effected, it
was still very impure. Let us take the evidence of the kindly and
well-informed Sir Walter Scott. 'We should do great injustice to the
present day by comparing our manners with those of the reign of George
I. The writings even of the most esteemed poets of that period contain
passages which now would be accounted to deserve the pillory. Nor was
the tone of conversation more pure than that of composition; for the
taint of Charles II.'s reign continued to infect society until the
present reign [George III.], when, if not more moral, we are at least
more decent.'[687] What was the state of the law? The criminal law was
simply barbarous. Any theft of more than 40_s._ was punishable by death.
Objects of horror, such as the heads of the rebel chiefs fixed on Temple
Bar in 1746, were exposed in the vain hope that they might act as a
'terriculum.'[688] Prisons teemed with cruel abuses. The Roman Catholics
were still suffering most unjustly, and if the laws had been rigorously
enforced they would have suffered more cruelly still. A more tolerant
spirit was happily gaining ground in the hearts of the nation, but so
far as the laws were concerned there were few if any traces of it. The
Act of 1779, for the relief of Dissenters, is affirmed to be 'the first
statute in the direction of enlarged toleration which had been passed
for ninety years.'[689] It was about the middle of the century when
irreligion and immorality reached their climax. In 1753, Sir J. Barnard
said publicly, 'At present it really seems to be the fashion for a man
to declare himself of no religion.'[690] In the same year Secker
declared that immorality and irreligion were grown almost beyond
ecclesiastical power.

The question, then, arises, 'How far were the clergy responsible for
this sad state of affairs?' As a body they were distinctly superior to
their contemporaries. It is a remarkable fact that when the clergy were,
as a rule, very unpopular, during the reign of the Georges I. and
II.,[691] and when, therefore, any evil reports against them would be
eagerly caught up and circulated, we find singularly few charges of
gross immorality brought against them. Excessive love of preferment, and
culpable inactivity in performing the duties of their office, are the
worst accusations that are brought against them as a body. Even men like
Lord Hervey, and Horace Walpole and Lord Chesterfield rarely bring, and
still more rarely substantiate, any charges