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JOHN    HENRY    NEWMAN,  1844 

From  the  drawing  by  W.  Richmond  in  the 
National  Portrait  Gallery 


OXFORD    EDITION 

NEWMAN'S 
APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA 

THE  TWO  VERSIONS  OF  1864  &  1865 

PRECEDED    BY 

NEWMAN'S  AND  KINGSLEY'S  PAMPHLETS 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

WILFRID  WARD 


HENRY  FROWDE 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON,  EDINBURGH,  GLASGOW 

NEW  YORK,  TORONTO,  MELBOURNE,  BOMBAY 

1913 


OXFORD  :  HORACE  HART 
PRINTER  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION 

MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN  : 
A  CORRESPONDENCE  ON  THE  QUESTION  WHETHER  DR.  NEW 
MAN   TEACHES   THAT  TRUTH  IS    NO  VIRTUE  ?  .  .  1 

"  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 
A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET  LATELY  PUBLISHED  BY  DR.  NEW 
MAN.    BY  THE  REV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY      ...       23 

APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

BEING  A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET  ENTITLED,  "  WHAT,  THEN, 
DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  "  BY  JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN, 
D.D.  1864 63 

[The  variations  of  the  1865  edition  are  given  throughout.] 

APPENDIX  :  MATTER  PECULIAR  TO  THE  1865  EDITION  479 


INTRODUCTION. 

THE  public  rightly  regards  the  Apologia  as  the  most 
typical  and  important  of  the  writings  of  its  author.  In 
the  first  place,  it  is,  in  some  ways,  his  most  characteristic 
work.  It  is  instinct  with  his  personality.  It  is  the  best 
exhibition  in  Newman's  published  writings  of  his  curious 
absorption  in  the  drama  of  his  own  life.  It  illustrates  the 
gifts  which  his  greatest  enemies  have  not  denied  him — his 
"  regal  "  English  style,  and  his  mastery  of  the  methods  of 
effective  controversy.  It  has  also  special  importance  in  the 
story  of  his  career,  for  it  marks  the  critical  turning  point 
of  his  fortunes  in  later  life.  When  the  Kingsley  controversy 
began,  Newman's  reputation  and  prospects  were  at  their 
lowest  ebb.  He  had,  since  joining  the  Catholic  Church  in 
1845,  been  entirely  hidden  from  the  public  eye,  and  it  is 
hardly  too  much  to  say  that  the  bulk  of  his  fellow  country 
men  had  almost  forgotten  his  existence.  He  had  devoted 
himself  entirely  to  the  duties  of  his  position  in  his  new 
communion.  Yet  his  work  for  the  Catholic  Church  had 
been  inadequately  appreciated  by  his  co-religionists.  The 
three  most  considerable  enterprises  he  had  undertaken — the 
Irish  University,  the  translation  of  the  Bible,  and  his  editor 
ship  of  the  Rambler  on  lines  which  should  enable  English 
Catholics  to  take  an  effective  share  in  the  thought  of  the 
day — had  all  failed.  By  an  influential  group  of  extremists 
his  orthodoxy  was  suspected,  and  they  had  done  their  best, 
not  wholly  without  success,  to  make  Rome  itself  share 
their  suspicions.  He  was  forgotten  by  the  world  at  large ; 
he  was  little  esteemed  by  Catholics  themselves. 

Kingsley 's  attack  gave  him  the  opportunity  for  setting 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

himself  right  alike  with  the  larger  public  and  with  the 
smaller.  The  opportunity  presented  difficulties,  but  it 
offered  a  great  prize.  His  chance  lay  in  a  battle  against 
heavy  odds.  Kingsley  was  a  widely  popular  writer.  In 
accusing  the  Catholic  priesthood  of  being  equivocators  and 
indifferent  to  truth,  he  had  on  his  side  the  widespread 
prejudice  of  the  English  public  of  1864.  When  he  added 
to  his  original  indictment  a  list  of  "  superstitious  "  beliefs 
which  Newman  himself  could  not  repudiate,  he  could  count 
on  still  wider  sympathy.  But  the  encounter,  though  it 
presented  great  difficulties,  offered,  as  I  have  said,  a  great 
opportunity.  Kingsley's  popularity  and  notoriety  would 
advertise  a  combat  with  him,  and  make  it  notorious  ;  thus 
it  meant  an  excellent  chance  of  gaining  the  attention  of 
the  world  at  large.  Moreover  Newman,  if  he  defended  the 
Catholic  priesthood  with  conspicuous  success,  was  sure  to 
win,  as  their  champion,  quite  a  new  position  among  his 
co-religionists. 

One  of  the  most  noteworthy  features  in  the  campaign 
was  Newman's  keen  appreciation  of  the  situation,  and  of 
the  conditions  on  which  victory  depended.  He  had  first  to 
rivet  general  attention  on  the  contest,  and  to  write  without 
being  tedious  to  the  average  reader ; — to  make  such  a  reader 
ready  to  follow  the  dispute  further.  This  he  succeeded 
in  doing  in  the  witty  pamphlet,  published  in  this  volume,  in 
which  he  summarized  his  correspondence  with  Kingsley, — 
a  brief  and  amusing  jew  d' esprit  which  all  could  enjoy.  That 
this  pamphlet  made  Kingsley  so  angry  as  to  forget  himself 
and  strike  random  blows  in  his  retort  entitled  "  What, 
then,  does  Dr.  Newman  mean  ?  "  was,  probably,  a  result 
foreseen  by  its  author  :  and  it  was  all  in  Newman's  favour. 
Then  Newman  had  to  keep  the  ball  rolling,  to  avoid  any 
such  delay  or  dullness  as  might  lose  for  him  the  general 
attention  he  had  won.  For  this  purpose  it  was  desirable 


INTRODUCTION,  vii 

that  the  Apologia  should  be  published  in  weekly  parts, 
and  the  first  parts  had  to  sustain  the  note  of  humorous 
banter  which  his  pamphlet  had  struck.  This  meant 
work  at  the  very  highest  pressure.  Easy  reading  means 
hard  writing  in  such  a  case.  Again,  he  had  to  find  suc 
cessfully  the  tone  which  could  make  the  advocate  of  an 
unpopular  cause  win  general  sympathy.  It  was  necessary 
to  bring  vividly  home  to  every  one  the  fact  that  he  was 
deeply  wronged,  that  a  serious  charge  had  been  brought, 
that  when  challenged  its  bringer  had  wholly  failed  to 
justify  it,  and  had  also  failed  to  make  any  adequate  apology 
for  his  slander.  When  once  Newman  had  completely  won 
public  sympathy  he  could  say  things  that  could  only  be  told 
to  sympathetic  ears.  He  could  then  relate  the  whole  story 
of  his  life,  and  could  make  plain  its  utter  sincerity.  The 
first  two  parts  of  the  Apologia  were  brief,  brilliant,  and  full 
of  indignant  passion.  Then  came  the  bulk  of  the  narrative, 
so  touching  to  those  who  had  become  really  interested  in 
the  man.  Lastly,  as  an  Appendix,  came  the  thirty -nine 
"  blots  ",  as  he  called  them, — with  a  humorous  suggestion 
in  their  number  of  the  Anglican  articles — in  which  the 
worst  of  Kingsley's  random  charges  were  swept  away  in 
such  a  tone  of  contempt  as  could  only  be  securely  adopted 
after  the  reader's  sympathy  was  entirely  won. 

The  occasion  was  great ;  the  work  was  exacting  ;  but 
Newman  rose  to  it  and  emerged  triumphant.  The  Apologia 
carried  the  country  by  storm.  It  became  a  classic  of 
the  language,  and  it  had  to  be  re -edited  that  its  form, 
as  well  as  its  substance,  might  befit  its  permanent 
character.  Its  form  had  to  be  no  longer  that  appropriate 
to  a  controversy  of  the  hour  in  which  rapier  thrusts  and 
colloquialisms  were  suitable  weapons,  but  that  of  an 
earnest  autobiography  which  could  stand  side  by  side 
with  those  of  St.  Augustine  and  Rousseau.  Its  very  title 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

was  changed  to  "  History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  ".  But 
his  admirers  had  grown  fond  of  the  old  title  of  a  book 
which  had  been  a  chief  landmark  in  his  life.  Apologia 
pro  vita  sua  eventually  reappeared  on  the  title  page.  The 
other  changes  were  permanent. 

The  present  volume  gives  to  the  public  for  the  first  time 
both  forms  of  the  work.  We  here  have  the  Apologia  in  the 
dramatic  form  of  its  original  composition,  and  we  have  the 
work  in  its  final  shape  as  permanent  literature.  In  each 
form  it  bears  evidence  of  Newman's  keen  sense  of  the 
fitness  of  things.  What  was  justified  only  as  a  retort  made 
in  heat  and  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  to  words  blurted 
out  by  Kingsley  himself  in  a  moment  of  anger,  was  with 
drawn.  The  last  chapter  was  no  longer  called  "  General 
answer  to  Mr.  Kingsley  "  ;  it  became,  "  The  Position  of  my 
mind  since  1845."  Such  omissions  and  alterations  indicate 
the  general  principle  on  which  the  book  was  re-edited.  Of 
some  specific  changes  in  the  text  I  will  speak  shortly. 

The  original  version  will  be  read  with  all  the  greater 
interest  if  we  call  to  mind  some  details  of  its  composition. 
Newman  first  sketched  the  plan  of  the  book.  The  principal 
heads  of  narrative  and  argument  were  written  up  in  large 
letters  and  pasted  on  the  wall  opposite  to  the  desk  at  which 
he  wrote.  Determined  not  to  fail  the  publishers  in  their 
weekly  number,  his  work  was  done  at  extraordinary 
pressure,  lasting  sometimes  right  through  the  night.  He 
was  found  more  than  once  with  his  head  in  his  hands, 
crying  like  a  child  over  the  sadness  of  the  memories  which 
his  task  recalled. 

"  I  have  now  been  for  five  weeks  at  it,"  he  writes  to  an 
intimate  friend  on  May  1st,  1864,  "  from  morning  to  night, 
and  I  shall  have  three  weeks  more.  ...  I  have  to  write  over 
and  over  again  from  the  necessity  of  digesting  and  com 
pressing." 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

The  following  brief  entries  in  his  diary  give  the  dates  : 
"  April  10.  Beginning  of  my  hard  work  for  the  Apologia. 
April  21st.  First  part  of  my  Apologia  out.  April  28th. 
Second  part.  May  5th.  Third  part.  May  12th.  Fourth 
part.  Sometimes  at  my  work  for  16  hours  running. 
May  19th.  Fifth  part.  May  20th.  At  my  Apologia  for 
22  hours  running.  May  26th.  Sixth  part  out.  June  9th. 
No  part  published." 

The  delay  meant  that  the  narrative  was  finished,  and 
that  a  fortnight  was  allowed  by  the  publishers  for  the 
Appendix. 

"  June  12th.  Sent  back  my  LAST  proof  to  the  printer." 
The  press,  led  by  Mr.  Hutton  in  the  Spectator,  gave  the 
work  an  enthusiastic  reception.  The  Saturday  Review,  which 
was  notoriously  free  from  the  favourable  bias  which  Hutton's 
known  admiration  for  Newman  might  make  people  suspect, 
and  which  was  then  at  the  zenith  of  its  reputation,  received 
it  in  a  tone  which  fairly  represents  that  of  the  bulk  of  the 
press  notices. 

"  A  loose  and  off-hand,  and,  we  may  venture  to  add,  an 
unjustifiable  imputation,  cast  on  Dr.  Newman  by  a  popular 
writer,  more  remarkable  for  vigorous  writing  than  vigorous 
thought,  has  produced  one  of  the  most  interesting  books 
of  the  present  literary  age." 

Such  are  the  words  with  which  the  review  in  the  Saturday 
opens,  and  it  continues  in  the  same  strain,  paying  tributes 
to  Dr.  Newman's  "  almost  unrivalled  logical  powers  "  and 
to  his  gifts  as  "  one  of  the  finest  masters  of  language  " 
among  contemporary  writers.  The  review  contains  a  close 
and  critical  examination  of  Newman's  position,  from  which 
the  writer,  naturally  enough,  dissents  most  strongly.  But 
it  treats  his  success  in  the  controversy  and  the  great  gifts 
apparent  in  his  writing  as  beyond  question.  That  a  book 
which  frankly  defended  its  author's  acceptance  of  the 

A3 


x  INTRODUCTION. 

doctrine  of  ecclesiastical  infallibility,  and  of  specific  modern 
miracles  which  the  public  of  1864  for  the  most  part  regarded 
as  credible  only  to  narrow,  superstitious,  and  childish 
minds,  should  meet  with  such  a  reception ;  and  that  a  man 
of  Kingsley's  popularity  not  only  should  fail  of  victory  but 
should  be  driven  out  of  the  field  in  his  endeavour  to 
make  capital  against  his  opponent  out  of  such  beliefs, 
is  a  remarkable  testimony  to  Newman's  conduct  of  the 
controversy. 

The  rough  handling  of  Kingsley  by  his  opponent  was 
a  marked  feature  in  the  original  Apologia.  Frederick 
Rogers  (afterwards  Lord  Blachford)  wrote  to  Newman  in 
great  anxiety  lest  it  might  turn  public  opinion  against  him. 
Newman  himself  felt  he  was  playing  a  dangerous  game,  yet 
that  if  his  angry  tone  succeeded  it  would  succeed  more 
completely  than  any  other.  And  it  did  succeed.  It  suc 
ceeded  so  completely  and  issued  in  such  an  acknowledged 
and  crushing  defeat  for  Kingsley  that  Newman's  warmest 
friends  found  themselves  feeling  sorry  for  the  man  whose 
attack  they  had  in  the  first  instance  deeply  resented. 

A  fine  literary  critic  among  Newman's  Oratorian  entourage 
— Father  Ignatius  Dudley  Ryder — wrote  at  the  time,  as 
quite  a  young  man,  the  following  note  of  his  own  impres 
sions  on  reading  Newman's  scathing  denunciation  of  his 
assailant,  and  on  passing  afterwards  to  the  touching  and 
beautiful  record  of  past  days,  for  which  this  polemical 
annihilation  of  the  invader  had  cleared  the  ground. 

"  In  reading  his  tremendous  handling  of  his  opponent 
in  the  introduction  and  conclusion  of  the  Apologia,  it  is 
impossible,  I  think,  whatever  may  be  one's  sympathies,  to 
avoid  a  sense  of  honest  pity  for  the  victim  as  for  one 
condemned  though  by  his  own  rashness  to  fight  with  gods 
or  with  the  elements.  It  is  not  merely  with  him  as  with 
one  hurled  from  his  chariot  in  an  Homeric  onset  with  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


XI 


gaping  wound  inflicted  by  a  single  spear,  but  his  form  is 
crushed  and  dislocated  ;  and  a  hostile  stream — Simois  or 
perad  venture  Scamander — hurries  him  away  rejoicing  in 
its  strength  with  the  rush  of  many  waters,  yet  not  so  far 
away  but  that  for  long,  and  still  beneath  the  sun  of  noon 
or  the  moon  at  night,  beneath  tempestuous  gleams  or  the 
keen  serenity  of  the  stars,  we  get  glimpses  of  the  helpless 
burden  as  it  is  tossed  hither  and  thither  in  the  eddying 
stream  until  the  darkness  swallows  it.  And  so  the  recent 
field  of  death  gives  birth  to  a  new  revelation  of  life,  and 
we  gaze  with  wonder  upon  heavy-fruited  trees  and  golden 
harvest,  and  our  thought  dwells  almost  tenderly  upon  the 
first  occasion  of  all  this  as  on  one  long  since  dead  who  was 
useful  in  his  generation  and  no  one's  enemy  but  his  own.' 

One  very  interesting  feature  of  Newman's  own  mentality 
in  this  connexion  remains  to  be  spoken  of.  When  editing 
the  Apologia  as  a  work  of  permanent  literature,  he  omitted, 
as  I  have  said,  his  more  angry  retorts  to  the  attacks  of 
Mr.  Kingsley.  Words  used  in  a  moment  of  anger  ought  not 
(he  felt)  to  be  repeated  in  cold  blood.  With  most 
readers  these  retorts  had  beyond  question  contributed 
largely  to  his  success  at  the  time.  They  had  brought 
home  to  the  public  the  fact  that  a  man  of  religious  life 
who  had  made  great  sacrifices  for  conscience'  sake 
had  been  accused  of  indifference  to  truth,  and  had 
deeply  resented  the  accusation.  For  a  moment  perhaps 
the  general  verdict  trembled  in  the  balance .  There  was  just 
a  chance  that  people  might  say  :  "  This  is  too  strong. 
Kingsley  has  not  deserved  all  this.  He  may  have  gone  too 
far,  but  he  has  made  his  apology.  With  this  Newman 
ought  to  be  contented."  In  insisting  that  the  apology  had 
been  inadequate  and  merely  conventional,  Newman  was 
hazarding  much  on  his  success  in  bringing  a  rather  fine 
distinction  home  to  a  rough-and-ready  public.  In  this 
however  he  was  successful.  The  anger  apparent  in  his 
reply  aroused  a  generous  sympathy  among  Englishmen. 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

There  were  comparatively  few  who  held  that  his  resent 
ment  had  gone  to  an  indefensible  extreme.  All  parties 
agreed  that  he  had  been  carried  away  by  passionate  and 
indignant  resentment  which  was  almost  irresistible  ;  one 
party — by  far  the  larger — sympathized  with  the  anger  of 
a  man  who  had  been  wronged,  the  other  held  with  Hort  that 
his  treatment  of  Kingsley  was  "  horribly  unchristian  ". 

Both  sides  probably  remembered  that  this  was  not  the 
first  time  that  Newman  had  used  strong  language  where 
a  charge  stung  him  deeply.  In  1862  a  rumour  was 
circulated  in  the  Globe  newspaper  that  he  was  about  to 
leave  the  Oratory  and  rejoin  the  Church  of  England. 
Newman's  public  denial  of  the  report  was  no  calm 
lawyer-like  disclaimer,  but  was  instinct  with  indignant 
passion  and  ended  with  the  following  paragraph  : 

"  I  do  hereby  profess  ex  animo,  with  an  absolute  internal 
assent  and  consent,  that  Protestantism  is  the  dreariest  of 
possible  religions  ;  that  the  thought  of  the  Anglican  service 
makes  me  shiver,  and  the  thought  of  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles  makes  me  shudder.  Return  to  the  Church  of 
England  !  No  !  '  The  net  is  broken,  and  we  are  delivered.' 
I  should  be  a  consummate  fool  (to  use  a  mild  term),  if  in 
my  old  age  I  left  *  the  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey  ' 
for  the  city  of  confusion  and  the  house  of  bondage." 

A  similar  instance  occurred  some  years  after  the  publica 
tion  of  the  Apologia,  and  made  people  recall  the  strength 
of  his  language  in  replying  to  Kingsley.  In  1872  Mr.  Capes 
published  in  the  Guardian  a  letter  which  virtually  accused 
Newman  of  accepting  the  Vatican  definition  outwardly  while 
inwardly  rejecting  it.  Newman's  published  reply  was  again 
marked  by  all  the  signs  .of  an  anger  which  had  carried  him 
away. 

"  I  thank  Mr.  Capes  for  having  put  into  print  what 
doubtless  has  often  been  said  behind  my  back  ;  I  do  not 
thank  him  for  the  odious  words  which  he  has  made  the 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

vehicle  of  it.  I  will  not  dirty  my  ink  by  repeating  them  ; 
but  the  substance,  mildly  stated,  is  this, — that  I  have  all 
along  considered  the  doctrine  of  the  Pope's  Infallibility  to 
be  contradicted  by  the  facts  of  Church  history,  and  that, 
though  convinced  of  this,  I  have,  in  consequence  of  the 
Vatican  Council,  forced  myself  to  do  a  thing  that  I  never, 
never  fancied  would  befall  me  when  I  became  a  Catholic — 
viz.,  forced  myself  by  some  unintelligible  quibbles  to  fancy 
myself  believing  what  really  after  all  in  my  heart  I  could 
not  and  did  not  believe.  And  that  this  operation  and  its 
result  had  given  me  a  considerable  amount  of  pain. 

"  I  could  say  much  and  quote  much  from  what  I  have 
written,  in  comment  upon  this  nasty  view  of  me." 

After  citations  from  his  own  earlier  writings  in  which  he 
had  clearly  avowed  his  belief  in  Papal  Infallibility,  Newman 
thus  summed  up  the  case  : 

"  I  underwent,  then,  no  change  of  mind  as  regards  the 
truth  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Pope's  Infallibility  in  con 
sequence  of  the  Council.  It  is  true  I  was  deeply,  though 
not  personally,  pained  both  by  the  fact  and  by  the  circum 
stances  of  the  definition  ;  and,  when  it  was  in  contemplation 
I  wrote  a  most  confidential  letter,  which  was  surreptitiously 
gained  and  published,  but  of  which  I  have  not  a  word  to 
retract.  The  feelings  of  surprise  and  concern  expressed  in 
that  letter  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  screwing  one's  con 
science  to  profess  what  one  does  not  believe,  which  is  Mr. 
Capes's  pleasant  account  of  me.  He  ought  to  know  better.' 

The  supposition  which  all  readers  of  the  angry  passages  in 
the  Apologia  and  of  these  letters,  friends  of  Newman  and 
foes  alike,  took  for  granted — that  they  were  ebullitions  of 
temper — was  shown  eventually  to  be  a  mistake.  When 
Newman's  private  correspondence  was  published  in  his 
Biography,  it  became  quite  clear  that  the  language  in  the 
letter  to  the  Globe  was  not,  as  it  seemed  at  the  time,  the 
effect  of  an  ungovernable  feeling  which  carried  him  away, 
but  had  been  carefully  calculated. 

"  No  common  denial  would  have  put  down  the  far  spread 


XIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


impression,"  he  writes  to  a  friend.  "  I  took  a  course  which 
would  destroy  it,  and,  as  I  think,  which  alone  would  be 
able  to  destroy  it.  It  is  little  or  nothing  to  me  that  people 
should  think  me  angry,  rude,  insulting,  &c.,  &c.  No 
common  language  would  have  done  the  work ;  I  had  to  use 
language  that  was  unmistakeably  my  own  and  could  not 
have  been  dictated  to  me  ...  I  have  done  the  work  now 
as  I  flatter  myself,  at  least  for  some  years  to  come,  and 
I  may  not  be  alive  by  the  time  that  a  new  denial  might 
have  been  necessary.' 

The  true  rationale  of  Newman's  strong  language  was 
vividly  brought  before  his  readers  on  the  publication, 
shortly  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Kingsley,  of  a  letter  to 
Sir  William  Cope.  Newman  expressly  declared  in  that 
letter  that  he  had  had  no  angry  feeling  whatever  towards 
Mr.  Kingsley,  but  had  used  the  language  of  anger  as  the 
only  method  of  carrying  conviction  to  the  public  : 

"  As  I  said  in  the  first  pages  of  my  Apologia,  it  is  very 
difficult  to  be  angry  with  a  man  one  has  never  seen.  A 
casual  reader  would  think  my  language  denoted  anger,  but 
it  did  not.  I  have  ever  felt  from  experience  that  no  one 
would  believe  me  in  earnest  if  I  spoke  calmly.  When  again 
and  again  I  denied  the  repeated  report  that  I  was  on  the 
point  of  coming  back  to  the  Church  of  England,  I  have 
uniformly  found  that  if  I  simply  denied  it,  this  only  made 
newspapers  repeat  the  report  more  confidently  ;  but  if 
I  said  something  sharp,  they  abused  me  for  scurrility 
against  the  Church  I  had  left,  but  they  believed  me.  Rightly 
or  wrongly,  this  was  the  reason  why  I  felt  it  would  not  do 
to  be  tame  and  not  to  show  indignation  at  Mr.  Kingsley  a 
charges.  Within  the  last  few  years  I  have  been  obliged  to 
adopt  a  similar  course  towards  those  who  said  I  could  not 
receive  the  Vatican  Decrees.  I  sent  a  sharp  letter  to  the 
Guardian,  and  of  course  the  Guardian  called  me  names, 
but  it  believed  me,  and  did  not  allow  the  offence  of  its 
correspondent  to  be  repeated." 

Newman's  use  of  strong  language  was  then  due  to  that 
close  knowledge  of  the  effect  produced  by  words  on  the 


INTRODUCTION.  xv 

public  mind  which  was  so  marked  a  feature  in  his  conduct 
of  the  whole  controversy.  The  overmastering  passion 
which  carried  his  readers  away  was  not  real  but  simulated. 
Doubtless  there  will  be  some  who  will  resent  this  method  as 
histrionic.  They  will  say  that  Newman  was  acting  a  part, 
that  the  charm  of  sincerity  is  absent  from  words  so  carefully 
calculated.  But  this  appears  to  me  a  false  estimate.  It 
was  no  case  of  using  language  which  he  did  not  consider  to 
be,  in  itself,  justified,  with  the  object  of  producing  a  certain 
controversial  effect.  On  the  contrary,  he  evidently  thought 
an  indignant  denial  and  angry  language  the  appropriate 
retort  richly  deserved  by  Kingsley's  accusation,  and  repre 
senting  truly  his  own  view  though  not  any  lively  personal 
feeling.  He  was  using  the  words  appropriate  to  the  situa 
tion,  as  an  old  man,  past  all  lively  feeling,  may  express  in 
answer  to  some  exceptional  public  testimonial  overpowering 
emotions  of  gratitude,  of  which  he  is  physically  incapable, 
and  which  are  yet  the  feelings  appropriate  to  the  situation. 
And  the  case  was  similar  in  the  other  instances  to  which 
I  have  referred. 

The  anonymous  assailant  in  the  Globe  was  unknown  to 
him.  He  may  have  been,  for  all  Newman  knew,  a  mere 
crank,  or  an  Exeter  Hall  fanatic  like  the  late  Mr.  Kensit, 
with  whom  no  one  feels  angry.  Nevertheless  the  words  as 
they  stood  in  the  newspaper  fully  deserved  the  vehemence 
and  indignation  conveyed  by  his  letter.  As  to  the  letter  of 
1872  to  the  Guardian,  it  is  likely  enough  that  his  sympathy 
with  Mr.  Capes 's  religious  trials  precluded  any  angry  feeling 
at  the  time  of  writing.  Yet  people  knew  that  Capes  had 
been  a  more  or  less  intimate  friend  ;  and  probably  anything 
short  of  an  angry  denial  on  Newman's  part  would  have  been 
open  to  the  interpretation  that,  though  he  felt  in  duty 
bound  formally  to  disclaim  the  accusation  that  he  did  not 
accept  the  Vatican  decrees  in  his  heart,  his  real  feeling  was 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

much  what  Mr.  Capes  had  represented  it  to  be.  It  is 
noteworthy  that  in  the  sweeping  current  of  his  angry 
disclaimer,  Newman  slips  in  a  clause  to  the  effect  that  he 
has  not  a  word  to  retract  of  his  strong  letter  to  Bishop 
Ullathorne  in  which  he  deplored  the  prospect  of  the 
definition.  Thus  the  letter  to  the  Guardian,  while  couched 
in  rhetorical  terms  which  satisfied  the  indignation  of  loyal 
Catholics,  cannot  possibly  be  charged  with  misrepresenting 
Newman's  own  attitude  in  the  smallest  degree. 

The  Kingsley  case  was  one  which  called  for  the  language 
of  anger  yet  more  obviously  than  the  other  two.  A  very 
popular  writer  was  attacking  Newman  and  bringing 
charges  against  the  Catholic  priesthood,  which  widespread 
prejudice  made  Englishmen  very  ready  to  credit.  Newman 
had,  therefore,  to  fight  against  great  odds.  He  had  to  win 
over  public  opinion  by  bringing  home  to  it  the  injustice  of 
Kingsley's  method.  If  he  did  not  feel  carried  away  by 
anger  against  a  man  whom  he  did  not  know  personally, 
and  whose  reputation  made  any  such  attack  on  the  Catholic 
Church  from  his  pen  almost  the  mechanical  exhibition  of  an 
idee  fixe,  this  was  surely  no  reason  for  refraining  from 
bringing  home  to  the  public  by  the  only  means  in  his  power, 
the  indignation  such  charges  objectively  merited.  Theft 
may  be  due  in  an  individual  to  kleptomania,  yet  theft  must 
be  reprobated  by  all  the  force  of  public  opinion  ;  we  must 
endorse  that  opinion  on  occasions  even  though  we  cannot 
feel  any  moral  animus  against  the  kleptomaniac.  English 
men  in  general  would  not  be  saying,  "  Kingsley  so  hates 
the  Church  of  Borne  that  he  cannot  help  making  unfair 
charges."  On  the  contrary,  they  would  take  Kingsley's 
words  as  a  damaging  expression  of  the  conviction  of  an 
honest  man ;  and  it  was  in  this,  their  objective  aspect,  that 
they  had  to  be  answered. 

One  or  two  further  changes  in  the  text  which  have  no 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii 

relation  to  Mr.  Kingsley  may  here  be  noted.  One  of  them 
relates  to  my  own  father.  Mr.  Hutton,  Abbe  Bremond, 
and  other  students  of  Newman,  have  commented  in  some 
surprise  on  the  fact  that  my  father's  name  is  never  men 
tioned  in  the  Apologia.  When  I  was  quite  a  boy  I  was 
reading  the  first  edition  of  the  Apologia  when  it  was  not  many 
years  old,  and  my  father  said  to  me :  "  Page  277 1  and  the 
following  pages  are  mainly  a  description  of  me.  When  I 
read  them  I  realized  for  the  first  time  how  much  I  had  irri 
tated  Newman  at  Oxford.  He  does  not  mention  my  name, 
and  that  is  partly  because  of  his  present  displeasure  with 
me.  But  also  it  has  a  more  friendly  reason,  for  he  did  not 
wish  to  pass  criticisms  on  me  by  name.  He  mentions 
Oakeley  who  was  identified  with  my  views  at  Oxford,  and 
then  except s  him  personally  from  his  criticisms."  The 
passage  he  specially  pointed  to  as  evidencing  Newman's 
irritation  in  Oxford  days,  was  that  in  which  he  inti 
mates  that  the  representatives  of  the  avowedly  Roman 
section  of  the  Movement  worried  him  by  incessant  argu 
ment  and  publicly  claimed  his  assent — which  they  had 
forcibly  extorted — to  their  own  conclusions.  My  father 
said  that  he  himself  was  the  typical  logician  referred  to 
in  the  passage.  "  To  come  to  me  with  methods  of  logic," 
Newman  writes,  "  had  in  it  the  nature  of  a  provocation." 
And  again  : 

"  It  might  so  happen  that  I  got  simply  confused  by  the 
very  clearness  of  the  logic  which  was  administered  to  me 
and  thus  gave  my  sanction  to  conclusions  which  really 
were  not  mine  :  and  when  the  report  of  those  conclusions 
came  round  to  me  through  others  I  had  to  unsay  them. 
And  then  again  perhaps  I  did  not  like  to  see  men  scared 
or  scandalized  by  unfeeling  logical  influences  which  would 
not  have  touched  them  to  the  day  of  their  death  had 
they  not  been  made  to  eat  them.  And  then  I  felt  altogether 

1  This  corresponds  with  p.  259  of  the  present  edition. 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

the  force  of  the  maxim  of  St.  Ambrose  :  Non  in  dialectica 
complacuit  Deo  salvum  facere  populum  suum" 1 

An  old  letter  to  Pusey,  quoted  two  pages  later,  in  which 
the  attempt  of  an  unnamed  A.B.  to  "  force  "  him  beyond 
what  he  "  can  fairly  accept "  is  stigmatized  as  a  "  nuisance  ", 
obviously  referred  to  the  same  trial. 

In  the  later  editions  the  name  "  Ward  "  was  inserted  in 
place  of  A.B.,  so  that  it  could  no  longer  be  said  that  my 
father  was  unmentioned.  At  the  same  time  the  text  was 
changed,  in  one  case  by  getting  rid  of  a  colloquialism  which 
savoured  of  irritation  ; — "  forced  to  recognize  them  "  was 
substituted  for  "  made  to  eat  them  ".  The  other  change— 
"  strength  of  the  logic  "  in  place  of  "  clearness  of  the  logic  " 
— does  not  seem  to  me  an  improvement,  though  its  cause 
was  obvious.  It  was  doubtless  designed  to  get  rid  of  the 
apparent  paradox  that  the  "  clearness  "  of  my  father's 
logic  could  have  the  effect  of  "  confusing "  Newman. 
"  Strength  "  of  logic,  on  the  other  hand,  might,  like  strong 
wine,  have  a  confusing  effect.  Yet  to  confuse  by  its  clearness 
was  in  fact,  I  think,  at  times  just  the  effect  of  my  father's 
reasoning.  His  arguments  were  clear  as  those  of  Euclid,  and 
they  were  most  confusing  when  one  felt  that  they  apparently 
demonstrated  a  conclusion  which  was  obviously  false.  One 
could  not  at  once  see  the  point  at  which  he  had  left  out 
relevant  facts  which  should  have  modified  his  conclusion  ; 
yet  these  facts  were  present  subconsciously  in  one's  mind. 
The  combination  of  the  clearest  demonstration  from 
premisses  of  which  one  was  conscious,  with  latent  knowledge 
of  other  premisses  inconsistent  with  the  conclusion,  was 
most  confusing. 

In  later  years  Newman  went  yet  further  in  avowing  the 
truth  of  my  father's  inferences  from  the  text  of  the  Apologia. 
In  a  letter  to  myself  of  January  1885,  he  writes  : 
1  Vide  infra,  p.  264. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

"  Your  father  was  never  a  High  Churchman,  never 
a  Tractarian,  never  a  Puseyite,  never  a  Newmanite.  What 
his  line  was  is  described  in  the  Apologia,  pp.  163  seq." 

pages  exactly  corresponding  in  the  then  current  edition 
of  the  Apologia  to  those  pointed  out  to  me  by  my  father 
himself  in  the  original  edition. 

Yet  further  light  was  thrown  on  Newman's  annoyance 
at  the  pressure  of  W.  G.  Ward's  logic,  by  a  passage  in 
Dean  Church's  Oxford  Movement,  published  in  1890,  which 
runs  as  follows  : 

"  Mr.  Ward  was  in  the  habit  of  appealing  to  Mr.  Newman 
to  pronounce  on  the  soundness  of  his  principles  and 
inferences  with  the  view  of  getting  Mr.  Newman's  sanction 
for  them  against  more  timid  or  more  dissatisfied  friends  ; 
and  he  would  come  down  with  great  glee  on  objectors  to 
some  new  and  startling  position,  with  the  reply  '  Newman 
says  so.'  .  .  .  Mr.  Ward  was  continually  forcing  on  Mr.  New 
man  so-called  irresistible  inferences  :  '  If  you  say  so  and  so, 
surely  you  must  also  say  something  more  ?  '  Avowedly 
ignorant  of  facts,  and  depending  for  them  on  others,  he 
was  only  concerned  with  logical  consistency.  And  accord 
ingly  Mr.  Newman,  with  whom  producible  logical  con 
sistency  was  indeed  a  great  thing,  but  with  whom  it  was 
very  far  from  being  everything,  had  continually  to  accept 
conclusions  which  he  would  rather  have  kept  in  abeyance, 
to  make  admissions  which  were  used  without  their  quali 
fications,  to  push  on  and  sanction  extreme  ideas  which  he 
himself  shrank  from  because  they  were  extreme.  But  it 
was  all  over  with  his  command  of  time,  his  liberty  to  make 
up  his  mind  slowly  on  the  great  decision.  He  had  to  go 
at  Mr.  Ward's  pace  and  not  his  own.  He  had  to  take 
Mr.  Ward's  questions,  not  when  he  wanted  to  have  them 
and  at  his  own  time,  but  at  Mr.  Ward's.  No  one  can  tell 
how  much  this  state  of  things  affected  the  working  of 
Mr.  Newman's  mind  in  that  pause  of  hesitation  before  the 
final  step  ;  how  far  it  accelerated  the  view  which  he 
ultimately  took  of  his  position.  No  one  can  tell,  for  many 


xx  INTRODUCTION. 

other  influences  were  mixed  up  with  this  one.  But  there  is 
no  doubt  that  Mr.  Newman  felt  the  annoyance  and  the 
unfairness  of  this  perpetual  questioning  for  the  benefit  of 
Mr.  Ward's  theories,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that, 
in  effect,  it  drove  him  onwards  and  cut  short  his  time  of 
waiting.  Engineers  tell  us  that,  in  the  case  of  a  ship  rolling 
in  a  sea-way,  when  the  periodic  times  of  the  ship's  roll 
coincide  with  those  of  the  undulations  of  the  waves,  a 
condition  of  things  arises  highly  dangerous  to  the  ship's 
stability.  So  the  agitations  of  Mr.  Newman's  mind  were 
reinforced  by  the  impulses  of  Mr.  Ward's." 

Another  change  in  the  text  has  some  relation  to  my 
father,  though  a  less  direct  one.  Newman  had  used  the 
opportunity  given  him  by  Kingsley's  attack  to  point  out 
that  there  was  a  "  violent  ultra  party  "  among  Catholics, 
"  which  exalts  opinions  into  dogmas,  and  has  it  principally  at 
heart  to  destroy  every  school  of  thought  but  its  own."  And 
his  correspondence  shows  that  in  this  part  of  his  treatment 
he  was  aiming  at  what  he  held  to  be  my  father's  exaggera 
tions  as  to  the  import  of  Papal  Infallibility  and  other  cog 
nate  matters.1  His  words  applied,  I  think,  in  reality  more 
closely  to  passages  in  the  writings  of  M.  Louis  Veuillot  of  the 
Univers  than  to  anything  my  father  published.  Newman 
pointed  out  that  the  Holy  See  has  no  magical  power  of 
teaching  new  truth  infallibly,  but  represents  the  con 
servative  element  which  preserves  the  original  deposit  of 
faith.  He  held  that,  properly  understood,  the  claim  to 
infallibility  made  by  the  Catholic  Church  was  even  a  per 
suasive  claim  in  view  of  the  tendency  of  free  discussion  on 
the  fundamental  truths  of  religion  to  issue  simply  in 
unbelief.  Yet  to  exaggerate  the  Church's  claim  beyond 
a  certain  point  was  to  make  it  incredible.  The  appeal 
presented  to  reason  and  imagination  alike  by  the  Catholic 
Church  as  the  "  concrete  representative  of  things  invi- 

1  Life  of  Newman,  vol.  ii,  p.  92. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi 

sible  "  bearing  witness  to  the  unseen  world  amid  the 
confused  voices  and  uncertain  results  of  speculation  was 
cogent.  The  exponents  of  an  exaggerated  Ultramontanism 
were  turning  what  was  winning  and  persuasive  into  some 
thing  impossible  and  grotesque.  In  their  intellectual  analysis 
of  religion  they  were  claiming  a  completeness  of  truth  for  the 
orthodox,  a  completeness  of  error  for  the  unorthodox,  which 
patent  facts  obviously  disproved. 

In  the  wave  of  success  which  had  come  after  the 
Apologia  had  appeared,  he  could  emphasize  more  clearly 
than  he  had  thought  wise  while  he  was  writing  it,  some  of 
his  contentions  against  writers  who  were,  he  considered, 
ignoring  patent  facts  of  history  and  making  rational 
apologetic  in  some  departments  difficult  or  impossible. 
One  new  passage,  on  the  value  and  partial  truth  of  the 
writings  of  men  who  may,  nevertheless,  have  fallen  into 
heresy,  is  a  noteworthy  one.  Newman's  thesis  is  that  "  indi 
viduals,  and  not  the  Holy  See,  have  taken  the  initiative,  and 
given  the  lead  to  the  Catholic  mind,  in  theological  inquiry  ", 
and  that  the  function  of  Home  is  mainly  conservative — 
not  to  originate  Catholic  thought,  but  rather  to  check  pre 
mature  or  false  developments.  He  signalizes  St.  Augustine 
and  the  African  Church  as  the  best  early  exponents  of 
the  Latin  ideas,  and  adds  the  following  passage  in  later 
editions  : 

"  Moreover,  of  the  African  divines,  the  first  in  order  of 
time,  and  not  the  least  influential,  is  the  strong-minded  and 
heterodox  Tertullian.  Nor  is  the  Eastern  intellect,  as  such, 
without  its  share  in  the  formation  of  the  Latin  teaching. 

mi £ j  i  _  i   i        A   s~\    *  •  o 


*       VJ..LV/      JLVSJ.  .LJ-LCU  iALV^JLJL       \JA.        UJJL.V./       J^JCt  LJJJ.       Vt/ CtUJ.il lit'  . 

The  free  thought  of  Origen  is  visible  in  the  writings  of  the 
Western  Doctors,  Hilary  and  Ambrose  ;  and  the  inde 
pendent  mind  of  Jerome  has  enriched  his  own  vigorous 
commentaries  on  Scripture,  from  the  stores  of  the  scarcely 
orthodox  Eusebius.  Heretical  questionings  have  been 
transmuted  by  the  living  power  of  the  Church  into  salutary 

4- -Mil  4- !•»*-«       ^ 


truths." 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

The  further  variations  between  the  different  editions 
witness  mainly  to  Newman's  extreme  care  in  revising  all 
that  he  wrote.  They  are  well  worth  studying  in  detail, 
but  call  for  no  further  remarks  here. 

The  interest  in  the  Apologia  was  not  confined  to  English 
men.  Newman's  University  Sermons  and  his  Essay  on  the 
Development  of  Christian  Doctrine  had  long  existed  in 
a  French  form.  And  his  French  admirers  wished  to  have 
the  Apologia  in  their  own  language.  A  translation  appeared 
in  1866  and  had  to  be  reprinted  in  1868.  Newman  showed 
the  same  interest  in  meeting  the  requirements  of  his  new 
public  and  adapting  the  work  to  their  needs  as  he  had  done 
in  re-editing  it  for  English  readers.  He  wrote  two  Appen 
dixes  for  the  French  edition,  which  are  so  interesting  that 
I  here  append  them,  as  completing  the  picture  which  this 
volume  aims  at  presenting  of  the  history  of  the  Apologia  in 
its  various  phases. 

The  first  is  on  the  constitution  and  history  of  the  Church 
of  England : 

"  There  is,  perhaps,  no  other  institution  in  which  the 
English  have  shown  their  love  of  compromise  in  political 
and  social  affairs  so  strikingly  as  in  the  established  national 
Church.  Luther,  Calvin  and  Zwingli,  all  enemies  of  Rome, 
were  equally  the  enemies  of  one  another.  Of  other  Protes 
tant  sects  the  Erastians,  Puritans  and  Arminians  are  also 
different  and  hostile.  But  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  the  Anglican  ecclesiastical  Establishment  is  an  amal 
gamation  of  all  these  varieties  of  Protestantism,  to  which 
a  considerable  amount  of  Catholicism  is  superadded. 
The  Establishment  is  the  outcome  of  the  action  which 
Henry  VIII,  the  ministers  of  Edward  VI,  Mary,  Elizabeth, 
the  Cavaliers,  the  Puritans,  the  Latitudinarians  of  1688, 
and  the  Methodists  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  successively 
brought  to  bear  on  religion.  It  has  a  hierarchy  dating 
from  the  Middle  Ages,  richly  endowed,  exalted  by  its  civil 
position,  formidable  by  its  political  influence.  The  Estab 
lished  Church  has  preserved  the  rites,  the  prayers  and  the 


INTRODUCTION.  xxiii 

symbols  of  the  ancient  Church.  She  draws  her  articles  of 
faith  from  Lutheran  and  Zwinglian  sources  ;  her  transla 
tion  of  the  Bible  savours  of  Calvinism.  She  can  boast  of 
having  had  in  her  bosom,  espepially  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  a  succession  of  theologians  of  great  learning  and 
proud  to  make  terms  with  the  doctrines  and  practices  of 
the  primitive  Church.  The  great  Bossuet,  contemplating 
her  doctors,  said  that  it  was  impossible  that  the  English 
should  not  one  day  come  back  to  the  faith  of  their  fathers  ; 
and  De  Maistre  hailed  the  Anglican  communion  as  being 
destined  to  play  a  great  part  in  the  reconciliation  and 
reunion  of  Christendom. 

This  remarkable  Church  has  always  been  in  the  closest 
dependence  on  the  civil  power  and  has  always  gloried  in 
this.  It  has  ever  regarded  the  Papal  power  with  fear,  with 
resentment  and  with  aversion,  and  it  has  never  won  the 
heart  of  the  people.  In  this  it  has  shown  itself  consistent 
throughout  the  course  of  its  existence  ;  in  other  concerns 
it  has  either  had  no  opinions  or  has  constantly  changed 
them.  In  the  sixteenth  century  it  was  Calvinist ;  in  the 
first  half  of  the  seventeenth  it  was  Arminian  and  quasi - 
Catholic  ;  towards  the  close  of  that  century  and  at  the 
beginning  of  the  next  it  was  latitudinarian.  In  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  described  by  Lord  Chatham 
as  having  '  a  papistical  ritual  and  prayer-book,  Calvinist 
articles  of  faith  and  an  Arminian  clergy  '. 

In  our  days  it  contains  three  powerful  parties  in  which 
are  embodied  the  three  principles  of  religion  which  appear 
constantly  and  from  the  beginning  of  its  history  in  one 
form  or  another  ;  the  Catholic  principle,  the  Protestant 
principle,  and  the  sceptical  principle.  Each  of  these,  it  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say,  is  violently  opposed  to  the  other 
two. 

Firstly :  the  apostolic  or  Tractarian  party,  which  is 
now  moving  in  the  direction  of  Catholicism  further  than 
at  any  other  time,  or  in  any  previous  manifestation;  to 
such  an  extent,  that,  in  studying  this  party  among  its  most 
advanced  adherents,  one  may  say  that  it  differs  in  nothing 
from  Catholicism  except  in  the  doctrine  of  Papal  supremacy. 
The  party  arose  in  the  seventeenth  century,  at  the  courts 
of  James  I  and  Charles  I ;  it  was  almost  extinguished  by 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


the  doctrines  of  Locke  and  by  the  ascent  to  the  throne  of 
William  III  and  the  House  of  Hanover.  But  in  the  course 
of  the  eighteenth  century  its  principles  were  taught  and 
silently  transmitted  by  the  '  non- jurors  ',  a  sect  of  learned 
and  zealous  men  who,  preserving  the  episcopal  succession, 
separated  themselves  from  the  Church  of  England  when 
summoned  to  take  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  William  III.  In 
our  day  it  has  been  seen  to  revive  and  form  a  numerous  and 
increasing  party  in  the  Church  of  England,  by  means  of  the 
movement  started  by  the  writings  entitled :  Tracts  for  the 
Times,  (and  thence  called  Tractarian,)  of  which  there  is 
such  constant  mention  in  this  book. 

Secondly  :  the  Evangelical  party  which  maintains  all 
the  biblical  societies  and  most  of  the  associations  for 
protestant  missions  throughout  the  world.  The  origin  of 
this  party  may  be  traced  back  to  the  puritans,  who  began 
to  show  themselves  in  the  last  years  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
reign.  It  was  almost  entirely  thrown  out  of  the  Church  of 
England  at  the  time  of  the  restoration  of  Charles  II  in  1660. 
It  took  refuge  among  the  dissenters  from  that  Church  and 
was  expiring  little  by  little  when  its  doctrines  were  revived 
with  great  vigour  by  the  celebrated  preachers  Whitfield  and 
Wesley,  both  pastors  of  the  Anglican  Church  and  founders 
of  the  powerful  sect  of  the  Methodists.  These  doctrines, 
while  creating  a  sect  outside  the  established  Church, 
exercised  at  the  same  time  an  important  influence  in  the 
bosom  of  that  Church  itself,  and  developed  there  little  by 
little  until  it  formed  the  evangelical  party,  which  is  to-day 
by  far  the  most  important  of  the  three  schools  which  we  are 
trying  to  describe. 

Thirdly  :  the  Liberal  party,  known  in  previous  centuries 
by  the  less  honourable  name  of  Latitudinarian.  It  broke 
off  from  the  quasi-Catholic  party,  or  Court  party,  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  I,  and  was  fed  and  extended  by  the  intro 
duction  into  England  of  the  principles  of  Grotius  and  of  the 
Arminians  of  Holland.  We  have  already  referred  to  the 
philosophy  of  Locke  as  having  had  an  influence  in  the  same 
direction.  This  party  took  the  side  of  the  revolution  of 
1688,  and  supported  the  Whigs,  William  III,  and  the  House 
of  Hanover.  The  spirit  of  its  principles  is  opposed  to 
extension  and  proselytism  ;  and,  although  it  has  numbered 


INTRODUCTION.  xxv 

in  its  ranks  remarkable  writers  among  the  Anglican  theo 
logians,  it  had  had  but  few  votaries  until  ten  years  ago, 
when,  irritated  by  the  success  of  the  Tractarians,  taking 
advantage  of  the  conversion  of  some  of  their  principal 
leaders  to  the  Roman  Church,  and  aided  by  the  importation 
of  German  literature  into  England,  this  party  suddenly 
came  before  the  public  view  and  was  propagated  among 
the  best  educated  classes  with  a  rapidity  so  astonishing 
that  it  is  almost  justifiable  to  believe  that  in  the  coming 
generation  the  religious  world  will  be  divided  between  the 
Deists  and  the  Catholics.  The  principles  and  arguments 
of  the  Liberals  do  not  even  stop  at  deism. 

If  the  Anglican  communion  were  composed  solely  of 
these  three  parties  it  could  not  exist.  It  would  be  broken 
up  by  its  internal  dissensions.  But  there  is  in  its  bosom 
a  party  more  numerous  by  far  than  these  three  theological 
ones — a  party  which,  created  by  the  legal  position  of  the 
Church,  profiting  by  its  riches  and  by  the  institutions  of 
its  creed,  is  the  counter  weight  and  the  chain  which  secures 
the  whole.  It  is  the  party  of  order,  the  party  of  Conserva 
tives,  or  Tories  as  they  have  hitherto  been  called.  It  is 
not  a  religious  party,  not  that  it  has  not  a  great  number  of 
religious  men  in  its  ranks,  but  because  its  principles  and  its 
mots  d'ordre  are  political  or  at  least  ecclesiastical  rather 
than  theological.  Its  members  are  neither  Tractarians,  nor 
Evangelicals,  nor  Liberals  ;  or,  if  they  are,  it  is  in  a  very 
mild  and  very  unaggressive  form ;  because,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world  their  chief  characteristic  consists  in  their  being 
advocates  of  an  Establishment  and  of  the  Establishment,  and 
they  are  more  zealous  for  the  preservation  of  a  national 
Church  than  solicitous  for  the  beliefs  which  that  national 
Church  professes.  We  said  above  that  the  great  principle 
of  the  Anglican  Church  was  its  confidence  in  the  protection 
of  the  civil  power  and  its  docility  in  serving  it,  which  its 
enemies  call  its  Erastianism.  Now  if  on  the  one  hand  this  re 
spect  for  the  civil  power  be  its  great  principle,  the  principle  of 
Erastianism  is,  on  the  other  hand,  embodied  in  so  numerous 
a  party  whether  among  the  clergy  or  the  laity,  that  the 
word  *  party  '  is  scarcely  adequate.  It  constitutes  the  mass 
of  the  Church.  The  clergy  in  particular — Bishops,  Deans, 
Chapters,  Rectors — are  always  distinguished  by  their 


INTRODUCTION. 


Toryism  on  all  English  questions.     In  the  seventeenth 
century  they  professed  the  divine  right  of  kings  ;  they  have 
ever  since  gloried  in  the  doctrine  :    '  The  King  is  the  head 
of   the   Church  ;  '     and   their   after-dinner   toast :     '  The 
Church  and  the  King  '  has  been  their  formula  of  protesta 
tion  for  maintaining  in  the  kingdom  of  England  the  theo 
retical  predominance  of  the  spiritual  over  the  temporal. 
They  have  always  testified  an  extreme  aversion  for  what 
they  term  the  power  usurped  by  the  Pope.     Their  chief 
theological  dogma  is  that  the  Bible  contains  all  necessary 
truths,  and  that  every  Christian  is  individually  capable  of 
discovering  them  there  for  his  own  use.    They  preach  Christ 
as  the  only  mediator,  redemption  by  His  death,  the  renewal 
of  man  by  His  Spirit,  the  necessity  for  good  works.    This 
great  assembly  of  men,  true  representatives  of  that  English 
common  sense  which  is  so  famous  for  its  good  as  for  its  evil 
consequences,  mostly  regard  every  kind  of  theology,  every 
theological  school,  and  in  particular  the  three  schools  which 
we  have  tried  to  portray,  with  mistrust.    In  the  seventeenth 
century  they  combated  the  Puritans  ;   at  the  close  of  that 
century  they  combated  the  Latitudinarians  ;  in  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century  they  combated  the  Methodists 
and  the  members  of  the  Evangelical  party ;  and  in  our  own 
times  they  have  made  an  energetic  stand  at  first  against 
the  Tractarians  and  to-day  against  the  Liberals. 

This  party  of  order  in  the  Established  Church  has  neces 
sarily  many  subdivisions.  The  country  clergy,  rejoicing 
in  great  ease,  in  intimate  relations  with  the  county 
gentlemen  of  their  neighbourhood  and  always  benevo 
lent  and  charitable,  are  much  respected  and  beloved  by 
the  lower  classes  on  account  of  their  position,  but  not 
for  the  influence  of  their  doctrine.  But  amongst  ecclesi 
astics  who  enjoy  great  revenues  and  have  not  much  to  do 
(such  as  the  members  of  the  Cathedral  chapters),  many 
have  long  since  deteriorated  in  the  pursuit  of  their  personal 
advantage.  Those  who  held  high  positions  in  great  towns 
have  been  led  to  adopt  the  habits  of  a  great  position  and 
of  external  display,  and  have  boasted  a  formal  orthodoxy 
which  was  cold  and  almost  entirely  devoid  of  interior  life. 
These  self-indulgent  pastors  have  for  a  long  time  been 
nick-named  '  two-bottle  orthodox ',  as  though  their  greatest 


INTRODUCTION.  xxvii 

religious  zeal  manifested  itself  in  the  drinking  of  port  wine 
to  the  health  of  '  the  Church  and  King '.  The  pompous 
dignitaries  of  great  town  parishes  have  also  been  surnamed 
the  '  high  and  dry  '  school  or  Church. 

It  still  remains  for  us  to  explain  three  words  which  are 
in  opposition  to  each  other  and  which  will  find  their  place 
in  this  book  :  High  Church  ;  Low  Church  ;  Broad  Church. 
The  last  of  these  denominations  offers  no  difficulty  :  the 
word  '  broad '  answers  to  that  of  '  latitudinarian ',  and  by 
Broad  Church  is  understood  the  Liberal  party.  But  the 
denominations  of  High  and  Low  Church  cannot  be  under 
stood  without  explanation. 

The  doctrinal  appellation  of  '  High  Church '  signifies 
the  teaching  which  aims  at  asserting  the  prerogatives  and 
authority  of  the  Church  ;  but  not  so  much  its  invisible 
powers  as  its  privileges  and  gifts  as  a  visible  body  ;  and, 
since  in  the  Anglican  religion  these  temporal  privileges  have 
always  depended  on  the  civil  power,  it  happens  accidentally 
that  a  partisan  of  the  High  Church  is  almost  an  Erastian ; 
that  is  to  say,  a  man  who  denies  the  spiritual  power  per 
taining  to  the  Church  and  maintains  that  the  Church  is 
one  of  the  branches  of  the  civil  government.  Thus,  a 
Calvinist  may  be  a  partisan  of  the  High  Church,  as  was 
Whitgift,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, 
and  as  was  also  Hooker,  the  Master  of  the  Temple,1  at  any 
rate  during  his  youth. 

The  Low  Church  is  obviously  the  opposite  to  the  High 
Church.  If  then  the  High  Church  party  is  the  party  which 
upholds  the  Church  and  the  King,  the  Low  Church  party 
is  the  one  which  anathematises  that  Erastian  doctrine  and 
considers  it  anti-Christian  to  give  the  State  any  power 
whatsoever  over  the  Church  of  God  ;  it  was  thus  that 
formerly  the  Puritans  and  the  Independents  preferred 
Cromwell  to  King  Charles.  To-day,  however,  since  the 
Puritans  have  ceased  to  exist  in  England,  the  denomination 
of  Low  Church  has  ceased  to  represent  an  ecclesiastical  idea, 
and  designates  a  theological  party,  becoming  synonymous 
with  the  Evangelical  party.  In  consequence,  an  analogous 

1  This  title  was  given  to  a  preacher  directed  to  preach  on  certain 
days  in  a  very  curious  little  church  which  formerly  belonged  to  the 
Templars. — Note  by  John  Henry  Newman. 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

change  has  taken  place  in  the  meaning  of  the  name  '  High 
Church'.  Instead  of  denoting  solely  the  partisans  of  the 
'  Church  and  the  King ',  or  the  Erastians,  it  has  come  to 
have  a  theological  signification  and  to  denote  the  semi- 
Catholic  party.  Thus  it  often  happens  in  our  own  days 
that  even  the  Tractarians  are  called  partisans  of  the  High 
Church,  although  they  began  by  denouncing  Erastianism, 
and  although,  in  their  early  days,  they  were  violently 
opposed  at  Oxford  by  the  High  Church  party  or  Established 
Church." 

With  the  above  should  be  read  a  shorter  note,  designed 
for  the  same  readers,  on  the  University  of  Oxford  : 

"  The  University  of  Oxford  has  been  the  intellectual 
centre  of  England  ever  since  the  Middle  Ages.  Six  centuries 
ago  Paris  alone  surpassed  it  as  an  ecclesiastical  school  and 
it  was  the  mother  of  the  great  theologians,  Scotus,  Alexander 
of  Hales,  and  Occam.  Even  in  those  times  it  was  a  kind 
of  representative  of  the  political  parties  of  the  nation.  An 
old  rhymed  couplet  gives  evidence  of  that : 

Chronica  si  penses,  cum  pugnant  Oxonienses 
Post  paucos  menses  volat  ira  per  Angligenenses. 
In  the  centuries  following  the  Reformation,  Oxford  has 
always  been  the  head  quarters  of  the. Tory  or  Conservative 
party,  which  has  been  described  above  as  the  most  con 
siderable  in  the  Established  Church.  It  was  there  that  the 
Protestant  reformers,  Cranmer,  Ridley  and  Latimer,  were 
burnt  alive  in  the  time  of  Queen  Mary  ;  it  was  there  that 
King  Charles  I  found  his  most  steadfast  support  against 
his  Parliament.  It  was  there  that  the  non-jurors  and  other 
supporters  of  the  Stuarts  sought  a  refuge  for  their  opinions 
when  the  House  of  Hanover  had  taken  possession  of  the 
kingdom  ;  and,  while  remaining  eminently  conservative  in 
its  religious  and  political  teaching,  it  has  nevertheless  so 
completely  sustained  the  intellectual  vigour  of  its  first 
ages,  that,  even  in  the  course  of  the  last  century,  it  has  given 
birth  to  each  of  the  three  theological  parties  that  exist 
to-day  in  the  Established  Church,  and  to  which  the  con 
servative  spirit  which  so  specially  characterises  it,  is 
naturally  so  opposed .  The  Evangelical  party  of  to-day  owes 


INTRODUCTION.  xxix 

its  origin  to  Whitfield  and  Wesley,  who,  towards  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  began  their  religious  life  as  Oxford 
students.  Oxford  was  again,  as  this  volume  proves,  the 
sole  mother  and  nurse  of  Tractarianism ;  and  the  Liberalism 
which  to-day  inundates  the  English  intelligent  classes 
sprang  rather  from  Oxford  than  from  any  other  source. 

Let  us  proceed  to  its  academic  constitution.  There,  too, 
Oxford  has  preserved  this  character  of  the  Middle  Ages 
which  nearly  all  the  continental  universities  have  lost. 
It  comprehends  a  certain  number  of  separate  societies  which 
bear  the  distinctive  names  of  colleges  and  halls,  and  each 
of  which  has  its  separate  and  independent  rights  and 
privileges.  Its  position  cannot  be  better  described  than  by 
comparing  it  to  the  political  constitution  of  the  United 
States  of  America.  Just  as  the  different  States  are,  or  have 
hitherto  been,  independent  within  their  proper  limitations 
and  are  nevertheless  included  in  the  dominion  of  the 
republic,  so  each  of  the  Oxford  colleges  is  a  separate 
corporation  legally  and  actually  independent  of  all  the 
others,  although  they  are  all  constituent  parts  of  the  same 
university.  These  colleges  were  in  the  beginning  inns  or 
hostels  intended  for  the  reception  of  students  who  had 
come  from  afar.  Little  by  little  they  took  the  form  of 
separate  societies,  and,  obtaining  the  patronage  of  impor 
tant  people,  whether  ecclesiastics  or  nobles,  they  acquired 
a  legal  existence  (status)  and  were  richly  endowed.  Other 
colleges  have  their  origin  in  the  monasteries  with  which 
the  university  was  abundantly  provided.  To-day  there 
exist  about  twenty  colleges  and  five  halls.  The  difference 
between  a  college  and  a  hall  is  that  the  college  is  a  corpora 
tion  possessing  endowments  and  having  its  own  complete 
administration,  and  that  the  hall  is  not  a  corporation. 
Mention  is  made  in  this  work  of  Oriel  College,  founded  in 
1326  by  King  Edward  II ;  of  Trinity  College,  founded  in 
the  sixteenth  century  on  the  site  of  a  Benedictine  house  ;  of 
Pembroke  College,  whose  origin  is  more  modern  ;  and  of 
Alban  Hall,  the  antiquity  of  which  goes  back  further  than 
that  of  the  two  first.  The  corporate  rights  of  a  college  rest 
with  a  head  and  with  Fellows,  whose  position  answers  to 
that  of  the  Dean  and  Canons  of  a  cathedral.  And  this  head 
is  designated  by  different  titles,  such  as  Provost  of  Oriel, 


XXX 


INTRODUCTION. 


President  of  Trinity,  Master  of  Pembroke,  and  Principal 
of  Alban  Hall.  The  head  of  the  university  itself  is  the 
Chancellor,  who  is  generally  a  great  nobleman,  or  a  con 
siderable  statesman,  elected  to  the  position  by  the  members 
of  the  university.  The  three  most  recent  Chancellors  have 
been  Lord  Grenville,  so  celebrated  in  the  beginning  of  the 
history  of  this  century,  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  Lord 
Derby,  now  the  head  of  the  Conservative  party.  The  acting 
o-overnor  of  the  university  is  the  Vice-Chancellor  who  is 
chosen,  according  to  custom,  from  among  the  heads  of  the 
colleges  in  turn  and  holds  his  office  for  four  years." 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  when  classifying,  in  another 
Appendix  to  the  French  edition,  the  Anglican  writers  named 
in  the  Apologia,  Newman  gives  Rose,  Hook,  and  Perceval,— 
all  of  them  among  the  founders  of  the  Oxford  Movement,— 
as  members,  not  of  the  Anglo-Catholic  party,  but  of  "  the 
party  of  the  High  Church  or  of  the  Established  Church 
considered  separately  from  the  three  theological  parties  ". 
Palmer,  on  the  other  hand,  like  Pusey  and  Keble,  is  classed 
with  the  Anglo-Catholics. 

The  above  notes  are,  of  course,  nearly  half  a  century  old. 
It  would  be  instructive  if  some  student  of  the  fortunes  of  the 
Church  of  England,  as  accurate  as  Newman,  were  to  trace 
the  causes  which  have  made  one  of  Newman's  statements 
so  completely  inapplicable  to  the  present  day,— the  state 
ment  that  the  clergy,  and  especially  the  high  dignitaries, 
are  "  always  distinguished  for  their  Toryism  on  all  English 
questions  ".  The  alliance  of  Bishops  of  the  Established 
Church  with  the  democracy  is,  as  we  are  reminded  by  this 
statement,  a  modern  development,  and  the  important  part 
played  by  the  episcopal  bench  in  passing  the  Parliament 
Bill  would  probably  have  suggested  some  interesting 
reflections  to  Newman  could  he  have  foreseen  it. 

WILFRID  WARD. 


THE  differences  between  the  text  of  the  Apologia  pro  Vita  sua  of 
1864  and  the  History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  of  1865,  so  far  as  the 
two  books  overlap,  are  shown  in  pp.  87-477  of  this  edition,  in  the 
following  way : 

Words  or  passages  of  the  1864  book  which  were  cancelled  in  1865 
are  enclosed  in  square  brackets  [  ]. 

Words  or  passages  first  inserted  in  the  1865  book  are  enclosed  in 
angular  brackets  (). 

Words  or  passages  of  the  1864  book,  not  simply  deleted,  but 
replaced  by  other  words  in  1865,  are  left  untouched  in  the  text, 
but  the  alteration  is  shown  in  a  footnote,  preceded  by  the  number 
of  the  line  where  the  difference  occurs,  the  1864  version  being 
given  first,  followed  by  the  1865,  thus  (on  p.  264) : 

24  made  to  eat]  forced  to  recognize 

The  1864  text  can  therefore  be  constructed  by  omitting  all  words 
enclosed  in  (  ),  by  including  all  words  in  [  ],  and  by  ignoring  the 
footnotes. 

The  1865  text  can  be  constructed  by  omitting  all  words  enclosed 
in  [  ],  by  including  all  words  in  (  },  and  by  reference  to  the  footnotes. 
A  few  differences  between  two  copies  of  the  1864  book  (one 
probably,  though  not  ascertainably,  representing  the  original 
pamphlets,  and  the  other  the  pamphlets  revised  for  reissue  in 
book-form)  are  also  shown  in  the  footnotes ;  and  by  the  courtesy 
of  the  Newman  Trustees,  and  of  Messrs.  Longmans,  Green  &  Co., 
some  other  interesting  variations,  subsequent  to  1870,  are  given. 


[Reduced  Facsimile  of  the  original  Title-page.] 

MB.  KINGSLEY  AND  DB.  NEWMAN: 


CORRESPONDENCE 


WHETHER  DR.  NEWMAN  TEACHES  THAT 
TRUTH  IS  NO  VIRTUE? 


LONDON: 
LONGMAN,  GREEN,  LONGMAN,  ROBERTS,  AND  GREEN. 

Price  One  SMWmy. 


ADVERTISEMENT 

To  prevent  misconception,  I  think  it  necessary  to  observe, 
that,  in  my  Letters  here  published,  I  am  far  indeed  from 
implying  any  admission  of  the  truth  of  Mr.  Kingsley's 
accusations  against  the  Catholic  Church,  although  I  have 
abstained  from  making  any  formal  protest  against  them. 
The  object  which  led  to  my  writing  at  all,  has  also  led  me, 
in  writing,  to  turn  my  thoughts  in  a  different  direction. 

J.  H.  N. 

January  31,  1864* 


A 

CORRESPONDENCE, 


I. 

Extract  from  a  Review  of  Fronde's  History  of  England, 
vols.  vii.  and  viii.,  in  Macmillan's  Magazine  for  January, 
1864,  signed  "  C.  K." 

PAGES  216,  217. 

"  THE  Roman  religion  had,  for  some  time  past,  been  making 
men  not  better  men,  but  worse.  We  must  face,  we  must 
conceive  honestly  for  ourselves,  the  deep  demoralization 
which  had  been  brought  on  in  Europe  by  the  dogma  that 
the  Pope  of  Rome  had  the  power  of  creating  right  and 
wrong  ;  that  not  only  truth  and  falsehood,  but  morality 
and  immorality,  depended  on  his  setting  his  seal  to  a  bit 
of  parchment.  From  the  time  that  indulgences  were 
hawked  about  in  his  name,  which  would  insure  pardon 
for  any  man,  '  etsi  matrem  Dei  violavisset,'  the  world  in 
general  began  to  be  of  that  opinion.  But  the  mischief  was 
older  and  deeper  than  those  indulgences.  It  lay  in  the  very 
notion  of  the  dispensing  power.  A  deed  might  be  a  crime, 
or  no  crime  at  all  —  like  Henry  the  Eighth's  marriage  of 
his  brother's  widow  —  according  to  the  will  of  the  Pope. 
If  it  suited  the  interest  or  caprice  of  the  old  man  of  Rome 
not  to  say  the  word,  the  doer  of  a  certain  deed  would  be 
burned  alive  in  hell  for  ever.  If  it  suited  him,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  say  it,  the  doer  of  the  same  deed  would  go,  sacra- 
mentis  munitus,  to  endless  bliss.  What  rule  of  morality, 
what  eternal  law  of  right  and  wrong,  could  remain  in  the 


6  MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

hearts  of  men  bom  and  bred  under  the  shadow  of  so 
hideous  a  deception  ? 

"  And  the  shadow  did  not  pass  at  once,  when  the  Pope's 
authority  was  thrown  off.  Henry  VIII.  evidently  thought 
that  if  the  Pope  could  make  right  and  wrong,  perhaps  he 
could  do  so  likewise.  Elizabeth  seems  to  have  fancied,  at 
one  weak  moment,  that  the  Pope  had  the  power  of  making 
her  marriage  with  Leicester  right,  instead  of  wrong. 

"  Moreover,  when  the  moral  canon  of  the  Pope's  will  was 
gone,  there  was  for  a  while  no  canon  of  morality  left.  The 
average  morality  of  Elizabeth's  reign  was  not  so  much  low, 
as  capricious,  self-willed,  fortuitous  ;  magnificent  one  day 
in  virtue,  terrible  the  next  in  vice.  It  was  not  till  more 
than  one  generation  had  grown  up  and  died  with  the  Bible 
in  their  hands,  that  Englishmen  and  Germans  began  to 
understand  (what  Frenchmen  and  Italians  did  not  under 
stand)  that  they  were  to  be  judged  by  the  everlasting  laws 
of  a  God  who  was  no  respecter  cf  persons. 

"  So,  again,  of  the  virtue  of  truth.  Truth,  for  its  own 
sake,  had  never  been  a  virtue  with  the  Roman  clergy. 
Father  Newman  informs  us  that  it  need  not,  and  on  the 
whole  ought  not  to  be  ;  that  cunning  is  the  weapon  which 
Heaven  has  given  to  the  saints  wherewith  to  withstand  the 
brute  male  force  of  the  wicked  world  which  marries  and 
is  given  in  marriage.  Whether  his  notion  be  doctrinally 
correct  or  not,  it  is  at  least  historically  so. 

"  Ever  since  Pope  Stephen  forged  an  epistle  from 
St.  Peter  to  Pepin,  King  of  the  Franks,  and  sent  it  with 
some  filings  of  the  saint's  holy  chains,  that  he  might  bribe 
him  to  invade  Italy,  destroy  the  Lombards,  and  confirm 
to  him  the  '  Patrimony  of  St.  Peter  ;  '  ever  since  the  first 
monk  forged  the  first  charter  of  his  monastery,  or  dug  the 
first  heathen  Anglo-Saxon  out  of  his  barrow,  to  make  him 
a  martyr  and  a  worker  of  miracles,  because  his  own  minster 
did  not  '  draw  '  as  well  as  the  rival  minster  ten  miles  off  ; — 
ever  since  this  had  the  heap  of  lies  been  accumulating, 
spawning,  breeding  fresh  lies,  till  men  began  to  ask  them 
selves  whether  truth  was  a  thing  worth  troubling  a  practical 
man's  head  about,  and  to  suspect  that  tongues  were  given 
to  men,  as  claws  to  cats  and  horns  to  bulls,  simply  for 
purposes  of  offence  and  defence." 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  7 

II. 

DR.  NEWMAN  to  MESSRS.  MACMILLAN  and  Co. 

The  Oratory,  Dec.  30,  1863. 

GENTLEMEN, 

I  do  not  write  to  you  with  any  controversial 
purpose,  which  would  be  preposterous  ;  but  I  address  you 
simply  because  of  your  special  interest  in  a  Magazine  which 
bears  your  name. 

That  highly  respected  name  you  have  associated  with 
a  Magazine,  of  which  the  January  number  has  been  sent 
to  me  by  this  morning's  post,  with  a  pencil  mark  calling 
my  attention  to  page  217. 

There,  apropos  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  I  read  as  follows  : — 

"  Truth,  for  its  own  sake,  had  never  been  a  virtue  with 
the  Roman  clergy.  Father  Newman  informs  us  that  it 
need  not,  and  on  the  whole  ought  not  to  be  ;  that  cunning 
is  the  weapon  which  Heaven  has  given  to  the  saints  where 
with  to  withstand  the  brute  male  force  of  the  wicked 
world  which  marries  and  is  given  in  marriage.  Whether 
his  notion  be  doctrinally  correct  or  not,  it  is  at  least 
historically  so-." 

There  is  no  reference  at  the  foot  of  the  page  to  any 
words  of  mine,  much  less  any  quotation  from  my  writings, 
in  justification  of  this  statement. 

I  should  not  dream  of  expostulating  with  the  writer  of 
such  a  passage,  nor  with  the  editor  who  could  insert  it 
without  appending  evidence  in  proof  of  its  allegations. 
Nor  do  I  want  any  reparation  from  either  of  them.  I  neither 
complain  of  them  for  their  act,  nor  should  I  thank  them  if 
they  reversed  it.  Nor  do  I  even  write  to  you  with  any  desire 
of  troubling  you  to  send  me  an  answer.  I  do  but  wish  to 
draw  the  attention  of  yourselves,  as  gentlemen,  to  a  grave 
and  gratuitous  slander,  with  which  I  feel  confident  you 
will  be  sorry  to  find  associated  a  name  so  eminent  as  yours. 

I  am,  Gentlemen, 

Your  obedient  Servant, 
(Signed)  JOHN  H.  NEWMAN. 


8  MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

III. 
The  REV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY  to  DR.  NEWMAN. 

Eversley  Rectory,  January  6,  1864. 

REVEREND  SIR, 

I  have  seen  a  letter  of  yours  to  Mr.  Maemillan, 
in  which  you  complain  of  some  expressions  of  mine  in  an 
article  in  the  January  number  of  Macmillan's  Magazine. 

That  my  words  were  just,  I  believed  from  many  passages 
of  your  writings  ;  but  the  document  to  which  I  expressly 
referred  was  one  of  your  Sermons  on  "  Subjects  of  the 
Day,"  No.  XX.,  in  the  volume  published  in  1844,  and 
entitled  "  Wisdom  and  Innocence." 

It  was  in  consequence  of  that  Sermon,  that  I  finally 
shook  off  the  strong  influence  which  your  writings  exerted 
on  me  ;  and  for  much  of  which  I  still  owe  you  a  deep  debt 
of  gratitude. 

I  am  most  happy  to  hear  from  you  that  I  mistook  (as 

I  understand  from  your  letter)  your  meaning  ;   and  I  shall 

be  most  happy,  on  your  showing  me  that  I  have  wronged 

you,  to  retract  my  accusation  as  publicly  as  I  have  made  it. 

I  am,  Reverend  Sir, 

Your  faithful  Servant, 
(Signed)  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 

IV. 

DR.  NEWMAN  to  the  REV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 

The  Oratory,  Birmingham. 
January  7,  1864. 

REVEREND  SIR, 

I  have  to  acknowledge  your  letter  of  the  6tb, 
informing  me  that  you  are  the  writer  of  an  article  in 
Macmillan's  Magazine,  in  which  I  am  mentioned,  and 
referring  generally  to  a  Protestant  sermon  of  mine,  of 
seventeen  pages,  published  by  me,  as  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's, 
in  1844,  and  treating  of  the  bearing  of  the  Christian  towards 
the  world,  and  of  the  character  of  the  reaction  of  that 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  0 

bearing  upon  him  ;  and  also,  referring  to  my  works  passim  ; 
in  justification  of  your  statement,  categorical  and  definite, 
that  "  Father  Newman  informs  us  that  truth  for  its  own 
sake  need  not,  and  on  the  whole  ought  not  to  be,  a  virtue 
with  the  Roman  clergy/ 

I  have  only  to  remark,  in  addition  to  what  I  have  already 
said  with  great  sincerity  to  Messrs.  Macmillan  and  Co.,  in 
the  letter  of  which  you  speak,  and  to  which  I  refer  you, 
that,  when  I  wrote  to  them,  no  person  whatever,  whom 
I  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of,  had  occurred  to  me  as  the 
author  of  the  statement  in  question.  When  I  received  your 
letter,  taking  upon  yourself  the  authorship,  I  was  amazed. 
I  am,  Reverend  Sir, 

Your  obedient  Servant, 
(Signed)  JOHN  H.  NEWMAN. 


V. 

0 

DR.  NEWMAN  to  X.  Y.,  EsQ.1 

The  Oratory,  January  8,  1864. 
DEAR  SIR, 

I  thank  you  for  the  friendly  tone  of  your  letter 
of  the  5th  just  received,  and  I  wish  to  reply  to  it  with  the 
frankness  which  it  invites.  I  have  heard  from  Mr.  Kingsley, 
avowing  himself,  to  my  extreme  astonishment,  the  author 
of  the  passage  about  which  I  wrote  to  Messrs.  Macmillan. 
No  one,  whose  name  I  had  ever  heard,  crossed  my  mind 
as  the  writer  in  their  Magazine  :  and,  had  any  one  said 
that  it  was  Mr.  Kingsley,  I  should  have  laughed  in  his 
face.  Certainly,  I  saw  the  initials  at  the  end ;  but,  you 
must  recollect,  I  live  out  of  the  world  ;  and,  I  must  own, 
if  Messrs.  Macmillan  will  not  think  the  confession  rude, 
that,  as  far  as  I  remember,  I  never  before  saw  even  the  out 
side  of  their  Magazine.  And  so  of  the  Editor  :  when  I  saw 
his  name  on  the  cover,  it  conveyed  to  me  absolutely  no 
idea  whatever.  I  am  not  defending  myself,  but  merely 
stating  what  was  the  fact ;  and  as  to  the  article,  I  said  to 

1  A  gentleman  who  interposed  between  Mr.  Kingsley  and  Dr.  Newman. 

B3 


10  MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

myself,  "  Here  is  a  young  scribe,  who  is  making  himself 
a  cheap  reputation  by  smart  hits  at  safe  objects." 

All  this  will  make  you  see,  not  only  how  I  live  out  of 
the  world,  but  also  how  wanton  I  feel  it  to  have  been  in  the 
parties  concerned  thus  to  let  fly  at  me.  Were  I  in  active 
controversy  with  the  Anglican  body,  or  any  portion  of  it, 
as  I  have  been  before  now,  I  should  consider  untrue  asser 
tions  about  me  to  be  in  a  certain  sense  a  rule  of  the  game, 
as  times  go,  though  God  forbid  that  I  should  indulge  in 
them  myself  in  the  case  of  another.  I  have  never  been  very 
sensitive  of  such  attacks  ;  rarely  taken  notice  of  them. 
Now,  when  I  have  long  ceased  from  controversy,  they 
continue  :  they  have  lasted  incessantly  from  the  year  1833 
to  this  day.  They  do  not  ordinarily  come  in  my  way  : 
when  they  do,  I  let  them  pass  through  indolence.  Some 
times  friends  send  me  specimens  of  them  ;  and  sometimes 
they  are  such  as  I  am  bound  to  answer,  if  I  would  not 
compromise  interests  which  are  dearer  to  me  than  life. 
The  January  number  of  the  Magazine  was  sent  to  me, 
I  know  not  by  whom,  friend  or  foe,  with  the  passage  on 
which  I  have  animadverted,  emphatically,  not  to  say 
indignantly,  scored  against.  Nor  can  there  be  a  better 
proof  that  there  was  a  call  upon  me  to  notice  it,  than  the 
astounding  fact  that  you  can  so  calmly  (excuse  me)  "  con 
fess  plainly  "  of  yourself,  as  you  do,  "  that  you  had  read 
the  passage,  and  did  not  even  think  that  I  or  any  of  my 
communion  would  think  it  unjust." 

Most  wonderful  phenomenon !  An  educated  man, 
breathing  English  air,  and  walking  in  the  light  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  thinks  that  neither  I  nor  any  members 
of  my  communion  feel  any  difficulty  in  allowing  that 
"  Truth  for  its  own  sake  need  not,  and  on  the  whole  ought 
not  to  be,  a  virtue  with  the  Roman  clergy  ;  "  nay,  that  they 
are  not  at  all  surprised  to  be  told  that  "  Father  Newman 
had  informed  "  the  world,  that  such  is  the  standard  of 
morality  acknowledged,  acquiesced  in,  by  his  co-religionists  ! 
But,  I  suppose,  in  truth,  there  is  nothing  at  all,  however 
base,  up  to  the  high  mark  of  Titus  Gates,  which  a  Catholic 
may  not  expect  to  be  believed  of  him  by  Protestants, 
however  honourable  and  hard-headed.  However,  dis 
missing  this  natural  train  of  thought,  I  observe  on  your 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  11 

avowal  as  follows  ;    and  I  think  what  I  shall  say  will 
commend  itself  to  your  judgment  as  soon  as  I  say  it. 

I  think  you  will  allow  then,  that  there  is  a  broad  difference 
between  a  virtue,  considered  in  itself  as  a  principle  or  rule, 
and  the  application  or  limits  of  it  in  human  conduct. 
Catholics  and  Protestants,  in  their  view  of  the  substance 
of  the  moral  virtues,  agree,  but  they  carry  them  out 
variously  in  detail ;  and  in  particular  instances,  and  in  the 
case  of  particular  actors  or  writers,  with  but  indifferent 
success.  Truth  is  the  same  in  itself  and  in  substance  to 
Catholic  and  Protestant ;  so  is  purity  :  both  virtues  are  to 
be  referred  to  that  moral  sense  which  is  the  natural  posses 
sion  of  us  all.  But  when  we  come  to  the  question  in  detail, 
whether  this  or  that  act  in  particular  is  conformable  to 
the  rule  of  truth,  or  again  to  the  rule  of  purity ;  then 
sometimes  there  is  a  difference  of  opinion  between  indivi 
duals,  sometimes  between  schools,  and  sometimes  between 
religious  communions.  I,  on  my  side,  have  long  thought, 
even  before  I  was  a  Catholic,  that  the  Protestant  system,  as 
such,  leads  to  a  lax  observance  of  the  rule  of  purity ; 
Protestants  think  that  the  Catholic  system,  as  such,  leads 
to  a  lax  observance  of  the  rule  of  truth.  I  am  very  sorry 
that  they  should  think  so,  but  I  cannot  help  it ;  I  lament 
their  mistake,  but  I  bear  it  as  I  may.  If  Mr.  Kingsley  had 
said  no  more  than  this,  I  should  not  have  felt  it  necessary 
to  criticize  such  an  ordinary  remark.  But,  as  I  should  be 
committing  a  crime,  heaping  dirt  upon  my  soul,  and  storing 
up  for  myself  remorse  and  confusion  of  face  at  a  future 
day,  if  I  applied  my  abstract  belief  of  the  latent  sensuality 
of  Protestantism,  on  a  priori  reasoning,  to  individuals,  to 
living  persons,  to  authors  and  men  of  name,  and  said  (not 
to  make  disrespectful  allusion  to  the  living)  that  Bishop 
Van  Mildert,  or  the  Rev.  Dr.  Spry,  or  Dean  Milner,  or  the 
Rev.  Charles  Simeon  "  informs  us  that  chastity  for  its  own 
sake  need  not  be,  and  on  the  whole  ought  not  to  be,  a  virtue 
with  the  Anglican  clergy,"  and  then,  when  challenged  for 
the  proof,  said,  "  Vide  Van  Mildert's  Bampton  Lectures 
and  Simeon's  Skeleton  Sermons  passim  ;  "  and,  as  I  should 
only  make  the  matter  still  worse,  if  I  pointed  to  flagrant 
instances  of  paradoxical  divines  or  of  bad  clergymen  among 
Protestants,  as,  for  instance,  to  that  popular  London 


12  MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

preacher  at  the  end  of  last  century  who  advocated  polygamy 
in  print ;  so,  in  like  manner,  for  a  writer,  when  he  is 
criticizing  definite  historical  facts  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
which  stand  or  fall  on  their  own  merits,  to  go  out  of  his  way 
to  have  a  fling  at  an  unpopular  name,  living  but  "  down," 
and  boldly  to  say  to  those  who  know  no  better,  who  know 
nothing  but  what  he  tells  them,  who  take  their  tradition 
of  historical  facts  from  him,  who  do  not  know  me, — to  say 
of  me,  "  Father  Newman  informs  us  that  Truth  for  its  own 
sake  need  not  be,  and  on  the  whole  ought  not  to  be,  a  virtue 
with  the  Roman  clergy,"  and  to  be  thus  brilliant  and 
antithetical  (save  the  mark  !)  in  the  very  cause  of  Truth, 
is  a  proceeding  of  so  special  a  character  as  to  lead  me  to 
exclaim,  after  the  pattern  of  the  celebrated  saying,  "  0 
Truth,  how  many  lies  are  told  in  thy  name  !  " 

Such  being  the  state  of  the  case,  I  think  I  shall  carry 
you  along  with  me  when  I  say,  that,  if  there  is  to  be  any 
explanation  in  the  Magazine  of  so  grave  an  inadvertence, 
it  concerns  the  two  gentlemen  who  are  responsible  for  it, 
of  what  complexion  that  explanation  shall  be.  For  me, 
it  is  not  I  who  ask  for  it ;  I  look  on  mainly  as  a  spectator, 
and  shall  praise  or  blame,  according  to  my  best  judgment, 
as  I  see  what  they  do.  Not  that,  in  so  acting,  I  am  implying 
a  doubt  of  all  that  you  tell  me  of  them  ;  but  "  handsome  is, 
that  handsome  does."  If  they  set  about  proving  their 
point,  or,  should  they  find  that  impossible,  if  they  say  so, 
in  either  case  I  shall  call  them  men.  But, — bear  with  me 
for  harbouring  a  suspicion  which  Mr.  Kingsley's  letter  to 
me  has  inspired, — if  they  propose  merely  to  smooth  the 
matter  over  by  publishing  to  the  world  that  I  have  "  com 
plained,"  or  that  "  they  yield  to  my  letters,  expostulations, 
representations,  explanations,"  or  that  "  they  are  quite 
ready  to  be  convinced  of  their  mistake,  if  I  will  convince 
them,"  or  that  "  they  have  profound  respect  for  me,  but 
really  they  are  not  the  only  persons  who  have  gathered 
from  my  writings  what  they  have  said  of  me,"  or  that 
"  they  are  unfeignedly  surprised  that  I  should  visit  in 
their  case  what  I  have  passed  over  in  the  case  of  others/' 
or  that  "  they  have  ever  had  a  true  sense  of  my  good  points, 
but  cannot  be  expected  to  be  blind  to  my  faults,"  if  this 
be  the  sum  total  of  what  they  are  to  say,  and  they  ignore 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  13 

the  fact  that  the  onus  probandi  of  a  very  definite  accusation 
lies  upon  them,  and  that  they  have  no  right  to  throw  the 
burden  upon  others,  then,  I  say  with  submission,  they  had 
better  let  it  all  alone,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  for  a  half- 
measure  settles  nothing. 

January  10. — I  will  add,  that  any  letter  addressed  to 
me  by  Mr.  Kingsley,  I  account  public  property ;  not  so, 
should  you  favour  me  with  any  fresh  communication 
yourself. 

I  am,  Dear  Sir, 

Yours  faithfully, 
(Signed)  JOHN  H.  NEWMAN. 


VI. 

The  REV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY  to  DR.  NEWMAN. 

Everslcy  Rectory,  January  14,  1864. 

REVEREND  SIR, 

I  have  the  honour  to  acknowledge  your  answer  to 
my  letter. 

I  have  also  seen  your  letter  to  Mr.  X.  Y.  On  neither  of 
them  shall  I  make  any  comment,  save  to  say,  that,  if  you 
fancy  that  I  have  attacked  you  because  you  were,  as  you 
please  to  term  it,  "  down,"  you  do  me  a  great  injustice  ; 
and  also,  that  the  suspicion  expressed  in  the  latter  part  of 
your  letter  to  Mr.  X.  Y.,  is  needless. 

The  course,  which  you  demand  of  me,  is  the  only  course 
fit  for  a  gentleman  ;  and,  as  the  tone  of  your  letters  (even 
more  than  their  language)  make  me  feel,  to  my  very  deep 
pleasure,  that  my  opinion  of  the  meaning  of  your  words 
was  a  mistaken  one,  I  shall  send  at  once  to  Macmillan's 
Magazine  the  few  lines  which  I  inclose. 

You  say,  that  you  will  consider  my  letters  as  public. 
You  have  every  right  to  do  so. 

I  remain,  Reverend  Sir, 

Yours  faithfully, 
(Signed)  C.  KINGSLEY. 


14  MR,  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

VII. 

[This  will  appear  in  the  next  number.] 
"  To  THE  EDITOR  OF  MACMILLAN'S  MAGAZINE. 

"  SIR, 

"  In  your  last  number  I  made  certain  allega 
tions  against  the  teaching  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Newman,  which 
were  founded  on  a  Sermon  of  his,  entitled  *  Wisdom  and 
Innocence,'  (the  sermon  will  be  fully  described,  as  to  l  .  .  .) 

"  Dr.  Newman  has,  by  letter,  expressed  in  the  strongest 
terms,  his  denial  of  the  meaning  which  I  have  put  upon 
his  words. 

"  No  man  knows  the  use  of  words  better  than  Dr.  New 
man  ;  no  man,  therefore,  has  a  better  right  to  define  what 
he  does,  or  does  not,  mean  by  them. 

"  It  only  remains,  therefore,  for  me  to  express  my  hearty 
regret  at  having  so  seriously  mistaken  him  ;  and  my 
hearty  pleasure  at  finding  him  on  the  side  of  Truth,  in  this, 
or  any  other,  matter. 

(Signed)  CHARLES  KINGSLEY." 

VIII. 

DR.  NEWMAN  to  the  REV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 

The  Oratory,  January  17,  1864. 

REVEREND  SIR, 

Since  you  do  no  more  than  announce  to  me  your 
intention  of  inserting  in  Macmillan's  Magazine  the  letter, 
a  copy  of  which  you  are  so  good  as  to  transcribe  for  me, 
perhaps  I  am  taking  a  liberty  in  making  any  remarks  to 
you  upon  it.  But  then,  the  very  fact  of  your  showing  it  to 
me  seems  to  invite  criticism  ;  and  so  sincerely  do  I  wish  to 
bring  this  painful  matter  to  an  immediate  settlement,  that, 
at  the  risk  of  being  officious,  I  avail  myself  of  your  courtesy 
to  express  the  judgment  which  I  have  carefully  formed 
upon  it. 

1  Here  follows  a  word  or  half-word,  which  neither  I  nor  any  one  else 
to  whom  I  have  shown  the  MS.  can  decypher.  I  have  at  p.  15  filled  in 
for  Mr.  Kingsley  what  I  understood  him  to  mean  by  "  fully." — J.  H.  N. 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  15 

I  believe  it  to  be  your  wish  to  do  me  such  justice  as  is 
compatible  with  your  duty  of  upholding  the  consistency 
and  quasi-infallibility  which  is  necessary  for  a  periodical 
publication  ;  and  I  am  far  from  expecting  any  thing  from 
you  which  would  be  unfair  to  Messrs.  Macmillan  and  Co. 
Moreover,  I  am  quite  aware,  that  the  reading  public,  to 
whom  your  letter  is  virtually  addressed,  cares  little  for 
the  wording  of  an  explanation,  provided  it  be  made  aware 
of  the  fact  that  an  explanation  has  been  given. 

Nevertheless,  after  giving  your  letter  the  benefit  of  both 
these  considerations,  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  feel  it  my  duty 
to  withhold  from  it  the  approbation  which  I  fain  would 
bestow. 

Its  main  fault  is,  that,  quite  contrary  to  your  intention, 
it  will  be  understood  by  the  general  reader  to  intimate, 
that  I  have  been  confronted  with  definite  extracts  from  my 
works,  and  have  laid  before  you  my  own  interpretations 
of  them.  Such  a  proceeding  I  have  indeed  challenged,  but 
have  not  been  so  fortunate  as  to  bring  about. 

But  besides,  I  gravely  disapprove  of  the  letter  as  a  whole. 
The  grounds  of  this  dissatisfaction  will  be  best  understood 
by  you,  if  I  place  in  parallel  columns  its  paragraphs,  one 
by  one,  and  what  I  conceive  will  be  the  popular  reading 
of  them. 

This  I  proceed  to  do. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
Reverend  Sir, 

Your  obedient  Servant, 
(Signed)  JOHN  H.  NEWMAN. 


Mr.  Kingsley's  Letter.  Unjust,  but  too  probable,  popu 

lar  rendering  of  it. 
1.  Sir, — In  your  last  num 
ber  I  made  certain  allegations 
against  the  teaching  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Newman,  which  were 
founded  on  a  Sermon  of  his, 
entitled  "Wisdom  and  Inno 
cence,"  preached  by  him  as  Vicar 
of  St.  Mary's,  and  published 
in  1844. 


16 


MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 


2.  Dr.  Newman  has,  by  letter, 
expressed  in  the  strongest  terms 
his  denial  of  the  meaning  which 
I  have  put  upon  his  words. 


3.  No  man  knows  the  use  of 
words  better  than  Dr.  Newman  ; 
no  man,  therefore,  has  a  better 
right  to  define  what  he  does,  or 
does  not,  mean  by  them. 


4.  It  only  remains,  therefore, 
for  me  to  express  my  hearty 
regret  at  having  so  seriously 
mistaken  him,  and  my  hearty 
pleasure  at  finding  him  on  the 
side  of  truth,  in  this  or  any  other 
matter. 


2.  I  have  set  before  Dr.  New 
man,  as  he  challenged  me  to  do, 
extracts  from  his  writings,  and 
he  has  affixed  to  them  what  he 
conceives  to  be  their  legitimate 
sense,  to  the  denial  of  that  in 
which  I  understood  them. 

3.  He  has  done  this  with  the 
skill  of  a  great  master  of  verbal 
fence,  who  knows,  as  well  as  any 
man   living,   how   to   insinuate 
a  doctrine  without  committing 
himself  to  it. 

4.  However,  while  I  heartily 
regret  that  I  have  so  seriously 
mistaken   the   sense   which   he 
assures  me  his  words  were  meant 
to  bear,  I  cannot  but  feel  a  hearty 
pleasure  also,  at  having  brought 
him,  for  once  in  a  way,  to  confess 
that  after  all  truth  is  a  Christian 
virtue. 


IX. 

REV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY  to  DR.  NEWMAN. 

Eversley  Rectory,  January  18,  1864. 

REVEREND  SIR, 

I  do  not  think  it  probable  that  the  good  sense 
and  honesty  of  the  British  Public  will  misinterpret  my 
apology,  in  the  way  in  which  you  expect. 

Two  passages  in  it,  which  I  put  in  in  good  faith  and 
good  feeling,  may,  however,  be  open  to  such  a  bad  use,  and 
I  have  written  to  Messrs.  Macmillan  to  omit  them  ;  viz.  the 
words,  "  No  man  knows  the  use  of  words  better  than 
Dr.  Newman  ;  "  and  those,  "  My  hearty  pleasure  at  finding 
him  in  the  truth  (sic]  on  this  or  any  other  matter." 

As  to  your  Art.  2,  it  seems  to  me,  that,  by  referring 
publicly  to  the  Sermon  on  which  my  allegations  are  founded, 
I  have  given,  not  only  you,  but  every  one  an  opportunity 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  17 

of  judging  of  their  injustice.  Having  done  this,  and  having 
frankly  accepted  your  assertion  that  I  was  mistaken,  I  have 
done  as  much  as  one  English  gentleman  can  expect  from 
another. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
Reverend  Sir, 

Your  obedient  Servant, 
(Signed)  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 


X. 

DR.  NEWMAN  to  MESSRS.  MACMILLAN  &  Co. 

The  Oratory,  January  22,  1864. 

GENTLEMEN, 

Mr.  Kingsley,  the  writer  of  the  paragraph  to 
which  I  called  your  attention  on  the  30th  of  last  month, 
has  shown  his  wish  to  recall  words,  which  I  considered 
a  great  affront  to  myself,  and  a  worse  insult  to  the  Catholic 
priesthood.  He  has  sent  me  the  draft  of  a  Letter  which 
he  proposes  to  insert  in  the  February  number  of  your 
Magazine  ;  and,  when  I  gave  him  my  criticisms  upon  it, 
he  had  the  good  feeling  to  withdraw  two  of  its  paragraphs. 

However,  he  did  not  remove  that  portion  of  it,  to  which, 
as  I  told  him,  lay  my  main  objection. 

That  portion  ran  as  follows  : — 

"  Dr.  Newman  has. by  letter  expressed  in  the  strongest 
terms  his  denial  of  the  meaning  which  I  have  put  upon 
his  words." 

My  objection  to  this  sentence,  which  (with  the  addition 
of  a  reference  to  a  Protestant  sermon  of  mine,  which  he 
says  formed  the  ground  of  his  assertion,  and  of  an  expression 
of  regret  at  having  mistaken  me)  constitutes,  after  the 
withdrawal  of  the  two  paragraphs,  the  whole  of  his  proposed 
letter,  I  thus  explained  to  him  : — 

"  Its  [the  proposed  letter's]  main  fault  is,  that,  quite 
contrary  to  your  intention,  it  will  be  understood  by  the 
general  reader  to  intimate,  that  I  have  been  confronted 
with  definite  extracts  from  my  works,  and  have  laid  before 
you  my  own  interpretation  of  them.  Such  a  proceeding 


18  MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

I  have  indeed  challenged,  but  have  not  been  so  fortunate 
as  to  bring  about." 

In  answer  to  this  representation,  Mr.  Kingsley  wrote  to 
me  as  follows  : — 

"  It  seems  to  me,  that,  by  referring  publicly  to  the 
sermon,  on  which  my  allegations  are  founded,  I  have 
given,  not  only  you,  but  every  one,  an  opportunity  of  judg 
ing  of  their  injustice.  Having  done  this,  and  having  frankly 
accepted  your  assertion  that  I  was  mistaken,  I  have  done 
as  much  as  one  English  gentleman  can  expect  from  another.' 

I  received  this  reply  the  day  before  yesterday.  It  disap 
pointed  me,  for  I  had  hoped  that,  with  the  insertion  of 
a  letter  from  him  in  your  Magazine  for  February,  there 
would  have  been  an  end  of  the  whole  matter.  However, 
I  have  waited  forty-eight  hours,  to  give  time  for  his  explana 
tion  to  make  its  full,  and  therefore  its  legitimate  impression 
on  my  mind.  After  this  interval,  I  find  my  judgment  of 
the  passage  just  what  it  was. 

Moreover,  since  sending  to  Mr.  Kingsley  that  judgment, 
I  have  received  a  letter  from  a  friend  at  a  distance,  whom 
I  had  consulted,  a  man  about  my  own  age,  who  lives  out 
of  the  world  of  theological  controversy  and  contemporary 
literature,  and  whose  intellectual  habits  especially  qualify 
him  for  taking  a  clear  and  impartial  view  of  the  force  of 
words.  I  put  before  him  the  passage  in  your  January 
number,  and  the  writer's  proposed  letter  in  February  l ; 
and  I  asked  him  whether  I  might  consider  the  letter 
sufficient  for  its  purpose,  without  saying  a  word  to  show 
him  the  leaning  of  my  own  mind.  He  answers  : 

"  In  answer  to  your  question,  whether  Mr.  Kingsley's 
proposed  reparation  is  sufficient,  I  have  no  hesitation  in 
saying,  Most  decidedly  not.  Without  attempting  to  quote 
any  passage  from  your  writings  which  justifies  in  any 
manner  the  language  which  he  has  used  in  his  review,  he 
leaves  it  to  be  inferred  that  the  representation,  which  he  has 
given  of  your  statements  and  teaching  in  the  sermon  to 
which  he  refers,  is  the  fair  and  natural  and  primary  sense 
of  them,  and  that  it  is  only  by  your  declaring  that  you  did 
not  mean  what  you  really  and  in  effect  said,  that  he  finds 
that  he  had  made  a  false  charge." 

1  Viz.  as  it  is  given  above,  p.  14. — J.  H.  N. 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  19 

This  opinion  thus  given  came  to  me,  I  repeat,  after 
I  had  sent  to  Mr.  Kingsley  the  letter  of  objection,  of  which 
I  have  quoted  a  portion  above.  You  will  see  that,  though 
the  two  judgments  are  independent  of  each  other,  they  in 
substance  coincide. 

It  only  remains  for  me  then  to  write  to  you  again  ;  and, 
in  writing  to  you  now,  I  do  no  more  than  I  did  on  the 
30th  of  December.  I  bring  the  matter  before  you,  without 
requiring  from  you  any  reply. 

I  am,  Gentlemen, 

Your  obedient  Servant, 
(Signed)  JOHN  H.  NEWMAN. 

XI. 

Letter  of  Explanation  from  Mr.  KINGSLEY,  as  it  stands  in 
Macmillan's  Magazine  for  February,  1864,  p.  368. 

TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  MACMILLAN'S  MAGAZINE. 

SIR, 

In  your  last  number  I  made  certain  allegations 
against  the  teaching  of  Dr.  John  Henry  Newman,  which 
I  thought  were  justified  by  a  Sermon  of  his,  entitled 
"  Wisdom  and  Innocence "  (Sermon  20  of  "  Sermons 
bearing  on  Subjects  of  the  Day  ").  Dr.  Newman  has  by 
letter  expressed,  in  the  strongest  terms,  his  denial  of  the 
meaning  which  I  have  put  upon  his  words.  It  only  remains, 
therefore,  for  me  to  express  my  hearty  regret  at  having 
so  seriously  mistaken  him. 

Yours  faithfully, 
(Signed)  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 

Eversley,  January  14.  1864. 

XII. 

Reflections  on  the  above. 

I  shall  attempt  a  brief  analysis  of  the  foregoing  corre 
spondence  ;  and  I  trust  that  the  wording  which  I  shall 
adopt  will  not  offend  a,gainst  the  gravity  due  both  to  myself 


20  MR.  KINGSLEY  AND  DR.  NEWMAN 

and  to  the  occasion.  It  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the 
course  of  thought  evolved  in  it  without  some  familiarity 
of  expression. 

Mr.  Kingsley  begins  then  by  exclaiming, — "  O  the 
chicanery,  the  wholesale  fraud,  the  vile  hypocrisy,  the 
conscience-killing  tyranny  of  Rome  !  We  have  not  far 
to  seek  for  an  evidence  of  it.  There's  Father  Newman  to 
wit :  one  living  specimen  is  worth  a  hundred  dead  ones. 
He,  a  Priest  writing  of  Priests,  tells  us  that  lying  is  never 
any  harm." 

I  interpose  :  "  You  are  taking  a  most  extraordinary 
liberty  with  my  name.  If  I  have  said  this,  tell  me  when 
and  where." 

Mr.  Kingsley  replies  :  "  You  said  it,  Reverend  Sir,  in 
a  Sermon  which  you  preached,  when  a  Protestant,  as  Vicar 
of  St.  Mary's,  and  published  in  1844  ;  and  I  could  read 
you  a  very  salutary  lecture  on  the  effects  which  that  Sermon 
had  at  the  time  on  my  own  opinion  of  you." 

I  make  answer  :  "  Oh  .  .  .  Not,  it  seems,  as  a  Priest 
speaking  of  Priests  ; — but  let  us  have  the  passage." 

Mr.  Kingsley  relaxes  :  "Do  you  know,  I  like  your  tone. 
From  your  tone  I  rejoice,  greatly  rejoice,  to  be  able  to  believe 
that  you  did  not  mean  what  you  said." 

I  rejoin  :  "  Mean  it !  I  maintain  I  never  said  it,  whether 
as  a  Protestant  or  as  a  Catholic." 

Mr.  Kingsley  replies  :  "  I  waive  that  point." 

I  object :  "  Is  it  possible  !  What  ?  waive  the  main 
question  !  I  either  said  it  or  I  didn't.  You  have  made 
a  monstrous  charge  against  me  ;  direct,  distinct,  public. 
You  are  bound  to  prove  it  as  directly,  as  distinctly,  as 
publicly  ; — or  to  own  you  can't." 

"  Well,"  says  Mr.  Kingsley,  "  if  you  are  quite  sure  you 
did  not  say  it,  I'll  take  your  word  for  it ;  I  really  will." 

My  word!  I  am  dumb.  Somehow  I  thought  that  it 
was  my  word  that  happened  to  be  on  trial.  The  word  of 
a  Professor  of  lying,  that  he  does  not  lie  ! 

But  Mr.  Kingsley  re-assures  me  :  "  We  are  both  gentle 
men,"  he  says  :  "  I  have  done  as  much  as  one  English 
gentleman  can  expect  from  another." 

I  begin  to  see  :    he  thought  me  a  gentleman  at  the 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  21 

very  time  that  he  said  I  taught  lying  on  system.  After  all, 
it  is  not  I,  but  it  is  Mr.  Kingsley  who  did  not  mean  what 
he  said.  "  Habemus  confitentem  reum." 

So  we  have  confessedly  come  round  to  this,  preaching 
without  practising  ;  the  common  theme  of  satirists  from 
Juvenal  to  Walter  Scott !  "  I  left  Baby  Charles  and 
Steenie  laying  his  duty  before  him,"  says  King  James  of 
the  reprobate  Dalgarno  :  "0  Geordie,  jingling  Geordie,  it 
was  grand  to  hear  Baby  Charles  laying  down  the  guilt  of 
dissimulation,  and  Steenie  lecturing  on  the  turpitude  of 
incontinence." 

While  I  feel  then  that  Mr.  Kingsley's  February  explana 
tion  is  miserably  insufficient  in  itself  for  his  January 
enormity,  still  I  feel  also  that  the  Correspondence,  which 
lies  between  these  two  acts  of  his,  constitutes  a  real  satis 
faction  to  those  principles  of  historical  and  literary  justice 
to  which  he  has  given  so  rude  a  shock. 

Accordingly,  I  have  put  it  into  print,  and  make  no 
further  criticism  on  Mr.  Kingsley. 

J.  H.  N. 


[Reduced  Facsimile  of  the  original  Title-page.] 

"WHAT, THEN,  DOES  DE.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ? " 

A  REPLY 


TO 


A  PAMPHLET  LATELY  PUBLISHED 
BY  DR.  NEWMAN. 


BY   THE 

EEV.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 


"  It  is  not  more  than  a  hyperbole  to  say,  that,  in  certain  cases,  a  lie  is  the 
nearest  approach  to  truth." — NEWMAN,  Sermons  on  the  Theory  of  Religious  Belief, 
page  343. 


THIRD  EDITION. 

MACMILLAN    AND    CO. 

1864. 


•    "WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN 
MEAN?" 

DR.  NEWMAN  has  made  a  great  mistake.  He  has  pub 
lished  a  correspondence  between  himself  and  me,  with 
certain  "  Reflexions  "  and  a  title-page,  which  cannot  be 
allowed  to  pass  without  a  rejoinder. 

Before  commenting  on  either,  I  must  give  a  plain  account 
of  the  circumstances  of  the  controversy,  which  seem  to 
have  been  misunderstood  in  several  quarters.  In  the 
January  number  of  Macmillan's  Magazine,  I  deliberately 
and  advisedly  made  use  of  these  words  : — 

'  Truth,  for  its  own  sake,  had  never  been  a  virtue  with 
t"  the  Roman  clergy.  Father  Newman  informs  us  that  it 
''need  not,  and,  on  the  whole,  ought  not  to  be;  that 
^  cunning  is  the  weapon  which  Heaven  has  given  to  the 
"  saints  wherewith  to  withstand  the  brute  male  force  of 
"  the  wicked  world  which  marries  and  is  given  in  marriage." 
This  accusation  I  based  upon  a  considerable  number  of 
passages  in  Dr.  Newman's  writings,  and  especially  on  a 
sermon  entitled  "  Wisdom  and  Innocence,"  and  preached 
by  Dr.  Newman  as  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's,  and  published  as 
No.  XX.  of  his  "  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Day." 

Dr.  Newman  wrote,  in  strong  but  courteous  terms,  to 
Messrs.  Macmillan  and  Co.  complaining  of  this  language  as 
a  slander.  I  at  once  took  the  responsibility  on  myself,  and 
wrote  to  Dr.  Newman. 

I  had  been  informed  (by  a  Protestant)  that  he  was  in 
weak  health,  that  he  wished  for  peace  and  quiet,  and  was 
averse  to  controversy  ;  I  therefore  felt  some  regret  at 
having  disturbed  him  :  and  this  regret  was  increased  by 
the  moderate  and  courteous  tone  of  his  letters,  though 
they  contained,  of  course,  much  from  which  I  differed. 
I  addressed  to  him  the  following  letter,  of  which,  as  I  trust 


26       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

every  English  gentleman  will  feel,  I  have  no  reason  to  be 
ashamed  : — 

REVEREND  SIR, 

I  have  seen  a  letter  of  yours  to  Mr.  Macmillan,  in 
which  you  complain  of  some  expressions  of  mine  in  an 
article  in  the  January  number  of  Macmillan' s  Magazine. 

That  my  words  were  just,  I  believed  from  many  passages 
of  your  writings  ;  but  the  document  to  which  I  expressly 
referred  was  one  of  your  sermons  on  "  Subjects  of  the  Day," 
No.  XX.  in  the  volume  published  in  1844,  and  entitled 
"  Wisdom  and  Innocence." 

It  was  in  consequence  of  that  sermon  that  I  finally  shook 
off  the  strong  influence  which  your  writings  exerted  on  me, 
and  for  much  of  which  I  still  owe  you  a  deep  debt  of 
gratitude. 

I  am  most  happy  to  hear  from  you  that  I  mistook  (as 
I  understand  from  your  letter)  your  meaning  ;  and  I  shall 
be  most  happy,  on  your  showing  me  that  I  have  wronged 
you,  to  retract  my  accusation  as  publicly  as  I  have  made  it. 

I  am,  Rev.  Sir, 

Your  faithful  servant, 

CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 

I  received  a  very  moderate  answer  from  Dr.  Newman,  and 
a  short  correspondence  ensued,  which  ended  in  my  insert 
ing  in  the  February  number  of  Macmillan' 's  Magazine  the 
following  apology  : — 

To  the  Editor  of  "  MACALLAN'S  MAGAZINE." 

SIR, 

In  your  last  number  I  made  certain  allegations 
against  the  teaching  of  Dr.  John  Henry  Newman,  which 
I  thought  were  justified  by  a  sermon  of  his,  entitled 
"  Wisdom  and  Innocence  "  (Sermon  XX.  of  "  Sermons 
bearing  on  Subjects  of  the  Day  ").  Dr.  Newman  has,  by 
letter,  expressed  in  the  strongest  terms  his  denial  of  the 
meaning  which  I  have  put  upon  his  words.  It  only  remains, 
therefore,  for  me  to  express  my  hearty  regret  at  having 
so  seriously  mistaken  him. 

Yours  faithfully, 

CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  27 

My  object  had  been  throughout  to  avoid  war,  because 
I  thought  Dr.  Newman  wished  for  peace.  I  therefore 
dropped  the  question  of  the  meaning  of  "  many  passages 
of  his  writings,"  and  confined  myself  to  the  sermon  entitled 
"  Wisdom  and  Innocence,"  simply  to  give  him  an  oppor 
tunity  of  settling  the  dispute  on  that  one  ground. 

But  whether  Dr.  Newman  lost  his  temper,  or  whether 
he  thought  that  he  had  gained  an  advantage  over  me,  or 
whether  he  wanted  a  more  complete  apology  than  I  chose 
to  give,  whatever,  I  say,  may  have  been  his  reasons,  he 
suddenly  changed  his  tone  of  courtesy  and  dignity  for  one 
of  which  I  shall  only  say  that  it  shows  sadly  how  the 
atmosphere  of  the  Romish  priesthood  has  degraded  his 
notions  of  what  is  due  to  himself  ;  and  when  he  published 
(as  I  am  much  obliged  to  him  for  doing)  the  whole  corre 
spondence,  he  appended  to  it  certain  reflexions,  in  which 
he  attempted  to  convict  me  of  not  having  believed  the 
accusation  which  I  had  made. 

There  remains  for  me,  then,  nothing  but  to  justify  mj7 
mistake,  as  far  as  I  can. 

I  am,  of  course,  precluded  from  using  the  sermon  entitled 
"  Wisdom  and  Innocence  "  to  prove  my  words.  I  have 
accepted  Dr.  Newman's  denial  that  it  means  what  I  thought 
it  did  ;  and  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  withdraw  my  word 
once  given,  at  whatever  disadvantage  to  myself.  But  more. 
I  am  informed  by  those  from  whose  judgment  on  such 
points  there  is  no  appeal,  that,  "  en  hault  courage  "  and 
strict  honour,  I  am  also  precluded,  by  the  terms  of  my 
explanation,  from  using  any  other  of  Dr.  Newman's  past 
writings  to  prove  my  assertion.  I  have  declared  Dr.  New 
man  to  have  been  an  honest  man  up  to  the  1st  of  February, 
1864.  It  was,  as  I  shall  show,  only  Dr.  Newman's  fault 
that  I  ever  thought  him  to  be  anything  else.  It  depends 
entirely  on  Dr.  Newman  whether  he  shall  sustain  the 
reputation  which  he  has  so  recently  acquired.  If  I  give 
him  thereby  a  fresh  advantage  in  this  argument,  he  is 
most  welcome  to  it.  He  needs,  it  seems  to  me,  as  many 
advantages  as  possible.  But  I  have  a  right,  in  self -justifica 
tion,  to  put  before  the  public  so  much  of  that  sermon,  and 
of  the  rest  of  Dr.  Newman's  writings,  as  will  show  why 
I  formed  so  harsh  an  opinion  of  them  and  him,  and 


28       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

why  I  still  consider  that  sermon  (whatever  may  be  its 
meaning)  as  most  dangerous  and  misleading.  And  I  have 
a  full  right  to  do  the  same  by  those  "  many  passages  of 
Dr.  Newman's  writings  "  which  I  left  alone  at  first,  simply 
because  I  thought  that  Dr.  Newman  wished  for  peace. 

First,  as  to  the  sermon  entitled  "  Wisdom  and  Innocence." 

It  must  be  remembered  always  that  it  is  not  a  Protestant, 

but  a  Romish  sermon.     It  is  occupied  entirely  with  the 

attitude    of    "  the    world  "    to    "  Christians  "    and    "  the 

Church."    By  the  world  appears  to  be  signified,  especially, 

the  Protestant  public  of  these  realms.    What  Dr.  Newman 

means  by  Christians,  and  the  Church,  he  has  not  left  in 

doubt  ;  for  in  the  preceding  sermon  (XIX.  p.  328)  he  says  : 

"  But,  if  the  truth  must  be  spoken,  what  are  the  humble 

"  monk,  and  the  holy  nun,  and  other  regulars,  as  they  are 

"  called,  but  Christians  after  the  very  pattern  given  us  in 

"  Scripture  ?     What  have  they  done  but  this — continue 

"  in  the  world  the  Christianity  of  the  Bible  ?     Did  our 

"  Saviour  come  on  earth  suddenly,  as  He  will  one  day  visit, 

'  in  whom  would  He  see  the  features  of  the  Christians  He 

'  and  His  apostles  left  behind  them,  but  in  them  ?     Who 

'  but  these  give  up  home  and  friends,  wealth  and  ease, 

'  good  name  and  liberty  of  will,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ? 

'  Where  shall  we  find  the  image  of  St.  Paul,  or  St.  Peter, 

1  or  St.  John,  or  of  Mary  the  mother  of  Mark,  or  of  Philip's 

"  daughters,  but  in  those  who,  whether  they  remain  in 

'  seclusion,  or  are  sent  over  the  earth,  have  calm  faces,  and 

'  sweet  plaintive   voices,   and  spare  frames,   and  gentle 

'  manners,  and  hearts  weaned  from  the  world,  and  wills 

'  subdued  ;   and  for  their  meekness  meet  with  insult,  and 

'  for  their  purity  with  slander,  and  for  their  gravity  with 

'  suspicion,  and  for  their  courage  with  cruelty  ..."    This 

is  his  definition  of  Christians.    And  in  the  sermon  itself  he 

sufficiently  defines  what  he  means  by  "  the  Church  "  in 

two  "  notes  "  of  her  character,  which  he  shall  give  in  his 

own  words  (Sermon  XX.  p.  346)  :— "  What,  for  instance, 

"  though  we  grant  that  sacramental  confession  and  the 

"  celibacy  of  the  clergy  do  tend  to  consolidate  the  body 

"  politic  in  the  relation  of  rulers  and  subjects,  or,  in  other 

"  words,  to  aggrandize  the  priesthood  ?  for  how  can  the 

"  Church  be  one  body  without  such  relation  ?  "  .  .  . 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  29 

Monks  and  nuns  the  only  perfect  Christians  ;  sacramental 
confession  and  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  notes  of  the 
Church  ;  the  laity  in  relation  to  the  clergy  of  subjects  to 
rulers.  What  more  ?  If  I,  like  others,  on  the  strength  of 
Dr.  Newman's  own  definitions,  gave  to  his  advice  to 
Christians  concerning  "  wisdom,"  "  prudence,"  "  silence," 
the  meaning  which  they  would  have  in  the  mouth  of  a 
Romish  teacher — St.  Alfonso  da  Liguori,  for  instance — 
whom  can  Dr.  Newman  blame  for  the  mistake,  save 
himself  ? 

But  to  the  sermon  itself  ;  the  text  of  which  is  from 
Matthew  x.  16.  It  begins  by  stating  that  the  Church  has 
been  always  helpless  and  persecuted,  in  proportion  to  its 
purity.  Dr.  Newman  then  asks,  how  Christians  are  to 
defend  themselves  if  they  might  not  fight  ?  and  answers, 
"  They  were  allowed  the  arms,  that  is,  the  arts,  of  the 
defenceless."  He  shows  how  the  weaker  animals  are 
enabled  to  defend  themselves  by  various  means,  among 
which  he  enumerates  "  natural  cunning,  which  enables 
them  to  elude  or  even  to  destroy  their  enemies."  He  goes 
on  to  show  how  the  same  holds  good  in  our  own  species, 
in  the  case  of  "  a  captive,  effeminate  race  "  ;  of  "  slaves  "  ; 
of  "  ill-used  and  oppressed  children  "  ;  of  the  "  subjects 
of  a  despot."  "  They  exercise  the  inalienable  right  of  self- 
"  defence  in  such  methods  as  they  best  may  ;  only,  since 
"  human  nature  is  unscrupulous,  guilt  or  innocence  is  all 
"  the  same  to  them,  if  it  works  their  purpose." 

He  goes  on  to  point  out  the  analogy  between  these  facts 
and  the  conduct  fit  for  Christians.  "  The  servants  of  Christ 
"  are  forbidden  to  defend  themselves  by  violence  ;  but  they 
"  are  not  forbidden  other  means  :  direct  means  are  not 
"  allowed,  but  others  are  even  commanded.  For  instance, 
"  foresight,  '  beware  of  men  '  :  avoidance,  '  when  they  per- 
e  *  secute  you  in  one  city,  flee  into  another  '  :  prudence  and 
"  skill,  as  in  the  text,  '  Be  ye  wrise  as  serpents.'  ' 

The  mention  of  the  serpent  reminds  him  of  the  serpent  in 
Paradise  ;  and  he  says,  "  Considering  that  the  serpent  was 
"  chosen  by  the  enemy  of  mankind  as  the  instrument  of 
"  his  temptations  in  Paradise,  it  is  very  remarkable  that 
"  Christ  should  choose  it  as  the  pattern  of  wisdom  for  His 
"  followers.  It  is  as  if  He  appealed  to  the  whole  world  of 


30       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

"  sin,  and  to  the  bad  arts  by 'which  the  feeble  gain  ad van - 
'  tages  over  the  strong.  It  is  as  if  He  set  before  us  the 
'  craft  and  treachery,  the  perfidy  of  the  slave,  and  bade 
'  us  extract  a  lesson  even  from  so  great  an  evil.  It  is  as 
*  if  the  more  we  are  forbidden  violence,  the  more  we  are 
'  exhorted  to  prudence  ;  as  if  it  were  our  bounden  duty 
'  to  rival  the  wicked  in  endowments  of  mind,  and  to  excel 
'  them  in  their  exercise." 

Dr.  Newman  then  goes  on  to  assert,  that  "  if  there  be  one 
reproach  more  than  another  which  has  been  cast  upon  "  the 
Church,  "  it  is  that  of  fraud  and  cunning."  He  quotes  the 
imputations  of  craftiness  and  deceitfuhiess  thrown  upon 
St.  Paul,  and  even  of  "  deceit  "  upon  our  Lord  himself.  He 
then  says  that  "  Priestcraft  has  ever  been  considered  the 
badge,  and  its  imputation  is  a  kind  of  note,  of  the  Church." 
He  asserts  that  the  accusation  has  been,  save  in  a  few 
exceptions,  unfounded  ;  and  that  "  the  words  *  craft '  and 
"  *  hypocrisy*  are  but  the  version  of  '  wisdom  '  and  *  harm- 
"  '  lessness '  in  the  language  of  the  world."  "  It  is  remark- 
"  able,  however,  that  not  only  is  harmlessness  the  corrective 
"  of  wisdom,  securing  it  against  the  corruption  of  craft 
"  and  deceit,  as  stated  in  the  text :  but  innocence,  sim- 
"  plicity,  implicit  obedience  to  God,  tranquillity  of  mind, 
"  contentment,  these  and  the  like  virtues  are  in  themselves 
"  a  sort  of  wisdom  ;  I  mean,  they  produce  the  same  results 
"  as  wisdom,  because  God  works  for  those  who  do  not 
"  work  for  themselves  ;  and  thus  they  especially  incur  the 
"  charge  of  craft  at  the  hands  of  the  world,  because  they 
"  pretend  to  so  little,  yet  effect  so  much.  This  circumstance 
"  admits  dwelling  on." 
He  then  goes  on  to  mention  seven  heads  : — 
"  First,  sobriety,  self-restraint,  control  of  word  and 
"  feeling,  which  religious  men  exercise,  have  about  them  an 
"  appearance  of  being  artificial,  because  they  are  not 
"  natural ;  and  of  being  artful,  because  artificial  "  ;  and 
adds  shortly  after,  that  "those  who  would  be  holy 
"  and  blameless,  the  sons  of  God,  find  so  much  in  the  world 
"  to  unsettle  and  defile  them,  that  they  are  necessarily 
"  forced  upon*  a  strict  self-restraint,  lest  they  should  receive 
"  injury  from  such  intercourse  with  it  as  is  unavoidable  ; 
"  and  this  self-restraint  is  the  first  thing  which  makes  holy 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  31 

"  persons  seem  wanting  in  openness  and  manliness."  Next 
he  points  out  that  "  religious  men  are  a  mystery  to  the 
"  world ;  and  being  a  mystery,  they  will  in  mere  self- 
"  defence  be  called  by  the  world  mysterious,  dark,  subtle, 
"  designing."  Next,  that  "it  is  very  difficult  to  make 
"  the  world  understand  the  difference  between  an  outward 
"  obedience  and  an  inward  assent."  He  then  instances 
the  relations  between  the  early  Christians  and  the  heathen 
magistrates  ;  and  adds,  that  "  when  religious  men  out- 
"  wardly  conform,  on  the  score  of  duty,  to  the  powers  that 
"  be,  the  world  is  easily  led  into  the  mistake  that  they  have 
"  renounced  their  opinions,  as  well  as  submitted  their 
"  actions  ;  and  it  feels  or  affects  surprise,  to  find  that  their 
"  opinions  remain  ;  and  it  considers,  or  calls  this,  an  incon- 
"  sistency,  or  a  duplicity  "  :  with  more  to  the  same  purpose. 

Next,  the  silent  resignation  of  Christians  is  set  forth  as 
a  cause  of  the  world's  suspicion  ;  and  "so  is  their  con- 
"  fidence,  in  spite  of  their  apparent  weakness,  their  cause 
"  will  triumph." 

Another  cause  of  the  world's  suspicion  is,  the  unexpected 
success  of  religious  men. 

Another,  that  the  truth  has  in  itself  the  power  of  spread 
ing,  without  instruments,  "  making  the  world  impute  "  to 
secret  management  that  uniformity,  which  is  nothing  but 
the  echo  of  the  One  Living  and  True  Word. 

Another,  that  when  Christians  prosper,  contrary  to  their 
own  expectations,  "  it  looks  like  deceit  to  show  surprise,  and 
to  disclaim  the  work  themselves." 

And  lastly,  because  God  works  for  Christians,  and  they 
are  successful,  when  they  only  mean  to  be  dutiful.  "  But 
"  what  duplicity  does  the  world  think  it,  to  speak  of 
"  conscience,  or  honour,  or  propriety,  or  delicacy,  or  to  give 
"  other  tokens  of  personal  motives,  when  the  event  seems 
"  to  show  that  a  calculation  of  results  has  been  the  actuating 
"  principle  at  bottom.  It  is  God  who  designs,  but  His 
"  servants  seem  designing.  .  .  ." 

Dr.  Newman  then  goes  on  to  point  out  how  "  Jacob 
"  is  thought  worldly  wise  in  his  dealings  with  Laban, 
"  whereas  he  was  a  '  plain  man/  simply  obedient  to  the 
"  angel."  ...  "  Moses  is  sometimes  called  sagacious  and 
"'  shrewd  in  his  measures  or  his  law,  as  if  wise  acts  might 


32       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

'  not  come  from  the  source  of  wisdom."  ..."  Bishops  have 
'  been  called  hypocritical  in  submitting  and  yet  opposing 
'  themselves  to  the  civil  power,  in  a  matter  of  plain  duty, 
'  if  a  popular  movement  was  the  consequence  ;  and  then 
'  hypocritical  again,  if  they  did  their  best  to  repress  it. 
'  And,  in  like  manner,  theological  doctrines  or  ecclesiastical 
'  usages  are  styled  politic  if  they  are  but  salutary ;  as  if 
'  the  Lord  of  the  Church,  who  has  willed  her  sovereignty, 
'  might  not  effect  it  by  secondary  causes.  What,  for 
'  instance,  though  we  grant  that  sacramental  confession 
'  and  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  do  tend  to  consolidate  the 
'  body  politic  in  the  relation  of  rulers  and  subjects,  or, 
'  in  other  words,  to  aggrandise  the  priesthood  ?  For  how 
'  can  the  Church  be  one  body  without  such  relation  ;  and 
'  why  should  not  He,  who  has  decreed  that  there  should 
'  be  unity,  take  measures  to  secure  it  ?  " 

The  reason  of  these  suspicions  on  the  part  of  the  world  is 
then  stated  to  be,  that  "  men  do  not  like  to  hear  of  the  inter  - 
"  position  of  Providence  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  ;  and 
"  they  invidiously  ascribe  ability  and  skill  to  His  agents,  to 
"  escape  the  thought  of  an  Infinite  Wisdom  and  an  Almighty 

"  Power " 

The  sermon  then  closes  with  a  few  lines  of  great  beauty, 
in  that  style  which  has  won  deservedly  for  Dr.  Newman 
the  honour  of  being  the  most  perfect  orator  of  this  genera 
tion  ;  but  they  have  no  reference  to  the  question  in  hand, 
save  the  words,  "  We  will  glory  in  what  they  disown." 

I  have  tried  conscientiously  to  give  a  fair  and  complete 
digest  of  this,  to  me,  very  objectionable  and  dangerous 
sermon.  I  have  omitted  no  passage  in  which  Dr.  Newman 
guards  himself  against  the  conclusions  which  I  drew  from 
it ;  and  none,  I  verily  believe,  which  is  required  for  the  full 
understanding  of  its  general  drift.  I  have  abstained  from 
all  comment  as  I  went  on,  in  order  not  to  prejudice  the 
minds  of  my  readers.  But  I  must  now  turn  round  and 
ask,  whether  the  mistake  into  which  Dr.  Newman  asserts 
me  to  have  fallen  was  not  a  very  reasonable  one  ;  and 
whether  the  average  of  educated  Englishmen,  in  reading 
that  sermon,  would  not  be  too  likely  to  fall  into  the  same  ? 
I  put  on  it,  as  I  thought,  the  plain  and  straightforward 
signification.  I  find  I  am  wrong  ;  and  nothing  is  left  for 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  33 

me  but  to  ask,  with  some  astonishment,  What,  then,  did 
the  sermon  mean  ?  Why  was  it  preached  ?  To  insinuate 
that  a  Church  which  had  sacramental  confession  and  a 
celibate  clergy  was  the  only  true  Church  ?  Or  to  insinuate 
that  the  admiring  young  gentlemen  who  listened  to  him 
stood  to  their  fellow-countrymen  in  the  relation  of  the  early 
Christians  to  the  heathen  Romans  ?  Or  that  Queen 
Victoria's  Government  was  to  the  Church  of  England  what 
Nero's  or  Diocletian's  was  to  the  Church  of  Rome  ?  It 
may  have  been  so.  I  know  that  men  used  to  suspect 
Dr.  Newman — I  have  been  inclined  to  do  so  myself — of 
writing  a  whole  sermon,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  text  or 
of  the  matter,  but  for  the  sake  of  one  single  passing  hint — 
one  phrase,  one  epithet,  one  little  barbed  arrow  which,  as 
he  swept  magnificently  past  on  the  stream  of  his  calm 
eloquence,  seemingly  unconscious  of  all  presences,  save 
those  unseen,  he  delivered  unheeded,  as  with  his  finger-tip, 
to  the  very  heart  of  an  initiated  hearer,  never  to  be  with 
drawn  again.  I  do  not  blame  him  for  that.  It  is  one  of 
the  highest  triumphs  of  oratorio  power,  and  may  be 
employed  honestly  and  fairly,  by  any  person  who  has  the 
skill  to  do  it  honestly  and  fairly.  But  then — Why  did  he 
entitle  his  sermon  "  Wisdom  and  Innocence  "  ? 

What,  then,  could  I  think  that  Dr.  Newman  meant  ? 
I  found  a  preacher  bidding  Christians  imitate,  to  some 
undefined  point,  the  "  arts  "  of  the  basest  of  animals  and 
of  men,  and  even  of  the  Devil  himself.  I  found  him,  by 
a  strange  perversion  of  Scripture,  insinuating  that  St.  Paul's 
conduct  and  manner  were  such  as  naturally  to  bring  down 
on  him  the  reputation  of  being  a  crafty  deceiver.  I  found 
him — horrible  to  have  to  say  it — even  hinting  the  same  of 
One  greater  than  St.  Paul.  I  found  him  denying  or  explain 
ing  away  the  existence  of  that  priestcraft  which  is  a 
notorious  fact  to  every  honest  student  of  history  ;  and 
justifying  (as  far  as  I  can  understand  him)  that  double- 
dealing  by  which  prelates,  in  the  middle  age,  too  often 
played  off  alternately  the  sovereign  against  the  people  and 
the  people  against  the  sovereign,  careless  which  was  in  the 
right,  as  long  as  their  own  power  gained  by  the  move. 
I  found  him  actually  using  of  such  (and,  as  I  thought,  of 
himself  and  his  party  likewise)  the  words,  "  They  yield 

APOLOGIA  Q 


34        "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

"  outwardly  ;  to  assent  inwardly  were  to  betray  the  faith. 
"  Yet  they  are  called  deceitful  and  double-dealing,  because 
"  they  do  as  much  as  they  can,  and  not  more  than  they 
"  may."  I  found  him  telling  Christians  that  they  will 
always  seem  "  artificial,"  and  "  wanting  in  openness  and 
manliness  ;  "  that  they  will  always  be  "  a  mystery  "  to 
the  world,-and  that  the  world  will  always  think  them  rogues ; 
and  bidding  them  glory  in  what  the  world  (i.e.  the  rest  of 
their  fellow-countrymen)  disown,  and  say  with  Mawworm, 
"  I  like  to  be  despised." 

Now  how  was  I  to  know  that  the  preacher,  who  had  the 
reputation  of  being  the  most  acute  man  of  his  generation, 
and  of  having  a  specially  ultimate  acquaintance  with  the 
weaknesses  of  the  human  heart,  was  utterly  blind  to  the 
broad  meaning  and  the  plain  practical  result  of  a  sermon 
like  this,  delivered  before  fanatic  and  hot-headed  young 
men,  who  hung  over  his  every  word  ?  That  he  did  not 
foresee  that  they  would  think  that  they  obeyed  him,  by 
becoming  affected,  artificial,  sly,  shifty,  ready  for  conceal 
ments  and  equivocations  ?  That  he  did  not  foresee  that 
they,  hearing  his  words  concerning  priestcraft  and  double- 
dealing,  and  being  engaged  in  the  study  of  the  Medieval 
Church,  would  consider  the  same  chicanery  allowed  to  them 
which  they  found  practised  but  too  often  by  the  Mediaeval 
Church  ?  or  even  go  to  the  Romish  casuists,  to  discover 
what  amount  of  cunning  did  or  did  not  come  under  Dr. 
Newman's  one  passing  warning  against  craft  and  deceit  ? 
In  a  word,  that  he  did  not  foresee  that  the  natural  result 
of  the  sermon  on  the  minds  of  his  disciples  would  be,  to  make 
them  suspect  that  truth  was  not  a  virtue  for  its  own  sake, 
but  only  for  the  sake  of  the  spread  of  "  catholic  opinions," 
and  the  "  salvation  of  their  own  souls  ;  "  and  that  cunning 
was  the  weapon  which  Heaven  had  allowed  to  them  to  defend 
themselves  against  the  persecuting  Protestant  public  ? 

All  England  stood  round  in  those  days,  and  saw  that  this 
would  be  the  outcome  of  Dr.  Newman's  teaching.  How  was 
I  to  know  that  he  did  not  see  it  himself  ? 

And  as  a  fact,  his  teaching  had  this  outcome.  Whatever 
else  it  did,  it  did  this.  In  proportion  as  young  men  absorbed 
it  into  themselves,  it  injured  their  straightforwardness  and 
truthfulness.  The  fact  is  notorious  to  all  England.  It 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  35 

spread  misery  and  shame  into  many  an  English  home.  The 
net  practical  result  of  Dr.  Newman's  teachings  on  truthful 
ness  cannot  be  better  summed  up  than  by  one  of  his  own 
disciples,  Mr.  Ward,  who,  in  his  "  Ideal  of  a  Christian 
Church,"  page  382,  says  thus  : — 

"  Candour  is  rather  an  intellectual  than  a  moral  virtue, 
"  and  by  no  means  either  universally  or  distinctively 
"  characteristic  of  the  saintly  mind." 

Dr.  Newman  ought  to  have  told  his  disciple,  when  he 
wrote  those  words,  that  he  was  on  the  highroad  to  the  father 
of  lies  ;  and  he  ought  to  have  told  the  world,  too,  that  such 
was  his  opinion  ;  unless  he  wished  it  to  fall  into  the  mistake 
into  which  I  fell — namely,  that  he  had  wisdom  enough  to 
know  the  practical  result  of  his  words,  and  therefore  meant 
what  they  seemed  to  say. 

Dr.  Newman  has  nothing  to  blame  for  that  mistake,  save 
his  own  method.  If  he  would  (while  a  member  of  the  Church 
of  England)  persist  (as  in  this  sermon)  in  dealing  with 
matters  dark,  offensive,  doubtful,  sometimes  actually 
forbidden,  at  least  according  to  the  notions  of  the  great 
majority  of  English  Churchmen ;  if  he  would  always  do 
so  in  a  tentative,  paltering  way,  seldom  or  never  letting 
the  world  know  how  much  he  believed,  how  far  he  intended 
to  go  ;  if,  in  a  word,  his  method  of  teaching  was  a  suspicious 
one,  what  wonder  if  the  minds  of  men  were  filled  with 
suspicions  of  him  ?  What  wonder  if  they  said  of  him  (as 
he  so  naively,  in  one  of  his  letters,  expresses  his  fear  that 
they  will  say  again),  "Dr.  Newman  has  the  skill  of  a  great 
"  master  of  verbal  fence,  who  knows,  as  well  as  any  man 
'  living,  how  to  insinuate  a  doctrine  without  committing 
"  himself  to  it  ?  "  If  he  told  the  world,  as  he  virtually 
does  in  this  sermon,  "  I  know  that  my  conduct  looks  like 
"  cunning  ;  but  it  is  only  the  '  arts  '  of  the  defenceless  :  " 
what  wonder  if  the  world  answered,  "No.  It  is  what  it 
"  seems.  That  is  just  what  we  call  cunning  ;  a  habit 
"  of  mind  which,  once  indulged,  is  certain  to  go  on  from 
"  bad  to  worse,  till  the  man  becomes — like  too  many  of 
"  the  mediaeval  clergy  who  indulged  in  it — utterly  untrust- 
"  worthy."  Dr.  Newman,  I  say,  has  no  one  to  blame  but 
himself.  The  world  is  not  so  blind  but  that  it  will  soon 
find  out  an  honest  man  if  he  will  take  the  trouble  of  talking 


36        "WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN?" 

and  acting  like  one.  No  one  would  have  suspected  him  to 
be  a  honest  man,  if  he  had  not  perversely  chosen  to  assume 
a  style  which  (as  he  himself  confesses)  the  world  always 
associates  with  dishonesty. 

When,  therefore,  Dr.  Newman  says  (p.  10  of  his  pamphlet) 
that  "  he  supposes,  in  truth,  there  is  nothing  at  all,  however 
11  base,  up  to  the  high  mark  of  Titus  Gates,  which  a  Catholic 
"  may  not  expect  to  be  believed  of  him  by  Protestants, 
"  however  honourable  and  hard-headed,"  he  is  stating 
a  mere  phantom  of  his  own  brain.  It  is  not  so.  I  do  not 
believe  it  ever  was  so.  In  the  days  when  Jesuits  were 
inciting  fanatics  to  assassinate  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  again 
in  the  days  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  there  was  deservedly 
a  very  strong  feeling  against  Romish  priests,  and  against 
a  few  laymen  who  were  their  dupes  ;  and  it  was  the  recol 
lection  of  that  which  caused  the  "  Titus  Gates  "  tragedy, 
which  Dr.  Newman  so  glibly  flings  in  our  teeth,  omitting 
(or  forgetting)  that  Gates'  villany  would  have  been  im 
possible  without  the  preceding  villanies  of  Popish  fanatics, 
and  that  he  was  unmasked,  condemned,  and  punished  by 
the  strong  and  great  arm  of  British  law.  But  there  was 
never,  I  believe,  even  in  the  worst  times,  any  general  belief 
that  Catholics,  simply  as  such,  must  be  villains. 

There  is  none  now.  The  Catholic  laity  of  these  realms  are 
just  as  much  respected  and  trusted  as  the  Protestants,  when 
their  conduct  justifies  that  respect  and  trust,  as  it  does 
in  the  case  of  all  save  a  few  wild  Irish;  and  so  are  the 
Romish  priests,  as  long  as  they  show  themselves  good  and 
honest  men,  who  confine  themselves  to  the  care  of  their 
flock.  If  there  is  (as  there  is)  a  strong  distrust  of  certain 
Catholics,  it  is  restricted  to  the  proselytizing  priests  among 
them  ;  and  especially  to  those  who,  like  Dr.  Newman, 
have  turned  round  upon  their  mother-Church  (I  had  almost 
said  their  mother-country)  with  contumely  and  slander. 
And  I  confess,  also,  that  this  public  dislike  is  very  rapidly 
increasing,  for  reasons  which  I  shall  leave  Dr.  Newman  and 
his  advisers  to  find  out  for  themselves. 

I  go  on  now  to  other  works  of  Dr.  Newman,  from  which 
(as  I  told  him  in  my  first  letter)  I  had  conceived  an  opinion 
unfavourable  to  his  honesty. 

I  shall  be  expected  to  adduce,  first  and  foremost,  the 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  37 

too -notorious  No.  90  of  "  Tracts  for  the  Times."  I  shall  not 
do  so.  On  reading  that  tract  over  again,  I  have  been  con 
firmed  in  the  opinion  which  I  formed  of  it  at  first,  that, 
questionable  as  it  was,  it  was  not  meant  to  be  consciously 
dishonest ;  that  some  few  sayings  in  it  were  just  and  true  ; 
that  many  of  its  extravagances  were  pardonable,  as  the 
natural  fruit  of  a  revulsion  against  the  popular  cry  of  those 
days,  which  called  on  clergymen  to  interpret  the  Articles 
only  in  their  Calvinistic  sense,  instead  of  including  under 
them  (as  their  wise  framers  intended)  not  only  the  Calvin 
istic,  but  the  Anglican  form  of  thought.  There  were  pages 
in  it  which  shocked  me,  and  which  shock  me  still.  I  will 
instance  the  commentaries  on  the  5th,  on  the  7th,  on  the 
9th,  and  on  the  12th  Articles  ;  because  in  them  Dr.  Newman 
seemed  to  me  trying  to  make  the  Articles  say  the  very 
thing  which  (I  believe)  the  Articles  were  meant  not  to  say. 
But  I  attributed  to  him  no  intentional  dishonesty.  The 
fullest  licence  of  interpretation  should  be  given  to  every 
man  who  is  bound  by  the  letter  of  a  document.  The  animus 
imponentium  should  be  heard  of  as  little  as  possible,  because 
it  is  almost  certain  to  become  merely  the  animus  interpretan- 
tium.  And  more  :  Every  excuse  was  to  be  made  for  a  man 
struggling  desperately  to  keep  himself  in  what  was,  in  fact, 
his  right  place,  to  remain  a  member  of  the  Church  of 
England,  where  Providence  had  placed  him,  while  he  felt 
himself  irresistibly  attracted  towards  Rome.  But  I  saw  in 
that  tract  a  fearful  danger  for  the  writer.  It  was  but  too 
probable,  that  if  he  continued  to  demand  of  that  subtle 
brain  of  his,  such  tours  de  force  as  he  had  all  but  succeeded 
in  performing,  when  he  tried  to  show  that  the  Article 
against  "  the  sacrifice  of  masses  "  "  did  not  speak  against 
the  mass  itself,"  he  would  surely  end  in  one  or  other  of  two 
misfortunes.  He  would  either  destroy  his  own  sense  of 
honesty — i.e.  conscious  truthfulness — and  become  a  dis 
honest  person  ;  or  he  would  destroy  his  common  sense — 
i.e.  unconscious  truthfulness,  and  become  the  slave  and 
puppet  seemingly  of  his  own  logic,  really  of  his  own  fancy, 
ready  to  believe  anything,  however  preposterous,  into  which 
he  could,  for  the  moment,  argue  himself.  I  thought,  for 
years  past,  that  he  had  become  the  former  ;  I  now  see 
that  he  has  become  the  latter. 


38        "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

I  beg  pardon  for  saying  so  much  about  myself.  But  this 
is  a  personal  matter  between  Dr.  Newman  and  me,  and  I  say 
what  I  say  simply  to  show,  not  Dr.  Newman,  but  my  fellow- 
Protestants,  that  my  opinion  of  him  was  not  an  "  impul 
sive  "  or  "  hastily-formed  one."  I  know  his  writings  of  old, 
and  now.  But  I  was  so  far  just  to  him,  that  No.  90,  which 
made  all  the  rest  of  England  believe  him  a  dishonest  man, 
had  not  the  same  effect  on  me. 

But  again — 

I  found  Dr.  Newman,  while  yet  (as  far  as  could  be  now 
discovered)  a  member  of  the  Church  of  England,  aiding  and 
abetting  the  publication  of  certain  "  Lives  of  the  English 
Saints,"  of  which  I  must  say,  that  no  such  public  outrage 
on  historic  truth,  and  on  plain  common  sense,  has  been 
perpetrated  in  this  generation.  I  do  not  intend  to  impute 
to  any  of  the  gentlemen  who  wrote  these  lives — and  more 
than  one  of  whom,  I  believe,  I  knew  personally — the  least 
deliberate  intention  to  deceive.  They  said  what  they 
believed  ;  at  least,  what  they  had  been  taught  to  believe 
that  they  ought  to  believe.  And  who  had  taught  them  ? 
Dr.  Newman  can  best  answer  that  question.  He  had,  at 
least,  that  power  over  them,  and  in  those  days  over  hundreds 
more,  which  genius  can  always  command.  He  might  have 
used  it  well.  He  might  have  made  those  "  Lives  of  Saints," 
what  they  ought  to  have  been,  books  to  turn  the  hearts 
of  the  children  to  the  Fathers,  and  to  make  the  present 
generation  acknowledge  and  respect  the  true  sanctity 
which  there  was,  in  spite  of  all  mistakes,  in  those  great 
men  of  old — a  sanctity  founded  on  true  virtue  and  true 
piety,  which  required  no  tawdry  super-structure  of  lying 
and  ridiculous  wonders.  He  might  have  said  to  the  author 
of  the  "  Life  of  St.  Augustine,"  when  he  found  him,  in  the 
heat  and  haste  of  youthful  fanaticism,  outraging  historic 
truth  and  the  law  of  evidence  :  "  This  must  not  be.  Truth 
"  for  its  own  sake  is  a  more  precious  thing  than  any  purpose, 
"  however  pious  and  useful,  which  we  may  have  in  hand." 
But  when  I  found  him  allowing  the  world  to  accept,  as 
notoriously  sanctioned  by  him,  such  statements  as  are 
found  in  that  life,  was  my  mistake  a  hasty,  or  far-fetched, 
or  unfounded  one,  when  I  concluded  that  he  did  not  care 
for  truth  for  its  own  sake,  or  teach  his  disciples  to  regard 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  39 

it  as  a  virtue  ?  I  found  that  "  Life  of  St.  Augustine  " 
saying,  that  though  the  pretended  visit  of  St.  Peter  to 
England  wanted  historic  evidence,  "  yet  it  has  undoubtedly 
"  been  received  as  a  pious  opinion  by  the  Church  at  large,  as 
"  we  learn  from  some  often-quoted  words  of  St.  Innocent  I. 
"  (who  wrote  A.D.  416),  that  St.  Peter  was  instrumental  in 
"  the  conversion  of  the  West  generally.  And  this  sort  of 
"  argument,  though  it  ought  to  be  kept  quite  distinct  from 
"  documentary  and  historic  proof,  and  will  form  no  substi- 
"  tute  for  such  proof  with  those  who  stipulate  for  something 
"  like  legal  accuracy  in  inquiries  of  this  nature,  will  not  be 
"  without  its  effect  upon  devout  minds,  accustomed  to  rest 
"  in  the  thought  of  God's  watchful  guardianship  over  His 
"  Church."  .  .  .  And  much  more  in  the  same  tone,  which  is 
worthily,  and  consistently  summed  up  by  the  question  : 
"  On  what  evidence  do  we  put  faith  in  the  existence  of 
"  St.  George,  the  patron  of  England  ?  Upon  such,  assuredly, 
"as  an  acute  critic  or  skilful  pleader  might  easily  scatter 
"  to  the  winds  ;  the  belief  of  prejudiced  or  credulous 
"  witnesses  ;  the  unwritten  record  of  empty  pageants  and 
"  bauble  decorations.  On  the  side  of  scepticism  might 
"  be  exhibited  a  powerful  array  of  suspicious  legends  and 
"  exploded  acts.  Yet,  after  all,  what  Catholic  is  there  but 
"  would  count  it  a  profaneness  to  question  the  existence 
"  of  St.  George  «  " 

When  I  found  Dr.  Newman  allowing  his  disciples — 
members,  even  then,  of  the  Protestant  Church  of  England — 
in  page  after  page,  in  Life  after  Life,  to  talk  nonsense  of 
this  kind,-  which  is  not  only  sheer  Popery,  but  saps  the  very 
foundation  of  historic  truth,  was  it  so  wonderful  that  I  con 
ceived  him  to  have  taught  and  thought  like  them  ? 

But  more.  I  found,  that  although  the  responsibility  of 
these  Saints'  Lives  was  carefully  divided  and  guarded  by 
anonymousness,  and  by  Dr.  Newman's  advertisement  in 
No.  1,  that  the  different  lives  would  be  "  published  by  their 
respective  authors  on  their  own  responsibility,"  yet  that 
Dr.  Newman  had,  in  what  I  must  now  consider  merely 
a  moment  of  amiable  weakness,  connected  himself  formally 
with  one  of  the  most  offensive  of  these  Lives,  and  with  its 
most  ridiculous  statements.  I  speak  of  the  "  Life  of 
St.  Walburga."  There  is,  in  all  the  Lives,  the  same  tendency 


40       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

to  repeat  childish  miracles,  to  waive  the  common  laws  of 
evidence,  to  say  to  the  reader,  "  You  must  believe  all  or 
nothing."  But  some  of  them,  the  writers,  for  instance, 
of  Vol.  IV.,  which  contains,  among  others,  a  charming  life 
of  St.  Neot — treat  the  stories  openly  as  legends  and  myths, 
and  tell  them  as  they  stand,  without  asking  the  reader,  or 
themselves,  to  believe  them  altogether.  The  method  is 
harmless  enough,  if  the  legends  had  stood  alone  ;  but 
dangerous  enough,  when  they  stand  side  by  side  with 
stories  told  in  earnest,  like  that  of  St.  Walburga.  In  that, 
not  only  has  the  writer  expatiated  upon  some  of  the  most 
nauseous  superstitions  of  the  middle  age,  but  Dr.  Newman 
has,  in  a  preface  signed  with  his  initials,  solemnly  set  his 
seal  to  the  same. 

The  writer — an  Oxford  scholar,  and,  as  far  as  I  know, 
then  a  professed  member  of  the  Church  of  England — dares 
to  tell  us  of  such  miracles  as  these  : — 

How  a  little  girl,  playing  with  a  ball  near  the  monastery, 
was  punished  for  her  over-fondness  for  play,  by  finding  the 
ball  stick  to  her  hand,  and,  running  to  St.  Walburga's 
shrine  to  pray,  had  the  ball  immediately  taken  off. 

How  a  woman  who  would  spin  on  festival-days  in 
like  manner  found  her  distaff  cling  to  her  hand,  and 
had  to  beg  of  St.  Walburga's  bone,  before  she  could 
get  rid  of  it. 

How  a  man  who  came  into  the  church  to  pray,  "  irrever- 
"  ently  kept  his  rough  gauntlets,  or  gloves,  on  his  hands, 
"as  he  joined  them  in  the  posture  of  prayer."  How  they 
were  miraculously  torn  off,  and  then,  when  he  repented, 
"  restored  by  a  miracle."  "  All  these,"  says  the  writer, 
"  have  the  character  of  a  gentle  mother  correcting  the 
"  idleness  and  faults  of  careless  and  thoughtless  children 
"  with  tenderness." 

"  But  the  most  remarkable  and  lasting  miracle,  attesting 
"  the  holy  Walburga's  sanctity,  is  that  which  reckons  her 
"  among  the  saints  who  are  called  '  Elaeophori,'  or  '  un- 
"  guentiferous,'  becoming,  almost  in  a  literal  sense,  olive- 
"  trees  in  the  courts  of  God.  These  are  they  from  whose 
"  bones  a  holy  oil  distils.  That  oil  of  charity  and  gentle 
"  mercy  which  graced  them  while  alive,  and  fed  in  them 
"  the  flame  of  universal  love  at  their  death,  still  permeates 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  41 

*  their  bodily  remains."  After  quoting  the  names  of  male 
saints  who  have  possessed  this  property,  the  author  goes 
on  to  detail  how  this  holy  oil  fell,  in  drops,  sometimes 
the  size  of  a  hazel-nut,  sometimes  of  a  pea,  into  the  silver 
bowl  beneath  the  stone  slab.  How,  when  the  state  of 
Aichstadt  was  laid  under  an  interdict,  the  holy  oil  ceased, 
"  until  the  Church  regained  its  rights,"  and  so  forth,  and 
so  forth ;  and  then,  returning  to  his  original  image, 
metaphor,  illustration,  proof,  or  whatever  else  it  may  be 
called  by  reasoners  such  as  he  and  Dr.  Newman,  he  says 
that  the  same  flow  of  oil  or  dew  is  related  of  this  female 
saint  and  that — women  whose  souls,  like  that  of  Walburga, 
were  touched  "  with  true  compassion  ;  whose  bosom,  like 
"  hers,  melted  by  divine  love,  was  filled  with  the  milk  of 
"  human  kindness,"  &c.  I  can  quote  no  more.  I  really 
must  recollect  that  my  readers  and  I  are  living  in  the 
nineteenth  century. 

And  to  all  this  stuff  and  nonsense,  more  materialist  than 
the  dreams  of  any  bone -worshipping  Buddhist,  Dr.  Newman 
puts  a  preface,  in  which  he  says  of  the  question  whether 
the  "miracles  recorded  in  these  narratives"  (i.e.  in  the 
whole  series,  this  being  only  No.  II.),  especially  those 
contained  in  the  life  of  St.  Walburga,  "  are  to  be  received 
as  matter  of  fact ;  "  that  "  in  this  day,  and  under  our 
"  present  circumstances,  we  can  only  reply,  that  there  is 
"  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be.  They  are  the  kind 
"  of  facts  proper  to  ecclesiastical  history,  just  as  instances 
"  of  sagacity  or  daring,  personal  prowess,  or  crime,  are  the 
"  facts  proper  to  secular  history."  Verily,  his  idea  of 
"  secular  history  "  is  almost  as  degraded  as  his  idea  of 
"  ecclesiastical." 

He  continues  :  "  There  is  nothing,  then,  primd  facie,  in 
"  the  miraculous  accounts  in  question  to  repel  a  proper  ly- 
"  taught  or  religiously-disposed  mind  :  "  only,  it  has  the 
right  of  rejecting  or  accepting  them  according  to  the 
evidence.  No  doubt ;  for  (as  he  himself  confesses)  Mabillon, 
like  many  sensible  Romanists,  has  found  some  of  these 
miracles  too  strong  for  his  "  acute  nostril,"  and  has,  there 
fore,  been  reproved  by  Basnage  for  "  not  fearing  for  himself, 
and  warning  the  reader." 

But  what  evidence  Dr.  Newman  requires,  he  makes 

03 


42       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

evident  at  once.    He,  at  least,  will  "  fear  for  himself,"  and 
swallow  the  whole  as  it  comes. 

"As  to  the  miracles  ascribed  to  St.  Walburga,  it  must 
11  be  remembered  that  she  is  one  of  the  principal  saints  of 
"  her  age  and  country  ;  "  and  then  he  goes  on  to  quote  the 
authorities  for  these  miracles.  They  begin  nearly  100  years 
after  her  death,  with  one  Wolf  hard,  a  monk.  Then  follows, 
more  than  400  years  after,  Philip,  Bishop  of  Aichstadt,  the 
disinterested  witness  who  tells  the  story  of  the  holy  oil 
ceasing  during  the  interdict,  who  tells  the  world  how, 
"  From  her  virgin  limbs,  maxime  pectoralibus,  flows  this 
"  sacred  oil,  which,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  the  inter  - 
"  cession  of  the  blessed  Virgin  Walburga,  illuminates  the 
"  blind,  makes  the  deaf  hear,"  &c.,  and  of  which  he  says 
that  he  himself  once  drank  a  whole  cup,  and  was  cured 
forthwith.  Then  come  the  nuns  of  this  same  place,  equally 
disinterested  witnesses,  after  the  invention  of  printing  ; 
then  one  Rader,  in  1615  ;  and  one  Gretser,  in  1620.  But 
what  has  become  of  the  holy  oil  for  the  last  240  years, 
Dr.  Newman  does  not  say. 

In  his  "  Lectures  on  the  present  position  of  Catholics  in 
England,  addressed  to  the  brothers  of  the  Oratory,"  in 
1851,  he  has  again  used  the  same  line  of  sophism.    Argu 
ment  I  cannot  call  it,  while  such  a  sentence  as  this  is  to  be 
found : — (p.  295)  "  Is  the  tower  of  London  shut  against 
'  sight-seers,  because  the  coats  of  mail  or  pikes  there  may 
'  have  half  legendary  tales  connected  with  them  ?    Why, 
'  then,  may  not  the  country  people  come  up  in  joyous 
'  companies,  singing  and  piping,  to  see  the  holy  coat  at 
'  Treves  ?  "    To  see,  forsooth  !    To  worship,  Dr.  Newman 
would  have  said,  had  he  known  (as  I  take  for  granted  he 
does  not)  the  facts  of  that  imposture.    He  himself,  mean 
while,  seems  hardly  sure  of  the  authenticity  of  the  holy 
coat.    He  (p.  298)  "  does  not  see  why  it  may  not  have  been 
what  it  professes  to  be."     It  may  "  have  been  "  so,  no 
doubt,  but  it  certainly  is  not  so  now  ;  for  the  very  texture 
and  material  of  the  thing  prove  it  to  be  spurious.    However, 
Dr.  Newman  "  firmly  believes  that  portions  of  the  true 
"  Cross  are  at  Rome  and  elsewhere,  that  the  crib  of  Bethle- 
"  hem  is  at  Rome,"  &c.    And  more  than  all ;   he  thinks  it 
<;  impossible  to  withstand  the  evidence  which  is  brought 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  43 

"  for  the  liquefaction  of  the  blood  of  St.  Januarius,  at 
"  Naples,  and  for  the  motion  of  the  eyes  of  the  pictures 
"  of  the  Madonna  in  the  Roman  States." 

How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven,  0  Lucifer,  son  of  the 
Morning  ! 

But  when  I  read  these  outrages  upon  common  sense,  what 
wonder  if  I  said  to  myself,  "  This  man  cannot  believe  what 
he  is  saying  ?  " 

I  believe  I  was  wrong.  I  have  tried,  as  far  as  I  can,  to 
imagine  to  myself  Dr.  Newman's  state  of  mind  ;  and  I  see 
now  the  possibility  of  a  man's  working  himself  into  that 
pitch  of  confusion,  that  he  can  persuade  himself,  by  what 
seems  to  him  logic,  of  anything  whatsoever  which  he  wishes 
to  believe  ;  and  of  his  carrying  self-deception  to  such 
perfection  that  it  becomes  a  sort  of  frantic  honesty,  in 
which  he  is  utterly  unconscious,  not  only  that  he  is  deceiving 
others,  but  that  he  is  deceiving  himself. 

But  I  must  say,  If  this  be  "historic  truth,"  what  is 
historic  falsehood  ?  If  this  be  honesty,  what  is  dishonesty  ? 
If  this  be  wisdom,  what  is  folly  ? 

I  may  be  told,  But  this  is  Roman  Catholic  doctrine.  You 
have  no  right  to  be  angry  with  Dr.  Newman  for  believing 
it.  I  answer,  this  is  not  Roman  Catholic  doctrine,  any  more 
than  belief  in  miraculous  appearances  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
or  the  miracle  of  the  stigmata,  on  which  two  matters  I  shall 
say  something  hereafter.  No  Roman  Catholic,  as  far  as 
I  am  aware,  is  bound  to  believe  these  things.  Dr.  Newman 
has  believed  them  of  his  own  free  will.  He  is  anxious,  it 
would  seem,  to  show  his  own  credulity.  He  has  worked  his 
mind,  it  would  seem,  into  that  morbid  state,  in  which 
nonsense  is  the  only  food  for  which  it  hungers.  Like  the 
sophists  of  old,  he  has  used  reason  to  destroy  reason.  I  had 
thought  that,  like  them,  he  had  preserved  his  own  reason, 
in  order  to  be  able  to  destroy  that  of  others.  But  I  was 
unjust  to  him,  as  he  says.  While  he  tried  to  destroy  others' 
reason,  he  was  at  least  fair  enough  to  destroy  his  own. 
That  is  all  that  I  can  say.  Too  many  prefer  the  charge 
of  insincerity  to  that  of  insipience — Dr.  Newman  seems  not 
to  be  of  that  number. 

But  more.  In  connexion  with  this  said  life  of  St.  Wal- 
burga,  Dr.  Newman  has  done  a  deed,  over  which  I  might 


44        "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

make  merry,  if  that  were  my  wish.    But  I  am  not  a  wit, 
like  Dr.  Newman. 

In  page  77,  we  find  the  following  wonderful  passage  : 

"  Illuminated  men  ...  to  them  the  evil  influence  of  Satanic 

'  power  is  horribly  discernible  .  .  .  and  the  only  way  to 

'  express  their  keen  perception  of  it  is  to  say,  that  they  see 

'  upon  the  countenances  of  the  slaves  of  sin,  the  marks,  and 

'  lineaments,  and  stamp  of  the  evil  one  ;    and  they  smell 

'  with  their  nostrils  the  horrible  fumes  which  arise  from 

'  their  vices  and  uncleansed  hearts,  driving  good  angels  from 

'  them  in  dismay,  and  attracting  and  delighting  devils. 

*  It  is  said  of  the  holy  Sturme,  a  disciple  and  companion  of 

'  Winfred,  that  in  passing  a  horde  of  unconverted  Germans, 

'  as  they  were  bathing  and  gambolling  in  a  stream,  he  was 

'  so  overpowered  by  the  intolerable  scent  which  arose  from 

'  them,  that  he  nearly  fainted  away.    And  no  doubt  such 

'  preternatural    discernments    are    sometimes    given    to 

'  saints  " — and   a  religious  reason  is  given  for  it  which 

I   shall   not    quote.     I    should   be   ashamed   to   use   the 

sacred   name    in   the    same    page   with  such  materialist 

nonsense. 

Now  this  "  no  doubt  "  seemed  as  convincing  to  Dr. 
Newman  as  to  the  author.  The  fly  which  his  disciple  had 
heedlessly  cast  over  the  turbid  waters  of  his  brain  was  too 
fine  to  be  resisted ;  and  he  rose  at  it,  heavily  but  surely, 
and  has  hooked  himself  past  remedy.  For  into  his  lectures, 
given  before  the  Catholic  University  of  Ireland,  published 
in  1859,  he  has  inserted,  at  page  96,  on  the  authority  of 
"  an  Oxford  writer,"  the  whole  passage  which  relates  to 
St.  Sturme,  word  for  word. 

I  thought,  when  I  was  in  my  former  mind  as  to 
Dr.  Newman,  that  he  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to  tell 
this  fable,  in  order  to  intimate  to  the  young  gentlemen 
who  had  the  blessing  of  his  instructions,  that  they  need 
care  nothing  for  "  truth  for  its  own  sake,"  in  the  investiga 
tion  of  a  miracle,  but  take  it  on  any  anonymous  authority, 
provided  only  it  made  for  the  Catholic  faith.  And  when 
I  saw  that  I  was  wrong,  I  was  sorely  puzzled  as  to  why 
my  old  friend  St.  Sturme  (against  whom  I  do  not  say  a 
word)  had  thus  been  dragged  unceremoniously  into  a  pas 
sage  on  National  Literature,  which  had  nothing  whatsoever 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  45 

to  do  with  him.    But  I  am  not  bound  to  find  motives  for 
Dr.  Newman's  eccentricities. 

But  now  comes  the  worst  part  of  the  matter.  Dr.  Newman 
Jjas  been  taken  in.  There  is  no  miracle.  There  never  was 
any  in  the  original  document.  There  is  none  in  Mabillon 
who  quotes  it.  It  is  a  sheer  invention  of  the  ardent  Oxford 
writer. 

The  story  appears  first  in  the  Life  of  St.  Sturme,  by  his 
contemporary  and  friend  St.  Eigils.  It  may  be  found  in 
Pertz's  "  Monumenta  Critica ; "  and  a  most  charming 
sketch  of  mediaeval  missionary  life  it  is  ;  all  the  more  so 
because  one  can  comfortably  believe  every  word  of  it,  from 
its  complete  freedom  (as  far  as  I  recollect)  from  signs  and 
wonders. 

The  original  passage  sets  forth  how  St.  Sturme  rides  on 
his  donkey,  and  wishing  for  a  place  where  to  found  Fulda 
Abbey,  came  to  a  ford  where  the  Sclavonians  (not  Germans, 
as  the  Oxford  writer  calls  them)  were  bathing,  on  the  way 
to  the  fair  at  Mentz,  "  whose  naked  bodies  the  animal  on 
"  which  he  rode  fearing,  began  to  tremble,  and  the  man  of 
"  God  himself  shuddered  (exhorruit]  at  their  evil  smell."  They 
mocked  him,  and  went  about  to  hurt  him  ;  but  Divine 
providence  kept  them  back,  and  he  went  on  in  safety. 

That  is  all.  There  is  not  a  hint  of  a  miracle.  A  horde  of 
dirty  savages,  who  had  not,  probably,  washed  for  a  twelve 
month,  smelt  very  strong,  and  St.  Sturme  had  a  nose.  As 
for  his  "  nearly  fainting  away,"  that  is  a  "  devout  imag 
ination." 

Really,  if  Dr.  Newman  or  the  "  Oxford  writer  "  had  been 
monks  of  more  than  one  Roman  Catholic  nation,  one  might 
have  excused  their  seeing  something  quite  miraculous  in 
any  man's  being  shocked  at  his  fellow-creatures'  evil  smell ; 
but  in  Oxford  gentlemen,  accustomed  to  the  use  of  soap 
and  water,  it  is  too  bad. 

Besides,  to  impute  a  miracle  in  this  case,  is  clearly  to  put 
the  saint,  in  virtue,  below  his  own  donkey ;  for  while  the 
saint  was  only  shocked  at  the  odour,  the  donkey  did  what 
the  saint  should  have  done  (in  imitation  of  many  other 
saints  before  and  since),  and  expressed  his  horror  at  the 
impropriety  of  the  deshabille  of  the  "  miscreants."  Unless 
we  are  to  understand  a  miracle — and  why  not  ? — in  the 


46       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ? '? 

donkey's  case  likewise  ;  not  indeed  expressed,  but  under 
stood  as  a  matter  of  course  by  "  properly-taiight  and 
religiously-disposed  minds  ;  "  and  piously  hold  that  the 
virtue  of  the  saint  (which  seems,  from  monkish  writing^ 
to  be  some  kind  of  gas  or  oil)  diffused  itself  through  the 
saddle  into  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  donkey's  frame,  and 
imbued  him  for  the  moment,  through  the  merits  of 
St.  Sturme,  with  a  preternatural  and  angelic  modesty  ? 

Which  if  we  shall  believe,  we  shall  believe  something 
not  a  whit  more  ridiculous  than  many  a  story  told  in  these 
hapless  volumes. 

What  can  I  say,  again,  of  Dr.  Newman's  "  Lectures  on 
Anglican  Difficulties,"  published  in  1850,  save  what  I  have 
said  already  ?  That  if  I,  like  hundreds  more,  have  mistaken 
his  meaning  and  intent,  he  must  blame  not  me,  but  himself. 
If  he  will  indulge  in  subtle  paradoxes,  in  rhetorical  exag 
gerations  ;  if,  whenever  he  touches  on  the  question  of 
truth  and  honesty,  he  will  take  a  perverse  pleasure  in 
saying  something  shocking  to  plain  English  notions,  he 
must  take  the  consequences  of  his  own  eccentricities. 

He  tells  us,   for  instance,   in  Lecture   VIII.   that  the 
Catholic  Church  "  holds  it  better  for  sun  and  moon  to  drop 
'  from  heaven,  for  the  earth  to  fail,  and  for  all  the  many 
'  millions  on  it  to  die  of  starvation  in  extremest  agony,  as 
{  far  as  temporal  affliction  goes,  than  that  one  soul,  I  will 
'  not  say  should  be  lost,  but  should  commit  one  single 
'  venial  sin,  should  tell  one  wilful  untruth,  or  should  steal 
'  one  poor  farthing  without  excuse."    And  this  in  the  face 
of  those  permissions  to   deception,   which  may  be   seen 
formalized  and  detailed  in  the  works  of  the  Romish  casuists, 
and  especially  in  those  of  the  great  Liguori,  whose  books 
have  received  the  public  and  solemn  sanction  of  the  Romish 
see.    In  one  only  way  can  Dr.  Newman  reconcile  this  pas 
sage  with  the  teaching  of  his  Church  ;   namely,  by  saying 
that  the  licence  given  to  equivocation,  even  on  oath,  is  so 
complete,  that  to  tell  a  downright  lie  is  the  most  superfluous 
and  therefore  most  wanton  of  all  sins. 

But  how  will  he  reconcile  it  with  the  statement  with 
which  we  meet  a  few  pages  on,  that  the  Church  "  considers 
"  consent,  though  quick  as  thought,  to  a  single  unchaste 
"  wish  as  indefinitely  more  heinous  than  any  lie  that  can 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  47 

"  possibly  be  fancied  ;  that  is  when  viewed,  of  course,  in 
"  itself,  and  apart  from  its  causes,  motives,  and  conse- 
"  quences  ?  "  Heaven  forbid  that  any  man  should  say 
that  such  consent  is  anything  save  a  great  and  mortal 
sin  :  but  how  can  we  reconcile  this  statement  with  the 
former  one,  save  by  the  paradox,  that  it  is  a  greater 
crime  to  sin  like  an  animal,  than  like  the  Devil  the 
Father  of  Lies  ? 

Indeed,  the  whole  teaching  of  this  lecture  and  the  one 
following  it  concerning  such  matters  is,  I  confess,  so  utterly 
beyond  my  comprehension,  that  I  must  ask,  in  blank 
astonishment,  What  does  Dr.  Newman  mean  ?  He  assures 
us  so  earnestly  and  indignantly  that  he  is  an  honest  man, 
believing  what  he  says,  that  we  in  return  are  bound,  in 
honour  and  humanity,  to  believe  him  ;  but  still — What  does 
he  mean  ? 

He  says  :  "  Take  a  mere  beggar  woman,  lazy,  ragged,  and 
"  filthy,  and  not  over-scrupulous  of  truth — (I  do  not  say  she 
"  has  arrived  at  perfection) — but  if  she  is  chaste,  sober,  and 
"  cheerful,  and  goes  to  her  religious  duties  (and  I  am  not 
"  supposing  at  all  an  impossible  case),  she  will,  in  the  eyes  of 
"  the  Church,  have  a  prospect  of  heaven,  quite  closed  and 
"  refused  to  the  State's  pattern-man,  the  just,  the  upright, 
"  the  generous,  the  honourable,  the  conscientious,  if  he  be 
"  all  this,  not  from  a  supernatural  power  (I  do  not  deter  - 
"  mine  whether  this  is  likely  to  be  the  fact,  but  I  am 
"  contrasting  views  and  principles) — not  from  a  super - 
"  natural  power,  but  from  mere  natural  virtue." 
(Lecture  viii.  p.  207.) 

I  must  ask  again,  What  does  Dr.  Newman  mean  by  this 
astounding  passage  ?  What  I  thought  that  he  meant,  when 
I  first  read  it,  some  twelve  years  ago,  may  be  guessed  easily 
enough.  I  said,  This  man  has  no  real  care  for  truth.  Truth 
for  its  own  sake  is  no  virtue  in  his  eyes,  and  he  teaches  that 
it  need  not  be.  I  do  not  say  that  now  :  but  this  I  say,  that 
Dr.  Newman,  for  the  sake  of  exalting  the  magical  powers  of 
his  Church,  has  committed  himself  unconsciously  to  a  state 
ment  which  strikes  at  the  root  of  all  morality.  If  he  answer, 
that  such  is  the  doctrine  of  his  Church  concerning  "  natural 
virtues,"  as  distinguished  from  "  good  works  performed  by 
God's  grace,"  I  can  only  answer,  So  much  the  worse  for  his 


48   "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

Church.  The  sooner  it  is  civilized  off  the  face  of  the  earth, 
if  this  be  its  teaching,  the  better  for  mankind.  For  as  for 
his  theory  that  it  may  be  a  "  natural  virtue,"  I  value  it  as 
little  as  I  trust  every  honest  Englishman  will  do.  I  hold  it 
to  be  utterly  antiscriptural ;  to  border  very  closely  (in 
theological  language)  on  the  Pelagian  heresy.  Every  good 
gift  and  every  perfect  gift  comes  down  from  God  above. 
Without  Him  no  man  does  a  right  deed,  or  thinks  a  right 
thought ;  and  when  Dr.  Newman  says  otherwise,  he  is 
doing  his  best  (as  in  this  passage)  to  make  the  "  State's 
pattern-man  "  an  atheist,  as  well  as  to  keep  the  beggar- 
woman  a  lying  barbarian.  What  Dr.  Newman  may  have 
meant  to  teach  by  these  words,  I  cannot  say  ;  but  what 
he  has  taught  practically  is  patent.  He  has  taught  the 
whole  Celtic  Irish  population,  that  as  long  as  they  are 
chaste  (which  they  cannot  well  help  being,  being  married 
almost  before  they  are  men  and  women)  and  sober  (which 
they  cannot  well  help  being,  being  too  poor  to  get  enough 
whisky  to  make  them  drunk),  and  "go  to  their  religious 
duties  " — an  expression  on  which  I  make  no  comment — 
they  may  look  down  upon  the  Protestant  gentry  who  send 
over  millions  to  feed  them  in  famine  ;  who  found  hospitals 
and  charities  to  which  they  are  admitted  freely ;  who  try 
to  introduce  among  them  capital,  industry,  civilization,  and, 
above  all,  that  habit  of  speaking  the  truth,  for  want  of 
which  they  are  what  they  are,  and  are  likely  to  remain  such, 
as  long  as  they  have  Dr.  Newman  for  their  teacher — that 
they  may  look  down,  I  say,  on  the  Protestant  gentry  as 
cut  off  from  God,  and  without  hope  of  heaven,  because 
they  do  their  duty  by  mere  "  natural  virtue." 

And  Dr.  Newman  has  taught  them,  too,  in  the  very  same 
page,1  that  they  may  confess  "  to  the  priest  thefts  which 

would  sentence  the  penitent  to  transportation  if  brought 
"  into  a  court  of  justice  ;  but  which  the  priest  knows  too  " 
(and  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  priest  is  bound  to 
conceal  his  knowledge  of  the  crime),  "  in  the  judgment  of 
"  the  Church,  might  be  pardoned  on  the  man's  private 
"  contrition,  without  any  confession  at  all." 

If  I  said  that  Dr.  Newman  has,  in  this  page,  justified, 

1  P.  207. 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  49 

formally  and  deliberately,  some  of  the  strongest  accusations 
brought  by  the  Exeter  Hall  party  against  the  Irish  priests, 
I  should  be  answered  (and  possibly  with  temporary  success) 
by  some  of  those  ingenious  special  pleadings  with  which,  in 
spite  of  plain  fact  and  universal  public  opinion,  black  is 
made  to  appear,  if  not  white,  yet  still  grey  enough  to  do 
instead.  But  this  I  will  say,  that  if  the  Roman  Catholic 
hierarchy  in  these  realms  had  had  any  sense  of  their  own 
interests  (as  far  as  standing  well  with  the  British  nation  is 
concerned),  they  would,  instead  of  sending  the  man  who 
wrote  those  words  to  teach  in  an  Irish  Catholic  university, 
have  sent  him  to  their  furthest  mission  among  the  savages 
of  the  South  Seas. 

The  next  lecture,  the  ninth,  contains  matter  more  liable 
still  to  be  mistaken  ;  and  equally  certain,  mistaken  or  not, 
to  shock  common  sense.  It  is  called,  "  The  Religious 
"  Character  of  Catholic  Countries  no  Prejudice  to  the 
"  Sanctity  of  the  Church."  By  the  religious  character,  we 
find,  is  meant  what  we  should  call  the  irreligious  character — 
the  tendency  to  profanity,  blasphemy,  imposture,  stealing, 
lying.  These  are  not  my  accusations,  but  Dr.  Newman's. 
He  details  them  all  with  charming  naivete,  and  gives  (as 
we  shall  see)  most  picturesque  and  apposite  instances. 
But  this,  he  holds  "is  no  prejudice  to  the  sanctity  of  the 
Church,"  because  the  Church  considers  that  "  faith  and 
works  are  separable,"  and  that  all  these  poor  wretches, 
though  they  have  not  works,  have  at  least  faith,  "  caused 
directly  by  a  supernatural  influence  from  above,"  and  are, 
therefore,  unless  I  have  lost  utterly  the  clue  to  the  intent 
of  Dr.  Newman's  sophistries,  ipso  facto  infinitely  better  off 
than  Protestants.  What  he  means  by  the  separableness 
of  faith  and  works  is  clear  enough.  A  man,  he  says,  "  may 
''  be  gifted  with  a  simple,  undoubting,  cloudless,  belief  that 
'  Christ  is  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  yet  commit  the 
'  sacrilege  of  breaking  open  the  tabernacle,  and  carrying 
'  off  the  consecrated  particles  for  the  sake  of  the  precious 
'  vessel  containing  them." 

At  which  most  of  my  readers  will  be  inclined  to  cry  : 
1  Let  Dr.  Newman  alone,  after  that.  What  use  in  arguing 
'  with  a  man  who  has  argued  himself  into  believing  that  ? 
'  He  had  a  human  reason  once,  no  doubt :  but  he  has 


50       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

"  gambled  it  away,  and  left  no  common  ground  on  which 
"  he  and  you,  or  we  either,  can  meet  him." 

True  :  so  true,  that  I  never  would  have  written  these 
pages,  save  because  it  was  my  duty  to  show  the  world,  if 
not  Dr.  Newman,  how  the  mistake  of  his  not  caring  for 
truth  arose  ;  and  specially  how  this  very  lecture  fostered 
that  mistake.  For  in  it,  after  using  the  blasphemy  and 
profanity  which  he  confesses  to  be  so  common  in  Catholic 
countries,  as  an  argument  for,  and  not  against,  the 
"  Catholic  Faith,"  he  takes  a  seeming  pleasure  in  detailing 
instances  of  dishonesty  on  the  part  of  Catholics,  as  if  that 
were  the  very  form  of  antinomianism  which  was  most 
strongly  and  perpetually  present  to  his  mind,  and  which 
needed  most  to  be  palliated  and  excused.  "  The  feeble  old 
"woman,  who  first  genuflects  before  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
"  ment,  and  then  steals  her  neighbour's  handkerchief  or 
"  prayer-book,  who  is  intent  on  his  devotions  " — she  is 
very  wrong,  no  doubt  :  but  "  she  worships,  and  she  sins  : 
"  she  kneels  because  she  believes  ;  she  steals  because  she 
"  does  not  love.  She  may  be  out  of  God's  grace  ;  she  is 
"  not  altogether  out  of  His  sight." 

Heaven  forbid  that  we  should  deny  those  words.  That, 
at  least,  is  a  doctrine  common  to  Romanist  and  to  Protes 
tant  :  but  while  Dr.  Newman,  with  a  kind  of  desperate 
audacity,  will  dig  forth  such  scandals  as  notes  of  the 
"  Catholic  Church,"  he  must  not  wonder  at  his  motive  for 
so  doing  being  mistaken. 

His  next  instance  is  even  more  wanton  and  offensive, 
and  so  curious  that  I  must  quote  it  at  length  : — • 

"  You  come  out  again  and  mix  in  the  idle  and  dissipated 
"  throng,  and  you  fall  in  with  a  man  in  a  palmer's  dress, 
"  selling  false  relics,  and  a  credulous  circle  of  customers 
"  buying  them  as  greedily,  as  though  they  were  the  supposed 
"  French  laces  and  India  silks  of  a  pedlar's  basket.  One 
"  simple  soul  has  bought  of  him  a  cure  for  the  rheumatism  or 
"  ague,  which  might  form  a  case  of  conscience.  It  is  said  to 
"  be  a  relic  of  St.  Cuthbert,  but  only  has  virtue  at  sunrise, 
"  and  when  applied  with  three  crosses  to  the  head,  arms, 
"  and  feet.  You  pass  on  to  encounter  a  rude  son  of  the 
"  Church,  more  like  a  showman  than  a  religious,  recounting 
"  to  the  gaping  multitude  some  tale  of  a  vision  of  the 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  51 

9 

"  invisible  world,  seen  by  Brother  Augustine  of  the  Friar 
"^  Minors,  or  by  a  holy  Jesuit  preacher  who  died  in  the 
"  odour  of  sanctity,  and  sending  round  his  bag  to  collect 
"  pence  for  the  souls  in  purgatory  ;  and  of  some  appearance 
"  of  Our  Lady  (the  like  of  which  has  really  been  before  and 
"  since),  but  on  no  authority  except  popular  report,  and  in 
"  no  shape  but  that  which  popular  caprice  has  given  it. 
'  You  go  forward,  and  you  find  preparations  proceeding 
"  f or  a  great  pageant  or  mystery  ;  it  is  a  high  festival,  and 
"  the  incorporated  trades  have  each  undertaken  their 
"  special  religious  celebration.  The  plumbers  and  glaziers 
"  are  to  play  the  Creation ;  the  barbers  the  call  of  Abraham ; 
"  and  at  night  is  to  be  the  grandest  performance  of  all,  the 
"  Resurrection  and  Last  Judgment,  played  by  the  car- 
'  penters,  masons,  and  blacksmiths.  Heaven  and  hell  are 
'  represented, — saints,  devils,  and  living  men ;  and  the 
'  chefd'&uvre  of  the  exhibition  is  the  display  of  fireworks  to 
'  be  let  off  as  the  finale.  'How  unutterably  profane ! '  again 
|  you  cry.  Yes,  profane  to  you,  my  dear  brother — profane 
'  to  a  population  which  only  half  believes  ;  not  profane  to 
'  those  who  believe  wholly,  who  one  and  all  have  a  vision 
'  within  which  corresponds  with  what  they  see,  which 
'  resolves  itself  into,  or  rather  takes  up  into  itself,  the 
'  external  pageant,  whatever  be  the  moral  condition  of 
'  each  individual  composing  the  mass.  They  gaze,  and  in 
'  drinking  in  the  exhibition  with  their  eyes  they  are  making 
'  one  continuous  and  intense  act  of  faith  "  (Lecture  IX. 
236,  237). 

The  sum  of  which  is,  that  for  the  sake  of  the  "  one  con 
tinuous  and  intense  act  of  faith  "  which  the  crowd  is 
performing,  "  the  rude  son  of  the  Church,  more  like  a  show 
man  than  a  religious  " — in  plain  English,  the  brutal  and 
lying  monk,  is  allowed  to  continue  his  impostures  without 
interruption ;  and  the  moral  which  Dr.  Newman  draws  is, 
that  though  his  miraculous  appearance  of  our  Lady  may 
be  a  lie,  yet  "the  like  thereof  has  been  before  and 
since," 

After  which  follows  a  passage — of  which  I  shall  boldly 
say,  that  I  trust  that  it  will  arouse  in  every  English  husband, 
father,  and  brother,  who  may  read  these  words,  the  same 
feelings  which  it  roused  in  me  ;  and  express  my  opinion, 


52       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

that  it  is  a  better  compliment  to  Dr.  Newman  to  think  that 
he  did  not  believe  what  he  said,  than  to  think  that  he  did 
believe  it  : — 

"  You  turn  to  go  home,  and  in  your  way  you  pass  through 
1  a  retired  quarter  of  the  city.  Look  up  at  those  sacred 
'  windows  ;  they  belong  to  the  Convent  of  the  Perpetual 
'  Adoration,  or  to  the  poor  Clares,  or  to  the  Carmelites  of 
'  the  Reform  of  St.  Theresa,  or  to  the  Nuns  of  the  Visita- 
'  tion.  Seclusion,  silence,  watching,  adoration,  is  their  life 
'  day  and  night.  The  Immaculate  Lamb  of  God  is  ever 
'  before  the  eyes  of  the  worshippers  ;  or,  at  least,  the 
'  invisible  mysteries  of  faith  ever  stand  out,  as  if  in  bodily 
'  shape,  before  their  mental  gaze.  Where  will  you  find  such 
'  a  realized  heaven  upon  earth  ?  Yet  that  very  sight  has 
'  acted  otherwise  on  the  mind  of  a  weak  sister  ;  and  the 
'  very  keenness  of  her  faith  and  wild  desire  of  approaching 
'  the  object  of  it  has  led  her  to  fancy  or  to  feign  that  she 
'  has  received  that  singular  favour  vouchsafed  only  to 
'  a  few  elect  souls  ;  and  she  points  to  God's  wounds,  as 
'  imprinted  on  her  hand,  and  feet,  and  side,  though  she 
'  herself  has  been  instrumental  in  their  formation " 
(Lecture  IX.  237,  238) 

There  are  occasions  on  which  courtesy  or  reticence  is  a 
crime,  and  this  one  of  them.  A  poor  girl,  cajoled,  flattered, 
imprisoned,  starved,  maddened,  by  such  as  Dr.  Newman  and 
his  peers,  into  that  degrading  and  demoralising  disease, 
hysteria,  imitates  on  her  own  body,  from  that  strange  vanity 
and  deceit  which  too  often  accompany  the  complaint,  the 
wounds  of  our  Lord  ;  and  all  that  Dr.  Newman  has  to  say 
about  the  matter  is,  to  inform  us  that  the  gross  and  useless 
portent  is  "  a  singular  favour  vouchsafed  only  to  a  few  elect 
souls."  And  this  is  the  man  who,  when  accused  of  coun 
tenancing  falsehood,  puts  on  first  a  tone  of  plaintive  and 
startled  innocence,  and  then  one  of  smug  self-satisfaction — 
as  who  should  ask,  "  What  have  I  said  ?  What  have  I 
done  ?  Why  am  I  upon  my  trial  ?  "  On  his  trial  ?  If  he 
be  on  his  trial  for  nothing  else,  he  is  on  his  trial  for  those 
words  ;  and  he  will  remain  upon  his  trial  as  long  as  English 
men  know  how  to  guard  the  women  whom  God  has  com 
mitted  to  their  charge.  If  the  British  public  shall  ever  need 
informing  that  Dr.  Newman  wrote  that  passage,  I  trust 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  53 

there  will  be  always  one  man  left  in  England  to  inform  them 
of  the  fact,  for  the  sake  of  the  ladies  of  this  land. 

Perhaps  the  most  astounding  specimens  of  Dr.  Newman's 
teaching  are  to  be  found,  after  all,  in  the  two  sermons  which 
end  his  "  Discourses  addressed  to  Mixed  Congregations," 
published  in  1849  ;  "  The  Glories  of  Mary  for  the  sake  of 
her  Son ;  "  and  "  On  the  fitness  of  the  Glories  of  Mary." 
Of  the  mis-quotations  of  Scripture,  of  the  sophisms  piled  on 
sophisms,  of  these  two  sermons,  I  have  no  room  wherein  to 
give  specimens.  All  I  ask  is,  that  they  should  be  read  ; 
read  by  every  man  who  thinks  it  any  credit  to  himself  to  be 
a  rational  being.  But  two  culminating  wonders  of  these 
two  sermons  I  must  point  out.  The  first  is  the  assertion 
that  the  Blessed  Virgin  "  had  been  inspired,  the  first  of 
womankind,  to  dedicate  her  virginity  to  God."  As  if  there 
had  not  been  Buddhist  nuns  (if  not  others)  centuries  before 
Christianity.  As  if  (allowing  the  argument  that  they 
dedicated  their  virginity  to  a  false  God)  there  were  the 
slightest  historic  proof  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  dedicated  hers 
before  the  Incarnation.  The  second  is  in  a  sermon  which 
professes  to  prove  logically  the  "  fitness  "  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  and  is  filled  (instead  of  logic)  with  traditions 
which  are  utterly  baseless.  I  allude  to  the  assertion  that 
"the  world" — i.e.  all  who  do  not  belong  to  the  Romish 
Church — "  blasphemes "  Mary.  I  make  no  comment. 
All  I  ask,  again,  of  my  readers  is,  to  read  these  two 
sermons. 

But  what,  after  all,  does  Dr.  Newman  teach  concerning 
truth  ?  What  he  taught  in  1843,  and  what  he  (as  far  as 
I  can  see)  teaches  still,  may  be  seen  in  his  last  sermon  in 
a  volume  entitled  "  Chiefly  on  the  Theory  of  Religious 
Belief,"  called  a  sermon  "  On  the  Theory  of  Developments 
in  Religious  Doctrine."  I  beg  all  who  are  interested  in  this 
question  to  read  that  sermon  (which  I  had  overlooked  till 
lately)  ;  and  to  judge  for  themselves  whether  I  exaggerate 
when  I  say  that  it  tries  to  undermine  the  grounds  of  all 
rational  belief  for  the  purpose  of  substituting  blind  super 
stition.  As  examples  : — speaking  of  "  certain  narratives  of 
martyrdoms,"  and  "  alleged  miracles,"  he  says  (p.  345)  : 
"  If  the  alleged  facts  did  not  occur,  they  ought  to  have 
"  occurred,  if  I  may  so  speak."  Historic  truth  is  thus 


54       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

sapped  ;  and  physical  truth  fares  no  better.  "  Scripture 
"  says  (p.  350)  that  the  sun  moves,  and  that  the  earth  is 
"  stationary  ;  and  science  that  the  earth  moves,  and  the 
"  sun  is  comparatively  at  rest.  How  can  we  determine 
"  which  of  these  statements  is  the  very  truth,  till  we  know 
"  what  motion  is  ?  If  our  idea  of  motion  be  but  an  accident 
"  of  our  present  senses  neither  proposition  is  true,  and  both 
"  are  true  ;  neither  true  philosophically,  both  true  for 
"  certain  purposes  in  the  system  in  which  they  are  respec- 
"  tively  found  ;  and  physical  science  will  have  no  better 
"  meaning  when  it  says  that  the  earth  moves,  than  plain 
"  astronomy  when  it  says  that  the  earth  is  still." 

Quorsum  hsec  ?  What  is  the  intent  of  this  seemingly 
sceptic  method,  pursued  through  page  after  page  ?  To  tell 
us  that  we  can  know  nothing  certainly,  and  therefore  must 
take  blindly  what  '  The  Church  '  shall  choose  to  teach  us. 
For  the  Church,  it  would  seem,  is  not  bound  to  tell  us, 
indeed  cannot  tell  us,  the  whole  truth.  We  are  to  be 
treated  like  children,  to  whom  (at  least  to  those  with  whom 
Dr.  Newman  has  come  in  contact)  it  is  necessary  to  (p.  343) 
"  dispense  and  '  divide  '  the  word  of  truth,  if  we  would  not 
"  have  it  changed,  as  far  as  they  are  concerned,  into  a  word 
"  of  falsehood."  "  And  so,  again,  as  regards  savages,  or 
"  the  ignorant,  or  weak,  or  narrow-minded,  our  repre- 
"  sentations  must  take  a  certain  form,  if  we  are  to  gain 
"  admission  into  then:  minds  at  all,  and  to  reach  them." 

This  method  of  teaching  by  half-truths  Dr.  Newman  calls 
"  economy ;  "  and  justifies  it  (if  I  understand  his  drift),  by 
the  instances  of  "  mythical  representations,"  legends,  and 
so  forth,  "  which,  if  they  did  not  occur,  ought  to  have 
occurred."  "  Many  a  theory  or  view  of  things," — he  goes 
on — (p.  345)  "  on  which  an  institution  is  founded,  or  a  party 
"  held  together,  is  of  the  same  kind.  Many  an  argument, 
"  used  by  zealous  and  earnest  men,  has  this  economical 
"  character,  being  not  the  very  ground  on  which  they  act 
"  (for  they  continue  in  the  same  course,  though  it  be 
"  refuted),  yet,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  representation  of  it, 
"  a  proximate  description  of  their  feelings  in  the  shape  of 
"  argument,  on  which  they  can  rest,  to  which  they  can 
"  recur  when  perplexed,  and  appeal  when  they  are  ques- 
"  tioned."  After  which  startling  words,  Dr.  Newman  says 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  55 

— and  it  is  really  high  time — "  In  this  reference  to  accom- 
"  modation  or  economy  in  human  affairs,  I  do  not  meddle 
"  with  the  question  of  casuistry,  viz.  which  of  such  artifices, 
"  as  it  may  be  called,  are  innocent,  or  where  the  '  line  is  to 
"be  drawn/  " 

A  hasty  reader  might  say,  that  herein  is  an  open  justifi 
cation  of  equivocation  and  dishonest  reticence.  But  he 
would  be  mistaken.  The  whole  sermon  is  written  in  so 
tentative  a  style,  that  it  would  be  rash  and  wrong  to  say 
that  Dr.  Newman  intends  to  convey  any  lesson  by  it,  save 
that  the  discovery  of  truth  is  an  impossibility.  Only  once, 
and  in  a  note,  he  speaks  out.  P.  342. 

"  Hence  it  is  not  more  than  an  hyperbole  to  say  that,  in 
"  certain  cases,  a  lie  is  the  nearest  approach  to  truth.  This 
"  seems  the  meaning,  for  instance,  of  St.  Clement,  when  he 
"t  says  '  He  (the  Christian)  both  thinks  and  speaks  the  truth, 

'  unless  when,  at  any  time,  in  the  way  of  treatment,  as 

'  a  physician  toward  his  patients,  so  for  the  welfare  of  the 

'  sick  he  will  be  false,  or  will  tell  a  falsehood,  as  the 

'  sophists  speak.' ' 

If  St.  Clement  said  that,  so  much  the  worse  for  him.  He 
was  a  great  and  good  man.  But  he  might  have  learned 
from  his  Bible  that  no  lie  was  of  the  truth,  and  that  it  is  ill 
stealing  the  devil's  tools  to  do  God's  work  withal. 

Be  that  as  it  may.  What  Dr.  Newman  teaches  is  clear 
at  last,  and  I  see  now  how  deeply  I  have  wronged  him.  So 
far  from  thinking  truth  for  its  own  sake  to  be  no  virtue,  he 
considers  it  a  virtue  so  lofty,  as  to  be  unattainable  by  man, 
who  must  therefore,  in  certain  cases,  take  up  with  what-it-is- 
no-more-than-a-hyperbole-to-call  lies ;  and  who,  if  he 
should  be  so  lucky  as  to  get  any  truth  into  his  possession, 
will  be  wise  in  "  economizing  "  the  same,  and  "  dividing  it," 
so  giving  away  a  bit  here  and  a  bit  there,  lest  he  should 
waste  so  precious  a  possession. 

That  this  is  Dr.  Newman's  opinion  at  present,  there  can 
be  no  manner  of  doubt.  What  he  has  persuaded  himself 
to  believe  about  St.  Walburga's  oil,  St.  Sturme's  nose, 
St.  Januarius'  blood,  and  the  winking  Madonna's  eyes, 
proves  sufficiently  that  he  still  finds,  in  certain  cases,  what- 
it-is-no-more-than-a-hyperbole-to-call  lies,  the  nearest  ap 
proach  which  he  can  make  to  truth  ;  while,  as  to  the  right 


56       "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

of  economizing  and  dividing  truth,  I  shall  shortly  bring 
forward  two  instances  of  his  having  done  so  to  such  an 
extent,  that  very  little  of  poor  truth  remains  after  the 
dismemberment . 

And  yet  I  do  not  call  this  conscious  dishonesty.  The 
man  who  wrote  that  sermon  was  already  past  the  possibility 
of  such  a  sin.  It  is  simple  credulity,  the  child  of  scepticism. 
Credulity,  frightened  at  itself,  trying  to  hide  its  absurdity 
alike  from  itself  and  from  the  world  by  quibbles  and 
reticences  which  it  thinks  prudent  and  clever  ;  and,  like 
the  hunted  ostrich,  fancying  that  because  it  thrusts  its  head 
into  the  sand,  its  whole  body  is  invisible. 

And  now,  I  have  tried  to  lead  my  readers  along  a  path 
to  which  some  of  them,  I  fear,  have  objected. 

They  have  fallen,  perhaps,  into  the  prevailing  superstition 
that  cleverness  is  synonymous  with  wisdom.  They  cannot 
believe  that  (as  is  too  certain)  great  literary,  and  even 
barristerial  ability,  may  co -exist  with  almost  boundless 
silliness  :  but  I  can  find  no  other  explanation  of  the  phe 
nomena  than  that  which  I  have  just  given.  That  Dr.  New 
man  thinks  that  there  is  no  harm  in  "  economy,"  and 
"  dividing  the  truth,"  is  evident ;  for  he  has  employed  it 
again  in  his  comments  on  the  correspondence.  He  has 
employed  twice,  as  the  most  natural  and  innocent  thing 
possible,  those  "  arts  of  the  defenceless  "  which  require  so 
much  delicacy  in  the  handling,  lest  "  liberal  shepherds  give 
a  grosser  name,"  and  call  them  cunning,  or  even  worse. 

I  am,  of  course,  free  to  make  my  own  comments  on  them, 
as  on  all  other  words  of  Dr.  Newman's  printed  since  the 
1st  of  February,  1864,  on  which  day  my  apology  was  pub 
lished.  I  shall  certainly  take  the  sense  of  the  British  public 
on  the  matter.  Though  Dr.  Newman  may  be  "  a  mystery  " 
to  them,  as  he  says  "  religious  men  "  always  are  to  the  world, 
yet  they  possess  quite  common  sense  enough  to  see  what  his 
words  are,  even  though  his  intention  be,  as  it  is  wont  to  be, 
obscure. 

They  recollect  the  definitions  of  the  "  Church  "  and 
"  Christians,"  on  the  ground  of  which  I  called  Sermon  XX. 
a  Romish  sermon  ? 

Dr.  Newman  does  not  apply  to  it  that  epithet.  He 
called  it,  in  his  letter  to  me  of  the  7th  of  January  (published 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  57 

by  him),  a  "  Protestant "  one.  I  remarked  that,  but 
considered  it  a  mere  slip  of  the  pen.  Besides,  I  have  now 
nothing  to  say  to  that  letter.  It  is  to  his  "  Reflexions  "  in 
page  20  which  are  open  ground  to  me,  that  I  refer.  In  them 
he  deliberately  repeats  the  epithet  "  Protestant :  "  only  he, 
in  an  utterly  imaginary  conversation,  puts  it  into  my 
mouth,  "  which  you  preached  when  a  Protestant."  I  call 
the  man  who  preached  that  sermon  a  Protestant  ?  I  should 
have  sooner  called  him  a  Buddhist.  At  that  very  time  he 
was  teaching  his  disciples  to  scorn  and  repudiate  that  name 
of  Protestant,  under  which,  for  some  reason  or  other,  he 
now  finds  it  convenient  to  take  shelter.  If  he  forgets,  the 
world  does  not,  the  famous  article  in  the  British  Critic  (the 
then  organ  of  his  party),  of  three  years  before — July,  1841— 
which,  after  denouncing  the  name  of  Protestant,  declared 
the  object  of  the  party  to  be  none  other  than  the  "Unpro- 
testantising  "  the  English  Church. 

But  Dr.  Newman  convicts  himself.  In  the  sermon  before, 
as  I  have  shown,  monks  and  nuns  are  spoken  of  as  the  only 
true  Bible  Christians,  and  in  the  sermon  itself  a  celibate 
clergy  is  made  a  note  of  the  Church.  And  yet  Dr.  Newman 
goes  on  to  say  that  he  was  not  then  "a  priest,  speaking  of 
priests."  Whether  he  were  a  priest  himself  matters  little 
to  the  question  ;  but  if  he  were  not  speaking  of  priests,  and 
those  Romish  ones,  when  he  spoke  of  a  celibate  clergy,  of 
whom  was  he  speaking  ?  But  there  is  no  use  in  wasting 
words  on  this  "  economical  "  statement  of  Dr.  Newman's. 
I  shall  only  say  that  there  are  people  in  the  world  whom  it 
is  very  difficult  to  help.  As  soon  as  they  are  got  out  of  one 
scrape,  they  walk  straight  into  another. 

But  Dr.  Newman  has  made,  in  my  opinion,  another  and 
a  still  greater  mistake.  He  has  committed,  on  the  very 
title-page  of  his  pamphlet,  an  "  economy  "  which  some  men 
will  consider  a  very  serious  offence.  He  has  there  stated 
that  the  question  is,  "  Whether  Dr.  Newman  teaches  that 
truth  is  no  virtue/3  He  has  repeated  this  misrepresentation 
in  a  still  stronger  form  at  page  20,  where  he  has  ventured  to 
represent  me  as  saying  "  Dr.  Newman  tells  us  that  lying  is 
never  any  harm."  He  has  economised  the  very  four  words 
of  my  accusation,  which  make  it  at  least  a  reasonable  one  ; 
namely — "  For  its  own  sake." 


58    "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

I  never  said  what  he  makes  me  say,  or  anything  like  it. 
I  never  was  inclined  to  say  it.  Had  I  ever  been,  I  should 
be  still  more  inclined  to  say  it  now. 

But  Dr.  Newman  has  shown  "  wisdom  "  enough  of  that 
serpentine  type  which  is  his  professed  ideal  in  what  he  has 
done,  and  has  been  so  economic  of  truth,  and  "  divided  " 
the  truth  so  thoroughly,  that  really  there  is  very  little  of  it 
left. 

For  while  no  one  knew  better  than  he  the  importance  of 
the  omission,  none  knew  better  that  the  public  would  not  do 
so  ;  that  they  would  never  observe  it ;  that,  if  I  called 
their  attention  to  it,  they  would  smile,  and  accuse  me  of 
word-splitting  and  raising  metaphysical  subtleties.  Yes, 
Dr.  Newman  is  a  very  economical  person.  So,  when  I  had 
accused  him  and  the  Romish  clergy  of  teaching  that  "  truth 
is  no  virtue,  for  its  own  sake,"  he  simply  economised  the 
last  four  words,  and  said  that  I  accused  him  and  them  of 
teaching  that  "  truth  is  no  virtue." 

This,  in  Dr.  Newman,  the  subtle  dialectician,  is,  indeed,  an 
"  enormity,"  as  he  chooses  to  call  my  accusation  of  him. 
No  one  better  knows  the  value  of  such  limitations.  No 
one  has,  sometimes  fairly,  sometimes  unfairly,  made  more 
use  of  them.  No  man,  therefore,  ought  to  have  been  more 
careful  of  doing  what  he  has  done. 

Dr.  Newman  tries,  by  cunning  sleight-of-hand  logic,  to 
prove  that  I  did  not  believe  the  accusation  when  I  made  it. 
Therein  he  is  mistaken.  I  did  believe  it,  and  I  believed,  also, 
his  indignant  denial.  But  when  he  goes  on  to  ask,  with 
sneers,  Why  I  should  believe  his  denial,  if  I  did  not  consider 
him  trustworthy  in  the  first  instance  ? — I  can  only  answer, 
I  really  do  not  know.  There  is  a  great  deal  to  be  said  for 
that  view,  now  that  Dr.  Newman  has  become  (one  must 
needs  suppose)  suddenly,  and  since  the  1st  of  February, 
1864,  a  convert  to  the  economic  views  of  St.  Alfonso  da 
Liguori  and  his  compeers.  I  am  henceforth  in  doubt  and 
fear,  as  much  as  an  honest  man  can  be,  concerning  every 
word  Dr.  Newman  may  write.  How  can  I  tell  that  I  shall 
not  be  the  dupe  of  some  cunning  equivocation,  of  one  of 
the  three  kinds  laid  down  as  permissible  by  the  blessed 
St.  Alfonso  da  Liguori  and  his  pupils  even  when  confirmed 
with  an  oath,  because  "  then  we  do  not  deceive  our  neigh- 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  59 

hour,  but  allow  him  to  deceive  himself  "  ?  1 — The  whole 
being  justified  by  the  example  of  Christ,  "  who  answered, 

'  I  go  not  up  to  this  feast/  subintelligendo,  '  openly.'  ' 
"  For,"  say  the  casuists,  "  if  there  were  no  such  restrictions 
"  (on  the  telhng  of  truth),  there  would  be  no  means  of  con- 
"  ceahng  secrets,  which  one  could  not  open  without  loss  or 
"  inconvenience  ;  but  this  would  be  no  less  pernicious  to 
"  human  society  than  a  lie  itself."  It  is  admissible,  there 
fore,  to  use  words  and  sentences  which  have  a  double 
signification,  and  leave  the  hapless  hearer  to  take  which  of 
them  he  may  choose.  What  proof  have  I,  then,  that  by 
"  mean  it !  I  never  said  it  "  !  Dr.  Newman  does  not 
signify,  "  I  did  not  say  it :  but  I  did  mean  it  "  ? 

Or  again,  how  can  I  tell  that  I  may  not  in  this  pamphlet 
have  made  an  accusation,  of  the  truth  of  which  Dr.  Newman 
is  perfectly  conscious  ;  but  that  as  I,  a  heretic  Protestant, 
have  no  business  to  make  it,  he  has  a  full  right  to  deny  it  ? 
For  what  says  Neyraguet,  after  the  blessed  St.  Alfonso  da 
Liguori  ?  That  "  a  criminal  or  witness,  being  interrogated 
"  by  a  judge  contrary  to  law,  may  swear  that  he  knows  not 
"  of  the  crime  ;  meaning,  that  he  knows  not  of  a  crime 
"  of  which  he  may  be  lawfully  questioned." 

These  are  hard  words.  If  Dr.  Newman  shall  complain  of 
them,  I  can  only  remind  him  of  the  fate  which  befel  the 
stork  caught  among  the  cranes,  even  though  the  stork  had 
not  done  all  he  could  to  make  himself  like  a  crane,  as 
Dr.  Newman  has,  by  "  economising  "  on  the  very  title-page 
of  his  pamphlet. 

I  know  perfectly  well  that  truth — "  veracity,  as  they  call 
it  " — is  a  virtue  with  the  Romish  moralists  ;  that  it  is  one 
of  the  cardinal  virtues,  the  daughters  of  justice,  like  benevo 
lence,  courtesy,  gratitude,  and  so  forth  ;   and  is  proved  to 
be  such  because  there  is  a  naturalis  honestas  in  it,  and  also 
that  without  it  society  could  not  go  on.    Lying,  on  the  other 
hand,  though  not  one  of  the  seven  "  capital "  sins,  which 
are  pride,  avarice,  luxury  (unchastity),  gluttony,  anger, 
envy,  and*  acedia  (lukewarmness),  is  yet  held  to  be  always 

I 1  quote  from  Scavini,  torn.  ii.  page  232,  of  the  Paris  edition,  and  from 
Neyraguet,  p.  141,  two  compendiums  of  Liguori  which  are  (or  were  lately) 
used,  so  I  have  every  reason  to  believe — one  at  Oscott,  the  other  at 
Maynooth. 


60   "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ?  " 

a  sin,  when  direct.  It  is  proved  to  be  such  from  Scripture, 
from  the  fathers,  and  from  natural  reason,  because  "  truth 
is  an  essential  perfection  of  the  Divine  nature."  So  far 
well.  But  a  lie  is  a  venial  sin,  if  it  "  neither  hurts  our 
neighbour  or  God  gravely,  or  causes  a  grave  scandal  "  ;  as 
no  lie  told  in  behalf  of  the  Catholic  faith  can  well  do, 
though  one  wiss  Pope  laid  it  down  that  it  was  a  sin  to  tell 
a  lie,  even  for  the  sake  of  saving  a  soul.  But  though  it  were 
a  sin,  the  fact  of  its  being  a  venial  one  seems  to  have  gained 
for  it,  as  yet,  a  very  slight  penance.  Meanwhile,  as  a 
thousand  venial  sins  can  never  make  one  mortal  one,  a  man 
may  be  a  habitual  liar  all  his  life  long,  without  falling  into 
mortal  sin.  Moreover,  though  "  formal  simulation,"  when 
"  one  signifies  by  outward  act  something  different  to  what 
he  has  in  his  mind,"  is  illicit,  as  a  lie,  yet  "  material  simula 
tion,"  or  stratagem,  is  not  so.  "  For  when  one  does  some- 
"  thing,  not  intending  the  deception  of  another,  but  some 
"  end  of  his  own,  then  it  is  allowable  on  cause  ;  although, 
"  from  other  circumstances,  men  might  conjecture  that  the 
"  act  was  done  for  another  end.  So  Joshua  fled  lawfully, 
"  not  meaning  fear,  but  that  he  might  draw  the  enemy 
"  further  from  the  city  of  Hai."  From  which  one  can 
gather,  that  Romish  casuists  allow  the  same  stratagems  to 
man  against  his  neighbours,  in  peaceable  society,  which 
Protestant  public  opinion  allows  (and  that  with  a  growing 
compunction)  only  to  officers  in  war,  against  the  enemies 
of  their  country.  Considering  this  fact,  and  the  permission 
of  equivocation,  even  on  oath,  it  is,  somewhat  difficult  to 
expect  that  the  Romish  moralists,  at  least,  hold  truth  to  be 
a  virtue  for  its  own  sake,  or  to  deny  that  they  teach  cunning 
to  be  the  weapons  of  the  weak  against  the  strong. 

Yes — I  am  afraid  that  I  must  say  it  once  more — Truth  is 
not  honoured  among  these  men  for  its  own  sake.  There  are, 
doubtless,  pure  and  noble  souls  among  them,  superior, 
through  the  grace  of  God,  to  the  official  morality  of  their 
class  :  but  in  their  official  writings,  and  in  too  much  of 
their  official  conduct,  the  great  majority  seem  never,  for 
centuries  past,  to  have  perceived  that  truth  is  the  capital 
virtue,  the  virtue  of  all  virtues,  without  which  all  others 
are  hollow  and  rotten  ;  and  with  which  there  is  hope  for 
a  man's  repentance  and  conversion,  in  spite  of  every  vice, 


A  REPLY  TO  A  PAMPHLET.  61 

if  only  he  remains  honest.  They  have  not  seen  that  facts 
are  the  property  not  of  man,  to  be  "  economized  "  as  man 
thinks  fit,  but  of  God,  who  ordereth  all  things  in  heaven 
and  earth ;  and  that  therefore  not  only  every  lie,  but  every 
equivocation,  every  attempt  at  deception,  is  a  sin,  not 
against  man,  but  against  God  ;  they  have  not  seen  that  no 
lie  is  of  the  truth,  and  that  God  requires  truth,  not  merely 
in  outward  words,  but  in  the  inward  parts  ;  and  that 
therefore  the  first  and  most  absolute  duty  of  every  human 
being  is  to  speak  and  act  the  exact  truth  ;  or  if  he  wish 
to  be  silent,  to  be  silent,  courageously  and  simply,  and 
take  the  risk,  trusting  in  God  to  protect  him,  as  long  as  he 
remains  on  God's  side  in  the  universe,  by  scorning  to  sully 
his  soul  by  stratagem  or  equivocation.  Had  they  seen  this  ; 
had  they  not  regarded  truth  as  a  mere  arbitrary  command 
of  God,  which  was  not  binding  in  doubtful  cases,  they 
would  never  have  dared  to  bargain  with  God  as  to  how  little 
truth  He  required  of  men  ;  and  to  examine  and  define  (to 
the  injury  alike  of  their  own  sense  of  honour,  and  that  of 
their  hearers)  how  much  deception  He  may  be  reasonably 
supposed  to  allow. 

Is  this  last  Dr.  Newman's  view  of  truth  ?  I  hope  not. 
I  hope  that  he,  educated  as  an  English  gentleman  and  Oxford 
scholar,  is  at  variance  with  the  notions  formally  allowed  by 
the  most  popular  and  influential  modern  Doctor  of  his 
Church.  But  that  there  is  some  slight  difference  between 
his  notions  of  truth  and  ours  he  has  confessed — in  a  letter  to 
"  X.  V.  Esqre," 1  which  he  has  printed  in  his  "Correspon 
dence."  For  there  he  says  (p.  11)  :  "I  think  that  you  will 
"  allow  that  there  is  a  broad  difference  between  a  virtue, 
"  considered  as  a  principle  or  rule,  and  the  applications  and 
"  limits  of  it  in  human  conduct.  Catholics  and  Protestants, 
"  in  their  view  of  the  substance  of  the  moral  virtues,  agree  ; 
"  but  they  carry  them  out  variously  in  detail."  He  then 
gives  us  to  understand,  that  this  is  the  case  as  to  truth  ; 
that  Catholics  differ  from  Protestants  as  to  "  whether  this  or 
that  act  in  particular  is  conformable  to  the  rule  of  truth." 

I  beg  to  say,  that  in  these  words  Dr.  Newman  has  made 
another  great  mistake.  He  has  calumniated,  as  far  as  my 

1  ['X.  V.'  for  'X.  Y.',  so  in  first  and  third  editions  of  Kingsley's 
pamphlet.] 


62        "  WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN  ? " 

experience  goes,  the  Catholic  gentry  of  these  realms.  I  am 
proud  to  say,  as  far  as  I  have  had  the  honour  and  pleasure 
of  their  acquaintance,  that  there  is  no  difference  whatso 
ever,  of  detail  or  other,  between  their  truthfulness  and 
honour,  and  the  truthfulness  and  honour  of  the  Protes 
tant  gentry  among  whom  they  live,  respected  and  beloved, 
in  spite  of  all  religious  differences,  simply  because  they  are 
honest  gentlemen  and  noble  ladies.  But  if  Dr.  Newman  will 
limit  his  statement  to  the  majority  of  the  Romish  priest 
hood,  and  to  those  hapless  Irish  Celts  over  whom  they  rule, 
then  we  will  willingly  accept  it  as  perfectly  correct.  There 
is  a  very  wide  difference  in  practical  details  between  their 
notions  of  truth  and  ours  ;  and  what  that  difference  is, 
I  have  already  pointed  out.  It  is  notorious  enough  in  facts 
and  practice.  It  may  be  seen  at  large  by  any  one  who 
chooses  to  read  the  Romish  Moral  Theologians.  And  if 
Dr.  Newman,  as  a  Catholic  priest,  includes  himself  in  his 
own  statement,  that  is  his  act,  not  mine. 

And  so  I  leave  Dr.  Newman,  only  expressing  my  fear,  that 
if  he  continues  to  "  economize  "  and  "  divide  "  the  words  of 
his  adversaries  as  he  has  done  mine,  he  will  run  great 
danger  of  forfeiting  once  more  his  reputation  for  honesty. 

CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 


[Reduced  Facsimile  of  the  original  Title-page.] 

APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA: 


BEING 


io  a 


ENTITLED 


WHAT,  THEN,  DOES  DR.  NEWMAN  MEAN?" 


"  Commit  thy  way  to  the  Lord,  and  trust  in  Him,  and  He  will  do  it. 
And  He  will  bring  forth  thy  justice  as  the  light,  and  thy  judg 
ment  as  the  noon-day." 


BY  JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN,  D.D. 


LONDON: 

LONGMAN,  GREEN,  LONGMAN,  ROBERTS,  AND  GREEN. 

1864, 


CONTENTS 
OF  'APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA',    1864. 

PART  I. 

PAGE 

Mr.  Kingsley's  Method  of  Disputation  .....       67 

PART  II. 

True  Mode  of  meeting  Mr.  Kingsley      .         .         .          .         .85 

PART  III. 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  up  to  1833          .         .         .     103 

PART  IV. 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  from  1833  to  1839        .          .137 

PART  V. 

History -of  my  Religious  Opinions  from  1839  to  1841       .         .     189 

PART  VI. 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  from  1841  to  1845       .         .     243 

PART  VII. 

General  Answer  to  Mr.  Kingsley  .         .         .         .         .         .329 

APPENDIX. 

Answer  in  Detail  to  Mr.  Kingsley's  Accusations      .          .          .     373 
APOLOQU  r» 


PART  I 

MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION. 

[Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  April  21,  1864,] 


PART  I. 

•-  '    MR.  KINGSLEY 's  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION. 
[Not  reprinted  in  1865.] 

I  CANNOT  be  sorry  to  have  forced  Mr.  Kingsley  to  bring 
out  in  fulness  his  charges  against  me.  It  is  far  better  that 
he  should  discharge  his  thoughts  upon  me  in  my  lifetime, 
than  after  I  am  dead.  Under  the  circumstances  I  am 
happy  in  having  the  opportunity  of  reading  the  worst  that 
can  be  said  of  me  by  a  writer  who  has  taken  pains  with 
his  work  and  is  well  satisfied  with  it.  I  account  it  a  gain 
to  be  surveyed  from  without  by  one  who  hates  the  principles 
which  are  nearest  to  my  heart,  has  no  personal  knowledge 

10  of  me  to  set  right  his  misconceptions  of  my  doctrine,  and 
who  has  some  motive  or  other  to  be  as  severe  with  me  as 
he  can  possibly  be. 

And  first  of  all,  I  beg  to  compliment  him  on  the  motto 
in  his  Title-page  ;  it  is  felicitous.  A  motto  should  contain, 
as  in  a  nutshell,  the  contents,  or  the  character,  or  the  drift, 
or  the  animus  of  the  writing  to  wilich  it  is  prefixed.  The 
words  which  he  has  taken  from  me  are  so  apposite  as  to 
be  almost  prophetical.  There  cannot  be  a  better  illustration 
than  he  thereby  affords  of  the  aphorism  which  I  intended 

20  them  to  convey.  I  said  that  it  is  not  more  than  an  hyper 
bolical  expression  to  say  that  in  certain  cases  a  lie  is  the 
nearest  approach  to  truth.  Mr.  Kingsley's  pamphlet  is 
emphatically  one  of  such  cases  as  are  contemplated  in  that 
proposition.  I  really  believe,  that  his  view  of  me  is  about 
as  near  an  approach  to  the  truth  about  my  writings  and 
doings,  as  he  is  capable  of  taking.  He  has  done  his  worst 
towards  me  ;  but  he  has  also  done  his  best.  So  far  well ; 
but,  while  I  impute  to  him  no  malice,  I  unfeignedly  think, 
on  the  other  hand,  that,  in  his  invective  against  me,  he  as 

30  faithfully  fulfils  the  other  half  of  the  proposition  also. 

This  is  not  a  mere  sharp  retort  upon  Mr.  Kingsley,  as 


70  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 


will  be  seen,  when  I  come  to  consider  directly  the  subject, 
to  which  the  words  of  his  motto  relate.    I  have  enlarged 
on  that  subject  in  various  passages  of  my  publications  : 
I  have  said  that  minds  in  different  states  and  circumstances 
cannot  understand  one  another,  and  that  in  all  cases  they 
must  be  instructed  according  to  their  capacity,  and,  if 
not  taught  step  by  step,  they  learn  only  so  much  the  less  ; 
that  children  do  not  apprehend  the  thoughts  of  grown 
people,  nor  savages  the  instincts 'of  civilization,  nor  blind 
men  the  perceptions  of  sight,  nor  pagans  the  doctrines  of  10 
Christianity,  nor  men  the  experiences  of  Angels.     In  the 
same  way,  there  are  people  of  matter-of-fact,  prosaic  minds, 
who  cannot  take  in  the  fancies  of  poets  ;    and  others  of 
shallow,  inaccurate  minds,  who  cannot  take  in  the  ideas 
of  philosophical  inquirers.     In  a  Lecture  of  mine  I  have 
illustrated  this  phenomenon  by  the  supposed  instance  of 
a   foreigner,   who,    after  reading   a   commentary   on   the 
principles  of  English  Law,  does  not  get  nearer  to  a  real 
apprehension  of  them  than  to  be  led  to  accuse  Englishmen 
of  considering  that  the  Queen  is  impeccable  and  infallible..  20 
and  that  the  Parliament  is  omnipotent.    Mr.  Kingsley  has 
read  me  from  beginning  to  end  in  the  fashion  in  which  the 
hypothetical  Russian  read  Blackstone  ;  not,  I  repeat,  from 
malice,  but  because  of  his  intellectual  build.    He  appears 
to  be  so  constituted  as  to  have  no  notion  of  what  goes  on  in 
minds  very  different  from  his  own,  and  moreover  to  be 
stone-blind  to  his  ignorance.  A  modest  man  or  a  philosopher 
would  have  scrupled  to  treat  with  scorn  and  scoffing,  as 
Mr.  Kingsley  does  in  my  own  instance,   principles  and 
convictions,  even  if  he  did  not  acquiesce  in  them  himself,  30 
which  had  been  held  so  widely  and  for  so  long, — the  beliefs 
and  devotions  and  customs  which  have  been  the  religious 
life   of   millions   upon   millions   of   Christians   for   nearly 
twenty  centuries, — for  this  in  fact  is  the  task  on  which  he 
is  spending  his  pains.     Had  he  been  a  man  of  large  or 
cautious  mind,  he  would  not  have  taken  it  for  granted 
that  cultivation  must  lead  every  one  to  see  things  precisely 
as  he  sees  them  himself.      But  the  narrow-minded  are  the 
more  prejudiced  by  very  reason  of  their  narrowness.    The 
Apostle  bids  us   "  in  malice  be  children,   but  in  under-  40 
standing  be  men."    I  am  glad  to  recognize  in  Mr.  Kingsley 


MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        71 

an  illustration  of  the  first  half  of  this  precept ;  but  I  should 
not  be  honest,  if  I  ascribed  to  him  any  sort  of  fulfilment 
of  the  second. 

I  wish  I  could  speak  as  favourably  either  of  his  drift 
or  of  his  method  of  arguing,  as  I  can  of  his  convictions. 
As  to  his  drift,  I  think  its  ultimate  point  is  an  attack  upon 
the  Catholic  Religion.  It  is  I  indeed,  whom  he  is  immedi 
ately  insulting, — still,  he  views  me  only  as  a  representative, 
and  on  the  whole  a  fair  one,  of  a  class  or  caste  of  men,  to 

10  whom,  conscious  as  I  am  of  my  own  integrity,  I  ascribe 
an  excellence  superior  to  mine .  He  desires  to  impress  upon 
the  public  mind  the  conviction  that  I  am  a  crafty,  scheming 
man,  simply  untrustworthy  ;  that,  in  becoming  a  Catholic, 
I  have  just  found  my  right  place  ;  that  I  do  but  justify 
and  am  properly  interpreted  by  the  common  English  notion 
of  Roman  casuists  and  confessors  ;  that  I  was  secretly 
a  Catholic  when  I  was  openly  professing  to  be  a  clergyman 
of  the  Established  Church  ;  that  so  far  from  bringing,  by 
means  of  my  conversion,  when  at  length  it  openly  took 

20  place,  any  strength  to  the  Catholic  cause,  I  am  really 
a  burden  to  it, — an  additional  evidence  of  the  fact,  that 
to  be  a  pure,  german,  genuine  Catholic,  a  man  must  be 
either  a  knave  or  a  fool. 

These  last  words  bring  me  to  Mr.  Kingsley's  method  of 
disputation,  which  I  must  criticize  with  much  severity  ; — 
in  his  drift  he  does  but  follow  the  ordinary  beat  of  con 
troversy,  but  in  his  mode  of  arguing  he  is  actually  dishonest. 

He  says  that  I  am  either  a  knave  or  a  fool,  and  (as  we 
shall  see  by  and  by)  he  is  not  quite  sure  which,  probably  both. 
30  He  tells  his  readers  that  on  one  occasion  he  said  that  he 
had  fears  I  should  "  end  in  one  or  other  of  two  misfortunes." 
"  He  would  either,"  he  continues,  "  destroy  his  own  sense 
of  honesty,  i.e.  conscious  truthfulness — and  become  a  dis 
honest  person  ;  or  he  would  destroy  his  common  sense, 
i.e.  unconscious  truthfulness,  and  become  the  slave  and 
puppet  seemingly  of  his  own  logic,  really  of  his  own 
fancy.  ...  I  thought  for  years  past  that  he  had  become  the 
former  ;  I  now  see  that  he  has  become  the  latter."  p.  37. 
Again,  "  When  I  read  these  outrages  upon  common  sense, 
10  what  wonder  if  I  said  to  myself,  '  This  man  cannot  believe 


72  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

what  he  is  saying  ?  '"  p.  43.    Such  has  been  Mr.  Kingsley's 
state  of  mind  till  lately,  but  now  he  considers  that  I  am 
possessed  with  a  spirit  "of  "  almost  boundless  silliness,'1  of 
"  simple  credulity,  the  child  of  scepticism,"  of  "  absurdity  " 
(p.  56),  of  a  "  self-deception  which  has  become  a  sort  of 
frantic   honesty"   (p.   43).     And  as  to  his  fundamental 
reason  for  this  change,  he  tells  us,  he  really  does  not  know 
what  it  is  (p.  58).   However,  let  the  reason  be  what  it  will, 
its  upshot  is  intelligible  enough.    He  is  enabled  at  once,  by 
this  professed  change  of  judgment  about  me,  to  put  forward  10 
one  of  these  alternatives,  yet  to  keep  the  other  in  reserve  ;— 
and  this  he  actually  does.     He  need  not  commit  himself 
to  a  definite  accusation  against  me,  such  as  requires  definite 
proof  and  admits  of  definite  refutation  ;    for  he  has  two 
strings  to  his  bow  ; — when  he  is  thrown  off  his  balance  on 
the  one  leg,  he  can  recover  himself  by  the  use  of  the  other. 
If  I  demonstrate  that  I  am  not  a  knave,  he  may  exclaim, 
"  Oh,  but  you  are  a  fool  !  "  and  when  I  demonstrate  that 
I  am  not  a  fool,  he  may  turn  round  and  retort,  "  Well, 
then,  you  are  a  knave."    I  have  no  objection  to  reply  to  20 
his  arguments  in  behalf  of  either  alternative,  but  I  should 
have  been  better  pleased  to  have  been  allowed  to  take  them 
one  at  a  time. 

But  I  have  not  yet  done  full  justice  to  the  method  of 
disputation,  which  Mr.  Kingsley  thinks  it  right  to  adopt. 
Observe  this  first  : — He  means 'by  a  man  who  is  "  silly  " 
not  a  man  who  is  to  be  pitied,  but  a  man  who  is  to 'be 
abhorred.  He  means  a  man  who  is  not  simply  weak  and 
incapable,  but  a  moral  leper ;  a  man  who,  if  not  a  knave,  has 
every  thing  bad  about  him  except  knavery  ;  nay,  rather,  so 
has  together  with  every  other  worst  vice,  a  spice  of  knavery 
to  boot.  His  simpleton  is  one  who  has  become  such,  in 
judgment  for  his  having  once  been  a  knave.  His  simpleton 
is  not  a  born  fool,  but  a  self-made  idiot,  one  who  has  drugged 
and  abused  himself  into  a  shameless  depravity  ;  one,  who: 
without  any  misgiving  or  remorse,  is  guilty  of  drivelling 
superstition,  of  reckless  violation  of  sacred  things,  of 
fanatical  excesses,  of  passionate  inanities,  of  unmanly 
audacious  tyranny  over  the  weak,  meriting  the  wrath  of 
fathers  and  brothers.  This  is  that  milder  judgment,  which  40 
he  seems  to  pride  himself  upon  as  so  much  charity  ;  and. 


MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        73 

as  he  expresses  it,  he  "  does  not  know  "  why.  This  is 
what  he  really  meant  in  his  letter  to  me  of  January  14, 
when  he  withdrew  his  charge  of  my  being  dishonest.  He 
said,  "  The  tone,  of  your  letters,  even  more  than  their 
language,  makes  me  feel,  to  my  very  deep  pleasure" — what  ? 
that  you  have  gambled  away  your  reason,  that  you  are 
an  intellectual  sot,  that  you  are  a  fool  in  a  frenzy.  And 
in  his  Pamphlet,  he  gives  us  this  explanation  why  he  did  not 
say  this  to  my  face,  viz.  that  he  had  been  told  that  I  was 

10  "in  weak  health,"  and  was  "  averse  to  controversy,"  pp.  25 
and  28.  He  "  felt  some  regret  for  having  disturbed  me." 

But  I  pass  on  from  these  multiform  imputations,  and 
confine  myself  to  this  one  consideration,  viz.  that  he  has 
made  any  fresh  imputation  upon  me  at  all.  He  gave  up 
the  charge  of  knavery  ;  well  and  good  :  but  where  was  the 
logical  necessity  of  his  bringing  another  ?  I  am  sitting  at 
home  without  a  thought  of  Mr.  Kingsley  ;  he  wantonly 
breaks  in  upon  me  with  the  charge  that  I  had  "  informed  " 
the  world  "  that  Truth  for  its  own  sake  need  not  and  on 

20  the  whole  ought  not  to  be  a  virtue  with  the  Roman  clergy." 
When  challenged  on  the  point  he  cannot  bring  a  fragment 
of  evidence  in  proof  of  his  assertion,  and  he  is  convicted 
of  false  witness  by  the  voice  of  the  world.  Well,  I  should 
have  thought  that  he  had  now  nothing  whatever  more 
to  do.  "  Vain  man  !  "  he  seems  to  make  answer,  "  what 
simplicity  in  you  to  think  so  !  If  you  have  not  broken 
one  commandment,  let  us  see  whether  we  cannot  convict 
you  of  the  breach  of  another.  If  you  are  not  a  swindler  or 
forger,  you  are  guilty  of  arson  or  burglary.  By  hook  or 

so  by  crook  you  shall  not  escape.  Are  you  to  suffer  or  /  ? 
What  does  it  matter  to  you  who  are  going  off  the  stage, 
to  receive  a  slight  additional  daub  upon  a  character  so 
deeply  stained  already  ?  But  think  of  me,  the  immaculate 
lover  of  Truth,  so  observant  (as  I  have  told  you  p.  27)  of 
'  hault  courage  and  strict  honour,' — and  (aside) — '  and  not 
as  this  publican  ' — do  you  think  I  can  let  you  go  scot  free 
instead  of  myself  ?  No  ;  noblesse  oblige.  Go  to  the  shades, 
old  man,  and  boast  that  Achilles  sent  you  thither." 

But  I  have  not  even  yet  done  with  Mr.  Kingsley's  method 

40  of  disputation.  Observe  secondly  : — when  a  man  is  said 
to  be  a  knave  or  a  fool,  it  is  commonly  meant  that  he  is 

D3 


74  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

either  the  one  or  the  other  ;  and  that, — either  in  the  sense 
that  the  hypothesis  of  his  being  a  fool  is  too  absurd  to  be 
entertained  ;  or,  again,  as  a  sort  of  contemptuous  acquittal 
of  one,  who  after  all  has  not  wit  enough  to  be  wicked.  But 
this  is  not  at  all  what  Mr.  Kingsley  proposes  to  himself 
in  the  antithesis  which  he  suggests  to  his  readers.  Though 
he  speaks  of  me  as  an  utter  dotard  and  fanatic,  yet  all 
along,  from  the  beginning  of  his  Pamphlet  to  the  end, 
he  insinuates,  he  proves  from  my  writings,  and  at  length 
in  his  last  pages  he  openly  pronounces,  that  after  all  he  was  10 
right  at  first,  in  thinking  me  a  conscious  liar  and  deceiver. 

Now  I.  wish  to  dwell  on  this  point.  It  cannot  be  doubted, 
I  say,  that,  in  spite  of  his  professing  to  consider  me  as  a 
dotard  and  driveller,  on  the  ground  of  his  having  given 
up  the  notion  of  my  being  a  knave,  yet  it  is  the  very  staple 
of  his  Pamphlet  that  a  knave  after  all  I  must  be.  By 
insinuation,  or  by  implication,  or  by  question,  or  by  irony, 
or  by  sneer,  or  by  parable,  he  enforces  again  and  again 
a  conclusion  which  he  does  not  categorically  enunciate. 

For  instance  (1)  P.  33.     "I  know  that  men  used  to  2o 
suspect  Dr.  Newman,  I  have  been  inclined  to  do  so  myself, 

of  writing  a  whole  sermon for  the  sake  of  one  single 

passing  hint,  one  phrase,  one  epithet,  one  little  barbed 

arrow  which he  delivered  unheeded,  as  with  his 

finger  tip,  to  the  very  heart  of  an  initiated  hearer,  never  to  be 
withdrawn  again . ' ' 

(2)  P.  34.     "  How  was  I  to  know  that  the  preacher,  who 
had  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  acute  man  of  hisv 
generation,  and  of  having  a  specially  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  weaknesses  of  the  human  heart,  was  utterly  blind  30 
to  the  broad  meaning  and  the  plain  practical  result  of 

a  sermon  like  this,  delivered  before  fanatic  and  hot-headed 
young  men,  who  hung  upon  his  every  word  ?  That  he  did 
not  foresee  that  they  would  think  that  they  obeyed  him, 
by  becoming  affected,  artificial,  sly,  shifty,  ready  for  con 
cealments  and  equivocations  ?  " 

(3)  P.  36.     "  No  one  would  have  suspected  him  to  be  a  dis 
honest  man,  if  he  had  not  perversely  chosen  to  assume 
a  style  which  (as  he  himself  confesses)  the  world  always 
associates  with  dishonesty."  40 

(4)  P,  46.     "//  he  will   indulge   in   subtle   paradoxes, 


MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        75 

in  rhetorical  exaggerations  t  if,  whenever  he  touches  on  the 
question  of  truth  and  honesty,  he  will  take  a  perverse  pleasure 
in  saying  something  shocking  to  plain  English  notions,  he 
must  take  the  consequences  of  his  own  eccentricities." 

(5)  Pp.  49,  50.     "  At  which  most  of  my  readers  will  be 

inclined  to  cry  :  '  Let  Dr.  Newman  alone,  after  that 

He  had  a  human  reason  once,  no  doubt :  but  he  has  gambled 
it  away.' True  :  so  true,  &c." 

(6)  P.  50.     He  continues  :   "I  should  never  have  written 
10  these  pages,  save  because  it  was  my  duty  to  show  the 

world,  if  not  Dr.  Newman,  how  the  mistake  (!)  of  his  not 
caring  for  truth  arose." 

(7)  P.  52.     "  And  this  is  the  man,  who  when  accused  of 
countenancing  falsehood,  puts  on  first  a  tone  of  plaintive  (!) 
and  startled  innocence,  and  then  one  of  smug  self-satis 
faction — as  who  should  ask,  '  What  have  I  said  ?     What 
have  I  done  ?    Why  am  I  on  my  trial  ?  ' 

(8)  P.  55.     "  What  Dr.  Newman  teaches  is  clear  at  last, 
and  /  see  now  how  deeply  I  have  wronged  him.    So  far  from 

20  thinking  truth  for  its  own  sake  to  be  no  virtue,  he  considers 
it  a  virtue  so  lofty  as  to  be  unattainable  by  man." 

(9)  P.  57.     "  There  is  no  use  in  wasting  words  on  this 
'  economical '  statement  of  Dr.  Newman's.     I  shall  only 
say  that  there  are  people  in  the  world  whom  it  is  very 
difficult  to  help.    As  soon  as  they  are  got  out  of  one  scrape, 
they  walk  straight  into  another." 

,    (10)  P.  58.     "  Dr.  Newman  has  shown  '  wisdom  '  enough 

of  that  serpentine  type  which  is  his  professed  ideal 

Yes,  Dr.  Newman  is  a  very  economical  person." 

30  (11)  P.  58.  "  Dr.  Newman  tries t  by  cunning  sleight-of- 
hand  logic,  to  prove  that  I  did  not  believe  the  accusation 
when  I  made  it." 

(12)  P.  59.  "  These  are  hard  words.  If  Dr.  Newman 
shall  complain  of  them,  I  can  only  remind  him  of  the  fate 
which  befel  the  stork  caught  among  the  cranes,  even  though 
the  stork  had  not  done  all  he  could  to  make  himself  like 
a  crane,  as  Dr.  Newman  has,  by  '  economising  '  on  the  very 
title-page  of  his  pamphlet." 

These  last  wrords  bring  us  to  another  and  far  worse 

40  instance  of  these  slanderous  assaults  upon  me,  but  its 
place  is  in  a  subsequent  page. 


76  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

Now  it  may  be  asked  of  me,  "  Well,  why  should  not 
Mr.  Kingsley  take  a  course  such  as  this  ?  It  was  his 
original  assertion  that  Dr.  Newman  was  a  professed  liar, 
and  a  patron  of  lies  ;  he  spoke  somewhat  at  random  ; 
granted  ;  but  now  he  has  got  up  his  references  and  he  is 
proving,  not  perhaps  the  very  thing  which  he  said  at  first, 
but  something  very  like  it,  and  to  say  the  least  quite  as 
bad.  He  is  now  only  aiming  to  justify  morally  his  original 
assertion  ;  why  is  he  not  at  liberty  to  do  so  ?  " 

Why  should  he  not  now  insinuate  that  I  am  a  liar  and  10 
a  knave  !  he  had  of  course  a  perfect  right  to  make  such 
a  charge,  if  he  chose  ;  he  might  have  said,  "  I  was  virtually 
right,  and  here  is  the  proof  of  it,"  but  this  he  has  not  done, 
but  on  the  contrary  has  professed  that  he  no  longer  draws 
from  my  works,  as  he  did  before,  the  inference  of  my  dis 
honesty.  He  says  distinctly,  p.  43,  "  When  I  read  these 
outrages  upon  common  sense,  what  wonder  if  I  said  to 
myself,  '  This  man  cannot  believe  what  he  is  saying  ?  ' 
/  believe  I  was  wrong."  And  in  p.  47,  "  I  said,  This  man 
has  no  real  care  for  truth.  Truth  for  its  own  sake  is  no  20 
virtue  in  his  eyes,  and  he  teaches  that  it  need  not  be. 
/  do  not  say  that  now."  And  in  p.  56,  "  I  do  not  call  this 
conscious  dishonesty  ;  the  man  who  wrote  that  sermon  was 
already  past  the  possibility  of  such  a  sin." 

Why  should  he  not  I  because  it  is  on  the  ground  of  my 
not  being  a  knave  that  he  calls  me  a  fool ;  adding  to  the 
words  just  quoted,  "  [My  readers]  have  fallen  perhaps  into 
the  prevailing  superstition  that  cleverness  is  synonymous 
with  wisdom.  They  cannot  believe  that  (as  is  too  certain) 
great  literary  and  even  barristerial  ability  may  co-exist  30 
with  almost  boundless  silliness." 

.  Why  should  he  not !  because  he  has  taken  credit  to 
himself  for  that  high  feeling  of  honour  which  refuses  to 
withdraw  a  concession  which  once  has  been  made  ;  though, 
(wonderful  to  say  !)  at  the  very  time  that  he  is  recording 
this  magnanimous  resolution,  he  lets  it  out  of  the  bag  that 
his  relinquishment  of  it  is  only  a  profession  and  a  pretence  ; 
for  he  says,  p.  27 :  "I  have  accepted  Dr.  Newman's  denial 
that  [the  Sermon]  means  what  I  thought  it  did ;  and 
heaven  forbid"  (oh!)  "that  I  should  withdraw  my  wordao 
once  given,  at  whatever  disadvantage  to  myself."  Disad- 


MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        77 

vantage  !  but  nothing  can  be  advantageous  to  him  which 
is  untrue  ;  therefore  in  proclaiming  that  the  concession  of 
my  honesty  is  a  disadvantage  to  him,  he  thereby  implies 
unequivocally  that  there  is  some  probability  still,  that  I  am 
dishonest.  He  goes  on,  "I  am  informed  by  those  from 
whose  judgment  on  such  points  there  is  no  appeal,  that 
'  en  Jiault  courage'  and  strict  honour,  I  am  also  precluded, 
by  the  terms  of  my  explanation,  from  using  any  other  of 
Dr.  Newman's  past  writings  to  prove  my  assertion."  And 

10  then,  "  I  have  declared  Dr.  Newman  to  have  been  an  honest 
man  up  to  the  1st  of  February,  1864  ;  it  was,  as  I  shall  show, 
only  Dr.  Newman's  fault  that  I  ever  thought  him  to  be 
any  thing  else.  It  depends  entirely  on  Dr.  Newman 
whether  he  shall  sustain  the  reputation  which  he  has  so 
recently  acquired,"  (by  diploma  of  course  from  Mr.  Kings- 
ley.)  "  If  I  give  him  thereby  a  fresh  advantage  in  this 
argument,  he  is  most  welcome  to  it.  He  needs,  it  seems  to 
me,  as  many  advantages  as  possible." 

What  a  princely  mind  !    How  loyal  to  his  rash  promise, 

20  how  delicate  towards  the  subject  of  it,  how  conscientious 
in  his  interpretation  of  it  !  I  have  no  thought  of  irreverence 
towards  a  Scripture  Saint,  who  was  actuated  by  a  very 
different  spirit  from  Mr.  Kingsley's,  but  somehow  since  I  read 
his  Pamphlet  words  have  been  running  in  my  head,  which 
I  find  in  the  Douay  version  thus  ;  "  Thou  hast  also  with 
thee  Semei  the  son  of  Gera,  who  cursed  me  with  a  grievous 
curse  when  I  went  to  the  camp,  but  I  swore  to  him,  saying, 
I  will  not  kill  thee  with  the  sword.  Do  not  thou  hold  him 
guiltless.  But  thou  art  a  wise  man  and  knowest  what  to 

so  do  with  him,  and  thou  shalt  bring  down  his  grey  hairs  with 
blood  to  hell." 

Now  I  ask,  Why  could  not  Mr.  Kingsley  be  open  ?  If  he 
intended  still  to  arraign  me  on  the  charge  of  lying,  why 
could  he  not  say  so  as  a  man  ?  Why  must  he  insinuate, 
question,  imply,  and  use  sneering  and  irony,  as  if  longing 
to  touch  a  forbidden  fruit,  which  still  he  was  afraid  would 
burn  his  fingers,  if  he  did  so  ?  Why  must  he  "  palter 
in  a  double  sense,"  and  blow  hot  and  cold  in  one  breath  ? 
He  first  said  he  considered  me  a  patron  of  lying  ;  well, 

40  he  changed  his  opinion  ;  and  as  to  the  logical  ground  of 
this  change,  he  said  that,  if  any  one  asked  him  what  it  was, 


78  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

he  could  only  answer  that  he  really  did  not  know.  Why 
could  not  he  change  back  again,  and  say  he  did  not  know 
why  ?  He  had  quite  a  right  to  do  so  ;  and  then  his  conduct 
would  have  be.  i  so  far  straightforward  and  unexception 
able.  But  no  ; — in  the  very  act  of  professing  to  believe 
in  my  sincerity,  he  takes  care  to  show  the  world  that  it  is 
a  profession  and  nothing  more.  That  very  proceeding  which 
at  p.  33  he  lays  to  my  charge,  (whereas  I  detest  it,)  of 
avowing  one  thing  and  thinking  another,  that  proceeding 
he  here  exemplifies  himself  ;  and  yet,  while  indulging  in  10 
practices  as  offensive  as  this,  he  ventures  to  speak  of  his 
sensitive  admiration  of  "  hault  courage  and  strict  honour  !  " 
"I  forgive  you,  Sir  Knight,"  says  the  heroine  in  the 
Romance,  "  I  forgive  you  as  a  Christian."  "  That  means," 
said  Wamba,  "  that  she  does  not  forgive  him  at  all." 
Mr.  Kingsley's  word  of  honour  is  about  as  valuable  as  in 
the  jester's  opinion  was  the  Christian  charity  of  Rowena. 
But  here  we  are  brought  to  a  further  specimen  of  Mr.  Kings - 
ley's  method  of  disputation,  and  having  duly  exhibited  it, 
I  shall  have  done  with  him.  20 

It  is  his  last,  and  he  has  intentionally  reserved  it  for  his 
last.  Let  it  be  recollected  that  he  professed  to  absolve 
me  from  his  original  charge  of  dishonesty  up  to  February  1 . 
And  further,  he  implies  that,  at  the  time  when  he  was  writing, 
I  had  not  yet  involved  myself  in  any  fresh  acts  suggestive 
of  that  sin.  He  says  that  I  have  had  a  great  escape  of 
conviction,  that  he  hopes  I  shall  take  warning,  and  act 
more  cautiously.  "  It  depends  entirely,"  he  says,  "  on 
Dr.  Newman,  ivheiher  he  shall  sustain  the  reputation  which 
he  has  so  recently  acquired  "  (p.  27) .  Thus,  in  Mr.  Kingsley's  so 
judgment,  I  was  then,  when  he  wrote  these  words,  still 
innocent  of  dishonesty,  for  a  man  cannot  sustain  what  he 
actually  has  not  got ;  only  he  could  not  be  sure  of  my  future. 
Could  not  be  sure  !  Why  at  this  very  time  he  had  already 
noted  down  valid  proofs,  as  he  thought  them,  that  I  had 
already  forfeited  the  character  which  he  contemptuously 
accorded  to  me.  He  had  cautiously  said  "  up  to  Febru 
ary  1st,"  in  order  to  reserve  the  Title-page  and  last  three 
pages  of  my  Pamphlet,  which  were  not  published  till 
February  12th,  and  out  of  these  four  pages,  which  he  had  40 
not  whitewashed,  he  had  already  forged  charges  against  me 


MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        79 

of  dishonesty  at  the  very  time  that  he  implied  that  as 
yet  there  was  nothing  against  me.  When  he  gave  me  that 
plenary  condonation,  as  it  seemed  to  be,  he  had  already 
done  his  best  that  I  should  never  enjoy  it.  He  knew  well 
at  p.  27,  what  he  meant  to  say  at  pp.  58  and  59.  At  best 
indeed  I  was  only  out  upon  ticket  of  leave  ;  but  that  ticket 
was  a  pretence  ;  he  had  made  it  forfeit  when  he  gave  it. 
But  he  did  not  say  so  at  once,  first,  because  between 
p.  27  and  p.  58  he  meant  to  talk  a  great  deal  about  my 
10  idiot cy  and  my  frenzy,  which  would  have  been  simply  out 
of  place,  had  he  proved  me  too  soon  to  be  a  knave  again ; 
and  next,  because  he  meant  to  exhaust  all  those  insinuations 
about  my  knavery  in  the  past,  which  "  strict  honour  "  did 
not  permit  him  to  countenance,  in  order  thereby  to  give 
colour  and  force  to  his  direct  charges  of  knavery  in  the 
present,  which  "  strict  honour "  did  permit  him  to 
handsel.  So  in  the  fifth  act  he  gave  a  start,  and  found 
to  his  horror  that,  in  my  miserable  four  pages,  I  had 
committed  the  "  enormity  "  of  an  "  economy,"  which  in 
20  matter  of  fact  he  had  got  by  heart  before  he  began 
the  play.  Nay,  he  suddenly  found  two,  three,  and  (for 
what  he  knew)  as  many  as  four  profligate  economies  in 
that  Title-page  and  those  Reflections,  and  he  uses  the 
language  of  distress  and  perplexity  at  this  appalling 
discovery. 

Now  why  this  coup  de  theatre  ?  The  reason  soon  breaks 
on  us.  Up  to  February  1,  he  could  not  categorically  arraign 
me  for  lying,  and  therefore  could  not  involve  me,  (as  was 
so  necessary  for  his  case,)  in  the  popular  abhorrence  which 
ao  is  felt  for  the  casuists  of  Rome  :  but,  as  soon  as  ever  he 
could  openly  and  directly  pronounce  (saving  his  "  hault 
courage  and  strict  honour  ")  that  I  am  guilty  of  three  or" 
four  new  economies,  then  at  once  I  am  made  to  bear,  not 
only  my  own  sins,  but  the  sins  of  other  people  also,  and, 
though  I  have  been  condoned  the  knavery  of  my  antece 
dents,  I  am  guilty  of  the  knavery  of  a  whole  priesthood 
instead.  So  the  hour  of  doom  for  Semei  is  come,  and  the 
wise  man  knows  what  to  do  with  him  ; — he  is  down  upon 
me  with  the  odious  names  of  "St.  Alfonso  da  Liguori," 
40  and  "Scavini"  and  "  Neyraguet,"  and  "the  Romish 
moralists,"  and  their  "  compeers  and  pupils,"  and  I  am 


80  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

at  once  merged  and  whirled  away  in  the  gulph  of  notorious 
quibblers,  and  hypocrites,  and  rogues. 

But  we  have  not  even  yet  got  at  the  real  object  of  the 
stroke,  thus  reserved  for  his  finale.  I  really  feel  sad  for 
what  I  am  obliged  now  to  say.  I  am  in  warfare  with  him, 
but  I  wish  him  no  ill ; — it  is  very  difficult  to  get  up  resent 
ment  towards  persons  whom  one  has  never  seen.  It  is 
easy  enough  to  be  irritated  with  friends  or  foes,  vis-d-vis  ; 
but,  though  I  am  writing  with  all  my  heart  against  what 
he  has  said  of  me,  I  am  not  conscious  of  personal  unkindness  10 
towards  himself.  I  think  it  necessary  to  write  as  I  am 
writing,  for  my  own  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  Catholic 
Priesthood ;  but  I  wish  to  impute  nothing  worse  to 
Mr.  Kingsley  than  that  he  has  been  furiously  carried  away 
by  his  feelings.  But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  upshot  of  all 
this  talk  of  my  economies  and  equivocations  and  the  like  ? 
What  is  the  precise  work  which  it  is  directed  to  effect  ? 
I  am  at  war  with  him  ;  but  there  is  such  a  thing  as  legiti 
mate  warfare  :  war  has  its  laws  ;  there  are  things  which  may 
fairly  be  done,  and  things  which  may  not  be  done.  I  say  20 
it  with  shame  and  with  stern  sorrow ; — he  has  attempted 
a  great  transgression  ;  he  has  attempted  (as  I  may  call  it) 
to  poison  the  wells.  I  will  quote  him  and  explain  what 
I  mean. 

"  Dr.  Newman  tries,  by  cunning  sleight-of-hand  logic, 
to  prove  that  I  did  not  believe  the  accusation  when  I  made 
it.  Therein  he  is  mistaken.  I  did  believe  it,  and  I  believed 
also  his  indignant  denial.  But  when  he  goes  on  to  ask 
with  sneers,  why  I  should  believe  his  denial,  if  I  did  not 
consider  him  trustworthy  in  the  first  instance  ?  I  can  only  30 
answer,  I  really  do  not  know.  There  is  a  great  deal  to  be 
said  for  that  view,  now  that  Dr.  Newman  has  become  (one 
must  needs  suppose)  suddenly  and  since  the  1st  of  February, 
1864,  a  convert  to  the  economic  views  of  St.  Alfonso  da 
Liguori  and  his  compeers.  I  am  henceforth  in  doubt  and 
fear,  as  much  as  any  honest  man  can  be,  concerning  every 
word  Dr.  Newman  may  write.  How  can  I  tell  that  I  shall 
not  be  the  dupe  of  some  cunning  equivocation,  of  one  of  the 
three  kinds  laid  down  as  permissible  by  the  blessed  Alfonso 
da  Liguori  and  his  pupils,  even  when  confirmed  by  an  oath,  40 
because  '  then  we  do  not^deceive  our  neighbour, 'but  allow 


MR.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        81 

him  to  deceive  himself  ?  ' It  is  admissible,  there 
fore,  to  use  words  and  sentences  which  have  a  double 
signification,  and  leave  the  hapless  hearer  to  take  which 
of  them  he  may  choose.  What  proof  have  I,  then,  that  by 
'  mean  it  ?  I  never  said  it  I '  Dr.  Newman  does  not  signify, 
I  did  not  say  it,  but  I  did  mean  it  ?  "—Pp.  58,  59. 

Now  these  insinuations  and  questions  shall  be  answered 
in  their  proper  places  ;  here  I  will  but  say  that  I  scorn 
and  detest  lying,  and  quibbling,  and  double-tongued 

10  practice,  and  slyness,  and  cunning,  and  smoothness,  and 
cant,  and  pretence,  quite  as  much  as  any  Protestants  hate 
them  ;  and  I  pray  to  be  kept  from  the  snare  of  them. 
But  all  this  is  just  now  by  the  bye  ;  my  present  subject 
is  Mr.  Kingsley ;  what  I  insist  upon  here,  now  that  I  am 
bringing  this  portion  of  my  discussion  to  a  close,  is  this 
unmanly  attempt  of  his,  in  his  concluding  pages,  to  cut  the 
ground  from  under  my  feet  ; — to  poison  by  anticipation 
the  public  mind  against  me,  John  Henry  Newman,  and  to 
infuse  into  the  imaginations  of  my  readers,  suspicion  and 

20  mistrust  of  every  thing  that  I  may  say  in  reply  to  him. 
This  I  call  poisoning  the  wells. 

"  I  am  henceforth  in  doubt  and  fear''  he  says,  "  as  much 
as  any  honest  man  can  be,  concerning  every  word  Dr.  Newman 
may  write.  How  can  I  tell  that  I  shall  not  be  the  dupe  of 


Well,  I  can  only  say,  that,  if  his  taunt  is  to  take  effect, 
I  am  but  wasting  my  time  in  saying  a  word  in  answer 
so  to  his  foul  calumnies  ;   and  this  is  precisely  what  he  knows 
and  intends  to  be  its  fruit.     I  can  hardly  get  myself  to 

Erotest  against  a  method  of  controversy  so  base  and  cruel, 
>st  in  doing  so,  I  should  be  violating  my  self-respect  and 
self-possession  ;    but  most  base  and  most  cruel  it  is.    We 
all  know  how  our  imagination  runs  away  with  us,  how 
suddenly  and  at  what  a  pace  ; — the  saying,  "  Csesar's  wife 
should  not  be  suspected,"  is  an  instance  of  what  I  mean. 
The  habitual  prejudice,  the  humour  of  the  moment,  is  the 
turning-point  which  leads  us  to  read  a  defence  in  a  good 
40  sense  or  a  bad.     We  interpret  it  by  our  antecedent  im 
pressions.     The  very  same  sentiments,  according  as  our 


82  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

jealousy  is  or  is  not  awake,  or  our  aversion  stimulated, 
are  tokens  of  truth  or  of  dissimulation  and  pretence.  There 
is  a  story  of  a  sane  person  being  by  mistake  shut  up  in  the 
wards  of  a  Lunatic  Asylum,  and  that,  when  he  pleaded  his 
cause  to  some  strangers  visiting  the  establishment,  the  only 
remark  he  elicited  in  answer  was,  "  How  naturally  he  talks  ! 
you  would  think  he  was  in  his  senses."  Controversies 
should  be  decided  by  the  reason  ;  is  it  legitimate  warfare 
to  appeal  to  the  misgivings  of  the  public  mind  and  to  its 
dislikings  ?  Any  how,  if  Mr.  Kingsley  is  able  thus  to  10 
practise  upon  my  readers,  the  more  I  succeed,  the  less  will 
be  my  success.  If  I  am  natural,  he  will  tell  them,  "  Ars  est 
celare  artem  ;  "  if  I  am  convincing,  he  will  suggest  that 
I  am  an  able  logician  ;  if  I  show  warmth,  I  am  acting  the 
indignant  innocent ;  if  I  am  calm,  I  am  thereby  detected 
as  a  smooth  hypocrite  ;  if  I  clear  up  difficulties,  I  am  too 
plausible  and  perfect  to  be  true.  The  more  triumphant 
are  my  statements,  the  more  certain  will  be  my 
defeat. 

So  will  it  be  if  Mr.  Kingsley  succeeds  in  his  manoeuvre  ;  20 
but  I  do  not  for  an  instant  believe  that  he  will.  Whatever 
judgment  my  readers  may  eventually  form  of  me  from  these 
pages,  I  am  confident  that  they  will  believe  me  in  what 
I  shall  say  in  the  course  of  them.  I  have  no  misgiving 
at  all,  that  they  will  be  ungenerous  or  harsh  with  a  man 
who  has  been  so  long  before  the  eyes  of  the  world  ;  who  has 
so  many  to  speak  of  him  from  personal  knowledge  ;  whose 
natural  impulse  it  has  ever  been  to  speak  out ;  who  has 
ever  spoken  too  much  rather  than  too  little ;  who  would 
have  saved  himself  many  a  scrape,  if  he  had  been  wise  so 
enough  to  hold  his  tongue  ;  who  has  ever  been  fair  to  the 
doctrines  and  arguments  of  his  opponents ;  who  has  never 
slurred  over  facts  and  reasonings  which  told  against  him 
self  ;  who  has  never  given  his  name  or  authority  to  proofs 
which  he  thought  unsound,  or  to  testimony  which  he  did 
riot  think  at  least  plausible  ;  who  has  never  shrunk  from 
confessing  a  fault  when  he  felt  that  he  had  committed  one  ; 
who  has  ever  consulted  for  others  more  than  for  himself  ; 
who  has  given  up  much  that  he  loved  and  prized  and  could 
have  retained,  but  that  he  loved  honesty  better  than  40 
name,  and  Truth  better  than  dear  friends. 


ME.  KINGSLEY'S  METHOD  OF  DISPUTATION.        83 

And  now  I  am  in  a  train  of  thought  higher  and  more 
serene  than  any  which  slanders  can  disturb.  Away  with 
you,  Mr.  Kingsley,  and  fly  into  space.  Your  name  shall 
occur  again  as  little  as  I  can  help,  in  the  course  of  these 
pages.  I  shall  henceforth  occupy  myself  not  with  you,  but 
with  your  charges. 


PART   II. 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

[Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  April  28,  1864.J 


[PART  II. 

TRUE   MODE    OF   MEETING    MR.    KINGSLEY.] 

{The  preface  continued,  in  1865  edition  :  see  p,  487} 

(I  make  this  extract  from  my  Apologia,  Part  2,  pp.29 31 

and  pp.  41—51,  in  order  to  set  before  the  reader  the  drift 
I  had  in  writing  my  Volume  : — } 

WHAT  shall  be  the  special  imputation,  against  which  I  shall 
throw  myself  in  these  pages,  out  of  the  thousand  and  one 
which  my  accuser  directs  upon  me  ?  I  mean  to  confine 
myself  to  one,  for  there  is  only  one  about  which  I  much 
care, — the  charge  of  Untruthfulness.  He  may  cast  upon 
me  as  many  other  imputations  as  he  pleases,  and  they 
may  stick  on  me,  as  long  as  they  can,  in  the  course  of 
nature.  ^  They  will  fall  to  the  ground  in  their  season. 
And  indeed  I  think  the  same  of  the  charge  of  Untruth- 

10  fulness,  and  [I]  select  it  from  the  rest,  not  because 
it  is  more  formidable[,]  but  because  it  is  more  serious. 
Like  the  rest,  it  may  disfigure  me  for  a  time,  but  it  will 
not  stain :  Archbishop  Whately  used  to  say,  "  Throw 
dirt  enough,  and  some  will  stick  ;  "  well,  will  stick,  but 
not  (,  will)  stain.  I  think  he  used  to  mean  "  stain,"  and 
I  do  not  agree  with  him.  Some  dirt  sticks  longer  than 
other  dirt ;  but  no  dirt  is  immortal.  According  to  the 
old  saying,  Praevalebit  Veritas.  There  are  virtues  indeed, 
(about)  which  the  world  is  not  fitted  to  judge  [about]  or 

20  to  uphold,  such  as  faith,  hope,  and  charity  :  but  it  can 
judge  about  Truthfulness  ;  it  can  judge  about  the  natural 
virtues,  and  Truthfulness  is  one  of  them.  Natural  virtues 
may  also  become  supernatural ;  Truthfulness  is  such  ;  but 
that  does  not  withdraw  it  from  the  jurisdiction  of  mankind 
at  large.  It  may  be  more  difficult  in  this  or  that  particular 
case  for  men  to  take  cognizance  of  it,  as  it  may  be  difficult 


88  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

for  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench  at  Westminster  to  try  a  case 
fairly[,]  which  took  place  in  Hindoostan ;  but  that  is 
a  question  of  capacity,  not  of  right.  Mankind  has  the  right 
to  judge  of  Truthfulness  in  [the  case  of]  a  Catholic,  as  in  the 
case  of  a  Protestant,  of  an  Italian,  or  of  a  Chinese.  I  have 
never  doubted,  that  in  my  hour,  in  God's  hour,  my  avenger 
will  appear,  and  the  world  will  acquit  me  of  untruthfulness, 
even  though  it  be  not  while  I  live. 

Still  more  confident  am  I  of  such  eventual  acquittal, 
seeing  that  my  judges  are  my  own  countrymen.  I  think,  10 
indeed,  Englishmen  the  most  suspicious  and  touchy  of 
mankind  ;  I  think  them  unreasonable^}  and  unjust  in 
their  seasons  of  excitement ;  but  I  had  rather  be  an 
Englishman,  (as  in  fact  I  am,)  than  belong  to  any  other 
race  under  heaven.  They  are  as  generous,  as  they  are 
hasty  and  burly  ;  and  their  repentance  for  their  injustice 
is  greater  than  their  sin. 

For  twenty  years  and  more  I  halre  borne  an  imputation, 
of  which  I  am  at  least  as  sensitive,  who  am  the  object  of  it, 
as  they  can  be,  who  are  only  the  judges.  I  have  not  set  20 
myself  to  remove  it,  first,  because  I  never  have  had  an 
opening  to  speak,  and,  next,  because  I  never  saw  in  them 
the  disposition  to  hear.  I  have  wished  to  appeal  from 
Philip  drunk  to  Philip  sober.  When  shall  I  pronounce  him 
to  be  himself  again  ?  If  I  may  judge  from  the  tone  of  the 
public  press,  which  represents  the  public  voice,  I  have 
great  reason  to  take  heart  at  this  time.  I  have  been  treated 
by  contemporary  critics  in  this  controversy  with  great 
fairness  and  gentleness,  and  I  am  grateful  to  them  for  it. 
However,  the  decision  of  the  time  and  mode  of  my  defence  so 
has  been  taken  out  of  my  hands  ;  and  I  am  thankful  that 
it  has  been  so.  I  am  bound  now  as  a  duty  to  myself,  to  the 
Catholic  cause,  to  the  Catholic  Priesthood,  to  give  account 
of  myself  without  any  delay,  when  I  am  so  rudely  and  cir 
cumstantially  charged  with  Untruthfulness.  I  accept  the 
challenge  ;  I  shall  do  my  best  to  meet  it,  and  I  shall  be 
content  when  I  have  done  so. 

[I  confine  myself  then,  in  these  pages,  to  the  charge  of 
Untruthfulness  ;    and  I  hereby  cart  away,   as  so  much 

2  Hindoostan]  Hindostan  10  think]  consider 

38  The  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  88-95,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.  89 

rubbish,  the  impertinences,  with  which  the  Pamphlet  of 
Accusation  swarms.    I  shall  not  think  it  necessary  here  to 
examine,  whether  I  am  "  worked  into  a  pitch  of  confusion," 
or   have    "carried   self-deception   to   perfection,"   or   am 
anxious  to  show  my  credulity,"  or  am  "  in  a  morbid 
state  of  mind,"  or  "  hunger  for  nonsense  as  my  food  " 
or      indulge  in  subtle  paradoxes  "  and  "  rhetorical  exag 
gerations,"  or  have  "  eccentricities  "  or  teach  in  a  style 
utterly   beyond  "    my   Accuser's    "  comprehension  "    or 
10  create  in  him  "  blank  astonishment,"  or  "  exalt  the  magical 
powers  of  my  Church,"  or  have  "  unconsciously  committed 
myself  to  a  statement  which  strikes  at  the'  root  of  all 
morality,"  or  "look  down  on  the  Protestant  gentry  as 
without  hope  of  heaven,"  or  "  had  better  be  sent  to  the 
furthest"  Catholic   "mission  among  the  savages  of  the 
South  seas,"  than  "to  teach  in  an  Irish  Catholic  University  " 
or  have  "gambled  away  my  reason,"  or  adopt  "sophis 
tries,    or  have  published  "  sophisms  piled  upon  sophisms  " 
or  have  in  my  sermons  "  culminating  wonders,"  or  have 
a  "seemingly   sceptical   method,"  or   have    "  barristerial 
ability     and  "  almost  boundless  silliness,"  or  "  make  great 
mistakes,"  or  am  "  a  subtle  dialectician,"  or  perhaps  have 
{lost    my    temper,"    or    "misquote    Scripture,"    or    am 
antiscriptural,"  or  "  border  very  closely  on  the  Pda<nan 
heresy."— Pp.  25.  27.  43.  45-50.  53.  54.  56.  57.  58.  61    ' 

These  all  are  impertinences  ;   and  the  list  is  so  long  that 
1  am  almost  sorry  to  have  given  them  room  which  mio-ht 
be  better  used.     However,   there  they  are,   or  at  least 
a  portion  of  them  ;    and  having  noticed  them  thus  much 
so  1  shall  notice  them  no  more. 

Coming  then  to  the  subject,  which  is  to  furnish  the  staple 
ol  my  publication,  the  question  of  my  Truthfulness  I  first 
direct  attention  to  the  passage  which  the  Act  of  Accusation 
contains  at  p.  28  and  p.  56.   I  shall  give  my  reason  presently 
why  I  begin  with  it. 

My  accuser  is  speaking  of  my  Sermon  on  Wisdom  and 
Innocence,  and  he  says,  "  It  must  be  remembered  always 
that  it  is  not  a  Protestant,  but  a  Romish  sermon  "— P  28 

Then  at  p.  56  he  continues,  "  Dr.  Newman  does  not  apply 
'.0  to  it  that  epithet.    He  called  it  in  his  letter  to  me  of  the 


20  a 


90  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

7th  of  January,  (published  by  him,)  a  '  Protestant '  one. 
I  remarked  that,  but  considered  it  a  mere  slip  of  the  pen. 
Besides,  I  have  now  nothing  to  say  to  that  letter.    It  is 
to  his  '  Reflections,'  in  p.  20,  which  are  open  ground  to  me, 
that  I  refer.    In  them  he  deliberately  repeats  the  epithet 
1  Protestant  :  '  only  he,  in  an  utterly  imaginary  conversa 
tion,  puts  it  into  my  mouth,  '  which  you  preached  when 
a  Protestant.'    I  call  the  man  who  preached  that  Sermon 
a  Protestant  ?    I  should  have  sooner  called  him  a  Buddhist. 
At  that  very  time  he  was  teaching  his  disciples  to  scorn  and  10 
repudiate  that  name  of  Protestant,  under  which,  for  some 
reason  or  other,  he  now  finds  it  convenient  to  take  shelter. 
If  he  forgets,  the  world  does  not,  the  famous  article  in  the 
British  Critic,  (the  then  organ  of  his  party,)  of  three  years 
before,  July  1841,  which,  after  denouncing  the  name  ot 
Protestant,  declared  the  object  of  the  party  to  be  none  other 
than  the  '  unprotestantising  '  the  English  Church." 

In  this  passage  my  accuser  asserts  or  implies,  1.  that 
the  Sermon,  on  which  he  originally  grounded  his  slander 
against  me  in  the  January  No.  of  the  Magazine,  was  really  20 
and  in  matter  of  fact  a  "  Romish  "  Sermon  ;  2.  that  I  ought 
in  my  Pamphlet  to  have  acknowledged  this  fact ;  3.  that 
I  didn't.  4.  That  I  actually  called  it  instead  a  Protestant 
Sermon.  5.  That  at  the  time  when  I  published  it,  twenty 
years  ago,  I  should  have  denied  that  it  was  a  Protestant 
Sermon.  6.  By  consequence,  I  should  in  that  denial  have 
avowed  that  it  was  a  "  Romish  "  Sermon  ;  7.  and  therefore, 
not  only,  when  I  was  in  the  Established  Church,  was  I  guilty 
of  the  dishonesty  of  preaching  what  at  the  time  I  knew  to 
be  a  "Romish"  Sermon,  but  now  too,  in  1864,  I  have  so 
committed  the  additional  dishonesty  of  calling  it  a  Protes 
tant  Sermon.  If  my  accuser  does  not  mean  this,  I  submit 
to  such  reparation  as  I  owe  him  for  my  mistake,  but  I 
cannot  make  out  that  he  means  any  thing  else. 

Here  are  two  main  points  to  be  considered  ;    1.1 
1864  have  called  it  a  Protestant  Sermon.     2.  He  in  1844 
and  now  has  styled  it  a  Popish  Sermon.    Let  me  take  these 
two  points  separately. 

1.  Certainly,  when  I  was  in  the  English  Church,  1  aid 
disown  the  word  "  Protestant,"  and  that,  even  at  an  earlier  10 
date  than  my  Accuser  names  ;  but  just  let  us  see  whether 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.          91 

this  fact  is  any  thing  at  all  to  the  purpose  of  his  accusation. 
Last  January  7th  I  spoke  to  this  effect  :  "  How  can  you 
prove  that  Father  Newman  informs  us  of  a  certain  thing 
about  the  Roman  Clergy,"  by  referring  to  a  Protestant 
Sermon  of  the  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's  ?  My  Accuser  answers 
me  thus  :  "  There's  a  quibble  !  why,  Protestant  is  not  the 
word  which  you  would  have  used  when  at  St.  Mary's,  and  yet 
you  use  it  now  !  "  Very  true  ;  I  do  ;  but  what  on  earth 
does  this  matter  to  my  argument  ?  how  does  this  word 

10  "  Protestant,"  which  I  used,  tend  in  any  degree  to  make 
my  argument  a  quibble  ?  What  word  should  I  have  used 
twenty  years  ago  instead  of  "  Protestant  ?  "  "  Roman  "  or 
"  Romish  ?  "  by  no  manner  of  means. 

My  accuser  indeed  says  that  "  it  must  always  be  remem 
bered  that  it  is  not  a  Protestant  but  a  Romish  Sermon." 
He  implies,  and,  I  suppose,  he  thinks,  that  not  to  be  a 
Protestant  is  to  be  a  Roman  ;  he  may  say  so,  if  he  pleases, 
but  so  did  not  say  that  large  body  who  have  been  called 
by  the  name  of  Tractarians,  as  all  the  world  knows.  The 

20  movement  proceeded  on  the  very  basis  of  denying  that 
position  which  my  Accuser  takes  for  granted  that  I  allowed. 
It  ever  said,  and  it  says  now,  that  there  is  something  between 
Protestant  and  Romish  ;  that  there  is  a  "  Via  Media  " 
which  is  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  Had  I  been  asked 
twenty  years  ago,  what  the  doctrine  of  the  Established 
Church  was,  I  should  have  answered,  "  Neither  Romish 
nor  Protestant,  but  '  Anglican '  or  '  Anglo-catholic.'  ' 
I  should  never  have  granted  that  the  Sermon  was  Romish  ; 
I  should  have  denied,  and  that  with  an  internal  denial, 

30  quite  as  much  as  I  do  now,  that  it  was  a  Roman  or  Romish 
Sermon.  Well  then,  substitute  the  word  "  Anglican  "  or 
"  Anglo-catholic  "  for  "  Protestant  "  in  my  question,  and 
see  if  the  argument  is  a  bit  the  worse  for  it, — thus  :  "  How 
can  you  prove  that  Father  Newman  informs  us  a  certain 
thing  about  the  Roman  Clergy,  by  referring  to  an  Anglican 
or  Anglo-catholic  Sermon  of  the  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's  ?  "  The 
cogency  of  the  argument  remains  just  where  it  was.  What 
have  I  gained  in  the  argument,  what  has  he  lost,  by  my 
having  said,  not  "  an  Anglican  Sermon,"  but  "  a  Protestant 

40  Sermon  ?  "    What  dust  then  is  he  throwing  into  our  eyes  ! 
For  instance  :    in  1844  I  lived  at  Littlemore  ;    two  or 


92  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

three  miles  distant  from  Oxford  ;    and  Littlemore  lies  in 
three,  perhaps  in  four,  distinct  parishes,  so  that  of  particular 
houses  it  is  difficult  to  say,  whether  they  are  in  St.  Mary's, 
Oxford,  or  in  Cowley,  or  in  Iffley,  or  in  Sandford,  the  line 
of  demarcation  running  even  through  them.    Now,  suppos 
ing  I  were  to  say  in  1864,  that  "  twenty  years  ago  I  did  not 
live  in  Oxford,  because  I  lived  out  at  Littlemore,  in  the 
parish  of  Cowley  ;  "  and  if  upon  this  there  were  letters  of 
mine  produced  dated  Littlemore,   1844,  in  one  of  which 
I  said  that  "  I  lived,  not  in  Cowley,  but  at  Littlemore,  in  10 
St.  Mary's  parish,"  how  would  that  prove  that  I  contra 
dicted   myself,   and  that   therefore   after   all  I   must   be 
supposed  to   have  been  living  in  Oxford  in  1844  ?     The 
utmost  that  would  be  proved  by  the  discrepancy,  such  as 
it  was,  would  be,  that  there  was  some  confusion  either  in 
me,  or 'in  the  state  of  the  fact  as  to  the  limits  of  the  parishes. 
There  would  be  no  confusion  about  the  place  or  spot  of 
my  residence.    I  should  be  saying  in  1864,  "  I  did  not  live 
in  Oxford  twenty  years  ago,  because  I  lived  at  Littlemore 
in  the  Parish  of  Cowley."     I  should  have  been  saying  in  20 
1844,  "  I  do  not  live  in  Oxford,  because  I  live  in  St.  Mary's, 
Littlemore."     In  either  case  I  should  be  saying  that  my 
habitat  in  1844  was  not  Oxford,  but  Littlemore  ;    and  I 
should  be  giving  the  same  reason  for  it.    I  should  be  proving 
an  alibi.     I  should  be  naming  the   same  place  for  the 
alibi  ;    but  twenty  years  ago  I  should  have  spoken  of  it 
as  St.  Mary's,  Littlemore,  and  to-day  I  should  have  spoken 
of  it  as  Littlemore  in  the  Parish  of  Cowley. 

And  so  as  to  my  Sermon  ;  in  January,  1864,  I  called 
it  a  Protestant  Sermon,  and  not  a  Roman  ;  but  in  1844  so 
I  should,  if  asked,  have  called  it  an  Anglican  Sermon,  and 
not  a  Roman.  In  both  cases  I  should  have  denied  that 
it  was  Roman,  and  that  on  the  ground  of  its  being  some 
thing  else  ;  though  I  should  have  called  that  something 
else,  then  by  one  name,  now  by  another.  The  doctrine 
of  the  Via  Media  is  a  fact,  whatever  name  we  give  to  it ; 
I,  as  a  Roman  Priest,  find  it  more  natural  and  usual  to 
call  it  Protestant :  I,  as  an  Oxford  Vicar,  thought  it  more 
exact  to  call  it  Anglican  ;  but,  whatever  I  then  called  it, 
and  whatever  I  now  call  it,  I  mean  one  and  the  same40 
object  by  my  name,  and  therefore  not  another  object, — 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.  93 

viz.  not  the  Roman  Church.  The  argument,  I  repeat,  is 
sound,  whether  the  Via  Media  and  the  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's 
be  called  Anglican  or  Protestant. 

This  is  a  specimen  of  what  my  Accuser  means  by  my 
"  Economies  ;  "  nay,  it  is  actually  one  of  those  special  two, 
three,  or  four,  committed  after  February  1,  which  he  thinks 
sufficient  to  connect  me  with  the  shifty  casuists  and  the 
double-dealing  moralists,  as  he  considers  them,  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  What  a  "  Much  ado  about  nothing  !  " 

10  2.  But,  whether  or  no  he  can  prove  that  I  in  1864  have 
committed  any  logical  fault  in  calling  my  Sermon  on 
Wisdom  and  Innocence  a  Protestant  Sermon,  he  is  and  has 
been  all  along,  most  firm  in  the  belief  himself  that  a  Romish 
Sermon  it  is  ;  and  this  is  the  point  on  which  I  wish  specially 
to  insist.  It  is  for  this  cause  that  I  made  the  above  extract 
from  his  Pamphlet,  not  merely  in  order  to  answer  him, 
though,  when  I  had  made  it,  I  could  not  pass  by  the  attack 
on  me  which  it  contains.  I  shall  notice  his  charges  one 
by  one  by  and  by  ;  but  I  have  made  this  extract  here  in 

20  order  to  insist  and  to  dwell  on  this  phenomenon — viz.  that 
he  does  consider  it  an  undeniable  fact,  that  the  Sermon 
is  "  Romish," — meaning  by  "  Romish  "  not  "  savouring 
of  Romish  doctrine  "  merely,  but  "  the  work  of  a  real 
Romanist,  of  a  conscious  Romanist."  This  belief  it  is 
which  leads  him  to  be  so  severe  on  me,  for  now  calling  it 
"  Protestant."  He  thinks  that,  whether  I  have  committed 
any  logical  self-contradiction  or  not,  I  am  very  well  aware 
that,  when  I  wrote  it,  I  ought  to  have  been  elsewhere, 
that  I  was  a  conscious  Romanist,  teaching  Romanism  ; — 

so  or  if  he  does  not  believe  this  himself,  he  wishes  others 
to  think  so,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing  ;  certainly 
I  prefer  to  consider  that  he  thinks  so  himself,  but,  if  he 
likes  the  other  hypothesis  better,  he  is  welcome  to  it. 

He  believes  then  so  firmly  that  the  Sermon  was  a 
"  Romish  Sermon,"  that  he  pointedly  takes  it  for  granted, 
before  he  has  adduced  a  syllable  of  proof  of  the  matter  of 
fact.  ^He^  starts  by  saying  that  it  is  a  fact  to  be  "  remem 
bered."  "  It  must  be  remembered  always,"  he  says,  "  that 
it  is  not  a  Protestant,  but  a  Romish  Sermon,"  p.  28.  Its 

40  Romish  parentage  is  a  great  truth  for  the  memory,  not 
a  thesis  for  inquiry.  Merely  to  refer  his  readers  to  the 


94  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

Sermon  is,  he  considers,  to  secure  them  on  his  side.  Hence 
it  is  that,  in  his  letter  of  January  18,  he  said  to  me,  "  It 
seems  to  me,  that,  by  referring  publicly  to  the  Sermon  on 
which  my  aUegations  are  founded,  I  have  given  every  one 
an  opportunity  of  judging  of  their  injustice"  that  is,  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  that  they  are  transparently  just. 
The  notion  of  there  being  a  Via  Media,  held  all  along  by 
a  large  party  in  the  Anglican  Church,  and  now  at  least 
not  less  than  at  any  former  time,  is  too  subtle  for  his 
intellect.  Accordingly,  he  thinks  it  was  an  allowable  10 
figure  of  speech, — not  more,  I  suppose,  than  an  "  hyper 
bole," — when  referring  to  a  Sermon  of  the  Vicar  of  St.  Mary '3 
in  the  Magazine,  to  say  that  it  was  the  writing  of  a  Roman 
Priest ;  and  as  to  serious  arguments  to  prove  the  point, 
why,  they  may  indeed  be  necessary,  as  a  matter  of  form, 
in  an  Act  of  Accusation,  such  as  his  Pamphlet,  but  they  are 
superfluous  to  the  good  sense  of  any  one  who  will  only  just 
look  into  the  matter  himself. 

Now,  with  respect  to  the  so-called  arguments  which  he 
ventures  to  put  forward  in  proof  that  the  Sermon  is  Romish,  20 
I  shall  answer  them,  together  with  all  his  other  arguments, 
in  the  latter  portion  of  this  Reply ;  here  I  do  but  draw 
the  attention  of  the  reader,  as  I  have  said  already,  to  the  • 
phenomenon  itself,  which  he  exhibits,  of  an  unclouded 
confidence  that  the  Sermon  is  the  writing  of  a  virtual 
member  of  the  Roman  communion,  and  I  do  so  because 
it  has  made  a  great  impression  on  my  own  mind,  and  has 
suggested  to  me  the  course  that  I  shall  pursue  in  my 
answer  to  him. 

I  say,  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  the  Sermon  is  the  30 
writing  of  a  virtual  or  actual,  of  a  conscious  Roman 
Catholic  ;  and  is  impatient  at  the  very  notion  of  having 
to  provo  it.  •  Father  Newman  and  the  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's 
are  one  and  the  same  :  there  has  been  no  change  of  mind 
in  him  ;  what  he  believed  then  he  believes  now,  and  what 
he  believes  now  he  believed  then.  To  dispute  this  is 
frivolous  ;  to  distinguish  between  his  past  self  and  his 
present  is  subtlety,  and  to  ask  for  proof  of  their  identity 
is  seeking  opportunity  to  be  sophistical.  This  writer  really 
thinks  that  he  acts  a  straightforward  honest  part,  when  he  40 
says  "A  Catholic  Priest  informs  us  in  his  Sermon  on 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.  95 

Wisdom  and  Innocence  preached  at  St.  Mary's,"  and  he 
thinks  that  I  am  the  shuffler  and  quibbler  when  I  forbid 
him  to  do  so.  So  singular  a  phenomenon  in  a  man  of  un 
doubted  ability  has  struck  me  forcibly,  and  I  shall  pursue 
the  train  of  thought  which  it  opens.] 

It  is  not  he  alone  who  entertains,  and  has  entertained, 
such  an  opinion  of  me  and  (of)  my  writings.  It  is  the  im 
pression  of  large  classes  of  men  ;  the  impression  twenty 
years  ago  and  the  impression  now.  There  has  been  a  general 

10  feeling  that  I  was  for  years  where  I  had  no  right  to  be  ; 
that  I  was  a  "  Romanist  "  in  Protestant  livery  and  service  ; 
that  I  was  doing  the  work  of  a  hostile  Church  in  the  bosom 
of  the  English  Establishment,  and  knew  it,  or  ought  to 
have  known  it.  There  was  no  need  of  arguing  about 
particular  passages  in  my  writings,  when  the  fact  was  so 
patent,  as  men  thought  it  to  be. 

First  it  was  certain,  and  I  could  not  myself  deny  it,  that 
I  scouted  the  name  "  Protestant."  It  was  certain  again, 
that  many  of  the  doctrines  which  I  professed  were  popularly 

20  and  generally  known  as  badges  of  the  Roman  Church,  as 
distinguished  from  the  faith  of  the  Reformation.  Next,  how 
could  I  have  come  by  them  ?  Evidently,  I  had  certain 
friends  and  advisers  who  did  not  appear  ;  there  was  some 
underground  communication  between  Stonyhurst  or  Oscott 
and  my  rooms  at  Oriel.  Beyond  a  doubt,  I  was  advocating 
certain  doctrines,  not  by  accident,  but  on  an  understanding 
with  ecclesiastics  of  the  old  religion.  Then  men  went 
further,  and  said  that  I  had  actually  been  received  into 
that  religion,  and  withal  had  leave  given  me  to  profess 

so  myself  a  Protestant  still.  Others  went  even  further,  and 
gave  it  out  to  the  world,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  of  which  they 
themselves  had  the  proof  in  their  hands,  that  I  was  actually 
a  Jesuit.  And  when  the  opinions  which  I  advocated  spread, 
and  younger  men  went  further  than  I,  the  feeling  against 
me  waxed  stronger  and  took  a  wider  range. 

And  now  indignation  arose  at  the  knavery  of  a  conspiracy 
such  as  this  : — and  it  became  of  course  all  the  greater[,] 
in  consequence  of  its  being  the  received  belief  of  the  public 
at  large,  that  craft  and  intrigue,  such  as  they  fancied  they 

5  The  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  88-95,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 

6  he]  my  present  accuser  7  such]  so  dishonourable 


96  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

beheld  with  their  [own]  eyes,  were  the  very  instruments 
to  which  the  Catholic  Church  has  in  these  last  centuries 
been  indebted  for  her  maintenance  and  extension. 

There  was  another  circumstance  still,  which  increased 
the  irritation  and  aversion  felt  by  the  large  classes,  of  whom 
I  have  been  speaking,  as  regards  the  preachers  of  doctrines, 
so  new  to  them  and  so  unpalatable  ;  and  that  was,  that  they 
developed  them  in  so  measured  a  way.  If  they  were  in 
spired  by  Roman  theologians,  (and  this  was  taken  for 
granted,)  why  did  they  not  speak  out  at  once  ?  Why  did  10 
they  keep  the  world  in  such  suspense  and  anxiety  as  to 
what  was  coming  next,  and  what  was  to  be  the  upshot 
of  the  whole  ?  Why  this  reticence,  and  half -speaking,  and 
apparent  indecision  ?  It  was  plain  that  the  plan  of  opera 
tions  had  been  carefully  mapped  out  from  the  first,  and  that 
these  men  were  cautiously  advancing  towards  its  accom 
plishment,  as  far  as  was  safe  at  the  moment ;  that  their  aim 
and  their  hope  was  to  carry  off  a  large  body  with  them  of  the 
young  and  the  ignorant ;  that  they  meant  gradually  to  leaven 
the  minds  of  the  rising  generation,  and  to  open  the  gate  20 
of  that  city,  of  which  they  were  the  sworn  defenders,  to 
the  enemy  who  lay  in  ambush  outside  of  it.  And  when  in 
spite  of  the  many  protestations  of  the  party  to  the  contrary, 
there  was  at  length  an  actual  movement  among  their 
disciples,  and  one  went  over  to  Home,  and  then  another, 
the  worst  anticipations  and  the  worst  judgments  which  had 
been  formed  of  them  received  their  justification.  And, 
lastly,  when  men  first  had  said  of  me,  "  You  will  see,  he 
will  go,  he  is  only  biding  his  time,  he  is  waiting  the  word 
of  command  from  Rome/'  and,  when  after  all,  after  my  aj 
arguments  and  denunciations  of  former  years,  at  length 
I  did  leave  the  Anglican  Church  for  the  Roman,  then  they 
said  to  each  other,  "  It  is  just  as  we  said  :  I  told  you  so/' 

This  was  the  state  of  mind  of  masses  of  men  twenty 
years  ago,  who  took  no  more  than  an  external  and  common- 
sense  view  of  what  was  going  on.  And  partly  the  tradition, 
partly  the  effect  of  that  feeling,  remains  to  the  present  time. 
Certainly  I  consider  that,  in  my  own  case,  it  is  the  great 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  my  being  favourably  heard,  as  at 

6  as  regards]  against  20  gate]  gates 

33  I  told  you]  we  knew  it  would  be 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.          97 

present,  when  I  have  to  make  my  defence.  Not  only  am 
I  now  a  member  of  a  most  un-English  communion,  whose 
great  aim  is  considered  to  be  the  extinction  of  Protestantism 
and  the  Protestant  Church,  and  whose  means  of  attack 
are  popularly  supposed  to  be  unscrupulous  cunning  and 
deceit,  but  [besides,]  how  came  I  originally  to  have  any 
relations  with  the  Church  of  Rome  at  all  ?  did  I,  or  my 
opinions,  drop  from  the  sky  ?  how  came  I,  in  Oxford,  in 
gremio  Universitatis,  to  present  myself  to  the  eyes  of  men 

10  in  that  full-blown  investiture  of  Popery  ?  How  could 
I  dare,  how  could  I  have  the  conscience,  with  warnings, 
with  prophecies,  with  accusations  against  me,  to  presevere 
in  a  path  which  steadily  advanced  towards,  which  ended  in, 
the  religion  of  Rome  ?  And  how  am  I  now  to  be  trusted, 
when  long  ago  I  was  trusted,  and  was  found  wanting  ? 

It  is  this  which  is  the  strength  of  the  case  of  my  Accuser 
against  me ; — not  his  arguments  in  themselves,  which 
I  shall  easily  crumble  into  dust,  but  the  bias  of  the  court. 
It  is  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  ;  it  is  the  vibration  all 

ao  around(,}  which  will  [more  or  less]  echo  his  (bold)  assertion 
of  my  dishonesty ;  it  is  that  prepossession  against  me, 
which  takes  it  for  granted  that,  when  my  reasoning  is 
convincing  it  is  only  ingenious,  and  that  when  my  state 
ments  are  unanswerable,  there  is  always  something  put  out 
of  sight  or  hidden  in  my  sleeve  ;  it  is  that  plausible,  but 
cruel  conclusion  to  which  men  are  [so]  apt  to  jump,  that 
when  much  is  imputed,  something  must  be  true,  and  that 
it  is  more  likely  that  one  should  be  to  blame,  than  that 
many  should  be  mistaken  in  blaming  him  ; — these  are  the 

so  real  foes  which  I  have  to  fight,  and  the  auxiliaries  to  whom 
my  Accuser  makes  his  court. 

Well,  I  must  break  through  this  barrier  of  prejudice 
against  me[,]  if  I  can  ;  and  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  do  so. 
When  first  I  read  the  Pamphlet  of  Accusation,  I  almost 
despaired  of  meeting  effectively  such  a  heap  of  misrepresen 
tation  and  such  a  vehemence  of  animosity.  What  was  the 
good  of  answering  first  one  point,  and  then  another,  and 

17  his  arguments  in  themselves,]  the  articles  of  impeachment  which  he 
has  framed  from  my  writings,  and 

24  something]  much  31  court]  advances 

35  misrepresentation]  misrepresentations 

APOLOGIA  - 


98  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

going  through  the  whole  circle  of  its  abuse  ;  when  my 
answer  to  the  first  point  would  be  forgotten,  as  soon  as 
I  got  to  the  second  ?  What  was  the  use  of  bringing  out 
half  a  hundred  separate  principles  or  views  for  the  refutation 
of  the  separate  counts  in  the  Indictment,  when  rejoinders 
of  this  sort  would  but  confuse  and  torment  the  reader 
by  their  number  and  their  diversity  ?  What  hope  was  there 
of  condensing  into  a  pamphlet  of  a  readable  length,  matter 
which  ought  freely  to  expand  itself  into  half  a  dozen 
volumes  ?  What  means  was  there,  except  the  expenditure  10 
of  interminable  pages,  to  set  right  even  one  of  that  series 
of  "  single  passing  hints,"  to  use  my  Assailant's  own 
language,  which,  "  as  with  his  finger  tip[,]  he  had  delivered  " 
against  me  ? 

All  those  separate  charges  [of  his]  had  their  force  in 
being  illustrations  of  one  and  the  same  great  imputation. 
He  had  (already)  a  positive  idea  to  illuminate  his  whole 
matter,  and  to  stamp  it  with  a  form,  and  to  quicken  it 
with  an  interpretation.  He  called  me  a  liar, — a  simple, 
a  broad,  an  intelligible,  to  the  English  public  a  plausible  20 
arraignment  ;  but  for  me,  to  answer  in  detail  charge  one 
by  reason  one,  and  charge  two  by  reason  two,  and  charge 
three  by  reason  three,  and  so  to  proceed  through  the 
whole  string  both  of  accusations  and  replies,  each  of  which 
was  to  be  independent  of  the  rest,  this  would  be  certainly 
labour  lost  as  regards  any  effective  result.  What  I  needed 
was  a  corresponding  antagonist  unity  in  my  defence,  and 
where  was  that  to  be  found  ?  We  see,  in  the  case  of 
commentators  on  the  prophecies  of  Scripture,  an  exemplifi 
cation  of  the  principle  on  which  I  am  insisting  ;  viz.  how  so 
much  more  powerful  even  a  false  interpretation  of  the  sacred 
text  is  than  none  at  all ; — how  a  certain  key  to  the  visions 
of  the  Apocalypse,  for  instance,  may  cling  to  the  mind  [ — ] 
(I  have  found  it  so  in  my  own  case),  [ — mainly]  because 
they  are  positive  and  objective,  in  spite  of  the  fullest 
demonstration  that  they  really  have  no  claim  upon  our 
belief.  The  reader  says,  '"  What  else  can  the  prophecy 

18  form]  force  23  to  proceed]  on 

34  my  own  case]  the  case  of  my  own 

35  they  are]  the  view,  which  it  opens  on  us,  is 

36  they  really  have]  it  really  has  37  belief]  reception 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.          99 

mean  ?  "  just  as  my  Accuser  asks,   "  What,  then,  does 

Dr.  Newman  mean  ?  " I  reflected,  and  I  saw  a  way 

out  of  my  perplexity. 

Yes,  I  said  to  myself,  his  very  question  is  about  my 
meaning  ;  "  What  does  Dr.  Newman  mean  ?  "  It  pointed 
in  the  very  same  direction  as  that  into  which  my  musings 
had  turned  me  already.  He  asks  what  I  mean  ;  not  about 
my  words,  not  about  my  arguments,  not  about  my  actions, 

10  as  his  ultimate  point,  but  about  that  living  intelligence, 
by  which  I  write,  and  argue,  and  act.  He  asks  about  my 
Mind  and  its  Beliefs  and  its  Sentiments  ;  and  he  shall  be 
answered  ; — not  for  his  own  sake,  but  for  mine,  for  the  sake 
of  the  Religion  which  I  profess,  and  of  the  Priesthood  in 
which  I  am  unworthily  included,  and  of  my  friends  and  of  my 
foes,  and  of  that  general  public  which  consists  of  neither  one 
nor  the  other,  but  of  well-wishers,  lovers  of  fair  play,  sceptical 
cross -questioners,  interested  inquirers,  curious  lookers-on, 
and  simple  strangers,  unconcerned  yet  not  careless  about 

20  the  issue  (, — for  the  sake  of  all  these  he  shall  be  answered). 
My  perplexity  did  not  last  half  an  hour.  I  recognized 
what  I  had  to  do,  though  I  shrank  from  both  the  task  and 
the  exposure  which  it  would  entail.  I  must,  I  said,  give 
the  true  key  to  my  whole  life ;  I  must  show  what  I  am  (,) 
that  it  may  be  seen  what  I  am  not,  and  that  the  phantom 
may  be  extinguished  which  gibbers  instead  of  me.  I  wish 
to  be  known  as  a  living  man,  and  not  as  a  scarecrow  which 
is  dressed  up  in  my  clothes.  False  ideas  may  be  refuted 


on  me  one 

by  one  (*),  lest  any  one  should  say  that  they  are  unanswer 
able,  but  such  a  work  shall  not  be  the  scope  nor  the  sub 
stance  of  my  reply.  I  will  draw  out,  as  far  as  may  be,  the 
history  of  my  mind  ;  I  will  state  the  point  at  which  I 
began,  in  what  external  suggestion  or  accident  each  opinion 
had  its  rise,  how  far  and  how  they  [were]  developed  from 
within,  how  they  grew,  were  modified,  were  combined, 

5  pointed]  points  11  Sentiments]  sentiments 

20  did  not  last]  had  not  lasted 

Footnote  in  1865.    <L  This  was  done  in  the  Appendix,  of  which  the  more 
important  parts  are  preserved  in  the  Notes.) 


100  APOLOGIA  PRO  VITA  SUA. 

were  in  collision  with  each  other,  and  were  changed  ;  again 
how  I  conducted  myself  towards  them,  and  how,  and  how 
far,  and  for  how  long  a  time,  I  thought  I  could  hold  them 
consistently  with  the  ecclesiastical  engagements  which 
I  had  made  and  with  the  position  which  I  filled.  I  must 
show, — what  is  the  very  truth, — that  the  doctrines  which 
I  held,  and  have  held  for  so  many  years,  have  been  taught 
me  (speaking  humanly)  partly  by  the  suggestions  of  Protes 
tant  friends,  partly  by  the  teaching  of  books,  and  partly 
by  the  action  of  my  own  mind  :  and  thus  I  shall  account  10 
for  that  phenomenon  which  to  so  many  seems  so  wonderful, 
that  I  should  have  left  "  my  kindred  and  my  father's 
house  "  for  a  Church  from  which  once  I  turned  away  with 
dread  ; — so  wonderful  to  them !  as  if  forsooth  a  Religion 
which  has  flourished  through  so  many  ages,  among  so  many 
nations,  amid  such  varieties  of  social  life,  in  such  contrary 
classes  and  conditions  of  men,  and  after  so  many  revolu 
tions,  political  and  civil,  could  not  subdue  the  reason  and 
overcome  the  heart,  without  the  aid  of  fraud  (in  the 
process)  and  the  sophistries  of  the  schools.  20 

What  I  had  proposed  to  myself  in  the  course  of  half 
an  hour,  I  determined  on  at  the  end  of  ten  days.  However, 
I  have  many  difficulties  in  fulfilling  my  design.  How  am 
I  to  say  all  that  has  to  be  said  in  a  reasonable  compass  ? 
And  then  as  to  the  materials  of  my  narrative  ;  I  have  no 
autobiographical  notes  to  consult,  no  written  explanations 
of  particular  treatises  or  of  tracts  which  at  the  time  gave 
offence,  hardly  any  minutes  of  definite  transactions  or 
conversations,  and  few  contemporary  memoranda,  I  fear, 
of  the  feelings  or  motives  under  which  from  time  to  time  30 
I  acted.  I  have  an  abundance  of  letters  from  friends  with 
some  copies  or  drafts  of  my  answers  to  them,  but  they 
are  for  the  most  part  unsorted,  and,  till  this  process  has 
taken  place,  they  are  even  too  numerous  and  various  to  be 
available  at  a  moment  for  my  purpose.  Then,  as  to  the 
volumes  which  I  have  published,  they  would  in  many 
ways  serve  me,  were  I  well  up  in  them  ;  but  though 
I  took  great  pains  in  their  composition,  I  have  thought 
little  about  them,  when  they  were  at  length  out  of  my  hands, 
5  filled]  held  39  at  length]  once 


TRUE  MODE  OF  MEETING  MR.  KINGSLEY.         101 

and,  for  the  most  part,  the  last  time  I  read  them  has  been 
when  I  revised  their  (last)  proof  sheets. 

Under  these  circumstances  my  sketch  will  of  course  be 
incomplete.  I  now  for  the  first  time  contemplate  my  course 
as  a  whole  ;  it  is  a  first  essay,  but  it  will  contain,  I  trust, 
no  serious  or  substantial  mistake,  and  so  far  will  answer 
the  purpose  for  which  I  write  it.  I  purpose  to  set  nothing 
down  in  it  as  certain,  for  which  I  have  not  a  clear  memory, 
or  some  written  memorial,  or  the  corroboration  of  some  friend. 

10  There  are  witnesses  enough  up  and  down  the  country  to 
verify,  or  correct,  or  complete  it ;  and  letters  moreover 
of  my  own  in  abundance,  unless  they  have  been  destroyed. 
Moreover,  I  mean  to  be  simply  personal  and  historical : 
I  am  not  expounding  Catholic  doctrine,  I  am  doing  no 
more  than  explaining  myself,  and  my  opinions  and  actions. 
I  wish,  as  far  as  I  am  able,  simply  to  state  facts,  whether 
they  are  ultimately  determined  to  be  for  me  or  against  me. 
Of  course  there  will  be  room  enough  for  contrariety  of 
judgment  among  my  readers,  as  to  the  necessity,  or 

20  appositeness,  or  value,  or  good  taste,  or  religious  prudence(,) 
of  the  details  which  I  shall  introduce.  I  may  be  accused 
of  laying  stress  on  little  things,  of  being  beside  the  mark, 
of  going  into  impertinent  or  ridiculous  details,  of  sounding 
my  own  praise,  of  giving  scandal ;  but  this  is  a  case  above 
all  others,  in  which  I  am  bound  to  follow  my  own  lights 
and  to  speak  out  my  own  heart.  It  is  not  at  all  pleasant 
for  me  to  be  egotistical ;  nor  to  be  criticized  for  being  so. 
It  is  not  pleasant  to  reveal  to  high  and  low,  young  and  old, 
what  has  gone  on  within  me  from  my  early  years.  It  is 

so  not  pleasant  to  be  giving  to  every  shallow  or  flippant 
disputant  the  advantage  over  me  of  knowing  my  most 
private  thoughts,  I  might  even  say  the  intercourse  between 
myself  and  my  Maker.  But  I  do  not  like  to  be  called 
to  my  face  a  liar  and  a  knave  :  nor  should  I  be  doing  my 
duty  to  my  faith  or  to  my  name,  if  I  were  to  suffer  it. 
I  know  I  have  done  nothing  to  deserve  such  an  insult ; 
and  if  I  prove  this,  as  I  hope  to  do,  I  must  not  care  for 
such  incidental  annoyances  as  are  involved  in  the  process. 

(Here  ends  Part  II  of  the  1864  and  the  Preface  of  the 
1865  edition.) 


PART  III. 

HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS, 

[Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  May  5,  1864] 


PART  III. 


HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS   OPINIONS  (TO  THE  YEAR  1833). 

IT  may  easily  be  conceived  how  great  a  trial  it  is  to  me  to 
write  the  following  history  of  myself  ;  but  I  must  not 
shrink  from  the  task.  The  words,  "  Secretum  meum  mini," 
keep  ringing  in  my  ears  ;  but  as  men  draw  towards  their 
end,  they  care  less  for  disclosures.  Nor  is  it  the  least  part 
of  my  trial,  to  anticipate  that  [my  friends  may],  upon  first 
reading  what  I  have  written,  (my  friends  may)  consider 
much  in  it  irrelevant  to  my  purpose  ;  yet  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that,  viewed  as  a  whole,  it  will  effect  what  I  wish 
10  it  to  do. 

I  was  brought  up  from  a  child  to  take  great  delight  in 
reading  the  Bible  ;  but  I  had  no  formed  religious  convic 
tions  till  I  was  fifteen.  Of  course  I  had  (a)  perfect  knowledge 
of  my  Catechism. 

After  I  was  grown  up,  I  put  on  paper  such  recollections 
[as  I  had]  of  my  thoughts  and  feelings  on  religious  subjects, 
(which  I  had)  at  the  time  that  I  was  a  child  and  a  boy(, — 
such  as  had  remained  on  my  mind  with  sufficient  promi 
nence  to  make  me  then  consider  them  worth  recording). 
20  Out  of  these  (,  written  in  the  Long  Vacation  of  1820,  and 
transcribed  with  additions  in  1823,)  I  select  two,  which  are 
at  once  the  most  definite  among  them,  and  also  have 
a  bearing  on  my  later  convictions. 

[In  the  paper  to  which  I  have  referred,  written  either 
in  the  Long  Vacatkfn  of  1820,  or  in  October,  1823,  the 
following  notices  of  my  school  days  were  sufficiently 
prominent  in  my  memory  for  me  to  consider  them  worth 
recording: — ]  (1.)  "I  used  to  wish  the  Arabian  Tales 

Part  III]  Chapter  I 

10  wish  it  to  do]  propose  to  myself  in  giving  it  to  the  public 
15  such]  my  16  my]  the 

28  I.  "I  used  to  wish      This  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  18G5. 

E3 


106  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

were  true  :  my  imagination  ran  on  unknown  influences,  on 

magical  powers,  and  talismans I  thought  life  might  be 

a  dream,  or  I  an  Angel,  and  all  this  world  a  deception,  my 
fellow-angels  by  a  playful  device  concealing  themselves 
from  me,  and  deceiving  me  with  the  semblance  of  a  material 
world." 

Again,  "  Reading  in  the  Spring  of  1816  a  sentence  from 
[Dr.  Watts's]  '  Remnants  of  Time,'  entitled  '  the  Saints 
unknown  to  the  world,'  to  the  effect,  that  '  there  is  nothing 
in  their  figure  or  countenance  to  distinguish  them,'  &c.  &c.,  10 
I  supposed  he  spoke  of  Angels  who  lived  in  the  world,  as 
it  were  disguised." 

(2.)  The  other  remark  is  this  :  "  I  was  very  superstitious, 
and  for  some  time  previous  to  my  conversion  "  [when 
I  was  fifteen]  "  used  constantly  to  cross  myself  on  going 
into  the  dark." 

Of  course  I  must  have  got  this  practice  from  some 
external  source  or  other  ;  but  I  can  make  no  sort  of 
conjecture  whence  ;  and  certainly  no  one  had  ever  spoken 
to  me  on  the  subject  of  the  Catholic  religion,  which  I  only  20 
knew  by  name.  The  French  master  was  an  emigre  Priest, 
but  he  was  simply  made  a  butt,  as  French  masters  too 
commonly  were  in  that  day,  and  spoke  English  very 
imperfectly.  There  was  a  Catholic  family  in  the  village, 
old  maiden  ladies  we  used  to  think  ;  but  I  knew  nothing 
but  their  name.  I  have  of  late  years  heard  that  there  were 
one  or  two  Catholic  boys  in  the  school ;  but  either  we  were 
carefully  kept  from  knowing  this,  or  the  knowledge  of  it 
made  simply  no  impression  on  our  minds.  My  brother 
will  bear  witness  how  free  the  school  was  from  Catholic  30 
ideas. 

I  had  once  been  into  Warwick  Street  Chapel,  with  my 
father,  who,  I  believe,  wanted  to  hear  some  piece  of  music  ; 
all  that  I  bore  away  from  it  was  the  recollection  of  a  pulpit 
and  a  preacher(,}  and  a  boy  swinging  a  censer. 

When  I  was  at  Littlemore,  I  was  looking  over  old  copy 
books  of  my  school  days,  and  I  found  among  them  my  first 
Latin  verse-book  ;  and  in  the  first  page  of  it[J  there  was 
a  device  which  almost  took  my  breath  away  with  surprise. 

8, 14, 1 5  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]       27  but  their  name]  about  them 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  107 

I  have  the  book  before  me  now,  and  have  just  been  showing 
it  to  others.  I  have  written  in  the  first  page,  in  my  school 
boy  hand,  "John  H.  Newman,  February  llth,  1811, 
Verse  Book  ;  "  then  follow  my  first  Verses.  Between 
"  Verse  "  and  "  Book  "  I  have  drawn  the  figure  of  a  solid 
cross  upright,  and  next  to  it  is,  what  may  indeed  be  meant 
for  a  necklace,  but  what  I  cannot  make  out  to  be  any  thing 
else  than  a  set  of  beads  suspended,  with  a  little  cross 
attached.  At  this  time  I  was  not  quite  ten  years  old. 

10  I  suppose  I  got  the  idea  from  some  romance,  Mrs.  Radcliffe's 
or  Miss  Porter's  ;  or  from  some  religious  picture  ;  but  the 
strange  thing  is,  how,  among  the  thousand  objects  which 
meet  a  boy's  eyes,  these  in  particular  should  so  have  fixed 
themselves  in  my  mind,  that  I  made  them  thus  practically 
my  own.  I  am  certain  there  was  nothing  in  the  churches 
I  attended,  or  the  prayer  books  I  read,  to  suggest  them. 
It  must  be  recollected  that  (Anglican)  churches  and  prayer 
books  were  not  decorated  in  those  days  as  I  believe  they 
are  now. 

20  When  I  was  fourteen,  I  read  Paine' s  Tracts  against  the 
Old  Testament,  and  found  pleasure  in  thinking  of  the 
objections  which  were  contained  in  them.  Also,  I  read 
some  of  Hume's  Essays  ;  and  perhaps  that  on  Miracles. 
So  at  least  I  gave  my  father  to  understand  ;  but  perhaps 
it  was  a  brag.  Also,  I  recollect  copying  out  some  French 
verses,  perhaps  Voltaire's,  against  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  and  saying  to  myself  something  like  "  How  dreadful, 
but  how  plausible  !  " 

When  I  was  fifteen,  (in  the  autumn  of  1816,)  a  great 

30  change  of  thought  took  place  in  me.  I  fell  under  the  influ 
ences  of  a  definite  Creed,  and  received  into  my  intellect 
impressions  of  dogma,  which,  through  God's  mercy,  have 
never  been  effaced  or  obscured.  Above  and  beyond  the 
conversations  and  sermons  of  the  excellent  man,  long  dead, 
(the  Rev.  Walter  Mayers,  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford,) 
who  was  the  human  means  of  this  beginning  of  divine 
faith  in  me,  was  the  effect  of  the  books  which  he  put  into 
my  hands,  all  of  the  school  of  Calvin.  One  of  the  first 
books  I  read[,]  was  a  work  of  Romaine's  ;  I  neither  recollect 

10  the  idea]  these  ideas  26  against]  in  denial  of 


108  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

the  title  nor  the  contents,  except  one  doctrine,  which  of 
course  I  do  not  include  among  those  which  I  believe  to 
have  come  from  a  divine  source,  viz.  the  doctrine  of  final 
perseverance.  I  received  it  at  once,  and  believed  that  the 
inward  conversion  of  which  I  was  conscious,  (and  of  which 
I  still  am  more  certain  than  that  I  have  hands  and  feet,) 
would  last  into  the  next  life,  and  that  I  was  elected  to 
eternal  glory.  I  have  no  consciousness  that  this  belief 
had  any  tendency  whatever  to  lead  me  to  be  careless  about 
pleasing  God.  I  retained  it  till  the  age  of  twenty-one,  10 
when  it  gradually  faded  away  ;  but  I  believe  that  it  had 
some  influence  on  my  opinions,  in  the  direction  of  those 
childish  imaginations  which  I  have  already  mentioned, 
viz.  in  isolating  me  from  the  objects  which  surrounded  me, 
in  confirming  me  in  my  mistrust  of  the  reality  of  material 
phenomena,  and  making  me  rest  in  the  thought  of  two 
and  two  only  supreme  and  luminously  self-evident  beings, 
myself  and  my  Creator  ; — for  while  I  considered  myself 
predestined  to  salvation,  I  thought  others  simply  passed 
over,  not  predestined  to  eternal  death.  I  only  thought  of  20 
the  mercy  to  myself. 

The  detestable  doctrine  last  mentioned  is  simply  denied 
and  abjured,  unless  my  memory  strangely  deceives  me, 
by  the  writer  who  made  a  deeper  impression  on  my  mind 
than  any  other,  and  to  whom  (humanly  speaking)  I  almost 
owe  my  soul, — Thomas  Scott  of  Aston  Sandford.  I  so 
admired  and  delighted  in  his  writings,  that,  when  I  was  an 
undergraduate,  I  thought  of  making  a  visit  to  his  Parsonage, 
in  order  to  see  a  man  whom  I  so  deeply  revered.  I  hardly 
think  I  could  have  given  up  the  idea  of  this  expedition,  30 
even  after  I  had.  taken  my  degree  ;  for  the  news  of  his 
death  in  1821  came  upon  me  as  a  disappointment  as  well 
as  a  sorrow.  I  hung  upon  the  lips  of  Daniel  Wilson,  after 
wards  Bishop  of  Calcutta,  as  in  two  sermons  at  St.  John's 
Chapel  he  gave  the  history  of  Scott's  life  and  death.  I  had 
been  possessed  of  his  ("Force  of  Truth"  and)  Essays  from 
a  boy  ;  his  Commentary  I  bought  when  I  was  an  under 
graduate. 

What,  I  suppose,  will  strike  any  reader  of  Scott's  history 

17  supreme]  absolute  19  I  thought  others]  my  mind  did  not 

dwell  upon  others,  as  fancying  them 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  109 

and  writings,  is  his  bold  unworldliness  and  vigorous 
independence  of  mind.  He  followed  truth  wherever  it 
led  him,  beginning  with  Unitarianism,  and  ending  in  a 
zealous  faith  in  the  Holy  Trinity.  It  was  he  who  first 
planted  deep  in  my  mind  that  fundamental  Truth  of 
religion.  With  the  assistance  of  Scott's  Essays,  and  the 
admirable  work  of  Jones  of  JSTayland,  I  made  a  collection 
of  Scripture  texts  in  proof  of  the  doctrine,  with  remarks 
(I  think)  of  my  own  upon  them,  before  I  was  sixteen  ; 

10  and  a  few  months  later  I  drew  up  a  series  of  texts  in  support 
of  each  verse  of  the  Athanasian  Creed.  These  papers 
I  have  still. 

Besides  his  unworldliness,  what  I  also  admired  in  Scott 
was  his  resolute  opposition  to  Antinomianism,  and  the 
minutely  practical  character  of  his  writings.  They  show 
him  to  be  a  true  Englishman,  and  I  deeply  felt  his  influence  ; 
and  for  years  I  used  almost  as  proverbs  what  I  considered 
to  be  the  scope  and  issue  of  his  doctrine,  "  Holiness  before 
peace,"  and  "  Growth  [is]  the  only  evidence  of  life." 

20  Calvinists  make  a  sharp  separation  between  the  elect 
and  the  world  ;  there  is  much  in  this  that  is  parallel  or 
cognate  to  the  Catholic  doctrine  ;  but  they  go  on  to  say, 
as  I  understand  them,  very  differently  from  Catholicism, — 
that  the  converted  and  the  unconverted  can  be  discrimin 
ated  by  man,  that  the  justified  are  conscious  of  their  state 
of  justification,  and  that  the  regenerate  cannot  fall  away. 
Catholics  on  the  other  hand  shade  and  soften  the  awful 
antagonism  between  good  and  evil,  which  is  one  of  their 
dogmas,  by  holding  that  there  are  different  degrees  of 

so  justification,  that  there  is  a  great  difference  in  point  of 
gravity  between  sin  and  sin,  that  there  is  the  possibility 
and  the  danger  of  falling  away,  and  that  there  is  no  certain 
knowledge  given  to  any  one  that  he  is  simply  in  a  state  of 
grace,  and  much  less  that  he  is  to  persevere  to  the  end  : — 
of  the  Calvinistic  tenets  the  only  one  which  took  root  in 
my  mind  was  the  fact  of  heaven  and  hell,  divine  favour 
and  divine  wrath,  of  the  justified  and  the  unjustified.  The 
notion  that  the  regenerate  and  the  justified  were  one  and 
the  same,  and  that  the  regenerate,  as  such,  had  the  gift 

5  Truth]  truth  18  before]  rather  than 

21-22  parallel  or  cognate]  cognate  or  parallel 


110  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

of  perseverance,  remained  with  me  not  many  years,  as  I 
have  said  already. 

This  main  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  warfare  between  the 
city  of  God  and  the  powers  of  darkness  was  also  deeply 
impressed  upon  my  mind  by  a  work  of  a  very  opposite 
character  (to  Calvinism),  Law's  "  Serious  Call." 

From  this  time  I  have  given  a  full  inward  assent  and 
belief  [to]  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment,  as  delivered 
by  our  Lord  Himself,  in  as  true  a  sense  as  I  hold  that  of 
eternal  happiness  ;    though  I  have  tried  in  various  ways  10 
to  make  that  truth  less  terrible  to  the  reason. 

Now  I  come  to  two  other  works,  which  produced  a  deep 
impression  on  me  in  the  same  autumn  of  1816,  when  I  was 
fifteen  years  old,  each  contrary  to  each,  and  planting  in 
me  the  seeds  of  an  intellectual  inconsistency  which  disabled 
me  for  a  long  course  of  years.  I  read  Joseph  Milner's 
Church  History,  and  was  nothing  short  of  enamoured  of 
the  long  extracts  from  St.  Augustine  (,  St.  Ambrose,)  and 
the  other  Fathers  which  I  found  there.  I  read  them  as 
being  the  religion  of  the  primitive  Christians  :  but  simul-  20 
taneously  with  Milner  I  read  Newton  on  the  Prophecies, 
and  in  consequence  became  most  firmly  convinced  that 
the  Pope  was  the  Antichrist  predicted  by  Daniel,  St.  Paul, 
and  St.  John.  My  imagination  was  stained  by  the  effects 
of  this  doctrine  up  to  the  year  1843  ;  it  had  been  obliterated 
from  my  reason  and  judgment  at  an  earlier  date  ;  but  the 
thought  remained  upon  me  as  a  sort  of  false  conscience. 
Hence  came  that  conflict  of  mind,  which  so  many  have  felt 
besides  myself  ; — leading  some  men  to  make  a  compromise 
between  two  ideas,  so  inconsistent  with  each  other, —  30 
driving  others  to  beat  out  the  one  idea  or  the  other  from 
their  minds, — and  ending  in  my  own  case,  after  many  years 
of  intellectual  unrest,  in  the  gradual  decay  and  extinction 
of  one  of  them, — I  do  not  say  in  its  violent  death,  for  why 
should  I  not  have  murdered  it  sooner,  if  I  murdered  it 
at  all « 

I  am  obliged  to  mention,  though  I  do  it  with  great 
reluctance,  another  deep  imagination,  which  at  this  time, 
the  autumn  of  1816,  took  possession  of  me, — there  can  be 

5  very  opposite  character]  character  very  opposite 

7  given]  held  with  11  reason]  intellect 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  Ill 

no  mistake  about  the  fact ;[ — ]  viz.  that  it  was  the  will  of 
God  that  I  should  lead  a  single  life.  This  anticipation, 
which  has  held  its  ground  almost  continuously  ever  since, — 
with  the  break  of  a  month  now  and  a  month  then,  up  to 
1829,  and,  after  that  date,  without  any  break  at  all, — 
was  more  or  less  connected[,]  in  my  mind[,]  with  the 
notion(,}  that  my  calling  in  life  would  require  such  a  sacrifice 
as  celibacy  involved  ;  as,  for  instance,  missionary  work 
among  the  heathen,  to  which  I  had  a  great  drawing  for 
10  some  years.  It  also  strengthened  my  feeling  of  separation 
from  the  visible  world,  of  which  I  have  spoken  above. 

In  1822 1  came  under  very  different  influences  from  those 
to  which  I  had  hitherto  been  subjected.  At  that  time, 
Mr.  Whately,  as  he  was  then,  afterwards  Archbishop  of 
Dublin,  for  the  few  months  he  remained  in  Oxford,  which 
he  was  leaving  for  good,  showed  great  kindness  to  me.  He 
renewed  it  in  1825,  when  he  became  Principal  of  Alban 
Hall,  making  me  his  Vice-Principal  and  Tutor.  Of  Dr. 
Whately  I  will  speak  presently,  for  from  1822  to  1825  I  saw 

20  most  of  the  present  Provost  of  Oriel,  Dr.  Hawkins,  at  that 
time  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's  ;  and,  when  I  took  orders  in  1824 
and  had  a  curacy  at  Oxford,  then,  during  the  Long  Vaca 
tions,  I  was  especially  thrown  into  his  company.  I  can  say 
with  a  full  heart  that'I  love  him,  and  have  never  ceased 
to  love  him  ;  and  I  thus  preface  what  otherwise  might 
sound  rude,  that  in  the  course  of  the  many  years  in  which 
we  were  together  afterwards,  he  provoked  me  very  much 
from  time  to  time,  though  I  am  perfectly  certain  that  I  have 
provoked  him  a  great  deal  more.  Moreover,  in  me  such 

30  provocation  was  unbecoming,  both  because  he  was  the 
Head  of  my  College,  and  because(,)  in  the  first  years  that 
I  knew  him,  he  had  been  in  many  ways  of  great  service 
to  my  mind. 

He  was  the  first  who  taught  me  to  weigh  my  words,  and 
to  be  cautious  in  my  statements.  He  led  me  to  that  mode 
of  limiting  and  clearing  my  sense  in  discussion  and  in 
controversy,  and  of  distinguishing  between  cognate  ideas, 
and  of  obviating  mistakes  by  anticipation,  which  to  my 

1  was]  would  be  22  at]  in 


112  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

surprise  has  been  since  considered,  even  in  quarters  friendly 
to  me,  to  savour  of  the  polemics  of  Rome.  He  is  a  man 
of  most  exact  mind  himself,  and  he  used  to  snub  me 
severely,  on  reading,  as  he  was  kind  enough  to  do,  the  first 
Sermons  that  I  wrote,  and  other  compositions  which  I  was 
engaged  upon. 

Then  as  to  doctrine,  he  was  the  means  of  great  additions 
to  my  belief.  As  I  have  noticed  elsewhere,  he  gave  me  the 
"  Treatise  on  Apostolical  Preaching,"  by  Sumner,  after 
wards  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  from  which  I  learned  to  10 
give  up  my  remaining  Calvinism,  and  to  receive  the 
doctrine  of  Baptismal  Regeneration.  In  many  other  ways 
too  he  was  of  use  to  me,  on  subjects  semi -religious  and 
semi-scholastic . 

It  was  Dr.  Hawkins  too  who  taught  me  to  anticipate 
that,  before  many  years  were  over  .there  would  be  an  attack 
made  upon  the  books  and  the  canon  of  Scripture.  I  was 
brought  to  the  same  belief  by  the  conversation  of  Mr.  Blanco 
White,  who  also  led  me  to  have  freer  views  on  the  subject 
of  inspiration  than  were  usual  in  the  Church  of  England  at  20 
the  time. 

There  is  one  other  principle,  which  I  gained  from 
Dr.  Hawkins,  more  directly  bearing  upon  Catholicism,  than 
any  that  I  have  mentioned  ;  and  that  is  the  doctrine  of 
Tradition.  When  I  was  an  Undergraduate,  I  heard  him 
preach  in  the  University  Pulpit  his  celebrated  sermon  on 
the  subject,  and  recollect  how  long  it  appeared  to  me, 
though  he  was  at  that  time  a  very  striking  preacher  ;  but, 
when  I  read  it  and  studied  it  as  his  gift,  it  made  a  most 
serious  impression  upon  me.  He  does  not  go  one  step,  30 
I  think,  beyond  the  high  Anglican  doctrine,  nay  he  does 
not  reach  it ;  but  he  does  his  work  thoroughly,  and  his 
view  was  (in  him)  original  [with  him],  and  his  subject  was 
a  novel  one  at  the  time.  He  lays  down  a  proposition,  self- 
evident  as  soon  as  stated,  to  those  who  have  at  all  examined 
the  structure  of  Scripture,  viz.  that  the  sacred  text  was 
never  intended  to  teach  doctrine,  but  only  to  prove  it, 
and  that,  if  we  would  learn  doctrine,  we  must  have  recourse 
to  the  formularies  of  the  Church  ;  for  instance  to  the 

10  learned]  was  led 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  113 

Catechism,  and  to  the  Creeds.  He  considers,  that,  after 
learning  from  them  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  the 
inquirer  must  verify  them  by  Scripture.  This  view,  most 
true  in  its  outline,  most  fruitful  in  its  consequences,  opened 
upon  me  a  large  field  of  thought.  Dr.  Whately  held  it  too. 
One  of  its  effects  was  to  strike  at  the  root  of  the  principle 
on  which  the  Bible  Society  was  set  up.  I  belonged  to  its 
Oxford  Association  ;  it  became  a  matter  of  time  when 
I  should  withdraw  my  name  from  its  subscription-list, 

10  though  I  did  not  do  so  at  once. 

It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  pay  here  a  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  the  Rev.  William  James,  then  Fellow  of  Oriel ; 
who,  about  the  year  1823,  taught  me  the  doctrine  of 
Apostolical  Succession,  in  the  course  of  a  walk,  I  think, 
round  Christ  Church  meadow  :  I  recollect  being  somewhat 
impatient  on  the  subject  at  the  time. 

It  was  at  about  this  date,  I  suppose,  that  I  read  Bishop 
Butler's  Analogy  ;  the  study  of  which  has  been  to  so 
many,  as  it  was  to  me,  an  era  in  their  religious  opinions.  Its 

20  inculcation  of  a  visible  Church,  the  oracle  of  truth  and 
a  pattern  of  sanctity,  of  the  duties  of  external  religion,  and 
of  the  historical  character  of  Revelation,  are  charac 
teristics  of  this  great  work  which  strike  the  reader  at  once  ; 
for  myself,  if  I  may  attempt  to  determine  what  I  most 
gained  from  it,  it  lay  in  two  points,  which  I  shall  have 
an  opportunity  of  dwelling  on  in  the  sequel ;  they  are  the 
underlying  principles  of  a  great  portion  of  my  teaching. 
First,  the  very  idea  of  an  analogy  between  the  separate 
works  of  God  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  the  system  which 

so  is  of  less  importance  is  economically  or  sacramentally  con 
nected  with  the  more  momentous  system  (*),  and  of  this 
conclusion  the  theory,  to  which  I  was  inclined  as  a  boy, 
viz.  the  unreality  of  material  phenomena,  is  an  ultimate 
resolution.  At  this  time  I  did  not  make  the  distinction 
between  matter  itself  and  its  phenomena,  which  is  so 
necessary  and  so  obvious  in  discussing  the  subject.  Secondly, 
Butler's  doctrine  that  Probability  is  the  guide  of  life,  led 
me,  at  least  under  the  teaching  to  which  a  few  years  later 
I  was  introduced,  to  the  question  of  the  logical  cogency  of 

16  on]  of  Footnote  in  186$.     (l  It  is  significant  that 

Butler  begins  his  work  with  a  quotation  from  Origen. ) 


114  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

Faith,  on  which  I  have  written  so  much.  Thus  to  Butler 
I  trace  those  two  principles  of  my  teaching,  which  have 
led  to  a  charge  against  me  both  of  fancifulness  and  of 
scepticism. 

And  now  as  to  Dr.  WhateJy.  I  owe  him  a  great  deal. 
He  was  a  man  of  generous  and  warm  heart.  He  was 
particularly  loyal  to  his  friends,  and  to  use  the  common 
phrase,  "  all  his  geese  were  swans."  While  I  was  still 
awkward  and  timid  in  1822,  he  took  me  by  the  hand,  and 
acted  (towards  me)  the  part  [to  me]  of  a  gentle  and  encour- 10 
aging  instructor.  He,  emphatically,  opened  my  mind,  and 
taught  me  to  think  and  to  use  my  reason.  After  being 
first  noticed  by  him  in  1822,  I  became  very  intimate  with 
him  in  1825,  when  I  was  his  Vice -Principal  at  Alban  Hall. 
I  gave  up  that  office  in  1826,  when  I  became  Tutor  of  my 
College,  and  his  hold  upon  me  gradually  relaxed.  He  had 
done  his  work  towards  me  or  nearly  so,  when  he  had  taught 
me  to  see  with  my  own  eyes  and  to  walk  with  my  own  feet. 
Not  that  I  had  not  a  good  deal  to  learn  from  others  still, 
but  I  influenced  them  as  well  as  they  me,  and  co-operated  20 
rather  than  merely  concurred  with  them.  As  to  Dr. 
Whately,  his  mind  was  too  different  from  mine  for  us  to 
remain  long  on  one  line.  I  recollect  how  dissatisfied  he 
was  with  an  Article  of  mine  in  the  London  Review,  which 
Blanco  White,  good-humouredly,  only  called  Platonic. 
When  I  was  diverging  from  him  (in  opinion)  (which  he  did 
not  like),  I  thought  of  dedicating  my  first  book  to  him,  in 
words  to  the  effect  that  he  had  not  only  taught  me  to 
think,  but  to  think  for  myself.  He  left  Oxford  in  1831 ; 
after  that,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect,  I  never  saw  him  but  so 
twice, — when  he  visited  the  University  ;  once  in  the  street 
(in  1834),  once  in  a  room  (in  1838).  From  the  time  that 
he  left,  I  have  always  felt  a  real  affection  for  what  I  must 
call  his  memory  ;  for  thenceforward  he  made  himself  dead 
to  me.  (He  had  practically  indeed  given  me  up  from  the 
time  that  he  became  Archbishop  in  1831  ;  but  in  1834 
a  correspondence  took  place  between  us,  which,  though 
conducted  in  the  most  friendly  language  on  both  sides, 
was  the  expression  of  differences  of  opinion  which  acted  as 

34  thenceforward]  ,at  least  from  the  year  1834, 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  115 

a  final  close  to  our  intercourse.)  My  reason  told  me  that 
it  was  impossible  [that]  we  could  have  got  on  together 
longer  (,  had  he  stayed  in  Oxford)  ;  yet  I  loved  him  too 
much  to  bid  him  farewell  without  pain.  After  a  few  years 
had  passed,  I  began  to  believe  that  his  influence  on  me  in 
a  higher  respect  than  intellectual  advance,  (I  will  not  say 
through  his  fault,)  had  not  been  satisfactory.  I  believe 
that  he  has  inserted  sharp  things  in  his  later  works  about 
me.  They  have  never  come  in  my  way,  and  I  have  not 

10  thought  it  necessary  to  seek  out  what  would  pain  me  so 
much  in  the  reading. 

What  he  did  for  me  in  point  of  religious  opinion,  was  (,) 
first  (,)  to  teach  me  the  existence  of  the  Church,  as  a  sub 
stantive  body  or  corporation  ;  next  to  fix  in  me  those  anti- 
Erastian  views  of  Church  polity,  which  were  one  of  the 
most  prominent  features  of  the  Tractarian  movement.  On 
this  point,  and,  as  far  as  I  know,  on  this  point  alone,  he 
and  Hurrell  Froude  intimately  sympathized,  though 
Froude's  development  of  opinion  here  was  of  a  later 

20  date.  In  the  year  1826,  in  the  course  of  a  walk  (,)  he  said 
much  to  me  about  a  work  then  just  published,  called 
"  Letters  on  the  Church  by  an  Episcopalian."  He  said 
that  it  would  make  my  blood  boil.  It  was  certainly  a  most 
powerful  composition.  One  of  our  common  friends  told 
me,  that,  after  reading  it,  he  could  not  keep  still,  but  went 
on  walking  up  and  down  his  room.  It  was  ascribed  at 
once  to  Whately  ;  I  gave  eager  expression  to  the  contrary 
opinion  ;  but  I  found  the  belief  of  Oxford  in  the  affirmative 
to  be  too  strong  for  me  ;  rightly  or  wrongly  I  yielded  to 

so  the  general  voice  ;  and  I  have  never  heard,  then  or  since, 
of  any  disclaimer  of  authorship  on  the  part  of  Dr.  Whately. 
The  main  positions  of  this  able  essay  are  these  ;  first 
that  Church  and  State  should  be  independent  of  each  other  : 
— he  speaks  of  the  duty  of  protesting  "against  the  pro 
fanation  of  Christ's  kingdom,  by  that  double  usurpation, 
the  interference  of  the  Church  in  temporals,  of  the  State  in 
spirituals,"  p.  191  ;  and,  secondly,  that  the  Church  may 
justly  and  by  right  retain  its  property,  though  separated 
from  the  State.  "  The  clergy,"  he  says  p.  133,  "  though 

40  they  ought  not  to  be  the  hired  servants  of  the  Civil  Magis 
trate,  may  justly  retain  their  revenues  ;  and  the  State, 


116  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

though  it  has  no  right  of  interference  in  spiritual  concerns, 
not  only  is  justly  entitled  to  support  from  the  ministers  of 
religion,  and  from  all  other  Christians,  but  would,  under 
the  system  I  am  recommending,  obtain  it  much  more 
effectually."  The  author  of  this  work,  whoever  he  may  be, 
argues  out  both  these  points  with  great  force  and  ingenuity, 
and  with  a  thorough-going  vehemence,  which  perhaps  we 
may  refer  to  the  circumstance,  that  he  wrote,  not  in 
proprid  persond,  (and  as  thereby  answerable  for  every 
sentiment  that  he  advanced,)  but  in  the  professed  character  10 
of  a  Scotch  Episcopalian.  His  work  had  a  gradual,  but 
a  deep  effect  on  my  mind. 

I  am  not  aware  of  any  other  religious  opinion  which 
I  owe  to  Dr.  Whately.  For  his  special  theological  tenets 
I  had  no  sympathy.  In  the  next  year,  1827,  he  told  me 
he  considered  that  I  was  Arianizing.  The  case  was  this  : 
though  at  that  time  I  had  not  read  Bishop  Bull's  Defensio 
nor  the  Fathers,  I  was  just  then  very  strong  for  that 
ante-Nicene  view  of  the  Trinitarian  doctrine,  which  some 
writers,  both  Catholic  and  non-Catholic,  have  accused  of  20 
wearing  a  sort  of  Arian  exterior.  This  is  the  meaning  of 
a  passage  in  Froude's  Remains,  in  which  he  seems  to  accuse 
me  of  speaking  against  the  Athanasian  Creed.  I  had  con 
trasted  the  two  aspects  of  the  Trinitarian  doctrine,  which 
are  respectively  presented  by  the  Athanasian  Creed  and 
the  Nicene.  My  criticisms  were  to  the  effect  that  some  of 
the  verses  of  the  former  Creed  were  unnecessarily  scientific. 
This  is  a  specimen  of  a  certain  disdain  for  antiquity  which 
had  been  growing  on  me  now  for  several  years.  It  showed 
itself  in  some  flippant  language  against  the  Fathers  in  the  30 
Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana,  about  whom  I  knew  little 
at  the  time,  except  what  I  had  learnt  as  a  boy  from  Joseph 
Milner.  In  writing  on  the  Scripture  Miracles  in  1825-6, 
I  had  read  Middleton  on  the  Miracles  of  the  early  Church, 
and  had  imbibed  a  portion  of  his  spirit. 

The  truth  is,  I  was  beginning  to  prefer  intellectual  excel 
lence  to  moral ;  I  was  drifting  in  the  direction  of  (the) 
liberalism  (of  the  day  x).  I  was  rudely  awakened  from  my 


28  antiquity]  Antiquity 

Footnote  in  1865.  (1  Vide  Note  A,  Liberalism,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. ) 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  117 

dream  at  the  .end  of  1827  by  two  great  blows — illness  and 
bereavement. 

In  the  beginning  of  1829,  came  the  formal  break  between 
Dr.  Whately  and  me ;  (the  affair  of)  Mr.  Peel's  [attempted] 
re-election  was  the  occasion  of  it.  I  think  in  1828  or  1827 
I  had  voted  in  the  minority,  when  the  Petition  to  Parlia 
ment  against  the  Catholic  Claims  was  brought  into  Convoca 
tion.  I  did  so  mainly  on  the  views  suggested  to  me  by  the 
theory  of  the  Letters  of  an  Episcopalian.  Also  I  disliked 

10  the  bigoted  "  two  bottle  orthodox,"  as  they  were  invidiously 
called.  (Accordingly)  I  took  part  against  Mr.  Peel,  on 
a  simple  academical,  not  at  all  an  ecclesiastical  or  a  political 
ground  ;  and  this  I  professed  at  the  time.  I  considered 
that  Mr.  Peel  had  taken  the  University  by  surprise,  that 
he  had  no  right  to  call  upon  us  to  turn  round  on  a  sudden, 
and  to  expose  ourselves  to  the  imputation  of  time-serving, 
and  that  a  great  University  ought  not  to  be  bullied  even 
by  a  great  Duke  of  Wellington.  Also  by  this  time  I  was 
under  the  influence  of  Keble  and  Froude  ;  who,  in  addition 

20  to  the  reasons  I  have  given,  disliked  the  Duke's  change 
of  policy  as  dictated  by  liberalism. 

Whately  was  considerably  annoyed  at  me,  and  he  took 
a  humourous  revenge,  of  which  he  had  given  me  due  notice 
beforehand.  As  head  of  a  house,  he  had  duties  of  hos 
pitality  to  men  of  all  parties  ;  he  asked  a  set  of  the  least 
intellectual  men  in  Oxford  to  dinner,  and  men  most  fond 
of  port ;  he  made  me  one  of  the  party  ;  placed  me  between 
Provost  This  and  Principal  That,  and  then  asked  me  if 
I  was  proud  of  my  friends.  However,  he  had  a  serious 

so  meaning  in  his  act  ;  he  saw,  more  clearly  than  I  could  do, 
that  I  was  separating  from  his  own  friends  for  good  and  all. 
Dr.  Whately  attributed  my  leaving  his  clientela  to  a  wish 
on  my  part  to  be  the  head  of  a  party  myself.  I  do  not 
think  that  it  was  deserved.  My  habitual  feeling  then  and 
since  has  been,  that  it  was  not  I  who  sought  friends,  but 
friends  who  sought  me.  Never  man  had  kinder  or  more 
indulgent  friends  than  I  have  had,  but  I  expressed  my  own 
feeling  as  to  the  mode  in  which  I  gained  them,  in  this  very 
year  1829,  in  the  course  of  a  copy  of  verses.  Speaking  of 

15  he]  his  friends  27  the]  this  34  it]  this  charge 


118  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

my  blessings,  I  said,  "  Blessings  of  friends,  which  to  my 
door,  unasked,  unhoped,  have  come."  They  have  come, 
they  have  gone  ;  they  came  to  my  great  joy,  they  went  to 
my  great  grief.  He  who  gave,  took  away.  Dr.  Whately's 
impression  about  me,  however,  admits  of  this  explanation : — 

During  the  first  years  of  my  residence  at  Oriel,  though 
proud  of  my  College,  I  was  not  (quite)  at  home  there. 
I  was  very  much  alone,  and  I  used  often  to  take  my  daily 
walk  by  myself.  I  recollect  once  meeting  Dr.  Copleston, 
then  Provost,  with  one  of  the  Fellows.  He  turned  round,  10 
and  with  the  kind  courteousness  which  sat  so  well  on  him, 
made  me  a  bow  and  said,  "  Nunquam  minus  solus,  quam 
cum  solus."  At  that  time  indeed  (from  1823)  I  had  the 
intimacy  of  my  dear  and  true  friend  Dr.  Pusey,  and  could 
not  fail  to  admire  and  revere  a  soul  so  devoted  to  the 
cause  of  religion,  so  full  of  good  works,  so  faithful  in  his 
affections  ;  but  he  left  residence  when  I  was  getting  to 
know  him  well.  As  to  Dr.  Whately  himself,  he  was  too 
much  my  superior  to  allow  of  my  being  at  my  ease  with 
him  ;  and  to  no  one  in  Oxford  at  this  time  did  I  open  my  20 
heart  fully  and  familiarly.  But  things  changed  in  1826. 
At  that  time  I  became  one  of  the  Tutors  of  my  College, 
and  this  gave  me  position  ;  besides,  I  had  written  one  or 
two  Essays  which  had  been  well  received.  I  began  to  be 
known.  I  preached  my  first  University  Sermon.  Next 
year  I  was  one  of  the  Public  Examiners  for  the  B.A.  degree. 
(In  1828  I  became  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's.)  It  was  to  me  like 
the  feeling  of  spring  weather  after  winter ;  and,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  I  came  out  of  my  shell ;  I  remained  out  of  it  till  1841 . 

The  two  persons  who  knew  me  best  at  that  time  are  still  30 
alive,  beneficed  clergymen,  no  longer  my  friends.  They 
could  tell  better  than  any  one  else  what  I  was  in  those  years. 
From  this  time  my  tongue  was,  as  it  were,  loosened,  and 
I  spoke  spontaneously  and  without  effort.  (One  of  the 
two,)  A  shrewd  man,  [who  knew  me  at  this  time,]  said  (of 
me,  I  have  been  told),  "  Here  is  a  man  who,  when  he  is 
silent,  will  never  begin  to  speak  ;  and  when  he  once  begins 
to  speak,  will  never  stop."  It  was  at  this  time  that  I  began 

35  A  shrewd  man  1864,  1865]  Mr.  Rickards  edition  subsequetit  to  1875 

36  a  man  who]  a  fellow  who 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  119 

to  have  influence,  which  steadily  increased  for  a  course  of 
years.  I  gained  upon  my  pupils,  and  was  in  particular 
intimate  and  affectionate  with  two  of  our  probationer 
Fellows,  Robert  I(saac)  Wilberforce  (afterwards  Arch 
deacon)  and  Richard  Hurrell  Froude.  Whately  then,  an 
acute  man,  perhaps  saw  around  me  the  signs  of  an  incipient 
party(,}  of  which  I  was  not  conscious  myself.  And  thus 
we  discern  the  first  elements  of  that  movement  afterwards 
called  Tractarian. 

10  The  true  and  primary  author  of  it,  however,  as  is  usual 
with  great  motive-powers,  was  out  of  sight.  Having 
carried  off  as  a  mere  boy  the  highest  honours  of  the  Uni 
versity,  he  had  turned  from  the  admiration  which  haunted 
his  steps,  and  sought  for  a  better  and  holier  satisfaction  in 
pastoral  work  in  the  country.  Need  I  say  that  I  am  speak 
ing  of  John  Keble  ?  The  first  time  that  I  was  in  a  room 
with  him  was  on  occasion  of  my  election  to  a  fellowship  at 
Oriel,  when  I  was  sent  for  into  the  Tower,  to  shake  hands 
with  the  Provost  and  Fellows.  How  is  that  hour  fixed  in 

20  my  memory  after  the  changes  of  forty-two  years,  forty- 
two  this  very  day  on  which  I  write  !  I  have  lately  had 
a  letter  in  my  hands,  which  I  sent  at  the  time  to  my  great 
friend,  John  (William)  Bowden,  with  whom  I  passed 
almost  exclusively  my  Undergraduate  years.  "  I  had  to 
hasten  to  the  Tower."  I  say  to  him,  "  to  receive  the  con 
gratulations  of  all  the  Fellows.  I  bore  it  till  Keble  took 
my  hand,  and  then  felt  so  abashed  and  unworthy  of  the 
honour  done  me,  that  I  seemed  desirous  of  quite  sinking 
into  the  ground."  His  had  been  the  first  name  which 

so  I  had  heard  spoken  of,  with  reverence  rather  than  admira 
tion,  when  I  came  up  to  Oxford.  When  one  day  I  was 
walking  in  High  Street  with  my  dear  earliest  friend  just 
mentioned,  with  what  eagerness  did  he  cry  out,  "  There's 
Keble  !  "  and  with  what  awe  did  I  look  at  him  !  Then  at 
another  time  I  heard  a  Master  of  Arts  of  my  college  give 
an  account  how  he  had  just  then  had  occasion  to  introduce 
himself  on  some  business  to  Keble,  and  how  gentle,  cour 
teous,  and  unaffected  Keble  had  been,  so  as  almost  to  put 
him  out  of  countenance.  Then  too  it  was  reported,  truly 
or  falsely,  how  a  rising  man  of  brilliant  reputation,  the 
present  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  Dr.  Milman,  admired  and  loved 


120  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

him,  adding,  that  somehow  he  was  (strangely)  unlike  any 
one  else.  However,  at  the  time  when  I  was  elected  Fellow 
of  Oriel  he  was  not  in  residence,  and  he  was  shy  of  me  for 
years  in  consequence  of  the  marks  which  I  bore  upon 
me  of  the  evangelical  and  liberal  schools.  At  least  so  I 
have  ever  thought.  Hurrell  Froude  brought  us  together 
about  1828  :  it  is  one  of  the  sayings  preserved  in  his 
"Remains," — "Do  you  know  the  story  of  the  murderer 
who  had  done  one  good  thing  in  his  life  ?  Well ;  if  I 
was  ever  asked  what  good  deed  I  had  ever  done,  I  should  10 
say  that  I  had  brought  Keble  and  Newman  to  understand 
each  other." 

The  Christian  Year  made  its  appearance  in  1827.  It  is 
not  necessary,  and  scarcely  becoming,  to  praise  a  book 
which  has  already  become  one  of  the  classics  of  the  language. 
When  the  general  tone  of  religious  literature  was  so  nerve 
less  and  impotent,  as  it  was  at  that  time,  Keble  struck  an 
original  note  and  woke  up  in  the  hearts  of  thousands  a  new 
music,  the  music  of  a  school,  long  unknown  in  England. 
Nor  can  I  pretend  to  analyze,  in  my  own  instance,  the  20 
effect  of  religious  teaching  so  deep,  so  pure,  so  beautiful. 
I  have  never  till  now  tried  to  do  so  ;  yet  I  think  I  am  not 
wrong  in  saying,  that  the  two  main  intellectual  truths 
which  it  brought  home  to  me,  were  the  same  two,  which 
I  had  learned  from  Butler,  though  recast  in  the  creative 
mind  of  my  new  master.  The  first  of  these  was  what  may 
be  called,  in  a  large  sense  of  the  word,  the  Sacramental 
system  ;  that  is,  the  doctrine  that  material  phenomena 
are  both  the  types  and  the  instruments  of  real  things 
unseen, — a  doctrine,  which  embraces  (in  its  fulness),  not  30 
only  what  Anglicans,  as  well  as  Catholics,  believe  about 
Sacraments  properly  so  called  ;  but  also  the  article  of 
"  the  Communion  of  Saints "  [in  its  fulness] ;  and 
likewise  the  Mysteries  of  the  faith.  The  connexion  of 
this  philosophy  of  religion  with  what  is  sometimes  called 
"  Berkeleyism  "  has  been  mentioned  above ;  I  knew  little  of 
Berkeley  at  this  time  except  by  name  ;  nor  have  I  ever 
studied  him. 

On  the  second  intellectual  principle  which  I  gained  from 
Mr.  Keble,  I  could  say  a  great  deal ;  if  this  were  the  place  40 
for  it.     It  runs  through  very  much  that  I  have  written, 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  121 

and  has  gained  for  me  many  hard  names.  Butler  teaches 
us  that  probability  is  the  guide  of  life.  The  danger  of  this 
doctrine,  in  the  case  of  many  minds,  is,  its  tendency  to 
destroy  in  them  absolute  certainty,  leading  them  to  con 
sider  every  conclusion  as  doubtful,  and  resolving  truth 
into  an  opinion,  which  it  is  safe  (indeed)  to  obey  or  to 
profess,  but  not  possible  to  embrace  with  full  internal 
assent.  If  this  were  to  be  allowed,  then  the  celebrated 
saying,  "  0  God,  if  there  be  a  God,  save  my  soul,  if  I  have 

10  a  soul !  "  would  be  the  highest  measure  of  devotion  : — but 
who  can  really  pray  to  a  Being,  about  whose  existence  he 
is  seriously  in  doubt  ? 

I  considered  that  Mr.  Keble  met  this  difficulty  by  ascrib 
ing  the  firmness  of  assent  which  we  give  to  religious  doc 
trine,  not  to  the  probabilities  which  introduced  it,  but  to 
the  living  power  of  faith  and  love  which  accepted  it.  In 
matters  of  religion,  he  seemed  to  say,  it  is  not  merely 
probability  which  makes  us  intellectually  certain,  but 
probability  as  it  is  put  to  account  by  faith  and  love.  It 

20  is  faith  and  love  which  give  to  probability  a  force  which  it 
has  not  in  itself.  Faith  and  love  are  directed  towards  an 
Object  ;  in  the  vision  of  that  Object  they  live  ;  it  is  that 
Object,  received  in  faith  and  love,  which  renders  it  reason 
able  to  take  probability  as  sufficient  for  internal  con 
viction.  Thus  the  argument  about  Probability,  in  the 
matter  of  religion,  became  an  argument  from  Personality, 
which  in  fact  is  one  form  of  the  argument  from  Authority. 
In  illustration,  Mr.  Keble  used  to  quote  the  words  of  the 
Psalm  :  "I  will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye.  Be  ye  not  like 

so  to  horse  and  mule,  which  have  no  understanding  ;  whose 
mouths  must  be  held  with  bit  and  bridle,  lest  they  fall 
upon  thee."  This  is  the  very  difference,  he  used  to  say, 
between  slaves,  and  friends  or  children.  Friends  do  not 
ask  for  literal  commands  ;  but,  from  their  knowledge  of 
the  speaker,  they  understand  his  half-words,  and  from  love 
of  him  they  anticipate  his  wishes.  Hence  it  is,  that  in  his 
Poem  for  St.  Bartholomew's  Day,  he  speaks  of  the  "  Eye 
of  God's  word  ;  "  and  in  the  note  quotes  Mr.  Miller,  of 
Worcester  College,  who  remarks,  in  his  Bampton  Lectures, 

25  about]  from 


122  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

on  the  special  power  of  Scripture,  as  having  "  this  Eye, 
like  that  of  a  portrait,  uniformly  fixed  upon  us,  turn  where 
we  will."  The  view  thus  suggested  by  Mr.  Keble,  is  brought 
forward  in  one  of  the  earliest  of  the  "  Tracts  for  the  Times." 
In  No.  8  I  say,  "  The  Gospel  is  a  Law  of  Liberty.  We  are 
treated  as  sons,  not  as  servants  ;  not  subjected  to  a  code 
of  formal  commandments,  but  addressed  as  those  who  love 
God,  and  wish  to  please  Him." 

I  did  not  at  all  dispute  this  view  of  the  matter,  for  I  made 
use  of  it  myself ;  but  I  was  dissatisfied,  because  it  did  not  10 
go  to  the  root  of  the  difficulty.  It  was  beautiful  and 
religious,  but  it  did  not  even  profess  to  be  logical ;  and 
accordingly  I  tried  to  complete  it  by  considerations  of  my 
own,  which  are  implied  in  my  University  Sermons,  Essay 
on  Ecclesiastical  Miracles,  and  Essay  on  Development  of 
Doctrine.  My  argument  is  in  outline  as  follows  :  that  that 
absolute  certitude  which  we  were  able  to  possess,  whether 
as  to  the  truths  of  natural  theology,  or  as  to  the  fact  of 
a  revelation,  was  the  result  of  an  assemblage  of  concurring 
and  converging  probabilities,  and  that,  both  according  to  20 
the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  and  the  will  of  its 
Maker  ;  that  certitude  was  a  habit  of  mind,  that  certainty 
was  a  quality  of  propositions  ;  that  probabilities  which 
did  not  reach  to  logical  certainty,  might  create  a  mental 
certitude  ;  that  the  certitude  thus  created  might  equal  in 
measure  and  strength  the  certitude  which  was  created  by 
the  strictest  scientific  demonstration  ;  and  that  to  have 
such  certitude  might  in  given  cases  and  to  given  individuals 
be  a  plain  duty,  though  not  to  others  in  other  circum 
stances  : —  so 

Moreover,  that  as  there  were  probabilities  which  sufficed 
to  create  certitude,  so  there  were  other  probabilities  which 
were  legitimately  adapted  to  create  opinion  ;  that  it  might 
be  quite  as  much  a  matter  of  duty  in  given  cases  and  to 
given  persons  to  have  about  a  fact  an  opinion  of  a  definite 
strength  and  consistency,  as  in  the  case  of  greater  or  of 
more  numerous  probabilities  it  was  a  duty  to  have  a  cer 
titude  ;  that  accordingly  we  were  bound  to  be  more  or  less 

24  create]  suffice  for  25  created]  brought  about 

27  have]  possess  32  to  create]  for 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  123 

sure,  on  a  sort  of  (as  it  were)  graduated  scale  of  assent, 
viz.  according  as  the  probabilities  attaching  to  a  professed 
fact  were  brought  home  to  us,  and,  as  the  case  might  be, 
to  entertain  about  it  a  pious  belief,  or  a  pious  opinion,  or 
a  religious  conjecture,  or  at  least,  a  tolerance  of  such  belief, 
or  opinion,  or  conjecture  in  others  ;  that  on  the  other  hand, 
as  it  was  a  duty  to  have  a  belief,  of  more  or  less  strong 
texture,  in  given  cases,  so  in  other  cases  it  was  a  duty  not 
to  believe,  not  to  opine,  not  to  conjecture,  not  even  to 

10  tolerate  the  notion  that  a  professed  fact  was  true,  inasmuch 
as  it  would  be  credulity  or  superstition,  or  some  other 
moral  fault,  to  do  so.  This  was  the  region  of  Private  Judg 
ment  in  religion  ;  that  is,  of  a  Private  Judgment,  not 
formed  arbitrarily  and  according  to  one's  fancy  or  liking, 
but  conscientiously,  and  under  a  sense  of  duty. 

Considerations  such  as  these  throw  a  new  light  on  the 
subject  of  Miracles,  and  they  seem  to  have  led  me  to 
re -consider  the  view  which  I  took  of  them  in  my  Essay  in 
1825-6.  I  do  not  know  what  was  the  date  of  this  change 

20  in  me,  nor  of  the  train  of  ideas  on  which  it  was  founded. 
That  there  had  been  already  great  miracles,  as  those  of 
Scripture,  as  the  Resurrection,  was  a  fact  establishing  the 
principle  that  the  laws  of  nature  had  sometimes  been 
suspended  by  their  Divine  Author  ;  and  since  what  had 
happened  once  might  happen  again,  a  certain  probability, 
at  least  no  kind  of  improbability,  was  attached  to  the  idea, 
taken  in  itself,  of  miraculous  intervention  in  later  times, 
and  miraculous  accounts  were  to  be  regarded  in  connexion 
with  the  verisimilitude,  scope,  instrument,  character, 

30  testimony,  and  circumstances,  with  which  they  presented 
themselves  to  us  ;  and,  according  to  the  final  result  of 
those  various  considerations,  it  was  our  duty  to  be  sure,  or 
to  believe,  or  to  opine,  or  to  surmise,  or  to  tolerate,  or  to  re 
ject,  or  to  denounce.  The  main  difference  between  my  Essay 
on  Miracles  in  1826  and  my  Essay  in  1842  is  this  :  that  in 
1826  I  considerbd  that  miracles  were  sharply  divided  into 
two  classes,  those  which  were  to  be  received,  and  those 
which  were  to  be  rejected  ;  whereas  in  1842  I  saw  that 
they  were  to  be  regarded  according  to  their  greater  or  less 

18  took]  had  taken 


124  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

probability,  which  was  in  some  cases  sufficient  to  create 
certitude  about  them,  in  other  cases  only  belief  or 
opinion. 

Moreover,  the  argument  from  Analogy,  on  which  this 
view  of  the  question  was  founded,  suggested  to  me  some 
thing  besides,  in  recommendation  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Miracles.  It  fastened  itself  upon  the  theory  of  Church 
History  which  I  had  learned  as  a  boy  from  Joseph  Milner. 
It  is  Milner's  doctrine,  that  upon  the  visible  Church  come 
down  from  above,  from  time  to  time,  large  and  temporary  10 
Effusions  of  divine  grace.  This  is  the  leading  idea  of  his 
work.  He  begins  by  speaking  of  the  Day  of  Pentecost,  as 
marking  "  the  first  of  those  Effusions  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
which  from  age  to  age  have  visited  the  earth  since  the 
coming  of  Christ."  Vol.  i.  p.  3.  In  a  note  he  adds  that 
"  in  the  term  '  Effusion  '  there  is  not  here  included  the 
idea  of  the  miraculous  or  extraordinary  operations  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  ;  "  but  still  it  was  natural  for  me,  admitting 
Milner's  general  theory,  and  applying  to  it  the  principle  of 
analogy,  not  to  stop  short  at  his  abrupt  ipse  dixit,  but  20 
boldly  to  pass  forward  to  the  conclusion,  on  other  grounds 
plausible,  that,  as  miracles  accompanied  the  first  effusion 
of  grace,  so  they  might  accompany  the  later.  It  is  surely 
a  natural  and  on  the  whole,  a  true  anticipation  (though  of 
course  there  are  exceptions  in  particular  cases),  that  gifts 
and  graces  go  together  ;  now,  according  to  the  ancient 
Catholic  doctrine,  the  gift  of  miracles  was  viewed  as  the 
attendant  and  shadow  of  transcendent  sanctity :  and 
moreover,  as  such  sanctity  was  not  of  every  day's  occur 
rence,  nay  further,  as  one  period  of  Church  history  differed  so 
widely  from  another,  and,  as  Joseph  Milner  would  say, 
there  have  been  generations  or  centuries  of  degeneracy  or 
disorder,  and  times  of  revival,  and  as  one  region  might  be 
in  the  mid-day  of  religious  fervour,  and  another  in  twilight 
or  gloom,  there  was  no  force  in  the  popular  argument,  that, 
because  we  did  not  see  miracles  with  our  own  eyes,  miracles 
had  not  happened  in  former  times,  or  were  not  now  at  this 
very  time  taking  place  in  distant  places  : — but  I  must  not 

« 

10  from  time  to  time]  at  certain  intervals  16  not]  not 

29,  30,  33  as]  since 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  125 

dwell  longer  on  a  subject,  to  which  in  a  few  words  it  is 
impossible  to  do  justice  (1). 

Hurrell  Froude  was  a  pupil  of  Keble's,  formed  by  him, 
and  in  turn  reacting  upon  him.  I  knew  him  first  in  1826, 
and  was  in  the  closest  and  most  affectionate  friendship 
with  him  from  about  1829  till  his  death  in  1836.  He  was 
a  man  of  the  highest  gifts, — so  truly  many-sided,  that  it 
would  be  presumptuous  in  me  to  attempt  to  describe  him, 
except  under  those  aspects[,]  in  which  he  came  before  me. 

10  Nor  have  I  here  to  speak  of  the  gentleness  and  tenderness 
of  nature,  the  playfulness,  the  free  elastic  force  and  graceful 
versatility  of  mind,  and  the  patient  winning  considerate  - 
ness  in  discussion,  which  endeared  him  to  those  to  whom 
he  opened  his  heart ;  for  I  am  all  along  engaged  upon 
matters  of  belief  and  opinion,  and  am  introducing  others 
into  my  narrative,  not  for  their  own  sake,  or  because  I  love 
and  have  loved  them,  so  much  as  because,  and  so  far  as, 
they  have  influenced  my  theological  views.  In  this  respect 
then,  I  speak  of  Hurrell  Froude, — in  his  intellectual  aspect, 

20  — as  a  man  of  high  genius,  brimful  and  overflowing  with 
ideas  and  views,  in  him  original,  which  were  too  many  and 
strong  even  for  his  bodily  strength,  and  which  crowded 
and  jostled  against  each  other  in  their  effort  after  distinct 
shape  and  expression.  And  he  had  an  intellect  as  critical 
and  logical  as  it  was  speculative  and  bold.  Dying  pre 
maturely,  as  he  did,  and  in  the  conflict  and  transition - 
state  of  opinion,  his  religious  views  never  reached  their 
ultimate  conclusion,  by  the  very  reason  of  their  multitude 
and  their  depth.  His  opinions  arrested  and  influenced  me, 

so  even  when  they  did  not  gain  my  assent.  He  professed 
openly  his  admiration  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  his 
hatred  of  the  Reformers.  He  delighted  in  the  notion  of 
an  hierarchical  system,  of  sacerdotal  power  and  of  full 
ecclesiastical  liberty.  He  felt  scorn  of  the  maxim,  "  The 
Bible  and  the  Bible  only  is  the  religion  of  Protestants  ;  " 
and  he  gloried  in  accepting  Tradition  as  a  main  instrument 
of  religious  teaching.  He  had  a  high  severe  idea  of  the 
intrinsic  excellence  of  Virginity  ;  and  he  considered  the 

Footnote  in  1865.  (1  Vide  note  B,  Ecclesiastical  Miracles,  at  the  end 
of  the  volume.) 


126  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

Blessed  Virgin  its  great  Pattern.  He  delighted  in  thinking 
of  the  Saints  ;  he  had  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  idea  of 
sanctity,  its  possibility  and  its  heights  ;  and  he  was  more 
than  inclined  to  believe  a  large  amount  of  miraculous  inter 
ference  as  occurring  in  the  early  and  middle  ages.  He 
embraced  the  principle  of  penance  and  mortification.  He 
had  a  deep  devotion  to  the  Real  Presence,  in  which  he  had 
a  firm  faith.  He  was  powerfully  drawn  to  the  Medieval 
Church,  but  not  to  the  Primitive. 

He  had  a  keen  insight  into  abstract  truth  ;  but  he  was  10 
an  Englishman  to  the  backbone  in  his  severe  adherence  to 
the  real  and  the  concrete.  He  had  a  most  classical  taste, 
and  a  genius  for  philosophy  and  art ;  and  he  was  fond  of 
historical  inquiry,  and  the  politics  of  religion.  He  had  no 
turn  for  theology  as  such.  He  had  no  appreciation  of  the 
writings  of  the  Fathers,  of  the  detail  or  development  of 
doctrine,  of  the  definite  traditions  of  the  Church  viewed  in 
their  matter,  of  the  teaching  of  the  Ecumenical  Councils, 
or  of  the  controversies  out  of  which  they  arose.  He  took 
an  eager,  courageous  view  of  things  on  the  whole.  I  should  20 
say  that  his  power  of  entering  into  the  minds  of  others  did 
not  equal  his  other  gifts  ;  he  could  not  believe,  for  instance, 
that  I  really  held  the  Roman  Church  to  be  Antichristian. 
On  many  points  he  would  not  believe  but  that  I  agreed 
with  him,  when  I  did  not.  He  seemed  not  to  understand 
my  difficulties.  His  were  of  a  different  kind,  the  con 
trariety  between  theory  and  fact.  He  was  a  high  Tory  of 
the  Cavalier  stamp,  and  was  disgusted  with  the  Toryism 
of  the  opponents  of  the  Reform  Bill.  He  was  smitten  with 
the  love  of  the  Theocratic  Church  ;  he  went  abroad  and  30 
was  shocked  by  the  degeneracy  which  he  thought  he  saw 
in  the  Catholics  of  Italy. 

It  is  difficult  to  enumerate  the  precise  additions  to  my 
theological  creed  which  I  derived  from  a  friend  to  whom 
I  owe  so  much.  He  made  me  look  with  admiration  towards 
the  Church  of  Rome,  and  in  the  same  degree  to  dislike  the 

2  keen]  vivid 

15  had  no  appreciation  of]  set  no  sufficient  value  on 

16  Fathers,  of]  Fathers,  on  17  doctrine,  of]  doctrine,  on 
18  matter,  of]  matter,  on                      19  or  of]  or  on 

35  made  me]  taught  me  to 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  127 

Reformation.  He  fixed  deep  in  me  the  idea  of  devotion 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  he  led  me  gradually  to  believe 
in  the  Real  Presence. 

There  is  one  remaining  source  of  my  opinions  to  be 
mentioned,  and  that  far  from  the  least  important.  In  pro 
portion  as  I  moved  out  of  the  shadow  of  (that)  liberalism 
which  had  hung  over  my  course,  my  early  devotion  towards 
the  Fathers  returned  ;  and  in  the  Long  Vacation  of  1828 
I  set  about  to  read  them  chronologically,  beginning  with 

10  St.  Ignatius  and  St.  Justin.  About  1830  a  proposal  was 
made  to  me  by  Mr.  Hugh  Rose,  who  with  Mr.  Lyall  (after 
wards  Dean  of  Canterbury)  was  providing  writers  for 
a  Theological  Library,  to  furnish  them  with  a  History  of 
the  Principal  Councils.  I  accepted  it,  and  at  once  set  to 
work  on  the  Council  of  Nicaea.  It  was  launching  myself 
on  an  ocean  with  currents  innumerable  ;  and  I  was  drifted 
back  first  to  the  ante-Nicene  history,  and  then  to  the 
Church  of  Alexandria.  The  work  at  last  appeared  under 
the  title  of  "  The  Arians  of  the  Fourth  Century  ;  "  and 

20  of  its  422  pages,  the  first  117  consisted  of  introductory 
matter,  and  the  Council  of  Nicaea  did  not  appear  till  the 
254th,  and  then  occupied  at  most  twenty  pages. 

I  do  not  know  when  I  first  learnt  to  consider  that  Anti 
quity  was  the  true  exponent  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity 
and  the  basis  of  the  Church  of  England  ;  but  I  take  it  for 
granted  that  Bishop  Bull,  whose  works  at  this  time  I 
read,  was  my  chief  introduction  to  this  principle.  The 
course  of  reading  which  I  pursued  in  the  composition 
of  my  work  was  directly  adapted  to  develope  it  in  my 

so  mind.  What  principally  attracted  me  in  the  ante-Nicene 
period  was  the  great  Church  of  Alexandria,  the  histori 
cal  centre  of  teaching  in  those  times.  Of  Rome  for  some 
centuries  comparatively  little  is  known.  The  battle  of 
Arianism  was  first  fought  in  Alexandria;  Athanasius, 
the  champion  of  the  truth,  was  Bishop  of  Alexandria  ;  and 
in  his  writings  he  refers  to  the  great  religious  names  of  an 
earlier  date,  to  Origen,  Dionysius,  and  others  who  were 
the  glory  of  its  see,  or  of  its  school.  The  broad  philosophy 

15  launching]  to  launch  26  Bishop  Bull,  whose  works]  the  works 
of  Bishop  Bull,  which  27  was]  were  29  work]  volume 


128  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

of  Clement  and  Origen  carried  me  away  ;  the  philosophy, 
not  the  theological  doctrine  ;  and  I  have  drawn  out  some 
features  of  it  in  my  volume,  with  the  zeal  and  freshness, 
but  with  the  partiality(,)  of  a  neophyte.  Some  portions  of 
their  teaching,  magnificent  in  themselves,  came  like  music 
to  my  inward  ear,  as  if  the  response  to  ideas,  which,  with 
little  external  to  encourage  them,  I  had  cherished  so  long. 
These  were  based  on  the  mystical  or  sacramental  principle, 
and  spoke  of  the  various  Economies  or  Dispensations  of 
the  Eternal.  I  understood  them  to  mean  that  the  exterior  10 
world,  physical  and  historical,  was  but  the  [outward] 
manifestation  (to  our  senses)  of  realities  greater  than 
itself.  Nature  was  a  parable  P] :  Scripture  was  an  alle 
gory  :  pagan  literature,  philosophy,  and  mythology, 
properly  understood,  were  but  a  preparation  for  the 
Gospel.  The  Greek  poets  and  sages  were  in  a  certain 
sense  prophets  ;  for  "  thoughts  beyond  their  thought  to 
those  high  bards  were  given."  There  had  been  a  (directly) 
divine  dispensation  granted  to  the  Jews ;  (but)  there  had 
been  in  some  sense  a  dispensation  carried  on  in  favour  of  20 
the  Gentiles.  He  who  had  taken  the  seed  of  Jacob  for  His 
elect  people,  had  not  therefore  cast  the  rest  of  mankind 
out  of  His  sight.  In  the  fulness  of  time  both  Judaism  and 
Paganism  had  come  to  nought ;  the  outward  framework, 
which  concealed  yet  suggested  the  Living  Truth,  had  never 
been  intended  to  last,  and  it  was  dissolving  under  the 
beams  of  the  Sun  of  Justice  (which  shone)  behind  it  and 
through  it.  The  process  of  change  had  been  slow  ;  it  had 
been  done  not  rashly,  but  by  rule  and  measure,  "  at  sundry 
times  and  in  divers  manners,"  first  one  disclosure  and  then  30 
another,  till  the  whole  (evangelical  doctrine)  was  brought 
into  full  manifestation.  And  thus  room  was  made  for  the 
anticipation  of  further  and  deeper  disclosures,  of  truths 
still  under  the  veil  of  the  letter,  and  in  their  season  to  be 
revealed.  The  visible  world  still  remains  without  its 
divine  interpretation  ;  Holy  Church  in  her  sacraments  and 
her  hierarchical  appointments,  will  remain(,)  even  to  the 
end  of  the  world,  only  a  symbol  of  those  heavenly  facts 

10  them]  these  passages 

Footnote  omitted  in  1865.     [x  Vid.  Mr.  Morris's  beautiful  poem   with 
this  title.]  38  only]  after  all  but 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  129 

which  fill  eternity.  Her  mysteries  are  but  the  expressions 
in  human  language  of  truths  to  which  the  human  mind 
is  unequal.  It  is  evident  how  much  there  was  in  all  this 
in  correspondence  with  the  thoughts  which  had  attracted 
me  when  I  was  young,  and  with  the  doctrine  which  I  have 
already  connected  with  the  Analogy  and  the  Christian 
Year. 

I  suppose  it  was  to  the  Alexandrian  school  and  to  the 
early  Church  that  I  owe  in  particular  what  I  definitely  held 

10  about  the  Angels.  I  viewed  them,  not  only  as  the  ministers 
employed  by  the  Creator  in  the  Jewish  and  Christian  dis 
pensations,  as  we  find  on  the  face  of  Scripture,  but  as 
carrying  on,  as  Scripture  also  implies,  the  Economy  of  the 
Visible  World.  I  considered  them  as  the  real  causes  of 
motion,  light,  and  life,  and  of  those  elementary  principles 
of  the  physical  universe,  which,  when  offered  in  their 
developments  to  our  senses,  suggest  to  us  the  notion  of 
cause  and  effect,  and  of  what  are  called  the  laws  of  nature. 
(This  doctrine)  I  have  drawn  out  [this  doctrine]  in  my 

20  Sermon  for  Michaelmas  day,  written  not  later  than  1834. 
I  say  of  the  Angels,  "  Every  breath  of  air  and  ray  of  light 
and  heat,  every  beautiful  prospect,  is,  as  it  were,  the  skirts 
of  their  garments,  the  waving  of  the  robes  of  those  whose 
faces  see  God."  Again,  I  ask  what  would  be  the  thoughts 
of  a  man  who,  "  when  examining  a  flower,  or  a  herb,  or 
a  pebble,  or  a  ray  of  light,  which  he  treats  as  something  so 
beneath  him  in  the  scale  of  existence,  suddenly  discovered 
that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  some  powerful  being  who 
was  hidden  behind  the  visible  things  he  was  inspecting,(  —  ) 

so  who,  though  concealing  his  wise  hand,  was  giving  them 
their  beauty,  grace,  and  perfection,  as  being  God's  instru 
ment  for  the  purpose,(  —  )nay,  whose  robe  and  ornaments 
those  objects  were,  which  he  was  so  eager  to  analyze  ?  " 
and  I  therefore  remark  that  "  we  may  say  with  grateful 
and  simple  hearts  with  the  Three  Holy  Children,  '  0  all 
ye  works  of  the  Lord,  &c.,  &c.,  bless  ye  the  Lord,  praise 
Him,  and  magnify  Him  for  ever.'  ' 

Also,  besides  the  hosts  of  evil  spirits,  I  considered  there 
was   a   middle   race,   Seu/xoVia,   neither  in   heaven,  nor   in 


6  connected]  associated          8  I  suppose  it  was]  It  was,  I  suppose, 
20  not  later  than  1834]  in  1831 

APOLOGIA 


130  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

hell ;  partially  fallen,  capricious,  wayward ;  noble  or 
crafty,  benevolent  or  malicious,  as  the  case  might  be.  They 
gave  a  sort  of  inspiration  or  intelligence  to  races,  nations, 
and  classes  of  men.  Hence  the  action  of  bodies  politic  and 
associations,  which  is  so  different  often  from  that  of  the 
individuals  who  compose  them.  Hence  the  character  and 
the  instinct  of  states  and  governments,  of  religious  com 
munities  and  communions.  I  thought  they  were  inhabited 
by  unseen  intelligences.  My  preference  of  the  Personal  to 
the  Abstract  would  naturally  lead  me  to  this  view.  1 10 
thought  it  countenanced  by  the  mention  of  "  the  Prince 
of  Persia  "  in  the  Prophet  Daniel ;  and  I  think  I  con 
sidered  that  it  was  of  such  intermediate  beings  that  the 
Apocalypse  spoke,  when  it  introduced  "  the  Angels  of  the 
Seven  Churches." 

In  1837  I  made  a  further  development  of  this  doctrine. 
I  said  to  my  great  friend,  Samuel  Francis  Wood,  in  a  letter 
which  came  into  my  hands  on  his  death,  "  I  have  an  idea. 
The  mass  of  the  Fathers,  (Justin,  Athenagoras,  Irenaeus, 
Clement,  Tertullian,  Origen,  Lactantius,  Sulpicius,  Ambrose,  20 
Nazianzen,)  hold  that,  though  Satan  fell  from  the  beginning, 
the  Angels  fell  before  the  deluge,  falling  in  love  with  the 
daughters  of  men.  This  has  lately  come  across  me  as 
a  remarkable  solution  of  a  notion  which  I  cannot  help  hold 
ing.  Daniel  speaks  as  if  each  nation  had  its  guardian 
Angel.  I  cannot  but  think  that  there  are  beings  with 
a  great  deal  of  good  in  them,  yet  with  great  defects,  who 
are  the  animating  principles  of  certain  institutions,  &c., 

&c Take  England,  with  many  high  virtues,  and 

yet  a  low  Catholicism.  It  seems  to  me  that  John  Bull  is  30 
a  spirit  neither  of  heaven  nor  hell  .  .  .  Has  not  the  Christian 
Church,  in  its  parts,  surrendered  itself  to  one  or  other  of 
these  simulations  of  the  truth  ?  .  .  .  .  How  are  we  to  avoid 
Scylla  and  Charybdis  and  go  straight  on  to  the  very  image 
of  Christ  ?  "  &c.,  &c. 

2  They]  These  beings 
5  so  different  often]  often  so  different. 

8-9  they  were  inhabited  by  unseen  intelligences]  these  assemblages 
had  their  life  in  certain  unseen  Powers 
14  when  it  introduced]  in  its  notice  of 
1  7  my  great]  an  intimate  and  dear 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  131 

I  am  aware  that  what  I  have  been  saying  will,  with 
many  men,  be  doing  credit  to  my  imagination  at  the 
expense  of  my  judgment — "  Hippoclides  doesn't  care  ;  " 
I  am  not  setting  myself  up  as  a  pattern  of  good  sense  or 
of  any  thing  else  :  I  am  but  [vindicating  myself  from  the 
charge  of  dishonesty. — There  is  indeed  another  view  of  the 
Economy  brought  out,  in  the  course  of  the  same  disserta 
tion  on  the  subject,  in  my  History  of  the  Arians,  which 
has  afforded  matter  for  the  latter  imputation  ;  but  I  re- 
10  serve  it  for  the  concluding  portion  of  my  Reply.] 

While  I  was  engaged  in  writing  my  work  upon  the 
Arians,  great  events  were  happening  at  home  and  abroad, 
which  brought  out  into  form  and  passionate  expression  the 
various  beliefs  which  had  so  gradually  been  winning  their 
way  into  my  mind.  Shortly  before,  there  had  been  a 
Revolution  in  France  ;  the  Bourbons  had  been  dismissed  : 
and  I  believed  that  it  was  unchristian  for  nations  to  cast 
off  their  governors,  and,  much  more,  sovereigns  who  had 
the  divine  right  of  inheritance.  Again,  the  great  Reform 

20  Agitation  was  going  on  around  me  as  I  wrote.  The  Whigs 
had  come  into  power  ;  Lord  Grey  had  told  the  Bishops  to 
set  their  house  in  order,  and  some  of  the  Prelates  had  been 
insulted  and  threatened  in  the  streets  of  London.  The 
vital  question  was(,)  how  were  we  to  keep  the  Church  from 
being  liberalized  ?  there  was  such  apathy  on  the  subject- 
in  some  quarters,  such  imbecile  alarm  in  others  ;  the  true 
principles  of  Churchmanship  seemed  so  radically  decayed, 
and  there  was  such  distraction  in  the  Councils  of  the  Clergy. 
(Blomfield,)  The  Bishop  of  London  of  the  day,  an  active 

so  and  open-hearted  man,  had  been  for  years  engaged  in 
diluting  the  high  orthodoxy  of  the  Church  by  the  intro- 

5-10  for  the  passage  in  square  brackets  the  following  was  substituted 
in  1865 :  giving  a  history  of  my  opinions,  and  that,  with  the  view  of 
showing  that  I  have  come  by  them  through  intelligible  processes  of 
thought  and  honest  external  means.  The  doctrine  indeed  of  the  Economy 
has  in  some  quarters  been  itself  condemned  as  intrinsically  pernicious, — 
as  if  leading  to  lying  and  equivocation,  when  applied,  as  I  have  applied 
it  in  my  remarks  upon  it  in  my  History  of  the  Arians,  to  matters  of 
conduct.  My  answer  to  this  imputation  I  postpone  to  the  concluding 
pages  of  my  Volume. 

17  believed]  held  28  Councils]  councils 


132  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

duction  of  (members  of)  the  Evangelical  body  into  places 
of  influence  and  trust.  He  had  deeply  offended  men  who 
agreed  (in  opinion)  with  myself,  by  an  off-hand  saying  (as 
it  was  reported)  to  the  effect  that  belief  in  the  Apostolical 
succession  had  gone  out  with  the  Non-jurors.  "  We  can 
count  you,"  he  said  to  some  of  the  gravest  and  most 
venerated  persons  of  the  old  school.  And  the  Evangelical 

Crty  itself  [seemed],  with  their  late  successes,  (seemed)  to 
ve  lost  that  simplicity  and  unworldliness  which  I  admired 
so  much  in  Milner  and  Scott.  It  was  not  that  I  did  not  10 
venerate  such  men  as  (Ryder,)  the  then  Bishop  of  Lichfield, 
and  others  of  similar  sentiments,  who  were  not  yet  pro 
moted  out  of  the  ranks  of  the  Clergy,  but  I  thought  little 
of  them  as  a  class.  I  thought  they  played  into  the  hands 
of  the  Liberals.  With  the  Establishment  thus  divided  and 
threatened,  thus  ignorant  of  its  true  strength,  I  compared 
that  fresh  vigorous  power  of  which  I  was  reading  in  the 
first  centuries.  In  her  triumphant  zeal  on  behalf  of  that- 
Primeval  Mystery,  to  which  I  had  had  so  great  a  devotion 
from  my  youth,  I  recognized  the  movement  of  my  Spiritual  20 
Mother.  "  Incessu  patuit  Dea."  The  self -conquest  of  her 
Ascetics,  the  patience  of  her  Martyrs,  the  irresistible 
determination  of  her  Bishops,  the  joyous  swing  of  her 
advance,  both  exalted  and  abashed  me.  I  said  to  myself, 
"  Look  on  this  picture  and  on  that ;  "  I  felt  affection  for 
my  own  Church,  but  not  tenderness  ;  I  felt  dismay  at  her 
prospects,  anger  and  scorn  at  her  do-nothing  perplexity. 
I  thought  that  if  Liberalism  once  got  a  footing  within  her, 
it  was  sure  of  the  victory  in  the  event.  I  saw  that  Refor 
mation  principles  were  powerless  to  rescue  her.  As  to  so 
leaving  her,  the  thought  never  crossed  my  imagination  ; 
still  I  ever  kept  before  me  that  there  was  something 
greater  than  the  Established  Church,  and  that  that  was 
the  Church  Catholic  and  Apostolic,  set  up  from  the  begin 
ning,  of  which  she  was  but  the  local  presence  and  (the) 
organ.  She  was  nothing,  unless  she  was  this.  She  must  be 
dealt  with  strongly,  or  she  would  be  lost.  There  was  need 
of  a  second  Reformation. 

At  this  time  I  was  disengaged  from  College  duties,  and 

14  them]  the  Evangelicals  17  power]  Power 

38  Reformation]  reformation 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  133 

my  health  had  suffered  from  the  labour  involved  in  the 
composition  of  my  Volume.  It  was  ready  for  the  Press  in 
July,  1832,  though  not  published  till  the  end  of  1833. 
I  was  easily  persuaded  to  join  Hurrell  Froude  and  his 
Father,  who  were  going  to  the  south  of  Europe  for  the 
health  of  the  former. 

We  set  out  in  December,  1832.  It  was  during  this 
expedition  that  my  Verses  which  are  in  the  Lyra  Apostolica 
were  written  ; — a  few  indeed  before  it,  but  not  more  than 

10  one  or  two  of  them  after  it.  Exchanging,  as  I  was,  definite 
Tutorial  labours,  and  the  literary  quiet  and  pleasant  friend 
ships  of  the  last  six  years,  for  foreign  countries  and  an 
unknown  future,  I  naturally  was  led  to  think  that  some 
inward  changes,  as  well  as  some  larger  course  of  action, 
was  coming  upon  me.  At  Whitchurch,  while  waiting  for 
the  down  mail  to  Falmouth,  I  wrote  the  verses  about  my 
Guardian  Angel,  which  begin  with  these  words  :  "  Are 
these  the  tracks  of  some  unearthly  Friend  ?  "  and  (which) 
go  on  to  speak  of  "  the  vision"  which  haunted  me  : — that 

20  vision  is  more  or  less  brought  out  in  the  whole  series  of 
these  compositions. 

I  went  to  various  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean,  parted 
with  my  friends  at  Rome  ;  went  down  for  the  second  time 
to  Sicily  (without  companion),  at  the  end  of  April,  and  got 
back  to  England  by  Palermo  in  the  early  part  of  July. 
The  strangeness  of  foreign  life  threw  me  back  into  myself  ; 
I  found  pleasure  in  historical  sites  and  beautiful  scenes, 
not  in  men  and  manners.  We  kept  clear  of  Catholics 
throughout  our  tour.  I  had  a  conversation  with  the  Dean 

so  of  Malta,  a  most  pleasant  man,  lately  dead  ;  but  it  was 
about  the  Fathers,  and  the  Library  of  the  great  church. 
I  knew  the  Abbate  Santini,  at  Rome,  who  did  no  more 
than  copy  for  me  the  Gregorian  tones.  Froude  and  I  made 
two  calls  upon  Monsignore  (now  Cardinal)  Wiseman  at  the 
Collegio  Inglese,  shortly  before  we  left  Rome.  (Once  we 
heard  him  preach  at  a  church  in  the  Corso.)  I  do  not 
recollect  being  in  a  room  with  any  other  ecclesiastics, 
except  a  Priest  at  Castro -Giovanni  in  Sicily,  who  called 
on  me  when  I  was  ill,  and  with  whom  I  wished  to  hold 

11  labours]  work  15  was]  were 


134  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

a  controversy.  As  to  Church  Services,  we  attended  the 
Tenebrae,  at  the  Sestine,  for  the  sake  of  the  Miserere  ;  and 
that  was  all.  My  general  feeling  was,  "  All,  save  the  spirit 
of  man,  is  divine."  I  saw  nothing  but  what  was  external  ; 
of  the  hidden  life  of  Catholics  I  knew  nothing.  I  was  still 
more  driven  back  into  myself,  and  felt  my  isolation. 
England  was  in  my  thoughts  solely,  and  the  news  from 
England  came  rarely  and  imperfectly.  The  Bill  for  the 
Suppression  of  the  Irish  Sees  was  in  progress,  and  filled 
my  mind.  I  had  fierce  thoughts  against  the  Liberals.  10 

It  was  the  success  of  the  Liberal  cause  which  fretted  me 
inwardly.  I  became  fierce  against  its  instruments  and  its 
manifestations.  A  French  vessel  was  at  Algiers  ;  I  would 
not  even  look  at  the  tricolour.  On  my  return,  though 
forced  to  stop  a  day  at  Paris,  I  kept  indoors  the  whole 
time,  and  all  that  I  saw  of  that  beautiful  city,  was  what 
I  saw  from  the  Diligence.  The  Bishop  of  London  had 
already  sounded  me  as  to  my  filling  one  of  the  Whitehall 
preacherships,  which  he  had  just  then  put  on  a  new  foot 
ing  ;  but  I  was  indignant  at  the  line  which  he  was  taking,  20 
and  from  my  Steamer  I  had  sent  home  a  letter  declining 
the  appointment  by  anticipation,  should  it  be  offered  to 
me.  At  this  time  I  was  specially  annoyed  with  Dr.  Arnold, 
though  it  did  not  last  into  later  years .  Some  one,  I  think, 
asked{,}  in  conversation  at  Rome,  whether  a  certain  inter 
pretation  of  Scripture  was  Christian  ?  it  was  answered 
that  Dr.  Arnold  took  it ;  I  interposed.  "  But  is  he  a  Chris 
tian  ?  "  The  subject  went  out  of  my  head  at  once  ;  when 
afterwards  I  was  taxed  with  it  I  could  say  no  more  in 
explanation,  than  ((what  I  believe  was  the  fact))  that  30 
I  thought  I  must  have  been  alluding  to  some  free  views  of 
Dr.  Arnold  about  the  Old  Testament : — I  thought  I  must 
have  meant,  "  (Arnold  answers  for  the  interpretation,) 
But  who  is  to  answer  for  Arnold  ?  "  It  was  at  Rome  too 
that  we  began  the  Lyra  Apostolica  which  appeared  monthly 
in  the  British  Magazine.  The  motto  shows  the  feeling  of 
both  Froude  and  myself  at  the  time  :  we  borrowed  from 
M.  Bunsen  a  Homer,  and  Froude  chose  the  words  in  which 

15  a  day]  twenty-four  hours 

31  thought  I  must  have  been  alluding  to]  must  have  had  in  rniud 


(TO  THE  YEAR  1833.)  135 

Achilles,  on  returning  to  the  battle,  says,  "  You  shall  know 
the  difference,  now  that  I  am  back  again." 

Especially  when  I  was  left  by  myself,  the  thought  came 
upon  me  that  deliverance  is  wrought,  not  by  the  many 
but  by  the  few,  not  by  bodies  but  by  persons.  Now  it 
was,  I  think,  that  I  repeated  to  myself  the  words,  which 
had  ever  been  dear  to  me  from  my  school  days,  "  Exoriare 
aliquis  !  " — now  too,  that  Southey's  beautiful  poem  of 
Thalaba,  for  which  I  had  an  immense  liking,  came  forcibly 
10  to  my  mind.  I  began  to  think  that  I  had  a  mission.  There 
are  sentences  of  my  letters  to  my  friends  to  this  effect,  if 
they  are  not  destroyed.  When  we  took  leave  of  Monsignore 
Wiseman,  he  had  courteously  expressed  a  wish  that  we 
might  make  a  second  visit  to  Rome  ;  I  said  with  great 
gravity,  "  We  have  a  work  to  do  in  England."  I  went 
down  at  once  to  Sicily,  and  the  presentiment  grew  stronger. 
•  I  struck  into  the  middle  of  the  island,  and  fell  ill  of  a  fever 
at  Leonforte.  My  servant  thought  that  I  was  dying,  and 
begged  for  my  last  directions.  I  gave  them,  as  he  wished  ; 
20  but  I  said,  "  I  shall  not  die."  I  repeated,  "  I  shall  not  die, 
for  I  have  not  sinned  against  light,  I  have,  not  sinned 
against  light."  I  never  have  been  able  to  make  out  at  all 
what  I  meant. 

I  got  to  Castro -Giovanni,  and  was  laid  up  there  for 
nearly  three  weeks.  Towards  the  end  of  May  I  set  off  for 
Palermo,  taking  three  days  for  the  journey.  Before  start 
ing  from  my  inn  in  the  morning  of  May  26th  or  27th,  I  sat 
down  on  my  bed,  and  began  to  sob  bitterly.  My  servant, 
who  had  acted  as  my  nurse,  asked  what  ailed  me.  I  could 
30  only  answer  (him),  "  I  have  a  work  to  do  in  England." 

I  was  aching  to  get  home  ;  yet  for  want  of  a  vessel 
I  was  kept  at  Palermo  for  three  weeks.  I  began  to  visit 
the  Churches,  and  they  calmed  my  impatience,  though 
I  did  not  attend  any  services.  I  knew  nothing  of  the 
Presence  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  there.  At  last  I  got 
off  in  an  orange  boat,  bound  for  Marseilles.  We  were 
becalmed  a  whole  week  in  the  Straits  of  Bonifacio.  Then 
it  was  that  I  wrote  the  lines,  "  Lead,  kindly  light,"  which 
have  since  become  well  known.  I  was  writing  verses  the 

25  set  off]  left 


136  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

whole  time  of  my  passage.  At  length  I  got  to  Marseilles; 
and  set  off  for  England.  The  fatigue  of  travelling  was  too 
much  for  me,  and  I  was  laid  up  for  several  days  at  Lyons. 
At  last  I  got  off  again,  and  did  not  stop  night  or  day(, 
(excepting  the  compulsory  delay  at  Paris,))  till  I  reached 
England,  and  my  mother's  house.  My  brother  had  arrived 
from  Persia  only  a  few  hours  before.  This  was  on  the 
Tuesday.  The  following  Sunday,  July  14th,  Mr.  Keble 
preached  the  Assize  Sermon  in  the  University  Pulpit.  It 
was  published  under  the  title  of  "  National  Apostasy."  10 
I  have  ever  considered  and  kept  the  day,  as  the  start  of 
the  religious  movement  of  1833. 


PART   IV. 

HISTORY  Otf  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

[Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  May  12,  1861.] 


tf  a 


PART   IV. 


HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS  (FROM   1833  TO   1839). 

IN  spite  of  the  foregoing  pages,  I  have  no  romantic  story 
to  tell ;  but  I  wrote  them,  because  it  is  my  duty  to  tell 
things  as  they  took  place.  I  have  not  exaggerated  the  feel 
ings  with  which  I  returned  to  England,  and  I  have  no 
desire  to  dress  up  the  events  which  followed,  so  as  to  make 
them  in  keeping  with  the  narrative  which  has  gone  before. 
I  soon  relapsed  into  the  every-day  life  which  I  had  hitherto 
led  ;  in  all  things  the  same,  except  that  a  new  object  was 
given  me.  I  had  employed  myself  in  my  own  rooms  in 
to  reading  and  writing,  and  in  the  care  of  a  Church,  before  I  left 
England,  and  I  returned  to  the  same  occupations  when 
I  was  back  again.  And  yet  perhaps  those  first  vehement 
feelings  which  carried  me  on  were  necessary  for  the  begin 
ning  of  the  Movement  ;  and  afterwards,  when  it  was  once 
begun,  the  special  need  of  me  was  over. 

When  I  got  home  from  abroad,  I  found  that  already 
a  movement  had  commenced  in  opposition  to  the  specific 
danger  which  at  that  time  was  threatening  the  religion  of 
the  nation  and  its  Church.  Several  zealous  and  able  men 

20  had  united  their  counsels,  and  were  in  correspondence  with 
each  other.  The  principal  of  these  were  Mr.  Keble,  Hurrell 
Froude,  who  had  reached  home  long  before  me,  Mr. 
William  Palmer  of  Dublin  and  Worcester  College  (not 
Mr.  W(illiam)  Palmer  of  Magdalen,  who  is  now  a  Catholic), 
Mr.  Arthur  Perceval,  and  Mr.  Hugh  Rose. 

To  mention  Mr.  Hugh  Rose's  name  is  to  kindle  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  knew  him,  a  host  of  pleasant  and 
affectionate  remembrances.  He  was  the  man  above  all 
others  fitted  by  his  cast  of  mind  and  literary  powers  to 

io  make  a  stand,  if  a  stand  could  be  made,  against  the  calamity 

Part  1VJ  Chapter  II  2  wrote]  have  written 


140  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

of  the  times.  He  was  gifted  with  a  high  and  large  mind, 
and  a  true  sensibility  of  what  was  great  and  beautiful ;  he 
wrote  with  warmth  and  energy  ;  and  he  had  a  cool  head 
and  cautious  judgment.  He  spent  his  strength  and 
shortened  his  life,  Pro  Ecclesia  Dei,  as  he  understood  that 
sovereign  idea.  Some  years  earlier  he  had  been  the  first 
to  give  warning,  I  think  from  the  "University  Pulpit  at 
Cambridge,  of  the  perils  to  England  which  lay  in  the 
biblical  and  theological  speculations  of  Germany.  The 
Reform  agitation  followed,  and  the  Whig  Government  10 
came  into  power  ;  and  he  anticipated  in  their  distribution 
of  Church  patronage  the  authoritative  introduction  of 
liberal  opinions  into  the  country  [: — by  "  liberal  "  I  mean 
liberalism  in  religion,  for  questions  of  politics,  as  such,  do 
not  come  into  this  narrative  at  all].  He  feared  that  by 
the  Whig  party  a  door  would  be  opened  in  England  to  the 
most  grievous  of  heresies,  which  never  could  be  closed 
again.  In  order  under  such  grave  circumstances  to  unite 
Churchmen  together,  and  to  make  a  front  against  the 
coming  danger,  he  had  in  1832  commenced  the  British  20 
Magazine,  and  in  the  same  year  he  came  to  Oxford  in  the 
summer  term,  in  order  to  beat  up  for  writers  for  his  publica 
tion  ;  on  that  occasion  I  became  known  to  him  through 
Mr.  Palmer.  His  reputation  and  position  came  in  aid  of 
his  obvious  fitness,  in  point  of  character  and  intellect,  to 
become  the  centre  of  an  ecclesiastical  movement,  if  such 
a  movement  were  to  depend  on  the  action  of  a  party.  His 
delicate  health,  his  premature  death,  would  have  frustrated 
the  expectation,  even  though  the  new  school  of  opinion  had 
been  more  exactly  thrown  into  the  shape  of  a  party,  than  30 
in  fact  was  the  case.  But  he  zealously  backed  up  the  first 
efforts  of  those  who  were  principals  in  it ;  and,  when  he 
went  abroad  to  die,  in  1838,  he  allowed  me  the  solace  of 
expressing  my  feelings  of  attachment  and  gratitude  to  him 
by  addressing  him,  in  the  dedication  of  a  volume  of  my 
Sermons,  as  the  man,  "  who,  when  hearts  were  failing, 
bade  us  stir  up  the  gift  that  was  in  us,  and  betake  ourselves 
to  our  true  Mother." 

But  there  were  other  reasons,  besides  Mr.  Rose's  state 
of  health,  which  hindered  those  who  so  much  admired  him  40 
from  availing  themselves  of  his  close  co-operation  in  the 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  141 

coming  fight.  United  as  both  he  and  they  were  in  the 
general  scope  of  the  Movement,  they  were  in  discordance 
with  each  other  from  the  first  in  their  estimate  of  the  means 
to  be  adopted  for  attaining  it.  Mr.  Rose  had  a  position  in 
the  Church,  a  name,  and  serious  responsibilities ;  he  had 
direct  ecclesiastical  superiors  ;  he  had  intimate  relations 
with  his  own  University,  and  a  large  clerical  connexion 
through  the  country.  Froude  and  I  were  nobodies  ;  with 
no  characters  to  lose,  and  no  antecedents  to  fetter  us. 

10  Rose  could  not  go  a-head  across  country,  as  Froude  had 
no  scruples  in  doing.  Froude  was  a  bold  rider,  as  on  horse 
back,  so  also  in  his  speculations.  After  a  long  conversa 
tion  with  him  on  the  logical  bearing  of  his  principles, 
Mr.  Rose  said  of  him  with  quiet  humour,  that  "  he  did  not 
seem  to  be  afraid  of  inferences."  It  was  simply  the  truth ; 
Froude  had  that  strong  hold  of  first  principles,  and  that 
keen  perception  of  their  value,  that  he  was  comparatively 
indifferent  to  the  revolutionary  action  which  would  attend 
on  their  application  to  a  given  state  of  things  ;  whereas 

20  in  the  thoughts  of  Rose,  as  a  practical  man,  existing  facts 
had  the  precedence  of  every  other  idea,  and  the  chief  test 
of  the  soundness  of  a  line  of  policy  lay  in  the  considera 
tion  whether  it  would  work.  This  was  one  of  the  first 
questions,  which,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  ever  occurred  to  his 
mind.  With  Froude,  Erastianism, — that  is,  the  union  (so 
he  viewed  it)  of  Church  and  State, — was  the  parent,  or  if 
not  the  parent,  the  serviceable  and  sufficient  tool,  of 
liberalism.  Till  that  union  was  snapped,  Christian  doctrine 
never  could  be  safe  ;  and,  while  he  well  knew  how  high 

30  and  unselfish  was  the  temper  of  Mr.  Rose,  yet  he  used  to 
apply  to  him  an  epithet,  reproachful  in  his  own  mouth  ; — 
Rose  was  a  "  conservative."  By  bad  luck,  I  brought  out 
this  word  to  Mr.  Rose  in  a  letter  of  my  own,  which  I  wrote 
to  him  in  criticism  of  something  he  had  inserted  into  the 
Magazine  :  I  got  a  vehement  rebuke  for  my  pains,  for 
though  Rose  pursued  a  conservative  line,  he  had  as  high 
a  disdain,  as  Froude  could  have,  of  a  worldly  ambition, 
and  an  extreme  sensitiveness  of  such  an  imputation. 
But  there  was  another  reason  still,  and  a  more  elementary 

24  ever]  on  every  occasion  34  into  the]  in  his 


142  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

one,  which  severed  Mr.  Rose  from  the  Oxford  Movement. 
Living  movements  do  not  come  of  committees,  nor  are 
great  ideas  worked  out  through  the  post,  even  though  it 
had  been  the  penny  post.  This  principle  deeply  penetrated 
both  Froude  and  myself  from  the  first,  and  recommended 
to  us  the  course  which  things  soon  took  spontaneously,  an<i 
without  set  purpose  of  our  own.  Universities  are  the 
natural  centres  of  intellectual  movements.  How  could 
men  act  together,  whatever  was  their  zeal,  unless  they 
were  united  in  a  sort  of  individuality  ?  Now,  first,  we  had  10 
no  unity  of  place.  Mr.  Rose  was  in  Suffolk,  Mr.  Perceval 
in  Surrey,  Mr.  Keble  in  Gloucestershire  ;  Hurrell  Froude 
had  to  go  for  his  health  to  Barbados.  Mr.  Palmer  indeed 
was  in  Oxford  ;  this  was  an  important  advantage,  and  told 
well  in  the  first  months  of  the  Movement  ; — but  another 
condition,  besides  that  of  place,  was  required. 

A  far  more  essential  unity  was  that  of  antecedents,— 
a  common  history,  common  memories,  an  intercourse  of 
mind  with  mind  in  the  past,  and  a  progress  and  increase 
of  that  intercourse  in  the  present.  Mr.  Perceval,  to  be  20 
sure,  was  a  pupil  of  Mr.  Keble's  ;  but  Keble,  Rose,  and 
Palmer,  represented  distinct  parties,  or  at  least  tempers, 
in  the  Establishment.  Mr.  Palmer  had  many  conditions 
of  authority  and  influence.  He  was  the  only  really  learned 
man  among  us.  He  understood  theology  as  a  science  ;  he 
was  practised  in  the  scholastic  mode  of  controversial  writ 
ing  ;  and  I  believe,  was  as  well  acquainted,  as  he  was 
dissatisfied,  with  the  Catholic  schools.  He  was  as  decided 
in  his  religious  views,  as  he  was  cautious  and  even  subtle 
in  their  expression,  and  gentle  in  their  enforcement.  But  so 
he  was  deficient  in  depth ;  and  besides,  coming  from 
a  distance,  he  never  had  really  grown  into  an  Oxford 
man,  nor  was  he  generally  received  as  such  ;  nor  had  he 
any  insight  into  the  force  of  personal  influence  and  con 
geniality  of  thought  in  carrying  out  a  religious  theory, — 
a  condition  which  Froude  and  I  considered  essential  to 
any  true  success  in  the  stand  which  had  to  be  made  against 
Liberalism.  Mr.  Palmer  had  a  certain  connexion,  as  it 
may  be  called,  in  the  Establishment,  consisting  of  high 

13-14  Barbados.     .  .  .  indeed  was]  Barbadoes.          .  was  indeed 
20  of]  in 


FROM  18.33  TO  1839.)  143 


Church  dignitaries,  Archdeacons,  London  Rectors,  and  the 
like,  who  belonged  to  what  was  commonly  called  the  high- 
and-dry  school.  They  were  far  more  opposed  than  even 
he  was  to  the  irresponsible  action  of  individuals.  Of  course 
their  beau  ideal  in  ecclesiastical  action  was  a  board  of  safe, 
sound,  sensible  men.  Mr.  Palmer  was  their  organ  and 
representative  ;  and  he  wished  for  a  Committee,  an  Associa 
tion,  with  rules  and  meetings,  to  protect  the  interests  of 
the  Church  in  its  existing  peril.  He  was  in  some  measure 

10  supported  by  Mr.  Perceval. 

I,  on  the  other  hand,  had  out  of  my  own  head  begun  the 
Tracts  ;  and  these,  as  representing  the  antagonist  principle 
of  personality,  were  looked  upon  by  Mr.  Palmer's  friends 
with  considerable  alarm.  The  great  point  at  the  time 
with  these  good  men  in  London, — some  of  them  men  of 
the  highest  principle,  and  far  from  influenced  by  what  we 
used  to  call  Erastianism, — was  to  put  down  the  Tracts. 
I,  as  their  editor,  and  mainly  their  author,  was  not  un 
naturally  willing  to  give  way.  Keble  and  Froude  advo- 

20  cated  their  continuance  strongly,  and  were  angry  with  me 
for  consenting  to  stop  them.  Mr.  Palmer  shared  the 
anxiety  of  his  own  friends  ;  and,  kind  as  were  his  thoughts 
of  us,  he  still  not  unnaturally  felt,  for  reasons  of  his  own, 
some  fidget  and  nervousness  at  the  course  which  his  Oriel 
friends  were  taking.  Froude,  for  whom  he  had  a  real  liking, 
took  a  high  tone  in  his  project  of  measures  for  dealing 
with  bishops  and  clergy,  which  must  have  shocked  and 
scandalized  him  considerably.  As  for  me,  there  was  matter 
enough  in  the  early  Tracts  to  give  him  equal  disgust ;  and 

so  doubtless  I  much  tasked  his  generosity,  when  he  had  to 
defend  me,  whether  against  the  London  dignitaries,  or  the 
country  clergy.  Oriel,  from  the  time  of  Dr.  Copleston  to 
Dr.  Hampden,  had  had  a  name  far  and  wide  for  liberality 
of  thought  ;  it  had  received  a  formal  recognition  from  the 
Edinburgh  Review,  if  my  memory  serves  me  truly,  as  the 
school  of  speculative  philosophy  in  England  ;  and  on  one 
occasion,  in  1833,  when  I  presented  myself,  with  some  of 
the  first  papers  of  the  Movement,  to  a  country  clergyman 
in  Northamptonshire,  he  paused  awhile,  and  then,  eyeing 

18-19  not  unnaturally]  of  course 


]44  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

me  with  significance,  asked,   "  Whether  Whately  was  at 
the  bottom  of  them  ?  " 

Mr.  Perceval  wrote  to  me  in  support  of  the  judgment  of 
Mr.  Palmer  and  the  dignitaries.  I  replied  in  a  letter,  which 
he  afterwards  published.  "  As  to  the  Tracts,"  I  said  to 
him  (I  quote  my  own  words  from  his  Pamphlet),  "  every 
one  has  his  own  taste.  You  object  to  some  things,  another 
to  others.  If  we  altered  to  please  every  one,  the  effect 
would  be  spoiled.  They  were  not  intended  as  symbols 
e  cathedrd,  but  as  the  expression  of  individual  minds  ;  and  10 
individuals,  feeling  strongly,  while  on  the  one  hand,  they  are 
incidentally  faulty  in  mode  or  language,  are  still  peculiarly 
effective.  No  great  work  was  done  by  a  system  ;  whereas 
systems  rise  out  of  individual  exertions.  Luther  was  an 
individual.  The  very  faults  of  an  individual  excite  atten 
tion  ;  he  loses,  but  his  cause  (if  good  and  he  powerful- 
minded)  gains.  This  is  the  way  of  things  :  we  promote 
truth  by  a  self-sacrifice." 

The  visit  which  I  made  to  the  Northamptonshire  Rector 
was  only  one  of  a  series  of  similar  expedients,  which  20 
I  adopted  during  the  year  1833.  I  called  upon  clergy  in 
various  parts  of  the  country,  whether  I  was  acquainted 
with  them  or  not,  and  I  attended  at  the  houses  of  friends 
where  several  of  them  were  from  time  to  time  assembled. 
I  do  not  think  that  much  came  of  such  -attempts,  nor  were 
they  quite  in  my  way.  Also  I  wrote  various  letters  to 
clergymen,  which  fared  not  much  better,  except  that  they 
advertised  the  fact,  that  a  rally  in  favour  of  the  Church 
was  commencing.  I  did  not  care  whether  my  visits  were 
made  to  high  Church  or  low  Church  ;  I  wished  to  make  RO 
a  strong  pull  in  union  with  all  who  were  opposed  to  the 
principles  of  liberalism,  whoever  they  might  be.  Giving 
my  name  to  the  Editor,  I  commenced  a  series  of  letters  in 
the  Record  Newspaper  :  they  ran  to  a  considerable  length  ; 
and  were  borne  by  him  with  great  courtesy  and  patience. 
They  were  headed  as  being  on  "  Church  Reform."  The 
first  was  on  the  Revival  of  Church  Discipline  ;  the  second, 
on  its  Scripture  proof  ;  the  third,  on  the  application  of  the 
doctrine  ;  the  fourth,  was  an  answer  to  objections  ;  the 

36  They  were  headed  as  being  on]  The  heading  given  to  them  was, 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  145 

fifth,  was  on  the  benefits  of  discipline.  And  then  the  series 
was  abruptly  brought  to  a  termination.  I  had  said  what 
I  really  felt,  and  what  was  also  Jn  keeping  with  the  strong 
teaching  of  the  Tracts,  but  I  suppose  the  Editor  discovered 
in  me  some  divergence  from  his  own  line  of  thought  ;  for 
at  length  he  sent  a  very  civil  letter,  apologizing  for  the 
non-appearance  of  my  sixth  communication,  on  the  ground 
that  it  contained  an  attack  upon  "  Temperance  Societies," 
about  which  he  did  not  wish  a  controversy  in  his  columns. 

10  He  added,  however,  his  serious  regret  at  the  character  of 
the  Tracts.  I  had  subscribed  a  small  sum  in  1828  towards 
the  first  start  of  the  Record. 

Acts  of  the  officious  character,  which  I  have  been  describ 
ing,  were  uncongenial  to  my  natural  temper,  to  the  genius 
of  the  Movement,  and  to  the  historical  mode  of  its  success  : 
— they  were  the  fruit  of  that  exuberant  and  joyous  energy 
with  which  I  had  returned  from  abroad,  and  which  I  never 
had  before  or  since.  I  had  the  exultation  of  health  restored, 
and  home  regained.  While  I  was  at  Palermo  and  thought 

20  of  the  breadth  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  wearisome 
journey  across  France,  I  could  not  imagine  how  I  was  ever 
to  get  to  England  ;  but  now  I  was  amid  familiar  scenes 
and  faces  once  more.  And  my  health  and  strength  came 
back  to  me  with  such  a  rebound,  that  some  friends  at 
Oxford,  on  seeing  me,  did  not  well  know  that  it  was  I,  and 
hesitated  before  they  spoke  to  me.  And  I  had  the  con 
sciousness  that  I  was  employed  in  that  work  which  I  had 
been  dreaming  about,  and  which  I  felt  to  be  so  momentous 
and  inspiring.  I  had  a  supreme  confidence  in  our  cause  ; 

ao  we  were  upholding  that  primitive  Christianity  which  was 
delivered  for  all  time  by  the  early  teachers  of  the  Church, 
and  which  was  registered  and  attested  in  the  Anglican 
formularies  and  by  the  Anglican  divines.  That  ancient 
religion  had  well  nigh  faded  away  out  of  the  land,  through 
the  political  changes  of  the  last  150  years,  and  it  must  be 
restored.  It  would  be  in  fact  a  second  Reformation  : — 
a  better  reformation,  for  it  would  be  a  return  not  to  the 
sixteenth  century,  but  to  the  seventeenth.  No  time  was 
to  be  lost,  for  the  Whigs  had  come  to  do  their  worst,  and 

40  the  rescue  might  come  too  late.  Bishopricks  were  already 
in  course  of  suppression  ;  Church  property  was  in  course  of 


146  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

confiscation  ;  Sees  would  soon  be  receiving  unsuitable 
occupants.  We  knew  enough  to  begin  preaching  upon,  and 
there  was  no  one  else  ta  preach.  I  felt  as  on  (board) 
a  vessel,  which  first  gets  under  weigh,  and  then  [clears  out] 
the  deck  (is  cleared  out),  and  [stores  away]  luggage  and  live 
stock  (stowed  away)  into  their  proper  receptacles. 

Nor  was  it  only  that  I  had  confidence  in  our  cause,  both 
in  itself,  and  in  its  controversial  force,  but  besides,  I  despised 
every  rival  system  of  doctrine  and  its  arguments  (too). 
As  to  the  high  Church  and  the  low  Church,  I  thought  that  10 
the  one  had  not  much  more  of  a  logical  basis  than  the 
other  ;  while  I  had  a  thorough  contempt  for  the  evangelical. 
I  had  a  real  respect  for  the  character  of  many  of  the  advo 
cates  of  each  party,  but  that  did  not  give  cogency  to  their 
arguments  ;  and  I  thought  on  the  other  hand  that  the  Apos 
tolical  form  of  doctrine  was  essential  and  imperative,  and  its 
grounds  of  evidence  impregnable.  Owing  to  this  (supreme) 
confidence,  it  came  to  pass  at  that  time,  that  there  was  a 
double  aspect  in  my  bearing  towards  others,  which  it  is  neces 
sary  for  me  to  enlarge  upon.  My  behaviour  had  a  mixture  in  20 
it  both  of  fierceness  and  of  sport ;  and  on  this  account,  I  dare 
say,  it  gave  offence  to  many ;  nor  am  I  here  defending  it. 

I  wished  men  to  agree  with  me,  and  I  walked  with  them 
step  by  step,  as  far  as  they  would  go  ;  this  I  did  sincerely  ; 
but  if  they  would  stop,  I  did  not  much  care  about  it,  but 
walked  on,  with  some  satisfaction  that  I  had  brought  them 
so  far.  I  liked  to  make  them  preach  the  truth  without 
knowing  it,  and  encouraged  them  to  do  so.  It  was  a  satis 
faction  to  me  that  the  Record  had  allowed  me  to  say  so 
much  in  its  columns,  without  remonstrance.  I  was  amused  so 
to  hear  of  one  of  the  Bishops,  who,  on  reading  an  early 
Tract  on  the  Apostolical  Succession,  could  not  make  up 
his  mind  whether  he  held  the  doctrine  or  not.  I  was  not 
distressed  at  the  wonder  or  anger  of  dull  and  self -conceited 
men,  at  propositions  which  they  did  not  understand. 
When  a  correspondent,  in  good  faith,  wrote  to  a  news- 

4,  5  clears  out  the  deck,  and  stores  away  luggage  and  live  stock 

1864]  the  deck  is  cleared  out,  and  the  luggage  and  live  stock  stored 

away  1864  (another  copy).  8  controversial  .  .  .  besides]  polemical 

also,  on  the  other  hand  12  evangelical]  controversial  position 

of  the  latter  15  other  hand]  contrary 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  147 

paper,  to  say  that  the  "  Sacrifice  of  the  Holy  Eucharist," 
spoken  of  in  the  Tract,  was  a  false  print  for  "  Sacrament," 
I  thought  the  mistake  too  pleasant  to  be  corrected  before 
I  was  asked  about  it.  I  was  not  unwilling  to  draw  an 
opponent  on  step  by  step  (,  by  virtue  of  his  own  opinions,) 
to  the  brink  of  some  intellectual  absurdity,  and  to  leave 
him  to  get  back  as  he  could.  I  was  not  unwilling  to  play 
with  a  man,  who  asked  me  impertinent  questions.  I  think 
I  had  in  my  mouth  the  words  of  the  Wise  man,  "  Answer 

10  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,"  especially  if  he  was  prying  or 
spiteful.  I  was  reckless  of  the  gossip  which  was  circulated 
about  me  ;  and,  when  I  might  easily  have  set  it  right,  did 
not  deign  to  do  so.  Also  I  used  irony  in  conversation, 
when  matter-of-fact  men  would  not  see  what  I  meant. 

This  kind  of  behaviour  was  a  sort  of  habit  with  me.  If 
I  have  ever  trifled  with  my  subject,  it  was  a  more  serious 
fault.  I  never  used  arguments  which  I  saw  clearly  to  be 
unsound.  The  nearest  approach  which  I  remember  to 
such  conduct,  but  which  I  consider  was  clear  of  it  never- 

20  theless,  was  in  the  case  of  Tract  15.  The  matter  of  this 
Tract  was  supplied  to  me  by  a  friend,  to  whom  I  had 
applied  for  assistance,  but  who  did  not  wish  to  be  mixed  up 
with  the  publication.  He  gave  it  me,  that  I  might  throw  it 
into  shape,  and  I  took  his  arguments  as  they  stood.  In 
the  chief  portion  of  the  Tract  I  fully  agreed  ;  for  instance, 
as  to  what  it  says  about  the  Council  of  Trent  ;  but  there 
were  arguments,  or  some  argument,  in  it  which  I  did  not 
follow  ;  I  do  not  recollect  what  it  was.  Froude,  I  think, 
was  disgusted  with  the  whole  Tract,  and  accused  me  of 

30  economy  in  publishing  it.  It  is  principally  through  Mr. 
Froude 's  Remains  that  this  word  has  got  into  our  language. 
I  think,  I  defended  myself  with  arguments  such  as  these  : — 
that,  as  every  one  knew,  the  Tracts  were  written  by  various 
persons  who  agreed  together  in  their  doctrine,  but  not 
always  in  the  arguments  by  which  it  was  to  be  proved  ; 
that  we  must  be  tolerant  of  difference  of  opinion  among 
ourselves  ;  that  the  author  of  the  Tract  had  a  right  to  his 
own  opinion,  and  that  the  argument  in  question  was 
ordinarily  received  ;  that  I  did  not  give  my  own  name  or 

21  supplied]  furnished 


148  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

authority,  nor  was  asked  for  my  personal  belief,  hut  only 
acted  instrumentally,  as  one  might  translate  a  friend's 
book  into  a  foreign  language.  I  account  these  to  be  good 
arguments  ;  nevertheless  I  feel  also  that  such  practices 
admit  of  easy  abuse  and  are  consequently  dangerous  ;  but 
then  again,  I  feel  also  this, — that  if  all  such  mistakes  were 
to  be  severely  visited,  not  many  men  in  public  life  would 
be  left  with  a  character  for  honour  and  honesty. 

This  absolute  confidence  in  my  cause,  which  led  me  to 
t-he  imprudence  or  wantonness  which  I  have  been  instanc- 10 
ing,  also  laid  me  open,  not  unfairly,  to  the  opposite  charge 
of  fierceness  in  certain  steps  which  I  took,  or  words  which 
I  published.  In  the  Lyra  Apostolica,  I  have  said  that, 
before  learning  to  love,  we  must  "  learn  to  hate  ;  "  though 
I  had  explained  my  words  by  adding  "  hatred  of  sin."  In 
one  of  my  first  Sermons  I  said,  "  I  do  not  shrink  from 
uttering  my  firm  conviction  that  it  would  be  a  gain  to  the 
country  were  it  vastly  more  superstitious,  more  bigoted, 
more  gloomy,  more  fierce  in  its  religion  than  at  present 
it  shows  itself  to  be."  I  added,  of  course,  that  it  would  be  20 
an  absurdity  to  suppose  such  tempers  of  mind  desirable  in 
themselves.  The  corrector  of  the  press  bore  these  strong 
epithets  till  he  got  to  "  more  fierce,"  and  then  he  put  in  the 
margin  a  query.  In  the  very  first  page  of  the  first  Tract, 
I  said  of  the  Bishops,  that,  "  black  event  though  it  would 
be  for  the  country,  yet  we  could  not  wish  them  a  more 
blessed  termination  of  their  course,  than  the  spoiling  of 
their  goods  and  martyrdom."  In  consequence  of  a  passage 
in  my  work  upon  the  Arian  History,  a  Northern  dignitary 
wrote  to  accuse  me  of  wishing  to  re-establish  the  blood  and  so 
torture  of  the  Inquisition.  Contrasting  heretics  and 
heresiarchs,  I  had  said,  "  The  latter  should  meet  with  no 
mercy  ;  he  assumes  the  office  of  the  Tempter,  and,  so  far 
forth  as  his  error  goes,  must  be  dealt  with  by  the  com 
petent  authority,  as  if  he  were  embodied  evil.  To  spare 
him  is  a  false  and  dangerous  pity.  It  is  to  endanger  the 
souls  of  thousands,  and  it  is  uncharitable  towards  himself." 
I  cannot  deny  that  this  is  a  very  fierce  passage  ;  but  Arius 
was  banished,  not  burned  ;  and  it  is  only  fair  to  myself  to 

10  imprudence]  negligence 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  149 

say  that  neither  at  this,  nor  any  other  time  of  my  life,  not 
even  when  I  was  fiercest,  could  I  have  even  cut  off  a 
Puritan's  ears,  and  I  think  the  sight  of  a  Spanish  auto- 
da-fe  would  have  been  the  death  of  me.  Again,  when  one 
of  my  friends,  of  liberal  and  evangelical  opinions,  wrote  to 
expostulate  with  me  on  the  course  I  was  taking,  I  said 
that  we  would  ride  over  him  and  his,  as  Othniel  prevailed 
over  Chushan-rishathaim,  king  of  Mesopotamia.  Again, 
1  would  have  no  dealings  with  my  brother,  and  I  put  my 
conduct  upon  a  syllogism.  I  said,  "St.  Paul  bids  us  avoid 

10  those  who  cause  divisions  ;  you  cause  divisions  :  therefore 
I  must  avoid  you."  I  dissuaded  a  lady  from  attending  the 
marriage  of  a  sister  who  had  seceded  from  the  Anglican 
Church.  No  wonder  that  Blanco  White,  who  had  known 
me  under  such  different  circumstances,  now  hearing  the 
general  course  that  I  was  taking,  was  amazed  at  the  change 
which  he  recognized  in  me.  He  speaks  bitterly  and  unfairly 
of  me  in  his  letters  contemporaneously  with  the  first  years 
of  the  Movement  ;  but  in  1839,  when  looking  back,  he 
uses  terms  of  me,  which  it  would  be  hardly  modest  in  me 

20  to  quote,  were  it  not  that  what  he  says  of  me  in  praise  is 
but  part  of  a  whole  account  of  me.  He  says  :  "In  this 
party  [the  anti-Peel,  in  1829]  I  found,  to  my  great  surprise, 
my  dear  friend,  Mr.  Newman  of  Oriel.  As  he  had  been 
one  of  the  annual  Petitioners  to  Parliament  for  Catholic 
Emancipation,  his  sudden  union  with  the  most  violent 
bigots  was  inexplicable  to  me.  That  change  was  the  first 
manifestation  of  the  mental  revolution,  which  has  suddenly 
made  him  one  of  the  leading  persecutors  of  Dr.  Hampden, 
and  the  most  active  and  influential  member  of  that  associa- 

30  tion,  called  the  Puseyite  party,  from  which  we  have  those 
very  strange  productions,  entitled,  Tracts  for  the  Times. 
While  stating  these  public  facts.,  my  heart  feels  a  pang  at 
the  recollection  of  the  affectionate  and  mutual  friendship 
between  that  excellent  man  and  myself  ;  a  friendship, 
which  his  principles  of  orthodoxy  could  not  allow  him  to 
continue  in  regard  to  one,  whom  he  now  regards  as  inevit 
ably  doomed  to  eternal  perdition.  Such  is  the  venomous 
character  of  orthodoxy.  What  mischief  must  it  create  in 

19  when]  on  21  is  but  part  of  a  whole  account  of  me]  occurs  in 

the  midst  of  blame  23  These  are  the  Author's  [] 


150  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

a  bad  heart  and  narrow  mind,  when  it  can  work  so  effec 
tually  for  evil,  in  one  of  the  most  benevolent  of  bosoms, 
and  one  of  the  ablest  of  minds,  in  the  amiable,  the  intel 
lectual,  the  refined  John  Henry  Newman  !  "  (Vol.  iii. 
p.  131.)  He  adds  that  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him,  a  circumstance  which  I  do  not  recollect,  and  very 
much  doubt. 

I  have  spoken  of  my  firm  confidence  in  my  position  ; 
and  now  let  me  state  more  definitely  what  the  position 
was  which  I  took  up,  and  the  propositions  about  which  10 
I  was  so  confident.    These  were  three  : — 

1.  First  was  the  principle  of  dogma  :  my  battle  was  with 
liberalism  ;  by  liberalism  I  meant  the  anti-dogmatic  prin 
ciple  and  its  developments.  This  was  the  first  point  on 
which  I  was  certain.  Here  I  make  a  remark  :  persistence 
in  a  given  belief  is  no  sufficient  test  of  its  truth  ;  but 
departure  from  it  is  at  least  a  slur  upon  the  man  who  has 
felt  so  certain  about  it.  In  proportion  then  as  I  had  in 
1832  a  strong  persuasion  in  beliefs  which  I  have  since 
given  up,  so  far  a  sort  of  guilt  attaches  to  me,  not  only  for  20 
that  vain  confidence,  but  for  my  multiform  conduct  in 
consequence  of  it.  But  here  I  have  the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  that  I  have  nothing  to  retract,  and  nothing  to 
repent  of.  The  main  principle  of  the  Movement  is  as  dear 
to  me  now,  as  it  ever  was.  I  have  changed  in  many  things  : 
in  this  I  have  not.  From  the  age  of  fifteen,  dogma  has 
been  the  fundamental  principle  of  my  religion  :  I  know 
no  other  religion  ;  I  cannot  enter  into  the  idea  of  any  other 
sort  of  religion  ;  religion,  as  a  mere  sentiment,  is  to  me 
a  dream  and  a  mockery.  As  well  can  there  be  filial  love  so 
without  the  fact  of  a  father,  as  devotion  without  the  fact 
of  a  Supreme  Being.  What  I  held  in  1816,  I  held  in  1833, 
and  I  hold  in  1864.  Please  God,  I  shall  hold  it  to  the  end. 
Even  when  I  was  under  Dr.  Whately's  influence,  I  had  no 
temptation  to  be  less  zealous  for  the  great  dogmas  of  the 
faith,  and  at  various  times  I  used  to  resist  such  trains  of 

19  in  beliefs]  of  the  truth  of  opinions 

21  my  multiform  conduct  inl  all  the  various  proceedings  which  were 
the  22  here]  under  this  first  head  24  Movement]  movement 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  151 

thought  on  his  part,  as  seemed  to  me  (rightly  or  wrongly) 
to  obscure  them.  Such  was  the  fundamental  principle  of 
the  Movement  of  1833. 

2.  Secondly,  I  was  confident  in  the  truth  of  a  certain 
definite  religious  teaching,  based  upon  this  foundation  of 
dogma  ;  viz.  that  there  was  a  visible  Church  (,)  with  sacra 
ments  and  rites  which  are  the  channels  of  invisible  grace. 
I  thought  that  this  was  the  doctrine  of  Scripture,  of  the 
early  Church,  and  of  the  Anglican  Church.  Here  again, 

10  I  have  not  changed  in  opinion  ;  1  am  as  certain  now  on 
this  point  as  I  was  in  1833,  and  have  never  ceased  to  be 
certain.  In  1834  and  the  following  years  I  put  this  eccle 
siastical  doctrine  on  a  broader  basis,  after  reading  Laud, 
Bramhall,  and  Stillingfleet  and  other  Anglican  divines  on 
the  one  hand,  and  after  prosecuting  the  study  of  the 
Fathers  on  the  other ;  but  the  doctrine  of  1833  was 
strengthened  in  me,  not  changed.  When  I  began  the  Tracts 
for  the  Times  I  rested  the  main  doctrine,  of  which  I  am 
speaking,  upon  Scripture,  (on  the  Anglican  Prayer  Book, 

20  and)  on  St.  Ignatius 's  Epistles [,  and  on  the  Anglican 
Prayer  Book].  (1)  As  to  the  existence  of  a  visible  Church, 
I  especially  argued  out  the  point  from  Scripture,  in  Tract  11, 
viz.  from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  and  the  Epistles.  (2)  As 
to  the  Sacraments  and  Sacramental  rites,  I  stood  on  the 
Prayer  Book.  I  appealed  to  the  Ordination  Service,  in 
which  the  Bishop  says,  "  Receive  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  "  to 
the  Visitation  Service,  which  teaches  confession  and 
absolution  ;  to  the  Baptismal  Service,  in  which  the  Priest 
speaks  of  the  child  after  baptism  as  regenerate  ;  to  the 

ao  Catechism,  in  which  Sacramental  Communion  is  receiving 
"  verily  (and  indeed)  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ  ;  "  to 
the  Commination  Service,  in  which  we  are  told  to  do 
"  works  of  penance  ;  "  to  the  Collects,  Epistles,  and 
Gospels,  to  the  calendar  and  rubricks,  (portions  of  the 
Prayer  Book,)  wherein  w-e  find  the  festivals  of  the  Apostles, 
notice  of  certain  other  Saints,  and  days  of  fasting  and 
abstinence. 

(3.)  And  further,  as  to  the  Episcopal  system,  1  founded 
it  upon  the  Epistles  of  St.  Ignatius,  which  inculcated  it  in 

40  various  ways.  One  passage  especially  impressed  itself  upon 
me  :  speaking  of  cases  of  disobedience  to  ecclesiastical 


152  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

authority,  lie  says,  ';  A  man  does  not  deceive  that  Bishop 
whom  he  sees,  but  he  practises  rather  upon  the  Rshop  In 
visible,  and  so  the  question  is  not  with  flesh,  but  with  God, 
who  knows  the  secret  heart."  I  wished  to  act  on  this  principle 
to  the  letter,  and  I  may  say  with  confidence  that  I  never 
consciously  transgressed  it.    I  loved  to  act  m  the  sight  of 
my  Bishop,  as  if  [I  was,  as]  it  were[,  m]  the  sight  of  God 
It  was  one  of  my  special  (supports  and)  safeguards  against 
mS  [and  of  my  supports] ;   I  could  not  go  very  wrong 
whne  I  had  reason  to  believe  that  I  was  in  no  respect  dis-  .0 
pleasing  him.    It  was  not  a  mere  formal  obedience  to  rule 
that  I  put  before  me,  but  I  desired  to  please  him  personally, 
as  I  considered  him  set   over  me  by  the  Divine  HancL 
I  was  strict  in  observing  my  clerical  engagements,  not  only 
because  they  were  engagements   but  because  I  considered 
myself  simply  as  the  servant  and  instrument  of  my  Bishop. 
I  did  not  care  much  for  the  Bench  of  Bishops,  except ,  as 
they  might  be  the  voice  of  my  Church  :  nor  should  I  have 
oared  much  for  a  Provincial  Council ;   nor  for  a  Diocesan 
Sd  presided  over  by  my  Bishop;    all  these  matters*, 
seemed  to  me  to  be  jure  ecclesiastico,  but  what  to  me  was 
'jure  divino  was  the  voice  of  my  Bishop  in  his  own  person. 
Mv  own  Bishop  was  my  Pope ;    I  knew  no  other  ;    the 
fucceTr  of  the  Apostle's,  the  Vicar  of  Christ.     This  was 
but  a  practical  exhibition  of  the  Anglican  theory  of  Church 
Government,  as  I  had  already  drawn  it  out  myself  (.after 
various  Anglican  Divines).    This  continued  all  through  my 
louSe     when  at  length  in  1845 1  wrote  to  Bishop  Wiseman, 
in  whose  Vicariate  I  found  myself,  to  announce  my  con- 
version,  I  could  find  nothing  better  to  say  to  him,  ^an  that  * 
I  would  obey  the  Pope  as  I  had  obeyed  my  own  Bishop  m 
the  Anglican  Church.    My  duty  to  him  was  my  point  ol 
honour      his   disapprobation  was   the   one  thing   which 
1  could'  not  bear.     I  believe  it  to  have  been  a  generous 
and  honest  feeling  ;    and  in  consequence  I  was  rewarded 
bv  having  all  my  time  for  ecclesiastical  superior  a  mail, 
whom  had  I  had  a  choice,  I  should  have  preferred,  out 
and  out,  to  any  other  Bishop  on  the  Bench,  and  for  whose 
memory  I  have  a  special  affection,  Dr.  Bagot-a  man  of 

2  upon  ISOi]  with  1884  (another  copy),  1*5.  , 

6  in  the  sight  of  my  BishopJ  as  feeling  myself  m  my  Bishop  b  sight 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  153 

noble  mind,  and  as  kind-hearted  and  as  considerate  as  he 
was  noble.  He  ever  sympathized  with  me  in  my  trials 
which  followed  ;  it  was  my  own  fault,  that  I  was  not 
brought  into  more  familiar  personal  relations  with  him 
than  it  was  my  happiness  to  be.  May  his  name  be  ever 
blessed  ! 

And  now  in  concluding  my  remarks  on  the  second  point 
on  which  my  confidence  rested,  I  observe  that  here  again 
I  have  no  retractation  to  announce  as  to  its  main  outline. 

10  While  I  am  now  as  clear  in  my  acceptance  of  the  principle 
of  dogma,  as  I  was  in  1833  and  1816,  so  again  I  am  now  as 
firm  in  my  belief  of  a  visible  Church,  of  the  authority  of 
Bishops,  of  the  grace  of  the  sacraments,  of  the  religious 
worth  of  works  of  penance,  as  I  was  in  1833.  I  have  added 
"  Articles  to  my  Creed  ;  but  the  old  ones,  which  I  then  held 
with  a  divine  faith,  remain. 

3.  But  now,  as  to  the  third  point  on  which  I  stood  in 
1833,  and  which  I  have  utterly  renounced  and  trampled 
upon  since, — my  then  view  of  the  Church  of  Rome  ; — I  will 

20  speak  about  it  as  exactly  as  I  can.  When  I  was  young,  as 
I  have  said  already,  and  after  I  was  grown  up,  I  thought 
the  Pope  to  be  Antichrist.  At  Christmas  1824-5  I  preached 
a  Sermon  to  that  effect.  (But)  In  1827  I  accepted  eagerly 
the  stanza  in  the  Christian  Year,  which  many  people 
thought  too  charitable,  "  Speak  gently  of  thy  sister's  fall." 
From  the  time  that  I  knew  Froude  I  got  less  and  less  bitter 
on  the  subject.  I  spoke  (successively,  but  I  cannot  tell  in 
what  order  or  at  what  dates)  of  the  Roman  Church  as  being 
bound  up  with  "  the  cause  of  Antichrist,"  as  being  one  of 

so  the  "  many  antichrists  "  foretold  by  St.  John,  as  being 
influenced  by  "  the  spirit  of  Antichrist,"  and  as  having 
something  "  very  Antichristian  "  or  "  unchristian  "  about 
her.  From  my  boyhood  and  in  1824  I  considered,  after 
Protestant  authorities,  that  St.  Gregory  I.  about  A.D.  600 
was  the  first  Pope  that  was  Antichrist,  and  again  that  he 
was  also  a  great  and  holy  man  ;  (but)  in  1832-3  I  thought 
the  Church  of  Rome  was  bound  up  with  the  cause  of  Anti 
christ  by  the  Council  of  Trent.  When  it  was  that  in  my 
deliberate  judgment  I  gave  up  the  notion  altogether  in 

8  observe]  repeat  3o  and  again  that]  though,  in  spite  of  this, 


154  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

any  shape,  that  some  special  reproach  was  attached  to  her 
name,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  had  a  shrinking  from  renouncing 
it,  even  when  my  reason  so  ordered  me,  from  a  sort  of  con 
science  or  prejudice,  I  think  up  to  1843.  Moreover,  at 
least  during  the  Tract  Movement,  I  thought  the  essence 
of  her  offence  to  consist  in  the  honours  which  she  paid  to 
the  Blessed  Virgin  and  the  Saints  ;  and  the  more  I  grew 
in  devotion,  both  to  the  Saints  and  to  Our  Lady,  the  more 
impatient  was  I  at  the  Roman  practices,  as  if  those  glorified 
creations  of  God  must  be  gravely  shocked,  if  pain  could  be  10 
theirs,  at  the  undue  veneration  of  which  they  were  the 
objects. 

On  the  other  hand,  Hurrell  Froude  in  his  familiar  con 
versations  was  always  tending  to  rub  the  idea  out  of  my 
mind.     In  a  passage  of  one  of  his  letters  from  abroad, 
alluding,  I  suppose,  to  what  I  used  to  say  in  opposition  to 
him,  he  observes  :    "I  think  people  are  injudicious  who 
talk  against  the  Roman  Catholics  for  worshipping  Saints, 
and  honouring  the  Virgin  and  images,  &c.     These  things 
may  perhaps  be  idolatrous  ;    I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  20 
about  it ;    but  to  my  mind  it  is  the  Carnival  that  is  real 
practical  idolatry,  as  it  is  written,  '  the  people  sat  down 
to  eat  and  drink,  and  rose  up  to  play.'  '      The  Carnival, 
I  observe  in  passing,  is,  in  fact,  one  of  those  very  excesses, 
to  which,  for  at  least  three  centuries,  religious  Catholics 
have  ever  opposed  themselves,  as  we  see  in   the   life   of 
St.  Philip,  to  say  nothing  of  the  present  day  ;   but  this  he 
did  not  know.    Moreover,  from  Froude  I  learned  to  admire 
the  great  medieval  Pontiffs  ;   and,  of  course,  when  I  had 
come  to  consider  the  Council  of  Trent  to  be  the  turning-  so 
point  of  the  history  of  Christian   Rome,  I  found  myself 
as  free,  as  I  was  rejoiced,  to  speak  in  their  praise.    Then, 
when  I  was  abroad,  the  sight  of  so   many  great  places, 
venerable   shrines,   and  noble  churches,   much  t  impressed 
my  imagination.    And  my  heart  was  touched  also.    Making 
an  expedition  on  foot  across  some  wild  country  in  Sicily, 
at  six  in  the  morning  I  came  upon  a  small  church ;  I  heard 
voices,  and  I  looked  in.   It  was  crowded,  and  the  congrega 
tion  was  singing.    Of  course  it  was  the  Mass,  though  I  did 

27  he  did  not]  we  did  not  then 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  155 

not  know  it  at  the  time.  And,  in  my  weary  days  at  Palermo, 
I  was  not  ungrateful  for  the  comfort  which  I  had  received 
in  frequenting  the  Churches,  nor  did  I  ever  forget  it. 
Then,  again,  her  zealous  maintenance  of  the  doctrine  and 
the  rule  of  celibacy,  which  I  recognized  as  Apostolic,  and 
her  faithful  agreement  with  Antiquity  in  so  many  (other) 
points  [besides,]  which  were  dear  to  me,  was  an  argument 
as  well  as  a  plea  in  favour  of  the  great  Church  of  Rome. 
Thus  I  learned  to  have  tender  feelings  towards  her  ;  but 

10  still  my  reason  was  not  affected  at  all.  My  judgment  was 
against  her,  when  viewed  as  an  institution,  as  truly  as  it 
ever  had  been. 

This  conflict  between  reason  and  affection  I  expressed 
in  one  of  the  early  Tracts,  published  July,  1834.  "  Con 
sidering  the  high  gifts  and  the  strong  claims  of  the  Church 
of  Rome  and  its  dependencies  on  our  admiration,  reverence, 
love,  and  gratitude  ;  how  could  we  withstand  it,  as  we  do, 
how  could  we  refrain  from  being  melted  into  tenderness, 
and  rushing  into  communion  with  it,  but  for  the  words  of 

so  Truth  itself,  which  bid  us  prefer  It  to  the  whole  world  ? 
'  He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  Me,  is  not 
worthy  of  me.'  How  could  '  we  learn  to  be  severe,  and 
execute  judgment,'  but  for  the  warning  of  Moses  against 
even  a  divinely-gifted  teacher,  who  should  preach  new 
gods  ;  and  the  anathema  of  St.  Paul  even  against  Angels 
and  Apostles,  who  should  bring  in  a  new  doctrine  ?  " 
Records.  No.  24.  My  feeling  was  something  like  that  of 
a  man,  who  is  obliged  in  a  court  of  justice  to  bear  witness 
against  a  friend  ;  or  like  my  own  now,  when  I  have  said, 

so  and  shall  say,  so  many  things  on  which  I  had  rather  be 
silent. 

As  a  matter,  then,  of  simple  conscience,  though  it  went 
against  my  feelings,  I  felt  it  to  be  a  duty  to  protest  against 
the  Church  of  Rome,  But  besides  this,  it  was  a  duty, 
because  the  prescription  of  such  a  protest  was  a  living 
principle  of  my  own  Church,  as  expressed  in  not  simply 
a  catena,  but  (by)  a  consensus  of  her  divines,  and  (by)  the 
voice  of  her  people.  Moreover,  such  a  protest  was  neces 
sary  as  an  integral  portion  of  her  controversial  basis  ;  for 

36  in  not  simply]  not  simply  in 


156  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

I  adopted  the  argument  of  Bernard  Gilpin,  that  Pro 
testants  "were  not  able  to  give  any  firm  and  solid  reason 
of  the  separation  besides  this,  to  wit,  that  the  Pope  is 
Antichrist."  But  while  I  thus  thought  such  a  protest  to 
be  based  upon  truth,  and  to  be  a  religious  duty,  and  a  rule 
of  Anglicanism,  and  a  necessity  of  the  case,  I  did  not  at  all 
like  the  work.  Hurrell  Froude  attacked  me  for  doing  it ; 
and,  besides,  I  felt  that  my  language  had  a  vulgar  and 
rhetorical  look  about  it.  I  believed,  and  really  measured, 
my  words,  when  I  used  them  ;  but  I  knew  that  I  had  10 
a  temptation,  on  the  other  hand,  to  say  against  Rome  as 
much  as  ever  I  could,  in  order  to  protect  myself  against 
the  charge  of  Popery. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  very  point,  for  which  I  have 
introduced  the  subject  of  my  feelings  about  Rome.  I  felt 
such  confidence  in  the  substantial  justice  of  the  charges 
which  I  advanced  against  her,  that  I  considered  them  to 
be  a  safeguard  and  an  assurance  that  no  harm  could  ever 
arise  from  the  freest  exposition  of  what  I  used  to  call 
Anglican  principles.  All  the  world  was  astounded  at  what  20 
Froude  and  I  were  saying  :  men  said  that  it  was  sheer 
Popery.  I  answered,  "  True,  we  seem  to  be  making  straight 
for  it  ;  but  go  on  awhile,  and  you  will  come  to  a  deep 
chasm  across  the  path,  which  makes  real  approximation 
impossible."  And  I  urged  in  addition,  that  many  Anglican 
divines  had  been  accused  of  Popery,  yet  had  died  in  their 
Anglicanism  ; — now,  the  ecclesiastical  principles  which 
I  professed,  they  had  professed  also  ;  and  the  judgment 
against  Rome  which  they  had  formed,  I  had  formed  also. 
Whatever  faults  then  (had  to  be  supplied  in)  the  (existing)  so 
Anglican  system  [might  have],  and  however  boldly  I  might 
point  them  out,  any  how  that  system  was  not  vulnerable 
on  the  side  of  Rome,  and  might  be  mended  in  spite  of  her. 
In  that  very  agreement  of  the  two  forms  of  faith,  close  as 
it  might  seem,  would  really  be  found,  on  examination,  the 
elements  and  principles  of  an  essential  discordance. 

It  was  with  this  supreme  persuasion  on  my  mind  that 
I  fancied  that  there  could  be  no  rashness  in  giving  to  the 

30  faults]  deficiencies 

32  was  not  vulnerable  on  the  side]  would  not  in  the  process  be  brought 
nearer  to  the  special  creed  37  supreme]  absolute 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  157 

world  in  fullest  measure  the  teaching  and  the  writings  of 
the  Fathers.  I  thought  that  the  Church  of  England  was 
substantially  founded  upon  them.  I  did  not  know  all  that 
the  Fathers  had  said,  but  I  felt  that,  even  when  their 
tenets  happened  to  differ  from  the  Anglican,  no  harm 
could  come  of  reporting  them.  I  said  out  what  I  was 
clear  they  had  said  ;  I  spoke  vaguely  and  imperfectly,  of 
what  I  thought  they  said,  or  what  some  of  them  had  said. 
Any  how,  no  harm  could  come  of  bending  the  crooked  stick 

10  the  other  way,  in  the  process  of  straightening  it ;  it  was 
impossible  to  break  it.  If  there  was  any  thing  in  the 
Fathers  of  a  startling  character,  it  would  be  only  for 
a  time  ;  it  would  admit  of  explanation  (,  or  it  might  suggest 
something  profitable  to  Anglicans)  ;  it  could  not  lead  to 
Rome.  I  express  this  view  of  the  matter  in  a  passage  of 
the  Preface  to  the  first  volume,  which  I  edited,  of  the 
Library  of  the  Fathers.  Speaking  of  the  strangeness  at 
first  sight,  presented  to  the  Anglican  mind,  of  some  of 
their  principles  and  opinions,  I  bid  the  reader  go  forward 

20  hopefully,  and  not  indulge  his  criticism  till  he  knows 
more  about  them,  than  he  will  learn  at  the  outset.  "  Since 
the  evil,"  I  say,  "  is  in  the  nature  of  the  case  itself,  we  can 
do  no  more  than  have  patience,  and  recommend  patience 
to  others,  and,  with  the  racer  in  the  Tragedy,  look  for 
ward  steadily  and  hopefully  to  the  event,  rw  reAei  TTLO-TLV 
c/>ep(m',  when,  as  we  trust,  all  that  is  inharmonious  and 
anomalous  in  the  details,  will  at  length  be  practically 
smoothed." 

Such   was   the   position,   such   the   defences,   such   the 

so  tactics,  by  which  I  thought  that  it  was  both  incumbent 
on  us,  and  possible  to  us,  to  meet  that  onset  of  Liberal 
principles,  of  which  we  were  all  in  immediate  anticipation, 
whether  in  the  Church  or  in  the  University.  And  during 
the  first  year  of  the  Tracts,  the  attack  upon  the  University 
began.  In  November  1834  was  sent  to  me  by  the  author 
the  second  Edition  of  a  Pamphlet  entitled,  "  Observations 
on  Religious  Dissent,  with  particular  reference  to  the  use  of 
religious  tests  in  the  University."  In  this  Pamphlet  it  was 

12  character,  it]  character,  this 

18  presented  to  the  Anglican  mind]  in  the  judgment  of  the  present  clay 

31  to  us]  for  us          35  the  author  1S64,  1865]  Dr.  Hampden  1873 


158  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

maintained,  that  "  Religion  is  distinct  from  Theological 
Opinion,"  pp.  1,  28,  30,  &c.  ;  that  it  is  but  a  common 
prejudice  to  identify  theological  propositions  methodically 
deduced  and  stated,  with  the  simple  religion  of  Christ,  p.  1 ; 
that  under  Theological  Opinion  were  to  be  placed  the 
Trinitarian  doctrine,  p.  27,  and  the  Unitarian,  p.  19 ;  that 
a  dogma  was  a  theological  opinion  (formally)  insisted  on, 
pp.  20,  21  ;  that  speculation  always  left  an  opening  for 
improvement,  p.  22  ;  that  the  Church  of  England  was  not 
dogmatic  in  its  spirit,  though  the  wording  of  its  formu- 10 
laries  may  often  carry  the  sound  of  dogmatism,  p.  23. 

I  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  this  work  in  the  following 
letter  : — 

"  The  kindness  which  has  led  to  your  presenting  me 
with  your  late  pamphlet,  encourages  me  to  hope  that  you 
will  forgive  me,  if  I  take  the  opportunity  it  affords  of 
expressing  to  you  my  very  sincere  and  deep  regret  that  it 
has  been  published.  Such  an  opportunity  I  could  not  let 
slip  without  being  unfaithful  to  my  own  serious  thoughts 
on  the  subject.  20 

"  While  I  respect  the  tone  of  piety  which  the  Pamphlet 
displays,  I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  put  on  paper  my  feel 
ings  about  the  principles  contained  in  it ;  tending,  as  they 
do,  in  my  opinion,  altogether  to  make  shipwreck  of  Chris 
tian  faith.  I  also  lament,  that,  by  its  appearance,  the  first 
step  has  been  taken  towards  interrupting  that  peace  and 
mutual  good  understanding  which  has  prevailed  so  long 
in  this  place,  and  which,  if  once  seriously  disturbed,  will 
be  succeeded  by  dissensions  the  more  intractable,  because 
justified  in  the  minds  of  those  who  resist  innovation  by  so 
a  feeling  of  imperative  duty." 

Since  that  time  Phaeton  has  got  into  the  chariot  of  the 
sun  ;  we,  alas  !  can  only  look  on,  and  watch  him  down 
the  steep  of  heaven.  Meanwhile,  the  lands,  which  he  is 
passing  over,  suffer  from  his  driving. 

Such  was  the  commencement  of  the  assault  of  Liberalism 
upon  the  old  orthodoxy  of  Oxford  and  England  ;  and  it 
could  not  have  been  broken,  as  it  was,  for  so  long  a  time, 

11  may]  might 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  159 

had  not  a  great  change  taken  place  in  the  circumstances  of 
that  counter-movement  which  had  already  started  with  the 
view  of  resisting  it.  For  myself,  I  was  not  the  person  to 
take  the  lead  of  a  party  ;  I  never  was,  from  first  to  last, 
more  than  a  leading  author  of  a  school ;  nor  did  I  ever 
wish  to  be  any  thing  else.  This  is  my  own  account  of  the 
matter,  and  I  say  it,  neither  as  intending  to  disown  the 
responsibility  of  what  was  done,  nor  as  if  ungrateful  to 
those  who  at  that  time  made  more  of  me  than  I  deserved, 

10  and  did  more  for  my  sake  and  at  my  bidding  than  I  realized 
myself.  I  am  giving  my  history  from  my  own  point  of 
sight,  and  it  is  as  follows  : — I  had  lived  for  ten  years 
among  my  personal  friends  ;  the  greater  part  of  the  time, 
I  had  been  influenced,  not  influencing  ;  and  at  no  time 
have  I  acted  on  others,  without  their  acting  upon  me.  As 
is  the  custom  of  a  University,  I  had  lived  with  my  private, 
nay,  with  some  of  my  public,  pupils,  and  with  the  junior 
fellows  of  my  College,  without  form  or  distance,  on  a  foot 
ing  of  equality.  Thus  it  was  through  friends,  younger,  for 

20  the  most  part,  than  myself,  that  my  principles  were 
spreading.  They  heard  what  I  said  in  conversation,  and 
told  it  to  others.  Undergraduates  in  due  time  took  their 
degree,  and  became  private  tutors  themselves.  In  this 
new  status,  in  turn,  they  preached  the  opinions  which 
they  had  already  learned  themselves.  Others  went 
down  to  the  country,  and  became  curates  of  parishes. 
Then  they  had  down  from  London  parcels  of  the  Tracts, 
and  other  publications.  They  placed  them  in  the  shops  of 
local  booksellers,  got  them  into  newspapers,  introduced 

jo  them  to  clerical  meetings,  and  converted  more  or  less  their 
Rectors  and  their  brother  curates.  Thus  the  Movement, 
viewed  with  relation  to  myself,  was  but  a  floating  opinion  ; 
it  was  not  a  power.  It  never  would  have  been  a  power,  if 
it  had  remained  in  my  hands.  Years  after,  a  friend,  writing 
to  me  in  remonstrance  at  the  excesses,  as  he  thought 
them,  of  my  disciples,  applied  to  me  my  own  verse  about 
St.  Gregory  Nazianzen,  "  Thou  couldst  a  people  raise,  but 
couldst  not  rule."  At  the  time  that  he  wrote  to  me,  I  had 
special  impediments  in  the  way  of  such  an  exercise  of 

8  nor]  or  23  this  ...  in  turn,  they]  their  .  .  .  they  in  turn 

24-25  which  . . .  learned  themselves]  with  which . .  .  become  acquainted 


160  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

power  ;    but  at  no  time  could  I  exercise  over  others  that 
authority,  which  under  the  circumstances  was  imperatively 
required.    My  great  principle  ever  was,  Live  and  let  live. 
I  never  had  the  staidness  or  dignity  necessary  for  a  leader. 
To  the  last  I  never  recognized  the  hold  I  had  over  young 
men.    Of  late  years  I  have  read  and  heard  that  they  even 
imitated  me  in  various  ways.    I  was  quite  unconscious  of 
it,  and  I  think  my  immediate  friends  knew  too  well  how 
disgusted  I  should  be  at  the  news,  to  have  the  heart  to  tell 
me.     I  felt  great  impatience  at  our  being  called  a  party,  10 
and  would  not  allow  that  we  were  (such).    I  had  a  lounging, 
free-and-easy  way  of  carrying  things  on.     I  exercised  no 
sufficient  censorship  upon*  the  Tracts.     I  did  not  confine 
them  to  the  writings  of  such  persons  as  agreed  in  all  things 
with  myself  ;   and,  as  to  my  own  Tracts,  I  printed  on  them 
a  notice  to  the  effect,  that  any  one  who  pleased,  might 
make  what  use  he  would  of  them,  and  reprint  them  with 
alterations  if  he  chose,  under  the  conviction  that  their 
main  scope  could  not  be  damaged  by  such  a  process.     It 
was   the   same   (with   me)    afterwards,   as   regards   other  20 
publications.    For  two  years  I  furnished  a  certain  number 
of  sheets  for  the  British  Critic  from  myself  and  my  friends, 
while  a  gentleman  was  editor,  a  man  of  splendid  talent, 
who,  however,  was  scarcely  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  and 
had  no  sympathy  with  the  Tracts.     When  I  was  Editor 
myself,  from  1838  to  1841,  in  my  very  first  number,  I 
suffered  to  appear  a  critique  unfavourable  to  my  work  on 
Justification,  which  had  been  published  a  few  months  before, 
from  a  feeling  of  propriety,  because  I  had  put  the  book 
into  the  hands  of  the  writer  who  so  handled  it.    Afterwards  so 
I  suffered  an  article  against  the  Jesuits  to  appear  in  it,  of 
which  I  did  not  like  the  tone.     When  I  had  to  provide 
a  curate  for  my  new  Church  at  Littlemore,   I  engaged 
a  friend,  by  no  fault  of  his,  who,  before  he  (had)  entered 
into  his  charge,  preached  a  sermon,  either  in  depreciation 
of  baptismal  regeneration,  or  of  Dr.  Pusey's  view  of  it. 
I  showed  a  similar  easiness  as  to  the  Editors  who  helped 
me  in  the  separate  volumes  of  Fleury's  Church  History  ; 
they  were  able,  learned,  and  excellent  men,  but  their  after 

9  the  news]  such  proceedings 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  161 

history  has  shown,  how  little  my  choice  of  them  was 
influenced  by  any  notion  I  could  have  had  of  any  intimate 
agreement  of  opinion  between  them  and  myself.  I  shall 
have  to  make  the  same  remark  in  its  place  concerning  the 
Lives  of  the  English  Saints,  which  subsequently  appeared. 
All  this  may  seem  inconsistent  with  what  I  have  said  of 
my  fierceness.  I  am  not  bound  to  account  for  it  ;  but  there 
have  been  men  before  me,  fierce  in  act,  yet  tolerant  and 
moderate  in  their  reasonings  ;  at  least,  so  I  read  history. 

10  However,  such  was  the  case,  and  such  its  effect  upon  the 
Tracts.  These  at  first  starting  were  short,  hasty,  and  some 
of  them  ineffective  ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  year,  when 
collected  into  a  volume,  they  had  a  slovenly  appearance. 
It  was  under  these  circumstances,  that  Dr.  Pusey  joined 
us.  I  had  known  him  well  since  1827-8,  and  had  felt  for 
him  an  enthusiastic  admiration.  I  used  to  call  him  6  //.eyas. 
His  great  learning,  his  immense  diligence,  his  scholarlike 
mind,  his  simple  devotion  to  the  cause  of  religion,  over 
came  me  ;  and  great  of  course  was  my  joy,  when  in  the 

20  last  days  of  1833  he  showed  a  disposition  to  make  common 
cause  with  us.  His  Tract  on  Fasting  appeared  as  one  of 
the  series  with  the  date  of  December  21.  He  was  not, 
however,  I  think  fully  associated  in  the  Movement  till  1835 
and  1836,  when  he  published  his  Tract  on  Baptism,  and 
started  the  Library  of  the  Fathers.  He  at  once  gave  to 
us  a  position  and  a  name.  Without  him  we  should  have 
had  no  chance,  especially  at  the  early  date  of  1834,  of 
making  any  serious  resistance  to  the  Liberal  aggression. 
But  Dr.  Pusey  was  a  Professor  and  Canon  of  Christ  Church  ; 

30  he  had  a  vast  influence  in  consequence  of  his  deep  religious 
seriousness,  the  munificence  of  his  charities,  his  Professor 
ship,  his  family  connexions,  and  his  easy  relations  with 
University  authorities.  He  was  to  the  Movement  all  that 
Mr.  Rose  might  have  been,  with  that  indispensable  addition, 
which  was  wanting  to  Mr.  Rose,  the  intimate  friendship 
and  the  familiar  daily  society  of  the  persons  who  had  com 
menced  it.  And  he  had  that  special  claim  on  their  attach 
ment,  which  lies  in  the  living  presence  of  a  faithful  and 
loyal  affectionateness.  There  was  henceforth  a  man  who 

27  no]  little 

APOLOGIA  Q 


162  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

could  be  the  head  and  centre  of  the  zealous  people  in  every 
part  of  the  country,  who  were  adopting  the  new  opinions  ; 
and  not  only  so,  but  there  was  one  who  furnished  the 
Movement  with  a  front  to  the  world,  and  gained  for  it  a 
recognition  from  other  parties  in  the  University.  In  1829 
Mr.  Froude,  or  Mr.  B(obert)  Wilberforce,  or  Mr.  Newman 
were  but  individuals  ;  and,  when  they  ranged  themselves 
in  the  contest  of  that  year  on  the  side  of  Sir  Robert 
Inglis,  men  on  either  side  only  asked  with  surprise  how 
they  got  there,  and  attached  no  significancy  to  the  10 
fact ;  but  Dr.  Pusey  was,  to  use  the  common  expression, 
a  host  in  himself  ;  he  was  able  to  give  a  name,  a  form, 
and  a  personality  to  what  was  without  him  a  sort  of  mob  ; 
and  when  various  parties  had  to  meet  together  in  order 
to  resist  the  liberal  acts  of  the  Government,  we  of  the 
Movement  took  our  place  by  right  among  them. 

Such  was  the  benefit  which  he  conferred  on  the  Move 
ment  externally  ;  nor  was  the  internal  advantage  at  all 
inferior  to  it.  He  was  a  man  of  large  designs  ;  he  had 
a  hopeful,  sanguine  mind  ;  he  had  no  fear  of  others  ;  he  20 
was  haunted  by  no  intellectual  perplexities.  People  are 
apt  to  say  that  he  was  once  nearer  to  the  Catholic  Church 
than  he  is  now  ;  I  pray  God  that  he  may  be  one  day  far 
nearer  to  the  Catholic  Church  than  he  was  then ;  for 
I  believe  that,  in  his  reason  and  judgment,  all  the  time 
that  I  knew  him,  he  never  was  near  to  it  at  all.  When 
I  became  a  Catholic,  I  was  often  asked,  "  What  of 
Dr.  Pusey  ?  "  when  I  said  that  I  did  not  see  symptoms  of 
his  doing  as  I  had  done,  I  was  sometimes  thought  uncharit 
able.  If  confidence  in  his  position  is,  (as  it  is,)  a  first  so 
essential  in  the  leader  of  a  party,  Dr.  Pusey  had  it.  The  most 
remarkable  instance  of  this,  was  his  statement,  in  one  of 
his  subsequent  defences  of  the  Movement,  when  too  it  had 
advanced  a  considerable  way  in  the  direction  of  Rome,  that 
among  its  hopeful  peculiarities  was  its  "  stationariness." 
He  made  it  in  good  faith  ;  it  was  his  subjective  view  of  it. 

Dr.  Pusey's  influence  was  felt  at  once.  He  saw  that  there 
ought  to  be  more  sobriety,  more  gravity,  more  careful 

18  was  .  .  .  advantage]  were  .  .  .  advantages  31  Dr.  Pusey  had  it] 
this  Dr.  Pusey  possessed  pre-eminently  33  too]  moreover  35  its 
hopeful  1S64]  its  most  hopeful  1864  (another  copy],  its  more  hopeful  1865 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  163 

pains,  more  sense  of  responsibility  in  the  Tracts  and  in  the 
whole  Movement.  It  was  through  him  that  the  character 
of  the  Tracts  was  changed.  When  he  gave  to  us  his  Tract 
on  Fasting,  he  put  his  initials  to  it.  In  1835  he  published 
his  elaborate  Treatise  on  Baptism,  which  was  followed  by 
other  Tracts  from  different  authors,  if  not  of  equal  learning, 
yet  of  equal  power  and  appositeness.  The  Catenas  of 
Anglican  divines(,  projected  by  me,)  which  occur  in  the 
Series,  [though  projected,  I  think,  by  me,]  were  executed 
o  with  a  like  aim  at  greater  accuracy  and  method.  In  1836 
he  advertised  his  great  project  for  a  Translation  of  the 
Fathers  : — but  I  must  return  to  myself.  I  am  not  writing 
the  history  either  of  Dr.  Pusey  or  of  the  Movement ;  but 
it  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  have  been  able  to  introduce  here 
reminiscences  of  the  place  which  he  held  in  it,  which  have 
so  direct  a  bearing  on  myself,  that  they  are  no  digression 
from  my  narrative. 

I  suspect  it  was  Dr.  Pusey's  influence  and  example  which 
set  me,  and  made  me  set  others,  on  the  larger  and  more 

jo  careful  works  in  defence  of  the  principles  of  the  Movement 
which  followed  in  a  course  of  years, — some  of  them  demand 
ing  and  receiving  from  their  authors,  such  elaborate  treat- 

;  ment  that  they  did  not  make  their  appearance  till  both 
its  temper  and  its  fortunes  had  changed.  I  set  about 
a  work  at  once  ;  one  in  which  was  brought  out  with  pre 
cision  the  relation  in  which  we  stood  to  the  Church  of 
Rome.  We  could  not  move  a  step  in  comfort,  till  this  was 
done.  It  was  of  absolute  necessity  and  a  plain  duty  (from 
the  first),  to  provide  as  soon  as  possible  a  large  statement, 

)  which  would  encourage  and  re -assure  our  friends,  and  repel 
the  attacks  of  our  opponents.  A  cry  was  heard  on  all  sides 
of  us,  that  the  Tracts  and  the  writings  of  the  Fathers 
would  lead  us  to  become  Catholics,  before  we  were  aware 
of  it.  This  was  loudly  expressed  by  members  of  the 
Evangelical  party,  who  in  1836  had  joined  us  in  making 
a  protest  in  Convocation  against  a  memorable  appoint 
ment  of  the  Prime  Minister.  These  clergymen  even  then 
avowed  their  desire,  that  the  next  time  they  were  brought 
up  to  Oxford  to  give  a  vote,  it  might  be  in  order  to  put 
down  the  Popery  of  the  Movement,  There  was  another 


164  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

reason  still,  and  quite  as  important.  Monsignore  Wiseman, 
with  the  acuteness  and  zeal  which  might  be  expected  from 
that  great  Prelate,  had  anticipated  what  was  coming,  had 
returned  to  England  in  1836,  had  delivered  Lectures  in 
London  on  the  doctrines  of  Catholicism,  and  created  an 
impression  through  the  country,  shared  in  by  ourselves, 
that  we  had  for  our  opponents  in  controversy,  not  only 
our  brethren,  but  our  hereditary  foes.  These  were  the 
circumstances,  which  led  to  my  publication  of  "  The  Pro 
phetical  office  of  the  Church  viewed  relatively  to  Romanism  10 
and  Popular  Protestantism." 

This  work  employed  me  for  three  years,  from  the  begin 
ning  of  1834  to  the  end  of  1836(,  and  was  published  in 
1837).  It  was  composed,  after  a  careful  consideration  and 
comparison  of  the  principal  Anglican  divines  of  the  17th 
century.  It  was  first  written  in  the  shape  of  controversial 
correspondence  with  a  learned  French  Priest ;  then  it  was 
re-cast,  and  delivered  in  Lectures  at  St.  Mary's  :  lastly, 
with  considerable  retrenchments  and  additions,  it  was 
re-written  for  publication.  20 

It  attempts  to  trace  out  the  rudimental  lines  on  which 
Christian  faith  and  teaching  proceed,  and  to  use  them  as 
means  of  determining  the  relation  of  the  Roman  and 
Anglican  systems  to  each  other.  In  this  way  it  shows  that 
to  confuse  the  two  together  is  impossible,  and  that  the 
Anglican  can  be  as  little  said  to  tend  to  the  Roman,  as  the 
Roman  to  the  Anglican.  The  spirit  of  the  Volume  is  not 
so  gentle  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  as  Tract  71  published 
the  year  before  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  very  fierce  ;  and 
this  I  attribute  to  the  circumstance  that  the  Volume  is  so 
theological  and  didactic,  whereas  the  Tract,  being  con 
troversial,  assumes  as  little  and  grants  as  much  as  possible 
on  the  points  in  dispute,  and  insists  on  points  of  agreement 
as  well  as  of  difference.  A  further  and  more  direct  reason 
is,  that  in  my  Volume  I  deal  with  "  Romanism  "  (as  I  call 
it),  not  so  much  in  its  formal  decrees  and  in  the  substance 
of  its  creed,  as  in  its  traditional  action  and  its  authorized 
teaching  as  represented  by  its  prominent  writers  ; — whereas 
the  Tract  is  written  as  if  discussing  the  differences  of  the 

4  in  1836]  by  1836 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  165 

Churches  with  a  view  to  a  reconciliation  between  them. 
There  is  a  further  reason  too,  which  I  will  state  presently. 
But  this  Volume  had  a  larger  scope  than  that  of  opposing 
the  Roman  system.  It  was  an  attempt  at  commencing 
a  system  of  theology  on  the  Anglican  idea,  and  based  upon 
Anglican  authorities.  Mr.  Palmer,  about  the  same  time, 
was  projecting  a  work  of  a  similar  nature  in  his  own  way. 
It  was  published,  I  think,  under  the  title,  "  A  Treatise  on 
the  Christian  Church."  As  was  to  be  expected  from  the 

10  author,  it  was  a  most  learned,  most  careful  composition  ; 
and  in  its  form,  I  should  say,  polemical.  So  happily  at 
least  did  he  follow  the  logical  method  of  the  Roman  Schools, 
that  Father  Perrone  in  his  Treatise  on  dogmatic  theology, 
recognized  in  him  a  combatant  of  the  true  cast,  and  saluted 
him  as  a  foe  worthy  of  being  vanquished.  Other  soldiers 
in  that  field  he  seems  to  have  thought  little  better  than  the 
lanzknechts  of  the  middle  ages,  and,  I  dare  say,  with  very 
good  reason.  When  I  knew  that  excellent  and  kind- 
hearted  man  at  Rome  at  a  later  time,  he  allowed  me  to 

Jo  put  him  to  ample  penance  for  those  light  thoughts  of  me, 
which  he  had  once  had,  by  encroaching  on  his  valuable 
time  with  my  theological  questions.  As  to  Mr.  Palmer's 
book,  it  was  one  which  no  Anglican  could  write  but  him 
self, — in  no  sense,  if  I  recollect  aright,  a  tentative  work. 
The  ground  of  controversy  was  cut  into  squares,  and  then 
every  objection  had  its  answer.  This  is  the  proper  method 
to  adopt  in  teaching  authoritatively  young  men  ;  and  the 
work  in  fact  was  intended  for  students  in  theology.  My 
own  book,  on  the  other  hand,  was  of  a  directly  tentative 

w  and  empirical  character.  I  wished  to  build  up  an  Anglican 
theology  out  of  the  stores  which  already  lay  cut  and  hewn 
upon  the  ground,  the  past  toil  of  great  divines.  To  do  this 
could  not  be  the  work  of  one  man  ;  much  less,  could  it  be 
at  once  received  into  Anglican  theology,  however  well  it 
was  done.  (This)  I  fully  (recognized  ;  and,  while  I)  trusted 
that  my  statements  of  doctrine  would  turn  out  (to  be)  true 
and  important ;  yet  I  wrote,  to  use  the  common  phrase, 
"  under  correction." 
There  was  another  motive  for  my  publishing,  of  a  personal 

37  important ;    yet]  important,  still 


166  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

nature,  which  I  think  I  should  mention.  I  felt  then,  and 
all  along  felt,  that  there  was  an  intellectual  cowardice 
in  not  having  a  basis  in  reason  for  my  belief,  and  a  moral 
cowardice  in  not  avowing  that  basis.  I  should  have  felt 
myself  less  than  a  man,  if  I  did  not  bring  it  out,  whatever  it 
was.  This  is  one  principal  reason  why  I  wrote  and  pub 
lished  the  "  Prophetical  Office."  It  was  on  the  same  feeling, 
that  in  the  spring  of  1836,  at  a  meeting  of  residents  on  the 
subject  of  the  struggle  then  proceeding  (against  a  Whig 
appointment),  (when)  some  one  wanted  us  all  merely  to  10 
act  on  college  and  conservative  grounds  (as  I  understood 
him),  with  as  few  published  statements  as  possible  :  I 
answered,  that  the  person  whom  we  were  resisting  had  com 
mitted  himself  in  writing,  and  that  we  ought  to  commit 
ourselves  too.  This  again  was  a  main  reason  for  the  publica 
tion  of  Tract  90.  Alas  !  it  was  my  portion  for  whole 
years  to  remain  without  any  satisfactory  basis  for  my 
religious  profession,  in  a  state  of  moral  sickness,  neither 
able  to  acquiesce  in  Anglicanism,  nor  able  to  go  to  Rome. 
But  I  bore  it,  till  in  course  of  time  my  way  was  made  clear  20 
to  me.  If  here  it  be  objected  to  me,  that  as  time  went  on, 
I  often  in  my  writings  hinted  at  things  which  I  did  not 
fully  bring  out,  I  submit  for  consideration  whether  this 
occurred  except  when  I  was  in  great  difficulties,  how  to 
speak,  or  how  to  be  silent,  with  due  regard  for  the  position 
of  mind  or  the  feelings  of  others.  However,  I  may  have 
an  opportunity  to  say  more  on  this  subject.  But  to  return 
to  the  "  Prophetical  Office." 

I  thus  speak  in  the  Introduction  to  my  Volume  : — 
"  It  is  proposed,"  I  say,  "  to  offer  helps  towards  the  so 
formation  of  a  recognized  Anglican  theology  in  one  of  its 
departments.  The  present  state  of  our  divinity  is  as 
follows  :  the  most  vigorous,  the  clearest,  the  most  fertile 
minds,  have  through  God's  mercy  been  employed  in  the 
service  of  our  Church  :  minds  too  as  reverential  and  holy, 
and  as  fully  imbued  with  Ancient  Truth,  and  as  well 
versed  in  the  writings  of  the  Fathers,  as  they  were  intel 
lectually  gifted.  This  is  God's  great  mercy  indeed,  for 
which  we  must  ever  be  thankful.  Primitive  doctrine  has 

3  having]  finding  7  on]  from  12  possible  :]  possible, 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  167 

been  explored  for  us  in  every  direction,  and  the  original 
principles  of  the  Gospel  and  the  Church  patiently  brought 
to  light.  But  one  thing  is  still  wanting  :  our  champions 
and  teachers  have  lived  in  stormy  times  :  political  and 
other  influences  have  acted  upon  them  variously  in  their 
day,  and  have  since  obstructed  a  careful  consolidation  of 
their  judgments.  We  have  a  vast  inheritance,  but  no 
inventory  of  our  treasures.  All  is  given  us  in  profusion  ; 
it  remains  for  us  to  catalogue,  sort,  distribute,  select, 

10  harmonize,  and  complete.  We  have  more  than  we  know 
how  to  use  ;  stores  of  learning,  but  little  that  is  precise 
and  serviceable  ;  Catholic  truth  and  individual  opinion, 
first  principles  and  the  guesses  of  genius,  all  mingled  in  the 
same  works,  and  requiring  to  be  discriminated.  We  meet 
with  truths  overstated  or  misdirected,  matters  of  detail 
variously  taken,  facts  incompletely  proved  or  applied,  and 
rules  inconsistently  urged  or  discordantly  interpreted. 
Such  indeed  is  the  state  of  every  deep  philosophy  in  its 
first  stages,  and  therefore  of  theological  knowledge.  What 

20  we  need  at  present  for  our  Church's  well-being,  is  not 
invention,  nor  originality,  nor  sagacity,  nor  even  learning 
in  our  divines,  at  least  in  the  first  place,  though  all  gifts  of 
God  are  in  a  measure  needed,  and  never  can  be  unseason 
able  when  used  religiously,  but  we  need  peculiarly  a  sound 
judgment,  patient  thought,  discrimination,  a  comprehen 
sive  mind,  an  abstinence  from  all  private  fancies  and 
caprices  and  personal  tastes, — in  a  word,  Divine  Wisdom." 
The  subject  of  the  Volume  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Via 
Media,  a  name  which  had  already  been  applied  to  the 

30  Anglican  system  by  writers  of  name.  It  is  an  expressive 
title,  but  not  altogether  satisfactory,  because  it  is  at  first 
sight  negative.  This  had  been  the  reason  of  my  dislike 
to  the  word  "  Protestant ;  "  [in  the  idea  which  it  con 
veyed,]  it  was  not  the  profession  of  any  (particular)  religion 
at  all,  and  was  compatible  with  infidelity.  A  Via  Media 
was  but  a  receding  from  extremes,( — )therefore  I  had  to 
draw  it  out  into  a  (definite)  shape[,]  and  [a]  character  ; 
before  it  had  claims  on  our  respect,  it  must  first  be  shown 

34  it  was  not]  viz.  it  did  not  denote 

36  I  had  to  draw  it]  it  needed  to  be  drawn 

38  had]  could  have 


168  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

to  be  one,  intelligible,  and  consistent.  This  was  the  first 
condition  of  any  reasonable  treatise  on  the  Via  Media. 
The  second  condition,  and  necessary  too,  was  not  in  my 
power.  I  could  only  hope  that  it  would  one  day  be  fulfilled. 
Even  if  the  Via  Media  were  ever  so  positive  a  religious 
system,  it  was  not  as  yet  objective  and  real ;  it  had  no 
original  any  where  of  which  it  was  the  representative.  It 
was  at  present  a  paper  religion.  This  I  confess  in  my 
Introduction  ;  I  say,  "  Protestantism  and  Popery  are  real 
religions  .  .  .  but  the  Via  Media,  viewed  as  an  integral  10 
system,  has  scarcely  had  existence  except  on  paper." 
I  grant  the  objection  and  proceed  to  lessen  it.  [There 
I  say,]  "  It  still  remains  to  be  tried,  whether  what  is 
called  Anglo -Catholicism,  the  religion  of  Andrewes,  Laud, 
Hammond,  Butler,  and  Wilson,  is  capable  of  being  pro 
fessed,  acted  on,  and  maintained  on  a  large  sphere  of  action, 
or  whether  it  be  a  mere  modification  or  transition-state 
of  either  Romanism  or  popular  Protestantism."  I  trusted 
that  some  day  it  would  prove  to  be  a  substantive  religion. 

Lest  I  should  be  misunderstood,  let  me  observe  that  this  20 
hesitation  about  the  validity  of  the  theory  of  the  Via  Media 
implied  no  doubt  of  the  three  fundamental  points  on  which 
it  was  based,  as  I  have  described  (them)  above,  dogma,  the 
sacramental  system,  and  opposition  to  the  Church  of  Rome. 

Other  investigations  which  (had  to  be)  followed  (up), 
gave  a  still  more  tentative  character  [to  what  I  wrote  or 
got  written].  The  basis  of  the  Via  Media,  consisting  of 
the  three  elementary  points,  which  I  have  just  mentioned, 
was  clear  enough  ;  but,  not  only  had  the  house  (itself)  to 
be  built  upon  them,  but  it  had  also  to  be  furnished,  and  it  so 
is  not  wonderful  if(,  after  building  it,)  both  I  and  others 
erred  in  detail  in  determining  what  that  furniture  should 
be,  what  was  consistent  with  the  style  of  building,  and 
what  was  in  itself  desirable.  I  will  explain  what  I  mean. 

I  had  brought  out  in  the  "  Prophetical  Office  "  in  what 
the  Roman  and  the  Anglican  systems  differed  from  each 
other,  but  less  distinctly  in  what  they  agreed.  I  had  indeed 

12  and  proceed]  ,  though  I  endeavour 

12  lessen  it.]  lessen  it : — 

23  opposition  to  the  Church  of  Rome]  anti-Romanism 

26  gave]  were  of  32  that]  its 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  169 

enumerated  the  Fundamentals,  common  to  both,  in  the 
following  passage  : — "  In  both  systems  the  same  Creeds 
are  acknowledged.  Besides  other  points  in  common  we 
both  hold,  that  certain  doctrines  are  necessary  to  be 
believed  for  salvation  ;  we  both  believe  in  the  doctrines 
of  the  Trinity,  Incarnation,  and  Atonement;  in  original 
sin  ;  in  the  necessity  of  regeneration  ;  in  the  supernatural 
grace  of  the  Sacraments  ;  in  the  Apostolical  succession ; 
in  the  obligation  of  faith  and  obedience,  and  in  the  eternity 

10  of  future  punishment." — Pp.  55,  56.  So  much  I  had  said, 
but  I  had  not  said  enough.  This  enumeration  implied 
a  great  many  more  points  of  agreement  than  were  found 
in  those  very  Articles  which  were  fundamental.  If  the 
two  Churches  were  thus  the  same  in  fundamentals,  they 
were  also  one  and  the  same  in  such  plain  consequences  as 
are  contained  in  those  fundamentals  or  as  outwardly  repre 
sented  them.  It  was  an  Anglican  principle  that  "  the 
abuse  of  a  thing  doth  not  take  away  the  lawful  use  of  it ;  " 
and  an  Anglican  Canon  in  1603  had  declared  that  the 

20  English  Church  had  no  purpose  to  forsake  all  that  was 
held  in  the  Churches  of  Italy,  France,  and  Spain,  and 
reverenced  those  ceremonies  and  particular  points  which 
were  Apostolic.  Excepting  then  such  exceptional  matters, 
as  are  implied  in  this  avowal,  whether  they  were  many  or 
few,  all  these  Churches  were  evidently  to  be  considered  as 
one  with  the,  Anglican.  The  Catholic  Church  in  all  lands 
had  been  one  from  the  first  for  many  centuries  ;  then, 
various  portions  had  followed  their  own  way  to  the  injury, 
but  not  to  the  destruction,  whether  of  truth  or  of  charity. 

so  These  portions  or  branches  were  mainly  three  : — the 
Greek,  Latin,  and  Anglican.  Each  of  these  inherited  the 
early  undivided  Church  in  solido  as  its  own  possession. 
Each  branch  was  identical  with  that  early  undivided 
Church,  and  in  the  unity  of  that  Church  it  had  unity  with 
the  other  branches.  The  three  branches  agreed  together 
in  all  but  their  later  accidental  errors.  Some  branches  had 
retained  in  detail  portions  of  Apostolical  truth  and  usage, 
which  the  others  had  not ;  and  these  portions  might  be 
and  should  be  appropriated  again  by  the  others  which  had 

16  are]  were  16  or]  and  in  such  natural  observances 

G3 


170  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

let  them  slip.  Thus,  the  middle  age  belonged  to  the 
Anglican  Church,  and  much  more  did  the  middle  age  of 
England.  The  Church  of  the  12th  century  was  the  Church 
of  the  19th.  Dr.  Howley  sat  in  the  seat  of  St.  Thomas 
the  Martyr  ;  Oxford  was  a  medieval  University.  Saving 
our  engagements  to  Prayer  Book  and  Articles,  we  might 
breathe  and  live  and  act  and  speak,  (as)  in  the  atmosphere 
and  climate  of  Henry  III.'s  day,  or  the  Confessor's,  or  of 
Alfred's.  And  we  ought  to  be  indulgent  of  all  that  Rome 
taught  now,  as  of  what  Rome  taught  then,  saving  our  10 
protest.  We  might  boldly  welcome,  even  what  we  did  not 
ourselves  think  right  to  adopt.  And,  when  we  were  obliged 
on  the  contrary  boldly  to  denounce,  we  should  do  so  with 
pain,  not  with  exultation.  By  very  reason  of  our  protest, 
which  we  had  made,  and  made  ex  animo,  we  could  agree 
to  differ.  What  the  members  of  the  Bible  Society  did  on 
the  basis  of  Scripture,  we  could  do  on  the  basis  of  the 
Church  ;  Trinitarian  and  Unitarian  were  further  apart 
than  Roman  and  Anglican.  Thus  we  had  a  real  wish  to 
co-operate  with  Rome  in  all  lawful  things,  if  she  would  let  20 
us,  and  (if)  the  rules  of  our  own  Church  let  us  ;  and  we 
thought  there  was  no  better  way  towards  the  restoration 
of  doctrinal  purity  and  unity.  And  we  thought  that  Rome 
was  not  committed  by  her  formal  decrees  to  all  that  she 
actually  taught ;  and  again,  if  her  disputants  had  been 
unfair  to  us,  or  her  rulers  tyrannical,  (we  bore  in  mind) 
that  on  our  side  too  there  had  been  rancour  and  slander 
in  our  controversy  with  her,  and  violence  in  our  political 
measures.  As  to  ourselves  being  (direct)  instruments  in 
improving  the  belief  or  practice  [of  Rome  directly],  I  used  so 
to  say,  "  Look  at  home  ;  let  us  first,  or  at  least  let  us  the 
while,  supply  our  own  short-comings,  before  we  attempt  to 
be  physicians  to  any  one  else."  This  is  very  much  the 
spirit  of  Tract  71,  to  which  I  referred  just  now.  I  am  well 
aware  that  there  is  a  paragraph  contrary  to  it  in  the 
Prospectus  to  the  Library  of  the  Fathers  ;  but  I  never 
concurred  in  it.  Indeed,  I  have  no  intention  whatever  of 

11,  12  of]  to  28  controversy  with]  controversial  attacks  upon 

30  the]  her  31-32  or  at  ...  while,]  (or  at  ...  while,) 

35  contrary  to]  inconsistent  with 

36  never  concurred  in]  do  not  consider  myself  responsible  for 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  171 

implying  that  Dr.  Pusey  concurred  in  the  ecclesiastical 
theory,  which  I  have  been  (now)  drawing  out ;  nor  that 
I  took  it  up  myself  except  by  degrees  in  the  course  of  ten 
years.  It  was  necessarily  the  growth  of  time.  In  fact, 
hardly  any  two  persons,  who  took  part  in  the  Movement, 
agreed  in  their  view  of  the  limit  to  which  our  general 
principles  might  religiously  be  carried. 

And  now  I  have  said  enough  on  what  I  consider  to  have 
been  the  general  objects  of  the  various  works  which  I  wrote, 

10  edited,  or  prompted  in  the  years  which  I  am  reviewing  ; 
I  wanted  to  bring  out  in  a  substantive  form,  a  living  Church 
of  England  in  a  position  proper  to  herself,  and  founded  on 
distinct  principles  ;  as  far  as  paper  could  do  it,  and  as 
earnestly  preaching  it  and  influencing  others  towards  it, 
could  tend  to  make  it  a  fact ; — a  living  Church,  made  of 
flesh  and  blood,  with  voice,  complexion,  and  motion  and 
action,  and  a  will  of  its  own.  I  believe  I  had  no  private 
motive,  and  no  personal  aim.  Nor  did  I  ask  for  more  than 
"  a  fair  stage  and  no  favour,"  nor  expect  the  work  would 

20  be  done  in  my  days  ;  but  I  thought  that  enough  would  be 
secured  to  continue  it  in  the  future  under,  perhaps,  more 
hopeful  circumstances  and  prospects  than  the  present. 

I  will  mention  in  illustration  some  of  the  principal  works, 
doctrinal  and  historical,  which  originated  in  the  object 
which  I  have  stated. 

I  wrote  my  Essay  on  Justification  in  1837  ;  it  was  aimed 
at  the  Lutheran  dictum  that  justification  by  faith  only 
was  the  cardinal  doctrine  of  Christianity.  I  considered 
that  this  doctrine  was  either  a  paradox  or  a  truism, — 

so  a  paradox  in  Luther's  mouth,  a  truism  in  Melanchthon. 
I  thought  that  the  Anglican  Church  followed  Melanchthon, 
and  that  in  consequence  between  Rome  and  Anglicanism, 
between  high  Church  and  low  Church,  there  was  no  real 
intellectual  difference  on  the  point.  I  wished  to  fill  up 
a  ditch,  the  work  of  man.  In  this  Volume  again,  I  express 
my  desire  to  build  up  a  system  of  theology  out  of  the 
Anglican  divines,  and  imply  that  my  dissertation  was 
a  tentative  Inquiry.  I  speak  in  the  Preface  of  "  offering 
suggestions  towards  a  work,  which  must  be  uppermost  in 

13  and]  as  far  20  done]  accomplished 

30  Melanchton]  Melanchthon's 


172  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

the  niind  of  every  true  son  of  the  English  Church  at  this 
day, — the  consolidation  of  a  theological  system,  which, 
built  upon  those  formularies,  to  which  all  clergymen  are 
bound,  may  tend  to  inform,  persuade,  and  absorb  into 
itself  religious  minds,  which  hitherto  have  fancied,  that, 
on  the  peculiar  Protestant  questions,  they  were  seriously 
opposed  to  each  other." — P.  vii. 

In  my  University  Sermons  there  is  a  series  of  discussions 
upon  the  subject  of  Faith  and  Reason  ;   these  again  were 
the  tentative  commencement  of  a  grave  and  necessary  10 
work ;  it  was  an  inquiry  into  the  ultimate  basis  of  religious 
faith,  prior  to  the  distinction  into  Creeds. 

In  like  manner  in  a  Pamphlet  which  I  published  in  the 
summer  of  1838  is  an  attempt  at  placing  the  doctrine  of 
the  Real  Presence  on  an  intellectual  basis.  The  funda 
mental  idea  is  consonant  to  that  to  which  I  had  been  so 
long  attached  ;  it  is  the  denial  of  the  existence  of  space 
except  as  a  subjective  idea  of  our  minds. 

The  Church  of  the  Fathers  is  one  of  the  earliest  pro 
ductions  of  the  Movement,  and  appeared  in  numbers  in  20 
the  British  Magazine,  and  was  written  with  the  aim  of 
introducing  the  religious  sentiments,  views,  and  customs 
of  the  first  ages  into  the  modern  Church  of  England. 

The  Translation  of  Fleury's  Church  History  was  com 
menced  under  these  circumstances  : — I  was  fond  of  Fleury 
for  a  reason  which  I  express  in  the  Advertisement ;  because 
it  presented  a  sort  of  photograph  of  ecclesiastical  history 
without  any  comment  upon  it.  In  the  event,  that  simple 
representation  of  the  early  centuries  had  a  good  deal  to 
do  with  unsettling  me  (in  my  Anglicanism)  ;  but  how  aa 
little  I  could  anticipate  this,  will  be  seen  in  the  fact 
that  the  publication  (of  Fleury)  was  a  favourite  scheme  of 
Mr.  Rose's.  He  proposed  it  to  me  twice,  between  the  years 
1834  and  1837  ;  and  I  mention  it  as  one  out  of  many 
particulars  curiously  illustrating  how  truly  my  change  of 
opinion  arose,  not  from  foreign  influences,  but  from  the 
working  of  my  own  mind,  and  the  accidents  around  me. 
The  date  at  which  the  portion  actually  translated  began 

11  work  ;  it  was]  work,  viz.  21  and  was]  being 

32  of  Mr.  Rose's]  with  Mr.  Rose  38  at]  ,from 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  173 

was  determined  by  the  Publisher  on  reasons  with  which 
we  were  not  concerned. 

Another  historical  work,  but  drawn  from  original  sources, 
was  given  to  the  world  by  my  old  friend  Mr.  Bowden,  being 
a  Life  of  Pope  Gregory  VII.  I  need  scarcely  recall  to  those 
who  have  read  it,  the  power  and  the  liveliness  of  the  narra 
tive.  This  composition  was  the  author's  relaxation  on 
evenings  and  in  his  summer  vacations,  from  his  ordinary 
engagements  in  London.  It  had  been  suggested  to  him 

10  originally  by  me,  at  the  instance  of  Hurrell  Froude. 

The  Series  of  the  Lives  of  the  English  Saints  was  pro 
jected  at  a  later  period,  under  circumstances  which  I  shall 
have  in  the  sequel  to  describe.  Those  beautiful  com 
positions  have  nothing  in  them,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  simply 
inconsistent  with  the  general  objects  which  I  have  been 
assigning  to  my  labours  in  these  years,  though  the  immediate 
occasion  of  them  and  their  tone  (in  which  they  were  written,) 
could  not  in  the  exercise  of  the  largest  indulgence  be  said 
to  have  an  Anglican  direction. 

20  At  a  comparatively  early  date  I  drew  up  the  Tract  on 
the  Roman  Breviary.  It  frightened  my  own  friends  on 
its  first  appearance,  and,  several  years  afterwards,  when 
younger  men  began  to  translate  for  publication  the  four 
volumes  in  extenso,  they  were  dissuaded  from  doing  so  by 
advice  to  which  from  a  sense  of  duty  they  listened.  It  was 
an  apparent  accident  which  introduced  me  to  the  know 
ledge  of  that  most  wonderful  and  most  attractive  monu 
ment  of  the  devotion  of  saints.  On  Hurrell  Froude's 
death,  in  1836,  I  was  asked  to  select  one  of  his  books  as 

so  a  keepsake.  I  selected  Butler's  Analogy  ;  finding  that  it 
had  been  already  chosen,  I  looked  with  some  perplexity 
along  the  shelves  as  they  stood  before  me,  when  an  intimate 
friend  at  my  elbow  said,  "  Take  that."  It  was  the  Breviary 
which  Hurrell  had  had  with  him  at  Barbados.  Accord 
ingly  I  took  it,  studied  it,  wrote  my  Tract  from  it,  and 
have  it  on  my  table  in  constant  use  till  this  day. 
That  dear  and  familiar  companion,  who  thus  put  the 

17  of  them  and  their]  which  led  to  them,  and  the 

18  could  not  in  the  exercise  of  the  largest  indulgence  be  said  to  have 
an  Anglican  direction]  had  little  that  was  congenial  with  Anglicanism 

34  Barbados]  Barbadoea 


174  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

Breviary  into  my  hands,  is  still  in  the  Anglican  Church. 
So  too  is  that  early  venerated  long-loved  friend,  together 
with  whom  I  edited  a  work  which,  more  perhaps  than  any 
other,  caused  disturbance  and  annoyance  in  the  Anglican 
worlcl,( — )Froude's  Remains  ;  yet,  however  judgment(s) 
might  run  as  to  the  prudence  of  publishing  it,  I  never 
heard  any  one  impute  to  Mr.  Keble  the  very  shadow  of 
dishonesty  or  treachery  towards  his  Church  in  so  acting. 

The  annotated  Translation  of  the  Treatise(s)  of  St. 
Athanasius  was  of  course  in  no  sense  a  tentative  work  ;  it  10 
belongs  to  another  order  of  thought.  This  historico- 
dogmatic  work  employed  me  for  years.  I  had  made 
preparations  for  following  it  up  with  a  doctrinal  history 
of  the  heresies  which  succeeded  to  the  Arian. 

I  should  make  mention  also  of  the  British  Critic.  I  was 
Editor  of  it  for  three  years,  from  July  1838  to  July  1841. 
My  writers  belonged  to  various  schools,  some  to  none  at 
all.  The  subjects  are  various, — classical,  academical, 
political,  critical,  and  artistic,  as  well  as  theological,  and 
upon  the  Movement  none  are  to  be  found  which  do  not  20 
keep  quite  clear  of  advocating  the  cause  of  Rome. 

So  I  went  on  for  years,  up  to  1841.  It  was,  in  a  human 
point  of  view,  the  happiest  time  of  my  life.  I  was  truly 
at  home.  I  had  in  one  of  my  volumes  appropriated  to 
myself  the  words  of  Bramhall,  "  Bees,  by  the  instinct  of 
nature,  do  love  their  hives,  and  birds  their  nests."  I  did 
not  suppose  that  such  sunshine  would  last,  though  I  knew 
not  what  would  be  its  termination.  It  was  the  time  of 
plenty,  and,  during  its  seven  years,  I  tried  to  lay  up  as 
much  as  I  could  for  the  dearth  which  was  to  follow  it.  so 
We  prospered  and  spread.  I  have  spoken  of  the  doings 
of  these  years,  since  I  was  a  Catholic,  in  a  passage,  part  of 
which  I  will  (here)  quote[,  though  there  is  a  sentence  in  it 
that  requires  some  limitation]  : 

"  From  beginnings  so  small,"  I  said,  "  from  elements  of 
thought  so  fortuitous,  with  prospects  so  unpromising,  the 
Anglo -Catholic  party  suddenly  became  a  power  in  the 
National  Church,  and  an  object  of  alarm  to  her  rulers  and 

11  a  tentative  work]  of  a  tentative  character 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  175 

friends.  Its  originators  would  have  found  it  difficult  to 
say  what  they  aimed  at  of  a  practical  kind  :  rather,  they 
put  forth  views  and  principles,  for  their  own  sake,  because 
they  were  true,  as  if  they  were  obliged  to  say  them  ;  and, 
as  they  might  be  themselves  surprised  at  their  earnestness 
in  uttering  them,  they  had  as  great  cause  to  be  surprised 
at  the  success  which  attended  their  propagation.  And,  in 
fact,  they  could  only  say  that  those  doctrines  were  in  the 
air  ;  that  to  assert  was  to  prove,  and  that  to  explain  was 
10  to  persuade  ;  and  that  the  Movement  in  which  they  were 
taking  part  was  the  birth  of  a  crisis  rather  than  of  a  place. 
In  a  very  few  years  a  school  of  opinion  was  formed,  fixed 
in  its  principles,  indefinite  and  progressive  in  their  range  ; 
and  it  extended  itself  into  every  part  of  the  country.  If 
we  inquire  what  the  world  thought  of  it,  we  have  still 
more  to  raise  our  wonder  ;  for,  not  to  mention  the  excite 
ment  it  caused  in  England,  the  Movement  and  its  party- 
names  were  known  to  the  police  of  Italy  and  to  the  back- 
woodmen  of  America.  And  so  it  proceeded,  getting  stronger 
20  and  stronger  every  year,  till  it  came  into  collision  with  the 
Nation,  and  that  Church  of  the  Nation,  which  it  began  by 
professing  especially  to  serve." 

The  greater  its  success,  the  nearer  was  that  collision  at 
hand.  The  first  threatenings  of  the  crisis  were  heard  in 
1838.  At  that  time,  my  Bishop  in  a  Charge  made  some 
light  animadversions,  but  they  were,  animadversions,  on 
the  Tracts  for  the  Times.  At  once  I  offered  to  stop  them. 
What  took  place  on  the  occasion  I  prefer  to  state  in  the 
words,  in  which  I  related  it  in  a  Pamphlet  addressed  to 
so  him  in  a  later  year,  when  the  blow  actually  came  down 
upon  me. 

"In  your  Lordship's  Charge  for  1838,"  I  said,  an 
allusion  was  made  to  the  Tracts  for  the  Times.  Some 
opponents  of  the  Tracts  said  that  you  treated  them  with 
undue  indulgence.  ...  I  wrote  to  the  Archdeacon  on  the 
subject,  submitting  the  Tracts  entirely  to  your  Lordship's 
disposal.  What  I  thought  about  your  Charge  will  appear 
from  the  words  I  then  used  to  him.  I  said,  '  A  Bishop's 
lightest  word  ex  cathedrd  is  heavy.  His  judgment  on 

24  the  crisis]  what  was  coming 


176  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

a  book  cannot  be  light.  It  is  a  rare  occurrence.'  And 
I  offered  to  withdraw  any  of  the  Tracts  over  which  I  had 
control,  if  I  were  informed  which  were  those  to  which  your 
Lordship  had  objections.  I  afterwards  wrote  to  your 
Lordship  to  this  effect,  that '  I  trusted  I  might  say  sincerely, 
that  I  should  feel  a  more  lively  pleasure  in  knowing  that 
I  was  submitting  myself  to  your  Lordship's  expressed 
judgment  in  a  matter  of  that  kind,  than  I  could  have  even 
in  the  widest  circulation  of  the  volumes  in  question.' 
Your  Lordship  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  proceed  to  10 
such  a  measure,  but  I  felt,  and  always  have  felt,  that,  if 
ever  you  determined  on  it,  I  was  bound  to  obey." 

That  day  at  length  came,  and  I  conclude  this  portion  of 
my  narrative,  with  relating  the  circumstances  of  it. 

From  the  time  that  I  had  entered  upon  the  duties  of 
Public  Tutor  at  my  College,  when  my  doctrinal  views  were 
very  different  from  what  they  were  in  1841, 1  had  meditated 
a  comment  upon  the  Articles.    Then,  when  the  Movement 
was  in  its  swing,  friends  had  said  to  me,  "  What  will  you 
make  of  the  Articles  ?  "  but  I  did  not  share  the  apprehen-  20 
sion  which  their  question  implied.    Whether,  as  time  went 
on,  I  should  have  been  forced,  by  the  necessities  of  the 
original  theory  of  the  Movement,  to  put  on  paper  the 
speculations  which  I  had  about  them,  I  am  not  able  to 
conjecture.     The   actual   cause   of   my   doing   so,   in   the 
beginning  of  1841,  was  the  restlessness,  actual  and  pro 
spective,  of  those  who  neither  liked  the   Via  Media,  nor 
my  strong  judgment  against  Rome.    I  had  been  enjoined, 
E  think  by  my  Bishop,  to  keep  these  men  straight,  and 
I  wished  so  to  do  :    but  their  tangible  difficulty  was  sub-  so 
scription  to  the  Articles  ;    and  thus  the  question  of  the 
Articles  came  before  me.     It  was  thrown  in  our  teeth ; 
"  How  can  you  manage  to  sign  the  Articles  ?    they  are 
directly   against   Rome."       "  Against   Rome  ?  "   I   made 
answer,  "  What  do  you  mean  by  '  Rome  ?  '  "    and  then 
I  proceeded  to  make  distinctions,  of  which  I  shall  now  give 
an  account. 

By  "  Roman  doctrine  "  might  be  meant  one  of  three 
things  :  1,  the  Catholic  teaching  of  the  early  centuries  ; 
or  2,  the  formal  dogmas  of  Rome  as  contained  in  the  later  40 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  177 

Councils,  especially  the  Council  of  Trent,  and  as  condensed 
in  the  Creed  of  Pope  Pius  IV.  ;  3,  the  actual  popular  beliefs 
and  usages  sanctioned  by  Rome  in  the  countries  in  com 
munion  with  it,  over  and  above  the  dogmas  ;  and  these 
I  called  "  dominant  errors."  Now  Protestants  commonly 
thought  that  in  all  three  senses,  '  Roman  doctrine  "  was 
condemned  in  the  Articles  :  I  thought  that  the  Catholic 
teaching  was  not  condemned  ;  that  the  dominant  errors 
were  ;  and  as  to  the  formal  dogmas,  that  some  were,  some 

10  were  not,  and  that  the  line  had  to  be  drawn  between  them. 
Thus,  1,  the  use  of  Prayers  for  the  dead  was  a  Catholic 
doctrine, — not  condemned  (in  the  Articles)  ;  2,  £he  prison 
of  Purgatory  was  a  Roman  dogma, — which  was  con 
demned  (in  them)  ;  but  the  infallibility  of  Ecumenical 
Councils  was  a  Roman  dogma, — not  condemned  ;  and  3, 
the  fire  of  Purgatory  was  an  authorized  and  popular  error, 
not  a  dogma, — which  was  condemned. 

Further,  I  considered  that  the  difficulties,  felt  by  the 
persons  whom  I  have  mentioned,  mainly  lay  in  their 

20  mistaking,  1,  Catholic  teaching,  which  was  not  condemned 
in  the  Articles,  for  Roman  dogma  which  was  condemned ; 
and  2,  Roman  dogma,  which  was  not  condemned  in  the 
Articles,  for  dominant  error  which  was.  If  they  went 
further  than  this,  I  had  nothing  more  to  say  to  them. 

A  further  motive  which  I  had  for  my  attempt,  was  the 
desire  to  ascertain  the  ultimate  points  of  contrariety 
between  the  Roman  and  Anglican  creeds,  and  to  make 
them  as  few  as  possible.  I  thought  that  each  creed  was 
obscured  and  misrepresented  by  a  dominant  circumambient 

w  "  Popery  "  and  "  Protestantism." 

The  main  thesis  then  of  my  Essay  was  this : — the 
Articles  do  not  oppose  Catholic  teaching ;  they  but  partially 
oppose  Roman  dogma  ;  they  for  the  most  part  oppose  the 
dominant  errors  of  Rome.  And  the  problem  was(,  as 
I  have  said,)  to  draw  the  line  as  to  what  they  allowed  and 
what  they  condemned. 

Such  being  the  object  which  I  had  in  view,  what  were 
my  prospects  of  widening  and  (of)  defining  their  meaning  ? 
The  prospect  was  encouraging  ;  there  was  no  doubt  at  all 

11  l,the]  l.The     and  so  with  2  and  3  in  lines  12  and  15 


178  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

of  the  elasticity  of  the  Articles  :  to  take  a  palmary  instance, 
the  seventeenth  was  assumed  by  one  party  to  be  Lutheran, 
by  another  Calvinistic,  though  the  two  interpretations  were 
contradictory  to  each  other  ;    why  then  should  not  other 
Articles  be   drawn  up  with   a   vagueness   of   an  equally 
intense  character  ?     I  wanted  to  ascertain  what  was  the 
limit  of  that  elasticity  in  the  direction  of  Roman  dogma. 
But  next,  I  had  a  way  of  inquiry  of  my  own,  which  I  state 
without  defending.    I  instanced  it  afterwards  in  my  Essay 
on  Doctrinal  Development.    That  work,  I  believe,  I  have  10 
not  read  since   I  published   it,  and  I   doubt   not   at  all 
[that]  I  have  made  many  mistakes  in  it  ; — partly,  from 
my  ignorance  of   the  details  of  doctrine,  as  the  Church 
of  Rome  holds  them,  but  partly  from  my  impatience  to 
clear  as  large  a  range  for  the  principle  of  doctrinal  Develop 
ment  (waiving  the  question  of  historical  fact)  as  was  con 
sistent  with  the  strict  Apostolicity  and  identity  of  the 
Catholic  Creed.    In  like  manner,  as  regards  the  39  Articles, 
my  method  of  inquiry  was  to  leap  in  medias  res.    I  wished 
to  institute  an  inquiry  how  far,  in  critical  fairness,  the  text  20 
could  be  opened  ;    I  was  aiming  far  more  at  ascertaining 
what  a  man  who  subscribed  it  might  hold  than  what  he 
must,  so  that  my  conclusions  were  negative  rather  than 
positive.    It  was  but  a  first  essay.    And  I  made  it  with  the 
full  recognition  and  consciousness,  which  I  had  already 
expressed  in  my  Prophetical  Office,  as  regards  the   Via 
Media,  that  I  was  making  only  "  a  first  approximation^  to 
a  required  solution  ;  "•  -"  a  series  of  illustrations  supplying 
hints  in  the  removal "  of  a  difficulty,  and  with  full  acknow 
ledgment  "  that  in  minor  points,  whether  in  question  of  so 
fact  or  of  judgment,  there  was  room  for  difference  or  error 
of  opinion,"  and  that  I  "  should  not  be  ashamed  to  own 
a  mistake,  if  it  were  proved  against  me,  nor  reluctant  to 
bear  the  just  blame  of  it."— (Proph.  Off.)  P.  31. 

In  addition,  I  was  embarrassed  in  consequence  of  my 

wish  to  go  as  far  as  was  possible,  in  interpreting  the  Articles 

in  the  direction  of  Roman  dogma,  without  disclosing  what 

I  was  doing  to  the  parties  whose  doubts  I  was  meeting, 

who(,  if  they  understood  at  once   the  full  extent  of  the 

4  to]  of         11  doubt  not]  do  not  doubt         28  a  required]  the  required 

29  in]  for  35  In  addition]  I  will  add 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  179 

licence  which  the  Articles  admitted,)  might  be  thereby 
encouraged  to  go  still  further  than  at  present  they  found 
in  themselves  any  call  to  do. 

1.  But  in  the  way  of  such  an  attempt  comes  the  prompt 
objection  that  the  Articles  were  actually  drawn  up  against 
"  Popery,"  and  therefore  it  was  transcendently  absurd  and 
dishonest  to  suppose  that  Popery,  in  any  shape, — patristic 
belief,  Tri dentine  dogma,  or  popular  corruption  authori 
tatively  sanctioned, — would  be  able  to  take  refuge  under 

10  their  text.  This  premiss  I  denied.  Not  any  religious 
doctrine  at  all,  but  a  political  principle,  was  the  primary 
English  idea  [at  that  time]  of  "  Popery  "  (at  the  date  of 
the  Reformation).  And  what  was  that  political  principle, 
and  how  could  it  best  be  kept  out  of  England  ?  What  was 
the  great  question  in  the  days  of  Henry  and  Elizabeth  ? 
The  Supremacy ; — now,  was  I  saying  one  single  word  in 
favour  of  the  Supremacy  of  the  Holy  See,  (in  favour)  of 
the  foreign  jurisdiction  ?  No  ;  I  did  not  believe  in  it 
myself.  Did  Henry  VIII.  religiously  hold  Justification  by 

20  faith  only  ?  did  he  disbelieve  purgatory  ?  Was  Elizabeth 
zealous  for  the  marriage  of  the  "Clergy  ?  or  had  she  a  con 
science  against  the  Mass  ?  The  Supremacy  of  the  Pope 
was  the  essence  of  the  "  Popery  "  to  which,  at  the  time  of 
the  (composition  of  the)  Articles,  the  Supreme  Head  or 
Governor  of  the  English  Church  was  so  violently  hostile. 

2.  But  again  I  said  this  ; — let  "  Popery  "  mean  what  it 
would  in  the  mouths  of  the  compilers  of  the  Articles,  let 
it  even,  for  argument's  sake,  include  the  doctrines  of  that 
Tridentine  Council,   which  was  not   yet   over  when   the 

so  Articles  were  drawn  up,  and  against  which  they  could  not 
be  simply  directed,  yet,  consider,  what  was  the  [religious] 
object  of  the  Government  in  their  imposition  ?  merely  to 
disown  "  Popery  "  ?  No  ;  it  had  the  further  object  of 
gaining  the  "  Papists."  What  then  was  the  best  way  to 
induce  reluctant  or  wavering  minds,  and  these,  I  supposed, 
were  the  majority,  to  give  in  their  adhesion  to  the  new 
symbol  ?  how  had  the  Arians  drawn  up  their  Creeds  ?  was 
it  not  on  the  principle  of  using  vague  ambiguous  language, 
which  to  the  subscribers  would  seem  to  bear  a  Catholic 

2  go]  proceed  3  do]  go  14  kept  out  of]  suppressed  in 

33  disown]  get  rid  of 


180  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

sense,  but  which,  when  worked  out  in  the  long  run,  would 
prove  to  be  heterodox  ?  Accordingly,  there  was  great 
antecedent  probability,  that,  fierce  as  the  Articles  might 
look  at  first  sight,  their  bark  would  prove  worse  than  their 
bite.  I  say  antecedent  probability,  for  to  what  extent  that 
surmise  might  be  true,  could  only  be  ascertained  by 
investigation. 

3.  But  a  consideration  came  up  at  once,  which  threw 
light  on  this  surmise  : — what  if  it  should  turn  out  that  the 
very  men  who  drew  up  the  Articles,  in  the  very  act  of  10 
doing  so,  had  avowed,  or  rather  in  one  of  those  very 
Articles  themselves  had  imposed  on  subscribers,  a  number 
of  those  very  "  Papistical  "  doctrines,  which  they  were 
now  thought  to  deny,  as  part  and  parcel  of  that  very 
Protestantism,  which  they  were  now  thought  to  consider 
divine  ?  and  this  was  the  fact,  and  I  showed  it  in  my 
Essay. 

Let  the  reader  observe  : — the  35th  Article  says  :  "  The 
second  Book  of  Homilies  doth  contain  a  godly  and  whole 
some  doctrine,  and  necessary  for  these  times,  as  doth  the  20 
former  Book  of  Homilies."  Here  the  doctrine  of  the 
Homilies  is  recognized  as  godly  and  wholesome,  and  sub 
scription  to  that  proposition  is  imposed  on  all  subscribers 
of  the  Articles.  Let  us  then  turn  to  the  Homilies,  and  see 
what  this  godly  doctrine  is  :  I  quoted  from  them  to  the 
following  effect  : 

1.  They  declare  that  the  so-called  "  apocryphal  "  book 
of  Tobit  is  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  is  Scripture. 

2.  That  the  so-called  "  apocryphal "  book  of  Wisdom  is 
Scripture,  and  the  infallible  and  undeceivable  word  of  God.  so 

3.  That  the   Primitive  Church,  next  to  the  Apostles5 
time,  and,  as  they  imply,  for  almost  700  years,  is  no  doubt 
most  pure. 

4.  That  the  Primitive  Church  is  specially  to  be  followed. 

5.  That  the  Four  first  General  Councils  belong  to  the 
Primitive  Church. 

6.  That  there  are  Six  Councils  which  are  allowed  and 
received  by  all  men. 

1  in]  on 

22  subscription  to  that  proposition]  concurrence  in  that  recognition 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  181 

7.  Again,   they  speak   of   a  certain  truth  which  they 
are  enforcing,  as  declared  by  God's  word,  the  sentences 
of  the  ancient   doctors,  and  judgment  of  the  Primitive 
Church. 

8.  Of  the  learned  and  holy  Bishops  and  doctors  (of  the 
Church)  of  the  first  eight  centuries  being  of  good  authority 
and  credit  with  the  people. 

9.  Of  the  declaration  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  Holy  Fathers. 

10  10.  Of  the  authority  of  both  Scripture  and  also  of 
Augustine. 

11.  Of  Augustine,  Chrysostom,  Ambrose,  Jerome,  and 
about  thirty  other  Fathers,  to  some  of  whom  they  give 
the  title  of   "Saint,"  to  others  of  ("  )ancient  Catholic 
Fathers  and  doctors(,  &c."). 

12.  They  declare  that,  not  only  the  holy  Apostles  and 
disciples  of  Christ,  but  the  godly  Fathers  also  before  and 
since  Christ  were  endued  without  doubt  with  the  Holy 
Ghost. 

20  13.  That  the  ancient  Catholic  Fathers  say  that  the 
"  Lord's  Supper  "  is  the  salve  of  immortality,  the  sovereign 
preservative  against  death,  the  food  of  immortality,  the 
healthful  grace. 

14.  That  the  Lord's  Blessed  Body  and  Blood  are  received 
under  the  form  of  bread  and  wine. 

15.  That  the  meat  in  the  Sacrament  is  an  invisible  meat 
and  a  ghostly  substance. 

16.  That  the  holy  Body  and  Blood  (of  thy  God)  ought 
to  be  touched  with  the  mind. 

so      17.  That  Ordination  is  a  Sacrament. 

18.  That  Matrimony  is  a  Sacrament. 

19.  That  there  are  other  Sacraments  besides  "  Baptism 
and  the  Lord's  Supper  %  though  not  "  such  as  "  they). 

20.  That  the  souls  of  the  Saints  are  reigning  in  joy  and 
in  heaven  with  God. 

21.  That  alms-deeds  purge  the  soul  from  the  infection 
and  filthy  spots  of  sin,  and  are  a  precious  medicine,  an 
inestimable  jewel. 

22.  That    mercifulness   wipes   out   and   washes   away 

6  good]  great  10  of  both]  both  of 


182  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

infirmity  and  weakness  as  salves  and  remedies  to  heal 
sores  and  grievous  diseases. 

23.  That  the  duty  of  fasting  is  a  truth  more  manifest 
than  it  should  need  to  be  proved. 

24.  That  fasting,  used  with  prayer,  is  of  great  efficacy 
and  weigheth  much  with  God ;  so  the  Angel  Raphael  told 
Tobias. 

25.  That  the  puissant  and  mighty  Emperor  Theodosius 
was,  in  the  Primitive  Church  which  was  most  holy  and 
godly,  excommunicated  by  St.  Ambrose.  10 

26.  That  Constantine,  Bishop  of  Rome,  did  condemn 
Philippicus,  the  Emperor,  not  without  a  cause  indeed,  but 
most  justly. 

Putting  altogether  aside  the  question  .  how  far  these 
separate  theses  came  under  the  matter  to  which  subscrip 
tion  was  to  be  made,  it  was  quite  plain,  that  (in  the  minds 
of)  the  men  who  wrote  the  Homilies,  and  who  thus 
incorporated  them  into  the  Anglican  system  of  doctrine, 
could  not  have  possessed  that  exact  discrimination  between 
the  Catholic  and  (the)  Protestant  faith,  or  have  made  that  20 
clear  recognition  of  formal  Protestant  principles  and  tenets, 
or  have  accepted  that  definition  of  "  Roman  doctrine," 
which  is  received  at  this  day  : — hence  great  probability 
accrued  to  my  presentiment,  that  the  Articles  were  tolerant, 
not  only  of  what  I  called  "  Catholic  teaching,"  but  of 
much  that  was  "  Roman." 

4.  And  here  was  another  reason  against  the  notion  that 
the    Articles    directly    attacked   the    Roman    dogmas    as 
declared  at  Trent  and  as  promulgated  by  Pius  the  Fourth  : 
—the  Council  of  Trent  was  not  over,  nor  its  Decrees  pro-  so 
mulgated  at  the  date  when  the  Articles  were  drawn  up(3}, 

Footnote  first  inserted  in  1865.  <3  The  Pope's  Confirmation  of  the 
Council,  by  which  its  Canons  became  defide,  and  his  Bull  super  confirma- 
tione  by  which  they  were  promulgated  to  the  world,  are  dated  January  26, 
1564.  The  Articles  are  dated  1562.) 

1  infirmity  and  weakness]  sins, 

12  the]  then  13  most]  very 

19  could  not  have  possessed  that  exact]  there  was  no  such  nice 

20  or  have  made  that]  no  such 

22  or  have  accepted  that]  no  such  accurate 

23  which  .  .  .  this]  as  ...  the  present  30  Decrees]  Canons 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  183 

so  that  those  Articles  must  be  aiming  at  something  else. 
What  was  that  something  else  ?  The  Homilies  tell  us  : 
the  Homilies  are  the  best  comment  upon  the  Articles.  Let 
us  turn  to  the  Homilies,  and  we  shall  find  from  first  to 
last  that,  not  only  is  not  the  Catholic  teaching  of  the  first 
centuries,  but  neither  again  are  the  dogmas  of  Rome,  the 
objects  of  the  protest  of  the  compilers  of  the  Articles,  but 
the  dominant  errors,  the  popular  corruptions,  authorized 
or  suffered  by  the  high  name  of  Rome.  (The  eloquent 
10  declamation  of  the  Homilies  finds  its  matter  almost  ex 
clusively  in  the  dominant  errors.)  As  to  Catholic  teaching, 
nay  as  to  Roman  dogma,  (of  such  theology)  those  Homilies, 
as  I  have  shown,  contained  no  small  portion  [of  it]  them 
selves. 

5.  So  much  for  the  writers  of  the  Articles  and  Homilies  ; 
— they  were  witnesses,  not  authorities,  and  I  used  them  as 
such  ;   but  in  the  next  place,  who  were  the  actual  authori 
ties    imposing    them  ?      I    (reasonably)    considered    the 
(authority)  imponens  to  be  the  Convocation  of  1571  ;   but 

20  here  again,  it  would  be  found  that  the  very  Convocation, 
which  received  and  confirmed  the  39  Articles,  also  enjoined 
by  Canon  that  "  preachers  should  be  careful,  that  they 
should  never  teach  aught  in  a  sermon,  to  be  religiously 
held  and  believed  by  the  people,  except  that  which  is 
agreeable  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
and  which  the  Catholic  Fathers  and  ancient  Bishops  have 
collected  from  that  very  doctrine."  Here,  let  it  be  observed, 
an  appeal  is  made  by  the  Convocation  imponens  to  the 
very  same  ancient  authorities,  as  had  been  mentioned  with 

so  such  profound  veneration  by  the  writers  of  the  Homilies 
and  [of]  the  Articles,  and  thus,  if  the  Homilies  contained 
views  of  doctrine  which  now  would  be  called  Roman,  there 
seemed  to  me  to  be  an  extreme  probability  that  the  Con 
vocation  of  1571  also  countenanced  and  received,  or  at 
least  did  not  reject,  those  doctrines. 

6.  And  further,  when  at  length  I  came  actually  to  look 
into  the  text  of  the  Articles,  I  saw  in  many  cases  a  patent 
fulfilment  of  all  that  I  had  surmised  as  to  their  vagueness 
and  indecisiveness,  and  that,  not  only  on  questions  which 

1  else.]  else  ?  38  fulfilment]  justification 


184  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

lay  between  Lutherans,  Calvinists,  and  Zuinglians,  but  on 
Catholic  questions  also  ;  and  I  have  noticed  them  in  my 
Tract.  In  the  conclusion  of  my  Tract  I  observe  :  They 
are  "  evidently  framed  on  the  principle  of  leaving  open 
large  questions  on  which  the  controversy  hinges.  They 
state  broadly  extreme  truths,  and  are  silent  about  their 
adjustment.  For  instance,  they  say  that  all  necessary 
faith  must  be  proved  from  Scripture  ;  but  do  not  say  who 
is  to  prove  it.  They  say,  that  the  Church  has  authority 
in  controversies  ;  they  do  not  say  what  authority.  They  10 
say  that  it  may  enforce  nothing  beyond  Scripture,  but  do 
not  say  where  the  remedy  lies  when  it  does.  They  say 
that  works  before  grace  and  justification  are  worthless  and 
worse,  and  that  works  after  grace  and  justification  are 
acceptable,  but  they  do  not  speak  at  all  of  works  with 
God's  aid  before  justification.  They  say  that  men  are 
lawfully  called  and  sent  to  minister  and  preach,  who  are 
chosen  and  called  by  men  who  have  public  authority  given 
them  in  the  Congregation  ;  but  they  do  not  add  by  whom 
the  authority  is  to  be  given.  They  say  that  Councils  called  20 
by  princes  may  err  ;  they  do  not  determine  whether  Councils 
called  in  the  name  of  Christ  may  err." 

Such  were  the  considerations  which  weighed  with  me  in 
my  inquiry  how  far  the  Articles  were  tolerant  of  a  Catholic, 
or  even  a  Roman  interpretation  ;  and  such  was  the  defence 
which  I  made  in  my  Tract  for  having  attempted  it.  From 
what  I  have  already  said,  it  will  appear  that  I  have  no 
need  or  intention  at  this  day  to  maintain  every  particular 
interpretation  which  I  suggested  in  the  course  of  my  Tract, 
nor  indeed  had  I  then.  Whether  it  was  prudent  or  not,  30 
whether  it  was  sensible  or  not,  any  how  I  attempted  only 
a  first  essay  of  a  necessary  work,  an  essay  which,  as  I  was 
quite  prepared  to  find,  would  require  revision  and  modifica 
tion  by  means  of  the  lights  which  I  should  gain  from  the 
criticism  of  others.  I  should  have  gladly  withdrawn  any 
statement,  which  could  be  proved  to  me  to  be  erroneous  ; 
I  considered  my  work  to  be  faulty  and  objectionable  in  the 
same  sense  in  which  I  now  consider  my  Anglican  inter 
pretations  of  Scripture  to  be  erroneous,  but  in  no  other 

3  They]  The  Articles  37  objectionable]  open  to  objection 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  185 

sense.  I  am  surprised  that  men  do  not  apply  to  the  inter 
preters  of  Scripture  generally  the  hard  names  which  they 
apply  to  the  author  of  Tract  90.  He  held  a  large  system  of 
theology,  and  applied  it  to  the  Articles  :  Episcopalians,  or 
Lutherans,  or  Presbyterians,  or  Unitarians,  hold  a  large 
system  of  theology  and  apply  it  to  Scripture.  Every 
theology  has  its  difficulties  ;  Protestants  hold  justification 
by  faith  only,  though  there  is  no  text  in  St.  Paul  which 
enunciates  it,  and  though  St.  James  expressly  denies  it ; 

10  do  we  therefore  call  Protestants  dishonest  ?  *  they  deny 
that  the  Church  has  a  divine  mission,  though  St.  Paul  says 
that  it  is  "  the  Pillar  and  ground  of  Truth  ;  "  they  keep 
the  Sabbath,  though  St.  Paul  says,  "  Let  no  man  judge 
you  in  meat  or  drink  or  in  respect  of  ...  the  sabbath 
days."  Every  creed  has  texts  in  its  favour,  and  again 
texts  which  run  counter  to  it :  and  this  is  generally  con 
fessed.  And  this  is  what  I  felt  keenly  : — how  had  I  done 
worse  in  Tract  90  than  Anglicans,  Wesleyans,  and  Calvinists 
did  daily  in  their  Sermons  and  their  publications  ?  how 

20  had  I  done  worse,  than  the  Evangelical  party  in  their 
ex  animo  reception  of  the  Services  for  Baptism  and  Visita 
tion  of  the  Sick  *  ?  Why  was  I  to  be  dishonest  and  they 
immaculate  ?  There  was  an  occasion  on  which  our  Lord 
gave  an  answer,  which  seemed  to  be  appropriate  to  my 
own  case,  when  the  tumult  broke  out  against  my  Tract  : — 

1  {*)  For  instance,  let  candid  men  consider  the  form  of  Absolution 
contained  in  that  Prayer  Book,  of  which  all  clergymen,  Evangelical 
and  Liberal  as  well  as  high  Church,  and(I  think) all  persons  in  University 
office  declare  that  "  it  containeth  nothing  contrary  to  the  Word  of  God." 

I  challenge,  in  the  sight  of  all  England,  Evangelical  clergymen 
generally,  to  put  on  paper  an  interpretation  of  this  form  of  words, 
consistent  with  their  sentiments,  which  shall  be  less  forced  than  the  most 
objectionable  of  the  interpretations  which  Tract  90  puts  upon  any 
passage  in  the  Articles. 

"  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath  left  power  to  His  Church  to  absolve 
all  sinners  who  truly  repent  and  believe  in  Him,  of  His  great  mercy 
forgive  thee  thine  offences  ;  and  by  His  authority  committed  to  me, 
1  absolve  thee  from  all  thy  sins,  in  the  Name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the 
Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Amen." 

I  subjoin  the  Roman  form,  as  used    in  England  and  elsewhere 
"  Dominus  noster  Jesus  Christus  te  absolvat ;   et  ego  auctoritate  ipsius 
te  absolvo,  ab  omni  vinculo  excommunicationis  et  interdict!,  in  quantum 
possum  et  tu  indigos.    Deinde  ego  te  absolvo  a  peccatis  tuis,  in  nomine 
Patris  et  Filii  et  Spiritus  Sancti.     Amen." 


186  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

"  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast 
a  stone  at  him."  I  could  have  fancied  that  a  sense  of  their 
own  difficulties  of  interpretation  would  have  persuaded  the 
great  party  I  have  mentioned  to  some  prudence,  or  at 
least  moderation,  in  opposing  a  teacher  of  an  opposite 
school.  But  I  suppose  their  alarm  and  their  anger  over 
came  their  sense  of  justice. 

In  the  universal  storm  of  indignation  with  which  the 
Tract  was  received  (throughout  the  country)  on  its  appear 
ance,  I  recognize  much  of  real  religious  feeling,  much  of  10 
honest  and  true  principle,  much  of  straightforward  ignorant 
common  sense.  In  Oxford  there  was  genuine  feeling  too  ; 
but  there  had  been  a  smouldering  stern  energetic  animosity, 
not  at  all  unnatural,  partly  rational,  against  its  author. 
A  false  step  had  been  made  ;  now  was  the  time  for  action. 
I  am  told  that,  even  before  the  publication  of  the  Tract, 
rumours  of  its  contents  had  got  into  the  hostile  camp  in 
an  exaggerated  form  ;  and  not  a  moment  was  lost  in  pro 
ceeding  to  action,  when  I  was  actually  (fallen)  in(to)  the 
hands  of  the  Philistines.  I  was  quite  unprepared  for  the  20 
outbreak,  and  was  startled  at  its  violence.  I  do  not  think 
I  had  any  fear.  Nay,  I  will  add  I  am  not  sure  that  it  was 
not  in  one  point  of  view  a  relief  to  me. 

I  saw  indeed  clearly  that  my  place  in  the  Movement 
was  lost ;  public  confidence  was  at  an  end  ;  my  occupation 
was  gone.  It  was  simply  an  impossibility  that  I  could 
say  any  thing  henceforth  to  good  effect,  when  I  had  been 
posted  up  by  the  marshal  on  the  buttery  hatch  of  every 
College  of  my  University,  after  the  manner  of  discommoned 
pastry-cooks,  and  when  in  every  part  of  the  country  so 
and  every  class  of  society,  through  every  organ  and  occa 
sion  of  opinion,  in  newspapers,  in  periodicals,  at  meetings, 
in  pulpits,  at  dinner-tables,  in  coffee-rooms,  in  railway 
carriages,  I  was  denounced  as  a  traitor  who  had  laid  his 
train  and  was  detected  in  the  very  act  of  firing  it  against 
the  time-honoured  Establishment.  There  were  indeed 
men,  besides  my  own  (immediate)  friends,  men  of  name 
and  position,  who  gallantly  took  my  part,  as  Dr.  Hook, 
Mr.  Palmer,  and  Mr.  Perceval :  it  must  have  been  a  grievous 
8  universal]  sudden  31  occasion]  opportunity 


(FROM  1833  TO  1839.)  187 

trial  for  themselves  ;  yet  what  after  all  could  they  do  for 
me  ?  Confidence  in  me  was  lost ; — but  I  had  already  lost 
full  confidence  in  myself.  Thoughts  had  passed  over  me 
a  year  and  a  half  before  (in  respect  to  the  Anglican  claims), 
which  for  the  time  had  profoundly  troubled  me.  They  had 
gone  :  I  had  not  less  confidence  in  the  power  and  the 
prospects  of  the  Apostolical  movement  than  before  ;  not 
less  confidence  than  before  in  the  grievousness  of  what 
I  called  the  "  dominant  errors  "  of  Rome  :  but  how  was 
10  I  any  more  to  have  absolute  confidence  in  myself  ?  how 
was  I  to  have  confidence  in  my  present  confidence  ?  how 
was  I  to  be  sure  that  I  should  always  think  as  I  thought 
now  ?  I  felt  that  by  this  event  a  kind  Providence  had 
saved  me  from  an  impossible  position  in  the  future. 

First,  if  I  remember  right,  they  wished  me  to  withdraw 
the  Tract.  This  I  refused  to  do  :  I  would  not  do  so  for 
the  sake  of  those  who  were  unsettled  or  in  danger  of  un- 
settlement.  I  would  not  do  so  for  my  own  sake  ;  for  how 
could  I  acquiesce  in  a  mere  Protestant  interpretation  of  the 
20  Articles  ?  how  could  I  range  myself  among  the  professors 
of  a  theology,  of  which  it  put  my  teeth  on  edge,  even  to 
hear  the  sound  ? 

Next  they  said,  "  Keep  silence  ;  do  not  defend  the 
Tract ;  "  I  answered,  "  Yes,  if  you  will  not  condemn  it, — 
if  you  will  allow  it  to  continue  on  sale."  They  pressed  on 
me  whenever  I  gave  way  ;  they  fell  back  when  they  saw 
me  obstinate.  Their  line  of  action  was  to  get  out  of  me  as 
much  as  they  could ;  but  upon  the  point  of  their  tolerating 
the  Tract  I  was  obstinate.  So  they  let  me  continue  it  on 
so  sale  ;  and  they  said  they  would  not  condemn  it.  But  they 
said  that  this  was  on  condition  that  I  did  not  defend  it, 
that  I  stopped  the  series,  and  that  I  myself  published  my 
own  condemnation  in  a  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford. 
I  impute  nothing  whatever  to  him,  he  was  ever  most  kind 
to  me.  Also,  they  said  they  could  not  answer  for  what 
(some)  individual  Bishops  might  perhaps  say  about  the 
Tract  in  their  own  charges.  I  agreed  to  their  conditions. 
My  one  point  was  to  save  the  Tract. 

Not  a  scrap  of  writing  was  given  me,  as  a  pledge  of  the 
39  scrap  of]  line  in 


188  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

performance  of  (the  main  article  on)  their  side  of  the 
engagement.  Parts  of  letters  from  them  were  read  to  me, 
without  being  put  into  my  hands.  It  was  an  "under 
standing."  A  clever  man  had  warned  me  against  "under 
standings  "  some  six  years  before  :  I  have  hated  them 
ever  since. 

In  the  last  words  of  my  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford 
I  thus  resigned  my  place  in  the  Movement  : — 

"  I  have  nothing  to  be  sorry  for,"  I  say  to  him,  "  except 
having  made  your  Lordship  anxious,  and  others  whom  10 
I  am  bound  to  revere.  I  have  nothing  to  be  sorry  for.  but 
every  thing  to  rejoice  in  and  be  thankful  for.  I  have  never 
taken  pleasure  in  seeming  to  be  able  to  move  a  party,  and 
whatever  influence  I  have  had,  has  been  found,  not  sought 
after.  I  have  acted  because  others  did  not  act,  and  have 
sacrificed  a  quiet  which  I  prized.  May  God  be  with  me  in 
time  to  come,  as  He  has  been  hitherto  !  and  He  will  be, 
if  I  can  but  keep  my  hand  clean  and  my  heart  pure.  I  think 
I  can  bear,  or  at  least  will  try  to  bear,  any  personal  humilia 
tion,  so  that  I  am  preserved  from  betraying  sacred  interests,  20 
which  the  Lord  of  grace  and  power  has  given  into  my 
charge." 

1  performance]  observance 


PART   V. 

HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

[Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  May  19,  1864.  ] 


PART  V. 


HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS  (FROM  1839  TO  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  multi 
tude  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  per 
plexity  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  dark 
ness  it  emphatically  was  ?  And  who  can  (suddenly)  gird 
himself  [suddenly]  to  a  new  and  anxious  undertaking, 
20  which  he  might  be  able  indeed  to  perform  well,  had  he  full 
and  calm  leisure  (allowed  him)  to  look  through  every  thing 
that  he  has  written,  whether  in  published  works  or  private 
letters  ?  but,  on  the  other  hand,  as  to  that  calm  con 
templation  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 

Part  V]  Chapter  III  6  doing  so]  the  attempt 

16  though  it  would  be  most  unthankful  to  seem  to  imply  that  he  had 

not  all-sufficient  light]  in  spite  of  the  light  given  to  him  according  to 

his  need 
20  had  he]  were  22  has]  had 


192  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  analyze  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  con- 10 
troversial  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  20 
as  I  was  that  my  opinions  in  religion  were  not  gained,  as 
the  world  said,  from  Roman  sources,  but  were,  on  the  con 
trary,  the  birth  of  my  own  mind  and  of  the  circumstances 
in  which  I  had  been  placed,  I  had  a  scorn  of  the  imputa 
tions  which  were  heaped  upon  me.  It  was  true  that  I  held 
a  large  bold  system  of  religion,  very  unlike  the  Protestant 
ism  of  the  day,  but  it  was  the  concentration  and  adjust 
ment  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  (party  could  show),  so 
to  hold  their  own  respective  doctrines.  As  I  spoke  on 
occasion  of  Tract  90,  I  claimed,  in  behalf  of  who  would 
(in  the  Anglican  Church),  that  he  might  hold  in  the  Anglican 
Church  a  comprecation  with  the  Saints  [with  Bramhall], 
and  the  Mass  all  but  Transubstantiation  with  Andre wes^ or 
with  Hooker  that  Transubstantiation  itself  is  not  a  point 

29  do  so]  hold  it  31  to  hold]  for  asserting 

31  spoke]  declared 

33  that  he  might  hold  in  the  Anglican  Church]  the  right  of  holding 
with  Bramhall 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  193 

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  (had  in 
paradise  and)  lost  inward  grace  by  the  fall,  or  with  Thorn- 
dike  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  Pro 
testant  sentiments  appealed  to  the  Articles,  Homilies,  or 

10  Reformers  ;  in  the  sense  that,  if  they  had  a  right  to  speak 
loud,  I  had  [both]  the  liberty  (to  speak  out  as  well  as 
they,)  and  (had)  the  means(,  by  the  same  or  parallel 
appeals,)  of  giving  them  tit  for  tat.  I  thought  that  the 
Anglican  Church  had  been  tyrannized  over  by  a  (mere) 
party,  and  I  aimed  at  bringing  into  effect  the  promise  con 
tained  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 

20  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 

so  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  (that)  I  embodied  it  in[to]  my 
Article.  Every  one,  I  think,  will  recognize  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  exer 
tions.  One  writer  said  :  "  Opinions  and  views  of  a  theology 

4  inward  grace  by  the  fall]  on  the  fall,  a  supernatural  habit  of  grace 
14  had  been]  was 

APOLOGIA  |£ 


194  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  pro- 10 
duced  within  the  short  space  of  five  years,  I  should  sur 
prise  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  dis-  20 
tinctions  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  pro 
gress.  One  of  the  largest  churches  in  Brighton  is  crowded  so 
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  Com 
mons."  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  40 
for  primitive  models,  the  foundations  of  the  Protestant 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  195 

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  sympathize  in  it,  the 
Article  proceeds  to  account  for  it ;  and  this  it  does  by 
considering  it  as  a  re-action  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 

10  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  else 
where,  may  be  considered  to  have  led  to  his  popularity  ; 
and  by  means  of  his  popularity  he  re-acted  on  his  readers, 

20  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 

so  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 

40  carried  forward  their  readers  in  the  same  direction." 

15  to] in 


196  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

Then  comes  the  prediction  of  this  re-action  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  excel 
lence  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  10 
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."  20 

These  being  the  circumstances  under  which  the  Move 
ment  began  and  progressed,  it  was  absurd  to  refer  it  to  the 
act  of  two  or  three  individuals.  It  was  not  so  much  a  move 
ment  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  adver 
sary  in  the  air,  a  something  one  and  entire,  a  whole  wherever 
it  is,  unapproachable  and  incapable  of  being  grasped,  as  so 
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 

5  writing]  Article  20  had]  has  37  tory]  Tory 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  197 

of  Germany,  and  the  study  of  Arabic  MSS.  ;  Mr.  Dods- 
worth  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 

10  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 

20  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  way 
ward.  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, 

so  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 

40  I  have  a  very  strong  conviction  that  they  furnished  quite 
40  they]  those  extravagances 


198  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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.  10 

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 
fed  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  ivhom  we  should  seek  20 
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."  so 

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  intp  the  world,  I  quoted  in  the  Article, 
of  which  I  am  giving  an  account,  and  I  added,  "  What 
more  can  be  -equired  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  40 
of  those  who  dishonoured  a  true  doctrine,  provided  they 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  199 

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 
10  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  harmonizing  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 

20  higher  in  prospect.  On  this,  as  on  other  subjects,  the  pro 
verb  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, 

so  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  Apostolical 
principles,  the  Anglican  Church  would,  in  the  event,  cease 
to  exist.] 

(Then  I  went  on  :}    "  As  to  Liberalism,  we  think  the 

II  it]  that  doctrine       13  implied]  to  be  understood       15  young]  new 

29  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


200  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  organization  ;  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  10 
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  Rational 
ism.  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,  20 
but  for  elementary  notions  and  distinctive  moral  characters." 
Whether  the  ideas  of  the  coming  age  upon  religion  were 
true  or  false,  (at  least)  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  so 
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  Charyb-  40 
dis  of  Aye  and  No." 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  201 

This  state  of  things,  however,  I  said,  could  not  last,  if 
men  were  to  read  and  think.  They  "  will  not  keep  [stand 
ing]  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  (grazing)  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  ; 

10  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  ? 

20  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, 

so  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, 1  must  detain  the  reader  for  a  while, 
in  order  to  describe  the  issue  of  the  controversy  between 

40  Rome  and  the  Anglican  Church,  as  I  viewed  it.  This  will 
involve  some  dry  discussion  ;  but  it  is  as  necessary  for  my 


202  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  Move 
ment  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  10 
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  20 
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  com 
munion  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  so 
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 

24  matter,  not  of  convictions,  but  of  proofs]  matter  which  bore,  not 
on  convictions,  but  on  proofs 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  203 

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 

LO  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  charac 
teristics,  its  controversial  rancour,  and  its  private  judg 
ment.  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 

:o  lay  between  the  book-theology  of  Anglicanism  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  living  system  of  what  I  called  Roman  cor 
ruption  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  dis 
putant  took  his  stand  upon  Antiquity  or  Apostolicity,  the 
Roman  upon  Catholicity.  The  Anglican  said  to  the 

9  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  prin 
ciples,  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 
i  and  Apostolic  ;  now,  as  I  viewed  the  controversy  in  which 
I  was  engaged,  England  and  Rome  had  divided  these  notes 


204  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

or  prerogatives  between  them  :  the  cause  lay  thus,  Aposto- 
licity  versus  Catholicity. 

However,  in  thus  stating  the  matter,  of  course  I  do  riot 
wish  it  supposed,  that  I  considered  the  note  of  Catholicity 
really  to  belong  to  Rome,  to  the  disparagement  of  the 
Anglican  Church  ;  but  (I  considered)  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,  becom- 10 
ing,  expedient,  that  the  whole  of  Christendom  should  be 
united  in  one  visible  body  ;  while  such  a  unity  might  be, 
on  the  other  hand,  (nothing  more  than)  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  20 
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  ecclesias 
tical  order  and  expedience,  arrangements  had  been  made 
by  which  one  was  put  over  or  under  another.  So  much  30 
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  in 
tolerable  offence  of  having  added  to  the  Faith.  This  was 
the  critical  head  of  accusation  urged  against  her  by  the 

4  considered]  allowed 

12-13  he,  on  the  other  hand,]  ,on  the  other  hand,  he 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  205 

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(,  in  spite  of  their  possession  of 
the  Catholic  name,)  were  separated  in  their  creed  from  the 
Apostolical  and  primitive  faith. 

Of  course  those  controversialists  had  their  own  answer 

10  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 

20 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  advan- 

*o  tage  :  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 

9  answer  to]  mode  of  answering 


206  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  10 
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  (July) 
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  20 
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  con 
sideration,  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  so 
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 

10  their  real  weight  duly  acknowledged]  any  success  with  the  persons 
in  question 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  207 

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 

10  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  pas 
sage  from  St.  Augustine  in  controversy  with  the  Donatists 
to  the  same  effect ;  viz.  that,  as  being  separated  from  the 

20  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  com 
munion  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, 

30  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  degrada 
tion  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, 

30  are  to]  must 


208  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

and  excommunicates  us,  if  we  do  not  receive  it  and  all 
other  decisions  of  the  Tri dentine  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  10 
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  20 
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 
history  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  so 
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 
in  her  embrace,  but  as  being  sole  and  unapproachable,  as 

6,  7  These  are  the  Author's  [     ]  23  together]  in  connexion 

36  the  Roman]  in  the  theology  of  Rome 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  209 

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 

10  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,  recognizes  them,  and  England, 
not  deferring  to  the  large  body  of  the  Church,  recognizes 
it,  both  Rome  and  England  have  a  point  to  clear  up." 
And  still  more  strongly(,)  in  July,  1841  : 

20  "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  pro- 

30  vidential  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  analyzed  above.  But  this 

37  observe]  advanced 


210  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  ((1836-7))  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  excite 
ment  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  anticipat- 10 
ing  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  Com 
memoration  ;  and  Dr.  Pusey  and  myself  had  attracted 
attention,  more,  I  think,  than  (in)  any  former  year.  I  had 
put  away  from  me  the  controversy  with  Rome  for  more  20 
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  doc 
trinal  question.  This  was  from  about  June  13th  to  August  so 
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,  howremarkable  the  his 
tory  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, 

18  Dr.  Pusey  and  myself]  Dr.  Pusey'a  party        22  never]  at  no  time 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  211 

Christendom  of  the  sixteenth  and  the  nineteenth  centuries 
reflected.  I  saw  my  face  in  that  mirror,  and  I  was  a  Mono- 
physite.  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 

10  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 

20  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. 

so  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  com 
prehensions,  trying  to  put  the  invisible  out  of  view,  and 
substituting  expediency  for  faith.  What  was  the  use  of 

40  continuing  the  controversy,  or  defending  my  position,  if, 
after  all,  I  was  forging  arguments  for  Arius  or  Eutyches, 


212  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  10 
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  20 
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  Mono- 
physites.  But  my  friend,  an  anxiously  religious  man,  now,  so 
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  terra- 
rum."  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, 

17  Bishop]  Dr.       21  I  have  instanced  above]  has  appeared  already 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  213 

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 

10  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 

20  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,  (interpreting 
and  summing  up  the  long  and  varied  course  of  ecclesiastical 
history,)  the  theory  of  the  Via  Media  was  absolutely 
pulverized. 

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 

30  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 

4o  closed  again.  The  thought  for  the  moment  had  been, 
"  The  Church  of  Rome  will  be  found  right  after  all ;  " 


214  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  : — 

"  0  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,  10 
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  20 
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  con 
clusions,  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  so 
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  memoran 
dum  under  the  date  of  September  7,  1829,  in  which  I  speak  40 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  215 

of  myself,  as  "  now  in  my  rooms  in  Oriel  College,  slowly 
advancing  &c.  and  led  on  by  God's  hand  blindly,  not  know 
ing  whither  He  is  taking  me."  But,  whatever  this  pre 
sentiment  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  deter 
mined  to  be  guided,  not  by  my  imagination,  but  by  my 

10  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  considera 
tion  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 

20  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  (and  greater  cogency  and 
consistency  of  proof).  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  (already)  to  a  certain 
point  a  logical  force.    Down  had  come  the  Via  Media  as 

so  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 

33  more]  longer 


216  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

Anglican  Church.  The  Apostolical  Succession,  the  two 
prominent  sacraments,  and  the  primitive  Creeds,  belonged, 
indeed,  to  the  latter,  but  there  had  beeli  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  "  Christ! 
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  20 
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  realize, — high-mindedness,  majesty,  and  the  calm 

23  For  the  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  216-219,  the  following  was  substituted 
in  1865:  it;  yet  by  1838  I  had  got  no  further  than  to  consider 
Antichrist,  as  not  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  the  spirit  of  the  old  pagan 
city,  the  fourth  monster  of  Daniel,  which  was  still  alive,  and  which 
had  corrupted  the  Church  which  was  planted  there.  Soon  after  this 
indeed,  and  before  my  attention  was  directed  to  the  Monophysite  con 
troversy,  I  underwent  a  great  change  of  opinion.  I  saw  that,  from 
the  nature  of  the  case,  the  true  Vicar  of  Christ  must  ever  to  the  world 
seem  like  Antichrist,  and  be  stigmatized  as  such,  because  a  resemblance 
must  ever  exist  between  an  original  and  a  forgery ;  and  thus  the  fact  of 
such  a  calumny  was  almost  one  of  the  notes  of  the  Church.  But  we 
cannot  unmake  ourselves  or  change  our  habits  in  a  moment.  Though 
my  reason  was  convinced,  I  did  not  throw  off,  for  some  time  after, — 
(Then,  in  1865,  followed  the  matter  after  the  square  bracket  on  p.  219, 
line  2,  "  I  could  not  have  thrown  off, — "  etc.) 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  217 

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 

10  Prince  of  the  kingdom  of  Persia.  Old  Rome  is  still  alive. 
The  Sorceress  upon  the  Seven  Hills,  in  the  book  of  Revela 
tion,  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  tribula 
tions.  When  these  are  past,  the  City  upon  the  Seven  Hills 

20  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 

so  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,  intellec 
tual  basis,  the  Roman  Church  from  the  designation  of  Anti 
christ  ;  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 

9  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


218  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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 
iti  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  10 
dealings  with  His  rebellious  creatures,  except  that  a  Chris 
tian  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  cor 
rupted  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  20 
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  stigmatized  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  30 
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  40 
clear,  that,  if  I  dared  not  commit  myself  in  1838,  to  the 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  219 

belief  that  the  Church  of  Rome  was  not  a  type  of  Anti 
christ,]  I  could  not  have  thrown  o£f(, — )  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  any  thing  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. 

10  To  the  inconsistencies  then,  to  the  ambition  and  intrigue, 
to  the  sophistries  [of  Rome]  (as  I  considered  them  to  be) 
I  (now)  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(ing)  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 

20  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 

so  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 

4  the]  this  10  (twice),  11  the]  her  three  times 


220  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  her 
self  (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  (to  be)  good  against  her  was  the  moral  ground  : 
I  felt  I  could  not  be  wrong  in  striking  at  her  political  and  10 
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  "  Pre 
servative  against  Popery,"  than  the  three  volumes  of  folio, 
in  which,  I  think,  that  prophylactic  is  to  be  found.    How 
ever,  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  20 
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  so 
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 

6  wished]  began  to  wish         13  it]  Rome         14  of  folio]  in  folio 
19  twice  letter]  Letter  37  close  at]  ready  to  my 

37  most  sensibly  too,  because  it  was  before  my  eyes]  the  more 
sensibly  for  the  reason  that  it  lay  at  our  very  doors 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  221 

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 

10  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 

20  annoyed  with  the  political  action  of  the  members  of  the 
Roman  Church  in  England  to  wish  to  have  any  thing  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  (laugh)  ;  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  apologize,  but 

so  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 

9  fulfilled  the  bad  points]  justified  the  serious  charges 
17  then],  at  that  time  18  it]  their  desirableness 

20  members  of  the  Roman  Church  in  England]  Catholic  body  in  these 
islands 

23  rooms,  whither]  rooms  with  34  bosoms  !]  bosoms  .... 


222  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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 
re-unite,  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  10 
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  20 
against  us.  ...  You  consent  to  act  hand  in  hand  [with  these 
and  others]  for  our  overthrow.  Alas  !  all  this  it  is  that  im 
presses  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  Com-  so 
munion,  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  instru- 

21,  22  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 

37  connected  it  with]  viewed  what  happened  to  myself  in  the  light  of 

38  usual]  traditionary 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  223 

ments.  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 

10  a  Catholic,  people  have  sometimes  accused  me  of  back 
wardness  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 

20  among  us  by  unreal  representations  of  its  doctrines, 
plausible  statements,  bold  assertions,  appeals  to  the  weak 
nesses  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  gipseys  make  up  to  truant  boys,  holding  out 
tales  for  the  nursery,  and  pretty  pictures,  and  gilt  ginger 
bread,  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 

so  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 

1  upon]  in  the  case  of  2-3  on  any]  of  any 

25  gipseys]  gipsies  34  may]  may 


224  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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,  what 
ever  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  10 
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  20 
myself,  when,  as  in  this  passage,  I  had  already  spoken  in 
condemnation  of  that  class  of  controversialists  (of  that 
religious  body),  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  1  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  so 
been  in  my  absence,  occurrences  of  an  awkward  character, 
bringing  me  into  collision  both  with  my  Bishop  and  also 
with  the  (authorities  of  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  analyzed  above,  I  had  spoken 
of  the  excesses  which  were  to  be  found  among  persons 

22  condemnation  of  that  class  of]  disparagement  of  the 

24  could]  can  32  bringing  me  into  collision]  compromising  me 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  225 

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 

10  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  any  thing  about  my  actual, 
positive,  present  belief,  which  would  be  sustaining  or  con 
soling  to  such  persons  as  were  haunted  already  by  doubts 
of  their  own  ?  Nay,  how  could  I,  with  satisfaction  to 
myself,  analyze  my  own  mind,  and  say  what  I  held  and 
what  I  did  not  (hold)  ?  or  (how  could  I)  say  with  what 

20  limitations,  shades  of  difference,  or  degrees  of  belief,  I  (still) 
held  that  body  of  (Anglican)  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 

so  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  (as)  yet,  even 
that  we  had  not  the  Note  of  Catholicity  ;  but,  if  not  (this), 

2  thoughts]  views  23  view]  light 

APOLOGIA  T 


226  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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 
short-comings.  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  10 
say  to  such  as  yourself,  it  made  me  for  a  while  very  uncom 
fortable  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  continua 
tion  in  this  country,  (as  the  Church  of  Rome  might  be  in 
France  or  Spain,)  of  that  one  Church  of  which  in  old  times  20 
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,  so 
which  I  gave  above,  when  I  was  speaking  of  Tract  90,  were 
sufficient  for  the  purpose  ;  and  therefore  I  set  about  show 
ing  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  recognize  that  I  was 

2  if]  whether  10  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 

14  to]  anticipating 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  227 

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  recognized, 
while  the  interpretation  of  the  day  was  Protestant  and 
exclusive.  I  observe  also,  that,  though  my  Tract  was  an 

10  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 

20  remove  all  such  obstacles  as  were  in  the  way  of  holding 
the  Apostolic  and  Catholic  character  of  the  Anglican  teach 
ing  ;  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 

so  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." 

6  and  was  not]  not  that  it  was  not  1 1  it]  this 

18  came  in  the  way  of]  interfered  to  prevent  my  20  were]  lay 


228  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

A  third  measure  which  I  distinctly  contemplated,  was 
the  resignation  of  St.  Mary's,  whatever  became  of  the 
question  of  the  (39)  Articles  ;  and  as  a  first  step  I  meditated 
a  retirement  to  Littlemore.  (Littlemore  was  an  integral 
part  of  St.  Mary's  Parish,  and  between  two  and  three  miles 
distant  from  Oxford.)  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  10 
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  20 
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  30 
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 

8  Poor  Schools]  Parish  School 

9  contemplated]  had  in  view  13  then]  at  that  time 
16  the  friend  1864,  1865]  Mr.  Keble,  the  friend  1873 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  229 

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  parish 
ioners  ;  but  they  have  not  come  to  them.  In  consequence 
I  dropped  the  last  mentioned,  having,  while  it  lasted,  been 

10  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 

20  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 

so  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  under 
mine  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 

40  exercise  of  a  sacred  office,  yet  without  a  commission,  (and) 
against  the  wish  of  their  guides  and  governors  ? 


230  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

"  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,  10 
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  tempta 
tions  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  20 
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  Roman 
ism  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  so 
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  men 
tioned  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 

36  A.  B.]  Rogers 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  231 

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 

10  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  cer 
tainly  should  advise  you  to  stay."  I  answered  as  follows  : — 
"  Since  you  think  I  may  go  on,  it  seems  to  follow  that, 
under  the  circumstances,  1  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 

20  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  schismatizing  or  use  of  private  judg- 

30  ment." 

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  petar." 
And  this  was  the  result.  I  continue  : — 

"2.  Say,  that  I  move  sympathies  for  Rome  :  in  the 
same  sense  does  Hooker,  Taylor,  Bull,  &c.  Their  argu- 

3  My  friend's  1864,  1865]  Mr.  Keble's  1873 
12  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


232  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

ments  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 ;  10 
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  recom 
mend,  leads  to  Rome.  Who  knows  what  the  state  of  the 
University  may  be,  as  regards  Divinity  Professors  in  a  few 
years  hence  ?  Any  how,  a  great  battle  may  be  coming  on,  20 
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  so 
Tract  90  in  February,  1841.  (I  was  indeed  in  prudence 
taking  steps  towards  eventually  withdrawing  from  St. 
Mary's,  and  I  was  not  confident  about  my  permanent 
adhesion  to  the  Anglican  creed  ;  but  I  was  in  no  actual 
perplexity  or  trouble  of  mind.  Nor  did)  The  immense 
commotion  consequent  upon  the  publication  of  the  Tract 
[did  not]  unsettle  me  again  ;  for  I  (fancied  I)  had  weathered 
the  storm  (,  as  far  as  the  Bishops  were  concerned)  :  the 

9  said]  objected  13  it]  that  doctrine 

16  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]  21  C.  D.'s]  Milman's 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  233 

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.  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 
10  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.") 

1.  (March  25. — )  "  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 

20  ruin  all.     I  am  very  well  and  comfortable  ;  but  we  are  not 
yet  out  of  the  wood." 

2.  (April  1. — )  "  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 
so  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." 

(4.  April  4. — "  Your  letter  of  this  morning  was  an 
exceedingly  great  gratification  to  me  ;  and  it  is  confirmed, 
I  am  thankful  to  say,  by  the  opinion  of  others.  The  Bishop 

1  point ;  I]  point,  and  I 

4  to  a]  addressed  severally  to  Mr.  Bowden  and  another  17  1.]  2. 

22  2.]  3.  23,  28  letter]  Letter  25  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 

13 


234  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

sent  me  a  message  that  my  Letter  had  his  unqualified 
approbation  ;  and  since  that,  he  has  sent  me  a  note  to  the 
same  effect,  only  going  more  into  detail.  It  is  most  pleasant 
too  to  my  feelings,  to  have  such  a  testimony  to  the  sub 
stantial  truth  and  importance  of  No.  90,  as  I  have  had 
from  so  many  of  my  friends,  from  those  who,  from  their 
cautious  turn  of  mind,  I  was  least  sanguine  about.  I  have 
not  had  one  misgiving  myself  about  it  throughout  ;  and 
I  do  trust  that  what  has  happened  will  be  overruled  to 
subserve  the  great  cause  we  all  have  at  heart."}  10 

3.  (May  9. — )"  The  Bishops  are  very  desirous  of  hush 
ing  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  20 
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  (this)  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  30 
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  prin 
ciple  has  been  conceded  by  us,  or  condemned  by  authority. 
The  Bishop  has  but  said  that  a  certain  Tract  is  '  objection- 

11  3.]  5.  28  thus]  in  the  same  tone 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  235 

able,'  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  deter 
mined  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 
10  trouble  returned  on  me.     The  ghost  had  come  a  second 

time.  In  the  Arian  History  I  found  the  very  same  pheno 
menon,  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 
20  was  what  it  was  (then).  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  "  understand 
ing  ;  "  that,  on  which  I  had  acted  on  occasion  of  Tract  90, 

so  had  come  to  nought.  I  think  the  words,  which  had  then 
been  used  to  me,  were,  that  "  perhaps  two  or  three  (of 
them)  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  recognized  it  as 

21  in]  with 

24  which  I  published  fourteen  years  ago],  from  which  I  have  already 
quoted 

29  occasion]  the  first  appearance 


236  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  re-assert 
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  there- 10 
fore,  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  20 
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  so 
secessions  to  the  Church  of  Rome." 

Two  years  afterwards,  looking  back  on  what  had  passed, 
1  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 
(new)  Evangelical  Religion,  which  was  intended  in  that  40 
country  to  embrace  both  the  Lutheran  and  Calvinistic 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  237 

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  sup 
pose  that]  the  idea  of  Episcopacy,  as  the  Prussian  king 
understood  it,  was  (,  I  suppose,)  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 

10  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  suc 
ceeded,  it  gave  Protestantism  a  status  in  the  East,  which, 

20  in  association  with  the  Monophysite  or  Jacobite  and  the 
Nestorian  bodies,  formed  a  political  instrument  for  Eng 
land,  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 

so  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 

40  passed  the  Houses,)  provision  is  made  for  the  consecration 
of  "  British  subjects,  or  the  subjects  or  citizens  of  any 


238  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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,  10 
spiritual  jurisdiction  over  the  ministers  of  British  con 
gregations  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  fraternizing,  by  their  act  or  by  their  sufferance, 
with  Protestant  bodies,  and  allowing  them  to  put  them-  20 
selves  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  sym 
pathy  or  concurrence  with  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  it 
actually  was  courting  an  intercommunion  with  Protestant  so 
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  (,  since  the  16th  century,)  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 

22  the  due]  their  due  37  a  friend]  Mr.  Bowden 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  239 

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 

10  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  Regenera 
tion. 

"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 

20  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. 

so  "If  the  English  Church  is  to  enter  on  a  new  course,  and 
assume  a  new  aspect,  it  will  be  more  pleasant  to  me  here 
after  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 

40  learn,  whether  by  means  of  documents  or  measures,  whether 
from  the  statements  or  the  acts  of  persons  in  authority, 


240  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

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  10 
Most  Rev.  and  Right  Rev.  Body.    With  every  feeling  of 
reverent  attachment  to  your  Lordship, 

"  I  am,  &c." 

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]  :  20 

"  And  whereas  to  admit  maintainers  of  heresy  to  com 
munion,  without  formal  renunciation  of  their  errors,  goes 
far  towards  recognizing  the  same  : 

"  And  whereas  Lutheranism  and  Calvinism  are  heresies, 
repugnant  to  Scripture,  springing  up  three  centuries  since, 
and  anathematized  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  so 
and  Calvinist  congregations  in  the  East  (under  the  pro 
visions  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 

1  one]  One 


(FROM  1839  TO  1841.)  241 

of  his  Majesty's  dominions  '),  dispensing  at  the  same  time, 
not  in  particular  cases  and  accidentally,  but  as  if  on  prin 
ciple  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 
10  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  disorganization. 

"  JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN. 

"November  11,  1841." 

Looking  back  two  years  afterwards  on  the  above- 
20  mentioned  and  other  acts,  on  the  part  of  Anglican  Eccle 
siastical  authorities,  I  observe(d)  :  "  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  realizes  and  makes  them  practical ;  it 
has  been  the  recent  speeches  and  acts  of  authorities,  who 
30  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. 


PART  VI. 

HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  May  26,  1864.] 


PART   VI. 

HISTORY   OF  MY   RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS  (FROM  1841  TO  1845). 

(§!•) 

FROM  the  end  of  1841,  I  was  on  my  death-bed,  as  regards 
my  membership  with  the  Anglican  Church,  though  at  the 
time  I  became  aware  of  it  only  by  degrees.  I  introduce 
what  I  have  to  say  with  this  remark,  by  way  of  accounting 
for  the  character  of  this  remaining  portion  of  my  narrative. 
A  death-bed  has  scarcely  a  history  ;  it  is  a  tedious  decline, 
with  seasons  of  rallying  and  seasons  of  falling  back  ;  and 
since  the  end  is  foreseen,  or  what  is  called  a  matter  of  time, 
it  has  little  interest  for  the  reader,  especially  if  he  has 

10  a  kind  heart.  Moreover,  it  is  a  season  when  doors  are 
closed  and  curtains  drawn,  and  when  the  sick  man  neither 
cares  nor  is  able  to  record  the  stages  of  his  malady.  I  was 
in  these  circumstances,  except  so  far  as  I  was  not  allowed 
to  die  in  peace, — except  so  far  as  friends,  who  had  still 
a  full  right  to  come  in  upon  me,  and  the  public  world  which 
had  not,  have  given  a  sort  of  history  to  those  last  four 
years.  But  in  consequence,  my  narrative  must  be  in  great 
measure  documentary  (,  as  I  cannot  rely  on  my  memory, 
except  for  definite  particulars,  positive  or  negative).  Letters 

20  of  mine  to  friends  (since  dead)  have  come  to  me  [since  their 
deaths]  ;  others  have  been  kindly  lent  me  for  the  occasion  ; 
and  I  have  some  drafts  of  letters,  and  (some)  notes  of  my 
own,  though  I  have  no  strictly  personal  or  continuous 
memoranda  to  consult,  and  have  unluckily  mislaid  some 
valuable  papers. 

And  first  as  to  my  position  in  the  view  of  duty  ;   it  was 
this  : — 1,    I  had  given  up  my  place  in  the  Movement  in 

Part  VI]  Chapter  IV  20  to  me]  into  my  hands 

22  letters]  others  22  of  my  own]  which  I  made 

25  No  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865. 


246  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

my  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  in  the  spring  of  1841  ; 
but  2. 1  could  not  give  up  my  duties  towards  the  many  and 
various  minds  who  had  more  or  less  been  brought  into  it 
by  me  ;  3.  I  expected  or  intended  gradually  to  fall  back 
into  Lay  Communion  ;  4.  I  never  contemplated  leaving 
the  Church  of  England  ;  5.  I  could  not  hold  office  in  her, 
if  I  were  not  allowed  to  hold  the  Catholic  sense  of  the 
Articles  ;  6.  I  could  not  go  to  Rome,  while  she  suffered 
honours  to  be  paid  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  the  Saints 
which  I  thought  (in  my  conscience  to  be)  incompatible  10 
with  the  Supreme,  Incommunicable  Glory  of  the  One 
Infinite  and  Eternal ;  7.  I  desired  a  union  with  Rome 
under  conditions,  Church  with  Church  ;  8.  I  called  Little- 
more  my  Torres  Vedras,  and  thought  that  some  day  we 
might  advance  again  within  the  Anglican  Church,  as  we 
had  been  forced  to  retire  ;  9.  I  kept  back  all  persons  who 
were  disposed  to  go  to  Rome  with  all  my  might. 

And  I  kept  them  back  for  three  or  four  reasons  ;  1, 
because  what  I  could  not  in  conscience  do  myself,  I  could 
not  suffer  them  to  do  ;  2,  because  I  thought  that  in  various  20 
cases  they  were  acting  under  excitement ;  3,  [while  I  held 
St.  Mary's,]  because  I  had  duties  to  my  Bishop  and  to  the 
Anglican  Church  ;  and  4,  in  some  cases,  because  I  had 
received  from  their  Anglican  parents  or  superiors  direct 
charge  of  them. 

This  was  my  view  of  my  duty  from  the  end  of  1841,  to 
my  resignation  of  St.  Mary's  in  the  autumn  of  1843.  And 
now  I  shall  relate  my  view,  during  that  time,  of  the  state 
of  the  controversy  between  the  Churches. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  the  hitch  in  the  Anglican  argument,  so 
during  my  course  of  reading  in  the  summer  of  1839, 1  began 
to  look  about,  as  I  have  said,  for  some  ground  which  might 
supply  a  controversial  basis  for  my  need.  The  difficulty  in 
question  had  affected  my  view  both  of  Antiquity  and 
Catholicity  ;  for,  while  the  history  of  St.  Leo  showed  me 
that  the  deliberate  and  eventual  consent  of  the  great  body 
of  the  Church  ratified  a  doctrinal  decision  (as  a  part  of 
revealed  truth),  it  also  showed  that  the  rule  of  Antiquity 
was  not  infringed,  though  a  doctrine  had  not  been  publicly 

6  her]  its  service  29  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  18G5. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  247 

recognized  as  a  portion  of  the  dogmatic  foundation  of  the 
Church,  till  centuries  after  the  time  of  the  Apostles.  Thus, 
whereas  the  Creeds  tell  us  that  the  Church  is  One,  Holy, 
Catholic,  and  Apostolic,  I  could  not  prove  that  the  Anglican 
communion  was  an  integral  part  of  the  One  Church,  on  the 
ground  of  its  (teaching)  being  Apostolic  or  Catholic,  without 
reasoning  in  favour  of  what  are  commonly  called  the 
Roman  corruptions  ;  and  I  could  not  defend  our  separa 
tion  from  Home  (and  her  faith)  without  using  arguments 

10  prejudicial  to  those  great  doctrines  concerning  our  Lord, 
which  are  the  very  foundation  of  the  Christian  religion. 
The  Via  Media  was  an  impossible  idea  ;  it  was  what  I  had 
called  "  standing  on  one  leg ;  "  and  it  was  necessary,  if 
my  old  issue  of  the  controversy  was  to  be  retained,  to  go 
further  either  one  way  or  the  other. 

Accordingly,  I  abandoned  that  old  ground  and  took 
another.  I  deliberately  quitted  the  old  Anglican  ground 
as  untenable  ;  but  I  did  not  do  so  all  at  once,  but  as 
I  became  more  and  more  convinced  of  the  state  of  the  case. 

20  The  Jerusalem  Bishopric  was  the  ultimate  condemnation 
of  the  old  theory  of  the  Via  Media ;( — if  its  establishment 
did  nothing  else,  at  least  it  demolished  the  sacredness  of 
diocesan  rights.  If  England  could  be  in  Palestine,  Home 
might  be  in  England.  But  its  bearing  upon  the  contro 
versy,  as  I  have  shown  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  was  much 
more  serious  than  this  technical  ground.)  from  that  time 
the  Anglican  Church  was,  in  my  mind,  either  not  a  normal 
portion  of  that  One  Church  to  which  the  promises  were 
made,  or  at  least  in  an  abnormal  state,  and  from  that  time 

30 1  said  boldly,  as  I  did  in  my  Protest,  and  as  indeed  I  had 
even  intimated  in  my  Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford,  that 
the  Church  in  which  I  found  myself  had  no  claim  on  me, 
except  on  condition  of  its  being  a  portion  of  the  One 
Catholic  Communion,  and  that  that  condition  must  ever 
be  borne  in  mind  as  a  practical  matter,  and  had  to  be 
distinctly  proved.  All  this  was  not  inconsistent  with  my 
saying  (above)  that,  at  this  time,  I  had  no  thought  of 

1  a  portion  of  the  dogmatic  foundation  of  the  Church]  so  revealed 
18  but]  though 

21-6  Via  Media  ;   from]  Via  Media  : — if  its  ...  ground.     From 
30-1  ,  as  I  did  ...  Oxford]  (as  I  did  ...  Oxford)  36  was]  is 


248  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

leaving  that  Church  (of  England)  ;  because  I  felt  some  of 
my  old  objections  against  Rome  as  strongly  as  ever.  I  had 
no  right,  I  had  no  leave,  to  act  against  my  conscience. 
That  was  a  higher  rule  than  any  argument  about  the  Notes 
of  the  Church. 

Under  these  circumstances  I  turned  for  protection  to 
the  Note  of  Sanctity,  with  a  view  of  showing  that  we  had 
at  least  one  of  the  necessary  Notes,  as  fully  as  the  Church 
of  Rome  ;  or,  at  least,  without  entering  into  comparisons, 
that  we  had  it  in  such  a  sufficient  sense  as  to  reconcile  us  10 
to  our  position,  and  to  supply  full  evidence,  and  a  clear 
direction,  on  the  point  of  practical  duty.  We  had  the  Note 
of  Life, — not  any  sort  of  life,  not  such  only  as  can  come  of 
nature,  but  a  supernatural  Christian  life,  which  could  only 
come  directly  from  above.  (Thus,)  In  my  Article  in  the 
British  Critic,  to  which  I  have  so  often  referred,  in  January, 
1840  (before  the  time  of  Tract  90),  I  said  of  the  Anglican 
Church  that  "  she  has  the  note  of  possession,  the  note  of 
freedom  from  party  titles,  the  note  of  life, — a  tough  life 
and  a  vigorous  ;  she  has  ancient  descent,  unbroken  con-  20 
tinuance,  agreement  in  doctrine  with  the  Ancient  Church." 
Presently  I  go  on  to  speak  of  sanctity  :  "  Much  as  Roman 
Catholics  may  denounce  us  at  present  as  schismatic al,  they 
could  not  resist  us  if  the  Anglican  communion  had  but  that 
one  note  of  the  Church  upon  it, — sanctity.  The  Church  of 
the  day  [4th  century]  could  not  resist  Meletius ;  his 
enemies  were  fairly  overcome  by  him,  by  his  meekness  and 
holiness,  which  melted  the  most  jealous  of  them."  And 
I  continue,  "  We  are  almost  content  to  say  to  Romanists, 
account  us  not  yet  as  a  branch  of  the  Catholic  Church,  so 
though  we  be  a  branch,  till  we  are  like  a  branch,  provided 
that  when  we  do  become  like  a  branch,  then  you  consent 
to  acknowledge  us,"  &c.  And  so  I  was  led  on  in  the  Article 
to  that  sharp  attack  on  English  Catholics  for  their  short 
comings  as  regards  this  Note,  a  good  portion  of  which 
I  have  already  quoted  in  another  place.  It  is  there  that 
I  speak  of  the  great  scandal  which  I  took  at  their  political, 
social,  and  controversial  bearing  ;  and  this  was  a  second 
reason  why  I  fell  back  upon  the  Note  of  Sanctity,  because 

1  that]  the  26  These  are  the  Author'*  [  ] 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  249 

it  took  me  away  from  the  necessity  of  making  any  attack 
upon  the  doctrines  of  the  Roman  Church,  nay,  from  the 
consideration  of  her  popular  beliefs,  and  brought  me  upon 
a  ground  on  which  I  felt  I  could  not  make  a  mistake  ;  for 
what  is  a  higher  guide  for  us  in  speculation  and  in  prac 
tice,  than  that  conscience  of  right  and  wrong,  of  truth  and 
falsehood,  those  sentiments  of  what  is  decorous,  consistent, 
and  noble,  which  our  Creator  has  made  a  part  of  our 
original  nature  ?  Therefore  I  felt  I  could  not  be  wrong  in 

10  attacking  what  I  fancied  was  a  fact, — the  unscrupulous  - 
ness,  the  deceit,  and  the  intriguing  spirit  of  the  agents  and 
representatives  of  Rome. 

This  reference  to  Holiness  as  the  true  test  of  a  Church 
was  steadily  kept  in  view  in  what  I  wrote  in  connexion 
with  Tract  90.  I  say  in  its  Introduction,  "  The  writer  can 
never  be  party  to  forcing  the  opinions  or  projects  of  one 
school  upon  another  ;  religious  changes  should  be  the  act 
of  the  whole  body.  No  good  can  come  of  a  change  which 
is  not  a  development  of  feelings  springing  up  freely  and 

20  calmly  within  the  bosom  of  the  whole  body  itself  ;  every 
change  in  religion  "  must  be  "  attended  by  deep  repent 
ance  ;  changes  "  must  be  "  nurtured  in  mutual  love  ;  we 
cannot  agree  without  a  supernatural  influence  ;  "  we  must 
come  "  together  to  God  to  do  for  us  what  we  cannot  do  for 
ourselves."  In  my  Letter  to  the  Bishop  I  said,  "  I  have  set 
myself  against  suggestions  for  considering  the  differences 
between  ourselves  and  the  foreign  Churches  with  a  view 
to  their  adjustment."  (I  meant  in  the  way  of  negotiation, 
conference,  agitation,  or  the  like.)  "  Our  business  is  with 

so  ourselves, — to  make  ourselves  more  holy,  more  self-deny 
ing,  more  primitive,  more  worthy  of  our  high  calling.  To 
be  anxious  for  a  composition  of  differences  is  to  begin  at 
the  end.  Political  reconciliations  are  but  outward  and 
hollow,  and  fallacious.  And  till  Roman  Catholics  renounce 
political  efforts,  and  manifest  in  their  public  measures  the 
light  of  holiness  and  truth,  perpetual  war  is  our  only 
prospect." 

According  to  this  theory,  a  religious  body  is  part  of  the 
One  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church,  if  it  has  the  succession 

40  and  the  creed  of  the  Apostles,  with  the  note  of  holiness  of 
life  ;  and  there  is  much  in  such  a  view  to  approve  itself  to 


250  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

the  direct  common  sense  and  practical  habits  of  an  English 
man.  However,  with  (the)  events  consequent  upon  Tract  90, 
I  sunk  my  theory  to  a  lower  level.  (For)  What  could  be 
said  in  apology,  when  the  Bishops  and  the  people  of  my 
Church,  not  only  did  not  suffer,  but  actually  rejected 
primitive  Catholic  doctrine,  and  tried  to  eject  from  their 
communion  all  who  held  it  ?  after  the  Bishops'  charges  ? 
after  the  Jerusalem  "  abomination  (*)  ?  "  Well,  this  could 
be  said  ;  still  we  were  not  nothing  :  we  could  not  be  as  if 
we  never  had  been  a  Church  ;  we  were  "  Samaria."  This  10 
then  was  that  lower  level  on  which  I  placed  myself,  and  all 
who  felt  with  me,  at  the  end  of  1841. 

To  bring  out  this  view  was  the  purpose  of  Four  Sermons 
preached  at  St.  Mary's  in  December  of  that  year.  Hitherto 
I  had  not  introduced  the  exciting  topics  of  the  day  into 
the  Pulpit  (2)  ;  on  this  occasion  I  did.  I  did  so,  for  the 
moment  was  urgent  ;  there  was  great  unsettlement  of  mind 
among  us,  in  consequence  of  those  same  events  which  had 
unsettled  me.  One  special  anxiety,  very  obvious,  which 
was  coming  on  me  now,  was,  that  what  was  "  one  man's  20 
meat  was  another  man's  poison."  I  had  said  even  of 
Tract  90,  "It  was  addressed  to  one  set  of  persons,  and  has 
been  used  and  commented  on  by  another  ;  "  still  more 
was  it  true  now,  that  whatever  I  wrote  for  the  service  of 
those  whom  I  knew  to  be  in  trouble  of  mind,  would  become 
on  the  one  hand  matter  of  suspicion  and  slander  in  the 
mouths  of  my  opponents,  and  of  distress  and  surprise  to 
those  on  the  other  hand,  who  had  no  difficulties  of  faith 
at  all.  Accordingly,  when  I  published  these  Four  Sermons 
at  the  end  of  1843,  I  introduced  them  with  a  recommenda-  so 
tion  that  none  should  read  them  who  did  not  need  them. 
But  in  truth  the  virtual  condemnation  of  Tract  90,  after 
that  the  whole  difficulty  seemed  to  have  been  weathered, 
was  an  enormous  disappointment  and  trial.  My  Protest 
also  against  the  Jerusalem  Bishopric  was  an  unavoidable 
cause  of  excitement  in  the  case  of  many  ;  but  it  calmed 
them  too,  for  the  very  fact  of  a  Protest  was  a  relief  to  their 
impatience.  And  so,  in  like  manner,  as  regards  the  Four 
Sermons,  of  which  I  speak,  though  they  acknowledged 

Footnotes  in  1865.        (*  Matt.  xxiv.  15.  2  Vide  Note  C.  Sermon  on 

Wisdom  and  Innocence.} 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  251 

freely  the  great  scandal  which  was  involved  in  the  recent 
episcopal  doings,  yet  at  the  same  time  they  might  be  said 
to  bestow  upon  the  multiplied  disorders  and  shortcomings 
of  the  Anglican  Church  a  sort  of  place  in  the  Revealed 
Dispensation,  and  an  mtellectual  position  in  the  con 
troversy,  and  the  dignity  of  a  great  principle,  for  unsettled 
minds  to  take  and  use,( — a  principle)  which  might  teach 
them  to  recognize  their  own  consistency,  and  to  be  recon 
ciled  to  themselves,  and  which  might  absorb  [into  itself] 

10  and  dry  up  a  multitude  of  their  grudgings,  discontents, 
misgivings,  and  questionings,  and  lead  the  way  to  humble, 
thankful,  and  tranquil  thoughts  ; — and  this  was  the  effect 
which  certainly  it  produced  on  myself. 

The  point  of  these  Sermons  is,  that,  in  spite  of  the  rigid 
character  of  the  Jewish  law,  the  formal  and  literal  force 
of  its  precepts,  and  the  manifest  schism,  and  worse  than 
schism,  of  the  Ten  Tribes,  yet  in  fact  they  were  still  recog 
nized  as  a  people  by  the  Divine  Mercy  ;  that  the  great 
prophets  Elias  and  Eliseus  were  sent  to  them,  and  not 

20  only  so,  but  (were)  sent  to  preach  to  them  and  reclaim 
them,  without  any  intimation  that  they  must  be  reconciled 
to  the  line  of  David  and  the  Aaronic  priesthood,  or  go  up 
to  Jerusalem  to  worship.  They  were  not  in  the  Church, 
yet  they  had  the  means  of  grace  and  the  hope  of  acceptance 
with  their  Maker.  The  application  of  all  this  to  the  Anglican 
Church  was  immediate ; — whether(,  under  the  circum 
stances,)  a  man  could  assume  or  exercise  ministerial  func 
tions  [under  the  circumstances],  or  not,  might  not  clearly 
appear,  though  it  must  be  remembered  that  England  had 

30  the  Apostolic  Priesthood,  whereas  Israel  had  no  priesthood 
at  all ;  but  so  far  was  clear,  that  there  was  no  call  at  all 
for  an  Anglican  to  leave  his  Church  for  Rome,  though  he 
did  not  believe  his  own  to  be  part  of  the  One  Church  : — 
and  for  this  reason,  because  it  was  a  fact  that  the  kingdom 
of  Israel  was  cut  off  from  the  Temple  ;  and  yet  its  subjects, 
neither  in  a  mass,  nor  as  individuals,  neither  the  multitudes 
on  Mount  Carmel,  nor  the  Shunammite  and  her  house 
hold,  had  any  command  given  them,  though  miracles  were 

29-31  appear,  though  .  .  .  priesthood  at  all ;]  appear  (though  .  .  . 
at  all), 


252  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

displayed  before  them,  to  break  off  from  their  own  people, 
and  to  submit  themselves  to  Judah  1. 

It  is  plain,  that  a  theory  such  as  this,( — )whether  the 
marks  of  a  divine  presence  and  life  in  the  Anglican  Church 
were  sufficient  to  prove  that  she  was  actually  within  the 
covenant,  or  only  sufficient  to  prove  that  she  was  at  least 
enjoying  extraordinary  and  uncovenanted  mercies,( — )not 
only  lowered  her  level  in  a  religious  point  of  view,  but 
weakened  her  controversial  basis.  Its  very  novelty  made 
it  suspicious  ;  and  there  was  no  guarantee  that  the  process  10 
of  subsidence  might  not  continue,  and  that  it  might  not 
end  in  a  submersion.  Indeed,  to  many  minds,  to  say  that 
England  was  wrong  was  even  to  say  that  Rome  was  right ; 
and  no  ethical  (or  casuistic)  reasoning  whatever  could 
overcome  in  their  case  the  argument  from  prescription  and 
authority.  To  this  objection(,  as  made  to  my  new  teach 
ing,)  I  could  only  answer  that  I  did  not  make  my  circum 
stances.  I  fully  acknowledged  the  force  and  effectiveness 
of  the  genuine  Anglican  theory,  and  that  it  was  all  but 
proof  against  the  disputants  of  Rome ;  but  still  like  20 
Achilles,  it  had  a  vulnerable  point,  and  that  St.  Leo  had 
found  it  out  for  me,  and  that  I  could  not  help  it  ; — that, 
were  it  not  for  matter  of  fact,  the  theory  would  be  great 
indeed,  it  would  be  irresistible,  if  it  were  only  true.  When 
I  became  a  Catholic,  the  Editor  of  a  Magazine  who  had  in 
former  days  accused  me,  to  my  indignation,  of  tending 
towards  Rome,  wrote  to  me  to  ask,  which  of  the  two  was 
now  right,  he  or  I  ?  I  answered  him  in  a  letter,  part  of 
which  I  here  insert,  as  it  will  serve  as  a  sort  of  leave- 
taking  of  the  great  theory,  which  is  so  specious  to  look  so 
upon,  so  difficult  to  prove,  and  so  hopeless  to  work. 

"  Nov.  8,  1845.  I  do  not  think,  at  all  more  than  I  did, 
that  the  Anglican  principles  which  I  advocated  at  the  date 

1  As  I  am  not  writing  controversially,  I  will  only  here  remark  upon 
this  argument,  that  there  is  a  great  difference  between  a  command, 
which  implies  physical(,  material,  and  political)  conditions,  and  one 
which  is  moral.  To  go  to  Jerusalem  was  a  matter  of  the  body,  not  of 
the  soul. 


2  (and  footnote)  x] 3 

25  a  Magazine]  the  Christian  Observer,  Mr.  Wilkes, 

note,  line  3  implies]  presupposes 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  253 

you  mention,  lead  men  to  the  Church  of  Rome.  If  I  must 
specify  what  I  mean  by  'Anglican  principles/  I  should 
say,  e.  g.  taking  Antiquity,  not  the  existing  Church,  as  the 
oracle  of  truth  ;  and  holding  that  the  Apostolical  Succes 
sion  is  a  sufficient  guarantee  of  Sacramental  Grace,  without 
union  with  the  Christian  Church  throughout  the  world. 
I  think  these  still  the  firmest,  strongest  ground  against 
Rome — that  is,  if  they  can  be  held  ([as  truths  or  facts]) 
They  have  been  held  by  many,  and  are  far  more  difficult 

10  to  refute  in  the  Roman  controversy,  than  those  of  any  other 
religious  body. 

"  For  myself,  I  found  /  could  not  hold  them.  I  left 
them.  From  the  time  I  began  to  suspect  their  unsound- 
ness,  I  ceased  to  put  them  forward.  When  I  was  fairly 
sure  of  their  unsoundness,  I  gave  up  my  Living.  When 
I  was  fully  confident  that  the  Church  of  Rome  was  the 
only  true  Church,  I  joined  her. 

"  I  have  felt  all  along  that  Bp.  Bull's  theology  was  the 
only  theology  on  which  the  English  Church  could  stand. 

20 1  have  felt,  that  opposition  to  the  Church  of  Rome  was 
part  of  that  theology  ;  and  that  he  who  could  not  protest 
against  the  Church  of  Rome  was  no  true  divine  in  the 
English  Church.  I  have  never  said,  nor  attempted  to  say, 
that  any  one  in  office  in  the  English  Church,  whether  Bishop 
or  incumbent,  could  be  otherwise  than  in  hostility  to  the 
Church  of  Rome." 

The  Via  Media  then  disappeared  for  ever,  and  a  [new] 
Theory,  made  expressly  for  the  occasion,  took  its  place. 
I  was  pleased  with  my  new  view.  I  wrote  to  an  intimate 

so  friend,  (Samuel  F.  Wood,)  Dec.  13,  1841,  "I  think  you 
will  give  me  the  credit,  Carissime,  of  not  undervaluing  the 
strength  of  the  feelings  which  draw  one  [to  Rome],  and 
yet  I  am  (I  trust)  quite  clear  about  my  duty  to  remain 
where  I  am  ;  indeed,  much  clearer  than  I  was  some  time 
since.  If  it  is  not  presumptuous  to  say,  I  have  ...  a  much 
more  definite  view  of  the  promised  inward  Presence  of 
Christ  with  us  in  the  Sacraments  now  that  the  outward 
notes  of  it  are  being  removed.  And  I  am  content  to  be 
with  Moses  in  the  desert,  or  with  Elijah  excommunicated 

5  without]  without  8,  32  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 

26  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865. 


254  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

from   the   Temple.      I  say    this,   putting   things    at  the 
strongest." 

However,  my  friends  of  the  moderate  Apostolical  party, 
who  were  my  friends  for  the  very  reason  of  my  having 
been  so  moderate  and  Anglican  myself  in  general  tone  in 
times  past,  who  had  stood  up  for  Tract  90  partly  from 
faith  in  me,  and  certainly  from  generous  and  kind  feeling, 
and  had  thereby  shared  an  obloquy  which  was  none  of 
theirs,  were  naturally  surprised  and  offended  at  a  line  of 
argument,  novel,  and;  as  it  appeared  to  them,  wanton,  10 
which  threw  the  whole  controversy  into  confusion,  stultified 
my  former  principles,  and  substituted,  as  they  would  con 
sider,  a  sort  of  methodistic  self-contemplation,  especially 
abhorrent  both  to  my  nature  and  to  my  past  professions, 
for  the  plain  and  honest  tokens,  as  they  were  commonly 
received,  of  a  divine  mission  in  the  Anglican  Church.  They 
could  not  tell  whither  I  was  going  ;  and  were  still  further 
annoyed,  when  I  would  view  the  reception  of  Tract  90  by 
the  public  and  the  Bishops  as  so  grave  a  matter,  and  (when 
I)  threw  about  what  they  considered  mysterious  hints  of  20 
"  eventualities,"  and  would  not  simply  say,  "  An  Anglican 
I  was  born,  and  an  Anglican  I  will  die."  One  of  my  familiar 
friends,  (Mr.  Church,)  who  was  in  the  country  at  Christmas, 
1841-2,  reported  to  me  the  feeling  that  prevailed  about 
me  ;  and  how  I  felt  towards  it  will  appear  in  the  following 
letter  of  mine,  written  in  answer  :— 

"  Oriel,  Dec.  24,  1841.  Carissime,  you  cannot  tell  how 
sad  your  account  of  Moberly  has  made  me.  His  view  of 
the  sinfulness  of  the  decrees  of  Trent  is  as  much  against 
union  of  Churches  as  against  individual  conversions.  To  so 
tell  the  truth,  I  never  have  examined  those  decrees  with 
this  object,  and  have  no  view  ;  but  that  is  very  different 
from  having  a  deliberate  view  against  them.  Could  not  he 
.  say  which  they  are  ?  I  suppose  Transubstantiation  is  one. 
A.  B.,  though  of  course  he  would  not  like  to  have  it 
repeated  (4),  does  not  scruple  at  that.  I  have  not  my  mind 
clear.  Moberly  must  recollect  that  Palmer  ([of  Worcester]} 

18  would  view]  persisted  in  viewing         35  A.  B.]  Charles  Marriott 
Footnote  in  1865.      (*  As  things  stand  now,  I  do  not  think  he  would 
have  objected  to  his  opinion  being  generally  known.) 
37  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  255 

thinks  they  all  bear  a  Catholic  interpretation.  For  myself, 
this  only  I  see,  that  there  is  indefinitely  more  in  the  Fathers 
against  our  own  state  of  alienation  from  Christendom  than 
against  the  Tridentine  Decrees. 

"  The  only  thing  I  can  think  of  [that  I  can  have  said  (of 
a  startling  character,}]  is  this,  that  there  were  persons  who, 
if  our  Church  committed  herself  to  heresy,  sooner  than  think 
that  there  was  no  Church  any  where,  would  believe  the 
Roman  to  be  the  Church  ;  and  therefore  would  on  faith 

10  accept  what  they  could  not  otherwise  acquiesce  in.  I  sup 
pose,  it  would  be  no  relief  to  him  to  insist  upon  the  circum 
stance  that  there  is  no  immediate  danger.  Individuals  can 
never  be  answered  for  of  course  ;  but  I  should  think  lightly 
of  that  man,  who,  for  some  act  of  the  Bishops,  should  all 
at  once  leave  the  Church.  Now,  considering  how  the  Clergy 
really  are  improving,  considering  that  this  row  is  even 
making  them  read  the  Tracts,  is  it  not  possible  we  may  all 
be  in  a  better  state  of  mind  seven  years  hence  to  consider 
these  matters  ?  and  may  we  not  leave  them  meanwhile 

20  to  the  will  of  Providence  ?  I  cannot  believe  this  work  has 
been  of  man  ;  God  has  a  right  to  His  own  work,  to  do  what 
He  will  with  it.  May  we  not  try  to  leave  it  in  His  hands, 
and  be  content  ? 

"  If  you  learn  any  thing  about  Barter,  which  leads  you 
to  think  that  I  can  relieve  him  by  a  letter,  let  me  know. 
The  truth  is  this, — our  good  friends  do  not  read  the  Fathers  ; 
they  assent  to  us  from  the  common  sense  of  the  case  :  then, 
when  the  Fathers,  and  we,  say  more  than  their  common 
sense,  they  are  dreadfully  shocked. 

so  "  The  Bishop  of  London  has  rejected  a  man,  1.  For 
holding  any  Sacrifice  in  the  Eucharist.  2.  The  Real 
Presence.  3.  That  there  is  a  grace  in  Ordination  2. 

"  Are  we  quite  sure  that  the  Bishops  will  not  be  drawing 
up  some  stringent  declarations  of  faith  ?  is  this  what 
Moberly  fears  ?  Would  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  accept 
them  ?  If  so,  I  should  be  driven  into  the  Refuge  for  the 

2  I  cannot  prove  this  at  this  distance  of  time  ;  but  I  do  not  think  it 
wrong  to  introduce  here  the  passage  containing  it,  as  I  am  imputing  to 
the  Bishop  nothing  which  the  world  would  think  disgraceful,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  what  a  large  religious  body  would  approve. 

5,  6  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]  32  and  footnote  2]  5 


256  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

Destitute  [Littlemore].  But  I  promise  Moberly,  I  would 
do  my  utmost  to  catch  all  dangerous  persons  and  clap 
them  into  confinement  there." 

Christmas  Day,  1841.  "  I  have  been  dreaming  of 
Moberly  all  night.  Should  not  he  and  the  like  see,  that 
it  is  unwise,  unfair,  and  impatient  to  ask  others,  What  will 
you  do  under  circumstances,  which  have  not,  which  may 
never  come  ?  Why  bring  fear,  suspicion,  'and  disunion 
into  the  camp  about  things  which  are  merely  in  posse  ? 
Natural,  and  exceedingly  kind  as  Barter's  and  another  10 
friend's  letters  were,  I  think  they  have  done  great  harm. 
I  speak  most  sincerely  when  I  say,  that  there  are  things 
which  I  neither  contemplate,  nor  wish  to  contemplate  ; 
but,  when  I  am  asked  about  them  ten  times,  at  length 
I  begin  to  contemplate  them. 

"  He  surely  does  not  mean  to  say,  that  nothing  could 
separate  a  man  from  the  English  Church,  e.  g.  its  avowing 
Socinianism ;  its  holding  the  Holy  Eucharist  in  a  Socinian 
sense.  Yet,  he  would  say,  it  was  not  right  to  contemplate 
such  things.  20 

"  Again,  our  case  is  [diverging]  from  that  of  Ken's.  To 
say  nothing  of  the  last  miserable  century,  which  has  given 
us  to  start  from  a  much  lower  level  and  with  much  less  to 
spare  than  a  Churchman  in  the  17th  century,  questions  of 
doctrine  are  now  coming  in  ;  with  him,  it  was  a  question 
of  discipline. 

"  If  such  dreadful  events  were  realized,  I  cannot  help 
thinking  we  should  all  be  vastly  more  agreed  than  we 
think  now.  Indeed,  is  it  possible  (humanly  speaking)  that 
those,  who  have  so  much  the  same  heart,  should  widely  30 
differ  ?  But  let  this  be  considered,  as  to  alternatives. 
What  communion  could  we  join  ?  Could  the  Scotch  or 
American  sanction  the  presence  of  its  Bishops  and  con 
gregations  in  England,  without  incurring  the  imputation 
of  schism,  unless  indeed  (and  is  that  likely  ?)  they  denounced 
the  English  as  heretical  ? 

"  Is  not  this  a  time  of  strange  providences  ?  is  it  not 
our  safest  course,  without  looking  to  consequences,  to  do 
simply  what  we  think  right  day  by  day  ?  shall  we  not  be 

1,21  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]    - 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  257 

sure  to  go  wrong,  if  we  attempt  to  trace  by  anticipation 
the  course  of  divine  Providence  ? 

"  Has  not  all  our  misery,  as  a  Church,  arisen  from  people 
being  afraid  to  look  difficulties  in  the  face  ?  They  have 
palliated  acts,  when  they  should  have  denounced  them. 
There  is  that  good  fellow,  Worcester  Palmer,  can  white 
wash  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission  and  the  Jerusalem 
Bishopric.  And  what  is  the  consequence  ?  that  our  Church 
has,  through  centuries,  ever  been  sinking  lower  and  lower, 
10  till  good  part  of  its  pretensions  and  professions  is  a  mere 
sham,  though  it  be  a  duty  to  make  the  best  of  what  we 
have  received.  Yet,  though  bound  to  make  the  best  of 
other  men's  shams,  let  us  not  incur  any  of  our  own.  The 
truest  friends  of  our  Church  are  they,  who  say  boldly 
when  her  rulers  are  going  wrong,  and  the  consequences  ; 
and  (to  speak  catachrestically)  they  are  most  likely  to  die 
in  the  Church,  who  are,  under  these  black  circumstances, 
most  prepared  to  leave  it. 

"  And  I  will  add,  that,  considering  the  traces  of  God's 

20  grace  which  surround  us,  I  am  very  sanguine,  or  rather 

confident,  (if  it  is  right  so  to  speak,)  that  our  prayers  and 

our  alms  will  come  up  as  a  memorial  before  God,  and  that 

all  this  miserable  confusion  tends  to  good. 

"  Let  us  not  then  be  anxious,  and  anticipate  differences 
in  prospect,  when  we  agree  in  the  present. 

"  P.S.  I  think,  when  friends  [i.e.  the  extreme  party] 
get  over  their  first  unsettlement  of  mind  and  consequent 
vague  apprehensions,  which  the  new  attitude  of  the  Bishops, 
and  our  feelings  upon  it,  have  brought  about,  they  will  get 
so  contented  and  satisfied.  They  will  see  that  they  exag 
gerated  things.  .  .  Of  course  it  would  have  been  wrong  to 
anticipate  what  one's  feelings  would  be  under  such  a  painful 
contingency  as  the  Bishops'  charging  as  they  have  done, — 
so  it  seems  to  me  nobody's  fault.  Nor  is  it  wonderful  that 
others"  [moderate  men]  "are  startled"  [i.e.  at  my  Pro 
test,  &c.  &c.]  ;  "  yet  they  should  recollect  that  the  more 
implicit  the  reverence  one  pays  to  a  Bishop,  the  more  keen 
will  be  one's  perception  of  heresy  in  him.  The  cord  is 
binding  and  compelling,  till  it  snaps. 


APOLOGIA 


26,  35,  36  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


K 


258  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

"  Men  of  reflection  would  have  seen  this,  if  they  had 
looked  that  way.  Last  spring,  a  very  high  churchman 
talked  to  me  of  resisting  my  Bishop,  of  asking  him  for  the 
Canons  under  which  he  acted,  and  so  forth  ;  but  those, 
who  have  cultivated  a  loyal  feeling  towards  their  superiors, 
are  the  most  loving  servants,  or  the  most  zealous  protestors. 
If  others  became  so  too,  if  the  clergy  of  Chester  denounced 
the  heresy  of  their  diocesan,  they  would  be  doing  their 
duty,  and  relieving  themselves  of  the  share  which  they 
otherwise  have  in  any  possible  defection  of  their  brethren.  10 

"  St.  Stephen's  [(Day)  December  26].  How  I  fidget  ! 
I  now  fear  that  the  note  I  wrote  yesterday  only  makes 
matters  worse  by  disclosing  too  much.  This  is  always  my 
great  difficulty. 

"  In  the  present  state  of  excitement  on  both  sides, 
I  think  of  leaving  out  altogether  my  reassertion  of  No.  90 
in  my  Preface  to  Volume  6  ([of  Parochial  Sermons]),  and 
merely  saying,  '  As  many  false  reports  are  at  this  time  in 
circulation  about  him^  he  hopes  his  well-wishers  will  take 
this  Volume  as  an  indication  of  his  real  thoughts  and  feel-  20 
ings  :  those  who  are  not,  he  leaves  in  God's  hand  to  bring 
them  to  a  better  mind  in  His  own  time.'  What  do  you 
say  to  the  logic,  sentiment,  and  propriety  of  this  ?  " 

There  was  one  very  old  friend,  at  a  distance  from  Oxford, 
(Archdeacon  Robert  I.  Wilberforce,)  [afterwards  a  Catholic, 
now  dead  some  years,  who]  must  have  said  something  to 
me  (at  this  time),  I  do  not  know  what,  which  challenged 
a  frank  reply  ;  for  I  disclosed  to  him,  I  do  not  know  in 
what  words,  my  frightful  suspicion,  hitherto  only  known 
to  two  persons,  (viz.  his  brother  Henry,  and  Mr.  (now  Sir  so 
Frederick)  Rogers,)  that,  as  regards  my  Anglicanism,  per 
haps  I  might  break  down  in  the  event,( — )that  perhaps  we 
were  both  out  of  the  Church.  (I  think  I  recollect  expressing 
my  difficulty,  as  derived  from  the  Arian  and  Monophysite 
history,  in  a  form  in  which  it  would  be  most  intelligible  to 
him,  as  being  in  fact  an  admission  of  Bishop  Bull's  ;  viz. 
that  in  the  controversies  of  the  early  centuries  the  Roman 
Church  was  ever  on  the  right  side,  which  was  of  course 
a  primd  facie  argument  in  favour  of  Rome  and  against 

11,  17  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]  24  There  was  one  very]  An 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  259 

Anglicanism  now.)  He  answered  me  thus,  under  date  of 
Jan.  29,  1842  :  "I  don't  think  that  I  ever  was  so  shocked 
by  any  communication,  which  was  ever  made  to  me,  as  by 
your  letter  of  this  morning.  It  has  quite  unnerved  me.  .  . 
I  cannot  but  write  to  you,  though  I  am  at  a  loss  where  to 
begin.  .  .  I  know  of  no  act  by  which  we  have  dissevered 
ourselves  from  the  communion  of  the  Church  Universal.  .  . 
The  more  I  study  Scripture,  the  more  am  I  impressed  with 
the  resemblance  between  the  Romish  principle  in  the  Church 

10  and  the  Babylon  of  St.  John.  .  .  I  am  ready  to  grieve  that 
I  ever  directed  my  thoughts  to  theology,  if  it  is  indeed  so 
uncertain,  as  your  doubts  seem  to  indicate." 

While  my  old  and  true  friends  were  thus  in  trouble 
about  me,  I  suppose  they  felt  not  only  anxiety  but  pain, 
to  see  that  I  was  gradually  surrendering  myself  to  the 
influence  of  others,  who  had  not  their  own  claims  upon  me, 
younger  men,  and  of  a  cast  of  mind  (in  no  small  degree) 
uncongenial  to  my  own.  A  new  school  of  thought  was 
rising,  as  is  usual  in  such  movements,  and  was  sweeping 

20  the  original  party  of  the  movement  aside,  and  was  taking 
its  place.  The  most  prominent  person  in  it,  was  a  man  of 
elegant  genius,  of  classical  mind,  of  rare  talent  in  literary 
composition  : — Mr.  Oakeley.  He  was  not  far  from  my  own 
age  ;  I  had  long  known  him,  though  of  late  years  he  had 
not  been  in  residence  at  Oxford  ;  and  quite  lately,  he  has 
been  taking  several  signal  occasions  of  renewing  that  kind 
ness,  which  he  ever  showed  towards  me  when  we  were  both 
in  the  Anglican  Church.  His  tone  of  mind  was  not  unlike 
that  which  gave  a  character  to  the  early  movement ;  he 

so  was  almost  a  typical  Oxford  man,  and,  as  far  as  I  recollect, 
both  in  political  and  ecclesiastical  views,  would  have  been 
of  one  spirit  with  the  Oriel  party  of  1826 — 1833.  But  he 
had  entered  late  into  the  Movement ;  he  did  not  know 
its  first  years ;  and,  beginning  with  a  new  start,  he  was 
naturally  thrown  together  with  that  body  of  eager,  acute, 
resolute  minds  who  had  begun  their  Catholic  life  about 
the  same  time  as  he,  who  knew  nothing  about  the  Via 
Media,  but  had  heard  much  about  Rome.  This  new  party 

12  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865. 

19  such  movements]  doctrinal  inquiries 

23  : — Mr.  Oakeley  The  name  was  not  given  in  the  original  pamphlet. 


260  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

rapidly  formed  and  increased,  in  and  out  of  Oxford,  and, 
as  it  so  happened,  contemporaneously  with  that  very 
summer,  when  I  received  so  serious  a  blow  to  my  ecclesias 
tical  views  from  the  study  of  the  Monophysite  controversy. 
These  men  cut  into  the  original  Movement  at  an  angle,  fell 
across  its  line  of  thought,  and  then  set  about  turning  that 
line  in  its  own  direction.  They  were  most  of  them  keenly 
religious  men,  with  a  true  concern  for  their  souls  as  the 
first  matter  of  all,  with  a  great  zeal  for  me,  but  giving  little 
certainty  at  the  time  as  to  which  way  they  would  ultimately  10 
turn.  Some  in  the  event  have  remained  firm  to  Angli 
canism,  some  have  become  Catholics,  and  some  have  found 
a  refuge  in  Liberalism.  Nothing  was  clearer  concerning 
them,  than  that  they  needed  to  be  kept  in  order  ;  and  on 
me  who  had  had  so  much  to  do  with  the  making  of  them, 
that  duty  was  as  clearly  incumbent  ;  and  it  is  equally  clear, 
from  what  I  have  already  said,  that  I  was  just  the  person, 
above  all  others,  who  could  not  undertake  it.  There  are 
no  friends  like  old  friends  ;  but  of  those  old  friends,  few 
could  help  me,  few  could  understand  me,  many  were  20 
annoyed  with  me,  some  were  angry,  because  I  was  break 
ing  up  a  compact  party,  and  some,  as  a  matter  of  conscience, 
could  not  listen  to  me.  (When  I  looked  round  for  those 
whom  I  might  consult  in  my  difficulties,  I  found  the  very 
hypothesis  of  those  difficulties  acting  as  a  bar  to  their 
giving  me  their  advice.  Then)  I  said,  bitterly,  "  You  are 
throwing  me  on  others,  whether  I  will  or  no."  Yet  still 
I  had  good  and  true  friends  around  me  of  the  old  sort,  in 
and  out  of  Oxford  too(,  who  were  a  great  help  to  me). 
But  on  the  other  hand,  though  I  neither  was  so  fond  ((with  30 
a  few  exceptions))  of  the  persons,  nor  of  the  methods  of 
thought,  which  belonged  to  this  new  school,  [excepting 
two  or  three  men,]  as  of  the  old  set,  though  I  could  not 
trust  in  their  firmness  of  purpose,  for,  like  a  swarm  of  flies, 
they  might  come  and  go,  and  at  length  be  divided  and 
dissipated,  yet  I  had  an  intense  sympathy  in  their  object 
and  in  the  direction  of  their  path,  in  spite  of  my  old 
friends,  in  spite  of  my  old  life -long  prejudices.  In  spite  of 
my  ingrained  fears  of  Rome,  and  the  decision  of  my  reason 

37  of  their  path]  in  which  their  path  lay 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  261 

and  conscience  against  her  usages,  in  spite  of  my  affection 
for  Oxford  and  Oriel,  yet  I  had  a  secret  longing  love  of 
Rome  the  author  of  English  Christianity,  and  I  had  a  true 
devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  in  whose  College  I  lived, 
whose  Altar  I  served,  and  whose  Immaculate  Purity  I  had 
in  one  of  my  earliest  printed  Sermons  made  much  of. 
And  it  was  the  consciousness  of  this  bias  in  myself,  if  it 
is  so  to  be  called,  which  made  me  preach  so  earnestly 
against  the  danger  of  being  swayed  (in  religious  inquiry) 

10  by  our  sympathy  rather  than  (by)  our  reason  [in  religious 
inquiry].  And  moreover,  the  members  of  this  new  school 
looked  up  to  me,  as  I  have  said,  and  did  me  true  kind 
nesses,  and  really  loved  me,  and  stood  by  me  in  trouble, 
when  others  went  away,  and  for  all  this  I  was  grateful  ; 
nay,  many  of  them  were  in  trouble  themselves,  and  in  the 
same  boat  with  me,  and  that  was  a  further  cause  of  sym 
pathy  between  us  ;  and  hence  it  was,  when  the  new  school 
came  on  in  force,  and  into  collision  with  the  old,  I  had  not 
the  heart,  any  more  than  the  power,  to  repel  them  ;  I  was 

20  in  great  perplexity,  and  hardly  knew  where  I  stood  ;  I  took 
their  part  ;  and,  when  I  wanted  to  be  in  peace  and  silence, 
I  had  to  speak  out,  and  I  incurred  the  charge  of  weakness 
from  some  men,  and  of  mysteriousness,  shuffling,  and  under 
hand  dealing  from  the  majority. 

Now  I  will  say  here  frankly,  that  this  sort  of  charge  is 
a  matter  which  I  cannot  properly  meet,  because  I  cannot 
duly  realize  it.  I  have  never  had  any  suspicion  of  my  own 
honesty  ;  and,  when  men  say  that  I  was  dishonest,  I  cannot 
grasp  the  accusation  as  a  distinct  conception,  such  as  it  is 

so  possible  to  encounter.  If  a  man  said  to  me,  "  On  such 
a  day  and  before  such  persons  you  said  a  thing  was  white, 
when  it  was  black,"  I  understand  what  is  meant  well 
enough,  and  I  can  set  myself  to  prove  an  alibi  or  to  explain 
the  mistake  ;  or  if  a  man  said  to  me,  "  You  tried  to  gain 
me  over  to  your  party,  intending  to  take  me  with  you  to 
Rome,  but  you  did  not  succeed,"  I  can  give  him  the  lie,  and 
lay  down  an  assertion  of  my  own  as  firm  and  as  exact  as 
his,  that  not  from  the  time  that  I  was  first  unsettled,  did 
I  ever  attempt  to  gain  any  one  over  to  myself  or  to  my 

3  author  1864]  mother  1864  (another  copy),  Mother  1865. 
24  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865. 


262  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

Romanizing  opinions,  and  that  it  is  only  his  own  cox 
combical  fancy  which  has  bred  such  a  thought  in  him  :  but 
my  imagination  is  at  a  loss  in  presence  of  those  vague 
charges,  which  have  commonly  been  brought  against  me, 
charges,  which  are  made  up  of  impressions,  and  understand 
ings,  and  inferences,  and  hearsay,  and  surmises.  Accord 
ingly,  I  shall  not  make  the  attempt,  for,  in  doing  so, 
I  should  be  dealing  blows  in  the  air  ;  what  I  shall  attempt 
is  to  state  what  I  know  of  myself  and  what  I  recollect,  and 
leave  its  application  to  others.  10 

While  I  had  confidence  in  the  Via  Media,  and  thought 
that  nothing  could  overset  it,  I  did  not  mind  laying  down 
large  principles,  which  I  saw  would  go  further  than  was 
commonly  perceived.  I  considered  that  to  make  the  Via 
Media  concrete  and  substantive,  it  must  be  much  more 
than  it  was  in  outline  ;  that  the  Anglican  Church  must 
have  a  ceremonial,  a  ritual,  and  a  fulness  of  doctrine  and 
devotion,  which  it  had  not  at  present,  if  it  were  to  compete 
with  the  Roman  Church  with  any  prospect  of  success. 
Such  additions  would  not  remove  it  from  its  proper  basis,  20 
but  would  merely  strengthen  and  beautify  it  :  such,  for 
instance,  would  be  confraternities,  particular  devotions, 
reverence  for  the  Blessed  Virgin,  prayers  for  the  dead, 
beautiful  churches,  rich  offerings  to  them  and  in  them, 
monastic  houses,  and  many  other  observances  and  institu 
tions,  which  I  used  to  say  belonged  to  us  as  much  as  to 
Rome,  though  Rome  had  appropriated  them,  and  boasted 
of  them,  by  reason  of  our  having  let  them  slip  from  us. 
The  principle,  on  which  all  this  turned,  is  brought  out  in 
one  of  the  Letters  I  published  on  occasion  of  Tract  90.30 
'  The  age  is  moving,"  I  said,  "  towards  something  ;  and 
most  unhappily  the  one  religious  communion  among  us, 
which  has  of  late  years  been  practically  in  possession  of 
this  something,  is  the  Church  of  Rome.  She  alone,  amid 
all  the  errors  and  evils  of  her  practical  system,  has  given 
free  scope  to  the  feelings  of  awe,  mystery,  tenderness, 
reverence,  devotedness,  and  other  feelings  which  may  be 
especially  called  Catholic.  The  question  then  is,  whether 
we  shall  give  them  up  to  the  Roman  Church  or  claim  them 

10  its  application  to  others]  to  others  its  application 
24  rich]  munificent 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  263 

for  ourselves.  .  .  But  if  we  do  give  them  up,  we  must  give 
up  the  men  who  cherish  them.  We  must  consent  either 
to  give  up  the  men,  or  to  admit  their  principles."  With 
these  feelings  I  frankly  admit,  that,  while  I  was  working 
simply  for  the  sake  of  the  Anglican  Church,  I  did  not  at 
all  mind,  though  I  found  myself  laying  down  principles  in 
its  defence,  which  went  beyond  that  particular  (kind  of) 
defence  which  high-and-dry  men  thought  perfection,  and 
(even)  though  I  ended  in  framing  a  sort  of  defence,  which 
10  they  might  call  a  revolution,  while  I  thought  it  a  restora 
tion.  Thus,  for  illustration,  I  might  discourse  upon  the 
"  Communion  of  Saints  "  in  such  a  manner,  (though  I  do 
not  recollect  doing  so,)  as  might  lead  the  way  towards 
devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  the  saints  on  the  one 
hand,  and  towards  prayers  for  the  dead  on  the  other.  In 
a  memorandum  of  the  year  1844  or  1845,  I  thus  speak  on 
this  subject  :  "  If  the  Church  be  not  defended  on  establish 
ment  grounds,  it  must  be  upon  principles,  which  go  far 
beyond  their  immediate  object.  Sometimes  I  saw  these 
20  further  results,  sometimes  not.  Though  I  saw  them, 
I  sometimes  did  not  say  that  I  saw  them  ;  so  long  as 
I  thought  they  were  inconsistent,  not  with  our  Church,  but 
only  with  the  existing  opinions,  I  was  not  unwilling  to 
insinuate  truths  into  our  Church,  which  I  thought  had 
a  right  to  be  there." 

To  so  much  I  confess  ;  but  I  do  not  confess,  I  simply 
deny  that  I  ever  said  any  thing  which  secretly  bore  against 
the  Church  of  England,  knowing  it  myself,  in  order  that 
others  might  unwarily  accept  it.  It  was  indeed  one  of 
so  my  great  difficulties  and  causes  of  reserve,  as  time  went 
on,  that  I  at  length  recognized  in  principles  which  I  had 
honestly  preached  as  if  Anglican,  conclusions  favourable 
to  the  Roman  Church.  Of  course  I  did  not  like  to  confess 
this  ;  and,  when  interrogated,  was  in  consequence  in  per 
plexity.  The  prime  instance  of  this  was  the  appeal  to 
Antiquity  ;  St.  Leo  had  overset,  in  my  own  judgment,  its 
force  in  the  special  argument  for  Anglicanism  ;  yet  I  was 
committed  to  Antiquity,  together  with  the  whole  Anglican 
school ;  what  then  was  I  to  say,  when  acute  minds  urged 

9  sort]  kind  14  saints]  Saints 

33  Roman  Church]  cause  of  Rome  37  force  in]  force  as 


264  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

this  or  that  application  of  it  against  the  Via  Media  ?    it 
was  impossible  that,  in  such  circumstances,  any  answer 
could   be   given   which   was   not"  unsatisfactory,    or   any 
behaviour  adopted  which  was  not  mysterious.    Again,  some 
times  in  what  I  wrote  I  went  just  as  far  as  I  saw,  and  could 
as  little  say  more,  as  I  could  see  what  is  below  the  horizon  ; 
and  therefore,  when  asked  as  to  the  consequences  of  what 
I  had  said,  (I)  had  no  answer  to  give.    Again,  sometimes 
when  I  was  asked,  whether  certain  conclusions  did  not 
follow  from  a  certain  principle,  I  might  not  be  able  to  tell  10 
at  the  moment,  especially  if  the  matter  were  complicated  ; 
and  for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  because  there  is  great 
difference  between  a  conclusion  in  the  abstract  and  a  con 
clusion  in  the  concrete,  and  because  a  conclusion  may  be 
modified  in  fact  by  a  conclusion  from  some  opposite  prin 
ciple.     Or  it  might  so  happen  that  I  got  simply  confused, 
by  the  very  clearness  of  the  logic  which  was  administered 
to  me,  and  thus  (I)  gave  my  sanction  to  conclusions  which 
really  were  not  mine  ;    and  when  the  report  of  those  con 
clusions  came  round  to  me  through  others,  I  had  to  unsay  20 
them.    And  then  again,  perhaps  I  did  not  like  to  see  men 
scared  or  scandalized  by  unfeeling  logical  inferences,  which 
would  not  have  touched  them  to  the  day  of  their  death, 
had  they  not  been  made  to  eat  them.     And  then  I  felt 
altogether  the  force  of  the  maxim  of  St.  Ambrose,  "  Non 
in    dialectica    complacuit    Deo    salvum    facere    populum 
suum  ;  "  — I  had  a  great  dislike  of  paper  logic.    For  myself, 
it  was  not  logic  that  carried  me  on  ;    as  well  might  one 
say  that  the  quicksilver  in  the   barometer  changes  the 
weather.     It  is  the   concrete   being  that  reasons  ;    pass  30 
a  number  of  years,  and  I  find  my  mind  in  a  new  place ; 
how  ?   the  whole  man  moves  ;  paper  logic  is  but  the  record 
of  it.    All  the  logic  in  the  world  would  not  have  made  me 
move  faster  towards  Rome  than  I  did  ;   as  well  might  you 
say  that  I  have  arrived  at  the  end  of  my  journey,  because 
I  see  the  village  church  before  me,  as  venture  to  assert 
that  the  miles,  over  which  my  soul  had  to  pass  before  it 
got  to  Rome,  could  be  annihilated,  even  though  I  had  had 

16  I]  my  head  17  clearness]  strength 

23  touched]  troubled  24  made  to  eat]  forced  to  recognize 

38  had  had]  had  been  in  possession  of 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  265 

some  far  clearer  view  than  I  then  had,  that  Rome  was  my 
ultimate  destination.  Great  acts  take  time.  At  least  this 
is  what  I  felt  in  my  own  case  ;  and  therefore  to  come  to 
me  with  methods  of  logic,  had  in  it  the  nature  of  a  pro 
vocation,  and,  though  I  do  not  think  I  ever  showed  it, 
made  me  somewhat  indifferent  how  I  met  them,  and 
perhaps  led  me,  as  a  means  of  relieving  my  impatience,  to 
be  mysterious  or  irrelevant,  or  to  give  in  because  I  could 
not  reply.  And  a  greater  trouble  still  than  these  logical 
10  mazes,  was  the  introduction  of  logic  into  every  subject 
whatever,  so  far,  that  is,  as  it  was  done.  Before  I  was  at 
Oriel,  I  recollect  an  acquaintance  saying  to  me  that  "  the 
Oriel  Common  Room  stank  of  Logic."  One  is  not  at  all 
pleased  when  poetry,  or  eloquence,  or  devotion,  is  con 
sidered  as  if  chiefly  intended  to  feed  syllogisms.  Now,  in 
saying  all  this,  I  am  saying  nothing  against  the  deep  piety 
and  earnestness  which  were  characteristics  of  this  second 
phase  of  the  Movement,  in  which  I  have  taken  so  promi 
nent  a  part.  What  I  have  been  observing  is,  that  this 
20  phase  had  a  tendency  to  bewilder  and  to  upset  me,  and, 
that  instead  of  saying  so,  as  I  ought  to  have  done,  in  a  sort 
of  easiness  [,  for  what  I  know]  I  gave  answers  at  random, 
which  have  led  to  my  appearing  close  or  inconsistent. 

I  have  turned  up  two  letters  of  this  period,  which  in  a  mea 
sure  illustrate  what  I  have  been  saying.  The  first  is  what 
I  said  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  on  occasion  of  Tract  90  : 

"  March  20,  1841.  No  one  can  enter  into  my  situation 
but  myself.  I  see  a  great  many  minds  working  in  various 
directions  and  a  variety  of  principles  with  multiplied  bear- 
so  ings  ;  I  act  for  the  best.  I  sincerely  think  that  matters 
would  not  have  gone  better  for  the  Church,  had  I  never 
written.  And  if  I  write  I  have  a  choice  of  difficulties.  It 
is  easy  for  those  who  do  not  enter  into  those  difficulties  to 
say,  '  He  ought  to  say  this  and  not  say  that,'  but  things 
are  wonderfully  linked  together,  and  I  cannot,  or  rather 
I  would  not  be  dishonest.  When  persons  too  interrogate 
me,  I  am  obliged  in  many  cases  to  give  an  opinion,  or 
I  seem  to  be  underhand.  Keeping  silence  looks  like  artifice. 

9  reply]  meet  them  to  my  satisfaction  18  have  taken  1864] 

had  taken  1864  (another  copy),  1865.  21  in]  perhaps  from 

22  easiness]  laziness  25,  26  is  what  I  said]  was  written 

K3 


266  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

And  I  do  not  like  people  to  consult  or  respect  me,  from 
thinking  differently  of  my  opinions  from  what  I  know  them 
to  be.  And  (again  to  use  the  proverb)  what  is  one  man's 
food  is  another  man's  poison.  All  these  things  make  my 
situation  very  difficult.  But  that  collision  must  at  some 
time  ensue  between  members  of  the  Church  of  opposite 
sentiments,  I  have  long  been  aware.  The  time  and  mode 
has  been  in  the  hand  of  Providence  ;  I  do  not  mean  to 
exclude  my  own  great  imperfections  in  bringing  it  about  ; 
yet  I  still  feel  obliged  to  think  the  Tract  necessary .(")  10 

["  Dr.  Pusey  has  shown  me  your  Lordship's  letters  to 
him.  I  am  most  desirous  of  saying  in  print  any  thing 
which  I  can  honestly  say  to  remove  false  impressions 
created  by  the  Tract."] 

The  second  is  part  of  the  notes  of  a  letter  (which  I)  sent 
to  Dr.  Pusey  in  the  next  year  : 

"  October  16,  1842.  As  to  my  being  entirely  with 
A.  B.,  I  do  not  know  the  limits  of  my  own  opinions.  If 
A.  B.  says  that  this  or  that  is  a  development  from  what 
I  have  said,  I  cannot  say  Yes  or  No.  It  is  plausible,  it  20 
may  be  true.  Of  course  the  fact  that  the  Roman  Church 
has  so  developed  and  maintained,  adds  great  weight  to 
the  antecedent  plausibility.  I  cannot  assert  that  it  is  not 
true  ;  but  I  cannot,  with  that  keen  perception  which  some 
people  have,  appropriate  it.  It  is  a  nuisance  to  me  to  be 
forced  beyond  what  I  can  fairly  accept." 

There  was  another  source  of  the  perplexity  with  which 
at  this  time  I  was  encompassed,  and  of  the  reserve  and 
mysteriousness,  of  which  it  gave  me  the  credit.  After 
Tract  90  the  Protestant  world  would  not  let  me  alone  ;  so 
they  pursued  me  in  the  public  journals  to  Littlemore. 
Reports  of  all  kinds  were  circulated  about  me.  "  Imprimis, 
why  did  I  go  up  to  Littlemore  at  all  ?  For  no  good  purpose 
certainly  ;  I  dared  not  tell  why."  Why,  to  be  sure,  it- 
was  hard  that  I  should  be  obliged  to  say  to  the  Editors  of 
newspapers  that  I  went  up  there  to  say  my  prayers  ;  it 
was  hard  to  have  to  tell  the  world  in  confidence,  that  I  had 
a  certain  doubt  about  the  Anglican  system,  and  could  not 
at  that  moment  resolve  it,  or  say  what  would  come  of  it  ; 

15  part  of]  taken  from  18, 19  A.  B.  1864]  A.  1865,  Ward  1873  26  A  space 
was  left  after  this  line  in  1865.  29  it  gave]  that  perplexity  gained  for 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  267 

it  was  hard  to  have  to  confess  that  I  had  thought  of  giving 
up  my  Living  a  year  or  two  before,  and  that  this  was  a  first 
step  to  it.  It  was  hard  to  have  to  plead,  that,  for  what 
I  knew,  my  doubts  would  vanish,  if  the  newspapers  would 
be  so  good  as  to  give  me  time  and  let  me  alone.  Who 
would  ever  dream  of  making  the  world  his  confidant  ?  yet 
I  was  considered  insidious,  sly,  dishonest,  if  I  would  not 
open  my  heart  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  world.  But 
they  persisted  :  "  What  was  I  doing  at  Littlemore  ?  " 

10  Doing  there  ?  have  I  not  retreated  from  you  ?  have  I  not 
given  up  my  position  and  my  place  ?  am  I  alone,  of 
Englishmen,  not  to  have  the  privilege  to  go  where  I  will, 
no  questions  asked  ?  am  I  alone  to  be  followed  about  by 
jealous  prying  eyes,  who  note  down  whether  I  go  in  at 
a  back  door  or  at  the  front,  and  who  the  men  are  who 
happen  to  call  on  me  in  the  afternoon  ?  Cowards  !  if 
I  advanced  one  step,  you  would  run  away  ;  it  is  not  you 
that  I  fear  :  "  Di  me  terrent,  et  Jupiter  hostis."  It  is 
because  the  Bishops  still  go  on  charging  against  me,  though 

20  I  have  quite  given  up  :  it  is  that  secret  misgiving  of  heart 
which  tells  me  that  they  do  well,  for  I  have  neither  lot  nor 
part  with  them  :  this  it  is  which  weighs  me  down.  I  cannot 
walk  into  or  out  of  my  house,  but  curious  eyes  are  upon  me. 
Why  will  you  not  let  me  die  in  peace  ?  Wounded  brutes 
creep  into  some  hole  to  die  in,  and  no  one  grudges  it  them. 
Let  me  alone,  I  shall  not  trouble  you  long.  This  was  the 
keen  [heavy]  feeling  which  pierced  me,  and,  I  think,  these 
are  the  very  words  that  I  used  to  myself.  I  asked,  in  the 
words  of  a  great  motto,  "  Ubi  lapsus  ?  quid  feci  ?  "  One 

so  day  when  I  entered  my  house,  I  found  a  flight  of  Under 
graduates  inside.  Heads  of  Houses,  as  mounted  patrols, 
walked  their  horses  round  those  poor  cottages.  Doctors  of 
Divinity  dived  into  the  hidden  recesses  of  that  private 
tenement  uninvited,  and  drew  domestic  conclusions  from 
what  they  saw  there.  I  had  thought  that  an  Englishman's 
house  was  his  castle  ;  but  the  newspapers  thought  other 
wise,  and  at  last  the  matter  came  before  my  good  Bishop. 
I  insert  his  letter,  and  a  portion  of  my  reply  to  him  :— 
"  April  12,  1842.  So  many  of  the  charges  against  your- 

10  there  ?]  there  !  28  that  I  used]  in  which  I  expressed  it 


268  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

self  and  your  friends  which  I  have  seen  in  the  public 
journals  have  been,  within  my  own  knowledge,  false  and 
calumnious,  that  I  am  not  apt  to  pay  much  attention  to 
what  is  asserted  with  respect  to  you  in  the  newspapers. 

"  In  a  "  [newspaper]  "  however,  of  April  9,  there  appears 
a  paragraph  in  which  it  is  asserted,  as  a  matter  of  notoriety, 
that  a  '  so-called  Anglo -Catholic  Monastery  is  in  process 
of  erection  at  Littlemore,  and  that  the  cells  of  dormitories, 
the  chapel,  the  refectory,  the  cloisters  all  may  be  seen 
advancing  to  perfection,  under  the  eye  of  a  Parish  Priest  of  10 
the  Diocese  of  Oxford.' 

"  Now,  as  I  have  understood  that  you  really  are  possessed 
of  some  tenements  at  Littlemore, — as  it  is  generally  believed 
that  they  are  destined  for  the  purposes  of  study  and 
devotion, — and  as  much  suspicion  and  jealousy  are  felt 
about  the  matter,  I  am  anxious  to  afford  you  an  oppor 
tunity  of  making  me  an  explanation  on  the  subject. 

"  I  know  you  too  well  not  to  be  aware  that  you  are  the 
last  man  living  to  attempt  in  my  Diocese  a  revival  of  the 
Monastic  orders  (in  any  thing  approaching  to  the  Romanist  20 
sense  of  the  term)  without  previous  communication  with 
m6j — or  indeed  that  you  should  take  upon  yourself  to 
originate  any  measure  of  importance  without  authority 
from  the  heads  of  the  Church, — and  therefore  I  at  once 
exonerate  you  from  the  accusation  brought  against  you  by 
the  newspaper  I  have  quoted,  but  I  feel  it  nevertheless 
a  duty  to  my  Diocese  and  myself,  as  well  as  to  you,  to  ask 
you  to  put  it  in  my  power  to  contradict  what,  if  uncon- 
tradicted,  would  appear  to  imply  a  glaring  invasion  of  all 
ecclesiastical  discipline  on  your  part,  or  of  ^inexcusable  so 
neglect  and  indifference  to  my  duties  on  mine." 

(I  wrote  in  answer  as  follows  : — } 

"  April  14,  1842.  I  am  very  much  obliged  by  your 
Lordship's  kindness  in  allowing  me  to  write  to  you  on  the 
subject  of  my  house  at  Littlemore  ;  at  the  same  time  I  feel 
it  hard  both  on  your  Lordship  and  myself  that  the  restless 
ness  of  the  public  mind  should  oblige  you  to  require  an 
explanation  of  me. 

5  These  are  the  Author's  [  ].  In  1865  the  a  before  newspaper  was 
placed  within  the  [  ]. 

31  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1864,  filled  up  in  1865  by  the 
short  line  82  here  given  between  (  >. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  269 

"It  is  now  a  whole  year  that  I  have  been  the  subject 
of  incessant  misrepresentation.  A  year  since  I  submitted 
entirely  to  your  Lordship's  authority  ;  and  with  the  inten 
tion  of  following  out  the  particular  act  enjoined  upon  me, 
I  not  only  stopped  the  series  of  Tracts,  on  which  I  was 
engaged,  but  withdrew  from  all  public  discussion  of  Church 
matters  of  the  day,  or  what  may  be  called  ecclesiastical 
politics.  I  turned  myself  at  once  to  the  preparation  for 
the  Press  of  the  translations  of  St.  Athanasius  to  which 

10 1  had  long  wished  to  devote  myself,  and  I  intended  and 
intend  to  employ  myself  in  the  like  theological  studies, 
and  in  the  concerns  of  my  own  parish  and  in  practical 
works. 

"  With  the  same  view  of  personal  improvement  I  was 
led  more  seriously  to  a  design  which  had  been  long  on  my 
mind.  For  many  years,  at  least  thirteen,  I  have  wished 
to  give  myself  to  a  life  of  greater  religious  regularity  than 
I  have  hitherto  led  ;  but  it  is  very  unpleasant  to  confess 
such  a  wish  even  to  my  Bishop,  because  it  seems  arrogant, 

20  and  because  it  is  committing  me  to  a  profession  which 
may  come  to  nothing.  For  what  have  I  done  that  I  am  to 
be  called  to  account  by  the  world  for  my  private  actions, 
in  a  way  in  which  no  one  else  is  called  ?  Why  may  I  not 
have  that  liberty  which  all  others  are  allowed  ?  I  am 
often  accused  of  being  underhand  and  uncandid  in  respect 
to  the  intentions  to  which  I  have  been  alluding  :  but  no 
one  likes  his  own  good  resolutions  noised  about,  both  from 
mere  common  delicacy  and  from  fear  lest  he  should  not  be 
able  to  fulfil  them.  I  feel  it  very  cruel,  though  the  parties  in 

so  fault  do  not  know  what  they  are  doing,  that  very  sacred 
matters  between  me  and  my  conscience  are  made  a  matter 
of  public  talk.  May  I  take  a  case  parallel  though  different  ? 
suppose  a  person  in  prospect  of  marriage  ;  would  he  like 
the  subject  discussed  in  newspapers,  and  parties,  circum 
stances,  &c.,  &c.,  publicly  demanded  of  him,  at  the  penalty 
of  being  accused  of  craft  and  duplicity  ? 

"  The  resolution  I  speak  of  has  been  taken  with  refer 
ence  to  myself  alone,  and  has  been  contemplated  quite 
independent  of  the  co-operation  of  any  other  human  being, 

40  and  without  reference  to  success  or  failure  other  than 
personal,  and  without  regard  to  the  blame  or  approbation 


270  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

of  man.  And  being  a  resolution  of  years,  and  one  to  which 
I  feel  God  has  called  me,  and  in  which  I  am  violating  no 
rule  of  the  Church  any  more  than  if  I  married,  I  should 
have  to  answer  for  it,  if  I  did  not  pursue  it,  as  a  good 
Providence  made  openings  for  it.  In  pursuing  it  then  I  am 
thinking  of  myself  alone,  not  aiming  at  any  ecclesiastical  or 
external  effects.  At  the  same  time  of  course  it  would  be 
a  great  comfort  to  me  to  know  that  God  had  put  it  into 
the  hearts  of  others  to  pursue  their  personal  edification  in 
the  same  way,  and  unnatural  not  to  wish  to  have  the  10 
benefit  of  their  presence  and  encouragement,  or  not  to 
think  it  a  great  infringement  on  the  rights  of  conscience 
if  such  personal  and  private  resolutions  were  interfered 
with.  Your  Lordship  will  allow  me  to  add  my  firm  con 
viction  that  such  religious  resolutions  are  most  necessary 
for  keeping  a  certain  class  of  minds  firm  in  their  allegiance 
to  our  Church  ;  but  still  I  can  as  truly  say  that  my  own 
reason  for  any  thing  I  have  done  has  been  a  personal  one, 
without  which  I  should  not  have  entered  upon  it,  and 
which  I  hope  to  pursue  whether  with  or  without  the  sym-  20 
pathies  of  others  pursuing  a  similar  course. ["]  .... 

"  As  to  my  intentions,  I  purpose  to  live  there  myself 
a  good  deal,  as  I  have  a  resident  curate  in  Oxford.  In 
doing  this,  I  believe  I  am  consulting  for  the  good  of  my 
parish,  as  my  population  at  Littlemore  is  at  least  equal  to 
that  of  St.  Mary's  in  Oxford,  and  the  whole  of  Littlemore 
is  double  of  it.  It  has  been  very  much  neglected  ;  and  in 
providing  a  parsonage-house  at  Littlemore,  as  this  will  be, 
and  will  be  called,  I  conceive  I  am  doing  a  very  great 
benefit  to  my  people.  At  the  same  time  it  has  appeared  to  so 
me  that  a  partial  or  temporary  retirement  from  St.  Mary's 
Church  might  be  expedient  under  the  prevailing  excite 
ment. 

"  As  to  the  quotation  from  the  [newspaper]  which  I  have 
not  seen,  your  Lordship  will  perceive  from  what  I  have 
said,  that  no  '  monastery  is  in  process  of  erection  ;  '  there 
is  no  '  chapel  ;  '  no  '  refectory,'  hardly  a  dining-room  or 
parlour.  The  '  cloisters  '  are  my  shed  connecting  the 
cottages.  I  do  not  understand  what  '  cells  of  dormitories  ' 

34  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  271 

means.  Of  course  I  can  repeat  your  Lordship's  words  that 
*  I  am  not  attempting  a  revival  of  the  Monastic  Orders,  in 
any  thing  approaching  to  the  Romanist  sense  of  the  term,' 
or  '  taking  on  myself  to  originate  any  measure  of  import 
ance  without  authority  from  the  Heads  of  the  Church.' 
I  am  attempting  nothing  ecclesiastical,  but  something 
personal  and  private,  and  which  can  only  be  made  public, 
not  private,  by  newspapers  and  letter-writers,  in  which 
sense  the  most  sacred  and  conscientious  resolves  and  acts 
10  may  certainly  be  made  the  objects  of  an  unmannerly  and 
unfeeling  curiosity." 

One  calumny  there  was  which  the  Bishop  did  not 
believe,  and  of  which  of  course  he  had  no  idea  of  speaking. 
It  was  that  I  was  actually  in  the  service  of  the  enemy. 
I  had  (forsooth)  been  already  received  into  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  was  rearing  at  Littlemore  a  nest  of  Papists, 
who,  like  me,  were  to  take  the  Anglican  oaths  which  they 
did  not  believe,  and  for  which  they  got  dispensation  from 
Rome,  and  thus  in  due  time  were  to  bring  over  to  that 
20  unprincipled  Church  great  numbers  of  the  Anglican  Clergy 
and  Laity.  Bishops  gave  their  countenance  to  this  impu 
tation  against  me.  The  case  was  simply  this  : — as  I  made 
Littlemore  a  place  of  retirement  for  myself,  so  did  I  offer 
it  to  others.  There  were  young  men  in  Oxford,  whose 
testimonials  for  Orders  had  been  refused  by  their  Colleges  ; 
there  were  young  clergymen,  who  had  found  themselves 
unable  from  conscience  to  go  on  with  their  duties,  and  had 
thrown  up  their  parochial  engagements.  Such  men  were 
already  going  straight  to  Rome,  and  I  interposed  ;  I  inter- 
so  posed  for  the  reasons  I  have  given  in  the  beginning  of  this 
portion  of  my  narrative.  I  interposed  from  fidelity  to  my 
clerical  engagements,  and  from  duty  to  my  Bishop  ;  and 
from  the  interest  which  I  was  bound  to  take  in  them,  and 
from  belief  that  they  were  premature  or  excited.  Their 
friends  besought  me  to  quiet  them,  if  I  could.  Some  of 
them  came  to  live  with  me  at  Littlemore.  They  were 
laymen,  or  in  the  place  of  laymen.  I  kept  some  of  them 
back  for  several  years  from  being  received  into  the  Catholic 
Church.  Even  when  I  had  given  up  my  living,  I  was  still 

11  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865. 

18  did  not  believe,  and  for  which  they  got]  disbelieved,  by  virtue  of  a 


272  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

bound  by  my  duty  to  their  parents  or  friends,  and  I  did  not 
forget  still  to  do  what  I  could  for  them.  The  immediate 
occasion  of  my  resigning  St.  Mary's,  was  the  unexpected 
conversion  of  one  of  them.  After  that,  I  felt  it  was  im 
possible  to  keep  my  post  there,  for  I  had  been  unable  to 
keep  my  word  with  my  Bishop. 

The  following  letters  refer,  more  or  less,  to  these  men, 
whether  they  were  (actually)  with  me  at  Littlemore  or  not : — 

(1.  "March  6,  1842.  Church  doctrines  are  a  powerful 
weapon  ;  they  were  not  sent  into  the  world  for  nothing.  10 
God's  word  does  not  return  unto  Him  void  :  If  I  have 
said,  as  I  have,  that  the  doctrines  of  the  Tracts  for  the 
Times  would  build  up  our  Church  and  destroy  parties, 
I  meant,  if  they  were  used,  not  if  they  were  denounced. 
Else,  they  will  be  as  powerful  against  us,  as  they  might 
be  powerful  for  us. 

("  If  people  who  have  a  liking  for  another,  hear  him 
called  a  Roman  Catholic,  they  will  say,  '  Then  after  all 
Romanism  is  no  such  bad  thing.'  All  these  persons,  who 
are  making  the  cry,  are  fulfilling  their  own  prophecy.  20 
If  all  the  world  agree  in  telling  a  man,  he  has  no  business 
in  our  Church,  he  will  at  length  begin  to  think  he  has 
none.  How  easy  is  it  to  persuade  a  man  of  any  thing, 
when  numbers  affirm  it !  so  great  is  the  force  of  imagina 
tion.  Did  every  one  who  met  you  in  the  streets  look  hard 
at  you,  you  would  think  you  were  somehow  in  fault.  I  do 
not  know  any  thing  so  irritating,  so  unsettling,  especially 
in  the  case  of  young  persons,  as,  when  they  are  going  on 
calmly  and  unconsciously,  obeying  their  Church  and  follow 
ing  its  divines,  (I  am  speaking  from  facts,)  as  suddenly  to  so 
their  surprise  to  be  conjured  not  to  make  a  leap,  of  which 
they  have  not  a  dream  and  from  which  they  are  far 
removed.") 

1.  1843  or  1844.  "  I  did  not  explain  to  you  sufficiently 
the  state  of  mind  of  those  who  were  in  danger.  I  only 
spoke  of  those  who  were  convinced  that  our  Church  was 
external  to  the  Church  Catholic,  though  they  felt  it  unsafe 
to  trust  their  own  private  convictions  ;  but  there  are  two 
other  states  of  mind ;  1 .  that  of  those  who  are  unconsciously 
near  Rome,  and  whose  despair  about  our  Church  would  at  40 

34  i.]  2. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  273 

once  develope  into  a  state  of  conscious  approximation, 
or  a  quasi-Yesolution  to  go  over  ;  2.  those  who  feel  they 
can  with  a  safe  conscience  remain  with  us  while  they 
are  allowed  to  testify  in  behalf  of  Catholicism,  i.e.  as  if 
by  such  acts  they  were  putting  our  Church,  or  at  least  that 
portion  of  it  in  which  they  were  included,  in  the  position  of 
catechumens." 

(3.  "  June  20,  1843.  I  return  the  very  pleasing  letter 
you  have  permitted  me  to  read.  What  a  sad  thing  it  is, 

10  that  it  should  be  a  plain  duty  to  restrain  one's  sympathies, 
and  to  keep  them  from  boiling  over  ;  but  I  suppose  it  is 
a  matter  of  common  prudence. 

("  Things  are  very  serious  here  ;  but  I  should  not  like 
you  to  say  so,  as  it  might  do  no  good.  The  Authorities 
find,  that,  by  the  Statutes,  they  have  more  than  military 
power  »  and  the  general  impression  seems  to  be,  that  they 
intend  to  exert  it,  and  put  down  Catholicism  at  any  risk. 
I  believe  that  by  the  Statutes,  they  can  pretty  nearly  sus 
pend  a  Preacher,  as  seditiosus  or  causing  dissension,  without 

20  assigning  their  grounds  in  the  particular  case,  nay,  banish 
him,  or  imprison  him.  If  so,  all  holders  of  preferment  in 
the  University  should  make  as  quiet  an  exit  as  they  can. 
There  is  more  exasperation  on  both  sides  at  this  moment, 
as  I  am  told,  than  ever  there  was."} 

2.  "  July  16,  1843.  I  assure  you  that  I  feel,  with  only 
too  much  sympathy,  what  you  say.  You  need  not  be  told 
that  the  whole  subject  of  our  position  is  a  subject  of 
anxiety  to  others  beside  yourself.  It  is  no  good  attempting 
to  offer  advice,  when  perhaps  I  might  raise  difficulties 

so  instead  of  removing  them.  It  seems  to  me  quite  a  case, 
in  which  you  should,  as  far  as  may  be,  make  up  your  mind 
for  yourself.  Come  to  Littlemore  by  all  means.  We  shall 
all  rejoice  in  your  company  ;  and,  if  quiet  and  retirement 
are  able,  as  they  very  likely  will  be,  to  reconcile  you  to 
things  as  they  are,  you  shall  have  your  fill  of  them.  How 
distressed  poor  Henry  Wilberforce  must  be  !  Knowing 
how  he  values  you,  I  feel  for  him  ;  but,  alas  !  he  has  his 
own  position,  and  every  one  else  has  his  own,  and  the 
misery  is  that  no  two  of  us  have  exactly  the  same. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  be  so  frank  and  open  with  me, 
25  2.]  4. 


274  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

as  you  are  ;  but  this  is  a  time  which  throws  together  persons 
who  feel  alike.  May  I  without  taking  a  liberty  sign  myself, 
yours  affectionately,  &c." 

(In  1865  the  paragraph  on  p.  275  numbered  5  was  inserted 
here,  the  numeral  of  course  remaining  unaltered.) 

3.  "  (June  17,)  1845.    I  am  concerned  to  find  you  speak 
of  me  in  a  tone  of  distrust.    If  you  knew  me  ever  so  little, 
instead  of  hearing  of  me  from  persons  who  do  not  know 
me  at  all,  you  would  think  differently  of  me,  whatever  you 
thought  of  my  opinions.    Two  years  since,  I  got  your  son  10 
to  tell  you  my  intention  of  resigning  St.  Mary's,  before 

I  made  it  public,  thinking  you  ought  to  know  it.  When 
you  expressed  some  painful  feeling  upon  it,  I  told  him 
I  could  not  consent  to  his  remaining  here,  painful  as  it 
would  be  to  me  to  part  with  him,  without  your  written 
sanction.  And  this  you  did  me  the  favour  to  give. 

"  I  believe  you  will  find  that  it  has  been  merely  a  delicacy 
on  your  son's  part,  which  has  delayed  his  speaking  to  you 
about  me  for  two  months  past  ;   a  delicacy,  lest  he  should 
say  either  too  much  or  too  little  about  me.    I  have  urged  20 
him  several  times  to  speak  to  you. 

"  Nothing  can  be  done  after  your  letter,  but  to  recom 
mend  him  to  go  to  A.  B.  (his  home)  at  once.  I  am  very 
sorry  to  part  with  him." 

4.  The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  a  Catholic  Prelate, 
who  accused  me  of  coldness  in  my  conduct  towards  him  :— 

"  April  16,  1845.  I  was  at  that  time  in  charge  of 
a  ministerial  office  in  the  English  Church,  with  persons 
entrusted  to  me,  and  a  Bishop  to  obey  ;  how  could  I  possibly 
write  otherwise  than  I  did  without  violating  sacred  obliga-  30 
tions  and  betraying  momentous  interests  which  were  upon 
me  ?  I  felt  that  my  immediate,  undeniable  duty,  clear 
if  any  thing  was  clear,  was  to  fulfil  that  trust.  It  might 
be  right  indeed  to  give  it  up,  that  was  another  thing  ;  but 
it  never  could  be  right  to  hold  it,  and  to  act  as  if  I  did  not 

hold  it If  you  knew  me,  you  would  acquit  me, 

I  think,  of  having  ever  felt  towards  your  Lordship  (in) 
an  unfriendly  spirit,  or  ever  having  had  a  shadow  on  my 
mind  (as  far  as  I  dare  witness  about  myself)  of  what  might 

6  3.]  6.  25  4.]  7. 

25  a  Catholic  Prelate]  Cardinal  Wiseman,  then  Vicar  Apostolic 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  275 

be  called  controversial  rivalry  or  desire  of  getting  the 
better,  or  fear  lest  the  world  should  think  I  had  got  the 
worst,  or  irritation  of  any  kind.  You  are  too  kind  indeed 
to  imply  this,  and  yet  your  words  lead  me  to  say  it.  And 
now  in  like  manner,  pray  believe,  though  I  cannot  explain 
it  to  you,  that  I  am  encompassed  with  responsibilities,  so 
great  and  so  various,  as  utterly  to  overcome  me,  unless 
I  have  mercy  from  Him,  who  all  through  my  life  has  sus 
tained  and  guided  me,  and  to  whom  I  can  now  submit 

10  myself,  though  men  of  all  parties  are  thinking  evil  of  me." 
5.  "  August  30,  1843.  A.  B.  has  suddenly  conformed 
to  the  Church  of  Rome.  He  was  away  for  three  weeks. 
I  suppose  I  must  say  in  my  defence,  that  he  promised  me 
distinctly  to  remain  in  our  Church  three  years,  before 
I  received  him  here." 

Such  fidelity,  however,  was  taken  in  malam  partem  by 
the  high  Anglican  authorities  ;  they  thought  it  insidious. 
I  happen  still  to  have  a  correspondence  (which  took  place 
in  1843),  in  which  the  chief  place  is  filled  by  one  of  the  most 

20  eminent  Bishops  of  the  day,  a  theologian  and  reader  of 
the  Fathers,  a  moderate  man,  who  at  one  time  was  talked 
of  as  likely  to  have  the  reversion  of  the  Primacy.  A  young 
clergyman  in  his  diocese  became  a  Catholic  ;  the  papers 
at  once  reported  on  authority  from  "  a  very  high  quarter," 
that,  after  his  reception,  "  the  Oxford  men  had  been  recom 
mending  him  to  retain  his  living."  I  had  reasons  for 
thinking  that  the  allusion  was  (made)  to  me,  and  I  author 
ized  the  Editor  of  a  Paper,  who  had  inquired  of  me  on  the 
point,  to  "  give  it,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned,  an  unqualified 

so  contradiction  ;  " — when  from  a  motive  of  delicacy  he 
hesitated,  I  added  "  my  direct  and  indignant  contradic 
tion."  "  Whoever  is  the  author  of  it,("  I  continued  to 
the  Editor,  ")no  correspondence  or  intercourse  of  any 
kind,  direct  or  indirect,  has  passed[,"  I  continued  to  the 
Editor,  "]between  Mr.  S.  and  myself,  since  his  conforming 
to  the  Church  of  Rome,  except  my  formally  and  merely 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  his  letter,  in  which  he  informed 

3  worst]  worse 

10  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865,  the  paragraph  numbered  5 
being  transferred  to  precede  what  was  paragraph  3  in  1864  (6  in  1865). 
22  to  have  the  reversion  of]  on  a  vacancy  to  succeed  to 


276  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

me  of  the  fact,  without,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  my  expressing 
any  opinion  upon  it.  You  may  state  this  as  broadly  as 
I  have  set  it  down."  My  denial  was  told  to  the  Bishop  ; 
what  took  place  upon  it  is  given  in  a  letter  from  which 
I  copy.  "  My  father  showed  the  letter  to  the  Bishop,  who, 
as  he  laid  it  down,  said,  '  Ah,  those  Oxford  men  are  not 
ingenuous/  '  How  do  you  mean  ?  '  asked  my  father. 
*  Why,'  said  the  Bishop,  '  they  advised  Mr.  B.  S.  to  retain 
his  living  after  he  turned  Catholic.  I  know  that  to  be  a 
fact,  because  A.  B.  told  me  so.'  '  "  The  Bishop,"  continues  10 
the  letter,  "  who  is  perhaps  the  most  influential  man  in 
reality  on  the  bench,  evidently  believes  it  to  be  the  truth." 
(Upon  this)  Dr.  Pusey  [too]  wrote  for  me  to  the  Bishop  ; 
and  the  Bishop  instantly  beat  a  retreat.  "  I  have  the 
honour,"  he  says  in  the  autograph  which  I  transcribe, 
"  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  note,  and  to  say  in 
reply  that  it  has  not  been  stated  by  me,  (though  such 
a  statement  has,  I  believe,  appeared  in  some  of  the  Public 
Prints,)  that  Mr.  Newman  had  advised  Mr.  B.  S.  to  retain 
his  living,  after  he  had  forsaken  our  Church.  But  it  has  20 
been  stated  to  me,  that  Mr.  Newman  was  in  close  correspon 
dence  with  Mr.  B.  S.,  and,  being  fully  aware  of  his  state 
of  opinions  and  feelings,  yet  advised  him  to  continue  in  our 
communion.  Allow  me  to  add,"  he  says  to  Dr.  Pusey, 
"  that  neither  your  name,  nor  that  of  Mr.  Keble,  was 
mentioned  to  me  in  connexion  with  that  of  Mr.  B.  S." 

I  was  not  going  to  let  the  Bishop  off  on  this  evasion, 
so  I  wrote  to  him  myself.  After  quoting  his  Letter  to 
Dr.  Pusey,  I  continued,  "  I  beg  to  trouble  your  Lordship 
with  my  own  account  of  the  two  allegations "  [close  so 
correspondence  and  fully  aware,  &c.]  "which  are  contained 
in  your  statement,  and  which  have  led  to  your  speaking 
of  me  in  terms  which  I  hope  never  to  deserve.  1.  Since 
Mr.  B.  S.  has  been  in  your  Lordship's  diocese,  I  have  seen 
him  in  common  rooms  or  private  parties  in  Oxford  two  or 
three  times,  when  I  never  (as  far  (as)  I  can  recollect)  had 
any  conversation  with  him.  During  the  same  time  I  have, 
to  the  best  of  my  memory,  written  to  him  three  letters. 
One  was  lately,  in  acknowledgment  of  his  informing  me  of 

13  for  me]  in  my  behalf  30,  31  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 

35  common]  Common 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  277 

his  change  of  religion.  Another  was  last  summer,  when 
I  asked  him  (to  no  purpose)  to  come  and  stay  with  me  in 
this  place.  The  earliest  of  the  three  letters  was  written 
just  a  year  since,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  and  it  certainly  was 
on  the  subject  of  his  joining  the  Church  of  Home.  I  wrote 
this  letter  at  the  earnest  wish  of  a  friend  of  his.  I  cannot 
be  sure  that,  on  his  replying,  I  did  not  send  him  a  brief 
note  in  explanation  of  points  in  my  letter  which  he  had 
misapprehended.  I  cannot  recollect  any  other  correspon- 

10  dence  between  us. 

"2.  As  to  my  knowledge  of  his  opinions  and  feelings, 
as  far  as  I  remember,  the  only  point  of  perplexity  which 
I  knew,  the  only  point  which  to  this  hour  I  know,  as  pressing 
upon  him,  was  that  of  the  Pope's  supremacy.  He  professed 
to  be  searching  Antiquity  whether  the  see  of  Rome  had 
formally  that  relation  to  the  whole  Church  which  Roman 
Catholics  now  assign  to  it.  My  letter  was  directed  to  the 
point,  that  it  was  his  duty  not  to  perplex  himself  with 
arguments  on  [such]  a  question,  .  .  .  and  to  put  it  altogether 

20  aside.  ...  It  is  hard  that  I  am  put  upon  my  memory, 
without  knowing  the  details  of  the  statement  made  against 
me,  considering  the  various  correspondence  in  which  I  am 
from  time  to  time  unavoidably  engaged.  ...  Be  assured, 
my  Lord,  that  there  are  very  definite  limits,  beyond  which 
persons  like  me  would  never  urge  another  to  retain  prefer 
ment  in  the  English  Church,  nor  would  retain  it  themselves  ; 
and  that  the  censure  which  has  been  directed  against  them 
by  so  many  of  its  Rulers  has  a  very  grave  bearing  upon 
those  limits."  The  Bishop  replied  in  a  civil  letter,  and 

so  sent  my  own  letter  to  his  original  informant,  who  wrote  to 
me  the  letter  of  a  gentleman.  It  seems  that  an  anxious 
lady  had  said  something  or  other  which  had  been  misinter 
preted,  against  her  real  meaning,  into  the  calumny  which 
was  circulated,  and  so  the  report  vanished  into  thin  air. 
I  closed  the  correspondence  with  the  following  Letter  to 
the  Bishop  : — 

"  I  hope  your  Lordship  will  believe  me  when  I  say,  that 
statements  about  me,  equally  incorrect  with  that  which 
has  come  to  your  Lordship's  ears,  are  from  time  to  time 

16  formally]  formerly  19  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


278  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

reported  to  me  as  credited  and  repeated  by  the  highest 
authorities  in  our  Church,  though  it  is  very  seldom  that 
I  have  the  opportunity  of  denying  them.  I  am  obliged  by 
your  Lordship's  letter  to  Dr.  Pusey  as  giving  me  such 
an  opportunity."  Then  I  added,  with  a  purpose,  "  Your 
Lordship  will  observe  that  in  my  Letter  I  had  no  occasion 
to  proceed  to  the  question,  whether  a  person  holding 
Roman  Catholic  opinions  can  in  honesty  remain  in  our 
Church.  Lest  then  any  misconception  should  arise  from 
my  silence,  I  here  take  the  liberty  of  adding,  that  I  see  10 
nothing  wrong  in  such  a  person's  continuing  in  communion 
with  us,  provided  he  holds  no  preferment  or  office,  abstains 
from  the  management  of  ecclesiastical  matters,  and  is 
bound  by  no  subscription  or  oath  to  our  doctrines." 

This  was  written  on  March  7,  1843,  and  was  in  anticipa 
tion  of  my  own  retirement  into  lay  communion.  This 
again  leads  me  to  a  remark  ;  for  two  years  I  was  in  lay 
communion,  not  indeed  being  a  Catholic  in  my  convictions, 
but  in  a  state  of  serious  doubt,  and  with  the  probable 
prospect  of  becoming  some  day,  what  as  yet  I  was  not.  20 
Under  these  circumstances  I  thought  the  best  thing 
I  could  do  was  to  give  up  duty  and  to  throw  myself  into 
lay  communion,  remaining  an  Anglican.  I  could  not  go  to 
Rome,  while  I  thought  what  I  did  of  the  devotions  she 
sanctioned  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  the  Saints.  I  did  not 
give  up  my  fellowship,  for  I  could  not  be  sure  that  my 
doubts  would  not  be  reduced  or  overcome,  however  unlikely 
I  thought  such  an  event.  But  I  gave  up  my  living  ;  and, 
for  two  years  before  my  conversion,  I  took  no  clerical  duty. 
My  last  Sermon  was  in  September,  1843  ;  then  I  remained  so 
at  Littlemore  in  quiet  for  two  years.  But  it  was  made 
a  subject  of  reproach  to  me  at  the  time,  and  is  at  this  day, 
that  I  did  not  leave  the  Anglican  Church  sooner.  To  me 
this  seems  a  wonderful  charge  ;  why,  even  had  I  been 
quite  sure  that  Rome  was  the  true  Church,  the  Anglican 
Bishops  would  have  had  no  just  subject  of  complaint 
against  me,  provided  I  took  no  Anglican  oath,  no  clerical 
duty,  no  ecclesiastical  administration.  Do  they  force  all 
men  who  go  to  their  Churches  to  believe  in  the  39  Articles, 

15  March  7]  March  8  28  thought]  might  consider 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  279 

or  to  join  in  the  Athanasian  Creed  ?  However,  I  was  to 
have  other  measure  dealt  to  me  ;  great  authorities  ruled 
it  so  ;  and  a  learned  controversialist  in  the  North  thought 
it  a  shame  that  I  did  not  leave  the  Church  of  England  as 
much  as  ten  years  sooner  than  I  did.  (He  said  this  in 
print  between  the  years  1847  and  1849.)  His  nephew,  an 
Anglican  clergyman,  kindly  wished  to  undeceive  him  on  this 
point.  So,  in  1850,  after  some  correspondence,  I  wrote 
the  following  letter,  which  will  be  of  service  to  this  narra- 
10  tive,  from  its  chronological  character  : — 

*  Dec.  6,  1849.  Your  uncle  says,  '  If  he  (Mr.  N.)  will 
declare,  sans  phrase,  as  the  French  say,  that  I  have 
laboured  under  an  entire  mistake,  and  that  he  was  not 
a  concealed  Romanist  during  the  ten  years  in  question,' 
(I  suppose,  the  last  ten  year*  of  my  membership  with  the 
Anglican  Church,)  '  or  during  any  part  of  the  time,  my 
controversial  antipathy  will  be  at  an  end,  and  I  will  readily 
express  to  him  that  I  am  truly  sorry  that  I  have  made 
such  a  mistake.' 

20  "So  candid  an  avowal  is  what  I  should  have  expected 
from  a  mind  like  your  uncle's.  I  am  extremely  glad  he  has 
brought  it  to  this  issue. 

"  By  a  '  concealed  Romanist '  I  understand  him  to  mean 
one,  who,  professing  to  belong  to  the  Church  of  England, 
in  his  heart  and  will  intends  to  benefit  the  Church  of  Rome, 
at  the  expense  of  the  Church  of  England.  He  cannot  mean 
by  the  expression  merely  a  person  who  in  fact  is  benefiting 
the  Church  of  Rome,  while  he  is  intending  to  benefit  the 
Church  of  England,  for  that  is  no  discredit  to  him  morally, 
so  and  he  (your  uncle)  evidently  means  to  impute  blame. 

"  In  the  sense  in  which  I  have  explained  the  words,  I  can 
simply  and  honestly  say  that  I  was  not  a  concealed 
Romanist  during  the  whole,  or  any  part  of,  the  years  in 
question. 

"  For  the  first  four  years  of  the  ten,  (up  to  Michaelmas, 
1839,)  I  honestly  wished  to  benefit  the  Church  of  England, 
at  the  expense  of  the  Church  of  Rome  : 

"  For  the  second  four  years  I  wished  to  benefit  the  Church 
of  England  without  prejudice  to  the  Church  of  Rome  : 

3  in  the  North],  Mr.  Stanley  Faber  Edition  subsequent  to  1875 
8  1850]  the  latter  year  10  character]  notes 


280  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

"  At  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  year  (Michaelmas,  1843) 
I  began  to  despair  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  gave  up 
all  clerical  duty  ;  and  then,  what  I  wrote  and  did  was 
influenced  by  a  mere  wish  not  to  injure  it,  and  not  by  the 
wish  to  benefit  it  : 

"  At  the  beginning  of  the  tenth  year  I  distinctly  con 
templated  leaving  it,  but  I  also  distinctly  told  my  friends 
that  it  was  in  my  contemplation. 

"  Lastly,  during  the  last  half  of  that  tenth  year  I  was 
engaged  in  writing  a  book  (Essay  on  Development)  in-io 
favour  of  the  Roman  Church,  and  indirectly  against  the 
English  ;  but  even  then,  till  it  was  finished,  I  had  not 
absolutely  intended  to  publish  it,  wishing  to  reserve  to 
myself  the  chance  of  changing  my  mind  when  the  argu 
mentative  views  which  were  actuating  me  had  been 
distinctly  brought  out  before  me  in  writing. 

"  I  wish  this  statement,  which  I  make  from  memory, 
and  without  consulting  any  document,  severely  tested  by 
my  writings  and  doings,  as  I  am  confident  it  will,  on  the 
whole,  be  borne  out,  whatever  real  or  apparent  exceptions  20 
(I  suspect  none)  have  to  be  allowed  by  me  in  detail. 

"  Your  uncle  is  at  liberty  to  make  what  use  he  pleases 
of  this  explanation." 

I  have  now  reached  an  important  date  in  my  narrative, 
the  year  1843,  but  before  proceeding  to  the  matters  which 
it  contains,  I  will  insert  portions  of  my  letters  from  1841 
to  1843,  addressed  to  Catholic  acquaintances. 

1.  "  April  8,  1841.  .  .  .  The  unity  of  the  Church  Catholic 
is  very  near  my  heart,  only  I  do  not  see  any  prospect  of 
it  in  our  time  ;  and  I  despair  of  its  being  effected  without  30 
great  sacrifices  on  all  hands.  As  to  resisting  the  Bishop's 
will,  I  observe  that  no  point  of  doctrine  or  principle  was 
in  dispute,  but  a  course  of  action,  the  publication  of 
certain  works.  I  do  not  think  you  sufficiently  understood 
our  position.  I  suppose  you  would  obey  the  Holy  See 
in  such  a  case  ;  now,  when  we  were  separated  from  the 
Pope,  his  authority  reverted  to  our  Diocesans.  Our  Bishop 
is  our  Pope.  It  is  our  theory,  that  each  diocese  is  an 
integral  Church,  intercommunion  being  a  duty,  (and  the 

23  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  1865. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  281 

breach  of  it  a  sin,)  but  not  essential  to  Catholicity.  To 
have  resisted  my  Bishop,  would  have  been  to  place  myself 
in  an  utterly  false  position,  which  I  never  could  have 
recovered.  Depend  upon  it,  the  strength  of  any  party  lies 
in  its  being  true  to  its  theory.  Consistency  is  the  life  of 
a  movement. 

"  I  have  no  misgivings  whatever  that  the  line  I  have 
taken  can  be  other  than  a  prosperous  one  :  that  is,  in  itself, 
for  of  course  Providence  may  refuse  to  us  its  legitimate 
10  issues  for  our  sins. 

I  am  afraid,  that  in  one  respect  you  may  be  disap 
pointed.  It  is  my  trust,  though  I  must  not  be  too  sanguine, 
that  we  shall  not  have  individual  members  of  our  com 
munion  going  over  to  yours.  What  one's  duty  would  be 
under  other  circumstances,  what  our  duty  ten  or  twenty 
years  ago,  I  cannot  say  ;  but  I  do  think  that  there  is  less 
of  private  judgment  in  going  with  -one's  Church,  than  in 
leaving  it.  I  can  earnestly  desire  a  union  between  my 
Church  and  yours.  I  cannot  listen  to  the  thought  of  your 
20  being  joined  by  individuals  among  us." 

2  "  April  26,  1841.  My  only  anxiety  is  lest  your  branch 
of  the  Church  should  not  meet  us  by  those  reforms  which 
surely  are  necessary.  It  never  could  be,  that  so  large  a 
portion  of  Christendom  should  have  split  off  from  the 
communion  of  Rome,  and  kept  up  a  protest  for  300  years 
for  nothing.  I  think  I  never  shall  believe  that  so  much 
piety  and  earnestness  would  be  found  among  Protestants, 
if  there  were  not  some  very  grave  errors  on  the  side  of  Rome! 
To  suppose  the  contrary  is  most  unreal,  and  violates  all 
so  one's  notions  of  moral  probabilities.  All  aberrations  are 
founded  on,  and  have  their  life  in,  some  truth  or  other— 
and  Protestantism,  so  widely  spread  and  so  long  enduring, 
must  have  in  it,  and  must  be  witness  for,  a  great  truth 
or  much  truth.  That  I  am  an  advocate  for  Protestantism, 
you  cannot  suppose— but  I  am  forced  into  a  Via  Media 
short^ of  Rome,  as  it  is  at  present." 

3.  "  May  5,  1841.    While  I  most  sincerely  hold  that  there 

is  in  the  Roman  Church  a  traditionary  system  which  is  not 

necessarily  connected  with  her  essential  formularies,  yet, 

10  were  I  ever  so  much  to  change  my  mind  on  this  point,  this 

would  not  tend  to  bring  me  from  my  present  position, 


282  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

providentially  appointed  in  the  English  Church.  That 
your  communion  was  unassailable,  would  not  prove  that 
mine  was  indefensible.  Nor  would  it  at  all  affect  the  sense 
in  which  I  receive  our  Articles  ;  they  would  still  speak 
against  certain  definite  errors,  though  you  had  reformed 
them. 

"  I  say  this  lest  any  lurking  suspicion  should  be  left 
in  the  mind  of  your  friends  that  persons  who  think  with 
me  are  likely,  by  the  growth  of  their  present  views,  to  find 
it  imperative  on  them  to  pass  over  to  your  communion.  10 
Allow  me  to  state  strongly,  that  if  you  have  any  such 
thoughts,  and  proceed  to  act  upon  them,  your  friends  will 
be  committing  a  fatal  mistake.  We  have  (I  trust)  the 
principle  and  temper  of  obedience  too  intimately  wrought 
into  us  to  allow  of  our  separating  ourselves  from  our 
ecclesiastical  superiors  because  in  many  points  we  may 
sympathize  with  others.  We  have  too  great  a  horror  of 
the  principle  of  private  judgment  to  trust  it  in  so  immense 
a  matter  as  that  of  changing  from  one  communion  to 
another.  We  may  be  cast  out  of  our  communion,  or  it  20 
may  decree  heresy  to  be  truth, — you  shall  say  whether 
such  contingencies  are  likely  ;  but  I  do  not  see  other 
conceivable  causes  of  our  leaving  the  Church  in  which  we 
were  baptized. 

"  For  myself,  persons  must  be  well  acquainted  with 
what  I  have  written  before  they  venture  to  say  whether 
I  have  much  changed  my  main  opinions  and  cardinal  views 
in  the  course  of  the  last  eight  years.  That  my  sympathies 
have  grown  towards  the  religion  of  Rome  I  do  not  deny  ; 
that  my  reasons  for  shunning  her  communion  have  lessened  so 
or  altered  it  would  be  difficult  perhaps  to  prove.  And 
I  wish  to  go  by  reason,  not  by  feeling." 

4.  "  June  18,  1841.  You  urge  persons  whose  views  agree 
with  mine  to  commence  a  movement  in  behalf  of  a  union 
between  the  Churches.  Now  in  the  letters  I  have  written, 
I  have  uniformly  said  that  I  did  not  expect  that  union  in 
our  time,  and  have  discouraged  the  notion  of  all  sudden 
proceedings  with  a  view  to  it.  I  must  ask  your  leave  to 
repeat  on  this  occasion  most  distinctly,  that  I  cannot  be 
party  to  any  agitation,  but  mean  to  remain  quiet  in  my40 
own  place,  and  to  do  all  I  can  to  make  others  take  the  same 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  283 

course.  This  I  conceive  to  be  my  simple  duty  ;  but,  over 
and  above  this,  I  will  not  set  my  teeth  on  edge  with  sour 
grapes.  I  know  it  is  quite  within  the  range  of  possibilities 
that  one  or  another  of  our  people  should  go  over  to  your 
communion  ;  however,  it  would  be  a  greater  misfortune 
to  you  than  grief  to  us.  If  your  friends  wish  to  put  a 
gulf  between  themselves  and  us,  let  them  make  converts, 
but  not  else.  Some  months  ago,  I  ventured  to  say  that 
I  felt  it  a  painful  duty  to  keep  aloof  from  all  Roman 

10  Catholics  who  came  with  the  intention  of  opening  negotia 
tions  for  the  union  of  the  Churches  :  when  you  now  urge 
us  to  petition  our  Bishops  for  a  union,  this,  I  conceive,  is 
very  like  an  act  of  negotiation." 

5.  I  have  the  first  sketch  or  draft  of  a  letter,  which 
I  wrote  to  a  zealous  Catholic  layman  :  it  runs  as  follows, 
as  (far  as)  I  have  preserved  it  (,  but  I  think  there  were 
various  changes  and  additions)  : — (")  September  12,  1841. 
["]  It  would  rejoice  all  Catholic  minds  among  us,  more 
than  words  can  say,  if  you  could  persuade  members  of  the 

jo  Church  of  Rome  to  take  the  line  in  politics  which  you  so 
earnestly  advocate.  Suspicion  and  distrust  are  the  main 
causes  at  present  of  the  separation  between  us,  and  the 
nearest  approaches  in  doctrine  will  but  increase  the  hos 
tility,  which,  alas,  our  people  feel  towards  yours,  while 
these  causes  continue.  Depend  upon  it,  you  must  not  rely 
upon  our  Catholic  tendencies  till  they  are  removed.  I  am 
not  speaking  of  myself,  or  of  any  friends  of  mine  ;  but  of 
our  Church  generally.  Whatever  our  personal  feelings  may 
be,  we  shall  but  tend  to  raise  and  spread  a  rival  Church 

3  to  yours  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  unless  you 
do  what  none  but  you  can  do.  Sympathies,  which  would 
flow  over  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
did  she  admit  them,  will  but  be  developed  in  the  con 
solidation  of  our  own  system,  if  she  continues  to  be  the 
object  of  our  suspicions  and  fears.  I  wish,  of  course  I  do, 
that  our  own  Church  may  be  built  up  and  extended,  but 
still,  not  at  the  cost  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  not  in  opposi 
tion  to  it.  I  am  sure,  that,  while  you  suffer,  we  suffer 
too  from  the  separation ;  but  we  cannot  remove  the  obstacles  ; 

|!  it  is  with  you  to  do  so.    You  do  not  fear  us  ;  we  fear  you. 

j|  Till  we  cease  to  fear  you,  we  cannot  love  you. 


284  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

"  While  you  are  in  your  present  position,  the  friends  of 
Catholic  unity  in  our  Church  are  but  fulfilling  the  predic 
tion  of  those  of  your  body  who  are  averse  to  them,  viz. 
that  they  will  be  merely  strengthening  a  rival  communion 
to  yours.  Many  of  you  say  that  we  are  your  greatest 
enemies  ;  we  have  said  so  ourselves  :  so  we  are,  so  we  shall 
be,  as  things  stand  at  present.  We  are  keeping  people 
from  you,  by  supplying  their  wants  in  our  own  Church. 
We  are  keeping  persons  from  you  :  do  you  wish  us  to  keep 
them  from  you  for  a  time  or  for  ever  ?  It  rests  with  you  10 
to  determine.  I  do  not  fear  that  you  will  succeed  among 
us  ;  you  will  not  supplant  our  Church  in  the  affections  of  the 
English  nation  ;  only  through  the  English  Church  can  you 
act  upon  the  English  nation.  I  wish  of  course  our  Church 
should  be  consolidated,  with  and  through  and  in  your 
communion,  for  its  sake,  and  your  sake,  and  for  the  sake 
of  unity. 

"  Are  you  aware  that  the  more  serious  thinkers  among 
us  are  used,  as  far  as  they  dare  form  an  opinion,  to  regard 
the  spirit  of  Liberalism  as  the  characteristic  of  the  destined  20 
Antichrist  ?  In  vain  does  any  one  clear  the  Church  of 
Rome  from  the  badges  of  Antichrist,  in  which  Protestants 
would  invest  her,  if  she  deliberately  takes  up  her  position 
in  the  very  quarter,  whither  we  have  cast  them,  when  we 
took  them  off  from  her.  Antichrist  is  described  as  the 
OU/O/AOS,  as  exalting  himself  above  the  yoke  of  religion  and 
law.  The  spirit  of  lawlessness  came  in  with  the  Reforma 
tion,  and  Liberalism  is  its  offspring. 

"  And  now  I  fear  I  am  going  to  pain  you  by  telling  you, 
that  you  consider  the  approaches  in  doctrine  on  our  part  so 
towards  you,  closer  than  they  really  are.  I  cannot  help 
repeating  what  I  have  many  times  said  in  print,  that  your 
services  and  devotions  to  St.  Mary  in  matter  of  fact  do 
most  deeply  pain  me.  I  am  only  stating  it  as  a  fact. 

"  Again,  I  have  nowhere  said  that  I  can  accept  the 
decrees  of  Trent  throughout,  nor  implied  it.  The  doctrine 
of  Transubstantiation  is  a  great  difficulty  with  me,  as 
being,  as  I  think,  not  primitive.  Nor  have  I  said  that  our 
Articles  in  all  respects  admit  of  a  Roman  interpretation  ; 
the  very  word  '  Transubstantiation  '  is  disowned  in  them.  40 

"  Thus,  you  see,  it  is  not  merely  on  grounds  of  expedience 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  285 

that  we  do  not  join  you.  There  are  positive  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  it.  And,  even  if  there  were  not,  we  shall  have 
no  divine  warrant  for  doing  so,  while  we  think  that  the 
Church  of  England  is  a  branch  of  the  true  Church,  and  that 
intercommunion  with  the  rest  of  Christendom  is  necessary, 
not  for  the  life  of  a  particular  Church,  but  for  its  health 
only.  I  have  never  disguised  that  there  are  actual  circum 
stances  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  which  pain  me  much  ; 
of  the  removal  of  these  I  see  no  chance,  while  we  join  you 

10  one  by  one  ;  but  if  our  Church  were  prepared  for  a  union, 
she  might  make  her  terms  ;  she  might  gain  the  Cup  ;  she 
might  protest  against  the  extreme  honours  paid  to  St.  Mary  ; 
she  might  make  some  explanation  of  the  doctrine  of 
Transubstantiation.  I  am  not  prepared  to  say  that  a 
reform  in  other  branches  of  the  Roman  Church  would  be 
necessary  for  our  uniting  with  them,  however  desirable  in 
itself,  so  that  we  were  allowed  to  make  a  reform  in  our  own 
country.  We  do  not  look  towards  Rome  as  believing  that 
its  communion  is  infallible,  but  that  union  is  a  duty." 

20  (6.)  The  following  letter  was  occasioned  by  the  present 
(made  to  me)  of  a  book,  from  the  friend  to  whom  it  is 
written  ;  more  will  be  said  on  the  subject  of  it  presently  : — 
"  Nov.  22,  1842.  I  only  wish  that  your  Church  were 
more  known  among  us  by  such  writings.  You  will  not 
interest  us  in  her,  till  we  see  her,  not  in  politics,  but  in 
her  true  functions  of  exhorting,  teaching,  and  guiding. 
I  wish  there  were  a  chance  of  making  the  leading  men 
among  you  understand,  what  I  believe  is  no  novel  thought 
to  yourself.  It  is  not  by  learned  discussions,  or  acute  argu- 

30  ments,  or  reports  of  miracles,  that  the  heart  of  England  can 
be  gained.  It  is  by  men  '  approving  themselves,'  like  the 
Apostle,  '  ministers  of  Christ.' 

"As  to  your  question,  whether  the  Volume  you  have 
sent  is  not  calculated  to  remove  my  apprehensions  that 
another  gospel  is  substituted  for  the  true  one  in  your 
practical  instructions,  before  I  can  answer  it  in  any  way, 
I  ought  to  know  how  far  the  Sermons  which  it  comprises 
are  selected  from  a  number,  or  whether  they  are  the  whole, 
or  such  as  the  whole,  which  have  been  published  of  the 

21  from]  by 


286  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

author's.  I  assure  you,  or  at  least  I  trust,  that,  if  it  is 
ever  clearly  brought  home  to  me  that  I  have  been  wrong 
in  what  I  have  said  on  this  subject,  my  public  avowal 
of  that  conviction  will  only  be  a  question  of  time  with  me. 

"  If,  however,  you  saw  our  Church  as  we  see  it,  you 
would  easily  understand  that  such  a  change  of  feeling,  did 
it  take  place,  would  have  no  necessary  tendency,  which 
you  seem  to  expect,  to  draw  a  person  from  the  Church  of 
England  to  that  of  Rome.  There  is  a  divine  life  among 
us,  clearly  manifested,  in  spite  of  all  our  disorders,  which  10 
is  as  great  a  note  of  the  Church,  as  any  can  be.  Why 
should  we  seek  our  Lord's  presence  elsewhere,  when  He 
vouchsafes  it  to  us  where  we  are  ?  What  call  have  we  to 
change  our  communion  ? 

"  Roman  Catholics  will  find  this  to  be  the  state  of  things 
in  time  to  come,  whatever  promise  they  may  fancy  there 
is  of  a  large  secession  to  their  Church.  This  man  or  that 
may  leave  us,  but  there  will  be  no  general  movement. 
There  is,  indeed,  an  incipient  movement  of  our  Church 
towards  yours,  and  this  your  leading  men  are  doing  all  they  20 
can  to  frustrate  by  their  unwearied  efforts  at  all  risks  to 
carry  off  individuals.  When  will  they  know  their  position, 
and  embrace  a  larger  and  wiser  policy  ?  " 

23  A  space  was  left,  as  here,  in  1864 ;  the  next  paragraph  commencing 
low  down  on  the  next  page.     In  1865  §  2  followed  on  the  same  page. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  287 


(§2.) 

The  last  letter,  which  I  have  inserted,  is  addressed 
to  my  dear  friend,  Dr.  Russell,  the  present  President  of 
Maynooth.  He  had,  perhaps,  more  to  do  with  my  con 
version  than  any  one  else.  He  called  upon  me,  in  passing 
through  Oxford  in  the  summer  of  1841,  and  I  think  I  took 
him  over  some  of  the  buildings  of  the  University.  He 
called  again  another  summer,  on  his  way  from  Dublin  to 
London.  I  do  not  recollect  that  he  said  a  word  on  the 
subject  of  religion  on  either  occasion.  He  sent  me  at 

10  different  times  several  letters  ;  he  was  always  gentle,  mild, 
unobtrusive,  uncontroversial.  He  let  me  alone.  He  also 
gave  me  one  or  two  books.  Veron's  Rule  of  Faith  and 
some  Treatises  of  the  Wallenburghs  was  one  ;  a  volume  of 
St.  Alfonso  Liguori's  Sermons  was  another  ;  and  (it  is) 
to  (those  Sermons)  that  the  letter  which  I  have  last  inserted 
relates. 

Now  it  must  be  observed  that  the  writings  of  St.  Alfonso, 
as  I  knew  them  by  the  extracts  commonly  made  from 
them,  prejudiced  me  as  much  against  the  Roman  Church 

20  as  any  thing  else,  on  account  of  what  was  called  their 
"  Mariolatry  ;  "  but  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind  in  this 
book.  I  wrote  to  ask  Dr.  Russell  whether  any  thing  had 
been  left  out  in  the  translation  ;  he  answered  that  there 
certainly  was  an  omission  of  one  passage  about  the  Blessed 
Virgin.  This  omission,  in  the  case  of  a  book  intended  for 
Catholics,  at  least  showed  that  such  passages  as  are  found 
in  the  works  of  Italian  Authors  were  not  acceptable  to  every 
part  of  the  Catholic  world.  Such  devotional  manifestations 
in  honour  of  our  Lady  had  been  my  great  crux  as  regards 

so  Catholicism  ;   I  say  frankly,  I  do  not  fully  enter  into  them 

1  The  last  letter,  which  I  have  inserted]  The  letter  which  I  have  last 
inserted 

15  the  letter  which  I  have  last  inserted]  my  letter  to  Dr.  Russell 
24  was  an  omission  of  one  passage]  were  omissions  in  one  Sermon 


288  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

now  ;  I  trust  I  do  not  love  her  the  less,  because  I  cannot  enter 
into  them.  They  may  be  fully  explained  and  defended  ; 
but  sentiment  and  taste  do  not  run  with  logic  :  they  are 
suitable  for  Italy,  but  they  are  not  suitable  for  England. 
But,  over  and  above  England,  my  own  case  was  special  ; 
from  a  boy  I  had  been  led  to  consider  that  my  Maker  and 
I,  His  creature,  were  the  two  beings,  certainly  such,  in 
rerum  naturd.  I  will  not  here  speculate,  however,  about 
my  own  feelings.  Only  this  I  know  full  well  now,  and  did 
not  know  then,  that  the  Catholic  Church  allows  no  image  10 
of  any  sort,  material  or  immaterial,  no  dogmatic  symbol, 
no  rite,  no  sacrament,  no  Saint,  not  even  the  Blessed 
Virgin  herself,  to  come  between  the  soul  and  its  Creator. 
It  is  face  to  face,  "  solus  cum  solo,"  in  all  matters  between 
man  and  his  God.  He  alone  creates  ;  He  alone  has  re 
deemed  ;  before  His  awful  eyes  we  go  in  death  ;  in  the 
vision  of  Him  is  our  eternal  beatitude.  (1.)  "Solus  cum 
solo  :  "—I  recollect  but  indistinctly  the  effect  produced 
upon  me  by  this  Volume  (of  which  I  have  been  speaking), 
but  it  must  have  been  (something)  considerable.  At  all  20 
events  I  had  got  a  key  to  a  difficulty  ;  in  these  sermons, 
(or  rather  heads  of  sermons,  as  they  seem  to  be,  taken 
down  by  a  hearer,)  there  is  much  of  what  would  be  called 
legendary  illustration  ;  but  the  substance  of  them  is  plain, 
practical,  awful  preaching  upon  the  great  truths  of  salva 
tion.  What  I  can  speak  of  with  greater  confidence  is  the 
effect  upon  me  a  little  later  of  the  Exercises  of  St.  Ignatius. 
(For)  Here  again,  in  a  [pure]  matter  of  the  (purest  and) 
most  direct  (acts  of)  religion, ( — )in  the  intercourse  between 
God  and  the  soul,  during  a  season  of  recollection,  of  repent-  so 
ance,  of  good  resolution,  of  inquiry  into  vocation, ( — )the 
soul  was  "  sola  cum  solo  ;  "  there  was  no  cloud  interposed 
between  the  creature  and  the  Object  of  his  faith  and  love. 
The  command  practically  enforced  was,  "  My  son,  give 
Me  thy  heart."  The  devotions  then  to  angels  and  saints 

7  certainly]  luminously 

17  1.  Solus  cum  solo  :   This  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1865. 

18-19  the  effect  produced  upon  me  by  this]  what  I  gained  from  the 

20-21  all  events]  least  27  upon]  produced  on 

27  later  of]  later  by  studying  28  matter  of]  matter  consisting  in 

35  angels  and  saints]  Angels  and  Saints 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  289 

as  little  interfered  with  the  incommunicable  glory  of  the 
Eternal,  as  the  love  which  we  bear  our  friends  and  relations, 
our  tender  human  sympathies,  are  inconsistent  with  that 
supreme  homage  of  the  heart  to  the  Unseen,  which  really 
does  but  sanctify  and  exalt(,  not  jealously  destroy,}  what 
is  of  earth.  At  a  later  date  Dr.  Russell  sent  me  a  large 
bundle  of  penny  or  half -penny  books  of  devotion,  of  all 
sorts,  as  they  are  found  in  the  booksellers'  shops  at  Rome  ; 
and,  on  looking  them  over,  I  was  quite  astonished  to  find 

10  how  different  they  were  from  what  I  had  fancied,  how 
little  there  was  in  them  to  which  I  could  really  object. 
I  have  given  an  account  of  them  in  my  Essay  on  the 
Development  of  Doctrine.  Dr.  Russell  sent  me  St.  Alfonso's 
book  at  the  end  of  1842  ;  however,  it  was  still  a  long  time 
before  I  got  over  my  difficulty,  on  the  score  of  the  devo 
tions  paid  to  the  Saints  ;  perhaps,  as  I  judge,  from  a  letter 
I  have  turned  up,  it  was  some  way  into  1844,  before  I  could 
be  said  (fully)  to  have  got  over  it. 

(2.)   I  am  not  sure  that  (I  did  not  also  at  this  time  feel 

20  the  force  of)  another  consideration  [did  not  also  weigh 
with  me  then].  The  idea  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  was  as  it 
were  magnified  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  as  time  went  on,— 
but  so  were  all  the  Christian  ideas  ;  as  that  of  the  Blessed 
Eucharist.  The  whole  scene  of  pale,  faint,  distant  Apostolic 
Christianity  is  seen  in  Rome,  as  through  a  telescope  or 
magnifier.  The  harmony  of  the  whole,  however,  is  of  course 
what  it  was.  It  is  unfair  then  to  take  one  Roman  idea,  that 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  out  of  what  may  be  called  its  context. 
(3.)  Thus  I  am  brought  to  the  principle  of  development 

so  of  doctrine  in  the  Christian  Church,  to  which  I  gave  my 
mind  at  the  end  of  1842.  I  had  spoken  of  it  in  the  passage, 
which  I  quoted  many  pages  back  ((vide  p.  218)),  in  Home 
Thoughts  Abroad,  published  in  1836  ;  (and  even  at  an 
earlier  date  I  had  introduced  it  into  my  History  of  the 
Arians  in  1832  ;)  but  it  had  been  a  favourite  subject  with 
me  all  along.  And  it  is  certainly  recognized  in  that  cele 
brated  Treatise  of  Vincent  of  Lerins,  which  has  so  often 

31  spoken]  made  mention 

35-6  but  it  had  been  a  favourite  subject  with  me  all  along]  nor  had 
I  ever  lost  sight  of  it  in  my  speculations 
36-7  that  celebrated]  the 


290  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

been  taken  as  the  basis  of  the  Anglican  theory.  In  1843 
I  began  to  consider  it  steadily  ;  (I  made  it  the  subject  of 
my  last  University  Sermon  on  February  2  ;}  and  the 
general  view  to  which  I  came  is  stated  thus  in  a  letter  to 
a  friend  of  the  date  of  July  14, 1844 ;  ( — )it  will  be  observed 
that,  now  as  before,  my  issue  is  still  Faith  versus  Church  : — 
"  The  kind  of  considerations  which  weigh(s)  with  me  are 
such  as  the  following  : — 1.  I  am  far  more  certain  (accord 
ing  to  the  Fathers)  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  culpable  separa 
tion,  than  that  developments  do  not  exist  under  the  Gospel,  10 
and  "that  the  Roman  developments  are  not  the  true  ones. 

2.  I  am  far  more  certain,  that  our  (modern)  doctrines  are 
wrong,  than  that  the  Roman  (modern)  doctrines  are  wrong. 

3.  Granting  that  the  Roman  (special)  doctrines  are  not 
found  drawn  out  in  the  early  Church,  yet  I  think  there  is 
sufficient  trace  of  them  in  it,  to  recommend  and  prove 
them,   on  the  hypothesis  of  the  Church  having  a  divine 

Guidance,  though  not  sufficient  to  prove  them  by  itself, 
o  that  the  question  simply  turns  on  the  nature  of  the 
promise  of  the  Spirit,  made  to  the  Church.  4.  The  proof  20 
of  the  Roman  (modern)  doctrine  is  as  strong  (or  stronger) 
in  Antiquity,  as  that  of  certain  doctrines  which  both  we  and 
Romans  hold  :  e.g.  there  is  more  of  evidence  in  Antiquity 
for  the  necessity  of  Unity,  than  for  the  Apostolical  Succes 
sion  ;  for  the  Supremacy  of  the  See  of  Rome,  than  for  the 
Presence  in  the  Eucharist ;  for  the  practice  of  Invocation, 
than  for  certain  books  in  the  present  Canon  of  Scripture, 
«fec.  &c.  5.  The  analogy  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  also 
of  the  New,  leads  to  the  acknowledgment  of  doctrinal 
developments."  30 

(4.)  And  thus  I  was  led  on  to  a  further  consideration. 
I  saw  that  the  principle  of  development  not  only  accounted 
for  certain  facts,  but  was  in  itself  a  remarkable  philo 
sophical  phenomenon,  giving  a  character  to  the  whole 
course  of  Christian  thought.  It  was  discernible  from  the 
first  years  of  the  Catholic  teaching  up  to  the  present  day, 
and  gave  to  that  teaching  a  unity  and  individuality.  It 
served  as  a  sort  of  test,  which  the  Anglican  could  not 
exhibit,  that  modern  Rome  was  in  truth  ancient  Antioch, 

1  the  Anglican  theory]  Anglicanism  2  steadily]  attentively 

6  Faith]  Creed  7  The  kind  .  .  .  are  So  in  all  editions, 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  291 

Alexandria,  and  Constantinople,  just  as  a  mathematical 
curve  has  its  own  law  and  expression. 

(5.)  And  thus  again  I  was  led  on  to  examine  more 
attentively  what  I  doubt  not  was  in  my  thoughts  long 
before,  viz.  the  concatenation  of  argument  by  which  the 
mind  ascends  from  its  first  to  its  final  religious  idea  ;  and 
I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  no  medium,  in 
true  philosophy,  between  Atheism  and  Catholicity,  and 
that  a  perfectly  consistent  mind,  under  those  circumstances 

0  in  which  it  finds  itself  here  below,  must  embrace  either  the 
one  or  the  other.    And  I  hold  this  still :   I  am  a  Catholic 
by  virtue  of  my  believing  in  a  God  ;    and  if  I  am  asked 
why  I  believe  in  a  God,  I  answer  that  it  is  because  I  believe 
in  myself,  for  I  feel  it  impossible  to  believe  in  my  own 
existence  (and  of  that  fact  I  am  quite  sure)  without  believ 
ing  also  in  the  existence  of  Him,  who  lives  as  a  Personal, 
All-seeing,    All- judging   Being  in   my   conscience.     Now, 
I  dare  say,  I  have  not  expressed  myself  with  philosophical 
correctness,  because  I  have  not  given  myself  to  the  study 
of  what  others  have  said  on  the  subject ;    but  I  think 
I  have  a  strong  true  meaning  in  what  I  say  which  will 

,|  stand  examination. 

(6.)   Moreover,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  which  I  have 
j  been  stating,  on  reasoning  of  the  same  nature,  as  that 

1  which  I  had  adopted  on  the  subject  of  development  of 
jj  doctrine.     The  fact  of  the  operation  from  first  to  last  of 
i|  that  principle  of  development  (in  the  truths  of  Revelation,) 
!  is  an  argument  in  favour  of  the  identity  of  Roman  and 
ji  Primitive  Christianity  ;    but  as  there  is  a  law  which  acts 
ii  upon  the  subject-matter  of  dogmatic  theology,  so  is  there 
I  a  law  in  the  matter  of  religious  faith.    In  the  third  part  of 
||  this  narrative  I  spoke  of  certitude  as  the  consequence, 

i  divinely  intended  and  enjoined  upon  us,  of  the  accumula- 
i  tive  force  of  certain  given  reasons  which,  taken  one  by  one, 
;  were  only  probabilities.  Let  it  be  recollected  that  I  am 
;  historically  relating  my  state  of  mind,  at  the  period  of  my 
life  which  I  am  surveying.  I  am  not  speaking  theologically, 

20  others]  metaphysicians 

23-4  came  to  the  conclusion  ....  same  nature,  as]  found  a  corro- 
boration  of  the  fact  of  the  logical  connexion  of  Theism  with  Catholicism 
in  a  consideration  parallel  to  31  third  part]  first  chapter 


292  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

nor  have  I  any  intention  of  going  into  controversy,  or  of 
defending  myself ;  but  speaking  historically  of  what  I  held 
in  1843-4,  I  say,  that  I  believed  in  a  God  on  a  ground  of 
probability,  that  I  believed  in  Christianity  on  a  probability, 
and  that  I  believed  in  Catholicism  on  a  probability,  and 
that  all  three  (grounds  of  probability,  distinct  from  each 
other  of  course  in  subject  matter,)  were  about  the  same 
kind  of  probability,  a  cumulative,  a  transcendent  prob 
ability,  but  still  probability  ;  inasmuch  as  He  who  made 
us,  has  so  willed  that  in  mathematics  indeed  we  (should)  10 
arrive  at  certitude  by  rigid  demonstration,  but  in  religious 
inquiry  we  (should)  arrive  at  certitude  by  accumulated 
probabilities, — [inasmuch  as]  He  [who]  has  willed(,  I  say,) 
that  we  should  so  act,  (and,  as  willing  it,  He)  co-operates 
with  us  in  our  acting,  and  thereby  (enables  us  to  do  that 
which  He  wills  us  to  do,  and)  bestows  on  us  (if  our  will  does 
but  co-operate  with  His,)  a  certitude  which  rises  higher 
than  the  logical  force  of  our  conclusions.  And  thus  I  came 
to  see  clearly,  and  to  have  a  satisfaction  in  seeing,  that, 
in  being  led  on  into  the  Church  of  Rome,  I  was  proceeding,  20 
not  by  any  secondary  (or  isolated)  grounds  of  reason,  or 
by  controversial  points  in  detail,  but  was  protected  and 
justified,  even  in  the  use  of  those  secondary  (or  particular) 
arguments,  by  a  great  and  broad  principle.  But,  let  it  be 
observed,  that  I  am  stating  a  matter  of  fact,  not  defending 
it  ;  and  if  any  Catholic  says  in  consequence  that  I  have 
been  converted  in  a  wrong  way,  I  cannot  help  that  now. 

[And  now  I  have  carried  on  the  history  of  my  opinions 
to  their  last  point,  before  I  became  a  Catholic.  I  find 
great  difficulty  in  fixing  dates  precisely  ;  but  it  must  have  30 
been  some  way  into  1844,  before  I  thought  not  only  that  the 
Anglican  Church  was  certainly  wrong,  but  that  Rome  was 
right.  Then  I  had  nothing  more  to  learn  on  the  subject. 

6  all]  these 

7-8  about  the  same  kind  of  probability]  still  all  of  them  one  and  the 
same  in  nature  of  proof,  as  being  probabilities — probabilities  of  a  special 
kind 

16-17  bestows  on  us  a  certitude]  carries  us  on,  ...  to  a  certitude 

20-1  proceeding,  not  by]  not  proceeding  on 

28  f.  For  this  passage  the  following  was  substituted  in  1865  :  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say  on  the  subject  of  the  change  in  my  religious  opinions. 
On  the  one  hand  I  came  gradually  to  see  that  the  Anglican  Church  was 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  293 

How  "  Samaria  "  faded  away  from  my  imagination  I  cannot 
tell,  but  it  was  gone.  Now  to  go  back  to  the  time  when 
this  last  stage  of  my  inquiry  was  in  its  commencement, 
which,  if  I  dare  assign  dates,  was  towards  the  end  of 
1842.] 

In  1843,  I  took  two  very  [important  and]  significant 
steps  : — 1.  In  February,  I  made  a  formal  Retractation  of 
all  the  hard  things  which  I  had  said  against  the  Church 
of  Rome.  2.  In  September,  I  resigned  the  Living  of 

10  St.  Mary's,  Littlemore  inclusive  : — I  will  speak  of  these 
two  acts  separately. 

1.  The  words,  in  which  I  made  my  Retractation,  have 
given  rise  to  much  criticism.  After  quoting  a  number  of 
passages  from  my  writings  against  the  Church  of  Rome, 
which  I  withdrew,  I  ended  thus  : — "  If  you  ask  me  how  an 
individual  could  venture,  not  simply  to  hold,  but  to  publish 
such  views  of  a  communion  so  ancient,  so  wide -spreading, 
so  fruitful  in  Saints,  I  answer  that  I  said  to  myself,  '  I  am 
not  speaking  my  own  words,  I  am  but  following  almost 

20  a  consensus  of  the  divines  of  my  own  Church.  They  have 
ever  used  the  strongest  language  against  Rome,  even  the 
most  able  and  learned  of  them.  I  wish  to  throw  myself 
into  their  system.  While  I  say  what  they  say,  I  am  safe. 
Such  views,  too,  are  necessary  for  our  position.'  Yet 
I  have  reason  to  fear  still,  that  such  language  is  to  be 
ascribed,  in  no  small  measure,  to  an  impetuous  temper, 
a  hope  of  approving  myself  to  persons  I  respect,  and  a  wish 
to  repel  the  charge  of  Romanism." 

These  words  have  been,  and  are,  [cited]  again  and  again 

so  (cited)  against  me,  as  if  a  confession  that,  when  in  the 
Anglican  Church,  I  said  things  against  Rome  which  I  did 
not  really  believe. 

formally  in  the  wrong,  on  the  other  that  the  Church  of  Rome  was 
formally  in  the  right;  then,  that  no  valid  reasons  could  be  assigned 
for  continuing  in  the  Anglican,  and  again  that  no  valid  objections 
could  be  taken  to  joining  the  Roman.  Then,  I  had  nothing  more  to 
learn  ;  what  still  remained  for  my  conversion,  was,  not  further  change 
of  opinion,  but  to  change  opinion  itself  into  the  clearness  and  firmness 
of  intellectual  conviction. 

Now  I  proceed  to  detail  the  acts,  to  which  I  committed  myself  during 
this  last  stage  of  my  inquiry.  10  inclusive]  included 


294  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

For  myself,  I  cannot  understand  how  any  impartial 
man  can  so  take  them  ;  and  I  have  explained  them  in 
print  several  times.  I  trust  that  by  this  time  they  have 
been  sufficiently  explained  by  what  I  have  said  in  former 
portions  of  this  narrative  ;  still  I  have  a  word  or  two  to 
say  about  them,  which  I  have  not  said  before.  (In  the 
passage  in  question)  I  apologize[d  in  the  lines  in  question] 
for  saying  out  (in  controversy)  charges  against  the  Church 
of  Rome  which  (withal  I  affirm  that)  I  fully  believed  to  be 
true.  What  is  wonderful  in  such  an  apology  ?  10 

There  are  (surely)  many  things  a  man  may  hold,  which 
at  the  same  time  he  may  feel  that  he  has  no  right  to  say 
publicly(,  and  which  it  may  annoy  him  that  he  has  said 
publicly).  The  law  recognizes  this  principle.  In  our  own 
time,  men  have  been  imprisoned  and  fined  for  saying  true 
things  of  a  bad  king.  The  maxim  has  been  held,  that, 
"  The  greater  the  truth,  the  greater  is  the  libel."  And  so 
as  to  the  judgment  of  society,  a  just  indignation  would  be 
felt  against  a  writer  who  brought  forward  wantonly  the 
weaknesses  of  a  great  man,  though  the  whole  world  knew  20 
that  they  existed.  No  one  is  at  liberty  to  speak  ill  of 
another  without  a  justifiable  reason,  even  though  he  knows 
he  is  speaking  truth,  and  the  public  knows  it  too.  There 
fore^,  though  I  believed  what  I  said  against  the  Roman 
Church,  nevertheless)  I  could  not  (religiously)  speak  ill 
against  the  Church  of  Rome,  though  I  believed  what  I  said, 
without  a  good  reason.  I  did  believe  what  I  said  (on  what 
I  thought  to  be  good  reasons)  ;  but  had  I  (also)  a  good 
reason  for  saying  it  ?  I  thought  I  had(,  and  it  was  this)  ; 
viz.  I  said  what  I  believed  was  simply  necessary  in  the  So 

3^4  they  have  been  sufficiently  explained]  their  plain  meaning  has 
been  satisfactorily  brought  out 

6  about  them,  which  I  have  not  said  before]  in  addition  to  my 
former  remarks  upon  them 

6  In  the  passage  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1865. 
8  saying  out]  saying  out 

9-10  believed  to  be  true]  believed  at  the  time  when  I  made  them 
11  No  new  paragraph  here  in  1865. 

25-7  speak  ill  against without  a  good  reason]  speak  it  out,  unless 

I  was  really  justified,  not  only  in  believing  ill,  but  in  speaking  ill 

28-9  good  reason  for  saying  it]  just  cause  for  saying  out  what 
I  believed  30  I  said]  that  to  say  out 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  295 

controversy,  in  order  to  defend  ourselves  ;  I  considered 
that  the  Anglican  position  could  not  be  defended,  without 
bringing  charges  against  the  Church  of  Rome.  (In  this,  as 
in  most  cases  of  conflict,  one  was  right  or  the  other,  not 
both ;  and  the  best  defence  was  to  attack.)  Is  not  this 
almost  a  truism  (in  the  Roman  controversy)  ?  is  it  not 
what  every  one  says,  who  speaks  on  the  subject  at  all  ? 
does  any  serious  man  abuse  the  Church  of  Rome,  for  the 
sake  of  abusing  her,  or  because  it  justifies  his  own  religious 

10  position  ?  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  very  word  "  Pro 
testantism,"  but  that  there  is  a  call  to  speak  out  ?  This 
then  is  what  I  said  ;  "I  know  I  spoke  strongly  against  the 
Church  of  Rome  ;  but  it  was  no  mere  abuse,  for  I  had 
a  serious  reason  for  doing  so." 

But,  not  only  did  I  think  such  language  necessary  for 
my  Church's  religious  position,  but  (I  recollected  that)  all 
the  great  Anglican  divines  had  thought  so  before  me.  They 
had  thought  so,  and  they  had  acted  accordingly.  And 
therefore  I  said  (in  the  passage  in  question),  with  much 

20  propriety,  that  I  had  not  done  it  simply  out  of  my  own  head, 
but  that  (in  doing  so)  I  was  following  the  track,  or  rather 
reproducing  the  teaching,  of  those  who  had  preceded  me. 

I  was  pleading  guilty  (to  using  violent  language)  ;  but 
(I  was)  pleading  also  that  there  were  extenuating  circum 
stances  in  the  case.  We  all  know  the  story  of  the  convict, 
who  on  the  scaffold  bit  off  his  mother's  ear.  By  doing  so 
he  did  not  deny  the  fact  of  his  own  crime,  for  which  he 
was  to  hang  ;  but  he  said  that  his  mother's  indulgence, 
when  he  was  a  boy,  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it.  In  like 

so  manner  I  had  made  a  charge,  and  I  had  made  it  ex  animo  ; 
but  I  accused  others  of  having(,  by  their  own  example,) 
led  me  into  believing  it  and  publishing  it. 

But  there  was  more  than  this  meant  in  the  words  which 
I  used  : — first,  I  will  freely  confess,  indeed  I  said  it  some 

1-2  ,  in  order  to  defend  ourselves ;  I  considered  that]  for  self -defence. 
It  was  impossible  to  let  it  alone  : 

2  defended]  satisfactorily  maintained 

3  bringing  charges  against  the  Church  of  Rome]  assailing  the  Roman 
9  it]  that  abuse 

19  said]  observe  20  done  it]  used  strong  language 

33^4  But  there  was  .  .  used  : — first,]  I  was  in  a  humour,  certainly, 
to  bite  ofi  their  ears. 


296  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

pages  back,  that  I  was  angry  with  the  Anglican  divines. 
I  thought  they  had  taken  me  in  ;  I  had  read  the  Fathers 
with  their  eyes  ;  I  had  sometimes  trusted  their  quotations 
or  their  reasonings  ;  and  from  reliance  on  them,  I  had 
used  words  or  made  statements,  which  properly  I  ought 
rigidly  to  have  examined  myself.  (I  had  thought  myself 
safe,  while  I  had  their  warrant  for  what  I  said.)  I  had 
exercised  more  faith  than  criticism  in  the  matter.  This 
did  not  imply  any  broad  misstatements  on  my  part,  arising 
from  reliance  on  their  authority,  but  it  implied  carelessness  10 
in  matters  of  detail.  And  this  of  course  was  a  fault. 

But  there  was  a  far  deeper  reason  for  my  saying  what 
I  said  in  this  matter,  on  which  I  have  not  hitherto  touched  ; 
and  it  was  this  : — The  most  oppressive  thought,  in  the 
whole  process  of  my  change  of  opinion,  was  the  clear 
anticipation,  verified  by  the  event,  that  it  would  issue  in 
the  triumph  of  Liberalism.  Against  the  Anti-dogmatic 
principle  I  had  thrown  my  whole  mind  ;  yet  now  I  was 
doing  more  than  any  one  else  could  do,  to  promote  it. 
I  was  one  of  those  who  had  kept  it  at  bay  in  Oxford  for  20 
so  many  years  ;  and  thus  my  very  retirement  was  its 
triumph.  The  men  who  had  driven  me  from  Oxford  were 
distinctly  the  Liberals  ;  it  was  they  who  had  opened  the 
attack  upon  Tract  90,  and  it  was  they  who  would  gain 
a  second  benefit,  if  I  went  on  to  retire  from  the  Anglican 
Church.  But  this  was  not  all.  As  I  have  already  said, 
there  are  but  two  alternatives,  the  way  to  Rome,  and  the 
way  to  Atheism  :  Anglicanism  is  the  halfway  house  on 
the  one  side,  and  Liberalism  is  the  halfway  house  on  the 
other.  How  many  men  were  there,  as  I  knew  full  well,  30 
who  would  not  follow  me  now  in  my  advance  from  Angli 
canism  to  Rome,  but  would  at  once  leave  Anglicanism 
and  me  for  the  Liberal  camp.  It  is  not  at  all  easy  (humanly 
speaking)  to  wind  up  an  Englishman  to  a  dogmatic  level. 
I  had  done  so  in  [a]  good  measure,  in  the  case  both  of 
young  men  and  of  laymen,  the  Anglican  Via  Media  being 
the  representative  of  dogma.  The  dogmatic  and  the 
Anglican  principle  were  one,  as  I  had  taught  them  ;  but 
I  was  breaking  the  Via  Media  to  pieces,  and  would  not 
dogmatic  faith  altogether  be  broken  up,  in  the  minds  of 
5  properly]  by  right  25  retire  from]  abandon 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  297 

a  great  number,  by  the  demolition  of  the  Via  Media  ? 
Oh  !  how  unhappy  this  made  me  !  I  heard  once  from  an 
eye-witness  the  account  of  a  poor  sailor  whose  legs  were 
shattered  by  a  ball,  in  the  action  off  Algiers  in  1816,  and 
who  was  taken  below  for  an  operation.  The  surgeon  and 
the  chaplain  persuaded  him  to  have  a  leg  off  ;  it  was  done 
and  the  tourniquet  applied  to  the  wound.  Then,  they  broke 
it  to  him  that  he  must  have  the  other  off  too.  The  poor 
fellow  said,  "  You  should  have  told  me  that,  gentlemen," 

10  and  deliberately  unscrewed  the  instrument  and  bled  to 
death.  Would  not  that  be  the  case  with  many  friends  of 
my  own  ?  How  could  I  ever  hope  to  make  them  believe 
in  a  second  theology,  when  I  had  cheated  them  in  the 
first  ?  with  what  face  could  I  publish  a  new  edition  of 
a  dogmatic  creed,  and  ask  them  to  receive  it  as  gospel  ? 
Would  it  not  be  plain  to  them  that  no  certainty  was  to  be 
found  any  where  ?  Well,  in  my  defence  I  could  but  make 
a  lame  apology  ;  however,  it  was  the  true  one,  viz.  that 
I  had  not  read  the  Fathers  critically  enough  ;  that  in  such 

20  nice  points,  as  those  which  determine  the  angle  of  diver 
gence  between  the  two  Churches,  I  had  made  considerable 
miscalculations  ;  and  how  came  this  about  ?  Why(,}  the 
fact  was,  unpleasant  as  it  was  to  avow,  that  I  had  leaned 
too  much  upon  the  assertions  of  Ussher,  Jeremy  Taylor, 
or  Barrow,  and  had  been  deceived  by  them.  Valeat  quan 
tum, — it  was  all  that  could  be  said.  This  then  was  a  chief 
reason  of  that  wording  of  the  Retractation,  which  has  given 
so  much  offence,  (because  the  bitterness,  with  which  it 
was  written,  was  not  understood : — )  and  the  following  letter 

so  will  illustrate  it  : — 

"  April  3,  1844.  I  wish  to  remark  on  W(illiam)'s  chief 
distress,  that  my  changing  my  opinion  seemed  to  unsettle 
one's  confidence  in  truth  and  falsehood  as  external  things, 
and  led  one  to  be  suspicious  of  the  new  opinion  as  one 
became  distrustful  of  the  old.  Now  in  what  I  shall  say, 
I  am  not  going  to  speak  in  favour  of  my  second  thoughts  in 
comparison  of  my  first,  but  against  such  scepticism  and 
unsettlement  about  truth  and  falsehood  generally,  the  idea 
of  which  is  very  painful. 

19  critically]  cautiously 

22  miscalculations  ;  and]  miscalculations.    But 
L3 


298  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

"  The  case  with  me,  then,  was  this,  and  not  surely  an 
unnatural  one  : — as  a  matter  of  feeling  and  of  duty  I  threw 
myself  into  the  system  which  I  found  myself  in.  I  saw 
that  the  English  Church  had  a  theological  idea  or  theory 
as  such,  and  I  took  it  up.  I  read  Laud  on  Tradition,  and 
thought  it  (as  I  still  think  it)  very  masterly.  The  Anglican 
Theory  was  very  distinctive.  I  admired  it  and  took  it  on 
faith.  It  did  not  (I  think)  occur  to  me  to  doubt  it ;  I  saw 
that  it  was  able,  and  supported  by  learning,  and  I  felt  it 
was  a  duty  to  maintain  it.  Further,  on  looking  intoio 
Antiquity  and  reading  the  Fathers,  I  saw  such  portions 
of  it  as  I  examined,  fully  confirmed  (e.g.  the  supremacy  of 
Scripture).  There  was  only  one  question  about  which 
I  had  a  doubt,  viz.  whether  it  would  work,  for  it  has  never 
been  more  than  a  paper  system.  .  .  . 

"  So  far  from  my  change  of  opinion  having  any  fair 
tendency  to  unsettle  persons  as  to  truth  and  falsehood 
viewed  as  objective  realities,  it  should  be  considered 
whether  such  change  is  not  necessary,  if  truth  be  a  real 
objective  thing,  and  be  made  to  confront  a  person  who  has  20 
been  brought  up  in  a  system  short  of  truth.  Surely  the 
continuance  of  a  person(,)  who  wishes  to  go  right(,)  in 
a  wrong  system,  and  not  his  giving  it  up,  would  be  that 
which  militated  against  the  objectiveness  of  Truth,  lead 
ing,  as  it  would,  to  the  suspicion,  that  one  thing  and 
another  were  equally  pleasing  to  our  Maker,  where  men 
were  sincere. 

"  Nor  surely  is  it  a  thing  I  need  be  sorry  for,  that  I 
defended  the  system  in  which  I  found  myself,  and  thus 
have  had  to  unsay  my  words.  For  is  it  not  one's  duty,  so 
instead  of  beginning  with  criticism,  to  throw  oneself 
generously  into  that  form  of  religion  which  is  providentially 
put  before  one  ?  Is  it  right,  or  is  it  wrong,  to  begin  with 
private  judgment  ?  May  we  not,  on  the  other  hand,  look 
for  a  blessing  through  obedience  even  to  an  erroneous 
system,  and  a  guidance  even  by  means  of  it  out  of  it  ? 
Were  those  who  were  strict  and  conscientious  in  their 
Judaism,  or  those  who  were  lukewarm  and  sceptical,  more 
likely  to  be  led  into  Christianity,  when  Christ  came  ? 
Yet  in  proportion  to  their  previous  zeal,  would  be  their  40 
appearance  of  inconsistency.  Certainly,  I  have  always 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  299 

contended  that  obedience  even  to  an  erring  conscience 
was  the  way  to  gain  light,  and  that  it  mattered  not  where 
a  man  began,  so  that  he  began  on  what  came  to  hand, 
and  in  faith  ;  and  that  any  thing  might  become  a  divine 
method  of  Truth  ;  that  to  the  pure  all  things  are  pure, 
and  have  a  self -correcting  virtue  and  a  power  of  germinat 
ing.  And  though  I  have  no  right  at  all  to  assume  that 
this  mercy  is  granted  to  me,  yet  the  fact,  that  a  person 
in  my  situation  may  have  it  granted  to  him,  seems  to  me 

10  to  remove  the  perplexity  which  my  change  of  opinion  may 
occasion.  + 

"  It  may  be  said, — I  have  said  it  to  myself, — '  Why,  how 
ever,  did  you  publish  ?  had  you  waited  quietly,  you  would 
have  changed  your  opinion  without  any  of  the  misery, 
which  now  is  involved  in  the  change,  of  disappointing  and 
distressing  people.'  I  answer,  that  things  are  so  bound  up 
together,  as  to  form  a  whole,  and  one  cannot  tell  what  is 
or  is  not  a  condition  of  what.  I  do  not  see  how  possibly 
I  could  have  published  the  Tracts,  or  other  works  pro- 

20  fessing  to  defend  our  Church,  without  accompanying  them 
with  a  strong  protest  or  argument  against  Rome.  The  one 
obvious  objection  against  the  whole  Anglican  line  is,  that 
it  is  Roman  ;  so  that  I  really  think  there  was  no  alter 
native  between  silence  altogether,  and  forming  a  theory 
and  attacking  the  Roman  system." 

2.  And  now,  secondly,  as  to  my  Resignation  of  St.  Mary's, 
which  was  the  second  of  the  steps  which  I  took  in  1843. 
The  ostensible,  direct,  and  sufficient  cause  of  my  doing 
so  was  the  persevering  attack  of  the  Bishops  on  Tract  90. 

so  I  alluded  to  it  in  the  letter  which  I  have  inserted  above, 
addressed  to  one  of  the  most  influential  among  them. 
A  series  of  their  ex  cathedrd  judgments,  lasting  through 
three  years,  and  including  a  notice  of  no  little  severity  in 
a  Charge  of  my  own  Bishop,  came  as  near  to  a  condemna 
tion  of  my  Tract,  and,  so  far,  to  a  repudiation  of  the  ancient 
Catholic  doctrine,  which  was  the  scope  of  the  Tract,  as 
was  possible  in  the  Church  of  England.  It  was  in  order 
to  shield  the  Tract  from  such  a  condemnation,  that  I  had 
at  the  time  of  its  publication  (in  1841)  so  simply  put  myself 

26  secondly]  in  the  next  place  28  cause  of]  reason  for 


300  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

at  the  disposal  of  the  higher  powers  in  London.  At  that 
time,  all  that  was  distinctly  contemplated  in  the  way  of 
censure,  was  (contained  in)  the  message  which  my  Bishop 
sent  me,  that  it  was  "  objectionable."  That  I  thought  was 
the  end  of  the  matter.  I  had  refused  to  suppress  it,  and 
they  had  yielded  that  point.  Since  I  wrote  the  former 
portions  of  this  narrative,  I  have  found  what  I  wrote  to 
Dr.  Pusey  on  March  24,  while  the  matter  was  in  progress. 
"  The  more  I  think  of  it,"  I  said,  "  the  more  reluctant  I  am 
to  suppress  Tract  90,  though  of  course  I  will  do  it  if  the  10 
Bishop  wishes  ijb ;  I  cannot,  however,  deny  that  I  shall  feel 
it  a  severe  act."  According  to  the  notes  which  I  took  of 
the  letters  or  messages  which  I  sent  to  him  in  the  course 
of  that  day,  I  went  on  to  say,  "  My  first  feeling  was  to 
obey  without  a  word  ;  I  will  obey  still ;  but  my  judgment 
has  steadily  risen  against  it  ever  since."  Then  in  the 
Postscript,  "  If  I  have  done  any  good  to  the  Church,  I  do 
ask  the  Bishop  this  favour,  as  my  reward  for  it,  that  he 
would  not  insist  on  a  measure,  from  which  I  think  good 
will  not  come.  However,  I  will  submit  to  him."  After-  20 
wards,  I  get  stronger  still  (and  wrote)  :  "I  have  almost 
come  to  the  resolution,  if  the  Bishop  publicly  intimates 
that  I  must  suppress  the  Tract,  or  speaks  strongly  in  his 
charge  against  it,  to  suppress  it  indeed,  but  to  resign  my 
living  also.  I  could  not  in  conscience  act  otherwise.  You 
may  show  this  in  any  quarter  you  please." 

All  my  then  hopes,  all  my  satisfaction  at  the  apparent 
fulfilment  of  those  hopes,  were  at  an  end  in  1843.  It  is  not 
wonderful  then,  that  in  May  of  that  year(,  when  two  out 
of  the  three  years  were  gone,}  I  addressed  a  letter  on  the  so 
subject  of  (my  retiring  from)  St.  Mary's  to  the  same  friend, 
whom  I  had  consulted  about  retiring  from  it  in  1840.  But 
I  did  more  now  ;  I  told  him  my  great  unsettlement  of 
mind  on  the  question  of  the  Churches.  I  will  insert  por 
tions  of  two  of  my  letters  : — 

"  May  4,  1843 At  present  I  fear,  as  far  as  I  can 

analyze  my  own  convictions,  I  consider  the  Roman  Catholic 

6  wrote]  published 

14  went  on  to  say]  presently  wrote  to  him  21  get]  got 

28  ,  were]  was  30  addressed  a  letter]  wrote 

32  about  retiring  from]  upon  % 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  301 

Communion  to  be  the  Church  of  the  Apostles,  and  that 
what  grace  is  among  us  (which,  through  God's  mercy,  is 
not  little)  is  extraordinary,  and  from  the  overflowings  of 
His  dispensation.  I  am  very  far  more  sure  that  England 
is  in  schism,  than  that  the  Roman  additions  to  the  Primitive 
Creed  may  not  be  developments,  arising  out  of  a  keen  and 
vivid  realizing  of  the  Divine  Depositum  of  Faith. 

"  You  will  now  understand  what  gives  edge  to  the 
Bishops'  Charges,  without  any  undue  sensitiveness  on  my 

10  part.  They  distress  me  in  two  ways  : — first,  as  being  in 
some  sense  protests  and  witnesses  to  my  conscience  against 
my  own  unfaithfulness  to  the  English  Church,  and  next, 
as  being  samples  of  her  teaching,  and  tokens  how  very  far 
she  is  from  even  aspiring  to  Catholicity. 

"  Of  course  my  being  unfaithful  to  a  trust  is  my  great 
subject  of  dread, — as  it  has  long  been,  as  you  know." 

When  he  wrote  to  make  natural  objections  to  my  pur 
pose,  such  as  the  apprehension  that  the  removal  of  clerical 
obligations  might  have  the  indirect  effect  of  propelling 

20  me  towards  Rome,  I  answered  : — 

"  May  18,  1843.  ...  My  office  or  charge  at  St.  Mary's 
is  not  a  mere  state,  but  a  continual  energy.  People  assume 
and  assert  certain  things  of  me  in  consequence.  With  what 
sort  of  sincerity  can  I  obey  the  Bishop  ?  how  am  I  to  act 
in  the  frequent  cases,  in  which  »one  way  or  another  the 
Church  of  Rome  comes  into  consideration  ?  I  have  to  the 
utmost  of  my  power  tried  to  keep  persons  from  Rome,  and 
with  some  success  ;  but  even  a  year  and  a  half  since,  my 
arguments,  though  more  efficacious  with  the  persons 

30  I  aimed  at  than  any  others  could  be,  were  of  a  nature  to 
infuse  great  suspicion  of  me  into  the  minds  of  lookers-on. 
"  By  retaining  St.  Mary's,  I  am  an  offence  and  a 
stumbling-block.  Persons  are  keen -sighted  enough  to 
make  out  what  I  think  on  certain  points,  and  then  they 
infer  that  such  opinions  are  compatible  with  holding  situa 
tions  of  trust  in  our  Church.  A  number  of  younger  men 
take  the  validity  of  their  interpretation  of  the  Articles, 
&c.,  from  me  on  faith.  Is  not  my  present  position  a  cruelty, 
as  well  as  a  treachery  towards  the  Church  ? 

40  "  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  either  preach  or  publish  again, 
while  I  hold  St.  Mary's  ; — but  consider  again  the  following 


302  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

difficulty  in  such  a  resolution,  which  I  must  state  at  some 
length. 

"  Last  Long  Vacation  the  idea  suggested  itself  to  me 
of  publishing  the  Lives  of  the  English  Saints  ;  and  I  had 
a  conversation  with  [a  publisher]  upon  it.  I  thought  it 
would  be  useful,  as  employing  the  minds  of  men  who  were 
in  danger  of  running  wild,  bringing  them  from  doctrine  to 
history,  and  from  speculation  to  fact ; — again,  as  giving 
them  an  interest  in  the  English  soil,  and  the  English 
Church,  and  keeping  them  from  seeking  sympathy  in  10 
Rome,  as  she  is  ;  and  further,  as  seeking  to  promote  the 
spread  of  right  views. 

"  But,  within  the  last  month,  it  has  come  upon  me,  that, 
if  the  scheme  goes  on,  it  will  be  a  practical  carrying  out 
of  No.  90  ;  from  the  character  of  the  usages  and  opinions  of 
ante -reformation  times. 

"It  is  easy  to  say,  '  Why  will  you  do  any  thing  ?  why 
won't  you  keep  quiet  ?  what  business  had  you  to  think 
of  any  such  plan  at  all  ?  '  But  I  cannot  leave  a  number  of 
poor  fellows  in  the  lurch.  I  am  bound  to  do  my  best  for  20 
a  great  number  of  people  both  in  Oxford  and  elsewhere. 
If  /  did  not  act,  others  would  find  means  to  do  so. 

"  Well,  the  plan  has  been  taken  up  with  great  eagerness 
and  interest.  Many  men  are  setting  to  work.  I  set  down 
the  names  of  men,  most  of  them  engaged,  the  rest  half 
engaged  and  probable,  some  actually  writing."  About 
thirty  names  follow,  some  of  them  at  that  time  of  the  school 
of  Dr.  Arnold,  others  of  Dr.  Pusey's,  some  my  personal 
friends  and  of  my  own  standing,  others  whom  I  hardly 
knew,  while  of  course  the  majority  were  of  the  party  of  the  so 
new  Movement.  I  continue  : — 

"  The  plan  has  gone  so  far,  that  it  would  create  surprise 
and  talk,  were  it  now  suddenly  given  over.  Yet  how 
is  it  compatible  with  my  holding  St.  Mary's,  being  what 
I  am  ?  " 

Such  was  the  object  and  the  origin  of  the  projected 
Series  of  the  English  Saints  ;  and,  as  the  publication  was 
connected,  as  has  been  seen,  with  my  resignation  of 

5  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]  11  seeking]  tending 

35  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  18G5.          37  as  the]  since  the 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  303 

St.  Mary's,  I  may  be  allowed  to  conclude  what  I  have  to 
say  on  the  subject  here,  though  it  will  read  like  a  digression. 
As  soon  then  as  the  first  of  the  Series  got  into  print,  the 
whole  project  broke  down.  I  had  already  anticipated  that 
some  portions  of  the  Series  would  be  written  in  a  style 
inconsistent  with  the  professions  of  a  beneficed  clergyman, 
and  therefore  I  had  given  up  my  Living  ;  but  men  of  great 
weight  went  further  (in  their  misgivings  than  I),  when  they 
saw  the  Life  of  St.  Stephen  Harding,  and  decided  that  it 

10  was  of  [such]  a  character  [as  to  be]  inconsistent  even  with 
its  being  given  to  the  world  by  an  Anglican  publisher  : 
and  so  the  scheme  was  given  up  at  once.  After  the  two  first 
parts,  I  retired  from  the  Editorship,  and  those  Lives  only 
were  published  in  addition,  which  were  then  already 
finished,  or  in  advanced  preparation.  The  following 
passages  from  what  I  or  others  wrote  at  the  time  will 
illustrate  what  I  have  been  saying  : — 

In    November,    1844,    I    wrote    thus    to    one    of    the 
authors  of  them  :    "  I  am  not  Editor,  I  have  no  direct 

20  control  over  the  Series.  It  is  T.'s  work  ;  he  may  admit 
what  he  pleases  ;  and  exclude  what  he  pleases.  I  was 
to  have  been  Editor.  I  did  edit  the  two  first  numbers.  I  was 
responsible  for  them,  in  the  way  in  which  an  Editor  is 
responsible.  Had  I  continued  Editor,  I  should  have 
exercised  a  control  over  all.  I  laid  down  in  the  Preface  that 
doctrinal  subjects  were,  if  possible,  to  be  excluded.  But, 
even  then,  I  also  set  down  that  no  writer  was  to  be  held 
answerable  for  any  of  the  Lives  but  his  own.  When 
I  gave  up  the  Editorship,  I  had  various  engagements  with 

so  friends  for  separate  Lives  remaining  on  my  hands.  I  should 
have  liked  to  have  broken  from  them  all,  but  there  were 
some  from  which  I  could  not  break,  and  I  let  them  take 
their  course.  Some  have  come  to  nothing  ;  others  like 
yours  have  gone  on.  I  have  seen  such,  either  in  MS.  or 
Proof.  As  time  goes  on,  I  shall  have  less  and  less  to  do 
with  the  Series.  I  think  the  engagement  between  you  and 
me  should  come  to  an  end.  I  have  any  how  abundant 
responsibility  on  me,  and  too  much.  I  shall  write  to  T. 

2  will]  may  11  being  given  to  the  world  by]  proceeding  from 

13  parts]  numbers  1 8-19  one  of  the  authors  of]  the  author  of  one  of 


304  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

that  if  he  wants  the  advantage  of  your  assistance,  he  must 
write  to  you  direct." 

In  accordance  with  this  letter,  I  had  already  advertised 
in  January  1844,  ten  months  before  it,  that  "  other 
Lives,"  after  St.  Stephen  Harding,  "  will  be  published 
by  their  respective  authors  on  their  own  responsibility." 
This  notice  is  repeated  in  February,  in  the  advertisement 
to  the  second  volume  entitled  "  The  Family  of  St.  Richard," 
though  to  this  volume  [also],  for  some  reason  (which  I 
cannot  now  recollect),  I  also  put  my  initials.  In  the  Life  10 
of  St.  Augustine,  the  author,  a  man  of  nearly  my  own  age, 
says  in  like  manner,  "  No  one  but  himself  is  responsible 
for  the  way  in  which  these  materials  have  been  used."  I 
have  in  MS.  another  advertisement  to  the  same  effect,  but 
I  cannot  tell  whether  it  was  ever  put  into  print. 

I  will  add,  since  the  authors  have  been  considered  hot 
headed  boys,  whom  I  was  in  charge  of  and  whom  I  suffered 
to  do  intemperate  things,  that,  while  the  writer  of  St.  Augus 
tine  was  of  the  mature  age  which  I ,  have  stated,  (the 
author  of  the  proposed  Life  of  St.  Boniface,  Mr.  Bowdeii,  20 
was  forty-six  ;  Mr.  Johnson,  who  was  to  write  St.  Aldhelm, 
forty-three  ;  and)  most  of  the  others  were  on  one  side  or 
other  of  thirty.  Three(,  I  think,)  were  under  twenty-five. 
Moreover,  of  these  writers  some  became  Catholics,  some 
remained  Anglicans,  and  others  have  professed  what  are 
called  free  or  liberal  opinions  (1). 

The  immediate  cause  of  the  resignation  of  my  Living  is 
stated  in  the  following  letter,  which  I  wrote  to  my  Bishop  : — 

"  August  29,  1843.  It  is  with  much  concern  that  I 
inform  your  Lordship,  that  Mr.  A.  B.,  who  has  been  for  30 
the  last  year  an  inmate  of  my  house  here,  has  just  conformed 
to  the  Church  of  Rome.  As  I  have  ever  been  desirous,  not 
only  of  faithfully  discharging  the  trust,  which  is  involved 
in  holding  a  living  in  your  Lordship's  diocese,  but  of 
approving  myself  to  your  Lordship,  I  will  for  your  informa- 

5  "  will  be]  would  "  be  7  is]  was 

8,  9  volume]  number  15  was  ever  put  into]  ever  appeared  in 

16-17  hot-headed  boys]  "  hot-headed  fanatic  young  men  " 

19  of  the  mature  age  which  I  have  stated]  in  1844  past  forty 

26  Footnote  in  1865.    <*  Vide  Note  D,  Lives  of  the  English  Saints.} 

26  A  space  was  left  after  this  line  in  186G. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  305 

tion  state  one  or  two  circumstances  connected  with  this 

unfortunate  event I  received  him  on  condition  of 

his  promising  me,  which  he  distinctly  did,  that  he  would 
remain  quietly  in  our  Church  for  three  years.  A  year  has 
passed  since  that  time,  and,  though  I  saw  nothing  in  him 
which  promised  that  he  would  eventually  be  contented 
with  his  present  position,  yet  for  the  time  his  mind  became 
as  settled  as  one  could  wish,  and  he  frequently  expressed 
his  satisfaction  at  being  under  the  promise  which  I  had 

10  exacted  of  him." 

I  felt  it  impossible  to  remain  any  longer  in  the  service  of 
the  Anglican  Church,  when  such  a  breach  of  trust,  however 
little  I  had  to  do  with  it,  would  be  laid  at  my  door.  I  wrote 
in  a  few  days  to  a  friend  : 

"  September  7,  1843.  I  this  day  ask  the  Bishop  leave 
to  resign  St.  Mary's.  Men  whom  you  little  think,  or  at 
least  whom  I  little  thought,  are  in  almost  a  hopeless  way. 
Really  we  may  expect  any  thing.  I  am  going  to  publish 
a  Volume  of  Sermons,  including  those  Four  against 

20  moving." 

I  resigned  my  living  on  September  (the)  18th.  I  had 
not  the  means  of  doing  it  legally  at  Oxford.  The  late 
Mr.  Goldsmid  aided  me  in  resigning  it  in  London.  I  found 
no  fault  with  the  Liberals  ;  they  had  beaten  me  in  a  fair 
field.  As  to  the  act  of  the  Bishops,  I  thought,  as  Walter 
Scott  has  applied  the  text,  that  they  had  "  seethed  the  kid 
in  his  mother's  milk." 

I  said  to  a  friend  : — 

"  Victrix  causa  diis  placuit,  sed  victa  Catoni." 

30  And  now  I  (may  be  almost  said  to)  have  brought  [almost] 
to  an  end,  as  far  as  this  sketch  has  to  treat  of  them,  the 
history  both  of  my  (changes  of  religious)  opinion[s,]  and 
of  the  public  acts  which  they  involved.  I  had  [only]  one 

23  aided]  was  kind  enough  to  aid 

25-6  as  Walter  Scott  has  applied  the  text]  to  borrow  a  Scriptural 
image  from  Walter  Scott 

31  this  sketch  has  to  treat  of  them]  is  necessary  for  a  sketch  such  as 
this  is 

33  I  had  one  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1865. 


306  HISTORY  OP  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

more  advance  of  mind  to  make  ;  and  (one  final  step  to 
take.)  that  (further  advance  of  mind)  was,  to  be*  (able 
honestly  to  say  that  I  was)  certain  of  what  I  had  hitherto 
anticipated,  concluded,  and  believed  ;  and  this  was  close 
upon  my  submission  to  the  Catholic  Church.  [And  I  had 
only  one  more  act  to  perform,  and  that  was  the  act  of 
submission  itself.]  But  two  years  yet  intervened  before 
the  date  of  these  final  events  ;  during  which  I  was  in 
lay  communion  in  the  Church  of  England,  attending  its 
services  as  usual,  and  abstaining  altogether  from  inter- 10 
course  with  Catholics,  from  their  places  of  worship,  and 
from  those  religious  rites  and  usages,  such  as  the  Invocation 
of  Saints,  which  are  characteristics  of  their  creed.  I  did 
all  this  on  principle  ;  for  I  never  could  understand  how 
a  man  could  be  of  two  religions  at  once. 

[What  then  I  now  have  to  add  is  of  a  private  nature, 
being  my  preparation  for  the  great  event,  for  which  I  was 
waiting,  in  the  interval  between  the  autumns  of  1843  and 
1845. 

And  I  shall  almost  confine]  what  I  have  to  say  (about  20 
myself  between  these  two  autumns  I  shall  almost  confine) 
to  this  one  point,( — )the  difficulty  I  was  in  as  to  the  best 
mode  of  revealing  the  state  of  my  mind  to  my  friends  and 
others,  and  how  I  managed  to  do  it. 

Up  to  January,  1842,  I  had  not  disclosed  my  state 
of  unsettlement  to  more  than  three  persons,  as  has  been 
mentioned  above,  and  (as)  is  repeated  in  the  (course  of 
the)  letters  which  I  am  now  about  to  give  to  the  reader. 


1  more]  final  1  make  ;]  accomplish,  2  that]  That 

3-5  what  I  had  .  .  .  close  upon  my  submission]  the  conclusions  at 
which  I  had  already  arrived.  That  further  step,  imperative  when  such 
certitude  was  attained,  was  my  submission 

7-8  But  two  years  .  .  .  events ;  during  which]  new  paragraph :  This 
submission  did  not  take  place  till  two  full  years  after  the  resignation 
of  my  living  in  September  1843  ;  nor  could  I  have  made  it  at  an 
earlier  day,  without  doubt  and  apprehension,  that  is,  with  any  true 
conviction  of  mind  or  certitude. 

In  the  interval,  of  which  it  remains  to  speak,  viz.  between  the  autumns 
of  1843  and  1845, 

9  communion  in]  communion  with 

24  do]  reveal 

24  After  this  line  a  space  was  left  in  1865. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  307 

To  two  of  them,  intimate  and  familiar  companions,  in  the 
Autumn  of  1839  :  to  the  third,  an  old  friend  too,  (whom 
I  have  named  above,}  when,  I  suppose,  I  was  in  great 
distress  of  mind  upon  the  affair  of  the  Jerusalem  Bishopric. 
In  May,  1843,  I  mentioned  it(,  as  has  been  seen,)  to  the 
friend,  by  whose  advice  I  wished,  as  far  as  possible,  to  be 
guided.  To  mention  it  on  set  purpose  to  any  one,  unless 
indeed  I  was  asking  advice,  I  should  have  felt  to  be  a 
crime.  ^  If  there  is  any  thing  that  was  [and  is]  abhorrent 

10  to  me,  it  is  the  scattering  doubts,  and  unsettling  consciences 
without  necessity.  A  strong  presentiment  that  my  existing 
opinions  would  ultimately  give  way,  and  that  the  grounds 
of  them  were  unsound,  was  not  a  sufficient  warrant  for 
disclosing  the  state  of  my  mind.  I  had  no  guarantee  yet, 
that  that  presentiment  would  be  realized.  Supposing  I  were 
crossing  ice,  which  came  right  in  my  way,  which  I  had  good 
reasons  for  considering  sound,  and  which  I  saw  numbers 
before  me  crossing  in  safety,  and  supposing  a  stranger 
from  the  bank,  in  a  voice  of  authority,  and  in  an  earnest 

20  tone,  warned  me  that  it  was  dangerous,  and  then  was 
silent,  I  think  I  should  be  startled,  and  should  look  about 
me  anxiously,  but  (I  think  too  that)  I  [also]  should  go  on, 
till  I  had  better  grounds  for  doubt ;  and  such  was  my 
state,  I  believe,  till  the  end  of  1842.  Then  again,  when  my 
dissatisfaction  became  greater,  it  was  hard  at  first  to 
determine  the  point  of  time,  when  it  was  too  strong  to 
suppress  with  propriety.  Certitude  of  course  is  a  point, 
but  doubt  is  a  progress  ;  I  was  not  near  certitude  yet.  \ 
Certitude  is  a  reflex  action  ;  it  is  to  know  that  one  j 

30  knows.  I  believe  I  had  not  that,  till  close  upon  my  \ 
reception  into  the  Catholic  Church.  Again,  a  practical, 
effective  doubt  is  a  point  too,  but  who  can  easily  ascertain 
it  for  himself  ?  Who  can  determine  when  it  is,  that  the 
scales  in  the  balance  of  opinion  begin  to  turn,  and  what 
was  a  greater  probability  in  behalf  of  a  belief  becomes 
a  positive  doubt  against  it  ? 

In  considering  this  question  in  its  bearing  upon  my 
conduct  in   1843,   my  own  simple  answer  to   my  great 

5  mentioned  it]  made  it  known  10  it  is]  it  was 

30  I  believe  I  had  not  that]  Of  that  I  believe  I  was  not  possessed 


10 


308  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

difficulty  was,  Do  what  your  present  state  of  opinion  requires 
(in  the  light  of  duty),  and  let  that  doing  tell :  speak  by  acts. 
This  I  did  ;  my  first  act  of  the  year  was  in  February [,  1843]. 
After  three  months'  deliberation  I  (had)  published  my 
retractation  of  the  violent  charges  which  I  had  made  against 
Rome  :  I  could  not  be  wrong  in  doing  so  much  as  this  ; 
but  I  did  no  more  (at  the  time)  :  I  did  not  retract  my 
Anglican  teaching.  My  second  act  was  in  September  (in 
the  same  year)  ;  after  much  sorrowful  lingering  and  hesita 
tion,  I  (had)  resigned  my  Living.  I  tried  indeed(,  before 
I  did  so,)  to  keep  Littlemore  for  myself,  even  though  it 
was  still  to  remain  an  integral  part  of  St.  Mary's.  (I  had 
given  to  it  a  Church  and  a  sort  of  Parsonage  ;)  I  had  made 
it  a  Parish,  and  I  loved  it ;  but  I  did  not  succeed  in  my 
attempt.  I  could  indeed  bear  to  become  the  curate  at  will 
of  another,  but  I  hoped  [still  that]  (an  arrangement  was 
possible,  by  which,  while  I  had  the  curacy,)  I  might  have 
been  my  own  master  there.  I  had  hoped  an  exception 
might  have  been  made  in  my  favour,  under  the  circum 
stances  ;  but  I  did  not  gain  my  request.  Indeed,  I  was  20 
asking  what  was  impracticable,  and  it  is  well  for  me  that 
it  was  so. 

These  were  my  two  acts  of  the  year,  and  I  said,  "  I  cannot 
be  wrong  in  making  them  ;  let  that  follow  which  must  follow 
in  the  thoughts  of  the  world  about  me,  when  they  see  what 
I  do."  (And,  as  time  went  on,)  They  fully  answered  my 
purpose.  What  I  felt  as  a  simple  duty  to  do,  did  create 
a  general  suspicion  about  me,  without  such  responsibility 
as  would  be  involved  in  my  taking  the  initiative  in 
creating  it.  Then,  when  friends  wrote  me  on  the  subject,  30 
I  either  did  not  deny  or  I  confessed  it,  according  to  the 
character  and  need  of  their  letters.  Sometimes,  in 
the  case  of  intimate  friends,  whom  I  seemed  to  leave 

1,  3,  8  was]  had  been  3  did]  had  done 

14-15  but  I  did  not  succeed  in  my  attempt]  I  thought  in  1843  that 
perhaps  I  need  not  forfeit  my  existing  relations  towards  it 
15  bear]  submit  18  there]  in  serving  it 

20  Indeed,]  Perhaps  23  were]  had  been  27  felt  as]  felt  it 

29  taking  the  initiative  in]  initiating  any  direct  act  for  the  sake  of 
31  it]  my  state  of  mind 
33  seemed  to  leave]  should  otherwise  have  been  leaving 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  309 

in  ignorance  of  what  others  knew  about  me,  I  invited  the 
question. 

And  here  comes  in  another  point  for  explanation.  While 
I  was  fighting  (in  Oxford)  for  the  Anglican  Church  [in 
Oxford],  then  indeed  I  was  very  glad  to  make  converts, 
and,  though  I  never  broke  away  from  that  rule  of  my 
mind,  (as  I  may  call  it,)  of  which  I  have  already  spoken, 
of  finding  disciples  rather  than  seeking  them,  yet,  that 
I  made  advances  to  others  in  a  special  way,  I  have  no  doubt ; 

10  this  came  to  an  end,  however,  as  soon  as  I  fell  into  mis 
givings  as  to  the  true  ground  to  be  taken  in  the  controversy. 
(For)  Then,  when  I  gave  up  my  place  in  the  Movement, 
I  ceased  from  any  such  proceeding(s)  :  and  my  utmost 
endeavour  was  to  tranquillize  such  persons,  especially 
those  who  belonged  to  the  new  school,  as  were  unsettled 
in  their  religious  views,  and,  as  I  judged,  hasty  in  their 
conclusions.  This  went  on  till  1843  ;  but,  at  that  date,  as 
soon  as  I  turned  my  face  Homeward,  I  gave  up  [altogether 
and  in  any  shape],  as  far  as  ever  was  possible,  the  thought 

20  of  (in  any  respect  and  in  any  shape)  acting  upon  others. 
Then  I  myself  was  simply  my  own  concern.  How  could 
I  in  any  sense  direct  others,  who  had  to  be  guided  in  so 
momentous  a  matter  myself  ?  How  could  I  be  considered 
in  a  position,  even  to  say  a  word  to  them  one  way  or  the 
other  ?  How  could  I  presume  to  unsettle  them,  as  I  was 
unsettled,  when  I  had  no  means  of  bringing  them  out  of 
such  unsettlement  ?  And,  if  they  were  unsettled  already, 
how  could  I  point  to  them  a  place  of  refuge,  which  I  was 
not  sure  that  I  should  choose  for  myself  ?  My  only 

so  line,  my  only  duty,  was  to  keep  simply  to  my  own  case. 
I  recollected  Pascal's  words,  "  Je  mourrai  seul."  I  deliber 
ately  put  out  of  my  thoughts  all  other  works  and  claims, 
and  said  nothing  to  any  one,  unless  I  was  obliged. 

But  this  brought  upon  me  a  great  trouble.  In  the 
newspapers  there  were  continual  reports  about  my  inten 
tions  ;  I  did  not  answer  them  ;  presently  strangers  or 
friends  wrote,  begging  to  be  allowed  to  answer  them  ;  and, 
if  I  still  kept  to  my  resolution  and  said  nothing,  then  I  was 
thought  to  be  mysterious,  and  a  prejudice  was  excited 

1  about  me]  on  every  side  of  them 

28-9  which  .  .  .  choose]  when  .  .  .  choose  it 


310  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

against  me  But,  what  was  far  worse,  there  were  a  number 
of  tender,  eager  hearts,  of  whom  I  knew  nothing  at  all, 
who  were  watching  me,  wishing  to  think  as  I  thought, 
and  to  do  as  I  did,  if  they  could  but  find  it  out ;  who  in 
consequence  were  distressed,  that,  in  so  solemn  a  matter, 
they  could  not  see  what  was  coming,  and  who  heard 
reports  about  me  this  way  or  that,  on  a  first  day  and  on 
a  second  ;  and  felt  the  weariness  of  waiting,  and  the 
sickness  of  delayed  hope,  and  did  not  understand  that  I  was 
as  perplexed  as  themselves,  and,  being  of  more  sensitive  10 
complexion  of  mind  than  myself,  were  made  ill  by  the 
suspense.  And  they  too  of  course  for  the  time  thought  me 
mysterious  and  inexplicable.  I  ask  their  pardon  as  far  as 
I  was  really  unkind  to  them.  There  was  a  gifted  and 
deeply  earnest  lady,  who  in  a  parabolical  account  of  that 
time,  has  described  both  my  conduct  as  she  felt  it,  and 
that  of  such  as  herself.  In  a  singularly  graphic,  amusing 
vision  of  pilgrims,  who  were  making  their  way  across 
a  bleak  common  in  great  discomfort,  and  who  were  ever 
warned  against,  yet  continuaUy  nearing,  "  the  king's  high-  20 
way"  on  the  right,  she  says,  "  All  my  fears  and  disquiets 
were  speedily  renewed  by  seeing  the  most  daring  of  our 
leaders,  (the  same  who  had  first  forced  his  way  through  the 
palisade,  and  in  whose  courage  and  sagacity  we  all  put 
implicit  trust,)  suddenly  stop  short,  and  declare  that  he 
would  go  on  no  further.  He  did  not,  however,  take  the 
leap  at  once,  but  quietly  sat  down  on  the  top  of  the  fence 
with  his  feet  hanging  towards  the  road,  as  if  he  meant  to 
take  his  time  about  it,  and  let  himself  down  easily." 
I  do  not  wonder  at  ah1  that  I  thus  seemed  so  unkind  to  so 
a  lady,  who.  at  that  time  had  never  seen  me.  We  were  both 
in  trial  in  our  different  ways.  I  am  far  from  denying  that 
I  was  acting  selfishly  both  towards  them  and  towards  others ; 
but  it  was  a  religious  selfishness.  Certainly  to  myself  my 
own  duty  seemed  clear.  They  that  are  whole  can  heal 
others  ;  but  in  my  case  it  was,  "  Physician,  heal  thyself." 
My  own  soul  was  my  first  concern,  and  it  seemed  an 
absurdity  to  my  reason  to  be  converted  in  partnership. 
I  wished  to  go  to  my  Lord  by  myself,  and  in  my  own  way, 

10  themselves]  they  were 

33  towards  them  and  towards  others]  in  her  case  and  in  that  of  others 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  *311 

or  rather  His  way.  I  had  neither  wish,  nor,  I  may  say, 
thought  of  taking  a  number  with  me.  (Moreover,  it  is 
but  the  truth  to  say,  that  it  had  ever  been  an  annoyance 
to  me  to  seem  to  be  the  head  of  a  party  ;  and  that  even 
from  fastidiousness  of  mind,  I  could  not  bear  to  find 
a  thing  done  elsewhere,  simply  or  mainly  because  I  did  it 
myself,  and  that,  from  distrust  of  myself,  I  shrank  from 
the  thought,  whenever  it  was  brought  home  to  me,  that 
I  was  influencing  others.)  But  nothing  of  this  could  be 

10  known  to  others. 

The  following  three  letters  are  written  to  a  friend,  who 
had  every  claim  upon  me  to  be  frank  with  him  : — it  will 
be  seen  that  I  disclose  the  real  state  of  (my)  mind  [to  him,] 
in  proportion  as  he  presses  me. 

1.  "  October  14,  1843.  I  would  tell  you  in  a  few  words 
why  I  have  resigned  St.  Mary's,  as  you  seem  to  wish,  were 
it  possible  to  do  so.  But  it  is  most  difficult  to  bring  out 
in  brief,  or  even  in  extenso,  any  just  view  of  my  feelings 
and  reasons. 

20  '  The  nearest  approach  I  can  give  to  a  general  account 
of  them  is  to  say,  that  it  has  been  caused  by  the  general 
repudiation  of  the  view,  contained  in  No.  90,  on  the  part 
of  the  Church.  I  could  not  stand  against  such  an  unanimous 
expression  of  opinion  from  the  Bishops,  supported,  as  it 
has  been,  by  the  concurrence,  or  at  least  silence,  of  all 
classes  in  the  Church,  lay  and  clerical.  If  there  ever  was 
a  case,  in  which  an  individual  teacher  has  been  put  aside 
and  virtually  put  away  by  a  community,  mine  is  one. 
No  decency  has  been  observed  in  the  attacks  upon  me  from 

so  authority  ;  no  protests  have  been  offered  against  them. 
It  is  felt, — I  am  far  from  denying,  justly  felt, — that  I  am 
a  foreign  material,  and  cannot  assimilate  with  the  Church 
of  England. 

"  Even  my  own  Bishop  has  said  that  my  mode  of  inter  - 
preting  the  Articles  makes  them  mean  any  thing  or  nothing. 
When  I  heard  this  delivered,  I  did  not  believe  my  ears. 
I  denied  to  others  that  it  was  said.  .  .  .  Out  came  the  charge, 
and  the  words  could  not  be  mistaken.  This  astonished  me 
the  more,  because  I  published  that  Letter  to  him,  (how 

10  others]  the  world         12  him  1864, 1865]  him,  Archdeacon  Manning  1873 


312  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

unwillingly  you  know,)  on  the  understanding  that  /  was 
to  deliver  his  judgment  on  No.  90  instead  of  him.  A  year 
elapses,  and  a  second  and  heavier  judgment  came  forth. 
I  did  not  bargain  for  this, — nor  did  he,  but  the  tide  was  too 
strong  for  him. 

"  I  fear  that  I  must  confess,  that,  in  proportion  as  I  think 
the  English  Church  is  showing  herself  intrinsically  and 
radically  alien  from  Catholic  principles,  so  do  I  feel  the 
difficulties  of  defending  her  claims  to  be  a  branch  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  It  seems  a  dream  to  call  a  communion  10 
Catholic,  when  one  can  neither  appeal  to  any  clear  state 
ment  of  Catholic  doctrine  in  its  formularies,  nor  interpret 
ambiguous  formularies  by  the  received  and  living  Catholic 
sense,  whether  past  or  present.  Men  of  Catholic  views  are 
too  truly  but  a  party  in  our  Church.  I  cannot  deny 
that  many  other  independent  circumstances,  which  it  is 
not  worth  while  entering  into,  have  led  me  to  the  same  con 
clusion. 

"  I  do  not  say  all  this  to  every  body,  as  you  may  suppose  ; 
but  I  do  not  like  to  make  a  secret  of  it  to  you."  20 

2.  "  Oct.  25,  1843.  You  have  engaged  in  a  dangerous 
correspondence  ;  I  am  deeply  sorry  for  the  pain  I  shall 
give  you. 

"  I  must  tell  you  then  frankly,  (but  I  combat  arguments 
which  to  me,  alas,  are  shadows,)  that  it  is  not  from  disap 
pointment,  irritation,  or  impatience,  that  I  have,  whether 
rightly  or  wrongly,  resigned  St.  Mary's  ;  but  because 
I  think  the  Church  of  Rome  the  Catholic  Church,  and 
ours  not  part  of  the  Catholic  Church,  because  not  in  com 
munion  with  Rome  ;  and  because  I  feel  that  I  could  not  so 
honestly  be  a  teacher  in  it  any  longer." 

"  This  thought  came  to  me  last  summer  four  years.  .  . 
I  mentioned  it  to  two  friends  in  the  autumn.  .  .  It  arose  in 
the  first  instance  from  the  Monophysite  and  Donatist 
controversies,  the  former  of  which  I  was  engaged  with  in 
the  course  of  theological  study  to  which  I  had  given  myself. 
This  was  at  a  time  when  no  Bishop,  I  believe,  had  declared 
against  us,  (2)  and  when  all  was  progress  and  hope.  I  do 
not  think  I  have  ever  felt  disappointment  or  impatience, 

Footnote  in  1865.  (z  I  think  Sumner,  Bishop  of  Chester,  must  have 
done  so  already.) 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  313 

certainly  not  then  ;  for  I  never  looked  forward  to  the  future, 
nor  do  I  realize  it  now. 

"  My  first  effort  was  to  write  that  article  on  the  Catho 
licity  of  the  English  Church  ;  for  two  years  it  quieted  me. 
Since  the  summer  of  1839  I  have  written  little  or  nothing 
on  modern  controversy.  .  .  You  know  how  unwillingly 
I  wrote  my  letter  to  the  Bishop  in  which  I  committed 
myself  again,  as  the  safest  course  under  circumstances. 
The  article  I  speak  of  quieted  me  till  the  end  of  1841,  over 
10  the  affair  of  No.  90,  when  that  wretched  Jerusalem  Bishopric 
(no  personal  matter)  revived  all  my  alarms.  They  have 
increased  up  to  this  moment.  At  that  time  I  told  my  secret 
to  another  person  in  addition. 

"  You  see  then  that  the  various  ecclesiastical  and  quasi- 
ecclesiastical  acts,  which  have  taken  place  in  the  course 
of  the  last  two  years  and  a  half,  are  not  the  cause  of  my 
state  of  opinion,  but  are  keen  stimulants  and  weighty 
confirmations  of  a  conviction  forced  upon  me,  while 
engaged  in  the  course  of  duty,  viz.  that  theological  reading 
20  to  which  I  had  given  myself.  And  this  last -mentioned 
circumstance  is  a  fact,  which  has  never,  I  think,  come  before 
me  till  now  that  I  write  to  you. 

"It  is  three  years  since,  on  account  of  my  state  of 
opinion,  I  urged  the  Provost  in  vain  to  let  St.  Mary's 
be  separated  from  Littlemore  ;  thinking  I  might  with 
a  safe  conscience  serve  the  latter,  though  I  could  not  com 
fortably  continue  in  so  public  a  place  as  a  University. 
This  was  before  No.  90. 

"  Finally,  I  have  acted  under  advice,  and  that,  not  of 
so  my  own  choosing,  but  what  came  to  me  in  the  way  of  duty, 
nor  the  advice  of  those  only  who  agree  with  me,  but  of  near 
friends  who  differ  from  me. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with,  as  far  as  I  see, 
in  the  matter  of  impatience  ;  i.e.  practically  or  in  conduct. 
And  I  trust  that  He,  who  has  kept  me  in  the  slow  course  of 
change  hitherto,  will  keep  me  still  from  hasty  acts(,)  or 
resolves  with  a  doubtful  conscience. 

"  This  I  am  sure  of,  that  such  interposition  as  yours, 

kind  as  it  is,  only  does  what  you  would  consider  harm. 

40  It  makes  me  realizeTmy  own  views  to  myself  ;    it  makes 

me  see  their  consistency ;  it  assures  me  of  my  own  deliberate- 


314  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

ness  ;  it  suggests  to  me  the  traces  of  a  Providential  Hand  ; 
it  takes  away  the  pain  of  disclosures  ;  it  relieves  me  of 
a  heavy  secret. 

"  You  may  make  what  use  of  my  letters  you  think  right." 

(3.)  My  correspondent  wrote  to  me  once  more,  and 
I  replied  thus  :  "  October  31,  1843.  Your  letter  has  made 
my  heart  ache  more,  and  caused  me  more  and  deeper  sighs 
than  any  I  have  had  a  long  while,  though  I  assure  you 
there  is  much  on  all  sides  of  me  to  cause  sighing  and 
heart -ache.  On  all  sides(: — )  I  am  quite  haunted  by  the  10 
one  dreadful  whisper  repeated  from  so  many  quarters, 
and  causing  the  keenest  distress  to  friends.  You  know  but 
a  part  of  my  present  trial,  in  knowing  that  I  am  unsettled 
myself. 

"  Since  the  beginning  of  this  year  I  have  been  obliged 
to  tell  the  state  of  my  mind  to  some  others  ;  but  never, 
I  think,  without  being  in  a  way  obliged,  as  from  friends 
writing  to  me  as  you  did,  or  guessing  how  matters  stood. 
No  one  in  Oxford  knows  it  or  here  "  [Littlemore],  "  but 
one  (near)  friend  whom  I  felt  I  could  not  help  telling  the  20 
other  day.  But,  I  suppose,  [very]  many  (more)  suspect  it." 

On  receiving  these  letters,  my  correspondent,  if  I  recol 
lect  rightly,  at  once  communicated  the  matter  of  them  to 
Dr.  Pusey,  and  this  will  enable  me  to  state  as  nearly  as 
I  can(,)  the  way  in  which  (he  first  became  aware  of)  my 
changed  state  of  opinion  [was  made  known  to  him]. 

I  had  from  the  first  a  great  difficulty  in  making  Dr.  Pusey 
understand  such  differences  of  opinion  as  existed  between 
himself  and  me.  When  there  was  a  proposal  about  the 
end  of  1838  for  a  subscription  for  a  Cranmer  Memorial,  so 
he  wished  us  both  to  subscribe  together  to  it.  I  could  not, 
of  course,  and  wished  him  to  subscribe  by  himself.  That 
he  would  not  do  ;  he  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  our 
appearing  to  the  world  in  separate  positions,  in  a  matter 
of  importance.  And,  as  time  went  on,  he  would  not  take 
any  hints,  which  I  gave  him,  on  the  subject  of  my  growing 
inclination  to  Rome.  When  I  found  him  so  determined, 
I  often  had  not  the  heart  to  go  on.  And  then  I  knew,  that, 
from  affection  to  me,  he  so  often  took  up  and  threw  him- 

19  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]  24  state]  describe, 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  315 

self  into  what  I  said,  that  I  felt  the  great  responsibility 
I  should  incur,  if  I  put  things  before  him  just  as  I  might 
view  them  (myself).  And,  not  knowing  him  so  well  as  I  did 
afterwards,  I  feared  lest  I  should  unsettle  him.  And  more 
over,  I  recollected  well,  how  prostrated  he  had  been  with 
illness  in  1832,  and  I  used  always  to  think  that  the  start 
of  the  Movement  had  given  him  a  fresh  life.  I  fancied 
that  his  physical  energies  even  depended  on  the  presence 
of  a  vigorous  hope  and  bright  prospects  for  his  imagination 

10  to  feed  upon  ;  so  much  so,  that  when  he  was  so  unworthily 
treated  by  the  authorities  of  the  place  in  1843,  I  recollect 
writing  to  the  late  Mr.  Dodsworth  to  state  my  anxiety, 
lest,  if  his  mind  became  dejected  in  consequence,  his  health 
would  suffer  seriously  also.  These  were  difficulties  in  my 
way  ;  and  then  again,  another  difficulty  was,  that,  as  we 
were  not  together  under  the  same  roof,  we  only  saw  each 
other  at  set  times  ;  others  indeed,  who  were  coming  in  or 
out  of  my  rooms  freely,  and  as  there  might  be  need  at  the 
moment,  knew  all  my  thoughts  easily  ;  but  for  him  to 

20  know  them  well,  formal  efforts  were  necessary.  A  common 
friend  of  ours  broke  it  all  to  him  in  1841,  as  far  as  matters 
had  gone  at  that  time,  and  showed  him  clearly  the  logical 
conclusions  which  must  lie  in  propositions  to  which  I  had 
committed  myself  ;  but  somehow  or  other  in  a  little  while, 
his  mind  fell  back  into  its  former  happy  state,  and  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  believe  that  he  and  I  should  not  go 
on  pleasantly  together  to  the  end.  But  that  affectionate 
dream  needs  must  have  been  broken  at  last ;  and  two 
years  afterwards,  that  friend  to  whom  I  wrote  the  letters 

so  which  I  have  just  now  inserted,  set  himself,  as  I  have 
said,  to  break  it.  Upon  that,  I  too  begged  Dr.  Pusey  to 
tell  in  private  to  any  one  he  would,  that  I  thought  in  the 
event  I  should  leave  the  Church  of  England.  However,  he 
would  not  do  so  ;  and  at  the  end  of  1844  had  almost 
relapsed  into  his  former  thoughts  about  me,  if  I  may  judge 
from  a  letter  of  his  which  I  have  found.  Nay,  at  the 
Commemoration  of  1845,  a  few  months  before  I  left  the 
Anglican  Church,  I  think  he  said  about  me  to  a  friend, 
"  I  trust  after  all  we  shall  keep  him." 

14  would]  should 

18  as  there  might  be  need  at]  according  to  the  need  of 


316  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

In  that  autumn  of  1843,  at  the  time  that  I  spoke  to 
Dr.  Pusey,  I  asked  another  friend  also  to  communicate 
[to  others]  in  confidence(,  to  whom  he  would,)  the  prospect 
which  lay  before  me. 

To  another  friend(,  Mr.  James  Hope,  now  Mr.  Hope 
Scott,}  I  gave  the  opportunity  of  knowing  it,  if  he  would, 
in  the  following  Postscript  to  a  letter  : — 

"  While  I  write,  I  will  add  a  word  about  myself.  You 
may  come  near  a  person  or  two  who,  owing  to  circum 
stances,  know  more  exactly  my  state  of  feeling  than  you  10 
do,  though  they  would  not  tell  you.  Now  I  do  not  like 
that  you  should  not  be  aware  of  this,  though  I  see  no 
reason  why  you  should  know  what  they  happen  to  know. 
Your  wishing  it  [otherwise]  would  be  a  reason." 

I  had  a  dear  and  old  friend,  near  his  death  ;  I  never  told 
him  my  state  of  mind.  Why  should  I  unsettle  that  sweet 
calm  tranquillity,  when  I  had  nothing  to  offer  him  instead  ? 
I  could  not  say,  "  Go  to  Rome  ;  "  else  I  should  have  shown 
him  the  way.  Yet  I  offered  myself  for  his  examination. 
One  day  he  led  the  way  to  my  speaking  out ;  but,  rightly  20 
or  wrongly,  I  could  not  respond.  My  reason  was,  "  I  have 
no  certainty  on  the  matter  myself.  To  say  '  I  think  '  is 
to  tease  and  to  distress,  not  to  persuade." 

I  wrote  to  him  on  Michaelmas  Day,  1843  :  "As  you 
may  suppose,  I  have  nothing  to  write  to  you  about, 
pleasant.  I  coidd  tell  you  some  very  painful  things  ;  but 
it  is  best  not  to  anticipate  trouble,  which  after  all  can  but 
happen,  and,  for  what  one  knows,  may  be  averted.  You 
are  always  so  kind,  that  sometimes,  when  I  part  with  you, 
I  am  nearly  moved  to  tears,  and  it  would  be  a  relief  to  be  so 
so,  at  your  kindness  and  at  my  hardness.  I  think  no  one 
ever  had  such  kind  friends  as  I  have." 

The  next  year,  January  22, 1  wrote  to  him  :  "  Pusey  has 
quite  enough  on  him,  and  generously  takes  on  himself  more 
than  enough,  for  me  to  add  burdens  when  I  am  not  obliged  ; 
particularly  too,  when  I  am  very  conscious,  that  there  are 
burdens,  which  I  am  or  shall  be  obliged  to  lay  upon  him 
some  time  or  other,  whether  I  will  or  no." 

And  on  February  21  :    "  Half -past  ten.     I  am  just  up, 
having  a  bad  cold  ;    the  like  has  not  happened  to  me  40 
(except  twice  in  January)  in  my  memory.    You  may  think 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  317 

you  have  been  in  my  thoughts,  long  before  my  rising.  Of 
course  you  are  so  continually,  as  you  well  know.  I  could 
not  come  to  see  you  ;  I  am  not  worthy  of  friends.  With  my 
opinions,  to  the  full  of  which  I  dare  not  confess,  I  feel  like 
a  guilty  person  with  others,  though  I  trust  I  am  not  so. 
People  kindly  think  that  I  have  much  to  bear  externally, 
disappointment,  slander,  &c.  No,  I  have  nothing  to  bear, 
but  the  anxiety  which  I  feel  for  my  friends'  anxiety  for 
me,  and  their  perplexity.  This  [letter]  is  a  better  Ash- 

10  Wednesday  than  birthday  present ;  "  [his  birthday  was 
the  same  day  as  mine  ;  it  was  Ash-Wednesday  that 
year] ;  "  but  I  cannot  help  writing  about  what  is  upper 
most.  And  now(,  my  dear  A.,}  all  kindest  and  best  wishes 
to  you,  my  oldest  friend,  whom  I  must  not  speak  more 
about,  and  with  reference  to  myself,  lest  you  should  be 
angry."  It  was  not  in  his  nature  to  have  doubts  :  he  used 
to  look  at  me  with  anxiety,  and  wonder  what  had  come 
over  me. 

On  Easter  Monday  :    "  All  that  is  good  and  gracious 

20  descend  upon  you  and  yours  from  the  influences  of  this 
Blessed  Season  ;  and  it  will  be  so,  (so  be  it  !)  for  what 
is  the  life  of  you  all,  as  day  passes  after  day,  but  a  simple 
endeavour  to  serve  Him,  from  whom  all  blessing  comes  ? 
Though  we  are  separated  in  place,  yet  this  we  have  in 
common,  that  you  are  living  a  calm  and  cheerful  time, 
and  I  am  enjoying  the  thought  of  you.  It  is  your  blessing 
to  have  a  clear  heaven,  and  peace  around,  according  to  the 
blessing  pronounced  on  Benjamin(3).  So  it  is,  (my  dear  A.,) 
and  so  may  it  ever  be." 

so  He  was  in  simple  good  faith.  He  died  in  September  that 
year.  I  had  expected  that  his  last  illness  would  have 
brought  light  to  my  mind,  as  to  what  I  ought  to  do.  It 
brought  none.  I  made  a  note,  which  runs  thus  :  "I 
sobbed  bitterly  over  his  coffin,  to  think  that  he  left  me 
still  dark  as  to  what  the  way  of  truth  was,  and  what  I  ought 
to  do  in  order  to  please  God  and  fulfil  His  will."  I  think 
I  wrote  to  Charles  Marriott  to  say,  that  at  that  moment, 

9   10,  12  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 
[letter]  in  line  9  was  omitted  in  1865. 
28  Footnote  in  1865.    (3  Deut.  xxxiii.  12.) 
30  that]  of  the  same 


318  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

with  the  thought  of  my  friend  before  me,  my  strong  view 
in  favour  of  Rome  remained  just  what  it  was.  On  the 
other  hand,  my  firm  belief  that  grace  was  to  be  found 
(with)in  the  Anglican  Church  remained  too  l.  I  wrote  to 
a  friend  upon  his  death  : — 

"  Sept.  16,  1844.  I  am  full  of  wrong  and  miserable  feel 
ings,  which  it  is  useless  to  detail,  so  grudging  and  sullen, 
when  I  should  be  thankful.  Of  course,  when  one  sees  so 
blessed  an  end,  and  that,  the  termination  of  so  blameless 
a  life,  of  one  who  really  fed  on  our  ordinances  and  got  10 
strength  from  them,  and  see  the  same  continued  in  a  whole 
family,  the  little  children  finding  quite  a  solace  of  their 
pain  in  the  Daily  Prayer,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  more 
at  ease  in  our  Church,  as  at  least  a  sort  of  Zoar,  a  place  of 
refuge  and  temporary  rest,  because  of  the  steepness  of  the 
way.  Only,  may  we  be  kept  from  unlawful  security,  lest 
we  have  Moab  and  Ammon  for  our  progeny,  the  enemies 
of  Israel." 

I  could  not  continue  in  this  state,  either  in  the  light  of 
duty  or  of  reason.  My  difficulty  was  this  :  I  had  been  20 
deceived  greatly  once  ;  how  could  I  be  sure  that  I  was  not 
deceived  a  second  time  ?  I  [then]  thought  myself  right 
(then)  ;  how  was  I  to  be  certain  that  I  was  right  now  ? 
How  many  years  had  I  thought  myself  sure  of  what  I  now 
rejected  ?  how  could  I  ever  again  have  confidence  in 
myself  ?  As  in  1840  I  listened  to  the  rising  doubt  in  favour 
of  Rome,  now  I  listened  to  the  waning  doubt  in  favour  of 
the  English  Church.  To  be  certain  is  to  know  that  one 
knows  ;  what  (inward)  test  had  I,  that  I  should  not  change 
again,  after  that  I  had  become  a  Catholic  ?  I  had  still  so 
apprehension  of  this,  though  I  thought  a  time  would  come, 
when  it  would  depart.  However,  some  limit  ought  to  be 
put  to  these  vague  misgivings  ;  I  must  do  my  best  and  then 
leave  it  to  a  higher  power  to  prosper  it.  So,  (at  the  end 
of  1844,)  I  determined  to  write  an  Essay  on  Doctrinal 

(*)  On  this  subject,  vid.  my  Third  Lecture  on  "Anglican  Diffi 
culties  "(»  also  Note  E,  Anglican  Church}.  (This  footnote  did  not  appear 
in  the  original  pamphlet. ) 

5  a  friend  upon  his  death]  another  friend  thus 
28  English]  Anglican  34  power]  Power 

35  determined  to  write]  came  to  the  resolution  of  writing 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  319 

Development ;  and  then,  if,  at  the  end  of  it,  my  con 
victions  in  favour  of  the  Roman  Church  were  not  weaker, 
to  make  up  my  mind  to  seek  admission  into  her  fold. 
[I  acted  upon  this  resolution  in  the  beginning  of  1845, 
and  worked  at  my  Essay  steadily  into  the  autumn.] 

[I  told  my  resolution  to  various  friends  at  the  beginning 
of  the  year ;  indeed,  it  was  at  that  time  known  generally.] 

(By  this  time  the  state  of  my  mind  was  generally  known, 
and  I  made  no  great  secret  of  it.     I  will  illustrate  it  by 
10  letters  of  mine  which  have  been  put  into  my  hands. 

("  November  16,  1844.  I  am  going  through  what  must 
be  gone  through  ;  and  my  trust  only  is  that  every  day  of 
pain  is  so  much  taken  from  the  necessary  draught  which 
must  be  exhausted.  There  is  no  fear  (humanly  speaking) 
of  my  moving  for  a  long  time  yet.  This  has  got  out  with 
out  my  intending  it ;  but  it  is  all  well.  As  far  as  I  know 
myself,  my  one  great  distress  is  the  perplexity,  unsettle- 
ment,  alarm,  scepticism,  which  I  am  causing  to  so  many  ; 
and  the  loss  of  kind  feeling  and  good  opinion  on  the  part 
20  of  so  many,  known  and  unknown,  who  have  wished  well 
to  me.  And  of  these  two  sources  of  pain  it  is  the  former 
that  is  the  constant,  urgent,  unmitigated  one.  I  had  for 
days  a  literal  ache  all  about  my  heart ;  and  from  time  to 
time  all  the  complaints  of  the  Psalmist  seemed  to  belong 
to  me. 

("  And  as  far  as  I  know  myself,  my  one  paramount 
reason  for  contemplating  a  change  is  my  deep,  unvarying 
conviction  that  our  Church  is  in  schism,  and  that  my 
salvation  depends  on  my  joining  the  Church  of  Rome, 
so  I  may  use  argumenta  ad  hominem  to  this  person  or  that  6  ; 
but  I  am  not  conscious  of  resentment,  or  disgust,  at  any 
thing  that  has  happened  to  me.  I  have  no  visions  whatever 
of  hope,  no  schemes  of  action,  in  any  other  sphere  more 
suited  to  me.  I  have  no  existing  sympathies  with  Roman 
Catholics  ;  I  hardly  ever,  even  abroad,  was  at  one  of  their 
services  ;  I  know  none  of  them,  I  do  not  like  what  I  hear 
of  them. 

("  And  then,  how  much  I  am  giving  up  in  so  many  ways  ! 

3  to  make  up  my  mind  to  seek]  of  taking  the  necessary  steps  for 
30  Footnote  in  1865.    <5  Vide  supr.  p.  311,  &c.    Letter  of  Oct.  14, 1843, 
compared  with  that  of  Oct.  25.) 


320  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

and  to  me  sacrifices  irreparable,  not  only  from  my  age, 
when  people  hate  changing,  but  from  my  especial  love  of 
old  associations  and  the  pleasures  of  memory.  Nor  am 
I  conscious  of  any  feeling,  enthusiastic  or  heroic,  of  pleasure 
in  the  sacrifice  ;  I  have  nothing  to  support  me  here. 

("  What  keeps  me  yet  is  what  has  kept  me  long  ;  a  fear 
that  I  am  under  a  delusion  ;  but  the  conviction  remains 
firm  under  all  circumstances,  in  all  frames  of  mind.  And 
this  most  serious  feeling  is  growing  on  me  ;  viz.  that  the 
reasons  for  which  I  believe  as  much  as  our  system  teaches,  10 
must  lead  me  to  believe  more,  and  that  not  to  believe  more 
is  to  fall  back  into  scepticism. 

("  A  thousand  thanks  for  your  most  kind  and  consoling 
letter  ;  though  I  have  not  yet  spoken  of  it,  it  was  a  great 
gift." 

(Shortly  after)  I  wrote  to  a  friend  thus  : — 

"  My  intention  is,  if  nothing  comes  upon  me,  which 
I  cannot  foresee,  to  remain  quietly  in  statu  quo  for  a  con 
siderable  time,  trusting  that  my  friends  will  kindly  re 
member  me  and  my  trial  in  their  prayers.  And  I  should  20 
give  up  my  fellowship  some  time  before  any  thing  further 
took  place." 

[One  very  dear  friend,  now  no  more,  Charles  Marriott, 
sent  me  a  letter  at  the  beginning  of  the  next  year,  from 
which,  from  love  of  him,  I  quote  some  sentences  : — 

["  January  15,  1845.  You  know  me  well  enough  to  be 
aware,  that  I  never  see  through  any  thing  at  first.  Your 
letter  to  B.  casts  a  gloom  over  the  future,  which  you  can 
understand,  if  you  have  understood  me,  as  I  believe  you 
have.  But  I  may  speak  out  at  once,  of  what  I  see  and  feel  30 
at  once,  and  doubt  not  that  I  shall  ever  feel  :  that  your 
whole  conduct  towards  the  Church  of  England  and  towards 
us,  who  have  striven  and  are  still  striving  to  seek  after 
God  for  ourselve3,  and  to  revive  true  religion  among  others, 
under  her  authority  and  guidance,  has  been  generous  and 
considerate,  and,  were  that  word  appropriate,  dutiful,  to 
a  degree  that  I  could  scarcely  have  conceived  possible, 
more  unsparing  of  self  than  I  should  have  thought  nature 

16  a  friend]  the  same  friend 

17  "  My  intention  These  words  did  not  commence  a  new  paragraph  in 

1805. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  321 

could  sustain.  I  have  felt  with  pain  every  link  that  you 
have  severed,  and  I  have  asked  no  questions,  because  I  felt 
that  you  ought  to  measure  the  disclosure  of  your  thoughts 
according  to  the  occasion,  and  the  capacity  of  those  to 
whom  you  spoke.  I  write  in  haste,  in  the  midst  of  engage 
ments  engrossing  in  themselves,  but  partly  made  tasteless, 
partly  embittered  by  what  I  have  heard  ;  but  I  am  willing 
to  trust  even  you,  whom  I  love  best  on  earth,  in  God's 
Hand,  in  the  earnest  prayer  that  you  may  be  so  employed 
10  as  is  best  for  the  Holy  Catholic  Church."] 

There  was  a  lady,  who  was  very  anxious  on  the  subject, 
and  I  wrote  to  her  the  following  letters  : — 

[1.  "  October,  1844.  What  can  I  say  more  to  your 
purpose  ?  If  you  will  ask  me  any  specific  questions,  I  will 
answer  them,  as  far  as  I  am  able."] 

2.  "  November  7,  1844.    I  am  still  where  I  was  ;   I  am 
not  moving.    Two  things,  however,  seem  plain,  that  every 
one  is  prepared  for  such  an  event,  next,  that  every  one 
expects  it  of  me.    Few  indeed,  who  do  not  think  it  suit- 

20  able,  fewer  still,  who  do  not  think  it  likely.  However,  I  do 
not  think  it  either  suitable  or  likely.  I  have  very  little 
reason  to  doubt  about  the  issue  of  things,  but  the  when 
and  the  how  are  known  to  Him,  from  whom,  I  trust,  both 
the  course  of  things  and  the  issue  come.  The  expression 
of  opinion,  and  the  latent  and  habitual  feeling  about  me, 
which  is  on  every  side  and  among  all  parties,  has  great 
force.  I  insist  upon  it,  because  I  have  a  great  dread  of 
going  by  my  own  feelings,  lest  they  should  mislead  me. 
By  one's  sense  of  duty  one  must  go  ;  but  external  facts 

so  support  one  in  doing  so." 

3.  "  January  8,  1845.    (What  am  I  to  say  in  answer  to 
your  letter  ?     I  know  perfectly  well,  I  ought  to  let  you 
know  more  of  my  feelings  and  state  of  mind  than  you  do 
know.     But  how  is  that  possible  in  a  few  words  ?     Any 
thing  I  say  must  be  abrupt ;  nothing  can  I  say  which  will 
not  leave  "a  bewildering  feeling,  as  needing  so  much  to 
explain  it,  and  being  isolated,  and  (as  it  were)  unlocated, 
and  not  having  any  thing  with  it  to  show  its  bearings  upon 
other  parts  of  the  subject.) 

16  2.]  1.  31  3.]  2. 

APOLOGIA  jyj 


322  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

("  At  present,)  My  full  belief  is,  in  accordance  with  your 
letter,  that,  if  there  is  a  move  in  our  Church,  very  few 
persons  indeed  will  be  partners  to  it.  I  doubt  whether 
one  or  two  at  the  most  among  residents  at  Oxford.  And 
I  don't  know  whether  I  can  wish  it.  The  state  of  the 
Roman  Catholics  is  at  present  so  unsatisfactory.  This 
I  am  sure  of,  that  nothing  but  a  simple,  direct  call  of  duty 
is  a  warrant  for  any  one  leaving  our  Church  ;  no  preference 
of  another  Church,  no  delight  in  its  services,  no  hope  of 
greater  religious  advancement  in  it,  no  indignation,  no  10 
disgust,  at  the  persons  and  things,  among  which  we  may 
find  ourselves  in  the  Church  of  England.  The  simple  ques 
tion  is,  Can  /  (it  is  personal,  not  whether  another,  but 
can  /)  be  saved  in  the  English  Church  ?  am  /  in  safety, 
were  I  to  die  to-night  ?  Is  it  a  mortal  sin  in  me,  not  joining 
another  communion  ?  P.S.  I  hardly  see  my  way  to  concur 
in  attendance,  though  occasional,  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
chapel,  unless  a  man  has  made  up  his  mind  pretty  well  to 
join  it  eventually.  Invocations  are  not  required  in  the 
Church  of  Rome  ;  somehow,  I  do  not  like  using  them  20 
except  under  the  sanction  of  the  Church,  and  this  makes 
me  unwilling  to  admit  them  in  members  of  our  Church." 

4.  "  March  30.  Now  I  will  tell  you  more  than  any  one 
knows  except  two  friends.  My  own  convictions  are  as 
strong,  as  I  suppose  they  can  become  :  only  it  is  so  difficult 
to  know  whether  it  is  a  call  of  reason  or  of  conscience. 
I  cannot  make  out,  if  I  am  impelled  by  what  seems  clear, 
or  by  a  sense  of  duty.  You  can  understand  how  painful 
this  doubt  is  ;  so  I  have  waited,  hoping  for  light,  and 
using  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  '  Show  some  token  upon  so 
me.'  But  I  suppose  I  have  no  right  to  wait  for  ever  for 
this.  Then  I  am  waiting,  because  friends  are  most  con 
siderately  bearing  me  in  mind,  and  asking  guidance  for 
me  ;  and,  I  trust,  I  should  attend  to  any  new  feelings 
which  came  upon  me,  should  that  be  the  effect  of  their 
kindness.  And  then  this  waiting  subserves  the  purpose  of 
preparing  men's  minds.  I  dread  shocking,  unsettling 
people.  Any  how,  I  can't  avoid  giving  incalculable  pain. 
So,  if  I  had  my  will,  I  should  like  to  wait  till  the  summer 

16  P.S.     This  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1865.  23  4.]  3. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  323 

of  1846,  which  would  be  a  full  seven  years  from  the  time 
that  my  convictions  first  began  to  fall  on  me.  But  I  don't 
think  I  shall  last  so  long. 

"  My  present  intention  is  to  give  up  my  Fellowship  in 
October,  and  to  publish  some  work  or  treatise  between 
that  and  Christmas.  I  wish  people  to  know  why  I  am 
acting,  as  well  as  what  I  am  doing  ;  it  takes  off  that  vague 
and  distressing  surprise,  '  What  can  have  made  him  ?  '  " 
5.  "June  1.  What  you  tell  me  of  yourself  makes  it 

10  plain  that  it  is  your  duty  to  remain  quietly  and  patiently, 
till  you  see  more  clearly  where  you  are  ;  else  you  are 
leaping  in  the  dark." 

In  the  early  part  of  this  year,  if  not  before,  there  was  an 
idea  afloat  that  my  retirement  from  the  Anglican  Church 
was  owing  to  the  feeling  that  I  had  so  been  thrust  aside, 
without  any  one's  taking  my  part.  Various  measures  were, 
I  believe,  talked  of  in  consequence  of  this  surmise.  Coin- 
cidently  with  it  was  an  exceedingly  kind  article  about  me 
in  a  Quarterly,  in  its  April  number.  The  writer  praised 

20  me  in  feeling  and  beautiful  language  far  above  my  deserts. 
In  the  course  of  his  remarks,  he  said,  speaking  of  me  as 
Vicar  of  St.  Mary's  :  "He  had  the  future  race  of  clergy 
hearing  him.  Did  he  value  and  feel  tender  about,  and 
cling  to  his  position  ?  .  .  .  Not  at  all.  .  .  .  No  sacrifice  to 
him  perhaps,  he  did  not  care  about  such  things." 

(There  was  a  censure  implied,  however  covertly,  in  these 
words  ;  and)  This  was  the  occasion  of  my  writing  [to 
a  very  intimate  friend]  the  following  letter(,  addressed 
to  a  very  intimate  friend)  : — 

30  "  April  3, 1845. . . .  Accept  this  apology,  my  dear  C(hurch), 
and  forgive  me.  As  I  say  so,  tears  come  into  my  eyes,— 
that  arises  from  the  accident  of  this  time,  when  I  am  giving 
up  so  much  I  love.  Just  now  I  have  been  overset  by 
A.  B.'s  article  in  the  C.  D.  ;  yet  really,  my  dear  C(hurch), 
I  have  never  for  an  instant  had  even  the  temptation  of 
repenting  my  leaving  Oxford.  The  feeling  of  repentance 
has  not  even  come  into  my  mind.  How  could  it  ?  How 
could  I  remain  at  St.  Mary's  a  hypocrite  ?  how  could  I  be 

9  5.]  4.  18  was]  appeared  27  This  was  the  occasion  of 

my  writing]  it  is  alluded  to  in  34  A.  B.  18641  A.  1865,  James  Mozley 

Edition  subsequent  to  1875.  34  C.  D.]  Christian  Remembrancer 


324  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

answerable  for  souls,  (and  life  so  uncertain,)  with  the  con 
victions,  or  at  least  persuasions,  which  I  had  upon  me  ? 
It  is  indeed  a  responsibility  to  act  as  I  am  doing  ;  and 
I  feel  His  hand  heavy  on  me  without  intermission,  who  is 
all  Wisdom  and  Love,  so  that  my  heart  and  mind  are 
tired  out,  just  as  the  limbs  might  be  from  a  load  on  one's 
back.  That  sort  of  dull  aching  pain  is  mine  ;  but  my 
responsibility  really  is  nothing  to  what  it  would  be,  to  be 
answerable  for  souls,  for  confiding  loving  souls,  in  the 
English  Church,  with  my  convictions.  My  love  to  Marriott,  10 
and  save  me  the  pain  of  sending  him  a  line." 

In  July  a  Bishop  thought  it  worth  while  to  give  out  to 
the  world  that  "  the  adherents  of  Mr.  Newman  are  few  in 
number.  A  short  time  will  now  probably  suffice  to  prove 
this  fact.  It  is  well  known  that  he  is  preparing  for  seces 
sion  ;  and,  when  that  event  takes  place,  it  will  be  seen 
how  few  will  go  with  him." 

(I  am  now  close  upon  the  date  of  my  reception  into  the 
Catholic  Church  ;  and  have  reserved  for  this  place  some 
sentences  from  a  letter  addressed  to  me  at  the  beginning  20 
of  the  year  by  a  very  dear  friend,  now  no  more,  Charles 
Marriott.  I  quote  them  for  the  love  which  I  bear  him, 
and  the  value  that  I  set  on  his  good  word. 

("  January  15,  1845.  You  know  me  well  enough  to  be 
aware,  that  I  never  see  through  any  thing  at  first.  Your 
letter  to  Badeley  casts  a  gloom  over  the  future,  which  you 
can  understand,  if  you  have  understood  me,  as  I  believe 
you  have.  But  I  may  speak  out  at  once,  of  what  I  see 
and  feel  at  once,  and  doubt  not  that  I  shall  ever  feel  :  that 
your  whole  conduct  towards  the  Church  of  England  and  so 
towards  us,  who  have  striven  and  are  still  striving  to  seek 
after  God  for  ourselves,  and  to  revive  true  religion  among 
others ,  under  her  authority  and  guidance ,  has  been  generous 
and  considerate,  and,  were  that  word  appropriate,  dutiful, 
to  a  degree  that  I  could  scarcely  have  conceived  possible, 
more  unsparing  of  self  than  I  should  have  thought  nature 
could  sustain.  I  have  felt  with  pain  every  link  that  you 
have  severed,  and  I  have  asked  no  questions,  because 
I  felt  that  you  ought  to  measure  the  disclosure  of  your 
thoughts  according  to  the  occasion,  and  the  capacity  of  40 
those  to  whom  you  spoke.  I  write  in  haste,  in  the  midst 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  325 

of  engagements  engrossing  in  themselves,  but  partly  made 
tasteless,  partly  embittered  by  what  I  have  heard  ;  but 
I  am  willing  to  trust  even  you,  whom  I  love  best  on  earth, 
in  God's  Hand,  in  the  earnest  prayer  that  you  may  be  so 
employed  as  is  best  for  the  Holy  Catholic  Church.") 

All  this  time  I  was  hard  at  my  Essay  on  Doctrinal 
Development  (in  the  first  months  of  1845,  and  I  was  hard 
at  it  all  through  the  year  till  October).  As  I  advanced, 
my  view  so  cleared  that  instead  of  speaking  any  more  of 
10  "  the  Roman  Catholics,"  I  boldly  called  them  Catholics. 
Before  I  got  to  the  end,  I  resolved  to  be  received, 
and  the  book  remains  in  the  state  in  which  it  was  then, 
unfinished. 

(One  of  my  friends  at  Littlemore  had  been  received  into 
the  Church  on  Michaelmas  Day,  at  the  Passionist  House 
at  Aston,  near  Stone,  by  Father  Dominic,  the  Superior. 
At  the  beginning  of  October  the  latter  was  passing  through 
London  to  Belgium  ;  and,  as  I  was  in  some  perplexitjr 
what  steps  to  take  for  being  received  myself,  I  assented  to 
20  the  proposition  made  to  me  that  the  good  priest  should 
take  Littlemore  in  his  way,  with  a  view  to  his  doing  for 
me  the  same  charitable  service  as  he  had  done  to  my 
friend.) 

On  October  (the)  8th  I  wrote  to  a  number  of  friends  the 
following  letter  : — 

"  Littlemore,  October  8(th),  1845.  I  am  this  night  expect 
ing  Father  Dominic,  the  Passionist,  who,  from  his  youth, 
has  been  led  to  have  distinct  and  direct  thoughts,  first  of 
the  countries  of  the  North,  then  of  England.  After  thirty 
so  years'  (almost)  waiting,  he  was  without  his  own  act  sent 
here.  But  he  has  had  little  to  do  with  conversions.  I  saw 
him  here  for  a  few  minutes  on  St.  John  Baptist's  day  last 
year.  (He  is  a  simple,  holy  man  ;  and  withal  gifted  with 
remarkable  powers.)  He  does  not  know  of  my  intention  ; 
but  I  mean  to  ask  of  him  admission  into  the  one  Fold  of 
Christ.  .  .  . 

"  1  have  so  many  letters  to  write,  that  this  must  do  for 

6  All  this  time  I  was  hard  at]  I  had  begun 
6-7  Doctrinal  Development]  the  Development  of  Doctrine 
33  He  is  a  These  words  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1SG5. 
35  one]  One 


,326  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS 

all  who  choose  to  ask  about  me.    With  my  best  love  to 
dear  Charles  Marriott,  who  is  over  your  head,  &c.,  &c. 

"  P.S.    This  will  not  go  till  all  is  over.     Of  course  it 
requires  no  answer." 


For  a  while  after  my  reception,  I  proposed  to  betake 
myself  to  some  secular  calling.  I  wrote  thus  in  answer  to 
a  very  gracious  letter  of  congratulation  (sent  me  by  Cardinal 
Acton)  : — 

"  Nov.  25,  1845.  I  hope  you  will  have  anticipated, 
before  I  express  it,  the  great  gratification  which  I  received  10 
from  your  Eminence's  letter.  That  gratification,  however, 
was  tempered  by  the  apprehension,  that  kind  and  anxious 
well-wishers  at  a  distance  attach  more  importance  to  my 
step  than  really  belongs  to  it.  To  me  indeed  personally  it 
is  of  course  an  inestimable  gain  ;  but  persons  and  things 
look  great  at  a  distance,  which  are  not  so  when  seen  close  ; 
and,  did  your  Eminence  know  me,  you  would  see  that 
I  was  one,  about  whom  there  has  been  far  more  talk  for 
good  and  bad  than  he  deserves,  and  about  whose  move 
ments  far  more  expectation  has  been  raised  than  the  event  2o 
will  justify. 

"  As  I  never,  I  do  trust,  aimed  at  any  thing  else  than 
obedience  to  my  own  sense  of  right,  and  have  been  magnified 
into  the  leader  of  a  party  without  my  wishing  it  or  acting 
as  such,  so  now,  much  as  I  may  wish  to  the  contrary,  and 
earnestly  as  I  may  labour  (as  is  my  duty)  to  minister  in 
a  humble  way  to  the  Catholic  Church,  yet  my  powers  will, 
I  fear,  disappoint  the  expectations  of  both  my  own  friends, 
and  of  those  who  pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem. 

"  If  I  might  ask  of  your  Eminence  a  favour,  it  is  that  30 
you  would  kindly  moderate  those  anticipations.  Would  it 
were  in  my  power  to  do,  what  I  do  not  aspire  to  do  !  At 
present  certainly  I  cannot  look  forward  to  the  future,  and, 
though  it  would  be  a  good  work  if  I  could  persuade  others 
to  do  as  I  have  done,  yet  it  seems  as  if  I  had  quite  enough 
to  do  in  thinking  of  myself." 

Soon,  Dr.  Wiseman,  in  whose  Vicariate  Oxford  lay,  called 
me  to  Oscott ;  and  I  went  there  with  others  ;  afterwards 
he  sent  me  to  Rome,  and  finally  placed  me  in  Birmingham. 


(FROM  1841  TO  1845.)  327 

I  wrote  to  a  friend  : — 

"  January  20,  1846.  You  may  think  how  lonely  I  am. 
'  Obliviscere  populum  tuum  et  domum  patris  tui,'  has  been 
in  my  ears  for  the  last  twelve  hours.  I  realize  more  that 
we  are  leaving  Littlemore,  and  it  is  like  going  on  the 
open  sea." 

I  left  Oxford  for  good  on  Monday,  February  23,  1846. 
On  the  Saturday  and  Sunday  before,  I  was  in  my  House 
at  Littlemore  simply  by  myself,  as  I  had  been  for  the  first 
10  day  or  two  when  I  had  originally  taken  possession  of  it. 
I  slept  on  Sunday  night  at  my  dear  friend's,  Mr.  Johnson's, 
at  the  Observatory.  Various  friends  came  to  see  the  last 
of  me  ;  Mr.  Copeland,  Mr.  Church,  Mr.  Buckle,  Mr.  Pattison, 
and  Mr.  Lewis.  Dr.  Pusey  too  came  up  to  take  leave  of 
me  ;  and  I  called  on  Dr.  Ogle,  one  of  my  very  oldest 
friends,  for  he  was  my  private  Tutor,  when  I  was  an 
Undergraduate.  In  him  I  took  leave  of  my  first  College, 
Trinity,  which  was  so  dear  to  me,  and  which  held  on  its 
foundation  so  many  who  have  been  kind  to  me  both  when 
20  I  was  a  boy,  and  all  through  my  Oxford  life.  Trinity  had 
never  been  unkind  to  me.  There  used  to  be  much  snap 
dragon  growing  on  the  walls  opposite  my  freshman's 
rooms  there,  and  I  had  for  years  taken  it  as  the  emblem 
of  my  own  perpetual  residence  even  unto  death  in  my 
University. 

On  the  morning  of  the  23rd  I  left  the  Observatory. 
I  have  never  seen  Oxford  since,  excepting  its  spires,  as 
they  are  seen  from  the  railway.1 

19  have]  had 


I1  At  length  Dr.  Newman  visited  Oxford  on  Feb.  26,  1878,  after  he 
had  been  made  Honorary  Fellow  of  Trinity.] 


PART  VII. 

GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY, 

[Published  as  a  Pamphlet,  Thursday,  June  2,  1864] 


M3 


PART  VII. 


GENERAL   ANSWER  TO   MR.   KINGSLEY. 

FROM  the  time  that  I  became  a  Catholic,  of  course  I  have 
no  further  history  of  my  religious  opinions  to  narrate.  In 
saying  this,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  my  mind  has  been 
idle,  or  that  I  have  given  up  thinking  on  theological  sub 
jects  ;  but  that  I  have  had  no  changes  to  record,  and  have 
had  no  anxiety  of  heart  whatever.  I  have  been  in  perfect 
peace  and  contentment.  I  never  have  had  one  doubt. 
I  was  not  conscious  to  myself,  on  my  conversion,  of  any 
difference  of  thought  or  of  temper  from  what  I  had  before. 

10 1  was  not  conscious  of  firmer  faith  in  the  fundamental 
truths  of  revelation,  or  of  more  self-command  ;  I  had  not 
more  fervour  ;  but  it  was  like  coming  into  port  after 
a  rough  sea  ;  and  my  happiness  on  that  score  remains  to 
this  day  without  interruption. 

Nor  had  I  any  trouble  about  receiving  those  additional 
articles,  which  are  not  found  in  the  Anglican  Creed.  Some 
of  them  I  believed  already,  but  not  any  one  of  them  was 
a  trial  to  me.  I  made  a  profession  of  them  upon  my 
reception  with  the  greatest  ease,  and  I  have  the  same  ease 

20  in  believing  them  now.  I  am  far  of  course  from  denying 
that  every  article  of  the  Christian  Creed,  whether  as  held 
by  Catholics  or  by  Protestants,  is  beset  with  intellectual 
difficulties  ;  and  it  is  simple  fact,  that,  for  myself,  I  cannot 
answer  those  difficulties.  Many  persons  are  very  sensitive 
of  the  difficulties  of  religion  ;  I  am  as  sensitive  (of  them) 
as  any  one  ;  but  I  have  never  been  able  to  see  a  connexion 

Part  VII.  General  Answer  to  Mr.  Kingsley]  Chapter  V.    Position  of 
my  Mind  since  1845. 
5  changes]  variations 
8  to  myself  These  words  are  omitted  in  another  copy  of  1864. 

8  any  1864,  1865]  any  inward  1864  (another  copy) 

9  difference  .  .  .  before]  change,  intellectual  or  moral,  wrought  in  my 
mind 

11  revelation]  Revelation  25  religion]  Religion 


332  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

between  apprehending  those  difficulties,  however  keenly, 
and  multiplying  them  to  any  extent,  and  (on  the  other 
hand)  doubting  the  doctrines  to  which  they  are  attached. 
Ten  thousand  difficulties  do  not  make  one  doubt,  as 
I  understand  the  subject ;  difficulty  and  doubt  are  incom 
mensurate.  There  of  course  may  be  difficulties  in  the 
evidence  ;  but  I  am  speaking  of  difficulties  intrinsic  to  the 
doctrines  (themselves),  or  to  their  compatibility  with  each 
other.  A  man  may  be  annoyed  that  he  cannot  work  out 
a  mathematical  problem,  of  which  the  answer  is  or  is  not  10 
given  to  him,  without  doubting  that  it  admits  of  an  answer, 
or  that  a  (certain)  particular  answer  is  the  true  one.  Of 
all  points  of  faith,  the  being  of  a  God  is,  to  my  own  appre 
hension,  encompassed  with  most  difficulty,  and  (yet)  borne 
in  upon  our  minds  with  most  power. 

People  say  that  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation  is 
difficult  to  believe  ;  I  did  not  believe  the  doctrine  till  I  was 
a  Catholic.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  believing  it(,)  as  soon  as 
I  believed  that  the  Catholic  Roman  Church  was  the  oracle 
of  God,  and  that  she  had  declared  this  doctrine  to  be  part  20 
of  the  original  revelation.  It  is  difficult,  impossible(,)  to 
imagine,  I  grant(;) — but  how  is  it  difficult  to  believe  ? 
Yet  Macaulay  thought  it  so  difficult  to  believe,  that  he  had 
need  of  a  believer  in  it  of  talents  as  eminent  as  Sir  Thomas 
More,  before  he  could  bring  himself  to  conceive  that  the 
Catholics  of  an  enlightened  age  could  resist  "  the  over 
whelming  force  of  the  argument  against  it."  "  Sir  Thomas 
More,"  he  says,  "  is  one  of  the  choice  specimens  of  wisdom 
and  virtue  ;  and  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  is 
a  kind  of  proof  charge.  A  faith  which  stands  that  test,  30 
will  stand  any  test."  But  for  myself,  I  cannot  indeed 
prove  it,  I  cannot  tell  how  it  is  ;  but  I  say,  "  Why  should 
not  it  be  ?  What's  to  hinder  it  ?  What  do  I  know  of 
substance  or  matter  ?  just  as  much  as  the  greatest  philo 
sophers,  and  that  is  nothing  at  all ;  " — so  much  is  this  the 
case,  that  there  is  a  rising  school  of  philosophy  now,  which 
considers  phenomena  to  constitute  the  whole  of  our  know 
ledge  in  physics.  The  Catholic  doctrine  leaves  phenomena 
alone.  It  does  not  say  that  the  phenomena  go  ;  on  the 

8  compatibility]  relations  33  not  it]  it  not 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  333 

contrary,  it  says  that  they  remain  :  nor  does  it  say  that 
the  same  phenomena  are  in  several  places  at  once.  It  deals 
with  what  no  one  on  earth  knows  any  thing  about,  the 
material  substances  themselves.  And,  in  like  manner,  of 
that  majestic  Article  of  the  Anglican  as  well  as  of  the 
Catholic  Creed,— the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity. 
What  do  I  know  of  the  Essence  of  the  Divine  Being  ? 
I  know  that  my  abstract  idea  of  three  is  simply  incom 
patible  with  my  idea  of  one  ;  but  when  I  come  to  the 
10  question  of  concrete  fact,  I  have  no  means  of  proving  that 
there  is  not  a  sense  in  which  one  and  three  can  equally  be 
predicated  of  the  Incommunicable  God. 

But  I  am  going  to  take  upon  myself  the  responsibility 
of  more  than  the  mere  Creed  of  the  Church ;  as  the  parties 
accusing  me  are  determined  I  shall  do.  They  say,  that 
now,  in  that  I  am  a  Catholic,  though  I  may  not  have 
offences  of  my  own  against  honesty  to  answer  for,  yet,  at 
least,  I  am  answerable  for  the  offences  of  others,  of  my 
co-religionists,  of  my  brother  priests,  of  the  Church  herself. 
20 1  am  quite  willing  to  accept  the  responsibility  ;  and,  as 
I  have  been  able,  as  I  trust,  by  means  of  a  few  words,  to 
dissipate,  in  the  minds  of  all  those  who  do  not  begin  with 
disbelieving  me,  the  suspicion  with  which  so  many  Pro* 
testants  start,  in  forming  their  judgment  of  Catholics^  viz. 
that  our  Creed  is  actually  set  up  in  inevitable  superstition 
and  hypocrisy,  as  the  original  sin  of  Catholicism  ;  so  now 
I  will  go  on,  as  before,  identifying  myself  with  the  Church 
and  vindicating  it, — not  of  course  denying  the  enormous 
mass  of  sin  and  ignorance  which  exists  of  necessity  in  that 
so  world-wide  multiform  Communion, — but  going  to  the  proof 
of  this  one  point,  that  its  system  is  in  no  sense  dishonest, 
and  that  therefore  the  upholders  and  teachers  of  that 
system,  as  such,  have  a  claim  to  be  acquitted  in  their  own 
persons  of  that  odious  imputation. 

Starting  then  with  the  being  of  a  God,  (which,  as  I  have 
said,  is  as  certain  to  me  as  the  certainty  of  my  own  exist 
ence,  though  when  I  try  to  put  the  grounds  of  that  certainty 
into  logical  shape  I  find  a  difficulty  in  doing  so  in  mood 
and  figure  to  my  satisfaction,)  I  look  out  of  myself  into 
27  go  on]  proceed  29  ignorance]  error 


334  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

the  world  of  men,  and  there  I  see  a  sight  which  fills  me 
with  unspeakable  distress.  The  world  seems  simply  to 
give  the  lie  to  that  great  truth,  of  which  my  whole  being 
is  so  full ;  and  the  effect  upon  me  is,  in  consequence,  as 
a  matter  of  necessity,  as  confusing  as  if  it  denied  that  I  am 
in  existence  myself.  If  I  looked  into  a  mirror,  and  did  not 
see  my  face,  I  should  have  the  sort  of  feeling  which  actually 
comes  upon  me,  when  I  look  into  this  living  busy  world, 
and  see  no  reflexion  of  its  Creator.  This  is,  to  me,  one 
of  the  great  difficulties  of  this  absolute  primary  truth,  to  10 
which  I  referred  just  now.  Were  it  not  for  this  voice, 
speaking  so  clearly  in  my  conscience  and  my  heart,  I  should 
be  an  atheist,  or  a  pantheist,  or  a  polytheist  when  I  looked 
into  the  world.  I  am  speaking  for  myself  only  ;  and  I  am 
far  from  denying  the  real  force  of  the  arguments  in  proof 
of  a  God,  drawn  from  the  general  facts  of  human  society 
(and  the  course  of  history),  but  these  do  not  warm  me  or 
enlighten  me  ;  they  do  not  take  away  the  winter  of  my 
desolation,  or  make  the  buds  unfold  and  the  leaves  grow 
within  me,  and  my  moral  being  rejoice.  The  sight  of  the  20 
world  is  nothing  else  than  the  prophet's  scroll,  full  of 
"  lamentations,  and  mourning,  and  woe." 

To  consider  the  world  in  its  length  and  breadth,  its 
various  history,  the  many  races  of  man,  their  starts,  their 
fortunes,  their  mutual  alienation,  their  conflicts  ;  and  then 
their  ways,  habits,  governments,  forms  of  worship  ;  their 
enterprises,  their  aimless  courses,  their  random  achieve 
ments  and  acquirements,  the  impotent  conclusion  of  long 
standing  facts,  the  tokens  so  faint  and  broken[,]  of  a 
superintending  design,  the  blind  evolution  of  what  turn  so 
put  to  be  great  powers  or  truths,  the  progress  of  things,  as 
if  from  unreasoning  elements,  not  towards  final  causes,  the 
greatness  and  littleness  of  man,  his  far-reaching  aims,  his 
short  duration,  the  curtain  hung  over  his  futurity,  the 
disappointments  of  life,  the  defeat  of  good,  the  success  of 
evil,  physical  pain,  mental  anguish,  the  prevalence  and 
intensity  of  sin,  the  pervading  idolatries,  the  corruptions, 
the  dreary  hopeless  irreligion,  that  condition  of  the  whole 
race,  so  fearfully  yet  exactly  described  in  the  Apostle's 
words,  "  having  no  hope  and  without  God  in  the  world,"  40 
10  the]  those 


,      (POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  335 

— all  this  is  a  vision  to  dizzy  and  appal ;  and  inflicts  upon 
the  mind  the  sense  of  a  profound  mystery,  which  is  abso 
lutely  beyond  human  solution. 

What  shall  be  said  to  this  heart-piercing,  reason-bewilder 
ing  fact  ?  I  can  only  answer,  that  either  there  is  no  Creator, 
or  this  living  society  of  men  is  in  a  true  sense  discarded 
from  His  presence.  Did  I  see  a  boy  of  good  make  and 
mind,  with  the  tokens  on  him  of  a  refined  nature,  cast  upon 
the  world  without  provision,  unable  to  say  whence  he 

10  came,  his  birth-place  or  his  family  connexions,  I  should 
conclude  that  there  was  some  mystery  connected  with  his 
history,  and  that  he  was  one,  of  whom,  from  one  cause  or 
other,  his  parents  were  ashamed.  Thus  only  should  I  be 
able  to  account  for  the  contrast  between  the  promise  and 
(the)  condition  of  his  being.  And  so  I  argue  about  the 
world  ; — if  there  be  a  God,  since  there  is  a  God,  the  human 
race  is  implicated  in  some  terrible  aboriginal  calamity.  It 
is  out  of  joint  with  the  purposes  of  its  Creator.  This  is 
a  fact,  a  fact  as  true  as  the  fact  of  its  existence  ;  and  thus 

20  the  doctrine  of  wha^  is  theologically  called  original  sin 
becomes  to  me  almost  as  certain  as  that  the  world  exists, 
and  as  the  existence  of  God. 

And  now,  supposing  it  were  the  blessed  and  loving  will 
of  the  Creator  to  interfere  in  this  anarchical  condition  of 
things,  what  are  we  to  suppose  would  be  the  methods  which 
might  be  necessarily  or  naturally  involved  in  His  object  of 
mercy  ?  Since  the  world  is  in  so  abnormal  a  state,  surely 
it  would  be  no  surprise  to  me,  if  the  interposition  were  of 
necessity  equally  extraordinary — or  what  is  called  miracu- 

aolous.  But  that  subject  does  not  directly  come  into  the 
scope  of  my  present  remarks.  Miracles  as  evidence,  involve 
(a  process  of  reason,  or)  an  argument  ;  and  of  course  I  am 
thinking  of  some  means  which  does  not  immediately  run 
into  argument.  I  am  rather  asking  what  must  be  the 
face-to-face  antagonist,  by  which  to  withstand  and  baffle 
the  fierce  energy  of  passion  and  the  all-corroding,  all- 
dissolving  scepticism  of  the  intellect  in  religious  inquiries  ? 
I  have  no  intention  at  all  to  deny,  that  truth  is  the  real 

26  object]  purpose  33  means]  mode  of  interference 

38  to  deny]  of  denying 


336  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

object  of  our  reason,  and  that,  if  it  does  not  attain  to 
truth,  either  the  premiss  or  the  process  is  in  fault;  but 
I  am  not  speaking  (here)  of  right  reason,  but  of  reason  as 
it  acts  in  fact  and  concretely  in  fallen  man.  I  know  that 
even  the  unaided  reason,  when  correctly  exercised,  leads 
to  a  belief  in  God,  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  in 
a  future  retribution  ;  but  I  am  considering  it  actually  and 
historically  ;  and  in  this  point  of  view,  I  do  not  think 
I  am  wrong  in  saying  that  its  tendency  is  towards  a  simple 
unbelief  in  matters  of  religion.  No  truth,  however  sacred,  10 
can  stand  against  it,  in  the  long  run  ;  and  hence  it  is  that 
in  the  pagan  world,  when  our  Lord  came,  the  last  traces 
of  the  religious  knowledge  of  former  times  were  all  but 
disappearing  from  those  portions  of  the  world  in  which  the 
intellect  had  been  active  and  had  had  a  career. 

And  in  these  latter  days,  in  like  manner,  outside  the 
Catholic  Church  things  are  tending,  ( — )with  far  greater 
rapidity  than  in  that  old  time  from  the  circumstance  of 
the  age,( — }to  atheism  in  one  shape  or  other.  What  a  scene, 
what  a  prospect,  does  the  whole  of  Europe  present  at  this  20 
day  !  and  not  only  Europe,  but  every  government  and 
every  civilization  through  the  world,  which  is  under  the 
influence  of  the  European  mind  !  Especially,  for  it  most 
concerns  us,  how  sorrowful,  in  the  view  of  religion,  even 
taken  in  its  most  elementary,  most  attenuated  form,  is 
the  spectacle  presented  to  us  by  the  educated  intellect  of 
England,  France,  and  Germany  !  Lovers  of  their  country 
and  of  their  race,  religious  men,  external  to  the  Catholic 
Church,  have  attempted  various  expedients  to  arrest  fierce 
wilful  human  nature  in  its  onward  course,  and  to  bring  it  so 
into  subjection.  The  necessity  of  some  form  of  religion 
for  the  interests  of  humanity,  has  been  generally  acknow 
ledged  :  but  where  was  the  concrete  representative  of 
things  invisible,  which  would  have  the  force  and  the 
toughness  necessary  to  be  a  breakwater  against  the  deluge  ? 
Three  centuries  ago  the  establishment  of  religion,  material, 
legal,  and  social,  was  generally  adopted  as  the  best  ex 
pedient  for  the  purpose,  in  those  countries  which  separated 
from  the  Catholic  Church  ;  and  for  a  long  time  it  was 

7  it]  the  faculty  of  reason 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  337 

successful ;  but  now  the  crevices  of  those  establishments 
are  admitting  the  enemy.  Thirty  years  ago,  education  was 
relied  upon  :  ten  years  ago  there  was  a  hope  that  wars 
would  cease  for  ever,  under  the  influence  of  commercial 
enterprise  and  the  reign  of  the  useful  and  fine  arts  ;  but 
will  any  one  venture  to  say  that  there  is  any  thing  any 
where  on  this  earth,  which  will  afford  a  fulcrum  for  us, 
whereby  to  keep  the  earth  from  moving  onwards  ? 

The  judgment,   which  experience  passes  (whether)  on 

10  establishments  or  (on)  education,  as  a  means  of  maintain 
ing  religious  truth  in  this  anarchical  world,  must  be 
extended  even  to  Scripture,  though  Scripture  be  divine. 
Experience  proves  surely  that  the  Bible  does  not  answer 
a  purposef,]  for  which  it  was  never  intended.  It  may  be 
accidentally  the  means  of  the  conversion  of  individuals  ; 
but  a  book,  after  all,  cannot  make  a  stand  against  the  wild 
living  intellect  of  man,  and  in  this  day  it  begins  to  testify, 
as  regards  its  own  structure  and  contents,  to  the  power  of 
that  universal  solvent,  which  is  so  successfully  acting  upon 

20  religious  establishments. 

Supposing  then  it  to  be  the  Will  of  the  Creator  to  inter 
fere  in  human  affairs,  and  to  make  provisions  for  retaining 
in  the  world  a  knowledge  of  Himself,  so  definite  and  dis 
tinct  as  to  be  proof  against  the  energy  of  human  scepticism, 
in  such  a  case, — I  am  far  from  saying  that  there  was  no 
other  way, — but  there  is  nothing  to  surprise  the  mind,  if 
He  should  think  fit  to  introduce  a  power  into  the  world, 
invested  with  the  prerogative  of  infallibility  in  religious 
matters.  Such  a  provision  would  be  a  direct,  immediate, 

so  active,  and  prompt  means  of  withstanding  the  difficulty ; 
it  would  be  an  instrument  suited  to  the  need  ;  and,  when 
I  find  that  this  is  the  very  claim  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
not  only  do  I  feel  no  difficulty  in  admitting  the  idea,  but 
there  is  a  fitness  in  it,  which  recommends  it  to  my  mind. 
And  thus  I  am  brought  to  speak  of  the  Church's  infalli 
bility,  as  a  provision,  adapted  by  the  mercy  of  the  Creator, 
to  preserve  religion  in  the  world,  and  to  restrain  that 
freedom  of  thought,  which  of  course  in  itself  is  one  of  the 
greatest  of  our  natural  gifts,  and  to  rescue  it  from  its  own 

40  suicidal  excesses.  And  let  it  be  observed  that,  neither  here 
nor  in  what  follows,  shall  I  have  occasion  to  speak  directly 


338  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

of  the  revealed  body  of  truths,  but  (in  reference  to  the 
sanction  which  it  gives  to  truths  which  may  be  known 
independently  of  it, — )  only  as  they  bear  upon  the  defence 
of  natural  religion.  I  say,  that  a  power,  possessed  of 
infallibility  in  religious  teaching,  is  happily  adapted  to 
be  a  working  instrument,  in  the  course  of  human  affairs, 
for  smiting  hard  and  throwing  back  the  immense  energy 
of  the  aggressive(,  capricious,  untrustworthy)  intellect : — 
and  in  saying  this,  as  in  the  other  things  that  I  have  to 
say,  it  must  still  be  recollected  that  I  am  all  along  bearing  10 
in  mind  my  main  purpose,  which  is  a  defence  of  myself. 

I  am  defending  myself  here  from  a  plausible  charge 
brought  against  Catholics,  as  will  be  seen  better  as  I  pro 
ceed.  The  charge  is  this  : — that  I,  as  a  Catholic,  not  only 
make  profession  to  hold  doctrines  which  I  cannot  possibly 
believe  in  my  heart,  but  that  I  also  believe  in  the  existence 
of  a  power  on  earth,  which  at  its  own  will  imposes  upon 
men  any  new  set  of  credenda,  when  it  pleases,  by  a  claim 
to  infallibility  ;  in  consequence,  that  my  own  thoughts  are 
not  my  own  property  ;  that  I  cannot  tell  that  to-morrow  20 
I  may  not  have  to  give  up  what  I  hold  to-day,  and  that 
the  necessary  effect  of  such  a  condition  of  mind  must  be 
a  degrading  bondage,  or  a  bitter  inward  rebellion  relieving 
itself  in  secret  infidelity,  or  the  necessity  of  ignoring  the 
whole  subject  of  religion  in  a  sort  of  disgust,  and  of  mechani 
cally  saying  every  thing  that  the  Church  says,  and  leaving 
to  others  the  defence  of  it.  As  then  I  have  above  spoken  of 
the  relation  of  my  mind  towards  the  Catholic  Creed,  so  now 
I  shall  speak  of  the  attitude  which  it  takes  up  in  the  view 
of  the  Church's  infallibility.  so 

And  first,  the  initial  doctrine  of  the  infallible  teacher 
must  be  an  emphatic  protest  against  the  existing  state  of 
mankind.  Man  had  rebelled  against  his  Maker.  It  was 
this  that  caused  the  divine  interposition  :  and  (to  proclaim 
it  must  be)  the  first  act  of  the  divinely  accredited  messenger 
[must  be  to  proclaim  it].  The  Church  must  denounce 
rebellion  as  of  all  possible  evils  the  greatest.  She  must 
have  no  terms  with  it ;  if  she  would  be  true  to  her  Master, 

1  the  revealed  body  of  truths]  Revelation  in  its  subject-matter 

3  only  as  they  bear]  as  it  bears 

35  divinely  accredited]  divinely-accredited 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  339 

she  must  ban  and  anathematize  it.  This  is  the  meaning 
of  a  statement  (of  mine),  which  has  furnished  matter  for 
one  of  those  special  accusations  to  which  I  am  at  present 
replying  :  I  have,  however,  no  fault  at  all  to  confess  in 
regard  to  it ;  I  have  nothing  to  withdraw,  and  in  con 
sequence  I  here  deliberately  repeat  it.  I  said,  "  The 
Catholic  Church  holds  it  better  for  the  sun  and  moon  to 
drop  from  heaven,  for  the  earth  to  fail,  and  for  all  the 
many  millions  on  it  to  die  of  starvation  in  extremest  agony, 
10  as  far  as  temporal  affliction  goes,  than  that  one  soul,  I  will 
not  say,  should  be  lost,  but  should  commit  one 'single 
venial  sin,  should  tell  one  wilful  untruth,  or  should  steal 
one  poor  farthing  without  excuse."  I  think  the  principle 
here  enunciated  to  be  the  mere  preamble  in  the  formal 
credentials  of  the  Catholic  Church,  as  an  Act  of  Parlia 
ment  might  begin  with  a  "  W hereas."  It  is  because  of  the 
intensity  of  the  evil  which  has  possession  of  mankind,  that 
a  suitable  antagonist  has  been  provided  against  it ;  and 
the  initial  act  of  that  divinely-commissioned  power  is  of 
20  course  to  deliver  her  challenge  and  to  defy  the  enemy.  Such 
a  preamble  then  gives  a  meaning  to  her  position  in  the 
world,  and  an  interpretation  to  her  whole  course  of  teaching 
and  action. 

In  like  manner  she  has  ever  put  forth,  with  most  energetic 
distinctness,  those  other  great  elementary  truths,  which 
either  are  an  explanation  of  her  mission  or  give  a  character 
to  her  work.  She  does  not  teach  that  human  nature  is 
irreclaimable,  else  wherefore  should  she  be  sent  ?  not(,) 
that  it  is  to  be  shattered  and  reversed,  but  to  be  extricated 
so  purified,  and  restored  ;  not(,)  that  it  is  a  mere  mass  of 
(hopeless)  evil,  but  that  it  has  the  promise  (upon  it)  of 
great  things,  and  even  now(,  in  its  present  state  of  disorder 
and  excess,)  has  a  virtue  and  a  praise  proper  to  itself. 
But  in  the  next  place  she  knows  and  she  preaches  that 
such  a  restoration,  as  she  aims  at  effecting  in  it,  must 
be  brought  about,  not  simply  through  any  outward  pro 
vision^)  of  preaching  and  teaching,  even  though  it  be  her 
own,  but  from  a  certain  inward  spiritual  power  or  grace 
imparted  directly  from  above,  and  which  is  in  her  keeping. 

36  any]  certain  37  it]  they  38  a  certain]  an 

39  which  is  in  her  keeping]  of  which  she  is  the  channel 


340  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY, 

She  has  it  in  charge  to  rescue  human  nature  from  its 
misery,  but  not  simply  by  raising  it  [up]on  its  own 
level,  but  by  lifting  it  up  to  a  higher  level  than  its 
own.  She  recognizes  in  it  real  moral  excellence  though 
degraded,  but  she  cannot  set  it  free  from  earth  except 
by  exalting  it  towards  heaven.  It  was  for  this  end  that 
a  renovating  grace  was  put  into  her  hands,  and  therefore 
from  the  nature  of  the  gift,  as  well  as  from  the  reasonable 
ness  of  the  case,  she  goes  on,  as  a  further  point,  to  insist, 
that  all  true  conversion  must  begin  with  the  first  springs  10 
of  thought,  and  to  teach  that  each  individual  man  must 
be  in  his  own  person  one  whole  and  perfect  temple  of  God, 
while  he  is  also  one  of  the  living  stones  which  build  up 
a  visible  religious  community.  And  thus  the  distinctions 
between  nature  and  grace,  and  between  outward  and  inward 
religion,  become  two  further  articles  in  what  I  have  called 
the  preamble  of  her  divine  commission. 

Such  truths  as  these  she  vigorously  reiterates,  and 
pertinaciously  inflicts  upon  mankind ;  as  to  such  she 
observes  no  half -measures,  no  economical  reserve,  no  20 
delicacy  or  prudence.  "  Ye  must  be  born  again,"  is  the 
simple,  direct  form  of  words  which  she  uses  after  her 
Divine  Master  ;  "  your  whole  nature  must  be  re-born, 
your  passions,  and  your  affections,  and  your  aims,  and 
your  conscience,  and  your  will,  must  all  be  bathed  in 
a  new  element,  and  reconsecrated  to  your  Maker,( — }and, 
the  last  not  the  least,  your  intellect."  It  was  for  repeating 
these  points  of  her  teaching  in  my  own  way,  that  certain 
passages  of  one  of  my  Volumes  have  been  brought  into 
the  general  accusation  which  has  been  made  against  my  so 
religious  opinions.  The  writer  has  said  that  I  was  demented 
if  I  believed,  and  unprincipled  if  I  did  not  believe,  in  my 
(own)  statement  that  a  lazy,  ragged,  filthy,  story-telling 
beggar-woman,  if  chaste,  sober,  cheerful,  and  religious, 
had  a  prospect  of  heaven,  which  was  absolutely  closed  to 
an  accomplished  statesman,  or  lawyer,  or  noble,  be  he  ever 
so  just,  upright,  generous,  honourable,  and  conscientious, 
unless  he  had  also  some  portion  of  the  divine  Christian 
grace(s)  ;( — )yet  I  should  have  thought  myself  defended 

2  raising]  restoring  35  which]  such  as 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  341 

from  criticism  by  the  words  which  our  Lord  used  to  the 
chief  priests,  "  The  publicans  and  harlots  go  into  the 
kingdom  of  God  before  you."  And  I  was  subjected  again 
to  the  same  alternative  of  imputations,  for  having  ventured 
to  say  that  consent  to  an  unchaste  wish  was  indefinitely 
more  heinous  than  any  lie  viewed  apart  from  its  causes, 
its  motives,  and  its  consequences  :  though  a  lie,  viewed 
under  the  limitation  of  these  conditions,  is  a  random  utter 
ance,  an  almost  outward  act,  not  directly  from  the  heart, 

10  however  disgraceful  (and  despicable)  it  may  be,  (however 
prejudicial  to  the  social  contract,  however  deserving  of 
public  reprobation  ;)  whereas  we  have  the  express  words 
of  our  Lord  to  the  doctrine  that  "  whoso  looketh  on  a 
woman  to  lust  after  her,  hath  committed  adultery  with 
her  already  in  his  heart."  On  the  strength  of  these  texts(,) 
I  have  surely  as  much  right  to  believe  in  these  doctrines 
(which  have  caused  so  much  surprise,)  as  to  believe  in  [the 
doctrine  of]  original  sin,  or  that  there  is  a  supernatural 
revelation,  or  that  a  Divine  Person  suffered,  or  that  punish- 

20  ment  is  eternal. 

Passing  now  from  what  I  have  called  the  preamble  of  that 
grant  of  power,  with  which  the  Church  is  invested,  to  that 
power  itself,  Infallibility,  I  make  two  brief  remarks :( — 1.) 
on  the  one  hand,  I  am  not  here  determining  any  thing  about 
the  essential  seat  of  that  power,  because  that  is  a  question 
doctrinal,  not  historical  and  practical ;  (2.)  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  am  I  extending  the  direct  subject-matter,  over 
which  that  power  (of  Infallibility)  has  jurisdiction,  beyond 
religious  opinion  : — and  now  as  to  the  power  itself. 

30  This  power,  viewed  in  its  fulness,  is  as  tremendous  as 
the  giant  evil  which  has  called  for  it.  It  claims,  when 
brought  into  exercise  (but)  in  the  legitimate  manner,  for 
otherwise  of  course  it  is  but  dormant,  to  have  for  itself 
a  sure  guidance  into  the  very  meaning  of  every  portion 
of  the  Divine  Message  in  detail,  which  was  committed  by 
our  Lord  to  His  Apostles.  It  claims  to  know  its  own 
limits,  and  to  decide  what  it  can  determine  absolutely  and 

22  with  which  the  Church  is  invested]  which  is  made  to  the  Church 

23  make]  premise 

33-4  dormant,  to  have  for  itself  a  sure  guidance  into]  quiescent,  to 
know  for  certain  35  the  Divine]  that  Divine 


342  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

what  it  cannot.  It  claims,  moreover,  to  have  a  hold  upon 
statements  not  directly  religious,  so  far  as  this,( — }to 
determine  whether  they  indirectly  relate  to  religion,  and, 
according  to  its  own  definitive  judgment,  to  pronounce 
whether  or  not,  in  a  particular  case,  they  are  (simply) 
consistent  with  revealed  truth.  It  claims  to  decide  magis 
terially,  whether  infallibly  or  not,  that  such  and  such 
statements  are  or  are  not  prejudicial  to  the  [Apostolic] 
depositum  of  faith,  in  their  spirit  or  in  their  consequences, 
and  to  allow  them,  or  condemn  and  forbid  them,  accord- 10 
ingly.  It  claims  to  impose  silence  at  will  on  any  matters, 
or  controversies,  of  doctrine,  which  on  its  own  ipse  dixit, 
it  pronounces  to  be  dangerous,  or  inexpedient,  or  inoppor 
tune.  It  claims  that(,)  whatever  may  be  the  judgment  of 
Catholics  upon  such  acts,  these  acts  should  be  received  by 
them  with  those  outward  marks  of  reverence,  submission, 
and  loyalty,  which  Englishmen,  for  instance,  pay  to  the 
presence  of  their  sovereign,  without  public  criticism  on 
them,  as  being  in  their  matter  (they  are)  inexpedient,  or 
in  their  manner  violent  or  harsh.  And  lastly,  it  claims  to  20 
have  the  right  of  inflicting  spiritual  punishment,  of  cutting 
off  from  the  ordinary  channels  of  the  divine  life,  and  of 
simply  excommunicating,  those  who  refuse  to  submit 
themselves  to  its  formal  declarations.  Such  is  the  infalli 
bility  lodged  in  the  Catholic  Church,  viewed  in  the  con 
crete,  as  clothed  and  surrounded  by  the  appendages  of 
its  high  sovereignty  :  it  is,  to  repeat  what  I  said  above, 
a  supereminent  prodigious  power  sent  upon  earth  to 
encounter  and  master  a  giant  evil. 

And  now,  having  thus  described  it,  I  profess  my  own  so 
absolute  submission  to  its  claim.  I  believe  the  whole 
revealed  dogma  as  taught  by  the  Apostles,  as  committed 
by  the  Apostles  to  the  Church,  and  as  declared  by  the 
Church  to  me.  I  receive  it,  as  it  is  infallibly  interpreted 
by  the  authority  to  whom  it  is  thus  committed,  and  (im 
plicitly)  as  it  shall  be,  in  like  manner,  further  interpreted 
by  that  same  authority  till  the  end  of  time.  I  submit, 
moreover,  to  the  universally  received  traditions  of  the 
Church,  in  which  lies  the  matter  of  those  new  dogmatic 

7  infallibly]  as  within  its  own  province  9  depositum]  Depositum 

18  public]  expressing  any  19  ,  as  being]  on  the  ground  that 


(POSITION  OP  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  343 

definitions  which  are  from  time  to  time  made,  and  which 
in  all  times  are  the  clothing  and  the  illustration  of  the 
Catholic  dogma  as  already  defined.  And  I  submit  myself 
to  those  other  decisions  of  the  Holy  See,  theological  or  not, 
through  the  organs  which  it  has  itself  appointed,  which, 
waiving  the  question  of  their  infallibility,  on  the  lowest 
ground  come  to  me  with  a  claim  to  be  accepted  and  obeyed. 
Also,  I  consider  that,  gradually  and  in  the  course  of  ages, 
Catholic  inquiry  has  taken  certain  definite  shapes,  and  has 

10  thrown  itself  into  the  form  of  a  science,  with  a  method 
and  a  phraseology  of  its  own,  under  the  intellectual  hand 
ling  of  great  minds,  such  as  St.  Athanasius,  St.  Augustine, 
and  St.  Thomas  ;  and  I  feel  no  temptation  at  all  to  break 
in  pieces  the  great  legacy  of  thought  thus  committed  to  us 
for  these  latter  days. 

All  this  being  considered  as  the  profession  (which 
I  make)  ex  animo,  as  on  my  own  part,  so  also  on  the  part 
of  the  Catholic  body,  as  far  as  I  know  it,  it  will  at  first 
sight  be  said  that  the  restless  intellect  of  our  common 

20  humanity  is  utterly  weighed  down(,)  to  the  repression  of  all 
independent  effort  and  action  whatever,  so  that,  if  this  is 
to  be  the  mode  of  bringing  it  into  order,  it  is  brought  into 
order  only  to  be  destroyed.  But  this  is  far  from  the  result, 
far  from  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  intention  of  that  high 
Providence  who  has  provided  a  great  remedy  for  a  great 
evil, — far  from  borne  out  by  the  history  of  the  conflict 
between  Infallibility  and  Reason  in  the  past,  and  the  pro 
spect  of  it  in  the  future.  The  energy  of  the  human  intellect 
"  does  from  opposition  grow  ;  "  it  thrives  and  is  joyous, 

30  with  a  tough  elastic  strength,  under  the  terrible  blows  of 
the  divinely-fashioned  weapon,  and  is  never  so  much 
itself  as  when  it  has  lately  been  overthrown.  It  is  the 
custom  with  Protestant  writers  to  consider  that,  whereas 
there  are  two  great  principles  in  action  in  the  history  of 
religion,  Authority  and  Private  Judgment,  they  have  all 
the  Private  Judgment  to  themselves,  and  we  have  the  full 
inheritance  and  the  superincumbent  oppression  of  Authority. 
But  this  is  not  so  ;  it  is  the  vast  Catholic  body  itself,  and  it 
only,  which  affords  an  arena  for  both  combatants  in  that 

16  as  the  1864,  1865~\  to  be  a  1S64  (another  copy) 

17  on  my  own  part]  for  myself 


344  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

awful   never-dying  duel.    It  is  necessary  for  the  very  life 
of  religion,  viewed  in  its  large  operations  and  its  history, 
that  the  warfare  should  be  incessantly  carried  on.    J^very 
exercise  of  Infallibility  is  brought  out  into  act  by  an  intense 
and   varied  operation   of   the   Reason,   from  within   and 
without,  and  provokes  again(,  when  it  has  done  its  work,) 
a  re-action  of  Reason  against  it ;   and,  as  in  a  civil  polity 
the  State  exists  and  endures  by  means  of  the  rivalry  and 
collision   the  encroachments  and  defeats  of  its  constituent 
parts   so  in  like  manner  Catholic  Christendom  is  no  simple  10 
exhibition  of  religious  absolutism,  but  [it]  presents  a  con 
tinuous  picture  of  Authority  and  Private  Judgment  alter 
nately  advancing  and  retreating  as  the  ebb  and  flow  ot  the 
tide  -—it  is  a  vast  assemblage  of  human  beings  with  wilii 
intellects  and  wild  passions,  brought  together  into  one  by 
the  beauty  and  the  majesty  of  a  Superhuman  Power— into 
what  may  be  called  a  large  reformatory  or  training-school, 
(not  as  if  into  a  hospital  or  into  a  prison,}  not  (in  order)  to 
be  sent  to  bed,  not  to  be  buried  alive,  but  ((if  I  may  change 
my  metaphor)  brought  together  as  if  into  some  moral  20 
factory,)  for  the  melting,  refining,  and  moulding,  [as  m 
some  moral  factory,]  by  an  incessant  noisy  process    [(if 
I  may  proceed  to  another  metaphor,)]  of  the  raw  material 
of  human  nature,  so  excellent,  so  dangerous,  so  capab 
divine  purposes. 

St  Paul  says  in  one  place  that  his  Apostolical  power  is 
given  him  to  edification,  and  not  to  destruction  I  here 
can  be  no  better  account  of  the  Infallibility  of  the  Church 
It  is  a  supplv  for  a  need,  and  it  does  not  go  beyond  that 
need  Its  object  is,  and  its  effect  also,  not  to  enfeeble  the  30 
freedom  or  vigour  of  human  thought  in  religious  specula 
tion,  but  to  resist  and  control  its  extravagance.  What 
have  been  its  great  works  ?  All  of  them  in  the  distinct 
province  of  theology :— to  put  down  Ariamsm,  Euty- 
chianism,  Pelagianism,  Manichaeism,  Lutheranism,  Jan 
senism.  Such  is  the  broad  result  of  its  action  in  the 
past ;— and  now  as  to  the  securities  which  are  given  us 
that  so  it  ever  will  act  in  time  to  come. 

5-6  from  within  and  without]  both  as  its  ally  and  as  its  opponent 

16  maiesty]  Majesty 

23  of  the  raw  1864,  1865]  the  raw  1864  (another  copy) 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  345 

First,  Infallibility  cannot  act  outside  of  a  definite  circle 
of  thought,  and  it  must  in  all  its  decisions,  or  definitions, 
as  they  are  called,  profess  to  be  keeping  within  it.  The 
great  truths  of  the  moral  law,  of  natural  religion,  and  of 
Apostolical  faith,  are  both  its  boundary  and  its  foundation. 
It  must  not  go  beyond  them,  and  it  must  ever  appeal  to 
them.  Both  its  subject-matter,  and  its  articles  in  that 
subject-matter,  are  fixed.  [Thus,  in  illustration,  it  does 
not  extend  to  statements,  however  sound  and  evident, 

10  which  are  mere  logical  conclusions  from  the  Articles  of  the 
Apostolic  Depositum ;  again,  it  can  pronounce  nothing 
about  the  persons  of  heretics,  whose  works  fall  within  its 
legitimate  province.]  (And)  It  must  ever  profess  to  be 
guided  by  Scripture  and  by  tradition.  It  must  refer  to  the 
particular  Apostolic  truth  which  it  is  enforcing,  or  (what 
is  called)  defining.  Nothing,  then,  can  be  presented  to  me, 
in  time  to  come,  as  part  of  the  faith,  but  what  I  ought 
already  to  have  received,  and  (hitherto)  have  not  actually 
received,  (if  not)  merely  because  it  has  not  been  told  me. 

20  Nothing  can  be  imposed  upon  me  different  in  kind  from 
what  I  hold  already, — much  less  contrary  to  it.  The  new 
truth  which  is  promulgated,  if  it  is  to  be  called  new,  must 
be  at  least  homogeneous,  cognate,  implicit,  viewed  relatively 
to  the  old  truth.  It  must  be  what  I  may  even  have  guessed, 
or  wished,  to  be  included  in  the  Apostolic  revelation  ;  and 
at  least  it  will  be  of  such  a  character,  that  my  thoughts 
readily  concur  in  it  or  coalesce  with  it,  as  soon  as  I  hear  it. 
Perhaps  I  and  others  actually  have  always  believed  it, 
and  the  only  question  which  is  now  decided  in  my  behalf, 

so  is  that  I  am  henceforth  to  believe(,)  that  I  have  only  been 
holding  (all  along)  what  the  Apostles  held  before  me. 

Let  me  take  the  doctrine  which  Protestants  consider  our 
greatest  difficulty,  that  of  the  Immaculate  Conception. 
Here  I  entreat  the  reader  to  recollect  my  main  drift,  which 
is  this.  I  have  no  difficulty  in  receiving  it  :  (and  that, 
because  it  so  intimately  harmonizes  with  that  circle  of 
recognized  dogmatic  truths,  into  which  it  has  been  recently 

18-19  not  actually  received,  (if  not)] -been  kept  from  receiving,  (if  so,) 
19  received,  (if  not)  1864}  received ;  if  not,  1864  (another  copy). 
19  told]  brought  home  to  30  am  henceforth]  have  henceforth 

the  satisfaction  of  having  35  it :]  the  doctrine  j 


346  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

received  ; — but)  if  /  have  no  difficulty,  why  may  not 
another  have  no  difficulty  also  ?  why  may  not  a  hundred  ? 
a  thousand  ?  Now  I  am  sure  that  Catholics  in  general 
have  not  any  intellectual  difficulty  at  all  on  the  subject 
of  the  Immaculate  Conception ;  and  that  there  is  no 
reason  why  they  should.  Priests  have  no  difficulty. 
You  tell  me  that  they  ought  to  have  a  difficulty; — 
but  they  have  not.  Be  large-minded  enough  to  believe, 
that  men  may  reason  and  feel  very  differently  from  your 
selves  ;  how  is  it  that  men  [fall],  when  left  to  themselves,  10 
(fall)  into  such  various  forms  of  religion,  except  that  there 
are  various  types  of  mind  among  them,  very  distinct  from 
each  other  ?  From  my  testimony  then  about  myself,  if 
you  believe  it,  judge  of  others  also  who  are  Catholics  :  we 
do  not  find  the  difficulties  which  you  do  in  the  doctrines 
which  we  hold  ;  we  have  no  intellectual  difficulty  in  that 
(doctrine)  in  particular,  which  you  call  a  novelty  of  this 
day.  We  priests  need  not  be  hypocrites,  though  we  be 
called  upon  to  believe  in  the  Immaculate  Conception.  To 
that  large  class  of  minds,  who  believe  in  Christianity,  after  20 
our  manner, — in  the  particular  temper,  spirit,  and  light, 
(whatever  word  is  used,)  in  which  Catholics  believe  it, — 
there  is  no  burden  at  all  in  holding  that  the  Blessed  Virgin 
was  conceived  without  original  sin ;  indeed,  it  is  a  simple  fact 
to  say,  that  Catholics  have  not  come  to  believe  it  because  it- 
is  denned,  but  (that)  it  was  defined  because  they  believed  it. 
So  far  from  the  definition  in  1854  being  a  tyrannical 
infliction  on  the  Catholic  world,  it  was  received  every 
where  on  its  promulgation  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 
It  was  in  consequence  of  the  unanimous  petition,  pre-  so 
sented  from  all  parts  (of  the  Church)  to  the  Holy  See,  in 
behalf  of  a  (ex  cathedrd)  declaration  that  the  doctrine 
was  Apostolic,  that  it  was  declared  so  to  be.  I  never  heard 
of  one  Catholic  having  difficulties  in  receiving  it,  whose 
faith  on  other  grounds  was  not  already  suspicious.  Of 
course  there  were  grave  and  good  men,  who  were  made 
anxious  by  the  doubt  whether  it  could  be  (formally) 
proved  (to  be)  Apostolical  either  by  Scripture  or  tradition, 
and  who  accordingly,  though  believing  it  themselves,  did 

32  a]  an  34  receiving  it]  receiving  the  doctrine 

35  already  1864,  1865]  really  1864  (another  copy). 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  347 

not  see  how  it  could  be  defined  by  authority  (and  imposed 
upon  all  Catholics  as  a  matter  of  faith)  ;  but  this  is  another 
matter.  The  point  in  question  is,  whether  the  doctrine  is 
a  burden.  I  believe  it  to  be  none.  So  far  from  it  being 
so,  I  sincerely  think  that  St.  Bernard  and  St.  Thomas, 
who  scrupled  at  it  in  their  day,  had  they  lived  into  this, 
would  have  rejoiced  to  accept  it  for  its  own  sake.  Their 
difficulty,  as  I  view  it,  consisted  in  matters  of  words,  ideas, 
and  arguments.  They  thought  the  doctrine  inconsistent 

10  with  other  doctrines  ;  and  those  who  defended  it  in  that 
age  had  not  that  precision  in  their  view  of  it,  which  has 
been  given  to  it  by  means  of  the  long  controversy  of  the 
centuries  which  followed.  And  hence  the  difference  of 
opinion,  and  the  controversy. 

Now  the  instance  which  I  have  been  taking  suggests 
another  remark  ;  the  number  of  those  (so  called)  new 
doctrines  will  not  oppress  us,  if  it  takes  eight  centuries  to 
promulgate  even  one  of  them.  Such  is  about  the  length  of 
time  through  which  the  preparation  has  been  carried  on 

20  for  the  definition  of  the  Immaculate  Conception.  This  of 
course  is  an  extraordinary  case  ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  say 
what  is  ordinary,  considering  how  few  are  the  formal 
occasions  on  which  the  voice  of  Infallibility  has  been 
solemnly  lifted  up.  It  is  to  the  Pope  in  Ecumenical  Council 
that  we  look,  as  to  the  normal  seat  of  Infallibility  :  now 
there  have  been  only  eighteen  such  Councils  since  Chris 
tianity  was, — an  average  of  one  to  a  century, — and  of 
these  Councils  some  passed  no  doctrinal  decree  at  all, 
others  were  employed  on  only  one,  and  many  of  them 

so  were  concerned  with  only  elementary  points  of  the  Creed. 
The  Council  of  Trent  embraced  a  large  field  of  doctrine 
certainly  ;  but  I  should  apply  to  its  Canons  a  remark  con 
tained  in  that  University  Sermon  of  mine,  which  has  been 
so  ignorantly  criticized  in  the  Pamphlet  which  has  led  to 
my  writing  ; — I  there  have  said  that  the  various  verses  of 
the  Athanasian  Creed  are  only  repetitions  in  various  shapes 
of  one  and  the  same  idea  ;  and  in  like  manner,  the  Triden- 
tine  Decrees  are  not  isolated  from  each  other,  but  are 

12  given  to  it]  attained  12  controversy]  disputes 

13  hence]  in  this  want  of  precision  lay 

34-5  led  to  my  writing]  been  the  occasion  of  this  Volume 


348  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

occupied  in  bringing  out  in  detail,  by  a  number  of  separate 
declarations,  as  if  into  bodily  form,  a  few  necessary  truths. 
I  should  make  the  same  remark  on  the  various  Theses 
condemned  by  Popes,  and  on  their  dogmatic  decisions 
generally.  I  acknowledge  that  at  first  sight  they  seem 
from  their  number  to  be  a  greater  burden  to  the  faith  of 
individuals  than  are  the  Canons  of  Councils  ;  still  I  do  not 
believe  (that)  in  matter  of  fact  [that]  they  are  so  at  all, 
and  I  give  this  reason  for  it : — it  is  not  that  a  Catholic, 
layman  or  priest,  is  indifferent  to  the  subject,  or,  fromio 
a  sort  of  recklessness,  will  accept  any  thing  that  is  placed 
before  him,  or  is  willing,  like  a  lawyer,  to  speak  according 
to  his  brief,  but  that  in  such  condemnations  the  Holy  See 
is  engaged,  for  the  most  part,  in  repudiating  one  or  two 
great  lines  of  error,  such  as  Luther anism  or  Jansenism, 
principally  ethical  not  doctrinal,  which  are  foreign  to  the 
Catholic  mind,  and  that  it  is  (but)  expressing  what  any 
good  Catholic,  of  fair  abilities,  though  unlearned,  would 
say  himself,  from  common  and  sound  sense,  if  the  matter 
could  be  put  before  him.  20 

Now  I  will  go  on  in  fairness  to  say  what  I  think  is  the 
great  trial  to  the  Reason,  when  confronted  with  that 
august  prerogative  of  the  Catholic  Church,  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking.  I  enlarged  just  now  upon  the  concrete 
shape  and  circumstances,  under  which  pure  infallible 
authority  presents  itself  to  the  Catholic.  That  authority 
has  the  prerogative  of  an  indirect  jurisdiction  on  subject- 
matters  which  lie  beyond  its  own  proper  limits,  and  it 
most  reasonably  has  such  a  jurisdiction.  It  could  not  act 
in  its  own  province,  unless  it  had  a  right  to  act  out  of  it.  so 
It  could  not  properly  defend  religious  truth,  without  claim 
ing  for  it  what  may  be  called  its  pomosria  ;  or,  to  take 
another  illustration,  without  acting  as  we  act,  as  a  nation, 
in  claiming  as  our  own,  not  only  the  land  on  which  we  live, 
but  what  are  called  British  waters.  The  Catholic  Church 
claims,  not  only  to  judge  infallibly  on  religious  questions, 
but  to  animadvert  on  opinions  in  secular  matters  which 

3-4  Theses  condemned  by  Popes]  theological  censures,  promulgated 
by  Popes,  which  the  Church  has  received 

5  acknowledge]  own  5  they]  those  decisions 

6  to  the]  on  the          16  foreign  to]  divergent  from        32  it]  that  truth 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  349 

bear  upon  religion,  on  matters  of  philosophy,  of  science,  of 
literature,  of  history,  and  it  demands  our  submission  to 
her  claim.  It  claims  to  censure  books,  to  silence  authors, 
and  to  forbid  discussions.  In  [all]  this  (province,  taken  as 
a  whole,}  it  does  not  so  much  speak  doctrinally,  as  enforce 
measures  of  discipline.  It  must  of  course  be  obeyed  without 
a  word,  and  perhaps  in  process  of  time  it  will  tacitly  recede 
from  its  own  injunctions.  In  such  cases  the  question  of 
faith  does  not  come  in  (at  all)  ;  for  what  is  matter  of  faith 

10  is  true  for  all  times,  and  never  can  be  unsaid.  Nor  does  it 
at  all  follow,  because  there  is  a  gift  of  infallibility  in  the 
Catholic  Church,  that  therefore  the  power  in  possession  of 
it  is  in  all  its  proceedings  infallible.  "  O,  it  is  excellent," 
says  the  poet,  "  to  have  a  giant's  strength,  but  tyrannous, 
to  use  it  like  a  giant."  I  think  history  supplies  us  with 
instances  in  the  Church,  where  legitimate  power  has  been 
harshly  used.  To  make  such  admission  is  no  more  than 
saying  that  the  divine  treasure,  in  the  words  of  the  Apostle, 
is  "in  earthen  vessels  ;  "  nor  does  it  follow  that  the  sub- 

20  stance  of  the  acts  of  the  ruling  power  is  not  right  and 
expedient,  because  its  manner  may  have  been  faulty. 
Such  high  authorities  act  by  means  of  instruments  ;  we 
know  how  such  instruments  claim  for  themselves  the  name 
of  their  principals,  who  thus  get  the  credit  of  faults  which 
really  are  not  theirs.  But  granting  all  this  to  an  extent 
greater  than  can  with  any  show  of  reason  be  imputed  to 
the  ruling  power  in  the  Church,  what  (difficulty)  is  there  in 
(the  fact  of)  this  want  of  prudence  or  moderation  more 
than  can  be  urged,  with  far  greater  justice,  against  Pro- 

30  testant  communities  and  institutions  ?  What  is  there  in 
it  to  make  us  hypocrites,  if  it  has  not  that  effect  upon 
Protestants  ?  We  are  called  upon,  not  to  profess  any 
thing,  but  to  submit  and  be  silent(,  as  Protestant  Church 
men  have  before  now  obeyed  the  roj^al  command  to  abstain 
from  certain  theological  questions).  Such  injunctions^]  as 
I  have  supposed,  are  laid  merely  upon  our  actions,  not 
upon  our  thoughts.  How,  for  instance,  does  it  tend  to 
make  a  man  a  hypocrite,  to  be  forbidden  to  publish  a 
libel  ?  his  thoughts  are  as  free  as  before  :  authoritative 

12-13  power  ...  is  ...  its]  parties  who  are  .  .  .  are  .  . .  their 
36  supposed]  been  contemplating 


350  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

prohibitions  may  tease  and  irritate,  but  they  have  no 
bearing  whatever  upon  the  exercise  of  reason. 

So  much  at  first  sight ;  but  I  will  go  on  to  say  further, 
that,  in  spite  of  all  that  the  most  hostile  critic  may  say 
upon  the  encroachments  or  severities  of  high  ecclesiastics, 
in  times  past,  in  the  use  of  their  power,  I  think  that  the 
event  has  shown  after  all,  that  they  were  mainly  in  the 
right,  and  that  those  whom  they  were  hard  upon  (were) 
mainly  in  the  wrong.  I  love,  for  instance,  the  name  of 
Origen  :  I  will  not  listen  to  the  notion  that  so  great  a  soul  10 
was  lost ;  but  I  am  quite  sure  that,  in  the  contest  between 
his  doctrine  and  [his]  followers  and  (the)  ecclesiastical 
power,  his  opponents  were  right,  and  he  was  wrong.  Yet 
who  can  speak  with  patience  of  his  enemy  and  the  enemy 
of  St.  John  Chrysostom,  that  Theophilus,  bishop  of 
Alexandria  ?  who  can  admire  or  revere  Pope  Vigilius  ? 
And  here  another  consideration  presents  itself  to  my 
thoughts.  In  reading  ecclesiastical  history,  when  I  was 
an  Anglican,  it  used  to  be  forcibly  brought  home  to  me, 
how  the  initial  error  of  what  afterwards  became  heresy  2o 
was  the  urging  forward  some  truth  against  the  prohibition 
of  authority  at  an  unseasonable  time.  There  is  a  time  for 
every  thing,  and  many  a  man  desires  a  reformation  of  an 
abuse,  or  the  fuller  development  of  a  doctrine,  or  the 
adoption  of  a  particular  policy,  but  forgets  to  ask  himself 
whether  the  right  time  for  it  is  come  ;  and,  knowing  that 
there  is  no  one  who  will  do  any  thing  towards  it(s  accom 
plishment)  in  his  own  lifetime  unless  he  does  it  himself, 
he  will  not  listen  to  the  voice  of  authority,  and  (he)  spoils 
a  good  work  in  his  own  century,  (in  order)  that  another  30 
man,  as  yet  unborn,  may  not  (have  the  opportunity  of) 
bringing)  it  happily  to  perfection  in  the  next.  He  may 
seem  to  the  world  to  be  nothing  else  than  a  bold  champion 
for  the  truth  and  a  martyr  to  free  opinion,  when  he  is  just 
one  of  those  persons  whom  the  competent  authority  ought 
to  silence,  and,  though  the  case  may  not  fall  within  that 
subject-matter  in  which  it  is  infallible,  or  the  formal  con 
ditions  of  the  exercise  of  that  gift  may  be  wanting,  it  is 
clearly  the  duty  of  authority  to  act  vigorously  in  the  case. 

4-5  say  upon]  urge  about  27  do]  be  doing 

37  which  it]  which  that  authority 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  351 

Yet  that  act  will  go  down  to  posterity  as  an  instance  of 
a  tyrannical  interference  with  private  judgment,  and  of 
the  silencing  of  a  reformer,  and  of  a  base  love  of  corrup 
tion  or  error  ;  and  it  will  show  still  less  to  advantage,  if 
the  ruling  power  happens  in  its  proceedings  to  act  with 
any  defect  of  prudence  or  consideration.  And  all  those 
who  take  the  part  of  that  ruling  authority  will  be  con 
sidered  as  time-servers,  or  indifferent  to  the  cause  of 
uprightness  and  truth  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  said 

10  authority  may  be  (accidentally)  supported  by  a  violent 
ultra  party,  which  exalts  opinions  into  dogmas,  and  has  it 
principally  at  heart  to  destroy  every  school  of  thought  but 
its  own. 

Such  a  state  of  things  may  be  provoking  and  discourag 
ing  at  the  time,  in  the  case  of  two  classes  of  persons  ;  of 
moderate  men  who  wish  to  make  differences  in  religious 
opinion  as  little  as  they  fairly  can  be  made  ;  and  of  such 
as  keenly  perceive,  and  are  honestly  eager  to  remedy, 
existing  evils, — evils,  of  which  divines  in  this  or  that 

20  foreign  country  know  nothing  at  all,  and  which  even  at 
home(,  where  they  exist,)  it  is  not  every  one  who  has  the 
means  of  estimating.  This  is  a  state  of  things  both  of  past 
time  and  of  the  present.  We  live  in  a  wonderful  age  ;  the 
enlargement  of  the  circle  of  secular  knowledge  just  now  is 
simply  a  bewilderment,  and  the  more  so,  because  it  has 
the  promise  of  continuing,  and  that  with  greater  rapidity, 
and  more  signal  results.  Now  these  discoveries,  certain 
or  probable,  have  in  matter  of  fact  an  indirect  bearing 
upon  religious  opinions,  and  the  question  arises  how  are 

so  the  respective  claims  of  revelation  and  of  natural  science 
to  be  adjusted.  Few  minds  in  earnest  can  remain  at  ease 
without  some  sort  of  rational  grounds  for  their  religious 
belief  ;  to  reconcile  theory  and  fact  is  almost  an  instinct 
of  the  mind.  When  then  a  flood  of  facts,  ascertained  or 
suspected,  comes  pouring  in  upon  us,  with  a  multitude  of 
others  in  prospect,  all  believers  in  revelation,  be  they 
Catholic  or  not,  are  roused  to  consider  their  bearing  upon 
themselves,  both  for  the  honour  of  God,  and  from  tender 
ness  for  those  many  souls  who,  in  consequence  of  the  con- 

1  that]  its  5  act  with]  evince  36  revelation]  Revelation 


352  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

fident  tone  of  the  schools  of  secular  knowledge,  are  in 
danger  of  being  led  away  into  a  bottomless  liberalism  of 
thought. 

I  am  not  going  to  criticize  here  that  vast  body  of  men, 
in  the  mass,  who  at  this  time  would  profess  to  be  liberals 
in  religion  ;  and  who  look  towards  the  discoveries  of  the 
age,  certain  or  in  progress,  as  their  informants,  direct  or 
indirect,  as  to  what  they  shall  think  about  the  unseen  and 
the  future.  The  Liberalism  which  gives  a  colour  to  society 
now,  is  very  different  from  that  character  of  thought  which  10 
bore  the  name  thirty  or  forty  years  ago.  (Now)  It  is  scarcely 
[now]  a  party  ;  it  is  the  educated  lay  world.  When  I  was 
young,  I  knew  the  word  first  as  giving  name  to  a  periodical, 
set  up  by  Lord  Byron  and  others.  Now,  as  then,  I  have 
no  sympathy  with  the  philosophy  of  Byron.  Afterwards, 
Liberalism  was  the  badge  of  a  theological  school,  of  a  dry 
and  repulsive  character/ not  very  dangerous  in  itself,  though 
dangerous  as  opening  the  door  to  evils  which  it  did  not 
itself  either  anticipate  or  comprehend.  Now  it  is  nothing 
else  than  that  deep,  plausible  scepticism,  of  which  I  spoke  20 
above,  as  being  the  development  of  human  reason,  as 
practically  exercised  by  the  natural  man. 

The  Liberal  religionists  of  this  day  are  a  very  mixed 
body,  and  therefore  I  am  not  intending  to  speak  against 
them.  There  may  be,  and  doubtless  is,  in  the  hearts  of 
some  or  many  of  them  a  real  antipathy  or  anger  against 
revealed  truth,  which  it  is  distressing  to  think  of.  Again  ; 
in  many  men  of  science  or  literature  there  may  be  an 
animosity  arising  from  almost  a  personal  feeling  ;  it  being 
a  matter  of  party,  a  point  of  honour,  the  excitement  of  30 
a  game,  or  a  consequence  of  soreness  or  annoyance  occa 
sioned  by  the  acrimony  or  narrowness  of  apologists  for 
religion,  to  prove  that  Christianity  or  that  Scripture  is 
untrustworthy.  Many  scientific  and  literary  men,  on  the 
other  hand,  go  on,  I  am  confident,  in  a  straightforward 
impartial  way,  in  their  own  province  and  on  their  own  line 
of  thought,  without  any  disturbance  from  religious  opinion 
in  themselves,  or  any  wish  at  all  to  give  pain  to  others 
by  the  result  of  their  investigations.  It  would  ill  become 

19  Now]  At  present  31  consequence  of]  satisfaction  to  the 

37  opinion]  difficulties 


(POSITION  OP  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  353 

me,  as  if  I  were  afraid  of  truth  of  any  kind,  to  blame  those 
who  pursue  secular  facts,  by  means  of  the  reason  which 
God  has  given  them,  to  their  logical  conclusions  :  or  to 
be  angry  with  science^)  because  religion  is  bound  (in  duty) 
to  take  cognizance  of  its  teaching.  But  putting  these 
particular  classes  of  men  aside,  as  having  no  special  call 
on  the  s}Tmpathy  of  the  Catholic,  of  course  he  does  most 
deeply  enter  into  the  feelings  of  a  fourth  and  large  class 
of  men,  in  the  educated  portions  of  society,  of  religious  and 

10  sincere  minds,  who  are  simply  perplexed, — frightened  or 
rendered  desperate,  as  the  case  may  be, — by  the  utter 
confusion  into  which  late  discoveries  or  speculations  have 
thrown  their  most  elementary  ideas  of  religion.  Who  does 
not  feel  for  such  men  ?  who  can  have  one  unkind  thought 
of  them  ?  I  take  up  (in  their  behalf)  St.  Augustine's 
beautiful  words,  "  Illi  in  vos  saeviant,"  &c.  Let  them  be 
fierce  with  you  who  have  no  experience  of  the  difficulty 
with  which  error  is  discriminated  from  truth,  and  the  way 
of  life  is  found  amid  the  illusions  of  the  world.  How  many 

20  Catholics  have  in  their  thoughts  followed  such  men,  many 
of  them  so  good,  so  true,  so  noble  !  how  often  has  the  wish 
risen  in  their  hearts  that  some  one  from  among  themselves 
should  come  forward  as  the  champion  of  revealed  truth 
against  its  opponents  !  Various  persons,  Catholic  and 
Protestant,  have  asked  me  to  do  so  myself  ;  but  I  had 
several  strong  difficulties  in  the  way.  One  of  the  greatest 
is  this,  that  at  the  moment  it  is  so  difficult  to  say  precisely 
what  it  is  that  is  to  be  encountered  and  overthrown.  I  am 
far  from  denying  that  scientific  knowledge  is  really  growing, 

30  but  it  is  by  fits  and  starts  ;  hypotheses  rise  and  fall ;  it 
is  difficult  to  anticipate  which  (of  them)  will  keep  their 
ground,  and  what  the  state  of  knowledge  in  relation  to 
them  will  be  from  year  to  year.  In  this  condition  of  things, 
it  has  seemed  to  me  to  be  very  undignified  for  a  Catholic 
to  commit  himself  to  the  work  of  chasing  what  might 
turn  out  to  be  phantoms,  and  in  behalf  of  some  special 
objections,  to  be  ingenious  in  devising  a  theory,  which, 

20  Catholics  have  in  their]  a  Catholic  has  in  his 
22  their  hearts]  his  heart 

22  from  among  1864,  i86'5]  among  1864  (another  copy). 
22  themselves]  his  own  people 

APOLOGIA 


354  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

before  it  was  completed,  might  have  to  give  place  to  some 
theory  newer  still,  from  the  fact  that  those  former  objec 
tions  had  already  come  to  nought  under  the  uprising  of 
others.  It  seemed  to  be  (specially)  a  time  [of  all  others], 
in  which  Christians  had  a  call  to  be  patient,  in  which 
they  had  no  other  way  of  helping  those  who  were  alarmed, 
than  that  of  exhorting  them  to  have  a  little  faith  and 
fortitude,  and  to  "  beware,"  as  the  poet  says,  "  of  dangerous 
steps."  This  seemed  so  clear  to  me,  the  more  I  thought 
(of  the  matter),  as  to  make  me  surmise,  that,  if  I  attempted  10 
what  had  so  little  promise  in  it,  I  should  find  that  the 
highest  Catholic  authority  was  against  the  attempt,  and  that 
I  should  have  spent  my  time  and  my  thought,  in  doing 
what  either  it  would  be  imprudent  to  bring  before  the 
public  at  all,  or  what,  did  I  do  so,  would  only  complicate 
matters  further  which  were  already  complicated(,  without, 
my  interference,)  more  than  enough.  And  I  interpret 
recent  acts  of  that  authority  as  fulfilling  my  expectation ; 
I  interpret  them  as  tying  the  hands  of  a  controversialist, 
such  as  I  should  be,  and  teaching  us  that  true  wisdom,  20 
which  Moses  inculcated  on  his  people,  when  the  Egyptians 
were  pursuing  them,  "  Fear  ye  not,  stand  still ;  the  Lord 
shall  fight  for  you,  and  ye  shall  hold  your  peace."  And  so 
far  from  finding  a  difficulty  in  obeying  in  this  case,  I  have 
cause  to  be  thankful  and  to  rejoice  to  have  so  clear  a  direc 
tion  in  a  matter  of  difficulty. 

But  if  we  would  ascertain  with  correctness  the  real 
course  of  a  principle,  we  must  look  at  it  at  a  certain  dis 
tance,  and  as  history  represents  it  to  us.  Nothing  carried 
on  by  human  instruments,  but  has  its  irregularities,  and  so 
affords  ground  for  criticism,  when  minutely  scrutinized  in 
matters  of  detail.  I  have  been  speaking  of  that  aspect  of 
the  action  of  an  infallible  authority,  which  is  most  open 
to  invidious  criticism  from  those  who  view  it  from  without ; 
I  have  tried  to  be  fair,  in  estimating  what  can  be  said  to 
its  disadvantage,  as  witnessed  (at  a  particular  time)  in  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  now  I  wish  its  adversaries  to  be 
equally  fair  in  their  judgment  upon  its  historical  character. 

9  the  more  I  thought  1864, 1865]  as  I  thought  more  1864  (another  copy) 
12  authority]  Authority 

10  further  1864,  1865]  more  1SG4  (another  copy}. 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  355 

Can,  then,  the  infallible  authority,  with  any  show  of  reason, 
be  said  in  fact  to  have  destroyed  the  energy  of  the  (Catholic) 
intellect  [in  the  Catholic  Church]  ?  Let  it  be  observed, 
I  have  not  (here)  to  speak  of  any  conflict  which  ecclesiastical 
authority  has  had  with  science,  for  (this  simple  reason,  that 
conflict)  there  has  been  none  [such],  (and  that,)  because 
the  secular  sciences,  as  they  now  exist,  are  a  novelty  in 
the  world,  and  there  has  been  no  time  yet  for  a  history 
of  relations  between  theology  and  these  new  methods  of 

10  knowledge,  and  indeed  the  Church  may  be  said  to  have 
kept  clear  of  them,  as  is  proved  by  the  constantly  cited 
case  of  Galileo.  Here  "  exceptio  probat  regulam  :  "  for 
it  is  the  one  stock  argument.  Again,  I  have  not  to  speak 
of  any  relations  of  the  Church  to  the  new  sciences,  because 
my  simple  question  (all  along)  is  whether  the  assumption 
of  infallibility  by  the  proper  authority  is  adapted  to  make 
me  a  hypocrite,  and  till  that  authority  passes  decrees  oil 
pure  physical  subjects  and  calls  on  me  to  subscribe  them, 
(which  it  never  will  do,  because  it  has  not  the  power,)  it 

20  has  no  tendency  [by  its  acts]  to  interfere  (by  any  of  its 
acts)  with  my  private  judgment  on  those  points.  The 
simple  question  is  whether  authority  has  so  acted  upon 
the  reason  of  individuals,  that  they  can  have  no  opinion  of 
their  own,  and  have  but  an  alternative  of  slavish  super 
stition  or  secret  rebellion  of  heart ;  and  I  think  the  whole 
history  of  theology  puts  an  absolute  negative  upon  such 
a  supposition.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  argue  out  so 
plain  a  point.  It  is  individuals,  and  not  the  Holy  See, 
who  have  taken  the  initiative,  and  given  the  lead  to  (the) 

so  Catholic  mindfs],  in  theological  inquiry.  Indeed,  it  is  one 
of  the  reproaches  urged  against  the  Church  of  Rome,  that 
it  has  originated  nothing,  and  has  only  served  as  a  sort 
of  remora  or  break  in  the  development  of  doctrine.  And 
it  is  an  objection[,]  which  I  (really)  embrace  as  a  truth ; 
for  such  I  conceive  to  be  the  main  purpose  of  its  extra 
ordinary  gift.  It  is  said,  and  truly,  that  the  Church  of 
Rome  possessed'  no  great  mind  in  the  whole  period  of 

15  is  whether]  has  been  whether 

27  It  is  hardly  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1865. 

29  who  have  1864]  which  has  1864  (another  copy),  that  have  1865. 

31  Church  of  Rome]  Roman  Church 


356  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

persecution.  Afterwards  for  a  long  while,  it  has  not  a 
single  doctor  to  show  ;  St.  Leo,  its  first,  is  the  teacher  of 
one  point  of  doctrine  ;  St.  Gregory,  who  stands  at  the  very 
extremity  of  the  first  age  of  the  Church,  has  no  place  in 
dogma  or  philosophy.  The  great  luminary  of  the  western 
world  is,  as  we  know,  St.  Augustine  ;  he,  no  infallible 
teacher,  has  formed  the  intellect  of  (Christian)  Europe  ; 
indeed  to  the  African  Church  generally  we  must  look 
for  the  best  early  exposition  of  Latin  ideas.  (Moreover, 
of  the  African  divines,  the  first  in  order  of  time,  and  not  10 
the  least  influential,  is  the  strong-minded  and  heterodox 
Tertullian.  Nor  is  the  Eastern  intellect,  as  such,  without 
its  share  in  the  formation  of  the  Latin  teaching.  The  free 
thought  of  Origen  is  visible  in  the  writings  of  the  Western 
Doctors,  Hilary  and  Ambrose  ;  and  the  independent  mind 
of  Jerome  has  enriched  his  own  vigorous  commentaries  on 
Scripture,  from  the  stores  of  the  scarcely  orthodox  Eusebius. 
Heretical  questionings  have  been  transmuted  by  the  living 
power  of  the  Church  into  salutary  truths.)  The  case  is 
the  same  as  regards  the  Ecumenical  Councils.  Authority  20 
in  its  most  imposing  exhibition,  grave  bishops,  laden  with 
the  traditions  and  rivalries  of  particular  nations  or  places, 
have  been  guided  in  their  decisions  by  the  commanding 
genius  of  individuals,  sometimes  young  and  of  inferior 
rank.  Not  that  uninspired  intellect  overruled  the  super 
human  gift  which  was  committed  to  the  Council,  which 
would  be  a  self -contradictory  assertion,  but  that  in  that 
process  of  inquiry  and  deliberation,  which  ended  in  an 
infallible  enunciation,  individual  reason  was  paramount. 
Thus  (Malchion,  a  mere  presbyter,  was  the  instrument  of  30 
the  great  Council  of  Antioch  in  the  third  century  in  meet 
ing  and  refuting,  for  the  assembled  Fathers,  the  heretical 
Patriarch  of  that  see.  Parallel  .  .  .  against  the  Greeks.) 
(At  Trent,)  the  writings  of  St.  Bonaventura,  and,  what  is 
more  to  the  point,  the  address  of  a  Priest  and  theologian, 
Salmeron,  [at  Trent,]  had  a  critical  effect  on  some  of  the 
definitions  of  dogmafs].  Parallel  to  this  (instance)  is  the 
influence,  so  well  known,  of  a  young  deacon,  St.  Athanasius, 

33  (Parallel  .  .  .  against  the  Greeks.)  In  1864  this  passage  had  leen 
placed  later  in  the  paragraph,  to  follow  the  remark  on  St.  Bonaventura 
and  Salmeron. 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  !  357 

with  the  318  Fathers  at  Nicsea.-  In  like  manner  we  hear  of 
[the  influence  of]  St.  Anselm  at  Bari,  (as  the  champion  of 
the  Council  there  held,  against  the  Greeks)  [and  St.  Thomas 
at  Lyons].  In  the  latter  cases  the  influence  might  ^be 
partly  moral,  but  in  the  former  it  was  that  of  a  discursive 
knowledge  of  ecclesiastical  writers,  a  scientific  acquaintance 
with  theology,  and  a  force  of  thought  in  the  treatment  of 
doctrine. 

There  are  of  course  intellectual  habits  which  theology 

10  does  not  tend  to  form,  as  for  instance  the  experimental, 
and  again  the  philosophical ;  but  that  is  because  it  is 
theology,  not  because  of  the  gift  of  infallibility.  But,  as 
far  as  this  goes,  I  think  it  could  be  shown  that  physical 
science  on  the  other  hand,  or  (again)  mathematical,  affords 
but  an  imperfect  training  for  the  intellect.  I  do  not  see 
then  how  any  objection  about  the  narrowness  of  theology 
comes  into  our  question,  which  simply  is,  whether  the 
belief  in  an  Infallible  authority  destroys  the  independence 
of  the  mind  ;  and  I  consider  that  the  whole  history  of 

20  the  Church,  and  especially  the  history  of  the  theological 
schools,  gives  a  negative  to  the  accusation.  There  never 
was  a  time  when  the  intellect  of  the  educated  class  was 
more  active,  or  rather  more  restless,  than  in  the  middle 
ages.  And  then  again  all  through  Church  history  from 
the  first,  how  slow  is  authority  in  interfering  !  Perhaps 
a  local  teacher,  or  a  doctor  in  some  local  school,  hazards 
a  proposition,  and  a  controversy  ensues.  It  smoulders  or 
burns  in  one  place,  no  one  interposing  ;  Rome  simply  lets 
it  alone.  Then  it  comes  before  a  Bishop  ;  or  some  priest, 

so  or  some  professor  in  some  other  seat  of  learning  takes  it  up  ; 
and  then  there  is  a  second  stage  of  it.  Then  it  comes  before 
a  University,  and  it  may  be  condemned  by  the  theological 
faculty.  So  the  controversy  proceeds  year  after  year,  and 
Rome  is  still  silent.  An  appeal  perhaps  is  next  made  to 
a  seat  of  authority  inferior  to  Rome  ;  and  then  at  last 
after  a  long  while  it  comes  before  the  supreme  power. 
Meanwhile,  the  question  has  been  ventilated  and  turned 
over  and  over  again,  and  viewed  on  every  side  of  it,  and 

1  like  manner  we  hear]  mediaeval  times  we  read 
4  the  latter]  some  of  these  5  the  former]  others 

18  Infallible]  infallible 


358  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KTNGSLEY. 

authority  is  called  upon  to  pronounce  a  decision,  which  has 
already  been  arrived  at  by  reason.  But  even  then,  perhaps 
the  supreme  authority  hesitates  to  do  so,  and  nothing  is 
determined  on  the  point  for  years  ;  or  so  generally  and 
vaguely,  that  the  whole  controversy  has  to  be  gone  through 
again,  before  it  is  ultimately  determined.  It  is  manifest 
how  a  mode  of  proceeding,  such  as  this,  tends  not  only  to 
the  liberty,  but  to  the  courage,  of  the  individual  theologian 
or  controversialist.  Many  a  man  has  ideas,  which  he  hopes 
are  true,  and  useful  for  his  day,  but  he  (is  not  confident  10 
about  them,  and)  wishes  to  have  them  discussed.  He  is 
willing  or  rather  would  be  thankful  to  give  them  up,  if 
they  can  be  proved  to  be  erroneous  or  dangerous,  and  by 
means  of  controversy  he  obtains  his  end.  He  is  answered, 
and  he  yields  ;  or  (on  the  contrary)  he  finds  that  he  is 
considered  safe.  He  would  not  dare  to  do  this,  if  he  knew 
an  authority,  which  was  supreme  and  final,  was  watching 
every  word  he  said,  and  made  signs  of  assent  or  dissent 
to  each  sentence,  as  he  uttered  it.  Then  indeed  he  would 
be  fighting,  as  the  Persian  soldiers,  under  the  lash,  and  the  20 
freedom  of  his  intellect  might  truly  be  said  to  be  beaten 
out  of  him.  But  this  has  not  been  so  : — I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that,  when  controversies  run  high,  in  schools  or  even 
in  small  portions  of  the  Church,  an  interposition  may  not 
rightly  take  place  ;  and  again,  questions  may  be  of  that- 
urgent  nature,  that  an  appeal  must,  as  a  ma-tter  of  duty, 
be  made  at  once  to  the  highest  authority  in  the  Church  ; 
but,  if  we  look  into  the  history  of  controversy,  we  shall 
find,  I  think,  the  general  run  of  things  to  be  such  as  I  have 
represented  it.  Zosimus  treated  Pelagius  and  Ccelestius  so 
with  extreme  forbearance  ;  St.  Gregory  VII.  was  equally 
indulgent  with  Berengarius  ;(  —  }by  reason  of  the  very 
power  of  the  Popes  they  have  commonly  been  slow  and 
moderate  in  their  use  of  it. 

And  here  again  is  a  further  shelter  for  (the  legitimate 
exercise  of)  the  [individual]  reason  : — the  multitude  of 
nations  who  are  in  the  fold  of  the  Church  will  be  found 
to  have  acted  for  its  protection,  against  any  narrowness, 
if  so,  in  the  various  authorities  at  Rome,  with  whom  lies 

25  rightly]  advisably  37  who  are  in]  which  are  within 

39  if  so]  on  the  supposition  of  narrowness 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  359 

the  practical  decision  of  controverted  questions.  How 
have  the  Greek  traditions  been  respected  and  provided  for 
in  the  later  Ecumenical  Councils,  in  spite  of  the  countries 
that  held  them  being  in  a  state  of  schism  !  There  are 
important  points  of  doctrine  which  have  been  (humanly 
speaking)  exempted  from  the  infallible  sentence,  by  the 
tenderness  with  which  its  instruments,  in  framing  it,  have 
treated  the  opinions  of  particular  places.  Then,  again, 
such  national  influences  have  a  providential  effect  in 

10  moderating  the  bias  which  the  local  influences  of  Italy 
may  exert  upon  the  See  of  St.  Peter.  It  stands  to  reason 
that,  as  the  Gallican  Church  has  in  it  an  element  of  France, 
so  Rome  must  have  (in  it)  an  element  of  Italy  ;  and  it 
is  no  prejudice  to  the  zeal  and  devotion  with  which  we 
submit  ourselves  to  the  Holy  See  to  admit  this  plainly. 
It  seems  to  me,  as  I  have  been  saying,  that  Catholicity  is 
not  only  one  of  the  notes  of  the  Church,  but,  according 
to  the  divine  purposes,  one  of  its  securities.  I  think  it 
would  be  a  very  serious  evil,  which  Divine  Mercy  avert  ! 

20  that  the  Church  should  be  contracted  in  Europe  within 
the  range  of  particular  nationalities.  It  is  a  great  idea  to 
introduce  Latin  civilization  into  America,  and  to  improve 
the  Catholics  there  by  the  energy  of  French  Religion  ; 
but  I  trust  that  all  European  races  will  have  ever 
a  place  in  the  Church,  and  assuredly  I  think  that  the  loss 
of  the  English,  not  to  say  the  German  element,  in  its 
composition  has  been  a  most  serious  evil.  And  certainly, 
if  there  is  one  consideration  more  than  another  which 
should  make  us  English  grateful  to  Pius  the  Ninth,  it  is 

so  that,  by  giving  us  a  Church  of  our  own,  he  has  prepared 
the  way  for  our  own  habits  of  mind,  our  own  manner  of 
reasoning,  our  own  tastes,  and  our  own  virtues,  finding 
a  place  and  thereby  a  sanctification,  in  the  Catholic  Church. 

There  is  only  one  other  subject,  which  I  think  it  neces 
sary  to  introduce  here,  as  bearing  upon  the  vague  suspicions 
which  are  attached  in  this  country  to  the  Catholic  Priest 
hood.  It  is  one  of  which  my  accuser  says  much,( — )the 

12  an  element  of  France]  a  French  element 

23  Religion]  devotedness  24  have  ever]  ever  have 

27  evil]  misfortune 

37  my  accuser  says]  my  accusers  have  before  now  said 


360  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

charge  of  reserve  and  economy.  He  founds  it  in  no  slight 
degree  on  what  I  have  said  on  the  subject  in  my  History 
of  the  Arians,  and  in  a  note  upon  one  of  my  Sermons  in 
which  I  refer  to  it.  The  principle  of  Reserve  is  also  advo 
cated  by  an  admirable  writer  in  two  numbers  of  the  Tracts 
for  the  Times(,  and  of  these  I  was  the  Editor). 

Now,  as  to  the  Economy  itself (3),  [I  leave  the  greater 
part  of  what  I  have  to  say  to  an  Appendix.  Here  I  will 
but  say  that]  it  is  founded  upon  the  words  of  our  Lord, 
"  Cast  not  your  pearls  before  swine  ;  "  and  it  was  observed  10 
by  the  early  Christians  more  or  less  in  their  intercourse 
with  the  heathen  populations  among  whom  they  lived.  In 
the  midst  of  the  abominable  idolatries  and  impurities  of 
that  fearful  time,  they  could  not  do  otherwise.  But  the 
rule  [of  the  Economy],  at  least  as  I  have  explained  and 
recommended  it,  (in  anything  that  I  have  written,)  did 
not  go  beyond  (1)  the  concealing  the  truth  when  we  could 
do  so  without  deceit,  (2)  stating  it  only  partially,  and 
(3)  representing  it  under  the  nearest  form  possible  to 
a  learner  or  inquirer,  when  he  could  not  possibly  under-  20 
stand  it  exactly.  I  conceive  that  to  draw  angels  with 
wings  is  an  instance  of  the  third  of  these  economical  modes  ; 
and  to  avoid  the  question,  "  Do  Christians  believe  in  a 
Trinity  ?  "  by  answering,  "  They  believe  in  only  one  God," 
would  be  an  instance  of  the  second.  As  to  the  first,  it  is 
hardly  an  Economy,  but  comes  under  what  is  called  the 
"  Disciplina  Arcani."  The  second  and  third  economical 
modes  Clement  calls  lying  ;  meaning  that  a  partial  truth 
is  in  some  sense  a  lie,  and  so  also  is  a  representative  truth. 
And  this,  I  think,  is  about  the  long  and  the  short  of  the  so 
ground  of  the  accusation  which  has  been  so  violently  urged 
against  me,  as  being  a  patron  of  the  Economy. 

Of  late  years  I  have  come  to  think,  as  I  believe  most 
writers  do,  that  Clement  meant  more  than  I  have  said. 
I  used  to  think  he  used  the  word  "  lie  "  as  an  hyperbole, 
but  I  now  believe  that  he,  as  other  early  Fathers,  thought 

1  He  founds]  They  found 

7  Footnote  in  1865.     (3  Vide  Note  F,  The  Economy.) 
14  they  could  not  do  otherwise]  the  Rule  of  the  Economy  was  an 
imperative  duty  14-15  the  rule]  that  rule 

21  angels]  Angels  29  and  so  also  is]  as  is  also 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  361 

that,  under  certain  circumstances,  it  was  lawful  to  tell 
a  lie.  This  doctrine  I  never  maintained,  though  I  used 
to  think,  as  I  do  now,  that  the  theory  of  the  subject  is 
surrounded  with  considerable  difficulty  ;  and  it  is  not 
strange  that  I  should  say  so,  considering  that  great  English 
writers  [simply]  declare  (without  hesitation)  that  in  certain 
extreme  cases,  as  to  save  life,  honour,  or  even  property, 
a  lie  is  allowable.  And  thus  I  am  brought  to  the  direct 
question  of  truth,  and  (of)  the  truthfulness  of  Catholic 
10  priests  generally  in  their  dealings  with  the  world,  as  bearing 
on  the  general  question  of  their  honesty,  and  (of)  their 
internal  belief  in  their  religious  professions. 

It  would  answer  no  purpose,  and  it  would  be  departing 
from  the  line  of  writing  which  I  have  been  observing  all 
along,  if  I  entered  into  any  formal  discussion  on  the 
subject ;  what  I  shall  do  here,  as  I  have  done  in  the  fore 
going  pages,  is  to  give  my  own  testimony  on  the  matter 
in  question,  and  there  to  leave  it.  Now  first  I  will  say, 
that,  when  I  became  a  Catholic,  nothing  struck  me  more 

20  at  once  than  the  English  out-spoken  manner  of  the  Priests. 
It  was  the  same  at  Oscott,  at  Old  Hall  Green,  at  Ushaw  ; 
there  was  nothing  of  that  smoothness,  or  mannerism,  which 
is  commonly  imputed  to  them,  and  they  were  more  natural 
and  unaffected  than  many  an  Anglican  clergyman.  The 
many  years,  which  have  passed  since,  have  only  confirmed 
my  first  impression.  I  have  ever  found  it  in  the  priests 
of  this  Diocese  ;  did  I  wish  to  point  out  a  straightforward 
Englishman,  I  should  instance  the  Bishop,  who  has,  to 
our  great  benefit,  for  so  many  years  presided  over  it. 

30  And  next,  I  was  struck,  when  I  had  more  opportunity 
of  judging  of  the  Priests,  by  the  simple  faith  in  the  Catholic 
Creed  and  system  of  which  they  always  gave  evidence,  and 
which  they  never  seemed  to  feel,  in  any  sense  at  all,  to  be 
a  burden.  And  now  that  I  have  been  in  the  Church  nine 
teen  years,  I  cannot  recollect  hearing  of  a  single  instance 
in  England  of  an  infidel  priest.  Of  course  there  are  men 
from  time  to  time,  who  leave  the  Catholic  Church  for 
another  religion,  but  I  am  speaking  of  cases,  when  a  man 

15-16  the  subject]  this  question 


362  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

keeps  a  fair  outside  to  the  world  and  is  a  hollow  hypocrite 
in  his  heart. 

I  wonder  that  the  self-devotion  of  our  priests  does  not 
strike  Protestants  in  this  point  of  view.  What  do  they 
gain  by  professing  a  Creed,  in  which,  if  my  assailant  is  to 
be  believed,  they  really  do  not  believe  ?  What  is  their 
reward  for  committing  themselves  to  a  life  of  self-restraint 
and  toil,  and  after  all  to  a  premature  and  miserable  death  ? 
The  Irish  fever  cut  off  between  Liverpool  and  Leeds  thirty 
priests  and  more,  young  men  in  the  flower  of  their  days,  10 
old  men  who  seemed  entitled  to  some  quiet  time  after 
their  long  toil.  There  was  a  bishop  cut  off  in  the  North  ; 
but  what  had  a  man  of  his  ecclesiastical  rank  to  do  with  the 
drudgery  and  danger  of  sick  calls,  except  that  Christian 
faith  and  charity  constrained  him  ?  Priests  volunteered 
for  the  dangerous  service.  It  was  the  same  (with  them) 
on  the  first  coming  of  the  cholera,  that  mysterious  awe- 
inspiring  infliction.  If  priests  did  not  heartily  believe  in 
the  Creed  of  the  Church,  then  I  will  say  that  the  remark 
of  the  Apostle  had  its  fullest  illustration  : — '  If  in  this  life  20 
only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all  men  most 
miserable."  What  could  support  a  set  of  hypocrites  in 
the  presence  of  a  deadly  disorder,  one  of  them  following 
another  in  long  order  up  the  forlorn  hope,  and  one  after 
another  perishing  ?  And  such,  I  may  say,  in  its  substance, 
is  every  Mission-Priest's  life.  He  is  ever  ready  to  sacrifice 
himself  for  his  people.  Night  and  day,  sick  or  well  him 
self,  in  all  weathers,  off  he  is,  on  the  news  of  a  sick  call. 
The  fact  of  a  parishioner  dying  without  the  Sacraments 
through  his  fault  is  terrible  to  him  ;  why  terrible,  if  he  30 
has  not  a  deep  absolute  faith,  which  he  acts  upon  with 
a  free  service  ?  Protestants  admire  this,  when  they  see 
it ;  but  they  do  not  seem  to  see  as  clearly,  that  it  excludes 
the  very  notion  of  hypocrisy. 

Sometimes,  when  they  reflect  upon  it,  it  leads  them  to 
remark  on  the  wonderful  discipline  of  the  Catholic  priest 
hood  ;  they  say  that  no  Church  has  so  well  ordered  a  clergy, 
and  that  in  that  respect  it  surpasses  their  own  ;  they  wish 
they  could  have  such  exact  discipline  among  themselves. 

5-6  my  assailant  is  ...  believed]  their  enemies  are  ...  credited 
8  after  all]  perhaps  18  priests]  they 


(POSITION  OF  MY  xMIND  SINCE  1845.)  363 

But  is  it  an  excellence  which  can  be  purchased  ?  is  it 
a  phenomenon  which  depends  on  nothing  else  than  itself, 
or  is  it  an  effect  which  has  a  cause  ?  You  cannot  buy 
devotion  at  a  price.  "  It  hath  never  been  heard  of  in  the 
land  of  Chanaan,  neither  hath  it  been  seen  in  Theman. 
The  children  of  Agar,  the  merchants  of  Meran,  none  of 
these  have  known  its  way."  What  then  is  that  wonderful 
charm,  which  makes  a  thousand  men  act  all  in  one  way, 
and  infuses  a  prompt  obedience  to  rule,  as  if  they  were 
10  under  some  stern  military  compulsion  ?  How  difficult  to 
find  an  answer,  unless  you  will  allow  the  obvious  one,  that 
they  believe  intensely  what  they  profess  ! 

I  cannot  think  what  it  can  be,  in  a  day  like  this,  which 
keeps  up  the  prejudice  of  this  Protestant  country  against 
us,  unless  it  be  the  vague  charges  which  are  drawn  from 
our  books  of  Moral  Theology  ;  and  with  a  (short)  notice 
of  the  work  in  particular  which  my  accuser  especially 
throws  in(to)  our  teeth,  I  shall  [in  a  very  few  words]  bring 
these  observations  to  a  close. 

20  St.  Alfonso  Liguori,  (then,)  it  cannot  be  denied,  lays 
down  that  an  equivocation,  that  is,  a  play  upon  words, 
in  which  one  sense  is  taken  by  the  speaker,  and  another 
sense  intended  by  him  for  the  hearer,  is  allowable,  if  there 
is  a  just  cause,  that  is,  in  a  special  case,  and  may  even  be 
confirmed  by  an  oath.  I  shall  give  my  opinion  on  this 
point  as  plainly  as  any  Protestant  can  wish  ;  and  therefore 
I  avow  at  once  that  in  this  department  of  morality,  much 
as  I  admire  the  high  points  of  the  Italian  character,  I  like 
the  English  character  better  ;  but,  in  saying  so,  I  am  not, 

so  as  will  (shortly)  be  seen,  saying  any  thing  disrespectful  to 
St.  Alfonso,  who  was  a  lover  of  truth,  and  whose  inter 
cession  I  trust  I  shall  not  lose,  though,  on  the  matter 
under  consideration,  I  follow  other  guidance  in  preference 
to  his. 
Now  I  make  this  remark  first : — great  English  authors, 

17-18  my  accuser  .  .  .  throws]  by  our  accusers  is  ...  thrown 

21-3  that  is  ...  hearer,]  (that  is  ...  hearer,) 

24  a  special  1864]  an  extreme  1864  (another  copy},  an  extraordinary  1865 

29  English  character]  English  rule  of  conduct 


364  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

Jeremy  Taylor,  Milton,  Paley,  Johnson,  men  of  very  dis 
tinct  schools  of  thought,  distinctly  say,  that  under  certain 
special  circumstances  it  is  allowable  to  tell  a  lie.  Taylor 
says  :  "To  tell  a  lie  for  charity,  to  save  a  man's  life,  the 
life  of  a  friend,  of  a  husband,  of  a  prince,  of  a  useful  and 
a  public  person,  hath  not  only  been  done  at  all  times,  but 
commended  by  great  and  wise  and  good  men.  Who  would 
not  save  his  father's  life,  at  the  charge  of  a  harmless 
lie,  from  persecutors  or  tyrants  ?  "  Again,  Milton  says  : 
"  What  man  in  his  senses  would  deny,  that  there  are  those  10 
whom  we  have  the  best  grounds  for  considering  that  we 
ought  to  deceive, — as  boys,  madmen,  the  sick,  the  intoxi 
cated,  enemies,  men  in  error,  thieves  ?  I  would  ask,  by 
which  of  the  commandments  is  a  lie  forbidden  ?  You  will 
say,  by  the  ninth.  If  then  my  lie  does  not  injure  my 
neighbour,  certainly  it  is  not  forbidden  by  this  command 
ment."  Paley  says  :  "  There  are  falsehoods,  which  are 
not  lies,  that  is,  which  are  not  criminal."  Johnson  :  "  The 
general  rule  is,  that  truth  should  never  be  violated  ;  there 
must,  however,  be  some  exceptions.  If,  for  instance,  20 
a  murderer  should  ask  you  which  way  a  man  is  gone." 

Now,  I  am  not  using  these  instances  as  an  argumentum 
ad  hominem ;  but  [this  is]  the  use  to  which  I  put  them 
(is  this)  : — 

1.  First,  I  have  set  down  the  distinct  statements  ot 
Taylor,  Milton,  Paley,  and  Johnson  ;  now,  would  any  one 
give  ever  so  little  weight  to  these  statements,  in  forming 
a  real  estimate  of  the  veracity  of  the  writers,  if  they  now 
were  alive  ?  Were  a  man,  who  is  so  fierce  with  St.  Alfonso, 
to  meet  Paley  or  Johnson  to-morrow  in  society,  would  he  so 
look  upon  him  as  a  liar,  a  knave,  as  dishonest  and  untrust 
worthy  1  I  am  sure  he  would  not.  Why  then  does  he 
not  deal  out  the  same  measure  to  Catholic  priests  ?  ^  If 
a  copy  of  Scavini,  which  speaks  of  equivocation  as  being 
in  a  just  cause  allowable,  be  found  in  a  student's  room 
at  Oscott,  not  Scavini  himself,  but  (even)  the  unhappy 
student,  who  has  what  a  Protestant  calls  a  bad  book  in 
his  possession,  is  judged  (to  be)  for  life  unworthy  of  credit. 

1-2  distinct]  different 

3  special  1864}  extreme  1864  (another  copy),  extraordinary  1865. 

23  use]  purpose 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  [SINCE  1845.)  365 

Are  all  Protestant  text-books(,  which  are  used)  at  the 
University^)  immaculate  ?  Is  it  necessary  to  take  for 
gospel  every  word  of  Aristotle's  Ethics,  or  every  assertion 
of  Hey  or  Burnett  on  the  Articles  ?  Are  text-books  the 
ultimate  authority,  or  (rather)  are  they  (not)  manuals  in 
the  hands  of  a  lecturer,  and  the  groundwork  of  his  remarks  ? 
But,  again,  let  us  suppose,  not  the  case  of  a  student,  or 
of  a  professor,  but  of  Scavini  himself,  or  of  St.  Alfonso  ; 
now  here  again  I  ask,  if  you  would  not  scruple  in  holding 

10  Paley  for  an  honest  man,  in  spite  of  his  defence  of  lying, 
why  do  you  scruple  at  (holding)  St.  Alfonso  (honest)  ? 
I  am  perfectly  sure  that  you  would  not  scruple  at  Paley 
personally  ;  you  might  not  agree  with  him,  but  you  would 
(not  go  further  than  to)  call  him  a  bold  thinker  :  then  why 
should  St.  Alfonso's  person  be  odious  to  you,  as  well  as 
his  doctrine  ? 

Now  I  wish  to  tell  you  why  you  are  not  afraid  of  Paley  ; 
because,  you  would  say,  when  he  advocated  lying,  he  was 
taking  special  cases.  You  would  have  no  fear  of  a  man 

20  who  you  knew  had  shot  a  burglar  dead  in  his  own  house, 
because  you  know  you  are  not  a  burglar  :  so  you  would 
not  think  that  Paley  had  a  habit  of  telling  lies  in  society, 
because  in  the  case  of  a  cruel  alternative  he  thought  it 
the  lesser  evil  to  tell  a  lie.  Then  why  do  you  show  such 
suspicion  of  a  Catholic  theologian,  who  speaks  of  certain 
special  cases  in  which  an  equivocation  in  a  penitent  cannot 
be  visited  by  his  confessor  as  if  it  were  a  sin  ?  for  this  is 
the  exact  point  of  the  question. 

But  again,  why  does  Paley,  why  does  Jeremy  Taylor, 

30  when  no  practical  matter  is  (actually)  before  him,  lay 
down  a  maxim  about  the  lawfulness  of  lying,  which  will 
startle  most  readers  ?  The  reason  is  plain.  He  is  forming 
a  theory  of  morals,  and  he  must  treat  every  question  in 
turn  as  it  comes.  And  this  is  just  what  St.  Alfonso  or 
Scavini  is  doing.  You  only  try  your  hand  yourself  at 
a  treatise  on  the  rules  of  morality,  and  you  will  see  how 
difficult  the  work  is.  What  is  the" definition  of  a  lie  ?  Can 
you  give  a  better  than  that  it  is  a  sin  against  justice,  as 

9  if]  since 

19  special  1864]  extreme  1804  (another  copy),  extreme  or  special  1865. 

26  special  1864]  extreme  18G4  (another  copy),  extraordinary  18V5. 


366  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

Taylor  and  Paley  consider  it  ?  but,  if  so,  how  can  it  be 
a  sin  at  all,  if  your  neighbour  is  not  injured  ?  If  you  do 
not  like  this  definition,  take  another  ;  and  then,  by  means 
of  that,  perhaps  you  will  be  defending  St.  Alfonso's  equi 
vocation.  However,  this  is  what  I  insist  upon  ;  that 
St.  Alfonso,  as  Paley,  is  considering  the  different  portions 
of  a  large  subject,  and  he  must,  on  the  subject  of  lying, 
give  his  judgment,  though  on  that  subject  it  is  difficult 
to  form  any  judgment  which  is  satisfactory. 

But  further  still :  you  must  not  suppose  that  a  philo- 10 
sopher  or  moralist  uses  in  his  own  case  the  licence  which 
his  theory  itself  would  allow  him.  A  man  in  his  own 
person  is  guided  by  his  own  conscience  ;  but  in  drawing 
out  a  system  of  rules  he  is  obliged  to  go  by  logic,  and  follow 
the  exact  deduction  of  conclusion  from  conclusion,  and 
(must)  be  sure  that  the  whole  system  is  coherent  and  one. 
You  hear  of  even  immoral  or  irreligious  books  being  written 
by  men  of  decent  character  ;  there  is  a  late  writer  who 
says  that  David  Hume's  sceptical  works  are  not  at  all  the 
picture  of  the  man.  A  priest  may  write  a  treatise  which  20 
would  be  called  really  lax  on  the  subject  of  lying,  which 
might  come  under  the  condemnation  of  the  Holy  See, 
as  some  treatises  on  that  score  have  (already)  been  con 
demned,  and  yet  in  his  own  person  be  a  rigorist.  And,  in 
fact,  it  is  notorious  from  St.  Alfonso's  Life,  that  he,  who 
has  the  repute  of  being  so  lax  a  moralist,  had  one  of  the 
most  scrupulous  and  anxious  of  consciences  himself.  Nay, 
further  than  this,  he  was  originally  in  the  Law,  and  on 
one  occasion  he  was  betrayed  into  the  commission  of  what 
seemed  like  a  deceit,  though  it  was  an  accident ;  and  that  so 
was  the  very  occasion  of  his  leaving  the  profession  and 
embracing  the  religious  life. 

The  account  of  this  remarkable  occurrence  is  told  us  in 
his  Life  : — 

"  Notwithstanding  he  had  carefully  examined  over  and 
over  the  details  of  the  process,  he  was  completely  mistaken 
regarding  the  sense  of  one  document,  which  constituted 
the  right  of  the  adverse  party.  The  advocate  of  the  Grand 
Duke  perceived  the  mistake,  but  he  allowed  Alfonso  to 

20  may]  might  21  would  be  called]  was 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  367 

continue  his  eloquent  address  to  the  end  without  inter 
ruption  ;  as  soon,  however,  as  he  had  finished,  he  rose, 
and  said  with  cutting  coolness,  '  Sir,  the  case  is  not  exactly 
what  you  suppose  it  to  be  ;  if  you  will  review  the  pro 
cess,  and  examine  this  paper  attentively,  you  will  find 
there  precisely  the  contrary  of  all  you  have  advanced.' 
'  Willingly,'  replied  Alfonso,  without  hesitating  ;  '  the 
decision  depends  on  this  question — whether  the  fief  were 
granted  under  the  law  of  Lombardy,  or  uiwder  the  French 

10  Law.'  The  paper  being  examined,"  it  was  found  that  the 
Grand  Duke's  advocate  was  in  the  right.  '  Yes,'  said 
Alfonso,  holding  the  paper  in  his  hand,  '  I  am  wrong, 
I  have  been  mistaken.'  A  discovery  so  unexpected,  and 
the  fear  of  being  accused  of  unfair  dealing,  filled  him  with 
consternation,  and  covered  him  with  confusion,  so  much 
so,  that  every  one  saw  his  emotion.  It  was  in  vain  that 
the  President  Caravita,  who  loved  him,  and  knew  his 
integrity,  tried  to  console  him,  by  telling  him  that  such 
mistakes  were  not  uncommon,  even  among  the  first  men 

20  at  the  bar.  Alfonso  would  listen  to  nothing,  but,  over 
whelmed  with  confusion,  his  head  sunk  on  his  breast,  he 
said  to  himself,  '  World,  I  know  you  now  ;  courts  of  law, 
never  shall  you  see  me  again  !  '  And  turning  his  back  on 
the  assembly,  he  withdrew  to  his  own  house,  incessantly 
repeating  to  himself,  '  World,  I  know  you  now.'  What 
annoyed  him  most  was,  that  having  studied  and  re-studied 
the  process  during  a  whole  month,  without  having  dis 
covered  this  important  flaw,  he  could  not  understand  how 
it  had  escaped  his  observation." 

so  And  this  is  the  man(,  so  easily  scared  at  the  very  shadow 
of  trickery,}  who  is  so  flippantly  pronounced  to  be  a  patron 
of  lying. 

But,  in  truth,  a  Catholic  theologian  has  objects  in  view 
which  men  in  general  little  compass  ;  he  is  not  thinking 
of  himself,  but  of  a  multitude  of  souls,  sick  souls,  sinful 
souls,  carried  away  by  sin,  full  of  evil,  and  he  is  trying 
with  all  his  might  to  rescue  them  from  their  miserable 
state  ;  and,  in  order  to  save  them  from  more  heinous  sins, 
he  tries,  to  the  full  extent  that  his  conscience  will  allow 

40  him  to  go,  to  shut  his  eyes  to  such  sins,  as  are,  though 
sins,  yet  lighter  in  character  or  degree.  He  knows  perfectly 


368  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

well  that,  if  he  is  as  strict  as  he  would  wish  to  be,  he  shall 
be  able  to  do  nothing  at  all  with  the  run  of  men ;  so  he 
is  as  indulgent  with  them  as  ever  he  can  be.  Let  it  not 
be  for  an  instant  supposed,  that  I  allow  of  the  maxim  of 
doing  evil  that  good  may  come  ;  but,  keeping  clear  of  this, 
there  is  a  way  of  winning  men  from  greater  sins  by  winking 
for  the  time  at  the  less,  or  at  mere  improprieties  or  faults  ; 
and  this  is  the  key  to  the  difficulty  which  Catholic  books 
of  moral  theology  so  often  cause  to  the  Protestant.  They 
are  intended  for  the  Confessor,  and  Protestants  view  them  10 
as  intended  for  the  Preacher. 

2.  And  I  observe  upon  Taylor,  Milton,  and  Paley  thus  : 
What  would  a  Protestant  clergyman  say  to  me,  if  ^accused 
him  of  teaching  that  a  lie  was  allowable  ;  and  if,  when 
he  asked  for  my  proof,  I  said  in  reply  that  (such  was  the 
doctrine  of)  Taylor  and  Milton  [so  taught]  ?  Why,  he 
would  sharply  retort,  "I  am  not  bound  by  Taylor  or 
Milton ;  "  and  if  I  went  on  urging  that  "  Taylor  was  one 
of  his  authorities,"  he  would  answer  that  Taylor  was 
a  great  writer,  but  great  writers  were  not  therefore  infal-  2o 
lible.  This  is  pretty  much  the  answer  which  I  make,  when 
I  am  considered  in  this  matter  a  disciple  of  St.  Alfonso. 

I  plainly  and  positively  state,  and  without  any  reserve, 
that  I  do  not  at  all  follow  this  holy  and  charitable  man  in 
this  portion  of  his  teaching.  There  are  various  schools  of 
opinion  allowed  in  the  Church :  and  on  this  point  I  follow 
others.  I  follow  Cardinal  Gerdil,  and  Natalis  Alexander, 
nay,  St.  Augustine.  I  will  quote  one  passage  from  Natalis 
Alexander  : — "  They  certainly  lie,  who  utter  the  words 
of  an  oath,  without  the  will  to  swear  or  bind  them- 30 
selves  :  or  who  make  use  of  mental  reservations  and  equi 
vocations  in  swearing,  since  they  signify  by  words  what 
they  have  not  in  mind,  contrary  to  the  end  for  which 
language  was  instituted,  viz.  as  signs  of  ideas.  Or  they 
mean  something  else  than  the  words  signify  in  themselves 
and  the  common  custom  of  speech."  And,  to  take  an 
instance  :  I  do  not  believe  any  priest  in  England  would 
dream  of  saying,  "  My  friend  is  not  here  ;  "  meaning,  "  He 
is  not  in  my  pocket  or  under  my  shoe."  Nor  should  any 
consideration  make  me  say  so  myself.  I  do  not  think  40 
St.  Alfonso  would  in  his  own  case  have  said  so  ;  and  he 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  369 

would  have  been  as  much  shocked  at  Taylor  and  Paley, 
as  Protestants  are  at  him(2). 

And  now,  if  Protestants  wish  to  know  what  our  real 
teaching  is,  as  on  other  subjects,  so  on  that  of  lying, 
let  them  look,  not  at  our  books  of  casuistry,  but  at  our 
catechisms.  Works  on  pathology  do  not  give  the  best  in 
sight  into  the  form  and  the  harmony  of  the  human  frame  ; 
and,  as  it  is  with  the  body,  so  is  it  with  the  mind. 
The  Catechism  of  the  Council  of  Trent  was  drawn  up  for 

10the  express  purpose  of  providing  preachers  with  subjects 
for  their  sermons  ;  and,  as  my  whole  work  has  been 
a  defence  of  myself,  I  may  here  say  that  I  rarely  preach 
a  Sermon,  but  I  go  to  this  beautiful  and  complete  Catechism 
to  get  both  my  matter  and  my  doctrine.  There  we  find 
the  following  notices  about  the  duty  of  veracity  : — 

"  '  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness,'  &c.  :  let  attention 
be  drawn  to  two  laws  contained  in  this  commandment : — 
the  one,  forbidding  false  witness  ;  the  other  bidding,  that 
removing  all  pretence  and  deceits,  we  should  measure  our 

20  words  and  deeds  by  simple  truth,  as  the  Apostle  admonished 
the  Ephesians  of  that  duty  in  these  words  :  '  Doing  truth 
in  charity,  let  us  grow  in  Him  through  all  things.' 

"  To  deceive  by  a  lie  in  joke  or  for  the  sake  of  compli 
ment,  though  to  no  one  there  accrues  loss  or  gain  in 
consequence,  nevertheless  is  altogether  unworthy :  for 
thus  the  Apostle  admonishes,  '  Putting  aside  lying,  speak 
ye  truth.'  For  therein  is  great  danger  of  lapsing  into 
frequent  and  more  serious  lying,  and  from  lies  in  joke  men 
gain  the  habit  of  lying,  whence  they  gain  the  character 

30  of  not  being  truthful.  And  thence  again,  in  order  to  gain 
credit  to  their  words,  they  find  it  necessary  to  make 
a  practice  of  swearing. 

"Nothing  is  more  necessary  ([for  us])  than  truth  of 
testimony,  in  those  things,  which  we  neither  know  our 
selves,  nor  can  allowably  be  ignorant  of,  on  which  point 
there  is  extant  that  maxim  of  St.  Augustine's  ;  Whoso 

2  Footnote  in  1863.     <2  Vide  Note  G,  Lying  and  Equivocation.} 

11  sermons]  Sermons  15  veracity]  Veracity 

31  credit]  credence  33  These  [  ]  are  in  the  1S65  edition. 


370  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

conceals  the  truth,  and  whoso  puts  forth  a  lie,  each  is 
guilty  ;  the  one  because  he  is  not  willing  to  do  a  service, 
the  other  because  he  has  a  wish  to  do  a  mischief. 

"It  is  lawful  at  times  to  be  silent  about  the  truth,  but 
out  of  a  court  of  law  ;  for  in  court,  when  a  witness  is 
interrogated  by  the  judge  according  to  law,  the  truth  is 
wholly  to  be  brought  out. 

"  Witnesses,  however,  must  beware,  lest,  from  over- 
confidence  in  their  memory,  they  affirm  for  certain,  what 
they  have  not  verified.  10 

"  In  order  that  the  faithful  may  with  more  good  will 
avoid  the  sin  of  lying,  the  Parish  Priest  shall  set  before 
them  the  extreme  misery  and  turpitude  of  this  wickedness. 
For,  in  holy  writ,  the  devil  is  called  the  father  of  a  lie  ; 
for,  in  that  he  did  not  remain  in  Truth,  he  is  a  liar,  and 
the  father  of  a  lie.  He  will  add,  with  the  view  of  ridding 
men  of  so  great  a  crime,  the  evils  which  follow  upon  lying ; 
and,  whereas  they  are  innumerable,  he  will  point  out  [at 
least]  the  sources  and  the  general  heads  of  these  mischiefs 
and  calamities,  viz.  1.  How  great  is  God's  displeasure  and  20 
how  great  His  hatred  of  a  man  who  is  insincere  and  a  liar. 
2.  What  (little)  security  there  is  that  a  man  who  is  specially 
hated  by  God  may  not  be  visited  by  the  heaviest  punish 
ments.  3.  What  more  unclean  and  foul,  as  St.  James  says, 
than  ....  that  a  fountain  by  the  same  jet  should  send 
out  sweet  water  and  bitter  ?  4.  For  that  tongue,  which 
just  now  praised  God,  next,  as  far  as  in  it  lies,  dishonours 
Him  by  lying.  5.  In  consequence,  liars  are  shut  out  from 
the  possession  of  heavenly  beatitude.  6.  That  too  is  the 
worst  evil  of  lying,  that  that  disease  of  the  mind  is  generally  30 
incurable. 

"  Moreover,  there  is  this  harm  too,  and  one  of  vast 
extent,  and  touching  men  generally,  that  by  insincerity 
and  lying  faith  and  truth  are  lost,  which  are  the  firmest 
bonds  of  human  society,  and,  when  they  are  lost,  supreme 
confusion  follows  in  life,  so  that  men  seem  in  nothing  to 
differ  from  devils. 

"  Lastly,  the  Parish  Priest  will  set  those  right  who 
excuse  their  insincerity  and  allege  the  example  of  wise 

18,  19  These  [  J  are  in  the  1S64  and  1865  editions. 


(POSITION  OF  MY  MIND  SINCE  1845.)  371 

men,  who,  they  say,  are  used  to  lie  for  an  occasion.  He 
will  tell  them,  what  is  most  true,  that  the  wisdom  of  the 
flesh  is  death.  He  will  exhort  his  hearers  to  trust  in  God, 
when  they  are  in  difficulties  and  straits,  nor  to  have 
recourse  to  the  expedient  of  a  lie. 

"  They  who  throw  the  blame  of  their  own  lie  on  those 
who  have  already  by  a  lie  deceived  them,  are  to  be  taught 
that  men  must  not  revenge  themselves,  nor  make  up  for 
one  evil  by  another."  .... 

10  There  is  much  more  in  the  Catechism  to  the  same  effect, 
and  it  is  of  universal  obligation  ;  whereas  the  decision  of 
a  particular  author  in  morals  need  not  be  accepted  by 
any  one. 

To  one  other  authority  I  appeal  on  this  subject,  which 
commands  from  me  attention  of  a  special  kind,  for  they 
are  the  words  of  a  Father.  They  will  serve  to  bring  my 
work  to  a  conclusion. 

"  St.  Philip,"  says  the  Roman  Oratoriaii  who  wrote  his 
Life,  "  had  a  particular  dislike  of  affectation  both  in  him- 
20  self  and  others,  in  speaking,  in  dressing,  or  in  any  thing 
else. 

"  He  avoided  all  ceremony  which  savoured  of  worldly 
compliment,  and  always  showed  himself  a  great  stickler 
for  Christian  simplicity  in  every  thing  ;  so  that,  when  he 
had  to  deal  with  men  of  worldly  prudence,  he  did  not  very 
readily  accommodate  himself  to  them. 

"  And  he  avoided,  as  much  as  possible,  having  any 
thing  to  do  with  two-faced  persons,  who  did  not  go  simply 
and  straightforwardly  to  work  in  their  transactions, 
so  "  As  for  liars,  he  could  not  endure  them,  and  he  was 
continually  reminding  his  spiritual  children,  to  avoid  them 
as  they  would  a  pestilence." 

These  are  the  principles  on  which  I  have  acted  before 
I  was  a  Catholic  ;  these  are  the  principles  which,  I  trust, 
will  be  my  stay  and  guidance  to  the  end. 

I  have  closed  this  history  of  myself  with  St.  Philip's 
name  upon  St.  Philip's  feast-day  ;  and,  having  done  so, 
to  whom  can  I  more  suitably  offer  it,  as  a  memorial  of 

15-1G  they  are  the  words  .  .  .  They]  it  is  the  teaching  ...  It 


372  GENERAL  ANSWER  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY. 

affection  and  gratitude,  than  to  St.  Philip's  sons,  my 
dearest  brothers  of  this  House,  the  Priests  of  the  Birming 
ham  Oratory,  AMBROSE  ST.  JOHN,  HENRY  AUSTIN  MILLS, 
HENRY  BITTLESTON,  EDWARD  CASWALL,  WILLIAM  PAINE 
NEVILLE,  and  HENRY  IGNATIUS  DUDLEY  RYDER  1  who 
have  been  so  faithful  to  me  ;  who  have  been  so  sensitive 
of  my  needs  ;  who  have  been  so  indulgent  to  my  failings  ; 
who  have  carried  me  through  so  many  trials  ;  who  have 
grudged  no  sacrifice,  if  I  asked  for  it ;  who  have  been  so 
cheerful  under  discouragements  of  my  causing  ;  who  have  10 
done  so  many  good  works,  and  let  me  have  the  credit  of 
them ; — with  whom  I  have  lived  so  long,  with  whom  I  hope 
to  die. 

And  to  you  especially,  dear  AMBROSE  ST.  JOHN  ;  whom 
God  gave  me,  when  He  took  every  one  else  away  ;  who 
are  the  link  between  my  old  life  and  my  new  ;  who  have 
now  for  twenty-one  years  been  so  devoted  to  me,  so  patient, 
so  zealous,  so  tender  ;  who  have  let  me  lean  so  hard  upon 
you  ;  who  have  watched  me  so  narrowly  ;  who  have  never 
thought  of  yourself,  if  I  was  in  question.  20 

And  in  you  I  gather  up  and  bear  in  memory  those 
familiar  affectionate  companions  and  counsellors,  who  in 
Oxford  were  given  to  me,  one  after  another,  to  be  my 
daily  solace  and  relief  ;  and  all  those  others,  of  great  name 
and  high  example,  who  were  my  thorough  friends,  and 
showed  me  true  attachment  in  times  long  past  ;  and  also 
those  many  younger  men,  whether  I  knew  them  or  not, 
who  have  never  been  disloyal  to  me  by  word  or  [by]  deed  ; 
and  of  all  these,  thus  various  in  their  relations  to  me, 
those  more  especially  who  have  since  joined  the  Catholic  30 
Church. 

And  I  earnestly  pray  for  this  whole  company,  with 
a  hope  against  hope,  that  all  of  us,  who  once  were  so 
united,  and  so  happy  in  our  union,  may  even  now  be 
brought  at  length,  by  the  Power  of  the  Divine  Will,  into 
One  Fold  and  under  One  Shepherd. 

May  26,  1864. 
In  Festo  Corp.  Christ. 

27  younger  1864,  1865]  young  1864  (another  copy). 


APPENDIX. 

(1864.) 

ANSWER  IN  DETAIL  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY'S 
ACCUSATIONS. 


APPENDIX. 

[ANSWER  IN  DETAIL  TO  MR.  KINGSLEY'S  ACCUSATIONS. 

IN  proceeding  now,  according  to  the  engagement  with 
which  I  entered  upon  my  undertaking,  to  examine  in 
detail  the  Pamphlet  which  has  been  written  against  me, 
I  am  very  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  say,  that  it  is  as  slovenly 
and  random  and  futile  in  its  definite  charges,  as  it  is 
iniquitous  in  its  method  of  disputation.  And  now  I  pro 
ceed  to  show  this  without  any  delay  ;  and  shall  consider  in 
order, 

1.  My  Sermon  on  the  Apostolical  Christian. 

2.  My  Sermon  on  Wisdom  and  Innocence. 

3.  The  Anglican  Church. 

4.  The  Lives  of  the  English  Saints. 

5.  Ecclesiastical  Miracles. 

6.  Popular  Religion. 

7.  The  Economy. 

8.  Lying  and  Equivocation. 


Appendix.  1864]  Notes.  1865 

The  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  375-7,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865 


376  APPENDIX. 


1. 

(Not  reprinted  in  1865.) 

My  Sermon  on  "  The  Apostolical  Christian"  being  the  19th 
of  "  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Day." 

This  writer  says,  "  What  Dr.  Newman  means  by  Chris 
tians  ...  he  has  not  left  in  doubt ; "  and  then,  quoting 
a  passage  from  this  Sermon  which  speaks  of  "  the  humble 
monk  and  the  holy  nun  "  being  "  Christians  after  the 
very  pattern  given  us  in  Scripture,"  he  observes,  "  This 
is  his  definition  of  Christians." — p.  28. 

This  is  not  the  case.    I  have  neither  given  a  definition, 
nor  implied  one,  nor  intended  one  ;    nor  could  I,  either 
now  or  in  1843-4,  or  at  any  time,  allow  of  the  particular 
definition  he  ascribes  to  me.    As  if  all  Christians  must  be  10 
monks  or  nuns  ! 

What  I  have  said  is,  that  monks  and  nuns  are  patterns 
of  Christian  perfection  ;  and  that  Scripture  itself  supplies 
us  with  this  pattern.  Who  can  deny  this  ?  Who  is  bold 
enough  to  say  that  St.  John  Baptist,  who,  I  suppose,  is 
a  Scripture  Character,  is  not  a  pattern-monk  ;  and  that 
Mary,  who  "  sat  at  our  Lord's  feet,"  was  not  a  pattern- 
nun  ?  and  "  Anna  too,  who  served  God  with  fastings  and 
prayers  night  and  day  ?  "  Again,  what  is  meant  but  this 
by  St.  Paul's  saying,  "It  is  good  for  a  man  not  to  touch  20 
a  woman  ?  "  and,  when  speaking  of  the  father  or  guardian 
of  a  young  girl,  "  He  that  giveth  her  in  marriage  doeth 
well ;  but  he  that  giveth  her  not  in  marriage  doeth  better  ? ' 
And  what  does  St.  John  mean  but  to  praise  virginity,  when 
he  says  of  the  hundred  forty  and  four  thousand  on  Mount 
Sion,  "  These  are  they  which  were  not  defiled  with  women, 
for  they  are  virgins  ?  "  And  what  else  did  our  Lord 
mean,  when  He  said,  "  There  be  eunuchs  who  have  made 
themselves  eunuchs  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's  sake. 
He  that  is  able  to  receive  it,  let  him  receive  it  ?  "  30 

He  ought  to  know  his  logic  better  :    I  have  said  that 


APPENDIX.  377 

"  monks  and  nuns  find  their  pattern  in  Scripture  :  "    he 
adds,  Therefore  I  hold  all  Christians  are  monks  and  nuns. 
This  is  Blot  one. 

Now  then  for  Blot  two. 

"  Monks  and  nuns  the  only  perfect  Christians  .  .  what 
more  ?  "—p.  29. 

A  second  fault  in  logic.    I  said  no  more  than  that  monks 

and   nuns   were   perfect   Christians  :     he   adds,   Therefore 

"  monks  and  nuns  are  the  only  perfect  Christians."    Monks 

10  and  nuns  are  not  the  only  perfect  Christians  ;    I  never 

thought  so  or  said  so,  now  or  at  any  other  time. 

P.  57.  "In  the  Sermon  .  .  .  monks  and  nuns  are  spoken 
of  as  the  only  true  Bible  Christians."  This,  again,  is  not 
the  case.  What  I  said  is,  that  "  monks  and  nuns  are  Bible 
Christians^-  "  it  does  not  follow,  nor  did  I  mean,  that  "  all 
Bible  Christians  are  monks  and  nuns."  Bad  logic  ao-ain 
Blot  three.] 


378  APPENDIX 


2. 

[MY]  SERMON  ON  "WISDOM  AND  INNOCENCE "[,  BEING  THE 
20TH  OF  "  SERMONS  ON  SUBJECTS  OF  THE  DAY  "]. 

(THE  professed  basis  of  the  charge  of  lying  and  equivoca 
tion  made  against  me,  and,  in  my  person,  against  the 
Catholic  clergy,  was,  as  I  have  already  noticed  in  the 
Preface,  a  certain  Sermon  of  mine  on  "  Wisdom  and  Inno 
cence,"  being  the  20th  in  a  series  of  "  Sermons  on  Subjects 
of  the  Day,"  written,  preached,  and  published  while  I  was 
an  Anglican.  Of  this  Sermon  my  accuser  spoke  thus  in 
his  Pamphlet  :— 

("It  is  occupied  entirely  with  the  attitude  of  '  the  world '  to 
'  Christians '  and  '  the  Church.')  [This  writer  says,  p.  28,  about  10 
my  Sermon  20,]  By  the  world  appears  to  be  signified,  especially, 
the  Protestant  public  of  these  realms(  ;  what  Dr.  Newman  means 
by  Christians,  and  the  Church,  he  has  not  left  in  doubt;  for  in  the 
preceding  Sermon  he  says  :  '  But  if  the  truth  must  be  spoken,  what 
are  the  humble  monk  and  the  holy  nun,  and  other  regulars,  as  they 
are  called,  but  Christians  after  the  very  pattern  given  us  in  Scripture, 
&c.'  ....  This  is  his  definition  of  Christians.  And  in  the  Sermon 
itself,  he  sufficiently  defines  what  he  means  by  '  the  Church,'  in 
two  notes  of  her  character,  which  he  shall  give  in  his  own  words : 
'  What,  for  instance,  though  we  grant  that  sacramental  confession  20 
and  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  do  tend  to  consolidate  the  body  politic 
in  the  relation  of  rulers  and  subjects,  or,  in  other  words,  to  aggrandize 
the  priesthood  ?  for  how  can  the  Church  be  one  body  without  such 
relation  ?  '  "—P.  28. 

(He  then  proceeded  to  analyze  and  comment  on  it  at 
great  length,  and  to  criticize  severely  the  method  and  tone 
of  my  Sermons  generally.  Among  other  things,  he  said  :— 

("  What,  then,  did  the  Sermon  mean  ?}    [He  also  asks,  p.  33]  Why 
was  it  preached  ?[...]  (To  insinuate  that  a  Church  which  had  sacra 
mental  confession  and  a  celibate  clergy  was  the  only  true  Church  ?  30 
Or)  to  insinuate,  that  the  admiring  young  gentlemen,  who  listened  to 
him,  stood  to  their  fellow-countrymen  in  the  relation  of  the  early 

2.  (in  heading)]  Note  C.    On  page  250. 


APPENDIX.  379 

Christians  to  the  heathen  Romans  ?  Or  that  Queen  Victoria's 
Government  was  to  the  Church  of  England,  what  Nero's  or  Dio- 
clesian's  was  to  the  Church  of  Rome  ?  It  may  have  been  so.["] 

[May  or  may  not,  it  wasn't.  He  insinuates,  what  not  even 
with  his  little  finger  does  he  attempt  to  prove.  Blot  four. 

He  asserts,  p.  29,  that  I  said  in  the  Sermon  in  question, 

that   "  Sacramental  Confession  and  the  celibacy  of  the 

clergy  are  '  notes  '  of  the  Church."    And,  just  before,  he 

puts  the  word  "  notes  "  in  inverted  commas,  as  if  it  was 

10  mine.    That  is,  he  garbles.    It  is  not  mine.    Blot  five. 

He  says  that  I  "  define  what  I  mean  by  the  Church  in 
two  '  notes  '  of  her  character."  I  do  not  define,  or  dream 
of  defining. 

1.  He  says  that  I  teach  that  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy 
enters  into  the  definition  of  the  Church.     I  do  no  such 
thing  ;   that  is  the  blunt  truth.    Define  the  Church  by  the 
celibacy  of  the  clergy  !    why,  let  him  read  1  Tim.  iii.  ; 
there  he  will  find  that  bishops  and  deacons  are  spoken  of 
as  married.     How,  then,  could  I  be  the  dolt  to  say  or 

20  imply  that  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  was  a  part  of  the 
definition  of  the  Church  ?  Blot  six. 

And  again  in  p.  57,  "  In  the  Sermon  a  celibate  clergy  is 
made  a  note  of  the  Church."  Thus  the  untruth  is  repeated. 
Blot  seven. 

2.  And  now  for  Blot  eight.     Neither  did  I  say  that 
"  Sacramental  confession  "  was  "  a  note  of  the  Church." 
Nor  is  it.     Nor  could  I  with  any  cogency  have  brought 
this  as  an  argument  against  the  Church  of  England,  for 
the   Church   of   England   has   retained   Confession,    nay, 

so  Sacramental  Confession.  No  fair  man  can  read  the  form 
of  Absolution  in  the  Anglican  Prayer  in  the  Visitation  of 
the  Sick,  without  seeing  that  that  Church  does  sanction 
and  provide  for  Confession  and  Absolution.  If  that  form 
does  not  contain  the  profession  of  a  grave  Sacramental 
act,  words  have  no  meaning.  The  form  is  almost  in  the 
words  of  the  Roman  form  ;  and,  by  the  time  that  this 
Clergyman  has  succeeded  in  explaining  it  away,  he  will 

4  Thematter  between  [],  pages  379  to  380  line  12,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


380  APPENDIX. 

have  also  got  skill  enough  to  explain  away  the  Roman 
form  ;  and  if  he  did  but  handle  my  words  with  that  latitude 
with  which  he  interprets  his  own  formularies,  he  would 
prove  that,  instead  of  my  being  superstitious  and  frantic, 
I  was  the  most  Protestant  of  preachers  and  the  most 
latitudinarian  of  thinkers.  It  would  be  charity  in  him, 
in  his  reading  of  my  words,  to  use  some  of  that  power  of 
evasion,  of  which  he  shows  himself  such  a  master  in  his 
dealing  with  his  own  Prayer  Book.  Yet  he  has  the  assur 
ance  at  p.  33  to  ask,  "  Why  was  the  Sermon  preached  ?  10 
to  insinuate  that  a  Church  which  had  sacramental  con 
fession  and  a  celibate  clergy  was  the  only  true  Church  ?  "] 

(I  know  that  men  used  to  suspect  Dr.  Newman, — I  have  been 
inclined  to  do  so  myself, — of  writing  a  whole  Sermon,  not  for  the 
sake  of  the  text  or  of  the  matter,  but  for  the  sake  of  one  single 
passing  hint — one  phrase,  one  epithet,  one  little  barbed  arrow, 
which,  as  he  swept  magnificently  past  on  the  stream  of  his  calm 
eloquence,  seemingly  unconscious  of  all  presences,  save  those  unseen, 
he  delivered  unheeded,  as  with  his  finger-tip,  to  the  very  heart  of  an 
initiated  hearer,  never  to  be  withdrawn  again.  I  do  not  blame  him  20 
for  that.  It  is  one  of  the  highest  triumphs  of  oratorio  power,  and 
may  be  employed  honestly  and  fairly  by  any  person  who  has  the 
skill  to  do  it  honestly  and  fairly ;  but  then,  Why  did  he  entitle  his 
Sermon  '  Wisdom  and  Innocence '  ? 

("What,  then,  could  I  think  that  Dr.  Newman  meant?  I  found 
a  preacher  bidding  Christians  imitate,  to  some  undefined  point,  the 
*  arts  '  of  the  basest  of  animals,  and  of  men,  and  of  the  devil  himself . 
I  found  him,  by  a  strange  perversion  of  Scripture,  insinuating  that 
St.  Paul's  conduct  and  manner  were  such  as  naturally  to  bring 

11  30 


that  Priestcraft,  which  is  a  notorious  fact  to  every  honest  student 
of  history,  and  justifying  (as  far  as  I  can  understand  him)  that 
double-dealing  by  which  prelates,  in  the  middle  age,  too  often  played 
off  alternately  the  sovereign  against  the  people,  and  the  people 
against  the  sovereign,  careless  which  was  in  the  right,  so  long  as 
their  own  power  gained  by  the  move.  I  found  him  actually  using 
of  such  (and,  as  I  thought,  of  himself  and  his  party  likewise)  the 
words  '  They  yield  outwardly  ;  to  assent  inwardly  were  to  betray  40 
the  faith.  Yet  they  are  caUed  deceitful  and  double-dealing,  because 
they  do  as  much  as  they  can,  and  not  more  than  they  may.'  I  found 

12  The  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  379,  line  4  to  380,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 

13  I  know  that  men  In  186Z  this  followed  what  is  here  page  379  line  3. 


APPENDIX.  381 

him  telling  Christians  that  they  will  always  seem  *  artificial,'  and 
'  wanting  in  openness  and  manliness ; '  that  they  will  always  be 
'  a  mystery '  to  the  world,  and  that  the  world  will  always  think 
them  rogues  ;  and  bidding  them  glory  in  what  the  world  (i.  e.  the 
rest  of  their  countrymen),  disown,  and  say  with  Mawworm,  '  I  like 
to  be  despised.' 

("  Now,  how  was  I  to  know  that  the  preacher,  who  had  the 
reputation  of  being  the  most  acute  man  of  his  generation,  and  of 
having  a  specially  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  weaknesses  of  the 
10  human  heart,  was  utterly  blind  to  the  broad  meaning  and  the  plain 
practical  result  of  a  Sermon  like  this,  delivered  before  fanatic  and 
hot-headed  young  men,  who  hung  upon  his  every  word  ?  that  he 
did  not  foresee  that  they  would  think  that  they  obeyed  him  by 
becoming  affected,  artificial,  sly,  shifty,  ready  for  concealments 
and  equivocations  ?  "  &c.  &c.— Pp.  33,  34. 

(My  accuser  asked  in  this  passage  what  did  the  Sermon 

mean,  and  why  was  it  preached.     I  will  here  answer  this 

question;}    ["Why?"    I  will  tell  the  reader,  why;]    and 

with,  this  view  will  speak,  first  of  the  contents  of  the 

20  Sermon,  then  of  its  subject,  then  of  its  circumstances; 

1.  It  was  one  of  the  last  six  Sermons  which  I  wrote 
when  I  was  an  Anglican.  It  was  one  of  the  five  Sermons 
I  preached  in  St.  Mary's  between  Christmas  and  Easter, 
1843,  the  year  when  I  gave  up  my  Living.  The  MS.  of 
the  Sermon  is  destroyed  ;  but  I  believe,  and  my  memory 
too  bears  me  out,  as  far  as  it  goes,  that  the  sentence  in 
question  about  Celibacy  and  Confession(,  of  which,  this 
writer  would  make  so  much,)  was  not  preached  at  all.  The 
Volume,  in  which  this  Sermon  is  found,  was  published  after 
so  that  I  had  given  up  St.  Mary's,  when  I  had  no  call  on  me 
to  restrain  the  expression  of  any  thing  which  I  might  hold  : 
and  I  state(d)  an  important  fact  about  it  in  the  Advertise- 
ment[,  which  this  truth-loving  writer  suppresses.  Blot 
nine. 

My  words,  which  stared  him  in  the  face,  are  as  follows] 
(in  these  words)  : — "  In  preparing  [these  Sermons]  for 
publication,  a  few  words  and  sentences  have  in  several 
places  been  added,  which  will  be  found  to  express  more 
of  private  or  personal  opinion,  than  it  was  expedient  to 

19  contents]  matter 

20  subject .  .  .  circumstances]  subject .  .  .  circumstances 
36  [These  Sermons]  The  [  ]  are  the  Author's. 


382  APPENDIX. 

introduce  into  the  instruction  delivered  in  Church  to 
a  parochial  Congregation.  Such  introduction,  however, 
seems  unobjectionable  in  the  case  of  compositions,  which 
are  detached  from  the  sacred  place  and  service  to  which 
they  once  belonged,  and  submitted  to  the  reason  and  judg 
ment  of  the  general  reader." 

This  Volume  of  Sermons  then  cannot  be  criticized  at  all 
as  preachments  ;  they  are  essays  ;  essays  of  a  man  who, 
at  the  time  of  publishing  them,  was  not  a  preacher.  Such 
passages,  as  that  in  question,  are  just  the  very  ones  which  10 
I  added  upon  my  publishing  them,  (and,  as)  I  always  was 
on  my  guard  in  the  pulpit  of  saying  any  thing  which  looked 
towards  Rome  ;  and  therefore  all  his  rhetoric  about  my 
"  disciples,"  "  admiring  young  gentlemen  who  listened  to 
me,"  "  fanatic  and  hot-headed  young  men,  who  hung  upon 
my  every  word,"  becomes  simple  rubbish. 

(At  the  same  time  I  cannot  conceive  why  the  mention  of 
Sacramental  Confession,  or  of  Clerical  Celibacy,  had  I  made 
it,  was  inconsistent  with  the  position  of  an  Anglican  Clergy 
man.  For  Sacramental  Confession  and  Absolution  actually  20 
form  a  portion  of  the  Anglican  Visitation  of  the  Sick  ;  and 
though  the  32nd  Article  says  that  "  Bishops,  priests,  and 
deacons,  are  not  commanded  by  God's  law  either  to  vow 
the  state  of  single  life  or  to  abstain  from  marriage,"  and 
"  therefore  it  is  lawful  for  them  to  marry,"  this  proposition 
I  did  not  dream  of  denying,  nor  is  it  inconsistent  with 
St.  Paul's  doctrine,  which  I  held,  that  it  is  "  good  to  abide 
even  as  he,"  i.e.  in  celibacy.) 

(But)  I  have  more  to  say  on  this  point.  This  writer 
says,  [p.  33,]  "I  know  that  men  used  to  suspect  Dr.  New-  so 
man, — I  have  been  inclined  to  do  so  myself, — of  writing 
a  whole  Sermon,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  text  or  of  the  matter, 
but  for  the  sake  of  one  simple  passing  hint, — one  phrase, 
one  epithet."  (Now  observe  ;)  Can  there  be  a  plainer 
testimony  borne  to  the  practical  character  of  my  Sermons 
at  St.  Mary's  than  this  gratuitous  insinuation  ?  Many 
a  preacher  of  Tractarian  doctrine  has  been  accused  of  not 

11  them.]  them;  12  of]  against 

13-16  Rome ;   .   .   .   rubbish]  Rome,  I  shall  believe  that  I  did  not 

preach  the  obnoxious  sentence  till  some  one  is  found  to  testify  that  he 

heard  it 


(NOTE  C.)  383 

letting  his  parishioners  alone,  and  of  teasing  them  with 
his  private  theological  notions.  [You  would  gather  from 
the  general  tone  of  this  Writer  that  that  was  my  way. 
Every  one  who  was  in  the  habit  of  hearing  me,  knows  that 
it  wasn't.  This  Writer  either  knows  nothing  about  it,  and 
then  he  ought  to  be  silent ;  or  he  does  know,  and  then  he 
ought  to  speak  the  truth.  Others  spread]  the  same  report 
(was  spread  about  me)  twenty  years  ago  as  he  does  now, 
and  the  world  believed  that  my  Sermons  at  St.  Mary's  were 

10  full  of  red-hot  Tractarianism.  Then  strangers  came  to  hear 
me  preach,  and  were  astonished  at  their  own  disappoint 
ment.  I  recollect  the  wife  of  a  great  prelate  from  a  distance 
coming  to  hear  me,  and  then  expressing  her  surprise  to  find 
that  I  preached  nothing  but  a  plain  humdrum  Sermon. 
I  recollect  how,  when  on  the  Sunday  before  Commemora 
tion  one  year,  a  number  of  strangers  came  to  hear  me,  and 
I  preached  in  my  usual  way,  residents  in  Oxford,  of  high 
position,  were  loud  in  their  satisfaction  that  on  a  great 
occasion,  I  had  made  a  simple  failure,  for  after  all  there 

20  was  nothing  in  the  Sermon  to  hear.  Well,  but  they  were 
not  going  to  let  me  off,  for  all  my  common-sense  view  of 
duty.  Accordingly,  they  got  up  the  charitable  theory 
which  this  Writer  revives.  They  said  that  there  was 
a  double  purpose  in  those  plain  addresses  of  mine,  and 
that  my  Sermons  were  never  so  artful  as  when  they  seemed 
common-place  ;  that  there  were  sentences  which  redeemed 
their  apparent  simplicity  and  quietness.  So  they  watched 
during  the  delivery  of  a  Sermon,  which  to  them  was  too 
practical  to  be  useful,  for  the  concealed  point  of  it,  which 

so  they  could  at  least  imagine,  if  they  could  not  discover. 
"  Men  used  to  suspect  Dr.  Newman,"  he  says,  "  of  writing 
a  whole  Sermon,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  text  or  of  the 
matter,  but  for  the  sake  of  (one  single  passing  hint,} 
one  phrase,  one  epithet,  one  little  barbed  arrow,  which,  as 
he  swept  magnificently  past  on  the  stream  of  his  calm 
eloquence,  seemingly  unconscious  of  all  presences,  save 
those  unseen,  he  delivered  unheeded,"  &c.  [p.  33.]  To  all 
appearance,  he  says,  I  was  "  unconscious  of  all  presences  "[; 
so  this  kind  Writer  supplies  the  true  interpretation  of  this 


8  he  does]  this  writer  spreadb 


384  APPENDIX. 

unconsciousness.]  He  is  not  able  to  deny  that  "  the  whole 
Sermon  "  had  the  appearance  of  being  "for  the  sake  of  the 
text  and  matter  ;  "  therefore  he  suggests  that  perhaps  it 
wasn't.  [And  then  he  emptily  talks  of  the  "  magnificent 
sweep  of  my  eloquence,"  and  my  "  oratorio  power."  Did 
he  forget  that  the  Sermon  of  which  he  thus  speaks  can  be 
read  by  others  as  well  as  him  ?  Now,  the  sentences  are  as 
short  as  Aristotle's,  and  as  grave  as  Bishop  Butler's.  It 
is  written  almost  in  the  condensed  style  of  Tract  90. 
Eloquence  there  is  none.  I  put  this  down  as  Blot  ten.]  10 

2.  And  now  as  to  the  subject  of  the  Sermon.  The 
series  of  which  the  Volume  consists  are  such  [Sermons] 
as  are,  more  or  less,  exceptions  to  the  rule  which  I  ordin 
arily  observed,  as  to  the  subjects  which  I  introduced  into 
the  pulpit  of  St.  Mary's.  They  are  not  purely  ethical  or 
doctrinal.  They  were  for  the  most  part  caused  by  circum 
stances  of  the  day  or  of  the  time,  and  they  belong  to  various 
years.  One  was  written  in  1832,  two  in  1836,  two  in  1838, 
"five  in  1840,  five  in  1841,  four  in  1842,  seven  in  1843. 
Many  of  them  are  engaged  on  one  subject,  viz.  in  viewing  20 
the  Church  in  its  relation  to  the  world.  By  the  world  was 
meant,  not  simply  those  multitudes  which  were  not  in  the 
Church,  but  the  existing  body  of  human  society,  whether 
in  the  Church  or  not,  whether  Catholics,  Protestants, 
Greeks,  or  Mahometans,  theists  or  idolaters,  as  being  ruled 
by  principles,  maxims,  and  instincts  of  their  own,  that  is, 
of  an  unregenerate  nature,  whatever  then*  supernatural 
privileges  might  be,  greater  or  less,  according  to  their  form 
of  religion.  This  view  of  the  relation  of  the  Church  to  the 
world  as  taken  apart  from  questions  of  ecclesiastical  politics,  so 
as  they  may  be  called,  is  often  brought  out  in  my  Sermons. 
Two  occur  to  me  at  once  ;  No.  3  of  my  Plain  Sermons, 
which  was  written  in  1829,  and  No.  15  of  my  Third  Volume 
(of  Parochial),  written  in  1835.  [Then,]  on  the  other  hand, 
by  Church  I  meant, — in  common  with  all  writers  con 
nected  with  the  Tract  Movement,  whatever  their  shades 
of  opinion,  and  with  the  whole  body  of  English  divines, 
except  those  of  the  Puritan  or  Evangelical  School, — the 

12  series]  Sermons  17  time]  moment 


(NOTE  C.)  385 

whole  of  Christendom,  from  the  Apostles'  time  till  now, 
whatever  their  later  divisions  into  Latin,  Greek,  and 
Anglican.  I  have  explained  this  view  of  the  subject  above 
at  pp.  168 — 171  of  this  Volume.  When  then  I  speak,  in 
the  particular  Sermon  before  us,  of  the  members,  or  the 
rulers,  or  the  action  of  "  the  Church,"  I  mean  neither  the 
Latin,  nor  the  Greek,  nor  the  English,  taken  by  itself,  but 
of  the  whole  Church  as  one  body  :  of  Italy  as  one  with 
England,  of  the  Saxon  or  Norman  as  one  with  the  Caroline 

10  Church.  This  was  specially  the  one  Church,  and  the 
points  in  which  one  branch  or  one  period  differed  from 
another  were  not  and  could  not  be  Notes  of  the  Church, 
because  Notes  necessarily  belong[ed]  to  the  whole  of  the 
Church  every  where  and  always. 

This  being  my  doctrine  as  to  the  relation  of  the  Church 
to  the  world,  I  laid  down  in  the  Sermon  three  principles 
concerning  it,  and  there  left  the  matter.  The  first  is,  that 
Divine  Wisdom  had  framed  for  its  action,  laws  which  man, 
if  left  to  himself,  would  have  antecedently  pronounced  to 

20  be  the  worst  possible  for  its  success,  and  which  in  all  ages 
have  been  called  by  the  world,  as  they  were  in  the  Apostles' 
days,  "  foolishness ; "  that  man  ever  relies  on  physical 
and  material  force,  and  on  carnal  inducements, — as 
Mahomet  with  his  sword  and  his  houris,  or  indeed  almost 
as  that  theory  of  religion,  called,  since  the  Sermon  was 
written,  "  muscular  Christianity ;  "  but  that  our  Lord, 
on  the  contrary,  has  substituted  meekness  for  haughtiness, 
passiveness  for  violence,  and  innocence  for  craft  :  and  that 
the  event  has  shown  the  high  wisdom  of  such  an  economy, 

30  for  it  has  brought  to  light  a  set  of  natural  laws,  unknown 
before,  by  which  the  seeming  paradox  that  weakness  should 
be  stronger  than  might,  and  simplicity  than  worldly  policy, 
is  readily  explained. 

Secondly,  I  said  that  men  of  the  world,  judging  by  the 
event,  and  not  recognizing  the  secret  causes  of  the  success, 
viz.  a  higher  order  of  natural  laws, — natural,  though  their 
source  and  action  were  supernatural,  (for  "  the  meek  inherit 
the  earth,"  by  means  of  a  meekness  which  comes  from 
above,) — these  men,  I  say,  concluded,  that  the  success 

40  which  they  witnessed  must  arise  from  some  evil  secret 
which  the  world  had  not  mastered, — by  means  of  magic, 

APOLOGIA  Q 


386  APPENDIX. 

as  they  said  in  the  first  ages,  by  cunning  as  they  say  now. 
And  accordingly  they  thought  that  the  humility  and 
inoffensiveness  of  Christians,  or  of  Churchmen,  was  a  mere 
pretence  and  blind  to  cover  the  real  causes  of  that  success, 
which  Christians  could  explain  and  would  not ;  and  that 
they  were  simply  hypocrites. 

Thirdly,  I  suggested  that  shrewd  ecclesiastics,  who  knew 
very  well  that  there  was  neither  magic  nor  craft  in  the 
matter,  and,  from  their  intimate  acquaintance  with  what 
actually  went  on  within  the  Church,  discerned  what  were  10 
the  real  causes  of  its  success,  were  of  course  under  the 
temptation  of  substituting  reason  for  conscience,  and, 
instead  of  simply  obeying  the  command,  were  led  to  do 
good  that  good  might  come,  that  is,  to  act  in  order  to  their 
success,  and  not  from  a  motive  of  faith.  Some,  I  said,  did 
yield  to  the  temptation  more  or  less,  and  their  motives 
became  mixed  ;  and  in  this  way  the  world  in  a  more 
subtle  shape  has  got  into  the  Church  ;  and  hence  it  has 
come  to  pass,  that,  looking  at  its  history  from  first  to  last, 
we  cannot  possibly  draw  the  line  between  good  and  evil  20 
there,  and  say  either  that  every  thing  is  to  be  defended, 
or  some  things  to  be  condemned.  I  expressed  the  difficulty, 
which  I  supposed  to  be  inherent  in  the  Church,  in  the  follow 
ing  words.  I  said,  "  Priestcraft  lias  ever  been  considered 
the  badge,  and  its  imputation  is  a  kind  of  Note  of  the 
Church  ;  and  in  part  indeed  truly,  because  the  presence  of 
powerful  enemies,  and  the  sense  of  their  own  weakness, 
has  sometimes  tempted  Christians  to  the  abuse,  instead  of  the 
use  oj  Christian  wisdom,  to  be  wise  without  being  harmless  ; 
but  partly,  nay,  for  the  most  part,  not  truly,  but  slan-s.i 
derously,  and  merely  because  the  world  called  their  wisdom 
craft,  when  it  was  found  to  be  a  match  for  its  own  numbers 
and  power."  [This  passage  he  has  partly  garbled,  partly 
omitted.  Blot  eleven.] 

Such  is  the  substance  of  the  Sermon  :  and  as  to  the 
main  drift  of  it,  it  was  this  ;  that  I  was,  there  and  else 
where,  scrutinizing  the  course  of  the  Church  as  a  whole, 
as  if  philosophically,  as  an  historical  phenomenon,  and 
observing  the  laws  on  which  it  was  conducted.  Hence  the 

14  their]  secure  18  lias  (twice)]  had  20  cannot]  could  not 

21  is] was  22  some]  certain 


(NOTE  0.)  387 

Sermon,  or  Essay  as  it  more  truly  is,  is  written  in  a  dry 
and  unimpassioned  way  :  it  shows  as  little  of  human 
warmth  of  feelingf,  I  repeat,]  as  a  Sermon  of  Bishop 
Butler's.  Yet,  under  that  calm  exterior  there  was  a  deep 
and  keen  sensitiveness,  as  I  shall  now  proceed  to  show. 

3.  If  I  mistake  not,  it  was  written  with  a  secret  thought 
about  myself.  Every  one  preaches  according  to  his  frame 
of  mind,  at  the  time  of  preaching.  One  heaviness  especially 
oppressed  me  at  that  season,  which  this  Writer,  twenty 

10  years  afterwards,  has  set  himself  with  a  good  will  to 
renew  :  it  arose  from  the  sense  of  the  base  calumnies  which 
were  thrown  upon  me  on  all  sides.  (It  is  worth  observing 
that  this  Sermon  is  exactly  contemporaneous  with  the 
report  spread  by  a  Bishop  (vid.  supr.  p.  275),  that  I  had 
advised  a  clergyman  converted  to  Catholicism  to  retain 
his  Living.  This  report  was  in  circulation  in  February 
1843,  and  my  Sermon  was  preached  on  the  19th.)  In  this 
trouble  of  mind  (into  which  I  was  thrown  by  such  calum 
nies  as  this,)  I  gained,  while  I  reviewed  the  history  of  the 

20  Church,  at  once  an  argument  and  a  consolation.  My 
argument  was  this  :  if  I,  who  knew  my  own  innocence, 
was  so  blackened  by  party  prejudice,  perhaps  those  high 
rulers  and  those  servants  of  the  Church,  in  the  many  ages 
which  intervened  between  the  early  Nicene  times  and  the 
present,  who  were  laden  with  such  grievous  accusations, 
were  innocent  also  ;  and  this  reflection  served  to  make  me 
tender  towards  those  great  names  of  the  past,  to  whom 
weaknesses  or  crimes  were  imputed,  and  reconciled  me  to 
difficulties  in  ecclesiastical  proceedings,  which  there  were 

so  no  means  now  of  properly  explaining.  And  the  sympathy 
thus  excited  for  them,  re-acted  on  myself,  and  I  found 
comfort  in  being  able  to  put  myself  under  the  shadow  of 
those  who  had  suffered  as  I  was  suffering,  and  who  seemed 
to  promise  me  their  recompense,  since  I  had  a  fellowship 
in  their  trial.  In  a  letter  to  my  Bishop  at  the  time  of 
Tract  90,  part  of  which  I  have  quoted,  I  said  that  I  had 
ever  tried  to  "  keep  innocency  ;  "  and  now  two  years  had 
passed  since  then,  and  men  were  louder  and  louder  in 

12  thrown]  heaped  17  this]  the 


388  APPENDIX. 

heaping  on  me  the  very  charges,  which  this  Writer  repeats 
out  of  my  Sermon,  of  "  fraud  and  cunning,"  "  craftiness 
and  deceitfulness,"  "  double-dealing,"  "  priestcraft,"  of 
being  "  mysterious,  dark,  subtle,  designing,"  when  I  was 
all  the  time  conscious  to  myself,  in  my  degree,  and  after 
my  measure,  of  "  sobriety,  self-restraint,  and  control  of 
word  and  feeling."  I  had  had  experience  how  my  past 
success  had  been  imputed  to  "  secret  management ;  "  and 
how,  when  I  had  shown  surprise  at  that  success,  that 
surprise  again  was  imputed  to  "  deceit  ;  "  and  how  my  10 
honest  heartfelt  submission  to  authority  had  been  called, 
as  it  was  called  in  a  colonial  Bishop's  charge,  "  mystic 
humility  ;  "  and  how  my  silence  was  called  an  "  hypocrisy  ;  " 
and  my  faithfulness  to  my  clerical  engagements  a  secret 
correspondence  with  the  enemy.  And  I  found  a  way 
of  destroying  my  sensitiveness  about  these  things  which 
jarred  upon  my  sense  of  justice,  and  otherwise  would 
have  been  too  much  for  me,  by  the  contemplation  of  a 
large  law  of  the  Divine  Dispensation,  and  found  myself 
more  and  more  able  to  bear  in  my  own  person  a  present  20 
trial,  of  which  in  my  past  writings  I  had  expressed  an 
anticipation. 

For  thus  feeling  and  thus  speaking  this  Writer  has  the 
charitableness  and  the  decency  to  call  me  "  Mawworm." 
"  I  found  him  telling  Christians,"  he  says,  "  that  they  will 
always  seem  '  artificial,'  and  '  wanting  in  openness  and 
manliness  ;  '  that  they  will  always  be  '  a  mystery  '  to  the 
world  ;  and  that  the  world  will  always  think  them  rogues  ; 
and  bidding  them  glory  in  what  the  world  (that  is,  the  rest 
of  their  fellow-countrymen)  disown,  and  say  with  Maw-  30 
worm,  '  I  like  to  be  despised.'  [.  .  .]  (Now)  How  was 
I  to  know  that  the  preacher  .  .  .  was  utterly  blind  to  the 
broad  meaning  and  the  plain  practical  result  of  a  Sermon 
like  this  delivered  before  fanatic  and  hot-headed  young 
men,  who  hung  upon  his  every  word  ?  " — [p.  34.  Hot 
headed  young  men  !  why,  man,  you  are  writing  a  Romance. 
You  think  the  scene  is  Alexandria  or  the  Spanish  main, 
where  you  may  let  your  imagination  play  revel  to  the 
extent  of  inveracity.  It  is  good  luck  for  me  that  the 

12  colonial]  foreign  19  found]  felt  23-24  has  the 

charitableness  and  the  decency  to  call  me]  compares  me  to 


(NOTE  C.)  3S9 

scene  of  my  labours  was  not  at  Moscow  or  Damascus. 
Then  I  might  be  one  of  your  ecclesiastical  Saints,  of  which 
I  sometimes  hear  in  conversation,  but  with  whom,  I  am 
glad  to  say,  I  have  no  personal  acquaintance.  Then  you 
might  ascribe  to  me  a  more  deadly  craft  than  mere  quibbling 
and  lying  ;  in  Spain  I  should  have  been  an  Inquisitor, 
with  my  rack  in  the  background  ;  I  should  have  had  a  con 
cealed  dagger  in  Sicily  ;  at  Venice  I  should  have  brewed 
poison  ;  in  Turkey  I  should  have  been  the  Sheik-el-Islam 

10  with  my  bowstring  ;  in  Khorassan  I  should  have  been 
a  veiled  Prophet.  "  Fanatic  young  men  !  "  Why  he  is 
writing  out  the  list  of  a  Dramatis  Personae  ;  "  guards,  con 
spirators,  populace,"  and  the  like.  He  thinks  I  was  ever 
moving  about  with  a  train  of  Capulets  at  my  heels.] 
["]  Hot-headed  fanatics,  who  hung  on  my  every  word  !  ["] 
If  he  had  (undertaken  to  write  a  history,  and  not  a  play, 
he  would  have  easily  found  out,  as  I  have  said  (above),  that 
from  1841 1  had  severed  myself  from  the  younger  generation 
of  Oxford,  that  Dr.  Pusey  and  I  had  then  closed  our  theo- 

20  logical  meetings  at  his  house,  that  I  had  brought  my  own 
weekly  evening  parties  to  an  end,  that  I  preached  only  by 
fits  and  starts  at  St.  Mary's,  so  that  the  attendance  of 
young  men  was  broken  up,  that  in  those  very  weeks  from 
Christmas  till  over  Easter,  during  which  this  Sermon  was 
preached,  I  was  but  five  times  in  the  pulpit  there.  He 
would  have  known,  that  it  was  written  at  a  time  when 
I  was  shunned  rather  than  sought,  when  I  had  great  sacri 
fices  in  anticipation,  when  I  was  thinking  much  of  myself ; 
that  I  was  ruthlessly  tearing  myself  away  from  my  own 

30  followers,  and  that,  in  the  musings  of  that  Sermon,  I  was 
at  the  very  utmost  only  delivering  a  testimony  in  my 
behalf  for  time  to  come,  not  sowing  my  rhetoric  broad 
cast  for  the  chance  of  present  sympathy.  [Blot  twelve.] 

I  proceed  :  he  says  [at  p.  33],  "  I  found  him  actually 
using  of  such  [prelates],  (and,  as  I  thought,  of  himself 
and  his  party  likewise,)  the  words  '  They  yield  outwardly ; 
to  assent  inwardly  were  to  betray  the  faith.  Yet  they  are 
called  deceitful  and  double-dealing,  because  they  do  as 

15  Hot-headed  fanatics]  Fanatic  and  hot-headed  young  men 

16  play]  romance  26  known]  found 

34  I  proceed  :]  Again,  35  [prelates]  These  are  Dr.  Newman's  [    ] 


390  APPENDIX. 

puch  as  they  can,  not  more  than  they  may.'  "  This  too 
is  a  proof  of  my  duplicity !  Let  this  writer  [go]  (,  in  his 
dealings)  with  some  one  else,  (go)  just  a  little  further  than 
he  has  gone  with  me  ;  and  let  him  get  into  a  court  of  law 
for  libel ;  and  let  him  be  convicted  ;  and  let  him  still 
fancy  that  his  libel,  though  a  libel,  was  true,  and  let  us 
then  see  whether  he  will  not  in  such  a  case  "  yield  out 
wardly,"  without  assenting  internally  ;  and  then  again 
whether  we  should  please  him,  if  we  called  him  "  deceitful 
and  double-dealing,"  because  "  he  did  as  much  as  he  10 
could,  not  more  than  he  ought  to  do."  But  Tract  90  will 
supply  a  real  illustration  of  what  I  meant.  I  yielded  to 
the  Bishops  in  outward  act,  viz.  in  not  defending  the  Tract, 
and  in  closing  the  Series  ;  but,  not  only  did  I  not  assent 
inwardly  to  any  condemnation  of  it,  but  I  opposed  myself 
to  the  proposition  of  a  condemnation  on  the  part  of 
authority.  Yet  I  was  then  by  the  public  called  "  deceitful 
and  double-dealing,"  as  this  Writer  calls  me  now,  "  because 
I  did  as  much  as  I  felt  I  could  do,  and  not  more  than  I  felt 
I  could  honestly  do."  Many  were  the  publications  of  the  20 
day  and  the  private  letters  which  accused  me  of  shuffling, 
because  I  closed  the  Series  of  Tracts,  yet  kept  the  Tracts 
on  sale,  as  if  I  ought  to  comply  not  only  with  what  my 
Bishop  asked,  but  with  what  he  did  not  ask,  and  perhaps 
did  not  wish.  However,  such  teaching,  according  to  this 
Writer,  was  likely  to  make  young  men  (")  suspect,  that 
truth  was  not  a  virtue  for  its  own  sake,  but  only  for  the 
sake  of  ["]the  spread  of  Catholic  opinions,"  and  the 
"  salvation  of  their  own  souls  ;  "  and  that  ["]  cunning  was 
the  weapon  which  heaven  had  allowed  to  them  to  defend  30 
themselves  against  the  persecuting  Protestant  public." — 
p.  34.  [Blot  thirteen.] 

And  now  I  draw  attention  to  another  point.  He  says 
[at  p.  34],  "  How  was  I  to  know  that  the  preacher  .  .  . 
did  not  foresee,  that  [fanatic  and  hot-headed  young  men] 
would  think  that  they  obeyed  him,  by  becoming  affected, 
artificial,  sly,  shifty,  ready  for  concealments  and  equivoca 
tions  ?  "  "  How  should  he  know  !  "  What !  I  suppose 


suppose 

lions'  29  "Salv 

other!  a  further          3< 
men]  These  are  Dr.  Newman's  [     ] 


28  Catholic  opinions  "]  '  Catholic  opinions '  29  "  Salvation 

souls  "]  '  salvation  .  . .  souls  '          33  another]  a  further          35  [fanatic 


(NOTE  C.)  391 

that  we  are  to  think  every  man  a  knave  till  he  is  proved 
not  to  be  such.  Know  !  had  he  no  friend  to  tell  him 
whether  I  was  "  affected  "  or  "  artificial  "myself  ?  Could 
he  not  have  done  better  than  impute  equivocations  to  me, 
at  a  time  when  I  was  in  no  sense  answerable  for  the  amphi- 
bologia  of  the  Roman  casuists  ?  Has  he  a  single  fact 
which  belongs  to  me  personally  or  by  profession  to  couple 
my  name  with  equivocation  in  1843  ?  "  How  should  he 
know  "  that  I  was  not  sly,  smooth,  artificial,  non -natural  ! 

10  he  should  know  by  that  common  manly  frankness,  [if  he 
had  it,]  by  which  we  put  confidence  in  others,  till  they  are 
proved  to  have  forfeited  it ;  he  should  know  it  by  my  own 
words  in  that  very  Sermon,  in  which  I  say  it  is  best  to  be 
natural,  and  that  reserve  is  at  best  but  an  unpleasant 
necessity.  (For)  I  say  (there  expressly),  ''  I  do  not  deny 
that  there  is  something  very  engaging  in  a  frank  and 
unpretending  manner  ;  some  persons  have  it  more  than 
others  ;  in  some  persons  it  is  a  great  grace.  But  it  must 
be  recollected  that  I  am  speaking  of  times  of  persecution 

20  and  oppression  to  Christians,  such  as  the  text  foretells  ; 
and  then  surely  frankness  will  become  nothing  else  than 
indignation  at  the  oppressor,  and  vehement  speech,  if  it 
is  permitted.  Accordingly,  as  persons  have  deep  feelings,  so 
they  will  find  the  necessity  of  self-control,  lest  they  should 
say  what  they  ought  not."  [He  omits  these  words.  I  call, 
then,  this  base  insinuation  that  I  taught  equivocation, 
Blot  the  fourteenth.] 

[Lastly,]  he  sums  up  thus  :(— }"If  [Dr.  Newman]  would 
.  .  .  persist  (as  in  this  Sermon)  in  dealing  with  matters 
so  dark,  offensive,  doubtful,  sometimes  actually  forbidden,  at 
least  according  to  the  notions  of  the  great  majority  of 
English  Churchmen ;  if  he  would  always  do  so  in  a  tentative, 
paltering  way,  seldom  or  never  letting  the  world  know 
how  much  he  believed,  how  far  he  intended  to  go  ;  if,  in 
a  word,  his  method  of  teaching  was  a  suspicious  one,  what 


a  new 


6  Has]  Had         15  "I  do  not  deny     These  words  commenced 
paragraph  in  1865.  23  feelings]  feelings  28  He  sums  up 

These  words  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  lS6o.          28  [Dr.  Newman] 
These  are  Dr.  Newman's  [     ] 


392  APPENDIX. 

wonder  if  the  minds  of  men  were  filled  with  suspicions  of 
him  ?  "—p.  35. 

Now  [first]  (,  in  the  course  of  my  Narrative,  I  have  frankly 
admitted  that  I  was  tentative  in  such  of  my  works  as  fairly 
allowed  of  the  introduction  into  them  of  religious  inquiry  ; 
but)  he  is  speaking  of  my  Sermons  ;  where,  then,  is  his 
proof  that  in  my  Sermons  I  dealt  in  matters  dark,  offen 
sive,  doubtful,  actually  forbidden  ?  [he  has  said  nothing 
in  proof  that  I  have  not  been  able  flatly  to  deny. 

["  Forbidden  according  to  the  notions  of  the  great  10 
majority  of  English  Churchmen."  I  should  like  to  know 
what  opinions,  beyond  those  which  relate  to  the  Creed,  are 
held  by  the  "  majority  of  English  Churchmen  :  " — are  his 
own  ?  is  it  not  perfectly  well  known,  that  "  the  great 
majority  "  think  of  him  and  his  views  with  a  feeling  which 
I  will  not  describe,  because  it  is  not  necessary  for  my 
argument  ?  So  far  is  certain,  that  he  has  not  the  majority 
with  him. 

["In  a  tentative,  paltering  way."  The  word  "  palter 
ing  "  I  reject,  as  vague  ;  as  to  "  tentative,"]  he  must  20 
show  that  I  was  tentative  in  my  Sermons  ;  and  he  has  (the 
range  of)  eight  volumes  to  look  through.  As  to  the  ninth, 
my  University  Sermons,  of  course  I  was  ["]  tentative  ["] 
(in  them) ;  but  not  because  "  I  would  seldom  or  never  let 
the  world  know  how  much  I  believed,  or  how  far  I  intended 
to  go  ;  "  but  because  (University  Sermons  are  commonly, 
and  allowably,  of  the  nature  of  disquisitions,  as  preached 
before  a  learned  body;  and  because)  in  deep  subjects, 
which  had  not  been  fully  investigated,  I  said  as  much  as 
I  believed,  and  about  as  far  as  I  saw  I  could  go  ;  and  so 
a  man  cannot  do  more ;  and  I  account  no  man  to  be  a 
philosopher  who  attempts  to  do  more.  [How  long  am  I  to 
have  the  office  of  merely  negativing  assertions  which  are 
but  supported  by  former  assertions,  in  which  John  is  ever 
helping  Tom,  and  the  elephant  stands  upon  the  tortoise  ? 
This  is  Blot  fifteen.] 

20  he  must]  He  must  22  look  through]  gather  evidence  in 


(NOTE  E.)  393 

3. 

The  Anglican  Church. 

[This  Writer  says  : — "  If  there  is,  as  there  is,  a  strong 
distrust  of  certain  Catholics,  it  is  restricted  to  the  pro 
selytizing  priests  among  them  ;  and  especially  to  those, 
who,  like  Dr.  Newman,  have  turned  round  upon  their 
mother  Church,  (I  had  almost  said  their  mother  country,) 
with  contumely  and  slander." — p.  36. 

[No  one  has  a  right  to  make  a  charge,  without  at  least 
an  attempt  to  prove  what  he  says  ;  but  this  Writer  is  con 
sistent  with  himself.  From  the  time  that  he  first  spoke 
10  of  me  in  the  Magazine,  when  has  he  ever  even  professed  to 
give  evidence  of  any  sort  for  any  one  of  his  charges,  from 
his  own  sense  of  propriety,  and  without  being  challenged  on 
the  point  ?  After  the  sentence  which  I  have  been  quoting, 
and  another  like  it,  he  coolly  passes  on  to  Tract  90  !  Blot 
sixteen  ;  but  I  shall  dwell  on  it  awhile,  for  its  own  sake.] 

[Now]  I  have  been  bringing  out  my  mind  in  this  Volume 
on  every  subject  which  has  come  before  me  ;  and  there 
fore  I  am  bound  to  state  plainly  what  I  feel  and  have  felt, 
since  I  was  a  Catholic,  about  the  Anglican  Church.  I  said, 

20  in  a  former  page,  that,  on  my  conversion,  I  was  not  con 
scious  of  any  change  in  me  of  thought  or  feeling,  as  regards 
matters  of  doctrine  ;  this,  however,  was  not  the  case  as 
regards  some  matters  of  fact,  and,  unwilling  as  I  am  to 
give,  offence  to  religious  Anglicans,  I  am  bound  to  confess 
that  I  felt  a  great  change  in  my  view  of  the  Church  of 
England.  I  cannot  tell  how  soon  there  came  on  me, — but 
very  soon, — an  extreme  astonishment  that  I  had  ever 
imagined  it  to  be  a  portion  of  the  Catholic  Church.  For 
the  first  time,  I  looked  at  it  from  without,  and  (as  I  should 

so  myself  say)  saw  it  as  it  was.  Forthwith  I  could  not  get 
myself  to  see  in  it  any  thing  else,  than  what  I  had  so  long 

3.  (in  heading)]  Note  E.    On  page  318. 
O  3 


394  APPENDIX 

fearfully  suspected,  from  as  (far  back  as  1836, — a  mere 
national  institution.  As  if  my  eyes  were  suddenly  opened, 
so  I  saw  it — spontaneously,  apart  from  any  definite  act  of 
reason  or  any  argument ;  and  so  I  have  seen  it  ever  since. 
I  suppose,  the  main  cause  of  this  lay  in  the  contrast  which 
was  presented  to  me  by  the  Catholic  Church.  Then 
I  recognized  at  once  a  reality  which  was  quite  a  new  thing 
with  me.  Then  I  was  sensible  that  I  was  not  making  for 
myself  a  Church  by  an  effort  of  thought ;  I  needed  not  to 
make  an  act  of  faith  in  her  ;  I  had  not  painfully  to  force  10 
myself  into  a  position,  but  my  mind  fell  back  upon  itself 
in  relaxation  and  in  peace,  and  I  gazed  at  her  almost 
passively  as  a  great  objective  fact.  I  looked  at  her  ; — at 
her  rites,  her  ceremonial,  and  her  precepts  ;  and  I  said, 
'  This  is  a  religion  ;  "  and  then,  when  I  looked  back  upon 
the  poor  Anglican  Church,  for  which  I  had  laboured  so 
hard,  and  upon  all  that  appertained  to  it,  and  thought  of 
our  various  attempts  to  dress  it  up  doctrinally  and  estheti- 
cally,  it  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  veriest  of  nonentities. 
Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity  !  How  can  I  make  a  20 
record  of  what  passed  within  me,  without  seeming  to  be 
satirical  ?  But  I  speak  plain,  serious  words.  As  people 
call  me  credulous  for  acknowledging  Catholic  claims,  so 
they  call  me  satirical  for  disowning  Anglican  pretensions ; 
to  them  it  is  credulity,  to  them  it  is  satire  ;  but  it  is  not 
so  in  me.  What  they  think  exaggeration,  I  think  truth. 
I  am  not  speaking  of  the  Anglican  Church  in  any  disdain, 
though  to  them  I  seem  contemptuous.  To  them  of  course 
it  is  "  Aut  Caesar  aut  nullus,"  but  not  to  me.  It  may  be 
a  great  creation,  though  it  be  not  divine,  and  this  is  how  30 
I  judge  of  it.  Men,  who  abjure  the  divine  right  of  kings, 
would  be  very  indignant,  if  on  that  account  they  were 
considered  disloyal.  And  so  I  recognize  in  the  Anglican 
Church  a  time-honoured  institution,  of  noble  historical 
memories,  a  monument  of  ancient  wisdom,  a  momentous 
arm  of  political  strength,  a  great  national  organ,  a  source 
of  vast  popular  advantage,  and,  to  a  certain  point,  a  witness 
and  teacher  of  religious  truth.  I  do  not  think  that,  if 
what  I  have  written  about  it  since  I  have  been  a  Catholic, 

20  Vanity  This  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  186-5. 
27  in]  with 


(NOTE  E.)  395 

be  equitably  considered  as  a  whole,  1  shall  be  found  to 
have  taken  any  other  view  than  this  ;  but  that  it  is  some 
thing  sacred,  that  it  is  an  oracle  of  revealed  doctrine,  that  it 
can  claim  a  share  in  St.  Ignatius  or  St.  Cyprian,  that  it 
can  take  the  rank,  contest  the  teaching,  and  stop  the  path 
of  the  Church  of  St.  Peter,  that  it  can  call  itself  "  the 
Bride  of  the  Lamb,"  this  is  the  view  of  it  which  simply 
disappeared  from  my  mind  on  my  conversion,  and  which 
it  would  be  almost  a  miracle  to  reproduce.  "  I  went  by, 

10  and  lo  !  it  was  gone  ;  I  sought  it,  but  its  place  could  no 
where  be  found  ;  "  and  nothing  can  bring  it  back  to  me. 
And,  as  to  its  possession  of  an  episcopal  succession  from 
the  time  of  the  Apostles,  well,  it  may  have  it,  and,  if  the 
Holy  See  ever  so  decide[d],  I  will  believe  it,  as  being  the 
decision  of  a  higher  judgment  than  my  own  ;  but,  for 
myself,  I  must  have  St.  Philip's  gift,  who  saw  the  sacer 
dotal  character  on  the  forehead  of  a  gaily-attired  youngster, 
before  I  can  by  my  own  wit  acquiesce  in  it,  for  antiquarian 
arguments  are  altogether  unequal  to  the  urgency  of  visible 

20  facts.  Why  is  it  that  I  must  pain  dear  friends  by  saying 
so,  and  kindle  a  sort  of  resentment  against  me  in  the 
kindest  of  hearts  ?  but  1  must,  though  to  do  it  be  not  only 
a  grief  to  me,  but  most  impolitic  at  the  moment.  Any  how, 
this  is  my  mind  ;  and,  if  to  have  it,  if  to  have  betrayed  it, 
before  now,  involuntarily  by  my  words  or  my  deeds,  if  on 
a  fitting  occasion,  as  now,  to  have  avowed  it,  if  all  this 
be  a  proof  of  the  justice  of  the  charge  brought  against 
me  (by  my  accuser)  of  having  "turned  round  upon  my 
Mother-Church  with  contumely  and  slander,"  in  this  sense, 

so  but  in  no  other  sense,  do  I  plead  guilty  to  it  without 
a  word  in  extenuation. 

„  In  no  other  sense  surely  ;  the  Church  of  England  has 
been  the  instrument  of  Providence  in  conferring  great 
benefits  on  me  ;( — )had  I  been  born  in  Dissent,  perhaps 
I  should  never  have  been  baptized  ;  had  I  been  born  an 
English  Presbyterian,  perhaps  I  should  never  have  known 
our  Lord's  divinity  ;  had  I  not  come  to  Oxford,  perhaps 
I  never  should  have  heard  of  the  visible  Church,  or  of 
Tradition,  or  other  Catholic  doctrines.  And  as  I  have 

40  received  so  much  good  from  the  Anglican  Establishment 
itself,  can  I  have  the  heart,  or  rather  the  want  of  charity, 


396  APPENDIX. 

considering  that  it  does  for  so  many  others,  what  it  has 
done  for  me,  to  wish  to  see  it  overthrown  ?  I  have  no 
such  wish  while  it  is  what  it  is,  and  while  we  are  so  small 
a  body.  Not  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  many 
congregations  to  which  it  ministers,  I  will  do  nothing 
against  it.  While  Catholics  are  so  weak  in  England,  it  is 
doing  our  work  ;  and,  though  it  does  us  harm  in  a  measure, 
at  present  the  balance  is  in  our  favour.  What  our  duty 
would  be  at  another  time  and  in  other  circumstances,  sup 
posing,  for  instance,  the  Establishment  lost  its  dogmatic  10 
faith,  or  at  least  did  not  preach  it,  is  another  matter 
altogether.  In  secular  history  we  read  of  hostile  nations 
having  long  truces,  and  renewing  them  from  time  to  time, 
and  that  seems  to  be  the  position  (which)  the  Catholic 
Church  may  fairly  take  up  at  present  in  relation  to  the 
Anglican  Establishment. 

Doubtless  the  National  Church  has  hitherto  been  a 
serviceable  breakwater  against  doctrinal  errors,  more 
fundamental  than  its  own.  How  long  this  will  last  in  the 
years  now  before  us,  it  is  impossible  to  say,  for  the  Nation  20 
drags  down  its  Church  to  its  own  level ;  but  still  the 
National  Church  has  the  same  sort  of  influence  over  the 
Nation  that  a  periodical  has  upon  the  party  which  it 
represents,  and  my  own  idea  of  a  Catholic's  fitting  attitude 
towards  the  National  Church  in  this  its  supreme  hour,  is 
that  of  assisting  and  sustaining  it,  if  it  be  in  our  power,  in 
the  interest  of  dogmatic  truth.  I  should  wish  to  avoid 
every  thing,  except  (indeed)  under  the  direct  call  of  duty, 
(and  this  is  a  material  exception,))  which  went  to  weaken 
its  hold  upon  the  public  mind,  or  to  unsettle  its  establish-  so 
ment,  or  to  embarrass  and  lessen  its  maintenance  of  those 
great  Christian  and  Catholic  principles  and  doctrines  which 
it  has  up  to  this  time  successfully  preached. 

[I  say,  "  except  under  the  call  of  duty  ;  "  and  this 
exception,  I  am  obliged  to  admit,  is  not  a  slight  one  ;  it 
is  one  which  necessarily  places  a  bar  to  any  closer  relation 
between  it  and  ourselves,  than  that  of  an  armed  truce. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  it  stands  to  reason  that  even  a 

28  ,  except]    except 

34  The  matter  between  (],  pp.  396-400  ,was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


APPENDIX.  397 

volume,  such  as  this  has  been,  exerts  an  influence  adverse 
to  the  Establishment, — at  least  in  the  case  of  many  minds  ; 
and  this  I  cannot  avoid,  though  I  have  sincerely  attempted 
to  keep  as  wide  of  controversy  in  the  course  of  it,  as  ever 
I  could.  And  next  I  cannot  deny,  what  must  be  ever 
a  very  sore  point  with  Anglicans,  that,  if  any  Anglican 
comes  to  me  after  careful  thought  and  prayer,  and  with 
deliberate  purpose,  and  says,  "  I  believe  in  the  Holy 
Catholic  Church,  and  that  your  Church  and  yours  alone  is 
10  it,  and  I  demand  admittance  into  it,"  it  would  be  the 
greatest  of  sins  in  me  to  reject  such  a  man,  as  being  a  dis 
tinct  contravention  of  our  Lord's  maxim,  "  Freely  ye  have 
received,  freely  give." 

I  have  written  three  volumes  which  may  be  considered 
controversial  ;  Loss  and  Gain  in  1847  ;  Lectures  on 
Difficulties  felt  by  Anglicans  in  submitting  to  the  Catholic 
Church  in  1850  ;  and  Lectures  on  the  present  Position  of 
Catholics  in  England  in  1851.  And  though  I  have  neither 
time  nor  need  to  go  into  the  matter  minutely,  a  few  words 

20  will  suffice  for  some  general  account  of  what  has  been  my 
object  and  my  tone  in  these  works  severally. 

Of  these  three,  the  Lectures  on  the  "  Position  of  Catholics" 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Church  of  England,  as  such  ; 
they  are  directed  against  the  Protestant  or  Ultra-Pro 
testant  Tradition  on  the  subject  of  Catholicism  since  the 
time  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  in  which  parties  indeed  in  the 
Church  of  England  have  largely  participated,  but  which 
cannot  be  confused  with  Anglican  teaching  itself.  Much 
less  can  that  Tradition  be  confused  with  the  doctrine  of 

so  the  Laudian  or  of  the  Tractarian  School.  I  owe  nothing 
to  Protestantism  ;  and  I  spoke  against  it  even  when  I  was 
an  Anglican,  as  well  as  in  these  Catholic  Lectures.  If 
I  spoke  in  them  against  the  Church  Established,  it  was 
because,  and  so  far  as,  at  the  time  when  they  were  delivered, 
the  Establishment  took  a  violent  part  against  the  Catholic 
Church,  on  the  basis  of  the  Protestant  Tradition.  More 
over,  I  had  never  as  an  Anglican  been  a  lover  of  the  actual 
Establishment ;  Hurrell  Froude's  Remains,  in  which  it  is 
called  an  "  incubus  "  and  "  Upas  Tree,"  will  stand  in 

40  evidence,  as  for  him,  so  for  me  ;    for  I  was  one  of  the 


398  APPENDIX. 

Editors.  What  I  said  even  as  an  Anglican,  it  is  not  strange 
that  I  said  when  I  was  not.  Indeed  I  have  been  milder  in 
my  thoughts  of  the  Establishment  ever  since  I  have  been 
a  Catholic  than  before,  and  for  an  obvious  reason  ; — 
when  I  was  an  Anglican,  I  viewed  it  as  repressing  a  higher 
doctrine  than  its  own  ;  and  now  I  view  it  as  keeping  out 
a  lower  and  more  dangerous. 

Then  as  to  rny  Lectures  on  Anglican  Difficulties.  Neither 
were  these  formally  directed  against  the  National  Church. 
They  were  addressed  to  the  "  Children  of  the  Movement  10 
of  1833,"  to  impress  upon  them,  that,  whatever  was  the 
case  with  others,  their  duty  at  least  was  to  become  Catholics, 
since  Catholicism  was  the  real  scope  and  issue  of  that 
Movement.  "There  is  but  one  thing,"  I  say,  "that 
forces  me  to  speak.  ...  It  will  be  a  miserable  thing  for 
you  and  for  me,  if  I  have  been  instrumental  in  bringing 
you  but  half-way,  if  I  have  co-operated  in  removing  your 
invincible  ignorance,  but  am  able  to  do  no  more." — p.  5. 
Such  being  the  drift  of  the  Volume,  the  reasoning  directed 
against  the  Church  of  England  goes  no  further  than  this,  20 
that  it  had  no  claims  whatever  on  such  of  its  members  as 
were  proceeding  onwards  with  the  Movement  into  the 
Catholic  Church. 

Lastly,  as  to  Loss  and  Gain  :  it  is  the  story,  simply 
ideal,  of  the  conversion  of  an  Oxford  man.  Its  drift  is  to 
show  how  little  there  is  in  Anglicanism  to  satisfy  and 
retain  a  young  and  earnest  heart.  In  this  Tale,  all  the  best 
characters  are  sober  Church-of -England  people.  No  Trac- 
tarians  proper  are  introduced  :  and  this  is  noted  in  the 
Advertisement  :  "No  proper  representative  is  intended  in 30 
this  Tale,  of  the  religious  opinions,  which  had  lately  so 
much  influence  in  the  University  of  Oxford."  There  could 
not  be  such  in  the  Tale,  without  the  introduction  of  friends, 
which  was  impossible  in  its  very  notion.  But,  since  the 
scene  was  to  be  laid  during  the  very  years,  and  at  the 
head-quarters,  of  Tract arianism,  some  expedient  was  neces 
sary  in  order  to  meet  what  was  a  great  difficulty.  My 
expedient  was  the  introduction  of  what  may  be  called 
Tractarians  improper  ;  and  I  took  them  the  more  readily, 
because,  though  I  knew  that  such  there  were,  I  knew  40 
none  of  them  personally.  I  mean  such  men  as  I  used  to 


APPENDIX.  399 

consider  of  "  the  gilt-gingerbread  school,"  from  whom 
I  expected  little  good,  persons  whose  religion  lay  in 
ritualism  or  architecture,  and  who  "played  at  Popery" 
or  at  Anglicanism.  I  repeat  I  knew  no  such  men,  because 
it  is  one  thing  to  desire  fine  churches  and  ceremonies,  (which 
of  course  I  did  myself,)  and  quite  another  thing  to  desire 
these  and  nothing  else  ;  but  at  that  day  there  was  in  some 
quarters,  though  not  in  those  where  I  had  influence, 
a  strong  movement  in  the  esthetic  direction.  Doubtless 

10 1  went  too  far  in  my  apprehension  of  such  a  movement  : 
for  one  of  the  best,  and  most  devoted  and  hard-working 
Priests  I  ever  knew  was  the  late  Father  Hutchison,  of  the 
London  Oratory,  and  I  believe  it  was  architecture  that 
directed  his  thoughts  towards  the  Catholic  Church.  How 
ever,  I  had  in  my  mind  an  external  religion  which  was 
inordinate  ;  and,  as  the  men  who  were  considered  instances 
of  it,  were  personally  unknown  to  me,  even  by  name, 
I  introduced  them,  under  imaginary  representatives,  in 
Loss  and  Gain,  and  that,  in  order  to  get  clear  of  Trac- 

20  tarians  proper  ;  and  of  the  three  men,  whom  I  have 
introduced,  the  Anglican  is  the  best.  In  like  manner  I 
introduced  two  "  gilt-gingerbread  "  young  ladies,  who  were 
ideal,  absolutely,  utterly,  without  a  shred  of  concrete 
existence  about  them  ;  and  I  introduced  them  with  the 
remark  that  they  were  "  really  kind  charitable  persons," 
and  "  by  no  means  put  forth  as  a  type  of  a  class,"  that 
"  among  such  persons  were  to  be  found  the  gentlest  spirits 
and  the  tenderest  hearts,"  and  that  "  these  sisters  had 
open  hands,  if  they  had  not  wise  heads,"  but  that  "  they 

so  did  not  know  much  of  matters  ecclesiastical,  and  they 
knew  less  of  themselves." 

It  has  been  said,  indeed,  I  knoiv  not  to  what  extent, 
that  I  introduced  my  friends  or  partisans  into  the  Tale  ; 
this  is  utterly  untrue.  Only  two  cases  of  this  misconcep 
tion  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  and  I  at  once  denied 
each  of  them  outright  ;  and  I  take  this  opportunity  of 
denying  generally  the  truth  of  all  other  similar  charges. 
No  friend  of  mine,  no  one  connected  in  any  way  with  the 
Movement,  entered  into  the  composition  of  any  one  of 

40  the  characters.  Indeed,  putting  aside  the  two  instances 
which  have  been  distinctly  brought  before  me,  I  have  not 


400  APPENDIX. 

even  any  sort  of  suspicion  who  the  persons  are,  whom 
I  am  thus  accused  of  introducing. 

Next,  this  writer  goes  on  to  speak  of  Tract  90  ;  a  sub 
ject  of  which  I  have  treated  at  great  length  in  a  former 
passage  of  this  narrative,  and,  in  consequence,  need  not 
take  up  again  now.] 


APPENDIX.  401 


4. 

Series  of  Lives  of  the  English  Saints. 

[I  have  given  the  history  of  this  publication  above  at 
pp.  302 — 304.  It  was  to  have  consisted  of  almost  300 
Lives,  and  I  was  to  have  been  the  Editor.  It  was  brought 
to  an  end,  before  it  was  well  begun,  by  the  act  of  friends 
who  were  frightened  at  the  first  Life  printed,  the  Life  of 
St.  Stephen  Harding.  Thus  I  was  not  responsible  except 
for  the  first  two  numbers  ;  and  the  Advertisements  dis 
tinctly  declared  this.  I  had  just  the  same  responsibility 
about  the  other  Lives,  that  my  assailant  had,  and  not 

10  a  bit  more.  However,  it  answers  his  purpose  to  consider 
me  responsible. 

Next,  I  observe,  that  his  delusion  about  "  hot-headed 
fanatic  young  men  "  continues  :  here  again  I  figure  with 
my  strolling  company.  "  They  said,"  he  observes,  "  what 
they  believed  ;  at  least,  what  they  had  been  taught  to 
believe  that  they  ought  to  believe.  And  who  had  taught 
them  ?  Dr.  Newman  can  best  answer  that  question," 
p.  38.  Well,  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  solve  the  mystery. 
Now  as  to  the  juvenile  writers  in  the  proposed  series. 

20  One  was  my  friend  Mr.  Bowden,  who  in  1843  was  a  man 
of  46  years  old  ;  he  was  to  have  written  St.  Boniface. 
Another  was  Mr.  Johnson,  a  man  of  42  ;  he  was  to  have 
written  St.  Aldelm.  Another  was  the  author  of  St.  Augus 
tine  :  let  us  hear  something  about  him  from  this  writer  :— 
"Dr.  Newman,"  he  says,  "  might  have  said  to  the 
Author  of  the  Life  of  St.  Augustine,  when  he  found  him, 
in  the  heat  and  haste  of  youthful  fanaticism,  outraging 
historic  truth  and  the  law  of  evidence,  '  This  must  not 
be.'  "—p.  38. 

30  Good.  This  juvenile  was  past  40, — well,  say  39.  Blot 
seventeen.  "  This  must  not  be."  This  is  what  I  ought  to 
have  said,  it  seems  !  And  then,  you  see,  I  have  not  the 
talent,  and  never  had,  of  some  people,  for  lecturing  my 
equals,  much  less  men  twenty  years  older  than  myself. 

The  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  401-6,  was  not  reprinted  in  I8fi5. 
23  Aldelm  cf.  Aldhelm  pp.  304,  506,  511. 


402  APPENDIX. 

But  again,  the  author  of  St.  Augustine's  Life  distinctly 
says  in  his  Advertisement,  "  No  one  but  himself  is  respon 
sible  for  the  way  in  which  these  materials  have  been  used." 
Blot  eighteen. 

Thirty-three  Lives  were  actually  published.  Out  of  the 
whole  number  this  writer  notices  three.  Of  these  one  is 
"  charming  ;  "  therefore  I  am  not  to  have  the  benefit  of 
it.  Another  "outrages  historic  truth  and  the  law  of 
evidence  ;  "  therefore  "  it  was  notoriously  sanctioned  by 
Dr.  Newman."  And  the  third  was  "  one  of  the  most  10 
offensive,"  and  Dr.  Newman  must  have  formally  connected 
himself  with  it  in  "a  moment  of  amiable  weakness."— 
p.  39.  What  even-handed  justice  is  here  !  Blot  nineteen. 

But  to  return  to  the  juvenile  author  of  St.  Augustine  : — 
"  I  found,"  says  this  writer,  "  the  Life  of  St.  Augustine 
saying,  that,  though  the  pretended  visit  of  St.  Peter  to 
England  wanted  historic  evidence,  '  yet  it  has  undoubtedly 
been  received  as  a  pious  opinion  by  the  Church  at  large, 
as  we  learn  from  the  often-quoted  words  of  St.  Innocent  I. 
(who  wrote  A.D.  416)  that  St.  Peter  was  instrumental  in  20 
the  conversion  of  the  West  generally.'  " — p.  39.  He 
brings  this  passage  against  me  (with  which,  however, 
I  have  nothing  more  to  do  than  he  has)  as  a  great  mis 
demeanour  ;  but  let  us  see  what  his  criticism  is  worth. 
"  And  this  sort  of  argument,"  continues  the  passage, 
"  though  it  ought  to  be  kept  quite  distinct  from  docu 
mentary  and  historic  proof,  will  not  be  without  its  effect 
on  devout  minds,"  &c.  I  should  have  thought  this  a  very 
sober  doctrine,  viz.  that  we  must  not  confuse  together  two 
things  quite  distinct  from  each  other,  criticism  and  devotion,  so 
proof  and  opinion, — that  a  devout  mind  will  hold  opinions 
which  it  cannot  demonstrate  by  "  historic  proof"  What, 
I  ask,  is  the  harm  of  saying  this  ?  Is  this  my  Assailant's 
definition  of  opinion,  "a  thing  which  can  be  proved?" 
I  cannot  answer  for  him,  but  I  can  answer  for  men  in 
general.  Let  him  read  Sir  David  Brewster's  "  More  Worlds 
than  One  ;  " — this  principle,  which  is  so  shocking  to  my 
assailant,  is  precisely  the  argument  of  Sir  David's  book  ; 
he  tells  us  that  the  plurality  of  worlds  cannot  be  proved, 
but  will  be  received  by  religious  men.  He  asks,  p.  229,  40 


APPENDIX.  403 

"  //  the  stars  are  not  suns,  for  what  conceivable  purpose 
were  they  created  ?  "  and  then  he  lays  down  dogmatically, 
p.  254,  "  There  is  no  opinion,  out  of  the  region  of  pure 
demonstration,  more  universally  cherished  than  the  doctrine 
of  the  Plurality  of  worlds."  And  in  his  Title-page  he  styles 
this  "  opinion  "  "  the  creed  of  the  philosopher  and  the 
hope  of  the  Christian."  If  Brewster  may  bring  devotion 
into  Astronomy,  why  may  not  my  friend  bring  it  into 
History  ?  and  that  the  more,  when  he  actually  declares 
10  that  it  ought  to  be  kept  quite  distinct  from  history,  and  by 
no  means  assumes  that  he  is  an  historian  because  he  is 
a  hagiographer  ;  whereas,  somehow  or  other,  Sir  David 
does  seem  to  me  to  show  a  zeal  greater  than  becomes 
a  savant,  and  to  assume  that  he  himself  is  a  theologian 
because  he  is  an  astronomer.  This  writer  owes  Sir  David 
as  well  as  me  an  apology.  Blot  twenty. 

He  ought  to  wish  his  original  charge  against  me  in  the 
Magazine  dead  and  buried  ;  but  he  has  the  good  sense 
and  good  taste  to  revive  it  again  and  again.  This  is  one 
20  of  the  places  which  he  has  chosen  for  it.  Let  him  then, 
just  for  a  change,  substitute  Sir  David  Brewster  for  me  in 
his  sentence  ;  Sir  David  has  quite  as  much  right  to  the 
compliment  as  I  have,  as  far  as  this  Life  of  St.  Augustine 
is  concerned.  Then  he  will  be  saying,  that,  because  Sir 
David  teaches  that  the  belief  in  more  worlds  than  one  is 
a  pious  opinion,  and  not  a  demonstrated  fact,  he  "  does 
not  care  for  truth  for  its  own  sake,  or  teach  men  to  regard 
it  as  a  virtue,"  p.  38-9.  Blot  twenty-one. 

However,  he  goes  on  to  give  in  this  same  page  one 
30  other  evidence  of  my  disregard  of  truth.  The  author  of 
St.  Augustine's  Life  also  asks  the  following  question  : 
"  On  what  evidence  do  we  put  faith  in  the  existence  of 
St.  George,  the  patron  of  England  ?  Upon  such,  assuredly, 
as  an  acute  critic  or  skilful  pleader  might  easily  scatter  to 
the  winds  ;  the  belief  of  prejudiced  or  credulous  witnesses, 
the  unwritten  record  of  empty  pageants  and  bauble  decora 
tions.  On  the  side  of  scepticism  might  be  exhibited 
a  powerful  array  of  suspicious  legends  and  exploded  acts. 
Yet,  after  all,  what  Catholic  is  there  but  would  count  it 


404  APPENDIX. 

a  profaneness  to  question  the  existence  of  St.  George  ?  " 
On  which  my  assailant  observes,  "  When  I  found  Dr. 
Newman  allowing  his  disciples  ...  in  page  after  page,  in 
Life  after  Life,  to  talk  nonsense  of  this  kind  which  is  not 
only  sheer  Popery,  but  saps  the  very  foundation  of  historic 
truth,  was  it  so  wonderful  that  I  conceived  him  to  have 
taught  and  thought  like  them  ?  "  p.  39,  that  is,  to  have 
taught  lying. 

Well  and  good  ;    here  again  take  a  parallel  ;    not  St. 
George,  but  Lycurgus.  10 

Mr.  Grote  says  :  "  Plutarch  begins  his  biography  of 
Lycurgus  with  the  following  ominous  words  :  *  Concern 
ing  the  lawgiver  Lycurgus,  we  can  assert  absolutely  nothing, 
which  is  not  controverted.  There  are  different  stories  in 
respect  to  his  birth,  his  travels,  his  death,  and  also  his 
mode  of  proceeding,  political  as  well  as  legislative  :  least 
of  all  is  the  time  in  which  he  lived  agreed  on.'  And  this 
exordium  is  but  too  well  borne  out  by  the  unsatisfactory 
nature  of  the  accounts  which  we  read,  not  only  in  Plutarch 
himself,  but  in  those  other  authors,  out  of  whom  we  are  20 
obliged  to  make  up  our  idea  of  the  memorable  Lycurgian 
system." — Greece,  vol.  ii.  p.  455.  But  Bishop  Thirlwall 
says,  "  Experience  proves  that  scarcely  any  amount  of 
variation,  as  to  the  time  or  circumstances  of  a  fact,  in  the 
authors  who  record  it,  can  be  a  sufficient  ground  for  doubting 
its  reality." — Greece,  vol.  i.  p.  332. 

Accordingly,  my  assailant  is  virtually  saying  of  the 
latter  of  these  two  historians,  "  When  I  found  the  Bishop 
of  St.  David's  talking  nonsense  of  this  kind,  which  saps 
the  very  foundation  of  historic  truth,"  was  it  "  hasty  or  30 
far-fetched  "  to  conclude  "  that  he  did  not  care  for  truth 
for  its  own  sake,  or  teach  his  disciples  to  regard  it  as 
a  virtue  ?  "  p.  38-9.  Nay,  further,  the  Author  of  St.  Augus 
tine  is  no  more  a  disciple  of  mine,  than  the  Bishop  of 
St.  David's  is  of  my  Assailant's,  and  therefore  the  parallel 
will  be  more  exact  if  I  accuse  this  Professor  of  History  of 
teaching  Dr.  Thirlwall  not  to  care  for  truth,  as  a  virtue,  for 
its  own  sake.  Blot  twenty-two. 

It  is  hard  on  me  to  have  this  dull,  profitless  work,  but 
I  have  pledged  myself  ; — so  now  for  St.  Walburga.  *o 


APPENDIX.  405 

Now  will  it  be  believed  that  this  Writer  suppresses  the 
fact  that  the  miracles  of  St.  Walburga  are  treated  by  the 
author  of  her  Life  as  mythical  ?  yet  that  is  the  tone  of 
the  whole  composition.  This  Writer  can  notice  it  in  the 
Life  of  St.  Neot,  the  first  of  the  three  Lives  which  he  criti 
cizes  ;  these  are  his  words  :  "  Some  of  them,  the  writers, 
for  instance,  of  Volume  4,  which  contains,  among  others, 
a  charming  life  of  St.  Neot,  treat  the  stories  openly  as 
legends  and  myths,  and  tell  them  as  they  stand,  without 

10  asking  the  reader,  or  themselves,  to  believe  them  altogether. 
The  method  is  harmless  enough,  if  the  legends  had  stood 
alone  ;  but  dangerous  enough,  when  they  stand  side  by 
side  with  stories  told  in  earnest,  like  that  of  St.  Walburga." 
— p.40. 

Now,  first,  that  the  miraculous  stories  are  treated,  in 
the  Life  of  St.  Walburga,  as  legends  and  myths.  Through 
out,  the  miracles  and  extraordinary  occurrences  are  spoken 
of  as  "  said  "  or  "  reported  ;  "  and  the  suggestion  is  made 
that,  even  though  they  occurred,  they  might  have  been 

20  after  all  natural.  Thus,  in  one  of  the  very  passages  which 
my  Assailant  quotes,  the  author  says,  "  Illuminated  men 
feel  the  privileges  of  Christianity,  and  to  them  the  evil 
influence  of  Satanic  power  is  horribly  discernible,  like  the 
Egyptian  darkness  which  could  be  felt ;  and  the  only  way 
to  express  their  keen  perception  of  it  is  to  say,  that  they 
see  upon  the  countenances  of  the  slaves  of  sin,  the  marks, 
and  lineaments,  and  stamp  of  the  evil  one  ;  and  [that] 
they  smell  with  their  nostrils  the  horrible  fumes  that  arise 
from  their  vices  and  uncleansed  heart,"  &c.,  p.  78.  This 

30  introduces  St.  Sturme  and  the  gambolling  Germans  ;  what 
does  it  mean  but  that  "  the  intolerable  scent  "  was  nothing 
physical,  or  strictly  miraculous,  but  the  horror,  parallel 
to  physical  distress,  with  which  the  Saint  was  affected, 
from  his  knowledge  of  the  state  of  their  souls  ?  My  assailant 
is  a  lucky  man,  if  mental  pain  has  never  come  upon  him 
with  a  substance  and  a  volume,  as  forcible  as  if  it  were 
bodily. 

And  so  in  like  manner,  the  Author  of  the  Life  says,  as 
this  writer  actually  has  quoted  him,  "  a  story  was  told  and 

27  These  [  ]  are  in  1864. 


406  APPENDIX. 

believed,"  p.  94.  "  One  evening,  says  her  history,"  p.  87. 
"  Another  incident  is  thus  related"  p.  88.  "  Immediately, 
says  Wulfhard,"  p.  91.  "A  vast  number  of  other  cases 
are  recorded"  p.  92.  And  there  is  a  distinct  intimation  that 
they  may  be  myths,  in  a  passage  which  this  Assailant 
himself  quotes,  "  All  these  have  the  character  of  a  gentle 
mother  correcting  the  idleness  and  faults  of  careless  and 
thoughtless  children  with  tenderness." — p.  95.  I  think  the 
criticism  which  he  makes  upon  this  Life  is  one  of  the  most 
wanton  passages  in  his  Pamphlet.  The  Life  is  beautifully  10 
written,  full  of  poetry,  and,  as  I  have  said,  bears  on  its 
very  surface  the  profession  of  a  legendary  and  mythical 
character.  Blot  twenty -three. 

In  saying  all  this,  I  have  no  intention  whatever  of 
implying  that  miracles  did  not  illustrate  the  Life  of 
St.  Walburga  ;  but  neither  the  Author  nor  I  have  bound 
ourselves  to  the  belief  of  certain  instances  in  particular. 
My  Assailant,  in  the  passage  which  I  just  now  quoted  from 
him,  made  some  distinction,  which  was  apparently  intended 
to  save  St.  Neot,  while  it  condemned  St.  Walburga.  He  2u 
said  that  legends  are  "  dangerous  enough,  when  they  stand 
side  by  side  with  stories  told  in  earnest  like  St.  Walburga." 
He  will  find  he  has  here  Dr.  Milman  against  him,  as  he 
has  already  had  Sir  David  Brewster,  and  the  Bishop  of 
St.  David's.  He  accuses  me  of  having  "  outraged  historic 
truth  and  the  law  of  evidence,"  because  friends  of  mine 
have  considered  that,  though  opinions  need  not  be  con 
victions,  nevertheless  that  legends  may  be  connected  with 
history  :  now,  on  the  contrary,  let  us  hear  the  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's  : —  so 

"  History,  to  be  true,  must  condescend  to  speak  the 
language  of  legend ;  the  belief  of  the  times  is  part  of  the 
record  of  the  times  ;  and,  though  there  may  occur  what 
may  baffle  its  more  calm  and  searching  philosophy,  it  must 
not  disdain  that  which  was  the  primal,  almost  universal, 
motive  of  human  life." — Latin.  Christ.,  vol.  i.  p.  388. 
Dr.  Milman's  decision  justifies  me  in  putting  this  down  as 
Blot  twenty -Jour.] 

38  The  matter  between  [  j,  pp.  401-6,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


(ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.)  407 

(So  much  for  general  principles  ;)  [However,  there  is  one 
miraculous  account  for  which  this  writer  makes  me  directly 
answerable,  and  with  reason  ;  and  with  it  I  shall  conclude 
my  reply  to  his  criticisms  on  the  "  Lives  of  the  English 
Saints."]  (as  to  St.  Walburga,  though  I  have  no  intention 
at  all  of  denying  that  numerous  miracles  have  been  wrought 
by  her  intercession,  still,  neither  the  Author  of  her  Life, 
nor  I,  the  Editor,  felt  that  we  had  grounds  for  binding  our 
selves  to  the  belief  of  certain  alleged  miracles  in  particular. 

10 1  made,  however,  one  exception  ;)  It  is  the  medicinal  oil 
which  flows  from  the  relics  of  St.  Walburga^ 

[Now,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  remark  under  my  next 
Head,  these  two  questions  among  others  occur,  in  judging 
of  a  miraculous  story  ;  viz.  whether  the  matter  of  it  is 
extravagant,  and  whether  it  is  a  fact.]  (Now  as  to  the 
verisimilitude,  the  miraculousness,  and  the  fact,  of  this 
medicinal  oil.)  And  first,  it  is  plain  there  is  nothing 
extravagant  in  this  report  of  the  relics  having  a  super 
natural  virtue  ;  and  for  this  reason,  because  there  are  such 

20  instances  in  Scripture,  and  Scripture  cannot  be  extrava 
gant.  For  instance,  a  man  was  restored  to  life  by  touching 
the  relics  of  the  Prophet  Eliseus.  The  sacred  text  runs 
thus  :—  "  And  Elisha  died,  and  they  buried  him.  And  the 
bands  of  the  Moabites  invaded  the  land  at  the  coming  in 
of  the  year.  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  were  burying 
a  man,  that,  behold,  they  spied  a  band  of  men  ;  and  they 
cast  the  man  into  the  sepulchre  of  Elisha.  And,  when  the 
man  was  let  down,  and  touched  the  bones  of  Elisha,  he 
revived,  and  stood  upon  his  feet."  Again,  in  the  case  of 

30  an  inanimate  substance,  which  had  touched  a  living  Saint  : 
"  And  God  wrought  special  miracles  by  the  hands  of  Paul ; 
so  that  from  his  body  were  brought  unto  the  sick  handker 
chiefs  or  aprons,  and  the  diseases  departed  from  them." 
And  again  in  the  case  of  a  pool :  "  An  Angel  went  down 
at  a  certain  season  into  the  pool,  and  troubled  the  water  ; 
whosoever  then  first,  after  the  troubling  of  the  water' 
stepped  in,  was  made  whole  of  whatsoever  disease  he  had." 

M  is]  was  11  the  relics  of  St.  Walburga]  her  relics 

*•  And  first,  it]  1.  The  verisimilitude.  It  Commencing  a  new  paragraph. 
•to  the  relics]  her  relics 


408  APPENDIX. 

2  Kings  [4  Kings]  xiii.  20,  21.  Acts  xix.  11,  12.  John  v.  4. 
Therefore  there  is  nothing  extravagant  in  the  character  of 
the  miracle. 

[The  main  question  then  (I  do  not  say  the  only  remain 
ing  question,  but  the  main  question)  is]  (2.  Next,)  the 
matter  of  fact : — is  there  an  oil  flowing  from  St.  Walburga's 
tomb,  which  is  medicinal  ?  To  this  question  I  confined 
myself  in  the  Preface  [to  the  Volume].  Of  the  accounts  of 
medieval  miracles,  I  said  that  there  was  no  extravagance 
in  their  general  character,  but  I  could  not  affirm  that  there  10 
was  always  evidence  for  them.  I  could  not  simply  accept 
them  as  facts,  but  I  could  not  reject  them  in  their  nature  ; 
( — }they  might  be  true,  for  they  were  not  impossible  :  but 
they  were  not  proved  to  be  true,  because  there  was  not 
trustworthy  testimony.  However,  as  to  St.  Walburga, 
I  made  one  exception,  the  fact  of  the  medicinal  oil,  since 
for  that  miracle  there  was  distinct  and  successive  testi 
mony.  And  then  I  went  on  to  give  a  chain  of  witnesses. 
It  was  my  duty  to  state  what  those  witnesses  said  in  their 
very  words  ;  [and  I  did  so  ;  they  were  in  Latin,  and  I  gave  20 
them  in  Latin.  One  of  them  speaks  of  the  "  sacrum 
oleum "  flowing  "  de  membris  ejus  virgineis,  maxime 
tamen  pectoralibus  ;  "  and  I  so  printed  it ; — if  I  had  left 
it  out,  this  sweet-tempered  Writer  would  have  accused  me 
of  an  "  economy."]  (so)  I  gave  the  testimonies  in  full, 
tracing  them  from  the  Saint's  death.  I  said,  "  She  is  one 
of  the  principal  Saints  of  her  age  and  country."  Then 
I  quoted  Basnage,  a  Protestant,  who  says,  "  Six  writers 
are  extant,  who  have  employed  themselves  in  relating  the 
deeds  or  miracles  of  Walburga."  Then  I  said  that  her  30 
"  renown  was  not  the  mere  natural  growth  of  ages,  but 
begins  with  the  very  century  of  the  Saint's  death."  Then 
I  observed  that  only  two  miracles  seem  to  have  been 
"  distinctly  reported  of  her  as  occurring  in  her  lifetime  ; 
and  they  were  handed  down  apparently  by  tradition." 
Also,  that  they  are  said  to  have  commenced  about  A.D.  777. 
Then  I  spoke  of  the  medicinal  oil  as  having  testimony  to  it 
in  893,  in  1306,  after  1450,  in  1615,  and  in  1620.  Also, 
I  said  that  Mabillon  seems  not  to  have  believed  some  of 

1  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]  8  the  Preface]  my  Preface 

36  that  they]  that  such  miracles 


(ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.)  409 

her  miracles  ;  and  that  the  earliest  witness  had  got  into 
trouble  with  his  Bishop.  And  so  I  left  it,  as  a  question  to 
be  decided  by  evidence,  not  deciding  any  thing  myself. 

What  was  the  harm  of  all  this  ?  but  my  Critic  [has] 
muddled  it  together  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner,  and 
I  am  far  from  sure  that  he  knows  himself  the  definite 
categorical  charge  which  he  intends  it  to  convey  against 
me.  One  of  his  remarks  is,  "  What  has  become  of  the 
holy  oil  for  the  last  240  years,  Dr.  Newman  does  not  say," 
10  p.  42.  Of  course  I  did  not,  because  I  did  not  know  ;  I  gave 
the  evidence  as  I  found  it ;  he  assumes  that  I  had  a  point 
to  prove,  and  then  asks  why  I  did  not  make  the  evidence 
larger  than  it  was.  [I  put  this  down  as  Blot  twenty-five.] 

1  can  tell  him  more  about  it  now  ;    the  oil  still  flows  ; 
I  have  had  some  of  it  in  my  possession  ;    it  is  medicinal 
(still)  [;    some  think  it  is  so  by  a  natural  quality,  others 
by  a  divine  gift.     Perhaps  it  is  on  the  confines  of  both.] 
(This  leads  to  the  third  head.) 

(3.  Its  miraculousness .  On  this  point,  since  I  have  been 
20  in  the  Catholic  Church,  I  have  found  there  is  a  difference 
of  opinion.  Some  persons  consider  that  the  oil  is  the 
natural  produce  of  the  rock,  and  has  ever  flowed  from 
it  ;  others,  that  by  a  divine  gift  it  flows  from  the  relics  ; 
and  others,  allowing  that  it  now  comes  naturally  from 
the  rock,  are  disposed  to  hold  that  it  was  in  its  origin 
miraculous,  as  was  the  virtue  of  the  pool  of  Bethsaida. 

This  point  must  be  settled  of  course  before  the  virtue  of 
the  oil  can  be  ascribed  to  the  sanctity  of  St.  Walburga  ; 
for  myself,  I  neither  have,  nor  ever  have  had,  the  means 
30  of  going  into  the  question  ;  but  I  will  take  the  opportunity 
of  its  having  come  before  me,  to  make  one  or  two  remarks, 
supplemental  of  what  I  have  said  on  other  occasions. 

1.  I  frankly  confess  that  the  present  advance  of  science 
tends  to  make  it  probable  that  various  facts  take  place, 
and  have  taken  place,  in  the  order  of  nature,  which  hitherto 
have  been  considered  by  Catholics  as  simply  supernatural. 

2.  Though  I  readily  make  this  admission,  it  must  not 

2  it]  the  matter  6  knows]  knew  7  intends]  intended 
19  The  matter  from  here  to  p.  415  first  appeared  in  the  1S65  edition. 


410  (NOTE  B. 

be  supposed  in  consequence  that  I  am  disposed  to  grant 
at  once,  that  every  event  was  natural  in  point  of  fact, 
which  might  have  taken  place  by  the  laws  of  nature  ;  for 
it  is  obvious,  no  Catholic  can  bind  the  Almighty  to  act 
only  in  one  and  the  same  way,  or  to  the  observance  always 
of  His  own  laws.  An  event  which  is  possible  in  the  way 
of  nature,  is  certainly  possible  too  to  Divine  Power  without 
the  sequence  of  natural  cause  and  effect  at  all.  A  con 
flagration,  to  take  a  parallel,  may  be  the  work  of  an  incen 
diary,  or  the  result  of  a  flash  of  lightning  ;  nor  would  10 
a  jury  think  it  safe  to  find  a  man  guilty  of  arson,  if  a 
dangerous  thunderstorm  was  raging  at  the  very  time  when 
the  fire  broke  out.  In  like  manner,  upon  the  hypothesis 
that  a  miraculous  dispensation  is  in  operation,  a  recovery 
from  diseases  to  which  medical  science  is  equal,  may 
nevertheless  in  matter  of  fact  have  taken  place,  not  by 
natural  means,  but  by  a  supernatural  interposition.  That 
the  Lawgiver  always  acts  through  His  own  laws,  is  an 
assumption,  of  which  I  never  saw  proof.  In  a  given  case, 
then,  the  possibility  of  assigning  a  human  cause  for  an  20 
event  does  not  ipso  facto  prove  that  it  is  not  miraculous. 

3.  So  far,  however,  is  plain,  that,  till  some  experimentum 
crucis  can  be  found,  such  as  to  be  decisive  against  the 
natural  cause  or  the  supernatural,  an  occurrence  of  this 
kind  will  as  little  convince  an  unbeliever  that  there  has 
been  a  divine  interference  in  the  case,  as  it  will  drive 
the  Catholic  to  admit  that  there  has  been  no  interference 
at  all. 

4.  Still  there  is  this  gain  accruing  to  the  Catholic  cause 
from  the  larger  views  we  now  possess  of  the  operation  of  so 
natural  causes,  viz.  that  our  opponents  will  not  in  future 
be  so  ready  as  hitherto,  to  impute  fraud  and  falsehood  to 
our  priests  and  their  witnesses,  on  the  ground  of  their 
pretending  or  reporting  things  that  are  incredible.     Our 
opponents  have  again  and  again  accused  us  of  false  witness, 
on  account  of  statements  which  they  now  allow  are  either 
true,  or  may  have  been  true.     They  account  indeed  for 
the  strange  facts  very  differently  from  us  ;    but  still  they 
allow  that  facts  they  were.    It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  our 
characters  cleared  ;    and  we  may  reasonably  hope  that,  40 
the  next  time  our  word  is  vouched  for  occurrences  which 


ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.)  411 

appear  to  be  miraculous,  our  facts  will  be  investigated, 
not  our  testimony  impugned. 

5.  Even  granting  that  certain  occurrences,  which  we 
have  hitherto  accounted  miraculous,  have  not  absolutely 
a  claim  to  be  so  considered,  nevertheless  they  constitute 
an  argument  still  in  behalf  of  Revelation  and  the  Church. 
Providences,  or  what  are  called  grazie,  though  they  do  not 
rise  to  the  order  of  miracles,  yet,  if  they  occur  again  and 
again  in  connexion  with  the  same  persons,  institutions,  or 
10  doctrines,  may  supply  a  cumulative  evidence  of  the  fact 
of  a  supernatural  presence  in  the  quarter  in  which  they 
are  found.  I  have  already  alluded  to  this  point  in  my 
Essay  on  Ecclesiastical  Miracles,  and  I  have  a  particular 
reason,  as  will  presently  be  seen,  for  referring  here  to 
what  I  said  in  the  course  of  it. 

In  that  Essay,  after  bringing  its  main  argument  to  an 
end,  I  append  to  it  a  review  of  "  the  evidence  for  par 
ticular  alleged  miracles."  '  It  does  not  strictly  fall  within 
the  scope  of  the  Essay,"  I  observe,  "to  pronounce  upon 

20  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  this  or  that  miraculous  narrative, 
as  it  occurs  in  ecclesiastical  history  ;  but  only  to  furnish 
such  general  considerations,  as  may  be  useful  in  forming 
a  decision  in  particular  cases,"  p.  cv.  However,  I  thought 
it  right  to  go  farther  and  "  to  set  down  the  evidence  for 
and  against  certain  miracles  as  we  meet  with  them,"  ibid. 
In  discussing  these  miracles  separately,  I  make  the  follow 
ing  remarks,  to  which  I  have  just  been  referring. 

After  discussing  the  alleged  miracle  of  the  Thundering 
Legion,  I  observe  : — "  Nor  does  it  concern  us  much  to 

so  answer  the  objection,  that  there  is  nothing  strictly  miracu- 
1  ous  in  such  an  occurrence,  because  sudden  thunder 
clouds  after  drought  are  not  unfrequent ;  for,  I  would 
answer,  Grant  me  such  miracles  ordinarily  in  the  early 
Church,  and  I  will  ask  no  other  ;  grant  that,  upon  prayer, 
benefits  are  vouchsafed,  deliverances  are  effected,  unhoped 
for  results  obtained,  sicknesses  cured,  tempests  laid,  pesti 
lences  put  to  flight,  famines  remedied,  judgments  inflicted, 
and  there  will  be  no  need  of  analyzing  the  causes,  whether 
supernatural  or  natural,  to  which  they  are  to  be  referred. 

40  They  may,  or  they  may  not,  in  this  or  that  case,  follow  or 


412  (NOTE  B. 

surpass  the  laws  of  nature,  and  they  may  do  so  plainly  or 
doubtfully,  but  the  common  sense  of  mankind  will  call 
them  miraculous  ;  for  by  a  miracle  is  popularly  meant, 
whatever  be  its  formal  definition,  an  event  which  impresses 
upon  the  mind  the  immediate  presence  of  the  Moral 
Governor  of  the  world.  He  may  sometimes  act  through 
nature,  sometimes  beyond  or  against  it ;  but  those  who 
admit  the  fact  of  such  interferences,  will  have  little  diffi 
culty  in  admitting  also  their  strictly  miraculous  character, 
if  the  circumstances  of  the  case  require  it,  and  those  who  10 
deny  miracles  to  the  early  Church  will  be  equally  strenuous 
against  allowing  her  the  grace  of  such  intimate  influence 
(if  we  may  so  speak)  upon  the  course  of  divine  Providence, 
as  is  here  in  question,  even  though  it  be  not  miraculous. "- 
p.  cxxi. 

And  again,  speaking  of  the  death  of  Arius  :  "  But  after 
all,  was  it  a  miracle  ?  for,  if  not,  we  are  labouring  at 
a  proof  of  which  nothing  comes.  The  more  immediate 
answer  to  this  question  has  already  been  suggested  several 
times.  When  a  Bishop  with  his  flock  prays  night  and  day  20 
against  a  heretic,  and  at  length  begs  of  God  to  take  him 
away,  and  when  he  is  suddenly  taken  away,  almost  at 
the  moment  of  his  triumph,  and  that  by  a  death  awfully 
significant,  from  its  likeness  to  one  recorded  in  Scripture, 
is  it  not  trifling  to  ask  whether  such  an  occurrence  comes 
up  to  the  definition  of  a  miracle  ?  The  question  is  not 
whether  it  is  formally  a  miracle,  but  whether  it  is  an 
event,  the  like  of  which  persons,  who  deny  that  miracles 
continue,  will  consent  that  the  Church  should  be  con 
sidered  still  able  to  perform.  If  they  are  willing  to  allow  30 
to  the  Church  such  extraordinary  protection,  it  is  for  them 
to  draw  the  line  to  the  satisfaction  of  people  in  general, 
between  these  and  strictly  miraculous  events  ;  if ,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  deny  their  occurrence  in  the  times  of  the 
Church,  then  there  is  sufficient  reason  for  our  appealing 
here  to  the  history  of  Arius  in  proof  of  the  affirmative." 
—p.  clxxii. 

These  remarks,  thus  made  upon  the  Thundering  Legion 
and  the  death  of  Arius,  must  be  applied,  in  consequence 
of  investigations  made  since  the  date  of  my  Essay,  to  the  40 
apparent  miracle  wrought  in  favour  of  the  African  con- 


ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.)  413 

fessors  in  the  Vandal  persecution.  Their  tongues  were  cut 
out  by  the  Arian  tyrant,  and  yet  they  spoke  as  before. 
In  my  Essay  I  insisted  on  this  fact  as  being  strictly  miracu 
lous.  Among  other  remarks  (referring  to  the  instances 
adduced  by  Middleton  and  others  in  disparagement  of  the 
miracle,  viz.  of  "a  girl  born  without  a  tongue,  who  yet 
talked  as  distinctly  and  easily,  as  if  she  had  enjoyed  the 
full  benefit  of  that  organ,"  and  of  a  boy  who  lost  his 
tongue  at  the  age  of  eight  or  nine,  yet  retained  his  speech, 

10  whether  perfectly  or  not,)  I  said,  "  Does  Middleton  mean 
to  say,  that,  if  certain  of  men  lost  their  tongues  at  the 
command  of  a  tyrant  for  the  sake  of  their  religion,  and  then 
spoke  as  plainly  as  before,  nay  if  only  one  person  was  so 
mutilated  and  so  gifted,  it  would  not  be  a  miracle  ?  " 
p.  ccx.  And  I  enlarged  upon  the  minute  details  of  the 
fact  as  reported  to  us  by  eye-witnesses  and  contemporaries. 
'  Out  of  the  seven  writers  adduced,  six  are  contemporaries  ; 
three,  if  not  four,  are  eye-witnesses  of  the  miracle.  One 
reports  from  an  eye-witness,  and  one  testifies  to  a  fervent 

20  record  at  the  burial-place  of  the  subjects  of  it.  All  seven 
were  living,  or  had  been  staying,  at  one  or  other  of  the 
two  places  which  are  mentioned  as  their  abode.  One  is 
a  Pope,  a  second  a  Catholic  Bishop,  a  third  a  Bishop 
of  a  schismatical  party,  a  fourth  an  emperor,  a  fifth  a 
soldier,  a  politician,  and  a  suspected  infidel,  a  sixth  a  states 
man  and  courtier,  a  seventh  a  rhetorician  and  philosopher. 
'  He  cut  out  the  tongues  by  the  roots,'  says  Victor,  Bishop 
of  Vito  ;  '  I  perceived  the  tongues  entirely  gone  by  the 
roots,'  says  ^Eneas  ;  '  as  low  down  as  the  throat,'  says 

so  Procopius  ;  '  at  the  roots,'  say  Justinian  and  St.  Gregory  ; 
1  he  spoke  like  an  educated  man,  without  impediment/ 
says  Victor  of  Vito  ;  '  with  articulateness,'  says  JSneas  ; 
'  better  than  before  ;  '  '  they  talked  without  any  impedi 
ment,'  says  Procopius  ;  '  speaking  with  perfect  voice,' 
says  Marcellinus  ;  '  they  spoke  perfectly,  even  to  the  end/ 
says  the  second  Victor  ;  '  the  words  were  formed,  full, 
and  perfect/  says  St.  Gregory." — p.  ccviii. 

However,  a  few  years  ago  an  Article  appeared  in  "  Notes 
and  Queries  "  (No.  for  May  22,  1858),  in  which  various 

40  evidence  was  adduced  to  show  that  the  tongue  is  not 
necessary  for  articulate  speech. 


414  (NOTE  B. 

1.  Col.  Churchill,  in  his  "  Lebanon,"  speaking  of  the 
cruelties  of  Djezzar  Pacha,  in  extracting  to  the  root  the 
tongues  of  some  Emirs,  adds,  "  It  is  a  curious  fact,  how 
ever,   that   the   tongues   grow   again   sufficiently  for   the 
purposes  of  speech." 

2.  Sir   John   Malcolm,   in   his    "  Sketches   of   Persia," 
speaks  of  Zab,  Khan  of  Khisht,  who  was  condemned  to  lose 
his  tongue.     "  This  mandate,"  he  says,  "  was  imperfectly 
executed,  and  the  loss  of  half  this  member  deprived  him 
of  speech.     Being  afterwards  persuaded  that  its  being  cut  10 
close  to  the  root  would  enable  him  to  speak  so  as  to  be 
understood,  he  submitted  to  the  operation  ;   and  the  effect 
has  been,  that  his  voice,  though  indistinct  and  thick,  is 
yet  intelligible  to  persons  accustomed  to  converse  with 
him.  ...  I  am  not  an  anatomist,  and  I  cannot  therefore 
give  a  reason,  why  a  man,  who  could  not  articulate  with 
half  a  tongue,  should  speak  when  he  had  none  at  all ;   but 
the  facts  are  as  stated." 

3.  And  Sir  John  McNeill  says,   "  In  answer  to  your 
inquiries  about  the  powers  of  speech  retained  by  persons  20 
who  have  had  their  tongues  cut  out,  I  can  state  from 
personal  observation,  that  several  persons  whom  I  knew 
in  Persia,  who  had  been  subjected  to  that  punishment, 
spoke  so  intelligibly  as  to  be  able  to  transact  important 
business.  .  .  .  The  conviction  in  Persia  is  universal,  that 
the  power  of  speech  is  destroyed  by  merely  cutting  off  the 
tip  of  the  tongue  ;    and  is  to  a  useful  extent  restored  by 
cutting  off  another  portion  as  far  back  as  a  perpendicular 
section  can  be  made  of  the  portion  that  is  free  from  attach 
ment  at  the  lower  surface.  ...  I  never  had  to  meet  with  so 
a  person  who  had  suffered  this  punishment,  who  could 
not  speak  so   as   to  be   quite  intelligible  to   his  familiar 
associates." 

I  should  not  be  honest,  if  I  professed  to  be  simply  con 
verted,  by  these  testimonies,  to  the  belief  that  there  was 
nothing  miraculous  in  the  case  of  the  African  confessors. 
It  is  quite  as  fair  to  be  sceptical  on  one  side  of  the  question 
as  on  the  other  ;  and  if  Gibbon  is  considered  worthy  of 
praise  for  his  stubbc:  n  incredulity  in  receiving  the  evidence 
for  this  miracle,  I  do  not  see  why  I  am  to  be  blamed,  if  40 


ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.)  415 

I  wish  to  be  quite  sure  of  the  full  appositeness  of  the  recent 
evidence  which  is  brought  to  its  disadvantage.  Questions 
of  fact  cannot  be  disproved  by  analogies  or  presumptions  ; 
the  inquiry  must  be  made  into  the  particular  case  in  all 
its  parts,  as  it  comes  before  us.  Meanwhile,  I  fully  allow 
that  the  points  of  evidence  brought  in  disparagement  of 
the  miracle  are  primd  facie  of  such  cogency,  that,  till  they 
are  proved  to  be  irrelevant,  Catholics  are  prevented  from 
appealing  to  it  for  controversial  purposes.) 


416  APPENDIX. 

5. 

Ecclesiastical  Miracles. 

[What  is  the  use  of  going  on  with  this  Writer's  criticisms 
upon  me,  when  I  am  confined  to  the  dull  monotony  of 
exposing  and  oversetting  him  again  and  again,  with  a  per 
sistence,  which  many  will  think  merciless,  and  few  will 
have  the  interest  to  read  ?  Yet  I  am  obliged  to  do  so,  lest 
I  should  seem  to  be  evading  difficulties. 

Now  as  to  Miracles.]  Catholics  believe  that  they  happen 
in  any  age  of  the  Church,  though  not  for  the  same  pur 
poses,  in  the  same  number,  or  with  the  same  evidence,  as 
in  Apostolic  times.  The  Apostles  wrought  them  in  evidence  10 
of  their  divine  mission  ;  and  with  this  object  they  have 
been  sometimes  wrought  by  Evangelists  of  countries  since, 
as  even  Protestants  allow.  Hence  we  hear  of  them  in  the 
history  of  St.  Gregory  in  Pontus,  and  St.  Martin  in  Gaul  ; 
and  in  their  case,  as  in  that  of  the  Apostles,  they  were 
both  numerous  and  clear.  As  they  are  granted  to  Evan 
gelists,  so  are  they  granted,  though  in  less  measure  and 
evidence,  to  other  holy  men  ;  and  as  holy  men  are  not 
found  equally  at  all  times  and  in  all  places,  therefore 
miracles  are  in  some  places  and  times  more  than  in  others.  20 
And  since,  generally,  they  are  granted  to  faith  and  prayer, 
therefore  in  a  country  in  which  faith  and  prayer  abound, 
they  will  be  more  likely  to  occur,  than  where  and  when 
faith  and  prayer  are  not  ;  so  that  their  occurrence  is 
irregular.  And  further,  as  faith  and  prayer  obtain  miracles, 
so  still  more  commonly  do  they  gain  from  above  the 
ordinary  interventions  of  Providence  ;  and,  as  it  is  often 
very  difficult  to  distinguish  between  a  providence  and 
a  miracle,  and  there  will  be  more  providences  than  miracles, 
hence  it  will  happen  that  many  occurrences  will  be  called  so 

5.  (in  heading}]  Note  B.    On  page  125. 

1-7  For  the  passage  in  [  ]  the  following  paragraph  was  substituted  in 
1865  :  The  writer,  who  gave  occasion  for  the  foregoing  Narrative,  was 
very  severe  with  me  for  what  1  had  said  about  Miracles  in  the  Preface 
to  the  Life  of  St.  Walburga.  I  observe  therefore  as  follows  : — 

7  they]  miracles 


(NOTE  B.)  417 

miraculous,  which,  strictly  speaking,  are  not  such,  and  not 
more  than  providential  mercies,  or  what  are  sometimes 
called  "  graces  "  or  "  favours." 

Persons,  who  believe  all  this,  in  accordance  with  Catholic 
teaching,  as  I  did  and  do,  they,  on  the  report  of  a  miracle, 
will  of  necessity,  the  necessity  of  good  logic,  be  led  to  say, 
first,  "  It  may  be,"  and  secondly,  "  But  I  must  have  good 
evidence  in  order  to  believe  it."  (1.)  It  may  be,  because 
miracles  take  place  in  all  ages  ;  it  must  be  clearly  proved, 

10  because  perhaps  after  all  it  may  be  only  a  providential 
mercy,  or  an  exaggeration,  or  a  mistake,  or  an  imposture. 
Well,  this  is  precisely  what  I  have  said,  which  this  Writer 
considers  so  irrational.  I  have  said,  as  he  quotes  me, 
[p.  41,]  "  In  this  day,  and  under  our  present  circumstances, 
we  can  only  reply,  that  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should 
not  be."  Surely  this  is  good  logic,  provided  that  miracles 
do  occur  in  all  ages  ;  and  so  again  is  it  logical  to  say, 
"  There  is  nothing,  primd  facie,  in  the  miraculous  accounts 
in  question,  to  repel  a  properly  taught  or  religiously  dis- 

20  posed  mind."  What  is  the  matter  with  this  statement  ? 
My  assailant  does  not  pretend  to  say  what  the  matter  is, 
and  he  cannot  ;  but  he  expresses  a  rude,  unmeaning 
astonishment.  [Next,  I  stated  what  evidence  there  is  for 
the  miracles  of  which  I  was  speaking  ;  what  is  the  harm 
of  that  ?  He  observes,  "  What  evidence  Dr.  Newman 
requires,  he  makes  evident  at  once.  He  at  least  will  fear 
for  himself,  and  swallow  the  whole  as  it  comes."  —  pp.  41-2. 
What  random  abuse  is  this,  or,  to  use  his  own  words  of  me 
just  before,  what  "  stuff  and  nonsense  !  "  What  is  it  I  am 

so  "  swallowing  "  ?  "  the  whole  "  what  ?  the  evidence  ?  or 
the  miracles  ?  I  have  swallowed  neither,  nor  implied  any 
such  thing.  Blot  twenty  -six.] 

But  to  return  :  I  have  just  said  that  a  Catholic's  state 
of  mind,  of  logical  necessity,  will  be,  "  It  may  be  a  miracle, 

1  and]  that  is,  3  "  graces  "]  "  grazie  " 

8  1.  It  may  be,  This  commenced  a  new  paragraph  in  1865. 

12,  13  have  (twice)}  had 

12-13  this  Writer  considers]  the  writer,  who  has  given  occasion  to  this 
Volume,  considered  17  is  it  logical  to  say]  I  am  logical  in  saying 

33-34  But  to  return  :  .  .  .  may  be  a  miracle,  but]  2.  But,  though  a 
miracle  be  conceivable, 


APOLOGIA 


418  APPENDIX. 

but  it  has  to  be  proved  ["].  What  has  to  be  proved  ? 
1.  That  the  event  occurred  as  stated,  and  is  not  a  false 
report  or  an  exaggeration.  2.  That  it  is  clearly  miraculous, 
and  not  a  mere  providence  or  answer  to  prayer  within  the 
order  of  nature.  What  is  the  fault  of  saying  this  ?  The 
inquiry  is  parallel  to  that  which  is  made  about  some 
extraordinary  fact  in  secular  history.  Supposing  I  hear 
that  King  Charles  II.  died  a  Catholic,  I  should  say,  [1.]  It 
may  be[.  2.]  (but)  What  is  your  proof  ?  Accordingly,  in 
the  passage  which  this  writer  quotes,  I  observe,  "  Miracles  10 
are  the  kind  of  facts  proper  to  ecclesiastical  history,  just 
as  instances  of  sagacity  or  daring,  personal  prowess,  or 
crime,  are  the  facts  proper  to  secular  history."  What  is 
the  harm  of  this  ?  [But  this  writer  says,  "  Verily  his 
[Dr.  Newman's]  idea  of  secular  history  is  almost  as  degraded 
as  his  idea  of  ecclesiastical,"  p.  41,  and  he  ends  with  this 
muddle  of  an  Ipse  dixit !  Blot  twenty-seven. 

[In  like  manner,  about  the  Holy  Coat  at  Treves,  he  says 
of  me,  "  Dr.  Newman  .  .  .  seems  hardly  sure  of  the  authen 
ticity  of  the  Holy  Coat."  Why  need  I  be,  more  than  I  am  20 
sure  that  Richard  III.  murdered  the  little  princes  ?  If 
I  have  not  means  of  making  up  my  mind  one  way  or  the 
other,  surely  my  most  logical  course  is  "  not  to  be  sure." 
He  continues,  "  Dr.  Newman  '  does  not  see  why  it  may 
not  have  been  what  it  professes  to  be.'  '  Well,  is  not  that 
just  what  this  Writer  would  say  of  a  great  number  of 
the  facts  recorded  in  secular  history  ?  is  it  not  what  he 
would  be  obliged  to  say  of  much  that  is  told  us  about  the 
armour  and  other  antiquities  in  the  Tower  of  London  ? 
To  this  I  alluded  in  the  passage  from  which  he  quotes  ;  20 
but  he  has  garbled  that  passage,  and  I  must  show  it.  He 
quotes  me  to  this  effect  :  "Is  the  Tower  of  London  shut 
against  sight-seers  because  the  coats  of  mail  or  pikes  there 
may  have  half -legendary  tales  connected  with  them  ? 
why  then  may  not  the  country  people  come  up  in  joyous 

8  should]  am  led  to 

9-14  Accordingly,  .  .  .  harm  of  this  ?    In  1865  these  lines  were  trans 
posed  to  follow  the  words  rude,  unmeaning  astonishment  (p.  417,  L  23). 
10  this  writer]  he 

14  The  passage  in  [  ],  pp.  418-25  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 

15  [Dr.  Newman's]  These  are  Dr.  Newman's  [  ]. 


APPENDIX.  419 

companies,  singing  and  piping,  to  see  the  holy  coat  at 
Treves  ?  "  On  this  he  remarks,  •"  To  see,  forsooth  !  to 
worship,  Dr.  Newman  would  have  said,  had  he  known  (as 
I  take  for  granted  he  does  not)  the  facts  of  that  imposture." 
Here,  if  I  understand  him,  he  implies  that  the  people 
came  up,  not  only  to  see,  but  to  worship,  and  that  I  have 
slurred  over  the  fact  that  their  coming  was  an  act  of 
religious  homage,  that  is,  what  he  would  call  "  worship." 
Now,  will  it  be  believed  that,  so  far  from  concealing  this, 
10  I  had  carefully  stated  it  in  the  sentence  immediately  pre 
ceding,  and  he  suppresses  it  ?  I  say,  "  The  world  pays 
civil  honour  to  it  [a  jewel  said  to  be  Alfred's]  on  the  prob 
ability  ;  we  pay  religious  honour  to  relics,  if  so  be,  on  the 
probability.  Is  the  Tower  of  London,"  I  proceed,  "  shut," 
&c.  Blot  twenty-eight. 

These  words  of  mine,  however,  are  but  one  sentence  in 
a  long  argument,  conveying  the  Catholic  view  on  the  subject 
of  ecclesiastical  miracles  ;  and,  as  it  is  carefully  worked 
out,  and  very  much  to  the  present  point,  and  will  save  me 
20  doing  over  again  what  I  could  not  do  better  or  more  fully 
now,  if  I  set  about  it,  I  shall  make  a  very  long  extract 
from  the  Lecture  in  which  it  occurs,  and  so  bring  this 
Head  to  an  end. 

The  argument,  I  should  first  observe,  which  is  worked 
out,  is  this,  that  Catholics  set  out  with  a  definite  religious 
tenet  as  a  first  principle,  and  Protestants  with  a  contrary 
one,  and  that  on  this  account  it  comes  to  pass  that  miracles 
are  credible  to  Catholics  and  incredible  to  Protestants. 

"  We  affirm  that  the  Supreme  Being  has  wrought 
30  miracles  on  earth  ever  since  the  time  of  the  Apostles  ; 
Protestants  deny  it.  Why  do  we  affirm,  why  do  they 
deny  ?  We  affirm  it  on  a  first  principle,  they  deny  it  on 
a  first  principle  ;  and  on  either  side  the  first  principle  is 
made  to  be  decisive  of  the  question.  .  .  .  Both  they  and  we 
start  with  the  miracles  of  the  Apostles  ;  and  then  their 
first  principle  or  presumption  against  our  miracles  is  this, 
'  What  God  did  once,  He  is  not  likely  to  do  again  ;  '  while 

12  These  are  the  Author's  [  ]. 


420  APPENDIX. 

our  first  principle  or  presumption  for  our  miracles  is  this  ; 
'  What  God  did  once,  He  is  likely  to  do  again.'  They  say, 
It  cannot  be  supposed  He  will  work  many  miracles  ;  we, 
It  cannot  be  supposed  He  will  work  few. 

'  The  Protestant,  I  say,  laughs  at  the  very  idea  of 
miracles  or  supernatural  powers  as  occurring  at  this  day  ; 
his  first  principle  is  rooted  in  him  ;  he  repels  from  him  the 
idea  of  miracles  ;  he  laughs  at  the  notion  of  evidence  ;  one 
is  just  as  likely  as  another  ;  they  are  all  false.  Why  ? 
because  of  his  first  principle,  There  are  no  miracles  since  10 
the  Apostles.  Here,  indeed,  is  a  short  and  easy  way  of 
getting  rid  of  the  whole  subject,  not  by  reason,  but  by 
a  first  principle  which  he  calls  reason.  Yes,  it  is  reason, 
granting  his  first  principle  is  true  ;  it  is  not  reason,  sup 
posing  his  first  principle  is  false. 

"  There  is  in  the  Church  a  vast  tradition  and  testimony 
about  miracles  ;  how  is  it  to  be  accounted  for  ?  If  miracles 
can  take  place,  then  the  fact  of  the  miracle  will  be  a  natural 
explanation  of  the  report,  just  as  the  fact  of  a  man  dying 
accounts  satisfactorily  for  the  news  that  he  is  dead  ;  but  20 
the  Protestant  cannot  so  explain  it,  because  he  thinks 
miracles  cannot  take  place  ;  so  he  is  necessarily  driven, 
by  way  of  accounting  for  the  report  of  them,  to  impute 
that  report  to  fraud.  He  cannot  help  himself.  I  repeat  it  ; 
the  whole  mass  of  accusations  which  Protestants  bring 
against  us  under  this  head,  Catholic  credulity,  imposture, 
pious  frauds,  hypocrisy,  priestcraft,  this  vast  and  varied 
superstructure  of  imputation,  you  see,  all  rests  on  an 
assumption,  on  an  opinion  of  theirs,  for  which  they  offer 
no  kind  of  proof.  What  then,  in  fact,  do  they  say  more  so 
than  this,  //  Protestantism  be  true,  you  Catholics  are 
a  most  awful  set  of  knaves  ?  Here,  at  least,  is  a  most 
sensible  and  undeniable  position. 

"  Now,  on  the  other  hand,  let  me  take  our  own  side  of 
the  question,  and  consider  how  we  ourselves  stand  relatively 
to  the  charge  made  against  us.  Catholics,  then,  hold  the 
mystery  of  the  Incarnation  ;  and  the  Incarnation  is  the 
most  stupendous  event  which  ever  can  take  place  on 
earth  ;  and  after  it  and  henceforth,  I  do  not  see  how  we 
can  scruple  at  any  miracle  on  the  mere  ground  of  its  being  40 
unlikely  to  happen.  .  .  .  When  we  start  with  assuming  that 


APPENDIX.  421 

miracles  are  not  unlikely,  we  are  putting  forth  a  position 
which  lies  embedded,  as  it  were,  and  involved  in  the  great 
revealed  fact  of  the  Incarnation.  So  much  is  plain  on 
starting  ;  but  more  is  plain  too.  Miracles  are  not  only  not 
unlikely,  but  they  are  positively  likely ;  and  for  this 
simple  reason,  because  for  the  most  part,  when  God  begins, 
He  goes  on.  We  conceive,  that  when  He  first  did  a  miracle, 
He  began  a  series  ;  what  He  commenced,  He  continued  : 
what  has  been,  will  be.  Surely  this  is  good  and  clear  reason 

10  ing.  To  my  own  mind,  certainly,  it  is  incomparably  more 
difficult  to  believe  that  the  Divine  Being  should  do  one 
miracle  and  no  more,  than  that  He  should  do  a  thousand  ; 
that  He  should  do  one  great  miracle  only,  than  that  He 
should  do  a  multitude  of  lesser  besides.  ...  If  the  Divine 
Being  does  a  thing  once,  He  is,  judging  by  human  reason, 
likely  to  do  it  again.  This  surely  is  common  sense.  If 
a  beggar  gets  food  at  a  gentleman's  house  once,  does  he 
not  send  others  thither  after  him  ?  If  you  are  attacked 
by  thieves  once,  do  you  forthwith  leave  your  windows 

20  open  at  night  ?  .  .  .  .  Nay,  suppose  you  yourselves  were 
once  to  see  a  miracle,  would  you  not  feel  the  occurrence  to 
be  like  passing  a  line  ?  would  you,  in  consequence  of  it, 
declare,  '  I  never  will  believe  another  if  I  hear  of  one  ?  ' 
would  it  not,  on  the  contrary,  predispose  you  to  listen  to 
a  new  report  ?  .  .  .  . 

"  When  I  hear  the  report  of  a  miracle,  my  first  feeling 
would  be  of  the  same  kind  as  if  it  were  a  report  of  any 
natural  exploit  or  event.  Supposing,  for  instance,  I  heard 
a  report  of  the  death  of  some  public  man  ;  it  would  not 

30  startle  me,  even  if  I  did  not  at  once  credit  it,  for  all  men 
must  die.  Did  I  read  of  any  great  feat  of  valour,  I  should 
believe  it,  if  imputed  to  Alexander  or  Cceur  de  Lion.  Did 
I  hear  of  any  act  of  baseness,  I  should  disbelieve  it,  if 
imputed  to  a  friend  whom  I  knew  and  loved.  And  so  in 
like  manner  were  a  miracle  reported  to  me  as  wrought  by 
a  Member  of  Parliament,  or  a  Bishop  of  the  Establishment, 
or  a  Wesleyan  preacher,  I  should  repudiate  the  notion  : 
were  it  referred  to  a  saint,  or  the  relic  of  a  saint,  or  the 
intercession  of  a  saint,  I  should  not  be  startled  at  it,  though 

40  I  might  not  at  once  believe  it.  And  I  certainly  should  be 
right  in  this  conduct,  supposing  my  First  Principle  be  true. 


422  APPENDIX. 

Miracles  to  the  Catholic  are  historical  facts,  and  nothing 
short  of  this  ;  and  they  are  to  be  regarded  and  dealt  with 
as  other  facts  ;  and  as  natural  facts,  under  circumstances, 
do  not  startle  Protestants,  so  supernatural,  under  circum 
stances,  do  not  startle  the  Catholic.  They  may  or  may 
not  have  taken  place  in  particular  cases  ;  he  may  be 
unable  to  determine  which,  he  may  have  no  distinct  evi 
dence;  he  may  suspend  his  judgment,  but  he  will  say  '  It 
is  very  possible  ;  '  he  never  will  say  '  I  cannot  believe  it.' 

"  Take  the  history  of  Alfred  ;  you  know  his  wise,  mild,  10 
beneficent,  yet  daring  character,  and  his  romantic  vicissi 
tudes  of  fortune.  This  great  king  has  a  number  of  stories, 
or,  as  you  may  call  them,  legends  told  of  him.  Do  you 
believe  them  all  ?  no.  Do  you,  on  the  other  hand,  think 
them  incredible  ?  no.  Do  you  call  a  man  a  dupe  or  a  block 
head  for  believing  them  ?  no.  Do  you  call  an  author 
a  knave  or  a  cheat  who  records  them  ?  no.  You  go  into 
neither  extreme,  whether  of  implicit  faith  or  of  violent 
reprobation.  You  are  not  so  extravagant ;  you  see  that 
they  suit  his  character,  they  may  have  happened  :  yet  this  20 
is  so  romantic,  that  has  so  little  evidence,  a  third  is  so  con 
fused  in  dates  or  in  geography,  that  you  are  in  matter  of 
fact  indisposed  towards  them.  Others  are  probably  true, 
others  certainly.  Nor  do  you  force  every  one  to  take 
your  view  of  particular  stories  ;  you  and  your  neighbour 
think  differently  about  this  or  that  in  detail,  and  agree  to 
differ.  There  is  in  the  museum  at  Oxford,  a  jewel  or 
trinket  said  to  be  Alfred's  ;  it  is  shown  to  all  comers  ; 
I  never  heard  the  keeper  of  the  museum  accused  of  hypo 
crisy  or  fraud  for  showing,  with  Alfred's  name  appended,  so 
what  he  might  or  might  not  himself  believe  to  have  belonged 
to  that  great  king  ;  nor  did  I  ever  see  any  party  of  strangers 
who  were  looking  at  it  with  awe,  regarded  by  any  self- 
complacent  bystander  with  scornful  compassion.  Yet  the 
curiosity  is  not  to  a  certainty  Alfred's.  The  world  pays 
civil  honour  to  it  on  the  probability  ;  we  pay  religious 
honour  to  relics,  if  so  be,  on  the  probability.  Is  the  Tower 
of  London  shut  against  sight-seers,  because  the  coats  of 
mail  and  pikes  there  may  have  half-legendary  tales  con 
nected  with  them  ?  why  then  may  not  the  country  people  40 
come  up  in  joyous  companies,  singing  and  piping,  to  see 


APPENDIX.  423 

the  Holy  Coat  at  Treves  ?  There  is  our  Queen  again, 
who  is  so  truly  and  justly  popular  ;  she  roves  about  in 
the  midst  of  tradition  and  romance  ;  she  scatters  myths 
and  legends  from  her  as  she  goes  along  ;  she  is  a  being  of 
poetry,  and  you  might  fairly  be  sceptical  whether  she  had 
any  personal  existence.  She  is  always  at  some  beautiful, 
noble,  bounteous  work  or  other,  if  you  trust  the  papers. 
She  is  doing  alms-deeds  in  the  Highlands  ;  she  meets 
beggars  in  her  rides  at  Windsor  ;  she  writes  verses  in 

10  albums,  or  draws  sketches,  or  is  mistaken  for  the  house 
keeper  by  some  blind  old  woman,  or  she  runs  up  a  hill  as 
if  she  were  a  child.  Who  finds  fault  with  these  things  ? 
he  would  be  a  cynic,  he  would  be  white-livered,  and  would 
have  gall  for  blood,  who  was  not  struck  with  this  graceful, 
touching  evidence  of  the  love  her  subjects  bear  her.  Who 
could  have  the  head,  even  if  he  had  the  heart,  who  could 
be  so  cross  and  peevish,  who  could  be  so  solemn  and  per 
verse,  as  to  say  that  some  of  these  stories  may  be  simple 
lies,  and  all  of  them  might  have  stronger  evidence  than 

20  they  carry  with  them  ?  Do  you  think  she  is  displeased  at 
them  ?  Why  then  should  He,  the  Great  Father,  who  once 
walked  the  earth,  look  sternly  on  the  unavoidable  mistakes 
of  His  own  subjects  and  children  in  their  devotion  to  Him 
and  His  ?  Even  granting  they  mistake  some  cases  in 
particular,  from  the  infirmity  of  human  nature  and  the 
contingencies  of  evidence,  and  fancy  there  is  or  has  been 
a  miracle  here  and  there  when  there  is  not,  though  a  tradi 
tion,  attached  to  a  picture,  or  to  a  shrine,  or  a  well,  be 
very  doubtful,  though  one  relic  be  sometimes  mistaken 

so  for  another,  and  St.  Theodore  stands  for  St.  Eugenius  or 
St.  Agathocles,  still,  once  take  into  account  our  First 
Principle,  that  He  is  likely  to  continue  miracles  among  us, 
which  is  as  good  as  the  Protestant's,  and  I  do  not  see  why 
He  should  feel  much  displeasure  with  us  on  account  of  this, 
or  should  cease  to  work  wonders  in  our  behalf.  In  the 
Protestant's  view,  indeed,  who  assumes  that  miracles 
never  are,  our  thaumatology  is  one  great  falsehood  ;  but 
that  is  his  First  Principle,  as  I  have  said  so  often,  which 
he  does  not  prove  but  assume.  If  he,  indeed,  upheld  our 

40  system,  or  we  held  his  principle,  in  either  case  he  or  we 
should  be  impostors  ;  but  though  we  should  be  partners 


424  APPENDIX. 

to  a  fraud  if  we  thought  like  Protestants,  we  surely  are 
not  if  we  think  like  Catholics. 

"  Such  then  is  the  answer  I  make  to  those  who  would 
urge  against  us  the  multitude  of  miracles  recorded  in  our 
Saints'  Lives  and  devotional  works,  for  many  of  which 
there  is  little  evidence,  and  for  some  next  to  none.  We 
think  them  true  in  the  same  sense  in  which  Protestants 
think  the  history  of  England  true.  When  they  say  that, 
they  do  not  mean  to  say  that  there  are  no  mistakes,  but 
no  mistakes  of  consequence,  none  which  alter  the  general  10 
course  of  history.  Nor  do  they  mean  they  are  equally 
sure  of  every  part ;  for  evidence  is  fuller  and  better  for 
some  things  than  for  others.  They  do  not  stake  their 
credit  on  the  truth  of  Froissart  or  Sully,  they  do  not  pledge 
themselves  for  the  accuracy  of  Doddington  or  Walpole, 
they  do  not  embrace  as  an  Evangelist  Hume,  Sharon 
Turner,  or  Macaulay.  And  yet  they  do  not  think  it  neces 
sary,  on  the  other  hand,  to  commence  a  religious  war 
against  all  our  historical  catechisms,  and  abstracts,  and 
dictionaries,  and  tales,  and  biographies,  through  the  20 
country  ;  they  have  no  call  on  them  to  amend  and  expur 
gate  books  of  archaeology,  antiquities,  heraldry,  architec 
ture,  geography,  and  statistics,  to  re-write  our  inscriptions, 
and  to  establish  a  censorship  on  all  new  publications  for 
the  time  to  come.  And  so  as  regards  the  miracles  of  the 
Catholic  Church  ;  if,  indeed,  miracles  never  can  occur, 
then,  indeed,  impute  the  narratives  to  fraud  ;  but  till  you 
prove  they  are  not  likely,  we  shall  consider  the  histories 
which  have  come  down  to  us  true  on  the  whole,  though  in 
particular  cases  they  may  be  exaggerated  or  unfounded,  so 
Where,  indeed,  they  can  certainly  be  proved  to  be  false, 
there  we  shall  be  bound  to  do  our  best  to  get  rid  of  them  ; 
but  till  that  is  clear,  we  shall  be  liberal  enough  to  allow 
others  to  use  their  private  judgment  in  their  favour,  as 
we  use  ours  in  their  disparagement.  For  myself,  lest 
I  appear  in  any  way  to  be  shrinking  from  a  determinate 
judgment  on  the  claims  of  some  of  those  miracles  and 
relics,  which  Protestants  are  so  startled  at,  and  to  be 
hiding  particular  questions  in  what  is  vague  and  general, 
I  will  avow  distinctly,  that,  putting  out  of  the  question  the  40 
hypothesis  of  unknown  laws  of  nature  (which  is  an  evasion 


APPENDIX.  425 

from  the  force  of  any  proof),  I  think  it  impossible  to  with 
stand  the  evidence  which  is  brought  for  the  liquefaction  of 
the  blood  of  St.  Januarius  at  Naples,  and  for  the  motion  of 
the  eyes  of  the  pictures  of  the  Madonna  in  the  Roman 
States.  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  material  of  the  Lombard 
crown  at  Monza  ;  and  I  do  not  see  why  the  Holy  Coat  at 
Treves  may  not  have  been  what  it  professes  to  be.  I  firmly 
believe  that  portions  of  the  True  Cross  are  at  Rome  and 
elsewhere,  that  the  Crib  of  Bethlehem  is  at  Rome,  and  the 

10  bodies  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  also Many  men  when 

they  hear  an  educated  man  so  speak,  will  at  once  impute 
the  avowal  to  insanity,  or  to  an  idiosyncrasy,  or  to  imbe 
cility  of  mind,  or  to  decrepitude  of  powers,  or  to  fanaticism, 
or  to  hypocrisy.  They  have  a  right  to  say  so,  if  they  will ; 
and  we  have  a  right  to  ask  them  why  they  do  not  say  it 
of  those  who  bow  down  before  the  Mystery  of  mysteries,  the 
Divine  Incarnation  ?  "] 

In  my  Essay  on  Miracles  of  the  year  1826,  I  proposed 
three  questions  about  a  professed  miraculous  occurrence, 
20  1.  is  it  antecedently  probable  ?  2.  is  it  in  its  nature  certainly 
miraculous  ?  3.  has  it  sufficient  evidence  ?  These  are 
the  three  heads  (in  my  Essay  of  1842  ;  and)  under  which 
I  still  wish  to  conduct  the  inquiry  into  the  miracles  of 
Ecclesiastical  History. 

17  The  passage  in  [  ],  pp.  418,  I.  14,  to  425,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 
21-22  These  are  the  three  heads]  To  these  three  heads  I  had  regard 
22  which]  them 

24  Here  followed,  in  1865,  the  remainder  of  Note  B.    On  Ecclesiastical 
Miracles,  pp.  407-15  of  this  book. 


P3 


426  APPENDIX. 

[6. 

Popular  Religion. 

This  Writer  uses  much  rhetoric  against  a  Lecture  of 
mine,  in  which  I  bring  out,  as  honestly  as  I  can,  the  state 
of  countries  which  have  long  received  the  Catholic  Faith, 
and  hold  it  by  the  force  of  tradition,  universal  custom,  and 
legal  establishment ;  a  Lecture  in  which  I  give  pictures, 
drawn  principally  from  the  middle  ages,  of  what,  consider 
ing  the  corruption  of  the  human  race  generally,  that  state 
is  sure  to  be, — pictures  of  its  special  sins  and  offences,  sui 
generis,  which  are  the  result  of  that  Faith  when  it  is  sepa 
rated  from  Love  or  Charity,  or  of  what  Scripture  calls  10 
a  "  dead  faith,"  of  the  Light  shining  in  darkness,  and  the 
truth  held  in  unrighteousness.  The  nearest  approach  which 
this  Writer  is  able  to  make  towards  stating  what  I  have 
said  in  this  Lecture,  is  to  state  the  very  reverse.  Observe  : 
we  have  already  had  some  instances  of  the  haziness  of  his 
ideas  concerning  the  "  Notes  of  the  Church."  These  Notes 
are,  as  any  one  knows  who  has  looked  into  the  subject, 
certain  great  and  simple  characteristics,  which  He  who 
founded  the  Church  has  stamped  upon  her  in  order  to 
draw  both  the  reason  and  the  imagination  of  men  to  her,  20 
as  being  really  a  divine  work,  and  a  religion  distinct  from 
all  other  religious  communities  ;  the  principal  of  these 
Notes  being  that  she  is  Holy,  One,  Catholic,  and  Apostolic, 
as  the  Creed  says.  Now,  to  use  his  own  word,  he  has  the 
incredible  "  audacity  "  to  say,  that  I  have  declared,  not 
the  divine  characteristics  of  the  Church,  but  the  sins  and 
scandals  in  her,  to  be  her  Notes, — as  if  I  made  God  the 
Author  of  evil.  He  says  distinctly,  "  Dr.  Newman,  with 
a  kind  of  desperate  audacity,  will  dig  forth  such  scandals 
as  Notes  of  the  Catholic  Church."  This  is  what  I  get  at  his  30 
hands  for  my  honesty.  Blot  twenty-nine. 

Again,  he  says,   "  [Dr.  Newman  uses]  the  blasphemy 
and  profanity  which  he  confesses  to  be  so  common  in 

6.  Popular  Religion.    This  section  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 
32  These  are  Dr.  Newman's  [  ]. 


APPENDIX.  427 

Catholic  countries,  as  an  argument  for,  and  not  against 
the  '  Catholic  Faith.'  '  —p.  50.  That  is,  because  I  admit 
that  profaneness  exists  in  the  Church,  therefore  I  consider 
it  a  token  of  the  Church .  Yes,  certainly,  just  as  our 
national  form  of  cursing  is  an  evidence  of  the  being  of 
a  God,  and  as  a  gallows  is  the  glorious  sign  of  a  civilized 
country, — but  in  no  other  way.  Blot  thirty. 

What  is  it  that  I  really  say  ?  I  say  as  follows  :  Pro 
testants  object  that  the  communion  of  Rome  does  not 

10  fulfil  satisfactorily  the  expectation  which  we  may  justly 
form  concerning  the  True  Church,  as  it  is  delineated  in  the 
four  Notes,  enumerated  in  the  Creed  ;  and  among  others, 
e.g.  in  the  Note  of  sanctity  ;  and  they  point,  in  proof  of 
what  they  assert,  to  the  state  of  Catholic  countries.  Now, 
in  answer  to  this  objection,  it  is  plain  what  I  might  have 
done,  if  I  had  not  had  a  conscience.  I  might  have  denied 
the  fact.  I  might  have  said,  for  instance,  that  the  middle 
ages  were  as  virtuous,  as  they  were  believing.  I  might 
have  denied  that  there  was  any  violence,  any  superstition, 

20  any  immorality,  any  blasphemy  during  them.  And  so  as 
to  the  state  of  countries  which  have  long  had  the  light 
of  Catholic  truth,  and  have  degenerated.  I  might  have 
admitted  nothing  against  them,  and  explained  away  every 
thing  which  plausibly  told  to  their  disadvantage.  I  did 
nothing  of  the  kind  ;  and  what  effect  has  this  had  upon 
this  estimable  critic  ?  "  Dr.  Newman  takes  a  seeming- 
pleasure, "  he  says,  "  in  detailing  instances  of  dishonesty 
on  the  part  of  Catholics." — p.  50.  Blot  thirty-one.  Any 
one  who  knows  me  well,  would  testify  that  my  "  seeming 

30  pleasure,"  as  he  calls  it,  at  such  things,  is  just  the  impatient 
sensitiveness,  which  relieves  itself  by  means  of  a  definite 
delineation  of  what  is  so  hateful  to  it. 

However,  to  pass  on.  All  the  miserable  scandals  of 
Catholic  countries,  taken  at  the  worst,  are,  as  I  view  the 
matter,  no  argument  against  the  Church  itself  ;  and  the 
reason  which  I  give  in  the  Lecture  is,  that,  according  to 
the  proverb,  Corruptio  optimi  est  pessima.  The  Jews 
could  sin  in  a  way  no  other  contemporary  race  could  sin, 
for  theirs  was  a  sin  against  light  ;  and  Catholics  can  sin 

40  with  a  depth  and  intensity  with  which  Protestants  cannot 


428  APPENDIX. 

sin.  There  will  be  more  blasphemy,  more  hatred  of  God, 
more  of  diabolical  rebellion,  more  of  awful  sacrilege,  more 
of  vile  hypocrisy  in  a  Catholic  country  than  any  where  else, 
because  there  is  in  it  more  of  sin  against  light.  Surely,  this 
is  just  what  Scripture  says,  "  Woe  unto  thee,  Chorazin  ! 
woe  unto  thee,  Bethsaida  !  "  And,  again,  surely  what  is 
told  us  by  religious  men,  say  by  Father  Bresciani,  about 
the  present  unbelieving  party  in  Italy,  fully  bears  out  the 
divine  text  :  "If,  after  they  have  escaped  the  pollutions 
of  the  world  .  .  .  they  are  again  entangled  therein  and  10 
overcome,  the  latter  end  is  worse  with  them  than  the 
beginning.  For  it  had  been  better  for  them  not  to  have 
known  the  way  of  righteousness,  than,  after  they  have 
known  it,  to  turn  from  the  holy  commandments  delivered 
unto  them." 

And  what  is  true  of  those  who  thus  openly  oppose 
themselves  to  the  truth,  as  it  was  true  of  the  Evil  One 
in  the  beginning,  will  in  an  analogous  way  be  true  in  the 
case  of  all  sin,  be  it  of  a  heavier  or  lighter  character,  which 
is  found  in  a  Catholic  country  : — sin  will  be  strangely  20 
tinged  or  dyed  by  religious  associations  or  beliefs,  and  will 
exhibit  the  tragical  inconsistencies  of  the  excess  of  knowledge 
over  love,  or  of  much  faith  with  little  obedience.  The 
mysterious  battle  between  good  and  evil  will  assume  in 
a  Catholic  country  its  most  frightful  shape,  when  it  is  not 
the  collision  of  two  distinct  and  far-separated  hosts,  but 
when  it  is  carried  on  in  hearts  and  souls,  taken  one  by  one, 
and  when  the  eternal  foes  are  so  intermingled  and  inter 
fused  that  to  human  eyes  they  seem  to  coalesce  into  a 
multitude  of  individualities.  This  is  in  course  of  years,  the  so 
real,  the  hidden  condition  of  a  nation,  which  has  been 
bathed  in  Christian  ideas,  whether  it  be  a  young  vigorous 
race,  or  an  old  and  degenerate  ;  and  it  will  manifest  itself 
socially  and  historically  in  those  characteristics,  sometimes 
grotesque,  sometimes  hideous,  sometimes  despicable,  of 
which  we  have  so  many  instances,  medieval  and  modern, 
both  in  this  hemisphere  and  in  the  western.  It  is,  I  say, 
the  necessary  result  of  the  intercommunion  of  divine  faith 
and  human  corruption. 

But  it  has  a  light  side  as  well  as  a  dark.    First,  much  40 
which  seems  profane,  is  not  in  itself  profane,  but  in  the 


APPENDIX.  429 

subjective  view  of  the  Protestant  beholder.  Scenic  repre 
sentations  of  our  Lord's  Passion  are  not  profane  to  a 
Catholic  population  ;  in  like  manner,  there  are  usages, 
customs,  institutions,  actions,  often  of  an  indifferent  nature, 
which  will  be  necessarily  mixed  up  with  religion  in  a  Catholic 
country,  because  all  things  whatever  are  so  mixed  up. 
Protestants  have  been  sometimes  shocked,  most  absurdly 
as  a  Catholic  rightly  decides,  at  hearing  that  Mass  is 
sometimes  said  for  a  good  haul  of  fish.  There  is  no  sin 

10  here,    but   only   a    difference   from    Protestant   customs 
Other  phenomena  of  a  Catholic  nation  are  at  most  mere 
extravagances.     And  then  as  to  what  is  really  sinful,  if 
there  be   in  it  fearful  instances  of  blasphemy  or  super 
stition,   there   are   also   special   and   singular   fruits   and 
exhibitions  of  sanctity  ;   and,  if  the  many  do  not  seem  to 
lead  better  lives  for  all  their  religious  knowledge,  at  least 
they  learn,  as  they  can  learn  nowhere  else,  how  to  repent 
thoroughly  and  to  die  well. 
_  The  visible  state  of  a  country,  which  professes  Catholi- 

20  cism,  need  not  be  the  measure  of  the  spiritual  result  of  that 
Catholicism,  at  the  Eternal  Judgment  Seat ;  but  no  one 
could  say  that  that  visible  state  was  a  Note  that  Catholicism 
was  divine. 

All  this  I  attempted  to  bring  out  in  the  Lecture  of  which 
I  am  speaking  ;  and  that  I  had  some  success,  I  am  glad 
to  infer  from  the  message  of  congratulation  upon  it,  which 
I  received  at  the  time,  from  a  foreign  Catholic  layman,  of 
high  English  reputation,  with  whom  I  had  not  the  honour 
of  a  personal  acquaintance.  And  having  given  the  key 

so  to  the  Lecture,  which  the  Writer  so  wonderfully  misrepre 
sents,  I  pass  on  to  another  head.] 


430  APPENDIX. 


7. 

The  Economy. 

For  the  [subject  of  the]  Economy,  (considered  as  a  rule 
of  practice,)  I  shall  refer  to  my  discussion  upon  it  in 
(1830-32,  in)  my  History  of  the  Arians[,  after  one  word 
about  this  Writer.  He  puts  into  his  Title-page  these  words 
from  a  Sermon  of  mine  :  "  It  is  not  more  than  an  hyperbole 
to  say,  that,  in  certain  cases,  a  lie  is  the  nearest  approach 
to  truth."  This  Sermon  he  attacks  ;  but  I  do  not  think  it 
necessary  to  defend  it  here,  because  any  one  who  reads  it, 
will  see  that  he  is  simply  incapable  of  forming  a  notion  of 
what  it  is  about.  It  treats  of  subjects  which  are  entirely  10 
out  of  his  depth  ;  and,  as  I  have  already  shown  in  other 
instances,  and  observed  in  the  beginning  of  this  Volume, 
he  illustrates  in  his  own  person  the  very  thing  that  shocks 
him,  viz.  that  the  nearest  approach  to  truth,  in  given  cases, 
is  a  lie.  He  does  his  best  to  make  something  of  it,  I  believe  ; 
but  he  gets  simply  perplexed.  He  finds  that  it  annihilates 
space,  robs  him  of  locomotion,  almost  scoffs  at  the  existence 
of  the  earth,  and  he  is  simply  frightened  and  cowed.  He 
can  but  say  "  the  man  who  wrote  that  sermon  was  already 
past  the  possibility  of  conscious  dishonesty,"  p.  56.  Perhaps  20 
it  is  hardly  fair,  after  such  a  confession  on  his  part  of 
being  fairly  beat,  to  mark  down  a  blot  ;  however,  let  it  be 
Blot  thirty -two. 

Then  again,  he  quotes  from  me  thus  :  "  Many  a  theory 
or  view  of  things,  on  which  an  institution  is  founded,  or 
a  party  held  together,  is  of  the  same  kind  (economical). 
Many  an  argument,  used  by  zealous  and  earnest  men,  has 
this  economical  character,  being  not  the  very  ground  on 
which  they  act,  (for  they  continue  in  the  same  course, 
though  it  be  refuted,)  yet  in  a  certain  sense,  a  representation  30 
of  it,  a  proximate  description  of  their  feelings,  in  the  shape 
of  argument,  on  which  they  can  rest,  to  which  they  can 
recur  when  perplexed,  and  appeal  when  they  are  questioned." 

7.  (in  'heading}']  Note  F.  On  page  360. 

2  my  discussion]  what  I  wrote 

3  Tlit  matter  between  [  ] ,  pp.  430  to  432, 1.  6,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


APPENDIX.  431 

He  calls  these  "  startling  words,"  p.  54.  Yet  here  again 
he  illustrates  their  truth  ;  for  in  his  own  case,  he  has  acted 
on  them  in  this  very  controversy  with  the  most  happy 
exactness.  Surely  he  referred  to  my  Sermon  on  Wisdom 
and  Innocence,  when  called  on  to  prove  me  a  liar,  as  "  a 
proximate  description  of  his  feelings  about  me,  in  the  shape 
of  argument,"  and  he  has  "  continued  in  the  same  course, 
though  it  has  been  refuted."  Blot  thirty -three.  . 

Then,  as  to  "a  party  being  held  together  by  a  mythical 
10  representation,"  or  economy.  Surely  "  Church  and  King," 
"  Reform,"  "  Non-intervention,"  are  such  symbols  ;  or 
let  this  Writer  answer  Mr.  Kinglake's  question  in  his 
"  Crimean  War,"  "  Is  it  true  that  ....  great  armies  were 
gathering,  and  that  for  the  sake  of  the  Key  and  the  Star 
the  peace  of  the  nations  was  brought  into  danger  ?  "  Blot 
thirty -four. 

In  the  beginning  of  this  work,  pp.  89 — 95,  I  refuted  his 

gratuitous  accusation  against  me  at  p.  57,  founded  on  my 

calling  one  of  my  Anglican  Sermons  a  Protestant  one  : 

20  so  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  register  it  here  as  Blot 

thirty-five. 

Then  he  says  that  I  committed  an  economy  in  placing 
in  my  original  title-page,  that  the  question  between  him 
and  me,  was  whether  "  Dr.  Newman  teaches  that  Truth 
is  no  virtue."  It  was  a  "  wisdom  of  the  serpentine  type," 
since  I  did  not  add,  "for  its  own  sake."  Now  observe  : 
First,  as  to  the  matter  of  fact,  in  the  course  of  my  Letters, 
which  bore  that  Title-page,  I  printed  the  words  "  for  its 
own  sake,"  five  times  over.  Next,  pray,  what  kind  of  a 
so  virtue  is  that,  which  is  not  done  for  its  own  sake  ?  So  this, 
after  all,  is  this  Writer's  idea  of  virtue  !  a  something  that 
is  done  for  the  sake  of  something  else  ;  a  sort  of  expedience  ! 
He  is  honest,  it  seems,  simply  because  honesty  is  "  the  best 
policy,"  and  on  that  score  it  is  that  he  thinks  himself 
virtuous.  Why,  "  for  its  own  sake  "  enters  into  the  very 
idea  or  definition  of  a  virtue.  Defend  me  from  such 
virtuous  men,  as  this  Writer  would  inflict  upon  us  !  Blot 
thirty-six 


432  APPENDIX. 

These  Blots  are  enough  just  now  ;  so  I  proceed  to 
a  brief  sketch  of  what  I  held  in  1833  upon  the  Economy, 
as  a  rule  of  practice.  I  wrote  this  two  months  ago  ;  perhaps 
the  composition  is  not  quite  in  keeping  with  the  run  of  this 
Appendix  ;  and  it  is  short ;  but  I  think  it  will  be  sufficient 
for  my  purpose  : — ] 

The  doctrine  of  the  Economia,  had,  as  I  have  shown 
(above),  pp.  128 — 131,  (in  the  early  Church)  a  large  signi 
fication  when  applied  to  the  divine  ordinances ;  it  also 
had  a  definite  application  to  the  duties  of  Christians,  whether  10 
clergy  or  laity,  in  preaching,  in  instructing  or  catechizing,  or 
in  ordinary  intercourse  with  the  world  around  them  (  ;  and 
in  this  aspect  I  have  here  to  consider  it). 

As  Almighty  God  did  not  all  at  once  introduce  the  Gospel 
to  the  world,  and  thereby  gradually  prepared  men  for  its 
profitable  reception,  so,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
early  Church,  it  was  a  duty,  for  the  sake  of  the  heathen 
among  whom  they  lived,  to  observe  a  great  reserve  and 
caution  in  communicating  to  them  the  knowledge  of  "  the 
whole  counsel  of  God."  This  cautious  dispensation  of  the  20 
truth,  after  the  manner  of  a  discreet  and  vigilant  steward, 
is  denoted  by  the  word  "  economy."  It  is  a  mode  of  acting 
which  comes  under  the  head  of  Prudence,  one  of  the  four 
Cardinal  Virtues. 

The  principle  of  the  Economy  is  this  ;  that  out  of  various 
courses,  in  religious  conduct  or  statement,  all  and  each 
allowable  antecedently  and  in  themselves,  that  ought  to  be 
taken  which  is  most  expedient  and  most  suitable  at  the 
time  for  the  object  in  hand. 

Instances  of  its  application  and  exercise  in  Scripture  so 
are  such  as  the  following  : — 1.  Divine  Providence  did  but 
gradually  impart  to  the  world  in  general,  and  to  the  Jews 
in  particular,  the  knowledge  of  His  will  : — He  is  said  to 
have  "  winked  at  the  times  of  ignorance  among  the  heathen ; ' ' 
and  He  suffered  in  the  Jews  divorce  "  because  of  the  hard 
ness  of  their  hearts."  2.  He  has  allowed  Himself  to  be 
represented  as  having  eyes,  ears,  and  hands,  as  having 
wrath,  jealousy,  grief,  and  repentance.  3.  In  like  manner, 
our  Lord  spoke  harshly  to  the  Syro -Phoenician  woman, 
whose  daughter  He  was  about  to  heal,  and  made  as  if  He  40 

7-8  The  doctrine  ...  pp.  128-131]  I  have  shown  above,  pp.  128-131, 
that  the  doctrine  in  question  had 


(NOTE  F.)  433 

would  go  further,  when  the  two  disciples  had  come  to  their 
journey's  end.  4.  Thus  too  Joseph  "  made  himself  strange 
to  his  brethren,"  and  Elisha  kept  silence  on  request  of 
Naaman  to  bow  in  the  house  of  Bimmon.  5.  Thus  St.  Paul 
circumcised  Timothy,  while  he  cried  out  "  Circumcision 
availeth  not." 

It  may  be  said  that  this  principle,  true  in  itself,  yet  is 
dangerous,  because  it  admits  of  an  easy  abuse,  and  carries 
men  away  into  what  becomes  insincerity  and  cunning. 

10  This  is  undeniable  ;  to  do  evil  that  good  may  come,  to 
consider  that  the  means,  whatever  they  are,  justify  the 
end,  to  sacrifice  truth  to  expedience,  unscrupulousness, 
recklessness,  are  grave  offences.  These  are  abuses  of  the 
Economy.  But  to  call  them  economical  is  to  give  a  fine 
name  to  what  occurs  every  day,  independent  of  any  know 
ledge  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Economy.  It  is  the  abuse  of 
a  rule  which  nature  suggests  to  every  one.  Every  one 
looks  out  for  the  "  mollia  tempora  fandi,"  and  (for)  "  mollia 
verba  "  too. 

20  Having  thus  explained  what  is  meant  by  the  Economy 
as  a  rule  of  social  intercourse  between  men  of  different 
religious,  or,  again,  political,  or  social  views,  next  I  (will) 
go  on  to  state  what  I  said  in  the  Arians. 

I  say  in  that  Volume  first,  that  our  Lord  has  given  us 
the  principle  in  His  own  words, — "  Cast  not  your  pearls 
before  swine  ;  "  and  that  He  exemplified  it  in  His  teaching 
by  parables  ;  that  St.  Paul  expressly  distinguishes  between 
the  milk  which  is  necessary  to  one  set  of  men,  and  the  strong 
meat  which  is  allowed  to  others,  and  that,  in  two  Epistles. 

so  I  say,  that  the  Apostles  in  the  Acts  observe  the  same  rule 
in  their  speeches,  for  it  is  a  fact,  that  they  do  not  preach  the 
high  doctrines  of  Christianity,  but  only  "  Jesus  and  the 
resurrection  "  or  "  repentance  and  faith."  I  also  say,  that 
this  is  the  very  reason  that  the  Fathers  assign  for  the 
silence  of  various  writers  in  the  first  centuries  on  the  subject 
of  our  Lord's  divinity.  I  also  speak  of  the  catechetical 
system  practised  in  the  early  Church,  and  the  disciplines 
arcani  as  regards  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  to  which 
Bingham  bears  witness  ;  also  of  the  defence  of  this  rule  by 

40  Basil,  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  Chrysostom,  and  Theodoret. 

33  resurrection]  Resurrection 


434  APPENDIX. 

And  next  the  question  may  be  asked,  whether  I  have 
said  any  thing  in  my  Volume  to  guard  the  doctrine,  thus  laid 
down,  from  the  abuse  to  which  it  is  obviously  exposed  : 
and  my  answer  is  easy.  Of  course,  had  I  had  any  idea  that 
I  should  have  been  exposed  to  such  hostile  misrepresenta 
tions,  as  it  has  been  my  lot  to  undergo  on  the  subject,  I 
should  have  made  more  direct  avowals  than  I  have  done  of 
my  sense  of  the  gravity  and  the  danger  of  that  abuse.  Since 
I  could  not  foresee  when  I  wrote,  that  I  should  have  been 
wantonly  slandered,  I  only  wonder  that  I  have  anticipated  10 
the  charge  as  fully  as  will  be  seen  in  the  following  extracts. 

For  instance,  speaking  of  the  Disciplina  Arcani,  I  say  : — 
(1)  "  The  elementary  information  given  to  the  heathen 
or  catechumen  was  in  no  sense,  undone  by  the  subsequent 
secret  teaching,  which  was  in  fact  but  the  filling  up  of 
a  bare  but  correct  outline"  p.  58,  and  I  contrast  this  with  the 
conduct  of  the  Manichseans  "  who  represented  the  initiatory 
discipline  as  founded  on  a  fiction  or  hypothesis,  which 
was  to  be  forgotten  by  the  learner  as  he  made  progress  in 
the  real  doctrine  of  the  Gospel."  (2)  As  to  allegorizing,  1 20 
say  that  the  Alexandrians  erred,  whenever  and  as  far  as 
they  proceeded  "  to  obscure  the  primary  meaning  of 
Scripture,  and  to  weaken  the  force  of  historical  facts  and 
express  declarations,"  p.  69.  (3)  And  that  they  were  "  more 
open  to  censure"  when,  on  being  "  urged  by  objections  to 
various  passages  in  the  history  of  the  Old  Testament,  as 
derogatory  to  the  divine  perfections  or  to  the  Jewish 
Saints,  they  had  recourse  to  an  allegorical  explanation  by 
way  of  answer  "  p.  71.  (4)  I  add,  "  It  is  impossible  to  defend 
such  a  procedure,  which  seems  to  imply  a  want  of  faith  in  30 
those  who  had  recourse  to  it  ;  "  for  "  God  has  given  us 
rules  of  right  and  wrong"  ibid.  (5)  Again,  I  say, — "  The 
abuse  of  the  Economy  in  the  hands  of  unscrupulous  reasoners, 
is  obvious.  Even  the  honest  controversialist  or  teacher 
will  find  it  very  difficult  to  represent,  without  misrepre 
senting,  what  it  is  yet  his  duty  to  present  to  his  hearers 
with  caution  or  reserve.  Here  the  obvious  rule  to  guide  our 
practice  is,  to  be  careful  ever  to  maintain  substantial  truth 
in  our  use  of  the  economical  method,"  pp.  79,  80.  (6)  And 
so  far  from  concurring  at  all  hazards  with  Justin,  Gregory,  40 

1  And]  But 


(NOTE  F.)  435 

or  Athanasius,  I  say,  "  It  is  plain  [they]  were  justified  or 
not  in  their  Economy,  according  as  they  did  or  did  not 
practically  mislead  their  opponents,"  p.  80.  (7)  I  proceed, 
"  It  is  so  difficult  to  hit  the  mark  in  these  perplexing  cases, 
that  it  is  not  wonderful,  should  these  or  other  Fathers 
have  failed  at  times,  and  said  more  or  less  than  was  proper," 
ibid. 

The  Principle  of  the  Economy  is  familiarly  acted  on 
among  us  every  day.  When  we  would  persuade  others,  we 

10  do  not  begin  by  treading  on  their  toes.  Men  would  be 
thought  rude  who  introduced  their  own  religious  notions 
into  mixed  society,  and  were  devotional  in  a  drawing-room. 
Have  we  never  thought  lawyers  tiresome  who  (did  not 
observe  this  polite  rule,  who)  came  down  for  the  assizes 
and  talked  law  all  through  dinner  ?  Does  the  same  argument 
tell  in  the  House  of  Commons,  on  the  hustings,  and  at 
Exeter  Hall  ?  Is  an  educated  gentleman  never  worsted 
at  an  election  by  the  tone  and  arguments  of  some  clever 
fellow,  who,  whatever  his  shortcomings  in  other  respects, 

20  understands  the  common  people  ? 

As  to  the  Catholic  Religion  in  England  at  the  present 
day,  this  only  will  I  observe, — that  the  truest  expedience  is 
to  answer  right  out,  when  you  are  asked  ;  that  the  wisest 
economy  is  to  have  no  management ;  that  the  best  prudence 
is  not  to  be  a  coward  ;  that  the  most  damaging  folly  is  to 
be  found  out  shuffling  ;  and  that  the  first  of  virtues  is 
to  "  tell  truth,  and  shame  the  devil." 

1  These  are  the  Author's  [  ] 


436  APPENDIX. 


8. 

Lying  and  Equivocation. 

[This  writer  says,  "  Though  [a  lie]  be  a  sin,  the  fact  of  its 
being  a  venial  one  seems  to  have  gained  for  it  as  yet  a  very 
slight  penance." — p.  60.  Yet  he  says  also  that  Dr.  Newman 
takes  "  a  perverse  pleasure  in  eccentricities,"  because  I  say 
that  "it  is  better  for  sun  and  moon  to  drop  from  heaven 
than  that  one  soul  should  tell  one  wilful  untruth." — p.  46. 
That  is,  he  first  accuses  us  without  foundation  of  making 
light  of  a  lie  ;  and,  when  he  finds  that  we  don't,  then  he 
calls  us  inconsistent.  I  have  noticed  these  words  of  mine, 
and  two  passages  besides,  which  he  quotes,  above  at  pp.  10 
339-41.  Here  I  will  but  observe  on  the  subject  of  venial 
sin  generally,  that  he  altogether  forgets  our  doctrine  of 
Purgatory.  This  punishment  may  last  till  the  day  of 
judgment ;  so  much  for  duration  ;  then  as  to  intensity, 
let  the  image  of  fire,  by  which  we  denote  it,  show  what  we 
think  of  it.  Here  is  the  expiation  of  venial  sins.  Yet 
Protestants,  after  the  manner  of  this  Writer,  are  too  apt 
to  play  fast  and  loose  ;  to  blame  us  because  we  hold  that 
sin  may  be  venial,  and  to  blame  us  again  when  we  tell  them 
what  we  think  will  be  its  punishment.  Blot  thirty-seven.  20 

At  the  end  of  his  Pamphlet  he  makes  a  distinction 
between  the  Catholic  clergy  and  gentry  in  England,  which 
I  know  the  latter  consider  to  be  very  impertinent ;  and  he 
makes  it  apropos  of  a  passage  in  one  of  my  original  letters 
in  January.  He  quotes  me  as  saying  that  "  Catholics  differ 
from  Protestants,  as  to  whether  this  or  that  act  in  particular 
is  conformable  to  the  rule  of  truth,"  p.  61  ;  and  then  he 
goes  on  to  observe,  that  I  have  "  calumniated  the  Catholic 
gentry,"  because  "  there  is  no  difference  whatever,  of 
detail  or  other,  between  their  truthfulness  and  honour,  so 
and  the  truthfulness  and  honour  of  the  Protestant  gentry 

8.  (in  heading)]  Note  G.  On  page  369. 

1  The  passages  in  [  ],  pp.  436-8,  were  not  reprinted  in  1865. 

1  [a  lie]  These  are  Dr.  Newman's  [  ]. 


APPENDIX.  437 

among  whom  they  live."     But  again  he  has  garbled  my 
words  ;  they  run  thus  : 

"  Truth  is  the  same  in  itself  and  in  substance,  to  Catholic 
and  Protestant ;  so  is  purity  ;  both  virtues  are  to  be  re 
ferred  to  that  moral  sense  which  is  the  natural  possession 
of  us  all.  But,  when  we  come  to  the  question  in  detail, 
whether  this  or  that  act  in  particular  is  conformable  to  the 
rule  of  truth,  or  again  to  the  rule  of  purity,  then  sometimes 
there  is  a  difference  of  opinion  between  individuals,  some- 

10  times  between  schools,  and  sometimes  between  religious  com 
munions."  I  knew  indeed  perfectly  well,  and  I  confessed 
that  "  Protestants  think  that  the  Catholic  system,  as  such, 
leads  to  a  lax  observance  of  the  rule  of  truth  ;  "  but  I 
added,  "  I  am  very  sorry  that  they  should  think  so,"  and 
I  never  meant  myself  to  grant  that  all  Protestants  were  on 
the  strict  side,  and  all  Catholics  on  the  lax.  Far  from  it  ; 
there  is  a  stricter  party  as  well  as  a  laxer  party  among 
Catholics,  there  is  a  laxer  party  as  well  as  a  stricter  party 
among  Protestants.  I  have  already  spoken  of  Protestant 

20  writers  who  in  certain  cases  allow  of  lying,  I  have  also 
spoken  of  Catholic  writers  who  do  not  allow  of  equivoca 
tion  ;  when  I  wrote  "  a  difference  of  opinion  between 
individuals,"  and  "  between  schools,"  I  meant  between 
Protestant  and  Protestant,  and  particular  instances  were 
in  my  mind.  I  did  not  say  then,  or  dream  of  saying,  that 
Catholics,  priests  and  laity,  were  lax  on  the  point  of  lying, 
and  that  Protestants  were  strict,  any  more  than  I  meant 
to  say  that  all  Catholics  were  pure,  and  all  Protestants 
impure  ;  but  I  meant  to  say  that,  whereas  the  rule  of 

so  Truth  is  one  and  the  same  both  to  Catholic  and  Protestant, 
nevertheless  some  Catholics  were  lax,  some  strict,  and 
again  some  Protestants  were  strict,  some  lax  ;  and  I  have 
already  had  opportunities  of  recording  my  own  judgment 
on  which  side  this  Writer  is  himself,  and  therefore  he  may 
keep  his  forward  vindication  of  "  honest  gentlemen  and 
noble  ladies,"  who,  in  spite  of  their  priests,  are  still  so 
truthful,  till  such  time  as  he  can  find  a  worse  assailant  of 
them  than  I  am,  and  they  no  better  champion  of  them  than 
himself.  And  as  to  the  Priests  of  England,  those  who 

40  know  them,  as  he  does  not,  will  pronounce  them  no 
whit  inferior  in  this  great  virtue  to  the  gentry,  whom 


438  APPENDIX. 

he   says  that  he  does  ;    and  I   cannot   say   more.     Blot 
thirty-eight. 

Lastly,  this  Writer  uses  the  following  words,  which 
I  have  more  than  once  quoted,  and  with  a  reference  to 
them  I  shall  end  my  remarks  upon  him.  "  I  am  hence 
forth,"  he  says,  "  in  doubt  and  fear,  as  much  as  an  honest 
man  can  be,  concerning  every  word  Dr.  Newman  may 
write.  How  can  I  tell  that  I  shall  not  be  the  dupe  of  some 
cunning  equivocation,  of  one  of  the  three  kinds,  laid  down 
as  permissible  by  the  blessed  St.  Alfonso  da  Liguori  and  10 
his  pupils,  even  when  confirmed  with  an  oath  .  .  .  ?  " 

I  will  tell  him  why  he  need  not  fear  ;  because  he  has 
left  out  one  very  important  condition  in  the  statement  of 
St.  Alfonso, — and  very  applicable  to  my  own  case,  even  if 
I  followed  St.  Alfonso's  view  of  the  subject.  St.  Alfonso 
says  "  ex  justd  causd  ;  "  but  our  "  honest  man,"  as  he 
styles  himself,  has  omitted  these  words  ;  which  are  a  key 
to  the  whole  question.  Blot  thirty -nine.  Here  endeth  our 
"  honest  man."  Now  for  the  subject  of  Lying.] 

Almost  all  authors,  Catholic  and  Protestant,  admit,  20 
that  when  a  just  cause  is  present,  there  is  some  kind  or 
other  of  verbal  misleading,  which  is  not  sin.  Even  silence 
is  in  certain  cases  virtually  such  a  misleading,  according 
to  the  Proverb,  "  Silence  gives  consent."  Again,  silence 
is  absolutely  forbidden  to  a  Catholic,  as  a  mortal  sin, 
under  certain  circumstances,  e.  g.  to  keep  silence,  instead 
of  making  a  profession  of  faith. 

Another  mode  of  verbal  misleading,  and  the  most  direct, 
is  actually  saying  the  thing  that  is  not  ;   and  it  is  defended 
on  the  principle  that  such  words  are  not  a  lie,  when  there  so 
is  a  "  justa  causa,"  as  killing  is  not  murder  in  the  case  of  an 
executioner. 

Another  ground  of  certain  authors  for  saying  that  an 
untruth  is  not  a  lie  where  there  is  a  just  cause,  is,  that 
veracity  is  a  kind  of  justice,  and  therefore,  when  we  have 
no  duty  of  justice  to  tell  truth  to  another,  it  is  no  sin  not  to 
do  so.  Hence  we  may  say  the  thin§  that  is  not,  to  children, 

26-27  instead  of  making]  when  it  is  a  duty  to  make 


(NOTE  G.)  439 

to  madmen,  to  men  who  ask  impertinent  questions,  to  those 
whom  we  hope  to  benefit  by  misleading. 

Another  ground,  taken  in  defending  certain  untruths,  ex 
justd  causd,  as  if  not  lies,  is  that  veracity  is  for  the  sake  of 
society,  and  (that),  if  in  no  case  (whatever)  we  might 
lawfully  mislead  others,  we  should  actually  be  doing 
society  great  harm. 

Another  mode  of  verbal  misleading  is  equivocation  or 
a  play  upon  words  ;  and  it  is  defended  on  the  view  that  to 
10  lie  is  to  use  words  in  a  sense  which  they  will  not  bear.  But 
an  equivocator  uses  them  in  a  received  sense,  though  there 
is  another  received  sense,  and  therefore,  according  to  this 
definition,  he  does  not  lie. 

Others  say  that  all  equivocations  are,  after  all,  a  kind 
of  lying,  ( — )  faint  lies  or  awkward  lies,  but  still  lies  ;  and 
some  of  these  disputants  infer,  that  therefore  we  must  not 
equivocate,  and  others  that  equivocation  is  but  a  half- 
measure,  and  that  it  is  better  to  say  at  once  that  in  certain 
cases  untruths  are  not  lies. 

20  Others  will  try  to  distinguish  between  evasions  and 
equivocations  ;  but  [they  will  be  answered,  that,]  though 
there  are  evasions  which  are  clearly  not  equivocations,  yet 
[that]  it  is  (very)  difficult  scientifically  to  draw  the  line 
between  them. 

To  these  must  be  added  the  unscientific  way  of  dealing 
with  lies,  ( — )  viz.  that  on  a  great  or  cruel  occasion  a  man 
cannot  help  telling  a  lie,  and  he  would  not  be  a  man,  did 
he  not  tell  it,  but  still  it  is  (very)  wrong  and  he  ought  not 
to  do  it,  and  he  must  trust  that  the  sin  will  be  forgiven 
so  him,  though  he  goes  about  to  commit  it  (ever  so  deliberately, 
and  is  sure  to  commit  it  again  under  similar  circumstances). 
It  is  a  (necessary)  frailty,  and  had  better  not  be  anticipated, 
and  not  thought  of  again,  after  it  is  once  over.  This  view 
cannot  for  a  moment  be  defended,  but,  I  suppose,  it  is 
very  common. 

[And  now]  I  think  the  historical  course  of  thought  upon 
the  matter  has  been  this  :  the  Greek  Fathers  thought 

9  view]  theory  24  them]  the  one  and  the  other 

32  anticipated]  thought  about  before  it  is  incurred 

33  once]  well 


440  APPENDIX. 

that,  when  there  was  a  justa  causa,  an  untruth  need  not 
be  a  lie.  St.  Augustine  took  another  view,  though  with 
great  misgiving  ;  and,  whether  he  is  rightly  interpreted 
or  not,  is  the  doctor  of  the  great  and  common  view  that  all 
untruths  are  lies,  and  that  there  can  be  no  just  cause  of 
untruth.  In  these  later  times,  this  doctrine  has  been  found 
difficult  to  work,  and  it  has  been  largely  taught  that, 
though  all  untruths  are  lies,  yet  that  certain  equivocations, 
when  there  is  a  just  cause,  are  not  untruths. 

Further,  there  have  been  and  all  along  through  these  10 
later  ages,  other  schools,  running  parallel  with  the  above 
mentioned,  one  of  which  says  that  equivocations,  &c.  after 
all  are  lies,  and  another  which  says  that  there  are  untruths 
which  are  not  lies. 

And  now  as  to  the  "  just  cause,"  which  is  the  condition, 
sine  qua  non.  The  Greek  Fathers  make  them  such  as  these, 
self-defence,  charity,  zeal  for  God's  honour,  and  the  like. 

St.  Augustine  seems  to  deal  with  the  same  "  just  causes  " 
as  the  Greek  Fathers,  even  though  he  does  not  allow  of  their 
availableness  as  depriving  untruths,  spoken  with  such  20 
objects,  of  their  sinfulness.  He  mentions  defence  of  life 
and  of  honour,  and  the  safe  custody  of  a  secret.  Also  the 
Anglican  writers,  who  have  followed  the  Greek  Fathers,  in 
defending  untruths  when  there  is  the  "  just  cause,"  consider 
that  (")  just  cause  (")  to  be  such  as  the  preservation  of  life 
and  property,  defence  of  law,  the  good  of  others.  More 
over,  their  moral  rights,  e.  g.  defence  against  the  inquisi 
tive,  &c. 

St.  Alfonso,  I  consider,  would  take  the  same  view  of  so 
the  "  justa  causa  "  as  the  Anglican  divines  ;  he  speaks  of 
it  as  "  quicunque  finis  honestus,  ad  servanda  bona  spiritui 
vel  corpori  utilia  ;  "    which  is  very  much  the  view  which 
they  take  of  it,  judging  by  the  instances  which  they  give. 

In  all  cases,  however,  and  as  contemplated  by  all  authors, 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  or  Milton,  or  St.  Alfonso,  such 
a  causa  is,  in  fact,  extreme,  rare,  great,  or  at  least  special. 
Thus  the  writer  in  the  Melanges  Theologiques  (Liege,  1852-3, 
p.  453)  quotes  Lessius  :  "Si  absque  justa  causa  fiat,  est 
abusio  orationis  contra  virtutem  veritatis,  et  civilem  40 

16  them]  it  20-21  with  such  objects]  on  such  occasions 


(NOTE  G.)  441 

consuetudinem,  etsi  proprie  non  sit  mendacium."  That 
is,  the  virtue  of  truth,  and  the  civil  custom,  are  the  measure 
of  the  just  cause.  And  so  Voit,  "  If  a  man  has  used  a 
reservation  (restrictione  non  pure  mentali)  without  a  grave 
cause,  he  has  sinned  gravely."  And  so  the  author  himself, 
from  whom  I  quote,  and  who  defends  the  Patristic  and 
Anglican  doctrine  that  there  are  untruths  which  are  not 
lies,  says, "  Under  the  name  of  mental  reservation  theologians 
authorize  many  lies,  when  there  is  for  them  a  grave  reason 

10  and  proportionate  "  i.  e.  to  their  character. — p.  459.  And 
so  St.  Alfonso,  in  another  Treatise,  quotes  St.  Thomas  to 
the  effect,  that,  if  from  one  cause  two  immediate  effects 
follow,  and,  if  the  good  effect  of  that  cause  is  equal  in 
value  to  the  bad  effect  (bonus  cequivalet  malo),  then  nothing 
hinders  that  the  good  may  be  intended  and  the  evil  per 
mitted.  From  which  it  will  follow  that,  since  the  evil  to 
society  from  lying  is  very  great,  the  just  cause  which  is  to 
make  it  allowable,  must  be  very  great  also.  And  so  Kenrick  : 
"  It  is  confessed  by  all  Catholics  that,  in  the  common  inter- 

20  course  of  life,  all  ambiguity  of  language  is  to  be  avoided ;  but 
it  is  debated  whether  such  ambiguity  is  ever  lawful.  Most 
theologians  answer  in  the  affirmative,  supposing  a  grave  cause 
urges,  and  the  [true]  mind  of  the  speaker  can  be  collected 
from  the  adjuncts,  though  in  fact  it  be  not  collected." 

However,  there  are  cases,  I  have  already  said,  of  another 
kind,  in  which  Anglican  authors  would  think  a  lie  allowable  ; 
such  as  when  a  question  is  impertinent.  [Accordingly,  I 
think  the  best  word  for  embracing  all  the  cases  which 
would  come  under  the  "  justa  causa,"  is,  not  "  extreme," 

so  but  "  special,"  and  I  say  the  same  as  regards  St.  Alfonso  ; 
and  therefore,  above  in  pp.  363-5,  whether  I  speak 
of  St.  Alfonso  or  Paley,  I  should  have  used  the  word 
"  special,"  or  "  extraordinary,"  not  "  extreme."] 

What  I  have  been  saying  shows  what  different  schools 
of  opinion  there  are  in  the  Church  in  the  treatment  of  this 

15-16  that  the  good  may  be  intended  and  the  evil  permitted]  the 
speaker's  intending  the  good  and  only  permitting  the  evil 

21  ever]  ever  23  These  [  ]  are  in  1864  and  1865. 

27-33  For  the  passage  in  [  ]  the  following  is  substituted  in  1865  :  Of 
such  a  case  Walter  Scott,  if  I  mistake  not,  supplied  a  very  distinct 
example,  in  his  denying  so  long  the  authorship  of  his  novels. 


442  APPENDIX. 

difficult  doctrine  ;  and,  by  consequence,  that  a  given 
individual,  such  as  I  am,  cannot  agree  with  all  (of  them),  and 
has  a  full  right  to  follow  which  (of  them)  he  will.  The 
freedom  of  the  Schools,  indeed,  is  one  of  those  rights  of 
reason,  which  the  Church  is  too  wise  really  to  interfere 
with.  And  this  applies  not  to  moral  questions  only,  but 
to  dogmatic  also. 

It  is  supposed  by  Protestants  that,  because  St.  Alfonso's 
writings  have  had  such  high  commendation  bestowed  upon 
them  by  authority,  therefore  they  have  been  invested  with  10 
a  quasi-infallibility.  This  has  arisen  in  good  measure  from 
Protestants  not  knowing  the  force  of  theological  terms. 
The  words  to  which  they  refer  are  the  authoritative  decision 
that  "  nothing  in  his  works  has  been  found  worthy  of  censure," 
"  censura  dignum  ;  "  but  this  does  not  lead  to  the  conclu 
sions  which  have  been  drawn  from  it.  Those  words  occur 
in  a  legal  document,  and  cannot  be  interpreted  except 
in  a  legal  sense.  In  the  first  place,  the  sentence  is  negative  ; 
nothing  in  St.  Alfonso's  writings  is  positively  approved  ; 
and  secondly  it  is  not  said  that  there  are  no  faults  in  what  20 
he  has  written,  but  nothing  which  comes  under  the  eccle 
siastical  censura,  which  is  something  very  definite.  To 
take  and  interpret  them,  in  the  way  commonly  adopted  in 
England,  is  the  same  mistake,  as  if  one  were  to  take  the 
word  "  Apologia  "  in  the  English  sense  of  apology,  or 
"  Infant  "  in  law  to  mean  a  little  child. 

1.  Now  first  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  (above)  form  of 
words  viewed  as  a  proposition.  When  they  were  brought 
before  the  fitting  authorities  at  Rome  by  the  Archbishop 
of  Besangon,  the  answer  returned  to  him  contained  the  30 
condition  that  those  words  were  to  be  interpreted,  "  with 
due  regard  to  the  mind  of  the  Holy  See  concerning  the 
approbation  of  writings  of  the  servants  of  God,  ad  effectum 
Canonizationis."  This  is  intended  to  prevent  any  Catholic 
taking  the  words  about  St.  Alfonso's  works  in  too  large  a 
sense.  Before  a  Saint  is  canonized,  his  works  are  examined 
and  a  judgment  pronounced  upon  them.  Pope  Benedict 
XIV.  says,  "  The  end  or  scope  of  this  judgment  is,  that  it 

28-29  they  were  brought  before]  a  question  on  the  subject  was  asked  of 
30-31  the  condition]  this  condition,  viz. 


(NOTE  G.)  443 

may  appear,  whether  the  doctrine  of  the  servant  of  God, 
which  he  has  brought  out  in  his  wri tings,  is  free  from  any 
soever  theological  censure."  And  he  remarks  in  addition, 
"  It  never  can  be  said  that  the  doctrine  of  a  servant  of 
God  is  approved  by  the  Holy  See,  but  at  most  it  can  [only] 
be  said  that  it  is  not  disapproved  (non  reprobatam)  in  case 
that  the  Revisers  had  reported  that  there  is  nothing  found 
by  them  in  his  works,  which  is  adverse  to  the  decrees  of 
Urban  VIII.,  and  that  the  judgment  of  the  Revisers  has 

10  been  approved  by  the  sacred  Congregation,  and  confirmed 
by  the  Supreme  Pontiff."  The  Decree  of  Urban  VIII. 
here  referred  to  is,  "  Let  works  be  examined,  whether 
they  contain  errors  against  faith  or  good  morals  (bonos 
mores),  or  any  new  doctrine,  or  a  doctrine  foreign  and  alien 
to  the  common* sense  and  custom  of  the  Church."  The 
author  from  whom  I  quote  this  (M.  Vandenbroeck,  of  the 
diocese  of  Malines)  observes,  "  It  is  therefore  clear,  that  the 
approbation  of  the  works  of  the  Holy  Bishop  touches  not 
the  truth  of  every  proposition,  adds  nothing  to  them,  nor 

20  even  gives  them  by  consequence  a  degree  of  intrinsic 
probability."  He  adds  that  it  gives  St.  Alfonso's  theology 
an  extrinsic  probability,  from  the  fact  that,  in  the  judgment 
of  the  Holy  See,  no  proposition  deserves  to  receive  a 
censure  ;  but  that  "  that  probability  will  cease  nevertheless 
in  a  particular  case,  for  any  one  who  should  be  convinced, 
whether  by  evident  arguments,  or  by  a  decree  of  the  Holy 
See,  or  otherwise,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Saint  deviates 
from  the  truth."  He  adds,  "  From  the  fact  that  the  appro 
bation  of  the  works  of  St.  Alfonso  does  not  decide  the  truth 

so  of  each  proposition,  it  follows,  as  Benedict  XIV.  has 
remarked,  that  we  may  combat  the  doctrine  which  they 
contain  ;  only,  since  a  canonized  saint  is  in  question,  who 
is  honoured  by  a  solemn  culte  in  the  Church,  we  ought  not 
to  speak  except  with  respect,  nor  to  attack  his  opinions 
except  with  temper  and  modesty." 

2.  Then,  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  word  censura  :  Bene 
dict  XIV.  enumerates  a  number  of  "  Notes  "  which  come 
under  that  name  ;  he  says,  "  Out  of  propositions  which  are 
to  be  noted  with  theological  censure,  some  are  heretical, 
some  erroneous,  some  close  upon  error,  some  savouring  of 
5  The  [  ]  are  in  both  1864  and  1S65. 


444  APPENDIX. 

heresy,"  and  so  on  ;  and  each  of  these  terms  has  its  own 
definite  meaning.  Thus  by  "  erroneous  "  is  meant,  according 
to  Viva,  a  proposition  which  is  not  immediately  opposed 
to  a  revealed  proposition,  but  only  to  a  theological  con 
clusion  drawn  from  premisses  which  are  defide ;  "  savouring 
of  heresy  (is)  "  [when]  a  proposition(,  which)  is  opposed 
to  a  theological  conclusion  not  evidently  drawn  from 
premisses  which  are  defide,  but  most  probably  and  according 
to  the  common  mode  of  theologizing,  ( — )  and  so  with  the 
rest.  Therefore  when  it  was  said  by  the  Revisers  of  10 
St.  Alfonso's  works  that  they  were  not  "  worthy  of  censure," 
it  was  only  meant  that  they  did  not  fall  under  these 
particular  Notes. 

But  the  answer  from  Rome  to  the  Archbishop  of  Besangon 
went  further  than  this  ;  it  actually  took -pains  to  declare 
that  any  one  who  pleased  might  follow  other  theologians 
instead  of  St.  Alfonso.  After  saying  that  no  Priest  was  to 
be  interfered  with  who  followed  St.  Alfonso  in  the  Con 
fessional,  it  added,  "  This  is  said,  however,  without  on  that 
account  judging  that  they  are  reprehended  who  follow  20 
opinions  handed  down  by  other  approved  authors." 

And  this  too,  I  will  observe,  ( — )  that  St.  Alfonso  made 
many  changes  of  opinion  himself  in  the  course  of  his 
writings  ;  and  it  could  not  for  an  instant  be  supposed 
that  we  were  bound  to  every  one  of  his  opinions,  when  he 
did  not  feel  himself  bound  to  them  in  his  own  person.  And, 
what  is  more  to  the  purpose  still,  there  are  opinions,  or 
some  opinion,  of  his  which  actually  has  been  proscribed  by 
the  Church  since,  and  cannot  now  be  put  forward  or  used. 
I  do  not  pretend  to  be  a  well-read  theologian  myself,  but  30 
I  say  this  on  the  authority  of  a  theological  professor  of 
Breda,  quoted  in  the  Melanges  Theol.  for  1850-1.  He 
says :  "It  may  happen,  that,  in  the  course  of  time, 
errors  may  be  found  in  the  works  of  St.  Alfonso  and  be 
proscribed  by  the  Church,  a  thing  which  in  fact  has  already 
occurred." 

In  not  ranging  myself  then  with  those  who  consider  that 
it  is  justifiable  to  use  words  in  a  double  sense,  that  is,  to 
equivocate,  I  put  myself  [,  first,]  under  the  protection  of  (such  40 
28  has]  have 


APPENDIX.  445 

authors  as)  Cardinal  Gerdil,  [who,  in  a  work  lately  pub 
lished  at  Rome,  has  the  following  passage,  which  I  owe  to 
the  kindness  of  a  friend  : 

GerdiL 

"  In  an  oath  one  ought  to  have  respect  to  the  intention 
of  the  party  swearing,  and  the  intention  of  the  party  to 
whom  the  oath  is  taken.  Whoso  swears  binds  himself  in 
virtue  of  the  words,  not  according  to  the  sense  he  retains 
in  his  own  mind,  but  in  the  sense  according  to  which  he 
perceives  that  they  are  understood  by  him  to  whom  the  oath  is 

10  made.  When  the  mind  of  the  one  is  discordant  with  the 
mind  of  the  other,  if  this  happens  by  deceit  or  cheat  of  the 
party  swearing,  he  is  bound  to  observe  the  oath  according 
to  the  right  sense  (sana  mente)  of  the  party  receiving  it ; 
but,  when  the  discrepancy  in  the  sense  comes  of  misunder 
standing,  without  deceit  of  the  party  swearing,  in  that  case 
he  is  not  bound,  except  to  that  to  which  he  had  in  mind  to 
wish  to  be  bound.  It  follows  hence,  that  whoso  uses  mental 
reservation  or  equivocation  in  the  oath,  in  order  to  deceive 
the  party  to  whom  he  offers  it,  sins  most  grievously,  and 

20  is  always  bound  to  observe  the  oath  in  the  sense  in  which 
he  knew  that  his  words  were  taken  by  the  other  party, 
according  to  the  decision  of  St.  Augustine,  '  They  are 
perjured,  who,  having  kept  the  words,  have  deceived  the 
expectations  of  those  to  whom  the  oath  was  taken.'  He 
who  swears  externally,  without  the  inward  intention  of 
swearing,  commits  a  most  grave  sin,  and  remains  all  the 
same  under  the  obligation  to  fulfil  it.  ...  In  a  word,  all  that 
is  contrary  to  good  faith,  is  iniquitous,  and  by  introducing 
the  name  of  God  the  iniquity  is  aggravated  by  the  guilt  of 

so  sacrilege." 

Natalis  Alexander. 

"  They  certainly  lie,  who  utter  the  words  of  an  oath,  and 
without  the  will  to  swear  or  bind  themselves  ;  or  who  make 
use  of  mental  reservations  and  equivocations  in  swearing, 
since  they  signify  by  words  what  they  have  not  in  mind, 

1  The  passage  in  [  ],  pp.  445-8,  was  omitted  in  1865,  where,  after 
Gerdil,  the  following  was  added,  Natalis  Alexander,  Contenson,  Concina, 
and  others. 


446  APPENDIX. 

contrary  to  the  end  for  which  language  was  instituted, 
viz.  as  signs  of  ideas.  Or  they  mean  something  else  than 
the  words  signify  in  themselves,  and  the  common  custom 
of  speech,  and  the  circumstances  of  persons  and  business  - 
matters  ;  and  thus  they  abuse  words  which  were  instituted 
for  the  cherishing  of  society." 

Contenson. 

"  Hence  is  apparent  how  worthy  of  condemnation  is  the 
temerity  of  those  half -taught  men,  who  give  a  colour  to 
lies  and  equivocations  by  the  words  and  instances  of  Christ. 
Than  whose  doctrine,  which  is  an  art  of  deceiving,  nothing  10 
can  be  more  pestilent.  And  that,  both  because  what  you 
do  not  wish  done  to  yourself,  you  should  not  do  to  another  ; 
now  the  patrons  of  equivocations  and  mental  reservations 
would  not  like  to  be  themselves  deceived  by  others,  &c.  .  .  . 
and  also  because  St.  Augustine,  &c.  .  .  .  In  truth,  as  there 
is  no  pleasant  living  with  those  whose  language  we  do  not 
understand,  and,  as  St.  Augustine  teaches,  a  man  would 
more  readily  live  with  his  dog  than  with  a  foreigner,  less 
pleasant  certainly  is  our  converse  with  those  who  make  use 
of  frauds  artificially  covered,  overreach  their  hearers  by  20 
deceits,  address  them  insidiously,  observe  the  right  moment, 
and  catch  at  words  to  their  purpose,  by  which  truth  is 
hidden  under  a  covering  ;  and  so  on  the  other  hand 
nothing  is  sweeter  than  the  society  of  those,  who  both  love 
and  speak  the  naked  truth,  .  .  .  without  their  mouth 
professing  one  thing  and  their  mind  hiding  another,  or 
spreading  before  it  the  cover  of  double  words.  Nor  does  it 
matter  that  they  colour  their  lies  with  the  name  of  equivoca 
tions  or  mental  reservations.  For  Hilary  says,  '  The  sense, 
not  the  speech,  makes  the  crime.'  '  30 

Concina  allows  of  what  I  shall  presently  call  evasions,  but 
nothing  beyond,  if  I  understand  him  ;  but  he  is  most 
vehement  against  mental  reservation  of  every  kind,  so  I 
quote  him. 

Concina. 

"  That  mode  of  speech,  which  some  theologians  call 
pure  mental  reservation,  others  call  reservation  not  simply 


APPENDIX.  447 

mental ;  that  language  which  to  me  is  lying,  to  the  greater 
part  of  recent  authors  is  only  amphibological.  ...  I  have  dis 
covered  that  nothing  is  adduced  by  more  recent  theologians 
for  the  lawful  use  of  amphibologies  which  has  not  been  made 
use  of  already  by  the  ancients,  whether  philosophers  or 
some  Fathers,  in  defence  of  lies.  Nor  does  there  seem  to 
me  other  difference  when  I  consider  their  respective 
grounds,  except  that  the  ancients  frankly  called  those 
modes  of  speech  lies,  and  the  more  recent  writers,  not  a 
10  few  of  them,  call  them  amphibological,  equivocal,  and 
material" 

In  another  place  he  quotes  Caramuel,  so  I  suppose  I  may 
do  so  too,  for  the  very  reason  that  his  theological  reputa 
tion  does  not  place  him  on  the  side  of  strictness.  Concina 
says,  "  Caramuel  himself,  who  bore  away  the  palm  from 
all  others  in  relaxing  the  evangelical  and  natural  law, 
says, 

Caramuel. 

"  I  have  an  innate  aversion  to  mental  reservations.  If 
they  are  contained  within  the  bounds  of  piety  and  sincerity, 
20  then  they  are  not  necessary  ;  .  .  .  but  if  [otherwise]  they 
are  the  destruction  of  human  society  and  sincerity,  and 
are  to  be  condemned  as  pestilent.  Once  admitted,  they 
open  the  way  to  all  lying,  all  perjury.  And  the  whole 
difference  in  the  matter  is,  that  what  yesterday  was  called 
a  lie,  changing,  not  its  nature  and  malice,  but  its  name,  is 
to-day  entitled  '  mental  reservation  ;  '  and  this  is  to 
sweeten  poison  with  sugar,  and  to  colour  guilt  with  the 
appearance  of  virtue." 

St.  Thomas. 

"  When  the  sense  of  the  party  swearing,  and  of  the 
so  party  to  whom  he  swears,  is  not  the  same,  if  this  proceeds 
from  the  deceit  of  the  former,  the  oath  ought  to  be  kept 
according  to  the  right  sense  of  the  party  to  whom  it  is 
made.  But  if  the  party  swearing  does  not  make  use  of 
deceit,  then  he  is  bound  according  to  his  own  sense." 

20  These  f  1  are  in  1864. 


448  APPENDIX. 

St.  Isidore. 

"  With  whatever  artifice  of  words  a  man  swears,  never 
theless  God  who  is  the  witness  of  his  conscience,  so  takes 
the  oath  as  he  understands  it,  to  whom  it  is  sworn.  And 
he  becomes  twice  guilty,  who  both  takes  the  name  of  God 
in  vain,  and  deceives  his  neighbour." 

St.  Augustine. 

"  I  do  not  question  that  this  is  most  justly  laid  down, 
that  the  promise  of  an  oath  must  be  fulfilled,  not  accord 
ing  to  the  words  of  the  party  taking  it,  but  according  to 
the  expectation  of  the  party  to  whom  it  is  taken,  of  which 
he  who  takes  it  is  aware."]  10 

[And  now,]  under  the  protection  of  these  authorities, 
I  say  as  follows  :— 

Casuistry  is  a  noble  science,  but  it  is  one  to  which  I  am 
led,  neither  by  my  abilities  nor  my  turn  of  mind.  Inde 
pendently,  then,  of  the  difficulties  of  the  subject,  and  the 
necessity,  before  forming  an  opinion,  of  knowing  more  of 
the  arguments  of  theologians  upon  it  than  I  do,  I  am  very 
unwilling  to  say  a  word  here  on  the  subject  of  Lying  and 
Equivocation.  But  I  consider  myself  bound  to  speak  ; 
and  therefore,  in  this  strait,  I  can  do  nothing  better,  even  20 
for  my  own  relief,  than  submit  myself  and  what  I  shall 
say  to  the  judgment  of  the  Church,  and  to  the  consent, 
so  far  as  in  this  matter  there  be  a  consent,  of  the  Schola 
Theologorum. 

Now,  in  the  case  of  one  of  those  special  and  rare  exigencies 
or  emergencies,  which  constitute  the  justa  causa  of  dis 
sembling  or  misleading,  whether  it  be  extreme  as  the 
defence  of  life,  or  a  duty  as  the  custody  of  a  secret,  or  of 
a  personal  nature  as  to  repel  an  impertinent  inquirer,  or  a 
matter  too  trivial  to  provoke  question,  as  in  dealing  with  so 
children  or  madmen,  there  seem  to  be  four  courses  : — 

1.  To  say  the  thing  that  is  not.  Here  I  draw^  the  reader's 
attention  to  the  words  material  and  formal.  ''  Thou  shalt 
not  kill ;  "  murder  is  the  formal  transgression  of  this  com- 

10  The  matter  in  [  ],  pp.  445-8,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


(NOTE  G.)  449 

mandment,  but  accidental  homicide  is  the  material  trans 
gression.  The  matter  of  the  act  is  the  same  in  both  cases  ; 
but  in  the  homicide,  there  is  nothing  more  than  the  act, 
whereas  in  murder  there  must  be  the  intention,  &c.  which 
constitutes  the  formal  sin.  So,  again,  an  executioner 
commits  the  material  act,  but  not  that  formal  killing 
which  is  a  breach  of  the  commandment.  So  a  man,  who, 
simply  to  save  himself  from  starving,  takes  a  loaf  which  is 
not  his  own,  commits  only  the  material,  not  the  formal 

10  act  of  stealing,  that  is,  he  does  not  commit  a  sin.  And  so 
a  baptized  Christian,  external  to  the  Church,  who  is  in 
invincible  ignorance,  is  a  material  heretic,  and  not  a  formal. 
And  in  like  manner,  if  to  say  the  thing  which  is  not  be  in 
special  cases  lawful,  it  may  be  called  a  material  lie. 

The  first  mode  then  which  has  been  suggested  of  meeting 

those  special  cases,  in  which  to  mislead  by  words  has 

a  sufficient  object,  or  has  a  just  cause,  is  by  a  material  lie. 

The  second  mode  is  by  an  cequivocatio,  which  is  not 

equivalent  to  the  English  word  "  equivocation,"  but  means 

20  sometimes  a  play  upon  words,  sometimes  an  evasion^,  we 
must  take  these  two  modes  of  misleading  separately.) 

2.  A  play  upon  words.    St.  Alfonso  certainly  says  that 
a  play  upon  words  is  allowable  ;    and,   speaking  under 
correction,  I  should  say  that  he  does  so  on  the  ground  that 
lying  is  not  a  sin  against  justice,  that  is,  against  our  neigh 
bour,  but  a  sin  against  God  ;  because  words  are  the  signs 
of  ideas,  and  therefore  if  a  word  denotes  two  ideas,  we  are 
at  liberty  to  use  it  in  either  of  its  senses  :    but  I  think 
I  must  be  incorrect  [here]  in  some  respect  (in  supposing 

30  that  the  Saint  does  not  recognize  a  lie  as  an  injustice), 
because  the  Catechism  of  the  Council,  as  I  have  quoted  it 
at  p.  370,  says,  "  Vanitate  et  mendacio  fides  ac  veritas 
tolluntur,  arctissima  vincula  societatis  humance  ;  quibus 
sublatis,  sequitur  summa  vitae  confusio,  ut  homines  nihil 
a  dcemonibus  differ  re  videantur." 

3.  Evasion ; — when,  for  instance,  the  speaker  diverts 
the  attention  of  the  hearer  to  another  subject ;    suggests 
an  irrelevant  fact  or  makes  a  remark,  which  confuses  him 

17  object]  occasion 

26  God  ;   because  words  are]  God.    God  has  made  words 
APOLOGIA  Q 


450  APPENDIX. 

and  gives  him  something  to  think  about  ;  throws  dust 
into  his  eyes  ;  states  some  truth,  from  which  he  is  quite 
sure  his  hearer  will  draw  an  illogical  and  untrue  conclusion, 
and  the  like.  [Bishop  Butler  seems  distinctly  to  sanction 
such  a  proceeding,  in  a  passage  which  I  shall  extract 
below.] 

The  greatest  school  of  evasion,  I  speak  seriously,  is  the 
House  of  Commons  ;  and  necessarily  so,  from  the  nature 
of  the  case.  And  the  hustings  is  another. 

An  instance  is  supplied  in  the  history  of  St.  Athanasius  :  10 
he  was  in  a  boat  on  the  Nile,  flying  persecution  ;  and  he 
found  himself  pursued.  On  this  he  ordered  his  men  to 
turn  his  boat  round,  and  ran  right  to  meet  the  satellites 
of  Julian.  They  asked  him,  Have  you  seen  Athanasius  ? 
and  he  told  his  followers  to  answer,  "  Yes,  he  is  close  to 
you."  They  went  on  their  course  (as  if  they  were  sure  to 
come  up  to  him),  and  he  ran  (back)  into  Alexandria,  and 
there  lay  hid  till  the  end  of  the  persecution. 

I  gave  another  instance  above,  in  reference  to  a  doctrine 
of  religion.  The  early  Christians  did  their  best  to  conceal  20 
their  Creed  on  account  of  the  misconceptions  of  the  heathen 
about  it.  Were  the  question  asked  of  them,  "  Do  you 
worship  a  Trinity  ?  "  and  did  they  answer,  "  We  worship 
one  God,  and  none  else  ;  "  the  inquirer  might,  or  would, 
infer  that  they  did  not  acknowledge  the  Trinity  of  Divine 
Persons. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  draw  the  line  between  these  evasions, 
and  what  are  commonly  called  in  English  equivocations  ; 
and  of  this  difficulty,  again,  I  think,  the  scenes  in  the  House 
of  Commons  supply  us  with  illustrations.  so 

4.  The  fourth  method  is  silence.  For  instance,  not 
giving  the  whole  truth  in  a  court  of  law.  If  St.  Alban, 
after  dressing  himself  in  the  Priest's  clothes,  and  being 
taken  before  the  persecutor,  had  been  able  to  pass  off  for 
his  friend,  and  so  gone  to  martyrdom  without  being  dis 
covered  ;  and  had  he  in  the  course  of  examination  answered 
all  questions  truly,  but  not  given  the  whole  truth,  the 
most  important  truth,  that  he  was  the  wrong  person,  he 
would  have  come  very  near  to  telling  a  lie,  for  a  half- 

17  and]  while 


(NOTE  G.)  451 

truth  is  often  a  falsehood.  And  his  defence  must  have 
been  the  justa  causa,  viz.  either  that  he  might  in  charity 
or  for  religion's  sake  save  a  priest,  or  again  that  the  judge 
had  no  right  to  interrogate  him  on  the  subject. 

Now,  of  these  four  modes  of  misleading  others  by  the 
tongue,  when  there  is  a  justa  causa  (supposing  there  can 
be  such), — (l)a  material  lie,  that  is  an  untruth  which  is  not 
a  lie,  (2)  an  equivocation,  (3)  an  evasion,  and  (4)  silence, — 
First,  I  have  no  difficulty  whatever  in  recognizing  as  allow- 

10  able  the  method  of  silence. 

Secondly,  But,  if  I  allow  of  silence,  why  not  of  the 
method  of  material  lying,  since  half  of  a  truth  is  often 
a  lie  ?  And,  again,  if  all  killing  be  not  murder,  nor  all 
taking  from  another  stealing,  why  must  all  untruths  be 
lies  ?  Now  I  will  say  freely  that  I  think  it  difficult  to 
answer  this  question,  whether  it  be  urged  by  St.  Clement 
or  by  Milton  ;  at  the  same  time,  I  never  have  acted,  and 
I  think,  when  it  came  to  the  point,  I  never  should  act  upon 
such  a  theory  myself,  except  in  one  case,  stated  below. 

20  This  I  say  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  speak  hardly  of 
Catholic  theologians,  on  the  ground  that  they  admit  text 
books  which  allow  of  equivocation.  They  are  asked,  how 
can  we  trust  you,  when  such  are  your  views  ?  but  such 
views,  as  I  already  have  said,  need  not  have  any  thing  to 
do  with  their  own  practice,  merely  from  the  circumstance 
that  they  are  contained  in  their  text-books.  A  theologian 
draws  out  a  system  ;  he  does  it  partly  as  a  scientific 
speculation  :  but  much  more  for  the  sake  of  others.  He 
is  lax  for  the  sake  of  others,  not  of  himself.  His  own 

so  standard  of  action  is  much  higher  than  that  which  he 
imposes  upon  men  in  general.  One  special  reason  why 
religious  men,  after  drawing  out  a  theory,  are  unwilling 
to  act  upon  it  themselves,  is  this  :  that  they  practically 
acknowledge  a  broad  distinction  between  their  reason  and 
their  conscience  ;  and  that  they  feel  the  latter  to  be  the 
safer  guide,  though  the  former  may  be  the  clearer,  nay  even 
though  it  be  the  truer.  They  would  rather  be  wrong  with 
(the  sanction  of)  their  conscience,  than  (be)  right  with  (the 
mere  judgment  of)  their  reason.  And  again  here  is  this 

40  more  tangible  difficulty  in  the  case  of  exceptions  to  the 
37  wrong]  in  error 


452  APPENDIX. 

rule  of  Veracity,  that  so  very  little  external  help  is  given 
us  in  drawing  the  line,  as  to  when  untruths  are  allowable 
and  when  not ;  whereas  that  sort  of  killing  which  is  not 
murder,  is  most  definitely  marked  off  by  legal  enactments, 
so  that  it  cannot  possibly  be  mistaken  for  such  killing  as  is 
murder.  On  the  other  hand  the  cases  of  exemption  from 
the  rule  of  Veracity  are  left  to  the  private  judgment  of  the 
individual,  and  he  may  easily  be  led  on  from  acts  which  are 
allowable  to  acts  which  are  not.  Now  this  remark  does 
not  apply  to  such  acts  as  are  related  in  Scripture,  as  being  10 
done  by  a  particular  inspiration,  for  in  such  cases  there  is 
a  command.  If  I  had  my  own  way,  I  would  oblige  society, 
that  is,  its  great  men,  its  lawyers,  its  divines,  its  literature, 
publicly  to  acknowledge,  as  such,  those  instances  of 
untruth  which  are  not  lies,  as  for  instance,  untruths  in 
war  ;  and  then  there  could  be  no  danger  [in  them]  to  the 
individual  Catholic,  for  he  would  be  acting  under  a  rule. 

Thirdly,  as  to  playing  upon  words,  or  equivocation, 
I  suppose  it  is  from  the  English  habit,  but,  without  mean 
ing  any  disrespect  to  a  great  Saint,  or  wishing  to  set  myself  20 
up,  or  taking  my  conscience  for  more  than  it  is  worth,  I  can 
only  say  as  a  fact,  that  I  admit  it  as  little  as  the  rest  of 
my  countrymen  :  and,  without  any  reference  to  the  right 
and  the  wrong  of  the  matter,  of  this  I  am  sure,  that,  if 
there  is  one  thing  more  than  another  which  prejudices 
Englishmen  against  the  Catholic  Church,  it  is  the  doctrine 
of  great  authorities  on  the  subject  of  equivocation.  For 
myself,  I  can  fancy  myself  thinking  it  was  allowable  in 
extreme  cases  for  me  to  lie,  but  never  to  equivocate. 
Luther  said,  "  Pecca  fortiter."  I  anathematize  the  formal  so 
sentiment,  but  there  is  a  truth  in  it,  when  spoken  of  material 
acts. 

Fourthly,  I  think  evasion,  as  I  have  described  it,  to  be 
perfectly  allowable  ;  indeed,  I  do  not  know,  who  does  not 
use  it,  under  circumstances  ;  but  that  a  good  deal  of  moral 
danger  is  attached  to  its  use  ;  and  that,  the  cleverer  a  man 
is,  the  more  likely  he  is  to  pass  the  line  of  Christian 
duty. 

16  danger]  perplexity 

17  be  acting  under  a  rule]  not  be  taking  the  law  into  his  own  hands 
30  the]  his 


(NOTE  G.)  453 

But  it  may  be  said,  that  such  decisions  do  not  meet  the 
particular  difficulties  for  which  provision  is  required  ;  let 
us  then  take  some  instances. 

1.  I  do  not  think  it  right  to  tell  lies  to  children,  even 
on  this  account,  that  they  are  sharper  than  we  think 
them,  and  will  soon  find  out  what  we  are  doing  ;  and  our 
example  will  be  a  very  bad  training  for  them.  And  so  of 
equivocation  :  it  is  easy  of  imitation,  and  we  ourselves 
shall  be  sure  to  get  the  worst  of  it  hi  the  end. 

10  2.  If  an  early  Father  defends  the  patriarch  Jacob  in  his 
mode  of  gaining  his  father's  blessing,  on  the  ground  that 
the  blessing  was  divinely  pledged  to  him  already,  that  it 
was  his,  and  that  his  father  and  brother  were  acting  at 
once  against  his  own  rights  and  the  divine  will,  it  does  not 
follow  from  this  that  such  conduct  is  a  pattern  to  us,  who 
have  no  supernatural  means  of  determining  when  an 
untruth  becomes  a  material,  and  not  a  formal  lie.  It 
seems  to  me  very  dangerous,  be  it  (ever)  allowable  or  not, 
to  lie  or  equivocate  in  order  to  preserve  some  great  temporal 

20  or  spiritual  benefit,  nor  does  St.  Alfonso  here  say  any  thing 
to  the  contrary,  for  he  is  not  discussing  the  question  of 
danger  or  expedience. 

3.  As  to  Johnson's  case  of  a  murderer  asking  you  which 
way  a  man  had  gone,  I  should  have  anticipated  that,  had 
such  a  difficulty  happened  to  him,  his  first  act  would  have 
been  to  knock  the  man  down,  and  to  call  out  for  the  police  ; 
and  next,  if  he  was  worsted  in  the  conflict,  he  would  not 
have  given  the  ruffian  the  information  he  asked,  at  what 
ever  risk  to  himself.     I  think  he  would  have  let  himself 

so  be  killed  first.  I  do  not  think  that  he  would  have  told 
a  lie. 

4.  A  secret  is  a  more  difficult  case.     Supposing  some 
thing  has  been  confided  to  me  in  the  strictest  secrecy, 
which  could  not  be  revealed  without  great  disadvantage  to 
another,  what  am  I  to  do  ?    If  I  am  a  lawyer,  I  am  pro 
tected  by  my  profession.     I  have  a  right  to  treat  with 
extreme  indignation  any  question  which  trenches  on  the 
inviolability  of  my  position  ;   but,  supposing  I  was  driven 
up  into  a  corner,  I  think  I  should  have  a  right  to  say  an 

40  untruth,  or  that,  under  such  circumstances,  a  lie  would 
be  material,  but  it  is  almost  an  impossible  case,  for  the 


454  APPENDIX. 

law  would  defend  me.  In  like  manner,  as  a  priest,  I  should 
think  it  lawful  to  speak  as  if  I  knew  nothing  of  what 
passed  in  confession.  And  I  think  in  these  cases,  I  do  in 
fact  possess  that  guarantee,  that  I  am  not  going  by  private 
judgment,  which  just  now  I  demanded  ;  for  society  would 
bear  me  out,  whether  as  a  lawyer  or  as  a  priest,  (in  hold 
ing)  that  I  had  a  duty  to  my  client  or  penitent,  such,  that 
an  untruth  in  the  matter  was  not  a  lie.  A  common  type 
of  this  permissible  denial,  be  it  material  lie  or  evasion,  is 
at  the  moment  supplied  to  me  :( — )an  artist  asked  a  Prime  10 
Minister,  who  was  sitting  to  him,  "  What  news,  my  Lord, 
from  France  ?  "  He  answered,  "  /  do  not  know ;  I  have 
not  read  the  Papers." 

5.  A  more  difficult  question  is,  when  to  accept  con 
fidence  has  not  been  a  duty.  Supposing  a  man  wishes  to 
keep  the  secret  that  he  is  the  author  of  a  book,  and  he  is 
plainly  asked  on  the  subject.  Here  I  should  ask  the 
previous  question,  whether  any  one  has  a  right  to  publish 
what  he  dare  not  avow.  It  requires  to  have  traced  the 
bearings  and  results  of  such  a  principle,  before  being  sure  20 
of  it  ;  but  certainly,  for  myself,  I  am  no  friend  of  strictly 
anonymous  writing.  Next,  supposing  another  has  con 
fided  to  you  the  secret  of  his  authorship  :( — )there  are 
persons  who  would  have  no  scruple  at  all  in  giving  a  denial 
to  impertinent  questions  asked  them  on  the  subject. 
I  have  heard  a  great  man  in  his  day  at  Oxford,  warmly 
contend,  as  if  he  could  not  enter  into  any  other  view  of 
the  matter,  that,  if  he  had  been  trusted  by  a  friend  with 
the  secret  of  his  being  author  of  a  certain  book,  and  he 
were  asked  by  a  third  person,  if  his  friend  was  not  (as  he  so 
really  was)  the  author  of  it,  he  ought  without  any  scruple 
and  distinctly  to  answer  that  he  did  not  know.  He  had 
an  existing  duty  towards  the  author  ;  he  had  none  towards 
his  inquirer.  The  author  had  a  claim  on  him  ;  an  imper 
tinent  questioner  had  none  at  all.  But  here  again  I  de 
siderate  some  leave,  recognized  by  society,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  formulas  "  Not  at  home,"  and  "  Not  guilty,"  in 
order  to  give  me  the  right  of  saying  what  is  a  material 
untruth.  And  moreover,  I  should  here  also  ask  the  previous 
question,  Have  I  any  right  to  accept  such  a  confidence  ?  40 
have  I  any  right  to  make  such  a  promise  ?  and,  if  it  be 


(NOTE  G.)  455 

an  unlawful  promise,  is  it  binding  at  the  expense  of  a  lie  ? 
I  am  not  attempting  to  solve  these  difficult  questions,  but 
they  have  to  be  carefully  examined.  (And  now  I  have 
said  more  than  I  had  intended  on  a  question  of  casuistry.) 

[As  I  put  into  print  some  weeks  ago  various  extracts 
from  authors  relating  to  the  subject  which  I  have  been 
considering,  I  conclude  by  inserting  them  here,  though  they 
will  not  have  a  very  methodical  appearance. 

For  instance,  St.  Dorotheus  :  "  Sometimes  the  necessity 
10  of  some  matter  urges  (incumbit),  which,  unless  you  some 
what  conceal  and  dissemble  it,  will  turn  into  a  greater 
trouble."  And  he  goes  on  to  mention  ,the  case  of  saving 
a  man  who  has  committed  homicide  from  his  pursuers  : 
and  he  adds  that  it  is  not  a  thing  that  can  be  done  often, 
but  once  in  a  long  time. 

St.  Clement  in  like  manner  speaks  of  it  only  as  a  neces 
sity,  and  as  a  necessary  medicine. 

Origen,  after  saying  that  God's  commandment  makes  it 
a  plain  duty  to  speak  the  truth,  adds,  that  a  man,  "  when 
20  necessity  urges,"  may  avail  himself  of  a  lie,  as  medicine, 
that  is,  to  the  extent  of  Judith's  conduct  towards  Holo- 
fernes  ;  and  he  adds  that  that  necessity  may  be  the  obtain 
ing  of  a  great  good,  as  Jacob  hindered  his  father  from 
giving  the  blessing  to  Esau  against  the  will  of  God. 

Cassian  says,  that  the  use  of  a  lie,  in  order  to  be  allow 
able,  must  be  like  the  use  of  hellebore,  which  is  itself 
poison,  unless  a  man  has  a  fatal  disease  on  him.  He  adds, 
"  Without  the  condition  of  an  extreme  necessity,  it  is 
a  present  ruin." 

30  St.  John  Chrysostom  defends  Jacob  on  the  ground  that 
his  deceiving  his  father  was  not  done  for  the  sake  of  tem 
poral  gain,  but  in  order  to  fulfil  the  providential  purpose 
of  God  ;  and  he  says,  that,  as  Abraham  was  not  a  murderer, 
though  he  was  minded  to  kill  his  son,  so  an  untruth  need 
not  be  a  lie.  And  he  adds,  that  often  such  a  deceit  is  the 
greatest  possible  benefit  to  the  man  who  is  deceived,  and 
therefore  allowable.  Also  St.  Hilary,  St.  John  Climacus, 
&c.,  in  Thomassin,  Concina,  the  Melanges,  &c. 

1  at  the  expense  of]  when  it  cannot  be  kept  without 

5  The  matter  from  here  to  page  470  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


456  APPENDIX. 

Various  modern  Catholic  divines  hold  this  doctrine  of 
the  "  material  lie  "  also.  I  will  quote  three  passages  in 
point. 

Cataneo  :   "  Be  it  then  well  understood,  that  the  obliga 
tion  to  veracity,  that  is,  of  conforming  our  words  to  the 
sentiments  of  our  mind,  is  founded  principally  upon  the 
necessity  of  human  intercourse,  for  which  reason  they 
(i.e.  words)  ought  not  and  cannot  be  lawfully  opposed  to 
this  end,  so  just,  so  necessary,  and  so  important,  without 
which,  the  world  would  become  a  Babylon  of  confusion.  10 
And  this  would  in  a  great  measure  be  really  the  result, 
as  often  as  a  man  should  be  unable  to  defend  secrets  of 
high  importance,  and  other  evils  would  follow,  even  worse 
than  confusion,  in  their  nature  destructive  of  this  very 
intercourse  between  man  and  man  for  which  speech  was 
instituted.     Every  body  must  see  the  advantage  a  hired 
assassin  would  have,  if  supposing  he  did  not  know  by  sight 
the  person  he  was  commissioned  to  kill,  I  being  asked  by 
the  rascal  at  the  moment  he  was  standing  in  doubt  with 
his  gun  cocked,  were  obliged  to  approve  of  his  deed  by  20 
keeping  silence,  or  to  hesitate,  or  lastly  to  answer  '  Yes, 
that  is  the  man.'     [Then  follow  other  similar  cases.]     In 
such  and  similar  cases,  in  which  your  sincerity  is  unjustly 
assailed,  when  no  other  way  more  prompt  or  more  efficacious 
presents  itself,  and  when  it  is  not  enough  to  say,  '  I  do 
not  know,'  let  such  persons  be  met  openly  with  a  downright 
resolute  '  No  '  without  thinking  upon  any  thing  else.    For 
such  a  *  No  '  is  conformable  to  the  universal  opinion  of 
men,  who  are  the  judges  of  words,  and  who  certainly  have 
not  placed  upon  them  obligations  to  the  injury  of  the  so 
Human  Republic,  nor  ever  entered  into  a  compact  to  use 
them  in  behalf  of  rascals,  spies,  incendiaries,  and  thieves. 
I  repeat  that  such  a  '  No  '  is  conformable  to  the  universal 
mind  of  man,  and  with  this  mind  your  own  mind  ought  to 
be  in  union  and  alliance.    Who  does  not  see  the  manifest 
advantage   which   highway   robbers   would   derive,    were 
travellers  when  asked  if  they  had  gold,  jewels,  &c.,  obliged 
either  to  invent  tergiversations  or  to  answer  '  Yes,  we 
have  ?  '     Accordingly  in  such  circumstances  that  '  No  ' 

22  These  [  ]  are  in  1864. 


APPENDIX.  457 

which  you  utter  [see  Card.  Pallav.  lib.  iii.  c.  xi.  n.  23, 
de  Fide,  Spe,  &c.]  remains  deprived  of  its  proper  meaning, 
and  is  like  a  piece  of  coin,  from  which  by  the  command 
of  the  government  the  current  value  has  been  withdrawn, 
so  that  by  using  it  you  become  in  no  sense  guilty  of  lying." 
Bolgeni  says,  "  We  have  therefore  proved  satisfactorily, 
and  with  more  than  moral  certainty,  that  an  exception 
occurs  to  the  general  law  of  not  speaking  untruly,  viz. 
when  it  is  impossible  to  observe  a  certain  other  precept, 

10  more  important,  without  telling  a  lie.  Some  persons 
indeed  say,  that  in  the  cases  of  impossibility  which  are 
above  drawn  out,  what  is  said  is  not  a  lie.  But  a  man  who 
thus  speaks  confuses  ideas  and  denies  the  essential  characters 
of  things.  What  is  a  lie  ?  It  is  '  locutio  contra  mentem  ;  ' 
this  is  its  common  definition.  But  in  the  cases  of  impossi 
bility,  a  man  speaks  contra  mentem ;  that  is  clear  and 
evident.  Therefore  he  tells  a  lie.  Let  us  distinguish 
between  the  lie  and  the  sin.  In  the  above  cases,  the  man 
really  tells  a  lie,  but  this  lie  is  not  a  sin,  by  reason  of  the 

20  existing  impossibility.  To  say  that  in  those  cases  no  one 
has  a  right  to  ask,  that  the  words  have  a  meaning 
according  to  the  common  consent  of  men,  and  the  like, 
as  is  said  by  certain  authors  in  order  in  those  cases 
to  exempt  the  lie  from  sin,  this  is  to  commit  oneself  to 
frivolous  excuses,  and  to  subject  oneself  to  a  number 
of  retorts,  when  there  is  the  plain  reason  of  the  above- 
mentioned  fact  of  impossibility." 

And  the  Author  in  the  Melanges  Theologiques  :  "  We 
have  then  gained  this  truth,  and  it  is  a  conclusion  of  which 

so  we  have  not  the  smallest  doubt,  that  if  the  intention  of 
deceiving  our  neighbour  is  essential  to  a  lie,  it  is  allowable 
in  certain  cases  to  say  what  we  know  to  be  false,  as,  e.g. 
to  escape  from  a  great  danger.  .  .  . 

"  But,  let  no  one  be  alarmed,  it  is  never  allowable  to 
lie  ;  in  this  we  are  in  perfect  agreement  with  the  whole 
body  of  theologians.  The  only  point  in  which  we  differ 
from  them  is  in  what  we  mean  by  a  lie.  They  call  that 
a  lie  which  is  not  such  in  our  view,  or  rather,  if  you  will, 
what  in  our  view  is  only  a  material  lie  they  account  to  be 

40  both  formal  and  material." 

1,  2  These  [  ]  are  in  1864. 
Q3 


458  APPENDIX. 

Now  to  come  to  Anglican  authorities. 

Taylor  :  "  Whether  it  can  in  any  case  be  lawful  to  tell 
a  lie  ?  To  this  I  answer,  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament  do  indefinitely  and  severely 
forbid  lying.  Prov.  xiii.  5  ;  xxx.  8.  Ps.  v.  6.  John  viii.  44. 
Col.  iii.  9.  Rev.  xxi.  8.  27.  Beyond  these  things,  nothing 
can  be  said  in  condemnation  of  lying. 

"  But  then  lying  is  to  be  understood  to  be  something  said 
or  written  to  the  hurt  of  our  neighbour,  which  cannot  be 
understood  otherwise  than  to  differ  from  the  mind  of  him  10 
that  speaks.  '  A  lie  is  petulantly  or  from  a  desire  of  hurting, 
to  say  one  thing,  or  to  signify  it  by  gesture,  and  to  think 
another  thing l  :  '  so  Melancthon,  *  To  lie  is  to  deceive  our 
neighbour  to  his  hurt.'  For  in  this  sense  a  lie  is  naturally 
or  intrinsically  evil ;  that  is,  to  speak  a  lie  to  our  neighbour 
is  naturally  evil  ....  not  because  it  is  different  from  an 
eternal  truth.  ...  A  lie  is  an  injury  to  our  neighbour.  .  .  . 
There  is  in  mankind  a  universal  contract  implied  in  all  their 
intercourses.  .  .  In  justice  we  are  bound  to  speak,  so  as 
that  our  neighbour  do  not  lose  his  right,  which  by  our  20 
speaking  we  give  him  to  the  truth,  that  is,  in  our  heart. 
And  of  a  lie,  thus  defined,  which  is  injurious  to  our  neighbour, 
so  long  as  his  right  to  truth  remains,  it  is  that  St.  Austin 
affirms  it  to  be  simply  unlawful,  and  that  it  can  in  no 
case  be  permitted,  nisi  forte  regulas  quasdam  daturus  es. 
.  .  .  If  a  lie  be  unjust,  it  can  never  become  lawful ;  but, 
if  it  can  be  separate  from  injustice,  then  it  may  be  innocent. 
Here  then  I  consider 

"  This  right,  though  it  be  regularly  and  commonly  be 
longing  to  all  men,  yet  it  may  be  taken  away  by  a  superior  30 
right  intervening  ;  or  it  may  be  lost,  or  it  may  be  hindered, 
or  it  may  cease,  upon  a  greater  reason. 

'  Therefore  upon  this  account  it  was  lawful  for  the 
children  of  Israel  to  borrow  jewels  of  the  Egyptians,  which 
supposes  a  promise  of  restitution,  though  they  intended  not 
to  pry  them  back  again.  God  gave  commandment  so  to 
spoil  them,  and  the  Egyptians  were  divested  of  their 
rights,  and  were  to  be  used  like  enemies. 

"Mendacium  est  petulanter,  aut  cupiditate  nocendi,  aliud  loqui, 
seu  gestu  significare,  et  aliud  sen  tire." 


APPENDIX.  459 

"  It  is  lawful  to  tell  a  lie  to  children  or  to  madmen  ;  because 
they,  having  no  powers  of  judging,  have  no  right  to  truth  ; 
but  then,  the  lie  must  be  charitable  and  useful.  .  .  .  If  a  lie 
be  told,  it  must  be  such  as  is  for  their  good  .  .  .  and  so  do 
physicians  to  their  patients.  .  .  .  This  and  the  like  were  so 
usual,  so  permitted  to  physicians,  that  it  grew  to  a  proverb, 
'  You  lie  like  a  doctor 2  ;  '  which  yet  was  always  to  be 
understood  in  the  way  of  charity,  and  with  honour  to  the 
profession.  ...  To  tell  a  lie  for  charity,  to  save  a  man's 

10  life,  the  life  of  a  friend,  of  a  husband,  of  a  prince,  of  a  useful 
and  a  public  person,  hath  not  only  been  done  at  all  times, 
but  commended  by  great  and  wise  and  good  men.  .  .  .  Who 
would  not  save  his  father's  life  ...  at  the  charge  of  a 
harmless  lie,  from  the  rage  of  persecutors  or  tyrants  ?  .  .  . 
When  the  telling  of  a  truth  will  certainly  be  the  cause  of 
evil  to  a  man,  though  he  have  right  to  truth,  yet  it  must 
not  be  given  to  him  to  his  harm.  .  .  .  Every  truth  is  no 
more  justice,  than  every  restitution  of  a  straw  to  the  right 
owner  is  a  duty.  '  Be  not  over-righteous,'  says  Solomon. 

20  ...  If  it  be  objected,  that  we  must  not  tell  a  lie  for  God, 
therefore  much  less  for  our  brother,  I  answer,  that  it  does 
not  follow  ;  for  God  needs  not  a  lie,  but  our  brother  does.  .  . . 
Deceiving  the  enemy  by  the  stratagem  of  actions  or  words, 
is  not  properly  lying  ;  for  this  supposes  a  conversation,  of 
law  or  peace,  trust  or  promise  explicit  or  implicit.  A  lie 
is  a  deceiving  of  a  trust  or  confidence." — Taylor,  vol.  xiii. 
pp.  351—371,  ed.  Heber. 

It  is  clear  that  Taylor  thought  that  veracity  was  one 
branch  of  justice  ;  a  social  virtue  ;  under  the  second 

so  table  of  the  law,  not  under  the  first ;  only  binding,  when 
those  to  whom  we  speak  have  a  claim  of  justice  upon  us, 
which  ordinarily  all  men  have.  Accordingly,  in  cases  where 
a  neighbour  has  no  claim  of  justice  upon  us,  there  is  no 
opportunity  of  exercising  veracity,  as,  for  instance,  when 
he  is  mad,  or  is  deceived  by  us  for  his  own  advantage.  And 
hence,  in  such  cases,  a  lie  is  not  really  a  lie,  as  he  says  in 
one  place,  "  Deceiving  the  enemy  is  not  properly  lying." 
Here  he  seems  to  make  that  distinction  common  to 
Catholics  ;  viz.  between  what  they  call  a  material  act  and 

a  Mentiris  ut  medicus. 


460  APPENDIX. 

a  formal  act.  Thus  Taylor  would  maintain,  that  to  say 
the  thing  that  is  not  to  a  madman,  has  the  matter  of  a  lie, 
but  the  man  who  says  it  as  little  tells  a  formal  lie,  as  the 
judge,  sheriff,  or  executioner  murders  the  man  whom  he 
certainly  kills  by  forms  of  law. 

Other  English  authors  take  precisely  the  same  view,  viz. 
that  veracity  is  a  kind  of  justice, — that  our  neighbour 
generally  has  a  right  to  have  the  truth  told  him  ;  but  that 
he  may  forfeit  that  right,  or  lose  it  for  the  time,  and  then 
to  say  the  thing  that  is  not  to  him  is  no  sin  against  veracity,  10 
that  is,  no  lie.  Thus  Milton  says  3,  "  Veracity  is  a  virtue, 
by  which  we  speak  true  things  to  him  to  whom  it  is  equitable, 
and  concerning  what  things  it  is  suitable  for  the  good  of 
our  neighbour.  ...  All  dissimulation  is  not  wrong,  for  it 
is  not  necessary  for  us  always  openly  to  bring  out  the 
truth  ;  that  only  is  blamed  which  is  malicious.  ...  I  do 
not  see  why  that  cannot  be  said  of  lying  which  can  be  said 
of  homicide  and  other  matters,  which  are  not  weighed  so 
much  by  the  deed  as  by  the  object  and  end  of  acting.  What 
man  in  his  senses  will  deny  that  there  are  those  whom  we  20 
have  the  best  of  grounds  for  considering  that  we  ought 
to  deceive, — as  boys,  madmen,  the  sick,  the  intoxicated, 
enemies,  men  in  error,  thieves  ?  ...  Is  it  a  point  of  conscience 
not  to  deceive  them  ?  .  .  .  I  would  ask,  by  which  of  the 
commandments  is  a  lie  forbidden  ?  You  will  say,  by  the 
ninth.  Come,  read  it  out,  and  you  will  agree  with  me. 
For  whatever  is  here  forbidden  comes  under  the  head  of 
injuring  one's  neighbour.  If  then  any  lie  does  not  injure 
one's  neighbour,  certainly  it  is  not  forbidden  by  this  com 
mandment.  It  is  on  this  ground  that,  by  the  judgment  of  30 
theologians,  we  shall  acquit  so  many  holy  men  of  lying. 
Abraham,  who  said  to  his  servants  that  he  would  return 
with  his  son  ;  .  .  the  wise  man  understood  that  it  did  not 
matter  to  his  servants  to  know  [that  his  son  would  not 
return],  and  that  it  was  at  the  moment  expedient  for  himself 
that  they  should  not  know.  .  .  Joseph  would  be  a  man  of 
many  lies  if  the  common  definition  of  lying  held  ;  [also] 
Moses,  Rahab,  Ehud,  Jael,  Jonathan."  Here  again 

3  The  Latin  original  is  given  at  the  end  of  the  Appendix. 
34,  36,  37  These  [  ]  are  in  1864. 


APPENDIX.  461 

veracity  is  due  only  on  the  score  of  justice  towards  the  person 
whom  we  speak  with  ;  and,  if  he  has  no  claim  upon  us  to 
speak  the  truth,  we  need  not  speak  the  truth  to  him. 

And  so,  again,  Paley  :  "  A  lie  is  a  breach  of  promise ; 
for  whoever  seriously  addresses  his  discourse  to  another 
tacitly  promises  to  speak  the  truth,  because  he  knows  that 
the  truth  is  expected.  Or  the  obligation  of  veracity  may 
be  made  out  from  the  direct  ill  consequences  of  lying  to 
social  happiness.  .  .  There  sue  falsehoods  which  are  not  lies  ; 

10  that  is,  which  are  not  criminal."  (Here,  let  it  be  observed, 
is  the  same  distinction  as  in  Taylor  between  material 
and  formal  untruths.)  "  1.  When  no  one  is  deceived.  .  . 
2.  When  the  person  to  whom  you  speak  has  no  right  to 
know  the  truth,  or,  more  properly,  when  little  or  no 
inconveniency  results  from  the  want  of  confidence  in  such 
cases,  as  where  you  tell  a  falsehood  to  a  madman  for  his  own 
advantage  ;  to  a  robber,  to  conceal  your  property  ;  to  an 
assassin,  to  defeat  or  divert  him  from  his  purpose.  .  .  It  is 
upon  this  principle  that,  by  the  laws  of  war,  it  is  allowable 

20  to  deceive  an  enemy  by  feints,  false  colours,  spies,  false 
intelligence.  .  .  Many  people  indulge,  in  serious  discourse, 
a  habit  of  fiction  or  exaggeration.  .  .  So  long  as  .  .  their 
narratives,  though  false,  are  inoffensive,  it  may  seem  a 
superstitious  regard  to  truth  to  censure  them  merely  for 
truth's  sake."  Then  he  goes  on  to  mention  reasons  against 
such  a  practice,  adding,  "  I  have  seldom  known  any  one 
who  deserted  truth  in  trifles  that  could  be  trusted  in  matters 
'of  importance." — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  123. 

Dr.  Johnson,  who,  if  any  one,  has  the  reputation  of  being 

30  a  sturdy  moralist,  thus  speaks  : — 

"  We  talked,"  says  Boswell,  "of  the  casuistical  question,— 
whether  it  was  allowable  at  any  time  to  depart  from  truth." 
Johnson.  "  The  general  rule  is,  that  truth  should  never 
be  violated  ;  because  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
the  comfort  of  life,  that  we  should  have  a  full  security  by 
mutual  faith  ;  and  occasional  inconveniences  should  be 
willingly  suffered,  that  we  may  preserve  it.  There  must, 
however,  be  some  exceptions.  If,  for  instance,  a  murderer 
should  ask  you  which  way  a  man  is  gone,  you  may  tell  him 

40  what  is  not  true,  because  you  are  under  a  previous  obligation 
not  to  betray  a  man  to  a  murderer."  Boswell.  "  Sup- 


462  APPENDIX. 

posing  the  person  who  wrote  Junius  were  asked  whether 
he  was  the  author,  might  he  deny  it  ?  "  Johnson.  "  I 
don't  know  what  to  say  to  this.  If  you  were  sure  that  he 
wrote  Junius,  would  you,  if  he  denied  it,  think  as  well  of 
him  afterwards  ?  Yet  it  may  be  urged,  that  what  a  man 
has  no  right  to  ask,  you  may  refuse  to  communicate  ;  and 
there  is  no  other  effectual  mode  of  preserving  a  secret,  and 
an  important  secret,  the  discovery  of  which  may  be  very 
hurtful  to  you,  but  a  flat  denial ;  for  if  you  are  silent,  or 
hesitate,  or  evade,  it  will  be  held  equivalent  to  a  confession.  10 
But  stay,  sir  ;  here  is  another  case.  Supposing  the  author 
had  told  me  confidentially  that  he  had  written  Junius, 
and  I  were  asked  if  he  had,  I  should  hold  myself  at  liberty 
to  deny  it,  as  being  under  a  previous  promise,  express  or 
implied,  to  conceal  it.  Now  what  I  ought  to  do  for  the 
author,  may  I  not  do  for  myself  ?  But  I  deny  the  lawful 
ness  of  telling  a  lie  to  a  sick  man  for  fear  of  alarming  him. 
You  have  no  business  with  consequences  ;  you  are  to  tell 
the  truth.  Besides,  you  are  not  sure  what  effect  your  telling 
him  that  he  is  in  danger  may  have  ;  it  may  bring  his  dis-  20 
temper  to  a  crisis,  and  that  may  cure  him.  Of  all  lying 
I  have  the  greatest  abhorrence  of  this,  because  I  believe 
it  has  been  frequently  practised  on  myself." — Boswell's 
Life,  vol.  iv.  p.  277. 

There  are  English  authors  who  allow  of  mental  reserva 
tion  and  equivocation  ;  such  is  Jeremy  Taylor. 

He  says,  "  In  the  same  cases  in  which  it  is  lawful  to  tell 
a  lie,  in  the  same  cases  it  is  lawful  to  use  a  mental  reserva 
tion."— Ibid,  p.  374. 

He  says,  too,  "  When  the  things  are  true  in  several  so 
senses,  the  not  explicating  in  what  sense  I  mean  the  words 
is  not  a  criminal  reservation.  .  .  But  1.  this  liberty  is  not 
to  be  used  by  inferiors,  but  by  superiors  only  ;  2.  not  by 
those  that  are  interrogated,  but  by  them  which  speak 
voluntarily  ;  3.  not  by  those  which  speak  of  duty,  but 
which  speak  of  grace  and  kindness." — Ibid.  p.  378. 

Bishop  Butler,  the  first  of  Anglican  authorities,  writing 
in  his  grave  and  abstract  way,  seems  to  assert  a  similar 
doctrine  in  the  following  passage  : — 

"  Though  veracity,  as  well  as  justice,  is  to  be  our  rule  of  40 


APPENDIX.  463 

life,  it  must  be  added,  otherwise  a  snare  will  be  laid  in  the 
way  of  some  plain  men,  that  the  use  of  common  forms  of 
speech  generally  understood,  cannot  be  falsehood  ;  and,  in 
general,  that  there  can  be  no  designed  falsehood  without 
designing  to  deceive.  It  must  likewise  be  observed,  that, 
in  numberless  cases,  a  man  may  be  under  the  strictest  obliga 
tions  to  what  lie  foresees  will  deceive,  without  his  intending  it. 
For  it  is  impossible  not  to  foresee,  that  the  words  and  actions 
of  men  in  different  ranks  and  employments,  and  of  different 

10  educations,  will  perpetually  be  mistaken  by  each  other  ;  and 
it  cannot  but  be  so,  whilst  they  will  judge  with  the  utmost 
carelessness,  as  they  daily  do,  of  what  they  are  not  perhaps 
enough  informed  to  be  competent  judges  of,  even  though  they 
considered  it  with  great  attention." — Nature  of  Virtue,  fin. 
These  last  words  seem  in  a  measure  to  anwser  to  the  words 
in  Scavini,  that  an  equivocation  is  permissible,  because 
"  then  we  do  not  deceive  our  neighbour,  but  allow  him  to 
deceive  himself."  In  thus  speaking,  I  have  not  the  slightest 
intention  of  saying  any  thing  disrespectful  to  Bishop 

20  Butler  ;   and  still  less  of  course  to  St.  Alfonso. 

And  a  third  author,  for  whom  I  have  a  great  respect, 
as  different  from  the  above  two  as  they  are  from  each 
other,  bears  testimony  to  the  same  effect  in  his  "  Comment 
on  Scripture,"  Thomas  Scott.  He  maintains  indeed  that 
Ehud  and  Jael  were  divinely  directed  in  what  they  did  ; 
but  they  could  have  no  divine  direction  for  what  was  in 
itself  wrong. 

Thus  on  Judges  iii.  15 — 21 : 
'  And  Ehud  said,  I  have  a  secret  errand  unto  thee, 

3o  0    king  ;    I  have  a   message  from   God  unto   thee,  and 

Ehud  thrust  the  dagger  into  his  belly.'     Ehud,  indeed," 

says  Scott,  "  had  a  secret  errand,  a  message  from  God  unto 

him  ;  but  it  was  of  afar  different  nature  than  Eglon  expected." 

And  again  on  Judges  iv.  18 — 21  : 

"  '  And  Jael  said,  Turn  in,  my  lord,  fear  not.  And  he 
said  to  her,  When  any  man  doth  inquire,  Is  there  any 
man  here  ?  thou  shalt  say,  No.  Then  Jael  took  a  nail, 
and  smote  the  nail  into  his  temple.'  Jael,"  says  Scott,  "  is 
not  said  to  have  promised  Sisera  that  she  would  deny  his 

40  being  there  ;  she  would  give  him  shelter  and  refreshment, 
but  not  utter  a  falsehood  to  oblige  him." 


NOTES 

(Not  reprinted  in  1865.) 

THE  following  are  the  originals  of  some  of  the  passages 
translated  under  this  last  Head  : — 

Gerdil. 

"  Nel  giuramento  si  dee  riguardare  1'intenzione  di  chi  giura, 
e  1'intenzione  di  quello  a  cui  si  presta  il  giuramento.  Chieunque 
giura  si  obbliga  in  virtu  delle  parole  non  second  o  il  senso  ch'  egli 
si  ritiene  in  mente,  ma  nel  senso  secondo  cui  egli  cognosce  che 
sono  intese  da  quello  a  cui  si  fa  il  giuramento.  Allorche  la  mente 
dell'  uno  e  discordante  dalla  mente  dell'  altro,  se  cio  avviene  per 
dolo  e  inganno  del  giurante,  questi  e  obbligato  ad  osservare  il  giura 
mento  secondo  la  sana  mente  di  chi  la  ha  ricevuto ;  ma  quando  la 
discrepanza  nel  senso  proviene  da  mala  intelligenza  senza  dolo  di 
chi  giura,  in  quel  caso  egli  non  e  obbligato  se  non  a  cio  che  avea  in 
mente  di  volersi  obbligare.  Da  cio  segue  che  chiunque  usa  restrizione 
mentale  o  equivocazione  nel  giuramento  per  ingannare  la  parte  cui 
egli  lo  presta,  pecca  gravissimamente,  ed  e  sempre  obbligato  ad 
osservare  il  giuramento  nel  senso  in  cui  egli  sapea  che  le  sue  parole 
erano  prese  dall'  altro,  secondo  la  decisione  di  S.  Augostino  (epist. 
224)  '  Perjuri  sunt  qui  servatis  verbis,  expectationem  eorum  quibus 
juratum  est  deceperunt.'  Chi  giura  esternamente  senza  interna 
intenzione  di  giurare,  commette  gravissimo  peccato,  e  rimane  con 

tutto  cio  nell'  obbligo  di  adimperlo In  somma  tutto  che  e 

contrario  alia  buona  fede,  e  iniquo,  e  facendovi  intervenire  il 
nome  di  Dio  si  aggrava  I'miquita  colla  reita  del  sacrilegio." — Opusc 
Theolog.  Rom.  1851,  p.  28. 

Natalis  Alexander. 

"  Perjurium  est  mendacium  juramento  firmatum.  Illos  vero 
mentiri  compertum  est,  qui  juramenti  verba  proferunt,  et  jurare 
vel  obligare  se  nolunt,  aut  qui  restrictiones  mentales  et  sequivo- 
cationes  jurando  adhibent,  siquidem  verbis  significant  quod  in 
mente  non  habent,  contra  finem  propter  quern  institute  sunt 
voces,  ut  videlicet  sint  signa  conceptuum.  Vel  aliud  volunt  quam 
verba  significent  secundum  se  et  secundum  communem  loquendi 
morem,  et  personarum  ac  negotiorum  circumstantias ;  atque  ita 
verbis  ad  societatem  fovendam  institutis  abutuntur." — Theol.  Lib. 
iv.  c.  iv.  Art.  3.  Reg.  11. 


NOTES.  465 

Contenson. 

"  Atque  ex  his  apparet  quam  damnanda  sit  eorum  semidoctorum 
temeritas,  qui  mendacia  et  aequivocationes  verbis  et  exemplis 
Christi  praecolorant.  Quorum  doctrina,  quse  ars  fallendi  est,  nihil 
pestilentius  esse  potest.  Turn  quia  quod  tibi  non  vis  fieri,  alteri  ne 
feceris  ;  sed  aequivocationum,  ac  restrictionum  mentalium  patroni 
sequo  animo  non  paterentur  se  ab  aliis  illudi  :  ergo  illud  cecumeni- 
cum  naturae  principium  nulli  ignotum,  omnibus  quamlibet  barbaris 
implantatum  violant.  Turn  quia  urget  argumentum  Augustinus, 
etc.  .  .  .  Sane  sicut  aegre  cum  illis  convivimus,  quorum  linguam  non 
intelligimus ;  et  authore  Augustino,  lib.  19,  de  Civit.  '  Libentius 
vivit  homo  cum  cane  suo,  quam  cum  homine  alieno  : '  aegrius  certe 
cum  illis  conversamur  qui  fraudes  artificio  tectas  adhibent,  audientes 
circumveniunt  dolis,  insidiis  eos  petunt,  tempus  observant,  verbaque 
idonea  aucupantur,  quibus  veritas  veluti  quodam  involucre  obtegitur : 
sicut  e  contra  nihil  eorum  convictu  suavius,  qui  ab  omni  simulandi 
studio  longe  absentes,  sincere  animo,  candido  ingenio,  aperta 
voluntate  praediti  sunt,  oderunt  artes,  nudam  veritatem  tarn  amant, 
quam  loquuntur :  quorum  denique  manus  linguae,  lingua  cordi,  cor 
rationi,  ratio  Deo  congruit,  et  tota  vita  unius  faciei  est,  unius  et 
coloris  :  nee  aliud  os  prse  se  fert,  aliud  animus  celat,  et  verborum 
duplicium  velo  obtendit.  Certe  tolerabilior  erat  Babylonica  con- 
fusio,  in  qua  invicem  loquentes  se  minime  intelligebant,  eorum 
convictu,  qui  non  se  intelligunt,  nisi  ut  sese  mutuo  decipiant. 

"  Nee  obest  quod  nomine  aequivocationum,  vel  restrictionum 
mentalium  mendacia  fucent.  Nam  ut  ait  Hilarius  lib.  2.  de  Trinit., 
'  Sensus,  non  sermo,  fit  crimen.  O  ubi  simplicitas  Christiana,  quae 
regula  ilia  Legislatoris  sui  Christi  contenta  est :  Sit  sermo  vester, 
Est  est,  Non  non  ! '  0  ubi  est  mulier  ilia  virilis  totam  Probabili- 
starum  sequivocationibus  veniam  dantium  nationem  confusura!  quae 
referente  Hieronymo  epist.  49,  nee  ad  gravissimos  torturarum  et 
dirae  mortis  cruciatus  vitandos  sequivocationum  usum  septies  icta 
advocavit."— Theol.  vii.  p.  30. 

Concina. 

"  Cardo  disputationis  Augustinianae,  in  duobus  recensitis  libris, 
potissimum  in  eo  vertitur,  ut  rationes  praebeantur  pro  veritatis 
occultatione  in  negotiis  summi  momenti  .  .  .  Augustinus  nulla 
reperire  remedia  potuit  praeter  haec  :  Primum  est  silentium  .  .  . 
Alterum  est  aperta  et  invicta  significatio.  .  .  .  Nullam  aliam  viam 
occultandi  veritatem  agnovit, — non  restrictiones  internas,  non 
materiales  locutiones,  non  verborum  amphibolias,  non  alia  juniorum 
inventa. — Theol.  T.  iii.  p.  278.  Lib.  v.  in  Decal.  Diss.  3.  c.  5.  prop.  2d. 

"...  Haec  autem  omnium  scopulorum,  et  difficultatum  origo : 
quia  cum  non  possit  rectae  disputation!  locus  esse,  nisi  id  pateat 
de  quo  est  disputandum  ;  certas  et  claras  notiones  aequivocationum, 


466  NOTES. 

amphibologiarum,  et  mentalium  restrictionum  praefinire  minime 
possumus,  attentis  recentiorum  distinctiunculis,  effugiis,  et  thecnis, 
quse  rem  hanc  maxime  implicatam  efficiunt.  Has  ambages  ut 
evitarem,  cursum  inceptum  abrumpere,  telamque  redordiri,  atque 
retexere  decrevi :  idque  consilii  cepi,  ut  primum  omnium  de  mendacio 
sermonem  instituam.  Illud  namque  commodi  mihi  peracta  contro- 
versiae  tractatio  attulit,  ut  deprehenderim,  nihil  a  recentioribus 
Theologis  pro  licito  amphibologiarum  usu  efferri  quod  prius  ab 
antiquis  turn  Philosophis,  turn  Patribus  aliquibus  usurpatum  non 
fuerit  in  mendaciorum  patrocinium.  Nee  aliud  discrimen  mihi 
utrorumque  fundamenta  perpendenti  occurrit,  nisi  quod  antiqui 
eas  locutiones  quas  recentiorum  Theologorum  non  pauci  amphi- 
bologicas,  aequivocas,  et  materiales  vocant,  ingenua  sinceritate 
mendacia  appellaverint." — Diss.  iii.  De  Juram.  Dol.  etc. 

Caramuel. 

" .  .  .  .  Est  mihi,"  inquit,  "  innata  aversio  contra  restrictiones 
mentales.  Si  enim  continentur  inter  terminos  pietatis,  et  sinceritatis, 
necessarise  non  sunt.  Nam  omnia  quae  ipsse  praestare  possunt, 
praestabunt  consignificantes  circumstantiae.  Quod  si  tales  dicantur, 
ut  etiam  ibi  admittendae  sint,  ubi  desunt  circumstantise  significantes 
(ignoscant  mihi  earumdem  auctores,  et  propugnatores)  tollunt 
humanam  societatem,  et  securitatem,  et  tamquam  pestiferae 
damnandae  sunt.  Quoniam  semel  admissse  aperiunt  omni  mendacio, 
omni  perjurio  viam.  Et  tota  differentia  in  eo  erit  ut  quod  heri 
vocabatur  mendacium,  naturam,  et  malitiam  non  mutet,  sed 
nomen,  ita  ut  hodie  jubeatur  Restrictio  mentalis  nominari ;  quod 
est  virus  condire  saccharo,  et  scelus  specie  virtutis  colorare. — Apud 
Concinam  Theol.  Diss.  iii.  De  Juram.  Dol.  etc. 

8.  Thomas. 

"  Quando  non  est  eadem  jurantis  intentio,  et  ejus  cui  jurat,  si 
hoc  proveniat  ex  dolo  jurantis,  debet  juramentum  servari  secundum 
sanum  intellectum  ejus,  cui  juramentum  praestatur.  Si  autem 
jurans  dolum  non  adhibeat,  obligatur  secundum  intentionem 
jurantis." — Apud  Nat.  Alex. 

8.  Isidorus. 

"  Quacunque  arte  verborum  quisquis  juret,  Deus  tamen  qui 
conscientiae  testis  est,  ita  hoc  accipit,  sicut  ille,  cui  juratur,  intelligit. 
Dupliciter  autem  reus  fit,  qui  et  Dei  nomen  in  vanum  assumit,  et 
proximum  dolo  capit." — Apud  Nat.  Alex. 

8.  Augustinus. 

"  Illud  sane  rectissime  dici  non  ambigo,  non  secundum  verba 
jurantis,  sed  secundum  expectationem  illius  cui  juratur,  quam 
novit  ille  qui  jurat,  fidem  jurationis  impleri.  Nam  verba  dimcillime 


NOTES.  467 

comprehendunt,  maxime  breviter,  sententiam  cujus  a  jurante  fides 
exigitur.  Unde  perjuri  sunt,  qui  servatis  verbis,  expectationem 
eorum,  quibus  juratum  est,  deceperunt :  et  perjuri  non  sunt,  qui 
etiam  verbis  non  servatis,  illud  quod  ab  eis  cum  jurarent  expectatum 
est,  impleverunt." — Apud  Natal.  Alex. 

Cattaneo. 

11  Sappiasi  dunque,  che  1'  oblige  della  veracita,  cioe,  di  conformare 
le  parole  ai  sentimenti  dell'  animo  nostro,  egli  e  principalmente 
fondato  nella  necessita  del  commercio  umano ;  onde  elle  non 
devono  giammai  ne  possono  lecitamente  opporsi  a  questo  fine,  si 
giusto,  si  necessario,  e  si  importante ;  tolto  il  quale,  diverebbe  il  mondo 
una  Babilonia  di  confusione.  E  cio  accaderebbe  in  gran  parte,  ogni 
qua!  volta  non  si  potessero  custodire,  ne  difendere  i  segreti  d'  alta 
importanza,  e  ne  seguissero  altri  mali  anche  peggiori,  distruttivi  di 
lor  natura  di  questo  stesso  commercio,  per  cui  e  stato  istituito  il 
parlare.  Ognun  vede,  quanto  tornerebbe  in  acconcio  ad  un  manda- 
tario,  se  non  conoscendo  la  persona,  che  deve  uccidere,  io  da  lui  in 
terrogate,  mentre  il  traditore  sta  dubbioso  coll'  archibugio  gia 
alzato,  dovessi,  o  approvar  col  silenzio,  o  titubare,  o  rispondergli, 

'  Si  egli  e  il  tale.' In  somiglianti  casi,  ne  quali  viene  ingiusta- 

mente  assalita  la  vostra  sincerita,  quando  non  sovvenga  altro  mezzo 
piu  pronto,  e  piu  efficace,  e  quando  non  basti  dire  '  no'l  so ; '  piantisi 
pure  in  f accia  a  costoro  un '  No '  franco  e  risoluto,  senza  pensar  ad  altro. 
Imperocche  un  tal  '  no  '  egli  e  conforme  alia  mente  universale  degli 
uomini,  i  quali  sono  arbitri  delle  parole,  e  certamente  non  le  hanno 
obligate  a  danno  della  Republica  umana,  ne  hanno  gia  mai  pattuito 
di  usarle  in  pro  di  furbi,  di  spie,  d'  incendarii,  di  masnadieri,  e  di 
ladri.  Torno  a  dire,  che  quel  No  egli  e  conforme  alia  mente  universale 
degli  uomini,  e  a  questa  mente  deve  esser  unita  e  collegata  anche  la 
vostra.  Chi  non  vede  1'  utile  manifesto,  che  ne  trarrebbero  gli 
assassini  di  strada,  se  i  passeggieri  interrogati  se  abbian  seco  oro, 
o  gemme  dovissero,  o  tergiversare,  o  rispondere,  '  si  che  1'  abbiamo  ; ' 
adunque,  in  tali  congiunture,  quel  '  No,'  che  voi  proferite  (Card. 
Pallav.  lib.  iii.  c.  xi.  n.  23  de  fide,  spe,  &c.)  resta  privo  del  suo 
significato  e  resta  appunto  agguisa  di  una  moneta,  a  cui  per  volere 
del  Principio,  sia  stato  tolto  il  valore,  con  cui  prima  correva ;  onde 
in  niun  modo  voi  siete  reo  di  menzogna."  Lezione  xliv.  Prima 
Parte. 

Bolgeni. 

"  Abbiamo  dunque  bene,  e  con  certezza  piu  che  morale,  provata 
una  eccezione  da  porsi  alia  legge  generate  di  non  mentire,  cioe, 
quando  non  si  possa  osservare  qualche  altro  precetto  piu  importante 
se  non  col  dir  bugia.  Dicono  alcuni  che  nei  casi  della  impossibility 
sopra  esposta  non  e  bugia,  quello  che  si  dice.  Ma  chi  dice  cosi, 
confonde  le  idee,  e  nega  1'essenza  delle  cose.  Che  cosa  e  la  bugia  ? 
Eat  locutio  contra  mentem  :  cosi  la  definiscono  tutti.  Atqui  nei  casi 


468  NOTES. 

della  impossibilita  sovra  esposta  si  parla  contra  mentem :  cio  e 
chiaro  ed  evidente.  Dunque  si  dice  bugia.  Distinguiamo  la  bugia 
dal  peccato.  Nei  casi  detti  si  dice  realmente  bugia ;  ma  questa 
bugia  non  e  peccato  per  ragione  della  impossibilita.  II  dire  che  in 
quei  casi  niuno  ha  diritto  d'interrogare ;  che  le  parole  significano 
secondo  la  convenzione  eomune  fra  gli  uomini ;  e  cose  simili,  che 
da  alcuni  Autori  si  dicono  per  esimere  da  peccato  la  bugia  in  quei 
casi :  questo  e  un  attaccarsi  a  ragioni  frivole,  e  soggette  a  molte 
repliche  quando  si  ha  la  ragione  evidente  della  citata  impossibilita." 
— II  Possesso,  c.  48. 

Author  in  the  Melanges  Theologiques. 

"  II  reste  done  acquis,  et  nous  n'avons  pas  le  moindre  doute 
sur  la  verite  de  cette  conclusion,  que  si  1'intention  de  tromper 
le  prochain,  est  essentielle  au  mensonge,  il  sera  permis  de  dire  ce 
qu'on  sait  etre  faux,  en  certain  cas,  comme  pour  eviter  un  grand 

danger Au  reste,  que  personne  ne  s'effraie,  il  ne  sera  jamais 

permis  de  mentir,  et  en  cela  nous  sommes  d' accord  avec  tous  les 
theologiens :  nous  nous  eloignons  d'eux  en  ce  seul  point  qu'ils 
appellent  mensonge,  ce  qui  ne  Test  pas  pour  nous,  ou  si  Ton  veut,  ils 
regardent  comme  mensonge  formel  et  materiel  ce  qui  pour  nous 
est  seulement  un  mensonge  materiel." — Melanges  Theologiques,  vime 
Serie,  p.  442. 

Milton. 

"  Veracitas  est  Virtus  qua  ei  cui  sequum  est,  et  quibus  de  rebus 
convenit  ad  bonum  proximi,  vera  dicimus.  Psal.  xv.  2.  Prov.  xii. 
21,  17  ;  xx.  6.  Zech.  viii.  16.  Eph.  iv.  25. 

"  Huic  opponitur  dissimulatio  vitiosa.  Nam  omnis  non  impro- 
batur  :  non  enim  semper  vera  palam  expromere  necesse  habemus  : 
ea  tantum  reprehenditur  quse  malitiosa  est. 

"  Secundo  opponitur  mendacium.  Psal.  v.  7.  xii.  2,  3.  Prov. 
xiii.  5 ;  xix.  5.  Joan  viii.  44.  Apoc.  xxii.  15.  Mendacio  itaque 
ne  Dei  quidem  causa  est  utendum.  Job  xiii.  7. 

"  Mendacium  vulgo  definitur,  quo  falsum  animo  fallendi  verbis 
factisve  significatur.  Sed  quoniam  saepe  usu  venit,  ut  non  solum 
vera  dissimulare  aut  reticere,  sed  etiam  fallendi  animo  falsa  dicere, 
utile  ac  salutare  proximo  sit,  danda  opera  est,  ut  mendacium  quid 
sit  melius  definiamus.  eque  enim  video  cur  non  idem  de  mendacio, 
quod  de  homicidio  aliisque  rebus,  de  quibus  infra  dicetur,  nunc  dici 
possit,  quae  non  tarn  facto,  quam  objecto  et  fine  agendi  ponderanda 
sunt.  Esse  enim  quos  jure  optimo  fallendos  putemus,  quis  sanus 
negaverit  ?  quid  enim  pueros,  quid  furentes,  quid  segrotos,  quid 
ebrios,  quid  hostes,  quid  fallentes,  quid  latrones  ?  (certe  juxta 
illud  tritum,  Cui  nullum  est  jus,  ei  nulla  fit  injuria  :)  an  illos  ne 
fallamus  religio  erit  ?  per  hanc  tamen  definitionem  ne  illos  quidem 
dictis  aut  factis  fallere  licebit.  Certe  si  gladium,  aliamve  rem 
quam  apud  me  sanus  deposuerit,  eidem  furenti  non  reddiderim, 


NOTES.  469 

cur  veritatem  non  depositam,  ei  ad  quein  veritas  minime  pertineat, 
male  usuro  expromam  ?  Enimvero  si  quidquid  cuicunque  in- 
terroganti  respondetur  fallendi  animo,  mendacium  est  censendum, 
prof  ecto  sanctis  viris  et  prophetis  nihil  f  amiliarius  erat  quam  mentiri. 

"  Quid  si  igitur  mendacium  hoc  modo  definiamus  ?  Mendacium 
est  cum  quis  dolo  malo  aut  veritatem  depravat,  aut  falsum  dicit  ei, 
quicunque  is  sit,  cui  dicere  veritatem  ex  ojficio  debuerat.  Sic  diabolus 
serpens  primus  erat  mendax,  Gen.  iii.  4.  et  Cain,  cap.  iv.  9.  et  Sara, 
cap.  xviii.  15.  angelis  enim  merito  offensis  non  satisfecit  ingenua 
confessione :  et  Abrahamus,  cap.  xii.  13.  et  cap.  xx.  illud  enim  de 
Sara  tanquam  sorore  figmentum,  ut  ipse  didicisse  poterat  in  ^Egypto, 
quamvis  incolumitatem  vitas  sibi  proposuerat  solam,  homines  tamen 
inscientes  in  errorem  et  alieni  cupiditatem  induxit :  et  Davides 
fugiens,  1  Sam.  xxi.  3.  debebat  enim  non  celasse  Abimelecum  quo 
loco  res  sure  apud  regem  essent,  neque  tantum  periculum  hospiti 
creare  :  sic  Ananias  et  Sapphira,  Act.  v.,  mentiti  sunt. 

"  Ex  hac  definitione,  lmo,  haud  secus  at^ue  ex  altera,  patet, 
parabolas,  hyperbolas,  apologos,  ironias  mendacia  non  esse  :  hsec 
enim  omnia  non  fallendi  sed  erudiendi  studio  adhibentur.  1  Regum 
xviii.  27.  et  xxii.  15.  2do,  si  fallendi  vocem  significatione  debita 
sumamus,  neminem  quidem  fallere  poterimus,  quin  eum  eadem 
opera  laedamus.  Quern  igitur  nullo  modo  laedimus,  sed  vel  juvamus, 
vel  ab  injuria  aut  inferenda  aut  patienda  prohibemus,  eum  certe 
ne  f  also  quidem  millies  dicto  revera  f  allimus,  sed  vero  potius  beneficio 
necopinantem  afficimus.  3tio,  dolos  et  strategemata  in  bello,  modo 
absit  perfidia  aut  perjurium,  non  esse  mendacia  omnes  concedunt : 
quae  concessio  alteram  definitionem  plane  destruit.  Vix  enim 
ullee  insidiae  aut  doli  in  bello  strui  possunt,  quin  palam  idque  summo 
fallendi  studio  dicantur  multa  quae  falsissima  sunt :  unde  per  illam 
definitionem  mendacio  absolvd  nequeunt.  Hanc  igitur  potius  ob 
causam  licere  strategemata  dicendum  erit,  etiam  cum  mendacio 
conjuncta,  eo  quod,  si  quis  est  cui  verum  dicere  officii  nostri  non  sit, 
nihil  certe  interest  an  illi,  quoties  expedit,  etiam  falsum  dicamus  : 
nee  video  cur  hoc  in  bello  magis  quam  in  pace  liceat,  praasertim 
quoties  injuriam  aut  periculum  a  nobismetipsis  aut  a  proximo 
salutari  et  probo  quodam  mendacio  depellere  licet. 

"  Quaa  igitur  testimonia  scriptures  contra  mendacium  proferuntur, 
de  eo  intelligenda  sunt  mendacio,  quod  aut  Dei  gloriam  aut  nostrum 
proximive  bonum  imminuere  videatur.  Hujusmodi  sunt,  prseter  ea 
quae  supra  citavimus,  Lev.  xix.  Ps.  ci.  7.  Prov.  vi.  16,  17.  Jer. 
ix.  5.  His  atque  aliis  hujusmodi  locis  veritatem  dicere  jubemur  :  at 
cui  ?  non  hosti,  non  furioso,  non  violento,  non  sicario  ;  sed  proximo, 
quicum  scilicet  pax  et  justa  societas  nobis  intercedit.  Jam  vero 
si  veritatem  soli  proximo  dicere  jubemur,  prof  ecto  iis  qui  nomen 
proximi  non  merentur,  ne  falsum  quidem,  quoties  opus  est,  dicere 
vetamur.  Qui  aliter  sentit,  ex  eo  libens  qusererem,  quonam  decalogi 
prsecepto  prohibeatur  mendacium  ?  respondebit  certissime,  nono. 


470  NOTES. 

Age,  reoitefc  modo,  et  meoum  sentiet :  quidquid  enim  hie  prohibetur, 
id  proximum  laedere  ostenditur;  siquod  igitur  mendacium  non 
Isedit  proximum,  sub  hoc  certe  mandate  nequaquam  prohibetur. 

"  Hinc  tot  sanctissimos  viros  theologorum  fere  judicio  mendacii 
reos  merito  absolvemus :  Abrahamum,  Gen.  xxii.  5.  cum  dixit 
servis  suis  se  reversurum  cum  filio ;  fallendi  tamen  animo,  nequid 
illi  suspicarentur ;  cum  ipse  persuasus  esset  mactatum  ibi  filium 
se  relicturum;  nam  nisi  ita  sibi  persuasisset,  quid  hoc  magnopere 
tentationis  erat  ?  sed  intellexit  vir  sapiens  nihil  interesse  servorum 
hoc  ut  scirent,  sibi  expedire  in  prsesentia  ne  scirent.  Rebeccam 
et  Jacobum,  Gen.  xxvii.,  prudenti  enim  astutia  et  cautione  aditum 
sibi  muniebant  ad  jus  illud  hsereditatis  quod  alter  vili  vendiderat ; 
ad  jus,  inquam,  et  oraculo  et  redemptione  jam  suum.  At  patri 
imposuit :  immo  potius  errori  patris,  qui  amore  prsepostero  in 
Esauum  ferebatur,  tempestive  occurrit.  Josephum,  Gen.  xlii.  7,  etc. 
multorum  sane  mendaciorum  hominem,  si  vulgari  ilia  definitione 
stetur :  quam  multa  enim  dixit  non  vera,  eo  animo  ut  fratres 
f alleret  ?  dolo  tamen  fratribus  non  malo,  sed  utilissimo.  Obstetrices 
Hebraeas,  Exod.  i.  19,  etc.,  comprobante  etiam  Deo ;  fefellerant 
enim  Pharaonem,  non  laeserant  tamen,  sed  beneficio  potius  affecerant, 
dum  male  faciendi  facultatem  ademerunt.  Mosen,  Exod.  iii.,  etiam 
a  Deo  jussum  iter  tridui  a  Pharaone  petere,  quasi  ad  rem  divinam 
f aciendam  in  deserto  j  eo  licet  consilio  petentem  ut  Pharaoni  verba 
daret ;  non  causam  enim  pro  causa,  vel  fictam  saltern  pro  vera 
profectionis  afferebat.  Universum  populum  Israeliticum,  Exod, 
xi.  et  xii.,  ab  eodem  Deo  jussum  aurum,  vasa,  vestemque  pretiosam 
ab  JSgyptiis  mutuam  petere ;  et  pollicitum  sine  dubio  reddere : 
fallendi  tamen  animo  ;  quidni  enim  et  Dei  hostes  et  hospitii  violatores 
et  spoliatores  jamdiu  suos  ?  Raabbam,  Jos.  ii.  4,  j.  splendide 
mentitam,  nee  sine  fide ;  f  allebat  enim  quos  Deus  f  alii  voluit, 
populares  licet  suos,  et  inagistratus :  quos  voluit  ille  salvos  con- 
servabat ;  civile  officium  religioni  recte  posthabuit.  Ehudem,  qui 
duplici  mendacio  Eglonem  fefellit,  Judic.  iii.  19,  20.  nee  injuria 
tamen,  quippe  hostem ;  idque  Dei  non  injussu.  Jaelem,  quaa 
confugientem  ad  se  Siseram  blanditiis  perdidit,  Judic.  iv.  18,  19. 
hostem  licet  Dei  magis  quam  suum :  quamquam  id  non  mendacio, 
sed  pia  fraude  factum  vult  Junius,  quasi  quidquam  interesset. 
Jonathanem,  dum  rogatus  ab  amico  Davide  causam  ejus  absentise 
fictam  refert  patri,  1  Sam.  xx.  6,  28.  malebat  enim  innocentis  saluti 
quam  patris  crudelitati  omciosum  se  esse  ;  et  majoris  erat  momenti 
ad  charitatem  ut  innocentis  amici  consuleretur  vitae,  interposito  Hcet 
mendacio,  quam  ut  patri  ad  maleficium  exequendum  veritatis 
inutili  conf  essione  mos  gereretur.  Hos  atque  alios  tot  viros  sanctissi 
mos  vulgari  ilia  definitione  mendacii  condemnatos,  vetuli  ex  limbo 
quodam  patrum  disquisitio  hsec  veritatis  accuratior  educit."] 

The  matter  between  [  ],  pp.  455-470,  was  not  reprinted  in  1865. 


(SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER.)  471 


(II. 
LIST  OF  THE  AUTHOR'S  PUBLICATIONS.) 

The  request  has  been  made  to  me  from  various  quarters 
for  a  list  of  my  writings.  This  I  now  give,  [omitting  several 
pamphlets  and  articles  in  Reviews  &c.  of  minor  impor 
tance.]  (as  follows  : — ) 

1.  Life  and  Writings  of  Cicero Griffin. 

2.  Life  of  Apollonius  Tyanaeus  and  Essay  on  Scrip 

ture  Miracles Griffin. 

[3.  Article  in  London  Review,  on  Greek  Tragedy   .    Out  of  print.] 

(3.  Articles  in  the  Christian  Observer  (excluding 
the  footnotes)  1821,  p.  293,  Mathematics, 
and  1822,  p.  623,  Religious  Students; 
in  British  Review,  May  1824,  Duncan's 
Travels  ;  in  Theological  Review,  June  1825, 
Cooper's  Crisis  and  Robinson's  Acts ;  and 
hi  London  Review,  1828,  Greek  Tragedy  .  Out  of  print.) 

4.  History  of  the  Arians Lumley. 

5 — 10.  Parochial  Sermons  ....  (Vols.  1  and  4)  Out  of  print. 

11.  Plain  Sermons  (vol.  5th) Rivingtons. 

12.  (In   the   British   Magazine,    1833-1836,)   Home 

Thoughts  Abroad  [in  the  British  Magazine 

1832—1826]  (,  and  1834,  On  Convocation)  .    Out  of  print. 

13.  Tracts  for  the  Times  (smaller  Tracts),  Nos.  1, 

2.  6,  7,  8.  10,  11.  19,  20,  21.   34.  38.   41. 

45.  47 Rivingtons. 

Tracts  for  the  Times  (larger  Tracts),  Nos.  71. 

73.  75.  79.  82,  83.  85.  88.  90 Rivingtons. 

14.  Pamphlets(,   1830—1841.  1.  Suggestions  in  be 

half  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society). 
1(2).  Suffragan  Bishops.  2(3).  Letter  to 
Faussett.  3(4).  Letters  by  Catholicus. 
4(5).  Letter  to  Jelf .  5(6).  Letter  to  Bishop 

of  Oxford Out  of  print. 

(Except  Suffragan  Bishops     Rivingtons.) 


472  LIST  OF  WRITINGS. 

15.  Articles    in    British     Critic,    1836—1842.       1. 

Apostolical  Tradition.  2.  Dr.  Wiseman's 
Lectures.  3.  De  la  Mennais.  4.  Geraldine. 
5.  Memorials  of  Oxford.  6.  Exeter  Hall. 
7.  Palmer  on  the  Church  of  Christ.  8.  St. 
Ignatius  of  Antioch.  9.  State  of  Religious 
Parties.  10.  American  Church.  11.  Ca 
tholicity  of  the  English  Church.  12.  Coun 
tess  of  Huntingdon.  13.  Antichrist.  14. 
Milman's  Christianity.  15.  Bowden's  Hil- 
debrand.  16.  Private  Judgment.  17.  Da- 
vison Out  of  print. 

16.  Church  of  the  Fathers Duffy. 

17.  Prophetical  Office  of  the  Church Out  of  print. 

18.  Doctrine  of  Justification Rivingtons. 

19.  University  Sermons Rivingtons. 

20.  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Day    .  [Out  of  print.]  (Rivingtons.) 

21.  Annotated  Translation  of  St.  Athanasius       .      Parker,  Oxford. 

22.  Essay  on  Ecclesiastical  Miracles Rivingtons. 

23.  Essay  on  Development  of  Doctrine      ....  Toovey. 

24.  Dissertatiunculae  Critico-Theologicee    ....     Out  of  print. 

25.  Loss  and  Gain Burns  and  Lambert, 

26.  Sermons  to  Mixed  Congregations Duffy. 

27.  Anglican  Difficulties Duffy. 

28.  Catholicism  in  England Duffy. 

29.  Lectures  on  the  Turks Duffy. 

30.  University  Education Longman. 

31.  Office  and  Work  of  Universities      .      .      .      .      .         Longman. 

32.  Lectures  on  University  Subjects Longman. 

33.  Verses  on  Religious  Subjects '  .    Out  of  print. 

(Vide  also  d  in  Lyra  Apostolica.) 

34.  Callista Burns  and  Lambert. 

35.  Occasional  Sermons Burns  and  Lambert. 

36.  (In  the)  Rambler,  1859—1860.    Ancient  Saints, 

1 — 5 Burns  and  Lambert. 

37.  (In  the)  Atlantis,  1.  Benedictine  Order.    2.  Bene 

dictine  Centuries.     3.  St.  Cyril's  Formula         Longman. 

38.  Apologia  pro  Vita  sua Longman. 


(SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER.)  473 

[POSTSCRIPT™. 

JUNE  4,  1864. 

WHILE  I  was  engaged  with  these  concluding  pages,  I 
received  another  of  those  special  encouragements,  which 
from  several  quarters  have  been  bestowed  upon  me,  since 
my  controversy  began.  It  was  the  extraordinary  honour 
done  me  of  an  Address  from  the  Clergy  of  this  large  Diocese, 
who  had  been  assembled  for  the  Synod. 

It  was  followed  two  days  afterwards  by  a  most  gracious 
testimonial  from  my  Bishop,  Dr.  Ullathorne,  in  the  shape 
of  a  Letter  which  he  wrote  to  me,  and  also  inserted  in  the 
Birmingham  Papers.  With  his  leave  I  transfer  it  to  my 
own  Volume,  as  a  very  precious  document,  completing 
and  recompensing,  in  a  way  most  grateful  to  my  feelings, 
the  anxious  work  which  has  occupied  me  so  fully  for  nearly 
ten  weeks.] 

an. 

LETTER  OF  APPROBATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT  FROM  THE 
BISHOP  OF  THE  DIOCESE  OF  BIRMINGHAM,  DR.  ULLA 
THORNE.) 

"  Bishop's  House,  June  2, 1864. 
"  My  dear  Dr.  Newman, — 

"  It  was  with  warm  gratification  that,  after  the 
close  of  the  Synod  yesterday,  I  listened  to  the  Address 
presented  to  you  by  the  clergy  of  the  diocese,  and  to  your 
impressive  reply.  But  I  should  have  been  little  satisfied 
with  the  part  of  the  silent  listener,  except  on  the  under 
standing  with  myself  that  I  also  might  afterwards  express 
to  you  my  own  sentiments  in  my  own  way. 

"  We  have  now  been  personally  acquainted,  and  much 
more  than  acquainted,  for  nineteen  years,  during  more 
than  sixteen  of  which  we  have  stood  in  special  relation  of 
duty  towards  each  other.  This  has  been  one  of  the  singular 


474  POSTSCRIPTUM. 

blessings  which  God  has  given  me  amongst  the  cares  of  the 
Episcopal  office.  What  my  feelings  of  respect,  of  confi 
dence,  and  of  affection  have  been  towards  you,  you  know 
well,  nor  should  I  think  of  expressing  them  in  words.  But 
there  is  one  thing  that  has  struck  me  in  this  day  of  explana 
tions,  which  you  could  not,  and  would  not,  be  disposed  to 
do,  and  which  no  one  could  do  so  properly  or  so  authen 
tically  as  I  could,  and  which  it  seems  to  me  is  not  altogether 
uncalled  for,  if  every  kind  of  erroneous  impression  that 
some  persons  have  entertained  with  no  better  evidence 
than  conjecture  is  to  be  removed. 

"It  is  difficult  to  comprehend  how,  in  the  face  of  facts, 
the  notion  should  ever  have  arisen  that,  during  your 
Catholic  life,  you  have  been  more  occupied  with  your  own 
thoughts  than  with  the  service  of  religion  and  the  work  of 
the  Church.  If  we  take  no  other  work  into  consideration 
beyond  the  written  productions  which  your  Catholic  pen 
has  given  to  the  world,  they  are  enough  for  the  life's  labour 
of  another.  There  are  the  Lectures  on  Anglican  Difficulties, 
the  Lectures  on  Catholicism  in  England,  the  great  work  on 
the  Scope  and  End  of  University  Education,  that  on  the 
Office  and  Work  of  Universities,  the  Lectures  and  Essays 
on  University  Subjects,  and  the  two  Volumes  of  Sermons  ; 
not  to  speak  of  your  contributions  to  the  Atlantis,  which 
you  founded,  and  to  other  periodicals  ;  then  there  are  those 
beautiful  offerings  to  Catholic  literature,  the  Lectures  on 
the  Turks,  Loss  and  Gain,  and  Callista,  and  though  last, 
not  least,  the  Apologia,  which  is  destined  to  put  many  idle 
rumours  to  rest,  and  many  unprofitable  surmises  ;  and 
yet  all  these  productions  represent  but  a  portion  of  your 
labour,  and  that  in  the  second  half  of  your  period  of 
public  life. 

"  These  works  have  been  written  in  the  midst  of  labour 
and  cares  of  another  kind,  and  of  which  the  world  knows 
very  little.  I  will  specify  four  of  these  undertakings,  each 
of  a  distinct  character,  and  any  one  of  which  would  have 
made  a  reputation  for  untiring  energy  in  the  practical 
order. 

"  The  first  of  these  undertakings  was  the  establishment 
of  the  congregation  of  the  Oratory  of  St.  Philip  Neri — that 
great  ornament  and  accession  to  the  force  of  English 


(SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER.)  475 

Catholicity.      Both    the    London    and    the    Birmingham 
Oratory  must  look  to  you  as  their  founder  and  as  the 
originator  of  their  characteristic  excellences  ;    whilst  that 
<firmmg          has  never  known  anJ  other  presidency 
11  ^S°Ter  Was  this  work  fairly  on  foot  than  you  were 
called  by  the  highest  authority  to  commence  another,  and 
one  of  yet  greater  magnitude  and  difficulty,  the  founding 
of  a  University  in  Ireland.    After  the  Universities  had  been 
lost  to  the  Catholics  of  these  kingdoms  for  three  centuries, 
every  thing  had  to  be  begun  from  the  beginning  :   the  idea 
of  such  an  institution  to  be  inculcated,  the  plan  to  be 
formed  that  would  work,  the  resources  to  be  gathered 
and  the  staff  of  superiors  and  professors  to  be  brought 
together.    Your  name  was  then  the  chief  point  of  attraction 
which  brought  these  elements  together.     You  alone  know 
what  difficulties  you  had  to  conciliate  and  what  to  sur 
mount,  before  the  work  reached  that  state  of  consistency 
and  promise,  which  enabled  you  to  return  to  those  responsi 
bilities  in   England  which  you  had  never  laid  aside  or 
suspended.     And  here,  excuse  me  if  I  give  expression  to 
a  iancy  which  passed  through  my  mind. 

*u"  LS?  15Jely  readinS  a  P°em>  not  long  published,  from 
the  MbS.  De  Rerum  Natura,  by  Neckham,  the  foster- 
brother  of  Richard  the  Lion-hearted.  He  quotes  an  old 
prophecy,  attributed  to  Merlin,  and  with  a  sort  of  wonder 
as  if  recollecting  that  England  owed  so  much  of  its  literary 
learning  to  that  country  ;  and  the  prophecy  says  that 
alter  long  years  Oxford  will  pass  into  Ireland—'  Vada 
bourn  suo  tempore  transibunt  in  Hiberniam.'  When 
I  read  this,  I  could  not  but  indulge  the  pleasant  fancy 
that  in  the  days  when  the  Dublin  University  shall  arise 
in  material  splendour,  an  allusion  to  this  prophecy  might 
form  a  poetic  element  in  the  inscription  on  the  pedestal 
of  the  statue  which  commemorates  its  first  Rector. 

The  original  plan  of  an  oratory  did  not  contemplate 
any  parochial  work,  but  you  could  not  contemplate  so 
many  souls  in  want  of  pastors  without  being  prompt  and 
ready  at  the  beck  of  authority  to  strain  all  your  efforts  in 
coming  to  their  help.  And  this  brings  me  to  the  third  and 
the  most  continuous  of  those  labours  to  which  I  have 
alluded.  The  mission  in  Alcester  Street,  its  church  and 


476  POSTSORIPTUM. 

schools,  were  the  first  work  of  the  Birmingham  Oratory. 
After  several  years  of  close  and  hard  work,  and  a  con 
siderable  call  upon  the  private  resources  of  the  Fathers 
who  had  established  this  congregation,  it  was  delivered 
over  to  other  hands,  and  the  Fathers  removed  to  the 
district  of  Edgbaston,  where  up  to  that  time  nothing 
Catholic  had  appeared.  Then  arose  under  your  direction 
the  large  convent  of  the  Oratory,  the  church  expanded  by 
degrees  into  its  present  capaciousness,  a  numerous  con 
gregation  has  gathered  and  grown  in  it  ;  poor  schools  and 
other  pious  institutions  have  grown  up  in  connexion  with 
it,  and,  moreover,  equally  at  your  expense  and  that  of  your 
brethren,  and,  as  I  have  reason  to  know,  at  much  incon 
venience,  the  Oratory  has  relieved  the  other  clergy  of 
Birmingham  all  this  while  by  constantly  doing  the  duty  in 
the  poor-house  and  gaol  of  Birmingham. 

"  More  recently  still,  the  mission  and  the  poor  school  at 
Smethwick  owe  their  existence  to  the  Oratory.  And  all 
this  while  the  founder  and  father  of  these  religious  works 
has  added  to  his  other  solicitudes  the  toil  of  frequent 
preaching,  of  attendance  in  the  confessional,  and  other 
parochial  duties. 

"I  have  read  on  this  day  of  its  publication  the  seventh 
part  of  the  Apologia,  and  the  touching  allusion  in  it  to  the 
devotedness  of  the  Catholic  clergy  to  the  poor  in  seasons 
of  pestilence  reminds  me  that  when  the  cholera  raged  so 
dreadfully  at  Bilston,  and  the  two  priests  of  the  town  were 
no  longer  equal  to  the  number  of  cases  to  which  they  were 
hurried  day  and  night,  I  asked  you  to  lend  me  two  fathers 
to  supply  the  place  of  other  priests  whom  I  wished  to  send 
as  a  further  aid.  But  you  and  Father  St.  John  preferred 
to  take  the  place  of  danger  which  I  had  destined  for  others, 
and  remained  at  Bilston  till  the  worst  was  over. 

"  The  fourth  work  which  I  would  notice  is  one  more 
widely  known.  I  refer  to  the  school  for  the  education  of 
the  higher  classes,  which  at  the  solicitation  of  many  friends 
you  have  founded  and  attached  to  the  Oratory.  Surely 
after  reading  this  bare  enumeration  of  work  done,  no  man 
will  venture  to  say  that  Dr.  Newman  is  leading  a  com 
paratively  inactive  life  in  the  service  of  the  Church. 

"  To  spare,  my  dear  Dr.  Newman,  any  further  pressure 


(SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER.)  477 

on  those  feelings  with  which  I  have  already  taken  so  large 
a  liberty,  I  will  only  add  one  word  more  for  my  own  satis 
faction.  During  our  long  intercourse  there  is  only  one 
subject  on  which,  after  the  first  experience,  I  have  measured 
my  words  with  some  caution,  and  that  has  been  where 
questions  bearing  on  ecclesiastical  duty  have  arisen. 
I  found  some  little  caution  necessary,  because  you  were 
always  so  prompt  and  ready  to  go  even  beyond  the  slightest 
intimation  of  my  wish  or  desires. 

"  That  God  may  bless  you  with  health,  life,  and  all  the 
spiritual  good  which  you  desire,  you  and  your  brethren  of 
the  Oratory,  is  the  earnest  prayer  now  and  often  of, 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Newman, 

"  Your  affectionate  friend  and  faithful  servant 
in  Christ, 

"  +  W.  B.  ULLATHORNE." 


[THE  END.] 


APPENDIX  II. 

(1913.) 
MATTER  PECULIAR  TO  THE  1865  EDITION. 


[Reduced  Facsimile  of  the  original  Title-page.] 

HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS 
OPINIONS. 


Commit  thy  way  to  the  Lord,  and  trust  in  Him,  and  He  will  do  it. 
And  He  will  bring  forth  thy  justice  as  the  light,  and  thy  judg 
ment  as  the  noon-day." 


BY 

JOHN  HENEY  NEWMAN,  D.D. 

OF   THE    ORATORY   OF   ST.    PHILIP   NERI. 


LONDON: 

LONGMAN,  GREEN,  LONGMAN,  ROBERTS,  AND  GREEN. 

1865. 

APOLOGIA  R 


PREFACE  TO  THE  1865  EDITION 

THE  following  History  of  my  Religious  Opinions,  now 
that  it  is  detached  from  the  context  in  which  it  originally 
stood,  requires  some  preliminary  explanation  ;  and  that, 
not  only  in  order  to  introduce  it  generally  to  the  reader, 
but  specially  to  make  him  understand,  how  I  came  to  write 
a  whole  book  about  myself,  and  about  my  most  private 
thoughts  and  feelings.  Did  I  consult  indeed  my  own 
impulses,  I  should  do  my  best  simply  to  wipe  out  of  my 
Volume,  and  consign  to  oblivion,  every  trace  of  the  circum 
stances  to  which  it  is  to  be  ascribed  ;  but  its  original  title  of 
"  Apologia  "  is  too  exactly  borne  out  by  its  matter  and 
structure,  and  these  again  are  too  suggestive  of  correlative 
circumstances,  and  those  circumstances  are  of  too  grave 
a  character,  to  allow  of  my  indulging  so  natural  a  wish. 
And  therefore,  though  in  this  new  Edition  I  have  managed 
to  omit  nearly  a  hundred  pages  of  my  original  Volume, 
which  I  could  safely  consider  to  be  of  merely  ephemeral 
importance,  I  am  even  for  that  very  reason  obliged,  by  way 
of  making  up  for  their  absence,  to  prefix  to  my  Narrative 
some  account  of  the  provocation  out  of  which  it  arose. 

It  is  now  more  than  twenty  years  that  a  vague  impression 
to  my  disadvantage  has  rested  on  the  popular  mind,  as  if 
my  conduct  towards  the  Anglican  Church,  while  I  was 
a  member  of  it,  was  inconsistent  with  Christian  simplicity 
and  uprightness.  An  impression  of  this  kind  was  almost 
unavoidable  under  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  when 
a  man,  who  had  written  strongly  against  a  cause,  and  had 
collected  a  party  round  him  by  virtue  of  such  writings, 
gradually  faltered  in  his  opposition  to  it,  unsaid  his  words, 
threw  his  own  friends  into  perplexity  and  their  proceedings 
into  confusion,  and  ended  by  passing  over  to  the  side  of 
those  whom  he  had  so  vigorously  denounced.  Sensitive 
then  as  I  have  ever  been  of  the  imputations  which  have 
been  so  freely  cast  upon  me,  I  have  never  felt  much 


484  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

impatience  under  them,  as  considering  them  to  be  a  portion 
of  the  penalty  which  I  naturally  and  justly  incurred  by  my 
change  of  religion,  even  though  they  were  to  continue  as 
long  as  I  lived.  I  left  their  removal  to  a  future  day,  when 
personal  feelings  would  have  died  out,  and  documents 
would  see  the  light,  which  were  as  yet  buried  in  closets  or 
scattered  through  the  country. 

This  was  my  state  of  mind,  as  it  had  been  for  many 
years,  when,  in  the  beginning  of  1864,  I  unexpectedly 
found  myself  publicly  put  upon  my  defence,  and  furnished 
with  an  opportunity  of  pleading  my  cause  before  the  world, 
and,  as  it  so  happened,  with  a  fair  prospect  of  an  impartial 
hearing.  Taken  indeed  by  surprise,  as  I  was,  I  had  much 
reason  to  be  anxious  how  I  should  be  able  to  acquit  myself 
in  so  serious  a  matter  ;  however,  I  had  long  had  a  tacit 
understanding  with  myself,  that,  in  the  improbable  event 
of  a  challenge  being  formally  made  to  me,  by  a  person  of 
name,  it  would  be  my  duty  to  meet  it.  That  opportunity 
had  now  occurred  ;  it  never  might  occur  again  ;  not  to 
avail  myself  of  it  at  once  would  be  virtually  to  give  up  my 
cause  ;  ^accordingly,  I  took  advantage  of  it,  and,  as  it  has 
turned  out,  the  circumstance  that  no  time  was  allowed 
me  for  any  studied  statements  has  compensated,  in  the 
equitable  judgment  of  the  public,  for  such  imperfections  in 
composition  as  my  want  of  leisure  involved. 

It  was  in  the  number  for  January  1864,  of  a  magazine  of 
wide  circulation,  and  in  an  Article  upon  Queen  Elizabeth, 
that  a  popular  writer  took  occasion  formally  to  accuse  me 
by  name  of  thinking  so  lightly  of  the  virtue  of  Veracity, 
as  in  set  terms  to  have  countenanced  and  defended  that 
neglect  of  it  which  he  at  the  same  time  imputed  to  the 
Catholic  Priesthood.  His  words  were  these  : — 

"  Truth,  for  its  own  sake,  had  never  been  a  virtue  with 
the  Roman  clergy.  Father  Newman  informs  us  that  it 
need  not,  and  on  the  whole  ought  not  to  be  ;  that  cunning 
is  the  weapon  which  heaven  has  given  to  the  Saints  where 
with  to  withstand  the  brute  male  force  of  the  wicked 
world  which  marries  and  is  given  in  marriage.  Whether 
his  notion  be  doctrinally  correct  or  not,  it  is  at  least  his 
torically  so." 


PREFACE  TO  THE  1865  EDITION.  485 

These  assertions,  going  far  beyond  the  popular  prejudice 
entertained  against  me,  had  no  foundation  whatever  in  fact. 
I  never  had  said,  I  never  had  dreamed  of  saying,  that  truth 
for  its  own  sake,  need  not,  and  on  the  whole  ought  not  to 
be,  a  virtue  with  the  Roman  Clergy  ;  or  that  cunning  is 
the  weapon  which  heaven  has  given  to  the  Saints  wherewith 
to  withstand  the  wicked  world.  To  what  work  of  mine 
then  could  the  writer  be  referring  ?  In  a  correspondence 
which  ensued  upon  the  subject  between  him  and  myself,  he 
rested  his  charge  against  me  on  a  Sermon  of  mine,  preached, 
before  I  was  a  Catholic,  in  the  pulpit  of  my  Church  at 
Oxford  ;  and  he  gave  me  to  understand,  that,  after  having 
done  as  much  as  this,  he  was  not  bound,  over  and  above 
such  a  general  reference  to  my  Sermon,  to  specify  the 
passages  of  it,  in  which  the  doctrine,  which  he  imputed 
to  me,  was  contained.  On  my  part  I  considered  this  not 
enough  ;  and  I  demanded  of  him  to  bring  out  his  proof  of 
his  accusation  in  form  and  in  detail,  or  to  confess  he  was 
unable  to  do  so.  But  he  persevered  in  his  refusal  to  cite 
any  distinct  passages  from  any  writing  of  mine  ;  and, 
though  he  consented  to  withdraw  his  charge,  he  would  not 
do  so  on  the  issue  of  its  truth  or  falsehood,  but  simply  on 
the  ground  that  I  assured  him  that  I  had  had  no  intention 
of  incurring  it.  This  did  not  satisfy  my  sense  of  justice. 
Formally  to  charge  me  with  committing  a  fault  is  one 
thing  ;  to  allow  that  I  did  not  intend  to  commit  it,  is 
another  ;  it  is  no  satisfaction  to  me,  if  a  man  accuses  me  of 
this  offence,  for  him  to  profess  that  he  does  not  accuse  me 
of  that ;  but  he  thought  differently.  Not  being  able  then 
to  gain  redress  in  the  quarter,  where  I  had  a  right  to  ask  it, 
I  appealed  to  the  public.  I  published  the  correspondence 
in  the  shape  of  a  Pamphlet,  with  some  remarks  of  my  own 
at  the  end,  on  the  course  which  that  correspondence  had 
taken. 

This  Pamphlet,  which  appeared  in  the  first  weeks  of 
February,  received  a  reply  from  my  accuser  towards  the 
end  of  March,  in  another  Pamphlet  of  48  pages,  entitled, 
"  What  then  does  Dr.  Newman  mean  ?  "  in  which  he 
professed  to  do  that  which  I  had  called  upon  him  to  do  ; 
that  is,  he  brought  together  a  number  of  extracts  from 
various  works  of  mine,  Catholic  and  Anglican,  with  the 


486  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

object  of  showing  that,  if  I  was  to  be  acquitted  of  the  crime 
of  teaching  and  practising  deceit  and  dishonesty,  according 
to  his  first  supposition,  it  was  at  the  price  of  my  being 
considered  no  longer  responsible  for  my  actions  ;  for,  as  he 
expressed  it,  "I  had  a  human  reason  once,  no  doubt,  but 
I  had  gambled  it  away,"  and  I  had  "  worked  my  mind  into 
that  morbid  state,  in  which  nonsense  was  the  only  food 
for  which  it  hungered  ;  "  and  that  it  could  not  be  called 
"  a  hasty  or  farfetched  or  unfounded  mistake,  when  he 
concluded  that  I  did  not  care  for  truth  for  its  own  sake,  or 
teach  my  disciples  to  regard  it  as  a  virtue  ;  "  and,  though 
"  too  many  prefer  the  charge  of  insincerity  to  that  of 
insipience,  Dr.  Newman  seemed  not  to  be  of  that  number." 

He  ended  his  Pamphlet  by  returning  to  his  original 
imputation  against  me,  which  he  had  professed  to  abandon. 
Alluding  by  anticipation  to  my  probable  answer  to  what  he 
was  then  publishing,  he  professed  his  heartfelt  embarrass 
ment  how  he  was  to  believe  any  thing  I  might  say  in  my 
exculpation,  in  the  plain  and  literal  sense  of  the  words. 
"  I  am  henceforth,"  he  said,  "  in  doubt  and  fear,  as  much 
as  an  honest  man  can  be,  concerning  every  word  Dr.  New 
man  may  write.  How  can  I  tell,  that  I  shall  not  be  the 
dupe  of  some  cunning  equivocation,  of  one  of  the  thre; 
kinds  laid  down  as  permissible  by  the  blessed  St.  Alfonso 
da  Liguori  and  his  pupils,  even  when  confirmed  with  an 
oath,  because  '  then  we  do  not  deceive  our  neighbour,  but 
allow  him  to  deceive  himself  ?  '  .  .  .  How  can  I  tell,  that 
I  may  not  in  this  Pamphlet  have  made  an  accusation,  of 
the  truth  of  which  Dr.  Newman  is  perfectly  conscious  ;  but 
that,  as  I,  a  heretic  Protestant,  have  no  business  to  make 
it,  he  has  a  full  right  to  deny  it  ?  " 

Even  if  I  could  have  found  it  consistent  with  my  duty 
to  my  own  reputation  to  leave  such  an  elaborate  impeach 
ment  of  my  moral  nature  unanswered,  my  duty  to  my 
Brethren  in  the  Catholic  Priesthood,  would  have  forbidden 
such  a  course.  They  were  involved  in  the  charges  which 
this  writer,  all  along,  from  the  original  passage  in  the 
Magazine,  to  the  very  last  paragraph  of  the  Pamphlet,  had 
so  confidently,  so  pertinaciously  made.  In  exculpating 
myself,  it  was  plain  I  should  be  pursuing  no  mere  personal 
quarrel ; — I  was  offering  my  humble  service  to  a  sacred 


PREFACE  TO  THE  1865  EDITION.  487 

cause.  I  was  making  my  protest  in  behalf  of  a  large  body 
of  men  of  high  character,  of  honest  and  religious  minds, 
and  of  sensitive  honour, — who  had  their  place  and  their 
rights  in  this  world,  though  they  were  ministers  of  the 
world  unseen,  and  who  were  insulted  by  my  Accuser,  as 
the  above  extracts  from  him  sufficiently  show,  not  only  in 
my  person,  but  directly  and  pointedly  in  their  own.  Accord 
ingly,  I  at  once  set  about  writing  the  Apologia  pro-vitd  sud, 
of  which  the  present  Volume  is  the  Second  Edition ;  and 
it  was  a  great  reward  to  me  to  find,  as  the  controversy 
proceeded,  such  large  numbers  of  my  clerical  brethren 
supporting  me  by  their  sympathy  in  the  course  which  I  was 
pursuing,  and,  as  occasion  offered,  bestowing  on  me  the 
formal  and  public  expression  of  their  approbation.  These 
testimonials  in  my  behalf,  so  important  and  so  grateful  to 
me,  are,  together  with  the  Letter,  sent  to  me  with  the  same 
purpose,  from  my  Bishop,  contained  in  the  last  pages  of 
this  Volume. 

This  Edition  differs  from  the  Apologia  in  the  following 
particulars  : — The  original  work  consisted  of  seven  Parts, 
which  were  published  in  series  on  consecutive  Thursdays, 
between  April  21  and  June  2.  An  Appendix,  in  answer  to 
specific  allegations  urged  against  me  in  the  Pamphlet  of 
Accusation,  appeared  on  June  16.  Of  these  Parts  1  and  2, 
as  being  for  the  most  part  directly  controversial,  are 
omitted  in  this  Edition,  excepting  the  latter  pages  of 
Part  2,  which  are  subjoined  to  this  Preface1,  as  being 
necessary  for  the  due  explanation  of  the  subsequent  five 
Parts.  These,  (being  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  of  the  Apologia,)  are  here 
numbered  as  Chapters  1,  2,  3,  4,  5  respectively.  Of  the 
Appendix,  about  half  has  been  omitted,  for  the  same 
reason  as  has  led  to  the  omission  of  Parts  1  and  2.  The 
rest  of  it  is  thrown  into  the  shape  of  Notes  of  a  discursive 
character,  with  two  new  ones  on  Liberalism  and  the  Lives 
of  the  English  Saints  of  1843-4,  and  another,  new  in  part,  011 
Ecclesiastical  Miracles.  In  the  body  of  the  work,  the  only 
addition  of  consequence  is  the  letter  which  is  found  at  p.  319, 
a  copy  of  which  has  recently  come  into  my  possession. 

[*  They  appear  in  Mistook  as  pp.  87-8,  95-101,  in  their  place  as  part  of 
the  1864  volume.] 


488  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS. 

I  should  add  that,  since  writing  the  Apologia  last  year, 
I  have  seen  for  the  first  time  Mr.  Oakeley's  "  Notes  on  the 
Tractarian  Movement."  This  work  remarkably  corro 
borates  the  substance  of  my  Narrative,  while  the  kind  terms 
in  which  he  speaks  of  me  personally,  call  for  my  sincere, 
gratitude. 

May  2, 1865. 


CONTENTS 

OF  '  HISTORY  OF  MY  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS ',  1865 
CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  up  to  1833  .          .          .105 

CHAPTER  II. 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  from  1833  to  1839       .         .     139 

CHAPTER  III. 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  from  1839  to  1841        .         .      191 

CHAPTER  IV. 

History  of  my  Religious  Opinions  from  1841  to  1845       .         .     245 

CHAPTER  V. 

Position  of  my  Mind  since  1845    .         .         .         .         .         .331 

NOTES. 

Note  A.  On  page  116.     Liberalism 491 

B.  On  page  126.     Ecclesiastical  Miracles       .         416,425,407 

C.  On  page  250.     Sermon  on  Wisdom  and  Innocence  378 


D.  On  page  304.  Series  of  Saints' Lives  of  1843-4 

E.  On  page  318.  Anglican  Church 

F.  On  page  360.  The  Economy. 

G.  On  page  369.  Lying  and  Equivocation  . 

SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER. 


503 
393 
430 
438 


1.  Chronological  List  of  Letters  and  Papers  quoted  in  this 

Narrative         ........  519 

2.  List  of  the  Author's  Works 471 

3.  Letter  to  him  from  his  Diocesan      .....  473 

4.  Addresses  from  bodies  of  Clergy  and  Laity        .          .          .  523 

B3 


NOTES. 
NOTE  A.    ON  PAGE  116. 

LIBERALISM. 


I  HAVE  been  asked  to  explain  more  fully  what  it  is  I  mean 
by  "  Liberalism,"  because  merely  to  call  it  the  Anti- 
dogmatic  Principle  is  to  tell  very  little  about  it.  An 
explanation  is  the  more  necessary,  because  such  good 
Catholics  and  distinguished  writers  as  Count  Montalembert 
and  Father  Lacprdaire  use  the  word  in  a  favorable  sense, 
and  claim  to  be  Liberals  themselves.  "  The  only  singu 
larity,"  says  the  former  of  the  two  in  describing  his  friend, 
"  was  his  Liberalism.  By  a  phenomenon,  at  that  time 
unheard  of,  this  convert,  this  seminarist,  this  confessor 
of  nuns,  was  just  as  stubborn  a  liberal,  as  in'the  days  when 
he  was  a  student  and  a  barrister." — Life  (transl.),  p.  19. 

I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  possible  for  me  to  differ  in 
any  important  matter  from  two  men  whom  I  so  highly 
admire.  In  their  general  line  of  thought  and  conduct 
I  enthusiastically  concur,  and  consider  them  to  be  before 
their  age.  And  it  would  be  strange  indeed  if  I  did  not 
read  with  a  special  interest,  in  M.  de  Montalembert's 
beautiful  volume,  of  the  unselfish  aims,  the  thwarted  pro 
jects,  the  unrequited  toils,  the  grand  and  tender  resignation 
of  Lacordaire.  If  I  hesitate  to  adopt  their  language 
about  Liberalism,  I  impute  the  necessity  of  such  hesitation 
to  some  differences  between  us  in  the  use  of  words  or 
in  the  circumstances  of  country ;  and  thus  I  reconcile 
myself  to  remaining  faithful  to  my  own  conception  of  it, 
though  I  cannot  have  their  voices  to  give  force  to  mine. 
Speaking  then  in  my  own  way,  I  proceed  to  explain  what 
I  meant  as  a  Protestant  by  Liberalism,  and  to  do  so  in 


492  NOTE  A. 

connexion  with  the  circumstances  under  which  that  system 
of  opinion  came  before  me  at  Oxford. 

If  I  might  presume  to  contrast  Lacordaire  and  myself, 
I  should  say,  that  we  had  been  both  of  us  inconsistent  ; — 
he,  a  Catholic,  in  calling  himself  a  Liberal ;  I,  a  Protestant, 
in  being  an  Anti-liberal ;  and  moreover,  that  the  cause 
of  this  inconsistency  had  been  in  both  cases  one  and  the 
same.  That  is,  we  were  both  of  us  such  good  conservatives, 
as  to  take  up  with  what  we  happened  to  find  established 
in  our  respective  countries,  at  the  time  when  we  came  into 
active  life.  Toryism  was  the  creed  of  Oxford  ;  he  inherited, 
and  made  the  best  of,  the  French  Revolution. 

When,  in  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  not 
very  long  before  my  own  time,  after  many  years  of  moral 
and  intellectual  declension,  the  University  of  Oxford  woke 
up  to  a  sense  of  its  duties,  and  began  to  reform  itself,  the 
first  instruments  of  this  change,  to  whose  zeal  and  courage 
we  all  owe  so  much,  were  naturally  thrown  together  for 
mutual  support,  against  the  numerous  obstacles  which  lay 
in  their  path,  and  soon  stood  out  in  relief  from  the  body 
of  residents,  who,  though  many  of  them  men  of  talent 
themselves,  cared  little  for  the  object  which  the  others 
had  at  heart.  These  Reformers,  as  they  may  be  called, 
were  for  some  years  members  of  scarcely  more  than  three 
or  four  Colleges  ;  and  their  own  Colleges,  as  being  under 
their  direct  influence,  of  course  had  the  benefit  of  those 
stricter  views  of  discipline  and  teaching,  which  they  them 
selves  were  urging  on  the  University.  They  had,  in  110 
long  time,  enough  of  real  progress  in  their  several  spheres 
of  exertion,  and  enough  of  reputation  out  of  doors,  to  war 
rant  them  in  considering  themselves  the  elite  of  the  place  ; 
and  it  is  not  wonderful  if  they  were  in  consequence  led  to 
look  down  upon  the  majority  of  Colleges,  which  had  not 
kept  pace  with  the  reform,  or  which  had  been  hostile  to  it. 
And,  when  those  rivalries  of  one  man  with  another  arose, 
whether  personal  or  collegiate,  which  befall  literary  and 
scientific  societies,  such  disturbances  did  but  tend  to 
raise  in  their  eyes  the  value  which  they  had  already  set 
upon  academical  distinction,  and  increase  their  zeal  in 
pursuing  it.  Thus  was  formed  an  intellectual  circle  or 
class  in  the  University, — men,  who  felt  they  had  a  career 


LIBERALISM.  493 

before  them,  as  soon  as  the  pupils,  whom  they  were  form 
ing,  came  into  public  life  ;  men,  whom  non-residents, 
whether  country  parsons  or  preachers  of  the  Low  Church, 
on  coming  up  from  time  to  time  to  the  old  place,  would 
look  at,  partly  with  admiration,  partly  with  suspicion,  as 
being  an  honour  indeed  to  Oxford,  but  withal  exposed  to 
the  temptation  of  ambitious  views,  and  to  the  spiritual 
evils  signified  in  what  is  called  the  "  pride  of  reason." 

Nor  was  this  imputation  altogether  unjust  ;  for,  as  they 
were  following  out  the  proper  idea  of  a  University,  of 
course  they  suffered  more  or  less  from  the  moral  malady 
incident  to  such  a  pursuit.  The  very  object  of  such  great 
institutions  lies  in  the  cultivation  of  the  mind  and  the 
spread  of  knowledge  :  if  this  object,  as  all  human  objects, 
has  its  dangers  at  all  times,  much  more  would  these  exist 
in  the  case  of  men,  who  were  engaged  in  a  work  of  reforma 
tion,  and  had  the  opportunity  of  measuring  themselves,  not 
only  with  those  who  were  their  equals  in  intellect,  but  with 
the  many,  who  were  below  them.  In  this  select  circle  or 
class  of  men,  in  various  Colleges,  the  direct  instruments 
and  the  choice  fruit  of  real  University  Reform,  we  see  the 
rudiments  of  the  Liberal  party. 

Whenever  men  are  able  to  act  at  all,  there  is  the  chance 
of  extreme  and  intemperate  action  ;  and  therefore,  when 
there  is  exercise  of  mind,  there  is  the  chance  of  wayward 
or  mistaken  exercise.  Liberty  of  thought  is  in  itself  a  good  ; 
but  it  gives  an  opening  to  false  liberty.  Now  by  Liberalism 
I  mean  false  liberty  of  thought,  or  the  exercise  of  thought 
upon  matters,  in  which,  from  the  constitution  of  the  human 
mind,  thought  cannot  be  brought  to  any  successful  issue, 
and  therefore  is  out  of  place.  Among  such  matters  are  first 
principles  of  whatever  kind  ;  and  of  these  the  most  sacred 
and  momentous  are  especially  to  be  reckoned  the  truths  of 
Revelation.  Liberalism  then  is  the  mistake  of  subjecting 
to  human  judgment  those  revealed  doctrines  which  are  in 
their  nature  beyond  and  independent  of  it,  and  of  claiming 
to  determine  on  intrinsic  grounds  the  truth  and  value  of 
propositions  which  rest  for  their  reception  simply  on  the 
external  authority  of  the  Divine  Word. 

Now  certainly  the  party  of  whom  I  have  been  speaking, 
taken  as  a  whole,  were  of  a  character  of  mind  out  of  which 


494  NOTE  A. 

Liberalism  might  easily  grow  up,  as  in  fact  it  did  ;  certainly 
they  breathed  around  an  influence  which  made  men  of 
religious  seriousness  shrink  into  themselves.  But,  while 
I  say  as  much  as  this,  I  have  no  intention  whatever  of 
implying  that  the  talent  of  the  University,  in  the  years 
before  and  after  1820,  was  liberal  in  its  theology,  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  bulk  of  the  educated  classes  through 
the  country  are  liberal  now.  I  would  not  for  the  world  be 
supposed  to  detract  from  the  Christian  earnestness,  and 
the  activity  in  religious  works,  above  the  average  of  men, 
of  many  of  the  persons  in  question.  They  would  have 
protested  against  their  being  supposed  to  place  reason 
before  faith,  or  knowledge  before  devotion  ;  yet  I  do  con 
sider  that  they  unconsciously  encouraged  and  successfully 
introduced  into  Oxford  a  licence  of  opinion  which  went  far 
beyond  them.  In  their  day  they  did  little  more  than  take 
credit  to  themselves  for  enlightened  views,  largeness  of 
mind,  liberality  of  sentiment,  without  drawing  the  line 
between  what  was  just  and  what  was  inadmissible  in 
speculation,  and  without  seeing  the  tendency  of  their  own 
principles  ;  and  engrossing,  as  they  did,  the  mental  energy 
of  the  University,  they  met  for  a  time  with  no  effectual 
hindrance  to  the  spread  of  their  influence,  except  (what 
indeed  at  the  moment  was  most  effectual,  but  not  of  an 
intellectual  character)  the  thorough-going  Toryism  and 
traditionary  Church-of-England-ism  of  the  great  body  of 
the  Colleges  and  Convocation. 

Now  and  then  a  man  of  note  appeared  in  the  Pulpit 
or  Lecture  Rooms  of  the  University,  who  was  a  worthy 
representative  of  the  more  religious  and  devout  Anglicans. 
These  belonged  chiefly  to  the  High-Church  party  ;  for  the 
party  called  Evangelical  never  has  been  able  to  breathe 
freely  in  the  atmosphere  of  Oxford,  and  at  no  time  has 
been  conspicuous,  as  a  party,  for  talent  or  learning.  But 
of  the  old  High  Churchmen  several  exerted  some  sort  of 
Anti-liberal  influence  in  the  place,  at  least  from  time  to 
time,  and  that  influence  of  an  intellectual  nature.  Among 
these  especially  may  be  mentioned  Mr.  John  Miller,  of 
Worcester  College,  who  preached  the  Bampton  Lecture 
in  the  year  1817.  But,  as  far  as  I  know,  he  who  turned 
the  tide,  and  brought  the  talent  of  the  University  round 


LIBERALISM.  495 

to  the  side  of  the  old  theology,  and  against  what  was 
familiarly  called  "  march-of-mind,"  was  Mr.  Keble.  In 
and  from  Keble  the  mental  activity  of  Oxford  took  that 
contrary  direction  which  issued  in  what  was  called  Trac- 
tarianism. 

Keble  was  young  in  years,  when  he  became  a  University 
celebrity,  and  younger  in  mind.  He  had  the  purity  and 
simplicity  of  a  child.  He  had  few  sympathies  with  the  in 
tellectual  party,  who  sincerely  welcomed  him  as  a  brilliant 
specimen  of  young  Oxford.  He  instinctively  shut  up  before 
literary  display,  and  pomp  and  donnishness  of  manner, 
faults  which  always  will  beset  academical  notabilities. 
He  did  not  respond  to  their  advances.  His  collision  with 
them  (if  it  may  be  so  called)  was  thus  described  by  Hurrell 
Froude  in  his  own  way.  "  Poor  Keble  !  "  he  used  gravely 
to  say,  "  he  was  asked  to  join  the  aristocracy  of  talent,  but 
he  soon  found  his  level."  He  went  into  the  country,  but 
his  instance  serves  to  prove  that  men  need  not,  in  the 
event,  lose  that  influence  which  is  rightly  theirs,  because 
they  happen  to  be  thwarted  in  the  use  of  the  channels 
natural  and  proper  to  its  exercise.  He  did  not  lose  his 
place  in  the  minds  of  men  because  he  was  out  of  their  sight. 

Keble  was  a  man  who  guided  himself  and  formed  his 
judgments,  not  by  processes  of  reason,  by  inquiry  or  by 
argument,  but,  to  use  the  word  in  a  broad  sense,  by 
authority.  Conscience  is  an  authority  ;  the  Bible  is  an 
authority  ;  such  is  the  Church  ;  such  is  Antiquity  ;  such 
are  the  words  of  the  wise  ;  such  are  hereditary  lessons  ; 
such  are  ethical  truths;  such  are  historical  memories,  such 
are  legal  saws  and  state  maxims  ;  such  are  proverbs  ;  such 
are  sentiments,  presages,  and  prepossessions.  It  seemed  to 
me  as  if  he  ever  felt  happier,  when  he  could  speak  or  act 
under  some  such  primary  or  external  sanction  ;  and  could 
use  argument  mainly  as  a  means  of  recommending  or 
explaining  what  had  claims  on  his  reception  prior  to  proof. 
He  even  felt  a  tenderness,  I  think,  in  spite  of  Bacon,  for 
the  Idols  of  the  Tribe  and  the  Den,  of  the  Market  and 
the  Theatre.  What  he  hated  instinctively  was  heresy,  in 
subordination,  resistance  to  things  established,  claims  of 
independence,  disloyalty,  innovation,  a  critical,  censorious 
spirit.  And  such  was  the  main  principle  of  the  school 


496  NOTE  A. 

which  in  the  course  of  years  was  formed  around  him  ;  nor 
is  it  easy  to  set  limits  to  its  influence  in  its  day  ;  for  multi 
tudes  of  men,  who  did  not  profess  its  teaching,  or  accept 
its  peculiar  doctrines,  were  willing  nevertheless,  or  found 
it  to  their  purpose,  to  act  in  company  with  it. 

Indeed  for  a  time  it  was  practically  the  champion  and 
advocate  of  the  political  doctrines  of  the  great  clerical 
interest  through  the  country,  who  found  in  Mr.  Keble  and 
his  friends  an  intellectual,  as  well  as  moral  support  to  their 
cause,  which  they  looked  for  in  vain  elsewhere.  His  weak 
point,  in  their  eyes,  was  his  consistency  ;  for  he  carried 
his  love  of  authority  and  old  times  so  far,  as  to  be  more 
than  gentle  towards  the  Catholic  Religion,  with  which 
the  Toryism  of  Oxford  and  of  the  Church  of  England  had 
no  sympathy.  Accordingly,  if  my  memory  be  correct,  he 
never  could  get  himself  to  throw  his  heart  into  the  opposi 
tion  made  to  Catholic  Emancipation,  strongly  as  he  revolted 
from  the  politics  and  the  instruments  by  means  of  which 
that  Emancipation  was  won.  I  fancy  he  would  have  had 
no  difficulty  in  accepting  Dr.  Johnson's  saying  about  "  the 
first  Whig  ;  "  and  it  grieved  and  offended  him  that  the 
"  Via  prima  salutis  "  should  be  opened  to  the  Catholic  body 
from  the  Whig  quarter.  In  spite  of  his  reverence  for  the 
Old  Religion,  I  conceive  that  on  the  whole  he  would  rather 
have  kept  its  professors  beyond  the  pale  of  the  Constitution 
with  the  Tories,  than  admit  them  on  the  principles  of  the 
Whigs.  Moreover,  if  the  Revolution  of  1688  was  too 
lax  in  principle  for  him  and  his  friends,  much  less,  as  is 
very  plain,  could  they  endure  to  subscribe  to  the  revolu 
tionary  doctrines  of  1776  and  1789,  which  they  felt  to  be 
absolutely  and  entirely  out  of  keeping  with  theological 
truth. 

The  Old  Tory  or  Conservative  party  in  Oxford  had  in  it 
no  principle  or  power  of  development,  and  that  from  its 
very  nature  and  constitution  :  it  was  otherwise  with  the 
Liberals.  They  represented  a  new  idea,  which  was  but 
gradually  learning  to  recognize  itself,  to  ascertain  its 
characteristics  and  external  relations,  and  to  exert  an 
influence  upon  the  University.  The  party  grew,  all  the 
time  that  I  was  in  Oxford,  even  in  numbers,  certainly  in 
breadth  and  definiteness  of  doctrine,  and  in  power.  And, 


LIBERALISM.  497 

what  was  a  far  higher  consideration,  by  the  accession  of 
Dr.  Arnold's  pupils,  it  was  invested  with  an  elevation  of 
character  which  claimed  the  respect  even  of  its  opponents. 
On  the  other  hand,  in  proportion  as  it  became  more  earn 
est  and  less  self -applauding,  it  became  more  free-spoken ; 
and  members  of  it  might  be  found  who,  from  the  mere 
circumstance  of  remaining  firm  to  their  original  professions, 
would  in  the  judgment  of  the  world,  as  to  their  public 
acts,  seem  to  have  left  it  for  the  Conservative  camp. 
Thus,  neither  in  its  component  parts  nor  in  its  policy,  was 
it  the  same  in  1832,  1836,  and  1841,  as  it  was  in  1845. 

These  last  remarks  will  serve  to  throw  light  upon 
a  matter  personal  to  myself,  which  I  have  introduced 
into  my  Narrative,  and  to  which  my  attention  has  been 
pointedly  called,  now  that  my  Volume  is  coming  to  a 
second  edition. 

It  has  been  strongly  urged  upon  me  to  re -consider  the 
following  passages  which  occur  in  it  :  "  The  men  who  had 
driven  me  from  Oxford  were  distinctly  the  Liberals,  it  was 
they  who  had  opened  the  attack  upon  Tract  90,"  p.  296, 
and  "  I  found  no  fault  with  the  Liberals  ;  they  had  beaten 
me  in  a  fair  field,"  p.  305. 

I  am  very  unwilling  to  seem  ungracious,  or  to  cause  pain 
in  any  quarter  ;  still  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  cannot  modify 
these  statements.  It  is  surely  a  matter  of  historical  fact 
that  I  left  Oxford  upon  the  University  proceedings  of  1841 ; 
and  in  those  proceedings,  whether  we  look  to  the  Heads  of 
Houses  or  the  resident  Masters,  the  leaders,  if  intellect 
and  influence  make  men  such,  were  members  of  the  Liberal 
party.  Those  who  did  not  lead,  concurred  or  acquiesced 
in  them, — I  may  say,  felt  a  satisfaction.  I  do  not  recollect 
any  Liberal  who  was  on  my  side  on  that  occasion.  Ex 
cepting  the  Liberal,  no  other  party,  as  a  party,  acted 
against  me.  I  am  not  complaining  of  them  ;  I  deserved 
nothing  else  at  their  hands.  They  could  not  undo  in  1845, 
even  had  they  wished  it,  (and  there  is  no  proof  they  did,) 
what  they  had  done  in  1841.  In  1845,  when  I  had  already 
given  up  the  contest  for  four  years,  and  my  part  in  it  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  others,  then  some  of  those  who 
were  prominent  against  me  in  1841,  feeling  (what  they 
had  not  felt  in  1841)  the  danger  of  driving  a  number  of  my 


498  NOTE  A. 

followers  to  Rome,  and  joined  by  younger  friends  who 
had  come  into  University  importance  since  1841  and  felt 
kindly  towards  me,  adopted  a  course  more  consistent  with 
their  principles,  and  proceeded  to  shield  from  the  zeal 
of  the  Hebdomadal  Board,  not  me,  but,  professedly,  all 
parties  through  the  country, — Tractarians,  Evangelicals, 
Liberals  in  general, — who  had  to  subscribe  to  the  Anglican 
formularies,  on  the  ground  that  those  formularies,  rigidly 
taken,  were,  on  some  point  or  other,  a  difficulty  to  all 
parties  alike. 

However,  besides  the  historical  fact,  I  can  bear  witness 
to  my  own  feeling  at  the  time,  and  my  feeling  was  this  :— 
that  those  who  in  1841  had  considered  it  to  be  a  duty  to 
act  against  me,  had  then  done  their  worst.  What  was  it 
to  me  what  they  were  doing  in  the  matter  of  the  New 
Test  proposed  by  the  Hebdomadal  Board  ?  I  owed  them 
no  thanks  for  their  trouble.  I  took  no  interest  at  all,  in 
February,  1845,  in  the  proceedings  of  the  Heads  of  Houses 
and  of  the  Convocation.  I  felt  myself  dead  as  regarded 
my  relations  to  the  Anglican  Church.  My  leaving  it  was 
all  but  a  matter  of  time.  I  believe  I  did  not  even  thank 
my  real  friends,  the  two  Proctors,  who  in  Convocation 
stopped  by  their  Veto  the  condemnation  of  Tract  90  ; 
nor  did  I  make  any  acknowledgment  to  Mr.  Rogers,  nor 
to  Mr.  James  Mozley,  nor,  as  I  think,  to  Mr.  Hussey,  for 
their  pamphlets  in  my  behalf.  My  frame  of  mind  is  best 
described  by  the  sentiment  of  the  passage  in  Horace,  which 
at  the  time  I  was  fond  of  quoting,  as  expressing  my  view 
of  the  relation  that  existed  between  the  Vice -Chancellor 
and  myself. 

"Pentheu, 

Rector  Thebarum,  quid  me  perferre  patique 
Indignum  cogas  ?  "  "  Adimam  bona."    "  Nempe  pecus,  rem, 
Lectos,  argentum  ;   tollas  licet."     "  In  manicis  et 
Compedibus,  saevo  te  sub  custode  tenebo."    (viz.  the  39  Articles.] 
"  Ipse  Deus,  simul  atque  volam,  me  solvet."    Opinor, 
Hoc  sentit :  Moriar.    Mors  ultima  linea  rerum  est. 

I  conclude  this  notice  of  Liberalism  in  Oxford,  and  the 
party  which  was  antagonistic  to  it,  with  some  propositions 
in  detail,  which,  as  a  member  of  the  latter,  and  together 
with  the  High  Church,  I  earnestly  denounced  and  abjured. 


LIBERALISM.  499 

1.  No  religious  tenet  is  important,  unless  reason  shows  it 
to  be  so. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  the  doctrine  of  the  Athanasian  Creed  is  not 
to  be  insisted  on,  unless  it  tends  to  convert  the  soul ;  and 
the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  is  to  be  insisted  on,  if  it  does 
convert  the  soul. 

2.  No  one  can  believe  what  he  does  not  understand. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  there  are  no  mysteries  in  true  religion. 

3.  No  theological  doctrine  is  any  thing  more  than  an 
opinion  which  happens  to  be  held  by  bodies  of  men. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  no  creed,  as  such,  is  necessary  for  salvation. 

4.  It  is  dishonest  in  a  man  to  make  an  act  of  faith  in 
what  he  has  not  had  brought  home  to  him  by  actual  proof. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  the  mass  of  men  ought  not  absolutely  to 
believe  in  the  divine  authority  of  the  Bible. 

5.  It  is  immoral  in  a  man  to  believe  more  than  he  can 
spontaneously  receive  as  being  congenial  to  his  moral  and 
mental  nature. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  a  given  individual  is  not  bound  to  believe 
in  eternal  punishment. 

6.  No   revealed   doctrines  or  precepts  may  reasonably 
stand  in  the  way  of  scientific  conclusions. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  Political  Economy  may  reverse  our  Lord's 
declarations  about  poverty  and  riches,  or  a  system  of  Ethics 
may  teach  that  the  highest  condition  of  body  is  ordinarily 
essential  to  the  highest  state  of  mind. 

7.  Christianity  is  necessarily  modified  by  the  growth  of 
civilization,  and  the  exigencies  of  times. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  the  Catholic  priesthood,  though  necessary 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  may  be  superseded  now. 

8.  There  is  a  system  of  religion  more  simply  true  than 
Christianity  as  it  has  ever  been  received. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  we  may  advance  that  Christianity  is  the 
"  corn  of  wheat  "  which  has  been  dead  for  1800  years,  but 
at  length  will  bear  fruit ;  and  that  Mahometanism  is  the 
manly  religion,  and  existing  Christianity  the  womanish. 


500  NOTE  A. 

9.  There  is  a  right  of  Private  Judgment  :   that  is,  there 
is  no  existing  authority  on  earth  competent  to  interfere 
with  the  liberty  of  individuals  in  reasoning  and  judging 
for  themselves  about  the  Bible  and  its  contents,  as  they 
severally  please. 

Therefore,    e.  g.   religious    establishments    requiring   sub< 
scription  are  Anti-  Christian. 

10.  There  are  rights  of  conscience  such,  that  every  one 
may  lawfully  advance  a  claim  to  profess  and  teach  what  is 
false  and  wrong  in  matters,  religious,  social,  and  moral, 
provided  that  to  his  private  conscience  it  seems  absolutely 
true  and  right. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  individuals  have  a  right  to  preach  and 
practise  fornication  and  polygamy. 

11.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  national  or  state  con 
science  . 

Therefore,  e.  g.  no  judgments  can  fall  upon  a  sinful  or 
infidel  nation. 

12.  The  civil  power  has  no  positive  duty,  in  a  normal 
state  of  things,  to  maintain  religious  truth. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  blasphemy  and  sabbath-breaking  are  not 
rightly  punishable  by  law. 

13.  Utility  and  expedience  are  the  measure  of  political 
duty. 


Therefore,  e.  g.  no  punishment  may  be  enacted,  on  the 
ground  that  God  commands  it  :  e.  g.  on  the  text,  "  Whoso 
sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed." 


14.  The  Civil  Power  may  dispose  of  Church  property 
without  sacrilege. 

Therefore,   e.  g.    Henry  VIII.    committed   no   sin  in   his 
spoliations. 

15.  The  Civil  Power  has  the  right  of  ecclesiastical  juris 
diction  and  administration. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  Parliament  may  impose  articles  of  faith 
on  the  Church  or  suppress  Dioceses. 


LIBERALISM.  501 

16.  It  is  lawful  to  rise  in  arms  against  legitimate  princes. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  the  Puritans  in  the  17th  century,  and  the 
French  in  the  18th,  were  justifiable  in  their  Rebellion  and 
Revolution  respectively. 

17.  The  people  are  the  legitimate  source  of  power. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  Universal  Suffrage  is  among  the  natural 
rights  of  man. 

18.  Virtue  is  the  child  of  knowledge,  and  vice  of  ignor 
ance. 

Therefore,  e.  g.  education,  periodical  literature,  railroad 
travelling,  Ventilation,  drainage,  and  the  arts  of  life,  when 
fully  carried  out,  serve  to  make  a  population  moral  and 
happy. 

All  of  these  propositions,  and  many  others  too,  were 
familiar  to  me  thirty  years  ago,  as  in  the  number  of  the 
tenets  of  Liberalism,  and,  while  I  gave  into  none  of  them 
except  No.  12,  and  perhaps  No.  11,  and  partly  No.  1, 
before  I  began  to  publish,  so  afterwards  I  wrote  against 
most  of  them  in  some  part  or  other  of  my  Anglican  works. 

If  it  is  necessary  to  refer  to  a  work,  not  simply  my  own, 
but  of  the  Tractarian  school,  which  contains  a  similar 
protest,  I  should  name  the  Lyra  Apostolica.  This  volume, 
which  by  accident  has  been  left  unnoticed,  except  inci 
dentally,  in  my  Narrative,  was  collected  together  from  the 
pages  of  the  "  British  Magazine,"  in  which  its  contents 
originally  appeared,  and  published  in  a  separate  form, 
immediately  after  Hurrell  Froude's  death  in  1836.  Its 
signatures,  a,  /?,  y,  <$,  e,  £,  denote  respectively  the  author 
ship  of  Mr.  Bowden,  Mr.  Hurrell  Froude,  Mr.  Keble, 
myself,  Mr.  Robert  Wilberforce,  and  Mr.  Isaac  Williams. 

There  is  one  poem  on  "  Liberalism,"  beginning  "  Ye 
cannot  halve  the  Gospel  of  God's  grace  ;  "  which  bears 
out  the  account  of  Liberalism  as  above  given.  Another 
upon  "  the  Age  to  come,"  defining  from  its  own  point  of 
view  the  position  and  prospects  of  Liberalism,  shall  be 
quoted  in  extenso. 

When  I  would  search  the  truths  that  in  me  burn, 

And  mould  them  into  rule  and  argument, 
A  hundred  reasoners  cried, — "  Hast  thou  to  learn 

Those  dreams  are  scattered  now,  those  fires  are  spent  ?  " 


602  NOTE  A. 

And,  did  I  mount  to  simpler  thoughts,  and  try 
Some  theme  of  peace,  *twas  still  the  same  reply. 

Perplexed,  I  hoped  my  heart  was  pure  of  guile, 
But  judged  me  weak  in  wit,  to  disagree ; 

But  now  I  see,  that  men  are  mad  awhile, 
And  joy  the  Age  to  come  will  think  of  me ; 

'Tis  the  old  history : — Truth  without  a  home, 
Despised  and  slain ;  then,  rising  from  the  tomb. 


{The  several  paragraphs  o]  Note  B  (1865)  ivitl  be  found  in  this  book  on 
pp.  416-18,  425,  407-15. 

Note  C  (1865)  will  be  found  in  this  book  on  p.  378,  in  its  place  as  part 
of  the  1864  volume.) 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4.  503 


NOTE  D.    ON  PAGE  304. 
SEEIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4. 


I  HAVE  here  an  opportunity  of  preserving,  what  other 
wise  would  be  lost,  the  Catalogue  of  English  Saints  which 
I  formed,  as  preparatory  to  the  Series  of  their  Lives  which 
was  begun  in  the  above  years.  It  is  but  a  first  Essay,  and 
has  many  obvious  imperfections  ;  but  it  may  be  useful 
to  others  as  a  step  towards  a  complete  hagiography  for 
England.  For  instance  St.  Osberga  is  omitted  ;  I  suppose 
because  it  was  not  easy  to  learn  any  thing  about  her. 
Boniface  of  Canterbury  is  inserted,  though  passed  over  by 
the  Bollandists  on  the  ground  of  the  absence  of  proof  of 
a  cultus  having  been  paid  to  him.  The  Saints  of  Cornwall 
were  too  numerous  to  be  attempted.  Among  the  men  of 
note,  not  Saints,  King  Edward  II.  is  included  from  piety 
towards  the  founder  of  Oriel  College.  With  these  admis 
sions  I  present  my  Paper  to  the  reader. 

Preparing  for  Publication,  in  Periodical  Numbers,  in  small  8vo, 
The  Lives  of  the  English  Saints,  Edited  by  the  Rev.  John  Henry 
Newman,  B.D.,  Fellow  of  Oriel  College. 

IT  is  the  compensation  of  the  disorders  and  perplexities  of  these 
latter  times  of  the  Church  that  we  have  the  history  of  the  foregoing. 
We  indeed  of  this  day  have  been  reserved  to  witness  a  disorganization 
of  the  City  of  God,  which  it  never  entered  into  the  minds  of  the 
early  believers  to  imagine  :  but  we  are  witnesses  also  of  its  triumphs 
and  of  its  luminaries  through  those  many  ages  which  have  brought 
about  the  misfortunes  which  at  present  overshadow  it.  If  they 
were  blessed  who  lived  in  primitive  times,  and  saw  the  fresh  traces 
of  their  Lord,  and  heard  the  echoes  of  Apostolic  voices,  blessed  too 
are  we  whose  special  portion  it  is  to  see  that  same  Lord  revealed  in 
His  Saints.  The  wonders  of  His  grace  in  the  soul  of  man,  its  creative 
power,  its  inexhaustible  resources,  its  manifold  operation,  all  this 


504  NOTE  D. 

we  know,  as  they  knew  it  not.  They  never  heard  the  names  of 
St.  Gregory,  St.  Bernard,  St.  Francis,  and  St.  Louis.  In  fixing  our 
thoughts  then,  as  in  an  undertaking  like  the  present,  on  the  History 
of  the  Saints,  we  are  but  availing  ourselves  of  that  solace  and 
recompense  of  our  peculiar  trials  which  has  been  provided  for  our 
need  by  our  Gracious  Master. 

And  there  are  special  reasons  at  this  time  for  recurring  to  the 
Saints  of  our  own  dear  and  glorious,  most  favoured,  yet  most  erring 
and  most  unfortunate  England.  Such  a  recurrence  may  serve  to 
make  us  love  our  country  better,  and  on  truer  grounds,  than  hereto 
fore  ;  to  teach  us  to  invest  her  territory,  her  cities  and  villages,  her 
hills  and  springs,  with  sacred  associations  ;  to  give  us  an  insight 
into  her  present  historical  position  in  the  course  of  the  Divine 
Dispensation ;  to  instruct  us  in  the  capabilities  of  the  English 
character ;  and  to  open  upon  us  the  duties  and  the  hopes  to 
which  that  Church  is  heir,  which  was  in  former  times  the  Mother  of 
St.  Boniface  and  St.  Ethelreda. 

Even  a  selection  or  specimens  of  the  Hagiology  of  our  country 
may  suffice  for  some  of  these  high  purposes  ;  and  in  so  wide  and  rich 
a  field  of  research  it  is  almost  presumptuous  in  one  undertaking 
to  aim  at  more  than  such  a  partial  exhibition.  The  list  that  follows, 
though  by  no  means  so  large  as  might  have  been  drawn  up,  exceeds 
the  limits  which  the  Editor  proposes  to  his  hopes,  if  not  to  his 
wishes  ;  but,  whether  it  is  allowed  him  to  accomplish  a  larger  or 
smaller  portion  of  it,  it  will  be  his  aim  to  complete  such  subjects 
or  periods  as  he  begins  before  bringing  it  to  a  close.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  observe  that  any  list  that  is  producible  in  this  stage  of 
the  undertaking  can  but  approximate  to  correctness  and  complete 
ness  in  matters  of  detail,  and  even  in  the  names  which  are  selected 
to  compose  it. 

He  has  considered  himself  at  liberty  to  include  in  the  Series  such 
saints  as  have  been  born  in  England,  though  they  have  lived  and 
laboured  out  of  it ;  and  such,  again,  as  have  been  in  any  sufficient 
way  connected  with  our  country,  though  born  out  of  it ;  for  instance, 
Missionaries  or  Preachers  in  it,  or  spiritual  or  temporal  rulers,  or 
founders  of  religious  institutions  or  houses. 

He  has  also  included  in  the  Series  a  few  eminent  or  holy  persons, 
who,  though  not  in  the  Sacred  Catalogue,  are  recommended  to  our 
religious  memory  by  their  fame,  learning,  or  the  benefits  they  have 
conferred  on  posterity.  These  have  been  distinguished  from  the 
Saints  by  printing  their  names  in  italics. 

It  is  proposed  to  page  all  the  longer  Lives  separately  ;  the  shorter 
will  be  thrown  together  in  one.  They  will  be  published  in  monthly 
issues  of  not  more  than  128  pages  each  ;  and  no  regularity,  whether 
of  date  or  of  subject,  will  be  observed  in  the  order  of  publication. 
But  they  will  be  so  numbered  as  to  admit  ultimately  of  a  general 
chronological  arrangement. 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4. 


505 


The  separate  writers  are  distinguished  by  letters  subjoined  to  each 
Life :  and  it  should  be  added,  to  prevent  misapprehension,  that, 
since  under  the  present  circumstances  of  our  Church,  they  are 
necessarily  of  various,  though  not  divergent,  doctrinal  opinions,  no 
one  is  answerable  for  any  composition  but  his  own.  At  the  same 
time,  the  work  professing  an  historical  and  ethical  character, 
questions  of  theology  will  be,  as  far  as  possible,  thrown  into  the 
back  ground. 

J.  H.  N. 
Littlemore,  Sept.  9,  1843. 


CALENDAR  OF  ENGLISH  SAINTS. 


1  Elvan,  B.  and  Medwyne,  C. 

£  -Ui-DJCVU/vniX. 

1 

2  Martyrs  of  Lichfield. 

2  Laurence,  Archb. 

3  Melorus,  M. 

3  Wereburga,  V. 

4 

4  Gilbert,  A.    Liephard,  B.M. 

5  Edward,  K.C. 

5 

6  Peter,  A. 

6  Ina,  K.  Mo. 

7  Cedd,  B. 

7  Augulus,  B.M.    Richard,  K. 

8  Pega,  V.    Wulsin,  B. 

8  Elfleda,  A.    Cuthman,  C. 

9  Adrian,  A.    Bertwald,  Archb. 

9  Theliau,  B. 

10  Sethrida,  V. 

10  Trumwin,  B. 

11  Eg  win,  B. 

11 

12  Benedict  Biscop,  A.    Aelred,  A. 

12  Ethel  wold,  B.   of  Liiidisfarne. 

13  Kentigern,  B. 

Cedmon,  Mo. 

14  Beuno,  A. 

13  Ermenilda,  Q.A. 

15  Ceolulph,  K.  Mo. 

14 

16  Henry,  Hermit.    Fursey,  A. 

15  Sigefride,  B. 

17  Mildwida,  V. 

16  Finan,  B. 

18  Ulfrid  or  Wolf  rid,  M. 

17 

19  Wulstan,  B.    Henry,  B. 

18 

20 

19 

21 

20  Ulric,  H. 

22  Brithwold,  B. 

21 

23  Boisil,  A. 

22 

24  Cadoc,  A. 

23  Milburga,  V. 

25 

24  Luidhard,    B.      Ethelbert    of 

26  Theoritgida,  V. 

Kent,  K. 

27  Bathildis,  Queen. 

25  Walburga,  V.A. 

28 

26 

29  Gildas,  A. 

27  Alnoth,  H.M. 

30 

28  Oswald,  B. 

31  Adamnan,  Mo.    Serapion.  M. 

29 

506 


NOTE  D. 


MARCH. 

14  Richard  of  Bury,  B. 

1  David,  Archb.    Swibert,  B. 

15  Paternus,  B. 
16 

2  Chad,B.  Willeik,C.  Joavan,B. 
3  Winwaloe,  A. 

17  Stephen,  A. 
18 

4  Owin,  Mo. 

A  O 

19  Elphege,  Archb. 

5 
6  Kineburga,  &c  ,and  Tibba,  VV. 
Balther,  C.  and  Bilfrid,  H. 

20  Adelhare,  M.    Cedwalla,  K. 
21  Anselm,  Archb.  Doctor. 

00 

7  Easterwin,  A.    William,  Friar. 
8  Felix,  B. 

fd£t 

23  George,  M. 
24  Mellitus,    Archb.      Wilfrid, 

9  Bosa,  B. 
10 

Archb.     Egbert,  C. 
25 

11 

12  Elphege,    B.      Paul   de   Leon, 

26 

27 

B.C. 

28 

13 
14  Robert,  H. 
15  Eadgith,  A. 
16 

29  Wilfrid  II.  Archb. 
30  Erconwald,  B.    Suibert,  B. 
Maud,  Q. 

17  Withburga,  V. 

18  Edward,  K.M. 

MAY. 

19  Alcmund,  M. 
20  Cuthbert,  B.    Herbert,  B. 

91 

1  Asaph,  B.     Ultan,  A.     Brioc, 
B.C. 

Zi 

22 

2  Germanus,  M. 

23  ^delwald,  H. 

. 
4" 

24  Hildelitha,  A. 
25  Alfwold  of  Sherborne,  B.  and 
William,  M. 
26 

27 

5  Ethelred,  K.  Mo. 
6  Eadbert,  A. 
7  John,  Archb.  of  Beverley. 
8 

28 
29  Gundleus,  H. 
30  Merwcnna,  A. 
31 

10 

11  Fremund,  M. 
12 
13 

14 

APRIL. 

16 

1 

16  Simon  Stock,  H. 

2 

17 

3  Richard,  B. 

18  Elgiva,  Q. 

4 

19  Dunstan,  Archb.    B.  Alcuin,  A. 

5 

20  Ethelbert,  K.M. 

6 

21   Godric,  H. 

7 

22  Winewald,   A.      Berethun.    A. 

8 

Henry,  K. 

9  Frithstan,  B. 

23 

10 

24  Ethelburga,  Q. 

11  Guthlake,  H. 

25  Aldhelm,  B. 

12 
13  Caradoc,  H. 

26  Augustine,  Archb. 
27  Bede,  D.  Mo. 

SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4. 


507 


28  Lanfranc,  Archbi 

10 

29 

11 

30  Walston,  C. 

12 

31  Jurmin,  C. 

13  Mildreda,  V.A. 

JUNE. 

14  Marchelm,C.   Boniface,  Archb. 
15  Deusdedit,  Archb.     Plechelm, 

1  Wistan,  K.M. 
2 

B.     David,  A.  and  Editha  of 
Tamworth,  Q.V. 

3 

16  Helier,  H.M. 

4  Petroc,  A. 
5  Boniface,  Archb.  M. 
6  Gudwall,  B. 

17  Kenelm,  K.M. 
18  Edburga  and  Edgitha  of  Ayles- 
bury,  VV.    Frederic,  B.M. 

7  Robert,  A. 

19 

8  William,  Archb. 
q 

20 
21 

*7 

10  Ivo,  B.  and  Ithamar,  B. 

22 
23 

12  Eskill,  B.M. 
13 

24  Wulfud  and  Ruffin,  MM.    Lew- 
inna,  V.M. 

14  Elerius,  A. 

25 

f\n 

15  Edburga,  V. 
16 

2o 

27  Hugh,  M. 

17  Botulph,  A.    John,  Fr. 
18 

28  Sampson,  B. 
29  Lupus,  B. 

19 

30  Tatwin,   Archb.   and   Ermcni- 

20  Idaberga,  V. 
21  Egelmund,  A. 

githa,  V. 
31  Germanus,  B.  and  Ncot,  H. 

22  Alban,  and  Amphibolus,  MM. 

23  Ethelreda,  V.A. 

24  Bartholomew,  H. 

AUGUST. 

25  Adelbert,  C. 
26 

1  Ethelwold,  B.  of  Winton. 

27  John,  C.  of  Moutier. 

28 

2  Etheldritha,  V. 
3  Walthen,  A. 

29  Margaret,    Countess    of    Rich- 
wond 

4 
5  Oswald,  K.M.    Thomas,  Mo.  M. 

30 

of  Dover. 
6 

JULY. 

7 

8  Colman,  B. 

1  Julius,  Aaron,  MM.     Rumold, 

9 

B.    Leonoras,  B. 

10 

2  Oudoceus,  B.    Swithun,  B. 
3  Gunthiern,  A. 

LI   William  of  Waynfleet,  fi. 

4  Odo,  Archb. 
5  Mo4wenna,  V.A. 

13  Wigbert,  A.    Walter,  A. 
14  Werenfrid,  C. 

6  Sexburga,  A. 

15 

7  Edelburga,   V.A.     Hedda,    B. 

16 

Willibald,  B.  Ercongota,  V. 

17 

8  Grimbald,  and  Edgar,  K. 
9  Stephen  Langton,  Archb. 

18  Helen,  Empress. 
19 

508 


NOTE  D. 


20  Oswin,  K.M. 

21  Richard,  B.  of  Andria. 

22  Sigfrid,  A. 

23  Ebba,  V.A. 
24 

25  Ebba,  V.A.M. 

26  Bregwin,  Archb.   Bradwardine, 

Archb. 

27  Sturmius,  A. 
28 

29  Sebbus,  K. 
30 

31  Eanswida,  V.A.     Aidan,  A.B. 
Cuthburga,  Q.V. 


I 
2 

3 

4 
5 

6 

7 
8 
9 

10 
11 
12 
i:j 
14 
15 
16 

17 
18 
19 
20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
26 
27 
28 
29 
30 


SEPTEMBER. 

William,  B.  of  Roschid.     Wil 
liam,  Fr. 


Bega,  A. 

Alcmund,  A.     Tilhbert,  A. 

Bertelin,  H.    Wulfhilda  or  Vul- 

fridis,  A. 
Otger,  C. 

',rt  Kilwardby,  Archb. 


Richard  Fox,  B. 

Ninian,  B.    Edith,  daughter  of 

Edgar,  V. 
Socrates  and  Stephen,  MM. 

Theodore,  Archb. 

Hereswide,  Q.    Edward  II.  K. 


Ceolfrid  ,A. 

William  of  Wykeham,  B. 
Lioba,  V.A. 

B.  Richard  of  Hampole,  H. 
Honorius,  Archb. 


1  Roger,  B. 

2  Thomas  of  Hereford,  B. 

3  Ewalds  (two)  MM. 

5  Walter  Stapleton,  B. 

6  Ywy,  C. 

7  Ositha,  Q.V.M. 

8  Ceneu,  V. 

9  Lina,  V.  and  Robert  Grostete,  B. 

10  Paulinus,  Archb.    John,  C.  of 

Bridlington. 

11  Edilburga,  V.A. 

12  Edwin,  K. 
13 

14  Burchard,  B. 

15  Tecla,  V.A. 

16  Lullus,  Archb. 

17  Ethelred,  Ethelbright,  MM. 

18  Walter  de  Merton,  B. 

19  Frideswide,  V.  and  Ethbin,  A. 
20 

21  Ursula,  V.M. 

22  Mello,  B.C. 
23 

24  Magloire,  B. 

25  John  of  Salisbury,  B. 

26  Eata,  B. 

27  Witta,  B. 

28  B.  Alfred. 

29  Sigebert,  K.    Elfreda,  A. 
30 

31  Foillan,  B.M. 


NOVEMBER. 
1 

2 

3  Wenefred,  V.M.    Rumwald, 

4  Brinstan,  B.    Clarus,  M. 

5  Cungar,  H. 

6  Iltut,  A.  and  Winoc,  A. 

7  WUlebrord,  B. 

8  Willehad,  B.    Tyssilio,  B. 
9 

10  Justus,  Archb. 
11 

12  Lebwin,  C. 

13  Eadburga  of  Menstrey,  A. 

14  Dubricius,  B.C. 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4. 


509 


J5 

10 
17 
18 
19 
20 


Malo,  B. 
Edmund,  B. 
Hilda,  A.    Hugh,  B. 

Ermenburga,  Q. 
Edmund,  K.M.  Humbert,  B.M. 
Acca,  B. 


Paulinas,  A. 
Daniel,  B.C. 


21 

22 

23 

24 

25 

26 

27 

28  Edwold,  M. 

29 

30 


DECEMBER. 


2  Weede,  V. 

3  Birinus,   B.     Lucius,   K.    and 

Sola,  H. 

4  Osmund,  B. 

5  Christina,  V. 
6 

N.B.  81.  William,  Austin-Friar,  Ingulphus,  and  Peter  of  Blots  have  not 
been  introduced  into  the  above  Calendar,  their  days  of  death  or  festival 
not  being  as  yet  ascertained. 


7 
8 
9 

10 
11 
12 
13 
14 
15 
16 
17 
18 
19 
20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
26 
27 
28 
29 
30 
31 


John  Peckham,  Arclib. 


Elfleda,  A. 

Corentin,  B.C. 

Ethelburga,  Q.  wife  of  Edwin. 


Winebald,  A. 
Eadburga,  V.A. 


Tathai,  C. 
Gerald,  A.B. 

Thomas,  Archb.  M. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ARRANGEMENT. 


SECOND  CENTURY. 
182     Dec.  3.  Lucius,  K.  of  the  British. 

Jan.  1.  Elvan,  B.  and  Medwyne,  C.  envoys  from  St.  Lucius 

to  Rome. 

FOURTH  CENTURY. 
300     Oct.  22.  Mello,  B.  C.  of  Rouen. 

303  Ap.  23.  George,  M.  under  Dioclesian.    Patron  of  England. 

—  June  22.  Alban  and  Amphibalus,  MM. 

—  July  1.  Julius  and  Aaron,  MM.  of  Caerleon. 

304  Jan.  2.  Martyrs  of  Lichfield. 

—  Feb.  7.  Augulus,  B.M.  of  London. 

328    Aug.  18.  Helen,  Empress,  mother  of  Constantine. 

388     Sept.  17.  Socrates  and  Stephen,  MM.  perhaps  in  Wales. 

411     Jan.  3.  Meloms,  M.  in  Cornwall. 


510 


NOTE  D. 


FIFTH  CENTURY. 

432     Sept.  16.  Ninian,  B.    Apostle  of  the  Southern  Plots* 

429    July  31.  Germanus,  B.  C.  of  Auxerre. 

July  29.  Lupus,  B.  C.  of  Troyes. 

502    May  1.  Brioc,  B.  C.,  disciple  of  St.  Germanus. 

490     Oct.  8.  Ceneu,  or  Keyna,  V.,  sister-in-law  of  Gundleus. 

492    Mar.  29.  Gundleus,  Hermit,  hi  Wales. 

July  3.  Gunthiern,  A.,  in  Brittany. 

453     Oct.  21.  Ursula,  V.M.  near  Cologne, 

bef.  500     Dec.  12.  Corentin,  B.C.  of  Quimper. 


FIFTH  AND  SIXTH  CENTURIES. 

WELSH  SCHOOLS. 

444-522    Nov.  14.    Dubricius,  B.C.,  first  Bishop  of  Llandaff. 
520    Nov.  22.  Paulinus,  A.  of  Whitland,  tutor  of  St.  David  and 

St.  Theliau. 
445-544    Mar.  1.      David,  Archb.  of  Menevia,  afterwards  called  from 

him. 

abt.  500    Dec.  26.     Tathai,  C.,  master  of  St.  Cadoc. 
480     Jan.  24.  Cadoc,  A.,  son  of  St.  Gundleus,  and  nephew  of  St. 

Keyna. 

abt.  513     Nov.  6.      Iltut,  A.,  converted  by  St.  Cadoc. 
545    Nov.  23.  Daniel,  B.C.,  first  Bishop  of  Bangor. 

aft.  559     Apr.  18.      Paternus,  B.A.,  pupil  of  St.  Iltut. 
573    Mar.  12.  Paul,  B.C.  of  Leon,  pupil  of  St.  Iltut. 

Mar.  2.  loavan,  B.,  pupil  of  St.  Paul. 

599    July  28.  SAMPSON,  B.,  pupil  of  St.  Iltut,  cousin  of  St.  Paul 

de  Leon. 

565     Nov.  15.  Malo,  B.,  cousin  of  St.  Sampson. 

575     Oct.  24.  Magloire,  B.,  cousin  of  St.  Malo. 

583    Jan.  29.  Gildas,  A.,  pupil  of  St.  Iltut. 

July  1.  Leonorus,  B.,  pupil  of  St.  Iltut. 

604    Feb.  9.  Theliau,  B.  of  Llandaff,  pupil  of  St.  Dubricius. 

560     July  2.  Oudoceus,  B.,  nephew  to  St.  Theliau. 

500-580     Oct.  19.     Ethbin,  A.,  pupil  of  St.  Sampson. 
516-601     Jan.  13.     Kentigern,  B.  of  Glasgow,  founder  of  Monastery  of 

Elwy. 


SIXTH  CENTURY. 

529    Mar.  3.  Winwaloe,  A.,  in  Brittany. 

564    June  4.  Petroc.,  A.,  in  Cornwall. 

July  16.  Helier,  Hermit,  M.,  hi  Jersey. 

June  27.  John,  C.  of  Moutier,  in  Tours. 

590    May  1.  Asaph,  B.  of  Elwy,  afterwards  called  after  him. 

abt.  600    June  6.  Gudwall,  B.  of  Aleth  in  Brittany. 

Nov.  8.  Tyssilio,  B.  of  St.  Asaph. 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4. 


511 


600  June  10. 

596  Feb.  24. 

616  Feb.  24. 

608  May  26. 


624 
619 
608 
627 
653 
662 


Apr.  24. 
Feb.  2. 
Jan.  6. 
Nov.  10. 
Sept.  30. 
July  15. 


642  Oct.  29. 

646  Mar.  8. 

650  Jan.  16. 

680  May  1. 

655  Oct.  31. 

680  June  17. 

671  June  10. 

650  Dec.  3. 

705  July  7. 

717  Jan. 11. 


SEVENTH  CENTURY. 

PART  I. 

Ivo,  or  Ivia,  B.  from  Persia. 
Luidhard,  B.  of  Senlis,  in  France. 
Ethelbert,  K.  of  Kent. 
Augustine,    Archb.    of    Canterbury,    Apostle    of 

England. 

Mellitus,  Archb.  of  Canterbury,     \ 
Laurence,  Archb.  of  Canterbury, 
Peter,  A.  at  Canterbury, 
Justus,  Archb.  of  Canterbury, 
Honorius,  Archb.  of  Canterbury,  / 
Deus-dedit,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 


Companions  of 
St.  Augustine. 


SEVENTH  CENTURY. 

PABT  II. 

Sigebert,  K.  of  the  East  Angles. 
Felix,  B.  of  Dunwich,  Apostle  of  the  East  Angles. 
Fursey,  A.,  preacher  among  the  East  Angles. 
Ultan,  A.,  brother  of  St.  Fursey. 
Foillan,  #.M.,  brother  of  St.  Fursey,  preacher  in  the 

Netherlands. 

Botulph,  A.,  in  Lincolnshire  or  Sussex. 
Ithamar,  B.  of  Rochester. 
Birinus,  B.  of  Dorchester. 
Hedda,  B.  of  Dorchester. 
Egwin,  B.  of  Worcester. 


690     Sept.  19. 
709     Jan.  9. 
709     May  25. 


630  Nov.  3. 

642  Feb.  4. 

660  Jan.  14. 

673  Oct.  7. 

630  June  14. 

680  Jan.  27. 

687  July  24. 

700  July  18. 


SEVENTH  CENTURY. 

PART  III. 

Theodore,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 
Adrian,  A.  in  Canterbury. 
Aldhelm,  B.  of  Sherborne,  pupil  of  St.  Adrian. 

SEVENTH  CENTURY. 

PART  IV. 

Winefred,  V.M.  in  Wales. 
Liephard,  M.B.,  slain  near  Cambray. 
Beuno,  A.,  kinsman  of  St.  Cadocus  and  St.  Kenti- 

gern. 
Osgitha,  Q.V.M.,  in  East  Anglia  during  a  Danish 

inroad. 

Elerius,  A.  in  Wales. 

Bathildis,  Q.,  wife  of  Clovis  II.,  king  of  France. 
Lewinna,  V.M.,  put  to  death  by  the  Saxons. 
Edberga  and  Edgitha,  VV.  of  Aylesbury. 


512 


NOTE  D. 


SEVENTH  CENTURY. 

PART  V. 
644     Oct.  10.  Paulinus,    Archb.    of    York,    companion    of    St. 

Augustine. 

Edwin,  K.  of  Northumberland. 
Ethelburga,  Q.,  wife  to  St.  Edwin. 
Oswald,  K.M.,  St.  Edwin's  nephew. 
Oswin,  K.M.,  cousin  to  St.  Oswald. 
Ebba,  V.A.  of  Coldingham,  half-sister  to  St.  Oswin. 
Adamnan,  Mo.  of  Coldingham. 

SEVENTH  CENTURY. 

PART  VI.— WHITBY. 

Bega,  V. A.,  foundress  of  St.  Bee's,  called  after  her. 
Hilda,  A.   of  Whitby,   daughter  of  St.  Edwin's 

nephew. 

716     Dec.  11.  Elfleda,  A.  of  Whitby,  daughter  of  St.  Oswin. 

680    Feb.  12.  Cedmon,  Mo.  of  Whitby. 


633 

642 
651 
683 
689 


650 

681 


Oct.  12. 
Dec.  13. 
Aug.  5. 
Aug.  20. 
Aug.  23. 
Jan.  31. 


Sept.  6. 
Nov.  17. 


SEVENTH  AND  EIGHTH  CENTURIES. 


Sept.  21. 
654     Jan.  10. 
693     Apr.  30. 

677     Aug.  29. 
May  31. 
650    July  7. 

679    June  23. 
Mar.  17. 

699     July  6. 
660    July  7. 

699    Feb.  13. 
aft.  675    Feb.  3. 

abt,  680     Feb.  27. 
640    Aug.  31. 

668     Oct.  17. 


PART  I. 
Hereswida,  Q.,  sister  of  Hilda,  wife  of  Annas,  who 

succeeded  Egric,  Sigebert's  cousin. 
Sethrida,  V.A.  of  Faremoutier,  St.  Hereswida' s 

daughter  by  a  former  marriage. 
Erconwald,  A.B.,  son  of  Annas  and  St.  Hereswida, 

Bishop  of  London,  Abbot  of  Chertsey,  founder  of 

Barking. 

Sebbus,  K.,  converted  by  St.  Erconwald. 
Jurmin,  C.,  son  of  Annas  and  St.  Hereswida. 
Edelburga,  V.A.  of  Faremoutier,  natural  daughter 

of  Annas. 
Ethelreda,    Etheldreda,  Etheltrudis,    or   Awdry, 

V.A.,  daughter  of  Annas  and  St.  Hereswida. 
Withburga,  V.,  daughter  of  Annas  and  St.  Heres 
wida. 

Sexburga,  A.,  daughter  of  Annas  and  St.  Hereswida. 
Ercongota,  or  Ertongata,  V.A.   of  Faremoutier, 

daughter  of  St.  Sexburga. 
Ermenilda,  Q.A.,  daughter  of  St.  Sexburga,  wife  of 

Wulfere. 
Wereburga,  V.,  daughter  of  St.  Ermenilda  and 

Wulfere.  patron  of  Chester. 
Alnoth,  H.'M..  bailiff  to  St.  Wereburga. 
Eanswida,    V.A.,   sister-in-law   of   St.   Sexburga, 

grand-daughter  to  St.  Ethelbert. 
Ethelred  and  Ethelbright,  MM.,  nephews  of  St. 

Eanswida. 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4.  513 

July  30.  Ermenigitha,  V.,  niece  of  St.  Eanswida. 

676     Oct.  11.  Edilberga,  V.A.  of  Barking,  daughter  of  Annas  and 

St.  Hereswida. 

678     Jan.  26.  Theoritgida,  V.,  nun  of  Barking, 

aft.  713     Aug.  31.  Cuthberga.  Q.V.,  of  Barking,  sister  of  St.  Ina. 

700     Mar.  24.  Hildelitha,  A.  of  Barking. 

728     Feb.  6.  Ina,  K.  Mo.  of  the  West  Saxons. 

740     May  24.  Ethelburga,  Q.,  wife  of  St.  Ina,  nun  at  Barking. 

SEVENTH  AND  EIGHTH  CENTURIES. 

PART  II. 
652     June  20.  Idaburga,  V. 


696    Mar.  6.  Kineburga,  Q.A. 

701     Kinneswitha,  V. 


Chidestre,  V. 


Daughters  of  King  Penda. 


692  Dec.  2.  Weeda,  V.A. 

696     Mar.  6.  Tibba,  V.,  their  kinswoman. 

Nov.  3.  Rumwald,  C.,  grandson  of  Penda. 

680     Nov.  19.  Ermenburga,  Q.,  mother  to  the  three  following. 

Feb.  23.  Milburga,  V.A.  of  Wenlock,    ^   r       ,  J011^fo7.0  rtf 

July  13.  Mildreda,  V.A.  of  Menstrey,  t  Grand-daughters  of 

676    Jan.  17  Milwida,  or  Milgitha,  V.  nda" 

750  Nov.  13.  Eadburga,  A.  of  Menstrey. 

SEVENTH  AND  EIGHTH  CENTURIES. 

PABT  III. 
670    July  24.  Wulfad  and  Ruffin,  MM.,  sons  of  Wulfere,  Penda' s 

son,  and  of  St.  Erminilda. 
672    Mar.  2.  Chad,  B.  of  Lichfield. 

664    Jan.  7.  Cedd,  B.  of  London. 

688  Mar.  4  Owin,  Mo.  of  Lichfield. 

689  Apr.  20.  Cedwalla,  K.  of  West  Saxons. 
690-725    Nov.  5.      Cungar,  H.  in  Somersetshire. 
700     Feb.  10.  Trumwin,  B.  of  the  Picts. 
705    Mar.  9.  Bosa,  Archb.  of  York. 

709    Apr.  24.  Wilfrid,  Archb.  of  York. 

721     May  7.  John  of  Beverley,  Archb.  of  York. 

743    Apr.  29.  Wilfrid  II.,  Archb.  of  York. 

733     May  22.  Berethun,  A.  of  Deirwood,  disciple  of  St.  John  of 

Beverley. 

751  May  22.  Winewald,  A.  of  Deirwood. 

SEVENTH  AND  EIGHTH  CENTURIES. 

PART  IV. — MISSIONS. 
729    Apr.  24.  Egbert,  C.,  master  to  Willebrord. 

693  Oct.  3.  Ewalds  (two),  MM.  in  Westphalia. 

690-736    Nov.  7.      Willebrord,  B.  of  Utrecht,  Apostle  of  Friesland. 
717    Mar.  1.  Swibert,  B.,  Apostle  of  Westphalia. 

APOLOGIA 


514 


NOTE  D. 


727     Mar.  2.  Willeik,  C.,  successor  to  St.  Swibert. 

705    June  25.  Adelbert,  C.,  grandson  of  St.  Oswald,  preacher  in 

Holland. 

705     Aug.  14.  Werenfrid,  C.,  preacher  in  Friesland. 

720     June  21.  Engelmund,  A.,  preacher  in  Holland. 

730     Sept.  10.  Otger,  C.  in  Low  Countries. 

732     July  15.  Plechelm,  B.,  preacher  in  Guelderland. 

750     May  2.  Germanus,  B.M.  in  the  Netherlands. 

760    Nov.  12.  Lebwin,  C.  in  Overyssel,  in  Holland.      ^ 

760     July  14.  Marchelm,  C.,  companion  of  St.  Lebwin,  in  Holland. 

697-755    June  5.      Boniface,  Archb.,  M.  of  Mentz,  Apostle  of  Germany. 
712     Feb.  7.  Richard,  K.  of  the  West  Saxons. 

704-790    July  7.       Willibald,  B.  of  Aich-      \ 

stadt,  in  Franconia,         «,.,, 
730-760    Dec.  18.     Winebald,  A.  of  Hei-          CMdren 

denheim,  in  Suabia,      f     91;  bt}- 

779  Feb.  25.  Walburga,  V.A.  of 

Heidenheim, 

aft.  755     Sept.  28.    Lioba,  V.A.  of  Bischorsheim, 
750     Oct.  15.  Tecla,  V.A.  of  Kitzingen,  in  Fran 

conia, 

788     Oct.  16.  Lullus,  Archb.  of  Mentz,  Companions 

abt.  747     Aug.  13.    Wigbert,  A.  of  Fritzlar  and  Ort-    \       of  gfc> 

clorf .  in  Germany,  Boniface. 

755     Apr.  20.  Adelhare,  B.M.  of  Erford,  in  Fran 

conia, 

780  Aug.  27.  Sturmius,  A.  of  Fulda, 

786     Oct.  27.  Witta,  or  Albuinus,  B.   of  Bura- 

berg,  in  Germany, 

791     Nov.  8.  Willehad,     B.    of     Bremen,    and 

Apostle  of  Saxony, 

791     Oct.  14.  Burchard,   B.   of    Wurtzburg,   in 

Franconia, 

790     Dec.  3.  Sola,  H.,  near  Aichstadt,  in  Fran 

conia, 

775     July  1.  Rumold,  B.,  Patron  of  Mechlin. 

807     Apr.  30.  Suibert,  B.  of  Verden  in  Westphalia. 

SEVENTH  AND  EIGHTH  CENTURIES. 

PART  V. — LINDISFARNE  AND  HEXHAM. 
670     Jan.  23.  Boisil,  A.  of  Melros,  in  Scotland. 

651     Aug.  31.  Aidan,  A.B.  of  Lindisfarne. 

664     Feb.  16.  Finan,  B.  of  Lindisfarne. 

676     Aug.  8.  Colman,  B.  of  Lindisfarne. 

685     Oct.  26.  Eata,  B.  of  Hexham. 

687     Mar.  20.  Cuthbert,  B.  of  Lindisfarne. 

Oct.  6.  Ywy,  C.  disciple  of  St.  Cuthbert. 

690     Mar.  20.  Herbert,  H.  disciple  of  St.  Cuthbert. 

698     May  6.  Eadbert,  B.  of  Lindisfarne. 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4.  515 

700     Mar.  23.  ^Edelwald,  H.  successor  of  St.  Cuthbert,  in  his 

hermitage. 

740     Feb.  12.  Ethelwold,  B.  of  Lindisfarne. 

740     Nov.  20.  Acca,  B.  of  Hexham. 

764     Jan.  15.  Ceolulph,  K.  Mo.  of  Lindisfarne. 

756     Mar.  6.  Balther,  H.  at  Lindisfarne. 

,,  Bilfrid,  H.  Goldsmith  at  Lindisfarne. 

781     Sept.  7.  Alchmund,  B.  of  Hexham. 

789     Sept.  7.  Tilhbert,  B.  of  Hexham. 

SEVENTH  AND  EIGHTH  CENTURIES. 

PART  VI. — WEARMOUTH  AND  YARROW. 
703     Jan.  12.  Benedict  Biscop,  A.  of  Wearmouth. 

685     Mar.  7.  Easterwin,  A.  of  Wearmouth. 

689     Aug.  22.  Sigfrid,  A.  of  Wearmouth. 

716  Sept.  25.  Ceofrid,  A.  of  Yarrow. 

734     May  27.  Bede,  Doctor,  Mo.  of  Yarrow. 

804    May  19.  B.  Alcuin,  A.  in  France. 

EIGHTH  CENTURY. 

710  May  5.  Ethelred,  K.  Mo.  King  of  Mercia,  Monk  of  Bardney. 

719  Jan.  8.  Pega,  V.,  sister  of  St.  Guthlake. 

714  Apr.  11.  Guthlake,  H.  of  Croyland. 

717  Nov.  6.  Winoc,  A.  in  Brittany. 

730     Jan.  9.  Bertwald,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

732     Dec.  27.  Gerald,  A.B.  in  Mayo. 

734     July  30.  Tatwin,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

750     Oct.  19.  Frideswide,  V.  patron  of  Oxford. 

762     Aug.  26.  Bregwin,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

700-800     Feb.  8.       Cuthman,  C.  of  Stening  in  Sussex. 

bef.  800     Sept.  9.      Bertelin,  H.  patron  of  Stafford. 

EIGHTH  AND  NINTH  CENTURIES. 

793  May  20.  Ethelbert,  K.M.  of  the  East  Angles. 

834  Aug.  2.  Etheldritha,  or  Alfreda,V.,  daughter  of  Offa,  king  of 

Mercia,  nun  at  Croyland. 

819  July  17.  Kenelm,  K.M.  of  Mercia. 

849  June  1.  Wistan,  K.M.  of  Mercia. 

838  July  18.  Frederic,  Archb.  M.  of  Utrecht. 

894  Nov.  4.  Clarus,  M.  in  Normandy. 

NINTH  CENTURY. 

PART  I. — DANISH  SLAUGHTERS,  &c. 

819     Mar.  19.  Alcmund,  M.,  son  of  Eldred,  king  of  Northumbria, 

Patron  of  Derby. 

870     Nov.  20.  Edmund,  K.M.  of  the  East  Angles. 

862     May  11.  Fremund,  H.  M.  nobleman  of  East  Anglia. 

870     Nov.  20.  Humbert,  B.M.  of  Elmon  in  East  Anglia. 

867'   Aug.  25.  Ebba,  V.A.M.  of  Coldingham. 

S  2 


516  NOTE  D. 

NINTH  CENTURY. 
PART  II. 

862    July  2.  Swithun,  B.  of  Winton. 

870  July  5.  Modwenna,  V.A.  of  Pollesworth  in  Warwickshire. 
Oct.  9.  Lina,  V.  nun  at  Pollesworth. 

871  Mar.  15.  Eadgith,    V.A.    of    Pollesworth,    sister    of    King 

Ethelwolf. 
900  Dec.  21.  Eadburga,  V.A.  of  Winton,  daughter  of  King 

Ethelwolf. 
880  Nov.  28.  Edwold,  H.,  brother  of  St.  Edmund. 


NINTH  AND  TENTH  CENTURIES. 

883  July  31.  Neot,  H.  in  Cornwall. 

903  July  8.  Grimbald,  A.  at  Winton. 

900  Oct.  28.  B.  Alfred,  K. 

929  Apr.  9.  Frithstan,  B.  of  Winton. 

934  Nov.  4.  Brinstan,  B.  of  Winton. 


TENTH  CENTURY. 
PART  I. 

960     June  15.  Edburga,  V.,  nun  at  Winton,  granddaughter  of 

Alfred. 

926     July  15.  Editha,  Q.V.,  nun  of  Tamworth,  sister  to  Edburga. 

921     May  18.  Algyfa,  or  Elgiva,  Q.,  mother  of  Edgar. 

975    July  8.  Edgar,  K. 

978     Mar.  18.  Edward,  K.M.  at  Corfe  Castle. 

984     Sept.  16.  Edith,  V.,  daughter  of  St.  Edgar  and  St.  Wulfhilda. 

990     Sept.  9.  Wulfhilda,  or  Vulfrida,  A.  of  Wilton. 

980     Mar.  30.  Merwenna,  V.A.  of  Romsey. 

990     Oct.  29.  Elfreda,  A.  of  Romsey. 

1016     Dec.  5.  Christina  of  Romsey,  V.,  sister  of  St.  Margaret  of 

Scotland. 


TENTH  CENTURY. 
PART  II. 

961     July  4.  Odo,  Archb.  of  Canterbury,  Benedictine  Monk. 

960-992    Feb.  28.     Oswald,  Archb.  of  York,  B.  of  Worcester,  nephew 

to  St.  Odo. 

951-1012     Mar.  12.  Elphege  the  Bald,  B.  of  Winton. 
988     May  19.  Dunstan,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

973     Jan.  8.  Wulsin,  B.  of  Sherbourne. 

984     Aug.  1.  Ethelwold,  B.  of  Winton. 

1015     Jan.  22.  Brithwold,  B.  of  Winton.  • 


SERIES  OF  SAINTS'  LIVES  OF  1843-4 
TENTH  AND  ELEVENTH  CENTURIES. 


517 


MISSIONS. 

950    Feb.  15.  Sigfride,  B.,  apostle  of  Sweden. 

1016    June  12.  Eskill,  B.M.  in  Sweden,  kinsman  of  St.  Sigfride. 

1028    Jan.  18.  Wolfred,  M.  in  Sweden. 

1050    July  15.  David,  A.,  Cluniac  in  Sweden. 

ELEVENTH  CENTURY. 

1012  Apr.  19.  Elphege,  M.  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

1016  May.  30.  Walston,  C.  near  Norwich. 

1053  Mar.  25.  Alfwold,  B.  of  Sherborne, 

1067  Sept.  2.  William,  B.  of  Roschid  in  Denmark. 

1066  Jan.  5.  Edward,  K.C. 

1099  Dec.  4.  Osmund,  B.  of  Salisbury. 


ELEVENTH  AND  TWELFTH  CENTURIES. 
1095     Jan.  19.  Wulstan,  B.  of  Worcester. 

1089     May  28.  Lanfranc,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

1109     Apr.  21.  Anselm,  Doctor,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

1170     Dec.  29.  Thomas,  Archb.  M.  of  Canterbury. 

1200     Nov.  17.  Hugh,  B.  of  Lincoln,  Carthusian  Monk. 

TWELFTH  CENTURY. 

PART  I. 

1109  Ingulphus,  A.  of  Croyland. 

1117  Apr.  30.  B.  M  and,  Q.  Wife  of  Henry  I. 

1124  Apr.  13.  Caradoc,  H.  in  South  Wales. 

1127  Jan.  16.  Henry,  H.  in  Northumberland. 

1144  Mar.  25.  William,  M.  of  Norwich. 

1151  Jan.  19.  Henry,  M.B.  of  Upsal. 

1150  Aug.  13.  Walter,  A.  of  Fontenelle,  in  France. 

1154  June  8.  William,  Archb.  of  York. 

1170  May  21.  Godric,  H.  in  Durham. 

1180  Oct.  25.  John  of  Salisbury,  B.  of  Chartres. 

1182  June  24.  Bartholomew,  C.,  monk  at  Durham. 

1189  Feb.  4.  Gilbert,  A.  of  Sempringham. 

1190  Aug.  21.  Richard,  B.  of  Andria. 

1200  Peter  de  Blois,  Archd.  of  Bath. 

TWELFTH  CENTURY. 
PART  II. — CISTERTIAN  ORDER. 
1134     Apr.  17.  Stephen,  A.  of  Citeaux. 

1139     June  7.  Robert,  A.  of  Newminster  in  Northumberland. 

1154     Feb.  20.  Ulric,  H.  in  Dorsetshire. 

1160     Aug.  3.  Walthen,  A.  of  Melrose. 

1166    Jan.  12.  Aelred,  A.  of  Rieval. 


518 


NOTE  D. 


THIRTEENTH  CENTURY. 

PART  I. 

1228     July  9.  Stephen  Langton,  Archb.  of  Canterbury, 

1242     Nov.  16.  Edmund,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

1253     Apr.  3.  Richard,  B.  of  Chichester. 

1282     Oct.  2.  Thomas,  B.  of  Hereford. 

1294     Dec.  3.  John  Peckham,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

THIRTEENTH  CENTURY. 
PART  II. — ORDERS  OF  FRIARS. 
1217     June  17.  John,  Fr.,  Trinitarian. 

1232     Mar.  7.  William,  Fr.,  Franciscan. 

1240     Jan.  31.  Serapion,  Fr.,  M.,  Redemptionist. 

1265     May  16.  Simon  Stock,  H.,  General  of  the  Carmelites. 

1279     Sept.  11.  Robert  Kilwardby,  Archb.  of  Canterbury  Fr.  Domi- 


THIRTEENTH  CENTURY. 
PART  III. 

1239  Mar.  14.  Robert  H.  at  Knaresboro'. 

1241  Oct.  1.  Roger,  B.  of  London. 

1255  July  27.  Hugh,  M.  of  Lincoln. 

1295  Aug.  5.  Thomas,  Mo.,  M.  of  Dover. 

1254  Oct.  9.  Robert  Grossteste,  B.  of  Lincoln. 

1270  July  14.  Boniface,  Archb.  of  Canterbury. 

1278  Oct.  18.  Walter  de  Merton,  B.  of  Rochester. 

FOURTEENTH  CENTURY. 

1326  Oct.  5.  Stapleton,  B.  of  Exeter. 

1327  Sept.  21.  Edward  K. 

1349     Sept.  29.  B.  Richard,  H.  of  H ampole. 

1345     Apr.  14.  Richard  of  Bury,  B.  of  Lincoln. 

1349     Aug.  26.  Bradwardine,  Archb.  of  Canterbury,  the  Doctor  Pro- 

fundus. 

1358     Sept.  2.  William,  Fr.,  Servite. 

1379     Oct.  10.  John,  C.  of  Bridlmgton. 

1324-1404  Sept.  27.  William  of  Wykeham,  B.  of  Winton. 

1400  William,  Fr.  Austin. 

FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 
1471     May  22.  Henry,  K.  of  England. 

1486     Aug.  11.  William  of  Wanefleet,  B.  of  Winton. 

1509     June  29.  Margaret,  Countess  of  Richmond. 

1528    Sept.  14.  Richard  Fox,  B.  of  Winton. 

(Notes  E,  F  and  G  (1865)  will  be  found  in  this  book  on  pp.  393,  430, 

and  438  respectively,  in  their  places  as  part  of  the  1864  volume.} 


SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER. 

I. 

LETTERS  AND  PAPERS  OF  THE  AUTHOR  USED  IN  THE  COURSE 
OF   THIS   WORK. 


February  11,1811 
October  26,  1823 
September  7,  1829 
July  20, 1834 

November  28,     „ 
August        18,  1837 


February 

11, 

1840 

» 

21, 

» 

October 

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November 

5> 

March 

15, 

1841 

jj 

20, 

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25, 

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May 

5, 

,, 

June 


18, 


September  12, 
October      12, 


November  11, 
14, 


PAGE 

PAGE 

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December  13,  1841  .  . 

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November  13,  „  . 

.  236 

.  238 

1843  or  1844      .   . 

.  272 

.  236 

January  22,  1844  .  . 

.  316 

.  236 

February  21,  „  .   . 

.  316 

.  240 

April     3,  ,,  . 

.  297 

.  239 

8,  „  .  . 

.  317 

520      LETTERS  AND  PAPERS  OF  THE  AUTHOR,  &c. 


July 

September  16, 
November    7, 

16 
24, 

1844  (?) 
1844  or  1845 
January        ! 
March         30, 


1,  1844  . 
>,  „  .   . 

PAGE 

.  290 
.  318 
.  321 
.  303 
.  319 
.  320 
.  316 
.  263 
.  321 
.  322 

April     3,  18 
16, 
June      1, 
17, 
October    8, 
November  8, 
25, 
January   20,  18 
December  6,  18 

45  . 

16. 
19. 

PAGE 

.   .  323 
.   .  274 
.   .  323 
.   .  274 
.   .  325 
.   .  252 
.   .  326 
.   .  327 
.  279 

t,  „  •  • 

,  1845  .   ' 

>,  „   -   - 

(Sections  II  and  III  of  the  Supplemental  Matter  (1865)  appear  in  this 
look  as  pp.  471-7,  in  their  place  as  part  of  the  1864  volume.) 


SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER.  521 


IV. 


LETTERS   OF  APPROBATION  AND   ENCOURAGEMENT  FROM 
CLERGY   AND    LAITY. 

IT  requires  some  words  of  explanation  why  I  allow  myself 
to  sound  my  own  praises  so  loudly,  as  I  am  doing  by 
adding  to  my  Volume  the  following  Letters,  written  to  me 
last  year  by  large  bodies  of  my  Catholic  brethren,  Priests, 
and  Laymen,  in  the  course  or  on  the  conclusion  of  the 
publication  of  my  Apologia.  I  have  two  reasons  for 
doing  so. 

1.  It  seems  hardly  respectful  to  them,  and  hardly  fair 
to  myself,  to  practise  self  -denial  in  a  matter,  which  after 
all  belongs  to  others  as  well  as  to  me.     Bodies  of  men 
become  authorities  by  the  fact  of  being  bodies,  over  and 
above  the  personal  claims  of  the  individuals  who  constitute 
them.    To  have  received  such  unusual  Testimonials  in  my 
favour,  as  I  have  to  produce,  and  then  to  have  suffered  the 
honours  conferred  on  me,  and  the  generous  feelings  which 
dictated  them,  to  be  wasted,  and  to  come  to  nought,  would 
have  been  a  rudeness  of  which  I  could  not  bear  to  be 
guilty.     Far  be  it  from  me  to  show  such  ingratitude  to 
those  who  were  especially  "  friends  in  need."     I  am  too 
proud  of  their  approbation  not  to  publish  it  to  the  world. 

2.  But  I  have  a  further  reason.     The  belief  obtains 
extensively  in  the  country  at  large,  that  Catholics,  and 
especially  the  Priesthood,  disavow  the  mode  and  form,  in 
which  I  am  accustomed  to  teach  the  Catholic  faith,  as  if 
they  were  not  generally  recognized,  but  something  special 
and  peculiar  to  myself  ;    as  if,  whether  for  the  purposes 
of  controversy,  or  from  the  traditions  of  an  earlier  period 
of  my  life,  I  did  not  exhibit  Catholicism  pure  and  simple, 


522  SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER. 

as  the  bulk  of  its  professors  manifest  it.  Such  testimonials, 
then,  as  now  follow,  from  as  many  as  558  priests,  that  is, 
not  far  from  half  of  the  clergy  of  England,  secular  and 
religious,  from  the  Bishop  and  clergy  of  a  diocese  at  the 
Antipodes,  and  from  so  great  and  authoritative  a  body  as 
the  German  Congress  assembled  last  year  at  Wurzburg, 
scatters  to  the  winds  a  suspicion,  which  is  not  less  painful, 
I  am  persuaded,  to  numbers  of  those  Protestants  who 
entertain  it,  than  it  is  injurious  to  me  who  have  to  bear  it. 


I.     THE   DIOCESE    OF   WESTMINSTER. 

The  following  Address  was  signed  by  110  of  the  West 
minster  clergy,  including  all  the  Canons,  the  Vicars-General, 
a  great  number  of  secular  priests,  and  five  Doctors  in 
theology  ;  Fathers  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  Fathers  of  the 
Order  of  St.  Dominic,  of  St.  Francis,  of  the  Oratory,  of  the 
Passion,  of  Charity,  Oblates  of  St.  Charles,  and  Marists. 

"  London,  March  15,  1864. 

"  Very  Reverend  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  We,  the  undersigned  Priests  of  the  Diocese  of 
Westminster,  tender  to  you  our  respectful  thanks  for  the  service 
you  have  done  to  religion,  as  well  as  to  the  interests  of  literary 
morality,  by  your  Reply  to  the  calumnies  of  [a  ^popular  writer  of 
the  day.] 

"  We  cannot  but  regard  it  as  a  matter  of  congratulation  that  your 
assailant  should  have  associated  the  cause  of  the  Catholic  Priesthood 
with  the  name  of  one  so  well  fitted  to  represent  its  dignity,  and  to 
defend  its  honour,  as  yourself. 

"  We  recognize  in  this  latest  effort  of  your  literary  power  one 
further  claim,  besides  the  many  you  have  already  established,  to 
the  gratitude  and  veneration  of  Catholics,  and  trust  that  the 
reception  which  it  has  met  with  on  all  sides  may  be  the  omen  of 
new  successes  which  you  are  destined  to  achieve  in  the  vindication 
of  the  teaching  and  principles  of  the  Church. 
"  We  are, 

"  Very  Reverend  and  Dear  Sir, 
"  Your  faithful  and  affectionate  Servants  in  Christ." 
(The  Subscriptions  follow.) 

"  To  the  Very  Rev. 

"  John  Henry  Newman,  D.D." 


LETTERS  OF  APPROBATION,  &c.  523 

II. — THE    AC  AD  EMI  A   OF   CATHOLIC   RELIGION. 

"  London,  April  19,  1864. 
"  Very  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  The  Academia  of  Catholic  Religion,  at  their 
meeting  held  to-day,  under  the  Presidency  of  the  Cardinal  Arch 
bishop,  have  instructed  us  to  write  to  you  in  their  behalf. 

"  As  they  have  learned,  with  great  satisfaction,  that  it  is  your 
intention  to  publish  a  defence  of  Catholic  Veracity,  which  has  been 
assailed  in  your  person,  they  are  precluded  from  asking  you  that 
that  defence  might  be  made  by  word  of  mouth,  and  in  London,  as 
they  would  otherwise  have  done. 

"  Composed,  as  the  Academia  is,  mainly  of  Laymen,  they  feel 
that  it  is  not  out  of  their  province  to  express  their  indignation  that 
your  opponent  should  have  chosen,  while  praising  the  Catholic 
Laity,  to  do  so  at  the  expense  of  the  Clergy,  between  whom  and 
themselves,  in  this  as  in  all  other  matters,  there  exists  a  perfect 
identity  of  principle  and  practice. 

"It  is  because,  in  such  a  matter,  your  cause  is  the  cause  of  all 
Catholics,  that  we  congratulate  ourselves  on  the  rashness  of  the 
opponent  that  has  thrown  the  defence  of  that  cause  into  your  hands. 
"  We  remain, 

"  Very  Reverend  and  Dear  Sir, 
"  Your  very  faithful  Servants, 

"  JAMES  LAIRD  PATTERSON,  )  afpretariea 
"  EDW.  LUCAS,  {  *ecrett 

"  To  the  Very  Rev.  John  Henry  Newman,  D.D., 
"  Provost  of  the  Birmingham  Oratory." 

The  above  was  moved  at  the  meeting  by  Lord  PETRE, 
and  seconded  by  the  Hon.  CHARLES  LANGDALE. 


III. — THE    DIOCESE    OF   BIRMINGHAM. 

In  this  Diocese  there  were  in  1864,  according  to  the 
Directory  of  the  year,  136  Priests. 

"June  1,  1864. 
"  Very  Reverend  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  In  availing  ourselves  of  your  presence  at  the 
Diocesan  Synod  to  offer  you  our  hearty  thanks  for  your  recent 
vindication  of  the  honour  of  the  Catholic  Priesthood,  We,  the  Provost 
and  Chapter  of  the  Cathedral,  and  the  Clergy,  Secular  and  Regular, 
of  the  Diocese  of  Birmingham,  cannot  forego  the  assertion  of  a 
special  right,  as  your  neighbours  and  colleagues,  to  express  our 
veneration  and  affection  for  one  whose  fidelity  to  the  dictates  of 


524  SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER. 

conscience,  in  the  use  of  the  highest  intellectual  gifts,  has  won  even 
from  opponents  unbounded  admiration  and  respect. 

'k  To  most  of  us  you  are  personally  known.  Of  some,  indeed,  you 
were,  in  years  long  past,  the  trusted  guide,  to  whom  they  owe  more 
than  can  be  expressed  in  words ;  and  all  are  conscious  that  the 
ingenuous  fulness  of  your  answer  to  a  false  and  unprovoked  accusa 
tion,  has  intensified  their  interest  in  the  labours  and  trials  of  your 
life.  While,  then,  we  resent  the  indignity  to  which  you  have  been 
exposed,  and  lament  the  pain  and  annoyance  which  the  manifestation 
of  yourself  must  have  cost  you,  we  cannot  but  rejoice  that,  in  the 
fulfilment  of  a  duty,  you  have  allowed  neither  the  unworthiness  of 
your  assailant  to  shield  him  from  rebuke,  nor  the  sacredness  of  your 
inmost  motives  to  deprive  that  rebuke  of  the  only  form  which  could 
at  once  complete  his  discomfiture,  free  your  own  name  from  the 
obloquy  which  prejudice  had  cast  upon  it,  and  afford  invaluable  aid 
to  honest  seekers  after  Truth. 

"  Great  as  is  the  work  which  you  have  already  done,  Very  .Reverend 
Sir,  per  .nit  us  to  express  a  hope  that  a  greater  yet  remains  for  you 
to  accomplish.  In  an  age  and  in  a  country  in  which  the  very 
foundations  of  religious  faith  are  exposed  to  assault,  we  rejoice  in 
numbering  among  our  brethren  one  so  well  qualified  by  learning  and 
experience  to  defend  that  priceless  deposit  of  Truth,  in  obtaining 
which  you  have  counted  as  gain  the  loss  of  all  things  most  dear 
and  precious.  And  we  esteem  ourselves  happy  in  being  able  to 
offer  you  that  support  and  encouragement  which  the  assurance  ot 
our  unfeigned  admiration  and  regard  may  be  able  to  give  you  under 
your  present  trials  and  future  labours. 

"  That  you  may  long  have  strength  to  labour  for  the  Church  of 
God  and  the  glory  of  His  Holy  Name  is,  Very  Reverend  and  Dear 
Sir,  our  heartfelt  and  united  prayer.' 

( The  Subscriptions  follow. ) 

"  To  the  Very  Rev.  John  Henry  Newman,  D.D." 


IV. THE    DIOCESE    OF   BEVERLEY. 

The  following  Address,  as  is  stated  in  the  first  paragraph, 
comes  from  more  than  70  Priests  : — 

"Hull,  May  9, 1864. 
"  Very  Rev.  and  Dear  Dr.  Newman, 

"  At  a  recent  meeting  of  the  clergy  of  the 

Diocese  of  Beverley,  held  in  York,  at  which  upwards  of  seventy 
priests  were  present,  special  attention  was  called  to  your  corre 
spondence  with  [a  popular  writer] ;  and  such  was  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  your  name  was  received — such  was  the  admiration 
expressed  of  the  dignity  with  which  you  had  asserted  the  claims 
of  the  Catholic  Priesthood  in  England  to  be  treated  with  becoming 


LETTERS  OF  APPROBATION,  &c.  525 

courtesy  and  respect — and  such  was  the  strong  and  all-pervading 
sense  of  the  invaluable  service  which  you  had  thus  rendered,  not 
only  to  faith  and  morals,  but  to  good  manners  so  far  as  regarded 
religious  controversy  in  this  country,  that  I  was  requested,  as  Chair 
man,  to  become  the  voice  of  the  meeting,  and  to  express  to  you  as 
strongly  and  as  earnestly  as  I  could,  how  heartily  ^the  whole  of  the 
clergy  of  this  diocese  desire  to  thank  you  for  services  to  religion 
as  well-timed  as  they  are  in  themselves  above  and  beyond  all 
commendation,  services  which  the  Catholics  of  England  will  never 
cease  to  hold  in  most  grateful  remembrance.  God,  in  His  infinite 
wisdom  and  great  mercy,  has  raised  you  up  to  stand  prominently 
forth  in  the  glorious  work  of  re-establishing  in  this  country  the  holy 
faith  which  in  good  old  times  shed  such  lustre  upon  it.  We  all 
lament  that,  in  the  order  of  nature,  you  have  so  few  years  before  you 
in  which  to  fight  against  false  teaching  that  good  fight  in  which 
you  have  been  so  victoriously  engaged  of  late.  But  our  prayers  are 
that  you  may  long  be  spared,  and  may  possess  to  the  last  all  your 
vigour,  and  all  that  zeal  for  the  advancement  of  our  holy  faith,, 
which  imparts  such  a  charm  to  the  productions  of  your  pen. 

I  esteem  it  a  great  honour  and  a  great  privilege  to  have  been 
deputed,  as  the  representative  of  the  clergy  of  the  Diocese  of 
Beverley,  to  tender  you  the  fullest  expression  of  our  most  grateful 
thanks,  and  the  assurance  of  our  prayers  for  your  health  and  eternal 
happiness. 

"  I  am, 

';  Very  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  With  sentiments  of  profound  respect, 

"  Yours  most  faithfully  in  Christ, 

"  M.  TRAPPES. 

"  The  Verv  Rev.  Dr.  Newman." 


V.   AND  VI. — THE   DIOCESES   OF  LIVERPOOL  AND   SALFORD. 

The  Secular  Clergy  of  Liverpool  amounted  in  1864  to 
103,  and  of  Salford  to  76. 

"  Preston,  July  27,  1864. 
"  Very  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  It  may  seem,  perhaps,  that  the  Clergy  of  Lancashire 
have  been  slow  to  address  you  ;  but  it  would  be  incorrect  to  suppose 
that  they  have  been  indifferent  spectators  of  the  conflict  in  which 
you  have  been  recently  engaged.  This  is  the  first  opportunity  that 
has  presented  itself,  and  they  gladly  avail  themselves  of  their  annual 
meeting  in  Preston  to  tender  to  you  the  united  expression  of  their 
heartfelt  sympathy  and  gratitude. 

"  The  atrocious  imputation,  out  of  which  the  late  controversy 
arose,  was  felt  as  a  personal  affront  by  them,  one  and  all,  conscious 


526  SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER. 

as  they  were,  that  it  was  mainly  owing  to  your  position  as  a  dis 
tinguished  Catholic  ecclesiastic,  that  the  charge  was  connected  with 
your  name. 

"  While  they  regret  the  pain  you  must  needs  have  suffered,  they 
cannot  help  rejoicing  that  it  has  afforded  you  an  opportunity  of 
rendering  a  new  and  most  important  service  to  their  holy  religion. 
Writers,  who  are  not  overscrupulous  about  the  truth  themselves, 
have  long  used  the  charge  of  untruthfulness  as  an  ever  ready 
weapon  against  the  Catholic  Clergy.  Partly  from  the  frequent 
repetition  of  this  charge,  partly  from  a  consciousness  that,  instead 
of  undervaluing  the  truth,  they  have  ever  prized  it  above  every 
earthly  treasure,  partly,  too,  from  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  a  hearing 
in  their  own  defence,  they  have  generally  passed  it  by  in  silence. 
They  thank  you  for  coming  forward  as  their  champion  :  your  own 
character  required  no  vindication.  It  was  their  battle  more  than 
your  own  that  you  fought.  They  know  and  feel  how  much  pain 
it  has  caused  you  to  bring  so  prominently  forward  your  own  life 
and  motives,  but  they  now  congratulate  you  on  the  completeness 
of  your  triumph,  as  admitted  alike  by  friend  and  enemy. 

"  In  addition  to  answering  the  original  accusation,  you  have 
placed  them  under  a  new  obligation,  by  giving  to  all,  who  read  the 
English  language,  a  work  which,  for  literary  ability  and  the  lucid 
exposition  of  many  difficult  and  abstruse  points,  forms  an  invaluable 
contribution  to  our  literature. 

"  They  fervently  pray  that  God  may  give  you  health  and  length 
of  days,  and,  if  it  please  Him,  some  other  cause  in  which  to  use  for 
His  glory  the  great  powers  bestowed  upon  you. 

"  Signed  on  behalf  of  the  Meeting, 

"THOS.  PROVOST  COOKSON. 

"  The  Very  Rev.  J.  H.  Newman." 


VII. — THE    DIOCESE    OF   HEXHAM. 

The  Secular  Priests  on  Mission  in  1864  in  this  Diocese 
were  64. 

"  Durham,  Sept.  22,  1864. 
"  My  Dear  Dr.  Newman, 

"  At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Clergy  of  the  Diocese  of 
Hexham  and  Newcastle,  held  a  few  days  ago  at  Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne,  I  was  commissioned  by  them  to  express  to  you  their  sincere 
sympathy,  on  account  of  the  slanderous  accusations,  to  which  you 
have  been  so  unjustly  exposed.  We  are  fully  aware  that  these  foul 
calumnies  were  intended  to  injure  the  character  of  the  whole  body 
-of  the  Catholic  Clergy,  and  that  your  distinguished  name  was 
singled  out,  in  order  that  they  might  be  more  effectually  propagated. 
It  is  well  that  these  poisonous  shafts  were  thus  aimed,  as  no  one 


LETTERS  OF  APPROBATION,  &c.  527 

could  more  triumphantly  repel  them.  The  '  Apologia  pro  Vita  sua  ' 
will,  if  possible,  render  still  more  illustrious  the  name  of  its  gifted 
author,  and  be  a  lasting  monument  of  the  victory  of  truth,  and  the 
signal  overthrow  of  an  arrogant  and  reckless  assailant. 

"  It  may  appear  late  for  us  now  to  ask  to  join  in  your  triumph, 
but  as  the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Northern  Clergy  does  not  take  place 
till  this  time,  it  is  the  first  occasion  offered  us  to  present  our  united 
congratulations,  and  to  declare  to  you,  that  by  none  of  your  brethren 
are  you  more  esteemed  and  venerated,  than  by  the  Clergy  of  the 
Diocese  of  Hexham  and  Newcastle. 

"  Wishing  that  Almighty  God  may  prolong  your  life  many  more 
years  for  the  defence  of  our  holy  religion  and  the  honour  of  your 
brethren, 

"  I  am,  dear  Dr.  Newman, 

"  Yours  sincerely  in  Jesus  Christ, 

"  RALPH  PROVOST  PLATT,  V.  G. 

"  The  Very  Rev.  J.  H.  Newman." 


VIII. — THE   CONGRESS   OF  WuRZBURG. 

"  September  15,  1864. 
"  Sir, 

"  The  undersigned,  President  of  the  Catholic  Congress  of 
Germany  assembled  in  Wiirzburg,  has  been  commissioned  to  express 
to  you,  Very  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir,  its  deep-felt  gratitude  for  your  late 
able  defence  of  the  Catholic  Clergy,  not  only  of  England,  but  of 
the  whole  world,  against  the  attacks  of  its  enemies. 

"  The  Catholics  of  Germany  unite  with  the  Catholics  of  England 
in  testifying  to  you  their  profound  admiration  and  sympathy,  and 
pray  that  the  Almighty  may  long  preserve  your  valuable  life.. 

"  The  above  Resolution  was  voted  by  the  Congress  with  acclama 
tion. 

"  Accept,  very  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir,  the  expression  of  the  high 
consideration  with  which  I  am 

"  Your  most  obedient  servant, 
"(Signed)  ERNEST  BARON  MOIJ  DE  SO\TS. 
"  The  Very  Rev.  J.  H.  Newman." 

IX. — THE    DIOCESE    OF  HOBART   TOWN. 

"  Hobart  Town,  Tasmania,  November  22, 1864. 

"  Very  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir, 

"  By  the  last  month's  post  we  at  length  received 
your  admirable  book,  entitled,  '  Apologia  pro  Vita  sua,'  and  the 
pamphlet,  '  What  then  does  Dr.  Newman  mean  ?' 


528  SUPPLEMENTAL  MATTER. 

"  By  this  month's  mail,  we  wish  to  express  our  heartfelt  gratifica 
tion  and  delight  for  being  possessed  of  a  work  so  triumphant  in 
maintaining  truth,  and  so  overwhelming  in  confounding  arrogance 
and  error,  as  the  '  Apologia.' 

"  No  doubt,  your  adversary,  resting  on  the  deep-seated  prejudice 
of  our  fellow-countrymen  in  the  United  Kingdom,  calculated  upon 
establishing  his  own  fame  as  a  keen-sighted  polemic,  as  a  shrewd 
and  truth-loving  man,  upon  the  fallen  reputation  of  one,  who,  as  he 
would  demonstrate, — yes,  that  he  would, — set  little  or  no  value 
on  truth,  and  who,  therefore,  would  deservedly  sink  into  obscurity, 
henceforward  rejected  and  despised  ! 

"  Aman  of  old  erected  a  gibbet  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  on  which 
an  unsuspecting  and  an  unoffending  man,  one  marked  as  a  victim, 
was  to  be  exposed  to  the  gaze  and  derision  of  the  people,  in  order 
that  his  own  dignity  and  fame  might  be  exalted ;  but  a  divine 
Providence  ordained  otherwise.  The  history  of  the  judgment  that 
fell  upon  Aman,  has  been  recorded  in  Holy  Writ,  it  is  to  be  presumed, 
as  a  warning  to  vain  and  unscrupulous  men,  even  in  our  days. 
There  can  be  no  doubt,  a  moral  gibbet,  full  '  fifty  cubits  high,'  had 
been  prepared  some  time,  on  which  you  were  to  be  exposed,  for 
the  pity  at  least,  if  not  for  the  scorn  and  derision  of  so  many,  who 
had  loved  and  venerated  you  through  life  ! 

"  But  the  effort  made  in  the  forty- eight  pages  of  the  redoubtable 
pamphlet,  '  What  then  does  Dr.  Newman  Mean  ?  ' — the  production 
of  a  bold,  unscrupulous  man,  with  a  coarse  mind,  and  regardless 
of  inflicting  pain  on  the  feelings  of  another,  has  failed, — marvellously 
failed, — and  he  himself  is  now  exhibited  not  only  in  our  fatherland, 
but  even  at  the  Antipodes,  in  fact  wherever  the  English  language 
is  spoken  or  read,  as  a  shallow  pretender,  one  quite  incompetent 
to  treat  of  matters  of  such  undying  interest  as  those  he  presumed 
to  interfere  with. 

"  We  fervently  pray  the  Almighty,  that  you  may  be  spared  to  His 
Church  for  many  years  to  come, — that  to  Him  alone  the  glory  of 
this  noble  work  may  be  given, — and  to  you  the  reward  in  eternal 
bliss! 

"  And  from  this  distant  land  we  beg  to  convey  to  you,  Very  Rev. 
and  Dear  Sir,  the  sentiments  of  our  affectionate  respect,  and  deep 
veneration." 

(The  Subscriptions  follow,  of  the  Bishop,  Vicar  - 
General  and  eighteen  Clergy.) 

"  The  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Newman, 
&c.  &c.  &c." 

THE    END. 


BX  4705  .N5  A3  1913 

SMC 

Newman,  John  Henry, 

1801-1890. 
Newman's  Apologia  pro 

vita  sua  :  the  two 
AKB-5219  (sk)