be abandoned, not because it was unjust,
but because it was unprosperous. Whether James had been a tyrant or had
been the father of his people was quite immaterial. If he had won the
battle of the Boyne we should have been bound as Christians to be his
slaves. He had lost it; and we were bound as Christians to be his foes.
Other Whigs congratulated the proselyte on having come, by whatever
road, to a right practical conclusion, but could not refrain from
sneering at the history which he gave of his conversion. He was, they
said, a man of eminent learning and abilities. He had studied the
question of allegiance long and deeply. He had written much about it.
Several months had been allowed him for reading, prayer and reflection
before he incurred suspension, several months more before he incurred
deprivation. He had formed an opinion for which he had declared himself
ready to suffer martyrdom; he had taught that opinion to others; and he
had then changed that opinion solely because he had discovered that it
had been, not refuted, but dogmatically pronounced erroneous by the two
Convocations more than eighty years before. Surely, this was to renounce
all liberty of private judgment, and to ascribe to the Synods of
Canterbury and York an infallibility which the Church of England had
declared that even Oecumenical Councils could not justly claim. If, it
was sarcastically said, all our notions of right and wrong, in matters
of vital importance to the well being of society, are to be suddenly
altered by a few lines of manuscript found in a corner of the library at
Lambeth, it is surely much to be wished, for the peace of mind of humble
Christians, that all the documents to which this sort of authority
belongs should be rummaged out and sent to the press as soon as
possible; for, unless this be done, we may all, like the Doctor when he
refused the oaths last year, be committing sins in the full persuasion
that we are discharging duties. In truth, it is not easy to believe
that the Convocation Book furnished Sherlock with any thing more than a
pretext for doing what he had made up his mind to do. The united force
of reason and interest had doubtless convinced him that his passions and
prejudices had led him into a great error. That error he determined to
recant; and it cost him less to say that his opinion had been changed by
newly discovered evidence, than that he had formed a wrong judgment with
all the materials for the formin