Chapter IV: Part 4

The Bishop of Durham, in his Charge, delivered during the autumn of the present year, thus addresses his clergy:—“Yet while we would thus fain bury the past in oblivion, can we shut our eyes to the existing dangers which beset us, from whatever cause they may have arisen? Can we look around and see Infidelity and Atheism on one side, Fanaticism on another; Popery advancing in this direction, Socinianism in that; dissent, lukewarmness, apathy, each with multitudes in its train, without perceiving such an accession of strength to our adversaries, as none of the present generation have ever before witnessed? To exaggerate these evils, or to oppress the friends of religion and social order with excessive apprehensions of danger, can never be the policy of considerate men. But neither are we justified in saying ‘peace, peace,’ when there is no peace; or in holding out illusory representations which every discerning observer must perceive to be unfounded.” {115}

And after stating the “duties to which we are now indispensably called,” the Bishop continues:—“that, in a Christian country like this, and in so advanced a stage of mental cultivation, as is the boast of the present day, it should be needful to press these admonitions, is indeed grievous. And if we enquire how it has become needful, the answer is but too obvious. The main root of the evil lies in a want of sound, sober, and practical _religious_ feeling; operating steadily throughout the community, and influencing the conduct in all the various departments of social life. The want of this is discernible in attempts to carry on the work of _popular education_, without teaching _religion_ for its basis; in the systematic and avowed separation of civil and political from _Christian_ obligations; in the disposition to consider all truths, on whatever _sacred authority_ they may rest, as matters of mere _human opinion_; and in a persuasion that the whole concern of government, of legislation, and of social order, may be conducted as if there were no MORAL RULER OF THE UNIVERSE controlling the destinies of men or of nations: no other responsibilities than those which subsist between man and man, unamenable to a higher tribunal. So long as these pernicious sentiments obtain currency amongst us, (and who will say that they do not fearfully prevail in every rank and every station?) it is impossible for any believer in a righteous Providence not to look on such a state of things with unwonted misgivings.” {116}

The statements as to the number, power, and malignity of the enemies of religion, made by these two Prelates, supply the powerfully sketched out line of a terrible picture, which becomes still more terrific when filled up with the details which may be derived from other sources. “There is another subject,” says an able writer, in the British Critic, “which gives us, we confess, more uneasiness, and becomes every day more difficult and painful, and that is the renewed and increasing efforts made by scoffers and infidels, not only in our country, but others, to profit by the disturbed state of the public mind, and to disseminate as widely as possible their infernal poison amongst the needy, the ignorant, and the profligate; at once goading them to cruel disorders and excess, and robbing them of all hope of an hereafter. It cannot be known, excepting to those who make it their business to enquire, what pains, and patience, and ingenuity, are now bestowed upon this accursed work. Infidel books, and infidel teachers, we have always had; but certainly there never was a moment when the art of corrupting the minds of the people was carried to so high a pitch, or exercised with so much effrontery; nor ever were the fruits of it so frightfully conspicuous. It is revolting to think of them, and it were a task to make the heart sick to detail them; but it may suffice to state, that besides the public discourses which are delivered almost daily by the great masters of the school in the Rotunda, and in other places amongst the crowded outskirts of the metropolis, _for the avowed specific purpose of advocating __the cause of infidelity_, it is a well known fact, that blasphemous and profane lectures are delivered three times a week, in the City itself, to large audiences of labourers and artizans, after their daily task is done, from each of whom a penny a piece is collected, under the head of infidel rent.

“Nor is the press behind-hand with them in their course: for whilst numerous hawkers and other emissaries scatter unsparingly in lanes and alleys their pennyworths of profanation, the great emporium blazons forth its more elaborate blasphemies with fresh spirit, in characters which those who run may read—a standing monument of its interminable hostility to the Gospel, and of the utter hopelessness of all legal measures to restrain it.”

Such was the account laid before the public in the beginning of this year, of a scheme, skilfully planned, and actively conducted, for corrupting the religious principles of the working population of the country, and thus paving the way for the ruin of social order, and the subversion of civil society. Since then the strong arm of the law has seized upon the arch infidel, but his murky den still remains: the Rotunda is said to be made the scene of more horrible impieties than ever; and the great work of teaching and disseminating infidelity, though more covertly, is equally extensively carried on.

We possess, then, certain information, supplied by these and various other distinguished writers, as to the two facts—the progress of a secret undermining of the influence of Christianity now going forward in the middle and higher classes of society; and in the lower, of an organized system of open and violent aggression, not merely upon the principles of religion, but the decencies of life. Surely this should fill with alarm and rouse to exertion all who fear God and love their country; for the preservation of the national faith is essential to the continuance of national and individual happiness and prosperity. Before, however, examining further into these frightful evils, and offering some suggestions as to the course believers should adopt, let an enquiry be made as to their probable influence upon the moral state of the great bulk of the people.

Degeneracy of public morals must always necessarily follow corruption of public principles. As soon might you expect to draw pure water from a polluted fountain, as virtuous actions from unsound principles. Remove the restraint of conscience, and what does man become? a fickle and wicked being, of wild passions, selfish feelings, and ungovernable appetites: he has lost the ruling principle which regulated and directed his actions; and thus resembles a boat without rudder or oars, tost upon a stormy sea, which, impelled in different directions as the winds, tides, or currents happen to prevail, possesses neither certainty of direction nor steadiness of course.

It is true, when the law of God ceases to be the rule of right, men profess to substitute for it the law of honour and the law of the land. But to ascertain the value of the law of honour as the guide of life, let some of the cases of daily occurrence be observed, in which the rights of hospitality have been abused with shameless unconcern, the confidence of friendship repaid with base ingratitude, and the dearest ties of life broken with base and heartless exultation, by men of honour. Words cannot express the load of deep, of agonizing woe, which the partial substitution of the law of honour for the law of God has inflicted upon this Christian land. Families, through it, have had to suffer privations from the extravagance, and poverty from the gambling of parents; to weep for the untimely death of a father by the hand of the duellist; to mourn and blush for the indelible stain of a mother’s shame.

Such are some of the terrible effects of the law of honour, as the guide of life, which, if it sanction not, tolerates the betrayal of innocence, the ruin of a family, and the murder of a fellow-creature.

Let an inquiry be now made into the value of the law of the land as a rule of right. Here the records of our courts of justice might suffice to shew, that severe laws do not deter from the commission of crime. This is as might be fairly calculated upon; because the fear of uncertain or distant punishment, will never operate as an effectual restraint upon an unprincipled mind: it is not, that the law is without its terrors to offenders, but it is, that under the influence of some powerful inducement, the salutary effect of those terrors is lost, from their being viewed at a distance, from the hope of escaping detection, and from the power of present temptation. These observations regard principally more heinous offences; but if the effect of the criminal code be found to be, that it operates more for the punishment than the prevention of crime, what would be the state of society, if the civil law was our great guide in transactions between man and man.

If careful only to keep within its enactments, we made inclination or interest our guide, where would be all the kind offices of Christian charity, where the interchange of friendly services, where the joys of Christian sympathy. Sad, indeed, would be the change, if, making the law of the land his sole rule of right, man, naturally weak, selfish, and sensual, gave the reins to his desires, and sought only his personal gratifications. There might, indeed, be some exceptions, but the general rule would be, “let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.” In illustration of this view of the probable effects of such a system upon society, let the case of a litigious man be supposed: what annoyance, what ill-will, what animosities, does his vexatious enforcement of the law, in the most minute particulars, often excite in a neighbourhood: but if, in addition to his being litigious, he be also irreligious,—if he be without a belief in a future state, a judgment to come, and final rewards or punishments—what a fearful aggravation of the evils at once takes place: suppose, however, further, that it is not the spirit, but the letter of the law he regards; nay, more, that it is only its punishments he fears; and that he breaks the law, whenever secrecy affords hope of escape, or the weakness of the party injured, chance of impunity: what a pest to society would he be!—And yet, however odious and disgusting the picture, such would the great bulk of mankind become, if they could be once brought to consider conscience a bug-bear, and Christianity an imposture.

What is it restrains appetites, the indulgence of which produces so much misery?—Christianity. What is it subdues the desire of revenge, which thirsts for blood?—Christianity. What is it arrests the course of secret crime?—Christianity. What is it expands the contracted views and wishes of selfishness, and unlocks the sympathies of cold uncharitableness?—Christianity. Have the law of honour, or the law of the land, power to produce such mighty effects? They even lay not claim to such a power. But the benefits of Christianity stop not here. It is true, its transforming power, when its hallowing influence is fully felt, is the grandest phenomenon of the moral world:—“the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt:” {123} but above the storm, a voice is heard—the command is uttered,—“Peace, be still!” the winds of passion are hushed, the waves of appetite subside, and a holy calm reigns in the mind and heart. Still, the power of Christianity, heaven’s best gift to man, produces other benefits. It heals all the wounds which physical and moral evils cause to poor human nature. It soothes the pain of sickness, it lightens the pressure of privation, it cheers the sorrows of affliction; and, at that awful hour, when human aid is unavailing, and when the soul, trembling on the brink of eternity, can repose only on the firm stay of eternal truth, it administers solid comfort, supplies pious confidence, and whispers holy peace.—A dying hour is a severe test of principles; and it is at that hour, which unmasks hypocrisy, and proves the weakness of philosophy, the power of genuine Christianity is clearly seen:—it is at that hour, when all the world seeks for as happiness, is found to be vanity, all it calls glory, fades into insignificance, its value is fully felt; it is at that hour, when a recollection of past sins, long forsaken and repented of, is present to the humble and contrite, and a consciousness of extreme unworthiness afflicts the soul which still confides in Jesus, its victory is complete.

Well might Bishop Watson ask Gibbon, “Suppose the mighty work accomplished, the cross trampled upon, Christianity every where proscribed, and the religion of nature once more become the religion of Europe; what advantage will you have derived to your country or to yourselves from the exchange?—I will tell you from what you will have freed the world; you will have freed it from its abhorrence of vice, and from every powerful incentive to virtue; you will, with the religion, have brought back the depraved morality of Paganism: you will have robbed mankind of their firm assurance of another life; and thereby you will have despoiled them of their patience, of their humility, of their charity, of their chastity, of all those mild and silent virtues which, (however despicable they may appear in your eyes) are the only ones which meliorate and sublime our nature; which Paganism never knew, which spring from Christianity alone.” {124} Nor does this able writer, in his Letters to Paine, state less clearly and forcibly the evils which the infidel school inflict upon society. “In accomplishing your purpose you will have unsettled the faith of thousands; rooted from the minds of the unhappy virtuous all their comfortable assurance of a future recompense; have annihilated, in the minds of the flagitious, all their fears of future punishment; you will have given the reins to the domination of every passion; and have thereby contributed to the introduction of the public insecurity, and the private unhappiness usually, and almost necessarily, accompanying a state of corrupted morals.” {125}

Would that the anti-christian school of this day could be induced to forego their unwearied exertions to make proselytes, by considering the poor substitute they have to offer for an holy faith, which is the hope of the prosperous, the consolation of the afflicted, the comfort of the sick, and the support of the dying! To man, who feels his want of some holy light to guide his erring steps, some blessed solace to cheer an aching heart, in a world of perplexity and woe, the infidel has nothing to offer but the laws, for the guidance of his public conduct, and for his internal monitor and comforter,—a poor philosophy. But what to teach him how to die? Nothing: for he has nothing to offer but the trite aphorisms of heathen philosophers. What to take away the fear of something after death? Nothing: for he who believes nothing which Christianity has revealed can know nothing of a state of future existence, uncognizable by unassisted reason.

Miserable men! the Christian mourns over the wilful blindness which, in the full blaze of the meridian sun, continues in darkness, a state which is but a faint emblem of “the blackness of darkness for ever.” Most guilty men! the Christian burns with holy indignation against their perverted and wicked zeal for proselytism, of whom it may be said, “Ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves.” {126} If the infidel reflects, what must be his state of mind, when he remembers, how often, whilst feeling the utter wretchedness of his dark and cheerless creed, he has sought with artful sophistry to bewilder the understandings of the ignorant, and, with cold heartlessness, to blast the hopes of the virtuous! He who openly stabs or secretly poisons an associate, incurs a less load of moral guilt than he who inflicts a wound or instils a poison, which, rankling, causes misery in this life, and in the next, anguish unutterable and interminable.

Fatal, however, as such a creed must be to the best interests of society, wherever its influence prevails, it assumes a still more alarming aspect as inculcated by those infidel teachers, who, disseminating their pestilent doctrines amongst our working population, not only seek to destroy all the hopes and fears of an hereafter, but to stimulate their evil passions, and to produce a contempt not less for human than Divine laws. If once principles so subversive of the civil and religious obligations of man, as a member of a Christian community, were allowed gradually to leaven the great mass of the population; not only would the cause of religion and morals be deeply injured, but eventually the altars of God would be overthrown, the bonds of civil society broken, and anarchy, spoliation, and bloodshed, reign through the land. With the great bulk of mankind, the sense of responsibility, present and future, is the great restraint upon their evil inclinations. Philosophers may talk of the eternal fitness of things, the beauty of virtue, the value of the distinctions of rank, of unequal divisions of property, and the necessity of order, subordination, and industry, for the well-being of society: but once remove from the minds of the lower classes their fear of punishment,—by destroying all belief in a future state of retribution, and all dread of the laws of the land, the execution of which they overawe, defeat, or defy, by their numbers,—and there will be confusion, aggression, outrage, and a general attack upon property. Constituted as man is by nature, and constituted as society is by law and custom, in a Christian country, as soon as Revelation is rejected by the great bulk of the people, the work of disorder and disorganization must be rapidly carried on, until the whole frame-work of society be broken up.

The grand principle by which society is held together, in a free country, is religious and moral influence controlling and directing physical force to the good of the whole community. Emancipate physical force from the salutary restraints and guidance by which its violence and turbulence are checked, and its mighty energies beneficially directed and employed, and the same results will ensue, as would occur, were that mighty engine,—the proudest boast of modern science,—the steam-engine, deprived of the nice adjustments and counterbalances which have rendered its formidable powers of easy, safe, and useful application. The frightful destruction which attends the explosion of a steam-engine, would be more than paralleled by the sudden rending asunder of the bands of society, when physical force, released from the government of religious and moral influence, bursts forth with the full sweep of its tremendous powers. Abstract principles, and philosophical theories, weigh not a feather with the great bulk of mankind, who are far more under the direction of their passions than their judgment. Suppose the case of one man rich,—and it may be, possessing more than he appears to require,—surrounded by many who are poor and needy. What prevents the many from plundering the one? not abstract principles of natural justice, not a philosophical respect for the rights of property, but regard for Divine and human laws: remove the restraints of conscience, and the fear of punishment, and the many poor will rush upon the rich few, like a pack of hungry wolves upon, scattered and defenceless sheep.

This admits of easy proof: it is an undeniable axiom in morals, that vice brings with it its own punishment; how then does it come to pass that it abounds to such a fearful extent in society? It needs not any very extensive acquaintance with life to return the answer, which appears to be the true one,—that where there is not religious principle the truths of morality are less powerful than the impulses of passion, and present gratification is willingly purchased, even at the expense of much after suffering. Suppose, then, both religion and morals discarded; and man left, not merely to the unrestrained indulgence of his evil passions, but those passions excited by intoxicating and maddening stimulants, what then would be the consequences? The heart sickens whilst the mind pictures to itself some of the frightful excesses, the horrible enormities, of which one man may be capable under such circumstances. Suppose, further, not one man only, but a large proportion of the labouring population of a country exposed to the artful and wicked devices of infidel and seditious demagogues, corrupting the principles, by profane and blasphemous writings; exciting angry and vindictive feelings by exaggerated or false tales of injustice and wrong; fostering hatred and malignity towards the rich, by representing them as the oppressors and robbers of the poor, by whose labour they live; and stimulating their natural cupidity and sensuality by hopes of plunder, of ease, and of enjoyment; what, then, would be the consequences? Let the history of France return the answer, for it is written in characters of blood, in her annals, when, through the influence of a party, at first small, and apparently contemptible, she became revolutionised, demoralised, unchristianised. Birth, rank, and wealth, were alone sufficient to expose their possessors to democratic violence and fury; when all laws, human and Divine, broken,—all institutions, civil and religious, overturned, regicide and apostate France subverted the throne, and trampled upon the cross; and the demons of disorder, spoliation, and butchery, stalked through her land, deluged with the best blood of her children.

The conclusion, then, at which the impartial and dispassionate enquirer will arrive,—a conclusion which has received the terrible sanction of experience,—is, that the most horrible consequences will result to society when physical force is released from the salutary restraints of religious and moral influence.

When unchristianised, man becomes a sort of demon: he riots in the licentiousness of his assumed freedom from obligations Divine and human; and if leagued in a diabolical conspiracy against religion, laws, and property,—against all that is virtuous, noble, and praiseworthy,—he is involved as he advances, deeper and deeper in danger and guilt; as the crisis approaches, he is impelled forward in his headlong career, with a rapidity which allows no time for reflection, with a force which defies resistance, until at last he is swallowed up in the wide ruin of universal tumult and disorder: like one who commits himself to the guidance of a stream, ignorant or regardless of the distant cataract, towards which it is flowing: borne along by its powerful current, he is, at first, delighted with his swift and unchecked progress, but as he proceeds, the rapidity and force of the stream fearfully increase, until at last, drawn within the full influence of the fall, he is swept along with tremendous violence towards the verge of precipitation, whence he shoots into the boiling gulf below—a gulf which is no unfit emblem of society, heaving, foaming, and roaring, under the domination of physical force.

Let not, however, the useful and awful lesson which the French revolution teaches be thus hastily dismissed: human nature is always the same, and similar causes will produce similar results, however modified by circumstances. A length of time was required in that country to sow the seeds of infidelity, but as soon as they had taken deep root in the public mind, their effects were apparent; their growth was as rapid as it was luxuriant, and they bore such a deadly crop as fills the mind with disgust and horror. Nor was the field of operation of the antichristian conspiracy confined to France, the great object of which was, every where to accomplish the defamation and discredit of the Christian religion, where it could not effect its entire overthrow.

Let the portrait, therefore, be examined which Bishop Horsley has supplied us with of those times, which must be still fresh in the recollection of some; it is drawn with the power and effect of a master in his art; would it were only interesting as a vivid sketch by a contemporary, of dangers passed away! it speaks even now with a warning voice to this country.

“The whole of Europe, with the exception of France only, and those miserable countries which France has fraternized, is yet nominally Christian: but for the last thirty years or more, we have seen in every part of it but little correspondence between the lives of men and their professions; a general indifference about the doctrines of Christianity; a general neglect of its duties; no reverent observance of its rites. The centre from which the mischief has spread is France. In that kingdom the mystery of iniquity began to work somewhat earlier than the middle of the century which is just passed away. Its machinations at first were secret, unperceived, disguised. Its instruments were persons in no conspicuous stations. But by the persevering zeal of an individual, who, by an affectation of a depth of universal learning which he never possessed—by audacity in the circulation of what he knew to be falsified history—by a counterfeit zeal for toleration; but above all, by a certain brilliancy of unprincipled wit, contrived to acquire a celebrity for his name, and a deference to his opinions, far beyond the proportion of what might be justly due either to his talents or attainments, though neither the one nor the other were inconsiderable;—by the persevering zeal, I say, of this miscreant, throughout a long, though an infirm and sickly life of bold active impiety, a conspiracy was formed of all the wit, the science, the philosophy, and the politics, not of France only, but of many other countries, for the extirpation of the Christian name. The art, the industry, the disguise, the deep-laid policy with which the nefarious plot was carried on; the numbers of all ranks and descriptions which were drawn in to take part in it—men of letters first, then magistrates, nobles, ministers of state, sovereign princes: last of all, the inferior ranks, merchants, attornies, bankers’ clerks, tradesmen, mechanics, peasants; the eagerness with which, under the direction of their chief, all these contributed their power, their influence, their ingenuity, their industry, their labour, in their respective situations and occupations in life, to the advancement of the one great object of the confederacy, are facts that are indeed astonishing.” {134a}

“The success of this vast enterprise of impiety was beyond any thing that could have been expected by any but the first projector, from the littleness of its beginnings.” {134b} “The apostacy of the French nation, and the subversion of the Gallican Church, however unexpected at the time in Europe, was not a sudden event: it was not one of those spontaneous revolutions in public opinion which are to be traced to no definite beginning, to no certain cause: it was not the effect of any real grievance of the people, proceeding as hath been falsely pretended, from the rapacity and the ambition of their clergy: it was the catastrophe and accomplishment of a premeditated plot—a plot conceived in mere malice, carried on with steady, unrelenting malignity, for half a century.” {134c}

Such is the account which one of the ablest writers England ever produced has left behind him, of the origin and progress of a conspiracy against Christianity, the effects of which he also witnessed in this country, but by the blessing of God on the labours of himself and others, lived to see happily counteracted. There is much, it is true, which does not correspond with the aspect of the present times; with which, however, a very superficial acquaintance will satisfy every enquiring mind that there is also much which applies to them too well. It is not likely that the operations of infidelity will be precisely the same at different periods, though the object remains unaltered: still even in their plans and machinery, there will often be found great resemblance. The infidel scheme in France was commenced by men of letters; in this country at present, its most open and fierce advocates are amongst the low and half-educated classes: still we have seen that in the middle and higher classes there is gaining ground not “a direct attack on the evidences of Christianity or on the value of its doctrines;” but “the distinctive character of modern unbelief is the attempt to supersede Christianity, and to make men moral without its guiding and restraining influence.” {135} There is here a much greater resemblance than might be at first supposed, between the two plans of operation, now and at the close of the last century. The attack was then made with the most masterly skill: care was taken that the prejudices of education, as they were considered, should at first be treated with tenderness; and the way gradually prepared for the reception of opinions, which, if at once presented to the uncorrupted mind, would have been rejected with horror. To use an illustration in perfect accordance with their views, the light of impiety was to be gradually let in upon an eye, which had long been clouded by the cataract of superstition, lest it should prefer the darkness of error to the full blaze of truth. We find, therefore, no premature development of immoral and impious doctrines: superstition, bigotry, intolerance, were strongly condemned; clerical abuses and exactions fiercely inveighed against; but pure religion and morality were commended. “In this country,” writes Horseley, “I believe they know very well that bold undisguised atheism, proceeding directly and openly to its horrid purpose, will never be successful. They must have recourse, therefore, to cautious stratagem; they must pretend that their object is not to demolish, but reform: and it was with a view of giving colour to this pretence, that the impudent lie—for such I have proved it to be—has been propagated in this country of their reverence for pure Christianity, and for the Reformation.” But there was one invariable feature of all their proceedings, never lost sight of, a rancorous and malignant hostility to the established Church; and unwearied exertions “to alienate the minds of the people from the established clergy, by representing them as sordid worldlings, without any concern about the souls of men, indifferent to the religion which they ought to teach, to which the laity are attached, and destitute of the Spirit of God.” {137a} Here, then, we have a direct parallel between those times and the present, in which, indeed, the balance of evil is against us, for, “the Church of England,” observes a living prelate, {137b} “never, perhaps, hitherto has had to contend with so great a number of open and avowed enemies; who, in their reiterated and persevering attacks, stop short of no misrepresentations, however flagrant, which tend to hold it up to public scorn and indignation.”

After making every allowance, indeed, for the popular excitement, which may be of only temporary duration; for the resentful feelings, which may pass away with the occasion which has excited them; still there remains sufficient to justify the worst apprehensions, and to demand the most strenuous exertions at counteraction of the friends of order and religion. It is not merely that there is a want of veneration, love and value for the Church; but a rancorous hatred, spurred on by eager desire of spoliation, is manifested, wherever infidel teachers have made proselytes to their wicked creed. Respect, also, for constituted authorities, is destroyed, by their inculcating the audacious falsehood, that civil government has been framed, to enable the few to rule the many. Value for the laws has been lessened, by their declaring, there is one law for the rich, and another for the poor. And the bonds of affection and kind offices, which united the pastor and the parishioner, the landlord and the tenant, have been almost every where weakened, and in some places broken, by more than the base insinuation, by the assertion, that the forbearance and kindness shown, originate not in friendly regard and Christian charity, but in the ignoble wish of buying golden opinions,—in the pusillanimous desire of propitiating men roused to a sense of their injuries,—of disarming of their angry passions men panting for retaliation and revenge. Thus the force of the public and social obligations of life has been impaired, and those kind ties and sympathies, which bind man to man in their several relations, are converted by the poison of infidel principles, into food for malignant feelings, which inwardly rankle in the heart, and which outwardly evince themselves by discontent, distrust, and dislike; and when the opportunity presents itself, by violence, aggression, and outrage. The effects of such a state of things, if not counteracted, cannot be contemplated, without the most painful apprehension, for, as it has been powerfully expressed, “fatal must be the consequences, if the monstrous fiends of blasphemy and disorganization now going about seeking whom they may devour, and stalking openly through the land, with menace and defiance, be suffered to take undisturbed possession of our peasants and artificers, or of those on whom they immediately depend for their support.”

We have already seen the system of extensive combinations carried on in defiance of the laws;—organized bands and tumultuous assemblages of peasantry, extorting money, and enforcing their demands with threats of violence;—wanton destruction of property, in the breaking of machinery, in attacks upon private houses, and in the far more horrible crime of the nocturnal incendiary;—violence and excesses in many towns;—and riot, pillage, and arson, defying for some days, in a great city, municipal authorities and military force.

Now when all these fearful evils are viewed in connection with the general increase of crime, more particularly of juvenile delinquency; with the abuse and profanation of the sabbath, and neglect of the public ordinances of religion, and with the unsound views in faith and morals which extensively prevail—the shades of the gloomy picture gradually darken. But it is capable of receiving some further tints, and then the moral state of the kingdom, which has been studiously kept as far as possible distinct from the political, will stand forth, it is believed, under such an appalling aspect as to satisfy men, of all parties, of the necessity of prompt and vigorous exertion, of strong and efficient remedies. Amongst the great body of the people have sprung up contempt for antiquity, disregard for established usages, disrespect for rank, love of innovation, clamorous discontent, and fierce desire of change, which impel them forward with blind and presumptuous confidence in their own wisdom, and with reckless indifference as to what may be the consequences of their precipitation and rashness. The public press, which exercises a fearful despotism—and political leaders, whose authority is scarcely less absolute—urge forward an already over-excited people, instead of attempting to allay the rising storm which threatens to involve all in the common ruin of social order, public property, and national credit.

The urgent importance of the question, What is to be done? cannot but force itself upon the attention of the most supine—of the most indifferent to their country’s safety and welfare; and surely only one answer can be returned—repair any injuries which time may have caused to the goodly edifice of the Church, or to the fair fabric of the Constitution, striving, at the same time, by a general diffusion of true religion, sound learning, and useful knowledge, to secure the eradication of heretical and infidel opinions, and the reformation of public morals; and by the blessing of God, the storm will pass away, and leave the Church and Constitution unscathed. True Christian wisdom revolts from any concession of principle, but not less so from any defence of error; it yields not to popular clamour and threats in matters of duty, but it thankfully receives the admonition given in the spirit of kindness, and profits even by the warning of an enemy, to remove any slight blemishes, which, affecting not the foundation of the Church built on a rock, appear externally, and tempt the rash and rude hand of bold and unhallowed reparation.

It is the height of political wisdom to know when to refuse, and when to concede popular claims. To refuse just claims is equally wicked and unwise; it is not only an act of injustice, as debarring the people from their rights, but it destroys confidence and respect—it produces fierce discontent, exasperation, and vindictiveness towards their rulers; and, in the end, if the claimants be powerful, that is extorted as a right which was first asked as a boon. To concede unfounded claims is equally weak and unwise; it stimulates the eager and grasping spirit of demand, it rarely conciliates for the time, but never satisfies; it causes that unsettled expecting and excited state of the public mind so unfavourable to national contentment, happiness, and prosperity; and if the system be long continued—and every new concession, by weakening the strength of the yielding party, will make it more difficult to change the system—security after security, privilege after privilege having been surrendered, the petitioners will become the framers of the laws—the claimants, the dispensers of privileges—the governed, the governing power in the kingdom. At the awful crisis at which we have arrived it is the bounden duty of all men to forget party distinctions, to divest themselves of party spirit, to have no object in view but the honour of God and the general good. Let, therefore, the claims of the people be dispassionately and impartially weighed; not, however, abstractedly, but with relation to the general good; and let these claims be conceded so far as they may be granted consistently with the rights of property, the integrity of the constitution, the interests of religion, and the welfare of the empire. And having made every concession which justice demands, and which the real interests not only of the claimants, but of society at large, sanction, let the whole energies of government and the nation be directed to crushing the seditious and blasphemous associations which are actively employed in exciting discontent and insubordination, and in corrupting the principles of our agricultural and manufacturing population; and let every means be employed to calm the agitation of the public mind—to restore it to that peaceful, healthful, and contented state, which once so much distinguished the people of England.

To effect, however, this great object, the co-operation of that mighty engine of good or evil—the public press, is essential. When the information, the talent, the eloquence, which are so conspicuous in many of our leading journals are considered, we cease to wonder at the immense influence they possess over the public mind; for partly through indolence, partly through ignorance, a large proportion of men are disposed to adopt, without examination, opinions which come recommended by the authority of a name they have been accustomed to respect and value. How beneficial, then, would be the consequences to society, if the public press would use more moderation; if instead of swelling the storm which is raging through the land, it would pour oil upon the heaving and troubled waters; if, instead of advocating the interests of a party, the public good was made of paramount importance. It is melancholy to observe the pernicious influence of party spirit upon the public press of this country: it is not only that it excites rancour and bitterness of feeling, but even truth, viewed through the medium of its jaundiced eye, appears like falsehood—beauty, like deformity—virtue, like vice. Of this we have at present a too complete proof in the misrepresentations, the misstatements, the calumnies, which have been directed against the Established Church. The writers cannot be so ignorant as not to know the charges are substantially false,—they cannot be so dishonest as to give circulation to what they know to be untrue, and therefore, as they publish the most false and calumnious allegations against the Clergy, it can only be, that the mists of party distort objects,—the prejudices of party misconstrue motives,—the spirit of party perverts facts. Let it not be said that the liberty of the press has degenerated into such licentiousness, that many public journals have willingly and premeditatedly been guilty of the monstrous wickedness of traducing and vilifying, and holding up to public scorn and reprobation, the Clergy of the Established Church, but rather that, under the delirium of a political fever, they have unconsciously loaded with unmerited opprobrium, and most unjustly held up to public odium, the Clergy, who, as a body, are distinguished for their talents, their learning, their piety, and their zeal in their Great Master’s holy cause.

A deep debt of justice remains due to the Established Church; and to the sense of right, and to the good feelings of those who have joined in the cry against it, this appeal is made. There is not any disposition on the part of the Clergy to ask for undue favour or commendation:—no wish, that abuses, if they exist, should be spared,—that delinquency, if any case occur, should escape punishment. But they protest against the manifest injustice with which they have been treated. The most extravagant over-statements of a few valuable appointments have been industriously circulated, as a proof of excessive and overgrown wealth, whilst the poverty of some high dignities, and a large proportion of benefices, has been studiously kept back; the failings and offences of a few individuals, under every form of exaggeration and perversion, have been dwelt and enlarged upon with evident satisfaction, whilst no just meed of praise has been bestowed upon the body, to which rather the censure, due only to some few members, has ingeniously, but wickedly, been made to attach. All which misrepresentations apparently have in view one object,—that the charges of excessive wealth and extreme worthlessness may stimulate and justify spoliation and subversion. And yet no angry recriminations, scarcely any indignant remonstrances, have issued from the injured party: when they have spoken, it has been in the calm language of conscious rectitude; and the great body have forborn to reply to insult and invective, relying on the goodness of their cause, to which they feel assured the people of England will, sooner or later, do full justice. If aught could soften the harsh severity, could shame the cruel injustice with which the Clergy have been censured, vilified, and persecuted, surely it should be the Christian meekness and patience with which they have borne the heavy load of wrong that has been cast upon them. Full many there are who, unmoved by clamour, unprovoked by injuries, and unappalled by dangers, are pursuing the even tenor of their way, in the diligent and faithful discharge of their sacred duties. But silence under grievous charges is often interpreted into an admission of their truth, and meekness under heavy reproaches a proof of their justice. There are times, therefore, when the Clergy should raise their voice in self-vindication; not merely for their own sakes, but that of their flocks; for if they allow their office to be degraded, and their characters aspersed, without maintaining the one and defending the other, their influence will be seriously weakened, and their usefulness, in the same degree, diminished. Hence it has ever been the artful policy of the infidel school to attack religion through her ministers; and such is the course which is adopted now, and those ministers will aid and abet the cause of the enemies of their faith, if they repel not the darts which are meant to reach, through their bodies, the altars of their God. And would that that portion of the press, which has long assailed the Clergy with much unmerited severity and abuse, could be persuaded to make a tardy reparation for the wrong they have done,—for the injury they have inflicted on society! The public journals now reach the remotest corners of the island; and in many distant parishes, in which the incumbent alone spends the income drawn from the soil, alone dispenses his charity, visits the sick, instructs the ignorant,—even there the blighting influence of calumny extends, and the work of Christian benevolence and charity is neutralized by the splenetic effusions, or foul and false charges of the public press. Oh! that the awful circumstances of the present times would teach forbearance, if not justice,—would induce silence, if not commendation. If they love not religion for its own sake,—if they respect not its ministers for their own sake,—let the value of both be admitted in stemming that fearful tide of sedition and infidelity which threatens to overturn the civil as well as religious institutions of the country. And there is another consideration not to be forgotten: in times of pestilence, the ministers of God have ever proved faithful to their trust, and a blessing to the sick and dying: that scourge of the Almighty is now upon the land; let the press then seek to heal the breach they have made between the pastor and his flock, lest by the baleful suspicions and hatred they have caused in the minds of the latter, they may be the means of intercepting the stream of Divine mercy,—of darkening the light of Divine truth.

Vain will be all the efforts of the friends of religion and order to counteract the present evils, which endanger the best interests of society, and to introduce a better order of things, if a large proportion of the public journals continue not only to excite the public mind, but to prejudice it against the Clergy, by imputing to them unworthy motives, and by bringing against them heavy and unsubstantiated charges. In many places at present, the plans of the Clergyman for the benefit of his parish are entirely frustrated; a large proportion of his parishioners being like men labouring under a fever caused by injudicious treatment,—the wholesome aliment, which would give nourishment and strength in a healthy state, injures rather than benefits; and even the medicines which should cure the disease are rejected, through distrust of the physician who prescribes them. But let those who have injured the patient, by supplying stimulants when they should have administered sedatives, by exciting suspicion when they should have inspired confidence, endeavour to repair the evil they have produced, and then the ministers of the Great Physician of souls will recover their proper influence, and will be able beneficially to exercise their important functions.

It is impossible to estimate the advantage of the ministerial office to society, until the aggregate of the services of men, who have all their allotted field of action throughout the kingdom, be well weighed. Let any one examine minutely into the benefit which one parish receives from a resident incumbent, who faithfully discharges the duties of his office; and if all do not so, it is the fault of the individual, and not of the system:—let him observe, not merely the general advantage derived by all from the residence amongst them of a well informed and well conducted man,—at once the scholar, the gentleman, and the Christian,—but of one who is the authorized medium through which abuses are to be checked and corrected, vice discountenanced and reproved, virtue encouraged and rewarded, relief administered to distress, instruction to ignorance, comfort to sorrow, and the light of the Gospel diffused amongst all,—its offers addressed to all, its consolation imparted to all. Then let him attempt to calculate the amount of instruction conveyed through “the alacrity, the zeal, the warm-heartedness which the Established Clergy have manifested for the education of the poor;” {149} of comfort derived by suffering in its hour of need and sorrow, from its faithful pastor; and of benefit imparted to all, either directly or indirectly, either temporally or spiritually, by the appointed and responsible teachers of the Gospel, throughout the parishes in the kingdom. And then let him form a judgment as to what degree of confidence is to be placed in the wisdom, what sense of obligation is to be entertained for the services,—_not of those_ who are labouring with _earnest_ diligence to “feed the flock over which the Holy Ghost has made them overseers,”—_of those_ who by impoverishing the Clergy would deprive them of the means of affording temporal assistance to the poor and needy; and by calumniating the Clergy would impede the discharge and frustrate the efficacy of their spiritual ministrations. Alas! it is because the full value of the quiet and unobtrusive labours of all ranks in the Church is so little known by those who are actively engaged in public life, that plans are devised, which, possessing some plausibility, and coming recommended with much eloquence, are eagerly embraced by many, who would indignantly reject them were they aware that, if adopted, they would injure the present and endanger the eternal welfare of millions. As men, as statesmen, and as Christians, let all who have inconsiderately joined in the cry against the Church forbear, until they have ascertained for themselves, by minute and impartial investigation, whether it is as wealthy and proud, as grasping and worldly, as bigoted and intolerant, as intermeddling and domineering, as inefficient and corrupt, as its enemies have represented it to be. Could it be proved to be such, every sincere Christian, whether cleric or laic, would at once say, free it from the abuses which disgrace its character and impair its efficiency. But of the charges brought against it, the large proportion originate in the hostility, hatred, and malignity of its enemies; there may be some defects, but they are incidental, not inherent, and are at present occupying the deep and anxious attention of the heads of the establishment, who are most desirous to correct whatever may limit the influence or lessen the usefulness of that pure and reformed branch of the Church of Christ established in this kingdom.

If the enemies of the Church, who profess to be the friends of mankind, are sincere, as we are bound to consider them, in the expression of their wish to benefit their fellow-men, they must not impede the operation of an establishment which every where diffuses a knowledge of that Gospel, the salutary influence of which extends through society, as the only cure of the ills to which flesh is heir. They may closely watch and severely scrutinize the proceedings of the Church; but, as men and Christians, they are bound to do it justice, and give it their support as a powerful agent, in lightening the load of misery which too often exists in this commercial country to a frightful extent. “Compare,” says the present Bishop of Chester, “compare the ignorant and unreflecting peasant, who moves in the same dull, and too often sinful track, with no ideas beyond the ground he treads upon, the sensual indulgences which he gratifies, and the day that is passing over his head;—compare him with his enlightened neighbour, nay, with himself, if happily he becomes enlightened, when he follows the same path of active industry, but makes it a path towards his heavenly Father’s kingdom;—and then perceive, by a visible example, what the grace of God effects through the agency of man; or take a case, too common, alas! too familiarly known to many who hear me. Take the case of those who see their occupation sinking from under them; their means of support annually decreasing, and little prospect of its melioration. Suppose that the views of these, and such as these, are bounded by this present world, what can they be but unhappy, restless, discontented; defying God, and murmuring at man; distressing the philanthropist, because he sees no comfort left to them; distressing the statesman, because he can devise no remedy for their relief; above all, distressing the Christian, who sees the future prospect far darker than the present gloom? Suppose the case of one thus circumstanced, having no hope beyond this world; and then contemplate the change which would be produced, if any of the means by which grace is communicated to the heart should inspire the same person with the principles and the faith of the Gospel; converting him from whatever is evil in his ways, and thus removing all the accumulation which sin adds to poverty: reconciling him to hardships and privations as the intended trial of his faith, the lot of many of God’s most approved servants; and lighting up the darkness of this world by the rays which precede that which is to come, the earnest of a brighter dawn.”