Much as Charles loved and prized the company of his mother and sisters
he was not sorry to have gentlemen's society, so he accepted with
pleasure an invitation which Bateman sent him to dine with him at
Melford. Also he wished to show Bateman, what no protestation could
effect, how absurdly exaggerated were the reports which were circulated
about him. And as the said Bateman, with all his want of common sense,
was really a well-informed man, and well read in English divines, he
thought he might incidentally hear something from him which he could
turn to account. When he got to Melford he found a Mr. Campbell had been
asked to meet him; a young Cambridge rector of a neighbouring parish, of
the same religious sentiments on the whole as Bateman, and, though a
little positive, a man of clear head and vigorous mind.
They had been going over the church; and the conversation at dinner
turned on the revival of Gothic architecture--an event which gave
unmixed satisfaction to all parties. The subject would have died out,
almost as soon as it was started, for want of a difference upon it, had
not Bateman happily gone on boldly to declare that, if he had his will,
there should be no architecture in the English churches but Gothic, and
no music but Gregorian. This was a good thesis, distinctly put, and gave
scope for a very pretty quarrel. Reding said that all these adjuncts of
worship, whether music or architecture, were national; they were the
mode in which religious feeling showed itself in particular times and
places. He did not mean to say that the outward expression of religion
in a country might not be guided, but it could not be forced; that it
was as preposterous to make people worship in one's own way, as be merry
in one's own way. "The Greeks," he said, "cut the hair in grief, the
Romans let it grow; the Orientals veiled their heads in worship, the
Greeks uncovered them; Christians take off their hats in a church,
Mahometans their shoes; a long veil is a sign of modesty in Europe, of
immodesty in Asia. You may as well try to change the size of people, as
their forms of worship. Bateman, we must cut you down a foot, and then
you shall begin your ecclesiastical reforms."
"But surely, my worthy friend," answered Bateman, "you don't mean to say
that there is no natural connexion between internal feeling and outward
expression, so that one form is no better than another?"
"Far from it," answered Charles; "but let those who confine their music
to Gregorians put up crucifixes in the highways. Each is the
representative of a particular place or time."
"That's what I say of our good friend's short coat and long cassock,"
said Campbell; "it is a confusion of different times, ancient and
modern."
"Or of different ideas," said Charles, "the cassock Catholic, the coat
Protestant."
"The reverse," said Bateman; "the cassock is old Hooker's Anglican
habit: the coat comes from Catholic France."
"Anyhow, it is what Mr. Reding calls a mixture of ideas," said Campbell;
"and that's the difficulty I find in uniting Gothic and Gregorians."
"Oh, pardon me," said Bateman, "they are one idea; they are both
eminently Catholic."
"You can't be more Catholic than Rome, I suppose," said Campbell; "yet
there's no Gothic there."
"Rome is a peculiar place," said Bateman; "besides, my dear friend, if
we do but consider that Rome has corrupted the pure apostolic doctrine,
can we wonder that it should have a corrupt architecture?"
"Why, then, go to Rome for Gregorians?" said Campbell; "I suspect they
are called after Gregory I. Bishop of Rome, whom Protestants consider
the first specimen of Antichrist."
"It's nothing to us what Protestants think," answered Bateman.
"Don't let us quarrel about terms," said Campbell; "both you and I think
that Rome has corrupted the faith, whether she is Antichrist or not. You
said so yourself just now."
"It is true, I did," said Bateman; "but I make a little distinction. The
Church of Rome has not _corrupted_ the faith, but has _admitted_
corruptions among her people."
"It won't do," answered Campbell; "depend on it, we can't stand our
ground in controversy unless we in our hearts think very severely of the
Church of Rome."
"Why, what's Rome to us?" asked Bateman; "we come from the old British
Church; we don't meddle with Rome, and we wish Rome not to meddle with
us, but she will."
"Well," said Campbell, "you but read a bit of the history of the
Reformation, and you will find that the doctrine that the Pope is
Antichrist was the life of the movement."
"With Ultra-Protestants, not with us," answered Bateman.
"Such Ultra-Protestants as the writers of the Homilies," said Campbell;
"but, I say again, I am not contending for names; I only mean, that as
that doctrine was the life of the Reformation, so a belief, which I have
and you too, that there is something bad, corrupt, perilous in the
Church of Rome--that there is a spirit of Antichrist living in her,
energizing in her, and ruling her--is necessary to a man's being a good
Anglican. You must believe this, or you ought to go to Rome."
"Impossible! my dear friend," said Bateman; "all our doctrine has been
that Rome and we are sister Churches."
"I say," said Campbell, "that without this strong repulsion you will not
withstand the great claims, the overcoming attractions, of the Church of
Rome. She is our mother--oh, that word 'mother!'--a mighty mother! She
opens her arms--oh, the fragrance of that bosom! She is full of
gifts--I feel it, I have long felt it. Why don't I rush into her arms?
Because I feel that she is ruled by a spirit which is not she. But did
that distrust of her go from me, was that certainty which I have of her
corruption disproved, I should join her communion to-morrow."
"This is not very edifying doctrine for Reding," thought Bateman. "Oh,
my good Campbell," he said, "you are paradoxical to-day."
"Not a bit of it," answered Campbell; "our Reformers felt that the only
way in which they could break the tie of allegiance which bound us to
Rome was the doctrine of her serious corruption. And so it is with our
divines. If there is one doctrine in which they agree, it is that Rome
is Antichrist, or an Antichrist. Depend upon it, that doctrine is
necessary for our position."
"I don't quite understand that language," said Reding; "I see it is used
in various publications. It implies that controversy is a game, and that
disputants are not looking out for truth, but for arguments."
"You must not mistake me, Mr. Reding," answered Campbell; "all I mean
is, that you have no leave to trifle with your conviction that Rome is
antichristian, if you think so. For if it _is_ so, it is necessary to
_say_ so. A poet says, 'Speak _gently_ of our sister's _fall_:' no, if
it is a fall, we must not speak gently of it. At first one says, 'So
great a Church! who am I, to speak against her?' Yes, you must, if your
view of her is true: 'Tell truth and shame the Devil.' Recollect you
don't use your own words; you are sanctioned, protected by all our
divines. You must, else you can give no sufficient reason for not
joining the Church of Rome. You must speak out, not what you _don't_
think, but what you _do_ think, _if_ you do think it."
"Here's a doctrine!" thought Charles; "why it's putting the controversy
into a nutshell."
Bateman interposed. "My dear Campbell," he said, "you are behind the
day. We have given up all that abuse against Rome."
"Then the party is not so clever as I give them credit for being,"
answered Campbell; "be sure of this,--those who have given up their
protests against Rome, either are looking towards her, or have no eyes
to see."
"All we say," answered Bateman, "is, as I said before, that _we_ don't
wish to interfere with Rome; _we_ don't anathematize Rome--Rome
anathematizes _us_."
"It won't do," said Campbell; "those who resolve to remain in our
Church, and are using sweet words of Romanism, will be forced back upon
their proper ground in spite of themselves, and will get no thanks for
their pains. No man can serve two masters; either go to Rome, or condemn
Rome. For me, the Romish Church has a great deal in it which I can't get
over; and thinking so, much as I admire it in parts, I can't help
speaking, I can't help it. It would not be honest, and it would not be
consistent."
"Well, he has ended better than he began," thought Bateman; and he
chimed in, "Oh yes, true, too true; it's painful to see it, but there's
a great deal in the Church of Rome which no man of plain sense, no
reader of the Fathers, no Scripture student, no true member of the
Anglo-Catholic Church can possibly stomach." This put a corona on the
discussion; and the rest of the dinner passed off pleasantly indeed, but
not very intellectually.