Part 1

Transcribed from the 1805 J. Hatchard edition by David Price, email [email protected], using scans from the British Library.

[Picture: Pamphlet cover]

A LETTER TO A _COUNTRY CLERGYMAN_, OCCASIONED BY HIS ADDRESS TO _LORD TEIGNMOUTH_, PRESIDENT OF THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN BIBLE SOCIETY.

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BY _A SUB-URBAN CLERGYMAN_.

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“Unum gestit interdum, ne _ignorata_ damnetur.”—TERTULL. APOL.

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LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. HATCHARD, BOOKSELLER TO HER MAJESTY, NO. 190, OPPOSITE ALBANY HOUSE, PICCADILLY.

1805.

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A LETTER, &c.

REV. SIR,

ONE of those good-natured friends with which the world abounds, took an early opportunity of conveying to my hands a copy of your Address to Lord Teignmouth as President of the British and Foreign Bible Society; and I can really assume you, that its effect upon my nerves was almost as great as that which his Lordship’s circular letter produced upon yours. “The emotions of my mind,” too, “upon the receipt of it, were such as I am not inclined, for several reasons, to describe.” {1}

You must know, Sir, that it had been my fortune to fall into the same ugly snare as the worthy Nobleman whose eyes you have so graciously endeavoured to open. I too had been drawn into the horrid Bible-plot, without dreaming that there was any plot in the business; and, to tell you the honest truth, before your pamphlet reached me, I had actually lent all the name I possessed, and all the money I could spare, in order to assist in carrying its designs into execution.

Judge then, Sir, what must have been my feelings upon learning from you, that our Noble President, instead of being, as I thought, most loyally, usefully, and religiously employed, had “bestowed his patronage and protection upon every description of the church’s enemies;” that he had deserted “the cause of sound religion;” and that he was actually “confederating with persons openly labouring the destruction of all that is sober and established.” {2}

The inference was too much against me to leave me at rest. I called to my recollection, how prone the world is to say, “like master, like man;” and in the first paroxysms of my fear, had half a mind to send a line to the Secretary, and request that my name might be withdrawn. This seemed, however, too strong a measure to be adopted in so early a stage of the business; besides, though I could not wholly suppress my alarms, yet I had some little scruple about proclaiming them publicly to the world. In these moments of irresolution, it occurred to my mind, that you might perhaps, without any malicious design, have overstated the mischief; that the evils which you predicted as likely to follow from this unhallowed project, might in reality have nothing to do with it; and that, at all events, your frightful statement exhibited only _one side_ of the case. Perhaps, thought I, some “liberal-basis’d” {3a} gentleman will overthrow this high-church reasoning, and try to bring this bilious Country Priest to a better temper: I may then be inclined to wish, that I had paid less homage to that ex-parte evidence by which he sought to discredit a noble cause.

Unluckily for me, the printers had scarcely struck off the large impression of your Address, when they came to a resolution to print nothing further. {3b} Now though I did not suspect any confederacy in the business, yet I could not help thinking that _you_ were much obliged to them. However that may be, it was evidently in vain to wait for Replies: if fifty had been written (and I suppose that at least as many were expected), not one could find its way before the public. At length I hit upon a project; and what do you think it was? But _you_ would be the last to guess. It was that of _reading your pamphlet over again_. I had observed that the birds in my garden who were scared away by the first sight of my man-of-straw, would, after a second view, pursue their instinctive robberies with as much composure as if they had really discovered how little mischief he could do them. I was pleased with the thought, and anticipated much the same consequences. Well, Sir, I made the experiment; and the event, I assure you, exceeded my highest expectation. I rose from the _second_ reading of your Address with feelings so different from those of conviction or alarm, that if I did not think it would ruffle a temper so irritable as yours, I could almost find it in my heart to tell you what they were. However, as I shall have occasion to speak my mind pretty freely in the course of this Letter, you will have no difficulty in discovering what I ultimately thought both of you and your performance.

But now, Sir, to business. You open your Address to Lord Teignmouth with a preamble, which sets forth, that you are “not inclined, for several reasons, to describe the emotions of your mind upon the receipt of his Lordship’s Address, as President of the British and Foreign Bible Society.” There is an air of mystery in these words, which recommended them strongly to my notice; and if you do me the favour to turn back to my first page, you will find that I have employed them as you have done, _in fronte operis_. I am, however, upon reflection, inclined to think that “there is,” to use your own words upon another occasion, “more of sound than sense” in this affectation of reserve on both sides. For, to say the truth, I have already revealed _my_ emotions, and I am sure you have taken no pains to conceal _yours_: and yet it must be manifest that if each of us had not been _inclined_ to do it, neither of us would have done it. However, the preamble has its use; for it invites the reader to believe, that we are both of us men of peace and charity, and very unwilling to injure the feelings and reputation of our neighbour: an assumption which, in your case, it was the more necessary to make; as otherwise the reader of your pages might, innocently enough, have concluded the reverse.

This brief exordium dispatched, you enter, pell-mell, upon the matter of your indictment, and prefer your charges against the Noble Lord with as little ceremony, as if you had borrowed the robes of his Majesty’s Attorney General, and were prosecuting the Noble delinquent at the suit of the Crown. But let us hear the accusation opened. His Lordship (you say), by taking the presidency of the Bible Society, has “bestowed his patronage and protection upon every description of the church’s enemies.” Now here I doubt the accuracy of your representation: I am strongly inclined to think that you do not mean to affirm quite so much as you say. The church’s enemies are so numerous, and some of them so little known, that I think it very probable many descriptions could be mentioned, which have never obtained a place in your enumeration. I have _your_ authority for setting down all the individuals who dissent from the church’s communion as her decided enemies, for they wish to a man to blow up the national establishment, “clergy and all:” you know they do—“_one_ of them said” so. Such evidence as this, to be sure, must not for a moment be questioned; though I should have thought better of it, if your informer had shown his instructions for saying so much in the name of the rest. But if I concede to you that _these_ are the church’s enemies, I cannot admit, what I suspect you wish to imply, that these are the _only_ enemies with which she has to contend. What think you of “those men of influence and consideration, who continue to revile the church, and still think proper to remain nominal members of her community?” {6a} Into what class do you throw those “men of the world, who, in their sober moments, think it more creditable to be accounted members of our venerable church, than a subscriber to the meeting-house?” {6b} And lastly, where do you place those partisans, whether priests or laymen, who, while they contend for the church as the “chaste spouse of Christ,” {6c} confound most unwittingly both her pretensions and her character, with those by which that spiritual harlot is known, who has committed fornication with the kings of the earth? {6d} For my part, I recognise among such _false friends_ as the two first descriptions, and such _injudicious __advocates_ as the last, some of those enemies, from which the church has most to fear. But I think I do you no injustice when I say, that it does not seem to have been your intention to include such characters as these within those “descriptions of the church’s enemies,” upon which his Lordship is blameable for having bestowed his patronage and protection.

But, waiving these considerations, let me ask the Country Clergyman, wherein he designs to make the Noble President’s guilt consist. It cannot be in the _bare and simple act_ of bestowing his patronage and protection upon every description of “the church’s enemies.” For such an _act_ his Lordship has the highest precedent, and the least questionable authority. For every time the several denominations of Christians meet to worship God according to their various rites (and they may meet just as often as they will), they enjoy the patronage and protection of that exalted Personage, who, as the guardian of the constitution, is present wherever there are rights to protect, and laws to protect them. Upon this point, therefore, no controversy can arise: and the main question between us will be, whether the _object_ for which this patronage and protection are bestowed be of a nature to favour the assumed hostilities of the different denominations of Christians against the established church. Now that object, as defined by his Lordship, is, “to promote the circulation of the Scriptures at home and abroad;” and this you admit “is an object in which every one, who professes the religion of Christ, must feel a deep interest.” I am glad to find you admitting as much as this; and I hope I do not misunderstand you. Indeed I am so desirous of tracing an agreement between us, wherever I can find a ground for doing it, that I will endeavour to persuade myself, though the delusion should prove never so short, that the circulation of the Scriptures is not among the points on which we differ. But you question whether _this_ be the object; since “the object of a society is not to be known from its public declaration in print;” {8} and yet, shrewd as this remark appears, I cannot but think that “the declaration in print,” of a large body of men, subscribed with their names, is rather better authority for judging of their specific object, than _the insinuation in print_ of an anonymous individual: and I believe that most of the world will be of the same opinion. I know indeed that declarations in print are not to be credited merely because they are _made_: but yet I cannot think that the mere act of _making_ them is a reason why they should be discredited. For, if the rule were established for interpreting every “declaration in print” into its opposite, I should be justified at once in concluding that _your object_ is to become a member of this obnoxious Association; _merely_ because you declare in print, “I cannot join myself to your Bible Society.” {9a}

Surely, Sir, as a Country Clergyman, you must have heard of the vaccine inoculation. Now there is an association in the metropolis to which that ingenious invention has given birth, and which is publicly known as the _Jennerian Society_. I see no reason why it might not as properly be called “the British and Foreign Vaccine Society,” since its object is “to promote the circulation of vaccine matter at home and abroad.” Now indulge yourself for a moment with the supposition, that when this Society had printed their “object, their principles, and their reasons,” and solicited the countenance and support of the faculty and persons of every denomination, some country physician had stepped from his obscurity, and opened a smart attack upon them. Suppose him to have contended with all the gravity in the world, “that the object of a Society is not to be known from its public declaration in print;” {9b} that Societies which afterwards found their way “to the Old Bailey, or the Maidstone assizes,” had announced themselves to the world by “printed declarations of their reasons, objects, and principles;” {9c} and that for his own part, though he saw in their President a nobleman, “for whose head and heart he had the highest respect,” and among their supporters “many respectable names, with which he should be happy to place his own;” {10a} yet because they received guineas from quacks and empirics, as well as from regulars and licentiates in medicine, he considered the whole Society as a dangerous combination against the health of the community, and a conspiracy for effecting the diabolical design of poisoning his Majesty’s subjects. What, Sir, would you think of such a worthy gentleman? You would not question his sincerity, for no man who was not “horribly afraid” {10b} would intimate suspicions for which he was likely to gain so little credit among mankind: but I think you would feel yourself at liberty to question something about him, which if it did not provoke your resentment, might deservedly enough excite your compassion.

I am glad to find, as I advance farther into your pages, that things are not quite so bad as I had apprehended. “Far be it from me to say,” you tell his Lordship, “that you preside over an association of men combined for designs altogether bad; that you patronize and protect a Society, whose objects and principles are wilfully nefarious.” {10c} Now though this apology for insinuations which might as well have been withheld, is not wholly purged from bile, yet I confess it gives me pleasure to see it made at all; because it delivers _me_ from the logical difficulty of proving a negative, and _you_ from the logical disgrace of requiring it.

At present then it seems, that the majority of this Society, though weak and deceivable, are not Jacobinical or designing men. It is not within their _present_ intention to “pursue an object of an evil tendency in a close and clandestine manner, under favour of a public declaration of different, and” even “a contrary character.” {11a} Nay, so little are they suspected of being _as yet_ “wilfully nefarious,” that if his Lordship can give you such a security as you require, for the maintenance of its original intentions, you think the Society “will be what it proposes,” and you “shall be proud to rank” your “name, and make exertion under his protection.” {11b}

I do assure you, Sir, that my jealousies on this particular are quite as much alive as yours can be. I know how apt Societies are to depart from the principles upon which their original association was formed; and I am half inclined to think, that in this and other parts of your pamphlet you are reading a lesson to some Societies in the metropolis, that I could name. However, I do not absolutely affirm that such is your intention; for though I might take advantage of your own axiom, and suspect your “declaration in print” to be _one_ thing and your real object _another_, yet I should think it scarcely decorous to say so. Besides, it is very possible after all, that the whole may have been the result of accident; and that you had no design whatever of publishing the _actual_ state of one Society, when you were merely predicting the _future_ state of another.

But, Sir, let me ask you now, in the best humour in the world, what security you would require for the maintenance of an original object which the Bible Society has not already given you. I grant, if you had been invited to join a Society, whose object was the promotion of Christianity, the reformation of manners, or the suppression of vice, you might reasonably enough have doubted whether the nature of the object sufficiently explained the views of the associators, and gave you any competent pledge for the purity of those measures which they might in process of time adopt. You might then have argued with some show of plausibility, that “the _real object_ will take its colour from the opinions and pursuits of those _effective members_, who shall contrive, either by an actual majority, or an _assiduity and activity equivalent in force to the power of a majority_, to give direction to the energy of the association;” {12} and the event, in certain cases, would have proved, that you were not very greatly mistaken. But in the case under consideration, the object is definite. For the Bible (_which_ and which _alone_ constitutes that object) is specific; and is further secured, by its authorized translation into all the languages of the United Kingdom, against the possibility of losing its specific character. Now since the Society are bound, by a law of their constitution, to circulate the _authorized_ version of the Scriptures, and that _alone_, their object must remain so uniform and determinate, that no deviation from it can occur, without a perceivable, an obvious, a felonious sacrifice of justice, honor, and good faith. Of such departure therefore, if ever it should be attempted, the public will most infallibly be apprized. For those respectable characters _at least_, with whom you would be proud to rank your name, will be the witnesses, the opposers, and (if unsuccessful in their opposition) the reporters of such apostacy; and I hardly need remind you that the efficiency of their exertions under all these characters, will be diminished in the same proportion, in which you may contrive to reduce their numbers, and discredit their association.

So much for that security which the object of the Society affords. But let us hear what sort of security you, in the exercise of your moderation, are disposed to require. “If Lord T. will pledge himself that the six hundred members of his Society are, like himself, honourable and upright men, who speak what they mean, and practise what they profess, who abhor duplicity and deceit, and know no discordance between the object they _profess_ and the object they _pursue_—if Lord T. can assure me this, I shall be proud to rank my name, and make exertion under his protection.” {14a}

And are these really, Sir, the lowest terms upon which the benefit of your name can be obtained for the British and Foreign Bible Society? If they are, I must fairly own, humiliating as the confession may appear, I have no hope of hearing that the Secretary has been called upon “to insert your name and accept your donation.” {14b} No Sir; his Lordship cannot go such lengths as you require. I dare say he would do every thing in his power to satisfy you; but I think I may venture to say, without consulting him, that this exceeds his power. His Lordship is a student of human nature, and the situations which he has filled, have afforded him opportunities of pursuing his favorite study. How he has employed those opportunities, and what fruit he has derived from them, I need not tell you. I dare say you have not lost your respect for the biographer of Sir William Jones, in your resentment against the President of the Bible Society. But, with all his powers of discrimination, his Lordship has his limits as well as _other_ men; and I hope you would not wish him to vouch _for_ or _against_ a large class of individuals, as you may have found some people inclined to do, merely on account of certain peculiar specimens which he has seen, or some indistinct reports which he has heard.

But surely, Sir, I may be excused for doubting whether you “be in jest or earnest,” {15} when you meet his Lordship’s proposition with such exorbitant demands. Did you ever know a President who could engage for quite so much as you require? Or did you ever see “six hundred” names together, that stood for nothing less than so many “honorable and upright men?” I am sure I venerate every useful Society throughout the kingdom, from the Society for _promoting Christian Knowledge_, down to the Society for _superseding the Necessity of Climbing Boys_; and yet I should not be surprised if their respective Presidents should decline bearing their testimony to the individual characters of the first _six hundred_ members of those several Societies upon which I might choose to lay my hand. Besides, Sir, consider—a rule for _one_, in such a case is a rule for _all_. What you require _before_ you subscribe your name, others may think themselves justified in requiring _after_ you have subscribed it. And what will be the consequence?—His Lordship will next be called upon to pledge himself for _you_; and though I dare say he could do it with perfect safety, yet I think he might have reasons for wishing to be excused.

The object of this extravagant demand at length comes out; and it seems I was perfectly justified in doubting whether you were in jest or earnest when you advanced it. “All (you say) that I here assert” (and questions of a certain description are the strongest of all assertions) “is this; that your Lordship, for whose head and heart I have the highest respect, appears to have undertaken the patronage of you know not whom or what.” {16} Now, Sir, there is but one portion of this _assertion_ to which I have any objection. His Lordship certainly does know _what_ he has undertaken to patronize; for to the circulation of the Scriptures, the Scriptures as printed by authority, the Scriptures without any addition, deduction, or variation, both his patronage and that of the truly venerable characters associated with him, are restrained. The rest of the assertion is perfectly harmless. His Lordship has undertaken the patronage of he _knows not whom_: this is strictly true; nor would it be less so, if his Lordship filled the chair of any other Society, or if the Country Clergyman and his friends occupied the place of the six hundred members over whom his Lordship _actually does_ preside.

It seems, however, that if his Lordship does not know over _whom_ he presides, the Country Clergyman can tell him. Lord T. does not know “the men and their communication” to whom he has joined himself; but you, it should seem, can explain them both. No sooner do you cast your eye over the List of Subscribers which his Lordship has sent you, than you see “a very large proportion” of persons “with which, as an honest man,” you “can have nothing to do;” men of whose company you “have hitherto always been horribly afraid, being frightened at the idea of having the national establishment blown up, as one of them said, clergy and all;”—“wolves,” who design to worry your “poor sheep;”—“crafty beasts;” and, finally, “those who openly and fairly avow that their object is to eat up both sheep and shepherd.” {17} This is indeed, Sir, a very alarming discovery; and I could almost wish, for the honor of the Society, it had never been made. However, though I love the Society much, I love truth more; and therefore, whatever sacrifice it may cost me, I trust it will always prevail.