Part V

History of My Religious Opinions--1839-1841

And now that I am about to trace, as far as I can, the course of that

great revolution of mind, which led me to leave my own home, to which

I was bound by so many strong and tender ties, I feel overcome with

the difficulty of satisfying myself in my account of it, and have

recoiled from doing so, till the near approach of the day, on which

these lines must be given to the world, forces me to set about

the task. For who can know himself, and the multitude of subtle

influences which act upon him? and who can recollect, at the distance

of twenty-five years, all that he once knew about his thoughts and

his deeds, and that, during a portion of his life, when even at the

time his observation, whether of himself or of the external world,

was less than before or after, by very reason of the perplexity and

dismay which weighed upon him,--when, though it would be most

unthankful to seem to imply that he had not all-sufficient light amid

his darkness, yet a darkness it emphatically was? And who can gird

himself suddenly to a new and anxious undertaking, which he might be

able indeed to perform well, had he full and calm leisure to look

through everything that he has written, whether in published works

or private letters? but, on the other hand, as to that calm

contemplation of the past, in itself so desirable, who can afford to

be leisurely and deliberate, while he practises on himself a cruel

operation, the ripping up of old griefs, and the venturing again upon

the "infandum dolorem" of years, in which the stars of this lower

heaven were one by one going out? I could not in cool blood, nor

except upon the imperious call of duty, attempt what I have set

myself to do. It is both to head and heart an extreme trial, thus to

analyse what has so long gone by, and to bring out the results of

that examination. I have done various bold things in my life: this is

the boldest: and, were I not sure I should after all succeed in my

object, it would be madness to set about it.

In the spring of 1839 my position in the Anglican Church was at its

height. I had supreme confidence in my controversial _status_, and I

had a great and still growing success, in recommending it to others.

I had in the foregoing autumn been somewhat sore at the bishop's

charge, but I have a letter which shows that all annoyance had passed

from my mind. In January, if I recollect aright, in order to meet the

popular clamour against myself and others, and to satisfy the bishop,

I had collected into one all the strong things which they, and

especially I, had said against the Church of Rome, in order to their

insertion among the advertisements appended to our publications.

Conscious as I was that my opinions in religion were not gained, as

the world said, from Roman sources, but were, on the contrary, the

birth of my own mind and of the circumstances in which I had been

placed, I had a scorn of the imputations which were heaped upon me.

It was true that I held a large bold system of religion, very unlike

the Protestantism of the day, but it was the concentration and

adjustment of the statements of great Anglican authorities, and I had

as much right to do so as the Evangelical party had, and more right

than the Liberal, to hold their own respective doctrines. As I spoke

on occasion of Tract 90, I claimed, in behalf of who would, that he

might hold in the Anglican Church a comprecation with the saints with

Bramhall, and the Mass all but transubstantiation with Andrewes,

or with Hooker that transubstantiation itself is not a point for

Churches to part communion upon, or with Hammond that a general

council, truly such, never did, never shall err in a matter of faith,

or with Bull that man lost inward grace by the fall, or with

Thorndike that penance is a propitiation for post-baptismal sin, or

with Pearson that the all-powerful name of Jesus is no otherwise

given than in the Catholic Church. "Two can play at that," was often

in my mouth, when men of Protestant sentiments appealed to the

Articles, Homilies, or Reformers; in the sense that, if they had a

right to speak loud, I had both the liberty and the means of giving

them tit for tat. I thought that the Anglican Church had been

tyrannised over by a party, and I aimed at bringing into effect the

promise contained in the motto to the Lyra, "They shall know the

difference now." I only asked to be allowed to show them the

difference.

What will best describe my state of mind at the early part of 1839,

is an article in the _British Critic_ for that April. I have looked

over it now, for the first time since it was published; and have been

struck by it for this reason:--it contains the last words which I

ever spoke as an Anglican to Anglicans. It may now be read as my

parting address and valediction, made to my friends. I little knew it

at the time. It reviews the actual state of things, and it ends by

looking towards the future. It is not altogether mine; for my memory

goes to this,--that I had asked a friend to do the work; that then,

the thought came on me, that I would do it myself: and that he was

good enough to put into my hands what he had with great appositeness

written, and I embodied it into my article. Every one, I think, will

recognise the greater part of it as mine. It was published two years

before the affair of Tract 90, and was entitled "The State of

Religious Parties."

In this article, I begin by bringing together testimonies from our

enemies to the remarkable success of our exertions. One writer said:

"Opinions and views of a theology of a very marked and peculiar kind

have been extensively adopted and strenuously upheld, and are daily

gaining ground among a considerable and influential portion of the

members, as well as ministers of the Established Church." Another:

The Movement has manifested itself "with the most rapid growth of the

hot-bed of these evil days." Another: "The _Via Media_ is crowded

with young enthusiasts, who never presume to argue, except against

the propriety of arguing at all." Another: "Were I to give you a full

list of the works, which they have produced within the short space of

five years, I should surprise you. You would see what a task it would

be to make yourself complete master of their system, even in its

present probably immature state. The writers have adopted the motto,

'In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.' With regard

to confidence, they have justified their adopting it; but as to

quietness, it is not very quiet to pour forth such a succession of

controversial publications." Another: "The spread of these doctrines

is in fact now having the effect of rendering all other distinctions

obsolete, and of severing the religious community into two portions,

fundamentally and vehemently opposed one to the other. Soon there

will be no middle ground left; and every man, and especially every

clergyman, will be compelled to make his choice between the two."

Another: "The time has gone by, when those unfortunate and deeply

regretted publications can be passed over without notice, and the

hope that their influence would fail is now dead." Another: "These

doctrines had already made fearful progress. One of the largest

churches in Brighton is crowded to hear them; so is the church at

Leeds. There are few towns of note, to which they have not extended.

They are preached in small towns in Scotland. They obtain in

Elginshire, 600 miles north of London. I found them myself in the

heart of the highlands of Scotland. They are advocated in the

newspaper and periodical press. They have even insinuated themselves

into the House of Commons." And, lastly, a bishop in a charge:--It

"is daily assuming a more serious and alarming aspect. Under the

specious pretence of deference to Antiquity and respect for primitive

models, the foundations of the Protestant Church are undermined by

men, who dwell within her walls, and those who sit in the Reformers'

seat are traducing the Reformation."

After thus stating the phenomenon of the time, as it presented itself

to those who did not sympathise in it, the Article proceeds to

account for it; and this it does by considering it as a reaction from

the dry and superficial character of the religious teaching and the

literature of the last generation, or century, and as a result of

the need which was felt both by the hearts and the intellects of

the nation for a deeper philosophy, and as the evidence and as the

partial fulfilment of that need, to which even the chief authors

of the then generation had borne witness. First, I mentioned the

literary influence of Walter Scott, who turned men's minds to the

direction of the middle ages. "The general need," I said, "of

something deeper and more attractive, than what had offered itself

elsewhere, may be considered to have led to his popularity; and by

means of his popularity he reacted on his readers, stimulating their

mental thirst, feeding their hopes, setting before them visions,

which, when once seen, are not easily forgotten, and silently

indoctrinating them with nobler ideas, which might afterwards be

appealed to as first principles."

Then I spoke of Coleridge, thus: "While history in prose and verse

was thus made the instrument of Church feelings and opinions, a

philosophical basis for the same was laid in England by a very

original thinker, who, while he indulged a liberty of speculation,

which no Christian can tolerate, and advocated conclusions which

were often heathen rather than Christian, yet after all instilled a

higher philosophy into inquiring minds, than they had hitherto been

accustomed to accept. In this way he made trial of his age, and

succeeded in interesting its genius in the cause of Catholic truth."

Then come Southey and Wordsworth, "two living poets, one of whom in

the department of fantastic fiction, the other in that of

philosophical meditation, have addressed themselves to the same high

principles and feelings, and carried forward their readers in the

same direction."

Then comes the prediction of this reaction hazarded by "a sagacious

observer withdrawn from the world, and surveying its movements from a

distance," Mr. Alexander Knox. He had said twenty years before the

date of my writing: "No Church on earth has more intrinsic excellence

than the English Church, yet no Church probably has less practical

influence ... The rich provision, made by the grace and providence of

God, for habits of a noble kind, is evidence that men shall arise,

fitted both by nature and ability, to discover for themselves, and

to display to others, whatever yet remains undiscovered, whether in

the words or works of God." Also I referred to "a much venerated

clergyman of the last generation," who said shortly before his death,

"Depend on it, the day will come, when those great doctrines, now

buried, will be brought out to the light of day, and then the effect

will be fearful." I remarked upon this, that they who "now blame the

impetuosity of the current, should rather turn their animadversions

upon those who have dammed up a majestic river, till it had become a

flood."

These being the circumstances under which the Movement began and

progressed, it was absurd to refer it to the act of two or three

individuals. It was not so much a movement as a "spirit afloat;" it

was within us, "rising up in hearts where it was least suspected, and

working itself, though not in secret, yet so subtly and impalpably,

as hardly to admit of precaution or encounter on any ordinary human

rules of opposition. It is," I continued, "an adversary in the air, a

something one and entire, a whole wherever it is, unapproachable and

incapable of being grasped, as being the result of causes far deeper

than political or other visible agencies, the spiritual awakening of

spiritual wants."

To make this clear, I proceed to refer to the chief preachers of the

revived doctrines at that moment, and to draw attention to the

variety of their respective antecedents. Dr. Hook and Mr. Churton

represented the high Church dignitaries of the last century; Mr.

Perceval, the tory aristocracy; Mr. Keble came from a country

parsonage; Mr. Palmer from Ireland; Dr. Pusey from the Universities

of Germany, and the study of Arabic MSS.; Mr. Dodsworth from the

study of Prophecy; Mr. Oakeley had gained his views, as he himself

expressed it, "partly by study, partly by reflection, partly by

conversation with one or two friends, inquirers like himself;" while

I speak of myself as being "much indebted to the friendship of

Archbishop Whately." And thus I am led on to ask, "What head of a

sect is there? What march of opinions can be traced from mind to mind

among preachers such as these? They are one and all in their degree

the organs of one Sentiment, which has risen up simultaneously in

many places very mysteriously."

My train of thought next led me to speak of the disciples of the

Movement, and I freely acknowledged and lamented that they needed to

be kept in order. It is very much to the purpose to draw attention to

this point now, when such extravagances as then occurred, whatever

they were, are simply laid to my door, or to the charge of the

doctrines which I advocated. A man cannot do more than freely confess

what is wrong, say that it need not be, that it ought not to be, and

that he is very sorry that it should be. Now I said in the Article,

which I am reviewing, that the great truths themselves, which we were

preaching, must not be condemned on account of such abuse of them.

"Aberrations there must ever be, whatever the doctrine is, while the

human heart is sensitive, capricious, and wayward. A mixed multitude

went out of Egypt with the Israelites." "There will ever be a number

of persons," I continued, "professing the opinions of a movement

party, who talk loudly and strangely, do odd or fierce things,

display themselves unnecessarily, and disgust other people; persons,

too young to be wise, too generous to be cautious, too warm to be

sober, or too intellectual to be humble. Such persons will be very

apt to attach themselves to particular persons, to use particular

names, to say things merely because others do, and to act in a

party-spirited way."

While I thus republish what I then said about such extravagances as

occurred in these years, at the same time I have a very strong

conviction that they furnished quite as much the welcome excuse for

those who were jealous or shy of us, as the stumbling-blocks of

those who were well inclined to our doctrines. This too we felt at

the time; but it was our duty to see that our good should not be

evil-spoken of; and accordingly, two or three of the writers of the

Tracts for the Times had commenced a Series of what they called

"Plain Sermons" with the avowed purpose of discouraging and

correcting whatever was uppish or extreme in our followers: to this

series I contributed a volume myself.

Its conductors say in their Preface: "If therefore as time goes on,

there shall be found persons, who admiring the innate beauty and

majesty of the fuller system of Primitive Christianity, and seeing

the transcendent strength of its principles, _shall become loud and

voluble advocates_ in their behalf, speaking the more freely,

_because they do not feel them deeply as founded_ in divine and

eternal truth, of such persons _it is our duty to declare plainly_,

that, as we should contemplate their condition with serious

misgiving, _so would they be the last persons from whom we should_

seek support.

"But if, on the other hand, there shall be any, who, in the silent

humility of their lives, and in their unaffected reverence for holy

things, show that they in truth accept these principles as real and

substantial, and by habitual purity of heart and serenity of temper,

give proof of their deep veneration for sacraments and sacramental

ordinances, those persons, _whether our professed adherents or not_,

best exemplify the kind of character which the writers of the Tracts

for the Times have wished to form."

These clergymen had the best of claims to use these beautiful words,

for they were themselves, all of them, important writers in the

Tracts, the two Mr. Kebles, and Mr. Isaac Williams. And this passage,

with which they ushered their Series into the world, I quoted in the

Article, of which I am giving an account, and I added, "What more can

be required of the preachers of neglected truth, than that they

should admit that some, who do not assent to their preaching, are

holier and better men than some who do?" They were not answerable for

the intemperance of those who dishonoured a true doctrine, provided

they protested, as they did, against such intemperance. "They were

not answerable for the dust and din which attends any great moral

movement. The truer doctrines are, the more liable they are to be

perverted."

The notice of these incidental faults of opinion or temper in

adherents of the Movement, led on to a discussion of the secondary

causes, by means of which a system of doctrine may be embraced,

modified, or developed, of the variety of schools which may all be in

the One Church, and of the succession of one phase of doctrine to

another, while it is ever one and the same. Thus I was brought on to

the subject of Antiquity, which was the basis of the doctrine of the

_Via Media_, and by which was not implied a servile imitation of the

past, but such a reproduction of it as is really young, while it is

old. "We have good hope," I say, "that a system will be rising up,

superior to the age, yet harmonising with, and carrying out its

higher points, which will attract to itself those who are willing to

make a venture and to face difficulties, for the sake of something

higher in prospect. On this, as on other subjects, the proverb will

apply, 'Fortes fortuna adjuvat.'"

Lastly, I proceeded to the question of that future of the Anglican

Church, which was to be a new birth of the Ancient Religion. And I

did not venture to pronounce upon it. "About the future, we have no

prospect before our minds whatever, good or bad. Ever since that

great luminary, Augustine, proved to be the last bishop of Hippo,

Christians have had a lesson against attempting to foretell, _how_

Providence will prosper and" [or?] "bring to an end, what it begins."

Perhaps the lately-revived principles would prevail in the Anglican

Church; perhaps they would be lost in "some miserable schism, or some

more miserable compromise; but there was nothing rash in venturing to

predict that "neither Puritanism nor Liberalism had any permanent

inheritance within her." I suppose I meant to say that in the present

age, without the aid of apostolic principles, the Anglican Church

would, in the event, cease to exist.

"As to Liberalism, we think the formularies of the Church will ever,

with the aid of a good Providence, keep it from making any serious

inroads upon the Clergy. Besides, it is too cold a principle to

prevail with the multitude." But as regarded what was called

Evangelical Religion or Puritanism, there was more to cause alarm.

I observed upon its organisation; but on the other hand it had no

intellectual basis; no internal idea, no principle of unity, no

theology. "Its adherents," I said, "are already separating from

each other; they will melt away like a snow-drift. It has no

straightforward view on any one point, on which it professes to

teach; and to hide its poverty, it has dressed itself out in a maze

of words. We have no dread of it at all; we only fear what it may

lead to. It does not stand on intrenched ground, or make any pretence

to a position; it does but occupy the space between contending

powers, Catholic Truth and Rationalism. Then indeed will be the stern

encounter, when two real and living principles, simple, entire, and

consistent, one in the Church, the other out of it, at length rush

upon each other, contending not for names and words, or half-views,

but for elementary notions and distinctive moral characters."

Whether the ideas of the coming age upon religion were true or false,

they would be real. "In the present day," I said, "mistiness is the

mother of wisdom. A man who can set down half-a-dozen general

propositions, which escape from destroying one another only by being

diluted into truisms, who can hold the balance between opposites so

skilfully as to do without fulcrum or beam, who never enunciates a

truth without guarding himself against being supposed to exclude the

contradictory--who holds that Scripture is the only authority, yet

that the Church is to be deferred to, that faith only justifies, yet

that it does not justify without works, that grace does not depend on

the sacraments, yet is not given without them, that bishops are a

divine ordinance, yet those who have them not are in the same

religious condition as those who have--this is your safe man and the

hope of the Church; this is what the Church is said to want, not

party men, but sensible, temperate, sober, well-judging persons, to

guide it through the channel of no-meaning, between the Scylla and

Charybdis of Aye and No."

This state of things, however, I said, could not last, if men were to

read and think. They "will not keep standing in that very attitude

which you call sound Church-of-Englandism or orthodox Protestantism.

They cannot go on for ever standing on one leg, or sitting without a

chair, or walking with their feet tied, or grazing like Tityrus's

stags in the air. They will take one view or another, but it will be

a consistent view. It may be Liberalism, or Erastianism, or Popery,

or Catholicity; but it will be real."

I concluded the article by saying, that all who did not wish to be

"democratic, or pantheistic, or popish," must "look out for _some_

Via Media which will preserve us from what threatens, though it

cannot restore the dead. The spirit of Luther is dead; but Hildebrand

and Loyola are alive. Is it sensible, sober, judicious, to be so very

angry with those writers of the day, who point to the fact, that our

divines of the seventeenth century have occupied a ground which is

the true and intelligible mean between extremes? Is it wise to

quarrel with this ground, because it is not exactly what we should

choose, had we the power of choice? Is it true moderation, instead of

trying to fortify a middle doctrine, to fling stones at those who do?

... Would you rather have your sons and daughters members of the

Church of England or of the Church of Rome?"

And thus I left the matter. But, while I was thus speaking of the

future of the Movement, I was in truth winding up my accounts with

it, little dreaming that it was so to be;--while I was still, in some

way or other, feeling about for an available _Via Media_, I was soon

to receive a shock which was to cast out of my imagination all middle

courses and compromises for ever. As I have said, this article

appeared in the April number of the _British Critic_; in the July

number, I cannot tell why, there is no article of mine; before the

number for October, the event had happened to which I have alluded.

But before I proceed to describe what happened to me in the summer of

1839, I must detain the reader for a while, in order to describe the

_issue_ of the controversy between Rome and the Anglican Church, as I

viewed it. This will involve some dry discussion; but it is as

necessary for my narrative, as plans of buildings and homesteads are

often found to be in the proceedings of our law courts.

I have said already that, though the object of the Movement was to

withstand the liberalism of the day, I found and felt this could not

be done by mere negatives. It was necessary for us to have a positive

Church theory erected on a definite basis. This took me to the great

Anglican divines; and then of course I found at once that it was

impossible to form any such theory, without cutting across the

teaching of the Church of Rome. Thus came in the Roman controversy.

When I first turned myself to it, I had neither doubt on the subject,

nor suspicion that doubt would ever come upon me. It was in this

state of mind that I began to read up Bellarmine on the one hand, and

numberless Anglican writers on the other. But I soon found, as others

had found before me, that it was a tangled and manifold controversy,

difficult to master, more difficult to put out of hand with neatness

and precision. It was easy to make points, not easy to sum up and

settle. It was not easy to find a clear issue for the dispute,

and still less by a logical process to decide it in favour of

Anglicanism. This difficulty, however, had no tendency whatever to

harass or perplex me: it was a matter, not of convictions, but of

proofs.

First I saw, as all see who study the subject, that a broad

distinction had to be drawn between the actual state of belief and of

usage in the countries which were in communion with the Roman Church,

and her formal dogmas; the latter did not cover the former. Sensible

pain, for instance, is not implied in the Tridentine decree upon

purgatory; but it was the tradition of the Latin Church, and I had

seen the pictures of souls in flames in the streets of Naples. Bishop

Lloyd had brought this distinction out strongly in an Article in the

_British Critic_ in 1825; indeed, it was one of the most common

objections made to the Church of Rome, that she dared not commit

herself by formal decree, to what nevertheless she sanctioned and

allowed. Accordingly, in my Prophetical Office, I view as simply

separate ideas, Rome quiescent, and Rome in action. I contrasted her

creed on the one hand, with her ordinary teaching, her controversial

tone, her political and social bearing, and her popular beliefs and

practices on the other.

While I made this distinction between the decrees and the traditions

of Rome, I drew a parallel distinction between Anglicanism quiescent,

and Anglicanism in action. In its formal creed Anglicanism was not

at a great distance from Rome: far otherwise, when viewed in its

insular spirit, the traditions of its establishment, its historical

characteristics, its controversial rancour, and its private judgment.

I disavowed and condemned those excesses, and called them

"Protestantism" or "Ultra-Protestantism:" I wished to find a parallel

disclaimer, on the part of Roman controversialists, of that popular

system of beliefs and usages in their own Church, which I called

"Popery." When that hope was a dream, I saw that the controversy lay

between the book-theology of Anglicanism on the one side, and the

living system of what I called Roman corruption on the other. I could

not get further than this; with this result I was forced to content

myself.

These then were the _parties_ in the controversy:--the Anglican _Via

Media_ and the popular religion of Rome. And next, as to the _issue_,

to which the controversy between them was to be brought, it was

this:--the Anglican disputant took his stand upon Antiquity or

apostolicity, the Roman upon Catholicity. The Anglican said to the

Roman: "There is but One Faith, the Ancient, and you have not kept to

it;" the Roman retorted: "There is but One Church, the Catholic, and

you are out of it." The Anglican urged: "Your special beliefs,

practices, modes of action, are nowhere in Antiquity;" the Roman

objected: "You do not communicate with any one Church besides your

own and its offshoots, and you have discarded principles, doctrines,

sacraments, and usages, which are and ever have been received in the

East and the West." The true Church, as defined in the Creeds, was

both Catholic and Apostolic; now, as I viewed the controversy in

which I was engaged, England and Rome had divided these notes or

prerogatives between them: the cause lay thus, Apostolicity _versus_

Catholicity.

However, in thus stating the matter, of course I do not wish it

supposed, that I considered the note of Catholicity really to belong

to Rome, to the disparagement of the Anglican Church; but that the

special point or plea of Rome in the controversy was Catholicity, as

the Anglican plea was Antiquity. Of course I contended that the Roman

idea of Catholicity was not ancient and apostolic. It was in my

judgment at the utmost only natural, becoming, expedient, that the

whole of Christendom should be united in one visible body; while such

a unity might be, on the other hand, a mere heartless and political

combination. For myself, I held with the Anglican divines, that, in

the Primitive Church, there was a very real mutual independence

between its separate parts, though, from a dictate of charity, there

was in fact a close union between them. I considered that each see

and diocese might be compared to a crystal, and that each was similar

to the rest, and that the sum total of them all was only a collection

of crystals. The unity of the Church lay, not in its being a polity,

but in its being a family, a race, coming down by apostolical descent

from its first founders and bishops. And I considered this truth

brought out, beyond the possibility of dispute, in the Epistles of

St. Ignatius, in which the bishop is represented as the one supreme

authority in the Church, that is, in his own place, with no one above

him, except as, for the sake of ecclesiastical order and expedience,

arrangements had been made by which one was put over or under

another. So much for our own claim to Catholicity, which was so

perversely appropriated by our opponents to themselves:--on the other

hand, as to our special strong point, Antiquity, while of course, by

means of it, we were able to condemn most emphatically the novel

claim of Rome to domineer over other Churches, which were in truth

her equals, further than that, we thereby especially convicted her of

the intolerable offence of having added to the Faith. This was the

critical head of accusation urged against her by the Anglican

disputant, and, as he referred to St. Ignatius in proof that he

himself was a true Catholic, in spite of being separated from Rome,

so he triumphantly referred to the Treatise of Vincentius of Lerins

upon the "Quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus," in proof that

the controversialists of Rome were separated in their creed from the

apostolical and primitive faith.

Of course those controversialists had their own answer to him, with

which I am not concerned in this place; here I am only concerned with

the issue itself, between the one party and the other--Antiquity

_versus_ Catholicity.

Now I will proceed to illustrate what I have been saying of the

_status_ of the controversy, as it presented itself to my mind, by

extracts from my writings of the dates of 1836, 1840, and 1841. And I

introduce them with a remark, which especially applies to the paper,

from which I shall quote first, of the date of 1836. That paper

appeared in the March and April numbers of the _British Magazine_ of

that year, and was entitled "Home Thoughts Abroad." Now it will be

found, that, in the discussion which it contains, as in various other

writings of mine, when I was in the Anglican Church, the argument in

behalf of Rome is stated with considerable perspicuity and force. And

at the time my friends and supporters cried out "How imprudent!" and

both at the time, and especially at a later date, my enemies have

cried out, "How insidious!" Friends and foes virtually agreed in

their criticism; I had set out the cause which I was combating to the

best advantage: this was an offence; it might be from imprudence, it

might be with a traitorous design. It was from neither the one nor

the other; but for the following reasons. First, I had a great

impatience, whatever was the subject, of not bringing out the whole

of it, as clearly as I could; next I wished to be as fair to my

adversaries as possible; and thirdly I thought that there was a great

deal of shallowness among our own friends, and that they undervalued

the strength of the argument in behalf of Rome, and that they ought

to be roused to a more exact apprehension of the position of the

controversy. At a later date (1841), when I really felt the force of

the Roman side of the question myself, as a difficulty which had to

be met, I had a fourth reason for such frankness in argument, and

that was, because a number of persons were unsettled far more than I

was, as to the Catholicity of the Anglican Church. It was quite

plain, that, unless I was perfectly candid in stating what could be

said against it, there was no chance that any representations, which

I felt to be in its favour, or at least to be adverse to Rome, would

have had their real weight duly acknowledged. At all times I had a

deep conviction, to put the matter on the lowest ground, that

"honesty was the best policy." Accordingly, in 1841, I expressed

myself thus on the Anglican difficulty: "This is an objection which

we must honestly say is deeply felt by many people, and not

inconsiderable ones; and the more it is openly avowed to be a

difficulty, the better; for there is then the chance of its being

acknowledged, and in the course of time obviated, as far as may be,

by those who have the power. Flagrant evils cure themselves by being

flagrant; and we are sanguine that the time is come when so great an

evil as this is, cannot stand its ground against the good feeling and

common sense of religious persons. It is the very strength of

Romanism against us; and, unless the proper persons take it into

their serious consideration, they may look for certain to undergo the

loss, as time goes on, of some whom they would least like to be lost

to our Church." The measure which I had especially in view in this

passage, was the project of a Jerusalem Bishopric, which the then

Archbishop of Canterbury was at that time concocting with M. Bunsen,

and of which I shall speak more in the sequel. And now to return to

the Home Thoughts Abroad of the spring of 1836:--

The discussion contained in this composition runs in the form of a

dialogue. One of the disputants says: "You say to me that the Church

of Rome is corrupt. What then? to cut off a limb is a strange way of

saving it from the influence of some constitutional ailment.

Indigestion may cause cramp in the extremities; yet we spare our poor

feet notwithstanding. Surely there is such a religious _fact_ as the

existence of a great Catholic body, union with which is a Christian

privilege and duty. Now, we English are separate from it."

The other answers: "The present is an unsatisfactory, miserable state

of things, yet I can grant no more. The Church is founded on a

doctrine,--on the gospel of Truth; it is a means to an end. Perish

the Church (though, blessed be the promise! this cannot be), yet let

it perish _rather_ than the Truth should fail. Purity of faith is

more precious to the Christian than unity itself. If Rome has erred

grievously in doctrine, then it is a duty to separate even from

Rome."

His friend, who takes the Roman side of the argument, refers to the

image of the Vine and its branches, which is found, I think, in St.

Cyprian, as if a branch cut from the Catholic Vine must necessarily

die. Also he quotes a passage from St. Augustine in controversy with

the Donatists to the same effect; viz. that, as being separated from

the body of the Church, they were _ipso facto_ cut off from the

heritage of Christ. And he quotes St. Cyril's argument drawn from the

very title Catholic, which no body or communion of men has ever dared

or been able to appropriate, besides one. He adds, "Now, I am only

contending for the fact, that the communion of Rome constitutes the

main body of the Church Catholic, and that we are split off from it,

and in the condition of the Donatists."

The other replies, by denying the fact that the present Roman

communion is like St. Augustine's Catholic Church, inasmuch as there

are to be taken into account the large Anglican and Greek communions.

Presently he takes the offensive, naming distinctly the points, in

which Rome has departed from Primitive Christianity, viz. "the

practical idolatry, the virtual worship of the Virgin and Saints,

which are the offence of the Latin Church, and the degradation of

moral truth and duty, which follows from these." And again: "We

cannot join a Church, did we wish it ever so much, which does not

acknowledge our orders, refuses us the Cup, demands our acquiescence

in image-worship, and excommunicates us, if we do not receive it and

all the decisions of the Tridentine Council."

His opponent answers these objections by referring to the doctrine of

"developments of gospel truth." Besides, "The Anglican system

itself is not found complete in those early centuries; so that the

[Anglican] principle [of Antiquity] is self-destructive." "When a man

takes up this _Via Media_, he is a mere _doctrinaire_;" he is like

those, "who, in some matter of business, start up to suggest their

own little crotchet, and are ever measuring mountains with a pocket

ruler, or improving the planetary courses." "The _Via Media_ has

slept in libraries; it is a substitute of infancy for manhood."

It is plain, then, that at the end of 1835 or beginning of 1836, I

had the whole state of the question before me, on which, to my mind,

the decision between the Churches depended. It is observable that the

question of the position of the Pope, whether as the centre of unity,

or as the source of jurisdiction, did not come into my thoughts at

all; nor did it, I think I may say, to the end. I doubt whether I

ever distinctly held any of his powers to be _de jure divino_, while

I was in the Anglican Church;--not that I saw any difficulty in the

doctrine; not that, together with the story of St. Leo, of which I

shall speak by and by, the idea of his infallibility did not cross my

mind, for it did--but after all, in my view the controversy did not

turn upon it; it turned upon the Faith and the Church. This was my

issue of the controversy from the beginning to the end. There was a

contrariety of claims between the Roman and Anglican religions, and

the history of my conversion is simply the process of working it out

to a solution. In 1838 I illustrated it by the contrast presented to

us between the Madonna and Child, and a Calvary. I said that the

peculiarity of the Anglican theology was this--that it "supposed the

Truth to be entirely objective and detached, not" (as the Roman)

"lying hid in the bosom of the Church as if one with her, clinging

to and (as it were) lost her embrace, but as being sole and

unapproachable, as on the Cross or at the Resurrection, with the

Church close by, but in the background."

As I viewed the controversy in 1836 and 1838, so I viewed it in 1840

and 1841. In the _British Critic_ of January 1840, after gradually

investigating how the matter lies between the Churches by means of a

dialogue, I end thus: "It would seem, that, in the above discussion,

each disputant has a strong point: our strong point is the argument

from Primitiveness, that of Romanists from Universality. It is a

fact, however it is to be accounted for, that Rome has added to the

Creed; and it is a fact, however we justify ourselves, that we are

estranged from the great body of Christians over the world. And each

of these two facts is at first sight a grave difficulty in the

respective systems to which they belong." Again, "While Rome, though

not deferring to the Fathers, recognises them, and England, not

deferring to the large body of the Church, recognises it, both Rome

and England have a point to clear up."

And still more strongly in July, 1841:

"If the Note of schism, on the one hand, lies against England, an

antagonist disgrace lies upon Rome, the Note of idolatry. Let us not

be mistaken here; we are neither accusing Rome of idolatry, nor

ourselves of schism; we think neither charge tenable; but still the

Roman Church practises what is so like idolatry, and the English

Church makes much of what is so very like schism, that without

deciding what is the duty of a Roman Catholic towards the Church of

England in her present state, we do seriously think that members of

the English Church have a providential direction given them, how to

comport themselves towards the Church of Rome, while she is what she

is."

One remark more about Antiquity and the _Via Media_. As time went on,

without doubting the strength of the Anglican argument from

Antiquity, I felt also that it was not merely our special plea, but

our only one. Also I felt that the _Via Media_, which was to

represent it, was to be a sort of remodelled and adapted Antiquity.

This I observe both in Home Thoughts Abroad, and in the Article of

the _British Critic_ which I have analysed above. But this

circumstance, that after all we must use private judgment upon

Antiquity, created a sort of distrust of my theory altogether, which

in the conclusion of my volume on the Prophetical Office I express

thus: "Now that our discussions draw to a close, the thought, with

which we entered on the subject, is apt to recur, when the excitement

of the inquiry has subsided, and weariness has succeeded, that what

has been said is but a dream, the wanton exercise, rather than the

practical conclusions of the intellect." And I conclude the paragraph

by anticipating a line of thought into which I was, in the event,

almost obliged to take refuge: "After all," I say, "the Church is

ever invisible in its day, and faith only apprehends it." What was

this, but to give up the Notes of a visible Church altogether,

whether the Catholic Note or the Apostolic?

The Long Vacation of 1839 began early. There had been a great many

visitors to Oxford from Easter to Commemoration; and Dr. Pusey and

myself had attracted attention, more, I think, than any former year.

I had put away from me the controversy with Rome for more than two

years. In my Parochial Sermons the subject had never been introduced:

there had been nothing for two years, either in my Tracts or in the

_British Critic_, of a polemical character. I was returning, for the

vacation, to the course of reading which I had many years before

chosen as especially my own. I have no reason to suppose that the

thoughts of Rome came across my mind at all. About the middle of June

I began to study and master the history of the Monophysites. I was

absorbed in the doctrinal question. This was from about June 13th to

August 30th. It was during this course of reading that for the first

time a doubt came upon me of the tenableness of Anglicanism. I

recollect on the 30th of July mentioning to a friend, whom I had

accidentally met, how remarkable the history was; but by the end of

August I was seriously alarmed.

I have described in a former work, how the history affected me. My

stronghold was Antiquity; now here, in the middle of the fifth

century, I found, as it seemed to me, Christendom of the sixteenth

and the nineteenth centuries reflected. I saw my face in that mirror,

and I was a Monophysite. The Church of the _Via Media_ was in the

position of the Oriental communion, Rome was, where she now is; and

the Protestants were the Eutychians. Of all passages of history,

since history has been, who would have thought of going to the

sayings and doings of old Eutyches, that _delirus senex_, as (I

think) Petavius calls him, and to the enormities of the unprincipled

Dioscorus, in order to be converted to Rome!

Now let it be simply understood that I am not writing

controversially, but with the one object of relating things as they

happened to me in the course of my conversion. With this view I will

quote a passage from the account, which I gave in 1850, of my

reasonings and feelings in 1839:

"It was difficult to make out how the Eutychians or Monophysites were

heretics, unless Protestants and Anglicans were heretics also;

difficult to find arguments against the Tridentine Fathers, which did

not tell against the Fathers of Chalcedon; difficult to condemn the

Popes of the sixteenth century, without condemning the Popes of the

fifth. The drama of religion, and the combat of truth and error, were

ever one and the same. The principles and proceedings of the Church

now, were those of the Church then; the principles and proceedings of

heretics then, were those of Protestants now. I found it so,--almost

fearfully; there was an awful similitude, more awful, because so

silent and unimpassioned, between the dead records of the past and

the feverish chronicle of the present. The shadow of the fifth

century was on the sixteenth. It was like a spirit rising from the

troubled waters of the old world, with the shape and lineaments of

the new. The Church then, as now, might be called peremptory and

stern, resolute, overbearing, and relentless; and heretics were

shifting, changeable, reserved, and deceitful, ever courting civil

power, and never agreeing together, except by its aid; and the civil

power was ever aiming at comprehensions, trying to put the invisible

out of view, and substituting expediency for faith. What was the use

of continuing the controversy, or defending my position, if, after

all, I was forging arguments for Arius or Eutyches, and turning

devil's advocate against the much-enduring Athanasius and the

majestic Leo? Be my soul with the Saints! and shall I lift up my hand

against them? Sooner may my right hand forget her cunning, and wither

outright, as his who once stretched it out against a prophet of God!

anathema to a whole tribe of Cranmers, Ridleys, Latimers, and Jewels!

perish the names of Bramhall, Ussher, Taylor, Stillingfleet, and

Barrow from the face of the earth, ere I should do aught but fall at

their feet in love and in worship, whose image was continually before

my eyes, and whose musical words were ever in my ears and on my

tongue!"

Hardly had I brought my course of reading to a close, when the

_Dublin Review_ of that same August was put into my hands, by friends

who were more favourable to the cause of Rome than I was myself.

There was an Article in it on the "Anglican Claim" by Bishop Wiseman.

This was about the middle of September. It was on the Donatists, with

an application to Anglicanism. I read it, and did not see much in it.

The Donatist controversy was known to me for some years, as I have

instanced above. The case was not parallel to that of the Anglican

Church. St. Augustine in Africa wrote against the Donatists in

Africa. They were a furious party who made a schism within the

African Church, and not beyond its limits. It was a case of altar

against altar, of two occupants of the same see, as that between the

non-jurors in England and the Established Church; not the case of one

Church against another, as Rome against the Oriental Monophysites.

But my friend, an anxiously religious man, now, as then, very dear to

me, a Protestant still, pointed out the palmary words of St.

Augustine, which were contained in one of the extracts made in the

_Review_, and which had escaped my observation. "Securus judicat

orbis terrarum." He repeated these words again and again, and, when

he was gone, they kept ringing in my ears. "Securus judicat orbis

terrarum;" they were words which went beyond the occasion of the

Donatists: they applied to that of the Monophysites. They gave a

cogency to the Article, which had escaped me at first. They decided

ecclesiastical questions on a simpler rule than that of Antiquity;

nay, St. Augustine was one of the prime oracles of Antiquity; here

then Antiquity was deciding against itself. What a light was hereby

thrown upon every controversy in the Church! not that, for the

moment, the multitude may not falter in their judgment,--not that, in

the Arian hurricane, Sees more than can be numbered did not bend

before its fury, and fall off from St. Athanasius,--not that the

crowd of Oriental Bishops did not need to be sustained during the

contest by the voice and the eye of St. Leo; but that the deliberate

judgment, in which the whole Church at length rests and acquiesces,

is an infallible prescription and a final sentence against such

portions of it as protest and secede. Who can account for the

impressions which are made on him? For a mere sentence, the words of

St. Augustine, struck me with a power which I never had felt from any

words before. To take a familiar instance, they were like the "Turn

again Whittington" of the chime; or, to take a more serious one, they

were like the "Tolle, lege,--Tolle, lege," of the child, which

converted St. Augustine himself. "Securus judicat orbis terrarum!" By

those great words of the ancient Father, the theory of the _Via

Media_ was absolutely pulverised.

I became excited at the view thus opened upon me. I was just starting

on a round of visits; and I mentioned my state of mind to two most

intimate friends: I think to no others. After a while, I got calm,

and at length the vivid impression upon my imagination faded away.

What I thought about it on reflection, I will attempt to describe

presently. I had to determine its logical value, and its bearing upon

my duty. Meanwhile, so far as this was certain,--I had seen the

shadow of a hand upon the wall. It was clear that I had a good deal

to learn on the question of the Churches, and that perhaps some new

light was coming upon me. He who has seen a ghost, cannot be as if he

had never seen it. The heavens had opened and closed again. The

thought for the moment had been, "The Church of Rome will be found

right after all;" and then it had vanished. My old convictions

remained as before.

At this time, I wrote my Sermon on Divine Calls, which I published in

my volume of Plain Sermons. It ends thus:--

"O that we could take that simple view of things, as to feel that the

one thing which lies before us is to please God! What gain is it

to please the world, to please the great, nay even to please those

whom we love, compared with this? What gain is it to be applauded,

admired, courted, followed,--compared with this one aim, of 'not

being disobedient to a heavenly vision'? What can this world offer

comparable with that insight into spiritual things, that keen faith,

that heavenly peace, that high sanctity, that everlasting

righteousness, that hope of glory, which they have, who in sincerity

love and follow our Lord Jesus Christ? Let us beg and pray Him day by

day to reveal Himself to our souls more fully, to quicken our senses,

to give us sight and hearing, taste and touch of the world to come;

so to work within us, that we may sincerely say, 'Thou shalt guide me

with Thy counsel, and after that receive me with glory. Whom have I

in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire in

comparison of Thee. My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the

strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.'"

Now to trace the succession of thoughts, and the conclusions, and the

consequent innovations on my previous belief, and the general

conduct, to which I was led, upon this sudden visitation. And first,

I will say, whatever comes of saying it, for I leave inferences to

others, that for years I must have had something of an habitual

notion, though it was latent, and had never led me to distrust my own

convictions, that my mind had not found its ultimate rest, and that

in some sense or other I was on journey. During the same passage

across the Mediterranean in which I wrote "Lead kindly light," I also

wrote the verses, which are found in the Lyra under the head of

"Providences," beginning, "When I look back." This was in 1833; and,

since I have begun this narrative, I have found a memorandum under

the date of September 7, 1829, in which I speak of myself, as "now in

my rooms in Oriel College, slowly advancing etc. and led on by God's

hand blindly, not knowing whither He is taking me." But, whatever

this presentiment be worth, it was no protection against the dismay

and disgust, which I felt, in consequence of the dreadful misgiving,

of which I have been relating the history. The one question was, what

was I to do? I had to make up my mind for myself, and others could

not help me. I determined to be guided, not by my imagination, but by

my reason. And this I said over and over again in the years which

followed, both in conversation and in private letters. Had it not

been for this severe resolve, I should have been a Catholic sooner

than I was. Moreover, I felt on consideration a positive doubt, on

the other hand, whether the suggestion did not come from below. Then

I said to myself, Time alone can solve that question. It was my

business to go on as usual, to obey those convictions to which I had

so long surrendered myself, which still had possession of me, and

on which my new thoughts had no direct bearing. That new conception

of things should only so far influence me, as it had a logical

claim to do so. If it came from above, it would come again;--so I

trusted,--and with more definite outlines. I thought of Samuel,

before "he knew the word of the Lord;" and therefore I went, and lay

down to sleep again. This was my broad view of the matter, and my

_prima facie_ conclusion.

However, my new historical fact had to a certain point a logical

force. Down had come the _Via Media_ as a definite theory or scheme,

under the blows of St. Leo. My "Prophetical Office" had come to

pieces; not indeed as an argument against "Roman errors," nor as

against Protestantism, but as in behalf of England. I had no more a

distinctive plea for Anglicanism, unless I would be a Monophysite. I

had, most painfully, to fall back upon my three original points of

belief, which I have spoken so much of in a former passage,--the

principle of dogma, the sacramental system, and anti-Romanism. Of

these three, the first two were better secured in Rome than in the

Anglican Church. The Apostolical Succession, the two prominent

sacraments, and the primitive Creeds, belonged, indeed, to the

latter, but there had been and was far less strictness on matters of

dogma and ritual in the Anglican system than in the Roman: in

consequence, my main argument for the Anglican claims lay in the

positive and special charges, which I could bring against Rome. I had

no positive Anglican theory. I was very nearly a pure Protestant.

Lutherans had a sort of theology, so had Calvinists; I had none.

However, this pure Protestantism, to which I was gradually left, was

really a practical principle. It was a strong, though it was only a

negative ground, and it still had great hold on me. As a boy of

fifteen, I had so fully imbibed it, that I had actually erased in my

_Gradus ad Parnassum_, such titles, under the word "Papa," as

"Christi Vicarius," "sacer interpres," and "sceptra gerens," and

substituted epithets so vile that I cannot bring myself to write them

down here. The effect of this early persuasion remained as, what I

have already called it, a "stain upon my imagination." As regards my

reason, I began in 1833 to form theories on the subject, which tended

to obliterate it. In the first part of Home Thoughts Abroad, written

in that year, after speaking of Rome as "undeniably the most exalted

Church in the whole world," and manifesting, "in all the truth and

beauty of the Spirit, that side of high mental excellence, which

Pagan Rome attempted but could not realise,--high-mindedness,

majesty, and the calm consciousness of power,"--I proceed to say,

"Alas! ...the old spirit has revived, and the monster of Daniel's

vision, untamed by its former judgments, has seized upon Christianity

as the new instrument of its impieties, and awaits a second and final

woe from God's hand. Surely the doctrine of the _Genius Loci_ is not

without foundation, and explains to us how the blessing or the curse

attaches to cities and countries, not to generations. Michael is

represented [in the book of Daniel] as opposed to the Prince of the

kingdom of Persia. Old Rome is still alive. The Sorceress upon the

Seven Hills, in the book of Revelation, is not the Church of Rome,

but Rome itself, the bad spirit, which, in its former shape, was the

animating spirit of the Fourth Monarchy." Then I refer to St.

Malachi's Prophecy which "makes a like distinction between the City

and the Church of Rome. 'In the last persecution,' it says, 'of the

Holy Roman Church, Peter of Rome shall be on the throne, who shall

feed his flock in many tribulations. When these are past, the City

upon the Seven Hills shall be destroyed, and the awful Judge shall

judge the people.'" Then I append my moral. "I deny that the

distinction is unmeaning; Is it nothing to be able to look on our

Mother, to whom we owe the blessing of Christianity, with affection

instead of hatred? with pity indeed, aye, and fear, but not with

horror? Is it nothing to rescue her from the hard names, which

interpreters of prophecy have put upon her, as an idolatress and an

enemy of God, when she is deceived rather than a deceiver? Nothing to

be able to account her priests as ordained of God, and anointed for

their spiritual functions by the Holy Spirit, instead of considering

her communion the bond of Satan?" This was my first advance in

rescuing, on an intelligible, intellectual basis, the Roman Church

from the designation of Antichrist; it was not the Church, but the

old dethroned Pagan monster, still living in the ruined city, that

was Antichrist.

In a Tract in 1838, I profess to give the opinions of the Fathers on

the subject, and the conclusions to which I come, are still less

violent against the Roman Church, though on the same basis as before.

I say that the local Christian Church of Rome has been the means of

shielding the pagan city from the fulness of those judgments, which

are due to it; and that, in consequence of this, though Babylon has

been utterly swept from the earth, Rome remains to this day. The

reason seemed to be simply this, that, when the barbarians came down,

God had a people in that city. Babylon was a mere prison of the

Church; Rome had received her as a guest. "That vengeance has never

fallen: it is still suspended; nor can reason be given why Rome

has not fallen under the rule of God's general dealings with His

rebellious creatures, except that a Christian Church is still in that

city, sanctifying it, interceding for it, saving it." I add in a

note, "No opinion, one way or the other, is here expressed as to

the question, how far, as the local Church has saved Rome, so Rome

has corrupted the local Church; or whether the local Church in

consequence, or again whether other Churches elsewhere, may or may

not be types of Antichrist." I quote all this in order to show how

Bishop Newton was still upon my mind even in 1838; and how I was

feeling after some other interpretation of prophecy instead of his,

and not without a good deal of hesitation.

However, I have found notes written in March, 1839, which anticipate

my article in the _British Critic_ of October, 1840, in which I

contended that the Churches of Rome and England were both one, and

also the one true Church, for the very reason that they had both been

stigmatised by the name of Antichrist, proving my point from the

text, "If they have called the Master of the House Beelzebub, how

much more them of His household," and quoting largely from Puritans

and Independents to show that, in their mouths, the Anglican Church

is Antichrist and Anti-christian as well as the Roman. I urged in

that article that the calumny of being Antichrist is almost "one of

the notes of the true Church;" and that "there is no medium between a

Vice-Christ and Anti-Christ;" for "it is not the _acts_ that make the

difference between them, but the _authority_ for those acts." This of

course was a new mode of viewing the question; but we cannot unmake

ourselves or change our habits in a moment. It is quite clear, that,

if I dared not commit myself in 1838, to the belief that the Church

of Rome was not a type of Antichrist, I could not have thrown off the

unreasoning prejudice and suspicion, which I cherished about her,

for some time after, at least by fits and starts, in spite of the

conviction of my reason. I cannot prove this, but I believe it to

have been the case from what I recollect of myself. Nor was there

anything in the history of St. Leo and the Monophysites to undo the

firm belief I had in the existence of what I called the practical

abuses and excesses of Rome.

To the inconsistencies then, to the ambition and intrigue, to the

sophistries of Rome (as I considered them to be) I had recourse in my

opposition to her, both public and personal. I did so by way of a

relief. I had a great and growing dislike, after the summer of 1839,

to speak against the Roman Church herself or her formal doctrines. I

was very averse to speak against doctrines, which might possibly turn

out to be true, though at the time I had no reason for thinking they

were, or against the Church, which had preserved them. I began to

have misgivings, that, strong as my own feelings had been against

her, yet in some things which I had said, I had taken the statements

of Anglican divines for granted without weighing them for myself. I

said to a friend in 1840, in a letter, which I shall use presently,

"I am troubled by doubts whether as it is, I have not, in what I have

published, spoken too strongly against Rome, though I think I did it

in a kind of faith, being determined to put myself into the English

system, and say all that our divines said, whether I had fully

weighed it or not." I was sore about the great Anglican divines, as

if they had taken me in, and made me say strong things, which facts

did not justify. Yet I _did_ still hold in substance all that I had

said against the Church of Rome in my Prophetical Office. I felt the

force of the usual Protestant objections against her; I believed that

we had the apostolical succession in the Anglican Church, and the

grace of the sacraments; I was not sure that the difficulty of its

isolation might not be overcome, though I was far from sure that it

could. I did not see any clear proof that it had committed itself to

any heresy, or had taken part against the truth; and I was not sure

that it would not revive into full apostolic purity and strength, and

grow into union with Rome herself (Rome explaining her doctrines and

guarding against their abuse), that is, if we were but patient and

hopeful. I wished for union between the Anglican Church and Rome, if,

and when, it was possible; and I did what I could to gain weekly

prayers for that object. The ground which I felt good against her was

the moral ground: I felt I could not be wrong in striking at her

political and social line of action. The alliance of a dogmatic

religion with liberals, high or low, seemed to me a providential

direction against moving towards it, and a better "Preservative

against Popery," than the three volumes of folio, in which, I think,

that prophylactic is to be found. However, on occasions which

demanded it, I felt it a duty to give out plainly all that I thought,

though I did not like to do so. One such instance occurred, when I

had to publish a letter about Tract 90. In that letter I said,

"Instead of setting before the soul the Holy Trinity, and heaven and

hell, the Church of Rome does seem to me, as a popular system, to

preach the Blessed Virgin and the Saints, and purgatory." On this

occasion I recollect expressing to a friend the distress it gave me

thus to speak; but, I said, "How can I help saying it, if I think it?

and I _do_ think it; my Bishop calls on me to say out what I think;

and that is the long and the short of it." But I recollected Hurrell

Froude's words to me, almost his dying words, "I must enter another

protest against your cursing and swearing. What good can it do? and I

call it uncharitable to an excess. How mistaken we may ourselves be,

on many points that are only gradually opening on us!"

Instead then of speaking of errors in doctrine, I was driven, by my

state of mind, to insist upon the political conduct, the

controversial bearing, and the social methods and manifestations of

Rome. And here I found a matter close at hand, which affected me most

sensibly too, because it was before my eyes. I can hardly describe

too strongly my feeling upon it. I had an unspeakable aversion to the

policy and acts of Mr. O'Connell, because, as I thought, he

associated himself with men of all religions and no religion against

the Anglican Church, and advanced Catholicism by violence and

intrigue. When then I found him taken up by the English Catholics,

and, as I supposed, at Rome, I considered I had a fulfilment before

my eyes how the Court of Rome played fast and loose, and fulfilled

the bad points which I had seen put down in books against it. Here we

saw what Rome was in action, whatever she might be when quiescent.

Her conduct was simply secular and political.

This feeling led me into the excess of being very rude to that

zealous and most charitable man, Mr. Spencer, when he came to Oxford

in January, 1840, to get Anglicans to set about praying for unity. I

myself then, or soon after, drew up such prayers; it was one of the

first thoughts which came upon me after my shock, but I was too much

annoyed with the political action of the members of the Roman Church

in England to wish to have anything to do with them personally. So

glad in my heart was I to see him when he came to my rooms, whither

Mr. Palmer of Magdalen brought him, that I could have laughed for

joy; I think I did; but I was very rude to him, I would not meet him

at dinner, and that (though I did not say so) because I considered

him "in loco apostatae" from the Anglican Church, and I hereby beg his

pardon for it. I wrote afterwards with a view to apologise, but I

dare say he must have thought that I made the matter worse, for these

were my words to him:--

"The news that you are praying for us is most touching, and raises a

variety of indescribable emotions. May their prayers return

abundantly into their own bosoms! Why then do I not meet you in a

manner conformable with these first feelings? For this single reason,

if I may say it, that your acts are contrary to your words. You

invite us to a union of hearts, at the same time that you are doing

all you can, not to restore, not to reform, not to reunite, but to

destroy our Church. You go further than your principles require. You

are leagued with our enemies. 'The voice is Jacob's voice, but the

hands are the hands of Esau.' This is what especially distresses us;

this is what we cannot understand, how Christians, like yourselves,

with the clear view you have that a warfare is ever waging in the

world between good and evil, should, in the present state of England,

ally yourselves with the side of evil against the side of good.... Of

parties now in the country, you cannot but allow, that next to

yourselves we are nearest to revealed truth. We maintain great and

holy principles; we profess Catholic doctrines.... So near are we as

a body to yourselves in modes of thinking, as even to have been

taunted with the nicknames which belong to you; and, on the other

hand, if there are professed infidels, scoffers, sceptics,

unprincipled men, rebels, they are found among our opponents. And yet

you take part with them against us.... You consent to act hand in

hand [with these and others] for our overthrow. Alas! all this it is

that impresses us irresistibly with the notion that you are a

political, not a religious party; that, in order to gain an end on

which you set your hearts,--an open stage for yourselves in

England--you ally yourselves with those who hold nothing against

those who hold something. This is what distresses my own mind so

greatly, to speak of myself, that, with limitations which need not

now be mentioned, I cannot meet familiarly any leading persons of the

Roman Communion, and least of all when they come on a religious

errand. Break off, I would say, with Mr. O'Connell in Ireland and the

liberal party in England, or come not to us with overtures for mutual

prayer and religious sympathy."

And here came in another feeling, of a personal nature, which had

little to do with the argument against Rome, except that, in my

prejudice, I connected it with my own ideas of the usual conduct of

her advocates and instruments. I was very stern upon any interference

in our Oxford matters on the part of charitable Catholics, and on any

attempt to do me good personally. There was nothing, indeed, at the

time more likely to throw me back. "Why do you meddle? why cannot you

let me alone? You can do me no good; you know nothing on earth about

me; you may actually do me harm; I am in better hands than yours. I

know my own sincerity of purpose; and I am determined upon taking my

time." Since I have been a Catholic, people have sometimes accused me

of backwardness in making converts; and Protestants have argued from

it that I have no great eagerness to do so. It would be against my

nature to act otherwise than I do; but besides, it would be to forget

the lessons which I gained in the experience of my own history in the

past.

This is the account which I have to give of some savage and

ungrateful words in the _British Critic_ of 1840 against the

controversialists of Rome: "By their fruits ye shall know them.... We

see it attempting to gain converts among us by unreal representations

of its doctrines, plausible statements, bold assertions, appeals to

the weaknesses of human nature, to our fancies, our eccentricities,

our fears, our frivolities, our false philosophies. We see its

agents, smiling and nodding and ducking to attract attention, as

gipsies make up to truant boys, holding out tales for the nursery,

and pretty pictures, and gilt gingerbread, and physic concealed in

jam, and sugar-plums for good children. Who can but feel shame when

the religion of Ximenes, Borromeo, and Pascal, is so overlaid? Who

can but feel sorrow, when its devout and earnest defenders so mistake

its genius and its capabilities? We Englishmen like manliness,

openness, consistency, truth. Rome will never gain on us, till she

learns these virtues, and uses them; and then she may gain us, but it

will be by ceasing to be what we now mean by Rome, by having a right,

not to 'have dominion over our faith,' but to gain and possess our

affections in the bonds of the gospel. Till she ceases to be what she

practically is, a union is impossible between her and England; but,

if she does reform (and who can presume to say that so large a part

of Christendom never can?) then it will be our Church's duty at once

to join in communion with the continental Churches, whatever

politicians at home may say to it, and whatever steps the civil power

may take in consequence. And though we may not live to see that day,

at least we are bound to pray for it; we are bound to pray for our

brethren that they and we may be led together into the pure light of

the gospel, and be one as we once were one. It was most touching news

to be told, as we were lately, that Christians on the Continent were

praying together for the spiritual well-being of England. May they

gain light, while they aim at unity, and grow in faith while they

manifest their love! We too have our duties to them; not of reviling,

not of slandering, not of hating, though political interests require

it; but the duty of loving brethren still more abundantly in spirit,

whose faces, for our sins and their sins, we are not allowed to see

in the flesh."

No one ought to indulge in insinuations; it certainly diminishes my

right to complain of slanders uttered against myself, when, as in

this passage, I had already spoken in condemnation of that class of

controversialists to which I myself now belong.

I have thus put together, as well as I could, what has to be said

about my general state of mind from the autumn of 1839 to the summer

of 1841; and, having done so, I go on to narrate how my new

misgivings affected my conduct, and my relations towards the Anglican

Church.

When I got back to Oxford in October, 1839, after the visits which I

had been paying, it so happened, there had been, in my absence,

occurrences of an awkward character, bringing me into collision both

with my Bishop and also with the University authorities; and this

drew my attention at once to the state of what would be considered

the Movement party there, and made me very anxious for the future. In

the spring of the year, as has been seen in the Article analysed

above, I had spoken of the excesses which were to be found among

persons commonly included in it; at that time I thought little of

such an evil, but the new thoughts, which had come on me during the

long vacation, on the one hand made me comprehend it, and on the

other took away my power of effectually meeting it. A firm and

powerful control was necessary to keep men straight; I never had a

strong wrist, but at the very time, when it was most needed, the

reins had broken in my hands. With an anxious presentiment on my mind

of the upshot of the whole inquiry, which it was almost impossible

for me to conceal from men who saw me day by day, who heard my

familiar conversation, who came perhaps for the express purpose of

pumping me, and having a categorical _yes_ or _no_ to their

questions--how could I expect to say anything about my actual,

positive, present belief, which would be sustaining or consoling to

such persons as were haunted already by doubts of their own? Nay, how

could I, with satisfaction to myself, analyse my own mind, and say

what I held and what I did not? or say with what limitations, shades

of difference, or degrees of belief, I held that body of opinions

which I had openly professed and taught? how could I deny or assert

this point or that, without injustice to the new view, in which the

whole evidence for those old opinions presented itself to my mind?

However, I had to do what I could, and what was best, under the

circumstances; I found a general talk on the subject of the article

in the _Dublin Review_; and, if it had affected me, it was not

wonderful, that it affected others also. As to myself, I felt no kind

of certainty that the argument in it was conclusive. Taking it at the

worst, granting that the Anglican Church had not the note of

Catholicity; yet there were many notes of the Church. Some belonged

to one age or place, some to another. Bellarmine had reckoned

Temporal Prosperity among the notes of the Church; but the Roman

Church had not any great popularity, wealth, glory, power, or

prospects, in the nineteenth century. It was not at all certain yet,

even that we had not the note of Catholicity; but, if not we had

others. My first business then, was to examine this question

carefully, and see, if a great deal could not be said after all for

the Anglican Church, in spite of its acknowledged shortcomings. This

I did in an Article "on the Catholicity of the English Church," which

appeared in the _British Critic_ of January, 1840. As to my personal

distress on the point, I think it had gone by February 21st in that

year, for I wrote then to Mr. Bowden about the important Article in

the Dublin, thus: "It made a great impression here [Oxford]; and, I

say what of course I would only say to such as yourself, it made me

for a while very uncomfortable in my own mind. The great speciousness

of his argument is one of the things which have made me despond so

much," that is, as to its effect upon others.

But, secondly, the great stumbling-block lay in the 39 Articles.

It was urged that here was a positive Note _against_

Anglicanism:--Anglicanism claimed to hold that the Church of England

was nothing else than a continuation in this country (as the Church

of Rome might be in France or Spain) of that one Church of which in

old times Athanasius and Augustine were members. But, if so, the

doctrine must be the same; the doctrine of the Old Church must live

and speak in Anglican formularies, in the 39 Articles. Did it? Yes,

it did; that is what I maintained; it did in substance, in a true

sense. Man had done his worst to disfigure, to mutilate, the old

Catholic Truth, but there it was, in spite of them, in the Articles

still. It was there, but this must be shown. It was a matter of life

and death to us to show it. And I believed that it could be shown; I

considered that those grounds of justification, which I gave above,

when I was speaking of Tract 90, were sufficient for the purpose; and

therefore I set about showing it at once. This was in March, 1840,

when I went up to Littlemore. And, as it was a matter of life and

death with us, all risks must be run to show it. When the attempt was

actually made, I had got reconciled to the prospect of it, and had no

apprehensions as to the experiment; but in 1840, while my purpose was

honest, and my grounds of reason satisfactory, I did nevertheless

recognise that I was engaged in an _experimentum crucis_. I have no

doubt that then I acknowledged to myself that it would be a trial of

the Anglican Church, which it had never undergone before--not that

the Catholic sense of the Articles had not been held or at least

suffered by their framers and promulgators, and was not implied in

the teaching of Andrewes or Beveridge, but that it had never been

publicly recognised, while the interpretation of the day was

Protestant and exclusive. I observe also, that, though my Tract was

an experiment, it was, as I said at the time, "no _feeler_," the

event showed it; for, when my principle was not granted, I did not

draw back, but gave up. I would not hold office in a Church which

would not allow my sense of the Articles. My tone was, "This is

necessary for us, and have it we must and will, and, if it tends to

bring men to look less bitterly on the Church of Rome, so much the

better."

This then was the second work to which I set myself; though when I

got to Littlemore, other things came in the way of accomplishing it

at the moment. I had in mind to remove all such obstacles as were in

the way of holding the Apostolic and Catholic character of the

Anglican teaching; to assert the right of all who chose to say in the

face of day, "Our Church teaches the Primitive Ancient faith." I did

not conceal this: in Tract 90, it is put forward as the first

principle of all, "It is a duty which we owe both to the Catholic

Church, and to our own, to take our reformed confessions in the most

Catholic sense they will admit: we have no duties towards their

framers." And still more pointedly in my letter, explanatory of the

Tract, addressed to Dr. Jelf, I say: "The only peculiarity of the

view I advocate, if I must so call it, is this--that whereas it is

usual at this day to make the _particular belief of their writers_

their true interpretation, I would make the _belief of the Catholic

Church such_. That is, as it is often said that infants are

regenerated in Baptism, not on the faith of their parents, but of the

Church, so in like manner I would say that the Articles are received,

not in the sense of their framers, but (as far as the wording will

admit or any ambiguity requires it) in the one Catholic sense."

A third measure which I distinctly contemplated, was the resignation

of St. Mary's, whatever became of the question of the Articles; and

as a first step I meditated a retirement to Littlemore. I had built a

Church there several years before; and I went there to pass the Lent

of 1840, and gave myself up to teaching in the poor schools, and

practising the choir. At the same time, I contemplated a monastic

house there. I bought ten acres of ground and began planting; but

this great design was never carried out. I mention it, because it

shows how little I had really the idea then of ever leaving the

Anglican Church. That I also contemplated even the further step of

giving up St. Mary's itself as early as 1839, appears from a letter

which I wrote in October, 1840, to the friend whom it was most

natural for me to consult on such a point. It ran as follows:--

"For a year past a feeling has been growing on me that I ought to

give up St. Mary's, but I am no fit judge in the matter. I cannot

ascertain accurately my own impressions and convictions, which are

the basis of the difficulty, and though you cannot of course do this

for me, yet you may help me generally, and perhaps supersede the

necessity of my going by them at all.

"First, it is certain that I do not know my Oxford parishioners; I am

not conscious of influencing them, and certainly I have no insight

into their spiritual state. I have no personal, no pastoral

acquaintance with them. To very few have I any opportunity of saying

a religious word. Whatever influence I exert on them is precisely

that which I may be exerting on persons out of my parish. In my

excuse I am accustomed to say to myself that I am not adapted to get

on with them, while others are. On the other hand, I am conscious

that by means of my position at St. Mary's I do exert a considerable

influence on the University, whether on Undergraduates or Graduates.

It seems, then, on the whole that I am using St. Mary's, to the

neglect of its direct duties, for objects not belonging to it; I am

converting a parochial charge into a sort of University office.

"I think I may say truly that I have begun scarcely any plan but for

the sake of my parish, but every one has turned, independently of me,

into the direction of the University. I began Saints'-days Services,

daily Services, and Lectures in Adam de Brome's Chapel, for my

parishioners; but they have not come to them. In consequence I

dropped the last mentioned, having, while it lasted, been naturally

led to direct it to the instruction of those who did come, instead of

those who did not. The Weekly Communion, I believe, I did begin for

the sake of the University.

"Added to this the authorities of the University, the appointed

guardians of those who form great part of the attendants on my

Sermons, have shown a dislike of my preaching. One dissuades men from

coming;--the late Vice-Chancellor threatens to take his own children

away from the Church; and the present, having an opportunity last

spring of preaching in my parish pulpit, gets up and preaches against

doctrine with which I am in good measure identified. No plainer proof

can be given of the feeling in these quarters, than the absurd myth,

now a second time put forward, that 'Vice-Chancellors cannot be got

to take the office on account of Puseyism.'

"But further than this, I cannot disguise from myself that my

preaching is not calculated to defend that system of religion which

has been received for 300 years, and of which the Heads of Houses are

the legitimate maintainers in this place. They exclude me, as far as

may be, from the University Pulpit; and, though I never have preached

strong doctrine in it, they do so rightly, so far as this, that they

understand that my sermons are calculated to undermine things

established. I cannot disguise from myself that they are. No one will

deny that most of my sermons are on moral subjects, not doctrinal;

still I am leading my hearers to the Primitive Church, if you will,

but not to the Church of England. Now, ought one to be disgusting the

minds of young men with the received religion, in the exercise of a

sacred office, yet without a commission, against the wish of their

guides and governors?

"But this is not all. I fear I must allow that, whether I will or no,

I am disposing them towards Rome. First, because Rome is the only

representative of the Primitive Church besides ourselves; in

proportion then as they are loosened from the one, they will go to

the other. Next, because many doctrines which I have held, have far

greater, or their only scope, in the Roman system. And, moreover, if,

as is not unlikely, we have in process of time heretical Bishops or

teachers among us, an evil which _ipso facto_ infects the whole

community to which they belong, and if, again (what there are at this

moment symptoms of), there be a movement in the English Roman

Catholics to break the alliance of O'Connell and of Exeter Hall,

strong temptations will be placed in the way of individuals, already

imbued with a tone of thought congenial to Rome, to join her

Communion.

"People tell me, on the other hand, that I am, whether by sermons or

otherwise, exerting at St. Mary's a beneficial influence on our

prospective clergy; but what if I take to myself the credit of seeing

further than they, and of having in the course of the last year

discovered that what they approve so much is very likely to end in

Romanism?

"The _arguments_ which I have published against Romanism seem to

myself as cogent as ever, but men go by their sympathies, not by

argument; and if I feel the force of this influence myself, who bow

to the arguments, why may not others still more who never have in the

same degree admitted the arguments?

"Nor can I counteract the danger by preaching or writing against

Rome. I seem to myself almost to have shot my last arrow in the

Article on English Catholicity. It must be added, that the very

circumstance that I have committed myself against Rome has the effect

of setting to sleep people suspicious about me, which is painful now

that I begin to have suspicions about myself. I mentioned my general

difficulty to A. B. a year since, than whom I know no one of a more

fine and accurate conscience, and it was his spontaneous idea that I

should give up St. Mary's, if my feelings continued. I mentioned it

again to him lately, and he did not reverse his opinion, only

expressed great reluctance to believe it must be so."

My friend's judgment was in favour of my retaining my living; at

least for the present; what weighed with me most was his saying, "You

must consider, whether your retiring either from the Pastoral Care

only, or from writing and printing and editing in the cause, would

not be a sort of scandalous thing, unless it were done very warily.

It would be said, 'You see he can go on no longer with the Church of

England, except in mere Lay Communion;' or people might say you

repented of the cause altogether. Till you see [your way to mitigate,

if not remove this evil] I certainly should advise you to stay." I

answered as follows:--

"Since you think I _may_ go on, it seems to follow that, under the

circumstances, I _ought_ to do so. There are plenty of reasons for

it, directly it is allowed to be lawful. The following considerations

have much reconciled my feelings to your conclusion.

"1. I do not think that we have yet made fair trial how much the

English Church will bear. I know it is a hazardous experiment--like

proving cannon. Yet we must not take it for granted, that the metal

will burst in the operation. It has borne at various times, not to

say at this time, a great infusion of Catholic truth without damage.

As to the result, viz. whether this process will not approximate the

whole English Church, as a body to Rome, that is nothing to us. For

what we know, it may be the providential means of uniting the whole

Church in one, without fresh schismatising or use of private

judgment."

Here I observe, that, what was contemplated was the bursting of the

_Catholicity_ of the Anglican Church, that is, my _subjective idea_

of that Church. Its bursting would not hurt her with the world, but

would be a discovery that she was purely and essentially Protestant,

and would be really the "hoisting of the engineer with his own

petard." And this was the result. I continue:--

"2. Say, that I move sympathies for Rome: in the same sense does

Hooker, Taylor, Bull, etc. Their _arguments_ may be against Rome, but

the sympathies they raise must be towards Rome, _so far_ as Rome

maintains truths which our Church does not teach or enforce. Thus it

is a question of _degree_ between our divines and me. I may, if so

be, go further; I may raise sympathies _more_; but I am but urging

minds in the same direction as they do. I am doing just the very

thing which all our doctors have ever been doing. In short, would not

Hooker, if Vicar of St. Mary's, be in my difficulty?"--Here it may be

said, that Hooker could preach against Rome, and I could not; but I

doubt whether he could have preached effectively against

transubstantiation better than I, though neither he nor I held it.

"3. Rationalism is the great evil of the day. May not I consider my

post at St. Mary's as a place of protest against it? I am more

certain that the Protestant [spirit], which I oppose, leads to

infidelity, than that which I recommend, leads to Rome. Who knows

what the state of the University may be, as regards Divinity

Professors in a few years hence? Anyhow, a great battle may be coming

on, of which C. D.'s book is a sort of earnest. The whole of _our_

day may be a battle with this spirit. May we not leave to another age

_its own_ evil--to settle the question of Romanism?"

I may add that from this time I had a Curate at St. Mary's, who

gradually took more and more of my work.

Also, this same year, 1840, I made arrangements for giving up the

_British Critic_, in the following July, which were carried into

effect at that date.

Such was about my state of mind, on the publication of Tract 90 in

February, 1841. The immense commotion consequent upon the publication

of the Tract did not unsettle me again; for I had weathered the

storm: the Tract had not been condemned: that was the great point; I

made much of it.

To illustrate my feelings during this trial, I will make extracts

from my letters to a friend, which have come into my possession. The

dates are respectively March 25, April 1, and May 9.

1. "I do trust I shall make no false step, and hope my friends will

pray for me to this effect. If, as you say, a destiny hangs over us,

a single false step may ruin all. I am very well and comfortable; but

we are not yet out of the wood."

2. "The Bishop sent me word on Sunday to write a letter to him

'_instanter_.' So I wrote it on Monday: on Tuesday it passed through

the press: on Wednesday it was out: and to-day [Thursday] it is in

London.

"I trust that things are smoothing now; and that we have made a

_great step_ is certain. It is not right to boast, till I am clear

out of the wood, _i.e._ till I know how the letter is received in

London. You know, I suppose, that I am to stop the Tracts; but you

will see in the Letter, though I speak _quite_ what I feel, yet I

have managed to take out on _my_ side my snubbing's worth. And this

makes me anxious how it will be received in London.

"I have not had a misgiving for five minutes from the first: but I do

not like to boast, lest some harm come."

3. "The Bishops are very desirous of hushing the matter up: and I

certainly have done my utmost to co-operate with them, on the

understanding that the Tract is not to be withdrawn or condemned."

And to my friend, Mr. Bowden, under date of March 15, "The Heads, I

believe, have just done a violent act: they have said that my

interpretation of the Articles is an _evasion_. Do not think that

this will pain me. You see, no _doctrine_ is censured, and my

shoulders shall manage to bear the charge. If you knew all, or were

here, you would see that I have asserted a great principle, and I

_ought_ to suffer for it:--that the Articles are to be interpreted,

not according to the meaning of the writers, but (as far as the

wording will admit) according to the sense of the Catholic Church."

Upon occasion of Tract 90 several Catholics wrote to me; I answered

one of my correspondents thus:--

"April 8.--You have no cause to be surprised at the discontinuance of

the Tracts. We feel no misgivings about it whatever, as if the cause

of what we hold to be Catholic truth would suffer thereby. My letter

to my Bishop has, I trust, had the effect of bringing the

preponderating _authority_ of the Church on our side. No stopping of

the Tracts can, humanly speaking, stop the spread of the opinions

which they have inculcated.

"The Tracts are not _suppressed_. No doctrine or principle has been

conceded by us, or condemned by authority. The Bishop has but said

that a certain Tract is 'objectionable,' no reason being stated. I

have no intention whatever of yielding any one point which I hold on

conviction; and that the authorities of the Church know full well."

In the summer of 1841, I found myself at Littlemore without any

harass or anxiety on my mind. I had determined to put aside all

controversy, and I set myself down to my translation of St.

Athanasius; but, between July and November, I received three blows

which broke me.

1. I had got but a little way in my work, when my trouble returned on

me. The ghost had come a second time. In the Arian History I found

the very same phenomenon, in a far bolder shape, which I had found in

the Monophysite. I had not observed it in 1832. Wonderful that this

should come upon me! I had not sought it out; I was reading and

writing in my own line of study, far from the controversies of the

day, on what is called a "metaphysical" subject; but I saw clearly,

that in the history of Arianism, the pure Arians were the

Protestants, the semi-Arians were the Anglicans, and that Rome now

was what it was. The truth lay, not with the _Via Media_, but in what

was called "the extreme party." As I am not writing a work of

controversy, I need not enlarge upon the argument; I have said

something on the subject in a volume which I published fourteen years

ago.

2. I was in the misery of this new unsettlement, when a second blow

came upon me. The bishops one after another began to charge against

me. It was a formal, determinate movement. This was the real

"understanding;" that, on which I had acted on occasion of Tract 90,

had come to nought. I think the words, which had then been used to

me, were, that "perhaps two or three might think it necessary to say

something in their charges;" but by this time they had tided over the

difficulty of the Tract, and there was no one to enforce the

"understanding." They went on in this way, directing charges at me,

for three whole years. I recognised it as a condemnation; it was the

only one that was in their power. At first I intended to protest; but

I gave up the thought in despair.

On October 17th, I wrote thus to a friend: "I suppose it will be

necessary in some shape or other to reassert Tract 90; else, it will

seem, after these Bishops' Charges, as if it were silenced, which it

has not been, nor do I intend it should be. I wish to keep quiet; but

if Bishops speak, I will speak too. If the view were silenced, I

could not remain in the Church, nor could many others; and therefore,

since it is _not_ silenced, I shall take care to show that it isn't."

A day or two after, Oct. 22, a stranger wrote to me to say, that the

Tracts for the Times had made a young friend of his a Catholic, and

to ask, "would I be so good as to convert him back;" I made answer:

"If conversions to Rome take place in consequence of the Tracts for

the Times, I do not impute blame to them, but to those who, instead

of acknowledging such Anglican principles of theology and

ecclesiastical polity as they contain, set themselves to oppose them.

Whatever be the influence of the Tracts, great or small, they may

become just as powerful for Rome, if our Church refuses them, as they

would be for our Church if she accepted them. If our rulers speak

either against the Tracts, or not at all, if any number of them, not

only do not favour, but even do not suffer the principles contained

in them, it is plain that our members may easily be persuaded either

to give up those principles, or to give up the Church. If this state

of things goes on, I mournfully prophesy, not one or two, but many

secessions to the Church of Rome."

Two years afterwards, looking back on what had passed, I said, "There

were no converts to Rome, till after the condemnation of No. 90."

3. As if all this were not enough, there came the affair of the

Jerusalem Bishopric; and, with a brief mention of it, I shall

conclude.

I think I am right in saying that it had been long a desire with the

Prussian Court to introduce Episcopacy into the Evangelical Religion,

which was intended in that country to embrace both the Lutheran and

Calvinistic bodies. I almost think I heard of the project, when I was

at Rome in 1833, at the hotel of the Prussian Minister, M. Bunsen,

who was most hospitable and kind, as to other English visitors, so

also to my friends and myself. I suppose that the idea of Episcopacy,

as the Prussian king understood it, was very different from that

taught in the Tractarian School; but still, I suppose also, that the

chief authors of that school would have gladly seen such a measure

carried out in Prussia, had it been done without compromising those

principles which were necessary to the being of a Church. About the

time of the publication of Tract 90, M. Bunsen and the then

Archbishop of Canterbury were taking steps for its execution, by

appointing and consecrating a Bishop for Jerusalem. Jerusalem, it

would seem, was considered a safe place for the experiment; it was

too far from Prussia to awaken the susceptibilities of any party at

home; if the project failed, it failed without harm to any one; and,

if it succeeded, it gave Protestantism a _status_ in the East, which

in association with the Monophysite or Jacobite and the Nestorian

bodies, formed a political instrument for England, parallel to that

which Russia had in the Greek Church and France in the Latin.

Accordingly, in July 1841, full of the Anglican difficulty on the

question of Catholicity, I thus spoke of the Jerusalem scheme in an

Article in the _British Critic_: "When our thoughts turn to the East,

instead of recollecting that there are Christian Churches there, we

leave it to the Russians to take care of the Greeks, and the French

to take care of the Romans, and we content ourselves with erecting a

Protestant Church at Jerusalem, or with helping the Jews to rebuild

their Temple there, or with becoming the august protectors of

Nestorians, Monophysites, and all the heretics we can hear of, or

with forming a league with the Mussulman against Greeks and Romans

together."

I do not pretend so long after the time to give a full or exact

account of this measure in detail. I will but say that in the Act of

Parliament, under date of October 5, 1841 (if the copy, from which I

quote, contains the measure as it passed the Houses), provision is

made for the consecration of "British subjects, or the subjects or

citizens of any foreign state, to be Bishops in any foreign country,

whether such foreign subjects or citizens be or be not subjects or

citizens of the country in which they are to act, and ... without

requiring such of them as may be subjects or citizens of any foreign

kingdom or state to take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, and

the oath of due obedience to the Archbishop for the time being" ...

also "that such Bishop or Bishops, so consecrated, may exercise,

within such limits, as may from time to time be assigned for that

purpose in such foreign countries by her Majesty, spiritual

jurisdiction over the ministers of British congregations of the

United Church of England and Ireland, and over _such other

Protestant_ Congregations, as may be desirous of placing themselves

under his or their authority."

Now here, at the very time that the Anglican Bishops were directing

their censure upon me for avowing an approach to the Catholic Church

not closer than I believed the Anglican formularies would allow, they

were on the other hand fraternising, by their act or by their

sufferance, with Protestant bodies, and allowing them to put

themselves under an Anglican Bishop, without any renunciation of

their errors or regard to the due reception of baptism and

confirmation; while there was great reason to suppose that the said

Bishop was intended to make converts from the orthodox Greeks, and

the schismatical Oriental bodies, by means of the influence of

England. This was the third blow, which finally shattered my faith in

the Anglican Church. That Church was not only forbidding any sympathy

or concurrence with the Church of Rome, but it actually was courting

an intercommunion with Protestant Prussia and the heresy of the

Orientals. The Anglican Church might have the apostolical succession,

as had the Monophysites; but such acts as were in progress led me to

the gravest suspicion, not that it would soon cease to be a Church,

but that it had never been a Church all along.

On October 12th I thus wrote to a friend:--"We have not a single

Anglican in Jerusalem, so we are sending a Bishop to _make_ a

communion, not to govern our own people. Next, the excuse is, that

there are converted Anglican Jews there who require a Bishop; I am

told there are not half-a-dozen. But for _them_ the Bishop is sent

out, and for them he is a Bishop of the _circumcision_" (I think he

was a converted Jew, who boasted of his Jewish descent), "against the

Epistle to the Galatians pretty nearly. Thirdly, for the sake of

Prussia, he is to take under him all the foreign Protestants who will

come; and the political advantages will be so great, from the

influence of England, that there is no doubt they will come. They are

to sign the Confession of Augsburg, and there is nothing to show that

they hold the doctrine of Baptismal Regeneration.

"As to myself, I shall do nothing whatever publicly, unless indeed it

were to give my signature to a Protest; but I think it would be out

of place in _me_ to agitate, having been in a way silenced; but the

Archbishop is really doing most grave work, of which we cannot see

the end."

I did make a solemn Protest, and sent it to the Archbishop of

Canterbury, and also sent it to my own Bishop, with the following

letter:--

"It seems as if I were never to write to your Lordship, without

giving you pain, and I know that my present subject does not

specially concern your Lordship; yet, after a great deal of anxious

thought, I lay before you the enclosed Protest.

"Your Lordship will observe that I am not asking for any notice of

it, unless you think that I ought to receive one. I do this very

serious act, in obedience to my sense of duty.

"If the English Church is to enter on a new course, and assume a new

aspect, it will be more pleasant to me hereafter to think, that I did

not suffer so grievous an event to happen, without bearing witness

against it.

"May I be allowed to say, that I augur nothing but evil, if we in any

respect prejudice our title to be a branch of the Apostolic Church?

That Article of the Creed, I need hardly observe to your Lordship, is

of such constraining power, that, if _we_ will not claim it, and use

it for ourselves, _others_ will use it in their own behalf against

us. Men who learn, whether by means of documents or measures, whether

from the statements or the acts of persons in authority, that our

communion is not a branch of the one Church, I foresee with much

grief, will be tempted to look out for that Church elsewhere.

"It is to me a subject of great dismay, that, as far as the Church

has lately spoken out, on the subject of the opinions which I and

others hold, those opinions are, not merely not _sanctioned_ (for

that I do not ask), but not even _suffered_.

"I earnestly hope that your Lordship will excuse my freedom in thus

speaking to you of some members of your Most Rev. and Right Rev.

Body. With every feeling of reverent attachment to your Lordship,

I am, etc."

PROTEST

"Whereas the Church of England has a claim on the allegiance of

Catholic believers only on the ground of her own claim to be

considered a branch of the Catholic Church:

"And whereas the recognition of heresy, indirect as well as direct,

goes far to destroy such claim in the case of any religious body

advancing it:

"And whereas to admit maintainers of heresy to communion, without

formal renunciation of their errors, goes far towards recognising the

same:

"And whereas Lutheranism and Calvinism are heresies, repugnant to

Scripture, springing up three centuries since, and anathematised by

East as well as West:

"And whereas it is reported that the Most Reverend Primate and other

Right Reverend Rulers of our Church have consecrated a Bishop with a

view to exercising spiritual jurisdiction over Protestant, that is,

Lutheran and Calvinist congregations in the East (under the

provisions of an Act made in the last session of Parliament to amend

an Act made in the 26th year of the reign of his Majesty King George

the Third, intituled, 'An Act to empower the Archbishop of

Canterbury, or the Archbishop of York for the time being, to

consecrate to the office of Bishop persons being subjects or citizens

of countries out of his Majesty's dominions'), dispensing at the

same time, not in particular cases and accidentally, but as if on

principle and universally, with any abjuration of error on the part

of such congregations, and with any reconciliation to the Church on

the part of the presiding Bishop; thereby giving some sort of formal

recognition to the doctrines which such congregations maintain:

"And whereas the dioceses in England are connected together by so

close an intercommunion, that what is done by authority in one,

immediately affects the rest:

"On these grounds, I in my place, being a priest of the English

Church and Vicar of St. Mary the Virgin's, Oxford, by way of

relieving my conscience, do hereby solemnly protest against the

measure aforesaid, and disown it, as removing our Church from her

present ground and tending to her disorganisation.

"JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.

"November 11, 1841."

Looking back two years afterwards on the above-mentioned and other

acts, on the part of Anglican Ecclesiastical authorities, I observe:

"Many a man might have held an abstract theory about the Catholic

Church, to which it was difficult to adjust the Anglican--might have

admitted a suspicion, or even painful doubts about the latter--yet

never have been impelled onwards, had our Rulers preserved the

quiescence of former years; but it is the corroboration of a present,

living, and energetic heterodoxy, which realises and makes them

practical; it has been the recent speeches and acts of authorities,

who had so long been tolerant of Protestant error, which have given

to inquiry and to theory its force and its edge."

As to the project of a Jerusalem Bishopric, I never heard of any good

or harm it has ever done, except what it has done for me; which many

think a great misfortune, and I one of the greatest of mercies. It

brought me on to the beginning of the end.