But even supposing this—where there is no compulsion, there no violence can be done to the conscience, and no one is compelled to “enter the church,” and in using the expression, I confess I cannot perceive with the Messrs. Hull, that it is redolent “of a very popish error,” it certainly means, as they observe, “taking orders;” and I should think that the last persons likely to present themselves to a Bishop for that purpose, would be those whose consciences were already overborne by the pressure of their scruples.
“Tenderness of conscience,” says Bishop Jeremy Taylor, “is an equivocal term, and does not always signify in a good sense.” [19] I am far from meaning to impeach the sincerity of the petitioners, but if his Lordship applied the term in any other than a good sense, he might seem to have paid them but an equivocal compliment, and if he used it in a good sense with respect to them, the great body of the clergy who have subscribed, and felt no pang, might suspect his Lordship of meaning to imply that they were gifted with consciences of a somewhat tougher texture than is altogether to be envied. Some have chosen to draw this inference; I will not however believe that they have done his Lordship’s deliberate sentiments justice in so doing.
“And by continuing these difficulties (of Subscription) we should leave the way open only to those whose consciences have no scruples, and who would enter the Church only with a view to the profits and secular advantages.”
I would submit that a man may enter the Church with a view to its secular advantages, without being justly involved in the suspicion of insincerity, or of necessity, laying himself open to the imputation of entering it only with a view to its profits. For instance, should a gentleman have in his gift what is commonly called a family living, he may design it as a provision for a younger son, who enters upon a course of study and trains himself for the ministry, and that without necessarily discarding all view to the secular advantages of his profession, knowing that “they which preach the gospel should live of the gospel:” but so far from its following that he enters the Church with no other or higher motive; how frequently do we find it the case with those whose lot has thus been cast, as it were, for them, that they prove not merely exemplary parish priests, but eventually rise to adorn the Episcopal Bench. His Lordship will not object to my adducing his own successful career as a case in point.
But if such characters as his Lordship speaks of, can even now in the teeth of all the imputed difficulties, enter the church, if they be so disposed, I do not clearly see how removing these difficulties will mitigate the evil—how widening the portal will tend to obstruct the entrance. Nor, although it stands so recorded in his Lordship’s speech, will I believe it to be, his deliberate opinion, that by leaving the matter of Subscription as it now stands, we leave the way open only to those whose consciences can feel no scruples. If these expressions of his Lordship are to be taken only in a good sense, I trust for the credit of the Church that his Lordship is not the only exception to the general rule. The Messrs. Hull, in their animadversions on the Bishop of London’s speech, draw a nice distinction between “opening the door,” and “leaving it open.” In cases of burglary I believe the distinction involves a difference; we may venture therefore to hazard a guess to which of the brothers, the lawyer or the divine, we may attribute that contribution to the joint stock pamphlet. [21]
“But there is an answer commonly given, and a weighty one, to this objection. The Church has a sort of elasticity which allows and graduates the differences that exist.”
Yet on the use of the word “elasticity” by the Bishop of London, you say, “I confess myself entirely unable to distinguish between the ‘expansion’ of the one prelate or the ‘elasticity’ of the other.” [22a] If there is no difference between the existing elasticity and the expansion pleaded for, for what boon did the petitioners pray? I anticipate your answer, and will reply to it presently.
“It does not become the Church of England, a Church founded on liberty of conscience and the right of private judgment, to say that there shall not be a certain latitude of opinion.”
This observation has been the theme for much discussion. It has been pretty roundly insinuated that his Lordship’s meaning had been wilfully misapprehended by the Bishop of London. I see myself but little ground for the insinuation. It will at all events be admitted that his Lordship did not qualify or define the sense in which he used the observation. He has however explained his meaning and the extent to which he applied it in his pamphlet, or as you term it “brief defence” of his speech.
After quoting the “passing remarks of a country newspaper,” as elucidatory of his Lordship’s meaning, you say, “I cannot believe the Bishop of London could be blind to a distinction so obvious.” [22b] For the present, be it so. In the same page in which this expression of your incredulity as to his Lordship’s blindness occurs, you quote another passage from his speech, that in which he observes of Subscription,—“it is not required from all members of the Church, but only from the ministers of the Church, as a security against a greater evil, &c.” Upon which you exclaim, “can we forget that all graduates at the universities are required to subscribe, that these are all laymen?” Not very easily, I admit. And which would you wish us to suppose? That his Lordship had forgotten it, or that he was ignorant of it, or that he intended to palm upon the audience before which he spake such an assertion as a literal fact? As I am inclined to think that you suppose neither one nor the other, I must say, “I cannot believe that you could be blind to his Lordship’s meaning,” and could not help exclaiming on reading your ready imputation against the Bishop of London—“Physician! heal thyself.”