Apologia pro vita sua being a history of his religious opinions
Canon of Scripture, &c. &c. 5. The analogy of the Old Testament, and
also of the New, leads to the acknowledgment of doctrinal developments."
4. And thus I was led on to a further consideration. I saw that the
principle of development not only accounted for certain facts, but was
in itself a remarkable 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 Constantinople, just as a mathematical curve
has its own law and expression.
5. And thus again I was led on to examine more attentively what I doubt
not was in my thoughts long before, viz. the concatenation of argument
by which the mind ascends from its first to its final religious idea;
and I came to the conclusion that there was no medium, in true
philosophy, between Atheism and Catholicity, and that a perfectly
consistent mind, under those circumstances in which it finds itself here
below, must embrace either the one or the other. And I hold this still:
I am a Catholic by virtue of my believing in a God; and if I am asked
why I believe in a God, I answer that it is because I believe in myself,
for I feel it impossible to believe in my own existence (and of that
fact I am quite sure) without believing also in the existence of Him,
who lives as a Personal, All-seeing, All-judging Being in my conscience.
Now, I dare say, I have not expressed myself with philosophical
correctness, because I have not given myself to the study of what
metaphysicians have said on the subject; but I think I have a strong
true meaning in what I say which will stand examination.
6. Moreover, I found a corroboration of the fact of the logical
connexion of Theism with Catholicism in a consideration parallel to that
which I had adopted on the subject of development of doctrine. The fact
of the operation from first to last of that principle of development in
the truths of Revelation, is an argument in favour of the identity of
Roman and Primitive Christianity; 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 first chapter of this Narrative I spoke of
certitude 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 recollected that I am historically
relating my state of mind, at the period of my life which I am
surveying. I am not speaking theologically, nor have I any intention of
going into controversy, or of defending myself; but speaking
historically of what I held in 1843-4, I say, that I believed in a God
on a ground of probability, that I believed in Christianity on a
probability, and that I believed in Catholicism on a probability, and
that these three grounds of probability, distinct from each other of
course in subject matter, were still all of them one and the same in
nature of proof, as being probabilities--probabilities of a special
kind, a cumulative, a transcendent probability but still probability;
inasmuch as He who made us has so willed, that in mathematics indeed we
should arrive at certitude by rigid demonstration, but in religious
inquiry we should arrive at certitude by accumulated probabilities;--He
has willed, I say, that we should so act, and, as willing it, He
co-operates with us in our acting, and thereby enables us to do that
which He wills us to do, and carries us on, if our will does but
co-operate with His, to 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 not proceeding on any secondary or isolated grounds of reason, or by
controversial points in detail, but was protected and justified, even in
the use of those secondary or particular arguments, by a great and broad
principle. But, let it be observed, that I am stating a matter of fact,
not defending it; and if any Catholic says in consequence that I have
been converted in a wrong way, I cannot help that now.
I have nothing more to say on the subject of the change in my religious
opinions. On the one hand I came gradually to see that the Anglican
Church was formally in the wrong, on the other that the Church of Rome
was formally in the right; then, that no valid reasons could be assigned
for continuing in the Anglican, and again that no valid objections could
be taken to joining the Roman. Then, I had nothing more to learn; what
still remained for my conversion, was, not further change of opinion,
but to change opinion itself into the clearness and firmness of
intellectual conviction.
Now I proceed to detail the acts, to which I committed myself during
this last stage of my inquiry.
* * * * *
In 1843, I took two very significant steps:--1. In February, I made a
formal Retractation of all the hard things which I had said against the
Church of Rome. 2. In September, I resigned the Living of St. Mary's,
Littlemore included:--I will speak of these two acts separately.
1. The words, in which I made my Retractation, have given rise to much
criticism. After quoting a number of passages from my writings against
the Church of Rome, which I withdrew, I ended thus:--"If you ask me how
an individual could venture, not simply to hold, but to publish such
views of a communion so ancient, so wide-spreading, so fruitful in
Saints, I answer that I said to myself, 'I am not speaking my own words,
I am but following almost a _consensus_ of the divines of my own Church.
They have ever used the strongest language against Rome, even the most
able and learned of them. I wish to throw myself into their system.
While I say what they say, I am safe. Such views, too, are necessary for
our position.' Yet I have reason to fear still, that such language is to
be ascribed, in no small measure, to an impetuous temper, a hope of
approving myself to persons I respect, and a wish to repel the charge of
Romanism."
These words have been, and are, again and again cited 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 their plain meaning has been satisfactorily brought out by what I
have said in former portions of this Narrative; still I have a word or
two to say in addition to my former remarks upon them.
In the passage in question I apologize for _saying out_ in controversy
charges against the Church of Rome, which withal I affirm that I fully
_believed_ at the time when I made them. What is wonderful in such an
apology? There are surely many things a man may hold, which at the same
time he may feel that he has no right to say publicly, and which it may
annoy him that he has said publicly. The law recognizes this principle.
In our own time, men have been imprisoned and fined for saying true
things of a bad king. The maxim has been held, that, "The greater the
truth, the greater is the libel." And so as to the judgment of society,
a just indignation would be felt against a writer who brought forward
wantonly the weaknesses of a great man, though the whole world knew 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, though I believed what I said against
the Roman Church, nevertheless I could not religiously speak it out,
unless I was really justified, not only in believing ill, but in
speaking ill. I did believe what I said on what I thought to be good
reasons; but had I also a just cause for saying out what I believed? I
thought I had, and it was this, viz. that to say out what I believed was
simply necessary in the controversy for self-defence. It was impossible
to let it alone: the Anglican position could not be satisfactorily
maintained, without assailing the Roman. In this, as in most cases of
conflict, one party was right or the other, not both; and the best
defence was to attack. Is not this almost a truism in the Roman
controversy? Is it not what every one says, who speaks on the subject at
all? Does any serious man abuse the Church of Rome, for the sake of
abusing her, or because that abuse 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 necessary for my Church's
religious position, but I recollected that all the great Anglican
divines had thought so before me. They had thought so, and they had
acted accordingly. And therefore I observe in the passage in question,
with much propriety, that I had not used strong language simply out of
my own head, but that in doing so I was following the track, or rather
reproducing the teaching, of those who had preceded me.
I was pleading guilty to using violent language, but I was pleading also
that there were extenuating 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 animo_; but I accused others of having, by their own
example, led me into believing it and publishing it.
I was in a humour, certainly, to bite off their ears. 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 quotations or their
reasonings; and from reliance on them, I had used words or made
statements, which by right I ought rigidly to have examined myself. I
had thought myself safe, while I had their warrant for what I said. I
had exercised more faith than criticism in the matter. This did not
imply any broad misstatements on my part, arising from reliance on their
authority, but it implied carelessness in matters of detail. And this of
course was a fault.
But there was a far deeper reason for my saying what I said in this
matter, on which I have not hitherto touched; and it was this:--The most
oppressive thought, in the whole process of my change of opinion, was
the clear anticipation, verified by the event, that it would issue in
the triumph of Liberalism. Against the Anti-dogmatic principle I had
thrown my whole mind; yet now I was doing more than any one else could
do, to promote it. I was one of those who had kept it at bay in Oxford
for 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 abandon 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