Part 6

Such enormities in the doctrine and practice of the Church, as we have indicated rather than described, could lead to only one of two issues--Reform or Revolution. The change brought about, though contenting itself with the milder name, was in fact the more drastic procedure. The European reformation of Martin Luther in 1517 was a revolution in the Church, much more radical and much more worthy of so strong a designation than the political revolution of 1688 in Great Britain. It is needless to recapitulate the causes of offence; they were only too patent--insolence, secularity, sensuality, venality, idleness, vice, and worthlessness of every kind in the Church; but there were two causes which, in addition to corruption from within, tended to open the ears of Christendom largely to the cry for Church reform. These were the stir in the intellectual movement from the days of the author of the Divine Comedy downwards, enforced by the invention of printing in the middle of the fifteenth century, which was amply sufficient to become a danger to even a much less vulnerable creed than that which had satisfied the crude demands of medieval intelligence; and, in the second place, the hostility which the insolence and ambition of Churchmen had roused in the secular magistracy--that is, not only the monarch and his official ministers, but the great body of the higher nobility who found themselves ousted from their place in the familiar counsels of the monarch by the advocates and ambassadors of a foreign potentate. Thus the two best friends of every Established Church in its normal state were converted into enemies; and the natural indignation of the common people at the licentious lives and gross venality of the clergy was stimulated into an explosion by the desire of the secular dignities to curb the pride of the clergy, and, it might lightly happen also, to rob them of part of their overgrown wealth, nominally for the public good, really for the aggrandisement of the Crown and the nobility. The shameless nepotism of Pope Sixtus IV., the flagitious lives and abhorrent practices of the Borgias, more fit for a sensational melodrama in the lowest Parisian theatre than for the home of a Christian bishop; the military rage of a Julius, who turned the Church of Christ into a travelling camp and the bishop's crozier into a soldier's sword; the literary dilettantism of the Court of Leo X., more eager to distinguish itself by the elegant trimming of Latin versicles than by apostolic zeal and Christian purity,--all this, so long as it disported itself on Italian ground, the aristocracy of England and Scotland might have continued to look on with indifference; but that the son of anybody or nobody, in a county of unvalued clodhoppers, should jostle them in the antechamber of the monarch, and claim precedence in the hall of audience, simply because he was the supple instrument of an insolent Italian priest, this was not to be borne; and so the Reformation came, with the mob of the lowest classes, the mass of the respectable middle classes, the most influential of the nobility, and the power of the Crown, all in full cry against the ecclesiastical fox. The revolution thus volcanically effected, and known in history under the name of Protestantism, meant simply the right of every individual member of the Christian Church to take the principles and the practice of his Church directly from the original records of the Church, without the intervention of any body of authorised interpreters; and the necessary product of this right when exercised was first to declare certain practices and doctrines that had grown up in the Church through long centuries to be unauthorised departures from the original simplicity and purity of the gospel; and, further, to deny that there existed in the Christian Church, as originally constituted, any class or caste of men enjoying the exclusive privilege to perform sacred functions, and endowed with a divine virtue to perform sacramental miracles by their consecrating touch,--in a word, that there was no priesthood, properly so called, in the Reformed Christian Church. Nor is this doctrine, as some may think, the teaching only of the Helvetic confession, what certain persons have been fond to call extreme Protestantism; for, though the word priest has been retained in the English prayerbook as a minister in sacred things of a particular grade and exercising a particular function, the attempt made by Archbishop Laud and the Romanising party in the Reformed Church of England to retain in the bosom of the Anglican Church the ideas which the ancient Jews and the Romish Christians attached to the word _priest_, proved a signal failure; and for the sacerdotal despotism which it implied, as well as for the secular despotism which the priest advised and encouraged the unfortunate king to assert, the adviser and the advised justly lost their heads. Of all the teachings of Church history, from the Waldenses in the twelfth century down to the present hour, there is nothing more certain than this, that between Popery and Protestantism there is no middle term possible. They may agree, in fact they do agree, in many essential things, and in a few accidental; but in the fundamental principle of Church administration they are diametrically opposed. The principle of the one is sacerdotal authority, absolute and unqualified; the principle of the other is individual and congregational liberty. The one form of polity is a close oligarchy, the other either a free democracy or an aristocracy more or less penetrated by a democratic spirit.

The practical outcome of this great Protestant movement, in the midst of which we live, cannot fail to a reasonable eye to appear in the highest degree satisfactory. Never was the life of the Christian Church at once more intensely earnest and more expansively distributive than at the present moment. On the one hand, the Roman Church, wisely taught by the experience of the past, though obstinately cleaving to that stout conservatism of doctrine and ritual inherent in the very bones of all sacerdotal religions, has been, in the main, studious to avoid those causes of offence from which the great rupture proceeded. On the other hand, the Protestant Churches, shaken free from the distracting influence of sacerdotal assumption and secular ambition, have found themselves in a condition to permeate all classes of society with a moral virtue, of whose regenerative action Plato and Socrates, in their best hours, could not have dreamed. Some people, while gladly admitting the immense amount of social good that is done by the various sections of the Protestant Church, never cease to sigh for a lost ecclesiastical unity, and to lament the unseemly strifes that arise among those that should be possessed by one spirit and strive together for a common end. But the persons who speak thus are either sentimental weaklings, being Protestants, or are Romanists and sacerdotalists in their heart. Variety is the law of nature in the moral no less than in the physical world; and the absorption of all sects into one results in a stagnation which will never be found amongst moral beings, unless when produced by weakness of vital force from within, or unnatural suppression from above. The two dominant types of church polity recognised in this country since the Reformation--the Episcopal and the Presbyterian--of which the one boasts a more aristocratic intellectual culture, and the other a more fervid and forcible popular action, may well be allowed to exist together on a mutual understanding of giving and taking whatever is best in each, and thus, in apostolic language, provoking one another to love and to good works. Competition is for the public benefit as much in churches as in trades. Dissent from any dominant body, even though it may proceed from the exaggerated importance given to a secondary matter, will always produce the good result that the dominant body will thereby be stirred to greater activity and greater watchfulness; so that, in this view, we may lay it down as one of the great lessons of history that the best form of church government is a strong establishment qualified by a strong dissent. As to the proposals which have in recent times been made for the formal separation of Church and State, they bear on their face more of a political than of a religious significance. Impartial history offers no countenance to the notion that Established Churches, when well flanked by dissent, and in an age when the spiritual ruler has ceased to make the arm of the State the tool of intolerance, are contrary either to piety or to policy; and in the desire so loudly expressed at election contests to lay violent hands on the valuable organism of church agency existing in this country, the venerated inheritance of many ages of patriotic struggle, the student of history, with a charitable allowance for the best motives in not a few, feels himself constrained to suspect in all such movements no small admixture of sectarian jealousy, fussy religiosity, and domineering democracy. Christianity, of course, stands in no need of an Established Church; religion existed for three hundred years in the church without any State connection, and may exist again; but Christianity does, above all things, abhor the stirring up of strife betwixt Church and Church from motives of jealousy, envy, or greed; and, along with the highest philosophy and the most far-sighted political wisdom, must protest in the strongest terms against the abolishing of a useful ethical institution to gratify the insane lust of levelling in a mere numerical majority.

The Church of the future, whether established or disestablished, or, as I think best, both together, provoking one another to love and to good works, has a great mission before it, if it keep sharply in view the two lessons which the teaching of eighteen centuries so eloquently enforces. Our evangelists must remove from the van of their evangelic force all that sharp fence of metaphysical subtlety and scholastic dogma, which, being ostentatiously paraded in creeds and catechisms, has given more just offence to those without than edification to those within the Church; the gospel must be presented to the world with all that catholic breadth, kindly humanity, and popular directness which were its boast before it was laced and screwed into artificial shapes by the decrees of intolerent councils, and the subtleties of ingenious schoolmen. And, again, they must not allow the gospel to be handled, what is too often the case, as a mere message of hope and comfort in view of a future world; but they must make it walk directly into the complex relations of modern society, and think that it has done nothing till the ideal of sentiment and conduct which it preached on Sunday has been more or less practised on Monday. In fact, there ought to be less vague preaching on Sunday, and more specific and direct application through the week of gospel principle in various spheres of the intellectual and moral life of the community. If, in addition to this, our prophets of the pulpit take care to keep abreast of the intellectual movement of the age, so as not only to stir the world in sermons, but to guide them in the wisdom of daily life, they have nothing to fear from all the windy artillery that the speculations of a soulless physical science, the imaginations of a dreamy socialism, or the dogmatism of a cold philosophical formalism, can bring to bear upon them. Let them grapple bravely with all social problems, and prove whether Christianity, which has done so much to purify the motives of individuals, may not be able also to put a more effective steam into the machinery of society. If they shall fail here, they will fail gloriously, having done their best. It is not given to any people, however great, to solve all problems. When Great Britain shall have played out her part, there will be scope enough in the process of the ages for another stout social worker to place the cornice on the edifice of which she was privileged to raise the pillars.

The End

FOOTNOTES.

[Footnote 1]

Plutarch conjugalia præcepta init.

[Footnote 2]

The word _clan_ is the familiar, well-known Celtic word for _children_.

[Footnote 3]

"Nulli alii sunt homines qui talem in liberos habeant potestatem qualem nos habemus." _Institut_. i. 9, 2.

[Footnote 4]

Thucyd. ii. 15. The Athenians went further, and attributed to the son of Ægeus the creation of their democracy (Pausan., _Att_. iii.); but this, of course, was only the popular instinct, everywhere active, which loves to heap all graces upon the head of a favourite hero.

[Footnote 5]

See the words of the Latin league, Dionys. Hal. vi. 95, contrasting strongly with the original collection of autonomous villages described by Strabo, v. 229, κατἁ κώμας αὐτονομεῖσθαι.

[Footnote 6]

The influence of the great city in centralising the villages and making a state possible was in Greece philologically stereotyped by the fact that for _city_ and _state_ the language had only one word, πόλις. The _city_ was the _state_ in the same sense that the head is the body, for without the head no living body could be.

[Footnote 7]

ὁ στρατιωτικὸς βίος πολλὰ ἒχει μέρη τῶς ἀρετῆς.--Aristot. Pol. ii. 9. St. Paul also frequently in the Epistles, and Clemens Romanus (Oxon. 1633, p. 48) refers to the military profession as a great school of manly virtue.

[Footnote 8]

Spalding's _Italy_, ii. p. 284.

[Footnote 9]

_On Method in Political Science_.

[Footnote 10]

Sismondi, _Etudes sur l'economie politique_, Essai iv.

[Footnote 11]

With which sentence Mr. Freeman agrees. _Comparative Politics_, Lecture iii. p. 78.

[Footnote 12]

This parallel has been noticed by the thoughtful Germans; see particularly Zacharia Sulla, i. 40.

[Footnote 13]

τίνος γὰρ ἂλλου ζῴου ψυχὴ πρῶτα μὲν θεῶν τῶν τὰ μέγιστα καὶ κάλλιστα συνταξάντων ᾔσθηται ὃτι εἰσι: τί δὲ φῦλον ἄλλο ἢ ἄνθρωποι θεοὺς θεραπεύουσι.--Xen. _Mem_. i. 4.

[Footnote 14]

_Iliad_, iii. 271; and compare Virgil, _Æneid_, iii. 80.

[Footnote 15]

Xen., _Rep. Lac._, i. 15; Herod, vi. 56.

[Footnote 16]

Pollux, viii. 90.

[Footnote 17]

Xen., _Mem_. i. 3.

[Footnote 18]

From the διδαχή τῶν ἀποστόλων, or _Early Teaching of the Apostles_, lately discovered, ch. viii., we learn that it was the custom of the early Christians to observe two days of fasting in the week--Wednesday and Friday.--Edit. Oxford Parker, 1885.

[Footnote 19]

In the διδαχή τῶν ἀποστόλων there is absolutely no dogma. It is all practice, and this is quite in harmony with the use of διδαχή by Paul (I Tim. i. 10), and indeed with the whole tone of these two admirable epistles.

[Footnote 20]

In the διδαχή τῶν ἀποστόλων, c. xiii., the "_prophets_" are said to be to Christians what the "_high priests_" were to the Jews,--a phraseology which could not possibly have been used had any priesthood, in the Hebrew sense, existed in the early Church.

End of Project Gutenberg's What Does History Teach?, by John Stuart Blackie