CHAPTER VI.

It is impossible to stop the growth of the mind. Here was Charles with

his thoughts turned away from religious controversy for two years, yet

with his religious views progressing, unknown to himself, the whole

time. It could not have been otherwise, if he was to live a religious

life at all. If he was to worship and obey his Creator, intellectual

acts, conclusions, and judgments, must accompany that worship and

obedience. He might not realize his own belief till questions had been

put to him; but then a single discussion with a friend, such as the

above with Carlton, would bring out what he really did hold to his own

apprehension--would ascertain for him the limits of each opinion as he

held it, and the inter-relations of opinion with opinion. He had not yet

given names to these opinions, much less had they taken a theological

form; nor could they, under his circumstances, be expressed in

theological language; but here he was, a young man of twenty-two,

professing in an hour's conversation with a friend, what really were the

Catholic doctrines and usages of penance, purgatory, councils of

perfection, mortification of self, and clerical celibacy. No wonder that

all this annoyed Carlton, though he no more than Charles perceived that

all this Catholicism did in fact lie hid under his professions; but he

felt, in what Reding put out, the presence of something, as he expressed

it, "very unlike the Church of England;" something new and unpleasant to

him, and withal something which had a body in it, which had a momentum,

which could not be passed over as a vague, sudden sound or transitory

cloud, but which had much behind it, which made itself felt, which

struck heavily.

And here we see what is meant when a person says that the Catholic

system comes home to his mind, fulfils his ideas of religion, satisfies

his sympathies, and the like; and thereupon becomes a Catholic. Such a

person is often said to go by private judgment, to be choosing his

religion by his own standard of what a religion ought to be. Now it need

not be denied that those who are external to the Church must begin with

private judgment; they use it in order ultimately to supersede it; as a

man out of doors uses a lamp in a dark night, and puts it out when he

gets home. What would be thought of his bringing it into his

drawing-room? what would the goodly company there assembled before a

genial hearth and under glittering chandeliers, the bright ladies and

the well-dressed gentlemen, say to him if he came in with a great-coat

on his back, a hat on his head, an umbrella under his arm, and a large

stable-lantern in his hand? Yet what would be thought, on the other

hand, if he precipitated himself into the inhospitable night and the war

of the elements in his ball-dress? "When the king came in to see the

guests, he saw a man who had not on a wedding-garment;" he saw a man who

determined to live in the Church as he had lived out of it, who would

not use his privileges, who would not exchange reason for faith, who

would not accommodate his thoughts and doings to the glorious scene

which surrounded him, who was groping for the hidden treasure and

digging for the pearl of price in the high, lustrous, all-jewelled

Temple of the Lord of Hosts; who shut his eyes and speculated, when he

might open them and see. There is no absurdity, then, or inconsistency

in a person first using his private judgment and then denouncing its

use. Circumstances change duties.

But still, after all, the person in question does not, strictly

speaking, judge of the external system presented to him by his private

ideas, but he brings in the dicta of that system to confirm and to

justify certain private judgments and personal feelings and habits

already existing. Reding, for instance, felt a difficulty in determining

how and when the sins of a Christian are forgiven; he had a great notion

that celibacy was better than married life. He was not the first person

in the Church of England who had had such thoughts; to numbers,

doubtless, before him they had occurred; but these numbers had looked

abroad, and seen nothing around them to justify what they felt, and

their feelings had, in consequence, either festered within them, or

withered away. But when a man, thus constituted within, falls under the

shadow of Catholicism without, then the mighty Creed at once produces an

influence upon him. He see that it justifies his thoughts, explains his

feelings; he understands that it numbers, corrects, harmonizes,

completes them; and he is led to ask what is the authority of this

foreign teaching; and then, when he finds it is what was once received

in England from north to south, in England from the very time that

Christianity was introduced here; that, as far as historical records go,

Christianity and Catholicism are synonymous; that it is still the faith

of the largest section of the Christian world; and that the faith of his

own country is held nowhere but within her own limits and those of her

own colonies; nay, further, that it is very difficult to say what faith

she has, or that she has any,--then he submits himself to the Catholic

Church, not by a process of criticism, but as a pupil to a teacher.

In saying this, of course it is not denied, on the one hand, that there

may be persons who come to the Catholic Church on imperfect motives, or

in a wrong way; who choose it by criticism, and who, unsubdued by its

majesty and its grace, go on criticizing when they are in it; and who,

if they persist and do not learn humility, may criticize themselves out

of it again. Nor is it denied, on the other hand, that some who are not

Catholics may possibly choose (for instance) Methodism, in the above

moral way, viz. because it confirms and justifies the inward feeling of

their hearts. This is certainly possible in idea, though what there is

venerable, awful, superhuman, in the Wesleyan Conference to persuade one

to take it as a prophet, is a perplexing problem; yet, after all, the

matter of fact we conceive to lie the other way, viz. that Wesleyans

and other sectaries put themselves above their system, not below it; and

though they may in bodily position "sit under" their preacher, yet in

the position of their souls and spirits, minds and judgments, they are

exalted high above him.

But to return to the subject of our narrative. What a mystery is the

soul of man! Here was Charles, busy with Aristotle and Euripides,

Thucydides and Lucretius, yet all the while growing towards the Church,

"to the measure of the age of the fulness of Christ." His mother had

said to him that he could not escape his destiny; it was true, though it

was to be fulfilled in a way which she, affectionate heart, could not

compass, did not dream of. He could not escape the destiny of being one

of the elect of God; he could not escape that destiny which the grace of

his Redeemer had stamped on his soul in baptism, which his good angel

had seen written there, and had done his zealous part to keep inviolate

and bright, which his own co-operation with the influences of Heaven had

confirmed and secured. He could not escape the destiny, in due time, in

God's time--though it might be long, though angels might be anxious,

though the Church might plead as if defrauded of her promised increase

of a stranger, yet a son; yet come it must, it was written in Heaven,

and the slow wheels of time each hour brought it nearer--he could not

ultimately escape his destiny of becoming a Catholic. And even before

that blessed hour, as an opening flower scatters sweets, so the strange

unknown odour, pleasing to some, odious to others, went abroad from him

upon the winds, and made them marvel what could be near them, and make

them look curiously and anxiously at him, while he was unconscious of

his own condition. Let us be patient with him, as his Maker is patient,

and bear that he should do a work slowly which he will do well.

Alas! while Charles had been growing in one direction, Sheffield had

been growing in another; and what that growth had been will appear from

a conversation which took place between the two friends, and which shall

be related in the following chapter.

Loss and gain · 第 6 / 22 章