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 -FROM -THE- LIBRARY- OF- 
 A. W. Ryder 
 
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APOLOGIA PRO VITA SUA 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN HENRY NEWMAN 
 
 LONDON 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS Limited 
 
 NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. 
 
 A 
 
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 V i>"v'W 
 
 
 PRINTED BY THE MOTLEY PRESS, LONDON. 
 
PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1865 
 
 The following History of my Religious Opinions, now that it 
 is detached from the context in which it originally stood, re- 
 quires some preliminary explanation; and that, not only in order 
 to introduce it generally to the reader, but specially to make 
 him understand, how I came to write a whole book about my- 
 self, and about my most private thoughts and feelings. Did I 
 consult indeed my own impulses, I should do my best simply 
 to wipe out of my Volume and consign to oblivion every trace 
 of the circumstances to which it is to be ascribed; but its orig- 
 inal title of Apologia is too exactly borne out by its matter and 
 structure, and these again are too suggestive of correlative cir- 
 cumstances, and those circumstances are of too grave a char- 
 acter, to allow of my indulging so natural a wish. And there- 
 fore, though in this new edition I have managed to omit nearly 
 a hundred pages -of my original Volume, which I could safely 
 consider to be of merely ephemeral importance, I am even for 
 that very reason obliged, by way of making up for their absence, 
 to prefix to my narrative some account of the provocation out 
 of which it arose. 
 
 It is now more than twenty years that a vague impression to 
 my disadvantage has rested on the popular mind, as if my con- 
 duct towards the Anglican Church, while I was a member of it, 
 was inconsistent with Christian simplicity and uprightness. An 
 impression of this kind was almost unavoidable under the cir- 
 cumstances of the case, when a man, who had written strongly 
 against a cause, and had collected a party round him by virtue 
 of such writings, gradually faltered in his opposition to it, unsaid 
 his words, threw his own friends into perplexity, and their pro- 
 ceedings into confusion, and ended by passing over to the side 
 of those whom he had so vigorously denounced. Sensitive then 
 as I have ever been of the imputations which have been so 
 freely cast upon me, I have never felt much impatience under 
 them, as considering them to be a portion of the penalty which 
 I naturally and justly incurred by my change of religion, even 
 though they were to continue as long as I lived. I left their 
 removal to a future day, when personal feelings would have died 
 out, and documents would see the light, which were as yet 
 buried in closets or scattered through the country. 
 
 This was my state of mind, as it had been for many years, 
 when, in the beginning of 1864, I unexpectedly found myself 
 publicly put upon my defence, and furnished with an opportunity 
 of pleading my cause before the world, and, as it so happened, 
 with a fair prospect of an impartial hearing. Taken indeed by 
 surprise, as I was, I had much reason to be anxious how I should 
 be able to acquit myself in so serious a matter; however, I had 
 long had a tacit understanding with myself, that in the improb- 
 able event of a challenge being formally made to me by a 
 person of name, it would be my duty to meet it. That oppor- 
 tunity had now occurred ; it never might occur again ; not to 
 avail myself of it at on^ would be virtually to give up my 
 
 o nce would be virtua 
 
 ivf£9257 
 
IV PREFACE 
 
 cause ; accordingly, I took advantage of it, and, as it has turned 
 out, the circumstance that no time was allowed me for any 
 studied statements has compensated, in the equitable judgment 
 of the public, for such imperfections in composition as my want 
 of leisure involved. 
 
 It Avas in the number for January 4864, of a magazine of wide 
 circulation, and in an article upon Queen Elizabeth, that a 
 popular writer took occasion formally to accuse me by name of 
 thinking so lightly of the virtue of Veracity, as in set terms to 
 have countenanced and defended that neglect of it which he at 
 the same time imputed to the Catholic Priesthood. His words 
 were these: 
 
 'Truth, for its own sake, had never been a virtue with the 
 Roman clergy. Father Newman informs us that it need not, and 
 on the whole ought not to be; that cunning is the weapon which 
 heaven has given to the Saints wherewith to withstand the brute 
 male force of the wicked world which marries and is given in 
 marriage. Whether his notion be doctrinally correct or not, it 
 is at least historically so.' — 
 
 These assertions, going far beyond the popular prejudice enter- 
 tained against me, had no foundation whatever in fact. I never 
 had said, I never had dreamed of saying, that truth for its own sake, 
 need not, and on the whole ought not to be, a virtue with the Roman 
 Clergy; or that cunning is the weapon which heaven has given 
 to the Saints wherewith to withstand the wicked world. To 
 what work of mine then could the writer be referring? In a 
 correspondence which ensued upon the subject between him and 
 myself, he rested his charge against me on a sermon of mine, 
 preached, before I was a Catholic, in the pulpit of my church 
 at Oxford; and he gave me to understand, that, after having 
 done as much as this, he was not bound, over and above such 
 a general reference to my sermon, to specify the passages of it 
 in which the doctrine, which he imputed to me, was contained. 
 On my part, I considered this not enough; and I demanded of 
 him to bring out his proof of his accusation in form and in detail, 
 or to confess he was unable to do so. But he persevered in his 
 refusal to cite any distinct passages, from any writing of mine; 
 and, though he consented to withdraw his charge, he would not 
 do so on the issue of its truth or falsehood, but simply on the 
 ground that I assured him that I had had no intention of in- 
 curring it. This did not satisfy my sense of justice. Formally 
 to charge me with committing a fault is one thing; to allow 
 that I did not intend to commit it, is another; it is no satisfact- 
 ion to me, if a man accuses me of this offence, for him to 
 profess that he does not accuse me of that; but he thought 
 differently. Not being able then to gain redress in the quarter, 
 where I had a right to ask it, I appealed to the public. I pub- 
 lished the correspondence in the shape of a pamphlet, with 
 some remarks of my own at the end, on the course which that 
 correspondence had taken. 
 
 This pamphlet, which appeared in the first weeks of February, 
 received a reply from my accuser towards the end of March, in 
 another pamphiet of 48 pages, entitled What then does Dr New- 
 
PREFACE V 
 
 man mean ? in which he professed to do that which I had called 
 upon him to do; that is, he brought together a number of ex- 
 tracts from various works of mine, Catholic and Anglican, with 
 the object of showing that, if I was to be acquitted of the crime 
 of teaching and practising deceit and dishonesty, according to 
 his first supposition, it was at the price of my being considered 
 no longer responsible for my actions; for, as he expressed it, 
 'I had a human reason once, no doubt, but I had gambled it 
 away', and I had 'worked my mind into that morbid state, in 
 which nonsense was the only food for which it hungered ' ; and 
 that it could not be called 'a hasty, or far-fetched or unfounded 
 mistake, when he concluded that I did not care for truth for its 
 own sake, or teach my disciples to regard it as a virtue ' ; and, 
 though 'too many prefer the charge of insincerity to that of 
 insipience, Dr Newman seemed not to be of that number.' 
 
 He ended his pamphlet by returning to his original imputa- 
 tion against me, which he had professed to abandon. Alluding 
 by anticipation to my probable answer to what he was then 
 publishing, he professed his heartfelt embarrassment how he was 
 to believe anything I might say in my exculpation, in the plain 
 and literal sense of the words. 'I am henceforth', he said, 'in 
 doubt and fear, as much as an honest man can be, concerning 
 every word Dr Newman may write. How can I tell, that I shall 
 not be the dupe of some cunning equivocation, of one of the 
 three kinds laid down as permissible by the blessed St Alfonso 
 da Liguori and his pupils, even when confirmed with an oath, 
 because "then we do not deceive our neighbour, but allow him 
 to deceive himself"? . . . How can I tell, that I may not in 
 this pamphlet have made an accusation, of the truth of which 
 Dr Newman is perfectly conscious; but that, as I, a heretic 
 Protestant, have no business to make it, he has a full right to 
 deny it?' 
 
 Even if I could have found it consistent with my duty to my 
 own reputation to leave such an elaborate impeachment of my 
 moral nature unanswered, my duty to my brethren in the 
 Catholic Priesthood would have forbidden such a course. They 
 were involved in the charges which this writer, all along, from 
 the original passage in the magazine, to the very last paragraph 
 of the pamphlet, had so confidently, so pertinaciously made. In 
 exculpating myself, it was plain I should be pursuing no mere 
 personal quarrel; I was offering my humble service to a sacred 
 cause. I was making my protest in behalf of a large body of 
 men of high character, of honest and religious minds, and of 
 sensitive honour — who had their place and their rights in this 
 world, though they were ministers of the world unseen, and who 
 were insulted by my accuser, as the above extracts from him 
 sufficiently show, not only in my person, but directly and point- 
 edly in their own. Accordingly, I at once set about writing the 
 Apologia pro vita sua, of which the present volume is a new 
 edition; and it was a great reward to me to find, as the con- 
 troversy proceeded, such large numbers of my clerical brethren 
 supporting me by their sympathy in the course which I was 
 pursuing, and, as occasion offered, bestowing on me the formal 
 and public expression of their approbation. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PAGE 
 
 History of my Religious Opinions up to 1833 .... 1 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 History of my Religious Opinions from 1833 to 1839. . 41 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 History of my Religious Opinions from 1839 to 1841. . 104 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 History of my Religious Opinions from 1841 to 1845. . 1G6 
 
HISTORY OF MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 TO THE YEAR 1833 
 
 It may easily be conceived how great a trial 
 it is to me to write the following history of 
 myself; but I must not shrink from the task. 
 The words e Secretum meum mihi \ keep ringing 
 in my ears ; but as men draw towards their 
 end, they care less for disclosures. Nor is it 
 the least part of my trial, to anticipate that 
 my friends may, upon first reading what I have 
 written, consider much in it irrelevant to my 
 purpose ; yet I cannot help thinking that, viewed 
 as a whole, it will effect what I wish it to do. 
 
 I was brought up from a child to take great 
 delight in reading the Bible ; but I had no 
 formed religious convictions till I was fifteen. 
 Of course, I had perfect knowledge of my 
 Catechism. 
 
 After I was grown up, I put on paper such 
 recollections as I had of my thoughts and 
 feelings on religious subjects at the time that 
 I was a child and a boy. Out of these I select 
 two, which are at once the most definite among 
 them, and also have a bearing on my later 
 convictions. 
 
 In the paper to which I have referred, written 
 either in the Long Vacation of 1820, or in 
 October 1823, the following notices of my school 
 
 1 
 
X MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 dajj were sufficiently prominent in my memory 
 for me to consider them worth recording: 
 'I used to wish the Arabian Tales were true: 
 my imagination ran on unknown influences, on 
 magical powers, and talismans... I thought 
 life might be a dream, or I an Angel, and 
 all this world a deception, my fellow-angels by 
 a playful device concealing themselves from me, 
 and deceiving me with the semblance of a 
 material world.' 
 
 Again, ' Reading in the Spring of 1816 a 
 sentence from [Dr Watts's] Remnants of Time, 
 entitled " the Saint unknown to the world ", to 
 the effect that " there is nothing in their figure 
 or countenance to distinguish them", &c. &c, 
 I supposed he spoke of Angels who lived in 
 the world as it were disguised. ' 
 
 The other remark is this : ' I was very super- 
 stitious, and for some time previous to my 
 conversion [when I was fifteen] used constantly 
 to cross myself on going into the dark/ 
 
 Of course I must have got this practice from 
 some external source or other ; but I can make 
 no sort of conjecture whence ; and certainly no 
 one had ever spoken to me on the subject of 
 the Catholic religion, which 1 only knew by 
 name. The French master was an emigre Priest, 
 but he was simply made a butt, as French 
 masters too commonly were in that day, and 
 spoke English very imperfectly. There was a 
 Catholic famity in the village, old maiden ladies, 
 we used to think ; but I knew nothing but their 
 name. I have of late years heard that there 
 were one or two Catholic boys in the school ; 
 but, either we were carefully kept from knowing 
 this, or the knowledge of it made simply no 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 3 
 
 impression on our minds. My brother will bear 
 witness how free the school was from Catholic 
 ideas. 
 
 I had once been into Warwick Street Chapel 
 with my father, who, I believe, wanted to hear 
 some piece of music ; all that I bore away from 
 it was the recollection of a pulpit, and a preacher, 
 and a boy swinging a censer. 
 
 When I was at Littlemore, I was looking over 
 old copy-books of my school days, and I found 
 among them my first Latin verse-book ; and in 
 the first page of it there was a device which 
 almost took my breath away with surprise. I 
 have the book before me now, and have just 
 been showing it to others. I have written in 
 the first page, in my school-boy hand, c John 
 H. Newman, February 11th, 1811, Verse Book'; 
 then follow my first verses. Between ' Verse* 
 and ' Book ' I have drawn the figure of a solid 
 cross upright, and next to it is, what may 
 indeed be meant for a necklace, but what I 
 cannot make out to be any thing else than a 
 set of beads suspended, with a little cross 
 attached. At this time I was not quite ten 
 years old. I suppose I got the idea from some 
 romance, Mrs Radcliffe's, or Miss Porter's; or 
 from some religious picture ; but the strange 
 thing is, how, among the thousand objects which 
 meet a boy's eyes, these in particular should 
 so have fixed themselves in my mind, that I 
 made them thus practically my own. I am 
 certain there was nothing in the churches I 
 attended, or the prayer books I read, to suggest 
 them. It must be recollected that churches 
 and prayer books were not decorated in those 
 days as I believe they are now. 
 
4 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 When I was fourteen, I read Paine' s tracts 
 against the Old Testament, and found pleasure 
 in thinking of the objections which were con- 
 tained in them. Also, I read some of Hume's 
 Essays', and perhaps that on Miracles. So at 
 least I gave my father to understand ; but per- 
 haps it was a brag. Also, I recollect copying 
 out some French verses, perhaps Voltaire's, 
 against the immortality of the soul, and saying 
 to myself something like, f How dreadful, but 
 how plausible ! ' 
 
 When I was fifteen (in the autumn of 1816) 
 a great change of thought took place in me. 
 I fell under the influences of a definite Creed, 
 and received into my intellect impressions of 
 dogma, which, through God's mercy, have never 
 been effaced or obscured. Above and beyond 
 the conversations, and sermons, and the excellent 
 man, long dead, who was the human means of 
 of this beginning of divine faith in me, was the 
 effect of the books which he put into my hands, 
 all of the school of Calvin. One of the first 
 books I read was a work of Romaine's ; I neither 
 recollect the title nor the contents, except one 
 doctrine, which of course I do not include among 
 those which I believe to have come from a divine 
 source, viz. the doctrine of final perseverance. 
 I received it at once, and believed that the in-, 
 ward conversion of which I was conscious (and 
 of which I still am more certain than that I 
 have hands and feet) would last into the next 
 life, and that I was elected to eternal glory. 
 I have no consciousness that this belief had any 
 tendency whatever to lead me to be careless 
 about pleasing God. I retained it till the age of 
 twenty-one, when it gradually faded away ; but I 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 5 
 
 believe that it had some influence on my opinions, 
 in the direction of those childish imaginations 
 which I have already mentioned, viz. in isolating 
 me from the objects which surrounded me, in 
 confirming me in my mistrust of the reality of 
 material phenomena, and making me rest in the 
 thought of two, and two only, supreme and lumin- 
 ously self-evident beings, myself and my Creator ; 
 for while I considered myself predestined to 
 salvation, I thought others simply passed over, 
 not predestined to eternal death. I only thought 
 of the mercy to myself. 
 
 The detestable doctrine last mentioned is 
 simply denied and abjured, unless my memory 
 strangely deceives me, by the writer who made 
 a deeper impression on my mind than any other, 
 and to whom (humanly speaking) 1 almost owe 
 my soul — Thomas Scott, of Aston Sandford. 1 so 
 admired and delighted in his writings, that, when 
 I was an undergraduate, I thought of making a 
 visit to his parsonage, in order to see a man 
 whom I so deeply revered. I hardly think I 
 could have given up the idea of this expedition, 
 even after I had taken my degree ; for the news 
 of his death, in 1821, came upon me as a dis- 
 appointment as well as a sorrow. I hung upon 
 the lips of Daniel Wilson, afterwards Bishop of 
 Calcutta, as in two sermons at St. John's Chapel, 
 he gave the history of Scott's life and death. 
 I had been possessed of his Essays from a boy ; 
 his Commentary I bought when I was an under- 
 graduate. 
 
 What, I suppose, will strike any reader of 
 Scott's history and writings, is his bold unworld- 
 liness and vigorous independence of mind. He 
 followed truth wherever it led him, beginning 
 
MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 with Unitarianism, and ending in a zealous faith 
 in the Holy Trinity. It was he who first planted 
 deep in my mind that fundamental truth of 
 religion. With the assistance of Scott's Essays, 
 and the admirable work of Jones of Nayland, 
 
 1 made a collection of Scripture texts in proof 
 of the doctrine, with remarks (I think) of my 
 own upon them, before I was sixteen; and a 
 few months later I drew up a series of texts 
 in support of each verse of the Athanasian 
 Creed. These papers I have still. 
 
 Besides his unworldlinss, what I also admired 
 in Scott was his resolute opposition to Anti- 
 nomianism, and the minutely practical character 
 of his writings. They show him to be a true 
 Englishman, and I deeply felt his influence ; and 
 for years I used almost as proverbs what I 
 considered to be the scope and issue of his 
 doctrine, e Holiness before peace ', and e Growth 
 is the only evidence of life/ 
 
 Calvinists make a sharp separation between 
 the elect and the world ; there is much in this 
 that is parallel or cognate to the Catholic doc- 
 trine ; but they go on to say, as I understand 
 them, very differently from Catholicism — that 
 the converted and the unconverted can be dis- 
 criminated by man, that the justified are conscious 
 of their state of justification, and that the re- 
 generate cannot fall away. Catholics, on the 
 other hand, shade and soften the awful antag- 
 onism between good and evil, which is one of 
 their dogmas, by holding that there is a great 
 difference in point of gravity between sin and 
 sin, that there is the possibility and the danger 
 of falling away, and that there is no certain 
 knowledge given to any one that he is simply 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 7 
 
 in a state of grace, and much less that he is 
 to persevere to the end: of the Calvinistic tenets, 
 the only one which took root in my mind was 
 the fact of heaven and hell, divine favour and 
 divine wrath, of the justified and the unjustified. 
 The notion that the regenerate and the justified 
 were one and the same, and that the regenerate, 
 as such, had the gift of perseverance, remained 
 with me not many years, as I have said already. 
 
 This main Catholic doctrine of the warfare 
 between the City of God and the powers of 
 darkness was also deeply impressed upon my 
 mind by a work of a very opposite character, 
 Law's Serious Call, 
 
 From this time, I have given a full inward 
 assent and belief to the doctrine of eternal 
 punishment, as delivered by our Lord Himself, 
 in as true a sense as I hold that of eternal 
 happiness ; though I have tried in various ways 
 to make that truth less terrible to the reason. 
 
 Now I come to two other works, which pro- 
 duced a deep impression on me in the same 
 autumn of 181 6, when I was fifteen years old, 
 each contrary to each, and planting in me the 
 seeds of an intellectual inconsistency which 
 disabled me for a long course of \ears. I read 
 Joseph Milner's Church History, and was nothing 
 short of enamoured of the long extracts from 
 St Augustine and the other Fathers which I 
 found there. I read them as being the religion 
 of the primitive Christians : but simultaneously 
 with Milner, I read Newton's On the Prophecies, 
 and in consequence became most firmly convinced 
 that the Pope was the Antichrist predicted by 
 Daniel, St Paul, and St John. My imagination 
 was stained by the effects of this doctrine up 
 
5 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 to the year 1843; it had been obliterated from 
 my reason and judgment at an earlier date, 
 but the thought remained upon me as a sort 
 of false conscience. Hence came that conflict of 
 mind, which so many have felt besides myself; 
 leading some men to make a compromise between 
 two ideas, so inconsistent with each other, driving 
 others to beat out the one idea or the other from 
 their minds, and ending in my own case, after 
 many years of intellectual unrest, in the gradual 
 decay and extinction of one of them — I do not 
 say in its violent death, for why should I not 
 have murdered it sooner, if I murderecKt at all ? 
 I am obliged to mention, though I do it with 
 great reluctance, another deep imagination, which 
 at this time, the autumn of 1816, took possession 
 of me, — there can be no mistake about the fact, 
 viz. that it was the will of God that I should 
 lead a single life. This anticipation, which has 
 held its ground almost continuously ever since — 
 with the break of a month now and a month 
 then, up to 1829, and, after that date, without 
 any break at all — was more or less connected, 
 in my mind, with the notion that my calling in 
 life would require such a sacrifice as celibacy 
 involved ; as, for instance, missionary work among 
 the heathen, to which I had a great drawing 
 for some years. It also strengthened my feeling 
 of separation from the visible world, of which 
 I have spoken above. 
 
 In 1822 I came under very different influences 
 from those to which I had hitherto been subjected. 
 At that time, Mr Whately, as he was then, after- 
 wards Archbishop of Dublin, for the few months 
 he remained in Oxford, which he was leaving for 
 
TO THE YEAR 1838 9 
 
 good, showed great kindness to me. He renewed 
 it in 1825, when he became Principal of Alban 
 Hall, making me his Vice- Principal and Tutor. 
 Of Dr Whately I will speak presently, for from 
 1822 to 1825 I saw most of the present Provost 
 of Oriel, Dr Hawkins, at that time Vicar of 
 St Mary's; and, when I took orders in 1824, 
 and had a curacy at Oxford, then, during the 
 Long Vacations, I was especially thrown into 
 his company. I can say with a full heart, that 
 I love him, and have never ceased to love him ; 
 and I thus preface what otherwise might sound 
 rude, that in the course of the many years in 
 which we were together afterwards, he provoked 
 me very much from time to time, though I am 
 perfectly certain that I have provoked him a 
 great deal more. Moreover, in me such provoca- 
 tion was unbecoming, both because he was the 
 Head of my College, and because in the first 
 years that I knew him, he had been in many 
 ways of great service to my mind. 
 
 He was the first who taught me to weigh my 
 words, and to be cautious in my statements. 
 He led me to that mode of limiting and clearing 
 my sense in discussion and in controversy, and 
 of distinguishing between cognate ideas, and of 
 obviating mistakes by anticipation, which to my 
 surprise has been since considered, even in 
 quarters friendly to me, to savour of the polem- 
 ics of Rome. He is a man of most exact 
 mind himself, and he used to snub me severely, 
 on reading, as he was kind enough to do, the 
 first sermons that I wrote, and other composi- 
 tions which I was engaged upon. 
 
 Then, as to doctrine, he was the means of 
 great additions to my belief. As I have noticed 
 
10 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 elsewhere, he gave me the Treatise on Apostolical 
 Preaching, by Summer, afterwards Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, from which I learned to give up 
 my remaining Calvinism, and to receive the 
 doctrine of Baptismal Regeneration. In many 
 other ways, too, he was of use to me, on subjects 
 semi-religious and semi-scholastic. 
 
 It was Dr Hawkins, too, who taught me to 
 anticipate, that, before many years were over, 
 there would be an attack made upon the books 
 and the canon of Scripture. I was brought to 
 the same belief by the conversation of Mr Blanco 
 White, who also led me to have freer views on 
 the subject of inspiration than were usual in 
 the Church of England at the time. 
 
 There is one other principle whicli I gained 
 from Dr Hawkins, more directly bearing upon 
 Catholicism, than any that I have mentioned; 
 and that is the doctrine of Tradition. When I 
 was an undergraduate, I heard him preach in 
 the University Pulpit his celebrated sermon on 
 the subject, and recollect how long it appeared 
 to me, though he was at that time a very 
 striking preacher; but, when I read it and 
 studied it as his gift, it made a most serious 
 impression upon me. He does not go one step, 
 I think, beyond the high Anglican doctrine, 
 nay he does not reach it; but he does his 
 work thoroughly, and his view was original 
 with him, and his subject was a novel one at 
 the time. He lays down a proposition, self- 
 evident as soon as stated, to those who have 
 at all examined the structure of Scripture, viz. 
 that the sacred text was never intended to 
 teach doctrine, but only to prove it, and that, if 
 we would learn doctrine, we must have recourse 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 11 
 
 to the formularies of the Church ; for instance 
 to the Catechism, and to the Creeds. He 
 considers, that, after learning from them the 
 doctrines of Christianity, the inquirer must 
 verify them by Scripture. This view, most 
 true in its outline, most fruitful in its con- 
 sequences, opened upon me a large field of 
 thought. Dr Whately held it too. One of its 
 effects was to strike at the root of the principle 
 on which the Bible Society was set up. I be- 
 longed to its Oxford Association; it became a 
 matter of time when I should withdraw my 
 name from its subscription-list, though I did 
 not do so at once. 
 
 It is with pleasure that I pay here a tribute 
 to the memory of the Rev. William James, then 
 Fellow of Oriel; who, about the year 1823, 
 taught me the doctrine of Apostolical Succes- 
 sion, in the course of a walk, I think, round 
 Christ Church meadow : I recollect being some- 
 what impatient on the subject at the time. 
 
 It was at about this date, I suppose, that I 
 read Bishop Butler's Analogy; the study of 
 which has been to so many, as it was to me, 
 an era in their religious opinions. Its inculcation 
 of a visible Church, the oracle of truth and a 
 pattern of sanctity, of the duties of external 
 religion, and of the historical character of Re- 
 velation, are characteristics of this great work 
 which strike the reader at once ; for myself, if 
 I may attempt to determine what I most gained 
 from it, it lay in two points, which I shall have 
 an opportunity of dwelling on in the sequel ; they 
 are the underlying principles of a great portion 
 of my teaching. First, the very idea of an 
 analogy between the separate works of God 
 
12 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 leads to the conclusion, that the system which 
 is of less importance is economically or sacra- 
 mentally connected with the more momentous 
 system, and of this conclnsion the theory, to 
 which I was inclined as a boy, viz. the unreality 
 of material phenomena, is an ultimate resolution. 
 At this time I did not make the distinction 
 between matter itself and its phenomena, which 
 is so necessary and so obvious in discussing the 
 subject. Secondly, Butler's doctrine that Pro- 
 bability is the guide of life led me, at least 
 under the teaching to which a few years later 
 I was introduced, to the question of the logical 
 cogency of Faith, on which I have written so 
 much. Thus to Butler I trace those two prin- 
 ciples of my teaching, which have led to a charge 
 against me both of fancifulness and of scepticism. 
 And now, as to Dr Whately. I owe him a 
 great deal. He was a man of generous and 
 warm heart. He was particularly loyal to his 
 friends, and to use the common phrase, 'all 
 his geese were swans '. While I was still awkward 
 and timid-, in 1822, he took me by the hand, 
 and acted the part to me of a gentle and en- 
 couraging instructor. He, emphatically, opened 
 my mind, and taught me to think and to use 
 my reason. After being first noticed by him, in 
 1822, I became very intimate with him in 1825, 
 when I was his Vice- Principal at Alban Hall. 
 I gave up that office in 1826, when I became 
 Tutor of my College, and his hold upon me 
 gradually relaxed. He had done his work towards 
 me, or nearly so, when he had taught me to 
 see with my own eyes, and to walk with my 
 own feet. Not that I had not a good deal to 
 learn from others still, but I influenced them 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 13 
 
 as well as they me, and co-operated rather than 
 merely concurred with them. As to Dr Whately, 
 his mind was too different from mine for us 
 to remain long on one line. I recollect how 
 dissatisfied he was with an article of mine in 
 the London Review, which Blanco White, good- 
 humouredly, only called Platonic. When I was 
 diverging from him (which he did not like), I 
 thought of dedicating my first book to him, in 
 words to the effect, that he had not only taught 
 me to think, but to think for myself. He left 
 Oxford in 1831 ; after that, as far as I can re- 
 collect, I never saw him but twice — when he 
 visited the University; once in the street, once 
 in a room. From the time that he left, I have 
 always felt a real affection for what I must call 
 his memory ; for thenceforward he made himself 
 dead to me. My reason told me that it was 
 impossible that we could have got on together 
 longer; yet I loved him too much to bid him 
 farewell without pain. After a few years had 
 passed, I began to believe that his influence on 
 me in a higher respect than intellectual advance 
 (I will not say through his fault) had not been 
 satisfactory. I believe that he has inserted 
 sharp things in his later works about me. 
 They have never come in my way, and I have 
 not thought it necessary to seek out what 
 would pain me so much in the reading. 
 
 What he did for me in point of religious 
 opinion was first to teach me the existence of 
 the Church, as a substantive body or corporation ; 
 next to fix in me those anti-Erastian views of 
 Church polity, which were one of the most 
 prominent features of the Tractarian movement. 
 On this point, and, as far as I know, on this 
 
14 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 point alone, he and Hurrell Froude intimately 
 sympathized, though Froude' s development of 
 opinion here was of a later date. In the year 
 1826, in the course of a walk, he said much to 
 me about a work then just published, called 
 Letters on the Church, by an Episcopalian. He 
 said that it would make my blood boil. It was 
 certainly a most powerful composition. One of 
 our common friends told me, that, after reading 
 it, he could not keep still, but went on walking 
 up and down his room. It was ascribed at 
 once to Whately ; I gave eager expression to 
 the contrary opinion ; but I found the belief of 
 Oxford in the affirmative to be too strong for 
 me ; rightly or wrongly I yielded to the general 
 voice ; and I have never heard, then or since, 
 of any disclaimer of authorship on the part of 
 Dr. Whately. 
 
 The main positions of this able essay are 
 these; first that Church and State should be 
 independent of each other; he speaks of the 
 duty of protesting e against the profanation of 
 Christ's kingdom, by that double usurpation, the 
 interference of the Church in temporals, of the 
 State in spirituals' (p. 191); and, secondly, that 
 the Church may justly and by right retain its 
 property, though separated from the State. 
 'The clergy', he says (p. 133), ' though they 
 ought not to be the hired servants of the 
 Civil Magistrate, may justly retain their reven- 
 ues; and the State, though it has no right of 
 interference in spiritual concerns, not only is justly 
 entitled to support from the ministers of religion, 
 and from all other Christians, but would, under 
 the system I am recommending, obtain it much 
 more effectually.' The author of this work, 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 15 
 
 whoever he may be, argues out both these 
 points with great force and ingenuity, and with 
 a thorough-going vehemence, which, perhaps, we 
 may refer to the circumstance, that he wrote, 
 not in propria persona, but in the professed 
 character of a Scotch Episcopalian. His work 
 had a gradual, but a deep effect on my mind. 
 
 I am not aware of any other religious opinion 
 which I owe to Dr Whately. For his special 
 theological tenets I had no sympathy. In the 
 next year, 1827, he told me he considered that 
 I was Arianizing. The case was this : though at 
 that time I had not read Bishop Bull's Dejensio, 
 nor the Fathers, I was just then very strong for 
 that ante-Nicene view of the Trinitarian doctrine, 
 which some writers, both Catholic and non- Catholic, 
 have accused of wearing a sort of Arian exterior. 
 This is the meaning of a passage in Froude's 
 Remains, in which he seems to accuse me of 
 speaking against the Athanasian Creed. I had 
 contrasted the two aspects of the Trinitarian 
 doctrine, which are respectively presented by 
 the Athanasian Creed and the Nicene. My 
 criticisms were to the effect, that some of the 
 verses of the former Creed were unnecessarily 
 scientific. This is a specimen of a certain dis- 
 dain for antiquity which had been growing on 
 me now for several years. It showed itself in 
 some flippant language against the Fathers in 
 the Encyclopaedia Metropolitana, about whom I 
 knew little at the time, except what I had 
 learnt as a boy from Joseph Milner. In writing 
 on the Scripture Miracles in 1 825-6, I had read 
 Middleton on The Miracles of the Early Church, 
 and had imbibed a portion of his spirit. 
 
 The truth is, I was beginning to prefer intellec- 
 
16 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 tual excellence to moral ; I was drifting in the 
 direction of liberalism. I was rudely awakened 
 from my dream at the end of 1827, by two great 
 blows — illness and bereavement. 
 
 In the beginning of 1829 came the formal 
 break between Dr Whately and me; Mr Peel's 
 attempted re-election was the occasion of it. 
 I think in 1828, or 1827, I had voted in the 
 minority, when the petition to Parliament against 
 the Catholic claims was brought into Convocation. 
 I did so mainly on the views suggested to me 
 by the theory of the Letters of an Episcopaliafi. 
 Also I disliked the bigoted f two bottle orthodox ', 
 as they were invidiously called. I took part 
 against Mr Peel on a simple academical, not 
 at all an ecclesiastical or a political, ground ; and 
 this I professed at the time. I considered that 
 Mr Peel had taken the University by surprise, 
 that he had no right to call upon us to turn 
 round on a sudden, and to expose ourselves 
 to the imputation of time-serving, and that a 
 great University ought not to be bullied, even 
 by a great Duke of Wellington. Also by this 
 time I was under the influence of Keble and 
 Froude; who, in addition to the reasons I have 
 given, disliked the Duke's change of policy as 
 dictated by liberalism. 
 
 Whately was considerably annoyed at me, 
 and he took a humourous revenge, of which 
 he had given me due notice beforehand. As 
 head of a house, he had duties of hospitality 
 to men of all parties; he asked a set of the 
 least intellectual men in Oxford to dinner, and 
 men most fond of port; he made me one of 
 the party; placed me between Provost This 
 and Principal That, and then asked me if I 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 1? 
 
 was proud of my friends. However, he had 
 a serious meaning in his act ; he saw, more 
 clearly than I could do, that I was separating 
 from his own friends for good and all. 
 
 Dr Whately attributed my leaving his clientela 
 to a wish on my part to be the head of a 
 party myself. I do not think that it was 
 deserved. My habitual feeling then and since 
 has been, that is was not I who sought friends, 
 but friends who sought me. Never man had 
 kinder or more indulgent friends than I have 
 had, but I expressed my own feeling as to the 
 mode in which I gained them, in this very 
 year 1829, in the course of a copy of verses. 
 Speaking of my blessings, I said: c Blessings of 
 friends, which to my door, unasked, unhoped, have 
 come \ They have come, they have gone ; they 
 came to my great joy, they went to my great 
 grief. He who gave, took away. Dr Whately' s 
 impression about me, however, admits of this 
 explanation : 
 
 During the first years of my residence at 
 Oriel, though proud of my College, I was not 
 at home there. I was very much alone, and I 
 used often to take my daily walk by myself. 
 I recollect once meeting Dr Copleston, then 
 Provost, with one of the Fellows. He turned 
 round, and with the kind courteousness which 
 sat so well on him, made me a bow, and said 
 'Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus'. At 
 that time, indeed, (from 1823) I had the intimacy 
 of my dear and true friend Dr Pusey, and could 
 not fail to admire and revere a soul so devoted 
 to the cause of religion, so full of good works, 
 so faithful in his affections ; but he left residence 
 when I was getting to know him well. As to 
 
18 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Dr Whately himself, he was too much my 
 superior to allow of my being at my ease with 
 him ; and to no one in Oxford at this time did 
 I open my heart fully and familiarly. But 
 things changed in 1 826. At that time 1 became 
 one of the Tutors of my College, and this gave 
 me position; besides I had written one or two 
 Essays which had been well received. I began 
 to be known. I preached my first University 
 Sermon. Next year I was one of the Public 
 Examiners for the B.A. degree. It was to me 
 like the feeling of spring weather after winter ; 
 and, if I may so speak, I came out of my 
 shell; I remained out of it till 1841. 
 
 The two persons who knew me best at that 
 time are still alive, beneficed clergymen, no 
 longer my friends. They could tell better than 
 any one else what I was in those years. From 
 this time my tongue was, as it were, loosened, 
 and I spoke spontaneously and without effort. 
 A shrewd man, who knew me at this time, said, 
 'Here is a man who, when he is silent, will 
 never begin to speak ; and, when he once begins 
 to speak, will never stop \ It was at this time 
 that I began to have influence, which steadily 
 increased for a course of years. I gained upon 
 my pupils, and was in particular intimate and 
 affectionate with two of our probationer Fellows, 
 Robert I. Wilberforce (afterwards Archdeacon) 
 and Richard Hurrell Froude. Whately then, an 
 acute man, perhaps saw around me the signs 
 of an incipient party of which I was not conscious 
 myself. And thus we discern the first elements 
 of that movement afterwards called Tractarian. 
 
 The true and primary author of it, however, 
 as is usual with great motive-powers, was out 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 19 
 
 of sight. Having carried off, as a mere boy, the 
 highest honours of the University, he had turned 
 from the admiration which haunted his steps, 
 and sought for a better and holier satisfaction 
 in pastoral work in the country. Need I say 
 that I am speaking of John Keble? The first 
 time that I was in a room with him was on 
 occasion of my election to a fellowship at Oriel, 
 when I was sent for into the Tower, to shake 
 hands with the Provost and Fellows. How is 
 that hour fixed in my memory after the changes 
 of forty-two years, forty-two this very day on 
 which I write ! I have lately had a letter in 
 my hands, which I sent at the time to my 
 great friend, John Bowden, with whom I passed 
 almost exclusively my Undergraduate years. 
 'I had to hasten to the Tower', I say to him, 
 ' to receive the congratulations of all the Fellows. 
 I bore it till Keble took my hand, and then 
 felt so abashed and unworthy of the honour 
 done me, that I seemed desirous of quite sinking 
 into the ground*. His had been the first name 
 which I had heard spoken of, with reverence 
 rather than admiration, when I came up to 
 Oxford. When, one day, I was walking in High 
 Street with my dear earliest friend just mentioned, 
 with what eagerness did he cry out, ' There's 
 Keble ' ! and with what awe did I look at him ! 
 Then at another time I heard a Master of Arts 
 of my college give an account how he had just 
 then had occasion to introduce himself on some 
 business to Keble, and how gentle, courteous, 
 and unaffected Keble had been, so as almost 
 to put him out of countenance. Then, too, it 
 was reported, truly or falsely, how a rising man 
 of brilliant reputation, the present Dean of 
 
20 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 St Paul's, Dr Milman, admired and loved him, 
 adding, that somehow he was unlike any one 
 else. However, at the time when I was elected 
 Fellow of Oriel, he was not in residence, and 
 he was shy of me for years in consequence of 
 the marks which I bore upon me of the evan- 
 gelical and liberal schools. At least so I have 
 ever thought. Hurrell Froude brought us together 
 about 1828: it is one of the sayings preserved 
 in his Remains : c Do you know the story of the 
 murderer who had done one good thing in his 
 life ? Well ; if I w T as ever asked what good deed 
 I had ever done, I should say that I had brought 
 Keble and Newman to understand each other.' 
 The Christian Year made its appearance in 
 1827. It is not necessary, and scarcely becoming, 
 to praise a book which has already become one 
 of the classics of the language. When the general 
 tone of religious literature was so nerveless and 
 impotent, as it was at that time, Keble struck 
 an original note and woke up in the hearts of 
 thousands a new music, the music of a school, 
 long unknown in England. Nor can I pretend 
 to analyze, in my own instance, the effect of 
 religious teaching so deep, so pure, so beautiful. 
 I have never till now tried to do so ; yet I think 
 I am not wrong ill saying, that the two main 
 intellectual truths which it brought home to me, 
 were the same two, which 1 had learned from 
 Butler, though recast in the creative mind of 
 my new master. The first of these was what 
 may be called, in a large sense of the word, 
 the Sacramental system ; that is, the doctrine 
 that material phenomena are both the types 
 and the instruments of real things unseen, a 
 doctrine which embraces not only what Angli- 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 21 
 
 cans as well as Catholics believe about Sacraments 
 properly so called, but also the article of f the 
 Communion of Saints ' in its fulness : and like- 
 wise the Mysteries of the faith. The connexion 
 of this philosophy of religion with what is some- 
 times called ' Berkeleyism ' has been mentioned 
 above ; I knew little of Berkeley at this time 
 except by name ; nor have I ever studied him. 
 
 On the second intellectual principle which I 
 gained from Mr Keble, I could say a great deal, 
 if this were the place for it. It runs through 
 very much that I have written, and has gained 
 for me many hard names. Butler teaches us that 
 probability is the guide of life. The danger of 
 this doctrine, in the case of many minds, is its 
 tendency to destroy in them absolute certainty, 
 leading them to consider every conclusion as 
 doubtful, and resolving truth into an opinion, 
 which it is safe to obey or to profess, but not 
 possible to embrace with full internal assent, 
 If this were to be allowed, then the celebrated 
 saying, c O God, if there be a God, save my soul, 
 if I have a soul ! ' would be the highest measure 
 of devotion — but who can really pray to a Being 
 about whose existence he is seriously in doubt ? \ 
 
 I considered that Mr Keble met this difficulty 
 by ascribing the firmness of assent which we give 
 to religious doctrine, not to the probabilities which 
 introduced it, but to the living power of faith and 
 love which accepted it. In matters of religion, 
 he seemed to say, it is not merely probability 
 which makes us intellectually certain, but 
 probability as it is put to account by faith and 
 love. It is faith and love which give to proba- 
 bility a force which it has not in itself. Faith 
 and love are directed towards an Object; in 
 
22 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 the vision of that Object they live; it is that 
 Object, received in faith and love, which renders 
 it reasonable to take probability as sufficient 
 for internal conviction. Thus the argument about 
 Probability, in the matter of religion, became 
 an argument from Personality, which in fact is 
 one form of the argument from Authority. 
 
 In illustration, Mr Keble used to quote the 
 words of the Psalm: '1 will guide thee with 
 mine eye. Be ye not like to horse and mule, 
 which have no understanding ; whose mouths 
 must be held with bit and bridle, lest they 
 fall upon thee'. This is the very difference, 
 he used to say, between slaves, and friends, or 
 children.' Friends do not ask for literal commands ; 
 but, from their knowledge of the speaker, they 
 understand his half-words, and from love of him 
 they anticipate his wishes. Hence it is that, 
 in his Poem for St Bartholomew s Day, he speaks 
 of the ' Eye of God's word ' ; and in the note 
 quotes Mr Miller, of Worcester College, who 
 remarks, in his Bampton Lectures, on the special 
 power of Scripture, as having 'this Eye, like 
 that of a portrait, uniformly fixed upon us, turn 
 where we will'. The view thus suggested by 
 Mr Keble is brought forward in one of the 
 earliest of the Tracts for the Times. In No. 8 
 I say, 'The Gospel is a Law of Liberty. We 
 are treated as sons, not as servants ; not sub- 
 jected to a code of formal commandments, but 
 addressed as those who love God, and wish to 
 please Him. ' 
 
 I did not at all dispute this view of the 
 matter, for I made use of it myself; but I was 
 dissatisfied, because it did not go to the root 
 of the difficulty. It was beautiful and religious, 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 23 
 
 but it did not even profess to be logical ; and, 
 accordingly, I tried to complete it by consider- 
 ations of my own, which are implied in my 
 University Sermons, Essay on Ecclesiastical Miracles, 
 and Essay on Development of Doctrine. My argu- 
 ment is in outline as follows : that that absolute 
 certitude which we were able to possess, whether 
 as to the truths of natural theology, or as to 
 the fact of a revelation, was the result of an 
 assemblage of concurring and converging proba- 
 bilities, and that, bflth according to the con- 
 stitution of the human mind and the will of 
 its Maker, that certitude was a habit of mind, 
 that certainty was a quality of propositions; 
 that probabilities which did not reach to logical 
 certainty, might create a mental certitude ; that 
 the certitude thus created might equal in measure 
 and strength the certitude which was created 
 by the strictest scientific demonstration; and 
 that to have such certitude might, in given cases 
 and to given individuals, be a plain duty, though 
 not to others in other circumstances: 
 
 Moreover, that as there were probabilities 
 which sufficed to create certitude, so there were 
 other probabilities which were legitimately adapt- 
 ed to create opinion ; that it might be quite as 
 much a matter of duty in given cases and to 
 given persons to have about a fact an opinion 
 of a definite strength and consistency, as in the 
 case of greater or of more numerous probabilities 
 it was a duty to have a certitude ; that, accord- 
 ingly, we were bound to be more or less sure, 
 on a sort of (as it were) graduated scale of 
 assent, viz. according as the probabilities attach- 
 ing to a professed fact were brought home to 
 us, and, as the case might be, to entertain about 
 
24 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 it a pious belief, or a pious opinion, or a religious 
 conjecture, or ot least, a tolerance of such belief, 
 or opinion, or conjecture in others; that on the 
 other hand, as it was a duty to have a belief, 
 of more or less strong texture, in given cases, 
 so in other cases it was a duty not to believe, 
 not to opine, not to conjecture, not even to 
 tolerate the notion that a professed fact was 
 true, inasmuch as it would be credulity, or 
 superstition, or some other moral fault, to do 
 so. This was the region of Private Judgment 
 in religion ; that is, of a Private Judgment, not 
 formed arbitrarily, and according to one's fancy 
 or liking, but conscientiously, and under a sense 
 of duty. 
 
 Considerations such as these throw a new 
 light on the subject of Miracles, and they seem 
 to have led me to re-consider the view which 
 I took of them in my Essay in 1825-6. I do 
 not know what was the date of this change 
 in me, nor of the train of ideas on which it 
 was founded. That there had been already 
 great miracles, as those of Scripture, as the 
 Resurrection, was a fact establishing the principle 
 that the laws of nature had sometimes been 
 suspended by their Divine Author ; and since 
 what had happened once might happen again, 
 a certain probability, at least no kind of improb- 
 ability, was attached to the idea, taken in 
 itself, of miraculous intervention in later times, 
 and miraculous accounts were to be regarded 
 in connexion with the verisimilitude, scope, 
 instrument, character, testimony, and circum- 
 stances, with which they presented themselves 
 to us ; and, according to the final result of 
 those various considerations, it was our duty to 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 25 
 
 be sure, or to believe, or to opine, or to surmise, 
 or to tolerate, or to denounce. The main 
 difference between my Essay on Miracles in 1826 
 and my Essay in 1842 is this: that in 1826 
 I considered that miracles were sharply divided 
 into two classes, those which were to be received, 
 and those which were to be rejected ; whereas 
 in 1842 I saw that they were to be regarded 
 according to their greater or less probability, 
 which was in some cases sufficient to create 
 certitude about them, iu other cases only belief 
 or opinion. 
 
 Moreover, the argument from Analogy, on 
 which this view of the question was founded, 
 suggested to me something besides, in recom- 
 mendation of the Ecclesiastical Miracles. It 
 fastened itself upon the theory of Church 
 History which I had learned as a boy from 
 Joseph Milner. It is Milner's doctrine, that 
 upon the visible Church come down from above, 
 from time to time, large and temporary Effu- 
 sions of divine grace. This is the leading idea 
 of his work. He begins by speaking of the 
 Day of Pentecost, as marking ' the first of those 
 Effusions of the Spirit of God, which from age 
 to age have visited the earth since the coming 
 of Christ', (vol. i. p. 3). In a note he adds 
 that 'in the term "Effusion" there is not here 
 included the idea of the miraculous or extra- 
 ordinary operations of the Spirit of God ' ; but 
 still it was natural for me, admitting Milner's 
 general theory, and applying to it the principle 
 of analogy, not to stop short at his abrupt ipse 
 dixit, but boldly to pass forward to the conclu- 
 sion, on other grounds plausible, that, as miracles 
 accompanied the first effusion of grace, so they 
 
26 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 might accompany the later. It is surely a 
 natural and, on the whole, a true anticipation 
 (though of course there are exceptions in par- 
 ticular cases), that gifts and graces go together ; 
 now, according to the ancient Catholic doctrine, 
 the gift of miracles was viewed as the attendant 
 and shadow of transcendent sanctity ; and more- 
 over, as such sanctity was not of every day's 
 occurrence, nay further, as one period of Church 
 history differed widely from another, and, as 
 Joseph Milner would say, there have been 
 generations or centuries of degeneracy or dis- 
 order, and times of revival, and as one region 
 might be in the mid-day of religious fervour, 
 and another in twilight or gloom, there was no 
 force in the popular argument, that, because 
 we did not see miracles with our own eyes, 
 miracles had not happened in former times, or 
 were not now at this very time taking place in 
 distant places — but I must not dwell longer on 
 a subject, to which in a few words it is impos- 
 sible to do justice. 
 
 Hurrell Froude was a pupil of Keble's, formed 
 by him, and in turn reacting upon him. I 
 knew him first in 1826, and was in the closest 
 and most affectionate friendship with him from 
 about 1829 till his death in 1836. He was a 
 man of the highest gifts — so truly many-sided, 
 that it would be presumptuous in me to at- 
 tempt to describe him, except under those 
 aspects, in which he came before me. Nor have 
 I here to speak of the gentleness and tender- 
 ness of nature, the playfulness, the free elastic 
 force, and graceful versatility of mind, and the 
 patient winning considerateness in discussion. 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 27 
 
 which endeared him to those to whom he opened 
 his heart ; for I am all along engaged upon matters 
 of belief and opinion, and am introducing others 
 into my narrative, not for their own sake, or 
 because I love, and have loved them, so much 
 as because, and so far as they have influenced 
 my theological views. In this respect then, I 
 speak of Hurrell Froude — in his intellectual 
 aspect — as a man of high genius, brimful, and 
 overflowing with ideas and views, in him original, 
 which were too many and strong even for his 
 bodily strength, and which crowded and jostled 
 against each other in their effort after distinct 
 shape and expression. And he had an intellect 
 as critical and logical as it was speculative and 
 bold. Dying prematurely, as he did, and in 
 the conflict and transition-state of opinion, his 
 religious views never reached their ultimate 
 conclusion, by the very reason of their multitude 
 and their depth. His opinions arrested and 
 influenced me, even when they did not gain 
 my assent. He professed openly his admiration 
 of the Church of Rome, and his hatred of the 
 Reformers. He delighted in the notion of an 
 hierarchical system, of sacerdotal power and of 
 full ecclesiastical liberty. He felt scorn of the 
 maxim, 'The Bible and the Bible only is the 
 religion of Protestants ' ; and he gloried in accept- 
 ing Tradition as a main instrument of religious 
 teaching. He had a high, severe idea of the 
 intrinsic excellence of Virginity; and he con- 
 sidered the Blessed Virgin its great Pattern. 
 He delighted in thinking of the Saints ; he had 
 a keen appreciation of the idea of sanctity, its 
 possibility and its heights ; and he was more 
 than inclined to believe a large amount of 
 
28 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 miraculous interference as occurring in the early 
 and middle ages. He embraced the principle 
 of penance and mortification. He had a deep 
 devotion to the Real Presence, in which he had 
 a firm faith. He was powerfully drawn to the 
 Medieval Church, but not to the Primitive. 
 
 He had a keen insight into abstract truth ; 
 but he was an Englishman to the backbone in 
 his severe adherence to the real and the concrete. 
 He had a most classical taste, and a genius for 
 philosophy and art ; and he was fond of historical 
 inquiry, and the politics of religion. He had no 
 turn for theology as such. He had no apprecia- 
 tion of the writings of the Fathers, of the detail 
 or development of doctrine, of the definite tradi- 
 tions of the Church viewed in their matter, of 
 the teaching of the Ecumenical Councils, or of 
 the controversies out of which they arose. He 
 took an eager, courageous view of things on the 
 whole. I should say that his power of entering 
 into the minds of others did not equal his other 
 gifts ; he could not believe, for instance, that I 
 really held the Roman Church to be Antichristian. 
 On many points he would not believe but that 
 I agreed with him, when I did not. He seemed 
 not to understand my difficulties. His were of 
 a different kind, the contrariety between theory 
 and fact. He was a high Tory of the Cavalier 
 stamp, and was disgusted with the Toryism of 
 the opponents of the Reform Bill. He was 
 smitten with the love of the Theocratic Church ; 
 he went abroad and was shocked by the degen- 
 eracy which he thought he saw in the Catholics 
 of Italy. 
 
 It is difficult to enumerate the precise addi- 
 tions to my theological creed which I derived 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 c 2{) 
 
 from a friend to whom I owe so much. He 
 made me look with admiration towards the 
 Church of Rome, and in the same degree to 
 dislike the Reformation. He fixed deep in me 
 the idea of devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and 
 he led me gradually to believe in the Real 
 Presence. 
 
 There is one remaining source of my opinions 
 to be mentioned, and that far from the least 
 important. In proportion as I moved out of the 
 shadow of liberalism which had hung over my 
 course, my early devotion towards the Fathers 
 returned; and in the Long Vacation of 1828 I 
 set about to read them chronologically, beginning 
 with St Ignatius and St Justin. About 1830 a 
 proposal was made to me by Mr Hugh Rose, 
 who with Mr Lyall (afterwards Dean of Canter- 
 bury) was providing writers for a Theological 
 Library, to furnish them with a History of the 
 Principal Councils. I accepted it, and at once 
 set to work on the Council of Nicaea. It was 
 launching myself on an ocean with currents 
 innumerable ; and I was drifted back first to the 
 ante-Nicene history, and then to the Church of 
 Alexandria. The work at last appeared under 
 the title of The Arians of the Fourth Century ; 
 and, of its 422 pages, the first 117 consisted of 
 introductory matter, and the Council of Nicaea 
 did not appear till the 254th, and then occupied 
 at most twenty pages. 
 
 I do not know when I first learnt to consider 
 that Antiquity was the true exponent of the 
 doctrines of Christianity, and the basis of the 
 Church of England; but I take it for granted 
 that Bishop Bull, whose works at this time I 
 
30 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 read, was my chief introduction to this principle. 
 The course of reading which I pursued in the 
 composition of my work was directly adapted 
 to develop it in my mind. What principally 
 attracted me in the Ante-Nicene period was the 
 great Church of Alexandria, the historical centre 
 of teaching in those times. Of Rome, for some 
 centuries, comparatively little is known. The 
 battle of Arianism was first fought in Alexandria ; 
 Athanasius, the champion of the truth, was Bishop 
 of Alexandria ; and in his writings he refers to 
 the great religious names of an earlier date, to 
 Origen, Dionysius, and others who were the glory 
 of its see, or of its school. The broad philo- 
 sophy of Clement and Origen carried me away ; 
 the philosophy, not the theological doctrine ; 
 and I have drawn out some features of it in 
 my volume, with the zeal and freshness, but 
 with the partiality of a neophyte. Some portions 
 of their teaching, magnificent in themselves, came 
 like music to my inward ear, as if the response 
 to ideas, which, with little external to encourage 
 them, I had cherished so long. These were 
 based on the mystical or sacramental principle, 
 and spoke of the various Economies or Dispen- 
 sations of the Eternal. I understood them to 
 mean that the exterior world, physical and 
 historical, was but the outward manifestation of 
 realities greater than itself. Nature was a par- 
 able * : Scripture was an allegory : pagan liter- 
 ature, philosophy, and mythology, properly 
 understood, were but a preparation for the 
 Gospel. The Greek poets and sages were in a 
 certain sense prophets ; for ' thoughts beyond 
 
 * Vide Mr Morris's beautiful poem with this title. 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 31 
 
 their thought to those high bards were given'. 
 There had been a divine dispensation granted 
 to the Jews ; there had been in some sense a 
 dispensation carried on in favour of the Gentiles. 
 He who had taken the seed of Jacob for His 
 elect people, had not therefore cast the rest of 
 mankind out of His sight. In the fulness of 
 time both Judaism and Paganism had come to 
 nought : the outward framework, which concealed, 
 yet suggested, the Living Truth, had never been 
 intended to last, and it was dissolving under 
 the beams of the Sun of Justice behind it, and 
 through it. The process of change had been 
 slow ; it had been done, not rashly, but by rule 
 and measure, 'at sundry times and in divers 
 manners ', first one disclosure and then another, 
 till the whole was brought into full manifestation. 
 And thus room was made for the anticipation 
 of further and deeper disclosures, of truths still 
 under the veil of the letter, and in their season 
 to be revealed. The visible world still remains 
 without its divine interpretation ; Holy Church 
 in her sacraments and her hierarchical appoint- 
 ments, will remain even to the end of the world, 
 only a symbol of those heavenly facts which fill 
 eternity. Her mysteries are but the expressions 
 in human language of truths to which the human 
 mind is unequal. It is evident how much there 
 was in all this in correspondence with the 
 thoughts which had attracted me when I was 
 young, and with the doctrine which I have 
 already connected with the Analogy and the 
 Christian Year. 
 
 I suppose it was to the Alexandrian school, 
 and to the early Church, that I owe in particular 
 what I definitely held about the Angels. I 
 
MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 viewed them, not only as the ministers employed 
 by the Creator in the Jewish and Christian 
 dispensations, as we find on the face of Scrip- 
 ture, but as carrying on, as Scripture also implies, 
 the Economy of the Visible World. I considered 
 them as the real causes of motion, light, and 
 life, and of those elementary principles of the 
 physical universe, which, when offered in their 
 developments to our senses, suggest to us the 
 notion of cause and effect, and of what are 
 called the laws of nature. I have drawn 
 out this doctrine in my Sermon for Michael- 
 mas day, written not later than 1 834. I say of the 
 Angels : e Every breath of air and ray of light and 
 heat, every beautiful prospect, is, as it were, the 
 skirts of their garments, the waving of the robes 
 of those whose faces see God '. Again, I ask what 
 would be the thoughts of a man who, 'when 
 examining a flower, or a herb, or a pebble, or 
 a ray of light, which he treats as something so 
 beneath him in the scale of existence, suddenly 
 discovered that he was in the presence of some 
 powerful being who was hidden behind the visible 
 things he was inspecting, who, though concealing 
 his wise hand, was giving them their beauty, 
 grace, and perfection, as being God's instrument 
 for the purpose, nay, whose robe and ornaments 
 those objects were, which he was so eager to 
 analyze ? ' and I therefore remark, that ' we may 
 say with grateful and simple hearts, with the 
 Three Holy Children, "O all ye works of the 
 Lord, etc., etc., bless ye the Lord, praise Him, 
 and magnify Him for ever.' ,, 
 
 Also, besides the hosts of evil spirits, I con- 
 sidered there was a middle race, $xi[x6viz, neither 
 in heaven, nor in hell ; partially fallen, capricious, 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 33 
 
 wayward ; noble or crafty, benevolent or mali- 
 cious, as the case might be. They gave a sort 
 of inspiration or intelligence to races, nations, 
 and classes of men. Hence the action of bodies 
 politic, and associations, which is so different 
 often from that of the individuals who compose 
 them. Hence the character and the instinct of 
 states and governments, of religious communities 
 and communions. I thought they were inhabited 
 by unseen intelligences. My preference of the 
 Personal to the Abstract would naturally lead 
 me to this view. I thought it countenanced 
 by the mention of l the Prince of Persia ' in the 
 Prophet Daniel ; and I think I considered that 
 it was of such intermediate beings that the 
 Apocalypse spoke, when it introduced 'the 
 Angels of the Seven Churches.' 
 
 In 1837 I made a further development of this 
 doctrine. I said to my great friend, Samuel Francis 
 Wood, in a letter which came into my hands on 
 his death, 'I have an idea. The mass of the 
 Fathers (Justin, Athenagoras, Irenaeus, Clement, 
 Tertullian, Origen, Lactantius, Sulpicius, Ambrose, 
 Nazianzen) hold that, though Satan fell from the 
 beginning, the Angels fell before the deluge, fall- 
 ing in love with the daughters of men. This has 
 lately come across me as a remarkable solution 
 of a notion which I cannot help holding. Daniel 
 speaks as if each nation had its guardian Angel. 
 I cannot but think that there are beings with 
 a great deal of good in them, yet with great 
 defects, who are the animating principles of 
 certain institutions, etc., etc... Take England, 
 with many high virtues, and yet a low Catholicism. 
 It seems to me that John Bull is a spirit neither 
 of heaven nor hell. . Has not the Christian Church, 
 
 3 
 
34 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 in its parts; surrendered itself to one or other of 
 these simulations of the truth ? . . How are we 
 to avoid Scylla and Charybdis, and go straight 
 on to the very image of Christ?' etc., etc. 
 
 I am aware that what I have been saying will, 
 with many men, be doing credit to my imagination 
 at the expense of my judgment: 'Hippoclides 
 doesn't care'; I am not setting myself up as a 
 pattern of good sense or of any thing else ; I 
 am but vindicating myself from the charge of 
 dishonesty. There is indeed another view of 
 the Economy brought out, in the course of the 
 same dissertation on the subject, in my History 
 of the Avians, which has afforded matter for the 
 latter imputation ; but I reserve it for the con- 
 cluding portion of my Reply. 
 
 While I was engaged in writing my work upon 
 the Arians, great events were happening at home 
 and abroad, which brought out into form and 
 passionate expression the various beliefs which 
 had so gradually been winning their way into 
 my mind. Shortly before, there had been a 
 Revolution in France; the Bourbons had been 
 dismissed : and I believed that it was unchristian 
 for nations to cast off their governors, and, much 
 more, sovereigns who had the Divine Right of 
 inheritance. Again, the great Reform Agitation 
 was going on around me as I wrote. The Whigs 
 had come into power ; Lord Grey had told the 
 Bishops to set their house in order, and some 
 of the prelates had been insulted and threat- 
 ened in the streets of London. The vital question 
 was how were we to keep the Church from being 
 liberalized ? There was such apathy on the subject 
 in some quarters ; such imbecile alarm irt others ; 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 35 
 
 the true principles of Churchmanship seemed so 
 radically decayed, and there was such distraction 
 in the councils of the Clergy. The Bishop of 
 London of the day, an active and open-hearted 
 man, had been for years engaged in diluting the 
 high orthodoxy of the Church by the introduction 
 of the Evangelical body into places of influence 
 and trust. He had deeply offended men who 
 agreed with myself, by an off-hand saying (as 
 it was reported) to the effect that belief in the 
 Apostolical succession had gone out with the 
 Non-jurors. ' We can count you ', he said to some 
 of the gravest and most venerated persons of 
 the old school. And the Evangelical party itself 
 seemed, with their late successes, to have lost 
 that simplicity and unworldliness which I admired 
 so much in Milner and Scott. It was not that I 
 did not venerate such men as the then Bishop 
 of Lichfield, and others of similar sentiments, 
 who were not yet promoted out of the ranks 
 of the Clergy, but I thought little of them as 
 a class. I thought they played into the hands 
 of the Liberals. With the Establishment thus 
 divided and threatened, thus ignorant of its true 
 strength, I compared that fresh vigorous power 
 of which I was reading in the first centuries. 
 In her triumphant zeal on behalf of that Primeval 
 Mystery, to which I had had so great a devotion 
 from my youth, I recognized the movement of my 
 Spiritual Mother. ' Incessu patuit Dea'. The self- 
 conquest of her Ascetics, the patience of her Mar- 
 tyrs, the irresistible determination of her Bishops, 
 the joyous swing of her advance, both exalted 
 and abashed me. I said to myself, 'Look on 
 this picture and on that ' ; I felt affection for 
 my own Church, but not tenderness; I felt 
 
36 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 dismay at her prospects, anger and scorn at 
 her do-nothing perplexity. I thought that if 
 Liberalism once got a footing within her, it 
 was sure of the victory in the event. I saw 
 that Reformation principles were powerless to 
 rescue her. As to leaving her, the thought never 
 crossed my imagination ; still, I ever kept before 
 me that there was something greater than the 
 Established Church, and that that was the Church 
 Catholic and Apostolic, set up from the beginning, 
 of which she was but the local presence and 
 organ. She was nothing, unless she was this. She 
 must be dealt with strongly, or she would be lost. 
 There was need of a second Reformation. 
 
 At this time I was disengaged from College 
 duties, and my health had suffered from the 
 labour involved in the composition of my volume. 
 It was ready for the Press in July, 1832, though 
 not published till the end of 1833. I was easily 
 persuaded to join Hurrell Froude and his father, 
 who were going to the south of Europe for the 
 health of the former. 
 
 We set out in December, 1 832. It was during 
 this expedition that my verses which are in the 
 Lyra Apostolica were written; a few indeed 
 before it, but not more than one or two of them 
 after it. Exchanging, as I was, definite tutorial 
 labours, and the literary quiet, and pleasant friend- 
 ships of the last six years, for foreign countries and 
 an unknown future, I naturally was led to think 
 that some inward change, as well as some larger 
 course of action, was coming upon me. At Whit- 
 church, while waiting for the down mail to Fal- 
 mouth, I wrote the verses about my Guardian 
 Angel, which begin with these words : c Are these 
 the tracks of some unearthly Friend ? ' and go on 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 37 
 
 to speak of ( the vision ' which haunted me ; that 
 vision is more or less brought out in the whole 
 series of these compositions. 
 
 I went to various coasts of the Mediterranean, 
 parted with my friends at Rome; went down 
 for the second time to Sicily, at the end of 
 April, and got back to England by Palermo in 
 the early part of July. The strangeness of 
 foreign life threw me back into myself; I found 
 pleasure in historical sites and beautiful scenes, 
 not in men and manners. We kept clear of 
 Catholics throughout our tour. I had a conversa- 
 tion with the Dean of Malta, a most pleasant 
 man, lately dead ; but it was about the Fathers, 
 and the Library of the great church. I knew 
 the Abbate Santini, at Rome, who did no more 
 than copy for me the Gregorian tones. Froude 
 and I made two calls upon Monsignore (now 
 Cardinal) Wiseman at the Collegio Inglese, 
 shortly before we left Rome. I do not recollect 
 being in a room with any other ecclesiastics, 
 except a Priest at Castro-Giovanni, in Sicily, 
 who called on me when I was ill, and with 
 whom I wished to hold a controversy. As to 
 Church Services, we attended the Tenebrae, at 
 the Sistine, for the sake of the Miserere; and 
 that was all. My general feeling was, ( All, 
 save the spirit of man, is divine'. I saw nothing 
 but what was external; of the hidden life of 
 Catholics I knew nothing. I was still more 
 driven back into myself, and felt my isolation. 
 England was in my thoughts solely, and the 
 news from England came rarely and imperfectly. 
 The Bill for the Suppression of the Irish Sees 
 was in progress, and filled my mind. I had 
 fierce thoughts against the Liberals. 
 
38 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 It was the success of the Liberal cause which 
 fretted me inwardly. I became fierce against 
 its instruments and its manifestations. A French 
 vessel was at Algiers ; I would not even look 
 at the tricolour. On my return, though forced 
 to stop a day at Paris, I kept indoors the whole 
 time, and all that 1 saw of that beautiful city, 
 was what I saw from the diligence. The Bishop 
 of London had already sounded me as to my 
 filling one of the Whitehall preacherships, which 
 he had just then put on a new footing; but I 
 was indignant at the line which he was taking, 
 and from my steamer I had sent home a letter 
 declining the appointment, by anticipation, should 
 it be offered to me. At this time I was specially 
 annoyed with Dr Arnold, though it did not last 
 into later years. Some one, I think, asked in 
 conversation, at Rome, whether a certain inter- 
 pretation of Scripture was Christian? it was 
 answered that Dr Arnold took it; I interposed 
 'But is he a Christian'? The subject went out 
 of my head at once; when afterwards I was 
 taxed with it I could say no more in explanation 
 than, that I thought I must have been allud- 
 ing to some free views of Dr Arnold about 
 the Old Testament — I thought I must have 
 meant e But who is to answer for Arnold ' ? 
 It was at Rome too that we began the Lyra 
 Apostolica, which appeared monthly in The 
 British Magazine. The motto shows the feeling 
 of both Froude and myself at the time: we 
 borrowed from M. Bunsen a Homer, and Froude 
 chose the words in which Achilles, on returning 
 to the battle, says, 'You shall know the differ- 
 ence, now that I am back again/ 
 
 Especially when I was left by myself, the 
 
TO THE YEAR 1833 39 
 
 thought came upon me that deliverance is 
 wrought, not by the many but by the few, 
 not by bodies but by persons. Now it was, I 
 think, that I repeated to myself the words, 
 which had ever been dear to me from my 
 school days, 'Exoriare aliquis' ! — now too, that 
 Southey's beautiful poem of Thalaba, for which 
 I had an immense liking, came forcibly to my 
 mind. I began to think that I had a mission. 
 There are sentences of my letters to my friends 
 to this effect, if they are not destroyed. When 
 we took leave of Monsignore Wiseman, he had 
 courteously expressed a wish that we might 
 make a second visit to Rome ; I said with great 
 gravity 'We have a work to do in England'. 
 I went down at once to Sicily, and the presenti- 
 ment grew stronger. I struck into the middle 
 of the island, and fell ill of a fever at Leonforte. 
 My servant throught that I was dying, and 
 begged for my last directions. I gave them, as 
 he wished ; but I said, c I shall not die'. I 
 repeated * I shall not die, for I have not sinned 
 against light, I have not sinned against light*. 
 I never have been able to make out at all 
 what I meant. 
 
 I got to Castro- Giovanni, and was laid up 
 there for nearly three weeks. Towards the end 
 of May I set off for Palermo, taking three days 
 for the journey. Before starting from my inn, 
 in the morning of May 26th or 27th, I sat down 
 on my bed, and began to sob bitterly. My 
 servant, who had acted as my nurse, asked what 
 ailed me. I could only answer e I have a work 
 to do in England.' 
 
 I was aching to get home ; yet for want of 
 a vessel I was kept at Palermo for three weeks. 
 
40 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 I began to visit the Churches, and they calmed 
 my impatience, though I did not attend any 
 services. I knew nothing of the Presence of 
 the Blessed Sacrament there. At last I got off 
 in an orange boat, bound for Marseilles. We 
 were becalmed a whole week in the Straits of 
 Bonifacio. Then it was that I wrote the lines 
 'Lead, kindly light', which have since become 
 well known. I was writing verses the whole 
 time of my passage. At length I got to Mar- 
 seilles, and set off for England. The fatigue of 
 travelling was too much for me, and I was laid 
 up for several days at Lyons. At last I got off 
 again, and did not stop night or day till I 
 reached England, and my mother's house. My 
 brother had arrived from Persia only a few hours 
 before. This was on the Tuesday. The follow- 
 ing Sunday, July 14th, Mr Keble preached the 
 Assize Sermon in the University Pulpit. It was 
 published under the title of National Apostasy. 
 I have ever considered, and kept the day, as 
 the start of the religious movement of 1833. 
 
HISTORY OF MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 1833 to 1839 
 
 In spite of the foregoing pages, I have no ro- 
 mantic story to tell ; but I wrote them, because 
 it is my duty to tell things as they took place. 
 I have not exaggerated the feelings with which 
 I returned to England, and I have no desire 
 to dress up the events which followed, so as to 
 make them in keeping with the narrative which 
 has gone before. I soon relapsed into the every- 
 day life which I had hitherto led ; in all things 
 the same, except that a new object was given 
 me. I had employed myself in my own rooms 
 in reading and writing, and in the care of a 
 Church, before I left England, and I returned 
 to the same occupations when I was back again. 
 And yet, perhaps, those first vehement feelings 
 which carried me on were necessary for the 
 beginning of the Movement; and afterwards, 
 when it was once begun, the special need of 
 me was over. 
 
 When I got home from abroad, I found that 
 already a movement had commenced in opposi- 
 tion to the specific danger which at that time 
 was threatening the religion of the nation and 
 its Church. Several zealous and able men had 
 united their counsels, and were in correspondence 
 with each other. The principal of these were 
 
42 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Mr Keble, Hurrell Froude, who had reached 
 home long before me, Mr William Palmer of 
 Dublin, and Worcester College (not Mr W. 
 Palmer of Magdalen, who is now a Catholic), 
 Mr Arthur Perceval, and Mr Hugh Rose. 
 
 To mention Mr Hugh Rose's name is to kindle 
 in the minds of those who knew him a host of 
 pleasant and affectionate remembrances. He was 
 the man above all others fitted by his cast of 
 mind and literary powers to make a stand, if a 
 stand could be made, against the calamity of 
 the times. He was gifted with a high and large 
 mind, and a true sensibility of what was great 
 and beautiful ; he wrote with warmth and energy ; 
 and he had a cool head and cautious judgment. 
 He spent his strength, and shortened his life, 
 ' Pro Ecclesia Dei ', as he understood that sovereign 
 idea. Some years earlier, he had been the first 
 to give warning, I think from the University 
 Pulpit at Cambridge, of the perils to England 
 which lay in the biblical and theological specula- 
 tions of Germany. The Reform agitation followed, 
 and the Whig Government came into power ; and 
 he anticipated in their distribution of Church 
 patronage the authoritative introduction of liberal 
 opinions into the country — by ( liberal' I mean 
 liberalism in religion, for questions of politics, 
 as such, do not come into this narrative at all. He 
 feared, that by the Whig party a door would be 
 opened in England to the most grievous of heresies, 
 which never could be closed again. In order, under 
 such grave circumstances, to unite Churchmen 
 together, and to make a front against the coming 
 danger, he had, in 1 832, commenced The British 
 Magazine, and in the same year he came to Oxford 
 in the summer term, in order to beat up for writers 
 
1833 to 1839 43 
 
 for his publication; on that occasion I became 
 known to him through Mr Palmer. His reputa- 
 tion and position came in aid of his obvious fitness, 
 in point of character and intellect, to become the 
 centre of an ecclesiastical movement, if such a 
 movement were to depend on the action of a 
 party. His delicate health, his premature death, 
 would have frustrated the expectation, even 
 though the new school of opinion had been 
 more exactly thrown into the shape of a party 
 than in fact was the case. But he zealously 
 backed up the first efforts of those who were 
 principals in it; and, when he went abroad to 
 die, in 1838, he allowed me the solace of express- 
 ing my feelings of attachment and gratitude to 
 him, by addressing him, in the dedication of a 
 volume of my Sermons, as the man, 'who, when 
 hearts were failing, bade us stir up the gift 
 that was in us, and betake ourselves to our 
 true Mother/ 
 
 But there were other reasons, besides Mr Rose's 
 state of health, which hindered those who so 
 much admired him from availing themselves of 
 his close co-operation in the coming fight. United 
 as both he and they were in the general scope 
 of the Movement, they were in discordance with 
 each other from the first in their estimate of the 
 means to be adopted for attaining it. Mr Rose 
 had a position in the Church, a name, and serious 
 responsibilities ; he had direct ecclesiastical super- 
 iors ; he had intimate relations with his own 
 University, and a large clerical connexion through 
 the country. Froude and I were nobodies ; with 
 no characters to lose, and no antecedents to fetter 
 us. Rose could not go a-head across country, as 
 Froude had no scruples in doing. Froude was 
 
44 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 a bold rider, as on horseback, so also in his 
 speculations. After a long conversation with 
 him on the logical bearing of his principles, 
 Mr Rose said of him with quiet humour, that 
 'he did not seem to be afraid of inferences*. 
 It was simply the truth ; Froude had that strong 
 hold of first principles, and that keen perception 
 of their value, that he was comparatively indifferent 
 to the revolutionary action which would attend 
 on their application to a given state of things ; 
 whereas, in the thoughts of Rose, as a practical 
 man, existing facts had the precedence of every 
 other idea, and the chief test of the soundness 
 of a line of policy lay in the consideration whether 
 it would work. This was one of the first questions, 
 which, as it seemed to me, ever occured to his 
 mind. With Froude, Erastianism — that is, the 
 union (so he viewed it) of Church and State — 
 was the parent, or if not the parent, the service- 
 able and sufficient tool, of Liberalism. Till that 
 union was snapped, Christian doctrine never 
 could be safe; and, while he well knew how 
 high and unselfish was the temper of Mr Rose, 
 yet he used to apply to him an epithet, reproach- 
 ful in his own mouth — Rose was a ' conservative*. 
 By bad luck, I brought out this word to Mr Rose 
 in a letter of my own, which I wrote to him in 
 criticism of something he had inserted into the 
 Magazine. I got a vehement rebuke for my pains, 
 for though Rose persued a conservative line, he 
 had as high a disdain, as Froude could have, of 
 a worldly ambition, and an extreme sensitiveness 
 of such an imputation. 
 
 But there was another reason still, and a more 
 elementary one, which severed Mr Rose from 
 the Oxford Movement. Living movements do 
 
1833 to 1839 45 
 
 not come of committees, nor are great ideas 
 worked out through the post, even though it 
 had been the penny post. This principle deeply 
 penetrated both Froude and myself from the first, 
 and recommended to us the course which things 
 soon took spontaneously, and without set purpose 
 of our own. Universities are the natural centres 
 of intellectual movements. How could men act 
 together, whatever was their zeal, unless they 
 were united in a sort of individuality? Now, 
 first, we had no unity of place. Mr Rose was 
 in Suffolk, Mr Perceval in Surrey, Mr Keble in 
 Gloucestershire ; Hurrell Froude had to go for 
 his health to Barbados. Mr Palmer, indeed, was 
 in Oxford ; this was an important advantage, and 
 told well in the first months of the Movement 
 — but another condition, besides that of place, 
 was required. 
 
 A far more essential unity was that of ante- 
 cedents — a common history, common memories, 
 an intercourse of mind with mind in the past, 
 and a progress and increase of that intercourse 
 in the present. Mr Perceval, to be sure, was 
 a pupil of Mr Keble's; but Keble, Rose, and 
 Palmer, represented distinct parties, or at least 
 tempers, in the Establishment. Mr Palmer had 
 many conditions of authority and influence. He 
 was the only really learned man among us. He 
 understood theology as a science; he was practised 
 in the scholastic mode of controversial writing; 
 and, I believe, was as well acquainted, as he was 
 dissatisfied, with the Catholic schools. He was as 
 decided is his religious views, as he was cautious 
 and even subtle in their expression, and gentle 
 in their enforcement. But he was deficient in 
 depth ; and besides, coming from a distance, he 
 
46 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 never had really grown into an Oxford man, 
 nor was he generally received as such ; nor 
 had he any insight into the force of personal 
 influence and congeniality of thought in carrying 
 out a religious theory — a condition which Froude 
 and I considered essential to any true success 
 in the stand which had to be made against 
 Liberalism. Mr Palmer had a certain connexion, 
 as it may be called, in the Establishment, 
 consisting of high Church dignitaries, archdea- 
 cons, London rectors, and the like, who 
 belonged to what was commonly called the 
 high-and-dry school. They were far more op- 
 posed than even he was to the irresponsible 
 action of individuals. Of course their beau ideal 
 in ecclesiastical action was a board of safe, 
 sound, sensible men. Mr Palmer was their 
 organ and representative ; and he wished for a 
 Committee, an Association, with rules and meet- 
 ings, to protect the interests of the Church in 
 its existing peril. He was in some measure 
 supported by Mr Perceval 
 
 I, on the other hand, had out of my own 
 head begun the Tracts ; and these, as represent- 
 ing the antagonist principle of personality, were 
 looked upon by Mr Palmer's friends with con- 
 siderable alarm. The great point at the time, 
 with these good men in London — some of them 
 men of the highest principle, and far from in- 
 fluenced by what we used to call Erastianism — 
 was to put down the Tracts. I, as their editor, 
 and mainly their author, was not unnaturally 
 willing to give way. Keble and Froude advocated 
 their continuance strongly, and were angry with 
 me for consenting to stop them. Mr Palmer 
 shared the anxiety of his own friends; and, 
 
1833 to 1839 47 
 
 kind as were his thoughts of us, he still not 
 unnaturally felt, for reasons of his own, some 
 fidget and nervousness at the course which his 
 Oriel friends were taking. Froude, for whom 
 he had a real liking, took a high tone in his 
 project of measures for dealing with bishops 
 and clergy, which must have shocked and scan- 
 dalized him considerably. As for me, there 
 was matter enough in the early Tracts to give 
 him equal disgust ; and doubtless I much tasked 
 his generosity, when he had to defend me, 
 whether against the London dignitaries, or the 
 country clergy. Oriel, from the time of Dr 
 Copleston to Dr. Hampden, had had a name 
 far and wide for liberality of thought; it had 
 received a formal recognition from The Edin- 
 burgh Review, if my memory serves me truly, 
 as the school of speculative philosophy in Eng- 
 land; and on one occasion, in 1833, when I 
 presented myself, with some of the first papers 
 of the Movement, to a country clergyman in 
 Northamptonshire, he paused awhile, and then, 
 eyeing me with significance, asked ( Whether 
 Whately was at the bottom of them*. 
 
 Mr Perceval wrote to me in support of the 
 judgment of Mr Palmer and the dignitaries. 
 I replied in a letter which he afterwards 
 published. c As to the Tracts 1 , I said to him 
 (I quote my own words from his pamphlet), 
 ' every one has his own taste. You object to 
 some things, another to others. If we altered 
 to please every one, the effect would be 
 spoiled. They were not intended as symbols 
 ex cathedra, but as the expression of individual 
 minds ; and individuals, feeling strongly, while 
 on the one hand, they are incidentally faulty 
 
48 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 in mode or language, are still peculiarly effect- 
 ive. No great work was done by a system ; 
 whereas systems rise out of individual exertions. 
 Luther was an individual. The very faults of 
 an individual excite attention ; he loses, but his 
 cause (if good, and he powerful-minded) gains. 
 This is the way of things ; we promote truth 
 by a self-sacrifice.' 
 
 The visit which I made to the Northampton- 
 shire rector was only one of a series of similar 
 expedients, which I adopted during the year 
 1833. I called upon clergy in various parts of 
 the country, whether I was acquainted with 
 them or not, and I attended at the houses of 
 friends where several of them were from time 
 to time assembled. I do not think that much 
 came of such attempts, nor were they quite in 
 my way. Also I wrote various letters to clergy- 
 men, which fared not much better, except that 
 they advertised the fact, that a rally in favour 
 of the Church was commencing. I did not care 
 whether my visits were made to high Church 
 or low Church ; I wished to make a strong pull 
 in union with all who were opposed to the 
 principles of liberalism, whoever they might be. 
 Giving my name to the editor, I commenced 
 a series of letters in the Record newspaper: 
 they ran to a considerable length ; and were 
 borne by him with great courtesy and patience. 
 They were headed as being on ? Church Reform \ 
 The first was on the Revival of Church Discipline ; 
 the second, on its Scripture proof; the third, 
 on the application of the doctrine ; the fourth, 
 was an answer to objections; the fifth, was on 
 the benefits of discipline. And then the series 
 was abruptly brought to a termination. I had 
 
1833 to 1839 49 
 
 said what I really felt, and what was also in 
 keeping with the strong teaching of the Tracts, 
 but I suppose the Editor discovered in me some 
 divergence from his own line of thought; for 
 at length he sent a very civil letter, apologizing 
 for the non-appearance of my sixth communica- 
 tion, on the ground that it contained an attack 
 upon Temperance Societies, about which he did 
 not wish a controversy in his columns. He 
 added, however, his serious regret as to the char- 
 acter of the Tracts. I had subscribed a small 
 sum in 1828 towards the first start of the Record. 
 Acts of the officious character, which I have 
 been describing, were uncongenial to my natural 
 temper, to the genius of the Movement, and 
 to the historical mode of its success — they 
 were the fruit of that exuberant and joyous 
 energy with which I had returned from abroad, 
 and which I never had before or since. I had 
 the exultation of health restored, and home 
 regained. While I was at Palermo and thought of 
 the breadth of the Mediterranean, and the weari- 
 some journey across France, I could not imagine 
 how I was ever to get to England; but now I 
 was amid familiar scenes and faces once more. 
 And my health and strength came back to me 
 with such a rebound, that some friends at Oxford, 
 on seeing me, did not well know that it was I, 
 and hesitated before they spoke to me. And I 
 had the consciousness that I was employed in 
 that work which I had been dreaming about, 
 and which I felt to be so momentous and inspir- 
 ing. I had a supreme confidence in our cause ; 
 we were upholding that primitive Christianity 
 which was delivered for all time by the early 
 teachers of the Church, and which was registered 
 
50 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 and attested in the Anglican formularies and 
 by the Anglican divines. That ancient religion 
 had well nigh faded away out of the land, 
 through the political changes of the last 150 
 years, and it must be restored. It would be in 
 fact a second Reformation — a better reformation, 
 for it would be a return not to the sixteenth 
 century, but to the seventeenth. No time was 
 to be lost, for the Whigs had come to do their 
 worst, and the rescue might come too late. 
 Bishoprics were already in course of suppres- 
 sion; Church property was in course of confis- 
 cation ; Sees would soon be receiving unsuitable 
 occupants. We knew enough to begin preaching 
 upon, and there was no one else to preach. I 
 felt as on a vessel, which first gets under weigh, 
 and then clears out the deck, and stores 
 away luggage and live-stock into their proper 
 receptacles. 
 
 Nor was it only, that I had confidence in our 
 cause, both in itself, and in its controversial force, 
 but besides, I despised every rival system of 
 doctrine and its arguments. As to the High 
 Church and the Low Church, I thought that the 
 one had not much more of a logical basis than 
 the other; while I had a thorough contempt 
 for the evangelical. I had a real respect for the 
 character of many of the advocates of each party, 
 l^ut that did not give cogency to their arguments ; 
 and I thought, on the other hand, that the Apos- 
 tolical form of doctrine was essential and imper- 
 ative, and its grounds of evidence impregnable. 
 Owing to this confidence, it came to pass at 
 that time, that there was a double aspect in 
 my bearing towards others, which it is necessary 
 for me to enlarge upon. My behaviour had a 
 
1833 to 1839 51 
 
 mixture in it both of fierceness and of sport; 
 and on this account, I dare say, it gave offence 
 to many; nor am I here defending it 
 
 I wished men to agree with me, and I walked 
 with them step by step, as far as they would 
 go ; this I did sincerely ; but if they would stop 
 I did not much care about it, but walked on 
 with some satisfaction that I had brought them 
 so far. I liked to make them* preach the truth 
 without knowing it, and encouraged them to do so. 
 It was a satisfaction to me that the Record had 
 allowed me to say so much in its columns with- 
 out remonstrance. I was amused to hear of one 
 of the Bishops, who, on reading an early Tract on 
 the Apostolical Succession, could not make up his 
 mind whether he held the doctrine or not. I was 
 not distressed at the wonder or anger of dull and 
 self-conceited men at propositions which they 
 did not understand. When a correspondent, in 
 good faith, wrote to a newspaper to say, that 
 the ' Sacrifice of the Holy Eucharist* spoken of 
 in the Tract, was a false print for e Sacrament ', I 
 thought the mistake too pleasant to be corrected 
 before I was asked about it. I was not un- 
 willing to draw an opponent on, step by step, 
 to the brink of some intellectual absurdity, and 
 to leave him to get back aj he could. I was 
 not unwilling to play with .a man who asked 
 me impertinent questions. I think I had in 
 my mouth the words of the Wise Man e Answer 
 a fool according to his folly ', especially if he was 
 prying or spiteful. 1 was reckless of the gossip 
 which was circulated about me ; and, when I 
 might easily have set it right, did not deign to 
 do so. Also I used irony in conversation, when 
 matter-of-fact men would not see what I meant. 
 
•5% MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 This kind of behaviour was a sort of habit 
 with me. If I have ever trifled with my sub- 
 ject, it was a more serious fault. I never used 
 arguments which I saw clearly to be unsound. 
 The nearest approach which I remember to 
 such conduct, but which I consider was clear 
 of it nevertheless, was in the case of Tract IS. 
 The matter of this Tract was supplied to me 
 by a friend, to whom I had applied for assist- 
 ance, but who did not wish to be mixed up 
 with the publication. He gave it me, that I 
 might throw it into shape, and I took his argu- 
 ments as they stood. In the chief portion of 
 the Tract I fully agreed; for instance, as to 
 what it says about the Council of Trent; but 
 there were arguments, or some argument, in it 
 which I did not follow; I do not recollect what 
 it was. Froude, I think, was disgusted with 
 the whole Tract, and accused me of economy in 
 publishing it. It is principally through Mr 
 Froude' s Remains that this word has got into 
 our language. I think, I defended myself with 
 arguments such as these : that, as every one 
 knew, the Tracts were written by various per- 
 sons who agreed together in their doctrine, but 
 not always in the arguments by which it was 
 to be proved ; that we must be tolerant of 
 difference of opinion among ourselves ; that the 
 author of the Tract had a right to his own 
 opinion, and that the argument in question was 
 ordinarily received ; that I did not give my own 
 name or authority, nor was asked for my personal 
 belief, but only acted instrumentally, as one 
 might translate a friend's book into a foreign 
 language. I account these to be good argu- 
 ments ; nevertheless, I feel also that such prac- 
 
1833 to 1839 53 
 
 tices admit of easy abuse, and are consequently 
 dangerous; but then again, I feel also this — 
 that if all such mistakes were to be severely 
 visited, not many men in public life would be 
 left with a character for honour and honesty. 
 This absolute confidence in my cause, which 
 led me to the imprudence or wantonness which 
 I have been instancing, also laid me open, not 
 unfairly, to the opposite charge of fierceness in 
 certain steps which I took, or words which I 
 published. In the Lyra Apostolica I have said 
 that, before learning to love, we must c learn 
 to hate ' ; though I had explained my words 
 by adding ' hatred of sin'. In one of my first 
 sermons I said, c l do not shrink from uttering 
 my firm conviction that it would be a gain to 
 the country were it vastly more superstitious, 
 more bigoted, more gloomy, more fierce in its 
 religion than at present it shows itself to be/ 
 I added, of course, that it would be an absurdity 
 to suppose such tempers of mind desirable in 
 themselves. The corrector of the press bore 
 these strong epithets till he got to * more fierce ', 
 and then he put in the margin a query. In the 
 very first page of the first Tract, I said of the 
 Bishops, that e black event though it would be 
 for the country, yet we could not wish them a 
 more blessed termination of their course, than 
 the spoiling of their goods and martyrdom.' In 
 consequence of a passage in my work upon the 
 Arian History, a Northern dignitary wrote to 
 accuse me of wishing to re-establish the blood 
 and torture of the Inquisition. Contrasting heretics 
 and heresiarchs, I had said, 'The latter should 
 meet with no mercy: he assumes the office of 
 the Tempter, and, so far forth as his error goes, 
 
54 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 must be dealt with by the competent authority, 
 as if he were embodied evil. To spare him is 
 a false and dangerous pity. It is to endanger 
 the souls of thousands, and it is uncharitable 
 towards himself/ I cannot deny that this is a 
 very fierce passage ; but Arius was banished, not 
 burned ; and it is only fair to myself to say that 
 neither at this, nor any other time in my life, 
 not even when I was fiercest, could I have even 
 cut off a Puritan's ears, and I think the sight 
 of a Spanish auto-da-fe would have been the 
 death of me. Again, when one of my friends, 
 of liberal and evangelical opinions, wrote to 
 expostulate with me on the course I was taking, 
 I said that we would ride over him and his as 
 Othniel prevailed over Chushan-rishathaim, king 
 of Mesopotamia. Again, I would have no dealings 
 with my brother, and I put my conduct upon a 
 syllogism. I said, e St Paul bids us avoid those 
 who cause divisions ; you cause divisions : there- 
 fore I must avoid you.' I dissuaded a lady from 
 attending the marriage of a sister who had 
 seceded from the Anglican Church. No wonder 
 that Blanco White, who had known me under 
 such different circumstances, now, hearing the 
 general course that I was taking, was amazed 
 at the change which he recognized in me. He 
 speaks bitterly and unfairly of me in his letters, 
 contemporaneously with the first years of the 
 Movement; but in 1839, when looking back, 
 he uses terms of me, which it would be hardly 
 modest in me to quote, were it not that what 
 he says of me in praise is but part of a whole 
 account of me. He says: 'In this party [the 
 anti-Peel, in 1829] I found, to my great surprise, 
 my dear friend, Mr Newman of Oriel, As he 
 
1833 to 1839 55 
 
 had been one of the annual petitioners to Par- 
 liament for Catholic Emancipation, his sudden 
 union with the most violent bigots was inex- 
 plicable to me. That change was the first 
 manifestation of the mental revolution, which 
 has suddenly made him one of the leading 
 persecutors of Dr Hampden, and the most 
 active and influential member of that association, 
 called the Puseyite party, from which we have 
 those very strange productions, entitled Tracts 
 Jor the limes. While stating these public facts, 
 my heart feels a pang at the recollection of 
 the affectionate and mutual friendship between 
 that excellent man and myself; a friendship, 
 which his principles of orthodoxy could not 
 allow him to continue in regard to one whom 
 he now regards as inevitably doomed to eternal 
 perdition. Such is the venomous character of 
 orthodoxy. What mischief must it create in a 
 bad heart and narrow mind, when it can work 
 so effectually for evil, in one of the most be- 
 nevolent of bosoms, and one of the ablest of 
 minds, in the amiable, the intellectual, the re- 
 fined * John Henry Newman!' (vol. iii. p. 131). 
 He adds, that I would have nothing to do with 
 him, a circumstance which I do not recollect, 
 and very much doubt. 
 
 I have spoken of my firm confidence in my 
 position; and now let me state more definitely 
 what the position was which I took up, and 
 the propositions about which I was so confident. 
 These were three : 
 
 1. First was the principle of dogma: my battle 
 was with liberalism; by liberalism I meant the 
 antidogmatic principle and its developments, 
 
56 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 This was the first point on which I was certain. 
 Here I make a remark : persistence in a given 
 belief is no sufficient test of its truth; but 
 departure from it is at least a slur upon the 
 man who has felt so certain about it. In pro- 
 portion, then, as I had in 1832 a strong per- 
 suasion in beliefs which I have since given up, 
 so far a sort of guilt attaches to me, not only 
 for that vain confidence, but for my multiform 
 conduct in consequence of it. But here I have 
 the satisfaction of feeling that I have nothing 
 to retract, and nothing to repent of. The main 
 principle of the Movement is as dear to me 
 now as it ever was. I have changed in many 
 things ; in this I have not. From the age of 
 fifteen, dogma has been the fundamental prin- 
 ciple of my religion : I know no other religion ; I 
 cannot enter into the idea of any other sort of relig- 
 ion, religion as a mere sentiment, is to me a dream 
 and a mockery. As well can there be filial love 
 without the fact of a father, as devotion without 
 the fact of a Supreme Being. What I held in 
 1816, I held in 1833, and I hold in 1864. 
 Please God, I shall hold it to the end. Even 
 when I was under Dr Whately's influence, I 
 had no temptation to be less zealous for the 
 great dogmas of the faith, and at various times 
 I used to resist such trains of thought on his part, 
 as seemed to me (rightly or wrongly) to obscure 
 them. Such was the fundamental principle of 
 the Movement of 1833. 
 
 2. Secondly, I was confident in the truth of 
 certain definite religious teaching, based upon 
 this foundation of dogma; viz. that there was 
 a visible Church with sacraments and rites which 
 are the channels of invisible grace, I thought 
 
1833 to 1839. 57 
 
 that this was the doctrine of Scripture, of the 
 early Church, and of the Anglican Church. Here 
 again, I have not changed in opinion ; I am as 
 certain now on this point as I was in 1833, 
 and have never ceased to be certain. In 1834, 
 and the following years I put this ecclesiastical 
 doctrine on a broader basis, after reading Laud, 
 Bramhall, and Stillingfleet, and other Anglican 
 divines, on the one hand, and after prosecuting 
 the study of the Fathers on the other ; but the 
 doctrine of 1833 was strengthened in me, not 
 changed. When I began the Tracts for the 
 Times I rested the main doctrine, of which I 
 am speaking, upon Scripture, on St Ignatius's 
 Epistles and on the Anglican Prayer Book. As 
 to the existence of a visible Church, I especially 
 argued out the . point from Scripture, in Tract 11, 
 viz. from the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles. 
 As to the Sacraments and sacramental rites, I 
 stood on the Prayer Book. I appealed to the 
 Ordination Service in which the Bishop says, c Re- 
 ceive the Holy Ghost'; to the Visitation Service, 
 which teaches confession and absolution ; to the 
 Baptismal Service, in which the Priest speaks 
 of the child after baptism as regenerate ; to the 
 Catechism, in which Sacramental Communion is 
 receiving e verily the Body and Blood of Christ ' ; 
 to the Commination Service, in which we are told 
 to do ' works of penance ' ; to the Collects, Epistles, 
 and Gospels, to the calendar and rubrics, wherein 
 we find the festivals of the Apostles, notice of 
 certain other Saints, and days of fasting and 
 abstinence. 
 
 And, further, as to the episcopal system, I 
 founded it upon the Epistles of St. Ignatius, 
 which inculcated it in various ways. One passage 
 
58 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 especially impressed itself upon me: speaking 
 of cases of disobedience to ecclesiastical author- 
 ity, he says, ( A man does not deceive that Bishop 
 whom he sees, but he practises rather with the 
 Bishop Invisible, and so the question is not 
 with flesh, but with God, who knows the secret 
 heart.' I wished to act on this principle to the 
 letter, and I may say with confidence that I 
 never consciously transgressed it. I loved to 
 act in the sight of my Bishop as if I was, as 
 it were, in the sight of God. It was one of my 
 special safeguards against myself and of my 
 supports ; I could not go very wrong while I had 
 reason to believe that I was in no respect dis- 
 pleasing him. It was not a mere formal obed- 
 ience to rule that I put before me, but I 
 desired to please him personally, as I considered 
 him set over me by the Divine Hand. I was 
 strict in observing my clerical engagements, not 
 only because they were engagements, but because 
 I considered myself simply as the servant and 
 instrument of my Bishop. I did not care much 
 for the Bench of Bishops, except as they might 
 be the voice of my Church: nor should I have 
 cared much for a Provincial Council ; nor for a 
 Diocesan Synod presided over by my Bishop; 
 all these matters seemed to me to be jure 
 ecclesiastico, but what to me was jure divino 
 was the voice of my Bishop in his own person. 
 My own Bishop was my Pope; I knew no 
 other ; the successor of the Apostles, the Vicar 
 of Christ. This was but a practical exhibition 
 of the Anglican theory of Church Government 
 as I had already drawn it out myself. This 
 continued all through my course. When at 
 length, in 1845, I wrote to Bishop Wiseman, in 
 
1833 to 1839 59 
 
 whose Vicariate I found myself, to announce 
 my conversion, I could find nothing better to 
 say to him than that I would obey the Pope 
 as I had obeyed my own Bishop in the Anglican 
 Church. My duty to him was my point of 
 honour; his disapprobation was the one thing 
 which I could not bear. I believe it to have 
 been a generous and honest feeling; and, in 
 consequence, I was rewarded by having all my 
 time, for ecclesiastical superior, a man, whom 
 had I had a choice, I should have preferred, 
 out and out, to any other Bishop on the Bench, 
 and for whose memory I have a special affection, 
 Dr Bagot — a man of noble mind, and as kind- 
 hearted and as considerate as he was noble. 
 He ever sympathized with me in my trials 
 which followed; it was my own fault, that I 
 was not brought into more familiar personal 
 relations with him than it was my happiness 
 to be. May his name be ever blessed ! 
 
 And now, in concluding my remarks on the 
 second point on which my confidence rested, 
 I observe that here again 1 have no retractation 
 to announce as to its main outline. While I 
 am now as clear in my acceptance of the prin- 
 ciple of dogma as I was in 1833 and 1816, so 
 again I am now as firm in my belief of a visible 
 Church, of the authority of Bishops, of the 
 grace of the sacraments, of the religious worth 
 of works of penance, as I was in 1833. I have 
 added Articles to my Creed ; but the old ones, 
 which I then held with a divine faith, remain. 
 
 3. But now, as to the third point on which 
 I stood in 1833, and which I have utterly 
 renounced and trampled upon since — my then 
 view of the Church of Rome ; I will speak 
 
60 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 about it as exactly as I can. When I was young, 
 as I have said already, and after I was grown 
 up, I thought the Pope to be Antichrist. At 
 Christmas 1824-5 I preached a Sermon to that 
 effect: In 1827 I accepted eagerly the stanza 
 in the Christian Year, which many people 
 thought too charitable, ' Speak gently of thy 
 sister's fair. From the time that I knew 
 Froude I got less and less bitter on the sub- 
 ject. I spoke (successively, but I cannot tell 
 in what order, or at what dates) of the Roman 
 Church as being bound up with 'the cause of 
 Antichrist ', as being one of the e many antichrists ' 
 foretold by St John, as being influenced by 
 'the spirit of Antichrist', and as having some- 
 thing ' very Antichristian ', or e unchristian ', about 
 her. From my boyhood, and in 1 824, 1 considered, 
 after Protestant authorities, that St Gregory I, 
 about a.d. 600, was the first Pope that was Anti- 
 christ, and again that he was also a great and 
 holy man; in 1832-3 I thought the Church of 
 Rome was bound up with the cause of Anti- 
 christ by the Council of Trent. When it was, 
 that in my deliberate judgment I gave up the 
 notion altogether in any shape, that some special 
 reproach was attached to her name, I cannot 
 tell ; but I had a shrinking from renouncing it, 
 even when my reason so ordered me, from a 
 sort of conscience or prejudice, I think up to 
 1843. Moreover, at least during the Tract 
 Movement, I thought the essence of her 
 offence to consist in the honours which she 
 paid to the Blessed Virgin and the Saints; 
 and the more I grew in devotion, both to the 
 Saints and to Our Lady, the more impatient 
 was I at the Roman practices, as if those 
 
1833 to 1839 61 
 
 glorified creations of God must be gravely 
 shocked, if pain could be theirs, at the undue 
 veneration of which they were the objects. 
 
 On the other hand, Hurrell Froude in his 
 familiar conversation was always tending to rub 
 the idea out of my mind. In a passage of one 
 of his letters from abroad, alluding, I suppose, 
 to what I used to say in opposition to him, 
 he observes: 'I think people are injudicious 
 who talk against the Roman Catholics for wor- 
 shipping Saints, and honouring the Virgin and 
 images, etc. These things may perhaps be 
 idolatrous; I cannot make up my mind about 
 it; but to my mind it is the Carnival that is 
 real, practical idolatry, as it is written, "the 
 people sat down to eat, and drink, and rose up 
 to play"/ The Carnival, I observe in passing, 
 is, in fact, one of those very excesses, to which, 
 for at least three centuries, religious Catholics 
 have ever opposed themselves, as we see in the 
 life of St Philip, to say nothing of the present 
 day; but this he did not know. Moreover, 
 from Froude I learned to admire the great 
 medieval Pontiffs ; and, of course, when I had 
 come to consider the Council of Trent to be 
 the turning-point of the history of Christian 
 Rome, I found myself as free, as I was rejoiced, 
 to speak in their praise. Then, when I was 
 abroad, the sight of so many great places, 
 venerable shrines, and noble churches, much 
 impressed my imagination. And my heart was 
 touched also. Making an expedition on foot 
 across some wild country in Sicily, at six in 
 the morning I came upon a small church ; I 
 heard voices, and I looked in. It was crowded, 
 and the congregation was singing. Of course 
 
62 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 it was the Mass, though I did not know it at 
 the time. And, in my weary days at Palermo, 
 I was not ungrateful for the comfort which 
 I had received in frequenting the Churches, 
 nor did I ever forget it. Then, again, her zealous 
 maintenance of the doctrine and the rule of 
 celibacy, which I recognized as Apostolic, and 
 her faithful agreement with Antiquity in so 
 many points, besides, which were dear to me, 
 was an argument as well as a plea in favour of 
 the great Church of Rome. Thus I learned to 
 have tender feelings towards her; but still my 
 reason was not affected at all. My judgment 
 was against her, when viewed as an institution, 
 as truly as it ever had been. 
 
 This conflict between reason and affection I 
 expressed in one of the early Tracts, published 
 July, 1834. ' Considering the high gifts, and the 
 strong claims of the Church of Rome and its 
 dependencies on our admiration, reverence, love, 
 and gratitude ; how could we withstand it, as 
 we do, how could we refrain from being melted 
 into tenderness, and rushing into communion with 
 it, but for the words of Truth itself, which bid 
 us prefer It to the whole world? "He that 
 loveth father or mother more than Me, is not 
 worthy of me." How could "we learn to be 
 severe, and execute judgment ", but for the 
 warning of Moses against even a divinely-gifted 
 teacher, who should preach new gods ; and the 
 anathema of St Paul even against Angels and 
 Apostles, who should bring in a new doctrine?' 
 — Records No. 24. My feeling was something 
 like that of a man, who is obliged in a court 
 of justice to bear witness against a friend; or 
 like my own now, when I have said, and shall 
 
1833 to 1839 63 
 
 say, so many things on which I had rather be 
 silent. 
 
 As a matter, then, of simple conscience, though 
 it went against my feelings, I felt it to be a duty 
 to protest against the Church of Rome. But, be- 
 sides this, it was a duty, because the prescription 
 of such a protest was a living principle of my 
 own Church, as expressed in not simply a catena, 
 but a consensus of her divines, and the voice 
 of her people. Moreover, such a protest was 
 necessary as an integral portion of her controver- 
 sial basis ; for I adopted the argument of Bernard 
 Gilpin, that Protestants 'were not able to give 
 any firm and solid reason of the separation be- 
 sides this, to wit, that the Pope is Antichrist*. 
 But while I thus thought such a protest to be 
 based upon truth, and to be a religious duty, 
 and a rule of Anglicanism, and a necessity of 
 the case, I did not at all like the work. Hurrell 
 Froude attacked me for doing it ; and, besides, 
 I felt that my language had a vulgar and 
 rhetorical look about it. I believed, and really 
 measured, my words, when I used them; but 
 I knew that I had a temptation, on the other 
 hand, to say against Rome as much as ever I 
 could, in order to protect myself against the 
 charge of Popery. 
 
 And now I come to the very point for which 
 I have introduced the subject of my feelings 
 about Rome. I felt such confidence in the substan- 
 tial justice of the charges which I advanced against 
 her, that I considered them to be a safeguard and 
 an assurance, that no harm could ever arise from 
 the freest exposition of what I used to call Angli- 
 can principles. All the world was astounded at 
 what Froude and I were saying ; men said that 
 
64 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 it was sheer Popery. I answered, 'True, we 
 seem to be making straight for it; but go on 
 awhile, and you will come to a deep chasm 
 across the path, which makes real approximation 
 impossible'. And I urged in addition, that 
 many Anglican divines had been accused of 
 Popery, yet had died in their Anglicanism — 
 now, the ecclesiastical principles which I pro- 
 fessed, they had professed also ; and the judg- 
 ment against Rome which they had formed, I 
 had formed also. Whatever faults, then, the 
 Anglican system might have, and however boldly 
 I might point them out, anyhow that system 
 was not vulnerable on the side of Rome, and 
 might be mended in spite of her. In that very 
 agreement of the two forms of faith, close as 
 it might seem, would really be found, on exa- 
 mination, the elements and principles of an 
 essential discordance. 
 
 It was with this 'supreme persuasion on my 
 mind, that I fancied that there could be no 
 rashness in giving to the world in fullest meas- 
 ure the teaching and the writings of the Fathers. 
 I thought that the Church of England was 
 substantially founded upon them. I did not 
 know all that the Fathers had said, but I felt 
 that, even when their tenets happened to differ 
 from the Anglican, no harm could come of 
 reporting them. I said out what I was clear 
 they had said ; I spoke vaguely and imperfectly 
 of what I thought they said, or what some 
 of them had said. Anyhow, no harm could 
 come of bending the crooked stick the other 
 way, in the process of straightening it; it was 
 impossible to break it. If there was any thing 
 in the Fathers of a startling character, it would 
 
1833 to 1839 65 
 
 be only for a time; it would admit of explana- 
 tion ; it could not lead to Rome. I express this 
 view of the matter in a passage of the preface 
 to the first volume,, which I edited, of the 
 Library of the Fathers. Speaking of the strange- 
 ness, at first sight, presented to the Anglican 
 mind, of some of their principles and opinions, I 
 bid the reader go forward hopefully, and not 
 indulge his criticism till he knows more about 
 them, than he will learn at the outset. ' Since 
 the evil', I say, 'is in the nature of the case 
 itself, we can do no more than have patience, 
 and recommend patience to others, and, with 
 the racer in the Tragedy, look forward steadily 
 and hopefully to the event, T 53 ritei k/o-tiv (pipwv, 
 when as we trust, all that is inharmonious and 
 anomalous in the details will at length be 
 practically smoothed.' 
 
 Such was the position, such the defences, 
 such the tactics, by which I thought that it 
 was both incumbent on us, and possible to us, 
 to meet that onset of Liberal principles of 
 which we were all in immediate anticipation, 
 whether in the Church or in the University. 
 And during the first year of the Tracts, the 
 attack upon the University began. In November 
 1834 was sent to me by the author, the second 
 edition of a pamphlet entitled Observations on 
 Religious Dissent, with particular reference to the 
 use of religious tests in the University. In this 
 Pamphlet it was maintained, that ' Religion is 
 distinct from Theological Opinion' (pp. 1, 28, 
 30, etc.) ; that it is but a common prejudice to 
 identify theological propositions, methodically 
 deduced and stated, with the simple religion 
 of Christ (p. 1 ) ; that under Theological Opinion 
 
 5 
 
66 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 were to be placed the Trinitarian doctrine (p. 
 27), and the Unitarian (p. 19) ; that a dogma 
 was a theological opinion insisted on (pp. 20, 
 21); that speculation always left an opening 
 for improvement (p. 22); that the Church of 
 England was not dogmatic in its spirit, though 
 the wording of its formularies may often carry 
 the sound of dogmatism (p. 23). 
 
 I acknowledged the receipt of this work in 
 the following letter : 
 
 The kindness which has led to your presenting me with 
 your late pamphlet encourages me to hope that you 
 will forgive me, if I take the opportunity it affords of 
 expressing to you my very sincere and deep regret that 
 it has been published. Such an opportunity I could not 
 let slip without being unfaithful to my own serious 
 thoughts on the subject. 
 
 While I respect the tone of piety which the pamphlet 
 displays, I dare not trust myself to put on paper my 
 feelings about the principles contained in it; tending, 
 as they do, in my opinion, altogether to make shipwreck 
 of Christian faith. I also lament, that, by its appearance, 
 the first step has been taken towards interrupting that 
 peace and mutual good understanding which has prevailed 
 so long in this place, and which, if once seriously dis- 
 turbed, will be succeeded by dissensions the more in- 
 tractable, because justified in the minds of those who 
 resist innovation by a feeling of imperative duty. 
 
 Since that time, Phaeton has got into the 
 chariot of the sun ; we, alas ! can only look on, 
 and watch him down the steep of heaven. Mean- 
 while, the lands, which he is passing over, suffer 
 from his driving. 
 
 Such was the commencement of the assault 
 of Liberalism upon the old orthodoxy of Oxford 
 and England ; and it could not have been broken, 
 as it was, for so long a time, had not a great 
 
1833 to 1839 67 
 
 change taken place in the circumstances of that 
 counter-movement which had already started with 
 the view of resisting it. For myself, I was not the 
 person to take the lead of a party ; I never was, 
 from first to last, more than a leading author of a 
 school ; nor did I ever wish to be any thing else. 
 This is my own account of the matter, and I say it, 
 neither as intending to disown the responsibility of 
 what was done, nor as if ungrateful to those who 
 at that time made more of me than I deserved, 
 and did more for my sake, and at my bidding, 
 than I realized myself. I am giving my history 
 from my own point of sight, and it is as follows : 
 I had lived for ten years among my personal 
 friends ; the greater part of the time, I had been 
 influenced, not influencing ; and at no time have 
 I acted on others, without their acting upon 
 me. As is the custom of a University, I had 
 lived with my private, nay, with some of my 
 public, pupils, and with the junior Fellows of 
 my College, without form or distance, on a 
 footing of equality. Thus it was through friends, 
 younger, for the most part, than myself, that 
 my principles were spreading. They heard what 
 I said in conversation, and told it to others. 
 Undergraduates in due time took their degree, 
 and became private tutors themselves. In this 
 new status, in turn, they preached the opinions 
 which they had already learned themselves. Others 
 went down to the country, and became curates 
 of parishes. Then they had down from London 
 parcels of the Tracts, and other publications. 
 They placed them in the shops of local book- 
 sellers, got them into newspapers, introduced 
 them to clerical meetings, and converted more 
 or less their Rectors and their brother curates. 
 
s 
 
 68 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Thus the Movement, viewed with relation to 
 myself, was but a floating opinion ; it was not 
 a power. It never would have been a power, if 
 it had remained in my hands. Years after, a 
 friend, writing to me in remonstrance at the 
 excesses, as he thought them, of my disciples, 
 applied to me my own verse about St Gregory 
 Nazianzen: c Thou couldst a people raise, but 
 couldst not rule.' At the time that he wrote 
 to me, I had special impediments in the way 
 of such an exercise of power ; but at no time 
 could I exercise over others that authority which 
 under the circumstances was imperatively required. 
 My great principle ever was, Live and let live. I 
 never had the staidness or dignity necessary for 
 a leader. To the last, I never recognized the 
 hold I had over young men. Of late years, I 
 have read and heard that they even imitated 
 me in various ways. I was quite unconscious of 
 it, and I think my immediate friends knew too 
 well how disgusted I should be at the news to 
 have the heart to tell me. I felt great impatience 
 at our being called a party, and would not allow 
 that we were. I had a lounging, free-and-easy 
 way of carrying things on. I exercised no suffic- 
 ient censorship upon the Tracts. I did not 
 confine them to the writings of such persons as 
 agreed in all things with myself; and, as to my 
 own Tracts, I printed on them a notice to the 
 effect, that any one who pleased might make what 
 use he would of them, and reprint them with 
 alterations, if he chose, under the conviction that 
 their main scope could not be damaged by such 
 a process. It was the same afterwards, as regards 
 other publications. For two years I furnished a 
 certain number of sheets for The British Critic 
 
1833 to 1839 69 
 
 from myself and my friends, while a gentleman 
 was editor, a man of splendid talent, who, how- 
 ever, was scarcely an acquaintance of mine, and 
 had no sympathy with the Tracts. When I was 
 editor myself, from 1838 to 1841, in my very 
 first number, I suffered to appear a critique un- 
 favourable to my work on Justification, which 
 had been published a few months before, from 
 a feeling of propriety, because I had put the 
 book into the hands of the writer who so 
 handled it. Afterwards, I suffered an article 
 against the Jesuits to appear in it of which I 
 did not like the tone. When I had to provide 
 a curate for my new church at Littlemore, I 
 engaged a friend, by no fault of his, who, before 
 he entered into his charge, preached a sermon, 
 either in depreciation of Baptismal Regeneration, 
 or of Dr Pusey's view of it. I showed a similar 
 easiness as to the editors who helped me in 
 the separate volumes of Fleury's Church History ; 
 they were able, learned, and excellent men, but 
 their after-history has shown how little my 
 choice of them was influenced by any notion 
 I could have had of any intimate agreement 
 of opinion between them and myself. I shall 
 have to make the same remark in its place 
 concerning the Lives of the English Saints, which 
 subsequently appeared. All this may seem 
 inconsistent with what I have said of my fierce- 
 ness. I am not bound to account for it; but 
 there have been men before me, fierce in act, 
 yet tolerant and moderate in their reasonings; 
 at least so I read history. However, such was 
 the case, and such its effect upon the Tracts. 
 These, at first starting, were short, hasty, and 
 some of them ineffective ; and at the end of 
 
70 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 the year, when collected into a volume, they 
 had a slovenly appearance. 
 
 It was under these circumstances, that Dr 
 Pusey joined us. I had known him well since 
 1827-8, and had felt for him an enthusiastic 
 admiration. I used to call him 6 \j.iya.c,. His 
 great learning, his immense diligence, his scholar- 
 like mind, his simple devotion to the cause of 
 religion, overcame me ; and great of course was 
 my joy, when in the last days of 1833 he 
 showed a disposition to make common cause 
 with us. His Tract on Fasting appeared as one 
 of the series, with the date of December 21. 
 He was not, however, I think fully associated 
 in the Movement till 1835 and 1836, when he 
 published his Tract on Baptism, and started the 
 Library of the Fathers. He at once gave to us 
 a position and a name. Without him we should 
 have had no chance, especially at the early date 
 of 1834, of making any serious resistance to the 
 Liberal aggression. But Dr Pusey was a Pro- 
 fessor and Canon of Christ Church; he had a 
 vast influence in consequence of his deep religious 
 seriousness, the munificence of his charities, his 
 professorship, his family connexions, and his 
 easy relations with University authorities. He was 
 to the Movement all that Mr Rose might have 
 been, with that indispensable addition, which 
 was wanting to Mr Rose, the intimate friendship 
 and the familiar daily society of the persons 
 who had commenced it. And he had that 
 special claim on their attachment which lies 
 in the living presence of a faithful and loyal 
 afFectionateness. There was henceforth a man 
 who could be the head and centre of the zealous 
 people, in every part of the country, who were 
 
1833 to 1839 71 
 
 adopting the new opinions ; and not only so, 
 but there was one who furnished the Movement 
 with a front to the world, and gained for it a 
 recognition from other parties in the University. 
 In 1829, Mr Froude, or Mr R. Wilberforce, or 
 Mr Newman were but individuals; and, when 
 they ranged themselves in the contest of that 
 year on the side of Sir Robert Inglis, men on 
 either side only asked with surprise how they 
 got there, and attached no significancy to the 
 fact ; but Dr Pusey was, to use the common 
 expression, a host in himself; he was able to 
 give a name, a form, and a personality to what 
 was without him a sort of mob ; and when various 
 parties had to meet together in order to resist 
 the Liberal acts of the Government, we of the 
 Movement took our place by right among them. 
 Such was the benefit which he conferred on 
 the Movement externally; nor was the internal 
 advantage at all inferior to it. He was a man 
 of large designs ; he had a hopeful, sanguine 
 mind ; he had no fear of others ; he was haunted 
 by no intellectual perplexities. People are apt 
 to say that he was once nearer to the Catholic 
 Church than he is now ; I pray God that he 
 may be one day nearer to the Catholic Church 
 than he was then ; for I believe that, in his 
 reason and judgment, all the time that I knew 
 him, he never was near to it at all. When I 
 became a Catholic, I was often asked, 'What of 
 Dr Pusey?' — when I said that I did not see 
 symptoms of his doing as I had done, I was 
 sometimes thought uncharitable. If confidence 
 in his position is (as it is) a first essential in 
 the leader of a party, Dr Pusey had it. The 
 most remarkable instance of this was his state- 
 
72 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 ment, in one of his subsequent defences of the 
 Movement, when, too, it had advanced a consider- 
 able way in the direction of Rome, that among 
 its most hopeful peculiarities was its ' stationari- 
 ness \ He made it in good faith ; it was his 
 subjective view of it. 
 
 Dr Pusey's influence was felt at once. He 
 saw that there ought to be more sobriety, more 
 gravity, more careful pains, more sense of 
 responsibility in the Tracts, and in the whole 
 Movement. It was through him that the 
 character of the Tracts was changed. When 
 he gave to us his Tract on Fasting, he put 
 his initials to it. In 1835 he published his 
 elaborate Treatise on Baptism, which was fol- 
 lowed by other Tracts from different authors, 
 if not of equal learning, yet of equal power 
 and appositeness. The Catenas of Anglican 
 divines which occur in the Series, though pro- 
 jected, I think, by me, were executed with a 
 like aim at greater accuracy and method. In 
 1836 he advertised his great project for a Trans- 
 lation of the Fathers — but I must return to 
 myself. I am not writing the history either of 
 Dr Pusey, or of the Movement; but it is a 
 pleasure to me to have been able to introduce 
 here reminiscences of the place which he held 
 in it, which have so direct a bearing on myself, 
 that they are no digression from my narrative. 
 
 I suspect it was Dr Pusey's influence and 
 example which set me, and made me set others, 
 on the larger and more careful works in defence 
 of the principles of the Movement which follow- 
 ed in a course of years — some of them demanding, 
 and receiving from their authors, such elaborate 
 
1833 to 1839 73 
 
 treatment that they did not make their appear- 
 ance till both its temper and its fortunes had 
 changed. I set about a work at once; one in 
 which was brought out with precision the relat- 
 ion in which we stood to the Church of Rome. 
 We could not move a step in comfort till this 
 was done. It was of absolute necessity, and 
 a plain duty, to provide as soon as possible a 
 large statement, which would encourage and 
 re-assure our friends, and repel the attacks of 
 our opponents. A cry was heard on all sides of 
 us, that the Tracts and the writings on the 
 Fathers would lead us to become Catholics be- 
 fore we were aware of it. This was loudly ex- 
 pressed by members of the Evangelical party, who, 
 in 1836 had joined us in making a protest in 
 Convocation against a memorable appointment 
 of the Prime Minister. These clergymen even 
 then avowed their desire, that the next time 
 they were brought up to Oxford to give a vote, 
 it might be in order to put down the Popery 
 of the Movement. There was another reason 
 still, and quite as important. Monsignore Wiseman, 
 with the acuteness and zeal which might be 
 expected from that great prelate, had antici- 
 pated what was coming, had returned to England 
 in 1836, had delivered lectures in London on 
 the doctrines of Catholicism, and created an 
 impression through the country, shared in by 
 ourselves, that we had for our opponents in 
 controversy, not only our brethren, but our 
 hereditary foes. These were the circumstances 
 which led to my publication of The Prophetical 
 office of the Church viewed relatively to Romanism 
 and Popular Protestantism. 
 
 This work employed me for three years, from 
 
74 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 the beginning of 1834 to the end of 1836. It 
 was composed after a careful consideration and 
 comparison of the principal Anglican divines of 
 the 17th century. It was first written in the 
 shape of controversial correspondence with a 
 learned French priest; then it was re-cast, and 
 delivered in lectures at St Mary's: lastly, with 
 considerable retrenchments and additions, it was 
 re-written for publication. 
 
 It attemps to trace out the rudimental lines 
 on which Christian faith and teaching proceed, 
 and to use them as means of determining the 
 relation of the Roman and Anglican systems to 
 each other. In this way it shows that to confuse 
 the two together is impossible, and that the 
 Anglican can be as little said to tend to the 
 Roman, as the Roman to the Anglican. The 
 spirit of the Volume is not so gentle to the 
 Church of Rome, as Tract 71, published the year 
 before ; on the contrary, it is very fierce ; and 
 this I attribute to the circumstance that the 
 volume is theological and didactic, whereas 
 the Tract, being controversial, assumes as little 
 and grants as much as possible on the points 
 in dispute, and insists on points of agreement 
 as well as of difference. A further and more 
 direct reason is, that in my volume I deal with 
 c Romanism' (as I call it), not so much in its 
 formal decrees, and in the substance of its creed, 
 as in its traditional action and its authorized 
 teaching as represented by its prominent writers ; 
 whereas the Tract is written as discussing the 
 differences of the Churches with a view to a 
 reconciliation between them. There is a further 
 reason too, which I will state presently. 
 
 But this volume had a larger scope than that 
 
1833 to 1839 75 
 
 of opposing the Roman system. It was an attempt 
 at commencing a system of theology on the 
 Anglican idea, and based upon Anglican authori- 
 ties. Mr Palmer, about the same time, was 
 projecting a work of a similar nature in his 
 own way. It was published, I think, under the 
 title, A Treatise on the Christian Church. As was 
 to be expected from the author, it was a most 
 learned, most careful composition ; and in its 
 form, I should say, polemical. So happily at 
 least did he follow the logical method of the 
 Roman Schools, that Father Perrone in his Trea- 
 tise on Dogmatic Theology, recognized in him a 
 combatant of the true cast, and saluted him as 
 a foe worthy of being vanquished. Other soldiers 
 in that field he seems to have thought little 
 better than the Lajizknechts of the middle ages, 
 and, I dare say, with very good reason. When 
 I knew that excellent and kind-hearted man 
 at Rome, at a later time, he allowed me to 
 put him to ample penance for those light thoughts 
 of me, which he had once had, by encroaching 
 on his valuable time with my theological ques- 
 tions. As to Mr Palmer's book, it was one which 
 no Anglican could write but himself — in no 
 sense, if I recollect aright, a tentative work. 
 The ground of controversy was cut into squares, 
 and then every objection had its answer. This 
 is the proper method to adopt in teaching authori- 
 tatively young men ; and the work in fact was 
 intended for students in theology. My own 
 book, on the other hand, was of a directly 
 tentative and empirical character. I wished to 
 build up an Anglican theology out of the stores 
 which already lay cut and hewn upon the ground, 
 the past toil of great divines. To do this could 
 
76 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 not be the work of one man ; much less could it be at 
 once received into Anglican theology, however well 
 it was done. I fully trusted that my statements of 
 doctrine would turn out true and important ; yet I 
 wrote, to use the common phrase, f under correction/ 
 There was another motive for my publishing, 
 of a personal nature, which I think I should 
 mention. I felt then, and all along felt, that 
 there was an intellectual cowardice in not having 
 a basis in reason for my belief, and a moral 
 cowardice in not avowing that basis. I should 
 have felt myself less than a man if I did not 
 bring it out, whatever it was. This is one 
 principal reason why I wrote and published 
 The Prophetical Office. It was on the same 
 feeling that in the spring of 1836, at a meet- 
 ing of residents on the subject of the struggle 
 then proceeding, someone wanted us all merely 
 to act on college and conservative grounds (as 
 I understood him), with as few published state- 
 ments as possible: I answered, that the person 
 whom we were resisting had committed himself 
 in writing, and that we ought to commit our- 
 selves too. This again was a main reason for 
 the publication of Tract 90. Alas ! it was my 
 portion for whole years to remain without any 
 satisfactory basis for my religious profession, in 
 a state of moral sickness, neither able to acquiesce 
 in Anglicanism, nor able to go to Rome. But I 
 bore it till, in course of time, my way was made 
 clear to me. If here it be objected to me, that as 
 time went on I often in my writings hinted at 
 things which I did not fully bring out, I submit 
 for consideration whether this occurred except 
 when I was in great difficulties, how to speak, or 
 how to be silent, with due regard for the position 
 
1833 to 1839 77 
 
 of mind or the feelings of others. However, I 
 
 may have an opportunity to say more on this 
 
 subject. But to return to the Prophetical Office, 
 
 I thus speak in the Introduction to my Volume : 
 
 It is proposed (I say) to offer helps towards the formation 
 of a recognized Anglican theology in one of its departments. 
 The present state of onr divinity is as follows: the most 
 vigorous, the clearest, the most fertile minds, have through 
 God's mercy been employed in the service of onr Chnrch: 
 minds, too, as reverential and holy, and as fnlly imbned 
 with Ancient Truth, and as well versed in the writings of 
 the Fathers, as they were intellectually gifted. This is 
 God's great mercy, indeed, for which we must ever be 
 thankful. Primitive doctrine has been explored for us in 
 every direction, and the original principles of the Gospel 
 and the Church patiently brought to light. But one thing 
 is still wanting; our champions and teachers have lived 
 in stormy times; political and other influences have acted 
 upon them variously in their day, and have since obstructed 
 a careful consolidation of their judgments. We have a 
 vast inheritance, but no inventory of our treasures. All 
 is given us in profusion; it remains for us to catalogue, 
 sort, distribute, select, harmonize, and complete. We 
 have more than we know how to use; stores of learning, 
 but little that is precise and serviceable; Catholic truth 
 and individual opinion, first principles, and the guesses 
 of genius, all mingled in the same works, and requiring 
 to be discriminated. We meet with truths overstated, or 
 misdirected, matters of detail variously taken, facts 
 incompletely proved or applied, and rules inconsistently 
 urged, or discordantly interpreted. Such, indeed, is the 
 state of every deep philosophy in its first stages, and 
 therefore of theological knowledge. What we need at 
 present for our Church's well-being, is not invention, nor 
 originality, nor sagacity, nor even learning in our divines, 
 at least in the first place, though all gifts of God are 
 in a measure needed, and never can be unseasonable 
 when used religiously, but we need peculiarly a sound 
 judgment, patient thought, discrimination, a comprehensive 
 mind, an abstinence from all private fancies and caprices 
 and personal tastes — in a word, Divine Wisdom. 
 
 The subject of the volume is the doctrine 
 of the Via Media, a name which had already 
 
78 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 been applied to the Anglican system by writers 
 of name. It is an expressive title, but not 
 altogether satisfactory, because it is at first sight 
 negative. This had been the reason of my dis- 
 like to the word * Protestant ' ; in the idea which 
 it conveyed, it was not the profession of any 
 religion at all, and was compatible with infidelity. 
 A Via Media was but a receding from extremes, 
 therefore I had to draw it out into a shape, 
 and a character; before it had claims on our 
 respect, it must first be shown to be one, intellig- 
 ible, and consistent. This was the first condi- 
 tion of any reasonable treatise on the Via Media. 
 The second condition, and necessary too, was 
 not in my power. I could only hope that it 
 would one day be fulfilled. Even if the Via 
 Media were ever so positive a religious system, 
 it was not as yet objective and real; it had no 
 original anywhere of which it was the repre- 
 sentative. It was at present a paper religion. 
 This I confess in my Introduction ; I say e Pro- 
 testantism and Popery are real religions... but 
 the Via Media, viewed as an integral system, 
 has scarcely had existence except on paper.' 
 I grant the objection, and proceed to lessen it. 
 There I say, c It still remains to be tried, whether 
 what is called Anglo-Catholicism, the religion 
 of Andrewes, Laud, Hammond, Butler, and 
 Wilson, is capable of being professed, acted on, 
 and maintained on a large sphere of action, or 
 whether it be a mere modification or transition- 
 state of either Romanism or popular Protestan- 
 tism.' I trusted that some day it would prove 
 to be a substantive religion. 
 
 Lest I should be misunderstood, let me ob- 
 serve that this hesitation about the validity of 
 
1833 to 1839 79 
 
 the theory of the Via Media implied no doubt 
 of the three fundamental points on which it 
 was based, as I have described above, dogma, 
 the sacramental system, and opposition to the 
 Church of Rome. ' 
 
 Other investigations which followed, gave a 
 still more tentative character to what I wrote, 
 or got written. The basis of the Via Media, 
 consisting of the three elementary points which 
 I have just mentioned, was clear enough ; but, 
 not only had the house to be built upon them, 
 but it had also to be furnished, and it is not 
 wonderful if both I and others erred in detail 
 in determining what that furniture should be, 
 what was consistent with the style of building, 
 and what was in itself desirable. I will explain 
 what I mean. 
 
 I had brought out in The Prophetical Office 
 in what the Roman and the Anglican systems 
 differed from each other, but less distinctly in 
 what they agreed. I had, indeed, enumerated 
 the Fundamentals common to both in the 
 following passage: 
 
 In both systems the same Creeds are acknowledged. 
 Besides other points in common, we both hold, that certain 
 doctrines are necessary to be believed for salvation; we 
 both believe in the doctrines of the Trinity, Incarnation, 
 and Atonement; in original sin; in the necessity of regenera- 
 tion; in the snpernatnral grace of the Sacraments; in the 
 Apostolical snccession; in the obligation of faith and 
 obedience, and in the eternity of future punishment, 
 (pp. 55-6) 
 
 So much I had said, but I had not said 
 enough. This enumeration implied a great many 
 more points of agreement than were found in 
 those very Articles which were fundamental. 
 If the two Churches were thus the same in 
 
80 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS ** "" % 
 
 fundamentals, they were also one and th£ J*nr*?i 
 in such plain consequences as are containecMai 
 those fundamentals, or as outwardly represenrea | 
 them. It was an Anglican principle that/ the 
 abuse of a thing doth not take away the la«wtfe(h 
 use of it' ; and an Anglican Canon, in 1603, had. 
 declared that the English Church had no p|£- 
 pose to forsake all that was held in the Churches 
 of Italy, France, and Spain, and reverenced i 
 those ceremonies and particular points which • 
 were Apostolic. Excepting then such exeptional 
 matters, as are implied in this avowal, whether 
 they were many or few, all these Churches 
 were evidently to be considered as one with 
 the Anglican. The Catholic Church in all lands 
 had been one from the first for many centuries ; 
 then, various portions had followed their own 
 way, to the injury, but not to the destruction, 
 whether of truth or of charity. These portions, 
 or branches, were mainly three : the Greek, 
 Latin, and Anglican. Each of these inherited 
 the early undivided Church in solido as its own 
 possession. Each branch was identical with that 
 early, undivided Church, and in the unity of 
 that Church it had unity with the other branches. 
 The three branches agreed together in all but 
 their later accidental errors. Some branches 
 had retained in detail portions of Apostolical 
 truth and usage which the others had not; and these 
 portions might be, and should be, appropriated 
 again by the others which had let them slip. Thus, 
 the middle age belonged to the Anglican Church, 
 and much more did the middle age of England. 
 The Church of the 12th century was the Church 
 of the 19th. Dr Howley sat in the seat of 
 St Thomas the Martyr ; Oxford was a medieval 
 
1833 to 1839 81 
 
 University. Saving our engagements to Prayer 
 Book and Articles, we might breathe, and live, 
 and act, and speak, in the atmosphere and cli- 
 mate of Henry Ill's day, or the Confessor's, or 
 of Alfred's. And we ought to be indulgent of 
 all that Rome taught now, as of what Rome 
 taught then, saving our protest. We might 
 boldly welcome even what we did not ourselves 
 think right to adopt. And, when we were 
 obliged, on the contrary, boldly to denounce, we 
 should do so with pain, not with exultation. 
 By very reason of our protest, which we had 
 made, and made ex animo, we could agree to 
 differ. What the members of the Bible Society 
 did on the basis of Scripture, we could do on 
 the basis of the Church ; Trinitarian and Unitar- 
 ian were further apart than Roman and Anglican. 
 Thus we had a real wish to co-operate with 
 Rome in all lawful things, if she would let us, 
 and the rules of our own Church let us; and 
 we thought there was no better way towards the 
 restoration of doctrinal purity and unity. And 
 we thought that Rome was not committed by 
 her formal decrees to all that she actually taught ; 
 and again, if her disputants had been unfair to 
 us, or her rulers tyrannical, that on our side 
 too there had been rancour and slander in our 
 controversy with her, and violence in our polit- 
 ical measures. As to ourselves being instruments 
 in improving the belief or practice of Rome 
 directly, I used to say, ( Look at home ; let us 
 first, or at least let us the while, supply our 
 own short-comings before we attempt to be 
 physicians to any one else '. This is very much 
 the spirit of Tract 71, to which I referred just 
 now. I am well aware that there is a paragraph 
 
82 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 contrary to it in the Prospectus to the Library 
 of the Fathers ; but I never concurred in it. In- 
 deed, I have no intention whatever of implying 
 that Dr Pusey concurred in the ecclesiastical 
 theory which I have been drawing out; nor 
 that I took it up myself, except by degrees, in 
 the course of ten years. It was necessarily the 
 growth of time. In fact, hardly any two 
 persons, who took part in the Movement, 
 agreed in their view of the limit to which 
 our general principles might religiously be 
 carried. 
 
 And now I have said enough on what I 
 consider to have been the general objects of 
 the various works which I wrote, edited, or 
 prompted in the years which I am reviewing; 
 ^^1 wanted to bring out in a substantive form a 
 ' living Church of England, in a position proper 
 to herself, and founded on distinct principles ; 
 as far as paper could do it, and as earnestly 
 preaching it, and influencing others towards it, 
 could tend to make it a fact — a living Church, 
 made of flesh and blood, with voice, complexion, 
 and motion, and action, and a will of its own. I 
 believe I had no private motive, and no personal 
 aim. Nor did I ask for more than ( a fair stage 
 and no favour', nor expect the work would be 
 done in my days ; but I thought that enough 
 would be secured to continue it in the future 
 under, perhaps, more hopeful circumstances and 
 prospects than the present. 
 
 I will mention in illustration some of the princi- 
 pal works, doctrinal and historical, which orig- 
 inated in the object which I have stated. 
 
 I wrote my Essay on Justification in 1837; it 
 was aimed at the Lutheran dictum that justifica- 
 
1833 to 1839 83 
 
 tion by faith only was the cardinal doctrine of 
 Christianity. I considered that this doctrine was 
 either a paradox or a truism — a paradox in Luther's 
 mouth, a truism in Melanchton's. I thought that 
 the Anglican Church followed Melanchton, and 
 that, in consequence, between Rome and Angli- 
 canism, between high Church and low Church, 
 there was no real intellectual difference on the 
 point. I wished to fill up a ditch, the work of 
 man. In this volume again I express my desire 
 to build up a system of theology out of the 
 Anglican divines, and imply that my dissertation 
 was a tentative inquiry. I speak in the preface 
 of ' offering suggestions towards a work, which 
 must be uppermost in the mind of every true 
 son of the English Church at this day— the 
 consolidation of a theological system, which, 
 built upon those formularies, to which all clergy- 
 men are bound, may tend to inform, persuade, 
 and absorb into itself, religious minds, which 
 hitherto have fancied, that, on the peculiar 
 Protestant questions, they were seriously opposed 
 to each other.' — P. vii. 
 
 In my University Sermotis there is a series of 
 discussions upon the subject of Faith and Reason ; 
 these again were the tentative commencement of 
 a grave and necessary work ; it was an inquiry 
 into the ultimate basis of religious faith, prior 
 to the distinction into Creeds. 
 
 In like manner in a pamphlet which I published 
 in the summer of 1838 is an attempt at placing the 
 doctrine of the Real Presence on an intellectual 
 basis. The fundamental idea is consonant to that 
 to which I had been so long attached ; it is the 
 denial of the existence of space except as a 
 subjective idea of our minds. 
 
84 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 The Church of the Fathers is one of the earliest 
 productions of the Movement, and appeared in 
 numbers, in The British Magazine, and was written 
 with the aim of introducing the religious sen- 
 y/ timents, views, and customs of the first ages 
 into the modern Church of England. 
 
 The translation of Fleury's Church History was 
 commenced under these circumstances: I was 
 fond of Fleury for a reason which I express in 
 the Advertisement; because it presented a sort 
 of photograph of ecclesiastical history without 
 any comment upon it. In the event, that simple 
 representation of the early centuries had a good 
 deal to do with unsettling me ; but how little 
 I could anticipate this will be seen in the fact 
 that the publication was a favourite scheme of 
 Mr Rose's. He proposed it to me twice, be- 
 tween the years 1834 and 1837; and I mention 
 it as one out of many particulars, curiously 
 illustrating how truly my change of opinion 
 arose, not from foreign influences, but from the 
 working of my own mind, and the accidents 
 around me. The date at which the portion 
 actually translated began was determined by 
 the publisher on reasons with which we were 
 not concerned. 
 
 Another historical work, but drawn from orig- 
 inal sources, was given to the world by my 
 old friend Mr Bowden, being a Life of Pope 
 Gregory VII I need scarcely recall to those 
 who have read it the power and the liveliness 
 of the narrative. This composition was the 
 author's relaxation on evenings, and in his sum- 
 mer vacations, from his ordinary engagements 
 in London. It had been suggested to him origin- 
 ally by me, at the instance of Hurrell Froude. 
 
1833 to 1839 85 
 
 The Series of the Lives of the English Saints was 
 projected at a later period, uuder circumstances 
 which I shall have in the sequel to describe. 
 Those beautiful compositions have nothing in 
 them, as far as I recollect, simply inconsistent 
 with the general objects which I have been 
 assigning to my labours in these years, though 
 the immediate occasion of them and their 
 tone could not, in the exercise of the largest 
 indulgence, be said to have an Anglican 
 direction. 
 
 At a comparatively early date I drew up the 
 Tract on the Roman Breviary. It frightened my 
 own friends on its first appearance, and, several 
 years afterwards, when younger men began to 
 translate for publication the four volumes in 
 extenso, they were dissuaded from doing so by 
 advice to which from a sense of duty they 
 listened. It was an apparent accident which 
 introduced me to the knowledge of that most 
 wonderful and most attractive monument of the 
 devotion of saints. On Hurrel Froude's death, 
 in 1836, I was asked to select one of his books 
 as a keepsake. I selected Butler's Analogy; 
 finding that it had been already chosen, I looked 
 with some perplexity along the shelves as they 
 stood before me, when an intimate friend at 
 my elbow said, ( Take that \ It was the Breviary 
 which Hurrell had had with him at Barbados. 
 Accordingly I took it, studied it, wrote my 
 Tract from it, and have it on my table in con- 
 stant use till this day. 
 
 That dear and familiar companion, who thus 
 put the Breviary into my hands, is still in the 
 Anglican Church. So, too, is that early vene- 
 rated, long-loved friend, together with whom 
 
86 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 I edited a work which, more perhaps than 
 any other, caused disturbance and annoyance 
 in the Anglican world, Froude's Remains; yet, 
 however judgment might run as to the prudence 
 of publishing it, I never heard any one impute 
 to Mr Keble the very shadow of dishonesty or 
 treachery towards his Church in so acting. 
 
 The annotated translation of the Treatise of 
 St. Athanasiiis was of course in no sense a 
 tentative work; it belongs to another order of 
 thought. This his tori co-dogmatic work employed 
 me for years. I had made preparations for 
 following it up with a doctrinal history of the 
 heresies which succeeded to the Arian. 
 
 I should make mention also of The British 
 Critic. I was editor of it for three years, from 
 July 1838 to July 1841. My writers belonged 
 to various schools, some to none at all. The 
 subjects are various — classical, academical, polit- 
 ical, critical, and artistic, as well as theological, 
 and upon the Movement none are to be found 
 which do not keep quite clear of advocating 
 the cause of Rome. 
 
 So I went on for years, up to 1841. It was, 
 in a human point of view, the happiest time 
 of my life. I was truly at home. I had in 
 one of my volumes appropriated to myself the 
 words of Bramhall, 'Bees, by the instinct of 
 nature, do love their hives, and birds their 
 nests'. I did not suppose that such sunshine 
 would last, though I knew not what would be 
 its termination. It was the time of plenty, 
 and, during its seven years, I tried to lay up 
 as much as I could for the death which was 
 to follow it. We prospered and spread, I have 
 
1833 to 1839 87 
 
 spoken of the doings of these years, since I 
 was a Catholic, in a passage, part of which I 
 will quote, though there is a sentence in it that 
 requires some limitation: 
 
 Prom beginnings so small (I said) from elements of 
 thought so fortuitous, with prospects so unpromising, the 
 Anglo-Catholic party suddenly became a power in the 
 National Church, and an object of alarm to her rulers and 
 friends. Its originators would have found it difficult to 
 say what they aimed at of a practical kind: rather, they 
 put forth views and principles, for their own sake, because 
 they were true, as if they were obliged to say them ; and, 
 as they might be themselves surprised at their earnestness 
 in uttering them, they had as great cause to be surprised 
 at the success which attended their propagation. And, in 
 fact, they could only say that those doctrines were in the 
 air; that to assert was to prove, and that to explain was 
 to persuade; and that the Movement in which they were 
 taking part was the birth of a crisis rather than of a place. 
 In a very few years a school of opinion was formed, fixed 
 in its principles, indefinite and progressive in their range; 
 and it extended itself into every part of the country. If 
 we inquire what the world thought of it, we have still 
 more to raise our wonder; for, not to mention the excite- 
 ment it caused in England, the Movement and its party- 
 names were known to the police of Italy and to the 
 back-woodsmen of America. And so it proceeded, getting 
 stronger and stronger every year, till it came into collision 
 with the Nation, and that Church of the Nation, which it 
 began by professing especially to serve. 
 
 The greater its success, the nearer was that 
 collision at hand. The first threatenings of the 
 crisis were heard in 1838. At that time, my Bishop 
 in a Charge made some light animadversions, but 
 they were animadversions, on the Tracts for the 
 Times. At once I offered to stop them. What 
 took place on the occasion I prefer to state in 
 the words in which I related it in a Pamphlet 
 addressed to him in a later year, when the blow 
 actually came down upon me. 
 
 f Jn your Lordships Charge for 1 838 % I said, 
 
88 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 ' an allusion was made to the Tracts Jor the Timet> 
 Some opponents of the Tracts said that you treated 
 them with undue indulgence... I wrote to the 
 Archdeacon on the subject, submitting the Tracts 
 entirely to your Lordship's disposal. What I 
 thought about your Charge will appear from 
 the words I then used to him. I said " A Bishop's 
 lightest word ex cathedra is heavy. His judgment 
 on a book cannot be light. It is a rare occur- 
 rence.' ' And I offered to withdraw any of the 
 Tracts over which I had control if I were informed 
 which were those to which your Lordship had 
 objections. I afterwards wrote to your Lordship 
 to this effect, that u I trusted I might say sincere- 
 ly that I should feel a more lively pleasure in 
 knowing that I was submitting myself to your 
 Lordship's expressed judgment in a matter of 
 that kind, than I could have even in the widest 
 circulation of the volumes in question." Your 
 Lordship did not think it necessary to proceed 
 to such a measure, but I felt, and always have 
 felt, that, if ever you determined on it, I was 
 bound to obey.' 
 
 That day at length came, and I conclude this 
 portion of my narrative, with relating the circum- 
 stances of it. 
 
 From the time that I had entered upon the 
 duties of Public Tutor at my college, when my 
 doctrinal views were very different from what 
 they were in 1841, I had meditated a comment 
 upon the Articles. Then, when the Movement 
 was in its swing, friends had said to me 'What 
 will you make of the Articles ? ' — but I did not 
 share the apprehension which their question 
 implied. Whether, as time went on, I should 
 
1833 to 1839 89 
 
 have been forced, by the necessities of the original 
 theory of the Movement, to put on paper the 
 speculations which I had about them, I am not 
 able to conjecture. The actual cause of my doing 
 so, in the beginning of 1841, was the restlessness, 
 actual and prospective, of those who neither liked 
 the Via Media nor my strong judgment against 
 Rome. I had been enjoined, I think by my Bishop, 
 to keep these men straight, and 1 wished so to 
 do : but their tangible difficulty was subscription 
 to the Articles ; and thus the question of the 
 Articles came before me. It was thrown in our 
 teeth ; e How can you manage to sign the 
 Articles? They are directly against Rome\ 
 ' Against Rome?' I made answer, 'What do 
 you mean by Rome?' and then I proceeded to 
 make distinctions, of which I shall now give an 
 account. 
 
 By * Roman doctrine ' might be meant one of 
 three things: 1, the Catholic teaching of the 
 early centuries ; or 2, the formal dogmas oj Rome 
 as contained in the later Councils, especially 
 the Council of Trent, and as condensed in the 
 Creed of Pope Pius IV ; 3, the actual popular 
 beliejs and usages sanctioned by Rome in the 
 countries in communion with it, over and above 
 the dogmas ; and these I called 'dominant errors'. 
 Now Protestants commonly* thought that in all 
 three senses ' Roman doctrine" was condemned 
 in the Articles: I thought that the Catholic 
 teaching was not condemned ; that the dominant 
 errors were ; and as to the formal dogmas, that 
 some were, some were not, and that the line 
 had to be drawn between them. Thus, 1, the 
 use of prayers for the dead was a Catholic 
 doctrine — not condemned ; 2, the prison of Pur- 
 
90 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 gatory was a Roman dogma — which was con- 
 demned; but the infallibility of Ecumenical 
 Councils was a Roman dogma — not condemned ; 
 and 3, the fire of Purgatory was an authorized 
 and popular error, not a dogma — which was 
 condemned. 
 
 Further, I considered that the difficulties, felt 
 by the persons whom I have mentioned, mainly 
 lay in their mistaking, 1, Catholic teaching, 
 which was not condemned in the Articles, for 
 Roman dogma which was condemned ; and 2, 
 Roman dogma, which was not condemned in 
 the Articles, for dominant error which was. If 
 they went further than this, I had nothing more 
 to say to them. 
 
 A further motive which I had for my attempt 
 was the desire to ascertain the ultimate points 
 of contrariety between the Roman and Anglican 
 creeds, and to make them as few as possible. 
 I thought that each creed was obscured and 
 misrepresented by a dominant, circumambient 
 c Popery', and c Protestantism/ 
 
 The main thesis then of my essay was this : 
 the Articles do not oppose Catholic teaching; 
 they but partially oppose Roman dogma; they 
 for the most part oppose the dominant errors of 
 Rome. And the problem was to draw the line as 
 s to what they allowed, and what they condemned. 
 
 Such being the object which I had in view, 
 what were my prospects of widening and 
 defining their meaning? The prospect was 
 encouraging ; there was no doubt at all of the 
 elasticity of the Articles : to take a palmary 
 instance, the seventeenth was assumed by one 
 party to be Lutheran, by another Calvinistie, 
 though the two interpretations were contradict- 
 
1833 to 1839 91 
 
 ory to each other; why then should not other 
 Articles be drawn up with a vagueness of an equal- 
 ly intense character ? I wanted to ascertain what 
 was the limit of that elasticity in the direction 
 of Roman dogma. But next, I had a way of 
 inquiry of my own which I state without defend- 
 ing. I instanced it afterwards in my Essay on 
 Doctrinal Development. That work, I believe, I 
 have not read since I published it, and I doubt 
 not at all that I have made many mistakes in 
 it; partly from my ignorance of the details of 
 doctrine as the Church of Rome holds them, 
 but partly from my impatience to clear as large 
 a range for the principle of doctrinal development 
 (waiving the question of historical fac£) as was 
 consistent with the strict Apostolicity and identity 
 of the Catholic Creed. In like manner, as regards 
 the 39 Articles, my method of inquiry was to 
 leap in medias res. I wished to institute an inquiry, 
 how far, in critical fairness, the text could be 
 opened ; I was aiming far more at ascertaining 
 what a man who subscribed it might hold than 
 what he must, so that my conclusions were 
 negative rather than positive. It was but a first 
 essay. And I made it with the full recognition 
 and consciousness, which I had already expressed 
 in my Prophetical Office as regards the Via Media, 
 that I was making only f a first approximation to 
 a required solution ', — ' a series of illustrations sup- 
 plying hints in the removal ' of a difficulty, and 
 with full acknowledgment, c that in minor points, 
 whether in question of fact or of judgment, there 
 was room for difference or error of opinion', and 
 that I ' should not be ashamed to own a mistake, 
 if it were proved against me, nor reluctant to 
 bear the just blame of it.' — P, 31, 
 
92 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 In addition, I was embarrassed in consequence 
 of my wish to go as far as was possible in 
 interpreting the Articles in the direction of 
 Roman dogma, without disclosing what I was 
 doing to the parties whose doubts I was meeting, 
 who might be thereby encouraged to go still 
 further than at present they found in themselves 
 any call to do. 
 
 1. But in the way of such an attempt comes 
 the prompt objection, that the Articles were 
 actually drawn up against ( Popery', and there- 
 fore it was transcendently absurd and dishonest 
 to suppose that Popery in any shape — patristic 
 belief, Tridentine dogma, or popular corruption 
 authoritatively sanctioned — would be able to take 
 refuge under their text. This premiss I denied. 
 Not any religious doctrine at all, but a political 
 principle, was the primary English idea at that 
 time of ( Popery*. And what was that political 
 principle, and how could it best be kept out of 
 England? What was the great question in the 
 days of Henry and Elizabeth? The Supremacy 
 — now, was I saying one single word in favour 
 of the Supremacy of the Holy See, of the foreign 
 jurisdiction? No; I did not believe in it myself. 
 Did Henry VIII religiously hold Justification 
 by faith only; did he disbelieve Purgatory? Was 
 Elizabeth zealous for the marriage of the Clergy, 
 or had she a conscience against the Mass? The 
 Supremacy of the Pope was the essence of the 
 ' Popery ', to which, at the time of the Articles, 
 the Supreme Head or Governor of the English 
 Church was so violently hostile. 
 
 2. But again I said this: let 'Popery' mean 
 what it would in the mouths of the compilers 
 of the Articles, let it even, for argument's sake, 
 
1833 to 1839 93 
 
 include the doctrines of that Tridentirie Council, 
 which was not yet over when the Articles were 
 drawn up, and against which they could not be 
 simply directed, yet, consider, what was the 
 religious object of the Government in their 
 imposition? Merely to disown ' Popery'? No ; it 
 had the further object of gaining the ' Papists'. 
 What then was the best way to induce reluctant 
 or wavering minds, and these, I supposed, were 
 the majority, to give in their adhesion to the 
 new symbol? How had the Arians drawn up 
 their creeds? Was it not on the principle of 
 using vague, ambiguous language, which to the 
 subscribers would seem to bear a Catholic sense, 
 but which, when worked out in the long run, 
 would prove to be heterodox ? Accordingly, there 
 was great antecedent probability, that, fierce as 
 the Articles might look at first sight, their bark 
 would prove worse than their bite. I say anteced- 
 ent probability, for to what extent that surmise 
 might be true, could only be ascertained by 
 investigation, 
 
 3. But a consideration came up at once which 
 threw light on this surmise: what if it should 
 turn out that the very men who drew up the 
 Articles, in the very act of doing so, had avowed, 
 or rather in one of those very Articles themselves, 
 had imposed on subscribers, a number of those 
 very e Papistical ' doctrines, which they were now 
 thought to deny, as part and parcel of that very 
 Protestantism which they were now thought to 
 consider divine? And this was the fact, and I 
 showed it in my Essay. 
 
 Let the reader observe : the 35th Article says : 
 'The second Book of Homilies doth contain a 
 godly and wholesome doctrine, and necessary for 
 
94 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 these times, as doth the former Book of Homilies.' 
 Here the doctrine of the Homilies is recognized 
 as godly and wholesome, and subscription to that 
 proposition is imposed on all subscribers of the 
 Articles. Let us then turn to the Homilies, and 
 see what this godly doctrine is : I quoted from 
 them to the following effect: 
 
 1. They declare that the so-called 'apocryphal' Booh of 
 Tobit is the teaching of the Holy Ghost, and is Scripture. 
 
 2. That the so-called 'apocryphal' Book of Wisdom is 
 Scripture, and the infallible and undeceivable word of God. 
 
 3. That the Primitive Church, next to the Apostles' 
 time, and, as they imply, for almost 700 years, is no doubt 
 most pure. 
 
 4. That the Primitive Church is specially to be followed. 
 
 5. That the Four first General Councils belong to the 
 Primitive Church. 
 
 6. That there are Six Councils which are allowed and 
 received by all men 
 
 7. Again, they speak of a certain truth which they 
 are enforcing, as declared by God's word, the sentences 
 of the ancient doctors, and judgment of the Primitive 
 Church. 
 
 8. Of the learned and holy Bishops and doctors of the 
 first eight centuries being of good authority and credit 
 with the people. 
 
 9. Of the declaration of Christ and Hfs Apostles and 
 all the rest of the Holy Fathers. 
 
 10. Of the authority of both Scripture, and also of 
 Augustine. 
 
 11. Of Augustine, Chrysostom, Ambrose, Jerome, and 
 about thirty other Fathers, to some of whom they give 
 the title of 'Saint', to others of ancient Catholic Fathers 
 and doctors. 
 
 12. They declare that, not only the holy Apostles and 
 disciples of Christ, but the godly Fathers also, before 
 and since Christ, were endued without doubt with the 
 Holy Ghost. 
 
 13 That the ancient Catholic Fathers say that the 
 'Lord's Supper' is the salve of immortality, the sovereign 
 preservative against death, the food of immortality, the 
 healthful grace. 
 
 14. That the Lord's Blessed Body and Blood are received 
 under the form of bread and wine. 
 
1833 to 1839 95 
 
 15. That the meat in the Sacrament is an invisible 
 meat and a ghostly substance. 
 
 16. That the holy Body and Blood onght to be touched 
 with the mind. 
 
 17. That Ordination is a Sacrament. 
 
 18. That Matrimony is a Sacrament. 
 
 19. That there are other Sacraments besides Baptism 
 and the Lord's Supper. 
 
 20. That the souls of the Saints are reigning in joy 
 and in heaven with God. 
 
 21. That alms-deeds purge the soul from the infection 
 and filthy spots of sin, and are a precious medicine, an 
 inestimable jewel. 
 
 22. That mercifulness wipes out and washes away 
 infirmity and weakness, as salves and remedies to heal 
 sores and grievous diseases. 
 
 23. That the duty of fasting is a truth more manifest 
 than it should need to be proved. 
 
 24. That fasting, used with prayer, is of great efficacy and 
 weigheth much with God; so the Angel Baphael told Tobias. 
 
 25. That the puissant and mighty Emperor Theodosius 
 was, in the Primitive Church, which was most holy and 
 godly, excommunicated by St Ambrose. 
 
 26. That Constantine, Bishop of Bome, did condemn 
 Philippicus, the Emperor, not without a cause indeed, 
 but most justly. 
 
 Putting altogether aside the question how far 
 these separate theses came under the matter to 
 which subscription was to be made, it was quite 
 plain, that the men who wrote the Homilies, 
 and who thus incorporated them into the An- 
 glican system of doctrine, could not have pos- 
 sessed that exact discrimination between the 
 Catholic and Protestant faith, or have made that 
 clear recognition of formal Protestant principles 
 and tenets, or have accepted that definition of 
 \ Roman doctrine ', which is received at this day : 
 hence great probability accrued to my presenti- 
 ment, that the Articles were tolerant, not only 
 of what I called ' Catholic teaching', but of much 
 that was ' Roman.' 
 
96 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 4. And here was another reason against the 
 notion that the Articles directly attacked the 
 Roman dogmas as declared at Trent, and as 
 promulgated by Pius the Fourth : the Council 
 of Trent was not over, nor its Decrees promul- 
 gated, at the date when the Articles were drawn 
 up, so that those Articles must be aiming at 
 something else. What was that something else ? 
 The Homilies tell us ; the Homilies are the best 
 comment upon the Articles. Let us turn to 
 the Homilies, and we shall find from first to 
 last, that not only is not the Catholic teaching 
 of the first centuries, but neither again are the 
 dogmas of Rome the objects of the protest of 
 the compilers of the Articles, but the dominant 
 errors, the popular corruptions, authorized or 
 suffered by the high name of Rome. As to 
 Catholic teaching, nay as to Roman dogma, 
 those Homilies, as I have shown, contained no 
 small portion of it themselves. 
 
 5. So much for the writers of the Articles 
 and Homilies ; they were witnesses, not author- 
 ities, and I used them as such; but in the 
 next place, who were the actual authorities 
 imposing them ? I cousidered the imponens to 
 be the Convocation of 1571; but, here again, it 
 would be found that the very Convocation, 
 which received and confirmed the 39 Articles, 
 also enjoined by Canon that 'preachers should 
 be careful, that they should never teach aught 
 in a sermon, to be religiously held and believed 
 by the people, except that which is agreeable 
 to the doctrine of the Old and New Testament, 
 and which the Catholic Fathers and ancient Bishops 
 have collected from that very doctrine.' Here, 
 let it be observed, an appeal is made by the 
 
1833 to 1839 97 
 
 Convocation imponens to the very same ancient 
 authorities, as had been mentioned with such 
 profound veneration by the writers of the Ho- 
 milies and of the Articles, and thus, if the 
 Homilies contained views of doctrine which now 
 would be called Roman, there seemed to me 
 to be an extreme probability that the Convo- 
 cation of 1571 also countenanced and received, 
 or at least did not reject, those doctrines. 
 
 6. And further, when at length I came ac- 
 tually to look into the text of the Articles, I 
 saw in many cases a patent fulfilment of all 
 that I had surmised as to their vagueness and 
 indecisiveness, and that, not only on questions 
 which lay between Lutherans, Calvinists, and 
 Zwinglians, but on Catholic questions also; and 
 I have noticed them in my Tract. In the con- 
 clusion of my Tract I observe : 
 
 They are evidently framed on the principle of leaving 
 open large questions on which the controversy hinges. 
 They state broadly extreme truths, and are silent about 
 their adjustment. For instance, they say that all necessary 
 faith must be proved from Scripture ; but do not say who 
 is to prove it. They say, that the Church has authority 
 in controversies; they do not say what authority. They 
 say that it may enforce nothing beyond Scripture, but do 
 not say where the remedy lies when it does. They say 
 that works before grace and justification are worthless 
 and worse, and that works after grace and justification 
 are acceptable, but they do not speak at all of- works 
 with God's aid before justification. They say that men 
 are lawfully called, and sent to minister and preach, who 
 are chosen and called by men who have public authority 
 given them in the Congregation; but they do not add 
 by whom the authority is to be given. They say that 
 Councils called by Princes may err; they do not determine 
 whether Councils called in the name of Christ may err. 
 
 Such were the considerations which weighed 
 with me in my inquiry how far the Articles were 
 
 7 
 
98 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 tolerant of a Catholic, or even a Roman inter- 
 pretation ; and such was the defence which I 
 made in my Tract for having attempted it. 
 From what I have already said, it will appear 
 that I have no need or intention at this day 
 to maintain every particular interpretation which 
 I suggested in the course of my Tract, nor 
 indeed had I then. Whether it was prudent 
 or not, whether it was sensible or not, any 
 how I attempted only a first essay of a necessary 
 work, an essay which, as I was quite prepared 
 to find, would require revision and modification 
 by means of the lights which I should gain 
 from the criticism of others. I should have 
 gladly withdrawn any statement which could 
 be proved to me to be erroneous ; I considered 
 my work to be faulty and objectionable in the 
 same sense in which I now consider my Anglican 
 interpretations of Scripture to be erroneous, but 
 in no other sense. I am surprised that men do 
 not apply to the interpreters of Scripture gen- 
 erally the hard names which they apply to the 
 author of Tract 90. He held a large system 
 of theology, and applied it to the Articles : 
 Episcopalians, or Lutherans, or Presbyterians, 
 or Unitarians, hold a large system of theology 
 and apply it to Scripture. Every theology has 
 its difficulties ; Protestants hold justification by 
 faith only, though there is no text in St Paul 
 which enunciates it, and though St James ex- 
 pressly denies it ; do we therefore call Protestants, 
 dishonest? They deny that the Church has a divine 
 mission, though St Paul says, that it is 'the 
 pillar and ground of Truth ' ; they keep the Sab- 
 bath, though St Paul says: ' Let no man judge 
 you in meat, or drink, or in respect of . . . the 
 
1833 to 1839 99 
 
 sabbath days.' Every creed has texts in its 
 favour, and, again, texts which run counter to 
 it ; and this is generally confessed. And this 
 is what I felt keenly: how had I done worse 
 in Tract 90 than Anglicans, Wesleyans, and 
 Calvinists did daily in their sermons and their 
 publications? How had I done worse than the 
 Evangelical party in their ex animo reception of 
 the Services for Baptism and Visitation of the 
 Sick * ? Why was I to be dishonest and they 
 immaculate? There was an occasion on which 
 our Lord gave an answer, which seemed to be 
 appropriate to my own case, when the tumult 
 broke out against my Tract: 'He that is with- 
 out sin among you, let him first cast a stone 
 at him.' I could have fancied that a sense of 
 their own difficulties of interpretation would 
 
 * For instance, let candid men consider the form of 
 Absolution contained in that Prayer Book, of which all 
 clergymen, Evangelical and Liberal, as well as High Church, 
 and (I think) all persons in University office declare, that 
 'it containeth nothing contrary to the Word of God' I 
 challenge, in the sight of all England, Evangelical clergy- 
 men generally, to put on paper an interpretation of this 
 form of words, consistent with their sentiments, which 
 shall be less forced than the most objectionable of the 
 interpretations which Tract 90 puts upon any passage in 
 the Articles. 
 
 4 Our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath left power to His 
 Church to absolve all sinners who truly repent and believe 
 in Him, of His great mercy forgive thee thine offences; 
 and by His authority committed to me, I absolve thee from 
 all thy sins, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, 
 and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.' 
 
 I subjoin the Eoman form, as used in England and 
 elsewhere: 'Dominus noster Jesus Christus te absolvat; 
 et ego auctoritate ipsius te absolvo, ab omni vinculo ex- 
 communicationis et interdicti, in quantum possum et tu 
 indiges. " Deinde ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis, in nomine 
 Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.' 
 
100 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 have persuaded the great party I have men- 
 tioned to some prudence, or at least moderation, 
 in opposing a teacher of an opposite school. 
 But I suppose their alarm and their anger over- 
 came their sense of justice. 
 
 In the universal storm of indignation with 
 which the Tract was received on its appearance, 
 I recognize much of real religious feeling, much 
 of honest and true principle, much of straight- 
 forward, ignorant common sense. In Oxford 
 there was genuine feeling too; but there had 
 been a smouldering, stern, energetic animosity, 
 not at all unnatural, partly rational, against its 
 author. A false step had been made ; now was 
 the time for action. I am told, that, even be- 
 fore the publication of the Tract, rumours of 
 its contents had got into the hostile camp in 
 an exaggerated form; and not a moment was 
 lost in proceeding to action, when I was actu- 
 ally in the hands of the Philistines. I was 
 quite unprepared for the outbreak, and was 
 starled at its violence. I do not think I had 
 any fear. Nay, I will add, I am not sure that 
 it was not in one point of view a relief to me. 
 
 I saw, indeed, clearly, that my place in the Move- 
 ment was lost ; public confidence was at an end ; 
 my occupation was gone. It was simply an im- 
 possibility, that I could say anything henceforth 
 to good effect, when I had been posted up by 
 the marshal on the buttery hatch of every 
 College of my University, after the manner of 
 discommoned pastry-cooks, and when in every 
 part of the country, and every class of society, 
 through every organ and occasion of opinion, 
 in newspapers, in periodicals, at meetings, in 
 
1833 to 1839 101 
 
 pulpits, at dinner-tables, in c3ifee.-reo.ms-, tin ial- 
 way carriages, I was denounced as a traitor who 
 had laid his train and was detected in the very 
 act of firing it against the time-honoured Estab- 
 lishment. There were indeed men, besides my 
 own friends, men of name and position, who 
 gallantly took my part, as Dr Hook, Mr Palmer, 
 and Mr Perceval : it must have been a grievous 
 trial for themselves; yet what, after all, could 
 they do for me? Confidence in me was lost — 
 but I had already lost full confidence in myself. 
 Thoughts had passed over me, a year and a half 
 before, which for the time had profoundly troubled 
 me. They had gone: I had not less confidence 
 in the power and the prospects of the Apostolical 
 movement than before ; not less confidence than 
 before in the grievousness of what I called the 
 ' dominant errors ' of Rome : but how was I any 
 more to have absolute confidence in myself? 
 How was I to have confidence in my present 
 confidence? How was I to be sure that I 
 should always think as I thought now? I felt 
 that by this event a kind Providence had 
 saved me from an impossible position in the 
 future. 
 
 First, if I remember right, they wished me 
 to withdraw the Tract. This I refused to do: 
 I would not do so, for the sake of those who 
 were unsettled, or in danger of unsettlement. 
 I would not do so for my own sake ; for how 
 could I acquiesce in a mere Protestant inter- 
 pretation of the Articles? How could I range 
 myself among the professors of a theology, of 
 which it put my teeth on edge even to hear 
 the sound ? 
 
102 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 ' Next they .said: f Keep silence; do not defend 
 the Tract'; I answered: f Yes, if you will not 
 condemn it — if you will allow it to continue 
 on sale'. They pressed on me whenever I gave 
 way ; they fell back when they saw me obstinate. 
 Their line of action was to get out of me as 
 much as they could; but upon the point of 
 their tolerating the Tract I was obstinate. So 
 they let me continue it on sale ; and they said 
 they would not condemn it. But they said 
 that this was on condition that I did not defend 
 it, that I stopped the series, and that I myself 
 published my own condemnation in a letter to 
 the Bishop of Oxford. I impute nothing what- 
 ever to him, he was ever most kind to me. 
 Also, they said they could not answer for what 
 individual bishops might perhaps say about 
 the Tract in their own charges. I agreed to 
 their conditions. My one point was to save 
 the Tract 
 
 Not a scrap of writing was given me as a 
 pledge of the performance of their side of 
 the engagement. Parts of letters from them 
 were read to me without being put into my 
 hands. It was an € understanding'. A clever 
 man had warned me against 'understandings' 
 some six years before, I have hated them 
 ever since. 
 
 In the last words of my letter to the Bishop 
 of Oxford I thus resigned my place in the 
 Movement : 
 
 I have nothing to be sorry for (I say to him) except 
 having made your Lordship anxious, and others whom I 
 am bound to revere. Y have nothing to be sorry for, 
 but every thing to rejoice in, and be thankful for. I 
 have never taken pleasure in seeming to be able to move 
 
1833 to 1839 103 
 
 a party, and whatever influence I have had, has been 
 found, not sought after. I have acted because others 
 did not act, and have sacrificed a quiet which I prized. 
 May God be with me in time to come, as He has been 
 hitherto! and He will be, if I can but keep my hand 
 clean and my heart pure. I think I can bear, or at least 
 will try to bear, any personal humiliation, so that I am 
 preserved from betraying sacred interests, which the 
 Lord of grace and power has given into my charge. 
 
HISTORY OF MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 1839 TO 1841 
 
 And now that I am about to trace, as far as I 
 can, the course of that great revolution of mind, 
 which led me to leave my own home, to which 
 I was bound by so many strong and tender ties, 
 I feel overcome with the difficulty of satisfying 
 myself in my account of it, and have recoiled 
 from doing so, till the near approach of the 
 day on which these lines must be given to the 
 world forces me to set about the task. For 
 who can know himself, and the multitude of 
 subtle influences which act upon him ? and who 
 can recollect, at the distance of twenty-five 
 years, all that he once knew about his thoughts 
 and his deeds, and that, during a portion of 
 his life, when, even at the time, his observation, 
 whether of himself or the external world, was 
 less than before or after, by very reason of the 
 perplexity and dismay which weighed upon him 
 — when, though it would be most unthankful 
 to seem to imply that he had not all-suffiient 
 light amid his darkness, yet a darkness it emphat- 
 ically was ? And who can gird himself suddenly 
 to a new and anxious undertaking, which he 
 might be able indeed to perform well, had he 
 full and calm leisure to look through everything 
 that he has written, whether in published works 
 or private letters? but, on the other hand, as 
 
1839 to 1841 105 
 
 to that calm contemplation of the past, in itself 
 so desirable, who can afford to be leisurely and 
 deliberate, while he practises on himself a cruel 
 operation, the ripping up of old griefs, and the 
 venturing again upon the infandum dolorem of 
 years, in which the stars of this lower heaven 
 were one by one going out? I could not in 
 cool blood, nor except upon the imperious call 
 of duty, attempt what I have set myself to do. 
 It is, both to head and heart, an extreme trial 
 thus to analyze what has so long gone by, and 
 to bring out the results of that examination. 
 I have done various bold things in my life ; this 
 is the boldest; and, were I not sure I should 
 after all succeed in my object, it would be 
 madness to set about it. 
 
 In the spring of 1839 my position in the An- < 
 glican Church was at its height. I had supreme 
 confidence in my controversial status, and I had 
 a great and still growing success in recommend- 
 ing it to others. I had in the foregoing 
 autumn been somewhat sore at the Bishop's 
 Charge, but I have a letter which shows that 
 all annoyance had passed from my mind. In 
 January, if I recollect aright, in order to meet 
 the popular clamour against myself and others, 
 and to satisfy the Bishop, I had collected into one, 
 all the strong things which they, and especially 
 I, had said against the Church of Rome, in 
 order to their insertion among the advertise- 
 ments appended to our publications. Conscious 
 as I was, that my opinions in religion were not 
 gained, as the world said, from Roman sources, 
 but were, on the contrary, the birth of my 
 own mind and of the circumstances in which 
 
106 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 I had been placed, I had a scorn of the imputa- 
 tions which were neaped upon me. It was true 
 that I held a large bold system of religion, very 
 unlike the Protestantism of the day, but it was 
 the concentration and adjustment of the state- 
 ments of great Anglican authorities, and I had 
 as much right to do so, as the Evangelical 
 party had, and more right than the Liberal, to 
 hold their own respective doctrines. As I spoke 
 on occasion of Tract 90, I claimed, in behalf 
 of who would, that he might hold in the An- 
 glican Church a comprecation with the Saints 
 with Bramhall, and the Mass, all but Transub- 
 stantiation, with Andrewes ; or with Hooker, that 
 Transubstantiation itself is not a point for Churches 
 to part communion upon, or with Hammond, that 
 a General Council, truly such, never did, never 
 shall, err in a matter of faith, or with Bull, that 
 man lost inward grace by the fall, or with Thorn- 
 dike that penance is a propitiation for post- 
 baptismal sin, or with Pearson that the all- 
 powerful name of Jesus is no otherwise given 
 than in the Catholic Church. 'Two can play 
 at that', was often in my mouth, when men 
 of Protestant sentiments appealed to the Articles, 
 Homilies, or Reformers; in the sense that, if 
 they had a right to speak loud, I had both the 
 liberty and the means of giving them tit for tat. 
 I thought that the Anglican Church had been 
 tyrannized over by a party, and I aimed at 
 bringing into effect the promise contained in 
 the motto to the Lym 'They shall know the 
 difference now.' I only asked to be allowed 
 to show them the difference. 
 
 What will best describe my state of mind, at 
 the early part of 1839, is an article in The 
 
1839 to 1841 107 
 
 British Critic for that April. I have looked over 
 it now, for the first time since it was published ; 
 and have been struck by it for this reason: it 
 contains the last words which I ever spoke as 
 an Anglican to Anglicans. It may now be read 
 as my parting address and valediction, made to 
 my friends. I little knew it at the time. It 
 reviews the actual state of things, and it ends 
 by looking towards the future. It is not alto- 
 gether mine ; for my memory goes to this — that 
 I had asked a friend to do the work ; that then 
 the thought came on me that I would do it 
 myself; and that he was good enough to put 
 into my hands what he had with great appo- 
 siteness written, and I embodied it into my 
 article. Every one, I think, will recognize the 
 greater part of it as mine. It was published 
 two years before the affair of Tract 90, and was 
 entitled, The State of Religious Parties. 
 
 In this article I begin by bringing together 
 testimonies from our enemies to the remarkable 
 success of our exertions. One writer said : ' Opin- 
 ions and views of a theology of a very marked 
 and peculiar kind have been extensively adopted 
 and strenuously upheld, and are daily gaining 
 ground among a considerable and influential 
 portion of the members, as well as ministers of 
 the Established Church.' Another: e The Move- 
 ment has manifested itself with the most rapid 
 growth of the hot-bed of these evil days.' An- 
 other: f The Via Media is crowded with young 
 enthusiasts, who never presume to argue except 
 against the propriety of arguing at all.' Another: 
 ' Were I to give you a full list of the works, which 
 they have produced within the short space of five 
 years, I should surprise you. You would see what 
 
108 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 a task it would be to make yourself complete 
 master of their system, even in its present pro- 
 bably immature state. The writers have adopted 
 the motto, u In quietness and confidence shall be 
 your strength". With regard to confidence, they 
 have justified their adopting it; but as to quiet- 
 ness, it is not very quiet to pour forth such a 
 succession of controversial publications/ Another : 
 f The spread of these doctrines is in fact now 
 having the effect of rendering all other distinctions 
 obsolete, and of severing the religious community 
 into two portions, fundamentally and vehemently 
 opposed one to the other. Soon there will be no 
 middle ground left ; and every man, and especially 
 every clergyman, will be compelled to make his 
 choice between the two.' Another: 'The time 
 has gone by when those unfortunate and deeply 
 regretted publications can be passed over with- 
 out notice, and the hope that their influence 
 would fail is now dead.' Another: ' These doc- 
 trines had already made fearful progress. One 
 of the largest churches in Brighton is crowded 
 to hear them ; so is the church at Leeds. There 
 are few towns of note to which they have not 
 extended. They are preached in small towns 
 in Scotland. They obtain in Elginshire, 600 
 miles north of London. I found them myself 
 in the heart of the highlands of Scotland. They 
 are advocated in the newspaper and periodical 
 press. They have even insinuated themselves 
 into the House of Commons.' And, lastly, a 
 bishop in a Charge : It ' is daily assuming a 
 more serious and alarming aspect. Under the 
 specious pretence of deference to antiquity and 
 respect for primitive models, the foundations of 
 the Protestant Church are undermined by men, 
 
1839 to 1841 109 
 
 who dwell within her walls, and those who sit 
 in the Reformers' seat are traducing the Reform- 
 ation/ 
 
 After thus stating the phenomenon of the time, 
 as it presented itself to those who did not sym- 
 pathize in it, the article proceeds to account 
 for it; and this it does by considering it is a 
 reaction from the dry and superficial character 
 of the religious teaching and the literature of 
 the last generation, or century, and as a result of 
 the need which was felt both by the hearts and 
 the intellects of the nation for a deeper philo- 
 sophy, and as the evidence, and as the partial 
 fulfilment of that need to which even the chief 
 authors of the then generation had borne witness. 
 First, I mentioned the literary influence of 
 Walter Scott, who turned men's minds to the 
 direction of the middle ages. 'The general 
 need', I said, 'of something deeper and more 
 attractive, than what had offered itself elsewhere, 
 may be considered to have led to his popularity ; 
 and by means of his popularity he re-acted on 
 his readers, stimulating their mental thirst, feed- 
 ing their hopes, setting before them visions, 
 which, when once seen, are not easily forgotten, 
 and silently indoctrinating them with nobler 
 ideas, which might afterwards be appealed to 
 as first principles.' 
 
 Then I spoke of Coleridge, thus : ' While 
 history in prose and verse was thus made the 
 instrument of Church feelings and opinions, a 
 philosophical basis for the same was laid in 
 England by a very original thinker, who, while 
 he indulged a liberty of speculation, which no 
 Christian can tolerate, and advocated conclusions 
 which were often heathen rather than Christian, 
 
110 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 yet, after all, instilled a higher philosophy into 
 inquiring minds than they had hitherto been 
 accustomed to accept. In this way he made 
 trial of his age, and succeeded in interesting its 
 genius in the cause of Catholic truth.' 
 
 Then come Southey and Wordsworth, 'two 
 living poets, one of whom in the department 
 of fantastic fiction, the other in that of philo- 
 sophical meditation, have addresed themselves 
 to the same high principles and feelings, and 
 carried forward their readers in the same direction.' 
 
 Then comes the prediction of this reaction, 
 hazarded by f a sagacious observer withdrawn 
 from the world, and surveying its movements 
 from a distance ', Mr Alexander Knox. He had 
 said twenty years before the date of my writing : 
 c No Church on earth has more intrinsic excellence 
 than the English Church, yet no Church prob- 
 ably has less practical influence. . . . The rich 
 provision made by the grace and providence of 
 God for habits of a noble kind, is evidence 
 that men shall arise, fitted both by nature and 
 ability to discover for themselves and to display 
 to others whatever yet remains undiscovered, 
 whether in the words or works of God.' Also I 
 referred to 'a. much venerated clergyman of 
 the last generation', who said, shortly before 
 his death, ' Depend on it, the day will come, 
 when those great doctrines, now buried, will be 
 brought out to the light of day, and then the 
 effect will be fearful.' I remarked upon this, 
 that they who 'now blame the impetuosity of 
 the current, should rather turn their animad- 
 versions upon those who have damned up a 
 majestic river, till it had become a flood.' 
 
 These being the circumstances under which 
 
1839 to 1841 111 
 
 the Movement began and progressed, it was 
 absurd to refer it to the act of two or three 
 individuals. It was not so much a movement 
 as a ' spirit afloat ' ; it was within us, ' rising 
 up in hearts where it was least suspected, and 
 working itself, though not in secret, yet so 
 subtly and impalpably, as hardly to admit of 
 precaution or encounter on any ordinary human 
 rules of opposition. It is', I continued, 'an 
 adversary in the air, a something one and entire, 
 a whole wherever it is, unapproachable and 
 incapable of being grasped, as being the result 
 of causes far deeper than political or other visible 
 agencies, the spiritual awakening of spiritual 
 wants/ 
 
 To make this clear, I proceed to refer to the 
 chief preachers of the revived doctrines at that 
 moment, and to draw attention to the variety 
 of their respective antecedents. Dr Hook and 
 Mr Churton represented the high Church dig- 
 nitaries of the last century; Mr Perceval, the 
 Tory aristocracy ; Mr Keble came from a country 
 parsonage ; Mr Palmer from Ireland ; Dr Pusey 
 from the universities of Germany, and the study 
 of Arabic MSS. ; Mr Dodsworth from the study 
 of prophecy ; Mr Oakeley had gained his views, 
 as he himself expressed it, ' partly by study, 
 partly by reflection, partly by conversation with 
 one or two friends, inquirers like himself: ' while 
 I speak of myself as being 'much indebted to 
 the friendship of Archbishop Whateley.' And 
 thus I am led on to ask, ( What head of a sect 
 is there ? What march of opinions can be traced 
 from mind to mind among preachers such as 
 these? They are one and all in their degree 
 the organs of one Sentiment, which has risen 
 
112 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 up simultaneously in many places very mys- 
 teriously.' 
 
 My train of thought next led me to speak 
 of the disciples of the Movement, and I freely 
 acknowledged and lamented that they needed 
 to be kept in order. It is very much to the 
 purpose to draw attention to this point now, 
 when such extravagances as then occurred, what- 
 ever they were, are simply laid to my door, or 
 to the charge of the doctrines which I advocated. 
 A man cannot do more than freely confess what 
 is wrong, say that it need not be, that it ought 
 not to be, and that he is very sorry that it 
 should be. Now I said in the article, which I 
 am reviewing, that the great truths themselves 
 which we were preaching must not be condemned 
 on account of such abuse of them. ( Aberrations 
 there must ever be, whatever the doctrine is, 
 while the human heart is sensitive, capricious, 
 and wayward. A mixed multitude went out of 
 Egypt with the Israelites.' c There will ever be 
 a number of persons', I continued, e professing 
 the opinions of a movement party, who talk 
 loudly and strangely, do odd or fierce things, 
 display themselves unnecessarily, and disgust 
 other people ; persons, too young to be wise, 
 too generous to be cautious, too warm to be 
 sober, or too intellectual to be humble. Such 
 persons will be very apt to attach themselves 
 to particular persons, to use particular names, 
 to say things merely because others do, and to 
 act in a party-spirited way.' 
 
 While I thus republish what I then said about 
 such extravagances as occurred in these years, 
 at the same time I have a very strong convic- 
 tion that they furnished quite as much the 
 
1839 to 1841 113 
 
 welcome excuse for those who were jealous or 
 shy of us, as the stumbling-blocks of those who 
 were well inclined to our doctrines. This too 
 we felt at the time; but it was our duty to 
 see that our good should not be evil-spoken of; 
 and accordingly, two or three of the writers of 
 the Tracts for the Times had commenced a Series 
 of what they called Plain Sermons, with the 
 avowed purpose of discouraging and correcting 
 whatever was uppish or extreme in our followers : 
 to this Series I contributed a volume myself. 
 Its conductors say in their Preface: 
 
 If therefore, as -time goes on, there shall be found per- 
 sons, who admiring the innate beauty and majesty of 
 the fuller system of Primitive Christianity, and seeing 
 the transcendent strength of its principles, shall become 
 loud and voluble advocates in their behalf, speaking the 
 more freely because they do not feel them deeply as founded 
 in divine and eternal truth, of such persons it is our 
 duty to declare plainly, that, as we should contemplate 
 their condition with serious misgiving, so would they be 
 the last persons from whom we should seek support. 
 
 But if, on the other hand, there shall be any, who, 
 in the silent humility of their lives, and in their unaffected 
 reverence for holy things, show that they in truth accept 
 these principles as real and substantial, and by habitual 
 purity of heart and serenity of temper give proof of their 
 deep veneration for sacraments and sacramental ordinances, 
 those, persons, whether our professed adherents or not, 
 best exemplify the kind of character which the writers 
 of the k Tracts for the Times ' have wished to form. 
 
 These clergymen had the best of claims to use 
 these beautiful words, for they were themselves, 
 all of them, important writers in the Tracts, the 
 two Mr Kebles, and Mr Isaac Williams. And 
 this passage, with which they ushered their 
 Series into the world, I quoted in the article 
 of which I am giving an account, and I added: 
 'What more can be required of the preachers 
 
 8 
 
114 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 of neglected truth, than that they should admit 
 that some who do not assent to their preaching 
 are holier and better men than some who do ? ' 
 They were not answerahle for the intemperance 
 of those who dishonoured a true doctrine, pro- 
 vided they protested, as they did, against such 
 intemperance. ( They were not answerable for 
 the dust and din which attends any great moral 
 movement. The truer doctrines are, the more 
 liable they are to be perverted.' 
 
 The notice of these incidental faults of opinion 
 or temper in adherents of the Movement led on 
 to a discussion of the secondary causes, by means 
 of which a system of doctrine may be embraced, 
 modified, or developed, of the variety of schools 
 which may all be in the One Church, and of 
 the succession of one phase of doctrine to another, 
 while it is ever one and the same. Thus I was 
 brought on to the subject of Antiquity, which 
 was the basis of the doctrine of the Via Media, 
 and by which was not implied a servile imitation 
 of the past, but such a reproduction of it as is 
 really young, while it is old. f We have good 
 hope', I say, 'that a system will be rising up, 
 superior to the age, yet harmonizing with, and 
 carrying out its higher points, which will attract 
 to itself those who are willing to make a venture, 
 and to face difficulties, for the sake of something 
 higher in prospect. On this, as on other subjects, 
 the proverb will apply : "Fortes fortuna adjuvat". 
 
 Lastly, I proceeded to the question of that 
 future of the Anglican Church, which was to 
 be a new birth of the Ancient Religion. And 
 I did not venture to pronounce upon it. ( About 
 the future, We have no prospect before our 
 minds whatever, good or bad. Ever since that 
 
1839 to 1841 115 
 
 great luminary, Augustine, proved to be the 
 last bishop of Hippo, Christians have had a 
 lesson against attempting to foretell, how Prov- 
 idence will prosper and ' (or ?) ' bring to an end, 
 what it begins'. Perhaps the lately-revived 
 principles would prevail in the Anglican Church ; 
 perhaps they would be lost in 'some miserable 
 schism, or some more miserable compromise ' ; 
 but there was nothing rash in venturing to 
 predict, that c neither Puritanism nor Liberalism 
 had any permanent inheritance within her'. 
 I suppose I meant to say, that in the present 
 age, without the aid of Apostolical principles, 
 the Anglican Church would, in the event, cease 
 to exist. 
 
 'As to Liberalism, we think the formularies 
 of the Church will ever, with the aid of a good 
 Providence, keep it from making any serious 
 inroads upon the Clergy. Besides, it is too 
 cold a principle to prevail with the multitude \ 
 But as regarded what was called Evangelical 
 religion or Puritanism, there was more to cause 
 alarm. I observed upon its organization ; but 
 on the other hand it had no intellectual basis ; 
 no internal idea, no principle of unity, no 
 theology. 'Its adherents', I said, 'are already 
 separating from each other; they will melt 
 away like a snow-drift. It has no straight- 
 forward view on any one point on which it 
 professes to teach, and to hide its poverty, it 
 has dressed itself out in a maze of words. We 
 have no dread of it at all; we only fear what 
 it may lead to. It does not stand on intrenched 
 ground, or make any pretence to a position ; 
 it does but occupy the space between contending 
 powers, Catholic Truth and Rationalism. Then 
 
116 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 indeed will be the stern encounter, when two 
 real and living principles, simple, entire, and 
 consistent, one in the Church, the other out of 
 it, at length rush upon each other, contending 
 not for names and words, or half- views, but 
 for elementary notions and distinctive moral 
 characters.' 
 
 Whether the ideas of the coming age upon 
 religion were true or false, they would be real. 
 'In the present day', I said, ( mistiness is the 
 mother of wisdom. A man who can set down 
 half-a-dozen general propositions, which escape 
 from destroying one another only by being diluted 
 into truisms, who can hold the balance between 
 opposites so skilfully as to do without fulcrum 
 or beam, who never enunciates a truth without 
 guarding himself against being supposed to exclude 
 the contradictory — who holds that Scripture is the 
 only authority, yet that the Church is to be de- 
 ferred to, that faith only justifies, yet that it does 
 not justify without works, that grace does not 
 depend on the sacraments, yet is not given with- 
 out them, that bishops are a divine ordinance, 
 yet those who have them not are in the same 
 religious condition as those who have — this is 
 your safe man, and the hope of the Church ; this 
 is what the Church is said to want, not party 
 men, but sensible, temperate, sober, well-judging 
 persons, to guide it through the channel of no- 
 meaning, between the Scylla and Charybdis of 
 Aye and No/ 
 
 This state of things, however, I said, could 
 not last, if men were to read and think. They 
 'will not keep standing in that very attitude 
 which you call sound Church-of-Englandism or 
 orthodox Protestantism. They cannot go on for 
 
1839 to 1841 117 
 
 ever standing on one leg, or sitting without a 
 chair, or walking with their feet tied, or grazing 
 like Tityrus's stags in the air. They will take 
 one view or another, but it will be a consistent 
 view. It may be Liberalism, or Erastianism, or 
 Popery, or Catholicity; but it will be real.' 
 
 I concluded the article by saying, that all 
 who did not wish to be 'democratic, or pantheistic, 
 or popish* must 'look out for some "Via Media" 
 which will preserve us from what threatens, though 
 it cannot restore the dead. The spirit of Luther 
 is dead ; but Hildebrand and Loyola are alive. 
 Is it sensible, sober, judicious, to be so very angry 
 w r ith those writers of the day, who point to the 
 fact, that our divines of the seventeenth century 
 have occupied a ground which is the true and 
 intelligible mean between extremes ? Is it wise 
 to quarrel with this ground, because it is not 
 exactly what we should choose had we the 
 power of choice? Is it true moderation, instead 
 of trying to fortify a middle doctrine, to fling 
 stones at those who do ? . . . Would you rather 
 have your sons and daughters members of 
 the Church of England or of the Church of 
 Rome ?' 
 
 And thus I left the matter. But, while I was 
 thus speaking of the future of the Movement, I 
 was, in truth, winding up my accounts with it, 
 little dreaming that it was so to be; while I 
 was still, in some way or other, feeling about 
 for an available Via Media, I was soon to receive 
 a shock which was to cast out of my imagina- 
 tion all middle courses and compromises for ever. 
 As I have said, this article appeared in the April 
 number of The British Critic ; in the July number, 
 I cannot tell why, there is no article of mine ; 
 
118 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 before the number for October, the event had 
 happened to which I have alluded. 
 
 Bnt before I proceed to describe what hap- 
 pened to me in the summer of 1839, I must 
 detain the reader for a while, in order to describe 
 the issue of the controversy between Rome and 
 the Anglican Church, as I viewed it. This will 
 involve some dry discussion ; but it is as neces- 
 sary for my narrative, as plans of buildings and 
 homesteads are often found to be in the pro- 
 ceedings of our law courts. 
 
 I have said already that, though the object 
 of the Movement was to withstand the Liber- 
 alism of the day, I found and felt this could 
 not be done by mere negatives. It was necess- 
 ary for us to have a positive Church theory 
 erected on a definite basis. This took me to 
 the great Anglican divines ; and then, of course, 
 I found at once that it was impossible to form 
 any such theory without cutting across the 
 teaching of the Church of Rome. Thus came in 
 the Roman controversy. 
 
 When I first turned myself to it, 1 had neither 
 doubt on the subject, nor suspicion that doubt 
 would ever come upon me. It was in this state 
 of mind that I began to read up Bellarmine on 
 the one hand, and numberless Anglican writers 
 on the other. But I soon found, as others had 
 found before me, that it was a tangled and 
 manifold controversy, difficult to master, more 
 difficult to put out of hand with neatness and 
 precision. It was easy to make points, not easy 
 to sum up and settle. It was not easy to find 
 a clear issue for the dispute, and still less by 
 a logical process to decide it in favour of Angli- 
 
1839 to 1841 119 
 
 canism. This difficult y, however, had no ten- 
 dency whatever to harass or perplex me : it was 
 a matter, not of convictions, but of proofs. 
 
 First, I saw, as all see who study the subject, 
 that a broad distinction had to be drawn between 
 the actual state of belief and of usage in the 
 countries which were in communion with the 
 Roman Church, and her formal dogmas ; the 
 latter did not cover the former. Sensible pain, 
 for instance, is not implied in the Tridentine 
 decree upon Purgatory ; but it was the tradition 
 of the Latin Church, and I had seen the pictures 
 of souls in flames in the streets of Naples. Bishop 
 Lloyd had brought this distinction out strongly 
 in an article in The British Critic in 1825; in- 
 deed, it was one of the most common objections 
 made to the Church of Rome, that she daredi 
 not commit herself by formal decree to what! 
 nevertheless she sanctioned and allowed. Ac-| 
 cordingly, in my Prophetical Office, I view as 
 simply separate ideas, Rome quiescent, and 
 Rome in action. I contrasted her creed, on the 
 one hand, with her ordinary teaching, her con- 
 troversial tone, her political and social bearing, 
 and her popular beliefs and practices on the other. 
 
 While I made this distinction between the 
 decrees and the traditions of Rome, I drew a 
 parallel distinction between Anglicanism qui- 
 escent, and Anglicanism in action. In its formal 
 creed Anglicanism was not at a great distance 
 from Rome : far otherwise, when viewed in its 
 insular spirit, the traditions of its establishment, 
 its historical characteristics, its controversial 
 rancour, and its private judgment. I disavowed 
 and condemned those excesses, and called them 
 6 Protestantism' or c Ultra- Protestantism ' : I wish- 
 
120 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 ed to find a parallel disclaimer, on the part of 
 Roman controversialists, of that popular system 
 of beliefs and usages in their own Church which 
 
 il called c Popery \ When that hope was a dream, 
 I saw that the controversy lay between the 
 book-theology of Anglicanism on the one side, 
 and the living system of what I called Roman 
 corruption on the other. I could not get further 
 than this; with this result I was forced to 
 content myself. 
 
 These then were the parties in the controversy : 
 the Anglican Via Media and the popular religion 
 of Rome. And next, as to the issue, to which 
 the controversy between them was to be brought, 
 Hi was this: — the Anglican disputant took his 
 stand upon Antiquity or Apostolicity, the Roman 
 upon Catholicity. The Anglican said to the 
 Roman: ' There is but One Faith, the Ancient, 
 and you have not kept to it ' ; the Roman 
 retorted: ' There is but One Church, the 
 Catholic, and you are out of it*. The Anglican 
 urged : c Your special beliefs, practices, modes 
 of action, are nowhere in Antiquity ' ; the Roman 
 objected: 'You do not communicate with any 
 one Church besides your own and its offshoots, 
 and you have discarded principles, doctrines, 
 sacraments, and usages, which are, and ever have 
 been, received in the East and the West*. The 
 true Church, as denned in the Creeds, was both 
 Catholic and Apostolic; now, as I viewed the 
 controversy in which I was engaged, England 
 and Rome had divided these notes or prerog- 
 atives between them: the cause lay thus, 
 Apostolicity versus Catholicity. 
 
 However, in thus stating the matter, of course 
 I do not wish it supposed, that I considered 
 
1839 to L841 121 
 
 the note of Catholicity really to belong to Rome, 
 to the disparagement of the Anglican Church ; 
 but that the special point or plea of Rome in 
 the controversy was Catholicity, as the Anglican 
 plea was Antiquity. Of course, I contended 
 that the Roman idea of Catholicity was not 
 ancient and apostolic. It was, in my judgment, 
 at the utmost only natural, becoming, expedient, 
 that the whole of Christendom should be united 
 in one visible body; while such a unity might 
 be, on the other hand, a mere heartless and 
 political combination. For myself, I held with 
 the Anglican divines, that in the Primitive 
 Church there was a very real, mutual inde- 
 pendence between its separate parts, though, 
 from a dictate of charity, there was in fact a 
 close union between them. I considered, that 
 each see and diocese might be compared to a 
 crystal, and that each was similar to the rest, 
 and that the sum total of them all was only a 
 collection of crystals. The unity of the Church 
 lay, not in its being a polity, but in its being 
 a family, a race coming down by apostolical 
 descent from its first founders and bishops. And 
 I considered this truth brought out beyond the 
 possibility of dispute in the Epistles of St. 
 Ignatius, in which the bishop is represented as 
 the one supreme authority in the Church, that 
 is, in his own place, with no one above him, 
 except as, for the sake of ecclesiastical order 
 and expedience, arrangements had been made 
 by which one was put over or under another. 
 So much for our own claim to Catholicity, which 
 was so perversely appropriated by our opponents 
 to themselves: on the other hand, as to our 
 special strong point, Antiquity, while of course, 
 
122 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 by means of it, we were able to condemn most 
 emphatically the novel claim of Rome to domineer 
 over other Churches, which were in truth her 
 equals ; further than that we thereby especially 
 convicted her of the intolerable offence of 
 having added to the Faith. This was the critical 
 head of accusation urged against her by the 
 Anglican disputant, and, as he referred to St. 
 Ignatius in proof that he himself was a true 
 Catholic in spite of being separated from Rome, 
 so he triumphantly referred to the Treatise of 
 Vincentius of Lerins upon the 'Quod semper, 
 quod ubique, quod ab omnibus', in proof that 
 the controversialists of Rome were separated in 
 their creed from the Apostolical and primi- 
 tive faith. 
 
 Of course those controversialists had their own 
 answer to him, with which I am not concerned 
 in this place ; here I am only concerned with 
 the issue itself, between the one party and the 
 other — Antiquity versus Catholicity. 
 
 Now I will proceed to illustrate what I have 
 been saying of the status of the controversy, as 
 it presented itself to my mind, by extracts from 
 my writings of the dates of 1836, 1840, and 
 1841. And I introduce them with a remark, 
 which especially applies to the paper from 
 which I shall quote first, of the date of 1836. 
 That paper appeared in the March and April 
 numbers of The British Magazine of that year, 
 and was entitled, Home Thoughts Abroad. Now 
 it will be found, that, in the discussion which 
 it contains, as in various other writings of mine 
 when I was in the Anglican Church, the argu- 
 ment in behalf of Rome is stated with consider- 
 able perspicuity and force. And at the time 
 
1839 to 1841 123 
 
 my friends and supporters cried out, ' How im- 
 prudent ' ! — and both at the time, and especially 
 at a later date, my enemies have cried out, e How 
 insidious ' ! Friends and foes virtually agreed in 
 their criticism ; I had set out the cause which I 
 was combating to the best advantage : this was an 
 offence; it might be from imprudence, it might 
 be with a traitorous design. It was from neither 
 the one nor the other; but for the following 
 reasons. First, I had a great impatience, what- 
 ever was the subject, of not bringing out the 
 whole of it as clearly as I could ; next I wished 
 to be as fair to my adversaries as possible ; and, 
 thirdly, I thought that there was a great deal 
 of shallowness among our own friends, and that 
 they undervalued the strength of the argument 
 in behalf of Rome, and that they ought to be 
 roused to a more exact apprehension of the 
 position of the conti*oversy. At a later date 
 (1841) when I really felt the force of the Roman 
 side of the question myself as a difficulty which 
 had to be met, I had a fourth reason for such 
 frankness in argument, and that was, because 
 a number of persons were unsettled far more 
 than I was, as to the Catholicity of the Anglican 
 Church. It was quite plain, that, unless I was 
 perfectly candid in stating what could be said 
 against it, there was no chance that any repre- 
 sentations which I felt to be in its favour, or 
 at least to be adverse to Rome, would have 
 had their real weight duly acknowledged. At 
 all times I had a deep conviction, to put the 
 matter on the lowest ground, that ' honesty 
 was the best policy.' Accordingly, in 1841, I 
 expressed myself thus on the Anglican difficulty : 
 f This is an objection which we must honestly 
 
124 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 say is deeply felt by many people, and not in- 
 considerable ones; and the more it is openly 
 avowed to be a difficulty, the better; for there 
 is then the chance of its being acknowledged, 
 and in the course of time obviated, as far as 
 may be, by those who have the power. Flagrant 
 evils cure themselves by being flagrant ; and we 
 are sanguine that the time is come when so 
 great an evil as this is cannot stand its ground 
 against the good feeling and common sense of 
 religious persons. It is the very strength of 
 Romanism against us ; and, unless the proper 
 persons take it into their serious consideration, 
 they may look for certain to undergo the loss, 
 as time goes on, of some whom they would 
 least like to be lost to our Church/ The mea- 
 sure which I had especially in view in this 
 passage was the project of a Jerusalem Bishopric, 
 which the then Archbishop of Canterbury was 
 at that time concocting with M. Bunsen, and 
 of which I shall speak more in the sequel. And 
 now to return to the Home Thoughts Abroad of 
 the spring of 1836: 
 
 The discussion contained in this composition 
 runs in the form of a dialogue. One of the dis- 
 putants says : ' You say to me that the Church 
 of Rome is corrupt. What then? to cut off a 
 limb is a strange way of saving it from the 
 influence of some constitutional ailment. Indigest- 
 ion may cause cramp in the extremities ; yet we 
 spare our poor feet notwithstanding. Surely 
 there is such a religious jact as the existence 
 of a great Catholic body, union with which is 
 a Christian privilege and duty. Now, we English 
 are separate from it.' 
 
 The other answers; 'The present is an un- 
 
1839 to 1841 125 
 
 satisfactory, miserable state of things, yet I can 
 grant no more. The Church is founded on a 
 doctrine — on the gospel of Truth ; it is a means 
 to an end. Perish the Church (though, blessed 
 be the promise ! this cannot be) yet let it perish 
 rather than the Truth should fail. Purity of faith 
 is more precious to the Christian than unity itself. 
 If Rome has erred grievously in doctrine, then 
 it is a duty to separate even from Rome.' 
 
 His friend, who takes the Roman side of the 
 argument, refers to the image of the vine and its 
 branches, which is found, I think, in St Cyprian, 
 as if a branch cut from the Catholic vine must 
 necessarily die. Also he quotes a passage from 
 St Augustine, in controversy with the Donatists, 
 to the same effect, viz., that, as being separated 
 from the body of the Church, they were ipso 
 facto cut off from the heritage of Christ. And 
 he quotes St Cyril's argument, drawn from the 
 very title Catholic, which no body or communion 
 of men has ever dared, or been able to appropriate, 
 besides one. He adds, 'Now, I am only contending 
 for the fact, that the communion of Rome con- 
 stitutes the main body of the Church Catholic, 
 and that we are split off from it, and in the 
 condition of the Donatists.' 
 
 The other replies by denying the fact that the 
 present Roman communion is like St Augustine's 
 Catholic Church, inasmuch as there are to be 
 taken into account the large Anglican and Greek 
 communions. Presently he takes the offensive, 
 naming distinctly the points in which Rome has 
 departed from Primitive Christianity, viz., 'the 
 practical idolatry, the virtual worship of the 
 Virgin and Saints, which are the offence of the 
 Latin Church, and the degradation of moral truth 
 
126 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 and duty, which follows from these/ And again : 
 ( We cannot join a Church, did we wish it ever so 
 much, which does not acknowledge our orders, 
 refuses us the Cup, demands our acquiescence 
 in image-worship, and excommunicates us, if we 
 do not receive it and all other decisions of the 
 Tridentine Council.' 
 
 His opponent answers these objections by re- 
 ferring to the doctrine of c developments of Gospel 
 truth'. Besides, ' The Anglican system itself is 
 not found complete in those early centuries; so 
 that the (Anglican) principle (of Antiquity) is self- 
 destructive.' 'When a man takes up this Via 
 Media, he is a mere doctrinaire ' ; he is like those 
 'who, in some matter of business, start up to 
 suggest their own little crotchet, and are ever 
 measuring mountains with a pocket ruler, or im- 
 proving the planetary courses'. 'The Via Media 
 has slept in libraries ; it is a substitute of infancy 
 for manhood.' 
 
 It is plain, then, that at the end of 1835, or 
 beginning of 1836, I had the whole state of the 
 question before me, on which, to my mind, the 
 decision between the Churches depended. It is 
 observable that the question of the position of 
 the Pope, whether as the centre of unity, or 
 as the source of jurisdiction, did not come into 
 my thoughts at all ; nor did it, I think I may 
 say, to the end. I doubt whether I ever distinctly 
 held any of his powers to be de jure divino while 
 I was in the Anglican Church ; not that I saw 
 any difficulty in the doctrine ; not that, together 
 with the history of St. Leo, of which I shall 
 speak by and by, the idea of his infallibility 
 did not cross my mind, for it did — but after 
 all, in my view the controversy did not turn 
 
1839 to 1841 127 
 
 upon it; it turned upon the Faith and the 
 Church. This was my issue of the controversy 
 from the beginning to the end. There was a 
 contrariety of claims between the Roman and 
 Anglican religions, and the history of my con- 
 version is simply the process of working it out 
 to a solution. ) In 1838, I illustrated it by the 
 contrast presented to us between the Madonna 
 and Child, and a Calvary. I said that the pecu- 
 liarity of the Anglican theology was this, that 
 it c supposed the Truth to be entirely objective 
 and detached, not' (as the Roman) e lying hid 
 in the bosom of the Church as if one with her, 
 clinging to, and (as it were) lost in her embrace, 
 but as being sole and unapproachable, as on the 
 Cross or at the Resurrection, with the Church close 
 by, but in the background.' 
 
 As I viewed the controversy in 1836 and 1838, 
 so I viewed it in 1840 and 1841. In The British 
 Critic of January 1840, after gradually investi- 
 gating how the matter lies between the Churches 
 by means of a dialogue, I end thus : ' It would 
 seem, that, in the above discussion, each disputant 
 has a strong point ; our strong point is the argu- 
 ment from Primitiveness, that of Romanists from 
 Universality. It is a fact, however it is to be 
 accounted for, that Rome has added to the Creed ; 
 and it is a fact, however we justify ourselves, that 
 we are estranged from the great body of Christians 
 over the world. And each of these two facts is, 
 at first sight, a grave difficulty in the respective 
 systems to which they belong.' Again, ' While 
 Rome, though not deferring to the Fathers, re- 
 cognizes them, and England, not deferring to the 
 large body of the Church, recognizes it, both Rome 
 and England have a point to clear up.' 
 
 ) 
 
128 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 And still more strongly in July, 1841 : 
 'If the Note of schism, on the one hand, lies 
 against England, an antagonist disgrace lies upon 
 Rome, the Note of idolatry. Let us not be mis- 
 taken here ; we are neither accusing Rome of ido- 
 latry, nor ourselves of schism ; we think neither 
 charge tenable; but still the Roman Church prac- 
 tises what is so like idolatry, and the English 
 Church makes much of what is so very like schism, 
 that, without deciding what is the duty of a 
 Roman Catholic towards the Church of England in 
 her present state, we do seriously think that 
 members of the English Church have a pro- 
 vidential direction given them, how to comport 
 themselves towards the Church of Rome, while 
 she is what she is.' 
 
 One remark more about Antiquity and the 
 Via Media. As time went on, without doubting 
 the strength of the Anglican argument from 
 Antiquity, I felt also, that it was not merely 
 our special plea, but our only one. Also I felt 
 that the Via Media, which was to represent it, 
 was to be a sort of remodelled and adapted 
 Antiquity. This I observe both in Home Thoughts 
 Abroad, and in the Article of The British Critic 
 which I have analysed above. But this circum- 
 stance, that after all we must use private judg- 
 ment upon Antiquity, created a sort of distrust 
 of my theory altogether, which in the conclusion 
 of my volume on The Prophetical Office I express 
 thus : ( Now that our discussions draw to a close, 
 the thought with which we entered on the sub- 
 ject is apt to recur, when the excitement of 
 the inquiry has subsided, and weariness has 
 succeeded, that what has been said is but a 
 dream, the wanton exercise, rather than the 
 
1839 to 1841 129 
 
 practical conclusions of the intellect'. And I 
 conclude the paragraph by anticipating a line 
 of thought into which I was, in the event, al- 
 most obliged to take refuge: ( After all', I say, 
 'the Church is ever invisible in its day, and 
 faith only apprehends it.' What was this but to 
 give up the Notes of a visible Church altogether, 
 whether the Catholic Note or the Apostolic? 
 
 The Long Vacation of 1839 began early. 
 There had been a great many visitors to Oxford 
 from Easter to Commemoration; and Dr Pusey 
 and myself had attracted attention, more, I think, 
 than any former year. I had put away from me the 
 controversy with Rome for more than two years. 
 In my Parochial Sermons the subject had never 
 been introduced: there had been nothing for 
 two years, either in my Tracts, or in The British 
 Critic, of a polemical character. I was returning, 
 for the Vacation, to the course of reading which 
 I had many years before chosen as especially 
 my own. I have no reason to suppose that the 
 thoughts of Rome came across my mind at all. 
 About the middle of June, I began to study 
 and master the history of the Monophysites. I 
 was absorbed in the doctrinal question. This 
 was from about June 13th to August 30th. It 
 was during this course of reading, that, for the 
 first time, a doubt came upon me of the tenable- 
 ness of Anglicanism. I recollect, on the 30th of 
 July, mentioning to a friend, whom I had accident- 
 ally met, how remarkable the history was ; but 
 by the end of August I was seriously alarmed. 
 
 I have described in a former work how the his- 
 tory affected me. My stronghold was Antiquity ; 
 now here, in the middle of the fifth century, I 
 
 9 
 
130 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 found, as it seemed to me, Christendom of the 
 sixteenth and the nineteenth centuries reflected. 
 I saw my face in that mirror, and I was a Mono- 
 physite. The Church of the Via Media was in 
 the position of the Oriental communion, Rome 
 was, where she now is ; and the Protestants were 
 the Eutychians. Of all passages of history since 
 history has been, who would have thought of 
 going to the sayings aud doings of old Eutyches, 
 that delirus senex, as (I think) Petavius calls 
 him, and to the enormities of the unprincipled 
 Dioscorus, in order to be converted to Rome ! 
 Now let it be simply understood that I am 
 not writing controversially, but with the one 
 object of relating things as they happened to 
 me in the course of my conversion. With this 
 view I will quote a passage from the account, 
 which I gave in 1850, of my reasonings and 
 feelings in 1839: 
 
 It was difficult to make out how the Eutychians or 
 Monophysites were heretics, unless Protestants and Ang- 
 licans were heretics also; difficult to find arguments 
 against the Tridentine Fathers, which did not tell against 
 the Fathers of Chalcedon; difficult to condemn the Popes 
 of the sixteenth century, without condemning the Popes 
 of the fifth. The drama of religion, and the combat of 
 truth and error, were ever one and the same. The prin- 
 ciples and proceedings of the Church now were those of 
 the Church then; the principles and proceedings of 
 heretics then were those of Protestants now. I found it 
 so— almost fearfully; there was an awful similitude, more 
 awful, because so silent and unimpassioned, between the 
 dead records of the past and the feverish chronicle of 
 the present. The shadow of the fifth century was on the 
 sixteenth. It was like a spirit rising from the troubled 
 waters of the old world with the shape and lineaments 
 of the new. The Church then, as now, might be called 
 peremptory and stern, resolute, overbearing, and relentless; 
 and heretics were shifting, changeable, reserved, and 
 deceitful, ever courting civil power, and never agreeing 
 
1839 to 1841 131 
 
 together, except by its aid ; and the civil power was ever 
 aiming at comprehensions, trying to put the invisible 
 ont of view, and substituting expediency for faith. What 
 was the use of continuing the controversy, or defending 
 my position, if, after all, I was forging arguments for 
 Arius or Eutyches, and turning devil's advocate against 
 the much-enduring Athanasius and the majestic Leo? Be 
 my soul with the Saints! and shall I lift up my hand 
 against them? Sooner may my right hand forget her 
 cunning, and wither outright, as his who once stretched 
 it out against a prophet of God! anathema to a whole 
 tribe of Cranmers, Eidleys, Latimers, and Jewels! perish 
 the names of Bramhall, Ussher, Taylor, Stillingfleet, and 
 Barrow from the face of the earth, ere I should do aught 
 but fall at their feet in love and in worship, whose 
 image was continually before my eyes, and whose musical 
 words were ever in my ears and on my tongue! 
 
 Hardly had I brought my course of reading 
 to a close, when The Dublin Review of that same 
 August was put into my hands by friends who 
 were more favourable to the cause of Rome 
 than I was myself. There was an Article in it 
 on The Anglican Claim by Bishop Wiseman. This 
 was about the middle of September. It was on 
 the Donatists, with an application to Anglicanism. 
 I read it, and did not see much in it. The Do- 
 natist controversy was known to me for some 
 years, as I have instanced above. The case was 
 not parallel to that of the Anglican Church. 
 St Augustine in Africa wrote against the Do- 
 natists in Africa. They were a furious party 
 who made a schism within the African Church, 
 and not beyond its limits. It was a case of 
 Altar against Altar, of two occupants of the 
 same See, as that between the Non-jurors in 
 England and the Established Church; not the 
 case of one Church against another, as Rome 
 against the Oriental Monophysites. But my friend, 
 an anxiously religious man, now, as then, very 
 
16% MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 dear to me, a Protestant still, pointed out the 
 palmary words of St Augustine, which were 
 contained in one of the extracts made in the 
 Review, and which had escaped my observation. 
 'Securus judicat orbis terrarum.' He repeated 
 these words again and again, and, when he was 
 gone, they kept ringing in my ears. 'Securus 
 judicat orbis terrarum ' ; they were words which 
 went beyond the occasion of the Donatists ; they 
 applied to that of the Monophysites. They gave 
 a cogency to the article, which had escaped 
 me at first. They decided ecclesiastical questi- 
 ons on a simpler rule than that of Antiquity ; 
 nay, St Augustine was one of the prime oracles 
 of Antiquity ; here then Antiquity was deciding 
 against itself. What a light was hereby thrown 
 upon every controversy in the Church ! not that, 
 for the moment, the multitude may not falter 
 in their judgment — not that, in the Arian hur- 
 ricane, Sees more than can be numbered did 
 not bend before its fury, and fall off from St 
 Athanasius — not that the crowd of Oriental 
 bishops did not need to be sustained during 
 the contest by the voice and the eye of St Leo ; 
 but that the deliberate judgment, in which the 
 whole Church at length rests and acquiesces, is 
 an infallible prescription and a final sentence 
 against such portions of it as protest and secede. 
 Who can account for the impressions which are 
 made on him ? For a mere sentence, the words 
 of St Augustine struck me with a power which 
 I never had felt from any words before. To take 
 a familiar instance, they were like the 'Turn 
 again Whittington ' of the chime ; or, to take 
 a more serious one, they were like the 'Tolle, 
 lege — Tolle, lege ' of the child, which converted 
 
1839 to 1841 133 
 
 St Augustine himself. 'Securus judicat orbis 
 terrarum ! ' By those great words of the ancient 
 Father the theory of the Via Media was absolutely 
 pulverized. 
 
 I became excited at the view thus opened 
 upon me. I was just starting on a round of 
 visits ; and I mentioned my state of mind to 
 two most intimate friends : I think to no others. 
 After a while, I got calm, and at length the 
 vivid impression upon my imagination faded 
 away. What I thought about it on reflection 
 I will attempt to describe presently. I had to 
 determine its logical value, and its bearing 
 upon my duty. Meanwhile, so far as this was 
 certain — I had seen the shadow of a hand upon 
 the wall. It was clear that I had a good deal 
 to learn on the question of the Churches, and 
 that perhaps some new light was coming upon 
 me. He who has seen a ghost cannot be as 
 if he had never seen it. The heavens had open- 
 ed and closed again. The thought for the mo- 
 ment had been, f The Church of Rome will be 
 found right after all ' ; and then it had vanished. 
 My old convictions remained as before. 
 
 At this time, I wrote my Seivnon on Divine 
 Calls, which I published in my volume of Plain 
 Sermons. It ends thus : 
 
 that we could take that simple view of things, as 
 to feel that the one thing which lies before ns is to 
 please God! What gain is it to please the world, to 
 please the great, nay even to please those whom we love, 
 compared with this? What gain is it to be applauded, 
 admired, courted, followed — compared with this one aim, 
 of 'not being disobedient to a heavenly vision?' What 
 can this world offer comparable with that insight into 
 spiritual things, that keen faith, that heavenly peace, that 
 high sanctity, that everlasting righteousness, that hope of 
 glory which they have, who in sincerity love and follow 
 
134 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 our Lord Jesus Christ? Let us beg and pray Him day 
 by day to reveal Himself to our souls more fully, to 
 quicken our senses, to give us sight and hearing, taste 
 and touch of the world to come; so to work within us, 
 that we may sincerely say, 'Thou shalt guide me with 
 Thy counsel, and after that receive me with glory. Whom 
 have I in heaven but Thee? — and there is none upon earth 
 that I desire in comparison of Thee. My flesh and my 
 heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart, and 
 my portion for ever.' 
 
 Now to trace the succession of thoughts, and 
 the conclusions, and the consequent innovations 
 on my previous belief, and the general conduct, 
 to which I was led upon this sudden visitation. 
 And first, I will say, whatever comes of saying 
 it, for I leave inferences to others, that for 
 years I must have had something of an habitual 
 notion, though it was latent, and had never led 
 me to distrust my own convictions, that my 
 mind had not found its ultimate rest, and that 
 in some sense or other I was on journey. During 
 the same passage across the Mediterranean in 
 which I wrote Lead, kindly light, I also wrote 
 the verses, which are found in the Lyra under 
 the head of ( Providences ', beginning 'When I 
 look back\ This was in 1833; and, since I 
 have begun this narrative, I have found a memor- 
 andum under the date of September 7, 1829, 
 in which I speak of myself, as e now in my rooms 
 in Oriel College, slowly advancing, etc., and led 
 on by God's hand blindly, not knowing whither 
 He is taking me\ But, whatever this presenti- 
 ment be worth, it was no protection against 
 the dismay and disgust, which I felt in conse- 
 quence of the dreadful misgiving of which I 
 have been relating the history. The one question 
 was, what was I to do ? I had to make up my 
 mind for myself, and others could not help me. 
 
1839 to 1841 135 
 
 I determined to be guided, not by my imagin- 
 ation, but by my reason. And this I said, over 
 and over again, in the years which followed, 
 both in conversation and in private letters. Had 
 it not been for this severe resolve, I should 
 have been a Catholic sooner than I was. More- 
 over, I felt on consideration a positive doubt, 
 on the other hand, whether the suggestion did 
 not come from below. Then I said to myself: 
 Time alone can solve that question. It was my 
 business to go on as usual, to obey those con- 
 victions to which I had so long surrendered 
 myself, which still had possession of me, and 
 on which my new thoughts had no direct bear- 
 ing. That new conception of things should only 
 so far influence me as it had a logical claim 
 to do so. If it came from above, it would come 
 again; so I trusted — and with more definite 
 outlines. I thought of Samuel, before f he knew 
 the word of the Lord ' ; and therefore I went, 
 and lay down to sleep again. This was my 
 broad view of the matter, and my prima facie 
 conclusion. 
 
 However, my new historical fact had, to a 
 certain point, a logical force. Down had come 
 the Via Media, as a definite theory or scheme, 
 under the blows of St Leo. My Prophetical Office 
 had come to pieces ; not indeed as an argument 
 against ' Roman errors', nor as against Protest- 
 antism, but as in behalf of England. I had 
 no more a distinctive plea for Anglicanism, un- 
 less I would be a Monophysite. I had, most 
 painfully, to fall back upon my three original 
 points of belief, which I have spoken so much 
 of in a former passage — the principle of dogma, 
 the sacramental system, and anti- Romanism. Of 
 
136 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 these three, the first two were better secured 
 in Rome than in the Anglican Church. The 
 Apostolical Succession, the two prominent sacra- 
 ments, and the primitive creeds, belonged, in- 
 deed, to the latter, but there had been, and 
 was, far less strictness on matters of dogma and 
 ritual in the Anglican system than in the Roman : 
 in consequence, my main argument for the Angli- 
 can claims lay in the positive and special char- 
 ges which I could bring against Rome. I had 
 no positive Anglican theory. I was very nearly 
 a pure Protestant. Lutherans had a sort of 
 theology, so had Calvinists ; I had none. 
 
 However, this pure Protestantism, to which 
 I was gradually left, was really a practical prin- 
 ciple. It was a strong, though it was only a 
 negative ground, and it still had great hold on 
 me. As a boy of fifteen, I had so fully imbibed 
 it, that I had actually erased in my Gradus ad 
 Parnassum, such titles, under the word 'Papa', 
 as 'Christi Vicarius', f sacer interpres', and 
 'sceptra gerens', and substituted epithets so 
 vile that I cannot bring myself to write them 
 down here. The effect of this early persuasion 
 remained as, what I have already called it, a 
 ' stain upon my imagination'. As regards my 
 reason, I began in 1833 to form theories on the 
 subject, which tended to obliterate it. In the first 
 part of Home Thoughts Abroad, written in that 
 year, after speaking of Rome as e undeniably the 
 most exalted Church in the whole world', and 
 manifesting e in all the truth and beauty of the 
 Spirit, that side of high mental excellence, which 
 Pagan Rome attempted but could not realize — 
 high-mind edness, majesty, and the calm conscious- 
 ness of power ' — I proceed to say : ' Alas ! . . the old 
 
1839 to 1841 137 
 
 spirit has revived, and the monster of Daniel's 
 vision, untamed by its former judgments, has 
 seized upon Christianity as the new instrument 
 of its impieties, and awaits a second and final 
 woe from God's hand. Surely the doctrine of 
 the Genius Loci is not without foundation, and 
 explains to us how the blessing or the curse 
 attaches to cities and countries, not to genera- 
 tions. Michael is represented (in the book of 
 Daniel) as opposed to the Prince of the kingdom 
 of Persia. Old Rome is still alive. The Sorceress 
 upon the Seven Hills, in the book of Revelation, 
 is not the Church of Rome, but Rome itself, 
 the bad spirit, which, in its former shape, was 
 the animating spirit of the Fourth Monarchy.' 
 Then I refer to St Malachi's Prophecy which 
 6 makes a like distinction between the City and 
 the Church of Rome. "In the last persecution 
 (it says) of the Holy Roman Church, Peter of 
 Rome shall be on the throne, who shall feed 
 his flock in many tribulations. When these are 
 past, the City upon the Seven Hills shall be 
 destroyed, and the awful Judge shall judge the 
 people".' Then I append my moral: '1 deny 
 that the distinction is unmeaning; Is it nothing 
 to be able to look on our Mother, to whom we 
 owe the blessing of Christianity, with affection 
 instead of hatred? — with pity indeed, aye, and 
 fear, but not with horror? Is it nothing to 
 rescue her from the hard names which inter- 
 preters of prophecy have put upon her, as an 
 idolatress, and an enemy of God, when she is 
 deceived rather than a deceiver? Nothing to 
 be able to account her priests as ordained of 
 God, and anointed for their spiritual functions 
 by the Holy Spirit, instead of considering her 
 
138 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 communion the bond of Satan?' This was my 
 first advance in rescuing, on an intelligible, 
 intellectual basis, the Roman Church from the 
 designation of Antichrist; it was not the Church, 
 but the old dethroned Pagan monster, still living 
 in the ruined city, that was Antichrist. 
 
 In a Tract in 1838 I profess to give the opinions 
 of the Fathers on the subject, and the conclusions 
 to which I come are still less violent against the 
 Roman Church, though on the same basis as before. 
 I say that the local Christian Church of Rome has 
 been the means of shielding the pagan city from 
 the fulness of those judgments which are due 
 to it ; and that, in consequence of this, though 
 Babylon has been utterly swept from the earth, 
 Rome remains to this day. The reason 'seemed 
 to be simply this, that, when the barbarians came 
 down, God had a people in that city. Babylon 
 was a mere prison of the Church ; Rome had 
 received her as a guest. 'That vengeance has 
 never fallen : it is still suspended ; nor can reason 
 be given why Rome has not fallen under the 
 rule of God's general dealings with His rebellious 
 creatures, except that a Christian Church is still 
 in that city, sanctifying it, interceding for it, 
 saving it.' I add, in a note: 'No opinion, one 
 way or the other, is here expressed as to the 
 question, how far, as the local Church has saved 
 Rome, so Rome has corrupted the local Church ; 
 or whether the local Church in consequence, or 
 again whether other Churches elsewhere, may or 
 may not be types of Antichrist.' I quote all this 
 in order to show how Bishop Newton was still upon 
 my mind, even in 1838 ; and how I was feeling after 
 some other interpretation of prophecy instead of 
 his, and not without a good deal of hesitation. 
 
1839 to 1841 139 
 
 However, I have found notes written in March, 
 1839, which anticipate my Article in The British 
 Critic of October, 1840, in which I contended 
 that the Churches of Rome and England were 
 both one, and also the one true Church, for 
 the very reason that they had both been stig- 
 matized by the name of Antichrist, proving my 
 point from the text, ' If they have called the 
 Master of the House Beelzebub, how much more 
 them of His household', and quoting largely 
 from Puritans and Independents to show that, 
 in their mouths, the Anglican Church is Anti- 
 christ and Antichristian as well as the Roman. 
 I urged in that article, that the calumny of being 
 Antichrist is almost ' one of the Notes of the true 
 Church ' ; and, that ' there is no medium between 
 a Vice-Christ and Anti-Christ ' ; for e it is not the 
 acts that make the difference between them, but 
 the authority for those acts \ This of course was 
 a new mode of viewing the question ; but we 
 cannot unmake ourselves, or change our habits, 
 in a moment. It is quite clear, that, if I dared 
 not commit myself in 1838 to the belief that 
 the Church of Rome was not a type of Anti- 
 christ, I could not have thrown off the unreason- 
 ing prejudice and suspicion which I cherished 
 about her for some time after, at least by fits 
 and starts, in spite of the conviction of my reason. 
 I cannot prove this, but I believe it to have been 
 the case, from what I recollect of myself. Nor 
 was there anything in the history of St Leo 
 and the Monophy sites to uncfo the firm belief 
 I had in the existence of what I called the 
 practical abuses and excesses of Rome. 
 
 To the inconsistencies then, to the ambition 
 and intrigue, to the sophistries of Rome (as I 
 
140 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 considered them to be) I had recourse in my 
 opposition to her, both public and personal. I 
 did so by way of a relief. I had a great and 
 growing dislike, after the summer of 1839, to 
 speak against the Roman Church herself, or her 
 formal doctrines. I was very averse to speak 
 against doctrines which might possibly turn out 
 to be true, though at the time I had no reason 
 for thinking they were, or against the Church 
 which had preserved them. I began to have 
 misgivings, that, strong as my own feelings had 
 been against her, yet in some things which I 
 had said, I had taken the statements of Anglican 
 divines for granted, without weighing them for 
 myself. I said to a friend in 1840, in a letter 
 which I shall use presently : c I am troubled by 
 doubts whether as it is, I have not, in what I 
 have published, spoken too strongly against Rome, 
 though I think I did it in a kind of faith, being 
 determined to put myself into the English system, 
 and say all that our divines said, whether I had 
 fully weighed it or not.' I was sore about the 
 great Anglican divines, as if they had taken me 
 in, and made me say strong things, which facts 
 did not justify. Yet I did still hold in substance 
 all that 1 had £aid against the Church of Rome 
 in my Prophetical Office. I felt the force of the 
 usual Protestant objections against her; I believed 
 that we had the Apostolical succession in the 
 Anglican Church, and the grace ot the sacraments; 
 I was not sure that the difficulty of its isolation 
 might not be overcome, though I was far from 
 sure that it could. I did not see any clear proof 
 that it had committed itself to any heresy, or 
 had taken part against the truth ; and I was not 
 sure that it would not revive into full Apostolic 
 
1839 to 1841 141 
 
 purity and strength, and grow into union with 
 Rome herself (Rome explaining her doctrines, 
 and guarding against their abuse), that is, if 
 we were but patient and hopeful. I wished for 
 union between the Anglican Church and Rome, 
 if, and when, it was possible; and I did what 
 I could to gain weekly prayers for that object. 
 The ground which I felt good against her was 
 the moral ground ; I felt I could not be wrong 
 in striking at her political and social line of 
 action. The alliance of a dogmatic religion with 
 Liberals, high or low, seemed to me a providential 
 direction against moving towards it, and a better 
 Preservative against Popery than the three volumes 
 folio, in which, I think, that prophylactic is to be 
 found. However, on accasions which demanded 
 it, I felt it a duty to give out plainly all that 
 I thought, though I did not like to do so. One 
 such instance occurred when I had to publish 
 a letter about Tract 90. In that letter I said, 
 ' Instead of setting before the soul the Holy 
 Trinity, and heaven and hell, the Church of 
 Rome does seem to me, as a popular system, to 
 preach the Blessed Virgin, and the Saints, and 
 purgatory.' On this occasion I recollect expres- 
 sing to a friend the distress it gave me thus 
 to speak ; but I said, ' How can I help saying 
 it, if I think it? and do think it; my bishop 
 calls on me to say out what I think; and that 
 is the long and the short of it.' But I recol- 
 lected Hurrell Froude's words to me, almost 
 his dying words, 'I must enter another protest 
 against your cursing and swearing. What good 
 can it do ?— and I call it uncharitable to an excess. 
 How mistaken we may ourselves be on many 
 points that are only gradually opening on us!' 
 
142 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Instead, then, of speaking of errors in doctrine, 
 I was driven by my state of mind to insist 
 upon the political conduct, the controversial 
 bearing, and the social methods and manifes- 
 tations of Rome. And here I found a matter 
 close at hand, which affected me most sensibly 
 too, because it was before my eyes. I can hardly 
 describe too strongly my feeling upon it. I had 
 an unspeakable aversion to the policy and acts 
 of Mr O'Connell, because, as I thought, he 
 associated himself with men of all religions, and 
 no religion, against the Anglican Church, and 
 advanced Catholicism by violence and intrigue. 
 When, then, I found him taken up by the English 
 Catholics, and, as I supposed, at Rome, I con- 
 sidered I had a fulfilment before my eyes how 
 the Court of Rome played fast and loose, and 
 fulfilled the bad points which I had seen put 
 down in books against it. Here we saw what 
 Rome was in action, whatever she might be 
 when quiescent. Her conduct was simply secular 
 and political. 
 
 This feeling led me into the excess of being 
 very rude to that zealous and most charitable 
 man, Mr Spencer, when he came to Oxford in 
 January, 1840, to get Anglicans to set about 
 praying for Unity. I myself then, or soon after, 
 drew up such prayers ; it was one of the first 
 thoughts which came upon me after my shock, 
 but I was too much annoyed with the political 
 action of the memhers of the Roman Church 
 in England to wish to have any thing to do 
 with them personally. So glad in my heart was 
 I to see him when he came to my rooms, 
 whither Mr Palmer of Magdalen brought him, 
 that I could have laughed for joy; I think I 
 
1839 to 1841 143 
 
 did ; but I was very rude to him, I would not 
 meet him at dinner, and that (though I did 
 not say so) because I considered him 'in loco 
 apostatae' from the Anglican Church, and I 
 hereby beg his pardon for it. I wrote afterwards 
 with a view to apologize, but I dare say he 
 must have thought that I made the matter 
 worse, for these were my words to him: 
 
 e The news that you are praying for us is most 
 touching, and raises a variety of indescribable 
 emotions. May their prayers return abundantly 
 into their own bosoms ! Why, then, do I not 
 meet you in manner conformable with these 
 first feelings? For this single reason, if I may 
 say it, that your acts are contrary to your words. 
 You invite us to a union of hearts, at the same 
 time that you are doing all you can, not to 
 restore, not to reform, not to re-unite, but to 
 destroy our Church. You go further than your 
 principles require. You are leagued with our 
 enemies. "The voice is Jacob's voice, but the 
 hands are the hands of Esau." This is what 
 especially distresses us ; this is what we cannot 
 understand, how Christians, like yourselves, with 
 the clear view you have, that a warfare is ever 
 waging in the world between good and evil, 
 should, in the present state of England, ally 
 yourselves with the side of evil against the side 
 of good... Of parties now in the countiy, you 
 cannot but allow, that next to yourselves we are 
 nearest to revealed truth. We maintain great and 
 holy principles; we profess Catholic doctrines../ 
 'So near are we as a body to yourselves in 
 modes of thinking, as even to have been taunted 
 with the nicknames which belong to you ; and, 
 on the other hand, if there are professed infidels , 
 
144 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 scoffers, sceptics, unprincipled men, rebels, they 
 are found among our opponents. And yet you 
 take part with them against us... You consent 
 to act hand in hand (with these and others) 
 for our overthrow. Alas ! all this it is, that im- 
 presses us irresistibly with the notion that you 
 are a political, not a religious party; that, in 
 order to gain an end on which you set your 
 hearts — an open stage for yourselves in England — 
 you ally yourselves with those who hold nothing, 
 against those who hold something. This is what 
 distresses my own mind so greatly, to speak of 
 myself, that, with limitations which need not 
 now be mentioned, I cannot meet familiarly 
 any leading persons of the Roman Communion, 
 and least of all when they come on a religious 
 errand. Break off, I would say, with Mr O'Connell 
 in Ireland and the Liberal party in England, or 
 come not to us with overtures for mutual prayer 
 and religious sympathy/ 
 
 And here came in another feeling of a personal 
 nature, which had little to do with the argument 
 against Rome, except that, in my prejudice, I 
 connected it with my own ideas of the usual 
 conduct of her advocates and instruments. I was 
 very stern upon any interference in our Oxford 
 matters on the part of charitable Catholics, and 
 on any attempt to do me good personally. There 
 was nothing, indeed, at the time more likely to 
 throw me back. c Why do you meddle? Why 
 cannot you let me alone ? You can do me no 
 good; you know nothing on earth about me; 
 you may actually do me harm; I am in better 
 hands than yours. I know my own sincerity of 
 purpose ; and I am determined upon taking my 
 time.' Since I have been a Catholic, people have 
 
1839 to 1841 145 
 
 sometimes accused me of backwardness in making 
 converts ; and Protestants have argued from it that 
 I have no great eagerness to do so. It would be 
 against my nature to act otherwise than I do ; but 
 besides, it would be to forget the lessons which 
 1 gained in the experience of my own history 
 in the past. 
 
 This is the account which I have to give of 
 some savage and ungrateful words in The British 
 Critic of 1840 against the controversialists of 
 Rome: 'By their fruits ye shall know them. . . 
 We see it attempting to gain converts among 
 us by unreal representations of its doctrines, 
 plausible statements, bold assertions, appeals to 
 the weaknesses of human nature, to our fancies, 
 our eccentricities, our fears, our frivolities, our 
 false philosophies. We see its agents, smiling 
 and nodding and ducking to attract attention, 
 as gipseys make up to truant boys, holding out 
 tales for the nursery, and pretty pictures, and 
 gilt gingerbread, and physic concealed in jam, 
 and sugar-plums for good children. Who can 
 but feel shame when the religion of Ximenes, 
 Borromeo, and Pascal, is so overlaid? Who can 
 but feel sorrow, when its devout and earnest 
 defenders so mistake its genius and its capabili- 
 ties? We Englishmen like manliness, openness, 
 consistency, truth. Rome will never gain on 
 us till she learns these virtues, and uses them ; 
 and then she may gain us, but it will be by 
 ceasing to be what we now mean by Rome, by 
 having a right, not to "have dominion over 
 our faith", but to gain and possess our affections 
 in the bonds of the gospel. Till she ceases to 
 be what she practically is, a union is impos- 
 sible between her and England ; but, if she does 
 
 10 
 
146 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 reform (and who can presume to say that so 
 large a part of Christendom never can ?) then it 
 will be our Church's duty at once to join in 
 communion with the continental Churches what- 
 ever politicians at home may say to it, and 
 whatever steps the civil power may take in 
 consequence. And though we may not live to see 
 that day, at least we are bound to pray for it ; 
 we are bound to pray for our brethren that they 
 and we may be led together into the pure light 
 of the gospel, and be one as we once were one. 
 It was most touching news to be told, as we 
 were lately, that Christians on the Continent were 
 praying together for the spiritual well-being of 
 England. May they gain light, while they aim 
 at unity, and grow in faith while they manifest 
 their love ! We, too, have our duties to them ; 
 not of reviling, not of slandering, not of hating, 
 though political interests require it; but the 
 duty of loving brethren still more abundantly 
 in spirit, whose faces for our sins and their 
 sins we are not allowed to see in the flesh/ 
 
 No one ought to indulge in insinuations ; it 
 certainly diminishes my right to complain of 
 slanders uttered against myself, when, as in this 
 passage, I had already spoken iu condemnation 
 of that class of controversialists to which I 
 myself now belong. 
 
 I have thus put together, as well as I could, 
 what has to be said about my general state of 
 mind from the autumn of 1839 to the summer 
 of 1841 ; and, having done so, I go on to narrate 
 how my new misgivings affected my conduct, 
 and my relations towards the Anglican Church. 
 
 When I got back to Oxford in October, 1839, 
 
1839 to 1841 147 
 
 after the visits which I had been paying, it so 
 happened there had been, in my absence, occur- 
 rences of an awkward character, bringing me into 
 collision both with my Bishop and also with the 
 University authorities ; and this drew my attention 
 at once to the state of what would be considered 
 the Movement party there, and made me very 
 anxious for the future. In the spring of the year, 
 as has been seen in the article analyzed above, 
 I had spoken of the excesses which were to be 
 found among persons commonly included in it ; 
 at that time I thought little of such an evil, 
 but the new thoughts, which had come on me 
 during the Long Vacation, on the one hand 
 made me comprehend it, and on the other took 
 away my power of effectually meeting it. A firm 
 and powerful control was necessary to keep men 
 straight ; I never had a strong wrist, but at the 
 very time when it was most needed the reins 
 had broken in my hands. With an anxious presenti- 
 ment on my mind of the upshot of the whole 
 inquiry, which it was almost impossible for me 
 to conceal from men who saw me day by day, 
 who heard my familiar conversation, who came 
 perhaps for the express purpose of pumping me, 
 and having a categorical yes or no to their ques- 
 tions — how could I expect to say anything about 
 my actual, positive, present belief, which would be 
 sustaining or consoling to such persons as were 
 haunted already by doubts of their own? Nay, 
 how could I, with satisfaction to myself, analyze 
 my own mind, and say what I held and what 
 I did not ? or say with what limitations, shades 
 of difference, or degrees of belief, I held that 
 body of opinions which I had openly professed 
 and taught? how could I deny or assert this 
 
148 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 point or that, without injustice to the new view 
 in which the whole evidence for those old opin- 
 ions presented itself to my mind? 
 
 However, I had to do what I could, and what 
 was best, under the circumstances ; I found a 
 general talk on the subject of the article in 
 The Dublin Review; and, if it had affected me, 
 it was not wonderful that it affected others also. 
 As to myself, I felt no kind of certainty that 
 the argument in it was conclusive. Taking it 
 at the worst, granting that the Anglican Church 
 had not the Note of Catholicity ; yet there were 
 many Notes of the Church. Some belonged to 
 one age or place, some to another. Bellarmine 
 had reckoned Temporal Prosperity among the 
 Notes of the Church; but the Roman Church 
 had not any great popularity, wealth, glory, 
 power, or prospects, in the nineteenth century. 
 It was not at all certain yet even that we had 
 not the Note of Catholicity ; but, if not, we had 
 others. My first business, then, was to examine 
 this question carefully, and see if a great deal 
 could not be said after all for the Anglican 
 Church, in spite of its acknowledged short- 
 comings. This I did in an article On the Catholi- 
 city of the English Church, which appeared in 
 The British Critic of January, 1840. As to my 
 personal distress on the point, I think it had 
 gone by February 21st in that year, for I 
 wrote then to Mr Bowden about the important 
 article in the Dublin, thus: 'It made a great 
 impression here [Oxford] ; and I say, what of 
 course I would only say to such as yourself, it 
 made me for a while very uncomfortable in 
 my own mind. The great speciousness of his 
 argument is one of the things which have made 
 
1839 to 1841 149 
 
 me despond so much', that is, as to its effect 
 upon others. 
 
 But, secondly, the great stumbling-block lay in 
 the 39 Articles. It was urged that here was a 
 positive Note against Anglicanism: Anglicanism 
 claimed to hold that the Church of England was 
 nothing else than a continuation in this country 
 (as the Church of Rome might be in France or 
 Spain) of that one Church of which, in old times, 
 Athanasius and Augustine were members. But, 
 if so, the doctrine must be the same ; the doctrine 
 of the Old Church must live and speak in Anglican 
 formularies, in the 39 Articles. Did it? Yes, it 
 did ; that is what I maintained ; it did in sub- 
 stance, in a true sense. Man had done his worst 
 to disfigure, to mutilate the old Catholic Truth, 
 but there it was, in spite of them, in the Articles 
 still. It was there, but this must be shown. It 
 was a matter of life and death to us to show 
 it. And I believed that it could be shown ; I 
 considered that those grounds of justification, 
 which I gave above, when I was speaking of 
 Iract 90, were sufficient for the purpose ; and 
 therefore I set about showing it at once. This 
 was in March 1840, when I went up to Lit- 
 tlemore. And, as it was a matter of life and 
 death with us, all risks must be run to show it. 
 When the attempt was actually made, I had 
 got reconciled to the prospect of it, and had 
 no apprehensions as to the experiment; but in 
 1840, while my purpose was honest, and my 
 grounds of reason satisfactory, I did nevertheless 
 recognize that I was engaged in an experimentum 
 cruris. I have no doubt that then I acknowledged 
 to myself, that it would be a trial of the Anglican 
 Church which it had never undergone before — 
 
150 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 not that the Catholic sense of the Articles had 
 not been held, or at least suffered by their framers 
 and promulgators, and was not implied in the 
 teaching of Andrewes or Beveridge, but that it 
 had never been publicly recognized, while the 
 interpretation of the day was Protestant and 
 exclusive. I observe also, that, though my Tract 
 was an experiment, it was, as I said at the time, 
 e no Jeeler', the event showed it; for, when my 
 principle was not granted, I did not draw back, 
 but gave up. I would not hold office in a Church 
 which would not allow my sense of the Articles. 
 My tone was, * This is necessary for us, and have 
 it we must and will, and, if it tends to bring 
 men to look less bitterly on the Church of 
 Rome, so much the better.' 
 
 This, then, was the second work to which I 
 set myself; though when I got to Littlemore, 
 other things came in the way of accomplishing 
 it at the moment. I had in mind to remove 
 all such obstacles as were in the way of holding 
 the Apostolic and Catholic character of the 
 Anglican teaching; to assert the right of all 
 who chose to say in the face of day, 'Our 
 Church teaches the primitive ancient faith \ I 
 did not conceal this: in Tract 90, it is put 
 forward as the first principle of all, 'It is a 
 duty which we owe, both to the Catholic Church, 
 and to our own, to take our reformed confessions 
 in the most Catholic sense they will admit : we 
 have no duties towards their framers.' And still 
 more pointedly in my letter, explanatory of the 
 Tract, addressed to Dr J elf, I say: 'The only 
 peculiarity of the view I advocate, if I must 
 so call it, is this — that whereas it is usual at 
 this day to make the particular belief of their 
 
1839 to 1841 151 
 
 writers their true interpretation, I would make 
 the belief of the Catholic Church such. That is, 
 as it is often said that infants are regenerated 
 in Baptism, not on the faith of their parents, 
 but of the Church, so in like manner I would 
 say that the Articles are received, not in the 
 sense of their framers, but (as far as the wording 
 will admit, or any ambiguity requires it) in the 
 one Catholic sense/ 
 
 A third measure which I distinctly contem- # 
 plated, was the resignation of St Mary's, whatever 
 became of the question of the Articles ; and as a 
 first step I meditated a retirement to Littlemore. 
 I had built a Church there, several years before ; 
 and I went there to pass the Lent of 1840, and 
 gave myself up to teaching in the Poor Schools, 
 and practising the choir. At the same time, I 
 contemplated a monastic house there. I bought 
 ten acres of ground, and began planting ; but this 
 great design was never carried out. I mention 
 it, because it shows how little I had really the 
 idea then of ever leaving the Anglican Church. 
 That I also contemplated even the further step 
 of giving up St Mary's itself as early as 1839, 
 appears from a letter wrich I wrote in October, 
 1 840, to the friend whom it was most natural for 
 me to consult on such a point. It ran as follows : 
 
 For a year past, a feeling has been growing on me that 
 I ought to give up St. Mary's, but I am no fit judge in 
 the matter. I cannot ascertain accurately my own im- 
 pressions and convictions, which are the basis of the 
 difficulty, and though you cannot of course do this for 
 me, yet you may help me generally, and perhaps super- 
 sede the necessity of my going by them at all, 
 
 First, it is certain that I do not know my Oxford 
 parishioners; I am not conscious of influencing them, and 
 certainly I have no insight into their spiritual state, I 
 have no personal, no pastoral acquaintance with them, 
 
152 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 To very few have I any opportunity of saying a religious 
 word. Whatever influence I exert on them is precisely 
 that which I may be exerting on persons out of my 
 parish. In my excuse, I am accustomed to say to myself 
 that I am not adapted to get on with them, while others 
 are. On the other hand, I am conscious, that by means 
 of my position at St Mary's I do exert a considerable 
 influence on the University, whether on undergraduates 
 or graduates. It seems, then, on the whole, that I am 
 using St Mary's, to the neglect of its direct duties, for 
 objects not belonging to it; I am converting a parochial 
 charge into a sort of University office. 
 
 I think I may say truly, that I have begun scarcely 
 any plan but for the sake of my parish, but every one 
 has turned, independently of me, into the direction of 
 the University. I began Saints'-days services, daily ser- 
 vices, and lectures in Adam de Brome's Chapel, for my 
 parishioners; but they have not come to them. Inconse- 
 quence I dropped the last mentioned, having, while it 
 lasted, been naturally led to direct it to the instruction 
 of those who did come, instead of those who did not. 
 The weekly Communion, I believe, I did begin for the 
 sake of the University. 
 
 Added to this, the authorities of the University, the 
 appointed guardians of those who form great part of the 
 attendants on my sermons, have shown a dislike of my 
 preaching. One dissuades men from coming— the late 
 Vice-Chancellor threatens to take his own children away 
 from the Church ; and the present, having an opportunity 
 last spring of preaching in my parish pulpit, gets up and 
 preaches against doctrine with which I am in good measure 
 identified. No plainer proof can be given of the feeling 
 in these quarters than the absurd myth, now a second 
 time put forward, that 'Vice-Chancellors cannot be got 
 to take the office on account of Puseyism.' 
 
 But further than this, I cannot disguise from myself 
 that my preaching is not calculated to defend that system 
 ligion which has been received for 300 years, and 
 oi «nich the Heads of Houses are the legitimate main- 
 tainors in this place. They exclude me, as far as may 
 be, from the University Pulpit ; and, though I never have 
 preached strong doctrine in it, they do so rightly, so far 
 as this, that they understand that my sermons are cal- 
 culated to undermine things established, I cannot disguise 
 from myself that they are. No one will deny that most 
 of my sermons are on moral subjects, not doctrinal; still 
 
1839 to 1841 153 
 
 I am leading my hearers to the Primitive Church, if you 
 will, bnt not to the Church of England. Now, ought one 
 to be disgusting the minds of young men with the received 
 religion, in the exercise of a sacred office, yet without a 
 commission, against the wish of their guides and governors? 
 
 But this is not all. I fear I must allow, that, whether 
 I will or no, I am disposing them towards Rome. First, 
 because Rome is the only representative of the Primitive 
 Chnrch besides ourselves ; in proportion then as they are 
 loosened from the one, they will go to the other. Next, 
 because many doctrines which I have held, have far 
 greater, or their only scope in the Roman system. And, 
 moreover, if, as is not unlikely, we have in process of 
 time heretical bishops or teachers among us, an evil 
 which ipso facto infects the whole community to which 
 they belong, and if, again (what there are at this moment 
 symptoms of), there be a movement in the English Roman 
 Catholics to break the alliance of O'Connell and of Exeter 
 Hall, strong temptations will be placed in the way of 
 individuals, already imbued with a tone of thought congen- 
 ial to Rome, to join her Communion. 
 
 People tell me, on the other hand, that I am, whether 
 by sermons or otherwise, exerting at St Mary's a beneficial 
 influence on our prospective clergy; but what if I take 
 to myself the credit of seeing further than they, and of 
 having in the course of the last year discovered, that what 
 they approve so much is very likely to end in Romanism? 
 
 The arguments which I have published against Romanism 
 seem to myself as cogent as ever, but men go by their 
 sympathies, not by argument; and if T feel the force of 
 this influence myself, who bow to the arguments, why 
 may not others still more, who never have in the same 
 degree admitted the arguments? 
 
 Nor can I counteract the danger by preaching or writing 
 against Rome. I seem to myself almost to have shot my 
 last arrow, in the article on English Catholicity. It must 
 be added, that the very circumstance that I have commit- 
 ted myself against Rome has the effect of setting to sleep 
 people suspicious about me, which is painful now that I 
 begin to have suspicions about myself. I mentioned my 
 general difficulty to A. B., a year since, than whom I 
 know no one of a more fine and accurate conscience, and 
 it was his spontaneous idea that I should give up St 
 Mail's, if my feelings continued. I mentioned it again 
 to him lately, and he did not reverse his opinion, only 
 expressed great reluctance to believe it must be s,q. 
 
154 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 My friend's judgment was in favour of my re- 
 taining my living, at least for the present; 
 what weighed with me most was his saying: 
 1 You must consider, whether your retiring, either 
 from the pastoral care only, or from writing 
 and printing and editing in the cause, would 
 not be a sort of scandalous thing, unless it were 
 done very warily. It would be said, "You see 
 he can go on no longer with the Church of 
 England, except in mere Lay Communion" ; or 
 people might say you repented of the cause 
 altogether. Till you see (your way to mitigate, 
 if not remove this evil) I certainly should advise 
 you to stay.' I answered as follows: 
 
 Since you think I may go on, it seems to follow that, 
 under the circumstances, I ought to do so. There are 
 plenty of reasons for it directly it is allowed to be lawful. 
 The following considerations have much reconciled my 
 feelings to your conclusion. 
 
 1. I do not think that we have yet made fair trial 
 how much the English Church will bear. I know it is a 
 hazardous experiment — like proving cannon. Yet we must 
 not take it for granted, that the metal will burst in the 
 operation. It has borne at various times, not to say at 
 this time, a great infusion of Catholic truth without damage. 
 As to the result, viz.. whether this process will not ap- 
 proximate the whole English Church, as a body, to Rome, 
 that is nothing to us. For what we know, it may be the 
 providential means of uniting the whole Church in one, 
 without fresh schismatizing, or use of private judgment. 
 
 Here, I observe, that what was contemplated 
 was the bursting of the Catholicity of the Ang- 
 lican Church, that is, my subjective idea of that 
 Church. Its bursting would not hurt her with the 
 world, but would be a discovery that she was pure- 
 ly and essentially Protestant, and would be really 
 the ( hoisting of the engineer with his own petard '. 
 Aiid this was the was result, I continue 
 
1839 to 1841 155 
 
 2. Say, that I move sympathies for Rome: in the same 
 sense do Hooker, Taylor, Bull, &c. Their arguments 
 may be against Rome, but the sympathies they raise must 
 be towards Rome, so far as Rome maintains truths which 
 our Church does not teach or enforce. Thus it is a 
 question of degree between our divines and me. I may, 
 if so be, go further; I may raise sympathies more; but I 
 am but urging minds in the same direction as they do. 
 I am doing just the very thing which all our doctors 
 have ever been doing. In short, would not Hooker, if 
 Vicar of St Mary's, be in my difficulty? 
 
 Here it may be said, that Hooker could 
 preach against Rome, and I could not; but I 
 doubt whether he could have preached effective- 
 ly against Transubstantiation better than I, 
 though neither he nor I held it. 
 
 3. Rationalism is the great evil of the day. May not 
 I consider my post at St Mary's as a place of protest 
 against it? I am more certain that the Protestant (spirit), 
 which I oppose, leads to infidelity, than that which I 
 recommend, leads to Rome. Who knows what the state 
 of the University may be, as regards Divinity Professors, 
 in a few years hence? Anyhow, a great battle may be 
 coming on, of which C. D.'s book is a sort of earnest. 
 The whole of our day may be a battle with this spirit. 
 May we not leave to another age its own evil — to settle 
 the question of Romanism? 
 
 I may add that from this time I had a curate 
 at St Mary's, who gradually took more and 
 more of my work. 
 
 Also, this same year, 1840, I made arrange- 
 ments for giving up The British Critic in the 
 following July, which were carried into effect 
 at that date. 
 
 Such was about my state of mind on the publi- 
 cation of Tract 90, in February, 1841. The im- 
 mense commotion consequent upon the publication 
 of the Tract did not unsettle me again ; for I had 
 weathered the storm: the Tract had not been 
 
156 MV RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 condemned: that was the great point; I made 
 much of it. 
 
 To illustrate my feelings during this trial, I will 
 make extracts from my letters to a friend, which 
 have come into my possession, The dates are 
 respectively March 25, April 1, and May 9- 
 
 1. I do trust I shall make no false step, and hope 
 my friends will pray for me to this effect. If, as you say, 
 a destiny hangs over us, a single false step may ruin all. 
 I am very well and comfortable; but we are not yet out 
 of the wood. 
 
 2. The Bishop sent me word on Sunday to write a 
 letter to him Hnstanter\ So I wrote it on Monday: on 
 Tuesday it passed through the press: on Wednesday it 
 was out: and to-day (Thursday) it is in London. 
 
 I trust that things are smoothing now; and that we 
 have made a great step is certain. It is not right to 
 boast, till I am clear out of the wood, i. e. till I know 
 how the letter is received in London. You know, I sup- 
 pose, that I am to stop the Tracts', but you will see in 
 the letter, though I speak quite what I feel, yet I have 
 managed to take out on my side my snubbing's worth. And 
 this makes me anxious how it will be received in London. 
 
 I have not had a misgiving for five minutes from the 
 first: but I do not like to boast, lest some harm come. 
 
 3. The bishops are very desirous of hushing the matter 
 up: and I certainly have done my utmost to co-operate 
 with them, on the understanding that the Tract is not to 
 be withdrawn or condemned. 
 
 And to my friend, Mr Bowden, under date 
 of March 15 : 
 
 The Heads, I believe, have just done a violent act: 
 they have said that my interpretation of the Articles is 
 an evasion. Do not think that this will pain me. You 
 see, no doctrine is censured, and my shoulders shall 
 manage to bear the charge. If you knew all, or were 
 here, you would see that I have asserted a great principle, 
 and I ought to suffer for it: — that the Articles are to be 
 interpreted, not according to the meaning of the writers, 
 but (as far as the wording will admit) according to the 
 sense of the Catholic Church, 
 
1839 to 1841 157 
 
 Upon occasion of Tract 90, several Catholics 
 wrote to me; I answered one of my correspondents 
 thus: 
 
 April 8. — You have no cause to be surprised at the 
 discontinuance of the Tracts. We feel no misgivings 
 about it whatever, as if the cause of what we hold to be 
 Catholic truth would sufler thereby. My letter to my 
 Bishop has, I trust, had the effect of bringing the pre- 
 ponderating authority of the Church on our side. No 
 stopping of the Tracts can, humanly speaking, stop the 
 spread of the opinions which they have inculcated. 
 
 The Tracts are not suppressed. No doctrine or principle 
 has been conceded by us, or condemned by authority. 
 The Bishop has but said, that a certain Tract is 'object- 
 ionable \ no reason being stated. I have no intention 
 whatever of yielding any one point which I hold on con- 
 viction; and that the authorities of the Church know 
 full well. 
 
 In the summer of 1841 I found myself at 
 Littlemore, without any harass or anxiety on my 
 mind. I had determined to put aside all contro- 
 versy, and I set myself down to my translation 
 of St Athanasius ; but, between July and Novem- 
 ber, I received three blows which broke me. 
 
 1. I had got but a little way in my work, 
 when my trouble returned on me. The ghost 
 had come a second time. In the Arian History 
 I found the very same phenomenon, in a far 
 bolder shape, which I had found in the Mono- 
 physite. I had not observed it in 1832. Wonder- 
 ful that this should come upon me ! I had not 
 sought it out; I was reading and writing in 
 my own line of study, far from the controversies 
 of the day, on what is called a 'metaphysical' 
 subject; but I saw clearly, that in the history 
 of Arianism, the pure Arians were the Protestants, 
 the semi- Arians were the Anglicans, and that 
 Rome now was, what it was. The truth lay, not 
 
158 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 with the Via Media, but in what was called 
 'the extreme party*. As I am not writing a 
 work of controversy, I need not enlarge upon 
 the argument; I have said something on the 
 subject, in a volume which I published fourteen 
 years ago. 
 
 2. I was in the misery of this new unsettlement, 
 when a second blow came upon me. The bishops, 
 one after another, began to charge against me. 
 It was a formal, determinate movement. This 
 was the real ' understanding * ; that on which I 
 had acted on occasion of Tract 90 had come to 
 naught. I think the words, which had then been 
 used to me, were, that 'perhaps two or three 
 might think it necessary to say something in 
 their charges ' ; but, by this time, they had tided 
 over the difficulty of the Tract, and there was 
 no one to enforce the 'understanding'. They 
 went on in this way, directing charges at me, 
 for three whole years. I recognized it as a 
 condemnation; it was the only one that was in 
 their power. At first I intended to protest ; but 
 I gave up the thought in despair. 
 
 On October 17th, I wrote thus to a friend: 
 
 I suppose it will be necessary in some shape or other 
 to re-assert Tract 90; else, it will seem, after these Bis- 
 hop's Charges, as if it were silenced, which it has not 
 been, nor do I intend it should be. I wish to keep quiet ; 
 but if bishops speak, I will speak, too. If the view were 
 silenced, I could not remain in the Church, nor could 
 many others; and therefore, since it is not silenced, I 
 shall take care to show that it isn't. 
 
 A day or two after, Oct. 22, a stranger wrote 
 to me to say, that the Tracts Jor the Times had 
 made a young friend of his Catholic, and to ask, 
 ' would I be so good as to convert him back ' ; 
 I made anwer: 
 
1839 to 1841 159 
 
 If conversions to Rome take place in consequence of 
 the Tracts for the Times, I do not impute blame to them, 
 but to those who, instead of acknowledging such Anglican 
 principles of theology and ecclesiastical polity as they 
 contain, set themselves to oppose them. Whatever be the 
 influence of the Tracts, great or small, they may become 
 just as powerful for Rome, if our Church refuses them, 
 as they would be for our Church if she accepted them. 
 If our rulers speak either against the Tracts, or not at 
 all, if any number of them, not only do not favour, but 
 even do not suffer the principles contained in them, it is 
 plain that our members may easily be persuaded either 
 to give up those principles, or to give up the Church. 
 If this state of things goes on, I mournfully prophesy, 
 not one or two, but many secessions to the Church of Rome. 
 
 Two years afterwards, looking back on what 
 had passed, I said, e There were no converts to 
 Rome, till after the condemnation of No. 90.* 
 
 3. As if all this were not enough, there came 
 the affair of the Jerusalem Bishopric; and with 
 a brief mention of it I shall conclude. 
 
 I think I am right in saying, that it had been 
 long a desire with the Prussian Court to intro- 
 duce Episcopacy into the Evangelical religion, 
 which was intended in that country to embrace 
 both the Lutheran and Calvinistic bodies. I 
 almost think I heard of the project, when I 
 was at Rome in 1833, at the hotel of the 
 Prussian Minister, M. Bunsen, who was most 
 hospitable and kind, as to other English visitors, 
 so also to my friends and myself. I suppose 
 that the idea of Episcopacy, as the Prussian 
 king understood it, was very different from that 
 taught in the Tractarian School ; but still, I 
 suppose, that the chief authors of that school 
 would have gladly seen such a measure carried 
 out in Prussia, had it been done without com- 
 promising those principles which were necessary 
 to the being of a Church. About the time of 
 
160 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 the publication of Tract 90, M. Bunsen and the 
 then archbishop of Canterbury were taking steps 
 for its execution, by appointing and consecrating 
 a bishop for Jerusalem. Jerusalem, it would seem, 
 was considered a safe place for the experiment; 
 it was too far from Prussia to awaken the 
 susceptibilities of any party at home ; if the 
 project failed, it failed without harm to any 
 one; and, if it succeeded, it gave Protestantism 
 a status in the East, which, in association with 
 the Monophysite, or Jacobite, and the Nestorian 
 bodies, formed a political instrument for England, 
 parallel to that which Russia had in the Greek 
 Church, and France in the Latin. 
 
 Accordingly, in July 1841, full of the Anglican 
 difficulty on the question of Catholicity, I thus 
 spoke of the Jerusalem scheme in an Article in 
 The British Critic: 'When our thoughts turn to 
 the East, instead of recollecting that there are 
 Christian Churches there, we leave it to the 
 Russians to take care of the Greeks, and the 
 French to take care of the Romans, and we 
 content ourselves with erecting a Protestant 
 Church at Jerusalem, or with helping the Jews 
 to rebuild their Temple there, or with becoming 
 the august protectors of Nestorians, Monophysites, 
 and all the heretics we can hear of, or with forming 
 a league with the Mussulman against Greeks and 
 Romans together/ 
 
 I do not pretend, so long after the time, to 
 give a full or exact account of this measure in 
 detail. I will but say that in the Act of Par- 
 liament, under date of October 5, 1841 (if the 
 copy, from which I quote, contains the measure 
 as it passed the Houses) provision is made for the 
 consecration of ( British subjects, or the subjects 
 
1839 to 1841 161 
 
 or citizens of any foreign state, to be bishops 
 in any foreign country, whether such foreign 
 subjects or citizens be or be not subjects or 
 citizens of the country in which they are to 
 act, and... without requiring such of them as 
 may be subjects or citizens of any foreign 
 kingdom or state to take the oaths of allegiance 
 and supremacy, and the oath of due obedience 
 to the Archbishop for the time being'.. . also 
 'that such bishop or bishops, so consecrated, 
 may exercise, within such limits, as may from 
 time to time be assigned for that purpose in 
 such foreign countries by her Majesty, spiritual 
 jurisdiction over the ministers of British congrega- 
 tions of the United Church of England and 
 Ireland, and over such other Piotestant Congrega- 
 tions, as may be desirous of placing themselves 
 under his or their authority/ 
 
 Now here, at the very time that the Anglican 
 bishops were directing their censure upon me 
 for avowing an approach to the Catholic Church 
 not closer than I believed the Anglican formul- 
 aries would allow, they were on the other hand 
 fraternizing, by their act or by their sufferance, 
 with Protestant bodies, and allowing them to put 
 themselves under an Anglican bishop, without 
 any renunciation of their errors or regard to the 
 due reception of baptism and confirmation ; while 
 there was great reason to suppose that the said 
 bishop was intended to make converts from the 
 orthodox Greeks, and the schismatical Oriental 
 bodies, by means of the influence of England. 
 This was the third blow, which finally shattered 
 my faith in the Anglican Church. That Church 
 was not only forbidding any sympathy or concur- 
 rence with the Church of Rome, but it actually 
 
 11 
 
162 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 was courting an intercommunion with Protestant 
 Prussia, and the heresy of the Orientals. The 
 Anglican Church might have the Apostolical 
 succession, as had the Monophysites ; but such 
 acts as were in progress led me to the gravest 
 suspicion, not that it would soon cease to be 
 a Church, but that it had never been a Church 
 all along. 
 
 On October 12th I thus wrote to a friend: 
 'We have not a single Anglican in Jerusalem, so we 
 are sending a bishop to make a communion, not to govern 
 onr own people. Next, the excuse is, that there are 
 converted Anglican Jews there who require a bishop ; 
 I am told there are not half-a-dozen. But for them the 
 bishop is sent out, and for them he is a bishop of the 
 circumcision' (I think he was a converted Jew, who boasted 
 of his Jewish descent), * against the Epistle to the Ga- 
 latians pretty nearly. Thirdly, for the sake of Prussia, 
 he is to take under him all the foreign Protestants who 
 will come; and the political advantages will be so great, 
 from the influence of England, that there is no doubt 
 they will come. They are to sign the Confession of Augs- 
 burg, and there is nothing to show that they hold the 
 doctrine of Baptismal Regeneration. 
 
 As to myself, I shall do nothing whatever publicly, 
 unless indeed it were to give my signature to a protest; 
 but I think it would be out of place in me to agitate, 
 having been in a way silenced; but the Archbishop is 
 really doing most grave work, of which we cannot see 
 the end. 
 
 I did make a solemn protest, and sent it to 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury, and also sent it 
 to my own Bishop, with the following letter: 
 
 It seems as if I were never to write to your Lordship 
 without giving you pain, and I know that my present 
 subject does not specially concern your Lordship; yet, 
 after a great deal of anxious thought, I lay before you 
 the enclosed protest. 
 
 Your Lordship will observe that I am not asking for 
 any notice of it, unless you think that I ought to receive 
 one. I do this very serious act in obedience to my 
 sense of duty. 
 
1839 to 1841 163 
 
 If the English Church is to enter on a new course, 
 and assnme a new aspect, it will be more pleasant to 
 me hereafter to think, that I did not suffer so grievous 
 an event to happen, without bearing witness against it. 
 
 May I be allowed to say, that I augur nothing but evil, 
 if we in any respect prejudice our title to be a branch 
 of the Apostolic Church? That Article of the Creed, I 
 need hardly observe to your Lordship, is of such con- 
 straining power, that, if we will not claim it, and use it 
 for ourselves, others will use it in their own behalf against 
 us. Men who learn, whether by means of documents or 
 measures, whether from the statements or the acts of 
 persons in authority, that our communion is not a branch 
 of the One Church, I foresee with much grief, will be 
 tempted to look out for that Church elsewhere. 
 
 It is to me a subject of great dismay, that, as far as 
 the Church has lately spoken out, on the subject of the 
 opinions which I and others hold, those opinions are, 
 not merely not sanctioned (for that I do not ask), but 
 not even suffered. 
 
 I earnestly hope that your Lordship will excuse my 
 freedom in thus speaking to you of some members of 
 your Most Rev. and Right Rev. body. With every feeling 
 of reverent attachment to your Lordship, 
 
 I am, etc. 
 
 PROTEST 
 
 Whereas the Church of England has a claim on the 
 allegiance of Catholic believers only on the ground of her 
 own claim to be considered a branch of the Catholic Church: 
 
 And whereas the recognition of heresy, indirect as well 
 as direct, goes far to destroy such claim in the case of 
 any religious body advancing it: 
 
 And whereas to admit maintainors of heresy to com- 
 munion, without formal renunciation of their errors, goes 
 far towards recognizing the same: 
 
 And whereas Lutheranism and Calvinism are heresies, 
 repugnant to Scripture, springing up three centuries since, 
 and anathematized by East as well as West: 
 
 And whereas it is reported that the Most Reverend 
 Primate and other Right Reverend rulers of our Church 
 have consecrated a Bishop with a view to exercising 
 spiritual jurisdiction over Protestant, that is, Lutheran 
 
164 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 and Calvinist congregations in the East (under the privisions 
 of an Act made in the last session of Parliament to 
 amend an Act made in the 26th year of the reign of his 
 Majesty King George the Third, intituled ' An Act to em- 
 power the Archbishop of Canterbury, or the Archbishop of 
 York for the time being, to consecrate to the office of Bishop 
 persons being subjects or citizens of countries out of his 
 Majesty* s dominions), dispensing at the same time, not 
 in particular cases, and accidentally, but as if on principle, 
 and universally, with any abjuration of error on the part 
 of such congregations, and with any reconciliation to the 
 Church on the part of the presiding Bishop ; thereby 
 giving some sort of formal recognition to the doctrines 
 which such congregations maintain: 
 
 And whereas the dioceses in England are connected 
 together by so close an intercommunion, that what is 
 done by authority in one, immediately affects the rest: 
 
 On these grounds, I in my place, being a priest of the 
 English Church and Vicar of St Mary the Virgin's, Ox- 
 ford, by way of relieving my conscience, do hereby solemn- 
 ly protest against the measure aforesaid, and disown it, 
 as removing our Church from her present ground, and 
 tending to her disorganization. 
 
 John Henby Newman. 
 
 November 11, 1841. 
 
 Looking back two years afterwards on the 
 above-mentioned and other acts, on the part of 
 Anglican ecclesiastical authorities, I observe: 
 ( Many a man might have held an abstract theory 
 about the Catholic Church, to which it was 
 difficult to adjust the Anglican — might have 
 admitted a suspicion, or even painful doubts 
 about the latter — yet never have been impelled 
 onwards, had our rulers preserved the quies- 
 cence of former years; but it is the corrobora- 
 tion of a present, living, and energetic heter- 
 odoxy, which realizes and makes them practical ; 
 it has been the recent speeches and acts of 
 authorities, who had so long been tolerant of 
 
1839 to 1841 165 
 
 Protestant error, which have given to inquiry 
 and to theory its force and its edge.' 
 
 As to the project of a Jerusalem bishopric, I 
 never heard of any good or harm it has ever 
 done, except what it has done for me ; which 
 many think a great misfortune, and I one of 
 the greatest of mercies. It brought me on to 
 the beginning of the end. 
 
HISTORY OF MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 1841 to 1845 
 
 From the end of 1841 , I was on my death-bed 
 as regards my membership with the Anglican 
 Church, though at the time I became aware of 
 it only by degrees. I introduce what I have to 
 say with this remark, by way of accounting for 
 the character of this remaining portion of my 
 narrative. A death-bed has scarcely a history; 
 it is a tedious decline, with seasons of rallying, 
 and seasons of falling back ; and since the end 
 is foreseen, or what is called a matter of time, 
 it has little interest for the reader, especially 
 if he has a kind heart. Moreover, it is a season 
 when doors are closed, and curtains drawn, and 
 when the sick man neither cares nor is able to 
 record the stages of his malady. I was in these 
 circumstances, except so far as I was not allowed 
 to die in peace — except so far as friends, who 
 had still a full right to come in upon me, and 
 the public world, which had not, have given a 
 sort of history to those four last years. But in 
 consequence, my narrative must be in great 
 measure documentary. Letters of mine to friends 
 have come to me since their deaths ; others have 
 been kindly lent me for the occasion; and I 
 have some drafts of letters, and notes of my 
 own, though I have no strictly personal or contin- 
 uous memoranda to consult, and have unluckily 
 mislaid some valuable papers. 
 
1841 to 1845 167 
 
 And first as to my position in the view of 
 duty ; it was this : (l) I had given up my place 
 in the Movement in my letter to the Bishop of 
 Oxford in the spring of 1841 ; but (2) I could 
 not give up my duties towards the many and 
 various minds who had more or less been brought 
 into it by me ; (3) I expected, or intended, grad- 
 ually to fall back into Lay Communion ; (4) I never 
 contemplated leaving the Church of England ; 
 
 (5) I could not hold office in her, if I were not 
 allowed to hold the Catholic sense of the Articles ; 
 
 (6) I could not go to Rome while she suffered 
 honours to be paid to the Blessed Virgin and 
 the Saints which I thought incompatible with 
 the Supreme, Incommunicable Glory of the One 
 Infinite and Eternal ; (7) I desired a union with 
 Rome under conditions, Church with Church ; 
 (8) I called Littlemore my Torres Vedras, and 
 thought that some day we might advance again 
 within the Anglican Church, as we had been 
 forced to retire ; (9) I kept back all persons who 
 were disposed to go to Rome with all my might. 
 
 And I kept them back for three of four reasons ; 
 (1) because what I could not in conscience do 
 myself, I could not suffer them to do ; (2) because 
 I thought that in various cases they were acting 
 under excitement; (3) while I held St Mary's, 
 because I had duties to my Bishop and to the 
 Anglican Church ; and (4), in some cases, because 
 I had received from their Anglican parents or 
 superiors direct charge of them. 
 
 This was my view of my duty from the end 
 of 1841, to my resignation of St Mary's, in the 
 autumn of 1843. And now I shall relate my 
 view, during that time, of the state of the 
 controversy between the Churches. 
 
168 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 As soon as I saw the hitch in the Anglican 
 argument, during my course of reading in the 
 summer of 1839, I began to look about, as I 
 have said, for some ground which might supply 
 a controversial basis for my need. The difficulty 
 in question had affected my view both of Anti- 
 quity and Catholicity; for, while the history of 
 St Leo showed me, that the deliberate and even- 
 tual consent of the great body of the Church 
 ratified a doctrinal decision, it also showed that 
 the rule of Antiquity was not infringed, though 
 a doctrine had not been publicly recognized as 
 a portion of the dogmatic foundation of the 
 Church, till centuries after the time of the 
 Apostles. Thus, whereas the Creeds tell us that 
 the Church is One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic, 
 I could not prove that the Anglican communion 
 was an integral part of the One Church, on the 
 ground of its being Apostolic or Catholic, with- 
 out reasoning in favour of what are commonly 
 called the Roman corruptions ; and I could not 
 defend our separation from Rome without 
 using arguments prejudicial to those great doc- 
 trines concerning our Lord, which are the very 
 foundation of the Christian religion. The Via 
 Media was an impossible idea; it was what I 
 had called e standing on one leg'; and it was 
 necessary, if my old issue of the controversy 
 was to be retained, to go further either one 
 way or the other. 
 
 Accordingly, I abandoned that old ground and 
 took another. I deliberately quitted the old 
 Anglican ground as untenable ; but I did not 
 do so all at once, but as I became more and 
 more convinced of the state of the case. The 
 Jerusalem bishopric was the ultimate condem- 
 
1841 to 1845 169 
 
 nation of the old theory of the Via Media; from 
 that time the Anglican Church was, in my mind, 
 either not a normal portion of that One Church 
 to which the promises were made, or at least in 
 an abnormal state, and from that time I said 
 boldly, as I did in my protest, and as indeed 
 I had even intimated in my letter to the Bishop 
 of Oxford, that the Church in which I found 
 myself had no claim on me, except on condition 
 of its being a portion of the One Catholic Com- 
 munion, and that that condition must ever be 
 borne in mind as a practical matter, and had 
 to be distinctly proved. All this was not inconsist- 
 ent with my saying that, at this time, I had no 
 thought of leaving that Church ; because I felt 
 some of my old objections against Rome as 
 strongly as ever. I had no right, I had no leave, 
 to act against my conscience. That was a higher 
 rule than any argument about the Notes of the 
 Church. 
 
 Under these circumstances I turned for protec- 
 tion to the Note of Sanctity, with a view of 
 showing that we had at least one of the necess- 
 ary Notes, as fully as the Church of Rome ; or, 
 at least, without entering into comparisons, that 
 we had it in such a sufficient sense as to reconcile 
 us to our position, and to supply full evidence, 
 and a clear direction, on the point of practical 
 duty. We had the Note of Life— not any sort 
 of life, not such only as can come of nature, but 
 a supernatural Christian life, which could only 
 come directly from above. In my article in The 
 British Critic, to which I have so often referred, 
 in January 1840 (before the time of Tract 90), 
 I said of the Anglican Church, that 'she has 
 the note of possession, the note of freedom 
 
170 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 from party titles, the note of life — a tough life 
 and a vigorous ; she has ancient descent, un- 
 broken continuance, agreement in doctrine with 
 the Ancient Church/ Presently I go on to speak 
 of sanctity: 'Much as Roman Catholics may 
 denounce us at present as schismatical, they 
 could not resist us if the Anglican communion 
 had but that one note of the Church upon it — 
 Sanctity. The Church of the day (4th century) 
 could not resist Meletius; his enemies were 
 fairly overcome by him, by his meekness and 
 holiness, which melted the most jealous of them.' 
 And I continue: f We are almost content to say 
 to Romanists, account us not yet as a branch 
 of the Catholic Church, though we be a branch, 
 till we are like a branch, provided that when 
 we do become like a branch, then you consent 
 to acknowledge us' etc. And so I was led on 
 in the article to that sharp attack on English 
 Catholics for their shortcomings as regards this 
 Note, a good portion of which I have already 
 quoted in another place. It is there, that I 
 speak of the great scandal which I took at their 
 political, social, and controversial bearing; and 
 this was a second reason why I fell back upon 
 the Note of Sanctity, because it took me away 
 from the necessity of making any attack upon 
 the doctrines of the Roman Church, nay, from 
 the consideration of her popular beliefs, and 
 brought me upon a ground on which I felt I 
 could not make a mistake ; for what is a higher 
 guide for us in speculation and in practice, than 
 that conscience of right and wrong, of truth 
 and falsehood, those sentiments of what is decor- 
 ous, consistent, and noble, which our Creator has 
 made a part of our original nature? Therefore 
 
1841 to 1845 171 
 
 I felt I could not be wrong in attacking what 
 I fancied was a fact — the uncrupulousness, the 
 deceit, and the intriguing spirit of the agents 
 and representatives of Rome. 
 
 This reference to Holiness as the true test of 
 a Church was steadily kept in view in what I 
 wrote in connexion with Tract 90. I say in its 
 Introduction: 'The writer can never be party 
 to forcing the opinions or projects of one school 
 upon another; religious changes should be the 
 act of the whole body. No good can come of 
 a change which is not a development of feelings 
 springing up freely and calmly within the bosom 
 of the whole body itself; every change in religion ' 
 must be 'attended by deep repentance; changes' 
 must be 'nurtured in mutual love; we cannot 
 agree without a supernatural influence ' ; we must 
 come 'together to God to do for us what we 
 cannot do for ourselves'. In my letter to the 
 Bishop I said: 'I have set myself against sug- 
 gestions for considering the differences between 
 ourselves and the foreign Churches with a view 
 to their adjustment.' (I meant in the way of 
 negotiation, conference, agitation, or the like.) 
 'Our business is with ourselves— to make our- 
 selves more holy, more self-denying, more prim- 
 itive, more worthy of our high calling. To be 
 anxious for a composition of differences is to 
 begin at the end. Political reconciliations are 
 but outward and hollow, and fallacious. And 
 till Roman Catholics renounce political efforts, 
 and manifest in their public measures the light 
 of holiness and truth, perpetual war is our only 
 prospect' 
 
 According to this theory, a religious body is 
 part of the One Catholic and Apostolic Church, 
 
 ) 
 
172 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 if it has the succession and the creed of the 
 Apostles, with the note of holiness of life ; and 
 there is much in such a view to approve itself 
 to the direct common sense and practical habits 
 of an Englishman. However, with events con- 
 sequent upon Tract 90, I sunk my theory to 
 a lower level. What could be said in apology, 
 when the bishops and the people of my Church, 
 not only did not suffer, but actually rejected 
 primitive Catholic doctrine, and tried to eject 
 from their communion all who held it? after 
 the bishops* charges? — after the Jerusalem 
 e abomination ? ' — Well, this could be said; still 
 we were not nothing : we could not be as if we 
 never had been a Church; we were ' Samaria*. 
 This then was that lower level on which I 
 placed myself, and all who felt with me, at 
 the end of 1841. 
 
 To bring out this view was the purpose of 
 four sermons preached at St Mary's in Decem- 
 ber of that year. Hitherto I had not introduced 
 the exciting topics of the day into the pulpit; 
 on this occasion I did. I did so, for the moment 
 was urgent; there was great unsettlement of 
 mind among us, in consequence of those same 
 events which had unsettled me. One special 
 anxiety, very obvious, which was coming on me 
 now, was, that what was 'one man's meat was 
 another man's poison'. I had said, even,of Tract 90, 
 ' It was addressed to one set of persons, and has 
 been used and commented on by another ' ; still 
 more was it true now, that whatever I wrote for 
 the service of those whom I knew to be in trouble 
 of mind, would become on the one hand matter 
 of suspicion and slander in the mouths of my 
 opponents, and of distress and surprise to those 
 
1841 to 1845 173 
 
 on the other hand, who had no difficulties of 
 faith at all. Accordingly, when I published these 
 Four Sermons, at the end of 1 843, I introduced 
 them with a recommendation that none should 
 read them who did not need them. But in truth, 
 the virtual condemndation of Tract 90, after 
 that the whole difficulty seemed to have been 
 weathered, was an enormous disappointment and 
 trial. My protest also against the Jerusalem 
 bishopric was an unavoidable cause of excitement 
 in the case of many; but it calmed them too, 
 for the very fact of a protest was a relief to 
 their impatience. And so, in like manner, as 
 regards the Four Sermons of which I speak, 
 though they acknowledged freely the great scan- 
 dal which was involved in the recent episcopal 
 doings, yet at the same time they might be 
 said to bestow upon the multiplied disorders 
 and shortcomings of the Anglican Church, a sort 
 of place in the Revealed Dispensation, and an 
 intellectual position in the controversy, and the 
 dignity of a great principle, for unsettled minds 
 to take and use, which might teach them to 
 recognize their own consistency, and to be re- 
 conciled to themselves, and which might absorb 
 into itself and dry up a multitude of their grudg- 
 ings, discontents, misgivings, and questionings, 
 and lead the way to humble, thankful, and 
 tranquil thoughts — and this was the effect which 
 certainly it produced on myself. 
 
 The point of these Sermons is, that, in spite 
 of the rigid character of the Jewish law, the 
 formal and literal force of its precepts, and the 
 manifest schism, and worse than schism, of the 
 Ten Tribes, yet, in fact, they were still recognized 
 as a people by the Divine Mercy ; that the great 
 
174 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 prophets Elias and Eliseus were sent to them, 
 and not only so, but sent to preach to them 
 and reclaim them, without any intimation that 
 they must be reconciled to the line of David and 
 the Aaronic priesthood, or go up to Jerusalem 
 to worship. They were not in the Church, yet 
 they had the means of grace and the hope of 
 acceptance with their Maker. The application 
 of all this to the Anglican Church was immediate ; 
 whether a man could assume or exercise min- 
 isterial functions under the circumstances, or 
 not, might not clearly appear, though it must be 
 remembered that England had the Apostolic 
 Priesthood, whereas Israel had no priesthood 
 at all ; but so far was clear, that there was no 
 call at all for an Anglican to leave his Church 
 for Rome, though he did not believe his own 
 to be part of the One Church — and for this 
 reason, because it was a fact that the kingdom 
 of Israel was cut off from the temple; and yet 
 its subjects, neither in a mass, nor as individuals, 
 neither the multitudes on Mount Carmel, nor 
 the Shunammite and her household, had any 
 command given them, though miracles were 
 displayed before them, to break off from their 
 own people, and to submit themselves to Judah *. 
 It is plain, that a theory such as this, whether 
 the marks of a divine presence and life in the 
 Anglican Church were sufficient to prove that 
 she was actually within the covenant, or only 
 sufficient to prove that she was at least enjoying 
 
 * As I am not writing controversially, I will only here 
 remark upon this argument, that there is a great differ- 
 ence between a command, which implies physical condi- 
 tions, and one which is moral. To go to Jerusalem was, 
 a matter of the body, not of the soul. 
 
1841 to 1845 175 
 
 extraordinary and uncovenanted mercies, not only 
 lowered her level in a religious point of view, 
 but weakened her controversial basis. Its very 
 novelty made it suspicious ; and there was no 
 guarantee that the process of subsidence might 
 not continue, and that it might not end in a 
 submersion. Indeed, to many minds, to say that 
 England was wrong was even to say that Rome 
 was right ; and no ethical reasoning whatever 
 could overcome in their case the argument from 
 prescription and authority. To this objection I 
 could only answer, that I did not make my cir- 
 cumstances. I fully acknowledged the force and 
 effectiveness of the genuine Anglican theory, and 
 that it was all but proof against the disputants of 
 Rome ; but still like Achilles, it had a vulnerable 
 point, and that St Leo had found it out for me, 
 and that I could not help it; that, were it not 
 for matter of fact, the theory would be great 
 indeed, it would be irresistible, if it were only 
 true. When I became a Catholic, the editor of 
 a magazine who had in former days accused me, 
 to my indignation, of tending towards Rome, 
 wrote to me to ask, which of the two was now 
 right, he or I ? I answered him in a letter, part 
 of which I here insert, as it will serve as a sort 
 of leave-taking of the great theory, which is so 
 specious to look upon, so difficult to prove, and 
 so hopeless to work. 
 
 Nov. 8, 1845. I do not think, at all more than I did, 
 that the Anglican principles which I advocated at the 
 date you mention, lead men to the Chnrch of Borne. If 
 I must specify what I mean by 'Anglican principles', I 
 should say, e. g. taking Antiquity, not the existing Church, 
 as the oracle of truth; and holding that the Apostolical 
 Succession is a sufficient guarantee of Sacramental Grace, 
 without union with the Christian Church throughout the 
 
176 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 world. I think these still the firmest, strongest ground 
 against Eome — that is, if they can be held. They have 
 been held by many, and are far more difficult to refute 
 in the Eoman controversy, than those of any other religi- 
 ous body. 
 
 For myself, I found / could not hold them. I left them. 
 From the time I began to suspect their unsoundness, I 
 ceased to put them forward. When I was fairly sure of 
 their unsoundness, I gave up my Living. When I was 
 fully confident that the Church of Rome was the only 
 true Church, I joined her. 
 
 I have felt all along that Bp. Bull's theology was the 
 only theology on which the English Church conld stand. 
 I have felt, that opposition to the Church of Rome was 
 part of that theology; and that he who could not protest 
 against the Church of Rome was no true divine in the 
 English Church. I have never said, nor attempted to 
 say, that any one in office in the English Church, whether 
 bishop or incumbent, could be otherwise than in hostil- 
 ity to the Church of Rome. 
 
 The Via Media then disappeared for ever, and 
 a new theory, made expressly for the occasion, 
 took its place. I was pleased with my new 
 view. I wrote to an intimate friend, Dec. 13, 
 1841: 'I think you will give me the credit, 
 Carissime, of not undervaluing the strength of 
 the feelings which draw one (to Rome), and yet 
 I am (I trust) quite clear about my duty to 
 remain where I am ; indeed, much clearer than 
 I was some time since. If it is not presumptu- 
 ous to say, I have . . a much more definite 
 view of the promised inward Presence of Christ 
 with us in the sacraments now that the out- 
 ward notes of it are being removed. And I 
 am content to be with Moses in the desert, or 
 with Elijah excommunicated from the Temple. 
 I say this, putting things at the strongest.' 
 
 However, my friends of the moderate Apostol- 
 ical party, who were my friends for the very 
 reason of my having been so moderate and 
 
1841 to 1845 177 
 
 Anglican myself in general tone in times past; 
 who had stood up for Tract 90 partly from faith 
 in me, and certainly from generous and kind 
 feeling, and had thereby shared an obloquy 
 which was none of theirs, were naturally surprised 
 and offended at a line of argument, novel, and, 
 as it appeared to them, wanton, which threw 
 the whole controversy into confusion, stultified 
 my former principles, and substituted, as they 
 would consider, a sort of methodistic self-con- 
 templation, especially abhorrent both to my 
 nature and to my past professions, for the plain 
 and honest tokens, as they were commonly 
 received, of a divine mission in the Anglican 
 Church. They could not tell whither I was 
 going; and were still further annoyed, when I 
 would view the reception of Tract 90 by the 
 public and the Bishops as so grave a matter, 
 and threw about what they considered mysterious 
 hints of c eventualities ', and would not simply 
 say : e An Anglican I was born, and an Anglican 
 I will die. ' One of my familiar friends, who 
 was in the country at Christmas, 1841-2, re- 
 ported to me the feeling that prevailed about 
 me ; and how I felt towards it will appear 
 in the following letter of mine, written in 
 answer : 
 
 Oriel, Dec. 24, 1841. Carissime, yon cannot tell how 
 sad yonr acconnt of Moberly has made me. His view 
 of the sinfulness of the decrees of Trent is as much 
 against union of Churches as against individual conver- 
 sions. To tell the truth, I never have examined those 
 decrees with this object, and have no view; but that is 
 very different from having a deliberate view against them. 
 Gould not he say which they are? I suppose Transubstantia- 
 tion is one. A. B., though of course he would not like 
 to have it repeated, does not scruple at that. I have not 
 my mind clear. Moberly must recollect that Palmer 
 
 12 
 
178 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 thinks they all bear a Catholic interpretation. For my- 
 self, this only I see, that there is indefinitely more in 
 the Fathers against our own state ot alienation from 
 Christendom than against the Tridentine Decrees. 
 
 The only thing I can think of (that I can 
 have said) is this, that there were persons who, 
 if our Church committed herself to heresy, sooner 
 than think that there was no Church anywhere, 
 would believe the Roman to be the Church ; 
 and therefore would on faith accept what they 
 could not otherwise acquiesce in. 
 
 I suppose, it would be no relief to him to insist upon 
 the circumstance that there is no immediate danger. 
 Individuals can never be answered for of course; but I 
 should think lightly of that man who, for some act of 
 the bishops, should all at once leave the Church. Now, 
 considering how the clergy really are improving, con- 
 sidering that this row is even making them read the 
 Tracts, is it not possible we may all be in a better state 
 of mind seven years hence to consider these matters? 
 And may we not leave them meanwhile to the will of 
 Providence? I cannot believe this work has been ot man; 
 God has a right to His own work, to do what He will 
 with it. May we not try to leave it in His hands, and 
 be content? 
 
 If you learn anything about Barter, which leads you 
 to think that I can relieve him by a letter, let me know. 
 The truth is this — our good friends do not read the 
 Fathers; they assent to us from the common sense of the 
 case: then, when the Fathers, and we, say more than 
 their common sense, they are dreadfully shocked. 
 
 The Bishop of London has rejected a man, (1), For 
 holding any Sacrifice in the Eucharist, (2), The Ileal 
 Presence, (3), That there is a grace in Ordination *. 
 
 Are we quite sure that the bishops will not be drawing 
 up some stringent declarations of faith? Is this what 
 Moberly fears? Would the Bishop of Oxford accept them? 
 
 * I cannot prove this at this distance of time ; but I 
 do not think it wrong to introduce here the passage 
 containing it, as I am imputing to the Bishop nothing 
 which the world would think disgraceful, but, on the 
 contrary, what a large religious body would approve. 
 
1841 to 1845 179 
 
 If so, I should be driven into the Refuge for the 
 Destitute (Littlemore). But I promise JMoberly, I would 
 do my utmost to catch all dangerous persons and clap 
 them into confinement there. 
 
 Christmas Day, 1841. I have been dreaming of Moberly 
 all night. Should not he and the like see, that it is un- 
 wise, unfair, and impatient to ask others, What will you 
 do under circumstances, which have not, which may never 
 come? Why bring fear, suspicion, and disunion into the 
 camp about things which are merely in posse ? Natural, 
 and exceedingly kind as Barter's and another friend's 
 letters were, I think they have done great harm. I speak 
 most sincerely when I say, that there are things which I 
 neither contemplate, nor wish to contemplate; but, when 
 I am asked about them ten times, at length I begin to 
 contemplate them. 
 
 He surely does not mean to say, that nothing could 
 separate a man from the English Church, e. g. its avowing 
 Socinianism; its holding the Holy Eucharist in a Socinian 
 sense. Yet, he would say, it was not right to contemplate 
 such things. 
 
 Again, our case is (diverging) from that of Ken's. To 
 say nothing of the last miserable century, which has 
 given us, to start from, a much lower level, and with much 
 less to spare, than a Churchman in the 17th century, 
 questions of doctrine are now coining in; with him, it 
 was a question of discipline. 
 
 If such dreadful events were realized, I cannot help 
 thinking we should all be vastly more agreed than we 
 think now. Indeed, is it possible j humanly speaking) that 
 those, who have so much the same heart, should widely 
 differ? But let this be considered, as to alternatives. 
 What communion could we join? Could the Scotch or 
 American sanction the presence of its Bishops and congre- 
 gations in England, without incurring the imputation of 
 schism, unless indeed (and is that likely?) they denounced 
 the English as heretical? 
 
 Is not this a time of strange providences? Is it not our 
 safest course, without looking to consequences, to do 
 simply what we think right, day by day? shall we not be 
 sure to go wrong, if we attempt to trace by anticipation 
 the course of divine Providence? 
 
 Has not all our misery, as a Church, arisen from people 
 being afraid to look difficulties in the face? They have 
 palliated acts, when they should have denounced them. 
 There is that good fellow, Worcester Palmer, can white- 
 
180 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 wash the Ecclesiastical Commission and the Jerusalem 
 Bishopric. And what is the consequence? That our Church 
 has, through centuries, ever been sinking lower and 
 lower, till good part of its pretensions and professions 
 is a mere sham, though it be a duty to make the best 
 of what we have received. Yet, though bound to make 
 the best of other men s shams, let us not incur any of 
 our own. The truest friends of our Church are they 
 who say boldly when her rulers are going wrong, and 
 the consequences; and (to speak catachrestically) they are 
 most likely to die in the Church, who are, under these 
 black circumstances, most prepared to leave it. 
 
 And I will add, that, considering the traces of God's 
 grace which surround us, I am very sanguine, or rather 
 confident, (if it is right so to speak,) that our prayers and 
 our alms will come up as a memorial before God, and 
 that all this miserable confusion tends to good. 
 
 Let us not then be anxious, and anticipate differences 
 in prospect, when we agree in the present. 
 
 P.S. I think, when friends {i. e. the extreme party) get 
 over their first unsettlement of mind and consequent 
 vague apprehensions, which the new attitude of the 
 Bishops, and our feelings upon it, have brought about, 
 they will get contented and satisfied. They will see that 
 they exaggerated things. . . Of course it, would have been 
 wrong to anticipate what one's feelings would be under 
 such a painful contingency as the Bishops' charging as 
 they have done— so it seems to me nobody's fault. Nor 
 is it wonderful that others (moderate men) are startled 
 (i. e. at my Protest, etc. etc.); yet they should recollect 
 that the more implicit the reverence one pays to a bishop, 
 the more keen will be one's perception of heresy in him. 
 The cord is binding and compelling, till it snaps. 
 
 Men of reflection would have seen this, if they had 
 looked that way. Last spring, a very high churchman 
 talked to me of resisting my Bishop, of asking him for 
 the Canons under which he acted, and so forth; but those, 
 who have cultivated a loyal feeling towards their superiors, 
 are the most loving servants, or the most zealous pro- 
 testors. If others became so too, if the clergy of Chester 
 denounced the heresy of their diocesan, they would be 
 doing their duty, and relieving themselves of the share 
 which they otherwise have in any possible defection of 
 their brethren. 
 
 St. Stephen's [December 26]. How I fidget! I now fear 
 that the note I wrote yesterday only makes matters worse 
 
1841 to 1845 181 
 
 by disclosing too much. This is always my great difficulty 
 In the present state of excitement on both sides, I 
 think of leaving out altogether my reassertion of No. 90 
 in my preface to Volume 6, and merely saying. 'As many 
 false reports are at this time in circulation about him, 
 he hopes his well-wishers will take this volume as an 
 indication of his real thoughts and feelings: thoso who 
 are not, he leaves in God's hands to bring them to a 
 better mind in His own time.' What do you say to the 
 logic, sentiment, and propriety of this? 
 
 There was one very old friend, at a distance 
 from Oxford, afterwards a Catholic, now dead 
 some years, who must have said something to 
 me, I do not know what, which challenged a 
 frank reply; for I disclosed to him, I do not 
 know in what words, my frightful suspicion, 
 hitherto only known to two persons, that, as 
 regards my Anglicanism, perhaps I might break 
 down in the event, that perhaps we were both 
 out of the Church. He answered me thus, 
 under date of Jan. 29, 1842: 
 
 I don't think that I ever was so shocked by any com- 
 munication, which was ever made to me, as by your 
 letter of this morning. It has quite unnerved me. . . I 
 cannot but write to you, though I am at a loss where to 
 begin. . . I know of no act by which we have dissevered 
 ourselves from the communion of the Church Universal. . . 
 The more I study Scripture, the more am I impressed 
 with the resemblance between the Eomish principle in 
 the Church and the Babylon of St John. . . I am ready to 
 grieve that I ever directed my thoughts to theology, if 
 it is indeed so uncertain, as your doubts seem to indicate. 
 
 While my old and true friends were thus in 
 trouble about me, I suppose they felt not only 
 anxiety but pain, to see that I was gradually 
 surrendering myself to the influence of others, 
 who had not their own claims upon me, younger 
 men, and of a cast of mind uncongenial to my 
 own. A new school of thought was rising, as 
 
182 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 is usual in such movements, and was sweeping 
 the original party of the movement aside, and 
 was taking its place. The most prominent 
 person in it was a man of elegant genius, of 
 classical mind, of rare talent in literary composi- 
 tion — Mr. Oakeley. He was not far from my 
 own age ; I had long known him, though of 
 late years he had not been in residence at Ox- 
 ford ; and quite lately he has been faking 
 several signal occasions of renewing that kind- 
 ness, which he ever showed towards me when 
 we were both in the Anglican Church. His 
 tone of mind was not unlike, which gave a 
 character to the early movement ; he was almost 
 a typical Oxford man, and, as far as I recollect, 
 both in political and ecclesiastical views, would 
 have been of one spirit with the Oriel party 
 of 1826 — 33. But he had entered late into the 
 Movement ; he did not know its first years ; 
 and, beginning with a new start, he was naturally 
 thrown together with that body of eager, acute, 
 resolute minds who had begun their Catholic 
 life about the same time as he, who knew 
 nothing about the Via Media, but had heard 
 much about Rome. This new party rapidly formed 
 and increased, in and out of Oxford, and, as it 
 so happened, contemporaneously with that very 
 summer, when I received so serious a blow to 
 my ecclesiastical views from the study of the 
 Monophysite controversy. These men cut into 
 the original Movement at an angle, fell across 
 its line of thought, and then set about turning 
 that line in its own direction. They were most 
 of them keenly religious men, with a true 
 concern for their souls as the first matter of 
 all, with a great zeal for rae ? but giving little 
 
1841 to 1845 183 
 
 certainty at the time as to which way they 
 would ultimately turn. Some, in the event, 
 have remained firm to Anglicanism, some have 
 become Catholics, and some have found a 
 refuge in Liberalism. Nothing was clearer 
 concerning them than that they needed to 
 be kept in order; and on me who had had 
 so much to do with the making of them, 
 that duty was as clearly incumbent; and it 
 is equally clear, from what I have already said, 
 that I was just the person, above all others, who 
 could not undertake it. There are no friends like 
 old friends ; but of those old friends, few could 
 help me, few could understand me, many were 
 annoyed with me, some were angry, because I 
 was breaking up a compact party, and some, as 
 a matter of conscience, could not listen to me. 
 I said, bitterly, £ You are throwing me on others, 
 whether I will or no.' Yet still I had good and 
 true friends around me of the old sort, in and 
 out of Oxford too. But, on the other hand, 
 though I neither was so fond of the persons, 
 nor of the methods of thought, which belonged 
 to this new school, excepting two of three men, 
 as of the old set ; though I could not trust in 
 their firmness of purpose, for, like a swarm of 
 flies, they might come and go, and at length 
 be divided and dissipated, yet I had an intense 
 sympathy in their object, and in the direction 
 of their path, in spite of my old friends, in spite 
 of my old life-long prejudices. In spite of my 
 ingrained fears of Rome, and the decision of 
 my reason and conscience against her usages, 
 in spite of my affection for Oxford and Oriel, 
 yet I had a secret, longing love of Rome, the 
 mother of English Christianity, and I had a 
 
184 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 true devotion to the Blessed Virgin, in whose 
 College I lived, whose Altar I served, and whose 
 Immaculate Purity I had in one of my earliest 
 printed sermons made much of. And it was the 
 consciousness of this bias in myself, if it is so to 
 be called, which made me preach so earnestly 
 against the danger of being swayed by our sym- 
 pathy, rather than our reason, in religious inquiry. 
 And, moreover, the members of this new school 
 looked up to me, as I have said, and did me 
 true kindnesses, and really loved me, and stood 
 by me in trouble, when others went away, and 
 for all this I was grateful ; nay, many of them 
 were in trouble themselves, and in the same 
 boat with me, and that was a further cause of 
 sympathy between us ; and hence it was, when 
 the new school came on in force, and into 
 collision with the old, I had not the heart, any 
 more than the power, to repel them ; I was in 
 great perplexity, and hardly knew where I stood ; 
 I took their part; and, when I wanted to be 
 in peace and silence, I had to speak out, and 
 I incurred the charge of weakness from some 
 men, and of mysteriousness, shuffling, and under- 
 hand dealing from the majority. 
 
 Now I will say here frankly, that this sort of 
 charge is a matter which I cannot properly meet, 
 because I cannot duly realize it. I have never 
 had any suspicion of my own honesty ; and, when 
 men say that I was dishonest, I cannot grasp 
 the accusation as a distinct conception, such as 
 it is possible to encounter. If a man said to 
 me, 'On such a day, and before such persons 
 you said a thing was white, when it was black ', 
 I understand what is meant well enough, and 
 I can set myself to prove an alibi, or to explain 
 
1841 to 1845 185 
 
 the mistake ; or if a man said to me, ' You tried 
 to gain me over to your party, intending to 
 take me with you to Rome, but you did not 
 succeed ', I can give him the lie, and lay down 
 an assertion of my own, as firm and as exact as 
 his, that never, from the time that I was first 
 unsettled, did I ever attempt to gain anyone 
 over to myself, or to my Romanizing opinions, 
 and that it is only his own coxcombical fancy 
 which has bred such a thought in him : but my 
 imagination is at a loss in presence of those 
 vague charges, which have commonly been 
 brought against me, charges, which are made 
 up of impressions, and understandings, and infer- 
 ences, and hearsay, and surmises. Accordingly, 
 I shall not make the attempt, for, in doing so, 
 I should be dealing blows in the air; what I 
 shall attempt is to state what I know of my- 
 self, and what I recollect, and leave its applica- 
 tion to others. 
 
 While I had confidence in the Via Media, 
 and thought that nothing could overset it, I 
 did not mind laying down large principles, 
 which I saw would go further than was commonly 
 perceived. I considered, that to make the Via 
 Media concrete and substantive, it must be much 
 more than it was in outline; that the Anglican 
 Church must have a ceremonial, a ritual, and 
 a fulness of doctrine and devotion, which it 
 had not at present, if it were to compete with 
 the Roman Church with any prospect of success. 
 Such additions would not remove it from its 
 proper basis, but would merely strengthen and 
 beautify it : such, for instance, would be con- 
 fraternities, particular devotions, reverence for 
 the Blessed Virgin, prayers for the dead, beautiful 
 
186 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 churches, rich offerings to them and in them, 
 monastic houses, and many other observances 
 and institutions, which I used to say belonged 
 to us as much as to Rome, though Rome had 
 appropriated them, and boasted of them, by 
 reason of our having let them slip from us. 
 The principle, on which all this turned, is 
 brought out in one of the letters I published 
 on occasion of Trad 90. 'The age is moving', 
 I said, ' towards something ; and most unhappily 
 the one religious communion among us, which 
 has of late years been practically in possession 
 of this something, is the Church of Rome. She 
 alone, amid all the errors and evils of her 
 practical system, has given free scope to the 
 feelings of awe, mystery, tenderness, reverence, 
 devotedness, and other feelings which may be 
 especially called Catholic. The question then 
 is, whether we shall give them up to the Roman 
 Church or claim them for ourselves. . . But if 
 we do give them up, we must give up the men 
 who cherish them. We must consent either to 
 give up the men, or to admit their principles.' 
 With these feelings, I frankly admit, that, while 
 I was working simply for the sake of the An- 
 glican Church, I did not at all mind, though I 
 found myself lay ing down principles in its defence, 
 which went beyond that particular defence 
 which high-and-dry men thought perfection, and 
 though I ended in framing a sort of defence, 
 which they might call a revolution, while I 
 thought it a restoration. Thus, for illustration, 
 I might discourse upon the ( Communion of Saints' 
 in such a manner (though I do not recollect 
 doing so) as might lead the way towards devotion 
 to the Blessed Virgin and the saints on the one 
 
1841 to 1845 , 187 
 
 hand, and towards prayers for the dead on the 
 other. In a memorandum of the year 1844 or 
 1845, I thus speak on this subject: ' If the Church 
 be not defended on establishment grounds, it 
 must be upon principles, which go far beyond 
 their immediate object. Sometimes I saw these 
 further results, sometimes not. Though I saw 
 them, I sometimes did not say that I saw them ; 
 so long as I thought they were inconsistent, not 
 with our Church, but only with the existing 
 opinions, I was not unwilling to insinuate truths 
 into our Church, which I thought had a right 
 to be there.' 
 
 To so much I confess; but I do not confess, 
 I simply deny, that I ever said any thing which 
 secretly bore against the Church of England, 
 knowing it myself, in order that others might 
 unwarily accept it. It was, indeed, one of my 
 great difficulties and causes of reserve, as time 
 went on, that I at length recognized in principles, 
 which I had honestly preached as if Anglican, 
 conclusions favourable to the Roman Church. 
 Of course I did not like to confess this ; and, 
 when interrogated, was in consequence in per- 
 plexity. The prime instance of this was the 
 appeal to Antiquity ; St Leo had overset, in my 
 own judgment, its force in the special argument 
 for Anglicanism: yet I was committed to Anti- 
 quity, together with the whole Anglican school ; 
 what then was I to say, when acute minds urged 
 this or that application of it against the Via 
 Media ? It was impossible that, in such circum- 
 stances, any answer could be given which was 
 not unsatisfactory, or any behaviour adopted 
 which was not mysterious. Again, sometimes 
 in what I wrote ; I went just as far as I saw, 
 
188 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 and could as little say more, as I could see 
 what is below the horizon ; and therefore, when 
 asked as to the consequences of what I had 
 said, had no answer to give. Again, sometimes 
 when I was asked, whether certain conclusions 
 did not follow from a certain principle, I might 
 not be able to tell at the moment, especially 
 if the matter were complicated; and for this 
 reason, if for no other, because there is great 
 difference between a conclusion in the abstract 
 and a conclusion in the concrete, and because 
 a conclusion may be modified in fact by a 
 conclusion from some opposite principle. Or it 
 might so happen, that I got simply confused 
 by the very clearness of the logic which was 
 administered to me, and thus gave my sanction 
 to conclusions which really were not mine ; and 
 when the report of those conclusions came round 
 to me through others, I had to unsay them. 
 And then, again, perhaps I did not like to see 
 men scared or scandalized by unfeeling logical 
 inferences, which would not have touched them 
 to the day of their death, had they not been 
 made to eat them. And then I felt altogether' 
 the force of the maxim of St Ambrose, f Non 
 in dialectica complacuit Deo salvum facere pop- 
 ulum suum ' — I had a great dislike of paper logic. 
 For myself, it was not logic, then, that carried 
 me on; as well might one say that the quick- 
 silver in the barometer changes the weather. 
 It is the concrete being that reasons; pass a 
 number of years, and I find my mind in a new 
 place ; how ? the whole man moves ; paper logic 
 is but the record of it. All the logic in the 
 world would not have made me move faster 
 towards Rome than I did ; as well might you 
 
1841 to 1845 189 
 
 say that I have arrived at the end of my jour- 
 ney, because I see the village church before 
 me, as venture to assert that the miles, over 
 which my soul had to pass before it got to 
 Rome, could be annihilated, even though I 
 had had some far clearer view than I then had, 
 that Rome was my ultimate destination. Great 
 acts take time. At least, this is what I felt in 
 my own case; and therefore to come to me 
 with methods of logic had in it the nature of 
 a provocation, and, though I do not think I 
 ever showed it, made me somewhat indifferent 
 how I met them, and perhaps led me, as a 
 means of relieving my impatience, to be mysteri- 
 ous or irrelevant, or to give in because I could 
 not reply. And a greater trouble still than these 
 logical mazes, was the introduction of logic into 
 every subject whatever, so far, that is, as it 
 was done. Before I was at Oriel, I recollect 
 an acquaintance saying to me, that 'the Oriel 
 common-room stank of logic'. One is not 
 at all pleased when poetry, or eloquence, or 
 devotion, is considered as if chiefly intended to 
 feed syllogisms. Now, in saying all this, I am 
 saying nothing against the deep piety and 
 earnestness which were characteristics of this 
 second phase of the Movement, in which I 
 have taken so prominent a part. What I have 
 been observing is, that this phase had a tendency 
 to bewilder and to upset me, and, that instead 
 of saying so, as I ought to have done, in a sort 
 of easiness, for what I know, I gave answers 
 at random which have led to my appearing 
 close or inconsistent. 
 
 I have turned up two letters of this period, 
 which in a measure illustrate what I have been 
 
190 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 saying. The first is what I said to the Bishop 
 of Oxford on occasion of Tract 90: 
 
 March 20, 1841. No one can enter into my situation 
 bnt myself. I see a great many minds working in various 
 directions, and a variety of principles with multiplied 
 bearings; I act for the best. I sincerely think that 
 matters would not have gone better for the Church, had 
 I never written. And if I write, I have a choice of diffi- 
 culties. It is easy for those who do not enter into those 
 difficulties to say, 'He ought to say this and not say 
 that', but things are wonderfully linked together, and I 
 cannot, or rather I would not be dishonest. When per- 
 sons, too, interrogate me, I am obliged in many cases to 
 give an opinion, or I seem to be underhand. Keeping 
 silence looks like artifice. And I do not like people to 
 consult or respect me, from thinking differently of my 
 opinions from what I know them to be. And (again to 
 use the proverb) what is one man's food is another man's 
 poison. All these things make my situation very difficult. 
 But that collision must at some time ensue between mem- 
 bers of the Church of opposite sentiments, I have long 
 been aware. The time, and mode, has been in the hand 
 of Providence; I do not mean to exclude my own great 
 imperfections in bringing it about ; yet I still feel obliged 
 to think the Tract necessary. 
 
 Dr. Pusey has shown me your Lordship's letters to 
 him. I am most desirous of saying in print anything 
 which I can honestly say to remove false impressions 
 created by the Tract. 
 
 The second is part of the notes of a letter 
 sent to Dr Pusey in the next year: 
 
 October 16, 1842. As to my being entirely with A. B., 
 I do not know the limits of my own opinions. If A. B., 
 says, that this or that is a development from what I have 
 said, I cannot say Yes, or No. It is plausible, it may be 
 true. Of course the fact that the Eoman Church has so 
 developed and maintained, adds great weight to the 
 antecedent plausibility. I cannot assert that it is not 
 true; but I cannot, with that keen perception which some 
 people have, appropriate it. It is a nuisance to me to 
 be forced beyond what I can fairly accept. 
 
 There was another source of the perplexity 
 with which at this time I was encompassed, and 
 
1841 to 1845 191 
 
 of the reserve and mysteriousness, of which it 
 gave me the credit. After Tract 90, the Protestant 
 world would not let me alone ; they pursued me 
 in the public journals to Littlemore. Reports of 
 all kinds were circulated about me. ( Imprimis, 
 why did I go up to Littlemore at all? For no 
 good purpose certainly; I dared not tell why/ 
 Why, to be sure, it was hard that I should be 
 obliged to say to the editors of newspapers that 
 I went up there to say my prayers ; it was hard 
 to have to tell the world in confidence, that I 
 had a certain doubt about the Anglican system, 
 and could not at that moment resolve it, or say 
 what would come of it ; it was hard to have to 
 confess, that I had thought of giving up my 
 living a year or two before, and that this was 
 a first step to it. It was hard to have to plead, 
 that, for what I knew, my doubts would vanish, 
 if the newspapers would be so good as to give 
 me time and let me alone. Who would ever 
 dream of making the world his confidant? Yet 
 I was considered insidious, sly, dishonest, if I 
 would not open my heart to the tender mercies 
 of the world. But they persisted : ' What was I 
 doing at Littlemore?' Doing there? — have I 
 not retreated from you? have I not given up 
 my position and my place? Am I alone, of 
 Englishmen, not to have the privilege to go 
 where I will, no questions asked ? — am I alone 
 to be followed about by jealous prying eyes, 
 who note down whether I go in at a back door 
 or at the front, and who the men are who 
 happen to call on me in the afternoon ? Cowards ! 
 if I advanced one step, you would run away ; it 
 is not you that I fear : ' Di me terrent, et Jupiter 
 hostis.' It is because the bishops still go on 
 
192 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 charging against me, though I have quite given 
 up: it is that secret misgiving of heart which 
 tells me that they (Jo well, for I have neither 
 lot not part with them : this it is which weighs 
 me down. I cannot walk into or out of my house, 
 but curious eyes are upon me. Why will you not 
 let me die in peace ? Wounded brutes creep into 
 some hole to die in, and no one grudges it them. 
 Let me alone, I shall not trouble you long. This 
 was the keen heavy feeling which pierced me, 
 and, I think, these are the very words that I 
 used to myself. I asked, in the words of a great 
 motto, ( Ubi lapsus ? quid feci ? ' One day, when 
 I entered my house, I found a flight of under- 
 graduates inside. Heads of Houses, as mounted 
 patrols, walked their horses round those poor 
 cottages. Doctors of Divinity dived into the 
 hidden recesses of that private tenement un- 
 invited, and drew domestic conclusions from what 
 they saw there. I had thought that an English- 
 man's house was his castle ; but the newspapers 
 thought otherwise, and at last the matter came 
 before my good Bishop. I insert his letter, and 
 a portion of my reply to him: 
 
 April 12, 184=2. So many of the charges against your- 
 self and yonr friends which I have seen in the public 
 journals have been, within my own knowledge, false and 
 calumnious, that I am not apt to pay much attention to 
 what is asserted with respect to you in the newspapers. 
 
 In a (newspaper) however, of April 9, there appears a 
 paragraph in which it is asserted, as a matter of notoriety, 
 that a so-called Anglo-Catholic monastery is in process 
 of erection at Littlemore, and that the cells of dormitories, 
 the chapel, the refectory, the cloisters, all may be seen 
 advancing to perfection, under the eye of a Parish Priest 
 of the diocese of Oxford. 
 
 Now, as I have understood, that you really are possessed 
 of some tenements at Littlemore — as it is generally be- 
 lieved that they are destined for the purposes of study 
 
1841 to 1845 193 
 
 and devotion— and as much suspicion and jealousy are 
 felt about; the matter, I am anxious to afford you an 
 opportunity of making me an explanation on the subject. 
 I know you too well not to be aware that you are the 
 last man living to attempt in my Diocese a revival of the 
 Monastic orders (in any thing approaching to the Komanist 
 sense of the term) without previous communication with 
 me— or indeed that you should take upon yourself to 
 originate any measure of importance without authority 
 from the heads of the Church— and therefore I at once 
 exonerate you from the accusation brought against you 
 by the newspaper I have quoted, but I feel it never- 
 theless a duty to my Diocese and myself, as well as to 
 you, to ask you to put in my power to contradict what, 
 if uncontradicted, would appear to imply a glaring in- 
 vasion of all ecclesiastical discipline on your part, or of 
 inexcusable neglect and indifference to my dnties on mine. 
 
 April 14, 1842. I am very much obliged by your Lord- 
 ship's kindness in allowing me to write to you on the 
 subject of my house at Littlemore; at the same time I 
 feel it hard both on your Lordship and myself, that the 
 restlessness of the public mind should oblige you to 
 require an explanation of me. 
 
 It is now a whole year that I have been the subject 
 of incessant misrepresentation. A year since I submitted 
 entirely to your Lordship's authority ; and with the in- 
 tention of following out the particular act enjoined upon 
 me, I not only stopped the series of Tracts, on which I 
 was engaged, but withdrew from all public discussion of 
 Church matters of the day, or what may be called ecc- 
 lesiastical politics. I turned myself at once to the 
 preparation for the press of the translations of St Athana- 
 sius to which I had long wished to devote myself, and I 
 intended, and intend, to employ myself in the like theolog- 
 ical studies, and in the concerns of my own parish and 
 in practical works. 
 
 With the same view of personal improvement I was 
 led more seriously to a design which had been long on 
 my mind. For many years, at least thirteen, I have 
 wished to give myself to a life of greater religious 
 regularity than I have hitherto led; but it is very un- 
 pleasant to confess such a wish even to my Bishop, be- 
 cause it seems arrogant, and because it is committing 
 me to a profession which may come to nothing. For 
 what have I done, that I am to be called to account by 
 
 13 
 
194 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 the world for my private actions in a way in which no 
 one else is called? Why may I not have that liberty 
 which all others are allowed? I am often accused of 
 being underhand and uncandid in respect to the intentions 
 to which I have been alluding: but no one likes his own 
 good resolutions noised about, both from mere common 
 delicacy, and from fear lest he should not be able to 
 fulfil them. I feel it very cruel, though the parties in 
 fault do not know what they are doing, that very sacred 
 matters between me and my conscience are made a matter 
 of public talk. May I take a case parallel though different? 
 suppose a person in prospect of marriage; would he like 
 the subject discussed in newspapers, and parties, circum- 
 stances, etc.. etc., publicly demanded of him, at the penalty 
 of being accused of craft and duplicity? 
 
 The resolution I speak of has been taken with reference 
 to myself alone, and has been contemplated quite in- 
 dependent of the co-operation of any other human being, 
 and without reference to success or failure other than 
 personal, and without regard to the blame or approbation 
 of man. And being a resolution of years, and one to 
 which I feel God has called me, and in which I am 
 violating no rule of the Church, any more than if I 
 married, I should have to answer for it, if I did not 
 pursue it, as a good Providence made openings for it. 
 In pursuing it, then, I am thinking of myself alone, not 
 aiming at any ecclesiastical or external effects. At the 
 same time of course, it would be a great comfort to me 
 to know that God had put it into the hearts of others to 
 pursue their personal edification in the same way, and 
 unnatural not to wish to have the benefit of their pre- 
 sence and encouragement, or not to think it a great in- 
 fringement on the rights of conscience if such personal 
 and private resolutions were interfered with. Your Lord- 
 ship will allow me to add my firm conviction, that such 
 religious resolutions are most necessary for keeping a 
 certain class of minds firm in their allegiance to our 
 Church; but still I can as truly say, that my own reason 
 for any thing I have done has been a personal one, 
 without which I should not have entered upon it, and 
 which I hope to pursue whether with or without the 
 sympathies of others pursuing a similar course. . . . 
 
 As to my intentions, I purpose to live there myself a 
 good deal, as I have a resident curate in Oxford. In 
 doing this, I believe I am consulting for the good of my 
 parish, as my population at Littlemore is at least equal 
 
1841 to 1845 195 
 
 to that of St Mary's in Oxford, and the whole of Little- 
 more is double of it. It has been very much neglected ; 
 and in providing a parsonage-house at Littlemore, as this 
 will be, and will be called, I conceive I am doing a very 
 great benefit to my people. At the same time, it has 
 appeared to me, that a partial or temporary retirement 
 from St Mary's Church might be expedient under the 
 prevailing excitement. 
 
 As to the quotation from the (newspaper) which I have 
 not seen, your Lordship will perceive from what I have 
 said, that no 'monastery is in process of erection'; there 
 is no 'chapel'; no 'refectory'; hardly a dining-room, or 
 parlour. The 'cloisters' are my shed, connecting the 
 cottages. I do not understand what 'cells of dormitories ' 
 means. Of course I can repeat your Lordship's words, 
 that 'I am not attempting a revival of the Monastic 
 Orders, in anything approaching to the Eomanist sense 
 of the term', or 'taking on myself to originate any 
 measure of importance without authority from the heads 
 of the Church'. I am attempting nothing ecclesiastical, 
 but something personal and private, and which can only 
 be made public, not private, by newspapers and letter- 
 writers, in which sense the most sacred and conscientious 
 resolves and acts may certainly be made the objects of 
 an unmannerly and unfeeling curiosity. 
 
 One calumny there was which the Bishop 
 did not believe, and of which of course he had 
 no idea of speaking. It was, that I was actually 
 in the service of the enemy. I had been already 
 received into the Catholic Church, and was 
 rearing at Littlemore a nest of Papists, who, 
 like me, were to take the Anglican oaths which 
 they did not believe, and for which they got 
 dispensation from Rome, and thus in due time 
 were to bring over to that unprincipled Church 
 great numbers of the Anglican clergy and laity. 
 Bishops gave their countenance to this imputa- 
 tion against me. The case was simply this: as 
 I made Littlemore a place of retirement for 
 myself, so did I offer it to others. There were 
 young men in Oxford whose testimonials for 
 
J 96 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Orders had been refused by their Colleges ; there 
 were young clergymen, who had found them- 
 selves unable from conscience to go on with 
 their duties, and had thrown up their parochial 
 engagements. Such men were already going 
 straight to Rome, and I interposed ; I interposed 
 for the reasons I have given in the beginning 
 of this portion of my narrative. I interposed 
 from fidelity to my clerical engagements, and 
 from duty to my Bishop ; and from the interest 
 which I was bound to take in them, and from 
 belief that they were premature or excited. 
 Their friends besought me to quiet them, if I 
 could. Some of them came to live with me at 
 Littlemore. They were laymen, or in the place 
 of laymen. I kept some of them back for several 
 years from being received into the Catholic 
 Church. Even when I had given up my living, 
 I was still bound by my duty to their parents 
 or friends, and I did not forget still to do what 
 I could for them. The immediate occasion of 
 my resigning St Mary's was the unexpected 
 conversion of one of them. After that, I felt it 
 was impossible to keep my post there, for I had 
 been unable to keep my word with my Bishop. 
 
 The following letters refer, more or less, to these 
 men, whether they were, with me at Littlemore 
 or not: 
 
 1. 1843 or 1844. I did not explain to you sufficiently 
 the state of mind of those who were in danger. I only 
 spoke of those who were convinced that our Church was 
 external to the Church Catholic, though they felt it 
 unsafe to trust their own private convictions; but there 
 are two other states of mind; (1) that of those who are 
 unconsciously near Eome, and whose despair about our 
 Church would at once develope into a state of conscious 
 approximation, or a gw^m-resolution to go over; (2) those 
 who feel they can with a safe conscience remain with 
 
1841 to 1845 197 
 
 us while they are allowed to testify in behalf of Catho- 
 licism, i. e. as if by such acts they were putting our 
 Church, or at least that portion of it in which they were 
 included, in the position of catechumens. 
 
 2. July 16, 1843. I assure you that I feel, with only 
 too much sympathy, what you say. You need not be told 
 that the whole subject of our position is a subject of 
 anxiety to others beside yourself. It is no good attempt- 
 ing to offer advice, when, perhaps, I might raise difficulties 
 instead of removing them. It seems to me quite a case, 
 tn which you should, as far as may be, make up your 
 mind for yourself. Come to Littlemore by all means. 
 We shall all rejoice in your company; and, if quiet and 
 retirement are able, as they very likely will be, to recon- 
 cile you to things as they are, you shall have your fill 
 of them. How distressed poor Henry Wilberforce must 
 be! Knowing how he values you, I feel for him; but, alas! 
 he has his own position, and everyone else has his own, 
 and the misery is that no two of us have exactly the same. 
 
 It is very kind of you to be so frank and open with 
 me, as you are; but this is a time which throws together 
 persons who feel alike. May I, without taking a liberty, 
 sign myself, yours affectionately, etc. 
 
 3. 1845. I am concerned to find you speak of me in 
 a tone of distrust. If you knew me ever so little, instead 
 of hearing of me from persons who do not know me at 
 all, you would think differently of me, whatever you 
 thought of my opinions. Two years since, I got your son 
 to tell you my intention of resigning St Mary's, before I 
 made it public, thinking you ought to know it. When 
 you expressed some painful feeling upon it, I told him I 
 could not consent to his remaining here, painful as it 
 would be to me to part with him, without your written 
 sanction. And this you did me the favour to give. 
 
 I believe you will find that it has been merely a delicacy 
 on your son's part, which has delayed his speaking to 
 you about me for two months past; a delicacy, lest he 
 should say either too much or too little about me. I 
 have urged him several times to speak to you. 
 
 Nothing can be done after your letter but to recommend 
 him to go to A. B. (his home) at once. I am very sorry 
 to part with him. 
 
 4. The following letter is addressed to a 
 Catholic prelate, who accused me of coldness in 
 my conduct towards him: 
 
198 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 April 16, 1845. I was at that time in charge of a 
 ministerial office in the English Church, with persons 
 entrusted to me, and a Bishop to obey; how could I 
 possibly write otherwise than I did, without violating 
 sacred obligations, and betraying momentous interests 
 which were upon me? I felt that my immediate, undeni- 
 able duty, clear if any thing was clear, was to fulfil that 
 trust. It might be right, indeed, to give it up, that was 
 another thing; but it never could be right to hold it, and 
 to act as if I did not hold it. . . . If you knew me, you 
 would acquit me, I think, of having ever felt towards 
 your Lordship an unfriendly spirit, or ever having had a 
 shadow on my mind (as far as I dare witness about 
 myself) of what might be called controversial rivalry or 
 desire of getting the better, or fear lest the world should 
 think I had got the worst, or irritation of any kind. You 
 are too kind indeed to imply this, and yet your words 
 lead me to say it. And now, in like manner, pray be- 
 lieve, though I cannot explain it to you, that I am en- 
 compassed with responsibilities, so great and so various, 
 as utterly to overcome me, unless I have mercy from 
 Him, who, all through my life, has sustained and guided 
 me, and to whom I can now submit myself, though men 
 of all parties are thinking evil of me. 
 
 August 30, 1843. A. B. has suddenly conformed to the 
 Church of Rome. He was away for three weeks. I 
 suppose I must say in my defence, that he promised me 
 distinctly to remain in our Church three years, before I 
 received him here. 
 
 Such fidelity, however, was taken in malum 
 partem by the high Anglican authorities ; they 
 thought it insidious. I happen still to have a 
 correspondence in which the chief place is filled 
 by one of the most eminent bishops of the day, 
 a theologian and reader of the Fathers, a moderate 
 man, who, at one time, was talked of as likely 
 to have the reversion of the Primacy. A young 
 clergyman in his diocese became a Catholic ; 
 the papers at once reported, on authority from 
 ( a very high quarter ', that, after his reception, 
 'the Oxford men had been recommending him 
 to retain his living '. I had reasons for thinking 
 
1841 to 1845 199 
 
 that the allusion was to me, and I authorized 
 the editor of a paper, who had inquired of me 
 on the point, to 'give it, as far as I was con- 
 cerned, an unqualified contradiction ' ; when, from 
 a motive of delicacy, he hesitated, I added 'my 
 direct and indignant contradiction'. 'Whoever 
 is the author of it, no correspondence or inter- 
 course of any kind, direct or indirect, has passed ', 
 I continued to the editor, 'between Mr S. and 
 myself, since his conforming to the Church of 
 Rome, except my formally, and merely, acknow- 
 ledging the receipt of his letter in which he 
 informed me of the fact, without, as far as I 
 recollect, my expressing any opinion upon it. 
 You may state this as broadly as I have set it 
 down.' My denial was told to the bishop ; what 
 took place upon it is given in a letter from 
 which I copy. ' My father showed the letter to 
 the bishop, who, as he laid it down, said "Ah, 
 those Oxford men are not ingenuous/' "How 
 do you mean?" asked my father. "Why", said 
 the bishop, "they advised Mr. B. S. to retain 
 his living after he turned Catholic. I know that 
 to be a fact, because A. B. told me so." 'The 
 bishop', continues the letter, 'who is perhaps 
 the most influential man in reality on the bench, 
 evidently believes it to be the truth.' Dr Pusey 
 too wrote for me to the bishop, and the bishop 
 instantly beat a retreat. 'I have the honour', 
 he says in the autograph which I transcribe, 
 ' to acknowledge the receipt of your note, and 
 to say in reply that it has not been stated by 
 me (though such a statement has, I believe, 
 appeared in some of the public prints) that 
 Mr Newman had advised Mr B. S. to retain 
 his living, after he had forsaken our Church. 
 
200 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 But it has been stated to me, that Mr Newman 
 was in close correspondence with Mr B. S., and, 
 being fully aware of his state of opinions and 
 feelings, yet advised him to continue in our 
 communion. Allow me to add', he says to Dr 
 Pusey, 'that neither your name, nor that of 
 Mr Keble, was mentioned to me in connection 
 with that of Mr B. S.' 
 
 I was not going to let the bishop off on this 
 evasion, so I wrote to him myself. After quoting 
 his letter to Dr Pusey, I continued : 
 
 'I beg to trouble your Lordship with my own account 
 of the two allegations' (close correspondence and fully 
 aware, etc.) 'which are contained in your statement, and 
 which have led to your speaking of me in terms which 
 I hope never to deserve. (1) Since Mr B. S. has been in 
 your Lordship's diocese, I have seen him in common- 
 rooms or private parties in Oxford two or three times, 
 when I never (as far I can recollect) had any conversa- 
 tion with him. During the same time I have, to the best 
 of my memory, written to him three letters. One was 
 lately, in acknowledgment of his informing me of his 
 change of religion. Another was last summer, when I 
 asked him (to no purpose) to come and stay with me in 
 this place. The earliest of the three letters was written 
 just a year since, as far as I recollect, and it certainly 
 was on the subject of his joining the Church of Borne. 
 I wrote this letter at the earnest wish of a friend of his. 
 I cannot be sure that, on his replying, I did not send 
 him a brief note in explanation of points in my letter 
 which he had misapprehended. I cannot recollect any 
 other correspondence between us. 
 
 (2) As to my knowledge of his opinions and feelings, 
 as far as I remember, the only point of perplexity which 
 I knew, the only point which to this hour I know as 
 pressing upon him, was that of the Pope's supremacy. 
 He professed to be searching Antiquity whether the See 
 of Rome had formerly that relation to the whole Church 
 which Roman Catholics now assign to it. My letter was 
 directed to the point, that it was his duty not to perplex 
 himself with arguments on (such) a question, . . . and 
 to put it altogether aside ... It is hard that I am put 
 
1841 to 1845 201 
 
 upon my memory, without knowing the details of the 
 statement made against me, considering the various 
 correspondence in which I am from time to time unavoid- 
 ably engaged. ... Be assured, my Lord, that there are 
 very definite limits, beyond which persons like me would 
 never urge another to retain preferment in the English 
 Church, nor would retain it themselves; and that the 
 censure which has been directed against them by so 
 many of its rulers has a very grave bearing upon those 
 limits.' 
 
 The bishop replied in a civil letter, and sent 
 my own letter to his original informant, who 
 wrote to me the letter of a gentleman. It 
 seems that an anxious lady had said something 
 or other which had been misinterpreted, against 
 her real meaning, into the calumny which was 
 circulated, and so the report vanished into thin 
 air. I closed the correspondence with the follow- 
 ing letter to the bishop: 
 
 I hope your Lordship will believe me when I say, that 
 statements about me, equally incorrect with that which 
 has come to your Lordship's ears, are from time to time 
 reported to me as credited and repeated by the highest 
 authorities in our Church, though it is very seldom that 
 I have the opportunity of denying them. I am obliged 
 by your Lordship's letter to Dr. Pusey as giving me such 
 an opportunity. 
 
 Then I added, with a purpose: 
 
 Your Lordship will observe that in my letter I had no 
 occasion to proceed to the question, whether a person 
 holding Roman Catholic opinions can in honesty remain 
 in our Church. Lest then any misconception should arise 
 from my silence, I here take the liberty of adding, that 
 I see nothing wrong in such a person's continuing in 
 communion with us, provided he holds no preferment or 
 office, abstains from the management of ecclesiastical 
 matters, and is bound by no subscription or oath to our 
 doctrines. 
 
 This was written on March 7, 1843, and was 
 in anticipation of my own retirement into lay 
 
202 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 communion. This again leads me to a remark ; 
 for two years I was in lay communion, not in- 
 deed being a Catholic in my convictions, but 
 in a state of serious doubt, and with the proba- 
 ble prospect of becoming some day what as 
 yet I was not. Under these circumstances, I 
 thought the best thing I could do was to give 
 up duty, and to throw myself into lay com- 
 munion, remaining an Anglican. I could not 
 go to Rome while I thought what I did of the 
 devotions she sanctioned to the Blessed Virgin 
 and the Saints. I did not give up my fellow- 
 ship, for I could not be sure that my doubts 
 would not be reduced or overcome, however 
 unlikely I thought such an event. But I gave 
 up my living ; and, for two years before my 
 conversion, I took no clerical duty. My last 
 sermon was in September, 1 843 ; then I remained 
 at Littlemore in quiet for two years. But it 
 was made a subject of reproach to me at the 
 time, and is at this day, that I did not leave 
 the Anglican Church sooner. To me this seems 
 a wonderful charge; why, even had I been 
 quite sure that Rome was the true Church, 
 the Anglican Bishops would have had no just 
 subject of complaint against me, provided I 
 took no Anglican oath, no clerical duty, no 
 ecclesiastical administration. Do they force all 
 men who go to their Churches to believe in 
 the 39 Articles, or to join in the Athanasian 
 Creed ? However, I was to have other measure 
 dealt to me ; great authorities ruled it so ; and 
 a learned controversialist in the North thought 
 it a shame that I did not leave the Church of 
 England as much as ten years sooner than I 
 did. His nephew, an Anglican clergyman, kindly 
 
1841 to 1845 203 
 
 wished to undeceive him on this point. So, in 
 1850, after some correspondence, I wrote the 
 following Jetter, which will be of service to 
 this narrative, from its chronological character: 
 
 Dec. 6, 1849. Your uncle says 'If he (Mr. N.) will 
 declare, sans phrase, as the French say, that I have 
 laboured under an entire mistake, and that he was not a 
 concealed Romanist during the ten years in question' 
 (I suppose, the last ten years of my membership with 
 the Anglican Church) 'or during any part of the time, 
 my controversial antipathy will be at an end, and I will 
 readily express to him that I am truly sorry that I have 
 made such a mistake.' 
 
 So candid an avowal is what I should have expected 
 from a mind like your uncle's. I am extremely glad he 
 has brought it to this issue. 
 
 By a 'concealed Romanist' I understand him to mean 
 one, who, professing to belong to the Church of England, 
 in his heart and will intends to benefit the Church of 
 Rome at the expense of the Church of England. He 
 cannot mean by the expression merely a person who in 
 fact is benefiting the Church of Rome, while he is in- 
 tending to benefit the Church of England, for that is«no 
 discredit to him morally, and he (your uncle) evidently 
 means to impute blame. 
 
 In the sense in which I have explained the words, I 
 can simply and honestly say, that I was not a concealed 
 Romanist during the whole, or any part of, the years in 
 question. 
 
 For the first four years of the ten, (up to Michaelmas, 
 1839,) I honestly wished to benefit the Church of England 
 at the expense of the Church of Rome: 
 
 For the second . four years, I wished to benefit the 
 Church of England without prejudice to the Church of 
 Rome : 
 
 At the beginning of the ninth year (Michaelmas, 1843) 
 I began to despair of the Church of England, and gave 
 up all clerical duty; and then, what I wrote and did was 
 influenced by a mere wish not to injure it, and not by 
 the wish to benefit it: 
 
 At the beginning of the tenth year I distinctly contem- 
 plated leaving it. but I also distinctly told my friends 
 that it was in my contemplation. 
 
 Lastly, during the last half of that tenth year I was 
 
204 MV HELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 engaged in writing a book (Essay on Development) in 
 favour of the Roman Church, and indirectly against the 
 English; but even then, till it was finished, I had not 
 absolutely intended to publish it, wishing to reserve to 
 myself the chance of changing my mind when the 
 argumentative views which were actuating me had been 
 distinctly brought out before me in writing. 
 
 I wish this statement, which I make from memory, and 
 without consulting any document, severely tested by my 
 writings and doings, as I am confident it will, on the 
 whole, be borne out, whatever real or apparent exceptions 
 (I suspect none) have to be allowed by me in detail. 
 
 Your uncle is at liberty to make what use he pleases 
 of this explanation. 
 
 I have now reached an important date in 
 my narrative, the year 1843, but before proceed- 
 ing to the matters which it contains, I will 
 insert portions of my letters from 1841 to 1843, 
 addressed to Catholic acquaintances. 
 
 1. April 8, 1841. . . The unity of the Church Catholic 
 is very near my heart, only I do not see any prospect 
 of it in our time ; and I despair of its being effected 
 without great sacrifices on all hands. As to resisting 
 the Bishop's will, I observe that no point of doctrine or 
 principle was in dispute, but a course of action, the 
 publication of certain works. I do not think you suffici- 
 ently understood our position. I suppose you would obey 
 the Holy See in such a case; now, when we were separated 
 from the Pope, his authority reverted to our Diocesans. 
 Our Bishop is our Pope. It is our theory, that each 
 diocese is an integral Church, intercommunion being a 
 duty, (and the breach of it a sin,) but not essential to 
 Catholicity. To have resisted my Bishop would have 
 been to place myself in an utterly false position, which 
 I never could have recovered. Depend upon it, the 
 strength of any party lies in its being true to its theory. 
 Consistency is the life of a movement. 
 
 I have no misgivings whatever that the line I have 
 taken can be other than a prosperous one; that is, in 
 itself, for of course Providence may refuse to us its 
 legitimate issues for our sins. 
 
 I am afraid, that in one respect you may be disap- 
 pointed. It is my trust, though I must not be too sanguine, 
 that we shall not have individual members of our com- 
 
1841 to 1845 205 
 
 mnnion going over to yours. What one's doty would be 
 under other circumstances, what our duty ten or twenty 
 years ago, I cannot say; but I do think that there is 
 less of private judgment in going with one's Church 
 than in leaving it. I can earnestly desire a union be- 
 tween my Church and yours. I cannot listen to the 
 thought of your being joined by individuals among us. 
 
 2. April 26, 1841. My only anxiety is lest your branch 
 of the Church should not meet us by those reforms which 
 surely are necessary. It never could be, that so large a 
 portion of Christendom should have split off from the 
 communion of Rome, and kept up a protest for 300 years, 
 for nothing. I think I never shall believe that so much 
 piety and earnestness would be found among Protestants 
 if there were not some very grave errors on the side of 
 Rome. To suppose the contrary is most unreal, and 
 violates all one's notions of moral probabilities. All aber- 
 rations are founded on, and have their life in, some truth 
 or other — and Protestantism, so widely spread and so 
 long enduring, must have in it, and must be witness for, 
 a great truth, or much truth. That I am an advocate for 
 Protestantism, you cannot suppose — but I am forced into 
 a Via Media, short of Rome, as it is at present. 
 
 3. May 5, 1841. While I most sincerely hold that 
 there is, in the Roman Church, a traditionary system which 
 is not necessaiily connected with her essential formularies, 
 yet, were I ever so much to change my mind on this 
 point, this would not tend to bring me from my present 
 position, providentially appointed in the English Church. 
 That your communion was unassailable, would not prove 
 that mine was indefensible. Nor would it at all affect 
 the sense in which I receive our Articles; they would still 
 speak against certain definite errors, though you had 
 reformed them. 
 
 I say this lest any lurking suspicion should be left in 
 the mind of your friends, that persons who think with 
 me are likely, by the growth of their present views, to 
 find it imperative on them to pass over to your com- 
 munion. Allow me to state strongly, that if you have 
 any such thoughts, and proceed to act upon them, your 
 friends will be committing a fatal mistake. We have 
 (I trust) the principle and temper of obedience too in- 
 timately wrought into us to allow of our separating our- 
 selves from our ecclesiastical superiors, because in many 
 points we may sympathize with others. We have too 
 great a horror of the principle of private judgment to 
 
206 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 trust it in so immense a matter as that of changing from 
 one communion to another. We may be cast out of our 
 communion, or it may decree heresy to be truth — you 
 shall say whether such contingencies are likely; but I 
 do not see other conceivable causes of our leaving the 
 Church in which we were baptized. 
 
 For myself, persons must be well acquainted with what 
 I have written, before they venture to say whether I have 
 much changed my main opinions and cardinal views in 
 the course of the last eight years. That my sympathies 
 have grown towards the religion of Rome I do not deny; 
 that my reasons for shunning her communion have les- 
 sened or altered, it would be difficult perhaps to prove. 
 And I wish to go by reason, not by feeling. 
 
 4. June 18. 1841. You urge persons whose views 
 agree with mine to commence a movement in behalf of 
 a union between the Churches. Now in the letters I have 
 written, I have uniformly said that I did not expect that 
 union in our time, and have discouraged the notion of 
 all sudden proceedings with a view to it. I must ask 
 your leave to repeat on this occasion most distinctly, 
 that I cannot be party to any agitation, but mean to 
 remain quiet in my own place, and to do all I can to 
 make others take the same course. This I conceive to 
 be my simple duty; but, over and above this, I will not 
 set my teeth on edge with sour grapes. I know it is 
 quite within the range of possibilities, that one or another 
 of our people should go over to your communion; how- 
 ever, it would be a greater misfortune to you than grief 
 to us. If your friends wish to put a gulf between them- 
 selves and us, let them make converts, but not else. 
 Some months ago, I ventured to say that I felt it a 
 painful duty to keep aloof from all Roman Catholics 
 who came with the intention of opening negotiations for 
 the union of the Churches: when you now urge us to 
 petition our bishops for a union, this, I conceive, is very 
 like an act of negotiation. 
 
 5. I have the first sketch, or draft, of a letter 
 which I wrote to a zealous Catholic layman ; 
 it runs as follows, as I have preserved it: 
 
 September 12, 1841. It would rejoice all Catholic minds 
 among us, more than words can say, if you could persuade 
 members of the Church of Rome to take the line in 
 politics which you so earnestly advocate. Suspicion and 
 
1811 to 1845 207 
 
 distrust arc the main causes at present of the separation 
 between us, and the nearest approaches in doctrine will 
 but increase the hostility, which, alas ! our people feel 
 towards yours, while these causes continue. Depend 
 upon it, you must not rely upon our Catholic tendencies 
 till they are removed. I am not speaking of myself, or 
 of any friends of mine; but of our Church generally. 
 Whatever our personal feelings may be, we shall but tend 
 to raise and spread a rival Church to yours in the four 
 quarters of the world, unless you do what none but you 
 can do. Sympathies, which would flow over to the 
 Church of Rome, as a matter of course, did she admit 
 them, will but be developed in the consolidation of our 
 our own system, if she continues to be the object of our 
 suspicions and fears. I wish, of course I do, that our 
 own Church may be built up and extended, but still, not 
 at the cost of the Church of Rome, not in opposition to 
 it. 1 am sure, that while you suffer, we suffer too, from 
 the separation; but ive cannot remove the obstacles; it is 
 with you to do so. You do not fear us; we fear you. 
 Till we cease to fear you, we cannot love you. 
 
 While you are in your present position, the friends of 
 Catholic unity in our Church are but fulfilling the predic- 
 tion of those of your body who are averse to them, viz. 
 that they will be merely strengthening a rival communion 
 to yours. Many of you say that we are your greatest 
 enemies; we have said so ourselves: so we are, so we 
 shall be, as things stand at present. We are keeping 
 people from you by supplying their wants in our own 
 Church. We are keeping persons from you: do you wish 
 us to keep them from you for a time, or for ever? It 
 rests with you to determine. I do not fear that you will 
 succeed among us; you will not supplant our Church in 
 the affections of the English nation ; only through the 
 English Church can you act upon the English nation. 
 I wish of course our Church should be consolidated, 
 with, and through, and in your communion, for its sake, 
 and your sake, and for the sake of unity. 
 
 Are you aware that the more serious thinkers among 
 us are used, as far as they dare form an opinion, to 
 regard the spirit of Liberalism as the characteristic of 
 the destined Antichrist? In vain does anyone clear the 
 Church of Rome from the badges of Antichrist, in which 
 Protestants would invest her, if she deliberately takes 
 up her position in the very quarter, whither we have 
 cast them, when we took them off from her. Antichrist 
 
208 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 is described as the tzvo(zo%, as exalting himself above the 
 yoke of religion and law. The spirit of lawlessness came 
 in with the Reformation, and Liberalism is its offspring. 
 
 And now I fear I am going to pain you by telling 
 you, that yon consider the approaches in doctrine on 
 our part towards you closer than they really are. I 
 cannot help repeating what I have many times said in 
 print, that your services and devotions to St Mary in 
 matter of fact do most deeply pain me. I am only 
 stating it as a fact. 
 
 Again, I have nowhere said that I can accept the 
 decrees of Trent throughout, nor implied it. The doctrine 
 of Transubstantiation is a great difficulty with me, as 
 being, as I think, not primitive. Nor have I said that 
 our Articles in all respects admit of a Roman inter- 
 pretation; the very word' Transubstantiation' is disowned 
 in them. 
 
 Thus, you see, it is not merely on grounds of ex- 
 pedience that we do not join you. There are positive 
 difficulties in the way of it. And, even if there were not, 
 we shall have no divine warrant for doing so, while we 
 think that the Church of England is a branch of the 
 true Church, and that intercommunion with the rest of 
 Christendom is necessary, not for the life of a particular 
 Church, but for its health only. I have never disguised 
 that there are actual circumstances in the Church of 
 Rome which pain me much; of the removal of these I 
 see no chance while we join you one by one; but if our 
 Church were prepared for a union, she might make her 
 terms; she might gain the Cup; she might protest against 
 the extreme honours paid to St Mary ; she might make 
 some explanation of the doctrine of Transubstantiation. 
 I am not prepared to say that a reform in other branches 
 of the Roman Church would be necessary for our uniting 
 with them, however desirable in itself, so that we were 
 allowed to make a reform in our own country. We do 
 not look towards Rome as believing that its communion 
 is infallible, but that union is a duty. 
 
 The following letter was occasioned by the 
 present of a book from the friend to whom it 
 is written ; more will be said on the subject of 
 it presently: 
 
 Nov. 22, 1842. I only wish that your Church were 
 more known among us by such writings, You will not 
 
1841 to 1845 209 
 
 interest us in her, till we see her, not in politics, but in 
 her true functions of exhorting, teaching, and guiding. 
 I wish there were a chance of making the leading men 
 among you understand, what I believe is no novel thought 
 to yourself. It is not by learned discussions, or acute 
 arguments, or reports of miracles, that the heart of 
 England can be gained. It is by men 'approving them- 
 selves', like the Apostle, 'ministers of Christ'. 
 
 As to your question, whether the volume you have 
 sent is not calculated to remove my apprehensions that 
 another gospel is substituted for the true one in your 
 practical instructions, before I can answer it in any way, 
 I ought to know how far the sermons which it comprises 
 are selected from a number, or whether they are the 
 whole, or such as the whole, which have been published, 
 of the author's. I assure you, or at least I trust, that, 
 if is ever clearly brought home to me that I have been 
 wrong in what I have said on this subject, my public 
 avowal of that conviction will only be a question of time 
 with me. 
 
 If, however, you saw our Church as we see it, you 
 would easily understand that such a change of feeling, 
 did it take place, would have no necessary tendency, 
 which you seem to expect, to draw a person from the 
 Church of Engiand to that of Rome. There is a divine 
 life among us, clearly manifested, in spite of all our 
 disorders, which is as great a Note of the Church, as any 
 can be. Why should we seek our Lord's presence else- 
 where, when He vouchsafes it to us where we are? What 
 call have we to change our communion? 
 
 Roman Catholics will find this to be the state of things 
 in time to come, whatever promise they may fancy there 
 is of a large secession to their Church. This man or that 
 may leave us, but there will be no general movement. 
 There is, indeed, an incipient movement of our Church 
 towards yours, and this your leading men are doing all 
 they can to frustrate by their unwearied efforts at all 
 risks to carry off individuals. When will they know their 
 position, and embrace a larger and wiser policy? 
 
 
 14 
 
§10 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 The last letter, which I have inserted, is ad- 
 dressed to my dear friend, Dr Russell, the present 
 President of Maynooth. He had, perhaps, more 
 to do with my conversion than anyone else. 
 He called upon me, in passing through Oxford, 
 in the summer of 1841, and I think I took him 
 over some of the buildings of the University. 
 He called again another summer, on his way 
 from Dublin to London. I do not recollect that 
 he said a word on the subject of religion on 
 either occasion. He sent me at different times 
 several letters ; he was always gentle, mild, un- 
 obtrusive, uncontroversial. He let me alone. He 
 also gave me one or two books. Veron's Rule 
 of Faith and some Treatises of the Wallenburghs 
 was one; a volume of St Alfonso Liguori's Ser- 
 mons was another ; and to that the letter which 
 I have last inserted relates. 
 
 Now it must be observed, that the writings 
 of St Alfonso, as I knew them by the extracts 
 commonly made from them, prejudiced me as 
 much against the Roman Church as any thing 
 else, on account of what was called their 
 ( Mariolatry ' ; but there was nothing of the 
 kind in this book. I wrote to ask Dr Russell 
 whether anything had been left out in the 
 translation; he answered that there certainly 
 was an omission of one passage about the Blessed 
 Virgin. This omission, in the case of a book 
 intended for Catholics, at least showed that 
 such passages as are found in the works of 
 Italian authors were not acceptable to every 
 
1841 to 1845 211 
 
 part of the Catholic world. Such devotional 
 manifestations in honour of Our Lady had been 
 my great crux as regards Catholicism ; I say 
 frankly, I do not fully enter into them now; 
 I trust I do not love her the less, because I 
 cannot enter into them. They may be fully 
 explained and defended ; but sentiment and taste 
 do not run with logic ; they are suitable for 
 Italy, but they are not suitable for England. 
 But, over and above England, my own case was 
 special ; from a boy I had been led to consider 
 that my Maker and I, His creature, were the 
 two beings, certainly such, in rerum natura. I 
 will not here speculate, however, about my own 
 feelings. Only this I know full well now, and 
 did not know then, that the Catholic Church 
 allows no image of any sort, material or im- 
 material, no dogmatic symbol, no rite, no sacra- 
 ment, no Saint, not even the Blessed Virgin 
 herself, to come between the soul and its Creator. 
 It is face to face, ( solus cum solo', in all matters 
 between man and his God. He alone creates ; 
 He alone has redeemed ; before His awful eyes 
 we go in death ; in the vision of Him is our 
 eternal beatitude. c Solus cum solo' — I recollect 
 but indistinctly the effect produced upon me 
 by this volume, but it must have been consider- 
 able. At all events, I had got a key to a difficulty ; 
 in these sermons, (or rather heads of sermons, as 
 they seem to be, taken down by a hearer,) there 
 is much of what would be called legendary illus- 
 tration ; but the substance of them is plain, 
 practical, awful preaching upon the great truths 
 of salvation, \fyhat I can speak of with greater 
 confidence is the effect upon me a little later 
 of the Exercises of St Ignatius. Here again, in 
 
212 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 a pure matter of the most direct religion, in 
 the intercourse between God and the soul, during 
 a season of recollection, of repentance, of good 
 resolution, of inquiry into vocation, the soul was 
 'sola cum solo'; there was no cloud interposed 
 between the creature and the Object of his faith 
 and love. The command practically enforced was 
 ( My son, give Me thy heart.' The devotions, then, 
 to angels and saints, as little interfered with the 
 incommunicable glory of the Eternal, as the love 
 which we bear our friends and relations, our 
 tender human sympathies, are inconsistent with 
 that supreme homage of the heart to the Unseen, 
 which really does but sanctify and exalt what 
 is of earth. At a later date, Dr Russell sent me 
 a large bundle of penny or half-penny books of 
 devotion, of all sorts, as they are found in the 
 booksellers' shops at Rome ; and, on looking them 
 over, I was quite astonished to find how different 
 they were from what I had fancied, how little 
 there was in them to which I could really object. 
 I have given an account of them in my Essay 
 on the Development of Doctrine. Dr Russell sent 
 me St Alfonso's book at the end of 1842; how- 
 ever, it was still a long time before I got over 
 my difficulty on the score of the devotions paid 
 to the Saints; perhaps, as I judge, from a letter 
 I have turned up, it was some way into 1844, 
 before I could be said to have got over it. 
 
 I am not sure that another consideration did 
 not also weigh with me then. The idea of the 
 Blessed Virgin was, as it were, magnified in the 
 Church of Rome, as time went on — but so were 
 all the Christian ideas; as that of the Blessed 
 Eucharist. The whole scene of pale, faint, distant 
 Apostolic Christianity is seen in Rome, as through 
 
1841 to 1845 218 
 
 a telescope or magnifier. The harmony of the 
 whole, however, is of course what it was. It is 
 unfair then to take one Roman idea, that of 
 the Blessed Virgin, out of what may be called 
 its context. 
 
 Thus I am brought to the principle of develop- 
 ment of doctrine in the Christian Church, to which 
 I gave my mind at the end of 1842. I had spoken 
 of it in the passage, which I quoted many pages 
 back, in Home Thoughts Abroad, published in 
 18.36; but it had been a favourite subject with 
 me all along. And it is certainly recognized 
 in that celebrated Treatise of Vincent of Lerins, 
 which has so often been taken as the basis of 
 the Anglican theory. In 1843 I began to con- 
 sider it steadily ; and the general view to which 
 I came is stated thus in a letter to a friend, 
 of the date of July 14, 1844; it will be observed 
 that, now as before, my issue is still Faith 
 versus Church: 
 
 The kind of considerations which weigh with me arc 
 such as the following: (1) I am far more certain (accord- 
 ing to the Fathers) that we are in a state of culpable 
 separation, than that developments do not exist under the 
 Gospel, and that the Roman developments are not the 
 true ones. (2) I am far more certain, that our (modern) 
 doctrines are wrong, than that the Roman (modern) doc- 
 trines are wrong. (3) Granting that the Roman (special) 
 doctrines are not found drawn out in the early Church, 
 yet I think there is sufficient trace of them in it, to 
 recommend and prove them, on the hypothesis of the 
 Church having a divine guidance, though not sufficient 
 to prove them by itself, So that the question simply 
 turns on the nature of the promise of the Spirit, made 
 to the Clinch. (4) The proof of the Roman (modern) 
 doctrine is as strong (or stronger) in Antiquity, as that 
 of certain doctrines which both we and Romans hold: 
 e. g. there is more of evidence in Antiquity for the 
 necessity of Unity, than for the Apostolical Succession; 
 for the Supremacy of the See of Borne, than for the 
 
214 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Presence in the Eucharist; for the practice of Invocation, 
 than for certain books in the present Canon of Scripture, 
 etc. etc. (5) The analogy of the Old Testament, and also 
 of the New, leads to the acknowledgment of doctrinal 
 developments. 
 
 And thus I was led on to a further considera- 
 tion. I saw that the principle of development 
 not only accounted for certain facts, but was 
 in itself a remarkable philosophical phenomenon, 
 giving a character to the whole course of Christian 
 thought. It was discernible from the first years 
 of the Catholic teaching up to the present day, 
 and gave to that teaching a unity and individuality. 
 It served as a sort of test, which the Anglican 
 could not exhibit, that modern Rome was in 
 truth ancient Antioch, Alexandria, and Constan- 
 tinople, just as a mathematical curve has its 
 own law and expression. 
 
 And thus, again, I was led on to examine 
 more attentively what I doubt not was in my 
 thoughts long before, viz. the concatenation of 
 argument by which the mind ascends from its 
 first to its final religious idea ; and I came to 
 the conclusion, that there was no medium, in 
 true philosophy, between Atheism and Catholi- 
 city, and that a perfectly consistent mind, under 
 those circumstances in which it finds itself here 
 below, must embrace either the one or the other. 
 And I hold this still : I am a Catholic by virtue 
 of my believing in a God ; and if I am asked 
 why I believe in a God, I answer that it is 
 because I believe in myself, for I feel it imposs- 
 ible to believe in my own existence (and of that 
 fact I am quite sure) without believing also in 
 the existence of Him, who lives as a Personal, 
 All-seeing, All-judging Being in my conscience, 
 
1841 to 1845 215 
 
 Now, I dare say, I have not expressed myself 
 with philosophical correctness, because I have 
 not given myself to the study of what others 
 have said on the subject ; but I think I have a 
 strong true meaning in what I say which will 
 stand examination. 
 
 Moreover, I came to the conclusion which I 
 have been stating, on reasoning of the same 
 nature as that which I had adopted on the 
 subject of development of doctrine. The fact 
 of the operation from first to last of that prin- 
 ciple of development is an argument in favour 
 of the identity of Roman and Primitive Chris- 
 tianity; but, as there is a law which acts upon 
 the subject-matter of dogmatic theology, so is 
 there a law in the matter of religious faith. In 
 the third part of this narrative I spoke of cert- 
 itude as the consequence, divinely intended 
 and enjoined upon us, of the accumulative force 
 of certain given reasons which, taken one by 
 one, were only probabilities. Let it be recollect- 
 ed that I am historically relating my state of 
 mind at the period of my life which I am 
 surveying. I am not speaking theologically, nor 
 have I any intention of going into controversy, 
 or of defending myself; b^ut speaking historically 
 of what I held in 1843-4, I say, that I believed 
 in a God on a ground of probability, that 1 
 believed in Christianity on a probability, and 
 that I believed in Catholicism on a probability, 
 and that all three were about the same kind of 
 probability, a cumulative, a transcendent prob- 
 ability, but still probability ; inasmuch as He 
 who made us has so willed that in mathematics, 
 indeed, we arrive at certitude by rigid demon- 
 stration, but in religious inquiry we arrive at 
 
21 6 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 certitude by accumulated probabilities — inasmuch 
 as He who has willed that we should so act, co- 
 operates with us in our acting, and thereby bestows 
 on us a certitude which rises higher than the 
 logical force of our conclusions. And thus I 
 came to see clearly, and to have a satisfaction 
 in seeing, that, in being led on into the Church 
 of Rome, I was proceeding, not by any second- 
 ary grounds of reason, or by controversial points 
 in detail, but was protected and justified, even 
 in the use of those secondary arguments, by a 
 great and broad principle. But, let it be observed, 
 that I am stating a matter of fact, not defending 
 it ; and if any Catholic says in consequence, that 
 I have been converted in a wrong way, I cannot 
 help that now. 
 
 And now I have carried on the history of 
 my opinions to their last point before I became 
 a Catholic. I find great difficulty in fixing 
 dates precisely ; but it must have been some 
 way into 1844 before I thought, not only that 
 the Anglican Church was certainly wrong, but 
 that Rome was right. Then I had nothing 
 more to learn on the subject. How e Samaria* 
 faded away from my imagination I cannot tell, 
 but it was gone. Now to go back to the time 
 when this last stage of my inquiry was in its 
 commencement, which, if I dare assign dates, 
 was towards the end of 1842. 
 
 In 1 843, I took two very important and signifi- 
 cant steps: (l) In February, I made a formal 
 retractation of all the hard things which I had said 
 against the Church of Rome. (2) In September, 
 I resigned the living of St Mary's, Littlemore 
 inclusive. I will speak of these two acts separately. 
 
1841 to 1845 217 
 
 (1) The words in which I made my retracta- 
 tion have given rise to much criticism. After 
 quoting a number of passages from my writings 
 against the Church of Rome, which I withdrew 
 I ended thus : ( If you ask me how an individual 
 could venture, not simply to hold, but to pub- 
 lish such views of a communion so ancient, 
 so wide-spreading, so fruitful in saints, I answer 
 that I said to myself "I am not speaking my 
 own words, I am but following almost a consen- 
 sus of the divines of my own Church. They 
 have ever used the strongest language against 
 Rome, even the most able and learned of them. 
 I wish to throw myself into their system. 
 While I say what they say, I am safe. Such 
 views, too, are necessary for our position.' * Yet 
 I have reason to fear still, that such language 
 is to be ascribed in no small measure to an 
 impetuous temper, a hope of approving myself 
 to persons I respect, and a wish to repel the 
 charge of Romanism/ 
 
 These words have been, and are, cited again 
 and again against me, as if a confession that, 
 when in the Anglican Church, I said things 
 against Rome which I did not really believe. 
 
 For myself, I cannot understand how any 
 impartial man can so take them ; and I have 
 explained them in print several times. I trust 
 that by this time they have been sufficiently 
 explained by what I have said in former por- 
 tions of this narrative ; still I have a word or 
 two to say about them which I have not said 
 before. I apologized in the lines in question 
 for saying out charges against the Church of 
 Rome which I fully believed to be true. What 
 is wonderful in such an apology? 
 
218 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 There are many things a man may hold, 
 which at the same time he may feel that he 
 has no right to say publicly. The law recognizes 
 this principle. In our own time, men have 
 been imprisoned and fined for saying true things 
 of a bad king. The maxim has been held, that 
 'The greater the truth, the greater is the libel.' 
 And so, as to the judgment of society, a just 
 indignation would be felt against a writer who 
 brought forward wantonly the weaknesses of a 
 great man, though the whole world knew that 
 they existed. No one is at liberty to speak ill 
 of another without a justifiable reason, even 
 though he knows he is speaking truth, and the 
 public knows it too. Therefore I could not speak 
 ill against the Church of Rome, though I believed 
 what I said, without a good reason. I did believe 
 what I said ; but had I a good reason for saying 
 it ? I thought I had ; viz. I said what I believed 
 was simply necessary in the controversy, in order 
 to defend ourselves ; I considered that the Angli- 
 can position could not be defended without 
 bringing charges against the Church of Rome. 
 Is not this almost a truism? Is it not what 
 every one says who speaks on the subject at 
 all? Does any serious man abuse the Church of 
 Rome for the sake of abusing her, or because 
 it justifies his own religious position? What is 
 the meaning of the very word ' Protestantism ', 
 but that there is a call to speak out ? This, then, 
 is what I said : ( I know I spoke strongly against 
 the Church of Rome ; but it was no mere abuse, 
 for I had a serious reason for doing so.' 
 
 But, not only did I think such language necess- 
 ary for my Church's religious position, but all 
 the great Anglican divines had thought so before 
 
1841 to 1845 21f) 
 
 me. They had thought so, and they had acted 
 accordingly. And therefore I said, with much 
 propriety, that I had not done it simply out of 
 my own head, but that I was following the 
 track, or rather reproducing the teaching, of 
 those who had preceded me. 
 
 I was pleading guilty ; but pleading also that 
 there were extenuating circumstances in the case. 
 We all know the story of the convict, who, on the 
 scaffold, bit off his mother's ear. By doing so, he 
 did not deny the fact of his own crime, for which 
 he was to hang ; but he said that his mother's 
 indulgence, when he was a boy, had a good deal 
 to do with it. In like manner I had made a 
 charge, and I had made it ex amino; but I accused 
 others of having led me into believing it and 
 publishing it. 
 
 But there was more than this meant in the 
 words which I used: first, I will freely confess, 
 indeed I said it some pages back, that I was 
 angry with the Anglican divines. I thought they 
 had taken me in ; I had read the Fathers with 
 their eyes; I had sometimes trusted their quot- 
 ations or their reasonings ; and from reliance 
 on them, I had used words, or made statements, 
 which properly I ought rigidly to have examined 
 myself. I had exercised more faith than criticism 
 in the matter. This did not imply any broad 
 misstatements on my part, arising from reliance 
 on their authority, but it implied carelessness 
 in matters of detail. And this of course was 
 a fault. 
 
 But there was a far deeper reason for my 
 saying what I said in this matter, on which I 
 have not hitherto touched ; and it was this : The 
 most oppressive thought, in the whole process 
 
220 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 of my change of opinion, was the clear anticip- 
 ation, verified by the event, that it would issue 
 in the triumph of Liberalism. Against the Anti- 
 dogmatic principle I had thrown my whole mind ; 
 yet now I was doing more than any one else 
 could do, to promote it. I was one of those 
 who had kept it at bay in Oxford for so many 
 years ; and thus my very retirement was its 
 triumph. The men who had driven me from 
 Oxford were distinctly the Liberals ; it was they 
 who had opened the attack upon Tract 90, and 
 it was they who would gain a second benefit, 
 if I went on to retire from the Anglican Church. 
 But this was not all. As I have already said, 
 there are but two alternatives, the way to Rome, 
 and the way to Atheism : Anglicanism is the 
 halfway house on the one side, and Liberalism 
 is the halfway house on the other. How many 
 men were there, as I knew full well, who would 
 not follow me now in my advance from Angli- 
 canism to Rome, but would at once leave Angli- 
 canism and me for the Liberal camp. It is not 
 at all easy (humanly speaking) to wind up an 
 Englishman to a dogmatic level. I had done 
 so in a good measure, in the case both of young 
 men and of layman, the Anglican Via Media being 
 the representative of dogma. The dogmatic and 
 the Anglican principle were one, as I had taught 
 them ; but I was breaking the Via Media to 
 pieces, and would not dogmatic faith altogether 
 be broken up, in the minds of a great number, 
 by the demolition of the Via Media ? Oh ! how 
 unhappy this made me ! I heard once from an 
 eye-witness the account of a poor sailor whose 
 legs were shattered by a ball, in the action 
 off Algiers in 1816, and who was taken below 
 
1841 to 1845 221 
 
 for an operation. The surgeon and the chaplain 
 persuaded him to have a leg off; it was done 
 and the tourniquet applied to the wound. Then, 
 they broke it to him that he must have the other 
 off too. The poor fellow said ' You should have 
 told me that, gentlemen', and deliberatelv un- 
 screwed the instrument, and bled to death. Would 
 not that be the case with many friends of my 
 own? How could I ever hope to make them 
 believe in a second theology, when I had cheated 
 them in the first ? with what face could I publish 
 a new edition of a dogmatic creed, and ask them 
 to receive it as gospel? Would it not be plain 
 to them that no certainty was to be found any 
 where ? Well, in my defence I could but make 
 a lame apology ; however, it was the true one, viz. 
 that I had not read the Fathers critically enough ; 
 that in such nice points, as those which determine 
 the angle of divergence between the two Churches, 
 I had made considerable miscalculations ; and how 
 came this about? Why the fact was, unpleasant 
 as it was to avow, that I had leaned too much 
 upon the assertions of Ussher, Jeremy Taylor, 
 or Barrow, and had been deceived by them. 
 ' Valeat quantum ', — it was all that could be said. 
 This, then, was a chief reason of that wording of 
 the retractation which has given so much offence, 
 and the following letter will illustrate it: 
 
 April 3, 1844. I wish to remark on W.'s chief distress, 
 that my changing my opinion seemed to unsettle one's 
 confidence in truth and falsehood as external things, and 
 led one to be suspicious of the new opinion as one be- 
 came distrustful of the old. Now, in what I shall say, I 
 am not going to speak in favour of my second thoughts 
 in comparison of my first, but against such scepticism 
 and unsettlement about truth and falsehood generally, 
 the idea of which is very painful. 
 
222 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 The case with me, then, was this, and not surely an 
 unnatural one: as a matter of feeling and of duty I threw 
 myself into the system which I found myself in. I saw 
 that the English Church had a theological idea or theory 
 as such, and I took it up. I read Laud on Tradition, 
 and thought it (as I still think it) very masterly. The 
 Anglican Theory was very distinctive. I admired it, and 
 took it on faith. It did not (I think) occnr to me to 
 doubt it; I saw that it was able, and supported by learning, 
 and I felt it was a duty to maintain it. Further, on look- 
 ing into Antiquity and reading the Fathers, I saw such 
 portions of it as I examined, fully confirmed (e. g. the 
 supremacy of Scripture). There was only one question 
 about which I had a doubt, viz. whether it would ivorlc, 
 for it has never been more than a paper system. . . . 
 
 So far from my change of opinion having any fair 
 tendency to unsettle persons as to truth and falsehood, 
 viewed as objective realities, it should be considered 
 whether such change is not necessary, if truth be a real 
 objective thing, and be made to confront a person who 
 has been brought up in a system short of truth. Surely 
 the continuance of a person who wishes to go right in a 
 wrong system, and not his giving it up, would be that 
 which militated against the objectiveness of Truth, leading, 
 as it would, to the suspicion, that one thing and another 
 were equally pleasing to our Maker, where men were 
 sincere. 
 
 Nor surely is it a thing I need be sorry for, that I 
 defended the system in which I found myself, and thus 
 have had to unsay my words. For is it not one's duty, 
 instead of beginning with criticism, to throw oneself 
 generously into that form of religion which is providen- 
 tially put before one? Is is right, or is it wrong, to 
 begin with private judgment? May we not, on the other 
 hand, look for a blessing through obedience even to an 
 erroneous system, and a guidance even by means of it 
 out of it ? Were those who were strict and conscientious 
 in their Judaism, or those who were lukewarm and scep- 
 tical, more likely to be led into Christianity, when Christ 
 came ? Yet in proportion to their previous zeal would 
 be their appearance of inconsistency. Certainly, I havo 
 always contended that obedience even to an erring con- 
 science was the way to gain light, and that it mattered 
 not where a man began, so that he began on what came 
 to hand, and in faith; and that anything might become 
 a divine method of Truth; that to the pure all things 
 
1841 to 1845 223 
 
 are pure^ and have a self-correcting virtue and a power 
 of germinating. And, though I have no right at all to 
 assume that this mercy is granted to me, yet the fact, 
 that a person in my situation may have it granted to 
 him, seems to me to remove the perplexity -which my 
 change of opinion may occasiou. 
 
 It may he said— I have said it to myself— 'Why, how- 
 ever, did you publish ? Had you waited quietly, you would 
 have changed your opinion without any of the misery, 
 which now is involved in the change, of disappointing 
 and distressing people.' I answer, that things are so 
 bound up together as to form a whole, and one cannot 
 tell what is or is not a condition of what. I do not 
 see how possibly I could have published the Tracts, or 
 other works professing to defend our Church, without 
 accompanying them with a strong protest or argument 
 against Rome. The one obvious objection against the 
 whole Anglican line is, that it is Roman; so that I 
 really think there was no alternative between silence 
 altogether, and forming a theory and attacking the 
 Roman system. 
 
 (2) And now, secondly, as to my resignation 
 of St Mary's, which was the second of the steps 
 which I took in 1 843. The ostensible, direct, 
 and sufficient cause of my doing so was the 
 persevering attack of the bishops on Tract 90. 
 I alluded to it in the letter which I have inserted 
 above, addressed to one of the most influential 
 among them. A series of their ex cathedra judg- 
 ments, lasting through three years, and including 
 a notice of no little severity in a charge of my 
 own bishop, came as near to a condemnation of 
 my tract, and, so far, to a repudiation of the 
 ancient Catholic doctrine, which was the scope 
 of the tract, as was possible in the Church of 
 England. It was in order to shield the Tract 
 from such a condemnation, that I had, at the 
 time of its publication, so simply put myself at 
 the disposal of the higher powers in London. 
 At that time, all that was distinctly contemplated 
 
224 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 in the way of censure, was the message which 
 my bishop sent me, that it was c objectionable'. 
 That I thought was the end of the matter. I 
 had refused to suppress it, and they had yielded 
 that point. Since I wrote the former portions 
 of this narrative, I have found what I wrote to 
 Dr Pusey on March 24, while the matter was 
 in progress. 'The more I think of it', I said, 
 'the more reluctant I am to suppress 'Iract 90, 
 though of coarse I will do it if the bishop wishes 
 it ; I cannot, however, deny that I shall feel it 
 a severe act.' According to the notes which I 
 took of the letters or messages which I sent to 
 him in the course of that day, I went on to say : 
 ' My first feeling was to obey without a word ; 
 I will obey still ; but my judgment has steadily 
 risen against it ever since.' Then, in the post- 
 script, * If I have done any good to the Church, 
 I do ask the bishop this favour, as my reward 
 for it, that he would not insist on a measure 
 from which I think good will not come. How- 
 ever, I will submit to him.' Afterwards, I get 
 stronger still : ' I have almost come to the 
 resolution, if the bishop publicly intimates that 
 I must suppress the Tract, or speaks strongly 
 in his charge against it, to suppress it indeed, 
 but to resign my living also. I could not in 
 conscience act otherwise. You may show this 
 in any quarter you please.' 
 
 All my then hopes, all my satisfaction at the 
 apparent fulfilment of those hopes, were at an 
 end in 1843. It is not wonderful then, that in 
 May of that year I addressed a letter on the 
 subject of St Mary's to the same friend whom 
 I had consulted about retiring from it in 1840. 
 But I did more now; I told him my great 
 
1841 to 1845 225 
 
 unsettlement of mind on the question of the 
 Churches. I will insert portions of two of my 
 letters : 
 
 May 4, 1843. . . At present I fear, as far as I can 
 analyze my own convictions, I consider the Roman Catholic 
 Communion to be the Church of the Apostles, and that 
 what grace is among us (which, through God's mercy, is 
 not little) is extraordinary, and from the overflowings of 
 His dispensation. I am very far more snre that England 
 is in schism, than that the Roman additions to the 
 Primitive creed may not be developments, arising out 
 of a keen and vivid realizing of the Divine Depositum 
 of Faith. 
 
 You will now understand what gives edge to the 
 bishops' Charges without any undue sensitiveness on my 
 part. They distress me in two ways: first, as being in 
 some sense protests and witnesses to my conscience 
 against my own unfaithfulness to the English Church, 
 and next, as being samples of her teaching, and tokens 
 how very far she is from even aspiring to Catholicity. 
 
 Of course my being unfaithful to a trust is my great 
 subject of dread, as it has long been, as you know. 
 
 When he wrote to make natural objections 
 to my purpose, such as the apprehension that 
 the removal of clerical obligations might have 
 the indirect effect of propelling me towards 
 Rome, I answered : 
 
 May 18, 1843. . . My office or charge at St Mary's is 
 not a mere state, but a continual energy. People assume 
 and assert certain things of me in consequence. With 
 what sort of sincerity can I obey the bishop? how am 
 I to act in the frequent cases in which, one way or 
 another, the Church of Rome comes into consideration? 
 I have to the utmost of my power tried to keep persons 
 from Rome, and with some success; but even a year and 
 a half since, my arguments, though more efficacious with 
 the persons I aimed at than any others could be, were 
 of a nature to infuse great suspicion of me into the minds 
 of lookers-on. 
 
 By retaining St. Mary's I am an offence and a stum- 
 bling-block. Persons are keen-sighted enough to make 
 out what I think on certain points, and then they 
 
 15 
 
226 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 infer that such opinions are compatible with holding 
 situations of trust in our Church. A number of younger 
 men take the validity of their interpretation of the 
 Articles, etc., from me on faith. Is not my present position 
 a cruelty, as well as a treachery towards the Church? 
 
 I do not see how I can either preach or publish again, 
 while I hold St Mary's; but consider again the following 
 difficulty in such a resolution, which I must state at 
 some length. 
 
 Last Long Vacation the idea suggested itself to me of 
 publishing the Lives of the English Saints; and I had a 
 conversation with (a publisher) upon it. I thought it 
 would be useful, as employing the minds of men who 
 were in danger of running wild, bringing them from 
 doctrine to history, and from speculation to fact; again, 
 as giving them an interest in the English soil, and the 
 English Church, and keeping them from seeking sympathy 
 in Rome, as she is ; and further, as seeking to promote 
 the spread of right views. 
 
 But, within, the last month, it has come upon me, that, 
 if the scheme goes on, it will be a practical carrying out 
 of No. 90; from the character of the usages and opinions 
 of ante-reformation times. 
 
 It is easy to say 'Why will you do anything? Why 
 won't you keep quiet? What business had you to think 
 of any such plan at all?' But I cannot leave a number 
 of poor fellows in the lurch. I am bound to do my best 
 for a great number of people, both in Oxford and else- 
 where, If / did not act, others would find means to ■ 
 do so. 
 
 Well, the plan has been taken up with great eagerness 
 and interest. Many men are setting to work. I set down 
 the names of men, most of them engaged, the rest half 
 engaged and probable, some actually writing. 
 
 About thirty names follow, some of them at 
 that time of the school of Dr Arnold, others 
 of Dr Pusey's, some my personal friends and 
 of my own standing, others whom I hardly 
 knew, while of course the majority were of the 
 party of the new Movement. I continue: 
 
 The plan has gone so far, that it would create surprise 
 and talk were it now suddenly given over. Yet how is it 
 compatible with my holding St Mary's, being what I am? 
 
1841 to 1845 227 
 
 Such was the object and the origin of the 
 projected series of the English Saints; and, as 
 the publication was connected, as has been seen, 
 with my resignation of St Mary's, I may be 
 allowed to conclude what I have to say on the 
 subject here, though it will read like a digression. 
 As soon then as the first of the series got into 
 print, the whole project broke down. I had 
 already anticipated that some portions of the 
 series would be written in a style inconsistent 
 with the professions of a beneficed clergyman, 
 and therefore I had given up my living; but 
 men of great weight went further, when they 
 saw the Life of St Stephen Harding, and decided 
 that it was of such a character as to be incon- 
 sistent even with its being given to the world 
 by an Anglican publisher: and so the scheme 
 was given up at once. After the two first parts, 
 I retired from the editorship, and those Lives 
 only were published in addition, which were 
 then already finished, or in advanced preparation. 
 The following passages from what I or others 
 wrote at the time will illustrate what I have 
 been saying. 
 
 In November, 1844, I wrote thus to one of 
 the authors of them : 
 
 I am not editor, I have no direct control over the 
 series. It is T.'s work; he may admit what he pleases; 
 and exclude what he pleases. I was to have been 
 editor. I did edit the two first numbers. I was respons- 
 ible for them, in the way in which an editor is respons- 
 ible. Had I continued editor, I should have exercised 
 a control over all. I laid down in the preface that 
 doctrinal subjects were, if possible, to be excluded. But, 
 even then, I also set down that no writer was to be held 
 answerable for any of the Lives but his own. When I 
 gave up the editorship, I had various engagements with 
 friends for separate Lives remaining on my hands. I 
 
228 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 should have liked to have broken from them all, but 
 there were some from which I could not break, and I let 
 them take their course. Some have come to nothing; 
 others, like yours, have gone on. I have seen such, either 
 in MS. or proof. As time goes on, I shall have less and 
 less to do with the series. I think the engagement be- 
 tween you and me should come to an end. I have any- 
 how abundant responsibility on me, and too much. I 
 shall write to T, that if he wants the advantage of your 
 assistance, he must write to you direct. 
 
 In accordance with this letter, I had already 
 advertised, in January 1844, ten months before 
 it, that ' other Lives', after St Stephen Harding, 
 c will be published by their respective authors on 
 their own responsibility.' This notice is repeated 
 in February in the advertisement to the second 
 volume, entitled The Family of St Richard, though 
 to this volume also, for some reason, I also put 
 my initials. In the Life of St Augustine, the 
 author, a man of nearly my own age, says in 
 like manner : ( No one but myself is responsible 
 for the way in which these materials have been 
 used.' I have in MS. another advertisement to 
 the same effect, but I cannot tell whether it 
 was ever put into print. 
 
 I will add, since the authors have been con- 
 sidered hot-headed boys, whom I was in charge 
 of, and whom I suffered to do intemperate 
 things, that, while the writer of St Augustine 
 was of the mature age which I have stated, 
 most of the others were on one side or other \ 
 of thirty. Three were under twenty-five. More- 
 over, of these writers, some became Catholics, 
 some remained Anglicans, and others have profess- 
 ed what are called free or liberal opinions. 
 
 The immediate cause of the resignation off 
 my living is stated in the following letter, 
 which I wrote to my bishop: 
 
1841 to 1845 229 
 
 August 29, 1843. It is with much concern that I inform 
 your Lordship, that Mr. A. B., who has been for the last 
 year an inmate of my house here, has just conformed to 
 the Church of Rome. As I have ever been desirous, not 
 only of faithfully discharging the trust, which is involved 
 in holding a living in your Lordship's diocese, but of 
 approving myself to your Lordship, I will for your in- 
 formation state one or two circumstances connected with 
 this unfortunate event. . . I received him on condition of 
 his promising me, which he distinctly did, that he would 
 remain quietly in our Church for three years. A year 
 has passed since that time, and, though I saw nothing in 
 him which promised that he would eventually be contented 
 with his present position, yet for the time his mind be- 
 came as settled as one could wish, and he frequently 
 expressed his satisfaction at being under the promise 
 which I had exacted of him. 
 
 I felt it impossible to remain any longer in 
 the service of the Anglican Church, when such 
 a breach of trust, however little I had to do 
 with it, would be laid at my door, I wrote in 
 a few days to a friend: 
 
 September 7, 1843. I this day ask the bishop's leave to 
 resign St Mary's. Men whom you little think, or at least 
 whom I little thought, are in almost a hopeless way. 
 Really we may expect anything. I am going to publish 
 a volume of sermons, including those four against 
 moving. 
 
 I resigned my living on September 18th. I 
 had not the means of doing it legally at Ox- 
 ford. The late Mr Goldsmid aided me in resign- 
 ing it in London. I found no fault with the 
 Liberals; they had beaten me in a fair field. 
 As to the act of the bishops, I thought, as 
 Walter Scott has applied the text, that they 
 had ' seethed the kid in his mother's milk/ 
 
 I said to a friend : 
 
 Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni. 
 
230 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 And now I have brought almost to an end, 
 as far as this sketch has to treat of them, the 
 history both of my opinions, and of the public 
 acts which they involved. I had only one more 
 advance of mind to make; and that was to be 
 certain of what I had hitherto anticipated, con- 
 cluded, and believed ; and this was close upon 
 my submission to the Catholic Church. And I 
 had only one more act to perform, and that 
 was the act of submission itself. But two years 
 yet intervened before the date of these final 
 events ; during which I was in lay communion 
 in the Church of England, attending its services 
 as usual, and abstaining altogether from inter- 
 course with Catholics, from their places of worship, 
 and from those religious rites and usages, such as 
 the Invocation of Saints, which are characteristics 
 of their creed. I did all this on principle ; for I 
 never could understand how a man could be of 
 two religions at once. 
 
 What, then, I now have to add is of a private 
 nature, being my preparation for the great event, 
 for which I was waiting, in the interval between 
 the autumns of 1843 and 1845. 
 
 And I shall almost confine what I have to 
 say to this one point, the difficulty I was in as 
 to the best mode of revealing the state of my 
 mind to my friends and others, and how I 
 managed to do it. 
 
 Up to January, 1842, I had not disclosed my 
 state of unset tlement to more than three persons, 
 as has been mentioned above, and is repeated 
 in the letters which I am now about to give 
 to the reader. To two of them, intimate and 
 familiar companions, in the Autumn of 1839; 
 to the third, an old friend too, when, I suppose, 
 
1841 to 1845 SSI 
 
 I was in great distress of mind upon the affair 
 of the Jerusalem Bishopric. In May, 1843, I 
 mentioned it to the friend, by whose advice 
 I wished, as far as possible, to be guided. To 
 mention it on set purpose to any one, unless 
 indeed I was asking advice, I should have felt 
 to be a crime. If there is any thing that was, 
 and is, abhorrent to me, it is the scattering 
 doubts, and unsettling consciences without ne- 
 cessity. A strong presentiment that my existing 
 opinions would ultimately give way, and that 
 the grounds of them were unsound, was not a 
 sufficient warrant for disclosing the state of my 
 mind. I had no guarantee yet, that that presenti- 
 ment would be realized. Supposing I were crossing 
 ice, which came right in my way, which I had good 
 reasons for considering sound, and which I saw 
 numbers before me crossing in safety, and suppo- 
 sing a stranger from the bank, in a voice of 
 authority, and in an earnest tone, warned me 
 that it was dangerous, and then was silent, I 
 think I should be startled, and should look about 
 me anxiously, but I also should go on, till I 
 had better grounds for doubt ; and such was my 
 state, I believe, till the end of 1842. Then, again, 
 when my dissatisfaction became greater, it was 
 hard at first to determine the point of time, 
 when it was too strong to suppress with propriety. 
 Certitude of course is a point, but doubt is a pro- 
 gress ; I was not near certitude yet. Certitude is a 
 reflex action ; it is to know that one knows. I 
 believe I had not that, till close upon my recep- 
 tion into the Catholic Church. Again, a practical, 
 effective doubt is a point too, but who can easily 
 ascertain it for himself? Who can determine 
 when it is, that the scales in the balance of 
 
232 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 opinion begin to turn, and what was a greater 
 probability in behalf of a belief becomes a 
 positive doubt against it? 
 
 In considering this question in its bearing 
 upon my conduct in 1843, my own simple answer 
 to my great difficulty was : ( Do what your present 
 state of opinion requires, and let that doing 
 tell: speak by acts*. This I did; my first act 
 of the year was in February, 1 843. After three 
 month's deliberation, I published my retractation 
 of the violent charges which I had made against 
 Rome : I could not be wrong in doing so much 
 as this ; but I did no more : I did not retract 
 my Anglican teaching. My second act was in 
 September; after much sorrowful lingering and 
 hesitation, I resigned my living. I tried, indeed, 
 to keep Littlemore for myself, even though it 
 was still to remain an integral part of St Mary's. 
 I had made it a Parish, and I loved it; but I 
 did not succeed in my attempt. I could, indeed, 
 bear to become the curate at will of another, 
 but I hoped still that I might have been my 
 own master there. I had hoped an exception 
 might have been made in my favour, under the 
 circumstances ; but I did not gain my request. 
 Indeed, I was asking what was impracticable, 
 and it is well for me that it was so. 
 
 These were my two acts of the year, and I 
 said : ( I cannot be wrong in making them ; let 
 that follow which must follow in the thoughts 
 of the world about me, when they see what I 
 do.' They fully answered my purpose. What 
 I felt as a simple duty to do, did create a 
 general suspicion about me, without such re- 
 sponsibility as would be involved in my taking 
 the initiative in creating it. Then, when friends 
 
1841 to 1845 233 
 
 wrote me on the subject, I either did not deny 
 or I confessed it, according to the character 
 and need of their letters. Sometimes, in the 
 case of intimate friends, whom I seemed to 
 leave in ignorance of what others knew about 
 me, I invited the question. 
 
 And here comes in another point for ex- 
 planation. While I was fighting for the Angli- 
 can Church in Oxford, then, indeed, I w T as very 
 glad to make converts, and, though I never 
 broke away from that rule of my mind (as I 
 may call it) of which I have already spoken, 
 of finding disciples rather than seeking them, 
 yet, that I made advances to others in a special 
 way, I have no doubt ; this came to an end, 
 however, as soon as I fell into misgivings as to 
 the true ground to be taken in the controversy. 
 Then, when I gave up my place in the Move- 
 ment, I ceased from any such proceeding: and 
 my utmost endeavour was to tranquillize such 
 persons, especially those who belonged to the 
 new school, as were unsettled in their relig- 
 ious views, and, as I judged, hasty in their 
 conclusions. This went on till 1843; but, at 
 that date, as soon as I turned my face Rome- 
 ward, I gave up altogether, and in any shape, 
 as far as ever was possible, the thought of 
 acting upon others. Then I myself was 
 simply my own concern. How could I in any 
 sense direct others, who had to be guided in 
 so momentous a matter myself? How could I 
 be considered in a position even to say a word 
 to them one way or the other? How could I 
 presume to unsettle them, as I was unsettled, 
 when I had no means of bringing them out of 
 such unsettlement ? And, if they were unsettled 
 
.234 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 already, how could I point out to them a place 
 of refuge, which I was not sure that I should 
 choose for myself? My only line, my only duty, 
 was to keep simply to my own case. I recollected 
 Pascal's words ' Je mourrai seul.' I deliberately 
 put out of my thoughts all other works and 
 claims, and said nothing to any one, unless I 
 was obliged. 
 
 But this brought upon me a great trouble. 
 In the newspapers there were continual reports 
 about my intentions ; I did not answer them. 
 Presently strangers or friends wrote, begging to 
 be allowed to answer them ; and, if I still kept 
 to my resolution, and said nothing, then I was 
 thought to be mysterious, and a prejudice was 
 excited against me. But, what was far worse, 
 there were a number of tender, eager hearts, 
 of whom I knew nothing at all, who were 
 watching me, wishing to think as I thought, 
 and to do as I did, if they could but find it 
 out; who in consequence were distressed, that, 
 in so solemn a matter, they could not see what 
 was coming, and who heard reports about me 
 this way or that, on a first day and on a second ; 
 and felt the weariness of waiting, and the sickness 
 of delayed hope, and did not understand that I 
 was as perplexed as themselves, and, being of 
 more sensitive complexion of mind than myself, 
 were made ill by the suspense. And they, too, 
 of course for the time, thought me mysterious 
 and inexplicable. I ask their pardon as far as 
 I was really unkind to them. There was a gifted 
 and deeply earnest lady, who, in a parabolical 
 account of that time, has described both my 
 conduct as she felt it, and that of such as herself. 
 In a singularly graphic, amusing vision of pilgrims, 
 
1841 to 1845 235 
 
 who were making their way across a bleak common 
 in great discomfort, and who were ever warned 
 against, yet continually nearing, 'the king's 
 highway' on the right, she says 'All my fears 
 and disquiets were speedily renewed by seeing 
 the most daring of our leaders (the same who 
 had first forced his way through the palisade, 
 and in whose courage and sagacity we all put 
 implicit trust) suddenly stop short, and declare 
 that he would go on no further. He did not, 
 however, take the leap at once, but quietly 
 sat down on the top of the fence with his feet 
 hanging towards the road, as if he meant to 
 take his time about it, and let himself down 
 easily.' I do not wonder at all that I thus 
 seemed so unkind to a lady, who at that time 
 had never seen me. We were both in trial in 
 our different ways. I am far from denying 
 that I was acting selfishly both towards them 
 and towards others ; but it was a religious 
 selfishness. Certainly, to myself, my own duty 
 seemed clear. They that are whole can heal 
 others ; but in my case it was ' Physician, heal 
 thyself.' My own soul was my first concern, 
 and it seemed an absurdity to my reason to be 
 converted in partnership. I wished to go to 
 my Lord by myself, and in my own way, or 
 rather His way. I had neither wish, nor, I 
 may say, thought of taking a number with 
 me. But nothing of this could be known to 
 others. 
 
 The following three letters are written to a 
 friend who had every claim upon me to be 
 frank with him : it will be seen that I disclose 
 my real state of mind to him, in proportion as 
 he presses me. 
 
236 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 1. October 14, 1843. I would tell you in a few words 
 why I have resigned St Mary's, as you seem to wish, 
 were it possible to do so. But it is most difficult to bring 
 out in brief, or even in extenso, any just view of my 
 feelings and reasons. 
 
 The nearest approach I can give to a general account 
 of them is to say, that it has been caused by the general 
 repudiation of the view contained in No. 90, on the part 
 of the Church. I could not stand against such an un- 
 animous expression of opinion from the bishops, supported, 
 as it has been, by the concurrence, or at least silence, 
 of all classes in the Church, lay and clerical. If there 
 ever was a case in which an individual teacher has been 
 put aside, and virtually put away, by a community, mine 
 is one. No decency has been observed in the attacks 
 upon me from authority; no protests have been offered 
 against them. It is felt — I am far from denying, justly 
 felt— that I am a foreign material, and cannot assimilate 
 with the Church of England. 
 
 Even my own bishop has said that my mode of inter- 
 preting the Articles makes them mean anything or 
 nothing. When I heard this delivered, I did not believe 
 my ears. I denied to others that it was said. . . . Out 
 came the charge, and the words could not be mistaken. 
 This astonished me the more, because I published that 
 letter to him, (how unwillingly you know), on the under- 
 standing that / was to deliver his judgment on No. 90 
 instead of him. A year elapses, and a second and heavier 
 judgment came forth. I did not bargain for this— nor 
 did he, but the tide was too strong for him. 
 
 I fear that I must confess, that, in proportion as I 
 think the English Church is showing herself intrinsically 
 and radically alien from Catholic principles, so do I feel 
 the difficulties of defending her claims to be a branch of 
 the Catholic Church. It seems a dream to call a com- 
 munion Catholic, when one can neither appeal to any 
 clear statement of Catholic doctrine in its formularies, nor 
 interpret ambiguous formularies by the received and 
 living Catholic sense, whether past or present. Men of 
 Catholic views are too truly but a party in our Church. 
 I cannot deny that many other independent circumstances, 
 which it is not worth while entering into, have led me to 
 the same conclusion. 
 
 I do not say all this to every body, as you may sup- 
 pose; but I do not like to make a secret of it to you. 
 
 2. Oct. 25, 1843. You have engaged in a dangerous 
 
1841 to 1845 237 
 
 correspondence; I am deeply sorry for the pain I shall 
 give you. 
 
 I mnst tell you then frankly (but I combat arguments 
 which to me, alas ! are shadows) that it is not from dis- 
 appointment, irritation, or impatience, that I have, whether 
 rightly or wrongly, resigned St Mary's; but because I 
 think the Church of Rome the Catholic Church, and ours 
 not part of the Catholic Church, because not in com- 
 munion with Rome; and because I feel that I could not 
 honestly be a teacher in it any longer. 
 
 This thought came to me last summer four years. . . 
 I mentioned it to two friends in the autumn. . . It arose 
 in the first instance from the Monophysite and Donatist 
 controversies, the former of which I was engaged with 
 in the course of theological study to which I had given 
 myself. This was at a time when no bishop, I believe, 
 had declared against us, and when all was progress and 
 hope. I do not think I have ever felt disappointment or 
 impatience, certainly not then; for I never looked forward 
 to the fnture, nor do I realize it now. 
 
 My first effort was to write that article on the Cathol- 
 icity of the English Church; for two years it quieted me. 
 Since the summer of 1839, I have written little or nothing 
 on modern controversy. . . You know how unwillingly I 
 wrote my letter to the bishop in which I committed my- 
 self again, as the safest course under circumstances. The 
 article I speak of quieted me till the end of 1841, over 
 the affair of No. 90, when that wretched Jerusalem 
 Bishopric (no personal matter) revived all my alarms. 
 They have increased up to this moment. At that time I 
 told my secret to another person in addition. 
 
 You see, then, that the various ecclesiastical and quasi- 
 ecclesiastical acts, which have taken place in the course 
 of the last two years and a half, are not the cause of my 
 state of opinion, but are keen stimulants and weighty 
 confirmations of a conviction forced upon me, while engaged 
 in the course of duty, viz. that theological reading to which 
 I had given myself. And this last-mentioned circumstance 
 is a fact, which has never, I think, come before me till 
 now that I write to you. 
 
 It is three years since, on account of my state of opinion, 
 I urged the Provost in vain to let St Mary's be separated 
 from Littlemore; thinking I might with a safe conscience 
 serve the latter, though I could not comfortably continue 
 in so public a place as a University. This was before 
 No. 90. 
 
238 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 Finally, I have acted under advice, and that not of my 
 own choosing, but what came to me in the way of duty, 
 nor the advice of those only who agree with me, but of 
 near friends who differ from me. 
 
 I have nothing to reproach myself with, as far as I see, 
 in the matter of impatience; i. e. practically or in conduct. 
 And I trust that He who has kept me in the slow course 
 of change hitherto will keep me still from hasty acts, or 
 resolves with a doubtful conscience. 
 
 This I am sure of, that such interposition as yours, 
 kind as it is, only does what you would consider harm. 
 It makes me realize my own views to myself; it makes 
 me see their consistency; it assures me of my own delib- 
 erateness; it suggests to me the traces of a Providential 
 Hand; it takes away the pain of disclosures; it relieves 
 me of a heavy secret. 
 
 You may make what use of my letters you think right. 
 
 My correspondent wrote to me once more, 
 and I replied thus: 
 
 October 31, 1843. Your letter has made my heart ache 
 more, and caused me more and deeper sighs than any I 
 have had a long while, though I assure you there is 
 much on all sides of me to cause sighing and heart-ache. 
 On all sides I am quite haunted by the one dreadful 
 whisper repeated from so many quarters, and causing the 
 keenest distress to friends. You know but a part of my 
 present trial, in knowing that I am unsettled myself. 
 
 Since the beginning of this year, I have been obliged to 
 tell the state of my mind to some others; but never, I 
 think, without being in a way obliged, as from friends 
 writing to me as you did, or guessing how matters stood. 
 No one in Oxford knows it, or here (Littlemore), but one 
 friend whom I felt I could not help telling the other day. 
 But, I suppose, very many suspect it. 
 
 On receiving these letters, my correspondent, 
 if I recollect rightly, at once communicated the 
 matter of them to Dr Pusey, and this will 
 enable me to state as nearly as I can the way 
 in which my changed state of opinion was made 
 known to him. 
 
 I had from the first a great difficulty in 
 
1841 to 1845 239 
 
 making Dr Pusey understand such differences 
 of opinion as existed between himself and me. 
 When there was a proposal, about the end of 
 1838, for a subscription for a Cranmer Memorial, 
 he wished us both to subscribe together to it. 
 I could not, of course, and wished him to sub- 
 scribe by himself. That he would not do; he 
 could not bear the thought of our appearing 
 to the world in separate positions, in a matter 
 of importance. And, as time went on, he would 
 not take any hints, which I gave him, on the 
 subject of my growing inclination to Rome. 
 When I found him so determined, I often had not 
 the heart to go on. And then I knew, that, 
 from affection to me, he so often took up and 
 threw himself into what I said, that I felt the 
 great responsibility I should incur, if I put things 
 before him just as I might view them. And, 
 not knowing him so well as I did afterwards, 
 I feared lest I should unsettle him. And more- 
 over, I recollected well how prostrated he had 
 been with illness in 1832, and I used always 
 to think that the start of the Movement had 
 given him a fresh life. I fancied that his physical 
 energies even depended on the presence of a 
 vigorous hope and bright prospects for his imagin- 
 ation to feed upon ; so much so, that when he 
 was so unworthily treated by the authorities of 
 the place in 1843, I recollected writing to the 
 late Mr Dodsworth to state my anxiety, lest, if 
 his mind became dejected in consequence, his 
 health would suffer seriously also. These were 
 difficulties in my way ; and then, again, another 
 difficulty was, that, as we were not together 
 under the same roof, we only saw each other 
 at set times ; others, indeed, who were coming 
 
240 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 in or out of my rooms freely, and as there 
 might be need at the moment, knew all my 
 thoughts easily ; but for him to know them 
 well, formal efforts were necessary. A common 
 friend of ours broke it all to him in 1841, as 
 far as matters had gone at that time, and showed 
 him clearly the logical conclusions which must 
 lie in propositions to which 1 had committed 
 myself; but somehow or other, in a little while, 
 his mind fell back into its former happy state, 
 and he could not bring himself to believe that 
 he and I should not go on pleasantly together 
 to the end. But that affectionate dream needs 
 must have been broken at last ; and two years 
 afterwards, that friend to whom I wrote the 
 letters which I have just now inserted, set 
 himself, as I have said, to break it. Upon that, 
 I too begged Dr Pusey to tell in private to 
 any one he would, that I thought, in the event, 
 I should leave the Church of England. However, 
 he would not do so; and, at the end of 1844, 
 had almost relapsed into his former thoughts 
 about me, if I may judge from a letter of his 
 which I have found. Nay, at the Commemoration 
 of 1 845, a few months before I left the Anglican 
 Church, I think he said about me to a friend, 
 e l trust after all we shall keep him/ 
 
 In that autumn of 1843, at the time that I 
 spoke to Dr Pusey, I asked another friend also 
 to communicate to others, in confidence, the 
 prospect which lay before me. 
 
 To another friend I gave the opportunity of 
 knowing it, if he would, in the following postscript 
 to a letter: 
 
 While I write, I will add a word about myself. You 
 may come near a person or two, who, owing to circum- 
 
1841 to 1845 241 
 
 stances, know more exactly my state of feeling than yon 
 do, thongh they wonld not tell yon. Now I do not like 
 that yon shonld not be aware of this, though I see no 
 reason why yon shonld know what they happen to know. 
 Your wishing it otherwise would be a reason. 
 
 I had a dear and old friend, near his death ; 
 I never told him my state of mind. Why should I 
 unsettle that sweet calm tranquility, when I had 
 nothing to offer him instead? I could not say, 
 c Go to Rome ' ; else I should have shown him 
 the way. Yet I offered myself for examination. 
 One day he led the way to my speaking out ; 
 but, rightly or wrongly, I could not respond. 
 My reason was 'I have no certainty on the 
 matter myself. To say "I think" is to tease 
 and to distress, not to persuade/ 
 
 I wrote to him on Michaelmas Day, 1 843 : 
 
 As you may suppose, I have nothing to write to you 
 about, pleasant. I could tell you some very painful 
 things; but it is best not to anticipate trouble, which 
 after all can but happen, and, for what one knows, may 
 be averted. You are always so kind, that sometimes, 
 when I part with you, I am nearly moved to tears, and 
 it would be a relief to be so, at your kindness and at 
 my hardness. I think no one ever had such kind friends 
 as I have. 
 
 The next year, January 22, I wrote to him: 
 
 Pusey has quite enough on him, and generously takes- 
 on himself more than enough, for me to add burdens 
 when I am not obliged ; particularly too, when I am very 
 conscious, that there are burdens, which I am, or shall 
 be, obliged to lay upon him some time or other, whether 
 I will or no. 
 
 And on February 21: Half-past ten. I am just up, 
 having a bad cold; the like has not happened to me 
 (except twice in January) in my memory. You may think 
 you have been in my thoughts, long before my rising. 
 Of course you are so continually, as you well know. I 
 could not come to see you; I am not worthy of friends. 
 With my opinions, to the full of which I dare not confess, 
 I feel like a guilty person with others, though I trust I 
 
 16 
 
242 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 am not so. People kindly think that I have much to 
 bear externally, disappointment, slander, etc. No, I have 
 nothing to bear, but the anxiety which I feel for my 
 friends' anxiety for me, and their perplexity. This 
 (letter) is a better Ash-Wednesday than birthday present (his 
 birthday was the same day as mine; it was Ash-Wednesday 
 that year) ; but I cannot help writing about what is up- 
 permost. And now all kindest and best wishes to you, 
 my oldest friend, whom I must not speak more about, 
 and with leference to myself, lest you should be angry. 
 
 It was not in his nature to have doubts : lie 
 used to look at me with anxiety, and wonder 
 what had come over me. 
 
 On Easter Monday: 
 
 All that is good and gracious descend upon you and 
 yours from the influences of this Blessed Season; and it 
 will be so, (so be it!) for what is the life of you all, as 
 day passes after day, but a simple endeavour to serve 
 Him, from whom all blessing comes? Though we are 
 separated in place, yet this we have in common, that 
 you are living a calm and cheerful time, and I am enjoy- 
 ing the thought of you. It is your blessing to have a 
 clear heaven, and peace around, according to the blessing 
 pronounced on Benjamin. So it is, and so may it ever be. 
 
 He was in simple good faith. He died in 
 September that year. I had expected that his 
 last illness would have brought light to my 
 mind, as to what I ought to do. It brought 
 none. I made a note, which runs thus : ' I sobbed 
 bitterly over his coffin, to think that he left me 
 still dark as to what the way of truth was, and 
 what I ought to do in order to please God and 
 fulfil His will/ I think I wrote to Charles Marriott 
 to say, that at that moment, with the thought of 
 my friend before me, my strong view in favour 
 of Rome remained just what it was. On the other 
 hand, my firm belief that grace was to be found 
 in the Anglican Church remained too. I wrote 
 to a friend upon his death: 
 
1841 to 1845 243 
 
 Sept. 16, 1844. I am full of wrong and miserable feel- 
 ings, which it is useless to detail, so grudging and sullen, 
 when I should be thankful. Of course, when one sees 
 so blessed an end, and that the termination of so blame- 
 less a life, of one who really fed on our ordinances and 
 got strength from them, and sees the same continued in 
 a whole family, the little children finding quite a solace 
 of their pain in the Daily Prayer, it is impossible not to 
 feel more at ease in our Church, as at least a sort of 
 Zoar, a place of refuge and temj)orary rest, because of 
 the steepness of the way. Only, may we be kept from 
 unlawful security, lest we have Moab and Ammon for 
 our progeny, the enemies of Israel. 
 
 I could not continue in this state, either in\ 
 the light of duty or of reason. My difficulty 
 was this : I had been deceived greatly once ; 
 how could I be sure that I was not deceived 
 a second time? I then thought myself right; 
 how was I to be certain that I was right now ? 
 How many years had I thought myself sure of 
 what I now rejected? how could I ever again 
 have confidence in myself? /As in 1840 I listened 
 to the rising doubt in favour of Rome, now I 
 listened to the waning doubt in favour of the 
 English Church. To be certain is to know that 
 one knows; what test had I, that I should not 
 change again, after that I had become a Catholic ? 
 I had still apprehension of this, though I thought 
 a time would come, when it would depart. How- 
 ever, some limit ought to be put to these vague 
 misgivings ; I must do my best, and then leave it 
 to a higher power to prosper it. So, I determined 
 to write an essay on Doctrinal Development ; and 
 then, if, at the end of it, my convictions in favour 
 of the Roman Church were not weaker, to make up 
 my mind to seek admission into her fold. I acted 
 upon this resolution in the beginning of 1845, 
 and worked at my Essay steadily into the autumn. 
 
244 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 I told my resolution to various friends at the 
 beginning of the year; indeed, it was at that 
 time known generally. I wrote to a friend thus : 
 
 My intention is, if nothing comes upon me, which I 
 cannot foresee, to remain quietly in statu quo for a con- 
 siderable time, trusting that my friends will kindly re- 
 member me and my trial in their prayers. And I should 
 give up my fellowship some time before any thing fur- 
 ther took place. 
 
 One very dear friend, now no more, Charles 
 Marriott, sent me a letter at the beginning of 
 the next year, from which, from love of him, 
 I quote some sentences : 
 
 January 15, 1845. You know me well enough to be 
 aware, that I never see through anything at first. Your 
 letter to B. casts a gloom over the future, which you 
 can understand, if you have understood me, as I believe 
 you have. But I may speak out at once, of what I see 
 and feel at once, and doubt not that I shall ever feel: 
 that your whole conduct towards the Church of England 
 and towards us, who have striven, and are still striving, 
 to seek after God for ourselves, and to revive true religion 
 among others, under her authority and guidance, has 
 been generous and considerate, and, were that word ap- 
 propriate, dutiful, to a degree that I could scarcely have 
 conceived possible, more unsparing of self than I should 
 have thought nature could sustain. I have felt with 
 pain every link that you have severed, and I have asked 
 no questions, because I felt that you ought to measure 
 the disclosure of your thoughts according to the occasion, 
 and the capacity of those to whom you spoke. I write 
 in haste, in the midst of engagements engrossing in them- 
 selves, but partly made tasteless, partly embittered by 
 what I have heard; but I am willing to trust even you, 
 whom I love best on earth, in God's Hand, in the earnest 
 prayer that you may be so employed as is best for the 
 Holy Catholic Church. 
 
 There was a lady who was very anxious on the 
 subject, and I wrote to her the following letters : 
 
 1. October, 184:4. What can I say more to your purpose ? 
 If you will ask me any specific questions, I will answer 
 them, as far as I am able. 
 
1841 to 1845 245 
 
 2. November 7, 1844. I am still where I was; I am 
 not moving. Two things, however, seem plain, that every 
 one is prepared for snch an event, next, that every one 
 expects it of me. Few indeed, who do not think it suit- 
 able, fewer still, who do not think it likely. However, 
 I do not think it either suitable or likely. I have very 
 little reason to doubt about the issue of things, but the 
 when and the how are known to Him, from whom, I 
 trust, both the course of things and the issue come. The 
 expression of opinion, and the latent and habitual feeling 
 about me, which is on every side and among all parties, 
 has great force. I insist upon it, because I have a great 
 dread of going by my own feelings, lest they should mis- 
 lead me. By one's sense of duty one must go; but ex- 
 ternal facts support one in doing so. 
 
 3. January 8, 1845. My full belief is, in accordance 
 with your letter, that, if there is a move in our Church, 
 very few persons indeed will be partners to it. I doubt 
 whether one or two at the most among residents at 
 Oxford. And I don't know whether I can wish it. The 
 state of the Roman Catholics is at present so unsatisfac- 
 tory. This I am sure of, that nothing but a simple, 
 direct call of duty is a warrant for anyone leaving our 
 Church : no preference of another Church, no delight in 
 its services, no hope of greater religious advancement in 
 it, no indignation, no disgust, at the persons and things, 
 among which we may find ourselves in the Church of 
 England. The simple question is, Can 1 (it is personal, 
 not whether another, but can 1) be saved in the English 
 Church? Am I in safety, were I to die to-night? Is it 
 a mortal sin in me, not joining another communion ? 
 P.S. I hardly see ray way to concur in attendance, though 
 occasional, in the Roman Catholic chapel, unless a man 
 has made up his mind pretty well to join it eventually. 
 Invocations are not required in the Church of Rome ; 
 somehow, I do not like using them, except under the 
 sanction of the Church, and this makes me unwilling to 
 admit them in members of our Church. 
 
 4. March 30. Now I will tell you more than any one 
 knows except two friends. My own convictions are as 
 strong as I suppose they can become: only it is so 
 difficult to know whether it is a call of reason or of con- 
 science. I cannot make out, if I am impelled by what 
 seems clear, or by a sense of duty. You can understand 
 how painful this doubt is; so I have waited, hoping for 
 light, and using the words of the Psalmist 'Show some 
 
246 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 token upon me'. But I suppose I have no right to wait 
 for ever for this. Then I am waiting because friends 
 are most considerately bearing me in mind, and asking 
 guidance for me; and, I trust, I should attend to any 
 new feelings which came upon me, should that be the effect 
 of their kindness. And then this waiting subserves the 
 purpose of preparing men's minds. I dread shocking, un- 
 settling people. Anyhow, I can't avoid giving incal- 
 culable pain. So, if I had my will, I should like to wait 
 till tho summer of 1846, which would be a full seven 
 years from the time that my convictions first began to 
 fall on me. But I don't think I shall last so long. 
 
 My present intention is to give up my Fellowship in 
 October, and to publish some work or treatise between 
 that and Christmas. I wish people to know why I 
 am acting, as well as what I am doing; it takes off 
 that vague and distressing surprise. * What can have 
 made him?' 
 
 5. June 1. "What you tell me of yourself makes it 
 plain that it is your duty to remain quietly and patiently, 
 till you see more clearly where you are; else you are 
 leaping in the dark. 
 
 In the early part of this year, if not before, 
 there was an idea afloat that my retirement 
 from the Anglican Church was owing to the 
 feeling that I had so been thrust aside, without 
 anyone's taking my part. Various measures 
 were, I believe, talked of in consequence of this 
 surmise. Coincidently with it was an exceed- 
 ingly kind article about me in a quarterly, in 
 its April number. The writer praised me in 
 feeling and beautiful language, far above my 
 deserts. In the course of his remarks, he said, 
 speaking of me as vicar of St Mary's : ' He had 
 the future race of clergy hearing him. Did he 
 value and feel tender about, and cling to his 
 position ? . . Not at all. . . No sacrifice to him 
 perhaps, he did not care about such things.' 
 
 This was the occasion of my writing to a very 
 intimate friend the following letter; 
 
1841 to 1845 24? 
 
 April 3, 1845. . . Accept this apology, my dear C, 
 and forgive me. As I say so, tears come into my eyes — 
 that arises from the accident of this time, when I am 
 giving up so much I love. Just now I have been overset 
 by A. B.'s article in the C. D. ; yet really, my dear 0., I 
 have never for an instant had even the temptation of 
 repenting my leaving Oxford. The feeling of repentance 
 has not even come into my mind. How could it? How 
 could I remain at St Mary's a hypocrite ? How could I be 
 answerable for souls (and life so uncertain), with the 
 convictions, or at least persuasions, which I had upon me? 
 It is indeed a responsibility to act as I am doing; and I 
 feel His hand heavy on me without intermission, who is 
 all Wisdom and Love, so that my heart and mind are 
 tired out, just as the limbs might be from a load on 
 one's back. That sort of dull aching pain is mine; but 
 my responsibility really is nothing to what it would be, 
 to be answerable for souls, for confiding loving souls, in 
 the English Church, with my convictions. My love to 
 Marriott, and save me the pain of sending him a line. 
 
 In July, a bishop thought it worth while to 
 give out to the world, that 'the adherents of 
 Mr Newman are few in number. A short time 
 will now probably suffice to prove this fact. It 
 is well known that he is preparing for secession ; 
 and, when that event takes place, it will be 
 seen how few will go with him.' 
 
 All this time I was hard at my Essay on Doc- 
 trinal Development. As I advanced, my view so 
 cleared that, instead of speaking any more of 
 'the Roman Catholics', I boldly called them 
 Catholics. Before I got to the end, I resolved 
 to be received, and the book remains in the 
 state in which it was then, unfinished. 
 
 On October 8th, I wrote to a number of 
 friends the following letter: 
 
 Littlemore, October 8, 1845. I am this night expecting 
 Father Dominic, the Passionist, who, from his youth, has 
 been led to have distinct and direct thoughts, first of the 
 countries of the North, then of England. After thirty 
 
248 MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 years' (almost) waiting, he was, without his own act, sent 
 here. But he has had little to do with conversions. 
 I saw him here for a few minutes on St John Baptist's 
 day last year. He does not know of my intention; but 
 I mean to ask of him admission into the one Fold of 
 Christ. . . . 
 
 I have so many letters to write, that this must do for 
 all who choose to ask about me. With my best love to 
 dear Charles Marriott, who is over your head, etc., etc. 
 
 P.S. This will not go till all is over. Of course it 
 requires no answer. 
 
 For a while after my reception, I proposed 
 to betake myself to some secular calling. I 
 wrote thus in answer to a very gracious letter 
 of congratulation : 
 
 Nov. 25, 1845. I hope you will have anticipated, before 
 I express it, the great gratification which I received from 
 your Eminence's letter. That gratification, however, was 
 tempered by the apprehension, that kind and anxious 
 well-wishers at a distance attach more importance to my 
 step than really belongs to it. To me, indeed, personally 
 it is of course an inestimable gain; but persons and 
 things look great at a distance, which are not so when seen 
 close; and, did your Eminence know me, you would see 
 that I was one, about whom there has been far more 
 talk for good and bad than he deserves, and about whose 
 movements far more expectation has been raised than the 
 event will justify. 
 
 As I never, I do trust, aimed at any thing else than 
 obedience to my own sense of right, and have been 
 magnified into the leader of a party without my wishing 
 it or acting as such, so now, much as I may wish to the 
 contrary, and earnestly as I may labour (as is my duty) 
 to minister in a humble way to the Catholic Church, yet 
 my powers will, I fear, disappoint the expectations of 
 both my own friends, and of those who pray for the 
 peace of Jerusalem. 
 
 If I might ask of your Eminence a favour, it is that 
 you would kindly moderate those anticipations. "Would 
 it were in my power to do, what I do not aspire to do! 
 At present, certainly, I cannot look forward to the future, 
 and, though it would be a good work if I could persuade 
 others to do as I have done, yet it seems as if I had 
 quite enough to do in thinking of myself. 
 
1841 To 1845 249 
 
 Soon, Dr Wiseman, in whose Vicariate Oxford 
 lay, called me to Oscott; and I went there 
 with others; afterwards he sent me to Rome, 
 and finally placed me in Birmingham. 
 
 I wrote to a friend : 
 
 January 20, 1846. You may think how lonely I am. 
 1 Obliviscere popnlum tuum et domum patris tui' has been 
 in my ears for the last twelve hours. I realize more, that we 
 are leaving Littlemore, and it is like going on the open sea. 
 
 I left Oxford for good on Monday, February 
 23, 1846. On the Saturday and Sunday before, 
 I was in my house at Littlemore, simply by 
 myself, as I had been for the first day or two 
 when I had originally taken possession of it. 
 I slept on Sunday night at my dear friend's, 
 Mr Johnson's, at the Observatory. Various 
 friends came to see the last of me ; Mr Copeland, 
 Mr Church, Mr Buckle, Mr Pattison, and Mi- 
 Lewis. Dr Pusey, too, came up to take leave 
 of me ; and I called on Dr Ogle, one of my 
 very oldest friends, for he was my private tutor, 
 when I was an undergraduate. In him I took 
 leave of my first College, Trinity, which was 
 so dear to me, and which held on its foundation 
 so many who have been kind to me, both when 
 I was a boy, and all through my Oxford life. 
 Trinity had never been unkind to me. There used 
 to be much snapdragon growing on the walls 
 opposite my freshman's rooms there, and I had 
 for years taken it as the emblem of my own perpet- 
 ual residence, even unto death, in my University. 
 
 On the morning of the 23rd, I left the Observ- 
 atory. I have never seen Oxford since, except- 
 ing its spires, as they are seen from the railway. 
 
 THE END 
 

 
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