break their connexion with it, there is little doubt but they would make a majority of the subjects. Besides, all who are not Dissenters must not, therefore, be numbered among the proper adherents of the Established Church. The great mass of them have no preference for it, but because it is the Established Church; and no observing person can doubt but that if Mr. Lindsey's Unitarian Liturgy should be patronized by government, and a few of the more zealous of the clergy should not sound the alarm, not one person in a hundred would make any complaint of it. Still less can those who attend no public worship at all, who abound in the highest and lowest classes of the community, be fairly reckoned to belong to any church; and in all large manufacturing and commercial towns, in which consist the great resources of the nation, they who attend public worship of any kind bear but a small proportion to the rest. In Birmingham, at least, sixty thousand out of seventy are of this class; and of the remainder, more persons attend public worship out of the parish churches than in them.* In many parts of South Wales, and especially in the diocese of St. David's, I am informed that the parish churches are almost deserted, while the meeting-houses are numerous and full. In fact, therefore, the true interest of the Church of England in the whole empire is not great. It has but little hold on the minds of the people; and is supported by other means than a cordial approbation of it and attachment to it. Her dependance is not upon herself, but upon the mere will and power of the crown,† which may change to-morrow. It, therefore, certainly does not become her to be insolent. In this state of things, also, it is certainly the best policy in the crown to favour toleration rather than persecution, and to convince every part of the empire, divided as the inhabitants of it are with respect to religion, that no difference of this kind will have any influence in civil matters. But at present this country, which used to pride herself, and with reason, on her pre-eminence with respect to liberty, is far behind many other nations of Europe, to say nothing of America, and discovers a disposition to recede, rather than to advance, with respect to liberty, civil or religious. See supra, p. 279. According to the Act of Settlement, the crown can only be enjoyed by a Protestant of the Church of England, to which George I., on the death of Queen Anne, was immediately converted from Lutheranism. Thus the Church seems to depend on the Parliament, rather than on the Crown, though this has now become little more than a nominal distinction. SECTION X. The Conclusion, containing Reflections on the Power of Religion in general. I SHALL close these Reflections with some relating to religion properly so called, as it has its seat in the mind, and influences the temper and conduct; and with these I particularly wish to impress my Christian readers. Other persons do not need to proceed any farther, as what follows will to them be like something in an unknown tongue. Having had a religious education, and originally a delicate constitution, I had from my early years a thoughtful and serious turn of mind. I have also ever been particularly attentive to histories of persecution, and the state of men's minds in those trying circumstances. This will appear from my publications. Several of my printed Discourses relate to this subject, much of my Church History (much more than is usual in works of that extent) is appropriated to narratives of that kind, and I made a separate re-publication, with a large Preface, of " An Account of the Sufferings of two eminent French Protestants, Monsieur Marolles and Isaac le Fevre."* Having myself experienced something that may be called persecution, on account of the freedom of my religious principles, in my first settlement, † and having since that time. had much experience in religious controversy, mere reproach, however atrocious, never affected me much; much less I believe than it does most other persons; and of late years, I can truly say, that it is as nearly as possible a matter of perfect indifference to me, from whatever quarter it has come. Of sufferings of this kind it is probable that few men have ever had a greater share, almost every possible kind of evil having been said of me, though falsely. But the reproach of enemies has been more than compensated by the warm approbation and attachment of friends, of which also I have had my full share, enough to encourage any man to persevere in well-doing, and even to bear any sufferings on that account. But though I had read and reflected much on the feelings of Christians in a state of persecution, and never doubted *See Vol. IX. p. 19; X. pp. 291, 446-461. but that, in ordinary cases, their joys far exceeded their sorrows, I could not know that they did so to the degree in which I can truly, and I hope without much vanity, (for in this I mean nothing but the instruction and encouragement of my readers,) say that I have lately found it. It is only in trying situations that the full force of religious principle is felt, and that its real energy can shew itself. And firmly believing, from the doctrine of Philosophical Necessity, that the hand of God is in all events; that in all cases men are only his instruments; that under his sure guidance all evil will terminate in good; and that nothing so effectually promotes any good cause, by drawing men's attention to it, as the persecution of its advocates; all that I have suffered, and all that I can suffer, has, in many seasons of the calmest reflection upon it, appeared as nothing, and less than nothing. I consider this persecution, (for so I shall call it, though my enemies will, of course, consider it as the punishment of my evil deeds, and even much less than I deserve,) let it be carried to what extent it will, as a certain prognostic of the prevalence of every great truth for which I have contended; and this prospect, together with the idea of my being an instrument in the hand of Providence of promoting the spread of important truth, by suffering as well as by acting, has given me at times such exalted feelings of devotion, (mixed, as sentiments of devotion ever will be, with the purest good-will towards all men, my bitterest enemies not excepted,) as I had but an imperfect idea of before. If the future peace of the country and the safety of my friends did not require it, I would not have a single sacrifice made to public justice. Both the instigators of the late violences, and their blind agents in them, should go without any other punishment than what, if they ever come to a just sense of things, they will sufficiently inflict upon themselves. Admitting that our persecutors really imagined that they were doing right, and promoting the cause of truth, in their late outrages, yet the feelings of the man who does an injury, with whatever view, cannot be without a mixture of malevolence, in consequence of his rejoicing in that injury; a sentiment unworthy of a Christian, and by which he will feel his mind debased. Whereas the sentiments of the purest benevolence easily mix with those of devotion in the mind of the man who unjustly suffers the injury, and who is satisfied that he is promoting the cause of truth, and consequently the best interests of mankind, by his sufferings. When, since my late disaster, I have given scope to such reflections as these, I have had sensations of joy and ex ultation which I should in vain attempt to describe; and in general they have immediately succeeded the most lively sense that I ever had of the injury done me. What I have suffered in my person is in a manner nothing, and with respect to all the common wants of nature, I have had such resources in my friends, and in those whom I did not before know to be my friends, as few persons in my situation could have found. But corporeal sufferings are not those which give men the greatest anguish. Mental uneasiness is much more dreadful than bodily pain; and the despondency of some friends, the sufferings to which others of them may be exposed, and the marks of prejudice in some whom I had not considered as enemies, have sometimes given me feelings peculiarly unpleasant. Also, the idea of my not being able, at my time of life, to replace my papers, library and apparatus; the interruption of all my pursuits, and the uncertainty of my future prospects, cannot but sometimes be painful to me. But notwithstanding this, when I have attended to the considerations before-mentioned, I have even been able to rejoice that I had so much to lose; since without some sacrifice of this nature, I should not, in reality, have sustained any loss at all, and consequently should have had nothing to boast of. This, I own, is a sentiment that is not of the most exalted nature, but I hope it is innocent; and as part of my real feelings, not improper to be mentioned, among my other sources of consolation. So fully am I persuaded that more good than evil will result from what has happened to me, that, were it in my power, I would not be restored to my former situation. Had the late events not happened, I should, of course, have wished, and prayed, for continuing as I was; for no man, I believe, ever thought himself more happily situated than I did. But Providence having now declared itself, I acquiesce, and even rejoice in the decision. As to the theological works which I had in view, one of which was to trace the origin, and ascertain the nature, of Ancient Idolatry, in order to demonstrate the value of revelation; another, to continue my Church History to the present times; a third, to publish my Notes and a Paraphrase on the New Testament;* and a fourth, to complete what I had undertaken of the New Translation of the Scriptures,† I con * See Vols. XIII, XIV. † See Vol. XVII. pp. 135, 581–533. clude, either that these works were not wanted, or that they will be better done by other hands. If life and the proper means be continued to me, I shall resume, at least, some of them, as well as my philosophical experiments; and if not, I shall console myself with this verse of Milton ; "They also serve, who only stand and wait." I am ready and willing to labour, and to the utmost of my ability, whenever my task shall be given me. I hope also that I shall not be much condemned for deriving some consolation from the thought, that though my library and apparatus be destroyed, I made some considerable use of them while I had them, and therefore that I have not lived in vain. Of this consolation my enemies cannot deprive me; nor, if my life be continued, and my affairs be in any measure re-established, will any thing that I have yet suffered, damp my ardour in fresh pursuits; and having the advantage of years and experience, I may yet live to serve, not my country in particular, but mankind, and the world, of which I am now become more a citizen at large. As to continuance of life, I was never very anxious about it. My writings shew that I do not consider death in itself as any great evil; and a violent death, which is all that men can inflict, is not, in general, so much to be dreaded as many diseases. Persecution is not to be courted by any Christian. Death is never to be sought, but to be avoided; and no man can tell how he shall behave in any very new and trying situation. But I trust that the same principles which have supported me hitherto will carry me through any trials that may yet remain for me. I have often amused myself and my friends, with recounting my several migrations, which, though never of my own seeking, have been more numerous than those of any of my acquaintance; when I always said that, having now obtained a happier situation in all respects than I ever had before, I hoped I should never remove any more, and that I did not even wish to be, in any respect, happier than I was, in this world. In every change of situation, I used to say, the difficulty of my removing had been increased by the accumulation of my books and philosophical instruments; but that, at Birmingham, my library and apparatus were become so considerable, that it was absolutely impossible for me ever to remove to any other place. But now I am light enough, and can move with more ease than ever, ready, at a moment's warning, to go wherever it shall please Divine Providence to call me. |