Apologia pro vita sua being a history of his religious opinions
sympathy in Rome, as she is; and further, as tending to promote the
spread of right views.
"But, within the last month, it has come upon me, that, if the scheme
goes on, it will be a practical carrying out of No. 90, from the
character of the usages and opinions of ante-reformation times.
"It is easy to say, 'Why _will_ you do _any_ thing? why won't you keep
quiet? what business had you to think of any such plan at all?' But I
cannot leave a number of poor fellows in the lurch. I am bound to do my
best for a great number of people both in Oxford and elsewhere. If _I_
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?"
* * * * *
Such was the object and the origin of the projected Series of the
English Saints; and, since 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 may read like a
digression. As soon then as the first of the Series got into print, the
whole project broke down. I had already anticipated that some portions
of the Series would be written in a style inconsistent with the
professions of a beneficed clergyman, and therefore I had given up my
Living; but men of great weight went further in their misgivings than I,
when they saw the Life of St. Stephen Harding, and decided that it was
of a character inconsistent even with its proceeding from an Anglican
publisher: and so the scheme was given up at once. After the two first
numbers, 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 the author of one 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 responsible for
them, in the way in which an Editor is responsible. Had I continued
Editor, I should have exercised a control over all. I laid down in the
Preface that doctrinal subjects were, if possible, to be excluded. But,
even then, I also set down that no writer was to be held answerable for
any of the Lives but his own. When I gave up the Editorship, I had
various engagements with friends for separate Lives remaining on my
hands. I should have liked to have broken from them all, but there were
some from which I could not break, and I let them take their course.
Some have come to nothing; others like yours have gone on. I have seen
such, either in MS. or Proof. As time goes on, I shall have less and
less to do with the Series. I think the engagement between you and me
should come to an end. I have any how abundant responsibility on me, and
too much. I shall write to T. 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, would "be published by their respective authors on their own
responsibility." This notice was repeated in February, in the
advertisement to the second number entitled "The Family of St. Richard,"
though to this number, for some reason which I cannot now recollect, 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 himself is
responsible for the way in which these materials have been used." I have
in MS. another advertisement to the same effect, but I cannot tell
whether it ever appeared in print.
I will add, since the authors have been considered "hot-headed fanatic
young men," whom I was in charge of, and whom I suffered to do
intemperate things, that, while the writer of St. Augustine was in 1844
past forty, the author of the proposed Life of St. Boniface, Mr. Bowden,
was forty-six; Mr. Johnson, who was to write St. Aldhelm, forty-three;
and most of the others were on one side or other of thirty. Three, I
think, were under twenty-five. Moreover, of these writers some became
Catholics, some remained Anglicans, and others have professed what are
called free or liberal opinions[14].
[14] Vide Note D, _Lives of the English Saints_.
* * * * *
The immediate cause of the resignation of my Living is stated in the
following letter, which I wrote to my Bishop:--
"August 29, 1843. It is with much concern that I inform your Lordship,
that Mr. A. B., who has been for 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 information state one
or two circumstances connected with this unfortunate event.... I
received him on condition of his promising me, which he distinctly did,
that he would remain quietly in our Church for three years. A year has
passed since that time, and, though I saw nothing in him which promised
that he would eventually be contented with his present position, yet for
the time his mind became as settled as one could wish, and he frequently
expressed his satisfaction at being under the promise which I had
exacted of him."
I felt it impossible to remain any longer in the service of the Anglican
Church, when such a breach of trust, however little I had to do with it,
would be laid at my door. I wrote in a few days to a friend:
"September 7, 1843. I this day ask the Bishop leave to resign St.
Mary's. Men whom you little think, or at least whom I little thought,
are in almost a hopeless way. Really we may expect any thing. I am going
to publish a Volume of Sermons, including those Four against moving."
* * * * *
I resigned my living on September the 18th. I had not the means of doing
it legally at Oxford. The late Mr. Goldsmid was kind enough to aid me in
resigning it in London. I found no fault with the Liberals; they had
beaten me in a fair field. As to the act of the Bishops, I thought, to
borrow a Scriptural image from Walter Scott, that they had "seethed the
kid in his mother's milk."
I said to a friend:--
"Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni."
* * * * *
And now I may be almost said to have brought to an end, as far as is
necessary for a sketch such as this is, the history both of my changes
of religious opinion and of the public acts which they involved.
I had one final advance of mind to accomplish, and one final step to
take. That further advance of mind was to be able honestly to say that I
was _certain_ of the conclusions at which I had already arrived. That
further step, imperative when such certitude was attained, was my
_submission_ to the Catholic Church.
This submission did not take place till two full years after the
resignation of my living in September 1843; nor could I have made it at
an earlier day, without doubt and apprehension, that is, with any true
conviction of mind or certitude.
In the interval, of which it remains to speak, viz. between the autumns
of 1843 and 1845, I was in lay communion with the Church of England,
attending its services as usual, and abstaining altogether from
intercourse 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 I have to say about myself between these two autumns I shall almost
confine to this one point,--the difficulty I was in, as to the best mode
of revealing the state of my mind to my friends and others, and how I
managed to reveal it.
* * * * *
Up to January, 1842, I had not disclosed my state of unsettlement to
more than three persons, as has been mentioned above, and as is repeated
in the course of the letters which I am now about to give to the reader.
To two of them, intimate and familiar companions, in the Autumn of 1839:
to the third, an old friend too, whom I have also named above, I
suppose, when I was in great distress of mind upon the affair of the
Jerusalem Bishopric. In May, 1843, I made it known, as has been seen, to
the friend, by whose advice I wished, as far as possible, to be guided.
To mention it on set purpose to any one, unless indeed I was asking
advice, I should have felt to be a crime. If there is any thing that was
abhorrent to me, it was the scattering doubts, and unsettling
consciences without necessity. A strong presentiment that my existing
opinions would ultimately give way, and that the grounds of them were
unsound, was not a sufficient warrant for disclosing the state of my
mind. I had no guarantee yet, that that presentiment would be realized.
Supposing I were crossing ice, which came right in my way, which I had
good reasons for considering sound, and which I saw numbers before me
crossing in safety, and supposing a stranger from the bank, in a voice
of authority, and in an earnest tone, warned me that it was dangerous,
and then was silent, I think I should be startled, and should look about
me anxiously, but I think too that I should go on, till I had better
grounds for doubt; and such was my state, I believe, till the end of
1842. Then again, when my dissatisfaction became greater, it was hard at
first to determine the point of time, when it was too strong to suppress
with propriety. Certitude of course is a point, but doubt is a progress;
I was not near certitude yet. Certitude is a reflex action; it is to
know that one knows. Of that I believe I was not possessed, till close
upon my reception into the Catholic Church. Again, a practical,
effective doubt is a point too, but who can easily ascertain it for
himself? Who can determine when it is, that the scales in the balance of
opinion begin to turn, and what was a greater probability in behalf of a
belief becomes a positive doubt against it?
In considering this question in its bearing upon my conduct in 1843, my
own simple answer to my great difficulty had been, _Do_ what your
present state of opinion requires in the light of duty, and let that
_doing_ tell: speak by _acts_. This I had done; my first _act_ of the
year had been in February. After three months' deliberation I had
published my retractation of the violent charges which I had made
against Rome: I could not be wrong in doing so much as this; but I did
no more at the time: I did not retract my Anglican teaching. My second
_act_ had been in September in the same year; after much sorrowful
lingering and hesitation, I had resigned my Living. I tried indeed,
before I did so, to keep Littlemore for myself, even though it was still
to remain an integral part of St. Mary's. I had given to it a Church and
a sort of Parsonage; I had made it a Parish, and I loved it; I thought