A Second Letter to the Bishop of Exeter — Key Ideas to Explore

The Duplex Querela Dissected

The author devotes considerable space to unraveling the Duplex Querela, a suit he initially doubted existed. He traces its origins to the Archbishops of Canterbury's ancient claim to act as legati nati of the Pope, a legatine jurisdiction that may explain why no instance of the Archbishop of York exercising similar power is found. The suit, he argues, consists of two separate parts: first, a determination of whether the Archbishop has jurisdiction (which depends on whether the Bishop erred), and second, a claim for the Clerk's institution. Crucially, the appeal to the Privy Council is confined to the first branch alone. If the Archbishop decides against the Bishop, the Bishop appeals to the Crown to protect his diocesan rights. This framework, the author contends, shows that the Crown's jurisdiction is proper and not an infringement on ecclesiastical authority.

The Abeyance of Church Legislation

A recurring theme is the legislative power of the Church, which the author asserts has fallen into complete abeyance since Bishop Hoadley's days. He does not question whether there were good reasons for suspending it, but insists that a system of law cannot stand without a power of amendment. The Gorham controversy is presented as a case where the written law was so doubtful that a declaratory Act of Convocation would have been desirable. The author points to the decision of five judges and two archbishops overruling the Bishop of Exeter and the Judge of the Arches as evidence of ambiguity. He argues that the Crown should occasionally allow Convocation to deliberate on Church matters, noting that there is no fear of abuse so long as the Crown retains the initiative over subjects of debate.

A Constitutional Role for Convocation

The author proposes a reformed relationship between Church and state. He suggests that the Crown should ask Convocation's advice on Episcopal power and discipline, rather than relying on irregular proceedings like the majority of Bishops giving opinions without jurisdiction. He even imagines a scenario where both Houses of Parliament consist of laymen alone, with a standing order that no laws on doctrine, ritual, or discipline be passed without Convocation's approval. This, he argues, would allow Bishops and Clergy to render unto Caesar the things of Caesar and unto God the things of God, while Parliament retains its supreme legislative functions. The laity, he emphasizes, have the right to prevent changes in Church laws and to enforce them by civil power. The letter closes with a plea for a healthy action in Convocation as essential to the English Church.

Readers should note that this letter is a legal argument, not a historical narrative. The author assumes familiarity with the Gorham Case and the Duplex Querela. The excerpts reveal a writer deeply concerned with constitutional procedure, yet the full context of the controversy—including the theological stakes—remains largely implicit. The letter's private circulation suggests it was aimed at an informed audience, and its arguments are best evaluated alongside the judicial decisions it references.

Reading this careful layman’s argument about jurisdiction and the Crown’s reach, I found myself remembering my father’s old law books, and how the same dry logic could feel like shelter. Another volume once gave me that quiet sense of order pushed too far—The constitutional iniquity involved in all forms of the regulation of prostitution — Story, Setting & Ideas—where the machinery of governance pressed down on private lives, leaving me with a similar, uneasy stillness.