As the Duke of York’s religious opinions had increasingly attracted the attention and excited the alarm of the nation at large, the rulers of the Church shared in the anxiety, and were very desirous, if possible, to see him reclaimed from the Roman communion. The origin of a project, with the view of accomplishing this purpose, is ascribed to the new Archbishop of Canterbury.
PROTESTANT OPPOSITION.
Upon the death of Sheldon, William Sancroft, at the time Prolocutor to the Lower House of Convocation, was elevated to the primacy, for reasons differently stated by different persons. Probably, in this case, the reason is to be found in his unambitious spirit and in his amiable disposition, as suggested by Dryden:
“Zadoc the priest, whom, shunning power and place,
His lowly mind advanced to David’s grace.”
If it was supposed that he would become the pliant tool of the Monarch; events at the Revolution contradicted the idea, and the circumstances now to be described show that the Archbishop, after his exaltation, determined to act as a zealous Protestant. He, with his aged brother, Morley, of Winchester, and not without the consent of the King, obtained an audience from His Royal Highness, and delivered to him an address on the subject of reconversion. Sancroft spoke of the Church of England as most afflicted, a lily amongst thorns, bearing on her body the marks of the Lord Jesus—the scars of old, and the impressions of new wounds. But the greatest amongst the multitude of her sorrows was, the speaker said, that the Duke should forsake her fellowship, after the education which he had received, and after the solemn charge which his dying father gave his elder brother, touching the duty of everlasting fidelity to the Established Church. The Duke was described by the Primate as the bright morning and evening star, which arose and set with the sun, but he had withdrawn his light; and now the two Bishops, who had undertaken to plead with him in the cause of Protestantism, assured His Royal Highness of their intercessions on his behalf, and asked whether, with his noble and generous heart, he would throw back these prayers? They inquired, if those to whom he had surrendered himself, had not renounced reason and common sense, and really taught him to put out his own eyes, that they might lead him whither they would? His case did not seem hopeful to his Protestant advisers, yet they declared that they had too good an opinion of his understanding, to believe that he would sell himself at so cheap a rate. Nothing of such moment as religion was to be huddled up in a dark and implicit manner. It was his duty to “prove all things, and hold fast that which is good.” The prelates offered their assistance, referred to plain texts and obvious facts “in a hundred books,” and then concluded their address with this syllogism: “That Church which teacheth and practiseth the doctrines destructive of salvation is to be relinquished. But the Church of Rome teacheth and practiseth doctrines destructive of salvation. Therefore the Church of Rome is to be relinquished.”[17]
1679.
This speech, in which compliments and reproofs oddly struggle with each other, and which ends with a logical formula, perfectly impotent under the circumstances, bears upon it traces of Sancroft’s ornate but feeble style of thought and expression. It produced no effect; and the Royal auditor, after saying that it would be presumptuous, in an illiterate man like himself, to enter into controversial disputes with persons of learning, politely dismissed the Bishops, pleading that the pressure of business prevented further discussion.[18] The strain of remark on the one side, the mode of reply on the other, and the interchange of courtesies between the two parties, present a striking contrast to the conversations between John Knox and the Duke’s great-grandmother. The Archbishop of Canterbury appears much more amiable than the Scotch Presbyterian Reformer; and James is much more prudent than Mary Queen of Scots: but how tame and lifeless appears all the smooth eloquence of the Primate, compared with the burning words of the Elijah-like Presbyterian; and how unimpressible is the saturnine Prince, compared with the modern Jezebel, who wept and stormed at Holyrood.
SANCROFT.
No doubt can exist of Sancroft’s sincere opposition to Popery. Wilkins, in his Concilia, gives, in addition to Royal proclamations on that subject, a letter written by the Primate to the Bishop of London, dated April 9, 1681, in which he requires that the three canons against Popish recusants, agreed upon in the Synod of London in 1605, namely, the 65th, the 66th, and the 114th, should be put in use, considering, he says, in language then so current on that topic, “how acceptable a service it will be to Almighty God, to assist His Majesty’s pious purpose herein; and, on the other side, how severe a punishment, the last canon of the three appoints, to those who shall neglect their duty herein.”[19] It is remarkable, that after the death of Sheldon, we find in Wilkins, no more documents enforcing the execution of the laws against Nonconformists; an omission which indicates the very different disposition of the new occupant of the see, from that which had been manifested by his predecessor.