a course more directly opposed to all the rules of king. craft than that which he followed. The policy of wise rulers has always been to disguise strong acts under popular forms. It was thus that Augustus and Napoleon established absolute monarchies, while the public regarded them merely as eminent citizens invested with temporary magistracies. The policy of James was the direct reverse of theirs. He enraged and alarmed his Parliament by constantly telling them that they held their privileges merely during his pleasure, and that they had no more business to inquire what he might lawfully do than what the Deity might lawfully do. Yet he quailed before them, abandoned minister after minister to their vengeance, and suffered them to tease him into acts directly opposed to his strongest inclinations. Thus the indignation excited by his claims and the scorn excited by his concessions went on growing together. By his fondness for worthless minions, and by the sanction which he gave to their tyranny and rapacity, he kept discontent constantly alive. His cowardice, his childishness, his pedantry, his ungainly person and manners, his provincial accent, made him an object of derision. Even in his virtues and accomplishments there was something eminently unkingly. Thus, during the whole course of his reign, all the venerable associations by which the throne had long been fenced, were gradually losing their strength. During two hundred years, all the sovereigns who had ruled England, with the single exception of the unfortu nate Henry the Sixth, had been strong-minded, high-spirited, courageous, and of princely bearing. Almost all had possessed abilities above the ordinary level. It was no light thing that, on the very eve of the decisive struggle between our kings and their Parliaments, royalty should be exhibited to the world stammering, slobbering, shedding unmanly tears, trembling at a drawn sword, and talking in the style alternately of a buffoon and of a pedagogue.

In the mean time, the religious dissensions by which,

from the days of Edward the Sixth, the Protestant body had been distracted, had become more formidable than ever. The interval which had separated the first gencration of Puritans from Cranmer and Jewel was small indeed when compared with the interval which separated the third generation of Puritans from Laud and Hammond. While the recollection of Mary's cruelties was still fresh; while the strength of the Catholic party stil! inspired apprehension; while Spain still retained ascend. ency and aspired to universal dominion, all the Reformed sects knew that they had a strong common interest and e deadly common enemy. The animosity which they felt toward each other was languid when compared with the animosity which they all felt toward Rome. Conform. ists and Nonconformists had heartily joined in enacting penal laws of extreme severity against the papists. But when more than half a century of undisturbed possessica had given confidence to the Established Church; when nine tenths of the nation had become heartily Protestant ; when England was at peace with all the world; when there was no danger that popery would be forced by for eign arms on the nation; when the last confessors who had stood before Bonner had passed away, a change took place in the feeling of the Anglican clergy. Their hos tility to the Roman Catholic doctrine and discipline was considerably mitigated. Their dislike of the Puritans, on the other hand, increased daily. The controversies which had, from the beginning, divided the Protestant party, took such a form as made reconciliation hopeless, and new controversies of still greater importance were added to the old subjects of dispute.

The founders of the Anglican Church had retained episcopacy as an ancient, a decent, and a convenient ecclesiastical polity, but had not declared that form of Church government to be of divine institution. We have already seen how low an estimate Cranmer had formed of the office of a bishop. In the reign of Elizabeth, Jewel, Cooper, Whitgift, and other eminent doctors, defended

prelacy as innocent, as useful, as what the state might lawfully establish, as what, when established by the state, was entitled to the respect of every citizen. But they never denied that a Christian community without a bishop might be a pure church. On the contrary, they regarded the Protestants of the Continent as of the same household of faith with themselves. Englishmen in England. were indeed bound to acknowledge the authority of the bishop, as they were bound to acknowledge the authority of the sheriff and of the coroner, but the obligation was purely local. An English churchman, nay, even an English prelate, if he went to Holland, conformed without scruple to the established religion of Holland. Abroad, the embassadors of Elizabeth and James went in state to the very worship which Elizabeth and James persecuted at home, and carefully abstained from decorating their private chapels after the Anglican fashion, lest scandal should be given to weaker brethren. It was even held that Presbyterian ministers were entitled to place and voice in æcumenical councils. When the States-General of the United Provinces convoked at Dort a synod of doctors not episcopally ordained, an English bishop and an English dean, commissioned by the head of the English Church, sat with those doctors, preached to them, and voted with them on the gravest questions of theology.* Nay, many English benefices were held by divines who had been admitted to the ministry in the Calvinistic form used on the Continent; nor was reordination by a bishop in such cases then thought necessary, or even lawful.

But a new race of divines was already rising in the Church of England. In their view the episcopal office was essential to the welfare of a Christian society and to

* Joseph Hall, then Dean of Worcester, and afterward Bishop of Norwich, was one of the commissioners. In his life of himself, he says: "My unworthiness was named for one of the assistants of that honorable, grave, and reverend meeting." To High-churchmen this humility will seem not a little out of place.

the efficacy of the most solemn ordinances of religion. To that office belonged certain high and sacred privileges, which no human power could give or take away. A church might as well be without the doctrine of the Trinity, or the doctrine of the Incarnation, as without the apostolical orders; and the Church of Rome, which, in the midst of all her corruptions, had retained the apostolical orders, was nearer to primitive purity than those reformed societies which had rashly set up, in opposition to the divine model, a system invented by men.

In the days of Edward the Sixth and of Elizabeth, the defenders of the Anglican ritual had generally contented themselves with saying that it might be used without sin, and that, therefore, none but a perverse and undutiful subject would refuse to use it when enjoined to do so by the magistrate. Now, however, that rising party, which claimed for the polity of the Church a celestial origin, began to ascribe to her services a new dignity and importance. It was hinted that, if the established worship had any fault, that fault was extreme simplicity, and that the Reformers had, in the heat of their quarrel with Rome, abolished many ancient ceremonies which might with advantage have been retained. Days and places were again held in mysterious veneration. Some practices which had long been disused, and which were commonly regarded as superstitious mummeries, were revived. Paintings and carvings, which had escaped the fury of the first generation of Protestants, became the objects of a respect such as to many seemed idolatrous.

No part of the system of the old Church had been more detested by the Reformers than the honor paid to celibacy. They held that the doctrine of Rome on this subject had been prophetically condemned by the Apostle Paul as a doctrine of devils; and they dwelt much on the crimes and scandals which seemed to prove the justice of this awful denunciation. Luther had evinced his own. opinion in the clearest manner by espousing a Some of the most illustrious bishops and priests who had

nun.

died by fire during the reign of Mary had left wives and children. Now, however, it began to be rumored that the old monastic spirit had reappeared in the Church of England; that there was in high quarters a prejudice against married priests; that even laymen, who called themselves Protestants, had made resolutions of celibacy which almost amounted to vows; nay, that a minister of the Established religion had set up a nunnery, in which the Psalms were chanted at midnight by a company of virgins dedicated to God.*

Nor was this all: a class of questions, as to which the founders of the Anglican Church and the first generation of Puritans had differed little or not at all, began to furnish matter for fierce disputes. The controversies which had divided the Protestant body in its infancy had related almost exclusively to church government and to ceremonies. There had been no serious quarrel between the contending parties on points of metaphysical theology. The doctrines held by the chiefs of the hierarchy touching original sin, faith, grace, predestination, and election, were those which are popularly called Calvinistic. Toward the close of Elizabeth's reign, her favorite prelate, Archbishop Whitgift, drew up, in concert with the Bishop of London and other theologians, the celebrated instrument known by the name of the Lambeth Articles. In that instrument the most startling of the Calvinistic doctrines are affirmed with a distinctness which would shock many who, in our age, are reputed Calvinists. One clergyman, who took the opposite side, and spoke harshly of Calvin, was arraigned for his presumption by the University of Cambridge, and escaped punishment only by expressing his firm belief in the tenets of reprobation and final perseverance, and his sorrow for the offense which he had given to pious men by reflecting on the great French Reformer. The school of divinity of which Hooker was

Peckard's Life of Ferrar. The Arminian Nunnery, or a Brief Description of the late-erected monastical Place called the Arminian Nunnery, at Little Gidding, in Huntingdonshire, 1641.