My dear Maskell,
One who has known you so long and
loved you so well as I have, cannot fail to experience much
sorrow of heart in now addressing you. But private sorrows,
and private feelings have little place in the great crisis in
which we live. I do not mean that we are required to be
stoically indifferent; but that our duties to God and God’s
truth, are so paramount over any regard to earthly ties, or
private griefs, that we must needs put them by—so far at
least as that they be no hindrance or impediment to the doing His
will. Truly, in our time does the cycle of the
world’s course seem to have come round, and never perhaps
since the early days of persecution has there been so much need
to remember and apply the warning, “He that loveth father
or mother more than me, is not worthy of me.” Believe
me, I acknowledge fully, and am glad to acknowledge thus openly,
that I am as much persuaded you are acting under the constraint
of this great law, as that I am desirous to be guided by it
myself. I acknowledge your trial (and have good cause to
know how severely you have felt it), and I as much believe in
your sincerity as I do in my own. I trust, therefore, that
never by me at any rate shall your anticipation be realized, when
you say, “I am prepared to be judged harshly, and the more harshly
by oldest friends.” [6] Though I do not
come to the same conclusions with you, and am about to controvert
the general argument of your “Second Letter,” I know
you will be the first and readiest to do me justice as to the
temper in which I write.
Whatever view the world may have taken of that letter, or
however it may regard its author, I think few will deny it is
well it should have some answer. It is a different thing to
say, it were well it had not been written, or, not written by one
in this or that circumstance, from saying that being
written, it does not demand a reply. Persons may and will
judge differently, as to the propriety of your having published
it, though I dare say, far the greater part of English Churchmen
will be against you in that respect, and say they know not how to
reconcile your having done so with either dutifulness or
wisdom. For my own part, however, I must say (whatever may
be thought of me for saying so) I do not condemn you for having
published it; if only you will seek patience to weigh all
circumstances indicating the line of duty, before you shall
finally act upon the doubts and difficulties it discloses.
I confess, to my mind, there is but one justification for any man
in the communion of the Church of England, having written and
published such a letter; viz.—that, feeling the oppression
of the difficulties it sets forth, he is yet no more than in
doubt, as to the matters debated in it, and the conclusion to
be drawn from them. Perhaps in ordinary times even such a
frame of
mind would not be a sufficient excuse for the unsettling tendency
of that which you have written; but certainly these are
not ordinary times; and, I agree with you in thinking,
many ordinary rules do not apply. Enquiries therefore how
far the Church of England may have sanctioned error, or failed to
teach the whole Catholic truth, pressed even with painful
nakedness and pertinacity, must, perchance, now of necessity be
instituted, in order “to do her good at her latter
end.” At any rate there is a show of reason on
his side, who says, “If her ‘grievous
wound’ be not probed to its full depth, it will never be
more than ‘slightly healed;’” and of this
argument, I, at any rate, am disposed to allow you the full
benefit. Moreover, when it cannot be denied that
practically “the trumpet” has given “an
uncertain sound,” it seems far more “tolerable”
to have enquiry pushed even to what some will call the verge of
disloyalty, than would be the case if the cause of uncertainty
were only in the writer’s mind, and might not, with any
plausibility or truth be charged upon the Church herself.
Still, after making all due allowance for these disturbing
forces, there is, I think, no justification at all for such
statements as those in your “Second Letter,” but in
the one consideration that the writer is grievously pressed by
the difficulties of the case; (“the archers have hit him,
and he is sore wounded;”) yet, believing it would be
sin to let go his hold upon the Church in which his lot
has been cast without the most direct and earnest endeavours to
ascertain whether his doubts have not an answer, and his
difficulties a solution somewhere, he lays them as a duty, and
with great
pain, though with all plainness, before his brethren of the same
communion, that he may rejoice in such answer and such solution
if they can be given. Take away this honest motive, and
consider the writer’s mind as already made up, and I see no
escape from the reproach of his having written as a traitor: but
grant the supposition I have made (and I know, better, I believe,
than most men, how safely it may be granted you), and there
remains, to my mind, no ground for the invective and reproach
with which in some quarters you have been met. [8]
You will not misunderstand me, if I say that I approach the
task I have undertaken with a certain disquietude, arising from the
responsibility I appear to take upon myself, and the
consciousness how little qualified I am duly to discharge
it. These thoughts have made me feel at times uncertain
whether I do well to attempt it at all. Still, as I do not
think at present there is any notice of another undertaking it;
and as, if there be, my letter will be no hindrance to any one
else more worthily occupying the same ground, and as I do seem
(to myself at any rate) to have something to answer as to
the principle on which your difficulties rest, perhaps I better
discharge my duty by writing what I can, than I should do
in withholding my letter, from the knowledge my ability does not
reach to the half that I could wish. I trust, however, you
will remember, if I have not learning or skill to state the
Church of England’s argument in the way it may best be
stated, that I only am responsible; and it is no fair mode
of reasoning, to argue, the Church of England can say no more in
defence of her position than I may be able to set down for
her.
But I proceed to the subject before me.
The drift of your whole second letter appears to me to be
summed up in this one sentence towards its close, “I have
resigned my cure of souls, because I have no doctrines and no
faith to teach, as certainly the faith and doctrines of the
English Church.” [10] Plainly this
involves the whole point at issue; for if you have none,
(I mean as a result not of your own mind, but from the
Church’s defect,) then of course neither have I, nor has
any one of her priests; and if so, we have all, (all, that is to
say, who are enough imbued with the spirit of Catholic antiquity
to know and feel that we must teach as the Church in all
ages has taught,) no other line before us but to follow your
example in resignation of our cures. And this again is a
sentence of deposition to the Church of England altogether; for
that Church which drives from her all that is sound and Catholic,
and can admit none but such as are more or less heretics to
minister at her altars, is manifestly faithless to her trust, and
has forfeited the “good deposit.” She can claim
no longer to be a living branch of the true vine; nor can any man
believe that she can bear and convey the grace of
life-giving sacraments. To ascertain whether indeed this be
so with us, is the point to which I purpose presently to direct
my argument, endeavouring to show the contrary, inasmuch as I
think it may be proved, that where the faith has been directly
assailed, as on the subject of Baptism by the late decision of
the Privy Council, our business is to clear and vindicate it; and
that we have time, and I trust also, means to do
this; whilst upon all other essential subjects, not in like
manner attacked, though the Church of England may possibly seem
upon some of them more open to objection or assault than upon
Baptism, we yet have a rule of Catholic teaching which is
dogmatic, and ought to be received as such by every
one of us on the very face of the matter, until in any like mode
it may be brought into question, when again, as such cause
arises, the objection must be met, and the faith vindicated and
cleared.
Before, however, I proceed to these positions and the proofs
of them, I am anxious to say something on one or two preliminary
considerations. And first, I must make an observation on my
own former letter, and on the notice taken of it by you, (in the
kindest terms, but, as I think, with some little misapprehension
of its argument,) in the appendix to your “second
letter.” I refer to this, not merely to clear up the
misapprehension, which might appear a personal matter hardly
worth the time, but also because I think the point will be found
to have a further and necessary bearing on my present subject as
we proceed. After speaking of my letter as to its tone, you
say, “But as it was not intended to be an answer to the
facts stated in my first letter, so it seemed to me to fail in
meeting the real difficulty of the case.” [12] It is quite true it was not
intended to be an answer to the facts, viz. the positions
advanced by you as to the powers of the regal supremacy, and the
jurisdiction of the Committee of Privy Council, as a court of
appeal. Rather, it admitted the facts, for argument’s
sake at any rate, (I did not intend to commit myself, and, I
think, did not commit myself to more than this in the way of
concession,) in order to show that, even so, the conclusions you
drew would not follow legitimately from them. Its aim,
therefore was, that even granting the premises to be as you had
stated them, as to the authority of the said court, and granting
also the judgment (then about to be delivered) to be heretical,
still the Church might not be thereby committed to heresy; and
would not be so, unless it could be reasonably made
manifest that she intended such heresy to be permissible;
that her animus was to include the heresy in her
teaching. “Its point was,” (you continue)
“that even granting such an ambiguity to exist in our
formularies, yet it might have been an inadvertence at the time
when our Prayer Book and Articles were put forth, and that we
must prove that the Church of England at the Reformation
intended that there should be such an ambiguity. But
this is a line of argument which must admit that which has been
so energetically denied to bear upon the question at issue,
namely, the opinions of the reformers and divines of the
sixteenth century; and it is to be remembered that if such are to
be referred to as evidence of the animus of our Church
on the subject of Baptism, so they must equally be appealed to
upon the doctrines, for example, of the Eucharist and sacramental
grace. In short, it is making use of an argument wisely and
long repudiated by the High Church party.” [13]
This statement, as I conceive, does not represent the argument
of my former letter at all, and therefore is no answer to
it. And for this reason it does not represent it; that it
confounds together and then unconsciously interchanges, two
somewhat similar, but by no means identical propositions, making
me answerable for both, whereas to one only of them am I really
committed. Observe, it is one thing to say, “It is
necessary to take into account the animus of those who sanctioned
them, in order to ascertain the true sense of the
documents:” it is another to say, “It is
necessary to do this, in order to determine the guilt of the
Church.” The first of these propositions I have
never maintained at all. The second was the very essence of
my argument. I never maintained we were to go to the
intentions of the compilers in order to arrive at the meaning of
the formularies; but I did say, (and I must venture still to
think the argument sound, at any rate not refuted by your
remarks,) that we could not condemn our Church of heresy, without
considering whether she had ever intended to sanction
heresy. For (let me say it once more) I was speaking of the
animus, not to show the sense of the documents, but to show the
guilt or innocency of the Church. The first, as I
understand the matter, is the ground “so wisely and long
repudiated by the High Church party,” (and which I quite
agree in repudiating;) the second, I think is, when fully stated,
almost a self-evident truth wheresoever a moral delinquency is to
be affirmed. The first view too, would not really have
agreed with my argument; for, I said, “The only postulate I
ask is, that the Church shall not, and cannot stand committed to
heresy, without proof that her crime is something not
accidental but wilful and deliberate; something more than a
mistake which she is ready and willing to clear up the moment
opportunity is given her to do so. In short, that as a man
is not a liar without the intention to deceive, so a Church is
not heretical, unless the animus of heresy be proved against
her.” [14a] Neither would this
representation of the drift of my argument agree with the
particular illustration, of the factory act, by which I tried at
some length to make my meaning plain: for certainly I never said,
the judges were to have recourse to the animus of the framers of
that measure in order to ascertain its legal sense, though
I did (as I think justly) argue, they who framed or passed it
were not to be convicted of cruelty or double-dealing
because an inadvertent ambiguity might for a time defeat their
object. [14b] Neither should it be forgotten
that ecclesiastical history itself furnishes plain instances of
the difference of those two propositions, and I think of the
justness of that one which alone I supported. There was a
time when the Apostles’ Creed was found insufficient to
protect the one Faith, even on the most sacred subject of the
true divinity of the Son of God. Arianism crept in, in
spite of its wording: and had there been a Judicial Committee of
Privy Council to hear the case of Arius, no doubt we should have
heard there too, of “charitable interpretations,” and
“qualified senses,” and the impropriety of
“fixing one meaning upon doubtful words,” and the
liberal intention to include as many as possible under an
“hypothetical construction.” It might not have
been deemed even then, cogent or sufficient merely to appeal to
the known sentiments of the framers to arrive at the sense of the
document in question: at any rate to have done so, might have
been the introduction of a dangerous principle for another day:
but surely then, and in all times, it would be a maxim among the
faithful, that the Church could not be condemned as guilty of the
heresy, (whether of Arius or any other,) even if there were an
ambiguity or want of strict definition in her holy words, without
considering also whether her animus in her sanction of them had
been heretical. The absence of any such suspicion, even had
the East and West been then divided, would have prevented any
from withdrawing from the communion of the Church at
Constantinople at that time, even though she might fail for a
brief space to enforce the truth. And this very
consideration, as it seems to me, was sufficient to clear the
Church’s faithfulness, during the rise of Arianism, and
until the great Council of Nicea could be held. It gave her
time to pass what we may call a declaratory act of the true
meaning of the Creed, without in the mean time forfeiting her
trust. [15] There can be no doubt the Nicene
Creed was such an act; and I have asked for ourselves only the
patience that we may try to procure such a vindication of
ourselves and of our faith, now in our day, as to baptism, in our
somewhat parallel circumstances. I have endeavoured to
enforce only the similar claim so far as this parallel will hold
good: viz. not at all the claim to have our formularies
interpreted by the known or suspected intentions of their
compilers; but merely, not to have our branch of the Church
Catholic hastily adjudged guilty of heresy, or of forfeiting her
name and place in Christendom, without consideration had of her
real guilt or innocence: without weighing the point, whether,
even granting it were true (though I cannot see it) that
her formularies on Baptism are ambiguous, she has ever had the
guilty intention of permitting heresy within her. The only
claim therefore which I have made, is that she has the right to
time to throw off the ambiguity, and re-affirm her
faith. If she will neither do, nor try to do this, I have
all along admitted she will “become bound by the said
sentence,” forfeit her claim on our allegiance, and blot
out her name from the kingdom of Christ: but she does not appear
to me to have done this already, and our duty is now to
see that she do not. As I have said, I think we have the
time, and I trust we have the means, effectually,
though it may be gradually, to vindicate her.
I must cite a few lines more from the next paragraph of your
appendix, in order the more directly to mark what I feel called
upon to do in this letter more than I attempted in the
last. You say (App. p. 86), “I cannot refrain from
citing one passage more from Mr. Mayow’s letter. He
says: ‘Let me be well understood. If such ambiguity
of language can be shown to be intentional on the part of the
Church; if she can be proved to have desired in drawing up
her articles and services to have admitted two interpretations on
baptismal regeneration; if her view and plan be to include two
such opposite parties within her as those represented by Mr.
Gorham and the Bishop of Exeter, by such ambiguous and therefore
comprehensive language; I most fully admit she stands convicted
of unpalliated heresy both in form and
matter.’” On which your observation is,
“Instead of baptismal regeneration in the above
sentence, put the Eucharist or
justification!” This opens new ground, and I
own involves very weighty considerations, most fairly calling for
a reply. It is the application of the whole principle of
your second letter, the want of dogmatic teaching, to an
extension of the subject of my first. You say in fact,
“If the Church’s animus be sound on baptism, consider
whether it is so likewise, on justification and the Eucharist,
and then answer as to her condition.” Of course in
all these cases I conceive you exaggerate the grounds against me,
rather, I should say, against the Catholic character of the
formularies of our Church, by having imagined I appealed to the
opinions of the compilers of our services, in order to ascertain
their meaning; but, as I have allowed, nay claimed, that in one
respect, i.e. in order to ascertain the Church’s
guilt, such reference to her animus is necessary, I do not
think it is a sufficient answer merely to have pointed out the
above distinction. A further examination and reply I think
is needful, which I propose presently to give.
Here,
however, I wish merely to observe, that my former letter did not
deal with this extension of the subject; did not go into the
general principle of the dogmatic teaching, or want of dogmatic
teaching, in the Church of England, because this was not a point
embraced or discussed in your first letter; and mine of course
was not an answer by anticipation to your second, but merely a
brief argument as to the one point of the Catholic doctrine of
baptism, and the way in which the (then) expected judgment of the
Committee of Privy Council, should it impugn that doctrine, would
affect our Church’s position: and I think I am justified in
saying (even upon your own showing since [18]) that had that point alone been
brought in question, my argument would have been sufficient; at
any rate, so far sufficient and satisfactory, that you would have
felt with me we might one and all remain at our posts, and that
the Church of England would not be involved in the heresy of that
sentence, upon the very grounds which I enforced, namely, that
her mind and heart were not proved to be unsound, and therefore
that we have time to strive earnestly to clear her from
the ambiguity of her words (so considered), and to vindicate her
character for Catholic truth. But it is your feeling, now
since enunciated, that there are other points of equal importance
less clearly defined; that, in fact, baptism was the very
best ground for our Church to stand upon in her conflict
with the liberalizing spirit of the day; and if she could not
maintain herself there, what chance has she elsewhere:—it
is this, which supplies the fuel to your despondency, and almost
despair of her. I say again, to this argument I propose to
come in the sequel, and would only here explain, what perhaps I
ought to have stated, something more definitely, in my former
letter, (though it is a point on which I think you will make no
quarrel with me for “amending the record,”) that when
I say, if “the Church intended to include two such opposite
doctrines,” I mean, of course, “intended to
include” and did include. I should not be
shaken in my persuasion of her innocency of heresy, either as to
baptism, or any other doctrine, merely by being convinced, if so
it were, that there was an evil intention of an unlawful
comprehension by the Church of England of the sixteenth century,
if yet, in God’s mercy, it were frustrated in the actual
settlement of her rule of faith. I hold that both parts
must combine to place us in a dilemma now, that is to say, both
the heretical intention, (so that it is not merely an
inadvertence,) and the actual ambiguity, (so that the heresy
is permitted). If the latter be not found, she will
stand upon her formularies, in God’s providence,
enunciating the truth; if the former be not found, then, as I
have already said, I think she is not so hastily to be pronounced
guilty, as not to be allowed the reasonable time (so she do but
begin to use it) to vindicate or re-affirm her faith.
There is a second preliminary matter on which I must likewise
ask leave to make some remark before I proceed further. It
is obvious that any man’s view of the catholicity of our
Church’s mind on baptism, will be much affected by the
force he may attribute to the argument, and his general opinion
of the
soundness of the judgment, of the Privy Council in point of
fact. It is true, even one of the Judges themselves might
say, “I believe our decision to be the only correct one;
the one we were obliged to come to upon the wording of the
formularies and articles minutely scanned; but I do not believe
it represents the mind of the Church;” and if this were so,
(supposing, that is, the words to have this ambiguity really
inherent in them, and the Court skilfully to have detected it,)
the judgment might be called in this sense “able,” or
“probably correct,” as you have called it, [20] and yet the whole argument of my former
letter still remain intact. But if anywhere it be thought
that the late judgment is sound or probably correct as a true
representation of the Church’s mind, then in so far is the
force of my letter and its argument diminished or
destroyed. Of course, just in so much on the other hand, if
it be thought or proved that it is not “an able
judgment,” or “a probably correct” one, the
position I have maintained is strengthened, because it is, a
priori, to a certain extent probable that the intention
is, as the sound interpretation of the words is; and
consequently that if the words cannot, without straining them, or
an ignorance of their subject-matter be made to include heresy,
then the animus of the Church must not be supposed to be
heretical. Therefore, although, if upon mere technical
grounds of legal construction, the late judgment be
“able,” and “probably correct,” my
argument remains still, as I think, tenable and sound; yet much
more weighty and conclusive is it, if that judgment can be shown
to be neither able nor acute, neither well considered, nor fairly
apprehensive of the points at issue. On this subject
therefore I will ask you to bear with me for a few words.
I am persuaded that such is the case:—that the judgment
is not sound; nor able; nor probably right; regarded merely as an
exposition of the documents which the court had before it,
independently of all consideration of the abstract truth or
falsehood of the theology involved. I do not indeed mean to
go into this subject at large, or to test the decision throughout
in its several parts, but I do desire to direct your attention to
two or three particulars, in the hope even these may make you
re-consider your verdict as to its being “probably a right
decision.” If in that expression you meant
“probably right,” not merely on the technical ground
of verbal criticism, but as I certainly imagine you mean us to
understand, “right” according to your present
view of the likely aim and intention of those who put forth our
articles and formularies, and of the Church of England of the
sixteenth century which sanctioned them;
“right” therefore as to a real intention of
leaving baptismal regeneration an open question, then it becomes
all the more important to subject some few points of the judgment
to a careful scrutiny, that we may see on what foundation such an
opinion rests.
In the first place then, we find the following declaration of
the judges, presenting their own view of their powers.
“The Court,” they tell us, “has no jurisdiction
or authority to settle matters of faith:” [21] that is, they give us to understand it
was by no
means its province, and as little its desire, to invade the
precincts of the Church’s sanctuary and “determine
what ought in any particular to be the doctrine of the Church of
England.” [22a] Of course the latter part of
this sentence is true. Their duty was to declare, (so far
as any jurisdiction they had might enable them to declare,) not
what ought to be, but what was the doctrine of the
English Church. If they only meant therefore to say, it was
not their business or their wish to enact any new canon on
baptism, one is almost tempted to smile at their simplicity in
thinking it necessary so solemnly to enunciate such a truism, or
thus to magnify themselves upon such moderation and forbearance;
but if they thought or meant to disclaim settling any thing
concerning doctrine by the powers of interpretation, which they
could not avoid exercising, one is tempted again to smile, only
more bitterly, to think of any persons, and especially judges in
so solemn a cause, entertaining so chimerical a notion as this
disclaimer evinces. What! did they imagine they could
escape “settling doctrine” by the judgment they gave,
merely by leaving every man to teach what he pleased? Did
they forget that interpretation itself is a power that
settles what it interprets? [22b] Did they
suppose a translator assigns no sense to the book which he
translates? Did they, or could they for a single moment
lose sight of the fact, that they must
“settle” whether Mr. Gorham were to be instituted to
the living of Bramford Speke or not; and in so doing must
determine that “the doctrine held by him” was, or
“was not, contrary or repugnant to the declared doctrine of
the Church of England?” One can hardly believe they
could lose sight of or misunderstand such a point, and therefore
we seem driven rather to let them take refuge in the truism, than
chase them into the paradox, however the latter may be the more
natural suggestion of their words. But even so, it must I
think be allowed that the diction of what ought to have been a
most carefully considered document is very clumsily obscure; as
is evident from the number of persons since its publication who
keep continually quoting upon us those words of the judgment, and
assuring us that by the showing and declaration of the Committee
of Privy Council itself, “doctrine is not
affected.” And this obscurity is darkened even more
by the aid of the published comment upon, or perhaps I should say
reiteration of, the same view, given since by an eminent member
of the court. Lord Campbell in one of his letters to Miss
Sellon says, “I assure you we have given no opinion
contrary to yours upon the doctrine of baptismal
regeneration. We had no jurisdiction to decide any
doctrinal question, and we studiously abstained from doing
so. We were only called upon to construe the articles
and formularies of the Church, (!) and to say whether they be
so framed as to condemn certain opinions expressed by Mr.
Gorham.” [23] If Lord Campbell individually, or
the judges generally, mean merely that their own personal faith
being in agreement or disagreement with Mr. Gorham’s
opinions, is not a point decided by their sentence, I most
entirely allow this; but if they mean, as certainly a large
portion of the world has understood them to mean, that to admit
Mr. Gorham to a benefice with cure of souls, and to say the
doctrine held and published by him is “not contrary or
repugnant to the declared doctrine of the Church of
England,” does not “settle doctrine,” so far as
that Church’s teaching is concerned, (and so far as they
have authority,) this certainly strikes me as a most marvellous
inaccuracy, bespeaking any thing rather than ability or judicial
clearness. Yet if they did not mean this, (though to speak
of a matter of personal faith might be in point, as far merely as
regarded Lord Campbell’s clearing himself with Miss
Sellon,) how should their judgment tend, as they seem to have
hoped it would, to peace:—“to heal,” as Lord
Campbell expresses it, [24] “the wounds
from which the Church of England has lately
suffered?” “What hast thou to do with
peace,” surely we may demand of the judgment itself, unless
something real is to be made of this profession of not settling
doctrine? By such a mode of writing, the judges appear to
have thought peace could be preserved; nothing being settled, but
the latitude of interpretation which might, as they supposed,
include all, and let every man do “that which was right in
his own eyes:”—a scheme that might possibly have
answered if the points in question had been mere matters of human
opinion, or if there had been none in the Church who believed
them to be God’s truth which they had no right to give
away: none also who were sharp-sighted enough to see that to make any
doctrine an open question, is to rule that there is no
dogmatic teaching upon it at all. Not to have observed
these things more distinctly, and not more distinctly to have
expressed themselves as to what they really thought their office
was, appears to me, in the very outset, to be not
indicative of ability or acuteness in the Court.
Secondly, I see no marks of an able view of the subject in the
Court’s extraction and representation of the peculiarities
of Mr. Gorham’s opinions. On the contrary, the
Committee of Council appear to me (I trust I shall stand excused
in speaking very plainly; the matter is of too much importance to
permit soft words merely for fashion’s sake;) to have been
absolutely unable to master the sense of what he wrote. It
is so manifest they have not accurately represented it, in
their summary, that if I did think they really understood
his book, I should be compelled to believe they knowingly
softened down, and misrepresented his doctrine, to be able
the more easily to pronounce for his institution, without
daring absolutely to say the Church did not condemn his heresy;
that they made his doctrine into something which it is
not, something, at any rate, less glaringly heretical than
it is, in order to satisfy his partizans, by giving judgment in
his and their favour, at the same time that they trusted to
escape the direct assertion of his real opinions being admissible
in the Church of England, by altering them knowingly
themselves. But I certainly do not make any such charge
against the Committee; only, I have no alternative but to believe
they did not rightly apprehend his book at all. They took it,
in fact, with many (perhaps not unnatural) complaints, that they
should be expected to find out its meaning; [27a] and then, even with all the help of
counsel, and all the advantage of the really able judgment of the
Court below, (which, however, as has been pointed out by the
Bishop of Exeter, they appear wholly to have ignored, and thought
unworthy of consideration,) they set down sundry propositions as
those maintained by him, which not only are not in his
book, but which do not even represent what is in it.
Thus they say, “The doctrine held by Mr. Gorham appears to
us to be this: . . . that the grace of regeneration does not so
necessarily accompany the act of baptism that regeneration
invariably takes place in baptism: that the grace may be granted
before, in, or after baptism: . . . that infants baptized, and
dying before actual sin, are undoubtedly saved, but that in no
case is regeneration in baptism unconditional;” [27b] statements not found in his answers,
though perhaps he may hold some of them; while some of them are
actually inconsistent with what he does maintain. Thus, the
Committee of Privy Council say, Mr. Gorham holds the grace of
regeneration may be granted “before, in, or after
baptism,” apparently never having perceived at all his own
words, which exclude, as the Bishop of Exeter has most justly
pointed out, the possibility, in his (Mr. Gorham’s) real
view, of justification in baptism, except by a miracle;
the miracle of one coming to baptism hypocritically, but being
converted at the very moment, and so receiving the benefit
concomitantly with the Sacrament. [28a] But the
Privy Council appear never to have seen, or seeing, not to have
weighed, those passages in Mr. Gorham’s answers in which he
positively asserts that all the benefits which we ascribe to
baptism, through God’s gift and mercy, are given neither
in nor by baptism, but in all cases before
it, where baptism is rightly received at all. Thus he says,
“That they (i.e. infants) must have been regenerated by an
act of grace prevenient to baptism, in order to make them worthy
recipients of that Sacrament.” [28b] Again,
“The new nature must have been possessed by those who
receive baptism rightly, and therefore possessed before the seal
was affixed.” [28c] Again,
“As the stipulation of faith goes before baptism, and as
the condition of being ‘the child of God’ is a
blessing conferred by faith, hence the blessing of adoption also
precedes baptism in its essence.” [28d] Again, “The blessing is,
‘adoption to be the sons of God;’ that blessing is
undoubtedly to be ‘ascribed to God.’ For faith
is ‘not of ourselves: it is the gift of God:’ and to
such as possess faith, to them giveth He (Jesus Christ) power to
become the sons of God. But that faith and that filial
state, though clearly to be ‘ascribed to God,’ was
given to the worthy recipient (for we are all along assuming this
worthiness) before baptism, and not in
baptism” [28e] (sic). Again, “As faith
must precede beneficial baptism, and as justification is
invariably consequent on faith, therefore justification also
precedes beneficial baptism, and cannot be equivalent to
it.” [29] Thus Mr. Gorham, when heard for
himself, plainly declares that the gifts of regeneration,
adoption, remission of sins, and justification, so far from being
ever given to any one in baptism, must have been possessed
before it, if it be not hurtful; and so far from being ever given
by baptism, are always given, if given at all, by
prevenient grace. I cite these passages here, however, not
in the least to argue upon the amount of their error or heresy;
but merely to show how very superficially the Committee of Privy
Council have regarded them; how very inadequately they have
represented them in their summary of Mr. Gorham’s
opinions. And I must own here again, I am unable to
discover any marks of ability or acumen; of discrimination or
accuracy. This unreadiness and slowness to throw their
minds into abstruse points of theology, may be very explainable,
by considerations of the want of previous training; by the
naturally untheological character of their mental habits; and by
a certain very imaginable ignorance of the subjects with which
they were compelled to deal. These things may be their
personal excuse; may show it was, in great measure, their
misfortune, and not their fault to err; but yet must necessarily
be taken into consideration in determining the moral weight and
importance of their judgment.
Thirdly, I am unable to find any acuteness or probable
approximation to a right decision in the manner in which the
Committee of Council examine, compare, and draw conclusions from
the various services of the Church.
And first, as to the burial service:—They say [30a]—“In every case in the
burial service, as the earth is cast upon the dead body, the
priest is directed to say, and doth say, ‘Forasmuch as it
hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself
the soul of our dear brother here departed; we therefore commit
his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
dust, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal
life;’ and thanks are afterwards given—‘for
that it hath pleased Almighty God to deliver this our brother out
of the miseries of this sinful world;’ and this is followed
by a collect in which it is prayed that ‘when we shall
depart this life, we may rest in God, as our hope is that this
our brother doth.’ The hope here expressed,”
(continues the judgment) “is the same ‘sure and
certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life,’ which is
stated immediately after the expression—‘it hath
pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take to himself the
soul of our brother here departed.’ In this service,
therefore, there are absolute expressions implying positive
assertions, which must” (the Court tells us) “be
construed in a qualified or charitable sense.” [30b] Thus it will be seen, not only
is “a hope” declared to be “an absolute
expression implying a positive assertion;” (I thought there
was good authority to say that hope, however confident or well
founded, is always to be distinguished from, not made identical with,
certainty: “Hope that is seen is not hope:”) but even
beyond this, the Court seems never to have entertained the notion
at all; never to have weighed the matter; never to have grasped
the idea; never to have had it occur to their minds, that any one
else thought or could think otherwise than they did; never to
have supposed it possible, that there could be any
difference in the object of the hope mentioned in these
two places; that “the sure and certain hope of the
resurrection,” might perhaps mean, the general
resurrection (a topic not unsuitable to be introduced one
would think) whilst the hope of the other passage might be the
hope of the individual’s welfare. However, in each
place, the Committee of Privy Council unhesitatingly assure us,
the hope is the same, and that, the hope of the
individual’s resurrection to eternal life. They are
dogmatic enough in their own teaching, in the construction of the
service to suit the conclusion to which they are coming (this
hope is the same as the one before-mentioned); but, alas!
all this, only in order to make away with dogmatic teaching, of a
higher prestige surely than theirs;—to evolve a charitable
hypothesis out of the most definite expressions! and these used
in a most solemn religious office! Again, I say, and know
not how to avoid saying, I cannot see herein the mark of ability
or acumen. [31]
Further, it seems as if the judges had never even heard
of any other meaning being given to the “thanks, that it
hath pleased Almighty God to deliver this our brother out of the
miseries of this sinful world,” than that thereby a
thanksgiving must be intended that the dead person is taken to
heaven. They appear never even for a moment to have
entertained the thought that there might be a cause for
thankfulness, even in the cutting off of a soul unprepared, if
this were the cutting off a life of longer and deeper sin, so
that by a further time, the man would only have plunged himself
deeper in misery, and have “received greater
damnation.” They perhaps had never contemplated such
things as possible in the depths of the counsels and mercies of
God; never thought of any as being possibly so past salvation, that the only
remaining mercy which could be shown them was to cut short a life
whose daily continuance was an increase of crime; whose daily
walk a progress, farther and farther into the wrath of God.
Yet had Lord Campbell been as well read in another great poet, as
he seems to have been in Milton, he might perhaps have been
reminded of these things:—
“The longer life, I wot, the greater sin;
The greater sin, the greater punishment:
All those great battles which thou boast’st to win,
Through strife and bloodshed and avengëment,
Now prais’d, hereafter dear thou shalt
repent:
For life must life, and blood must blood repay.
Is not enough thy evil life forespent?
For he that once hath missed the right way,
The further he doth go, the further he doth stray!” [33]
God forbid, indeed, that we should say this of a man, because
he “once hath missed the right way;” (nor is Spenser
answerable as implying that doctrine, as the context will show:)
but at least the thought is suggested which might have assisted
the Committee of Council in considering whether there may not be
a time when it will be lawful and reasonable to give thanks to
God, if the removal of a man unprepared, has yet removed him from
only fresh sins, and saved a soul from greater punishment.
Neither, let it be observed, is it in the least necessary to this
view to suppose that we are either called upon, or able, to
determine who among the departed have so fallen past
grace, that an immediate death was the only mercy left for
them. It is sufficient that such an explanation
can be given, if perplexity should appear to be involved in the
fact that for every one for whom our burial service is used,
thanks are given “that it hath pleased Almighty God to take
unto himself,” or “to deliver, this our brother out
of the miseries of this sinful world.” [34a]
Again: there is the treatment of the service for private
baptism. In one or two respects this service is
unquestionably stronger in its wording than the office for public
baptism, as to regeneration being the gift of baptism, which made
a careful examination of it very important. Let us
therefore see how the Committee of Privy Council have dealt with
it.
In the certificate of the due baptism of children privately
baptized, when brought to be received into the Church, (and Sir
H. J. Fust has very properly pointed out that “this is not
the certificate of the minister,” (who had baptized the
child,) “but the certificate of the Church” (to the
congregation) “founded upon the answers given as to what
had been done;” [34b] in this
certificate,) it is stated that the child, having been
“born in original sin, and in the wrath of God, is now,
BY THE LAVER OF REGENERATION IN
BAPTISM, received into the number of the children of God,
and heirs of everlasting life; for our Lord Jesus Christ doth not
deny his grace and mercy unto such infants, but most lovingly
doth call them unto Him;” [34c] and in the further
part of his office, where the priest is directed to declare what
benefits that child hath received, and how received them, the
words are, “Seeing now, dearly beloved brethren,
that this child is by BAPTISM regenerate, and grafted
into the body of Christ’s Church;” [35a] where, in the corresponding place in
the public office, the two words, “by baptism”
do not occur. Mr. Badeley had drawn especial attention to
this point; and had most aptly explained why they are introduced
in the private office, and omitted in the public.
“Omitted, (he says) not being necessary there, where the
rite was being administered.” [35b] The Church
does not seem to have contemplated any
judicial-committee-hypothesis to separate the benefits mentioned,
from the whole service in which their mention occurs; nor to have
provided any safeguard against eyes prying curiously into the
point, whether, though all these benefits are declared to be
given in the very office for the ministration of public baptism,
yet, perhaps, it might not be “by baptism”
after all. But in the office for private baptism, the very
words, “by baptism,” do occur;
“important here, (as Mr. Badeley continued,) that the
regeneration might be exclusively referred to the previous
administration in private;” that no one might be under
any possible doubt that it was by no rite or ceremony of
admission into the congregation, by nothing else but by baptism
itself, before administered, that the child became partaker of
all the privileges of a Christian.
I wish to draw out this point a little further, because it
seems to me to bear much upon the ability of the judgment.
That judgment acknowledges (as it cannot help doing) that the
office for private baptism provides for “a baptism which
may have taken place without any prayer for grace, or any
sponsors,” [36a] but it deals with it “as
exceptional,” as “intended only for cases of
emergency;” and seems to put by the argument to be drawn
from it as nothing worth upon that ground. But is it
intended by this that the benefits of baptism, whatever they be,
are not given in cases of emergency, as well as in cases of
leisure? Is it meant by the judicial committee that the
effects are different, the blessings less full, the statements
less to be relied upon, as to what is given the child and
how given, in one case than in the other? It almost
seems as if they thought so. “The private baptism of
infants (they tell us) is an exceptional case provided for an
emergency, and for which, if the emergency passes away, although
there is to be no repetition of the baptism, a full service is
provided.” [36b] I do believe, if the rubric had
not been absolutely too strong for them, (“Let them not
doubt but that the child so baptized is lawfully and sufficiently
baptized, and ought not to be baptized again;”) that they
would have wished well to the idea of some further baptism than
this “exceptional” proceeding, and (I say, but
for this rubric,) would have tried to make out there was
some completion of the sacrament in the latter part of the office
used when the child is brought into the Church, that the
congregation may be certified respecting the baptism. Nay,
one almost wonders they have not done so as it is: for surely
there might have been found as much implication, that there is
ground for doubt in the words, “Let them not doubt;” as
there can be for the “amazing” assertion in another
place, that the very earnestness of the prayers of the Church
afford an argument “for thinking that they are not
uniformly granted.” Why should we pray (is the
argument of the judges, [37a]) “for that
which God has promised to give unconditionally.”
“Those who are strongly impressed with the earnest prayers
which are offered for the divine blessing and the grace of God,
may not unreasonably suppose that the grace is not necessarily
tied to the rite, but that it ought to be earnestly and devoutly
prayed for, in order that it may THEN, or when God
pleases, be present to make the rite beneficial.” [37b] Such is absolutely a part of the
actual judgment delivered by this court, sitting as a solemn
court of appeal, to weigh and determine the force of words, and
to draw necessary consequences from them. Surely they might
equally have argued, “Those who need to be instructed
‘not to doubt,’ may not unreasonably suppose
that there must be some ground for doubt, or else
why should they be thus cautioned;” and so make a reason
out of the very rubric in question for supposing a child baptized
with this “exceptional” baptism, is not
thereby “lawfully and sufficiently baptized.”
And in truth the Judicial Committee do seem to come very near
to believing, if they do not actually believe, that something
more is essential to baptism than the form appointed in
the private office, provides, for they tell us, “Any other
conclusion” (than that the promises of the sureties are
implied,) “would be an argument to prove that none but the
imperfect and incomplete ceremony allowed in the exceptional
case would be necessary in any case” (sic.)
This looks as if they had no notion of what are the essentials of
baptism at all, and then it appears they use their ignorance as
an argument, a fortiori, to establish their
heretical conclusion. They are ignorant that “nothing
more is necessary in any case,” and therefore they deem the
benefits do not come to the child in and by baptism. I
cannot call this able or acute; quite independently of all view
as to the truth or falsehood of the conclusion they arrive
at.
But still further on this very point; consider how
sharp-sighted they have been to see that the words “by
baptism,” do not occur in another place. “It is
certain by God’s word, that children which are baptized,
dying before they commit actual sin, are undoubtedly
saved.” Yes! (says the Court) saved no
doubt—Mr. Gorham does not deny it—by prevenient
grace; (which their death, he thinks, proves them to have had;
though this too seems rather a charitable construction than
anything else; founded, so far as I see, “upon no sure
warranty” of either “Scripture,” or the
Church’s teaching;) saved, however, again says the
Court, but not by baptism. “This Rubric does
not, like the article of 1536, say that such children are saved
by baptism.” [38] Thus
sharp-sighted are they to see what makes for the side they
advocate (no one can feel it to be too strong a word); whilst all
notice of the very same words occurring where they might be
difficult to construe in the same sense is entirely
omitted. “Seeing, dearly beloved brethren”
(says the office for private baptism), “that this child
is by baptism regenerate.” Here there is
surely a plain statement how, and when it is, the regeneration
takes place. But the words do not occur in the public
office; and so they are ignored apparently as being
“exceptional,” as if they could mean nothing.
Let us see, carefully, what this amounts to, if pursued and
followed out. Instead of taking Mr. Badeley’s most
reasonable argument into consideration, that the thing intended
is exactly the same in each case, only it was too plain to
require to be stated that the regeneration was by baptism
in the public office, when the declaration “seeing this
child is regenerate” is made in the very midst of the
celebration, immediately upon the administration of the
sacrament; but that it was stated in the other service to
prevent all doubtfulness as to when, and by what
means, the regeneration was given to the
child;—instead, therefore, of interpreting the one office
by the other; instead of saying we must suppose regeneration, and
grafting into the body of Christ to be the same, and attained by
the same means in each case, the Court appears to have said
simply, we will ignore the office which is most express, as an
“exceptional case,” and proceed upon the wording of
the other only. But see, yet again, what this amounts to;
it is declaring that there is a difference of the gift in these
different baptisms. Take ten children baptized privately,
who have lived to be brought to church, and ten baptized
publicly, and of the first ten you will have it said by the Church
that they are “by baptism regenerate:” of the
others that they are regenerate—but, according to the
Gorham phraseology—by prevenient grace, and not by
baptism; or, by the Privy Council’s exposition of this (not
exactly a correct one, however), “taking place either
before, in, or after baptism.” Is any man in his
senses expected to believe such a mode of interpretation to be
sound and true; or the way to make the Church’s services
agree together; or that it is a due application of the principle
to let the services explain each other, as would be the case in
any and all ordinary legal documents. Why! according to
this rule, the right and blessed thing for parents to do, would
be, not to bring their children to church to be baptized
as soon as they can; not to give any heed to the
exhortation of “the curate of every parish, often
admonishing the people that they defer not the baptism of their
children longer than the first or second Sunday next after their
birth, or other holy-day falling between unless upon a great and
reasonable cause;” [40] but in every
possible case TO defer the
baptism, till the children may be sick, and then procure them to
be baptized privately. Then will they have the
Church’s assurance that “their infants are by
baptism regenerate, and grafted into the body of
Christ;”—then will they make the exception the rule,
and take all advantage of the “exceptional
case;”—then may they feel that knowing when
the regeneration took place, they may be sure it has taken
place;—but if they be obedient and faithful to the Church’s
exhortation; and bring their infants soon to church to be
baptised, then indeed, according to the Gorham theology, and the
Privy Council’s judgment upon it, then will they have no
knowledge whether “remission of their sins by spiritual
regeneration” hath come to their babes at all, every thing
being dependent upon the prevenient grace, which no one pretends
is given to all infants; and though, (it is said,) to some, yet
no one can pretend to say, to which!
The Privy Council, although this point of the force of the
words “regenerate by baptism” in the office
for private ministration, was pressed upon them by Mr. Badeley,
take no notice at all of it I think in their judgment; merging
all they had to say on the subject of that office in “its
being exceptional,” and “intended for an
emergency.” I cannot deem this clear-sighted and
acute. If I thought it so, I could not by any compulsion
think it honest. I do not impugn their honesty; but they
must (and will find they must in time) take the
world’s verdict as to the ability of such reasoning.
One other passage I must briefly notice: “The whole
Catechism” (the court tells us) “requires a
charitable construction, such as must be given to the
expression, ‘God the Holy Ghost who sanctifieth me, and all
the elect people of God.’” Thus it is evident
the Judicial Committee have lived so out of all theological
training and the commonest catechetical instruction, that it has
never occurred to them this passage can have a literal
meaning. They seem never to have heard or dreamed of such a
thing as “the elect people of God” being, the
baptized; never to have supposed that the words
“God the Holy Ghost who
sanctifieth,” might be descriptive of the office
of the Holy Spirit, and mean (surely
an easy and natural sense enough) who is the Sanctifier
of; never, consequently, to have considered the possibility
that the intention of the whole passage might be (and be thus
literally true), that it is God the Holy Ghost who is the
Sanctifier of the baptized, at their baptism at any rate,
although such persons may no doubt afterwards fall away, grieve
or quench him, and drive him from them. [42] Again I say, they use their own
ignorance on a point upon which any catechumen might have taught
them better, as a cumulative argument to explain the whole
Catechism in an hypothetical and unreal sense, such as they tell
us must be given to these words. Truly, if, like the
boy in the tale, the Court had expressed their thankfulness for
their ignorance, (and it is, I fear, their best friend as to many
parts of this decision’s merits,) one would be tempted to
agree with the response there given, that they “have a
great deal undoubtedly for which to be thankful.”
I do not think, then, I could call this document, put forth to
the world after so long a preparation, and known by the court
itself to be of so much importance, a clever paper, even if
looked upon merely as the exercise of an advocate, desired to
make up a judgment upon a “foregone
conclusion.” But assuredly this is one thing;
to be an able judicial document is another:—another and
so different a thing, that I presume there will be little
dispute, whether among lawyers, or any men of sense, that for a
judicial document to be (if it be) but the subtil,
ingenious effort of a partisan, is so far from even faint praise,
that it is the most disastrous imputation which could rest upon a
judge’s character, to have been a party in any such
transaction as the framing it. I cannot either call it
talent of any high character, to see all that makes for
one view, and nothing that makes against it. I
cannot praise that discrimination which is only great at
finding a solution to one-sided difficulties. I cannot
consider these as the marks of an able judge, however they may be
the natural characteristics or proceedings of an advocate or
partizan. Yet let me explain;—even so, I do not say a
partizan is by any means necessarily a dishonest man. The
habit of being biassed by what we much wish, is as natural as, in
some cases, to forecast what we much fear. It works even
unconsciously to ourselves, and is not inconsistent with the most
upright intention, nay, sometimes, not with the most earnest
endeavour after truth. But certainly he only is to
be called a great judge who can master this habit; whose mental
discipline is such, that he can abstract himself from these
circumstances of his wishes, and in spite of all the promptings
of his heart, preserve the coolness of his head; who can divest
himself, when he takes his place on his judicial throne, almost
of his personal existence, and pass judgment as if the world
would end to-morrow. The calculation of consequences; the
being guided by what shall make most for peace, or any other
desiderated end, is one of the snares to be most carefully
shunned by any man who would occupy a distinguished place in the
temple of justice. He has no pretence to stand upon
the roll of fame, as eminent in his calling as a judge, whose
eyes wander into the future, whose mind is pondering the
consequences which may ensue. Such an one shows manifestly
that he is unable to separate his judgment from his advocacy; his
judicial character from the wishes and bias of his mind; and
therefore, though a very honest man it may be, still that he is
deficient in the first of all the qualities necessary to form a
great judicial character, or secure a lasting judicial name.
I do not say, in saying these things, that Lords Campbell and
Langdale, Mr. Pemberton Leigh, Dr. Lushington, and Mr. Baron
Parke were consciously one-sided in the judgment they delivered:
but I do say, it appears to me, and I believe it will appear to
posterity, when all these things shall be matters of
unimpassioned historic reference, that whatever their judgment in
the case of Gorham v. the Bishop of Exeter may be as to its
uprightness, they lose caste as to ability, by its
delivery. They lose, and will lose caste, if only from the
fact that they were not able to see, to remember, to combine, to
take count of various matters (some of which I have just noticed)
bearing upon the very documents, (the great things as they
themselves allow by which they were to be guided,) and essential
to a fair decision; and this moreover when those very points had
been distinctly pressed upon their attention. They deviated
likewise, I believe, from all the ordinary rules of courts of
appeal, in ignoring, instead of examining, the judgment
of the court from which the appeal came up, the decision of which
they were about to reverse. Many will be the hearts that
will grieve over these things as time goes on, first, generally,
on the ground of the dissatisfaction and distrust which such
proceedings cast upon the character of the administration of our
law; but next also, on the narrower though hardly less painful
ground, of seeing men who might have stood so high, losing their
position in the world’s history, by the too sensitive
desire to do the things which, as they imagine, make for peace,
rather than boldly daring to adopt the divine motto, “Be
just, and fear not.”
To say nothing of others, how many will think remorsefully of
the deed done which cannot now be undone, when they find (as find
I am sure they will) that this judgment has struck down from the
pedestal of honour where he might perchance have stood with few
equal and none superior to him, one, whose name as a lawyer was
promising to fill the world. That learned Baron’s
name might perhaps have descended to posterity, coupled with the
very greatest of the judicial names this country has ever
boasted; but now, (sorrowfully will many hearts attest it,) in
spite of all the blind flattery of party feeling, and all
attempts to patch the matter up or smooth it over by party
declamation; now;—for and by this Gorham
judgment, will he fall from that pre-eminence, and be found, to
those highest honours, to have forfeited his claim.
Before I leave this part of my subject there is one further
remark I must needs make. This is not the first time that
the people of this country have had cause to look with suspicion
upon the administration of the law, where the interests of the
Church have been affected. There is, I think, a growing
feeling in the world, that, (it may be unadvisedly and
unconsciously in those concerned, still really and practically,)
the Church does not meet with exactly the same measure which
would be dealt out in mere legal construction of documents to a
railway company or a merchant’s clerk. When in the
year 1848, in the Hampden case, the Lord Chief Justice of the
Queen’s Bench of that day reversed the unvarying practice
of his court for 250 years: [46] (if I am mistaken in
the fact, no doubt I shall be corrected,) when Lord Denman
nullified in that case (and expressly from a regard to
consequences;—his own reason, as stated by himself in
his judgment;—) so general and so just a practice as that
when the judges are divided equally in opinion, “the writ
should go,” to give opportunity for further argument, and
consideration by a higher court (that a writ of error, I believe
it is termed, may lie), he did a thing so pernicious, that
Englishmen may well be grieved he should ever have held so high
an office. To throw suspicion on the fountains of justice
is among the greatest wrongs any man can inflict upon his
country. It is high treason against the majesty of
law. It is a teaching of rebellion to all who have the wit
to understand what has been done. It substitutes distrust
even in the rightfully condemned, for the general and generous
confidence even of him who may think or know, in his own case,
the law has erred. Let such a persuasion grow but a little,
and we shall find no more instances of the spirit of him who
said
I
had my trial
And must needs say a noble one: . . .
The law I bear no malice for my death,
It has done, upon the premises, but justice;
whilst “every puny whipster” who thinks himself
aggrieved, will only proclaim “with outstretched
throat,” the impossibility of obtaining equal justice, and
the corruption of the law. No man can doubt it is the
paramount duty of those concerned in its administration to
“abstain from all appearance” of this
“evil,” and give no possible colour to its
existence. In truth, so sacred is the subject I have here
handled, that nothing but the most weighty considerations should
induce us to mention at all the circumstance of so just a rule
having ever been disregarded. These however do exist in
reference to the present matter; and where the question at issue
is the preservation of the true faith in our branch of the Church
of Christ, we dare not omit the notice of any of the dangers
which beset it. We dare not, for peace’ sake, or for
the sake of a worldly expediency, “keep
silence.” We dare not, for fear of casting an
imputation (not, observe, a vague one, but supported by fact and
testimony) on the administration of human law, run the
risk of its being cast upon the truth of God, and the Church of
Christ. Much have these things pressed upon me, in
reference to our present state, and future prospects: and many
times have I weighed them before venturing thus to bring my
thoughts to light. “My heart was hot within me, and
while I was thus musing, the fire kindled, and at the last I
spake with my tongue.” [48]
But it is more than time that I turn from these, however very
important, yet somewhat preliminary considerations, to the more
direct purport of your letter, and to the answer I may be able to
give to the charge contained in it. What this is, your
title-page sufficiently declares: “The want of dogmatic
teaching in the reformed Church of England:” and my answer
is plain and simple: such as you will not quarrel with for want
of distinctness and pertinency, if only I sustain it. I
join issue as to the fact. I maintain we have a rule
of dogmatic teaching in our Church’s constitution on all
those points on which it is essential a Church should have
it. I think, in and by God’s good providence over us,
(and if it be so, you will yourself allow it is a most singular
mark of his gracious favour towards us,) this has been preserved
as to what we ought to teach, though I acknowledge in
practice and in fact, we fall lamentably short of teaching, and
our people of believing according to it. I imagine,
however, you will not charge it as any conclusive argument
against the catholicity of either ourselves, or any branch of the
Church of Christ, that gross and frequent cases of practical
short-comings may be adduced, if it can nevertheless be shown,
that the Church’s rule requires what is right, and, rightly
understood, dogmatically inculcates it.
You may be curious to learn upon what basis I think myself
able to sustain so direct a challenge to the whole principle and
bearing of your second letter; and, strange to say, I know no
one, whose words so aptly enunciate, and give expression to my
argument as your own. You will think, I doubt not you have
disarmed the quotation I am about to make, (which by this time
you anticipate,) by having already brought it forward yourself,
and stated you can no longer rely upon it. But you must
excuse me for not so easily parting with it, and for endeavouring
to prove you right in your earlier view, even against your own
subsequent change of mind. “It is a miserable
matter,” (you say, after having given various authorities
among our ritualists to confirm your view of absolution,)
“it is a miserable matter merely to be able to escape from
condemnation. I am not content to think the interpretation
which I insist upon is but one of many which may or may
not, according to individual caprice or individual ignorance
be held without rebuke by our people, and taught by our
clergy. If any one of the above theories is the true one,
all the rest are false. And are we for ever to remain
disputing? Is there no voice by which we may learn the
truth? I believe that there is a voice, long neglected and
long forgotten, the voice of the Church of England. Let us
listen to her teaching, and we shall find that now, as of old, by
the great grace of God, she does not speak with a doubting or
hesitating tongue.” [50]
This was your opinion at the close of the year 1848, and this
is what I still claim. I am prepared, even against
yourself, to maintain, and I believe I can shew, its
soundness. Do not suppose that I dream of quoting this or a
further passage which I shall have occasion to extract presently,
merely in order to show a discrepancy between what you asserted
then, and what you hold now. I do not desire to cavil with
your right to be inconsistent in search of truth, if that were
all; and I must allow besides such things have “come to
pass in these our days,” between then and now, as may much
diminish our surprise at inconsistency or change of mind in any
one. At any rate, it would be, I am well aware, a most idle
task to endeavour to prove my position in favour of the
dogmatic teaching of the Church of England, merely by convicting
you or any man of inconsistency, and showing that what you think
and say now is different from what you thought and said a year
and a half ago. In all truth this is not my object; but I
cite these passages, because I know not how better, nay, not how
so well to express my own meaning; that I may also comment a
little upon the passages I cite, and your reasons for thinking
the position they take up no longer tenable; and that in so doing
I may add a few words beyond what you said even in 1848, for
believing in their soundness. Let me turn to your
words. You say, “Here though open to the charge of
repetition, I must again lay down the principle upon which alone
we can possibly decide what the judgment of the Church of England really
is; and to which principle we are bound to bring for proof as to
a test every doctrine which we assert or deny.”
Then this principle follows, most clearly
enunciated:—
“We declare, therefore, that the Church of
England now holds, teaches, and insists upon, all things whether
of belief or practice, which she held, taught and insisted on
before the year 1540, unless she has since that time, plainly,
openly and dogmatically asserted the contrary. This we
declare in general. And in particular, as regards that most
important question, the right interpretation of the various
services in our Common Prayer Book, we further add: that
whatsoever we find handed down from the earlier rituals of the
Church of England, and neither limited nor extended in its
meaning by any subsequent canon or article, must be understood to
signify (upon the one) hand fully and entirely all, and (on the
other hand) no more than it signified before the revision of the
ritual.” [51]
* * * * *
“Few persons will deny that the existence of
a doctrine known, acknowledged, and taught in the Church of
England at the beginning of the sixteenth century, coupled with
the fact that no reformation or alteration of that doctrine has
at any time since been made—and therefore that it was
intended to be still known, acknowledged and taught, is strong
evidence by itself that such a doctrine must be
true. The obligation to enquire accurately into it, and if
possible overthrow it, is in the first place, upon the shoulders
of those who are inclined to doubt or to dispute. It will
then be for us to see if it can be defended. One thing only
I am bound to say before I pass on. And it is this: that,
equally on this matter of absolution, as upon all other essential
portions of the One Faith once delivered to the saints, I believe
that the Church of England holds the true and complete doctrine
of the holy gospel, and follows in her practice of it, the
example of the primitive age. Our Church now claims, in
right of her succession, all the ordinary powers and privileges
which the Apostles received from their and her Almighty Lord; now
offers to her children all the means whether in aid of, or as
being necessary to, the salvation of each one which were offered
from the beginning; and now, as of old and ever, either insists
upon the reception, or entreatingly urges the acceptance,
according to their various nature, of all and every of those
means of grace.” [52]
I think I am justified in saying that you admit yourself, by
inference, in your second letter, that if the principle of these
passages can still be sustained, the case and position of the
Church of England will be tenable against the charge of being
without necessary dogmatic teaching. But you explain in
your recent letter that you feel you must give up the soundness
of these views; that you cannot now believe the same things
concerning our Church’s rule of faith. Let me give this
comment in your own words:—
“Here, very probably, some one may object against me my
own language, published rather more than a year ago. I
allude to my book on the doctrine of absolution. Let me
quote it.” Then follows the quotation I have already
made as to our Church retaining the teaching she held previous to
1540, except where expressly repealed; upon which you add:
“When that passage was written, it was written in entire
assurance that every word might be established. I do not
think so now. And with whatever pain I say this, it is not
because my belief has altered from accepting the fixed principle
that all essential Christian truth is one and eternal; and that
every part of the Church-Catholic is bound of necessity to hold
it whole and undefiled. Believing, as at that time I did,
with the strongest confidence and trust that the Church of
England was a living and a sound portion of the one holy Catholic
Church, I could not but assert, as being capable of
undeniable proof, her claims to teach authoritatively and
undeniably every single doctrine of the Catholic faith. If
I searched into her foundations it was with no shadow of fear
lest they should be seen not to be resting on the rock, but much
rather in the undoubting hope that the more she was tested and
examined the more triumphantly she would declare herself to be
divine.
“If the end of long enquiry and consideration has
resulted in disappointed hope, and what seems to be evidence of
the fallacy of former expectations; if I am compelled to own that
the utmost we are justified in declaring seems to be—not that the
Church of England now ‘holds and teaches’ &c.,
but—that the Church of England how suffers and
permits to be held and taught; and again, as to the right
interpretation of the prayer book, not ‘must be
understood,’ but ‘may be understood:’
let none suppose that I have lightly yielded up that ground upon
which alone a minister of the Church of England, as a minister of
the Church Catholic, can stand securely.” [54]
Now, the first observation which hereupon occurs is
this:—you state you can no longer think that ground
tenable; but you do not sufficiently give a reason why you thus
change your mind. I do not say you give no reason,
because I suppose we are to take the whole of your second letter,
as in fact the reason; but I mean, you do not go into the
particulars of the matter, nor in detail state the grounds why
you should think the Church of England does not still appeal to
her doctrine before the year 1540, wherever unrepealed, to supply
the defect or short comings (if any) of her later teaching.
You seem to have condemned her on her practical or
external deficiencies, not as going into and proving her
to have changed her internal rule. Indeed, it seems to me
you have hardly weighed at all, either in asserting or denying
the principle you formerly maintained and now yield up, the
external evidence for its truth. This, perhaps, was
originally not an unnatural omission, since you held the view
co-ordinately with, and as an essential part of, your belief in
the Catholicity of the English Church, not as a proof of it, nor as an
answer to objections. You then so unhesitatingly believed
the Church of England to be “a living and sound portion of
the one holy Catholic Church,” (and were not engaged in
proving any thing about this at that time, your argument
quite allowing you to assume it;) that, as you say, “you
could not but assert her claims to teach authoritatively and
undeniably every single doctrine of the Catholic
faith.” It followed directly as a natural and
necessary consequence from the position you assigned her, that
she must be able so to teach; and, I repeat, you had no
need to do more than assume it, because none of those with whom
you were arguing, denied it; and your point was to show what
followed from this unquestioned statement as to the particular
doctrine you were then treating of, not to give the proofs of it
in detail, if at all. That the Church of England was a true
and living branch of the Church Catholic was therefore your
premiss: that she taught necessarily the one essential Christian
truth, all necessary dogmatic teaching, was your natural and just
inference. And to show what this Christian truth was on
absolution, you referred to the prior teaching of the Church of
England, and of the Church Catholic as received by her before the
reformation. But no wonder, when upon other grounds your
premiss was shaken, the truth (as I still believe it) of
the inference was shaken also in your mind. It could not be
its own proof. If you are no longer certain the Church of
England is a true and living branch, you lose your
evidence, I mean the evidence adduced by you in that treatise,
and on which you were then resting, that she embraces all
necessary dogmatic teaching. But if I can shew by
plain reasoning in the nature of things, or by external proof,
without first assuming her Catholicity, that she has this
rule of faith; that she is linked up to, and holds on by, the
whole of her teaching previous to the reformation, except where
she has “plainly, openly, and dogmatically asserted the
contrary,” I shall have just so much proof to give that she
does not fail in point of dogmatic teaching, and therefore so far
an answer to your difficulty and your enquiry, “What am I
to teach as the faith and doctrines of the English
Church?” If by this process I can make it reasonably
clear that, “by the great grace of God,” the Church
of England has had preserved to her a strict rule by which she
does teach the whole Catholic faith, then shall I meet all the
objection of your recent letter, so far as principle is
concerned, and sustain, as my conclusion, what was
your premiss, that (in so far, at any rate, as her
dogmatic teaching is concerned,) we have no right to doubt her
claims; but that she is still what you so unhesitatingly believed
her to be in 1848, a living portion (though it may be now a
wounded one) of the one holy Catholic Church.
You have touched upon, though without entering into proofs to
sustain it, (which as I have said before, your argument did not
there require,) the principle by which the said dogmatic rule is
to be established; viz. “the Church of England now holds
and insists upon all things, whether of belief or practice, which
she held, taught, and insisted upon before the year 1540, unless
she has since that time plainly, openly, and dogmatically
asserted the contrary.” . . . Again:—“Whatsoever we
find handed down from the earlier rituals of the Church of
England, and neither limited nor extended in its meaning by any
subsequent canon or article, must be understood to signify (on
the one hand) fully and entirely all, and (on the other hand) no
more than it signified before the revision of the
ritual.”
You do not say precisely why it must be so received,
unless we are to understand (a position with which I make no
quarrel) that common sense and the nature of things declare it to
be a self-evident truth, immediately the proposition is
announced. But I venture to think, beyond this strong
support it has other and more particular evidence, and so rests
altogether upon a much wider basis than is overthrown by the
general and sweeping rejection of it in your assertion, that you
do not now think it tenable. It appears to me in the first
place, as I have said, to rest on principles of reason and common
sense, and next to admit of particular proof, that the Church of
England does retain such teaching.
Let me ask you to examine with attention the evidence I am
about to adduce. I would arrange it under the following
heads:—
I. Common sense, and the nature of things.
II. Appeals of our Church to antiquity, and the teaching
of the Church universal, as well as to her own previous
constitutions and canons.
III. Recognition of such previous teaching by the civil
power; if not proving the same point positively, yet at least
shewing negatively that it is not contradicted.
IV. Some confirmation of the above view from
considerations of what the Church of England would deprive herself of,
(which no one has ever supposed her to have done) if the
principle were to be carried out that her existence is to be
dated from the sixteenth century only; and nothing to belong to
her rule of faith but what was then determined, and in words set
down.
I. Surely it is most certain on grounds of abstract
reason and common sense, that things will stand as they are, if
they neither fall to decay of themselves, nor are altered by any
external power. No one pretends that the dogmatic teaching
of a Church will fall to decay of itself. The other
alternative, therefore, is all we have here to consider. I
say then that, of any building, what you do not destroy,
remains. You find such or such a fabric standing. It
is, in your opinion, out of repair, or deformed with unnatural or
unsightly excrescences, which in process of time have overgrown,
or been engrafted upon it. Additions you may conceive them
to be to the original structure, and now, injurious or
inconvenient. You resolve that these, whether accidental or
evilly contrived, shall be removed, and you address yourself to
the task. Surely, your own principle in 1848, that what is
not removed, remains, is most sound: I know not how to consider
it less than axiomatically true. If a tower be taken down
here, or a turret there, a window blocked up on this side, or a
door opened in that, still the foundations remain the same as
ever, unless you absolutely root them up. The basis of the
building, except in such case, cannot be imagined to be moved,
and just so much of the superstructure as you do not throw down,
must stand as heretofore. It may be obscured by something
else; it may be much less noticed, or noticeable, than it has been; it may
be disregarded in the public eye; one whole side of the building
may be clothed in shadow, but yet, if not destroyed, there it
will remain, and remain as an integral part of the building to
sustain its uses, and to be claimed for them when need is by the
owner of the whole, and by his servants at his bidding. And
so in that “city set on a hill,” her foundations are
the same for ever; and, unless the Church of England at the
reformation destroyed the foundations;—save where she may
have “plainly and openly” pulled down any thing which
had before-time been built up;—that which was laid, and
that which was built remains, and is our heritage at this very
day. So great is the absolute and essential difference
between FORMATION and REFORMATION, and such the argument in
favour of your principle in 1848, from abstract reason and the
nature of things! [59a]
But
further, we are not without an abundance of external proof, if I
may so call it, besides this common sense reasoning, shewing that
the Church of England at the reformation, if we gather her
intentions not from opinions of individual reformers, but from
her own authoritative acts, did not mean to adopt a wide and
indiscriminate destruction of her previous teaching, and
did mean to keep all that she did not mark to be
destroyed. This point was the foundation of a large part of
the most learned and able argument of Mr. Badeley before the
Committee of Privy Council, by which he asserted, and as it seems
to me, proved (although the Court appears to have taken
absolutely no notice at all of this part of his speech)
the certain and positive connection of the Church of England with
the previous Church in this country, and with the Church
universal, and this, not only by the links of the same
apostolical succession, but in the maintenance of a connected
doctrine. And the general principle as to antiquity, and
the sense of the Church precedent to the reformation, which Mr.
Badeley laid down expressly with a view to the matter of the suit
in which he was engaged, and in order to apply it immediately to
baptism; that same principle, be it observed, is applicable in
exactly the same way, and the same fulness to every other article
of the faith, unless any where it can be shown that the Church of
England at
the reformation did “plainly, openly, and dogmatically
contradict it.” It would therefore be very much to my
present purpose to cite here nearly the whole of this part of Mr.
Badeley’s speech, but as you know it well, and can easily
refer to it, I shall but extract a few of the more important
passages, where the proofs of this principle being the rule of
the English Church are given.
“I shall next appeal” Mr. Badeley
says, “to antiquity in order to shew more fully that this
doctrine for which I contend,” (of course the immediate
doctrine which Mr. Badeley had in view, was baptismal
regeneration: but his argument reaches, as I have just said, to
the full purpose for which I cite it;) “has always been,
and must necessarily still be, the doctrine of the Church of
England. * * * If there can be any doubt at all about the sense
and meaning of our Church, if it can be supposed by any criticism
or minute construction, that these Articles and Formularies do
leave any question open—do omit in any degree to declare
with certainty the doctrine of the Church, resort must be had not
to the writings of the reformers, not to the opinions of any
individuals, however respectable they may have been; the only
appeal can be to the early Church, and the doctrines which that
Church professed. That is indisputably the standard to
which we are referred, not only by our Prayer Book and our
Homilies, but by those who took the most prominent part in the
reformation in this country, and it is natural that this should
be so, because what was in fact the reformation, and what its
object? My friend, Mr. Turner, the other day, spoke of the
Church of England in 1552, as being then in its infancy: but
according to my understanding, it was then at least more than
1200 years old, for we have evidence of British bishops having
attended some of the earliest councils. Some are supposed
to have been present at the Council of Nicea, and it is
positively stated that three attended the Council of Arles, which
was prior to that of Nicea. The Church of England,
therefore, is an ancient and an apostolic Church, deriving its
succession from the primitive Church, and one and the same
through all ages. The Reformation was no new
formation, not a creation of a new Church, but the
correction and restoration of an old one; it professed only to
repair and reform, not to found or create—and it assumed to
do this, according to the doctrines and usages of the primitive
Church. The reformers well knew, that if they did not stand
upon that ground, they had no resting place for the soles of
their feet; they were fully conscious that if they attempted to
alter the Church any otherwise than according to its ancient
model, it would crumble to pieces altogether, and probably bury
them in its ruins. All they professed, was to strengthen it
where it was decayed, and to strip off those additions, which
have encrusted or grown upon it in the lapse of time, without the
authority of the Scripture, or of primitive tradition; but to
this they declared that they adhered; they bound themselves down
by this rule, and appealed to antiquity for all they did.”
[63]
Then having quoted a passage from Bishop Jewell’s
Apology, appealing to antiquity as our Church’s guide, and shewing
(to use Mr. Badeley’s words) “that the intention of
our reformers in departing from the Church of Rome, was not at
all to depart from the doctrine of the Catholic Church,” he
goes on to cite confirmatory authority to the same point in even
more weighty documents.
“In the preface to the Prayer-book, as well
as in the Articles, we have frequent references to the Fathers
and the Primitive Church. We have the same in the Homilies;
in almost every page they teem with quotations from the Fathers,
and support themselves upon the ancient doctrine and the Catholic
tradition; and therefore, in inquiring into what was the doctrine
of the early Church upon the question now in issue, we are
following precisely that course of inquiry, and appealing to that
tribunal, which was marked out for us by the reformers
themselves. They referred to the primitive doctrine as an
indication of their meaning; and of course, if they had departed
from that, they would have departed from the Church itself,
because the Church, and the faith of the Church, can be but
one.”
* * * * *
“I can show, that at the time of the Reformation there
certainly was no intention to depart; and was no real departure
in any respect from the doctrine of the early Church, on this or
any other matter, certainly not on the Sacrament of Baptism, or
upon the Sacraments generally; AND
WHATEVER WAS NOT ALTERED AT THE PERIOD OF THE REFORMATION,
REMAINS, AND CONTINUES TO BE THE DOCTRINE AND LAW OF THE CHURCH
TO THIS DAY.” [64]
Again,
Mr. Badeley says, “we have authority for looking to
antiquity in one or two public documents which are of importance;
for in the canons which were made in the year 1571, in that very
Convocation which ratified the Thirty-nine Articles, we have this
in the directions to preachers:—
“Imprimis vero videbunt, ne quid unquam
doceant pro concione quod a populo religiose teneri et credi
velint, nisi quod consentaneum sit doctrinæ veteris aut
Novi Testamenti, quodque ex illâ ipsâ
doctrinâ, Catholici Patres et veteres episcopi
collegerint.”—Pp. 100, 101.
There can be no doubt that what the Convocation considered to
stand not with this foundation, they lopped off and pulled
down: what, therefore, they left, of what was in their time so
taught, is to be so taught still; and remains as the
dogmatic teaching of the Church of England.
“Again, we have,” (continues Mr.
Badeley, for I know not how to omit these links in his argument,
so much are they to the purpose of my own,) “we have, in
the directions given to the bishops by the lords of the council
in the year 1582, with a view to their disputations with the
Jesuits and seminary priests, a similar rule laid down.
‘If the latter shall show any ground of Scripture’
(says this order in council), ‘and wrest it to their sense,
you shall call for the interpretation of the old doctors, such as
were before Gregory I., for that in his time began the first
claim of the supremacy, &c.’ So that in these we
have public directions by authority as to the rule to which
parties are to conform,—there is that of Convocation with
reference to the clergy in their preaching, and there is this of
the council with reference to public controversies and disputations; and
therefore there is plenty of authority, as I conceive, for
appealing to the early Church, for the Church and State both send
us to the same source. No doubt it was the case in all the
disputations which were held about the period of the Reformation,
to appeal to primitive doctrine and tradition. In one of
the statutes of Elizabeth (stat. 1 Eliz. c. 1), there is a
direction as to what is to be regarded as heresy, and that is to
be judged by the authority of the first four general councils, or
any of them, and any other general councils which declare it
heresy in the words of Scripture. [66a] We come,
therefore,” (thus Mr. Badeley concludes this part of his
argument) “under such sanction to the ancient Church, and
to primitive and Catholic tradition, and I think we shall see
beyond question that these prove the doctrine of baptism,
&c.” [66b]
What Mr. Badeley cites for the special purpose of his
particular case, I conceive holds good, and may be asserted
precisely in the same way for the whole range of doctrine which
our Church maintains; and with this persuasion it is that I have
so largely cited passages from his most lucid speech. This
part of his argument, though of course limited in its application
by him to the special circumstances in which he stood, and the
case then before the Privy Council, is evidently not
exclusive; and I think proves thus much at least
satisfactorily; that the Church of England at the reformation
never intended for a moment to shut out previous doctrine,
(though she might not actually mention and repeat it,) any more
than she could have intended to shut out previous
history. Whatever may have been said of her,
or for her, since, the idea that she was then a new
Church; making a beginning for herself, creating herself, as it
were, and her doctrine; not being joined to the whole early
Church, and not acknowledging her own previous existence, was
evidently not only never in her mind, but the exact contradictory
was so entirely an essential part of her life and being, that it
is everywhere felt and assumed, and the only wonder is, it is as
much stated as it is.
I have just said that Mr. Badeley advances these proofs of the
character of our Church as to dogmatic teaching for one
particular purpose, and in order to support one specific
doctrine—baptismal regeneration. To that subject he
confines himself in the application of what he had said, and, of
course, most properly; because such only was the subject-matter
in the appeal on which he was pleading; such the doctrine which,
on behalf of his client, the Bishop of Exeter, he was bound to
clear. But what I venture to say generally, from all these
considerations and proofs as advanced by Mr. Badeley, is
this,—that his mode of meeting the attack on the Catholic
doctrine of baptism is precisely the just mode, and the right
mode for us to meet any assault upon the faith of the
Church of England; because those considerations of the nature of
her rule of faith, and those proofs of her appeal to antiquity,
and to the unrepealed dogmas of preceding ages, connecting
herself with them, and showing her mind to retain the same
teaching, are general, and apply not merely to baptism, or to any
one doctrine, but to all our doctrines. And this defence,
as it
appears to me, is not only legitimate but sufficient: at any rate
sufficient until specific exceptions are made and particular
defects named, and proofs given, (if they may be,) of a
contradictory teaching, by reference to the later authoritative
expression of our Church’s mind; a position however which,
as I shall presently show, you do not yourself assert. One
thing further I would here observe before I proceed; that this
line of argument and mode of defence of the Catholic doctrine of
baptism not having been successful in this particular instance,
and with this particular court, (although a reason to stir up all
our energies to show the Church does not and never
will acquiesce in the decision of that court,) affords no
ground to any man to affirm that it has been authoritatively
condemned as an unsound defence, nay, shows not at all that it
might not even be admitted, and succeed in another case.
The court cannot be said to condemn all the arguments on the
losing side, however it may disregard them. The court is
not sitting to try the arguments of counsel, but the general
merits of the case; and no one, I suppose, would say that all the
arguments of every lawyer who may not gain his cause are
judicially pronounced worthless or unsound. What may be
justly said of them appears to be no more than that they are not
accepted as of weight by that court, or, at the most, that there
is an implication of some censure or contempt upon them; but
certainly there is nothing to prevent individuals still believing
in their soundness; nothing to prevent their being advanced again
as occasion may again arise; nothing to prevent them at another
time, before even the same, and, much more, before another tribunal,
being weighed, being allowed, and being successful. [69]
Under
such sanction then it is that we claim the Catholic teaching of
the universal Church, and the teaching of the Church of England
prior to the reformation as our dogmatic teaching still,
in all points save where it may be shewn (if it may) to be since
plainly and expressly contradicted or repealed. And let us
observe, more particularly, to what this principle will
reach. Mr. Badeley’s beautifully connected statement
has given as many grounds to think we know the
Church’s mind upon the matter: it has also touched
upon the injunction of the State looking in the same
direction: (to this point, however, I shall have occasion to
return). But I say at once, observe to how much doctrine
this principle will take us; how much, at the very outset, it
will claim and secure for us. Surely, every matter of
faith embraced in the first four general councils is
retained; for no one I presume will dare to say that the
Church of England at the Reformation repealed, or intended to
repeal, any single article, canon, or doctrine of those four
councils. “Yea, even as it were a thing
unreasonable,” says Hooker, “if in civil affairs the
king (albeit the whole universal body did join with him) should
do any thing by their absolute supreme power for the ordering of
their state at home, in prejudice of any of those ancient laws of
nations which are of force throughout the world, because the
necessary commerce of kingdoms dependeth on them; so in principal
matters belonging to Christian religion, a thing very scandalous
and offensive it must needs be thought, if either kings or laws
should dispose of the affairs of God, without any respect hath to
that which of old time had been reverently thought of throughout
the world, and wherein there is no law of God which forceth us to
swerve from the way wherein so many and so holy ages have
gone. Wherefore, not without good consideration, the very
law itself hath provided,” he continues, quoting the
section of the same act of parliament (1 Eliz. c. 1, § 36,)
already referred to by Mr. Badeley, “‘that judges
ecclesiastical appointed under the king’s commission shall
not adjudge for heresy any thing but that which heretofore hath
been so adjudged by the authority of the canonical Scriptures, or
by the first four general councils, or by some other general
council wherein the same hath been declared heresy by the express
words of the said canonical Scriptures, or as hereafter shall be
termed heresy by the high court of parliament of this realm, with
the assent of the clergy in the convocation.’ By
which words of the law,” Hooker adds as his comment,
“who doth not plainly see how that in one branch of
proceeding by virtue of the king’s supreme authority, the
credit which these four general councils have throughout
all churches evermore had, was judged by the makers of the
foresaid act a just cause wherefore they should be mentioned in
that case as a requisite part of the rule wherewith dominion was
to be limited.” [71]
The admission, then, of the decrees of these four general
councils, which I see not how any man can dispute to be admitted
and received by the reformed Church of England, will surely give
us a certain large, definite, important body of theology
from and by which to teach our people; not perhaps
all that we may want, explicitly set forth, however implicitly
contained, because it was of course not until “emergent
heresies” pressed upon the Church that she saw, or could
see, in what direction her declaratory acts required to be put
forth. But certainly in the adoption of these councils and
their decrees, the Church of England both indicates her love and
reverence for antiquity; and clears herself from all suspicion of
attempting to begin “a new thing” at the reformation;
as well as establishes a wide and satisfactory basis, on which to
rest her further teaching. Can you yourself deny that so
far we build upon a good and sure foundation? Or will you
say that, after all this is but a semblance? that whatever
the ecclesiastical appearance or tendency of these matters may
have been, the erastian current swept them practically
away? Will you say? “Even if I grant you the
first four general councils, yet this is all; and this is
insufficient; at the reformation, whatever her own wish, the
Church was so grievously oppressed by the civil power (as she is
now) that all the further links connecting her with the doctrine
held previously to 1540 were snapped asunder: the enormous
jurisdiction claimed by, and conceded to, and used by, King Henry
VIII. swept away that Catholicity which you are bent to shew, and
which the Church herself might have been glad to
keep.” Will you say? “Whatever may be the
vague expressions of some at that time or afterwards appealing to
antiquity, yet look at the acts of Parliament of that date, and you
will see all this is a delusion, and no real adherence to the
prior doctrine is sustainable.” Even this charge I am
not afraid to meet. I promised to return in order to
consider a little more fully the secular recognition, at the
least, non-condemnation of the principle, that whatever previous
teaching is “not plainly, openly, and dogmatically
contradicted” at the reformation or since, remains to us;
and I will endeavour to fulfil my pledge. I think I shall
be able to show, that whatever claims of an erastian nature might
be made or might be conceded in the sixteenth century (I am not
arguing how great they were), yet they did not reach to the
point, and were not used to the end, you now suppose, but in
God’s good providence over us, left your own principle of
1848 still untouched. By whatever constraint or chance it
may seem to man’s eye to have occurred,—with whatever
view, or by whatever mind devised, there is something where we
should least have expected to find it, in the famous statute
called “The Submission of the Clergy,” so much and
often lately brought under notice (25 Henry VIII. c. 19), which,
if it do not expressly prove the point in hand in favour of the
Catholicity of the English Church, yet at any rate, to my mind,
much supports it; and, at the very least, shows that the law of
that day leaves the matter as it found it; and therefore does not
militate against the position of our Church as it stands and is
maintained in Mr. Badeley’s statement, nor exclude any of
the general arguments from abstract reasoning on the point.
“Hast thou appealed unto Cæsar? unto Cæsar
shalt thou go.”
I turn
to the Submissio Cleri—the statute 25 Hen. VIII. c.
19. The first section recites that several canons have been
made in time past prejudicial to the king’s prerogative as
well as to the laws and statutes of the realm; and thereupon
refers to the petition of the clergy that the king’s
highness with two-and-thirty commissioners may examine, confirm,
or abolish such canons, ordinances, and constitutions. It
provides also that henceforth the clergy shall not enact or
promulge any constitutions or ordinances without the king’s
assent; and that convocations “alway shall be assembled by
authority of the king’s writ.” The second
section empowers the king to name the two-and-thirty
commissioners, and makes provision for the supply of the said
number in case of the death of any of them. It also further
prescribes their duties. Then after sundry enactments in
the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth sections as to the courts and
modes of appeal, and “the restraint of appeals” to
Rome, the seventh section contains a proviso, thus stated, and
commented upon by Lord Coke, in his fourth Institute: “But
by the said act of 25 Henry VIII. their jurisdiction and
power” (i.e. the clergy’s in convocation) “is
much limited and straitened concerning the making new canons; for
they must have both licence to make them, and after they be made,
the royal assent to allow them, before they be put in
execution. But in the end of that act there is an express
proviso that such canons as were made before that act, which be
not contrariant nor repugnant to the king’s prerogative,
the laws statutes or customes of the realm, should be still used
and executed as they were before the making of that act.”
[75] This is Lord Coke’s
comment, and it is much to be noted that he should stop where he
does in citing the words of the proviso; because, as thus given,
no one would entertain a doubt that all previous canons and
ordinances, so far from being abrogated, were by this very act
specially confirmed, except just in so far as they might be found
contrariant or repugnant to the king’s prerogative, or the
laws of the realm. It is manifest, too, that this is no
oversight (lawyers will smile even at the supposition) on the
part of Lord Coke, but that such indeed is his reading of the
proviso; for he immediately applies it to a matter which he
wishes to show was not binding in law before that time, to bar
it, as it were, from claiming under the powers of that
very act, which evidently it could not do, unless that proviso
were understood to confirm precedent canons. “But
before that time,” he continues, “a disme”
(i.e. a tenth) “granted by the clergy at the convocation,
did not binde the clergy before the king’s royal
assent.” The argument of Lord Coke in this place
appears to determine the point, that he so read the proviso, as
to make it absolutely confirmatory, even under the terms of this
very act “for the submission of the clergy and restraint of
appeals,” of all “canons, constitutions, ordinances,
and synodals provincial being already made, which be not
contrariant or repugnant to the laws, statutes, and customes of
this realm, nor to the damage or hurt of the king’s
prerogative royal,” and that these should, as the proviso
directs, “now still be used and executed as they were
afore the making of this act.” I repeat that this
view of the force of the said proviso, and this method of quoting
it, is certainly remarkable—remarkable because there are
further words in the latter part of the section appearing to
qualify the sense, which yet are wholly passed over by Lord Coke,
not merely in his quotation, but actually in his argument.
I mean that his argument touching the previous power of the
clergy to grant a disme, implies his belief that the
general previous powers of the canon law still prevailed
and this, (whether he considered the said disme to infringe the
king’s prerogative or not) shews that the remaining
apparently qualifying words of the proviso are by him advisedly
set aside. Nevertheless, I will here add them, lest, in
spite of such authority for the omission, I should be, or seem to
be, acting unfairly, and not making the most of the adverse
argument. The words I allude to are these: “The
previous canons, constitutions, &c. shall now still be used
and executed as they were afore the making of this act, till
such time as they be viewed, searched or otherwise ordered
and determined by the said two-and-thirty persons, or the
more part of them, according to the tenor, form, and effect
of this present act.” [76] It would no
doubt appear from these words, as well as from Section 2 of the
act, that there was an intention at that period of reviewing the
whole body of the canon law, with a view to the obliteration of
everything in the previous enactments which might appear to those
commissioners unsound or inconvenient. This design,
however, was never carried into effect. I know not how to
regard it as other than a special mark of God’s great mercy
and gracious goodness to this branch of his Church that it was
frustrated. Perhaps it is not quite clear that the powers
of these commissioners were intended directly to touch doctrine,
or to reach beyond the abolition of canons and constitutions
appearing to be contrariant to the king’s prerogative, or
repugnant to the laws and customs of the realm, though I think
the terms employed embrace a wider field, and at any rate in the
temper of that day, might very probably have been understood and
used to a wider purpose. “Great and manifold”
indeed would have been the perils attendant on so sweeping a
reformation of all the previous doctrine and discipline received
by the English Church; and not without a trembling thankfulness
as well as, to my mind, a heart-felt acknowledgment of the divine
mercy, are we to think of our escape from so great a
danger. To have had only so much of the laws and usages,
doctrine and discipline of the primitive Church, or of the
distinctive teaching of our own Church previous to the passing of
this act, as such a board of commissioners might have thought
good to leave us, would indeed have been to be put to the utmost
hazard as to the measure of dogmatic teaching left us at all, and
to the greatest risk of our being cut off from Catholic antiquity
altogether. Of course even then, the mere act of
parliament, and its authority to the commission could not have
effected this. The Church might, theoretically at any rate,
have broken from the bondage, and severing her connexion with the
State at whatever cost, have preserved her purity and freedom. [78a] But, considering how little
likely any such resistance appears to have been, if that
commission’s work had been carried out, we may well thank
“the Lord our defence,” that in another mode we were
delivered from the danger; and that although in the reign of King
Edward VI. the two and thirty persons (at any rate one and thirty
of them) were appointed, yet they never accomplished the review
in question. “It is not necessary,” says Mr.
Gladstone, “to discuss the wisdom or propriety of this
petition of the clergy,” (i.e. to have such a commission
appointed) “since the enactments passed in consequence of
it never took final effect; and however material they may be as
illustrating the spirit and tendencies of the day, they have not
in any direct manner entered into the constitution of the English
Church.” [78b] “The review of the laws
ecclesiastical, indeed,” he says again in a further
passage, “has no longer any effect for us, as the scheme
ultimately failed of effect, and has now no legal or practical
being.” [78c] It is not, indeed, that the
whole act is repealed. As we well know this is not the
case. It was repealed by the 1 & 2 Philip and
Mary, but revived by the 1 Eliz. c. 1, so that, if it bind some
things upon us now which the Church might wish otherwise, we yet
have the
advantage of that proviso in its last section, establishing
previous canons and constitutions of the Church of England, (with
the exception of such as may be contrariant to the king’s
prerogative, or repugnant to the laws,) until a
contingency should arise, which has never been fulfilled.
That it never was fulfilled, may perhaps explain Lord
Coke’s comment upon the proviso in question as an absolute
assertion of the previous canon law, and his having apparently
passed over as entire surplusage the, at first sight, qualifying
words with which it concludes. And thus we may see there is
an actual statute of the realm declaring, however
unintentionally, yet really and practically, the authority, so
far as statutes can declare it, of that very rule of the
Church’s teaching previous to 1540, which you yourself so
happily, as it seems to me, explained and enforced in 1848.
Thus the very act of parliament, and the very proviso in it which
threatened to be the destruction of the Catholic character of our
Church, (i.e. if those commissioners had done the work
contemplated,) become not only a witness in its favour, but
actually declaratory by law of its connection with the Church
previously existing. Henry VIII., and his act “for
the submission of the clergy,” become the one,—really
“Defender of the Faith,” and the other,—so far
as the temporality can effect it, absolutely a charter, securing
the Church’s dogmatic teaching by legally binding upon us
the general body of the canons and constitutions, ordinances and
synodals provincial of the previous ages. Surely we should
be slow to say it is a straining of the eye of faith if herein it
seems to see an accomplishment of the prophet’s word,
“No weapon that is formed against Thee shall prosper, and every
tongue that shall rise against Thee in judgment, Thou shalt
condemn: This is the heritage of the servants of the
Lord.”
I have spoken of the proviso in this act of parliament (25
Hen. VIII. c. 19) as confirming generally the canons precedent to
its enactment. Of course I have not forgotten that the
statute itself makes two exceptions, or rather, excepts two
classes of canons and constitutions from that confirmation.
1. Such as may be “contrariant or repugnant to the laws and
customes of the realm.” 2. Such as may be “to
the damage or hurt of the king’s prerogative
royal.” It may be well to pause a few moments, just
to point out, though it is so plain it will require only to be
mentioned to be allowed, that these limitations in no wise affect
the argument as to the dogmatic teaching of the Church on
doctrine. They point evidently to the claims of the papacy,
and the powers of the supremacy. Indirectly, no doubt, the
question of the supremacy may come to affect doctrine, as
we plainly see at this time, but I mean that, as to previous
canons upon doctrine, properly so called, these limitations of
the act do not touch our assertion, that they remain as they
were, except they may be shown to be plainly and openly
repealed. Thus the two exceptions made have no bearing upon
those great doctrinal points, whereon you and I alike desiderate
dogmatic teaching; for no man will contend that the doctrine of
the Church Catholic on baptism, on justification, on
confirmation, on the holy eucharist, or on absolution, though
carried ever so far, will in any wise clash with the king’s
prerogative, (“that only prerogative which we see
to have been given always to all godly princes in Holy Scriptures
by God himself:”) nor are we asking that any doctrine shall
be received which may be, if it be, repugnant to the laws
and customs of the realm. All that we assert is, that where
previous canons be not so, (and we fully believe those for which
we contend do not come into collision with either law or
prerogative at all,) and where the Church has not herself
directly annulled them, there these same doctrines remain, as
they have ever been received by the Church Catholic, and by the
Church of England as a branch thereof;—as indeed she has,
and had received them from primitive times and sources;—as
she had accepted, guarded, and enforced them prior to the year
1540.
Of course in matters of law and legal construction I desire to
speak with all deference and submission. Here, less than
any where, should I wish to argue with over-confidence. I
trust I shall not be doing so, if I sum up this part of my
argument by saying, that it appears to me we are entitled to
believe that the proviso in the 25 Henry VIII. c. 19 (the
condition stated in the “until,” &c. never having
been fulfilled), either actually asserts the force of the general
body of previous canons and constitutions of the Church of
England; or, at any rate, and at the very least, that it offers
no bar, even secularly, to the general reasons as stated before,
from common sense and the nature of things, as well as from the
Church’s own appeals to previous teaching that those canons
must remain in force, and that, to use again Mr. Badeley’s
words: “Whatever was not altered at the period of the
Reformation, remains and continues to be the
doctrine and law of the Church to this day.” [82]
IV. I have said that there appears to be another
confirmation of this view, from the consideration of what the
Church of England would deprive herself of, if the contrary
principle were to be carried out, and her existence dated only
from the sixteenth century, and if it were ruled that nothing
could belong to her faith and doctrine, but what was then
determined and in words set down. It will not be necessary
to enlarge upon this topic, but a few instances it may be well to
give.
What then could we say is the teaching of our Church upon the
inspiration of Scripture, if we had no appeal to ancient law,
usage, or belief? The whole, which it was thought necessary
to declare upon this matter at the reformation, is contained in
the sixth Article, and that deals not with the inspiration of
Scripture at all, a point not in dispute, but with its
sufficiency, as containing all things necessary to salvation, as
opposed to a particular view of tradition. That article
also enumerates the canonical books, and speaks of their
“authority;” (the Church also, we may
remember, is said to have “authority,” in
another article, but many who assent to that would scruple
perhaps to say they believe in her inspiration); and I do not
think any man can say that there is in the article in question
any declaration either that those books which are canonical are
inspired, or those which are uncanonical are uninspired; not of
course, in the least, that it was intended to throw a
doubt upon the inspiration of the Scriptures, but that the
articles, and even the formularies of the Church of England were
not drawn up to declare all points of belief, because the Church
unhesitatingly threw herself upon all previous doctrine, except
where in any particular case she saw cause to alter, correct, or
repeal. Just in the same way consider many other
points. What strict belief should we have, upon the other
hypothesis, as to the existence and power of evil spirits; or the
eternity of punishment; or what rule for the observance of the
Lord’s Day (save just as any other holy-day); or what mode
of ascertaining the Church’s mind upon very many other
subjects which have arisen or may arise, especially with regard
to the pantheistic tendencies and theories of modern times, not
treated of because utterly unknown and uncontemplated in the
sixteenth century, if we were tied down to the mere wording of
the reformation documents, but which are all of them capable of
refutation in the broad expanse of doctrine preserved from the
beginning! It will, I think, be plain to any one who will
pursue this subject into its details, that the connexion of our
Church with the Church previous to the reformation, is a fact
necessarily to be assumed by us all, unless we would bring the
whole question of her doctrine into a manifestly false
position. To suppose this connexion to be wholly dissolved,
is in truth such an evident reductio ad absurdum, as amounts to a
full proof that no party of men, I do not say of great ability,
but of an ordinary reason, could have intended to adopt that
theory. Therefore it is impossible to believe that our
reformers, in drawing up articles of religion, “to avoid
diversities of opinions, and for the establishing of consent
touching true religion,” and which treated of course of the
diversities which then prevailed; and in putting forth practical
offices of devotion, could, I say, have designed to ignore all
that previous body of doctrine, which happened not to come into
direct mention in those documents. If they had not purposed
to retain the provincial ordinances of their own country, they
might be expected plainly to have said so; but even if they had
done this, they must have cast themselves upon the general
teaching of the Church Universal, in a manner from which after
all we should have nothing to fear, or, they would have left the
Church they were reforming in such a bareness and nakedness of
doctrine altogether, as no opponent of the Catholic character of
our Church has ever pretended to imagine or assert. On this
ground therefore, once more, I cannot but believe that the
conclusion which you held and so lucidly expressed in 1848 is
tenable and sound; and therefore that what we are still bound to
teach, is the exclusive doctrine of the Church Catholic, unless
the further explications on any matter at the reformation render
it not merely ambiguous, as far as the documents of the
reformation are themselves concerned, (this is insufficient to
harm us, and nothing to the purpose,) but positively heretical,
and absolutely contrariant to “the faith once delivered to
the saints.”
You will see what I mean by saying that mere ambiguity in our
reformation documents will not harm us, is this, that we have a
prior and superior rule to appeal to, (if the preceding argument
be sound,) by which such ambiguity will be corrected. No
one pretends there can be any hurtful ambiguity or
insufficiency in the connected teaching of the Church Catholic;
and therefore wheresoever we may take refuge in that to cover any
omissions or defects, if such there be, on essential doctrine in
our later rule, we shall take no damage. The only thing
which would really harm us, would be absolute contradiction of
the truth, or positive assertion that such or such essential
points were intended to be left vague and ambiguous. But
this would be harmful, because in fact such declarations would
not be merely declarations of vagueness or ambiguity, but would
be heresy; would not be to assert, of two conflicting doctrines,
that the Church teaches both, but, in fact, to rule that
she teaches neither. No one however will, I think,
pretend to say that the Church of England has said any where, in
so many words, that she means to leave open such or such a
doctrine, which the Church Catholic has closed. Perhaps you
will say, “Not in so many words:—but by inference she
does it; by her undecided manner where she has dealt with the
topic, by the laxity which her words too evidently permit, by the
known bias and opinions of many of those who framed
them.” This, however, is just what I have been saying
amounts to nothing against the previous unrepealed doctrine to
which she is to be referred, and the consent of Catholic
antiquity, by which she is really bound. I do assert
such a repeal, if it be no more, is no repeal at
all. No statute law can be so set aside, and
assuredly not this, the law of Christ and his Church. If,
indeed, we had only what the Reformation left us; if we
were constrained to think all needful doctrine was there treated,
and fully treated of; if any document of authority of that period
had declared that no previous doctrine was admissible, unless
then repeated and specially recognized; that nothing was
important as a matter of faith beyond what the writings of that
time included in their summaries, or embraced in their
definitions; if the reformation had thus pronounced itself
aὐτάpχης, and thus
separated its Church and doctrine from primitive antiquity and
the faith of Christendom, then indeed should we see that we were
“in evil case,” to be required “to make
bricks,” and yet to have “no straw given
us.” But, since there is no such document, and no
plausible evidence of even any such design, we trust we may put
aside all fear that we are in this dilemma, and still build up
our doctrine upon the sure foundation of “that which hath
been from the beginning.”
Will you say? “I allow you have the old teaching upon
points not mentioned at the reformation, but on no others: where
any thing is treated of at all, it is definitely settled by
whatever is set down; and thereupon no regard must be paid to any
complement of doctrine derived from earlier
teaching.” I answer, on what authority are we to
receive this arbitrary distinction? Surely not upon the
shewing of any direct evidence: if so, produce it. Not on
the implied injunction or animus of the Church at the
reformation, for she is full of appeals to precedent teaching on
all points. Not on that of the state, for, as I have been
shewing, at the very least, and if it do not enjoin the direct
contrary, it enforces no such prohibition. And if the
reformers of the ecclesiastical polity of that day intended any such
restriction in their appeals to earlier times, (which I do not
think they did) yet in that case, as it appears to me, God has
overruled their intention, and brought to nought their counsel,
by their having left no record to bind any man’s conscience
in the Church of England to such a denial of Catholic
theology. And who shall say, if they
“intended to include” but “did not
include”, the latitudinarian rule; [87] if these things be so indeed, it was
not for this very purpose they have fallen out after such a
fashion; that even after so many practical abuses as we know have
crept in among us, after so many years when the ancient landmarks
have been well nigh removed from sight, after so much deadness of
heart among mere formal religionists, and so much running after
novelties among the more earnest, enthusiastic, or self-willed,
after all these things, and after so long a period of darkness on
the land, yet now when there has been again a brightening, an
awakening, “a zeal” more “according to
knowledge,” a regard to antiquity, and a longing for the
religion of apostles and apostolic men of old time, that now we
might indeed have that to fall back upon which should
prove our safety: might find the landmarks were only buried, not
removed: might experience indeed and in truth that
“heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the
morning,” and might in that morning’s light be able
to clear the path again which leadeth “into all
truth,” and so walk onward into the “bright shining
of the perfect day.”
Here too you will perceive why I said in the early part of this
letter that it was important to state plainly what it was
to which I had committed myself with respect to the animus of the
reformers, and that this matter of intention being clearly
understood, would be found to have a necessary bearing upon our
present subject as we proceeded. If I had asserted the
authority of the animus of the reformers to explain the meaning
of the documents they put forth, interminable questions might be
raised as to the subjects on which there could or could not be
considered enough of ambiguity to allow the appeal to the
previous Church. But, as I have before explained, not any
where intending to assert that the sense of those documents was
to be determined by the intentions or opinions of their framers,
I trust I am in no dilemma here when I cannot admit the animus of
the reformers, even if it were proved to have been to exclude
such appeals, to be a reason for their exclusion. Even if
the animus of ever so large a body of them could be absolutely
shewn to have been to conciliate all parties by leaving open
questions on essential doctrines in the formularies they put
forth; if even they believed of themselves they had attained this
end, yet as they forgot (if we may use the term) to break asunder
the bond which connected the Church of England at that date with
herself in the preceding ages, and with the Church Catholic, they
left us all we want, to maintain the one faith once delivered,
the faith of Christ our Lord, and of his Church from the
beginning. If this result came by inadvertence, (as perhaps
they might say) but of God’s great mercy, and the
stretching forth of his arm over us, (as I should affirm) i.e.
not by the oversight of man, but by the overseeing of God, still,
any way, the rule of a Catholic theology has been retained, and
their counsel has been brought to nought, so as merely to give
us, as perhaps I may allow, from one point of view the
semblance, but in no wise the reality of a lax rule
of faith.
There is one argument indeed which, if it could be supported,
might prove the rule to be really lax. I mean if it might
be maintained with truth, that there are declarations in our
articles, or doctrines in our formularies not merely ambiguous,
or less clearly defined on the Catholic side than we might wish,
but actually repugnant to the faith and contradictory to
it. Of course this would be a fatal objection to the whole
line of argument I have been using; for it would show, so far at
any rate, a repeal of the previous doctrine, and preclude our
gaining that reference to it on which I have been
insisting. But I shall need take no great time or toil to
show that this is not the case. You grant me the point
yourself, not merely in your treatise on absolution, in 1848, but
in the very letter to which I am now replying. Thus you
concede it in the passage already quoted, and even in the very
charge you make—“I am compelled to own that the
utmost we are justified in declaring seems to be—not that
the Church of England now ‘holds and teaches,
&c.;’ but—that the Church of England now
suffers and permits to be held and taught; and again, as
to the right interpretation of the Prayer Book, not
‘must be understood,’ but ‘may be
understood,’ to mean all that was meant before the year
1540.” [89] Your charge against the present state of
the Church, you will observe is no more than that
questions are left open; it is not that heresy is exclusively
maintained or enforced. Again, to the same purport are the
following passages: “Remember, I am in no degree
withdrawing from the full extent of the assertion, repeated more
than once, that the Church of England leaves ‘open’
so many deep and important questions.” [90a] So, in another passage, where
you speak of the Eucharistic sacrifice—“Again I
remind you that I am very far from saying now that the Catholic
doctrine is denied and repudiated . . . for I have for many years
taught (and as you know, have lately published in a sermon) that
in the blessed Eucharist the body and the blood of our Lord are
truly offered as a propitiatory sacrifice for the living and the
dead.” [90b] It is plain you do not think
this denied by the English Church; but your complaint is, that
the articles and liturgy do not peremptorily enforce it.
Again, in commenting upon the “real presence,” and
the words of the Catechism, that the body and blood are verily
and indeed taken and received by the faithful, you say, “At
the risk of weary repetition, let me once more say, that of
course this place of the Catechism does not assert that the body
and blood of Christ are not verily and indeed taken by all; and
if there were in other places of our formularies anything even
approaching to a statement of the reality of the presence of our
blessed Lord in the consecrated bread and wine, independently of any
qualifications or dispositions in the soul of the receiver, we
might be able to show at once and distinctly that these passages
in the liturgy and catechism cannot justly mean what they are
generally brought forward to prove.” [91] I need not multiply quotations on
this head, though I believe I have not nearly exhausted the
passages I might cite. In short, your whole letter merely
charges the heresy of “open questions” upon our
Church, not the heresy of our being forbidden on any point to
teach the catholic truth. And I say again, if this be all,
we fall back at once upon your own former principle, though now
by you abandoned and forsaken. We say, that we are not left
to these the documents of the reformation alone, and therefore,
if there are in them deficiencies merely negative, which is all
your charge, we can supply the necessary teaching from those
deeper wells of truth from which, whether intentionally or
otherwise, the promoters and managers of the reformation have not
debarred us. Neither the Church nor State enactments
hinder, as I contend, this appeal; and observe, if we
MAY make it, we MUST. We are not at liberty to use
it if we please, and discard it if we please, for it is
“the voice of the Church of
England,”—a voice, as I firmly believe, which,
if duly listened for, and scrupulously obeyed, will clear up
every open question which the Church Catholic demands should be
cleared up, and will answer every charge which a shallow
observation of only the later documents, of the reformation,
might bring against us. So fair and strong from these considerations do the grounds of hope and confidence
appear, that I am tempted to paraphrase, though in a
contradictory sense, one of the most despairing pages of your
letter. You argue, “It is not necessary to pretend to
know the dealings of Almighty God with men and nations so
accurately, as to attempt to lay one’s finger upon the one,
two, or three special acts which may avail to cut off any portion
of the one holy Catholic Church;” [92a] and then you further bid us think
whether with us the actual cutting off may not have been at the
reformation, although a certain life may have been found for a
time even in the severed limb. I am not concerned indeed to
deny that there may have been much in the reformation to wound
the branch; but I also maintain that its connection with the
parent stem never having been severed, the life remains, and the
wound may be wholly healed. [92b] ‘As
regards the Church of England in particular, it may be that the
so-called reformation contained—perhaps unknown to the
original promoters of it’—precious
‘seeds’ of good ‘to bring in a certain though
slow’ revival of all vital powers weakened by so great a
shock; ‘and that then either’ old principles were
secretly preserved, which in their after development would most surely avail
to the restoration of all essential truths, or new principles
were, unintentionally perhaps, so guarded and circumscribed that
‘the gradual course of time,’ as they came to be
applied, would show them to be harmless. ‘Or, once
more, it may be with portions of the Church Catholic as with the
vine her mysterious type. “I am the vine, ye are the
branches,” were the words of our blessed Lord, speaking of
his body the Church, of which he is himself the Head. And
we may well conceive how a branch,’ partially injured by
some disease or canker, may suffer from the pruning-knife which
endeavours to eradicate it; and yet in a period,—longer or
shorter, as the case may be,—never having been severed from
the stem, but deriving from IT the
fulness of its life and sap, may wholly recover from the wound
which the knife has made, and after a time flourish again in its
pristine vigour, even as in its days of early youth, before any
corruption had laid hold upon it, and bring forth fruit again an
hundredfold for its master’s use; though requiring time to
heal its wound, yet certain to be restored, if no fresh accident
befall it, because of its union with the parent tree.’
I know
well, analogies and similitudes may be made on all sides, and in
support of almost anything. I know also, however useful as
illustrations to clear our meaning, and to answer objections
taken in limine, yet how little they can be relied upon as
proofs: but I venture upon this antagonistic paraphrase of your
illustration, that I may ask the question, whether perchance the
view sustained by mine may not as probably be the truth as that
sustained by your’s; and that I may express my trust we
shall none of us be led astray from doing all that duty bids us
do, in the tendance of our branch of the vine, by any such
similitudes as those you have advanced, if the principle of your
letter may be supposed to have found an answer; if, upon the
grounds I have endeavoured to draw out, we may claim our union
with the parent tree; in short, if the fact of the severance of
the reformed Church of England from the Church Catholic be not
made out beyond question or dispute. Until it be so proved,
I at any rate feel it to be my duty stedfastly to cleave
to her; not being blind to practical shortcomings, not refusing
to acknowledge the dangers which beset her, even to the extent
that she may so bend to the spirit of the world, and
recognize the erastian liberalism of this day and age, that she
may, instead of rising up again, be wofully and entirely cast
down, but certainly not seeing that God hath so cast her down as
yet. I do not, and I cannot take this as proved, or as done
already, and therefore cannot accept the statements of your
letter, nor the conclusions to which they lead. For you
ought to have proved in detail, not that our Church’s
articles or formularies since the middle of the sixteenth
century, taken by themselves, or interpreted by cotemporary
opinions, admit a double meaning, but that they actually
exclude the sense and meaning of the Church previous to
1540; because if they do less than this, the admission in
themselves of open questions (if it be so) is qualified and
overruled by the earlier unexcluded dogmatic teaching; and I say
it boldly, in spite of the scorn and contumely with which the
liberalism of the day will greet such a sentiment, the present
Church of England must thereby be understood to require
all those ancient dogmas to be enforced, as the ONE ONLY TRUE SENSE of documents,
themselves perhaps, by themselves, capable of a doubtful
interpretation. Nothing less than the having
“plainly, openly, and dogmatically asserted the
contrary” will annul this obligation, and herein, as I
believe, and as I have endeavoured now to show, will be found, in
God’s providence, the safeguard and shield which He has
thrown over this branch of his Church,—a safeguard and a
shield, under the which we may rest a little while, “until
this tyranny be overpast,” until she shall be able not
merely to claim, but again to use, “the whole
armour of God,” and convince the world practically of her
teaching as well as holding “the Catholic
faith whole and undefiled.” I do not, I dare not,
shrink from the thought that further proof, shall I say trial, on
this point awaits us. In God’s time and in
God’s way I expect it. Humbly and reverently I trust
I may add, “Let it come.” Perhaps it may be
nearer than we think; for it is evident those who agree with me
at all in the defence I have here set up against the charge of
want of dogmatic teaching, must, in these days, as the assault
upon catholic truth grows fiercer, be even more and more
distinct, earnest, and plain-spoken in its assertion. As we
claim, so will we, if it please God, more and more use the
ancient faith, whether men “will hear, or whether they will
forbear.” Not indeed as a process of tentation upon
the Church, but as a simple matter of duty, and as a safeguard to
our people, lest unawares, and step by step, they “forfeit
all their creed.” But this, one way or another, is
likely to bring us to a trial, and to a very practical solution
of the questions raised, perhaps I may say somewhat
speculatively, in your letter. If the Church of England
then “will not endure sound doctrine,” let her say
so. It may be we shall have immediately to distinguish
between the voice of the Church and the voice of the
establishment; but at any rate, let the Church speak out.
Our perils are too great and too pressing on the side of
acquiescence in heresy, to give us any option now as to speaking
or keeping silence. Will you tell me that the bishops of
our Church neither hold nor will tolerate these ancient
doctrines; that they will soon settle this matter, “make a
short work,” speak out, and show us the true Anglican
faith; and drive from the Church of England those whose walk and
whose heart are with a faith older than three hundred
years? God forbid that I should sin against them by
believing you. God forbid that I should believe any such
thing, unless I live to see it. But if it should be
so indeed; if the erastianism and latitudinarianism of the day
should so have eaten, or should ever so eat their
way into the heart of our episcopate, that such assertion of our
Church’s catholicity, such clinging to ancient doctrine,
such walking with the Church of the Apostles, and the
religion derived in uninterrupted succession from them, shall be
no longer endured among us, then let them know assuredly that
they who bring this to pass,—they who drive the matter to
such a point,—they who take the aggressive against sound
doctrine, and ancient faith, will be responsible for that which
shall follow, and will excite and evoke a spirit, with the which
they and all their’s will in vain contend. They will
do that which will provoke, not dribbling secessions, here a few
and there a few, but that which, setting up the mark of Jeroboam
in the land, as the symbol and banner of the establishment, will
drive from it and them all the true priesthood and
really Church feeling of the country. Then will there be,
either a return to the Roman communion such as “neither
their fathers nor they” have ever dreamed of, or a free
Episcopacy, which shall cast aside the establishment as an
“accursed thing,” throw itself upon Christendom for
communion, and appeal to a general council of Christendom for
approval, and, shaking to the very centre the whole religion of
this country, shall gather into its own bosom, I will not say all
that is good and holy, but all that is good and holy, and has
with this goodness and this holiness any distinctive Church
knowledge or Church feeling. Men who calculate
consequences, if there be such, may well ponder these things,
before they tremble “at the fear of man,” or think
any way safer than the old paths, and the ancient faith.
Let no man say I threaten wrongly, or threaten vainly. I
desire not to threaten at all; but I know what I write; and
truly, “is there not a cause?” Let all, friends and
foes alike, know and well weigh on what a sea they are now
embarked. Let them be prepared for what must come, if there
be anything like faint-heartedness or cowardice among us,
anything like treason to the Catholic faith in those in high
place. Let it be known well that we, who are firmest and
plainest in declaring the duty of cleaving to the Church of
England now, and so are fighting her battle against you, and
those like you, who take the easier perhaps, at any rate the
shorter, road to escape from her embarrassments, that we do not
pretend if the difficulty should arise that we cannot
remain members of the English Church, and members of the Church
catholic at the same time, we can hesitate as to our duty.
Neither can we unlearn all that we have learned from the ancient
fountain-heads of doctrine, and believe the catholic faith to be
a thing of yesterday, or square it by the liberal theories of
modern schools. We have drunk too deeply from the
well-heads of antiquity for this to be possible. We can no
more go back and believe the catholic truths we have imbibed to
be no more than superstitious inventions and human figments, than
we could return to the system of Ptolemy, and believe this earth
to be the centre round which the sun and the stars revolve.
These things we cannot do; but certainly we can, in mind and
theory, and we do in fact, separate the ideas of the
Church and the establishment, and can contemplate
the possible arrival of a time and circumstance when the one must
be kept to at the expense of the total abnegation of the
other. And here foreseeing, we also count the cost.
We compute whether we be able, “with ten thousand, to meet him
that cometh against us with twenty thousand,” and in His
name, and with His presence, who has promised to be “with
His Church always,” we are not fearful, and shall not be
careful if we must let the establishment go. We sit down to
“build our tower,” not without considering whether we
have “sufficient to finish;” and again, in the riches
of His grace, we deem we have. We would make it
“after the pattern which has been showed us,” and
know then full well it will be a building which shall be able to
shelter, and an ark which shall be able to save, all that are
committed to us, all who will take refuge in it. To attain
this, we are ready to sacrifice all but truth, to fight against
all but God!
But I say once more, our perils are too great at the present
time to allow of silence in the Church, to admit of any
compromise or uncertainty, when inquisition is made as to what we
hold, or teach our people. Let the Church of England speak,
and speak unequivocally, and we shall know what to think.
Let her courts, duly constituted, and especially her synods if
they may meet, pronounce what she will bear, and what she will
not bear; what she will recognize as her own with a
mother’s love; what she will repudiate and put from her
with a step-mother’s aversion. Then shall we know our
duties, and see our way. Then perchance will it be found
the State has reckoned unwarily, and counted upon too much.
Then, if it try to bind her with the chains of the spirit
of the day, may it be seen of all men that they are but as
“green withs,” or “as threads of tow touched by
the fire,” to bind the mighty. Even should the State
prevail in mere numbers, who shall say but there shall
be found some high in authority, and endowed with the powers of
the Apostolate, who will stand “valiantly for the
truth,” and “be of good courage, and behave
themselves valiantly for their people, and for the cities of
their God,” and use their powers, and the authority
received from Christ, to shake, as I have said, the establishment
to its fall, if there be any effort, by means of it, to take from
us “one jot or tittle” of the faith? If
they do this, even but six, or three, or two, or one among
them, with the Creeds and Christendom to back them, surely
we shall know what to do also. If they do not, we
shall again know both what to think and what to do! Surely
then God will “make a way under us for to go,” and at
his word alone, we shall go forth; not certainly, as I
should go forth now, were I to follow your steps, and remove from
the place where He has cast my lot, with no light upon my path,
no assurance, no conviction, no belief that I was proceeding
under his guidance, or doing that which is according to his
will. Rather, I cannot but adopt, and with it I will
conclude this part of my present subject, the noble profession of
thankful confidence made by yourself at the close of your
treatise on absolution, where, acknowledging the singular
preservation to us of a very minute particular, (involving, as
you considered, important doctrine,) even a single letter in one
of our rubrics, you thus expressed yourself:—
“The more I consider this circumstance, with
the more heartfelt thankfulness and confidence do I look upon it
as a token among many hardly to be unseen of the care and guiding
with which the Almighty Head of the Universal Church ceaselessly
has
guarded, to his own wise ends and purposes, this our Church of
England. These considerations, and such as these, bring
their especial comfort. Some men, perhaps, may be
indifferent about them. For myself, at one time in one
thing, and at another in another, light and trivial as alone or
singly they may or might have been together in their accumulation
they supply—not arguments merely, for that in comparison
would be a poor result, but—patience, in days of dispute
and difficulty, in days of trial and obloquy and reproach;
motives, again, to exertion and untiring labour in our
Church’s cause; constant confirmation of the sacred truths
which I believe she holds; and above all, with God’s most
gracious help, an undoubting determination to endeavour by all
means, and in every possible way, under her own holy shadow and
protection, still and for ever to defend her against avowed
enemies from without, and against mistaken friends within.”
[101]
Although these remarks have extended far beyond the length
which I contemplated when I began them, I am unwilling to bring
my letter to a close without adverting to one or two points
further, connected with the whole subject of which I have been
treating, and the prospects which are before us. I have
said, “I think we have the time, and I trust we have
the means, effectually, though it may be gradually, to vindicate
our Church.” [102] You may ask,
perhaps, “What are these means?” You may say,
“Deeply as many may feel the present crisis; earnest as
they are to disclaim the decision of the Judicial Committee, that
Mr. Gorham is fit to hold a benefice with cure of souls in the
Church of England; determined as they may be to leave nothing
undone which may be done to shake off the grasp of state
interference with her spiritual rights and jurisdiction; yet what
can they do more than uselessly agitate, or hopelessly
complain? I know well,” you may say, “you are
looking to the revival of the Church’s synodical functions;
to the restoration of her convocation, to set all these matters
right; to clear her doctrine, and consolidate her freedom.
But these things are too uncertain and too distant to be
accounted of. If you have nothing nearer and more direct
than these, or such hopes as these for remedies, I can but reckon
them ‘as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.’
You will sooner be committed to the denial of the whole faith,
than regain from the ingrained superstitious erastianism of this
day and this people, the slightest approach to ‘the
churchmen’ being permitted in their convocation to
‘do the work which is proper unto them.’”
Now, I do not think this, yet I will not argue it:—but will
rather come to something nearer and more direct as, at any rate,
the beginning of a remedy. This, then I say, is
nearer:—direct to clear ourselves individually from blame,
and, it may be, competent in time to work for us an efficient
cure either with or without the consent of the State, as God
in his providence shall order. This I say:—to break
communion with the Archbishop, and with those who uphold him in
upholding the judgment of the Privy Council. This is a
course open to us all; and is a direct course towards one part,
at any rate, of our objects—the freeing ourselves from
blame. Perilous, however, as our position is, I do not say
the time has come for this to be done as yet; much less that
I am competent to decide when such time shall have
arrived. But I mention the thought, that you may perceive
men’s minds are not without the suggestion of something
immediate, practical, and real. However fearful the thought
of such a course; however loth we may be to contemplate it;
however startling it may sound in many ears to hear a priest in
the Church of England speak such words, as of cutting himself off
from communion with the primate of his Church; yet it is so far
more fearful to think of that Church coming to deny an article of
the creed, falling into such a condition that no Christian Church
in ancient times would have communicated with her; (and this, I
will plainly say, is what I think we are in danger of coming to,
and shall come to if we acquiesce in the present state of things;
and) this is so much more fearful than the alternative I have
suggested, that I feel it is only right to call attention to that
alternative, as a means by which we may escape being
“partaker of other men’s sins.”
Your difficulty is, whether a man may lawfully remain a
member of the Church of England and trust his soul to her
keeping. Mine would be to justify myself in leaving
her whilst such a remedy remained in my hand unused. Surely
if we
are able to separate ourselves from all responsibility in the
latitudinarian guilt, it will be sufficient for us, for the time
at any rate, and may besides result in further good. If our
archbishops or archbishop should bring things to that pass that
no early Church would have communicated with them, then, no
doubt, if we cannot escape from implication with what they have
done, we shall be ourselves involved in the desert of
excommunication; but if we can do what those very Churches would
have done, we may hope this will avail to show we should not have
been cast out of the communion of Christendom. If we can so
separate ourselves from their deed, and the erastian influences
which admit heresy, that we should have been received by all
early Churches as “the orthodox,” or “the
Catholics” of the English Church—then I do not think
we shall have any excuse for deserting our spiritual mother for
the blandishments of another communion, for anything that has
been done as yet. Thoughts of this method of proceeding,
and musings whether the time has not come openly to disclaim
communion with all those who support the Judgment of the Privy
Council in the recent case, have been now for many months in the
minds of some. Thus I may cite the very passage quoted by
yourself, at the close of your first letter, from Mr.
Keble’s first number of “Church matters in
1850.” “If the decision be adverse, it needs to
be distinctly proved that a bishop or archbishop acting on that
decision would not involve in heresy both himself and all in
communion with him.” p. 26. Again, the same author
has said: “In old time, such a step” viz. as the
archbishops have taken, “would have been met by the Christian
people withdrawing from their communion for a time.” [105a] It is true the writer did not
appear then to contemplate such a measure as possible for us; and
added some explanations at a later date on this point, showing
what were our peculiar difficulties in reference to it: yet he
added, at the same time, “I do not say that such
interruption of communion may not even now be an orthodox
bishop’s duty; although, as yet, by God’s good
providence, the contingency which we have been told would make it
so has not occurred.” (I presume this means the
Archbishop’s institution of Mr. Gorham.) “I do
not say that it may not ere long be a priest’s, or even a
layman’s, duty; I only say that it is not the step
for priests or laymen to take just now.” [105b] Again, let it be remembered,
that as might be expected, he who has borne the brunt of this
battle, who has waged the Church’s war after the pattern of
a soldier and bishop of ancient time, was among the very first to
suggest this remedy; nay, more, to encourage and cheer us by
openly saying he should in a certain contingency, himself adopt
it. Even so far back as last March, immediately upon the
delivery of the judgment, the bishop of Exeter thus sounded the
note of warning:—
“I have to protest,” he said at the
close of his letter to the Primate, “against your
Grace’s doing what you will speedily be called upon to do,
either in person, or by some other exercising your
authority. I have to protest, and I do hereby solemnly protest
before the Church of England, before the holy Catholic Church,
before Him who is its Divine Head, against your giving mission to
exercise cure of souls within my diocese to a clergyman who
proclaims himself to hold the heresies which Mr. Gorham
holds. I protest that any one who gives mission to him (Mr.
Gorham) till he retract, is a favourer and supporter of those
heresies. I protest, in conclusion, that I cannot, without
sin, and by God’s grace I will not, hold communion with
him, be he who he may, who shall so abuse the high commission
which he bears.” [106]
What, then, do such weighty passages press home upon us, but
that the time for such action may come? Perchance even now
it is drawing very near. One almost trembles to write it;
so fearful and awful a thing it is to contemplate openly breaking
the unity of the Church of England, and interrupting communion
with its primate, if he proceed to consummate, or permit to be
consummated by his authority, (nay, without his most deep and
solemn protest on behalf of God’s truth, the Catholic
faith, and his own high office,) the institution of Mr.
Gorham. If he make no disclaimer, and throw no impediment
in the way, the Rubicon indeed is passed, and there must come the
counter-action of all earnest-minded Catholics in this
“city of our God.” I, at least, am desirous to
say that I stand prepared (not indeed to act alone and upon my
own mere judgment, but if those who may best advise us sanction
the proceeding, as I verily believe in no long time they will,)
to withdraw openly from communion with the archbishop. You
will ask what I mean by the term. I do not pretend to
answer for other persons’ meaning: but what I mean
is at least this, that I will say openly and solemnly I would
refuse him the holy communion in my parish church, were he to
come into it, and offer himself at the altar, and equally refuse
to receive it at his hands, or with him. Nay, more, I think
we have it as a weapon in our armoury, to be used, were it well
advised and sanctioned, (and certainly to be used before one
would think of giving up the Church of England as forsaken by
God,) to extend this same withdrawal from communion, from him who
is “the head and front,” even to all those, at any
rate of the clergy, who refuse thus to join in breaking off
communion with him. However strange, however painful,
however solemn, however awful it may be to say such things, I
esteem it now an absolute duty not to withhold them, both that
those whose steps are faltering, whose hands are made weak, whose
feet are sliding, whose hearts are “failing them for fear,
and for looking for those things that are coming upon the
earth,” may know to what resources some among us at any
rate are looking, and also (with all humility and due reverence
would I say it,) that he who has been set as the highest
ecclesiastic in our branch of the Church of Christ, may at least
know to
what extremities he is driving matters by such efforts for peace,
at the expense of an article of the creed, and the faith once for
all delivered.
It may be well to draw out even a little further still, some
of the thoughts suggested by the foregoing observations. It
is plain that, if it shall come to pass that we have to withdraw
from communion with the archbishop, it will immediately and at
once become also our duty to withdraw from all societies
retaining him as their head. Rather, it will be their duty
to remove his Grace’s name from their committees, and
refuse to act under his presidency. If we may not hold
communion with him, we may not acknowledge him as fit to preside
over, or be a manager in, our church societies. In such
societies as he now holds the post of president by annual
election, or by some standing rule, the proceeding will be
comparatively easy, because the next general meeting of the
society can elect some other in his room, or annul the rule by
which he is ex officio the president, or a member of the
committee. In cases, if there be such, where he holds such
position by charter, the matter may be more difficult and more
perplexing, but I believe myself it will then be any and every
such Church society’s duty to apply for an alteration in
its charter under the new and unforeseen circumstance of the
Archbishop of Canterbury having abetted heresy. But if such
societies, or any of them, neglect or refuse to take these steps,
it will immediately become the imperative duty of individuals to
withdraw their names, and (so far as it may depend upon them,)
break up their parochial or district associations in support of
such societies as refuse to recognise the importance of keeping
the faith of the Church of England pure, and thus become
partakers in the guilt of allowing it to be stained. Many
will say, no doubt, “How can you contemplate, much more
counsel, so violent and destructive a policy? What is the
Church to do in missions and promotion of Christian knowledge, if
such a plan be put in execution?” I can but answer,
if things come to that point, that we must break
communion with the archbishop, in order to save our name and
keep our place in Christendom, then these consequences
necessarily follow, and we have no choice. We shall never
come to such resolve but upon the weightiest
grounds:—grounds that will leave us no option as to
following them out. We shall have no right to make matters
of principle into matters of expediency or calculation of
consequences. But if I did look to such, I should come to
the same conclusion: for, whether is it better to paralyze our
efforts for the present, if so it be, by the weakening such
societies, or to aid them when they, those very societies
themselves, will be actually spreading no longer truth, but error
and sinful compromise? Whether is it better for us all that
we be stopped in a career of sin, or that we run on in it, in a
seeming prosperity perhaps, but in reality spreading wherever we
go, and whatever we do, the heresy that the Church in which we
live and serve, has no doctrine on baptism, and we
think it best to take no notice of the fact; but still to hold
willingly in the post of chief honour and authority him who has
“concurred” in, who justifies, who acts upon
the decision which thus assails the faith? No! indeed and
in truth, if we do look to consequences, the very
confusion, perplexity and distress which may ensue, do but bind
upon us the more this line of action: they are the very things
probably to “bring us to ourselves.” If we
prove that our Church cannot do her work under the charge of
heresy, surely it is well. No doubt all this is full of
dismay and sorrow; but any thing is better than to be easy in or
under heresy. And it is by distress, by
suffering, by being made “to go through fire and
water,” that we may afterwards be “brought out into a
wealthy place.” It is by being exposed to any amount
of misery and degradation that we are to be purified. If we
never feel “the mighty famine,” and even be driven
“into the fields to feed swine,” and have to
“fill our bellies with the husks that the swine do
eat,” and “no man,” perchance, “give unto
us,” or pity us, it may be we shall never be brought to
say, “I will arise and go to my Father;”—I will
seek again in all its purity the early faith, even though it be
through the sufferings also of those who early held it. And
“who knoweth but God may be gracious unto us,”
to forgive us our sins, especially the sin of lax holding, or
practical denial of that early faith on so many sides; who
knoweth but He may bring us back into our good place in his
favour, that He may give us “beauty for ashes, the oil of
joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of
heaviness;”—even the place of favoured children in
our Father’s house, for the isolation of a “far
country;”—nay, that He may even say, “Bring
forth the best robe and put it on him, and put shoes on his feet,
and a ring on his hand; and bring hither the fatted calf and kill
it, and let us eat, and be merry, for this”—this Church of
England so long, as it were, estranged from Christendom, is again
at one with her; whereof let Christendom rejoice together!
The thoughts of such results as possible in God’s
providence, if now we stand firm, and fight for the truth, must
not make us forgetful of our present state and our present
danger. I must repeat it, if these be so evil, we must look
for sorrows before we expect relief; we must be ready to go
through it; we must, like our divine Master, “set our face
like a flint;” whatever reproaches be cast upon us, we must
be prepared not to hide it “from shame and
spitting.” We must not care for any loss or confusion
in this time of rebuke, if only we may preserve the faith
for and in our Church, whole and undefiled.
So strongly do I feel these things, that I can deliberately
say I could even wish we might be laid under an
interdict;—no baptisms, no marriages, no communions, no
christian burials, rites, or ordinances be performed or
celebrated among us, until we humble ourselves, and return unto
our God, rather than the Church among us fell asleep, and all our
zeal and fervour cool down, and we lose an article of the creed,
and merely cry despairingly, “what can we
do?”—recognising in all this no real difference, and
believing in no real loss. Such an affliction, if there
were any to put it on us, (and it may be it would be laid upon
those who are hardened or careless, as the result of what we are
now doing, if we be still and tranquil, supposing only an
œcumenical council could be held to pass its judgment on
these things, I say, such an affliction) might purge and purify
us, might separate the wheat from the chaff, might prove who were
infidels, and who believers in that other article of the
creed, “the one Catholic and Apostolic Church,” and
might show we were not without such “a remnant” at
any rate, as might cause Him to look
upon us with some favour who is all mercy to those whom He
perceives to be really bent, to bow no knee to Baal.
I cannot bring myself to leave these things unsaid, much as,
on many accounts, I should be glad to do so; because they serve
to show what kind of action I think we have it in our power to
use, and prove of course how light a matter it must be to
withdraw from this or that voluntary society; nay, comparatively
how easy to strike off an archbishop’s name from a
committee; nay, even to withdraw from communion with him, and
those who may uphold him, when placed in the scale with such a
tremendous infliction as I have named. And although the
effects of such withdrawal, if done by but one priest here and
there, may be little indeed; yet, whatever line of action shall
be deemed necessary, if it be taken by many in different parts,
separated by distance and circumstance, but one in heart and
action, this will, I think, produce so great a difficulty in the
position of affairs, that the restoration of a convocation will
be the only remedy. Whatever may be the difficulty, if it
prove the Church of England cannot do its work whilst under the
curse of heresy, that is, not until it shake it off, (for the
which we trust we shall be found to strive unto the death,) it
cannot be amiss. [112]
I
cannot leave this subject without adding a few words, to explain
how it is I feel compelled to say these things, and yet continue
to hold preferment in the Church of England; how “I justify
my deeds unto myself,” in contemplating and speaking of the
possibility of refusing the holy communion to her highest
ecclesiastic, were he to present himself for it, in my parish
church, and yet retain any parish or parish church at all.
I have no doubt this will strike some persons as requiring, some
perhaps as not admitting, explanation. But since what I
have here said is not the result of petulant feeling or hasty
resolve, but is said with thought and deliberation, it may be
better to state the grounds on which I feel bound both
thus to speak and to retain my living, than leave it to be
supposed I have never considered whether there is any inconsistency
in my conduct, and to each man’s own mind to guess my
motives, and supply my reasoning. Honestly, if I know my
own heart at all, can I say, I do not think still to hold my cure
of souls in the Church of England for the sake of the loaves and
fishes to be obtained by so doing. I am ready and willing,
if any man can show me my duty requires it in consequence of what
I have written, to resign my living to-morrow. But I do
not resign it, because I am fully persuaded there are
times when, much as we should delight to pay to those in highest
place superabundant honour and the most glad submission without
scrutiny or question of any kind, yet we are bound to institute
inquiry whether we can do this, and not betray HER “who is the mother of us
all;”—times when it is a duty to “withstand to
the face” those who inherit even an Apostle’s
robe;—times when we are forbidden to “flee
away,” even if it were “to be at rest.”
Then we must learn to bear not only the reproach of
“envious tongues,” and the “evil report”
of such as are adversaries to the whole cause we have at heart;
not only the hard thoughts of those whose utmost charity is only
able
“in
see-saw strain to tell
Of acting foolishly, but meaning well;”
but even the misconstruction and condemnation of some, who do
go with us on the catholic side a certain way, but who are
alarmed when anything is proposed or done beyond the ordinary
routine of a gentle resistance. Nay, even more than bearing
these things from others, we are constrained to become, yet in no
ill sense of the word, casuists ourselves, and weigh
minutely what that is which in principle we are bound to give to
them “who sit in Moses’ seat,” and where we
must stop, lest we should be found to break a higher command than
theirs “by doing after their works.” There are,
no doubt, difficulties on the side of action, lest we be
not sufficiently observant of the “powers that
be.” There are difficulties on the side of
inaction, lest, while we sleep, “tares may be
sown” which we shall never be able to eradicate. So
we come to be obliged, even against our will, to consider
what deference, what authority, what
guidance of affairs, must needs be given to a chief ruler,
simply for his office’ sake. And the first thought
which meets one is, that undoubtedly no Archbishop in the English
Church can claim to be to us a Pope; the second, that matters are
much simplified as to compliance, if it be any fundamental of
Christianity, any article of the creed, which is brought in
question. For then, history, and the uniform tradition of
the Church, alike teach us that it is not merely the
right, but the duty, not merely of the
priest, but of the lay people also, to contend for
the faith openly and uncompromisingly, by whomsoever it may have
been assailed, and under whatever circumstances. The word,
too, which is above all words, speaks not of gentle resistance,
or moderate opposition, or needful quiet, or charitable
construction: but is, “contend
earnestly;”—“resist unto
blood;”—“quit you like men, be
strong;”—“accept no man’s
person”—fear no man’s rebuke;—regard no
man’s favour;—consult no mans
feeling;—“wish him not so much as God speed,”
be he who he may, who would give away God’s honour and God’s
truth. “If thy brother, the son of thy mother, or thy
son, or thy daughter, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend
which is as thine own soul, entice thee secretly, saying, Let us
go serve other gods, which thou hast not known, thou, nor thy
fathers:”—(let us make a new faith other than that
once for all delivered:—let us change the creeds of the
Church Catholic) . . . “thou shalt not consent unto him,
nor hearken unto him; neither shall thine eye pity him, neither
shalt thou spare, neither shalt thou conceal him.”
Well, surely, have we been reminded, “It was a simple
bishop who addressed the First Patriarch of the Church with the
Anathema tibi, prævaricator Liberi, when that
Pope had tolerated Arianism; they were simple priests who
appealed against the Second Patriarch of the Church, and him too
a saint, when Dionysius of Alexandria appeared to deny the
Catholic faith concerning the Son of God; it was a simple layman
who attacked the then Second Patriarch of the Church for heresy
when Nestorius broached his errors on the Incarnation; and both
bishop, priest, and layman have received eternal honour, as
having been ‘valiant for the truth upon the
earth.’ In our ordination oath, to ‘be ready
with all faithful diligence to banish and drive away all
erroneous and strange doctrines, contrary to God’s
word,’ I find no proviso, ‘except they shall be
supported by superiors.’” [116] Surely, then, to refuse
communion to one, however high in station, is no such great
thing, where the faith is put in peril. Alas! I fear
those who talk most of peace and quiet, who are, more than
anything else, afraid lest Churchmen should do too mush,
forget, or it may be have never realized, that it is no less
than the faith which is now endangered. And if there is
one thing more than another which now disquiets and disheartens
thoughtful, earnest-minded, far-seeing men, it is this;—to
perceive that there are numbers who are not themselves in the
least heretical on baptism, who yet say that all we need is rest;
whose great anxiety is that excitement should cease, and quiet be
restored; who believe all would be well if these “unhappy
differences,” as they call them, could be forgotten; these
“sad animosities,” as they appear to them, could be
laid aside, and all things return into a peaceful current.
Alas! “Peace, peace, when there is no peace,” is the
order of the day, I fear, with only too many. Oh! that I
could “lift up my voice like a trumpet,” to arouse
such, before they give up, step by step, to the encroaching
liberalism of the day the very vantage ground it covets, and be
only turned at last, and made to stand at bay, when they
find they can recede no further without being pushed absolutely
down the gulph; discovering this, however, only when it is too
late, because they will already have surrendered their
strongholds, and yielded up God’s armour, and then find, to
their sorrow and dismay, that even such weapons as they may still
have left are profitless and vain, the space in which they are
pent up being all too strait to allow them rightfully to wield
them. Oh! that I could awaken the sleeping heart of this English
people to feel for God’s honour as for their own, or for
their country’s! and to know, if they would indeed win His
battle, they must, one and all who have Catholic hearts, throw
themselves into the very midst of the fight, and strain every
nerve, and use every weapon, now whilst there is time, as I
believe, in God’s might, and by His help, to win it.
Oh! that we all knew we may not leave our cause to fight for
itself alone, (which is to desert it,) and so provoke Him our
Saviour and Defence to forsake us, and permit us to become at
last as Ephesus and Smyrna, as Pergamos and Thyatira, as Sardis,
Philadelphia, and Laodicea.
I do not, then, resign my cure of souls, because I feel God
has appointed me to be one in this warfare, and I may not give
away anything He has put into my hand wherewith to bear my part
in it. I do not resign my cure, because I think I should
not be doing my Lord’s work;—I should not be fighting
his Church’s battle;—I should not be using his
weapons;—I should not be feeding his flock;—I should
not be avouching his truth;—I should not be bearing, in any
appreciable degree, the same testimony to it, were I to resign my
cure of souls, and then say, “I would not admit such or
such to holy communion if I had a parish.” No!
let it be known and felt that as a priest, in the exercise of the
priestly office, I do what I do, and promise what I
promise. And although I have allowed even herein I am but
speaking prospectively of what may become our duty, I
repeat that I dare not withhold my thought of what possibly is
coming upon us, both that we may all be prepared if it come, and
that those who have most power to avert any such necessity, may see
how very urgent and extreme is the crisis in which our (and
their) lot is cast.
I know well how the world will take my saying, and meet my
argument. It will say this at least, if it say no worse,
“Granting what you urge has a certain force and consistency
in itself, if you were merely a priest; how is it reconcileable
with being a priest in the diocese of Sarum, and province of
Canterbury? how is to say these things, compatible with the
canonical obedience which you have sworn?”
I might answer, perhaps, that I know not that I have
sworn anything to the Archbishop, since I never was in his
diocese, either in Chester or Canterbury; but this answer would
be possibly insufficient, even for my own case, as there may be
an implied canonical obedience through the suffragan bishop to
the metropolitan. Moreover, if it cleared other dioceses,
and the priests in them personally, it would be no general
answer, but leave a burden on the consciences of those who
minister in the diocese of Canterbury. I will therefore
make a further, and, I trust, a more complete reply. I say,
that what I myself, and every priest among us, has subscribed to,
is obedience to his bishop “in things lawful and
honest.” Can this ever bind me to acquiesce in
expunging an article of the Nicene creed? in not contending to
the utmost against the heresy that our Church has no
dogmatic teaching on baptism at all? You may tell me, the
law will take another view of what is “lawful,” and
compel me to subscribe to it. When it does, it will be time
enough for me to think what I shall next do; and I trust I shall
not be forgetful that there is an authority higher than the law
of man. [120] Therefore this I will say even
now, (indeed I have already said it,) if the time ever come when
this Church and realm shall so receive doctrine that we
cannot hold the Catholic faith, and remain members of the Church
of England too, one thing at least will be clear, that we must
then give up the Church of England, and I will join with you in
seeking somewhere else a purer faith. But I do not believe
as yet, whatever this realm may think, that this
Church hath acknowledged the Gorham theology to be her faith;
and I will say this besides, if ever it shall come to pass that
it is about to be ruled, not to be “lawful and
honest” to separate from any that openly abet or foster
heresy; that our subscription to “obey in things lawful and
honest,” binds us to a bishop or an archbishop so
committing himself, so aiding and abetting the permission of
heresy, then will a new phase open upon our Church; then will
that great argument of the day be ranged on our side, “Take
heed what you do, or three thousand priests will resign their
cures, and seek some other shelter!” Yes! then indeed
will it be, (I doubt it not) that some of our spiritual fathers
will make it plain to all men wherein our great “strength
lieth,” and show that we depend not upon
“an arm of flesh;” that there are men of all ranks
and circumstances among us, willing to “count all things
but loss,” so they may “keep the faith,” and
that in deed and in truth the Church is separable from
the establishment. In the mean time, as I have said,
I find myself, not as yet bound down to the decision of the Privy
Council, nor ensnared, by having undertaken to minister in my
cure as “this Church and realm hath received”
doctrine, because, even though this realm may have received that
judgment as legal, I think the Church has not ratified it as
valid. I find no burden upon my conscience in having
subscribed to obey my ordinary “in things lawful and
honest,” nor do I perceive how I shall find it, even though
I may come to think it unlawful to hold communion with the
Primate. And I find no cause to resign my cure, though I
have deemed it necessary to say these things.
There is one subject more, which I cannot make up my mind to
pass over. I have said the very struggles which we make for
freedom, will, in their making, test our Church. This
itself is used as an argument by some, against exertion; at least
against exertion for the objects which most Churchmen now
advocate—the regaining for her, her free synod or
convocation. “Convocations and Synods.—Are they
remedies for existing evils?” is the title of a thoughtful
pamphlet which I have seen. The “Anglican
Layman” (such is the author’s description of himself
on his title page) says, the remedies which he has heard
suggested appear to him “one and all of a dilatory and
inconclusive character, in part hopeless, in part useless, and
in part of doubtful propriety.” [122] I will not swell what I have
already written by any comment on the first two of these
objections; on the last I must say something; and, to introduce
it, I will make a further extract from the pamphlet in
question:—
“Suppose the convocation assembled with
universal consent, or even suppose a properly constituted synod
to be convened with the approbation of the State, or suppose the
united episcopate to be assembled without it, would the decision
of any or either of these be really authoritative?
In what sense would it be so? Would any or either of the
parties in the Church consent to be bound by it? What is
meant by an authoritative decision? What do the
‘Resolutions’ I have quoted mean by an
‘authoritative declaration’? What does
the Metropolitan Church Union mean by ‘the only body
possessing authority in controversies of faith’?
What does the Bishop of London mean by ‘finally settling
the question by a synodical decree’? Would you be
bound by it?—Should I be bound by it?—Would the
minority of such an assembly be bound in conscience by the
majority?—Would the majority itself be bound by the
decision in any permanent sense, because they were the
majority? In fact, who can doubt that there is on both
sides a determined foregone conclusion on the point in dispute,
and that no one individual on either side would hold himself
bound in conscience to abide by the decision.”
* * * * *
“But it will be said—it is
said, ‘although the decision, if wrong, will not bind us,
it will bind the Church, and if the Church should commit
itself to heresy, our course would be plain.’ Now, a
great deal of very solemn and serious language is used in
speaking of the Church of England, and of the duty, and
allegiance we owe her, much too solemn indeed, and too serious,
unless we mean what we say; she is ‘the Church of our
Baptism,’ we are her ‘children,’ we call her
‘our Sion,’ ‘our beloved Church,’
‘our holy Mother,’ we profess to be jealous that any
one should intrude upon her office as a ‘teacher of the
Truth,’ or speak in her name without her commission.
All this implies respect, deference, an admission of her right to
guide us. Now, if it be true that whatever our Mother may
say, we shall one and all turn a deaf ear to her voice, unless
she speaks in accordance with our own previous convictions, that
we are reserving our objections to her authority till we hear her
judgment—that we intend to test her authority by her
judgment, is not our language of reverence and affection somewhat
unreal?
“To assemble the Church in Convocation or Synod, for
such a purpose as this, would be to place her in a most
undignified position, that of exhibiting herself for
approbation. We should be treating her as a mob would treat
a popular leader; if she should speak our
language—‘hosanna,’ if
not—‘crucify.’ We should have the air of
enquiring of an oracle, whereas we should only be questioning a
suspected delinquent. We should seem to ask advice, but approbation
of our own predetermined opinions would be all the answer we
should condescend to receive.
* * * *
“If the assembling of the convocation or
synod would in any real sense ‘settle the question,’
if its declaration would be really ‘authoritative,’
if the members of the Church would be religiously bound to listen
to its voice as that of the teacher of truth, or even if it would
be a step towards a decision by a higher tribunal, that may be a
reason for assembling it; but if it is to bind no one, and its
decision is only sought for as a test of its own vitality, then I
should be disposed to ask whether such a proceeding is not of
very doubtful propriety.
“No doubt, it might be quite right to force a
subordinate court to speak, in order to arrive at a decision by a
higher tribunal, but to force a final court of appeal to
speak when you have no intention of obeying it, seems to me to be
an act of the same kind as pleading before, or sitting upon, a
tribunal, against the authority of which you intend to protest,
should its decision displease you.” [124]
I have cited this somewhat lengthy passage: but it will enable
me to make my own remarks the briefer that I have thus fully
stated the objection. The answer to its whole drift seems
to me to be this, that no synod or convocation of the English
Church is, or can be, a “final court.” This
writer seems to have let it escape him that, though we may have
among ourselves no higher appeal, yet there is one in the
world. The Church Catholic, and especially It in
council, is an authority to which all provincial synods are
subject, and to which our deepest reverence is due. The
writer in question does say indeed, if a decision by
convocation would be “a step towards a decision by a higher
tribunal,” it would be a reason: for convocation being
assembled; not however, I think, as contemplating any higher
tribunal than our convocation, but merely as shewing the
impropriety of its being called together at all. In the
next paragraph he explains this:—“No doubt it might
be quite right to force a subordinate court to speak, in order to
arrive at a decision by a higher tribunal; but to force a
final (sic) court of appeal to speak,”
(evidently assuming this quality to belong to the English synod
or convocation) “when you have no intention of obeying it,
seems to me to be an act of the same kind as pleading before, or
sitting upon, a tribunal, against the authority of which you
intend to protest, should its decision displease
you.” Now, my view certainly is not merely that we
should protest against (though we will not contemplate) any
heretical decision by convocation; but, if it were so, should
also appeal from it to the voice of Christendom. “The
only superior known to the local Church is the authority of the
Church universal.” [125a] Surely of
that authority we must not be forgetful, whatever be the
difficulties at present in the way of an appeal to it.
“Is the Church of England so isolated from the Universal,
that the faith of the Church universal has no influence unto its
theology?” [125b] And yet this point
seems to be forgotten by the otherwise careful writer of the
pamphlet in question. And in forgetting this, of course he
must do wrong to the position of the Church of England, as well
as, I fear, discourage those who are labouring for her
freedom. We are but a part of Christendom, but this claim
to allow no appeal from our convocation, seems to arrogate to
ourselves to be either the whole, or so capable of standing by
ourselves, that we desire to be freed from any subordination to
the whole, which would be, in fact, no less than to make
ourselves “guilty of a formal schism from the universal
Church of Christ.” [126] We must not
allow ourselves to forget there is such a thing as an
œcumenical council of Christendom, and whatever the
difficulties in the way of its assembling, yet to it, as I
believe, all true hearts should turn. Certainly, for myself
I can say that this, as the great remedy for all our troubles and
distractions, and “not for ours only,” but for
those of Christendom at large, has been constantly present to my
mind these many years. That God of his mercy, and in His
good time, would grant us a general council to ease and compose
our differences, and to restore the unity of Christendom, and, if
it come, grant us all the due mind of submission to it, has been
now for no short period a portion of my daily prayers; and I
think there is no just ground to decry the petition as either
fanciful or wrong; at least we have the warrant of some among us
of great name who have not thought so. “That I might
live to see the re-union of Christendom,” says Archbishop
Bramhall, “is a thing for which I shall always
bow the knees of my heart to the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ.” * * * * “Howsoever it be, I submit myself
and my poor endeavours,” he continues, “first to the
judgment of the Catholic œcumenical essential Church,
which, if some of late days have endeavoured to hiss out of the
schools, as a fancy, I cannot help it. From the beginning
it was not so.” * * * * “Likewise I submit myself to
the representative Church, that is, a free general council, or so
general as can be procured, and until then to the Church of
England, wherein I was baptized, or to a national English
synod.” [127] I do not say whether the
confidence with which Bramhall trusted an English synod, was
excessive in his day, or would be excessive in ours, but
assuredly he recognises the appeal to a higher court; and this is
exactly what I affirm we must bear in mind there is, if we seem
to put our own Church to the test, by demanding that her convocation
shall again be allowed to meet. It may be supposed, indeed,
that an œcumenical council is at present hopeless, and
therefore that all mention of an appeal to it is out of place;
but I do not think this, and for two reasons; in the first place
that there are certain points of doctrine which have been so
definitely ruled by general councils, that we know on them
there could be no variation; and in the second, that I see no
ground to despair of another such council in God’s good
time being called together. [128] Even in the
mean time the thought of such a council is neither impertinent,
nor unpractical: for I suppose no one will hold that a national
synod or convocation may determine anything as to its
Church’s doctrine, and yet no man be justified in leaving
her communion. Such course however must be taken, to be
taken rightly, not on the impulse of a man’s own will, or
the bent of his own mind; but only in obedience to what
Christendom has definitely ruled, and in implicit
submission to what she would now say, could she meet in free and
general council. Such right of action, so guarded, I think
must be allowed, for if not, it would follow that, during the
suspension of the voice of the Church Universal, any provincial
Church might commit herself to Socinianism, nay, to Deism, or
Pantheism, under the name of Christianity, and yet no man have
even his individual remedy against a body so lapsing from the
faith, until a general council could pronounce upon the
matter. This is clearly a reductio ad absurdum, and therefore
we may and ought, (though we will never contemplate our Church
authorising or affirming heresy in her synods or convocation,)
yet not to be afraid to strive for their revival, as though there
were no appeal above her, and no solution if she should fail
under the trial. When too we remember what we are in danger
of sanctioning by acquiescence, and in what a position we may
thus place ourselves for the judgment of an œcumenical
council upon us when it may come, we see all the greater cause to
wish for the restoration of our synods and convocations, nay, to
account it an absolute duty which, thank God, needs no
calculation of results at all, to run the risk, if risk it be
considered, of what our Church will say, and positively claim by
them. In order to clear herself, she must be allowed
to speak.
Further, the “Anglican Layman” admits if
convocation’s meeting “would be a step towards a
decision by a higher tribunal, that may be a reason for
assembling it.” I take him at his word; I ask him
especially to consider if this be not one of the results to be
expected, and, (if he shall, upon consideration, be satisfied on
the point) then I ask him further to join in the efforts which
are being made to obtain the revival of our Church’s
synodical functions.
I have said what the higher tribunal is. I have said I
think we ought to work even now with a view to its
judgment. Suppose a general council were to be
held;—say then, whether the determination of these
questions, which now distract us, would not be a step towards a
final resolution of them all by its authority. For, say
first, the English Synod or Convocation boldly
asserted the catholic verity on Baptism, would not this be a
great step towards our being received openly and unhesitatingly
into the bosom of Christendom, when her council shall meet, and
say, as say it must, in what light the Anglican communion is to
be regarded. Or suppose (let me be forgiven for the
supposition in the way of argument, and here necessary to it,)
that the result of her counsel were an ambiguous or heretical
determination. Surely even this would not be without its
use in limiting the points in issue, and help (no small
consideration) all Catholic-minded men among us to acquiesce in
any censure which Christendom might pass upon us. This, I
cannot regard as an unimportant gain, since owing to our
isolation, and I fear I must say, our national prejudices, there
might be great danger, that even the decision of an
œcumenical council upon our position and our duties, would
hardly be received as it ought to be even by all those who are
striving humbly after truth. But if then we must be
condemned (I am not saying it would be so; again and again I must
repeat it; but if it were so,) it would surely be something for
the comfort and guidance of us all, that it should be on plain
and undisputed grounds; that our Church had spoken, and spoken
amiss; that she had tampered with the ancient faith, and changed
the primæval creeds. Though I do not say any of these
things will come upon us, yet I do think the position in which we
stand without convocation, and the dangers of, what would be
called in human affairs, a downward policy, are so great that
they justify us in speaking out very plainly, and in looking to
help from Christendom in case of need. I do believe never till
we get to look out of ourselves to Christendom at large, never
till we remember our due place in it, never till we are ready to
accept its decrees better to define our position, and help us in
the practical restoration of our teaching to what it ought to be,
shall we be in that right mind and heart, which is waiting duly
for the Bridegroom’s call.
I am quite prepared to have these remarks called visionary and
unreal; and all dependence on, nay all reference to, the
Universal Church, unpractical and absurd. But “none
of these things move me,” and I am, though I trust, no
fanatic, yet hopeful of the help of God for those who will try to
help themselves. As I have said before, I cannot think the
expectation of a general council is chimerical. I cannot
believe if it come it will be useless. I agree with you in
saying, “we have no right to expect an audible or visible
interposition of Almighty God,” to direct us in our
difficulties. “We must not wait to see his
handwriting on the wall, or to hear his voice among us;” [131] but I have yet faith enough in
miracles to believe, if that be one, that God may grant us the
miracle of Christendom again in council, and make it the means to
heal all our distempers, and bind up all our wounds. Of
this hope and this faith, no man shall deprive me by the mere
calculations of human policy, or by the perverseness of an
un-Catholic despair.
And now, my dear Friend, if you have followed me through these
pages, as I know with all kindness and attention you will have done,
you will see, in some measure at any rate, why I must bitterly
lament and utterly condemn the steps which you have taken.
I cannot see that the Church of England has forfeited her
trust. I cannot, therefore, believe God has forsaken
her. I cannot think that He bids us leave her. I have
not indeed concealed my opinion of the dangers which beset
her. Humanly speaking, her safety lies in their
being known and felt by her children; but I firmly believe there
is yet a battle to be fought in her, and for her,
which is worth all our energies and should engage all our
hearts. No man knows better than you what is to be done: no
man better how great is the stake: no man better how glorious the
result, if God grant the battle to be won. Alas! that it
should be bitter now to say it, no man has fought more nobly in
the ranks of the English Church: no man more distinctly or with
less hesitating lips has enunciated her dogmatic teaching: no man
has contended more boldly on the side of God, and the creeds, and
the Catholic faith than you have done in this our battle for life
and death! Oh! that you might even now once more
“cast in your lot among us;” confess you believe you
have been blinded by care and grief, and so been at least
over-hasty in your resolves; and throw yourself once more into
the ranks of the chosen warriors among us, and into the battle
with us. Believe me,—nay, rather judge it for
yourself—great things are coming on apace: things which
will make men’s course plain before their face, without
their being over-forward to decide them in isolation for
themselves by the mere act of their private judgment; and
perchance if we may but be wisely guided, and have
patience to endure, we may both come out ourselves “as
silver purified seven times in the fire,” and be the means,
though all unworthy, to unite Christendom again in one. Oh!
what heart can exaggerate the beauty with which our Church shall
again shine forth, if she can retain the good that is in her and
discard the evil! How nobly will then appear the
characteristic virtues of the English mind;—its love of
honesty and truth;—its conscientiousness and repudiation of
pious frauds;—its loathing disbelief in the avail of
expiation of sin by mere formal observances, the sinner remaining
unrepentant all the while! If these qualities may be
fostered, and its characteristic vices;—its arrogancy and
pride;—its unbounded reliance upon itself, and the
miserably ignorant as well as utterly destructive habit and abuse
of private judgment: therefore its refusal of Catholic teaching,
and practical denial of sacramental grace; if these can be
eradicated, how fairly indeed shall the Church of England shine
forth once more, as “clothed in white raiment,” as
able “to save alive the souls” committed to her, as
“the ransomed” and “well-beloved” of the
Lord! “as a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters,
and streams from Lebanon.” But for this (though we
know God needeth no man’s help, and can spare whom
he pleaseth, and his work not the less be done, and his counsel
stand,) yet we seem to be able to spare no man from our
ranks who has ever fought upon our side. Oh! (with a
breaking heart, one is almost tempted to exclaim:) Oh! that we
could but have with us now, all those who in these last five or
ten years have “lost patience” in our camp.
What with them, could they be restored to us,
might we not seem ready to attain, even against all the
“principalities and powers” that latitudinarian
indifference or infidel philosophy may array against us?
But, I may not indulge in such longings. I may not ask, nor
think of, nor hope, even your return. I do not ask
it, for I know it is a thing you may not grant for asking.
I will not think of it, for “vain are the thoughts of
man!” I will not even hope it; for why should
“the heart be made sick,” when so much work is to be
done. But I may and will pray for it, if it be His
gracious will, who is able to give more than we know how either
to ask or to think, “whose way is in the sea, and whose
paths in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not
known.”
Believe me, my dear Maskell, yours, though in sorrow, still in
affection,
MAYOW WYNELL MAYOW.