manager of Sacheverell's impeachment, he had seen the hold of the Church
upon the common people, may even, indeed, have remembered that Hoadly's
own dwelling had been threatened with destruction in the popular
excitement. _Quieta non movere_ was his motto; and he was not interested
in the niceties of ecclesiastic metaphysic. So the Test Act remained
immovable until 1828; while the annual Act of Indemnity for its
infractions represented that English genius for illogical mitigation
which solves the deeper problems of principle while avoiding the
consideration of their substance.

In the hundred and twenty years which passed between the Bangorian
Controversy and the Oxford Movement, there is only one volume upon the
problem of Church and State which deserves more than passing notice.
Bishop Warburton was the Lord Brougham of his age; and as its
self-constituted universal provider of intellectual fare, he deemed it
his duty to settle this, amongst others of the eternal questions. The
effort excited only the contempt of Leslie Stephen--"the peculiar
Warburton mixture," he says "of sham logic and bluster." Yet that is
hardly fair to the total result of Warburton's remarks. He tried to
steer a middle path between the logical result of such Erastianism as
that of the _Independent Whig_, on the one hand, and the excessive claim
of High Churchmanship on the other. Naturally enough, or the writer
would not be Warburton, the book is full of tawdry rhetoric and stupid
quibbles. But the _Alliance between Church and State_ (1736) set the
temper of speculation until the advent of Newman, and is therefore
material for something more than contempt. It acutely points out that
societies generate a personality distinct from that of their members in
words reminiscent of an historic legal pronouncement.[12] "When any
number of men," he says, "form themselves into a society, whether civil
or religious, this society becomes a body different from that aggregate