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About seventy years after this alarm had passed away, there happened another circumstance, which for a time afforded occupation to the most celebrated men in one of the principal countries of Europe. At the end of the sixteenth century, terrible excitement was caused by a report that a golden tooth had appeared in the jaw of a child born in Silesia. The rumour, on being investigated, turned out to be too true. It became impossible to conceal it from the public; and the miracle was soon known all over Germany, where, being looked on as a mysterious omen, universal anxiety was felt as to what this new thing might mean. Its real import was first unfolded by Dr. Horst. In 1595, this eminent physician published the result of his researches, by which it appears that, at the birth of the child, the sun was in conjunction with Saturn, at the sign Aries. The event, therefore, though supernatural, was by no means alarming. The golden tooth was the precursor of a golden age, in which the emperor would drive the Turks from Christendom, and lay the foundations of an empire that would last for thousands of years. And this, says Horst, is clearly alluded to by Daniel, in his well-known second chapter, where the prophet speaks of a statue with a golden head.⁵⁵⁰

CHAPTER VII
OUTLINE OF THE HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH INTELLECT FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE SIXTEENTH TO THE END OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

It is difficult for an ordinary reader, living in the middle of the nineteenth century, to understand, that only three hundred years before he was born, the public mind was in the benighted state disclosed in the preceding chapter. It is still more difficult for him to understand that the darkness was shared not merely by men of an average education, but by men of considerable ability, men in every respect among the foremost of their age. A reader of this sort may satisfy himself that the evidence is indisputable; he may verify the statements I have brought forward, and admit that there is no possible doubt about them; but even then he will find it hard to conceive that there ever was a state of society in which such miserable absurdities were welcomed as sober and important truths, and were supposed to form an essential part of the general stock of European knowledge.

But a more careful examination will do much to dissipate this natural astonishment. In point of fact, so far from wondering that such things were believed, the wonder would have been if they were rejected. For in those times, as in all others, every thing was of a piece. Not only in historical literature, but in all kinds of literature, on every subject – in science, in religion, in legislation – the presiding principle was a blind and unhesitating credulity. The more the history of Europe anterior to the seventeenth century is studied, the more completely will this fact be verified. Now and then a great man arose, who had his doubts respecting the universal belief; who whispered a suspicion as to the existence of giants thirty feet high, of dragons with wings, and of armies flying through the air; who thought that astrology might be a cheat, and necromancy a bubble; and who even went so far as to raise a question respecting the propriety of drowning every witch and burning every heretic. A few such men there undoubtedly were; but they were despised as mere theorists, idle visionaries, who, unacquainted with the practice of life, arrogantly opposed their own reason to the wisdom of their ancestors. In the state of society in which they were born, it was impossible that they should make any permanent impression. Indeed, they had enough to do to look to themselves, and provide for their own security; for, until the latter part of the sixteenth century, there was no country in which a man was not in great personal peril if he expressed open doubts respecting the belief of his contemporaries.

Yet it is evident, that until doubt began, progress was impossible. For, as we have clearly seen, the advance of civilization solely depends on the acquisitions made by the human intellect, and on the extent to which those acquisitions are diffused. But men who are perfectly satisfied with their own knowledge, will never attempt to increase it. Men who are perfectly convinced of the accuracy of their opinions, will never take the pains of examining the basis on which they are built. They look always with wonder, and often with horror, on views contrary to those which they inherited from their fathers; and while they are in this state of mind, it is impossible that they should receive any new truth which interferes with their foregone conclusions.

On this account it is, that although the acquisition of fresh knowledge is the necessary precursor of every step in social progress, such acquisition must itself be preceded by a love of inquiry, and therefore by a spirit of doubt; because without doubt there will be no inquiry, and without inquiry there will be no knowledge. For knowledge is not an inert and passive principle, which comes to us whether we will or no; but it must be sought before it can be won; it is the product of great labour and therefore of great sacrifice. And it is absurd to suppose that men will incur the labour, and make the sacrifice, for subjects respecting which they are already perfectly content. They who do not feel the darkness, will never look for the light. If on any point we have attained to certainty, we make no further inquiry on that point; because inquiry would be useless, or perhaps dangerous. The doubt must intervene, before the investigation can begin. Here, then, we have the act of doubting as the originator, or, at all events, the necessary antecedent, of all progress. Here we have that scepticism, the very name of which is an abomination to the ignorant; because it disturbs their lazy and complacent minds; because it troubles their cherished superstitions; because it imposes on them the fatigue of inquiry; and because it rouses even sluggish understandings to ask if things are as they are commonly supposed, and if all is really true which they from their childhood have been taught to believe.

The more we examine this great principle of scepticism, the more distinctly shall we see the immense part it has played in the progress of European civilization. To state in general terms, what in this Introduction will be fully proved, it may be said, that to scepticism we owe that spirit of inquiry, which, during the last two centuries, has gradually encroached on every possible subject; has reformed every department of practical and speculative knowledge; has weakened the authority of the privileged classes, and thus placed liberty on a surer foundation; has chastized the despotism of princes; has restrained the arrogance of the nobles; and has even diminished the prejudices of the clergy. In a word, it is this which has remedied the three fundamental errors of the olden time: errors which made the people, in politics too confiding; in science too credulous; in religion too intolerant.

This rapid summary of what has actually been effected, may perhaps startle those readers to whom such large investigations are not familiar. The importance, however, of the principle at issue is so great, that I purpose in this Introduction to verify it by an examination of all the prominent forms of European civilization. Such an inquiry will lead to the remarkable conclusion, that no single fact has so extensively affected the different nations as the duration, the amount, and above all the diffusion, of their scepticism. In Spain, the church, aided by the Inquisition, has always been strong enough to punish sceptical writers, and prevent, not indeed the existence, but the promulgation of sceptical opinions.⁵⁵¹ By this means the spirit of doubt being quenched, knowledge has for several centuries remained almost stationary; and civilization, which is the fruit of knowledge, has also been stationary. But in England and France, which, as we shall presently see, are the countries where scepticism first openly appeared, and where it has been most diffused, the results are altogether different; and the love of inquiry being encouraged, there has arisen that constantly-progressive knowledge to which these two great nations owe their prosperity. In the remaining part of this volume, I shall trace the history of this principle in France and England, and examine the different forms under which it has appeared, and the way in which those forms have affected the national interests. In the order of the investigation, I shall give the precedence to England; because, for the reasons already stated, its civilization must be deemed more normal than that of France; and therefore, notwithstanding its numerous deficiencies, it approaches the natural type more closely than its great neighbour has been able to do. But as the fullest details respecting English civilization will be found in the body of the present work, I intend in the Introduction to devote merely a single chapter to it, and to consider our national history simply in reference to the immediate consequences of the sceptical movement; reserving for a future occasion those subsidiary matters which, though less comprehensive, are still of great value. And as the growth of religious toleration is undoubtedly the most important of all, I will, in the first place, state the circumstances under which it appeared in England in the sixteenth century; and I will then point out how other events, which immediately followed, were part of the same progress, and were indeed merely the same principles acting in different directions.

A careful study of the history of religious toleration will prove, that in every Christian country where it has been adopted, it has been forced upon the clergy by the authority of the secular classes.⁵⁵² At the present day, it is still unknown to those nations among whom the ecclesiastical power is stronger than the temporal power; and as this, during many centuries, was the general condition, it is not wonderful that, in the early history of Europe, we should find scarcely a trace of so wise and benevolent an opinion. But at the moment when Elizabeth mounted the throne of England, our country was about equally divided between two hostile creeds; and the queen, with remarkable ability, contrived during some time so to balance the rival powers, as to allow to neither a decisive preponderance. This was the first instance which had been seen in Europe of a government successfully carried on without the active participation of the spiritual authority; and the consequence was, that for several years the principle of toleration, though still most imperfectly understood, was pushed to an extent which is truly surprising for so barbarous an age.⁵⁵³ Unhappily, after a time, various circumstances, which I shall relate in their proper place, induced Elizabeth to change a policy which she, even with all her wisdom, perhaps considered to be a dangerous experiment, and for which the knowledge of the country was as yet hardly ripe. But although she now allowed the Protestants to gratify their hatred against the Catholics, there was, in the midst of the sanguinary scenes which followed, one circumstance very worthy of remark. Although many persons were most unquestionably executed merely for their religion, no one ventured to state their religion as the cause of their execution.⁵⁵⁴ The most barbarous punishments were inflicted upon them; but they were told that they might escape the punishment by renouncing certain principles which were said to be injurious to the safety of the state.⁵⁵⁵ It is true, that many of these principles were such as no Catholic could abandon without at the same time abandoning his religion, of which they formed an essential part. But the mere fact that the spirit of persecution was driven to such a subterfuge, showed that a great progress had been made by the age. A most important point, indeed, was gained when the bigot became a hypocrite; and when the clergy, though willing to burn men for the good of their souls, were obliged to justify their cruelty by alleging considerations of a more temporal, and, as they considered, a less important character.⁵⁵⁶

A remarkable evidence of the change that was then taking place, is found in the two most important theological works which appeared in England during the reign of Elizabeth. Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity was published at the end of the sixteenth century,⁵⁵⁷ and is still considered one of the greatest bulwarks of our national church. If we compare this work with Jewel's Apology for the Church of England, which was written thirty years before it,⁵⁵⁸ we shall at once be struck by the different methods these eminent writers employed. Both Hooker and Jewel were men of learning and genius. Both of them were familiar with the Bible, the Fathers, and the Councils. Both of them wrote with the avowed object of defending the Church of England; and both of them were well acquainted with the ordinary weapons of theological controversy. But here the resemblance stops. The men were very similar; their works are entirely different. During the thirty years which had elapsed, the English intellect had made immense progress; and the arguments which in the time of Jewel were found perfectly satisfactory, would not have been listened to in the time of Hooker. The work of Jewel is full of quotations from the Fathers and the Councils, whose mere assertions, when they are uncontradicted by Scripture, he seems to regard as positive proofs. Hooker, though he shows much respect to the Councils, lays little stress upon the Fathers, and evidently considered that his readers would not pay much attention to their unsupported opinions. Jewel inculcates the importance of faith; Hooker insists upon the exercise of reason.⁵⁵⁹ The first employs all his talents in collecting the decisions of antiquity, and in deciding upon the meaning which they may be supposed to bear. The other quotes the ancients, not so much from respect for their authority, as with the view of illustrating his own arguments. Thus, for instance, both Hooker and Jewel assert the undoubted right of the sovereign to interfere in ecclesiastical affairs. Jewel, however, fancied that he had proved the right, when he had pointed out that it was exercised by Moses, by Joshua, by David, and by Solomon.⁵⁶⁰ On the other hand, Hooker lays down that this right exists, not because it is ancient, but because it is advisable; and because it is unjust to suppose that men who are not ecclesiastics will consent to be bound by laws which ecclesiastics alone have framed.⁵⁶¹ In the same opposite spirit do these great writers conduct their defence of their own church. Jewel, like all the authors of his time, had exercised his memory more than his reason; and he thinks to settle the whole dispute by crowding together texts from the Bible, with the opinions of the commentators upon them.⁵⁶² But Hooker, who lived in the age of Shakespeare and Bacon, found himself constrained to take views of a far more comprehensive character. His defence rests neither upon tradition nor upon commentators, nor ever upon revelation; but he is content that the pretensions of the hostile parties shall be decided by their applicability to the great exigencies of society, and by the ease with which they adapt themselves to the general purposes of ordinary life.⁵⁶³

It requires but little penetration to see the immense importance of the change which these two great works represent. As long as an opinion in theology was defended by the old dogmatic method, it was impossible to assail it without incurring the imputation of heresy. But when it was chiefly defended by human reasoning, its support was seriously weakened. For by this means the element of uncertainty was let in. It might be alleged, that the arguments of one sect are as good as those of another; and that we cannot be sure of the truth of our principles, until we have heard what is to be said on the opposite side. According to the old theological theory, it was easy to justify the most barbarous persecution. If a man knew that the only true religion was the one which he professed, and if he also knew that those who died in a contrary opinion were doomed to everlasting perdition – if he knew these things beyond the remotest possibility of a doubt, he might fairly argue, that it is merciful to punish the body in order to save the soul, and secure to immortal beings their future salvation, even though he employed so sharp a remedy as the halter or the stake.⁵⁶⁴ But if this same man is taught to think that questions of religion are to be settled by reason as well as by faith, he can scarcely avoid the reflection, that the reason even of the strongest minds is not infallible, since it has led the ablest men to the most opposite conclusions. When this idea is once diffused among a people, it cannot fail to influence their conduct. No one of common sense and common honesty will dare to levy upon another, on account of his religion, the extreme penalty of the law, when he knows it possible that his own opinions may be wrong, and that those of the man he has punished may be right. From the moment when questions of religion begin to evade the jurisdiction of faith, and submit to the jurisdiction of reason, persecution becomes a crime of the deepest dye. Thus it was in England in the seventeenth century. As theology became more reasonable, it became less confident, and therefore more merciful. Seventeen years after the publication of the great work of Hooker, two men were publicly burned by the English bishops, for holding heretical opinions.⁵⁶⁵ But this was the last gasp of expiring bigotry; and since that memorable day, the soil of England has never been stained by the blood of a man who has suffered for his religious creed.⁵⁶⁶

We have thus seen the rise of that scepticism which in physics must always be the beginning of science, and in religion must always be the beginning of toleration. There is, indeed, no doubt that in both cases individual thinkers may, by a great effort of original genius, emancipate themselves from the operation of this law. But in the progress of nations no such emancipation is possible. As long as men refer the movements of the comets to the immediate finger of God, and as long as they believe that an eclipse is one of the modes by which the Deity expresses his anger, they will never be guilty of the blasphemous presumption of attempting to predict such supernatural appearances. Before they could dare to investigate the causes of these mysterious phenomena, it is necessary that they should believe, or at all events that they should suspect, that the phenomena themselves were capable of being explained by the human mind. In the same way, until men are content in some degree to bring their religion before the bar of their own reason, they never can understand how it is that there should be a diversity of creeds, or how any one can differ from themselves without being guilty of the most enormous and unpardonable crime.⁵⁶⁷

If we now continue to trace the progress of opinions in England, we shall see the full force of these remarks. A general spirit of inquiry, of doubt, and even of insubordination, began to occupy the minds of men. In physics, it enabled them, almost at a blow, to throw off the shackles of antiquity, and give birth to sciences founded not on notions of old, but on individual observations and individual experiments.⁵⁶⁸ In politics, it stimulated them to rise against the government, and eventually bring their king to the scaffold. In religion, it vented itself in a thousand sects, each of which proclaimed, and often exaggerated, the efficiency of private judgment.⁵⁶⁹ The details of this vast movement form one of the most interesting parts of the history of England: but without anticipating what I must hereafter relate, I will at present mention only one instance, which, from the circumstances attending it, is very characteristic of the age. The celebrated work by Chillingworth on the Religion of Protestants, is generally admitted to be the best defence which the Reformers have been able to make against the Church of Rome.⁵⁷⁰ It was published in 1637,⁵⁷¹ and the position of the author would induce us to look for the fullest display of bigotry that was consistent with the spirit of his time. Chillingworth had recently abandoned the creed which he now came forward to attack; and he, therefore, might be expected to have that natural inclination to dogmatize with which apostasy is usually accompanied. Besides this, he was the godson and the intimate friend of Laud,⁵⁷² whose memory is still loathed, as the meanest, the most cruel, and the most narrowminded man who ever sat on the episcopal bench.⁵⁷³ He was, moreover, a fellow of Oxford, and was a constant resident at that ancient university, which has always been esteemed as the refuge of superstition, and which has preserved to our own day its unenviable fame.⁵⁷⁴ If now we turn to the work that was written under these auspices, we can scarcely believe that it was produced in the same generation, and in the same country, where, only twenty-six years before, two men had been publicly burned because they advocated opinions different to those of the established church. It is, indeed, a most remarkable proof of the prodigious energy of that great movement which was now going on, that its pressure should be felt under circumstances the most hostile to it which can possibly be conceived; and that a friend of Laud, and a fellow of Oxford, should, in a grave theological treatise, lay down principles utterly subversive of that theological spirit which for many centuries had enslaved the whole of Europe.

In this great work, all authority in matters of religion is openly set at defiance. Hooker, indeed, had appealed from the jurisdiction of the Fathers to the jurisdiction of reason; he had, however, been careful to add, that the reason of individuals ought to bow before that of the church, as we find it expressed in great Councils, and in the general voice of ecclesiastical tradition.⁵⁷⁵ But Chillingworth would hear of none of these things. He would admit of no reservations which tended to limit the sacred right of private judgment. He not only went far beyond Hooker in neglecting the Fathers,⁵⁷⁶ but he even ventured to despise the Councils. Although the sole object of his work was to decide on the conflicting claims of the two greatest sects into which the Christian Church has broken, he never quotes as authorities the Councils of that very church respecting which the disputes were agitated.⁵⁷⁷ His strong and subtle intellect, penetrating the depths of the subject, despised that sort of controversy which had long busied the minds of men. In discussing the points upon which the Catholics and Protestants were at issue, he does not inquire whether the doctrines in question met the approval of the early church, but he asks if they are in accordance with human reason; and he does not hesitate to say that, however true they may be, no man is bound to believe them if he finds that they are repugnant to the dictates of his own understanding. Nor will he consent that faith should supply the absence of authority. Even this favourite principle of theologians is by Chillingworth made to yield to the supremacy of the human reason.⁵⁷⁸ Reason, he says, gives us knowledge; while faith only gives us belief, which is a part of knowledge, and is, therefore, inferior to it. It is by reason, and not by faith, that we must discriminate in religious matters; and it is by reason alone that we can distinguish truth from falsehood. Finally, he solemnly reminds his readers, that in religious matters no one ought to be expected to draw strong conclusions from imperfect premises, or to credit improbable statements upon scanty evidence; still less, he says, was it ever intended that men should so prostitute their reason, as to believe with infallible faith that which they are unable to prove with infallible arguments.⁵⁷⁹

No one of ordinary reflection can fail to perceive the manifest tendency of these opinions. But what is more important to observe is, the process through which, in the march of civilization, the human mind had been obliged to pass before it could reach such elevated views. The Reformation, by destroying the dogma of an infallible church, had of course weakened the reverence which was paid to ecclesiastical antiquity. Still, such was the force of old associations, that our countrymen long continued to respect what they had ceased to venerate. Thus it was, that Jewel, though recognizing the supreme authority of the Bible, had, in cases where it was silent or ambiguous, anxiously appealed to the early church, by whose decision he supposed all difficulties could be easily cleared. He, therefore, only used his reason to ascertain the discrepancies which existed between Scripture and tradition; but when they did not clash, he paid what is now considered a superstitious deference to antiquity. Thirty years after him came Hooker;⁵⁸⁰ who made a step in advance, and laying down principles from which Jewel would have shrunk with fear, did much to weaken that which it was reserved for Chillingworth utterly to destroy. Thus it is, that these three great men represent the three distinct epochs of the three successive generations in which they respectively lived. In Jewel, reason is, if I may so say, the superstructure of the system; but authority is the basis upon which the superstructure is built. In Hooker, authority is only the superstructure, and reason is the basis.⁵⁸¹ But in Chillingworth, whose writings were harbingers of the coming storm, authority entirely disappears, and the whole fabric of religion is made to rest upon the way in which the unaided reason of man shall interpret the decrees of an omnipotent God.

The immense success of this great work of Chillingworth, must have aided that movement of which it is itself an evidence.⁵⁸² It formed a decisive vindication of religious dissent;⁵⁸³ and thus justified the breaking up of the Anglican church, which the same generation lived to witness. Its fundamental principle was adopted by the most influential writers of the seventeenth century, – such as Hales, Owen, Taylor, Burnet, Tillotson, Locke, and even the cautious and time-serving Temple; all of whom insisted upon the authority of private judgment, as forming a tribunal from which no one had the power of appeal. The inference to be drawn from this seems obvious.⁵⁸⁴ If the ultimate test of truth is individual judgment, and if no one can affirm that the judgments of men, which are often contradictory, can ever be infallible, it follows of necessity that there is no decisive criterion of religious truth. This is a melancholy, and, as I firmly believe, a most inaccurate conclusion; but it is one which every nation must entertain, before it can achieve that great work of toleration, which, even in our own country, and in our own time, is not yet consummated. It is necessary that men should learn to doubt, before they begin to tolerate; and that they should recognize the fallibility of their own opinions, before they respect the opinions of their opponents.⁵⁸⁵ This great process is far from being yet completed in any country; and the European mind, barely emerged from its early credulity, and from an overweening confidence in its own belief, is still in a middle, and, so to say, a probationary stage. When that stage shall be finally passed, when we shall have learned to estimate men solely by their character and their acts, and not at all by their theological dogmas, we shall then be able to form our religious opinions by that purely transcendental process, of which in every age glimpses have been granted to a few gifted minds. That this is the direction in which things are now hastening, must be clear to every one who has studied the progress of modern civilization. Within the short space of three centuries, the old theological spirit has been compelled, not only to descend from its long-established supremacy, but to abandon those strongholds to which, in the face of advancing knowledge, it has vainly attempted to secure a retreat. All its most cherished pretensions it has been forced gradually to relinquish.⁵⁸⁶ And although in England a temporary prominence has recently been given to certain religious controversies, still the circumstances attending them show the alteration in the character of the age. Disputes which, a century ago, would have set the whole kingdom in a flame, are now regarded with indifference by the vast majority of educated men. The complications of modern society, and the immense variety of interests into which it is divided, have done much to distract the intellect, and to prevent it from dwelling upon subjects which a less-occupied people would deem of paramount importance. Besides this, the accumulations of science are far superior to those of any former age, and offer suggestions of such surpassing interest, that nearly all our greatest thinkers devote to them the whole of their time, and refuse to busy themselves with matters of mere speculative belief. The consequence is, that what used to be considered the most important of all questions, is now abandoned to inferior men, who mimic the zeal, without possessing the influence of those really great divines whose works are among the glories of our early literature. These turbulent polemics have, indeed, distracted the church by their clamour, but they have not made the slightest impression upon the great body of English intellect; and an overwhelming majority of the nation is notoriously opposed to that monastic and ascetic religion which it is now vainly attempted to reconstruct. The truth is, that the time for these things has gone by. Theological interests have long ceased to be supreme; and the affairs of nations are no longer regulated according to ecclesiastical views.⁵⁸⁷ In England, where the march has been more rapid than elsewhere, this change is very observable. In every other department we have had a series of great and powerful thinkers, who have done honour to their country, and have won the admiration of mankind. But for more than a century, we have not produced a single original work in the whole field of controversial theology. For more than a century, the apathy on this subject has been so marked, that there has been made no addition of value to that immense mass of divinity which, among thinking men, is in every successive generation losing something of its former interest.⁵⁸⁸

550.This history of the golden tooth is partly related by De Thou: see his Hist. Univ. vol. xi. pp. 634, 635. And on the controversy to which it gave rise, compare Hist. des Oracles, chap. iv., in Œuvres de Fontenelle, vol. ii. pp. 219, 220, ed. Paris, 1766; Sprengel, Hist. de la Médecine, vol. iii. pp. 247–249; Biog. Univ., vol. xx. p. 579.

551.On the influence of the French literature, which, late in the eighteenth century, crept into Spain in spite of the church, and diffused a considerable amount of scepticism among the most educated classes, compare Llorente, Hist. de l'Inquisition, vol. i. p. 322, vol. ii. p. 543, vol. iv. pp. 98, 99, 102, 148; Doblado's Letters from Spain, pp. 115, 119, 120, 133, 231, 232; Lord Holland's Foreign Reminiscences, edit. 1850, p. 76; Southey's Hist. of Brazil, vol. iii. p. 607; and an imperfect statement of the same fact in Alison's Hist. of Europe, vol. x. p. 8. In regard to the Spanish colonies, compare Humboldt, Nouv. Espagne, vol. ii. p. 818, with Ward's Mexico, vol. i. p. 83.

552.Nearly two hundred years ago, Sir William Temple observed that in Holland the clergy possessed less power than in other countries; and that, therefore, there existed an unusual amount of toleration. Observations upon the United Provinces, in Temple's Works, vol. i. pp. 157–162. About seventy years later, the same inference was drawn by another acute observer, Le Blanc, who, after mentioning the liberality which the different sects displayed towards each other in Holland, adds, ‘La grande raison d'une harmonie si parfaite est que tout s'y régle par les séculiers de chacune de ces religions, et qu'on n'y souffriroit pas des ministres, dont le zèle imprudent pourroit détruire cette heureuse correspondance.’ Le Blanc, Lettres d'un Français, vol. i. p. 73. I merely give these as illustrations of an important principle, which I shall hereafter prove.

553.‘In the first eleven years of her reign, not one Roman Catholic was prosecuted capitally for religion.’ Neal's Hist. of the Puritans, vol. i. p. 444; and the same remark in Collier's Eccles. Hist. vol. vii. p. 252, edit. 1840.

554.Without quoting the impudent defence which Chief-Justice Popham made, in 1606, for the barbarous treatment of the Catholics (Campbell's Chief Justices, vol. i. p. 225), I will give the words of the two immediate successors of Elizabeth. James I. says: ‘The trewth is, according to my owne knowledge, the late queene of famous memory never punished any Papist for religion.’ Works of King James, London, 1616, folio, p. 252. And Charles I. says: ‘I am informed, neither Queen Elizabeth nor my father did ever avow that any priest in their times was executed merely for religion.’ Parl. Hist. vol. ii. p. 713.

555.This was the defence set up in 1583, in a work called The Execution of Justice in England, and ascribed to Burleigh. See Hallam's Const. Hist. vol. i. pp. 146, 147; and Somers Tracts, vol. i. pp. 189–208: ‘a number of persons whom they term as martyrs,’ p. 195; and at p. 202, the writer attacks those who have ‘entitled certain that have suffered for treason to be martyrs for religion.’ In the same way, the opponents of Catholic Emancipation in our time, found themselves compelled to abandon the old theological ground, and to defend the persecution of the Catholics rather by political arguments than by religious ones. Lord Eldon, who was by far the most influential leader of the intolerant party, said, in a speech in the House of Lords, in 1810, that ‘the enactments against the Catholics were meant to guard, not against the abstract opinions of their religion, but against the political dangers of a faith which acknowledged a foreign supremacy.’ Twiss's Life of Eldon, vol. i. p. 435; see also pp. 483, 501, 577–580. Compare Alison's Hist. vol. vi. pp. 379 seq., a summary of the debate in 1805.

556.Mr. Sewell seems to have this change in view in his Christian Politics, 8vo, 1844, p. 277. Compare Coleridge's note in Southey's Life of Wesley, vol. i. p. 270. An able writer says of the persecutions which, in the seventeenth century, the Church of England directed against her opponents: ‘This is the stale pretence of the clergy in all countries, after they have solicited the government to make penal laws against those they call heretics or schismaticks, and prompted the magistrates to a vigorous execution, then they lay all the odium on the civil power for whom they have no excuse to allege, but that such men suffered, not for religion, but for disobedience to the laws.’ Somers Tracts, vol. xii. p. 534. See also Butler's Mem. of the Catholics, vol. i. p. 389, and vol. ii. pp. 44–46.

557.The first four books, which are in every point of view the most important, were published in 1594. Walton's Life of Hooker, in Wordsworth's Ecclesiast. Biog. vol. iii. p. 509. The sixth book is said not to be authentic; and doubts have been thrown upon the seventh and eighth books; but Mr. Hallam thinks that they are certainly genuine. Literature of Europe, vol. ii. pp. 24, 25.

558.Jewel's Apology was written in 1561 or 1562. See Wordsworth's Eccles. Biog. vol. iii. p. 313. This work, the Bible, and Fox's Martyrs, were ordered, in the reign of Elizabeth, ‘to be fixed in all parish churches, to be read by the people.’ Aubrey's Letters, vol. ii. p. 42. The order, in regard to Jewel's Defence, was repeated by James I. and Charles I. Butler's Mem. of the Catholics, vol. iv. p. 413.

559.‘Wherefore the natural measure whereby to judge our doings is, the sentence of Reason determining and setting down what is good to be done.’ Eccl. Polity, book i. sec. viii. in Hooker's Works, vol. i. p. 99. He requires of his opponents, ‘not to exact at our hands for every action the knowledge of some place of Scripture out of which we stand bound to deduce it, as by divers testimonies they seek to enforce; but rather, as the truth is, so to acknowledge, that it sufficeth if such actions be framed according to the law of reason.’ Book ii. sec. i. Works, vol. i. p. 151. ‘For men to be tied and led by authority, as it were with a kind of captivity of judgment, and, though there be reason to the contrary, not to listen unto it, but to follow, like beasts, the first in the herd, they know not nor care not whither: this were brutish. Again, that authority of men should prevail with men, either against or above Reason, is no part of our belief. Companies of learned men, be they never so great and reverend, are to yield unto Reason.’ Book ii. sec. vii. vol. i. pp. 182, 183. In book v. sec. viii. vol. ii. p. 23, he says, that even ‘the voice of the church’ is to be held inferior to reason. See also a long passage in book vii. sec. xi. vol. iii. p. 152; and on the application of reason to the general theory of religion, see vol. i. pp. 220–223, book iii. sec. viii. Again, at p. 226: ‘Theology, what is it, but the science of things divine? What science can be attained unto, without the help of natural discourse and Reason?’ And he indignantly asks those who insist on the supremacy of faith, ‘May we cause our faith without Reason to appear reasonable in the eyes of men?’ vol. i. p. 230.

560.After referring to Isaiah, he adds: ‘Præter, inquam, hæc omnia, ex historiis et optimorum temporum exemplis videmus pios principes procurationem ecclesiarum ab officio suo nunquam putasse alienam.
  ‘Moses civilis magistratus, ac ductor populi, omnem religionis, et sacrorum rationem, et accepit a Deo, et populo tradidit, et Aaronem episcopum de aureo vitulo, et de violata religione, vehementer et graviter castigavit. Josue, etsi non aliud erat, quàm magistratus civilis, tamen cùm primùm inauguraretur et præficeretur populo, accepit mandata nominatim de religione, deque colendo Deo.
  ‘David rex, cùm omnis jam religio, ab impio rege Saule prorsus esset dissipata, reduxit arcam Dei, hoc est, religionem restituit: nec tantùm adfuit ut admonitor aut hortator operis, sed etiam psalmos et hymnos dedit, et classes disposuit, et pompam instituit, et quodammodo præfuit sacerdotibus.
  ‘Salomon rex ædificavit templum Domino, quod ejus pater David animo tantùm destinaverat: et postremò orationem egregiam habuit ad populum de religione, et cultu Dei; et Abiatharum episcopum postea summovit, et in ejus locum Sadocum surrogavit.’ Apolog. Eccles. Anglic. pp. 161, 162.

561.He says that, although the clergy may be supposed more competent than laymen to regulate ecclesiastical matters, this will practically avail them nothing: ‘It were unnatural not to think the pastors and bishops of our souls a great deal more fit than men of secular trades and callings; howbeit, when all which the wisdom of all sorts can do is done, for the devising of laws in the church, it is the general consent of all that giveth them the form and vigour of laws; without which they could be no more unto us than the counsels of physicians to the sick.’ Ecclesiastical Polity, book viii. sec. vi. vol. iii. p. 303. He adds, p. 326: ‘Till it be proved that some special law of Christ hath for ever annexed unto the clergy alone the power to make ecclesiastical laws, we are to hold it a thing most consonant with equity and reason, that no ecclesiastical laws be made in a Christian commonwealth, without consent as well of the laity as of the clergy, but least of all without consent of the highest power.’

562.‘Quòd si docemus sacrosanctum Dei evangelium, et veteres episcopos, atque ecclesiam primitivam nobiscum facere.’ If this be so, then, indeed, ‘speramus, neminem illorum’ (his opponents) ‘ita negligentem fore salutis suæ, quin ut velit aliquando cogitationem suscipere, ad utros potiùs se adjungat.’ Apolog. Eccles. Anglic. p. 17. At p. 53, he indignantly asks if any one will dare to impeach the Fathers: ‘Ergo Origenes, Ambrosius, Augustinus, Chrysostomus, Gelasius, Theodoretus erant desertores fidei catholicæ? Ergo tot veterum episcoporum et doctorum virorum tanta consensio nihil aliud erat quàm conspiratio hæreticorum? Aut quod tum laudabatur in illis, id nunc damnatur in nobis? Quodque in illis erat catholicum, id nunc mutatis tantùm hominum voluntatibus, repentè factum est schismaticum? Aut quod olim erat verum, nunc statim, quia istis non placet, erit falsum?’ His work is full of this sort of eloquent, but, as it appears to our age, pointless declamation.

563.This large view underlies the whole of the Ecclesiastical Polity. I can only afford room for a few extracts, which will be illustrations rather than proofs: the proof will be obvious to every competent reader of the work itself. ‘True it is, the ancienter the better ceremonies of religion are; howbeit not absolutely true and without exception; but true only so far forth as those different ages do agree in the state of those things for which, at the first, those rites, orders, and ceremonies were instituted.’ vol. i. p. 36. ‘We count those things perfect which want nothing requisite for the end whereto they were instituted.’ vol. i. p. 191. ‘Because when a thing doth cease to be available unto the end which gave it being, the continuance of it must then of necessity appear superfluous.’ And even of the laws of God, he boldly adds: ‘Notwithstanding the authority of their Maker, the mutability of that end for which they are made doth also make them changeable.’ vol. i. p. 236. ‘And therefore laws, though both ordained of God himself, and the end for which they were ordained continuing, may notwithstanding cease, if by alteration of persons or times they be found unsufficient to attain unto that end.’ vol. i. p. 238. At p. 240: ‘I therefore conclude, that neither God's being Author of laws for government of his church, nor his committing them unto Scripture, is any reason sufficient wherefore all churches should for ever be bound to keep them without change.’ See, too, vol. iii. p. 169, on ‘the exigence of necessity.’ Compare pp. 182, 183, and vol. i. p. 323, vol. ii. pp. 273, 424. Not a vestige of such arguments can be found in Jewel; who, on the contrary, says (Apologia, p. 114), ‘Certè in religionem Dei nihil gravius dici potest, quàm si ea accusetur novitatis. Ut enim in Deo ipso, ita in ejus cultu nihil oportet esse novum.’

564.Archbishop Whately has made some very good remarks on this. See his Errors of Romanism traced to their Origin in Human Nature, pp. 237, 238.

565.Their names were Legat and Wightman, and they suffered in 1611: see the contemporary account in Somers Tracts, vol. ii. pp. 400–408. Compare Blackstone's Comment. vol. iv. p. 49; Harris's Lives of the Stuarts, vol. i. pp. 143, 144; and note in Burton's Diary, vol. i. p. 118. Of these martyrs to their opinions, Mr. Hallam says: ‘The first was burned by King, bishop of London; the second by Neyle, of Litchfield.’ Const. Hist. vol. i. pp. 611, 612.

566.It should be mentioned, to the honour of the Court of Chancery, that late in the sixteenth, and early in the seventeenth century, its powers were exerted against the execution of those cruel laws, by which the Church of England was allowed to persecute men who differed from its own views. See Campbell's Chancellors, vol. ii. pp. 135, 176, 231.

567.‘To tax any one, therefore, with want of reverence, because he pays no respect to what we venerate, is either irrelevant, or is a mere confusion. The fact, so far as it is true, is no reproach, but an honour; because to reverence all persons and all things is absolutely wrong: reverence shown to that which does not deserve it, is no virtue; no, nor even an amiable weakness, but a plain folly and sin. But if it be meant that he is wanting in proper reverence, not respecting what is really to be respected, that is assuming the whole question at issue, because what we call divine, he calls an idol; and as, supposing that we are in the right, we are bound to fall down and worship, so, supposing him to be in the right, he is no less bound to pull it to the ground and destroy it.’ Arnold's Lectures on Modern History, pp. 210, 211. Considering the ability of Dr. Arnold, considering his great influence, and considering his profession, his antecedents, and the character of the university in which he was speaking, it must be allowed that this is a remarkable passage, and one well worthy the notice of those who wish to study the tendencies of the English mind during the present generation.

568.On the connexion between the rise of the Baconian philosophy and the change in the spirit of theologians, compare Comte, Philosophie Positive, vol. v. p. 701, with Whately on Dangers to Christian Faith, pp. 148, 149. It favoured, as Tennemann (Gesch. der Philos. vol. x. p. 14) says, the ‘Belebung der selbstthätigen Kraft des menschlichen Geistes;’ and hence the attack on the inductive philosophy in Newman's Development of Christian Doctrine, pp. 179–183. But Mr. Newman does not seem to be aware how irrevocably we are now pledged to the movement which he seeks to reverse.

569.The rapid increase of heresy in the middle of the seventeenth century is very remarkable, and it greatly aided civilization in England by encouraging habits of independent thought. In Feb. 1646–7, Boyle writes from London, ‘There are few days pass here, that may not justly be accused of the brewing or broaching of some new opinion. Nay, some are so studiously changling in that particular, they esteem an opinion as a diurnal, after a day or two scarce worth the keeping. If any man have lost his religion, let him repair to London, and I'll warrant him he shall find it: I had almost said too, and if any man has a religion, let him but come hither now, and he shall go near to lose it.’ Birch's Life of Boyle, in Boyle's Works, vol. i. pp. 20, 21. See also Bates's Account of the late Troubles, edit. 1685, part ii. p. 219, on ‘that unbridled licentiousness of hereticks which grew greater and greater daily.’ Compare to the same effect Carlyle's Cromwell, vol. i. p. 289; Hallam's Const. Hist. vol. i. p. 608; and Carwithen's Hist. of the Church of England, vol. ii. p. 203: ‘sectaries began to swarm.’

570.Not to quote the opinions of inferior men respecting Chillingworth, it is enough to mention, that Lord Mansfield said he was ‘a perfect model of argumentation.’ Butler's Reminiscences, vol. i. p. 126. Compare a letter from Warburton, in Nichols's Illustrations of the Eighteenth Century, vol. iv. p. 849.

571.Des Maizeaux, Life of Chillingworth, p. 141.

572.Aubrey's Letters and Lives, vol. ii. p. 285; Des Maizeaux, Life of Chillingworth, pp. 2, 9. The correspondence between Laud and Chillingworth is supposed to be lost. Des Maizeaux, p. 12. Carwithen (Hist. of the Church of England, vol. ii. p. 214) says, ‘Laud was the godfather of Chillingworth.’

573.The character of Laud is now well understood and generally known. His odious cruelties made him so hated by his contemporaries, that after his condemnation, many persons shut up their shops, and refused to open them till he was executed. This is mentioned by Walton, an eye-witness. See Walton's Life of Sanderson, in Wordsworth's Eccles. Biog. vol. iv. p. 429.

574.A modern writer suggests, with exquisite simplicity, that Chillingworth derived his liberal principles from Oxford: ‘the very same college which nursed the high intellect and tolerant principles of Chillingworth.’ Bowles's Life of Bishop Ken, vol. i. p. xxi.

575.Hooker's undue respect for the Councils of the Church is noticed by Mr. Hallam, Const. Hist. vol. i. p. 213. Compare the hesitating remarks in Coleridge's Literary Remains, vol. iii. pp. 35, 36.

576.Reading the Fathers he contemptuously calls travelling on a ‘north-west discovery.’ Chillingworth's Religion of Protestants, p. 366. Even to Augustine, who was probably the ablest of them, Chillingworth pays no deference. See what he says at pp. 196, 333, 376; and as to the authority of the Fathers in general, see pp. 252, 346. Chillingworth observed, happily enough, that churchmen ‘account them fathers when they are for them, and children when they are against them.’ Calamy's Life, vol. i. p. 253.

577.As to the supposed authority of Councils, see Religion of Protestants, pp. 132, 463. It affords curious evidence of the slow progress of theologians to observe the different spirit in which some of our clergy consider these matters. See, for instance, Palmer on the Church, 1839, vol. ii. pp. 150–171. In no other branch of inquiry do we find this obstinate determination to adhere to theories which all thinking men have rejected for the last two centuries.

578.Indeed, he attempts to fasten the same doctrine upon the Catholics; which, if he could have done, would of course have ended the controversy. He says, rather unfairly, ‘Your church you admit, because you think you have reason to do so; so that by you, as well as Protestants, all is finally resolved into your own reason.’ Relig. of Protest. p. 134.

579.‘God desires only that we believe the conclusion, as much as the premises deserve; that the strength of our faith be equal or proportionable to the credibility of the motives to it.’ Relig. of Protest. p. 66. ‘For my part, I am certain that God hath given us our reason to discern between truth and falsehood; and he that makes not this use of it, but believes things he knows not why, I say it is by chance that he believes the truth, and not by choice; and I cannot but fear that God will not accept of this sacrifice of fools.’ p. 133. ‘God's spirit, if he please, may work more, – a certainty of adherence beyond a certainty of evidence; but neither God doth, nor man may, require of us, as our duty, to give a greater assent to the conclusion than the premises deserve; to build an infallible faith upon motives that are only highly credible and not infallible; as it were a great and heavy building upon a foundation that hath not strength proportionate.’ p. 149. ‘For faith is not knowledge, no more than three is four, but eminently contained in it; so that he that knows, believes, and something more; but he that believes many times does not know – nay, if he doth barely and merely believe, he doth never know.’ p. 412. See also p. 417.

580.On the connexion between the Reformation and the views advocated in the Ecclesiastical Polity, compare Newman's Development of Christian Doctrine, p. 47, with some able remarks by Locke, in King's Life of Locke, vol. ii. pp. 99–101. Locke, who was anything but a friend to the church, was a great admirer of Hooker, and in one place calls him ‘the arch-philosopher.’ Essay on Government, in Locke's Works, vol. iv. p. 380.

581.The opposition between Jewel and Hooker was so marked, that some of the opponents of Hooker quoted against him Jewel's Apology. See Wordsworth's Eccl. Biog. vol. iii. p. 513. Dr. Wordsworth calls this ‘curious;’ but it would be much more curious if it had not happened. Compare the remarks made by the Bishop of Limerick (Parr's Works, vol. ii. p. 470, Notes on the Spital Sermon), who says, that Hooker ‘opened that fountain of reason,’ &c.; language which will hardly be considered too strong by those who have compared the Ecclesiastical Polity with the theological works previously produced by the English church.

582.Des Maizeaux (Life of Chillingworth, pp. 220, 221) says: ‘His book was received with a general applause; and, what perhaps never happened to any other controversial work of that bulk, two editions of it were published within less than five months… The quick sale of a book, and especially of a book of controversy, in folio, is a good proof that the author hit the taste of his time.’ See also Biographia Britannica, edit. Kippis, vol. iii. pp. 511, 512.

583.Or, as Calamy cautiously puts it, Chillingworth's work ‘appeared to me to go a great way towards the justifying of moderate conformity.’ Calamy's Life, vol. i. p. 234. Compare Palmer on the Church, vol. i. pp. 267, 268; and what is probably an allusion to Chillingworth in Doddridge's Correspond. and Diary, vol. ii. p. 81. See also the opinion of Hobbes, in Aubrey's Letters and Lives, vol. ii. pp. 288, 629.

584.A short but able view of the aspect which the English mind now began to assume, will be found in Stäudlin, Geschichte der theologischen Wissenschaften, vol. ii. pp. 95 seq.

585.In Whately's Dangers to Christian Faith, pp. 188–198, there is a perspicuous statement of the arguments now commonly received against coercing men for their religious opinions. But the most powerful of these arguments are based entirely upon expediency, which would have insured their rejection in an age of strong religious convictions. Some, and only some, of the theological difficulties respecting toleration, are noticed in Coleridge's Lit. Remains, vol. i. pp. 312–315; and in another work (The Friend, vol. i. p. 73), he mentions, what is the real fact ‘that same indifference which makes toleration so easy a virtue with us.’ See also Archdeacon Hare's Guesses at Truth, 2nd series, 1848, p. 278; and Nichols's Illustrations of Lit. Hist. vol. v. p. 817: ‘a spirit of mutual toleration and forbearance has appeared (at least one good consequence of religious indifference).’

586.It would be idle to offer proofs of so notorious a fact; but the reader will be interested by some striking remarks in Capefigue, Hist. de la Réforme, vol. i. pp. 228, 229.

587.A writer intimately acquainted with the social condition of the great European countries, says: ‘Ecclesiastical power is almost extinct as an active element in the political or social affairs of nations or of individuals, in the cabinet or in the family circle; and a new element, literary power, is taking its place in the government of the world.’ Laing's Denmark, 1852, p. 82. On this natural tendency in regard to legislation, see Meyer, Esprit des Institut. Judiciaires, vol. i. p. 267 note; and a good summary in Stäudlin, Gesch. der theolog. Wissenschaften, vol. ii. pp. 304, 305. It is not surprising to find that many of the clergy complain of a movement so subversive of their own power. Compare Ward's Ideal of a Christian Church, pp. 40, 108–111, 388; Sewell's Christian Politics, pp. 276, 277, 279; Palmer's Treatise on the Church, vol. ii. p. 361. It is thus that everything is tending to confirm the remarkable prediction of Sir James Mackintosh, that ‘church-power (unless some revolution, auspicious to priestcraft, should replunge Europe in ignorance) will certainly not survive the nineteenth century.’ Mem. of Mackintosh, vol. i. p. 67.

588.‘The “divines” in England at the present day, her bishops, professors, and prebendaries, are not theologians. They are logicians, chemists, skilled in the mathematics, historians, poor commentators upon Greek poets.’ Theodore Parker's Critical and Miscellaneous Writings, 1848, p. 302. At p. 33, the same high authority says: ‘But, within the present century, what has been written in the English tongue, in any department of theological scholarship, which is of value and makes a mark on the age? The Bridgewater Treatises, and the new edition of Paley, – we blush to confess it, – are the best things.’ Sir William Hamilton (Discussions on Philosophy, 1852, p. 699) notices the decline of ‘British theology,’ though he appears ignorant of the cause of it. The Rev. Mr. Ward (Ideal of a Christian Church, p. 405) remarks, that ‘we cannot wonder, however keenly we may mourn, at the decline and fall of dogmatic theology.’ See also Lord Jeffrey's Essays, vol. iv. p. 337: ‘Warburton, we think, was the last of our great divines… The days of the Cudworths and Barrows, the Hookers and Taylors, are long gone by.’ Dr. Parr was the only English theologian since Warburton who possessed sufficient learning to retrieve this position; but he always refused to do so, being, unconsciously to himself, held back by the spirit of his age. Thus, we find him writing to Archbishop Magee, in 1823: ‘As to myself, I long ago determined not to take any active part in polemical theology.’ Parr's Works, vol. vii. p. 11.
In the same way, since the early part of the eighteenth century, hardly any one has carefully read the Fathers, except for mere historical and secular purposes. The first step was taken about the middle of the seventeenth century, when the custom of quoting them in sermons began to be abandoned. Burnet's Own Time, vol. i. pp. 329, 330; Orme's Life of Owen, p. 184. After this they rapidly fell into contempt; and the Rev. Mr. Dowling (Study of Ecclesiast. History, p. 195) asserts, that ‘Waterland, who died in 1740, was the last of our great patristical scholars.’ To this I may add, that nine years subsequent to the death of Waterland, the obvious decay of professional learning struck Warburton, afterwards Bishop of Gloucester, so much, that he wrote to Jortin, somewhat roughly, ‘anything makes a divine among our parsons.’ See his Letter, written in 1749, in Nichols's Illustrations of Lit. Hist. vol. ii. p. 173; and for other evidence of the neglect by the clergy of their ancient studies, see Jones's Memoirs of Horne, Bishop of Norwich, pp. 68, 184; and the complaint of Dr. Knowler, in 1766, in Nichols's Lit. Anec. vol. ii. p. 130. Since then, attempts have been made at Oxford to remedy this tendency; but such attempts, being opposed by the general march of affairs, have been, and must be, futile. Indeed, so manifest is the inferiority of these recent efforts, that one of the most active cultivators in that field frankly admits, that, in point of knowledge, his own party has effected nothing; and he even asserts, with great bitterness, that ‘it is melancholy to say it, but the chief, perhaps the only, English writer who has any claim to be considered an ecclesiastical historian, is the infidel Gibbon.’ Newman on the Develop. of Christ. Doct. p. 5.