Testing Her Claims by Examining the Chief Characteristics of Her Constitution

Section III

Some of the Chief Characteristics of Her Constitution

The facts contained in these weighty testimonies, and the considerations suggested by the prevailing agitation in the Church of England, prepare us for the examination of some of the principal characteristics of her structure.

In examining them we shall see to what degree they affect her in her capacity of teacher of revelation, and how far they can be said to be compatible or incompatible with the institution which Christ established to be the light of the world.

These characteristics are:—

I. She is bound to regard the Sovereign of the realm as her Supreme Governor.

II. She is bound to allow the Sovereign and the Parliament to determine the creed to be taught within her communion.

III. She is bound to regard the Crown in Council, that is, the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, as the final Court of Appeal even in matters of doctrine.

IV. She is bound to regard the Sovereign and the State as having the sole power to appoint Archbishops and Bishops.

V. She is bound to recognise the same secular power as having authority to fix the boundaries of her Apostolate.

VI. She is forced to recognise that, as an Established Church, she owes her origin and her preservation in life to an Act of the National Parliament.

Characteristic I.—She Is Bound to Regard the Sovereign of the Realm as Her Supreme Governor

The reigning monarch is her Supreme Head. From the day Henry broke finally with Rome, cast off the supremacy of Peter’s successor and vested it in the Crown, that Church has recognised the existing Sovereign, whether young or old, wise or foolish, pious or not pious, as the source of all ecclesiastical jurisdiction.

Every Anglican Bishop in his oath of homage, on the occasion of his consecration, swears: “I, A. B., Doctor in Divinity, now elected, confirmed and consecrated Bishop of N., do hereby declare that your Majesty is the only Supreme Governor of this your realm in spiritual and ecclesiastical things, as well as in temporal, and that no foreign prelate or potentate has any jurisdiction within this realm; and I acknowledge that I hold the said Bishopric, as well the spiritualities as the temporalities thereof, only of your Majesty. And for the same temporalities I do my homage presently to your Majesty, so help me God. God save Queen Victoria.”¹⁵15“It would be impossible, I think,” says Mr. Allies, “to devise a more unambiguous declaration that spiritual mission and jurisdiction are derived, in the Church which was set up by Queen Elizabeth and continues what she made it, from the Crown and nobody but the Crown, than this Charter professed by each of the Bishops of that Church as he enters on his office” (Per Crucem ad Lucem, p. 7). And Mr. Chapman observes: “It was said that the term spiritualities referred to a certain department of income, and certain passages were quoted to show that certain fees were even in pre-Reformation times called spirituals. But this is a very feeble evasion. The oath makes no distinction, but says, ‘I hold the spiritualities,’ that is—all of them, and therefore the past and present jurisdiction of the See, which is what the word spiritualities has always previously meant.”

The extent to which, through this oath, supreme spiritual jurisdiction has been claimed by the Crown, and has been recognised, willingly or unwillingly, by the Church, has been almost unlimited. That the Crown has arrogated to itself and freely exercised ecclesiastical supremacy, not merely as to the appointment of Bishops and the framing of the national standard of belief and worship, but also in everything which pertained to Church government, cannot be better seen than in a certain use of it which took place in the reigns of Edward VI., Elizabeth and James I.

Edward actually went so far as to dispense the Archbishop (Cranmer) of Canterbury and his family, and some other privileged persons, from abstinence “in times of Lent and other fasting days”. We quote from a letter of the present Bishop of Clifton, which appeared in the Tablet of 13th March, 1897, in reference to a Lenten Indult published by him (Dr. Brownlow) some time before. The Bishop gives the words of the Royal License and gives also the sources from which he took them. The words are: “‘The King to all to whom these presents come greeting. Be you made aware that We, of our own special Grace, and our own certain knowledge and mere motion, moreover with the advisement and consent of our Councillors, We have given and granted License, and by these presents do give and grant License to the Most Reverend Father in Christ, Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of our whole Kingdom and Metropolitan, as well as to all his Family, and to all those (how many soever they be) who come to said Thomas, that he and all his Family wherever they may be, henceforth, during the whole of the natural life of the same Thomas, in times of Lent (Quadragesimalibus) and other Fasting Days whatsoever, may freely and with impunity eat flesh meat and white-meats (Carnibus et Lacticiniis), any Statute, Act or Proclamation, Constitutions or Ordinances to the contrary made or published, or in future to be made or published, notwithstanding.’”—28th February, 1550.

“Similar licenses are given in Rymer as granted to Thomas, Bishop of Ely, to Miles Coverdale and his wife Elizabeth; also to Sir Philip Hobye and Sir John Gates, and to the Marquis of Winchester, the Lady Elizabeth his wife, and all their guests, not exceeding twelve.”¹⁶16See Rymer’s Fœdera, vol. vi., p. 181, etc.

“The retrospective character,” says the Bishop, “of the first words of Cranmer’s dispensation is explained by the following extract quoted by Froude from a contemporary MS. of the year 1547: ‘This year the Archbishop of Canterbury did eat meat openly in Lent, in the Hall of Lambeth, the like of which was never seen since England was a Christian nation.’”¹⁷17History, vol. v., p. 34.

“The document,” observes the Bishop, “is a curious illustration of the process by which the papal authority was usurped by the King of England in the first instance; and as that fiction was too ridiculous to be long maintained, it ceased to be recognised altogether.”

Elizabeth went quite as far; she seems to have undertaken, with the aid of her Parliament, to revalidate orders and consecrations which had been widely believed to be invalid.

We give an extract bearing on this matter from a letter of Sir Donald McFarlane which appeared in The Times, 7th February, 1896, and was reproduced in the Tablet of 15th February of the same year. In this letter Sir Donald brings to light a remarkable Act of Parliament, the eighth of Elizabeth, dated 1565.

Speaking of it in a subsequent letter to The Times, he says: “Be it observed that this is not a Royal Proclamation telling the people that they are wrong, but an Act of Parliament, which by its own power professes to remedy whatever errors or defects there may have been in the matter of consecration of Bishops and Clergy, whether these defects were legal or canonical. The Act,” he continues, “is a certain indication of the public opinion of the period, and as such is valuable.”

The following are some extracts from it:—

(1) “‘Forasmuch as divers questions by overmuch boldness of speech and talk amongst many of the common sort of people, being unlearned, hath lately grown upon the making and consecrating of Archbishops and Bishops within this realm, whether the same were and be duly and orderly done, according to law or not.’”

(2) “‘Whereby her Majesty by her supreme power and authority hath dispensed with all causes or doubts of any imperfection or disability that can or may be objected against the same.’”

(4) “‘Shall be by the authority of this Parliament declared, judged and deemed at and from every of the several times of the doing thereof good and perfect in all respects and purposes any matter or thing that can or may be objected to the contrary thereof in any wise notwithstanding.’”

(5) “‘How Archbishops, Bishops, Priests and Deacons, and Ministers should be consecrated, made, and order be in very deed and also by authority hereof declared and enacted to be rightly made, ordered, and consecrated any Statute, law, canon or other thing to the contrary notwithstanding.’”¹⁸18It is true some Anglicans say that this Act was to remedy civil defects or objections from the side of civil law. This, however, is merely an assertion.

“In volume viii., page 303, of Froude’s History, the passing of this Act is spoken of as necessary to give the Church of England the ‘right to exist’.”

But nothing could illustrate better the degree to which the Church was under the dominion of the Crown or of the “civil magistrate” than the action of Elizabeth in reference to “embering and fish days”. She appeared to think she could exercise the power of the keys as largely as St. Peter himself; and exercise it, not merely with regard to spiritual things (to which even he, the Prince of the Apostles, felt he was obliged to restrict its use), but even with regard to temporal things.

She came to know that days of fasting and of abstinence were carelessly observed; and to know also that in consequence of this widely prevailing carelessness, many mariners and fishermen, who were badly off, could not find an adequate means of support. It occurred to her she might use her ecclesiastical supremacy in a way that would tend to their temporal aid,—by increasing demand in the fish market. She did so. In the year 1576, by an order issued at her command by the Privy Council, Archbishop Grindal was peremptorily required to enforce days of fasting and abstinence.

The Queen, however, although she was exercising her spiritual authority in the largest sense, made it clear that in giving such command she was not actuated by any spiritual or ecclesiastical motive. She took care to have it announced that, in reviving these days of abstinence, she did not do so “for any liking of popish ceremonies heretofore used,” but “only to maintain the mariners and the navy of this land by setting men a-fishing”.¹⁹19Collier, vi., p. 576; Strype’s Life of Archbishop Grindal, p. 336.

In other words, in her character of spiritual head of the Church, she commanded the Archbishop to enforce abstinence days upon the country at large, not for the purpose of having these days more conscientiously and more holily observed, not because the nation’s penance would be agreeable to God, or be a reparation to His injured Majesty for sin committed, or would be beneficial to the souls of the people, or would tend in any way to the welfare of religion, but simply to create a more extensive sale of fish for the object already mentioned.

James I. may be said to have used this ecclesiastical supremacy, or, as it might be called, lay-patriarchal jurisdiction, as largely as either of his predecessors. Pye, in his pamphlet on Disestablishment, p. 17, relates an event which is to the point. He takes it from Collier’s History, and gives it in these words:—

“Dr. Abbot, the Archbishop of Canterbury, went out shooting, and was unlucky enough to kill the gamekeeper. This caused a great scandal, and no one knew exactly what was to be done; but the King (James I.) settled the matter; he issued a commission to eight Bishops ‘empowering them, or any six of them, to dispense with any irregularity. … By this instrument the canons, in case there was need, are overruled and dispensed with.’ “This (as the historian who states the fact says) supposes a patriarchal, if not papal, authority vested in the King.”²⁰20Collier’s History (Straker’s edition), vol. vii., p. 424. The new theory of the Sovereign giving only civil sanction to the exercise of jurisdiction will not answer this. In all these cases Edward VI., Elizabeth, James I. are regarded as the source of jurisdiction, and not merely as giving sanction to its being exercised.

It may be said that these events belong to a state of things which has long since passed away, that such is not the case now, that things have materially changed. We answer: So far as the authority which the secular power has held and still holds over the “spiritual government and spiritual beliefs” of the Church is concerned, no substantial change has taken place. The proof of this statement is found in the testimonies quoted above. Such then is the unconditional and unrestricted control which the sworn homage on the part of the Bishops gives to the Sovereign and the Parliament over the National Church.

We have now to point briefly to the effect of the Episcopal oath on the state or nature of doctrinal teaching in the Anglican communion.

It is thought by some, who seem adequately informed on the matter, that this self-same oath is the secret of that seeming indifference to doctrinal truth which has been the characteristic of the Anglican Episcopate for generations past.

Mr. Horace Chapman, formerly Protestant Rector of Donhead, Wiltshire, a convert to the Catholic Church, declares that this is his conviction. In an interesting lecture delivered in the Westminster Town Hall to a large audience on the 17th of October, 1896, he said: “Simple people thought that when a Bishop went to Windsor to do homage, he went as a citizen to do fealty to our lady the Queen. Not at all. The process is this: Dressed in full canonicals, he is taken by the Home Secretary into the Royal presence, and then, on his knees, after kissing the Bible says: I, A. B., etc.” The words of the oath are given above.

Mr. Chapman continues: “Now, this most extraordinary oath, as a great many other remarkable things, came in with Elizabeth; but, except the Bishops, I doubt, until Lord John Russell published it, whether ordinary persons knew of its meaning and import. It was at once attempted to be explained away, but it remains. And my firm belief is, that in this oath is to be found the reason for the apparent indifference of the Episcopate to all definite truth. They can do nothing after taking it, and without resigning their Sees, they cannot disobey the law in any particular.”

It stands to reason that a sworn declaration, made under the conditions named, should render the Bishops somewhat apathetic in reference to defined doctrine. It places them in an awkward dilemma. It binds them to the civil law, which either they must obey or run the risk of deposition or deprivation.

On the other hand, there may be cases in which the civil law collides with the law of the Gospel. In such circumstances they are bound to break the law of the Gospel and keep the law of the land. Else they must resign their Sees. A position like this naturally generates a strong inclination to minimise the dogmas of faith, to tone them down, to depreciate their importance, to explain them away, to agree to unseemly and unwarrantable compromises, and to seek shelter behind ambiguous affirmations and ambiguous denials.

But now comes a question of paramount importance. Suppose the Church of England was in reality the Church of “Continuity” at the Reformation, who authorised her to surrender her independence? On what grounds could she transfer supreme authority over her affairs into the hands of the Crown? Whence did she derive sanction for such an arbitrary proceeding? And let us ask similarly, who authorised the State—which professed to be a Christian State—to accept the surrender of her liberties and the cession of her spiritual prerogatives? On what principle did it (the State) justify itself in assuming and appropriating the sovereign management of a kingdom which was distinctly pronounced by its Founder to be a thing “not of this world”? Did it receive any message or instruction from above permitting it to do so? Could it reasonably profess to have as much control over spiritual things as it had over temporal—over the unseen world as over the one that was visible? On what authority could it pretend—by an Act of Parliament—to make heaven change the usual channel of spiritual jurisdiction—i.e., transfer that jurisdiction from the ecclesiastical channel hitherto recognised and make it flow in future through an absolutely secular one? It is impossible to understand the process, unless it rests on the belief that a civil government—whether it be that of an empire, a kingdom or a republic—has greater influence in heaven, is more largely endowed with spiritual privileges, is in closer contact with supernatural agencies and with the sources of Divine grace, than is the very Institution which Christ called by pre-eminence His own kingdom. But can anything be produced from Gospel, Epistle, or from antiquity in support of such belief? Until adequate proof in this direction from some reliable source is forthcoming, the union between the Church of England and the State must be regarded as not only illicit and invalid, but as even having the semblance of sacrilege.

Characteristic II.—She Is Bound to Allow the Sovereign and the Parliament to Determine the Creed to Be Taught Within Her Communion

This is undeniable. It is made apparent by the admission that the laity, represented by the Crown and Parliament, have authority not only over her ceremonial observances and her laws of discipline, but also over the formula of faith which she is bound to teach. Besides, the fact is stated in the plainest words in the non-Catholic documents already quoted. No doubt Ritualists and members of the High Church party will deny that the State can claim this power. But that it has not only claimed, but actually exercised it, is clear from the substantial changes which the established religion has undergone; and that it can claim it still and exercise it again is evident from the nature of her constitution.²¹21Macaulay speaks of her as recognising in the Crown spiritual prerogatives and powers of a still more extensive kind than those to which we have alluded. He represents her as looking upon the Sovereign (at least in Henry’s time) as the channel of sacramental graces, and credits her with attributing to the Crown the power of even conferring Holy Orders without any imposition of hands. We give his words here for what they are worth. He says: “What Henry and his favourite counsellors meant at one time was certainly nothing less than the whole power of the keys. The King was to be the Pope of the kingdom, the vicar of God, the expositor of Catholic verity and the channel of sacramental graces. He arrogated to himself the right of deciding dogmatically what was orthodox doctrine and what was heresy, of drawing up and imposing confessions of faith, and of giving religious instruction to his people. He proclaimed that all jurisdiction, spiritual as well as temporal, was derived from him alone, and that it was in his power to convey Episcopal jurisdiction and take it away—it was unnecessary there should be any imposition of hands. The King, such was the opinion of Cranmer given in the plainest words, might in virtue of authority derived from God, make a priest, and the priest so made needed no ordination whatever” (Macaulay’s History of England, chap. i., pp. 27, 28).

Hence, while she allows her children such a large measure of liberty in their individual profession of faith, she is bound to square her general creed according to the dictates of State control.

Doubtless from time to time it may be against her inclination to do this, but there is no choice.

It is an obligation arising from the tenor of the original compromise. The wording of her “Articles of Religion,” however, removes many difficulties which otherwise might appear insuperable. The elasticity of those articles makes compliance in this direction comparatively easy. It is far from a calumny to say this. They can be expanded or contracted according to the political exigencies of the period. Like the famous oracle of old, they can be made to Philippise. They look as if they had been drawn up expressly to fit in a Church which occasionally might find it expedient to change her form of faith. There may not be extant any State document or historical record to show that they were meant originally to have this extensive adaptability. But there is at least intrinsic reason for believing that their authors purposely intended them to be ambiguous. For they can be so interpreted, and as a matter of fact have been so interpreted as to mean Calvinism, Presbyterianism, Lutheranism, Anglicanism, and as Cardinal Newman said while he was still a Protestant—to contain even a portion of Roman Catholicism.²²22Tract 90. They were meant apparently to conciliate and harmonise, as far as could be, the heterogeneous elements of which the Reformed Church was composed at the period of their compilation; and at the same time to satisfy the wishes and secure the approbation of those who were directing the political destinies of the kingdom.

Elizabeth’s characteristic sayings concerning her influence over the Church—the Church which she had in a certain sense created in its then existing form—are as well known as if they had passed into the region of proverbs.

She boasted that she had tuned her pulpits; and she could boast with truth. Certainly there was no falsehood, exaggeration or delusion in her self-glorification in this direction. She had tuned them, and had tuned them with a vengeance. No minister among her Clergy, no prelate of her hierarchy durst teach or preach a doctrine which did not meet her approbation, or did not harmonise with the new doctrines she had set up, or, if he did, he had to pay the penalty. She gave the tone in ecclesiastical teaching as well as in the management of State affairs, and her subservient clergy and Episcopacy were forced to take it up and keep to it.

They had no choice. They were not free to interpret the articles authoritatively—except for themselves—according to the dictates of individual conscience. They were obliged to fulfil the commands of the Queen, whose commands, in this department, were as emphatic and peremptory as if she had claimed for herself the prerogative of even unlimited infallibility. If they showed any hesitation, failed or delayed to obey, she gave them to understand, in language that could not be mistaken, sometimes with the emphatic accompaniment of an oath, that she would punish them.²³23It is held by some that the letter to the Bishop of Peterboro’, in which occurs the threat to unfrock him, is unauthentic. But it is well known that threats of a similar sort on the part of the Queen were both frequent and fierce. She, not they, not all of them together—Bishops and Clergy—was to be the final judge of the creed which was to be preached to the people. But in all this she was but following in the footsteps of her father who, as Green has told us, made it felt, or tried to make it felt, that he alone could define orthodoxy or declare heresy.

The same prerogative which Elizabeth claimed and exercised in this respect might have been, and in some cases was, claimed and exercised legally, in virtue of the structure of the Anglican Church, by every Sovereign that sat upon the throne since her day.

If further illustration be asked, we need not go beyond an event of comparatively recent occurrence. The decision of the Archbishops at Lambeth, 1st May, 1900, on the question of reserving the Sacramental elements makes the point abundantly clear. Although the immediate subject-matter of the judgment delivered on that occasion was Reservation, yet the tone of the reasoning put forward, the references to the Prayer Book as the only one sanctioned by Parliament, the declaration that it was permitted to appeal to the “proper authorities” to have the law prohibiting such Reservation repealed—the whole tenor of the proceedings was of a nature to show, that the Church in teaching religion must be guided by the commands and prohibitions of the secular power. It is true the matter under discussion involved only one dogma; still the decision arrived at was an index to her crippled and helpless condition in reference to every dogma contained in Christ’s revelation.

The emphatic denial of an objective presence in the Lord’s Supper came as a shock on many devoted members of her communion. But equally disagreeable and equally unwelcome—perhaps much more so—was the accompanying exposure of the extent to which her creed was under the touch of the civil magistrate. And this came out in a manner that rendered useless all attempts—however ingenious—to minimise it. It is plain—from that decision—that the objective presence of Christ in the Eucharist is not a doctrine taught by the Church of England. The Archbishops adhered to the Prayer Book in its entirety. They did not find fault with any part of it. They took no exception to what has been called by some the Black Rubric (found at the end of the Communion Service), on the ground that it was not approved in its original form by the Anglican Church, but added on at the last moment by a Royal Mandate.²⁴24It would be irrelevant to discuss here the new theories (weak evasions) which are in vogue—with some Anglicans—in reference to this Rubric. Suffice it to say at present, that, to an unprejudiced reader, its denial of a real presence—in the Catholic sense—is as clear as the light of day. They stood by the Prayer Book as a whole and as it is.

Following its guidance, and thus voicing the teaching of the Church of England, they were compelled to deny an objective presence in the Lord’s Supper. And they were compelled also to give the reasons why “the authorities” prohibited Reservation. The chief reason assigned was this: There was danger that Reservation would bring with it worship of the consecrated elements—worship would or might imply belief in an “actual” presence; and such belief “it was necessary to root out of people’s minds”.

This brings us to the point on which special stress is to be laid—that is, the power of the secular arm over the Church’s teaching. The Archbishops while delivering judgment against Reservation, left those of the clergy—who might be aggrieved by their action—at perfect liberty to appeal to the “proper authorities” to have the law forbidding it removed—in other words, to ask Parliament to legalise a practice which admittedly brought with it the danger that the people would come to believe that Christ’s true Body and Blood were hidden under the Sacramental veils. That such danger would be the consequence was—on their own showing—likely. And in this we readily agree with them. For the removal of the former law against, and the making a new regulation in favour of, Reservation, would mean that it was no longer necessary to make special efforts to root the belief in question out of the minds of the populace, but that on the contrary it was quite lawful thenceforward to practise a worship which might tend to root such belief in their minds.

The Archbishops could not think it was wrong in se to make an act of faith in a Sacramental presence such as we have been alluding to, when they freely accorded dissatisfied clergy permission to make such appeal, else they would be giving them leave to ask Parliament for something which they themselves felt it would be sinful to ask for; and leave also to have the people led, in case the appeal were granted, into the danger of embracing a form of worship which it was a sin to practise. Judging by their words, they had no doubt that such danger was real; and yet, with the intimate consciousness of its reality, they declared to the disappointed section of the clergy, that there was full permission to petition Parliament to abrogate a law, the removal of which was calculated to inspire the people, at least indirectly, with a full and firm faith that Christ was substantially present under the Sacramental appearances.

This was surely giving it to be understood that there would be no serious objection to the believing in an “actual” presence, if Parliament gave leave for such belief by drawing up a new Prayer Book which sanctioned that doctrine, or (what would be pretty much the same) sanctioned the practice of reserving the consecrated elements. If this was not their meaning, i.e., if they did not feel that faith in a Sacramental objective presence could be made reconcilable with Christian dogma, they would be encouraging the aggrieved clergy to have recourse to Parliament for a favour which it would be immoral on the part of a Christian Parliament to grant.

But now what are the inferences? Does not the fact of allowing this liberty of appeal prove, that the Archbishops—acting under the pressure of the Parliamentary Prayer Book—forbade the practice of Reservation and the belief which might accompany it—not on the ground that these things were opposed to the law of the Gospel, but on the ground that they were opposed to the law of the land as the law now stands? Does it not make clear that while they (the Archbishops), who are the chief representatives of the Church, have no power whatever to alter the Prayer Book, yet the Crown and the Parliament have still plenary power to do so; nay, power even to frame a new one; and to select or reject doctrines as they did before? And is not this a virtual admission that it is within the competence of the State to force the Church to accept a doctrine or to disclaim it, as it thinks proper?

What then becomes of the Neo-Anglican theory in which it is maintained, that if the secular power persisted in imposing a non-Catholic doctrine upon the Church, the Church would separate rather than accept it? The High Church men, who tell us that separation would undoubtedly be the result of such irreligious interference, admit that the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist is a Catholic doctrine. And here in this decision we find that the Archbishops, as the principal exponents of the Church’s teaching, reiterate a denial of that doctrine, simply because the Parliamentary Prayer Book—in other words, the State insists on such denial and declares it unlawful to hold it. The substance of our contention, in reference to this Lambeth judgment, decision or opinion, may be expressed as follows:—

(1) The ultimate reason why the practice of Reservation was condemned was the danger to which it exposed Anglicans of believing in an objective presence in the Lord’s Supper.

(2) To petition Parliament to legalise a practice which placed them in the danger of believing in that doctrine, was virtually to ask it to legalise the doctrine itself.

(3) By the very fact of admitting that an appeal to Parliament was necessary before the practice could be allowed, and before the danger of the aforesaid belief could be lawfully risked, they publicly acknowledged that they themselves (the Archbishops) had no power to make the one or the other legal in the Church of England, but that the Crown and Parliament had unrestricted power to legalise both in that Church.

Could there be stronger evidence than this that she is bound to allow the State to determine the creed to be taught within her communion?

Characteristic III.—She Is Bound to Regard the Crown in Council, That Is, the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, as the Final Court of Appeal Even in Matters of Doctrine

Appeals from the clergy, from the hierarchy, yes, even from the Primate, are brought before the Privy Council as the highest and ultimate tribunal. “From all her judicatures,” says Lord Macaulay, “an appeal lay in the last resort to the Sovereign even when the question was whether an opinion ought to be accounted heretical, or whether the administration of a Sacrament had been valid.”²⁵25History of England, chap. i., p. 29.

Discussions about the meaning of the “Articles of Religion”—discussions, which cannot be settled by any ecclesiastical voice, are referred to the same tribunal. The members of that assembly, whatever be their external creed, whatever their conscience and convictions, are privileged in the exercise of their functions to look into the controverted points; to examine them, sift them in the light of their knowledge which is purely secular, and pronounce their verdict. The verdict is final. And that verdict is delivered by a Chancellor who may not profess to belong to any branch of Christianity, whether Protestant, Presbyterian or Calvinistic. In other words, disputes about the meaning of Christ’s revelation are taken away from even the highest ecclesiastical court in the land—which might naturally be supposed to consist of men who have the largest and most accurate amount of sacred learning, and therefore to be best qualified to give a safe and definitive decision in such matters—and are laid before a Council purely secular, some of whose members, possibly all of whose members may profess no Christian creed of any kind whatever.²⁶26Let it be observed: We are not alluding to those who are at present members of that tribunal; we are speaking of what might come to pass. In saying so, we are not overstating the case. There is nothing to prevent Agnostics from outnumbering staunch and devoted Anglicans in the Privy Council. Nor is there anything to prevent Atheists from forming the most numerous party, and commanding the majority of votes in the Houses of Parliament. This is not an impossibility. Who can say that it is even an improbability? If the wave of infidelity which is sweeping over the land, and which seems to be increasing in volume with passing years, does not subside, continues to extend its ravages, and succeeds in reaching high-tide, the day may come (may God avert it), when the larger part of the members of the Privy Council as well as the larger part of the members of Parliament may be out-and-out unbelievers. And in such circumstances, in times of disputed doctrine, they, that is, men who did not believe in Christianity at all, men who even denied the existence of God, would form the teaching body, whose final judgment was to declare to the Christian public the exact meaning of Christ’s revelation. Did Christ ever intend to leave the sense of His revelation at the mercy of such judges? Is not this a much more glaring anomaly, than would be that of withdrawing some obscure disputed point of civil law from the highest legal court in the kingdom, and having it referred to the faculty of medicine for decisive and ultimate pronouncement?

The State is made to supersede the Church in things which naturally belong to her own particular sphere. She may give her verdict about some controverted doctrine; but the verdict given by the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council (if there be any appeal) is looked upon as more safe, more wise, more accurate, at all events, farther removed from error. That is the only verdict which settles the question, at least in the eyes of the law. Hence the thing amounts to this: When it is disputed whether or not some doctrine belongs to the Gospel of Christ, the Church is not trusted,—even her highest and most learned court is not trusted. p. 158The matter under discussion is removed from her jurisdiction—as being an authority it was not quite safe to follow even in her own special province—and is placed under the examination of a tribunal which, in all its departments, is absolutely secular, which cannot produce any charter or proof that it derives exceptional inspiration or authorisation from above to proclaim in cases, in which the Church was unable to do so, the pure plenary revelation of Christianity. If this is the right course, then we are forced to the inference that the very institution, which Christ founded expressly to preserve and teach His religion, failed to do its destined work; and that a civil court (some of whose members perhaps do not believe in the Godhead) can replace her for the moment, repair her mistakes, do her work better than she could do it herself, and teach the people with more certainty and hence with more safety the truths of the New Dispensation.

Amongst the various anomalies connected with the Church of England as a teacher of religion, there is hardly one more seriously damaging than this. It is of itself sufficient to demonstrate that not only in the doctrines she propounds, but in the interpretation she gives them, she must keep within the lines prescribed by the secular power. The irregularity and untenable nature of this position may be shown by the following disjunctive: Either the State had the chief hand in drawing up the articles in which her profession of faith is formulated, or it had not. If it had—then that religion is civil, not ecclesiastical, temporal, not spiritual. It is the voice of the rulers of the realm, not the voice of Him who supplied special teachers of His own. In such case it could show nothing higher, in claiming the people’s homage, than mere Parliamentary sanction. If it had not; but if, on the contrary, the Church had the principal share in their drawing up, why should she not also have the preponderating share in telling their meaning? It would clearly be useless to give her the power of framing them if the “civil magistrate,” and not she, was to have the right of declaring their exact sense. If ministers of the Gospel formulated them, why should ministers of State be thought best qualified to unfold what they contain? As they were things which dealt exclusively with religion, how are we to reach the conclusion that her hierarchy and clergy, who have made a professional study of theology, are less fit to divine their import, than men who have made no professional study of theological science in any way, at least to any appreciable extent; nay, some of whom may not believe that there is such a thing as theology at all? The privilege of explaining their contents to the people is the natural correlative to that of framing them. And it surely must be allowed to look something like a contradiction in terms, to ask the Church to set up a symbol of faith, and then to deprive her of the power of interpreting it, and make the State its interpreter instead. This is a condition of things which no rhetoric, no subtle distinctions can cover or extenuate. It stands out clear and prominent to the eye. The force of the article—as an expression of religion—to bind man’s conscience depends entirely on its meaning; and in the last resort, it rests with the civil magistrate, or with the civil lawyers chosen for the purpose, to unfold and define that meaning!! Is not this to subject the Church “docens” to the Church “discens”? And is it not substantially to carry out in practice the system of Bishop Warburton who has told us: “Of whatever use an alliance” (with the State) “may be thought for preserving the being of religion, the necessity of it for preserving its purity is most evident. … Let us consider,” he adds, “the danger religion runs, when left in its natural state—to itself, of deviating from truth.”²⁷27Mr. Horace Chapman tells us it was this anomaly that did most to bring him into the Catholic fold. In the interesting lecture alluded to above he says: “That which led me to disbelieve in Anglicanism as having anything more than a human origin was the government of the Established Church, or in other words, the exercise of the Royal Supremacy through the Privy Council, as being without doubt the final Court of Appeal of Anglicanism in matters of faith”. He then cites a series of decisions given by the Privy Council, from the Gorham case inclusively to the present time.