"He began to be uneasy that he had not the liberty of thinking,
without incurring the scandal of heterodoxy; he was impatient that
systems of all sorts were put into his hands ready carved out for him;
it shocked him to find that he was commanded to believe against his
judgment, and resolved some time or other to enter his protest against
any person being bred like a slave, who is born an Englishman."
This is all very decorous, and nothing can be objected to the first
cry of this reforming patriot but a reasonable suspicion of its truth.
If these sentiments were really in his mind at college, he deserves at
least the praise of retention: for fifteen years were suffered to pass
quietly without the patriotic volcano giving even a distant rumbling
of the sulphurous matter concealed beneath. All that time had passed
in the contemplation of church preferment, with the aerial perspective
lighted by a visionary mitre. But Henley grew indignant at his
disappointments, and suddenly resolved to reform "the gross impostures
and faults that have long prevailed in the received _institutions_ and
_establishments_ of _knowledge_ and _religion_"--simply meaning that
he wished to pull down the _Church_ and the _University_!
But he was prudent before he was patriotic; he at first grafted
himself on Whiston, adopting his opinions, and sent some queries by
which it appears that Henley, previous to breaking with the church,
was anxious to learn the power it had to punish him. The Arian Whiston
was himself, from pure motives, suffering expulsion from Cambridge,
for refusing his subscription to the Athanasian Creed; he was a pious
man, and no buffoon, but a little crazed. Whiston afterwards
discovered the character of his correspondent, he then requested the
Bishop of London.
"To summon Mr. Henley, the orator, whose vile history I knew so well,
to come and tell it to the church. But the bishop said he could do
nothing; since which time Mr. Henley has gone on for about twenty
years without control every week, as an ecclesiastical mountebank, to
abuse religion."
The most extraordinary project was now formed by Henley; he was to
teach mankind universal knowledge from his lectures, and primitive
Christianity from his sermons. He took apartments in Newport market,
and opened his "Oratory." He declared,
"He would teach more in one year than schools and universities did in
five, and write and study twelve hours a-day, and yet appear as
untouched by the yoke, as if he never bore it."
In his "Idea of what is intended to be taught in the _Week-days'
Universal Academy_," we may admire the fertility, and sometimes the
grandeur of his views. His lectures and orations[49] are of a very
different nature from what they are imagined to be; literary topics
are treated with perspicuity and with erudition, and there is
something original in the manner. They were, no doubt, larded and
stuffed with many high-seasoned jokes, which Henley did not send to
the printer.
Henley was a charlatan and a knave; but in all his charlatanerie and
his knavery he indulged the reveries of genius; many of which have
been realised since; and, if we continue to laugh at Henley, it will
indeed be cruel, for we shall be laughing at ourselves! Among the
objects which Henley discriminates in his general design, were, to
supply the want of a university, or universal school, in this capital,
for persons of all ranks, professions, and capacities;--to encourage a
literary correspondence with great men and learned bodies; the
communication of all discoveries and experiments in science and the
arts; to form an amicable society for the encouragement of learning,
"in order to cultivate, adorn, and exalt the genius of Britain;" to
lay a foundation for an English Academy; to give a standard to our
language, and a digest to our history; to revise the ancient schools
of philosophy and elocution, which last has been reckoned by
Pancirollus among the _artes perditae_. All these were "to bring all
the parts of knowledge into the narrowest compass, placing them in the
clearest light, and fixing them to the utmost certainty." The religion
of the Oratory was to be that of the primitive church in the first
ages of the four first general councils, approved by parliament in the
first year of the reign of Elizabeth. "The Church of England is really
with us; we appeal to her own principles, and we shall not deviate
from her, unless she deviates from herself." Yet his "Primitive
Christianity" had all the sumptuous pomp of popery; his creeds and
doxologies are printed in the red letter, and his liturgies in the
black; his pulpit blazed in gold and velvet (Pope's "gilt tub"); while
his "Primitive Eucharist" was to be distributed with all the ancient
forms of celebrating the sacrifice of the altar, which he says, "are
so noble, so just, sublime, and perfectly harmonious, that the change
has been made to an unspeakable disadvantage." It was restoring the
decorations and the mummery of the mass! He assumed even a higher
tone, and dispersed medals, like those of Louis XIV., with the device
of a sun near the meridian, and a motto, _Ad summa_, with an
inscription expressive of the genius of this new adventurer, _Inveniam
viam aut faciam_! There was a snake in the grass; it is obvious that
Henley, in improving literature and philosophy, had a deeper
design--to set up a new sect! He called himself "a Rationalist," and
on his death-bed repeatedly cried out, "Let my notorious enemies know
I die a Rational."[50]
His address to the town[51] excited public curiosity to the utmost;
and the floating crowds were repulsed by their own violence from
this new paradise, where "The Tree of Knowledge" was said to be
planted. At the succeeding meeting "the Restorer of Ancient
Eloquence" informed "persons in chairs that they must come sooner."
He first commenced by subscriptions to be raised from "persons
eminent in Arts and Literature," who, it seems, were lured by the
seductive promise, that, "if they had been virtuous or penitents, they
should be commemorated;" an oblique hint at a panegyrical puff. In the
decline of his popularity he permitted his door-keeper, whom he
dignifies with the title of _Ostiary_, to take a shilling! But he
seems to have been popular for many years; even when his auditors
were but few, they were of the better order;[52] and in notes
respecting him which I have seen, by a contemporary, he is called
"the reverend and learned." His favourite character was that of a
Restorer of Eloquence; and he was not destitute of the qualifications
of a fine orator, a good voice, graceful gesture, and forcible
elocution. Warburton justly remarked, "Sometimes he broke jests,
and sometimes that bread which he called the Primitive Eucharist." He
would degenerate into buffoonery on solemn occasions. His address to
the Deity was at first awful, and seemingly devout; but, once
expatiating on the several sects who would certainly be damned, he
prayed that the Dutch might be _undamm'd_! He undertook to show the
ancient use of the petticoat, by quoting the Scriptures where the
mother of Samuel is said to have made him "_a little coat_," ergo, a
PETTI-_coat_![53] His advertisements were mysterious ribaldry to
attract curiosity, while his own good sense would frequently
chastise those who could not resist it; his auditors came in
folly, but they departed in good-humour.[54] These advertisements
were usually preceded by a sort of motto, generally a sarcastic
allusion to some public transaction of the preceding week.[55]
Henley pretended to great impartiality; and when two preachers had
animadverted on him, he issued an advertisement, announcing "A
Lecture that will be a challenge to the Rev. Mr. Batty and the Rev.
Mr. Albert. Letters are sent to them on this head, and _a free
standing-place_ is there to be had _gratis_." Once Henley offered
to admit of a disputation, and that he would impartially determine
the merits of the contest. It happened that Henley this time was
overmatched; for two Oxonians, supported by a strong party to awe his
"marrow-boners," as the butchers were called, said to be in the
Orator's pay, entered the list; the one to defend the _ignorance_,
the other the _impudence_, of the Restorer of Eloquence himself. As
there was a door behind the rostrum, which led to his house, the
Orator silently dropped out, postponing the award to some happier
day.[56]
This age of lecturers may find their model in Henley's "Universal
Academy," and if any should aspire to bring themselves down to his
genius, I furnish them with hints of anomalous topics. In the second
number of "The Oratory Transactions," is a diary from July 1726, to
August 1728. It forms, perhaps, an unparalleled chronicle of the
vagaries of the human mind. These archives of cunning, of folly, and
of literature, are divided into two diaries; the one "The Theological
or Lord's days' subjects of the Oratory;" the other, "The Academical
or Week-days' subjects." I can only note a few. It is easy to pick out
ludicrous specimens; for he had a quaint humour peculiar to himself;
but among these numerous topics are many curious for their knowledge
and ingenuity.
"The last Wills and Testaments of the Patriarchs."
"An Argument to the Jews, with a proof that they ought to be
Christians, for the same reason which they ought to be Jews."
"St. Paul's Cloak, Books, and Parchments, left at Troas."
"The tears of Magdalen, and the joy of angels."
"New Converts in Religion." After pointing out the names of "Courayer
and others, the D---- of W----n, the Protestantism of the P----, the
conversion of the Rev. Mr. B----e, and Mr. Har----y," he closes with
"Origen's opinion of Satan's conversion; with the choice and balance
of Religion in all countries."