Within eighteen months of the date of the Oxford decree for burning the books of Milton and others, there occurred another Act conceived in the same spirit. Lord Sunderland wrote to the Bishop of Oxford, Dr. John Fell, complaining of John Locke,—“He being,” remarks the Bishop in reply, “as your Lordship is truly informed, a person who was much trusted by the late Earl of Shaftesbury, and who is suspected to be ill-affected to the Government, I have for divers years had an eye upon him, but so close has his guard been on himself, that after several strict inquiries, I may confidently affirm that there is not any man in the College, however familiar with him, who has heard him speak a word either against, or so much as concerning the Government.” Yet, although Locke was so extremely cautious, the Bishop professed the greatest zeal in seeking his expulsion, and, after describing what he himself meant to do, adds: “If this method seem not effectual or speedy enough, and His Majesty, our founder and visitor, shall please to command his immediate remove, upon the receipt thereof, directed to the Dean and Chapter, it shall accordingly be executed.” A warrant, immediately despatched by Sunderland, signified the King’s pleasure, that John Locke should be removed from his student’s place, to which the Bishop obsequiously replied: “I hold myself bound in duty to signify to your Lordship that His Majesty’s command for the expulsion of Mr. Locke from this College is fully executed.”[373] This disgraceful deed originated, it is true, with the Sovereign, but the part taken by the Bishop, and the Dean and Chapter of Christchurch, with the silent acquiescence of the University, demonstrates what must have been the political and ecclesiastical atmosphere of the place at that time.
We here terminate these somewhat rambling notices of the ecclesiastical, the religious, and the academic life of the period; and proceed to notice, in the next chapter, a very important subject connected with the state of the English Churches, which has not received from historians the attention it requires.
CHAPTER XIII.
Theological science is a growth; and to its growth, as developed in our own day, the labours of a long line of students have contributed. The genesis of doctrinal opinion is a subject worthy of much more careful research than it has yet received. To find out how particular dogmas have been broached and modified, how they have originated and been unfolded, goes far to fix their truth or their falsehood; and any man who would thoroughly understand the theology of this country, must study carefully the chief authors of theological literature in the seventeenth century. Andrewes, Donne, Jackson, Thorndike, Taylor, Pearson, and Bull—More, Smith, Cudworth, and Barrow—Goodwin, Owen, Baxter, Howe, and Charnock—were all eminent Divines of that period—all, in different degrees, erudite scholars—all hard thinkers; and although they belonged to schools of thought differing in important respects, inasmuch as they read each other’s books, and answered each other’s arguments, they could not but influence each other’s minds. To ponder and to compare them is an exercise helpful to a theological thinker in his search after truth. Unless we believe in the infallibility of our own Church, whatever that Church may be—unless we also believe our own Church to have collected every part of theological truth, to have examined it under every possible aspect, and to have secured the best possible point of view—all of us who engage in sacred studies are bound not to confine ourselves to the perusal of authors who belong to the way of thinking which prevails in our own denomination. Rome has her Index Expurgatorius, and in this she is perfectly consistent. Protestantism, whilst it condemns the Romanist prohibition of inquiry, is excessively inconsistent, if it encourages similar exclusiveness on the part of its own disciples, or allows a wider circle of reading only for controversial purposes. The narrowness of theological schools, and the bigotry of religious sects, is very much owing to a limited acquaintance with books, and to a prejudiced feeling against what is read when accustomed limits are overstepped. And in reference to the authors of the seventeenth century, it cannot be fairly denied—after all which may justly be said touching the dryness and prolixity of their dissertations—that a depth, thoroughness, and power may be found in some of these men which we miss, with a few exceptions, in Divines of our own day.
As the writings of which I speak, together with other influences, have served to produce phases of religious thought amongst ourselves, so amongst them, the writings of earlier theologians, together with other influences, served to produce the characteristic peculiarities of their religious thought. We are apt to underrate the number of ways in which thinking is affected; and we often forget that a simple result may proceed from most complex and composite causes. Many people imagine that the climate of a country is determined entirely by position in point of latitude—that every mile nearer the pole it must be colder, and every mile nearer the equator it must be warmer; whereas numerous and diversified agencies interfere with climate, and produce wonderful curves in the isothermal lines. So, many people imagine that one cause—the study of the Bible—solely determines theological opinion; whereas, forces of all descriptions—even climate and scenery, race and language, laws and memories, especially early education, domestic life, books, friendships, and idiosyncrasies—have a share in the result. Divines two centuries ago might not, any more than ourselves, be conscious of the diversified and subtle operations to which they were subjected; but that circumstance does not interfere with the fact itself.
THEOLOGY.
There had been four broad lines of theological opinion long before the middle of the seventeenth century, as there have been four broad lines running on ever since. In the second century and onward we meet with patristic orthodoxy, the great facts and principles of Christianity taught by the Apostles being illustrated and defended, especially in the Nicene age, by thoughtful men, who, in the use of their natural faculties, by the blessing of Almighty God, explained and established much which is true; not, however, without an admixture of something which was false. In the third century we meet with Alexandrian philosophy, which, by a natural tendency, aimed at bringing the intellectual culture of the age into connection with the Gospel; and therefore dwelt much upon the reasonableness of Christianity, and the points of affinity between it and certain forms of human opinion. In the fourth century we find dogmatic Evangelicalism gathered up by Augustine, and woven into a distinctive system of Christian thought. At the same time the element of Mysticism appears at work, preparing for a vigorous expression of itself during the middle ages. Throughout those ages these four currents are traceable, generic resemblances, being marked, of course, by specific varieties. At the Reformation two of these, the Nicene and the Augustinian, are manifest enough in the English Protestant Church, both struggling against Rome; each also struggling with the other. The traces of Alexandrianism and of Mysticism, after disappearing for awhile, become distinctly visible in the seventeenth century.
It is impossible not to connect the Anglican development of that period with the faith, the polity, and the worship of the Nicene age, and the Puritan doctrines of the same period, with the theology and spiritual life of Augustine. Nor can there be any doubt that the so-called Latitudinarianism (I use the word in its historical sense) of the Cambridge school comes in lineal succession to that of Alexandria. And if Mysticism, as existing amongst Quakers, be not capable of showing distinct historical links of connection with previous thinking, it is plain that its elements had existed long before: a fact, indeed, insisted upon by its more erudite exponents.[374] Anglicans, Puritans, Latitudinarians, and Mystics were all of ancient lineage, although some were unacquainted with, and might even be prejudiced against, their ancestry. Besides, as already indicated, there were other and more immediate influences at work. The ecclesiastical revolutions and conflicts under Elizabeth and the Stuarts, the traditions of domestic life, parental and school education, the atmosphere pervading social circles, and especially the constitution of individual minds—these served to shape systems which stood in direct and determined conflict with one another. Nor let it be forgotten that, though divers factors of religious thought may be enumerated, others exist which lie too deep for discovery and analysis, even by the most subtle inquirers. If it be true generally that we have no complete science of history, it is eminently true of the history of theological opinion. There is mystery in all growth, for there is mystery in all life; and it is idle to suppose that, at least in this world, we shall ever arrive at a perfect philosophy of the progress or activity of mind, in reference to that which is at once, of all subjects, the most practical and the most mysterious.
THEOLOGY.
It will assist the reader in understanding what follows, to observe that, whilst all the theologians to be described appealed to Scripture, each class had its own standard and principles of interpretation; and that, whilst all professed to take the Bible as a whole, each selected from it some favourite parts. The Anglicans, professedly as well as actually, adopted the teaching of the first four or five centuries as a guide to the meaning of Holy Writ. They looked upon that period as the purest and ripest age of Christian wisdom, and concluded that the Church of after-days has been, and is, bound to adhere to the faith and order then established. The Puritans had no such idea of patristic teaching, but contended for the full right of private judgment. Some of the Fathers they valued and loved, particularly Augustine; yet without attaching any special authority even to him. They professed to come to the sacred oracles with unbiassed minds, and it is one of their characteristic notions that the Holy Spirit, bestowed upon devout seekers, remains alone the unerring Expositor of His own Word. The Latitudinarians had their favourite authors, particularly of the Greek philosophical school; and although they did not adopt the opinions of the Puritans as to the teaching of the Spirit, any more than did the Anglicans, yet, in common with both of them, they were prepared to seek Divine assistance in the study of the sacred volume. What, however, they mainly relied upon was their own reason. The Quakers, in their turn, extolled the inward light, the illumination of Christ’s Spirit, as explaining and supplementing the written Word. The Fathers, the Holy Spirit, human reason, and the inward light, were the interpreters to which different classes of Scripture students looked for help in their momentous investigations. In connection with this difference another presents itself. The Anglicans insisted upon those parts of Scripture which relate to the Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Atonement, and to the ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. They used the priesthood and rites of Judaism for the support of their own views regarding sacerdotal ministrations. Diocesan episcopacy and Apostolical succession they endeavoured to deduce from the New Testament; but they were obliged to rest principally upon patristic records for what they believed and taught upon these subjects.