heir writing. The sermon, that is to say the
literary sermon, has become more and more uncommon; and the popular ear
which calls upon itself to hear sermons at all prefers usually what are
styled practical discourses, often deviating very considerably from the
sermon norm, or else extremely florid addresses modelled on later
Continental patterns, and having as a rule few good literary qualities.
So, too, the elaborate theological treatise has gone out of fashion, and
it may be doubted whether, at least for the last half century, a single
book of the kind has been added to the first class of Anglican
theological writing. This writing has thus taken the form either of
discourses of the older kind, maintained in existence by endowment or by
old prescription, such as the Bampton Lectures, or of rather popular
polemics, or of what may be called without disrespect theological
journalism of various kinds. The general historical energy of the
century, moreover, has not displayed itself least in the theological
department, and valuable additions have been made, not merely to general
church history, but to a vast body of biography and journal-history, as
well as to a certain amount of Biblical scholarship. In this latter
direction English scholars have distinguished themselves by somewhat
less violation of the rules of criticism in general than their foreign
brethren and masters. But it cannot be said that the nineteenth century
is ever likely to rank high in the history of English theology. Even its
greatest names--Irving, Chalmers, the Oxford leaders, and others, with
perhaps the single exception of Newman--are important much more
personally and as influences than as literary figures; while the rank
and file, putting history aside, have been distinctly less noteworthy
than in any of the three preceding centuries.
The "handmaid of theology" has received, at any rate during the first
half of the period, or even the first three-quarters, more distinguished
attentions than her mistress; and the additions made to the list headed
by Erigena and Anselm, if we allow Latin to count, by Bacon and Hobbes,
if we stick to the vernacular, have been many and great. Yet it would
not be unreasonable laudation of times past to say that there hardly,
after Hume's death, arose any philosopher who combined the originality,
the acuteness, and the literary skill of Hume during the first half of
this century, while certainly, at least till within a pe
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