CHAPTER XIII.

Theological science is a growth; and to its growth, as developed in our

own day, the labours of a long line of students have contributed. The

_genesis_ of doctrinal opinion is a subject worthy of much more

careful research than it has yet received. To find out how particular

dogmas have been broached and modified, how they have originated and

been unfolded, goes far to fix their truth or their falsehood; and

any man who would thoroughly understand the theology of this country,

must study carefully the chief authors of theological literature

in the seventeenth century. Andrewes, Donne, Jackson, Thorndike,

Taylor, Pearson, and Bull--More, Smith, Cudworth, and Barrow--Goodwin,

Owen, Baxter, Howe, and Charnock--were all eminent Divines of that

period--all, in different degrees, erudite scholars--all hard

thinkers; and although they belonged to schools of thought differing

in important respects, inasmuch as they read each other’s books, and

answered each other’s arguments, they could not but influence each

other’s minds. To ponder and to compare them is an exercise helpful

to a theological thinker in his search after truth. Unless we believe

in the infallibility of our own Church, whatever that Church may

be--unless we also believe our own Church to have collected every

part of theological truth, to have examined it under every possible

aspect, and to have secured the best possible point of view--all of us

who engage in sacred studies are bound not to confine ourselves to the

perusal of authors who belong to the way of thinking which prevails in

our own denomination. Rome has her _Index Expurgatorius_, and in

this she is perfectly consistent. Protestantism, whilst it condemns

the Romanist prohibition of inquiry, is excessively inconsistent, if

it encourages similar exclusiveness on the part of its own disciples,

or allows a wider circle of reading only for controversial purposes.

The narrowness of theological schools, and the bigotry of religious

sects, is very much owing to a limited acquaintance with books, and

to a prejudiced feeling against what is read when accustomed limits

are overstepped. And in reference to the authors of the seventeenth

century, it cannot be fairly denied--after all which may justly be

said touching the dryness and prolixity of their dissertations--that a

depth, thoroughness, and power may be found in some of these men which

we miss, with a few exceptions, in Divines of our own day.

As the writings of which I speak, together with other influences, have

served to produce phases of religious thought amongst ourselves, so

amongst them, the writings of earlier theologians, together with other

influences, served to produce the characteristic peculiarities of their

religious thought. We are apt to underrate the _number_ of ways in

which thinking is affected; and we often forget that a simple result

may proceed from most complex and composite causes. Many people imagine

that the climate of a country is determined entirely by position in

point of latitude--that every mile nearer the pole it must be colder,

and every mile nearer the equator it must be warmer; whereas numerous

and diversified agencies interfere with climate, and produce wonderful

curves in the isothermal lines. So, many people imagine that one

cause--the study of the Bible--solely determines theological opinion;

whereas, forces of all descriptions--even climate and scenery, race

and language, laws and memories, especially early education, domestic

life, books, friendships, and idiosyncrasies--have a share in the

result. Divines two centuries ago might not, any more than ourselves,

be conscious of the diversified and subtle operations to which they

were subjected; but that circumstance does not interfere with the fact

itself.

[Sidenote: THEOLOGY.]

There had been four broad lines of theological opinion long before

the middle of the seventeenth century, as there have been four broad

lines running on ever since. In the second century and onward we

meet with _patristic orthodoxy_, the great facts and principles

of Christianity taught by the Apostles being illustrated and

defended, especially in the Nicene age, by thoughtful men, who, in

the use of their natural faculties, by the blessing of Almighty God,

explained and established much which is true; not, however, without

an admixture of something which was false. In the third century

we meet with _Alexandrian philosophy_, which, by a natural

tendency, aimed at bringing the intellectual culture of the age

into connection with the Gospel; and therefore dwelt much upon the

reasonableness of Christianity, and the points of affinity between

it and certain forms of human opinion. In the fourth century we find

_dogmatic Evangelicalism_ gathered up by Augustine, and woven

into a distinctive system of Christian thought. At the same time the

element of _Mysticism_ appears at work, preparing for a vigorous

expression of itself during the middle ages. Throughout those ages

these four currents are traceable, generic resemblances, being marked,

of course, by specific varieties. At the Reformation two of these,

the Nicene and the Augustinian, are manifest enough in the English

Protestant Church, both struggling against Rome; each also struggling

with the other. The traces of Alexandrianism and of Mysticism, after

disappearing for awhile, become distinctly visible in the seventeenth

century.

It is impossible not to connect the Anglican development of that period

with the faith, the polity, and the worship of the Nicene age, and the

Puritan doctrines of the same period, with the theology and spiritual

life of Augustine. Nor can there be any doubt that the so-called

Latitudinarianism (I use the word in its historical sense) of the

Cambridge school comes in lineal succession to that of Alexandria. And

if Mysticism, as existing amongst Quakers, be not capable of showing

distinct historical links of connection with previous thinking, it

is plain that its elements had existed long before: a fact, indeed,

insisted upon by its more erudite exponents.[374] Anglicans, Puritans,

Latitudinarians, and Mystics were all of ancient lineage, although

some were unacquainted with, and might even be prejudiced against,

their ancestry. Besides, as already indicated, there were other and

more immediate influences at work. The ecclesiastical revolutions and

conflicts under Elizabeth and the Stuarts, the traditions of domestic

life, parental and school education, the atmosphere pervading social

circles, and especially the constitution of individual minds--these

served to shape systems which stood in direct and determined conflict

with one another. Nor let it be forgotten that, though divers factors

of religious thought may be enumerated, others exist which lie too deep

for discovery and analysis, even by the most subtle inquirers. If it

be true generally that we have no complete science of history, it is

eminently true of the history of theological opinion. There is mystery

in all growth, for there is mystery in all life; and it is idle to

suppose that, at least in this world, we shall ever arrive at a perfect

philosophy of the progress or activity of mind, in reference to that

which is at once, of all subjects, the most practical and the most

mysterious.

[Sidenote: THEOLOGY.]

It will assist the reader in understanding what follows, to observe

that, whilst all the theologians to be described appealed to Scripture,

each class had its own standard and principles of interpretation; and

that, whilst all professed to take the Bible as a whole, each selected

from it some favourite parts. The Anglicans, professedly as well as

actually, adopted the teaching of the first four or five centuries as

a guide to the meaning of Holy Writ. They looked upon that period as

the purest and ripest age of Christian wisdom, and concluded that the

Church of after-days has been, and is, bound to adhere to the faith

and order then established. The Puritans had no such idea of patristic

teaching, but contended for the full right of private judgment. Some

of the Fathers they valued and loved, particularly Augustine; yet

without attaching any special authority even to him. They professed

to come to the sacred oracles with unbiassed minds, and it is one of

their characteristic notions that the Holy Spirit, bestowed upon devout

seekers, remains alone the unerring Expositor of His own Word. The

Latitudinarians had their favourite authors, particularly of the Greek

philosophical school; and although they did not adopt the opinions of

the Puritans as to the teaching of the Spirit, any more than did the

Anglicans, yet, in common with both of them, they were prepared to seek

Divine assistance in the study of the sacred volume. What, however,

they mainly relied upon was their own reason. The Quakers, in their

turn, extolled the inward light, the illumination of Christ’s Spirit,

as explaining and supplementing the written Word. The Fathers, the Holy

Spirit, human reason, and the inward light, were the interpreters to

which different classes of Scripture students looked for help in their

momentous investigations. In connection with this difference another

presents itself. The Anglicans insisted upon those parts of Scripture

which relate to the Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Atonement,

and to the ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. They used the

priesthood and rites of Judaism for the support of their own views

regarding sacerdotal ministrations. Diocesan episcopacy and Apostolical

succession they endeavoured to deduce from the New Testament; but they

were obliged to rest principally upon patristic records for what they

believed and taught upon these subjects.

[Sidenote: THEOLOGY.]

Passages relating to justification by faith, to the election of grace,

and to the adoption of believers, do not stand out in their writings,

as do the other class of passages to which I have referred. In this

respect the Anglicans differed from the Puritans. By the latter,

texts bearing upon the topics now mentioned, in connection with other

texts touching the Divinity of our Lord, and the Holy Trinity, and

the satisfaction made by Christ upon the cross, were most abundantly

cited, illustrated, and enforced. The Puritans regarded such texts

as distinctive of the Gospel--as rendering it a suitable message of

redemption and love to sinful men. I scruple not to say that I warmly

sympathize with them in this last respect. The Gospel is glad tidings

of great joy to all people: this is the pith of the blessed message,

“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” “His name shall

be called Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.”

But whilst I admire and honour the Puritans for their attachment to

evangelic truth, I cannot conceal my conviction that they too, in their

turn, are chargeable with one-sidedness. They had their favourite

verses, and, in some instances, dwelt upon them to the neglect of

others, and without fully considering the general current of Scripture

instructions--which current is really still more important and decisive

than particular sentences, which are apt to be looked at apart from

their connection. Some of the Puritan Divines did not sufficiently

consider those passages which recognize in the Atonement an element

of moral power over the human soul; or those passages which present

justification and sanctification, in their inseparable relation, as

two sides of one and the same redemption; or those passages which

teach the power of the human will, the free agency of man, and his

personal responsibility; or those passages which unfold the sweet and

beautiful fatherhood of Almighty God. The reaction produced by the

errors of Popery in identifying sanctification with justification, in

overlooking the free grace of the Gospel, and in fostering notions of

human merit, drove the Puritans into extreme antagonistic positions,

where the forensic idea of righteousness too often overshadowed the

moral idea, and an inevitable and resistless fatalism took the place of

Divine parental government at once merciful and righteous. Some of the

Puritans, indeed, lie less open to such exceptions than did others, as

will appear in the subsequent analysis of their works.

The Latitudinarians also had their favourite portions of hallowed

Writ, raising the moral teaching of the New Testament, and what they

considered the large and liberal views of humanity given in the Bible,

above the doctrinal sentences which so much occupied the attention of

Anglicans on the one hand, and above those which equally occupied the

attention of Puritans on the other. To Latitudinarians, Christianity

seemed more an ethical than a doctrinal system; and in their writings

evangelic truth shines with a very subdued and chilly kind of

illumination.

The Quakers, too, had their favourite verses, and were continually

insisting upon those which, as they thought, supported the idea of an

inward light.

What has now been imperfectly advanced in relation to predominant lines

of thinking in the seventeenth century is to be accepted only in a

general sense. One writer differed so much from another, that, whilst

resemblances exist, mere general statements respecting them are likely

to mislead, unless they are checked and modified by a careful review of

individual opinions.

Such a review is now to be attempted, with a full conviction of its

very great difficulties.

[Sidenote: THEOLOGY.]

Taking the period between the opening of the Long Parliament and the

Revolution (1640–1688), I might divide it into two epochs--the one

extending as far as the end of the Commonwealth, the other beginning

at that crisis. Modes of thought of the kind just pointed out can

be traced along the whole course, abreast of each other. The two

antagonistic systems are Anglicanism and Puritanism; and from 1640

to 1660, Puritanism is seen in the ascendant, as a reaction against

Anglicanism; and from 1660 to 1688, Anglicanism is in the ascendant,

as a reaction against Puritanism. No doubt some slight differences

obtained between the Anglicanism of the first twenty years and the

Anglicanism of the last twenty-eight, and the same may be said of the

Puritanism of the first and second of those generations; but there

is no necessity for breaking the history into two parts, since the

general identity of each system is preserved throughout the whole

period, and all the leading representatives lived and studied, and

most of them acted and wrote, both before and after the Restoration;

besides, to separate their later from their earlier works would destroy

the unity of this narrative, and create confusion in the reader’s

mind. The Latitudinarians appeared at Cambridge before the death of

Oliver Cromwell, and at that period began to produce some effect upon

theological speculation and religious life; but it was not until

afterwards that their characteristic tendencies became fully apparent.

Quaker Mysticism took its rise in the midst of the Commonwealth era,

and continued its course, with increasing power, up to the hour of

the Revolution. Therefore to cut in two the theological history of

this half century would be inconvenient; and although the plan which

I adopt is open to objection, I shall select examples of the teaching

throughout that period, without adopting any chronological subdivision.

I shall begin with the Anglicans, then notice the Latitudinarians,

then touch upon the Quaker Mystics, and end with the Puritans. My

endeavour will be to state them as fairly as I can; not to indulge in

vague generalization, but to give their own words and turns of thought

whenever it is possible; and, by references as well as citations,

to supply the means of rectifying any mistakes into which I may

unfortunately happen to fall. In stating arguments on different sides,

I shall endeavour to guard against colouring reports of opinion with my

own predilections or prejudices. At the same time, I shall not refrain

from occasionally indicating, in a few words, my own belief; for no man

who has deep convictions touching these subjects, however he may strive

to write with impartiality about various parties, will dare to write

with indifference upon what he conceives to be vital truths. Moreover,

it appears to me very important to notice certain circumstances in

the lives of these authors; for it is quite clear to my mind, that we

cannot accurately understand the history of theology, or duly estimate

theological opinions, apart from the biography of the theologians

themselves.

Herbert Thorndike first claims attention. He possessed a mind which

was singularly acute and comprehensive. He had trained himself to the

practice of subtle reasoning, yet he generally gives, in his writings,

indications of no small measure of what Englishmen call common sense;

and, on every page, he exhibits those rich and varied treasures of

theological learning which a quiet life of study alone can enable any

one to accumulate. It cannot be denied that the formal method employed

in his arguments is often quite unimpeachable; yet, whilst logical in

reasoning, he is illogical in arrangement; and his discursive habits

of thought often tempt him into zigzag courses, and lead him to double

his path, and retrace his steps, and come back to some point which the

reader concludes the author had finished. And to this serious defect

he adds another: his crabbed and crooked style presents the most

infelicitous collocation of words, perhaps, to be found in English

literature, many of his sentences needing to be translated into some

plainer form before they can be understood. What a contrast, in point

of style, does the student find, when, leaving the majestic diction of

Hooker, or the flowing rhythm of Jackson, he turns to the perusal of

Thorndike’s paragraphs! Yet, in spite of drawbacks, Thorndike deserves

to be carefully studied. No other theologian of his age, or, indeed, of

any other, has wrought out the Anglican theory with such elaboration

and completeness. The disciples of that system find in his books an

arsenal of defence; and its opponents should examine carefully his

positions, if they would overthrow the citadel in which Divines of his

order are wont to entrench themselves. But he ought not to be studied

simply for controversial purposes: any large-minded student, with

sympathy for God’s truth wherever found, may derive great advantage

from many parts of this good man’s writings.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--THORNDIKE.]

In common with some other Divines of that day, he passed through a

change of opinion, and that at an early period of life. He went to

Cambridge with no strong theological bias of any kind, and entered

Trinity College at a time when that College was accused neither of

Puritan nor of Romanizing tendencies. But he thought less unfavourably

of Calvinism at the commencement of his studies than he did during his

subsequent career. At first he did not, without some qualification,

condemn the doctrine of final perseverance; also he then opposed other

parts of the system upon grounds which he afterwards abandoned, as not

sufficiently distinct and fundamental. He was also far less severe when

controverting the arguments of Nonconformists in the former than in the

latter period of his life.[375] Patristic studies, to a large extent,

most likely produced the change which he experienced; and his ejectment

from his Fellowship at Trinity by the Presbyterians would naturally

serve to increase his growing distaste for their distinguishing tenets.

The book in which he unfolds his scheme of divinity was written before

the Restoration, and bears the title of _An Epilogue to the Tragedy

of the Church of England_ (1659): a title which provoked the

criticisms of his friends, especially afterwards, when the book proved

to be a prologue to that Church’s revival. The work contains _The

Principles of Christian Truth_; _The Covenant of Grace_; and

_The Laws of the Church_.

In laying down the principles of Christian truth, Thorndike, as an

Anglican, somewhat startles his reader by his first position, that

reason is to decide controversies of faith[376]--a form of words which,

taken alone, certainly conveys an idea very different from what the

writer intends. Any rationalistic interpretation is prevented by what

follows. He proceeds, indeed, to explain that neither the private

teaching of the Spirit of God to the individual soul on the one

hand, nor the authority of the Church in relation to men in general

on the other, can be the ground of believing. But, on that account,

he does not enthrone human reason. He adds, that there is obscurity

in Scripture, all truth being in it _not explicitly_ but only

_implicitly_; and he argues that whilst the Bible is sufficient in

one sense, it is not so in another, and that it therefore needs such

interpretation as is supplied by the traditions of the Church.[377]

The use of reason (or reasoning) in matters of faith is resolved by

him into this--that by it “all undertake to persuade all,” and its

only scope is in the examination of evidence. Yet what are commonly

called the evidences of Christianity are very much overlooked in

Thorndike’s writings. There are numerous incidental allusions to the

opinions of Herbert and Hobbes. Sometimes these writers are grappled

with; but reliance on reasoning is abandoned when, by this Divine,

outlawry is maintained to be “the penalty of the Leviathan, and all

that have or may follow him either into apostasy or atheism.”[378]

Thorndike, indeed, touches on both the external and internal proofs of

revealed religion, but he nowhere, that I can find, thoroughly and at

length discusses the matter. I may here observe, in passing, that he

speaks with approval of the way in which the Jewish Doctors resolve

inspiration into different degrees.[379] But the interpretation of

Christianity is, in his view, the office of the Church. The Church,

he maintains, is a permanent teacher, its permanence depending upon

Apostolical succession, and its tuition finding expression in the

decisions of Councils and in the writings of Fathers; the authority of

the latter being explained as not arising out of personal qualities of

learning and holiness, but out of ecclesiastical position. Tradition

limits the interpretation of Holy Writ; but this principle “pretends

not any general rule for the interpretation of Scripture, even in those

things which concern the rule of faith, but infers a prescription

against anything that can be alleged out of Scripture, that, if it

may appear contrary to that which the whole Church hath received

and held from the beginning, it cannot be the true meaning of that

Scripture which is alleged to prove it.” At the same time Thorndike

says, that the power of the Church limits the tradition of Apostles

only in matters of ceremony and order, such as are indifferent in

themselves; changes in circumstances, and in the usages of society,

rendering changes of that nature necessary and unavoidable: a

conclusion equivalent to the well-known one that the Church hath

power, within certain bounds, to decree rites and ceremonies. Heresy,

Thorndike defines as consisting in the denial of something necessary

to salvation; and schism to consist in a departure from the unity

of the Church, whether from heresy, or from any other cause. Upon

these principles--which he defends at great length, not without

many discursions, and sometimes in a manner which it is difficult to

follow--Thorndike declares the Church of England to have laid her deep

foundations; and her main position is by him asserted to be, that,

repudiating all pretensions to infallibility, she owns tradition to be

her guide, and requires that “no interpretation of the Scriptures be

alleged contrary to the consent of the Fathers.”[380]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--THORNDIKE.]

The covenant of grace is examined by this Divine at great length; and,

if I may be allowed the attempt, I would give an outline of his method

somewhat as follows:--

I. The _condition_ of that covenant is the contract of baptism,

and that contract is identical with justifying faith. Such faith is not

simply credence, or trust, or persuasion--it is not merely the belief

of a Divine testimony, or a reliance upon a Divine person--nor is it a

conviction that one is already justified and predestinated to life; but

is an acceptation of Christianity, “embracing and professing it” as a

whole. Faith, as enjoined by St. Paul and St. James, and as exemplified

in the lives of the Hebrew patriarchs, is essentially practical; and

when the former Apostle puts faith in opposition to works, he means

the works of Jewish law, and not the works of Gospel precept. Faith

is rooted “in the affection of the will, not in the perfection of the

understanding.” Yet good works are entirely the production of Divine

grace.[381] Though the Fathers are free to acknowledge, with St.

Paul, the doctrine of justification by faith alone, they are, on the

other side, so copious in attributing the promises of the Gospel to

Christian obedience, that it may be truly said, there is not one of

them from whom sufficient authority may not be drawn in favour of it: a

concurrence which amounts to a tradition of the whole Church upon this

important point.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--THORNDIKE.]

II. The _necessity_ of the covenant of grace arises out of

original sin, which is confessed by David and St. Paul, which consists

in concupiscence, and which cleaves to every man by his first birth,

the birth of a carnal nature.[382]

III. The _Mediator_ of the covenant is the Divine Christ, the

Angel of the Lord, whose apparitions of old “were prefaces to the

Incarnation”--the Word, who was in the beginning, by whom all things

were created, and who was made flesh. He is “the great God,” with St.

Paul; the “true God,” with St. John; the “only Lord God,” with St.

Jude. Scripture abounds in proofs of His Godhead. To the full meaning

of these titles, as expressed by other texts in equivalent terms, the

early Church’s belief in Christ’s Divinity, and the writings of the

ante-Nicene Fathers, Ignatius, Justin, Irenæus, Clement, and Origen,

bear concurrent witness. The fact of a Trinity in the Godhead is

fully and clearly stated in Scripture. The admission of the mystery

is reconcilable with reason; but no one can explain the secrets of

the Divine nature, and it is only rational that, on such a subject,

we should submit to the teaching of revelation. “All dispute about

essence, and persons, and natures, and all the terms whereby either the

Scriptures express themselves in this point, or the Church excludes

the importunities of heresies from the true sense of the Christian

faith, improves no man’s understanding an inch in this mystery. The

service it does, is to teach men the language of the Church, by

distinguishing that sense of several sayings which is, and that which

is not, consistent with the faith. And if any man hereupon proceed, by

discourse upon the nature of the subject, to infer what is and what is

not such, his understanding is unsufferable.”[383]

IV. The _method_ of the covenant is gracious. All its provisions

depend entirely upon the grace of Christ. But salvation is not through

any Divine predestination of the will of man. God determines not

what the moral acts of His creatures shall be in themselves, but

only the practical results of them. The soul is free from necessity,

though not from bondage; and the doctrine of the predetermination

of the human will is not the root but the rooting up of freedom and

of Christianity. Nothing formally determines the will of man, but

his own act. Predestination to the enjoyment of grace is absolute,

but predestination to the enjoyment of glory is conditional, and has

respect to character. The end _to_ which God predestinates is

not the end _for_ which He predestinates. Grace is the reward of

the right use of grace. Upon this entire subject, the tradition of

the Church runs counter to Predestinarianism, to Arminianism, and to

Pelagianism.[384]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--THORNDIKE.]

Thorndike says, in reference to Calvinism: “It seems that God’s

predestination must of force appoint salvation to them that are to be

saved, in the first place; from thence proceeding to design the way and

order by which the person designed to it may be induced of his own free

choice to accept the means of it. This slight mistake,” he observes,

“seems to have been the occasion of many horrible imaginations, which

even Christian Divines have had, of God’s design from everlasting to

create the most part of men on purpose to glorify Himself by condemning

them to everlasting torments, though in consideration of the sins which

they shall have done.” “The mistake is,” he remarks, “that the end of

the creature by God’s appointment, is taken for God’s end, which though

it be His end because He appointeth it for His creature, yet it is not

any end that He seeks for Himself.” God, being of Himself sufficient

for Himself, can have no end upon human beings. He is personally

disinterested. Nothing accrues to Him, nothing is lost by Him; all

the gain or loss is by the creature; and, having given a moral law to

intelligent beings, He will abide by that law, and bestow happiness

upon them accordingly.

Salvation is through the satisfaction of Christ, who, by His

propitiatory sacrifice perfected in death, paid the ransom of human

souls. He expiates our sin by bearing the punishment of it, and we are

reconciled to God by the Gospel in consideration of Christ’s obedience.

This is taught by the sacrifices according to the law, by the prophet

Isaiah, and in the New Testament. Socinus is altogether in error,

and the doctrine that Divine grace rests on a satisfaction made for

guilt is the doctrine of the Catholic Church. Yet neither according to

Scripture nor according to patristic teaching, are our sins imputable

to Christ, or His sufferings imputable to us: the latter are but the

meritorious causes of the Christian covenant, and the promises of the

Gospel depend upon His active as well as His passive obedience. Yet

though all this be true--though salvation is now actually conveyed only

through the work of Christ--yet God might have reconciled man to

Himself in some other way.[385]

Salvation is not secured by a decree of perseverance, but the saying of

the schoolman is true--_Deus neminem deserit, nisi desertus_, God

leaves no man that leaves not Him first; and, though the assurance of

salvation is not included in the act of justifying faith, it follows as

the consequence of it.[386]

Finally, with respect to the covenant of grace, salvation is

not through obedience to the original law of God--for that is

impossible--but through the fulfilment of evangelical precepts. The

fulfilment, if not perfect, may be acceptable, for there are venial as

well as mortal offences; and if, among men, friendship long exercised

suffers not a man who stands upon his credit to break with his friend

upon ordinary offences, we see the reason why God so often helps His

ancient people in respect of that covenant, which they, for their

parts, had made void and forfeited; and therefore how much more He

obligeth Himself to pass by these failures and weaknesses which

Christians endeavour to overcome, although they cannot fully do it.[387]

Thorndike describes not so much salvation itself as the means of

salvation. He nowhere endorses the dogma of Trent which confounds

justification with sanctification; neither does he clearly distinguish

between these two blessings. In his writings much may be found upon

justifying faith, little upon justification as a distinct theological

idea; and what little may be discovered is by no means explicit.[388]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--THORNDIKE.]

Such is a very condensed account of Thorndike’s scheme of salvation by

grace. Yet enough is seen to show the theological student how closely

this Anglican Divine in some points touches upon the creed of the

Romish Church, how now and then he even crosses the line; and the fact

is made still more clear by his distinctions between matters of precept

and matters of counsel,--by his notions of Christian perfection,--by

his stating that the backslider’s recovery of God’s grace is a work of

labour and time,--by his doctrine of the efficacy of penance,--and by

the position, that there is a sense in which the works of Christians

may be regarded as satisfying justice with regard to sin, and as

meriting heaven.[389]

What Thorndike advances respecting the laws of the Church must be

reported with still more brevity. The Church is founded upon the duty

of communicating in Divine offices, particularly in the sacrament of

the Eucharist, wherein, with the elements, Christ Himself is present,

not simply through the living faith of the recipient, but because of

the true profession of Christianity in the Church; nevertheless, the

invisible faithfulness of the heart, in making good or in resolving

to make good the said profession, makes the receiving of it effectual

to the spiritual eating and drinking of Christ’s body and blood.

Which Eucharist also, according to the New Testament and the Fathers,

Thorndike maintains, may be accounted a sacrifice, first as to the

oblation of the bread and wine; secondly, as to the offering of prayer;

thirdly, as to the consecration of the elements, whereby they become

a propitiatory and impetratory offering; and fourthly, as to the

presenting to God of the bodies and souls of the receivers. He argues

for the baptism of infants, on the grounds, that there is no other

cure for original sin; that the children of Christians are holy, and

may be made disciples; and that the effect of circumcision under the

law inferreth the effect of baptism under the Gospel. This third book

also treats of penance, extreme unction, marriage, government, and,

in particular, of the Papal supremacy, and of the Presbyterian and

Independent schemes; of the days, places, forms, and subject matter of

Divine service; of the state of souls after death; of prayer to saints,

and image worship; of monachism, and the celibacy of the clergy; and,

lastly, of the relation of the ecclesiastical and civil powers. In some

cases this Divine draws a pretty broad distinction between what he

holds as Catholic views and the views which are held by the Church of

Rome; but in other cases the difference is so refined that it becomes

almost imperceptible. No doubt Thorndike may, on technical grounds,

be vindicated from the charge of Romanism proper; and it may be said

that, in his defence of prayers for the dead, he follows Ussher; and

that, in his doctrine respecting the Eucharist, he symbolizes with

Cosin and with Bramhall, with Hammond and Taylor and Ken.[390] Between

him and many clergymen of the Established Church in the present day

a strong resemblance exists; but certainly, in the judgment of other

theologians, whose opinions will be stated hereafter, and in the

judgment of such as may be deemed their successors, the tendency of

Thorndike’s teaching is decidedly towards Rome; and, whatever may

be the distinction drawn between the Catholicism taught by him, and

the Catholicism of the Council of Trent, that distinction, in some

particulars, although comprehended by metaphysical Divines, is scarcely

to be discerned by plain English understandings.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--BULL.]

George Bull may be placed next to Herbert Thorndike. Bull was admitted

into Exeter College, Oxford, two years before the imposition of the

Engagement. That Act, in 1649, ejected him; in consequence of which he

became a student in the house of a Presbyterian Rector. The Puritan

influence in the rectory, however, became neutralized by the Rector’s

son, through whose friendship the young student came to study Hooker,

Hammond, Taylor, Grotius, and Episcopius. The father foresaw the

result, and, looking at it from his own point of view, would often say,

“My son will corrupt Mr. Bull.”[391]

Bull has not, like Thorndike, bequeathed any treatise on systematic

Divinity in general, nor has he propounded views of the extreme kind,

which the former has done in his _Laws of the Church_; but between

Bull’s two great works and certain aspects of Thorndike’s teaching

there is a considerable resemblance.

The first great work produced by him is his _Harmonia Apostolica_,

published in 1670, in which he propounds his views upon justification.

His general method is to examine the Scriptures in the light of

patristic teaching; and, adopting the same principles of interpretation

as Thorndike, he arrives at similar conclusions. He is quite as

learned as the contemporary of his earlier days, and he is far more

lucid and methodical in his mode of treatment; for he can be easily

followed, and he can be clearly understood. Also, he is much more

cautious in his statements, and he carefully strives to save himself

from misapprehension. He attributes salvation entirely to Christ’s

meritorious obedience, of which obedience Christ’s death was the

consummation and completion. Bull maintains that this obedience

satisfied Divine justice, that this alone is the efficacious cause

of eternal life; and he constantly insists that no man can, without

Divine grace, and the assistance of the Holy Spirit, as flowing from

the precious side of the Crucified One, perform the conditions of the

covenant.

He further distinctly states, as the result of a careful examination

of Scripture, “that the word justification, in this subject, has

the meaning of a judicial term, and signifies the act of God as

a Judge, according to the merciful law of Christ, acquitting the

accused, pronouncing him righteous, and admitting him to the reward

of righteousness, that is, eternal life.”[392] But, though adopting

the _forensic_ view of justification, and thus moving in the

same line as Martin Luther, Bull differs from the German Reformer in

this very important respect--that, instead of taking law to mean law

apart from the Gospel, he explains it to mean law as incorporated in

the Gospel; for he says, “It must be ever observed, as an undeniable

truth, that Christ, in His sermon, not only explained the moral law,

but also laid it down as His own, and required its observance, assisted

by the grace of the Gospel, from all Christians, as a condition of His

covenant indispensably necessary.” It is this view of the law which

lies at the foundation of Bull’s theory of justification. Consistently

with it, he reduces his argument to this syllogistic form--“Whoever

is acquitted by the law of Christ must necessarily fulfil that law;

but by faith alone, without works, no one fulfils the law of Christ;

therefore by faith alone, without works, no one is acquitted by the law

of Christ.”[393]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--BULL.]

Having arrived at such a conclusion from the study of the Epistle

of St. James, then comes the _pinch_: how is such a conclusion

to be reconciled with the teaching of St. Paul? The learned author,

after hastily disposing of other methods of reconciliation, prepares

for defending his own, by laying down the principle that St. Paul’s

teaching is to be explained by St. James’ and not St. James’ by

St. Paul’s; our critic believing, with Augustine, that St. James

wrote after St. Paul--an assumption contradicted by modern Biblical

criticism. Bull, then, asserts, that faith, to which justification

“is attributed by St. Paul, is not to be understood as one single

virtue, but denotes the whole condition of the Gospel covenant--that

is, comprehends in one word all the works of Christian piety.”

“Assuredly,” he adds, “it is clearer than light itself, that the

faith to which St. Paul attributes justification is only that which

worketh by love, which is the same as a new creature, which, in short,

contains in itself the observance of the commandments of God.” In

order to get over the great objection arising from the plain words

of St. Paul, that “a man is justified by faith, _without the deeds

of the law_,” this controversialist attempts to show, that the

works which St. Paul excludes from justification are not all kinds of

works, but works of a certain description only,--namely, works of the

Mosaic law, and works of the natural law, works done in obedience to

the Jewish ritual, and works done by the force of nature. Bull then

proceeds to dwell at considerable length upon the Apostle’s argument

from the universality of sin, and the weakness of the law; and, as the

result, he presents two deductions--first, that the Apostle entirely

excludes from justification only those works which are performed by the

aid of the Mosaic, and of the natural law, without the grace of the

Gospel; secondly, that the Apostle’s argument, so far from taking away

from justification the necessity of good works, proves that the true

righteousness of works is absolutely necessary to justification, and

that the Gospel is the only efficacious method by which any man can be

brought to practise such righteousness.[394]

The coincidence of Bull’s teaching with Thorndike’s, as to the grounds

of faith, appears in the following passage:--

“God knows the secrets of my heart; so far am I from the itch of

originality in theological doctrines, ... that whatever are sanctioned

by the consent of Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops, though my own

small ability attain not to them, yet I will embrace them with all

reverence. In truth I had already learned, by no few experiments, in

writing my _Harmony_, while yet a young man, what now in my mature

age I am most thoroughly persuaded of, that no one can contradict

Catholic consent, however he may seem to be countenanced for a while by

some passages of Scripture wrongly understood, and by the illusions of

unreal arguments, without being found in the end to have contradicted

both Scripture and sound reason. I daily deplore and sigh over the

unbridled license of prophesying which obtained for some years in this

our England, ... under the tyranny of what some considered a wretched

necessity. In a word, my hearty desire is this, Let the ancient customs

and doctrines remain in force.”[395]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--BULL.]

The publication of the _Harmonia Apostolica_ occasioned much

controversy. Answers appeared, written by Charles Gataker, son of

Thomas Gataker, one of the Westminster Divines; by Joseph Truman,--who,

though refusing to conform as a clergyman to the Established Church,

remained in it as a lay communicant; by Dr. Thomas Tully, Principal

of St. Edmund’s Hall, Oxford, a man of high reputation for learning

and ability; and by John Tombes, the Anti-pædobaptist,--who, like

Truman, declined ministerial conformity, but at least occasionally

practised communion. Truman differed from Bull less than did the other

combatants. Not to be wearisome, I would merely state, that his part

in the dispute mainly turned upon the question, What is grace? Bull,

in Truman’s estimation, regarding it as a bestowment of spiritual

power, to be improved or misimproved, according to the will of the

recipient; Truman, who in this respect anticipated the opinions of

modern Calvinists, representing grace as a Divine influence securing

the obedience of the will to the Gospel of Christ. He highly commended

that sober sentiment of the great Bishop Sanderson, who, confessing

his own disability to reconcile the consistency of grace and free-will

in conversion, and being sensible that they must both be maintained,

tells us, he ever held it “the more pious and safe way, to place

the grace of God in the throne, where we think it should stand, and

so to leave the will of man to shift for the maintenance of its own

freedom, as well as it can, than to establish the power and liberty

of free-will at its height, and then to be at a loss how to maintain

the power and efficacy of God’s grace.”[396] Gataker, Tully, and Tombes

were, what might be termed, High Calvinists. The first maintained, in

opposition to the Author of the _Harmonia_, as it appears from his

reply,--that remission of sins is entirely extraneous to justification,

that there are conditions in the Gospel covenant which are not

conditions of Gospel justification, that repentance is a condition of

the Gospel joined by Christ with faith, but it is not a condition of

justification, and that we are justified by the imputed righteousness

of Christ.[397] Tully treated Bull as an innovator; and after alluding

to Socinians and Papists, insinuated that he belonged to those, “who

perfidiously serving the interests of one or other of these parties,

shamelessly take to themselves the title of sons of the Church of

England.”[398] Tully contended for justification by faith alone; and,

injudiciously adding to the Scriptural argument the authority of the

Fathers, which he maintained to be in his favour, laid himself open to

the attacks of his opponent, who criticised his citations, and turned

against him testimonies from Irenæus, Origen, Cyprian, Hilary, Basil,

and Ambrose. The judgment of the Church of England, and of the Reformed

Churches on the Continent, also came under debate in this department

of the controversy; Bull and his antagonists each claiming patristic

witnesses on his own side. Also the doctrine of the saint’s final

perseverance, and the limitation of the efficacy of the atonement to

the elect, were points asserted by Tully and denied by Bull. Tombes’

book seems to have been of a more discursive kind than the rest; and

to have aimed at answering not only the _Harmonia_, but also

_Aphorisms_, written by Richard Baxter, whose name we find much

mixed up in this controversy;--and by an alliteration very agreeable

to the taste of that day, associated with the names of Bull and

Bellarmine. Bull’s name is provocative of puns; and we find the author,

in his preface to the _Examen Censuræ_, commenting on Tombes in

the following manner, which shows the kind of attack to which Tombes

had descended:--“He,” says our author, “need not fear the horns and

stamping of the Bull (such is his wit, which foreigners will scarcely

understand, Englishmen will smile at) since the Bull has long since

learnt to despise all such barking animals.”[399] In an age when the

amenities of literature were unknown, when Milton and Salmasius were

abusing one another with a virulence which astonishes a modern reader,

we cannot wonder at finding very bad passions manifested in the field

of theological controversy. Bull, doubtless, was a learned and pious

man, but his polemical writings show that he was deeply imbued with

the violent polemical spirit of the times; yet, violent as may be the

spirit of controversy in the modern Church, where can we find anything

so fierce, so truly savage, as Tertullian’s attack on Marcion, at the

opening of the first Book?

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--BULL.]

The _Defensio Fidei Nicenæ_ (1685) was written not to establish,

by proofs from Scripture, the doctrine of Christ’s Divinity, but to

show that the opinions of the ante-Nicene Fathers upon the subject,

were in harmony with those expressed in the Creed of the first

Œcumenical Council. This purpose Bull formed, in consequence of an

attack upon those Fathers, by the learned Jesuit Petavius, and the use

made of that attack, for ends opposed to his, by Arians and Socinians.

The most perfect success on the part of the Anglican advocate would

not, in the estimation of Divines of the Puritan school, be conclusive

evidence of our Lord’s Deity, nor would his failure shake their faith;

but the importance which he attached to the question, appears from the

immense labour which he devoted to it. To him, as an Anglo-Catholic,

the inquiry into what the early Church believed and taught appeared

one of vital interest; and into his chosen task he threw the treasures

of a vast erudition, and, if not powers of the highest order,

certainly a decisive will and an extraordinarily active and patient

inquisitiveness. Parts of his argument, it must be confessed, seem

unsatisfactory. For he deals with his patristic authorities, as we

do with the Holy Scriptures. Whilst we reasonably assume that the

latter are always consistent, and therefore endeavour to harmonize

_apparent_ discrepancies, he assumes the same with regard to the

writings of the Fathers. Hence he attempts to reconcile contradictory

passages in the same author, and also contradictory passages in

different authors. Moreover, upon a presumption of the perfect unity

of patristic opinions, and of a thoroughly logical apprehension of

subjects on the part of the Fathers, he sometimes educes proofs not

from what they plainly say in so many words, but from what their

language may be made to imply, when analyzed and manipulated with the

utmost sagacity and skill. Loyal men standing at the bar have been

unjustly arraigned for constructive treason. In controversy men of the

soundest opinion have been unrighteously charged with constructive

heresy. On the other hand, Bull’s method of criticism serves sometimes

to vindicate opinions open to suspicion, and so to throw around

doubtful points the halo of a constructive orthodoxy.[400]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--HEYLYN.]

There is a good deal of special pleading in Bull’s _Defence of the

Nicene Creed_. Nevertheless he has, in my opinion, clearly and

fully established his main point, that a belief in the Divinity of our

blessed Lord was common in the ante-Nicene Church. Bull’s views, as

they are expressed in these works, are coincident as far as they go

with those of Thorndike on the same subjects, but Bull leaves unvisited

many fields which Thorndike traversed from end to end. Before leaving

this eminent theologian it may be interesting to notice that he was

one of those who in this country, in the seventeenth century, revived

the ancient and scriptural distinction between soul and spirit; yet

he so united the Spirit of God with the spirit of man that his theory

amounts to a sort of _tetrachomy_. I may add--Hammond, in his

_Paraphrase_ (1 Thess. v. 23), and Jackson _On the Creed_,

also insisted upon a distinction between soul and spirit.[401]

Another investigator, or rather champion, more comprehensive in his

way than Bull, even going beyond Thorndike in variety of discussion,

is Peter Heylyn, inferior to them both in all respects. Educated at

Oxford, partly under a Puritan tutor, he, within three years after

his ordination as a deacon, expressed such extreme ecclesiastical

opinions, that he was denounced by Prideaux, the Regius Professor of

Divinity, as _Bellarminian_ and _Pontifician_: these very

opinions, however, recommended him to the favour of Laud, at the time

Bishop of Bath and Wells.

Heylyn, in his _Theologia Veterum_, gives what he calls “the sum

of Christian theology, positive, philological, and polemical, contained

in the Apostles’ Creed, or reducible to it.” Drawing his outline from

the Creed, which he pronounces to be written by the Apostles, and to

be all but canonical, he falls, though at a distance, into the wake

of Dean Jackson: the eloquence of that great Divine it was impossible

for Heylyn to reach; his candour and practical habit of mind, he had

no disposition to cherish. In his preface, Heylyn declares himself

an English Catholic,--keeping to the doctrines, rules, and forms of

government established in the Church of England; and beyond those

bounds, regulating “his liberty by the traditions of the Church, and

the universal consent of the ancient Fathers.” The authority of the

Church, in this writer’s opinion, includes the exposition of Scripture,

the determination of controversies and the ordering of ceremonies; and

he never misses an opportunity of upholding the rank and reputation of

the Fathers. Heretics greatly excite his wrath, yet he admits, that

neither all nor any who are merely schismatics, exclude themselves

from the Catholic pale; but, speaking of Presbyterians and Popery,

he remarks, the last is the lovelier error: better the Church be all

head, than no head at all.[402] The antiquity and importance of fasts

and festivals he strenuously maintains; the forgiveness of sin he

connects with baptism; and he advocates both confession to a priest,

and sacerdotal absolution. He is orthodox respecting the doctrines of

the Trinity and the Atonement. The article upon Christ’s descent into

hell, he discusses at length; and informs us, in his preface, that his

inquiries into this mysterious subject led him to an exposition of the

whole Creed. Pearson says cautiously that Christ’s soul “underwent the

condition of the souls of such as die, and being.[403] He died in the

similitude of a sinner, His soul went to the place where the souls of

men are kept who die for their sins, and so did wholly undergo the

law of death.” But Heylyn maintains that hell in the Creed means “the

place of torments;” and that the soul of Christ as really descended

there as His body entered the grave. The indication of these points

will suffice to show the stamp of Heylyn’s theology, and the place to

be assigned him among Anglican Divines. His talents were considerable,

his learning does him credit; but he is so full of prejudice and party

spirit that, whilst he has incurred odium from opponents, he can never

win admiration even from friends.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--TAYLOR.]

Jeremy Taylor is better known and more renowned for the rhythm of

his rhetorical diction, the exuberance and felicity of his poetical

illustrations, and the inexhaustible stores of his varied knowledge,

than for Biblical scholarship, or for the depth, wisdom, and soundness

of his theological reasonings. Yet he was a learned, painstaking, and

diligent Divine, as well as a surprisingly eloquent and persuasive

preacher: and though he has left behind him no body of divinity, there

are some points distinctive of the Anglican school which he has

treated with especial fulness; and, whilst faithful to its theology

as a whole, there are portions of it which he has handled after a

manner of his own. The influence of his patristic studies may be traced

throughout his works; and the patronage of Archbishop Laud, and his

friendship with Christopher Davenport--a learned and able Franciscan

friar--were not likely to be altogether without effect upon so

sensitive a nature as that of young Jeremy Taylor.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--TAYLOR.]

He has much to say upon baptismal regeneration. In baptism, according

to his teaching, we are admitted to the kingdom of Christ, we are

presented unto Him, we are consigned with His sacrament, and we enter

into His militia. It is also an adoption into the covenant, and a new

birth. In it, all our sins are pardoned. “The catechumen descends,”

he says,--following the words of Bede,--“into the font a sinner, he

arises purified; he goes down the son of death, he comes up the son of

the resurrection; he enters in, the son of folly and prevarication, he

returns the son of reconciliation; he stoops down the child of wrath,

and ascends the heir of mercy; he was the child of the devil, and

now he is the servant and the son of God.” Baptism not only pardons

past sins, but puts us into a state of pardon for time to come. It

is a sanctification by the spirit of grace. It is the suppletory of

original righteousness. Its effects are illumination, new life, and

a holy resurrection. In short, by baptism we are saved. After having

thus, in the most unqualified way, exhausted, one might suppose, all

which imagination could conceive of the efficacy of the rite, Taylor

says, there is less need to descend to temporal blessings, or rare

contingencies, or miraculous events, or probable notices of things

less certain; and then he speaks of miraculous cures effected by the

baptismal water, and of the appointment of an angel guardian to each

baptized person--which, indeed, he does not insist upon, although it

seems to him “hugely probable.” Resuming a poetical theology, he adds,

in patristic phraseology, that baptism is a new birth, “a chariot

carrying us to God, the great circumcision, a circumcision made without

hands, the key of the kingdom, the _paranymph_ of the kingdom,

the earnest of our inheritance, the answer of a good conscience, the

robe of light, the sacrament of a new life, and of eternal salvation,

Ἄριστον μὲν ὕδωρ.”[404] Perhaps no one ever hung so many wreaths of

flowers around the font as Taylor did; and if we were to take the

highly coloured words which he uses by themselves, we should say, that

his teaching on the subject was calculated to lull his disciples, if

they had been only baptized, into a state of most deceptive and fearful

self-security. But then, we know that other parts of his writings are

of the most pungent and heart-searching description, destructive of

all self-delusion, and, in some respects, ministering to a spirit of

bondage, rather than to a spirit of presumptuous hope. The truth is,

that much of the air of the old economy is breathed over Taylor’s

views of the new dispensation. At times it blows with a chilling

gust. We lack, in the garden of his rhetoric, the genial warmth of an

evangelical summer; and in his language respecting sacraments, he shows

a fondness for what St. Paul calls, “beggarly elements.” It should be

noticed, in connection with his doctrine of baptism, that, though, in

his _Liberty of Prophesying_, he deals gently with Anabaptists,

no one could hold more strongly than did he the doctrine of infant

baptism.

The doctrine of the Lord’s Supper is expressed in less figurative

terms, but with the same excess of description, and, as his admiring

biographer admits, with some incautiousness in the use of terms. He

says:--“The doctrine of the Church of England, and generally of the

Protestants, in this article, is,--that after the minister of the holy

mysteries hath rightly prayed, and blessed or consecrated the bread

and the wine, the symbols become changed into the body and blood of

Christ, after a sacramental, that is, in a spiritual real manner:

so that all that worthily communicate, do by faith receive Christ

really, effectually, to all the purposes of His passion: the wicked

receive not Christ, but the bare symbols only; but yet to their hurt,

because the offer of Christ is rejected, and they pollute the blood

of the covenant, by using it as an unholy thing. The result of which

doctrine is this: It is bread, and it is Christ’s body. It is bread

in substance, Christ in the sacrament; and Christ is as really given

to all that are truly disposed, as the symbols are; each as they can;

Christ as Christ can be given; the bread and wine as they can; and to

the same real purposes, to which they are designed; and Christ does as

really nourish and sanctify the soul, as the elements do the body. It

is here, as in the other sacraments: for as the natural water becomes

the laver of regeneration; so here, bread and wine become the body

and blood of Christ; but, there and here too, the first substance is

changed by grace, but remains the same in nature.”[405]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--TAYLOR.]

Taylor is one of the last men to whom we are to look for cautious

and qualified statements. He had a mind of that order which “moveth

altogether if it move at all.” He could say nothing by halves;--and,

no doubt, his glowing periods require qualification. But, when

all possible allowance has been made, the passage just quoted

conveys something which is very much like the Lutheran doctrine of

consubstantiation. Yet, strange to say, the same author, who holds that

there is a real change in the Lord’s Supper, interprets our Lord’s

words, “This is my body”--to mean no more than this: “it figuratively

represents my body:” and he denies that the passage in the sixth

chapter of John, often urged in support of the doctrine of the real

presence, has anything to do with the Lord’s Supper.[406]

In his notion of original sin, he deviates from Anglican as well

as Puritan standards. The superiority of Adam before the fall, in

Taylor’s opinion, consisted in certain superadded qualifications which

he forfeited by the first sin--and he thought that men now come into

the world, not with any evil taint or tendency, not with anything

of corruption or degeneracy, but simply without those superadded

qualifications. He says of human sinfulness, that “a great part is a

natural impotency, and the other is brought in by our own folly.” He

imputes it, in great part, to the “many _concurrent_ causes of

evil which have influence upon communities of men; such as are evil

examples, the similitude of Adam’s transgression, vices of princes,

wars, impurity, ignorance, error, false principles, flattery, interest,

fear, partiality, authority, evil laws, heresy, schism, spite and

ambition, natural inclination, and other principiant causes, which

proceeding from the natural weakness of human constitution, are the

fountain and proper causes of many consequent evils.”[407] His

doctrine has in it altogether a strong taint of Pelagianism; and what

he says of “concurrent causes,” is pronounced by Bishop Heber--a mild

critic and a moderate Divine--to be “neither good logic nor good

divinity.”

No one can be more definite and precise than Jeremy Taylor in his

doctrine of the sacraments, but he shows elsewhere a remarkable leaning

to what is general and vague. What he means exactly by original

sin--how he distinguished it from actual sin, and what effect he

believed the sin of Adam to have upon his posterity, it is difficult

to say; and the same and even greater indefiniteness is manifest in

his views of the doctrine of justification. Indeed, here he avowedly

eschews all precision of language. He differs from Thorndike and Bull,

not only in not defining justification as they do, but in not defining

it at all, and he speaks almost pettishly on the subject.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--TAYLOR.]

“That no man should fool himself by disputing about the philosophy of

justification, and what causality faith hath in it, and whether it be

the act of faith that justifies, or the habit? Whether faith as a good

work, or faith as an instrument? Whether faith as it is obedience, or

faith as it is an access to Christ? Whether as a hand or as a heart?

Whether by its own innate virtue, or by the efficacy of the object?

Whether as a sign, or as a thing signified? Whether by introduction,

or by perfection? Whether in the first beginnings, or in its last and

best productions? Whether by inherent worthiness, or adventitious

imputations? _Uberiùs ista quæso_ (that I may use the words of

Cicero): _hæc enim spinosiora, prius, ut confitear me cogunt, quam ut

assentiar_: these things are knotty, and too intricate to do any

good; they may amuse us, but never instruct us; and they have already

made men careless and confident, disputative and troublesome, proud and

uncharitable, but neither wiser nor better. Let us, therefore, leave

these weak ways of troubling ourselves or others, and directly look to

the theology of it, the direct duty, the end of faith, and the work of

faith, the conditions and the instruments of our salvation, the just

foundation of our hopes, how our faith can destroy our sin, and how it

can unite us unto God, how by it we can be made partakers of Christ’s

death, and imitators of His life. For since it is evident, by the

premises, that this article is not to be determined or relied upon by

arguing from words of many significations, we must walk by a clearer

light; by such plain sayings and dogmatical propositions of Scripture,

which evidently teach us our duty, and place our hopes upon that

which cannot deceive us, that is, which require obedience, which call

upon us to glorify God, and to do good to men, and to keep all God’s

commandments with diligence and sincerity.”[408]

This kind of teaching cuts away the ground entirely from under

scientific theology, treating it as a work of supererogation, or

as an utter impossibility, and at the same time reducing religion

to the observance of certain commands. Yet this passionate protest

against dogma has hardly escaped the writer’s pen, when he proceeds

to construct that against which he protests, and lays down logically,

“two propositions, a negative and an affirmative.” The negative is: By

faith only a man is not justified; the affirmative, By works also a man

is justified. He says “that obedience is the same thing with faith,

and that all Christian graces are parts of its bulk and constitution,

is also the doctrine of the Holy Ghost, and the grammar of Scripture,

making faith and obedience to be terms coincident, and expressive of

each other.”[409]

Having expressed this theological idea in a double form, he immediately

abandons the theological element; and proceeds to declaim, with his

accustomed vigour and variety, upon the common truth, which all

Divines, Calvinist and Arminian, maintain--that no man enjoys the

blessing of justification, apart from a life of Christian obedience.

After a careful perusal of the whole discourse, the reader feels that

the theological question of justification by faith, or by works, or by

both, has really not been touched by the author, although much that

is of practical value has been said on the necessity of holiness.

The essential defect of the treatment is an omission to explain what

justification means; hence the loose and ambiguous employment of the

term throughout, and its application most frequently to the idea of

salvation as a whole. In one place, after having repeatedly used

the two words, as bearing different significations, Taylor says:

“So that now we see that justification and sanctification cannot be

distinguished, but as words of art, signifying the various steps of

progression in the same course: they may be distinguished in notion and

speculation, but never when they are to pass on to material events, for

no man is justified but he that is also sanctified.”[410] It is very

noticeable, by a critical reader who will take the trouble to analyze

Taylor’s sentences, how much he is in the habit of playing fast and

loose with the meaning of words.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--TAYLOR.]

The same habit of thought--avoiding and even protesting against

definite statements of certain doctrines--appears in the _Liberty of

Prophesying_ and in the _Nature of Faith_. The duty of faith,

he remarks, is complete in believing the Articles of the Apostles’

Creed,--“All other things are implicitly in the belief of the Articles

of God’s veracity, and are not necessary in respect of the constitution

of faith to be drawn out, but may there lie in the bowels of the great

Articles, without danger to any thing or any person, unless some other

accident or circumstance makes them necessary.”[411] “This is the great

and entire complexion of a Christian’s faith, and since salvation is

promised to the belief of this creed [I believe that Jesus Christ

is the Son of God] either a snare is laid for us with a purpose to

deceive us--or else nothing is of prime and original necessity to be

believed but this Jesus Christ our Redeemer.”[412] Bearing in mind the

distinction between religion and theology;--and it is to the former

that Taylor seems to refer in his treatise on Faith,--the doctrine,

in substance, may be accepted as sound. But turning to the _Liberty

of Prophesying_ where also the standard raised is the Apostles’

Creed, the question, as his biographer remarks, “becomes much more

difficult, if, as Taylor seems to have meant, and as is implied in

the very title of his discourse, we extend this same principle to

the admission of persons into the public ministry.”[413] In other

words, to treat Theology, which ought to be thoroughly understood by

Christian teachers, as if it were entirely comprehended within the

first simple primitive creed,--as if that creed, regarded as seminally

containing all Christian doctrine, and as actually drawn out by the

study of Scripture, and devout reflection into theological particulars,

were a sufficient standard of orthodoxy for those who are teachers

of others,--betrays a manner of thinking in which scarcely a second

Anglican teacher could be found to agree. There and elsewhere the

Bishop would seem to have found his way within Latitudinarian lines.

Taylor is a strenuous advocate for an Episcopal Church--yet even here

he breaks bounds, and has exposed himself to the correction, if not

the censure, of Episcopalian critics. Departing from Hooker’s method

in his _Ecclesiastical Polity_, he endorses the Puritan idea,

that a precise form of government is laid down in Scripture; and

then he proceeds to say, that “the government of the Church is in

_immediate_ order to the good and benison of souls.” The first of

these peculiar opinions, his biographer pronounces unwise, the second

untrue, and both as going too far,--the one as proving too much, the

other as an exaggerated conception of what is not to be ranked amongst

things of the first importance,--for the sincere word and the means of

grace are alone _immediately_ necessary to salvation.[414] Mere

government, according to Hooker, rests amongst the non-essentials of

Christianity; and any change therein is to change the way of safety,

no otherwise than as “a path is changed by altering only the uppermost

face thereof, which, be it laid with gravel, or set with grass, or

paved with stone, remaineth still the same path.”[415] A further

example of running to an extreme of strictness in reference to Church

polity, after so much latitude, and even looseness in relation to

Christian doctrine, is found in Taylor’s assumption of facts touching

Episcopal orders. It is an assumption, says Heber, “in which he is

neither borne out by antiquity, nor the tenor of the Gospel history,

when he finds in the Apostles, during the abode of their Lord on earth,

the first Bishops, and in the seventy-two disciples, whom Christ also

selected from His followers, the first presbyters of His Church.”[416]

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--COSIN.]

Amongst Anglican theologians Cosin requires particular attention.

The history of his opinions is somewhat peculiar. In early life, his

sermons, and especially his devotional writings, betray a strong

leaning towards Roman Catholicism. In later life it is otherwise.

His second series of _Notes on the Prayer Book_, indicates a

controversial tone opposing the Anglican to the Roman view, which

does not appear in the first series. After his son became a Papist,

the father assumed a more decided attitude towards the Papal Church;

but it does not so much appear that Cosin’s own views of doctrine

altered, as that, during the earlier part of his life, he dwelt on

points of agreement, and during the latter, on points of difference,

between himself and Rome.[417] Every one, however, must see that such

a change was a very great one, and involved much more than at first

sight is visible. Cosin’s two principal contributions to theological

literature are his _Scholastic History of the Canon of the Holy

Scriptures_ and his _History of Transubstantiation_. The

former, which is a work of very great learning and ability is directed

entirely against the decisions of the Council of Trent, as to the

canonicity of Apocryphal Books; and the author patiently goes over

the whole field of Church literature, from the Apostolic age to the

Reformation, showing that the books in question were never accepted by

the Church, as inspired authorities. The stores of learning displayed

in this history are of great value to the general student; and in any

revival of this old controversy with Romanist theologians, Cosin’s work

will be of eminent service on the Protestant side. The _History of

the Canon_ appeared in 1657, during Cosin’s exile. The _History

of Transubstantiation_ was, about the same time, written in Latin,

although not published until 1675. A year afterwards, an English

translation came out, executed by Luke de Beaulieu. The origin of the

book is a key to its character. When Charles II., in his wanderings,

reached Cologne, and there “visited a neighbouring potent prince of

the Empire of the Roman persuasion,” he met with certain Jesuits, who

accused the English Church of heretical opinions touching the sacrament

of the Lord’s Supper. That Church, said they, “holds no real, but

only a kind of imaginary presence of the body and blood of Christ;”

whereas Rome holds the sacred mystery of all ages,--to wit, that the

whole substance of the bread and wine is changed into the substance of

Christ’s body and blood. Cosin, being asked to vindicate the Church

“from the calumny,” and plainly to declare what is her doctrine of

the real presence, complied with the request; and the result is, that

throughout his book, he labours to establish the doctrine of a _real

presence_ of the body and blood of the Redeemer in the bread and

wine;--but at the same time, denies and demolishes the doctrine of a

_transubstantiation_ of the elements. As to the latter point, what

he says resolves itself into an argument for the continued presence,

not merely of the material _accidents_, but of the material

_substance_. The bent of the author’s mind, and the necessary

conditions of the author’s argument, looked at from the Anglican point

of view, may be seen in his copious citations from the Fathers and

schoolmen; and the purpose of those citations is to show that the

_real_ presence, as he expresses it, is the ancient doctrine of

Christendom; and that the dogma of Transubstantiation is an invention

of the twelfth century. Theologians of the Puritan stamp, if disposed

to avail themselves of the distinctive reasoning of this distinguished

scholar against Rome, would not follow the patristic and scholastic

teaching on its positive side, to which he showed so much deference;

but would rather represent very much of it--by its incautious

phraseology, and its mystic sentiment--as preparing for the definite

error which Cosin so earnestly denounced. Some of them would say,

that the extreme doctrine of the spiritual presence of the body and

blood of Christ in the bread and wine is as mischievous, in respect to

superstition, as the doctrine of Transubstantiation itself. They would

also say that Anglicans attach an undue importance to the continued

existence and _presence_ of the material substance of bread and

wine, an importance which is scarcely perceptible to others who differ

from them; for if the bodily presence of Christ in the sacrament be

admitted, arguments in support of the continued substantial presence

of bread and wine as well, only issue in some consubstantial theory,

between which and the transubstantial one, there is little to choose,

in the estimation of most English Protestants. And further, they would

allege that whilst the Roman dogma is in itself incredible and absurd,

it is in its terms intelligible; but that the High Anglican dogma is

unintelligible in terms and incredible in itself, so far as its import

can be divined. To the Puritan mind, the distinction maintained by

Cosin and others between a real presence and a transubstantiation is

of little importance, and quite incomprehensible; but to the Anglican

mind, it is perfectly clear, and of the highest moment.[418] That I

distinctly perceive. Without entering into the controversy, I may be

allowed to add, that the belief of the spiritual presence of Christ’s

body in the elements is one thing, and the deep and devout belief of

a real and a special presence of Christ Himself with His people in

the Lord’s Supper, is another. There is nothing whatever to prevent

a modern disciple of the Puritans from consistently maintaining

the latter. For my own part, I would maintain it with the utmost

earnestness.

[Sidenote: ANGLICANS.--MORLEY.]

Next to Cosin let us take Morley. Morley lived to a great age, and

had a high reputation for theological learning before the Civil Wars,

as well as after the re-establishment of Episcopacy, being well

versed in the logic of the schools, and proving himself a formidable

controversialist. That he was a Calvinist is distinctly stated by

Wood and Burnet; but I cannot find that he published anything upon

the subject. Besides his controversy with Baxter, which turns upon

political and ecclesiastical questions, we possess certain treatises

written by him before and since the Restoration, in which he undertakes

fully to make known his judgment concerning the Church of Rome, and

most of those doctrines which fall into controversy betwixt her and

the Church of England. The reader is disappointed to find, that

these Treatises consist only of _A short Conference with a Jesuit

at Brussels_; An Argument against Transubstantiation; A Sermon

preached at Whitehall; Correspondence with Father Cressey; A Letter

to the Duchess of York; and two Latin Epistles, relating to Prayers

for the Dead, and the Invocation of Saints. Three points alone in the

Romanist controversy are discussed. The treatment of these, however,

indicate deep learning and great skill. Morley plies with much success

the argument against Transubstantiation, “drawn from the evidence and

certainty of sense,”--maintaining his convincing argument with the

dexterity of a practised logician, so as to parry most successfully all

the objections of Roman Catholic antagonists. He decidedly opposes the

Popish doctrine of purgatory,--but he vindicates prayers for the dead,

in the way in which they were offered in the early Church, and as by

modern Anglicans they are still encouraged to be offered; that is, for

the rest of the soul, the resurrection of the body, and the plenitude

of redemption at the last day.[419] Whatever may be the propriety of

praying for the dead in such a qualified sense as this, Morley contends

that there is no ground on which to rest the doctrine of the Invocation

of Saints. That doctrine he overthrows by an appeal to Scripture; and

then he proceeds, after the Anglican method, to examine the writings of

the Fathers, and to show that they do not justify the Popish dogma and

its associated practices.

The writings of so eminent a man as Archbishop Bramhall ought not to

be wholly passed over, even in this limited and superficial sketch. He

did not write any comprehensive treatise on theology in general, or on

any doctrine in particular; but whilst the other Divines named, with

one exception, guarded what they believed to be the citadel of truth,

this learned prelate of Ireland defended what he regarded as some

of the outworks of Anglican Christianity. He strove, in his _Just

Vindication of the Church of England_ (1654), to repel the charge

of schism, alleged by the Romanists; and, in his _Consecration and

Succession of Protestant Bishops_, to rebut the Nag’s Head fable

(1658). So far his battle was with Rome. He dealt blows of another

kind in his treatises “Against the English Sectarie” (1643–1672), and

included within his polemical tasks a “Defence of true liberty from

antecedent and extrinsical necessity” (1655); “Castigations of Mr.

Hobbes’ Animadversions” (1658); and “The Catching of Leviathan or the

Great Whale” (1653). In the quaint pleasantry of the age, he spoke of

using three harping irons, one for its heart, a second for its chine,

and a third for its head,--meaning by these images, the religious,

political, and rational aspects of the work. He further described this

monster as neither fish nor flesh, but the combination of a man, with

a whale--“not unlike Dagon, the idol of the Philistines.”[420] The

Malmsbury philosopher was reckoned the most dangerous enemy of the

day to the true interests of the Christian religion, and Bramhall, in

writing against him, acted the part of one anxious to expose a covert

and to crush a seminal infidelity.