Thirty years ago, Richard H Helmholz, the distinguished American legal historian, wrote a seminal work about whether Roman canon law survived in England after the Reformation. It is a masterful study of the records of the courts of the established Church and the professional literature of their practitioners. In it, Professor Helmholz rebuts Stubbs and Maitland by showing how English ecclesiastical lawyers continued to look to the mediaeval foreign papal canon law and native provincial laws (such as synodal, archiepiscopal and legatine legislation). While their decline after the Reformation might have been expected, Helmholz teaches us how these sources, and later Continental civilian and canonist literature, continued to be invoked by English lawyers. As such, he puts into brilliant relief the wide intellectual horizons associated with ecclesiastical law prevalent in England from the 1530s to the 1640s.Footnote 1 From the late seventeenth century, however, there were those in England who looked also to the Byzantine canon law of the Eastern Orthodox Church as a source of jurisprudence. They could do so largely because of the spadework of someone very worthy to be rediscovered as an Anglican priest-jurist: William Beveridge (1637–1708). What follows explores his life and career, his influence on the development of canonical thinking in the Eastern Orthodox Church, how he used law in his sermons, and the subsequent use of Beveridge by English ecclesiastical lawyers.
THE LIFE AND CAREER OF WILLIAM BEVERIDGE
William Beveridge was born into a clerical family in Leicestershire. He was baptised on 21 February 1637 at Barrow upon Soar, near Loughborough, where his grandfather, father and elder brother were vicars in succession.Footnote 2 He went to school at Oakham, Rutland, then to St John's College, Cambridge, where he was admitted as a sizar (receiving financial assistance in return for performing menial duties).Footnote 3 One college contemporary wrote how Beveridge at Cambridge was ‘very rarely if ever’ seen in ‘places of diversion’; rather, in his leisure time, he was to be found ‘either at a bookseller's shop, in useful conversation, or in his chamber at his study’.Footnote 4 Beveridge graduated BA in 1656 and MA in 1660, the year that the Master of St John's, Anthony Tuckney (1599–1670), a puritan and Regius Professor of Divinity, was removed during the upheavals of the Restoration.
Two years after his BA saw the publication of a work by Beveridge on oriental languages.Footnote 5 In 1661, he was ordained deacon (3 January) and, on the basis of a dispensation, priest (31 January) by Robert Sanderson, Bishop of Lincoln; and Gilbert Sheldon, Bishop of London, appointed him as vicar of Ealing in Middlesex. That same year, Beveridge had resolved ‘by the grace of God to feed the flock over which God shall set him with wholesome food, neither starving them by idleness, poisoning them with error, nor puffing them up with impertinences’.Footnote 6 In 1669 he was incorporated into the University of Oxford and his Institutiones Chronologicae was published. This was followed three years later by his Synodikon – a collection in Greek and Latin of the apostolic canons, the legislation of the early councils and the canonical epistles of the Church fathers; it was to become influential in the Eastern Orthodox Church (see below).Footnote 7 However, in 1674 the French Protestant theologian Matthieu de Larroque criticised it, stimulating a defence by Beveridge in his Vindication of His Collection of the Canons (1678).Footnote 8 In these two works, Beveridge articulated within the High Church tradition the early Christian foundations of what he saw as the proper relationship between Church and State.Footnote 9
The period following the Restoration saw a revival of clerical professionalism in the English Church. Beveridge played his part with vigour. In 1672, he left Ealing for St Peter Cornhill (then being re-built by Christopher Wren), presented by the mayor and aldermen of London. His ministry there was applauded by, among others, the non-juror cleric Denis Grenville (1637–1703): ‘He hath seldom less than fourscore some time six or seven score communicants and a great many young apprentices who come every Lord's [Day] with great devotion.’Footnote 10 In turn, Beveridge became a canon of Chichester Cathedral (1673), prebendary of Chiswick at St Paul's Cathedral (1674) and Doctor of Divinity (1679); while Gilbert Burnet (1643–1715) saw him as ‘a man of great learning, a very practical preacher and a devout man’, he was also ‘in the monastic way too superstitious and singular’.Footnote 11 Indeed, at St Peter Cornhill, Beveridge insisted on the erection of a chancel screen; at the church's consecration in 1681 he preached a sermon Concerning the Excellency and Usefulness of the Common Prayer defending this: a chancel screen preserved the church's unity with universal practice, avoided undesirable novelty in worship and enclosed a special place to celebrate Holy Communion.Footnote 12 In November of that same year Beveridge was appointed as Archdeacon of Colchester. He was assiduous in his duties, particularly with his visitations, which were the subject of one of his sermons (see below). Further offices followed: in 1684 a prebendary at Canterbury Cathedral and in 1689 the presidency of Sion College, London.Footnote 13
Beveridge did not support the government policy of comprehension, which sought to make adherence to the established Church acceptable to those unable in conscience to embrace it; this was promised in 1660, dashed with the Act of Uniformity 1662 and revisited in 1668 and 1675. On 20 November 1689, in a sermon at the opening of Convocation, Beveridge opined that comprehension could be authorised by changing national or provincial usages, but not under divine law. The policy was superseded by the Toleration Act 1689. Beveridge took the oath of loyalty to King William and Queen Mary. However in 1691, when offered it, he took three weeks to consider whether to accept the see of Bath and Wells, which had been vacated by Thomas Ken (who would not take the oath). At first Beveridge accepted it, but then declined it – because he considered that the see was not canonically vacant, arguing that Ken had not been found to have committed any ecclesiastical offence in refusing to take the oath. William Sancroft, the deprived Archbishop of Canterbury, had urged Beveridge not to accept it, so making Beveridge popular among the non-jurors but not, needless to say, at the royal court.Footnote 14
It was in the reign of Queen Anne that Beveridge was to be offered another bishopric, and on 16 July 1704 he was enthroned as Bishop of St Asaph, in north-east Wales, resigning the Archdeaconry of Colchester, but retaining his prebendary at St Paul's in commendam.Footnote 15 The Church of England in Wales at the time was on the back foot, suffering from absentee bishops; the deposition of Thomas Watson, Bishop of St Davids, by the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1699; clerical non-residence and plurality; dilapidated buildings; impoverished and under-educated clergy; and contempt for the Welsh language – John Evans, Bishop of Bangor (1706–1716) before his translation to Meath, was the last native Welsh-speaking bishop in Wales until 1870.Footnote 16 Along with Bishop George Bull of St Davids (1705–1710), Beveridge sought change: he encouraged use of the 1664 Welsh version of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer; he wrote The Church-Catechism Explained for the Use of the Diocese of St. Asaph (1704; by 1720 in a sixth edition); he distributed a Welsh translation of a 1706 tract on confirmation by the non-juror Robert Nelson (1656–1715); and with others he introduced into Wales the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge (which he helped found in 1698). But Beveridge was not shy in appointing as Dean of St Asaph his nephew William Stanley, from his home county of Leicestershire, the son of his sister Lucy. Beveridge himself had married a sister of Lucy's husband, William Stanley senior. Beveridge's wife died before him; no children survived them.
Beveridge died in his apartments in Westminster Abbey cloisters on 5 March 1708 and was buried in St Paul's Cathedral, having directed in his will to be ‘decently interred, but without pomp or tumult’. He left £850 and some realty at Barrow upon Soar. His bequests included an endowment to Barrow upon Soar, £100 to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, his books to nephew William Stanley in trust to set up a public library in St Paul's for the City clergy, and the advowson of Barrow upon Soar to St John's College, Cambridge.Footnote 17
After his death, Beveridge's publications were criticised by Daniel Whitby (1638–1726), a controversial theologian and Arminian priest in the Church of England who favoured the accommodation of Nonconformists; he stated that Beveridge ‘delights in jingle and quibbling, affects a tune and rhyme in all he says and rests arguments upon nothing but words and sounds’.Footnote 18 Unsurprisingly, however, Beveridge was much admired within the High Church movement. His main theological work, An Exposition of the Thirty-Nine Articles, was published in 1710 by his executor.Footnote 19 Over the course of the next century and a half, his various writings, including many sermons, were edited and published by, among others, the Library of Anglo-Catholic Theology.Footnote 20
THE INFLUENCE OF BEVERIDGE IN THE CANONICAL TRADITION OF THE EASTERN ORTHODOX CHURCH
Beveridge's name is also very dear to the heart of Eastern Orthodox canonists because the publication of his Synodikon in 1672 contributed greatly to the renaissance of the Byzantine canonical tradition during the eighteenth century. From its lengthy title, it is clear that this is a two-volume collection of the Byzantine corpus canonum, annotated with the scholia of the famous twelft-century commentators.Footnote 21 The indexes of the two volumes affirm the accuracy of its title.
The first volume starts with the so-called ‘canons of the Holy Apostles’. It continues with the canons of the seven ecumenical councils accepted by the Eastern Orthodox Church: the First Council of Nicaea, the First Council of Constantinople, Ephesus, Chalcedon, the Second and Third Councils of Constantinople (the latter also known as the Council of Trullo) and the Second Council of Nicaea.Footnote 22 The canons of the ecumenical councils are followed by the canons of the two general councils during the two tenures of Ecumenical Patriarch Photius the Great, Primasecunda and Hagia Sophia.Footnote 23 The last section of the first volume contains the canons of the local synods: Carthage (under Cyprian), Ancyra, Neocaesarea, Gangra, Antioch, Laodicea, Sardica, Carthage (materies Africana) and Constantinople (394, under Nectarius).Footnote 24 The first section of the Synodikon's second volume includes the Patristic canons of Dionysius of Alexandria, Peter of Alexandria, Gregory Thaumaturgos, Athanasius of Alexandria, Basil of Caesarea,Footnote 25 Gregory of Nyssa, Timothy of Alexandria (unnumbered), Theophilus of Alexandria (mostly unnumbered), Cyril of Alexandria (unnumbered), Gregory of Nazianzus and Amphilochius of Iconium; an encyclical letter from Gennadius of Constantinople; and a letter from Tarasius of Constantinople to Adrian I of Rome.Footnote 26
In both volumes, all canons are published in their original Greek text, side by side with its Latin translation. In the Synodikon's first volume, under each one of the Apostolic and Synodal canons, Beveridge annexed the hermeneutic scholia of the great twelfth-century Byzantine canonists: Alexios Aristenos, John Zonaras and Theodore Balsamon (again with original Greek text and Latin translation).Footnote 27 These three were the first to write systematic commentaries on each canon, contrary to the prevalent practice of isolated (short) scholia by unknown commentators up to the twelfth century.Footnote 28 Despite the fact that Zonaras was chronologically the earliest of the three, and that Balsamon knew and followed Zonaras’ interpretation (often verbatim), Beveridge placed Balsamon's scholia first, followed by those of Zonaras.
Beveridge was not an innovator in annexing the scholia of Balsamon and Zonaras to the text of the canons. Evidence for this practice can be found as early as the fourteenth century.Footnote 29 A representative example of this category of canonical collection is the Trebizond manuscript of 1311.Footnote 30 However, he was the first to add to the commentaries of Balsamon and Zonaras the Synopsis of the canons, together with Aristenos’ scholia on the Synopsis. The Synopsis is a canonical collection which contains not the full text of each canon but only brief abstracts of them, in epitome form.Footnote 31 The exact date of the Synopsis is unknown, but it was probably put together at some point between the end of the sixth century and the end of the seventh. In terms of its author, some manuscripts attribute the first edition to ‘Stephanos the Ephesian’, but there is uncertainty about who this person was.Footnote 32 For his Synodikon, Beveridge employed a later, revised and augmented, edition of the Synopsis which contained the epitomes of the Apostolic and Synodal Canons, as well as of the first 85 Canons of Basil the Great.Footnote 33 For this reason, in the first section of the second volume, he annexed the scholia of Balsamon and Zonaras, together with the Synopsis and Aristenos’ comments on it, but only to the Basilian Canons 1–85. The rest of the Patristic canons were published only with Balsamon's and Zonaras’ scholia.Footnote 34
From the Synodikon's title we learn that Beveridge found the abovementioned texts after diligently reviewing various manuscripts, mainly from the Bodleian Library at Oxford, and that he enriched his Collection with a detailed prologue at the beginning of the first volume, and with ‘wise’ commentary notes (annotationes) annexed to the end of the second volume.Footnote 35 His prologue contains valuable information about the manuscripts he used. His most important source for the canonical commentaries of Balsamon and Zonaras was manuscript Baroccianus 205 in the Bodleian Library, which he characterised as ‘the most precious heirloom of canon law’.Footnote 36 The primary source for the Synopsis and for Aristenos’ scholia on it was another manuscript at the Bodleian, Baroccianus 221.Footnote 37
Beside these manuscripts, Beveridge also consulted the printed editions of sacred canons; foremost among those editions were the ones containing the commentaries of Balsamon and Zonaras, as he admits in his prologue.Footnote 38 It is highly probable that Beveridge used the 1620 edition of Balsamon's scholia as the basis for the Synodikon's structure and to these he then added the scholia of Zonaras. This would explain his decision to place the canonical commentaries of Balsamon before those of Zonaras, despite the fact that in the manuscript tradition Balsamon's comments appear after those of Zonaras. Moreover, the Synodikon not only faithfully follows the edition of Balsamon's scholia in the numbering of the Canons of Carthage but it also makes exactly the same typographical errors as those to be found in the 1620 edition, namely repeating the numbers 63, 104 and 112.Footnote 39 Beveridge employs these printed editions not only for the text of the scholia of Balsamon and Zonaras but also for the text of the canons, as shown, for instance, by the spelling mistake in the word ‘ΑΡΧΙΕΡΙΣΚΟΠΟΥ’, instead of the correct ‘ΑΡΧΙΕΠΙΣΚΟΠΟΥ’ (archbishop), in the title of the canons of Dionysius of Alexandria, in both the second volume of the Synodikon and the edition of Balsamon's canonical commentaries.Footnote 40
The fact that by the time of the Synodikon's publication there were already printed editions of the full text of the canons with the scholia of Balsamon or Zonaras does not diminish the great influence of the Synodikon in modern Orthodox canon law. Beveridge was the first to publish in the same edition both the canons and the commentaries of both Balsamon and Zonaras, in observance and restoration of the manuscript tradition in the canonical collections of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Moreover, unlike other editions of the canons from the seventeenth century, he did not include in the Synodikon the first (systematic) part of the Syntagma XIV titulorum.Footnote 41 However, he covered this omission with the first publication, in the second part of the second volume of the Synodikon, of the valuable Alphabetical Syntagma of the fourteenth-century canonist Matthew Blastares, with its famous protheoria.Footnote 42
The Synodikon was also the first canonical collection to publish Aristenos’ scholia on the Synopsis. The latter had already been included in the second volume of the Bibliotheca juris canonici veteris by Voellus and Justellus, where it had been incorrectly attributed to Aristenos. This false assumption was further reinforced after the publication of the Synodikon because Beveridge placed Aristenos’ name not next to his comment on each canon's brief abstract, but next to each abstract itself. Despite Beveridge's explicit clarification in the Synodikon's prologue that he placed Aristenos’ name next to each abstract in the sense that Aristenos wrote the comment on each canon's abstract, Aristenos was inscribed in the canonical conscience as the author of the Synopsis, while the popular belief became widespread that his comments on the Synopsis were the product of the hermeneutical work of an anonymous scholar.Footnote 43 It was particularly problematic that Aristenos’ name was placed next to the abstracts of the canons of the two Photian councils, because for these two councils no scholia by Aristenos survive.Footnote 44
Nevertheless, Beveridge should be praised for publishing for the first time in history the full text of each canon, together with the commentaries of the three great canonists of the twelfth century. It is no exaggeration to say that soon after the Synodikon's publication this structure was ‘canonised’ and became the standard form of presenting the canonical material for all the subsequent editions of the holy and sacred canons of the Byzantine Church. The Synodikon became not only the main primary source of reference but, even more importantly, a true source of inspiration for a series of Eastern Orthodox editors and scholars, primarily (but not exclusively) from the Greek-speaking world, who picked up the torch, passed on to them by Beveridge, in the publication of printed canonical collections, particularly during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.Footnote 45
Particular reference should be made to the two most prominent of these collections: namely, the Pedalion and the Syntagma of the Divine and Sacred Canons. The Pedalion (1800) is an annotated collection of the canons of the Byzantine corpus, edited by the hieromonk Agapios and the monk Nicodemos of the Holy Mountain (‘Hagiorite’) and approved for publication by the Holy and Sacred Synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople.Footnote 46 As the Pedalion's editors admit in their prologue, they employed Beveridge's Synodikon (which was rare by their time), in order not only to transcribe from it verbatim the full original Greek text of the canons – acknowledging, thereby, the prominence and authority that Beveridge's Synodikon enjoyed within the Eastern Orthodox Church – but also to provide an interpretation of and comments on each of the canons in modern Greek, on the basis of the scholia of Zonaras, Balsamon and Aristenos.Footnote 47 While the two editors do not refer explicitly to Beveridge, when they mention the word ‘Pandects’ in the Pedalion they certainly mean the Synodikon, whose alternative name, as seen in its title, is ‘Pandects’.Footnote 48 Evidence for this can be found outside the Pedalion sources, such as in the recommendation report of Dorotheos Voulismas, the censor of the Pedalion, who mentions Beveridge's name three times and his ‘Pandects’ eight times as the source employed by the Pedalion's editors.Footnote 49 More crucially, in the footnotes to the Pedalion, the references of its editors to the ‘Pandects’ lead to the identification of this collection with the Synodikon. For example, the remark in the first footnote to Carthage Canon 141 (136), regarding typographical errors in the numbering of the Carthage canons by the ‘Pandects’ and ‘Balsamon’, is a clear reference to the repetition of the numbers 63, 104 and 112 of the Carthage canons in the Synodikon and in the edition of Balsamon's scholia.Footnote 50
Nevertheless, even after the publication of the Pedalion, Beveridge's Synodikon remained the ‘most perfect and the most critical’ edition of canons, since the Pedalion was not a sufficient source for scientific research, mainly because it did not contain the full text of the scholia of Zonaras, Balsamon and Aristenos, or Blastares’ Alphabetical Syntagma.Footnote 51 This lacuna was filled with the publication of the six-volume Syntagma of the Divine and Sacred Canons (1852–1859), edited by Georgios A Rallis and Michael Potlis.Footnote 52 Rallis and Potlis republished the full text of the canons of the Byzantine corpus, together with the scholia of Zonaras, Balsamon and Aristenos (in volumes 2–4), and of Blastares’ Syntagma (in volume 6), after a new editing process of the text contained in Beveridge's Synodikon, in accordance primarily with the 1779 copy of the Trebizond manuscript of 1311 (for volumes 2–4) and with a series of manuscripts found mainly in the National Libraries of Athens and Paris (for volume 6). Moreover, the editors also published the first (systematic) part of the Syntagma in 14 Titles (in volume 1), as well as a series of patriarchal and synodal decisions of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and excerpts of Novels of Byzantine emperors (volume 5), which were not included in the Synodikon.
Rallis and Potlis’ Syntagma therefore finally supplanted the Synodikon as ‘the most excellent and most proper work that has ever been published up to this point on the sources of the ecclesiastical law of the Eastern Orthodox Church’.Footnote 53 Nevertheless, in their prologue to the whole collection the editors talk about their work as a ‘new edition of the Synodikon’, a characterisation repeated in the imprimatur letter sent to Rallis by the Holy Synod of the Kingdom of Greece.Footnote 54 Even though this characterisation is not accurate, it reflects the great admiration of Rallis and Potlis for Beveridge's Synodikon, this ‘precious treasure’ and ‘beauteous monument’ of the Byzantine canonical tradition, and their ‘deepest gratitude’ to Beveridge himself.Footnote 55 This gratitude was expressed in the Syntagma's prologue, and is repeated again here, on behalf of every ‘friend of ecclesiastical education’, of every ‘truly Greek soul’ ‘for the memory of this wise man’, ‘the excellent theologian, the possessor of the deepest knowledge about the ecclesiastical history, the notable Hellenist, who, even though from a different Christian denomination, was free from any unfair prejudice against the mother of the Christian Churches’.Footnote 56
THE SERMONS OF BEVERIDGE AND HIS LATER USE IN ENGLISH CHURCH LAW
Beveridge delivered many high-profile and topical sermons. For instance, he preached in 1681 on the Book of Common Prayer (a sermon that ran to four editions), in 1683 as a governor of the Sons of the Clergy at their annual festival and on the anniversary of the great fire of London in 1666, in the House of Lords in 1704 on the Gunpowder Plot and in the same place in 1705 on King Charles I as a martyr.Footnote 57 He also addressed Church law. Three examples are offered here.Footnote 58
First, as might be expected, he sometimes uses the early conciliar canons. In a sermon on the presence of Christ with His ministers, he tells how Christ left ‘the power of governing the Church’ to His apostles and their successors, who are ‘empowered both to declare what are those commands of Christ which men ought to observe, and also to use all means to prevail upon men to observe them’ by ‘correcting and punishing those who violate, rewarding and encouraging those who keep them’. He then turns to visitation:
for the better execution of this power, it has been the constant custom of the Apostles and their successors in all ages, to visit the Churches committed to their charge; to inquire into the faith and manner, both of the clergy and laity that are under them; and to use so much of their authority, and give such orders as they found necessary for the due observation of their Lord's commands.
However,
for several ages after the Apostles, we have no ecclesiastical law or canon, as I remember, about episcopal visitations; because there was no need of them till about the sixth or seventh century, when there were several canons made concerning the time and manner of keeping them.
Namely, ‘the sixth council at Arles decreed, that every bishop should go about his diocese once every year’; a ‘canon of the second council at Seville, [decreed] that every bishop once a year go about his diocese, and confirm and teach’; the second council at Braga decreed ‘that bishops, in their visitation should instruct their clergy how to administer the sacrament’; and the fourth council at Toledo required bishops to ‘enquire into the fabric of their several churches and examine what repairs they wanted’.Footnote 59 There was, of course, visitation law in Beveridge's day.Footnote 60
Secondly, Beveridge often cites the Canons of 1603. For example, he preaches on how bishops must consider whom to admit to holy orders according to ‘general rules, which the Church for that purpose has laid down’. Those rules he elucidates include the rule: ‘That none be ordained, either deacon or priest, who has not first some certain place where he may exercise his function [citing Canon 33], nor except he subscribe to the three articles mentioned in Can[on] 36.’Footnote 61
Thirdly, in one sermon Beveridge gives reasons for the administration of Church courts by lay people: ‘as the Churchwardens of every parish who present offenders to any of these courts are always laymen, so the Chancellors, Commissaries, officials, and other officers in these courts, who receive and examine such presentments, are ordinarily laymen too’. Then come the justifications. First:
it is but reasonable, and in some sense necessary, that they should be so. For if none but clergymen should search into the faults of the laity, the laity might be apt to suspect they were too severely dealt with.
Second:
being tried by men of their own rank and brotherhood before sentence is passed upon them, they cannot blame the Church for it, nor imagine that she can have any other design upon them, but only to do them good, and make them better.
Third: the causes before these courts ‘are many and take up a great deal of time, before they can be brought to an issue’. Thus, ‘if clergymen only should be employed in them, it would take them off too much from the ministry of the Word and sacraments’, this
especially considering that the causes are not only many but diverse too, and some very intricate and mixed; so that to search into the bottom of them all, and fully to understand what is just and meet to be done … requires great knowledge and skill in the whole body of the Ecclesiastical laws, and the Temporal too, so far as they any way concern the Church: which no man can attain to, without making it his constant business and study.
Indeed,
the Church always found it necessary that her Bishops, and all that exercise her jurisdiction under them, should have some of her members learned in the laws, to direct and assist them in the administration of it, and under them to transact and try all causes relating thereunto. Which doubtless, all things considered, is the best way the Church could ever think of, whereby to secure her governors from being maligned, her laws from being violated, and so her members from being injured through mistake or ignorance.Footnote 62
Debate on laity and clergy serving in courts was an old one.Footnote 63
Needless to say, Beveridge was not the first or the last in England to discuss the canons of the early councils. It is well known that other divines wrote extensively on these, including John Prideaux (1578–1650), Professor of Divinity at Oxford, and Bishop of Worcester.Footnote 64 Moreover, several well-known commentators on English ecclesiastical law also explicitly rely on Beveridge as a source for the Early Church canons. We give just two examples from the eighteenth century, one a clerical jurist, the other a civilian. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, in his Codex of 1713, explains (when discussing the statute 26 Henry VIII, c 14) how it was much debated whether a suffragan bishop, or chorepiscopus (appointed to assist a diocesan), was ‘strictly and properly, of the order of bishops’. This was because: ‘one bishop was sufficient for their ordination (as it was declared at the Council of Antioch [citing Canon 10], and as the Body of the Canon Law delivers it [citing Dist 67]’; suffragans ‘might only ordain to the inferior offices of the Church, as that of sub-deacon’ and could do so ‘without the laying on of hands’ – ‘but [they] were not allowed to confer the orders of deacon or presbyter’. Gibson then explains: ‘But these differences and restraints were probably meant for no more, than marks of distinction, between them and the superior bishops, under whom they acted, to the end there might not be two bishops equal in the same diocese.’ Moreover, citing Beveridge he remarks that
there are other Canons, which say, that they might ordain the superior orders also, with the leave of the city bishop. And the most judicious writers have concluded them, (in their ancient state) to have been really of the order of bishops.
Gibson concludes: ‘so here in England, it is certain they were so’.Footnote 65
Our second example is from the civilian John Ayliffe in his book on English ecclesiastical law (1726). In his introduction he provides a history of canon and ecclesiastical law from the time of the Early Church. He cites Beveridge on several occasions. For instance: ‘John, Bishop of Antioch, commonly called Antiochenus, who lived in the sixth century, says, That our Lord's disciples and apostles did, by the means of Clemens, publish eighty-five Canons’, namely the so-called Canons of the Apostles. After discussing the contested Council of Trullo, Ayliffe writes: ‘And Bishop Beveridge has recorded this same number in his Codex Canonum, though Gregory Haloander has only inserted eighty-four of them in his Body of the Law.’ Ayliffe then explains how Jean Daillé, a French Reformed theologian, believed that ‘these Canons were made by some impostor or other’ and in 1689 Thomas Cambenus considered ‘these Canons to be suppositions’.Footnote 66 However, Ayliffe continues:
But Bishop Beveridge opposes this conjecture, and believes they were made either in the second or third century: So that all the Decrees of the Church, during the first century, being therein digested, they were as a Code unto the Primitive Church, according to which the Discipline and Policy of the Church was to be administered.
Ayliffe concurs:
I do easily assent and agree with Bishop Beveridge, that these Canons were made in the third century, since they are cited, and appealed to by the Ecclesiastical writers of the fourth century. Nor will I deny them proper authority, since they seem to have their rise from the doctrine of the Apostles; and, therefore, and for no other reason, they were called the Apostolical Canons.Footnote 67
The practice continued into the nineteenth century, but interest in Beveridge waned as reliance on the early canons declined in the exposition of English ecclesiastical law. We give three examples here: the first is use by a common law barrister, the second by a cleric-jurist, and the third by a civilian. The barrister Archibald John Stephens cites Beveridge once, in a note, in his 1848 book on Church law: he seems to rely on Gibson (though he does not say so), as the topic under discussion is that of suffragan bishops and Beveridge is described (as by Gibson) as being among ‘the most judicious writers’ on this matter. Incidentally, in the same note Stephens also cites the book Primitive Christianity (1676) by William Cave, Beveridge's contemporary at St John's College, Cambridge.Footnote 68 The Tractarian cleric Robert Owen, in his book on canon law (1884), cites Beveridge on many occasions; for example, he explains how the ‘stream of the Canon Law’ flows through, inter alia, the ‘Greek canons, published by Bishop Beveridge with the notes of Balsamon and [Joannes] Zonaras’.Footnote 69 Finally, Robert Phillimore, in the second edition of his ecclesiastical law book (1895), uses Beveridge in a note to the statement ‘It is remarkable that the eight General Councils on which the Eastern Church relies were convened by the authority of the Emperors of the East and West.’Footnote 70 However, in the latter part of the twentieth century and the early twenty-first, Beveridge makes no appearance in the two leading works on the historical development of literature on ecclesiastical law in England.Footnote 71
CONCLUSION
William Beveridge was a remarkable man. Born into a family of clerics, he followed the clerical path, through Cambridge, to parish ministry (as a model Restoration parson), a cathedral prebendary, the office of archdeacon and then episcopal office in Wales – where he showed a refreshingly enlightened, and practical, appreciation of the need to accommodate the Welsh language – en route turning down the offer of an English bishopric on grounds of its legality. It was this eye for the law which marks him out – the canon law was at the very heart of the Early Church, his theological ideal. Beveridge's Synodikon is an extraordinary work. It had a lasting impact far beyond the borders of the Anglican canonical tradition, leading Eastern Orthodox canon law to its modern era, through a return to the sources and structure of the canonical collections of the Byzantine Church. In this way, Beveridge is praised as a forerunner of juridical ecumenism, since the acclamatory reception of his Synodikon by the Eastern Orthodox canonists showed that the common canonical heritage transcends the barriers of the doctrinally separated Christian Churches.
However, his interest in law was not confined to the canons of the Early Church. His sermons, too, contain much of interest in their use of legal material, not simply the ancient canon law but also useful and practical observations about the Canons of 1603. This of itself is a valuable lesson in the fruitfulness of sermons as a source of new understandings of the historical development of ecclesiastical law. Crucially, in England, his loyalty to the High Church movement helped to guarantee the authority, utility and durability of his Synodikon (or Pandects) among later generations of commentators on ecclesiastical law. In turn, it was used somewhat by his contemporaries, notably Gibson and Ayliffe, but, in the nineteenth century, though the cleric Owen bucked the trend, Beveridge was cited on only one occasion in the texts of the common lawyer Stephens and the civilian Phillimore. It is time to rediscover him.