England is properly the country of sectarists. _Multae sunt mansiones in
domo patris mei_ (in my Father's house are many mansions). An
Englishman, as one to whom liberty is natural, may go to heaven his own
way.
Nevertheless, though every one is permitted to serve God in whatever mode
or fashion he thinks proper, yet their true religion, that in which a man
makes his fortune, is the sect of Episcopalians or Churchmen, called the
Church of England, or simply the Church, by way of eminence. No person
can possess an employment either in England or Ireland unless he be
ranked among the faithful, that is, professes himself a member of the
Church of England. This reason (which carries mathematical evidence with
it) has converted such numbers of Dissenters of all persuasions, that not
a twentieth part of the nation is out of the pale of the Established
Church. The English clergy have retained a great number of the Romish
ceremonies, and especially that of receiving, with a most scrupulous
attention, their tithes. They also have the pious ambition to aim at
superiority.
Moreover, they inspire very religiously their flock with a holy zeal
against Dissenters of all denominations. This zeal was pretty violent
under the Tories in the four last years of Queen Anne; but was productive
of no greater mischief than the breaking the windows of some
meeting-houses and the demolishing of a few of them. For religious rage
ceased in England with the civil wars, and was no more under Queen Anne
than the hollow noise of a sea whose billows still heaved, though so long
after the storm when the Whigs and Tories laid waste their native
country, in the same manner as the Guelphs and Ghibelins formerly did
theirs. It was absolutely necessary for both parties to call in religion
on this occasion; the Tories declared for Episcopacy, and the Whigs, as
some imagined, were for abolishing it; however, after these had got the
upper hand, they contented themselves with only abridging it.
At the time when the Earl of Oxford and the Lord Bolingbroke used to
drink healths to the Tories, the Church of England considered those
noblemen as the defenders of its holy privileges. The lower House of
Convocation (a kind of House of Commons) composed wholly of the clergy,
was in some credit at that time; at least the members of it had the
liberty to meet, to dispute on ecclesiastical matters, to sentence
impious books from time to time to the flames, that is, books written
against themselves. The Ministry which is now composed of Whigs does not
so much as allow those gentlemen to assemble, so that they are at this
time reduced (in the obscurity of their respective parishes) to the
melancholy occupation of praying for the prosperity of the Government
whose tranquillity they would willingly disturb. With regard to the
bishops, who are twenty-six in all, they still have seats in the House of
Lords in spite of the Whigs, because the ancient abuse of considering
them as barons subsists to this day. There is a clause, however, in the
oath which the Government requires from these gentlemen, that puts their
Christian patience to a very great trial, viz., that they shall be of the
Church of England as by law established. There are few bishops, deans,
or other dignitaries, but imagine they are so _jure divino_; it is
consequently a great mortification to them to be obliged to confess that
they owe their dignity to a pitiful law enacted by a set of profane
laymen. A learned monk (Father Courayer) wrote a book lately to prove
the validity and succession of English ordinations. This book was forbid
in France, but do you believe that the English Ministry were pleased with
it? Far from it. Those wicked Whigs don't care a straw whether the
episcopal succession among them hath been interrupted or not, or whether
Bishop Parker was consecrated (as it is pretended) in a tavern or a
church; for these Whigs are much better pleased that the Bishops should
derive their authority from the Parliament than from the Apostles. The
Lord Bolingbroke observed that this notion of divine right would only
make so many tyrants in lawn sleeves, but that the laws made so many
citizens.
With regard to the morals of the English clergy, they are more regular
than those of France, and for this reason. All the clergy (a very few
excepted) are educated in the Universities of Oxford or Cambridge, far
from the depravity and corruption which reign in the capital. They are
not called to dignities till very late, at a time of life when men are
sensible of no other passion but avarice, that is, when their ambition
craves a supply. Employments are here bestowed both in the Church and
the army, as a reward for long services; and we never see youngsters made
bishops or colonels immediately upon their laying aside the academical
gown; and besides most of the clergy are married. The stiff and awkward
air contracted by them at the University, and the little familiarity the
men of this country have with the ladies, commonly oblige a bishop to
confine himself to, and rest contented with, his own. Clergymen
sometimes take a glass at the tavern, custom giving them a sanction on
this occasion; and if they fuddle themselves it is in a very serious
manner, and without giving the least scandal.
That fable-mixed kind of mortal (not to be defined), who is neither of
the clergy nor of the laity; in a word, the thing called _Abbe_ in
France; is a species quite unknown in England. All the clergy here are
very much upon the reserve, and most of them pedants. When these are
told that in France young fellows famous for their dissoluteness, and
raised to the highest dignities of the Church by female intrigues,
address the fair publicly in an amorous way, amuse themselves in writing
tender love songs, entertain their friends very splendidly every night at
their own houses, and after the banquet is ended withdraw to invoke the
assistance of the Holy Ghost, and call themselves boldly the successors
of the Apostles, they bless God for their being Protestants. But these
are shameless heretics, who deserve to be blown hence through the flames
to old Nick, as Rabelais says, and for this reason I do not trouble
myself about them.