Convocational history in the reign of William III., from the year
1689 to the year 1700, is simply a history of writs and prorogations.
During that period no business was ever transacted, the Lower House
never met. Tillotson and Tenison, knowing the temper prevalent in
the Church, aware of the influence of the nonjuring Clergy, sensible
of the wide diffusion of sympathy with them, and alive to the fact
of an extensive revival of High-Church principles, were apprehensive
of a collision between the two Houses in case they proceeded to
business. They therefore thought it prudent to hold in abeyance the
right of meeting, until some exigency rendered their coming together
indispensable. Indignant murmurs at this state of things freely escaped
the lips of many a Dean, Prebendary, Archdeacon, and Rector; and at
length found utterance in a publication, which produced a wonderful
impression, and led to important results. Few pamphlets have been
more famous in their day than the _Letter to a Convocation Man_,
published in the year 1697. It was widely circulated, read by all
sorts of people, canvassed in City coffee-houses, discussed in country
inns, talked of by parishioners under church porches, and pondered in
rectories, vicarages, and quiet homes all over England. It made, says
Nicholson, “a considerable noise and pother in the kingdom.”[326]
The _Letter_ insisted upon the state of the country--so marked
by false and pernicious principles, by irreligious indifference,
and by immoral conduct--as a reason why the representatives of the
Church should assemble in their legal capacity. The constitutional
right of Convocation was strongly urged, the Royal writ needful for
it being, as the writer alleged, no more a sign of precariousness in
this case, than is a Royal writ in any other. A resemblance was traced
between Convocation and Parliament, and curious antiquarian and legal
questions were reviewed. The author touched on the mode of summoning
Convocation--a subject which requires to be explained, not only on
account of the use which he made of it, but on account of a use to
which it was put by another advocate on the same side.
[Sidenote: 1697.]
English Convocations, since the 25th of Henry VIII.--when an Act was
passed depriving Archbishops of the right to call those assemblies at
pleasure--came to be convoked exclusively by writs addressed to the
Archbishops, who were authorized, under their seals, to summon for
business the Clergy of their province. The Archbishop of Canterbury
addressed his mandate to the Bishop of London, to be executed by him
as his provincial Dean, and the Bishop of each diocese to whom the
immediate execution of such a mandate belongs, received directions
to make a proper return to his Grace or his Commissary--such return,
when made, being entered in the Register of the Archiepiscopal See.
But, as early as the reign of Edward I., there was introduced into
the writ summoning a Bishop to Parliament a clause--called the
_præmonentes_ or _præmunientes_ clause, from its beginning
with that word--requiring him to give notice of such writ to the
Prior and Chapter, and to the Archdeacon and Clergy, so as to cause
the Prior and the Archdeacon, in their own persons, and the Chapter
and Clergy by their Procurators, or proxies--one for the Chapter, and
two for the Clergy--to be present with him at Westminster, there to
attend to public affairs. After the Reformation, Deans were substituted
for Priors; and, with that alteration, the writ continued to run in
its ancient form.[327] The writ indicated exactly the same kind of
representatives to be summoned as did the Archbishop’s mandate; and,
upon this ground, the author of the _Letter_ insisted upon the
right of the Lower Clergy to assemble for deliberation as being no less
inalienable than the right of the House of Commons--the premonition, or
warning, to be delivered to the Clergy being, as he says, “an argument
of invincible strength to establish the necessity of Convocations
meeting as often as Parliaments.”
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
The author of this famous pamphlet maintained that Convocation had the
power of determining its own matters of debate; but in the maintenance
of this position, he had to explain away the sense of the words
employed in the writ of summons, _super præmissis, et aliis quæ
sibi clarius exponentur ex parte Domini Regis_--words which limit
Convocational discussions to topics proposed by Royal authority.[328]
[Sidenote: 1697.]
To this anonymous publication, which roused High Churchmen to activity
and filled Low Churchmen with alarm, an answer appeared from the pen
of Dr. William Wake, already well and favourably known in the world
of letters, through his answers to Bossuet, and other writings on the
Roman Catholic controversy, as well as his version of the Epistles of
the Apostolical Fathers. He contended that ancient Synods were convened
by Royal authority, that when they assembled, the Civil Magistrate had
a right to prescribe questions for debate, and that they could not
dissolve without his license. The King of England, he said, had supreme
power over English Convocations, and the Clergy could confer on no
subject without his permission. After certain historical deductions,
he denied that sitting in Convocation is an original Church right, or
that it is the same thing as the Parliamentary privilege, vouchsafed
by the _præmonentes_ clause in writs sent to Bishops. According
to Wake’s argument, the 25th of Henry VIII. has restored to the Crown
its full authority, and placed the control of Convocation entirely
in Royal hands; and he ventures to declare the possibility of Church
Synods becoming useless and even hurtful; asking, with reference to
opinions then violently expressed, “What good can the Prince propose
to himself, or any wise man hope for, from any assembly that can be
brought together, under the unhappy influence of these and the like
prepossessions?”[329]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Passing over other combatants, we must particularly notice one who
entered the field on the other side, and was destined to play a
distinguished part in the political as well as the ecclesiastical
affairs of his country. Francis Atterbury, born just before the Act of
Uniformity was passed in 1662, and educated first at Westminster and
then at Oxford, distinguished himself at the early age of twenty-five,
by the extraordinary ability which he exhibited as a controversialist.
He then won literary laurels by answering an attack upon the spirit of
Martin Luther and the origin of the Reformation; and soon afterwards,
when minister of Bridewell, where his eloquence attracted popular
attention, some of his sermons involved him in discussions upon points
of moral and practical divinity. Scarcely had he been made Preacher
of the Rolls, when he plunged into a conflict purely classical.
Charles Boyle, afterwards Earl of Orrery, who had been Atterbury’s
pupil at Oxford, published an edition of the Epistles of Phalaris and
the Fables of Æsop, then recently eulogized by Sir William Temple--a
publication which led to a controversy singularly renowned in the
history of criticism. Richard Bentley exposed the spurious character
of these Epistles by an appeal to external evidence, and thereby
paved the way for an application of similar criticism to productions
of a far different character.[330] In defiance of the exposure which
reflected upon the literary reputation of both Temple and Boyle, some
of their friends, with chivalrous devotion, came forward on their
behalf; Swift, in his _Tale of the Tub_, and his _Battle of the
Books_, tilting his lance on the side of his patron Temple; and
Atterbury--associated with others under Boyle’s name, in an examination
of Bentley’s Dissertations--appearing as the champion of his late
pupil. Though no match for Bentley in scholarship, Atterbury possessed
immense power in respect of rhetorical style, clever sophistry, cutting
sarcasm, and personal invective; and these were employed with such
effect as for awhile to overwhelm the illustrious scholar, and to
silence his charges against the defenders of Phalaris. However, the
triumph was short; Bentley resumed his attacks, and demolished the work
of his critics, in a book which, for learning, logic, and humour, is
perhaps unrivalled in that class of productions. Atterbury must have
been sorely vexed by his discomfiture when in 1700 he threw himself
into the great ecclesiastical contest of the period, and published his
_Rights, Powers, and Privileges of an English Convocation_.
[Sidenote: 1700.]
Indulging in his fondness for personal attack, he abused the recent
volume by Dr. Wake as a shallow and empty performance, deficient in
historical learning and destructive of Church liberty. After referring
to the ancient practice of holding provincial Synods, he treated
Convocations as coming in their room, and as constituting necessary
appendages to English Parliaments. He insisted much upon the fact of
the Clergy having been summoned by the _præmonentes_ clause in the
writs addressed to spiritual Peers, and regretted that by a political
blunder the legislative representation of the Church had become
separated from the legislative representation of the State. Without,
however, attempting to revive obsolete proceedings, he asserted most
pertinaciously the indefeasible right of the clerical order to sit in
Convocation, and to petition, advise, address, represent, and declare
their judgment upon their own affairs, notwithstanding their inability
to make, or attempt, any new canons without express Royal authority.
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
The question of assembling Convocation started from an historical point
of view, but it came before the public mind in its constitutional and
practical bearings; yet, amidst the multitude of publications on the
subject, one seeks in vain for a consistent and satisfying treatment of
the subject on either side. Those who believed in Convocation, and who
wished to see it vigorously revived, did not dare to express all that
they believed, or all that they wished; they were checked by the spirit
of the age, and hampered by the circumstances of the Church. At the
same time they ignored the great change which had come over political
and ecclesiastical affairs through the Revolution, and they also shut
their eyes to the fact, that it is impossible to enjoy State patronage
and emoluments without some abridgment of ecclesiastical action. Those
who wished Convocation should not assemble feared to deny its rights,
and shrunk from either proposing its extinction or advocating its
reform. They only desired to mesmerize it, till clerical animosities
should expire, and the Church should be of one mind--a consummation no
nearer now than it was then. The prudence forced upon this class of
persons by their political position, asserted itself at the expense of
logical consistency; and, as is often the case, practical sagacity made
men awkward reasoners.
There might be arguments for abolishing Convocation, or modifying its
powers--at any rate for defining them; but, whilst no such arguments
were urged, it was impossible to silence gainsayers, who contended that
practice ought to be accordant with theory. If Convocations be like
Parliaments, things in themselves good and wise, differences of opinion
no more furnish reasons against Convocations than against Parliaments.
If what Clarendon says be true, “that of all mankind, none form so
bad an estimate of human affairs as Churchmen,”[331] that may be an
argument for extinguishing Convocational rights, not for continuing to
them a nominal instead of a real existence.
[Sidenote: 1700.]
Nor was there conclusiveness of historical argument, or any
consistency of demand, on the other side. High-Church advocates were
then, as always, puzzled how to forge links of union between English
Convocations and the early Synods of the Church, especially the
assembly at Jerusalem. What resemblance exists between them, except
of the most general description?--a resemblance such as pertains to
all ecclesiastical meetings whatsoever. The essential conditions of a
Convocation of Canterbury are that it must meet by authority from the
Crown; that it consist of two Houses, one composed of Bishops, and the
other of Presbyters, both purely clerical; that the members of the
Lower House must be dignitaries, together with Proctors, elected by
the Clergy, and that nothing which they do has binding force without
the consent of the Sovereign. What is there in these distinctive
features of an English Convocation to connect it with Synods before the
era of State Establishments? What precedent for any of the essential
parts of the structure can be found in the history of the meeting at
Jerusalem? The Apostles and Elders met altogether, and joined in a
deliverance upon the question at issue. No other representatives or
delegates appeared except those who came from Antioch. The resemblance
between the meeting at Jerusalem and meetings in Saxon and Norman
times is a pure imagination, beyond such resemblance as belongs to
religious conferences in general. Nor can any specific likeness
be traced between mixed Anglo-Saxon Councils and purely clerical
Convocations. An Anglo-Saxon provincial Synod was in many points very
unlike Convocation;[332] and between A.D. 816, when the Synod
of Challok occurred, in which Abbots, Presbyters, and Deacons met,
and A.D. 1065, I do not find that more than one provincial
Synod was held; a national Synod met under Dunstan, A.D. 969.
Provincial Synods, previously occasional and rare, did not become
regular and frequent until the reign of Edward I.
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Convocation, with full power to deliberate, to propose and enact
canons, to alter existing formularies, to pronounce authoritatively
upon points of doctrine, and to originate schemes of ecclesiastical
action, co-ordinate with the functions of Parliament, would have been
a reality; but, in the view of many, such power would be inconsistent
with the secular relations of the Church, as dependent on the State
for much of its pecuniary support, for more of its social prestige,
and for all of its political pre-eminence. Convocation, as it was
permitted to exist under William III., was really a mere form, and
that a very troublesome one. Nor did Atterbury, or any who sided
with him, endeavour to bring it into accordance with their theory.
The theory was one of ecclesiastical independence; but when they saw
some of the difficulties of their position, they only endeavoured to
loosen a little the chain which bound up the liberty of Convocational
action.[333]
[Sidenote: 1701.]
The new Ministry, formed in 1700, stipulated that Convocation should be
restored to its sessional rights and privileges.[334] This point being
conceded, those of the Clergy whom it particularly gratified, burst
into a state of clamorous excitement, broaching new or reviving old
theories. Atterbury, as earnest in action as he was eloquent in speech,
regarded it as eminently a critical juncture, and felt a strong desire
that those members who thought with him should come to town a fortnight
beforehand for consultation. He wished them, he said, to take proper
methods for preventing or breaking through the snares of enemies.[335]
He urged upon his friends, Trelawny, Sprat, and Compton, the execution
of the _præmunientes_ clause in the Parliamentary writ, as well
as the execution of the Archbishop’s provincial mandate.[336] In
this measure the Bishops just named concurred, and used their writs
accordingly; so did Hough, Bishop of Lichfield, and Mew, Bishop of
Winchester.[337]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Tenison, in his archiepiscopal barge, started from Lambeth Palace on
Monday morning. February the 10th, and landed at St. Paul’s Wharf,
whence he was escorted by a number of Advocates and Proctors to
the west end of the new Cathedral; the Portland stone being then
unblackened by London smoke, and the structure, as well as its
ornaments, being still in a state of incompleteness. Received by the
Dean and Canons, his Grace was conducted to the choir, and placed in
the Dean’s Stall, fresh from the touch of the carver’s chisel,--the
Suffragan Bishops occupying the other stalls on either side. After the
Litany had been chanted in Latin, the Bishop of Chichester preached,
and at the close of the sermon the choir sung an anthem. The assembly
proceeded to the new Chapter-House, where the Archbishop, being seated
on his throne, addressed his brethren, after the writ of summons
had been read by the Bishop of London. The election of a Prolocutor
for the Lower House followed in order; the Dean of Canterbury, Dr.
George Hooper, being preferred to the Dean of Gloucester, Dr. William
Jane. High Churchmen, with dismal forebodings of opposition from Low
Churchmen, whispered amongst themselves as soon as they had presented
their Prolocutor, that perhaps they would be adjourned, without
permission to enter on business. This policy Atterbury determined
to obstruct; for, said he, if we come to any resolutions, they will
certainly be for the honour and interest of the Church, since we have a
majority in the Lower House, as remarkable as that of our opponents in
the Upper.[338]
[Sidenote: 1701.]
Convocation having solemnly assembled, and the usual preliminaries
being accomplished, Atterbury was intent on going to work; but his
correspondence indicates that he moved too fast to please some of his
brethren, and that he had reason to apprehend they meant to reject his
leadership. They had not proceeded many steps, when Dr. Ashurst and Dr.
Freeman incurred Atterbury’s censure, because after the Archbishop’s
form of prorogation had come down, and the Prolocutor had informed the
House they were not to regard themselves as being prorogued until he
told them they were, these two gentlemen, as the Archdeacon states,
were very noisy, insisting upon it that they were actually prorogued,
and that it was a dangerous thing for them, under such circumstances,
to sit any longer. The Prolocutor immediately arose, and said, as these
gentlemen were fidgeting about in their scarlet robes, that if they
thought they were incurring any risk, they were at liberty to depart.
They immediately rose, with the hope of a respectable following, but
as they vanished, they were, if we may depend on an opponent’s report,
followed only by a general smile, and the condemnation of their own
party.[339]
Another question agitated the House the same day. Complaints were
made of episcopal interference with the election of clergymen, and
accordingly a resolution to that effect passed the House, supported
by a large number, says one authority--by a small number, says
another.[340] The same day a committee was appointed to investigate
disputed elections--a step which, in the estimation of Low Churchmen
encroached upon the episcopal prerogative, for they maintained that
the Bishop with his suffragans must be the final judge of all such
matters.[341]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
[Sidenote: 1701.]
Robing themselves on the 28th of February, the members glided along
the aisles of the Abbey up the steps of Henry the VII.’s Chapel, when
they proceeded to business, without taking any notice of their right
reverend superiors, who had also robed themselves that same morning,
and sat down within the Jerusalem Chamber. It plainly appeared that
the two ecclesiastical conclaves were becoming hostile camps. A
message from the Archbishop soon reached the Lower House, asking for
an explanation, why they went to prayers before the Bishops came. The
question at issue now formally arose, and then began a lengthened
contest, as to whether the Lower House had self-contained rights, like
those of the Commons--a right of self-adjournment and prorogation,
and a right to meet, consult, and resolve, without being dependent
from step to step upon the will of Prelates. The High-Church party,
so zealous in theory for episcopal order, thus in practice broke with
their right reverend fathers. In the controversy was mixed up also
an obstinate contention on the part of the Prolocutor about what was
meant by the words, _in hunc locum_ in the Archbishop’s schedule;
to settle this point were added the words, _vulgo vocatum Jerusalem
Chamber_. For a little while, some semblance of union continued.
Each party treated the other with punctilious respect. Atterbury,
indeed, at the commencement anticipated, in the matter of the address,
a “tough dispute,” and, as he said this, resembled a war-horse snorting
on the edge of a battle-field. He pressed the Lower House not to wait
for the Lords, but to prepare an address of its own; yet, when an
address came down to them, the Lower House heartily joined in it, only
proposing a slight alteration, which the Prelates approved. Ripples
quickly rose on the surface of debate. According to Atterbury, upon
the 8th of March, the Dean of Peterborough, Dr. Freeman, already
mentioned, behaved amiss, and threw out words reflecting on the
Prolocutor, for which a censure was demanded, and would have followed,
had the offender not begged pardon. The confused statement made to
this effect, indicates that some of the Clergy resisted the highflown
policy of their brethren; two days afterwards, however, we find both
Houses amicably taking a journey to the pleasant village of Kensington,
where stood His Majesty’s favourite palace. At half-past two on Monday
afternoon, March the 10th, the Archbishop and Bishops, in their
distinctive attire, and the Prolocutor in his cap and hood, and the
rest of the Clergy following, took coach at the west end of the Abbey.
They proceeded by Knightsbridge and the side of the Park--the trees
beginning to bud with early spring, the people by the way watching the
dignitaries as their faces peered through the windows of the lumbering
vehicles--until, arriving at the Dutch-looking palace, with its prim
gardens, the procession of the Clergy reached the Royal presence--the
Bishops going to the right hand of the throne, the Prolocutor and the
rest to the left. A loyal address was presented, and a gracious reply
returned.
The tug of war, of which there had been omens before that pleasant
excursion, began in earnest soon afterwards.
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
The Lower House asserted its claim to independent action, to adjourn
itself when and where it pleased, to originate and transact any
business whatsoever and howsoever it pleased; always, it should be
distinctly stated, choosing its time of sitting according to the time
fixed by his Grace of Canterbury’s schedule. To accomplish what was
designed, committees of the whole House were appointed, who claimed a
right to sit, in this form at least, upon intermediate days, when many
did so assemble under cover of a strict adherence to admitted rules;
but others would not, counting it a breach of law in substance, if not
in form. A matter of business, originating in the Lower House, without
consultation with the Upper, and in known opposition to its wishes,
was the examination of a certain heretical book--namely, Toland’s
_Christianity not Mysterious_--the object of which is explained on
the title page, “A Treatise showing that there is nothing in the Gospel
contrary to Reason, nor above it, and that no Christian Doctrine can be
called a Mystery.”
It should be stated, that at the same time another book, entitled,
_Essays on the Balance of Power_, in which the author asserted,
that men had been promoted in the Church who were remarkable for
nothing but their disbelief in the Divinity of Christ--a statement
intended to bring certain Bishops into disrepute--attracted the
attention of the Upper House; upon which their Lordships caused to be
affixed to the Abbey doors a paper calling upon the author, whoever he
might be, to make good his assertions or to submit to punishment for so
base and public a scandal. This was an extraordinary plan, reminding
one--chiefly, however, by contrast as to importance--of Luther’s
doctrinal theses affixed to the church gates at Wittenberg; and also
recalling--more in the way of resemblance--how Archbishop Arundel’s
citation of Lord Cobham was stuck on the entrance to Rochester
Cathedral, to be defied by him to whom it was addressed.
[Sidenote: 1701.]
When Toland’s book was sent up from the Lower House to the Bishops for
judgment, they felt that it was a serious matter to enter upon the
business, as by condemning certain published opinions, and approving
others, they might be altering the recognized doctrines of the Church.
Legal objections had on a similar occasion been alleged against such
proceedings, because of the consequences they might involve; now they
were urged afresh. The Bishops, therefore, came to the conclusion, in
accordance with the advice of eminent lawyers, that they could not
censure the books without license from the King, lest they should incur
certain penalties.
Upon the eve of a prorogation for Easter, after the dispute about the
rights of sitting and adjournment had been carried on with an obstinacy
which it would be tiresome to describe, the Archbishop delivered to the
members of Convocation a speech, in which he alluded to the existing
dispute: “We have many enemies, and they wait for nothing more than
to see the union and order of this Church, which is both its beauty
and its strength, broken by those who ought to preserve it.” “For the
maintaining the episcopal authority is so necessary to the preservation
of the Church, that the rest of the Clergy are no less concerned in it
than the Bishops themselves.” “I have thought fit, with the rest of my
brethren, to prorogue the Convocation for some time. It is a season of
devotion, and I pray God it may have a good effect on all our minds.”
“We, on our part, are willing to forget all that is past, and to go
on with you at our next meeting, as well as at all times, with all
tenderness and parental affection, in all such things as shall conduce
to the good of this Church.”[342]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
In spite of the prorogation until the 8th of May, the Prolocutor and
some of the Clergy persevered in their assertion of independence, and
sat for some hours the same day on which his Grace prorogued both
Houses; then they adjourned to meet the next day. But this policy,
being esteemed by some High Churchmen as a stretch of power quite
unconstitutional, led to a secession, which considerably weakened the
influence of the party.
When all had come back from celebrating the Easter festival, and the
Prolocutor appeared before the Upper House with a paper in his hand,
the Primate returned to the old charge of irregularity, and told him
he could not recognize any of the proceedings carried on since his
adjournment. The Prolocutor replied, that he had been commanded by
the Lower House to bring up the paper, and did therefore present it,
as an Act of the House. After being laid upon their Lordships’ table,
the paper was found to contain arguments against the course pursued
by them in reference to Toland’s work. The Bishops now proposed
that committees from the two Houses should meet, with a view to an
amicable arrangement, but the majority of the Lower House refused to
nominate any committee for the purpose; a refusal which exceedingly
annoyed several members. The majority determined to ride the high
horse, and to dig the spur into its flanks; so when the schedule of
adjournment next time came down, the Prolocutor refused to notice
it at all, and adjourned on his own authority; an act against which
Beveridge, Sherlock, and others protested, in a paper which they
signed and presented to the Archbishop. What still more annoyed the
Upper House, was that the Clergy, under the Prolocutor’s presidency,
agreed upon a censure of a book by one of the Prelates. This was _The
Exposition of the XXXIX Articles_, by Bishop Burnet, in which, with
learning, moderation, and good temper, he expounded the doctrines of
the Church of England according to his idea, treating the Articles as
terms of peace and union, intended to receive a considerable latitude
of interpretation. Anything but unanimity and decorum of behaviour
marked the proceedings of the Lower Assembly at this moment; and
a report went abroad that one of the members, in consequence of a
speech he delivered, ran the risk of having his gown torn off his
back. The report is an exaggeration; it arose out of the conduct of
some one who, by rudely twitching the dress of a speaker, put an end
to his unpleasant oration. Words uttered within the Abbey walls were
reported outside in garbled forms, which led to explanations and
counter-explanations, to assertions and denials, which provoked fresh
controversy, and it became a difficult thing to determine what exactly
the two parties up in arms did and said. Enough, however, was manifest
to prove, that many of the ministers of religion, assembled to promote
the prosperity of Christ’s Church, were sadly forgetful of the simplest
lessons of the Gospel.
[Sidenote: 1701.]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Connected with the presentation of the censure upon Burnet’s book
to the Upper House, there occurred two or three curious episodes.
Adjoining the Jerusalem Chamber is a small apartment called the Organ
Chamber; and there, a month before, on the 5th of April, had happened
an incident which ruffled the feelings of the very reverend Prolocutor,
and the clergymen who accompanied him. They were kept waiting at their
Lordships’ door, as they said, an hour and a half, as their opponents
said, only so long as was needful to read their paper and debate upon
it; the circumstance being attributed by some to the insolence of the
Prelates, by others, to a mistake of the doorkeeper. On the 30th
of May, when the Prolocutor, with the Deans of Windsor and Christ
Church, went up with the paper about Burnet’s book, and were again
waiting a while in the same antechamber, the Bishop of Bangor came
out, commissioned by their Lordships, to ask the Prolocutor whether
the message he had now to bring in, was to set right the irregularity
complained of? The Prolocutor, according to the Bishop’s report,
said, first “it was something in order to set that irregularity
right;” then, correcting himself, he added, “it was concerning that
irregularity.” After which the door to the chamber being opened, in
walked the Prolocutor and his companions, the Archbishop observing
to them, “If you have anything to offer, in order to the setting
right the irregularity we have complained of, we are ready to receive
it.” Immediately the Prolocutor stated, that he had brought a humble
representation touching an _Exposition of the XXXIX Articles_,
that it had no relation to the alleged irregularity; but with regard to
that, they were ready to satisfy their Lordships whenever called upon
to do so. The paper containing the censure was rejected, and some of
the Prelates considered the Prolocutor had employed a subterfuge for
its introduction. The Bishop of Bangor, in so many words, complained of
prevarication, a charge which fanned the Lower House into a blaze of
resentment.
At this time, as on a former occasion, some of the minority in the
Lower House protested against the proceedings of the majority, by
signing a paper to that effect, to be presented to the Bishops; George
Bull, Archdeacon of Llandaff, being amongst those who appended their
names. This protest, in its turn, became another element of discord.
[Sidenote: 1701.]
Upon the 6th of June, as the Prolocutor and others of the Lower House
crowded the little Organ Chamber, whom should they find there, quietly
putting on his robes, but the Welsh Bishop, whom they so much disliked.
Looking at him, the incensed president of the Lower Clergy asked,
according to one version, “Were you pleased to say in the Upper House
that I lied to you?” According to a second, “My Lord of Bangor, did
you say I lied?” The Bishop answered, in some disorder, “I did not say
you lied; but I did say, or might say, that you told me a very great
untruth.” Amidst threats and demands of satisfaction, the Prelate was
glad to get out of the noise of the crowded anteroom into the serene
atmosphere of the more spacious chamber; which, however, as soon as
the Prolocutor had been admitted within the door, witnessed a renewal
of personal strife. Bishop Humphreys adhering to his statement about
what had taken place, and Dean Hooper adhering to his, something still
worse immediately followed. The Prolocutor having inquired whether
their Lordships had entered upon their Acts any reflections upon
him, Tenison rejoined, with all his rock-like firmness, and all his
prudent control of temper, “Acts, we have no acts, only minutes.” The
Prolocutor’s inquiry proved too much for Burnet, the person attacked
in the paper, who now--with characteristic impetuosity, his round face
no doubt flushed with scarlet--cried aloud with a sonorous voice,
“This is fine, indeed. The Lower House will not allow a committee to
inspect their books, and now they demand to see ours.” “I ask nothing,”
exclaimed the Prolocutor, “but what I am concerned to know, and what
of right I may demand.” “This,” retorted Burnet, “is according to your
usual insolence.” “Insolence, my Lord, do you give me that word?”
asked the other. “Yes, insolence,” reiterated the Bishop of Salisbury;
“you deserve that word, and worse. Think what you will of yourself,
I know what you are.” The Archbishop, wondering whereunto all this
might grow, civilly interposed, that perhaps the Prolocutor had been
misrepresented, which the Prolocutor turned to his own advantage, and,
to Burnet’s annoyance, wound up this extraordinary altercation with
the remark, that he was “satisfied if in this matter he stood right in
their Lordships’ opinion; about what his Lordship of Salisbury pleased
to think, he felt not much concerned.” Back went the Dean to Henry
the VII.’s Chapel, determined to make the best of the business to the
Clergy, who sat down to hear his report; but when he said that the
Upper House had expressed their satisfaction, or seemed to be satisfied
(for the _ipsissima verba_ in these contentions were continually
coming into question), up rose one who had attended him to the Bishops’
chamber, to say, “he must do this justice to declare, that their
Lordships did not so much as seem to be satisfied, but had showed their
partiality.”[343]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Another heap of fuel was by all this cast upon the already blazing
fire, and it was moved that the House should resent the indignity
offered to their Prolocutor in the execution of his office, and return
him thanks for his conduct.
The House recorded in its minutes the following entry: “Whereas the
reverend the Prolocutor hath been hardly treated in the Upper House,
and particularly this 6th day of June, 1701, was taxed by the Bishop of
Salisbury as behaving himself with his usual insolence, saying further,
he deserved that and worse words, we cannot but resent this great
indignity offered to our Prolocutor and this House; and, therefore,
take this opportunity to return our most humble thanks for his conduct
in the faithful and recent discharge of his office upon all occasions.”
[Sidenote: 1701.]
The Upper House, on the 13th of June, determined that the Lower had
no power judicially to censure any book; that it ought not to have
entered upon the examination of one by a Bishop, without acquainting
the Bishops with it; that the censure on the Bishop of Sarum’s work was
in general terms, without any citation of passages; that the Bishop had
done great service by his _History of the Reformation_, and other
writings; and that, though private persons might expound the Articles,
it was not proper for Convocation to enter upon such a subject. They
also resolved, that the Bishop of Bangor had made a true and just
report of what had taken place between himself and the Prolocutor;
that the paper read by the latter did not relate to the irregularity
complained of; and that his answer was such as ought not to have been
given to his Grace, or to any member of the Upper House.
Convocation was prorogued to the 7th of August, then to the 18th of
September, and was at length dissolved with the Parliament.
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
All the Prelates, with three exceptions, concurred in these
proceedings. The exceptions were Compton, Bishop of London; Trelawny,
Bishop of Exeter; and Sprat, who, with the Deanery of Westminster, held
the Bishopric of Rochester.
Compton, after his extreme liberalism and low churchmanship at the
time of the Revolution, had, by the end of the century--soured,
perhaps, by being twice passed over in appointments to the
primacy--become a decided Tory; and now he threw his influence into the
High-Church scale, without, however, making himself conspicuous in the
Convocation controversy. Trelawny, one of the seven Bishops, had been
immensely popular in his native county at the time of the great trial,
and had formed the burden of a Cornish ballad--
“And shall Trelawny die?
And shall Trelawny die?
There’s twenty thousand Cornish lads
Will know the reason why.”
He retained a secret attachment to James II. after the Revolution.
That monarch had, in the midst of his troubles, promised to translate
him from Bristol to Exeter; but the turn of events in favour of
William, so it is insinuated, drew the Bishop into a betrayal of his
old master; at any rate, in some way, from William he obtained his
improved preferment; but afterwards he showed himself anxious to deny
that the Bishops had invited the Prince over, though, as he said, “we
found ourselves obliged to accept of the deliverance.”[344] Trelawny
never showed any sympathy with the party led by Tillotson, Burnet, and
Tenison; and, in the _Correspondence_ of Atterbury, he appears
as the chief of those to whom, as diocesan and friend, the lively
and interesting letters of the Archdeacon of Totness are addressed.
The Archdeacon constantly kept the Bishop informed of what was going
on in the Jerusalem Chamber and in Henry the VII.’s Chapel; and it
is plain, from the way in which he wrote, how much influence he had
acquired over his patron’s mind. The intimate, cordial, and approving
friend of Atterbury could not but be opposed to the proceedings of
Tenison and Burnet. Sprat was not a man of much principle; he had
joined with Dryden and Waller in poetic praise of Oliver Cromwell, he
had sat on James’ High Commission, he had read the _Declaration of
Indulgence_ in servile submissiveness, but with faltering lips; he
had voted for the Regency, and then taken the new oaths, and assisted
at the Coronation; and though he had cleared himself from the charge
of treason, there is reason to believe that he was Jacobite at heart.
He hated Nonconformists, and went in for High Church measures; and as
no love was lost between the Bishops of Rochester and Salisbury, the
latter said of the former, he had “been deeply engaged in the former
reigns, and he stuck firm to the party to which, by reason of the
liberties of his life, he brought no sort of honour.”[345]
[Sidenote: 1701.]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
In the spring of 1701, when the great ecclesiastical tournament was
going on within the Abbey walls, a new ecclesiastical knight entered
the lists outside, in the field of literature. He not only broke
a lance, but engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with the famous
antagonist who had distinguished himself equally in book-writing and
in debate; White Kennet came forward to answer Francis Atterbury.
White Kennet--a curious-looking person, whose forehead, to the day of
his death, bore witness to an accident which happened in his youth,
for he wore a large patch of black velvet over a ghastly scar--was
a man of great archeological research, an eminent Saxon scholar,
and a friend of Mr. Tanner and of Dr. Hicks. He had published, in
1695, his well known _Parochial Antiquities_, and now he sent
forth his _Ecclesiastical Synods and Parliamentary Convocations
historically stated and vindicated from the Misrepresentations of Mr.
Atterbury_. The title intimates that the object was not to test
the Convocation question by applying to it texts of Scripture, or the
opinions of the Fathers, or principles of reason, or the results of
experience; but to examine it closely in its connection with English
history and English law. After the fashion of the day, especially as
it appears in the polemical department, whilst using occasionally
courteous expressions, he deals very unpleasant blows, depreciating
his opponent’s learning, exposing his mistakes, pointing out where
he had confounded facts and fallen into sophistry, not omitting to
throw the shield of his erudition over Dr. Wake, who had been roughly
handled by his excited adversaries. Kennet’s main positions were--that
Parliamentary Convocations are not in essence and nature the same
things as ecclesiastical synods; that not spiritual affairs, but the
taxing of the Clergy, gave the first occasion of their being called
together in connection with Parliament--their first appearance in that
association being in the year 1282, in the eleventh year of Edward I.,
the first proctors of the rural priesthood being soon brought into
parliamentary attendance. Repeatedly he asserts that Parliamentary
Convocations, although ecclesiastical in their constituent parts, are
not ecclesiastical in their objects and purposes, and he repeatedly
charges Atterbury with confusing civil councils with sacred synods.[346]
[Sidenote: 1701.]
It was a pet idea with Atterbury, that Bishops should avail themselves
of the _præmunientes_ clause. Kennet undertook to show that
he was mistaken as to the time of its origin; that he incorrectly
maintained the constancy of its practical application; that he was
deceived in his notice of its nature and effect, and that the modern
had not, any more than the ancient Clergy, reason to be fond of it.
The provincial summons to Convocation, issued by an Archbishop, he
maintained to be a sufficient authority without diocesan writs. “From
the three or four first years of Queen Elizabeth,” he says, “when the
Protestant Clergy might be trusted for obedient subjects, there is not
one proof that ever any Bishop made a return of the _præmunientes_
to the Crown, or that ever the Crown challenged such a return from any
Bishop.”[347]
Of the erudition and ingenuity shown in Kennet’s book there can be no
doubt: it clears up some interesting archeological points in English
history; but I am at a loss to understand what bearing his arguments,
as far as they go--for it must be remembered he gives only the first
part of the work--are meant to have on the practical determination of
the controversy. If, as he represented, the existing Convocation was
but the relic of an extinguished prerogative of self-taxation, once
possessed by the Clergy, then it remained only the shadow of a name,
and stood amongst the meaningless things which it would be a good
clearance to sweep away. If he took such a view, he does not, as far as
I can find, express it; rather he assumes throughout, that Convocations
by Royal authority, under archiepiscopal control, without the power
of making laws or discussing theological or ecclesiastical questions,
are quite wise and proper. How they can be so when reduced to such a
nullity, it is difficult to conceive. Kennet’s theory, to any one free
from the prejudices and heartburnings of the dispute, is unsatisfactory
to the last degree.
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
When winter approached, the prospect of a new Parliament and a new
Convocation opened on the eyes of Atterbury with a fascinating effect;
and as the autumn leaves fell in the London parks, the Archdeacon
girded up his loins for a fresh attack. He was concerned about many
things--about the opposition his party was likely to encounter, about
the exact place of meeting of the Clergy, and about the execution of
the _præmunientes_ clause, notwithstanding Kennet’s destructive
criticisms. He says to Trelawny, “Unless some spirit be put into our
affairs, and the managers of them, and they attend here punctually,
and behave courageously, our cause must sink, and we must be broken;
for we are beset, and unless a vigorous stand be made, shall find they
will be too hard for us. Their Lay interest is much stronger than it is
imagined to be; they know it, and feel it, and accordingly speak in a
much higher strain than ever they used to do, and talk more securely of
success at the next meeting.”[348]
It was thought the Lower House needed more room for their assembly. Sir
Christopher Wren was consulted on the subject; but “any carpenter in
the town understood that matter as well as he, and I would undertake,”
said the impatient Archdeacon, “to bring one that should contrive seats
to hold near six score, which is more than ever yet met at once.”[349]
[Sidenote: 1702.]
Christmas festivities had scarcely ended, holly branches still hung
in the parish churches, when the new Convocation met. The day before
New Years’ Day, after a Latin service read by the Bishop of Oxford,
a Latin sermon preached by the Dean of St. Paul’s, and the King’s
writ and the Bishop of London’s certificate formally delivered, “the
Archbishop admonished the Clergy to retire into the chapel, at the west
end of the church, where morning prayers are usually said, and there,
under the conduct of the Dean of St. Paul’s, to choose a Prolocutor,
and present him in Henry the VII.’s Chapel, on Tuesday, the 13th of
January.”[350] No sooner had they met for that purpose, than the old
embers of strife were kindled afresh, and blazed up furiously as
before. The first contention pertained to proxy votes, the Dean of
Canterbury contending they were valid, others answering they were quite
contrary to custom, and indeed, that absent members were guilty of
contumacy till their absence received judicial excuse, and therefore
lay under a canonical impediment,[351] which for the time deprived
them of their ecclesiastical power. The election of Prolocutor was the
next struggle. Even such a candidate as Beveridge, decided Anglican as
he was, could not satisfy the extreme party, and they elected, by a
majority of 36 or 37 against 30, the Dean of Salisbury, Dr. Woodward,
a civilian who had grown popular with High Churchmen by opposing his
Diocesan. At that very moment, the two were engaged in litigation with
each other; and, in addition to this circumstance, which rendered the
election unseemly, the fact should be remembered that Woodward, now a
sharp thorn in the sides of Burnet, owed to that Prelate his church
preferment. The election over, the new Prolocutor approached the chair
occupied by the Dean of St. Paul’s as temporary president whilst the
votes were being taken; but the Dean kept possession of his seat, on
the ground that the Prolocutor could not preside when as yet there was
no House. The Prolocutor being duly presented to the Archbishop, on the
13th of January he made a speech, bristling with military allusions.
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
After this, Archbishop Tenison, rock-like as ever, in a graceful
tone, recommended charity and union, and lamented existing divisions;
the only good effect of which, he said, was the impulse it had given
to the study of historical questions, whereby light had fallen on
Convocational rights, privileges, and customs. “The Prolocutor and
Clergy were then ordered to withdraw to the consistory at the west end
of the church.” Now reappeared the old bone of contention. A schedule
of prorogation from the Archbishop reached the hands of the Prolocutor:
“A paper,” he called it, “by which their Lordships had adjourned
themselves;” a paper which he would not read to the House himself; a
paper which he gave the actuary to read; a paper to which he added
words of his own, substituting _this place_ for _Jerusalem
Chamber_--the gist of his treating the document thus, being that he
would not admit the power of the Upper House to prorogue the meeting
of the Lower. “Mr. Prolocutor,” said Archdeacon Beveridge, “I advise
you, in the name of Jesus Christ, not to open our first meeting in such
contempt and disobedience to the Archbishop and Bishops, and in giving
such offence and scandal to our enemies.” “I have,” replied Woodward,
“the power to alter the schedule when I intimate it.”[352] The battle
for independence now reopened, the majority of the Lower House, headed
by the defiant Prolocutor, resolving to fight it out to the last.
[Sidenote: 1702.]
The Clergy, on the 20th of January, assembled early in the cold nave
of the Abbey, after which they proceeded to prayers in the Jerusalem
Chamber. Thence they returned to Henry the VII.’s Chapel, where they
found the floor matted and curtains hung,--no small comfort on a
frosty morning.[353] If their feet were as warm as their tempers,
they had no reason to complain, for no sooner had they taken their
places than it was proposed to have prayers over again by themselves,
to show their independence. The motion was opposed. Debates followed.
The Archbishop’s messenger waited at the door while the question of
his being admitted was discussed. After “a little noise,” he came in
with the hated schedule of prorogation. The Prolocutor took it up,
and “playing with it in his hands, supposed it to be a paper about
adjourning; and at last repeated the place and time, and putting it
to the House for their pleasure, drew up a paper and read it.” This
occurred on the 22nd of January. Upon the 28th, the Prolocutor again
informed the members he had received a message of adjournment, but that
he would not communicate it except by order of the House. Dr. Freeman
maintained it ought to be delivered in obedience to the Archbishop. The
Prolocutor tartly replied, he did not need to be taught what was his
business; and Atterbury, starting up, accused Freeman of using indecent
words.[354] Then came discussions about committees for purposes
presented in the last Convocation. Further personalities arose.
One made an offensive allusion, another felt annoyed. “Expressions
were used,” it is said, “which might have laid the foundation of a
misunderstanding or something worse,” but for subsequent explanations.
On the 28th, Atterbury--the spirit of the storm--rejoiced in his native
element, as he proposed, and at last carried the point, that the
Prolocutor should have inserted in the minutes a phrase which assumed
the right of independent assembling. “This new and improper entry,” in
Kennet’s judgment, “so thrust upon the minutes, was the great cause of
widening the divisions in the Lower House.”[355]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Another source of discord was found in the quarrel between Burnet
and Woodward the Prolocutor. Some members complained of a breach of
privilege, and an indignity to Convocation offered to the Prolocutor
by Burnet, his Diocesan, who was said to have required him to attend
a visitation, while he was occupied with Convocational duties, and to
have issued a process against him for non-compliance. Burnet was also
charged by Woodward himself, with declaring that Convocation had no
privileges which it could plead.[356]
On the 9th of February, Beveridge “made a long and pathetic speech upon
the dispute at present depending between the two Houses.” “He earnestly
exhorted both sides to union, and to think of such methods of healing
the breach as might secure the Lower House’s liberty, and yet not
entrench on the Archbishop’s authority.” He so influenced his brethren,
that a committee was appointed to consider an expedient for composing
the differences relative to prorogations.[357] But to this note of
peace there speedily succeeded another outburst of war.
[Sidenote: 1702.]
[Sidenote: CONVOCATION.]
Never, perhaps, did Convocation pass through a more tumultuous day
than Thursday, the 12th of February, ushered in though it was by
a circumstance adapted to calm the spirit of ever so excited an
assembly. Between 9 and 10 o’clock, as the members of the Lower House
were pacing up and down the nave of Westminster Abbey--not then
crowded with monuments as it is now--waiting for the commencement of
business, and eager to know what turn discussions were about to take,
news came that Woodward, the Prolocutor, had been taken ill--very ill,
and could not possibly attend to his duties. He must send a deputy,
said his friends, and the deputy sent, turned out to be Aldrich, Dean
of Christ Church, a man of like spirit with the Prolocutor himself.
Upon proceeding to read prayers in the Lower House, this deputy
was interrupted by a question, whether he ought to take the chair,
without receiving the sanction of the Archbishop to his appointment.
Kennet and Birch hastily departed to inform his Grace of what had
been done; but on their way through the cloisters[358] to the yard,
into which opened the principal door to the Jerusalem Chamber, they
were stopped by another member, who proposed that they should return
and wait until after prayers. They did so. As Aldrich, encouraged by
Atterbury, ventured to take the chair, “a tumultuous noise” arose.
Opposing members “persisted with vehemence in their demand, that
the Dean of Christ Church should relinquish the chair.” They were
“peremptory in their manner”--they came “prepared for a rupture,”
says a nettled member on the other side.[359] In the midst of the
disturbance, Wickart, Dean of Winchester, and Archdeacon Beveridge,
removed the instrument of substitution from the table, and carried it
to the Upper House, where they met with a gracious reception. After
the two had ventured so far to take the matter into their own hands,
the Lower House came to a resolution formally to depute certain
others to go and wait upon their Lordships; but these messengers,
unlike their predecessors, were not admitted. Instead, an order was
despatched for the whole House to attend. Accordingly they left Henry
the VII.’s Chapel, the Dean of Christ Church at their head “in his
square cap and a verger before him,”[360] and crowded up the steps
to the Jerusalem Chamber, where, face to face with those whom they
regarded as their enemies, they heard from the lips of the Archbishop a
simple acknowledgment of a paper of consequence having been received,
in allusion to their choice of a deputy, as “an incident of great
moment;” and, besides, a formal announcement of prorogation until
February the 14th. This Atterbury and his friends confessed to be
“every way a surprise to them;” yet, nothing daunted, the Corypheus
of the party--as the members were struggling through the small room,
and the narrow passage which formed the only outlet from what was
the Prelates’ audience-room--pushed them on, crying, “Away to the
Lower House--to the Lower House.” In accordance with this boisterous
suggestion, about forty-two members rushed towards the steps of Henry
the VII.’s Chapel, and there, in defiance of archiepiscopal authority,
placed their sub-prolocutor in the chair, intending by this method
to constitute a House. Having, as they considered, thus saved their
rights, they then formally adjourned to the same day as the Upper
House had fixed. Woodward died on the 13th of February. The House now
destitute of a Prolocutor--a body without a head--became organically
incomplete, and therefore incapable of constitutional action. The first
object of desire with the members struggling for independence, was to
supply the deficiency; but this was what the Archbishop and his friends
in the Upper House were determined to prevent--being by this time tired
out of all patience with their impracticable brethren. When, therefore,
the Lower House, on the 14th, formally communicated intelligence of the
death of Dr. Woodward, his Grace curtly expressed surprise at the news,
and at once ordered a schedule of prorogation for the 19th, the day
after Ash Wednesday. Tenison persevered in the policy of prorogation.
On the 29th he told his brethren, in plain words, he meant to do so,
assuring them, on the one hand, that they were mistaken who thought
that he and the Bishops wished to bring Convocation into disuse; and
remarking, on the other, that such heats as theirs had given great
scandal to those who understood not the controversy, but were much
concerned that there should be any differences among men, who were by
profession ministers of the gospel of peace.
[Sidenote: 1702.]
The party who sympathized with the Bishops felt satisfied; a great
majority felt otherwise. They met of their own accord in Henry the
VII.’s Chapel, and having chosen a Chairman or Moderator, marched
up to the little old anteroom, which had become a sort of outpost
for the episcopal garrison, where the invincible besiegers were ever
pressing upon the trenches of the upper citadel. They were now met by
the Bishop of Lincoln, whom they requested to convey a message to the
other Bishops, expressing a desire to elect a Prolocutor. A new point
of difference immediately arose. As amidst the confusion of the crowded
apartments, some members began to dictate a message to the effect that
the House wished to proceed to an election, Kennet interposed, saying
he hoped the message would not be worded so, for they were not a House,
and were unable to act as such; and, moreover, some of the members, he
being one, did not agree to the proposed message. The Bishop wrote down
the communication as coming from certain members of the Lower House--a
form of expression vehemently opposed by several of the listening and
agitated group, and bringing down hot indignation upon him who had
suggested it.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF WILLIAM III.]
One death had already disabled the Lower House, another death suddenly
and completely extinguished its paralyzed and convulsed existence.
William of Orange fell from his horse as he was riding in the
neighbourhood of Hampton Court, and broke his collar-bone. Removed to
Kensington, he was seized with shivering fits, and it soon appeared
death was approaching. The Earl of Portland states, “that when he was
once encouraging him, from the good state his affairs were in both home
and abroad, to take more heart, the King answered him, that he knew
death was that which he had looked at on all occasions without any
terror; sometimes he would have been glad to have been delivered out of
all his troubles, but he confessed now he saw another scene, and could
wish to live a little longer. He died with a clear and full presence
of mind, and in a wonderful tranquillity. Those who knew it was his
rule all his life long to hide the impressions that religion made on
him, as much as possible, did not wonder at his silence in his last
minutes; but they lamented it much, they knew what a handle it would
give to censure and obloquy.”[361] Early on Sunday, January the 8th,
he received “the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist, with great devotion,
from the hands of the Archbishop of Canterbury”[362]--about 8 o’clock
he was a corpse. Round his neck a black ribbon was discovered with a
gold ring, and a lock of Queen Mary’s hair.
[Sidenote: 1702.]
[Sidenote: WILLIAM III.]
The moral conduct of the King had not been in accordance with his
religious professions. Burnet, who honestly gives his impressions of
William’s character, says in a few words, “He had no vice but of one
sort, in which he was very cautious and secret”--a statement which,
whilst it presents a contrast to James and Charles, who were barefaced
in their sensualities, admits the fact of William’s being addicted
to vicious indulgence, of which concealment neither expiated nor
diminished the guilt. It is not a little surprising that so many good
men, both Churchmen and Dissenters, who could not have been indifferent
to the interests of morality, should have lauded, as they did, the
Hero of the Revolution, both living and dead, as if he had been the
very ideal of virtue and piety. Yet Burnet, who was disposed to take
the most favourable view of his character, cannot be charged with
exaggeration when he informs us, that “he believed the truth of the
Christian religion very firmly, and he expressed a horror at atheism
and blasphemy, and though there was much of both in his Court, yet
it was always denied to him, and kept out of his sight. He was most
exemplary, decent, and devout in the public exercises of the worship of
God--only on week days he came too seldom to them. He was an attentive
hearer of sermons,[363] and was constant in his private prayers and
in reading the Scriptures; and when he spoke of religious matters,
which he did not often, it was with a becoming gravity. He was much
possessed with the belief of absolute decrees: he said to me, he
adhered to these, because he did not see how the belief of Providence
could be maintained upon any other supposition. His indifference
as to the forms of Church government, and his being zealous for
toleration, together with his cold behaviour towards the Clergy, gave
them generally very ill impressions of him.”[364] The effect of frigid
manners, felt by the nation at large, was deepened in the case of high
Churchmen, by William’s well-known Presbyterian predilections, and
his dislike to what is meant by Anglo-Catholicism. As we have seen,
during the life of Mary, he left the exercise of his prerogative in
reference to ecclesiastical matters in her hands, and after her death
meddled with them in the smallest possible degree, so that he never
could be said to have exerted any direct influence in the government
of the Church.[365] But, indirectly, by the Revolution itself, and
by the Act of Toleration which followed, and was promoted by him, he
changed the position of the Establishment altogether, and opened up to
the Episcopal Church a new career, in which conciliation instead of
persecution could alone prove its permanent safeguard, and a secret of
prosperity. The first monarch on the throne of these realms who loved
a constitutional system of religious liberty, William not only won
the affection of Dissenters, as he might be naturally expected to do,
but by his wise and equitable policy in this respect, laid the whole
kingdom and posterity under obligations which have never yet been fully
acknowledged.