digestion of his time; and no statesman would then have argued that a
government could forego the advantage of religious support. And William,
after all, had come to free the church from her oppressor. Freedom
implied protection, and protection in that age involved establishment.
It was thus taken for granted by most members of the Church of England
that her adoption by the State meant her superiority to every other form
of religious organization. Superiority is, by its nature exclusive, the
more especially when it is united to a certainty of truth and a kinship
with the dominant political interest of the time. Long years were thus
to pass before the real meaning of the Toleration Act secured
translation into more generous statutes.

The problem of the Church's government was hardly less complex. The very
acerbity with which it was discussed proclaims that we are in an age of
settlement. Much of the dispute, indeed, is doubtless due to the dislike
of all High Churchmen for William; with their consequent unwillingness
to admit the full meaning of his ecclesiastical supremacy. Much also is
due to the fact that the bench of bishops, despite great figures like
Tillotson and Wake, was necessarily chosen for political aptitude rather
than for religious value. Nor did men like Burnet and Hoadly, for all
their learning, make easy the path for brethren of more tender
consciences. The Church, moreover, must have felt its powers the more
valuable from the very strength of the assault to which she was
subjected. And the direct interference with her governance implied by
the Oaths of Allegiance and of Abjuration raised questions we have not
yet solved. It suggested the subordination of Church to State; and men
like Hickes and Leslie were quick to point out the Erastianism of the
age. It is a fact inevitable in the situation of the English Church that
the charge of subjection to the State should rouse a deep and quick
resentment. She cannot be a church unless she is a _societas perfecta_;