. Such men there are, both in and out of Parliament, whom we would fain hope to be yet open to. conviction. Whether clothed with office or free from it» shackles, whether members of the Legislature or volunteers only in their coimtry's service, they are properly the states- men of the present day. Politics constitute tiieir study. They think for the nation. Our laws are ultimately the ex- pression of their minds — ^for public opinion is mainly moulded by their influence and channelled out by their exertions. To these men, titled and untitled, celebrated and comparatively unknown save in their own immediate neighbourhoods, we address a few concluding observations— asking nothing more, on behalf of our remarks than that they be seriously pondered — rejected if found wanting— recognised and acted upon if imbued with truth. No intelligent observer can have failed to perceive, that there is at the present moment in process of growth, a new school of politics, one which will eventually, and may soony supersede all existing parties* The cycle of feudalism haet 96 A WOBD TO UBESAL STATESMEN. well nigh ran out. It commenced with &n oligarchy, the nominal head of which was onlj a puppet in the hands of mailed barons — it will terminate at the same pointy the only difference being that the mailed barons have become silken lords. The feudal system has been tried under every modi- fication which the essential nature of it will admit of— and, as might have been expected, it has £sdled. The human mind quickened by intelligence has pushed up the incrusta- tion which had formed above it. For a time, held together by its own tenacity, aristocracy has kept its position of superiority ; just as we see occasionally a hardened lump of clay lifted clean above the ground by a vigorous plant beneath. But that position it cannot long maintain. It is nothing more than a conventionalism — and as such it will be thrown off. Society is encumbered by its weight — bowed down — ^forced out of its natural upward tendency, and as the sap rises, and the public mind acquires somewhat more of pith and fibre, feudalism, already cracked and crumbling from exposure to air and sunshine, must at last drop off of itself, supposing it be not first displaced by some sudden gust of popular indignation. It is not a little remar^ble that State religion has sympathised with feudalism in all its changes. The Estab- lished Church has been, and is, the creature of oligarchy, receiving sustenance at its hands, and evincing in return a thorough subservience to its wilL Correctly speaking, the State Church and aristocracy are one and the same thing — one principle variously developed — ^privil^e above right, embodied in religious and in temporal affairs. Our Estab- lishment is the religious concrete, as aristocracy is the temporal one, of which exclusive privilege is the abstract They kre twin branches of the same root. They have flourished, and but for ignorant intermeddling will decay together. The only thing to be feared ia lest our statesmen A WOBD TO LIBEBAL STATESMEST. 9T of the Liberal school should be induced to graft twigs of it upon rising democracy, in which case, if it lives, nothing but bitter fruit can be expected. And this, we regret to say, they are doing — doing with no small assiduity and painstaking. Along with the seeds of wholesome political truth which they are sowing in the public mind, they are deliberately mingling those of spiritual exdusiveness. As though history contained not a single page in illus- tration of the political mischiefs resulting from a State Church — as though our own time furnished no one proof of the obstacles it throws in the way of national progress — ^as though clear-sighted reason were unable to discern the natural antagonism between the principle of democracy and the principle of a religious Establishment, these men, in the senate and on the hustings, by word and by pen, publicly and in private, are strenuously attempting to infuse into the new school that which, if allowed to constitute an element of its faith, will render it wholly tmfit for the work of renovating the political institutions of our land. Democracy is a reality — a State Church is a mere conventionalism; reason animates the one — the other can only Hve in the absence of reason; the former is a sincerity, a vital, glow- ing, earnest sincerity — ^the other a semblance only, a form, a disguise, a falsehood, having designs which it dares not avow, and avowing designs which it never had ; light is the congenial element of democracy, close investigation its habit — a State Church flourishes best in darkness, is then most perfect when in juxtaposition with the least intelligence, and denounces the prying curiosity which might one day be induced to examine her pretensions. The two things oannot coexist, caimot run in couples. The one will assuredly strangle the other, and possibly both may perish in the struggle. We are not fooUoh enpu^ to expect that the class of. statesmen to which we allude will take up a position of direct hostility to the Establiahi^ent as now existing. They have been trained in the school of party, and are not likely to become the simply votaiiee of truth. All we ask of them is to take care that the eggs of prejudice be not deposited in the young and risiug plant which they have laboured to rear. Intellectually they repudiate the alliance, between civil and rqligipus institutions. Profess what they will in confoTHiity with the caiiit of the day, one cannot but observe a scowl across th^ miads as they do outward reverence to priestly dogmas, »nd feel themselves constrained to sanction principles in reference to ecclesiastical affairs which, in all matters pertaining to civil government^ they trample u,pon with disdain. They cannot pronounce the Stikte-Church shibboleth without an awkward twist of the mouth. They cannot, to please her, forget history and hoodwink reason without a consciousness of degradation* They touch their hats to intolerance with a hurried and ungraceful air. But we see no reason for their attempts to perpetuate a bondage, the gsi^lling annoyance of which they feel every day. If they will jiot lift up a hand against the Establishment, at all events jt i^ not within their legitimate vocation to aid and abet it. They are the parents of de- mocra,py, and to .them the youthi looks up with filial respect. They might well abstain^ therefore, from stufhng him with crudities which, nnder other training, they were them- selves compelled to awallow. J^t them, if they will, regacd the se|>aration of Church and State as, under existing circumstances, impa.'aoticable, democracy will know hereafter how to deal with that. But to utter State- Ohnrch maomis as genuine metal, and stamp upon them tl^i^r own ixnege, that the^ m«y have currency in suc- ceeding generations, is unworthy of the men. It proves A WORD TO LIBERAL STATESMEN. 91> one of two things — a crick in the judgment, or a flaw in the heart. Shall we be guilty of inexcusable vanity and presumption if we venture to claim that our preceding remarks on this subject be deliberately read and reflected upon ? We have drawn up an indictment, consisting of several counts, against the Establishment, and we ask of Liberal politicians a verdict of " guilty," or " not guilty." If we have made out our case, can any man pretending to patriotism lend the sanction of his name and influence to the perpetuation of this evil ? For what is the substance of our charge 1 We have identi- fied the Church as the mere tool of aristocracy, which has been in all times past, and is at the present moment^ handled with terrible effect against the liberties of the people. That it embitters political strife, patronises war, abets monopoly, exerts a mischievous influence upon the Throne in respect of legislation, the distribution of honours, the administration of law, and the discharge of magisterial functions, stunts and distorts public political opinion, and presents an almost insuperable obstacle to popular educa> tion — ^these are matters which we take to be proved. All history proves them. But if this be true, what unmanliness is it in our statesmen to blink the whole question, and refuse even to recqnsider the axiom, that " it is the duty of the State to •provide religious instruction for its subjects." Can that be a principle philosophically true which, in every instance or its application, here or elsewhere, has produced, more or less, the above results? This question demands thorough investigation. GROUP THE THIRD. A STATE CHUKCH VIEWED IN THE LIGHT OF COMMON SENSE. The dogma, that '* it is the duty of the State to provide for the religioiia instraction of its sabjects," is first of all subjected to the iinalysis of ^reason. A little inquiry into the nature of religion, what is meant by religions instruction, who and what is the State, and what an obligation to attend to the religion of its subjects infers, brings out the meaning ol an axjom- often uttered but never under- stood. The necessary results of an alliance between things secular and sacred do not corroborate the truth of the maxim. A State Chte«ii onunps the fffowHk of theology, and weakens the aotfaority of truth — converts the mos^ saoved of caHingii into a matter of property — engenders priestism — encourages religion by proxy — ^places dissi- dents in a humiliating position, by which meanness of spirit is fostered— checks the development of willing Christianity — and repels the poor from religion altogether. These evils are not contingent merely --they are the natural and certain efifects of the systenL WEAT A iSTATE effiUItCH fMFESSES tO BO. SfiLiQioir ! Here mtit^ dtu* ifiqilkies begin if we are to estitnitte correctly the philosc^hy of a State Church— nseeing tibat it in not very eaigy to prohoui^ce a decision uj)oii the 'fitness ot a given apparatus of flieans, in entire ignorance of l^e end such means have been fipamted to accomplish. Our i^Baders need be under no alarm. We have no design of introducing to their notice thoughts whose proper home lies in the regions of theology, nor shall We ask them to converse With truth dressed up in the everlasting buckram of techni- cality and cant. There can be nothing unbecoming in looking with the common intelligence of man upon What is designed for man — or in endeavouring to see under cover of a word, not seldom obtruded upon our notice, a definite and intelligible thing. Eeligion is ihe ostensible object of an Established Church. 3i»,tesmen tell us that it is the safe- guard of nations, the basis of all sodal and political order, tile very breath of our national life. Why then, of (^urse, it is a reality. May we not look at it without ofience to ihtfir rules of conventional propriety 1 Are we piBcduded ftom asking, ''What is thiA thing, to work out wiiich we have erected machineiy so costly 1 ** Must iAi^ name suffice usf Is it a mere token--^-a password— cabalintic letters wfdch shut up a meaning into which none but 1^ initiated may inqiiire 1 We are not just of that opinion. " Whafl* is it which a Bta4« Ohurdli profesSM to do 9^' seomchto us a 104 WHAT A STATE OHTTBCH PROFESSES TO DO. preliminaiy question to that other, "Whether it is well adapted to do what it proposes 1 " It takes from us millions annually for the express and avowed object of promoting religion. Spite of all ci^toms, maxims, conventionalities to the contrary, we shall take leave to examine for ourselves, and for our readers, what religion really is. Strange as it may seem, it is not more strange than truei that the self-appointed, self-authorised guardians of our national religion are the least disposed to hear with patience any remarks tending to the elucidation of the thiag. They appear intent upon building for religion a splendid mauso- leum into which the heavenly maiden may retire, and trouble them no more. Most of them would blush to be caught conversing with her, and accordingly they seldom expose themselves to the possibility of detection. They love her most enthusiastically — indeed^ she is their pet ward^ the protection of whom it would be shocking to leave to the capricious oj£ces of her own sincere votaries. But, then, the less they see of her the better. Should she venture to show herself in their assemblies, even when they deliberate upon her well-beiQg, she would be sneered at as an intruder. How many of our Christian senators evef deigned to look her in the face, or commune freely and intelligently with the object of their impassioned level In other words, out of the whole number of gentlemen who legislate for the Church, could fifty be found who have the slightest notion of what that thing is, which they regard themselves as commissioned to superintend 1 Princes in philosophy ! Wondrously saga- cious statesmen ! ever busying themselves about an object which they never tried to comprehend — foremen in a depart- ment the main design of which is a mystery as dark and impenetrable to them as the closest secrets of the natural world. Yet is religion not a name merely, but a thing — a definite, WHAT A STATE OHUBCH PBOFE88ES TO DO. 105 intelligible, infinitely important reality. It is man's loyalty to the Author of his being, or rather a return to loyalty &om insubordination and revolt. The word is significant. To be re-bound to the Supreme, to be ^t^^men, to come back to aUegicmce, to be in principle and in heart loyal (all of them kindred words) — ^this, we take it, is the meaning of religion. Men are religious when they habitually recognise and obey Divine authority. This being an afiair of the will, we have an idea that it must be brought about by persuasion. Loyalty is a matter of the heart, be it to a temporal or a spiritual monarch — a deep-seated principle, not an external act — a living power within, of which deeds are only the various modes of develop- ment. Blind or constrained loyalty are simple contradictions in terms. Men must be won to it — cannot be driven into it. To stick a form of compliment upon a man's memory, or make him utter it with his tongue, or force him to show himself in a court-house once a week to hear lectures upon loyalty, is not to make men loyal. They may be desperate traitors after all. Now our object is to ascertain, not whether a State Church can succeed in pasting a creed upon passive minds, or reading homilies in every parish to an assembled audience, but whether it is well adapted to win men back to loyalty to Heaven. That it is the duty of the State to provide religious instruction for the people, is a political axiom. It is no design of ours in the present place to question its truth. But, in the name of all that's manly, let us understand it. Let the dicta of the Duke of Wellington and the Bishop of Exeter, of Mr. Wakley and Colonel Sibthorpe, suffice for the truth of it. For the nonce we will consent to take it upon their eminently satisfiactory authority. We question not the divinity of the oracle, but we would &m know its meaning. These illustrious men are part and parcel of the State — ^and 1)06 WHAT A^ 9Dkm CHUBOH PBOFBSSBS TD'DO. if their utterances hav^^ in them a particle of sen^e, it amountB to this— that it is ihe duty of the assembled Wellingtons, Exeters, Waklejs and Sibthorpes, to devise in their wisdom suitable means for presenting that truth to the minds of British subjects, and for so presenting it as may appear to them best calculated to persuade the people to submit to the authority of Heaven— to convince them that it is their duty, to make them understand that it would be their happiness, to put themselves under Divine government, and in all cheerfulness and gladness of heart to serve the Author of their being — in one word, to see to it that there be through all the land a stated proclamation of such views of iite Highesty ofBLis rectitude aad clemency, of His power amd love, as may beget revermce, trust, submission, earnest fEttachment. The axiom means >this, or it means just nothing at alL The religious instn»stion is designed, as a matter of course, to awaken religious sentiment and feeling— in other words, as we have stated, to produce reverence, submission, trusty love. And. we are to understand that Wellington, Exeter, Wakley and Sibthorpey with their co-legislators, are commissioned to attend* to these matters — ^and to take it upcfn them as a solemn^ duty, to order sudi a system of means at the public expense as may result in the ^realisation of this great and important object. Now let our readers bear in mind the real question we have to decide. It is not whether loyalty to a heavenly, is coris^Gt the best guairanteef(^ loyalty to an earthly, govern- ment. It is neit whether religiotts instruction most or must not precede the;£[>rnitttion^'religi{ms principla It is just -diis-*- whether, an oorderof men, selected and amthorised by cfHT Wellingtons aaid Wakleys, and si^erted by funds paysJEile at timr demand^ and payakde only beoanse they 4eBWBd' them^ is likely^ to be the most' efficient instru- mentality to bring men back to their adkgianee to God. WHAT A STATE CHUECH PROFESSES TO DO. 107 We now understand what is the end sought — we are pretty well acquainted with the means employed. The point wo have to determine is, whether, as a mere matter of philo- sophy, the means are adapted to secure the end. This we shall proceed to examine. n. THE TWO 6SEAT VAMETIBS OF BELI6I0TJS TSSTRTJCnOS. The State piofusty regards it as a dntr to labour on behalf of Hearen, and to persuade its sabjects to recognise and obey Divine aotlioiitj — and the State undertakes to do this, as hr as it maj be done, hj providing for aQ dasses religioos insbuctuHL This is the diisd with whidi men's characters are to be hewn into shape hj the dvil powrar — the instra- ment whidi our Christian senatocs fed bound to purchase at anj cost, for fiwhioning men's hearts tovohmtaiy submission to the will of the Supreme; WeU ! let us look at it— at tiie thing itself we mean, not the mere name of it, for tiie same words may represent widdy different ideas. A thing may be called a spade whidi is of no use whateyer to turn the soil ; and men, transferring to the worthless artide all the ideas which its stolen name suggests, may argue, with no small show of reason, that every husbandman ought to have one — whilst all th^ mean, and all that they can make intd- ligible is, that every husbandman ought to possess a bond fide spade, called by whatever name ; and that, although every man in the kingdom agreed by a focetious fiction to call some other thing a spade, that other thing is not the one which his own reasoning proved the husbandman to want. So we may call the working of a certaru cumbersome, inefficient^ self-defeating apparatus^ religious instruction, and thence attach all the importance of the real thing to the YABIETIES OF BELIOIOUS IKSTRUCTIOK. 109 miserable substitute for it — and, should we be guilty of the purblind folly, we may urge just those reasons for -the adop- tion of it, which, in point of feet, prove that quite another thing than the misnamed one we have, is what the nation wants and what the State cannot provide. Now there are two great varieties of religious instruction, which we shall take leave to distinguish by the descriptive adjuncts of "mechanical" and "potential." Here is a certain truth A., which is to be conveyed into the mind of R, for the purpose of supplying him with sound motives to good conduct. The instrumental medium by which A. comes to be recognised by £., as a simple proposition which he did not previously know, we call " mechanical " instruc- tion. The truth is represented by certain forms or certain sounds — may be addressed either, to the eye or the ear — ^may be printed or pronounced. When B. has seen the letters or heard the words in which the proposition is done up, and through them discerns the idea which they were intended to represent — in short, when perception has formed acquaint- ance with the truth which rides into the mind upon visible or audible symbols, the work of " mechanical " instruction is done. But now, truth of any kind which is designed to move the heart, may acquire point and force from innu- merable adventitious circumstances, and may be the repre- sentative of a vast deal more than its own intrinsic importance. Coming as a messenger from a deep, sincere, and throbbing heart, it possesses an attribute of power which else did not belong to it. Words are but a channel by which what exists in one mind flows into another — and it makes all the difference whether the streams of instruction running through them be wholly transparent, or tinged with feeling. Light may beget light — ^but passion only can beget passion. When we see others moved, we are the mor I'eadily moved ourselves. It is important, in the last degree. 110 abat moi ahoold be pemiaded pnctialty to own alWigmiice to the Gbestor. The qnestiaiL is whether such persiMHixi is likfify to mult fiom the iim|ile meduadcal ezhibitioii of truth, apart fiom the chnaclery muLiveSy and oidinaiy oanduct of those wbaee bosmesB it is to present it; and wbeAer ^potential'' rdigioiis inslaniction — that is^ the leligioas inatmction idiieh is calcidated to tio what it prolcuoee to do, mnst not Teqniie tiiat the men who piuvjd& and who offer it; be m something like haxmonj with the object thej profess to seek. JEnoQfAi of dry metaphyBcal disqmsitian — let ns indn]fl& a moment er two in £mcy. Soppose somewhere out in Cnmbedand osr Cornwall, some trompeiy borongh had acquired an nnenyiable notorieiy for the lawlessnesB, igmxranoe, insabordination, and fiustions character of ito inhabltonts. Some one is sent down from Bnokingham Palace to represent the demands of the Grown, and to attempt by peaceable means, by reasoning with the men, by an address to all the Intimate motiyeB which prevail with the hmnan hearty to biing them into a state of quiet and cheerfdl sabordination to law and of social order. His sncoess is so great as to attract notice, and give him considerable influence orer the population. Forthwith the aldermen, bailiff and constables, as fractions rt^nes as the worst in the borongh, assemble and determioe that order is a most wholesome thing for society, and withont loyalty how can ovder be expected 1 — that it is part of their dniy to let every one within the limits of the borongh know what a good thing loyalty is, and what obH^tions all men are under to be loyal — ^that therefore they appoint so many of their runners to give the needful instruction, and insist upon. it that these runners should be paid by the inhabitants. Buppose, now, the shrewd denizens of this borough should perceive that it was no part of these men's plans to be loyal 'OF TOSUiOlOOB INSTBITCTIOK. I LI themseli^eB,- laid ihat the roimeni selected to persuade them to lo^ty weie never selected beeause they were known to he interested about'.^e object at-whidi theyprofessedtoaim^ hut rather with a. reference to other and very minor ends — such as &nuly connection, or pliant acquiescence in the will of their employers. We say nothing about the lessons of pplitiool morality which these runners might or might not enounce from day to day in the heacing of the inhabitants--^ but we do say, that the whole thing would be very likely t» wear the character of a hoax, and that the most perfect working of the system would not probably do much io restore order. The wonder would be how the sanctimonious aldermen could forbear laughter when they talked at their sederunt of the impoctence of loyalty, and professed to one another in the hearing of the whole borough the most imbounded confidence in, and most ardent attachment to^ that most valuable and loyal body, the runners — ^while perhi^s in the very utteranoe of the profession, they would looke some disrespectful, if not positively seditious, allusion to l&e Grown. Far be it from us to insimiate that there is the remotest resen^lanoe between these imaginary municipal efforts to ptoduce loyalty, and the efforts of owr State Chui-ch to promote religion — that the worthy aldermen may be r^jarded as types of our Qhristian legislators, or that their offioious runn^GQcs bear any likeness to our legislators' clergy. Wboii we wi^ is to illustrate that which we mean by " »ed>anical " instcuetion, and to show that it is just' pQtai)>le to psesent the purest truth to others, not only in sfich jnanner m not to semiFe success, but under ciroum* fltopoep whidbi are precisely caloulated to bring the trutk itself ;iiKU> th<»?ough contempt Yes ! thesce is a kind of religiow instruetian which, «o far jfrom farming the ohatacters of those who are the subjects 112 THB TWO GBEAT VARIETIES of it to spiritual loyalty, is sure to awaken just the opposite emotions. It is a skilful process of converting sacred truth into solid gold. Here is the mode in which it works. The land is parcelled out into parishes, and the creed into articles. The parishioners having too much by an exact tenth of worldly substance, and too little by a great deal of religious knowledge, it becomes a dear matter of expediency to relieve them of the one and communicate to them the other. A recipient of tithes is therefore appointed, whose duty consists fuUy as much in taking off the superfluity of temporal goods, as in imparting spiritual instruction. The characters of these media of exchange are of small import- ance — their chief function being to push that truth into the ear which might quite as advantageously have entered in at the eye — ^to be oral prayer-books and homilies — ^patent sermon-speaking machines, whose work is done when creeds and precepts have been made vocal, and who, for any per- suasive influence which goes forth with their words, might as well be brass pipes and leather bellows as living men. This kind of religious instruction the State can provido— but then there is not the smallest reason why men should be employed in the case, inasmuch as the same truth stamped on paper and posted in a conspicuous part of every parish might answer the same end and be a much cheaper method. We commend this idea to our pious legislators — ^it has several advantages. First, every parish might enjoy the benefit of the same homily, and thus the utmost uniformity of religious instruction might be ensured — secondly, church- building might be dispensed with. Further, the truth thus exhibited would not be discredited by any incongruities in the medium by which it would be put in contact with men's minds — and lastly, the parishioners might recur to "it again and again, and thus revive evanescent impressions. If it be the duty of the State to furnish nothing more than OF BELiaiOUS INSTRUCTION. 113 ^'mechanical" religious instruction, this seems to us to be as likely a plan as can possibly be devised. If it be objected that this mere mechanical exhibi^on of religious truth is not the thing meant, when the duty of the State to provide religious instruction for the people is affirmed, then it follows of necessity that the State is bound to furnish religious instruction through the medium of men whose lives will commend it — in other words, to furnish religious instructors whose sincerity, earnestness, contempt of the world, and evident submission to the authority of the Supreme, will imbue their instructions with persuasive influence, and qualify them to win by example those whom they cannot reach by argument or precept. This, then, is the sense of the oft-uttered maxim — >that certain men who make no pretence to religion, in as far, at least, as it consists in practical obedience to Divine authority, and who, when the laws of honour and the laws of their Maker come into collision, would deem themselves disgraced by sub- mitting to the latter, are no sooner invested with legislative authority, than they come at once under an obligation to provide the people with a body of instruotors whose uniform behaviour shall be such as to commend the truth which these very senators habitually violate, and win the people to a loyalty which these gentlemen contemn. This is a hopeful proposition to deal with — as curious a one as aristocracy ever uttered — ^pleasingly suggestive of odd and grotesque associations — full of startling meaning, which if not novel is amazingly piquant — a rich medley pie which contains a little of everything, and which, however nice, is decidedly indi- gestible — a compound of hurly-burly — ^the very quintessence of incongruity — the home of full-grown mental confusion. We will look at it again. III. THE STATE — ITS QUALIFICATIONS FOB PROVIDING RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. Given, the duty of some association to reduce men to voluntaxy subjection to Divine authority — ^given, that the only means to induce such subjection is suitable instruction, enforced by suitable men — ^it is required to find an agency well adapted to superintend the accomplishment of this object by the instrumentality of these means. Suppose, now, we summon into one assembly just six hundred and fifty-eight railroad directors, the qualifications of whom for oj£ce consist in the possession of a certain number of shares, together with the choice, by vote, of a majority of share- holders, to the trust of overlooking railroad interests — suppose, further, we should gather into a second committee every man in the kingdom who can prove himself to have inherited from his father a clear income of a plum a year. Were we then to arrange that every matter affecting the religion of the country should be separately submitted to these two bodies, and that some individual who might chance to be bom just one minute and a quarter before midnight on the third of September should be invested with power, and bound by oath, to carry the decisions of the two afore- mentioned committees into efiect — we should adopt means for effecting the end proposed about half as absurd as those which the wisdom of our legislators have devised. The arrangement might be open to a iew objections — and to these we deem ourselves bound in eriiity to listen. THE STATE — EELIGIOUS INSTRUCTIOK. 115 It might be urged, for instance, that the qualifications of a director for raikoad business have no conceivable relation to his fitness for superintending religion — ^that the possession by inheritance of a hundred thousand a year infers no com- petency to decide upon what is truth, and can add no emphasis to its authority — ^that even in cases in which both parties were agreed, negative being added to negative would amount to nothing — and that should both be constituted a board of health, although the interests involved would bo immeasurably inferior in importance, the qualifications of the men for oj£ce might be more safely presumed. Should it, however, be declared as an incontrovertible axiom never to be questioned, because not susceptible of rational doubt, that it is the duty of railroad directors, and of men in the enjoyment of a hundred thousand a year, to provide religious instruction for the people, there is of course an end of the matter — ^we must bow in blind obedience to what we cannot comprehend. Seriously, what do we mean by the State, and what are its peculiar qualifications for taking under its wing the Church of Christ? We are too apt to mystify ourselves with a fiction of our own fancy, and, under the name of " the State," to conjure up some awful power invested with authority in all matters in heaven above and on the earth beneath, and endowed with intelligence capacitating it to deal with all subjects, down from a turnpike trust, up to a solution of the problem, " What is truth 1 *' Now we must take leave, in a matter of such vast moment, to dispel thefe pleasing illusions j to consider the State as certain combined associations of men — ^not always the best nor yet the wisest of our race — ^to examine how it comes to pass that they obtain legislative power, and to see whether the process by which they pass out of individual privacy into public office and responsibility is likely to fit them for the management IIG THB 8TATB — ^FTS QUALIFICATIONS FOB of spiritual affairs. This we will do with the utmost brevity consistent with the (dear elucidation of the matter. A State, then, maj be regarded as an organ for the expression of a nation's will, in matters afiecting the safely of their propeirty and persons, or, as some would assert (and we shall not stay to dispute upon the propriety of the defini- tion) in all that relates to the temporal welfare of the com- munity. The constittLtion of it in our own country is mixed, power being Tested in ike monarch, the peers, and the representatires of the people. The whole machinery is put together for civil purposes, altogether irrespectively of the relation which its several parts may bear to the spiritual kingdom of Christ. The materials of which it is composed are selected for th^ supposed fitness to work out certain temporal results, and not at all on account of their accord- ' ance with the higher claims of Christianity. It is a purely secular power set up fot sectlJar ends — and the chances that the component members of it shall be competent to superin- tend religious instruction, are not a whit more numerous than they would be in the supposed case of railroad directors, and heirs to a hundred thousand a year. To begin with the House of Commons. Each member must possess (with exceptions which it is needless to specify) three hundred pounds a year, at least, in land — ^must take certain oaths having about as much reference to their fitness for the functions they undertake, as if they swore implicit faith in the doctrine of gravitation — and must be elected to office by the majority of some legal constituency. The result is an aggregate body of gentlemen called honourable, the sons of peers or near relations — lawyers and stockbrokers — country gentlemen and bankers — ^fortunate speculators and (rari aves) successful gamesters— rich manufacturers, Indian nabobs, soldiers and seamen, with here and there a philosopher. All the varieties of creed may find their PROVIDING RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 117 abettors in this assembly,, and every commandment of Heaven, saving that which says, " Thon shalt not steal,'^ its violators, without disqualifying them for the exercise of legislative authority. They are chosen without the smallest reference to religion — gathered from all classes but the poor — ^brought together from all quarters, and selected of every shade of character, from the roii^ to the devotee — and being associated together in one body, they forthwith undertake to construct and work an apparatus of means, having for its object, to persuade all the subjects of the realm to revere, love, obey, and confide in God. Now, we will not say whether or no these men are duly qualified for what they undertake, but we verily believe that on a comparison of the two bodies, the railroad directors would have the advantage. We come then to the peers. We are not disposed to gainsay the indisputable testimony of history, that when the Norman conqueror had succeeded by dint of fire and murder in despoiling the occupants of this land of their possessions, he gave to his accomplices in the work of destruction the estates which he had seized, and conferred on them most of the privileges of nobility. His successors added to the number of these worthies, and usually promoted to distinc- tion the most successful soldiers. Of late, additions have been made to them from the ranks of civilians, and the eldest male descendants of the body thus created, wear the title and enter upon the functions of their ancestors. These illustrious personages become legislators, for the Church of Christ, by birth — and because they can trace descent from this warrior or that diplomatist, they come under obligation to provide religious instruction for the people — and make them pay for it. We shall not presume to scan the characters of the members of this body, as they ordinarily appear to the public eye. They may be good or bad, wise or foolish. All that it concerns us to notice is, that the religion 118 1HB sxAix^sKUGHMrs u i Bimumi og. of the pei^ife is entnuied to tlieir handfl^ tamptj fonismach as thej were bon under such and sach Gucmiistanoea. What thej bdiere, or wliat thej do, is held to be nothing whatever to the p uipuee. They ma j be infidds in creed and profligates in mords, bat thej are none the less qualified to watch oTer the rdigion of the conntzT. Of rojahy we need not qpeak further than this — that the thnme is hereditaiyy and maj be oociqiied without in the smallest d^iee affecting the title of its poaBesaor, bj the best or the worst of men, the most religious or the most pro&ne — bj an Alfred or a Henry the Eighth, by an infimt or a Greoige the Fourth. This, then, is the State. Conjointly, the duty devolves upon these powers to diffuse and prtanote sound religious instructkm — ^to decide upon articles of fiuth — to furnish pious teachers, and to induce men to show that loyalty to Heaven which themsehres are at liberty to cultivate or to spurn, without affecting tlieir fitness for office. We shall see now what effects religious instruction thus superintended is likely to produce. IV. THE SELF-IMPOSED DUTY OF THE STATE. Patience, gentle readers, and we shall presently get under way. We are about to heave up the sheet-anchor, which haying been done, we shall hoist sail, and make all possible haste to port. We have seen what religion is — in other words, the end which a State Church is set up to accomplish. We have handled and inspected the instru- ment by which this important object is to be effected — religious instruction. We have examined the character and pretensions of the State regarded as the main agent engaged in superintending the work. We have now only to discuss the question of duty, and we shall have arrived at a satis- factory understanding of the theorem, that "it is the duty of the State to provide religious instruction for its subjects." In all matters of dispute, a clear view of the meaning of terms tends to abridge subsequent discussion; and first principles being settled in the outset, both parties may proceed without interruption. That parental jurisdiction should be exercised by the State over its subjects — ^that, convinced itself of the value of religion, it should train up its children to spiritual loyalty — ^that, stretching in its generosity beyond the direct purposes for which it exists, it should aim to mould the hearts as well as regulate the conduct of the people — and that, in fdrtherance of so subHme an end it should station the heralds of truth over the land in all its lengths and 120 THE SELF-IMPOSED DUTY OP THE STATE. breadths, is a scheme which carries upon the face of it such a profession of kindliness and piety, that it can hardly be wondered at if it be fondly hailed as an angel of light, and if men unaccustomed to look into the heart of things imagine they discover in it all the simplicity of truth and all the majesty of unmistakeatle wisdom. But the thunder- cloud, charged with the elements of destruction, will some- times catch and reflect the golden beams of the setting sun ; and men gaze with admiration upon that which should awaken their fears. When the duty of the State to provide religious instruc- tion for its subjects is asserted, another and yet more questionable maxim is involve4. For authority must be vested somewhere, to decide upon the proper articles of faith. The opinions entertained as to what is truth and what error, are various and discordant. Some men implicitly believe that " religious instruction " must be confined to the lying impostures of the Arabian heresiarch. Some find their religion in the Shasters. One nation adopts a multi- tude of deities; another recognises only one. Trinity in unity is a fundamental tenet of this party ; whilst that holds the doctrine to be absurd. It being the boimden duty of the magistrate to provide religious instruction for the people, it is evident that some party or other must determine what is to be taught and what is to be withheld. Somebodjr's duty it must be to decide upon the national creed. That creed is furnished for us, it may be said, in the word of God. True ! but which is the word of God, and what is the true interpretation thereof! On these questions there is a multitude of conflicting opinions. They cannot all be taught. Who shall select the articles of faith ? la that the proper business of the majority of the nation? Then the proposition may be thus expressed : " It is the THE' SELP-mPOSED DUTY OF THE STATE. 1^1 bounden duty of eveay government to provide for the instruction of its subjects in those articles of faith which shall have been determined upon by a national majority. Accordingly in Spain it is the duty of the magistrate to inculcate subjection to the Koman Pontiff. In Turkey, the government is bound to provide for the instruction of its subjects in the doctrines of the Koran. In England, it might, in one century, be obligatory on the Legislature to decree the support of the Calvinistic theology ; in the next, of the Arminian. But some of these systems of religion are fetlse ; the maintenance of them must in consequence bo opposed to the will of God ; and thus the proposition con- ducts us to this curious conclusion — ^that under certain cir- cumstances it is the duty of the government to oppose itself to the will of the Governor of the Universe. Or is the power of selecting the credenda of the nation * to he vested in the civU magistrate ? Suppose the delicate task to be entrusted to the superior wisdom of the govern- ment. The question then occurs, Is it the duty of the people to receive and embrace the religious instruction afforded them by the State ? It is or it is not. If it be "iwt, then the axiom forces upon us the conclusion — ^that imder some circumstances it is the duty of the government to exercise a power which it is not the duty of its subjects to obey, or, in other words, which it is the duty of its subjects to resist. If it be the duty of the people to embrace the articles of faith determined upon by the government, then in Spain it is the duty of every indi- vidual to believe in transubstantiation, penance, purgatory, and the absolute infallibility of the Roman Church, which doctrines it is the duty of every individual in England to re» nounoe. What an interesting round of duties may we imagine the inquisitive and adventurous traveller to run, under an obligation to suit his creed to the authorised creed of every 122 THX SSLF-IXPOeED DUTY OF THE STATE. goyemment to which in his rambles he maj become subject. Such is the precious result of this proposition. In yain is the assertion qualified by declaring that the religious instruction which it is the dut^ of the government to provide for its subjects must be in accordance with the truth of Scripture. The question will return again and again, What is truth? and who is the judge that shall decide the question ? Where is the ultimate appeal 1 Whether it be in the majority of the nation, or in the government itself, we are involved by the axiom in the most ridiculous absurdities. Nor does the toleration of all opinions extricate us from perplexity : for if it be the duty of any government to provide religious instruction for its subjects, its power to determine upon the opinions to be taught, and to maintain a body of clergy to propagate such Opinions, must be exercised with a view to the natioi^al welfare. But if the national wel&re is concerned in the promulgation of such and such opinions, why tolerate those which are destructive of them 1 " This," says an able writer in "Tait's Magazine," "is first to erect the most stupendous of powers for the most transcendent of ends, and then to concur in its downfall ; as if the motive to its construction were the blindest of impulses, and the firus- tration of its object a pastime or a triumph. It is the bootless ingenuity of children — all anxiety in building a castle of cards, and the moment it is built, all impatience to pull it to pieces again. It is to intend the salvation and achieve the perdition of souls. It is as the mercy of Heaven and the malice of demons. A purpose all good and a connivance all eviL It is a compound of elaborate contraries, part of iron and part of clay, combined into one monstrous, impossible, and self-destroying whole. It is, in one word, the portentous contradiction of declaring that it is necessary and j€b not necessary to set up the particular THE SELF-IMPOSED BUTY OP THE STATE. 123 worship in favour with the civil ruler — necessary, as afford- ing the only effectual way to salvation ; and not necessary, because there are other effectual ways. Here, then, is our question, — If the former, why tolerate 1 If the latter, why ESTABLISH?" Power, then, to provide for the religious instruction of the people necessarily supposes power likewise to determine upon the class of doctrines to be taught. This is most assiduously thrown into the shade by the advocates of the proposition now imder discussion. The term "religious instruction " is vague and indistinct as term can be. What is the precise signification attached to it? Suppose the government of this coimtry to be Koman Catholic, would it be their bounden duty to support the ministers and difiuse the doctrines of Romanism in opposition to the national will? If so, what can justify the Revolution of 1688 ] Or are all governments connected with the Church of Rome placed beyond the limits of the proposition? It is the duty of every government to make provision for the religious instruction of its subjects. The government of James the Second felt this obligation, and deeming the doctrines and discipline of Rome to be "the truth," they aimed to bring about its establishment in this coimtry. In so doing the chief magistrate was expelled the kingdom. Was this right or was it wrong? K wrong, the advocates of this theory must look upon ijie line of Brunswick as usurping a throne which a nation had no right to bestow. If it was right to compel the abdication of James, what is the ground of the country^s justification? According to the proposition under discussion it was the dtUy of James as magistrate to provide religious instruction for his sub- jects j thus fjBUP they will acquit him of all blame. His fault must then have been that he sought to establish a creed ioJiich the Tntyority of his nation renotmeed. But does this 124 THE SELF-IMPOSED DUTY OP THE STATE. justify revoliition 1 Why then these same Churchmen -would approve of a revolution in Ireland, for there the magistrate is doing that for which James vras punished with the loss of his throne — namely, forcing a religion upon an Tin- willing nation. We come, then, to the conclusion that what is meant by the proposition is, that it is the bounden duty of every government to provide for the instruction of its subjects in the doctrines and discipline of the Church of England. This is a much more intelligible dogma, but surely we cannot be expected to receive it as an axiom. Such is this jumble of contradictions which ecclesiastical authorities have crammeS down a nation's throat as infallible truth. Every aspect of it has now been considered save one only. It may be contended that the end in view and admitted to be desirable can only be efficiently promoted by the agency of the State, and that consequently the duty of the State springs out of its adaptation to secure this end. This we now propose to discuss ; and we shall attempt to show that the State never can succeed, by means of its alliance with the Church, in promoting the real religion of its subjects. V. THE DISADVANTAGE OF STEREOTYPED DOCTRINE. National creeds remind us of plaster-of-paris busts — once cast they remain unchanged and unchangeable until broken to pieces. They may have been originally beautiful or ugly — ^beautiful we mean in the eyes of those who saw them in all the freshness of their novelty. At best they are but rigid images of Divine truth, without life, without ex- pression ; but when the dust of ages has settled upon their protuberant features, or the smears of some later workman, anxious to improve upon the original, shade and embrown them in unsightly patches, they answer very indifferently the purpose of presenting at one view the charms of Christianity. If theology be a science (and who will dispute it), it should grow. Its primary features, it is true, will remain through all time the same ; so will those of the infant bom but yesterday. But to the eye of society Christianity will, in the lapse of ages, be more fully developed ; and if it has hitherto made small progress in this way, the reason must be sought not in any want of vitality in it, but in the restrictions and old-womanish bandages of State-appointed creeds and formularies. The infont was vigorous enough during the first three centuries : nobody was alarmed by any appearances of permanent deformity. But ever since Constantine's day, the nurses of the Church have insisted 126 THE DISADYANTAGE OF 8TERE0TTPED DOCTRIKB. upon forcing upon it pads, support, and cripple-irons^ afraid to leave its own nature to posh itself unassisted to maturity, lest its head should be awry and its limbs twisted out of their proper shape and proportions. There would seem to be no method of displayiug this foU^ in its ridiculous absurdity but by showing its operatioiT under some imaginary aspect. Take, then, the following illustration. Chemical science, it will be readily admitted, is second in utility to none in the whole range of natural philosophy. Agriculture and the manufactures owe their advancement to their present state of perfection mainly to its discoveries. Our post of superiority in the commercial world could not have been attained without its valuable aid. It has multi- plied the conveniences of life. It has furnished us with means for prolonging it. It has beautified our dwellings from the palace to the cottage. It has added incalculably to our resources. Happily it has escaped the meddling inter- ference of statesmen, and has consequently prospered. But suppose it had been otherwise- Suppose that upon the explosion of alchemy, and the establishment of chemistry upon the solid basis of inductive philosophy, certain leading doctrines of the science, agreed upon by the experimentalists of the day, had been honoured with the patronage of Government. Suppose a manual of chemistry to have been drawn up and circulated through the land, an unfeigned assent and consent to all and every part of which should have constituted the unalterable condition of admis- sion to our Universities, and to every State and corporate office. Add a body of ten thousand men, sworn to maintain the system in which they had been instructed, to teach no other doctrines, to acknowledge no further discovery which might by possibility militate against the authorised creed. Pay them liberally ; give them a place in the councils of the THE DISADVANTAGE OF STEHEOTYPED DOCTBINE. 127 nation j make it tbeir interest to keep the science in sUxtu quo — and you have the establishment of chemistry. Could any plan be devised by the skill of man more effectually to stay the progress of the science] What motive would be left to succeeding philosophers to pursue their inquiries beyond the limits marked out for them by law] What hope of pushing their investigations to a successful issue, compelled as they would be to start fix)m a false principle ] What reward could be expected to crown the labours of that man, who by persevering and inde fatigable research should acquire a knowledge of laws till then unheard of, but the charge of innovation and heresy, yelped by ten thousand scientific placemen whose emolu- ments were in danger % Every avenue but one to honour- able distinction in this department of philosophy would be closed. Every inducement to independent inquiry would be wanting. Every obstacle would be thrown in its way. Curiosity, with which the Creator has beneficently endowed our race — the germ of all improvement, the mainspring of the mental apparatus, would be a useless and dangerous attribute of man, in the field of chemistry. Disdaining coercion, and prevented by social and legal restraints from indulging, in this direction, its own native tendencies, it would seek another — haply, a less useful — sphere, in which it might breathe freely, and disport itself unnnnoyed by the clamour of paid and interested partisans. The science would be suffocated by the officious embraces of the State. Now, it clearly belongs to the advocates of a religious Establishment to show ^why theology alone, in the whole circle of sciences immeasurably the most important, should be thus degraded. Is the field of revelation less extensive than that of nature] Is there less scope here for the vigorous exercise of the intellectual fiiculties ] Are the laws of tl e spintual world so much better known than th^'^^« of 128 THE DlBADYAJSrtAQIt OF 8TEBE0TTPBD DOCTBIKE. \ the material, em) much more easily determined upon, so Utile liable to be mistaken, as te render patient, assiduous, and independent inquiry useless? Is religion less important than chemistry] Are the interests of men less closely identified with a correct knowledge of the doctrines of Christianity, than of the laws of Mechanics? Why is the mind of man, firee to roam over all the diversified regions of science, to put on fetters immediately upon entering the domains of Divine truth ? Why are its aspirations heaven- ward to be made, like the wings of the chained eagle, a useless encumbrance ? Are the tendencies of man to pursue • flpiritual inquiries so overpowering that they need the whole weight of an Establishment to counteract them ? Is there any wisdom, any propriety, any political seemliness, in pre- venting the growth of religious knowledge, and the correct formation of religious sentiment, by bandaging up the .national mind with (^eedsend formularies? We pause for a reply. We uak what peculiarity there is in theological science which renders it expedient to hedge it about with articles, when every other science, natural and moral, is left, with the consent of all parties, to stand or fall by its own .merits. The study of truth revealed in Scripture, constitutes the noblest exercise of our intellectual powers. A world is therein thrown open to our research teeming with the richest, the fullest, the most vajried and impressive illustra- tions of the Divine character. The phenomena of that world, so far as they come under our inspection, require in their investigation the nicest care, the utmost simplicity of spirit, the cordial love of truth for its own sake, and the most determined resolution to follow where it leads. If ever, in the pursuit of knowledge, it be necessary to divest the mind of prejudice, to remove from the judgment every possible temptation to be led astray by passion, and to THE DISADVANTAGE OF STEBEOTYFED DOCTRINE. 129 cultivate that childlike meekness of spirit which listens only to understand, which understands only to obey, most assuredly it is here. And can anything be more monstrous than for statesmen to prescribe, to interpret, to patronise jhere — and chain down the mind to authorised creeds, and offer bribes to conscience, and attempt to sway, by appealing to interested motives, the decisions of mankind 1 Is it not appalling, that in religion the interference of governments should be tolerated with indifference, and even vociferously applauded, when in natural science it would be scouted with indignation? Are we to be slaves of system where we ought to be most free ? tempted to take our knowledge at second hand, where anxious examination and diligent inquiry constitute our most sacred obligation] degraded for our independence, where implicit Mth is at onoe dangerous and criminal 1 What could we expect from such a daring violation of the freedom of mind but ignorant and servile credulity on the one hand, or empty formality and loath- some hypocrisy on the other 1 VI. COMPOUND SUBTRACTION BY SIMPLE ADDITION. "Go to, sirrah," said Jack Cade to Stafford, "go to, idrrali : tell the king from me that for his £a,ther's sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time boys went to span-counter for French crowns, I am content, he shall reign ; but Til be protector over him.*' This is rich enough, in all con- science — ^but our legislators outdo this a long way. They are content that the Bible should be the supreme authority in matters ecclesiastical, but then they will be protectors over it — stamp it with their sanction — cover its weakness with their strength — ^hide its defects with the mantle of their patronage — and condescendingly give it importance in the eyes of the people by declaring it to be their protege. They are the veritable Jack Cades of the Church — uttering the same boast, and acting the same part in religious affaii's, which the Kentish rebel did, in Richard the Second's time, in affairs purely civil. The effect, too, is much the same — ^it is just of a piece with that which would result from the testimony of one of the swell- mob in favour of an honest man — it brings under suspicion what, until tliey meddled with it, could appeal to its own character and secure an honourable verdict. We have an authorised translation of the Bible, and authorised articles of faith ; we have authorised sacraments, and an authorised system of discipline— and we have in COMPOUND SUBTRACTION. • 131 addition to all an authorised clergy. Upon every matter involved in religion, Government lias put its mark, and affixed its label, "None others are genuine." Now the doctrines and ceremonies thus honoured may be true or false — about that we do not contend. Our inquiry touches the wisdom of giving to them a practical influence by such means. We wish to ascertain whether what is authoritative in itself acquires additional authority, whether what is venerable secures additional veneration, by this legislative patronage — and whether the custom is not " More hojioured in the breach than the observance.'* A system of truth designed to shape the character, may be presented to the mind in two ways — it may be gently insinuated, or it may be directly commanded. The first method calls attention to the truth — the last awakens inquiry into the authority imposing it. A man wishes to dispose of his daughter in marriage. Does he modestly remark upon her virtues, and mildly hint his wishes, the party addressed forgets the speaker and begins to observe the fair one spoken of. But should he, imitating our wise and philosophic rulers, insist in a tone of command that his friend shall wed her, her charms would be overlooked, and the first question in reply would be, " Who are you, sir ? " Our legislators, burning with natural and pious zeal to marry Christianity to ;the people — at least, a certain form of Chris- tianity which they declare to be apostolical — have adopted the latter mode ; and to commend their wisdom still more highly, have likewise fixed the dowry which the people shall in this case give ; and the consequence is, that Christianity bears the reproach which belongs to her professed guardian — is neglected, abused, and treated with contempt — while by far the greatest earnestness evinced by the people in the matter is to obtain from Parliament a satisfactory answer to 132 COMPOUNt) SUBTBACnOir • the question, "Who are you? and by what authority doest thou these things 1 '' As no information on this point can be elicited from the ruling powei-s, save such as may be gleaned from pompous inanities and ridiculous assumptions, it is but natural that the people should proceed to judge for themselves. They are not without ample materials. The personal habits, the social laws, and the public deeds, of the men composing our legislative bodies are matters which almost every newspaper thrusts before their observation. Their intellectual calibre^ taking the class as a whole, is found to be not so great as to inspire all other classes with reverential awe. The code of honour by which they are ruled visits dishonesty with no penalty, brands a violation of domestic ties with no disgrace, upholds and sanctions murder. They are men tolerably well known to be addicted to pleasure — ^not remarkably careful in regard to morals— often profane — generally inattentive to the claims and duties of the Sabbath — almost universally contemners of that kind of Christianity which a Paul or a John explained and exemplified. All this is perfectly well understood. To do the men justice, they pretend to no higher character. There is no mistaking tiem, therefore; and perhaps there is no man in the kingdom who, if asked in what quarter of society the best specimens of religion are to be found, would dream, in his wildest moments, of pointing to our Houses of Parliament. Well, these gentlemen, out of pure regard for the people, and acting out implicitly the dictates of conscience, take "the purest form of Christianity" under their protection, and authorise it as genuine, and command the people to revere it. What is the natural consequence 1 The protege, if looked at at all, is looked at through its self-constituted protectors — its benevolence is seen through the stained glass of their BY SIMPLE ADDITION. 133 selfishness — its importance, of their negligence — its purity, of their licentiousness. Christianity in their hands becomes like the maxims of wisdom in the mouth of a fool — like lessons of chastity when uttered by an immodest woman. The disrespect entertained towards the speaker is transferred to the thing spoken. If what they thus commend, or rather enforce, upon the consciences of the people, be received, it is received with the conunent of their lives as the interpreta- tion — ^if rejected, it is rejected on the ground of the worth- lessness of their authority. They daub religion with their dirty patronage ; and having, in the estimation of the multitude, assimilated it to themselves, they lower its pre- tensions and debase its character, until it is embraced as a thing of easy virtue, or repelled as an imposture and a lie. There can be but one philosophical explanation of their conduct. They may imagine religion to be best administered on the homoeopathic system, in doses infinitesimally small — and that it acts most potently upon vulgar hearts when given with a large admixture of their own worldliness — one drop of pure Christianity with a wineglassful of parliament water, " before taken, to be well shaken." History proves that our legislators thrust tlieir hatefid services upon religion, not from any concern to her, but simply from an eager desire to obtain through the use of her name an ample dowry. Within a few years they legis- latively, to save the property, repudiated Romanism, then turned off Protestantism, and took back the creature they had denounced as " a withered and filthy hag/' then divorced her again and associated themselves with Prelacy, her daughter. We see no sort of reason why they should not establish the religion of the false prophet of Mecca ; and, we dare to 4say, no more do they, if by adoptiog it as the national faith they could make it pay more handsomely. The whole thing is a grand humbug, to use their own most 134 COMPOUND SUBTRACTION. elegant phraseology; and the nauseous hypocrisy with which some of them talk of their fears that Christianity could never be sustained by the Voluntary principle, must surely disgust even themselvea If wit of man were taxed to devise means by which what is majestic in religion should be made to appear con- temptible — what is lovely, odious — ^what is sweet, sour and offensive— we know nothing which could be hit upon so certain of answering the end, as putting it under the special patronage of our civil rulers. In their own sphere, in temporal matters, they have no superfluous respect to lose ; but in spiritual things their friendship and patronage are the surest pledges of ruin ; and whatever they touch, they invariably defile. VII. THE CURE OF SOULS— PROPERTY. " Misery makes us * acquainted with strange bedfellows," is a proverb not more trite than true. Equally indisputable is the fact that custom reconciles us to strange inconsistencias. We, whose lot is cast in these times, have been so schooled in modem ecclesiastical phraseology that we cease to regard it as singular ; we use it, as we do most other conventional modes of speech, without taking note of its significant im- port. But should some illustrious saint of the. apostolic age revisit our world in these days of enlightenment, it would be 'interesting to speculate upon the train of reflection to which many of our Church terms would probably give rise in his mind. Were he to take up some book on ecclesiastical polity, or glance his eye over an ordinary visitation charge, there can be but little doubt that the first result of his, reading would be perplexity. Much that he met with would be to him unintelligible. He would find terms employed and well understood by most modem readers so peculiar, so widely differing from those used in primitive times to express the same meaning, that there is some pro- bability they might conduct him to amusing conclusions. In his day they who exercised the pastoral functions over a specific church, were said to be overseers of the fioch ; in the ecclesiastical phraseology of the Establishment, such men are said to be the incumbents of a benefice, to have a living. The meaning of these terms we shall suppose our ancient 136 ZHB cms or boclb — fmomrr. Christian to baye, with some labour, at last made out. The- oontrast between the two modes of expression would natnially open to him a £ur field of specolation. " There must \» some meaning in this,'' we may imagine our apostolic fiiend to surmise : **such singular {^iraaeologv must be significants An eminent lawyer or a successful physician (no matter how he came by the information) is said to have extensiTe practice ; a tradesman to have a laige business^ or plenty to do ; 2k minister of the Church to have a living. In the one case the idea of labour is suggested ; in the other case, of enjoyment. Whence this application of terms so apparently incongruous % " He finds, as he proceeds, that this relation between a pastor and his flock, which is termed a living^ is spoken of as in the gift of individuals called patronSy and that the man entering into this relation is said to have been presented to a living, "What then," we may suppose lym to exclaim, " is it possible that the Church, which used to be considered a field of labour, is now r^arded as a portion to be enjoyed ? Can it be that in selecting a term descriptive of the most important and responsible of connections, regard was had solely to the temporal benefits resulting to the pastor from such a connection? Must I understand that the most prominent feature of the value of the pastoral relation is the living of the minister? The souls of men ure perishing for lack of knowledge ; the bread of life is committed for distribution to a large niunber of agents set apart for this benevolent purpose, and when the duties of these agents are to be condensed into one single expression, for the sake of avoiding circumlocution, we are told that they have *a living,* a term suggesting not a single idea, respecting the flock which is to be fed, nor the exertions to be made, nor the responsibility to be borne, but simply of worldly goods to be received. And such are the various cognate terms. Surely these expressions, ' benejice, living/ THE CUBE OP SOULS — PEOPERTT. 137 and the like, are not intended to denote the end to be accomplished by a tie so sacred as that which links the people with their minister. Clergymen who insist upon their ^rights* and their ^interest* cannot be referring to •filthy lucre/ *To be presented to a living' never could be intended to mean being helped to an income. * To have the gift of a living ' was never meant to be understood in the carnal and the worldly sense which such phraseology would seem to render necessary." Here we may imagine the good man to pau^e, frightened at the conclusions to which his speculations are hurrying him forward. He looks about him for a more pleasing explanation of this mysterious choice of terms by the Church. " I have it," we may suppose him to exclaim at last, transported as the philosopher when he solved the problem of specific gravity — " I have it ; my eyes are opened, and a glorious prospect bursts upon me! These terms, I doubt not, are metaphorical — ^are intended to show the value which men set upon the work of the ministry, and the cheerful zeal with which the clergy pursue the salvation of men. They enter upon a sphere of arduous exertion and solemn responsibility. More worldly men than they might call it the post of labour. But such is their love for the work that the idea of labour is forgotten — their duty is their delight ; and as in our day we identified the two ideas of martyrdom and victory, which at first glance appear irreconcileably opposed, so, doubtless, these good men consider a life set apart entirely to God in the work of the ministry as that which alone deserves the name of a living ; and what more grovelling minds would speak of as entering upon the field of conflict and exfertion, the Church in the present day elevates into the idea of being the incumbent of a benejice. They speak of * vested rights ' and ' interests ' in reference to their duties, not their l;Ss$ TBX cm or socu — noKm. esnolameniaL Tlte cerms whien. imack of this worid sre not to be cakea in their camsil seiLse. Oh. gloriovs end ! Oh, beautzfol rvsxlt of nacioiLftl E^raoISh mentg ! "^ Soppcuse ii<?w some soich. piitiwpe as the foUowingy from a charge deliTervd bj one of oar m!i»G reqwctaUe biahopa, should meet his eje : — ^ Y*.hl Kvqriiie not to be infoimed that zKLoce than one-half oi the p«roch£iI boiefices ci lg»glM»*l and Wales are in the gifh of priTate patronsy and that ad- Tow^sons and next presentations are firequenthr bought and st>ld. Whether such purchases and sales ought ever to have been allowied. I shall not now inquire. Ther do take place, and are recognised bj law. Am adv»y%cmn% is pr o p er ty r ^* Methinksy'' our visitant might prc^xerij reflect, ^* these people go too fiir in their love oi met^^hor — their figuieB are too bold. To have the ri^t of presenting a pastor to a flock — to haxe acquired, bv what means I cannot even guesB at« the advantage over others c^ power to satisfy the wants of the people bv introducing among th^oi a fidthfol sh^herdy may perhaps be esteemed a pricilf^y but surelj it is out of taste to call it jMroperti^. " An advowson ' is ' a right to present to a benefice,* and • pffopMtr ' is * right of possession,' or 'possession held in one's own ri^t' ; and Ihe genuine meaning of this sentence, ^An adrowson is property,' maj be thus stated, ' Every man may do what he will with his own.' In a medical establishment, should people ever be sufficiently befooled to tolerate one, an advowson would mean the right of disposing of an hospital of invalids to the highest bidder, to be experimented upon in that whidi relates to their health just as his ignorance or caprice may dictate. In a religious Establishment it must be a right to deliver over the spiritual and eternal wel&re of, possibly, five or ten thousand souls to the watchful care of some aristocratical booby, or gay sporting and swearing Lothario, if such be the patron's good pleasure. 'Have you an THE CURE OF SOULS — PROPERTY. 139 advowson to i^art with, or a next presentation 1 I wish to buy my son a congregation/ Can this be the way in which bargains of this kind are effected 1 Here are men meeting in the market-place, and tinder the protection of law are buying and selling the spiritual interests of a whole parish, and we are gravely informed that * an advowson is property,' in other words, the religious concerns of some hundreds of souls are as much a man's own, may belong to the infidel and the worldly just on the same footing as his sheep and bullocks. * Get thee behind me, Satan, for thou savourest not of the things which be of God, but of those which be of men.' " Thus saying, our imaginary friend disappears in a sunbeam. The reader, we trust, will bear with us. The supposed adventure we have above described, contains a moral of no trifling significance. We are considering the ends which a State Church has a natural and necessary tendency to sub- serve. We believe it will ever be found that a legal pecuniary provision for the performance of certain duties, irrespectively of the fitness for office of the party receiving it, will in no lengthened period of time insure the attachment of higher importance to the good to be enjoyed than the labour to be done. That such has been the case in our own Establish- ment, the very phraseology to which we have adverted is ample proof. Through this crack the truth undesignedly leaks out, that the main object thought of in our National Church is not due provision for the flock but for the clergy. And they being in most instances nominees of the aris- tocracy, we are taught to account for the extraordinary zeal exhibited by our legislators in all ecclesiastical affairs. They obtain a substantial quid pro quo. There is a vast difference between giving pay to duty and giving duty to pay. The first arrangement involves the necessity of obtaining as large an amount of labour as the salary will admit of; the last, as little labour as the salary 140 THll CURE OP SOUM — PROPERTY, will require. The one puts duty first ; the other, pay. The former may sometimes unreasonably contract the stipend ; the latter invariably cuts down employment to the lowest amount demanded by law. The history of our Establish- ment is but a continuous series of illustrations of this last remark. Its tendency has ever been to seek an augmenta- tion of revenues, and silently to reconcile with law a diminution of responsibilities. Upon the pecuniary side there is a perpetual encroachment ; upon the labour side> as regular a falling away. The zeal of the clergy seldom adds to what they have to do — always adds to what they have to gain. And it is not a little curious that in the storms and troubles of the Church, when danger impends over her, and alarm for her safety smites the hearts of her children — it is very curious that that is always considered the proper time "to speak out " on the question oi property. " The Church is hi danger!" The watchword flies through the kingdom, and up start her sons in her defence. Their zeal is inflamed — their courage is excited — invincible determination begins to manifest itself in the camp of the Church militant ; and it is right that it should be so. But then when, according to their representation, truth and religion are ready to expire, they are coimting their gold and amusing us with histories of ecclesiastical revenues. "The Church !" they shout, and we see them defending nothing but their income, " A crisis is arrived — a crisis in the spiritual interests of the world ! " — and they occupy themselves in proving that their property is sacred. This is a singular chapter in Church history, and might lead some arrogant upstarts, who will be wise above what is written, to infer that "Church," translated into vernacular language, means * " livings," " golden stalls," " episcopal revenues," and the like. Perhaps, however, the upstarts might not be far from truth. vni. PRIESTISM. Few words will suffice to put us in possession of the whole mystery of priestism. It is the first-bom child of worldliness and hypocrisy. The end of its being is wealth and power; the means by which it works are religious pretences. It is a natural, perhaps, we may add, a necessary ally of aristocracy. It is spiritual machinery constructed to work out temporal ends. It is in exact contrast with true religion. The aim of the latter is to make the present subservient to the future ; the former uses the future with a view to the present. The scope of the one is beyond the limits of time; that of the other within them. Religion teaches us to make the world a stepping-stone to heaven ; priestism makes heaven a stepping-stone to the world. Priestism shows itself under three different aspects accord- ing to the several stages of its development. Its natural growth is after this order — ^wealth first, then security, and in its matured manhood absolute supremacy. They whose business it is to interpret to their fellow- men the will of the Creator, whose profession is supposed to put them in close and frequent contact with the invisible, whose lives are thought to have been spent in exploring the awful arcana of another world, and who assume to guide the iguorant to immortality, neces- sarily acquire an influence over the mind more authoritative than any other which man can wield on earth. This 142 PRiEsmsx. inflnenoe, syBtematicallj employed to obtain wealth, is priestism in the freshness of its youth. The scene of its operations must of necessity be laid in the darker ages of society. Its plan is to coimpt truth; to invent fiibles and gild them over with supernal sanctions ; to play off these inventions upon man's natural reverence for the unseen ; to worry the conscience with supersti> tions ; to iill the mind with high notions of the power possessed by the priesthood to confer happiness after death ; and having, by means ' of human guilt and human credulity, established despotic dominion over man's reason and his will, to ply every artifice upon its victims when near enough to the tomb to catch a glimpse of the horror of darkness which dwells within. This is the auspicious hour of priestism. It waves its wand —exercises its enchantments— despatches sinners to ever- lasting felicity, and picks up the gold which they were compelled to leave behind them. History informs us that priestism, in this its youthful period, was not only assiduous, but sagacious. It invariably selected for its purposes those leeches of the human race which had sucked the blood of others until plethora had exhausted the powers of reason ; and at the nick of time they sprinkled upon the consciences of the poor wretches the salt of their traditions, when immediately they dis- gorged their wealth and died. Priestism growing rich looks about for security. It must entrench itself, its pretensions, its ghostly authority, its enormous wealth, behind the lines of civil law. And cunningly has it done its work. We will not attempt in this i)lace to track its tortuous path, but rather glance at its present position in our own country. We take tlio Church of England as a fair specimen. What does that Church present to us for observation? A system P^IESTISM. 143 of doctrine stamped with the seal of the civil magistrate, as authoritative and Divine. A hierarchical construction which gathers up, through several gradations of office, all the mass of influence which resides in the clergy, and puts it under the management of one head. An order of men claiming the sole right of giving instruc- tion in spiritual affairs. A provision for their mainte- niance, exacted directly or indirectly from every subject of the realm. The Throne bound by oath to protect ecclesiastical temporalities. Civil law so intertwined with priestly authority that the one can hardly exist apart from the other. Through all the pores of government priestism has insinuated itself, rendering the whole framework of society rigid and inflexible; a gradual adaptation of our institution to our wants becomes impossible, and every change endangers the existence of the body politic. This is the inevitable result of a State Church. When the magistrate declares a body of men vested with his own authority to perform spiritual functions, and exact spi- ritual obedience, and receive the revenues appropriated to this special use, he submits to be handcuffed by hi» own creature. Priestism has ever discovered an extreme jealousy of the power it has invoked to guard its emoluments and preserve its honours. It has chained civil government to its own gun. The powers of the law may be turned against invaders, but cannot be turned against the citadel itself. Corporate officers, magi- strates, senators, peers, Ministers of State, the Sovereign — all are shackled with oaths forbidding them to displace from her position of security the Established Church. Touch the institutions of the land at a point ever so remote, and with delicacy the most refined, and out rushes priestism, like a spider, to protest against your presumption. Talk about enlarging the liberties of men, 144 PRIESTISM. civil, commercial, or religious, and priestiflm. takes instant alarm, lest ecclesiastical wealth or ecclesiastical exclu- siveness should be laid open to a successful inroad. Worldly substance obtained and preserved by spiritual pretences constitutes the summum honum of priestism — to take the first is sacrilege — ^to question the last is infidelity. Intelligence is doing much to weaken the law defences of priestism. Time is filling in its moats and crumbling its walls. Already men talk aloud of levelling the forti- fication with the groimd. But when did human nature, placed in an artificial position of superiority, ever i*esign it without a struggle 1 If the authority of the magistrate is found unequal to the task of guarding the privileges and wealth of the clergy, they are not the men to yield up their post until every means have been tried to secure it. Why not boldly laugh at the title they enjoy from the hand of the civil power, and forge a higher one — a title from Heaven? There are fools enough in the world to be gulled by impudent pretensions — minds of feeble fibre, which cannot stand upright alone, and which cling to priestism as a support against the doubts which they are not strong enough to resist. This is the last resort of priestism — to assume a Divine commis- sion, and place itself above the magistrate who has nursed it into power. The honours, the wealth, the authority of the Church must not be given up, at all events ; and if law becomes too weak to secure them, another mode of defence must be superadded. Accordingly, we have Puseyism — apostolical succession, the supremacy of the Church, and all their cognate assumptions and absurdi- ties. It is simply priestism calling down fire from heaven to protect its worldly possessions. It is a very old thing imder a new guise. With all the art bestowed PBIESTISM. 145 upon it to make it look like religion, it smells of the earth, earthy. What now is the end of iti The grati- fication of human lust of power. What one benefit is it intended to work out 1 To raise the clergy above the position of humanity and make them demigods. To put understanding, conscience, affections, will — all that makes man, man — into the hands of a body of proud, self-seeking priests, to be moulded and kneaded into the shape found to be most consistent with their designs. Here, then, we have another phase of evil under which a State Church presents itself to a philosophical inquirer. It is only for the Church to set apart for the enjoyment of a spiritual order of men a mass of property which they may regard as theirs, and not only will the retention of the property become the uppermost consideration with them, but their invention will be put to the rack to surround it on every hand with barriers which may repel encroachment. They will wrap up the treasure in every fold of religious assumption, be it ever so ridiculous. They will aim to place themselves above law, above reason, above opinion. They will magnify office, to which salary and dignity are annexed, to such gigantic dimensions as to throw character into a seeming of perfect insignificance. There is no blasphemy too daring, no assumption too impious for them to practise in order to this end. The last stage of priestism exhibits its advocates as be- lieving their own lie and sincerely setting themselves, under the influence of a strong delusion, to "do God service,** by trampling upon every principle of revelation, and reversing every dictate of common sense. The evil spirit may seize upon good as well as upon evil men; and the Church under their sanction become nothing more than the sanctuary of pretensions, which the under- standing rejects with scorn, and the depository of wealth L 146 'whicli carries with it not a single kutorical asociadaa Imt that of unmixed depravity. Such, viewing it philoEophicallv, is the neoeasaiy result of setting apart a fixed and ample pro\-i2don for religions instraction and anthoriaing an order of men who shall be permitted to enjoy^ it. The provision becomes the end ; priestism, or religions pretence, becomes the means to the end — and he must be little skilled in human nature who does not expect that the provision will spcedilj be surrounded hy an environment of superstition, arrogance, impietj, and intolerance such as .under ordinaiy circumstances woidd appear impossible. IX. EELIGION BY PROXY. To do by the instrumentality of another what is ii-ksome to one's self — to indulge the hopes of religion without incurring the necessity of submitting to its restraints — ^to be relieved from the obligation of investigating with care the claims of truth, of personally communing with it from day to day, until the mind becomes assimilated to it in loveliness and purity, and of governing the conduct by its spirit and its laws, without being exposed to the risk of forfeiting its rewards — to be possessed of a passport to a happy immor* tality which allows those who have it to saunter thither through any byeways that may suit their pleasure, and in any company that may suit their taste — is what human nature both approves and loves. That species of religion will find most abettors in this world the business of which can be transacted by proxy j and where men can devolve their main duties to Heav6n upon a paid agent authorised to undertake them on their behalf, they will ordinarily be content to put up with many evils, and bear considerable expense, arising out of an arrangement so convenient to themselves. Hence the success, in all ages, of priestism, , which is a system of mediation between man and his Maker, the purport of which is to reconcile the Supreme Governor to us without laying us under the necessity of reconciling ourselves to Him; by which, in short, rebels may continue rebels, and yet secure for themselves the fruits of obedience. 148 BEUOIOV BY PROXY. Helicon begins in thought, in consideration. To inqfrnre who He hi who made na, what relation He sustains to iu^ and what are His will and purposes with regard to our conduct here and our destiny hereafter, is the first duty we owe to the Universal Ruler. And that system which pro- fesses to ease us from the labour and anxiety of sincere investigation, which places us in a position out of which sjiring simultaneously a duty and a crime unknown to reason or to revelation— the duty of submitting to be thought for, the crime of thinking for ourselves — must be r^arded as a somewhat unphilosophical means to an end. A State Church does this. Wherever national religion exists, wherever there is an Establishment, he who moots the question, " What is the truth 1 " and who essays to exercise his faculties in answering it, becomes ipso facto a sinner and an excommunicate. This it is the business of the priesthood to settle — say, rather, the business of the State acting on behalf of the priesthood. To inquire is to dissent; and dissent, whether tolerated or not, is an offence — ^a daring offence — against constituted authorities. They who labour to ascertain what is the Divine will, are, in fact, superseding that more important inquiry. What is the will of the Church? Consistent members of the Establishment are bound to reserve their thinking powers exclusively for worldly purj>08es ; in religion these faculties are to be strings in the hands of the clergy by which the puppet souls of Clmrchmen are to be moved mechanically into the attitiido of faith. The State has said, " This is truth." ITie State clergy are bound by oath, and receive their pay, to repeat aft<}r tlie State, " This is truth " — and it becomes the primary duty of every subject of the realm to adopt the declaration without preliminary investigation, and blindly assent to the assertion, "This is truth/' The religion which begins in delegating to others the BELIGION BY PROXY. 149 right of thought, and delivering up reason bound hand and foot into the power of the clergy, will end in transferring . also to them the duties to which thought would lead and upon which judgment would decide. Let a mass of property be set apart by authority for the exclusive enjoyment of a certain order of men, and with an ostensibly view to the accomplishment of certain purposes, and it is hard if these men do not find out an exclusive title to their possessions, and prove themselves able, and alone able, to answer the design originally contemplated. The end annexed to the pay is to make the country a Christian country. The men who receive the pay recognise their obligation to fulfil the con- ditions of the bargain, and to do what the State declares ought to be done. Well, they constitute themselves the sole apostolic Church of Christ on earth. They only have a right to be quite certain that they have the body and blood of Christ to give to the people. The members of other Churches may perchance find mercy; but the members of their Church are sure of it, without a shadow of a shade of doubt. The services of the Church are valid only as con- ducted by themselves — the sacraments dispensed by them must be efficacious. Under their mediation it is quite impossible for souls to miscarry. The baptism they administer, the absolution they pronounce, the various offices they perform, are alone valid and successful — and of course they a/re both successful and valid. All this it i* necessary to assume and to assert, in order to make out a sole right to the endowment. Not that the State expressly requires thus much, but that public opinion, which exerts an influence over the State, must be persuaded to thia extent, in order to secure the stability of an institution, felt to be so onerous. The people would hardly be content to tolerate all the mischiefs, social and political, perpetrated by priestism unless they were satisfied that priestism would 150 BELIOIOK BT PROXY. carry them safely to heaven. It becomes, consequently, a matter, not of expediency merely, but of necessity, to assert on behalf of priestism that it may confidently be trusted — that it possesses all the qualifications necessary to insure triumphant success. But mark the effect which all this must have upon the members of the National Church. So long as they are submissive — think nothing but what they ai^e told to think — question nothing which they are^ taught to believe, and avail themselves without scruple of priestly services, the same having been duly paid for — ^what more is religion to them? Anything beyond this — any effort to lay open the heart to the purifying influence of right views of the character and government of God, is sheer Methodism and cant. Does not a man become a Christian in virtue of his membership of the National Church ? Is not the notion of fitting one's self for heaven by the cultivation of spiritual virtue an imputation upon the efficacy of sacraments, an impudent intermeddling with what belongs to the clergy, a piece of pharisaic arrogance which sober-minded men should avoid] The monarch, the nobility, the magistracy, the gentry, and all the respectability and worth of the country — are they not all members of the Establishment? Can any man, not puffed up with intolerable conceit, doubt their Christianity, or affect fears as to their ultimate safety 1 Have they been encouraged at any time to pay any further personal attention to religion, than a becoming submission to established rites 1 And has the Church ever intimated doubts respecting them] Who are we, that the same passport which franks them through should not suffice for us ? When we are told that but for a settled and authorised provision for the clergy religion would speedily die out of the land, we are constrained to ask, What kind of religion livas in it, as the fruit of this provision ? Boot out from the BELIGION BY PROXY. 151 land all that Dissent has done without the pale of the State Church, and by a reflex influence within it, and what remains? A nation called Christian, baptized Christian, confirmed Christian, be-rited Christian — and that is alL The brutality of popular tastes, the dishonesty of trading habits, the licentiousness of aristocratic propensities — ^what tjounteracting influence did the Church ever bring to bear upon these? How much has she ever done to dis- countenance war, or to rebuke oppression, or to diffuse intelligence, or to promote social harmony and order? "What one great moral principle, once despised but now receiving universal homage, owes its exaltation to the labours of the State-paid clergy? What new sources of pure and refined enjoyment have these mien ever opened to the various classes of the empire? The religion which it most conduces to their interest to promote, is a religion by proxy — which leaves them to settle accounts with Heaven, and permits to the laity an indulgence of all the hopes of Christianity, apart from submission to its claims upon their loyalty. A State Church necessitates a grand imposture — upon the members of it, it produces a careless^ ness about spiritual religion, but one remove from open infidelity. Fashionable Christianity is accommodating to fashionable tastes — and rituality supersedes both purity of morals and earnestness of faith. Could we but trace the history of our Establishment, and mark its influence upon national character, we should find that against deep, intelligent, self-denying piety, it has always set its face as a flint. Hollow formality, confident reliance upon empty and frivolous rites, and an exaggerated notion of the prerogatives of the priesthood — all tending the same way, namely, to secure the Church in the possession of lier revenues, have in all times been the natural fruits growing out of the establishment of religion. Thus it 152 BELIGION BY PROXY. always has been— thus it still is— and thus it will ever continue to be, whilst human nature remains the same. A stated provision for the clergy will ensure the diffusion of a spurious Christianity, adapted at once to hold fast the money, and to 2)lease the general tastes of the people by whom that money is furnished. All Establishments lag^ behind the spirit of the times, and attack opinion more fiercely than vice. He who said "Dissent was a more heinous crime than drunkenness," did but speak out what his brethren think, but have not courage to avow. In the eye of a State Church, immorality and general licentiousness of manners are trifles — thoughts, language, and conduct which expose clerical pretensions, or tend to defeat clerical rapacity, constitute the worst of sins. A Churchman may have a religion without either morals or piety ; a saint in whom both shine pre-eminently, unless he be a Churchman, is practically held to have no religion at all. The former is. sure of heaven— if the latter ever reach it, it will be peradventure. X. TOLERATION. "Whereas we, King, Iiords, and Commons, invested with office to manage the civil affairs of this kingdom, have thought fit to assume authority in matters eccle- siastical; and whereas we have decided in three different ways, on three several occasions, what is the only accept- able mode of worshipping the Creator ; and whereas all persons, whether persuaded thereto by reason or Scripture, offering to Almighty God sincere homage after such sort as they believe Him to require, and not after the form prescribed by us, deserve persecution, and have been heretofore exposed to it in every variety of shape ; but, whereas public opinion renders it now unsafe so far to indulge the natural yearnings of our authorised priesthood as to hunt, imprison, maim, and slaughter men on account of their religious faith, we, King, Lords, and Commons, taking into consideration the peril to which our authority is laid open, and being mercifully disposed to bear with the infirmities of the weak, of our own clemency per- mit all subjects of this realm to approach God in worship in such manner as they believe to be prescribed by Him in His own word, all pecuniary dues having been paid to the Established clergy, and all Dissenting ministers and chapels having- been licensed by our authority." Such is the Toleration Act translated out of legal ver- bosity into the vernacular. I^estism having a large 154 TOLEKATION. stake dependent upon the suppression of Dissent had set upon it civil authority, much after the fashion of experienced dog -fighters — now shouting, then hissing, pinching the animal's tail to rouse his spirit, rolling in the dust with him, and blowing into his nostrils to preserve his wind — ^until civil authority, fearful of being worsted in the encounter, left go its hold, and allowed Dissent, on certain specified conditions, to walk in the same yard, and breathe the same atmosphere, and pick up his living as best he might. A Dissenter, therefore, is a man licensed by law to have a conscience in all things pertaining to religion, save the pecuniary support of a creed he disapproves of; one to whom a ticket of admission has been given by the State into the presence of the Supreme through the door of truth; one whose efforts to spread abroad correct views of Christianity, or views of whose correctness he has an enlightened convic- tion, the civil magistrate graciously puts up with, winks at, might punish if he would, but will not; in a word, one chartered by a joint-stock religious company enjoying a patent monopoly, to listen for himself to that message which Infinite Love has addressed to man in common, and to respond to it in such manner as his judgment and his heart may dictate. Happy Dissenter ! If our civil rulers, in the overflowings of their cle- mency, had proclaimed their consent that Englishmen should breathe the atmosphere which engirdles our globe, or enacted by law that men might walk in the light of God*s s\m, he would have proved himself an abject and mean-spirited slave who felt not sensible of the degrada- tion, and whose spirit within him was not roused to fling back with contempt and scorn the insulting permission. More monstrous, however, is the assumption implied in the grant of religious toleration. That men, imder the TOLERATION. 155 protection of laws enacted by themselves through the medium of their representatives^ can give utterance in their own language and manner to their inmost thoughts of the Being who made them — that they can look without molestation upon the bright orb of Truth, and bow them- selves in reverential adoration — they are held indebted to the grace of Queen Victoria, and of the assembled Water- fords and Sibthorpes, who constitute the Upper and nether Houses of Parliament. In this country religion is subject to similar restraints as wine and ardent spirits ; and no man must dispense spiritual instruction to his neighbours, even gratis, without a Government permit. Dissenting houses of worship are licensed by law, and Dissenters themselves have tacitly and by implication taken out a l^gal grant to do what God has bidden them. It is difficult to characterise this assumption by the State in terms sufficiently expressive of abhorrence. The arrogance and impiety of it are well nigh without parallel in the history of our race. Men, for the most part pro- foundly ignorant of Christianity and heedless of its claims upon their obedience, raised by the artificial construction of society a trifling degree above the level of their fellows, take upon themselves to keep the portals of eternal truth. Over mind — bearing the image of the Invisible, clothed with immortality, the springs of which lie concealed in depths impenetrable by mortal vision, and all the move- ments of which are shrouded in silence and in mystery — nide, frivolous, and overbearing statesmen assume the right of dominion — ^give their permission to thought to roam at large within the regions of the spiritual world, and allow God to receive such homage as human hearts, smitten with fear of His majesty and with admiration of His cha- racter, are prompted to ofier Him. Yes! they, in their condescension, are pleased to tolerate the approach of 156 TOLERATION. worahippera to His throne in forms which themselves have not devisedy and not to inflict pains and penalties^ as they might do, upon such as proclaim to others truths respecting Him which have not been stamped with their authority. Doubtless the Master of the spiritual kingdom is under great obligation to these His creatures for so striking a proof of their forbearance ; and they to whom this dispensation is granted to comply with His demands are bound in duty and gratitude meekly to use their liberty, and submissively to kiss the hand which might thrust them back from the Di^•ine presence, but does not. Toleration carries within it the true germ of a State Church. Analyse it, and you will find the first principles of the theory of national religion. Unfold it, and you will discover, wrapped up within, the right of one man to punish another man for presimiing to have a conscience of his own. It is a legal claim to the fee simple of persecution. It is a confession that men ought not to be molested in the exercise of their religious faith, con- joined with an assertion that the State ought to have the power to molest them. It is arrogance blushing to enforce its own demands, and yet reserving to itself autho- rity to make them ; professing to allow what it declares it would be wickedness to prevent ; assuming the character of a fiend whilst it decries the acts of a fiend ; condemning the sin of which it claims the right to be the perpetrator. Toleration is persecution m posse — the dead seed, which, when quickened, grows up to the " Holy Inquisition." It is a crystallisation of the cruelty of the Star Chamber. Men talk of persecution as though it were legally anni- hilated in these realms. Simpletons ! It has only passed into another shape. Instead of being diffused in act it is solidified into a right, for the purpose of more con- venient preservation. Not one essential property of it TOLERATION. 157 is changed; for they who permit men to worship God are exercising the self-same authority as they who forbid them ; and whether they tolerate or persecute, they equally usurp dominion over man's religious faith. The ultimate substratum, then, upon which a State Church is based is the right of persecution. This is the solid rock upon which the whole superstructure rests. Apart from this it could not exist. It may be, as many of its advocates affirm of the Church of England, as though in bitter irony, the most tolerant Church on the face of the earth. No matter ! Its tolerancy is but the milder modifi- cation of the right to persecute, if so it should be inclined. All the ridiculous eulogies upon its sparing exercise of its power are but so many protests against the power itself. What should we think of a man who was perpetually observing of his friend, "He never steals"; or, anxious to extol his generosity, said, wherever he went, "He lets every man remain in quiet possession of his own " 1 Well ! and what then 1 Is there anything so very remarkable in common honesty that it needs to be thus bespattered with praise 1 What is a tolerant Church 1 A Church that does not avail itself of its power to torture the bodies of men whose souls it cannot command. O ! then, the power is there, and the right is there, and it is the supreme excel- lence of the Church of England that with such power and such right she permits the existence of any other Church whatever. We are much obliged to the venerable matron for not being so wicked as she claims the right to be. We now learn from the very commendations of her own sons that she has authority the disuse of which is her chief virtue ; and we are constrained to remark, that what is so honourable not to use, it would be equally honourable not to have. The question now occurs whether, in a philosophical view, 158 TOLERATION. that can be the wisest means to promote religion which involves the assumption of a right which religion repudiates. In order to make men Christians, is it or is it not best tp begin by making ourselves worse than infidels ] Can no better method be found of advancing truth than that of impei-sonating an imposture and a lie? We are simple enough to believe that like begets like — and that a Church which must tolerate is in a false position. A formal alliance between Christianity and persecution, whether in posse or in esse, is an attempt to amalgamate light and darkness. Where the one is, there the other cannot remain. XI. MORAL EFFECTS OF TOLERATION. Between domesticated animals and those of the same species who live in a state of nature, a wide difference is clearly discernible. Creatures seen as originally moulded by the hand of the Maker exhibit a fulness and perfection of beauty which we look for in vain when man has modified them to his wants. The wild horse of the prairie and the gentleman's hack are in all essential features of their being the same — but we should never think of putting the one in comparison with the other. In fleetness, in courage, in freedom of action, in exuberance of spirit and elasticity of tread, the former elicits admiration from all observers, skilled or imskilled in the mysteries of the turf. Therer is fire in his eye — there is freedom in his flaunting mane — glory is in his nostrils — **his neck is clothed with thunder" — and every feature, limb, pace, movement^ habi- tude, is expressive of the unsubdued, joyous, bounding spirit which dwells within. Look now at the domesti- cated animal 1 Look at him when he feels the hand and the power of his master — ^when his will is forced upon him from without, instead of springing up spontaneously from within. That he may retain mettle enough to make him a very useful beast, is not denied. But his drooping head and his down-hanging tail, his mechanical regularity of movement and sober straightforwardness of pace, denote the change which has passed upon him, and indicate that he 160 MORAL EFFECTS OF TOLEEATION. has no great surplus of spirit to waste in gamesomeness. He is under authority, and he knows it. Toleration has domesticated Dissenters. Run a line through history at the period of the passing of the Tolera- tion Act, and you may observe the strange difference there is between man, asserting religious freedom as his birth- right, and enjoying it on sufferance. On which side of that line do we find the richest specimens of moral dignity, of high nobility of soul, of imimpeachable in- tegrity of purpose, of solid religious worth? There was about the old Nonconformists a frank openness of manner, a calm consciousness of power, an indignant repudiation of artifice, a cool imperturbability of nerve, an unostentatious and matter-of-course devotedness to principle, which those who most hated them could not but admire. They walked about like men who were no strangers to self-respect. They carried themselves erect— their step was firm — they looked into the faces of their fellow-men with steady gaze, and dared to frown upon wickedness however bedizened with this world*s pomp. No one mistook them — no man could despise them — none suspected them to be other than they seemod. Soul looked out from their venerable countenances, beamed in their writings, and animated their deeds. Toleration — accepting permission to worship God — ^has wonderfully domesticated us. There is a super-loyalty about Dissenters in the present day, an exuberance — we may say a rankness — of respect to the powers that be — a scrambling forwardness to profess homage — a sensitive reluctance to offend — a little compact ambition to behave iis respectable, well-trained, gentlemanly members of society, which mark them as under conscious obligations for being allowed to worship God according to the dictates of their conscience. They shun nothing so much as making a noise about their principles. Theirs is the ne pltis ultra of pas- MORAL EFFECTS OF TOLEBATIOK. • 161 sivity of spirit. They lick the liand wliich smites them, and crouch and whine at the feet of those who kick them. In their own exclusive circles how magnanimously they can talk of their inalienable rights — and yet no sooner does a State dignitary come amongst them than they button up, in all imaginable haste, their rights in their pockets, and look as confused as though they had been guilty of some crime. Should any one of their number venture to speak out and tell truth offensive to ears polite, all the rest look down upon the groimd, inwardly approve, and outwardly say, " Fie 1 " They are just like poor relations living upon the cold charity of a well-off uncle half obsequiousness, half irritability — ^in conduct very meek, in disposition some- what sly — who seldom speak above a whisper, and inter- weave with every sentence twice the average number of the usual terms of respect — in whom there is waging incessantly, but unnoticed, a conflict between desire and habit — desire to assert independence, and habit of subservience ; who feel that they belong to nobody, not even to themselves — and gradually sink down into a tacit admission that they were bom to be snubbed, to eat their victuals on sufferance, and to wear the cast-off clothes of the legitimate members of the family. Nor is this striking contrast between the Nonconformists of the present day, and those who lived anterior to tolera- tion, a mere adventitious result. It is clearly the effect produced upon character by position. Persecution drove our forefathers to take their stand upon the rights of man- hood. Hunted, pillaged, pilloried, imprisoned, they hugged those rights more closely to the bosom. They stood up in the native dignity of man, and offered their worship to their Creator, whether the State permitted or forbade — offered, because they wotdd, not because they might. Every impulse within them was high and honourable — every habit of mind u 1^ MWAL Kmons or CBM'inBdL sid ^wry sn pccFjnMdiy ^(ss Iwft ^bd iiodyim^ ferth cf ihfts inwvd coasiii n i ii m M cf 'votth wand i a ds tBiky. Hwy vc-oid kavv no one iCiBd brtw c ni tiioBi aflid HeaT«L Tlwy vmild enter 'sbe ifa r ki l tevple by portal tiwy jsde^d bcr finJEa^ thoucli ^ke "vb t Id ifc ' czovded with perils. TVy woold take eamnatl cf eoDsdeibccs mhr. and in their reiigiovs cafmaJtr aAnsmMg^ no superio r . Toleratioii placed DiaMnlefa in m difleiil poatkm. The o baiadtt to their free aooeaB to the w«ald «f frith were remored. and any man m^t go up hftTii^ in his poaRaaon a GoTeniment permit. Bat to do or to he anything on sofferanee is degrading. It inrolrea oor own acqukaten ce in inferiority. We cannot eso^ from the feeling that our position is one of unmixed littkBeBB. We ate eitAcred^and therefore there is no scope for our i of inalienaUe right — ^we are omiy endured, and thia ( consist with d iecifu l self-re^Mct. What is the inontahle eonsequenoef All around us there exists a stagnant and o pp rc as i ve atmosf^iere of contempt The point on which we stand does not lift us above it. We cannot escape it — we breathe it daily. In the primitiye age of Christianitf , at the Reformation, and during the years of Puritan per- secution, the moral heroism of the devout elevated them frr above simple derision. With us, moral hennsm is impossible, and we go about the woiid with a label on our backs, on which nothing more is written than the word " FooL" Nobody hinders us, we may walk where we please — but the brand is upon us, and we cannot forget it. We become ashamed of ourselves — ashamed (^ our principles—and look, and speak, and act as though we were ordained to be despised, and have made our calling sure. Hence, too, the struggle for religious freedom has lost MORAL EFFECTS OF TOLERATION. 103 its chief charms. When the ground of contention involved the natural rights of n)an, considered in his relationship to the Author of his being, there was something noble in it, something which might inspire the heart with enthusiasm. But now our efforts are directed to the "removal of grievances." The poor relations, mentioned above, might feel and command respect, in claiming to be recognised as branches of the fitmilj and treated with becoming honour as such — ^but if, waiving all notice on this head^ they mutinied only for more bread and butter, they would not be likely to awaken much sympathy. This is the case- of Dissenters. That aggressive policy which aims at the overthrow of assumptions which place them in a position of utter degradation, they eschew. Meanwhile they carry up to the master and mistress of the house, their beloved and ever honoured hosts, a respectfiil remonstrance that they are not allowed enough liberty — and should any one of the family clique but hint that in his judgment their complaint is reasonable, forthwith they commence a series of profound courtesies, which he who receives them cannot but loathe,, and they who offer them cannot but feel to be insincere and hollow. The evil, unfortunately, does not stop here. It pene- trates and permeates social and private character. There is amongst Dissenters a more general and characteristic absence of manliness than amongst any other great body of British citizens. In reference to their distinctive prin> ciples, they too generally sail as near the wind as possible — not absolutely denying them, but seldom displaying any generous warmth in their defence. And a habit of evasion once formed, operates in more respects than one—so that it has become a matter of course to designate an act of shuffling as a "Presbyterian trick." We take no pleasure in thus pourtraying modem Dis- 164 XOBAL KFFECTS OF TOLERATION. senterisiiL We have no desire to cast reproach, upon the men. We say they have been made what they are by toleration ; and that any other men in a like position wonld have inevitably been cast in the same moxdd. The object wo have in view is to illustrate the mischief of a State Church. If it do not persecute, it must toleiate — and toleration, brought to bear upon men in possession of the noblest principles, gradually and insensibly works out a deterioration of character, for which no gain can be held an adequate compensation. Upon Dissenters, as well aa upon the clergy and the members of the Establishment^ the alliance between things secular and religious is prodactive of the most pernicious results — and this not perdiance, bat in the chain of natural sequence. xn. DRUGGED AND DROWSY VOLUNTAHTISM. VoLUNTAETiSM is an ugly and hybrid word, with Latin head and shoulders, and Grecian tail, used in these modem days to denote what in Saxon-English we should call willinghood in reference to the support of religion. Both the term and the thing have been treated with contempt. Whatever of reproach may justly attach to the term, one can hardly see why that which it is coined to represent should be regarded with supercilious scorn. There is surely nothing so remarkably peculiar about Christianity as to render it a despicable thing the moment it becomes asso- ciated with a willing heart. What a man does in obedience to the promptings of his own will, he is usually thought to do quite as well, if not better, than what he does upon compulsion. We never heard that freemen in the West Indies, employed in cultivating their own plots of ground, were regarded as mere mischievous visionaries, because they were not driven to their work by the lash of the cart-whip. In that vast portion of religious work which has already been done in this country to educate, to humanise, and to Christianise its inhabitants, by men not obliged thereto by the law of the land, but simply by the higher and stronger law of coDscience, we discern small occasion for simpering derision. In the department of spiritual effort is willing- hood nothing but a dream 1 and are all the forms of active benevolence in which it has substantialised itself worthy 166 DBUGOED AND DROWSY VOLUNTABTISM. only of the cold sneers of priestism ? Sneer on, you who contend that an educated and respectable clergy can only be maintained by a compulsory provision, and that the support of religion by the willinghood of religious men is a scheme of spiritual Quixotry. Adopting your interpretation of the terms- employed, you are doubtless right; for the Voluntary principle, we believe, has very little concern in maintaining you or your shrivelled fonfns •of Christianity. See now what religious willinghood has done even in this country. How many valuable results have been worked out which the law did not compel men so much as to intend ? To the efficacy of what enactment recorded in the statute-book are we to trace that deep concern to vitalise religion which, just a century ago, startled and terrified a .sleeping Establishment ? The myriads of Sunday-schools which, if they do nothing more, scratch up the surface of a virgin soil before trampled down and neglected, rendering it capable of receiving some of the seeds of truth — ^what legal authority coerced them into being] Chapels, which though too few for the wants of our British population, are yet, taken in the gross, a vast number — by what tax was the amount produced necessary to defray the expense of their erection 1 And the ten thousand ministers of various denominations, who proclaim week by week their several views of revelation and its bearing upon the duties and destiny of mankind — ^how do they find support 1 What ! is all this to be regarded as pure unmixed evil and absurdity, because, forsooth, they who have done these things did them of their own mind, and were not compelled thereto by Act of Parliament 1 ^hey are egregious triflers who say this — ^fops, who have yet to learn that there is within man's heart a power which, when evoked by religion, beggars their own parchment -begotten power as the will which moves the DBUGOBD AND DROWSY VOLUirTABTISM. 167 muscle of the living man does the galvanism which Convulses that of the dead one. And the elasticity of religious willinghood is just in proportion to the necessity which calls it forth. Unless it .be drugged with a lie it will then move most energetically when the greatest weight of resistance is to be overcome, like every mental power it strengthens by exercise, and like every mental power, disuse not merely enervates but ultimately destroys it. Priestism tells us that were religion left to the sole care of Voluntaryism, Christianity would quickly die, and infidelity worse than heathenism would overspread the land. Strange confession this ! Three hundred years has well-paid Protestant priestism been at work within the narrow area of these kingdoms, professedly to bring our people under subjection to Grod's truth. During the whole of this time it has clamoured against those who out of a willing heart have helped to do its work. And up to this moment, judged by its own de- claration, it has not only failed to difi^ise amongst all classes a genial affection for Christianity, but has not suc- ceeded so far as to make men willing to bear the expense of Divine worship. Within this little isle, in which already half the means of grace are provided by the good will of the people, there is not sufficient persuasive influence in the Church of England to prevail upon the richest aristocracy in the world, for whose especial benefit, too, this Church is maintained, to provide the other half. She has made the people Christian, but she has not made them willing to make a single sacrifice for Christianity's sake. What a sublime height of piety must that be which a national provision for the clergy is fitted to produce, which, after three centuries' incessant operation, has not got within sight even of a voluntary maintenance of public worship find ministration ! 168 DBUGOED Aim DROWSY VOLUNTARTISV. But if priestism has not called into play sufficient^ sympathy with Divine truth to enlist its willing support of the forms in which it is thought to be embodied, there is one thing it has done most effectually. It has frowned anger, and spit contempt, and palmed delusion upon religious willinghood so long and so incessantly, that within the precincts of a State Church even that has become well-nigh nerveless and flabby. Were this whole population left to downright, positive, palpable ignorance — ^were its want and woe left in their own naked deformity to meet the eye of compassion — ^were spiritual destitution not concealed be- hind the screen of baptized nominalism — and were human pravity suffered to harden into its own natural forms, instead of being made to run into artificial forms which wear the semblance of a Christian Church — ^would all the earnest Christianity of this country regard it unmoved, and consent to let it be? Whatever there is of willing piety in the land (and all other piety is a contradiction) would it not put forth its strength at the call of so imperative & necessity ? Mark how even now it yearns to be at work, and, half deluded, half frightened, by the impostures of priestism, turns from this Christian country to rescue the millions who remain heathens without a Christian name ! Aye ! the sympathies of Voluntaryism, if such we must call it, are, as far as this nation is concerned, oppressed and paralysed by a lie. Capricious ! Inefficient ! Why, what will not religious principle do when broad awake, when not lulled by the fumes of an opiate thrust down its throat by a State Chui'ch jealous for its property? What has it not done ? Within the Establishment and without it, what one great result has been produced of which it was not the author? And in producing it, religious principle has in- variably acted in obedience to its own heaven-bom impulses, not in obedience to parchment law. Take away this State- DBUQQED Ain> DBOWSY VOLUNTABTISIC. 169 made Church, and how much of true Christiaii willinghood do 70U destroy 1 None ! No ! But the blow which severed the alliance between Church and State would shard off all that thick coating of paint with which priestism has concealed the religious destitution of the land, and lay bare to inspection the rottenness of those assumptions which have been wont to pass for pillars of the truth. Yolimtaryism would find it has a great work to do a^ home, and would gird up its loins to perform it. It would awake from a dream — a false, fond dream — and stretch itself for downright earnest work. Priestism has half persuaded it that it is not wanted here ; but that imposture having been exposed, it would shape its plans, and enter upon its enterprise according to the magnitude of the country's need. xnL ABSENTEBS. <'Thb poor man's Chorcli!" This is the &Toiirh;e descriptive title of our National Establishinent. Where she picked it up is a matter of sm^ll oonsequence. Cer* tain it is that she piques herself upon her ezcluaiTe right to the designation, parades it in the senate^ and smirkingly sets it off in the palace. Herein she ezhibits no uncommon trait of human nature. A sensitive jealousy for our reputation in regard to precisely those qualifica- tions in which we are most deficient, is proverbial The scholar, erudite beyond all living competitors, has been known to cherish a more restless anxiety to make good his pretensions to horsemanship than to learning, and grave divines will occasionally be better pleased with a compliment upon the graceful shape of their legs than upon the success with which they have grasped apparently unmanageable truths, and the eloquent power with which they have wielded them. In such cases, neither the horsemanship nor the legs are above mediocrity; and, by a sort of sliding scale, concern for men's favourable estimate of them rises just in proportion as they sink, and is then most eager when they are most ridiculous. So the richest and most aristocratic Church in all this world assumes the title of "the poor man's Church"; and although, of all classes of society, the poor are least affected by her minis- trations, and least affect them, nothing chagrins her more ABSSNTER?. 171 than to qucstdon the validitj of her pretensions in this matter. IRDoubtless she ought to be what she is so anxious to secure the reputation of being. That vast provision set apart by this nation for the support of the clei^; those innumerable cares and difficulties which the maintenance of the Establishment devolves upon the State; that dis- content which favouritism is sure to engender in the minds of the dissentients; that incessant distraction of social peace which compulsory ecclesiastical enactments never fail to produce; the arrogance and sour-minded- ness of priestism ; the subserviency of character b^otten by toleration ; the numbness of Christian willinghood resulting from a transference of responsibility from indi- vidiials to the Legislature, these are stupendous sacrifices to make and evils to be incurred, which nothing whatever can justify but the sound and successful religious education of the masses. The working men comprise the great bulk of our population. The aristocracy and the middle classes need no Establishment; for they are abimdantly able to provide religious instruction for themselves. Except for the poor, one cannot see the meaning of so cumbersome, costly, and disagreeable an apparatus of means and ap- pliances. Unless, consequently, this be emphatically a poor man's Church, it is a dead failure; and the con- tinued maintenance of the system is as arrant an imposture as craft ever practised upon credulity. It may be from a secret consciousness of this that the clei^ vociferate this title with a show of angry impatience of dispute, which reveals their fear lest they should be called upon to prove its fitness : it may be from a conviction of what ought to be, that the Church blows its trumpet at , the comer of every street, to make men believe that what ought to be is. 172 In one sense the clergy are qnite correct in dflwignatuig the Establishment *' the poor man's Chnrch " ; for certainly poor men do much to support it First of all, a foorth part of the property now enjoyed by the snooesson in an unbroken line of the apostles^ constituted the sacred inheritance of the poor. What, therefore, is so laigely enriched by an unblushing spoliation of the " vested riglii'' of poverty, may not inaptly be denominated as peculiarly " the poor man's." Then, towards its support the poor man largely contributes. For although, unhappily, there are few cases in which he has a strip of garden to be tithed, every mouth that eats pays heavily to the Establishment in the enhancement of the price of bread necessarily caused by State-Church demands. For nothing is more evident than that the consumer xdtimately pays the burdena which fall upon the cultivators of the soiL Of these burdens, tithe and poor-rates may be considered the bulk. The poor, who are the chief consumers of bread, mainly support this plethoric ecclesiastical corporation. They are robbed in every direction. They had once a sufficient estate to meet their wants. This has been taken from them by our most beneficent Establishment; and, to meet the deficiency, a tax, under the name of poor-rate, is laid upon the bread they eat; and lest they should not be sufficiently interested in an institution to which their whole patrimony has been transferred, a further tax to three times the amount is laid upon the chief article of their subsistence in the shape of tithe. The money which, flows into the coffers of the Church seems to come from the agriculturalists, just as the water which pours into a neighbouring pond appears to come from the various drains which directly open into it. But in reality the drain is only the contrivance by which moisture may be drawn from the surrounding soil, and the channel throu^ ABSENTERS. 173 yrhicli it runs; the agriculturalists only collect in pence, paid by the poor for bread, the sums transferred by them at the annual tithe audit. Food pays the Establishment and sustains its burnished dignity; and those who eat most bread ultimately pay most largely towards the ex- penses of priestism. Not altogether without reason, there- fore, is our National Church called "the poor man's Church " ; for, assuredly, he is the main contributor to its wealth. Of a truth, one would do no great violence to reason were he to conclude that the flock thus fleeced by indirect exaction, would be permitted to enjoy unmolested the benefits arising from being penned up within the sacred fold. But, no ! Bald-headed infancy and simplicity, carried up to the font by sponsors, to be regenerated by water and the sign of the cross, Ls not allowed to depart without leaving behind it a legal fee. Maternal gratitude, strongly impregnated with superstition, cannot express itself in public assembly without having first deposited its fee. Rustic love cannot contract connubial ties until it has duly paid its fee. Poverty, immured in a workhouse, cannot be spiritually cared for until, by somebody, the fee has been secured. Death itself is not exempt from taxation in "the poor man's Church," and the rights of sepulture are given only in exchange for a fee. Money — money — money; nothing can be done in this Church without money. Well, what is the issue? This "poor man's Church," which draws its chief wealth from the hard earnings of the industrious, is filled with every class of worshippers but the poor. They may enter the church porch without money and without price; and so may the squire who sleeps out the service in his well-carpeted and comfortable pew. In this respect both are on a level ; but here ends 174 ▲sasmcss. the ■unikxity. The poor man is throBt into the aisle, or takes his place upon the ill-plaoed benches set ajpart to deatitation. This is all he gets in letain for the sacrifioes he makes. The poor, therefore, oonstifcate a laige and numerous sect by themselYeB. They are not Diaaenters, but they are almost universally absentera. Fev of them care to show themselyes in any place of worship. Taught to regard the Church of England as the only true Church of Christ on earUi, and observing that it does little else than fleece and wony the poor, th^ come to the conclusion that Christianity is but a fifystem of priestcraft, and give themselves up, not to infidfJity, for that is positive, but to absenterism, which is mesrety negative. By every kind of evidence which the subject will admit of; by the confessions of the most strenuous advocates of the compulsory system ; by statistics which cannot err ; by complaints which undesignedly let out the truth, tiie fibct is established beyond all contradiction that ''the poor man's Church " has neither gained the confidence, nor won the attachment, nor secured the piety of the masses. The want of church accommodation does not account for this. In crowded cities there is no excess of attendance; in villages, where every soul in the parish has ample church room, absenters are as numerous in proportion to the whole population as in towns where churches are too few to contain a tenth part of the people. Be the reason what it may, the experiment has most signally failed. A stated provision for the clergy has turned out anything but a successful method of meeting the spiritual wants of the labouring classes, or of bringing into a temper of loyalty to the Supreme the great bulk of the inhabitants of this land. The whole thing is an impudent and very costly pretence — a mode of taxing the poor for the ad- AB8ENTEBS. 175 vantage of the rich, under the artftd guise of levying upon the rich for the benefit of the poor. Here, then, we close this branch of our argument. After an examination of the axiom that " It is the un> questionable duty of the State to provide for the religious instruction of the people" — an examination which, we beUeve, reduced the proposition to an absurdity, we have attempted to show the effects worked out by the practical application of this maxim, upon the system of revealed truth itself, upon the clergy who proclaim it, upon the members of the Establishment who assent to it, upon the vast body of Dissenters who are tolerated by it, upon religious Volimtaryism, and upon the mass of the poorer inhabitants of this country. And we have seen that the theory of an Establishment is not more incon- sistent and contradictory than are the effects of it in all directions disastrous and destructive. As a spiritual in- stitution, we are warranted in pronouncing the Church of England to be at once a blunder, a failure, and a hoax. GROUP THE FOURTH. THE STATE CHURCH SEEN IN CONTHAJST WITH CHRISTIANITY. Thx Church i« often said by the advocates of the compnlaoiy syttem to be married to the State. The marriage n regarded am a forced one. Beligion made law loses all influence beyond law, and moulds the actions instead of touching the heart. The gentleness of Christianity is contrasted with the coarse violence of an Establish- ment. The simplicity of the one is viewed beside the meretriaoos splendour of the other. The lordship of a State Church is forbidden hy Scripture. The whole philosophy of a Church is upset by what i» called national religion. Christianity is remarkable for its deference to the rights of conscience. A State Church is based on the over- throw of those rights. The first appoints wages to the labourer, the other appoints the labourer to the wages. This last feature of a Nation^ Church is productive of the following results— That it pro* fesses to teach the vauity of this world by means of securing in it vested and inalienable rights, and seeks unity by becoming the parent of incessant discord. I. THE FORCED MARRIAGE. When Constantme proclaimed the banns of matrimony between the secular power and Christianity, the inqniiy, had it occurred, would not have been unreasonable, whether the free consent of the latter had been first obtained. And when the civil magistrate, dressed in his gayest, approached the altar to plight his troth and receive the hand of the heavenly maid, what reply, we wonder, would have been given to the question so natural and appropriate under all the circimistances of the case, "Who gives this woman away?" We fear the marriage was a one-sided one — that the bride was never asked, " Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband V — ^that the ceremony, so far as she was concerned, was a dimib-show, hurried over whilst she was panic-stricken and faint, and that she was borne off by the lusty bridegroom as a sacrifice and not a wife. If so, an immediate divorce should be pronounced — ^for the consent of both parties is necessary to the validity of marriage. It may be all very well, and, doubtless, very pious indeed, for the right reverend fathers in God, led on by the Duke of Wellington, to declare that no single duty of the State can be plainer than this, that it should ally itself with the Christian Church. The boy Jones might imagine him- self under a similar obligation to take unto himself to wife Victoria the First. In this latter case it is just siipposable 180 THB FOBCED MASUAGS. that the duty of the juTenile aspirant after regal hoaaais would be somewhat affected bj her Majesty^s indination — and that upon her manifestation of unequivocal repugnance and disgust at the bare mention of the patronage intended liar her, the conscience of the youth would be fully dis- charged of the guilt of disloyalty, even although he made no further attempt to force his hand upon his beloved Sovereign. Should he, however, in defiance of the Queen's will, in utter disregard of the disparity subdsting between ihe two parties, and in innocent but ridiculous tinoon* idonsness of the difference between the tastes, pursuits^ habits, affections, and duties of the one and those of the otiier, persist in believing himself bound by the claims of loyalty to wed his royal mistress, one of two condusioitt might be safely drawn — either that the lad's intellects were weak and unsettled, or that his whole being had run into one mould, and could take no other form — an inordinate and morbid appetite for palace cheer. Holy Bishop Blomfield, gentle Philpots, heavenly-minded Lyndhurst, grave and learned Waterford, together with the combined wisdom and piety which in the Upper and Lower Houses of Parliament radiate from stars, crosses, garters, and collars, or repose beneath military and naval uniforms, or settle under the shadow of overhanging wigs, or hide themselves behind silk aprons and shovel hats, may deter- mine that it is the duty of the Legislature — that comely body composed of many members — to contract an indis- soluble alliance with the Church, or, in other words, with the living and embodied Christianity of the land. Be it so. We question not their motives — they are evidently of the purest. All histoiy goes to establish the fact, that the civil powers, in affecting a union with religion, have been swayed by a single and unmixed regard to the welfare of religion ; and nothing is more obvious than that, in our own THE FORCED MARRIAGE. 181 country and. in our own day, nought but affection for Christianity — no selfish, no unworthy passion, prompts our rulers to maintain it \ininterrupted. All this may be taken for granted, or rather may be considered as proved. Still one might be tempted to surmise that the question, " What does Christianity itself say to the union?" is not wholly irrelevant. Surely she is to have a voice in this matter. In an affair so closely identified with her own well-being there is nothing so extremely absurd, that we can perceive, in consulting her will. If, after all, the State be found to be not the man of her choice — if between the two parties there be no natural sympathy — if religion, speaking through the medium of Scripture, plainly say " No," and set. forth her hopes, pursuits, objects, as altogether a bar to the pro- posed alliance — why, then the sensitive consciences of our own Peers and Commons should be considered, we think, relieved of the obligation they had recognised, and the yearn- ings of their piety might yet find some more becoming mode of expression. If they cannot consistently become legis- lators for religion, they might perhaps content themselves with being religious legislators. A truce to banter! Let no one mistake us. If the strain of the preceding remarks savour of irreverence, upon their heads be the responsibility whose deeds can only be fitly represented by such words. If we have resorted to an illustration which would seem to do violence to that chaste and sacred awe with which God*s revelation to man ought ever to be regarded, it is that we may bring out into stronger relief the reasonableness, nay, the necessity, of settling this question of a State Church by the dictates of inspired truth. "We have no idea of the infallibility of an axiom asserting the propriety of this alliance as a self- evident proposition, without so much as glancing at the authority of the Divine word. Whatever the bishops and 18S THE FORCED XABBIAOS. the clergy maj think of it, we must take leare to conmilt Gliristiaiiity itself. If it should be found that the genius of that beneficent system abhors a merely nominal submission to its claims, forbids coercion, renounces worldly honours^ and establishes an authority to which sceptres must reve- rently bow — ^if legislation, by erring men in matters of religion, even when those men are imbued with unques- tionable piety, be distinctly denounced — ^if a State apparatus for reaching the ends of truth manifestly and necessarily supersede and contravene every distinctive law of the Great Head of the Church — then, we say, that episcopal axioms, however sustained by pomp, and dressed up in the robes of human authority, are but solemn inanities — ^frivolous, empty, unreal— a mockery of wisdom; a wretched perversion of sacred things, which every man of common sense and ordi- nary piety is bound to reject with ineffable scorn and loathing. Our readers, therefore, will not be displeased if we now attempt to famish an answer to the inquiry, " What does Christianity itself say in elucidation of this question of Church and State?" "We purpose to be brief and to the point. We shall address ourself to the reason of plain men. Assuming that Scripture is what it professes to be, and that, being such, its authority must be decisive, it will be our object to obtain from it a response touching the alliance of things sacred and secular, in terms which all men, whether theologians or not, may readily understand. Th^ will then be in a position to determine whether when, in reference to the spiritual ends proposed by it, we declared the Establishment to be a grand imposture, we spoke with- out adequate authority; and to decide for themselves whether a State-Church, so far from being a correct repre- sentation of Christianity, be not an earth-bom monster, whose parentage must be divided between ambition and hypocrisy. n. SPIRITUAL DYNAMICa The worth of a thing is usually settled by what it can do. Given, a certain weight of matter to remove, that is the best engine which most easily and effectually removes it. Other pieces of mechanism may be more curious, more complicated, more ornamental ; but if they fsdl of the main end of their construction, they might as well not be. Or, drawing an illustration from mind instead of matter, the end of an argument is to convince; and the homeliest which accomplishes that end is vastly superior to any that fail of it, however admirable their ingenuity, however beauteous their dress. Christianity, if it be a revelation from Heaven, which our bishops will hardly be disposed to deny, has something to do. It comes into this our world to effect somewhat which nothing else was competent to effect. It has its own sphere, its own power, too, to work within that sphere. It was not intended to be a raree- ahow — a thing for men to gaze at and forget ; nor was it designed to be a cushion upon which an aristocracy might pin its jewels and its honours. Neither does it wear on the face of it the appearance of an embroidered purse, knit for the purpose of carrying ecclesiastical gold. If examined^ it turns out to be anything but layers of gold-lea^ beaten out to the utmost conceivable thinness, with a view to gild the practices of oppression, and give a show of splendour to d^ds of injustice and rapine which else would look black as 184 SPIRITUAL DYNAMICS. Erebus itself. There is nothing in it which puts on the guise of pretence. It has all the signs about it of an earnest reality. No flimsy drapery, no garish attractions; but a sincere, sober, reasonable, majestic system of truth — ^raia first to last practical — evidently having in hand some grave business to accomplish which ia its one and only concern. Christianity has to do with men, and its aim is to manage them. Law may restrain them, custom may bind them^ opinion may drive them, but she would win them. Down deeper than all these powers can reach — deeper we mean into man's nature — she proposes to go ; and whilst they can do no more than influence what man does, she proposes to afiect what man is. They may govern human actions — she will govern human nature ; they may change the conduct — she comes hither to change the man. Her operations are all calculated to tell upon character, and the truth she wields is designed to bear down and subdue the will itself, the lord paramount within us. And if she does not this, she does nothing. The system is a failure unless it possess inherent power to accomplish this. If it master not men them- selves—if it grapple not successfully with that which is inmost of us — the very core of our being, the hidden germ of which thoughts, passions, deeds, are but vaiious unfold- ings — if it lay not in the lowest depths of our nature some solid basis of truth upon which character may ultimately rest — why then it aims at what it cannot compass, and it is as well out of the world as in it. "We say again, this it is, or nothing. Christianity came into the world to r^Ue, where no other power can rule — over man's heart. Marry this power to the State, and you destroy it. You might as well attempt to sway the heaving ocean by the power of thought, or charm the winds with words, or cabin imagination within brick walls, or analyse an idea with chemical solvents, as to give eflect to Christianity by cloth- 8FIBITUAi< PYKAlUCfik ISjf ing it mih the sanction of the civil magistrate, f^iaot tho truth, arm it with the sword of human authority, affix ta ita decrees pains and penalties, surround it with worldly pomp^ deck it with worldly titles, place it beneath a velyet canopy^ and crown it with a monarch's diadem, and you reduce it al once to a commonplace power, such as the world has always had, competent to deal not now with what man ia but what he does. Its whole destiny is altered. Henceforth it must work, not upon character, but upon conduct. With these encumbrances it must remain in the suburbs of human nature, and is utterly incapable of entenng the citadeL Truth may command the heart — law can command nothing but the actions. Truth, made law, can go no further than law. All the addenda of pomp and glory can do no more for it than law proposes to do — enable it to touch the out- side of man, whilst they rob it of its power to come in con- tact with his very being. As well might we solidify heat, were that possible, in order to diffuse its influence more effectually. In truth, it is a piteous spectacle to see an influence^ subtle but powerful, impalpable as light, and efficacious as the dew, fashioned, if we may so speak, of the same invisible and etherial elements as the human spirit itself, designed to act upon it, and therefore assimilated in material and flbre to it ; so that as matter touches matter, and miud sways mind, moral truth, gloriously developed, might affect moral natures — aye ! it is a piteous spectacle to see an emanation of this s<»t, caught and bottled up in clumsy State-Church phials, mixed with the rudest, coarsest, dirtiest elements of man, and sold, by compulsion, to duped and gaping subjects, under the name of Christianity. The Christianity, how* ever, is not there, any more than sunlight would be there, were men to pretend to bottle it up with water, and after- wards distribute it for use. It can no more be held in law- 186 gPUtlTUAI. DTlTAXICaL prepared receptacles, than can thooglit be detained under glass tumblers. But the ignorant are deluded, and avaiice answers its end — and under the name of truth, whose end is to woo and win man, ecclesiastics exhibit an iinsiglitlj thing made up of parchment and jewels; a stupid oon- trivance, in which nothing better can be found than the baton of the policeman, side by side with the coach-and-four of bishops — a thing of wigs, aprons, lawn, crosiers, genu- flexions, tithe-processes, distraints, money — a sort of plum- pudding-stone of whatever is of the earth, earthy — a power, not to enter the heart and rest and rule there, but to creep into the pocket and pilfer, or to mount the chair of civil authority and play the tyrant Is it not piteous 1 Caliban married to Miranda — ^bloated worldliness to spiritual beauty! Ah! What does Christianity, pure, unearthly, seraphic Christianity say to that 1 Let but a man breathe the atmosphere of truth, and then go into the very midst of our ecclesiastical climate — ^there^ where it is most ecclesiastical. Let him try the air at Oxford, or if it like him better at Westminster, or if be prefer it at a royal christening — and then let him determine whether the breath of priestism has puriified the simple element upon which the life of man's heart depends— whether religion can best sustain itself in this atmosphere or in that ! And if the vitiated taste of some men lead them to prefer the smell of gas, why then, let them have it ; but in common decency let them refrain from urging upon us the axiom, that it is their duty to poison the air of the whole neighbourhood with their suffocating vapour. They might be content with eating coals themselves, without cramming them down our throati. in. COERCION. Chbistianity is gentle ! Her voice, soft and balmy as the breeze in summer's eve, whispers in tender accents of peace and love, and speaks sympathy to the human heart Her power, like that of woman, is meekness — her delicacy is strength. Mercy is on her Hps —benevolence lights up her countenance — ^the beauty of disinterestedness charac- terises her whole form — her every movement is inex- pressible grace. She asks nothing but love, and she gives that she may have. Amid the wrecks which the fierce passions of human nature have strewed up and down this world she moves with light step and ready hand to minister consolation. No pomp I She " cometh not with observa- tion " ; but there, where wretchedness is, and anguish, and despair, she loves to sit down and wipe away the silent tear, and bind up the broken heart — to bless, to do good, to lessen man's woe, to augment his sources of joy, to be a pleasant companion to him, and a patient guide through the stormy scenes of life to immortality. And this gentle, confiding, lovely, peace-inspiring truth, the wisdom, or rather the craft of priestism, has allied with physical force — smeared her beauty with gunpowder and blood — sent her forth into the land accompanied by troops of policemen and bands of military — ^put into her hand a licence to plunder — armed her with power to enter the dwellings of the reluctant^to seize booty and distribute it 188 COERCION. among her followers — to imprison gainsajers, and indorae the warrants for their apprehension with "take no bail" — to shoot widows' sons and cleave the skulls of poor fettheileaB children— and all this that she may have gold to give to her clergy. Aye ! here is the naked truth. Men in these realms and in this enlightened centuiy are to be worried^ hunted, fleeced, incarcerated, shot, that the clergy may have gold. They proclaim war to the knife in order that they may have the wherewithal to preach peace, and crush out of man's necessities the food which is to strengthen them to minister to man's wants. Amiable priestism ! how like thou art to Christianity ! The paucity of instances, be it remembered, wherein <leath is inflicted in the collection of tithes, must be regarded as accidental, and consequently not be set down to the kindliness of the compulsory principle. Here is so much property in the hands of a given individual assigned by law to the support of Divine worship, or the mainten- ance of a professedly Christian minister. Up to the measure of force which that individual employs to retain possession of liis own, and beyond it, law must necessarily go in order to seize it. Where complaint only is urged, law answers with threats. Where passive resistance is exhibited, law resorts to forcible seizure. Where contempt of authority is shown, law condemns the recusant to prison. Where phy- sical force is appealed to, law employs force equal to the (nnergcncy, and if necessary deals out death. That most men are let alone is not to be ascribed to the leniency of the })rinciple. The principle is — force to the amount necessary to get possession of the gold. A legal provision for the clergy ultimately resolves itself into this. The aspect under which the principle developes itself depends entirely upon, the kind of opposition offered to it, not in anywise upon itself . The Church of England holds in her hand, as the tfOJERCTOW. "m law-established Ghurcii, authority to kill men, if necessary, in pursuit of her own maintenance. If the power opposed to her demands for money be too formidable to be encoan- tered by an armed police, she may call the military to her aid, as she has often done in Ireland, and hew to the groitnd those who resist her claims. A compulsory maintenance cif religion, is religion tdtimately supported by the power of the fiword. It pits must against won% and won't is cruiE&ed %t any rate. Would people but look at things themselves, instead eft" the mere shows of them, they would discover herein the whole pith and core of the question of Church and Static. The union of the two is the union of physical force und religion, for the purpose of securing a temporal main- ienance for the ministers of the latter. It appoints for Christianity an armed bully, to hector men out of thu support which they are indisposed to give — and the rude, clamorous, blustering champion of the rights, they call theok, of the, clergy, the professed teachers of Christianity, dis- pensers of its blessings, successors of the apostles, demandit their pay in a voice of menace rendered yet more significant by the flourish of his club. What are all our Church-rate prosecutions and tithe-processes but jiLst this 1 What need is there to ask Christianity herself what she says to this proceeding? Why, when be-mitred and be- baroned bishops tell us that it is the duty of the State to compel the maintenance of the Church, even at the point of the sword if need be, why insist on behalf of religion that the weapons of her warfare are not carnal? When we learn from the lips of truth that her "servants must not strike," are we called upon to enter into grave discussion to prove that neither must they have professional strikers to do what is forbidden to themselves? Let the Christianised heathens who utter oracles for the Church, 190 COEBCIOK. deliver themselves of their wise rayings— sajiogB vhich prove them to have slight confidence in any power but the power of the stick ; to sit down for tlie purpose of calmlj refuting them is an insult to Christianity. The whole scheme is redolent of human avarice, craft, and hypocrisy — Scripture distinctly repudiates it — the genius of religion abhors it — common reason, even, and natural sense of justice, reject it with scorn. Nothing but the profoundest and most Stygian ignorance of what religion is can ex- tenuate the crime and guilt of those who abet it. Why, even political ends now-a-days are pursued by moral means only, and all classes imite in disclaiming the instrumentality of physical force. And is Christ's Church to be supported by means which would be held to contaminate a movement for civil reform? Let the sanctimonious babblers who gravely tell us this have done with their trumpery ! The Christianity they profess rebukes them to their fiBMses, and points out upon their foreheads the marks of Antichrist. a IT. ECCLESIASTICAL POMP. With the pennission of our readers, we shall make bold to draw upon their ima^ation. We ask them to postdate time by many centuries, and, upon the wings of flEincy, to transport themselves to any one of those numerous cities which in the earlier times of Christianity acquired renown for their subjection to the truth. Rumour is busy in announcing the approach of some celebrated eremite, and the inhabitants of the city are on the alert to do homage to his sanctity. From youth upwards he has professed and practised abstinence. He has aimed to pour contempt upon this world^s pride. His food haa been of the simplest, and barely sufficient for the maintenance of life ; his drink, the water which gushed from the rock in a fissure of which he had found his cell; his clothing homely and coarse, his habits retired, his mien externally humble, his whole life a practical comment upon the vanity of worldly show. Imagine, then, a popidace anxious to do him honour, receiving him at the gates of the town in the same manner as they have been accustomed to receive a martial victor. Gorgeous processions, richly-ornamented chariots, flaunting banners, bravery of dress, music which would ** take the imprisoned soul, And lap it in Elysium — " banquets, in the serving up of which invention and wealtJi 'I 192 ■OOLEBUSnCAL POMP. have alike exhausted their resources, wine, dancing, reveliy, a carnival of all sensual passions — how would all these become the recluse) or what propriety would there be in this species of homage paid to simplicity, self-denial, sanctity, and religion) The North American Indians might with equal fitness and in equal ignorance have presented to the immortal Penn five thousand scalps and a goblet of human blood. Christianity is no eremite, but neither does it court «xtenial pomp. It is simple, chastie, grave. It ooines hither, if it be anything more than a pretence^ to apeak to men on their most important interests^ in their moiat aober moments. Its errand is a cheerful one, but one with which the gaieties and fripperies of life but ill aooord. Seen in Scripture it is always solemn. It is pure spiritual truth, embodied in £ftct» and language. It says much about the emptiness and unreality of this world's glare — moire <tf the unspeakable vastness and worth of the interests oonnected with the next. The burden of its communication is most felt and best appreciated when the mind loses sight of all outward show. Its voice cannot be heard in noise — ^it is '^ a still small voice.'' It disclaims worldly pretensions — ^it warns against "the deceitfulness of riches'' — it affects not ^* the honour which cometh from men.'' It was cradled in poverty — ^it was baptized in suffering — ^its walk has been of choice among the poor — ^it has forbidden to its followers titles of distinction. It is mind in all its superiority over matter, reality over show, principle over expediency, eternity over time, heaven over earth. And the great ones of our kingdom have resolved to do homage to truth — so they marry her to pomp. Let her superior clergy be selected, or rather enticed, from the families of our nobility. Make ample provision for them — give them titles whose style encircles men of earth with a ECM:n[.ESiA£nricAL pomp. 193 halo of heavenly dignity — ^grant them baronial possessions and privileges — ^build for them palaces — let them shine in court, reflecting back the glory of the Throne — ^bid them play a conspicuous part in every state pageant— dress them up in lawn and silk — carry them from place to place in superb carriages— overlay them with honours — stuff them with pride — ^make the heralds of Heaven's mercy the porters of this world's wealth ! What better method can be devised of promoting religion 1 Can the spirituality of Christ's kingdom be more vividly illustrated? Can sincere and sober verity be more becomingly set off? Where could be found a comment more striking upon the apostolic exhorta- tion, " Love not the world " ? Take, now, the last Koyal christening, and look at it simply as a State embodiment of Christianity. Without staying to question the rite itself or the authority upon which it is founded, look at it as a simple act of Divine worship. Why, the religion of the thing is a trifle, com- pared with its worldly environment. Nothing but costly splendour ! Boyal sponsors landing amidst salutes of artil- lery and popular acclamations — cavalcades and processions — jerwels and feathers— fetes, banquets, balls, on the most magniflcent scaler— how can a religious thought or a religious emotion harmonise with the bustle, and the circumstance, and the bravery of a scene like this ? We know who retired . into a desert to pray. . But religion now-a-days can plunge into the very whirl of fashion, and perform its most solemn acts amid the parade of all the accompaniments of Mvolous greatness. Alas ! that that meek, sober, earnest, spiritual reality. Christian truth, Heaven's , best and noblest gift to man, should thus be tricked out with meretricious ornaments, and sent flaring through these realms, so berouged and berib- boned by aristocratic frivolity, as to leave upon men's minds o 114 mcumuanokL fomp. an inpresBion of noUimg "irliateyer beyond earthly pompl lliey fwe the coaohes and the gold — but where im the monil hrr^ineea to which they are bidden to do honagef They hear the thundering cannon and the rwelling oi^gan — ^bat «k> tbey, oan they diacem amidst it all^ the words of persuasiQii which drop as the dew t Is Ihen that eoarae tiling whidSi baibarians can equal, if not ontyioy Christianil^ ) Are her oiaims and her instructions thus fitly symbolised? Does die delight in garii^ attare and love to show herself, first among the foremost, in surrounding h«*8elf with a vain show t No *! but this is what l^islators make of. God'« trutii. Their wisdom turns a strangely solemn reality into a plaything for nobles — a fresh occasion for the indulgence of their costly tastes — a mere peg upon which to hang aris- tocratic pomp and pleasure. Aye ! they have turned their hands to religion, and a fine thing they have made of it. Strip this State Church of its titles, power, and wealth, and what would be left? What is it but a bubble, reflecting the colotirs by which it is surrounded 1 Burst it, and there remains — ^nothing. The Church of a conquered or merely dependent peoj^e may, we admit, be supported by the State, and yet be anything but a thing of outward sjdendour. But where, as in our own country, the CSiiurch and the magistracy are^ if not indigenous, at all events thoroughly acclimated, and have grown up in union for many centuries, the weaker stem will always receive its dbaracteristic form and bent from that which is more vigorous. The oligar^y and the hierarchy are twin shoots. The Church is necessarily assimHated to the State. Hie pomp of her dignitarias and the dazzling worldliness of her rites are not accidents. She could not be so idlied as she is without them ; &(M^ can we get rid of the one without the other. If Chris- tianity condenm this profusion of gewgaws in connectaott ECCLESIASTICAL POMP. 195 with Divine worship, it must be held to condemn the tmioa from which, in our coimtry at least, they are ioseparable. These are not the abuses of a principle sound in itself^ which may be swept away without prejudice to the principle;: but rather the natural developments of it according to the law of circumstances. This seed, planted in this soil, can produce no other fruit. It is a mockery of religion, and such as it is, it springs out of the connection betweez^ Church and State. V. LORDSHIP. Pomp is but the embroidered cloak of power ; the trappings adopted as the appropriate representative of authority; the palace of lordship; the throne upon which, and the canopy under which, dominion sits in state. The sign attracts our notice first, and through it we look at the thing signified. Through that window, pomp, looks forth the lust of rule — ^man's natural desire to exalt himself above his fellows, and to compel the will of all others to bow in acknowledgment of his own. This desire a State Church not merely sanctions but consecrates. A national religion, founded on human enactments, presupposes autho- rity, resident somewhere, to enact in Christ's Church. And we care not how the vessel may be fashioned into which such authority is poured, whether it be hierarchical or Presbyterian, the thing itself is the same — ^it is ecclesiasti- cal lordship in the name of Christianity ; a setting of man over man in matters of religious faith, and worship, and discipline; a constituting of an earthly tribunal for the decision of questions belonging only to conscience; an exaltation of worldly might in a kingdom exclusively spiritual. The burden of a State Church is, "You shall." This is, in brief, the interpretation of the whole theory; and it matters not whether one man says it or five hundred — ^whether it be W. Cantuar, or Presbytery, or Parliament — ^u shall," is what is said, and said by mortals in refer- lie affairs of another life. LOBDSHIP. 197 If this be indeed Christiaiuty, then Christianity is alto- gether a mistake. Here is a power set up which cannot ▼indicate itself, which cannot execute its own decrees — Tittering commands which it has no appliances to enforce. It is just the old story of Phaeton in Apollo's chariot — presumption seizing the reins which it is incompetent to hold, and ignorant vanity converting what was intended for the world's light into a scorching and consuming plague. And it is curious how the impostor, conscious of his own imbecility, seeks to give eflfect to his loffcy assumptions by the ghastliness of his grins and the artificial attributes of power. Those "Courts Christian" which disgrace savage humanity, the dens and caverns into which eccle- siastical " You shall " drags its victims to devour them at lebure — ^what are they, but the gnashing of the teeth and the scowling of the brow, with which lordship in the Church attempts to give force to commands to which it cannot insure obedience ) So, baronial possessions, privi- leges and titles, the Tinion in so many instances of cleiicy and magistracy, impious pretences to official supremacy, and brazen vaunts of apostolical succession — ^what are they all but the high caps and imposing robes, the moustachios of burnt cork, and clattering shoes, with which imbecile dominion aims to swagger itself into the appearance of something majestic — ^an appearance which may justify its big, thundering " You shall" The inner man — ^that which remains of us when every successive layer of husk has been peeled off — the power to think, to judge, to love, to adore, did Christianity, which comes hither to deal with that, intend to put it under authoriiy to a set of garments or torturing irons? For what more is ecclesiastical lordship? Nothing but the truth which it wields can conquer thought, and trath can do it better without the " You shall " *than with 196 L(NKD8B1F. it. The aatliOTiiy to which the soul of man bows in wilUi)^ submisaiony muit be in th» thing BpokessL; UfA where that £ul8, is it likdy that the same thing ^Mkeia ex cQtMrd will avail to bend the will) Why, ^mq, the will in aueh oasei bows ncit to the tratii> but to the ohair^ and is swayed by a soBtselefs xeverenee begotten hy gold, purple, and fine linen, or by an unmanly fiaar excited by the dangle of a whip before the eyei^ or ike dank of iron upon the nenrea of the ear. If Chzia- tianity, dea^ned as it is to rule the inmoat man, reallj proposes to do it by deUyeriog us up to a Icwdsbiqp of mere dress, titles, and power to inBiot bodily injury, we eannot but think it a most unphilosophieal and worib- less thiog, a degradatioii put upon our cosuoon natat^ which it becomes ui^ in the name of that God who made us, to resent Axe we to £^11 prostrate before puppets of roga) And lest we should not pay willing homage to Truth, shall we be enticed to do it by the fine buttons, or compelled to do it by the fiightfel fi^ of some one stepping farwa«d to be the Truth's champion 1 ^^ Give me your love,'' says Christianity, in tones of mild persuasion Uended with authority; and out rushes ecde* idastical lordship, dressed up for the oocasicm, and, showing his teeth, growls out, ''Hallo there! I^ow let us see whether you mean to set me at defiance too ! Giye Ckras- tianifcy what she bids you, or 1*11 let you see who's who." There are not wanting zuen weak enough in the faith. to contend that obedience is due to this usurped authority^ this dressed-up pretence, whatever it may ohoose to oom* mancL We leave such to pay th^ worsdiip to the god which their own hands have £»shioned and their own fancy clothed. Others ajEgue that the force of its ''You «haH" dwells in what may happen to follow. If it be, " Worship as X bid you," it may not be obeyed ; if, '* Give halfpence to ii{^old mj f<»m of dkristia&ity/' it ma,j not be gainsayed. We diaoerak no eoBestial ditiferBHoe. Eoclesiafliioal liodsliip cominands in either case-^^oom- maadsy too, in yirtne of autherify which it pretends to have dehyed from religi(»i, and which it exercises on behalf of religion. In dther oase it is intended to be a sapplement to Chzistianiiyy to insure the doing of some- thing which Truth tries to do^ but^ according to this champion, cannot — an additioiL of maa's ^ shall ^ to God's ^^ ought" Can the one give force to the other? Ls a kingdom wherein ^' Ought'' is appointed solcf ruler, and sways the sceptre by Divine righi^ csa it be fittiag to recognise the usurper ''Shall," and pay to the latter that which we are commanded to reserve for the former? If ^' Ought" be sufficient, what need of "ShaU"? If not, obedience to "Shall" is only a further outrage upon the rights of "Ought" Does the Supreme employ man to £iecure for Himself the homage which His own mandate has failed to obtain? And after having spoken in vain through His Truth, does He dress up bishops to speak for Him? Answer Christianity, or rather the Master of Christianity! ^' The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and they that exercise authority upon them are called bene- factors. But ye shall not be so : but he that is greatest among you, let him be as the yoimger : and he that is chief as he that doth serve." This is said to the Apostles, whose successors in a direct and imbroken line are "the right reverend feithers in God by Divine permission " of our own day, who eke out their own pretensions with the sword of fitate, and sit in the senate with baronial titles. Shall we ring in their ears an exhortation penned of yore by one of their brethren ? " Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the episcopate thereof, not by constraint but 800 LOBDSHIP. -willingly : not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind ; neither SB being lords over Qod's heritage, but being ensamples to the flock." What says << my lord '' of London to that 1 One more passage, and we have done. '* Call no man master on earth." This we presume is as applicable to the laity as to the clergy. We shall make bold to obey it, and in the spirit of true obedience, to pour upon ecclesiastical lordship, in every shape, contempt and scorn. Its rags we will hold up to the light of heaven, that all men may see their coarse and rotten texture; and wherever we meet with its '^You shall," mindful of the all^iance due to real authority, it will be our duty to reply, " We won't." VI. PELL-MELL. " Union is strength.'' We have in these three words a condensed epitome of man's experience in all foregoing ages. Upon this simple principle, all social and all political move- ments proceed. Truth has never been found to make head in the world, otherwise than by the consociation of its votaries. All the great changes which earth has witnessed, have resulted from like uniting with like. The winter torrent, the crashing avalanche, the flash of heaven which shivers the rock into fragments, are but natural illustrations of the force acquired by Tinion — the visible symbols of that mysterious power which is. generated when many minds, heretofore one in thought and feeling, become outwardly one in fellowship and purpose. Up and down through the various walks of society, knowledge o^ and attachment to, any given political principle, may be scattered long time, in some plenty, to all seeming, inert. There shall not need to add to the quantity of existing materials, in order to invest them with irresistible might. Let but some common centre be established, towards which opinion may run — ^let but what is already diffused be gathered into one place — ^let but the latent electricity of mind be drawn out from the general mass which it pervades, unseen, unfelt, and concentrated in a Leyden phial — a visible and organised association — and it instantly becomes an agent strong enough to shatter time- 202 PELL-MELL. worn institutions, and shake the framework of political society down to its very centre. This separation of that which is peculiar from that which is general, this segregation, union, and organisation of minds of like stamp, like character, and like aim, is what Chris- tianity proposes in the institution of what is called ^'the Church." In the lapse of ages, truth might have crept its way into general respect and wide-spread influence, without calling to her aid a visible fellowahip of her disciples. But who does not see the wisdom of her system of means and appliances ? By constituting an order of brothetrhood — ^by making sincere sulmiission to her claims the bond of vniom and the mark of distinction — her own light is flashed into the eyes of the world, reflected by broad and poMshed mirrors, instead of glimmering over the surface of society m sparkling fragments — ^the force of example is multiplied, and punty, always beautiful, puts on a robe of moral dignify which few can contemplate without admiring awe. Aamh <siated goodness possesses strange power over human natora Were it real rather than nominal — ^real, as once it was, what would be too difficult for it? What opposition would it not overmaster? The design is, at all events, replete witii wisdom — ^to league truth against error, and scatter over the whole globe fraternal associaticms, linked to one common centre, for the extirpation of irreligion and vice. It needed but the touch of legii^tors to spoil this whole machinery, and make of it a thing not. merely destitute of wisdom, but destitute of meaning. One is at a loss to imderstand what is i^e moral of a National Church. It neither distinguishes nor unites. It adds no power to example — it reflects no truth. It is not an association of like with like, but a mere conglomeration- of anything and •everything — homogeneous and heterogeneous. It sets off neither dociaine nor ehantcter ; fo^ although its artides we wiitten in a book, it is not at all necessaiy that ikey^ shoiiild be believed by its memboTB ; and although rules i^ disci- pline may be diseorered ia its canons, they are in all req)ects, saving a pecuniary one, as practically obsolete as the curfew-bell of the Normans. The Church is the nation, and the nation is the Choidbu According to tbe theory <^ this precious scheme, DMnbevship depends upon the aoci- 4iental locality of birth. It is not particular as.to ehaxaoter« Newgate is full of its membenh-^so is the House of liords. It receives the refuse of all oUier sects. AU is £sh that «omes to its net. Avowed infiddb have communed with it Gamesters, duellers, aduHev^DS, scoffers, the foes of Gk>d and the pests of man, all fraternise in this wonderfully eompre- hensive ecclesiastioal society. And there th^y are, mingled together pell-mell, lor what conceivable purpose it would puzzle the most sagacious to divine. The charm-song of the Establishment is full of diarity**-*- " Blac^ spirits and white, red spirits and gray, Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may." The point blank unscriptaral— or rather anti-scriptural — character of this National Church, is no less marked a oharacteristie of it than is its pitiful vacancy of all signifi- cance. As nothing more stujAdly unmeaning can be con- ceived, so nothing more flatly contradictory of Christianity <;an be devised. After having looked into this ecdesiastkal cauldron, into which aie liirown indiscriminately*^ *' Eye of newii and toe of £eog, Wool of baiU ^d tongue of dog^ Adder's fork, and blindworm'a sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing " — one is amazed at the blindness of men who eo«ld eivsr have mi st ake n this thing for a Christian Church. One is not so S04 BQiprised at tlie prevalence of the mistake amongst thoee who never had a Bible in their hands. But for those who have, the delusion is unpardonable. What ! Is this mere aggr^ation of men, without assortment — ^this fratemisation of all characters, good, bad, and indifferent — ^this blending into one mass, without assimilation, of every variety of moral material — is this what was meant by the apostle, when he said, " Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people" — ^this that Church of which Paul said that it was '^ the pillar and ground of the truth " t We will not go further into the subject We feel reason outraged and understanding insulted by the preposterous pretence. Satanic craft could not invent a fouler or more malignant libel on Christianity. Why, the very world has had virtue enough to spit upon it with loathing, and to give no equivocal intimations to the priesthood of this lie in the name of truth, that if this be indeed what it purports to be, then revelation is but a £eible, the clumsy fiction of monks and priests. One word more, and we have done. So long as those who know better, in assumed or mistaken charity, choose to recognise this mere worldly association as a Church, and, more fearful of being thought violent than of actually con- niving at a pestilential falsehood, refrain from denouncing it as an anti-Christian imposture, so long must they expect its continuance, and even its growth. From all ranks Dis- senters are hurrying to join this body, under the persiiasion that it is one branch of Christ's Church ; and that if there be some things in it capable of improvement, it only resembles in this respect the Churches with which they have been more familiar. WTien will our youth be taught, and our congregations told, that a National Church is no Church at all — ^that it has none of the characteristics of a Church, none of the powers of a Church, none of the ends PELIr-MELL. 205 for which a Church is constituted? It distinguishes not between the disciples and the opponents of Christianity. It is the '^ pillar and ground " of nothing but a vast hierarchical edifice. It is not associated goodness, nor meekness, know- ledge, faith, nor love. It is a compulsory association of men in one company, with" a view to their being taxed by one order of clergy; and the sooner its real character is made known, the better. VIL THE EIGHTS OF CONSCIENCK Conscience is the power possessed bj man to pass judg- ment on himself— to sit upon the throne, and to hear and determine what is duty, and what are derelictions from. it. It has been called, and not unfitly, (rod's vicegerent in the human mind. It expounds to us the law of right and wrong — it tries us by that law — ^it acquits or condemns— it paases sentence— it' rewards or punishes. It is that unseen, in- dividual, inmost authority, of which the judges of our land are an outward type — ^they taking cognisance of social actions, conscience sitting in judgment upon our secret self. It may have more or less light — may be misinformed, may mistake — but, under any circumstances, its independence ought to be secured. Its decisions must be its own, not those of some other power. From behind its chair of state no whisperer should be allowed to sway it by dictation. Man determining his own obligations, and the correspon- dence of his own heart and actions therewith, is a step above all earthly authority. Place him under human law in such case, and conscience ceases to be a judge, and submits to be a tool of the worst, the most degrading, the most hateful tyranny which this world will admit of. The profound respect paid to conscience by Christianity shows whence Christianity came. Anything trenching even in the remotest degree upon its independence is cautiously avoided. There would seem to be a tremulous tenderness TUB m»mm ov eosBcasmm, 29T thftt xtotiiiiig whatever should iaieifere with its int^§^t^« ^^ Let me be advocate, bat be you the ju<%e." Thus we maiy; interpret the whole toue of revelation. Accoiyiinglj Ohrisr tianity submits her own claims to the hearing <^ oonscieaoe *--gpread8 out her information, argues, expostulates, appeal^ but calls upon the man himsalf, the inmost man, to decide. And what she refrains from doing herself, she most authorit tativelj forbids her foUowers to do. '^ Who art thou that judgest another man's servant) to his own master he fltaaadeth or fidleth." ** Let every man be fully persuaded ia his own mind.'' Th^e is no (me thing moro diaraotmsUe of Christianity than thi»-*-ihat she goes, not mediately by priestiBm, but immediately in her own name, into the inner eourt oi human nature, and, recogoising the supremacy of conscienoe, bows before its seat, opens her conunissicMii, and deals with it alone-^-Ajdng, '' Hiere is my case— judge you what is ri^t." Mark now tibe strange difference between Christianitf and a Btate Church. The latter, in its yeary c(»i6titutioDy and by a neoessity of nature, dedares it to be imseemly, and an offisnce against modesty, that individual man should pass judgment upcm the right and wrong of his own motives and ocmduet. A cisrtain number of men band themselves togetikerand call themselves the State consdenee^and to this State conscience, that is, to tiie will of a FarisasEientaiy majority, every individual consdentce oug^t to own alle- gianea Ijbis composite CGBScicnce, this ultimate result c^ a number of consciences ioaed into ocie, is ^e authoritative rule of right and wrong in affidra of religion— it is the town clock of the spiritual world, by which all tibe watches that men wear in their fobs are to be regulated. It is ri^t, say the advueates of this systesa, that we all Hank togetiier-^ that our fittth should Hck. ia unison. Oh 1 the heinous sin of men thinking diSeremtly alwut fesi^ioml But sodi a SOS tthndtj as TBiiety of judgment seems to be inefvitaUe whilst men oontinae to think for themselTes. How mni^ more fitting that some party shoold think for them. It was a great mistake to endow men with consdenoes at alL We most try and rectify it We must promnlgate a <9eed and mlnic of right and wrong ; and let them be ri^t and wrong to everybody whether they think so or not K any power on earth have authority to determine in matters of religion, all we can say is, that it is difficult to ocmcdve the reason why the herd of mankind aretroaUed with conscienoes at all— unless, indeed, to be employed as driven on the estate of which a company of priests have usurped the proprietorship. In that case, however, it seems desirahle that some marked distinction should have obtained between the consciences ordained to rule and those ordained to sub- mit — and in the spiritual worid there should have been n^roes and whites. The shallow, babbling, empty headed, arrogant priests, who claim to have the right of ordering Conscience down from the throne on which Grod has placed him, ought to show some better credentials than black clothes and white cravats. And yet in what else they differ from their fellow-men it is hard enough to discover. That they can pretend more we know well, but " great swelling words of vanity " are no veritable and infallible guarantees of the rightfulness of spiritual domination. What more can they do? Can they preach? so can we — pray? so can we — meditate 1 so can we — discern things that differ ? so can we. There is only one thing they can do which we cannot. Either befool themselves so ^ as to believe, or disgrace themselves so far as to pretend, that Heaven has authorised them to spit upon Heaven's own viceroy, Conscience — to hoot at him, and smite him, as other priests once smote his Master. We do not see why, because they can do this, they are therefore warrcmted in doing it. \ THE RIGHTS OF CONSCIENCE. 209 The truth is, the alleged necessity v for uniformity of &ith and worship is nothing but a pretence for uniformity of pay. The clergy, like Friar Tetzel, cry up their wares, and extol the peculiar and exclusive virtue of their creed and their ministration, that men may imagine they receive for money more than mone/s worth. The State Church cannot compel submission, and yet leave conscience in a position of supre- macy. One or the other must yield. An expensive Estab- lishment like ours will not long be supported, whilst reasonable men are allowed to use their reason, unless it can show some special good which it alone can compass. Not having this to show, reason must be dethroned by impious quackery — quackery which when men can stoop to practise they are given up to believe. Men must cease to be men, that priests may be priests— and God in the soul must be lorded over by stupid fictions of State-made clergy. Yiew this beside Christianity. "Look on this picture and on that " — ^is it not " Hyperion to a Satyr " ] Which comes to us from above, and which from a long way under above, we leave our readers to determine. VIII. THE WRONG SIDE TJPWAEDS. The valuable results attainable by a division of labour are, in this country at least, pretty generally recognised A man is far more likely to do one thing well than ten things. Suppose all the ten things, nine of which a man cannot do, to be equally necessary to his well-being as the one which he can do. What is, in such case, the dictate of common-sense ? Not, certainly, that he strive against impossibilities, and wage a fruitless contest against the unchangeable laws of his present existence, but that he wisely attempt to avail himself of those very laws, and turn them to account for the accomplishment of his own ends. In doing this he biings out a vivid iUns- tration of the maxim, "Knowledge is power." The very conditions of our social being, those relations of depen- dency in which we stand one to another, the dexterity acquired by habit, and the due subordination of part to part in the machinery of society, may thus be naade — abstractions as they seem — ^to work for us, to become force, to produce material results. To "knowledge" it is given to harness even the most impalpable laws and make them carry us whither we will ; and to tame to our own purposes, not merely things themselves, but even the invisible and metaphysical links which connect this thing with that, and that with something else. All meoi saem to understand this, and most men to act upon it. THB WRONG SIDE UPWABD8. 211 It would be a strange thing if we did not find in a system of religions truth something analogous to this. Priestism Christianity utterly rejects. Any intermediate atUhority between us and God we are required to re- nounce. This is one thing. It is a very different, and to our minds a perfectly philosophical arrangement, for men to select from amongst themselves one whom we shall venture to designate a thoughtsman for the rest — one whose specific business it shall be, seeing that every-day concerns engross the attention of most of us, to make himself intimately acquainted with truth, to spend his life in exploring it, to do nothing else than dig out solid masses of valuable ore, for the common benefit of all. It is only by this economy, this wise distribution of labour, that an extensive acquaintance with the phenomena of Christianity can be generally diffused. Thus it is that one mind may pursue the work of investigation for many, and abridge for them the labour which else would be indispensable for all. Christianity not only sanctions, but enacts this ar- rangement, guarding it on all sides, however, by checks which may prevent it from degenerating into priestism. And they who thus give themselves up to work exclu- sively for the spiritual advantage of others, she com- mends to their esteem and to their temi)oral support. " The labourer is worthy of his hire." This is but fair. All things are here presented in their natural order. We have desert first, and then its reward; man doing somewhat for others whereby others become in debted to him; he leaving temporal affairs, that for their benefit he may give himself to the exclusive care and study of spiritual things; they availing themselves for instruction of his knowledge of truth, and supplying his worldly wants according to their ability. We have here 212 THE WBOKG SIDB UFWA3I>8. the right side upwards — religion first, then tlie secular :arrangement6 necessary to its sustentation, the last being 'wholly subordinate to the first, springing obiioualy enough out of the necessity of the case. This natural order of things a State Church deliberately :and impudently reveraes. It . begins by ordering a levy upon temporal things^ leaying the religious instruction to follow as best it may. And the ground upon which it bases this equally unphilosophical and unscriptural arrange- ment is one of tibie most curious illustrations on record of the wisdom of aristocratic legislation. The message we have to bear, say the adyocates of this system, is an unwelcome one. Men devoid of religious instruction are always disinclined to it; they have no natural taste for Christianity ; they are indisposed to go to it, and therefore it must be brought to them. Exactly . so ! We dispute not the truth, but its application. Men are disinclined to religion; and a strange method it is of overcoming that disinclination to introduce her to their notice dressed up in the odious garb of a tax- gatherer. The first word we hear from the lips of a ; State Church is, "Pay — ^pay first, listen afterwards if you please." You wish to instruct your neighbour in some truth whidi it concerns him to know, but from which' he has an avowed aversion. Your first act is, arming yourself with the power of the law, to seize a portion of his property, and tell him that if he wants an equivalent he may come to you at a stated time and place, and you will give him the information which he is already disinclined to receive, Now, we submit that this method is putting the cart hefore the horse, and exhibiting truth the wrong side upwards — standing the cone upon its head instead of its hase. Will Heaven's message come with more force from TH* WRONG SIDE UPWAEDa 2l5 the lips of men whose mibdistence is seized from theii* hearers by legal violence 1 Will the authoritative dom- mand of the civil magistrate to keep God's temple in- repair and pay His ministers add a prevailing argument to Divine truth ? Do we ordinarily listen with more- deferential respect to others because they are forcibly quartered on our resources] What persuasion will be wrought in the hearts of men by taxing them for Chris- tianity 1 How is this fitted to mollify their resistance of its claims 1 Surdy, if in any cause the intentions of the teacher should be visibly pure; if, in the en- forcement of any doctrine, he should be able to appeal to his hearers in the language of the apostle, "I have coveted no man's silver or gold or apparel"; if ever,, in aid of the system he advocates, the speaker should be able to exhibit a deep, spontaneous, disinterested bene- volence, a carelessness for himself, and an absorbing inte^ rest in the welfare of those whom he addresses, it is in* the exposition of spiritual truth. And the wisdom of a State Church can hit upon no better expedient tlian to present it to the view of men disfigured by exchequer - processes, stained with the squabbles of clergymen for their tithes, rendered hideous by church-rate seizures, and decked out in the garments of injustice, extoi-tion, and violence. Men are to be made loyal to the Supreme; and the very first step taken to accomplish this purpose is to seize their property for His ministers and worship^ By oppression they are to be taught kindness ; by legalised plunder they are to be inspired with love. The consequences might have been readily foreseen. The National Church has come to be regarded as a huge bundle of vested rights ; property takes precedence of purity, and fiscal laws throw into the shade the laws of faith. Wher- ever the matron moves we hear nothing but the jingle of in THE WBONG SIDE UPWARDS. money. Earnest religion is voted enthusiasm; and Chris- tianity is exhibited as having nothing to do in this world but to find incomes for a numerous clergy. The pay which is independent of merit seldom, and then only perchance, secures it. The spirit of the age can hardly mount, it is true, without dragging up after it the great body of State ecclesiastics. They are, however, a dead weight upon society. Meet with them in what age they will, they are always at the bottom of the scale — always resisting improvement — always obstructing the progress of the people. Why is this 1 Nothing can be more evident Because they are the only order of men for whom we provide pay, in the first place, and then leave desert to reach it if it please. The mistake is not that of Christianity, but of those who, misunderstanding it, have thrust themselves into the position of legislators for it. IX. VESTED RIGHTS. Were the representatives of our National Church put upon the defensive, and compelled to furnish an answer to the inquiry, what great practical object an ecclesiastical Establishment is designed to answer, we should not be a little curious to observe the mode in which their reply would be framed, so as not to involve the whole sj^tem in condemnation. We should imagine that it would be abso- lutely necessary to show an appearance, at least, of identity, in the main end of " the Church " and that of Christianity. Now the principal characteristic of Christianity, as far as we are acquainted with it, is that it brings to light another and higher state of being, and teaches us to make the present life subservient to the future. This we apprehend to be the grand truth which the Church is appointed to proclaim and to enforce. Men are apt to forget their high destiny — need to be reminded perpetually that this world is only a school for another — that although playing at inarbles may be very well in its place, they are sent hither to prepare themselves for something better; and we always thought that the Church was appointed to convince the grown-up boys and girls of society that the tops and akipping-ropes with which they amuse themselves are not the noblest inheritance which belongs to man. If such be indeed the object of a National Church — if she be designed to call away men's minds from the too 216 VESTED EIGHTS. ardent and exclusive pursuit of passing trifles — ^if she have any mission to fulfil with respect to the -world beyond death — if she be instructed to impress men with a sense of their own inunortality, and to educate them for that wider sphere of duties and enjoyments which immortality opens up to their view, then we must say, that of all means which could have been selected for the accomplishment of such a purpose, she has chosen unquestionably the oddest and most incongruous. Why, the teacher shows a more anxious care about marbles and tops, sets a higher value upon them, makes a greater outcry about them, sobs more bitterly over the loss of them, locks them up more securely, and fences them about with stronger guards, than any of her scholars. Her whole talk is about them. " Vested rights," is a phrase ever on her lips. All her quarrels are on this score. She never uses the rod but when these are touched or threatened ; and, according to her own representation, those committed to her charge will be best prepared to enter upon the larger world for which she is training them by showing the blindest and most implicit deference to her ** vested rights." "Vested rights"! What are they but an attempt by the Church to confer immutability upon that which the Church is appointed to proclaim mutable — ^to give per- petuity to what she tells us is passing — to ^ for herself that portion by law, which by the Gospel she assures us is worthless — to make herself a settlement here, under the pre- tence of teaching us the vanity of all earthly settlements f Her professed object is to convince us of the superiority of another world, and in order to the attainment of it, she begins by making herself a very comfortable and quiet home in this. A home she must have imdoubtedly whilst on earth ; but who so anxious and troublesome as she to get her property vested in her for ever and ever ? VESTED BIGHTS. 217 Seriously, nothing can be more marked than the contrast exhibited in this respect between Christianity and our Established Church— the avowed teacher, and, if we msy take the word of the clergy for it, the exclusive teaoha: (£ Christianity. The one aims to depredd^te in our esiimation all secular possessions, warns us against an undue attach^ ment to them, cautions us against anxiety on acooiHit of them, tells us to hold them loosely, imveils to our view somewhat unspeakably more important. The other, what* ever she may teach from the pulpt, shows a concern for the security and enlargement of her possessions on earth so intense as to have become proverbial. Her alliance with the civil magistrate, unnatural as it is, was contracted and ift maintained solely with a view to property. What would become of her, she pleads, without a settled and permanent provision? Faith is out of the question. Confidence in the Master whom she professes to serve she has none — ^none in the justice of her own claims— none in the gratitude of her own members. Her dowry must be settled upon her by law — settled upon her in perpetuity — settled upon her in such a manner that she shall be able to plead a vested and inalienable right in it ; and this done, she will preach the vanity of worldly cares. To us, it is one of the most astounding mysteries that men with brains in their heads and consciences in their bosoms, able to think and competent to judge, with the Bible before them on the one hand, and the statute-book on the other, should ever have suffered themselves to be befooled into the belief that two things so opposite afit Christianity and a State Church are nevertheless identical. The noise made by the latter in erecting a substantial and durable abiding-place, is quite sufficient to distinguish it from the former, who is satisfied with a tent, easily set up> and, if need be, easily removed. Bights of property vested 218 YISTBD RIGHTS. in the Church are regarded as the onlj foundaticHi of ecclesiastical stability by human legislators. The Supreme Lawgiver never even hints at such rights as important — holds them up as worthless — and tells His disciples to seek principally and first of all the establishment of His king- dom, and all these things will be given them as they have need. Exceedingly curious it is, too — and with this remark we shall conclude — ^that whenever the Established Church lays herself fairly open to the charge of immorality — a violation of a palpable law of her Master-^ it is always in pursuit of some "vested right." Whether murder be committed by her military in Ireland, or imprisonment by her courts in England and Wales, or robbery by her bailifl^ and police under church-rate warrants — ^whether every bond of charity be snapped asunder here, or division be stirred up there, or the spread of religion be hindered everywhere — ^it is always in defence of " vested rights." There would seem to be no law of man or God which this Church will not set aside in favour of " vested rights." '* Them first, them last, them midst, them without end." And this Church, which can scramble through every hedge of Divine precept in search of " vested rights," we are told to regard as the fittest, the ordy suitable instructress of our world, in the vanity of mere secular possessions, and the superiority of things beyond time ! Amiable and accom- plished hypocrite ! who can wonder at the kind of success jou have enjoyed 1 X. THE WEANGLER. No attentive reader of the history of this country cao. have been unobservant of ihe fact that the ecclesiastical Establishment has been, from its earliest days, a fruitful source of national disquietude — a perpetual blister on the back of the body politic. The temper of the " Holy Apostolical Church," as she is wont, with more vanity than wisdom, to style herself, has ever been not a little shrewish. Her quarrels have been many and various. Sometimes she has contended for power, sometimes for pence; and the weapons she has wielded, in every case, have fitted the hand of low malignity far better than those of gentleness and love. She is not only irritable herself, but she is the cause of irritability in others; and by the reflex influence of her example, the numerous sects who difler frx)m her, and whom she would fain scold into submission, have been very apt to practise intolerance one towards another, and to catch and evince somewhat of that bad feeling, a sanction for which they can always find in the conduct of a State Church. A main end of Christianity, we learn from the best authority, is imion. To "gather together in one" in stated emphatically to be its grand design. And the unity it seeks and enforces is a unity of character, heart, purpose. Attracting all towards one common centre, it secures, in so far as it is allowed free scope, that, end 220 THE WRANGLEK. which legislatiye authority vainly aims to reach — the government of the whole body by the law of harmony. Its provisions, so to speak, are all conceived in a spirit of broad catholicity. Legitimately carried out, th^ in- variably tend to the overthrow of mere sectarianism. Convergence is the characteristic effect of the system. Like the law of gravitation, its influence, wherever it reaches, brings nearer to each other the bodies which, but for it, would be fer distant. Territorial limits it never once recognises. It is a scheme to bless mankind, not to enrich the priesthood of England; and in perfect accordance with this its comprehensive object, it aims to secure oneness by producing agreement of spirit, not by clipping men's minds to the same pattern, as old- flMAiioned horticulturists do their box-trees and hedgerows. The halcyon days of the Establishment are gone by. The spirit of the age has played havoc with its consti- tution. Nevertheless, it is nowise altered in nature or in habit. Its identity is not destroyed by the decrepitude of age. Wrinkles and shortness of breath, weakness of limbs and shattered nerves, may forbid it to do v«^hat once it did, and yet leave the desire as stropg as ever. The true principle of a State Church involves the pos- sibility of all men thinking alike in matters of religion, at the word of command. In point of fact, a Kational Church is an attempt on the part of authority to compress all minds into one and the same mould. That the attempt in this grosser form of it was unsuccessful, is only what in the nature of things might have been foreseen. Equally rational it would have been to try and grasp water in the hand, and hold it firmly in one compact body. Un- happily, however, failure was not the sole result of this ineffably stupid experiment. It divided into numerous sects what it was meant forcibly to unite; and in thfe^ THB WRANGLEB. 2^1 place of geneiul agreement it produced aepai*ation aad bitterness. To our minda there appears no essential difference be- tween the spirit evinced by the State Church now and that displayed in former days. Division, rather than union, would seem to be as natural a result of eccle- siastical legislation when its object is universality of pay, as when it was uniformity of feith and worship. "Sup- port my sect," is a command not less likely to insure bitterness of feeling than "Think as I tell you." The outward homage which the Church constrains, unwillingly rendered, chafes and galls our natural sense of inde- pendence — throws us at once into an attitude of self- defence, and summons into play all those resentful feelings which, just in proportion to their energy, unfit the mind for union and peace. Mere theological differences have thus been rendered acrid by infusing into them questions of ascendancy and inferiority; and, lest the feelings of men who cannot think alike upon spiritual affairs should not be sufficiently curdled by the pride of intellect, the law Church adds the pride of station and secular autho- rity. Elements which might otherwise mingle and be one are thus turned sour and driven asunder. The law of love, which would draw all minds together, being abrogated, the law of compulsion and dispersion comes into full operation ; and the enactments which were in- tended to foroe men into agreement fall among the various sects as a hand-grenade in a crowd, driving all as &r as possible from the common centre, and consequently as far as possible from each other. Among the charact«nstio effects of Christianity, peace and love may be considered as holding no subordinate place. " Love one another '' holds a foremost place among: its commands. The means adopted by the State Church 2St THB lo inmre a nnilorm obaerruiee of tlus preccp i mie not «ii]j unreMonable, but 8df<xmtndictorT. Do men ever tunelj sabmit to polpaUe injustiee when tliere is the d%btest probabilitj of their being able gnccea afu lly to rewt itt Look at oar dmrdi-imte oontesta^ our tiUie iiq[iiabUe8, oar refusals to baiy the onbaptized dead, exhi- bited week after week throoghoot the lengths and breadths of the land. Priestiam has carried the torch of discord into every village of Ihe kingdom, and an annual conflict in a large number of places keeps ap an exasperaticxL of feel- ing. What other can be expected? The Establishment, too prood to ask, attempts rudely to snatch oar property firom oar hands ; and having regard to the composition of homan nature, what state of temper are such proceedings calculated to excite t Means thus alien to the spirit of truth are not Ukely to effect religious unanimity. The Church, by its connection with the State, is placed in the most unhappy of all positions. No breath of air can stir but it will necessarily shake the web of ecclesiastical conservatism. Every movement, civil or religious, which promises an expansion of the human mind, is consequently viewed by priestism as hostile to its interests, and out it rushes, like a black spider, ever on the alert to show its resentment of all intrusion. Or, to change the figure, the Church, conscious of the injustice which pervades its whole economy, like a peevish and vinegar-hearted step-mother, moves about in constant suspicion of machinations against her authority. Nothing is heard but scolding from morning to night. The infection seizes the otherwise peaceable members of the family, and in the place of harmony there is an uninterrupted din of wrangling and quarrel. Whilst she retains her position peace cannot be expected ; for an eccle- siastical Establishment is a spiritual Ishmaelite — ^her hand is against every man, and every man's hand against her. \ XI. SUMMING UP. Before we close the lengthened series of papers which has been devoted to an examination of the principle of a Church Establishment, we deem it expedient to present a short recapitulation of our labours, and exhibit in one view a general outline of the evil, the details of which have been one by one submitted to the notice of the reader. Our first business was with Dissenters. They had been long occupied in seeking a " redress of grievances." Their efforts had signally, we may say with truth, disgracefully failed. We set ourselves, therefore, at the outset to urge upon them the adoption of a bolder course. The separation of Church and State, as it is their real object, so, in our judgment, it is their proper, their right noble mission. That they have been unfaithful to the solemn trust com- mitted to them, we ascribe to the apathy of Dissenting ministers. "We have examined and exposed the fallacy of those pleas usually put forward in defence of their inaction. Upon the responsibility of the great body of Dissenting divines, we have largely insisted, and have endeavoured to rouse their zeal by demonstrating the vigour of the volun- tary principle, especially where, as in heathen lands, it has scope for free and unfettered exercise. The severance of the xmion now subsisting between Church and State we hold to be a practical question, not a mere abstraction, and the advantages of firm adherence and prompt obedience to 224 SUHHIKO UP. principle in preference to expediency we liave shown to be incalculable. The ground having been thus prepared, we entered upon the political aspects under which a State Church maj be properly viewed — what is practically involved in the notion of separation. We have discussed the evils of which it is the prolific parent. They are neither few nor smalL The Church of England, as the mere tool of our aristocracy, has been in all past times, and is at the present moment^ wielded against the just liberties of the people. The waters of political strife are embittered by it ; war, the worst, scourge of the human race, is patronised ; and monopoly is abetted by our religious Establishment. Its influence upon the Throne, whether in respect of legislation, or the distribution of honours, of the administration of law or the dischai^ of magisterial functions, is uniformly mischievous. Public political opinion it stunts and distorts, and to popular education it presents an almost insuperable obstacle. Seen in the light of mere reason and philosophy, the National Church appears to no greater advantage. The axiom so perpetually in the mouths of our bishops, that *' it is the unquestionable duty of the State to provide for the religious instruction of the people," if closely examined, turns out to be an absurdity. If religion be regarded as loyalty to the Divine government, if religious instruction be anything more than a simple mechanical exhibition of the truth, and if by the State be meant the King, Lords, and Commons, then a more ridiculous dogma than the favourite one just mentioned it is scarcely possible even to imagine. The effects worked out by the practical application of it are certainly as baneful as the maxim itself is imreasonable. It discourages free inquiry into theological science, by fijong a creed for its clergy, and requiring to it unhesitating sub- scription. It challenges opposition to Divine truth by <. suMMiKa UP. 225 giving to it the sanction of its own uncalled for^ and there- fore questionable, authority. The cure of souls, which ought to be regarded as imposing the weightiest of obliga- tions, it turns into a marketable commodity. Priestism is engendered by it — ^priestism, the first-bom child of worldliness and hypocrisy. The religion of its own mem- bers the Stat«-Church teaches them to devolve upon a parochial functionary, and to seek at the hands of the clergy a passport to a happy immortality, which will allow them to saunter thither through any bye-ways, and in any company which may suit their pleasure. Its very constitution ren- ders it necessary that it should resort either to open per- secution, which the spirit of the age prevents, or to tolera- tion, which, in fact, is persecution in posse; and, however painful may be the former, it cannot degrade those against whom it is levelled to a lower and a meaner position than does the latter. The sympathies and energies of Volun- taryism, as far as this nation is concerned, the State- Church oppresses and paralyses by a lie; and as to the mass of the poorer inhabitants of this coimtry, it has failed either to gain their confidence, to win their attachment, or to secure their piety. If we turn from reason to religion, and consult inspired truth in reference to a religious Establishment, our views of it will scarcely become more favourable. All the great objects of Christianity a State-Church would seem con- structed expressly to defeat. The one aims to govern human nature — ^the other, allied as it is with law, can command nothing but the ctctions. The first is gentle, and she comes speaking peace to the heart — the other allies herself with physical force, and seeks the maintenance of her clergy by means which are held to contaminate even a movement for political reform. Christianity is charac- terised by a beautiful simplicity — ^the State Church i^ Q iSm SVMMUfQ UP. overladen with the oroiAioents of ecclesiastical pomp. Thin fiarfoids lordship — ^that assorts and upholds it. The aim of the one is to associate goodness, for the purpose of pro- moting its influence — ^the other mingles all classes together pell-meUy for no other object that can be discerned than with a view to their being taxed by one order of dergjr* The flrst is characteiised bj a respectful deference to the lights of conscience— the last recognises no conscience hat the fictitious one of the State. In the one case we have wages appointed to the labourer — ^in the other the labourer is appointed to the wages. And this last feature of a National Church is productive of the following results — that she professes to teach the vanity of this world by means of securing in it vested and inalienable rights, and whilst professing to seek unity, is herself the parent of incessant discord. Such, then, is the evidence we have arrayed against the principle of national religious Establishments. There remains to us no further duty in this particular direction than the offering of a few concluding remarks. xir. GOKOLTJSIOK. Wb oanBo* persuade oursehres to close our somewhat lengthened discussion of the principle of a State Church, and of the frightful evik, civil, social, and religious, which invariably follow in its train, without making a remark or two of a general nature, suggested by the subject being considered as a whole. Those of our readers who have patiently (we dare not hope unweariedly) accompanied u» from the outset of our career, and tracked our footsteps through all the varied scenes through which we have deemed it our duty to hold on our undeviating way, cajanot biit retire with us from this chase of error, bearing upon theit* minds impressions, more or less distinct, which may b*> regarded rather as the combined result of the general cast and tone of the argument, than as the effect of any o»o specific view of the question to which their attention has^ been invited. Such impressions it is our wish to revive. Those indistinct thoughts which ever and anon presented themselves at different stages of our inquiry, shadowy,, fleeting, but yet perpetually recurring — recurring, too, with a more vivid show of reality, just in proportion as we drew nigh to our conclusion — ^it is our present object to resuscitate,, that they may be looked at afresh, viewed with judgments now somewhat cleared of the rubbish which habit had pre- viously sanctified, and seen with eyes purged of those films which early associations had formed over them. 228 CONCLUSION. We think it impossible for any of our readers to turn Hside from tlie contemplation of what is dignified with the title of national religion without being sensible, in some measure at least, of its utter insincerity. We speak not of the men who support it. What they may be as individuals, what the motives by which they are actuated, to what ext«at they are ignorant or mistaken, to what crafty or hypocritical, happily, it comes not within our province to decide. But that the system bears upon the &ce of it one thing, and carries in the heart of it another, and a very different one that whilst it speaks of heaven it means earth — ^that its whole machinery works in the opposite direction to that in which it was professedly constructed to move— that it is a hollow pretence, a shining lie, a many-coloured globule of inconsistency — ^mere sanctified imposture — avarice and ambition under the guise of religion — the grossest worldli- ness thinly gilt with spiritual seeming — ha^ we make bold to think, been pretty conclusively established. It is not simply that the institution does not work out the residts it professes to intend — this is not the ground of our hostility to it. It is rather that it does not, and cannot, intend what it professes — ^that it intends with the whole bent of its being something else, something which, if avowed, the bubble would burst — ^that were its means and appliances to com- pass the end they are devised avowedly to reach, and to fedl of producing the results which are stated to be no part of their design — that is, were they to succeed in promoting genuine religion, and to fail in providing revenues, and offering themselves as an engine of influence for the aristo- cracy, the whole affair would be speedily thrown up as use- less. Never was any people more effectually and more craftily deceived by mere words, than is our own by that ecclesiastical vocabulary which it has been the aim of suc- cessive generations to regard and treat as unquestionably CONCLUSION. 229 sacred. The things said of a State Cliurch have more weight, a thousand-fold, than the things done by the State Church — and so long as it gives out the sound of heaven, and rings like Christianity, we have been content to let it pass as pure gold, although, tried by every other test which knowledge and common sense can suggest, it turns out to be metal of the basest sort If our preceding labours have been of any worth — ^if the chaises we have endeavoured to substantiate are sustained by any tolerable amount of proof — ^if we have given a fair outline of our own religious Establishment, and of the effects which necessarily result from the alliance of things secidar and sacred, then the question of separation ought no longer to be regarded as a sectarian one, but rather, in the fullest sense, a national one. The whole people, save the small section comprising the patrons and recipients of Church property, suffer, whether they know it or not, incalculable mischief from the operation of the system. The tone which our National Church avowedly gives to class interests and class legislation — the burden she imposes — ^the useful reforms she obstructs — ^the vicious principles, both social and political, to which she gives her sanction — the popular ignorance which, if she does not create, she may be proved to have upheld — the debasing influence she exerts upon the religion of all parties and all sects — and the dis- esteem, far more widely spread than appears upon the sur- face, into which her grasping spirit and recklessness of morality have brought the Christian faith, render her a public nuisance, the speedy removal of which interests every class of people in this country. The question is not one of creeds, but of patriotism. It belongs not to denominations, but to the subjects of the realm. Whether the doctrines established be scriptural or anti-Christian^; whether eccle- siastical government should be Episcopal, Presbyterian, or -230 OOSCLGBIOH. 'Congr^ational ; or whether the formularies of the State Ohurch embrace more or less truth, may be inattmi lor grave discusaion, considered in thems^yes, but ttkey by no means appertain to the sulject of sefMunation. The^ ooBr troversj between the abettors and the oj^nenta of Sftaie Churches ranges only within ihe limits of this inqvixyy whether the ascendancy and legal mainteoaaee of any <»ie sect, are conducive to the civil, social, or religtoua i^«l£uw of the nation. The quesUon, therefore, is a naticmal one. The evils inflicted by an ecclesiastioal Establishment are inflicted upon the empire at large ; and honest patriotism, far znofe than sectarian zeal, is concerned in the rightful aettl^uent of the controversy. We have another remark to <^er — a remark, as it appears to us, of great practical importance. Hitherto objections to the National Church have involved the admission that the institution is a religious one. It has been treated as though it formed a section of the universal church of Christ. The language held towards it — ^the maxims enforced upon the dissentients from it — the line of defence which !N<hic(»i- formity has usually consented to adopt, have all combined to leave upon the public mind an impression that the Chiuxh of England is a true Church, which owing to various influences has wandered into the paths of error. Now, that a goodly number of sincere Christians may be found within its pale, and profess ardent attachment to its doctrines and discipline, we are not disposed to deny ; but that it is a political institution, not a sacred one — that it is maintained for secular rather than spiritual ends — ^that it is imder the government of worldly powers — that it comprehends within its bosom all dasses, without the slightest regard to their religious character — ^that it adepts means for the accomplish- ment of its objects which the whole spirit, and in many instances the express precepts of Christianity repudiate — CONCLUSION. 231 that it wants all the essential qualifications, not simply of a true Church, but of a Church in any sense, we take to have been abundantly substantiated. The controversy between its advocates and Dissenters will make little progress until this ground is boldly taken. Defections from the ranks of Non- conforming families will continue to go on imtil this view of the subject is fairly and honestly adopted by the friends of the Voluntary principle. We want the decision, without the violence, of the first Reformers. Our strength lies in aggression, rather than in defence. The system which at present obstructs the free working of Christian principles, and the general diffusion of Christian truth, must be smitten with the sword of sharp rebuke, and pursued with all the determination of purpose which should sustain the minds, and brace up the energies, of men who are aiming at the overthrow of Antichrist. Whatever there is of real good, mingled with the mass of corruption and evil, will survive the system which it now helps to sanctify, and by which its pwn elasticity and usefulness are well-nigh destroyed. Upon all National Churches is enstamped, in deep and indelible characters, the mark of the beast. All kind of alliance with them, the genius of Christianity strictly forbids. " Come out and be separate," is the only command which, in reference to these institutions, we are permitted to regard. Homage, the most indirect, paid to the State Church, is, in essence, the recognition of falsehood and the worship of a lie. II APPENDIX. Whilst the papers entitled, ''Political Views of a State CSraich,*' were in course of publication in the NonconformiUy a new pmr, called the Church IrUeUigemD&r^ uMadbBd the writers views on CSimdi property. A discussion 'fbllowed — and the following poges oontain two or three papers on the subject, just as they appeared. Thej are inserted, without alteration, that the tone of them may be moie easily accounted for, and something like continuity .preserved. APPENDIX. CHURCH PROPERTY NATIONAL PROPERTY. If the Church of England, "as by law established," has any other title to her revenues than that conferred upon her by Act of Parliament, they must be hers of her own right. ■. The Church Intdligencer implies that they were possessed by the Church "before any Parliament at all existed." We must beg him to inform us what Church he is speaking of. The Protestant Episcopal Establishment, claiming exclusive right to these ^nds, never had a legal being until the statutes 1 & 2 Edward VI. Tithes were originally set apart for the support of that branch of the Roman Church established in tlus kingdom. By that Church they were for centuries enjoyed, until, by Act of Parliament, 2 & 3 Edward YI., it was provided that if any rector, vicar, perpetual curate, or other priest, should, in future, say mass in the usual manner, and not use the Common Prayer- book, he should forfeit to the king one year's revenue of his benefice and be imprisoned for six months; l^t for a second ofil^ce he should be deprived of his benefice and of all his spiritual promotions, and be imprisoned for one whole year; and for a third offence, imprisonment during his natural life; and, further, it authorised patrons to appoint a Protestant successor, as if he were dead. If this be not, as we described it, a handing orer in trust by Pariiament her present temporalities to the Anglican Church, we must leave the Chwrch IrUeUigencer to tell us more precisely what it is. The original possessors of these funds are by law dispossessed ; and by law, authority is iSi APPKNDIX, given to appoint other men to the enjoyment of them in their stead. The State was either right or wrong in passing this Act. If right, then Church funds are under its control. If wrong, then the Protestant Episcopal Church has no title to them. If our opponent objects to take the Acts to which we have referred, as dccasive of the question, we beg to call lus attention to the 13th Elizabeth, c. 12, excluding from all share in the tithes or any other Church property, all persons who will not swear to, and subscribe the Articles of the Church of England. The effect of this Act is just this: the State declares — "You, the clergy, whom I permit to enjoy these revenues, shall obey my commands. The doc- trines I am resolved to promulgate are contained in these Articles. Preach them, and I will allow you the pay ; deny them, and the funds shall be withheld." Again we say, that if words have any meaning, this is Parliament ln^Ti^^i^g over to the Church of England temporalities in trust. That the Church does not hold this property in her own right is easily demonstrated. The Church IrUelligencer says, "It is true that although it has not the rights Parliament has the power to take away from the Church all or any portioD of her property; but it can never exercise that power only on the same principle and with the same justice and wisdom as it can take away Mr. j^oncon/ormist's coat from his back, or the property of any individual in the land." This is placing Church property on the same footing as individual property, to which the following objections may be urged : — 1. Individual property is possessed absolutely; Church propei-ty, only on certain conditions. The clergy are ser- vants of the State, paid their wages for communicating religious instruction after a certain creed. It matters not a rush whether their pension be a pecuniary or a territorial one. Their salary is paid for work presumed to be done ; and the non-performance of the work destroys the only valid title to the pay. This is not the tenure on which individual property is held. 2. Private property is held for the benefit of the person APPENDIX. 237 possessing it; Church property, for the benefit of the country at large. 3. Private property may be disposed of in any way the person possessed of it may consider fit ; the revenues of the Church are inalienable by the parties enjoying them. It is justly observed by Macintosh, that "It would not be less absurd for the priesthood to exercise such authority over these lands than it would be for seamen to claim the pro- perty of the fleet they manned, or soldiers that of a fortress they garrisoned.'* In each case the property occupied is that of the State. 4. Quoting further from this illustrious jurisconsult : — "It is confessed that no individual priest is a proprietor, and it is not denied that his utmost claim is limited to a possession for life of his stipend. If all the priests taken individually are not proprietors, the priesthood as a body cannot claim any such right ; for what is a body but an aggregate of individuals 1 and what new right can be con- veyed by a mere change of name 1 " Our opponent will forgive us, and oiir readers we are confident wiH not be displeased, if, in illustration of this point, we cite the language of another authority. Lord Brougham, in a speech delivered in Parliament during the session for 1825, after describing the rature of private pro- l>eYty, thus expressed himself : — ** But how did the property of the parson at all correspond with this description ? He could neither sell it, nor transfer it, nor leave it to whom he pleased ; but it passed from him to a successor of whom he knew nothing, and who, perhaps, had been his most mortal enemy. If private property were taken from an individual, the State robbed not onljr him, but his children, or next heirs ; but if the law said to a clerical incumbent, * The profits of this living shall cease after yoiur death,' who, in whom that clergyman had any interest, was in the smallest degree damnified ? Besides, was it not clear that private property was that income for the receipt of which the holder had no duty to perform ? The cler^ were omcers of the State, and, like other officers of the State, might be got rid of in proportion as they were no further required. If the Church property, as it was called, was private property, why was not the pay of the army and navy personal in an equal degree ? And the 2>ractice showed how the fact stood. If the tithe was really private property, it could not be meddled with at all." 338 APPENDIX. The Church IrUdligencer declares, that '^ Inasmtieh' as the property of the Church has been devoted and conaecrated to God, and His especial property, it is far more sinful to rob the Church than it is to rob a private individual." Thk i» taking high ground ; but is it safe 1 Our opponent seems to imply that the Head of the Church (we mean oar Xiond — not the Queen) takes an interest in worldly pn^erty for its own sake. Does he mean to affirm that if thie prresent apfdioation of these funds to religious purposes is f^nnd to impede rather than assist the cause of Christianity, the diversion of them from their present channel would incur Divine disapprobation ? Does Gk)d love money better than truth? We grieve that any professed advocate of the Grospel should put us under the necessity of asking the question. Besides, if it be especially the property of God, it cannot belong to the clergy — ^the only sense in -which we oan understand the term Church as used by the Intelligencer — unless they can show a clear warrant from Heaven for retain- ing it. The matter stands just thus : here are certain funds devoted ostensibly to the support of the Christian religion ; if it be found that the mode of collection and application is not in consonance with the genius of that religion, and serves, in fact, to secularise and corrupt it, it becomes every lover of truth to seek to put an end to the arrangement. To talk of the sinfulness of the attempt, is to do what the Establishment fatally encourages — it is to confound ti'uth with Mammon. TITHES AND BEQUESTS. It will save a vast deal of trouble to the Intelligencer if thus early in the discussion we untwist his tangled thoughts on other matters to which frequent reference must neces- sarily be made. It will at once furnish him and his readers an answer to every material objection he has yet offered to our sdieme, and prevent him, in future, from perpetratinc many a blunder. For without intending the slightest dis- courtesy, we may afl&rm, that even the little appearance of fbaneet wMch Im aargiiaifintat display, imirt.be>«8e«ilMd iSottliie unhecdtatu^g air wih irfaich ^ confoiuidft tldngs ndbii^ difier. 1. lijuay 1» very right for the State to protect ^hat it may h^Yegj wrong for the State to imppoort. Groveinim^itB aare instituted for the protection of our rights — of which, the mo9t Suable i^, liberty to worship God acoordiug to our ooiuieienea Thus much the State ia bound to secure to aU its subject; and, if the meetings of Dissenters for thia sacred purpose be disturbed by lawless violence, as citizens, they dot right in clabning the interposition of the magistrate.' Thia is a very difiTerent matter from asking State support. Had our opponent seen the distinction, he might have spared hims^ the pains of putting forward the case of Lady Hewl^s chsurity. The wisdom of disputing before civil tribunals respecting the legal application of endowments for rehgLous purposes, may be open to a question; but the inconsistency of the man who repudiates the support of his faith by public money compulsorily exacted, and who at the same time claims the assistance of the State in what appears to him to be the proper appropriation of funds voluntarily bequeathed, must be clearly pointed out before it can be fitly designated by the epithet *'pr^)ost«rous.'^ 2. Our opponent must learn to distinguish between "tithea" and "property bequeathed " — ^and when he speaks of property bequeathed to the Bomish Church (in almost all cases ** e:Kpiatory donations from wealthy sinners, bestowed expressly for the purpose of obtaining the Church's carmina- tive to soothe the irritability of a feverish consoiwice," or " property made over to priests in exchaoge for their inter- cessory influence in fjavoor of souls in purgatory ''), he is havdly warranted in saying that it was bequeathed " for the express purpose of promulgating the doctrines of the Book of Common !ft»yer," by wluch that same Romish Church is denounced aa Antichrist. K §uch mystifications of plain truth win pass with his readers, it must be in consequence of their entire ignorance on such sulo^ects — ^but, really, he must not attempt to palm off upon us as genuine argument, stuff like this. What was given to the Romish Church 249 APPBKDIX. oertainly was not given " for the express purpose " of spread- ing the doctrines of the Church which overthreiv it. Not more correct is it to speak of tithes as property bequeathed. Even were history silent on this head, the uniformity and universality of this tax upon produce — it being always a tenth, and imposed in every parish, operatiiig as well upon recent enclosures of waste lands as upon those of old under cultivation — ^might suffice to convince us that in the proper sense of the term, taxes are not a bequest but a State grant And what the nature of the thing suggests, history confirms — the power of seizing a tenth of the produce of the soil, having been granted by Ofia to the priests of Hadrian I., for the avowed object of expiating a foul and villainous murder committed on his rival in the race of usurpation. Property specially devoted to God ! "Why, if we are compelled to rip up the history of Church property, how it came into the hands of the clergy, and how it has been dealt with since it got there, we will be bound to present from authentic sources a picture of rapacity, cruelty, cunning, and impiety, such as no other single subject can fiimish. Is it possible for the clergy to look at the Statute of Mortmain and not blush to speak of Church funds as bequeathed by the piety of saints for the advancement of Christianity 1 Was not the mass of ecclesiastical property wrung by clerical avarice, using the screw of superstition, from dying wretches whose lives had disgraced humanity, and whose ill-gotten wealth was at last the purchase-money paid to the priesthood, to open the gates of heaven ? We have only further to remark on this subject, that the power of tithing the produce of the soil, given by Offii to the clergy, was bestowed by him in his usurped capacity, as the supreme civil magistrate, for the property thus invaded was not iadividually his own. He chose to affirm practically ** Uetat c^est moi" and what the State imrighteously gave in trust in Offii's time, what it violently transferred backwards and forwards in Henry, Edward, Mary and Elizabeth's time, it may justly and peacefully resume in our time. Ajpmr&ix. 241; THE TESTIMOFE OF HISTOEY IN BS . TITHES. That tithes were claimed by the clergy, and in many inatances recd.ved previously to aay ^raot of them by the civil power, is admitted quo€td the fact, but not quoad the argument. Neither the claim, nor obedience to it, oansti* tuted any right of property. Of^ King of Mercia, avowedly to expiate the murder of Ethelbert, King of East Anglia, whom he had received a;t his Court a suitor for the hand of his daughter, with every show of hospitality, first decreed the payment of tithes. Ethelwulf, probably affcer his return from Borne, to which city he had made a pilgrimage, and where he behaved in manner suited to his narrow mind, in making charitable foundations, and in extending over the whole of the kingdom the Rome-scot or Peter-pence, which the folly of some princes of the Heptarchy had granted for their particular dominions — Ethelwulf, in a decree, three varying copies of = which are yet extant, and the real meaning of whidi it is difficult to ascertain, is generally supposed to have conveyed a grant of tithes, with the consent of the Witan, to ihe clergy of Wessex ; which charter, by a council of the tributary states, held at Winchester in 855, was extended to all the nations of the Saxons. On these main facts we are agreed. And from these facts we deduce our first conclusion — that tithes became the pro- perty of the Church by a grant of the civil magistrate— in other words, that the State gave to the Church the power of claiming tithes, prsedial, mixed, and personal The next question which occurs is, as to the nature of the grant. Did the State let go its hold on the property thus allotted to the Church, or bestow it in trust, reserving to itself power to regulate and ccmtrol its distribution, and when it pleased to alienate it for ever ? From the first, the State has dealt with tithes as pK^)erty in trust So early as the reigns of Bichard II. and Heary 242 APPEITDIX. rV. it interfered in the appropriation of tithes, enacting (15 Ric. II. 0. 6 ; 4 Hen. lY. c. 12), as a check upon the avarice of monks and rectors, that curates, who, from being vice- agents, were then called vicars, should have some determinate support assigned to them for the perpetual maintenance of the cure. By the statute of 45 Ed. III. c. 3, great wood of twenty years' growth and upwards were exempted from the opera- tion of tithes. By an Act of 2 & 8 Ed. VI. barren heath and waste ground are likewise discharged. There can be no need to do more than refer, in confirma- tion of this point, to the Act (27 Hen. VIII. c. 28) by which " his Majesty shall have and enjoy to him and his heirs for ever, all and singular such monasteries, priories, and other religious houses of monks, canons, and nuns, of what kind of diversities of habits, rules, or order soever they be called or named, which have not in lands, tenements, rents, tithes, portions, and other hereditament^ above the clear yearly value of two hundred pounds." We think these facts, coupled with another fact, that Church property is wanting in all the attributes of property absolutely possessed, prove that the State which allotted it to the clergy, allotted it on trust, never loosed its hold upon it, regulated at its will the disposal of it, and resumed it as it saw fit. "We proceed to examine, on what Church this property was originally conferred. The Intelligencer says, " By * the Church ' we mean the Church of England, or, if he like it better, the Church in England, or the English Church, or if he wishes us still further to explain, we mean that branch of the one Holy Catholic and Apostolical Church of Christ which has existed here in England well towards eighteen hundred years, to which the tithes of England with other privileges and immunities were given hundreds of years before Edward the Sixth or Henry the Eighth were (was?) bom, and long before either Parliament or Popery existed." This reminds us strongly of a similar defimtion by Bardolph, ** I will maintain the word with my sword to be a good soldier-like APPENDIX. 243 word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommo- dated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or, when a man is — ^being — ^whereby — he may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing." Shifting the title "the Church of England" does not touch the question. The name represents a reality — ^has usually stood in this kingdom, and especially in connection with Church property, as the representative of a body of clergy, held together by some common bond, acting out some com- mon purpose. The clerical body called "EcclesiaAnglicana" upon whom tithes were first bestowed, were united by faith in the doc- trines of the Church of Rome, recognised its spiritual juris- diction, and sought to extend its triumphs. For near a century after the mission of Augustine, the great ecclesiastical chair in this country was filled by foreigners nominated by the popes. Ethelwulf, who made the grant of tithes, was a devotee of Rome. The alienation of them by ecclesiastics, whether to laymen or spiritual corporations, was abolished, and appropriated to those per- sons who had the cure of souls in the respective parishes, by Pope Innocent III. in a decretal epistle addr^ed to the Archbishop of Canterbury. To Edward the First the Pope granted (for the civil power was then completely subordinate to the ecclesiastical) the tenths and first-fruits of an ecclesi- astical benefice for six years; and it was not until 1532, in the reign of Henry VIII., that an Act was passed for with- holding from the Court of Rome the first-fruits which had been invariably paid. The Ghwrch Intelligencer may say, this was not -a branch of the Roman Church established in these realms — but it has equal reason to affirm this of the Holy Apostolical Church of Christ in Spain. Merely calling it the Church of England does not alter its real character. The clergy were members of the Roman Church, subject to its control, liable to be deprived, at its will, of their benefices, and dispensing its sacraments. To this clergy, for these purposes, tithes were originally given — and this clergy do not now enjoy them. Let us watch the process of ti-ansfer. 244 APPESTDIX. In answer to our aasertion that ^' the Protestant iBpisoopal Establishment claiming excluHiye right to these fundb^ never had a legal being until the statutes I & 2 Ed. VI.," the €hurch Intelligencer^ who afterwards speaks of our *^ Tna}nr\g vague assertions about Acts of Parliament which -we never ^aw and which never existed," challenges us to prove " that 4in7 such thing as the Prot^ant Episcopal Eirtabliahment received a legal being from those acts, or is even once mentioned in them or in any other Act of Parliam(»Lt what- soever." That it is not mentioned by name is true — ^nor is it^ that we are aware of, mentioned in the New Testament. As in the one case, the absence of the title would not be held by the Intelligencer as proof that the thing represented by that title was not to be found there, so, if we find the thing in Acts of Parliament, he must excuse us for standing by our first assertion. It matters very little whether the cart is brought to the horse, or the horse to the cart, when the inquiry is, as to the party that brought them together. We say that the Protestant Episcopal Church was consti- tuted the Church of England by Act of Parliament, and was put into possession of ecclesiastical funds in the place of the Romish Church, which was thrust out to make room for it. What matters it whether the Church set apart a clergy for the tithes, or set apart the tithes for a clergy ? The title by which the clergy hold the tithes, is the Act of Parliament that brings into legal association the one and the other. We shall cursorily glance at these Acts which the IntelU- <jencer says never existed. The statute 1 Ed. VI. c. 1 enacts, that "the most blessed sacrament be hereafter commonly delivered and ministered unto the people within the Church of England and Ireland, ^md other the king's dominions, under both the kinds^ that iia to say, of bread and wine." The statute 2 & 3 Ed. VI. c. 1, after setting forth in the preamble, that the ad appointed the Archbishop of Canterbury and others, " to draw and make one convenient and meet order, rite and fashion of common and open prayer, and admims- Appsxdix. 2^ tration of the sacraments, to be had and used in his Majest/s realm of England and in Wales," proceeds " to give to his Highness most hearty and lowly thanks for the same," and enacts " that all and singular ministers, in any cathedral or parish church, .... shall, from and after the feast of Pentecost next coming, be bounden to say and use the mattens, evensong, celebration of the Lord's Supper, commonly called the mass, and administration of each the sacraments, and all their common and open prayer, in such order and form as is mentioned in the same book, and none othet or otherwise " ; and further that " if any such person once convict of any such offence (viz., * to preach, declare, or speak anything in the derogation or depraving of the said book, or anything therein contained') shall after his first conviction efbsoons offend .... shall therefore be deprived ipso /acta of all his spiritual promotions, and that it shall be lawful to all patrons, donors, grantees, of all and singular the same spiritual promotions, to present to the same any other able clerk, in like manner and form as though the party so offending were dead." We have here the saci-aments of a Church and the ritual of a Church altered by law, and the forms of the present Protestant Episcopal Church receiving a legal being by enactment — and we have a clergy, who down to that time administered the seven sacraments of Rome, and used her ritual, thrust out of office to make room for such as adopted the new faith and forms. The statute was repealed by 1 Mary, c. 2, sec. 2, but that again being repealed by 1 Jac. c. 25, this present statute stands now in force, excepting such part as is altered by 5 Ed. VI. c. 1, and by 1 Elis. c. 2. All that we now want to make a new Church of England, are articles of faith and a clergy. The statute 13 Elis. c. 12 thus opens :— " That the churches of the Queen's Majest/s dominions may be served with pastors of sound religion, be it enacted by the authority of this present Parliament, that every person under the degree of a bishop, which doth, or shall pretend to be a prieBt, or minister of God's holy word and sacraments, by 246 APPENDIX. reason of any other form or institution, conaecration, or ordering, than the form set forth by Parliament in the time of the late king of most worthy memory, King Edward the Sixth, . . . shall in the presence of the bishop, or guardian of the spiritualities .... declare his assent and subscribe to all the articles of religion, which only concern the confession of the true Christian faith and the doctrine of the sacraments, comprised in a book imprinted, intituled, ^Articles, (fee.,' and shall bring from such bishop, . . . under his seal authentic, a testimonial of such assent and subscription, and openly on some Simday in the time of public service . . . read both the said testimonial and the said articles, upon pain that every such person which shall not ... do as is above appointed, shall be ipso foAiio deprived, and all his ecclesiastical promotions shall be void, as if he then were naturally dead." The Act goes on to require the same assent and subsciiption of every future incumbent, and to declare that all admissions to benefices made contrary to the form and provision of this Act, " shall be merely void in law as if they never were." Here we have in these statutes the legal enactment of the sacraments, ritual, and articles of the present Protestant Episcopal Church, authoritatively displacing the sacraments, ritual, and articles of Rome, heretofore of force in this kingdom— and yet, because to both Churches the title Ls given "the Church of England," we are called upon to regard them as one and the same. We contend that when a body of men holding certain doctrines, submitting to certain jurisdiction, and seeking a certain end, are driven from the possession of the funds they have long enjoyed, to make room for men holding quite other doctrines, submitting to quite another jurisdiction, and seeking quite other ends, call the body by whatever name you will, it is not the same body before as after such interference. The title may be the same, but the thing is different We have now proved that tithes were originally bestowed upon the Church by the civil magistrate, that they are held from the State in trust and have always been so dealt with, APPENDIX. 247 that the Church which fii-st enjoyed them was a branch of the Roman Church, and that the present Protestant Epis- copal Church has no other title to Church property than tliat conferred upon it by Act of Parliament. FALLACIES LURKING UNDER THE TERM ^^ CHURCH." We have an indistinct glimmering of having somewhere read in our younger days — ^we believe in a book of vanity, but displaying great intellectual power withal, yclept "Arabian Nights" — of a certain genius who could dwell in a bottle, or occupy the space of a mountain, at will. "We should imagine, but that the writer was a genuine Mussiilman, that he intended to present his readers with a pleasant type of the term "Church." No descriptive title in use amongst us at the present day is more elastic. At times it would appear to represent a small body, say two or three, of believing men. Occasionally it stands for the bench of bishops. Usually, in connection with the subject of Church property, it comprehends the whole body of the clergy ; and, when argument requires a further expansion of the term, it can be made to embrace the entire nation. Sometimes it means a thing, sometimes a community of men. Now it stands for a fiction of the imagination, and anon for a substantial edifice. It woiild seem to be the legitimate representative of anything, or nothing, according to the convenience of the party employing it. We have no objection to this various use of the word under consideration, provided that the writer does not shuffte his cards. The utmost confusion has been intro- duced into discussions upon ecclesiastical topics by the practice of playing off this title sometimes in one sense, at others in a very different one. Of this species of sophistry the Church Intelligencer has largely availed himself, and, by a sort of hocus-pocus use of the woi-d "Church," has con- trived to give his articles an appearance of argument. 248 APPENDIX. "We believe the Chwrch InteUigencer himself 'would start with astonishment at the shrunken and shrivelled appear- ance of his reasonings were he only compelled to define the term in question, and rigidly to adhere to his definition throughout his entire course. As we shrewdly suspect he will never be ^ilty of so much honesty, we shall consider- ately relieve him of the necessity. And now " mark how plain a taJe shall put him down." The substance of the Chv/rch Intdligencer^s argument is this. The holy apostolical Church of Christ existed in this kingdom hundreds of years anterior to Popery itself To it tithes were given by the civil power, and in favour of it bequests made long before Henry VIII. or Edward VI. were heard of From the first it has been the Church of England, or the Church in England, or the English Church; consequently, the property which it enjoys, it enjoys in its own right, and, therefore, the appropriation of such property to civil pxirposes would be worse than robbery — it would be downright sacrilege. By the " Church of England " existing prior to Popery, he means, if he understands himself, certain congregations of professed Christians, unconnected with the State, holding fast, for the most part, the doctrines of the apostles, pos- sessing no legal claim to tithes, and supporting themselves, as all primitive Churches were wont, by the voluntary con- tributions of Christian disciples. XJpon the aggregate of these religious communities scattered up and down through various parts of the kingdom, he claps the designation " Church of England," and forthwith exclaims, " See here the venerable antiquity of our holy mother Church." It does not seem to occur to this writer, that if these societies of beUevers are fitly represented by this title, no valid reason exists why it may not be appropriated by the numerous churches of Methodists, Independents, Baptists, and other denominations of our own day. They are Christian bodies, they hold evangelical doctrines, they are unconnected with the State, and they exist in England ; and if the Protestant Episcopal Church derive her claims to property from these societies who transmitted none^ equally vaHd would be the claim of every Christian congre- gation in tiiese realms. Paadng forward from remote antiquity, we come to the mission of Augustine. We have now a new order of things. Troops of clergy, subject to the Roman P(mtiff, take spiritual possession of the kingdom, and the Church of which they may be said to <5onstitute the body, the head of which was the Pope, partly supersedes, partly absorbs the Christian societies planted here and there before their arrival. Their master, the legitimate successor of St. Peter, establishes an ecclesiastical chair at Canterbury — appoints its ftoGupants, and receives their homage. By working upon the superstitious fears of one of the vilest and one of the weakest of monarchs, this new clerical body obtained a decree for tithes. The Church is established, and wears the title—" Church of England." In the former case the term comprehended a few Chiis- tian commimities, nowise associated with the State — in the latter, a host of clergy sent hither by Rome, and under Papal control. We argue, that if the Protestant Episcopal Church does not hold its property by virtue of an Act of Parliament, the funds it now enjoys belong of right to the Roman Catholics — and we are told that " the Church " existed in these realms long prior to Popery itself. We go back to examine how the claims of our present Establishment spring out of the ante>Papal Church; and when we urge that tithes were not bestowed Upon it, we are led forward to decrees of Offa and Ethelwulf, made in favour of a Church which sup- planted the elder one. Now we wish to have one thing oV another. The title to the property is either derived from the constellation of voluntary churches which shone upon our land before Popery was established, or frx)m the decrees obtained from the State by the Papal clergy. If from the former, why quotes the decrees? If from the latter, why pretend to a right prior to them 1 We are reminded strongly of tJie dexterity of those sons of wit, who abstract current coin of the realm from the pockets of liege subjects of her Majesty, by shuffling a pea from one thimble to another, and practising upon the simplicity of spectators. The pea stands 250 APPISNDIX. for property, and the thimbles represent Churches. We guess that it is to be found first under this, then under that, but no! we are always wrong. It comes not from statutory enactment — it comes not from the Koman Church — ^it comes not from the ancient Anglican bodies — and yet, at need, it is foimd under each of them. What are we to do? First, this is the Church — ^then, this is not the Church but that — in short, everything is the Chiurch by which property may be secured. The whole trick consists in playing o^ the various meanings of the word, " Church of England." What is the " Church of England " but the nation viewed in relation to spiritual things? The National Church and the nation arc co-extensive, and made up of the same indi- viduals. This is the theory of an Establishment. By what right, human or divine, do the clergy constitute themselves ** the CTiurch," and pretend, in virtue of being so, to be sole legal possessors of ecclesiastical fimds? Were every one of them to die to-morrow, what right does any individual, or body of individuals, except the State, hold to tithes 1 Who would be defrauded, were the State to appropriate themi What man could complain that he had been robbed by the tyianny of the State? And if none, then what difference does it make, whether the clergy die all at once, or only one by one, as to the justice or injustice of this resumption of funds by the State ? The Intelligencer tells us the Chxmjh would be deprived of her own. Now let the Intelligencer just toss the term overboard, and inform us who are the rwen, singly, or in an associated capacity, that would be deprived of their own, supposing the proceeds of every benefice, upon the death of its present incumbent, should be diverted to civil purjioses, after allowing the patron reasonable compen- sation. Things do not claim tithes, but men do. To what men do they of right belong ? and whence did those men obtain their rights ? Until our adversary answers this, we beg to hand him over for cross examination to our able coiTcspondent, "A Wesleyan Dissenter," whose letter we have just at this moment opportunely received. Notice. — Any of the under-menlianed publications wiU be fonoarded by the PMisher (post free) on receipt of postage-stamps to the amount of tJie published price. This course is only recommended where diffi^ cultyis experienced in obtaining them through a local bookseller. 18, BOUVBBXB StBEBT, FlBBT 8IBBBT, E.C. KOVBMBBB, 1867. BOOKS RECENTLY PUBLISHED, OR IN COURSE OF PUBLICATION, BY ARTHUR MIALL. IN PREPARATION. I. In demy 8vo, 18*. (about 620 pp.). HISTORY OF THE FRES CHTJECHES OP KN'GIiAND, FBOM A.D. 1688 TO 185L By Herbert S. Skeats. [In December. %* The names of Seven Hundred Subscribers have been obtained to this Work. EXTRACT FROM THE ORIGINAL PROSPECTUS. **It is intended, in the Work now projected, to embrace not only a much, later period, but a wider range than has been taken by any former writer. The History of the Free Churches of England will be considered with reference to the principles which they express, the work they have accomplished, and the difficulties with which they have had to contend. Their political as well as their religious progress will be carefully traced. "The Work will treat of the Rise of Nonconformity after the passing of the Toleration Act ; the suflFerings of the Society of Friends ; the theological controversies of the eighteenth century ; the long history of the struggle for the repeal of the Test and Corx)oration Acts; the Church Establishment controversy of the years 1832 to 1837 ; and the subsequent agitation for complete Religious Equality. The progress and development of the Free as opposed to the State-Church principle and system will be considered, and the result, with respect to the character of the English people, of the work of the Free CSiurohes, be AKTHUB. "MTATX, PUBLISHER, 18, BOTTVlSBia ^n!^:^^^, 'S\:EBS: «^^K®K^« Liu of Booli pMUked h^ Arthur JGaU. shown. With regaid to the Utter subjects, it is intended, as will be necessary, to trace the history of the Established Church duiing the same period. '*The time to be brought under review in this Work embraces the most distinguished names in the history of English Dissent. Many of those who took their part in the Ejection under Charles IL were liviiig and had founded Churches when William IIL ascended the throne. To these follow, Daniel Defoe, Isaac Watts, Philip Doddridge, Thomas Price, Joseph Priestly, Michaiah Towgood, John and Charles Wesley, George "VMiitfield, Andrew Fuller, David Bogne, Robert Hall, John Foster, Rowland Hill, William Jay, John Angell James, and others. The history will close with the year 1851, when the Census of Religions Worship publicly established the numerical i)Osition, strength, and success of the Free Churches of England." EXTRACTS FROM REVIEWS OF PART L ** The first part is devoted chiefly to the rise and growth of Noncon- formity prior to the period at which the history properly begins, and it would be difficult to find a more able review of the Ecclesiastical History of England from the Reformation to the Revolution than is here given to the reader. Mr. Skeats bids fair to render a most impor- tant service to the Free Churches of the land, and it becomes them to sustain him in it by subscribing in large numbers to the work, and by taking care that no congregational library shall be destitute of it"— Christian World, ** The appearance of the first part of Mr. Skeats* History of the Free Churches of England, though it consists chiefly of but an 'Introduction,' containing a sketch of the rise of Nonconformity, and of its stni<rcrles up to the time of the Revolution, demands an immediate recognition, and, as we think, a very warm and emphatic conomendation to our readers. Within a few years we have had the period to which it relates, and its religious events, described by several accomplished pens ; but we venture to say that this iireliminary chapter is inferior to uo such essav or narrative, in knowledge and research, in intelligent aj)preciation of the time, in breadth of view, or in truth of representation."- — ^JVowcon- formist, ** When !Mr. Skeats announced his intention to write a History of the Free Churches, those who knew hina, whether i)ersonally or through his literary and political labours, received the announcement with much gratification, convinced that such subjects as the historian of the Free Churches would have to treat coidd not be in hands more able or more just. . . . We may expect it to take and keep a high place in our historical literature."— C/irw^taw Spectator, ** This work, which is to be completed in six parts, bids fair to be a j)opular and trustworthy account of Nonconformity to the present time. ARTHUR MJALL, PUBUSHEE, IS, BOTITEKCa «YKEE11, YVSfiV. STREET. Ziat of Books published hy Arthur Miall. . .... We notice that the author speaks fairly and respectfully of ?; Friends, whose rise and persecutions are repeatedly noticed.'— jPVieTiii. " So far as Part I. enables us to form a judgment, the execution will be as satisfactory as the plan. The facts are carefully given and _ admirably grouped. The style is vivid and clear. The spirit is gene- gtl rous and candid. To Baptists he has done more justice than any pre- - vious historian ; a result we owe not to personal partiality, but to his - convictions of undoubted historical fact." — Freeman. nl " Mr. Skeats has undertaken to meet a want which has long been felt I amongst intelligent Nonconformists, and this first instalment of his work shows very clearly tiiat he is thoroughly competent to the task." — Christian Witness, I *'In these first hundred pages Mr. Skeats gives little more than an introductory sketch of the ecclesiastical conflict — extending from the ^ Reformation to the Revolution, from the reign of Henry VIIT. to that of William IIL — ^in which our Nonconformist Churches had their rise. But this sketch is so ably drawn that we are warranted in expecting a fair and noble work from the artist's hands. If the omens of the Intro- duction do not mislead us, this will be on the whole by far the best popular History of the Free Churches — ^best for fulness of information, tor impartiality of tone, for grace of style, which it has been, or for some years is likely to be, our good fortune to receive. — General Baptist Magazine, II. Crown 8vo, 5s. DIVINE ASPECTS OF HUMAN SOCIETY. By F. D. Huntington, D.D., of Cambridge, Mass., Author of *' Christian Believing and Living," " Sermons for the People," &c. III. A New Edition, price 8s. 6d., cloth elegant, gilt edges, THE EXPOSITIONS OP THE CARTOONS OP BAPHAEIi. By Rev. R. H. Smith. Illustrated by Photographs. IV. A New Edition, price 2s. 6d., CONVERSATIONS ON CHURCH ESTABLISHMENTS. (Published for the Liberation Society.) Carefully Revised and Amended by the Author. [In December. AETHUB MIALL, PUBUSHKR, 1%, B0\3\^aKia «!a.^^EX:» ^E\SSS: Liii of Books pMishod iy Arthur MiaU. BECENTLY PUBLISHED. I. Now ready, 10a 6(7., handsomely bound, gilt or red edgee. EXPOSITIONS OF BAPKATiTi'S BIBI.S. By lu H. Smith, Author of the *'Ezpofiitions of the Cartoons of Baphael," &c. Illustrated by Twelve Photographs, printed by Dunmore. Yrom^e Athencpvm, — "Some years ago, the writer of these Ezpoo- tions chose Raphael's Cartoons for a subject of disconrse, and met ! deserved success for the little work. He has now done equally wisely ! for the lorffer and more diversified theme which is furnished by the | Loggia of the Vatican. . . . With regard to the manner in whicli \ the author's expositions have been performed, we gladly testify to the i intelligent feeling for art which he possesses and exhibits. " ! A New Edition, Crown 8vo, 8«. 6rf. elegantly bound, EXPOSITIOIirS OP GEEAT PICTURES. Illustrated by Photographs. Notice of First Edition. — "These great pictures have evidently been most carefully studied by the author, who analyses them thoroughly, and describes them at considerable length in a spirit of earnest and full appreciation of their merits, and with a desire to teach others not merely their value as pictures, but the important sacretl truths expressed on the diflferent canvasses — truths which can only be read by those who seek for something more than form and colour. The photograi)hic illustrations are taken from early engravings, not from the pictures themselves ; some of which, from their age and consequent loss of coloiir, woidd come out most inefficiently from the camera. These copies, therefore, reflect the originals of a more favourable time than our own." — The Art Jouiinal. III. Crown 8vo, 3«., THE PKIVATE LETTEKS OP ST. PAUL AND ST. JOHK. By the Eev. Samuel Cox, of Nottingham. "It is refreshing to come upon a little book like this, whose worth stands in inverse relation to its size. In no time of our history as a Christian nation has it been more necessary to cast out the evil*spirit by the exorcising presence of the good. Nothing can be more influential in leading people away from an endless disputing about questions that / _ ARTHUR MIALL, PUBLISHER, 18, BOXJVERIfi «EB.-EES, YLEEC STREET. List of Boohs ptfhlished hy Arthur Miall. had better be left to settle themselves, than an introduction such as this to one of the 'palace-chambers far apart' in the souls of the first teachers of our faith, where their policy may be found as lofty as their creed. People of different opinions, like rough boys, are given to slam- ming doors in each other's faces. This little book is a kind of wed^e to keep the door of heaven open. Every man of true heart and good judgment will read it with comfort and hope. We trust the writer will meet with such appreciation of his labour as will encourage him to do a similar service in regard to other books of the Bible. The book is delightful for its earnestness, large-heartedness, and truth." — Spectator. **A little book which makes no pretension, but has merits rarely to be found in more elaborate treatises, which is marked throughout by a singular power for developing the meaning of the text, which is full of thought, rich and variea in illustration, practical in its spirit, and earnest in its apjieals, deserves our highest commendation. Mr. Cox tells us that these singularly beautiful and striking teachings were the s^bstance of week-evening lectures in the ordinary course of his ministry. There is no pulpit to which they would not have done honour, and no congre^tion that might not feel themselves privileged in the enjoyment of a ministry so thoughtful, and yet so manly and so helpful. These discourses are very models of what Scripture exposition ought to be, and were ministers more frequently to treat Scripture in this way, we should no longer have the complaints, now only too frequent, of the dryness and barrenness of sermons." — English Independent IV. Price 5«., cloth gilt. AK EDITOR OFF THE IiINB; Or, Wayside Musings and Beminiscences. By Edward Miall. ** Never was Mr. Miall — so famous in the annals of ecclesiastical war- fare, apparently, at times, an imi>ersonation of sarcasm, bitterness, and scorn— seen at his ease and in his real domestic character till now." — British Standard. **He has a keen faculty of observation, and tells a good story with much vivacity and graphic skill." — Illustrated London News, "These essays are broad and generous in sympathy, vigorous in thought, and chaste in style, and belong to a class sure to have attrac- tions for a large class of readers, who wiS find occupation both pleasant and profitable for their leisure hours in such quiet and thoughtful musings." — British Quarterly Review, T. New and Cheap Edition, price 2*. THE NONCONFORMIST'S SKETCH BOOK. By the same Author. With Explanatory Preface. (Originally printed in 1841.) AETHUR MIALL, PL^LLSHER, 18. BOTTVlKia «XKEE^» -e\3ESI^ ^s^^KSSSt, 6 LUt of Books published ly Arthur MidlL VI. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 8yo, cloth, price d«. ^d, THE POIjITICS OF CHRISTT A "NTTY. ''A noble work, which deserves a place in the house of eveiy pounder in the kingdom." — Christian Spectator. VII. Third and Cheap Edition. Svo, cloth, price Ss, 6d. THE BASES OF BELIEF: An Examination of Divine Revelation by the Idght o Becognised Facts and Principles. [Out of p vm. THE BBITISH OHUBCHES IIT HEIiATION* TO T: BBITISH PEOPIjE. A few copies of the Library Edition of this work (originally j lished in 1849 at 10«.) may be obtained at 58. each, or 6& post tree application to Mr. Arthur Miall. They are uncut, and in a good state of preservation, the binding al being a little impaired by age. A few copies of the Second Edition, published in 1850, may aisc obtained from the same source for 2«. each, or free by post for 2s. 4d. JX. Fourth Thousand, price 6e?., or 35«. per 100. SERMONS PREACHED TO WOTLKINQ PEOPLE. By Very Rev. Dean Stanley, II. W. Dale, M.A., Revs. H. All- Edward White, Dr. Hamilton, Samx:^l Martin, A. Mackenn. and Mark Wilks. " There is not a sermon in the volume from which we could not c passages of power and beauty, and the liberal, manly, and candid sp which pervades them all must commend them to every intellig thinker.* * — Bradford Revieic, "This little sixpenny volume of sermons — which, it may be stated very neatly got up, and is a miracle of cheapness — has an interest the churches as well as for those who hold aloof from places of worsL Ministers and laymen will find in it useful hints as to the best meanf reaching the hearts of the poor, and improving their moral and so< condition ; working men maj" studv here some of the highest aspecte that pure Gospel which is especially a message of glad tidings to i * common people.'" — Nonconformist. " The sermons are of a superior order, solid, real, and to the point.' Daily Nevos. ARTHUR MIALL, PUBL18HEBL, la, ^0Tm2B.TE. «i:KEEt, Y^:K:srs. «tBK List of Booh published hy Arthur Miall, PAMPHLETS ON THE STATE-CHURCH QUESTION. THE IRISH BEQIUM DONUM: Its History, Charaoter, & Effects. By A Scottish Voluntary. Price 9dL **It is truly refreshing in these days of general defection from the standard of voluntaryism to read such a clear, vigorous, trenchant, and, -withal unimpassioned, exposure of the evils of endowments as "we have in this pamphlet on the Irish Regium 'DomxmJ*^ —Ardrosaan Herald, A LETTER TO THE BIGHT. HOK". W. E. GUiADSTONB, On the Present State of the Chnrcli Question. By Rev. Christopher Nevile, Late Rector of Wickenby, and Vicar of Thomey. Second Edition. Price 6rf. *^* This is an excellent Pamphlet for circulation amongst Churchmen. POLITICAL NONCONFORMITY: A Letter to the late Charles Robertson, Esq., of LiverpooL Price 6d %* The duties of Dissenters are strongly set forth in this Letter. WORKS PUBLISHED FOR THE LIBERATION SOCIETY. Just published. Second Edition, price 6d. THE IRISH CHURCH: An Historical and Statistical Review. By Herbert S. Skeats. " The Commission which the Government are now excogitating will tell us nothing that may not be got out of this book." — jSiglish Independent, Now ready, price 3«. Cd, cloth (pp. 450), STANDARD ESSAYS ON STATE CHURCHES. Twelve Essays, Extracted from the works of the most eminent writers on the subject, viz.: — Ralph Wardlaw, D.D., J. H. Hinton, M.A., John Brown, D.D., John Angell James, J. Pye Smith, D.D., Thomas Binney, David Young, D.D., Edward Mi alt,, Baptist Noel, Jonathan Dymond, Alexander Vinet, Alfred Morris. A ITEi-W EDITION of OONVEBSATIONS ON CHUBOH ESTA- BLISHMENTS. See V^OTla " in Preparation," No. IV. AETHUR MTALL, PUBLISHER, 18, BOTTTEBia ^TKEETt, lE\IESt 'S^^KESR.. TWENTY-SEVENTH YEAR OF PUBLICATION. THE NONCONIX)RMIST, A FIBST-OLASS WEEKLY NEWSFAPEE. EDITED BY EDWARD MIALL. Price 5d. / Stamped^ 6d. The Nonconformist Newspaper was establislied in 1841. Its primary object has been to discuss and enforce the great principle that the Church of Christ should be self-governed and self-sustained, and that the relation of every subject of the realm to the Government and laws should be determined irrespectively of his religions profession. Undenominational in its aim, the NoNCONPORinsT is supported by no sect exclusively, but addresses itself to intelligent and cultivated minds of aU ranks and parties. Its views, politically and ecclesiastically con- sidered, are those of advanced Liberalism, while in the support given to those views it is thoroughly independent. It is thus increasingly recog- niscil by members of the Church of England herself, many of whom, during recent years, have either formed or avowed the opinion that the principle of freedom in religion is equally consonant with the spirit of the New Testament, the dictates of reason, and the teachings of experience. Although the Nonconformist devotes special attention to all ques- tions relating to religious hberty, it is by no means exclusively au ecclesiastical journal. It treats in a thoughtful spirit all the im|X)rtant political topics thrown to the surface by the events of the week, its tone and style of discussing which have gained for it a commanding position in the weekly press. It contains a careful digest of all the news of the week, arranged so as to give the fullest information on those current topics which are most prominent, and adapted to be read with interest in the family circle. Religious and ecclesiastical intelligence in relation to the various Nonconformist denominations, is also a leading feature in its columns. Its reviews of books, &c., have sustained, by the abUity, honesty, and impartiality with which they are written, the high reputa- tion which the paper has acquired in other respects. The long-established connexion and widely extending circiilation of the Nonconformist make it a very desirable medium for advertisers. The Nonconformist is published every Wednesday afternoon, and may be ordered of any Newsagent, or supplied direct from the office on application to the Publisher. Unstamped, price &?., or 21«. 8d, per annum ; stamped, 6rf., or 26«, per annum. (^ o * Published by ARTHUR MIALL, 18, Bouverie St., Fleet St., E.C. y w A mwvo Thf TUX miVA' in> nT.jonsi. TWO ijfflcmi' PKOrffifl'ry. tU Il«*d» Y i*UB] ^.T<fr, « Tfr W't-h OOHVl Tv' iiioji*?/. S*ili* Uf, J. nitt}|. TV t>elh