Apologia pro vita sua being a history of his religious opinions
in 1843 that perhaps I need not forfeit my existing relations towards
it. I could indeed submit to become the curate at will of another, but I
hoped an arrangement was possible, by which, while I had the curacy, I
might have been my own master in serving it. I had hoped an exception
might have been made in my favour, under the circumstances; but I did
not gain my request. Perhaps I was asking what was impracticable, and it
is well for me that it was so.
These had been my two acts of the year, and I said, "I cannot be wrong
in making them; let that follow which must follow in the thoughts of the
world about me, when they see what I do." And, as time went on, they
fully answered my purpose. What I felt it a simple duty to do, did
create a general suspicion about me, without such responsibility as
would be involved in my initiating any direct act for the sake of
creating it. Then, when friends wrote me on the subject, I either did
not deny or I confessed my state of mind, according to the character and
need of their letters. Sometimes in the case of intimate friends, whom I
should otherwise have been leaving in ignorance of what others knew on
every side of them, I invited the question.
And here comes in another point for explanation. While I was fighting in
Oxford for the Anglican Church, then indeed I was very glad to make
converts, and, though I never broke away from that rule of my mind, (as
I may call it,) of which I have already spoken, of finding disciples
rather than seeking them, yet, that I made advances to others in a
special way, I have no doubt; this came to an end, however, as soon as I
fell into misgivings as to the true ground to be taken in the
controversy. For then, when I gave up my place in the Movement, I ceased
from any such proceedings: and my utmost endeavour was to tranquillize
such persons, especially those who belonged to the new school, as were
unsettled in their religious views, and, as I judged, hasty in their
conclusions. This went on till 1843; but, at that date, as soon as I
turned my face Rome-ward, I gave up, as far as ever was possible, the
thought of in any respect and in any shape acting upon others. Then I
myself was simply my own concern. How could I in any sense direct
others, who had to be guided in so momentous a matter myself? How could
I be considered in a position, even to say a word to them one way or the
other? How could I presume to unsettle them, as I was unsettled, when I
had no means of bringing them out of such unsettlement? And, if they
were unsettled already, how could I point to them a place of refuge,
when I was not sure that I should choose it 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 they
were, 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 her own feelings upon it. In a singularly graphic, amusing
vision of pilgrims, who were making their way across a bleak common in
great discomfort, and who were ever warned against, yet 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 in her case and in that of 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.
Moreover, it is but the truth to say, that it had ever been an annoyance
to me to seem to be the head of a party; and that even from
fastidiousness of mind, I could not bear to find a thing done elsewhere,
simply or mainly because I did it myself, and that, from distrust of
myself, I shrank from the thought, whenever it was brought home to me,
that I was influencing others. But nothing of this could be known to the
world.
The following three letters are written to a friend, who had every claim
upon me to be frank with him, Archdeacon Manning:--it will be seen that
I disclose the real state of my mind in proportion as he presses me.
1. "October 14, 1843. I would tell you in a few words why I have
resigned St. Mary's, as you seem to wish, were it possible to do so. But
it is most difficult to bring out in brief, or even _in extenso_, any
just view of my feelings and reasons.
"The nearest approach I can give to a general account of them is to say,
that it has been caused by the general repudiation of the view,
contained in No. 90, on the part of the Church. I could not stand
against such an unanimous expression of opinion from the Bishops,
supported, as it has been, by the concurrence, or at least silence, of
all classes in the Church, lay and clerical. If there ever was a case,
in which an individual teacher has been put aside and virtually put away
by a community, mine is one. No decency has been observed in the attacks
upon me from 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 interpreting the Articles
makes them mean _any thing or nothing_. When I heard this delivered, I
did not believe my ears. I denied to others that it was said.... Out
came the charge, and the words could not be mistaken. This astonished me
the more, because I published that Letter to him, (how unwillingly you
know,) on the understanding that _I_ was to deliver his judgment on No.
90 _instead_ of him. A year elapses, and a second and heavier judgment
came forth. I did not bargain for this,--nor did he, but the tide was
too strong for him.
"I fear that I must confess, that, in proportion as I think the English
Church is showing herself intrinsically and radically alien from
Catholic principles, so do I feel the difficulties of defending her
claims to be a branch of the Catholic Church. It seems a dream to call a
communion 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 suppose; but I do not
like to make a secret of it to you."
2. "Oct. 25, 1843. You have engaged in a dangerous correspondence; I am
deeply sorry for the pain I shall give you.
"I must tell you then frankly, (but I combat arguments which to me,
alas, are shadows,) that it is not from disappointment, 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 communion 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[15], 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 future, nor do I realize it now.
"My first effort was to write that article on the Catholicity of the
English Church; for two years it quieted me. Since the summer of 1839 I
have written little or nothing on modern controversy.... You know how
unwillingly I wrote my letter to the Bishop in which I committed myself
again, as the safest course under circumstances. The article I speak of
quieted me till the end of 1841, over 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.
"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 deliberateness; it suggests to me the traces of a Providential Hand;