Lord Ebury’s measure in the House of Lords did not go this length, because he had “Revision” more definitely in view; but his arguments against one form of Subscription are equally valid against all, so that its entire abrogation is, on his principles, only a question of time. There is, however, substantial agreement.
It is most important that this should be understood, and that no false issue be raised: and this is why I speak of the present proposal as one for the Surrender of the Prayer-book. Dr. Stanley would ask nothing so small as altering Articles or Liturgy; a far simpler way he would show us. Revision would be mere ‘nibbling’ while Subscription remained. An Act of the Legislature might just “prohibit,” he says, (p. 32) all “Subscription.”—Are men, then, so eager for it, that prohibition must be resorted to? He would not even leave it open to any one to sign; for thus he triumphantly proceeds:—“Not a word of the Articles need be touched. They would still be left as the exposition of the Faith of the Church of England in the eighteenth century!—as the standard of its faith at the present day. Not a word of the Liturgy need be touched. There are, no doubt, changes which would be acceptable to many, but THEY MUST BE EFFECTED BY OTHER MEANS,” (p. 33.)—Surely, said the wise man, “in vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird.” To tell us beforehand that we are to be coaxed into a general movement to get rid of Subscription, and, that being done, we must reckon on the subsequent change of the Prayer-book “by OTHER MEANS,” seems so very like an insult to the understanding of men of all parties who believe anything, that I can only explain it by calling to mind the proverbial blindness of genius when hotly hastening to its own object, and forgetting how it looks to all around.
But it may be said that I am overlooking that the Articles and Prayer-book, though not “signed” or “subscribed,” might still remain—at least, for a time—as what is called the “standard” of our doctrine. Let us inquire, then, what this means; for, unless we look it steadily in the face, we shall be deluding ourselves again by an ambiguous word. It is suggested by the passage quoted from Burnet (p. 7), and in the argument of Dr. Stanley, that we English are generally governed in other matters by Acts of Parliament,—and why not in religion? We are not expected to “subscribe” the law of the land, but simply to acquiesce, and submit to it. It is not binding on the conscience, but only on external obedience. A man may stand up and read a Statute to others—and then argue against it. While it exists as law, he must be judged and ruled by it; but he is free to dislike it, and may labour to change it. This is the parallel suggested, or if it be not, I have no idea of what is intended; and I must say, that when thus nakedly looked at, it is the most unveiled Erastianism avowed in our times, if we except Mr. Bristowe Wilson’s in his Essay. It is what we might expect of Burnet, but scarcely of Dr. Stanley, to make the Prayer-book “a legal standard,” but not a matter of belief: it simply astonishes us. When a great statesman of the last age told us that our religion was but a “schedule of an Act of Parliament,” we could at least reply that “ex animo” Subscription makes it our own; but to ask us now to take away even this, seems almost to sever all connexion between the Church of England and the moral agency of her Ministers. The Act of 1662, and its “schedule,” the Prayer-book, might be our “standard” till the next session, and might claim as much reverence as any other old Act of Parliament,—but no more. Put the whole proposal, then, of Dr. Stanley, and of Mr. Wilson, and others into plain English, and it is this—(and I ask to be corrected if I misinterpret it)—“Let the clergy in future sign NOTHING, but let them consent to adopt and use what the Parliament may from time to time authorise.”
The object, then, being thus simplified, we need not here pause to estimate the excellences or defects of any of the formularies which we all alike have thought to be good enough to sign. With more than judicial fairness, Dr. Stanley admits that the whole Thirty-nine Articles are “incomparably superior” to the “Nine Articles of the Evangelical Alliance” (p. 11), or any that would be drawn up by “the dominant factions” of our Church, or Commonwealth. But this kind of criticism may well be postponed till the prior question is disposed of—whether we should “sign” any thing? When the Articles and Prayer-book come to be hereafter discussed, these details may have interest with some, as parts of the literature of the “Eighteenth Century;” but at present might it not be disrespectful merely to glance at them in a sketchy way, to give pungency and interest to a somewhat barren subject? I do not say that the highly rhetorical sentences in which praise and blame are judiciously administered by Dr. Stanley to Article 1, 5, 9, or 34, contribute nothing to the effectiveness of the pamphlet with the “general reader;” but it is obvious that with the argument, strictly speaking, they have nothing to do.
Dr. Stanley’s Three Arguments.
The Relaxation of Subscription appears, as far as I can gather, to be urged by three arguments,—the first founded the origin of the “Subscriptions” among us after the Reformation; the second, on the alleged absence of “Subscription” in the Primitive Church; and the third on the practical evils of the present state of “Subscription” in the Church and in the Universities. If I examine each of these, I shall not, I think, have omitted any point hitherto prominently alleged in this controversy.
I. “The Church of England, as such, recognises absolutely no Subscriptions.” Such is Dr. Stanley’s proposition (p. 38). The tests of membership are “incorporated in the Services to the exclusion, as it would seem, of all besides.” It is added (p. 39)—“These other obligations were, in fact, not contemplated at the time of the first compilation of the Prayer-book and Articles, and have grown up as a mere excrescence through the pressure of political and ecclesiastical parties. The Articles were not subscribed (by anything like general usage) till the 12th year of Elizabeth; they were then, after much hesitation and opposition, ordered to be subscribed for a special purpose,” &c.
The Reformation.
Is it possible to suppose that Dr. Stanley means this for a fair representation of the spirit and design of the Church of England, from the beginning of the Reformation to the 12th year of Elizabeth? He writes as though the Articles were all really to be signed, and the Prayer-book all settled, and that the Church during all that time deliberately intended to leave her members such freedom of opinion as he and others would now restore. If he does not mean this, his argument falls to the ground. But what are the facts of the case?
Elizabeth ascended the throne at the close of the year 1558. Every position of trust throughout the country was then held by Roman Catholics. The bishops and the clergy were generally devoted to Rome. The Convocation met, in two months, and drew up Articles presented to Parliament, which are described as “flat against Reformation, and subscribed by most of the University.” Even Cambridge is said to have given her approval. At such a crisis, it was evident that some years must elapse before any such Revision of Edward VI.’s Articles could be hoped for, as would obtain general consent. But to represent this pause as a kind of freedom from “Subscription” enjoyed in earlier and more liberal times, to say that “the Church,” at least, was ignorant of this device, when “Subscription” to certain “Articles” was the first step which the Convocation and the Universities naturally took, immediately Elizabeth came to the throne, surprises me beyond what I like to express. The “general reader” is entirely at the mercy of so eloquent a writer as Dr. Stanley, and it is not too much to ask that he use his power with a little generosity; or if he will not, it becomes imperative that his representations be translated into a humbler style, that the world may judge how they look. The facts of the case are, in truth, opposed to all that Dr. Stanley’s argument requires. Instead of the twenty years and more, which preceded Elizabeth’s 12th year, being years in which the Church of the Reformation adopted laxity as its principle, the whole of the period, from the beginning of the reign of Edward to the year 1571 (with the exception of the brief interval of Mary’s government), was occupied in a careful effort on the part of the Reformers to tie down both clergy and laity by the strictest body of ecclesiastical law, perhaps, ever attempted to be enacted in the Christian world.
The Reformatio Legum.
I refer, of course, to the “Reformatio Legum.” The Archbishop of Canterbury, the subsequently-elect Archbishop of York, and certain suffragans; great Reformers, such as Peter Martyr and Rowland Taylour; known scholars, such as Sir John Cheke and Dr. Haddon, were engaged in this business, which was looked to as the crowning act of the Reformation of Religion. Archbishop Parker took up the work which Cranmer had begun, and even pressed it on the reluctant Queen as far as he dared.
Subscription demanded in 1553.
The connexion of the Reformatio Legum with the Articles of our Church, and the light which they throw on each other, I need not point out to any who are acquainted with the history of our Church at that time. The Forty-two Articles, from which our Thirty-nine were, ten years afterwards, derived, were first published in 1553. In the November of the preceding year, Cranmer proposed that the bishops should have them at once subscribed throughout their dioceses. The death of King Edward prevented this from being accomplished. They were revised and subscribed by Convocation in 1563, in the name of the whole clergy of England. The early chapters of the Reformatio Legum contain the doctrine of the Articles, and were, no doubt, intended to be an authorized exposition of them. How strict a system was meant to be inaugurated by the Reformers may be judged by even a superficial perusal of that Book. Heresy and blasphemy were to be punishable by death. Adultery was to be visited with imprisonment and even banishment. Impenitent persons were to be “handed over to the civil power.” All this was the sort of Discipline which was waiting to be put in force as soon as the Reformers could persuade the nation to bear it;—and yet this is the supposed time when Subscription was alien from the mind of the Reformed Church!
Temporary restriction of the Clergy.
Subscription in 1564.
But during this interval of twelve years, while the bishops were doing their best to bring the clergy and people to Uniformity, and preparing them for the “Discipline” which was openly clamoured for, we find that immediately after the Articles were published, “advertisements” came out by authority further to restrain the liberty of the preachers. In 1564, the clergy, who had by their proctors subscribed the Articles in Convocation, were required “to protest and subscribe” that they would not preach at all without special license from the bishop, but “only read that which is appointed by public authority:” and further, that they would “observe, keep, and maintain, all the rites, ceremonies, good usages and order” set forth by the Act of Uniformity. Here then was “Subscription” to the whole Prayer-book as it then stood. And, indeed, even three years before, the “readers” in Churches were obliged, by “Subscriptions” to certain injunctions, to execute their office within prescribed and narrow limits. The state of things doubtless was still felt on all hands to be but provisional. The great Roman Catholic party waited, without separating formally. The Puritans were stirring themselves in the cause of “Discipline:” it was hoped by both parties that some change might, from the lapse of a few years, better their position. The latter reckoned on the more aged of the old Popish Clergy dying out; the former were encouraged by a fanatical prophecy to expect the death of the Queen herself in the twelfth year of her reign; but after that time the Puritan and Popish parties became openly defined, while the Church had as yet no such “Discipline” as could hold her members together at all, except by the Court of Commissioners. It was to restrain both parties, then, that recourse was once more had to “Subscription.”
Can there be need, my Lord, to pursue any further an inquiry into so well known a piece of history as this? I should not have said so much, had not the Ecclesiastical History Professor declared that Subscriptions and Declarations of Faith were “not in fact contemplated at the time of the first compilation of the Prayer Book and Articles;” that Subscription is “superfluous,” “needless,” “capricious,” “extrinsic,” and “accidental,” (pp. 38, 39), “and that the Church of England, as such, recognises absolutely no Subscriptions!” I submit to your Lordship, that the Church of England “at the time of the first compilation of the Articles and Prayer Book,” encouraged no freedom whatever to diverge from the one or the other—demanded Subscription (by Cranmer) in 1553—obtained it from all the bishops and representatives of the clergy in Convocation in 1563—and laboured to restrain both Papists and Puritans within more and more rigid limits year by year, till by the thirteenth of Elizabeth “Subscription” was universally enforced, as the only practical substitute for that Ecclesiastical Discipline which was refused.
I have purposely abstained from here noticing minor inaccuracies which singularly abound in the learned Professor’s letter, and have kept to the main point. His position is that since the twelfth year of Elizabeth, a stern and gradual growth of Subscription has superseded the liberal system of the earlier years in which the tolerant Church “knew absolutely nothing of Subscription!” Without this, again I say, his argument comes utterly to an end. It will be useless to weigh syllables, and retreat upon the ipsissima verba of the Letter. The broad representation means this, or it is nihil ad rem. And the whole history of the period is again, directly the reverse of the representation given by Dr. Stanley. [18]
The Primitive Church.
II. I pass, then, to the next point—the alleged absence of Subscription in the primitive age. Not content with the reference to the history of our own Church, Dr. Stanley says:—“I will not confine myself to these isolated instances, but examine the history of Subscription from the first. For the first three centuries the Church was entirely without it.” “The first Subscription to a series of dogmatical propositions as such was that enforced by Constantine at the Council of NicÆa. It was the natural, but rude, expedient of a half-educated soldier to enforce unanimity in the Church as he had by the sword enforced it in the empire.” (p. 35). Again, I am painfully compelled to meet the statements of Dr. Stanley with a direct negative. The case is not as he states it. A “rude soldier,” in those days—(when comparatively few people wrote at all)—would not, I think, have been likely to invent this “expedient:” but, in fact, he did not invent it.
Council against Paulus Samosatemus.
I do not suppose for a moment that Dr. Stanley could care to make a merely technical statement as to the mode in which adhesion was signified to a dogmatic series of propositions. No merely formal position of that kind could serve the argument. The position which he lays down must be that, before the time of Constantine, there was that freedom allowed which is demanded by those who object to Subscription now,—that people were not, in those days, called on to profess their belief in any set of “dogmatical” statements as tests of orthodoxy. If, then, he will look back sixty-six years before the Council of NicÆa, to the Council of Antioch (of which Constantine was quite innocent), against Paul of Samosata, there he will find the copy of a letter from certain orthodox bishops, HymenÆus, Theophilus, Theoctenus, Maximus, Proclus, and Bolanus, setting forth a series of dogmatical propositions, more minute and lengthened than those of NicÆa, and concluding with these words—?a?ta ?p? p?e?st?? ????a s?e??s?e???, ?????e?a a?e??, e? t? a?t? f???e?? ??? ?a? d?d?s?e??, ?a? ?p?s?e??sas?a? se, e? ???s??, t??? p???e??a?????, ? ??. If he would not write, he must make his mark—give some sign, at all events—whether he “held and taught” as there set forth in writing (p???e??a?????)—yes or no; or submit to lose his office in the Church—(?a?a??e???a?.)—Routh’s Rel. ii. p. 465, &c.
Council against Noetus.
A few years earlier, the case of Noetus was treated in a similar way. The assembled Presbyters, after confessing the orthodox faith, cast out the heretic for not submitting to it. The Council of Eliberis, in Spain (before the Nicene Council), put out eighty-one canons, or chapters, of a mixed kind, dogmatical and disciplinary, “et Post Subscriptiones Episcoporum in vetusto codice Urgelensi leguntur sequentes presbyterorum,” &c.—Routh, iv. 44. Doctrine of Novatian severity is there put forth: I refer to it not for any other purpose than to adduce the fact of Subscription—(and Subscription, too, in the presence of the laity),—or at least the fact, that there was no authorized laxity in those days, such as Dr. Stanley’s argument requires.
Discipline in the Church.
And here I would remark, my Lord, on the obvious difference between a state of the Church in which there was a system of Discipline holding together the whole body, and a condition like our own, when Discipline is acknowledged to be extinct among us. When bishops met together periodically, as they then did, to regulate the affairs of the Church,—and stood in mutual awe of each other’s spiritual powers;—when dismissal from Communion was a chastisement shrunk from, by laity and clergy, with terror,—it might have been easy to do without such Subscriptions as now attempt to guard the orthodoxy of our people. So again in the Pre-Reformation Church; the organization of the hierarchy, and the necessary submission of the people, might often render Subscriptions more than superfluous—unintelligible. Let those who would take away the present Subscription to our Prayer-book, restore to us, in a fair measure, the active Discipline of the Apostolic and post Apostolic times, and I for one will thankfully hail the change. But to ask to return to the “first three centuries,”—bristling as they do with canons, synodical and episcopal letters, and declarations,—because a volume was not then presented for the signature of every candidate for Orders,—is as reasonable as it would be to propose now to abolish printing, and go back to the simplicity and “freedom” of oral instruction and the scantiest of manuscript literature. There is no fallacy more glittering, but none more unworthy, illogical, and self-condemning than that of false historical parallel. And I again must ask your Lordship, whether Dr. Stanley’s appeal to the Primitive History has not wholly failed?—I have briefly shown that Constantine was not the originator of Subscriptions to creeds or canons, but that subscribing or professing dogmatic assent was a Christian custom of the earlier ages. It is plain to every one who knows the history, e.g., of a great bishop like St. Cyprian or St. IrenÆus, or of a great writer like Tertullian or Origen, that to guard dogmatically against heresy, by every means in their power, was the predominating idea of their whole course, however imperfectly attained; and they would have been utterly astounded if any one had foretold that in a future age of the Church, when all Discipline had been destroyed among Christ’s people, a Professor of History would appeal to their example as a justification of the proposal to excuse all ministers of Christ from signing any Articles of Faith!
Roman Catholic Subscription.
But when we are even told by Dr. Stanley (p. 36, n.) that, “from the clergy of the Roman Catholic Church no declaration of belief is required at their Ordination,” we almost cease to be surprised at his allegations respecting the ante-Nicene age. One would have thought it very little trouble to look into the present Roman Pontifical, and see the service for Ordination of Priests, before making any such statement. Unless Dr. Stanley’s copy is very different from mine—(AntverpiÆ Ex-officina Plantiniana Balthasaris Moreti, 1663)—he will read thus:—
“Pontifex, accepta mitra, vertit se ad presbyteros ordinatos qui ante altare coram ipso stantes profitentur Fidem quam prÆdicaturi sunt, dicentes Credo, &c., &c.”
Protestant Subscriptions.
I think that I need add no more on this head: but I will refer to the Subscriptions of Protestant Churches, before I pass on. It is very commonly said at present that “Subscription” does not secure the Uniformity of opinion which it aims at, and thus shows itself to be as useless as it is vexatious,—(as if, forsooth, any one supposed that absolute uniformity of thought could be attained by any means in the world). Dr. Stanley has not omitted this; but once more I must hold him to facts.
“It was one of the misfortunes,” (he says, p. 36) “incident to the Reformation, that every Protestant Church by way of defending itself against the enemies that hemmed it in, or that were supposed to hem it in on every side, was induced to compile each for itself a new Confession of Faith.”—This is scarcely doing justice to our Protestant friends, in limine. They had to do something more than defend themselves against enemies; they had to form some bond of union among themselves. If they were not to be merely scattered units, to be attracted in time to the largest bodies near them, they were obliged to find some principle of cohesion among themselves; and they who refuse to allow them to make “articles” or “confessions” ought in charity to suggest some other plan. To have separated from a compact body like the Roman Church and profess nothing positive, was surely an impossible course.—But Dr. Stanley further says, “The excess of Subscription on the continent over-leaped itself and has led to its gradual extinction, or modification.” (p. 37.)
It seems to me a very narrow philosophy which thus disposes of so great a fact as this, that “every Protestant Church” had this sort of instinct of life and self-preservation. Is it not as legitimate at least to infer that there may have been something in the very nature of things to prompt this unanimity of action? And is there no lesson to be learned from the undoubted fact that none of the Protestant communities have preserved their original standard, but have descended towards neology everywhere in proportion as “Subscription” has been set aside? and that the Church of England has for three hundred years exhibited a singular uniformity of belief, while maintaining her Subscriptions? Practically, I see nothing, then, in the example of Foreign Protestantism to encourage the proposed relaxation; but everything the reverse. Even the small and diminishing bodies of Nonconformists in England have failed, (notwithstanding their gaining in orthodoxy by their proximity to us), to keep up their reputation,—as their ablest men allow. But what would have been their condition, if, like ourselves, they had had no Discipline? [24] Surely in their efforts at holy Discipline they all bear a witness for Christ which puts us to shame.
Let Dr. Stanley, if he can, find any Christian body without Discipline—without Confessions, without Articles, without Subscriptions, which has been able to preserve itself at all; for until he does so, we must tell him that all the facts are against him.
Alleged practical evils of Subscription.
III. I now, my Lord, must pass to the third topic, in the consideration of which I thought to include all that remains in Dr. Stanley’s pamphlet which could be supposed by any to be of argumentative value—viz., the alleged practical evils of “Subscription” in the Church and the University. Here I feel that our English people will take a deeper interest in the matter, than in any antiquarian or historical disquisitions; and here Dr. Stanley and his friends speak with a confidence which with many will pass at once for demonstration. And if there were grounds to suppose that a method of Subscription, like ours, worked such mischief as they say who call for this change, no traditions of the Revolution, or of the Reformation, or of the Primitive Church, ought to tempt us to retain it. But let us not put the matter in an unreal light, while pretending to go back to former and better days. Freedom to think as you please in Religion, while retaining your place in the Church, was never conceded at any of the times to which Dr. Stanley has appealed; but was foreign to the principles of every class of Christians. Yet if the evils of Subscriptions are such as we are now assured, things cannot be suffered to remain as they are.
But broad assertions can frequently be only met by like broad assertions; and I hope that I shall not be thought disrespectful if I thus treat some now before me.
“Contradictoriness” of the Articles and Prayer-book.
(1.) It is said that the Subscriptions are made to documents “contradictory to each other in spirit;” (p. 22) and that this is felt by those who are called on to sign the Prayer-book, and the Articles;—the former being devotional and sublime, the latter scholastic, and less impressive;—the former emanating from ancient sources, the latter being the product “of the Calvinistic, and in some measure even the Scholastic period.” (pp. 16, 17.) This is popularly but scarcely correctly put; but I would ask, whether the difference between the “two documents” is greater than between Aquinas’ Summa, and his Pange Lingua?—or between any man’s didactic statements and his devotional offices? And if not, then how cannot the same man honestly sign both—each in its plain and obvious sense? Personally, I do not feel the least difficulty in the case; and I cannot recollect meeting with any clergyman who could sign the one, and yet had difficulty about the other, except as to a few phrases here and there. The general “contradictoriness,” which is affirmed by Dr. Stanley, I believe then is not commonly perceived by the Clergy, and I do not myself perceive any other difference than the nature of the case demands. The purely Theological language of the earlier Articles—then the mixed statements of the “anthropology,” as it is called—and the terms of the Sacramental Articles,—may almost in every instance be traced in Catholic fathers, from St. Augustine to St. Bernard. And yet they are not recondite, but so intelligible to educated English people, that some years ago as a matter of edification I went through them, with a class of fifty of the laity in my parish, and a few clergy, who for several weeks were glad to devote attention to the subject; and I venture to think that the idea never occurred to one of us, that there was the least want of harmony between the two documents. We really did not see the “calm image of Cranmer” reflected on the surface of the “Liturgy,” as Lord Macaulay fancied he did (p. 18); and as to the “foul weeds in which the roots were buried,” we did not discover them there;—(nor did Lord Macaulay, I suppose, as it was not his custom to go to these “roots.”) I think I am entitled, then, to meet the charge of the “contradictoriness” of the Articles and the Prayer-book, with an assertion that there is a thorough inward harmony, which not a few of us feel; and we cannot be talked out of this conviction by the contrary assertions of microscopic thinkers. I should grant, of course, that it would be a “practical evil” of no small kind, demanding immediate redress, if I could admit any real opposition between the Formularies which we have to sign. But I unreservedly deny it. I know indeed what objectors would mean when they say this: but I know also that the same objectors would find “contradictoriness” in different parts of Holy Scripture; and I am thankful that I do not find it, after many years’ steady work at both Old Testament and New.
The early age of those who “subscribe.”
(2.) Another alleged grievance, or “practical evil,” is said to be the age [28] at which young men are called on to make these important professions of their belief. I had, many years since, to encounter the same objection in another form. I met with some among the Baptists, who objected to teaching children to “say their prayers,” on the ground that they could not understand the mysterious subjects implied; and others who would not ask them to believe any thing in Religion, until they had proved it. The “practical evil” is—and I am sure that your Lordship will agree with me—altogether on the side of those who leave the young thus to make their own opinions, and find their faith how they can. The Bible is, in many respects, a more complex book than the Prayer-book; and yet I can ask my child to put entire faith in it, as God’s Word. Nor can the faithful Churchman, I believe, feel any difficulty in giving into the hands of young and old, the Formularies which have been his own comfort and help hitherto, and asking their “assent and consent” to all that which he knows to be true.
Men of ability will not take Holy Orders.
(3.) There is a “practical evil,” which has of late been greatly pressed on public notice, which Dr. Stanley thus refers to (p. 30)—“Intelligent, thoughtful, highly educated young men, who twenty or thirty years ago were to be found in every Ordination, are gradually withheld from the service of the Church, and from the profession to which their tastes, their characters, and their gifts, best fit them.”
This is an evil, the existence of which I shall not question—it is indeed too plain, and too alarming to admit of any doubt. But I deny that it has any foundation in the practice of Subscription; which has not been changed, or made more rigid, in our days. I have never known one conscientious, thoughtful young churchman kept from Holy Orders by a shrinking from Subscription. They who have shrunk have been persons who differ from the Church, and acknowledge the fact. They have been men, like my upright friend Mr. Fisher,—the author of “Liturgical Revision,”—who would not, for all the temptations that might be offered, use the entire Offices of our Church, even if ordained immediately without Subscription. Subscription keeps them out, of course. It is meant to do so, if it has any meaning at all. But if we look around us at the state of things in the Church, during the twenty or thirty years to which Dr. Stanley alludes, we shall not find it difficult to ascertain causes which have kept, and will keep, so many intelligent and conscientious minds of the higher order, from entering the ministry of the Church. Young men of ability in the last generation, if designed for Holy Orders, gave themselves to Theological study. But we all remember the panic which arose in consequence of the secessions to the Roman Church. Public patronage and popular feeling were then so successfully worked on, by the fanatical portion of the press, that the bare rumour of “Theological learning” was enough to mark any Churchman for suspicion. Parents who did not wish their more gifted sons to be victims, chose for them other callings, and found a thousand new and attractive openings in the Civil service. Youths of greatest promise saw encouragement in other professions, and rewards in the distance for successful merit; but if they began to read Theology, they soon found themselves obliged to pause. To read St. Augustine, till you began to believe the ancient doctrine of Baptism, was fatal: to study Church history, or the Liturgies, was still worse,—if men did it honestly. Hundreds, I believe, were thus beaten off. Parents and guardians and friends could not desire social and professional neglect—if not worse—for those in whom they were interested. They saw and said, that “there was but little chance for a clever man,” if he had the stigma of high ability or learning. If such a man as Dr. Mill—to whose writings men readily seek, now that the infidel is at our doors—if he died in comparative obscurity and neglect, what could others look for? The evil is done, and none now living will see it completely undone.—
To crush the principles of old Churchmanship was not, however, a task to which the rising intellect of Oxford would lend itself; it retired and left that work to others; or it strayed into German literature, whither the popular hatred had not yet learned to track it: and now the wail goes forth from “Charge” after “Charge,” that men of higher minds have fled, or turned “neologians!” Is there no Nemesis here?—A few years since, the Church’s rapid descent from her position of ancient learning was regarded with a quiet despair by some even of our most thoughtful men. A late dignitary even expressed “thankfulness” on one occasion at some moderate-looking promotion that had been made in high places, and he was remonstrated with by one who knew the entire ignorance of theology of the clergyman who had just been honoured. “Why, he is wholly ignorant of Christianity!” was, I believe, the exclamation. “Yes,” was the answer, “but he is not hostile to it.”
But will any relaxation of “Subscription”—will the destruction of the Articles, or the Revision of the Liturgy by “the Association” set up of late, bring back Theological learning, or tempt the “higher minds” into the Church’s ranks? No one can imagine it. A great misfortune has happened to us, and the way to repair it is not easily seen; but it is something to see the evil itself. The Romanizing movement was a great misfortune: we all deplore it, even those who know that it was provoked by the narrow-minded treatment which it received. But the loss of Theology and high intellect is a greater misfortune by far; and this will be yet found, when the dulness of a coming generation has to defend the Bible apart from the Church.
The Athanasian Creed.
(4.) In discussing the “practical evils” of Subscription, I observe that Dr. Stanley occasionally singles out parts of our “Formularies,” as involving special difficulty, and embarrassing “subscribers” in a more painful way than others. More than once he mentions the Creed of St. Athanasius as a peculiar hardship. In the first place, he somewhat roughly and unfairly charges falsehood on the Article for calling it St. Athanasius’s (p. 13); but surely he would not mean to charge falsehood on the Prayer-book, for speaking of the “Apostles Creed”—and yet the Apostles did not write it,—or of the “Nicene Creed,” although the latter part of it be not Nicene? The meaning is so plain and easy, that I own that I wonder at the tone of Dr. Stanley here. [32] The Creed “commonly called Athanasian” is surely a good description of a document which expresses well the truth which Athanasius defended, and the Church, by saying “commonly called,” expressly refrains from certifying his authorship. But the admission of the Creed itself is the evident grievance, and so there is anger at the very name. To this, then, I will address myself.
“As a doctrine most explicitly asserted by the Liturgy,” Dr. Stanley mentions “the condemnation of all members of the Eastern Church, as maintained by the clauses of the Athanasian Creed, which appear to declare that those who refuse to acknowledge the Holy Ghost to proceed from the Father and the Son, without doubt perish everlastingly.” An “eminent prelate” twenty years ago, we are told, expressed a devout hope that, “for the honour of human nature, no one now would deliberately aver” this! I hope I shall not seem to be harsh if I say I would here put in one word “for the honour” of common sense, which seems shocked by such treatment of such subjects. We might as fairly say, that the words, “Whosoever will be saved must thus think of the Trinity,” consign all infants, and persons of little understanding, to everlasting perdition, because they cannot “think” of it at all. It is trifling to confound the intellectual reception of a doctrine with its saving reception, and it is saying that none but very clever people will be saved. Such confusion is equivalent to a rejection of even the simplest form of Creed. Take for example the Ethiopian’s confession, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God,” on which he was baptized (Acts viii. 37). For the intellectual conception here demands explanation at once. In what sense is He the Son of God? Are we not all “His offspring?” Is Jesus the Son of God as man? or as God?—or both? If His Son, is He Eternal?—and soon. Such questions are inevitable, if we would really know our meaning in saying, “Jesus Christ is the Son of God.” But important as a right understanding of truth assuredly is, no Church ever thus taught that intellectual reception of truth could be attained by the multitude, for whose salvation we labour. If, indeed, we could look into the mind of the majority of good Christians, and see the shape which doctrines there take, we should often find the greatest amount of heresy of the intellect co-existing with orthodoxy of heart. A statement thus drawn out at length in a Creed is the Church’s intellectual exposition, as far as it goes, of the Doctrine professed. The million may not know this; but the Church tells them—“If you hold the true doctrine, this is what, consciously or not, you are holding.” The Athanasian Creed is a statement of that truth which dwells in every Christian heart. We know that God’s grace in the soul is always “orthodox;” but “with the heart man believeth unto righteousness;” but the Creed forbids the intellect to misinterpret what the heart has savingly known.—The agreement with the Eastern Church attempted at the Council of Florence illustrates this; for it was evidently on this basis. The Greeks were not told that their forefathers had all perished, but that their expression of the truth which they held was less perfect than the Latin.
It may be very easy to misrepresent what is thus said; but few, on reflection, will venture to say the opposite. Dr. Stanley would not say that no truth in Scripture is “necessary to salvation?” He would not say that no doctrine of any Creed is “necessary to salvation?” But yet he would not say that right intellectual conceptions of any truth, or of any doctrine, are “necessary to salvation?” And as he would own that some faith is necessary, or a “grace of faith” (the “Habitus Fidei” of the Schools), he must own, therefore, that saving faith, however unintellectual, is, as I said, orthodox. To “hold the Faith” is one thing; to apprehend its intellectual expression is another. And if all this be undeniable, what sad unreality it is, to write and speak, as so many do of the Athanasian Creed, as if it required a comprehension of all the terms which it uses!—instead of a pure “holding” of the Truth, which it would explain to all capable of the explanation.
I have dwelt at this length on a single point because, even in our journals and periodicals, so much obstinate nonsense—pardon me, my Lord, for such plainness—is frequently uttered against a Creed to which, under God, England now probably owes her undeniably deep faith in the Trinity.—To sign the Athanasian Creed being thus beyond dispute to sign the Doctrine, and not to say that each expression of it is infallible, or down to the level of all men, there can be no more objection to Subscription of that Creed, than of the Apostles’ or the Nicene.
Equivocal subscribing.
(5.) Yet one more “evil” alleged to flow from the present practice of “Subscription” must be noticed,—the necessity which it throws on all of us to sign in a qualified, and therefore not straightforward sense. “From the Archbishop in his palace at Lambeth to the humblest curate in the wilds of Cumberland,” says Dr. Stanley, “all must go out,” if only the “obvious” and “natural” meaning of the whole Prayer-book be insisted on.—I really feel, my Lord, on reading these words, very much as I should on hearing from a foreigner anything very ultra and impossible about England—e.g., that “we have no religion at all in England;” (we are told, indeed, that in Spain we are thought to be an infidel people). The only answer, in such case, is to inform the foreigner as to the facts; point to our churches, our schools, our parishes, our homes. In truth, Dr. Stanley here seems to me to write like one who does not know us at all. I say for myself (and I believe that thousands would do the same), that I subscribe both Articles and Prayer-book in their obvious, easy, and most congruous sense, and believe them to express, if not always in the words which I should have chosen, yet always in suitable words, my inward convictions of Christian truth. Indeed, my Lord, I can understand nothing else. I have moved very freely for many years among my brethren, and I can but say that my experience of them as a body does not in any degree correspond with the representation which Dr. Stanley makes, which I think will surprise both our friends and our enemies. I can do no more, of course, than simply protest [36] against it with all my heart; believing fully that when the Articles and the Prayer-book are interpreted, not with “Chinese” perverseness, but honestly and humanly, they are ordinarily found accordant with reason, with Scripture, and with themselves.
The possible haste with which Dr. Stanley seems to have written, may account, perhaps, for statements so unqualified as these, and some others that he has made. Indeed, there are things put out in the Letter which can only be thus explained. I refer, for instance, to such assertions as that, (p. 4) which,—forgetting the whole calendar of Lessons, (and also the Article vi.), says,—“The Articles and Liturgy express no opinion as to the authorship of the disputed [37] or anonymous books of Scripture,”—and then in a note mentions the “Visitation of the Sick” as the only portion of the “Liturgy” (sic)—which refers a disputed book (the “Hebrews”) to its author; though the service for Holy Matrimony equally refers that Epistle to St. Paul. Or, as another instance, I may name Dr. Stanley’s conceiving the indiscriminate use of our Burial Service to imply some theory about the happiness of all hereafter. (So I understand him, at least, p. 19.)—Or, yet another; his supposing (p. 45) that the description of our “Canonical Books” as those of whose authority there was no doubt “in the Church,” could possibly mean “no doubt in the minds of any individuals!” But, my Lord, my object is not to find fault with any one; I had to show, as I hope I have shown, the fallacy of the grounds on which the surrender of Subscription to the Prayer-book has been urged.
Summary.
It has been seen that the “Comprehension” scheme of the Revolution,—the design of the English Reformation,—and the custom of the Early Church, which had all been appealed to, all fail to give the least support to the theory of license now put forward. It has been seen, that no real argument against Subscription has been deduced from the practice of it among ourselves, or from the character of our Formularies. I might have gone farther. I might have marked the Providential nature of the events which held our vessel by the anchor of Subscription, at a time when it must have otherwise drifted on rocks. I might have pointed to the unhappy results which thus far have attended relaxations of Subscription, in a change of tone among a large number of the younger members of the Church and the University, and an acknowledged failure at length of the supply of candidates for Holy Orders. But there is no need that I should enlarge on details which are patent to all observation. It is becoming that I should bring these remarks to a conclusion.
I should be sorry, indeed, my Lord, if it could be thought from my deprecating the proposed abolition of Subscription, that I regard the condition of the Church among us as a normal or satisfactory one. But I feel, as thousands do, that whatever changes may lie before us, they should be towards increased organization of our Body; while the present proposal would disorganize us at once, and break away the traditions by which, in an undisciplined age, Providence protected us. This proposal, I am aware, unhappily falls in with the spirit of our times—a spirit of independence and freedom, rather than of holiness and faith, and therefore I fear that it will find a wide advocacy among those who desire not the maintenance of our Church’s distinctive position among the Churches of Europe. Your Lordship’s eloquent hope—admirable and strong—that we may yet “maintain that Eternal Truth of which the Church is the depository, and that Form of sound words in which that Eternal Truth has been handed down,” I fain would share. But I stand in doubt. I feel very much like one who is asked to take leave of a peaceful abode—a haven of long Providential refuge; and I take, perhaps, a partial, because parting look at the solid advantages hitherto secured—the homely, perhaps, but very real blessings of a Fixed Faith for our people in general, with Means of Grace, capable of enlargement everywhere according to our need, venerable Traditions protecting our noble English Bibles, our glorious English Offices, our restored English Churches. The thought of turning one’s back on all, and pushing out on the boundless ocean of opinion, may well fill the heart with foreboding—if not for oneself, yet for others!
Prospects.
A solemn future, it may be, is before us as a Church. You have come, my Lord, to the government of this great central Diocese at a crisis unparalleled in our history. The eighteenth century was a great truce of principles. The truce was probably broken in 1829; efforts were made to re-establish the truce once more, but not with much success. The Established Church, seemed hastening to become an established theory only. But new life from God entered into her. She again delivered her message to the growing masses of the people,—and with an energy before but rarely known. True, our “Discipline” is not restored; but the voice of Worship is heard rising anew on every hand.—True, there is no startling growth of Sanctity—(the special token of a Church’s life!); but there is a very real zeal to do a work for Christ on earth. With all the experience of an eventful Past to warn us, and the vast range of Sacred Ministrations still remaining, might it not be the glorious distinction of your Lordship’s Episcopate, that it gathered together all the remaining elements of our Spiritual System, so that “nothing was lost,”—and saved for posterity the grandest fabric of Faith and Truth among the nations of Christendom?—
But a darker alternative is possible—may Providence guide and protect your Lordship, that so it may be averted!—A nation finally unchurched;—a Bible keenly “criticised,” and unauthorized;—a Clergy descending to “use” a Prayer-book which they will not affirm that they BELIEVE; a People mainly divided between illiterate fanaticism and cold infidelity.
I am, my Lord,
Your Lordship’s faithful servant,
William J. Irons.
