Comma for either/or — dharma, courage. Spelling forgiving — corage finds courage.

    The Black Book: An Exposition of Abuses in Church and State

    Ii.—: Measures for the Relief of Dissenters.

    John Wade

    13 min

    The measures introduced by ministers for the relief of dissenters were characterised by illusiveness and inefficiency. First came the Marriage Bill. Here the grievance consisted in compelling the dissenter to be married according to the forms and by a minister of the church of England. It was proposed to allow the dissenter to be married according to his own fashion, but the bans were to continue to be published in the parish church. Why such bit by bit relief? Were the Ministers reluctant to take too large a slice from the surplice fees? The dissenter wished to be relieved from the necessity of coming in contact at all with the established priesthood in the celebration of what he considers a mere civil ceremony; and why could not an indulgence be extended to the whole body of dissenters which has long been enjoyed, without bad consequence, by the Quakers and Jews?

    But if the object was to amend the marriage laws, why not do it on a general and comprehensive principle? They are a disgrace to the jurisprudence of a civilized people. To prevent clandestine marriages the consent of parents and a certain term of residence are required, bans are to be published or a license obtained; but all these safeguards may be evaded by stepping over the border into Scotland. Then why not have removed the anomalies in the law of divorce, and rendered valid marriages celebrated by the Roman catholic clergy. The last are a fruitful source of immorality and often of suffering: the vast body of Irish in England prefer being married by their own priests; such marriages are all invalid, the children born of them are bastards, and the mother is not unfrequently left destitute with a family, not having any marital claim on the father for their maintenance.

    In their Marriage Bill the Whigs acted on their accustomed maxim of doing the least possible—introducing a measure not the best in kind but smallest in quantity.

    The Church Rates’ Bill was a gross attempt at delusion. It was framed on the principles then predominant in the cabinet—namely, not to diminish in the slightest degree the possessions of the Church. About £250,000 a year, it was calculated, formed the dissenters’ share of the church rates; this was to be charged on the land-tax—that is, on the general revenue of the country. That is, the hand was to be taken out of one pocket to be thrust into the other: what had been a voluntary payment, assessed by the parishioners themselves, was to be converted into a compulsory tax, levied by the state on both Dissenters and Churchmen. How ingenious! but the people only laughed; so no more was heard of the Church Rate Bill.

    It is not easy to conceive what practical advantages Dissenters can derive from admission into the Universities on the principles proposed by the bill of last session. They can hardly like their children to be taught any more than married by the established clergy. Besides, the government of the colleges and the fellowships, tutorships, and professorships, will be possessed exclusively by members of the Church of England. The course of instruction, too, being in great part religious, must be repugnant to dissenting tenets. This is decidedly the case at Oxford, where at one of the colleges one-third of the time of the students is occupied in religious studies. From Mr. Maberly’s pamphlet it appears that at the college to which he belonged the students are occupied in reading the gospels in Greek, afterwards Paley’s Evidences of Christianity, and the last year of their course is devoted to the study of the thirty-nine articles. Can a dissenter join in these exercises, or if he cannot how is his time to be occupied? It is clear, admission will be to him a profitless boon; the only advantages it offers are that it will qualify him to be a fellow of the college of physicians, and shorten by two years the term of attendance at the inns of court of students educating for the bar: but these can only be facilities to a few of the great body of dissenters desirous of an university education. As to the attainment of academical degrees, even if admission is allowed, that seems chimerical in the existing spirit and constitution of the universities. A dissenter is more hated and despised at college than an infidel. He may deserve degrees, but will they be conferred by the governing authorities? It will be at the universities as it is in the courts of law—where many are called to the bar, but few chosen.

    The entire constitution of the Universities is vicious. They are national foundations, and were originally intended for national purposes, but have become wholly unsuited to the times. Two-thirds of the colleges of Oxford were founded in catholic times, when men believed in purgatory, transubstantiation, the invocation of saints, and the efficacy of masses in procuring the repose of the dead. At the Reformation, and subsequently, their constitution was altered under the mere authority of royal letters and proclamations, and the same power which assimilated their discipline to the reformed religion may be again exercised to assimilate it to the altered circumstances of society. The educational wants of the age are science and philosophy, but the instruction of the universities is scholastic and theological. It is the learning of the fourteenth rather than of the nineteenth century. Divinity formerly constituted almost the only knowledge as the sole study of all classes; the Bible in an unknown tongue was a sealed volume to the laity, and required the interpretation of priests and professors. But this is all changed. The scriptures are opened to all, and every one assumes an equal right to interpret their contents. Does not this shew the necessity of altering the constitution of the universities? Education at these national establishments ought to be secular, not ecclesiastical. Divided as the community is into sects, whoever seeks to establish tests seeks to privilege one by the proscription and plunder of another. It is an attempt to establish a mental monopoly more detestable in principle than monopoly in commerce. To abate such grievances is only following up the spirit which repealed the test and corporation acts, and relieved the catholics. Till then toleration will be incomplete; there will still be pains and penalties for conscience sake. But that the good cause will triumph we have no doubt, in spite of the imbecile conceits of Sir Robert Peel, Goulburn, Inglis, and other remnants of the pig-tail school.

    Throwing open the Universities forms only a part of the advantages to which Dissenters ought to aspire. The colleges of Eton and Winchester are public foundations, intended for the advancement of learning. With ample revenues, they are entirely in the hands of the established clergy, and replete with abuses. The education given there is a farrago of obsolete learning and metrical trifling—and the discipline is detestable; it is that of the quarter-deck or cockpit, in which boys are brought up to be alternately slaves and tyrants. In the great schools and charitable foundations of the metropolis and neighbourhood, in the Charter House, Christ’s Hospital, St. Paul’s, Westminster, Harrow, Rugby, and the Gresham Lectures, the clergy have a monopoly of their revenues, as wardens, provosts, high masters, senior masters, ushers, lecturers, and assistants. Why, too, should the masterships of grammar-schools, throughout the kingdom, be limited to graduates of the universities? They have degenerated into sinecures, seldom having more than two or three foundation scholars; and the buildings piously intended by their founders for the gratuitous accommodation of poor children, have been perverted into boarding and pay-schools for the emolument of their clerical masters, usually the parasites or relatives of some rotten corporation, who assume to be trustees of the foundation.

    One of the benefits we anticipate from the agitation of the Dissenters is the opening and entire reform of the much-abused and long-neglected schools and charitable foundations of the kingdom. But to obtain this or any other practical advantage, they must urge their claims with zeal and perseverance. They must agitate openly and boldly; it is only by organizing a strong pressure from without that any thing will be carried: in the opinion of those from whom relief is sought, they are not, as matter of right, entitled to any concession; therefore no concession will be made except on compulsion. We would strongly advise the Dissenters to abandon their present stealthy mode of proceeding; they really seem ashamed to put forward their grievances with effect, lest they should be accused of political agitation, or of allying themselves with political agitators. False delicacy like this is unworthy of so just and honest a cause. They should connect themselves with all who have any thing to ask from the common enemy, regardless of misconstruction. Above all they should refrain from seeking private interviews with ministers; they will obtain only courtesies: nor should they listen to those who advise them not to embarrass government, but wait and see what will be done for them. This soft and illusive course has been tried, and what was the result? What did they gain by their twenty-three interviews with the members of government?—the Church Rate Bill and the Marriage Bill!

    Agitate—agitate boldly; let their grievances, numbers, wealth, and social importance be unceasingly brought before the public, and we will answer for the result.

    Having said much on the Universities, we shall conclude the chapter with shortly noticing a few of the incongruities in the discipline and constitution of these foundations.

    Dissenters, as such, are not admitted either at Oxford or Cambridge, but at Cambridge they may pass through their studies, though not allowed to graduate: thus they may qualify for degress, but are interdicted their attainment. At Oxford they are entirely excluded, subscription to the thirty-nine articles being requisite on entrance. At Trinity College, Dublin, catholics are admitted and allowed to graduate; yet this is a strictly protestant university, intended to promote the protestant religion, and founded by almost our first protestant sovereign, Queen Elizabeth.

    England has been more slow than most continental nations in establishing entire religious freedom; that is, the abolition of all tests as a qualification for civil rights, whether political or educational. In the German universities there are no religious tests; nor even in the pope’s university at Bologna. In England they are comparatively of recent introduction, and rest on no great authority; for it is under no higher sanction than a royal letter of James I., dated 1613, that the universities assume the power to refuse degrees without subscription. Prior to that time all the honours of the universities were attainable, except in theology, without any subscription whatever.

    In the reform of the universities the spirit that prevails there ought to be totally disregarded. During the last session they had the monstrous injustice to petition Parliament not only against the admission of dissenters to degrees, but against the grant of authority to any other university to confer degrees on dissenters. This was assuredly the climax of clerical monopoly and intolerance.

    But why should the Dissenters stop at mere academic distinctions, and not seek to participate in the government and emoluments of these great public establishments. The college endowments are a part of the national domains, intended by their founders to be appropriated to national education. They were not intended for the benefit of a sect or party, but for the community. A collation of the practices of the universities, with their ancient charters and statutes, would show such deviations as would fairly warrant the confiscation of their revenues. To break in on such nurseries of abuse, and adjust them to the wants of society, would be an act of justice, not spoliation. The endowments of some of the colleges were meant solely for the poor. Thus the statutes of King’s College, Cambridge, declare that it is for the benefit of “the poor and indigent”—pauperes et indigentes; whereas it is only the wealthy scholars of the abused foundation of Eton that enjoy its advantages.

    But enough: university reform ought to have been included in the repeal of the Corporation and Test Acts. It is indeed contended by some that as the universities are lay corporations, the dissenters are eligible to all their advantages under the authority of that statute.