contents with our Anglican standards remains unchanged, and
though it may be a matter of indifference to you, it is a matter
of real concern to me that the influence and development of
a mission conducted with such zeal and self-denial should be
in any way prejudiced in the eyes of those whose prayers and
sympathy ought not to go for nothing in your eyes, by the use
of a manual not vital to your ministrations, and but scantily
adopted in the Church.
“It is my hope and desire that you will consider the wisdom and
duty of quietly discontinuing it, when you can do so without
loss of self-respect, or feeling of giving way to ignorant
clamour; and I shall hope to hear from you before Trinity Sunday
that you have found yourself able to comply with this advice.
“Very truly yours,
“A. WINTON.”
I answered back at once, that I was quite ready to withdraw the book,
and to substitute another in its place, but that for my own sake I
should like to prove to him that there was no expression in it which
might not be discovered in the writings of the great Anglican divines,
and he wrote that he would be very glad to receive such a catena. Dear
Osborne at once set to work on a library of the Anglo-Catholic Fathers,
which we bought for the purpose, and submitted a defence to the Bishop.
Indeed the Bishop was kind enough to ask both of us to go to Farnham. I
think he was rather astonished when we arrived with a large trunk full
of books, but he was very patient while Osborne, who is a theologian,
which I am not, expounded out of Bramhall, Andrewes, and others, that
there has been a continual witness, oftentimes on the part of the most
learned prelates and authorities in the Church of England, to the right
to believe and to teach within its fold the doctrine of pleading the
Blessed Sacrament for the living and the dead, as was taught in the
little book.
This very characteristic letter left only one course possible to us,
the writing of a new book, which we did at once.
“FARNHAM CASTLE, SURREY,
“_January 21, 1893_.
“DEAR MR. DOLLING,
“I have now read, and with much interest, the extracts from the
writings of eminent Anglican divines on Eucharistic doctrine,
which you have collected with so much industry and laudable
anxiety to justify your own position.
“While I cannot admit--and in this you will doubtless concur
with me--that the _ipse dixit_ of any individual, eminent
and learned though he be, can accurately be quoted as the
mind of the Church at large, I have no wish to demur to the
authorities you quote as undeserving of great reverence and
consideration. It is also particularly agreeable to me, though
I have never expressed any doubt on the subject, to be assured
that your great desire is to be loyal to Anglican standards and
teaching, and that you have not knowingly transgressed them in
this instance.
“You will remember that on your own teaching I pronounced
no opinion whatever. It was the book used at S. Agatha’s
that seemed to deserve, and I still think deserves, my grave
remonstrance.
“After thinking it well over, I am clear that I should prefer
the withdrawal of the book, and your substituting for it one of
your own compiling. You will not be unwilling to introduce into
such a book, nor ashamed of so doing, more of the exact language
of our Prayer Book and of our Lord Himself. While it would be
inconsistent for me to sanction a book which from your own point
of view might in some of its statements widely diverge from that
I hold to be sound teaching, I could at least protect you in the
use of it. The last thing in the world I intend or desire is
to limit in the very least degree the liberty of the clergy to
hold and teach what may equitably be held to be supported and
countenanced by our standards. You know me well enough to trust
me when I say that I value your work, recognise your sacrifices,
cherish your friendship, and will gladly, so far as I can,
strengthen your hands.
“Your friend and father in God,
“A. WINTON.”
But in the meanwhile, to his astonishment as well as ours, a letter not
intended for publication, which he had written to the Secretary of the
Protestant Alliance, appeared in the papers:
“FARNHAM CASTLE, SURREY.
“SIR,--Since acknowledging your memorial, I have
procured and examined the S. Agatha’s Sunday School Book, and
have also referred it to one of my examining chaplains, in
whose learning and judgment I have great confidence. While I
do not consider that all the passages in it on which you have
animadverted can be accurately pronounced to be as distinctly
Roman in doctrine as you have not unreasonably conceived them to
be, the general substance of the book is, in my opinion, quite
irreconcilable with the Eucharistic teaching of the Church of
England; nay, I have no hesitation in saying that I consider the
general atmosphere and phraseology of the volume to be even more
objectionable and dangerous, than any of the precise expressions
which have caused you such intelligible offence.
“It is right, however, that I should here explain that, if I am
correctly informed, the officiating clergyman, when this book is
used, himself says nothing except what is in the Common Prayer
Book.
“At the present moment I am in correspondence with Mr. Dolling
on the subject; but I wish at once to observe that his work at
S. Agatha’s, though disfigured by errors and eccentricities,
which, in common with not a few of his truest friends, I
sincerely deprecate, is of a kind which very few other men are
capable of accomplishing, and reaches a class of society too
frequently left to itself out of sheer helplessness and despair.
“I have twice confirmed in S. Agatha’s Chapel, and have stayed
a night under Mr. Dolling’s roof, and have given myself ample
opportunity for observing and gauging the nature of his work,
and the measure of his personal influence in the neighbourhood
where he resides. In my opinion, the substantial good he is
enabled to effect by his self-denying and Christian activities
far outweighs by its usefulness any distress that may be caused
to those who are gravely alarmed by doctrines and practices
which they consider to be quite inconsistent with the standards
of the Reformed Church.
“With this view I hope to be able to continue to him my support
and countenance, in the belief that he will again be ready, as
he has already shown himself to be ready, to accept my fatherly
direction, when responsibly and kindly offered. Hereby he will
move out of the way of his undisputed usefulness causes of
offence which alienate outside sympathy and disappoint sincere
well-wishers on the spot, and will also, if at the sacrifice of
some cherished convictions, strengthen his own cause, and help
the work he loves.
“I am, your faithful servant,
“A. WINTON.”
At first it seemed that, in justice to ourselves, it would be necessary
to print the whole of our correspondence with the Bishop, and our
defence of the little book. But, after thinking the matter over, it
seemed best to leave things as they were. After all, it was no business
of the public, and the question would only have opened up a controversy
which would have done more harm than good. But the Bishop, with
extraordinary generosity, sent me a letter, which he allowed me, if I
thought it would serve a good purpose, to print:
“FARNHAM CASTLE, SURREY,
“_February 6, 1893_.
“DEAR MR. DOLLING,
“It was as disappointing to me as it must have been distressing
to you, that my reply to the complaint of the Secretary to the
Protestant Alliance, in which I do not find a syllable about
his intention to publish it, should have been sent to the papers
without my knowledge or sanction. But for our friendship all
hopes of arrangement might have been wrecked.
“You have intimated your willingness to withdraw the book of
which complaint has been made, and I think reasonably, and to
prepare another to be used in its place. I trust that the new
one will be less liable to misconstruction than the one you are
using now. While I have neither the desire nor the right to
arrogate to myself an infallible interpretation of the Church’s
standards, it is my plain duty to counsel, and even admonish,
where it is made plain to me that there is a divergence from
them. If this is not a Bishop’s duty, one of the most solemn
of his consecration vows becomes a hollow verbiage. I have no
sort of intention of withdrawing from you the countenance and
support which hitherto I have readily given to your work at S.
Agatha’s. To be consciously unjust to you is, I assure you, an
impossibility for me. But justice to you implies some sort of
justice to myself. You have never expected nor asked me to say
that with all your methods and teaching I can profess sympathy.
It is but straightforward for me to add that it is your
self-denying life, with the manly, generous activities behind
it which God is so manifestly blessing, that makes me more than
ready to condone what I and others would with satisfaction find
to be eliminated from your public services; and, in renewing an
expression of my good-will and personal affection, I desire not
to be thought to be acting inconsistently with the principles
and aspirations of a ministry of 44 years.
“Sincerely yours, A. WINTON.”
Nothing could exceed his kindness to us ever afterwards, and as his
eye ever had a twinkle in it, so his kindness had ever a delightful
playfulness. This letter of November 30th, 1893, will show how ready
he was to meet our wishes at personal inconvenience to himself.
“THE DEANERY, WINCHESTER.
“MY DEAR SIR,
“In reply to your letter of the 27th instant, the Bishop of
Winchester desires me to say that he has never yet fixed a day
that suited you, and never expects to be so fortunate. But, of
course, your confirmation shall be put off.
Faithfully yours,
“G. E. HITCHCOCK, _Chaplain_.”
This of March 28, 1894, was in answer to a request of mine for a
general licence in his diocese, as I had none, and, as I had been
elected to the Conference, it was supposed I might be objected to on
those grounds.
“FARNHAM CASTLE, SURREY.
“MY DEAR MR. DOLLING,
“A free lance will be wise to keep his freedom.
With all good-will,
Yours, A. WINTON.”
And this, of May 11, 1894, in explanation of a mistake he had made
about Mr. Dowglass, whom I had asked him to license as our curate.
“FARNHAM CASTLE, SURREY.
“MY DEAR MR. DOLLING,
“I receive your rebuke with becoming meekness. But if you had
so many things of all sorts in your head as I have, and were
continually on the drive, away from all books of reference, you
would be merciful to me for not always recognising the identity
of curates with not uncommon names.
“Mr. Dowglass has been excellently reported to me, and I am only
too glad to have him in the diocese, and, of course, I will
license him when his papers are ready, and sent in.
With much contrition,
“I am, always faithfully yours,
“A. WINTON.”
I might just add one proof of his real liberality. On the death of my
friend and neighbour, Mr. Shute, who had created, with wonderful energy
and untiring zeal, S. Michael’s, the church next to ours, the Bishop
offered the incumbency to my fellow-priest Osborne, who had so ably
defended the little book which the Bishop had condemned.
He took, too, a continual interest in the building of our new church.
He saw all the plans, and himself suggested that it would not need a
new licence, so that all formality and red tape might be prevented.
Above all he urged us to move in all our memorials, and to make the
church as homely as we possibly could for our poor. A passion for
the poor consumed his heart, and he seemed to have kept them and the
outcast always in his mind, often asking me about someone whose story
I had told him perhaps a year before, and not only treating me in his
own house with the greatest tenderness and affection, but on public
occasions like the Diocesan Conference, when I felt it my duty to say
things about the Establishment and Social Questions, which few of my
brethren agreed with, he always gained for me a patient hearing, and
often said kindly things afterwards. Alas! if he had lived a little
longer, I should have been still at S. Agatha’s; and yet who could wish
him to live, when every hour was but an agony, and only an intense
sense of duty enabled him bravely to bear the burden of his flesh,
which he was so willing to surrender at any moment into his loving
Master’s hands.
I am only sorry that my own angry passions and bitter way of looking at
questions have, from time to time, moved me to say and write unkind
and unworthy things about him. But from the first day I ever saw him I
was conscious of a real love and affection, which deepened, until God
took him, and which will ever remain in my mind as a special grace and
gift of God, granted to me through four of the most difficult years of
my life.
I had often talked with Bishop Thorold of a fitting time for me to
leave Portsmouth, and he had agreed with me that, as soon as the
people were accustomed to the new church, I might resign. We had hoped
that the church might be opened on the first Sunday in October. It
was the anniversary of my taking full charge of the Mission, and the
progress of the parish had been marked each year by the dedication to
the glory of God and the use of our people, of some special piece of
parish machinery. I was greatly in need of rest, for my work, with its
threefold responsibility at Landport, Winchester, and begging, was
beginning to tell upon me, and for the last four years I had not had
one single day’s holiday. If the church were opened on the first Sunday
in October, I thought it would be quite permissible for me to leave the
following Easter, and I had told Dr. Fearon of this intention. When
I announced this to our own people, they at once began to make every
effort to induce me to alter my determination.
But in the meantime two circumstances had happened which disarranged
all our plans. First, Bishop Thorold died; and secondly, we discovered
the church could not be opened till quite the end of October. It had
been my boast that the whole fabric of the church was completed by
Portsmouth men, and I can never speak too highly of the punctuality
and excellence of their work. The builders, Messrs. Light and
Son--Portsmouth is mourning now the head of the firm, one of the most
useful, honoured, and respected of its citizens--Townsend, the foreman,
indeed all down to the men who mixed the mortar, and the boys who ran
the messages, had striven to make the church the enormous success
that it is. But we had employed a London firm to do the wood flooring
and the marble work. Their workmen were Italians; and Light’s men,
all Trade Unionists, almost refused to work with them, because they
said that they did not work for a proper rate of wages. However, the
arrangement had been made, and so, though the foreman told me he was
sure I would suffer for employing them, the work had to go on. They had
a row amongst themselves their first Saturday, and one got stabbed in
the hand, but, be the cause what it was, we found that the opening of
the church must be delayed a month. On September 28th I wrote to Bishop
Davidson, telling him that the church would be opened on October 27th,
and saying that Dr. Thorold had thought that no new licence would be
needed, as the old and the new church were practically joined together
by the vestry. I heard from him on October 4th, saying that though he
himself thought that it would be better that a new licence should be
given to the new building, yet Bishop Thorold’s opinion would justify
us going forward with our arrangements, and that he would let us know
later on. On October 17th we heard from him that he had considered the
question of the new licence, and it seemed clear to him that it ought
to be granted, and that the Rural Dean would visit us for the purpose
of inspecting the building.
In the meantime a dear friend had told us that the Bishop was hurt
at not being asked to take part in the opening services. The friend,
I afterwards discovered, was perfectly mistaken in his judgment; but
acting on that information, I wrote to the Bishop to explain why I had
not asked him to be present at the opening, and I thought the best way
to show him that no disrespect was intended was by telling him that I
had not intended asking Bishop Thorold, because I knew that our manner
of service would pain him very deeply.
On October 24th, I received a long letter from the Bishop, the purport
of which was that he could not grant the licence, until a question
so important as the third altar had been submitted to the proper
authorities, or the altar itself had been removed, but saying that he
would be glad to see me the next morning. And so on October 25th, I
spent the morning at Farnham.
Nothing could exceed the Bishop’s kindness and straightforwardness
during that interview. He is a man of most delightful manners. A
theologian at Oxford said of him, soon after his appointment to the
Deanery of Windsor: “He is a Nuncio already,” though he slily added,
“but not from Peter.” But I felt a good deal more than the mere charm
of his manner. He was evidently conscious that we were both in a very
difficult position. He seemed most desirous to do his duty towards me
and my people, and deeply felt the responsibility that was resting
on him. At the very outset of our conversation he said, “This is no
red-tape question of three altars, but of the services said at those
altars.” When I proposed to him that we should continue in the old
church until his judgment was pronounced, he seemed to feel that it
would be a mistake to upset the existing arrangements, and that it
would be better to screen off the third altar for the present and
proceed with the opening. I gave in to his desire at once, though I
had brought with me fifty-two telegrams ready for despatch should the
opening be delayed. When I got home, those who worked with me were very
distressed that I had not put off the opening, and I feel now that
they were certainly right, and that much pain and a certain amount
of scandal to the Church might have been saved if I had pursued this
course.
So we opened the new church on October 27th. Dr. Fearon had arranged
for the masters and men at Winchester to come down on the Monday after
the opening, and I had asked the Bishop of Southwell, the founder of
the Mission, to come and preach to them. He not only consented to do
this, but offered to preach the first sermon in the new church on the
Sunday morning at 11 o’clock. When he came down on the night before,
he kindly sent word to say that he would celebrate at 8 o’clock the
next morning. There were more than four hundred communicants at the
four early services, and at 11 we started to take possession of the new
church. I, who remembered the hooting and stoning of ten years ago,
could hardly believe it was the same place. Mr. Dyer-Edwardes, a great
benefactor to the Mission, had lent us a magnificent silver crucifix
to be carried in front of the procession, but everything else in the
procession belonged to the Mission. Dear Barratt, the truest friend a
priest has ever had, with the incense, and then our little choir lads,
and our choirmen, such loyal and earnest supporters of the Mission;
then the acolytes in red, most of whom had been with me ever since they
were little children, directed by Pennell, our ceremoniarius, then the
Bishop in his convocation robes, who, not desiring to pontificate,
walked before the unworthy priest who was to sing the first Mass in
the new S. Agatha’s. Directly behind me, leading the congregation, Mr.
White and Mr. Claxon, who have acted as churchwardens during the ten
years, and then an innumerable number of parishioners and old friends,
who had come home for the day. There was, I think, through the whole
of that crowd, blocking up all the streets and making it difficult for
us to pass through them, but one attitude of respect, I might even
say of affection, and a realising, too, that a great act of worship
was being offered to that God, Who is our common Father. If, when the
procession entered the building, there was a little unseemly rush, that
was not to be wondered at. Even at S. Peter’s, in the presence of the
Pope, English people do not always behave reverently and well. But long
before I had gained the altar there was a hush of reverent devotion,
and the wonderful beauty of the church made itself, for the first time,
manifest, its dignity and simplicity, its fittingness for magnificent
worship, and, above all, its excellent acoustic properties--a proud
moment, indeed, for Mr. Ball, the architect, and if it had not been
for the shadow which the covering of the third altar threw over my
troubled heart, a proud moment for me.
Many letters, which will be found in an appendix, passed between
the Bishop and myself. On November 15th, at his kind invitation, I
spent a long morning at Farnham. I was suffering from a bad attack of
influenza at the time. The Bishop’s position and mine were naturally
very difficult, for he had to discover matter for judgment out of the
mouth of the accused. I am quite conscious of not being a theologian,
and I answered as plainly and as simply as I could all his questions,
and I am since aware that I used an expression, which he afterwards
quoted in his judgment, which may be very liable to misconstruction. My
intercourse with Dr. Thorold had been so very different. There had been
perfect freedom in all conversations between us, nay more, I had often
volunteered information which he had not asked for. A hundred times
the memory of him flashed across my mind, and his many words of prayer
came back again and again to my remembrance. I was sitting in the same
study, but now I was accused, and I was conscious that my own and my
people’s happiness, nay, perhaps the safety of weak, timid souls, was
hanging in the balance. I pray that none of my readers may ever have
such an hour and a half as I passed at Farnham.