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WHY I LEFT
THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND
*
By James Britten, K.S.G.,
Hon. Sec. Catholic Truth Society.
I wish to begin this lecture with an apology. No one
can be better aware than I am that, except to one person—
myself—the reasons which impel me to any course of
action are of the very slightest importance—-or rather, of
no importance at all. This lecture is like others of our
course, the sequence of one delivered lately in this
neighbourhood in connection with the Protestant Alliance :
the title is an adaptation of that adopted on the former
occasion; and the fact that up and down the country,
various people, including more or less escaped nuns and
others, are telling audiences—sometimes large ones—why
they “left the Church of Rome,” seems to show that the
experiences of what used to be called ’verts are still
attractive.
The reasons which people allege for leaving one
Communion and joining another are very various, and
sometimes very curious.
Mr. Fitzgerald, for example,
said he became a Protestant because of the ignorance of
the Catholic clergy and the worship of images. Well, as
to ignorance, those who heard Mr. Fitzgerald will agree
with me in thinking that he is hardly a competent judge;
and as to the worship of images—supposing for onr
6A Lecture delivered in March, 1893, in St. Georges School,
Southwark, in answer to one given by a Mr. Fitzgerald, of the
Protestant Alliance. The date of the lecture must be borne in mind
by readers of the pamphlet.
�2
Why I left the Church of England
moment, what every Catholic will resent as an impossibility
that Catholics fell into so gross a sin—I would remark
that the Jewish people more than once did the same,
without thereby ceasing to be the people of God. Another
Protestant lecturer was so shocked by the definition of
Papal Infallibility in 1870, that she—at once left the
Church ? O dear no ! remained in it for eighteen years,
and then withdrew. A Nonconformist friend of mine told
me the other day that his sister had joined the Church
of England. “You see,” he said, “ she is a wise woman.
She told me she found that if her daughters were to mix
in the best society, they must be Church people, so she
and her husband joined the establishment.” Another
friend who had been a Baptist all his life, suddenly joined
the established Church. “The fact of it was,” he said to
me, “ they were always quarrelling at the chapel, so one
day I said I’d had enough of it, and I took the girls off to
church—and now I’ve had them confirmed there, and we
like it.” I do not think these were good reasons for
changing one’s belief; my object, however, is not to
criticize other people’s reasons, but to give you my own,
and this I will proceed to do without further delay.
One thing only I will add,—an assurance that I am
most anxious to avoid anything which can in any way hurt
the feelings of those who differ from me. I have no
reason, indeed, for speaking harshly or disrespectfully of
the Church of England. To one section of it I owe my
training in many Catholic doctrines, while to another
section I am indebted for having opened my eyes to the fact
that those doctrines were not the doctrines of the Church
of England. You will hear from me no attacks upon the
character of the Anglican clergy, not only because I
believe them to be an excellent body of men, but because,
even if they were not so, their personal shortcomings
would no more invalidate their teaching than the char
acter of Balaam invalidated the truth of his prophetic
utterances. It would, I think, be well if some Protestant
lecturers would bear this in mind, just as they might
remember that a Church which could claim the allegiance
of a Newman and a Manning is hardly likely to be as
�Why I left the Church of England
3
corrupt or as ignorant as they would have their hearers
suppose.
From my earliest days, I was brought up at St. Barnabas’s,
Pimlico—one of the churches most intimately associated
with the growth of High Church views in London. It was
opened in 1850, and among those who preached on the
occasion was the late Cardinal (then Archdeacon) Manning.
In 1851 the Protestant feeling of a certain section of the
community was roused. The riots which from time to time
have disgraced the Protestant party,—which, nevertheless
claims toleration as one of its virtues—and which culmin
ated some years later in the scandalous scenes at St.
George’s in the East, broke out here. The timid Bishop of
London closed the church and caused the resignation of
Mr. Bennett, who received the living of Frome Seiwood,
Somerset, where he died some few years since, deeply
regretted by his flock, whom he had familiarized with almost
every Catholic doctrine, and practice. It is worth noting,
as showing the marvellous stride which Ritualism hasmade
in the last forty years, that at St. Barnabas’s the only then
unusual ornaments were a plain cross and two candles on
the Holy Table ; an oak screen before the chancel, sur
mounted by a cross ; a surpliced choir; and a service
modelled on that of the English cathedrals.
*
No vestments
save the ordinary surplice and black stole; no incense ; no
banners ; no prayers save those in the Book of Common
Prayer. The ornaments of the church which, forty years
ago, had to be closed to protect it from the mob, would
now hardly excite the notice of the Church Association.
My own memory dates, I suppose, from somewhere
about 1856. The two great waves of conversion to the
Catholic Church, which followed the secession of Newman
in 1845. and Manning in 1851 had passed: and in spite
of occasional Protestant outbursts, the effects of Protestant
lectures, and the adverse judgements of Privy Councils and
other bodies, the High Church movement was steadily and
everywhere gaining ground.
* There was indeed, a stone altar, which was subsequently removed,
but this being covered was not conspicuously different from an ordin
ary table.
�4
Why I left the Church of England
I will as briefly as possible tell you what I was taught to
believe. First, I was taught that our Lord founded a
Church, which He had built upon the foundation of His
Apostles, He Himself being the chief corner-stone : that
He had conferred on His Apostles certain powers by which
they were enabled to carry on His work ; that the Apostles
had the power of forgiving sin, of consecrating the Eucharist,
and of transmitting to their successors the supernatural
power which they had themselves received : that the
Apostles and those whom they consecrated were the rulers
of the Christian Church : that this Church had power to
define what was to be believed, and that it could not err
because of the promise of Christ that.He would be with it’
even to the end of the world : that the Church, moreover’
was divinely guided in a very special manner by the Holy
Ghost, and that its definitions to the end of time were
inspired by the Holy Ghost, of whom Christ had said
When He, the Spirit of Truth is come, He shall lead you
into all truth : ” that the Church and not the Bible was
God’s appointed teacher; that the traditions of the Church
were of equal authority with the Bible ; and that the Church
was the only authorized interpreter of the latter.
I was further taught that the grace of God was conveyed
to the soul principally by means of the Sacraments, and
that by Baptism the stain of original sin was removed.
With regard to the Real Presence of our Lord in the Holy
Communion, I can best explain the teaching that I received
by saying that I was never conscious of any change of
belief when I became a Catholic. The books which I
used as an Anglican I could use equally well as a Catholic ;
they were compiled almost exclusively from Catholic sources^
and before I had ever entered a Catholic church or read a
Catholic book, I was familiar with the wonderful Eucharistic
hymns of St. Thomas, and the other doctrinal hymns,
modern as well as ancient, of the Catholic Church,
I do not think that in those days we were taught, "as
Anglicans are taught now, that there were seven Sacraments,
but the practical result was the same. I shall never forget
the care with which I was prepared for Confirmation ; it
never occurred to me to doubt that the clergy had the
�Why I left the Church of England
5
power of forgiving sins ; indeed I think I exaggerated this
power, for I thought that the declaration of absolution at
matins and evensong was sacramental. Confession was not
urged as it is now, and confessionals were not, as they are
now, openly placed in the Churches ; but in sermons and in
private instruction the “ benefit of absolution ” as the
Prayer-book calls it, was referred to, and we know that
confessions were heard in the sacristy. Ihave already said
that we believed in the apostolical succession—in other
words, in the Sacrament of Orders; and it was difficult to
ignore the plain command of St. James as to Extreme
Unction—indeed, I have never been able to understand,
save on the basis of Luther’s well-known saying that the
Epistle of James was a “ matter of straw,” how Protestants
evade comoliance with this text.
As to externals, although in those days these had
developed but little, the principle of them was laid down.
We were told—and I do not see how any one can deny it—
that there were two rituals authorized by Almighty God—
the ancient Jewish rite, and the mystical vision of the
Apocalypse. In both were found the symbolic use of
vestments and incense, music and ceremonial : nowhere
did we find any indication that these externals were to be
done away, and we knew that the Christian Church adopted
them from as early a period as was possible. The English
Church, indeed, was shorn of her splendour, but the time
would come when she would arise and put on her beautiful
garments; and if there should beany ftigh Churchman
among my hearers, he will say, and say truly, that that time
has come, and that, so far as externals go, the Established
Church can now vie successfully with the Roman ritual in
splendour and dignity.
And as with other externals, so with music. Among the
many things for which I am grateful to those who brought
me up, few are more present to me than the love which
they gave me for the old plain chant of the Church—the
chant which we called Gregorian, thereby giving honour to
the great Pope who sent St. Augustine to bring this nation
back to God. And with the old chants we had the old
words—not only the Psalms of David, but the words of the
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Why I left the Church of England
Fathers of the Church in her hymns—of St. Ambrose, and
St. Gregory, and St. Bede, and St. Thomas Aquinas : for
in those early days not a hymn was sung in that church
which had not upon it the hall-mark of antiquity.
To the same hand which translated most of these hymns
into sonorous and manly English, I owed my knowledge of
the lives of the Saints, as portrayed in the volumes setting
forth the ‘ Triumphs of the Cross ’ and the ‘ Followers of
the Lord.’ To Dr. Neale—that great liturgical scholar—
I shall always feel a debt of gratitude for having made me
understand, however imperfectly, what is meant by the
Communion of Saints, and for having brought to my
knowledge that wonderful storehouse of saintly history
which is among the many treasures of the Catholic Church.
It is true that we did not then, as Anglicans do now, invoke
them, or address our litanies to the Mother of God; yet
the veneration of the Blessed Virgin and the saints was
inculcated upon us in many ways.
So with the observance, not only of festivals, but of fasts
—the duty of keeping both was impressed on us. The
brightness of the sanctuary, with its many lights and flowers,
and the stately procession chanting psalms, were associ
ated with all the great Christian festivals, making “the
beauty of holiness," something more than a name; while
the times of self-denial and the penitential season of Lent
were brought home to us by the silent organ and the violethung sanctuary. The duty of supporting our pastors, the
equality of all meh before God,
“ Who has but one same death for a hind,
And one same death for a king,’’
were also taught us, as fully as the Church herself teaches
them.
You may wonder what were the impressions I received
with regard to the Catholic Church on one side, and
Nonconformists on the other. With regard to the Church
I was taught that there were three branches—the Anglican,
the Greek, and the Roman—and that of these three the
Catholic Church was made up : that in this country the
Church of England represented the Catholic Church, and
�Why I left the Church oj England
7
that the Roman branch had no business here—though I am
thankful to say that I cannot remember ever having
heard at St. Barnabas’s a single sermon against Roman
Catholics, or an uncharitable word regarding them. I
therefore had none of those prejudices which seem insepar
able from certain forms of Protestantism—prejudices
which prevent even a fair hearing of the Catholic position.
I remember one sermon on the honour due to the Blessed
Virgin, in which the Roman devotion to her was spoken of
as excessive; and another on St. Peter, in which his prim
acy, as distinct from his supremacy, was acknowledged :
but until I was seventeen I never heard the Protestant
side of the Church of England advanced from any pulpit,
although then, as now, the itinerant Protestant lecturer
presented to those who were credulous enough to accept his
statements a caricature of the Catholic Church. In those
days a Mr. Edward Harper, who had some prominent
position in the Orange Society, occupied the place which
is now held by Mr. Collette, and, was filled, until lately,
by Mr. Mark Knowles.
I ought to add that I had never attended a Roman
Catholic service, and had only once entered a Catholic
church. This was the old Oratory, into which I went one
winter afternoon on my way to the South Kensington
Museum. One of the few things I knew about what I
considered the Roman branch of the Church was that the
Blessed Sacrament was reserved on its altars, and I remem
ber kneeling in the dark, flat-roofed Oratory, with its lamp
burning before the altar, in adoration of the Presence which
I felt to be there. I was quite sure—for I had never
heard it called in question—that the views I have given
were those of the Church of England : that the Reformation,
disastrous as it was, in many ways, had not broken the
apostolical succession: and that the Western and Eastern
Churches, equally with the Anglican, had Orders and
Sacraments, and were of the unity of the Faith.
With Nonconformists it was different. They had no
authorized ministry, and therefore no Sacraments. They
had thrown off the authority of the Church, and substituted
their own interpretation of the Bible. They were the
�8
Why I left the Church of England
followers of Korak, Dathan, and Abiram; against them
was directed the warning, “mark those who cause divisions
among you, and avoid them.” I am afraid that we looked
upon them as socially inferior to ourselves—certainly as
people to be avoided—and as “Protestants,” a term which
even then Anglicans held in contempt. With Catholics we
had much in common—indeed, we were Catholics ourselves :
but Dissent, with its numberless divisions, absence of
dignity, unauthorized teachers, and ugly conventicles, was
far from us, and with it we could hold no communion.
This was my position until, at about the age of eighteen,
I went into the country to study medicine. I shall never
forget my first Sunday there. There was a magnificent old
parish church, with deep chancel and broad aisles, choked
up with pews of obstructive design. A small table with a
shabby red cloth stood away under the picture which con
cealed the east window; a choir of a handful of men and
boys, unsurpliced and untidy, sang the slender allowance
of music; a parish clerk responded for the congregation ;
— these were the objects that met my eyes and ears that
first Sunday of my exile. But that was not all. We had a
sermon, delivered by a preacher in a black gown—to me a
new and hideous vestment,—on behalf of the Sunday
schools. That sermon I shall always remember. In the
course of it, the preacher enumerated the things they did
not teach the children in the schools : they did not teach
them they were born again in baptism, they did not teach
that the clergy were descended from the Apostles, they did
not teach that they had power to forgive sins, they did not
teach a real presence in the Communion—“ Real presence! ”
I heard a parson say in that church ; “Ibelieve in a real
absence ! ”—they did not teach the doctrine of good works.
I began to wonder what was left to be taught, until the
preacher explained that predestination and salvation by
faith alone were inculcated upon the children. On the
next Sunday the Holy Communion was administered—how,
I can hardly describe, except by saying that it was manifest
that no belief in its supernatural aspect was maintained. I
can see now the parish clerk, at the end of the service,
walking up the chancel, and the minister coming towards
�Why I left the Church of England
9
him with the paten in one hand and the chalice in the
other, waiting while he, standing, ate and drank the con
tents of each.
My first feeling was that these clergy had no right or
place in the Church of England. There was a moderately
“high” church five miles off, and whenever I could, I
found my way there. But it became unpleasantly plain
that the Church of England, which I had regarded as an
infallible guide, spoke with two voices :—I began to realize
that even on vital matters two diametrically-opposed
opinions, not only could be, but were, held and preached.
I knew my Book of Common Prayer and its rubrics as
well as I knew my Bible; but to one part of it my atten
tion had never been called, as it now was Sunday by
Sunday. I had known without realizing all that it implied,
that the Queen was, in some way, the Head of the Church
—or rather, of two churches, one in England and one in
Scotland: but I now found that she declared herself to
be “Supreme Governor of the Church of England, and,
by God’s ordinance, Defender of the Faith : ” that General
Councils, which I had been taught to believe infallible,
could not be held “ without the commandment and will of
princes,” and “ may err, and sometimes have erred, in things
pertaining unto God ” ; that Confirmation, Penance, and
the like, were not Sacraments of the Gospel; that the
benefits of Baptism were confined to “ they that receive
it rightly; ” that the reception of the Body of Christ
in the Holy Communion is dependent on the faith of
the recipient; and that “the Sacrifices of masses . . .
were blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits.” This
last was indeed a trial to me. It is true that twenty-five
years ago the word “ Mass ” was not in common use among
Anglicans as it is now, and I do not think an Anglican
clergyman would have been found to say in public, as one
said the other day, that “he would not stay a minute in
a church where the Mass was not, for if they had not got
the Mass, they had no worship whatever.” But we knew
that the term was retained in the first reformed Prayer-book
and that it was the name employed throughout the Western
Church for the Eucharistic service.
*
�io
Why I left the Church of England
Here then was my difficulty: and the more I faced it,
the more I found that the ground which I had thought so
sure was slipping away from under me. Not, thank God,
that I ever doubted any of the truths which had been
implanted in me: but I-began to see, more and more
clearly, that the authority, on which I had thought them
to rest was altogether lacking. I found that what I had
received as the teaching of a Church was only the teaching
of a certain section of its clergy, and that other clergy,
with exactly as much authority, taught directly opposite
opinions: they were not priests, they said: they claimed
to offer no sacrifice ; no office of forgiving sins was theirs;
they possessed no supernatural powers.
This was bad enough, but there was worse behind. The
other branches of the Church—what did they say on these
momentous points ? Alas 1 there was no room for doubt
here. Neither the Eastern nor Western “branches,” each
of them far larger than the Anglican, would admit for a
moment the claims of the Anglican clergy to be priests :
and a large section of themselves equally denied it. The
bishops in some cases expressly told the candidates for
ordination that they were not made priests j and if their
were no priests, how could the sacraments depending on
them be celebrated ? It was no special ill-will to Anglicans
that Rome showed by refusing to recognize their orders;
for she never denied those of the Greeks, although these
were equally separated from her unity. The Branch
Theory broke down—it would not work.
Then I read other books—many of them by Newman,
for whom Anglicans in those days cherished a warm
affection and respect in spite of his secession. And more
and more the conviction was forced upon me that I had
received the beliefs in which I had been brought up on
the authority of certain individual members of a body
which not only tolerated, but taught with equal authority,
the exact opposite of these beliefs—that the Anglican
Communion,. even as represented by those who claimed
for it Catholicity, was a mere Protestant sect, differing
only from more recent denominations in that it retained
certain shreds and patches of the old faith. It was, in
�Why I left the Church of England
11
short, a compromise—a via media between Rome and
Dissent—and it was as unsatisfactory as compromises
usually are.
Meanwhile there came upon me more and more plainly
the claims of a Church which taught with authority
all that I believed; which claimed to be the one body
having a right to teach; and which, without equivocation
or hesitation, pointed out to its members one only means
of salvation. By one of those occurrences which we
call accidents I became acquainted with a Catholic priest
—one of the first of those Anglicans who gave up friends
and position and everything that could make life happy at
the call of their Master. From him I learned what was
hitherto lacking to my knowledge of the Church ; I realized,
as I had never done before, that the first mark of God’s
Church was unity—a mark which no one can pretend to
find in the Church of England : and after a period of anxiety
such as none can know who have not experienced it, I was
received into that unity.
Of my experience since, you will not expect me to speak.
If I must say anything, I will venture to employ the words
of Cardinal Newman, which express better than any words
of mine could, my feelings now :—“ From the day I became
a Catholic to this day, I have never had a moment’s mis
giving that the Communion of Rome is the Church which
the Apostles set up at Pentecost, which alone has ‘the
adoption of sons, and the glory, and the covenants, and the
revealed law, and the service of God, and the promises,’
and in which the Anglican Communion, whatever its merits
and demerits, whatever the great excellence of individuals
in it, has, as such, no part. Nor have I ever for a moment
hesitated in my conviction that it was my duty to join the
Catholic Church, which in my own conscience I felt to be
divine.”
When I told the friends with whom I was living that I
had become a Catholic, the result somewhat astonished me :
and those good Protestants who assume—as many do—
that persecution and Popery are inseparably connected,
while Protestantism and liberty of conscience are convert
ible terms, may like to know what happened. My desk
�12
Why. I left the Church of England
was broken open; my private letters were stolen; letters
sent me through the post were intercepted, opened, and
sometimes detained; I was prevented from going to a
Catholic church and from seeing a Catholic priest; a picture
of the Crucifixion which I had had in my room for years,
was profaned in a way which I do not care to characterize,
These things are small and trifling compared with what
many have suffered, but what light do not even they throw
upon that right of private judgement which Protestants pro
fess to hold so dear !
One thing which seemed to me at my conversion remark
able still remains to me one of the most wonderful features,
of Protestantism—the universal assumption that Catholics
do not know what they themselves believe, and that Pro
testants understand it far better. The average Protestant,
for instance, thinks and often asserts that we believe that
the Pope cannot sin, that we worship images, that we are
disloyal to the Crown, that we put our Lady in the place of
God, that we sell absolution for money and have a recog
nized tariff for the remission of sins, that we may not read
the Bible, that we would burn every Protestant if we could,
that we lie habitually, that our convents are haunts of vice,
that our priests are knaves or conscious imposters, and that
our laity are dupes or fools—I could, if time would allow,
easily bring extracts from Protestant writers in support of
each of these positions. Not only so, but—by isolated texts
of scripture ; by scraps of the Fathers, torn from their con
text, and often mistranslated; by misrepresentations of
history * by fragments of prayers and hymns, interpreted
;
as no Catholic would interpret them ; by erroneous explan
ations of what they see in our churches ; by baseless infer
ences arising from ignorance of the very language we use
— they formulate and are not ashamed to propagate charges
against us which in many cases we cannot condemn seriously,
because it is impossible to help laughing at them. Our
contradictions are not listened to ; our corrections are un
heeded ; our statements are disbelieved. “ Give us,” we say,
* See Mr. Collette as a historian, by the Rev. S. F. Smith, S.T.—
Catholic Truth Society, id.
�Why I left the Church of England
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“at least fair play ; hear what we have to say for ourselves ;
do not condemn us unheard ; do not assume that we are
all fools or rogues.” But we are not listened to : we are not
allowed to know what we ourselves believe ! “ Oh for the
rarity of Christian charity,” or at any rate of Protestant
charity.
We are sometimes accused of omitting one of the
commandments : but it is the bigoted Protestant who does
this—he entirely forgets that there is in the Decalogue one
which says sternly—“ Thou shalt not bear false witness
against thy neighbour.” How many Protestants who speak
against the Church have ever expended a penny on the Cate
chism which contains a full clear statement of Christian
Doctrine, which is approved by authority, and on which
the religious education of our children is based? Yet they
would learn more from it of what we really believe than
from every tract in Mr. Kensit’s shop, or from all the books
which Mr. Collette ever wrote.
It often puzzles me how it is that Protestants do not
realize the utter futility of the attempts they have been
making for the last fifty years to arrest the tide of Catholic
tendency which is flooding the nation. Go into St. Paul’s
—say on the festival of the Gregorian Association—see the
long procession of surpliced choirs with their banners,
many of them bearing Catholic devices; listen to the old
antiphons, unauthorized indeed by the Book of Common
Prayer, set to the chants to which they are sung in the
Church throughout the world wherever the Divine Office is
chanted; see the preacher mount the pulpit, prefacing his
sermon with the invocation of the Blessed Trinity and the
sign of the Cross; hear him refer as one referred two years
since, to “our Lady”—a title only less dear to Catholics
than that of our Lord: and as you sit and listen, look to
the end of the church, with its dignified and decorated
altar and the gorgeous reredos, not unworthy of a Catholic
church, with the great crucifix in its centre, and over all
the statue of Mary with her Divine Child in her arms : and
as you leave the church, do not forget to notice the side
chapel and its handsome altar, with cross, and flowers and
lights, where the daily communion service is held. Then
remember that less than forty years since, not one of these
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Why I left the Church of England
ornaments or signs could be seen in the desolate, dirty
edifice, with its shabby communion-table well-nigh out of
sight under the east window. Go to Wesminster, and see,
prominent at the restored north door, another statue of
Mary with her Child. Go up and down the country, both
to your large towns and to your remote villages, and you
will find the same advance—only more developed. Last
year, I strolled into the magnificent old abbey church of a
little Oxfordshire village : the air was dim and heavy with
incense; there were three altars, each duly furnished with
lights, cross, and sacring-bell; on the notice board was a
copy of the parish magazine, in which I read an exhortation
on the duty of hearing Mass on Sunday which might have
been taken—and perhaps was taken—from a Catholic
manual of instruction : and a list of the services to be held
on the feast of Corpus Christi 1 The crucifix is now
common in Protestant churches ; pictures of our Lady are
not rare ; statues of her are to be found—why do not our
Protestant friends look to this, instead of raising their voices
against Catholicism ? They shriek and rant after their
manner ; yet one stronghold after another is captured, and
they stand by and are powerless to hinder it.
Look at the wealth of literature of every kind, which
pours forth from the ritualistic press : the manuals and
treatises, the dogmatic works, the numberless little books,
each more advanced than the last with which the country
is literally flooded, and of which the St. Agatha’s Sunday
Scholars’ Book, which lately received a notice from the
Protestant Alliance, is but one out of a thousand. Look
even at the levelling up which has marked the publications
of so eminently respectable a body as the Society for the
Promotion of Christian Knowledge. How is it that, with
all your power and influence and money, you cannot arrest
this advance in the direction of Rome?
And what about Rome itself? There are those who
think that England is rapidly becoming Catholic. I am
not of that number, but I cannot fail to see that the fields
are white unto harvest, and I see too that the labourers are
being sent forth into the harvest.
More than fifty years ago, Macaulay pointed out, in that
�Why I left the Church of England
15
wonderful essay on Ranke’s History of the Popes which I
would commend to all Protestants who do not know it, as
a “ most remarkable fact, that no Christian nation which
did not adopt the principles of the Reformation before the
end of the 16th century, should ever have adopted them.
Catholic communities have since that time become infidel
and become Catholic again ; but none has become Protes
tant.” How is it at home ? Protestants have poured
money into Ireland; they did not scruple to avail them
selves, to their everlasting disgrace, of the sufferings of the
great famine in order to buy over with their funds the souls
and bodies of the destitute Irish. “ God has opened a
great door to us in Ireland”—such was the blasphemous
announcement which prefaced one of the appeals for those
liberal funds without which no Protestant missionary enter
prise, at home or abroad, can be carried on. What is the
result? Is Ireland less Catholic than she was? Come
closer—come to England—here are facts which Protestants
will not dispute, for they will come to you with the author
ity of the Protestant Alliance, from one of whose publi
cations I quote them. Since 1851, the number of priests in
England has more than trebled itself; of churches, chapels
and stations we have now 1387, where in 1851 we had
586 ; of religious houses of men we have 220, against 17,
forty years ago ; of convents—those favourite objects of
attack to a certain class of Protestants, those places whose
inmates, to judge from the rubbish one hears and reads,
have only one aim, to escape—we have just nine times as
many as we had in 1851 ; the numbers are 450 and 53.
Come nearer home: in 1851 the diocese of Southwark
included what is now the diocese of Portsmouth: there
were then in it 67 priests ; there are now, in the two dioceses
428—an increase of 363 ; there were 57 churches and
stations, where there are now exactly 200 ; there are 80
convents instead of 9 ; there are 38 monasteries instead of
one 1 Come to these very doors ; when I came to live in
Southwark, eight years ago, there was for this vast district
one church—the Cathedral—with four priests ; now the
staff at the Cathedral is more than doubled, and Walworth,
the Borough and Vauxhall are separated into distinct
�16
Why I left the Church of England
missions, each with two priests. Add to this such churches
as St. Alphege and St. Agnes, where the doctrines taught,
and the ornaments used, are almost identical with our
own ; All Saints (Lambeth), St. John the Divine, Christ
Church (Clapham), and many more, where sacramental
teaching of an advanced type is given : and then calculate
for yourselves what effect in this neighbourhood the puny
and impotent attacks of the Protestant Alliance is likely to
produce : a Society whose patron should surely be the good
old lady who thought to sweep back the sea with a mop :
whose members spend their money on red rags, and waste
their time by shaking them in the face of a bull—I mean
John Bull—who doesn’t care twopence about them. My
Protestant friends, there was one of old who gave sound
advice to those who took counsel to slay Peter and they
that were with him : “ Refrain from these men, and let
them alone ; for if this counsel or this work be of men, it
will come to nought; but if it be of God, ye cannot over
throw it; lest haply ye be found to fight against God.”
Remember that “ in spite of dungeon, fire and sword,”—
in spite of the penal laws, which the Lord Chief Justice has
lately styled “a code as hateful as anything ever seen since
the foundation of the world ”—the faith is among you still ;
the gates of hell have not prevailed against it.
And—speaking quite soberly and dispassionately—I do
not hesitate to say that some of the weapons which are
employed against the Church seem to me to come from
within those gates. I respect the conscientious, God-fear
ing Protestants who, under the influence of strong delusion,
feel it their duty to oppose the Church. I remember
the case of Saul, afterwards called Paul, and how he
persecuted the Church of God; and I do not despair of
their conversion. I have only sympathy for those who are
misled by prejudice and bigoted teachers. Every convert
can say, with the man in the Gospel, “ whereas I was blind
now I see; ” and I am not sure that those who have had
the happiness of being born Catholics always make sufficient
allowance for the imperfect vision of those without the
fold. But what shall be said in defence of those who are
not ashamed to write and to publish calumnies, as foul as
�Why I left the Church of England
17
they are false, against priests and nuns, and the Sacraments
of the Church—those “ lewd fellows of the baser sort ” who
under the guise of religion, do not scruple to pander to the
lowest and worst of passions by the circulation of fifthy
fictions of which ‘ Maria Monk ’ is by no means the worst-—
of works which, so far as I know, are to be found in only
two places in London— in the shop of a Protestant pub
lisher, and in a street which has for years obtained an evil
notoriety for the sale of indecent literature. I am not
going to name these books : but if any one is anxious, for
any good purpose, to know to what I refer, I am ready to
tell him. Some years since, one of the worst of these was
seized and condemned as an indecent publication; since
then, the Protestant purveyors * of pornographic publi
cations have been more careful to keep within the letter of
the law, although it is not long since the editor of Truth—
by no means a scrupulous purist—denounced some of their
wares as outraging decency. These and the highly spiced
lectures “ to men,” or “ to women only ”—appeal to a certain
class of persons; and I call upon all decent men and
women, be they Jew, Turk, heretic, or infidel—and above
all, upon Mr. Collette, who was at one time intimately con
nected with a body called the Society for the Suppression
of Vice—to dissociate themselves from any part in the
wholesale propagation of indecency which is carried on in
the name of religion. The cause must indeed be a bad and
a hopeless one which can stoop to avail itself of weapons
such as these.
But I will not refer further to a hateful kind of warfare
with which very few will sympathize. I will rather briefly
apply to two among the many schools of thought in the
Establishment the remarks which I have made.
To the Protestants or Low Churchmen I would say : Can
you conscientiously remain in a Church, the members of
which claim to hold all Roman doctrine, save that of sub
mission to the Pope—which permits the teaching not only
of Baptismal Regeneration and the Real Presence, but of
Confession, the Monastic or Religious Life, the use of
* See Truth. Dec. 28, 1893, for further remarks on one of these
persons.
�18
Why I left the Church of England
Images, Fasting, Prayers and Masses for the Dead, the
Invocation of Saints, Prayers to the Blessed Virgin, the
power of dispensing from religious obligations; which
not only allows these things to be taught, but permits them
to be emphasized by every external adjunct ? To the High
Churchman my question is exactly the converse of this.
You believe all or most of the points which I have just
enumerated : can you remain in communion with those who
deny them ? Read, if you have not read it, a pamphlet on
the Reformation by one of your own Bishops—Dr. Ryle—
one of those whom you regard as successors of the Apostles,
with the power of ordaining priests. He tells you how the
reformers “stripped the office of the clergy of any sacerdotal
character ”—how they removed the words ‘ sacrifice ’ and
‘ altar ’ from the Prayer-book, and retained the word priest
only in the sense of presbyter or elder—how they denied
the power of the keys—how they cast out the sacrifice of
the Mass as a blasphemous fable, took down the altars,
prohibited images and crucifixes, and “ declared that the
sovereign had supreme authority and chief power in this
realm in all causes ecclesiastical.” What is gained by the
wearing of cope and mitre and the teaching of Sacramental
doctrine by one bishop, if another can at the same time,
with equal authority, denounce all these things ? and how can
a Church, with any claim to be considered as teaching with
authority, tolerate with equanimity both of these extremes ?
We Catholics are so accustomed to the unity of the
Church that we do not perhaps always think what a wonder
ful thing it is : and Protestants, I find, often do not realize
it. They sometimes point to our religious orders as if they
were equivalent to their own manifold divisions ! It is, I
believe, the literal truth that, as the sun shines day by day
on each part of the world, he sees at each moment the
blessed Sacrifice of the Altar uplifted to the Eternal
Father. Where, save in the Catholic Church, shall we find
such a fulfilment of the prophecy—“From the rising of the
sun unto the going down of the same shall incense be
offered to My Name and a pure offering?” Not only so,
but throughout the world—from “ Greenland’s icy moun
tains to “ India’s coral strand ”—wherever two or three are
�Why I left the Church of England
19
gathered together in the One Name is the same belief, the
same sacrifice, mainly the same ritual: so that the Irish
exile leaving the Old World for the New, where Catholi
cism is increasing with rapid strides, is as much at home
in the churches of New York as he was in his roadside
country chapel in the old country. Can any Catholic for
a moment conceive the possibility of finding any one
doctrine preached at St. George’s contradicted by the
priest at Walworth, controverted in the sermon in the
Catholic chapel at Vauxhall, and called in question by
Canon Murnane in the Borough ? Can he imagine Cardinal
Vaughan’s teaching on the Mass contradicted by our own
beloved Bishop ? But will any Protestant tell me that—to
take the two Anglican churches nearest to us—the teaching
at St. Paul’s is identical with that at St. Alphege ? Could
Mr. Allwork’s congregation next Sunday avail themselves of
Mr. Goulden’s ministrations, or join in the hymns and
prayers addressed to the Blessed Sacrament and the
Mother of God ?
The Catholic can go all over the world, and wherever he
goes he will find the same Faith and the same Sacrifice.
The Protestant cannot go at random into two churches in
the same neighbourhood with any certainty that the teach
ing or ceremonial will be similar, and that with regard to
the most vital points of faith. “ How can two walk together
except they be agreed ? ” Remember that, as the cowl
does not make the monk, so the most elaborate ritual and
the most advanced teaching cannot make a Catholic. A
few weeks ago I strolled into a handsome Church in this
neighbourhood, just as a lady dressed like a nun was taking
the school-children to service. There was the raised altar,
with its flowers and lights and crucifix and what looked
very like a tabernacle, and before the altar burned seven
lamps. “ Is this a Catholic Church ?” I said to the verger.
“ No, sir, Church of England,” was the reply. My friends
disguise it as you will, the truth will out: your Catholic
church is only the Church of England after all.
One point more. When I was thinking of becoming a
Catholic, I pointed out to a friend these differences exist
ing in the Church of England. Both, I said, cannot be
�20
Why I left the Church of England
true, but neither the Church herself, nor the State which
supports her, is able to say with authority which is right.
My friend told me—what I believe people still say—that
High and Low Church were united in essentials. Surely
the most ignorant and superstitious Papists ever invented
by a Protestant lecturer would recoil before such an
absurdity as this statement involves ! Surely it is “essential ”
to know whether Baptism is a mere symbol or a regener
ating sacrament; it cannot be a matter of indifference
whether the sons of men have or have not power on earth
to forgive sins ; it cannot be a matter of opinion whether
the sacrifice of the Mass is a blasphemous fable and
dangerous deceit, or the renewal of the great Sacrifice
offered on Calvary? There must be an authority to pro
nounce upon these points, and the Church of England
neither has nor claims to be such authority. From the
time of the Gorham Judgement, which left Baptism an
open question, down to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s
decision the other day, uncertainty, vagueness, and inde
cision have marked every attempt to formulate any definite
opinion. This last attempt has indeed justified ritualism
on the ground that it means nothing in particular, and
above all, nothing Roman. No wonder the Times spoke
of a “sense of unreality” in “the effort to treat, as neutral
or colourless, acts which we all know to be, in the view of
a party in the Church, technical symbols and unequivocal
doctrinal signs.” It is true that, with marvellous effrontery
a popular Anglican hymn asserts—
“We are not divided,
All one body we ;
One in hope and doctrine,
One in charity.” *
But does any Anglican believe it to be true?
“Not
divided 1 ” Is there any one who will assert that the
“ doctrine ” preached in the first half-dozen Anglican
churches he comes across will be “ one ? —or that the
[It would appear that even Anglicans themselves have been • struck
by the absurdity of this statement, for in the new edition of Hymns
Ancient and Modern the verse begins :
“ Though divisions harass,
All one body we.”]
�Why I left the Church of England
21
teaching of what is termed, with unconscious irony, the
“ religious press,” has any claims to be considered ident
ical ? If the “ doctrine ” is one, why do we find in the
same Church two such organizations as the English Church
Union and the Church Association, each diametrically
opposed to the other, and the latter continually prosecut
ing the clergy who represent the views of the former ?
Is there anywhere such a spectacle of division as this —
a division which, as soon as the bonds of State Establish
ment shall have been broken asunder, cannot fail to be
even more manifest than it is at present.
“ Not divided ! ” It must be nearly thirty years ago, I
think, that St. Paul’s, Lorrimore Square, was in the fore
front of Anglicanism. There was a change of vicar, and
the congregation so little realized that they were “ one in
doctrine,” with their new clergyman, that a great part of
them seceded, and formed the nucleus of what is now the
large body of worshippers attending St. Agnes’, Kennington.
But why if they were “not divided,” if they were “one in
doctrine,” did they not stay where they were ?
“Not divided!” Is not division the very essence of
Protestantism ? and are not the divisions in the Establish
ment sufficient proof that it is Protestant? “We have
within the Church of England,” said the Times on one
occasion, “ persons differing not only in their particular
tenets, but in the rule and ground of their belief.”
Put it another way. Take the case of a Nonconformist
who' desires to become a member of the Church of
England: suppose him to be some one in this neighbour
hood : is he to be taken to St. Paul’s or to St. Alphege’s ?
Who is to decide ? Surely it is not a matter of indifference.
Mr. Ruskin has said that “ The Protestant who most
imagines himself independent in his thought, and private
in his study of Scripture, is nevertheless usually at the
mercy of the nearest preacher who has a pleasant voice
and ingenious fancy.” * Arid surely the faith which is
put forward as that of the Church of England, depends
entirely on the belief of the individual parson referred to,
How different is the case with the Catholic Church !
Our Fathers Have Told Us, iii, 125.
�22
Why I left the Church of England
I have said that the Church of England neither has nor
claims authority; and my last words shall be devoted to
making this plain. If she has authority, as our High
Church friends assert, whence does she derive it ? Not
from the old Church of England, for by the Reformation
of Elizabeth, the old Catholic episcopate was swept away.
Of the sixteen surviving Catholic Bishops, all save one—
Kitchin of Llandaff, who took no part in the Reformation,
nor in the consecration of Parker—were imprisoned, and
Parker and those consecrated by him were intruded into
the sees of the imprisoned Bishops. But granting that
Parker and the rest were validly consecrated, whence did
they get jurisdiction ? Certainly not from the old Catholic
Bishops ; most certainly not from the source whence these
obtained it, namely, the Pope; not by the fact of consecra
tion, for orders and jurisdiction are distinct, and received
independently of each other; not from either of Parker’s
consecrators—Barlow, Scory, Coverdale, and Hodgkins—
for not one of these was in possession of a see, and they
could not give what they themselves did not possess. The
only answer possible, however unpalatable it may be to
High Churchmen, is, that they got jurisdiction from the
Crown, or not at all.
Every Protestant bishop now takes the oath of suprem
acy, by which he professes that the Sovereign is the “ only
supreme governor” of the realm “in spiritual and ecclesi
astical things, as well as in temporal.” Whence the
sovereign obtained this supremacy, or what “ warranty of
Scripture ” can be adduced for it, 1 do not know ; nor do
I think it easy to ascertain.
Moreover, the Establishment not only does not possess
authority, but she expressly disclaims it. The First General
Council of the Church prefaced its teaching with—“It
seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us: ” and the
Catholic Church, right down to the present day, has spoken
with like authority. But what does the Church of England
say ? Her anxiety not to be regarded as having any
authority is almost pathetic : “All Churches have erred,”
she says, “ in matters of faith ” and it is implied that she may
fail also. The Church has power, indeed to decree rites
�Why I left the Church of England
23
and ceremonies, and authority in controversies of faith, but
it cannot decree anything unless it is taken out of Holy
Scripture. General Councils are not only dependent on
the will of princes, but when assembled, may err and have
erred, nor may the Church declare anything of faith which
is not read in Holy Scripture. These things she tells us in
her Articles of Religion. But, to go a step further, who
gave Holy Scripture its authority ? It claims none for
itself as a whole ; it nowhere tells us of what books it is
composed; Christians are nowhere told to read it; no text
bids us keeps Sunday holy, or authorizes infant baptism, or
the taking of oaths. Who vouches for the authority of
the Bible, I repeat ? who, but that Church which from the
earliest times has been its guardian and its only rightful
interpreter.
It is true that to claim authority is one thing and to
possess it is another. If saying we had a thing were
equivalent to having it, we should find nowadays authorized
teachers in abundance. But it is difficult to believe that a
body deriving its teaching power from God would take so
much trouble to deny the possession of it. The Catholic
Church does not act thus.
And when the spiritual head of the Establishment is
consulted, he shows himself her true son. Some years ago,
Mr. Maskell, who afterwards became a Catholic, asked the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Sumner, whether he might
or might not teach certain doctrines of faith ? “ To which,”
the Archbishop said, “ I reply : are they contained in the
word of God ? Whether they are so contained, and can be
proved thereby, you have the same means of discovering as
myself, and I have no special authority to declare.”
Here is the judgement passed upon the Church of
England by the learned Dr. Dollinger, a man who has
some claim to respect from Protestants, seeing that he had
the misfortune to die outside the unity of the Catholic
Church. “ There is no Church that is so completely and
thoroughly as the Anglican, the product and expression of
the wants and wishes, the modes of thought and cast of
character, not of a certain nationality, but of a fragment of
a nation, namely, the rich, fashionable, and cultivated
�24
Why I left the Church of England
classes. It is the religion of deportment, of gentility, of
clerical reserve. Religion and the Church are then required
to be above all things, not troublesome, not intrusive, not
presuming, not importunate.” “ It is a good church to live
in,” some one said, “ but a bad one to die in.”
The absence of authority and of definite teaching—these
were the reasons which induced me to leave the Church of
England. The step once taken, all was clear; and on
every side I found abundant evidence that, if there be a
Church of God upon earth, the Holy Catholic and Roman
Church alone can claim that title. That evidence I cannot
bring before you now—I have already detained you too
long. My Catholic hearers do not need it, and my
Protestant friends will do well to seek it from those better
qualified than myself, qualified to speak with an authority
which cannot attach to any sayings of mine. To both
Catholics and Protestants I would recommend the perusal
of the Lectures on the Present Position of Catholics in
England, * which were delivered by John Henry Newman,
“ the noblest Roman of them all ”—not long after he left
the Establishment, thus, as Lord Beaconsfield said upon
one occasion, “ dealing the Church of England a blow from
which she still reels.” In those lectures you will find
almost every popular objection against the Church met with
a charm of literary style and with a courteousness of
expression which, so far as I know, has never been equalled ;
and even those who remain unconvinced of the truth of
the Church will be constrained to admit that there is at
least another aspect of things which seemed to them to
admit of only one, and that a bad one. It has been well
said that the truths of the Church are like stained glass
windows in a building: look at them from without, all is
confusion : but go inside, Jet the light of heaven stream
through them, and each fragment takes its place in the
glorious aud beautiful picture which is presented to your
delighted gaze. So, from without, the doctrines of the
Church seem dark and confused ; but the light of heaven
pours through them to those within.
* [Of these a shilling edition is now published by the Catholic Truth
Society.]
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Why I left the Church of England
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Britten, James [1846-1924]
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 24 p. ; 19 cm.
Notes: "A Lecture delivered in March,1893, in St. George's School, Southwark, in answer to one given by a Mr. Fitzgerald, of the Protestant Alliance." Includes bibliographical references. Annotations in blue pencil. Date of publication from KVK (OCLC, WorldCat).
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Catholic Truth Society
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[1894?]
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RA1539
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Church of England
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<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Why I left the Church of England), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
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Text
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English
Church of England
Conversion-Catholic Church
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CT
4^
THE
((
CONFOUNDED” CONVERT.
PUBLISHED BY THOMAS SCOTT,
11 THE TERRACE, FARQUHAR ROAD, UPPER NORWOOD,
LONDON, S.E.
1876.
Price Ninepence.
'
�LONDON:
PRINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET,
J, HAYMARKET, W.
�THE
“CONFOUNDED” CONVERT.
LAMENTABLE want of tact ordinarily disfi
gures the conduct of those whose friends or
relatives exhibit tendencies Rome-wards. A very
limited knowledge of human nature is enough to
convince us that, neither in early childhood nor in
after life, is opposition of much avail. Even when
we are under the influence of a mere whim, re
monstrance, however well meant, generally increases
our craving for the coveted object, and engenders
malevolent feelings towards our opponents.
When I was a child my father took me, when long
evenings were setting in, to buy a paint-box in a
large repository. While he was selecting one, my
eyes had fallen upon a large, clumsy, wooden horse,
to which I took a violent fancy, and implored my
father to buy me that instead of the paint-box. He
did not choose a moment so inappropriate for preach
ing a sermon, but instantly bought the horse and
helped me to draw it home. The wheels were too
small and too slight, so the horse fell down several
times. Not a disparaging word did my father utter;
he picked it up, and said he would make some nice,
new wheels.
In two or three days the whim was over; I was
tired of my horse, and wanted a paint-box. With a
lamentable absence of generosity, I asked my father
why he had not bought the paint-box. “ Because,”
A
�4
The “Confounded” Convert.
said he, “ you had set your mind upon a horse, and
though I knew you would get tired of it, I wished
you to choose for yourself.” “ But why did not you
tell me I should get tired of it ?” persisted I. “Be
cause,” said he, “your head was too full of the
horse to listen to reason. You would have disliked
the paint-box just then ; you would have thought me
unkind; besides, I do not want you to use my eyes,
I want you to learn to act for yourself; if you think
you have made a bad choice I am very glad of it,
and we will see about the paint-box at once.” Older
folks take fancies to real horses, and can papa restrain
them ?
People are never so much in earnest as when their
religious feelings are aroused, and all hostile measures
are worse than useless. Those who begin to doubt
are in a fair way; they have then begun to think,
and the more they think upon religious matters, the
more they will doubt. People retain their old creeds
because they rarely think them out. “ Think wrongly
if you please,” says Lessing, “but think for your
self.” Prom the moment a man begins to think, the
horizon clears, and though he may be destined to
wander in a maze of dogmas for years, his ultimate
conclusions will, if he be worth anything and con
tinue to think,, land him as far away from Rome as
his most zealous friends could wish.
Regret, if you will, the tediousness of the process,
but do not retard it by coarse ridicule and impolitic
opposition. Assist him, on the contrary, to dive
deeply into the heart of Rome. Depend upon it, if
once he get into it, he is sure to get out of it, and
though he may travel thither by slow and easy
stages, he will assuredly return by express.
Many, perhaps most, born Catholics and super
ficial converts stagnate in the Pontine marshes merely
because they give themselves no trouble. With one
decade of the Rosary, and one chapter of the Imita
�The “Confounded” Convert.
5
tion daily, one Mass weekly, and three confessions
and communions yearly, a person may go dithering
on in respectable orthodoxy, tormenting neither him
self nor his neighbours with his spiritual concerns.
But the zeal of an earnest, conscientious, thoughtful
convert should never be suffered to flag; that is to
say, if those to whom he is near and dear are anxious
to see him emancipated from his fetters. He should
not be thwarted but seconded, not coarsely and scorn
fully, but with great tact and discretion. It will be
of the utmost service to him to go daily to Mass, to
confess at least once a week, to communicate very
frequently, to say five Mysteries of the Rosary and
the Little Office every evening, to try to gain every
Indulgence offered, to wear the five Scapulars, the
miraculous medal and an Agnus Dei, and to become
a tertiary of one of the religious orders in “ the world.”
If very enthusiastic he should procure the Little
Office, extracted from the works of St. Bonaventura,
in which the Psalms of David and the Te Deum are
adapted to Mary—“ 0 come let us sing unto our
Lady,” “Holy, Holy, Holy, Mary Mother of God.”
This Office is said daily by the priests of the Pious
Society of the Missions, and may be had gratis at the
Italian Church.
He should often serve at Benediction, and thus
become conversant with candle ends and decoration
dodges. He should be encouraged to walk in reli
gious processions after a tottering doll with a lighted
candle in his hand, singing the Litany of our Lady.
His reading should not be confined to the Lamp, and
other trashy serials; he should make himself tho
roughly acquainted with S. Thomas Aquinas, Bossuet,
Liguori, &c. Por a while it would do him immense
good to confine himself exclusively to the Lives of
the Saints, selecting those compiled by the Fathers
of the Oratory, and beginning with Saint Rose of
Lima, which is short and shocking.
�6
The “Confounded” Convert.
Last, but not least, be should become intimately
acquainted with a great many priests, especially
foreign ones. He should consult them in the confes
sional upon cases of conscience,, knotty points, &c.,
and see them at the dinner-table over their wine.
Let all this be done zealously and uninterruptedly for
a period varying from seven to twenty years—few
cases progress more rapidly—and your convert if
worth anything will not disappoint you. But you
must give him time. Rome was not built in a day,
and she will not be destroyed in a day. Innumerable
occult influences, wholly unsuspected by lookers-on,
have frequently influenced during a period of many
months those contemplating Rome, and having finally
braved public opinion, and taken the decisive step, is
it at all likely that they will be laughed out of such
convictions by some indignant Protestant, who in all
probability has never thought about his own creed,
and would be much embarrassed to give an answer
to the question “ How do you know the Protestants
are right ? ” Everybody is aware that a large pro
portion of converts quietly leave the Church of Rome ;
some of them return to the sect they quitted, but
most of them become free-thinkers.
Only a few months ago I heard a priest, whose
success in winning Anglicans to Rome is well-known,
give an address to a religious community upon the
occasion of his receiving a convert into the church.
He said, “ the wonderful religious movement through
out the length and breadth of the metropolis, hopeful
and encouraging though it seems, fills me with appre
hension. It is one thing to receive the faith and
another to retain it. Grave doubts beset me when I
review my converts, and I therefore earnestly implore
you to pray that they may obtain the grace of per
severance.”
, My circle of acquaintances is by no means exten
sive, and yet I have seen ten of them abandon the
�The “Confounded” Convert.
7
Church of Rome. Of these ten, seven were converts.
The remaining three were an Italian lady, an Italian
gentleman, and a young Spaniard. I know them
intimately; they are all free-thinkers, though the
men were educated in Catholic colleges abroad. Let
us now see how Rome looks to thoughtful converts,
when, having recovered from the agitation ordinarily
inseparable from a step so important, and having
become reconciled to the novelty of their position,
they can calmly glance around them.
Though it is mainly my own experience that I am
about to submit to the reader, I am, I believe, justified
in constituting myself the mouth-piece of others from
whom I am now severed by death or distance, but
with whom I have frequently discussed those tenets,
practices, and tendencies, which we all ultimately re
pudiated entirely. The remainder of this pamphlet
will be unsatisfactory owing to its fragmentary
character. I have endeavoured to recall the various
things that shocked and startled me, as one by one
they came before me, until the Papal Infallibility
proved the drop too much and drove me without the
pale. Had I heard Mgr. Berteaud, Bishop of Tulle,
preach in Paris three years ago, I should have had a
clearer idea of infallibility, for he contends that “ St.
Peter did not need to be taught by Christ, as he was
in confidential relations with the Father independently
of the Son, and that the like privilege extends to his
successors; thus Father and Pope may have secrets
in which Christ does not participate, so that it is
safer to go to the Pope than to Christ, for when the
Pope speaks it is more than Christ—it is God the
Father Himself ” ! Thus spoke the learned Bishop
in the Church of St. Eustache.
From first to last I was astonished, disconcerted,
and scandalized at the irreverent rapidity with which
priests allow themselves to address God in the solemn
sacrifice of the mass. Not one priest, now and then,
�8
The a Confounded ” Convert.
but all the priests I knew habitually gabbled over
their mass with such unseemly haste, that I, though
my own utterance is rapid to a fault, soon abandoned
all idea of keeping up with them. From the supposed
divinity of the reputed author of the Lord’s Prayer
and from its extreme brevity, one would suppose that
something like reverence would accompany its recital,
yet that is the very prayer the priests gabble through
in a manner I found to be physically impossible, and
which led me to surmise that labial as well as 11 mental
reservations ” were sanctioned by Rome.
Nothing can exceed the ludicrous manner in which
the Rosary and Angelus are scrambled through in
public; it must be heard to be believed—priests and
people are animated apparently by but one object, to
get it over as fast as possible. Let any one go into
a Catholic church while this devotion is going on and
say whether or no I exaggerate. Father Faber
thought it “ advisable to pray at railroad speed, that
the prayer might be over before the devil had time to
tamper with it ” ! I have asked priests how it is that
they encourage such perfunctory devotion by setting
so bad an example. I have been told “ God looks to
the heart, and as our thoughts always travel much
quicker than our words, it cannot matter how fast we
move our lips.” Rome is never at a loss for an
answer ! Other priests have, however, agreed with
me and admitted that it would be far better to have
ten “ Hail Marys ” said with devotion, than fifty so
ludicrously gabbled. The Stations of the Cross gene
rally performed in all the churches upon Friday
evenings in Lent, ought from its nature to be one of
the most impressive devotions ; but let those anxious
to pay their tribute of sorrow and sympathy to their
suffering Master avoid those fourteen stations where
all their devotions will be put to flight by the fourteen
“ Our Fathers,” “ Hail Marys,” and “ Glory be to
the Fathers,” hurried through with the same busi
�9
The “Confounded” Convert.
ness-like rapidity which mars the mass, the Rosary,
and indeed all the vocal prayers at which I have had
the misfortune to be present.
Another great stumbling-block to converts, is the
filth of the sanctified. The unpretending secular priest
says his mass with clean hands; but those conspi
cuous for piety, like the Capuchin Fathers and Monks
of Mount Carmel, say their mass with very dirty
hands and black nails. They go through the cere
mony of dipping the tips of their fingers into cold
water at what is ironically called the “ Lavabo,” but hot
water, soap, flannel, and a nail-brush would be a more
appropriate Lavabo for one about to handle his Crea
tor. . “ In the hands of the priest,” says S. Augustine,
‘‘ as in the virginal womb of Mary, the word becomes
incarnate.” “ In the hands of the priest,” says Bossuet, “ a physical action takes place as real as that by
which the Saviour’s body was formed the first time.”
But very holy priests do not think it at all necessary
to have clean hands; a clean heart is all they crave
and in the Church of Rome outward and visible filth
is not unfrequently viewed as a symptom of inward
and spiritual grace; but it takes converts a Iong time to
associate a lively faith in the Real Presence with very
dirty fingers, and many ardent Catholics, to whom I
have often mentioned my own notions on this point,
have honestly admitted that the negligence of very
holy priests in this particular has impressed them
very unfavourably; the only excuse that can be made
for them is, that they are “ righteous over njuch.”
Those who leave the Church of England on account
of the discord which there prevails, are wofully dis
appointed as they gradually discover that in joining
the Church of Rome they have not come to an “ in
numerable company of angels.”
Bitterness of feeling which, strange to say, the
priests, take no pains to conceal, is found among
Catholic orders as among Protestant sects. The
B
�IO
The ^Confounded" Convert.
secular priests are jealous of the regulars, who manage
to get hold of more consciences, and, consequently, of
more money.
An excellent secular priest once said to me, “ When
I get tired of real hard work I shall go into a monas
tery ; those monks have a fine time of it; never ex
posed to the inclemency of the weather, and always
taken care of when they are ill. I have no one to
look after me. Whoever wants an easy life, let him
be a monk, say I, and whoever wants to get rich, let
him take a vow of poverty I” An excellent regular
priest once said to me, “ What should a secular priest
know of the inner life ? Always in contact with the
‘ world,’ what should he know of union with God, and
how can he guide a soul through the obscure night of
mental prayer ? I have never been able to compre
hend the vocation of a secular priest.” Another em
phatically expressed his doubts as to whether Mon
signor Capel would be saved ; and, considering that
several monsignors have “come out from among
them,” those doubts were justifiable ! Let those who
wish to convince themselves of the malevolence exist
ing between the regulars and the seculars, take up
their quarters in Kensington and make their obser
vations.
“ How is it you do not come to hear me preach on
Tuesdays?” said a Kensington priest to me. “We
attend the Carmelite church,” said I, “and prefer it
to any other.” “I am quite at a loss to understand
what in the world people find so attractive in that
church, and in those uneducated foreign monks,” ob
served he ; “ what is the use of them ? what do they
do all day ?” The monks are not allowed to adminis
ter the last sacraments without the permission of the
head-priest at the Pro-Cathedral, who refuses to grant
it. Once this refusal went forth under circumstances
that placed his conduct in a very unamiable light.
An elderly French gentlewoman came over during
�The “Confounded” Convert.
n
the war, and fell ill in her rooms, just opposite the
Carmelite church. The French monks visited her
frequently, and showed her every attention; but, as
her end approached, it was explained to her that she
would be obliged to send for an Englishman from the
Pro-Cathedral. She besought the monk to ask per
mission to attend her until the end; but he, having
been frequently refused, declined. A friend of mine,
who had devoted much time and money to the in
terests of the Pro-Cathedral priests, offered to present
the old lady’s petition in person and plead her cause
herself. She was unsuccessful. The French monk
was not allowed to give the last sacraments to his
countrywoman who was dying just opposite to him,
so she was anointed by an Englishman from the
parish church. Not converts only, but old Catholics,
are shocked at the envy, hatred, malice, and all un
charitableness so artlessly exhibited by their spiritual
pastors and masters. The priests I knew had a very
contemptuous opinion of the Jesuits and their tactics;
they used their private judgment considerably while
discussing their demerits, and were of opinion that
the members of the Society of Jesus were more alive
to their own interest than to that of their Master !
However, it takes converts a long while to digest
the various inconsistencies and disappointments that
come before them. None so blind as those who will not
see. Converts are in that position ; they see things
as they ought to be—not as they are. But give them
time, lend yourself to their delusions, go with them
to church now and then, read the same books, second
the setting-up of a candle before an image of St.
Joseph, treat their favourite priests hospitably, and
you will have your reward.
In my visits to the sick I was occasionally asked
for an Agnus Dei. I had never seen one. I went to
buy some and found they were not to be purchased, but
that I might possibly get one from a priest. I men
�12
The “Confounded ” Convert.
tioned the matter to an amiable old lady, who at once
gave me what she called a “ very perfect ” one, which
some devout priest had brought from Rome. It was
enclosed in a tiny leather bag, neatly stitched with silk.
Previous to giving it away, I thought I would have
a look at it, so I ripped it open and saw some cotton
wool. Wool was more suggestive of a lamb, but they
had told me there was wax in the bag, and, as this
was a “ very perfect ” Agnus Dei, I expected to find
wax. I saw the wool but not the wax; however, a
priest had told me not to trust the evidence of my
senses, so I replaced the wool, stitched up the bag
and gave it away; for after all a fraction of wax
might have been there to which the Papal blessing
might have been attached, and which might prove in
valuable in a thunder-storm. In religion we must
walk by faith and not by sight. It was not more
extraordinary that an atom of wax, invisible to the
naked eye, should preserve from lightning than that
a crumb of the host should contain the entire Christ 1
Some time afterwards, a priest for whom I have a
sincere regard, asked me to do him a great favour.
He wanted me to translate a little book upon the
Agnus Dei from the Prench. I did so, and much
regret that I kept no extracts from a work to which
I owe many a hearty laugh. An Agnus Dei was
there said to be well-nigh omnipotent, curing every
species of malady, and averting all peril on land and
water. With an Agnus Dei worn with faith, all
human interference was rendered unnecessary, and
even a tiny fraction of one (for an entire one is rarely
seen) had produced results most marvellous. In
justice to the priest I must add that he was heartily
ashamed of that little book, and called to express his
regret that I had wasted my time over it. Half of it
had been cut out by the authorities to whom he sub
mitted it, while he said he should have cut out the
whole of it I
�The “Confounded” Convert.
i3
Everybody is aware that nothing is so hostile to the
interests of Rome as private judgment, and that to
the suppression of it she owes that appearance of
unity so attractive to converts. But let the con
verts dive deeply and they will come to such a rich
vein of confusion among the priests, to whose judg
ment they are so ready to submit, that at last they
will be forced to lay aside their ecclesiastical spectacles
and scrutinise this confusion with the naked eye.
Fervent converts of either sex are generally willing
enough to give up their private judgment, at least for
a while.
Many of them have long been tossed about upon
the waves of controversy, and, having been driven
from pillar to post, il seeking rest and finding none,”
are quite delighted to lie at anchor in the hospitable
harbour of the Church of Rome; but the moment
they put to sea again, as the enterprising are sure to
do, they will find a most uneven surface, and upon
the rocks beneath the greater number will certainly
shipwreck. Once while waiting to see a friend, I saw
a book upon “Frequent Communion,” by the Abbe
Favre. It interested me and I borrowed it. In it
were these words : “If you permit the sacred host to
dissolve in the mouth you do not communicate,
because the Eucharist does not nourish or produce its
effects but in the manner of food by descending into
the chest.” Wondering what, under such highly
problematical circumstances became of Jesus Christ,
I was much struck by these lines and determined to
ventilate the matter. I read the extract to a lady of
almost masculine intellect, who, though she had been
brought up a Catholic, has recently left the Church.
She said she always endeavoured to keep her tongue
motionless after communion, and was never conscious
of the act of deglutition. “Then,” said I, “it is
quite clear that you have never communicated.”
When next I went to confession I asked the priest
�The “Confounded” Convert.
if these things were so. “ I never heard of such a
thing in my life,” said he, with genuine amazement;
but when I gave my authority, and showed him the
extract, he said he would make inquiry. Meantime,
my mother, who was as deeply interested in these
matters as myself, determined to ask her learned
Jesuit confessor the same question. On the following
Saturday we each went to confession, and then com
pared notes. My secular priest said, “ I have made
inquiries about that matter and find it is true; you
do not communicate ; you must not let the Host
lose its consistency, but swallow it entire.” My
mother’s Jesuit confessor said, “ That’s all bosh, my
dear child ! ’ No doubt he was right. No doubt
that answer would suit most of the questions asked
in the confessional, and put an effectual end to all
scruples of conscience; but what about the conver
who is so ready to give up his own judgment and
submit to another ?
People cannot run over to the Vatican for an in
fallible answer. One priest says that they have not
received Jesus Christ, another says they have, and
who is to decide ?
Before becoming a Catholic I had mesmerised many
people and performed various cures. My first con
fessor was a Jesuit, who, being less ignorant of
mesmerism and its effects than are priests generally,
raised no objection to my continuing to employ it as
a curative agent. But he went abroad, and I sought
another priest, who not only seemed horrified that I
had ever had anything to do with mesmerism, but
insisted upon my giving it up. I maintained that,
as a Jesuit father had sanctioned it, it was impossible
the Church could condemn it. My words made an
impression. He promised to make particular inquiry
concerning the decision of the Church on the subject.
He did so, and assured me that under no circum
stances could a practice of a nature so questionable
�The “Confounded” Convert.
15
be tolerated, and he once more requested me to
abandon it.
Some months later, an Italian priest of gentle
birth and considerable culture, came to pass his
vacation in London. He was introduced to us, and
became our constant visitor. He was slowly regain
ing his strength after a lingering attack of typhoid
fever, and one day asked me if I could direct him to
a respectable mesmerist, as he had but little faith in
drugs ! Laughing in my sleeve, I sent him to Mons.
Adolphe Didier, who mesmerised him three times a
week until he returned to Italy considerably bene
fited. This most amiable and charitable priest as
sured me that the English clergy dawdle sadly over
mass, and that in Italy they get over it in twenty
minutes. On Sunday he chose the ten o’clock mass
because it was the shortest, but invariably com
plained, with amusing frankness, of its length. He
did not give us an opportunity of seeing how fast he
could celebrate the solemn sacrifice, for he did not
say mass at all during his holidays, but, availing
himself of his opportunity, entered freely into the
amusements of the metropolis, frequenting, in par
ticular, the Canterbury Hall, where, having paid for
two seats, one for himself and the other for his hat,
he gave himself up to the enjoyment of . the comic
songs he heard, the music and words of one of
which he took to Italy to console himself with when
his holidays were over. I was subsequently thrown
into frequent contact with some monks from La
Trappe, temporarily absent from their monastery for
mercantile purposes, whose conduct, though they re
ceived Jesus Christ every day, and never went to
the Canterbury Hall, contrasted most unfavourably
with that of our Italian friend. I had an opportu
nity of observing those monks as, day after day,
they breakfasted upon rump-steak, eggs, claret,
and coffee. I heard the incessant chattering the
priest kept up, and examined the unusually deli
�i5
The “Confounded'1' Convert.
1
cate texture of his flannel vests. His temper was
under as little control as his tongue, and his conduct,
from first to last, exhibited a lamentable absence of
honourable feeling. It does not fall to the lot of
many to walk through the streets of London with a
Trappist monk to buy a frying-pan. The priest’s
companion was the cook of the community, and an
adept at frying. Wishing to put his talent to the
test, I requested him to fry some fish, &c. Having
obtained the priest’s permission, he of course assented,
but contended that he must have a different fry
ing-pan. He could not speak English, and I could
not understand what sort of a frying-pan he wanted,
so I offered to go with him to a shop to buy one.
The priest raised no objection, and promising not to
speak unnecessarily, we sallied forth. My impres
sion now is that the objection to the frying-pan
was a ruse on the part of the cook, for he could not
meet with one to suit him; but, as we were returning,
he suddenly showed me some paper money, and
asked me where he could get it changed. I took
him to a shop, and saw some sovereigns handed over
to him. “I do not wish Father Francis to know
anything about this,” said he. “All right,” said I,
“ the silence of La Trappe shall seal my lips ! ” I
should never have believed that a Trappist priest
would have allowed his young monk to take a walk
with a woman—but he did. I should never have
believed that a young monk, so fresh from his vows,
would have had any money unknown to his superior
—but he had. Still less should I have believed that
he would take me into his confidence, and get that
money changed through my instrumentality—but he
did. We knew for a certainty that those monks
were from La Trappe—we should never have guessed
it. The monk was as effectually hidden in the man
as was the Agnus Dei in that cotton wool 1 Their
affections may have been set upon “things above,”
�The ^Confounded” Convert.
17
but their conversation was decidedly “of the earthearthy,” and my ecclesiastical spectacles almost fell
off during my acquaintance with them. Father
Francis contradicted the report that Trappists dig
their own graves. He said the mortality was very
high in the Order, and, judging by appearances, was
in no hurry to rejoin his brethren who “die daily ! ”
Experiences such as mine were calculated to set a
convert thinking, and I did think very deeply—but
the end was not yet—I had not dug deeply enough.
The next thing that arrested my attention was
spirit-rapping. Those priests 1 knew viewed it as
an appalling sin. They assured me that it emanated
from the devil, and that the sign of the cross had
frequently put an abrupt termination to a seance at
which great things were expected. I did not contra
dict them. The priests my mother knew took a more
genial view of the matter, and volunteered to accom
pany her to a seance, so she wrote to a well-known
medium and appointed a meeting. Some of them
also were under the erroneous impression that in
their sacred presence no manifestations could take
place, and that a crucifix, breviary, or sign of the
cross could put a legion of devils to flight, but we
knew better, and it is well that all priests should know
that some of the most startling phenomena take place
in defiance of so-called holy people and holy objects.
It is in the presence of confirmed sceptics and mate
rialists that no results ensue; a fact so well known
that should a priest succeed by his mere presence in
preventing or interrupting any so-called manifesta
tions, one would be inclined to suspect that the
failure was due to infidelity on Ms part, or that the
supposed fraction of the true Cross in his crucifix
was not genuine !
An amusing instance of the folly of leaning upon
a so-called “superior” occurred in my own expe
rience. My confessor was abroad. I was passing
�The “Confounded” Convert.
through a mental phase of an embarrassing nature,
so, like a well-instructed Catholic, I determined to
“show myself to the priest.” Selecting one who
knew me well, I manifested myself unto him. He
admitted his inability to counsel me, but earnestly
recommended me to apply to the bishop of the dio
cese, Dr. Grant, who from his position as father of
the flock, and from his distinguished piety, was so
competent to give me good advice. I obeyed this
well-meaning but short-sighted priest, sought Dr.
Grant, and followed the whimsical counsel he gave.
How matters might have turned out had I used my
own judgment it is, of course, impossible to say ; but
worse they could not have gone than they did under
the episcopal guidance of that holy man.
A third, to whom long after I mentioned the matter,
expressed his amazement that any priest should have
sent me to a man so devoid of judgment as Dr. Grant,
while a fourth insinuated that he was more of a sneak
than a saint. Who shall decide when doctors disagree ?
Infallibility ought to be transferable ; the fallibility
of the poor priests causes sad havoc among the
faithful, who trust implicitly to the leadership of
those who to them are Popes, and to whom they are
taught to look up to as to God; for “ the voice of the
priest is the voice of God,” and each man’s con
fessor is to him a bright and shining light.
By this time I had had almost enough of “ spiritual
direction,” and whenever my thoughts reverted to
the matter, one Martin of blessed memory obtruded
himself into my meditations and detracted seriously
from the dignity of the whole subject. I was only a
convert1
Before and after my reception into the church I
had spoken often and openly with my Jesuit instructor
upon the subject of Mary.
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost were, I contended,
enough for any reasonable person, and Mary was an
�The (lConfounded” Convert.
19
excrescence. I told him I considered the Rosary a
most contemptible devotion, and that to hear how
agreeable such a string of “ Hail Marys ” was to
Christ’s mother, did not raise her in my estimation.
I told him I could neither use the prayers nor believe
the miracles in the “ Glories of Mary,” and that I
was glad that many staunch, old Catholics regretted
the circulation of such a collection of absurdities.
Jesuits, it is well known, are 11 all things to all men ; ”
their main object is to send people away pleased with
themselves and, above all, with their director; my
friend was one of the most acute but not one of the
most conciliating. He said there was no necessity
for me to use prayers or adopt practices towards
which I felt no attraction. The Rosary was not of
obligation—belief in the miracles was not binding
upon the faithful. The Litany of our Lady was cer
tainly sung at Benediction, but Benediction was not
of obligation, so that I was making a great fuss about
nothing. St. Alphonsus was an enthusiastic Nea
politan, and of course his fervent appeals to Mary
sounded like exaggerations when translated into
English and read by those who had not his love for
Mary—a lover would be excused, even commended,
for saying he adored his intended, and no one would
suspect him of idolatry. I was not to depreciate the
“ Glories of Mary; ” I was to admit that I did not
love Mary, and that St. Liguori did ; he hoped the
day would come when I should think differently,
&c. He said, that as on earth we had father and
mother, so in heaven the feminine element was not
wanting, and that Mary was our heavenly mother.
I remarked that, as the Holy Ghost was feminine,
Mary was not wanted on account of her sex. I was
studying Hebrew with a Jew, who took an early
opportunity of telling me that in Hebrew that person
of the Christian Trinity is feminine, as well as the
bird Jonah, the dove, by which that person is sym
�20
The ’‘’’Confounded’' Convert.
11
bolised. He then, to humble me, assured me that one
“ Hail Mary ” offered with childlike faith is more
pleasing to God than learned disquisitions ; that I had
better pray for simplicity and study the penny cate
chism ; that he knew a poor milk-woman who, though
she had no education, had more “ inward light ” than
many who thought themselves to be somewhat, &c.
With similar platitudes confessors are in the habit of
silencing their troublesome penitents. I told a friend
of mine—not a convert—about that poor milk-woman.
To my surprise she burst out laughing. “ Why,”
said she, “ my confessor has a pious milk-woman in
tow! I bought ‘ Watts’s Logic’ the other day, and
was silly enough to tell him how much I liked it.
He said I must never look into it again, that humility
and not philosophy was expected of me, and that he
knew a poor milk-woman who had more knowledge
of God’s ways than his most learned penitents.” We
agreed that milk-women should have their confes
sionals where babes in theology might imbibe the
pure milk of the Word until able to digest 'Watts’s
Logic ’ and the Holy Ghost. The function of the
Holy Ghost is not easy to understand, for though
Mary was his spouse, Christ was not his son. Christ
was the Son of God the Father who was not the
Spouse of Mary. The Holy Ghost, we are told, united
God the Father to His daughter Mary, and the Incar
nation was the result! I could not understand this
“ mystery,” but I was not a milk-woman !
However, Mary herself seemed less complicated
than her relations, and, anxious to do as others did, and
to lose no grace through my own negligence, I com
menced invoking her.
I soon became conscious that the attitude of my
mind seemed precisely the same whether I was addres
sing God, Mary, or Joseph, and that therefore there
must be something wrong in myself or the system.
I returned to the charge with the Jesuit. He admitted
�The “ Confounded” Convert.
21
the difficulty, but said that11 folks did manage to over
come it, that in religion everything depended upon
the will. We must make our intention before we begin
to pray. Old Catholics felt the distinction between
dulia and latria, and so should I, by-and-by.” I read a
work upon the subject, and found that the Saints do
not hear the prayers made to them. God hears them
and tells them that certain people are praying; then
the Saints begin to pray and God begins to listen, so
that, after all, it is really to God that people are pray
ing ! The method was too complicated for me, though
I was considered lamentably deficient in simplicity.
Rome specially recommends the practice of medita
tion, and I did meditate at considerable length. Would
that others would devote themselves to so wholesome
a practice. I have said I went among the poor. To
them I feel sure Mary is Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost. I have spoken to priests who have travelled
in Italy and in Ireland; they have assured me that
the lower orders in both countries are far more
devout to the Saints than the upper classes here are
to the Trinity. I visited a Catholic servant girl who
was in St. Mary’s Hospital, about to undergo a
dangerous operation. I did not know at that time
that the Mother was more loved than the Son, so
began speaking to her about Jesus. “ I put all my
trust in Mary,” said she; “I get all I want from
Mary; I shall squeeze my image of Mary tight in my
hand all through the operation ; I am sure- she will
bring me through.” When naming this to a priest
who was dining with us, he assured me that he had
recently been attending a dying Irishwoman, and
could not induce her to say the holy name. There is
an indulgence for saying “ Jesus ” at the time of
death, but she would say nothing but Mary I An
ardent and most charitable Roman Catholic friend
once called upon me and implored me to pray for a
poor woman who was dying in the workhouse. She
�22
The “Confounded” Convert.
had been a fervent Catholic, and particularly devout
to St. Joseph, but now, said my friend, “ she talks
about 1 Jesus only ’ and all that Protestant cant, so I
have taken her a picture of St. Joseph, but I am most
anxious about her, for she has actually refused to see
a priest, and it is very shocking.”
This woman interested me deeply. I was anxious
to see her and ask why she had cast off Joseph and the
priest just when others seem most in need of them ;
so I hastened to the workhouse, but was too late.
The woman had expired, “ trusting to Jesus” to the
last, and seeking no additional aid from Joseph or the
priest. My friend was much grieved, but I was far
more concerned upon her account, and sympathised
more with the poor woman who had transferred her
affections from Joseph to Jesus. I have been thrown
into contact with a great number of Catholics who
had the liveliest faith in Joseph, and who were con
stantly making u Novenas” to him, burning a lamp in
his honour, and setting a candle up in the church be
fore his statue. Without one exception, I can say
that signal failure was the result of all these petitions
and practices—failure in one instance so complete
that I can never recall it without a smile. Joseph is
not an impartial saint; he has his favourites. S.
Teresa was one ; perhaps the poor woman in the
workhouse was not one.
I have already commented upon the marvellous
rapidity with which priests run up the hill of Calvary
to crucify Christ afresh in the unbloody sacrifice of
the mass, but I had yet to learn in what extraordinary
places they sometimes keep their Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ.
An intelligent young lady, a friend of mine, went
to America as a governess. When out of a situation
she was engaged by a priest for a few months as
house-keeper. She was only twenty-four. One even
ing, while she was quietly mending his cope, he
�The “Confounded" Convert.
23
entered the room and opened a cupboard, in which,
among other articles, his boots and shoes were kept.
“ Tour thickest boots are not there,” said my friend.
“ I do not want them,” said he; “I have only come
for the blessed sacrament. I am going to a sick call,
and shall not be in till late.” My young friend had
no idea Jesus Christ was in the boot-cupboard, but
there he was. She was not fortunate in her eccle
siastical acquaintances ; she had encountered some in
Austria whose mode of life afforded her copious matter
for meditation, and now she was not less amazed to
be engaged as housekeeper to a priest who said office
in true American fashion with his feet on the hobs
and kept the blessed sacrament in his boot-cupboard.
When her letter arrived containing this singular
information, we had with us an Irish lady, a very
dear friend. I read the letter to her. She said, “If
you were to see the Irish priests and the places in
which they keep the blessed sacrament, you would
wonder the people have a morsel of faith left. What
would you think of a priest who kept it in his waist
coat-pocket during a sailing excursion, and put it in
the drawer with his fishing-tackle when he got home ?
Ah, you English have no idea of the faith of the Irish!
you could never hold out!” “But,” said I, “ do you
think the priests have as much faith as the people F”
“Well, then,” said she (she was a merry girl from
Sligo), “ what they have faith in is a glass of good
whisky and a chat upon politics ; my brother-in-law
could never get them out of his house as long as a
drop of whisky was left in the bottle ! There is no
merit, at all at all, in the faith of you English ; you
should see an Irish missioner over boiled leg of mutton,
whisky and politics, and then put your faith to the
proof by going to confession to him the next morning,
while two or three dogs are quarrelling close to the
confessional. ¥ou do not know what faith is, in
England!”
�24
The “ Confounded” Convert.
She, doubtless, knew what superstition was in Ire
land, and may have had frequent opportunities of
remarking with what unedifying freedom some of the
Irish priests permit themselves to discuss confessional
matters over their dessert.
Various things had sorely shocked me, as one by
one they presented themselves to my reluctant gaze ;
but to hear priests express themselves so unreservedly
upon confessional matters, and that in the presence of
the laity, was certainly not calculated to impress a
convert favourably. “Priests,” said an old Irish
priest to me across the dessert-table “ are as embar
rassed as possible when they come to confession, and
no wonder, as the burden of their song is generally
something against the holy virtue. We are often
much embarrassed to know how to act; for instance,
here is a man and here is a woman, both in the same
boat, both come to confession, but neither of them
likely to bid adieu to the other. I withhold absolu
tion, but am told ‘ the whole family means to com
municate the following morning, and great scandal
will be caused by my abstaining, for they know I have
come out to confession ; pray do give me absolution! ’
What is the poor priest to do ? He cannot throw
Jesus Christ’s Body to the dogs ; he may not, even if
he would, expose his penitent to remark; I will tell
you how to manage. I give no absolution; I tell the
penitent to come to church with the others, but to
remember at the last moment that she swallowed a
drop of water and is disqualified for communion,
having broken her fast. Thus I screen Jesus Christ.”
Meditating upon these things, it seemed to me that,
if, to a woman and a convert, a priest will permit him
self to chat in this strain after four glasses of sherry,
what would he not say to his brethren after a glass
or two of whisky ? Names, I have been told, they
are careful to conceal, but reticent about the confes
�The “Confounded” Convert.
25
sional many of them are not, and those who are are
called “ priggish ” by the rest. A glass of wine
elicits many a remark respecting the tedious, trouble
some, and expensive ceremonial of which not the priests
only, but many of the thoughtful laity are not merely
weary but ashamed. It is a pitiable sight—one a
convert ought to see—the preliminaries of a procession
which take place in a dirty sacristy ; at the Italian
Church, for instance, let a convert go thither and
meditate.
An experience of a different nature came before me
next. I was requested to prepare a row of middle
class girls for their first Communion, and to bestow
special care upon one, named Emma, who it seems
had been already instructed for that sacrament a year
previously, but had not presented herself at the altar,
saying she had overslept herself. I did my best with
them all, and chose the easiest hymn I could find for
them all to learn. It began “ Jesus, Jesus come to
me, Oh how much I long for Thee.” But Emma
never knew it. One day she had lost her book;
another day she had had no time ; then she had been
ill; had been sent out on errands; had known itquite well last night, but now it had all gone out of
her head. I retained her when the others left, and
asked her kindly how it was she would not commit
such an easy hymn to memory. “ It is not that,'' said
Emma, “ but I don't long for Him, and I will not say
I long for Him when I know I do not.” 11 But do
you not love Jesus?” said I. “Ho, not much; I
like many people much better,” said candid Emma.
“ But we must try to love Him and to long for Him
. . . ” . She interrupted me with “ Oh, I know all
that, but suppose I don't love Him, what then ?” This
was a poser, so I said I would think over the matter.
These children were in a convent school, where they
were very short of nuns, two being ill, so I was asked
to help them. The reverend mother evinced no
C
�16
The “Confounded” Convert.
horror at Emma’s state of mind, but said, “ It does
look so bad for a convent girl nearly fifteen not to
have made her first Communion; what will people
say ? You had better choose another hymn ; go on
preparing her and if the priest passes her, you will
have no responsibility.”
I changed the hymn and “ went on ” preparing her ;
but at the eleventh hour Emma 1‘ went off,” and was
never seen by those conscientious nuns again. I have
every reason to suspect that from first to last the chief
object of the Church is, like that of “ the world,” to
keep up appearances.
The confessional is from first to last a mass of
inconsistencies, contradictions, aud absurdities, but
it requires some time to detect them. Those who
go but rarely to what is called “their duty,” and
who are indifferent about religious matters, will find
nothing to cavil at in the confessional. But the
earnest, thoughtful Catholic, who rakes out his con
science every week, and studies the conduct of those
who do likewise, may find a few flaws in the confes
sional—a few serious drawbacks to it, which may lead
him, though reluctantly, to the conclusion that he
could do his duty quite as well without going to “ his
duty.” Converts fancy it will be such an assistance
to them to have a spiritual guide who will take a
lively interest in them, pilot them through all diffi
culties, and watch over them with tender solicitude.
It takes them some time to find out that the most un
satisfactory of all counsellors are the timid, tonguetied, servile clergy of the tyrannical Church of Rome.
Exemplary Catholics, whom I have long known, have
frequently cautioned me against following priests’
advice in secular matters—against taking a servant
or governess upon their recommendation, and against
telling them one whit more than is absolutely neces
sary about anything. But my mother and myself had
to find out for ourselves how futile it is to expect the
�The li Confounded” Convert.
27
smallest help from them even upon matters spiri
tual. Reciprocity in the confessional there cannot
be, the priest is tongue-tied, he dares not say what he
thinks, he must pretend to be either surprised,
grieved, disappointed, or quite prepared to find that
his penitent has any doubts, misgivings, or difficulties,
about any article of faith. Not one of them ever
threw the least light upon anything I ever put before
them. They invariably wriggle out of everything, by
saying “ treat all thoughts which assail you upon
such matters as temptations, and whenever you are
inclined to doubt about any doctrine, make an act of
faith.” Once three hosts were put into my mouth,
possibly they had been kept in a damp place; they
separated in my mouth, and confusion arose in my
mind about these three wafers which, if given to three
communicants, would have been three Christs. I told
a priest that as in a crumb of the host there is sup
posed to be an entire man, I could not help imagining
that in three hosts there must be three Christs.
<c Temptations, my child, temptations ; he that receives
a crumb receives his Saviour; he that receives three
hosts receives his Saviour; temptations, my child 1 ”
I soon left off imparting my difficulties to them ; they
had but one answer, “ Temptations ! ”
Of course the priest dares not speak out boldly,
and say “ the whole affair is such a tissue of absurdi
ties and contradictions that if I were to permit myself
to dive deeply into it I should never say mass again.”
By telling the penitent that she is labouring under
a temptation they get rid of the difficulty, push the
matter on to the devil’s back, and tranquillise the
penitent, who is rather proud that she is allowed to
be tempted, “ counting it all joy,” and delighted to
find that what she really thought was a want of faith
is only a temptation. The strength and the weakness
of Rome lies in the Confessional. Of late the Church
has urged very frequent confession upon her children.
�28
The “Confounded” Convert.
Elderly Catholics assure me that in their young days
it was considered sufficient to confess before great
festivals only; and they regret the frequency of con
fession, “ which takes young people and servants away
from home duties and fills their heads with spiritual
direction, until they all fancy they are called to the
cloister.” Certain it is that frequent confession is
inculcated, and for many years I was rarely absent
more than a week from confession. I had a great
variety of Confessors, not from love of change, but
from force of circumstances. I made my first con
fession to a J esuit; it was, of course, a general
confession, embracing all my previous life. He told
me that I should never have to revert to anything I
had said ; that after he had given me Absolution the
past would be entirely blotted out, and that I was to
begin my career as a true child of the Church. Six
weeks later he heard my mother’s first confession, and
made similar remarks to her. This Jesuit was, upon
the whole, the best of my various Confessors ; for
though he had his surly moods, when he would send
me to the penny catechism, he was generally willing
to discuss a point with me as with an equal. Priests
love to dogmatise and to lay down the law, but this
old priest did neither, and I respected him. He con
sidered that an immense amount of time was wasted in
Farm Street by both priest and penitent in so-called
“ direction.” Let anyone go to Farm Street on a
Wednesday or Saturday afternoon and he will see
numbers of the fair sex patiently waiting for an hour
or more outside Father Clare’s Confessional. Those
ladies have nothing to do; they like a great fuss to
be made about themselves and their souls; when they
find a conciliating priest they make the most of him,
and frequently entertain for him an affection so
strong as to leave but little room in their hearts for
any other love. This may easily be the case, without
any of that undue familiarity so often unjustly im-
�The “ Confounded ” Concert.
29
puted to priests. Young gentlewomen would not be
attracted by such conduct; but, nevertheless, the
feeling entertained for the Confessor is not unfrequently strong enough to deter from matrimony, and
I have heard it adduced as a reason for the celibacy
among Catholic gentlewomen living in the world.
From what I have heard and noticed among my High
Church friends, I should surmise that their interviews
with their spiritual guides are of a far more emotional
and sensational character than similar meetings
among Roman Catholics. During the two years I
continued with the worthy old Jesuit, matters went
pretty smoothly; but even then confusion had arisen
in my mind respecting matter for Absolution, and the
expediency of such very frequent confession.
The confession of venial sins is not of obligation. I
rarely committed a venial sin with full deliberation,
for I was straining every nerve to keep my conscience
clear, so that no voluntary omission or commission
should mar the full effect of my frequent communions.
Sins of my past life I had been told not to bring
forward ; moreover, I had read that we are not called
upon to satisfy twice for the same sins.
Absolution is called “ the dripping of the Precious
Blood upon the head of the repentant sinner.” But in
my weekly confessions there were no intentional faults
to own, and, consequently, no contrition could be ex
cited ; what, then, became of the Precious Blood ? Once
I asked my old Jesuit if there was not a great deal of
Blood wasted in my case; for venial sin as to guilt
could be cancelled by contrition, and as to prmishment
by Holy Water, Mass, Communion, &c., without any
confession at all. He quoted David’s words, “Wash,
me yet more and more,” one washing is not enough
for me. Then he added “the Sacrament of Penance
has a preventive effect and gives great grace, great
power to resist temptation, &c.” I retained my own
opinion but followed his advice; kept going to con-
�50
The ^Confounded'''' Convert.
fession though I had nothing to confess, and always
received Absolution though there was no matter for
the Sacrament; it was, I thought, his affair—my duty
was to obey—but I meditated.
At the end of two years I went abroad. I was
taking off my dress preparatory to going to bed; my
German hostess and another lady were present.
“ Good God,” said the former to the latter, “ she
has no Scapular ! ” Startled at the solemnity of the
exclamation, and surprised that my English friends
had been so supine as to my eternal welfare, I
expressed my readiness to have one. They gave me
five bits of flimsy merino, stitched together, and told
me that I was to wear them with devotion, and never
take them off; so I kissed them now and then, not
exactly knowing how to exhibit devotion towards
such unsuggestive rags, which they called by the
imposing name of Our Lady’s Livery. “ You will
never go to Hell as long as you wear that,” I was
told. “But,” said I, “if I keep clear of mortal sin I
shall not go to Hell, even if I have no Scapular.”
“ You are just like all converts,” said my friend.
“You have no simplicity; you must try to become a
little child if you would be a true Catholic.”
I continued my weekly confessions of nothing, and
the foreign priest used now and then to ask me if I
would rather have Absolution, or merely his Benedic
tion ; for, said he, “ I have many penitents who, in
consequence of a lack of matter, are not absolved
each time they come to me.” I thought it very odd
of him to ask me such a question, as he ought to
know what to do; however, I chose the Benediction,
which seemed to answer just as well.
When I returned to England I found that my
respected old Confessor had been sent abroad, and
from that time my troubles increased. One day I
went to a Marist Father, and began as usual, “ Since
my last confession, &c.” “Say the Confiteor,” said
�The “Confounded” Convert.
3i
he. For four years I had been weekly to confession,
but had never said the Confiteor, which, however, in
the “Preparation for the Sacrament of Penance” is
appointed to be said. I did not know it in English,
but could say it in Latin from having heard it so
often in Church. I repeated it, and proceeded to tell
him that I could recall no voluntary fault since my
last confession, that I bad been remiss about several
duties, &c., &c. “Be ashamed,” said he; “humble
yourself very much that you have so little light that
you cannot discern your sins. You should hear the
roly nuns who come with deep compunction to con
fers what to their clear vision are grievous sins, but
which you are too blind to see.” “Is it my fault
thai I cannot see my sins ? ” said I, privately deter
mining never to go to him again. “ Pray, my poor
child, pray very much to know yourself, and think
of the saints who confessed every day and were never
at a loss for matter.”
After a similar confession, my old Jesuit would
have said, “ Thank God ! say three Gloria Patri for
your pemnce, make a good act of contrition for all
the sins ycu have ever committed, and I will give you
Absolution.” However, as Saint Liguori says there
are a great many “Religious” in Hell, it was not
surprising taat some of the nuns had more to say
than I had.
The following week I went for old sake’s sake to
Farm Street, vhere, at the Altar of the Sacred Heart,
I had been received into the Church. Another name
was over my old friend’s Confessional, but in I went
and down I knelt, saying the appointed words,
Bless me, Fathei, for I have sinned. “ Is the door
shut?” said the oriest, who possibly felt a draught.
I rose, and having ascertained that it was shut,
returned, and commenced the Confiteor, which I had
taken pains to learn in English. “ Never mind about
all that,” said the old gentleman, sharply, “ we have
�32
The “ Confounded ” Convert.
no time for that here; what have you done since
your last confession ?” Disinclined to open my door
after such an introduction, I made short work of it,
and retired to meditate.
We were then staying with a friend until our plans
were settled, and I was availing myself of the interval
to visit all the churches I had not seen. The follow
ing week I chose Sunday for my confession. A grand
mass and a fine sermon were expected at St. George’s.
I thought I would hit several birds with one stone,
and apply to a priest there of some renown, for a
solution of the Confiteor mystery. It seems I ought
not to have chosen Sunday, but I did not know th.it,
having often seen people confessing on that day.
A few workhouse women were waiting outside his
box, but with great courtesy they let me go in first.
“ Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” said I.
“ Why did you not come yesterday,” said be, and,
without giving me time to reply, went on, ‘‘ Well,
now, we have not done much to please our d«ar Lord
since our last confession; we have heard mass with
out attention or devotion; we have spoke* censori
ously, uncharitably, impatiently, and snappishly, have
we not?” “Yes, Father,” said I, with same mental
reservation. “Is there anything else?” “No,
Father.” “ Well, then, in future come on Saturday.
Say five Our Fathers for the Holy Souls make an act
of contrition, and I will give you Absolution.”
By this time I had had nearly enough of casual
Confessors—regular directors I had wholly aban
doned ; but all this time I was praying with great
perseverance for a good, zealous, sensible Confessor.
Before pronouncing Absolution the priest generally
gives utterance to sundry platitudes, called indeed
“ a point,” but which are for the most part destitute
of piquancy. He will draw your attention to some
approaching festival, to some popular devotion, or to
some flaw in your character which he thinks your
�The “Confounded" Convert.
33
confession has brought to light. On one occasion I
was told that self-love was the great barrier to holi
ness, that I must learn to hate myself with a good,
hearty hatred, and that then God would love me.
“ Do you understand me, my child ? ” “Yes, Father,”
said I; “ but when I have arrived at hating myself,
how shall I manage to love my neighbour as myself ?|”
“ Kot until yon have put away all self-love will you
have light to see the truths which the saints not only
knew but practised; you need humility—pray for it.”
Another time, while wondering what I should find,
to say in confession, it occurred to me that I had said
the Pope was a great fool for sending the Golden
Rose to Queen Isabella. Here were two faults';
moreover, I had given utterance to this forcible
expression in the presence of others, and thereby
given scandal. Rather glad to have something defi
nite to say, I accused myself of censuring the conduct
of my superior, and . • . but before I could proceed
the priest, to my amazement, exclaimed, “ Why that
is the very thing I am always doing; I cannot con
ceive why the archbishop should fix upon me to hear
a parcel of nuns’ confessions; I have to take two
omnibuses besides a long walk, and it costs me a
shilling a time ; but I do not mean to go again, I can
tell him ! ” I did not finish my confession, but had a
cosy chat with this honest fellow, and was sorry to
hear he was not resident in England. He seemed to
have settled down into a state of chronic indignation,
with which I thoroughly sympathised.
About this time I went to call upon a friend who had
recently joined the Church. She looked very red and
hot. The fender was full of the remains of burnt paper,
and there was an oppressive smell of scorched leather
in the room. Her Irish Confessor, hearing that she
continued using her Protestant Bible, commanded her
to burn it, with all other Protestant religious books,
and I was just in time to see the remains of her
�34
The “Confounded” Convert.
heretical library smouldering in the fire-place. As I
always used, and infinitely preferred, the Protestant
version of the Bible, that scene made an impression.
Subsequently, when settled with a regular Confessor,
I asked him whether there was any objection to my
reading the Protestant translation. “ Certainly not,”
was his answer, “ you may use any translation you
like; the Protestant one is more flowing.” However,
I was to have a few more experiences before I met
with a suitable Confessor, and, meantime, I turned
my attention towards some new clothes, and engaged
a surgeon’s daughter, who had seen better days, to
come and work for me. She was much interested in
religious matters.
. “ It is a great blessing,” said she, “ that priests
differ so much; it seems very odd that they do differ,
if Almighty God really is behind the scenes ; but it is
a great comfort, for if they all agreed I, for one,
should never get Absolution. The other day my
Confessor chalked out a course of action I thought
would injure my interests, so I would not obey him,
and he refused Absolution. I was very anxious to go
to Communion the next day, so I took a long walk in
the rain, and told my old Confessor all about it. He
gave me Absolution at once, and said I was a great
fool for submitting any secular matter to a priest.”
A still more flagrant case came under my notice.
When Cardinal Manning’s letter appeared in the
papers pronouncing it sacrilege to receive the Sacra
ments without firmly believing the dogmas of the
Infallibility and Immaculate Conception, my mother
showed symptoms of rebellion, but went dutifully to
her Carmelite Confessor, and told him candidly that
she could not assent to the Infallibility. “ Then, my
child,” said he, “I cannot give you Absolution; I am
not permitted to do so.” “ But, surely,1’ said she,
“ you would not have me say I believe what I do not
believe ? ”
�The “Confounded” Convert.
35
“ On the contrary, I admire your frankness, but am
obliged to refuse you Absolution,” said he.
Perplexed and uneasy, my mother then said she
would try to digest the unwelcome dogma, upon
which the Carmelite relented, and after an unusually
long exhortation gave her Absolution. But such
an Absolution by no means satisfied my mother.
She determined to submit the case to a Jesuit at
Parm Street, under whose spiritual direction she
had long been, though during our stay in Kensing
ton she frequented the Carmelites for convenience
sake.
“ I have not come to confession,” said she. “ I
cannot get Absolution because I do not believe in
Papal Infallibility.” “ Oh, my dear child,” said the
genial Jesuit, <£ you and I perfectly understand each
other. Infallibility, you know, only regards faith and
morals; make your confession with a quiet mind, and
I will give you Absolution directly.” My mother,
however, insisted that she was not entitled to it, and
went away strengthened in her opposition to the
arbitrary dogma of Infallibility, and convinced more
than ever of the futility, and, in her case, of the
decidedly injurious effects of frequent confession.
The Carmelite was no doubt right—that is to say,
he began well; but he ought to have remained firm,
and instead of giving Absolution he should have told
my mother to go away, and be damned. “ Let him
be anathema,” says the Church; “ I will give you
Absolution directly,” says the Jesuit. And where
was the Holy Ghost all this time ? with the Cardinal,
the Carmelite, or the Jesuit ? Perhaps He was on a
visit to those heavenly-minded milk-women who had
“ more knowledge of God’s ways than those who
thought themselves to be somewhat.”
About this time we were intimate with an excellent
foreign priest, who frequently passed a few hours
with us for the purpose of perfecting himself in
�36
•
The “Confounded” Convert.
English. He was quite opposed to weekly confession
in the case of those who led a life of such cloistral
monotony as did we. He thought, and we fully
agreed with him, that the affair was likely to become
merely mechanical, and was injudicious, to say the
least of it. Some weeks passed before I felt inclined
to confess again. I did not retrograde; I did not
lose my fervour; I did not miss the sacrament in the
least. I was surrounded by those who never let a
week go by without a visit to the priest. They were
not edifying specimens of the fruits of the system.
Catholic parents have expressed their amazement to
me that Protestants, without one half the “means of
grace” enjoyed by Catholics, behave so much better.
Far be it from me to say that frequent confession
never does good. I can only say that I was continu
ally distressed to see how extremely remiss about
their most obvious duties were those whose concern
for their spiritual welfare led them to distant Con
fessors, and whose examination of conscience occupied
a great portion of their time every week. Priests
are, I have reason to suspect, very indifferent as to
what the penitent does or leaves undone. The great
point with them is that you should put in an appear
ance regularly at Mass, show at Benediction, and be
seen before the Blessed Sacrament. Unlike their
Master, they prefer that your prayers should be in
public-1—in their Church, and during devotions in
which they play a prominent part. This may proceed
from their child-like simplicity. An indifferent peni
tent, who frequents the public services of the Church,
would, I believe, be more favourably viewed by the
clergy than even a saintly milk-woman who confined
her devotions to the cow-house.
This manifest absence of the practical element
among those always talking of Father This and Father
That, this lamentable lack of personal piety among
those always handling holy things, feeding upon
�The “Confounded'1' Convert.
1
37
Christ and being washed in his blood, drove a zealous
friend of mine out of the Church. “ I am sadly
afraid,” wrote she, “ that even well-meaning Catholics
prefer religion to morality. The Church seems every
thing ; it does me no good, and I have left it for
ever.”
At length I went to confession once more, after six
weeks’ absence. “Name a sin of your past life,” said
the Redemptorist, “ that I may give you Absolution.”
Here was something quite new. I had been told
never to revert to past sins; I had been absolved
hundreds of times without adding a sin of my past
life, though, as the reader knows, I had wondered
what the Precious Blood fell upon, and what grace
could accompany the recital of involuntary venial
faults for which I could not feel contrition. Suddenly
called upon to name an old sin, I took the first which
suggested itself, and said I had stolen a red herring,
with full deliberation, when I was twelve years old.
I have since ascertained that the value of the thing
stolen must be five shillings to constitute a mortal
sin, so that I was not much nearer the mark with my
poor red herring. It was a venial sin, and restitution
was required under pain of loss of grace for voluntary
venial sin; however, I got Absolution, after explain
ing that I could not trace the owner of the herring.
I tried another Redemptorist, and when he de
manded a sin of my past life, said, “ I am a convert.”
“ Then name a mortal sin since your conversion,” per
sisted he. “ I am unable to see ”—I had used that
form of expression ever since the Marist had rebuked
me for blindness—“ any mortal sin since I was
received,” said I. That scrupulous man heaved a
deep sigh, but, begging me to be very sorry indeed
for all my sins, absolved me inaudibly.
I had had many misgivings, but now felt quite sure
that the Precious Blood could be fully absorbed by
mortal sin only. However, I had recourse to a priest
�38
The “Confounded” Convert.
said to be a profound theologian. “ You must never
allow a priest to give you Absolution without suffi
cient matter,” said he; “ and if there be no matter,
you are always to name a former sin—you may bring
forward the same thing every week if you like.”
‘■'How can a sin once confessed, forgiven, and
atoned for, serve over and over again ?” said I. “ Is
it not very much like doubting the efficacy of the
Precious Blood, which washed it effectually away
the first time ? ”
“ The Ghurch allows it,” said he, “ and we may be
sure it is all right.” He proceeded to tell me that a
difference of opinion exists in the Church about Bap
tism, some theologians accepting and some contesting
the validity of heretical baptism. Those priests who
were so careful to ask for a sin of my past life were
those who believed I had been properly baptised in
infancy. Those who gave Absolution without allu
sion to the past believed that my second baptism in
the Roman Catholic Church was alone valid, and
that therefore I had only to look back as far as that
for my mortal sins. All this having been fully
explained to me, the next thing to be done was to
find a priest who required neither the Confiteor,
which I did not like—though it seems it ought to be
said—nor a sin of my past life, for which I could not
keep renewing the heart-breaking sorrow implied by
contrition. Before succeeding, two or three other
matters came under my notice which impressed me
very unfavourably, and once more drew my attention
towards that blessed Martin, and considerably in
creased my devotion to him. I went to call upon the
old lady who had given me the “very perfect” Agnus
Dei, and there I met a lady of Spanish extraction.
Hearing that I was a convert she expressed amaze
ment, saying, “Why I, who have always been brought
up in the Church, do not believe one half she teaches.
Por instance, I do not believe one word about Abso-
�The “Confounded” Convert.
39
lution, and my Confessor knows it. T wonder he
gives me Absolution ! I should not dare to do so if
I were a priest.” “ But why do you go if you have
no faith?” asked I. “Well,” said she, “it is the
force of habit; before communion it is usual to con
fess. I wish I had more faith. I always tell the priest
I do not believe; if he likes to absolve me after that,
it is his affair.” I found that her confessor was the
same genial Jesuit who had so indulgently proposed
to absolve my doubting mother. The old lady did
not like the turn the conversation had taken. She
felt how strange it must sound to a convert’s ears;
so, in the amiable hope of making matters better, she
made them worse by interrupting with “ I should
like to have three masses said for my poor dear niece.
I have three said every year, but really five shillings
is a great deal to give for a mass. I used to send
over to Trance and get them said for a franc apiece,
but the archbishop has put a stop to that, and makes
us pav five shillings and have them said in England.”
With that absence of simplicity for which I had
frequently been reproached, I asked how it was that
Christ could be had cheaper on the Continent, and
was told that there were more priests there, and that
“everything was cheaper,” Christ, of course, included.
My knowledge of human nature—from which, alas I
sacerdotal nature is no departure—inclined me to the
opinion that the five-shilling rule was often violated,
and, anxious to be of use to the old lady, I sought
and found a priest who, for her and for other friends
of mine, said mass for half-a-crown. This matter
being now settled to everybody’s satisfaction, except
mine, I determined to talk it over with an intelligent
Catholic then devoted to the Church, but now a free
thinker.
He said, “ If you think out all these things you
will certainly lose your faith; it does not do to dive
deeply into every little thing. I have never paid a
�4o
The “Confounded” Convert.
priest for saying mass; the subject is unpleasant to
me in a high degree. The priest must say his mass,
so that we are not exactly paying for the Holy Sacri
fice, but for its application by force of the priest’s
intention to our case. The doctrine of the priest’s
intention is the weakest part of the whole system;
there is no certainty about anything in the Church of
Rome, for that doctrine invalidates Ordination, Abso
lution, Consecration, and, in short, everything. Be
lieve me, it is by not thinking that you will retain
your respect for Rome. The laity on the Continent
never trouble themselves about these matters.
When they begin to think the clergy will begin to
tremble.”
1 felt he was right. However, I went on for a few
months with an excellent, kind-hearted priest, to
whom I had been recommended, and all went pretty
well until, as in my mother’s case, the Cardinal’s
letter drove me, without one minute’s delay, out of
Rome.
In vain my Confessor assured me that the letter
was “ not meant” for me; my impression was that it
was intended for all who read it. I had made some
progress in the simplicity so much insisted on by
Rome, and was actually simple enough to think that
the Cardinal said what he meant, and meant what
he said, so I took him at his word, and left that
most complicated apparatus for saving men’s souls,
called
The Infallible Church.
PRINTED BY C. AV. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
�
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Title
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The "confounded" convert
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 40 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Printed by C.W. Reynell, Little Pulteney Street, London.
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Thomas Scott
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1876
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CT190
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Catholic Church
Catholic Church
Catholic Converts
Conversion-Catholic Church
Conway Tracts
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C(
FIVE LETTERS
ON A
CONVERSION TO ROMAN CATHOLICISM
BY
ROBERT RODOLPH SUFFIELD.
PUBLISHED BY THOMAS SCOTT,
NO. 11, THE TERRACE, FARQUHAR ROAD,
UPPER NORWOOD, LONDON, S.E.
Price Threepence.
��ON
A
CONVERSION
TO
ROMAN
CATHOLICISM.
Alfred Villa, 2 Parson’s Mead,
Croydon, Surrey.
My Dear Sir,—Your niece is, with the best inten
tions, preparing for herself an almost irreparable
calamity. For a brief period, she can, without selfreproach, use those powers of reason and conscience
given to her by God, to be cultivated—not abrogated.
It would be a crime to destroy our own natural limbs,
our own natural eyes, and replace them with the
limbs of another or the docile eyes of a machine. But
it is also a crime (though perpetrated without malice)
to substitute for our individual reason, the conscience
and will of another. From the moment she has sworn
the soul’s servitude to an Italian nobleman, and to any
English or foreign gentleman appointed to represent
him in the confessional, she will deem herself bound
not to think “ what is right ? ” but to ask another,
“ Tell me what is right and I will be your slave and
do it, and if my thought or conscience suggest to me
that you are mistaken, I swear to banish such sugges
tions from my mind as a temptation ? ” She will reply,
“1 do not intend submitting to these men as men, but
as the chosen and infallible representatives and mouth
pieces of God.” Then to elect that infallibility, she
must use her own fallibility. Thus, the result can
�6
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
never (logically) be to her more infallible than the
result of her own fallible investigations, but it will
become all that the man claiming that infallibility
chooses to make it, for that man will use his absolute
and irresponsible authority to forbid his mental and
moral slave from ever even interiorly questioning his
assumptions. Obeying an ex-officer, a nobleman’s
son, an Italian who received a very meagre education,
who is aged, benevolent, infirm, wayward, honest,
obstinate, and profoundly self-conscious that he is the
inspired representative and infallible vicegerent of the
god of the universe, your niece will imagine that she
is performing an heroic act, in prostrating before a
foreigner she has never seen, the conscience, the re
sponsibility, the judgment imparted to her by God.
She will reply “ God tells me thus to cast my mental
and moral nature at the feet of a stranger.” Where ?
How ? When ? Those are the tremendous questions
she is now preparing to solve. That investigation
must indeed be lengthened and profound, seeing how
stupendous, how unnatural is the result. A miracle of
miracles, indeed, is needed, to set aside the personal
responsibilities proclaimed by the creation of God.
Your niece is preparing to consign to eternal torture
every individual who does not recognise a Roman
nobleman as the infallible governor of mankind:
who does not accept as essential to eternal sal
vation, a dogma, which was an open question
amongst Roman Catholics until the last three
years. She is preparing to renounce the Universal
Father and to substitute for worship the God of a
privileged sect, who will appear on the altar like a
small biscuit. She is preparing to renounce the
brotherhood of mankind, to seek admission into a sect
anathematizing—not only her parents and friends, but
millions and millions of mankind. Profound, indeed,
must be the investigations, certain the convictions
which can enable her thus, innocently, to blaspheme
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
7
Gocl’s goodness, to limit His mercy, and to anathema
tize His children.
When I was a Roman Catholic I often discussed
with fervent and believing Roman Catholic priests, a
fact we all noticed, namely—that converts invariably
deteriorated—either mentally or morally ; we puzzled
ourselves over the solution. I am inclined to think
the solution is this—Converts are very sincere and
earnest; they work out the system thoroughly and
practically, and thus reap its gravest disadvantages.
For a few years your niece will be very fervent, very
eccentric, and very happy. Then if her former better
human nature begins to arise again, she will sadly feel
that she has made a mistake. She will probably
hardly dare, thoroughly, to own it to herself
and never to others, but will bear it as a silent
sorrow to her grave. She will say strong bitter
things against heretics, and wear scapulars, and confer
for hours with a “ director,” but a universal scepticism
will have possessed her heart—wearied, disappoint
ed, and fearful. I have witnessed this a thousand
times. She is worshipping a vision of beauty which
only exists in her imagination ; like many other gentle
and good souls, she will cling to the illusion and fancy
it a reality. Should she enter the Roman sect, I
could almost wish that the illusion should endure to
the end ; otherwise, when the disenchantment comes,
and she, awakening to the reality, sees not a vision of
beauty, a heavenly Jerusalem on earth, but an ecclesi
astical polity, striving by ignoble means for the
mastery j sickened, saddened, and deceived, she will
wish she had never been born.
You ask me what books would help her. The
question is to me a difficult one. I have read much
in defence of the Roman Catholic dogmas, but very
little on the other side. There are works which I
could commend for many facts and arguments, but
■disfigured by calumnious attacks upon the Roman
�8
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
Catholic clergy and the Roman Catholic nuns, and
by misapprehensions as to some doctrines. Moreover,
the present Roman Catholic Church is only three years
old, and the antagonistic literature is therefore limited.
The controversy is limited now to the infallibility of
the Pope. If the Vatican dogma be accepted, all the
rest must follow. Upon that subject I might name
“ The Pope and the Council, by Janus.”—“ Papal
Infallibility and Persecution; ” a small brochure (Mac
millan, 1870), “ The Roman Catholic not the one true
religion ” (Triibner), and Whately’s “ Errors of
Romanism ” and “ Cautions for the Times,”
Blanco White’s works are invaluable, but unfortun
ately difficult to obtain ; they ought to be reprinted.
I name authors who assume as divinely authoritative
the Canonical Scriptures, and who believe that in our
little world the God of the Universe became an infant
and died; but I consider that she ought to study
deeper, and to ask herself “ Is the Bible infallible ? ”
“ Did God become a baby ? ” “Did God die?” In such
inquiries she would be helped by the works of FrancisNewman, Greg, Martineau, Hennell, Voysey, Vance
Smith, and Thomas Scott of Norwood.
Surely she ought to pause and examine before com
mitting herself to a position from which she would
not easily recede. She will become attached to priests
and nuns, and Roman Catholics, for she will find them,
in England and Ireland—kind, gentle, and affection
ate ; just the characters she would the least wish towound ; not in reality, more good than others, but, in
some respects, perhaps to her, more attractive. If I
exaggerate the virtues of English and Irish Roman
Catholics, you will pardon the partialities of affection,,
of gratitude, and of memory.
The more I love them, the more do I lament that
terrific dogma which compels them to reply to that
love with an anathema. These words of warning you
may use as you like—but I am not hopeful—many
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
9
are the slaves of the imagination, and they offer
themselves as holocausts to an illusion.—-Yours very
sincerely,
Robert Rodolph Sufeield.
Second Letter.
It is probable that your niece has made up her
mind to become a Roman Catholic; in that case, I
do not think that the most cogent arguments would
affect her. She has committed herself to a corpse,
and her whole existence will be occupied in an unceas
ing effort to galvanise it into life, and dreaming amidst
illusions to persuade herself that they are realities.
Once let a person with blinded eyes grasp a leader,t
and be persuaded that it would be criminal to doubt
his infallibility, the docile slave “knows” that all
arguments and facts opposed to his claims are wrong,
and only asks, “What are the best replies?”—and
there are plenty of replies—replies sufficiently plausible
to satisfy those who are determined to be convinced ;
sufficiently skilful, contradictory, and refined to em
barrass those who have good sense, an honest heart,
£nd not much learning.
All persons have their special moral weaknesses.
Men and women whose minds have been either
effeminated by the “nothingness” of what is with
cruel sarcasm called “ good society,” or at once wearied
and weakened in futile search after that absolute
certainty which all the sects insist on declaring to be
■essential for “ salvation,” plunge into the Roman
Church, much as the fevered forlorn will plunge into
the dark flowing river—one leap, and it is all over.
During the leap, what can you do ? After the leap,
the corpse floats along with the current; if eddies of
foam occasionally are seen, it is because there is still
a remnant of life, and amidst the pleasantly benumb
ing flood, the victim moves on restlessly to death.
�io
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
No arguments can dispel a moral weakness which all
the churches have conspired to create, and to enforce
by creeds. All her life she has been praying against
“ heresy,” as if it were a foul moral crime, and profess
ing opinions over and over again, as if so to do were
the essential virtue. Correct opinions on abstruse and
intangible questions have been done up into amulets,,
which hung in chains over her mind as an Anglican ;—
she suddenly has been startled by perceiving that there
are difficulties she cannot solve;—morality would require
her to think—weakness makes it easier to submit
—and she submits to the most reckless asserter. A
mind weakened finds comfort in yielding to whatever is
the most positive. The Roman Church has no doubts,
can answer everything, and though the answers con
tain absolute contradictions, that is all so much the
better, because ‘it is all a mystery.’ Moreover, the mind
cannot easily embrace in its vision opposing difficul
ties, when each difficulty aggregates around a dogma,
set off with all the paraphernalia of poetry, legend,
and tradition.
In the Church of England she had a cultured and
zealous priesthood, confessors, absolution, sacraments,
baptismal regeneration, sodalities, creeds, superstitions,
prayers, anathemas against sectaries, apostolic succes
sion, submission enjoined to ecclesiastical authority—
she is frightened lest there should be a flaw in some
of these, so she resolves to seek them in the church
whence they flowed into the Church of England. If
we say to her, “ Perhaps there is a flaw in the Roman
Church,” she replies, “ Oh, but there must be certainty
and security somewhere, and where, if not in
Rome ? ” She is probably too much imbued with anglican orthodoxy to be able to accept the only reply,
“ There is not absolute certainty anywhere, but there
is security everywhere to the seeker who never utters
or acts a conscious lie in the name of religion.”
Nevertheless she may possibly be open to a warn-
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
11
ing; and you may, as you desire it, use my name in
conveying to her the following :—
My statements on this subject cannot be treated as
devoid of authority. For twenty years I was apos
tolic missionary, and discharged duties not unim
portant in many parts of England, Ireland, Scot
land, and France. I published a work (“ The
Crown of Jesus,”) which obtained the widest cir
culation, was publicly commended by all the arch
bishops, and received the papal blessing. I left
the Roman Catholic Church on the day on which
the Papal Infallibility was proclaimed. I never in
curred, even in the smallest matter, the censure of any
ecclesiastical super'or. I never even had a quarrel
with any Roman Catholic lay or ecclesiastic. There
fore I have none of the bi tterness which sometimes is
found as the result of con flict. I have the most per
fect and intimate acquaintance with all the minutest
workings of the system in all departments of the
Roman Church. All who have known me in public
or in private during the last three years, can testify
to the affectionate kindness of my feelings and speech
as -to all the Roman Catholics whom I have known at
any period of my life. From my father, who, like
all his predecessors and relatives, belonged to the
Roman Catholic Church, into which I was received
by lay baptism in infancy, I obtained those feelings of
respect and sympathy towards the old religion which
brought me to its sacraments in the midst of my uni
versity career. My father had privately ceased to be
lieve in any orthodox creed, and though during twothirds of his life he never practised the Roman Catholic
religion, he never opposed it. Sharing the liberal ideas
then so common amongst educated Romanists, he re
garded the Church of England as almost identical with
the Roman Catholic Church, but more beneficial in its
influence, less dangerous, less logical, less arrogant,
�12
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
less consistent, more enlightened. His remembrance
of the first French Revolution retained him in a con
servatism at once religious and political, and family
traditions flung around Catholicism a halo of poetry,
and inspired, even to a sceptic, a chivalric affection
like that felt by Royalists towards the Pretender.
Reared thus amidst a union of Scepticism, Conservat
ism, Catholicism, and Anglicanism, and surrounded by
characters of singular beauty, just at the period when
Anglicanism was extolling Romanism, and returning
to it as a child to its mother, I gave myself to the
priestly life with an enthusiastic and undivided alle
giance. Unable to prove to my satisfaction any of
the dogmas of orthodoxy, I accepted them all “ on
the authority of the Church.” The “ authority of the
Church” I accepted because a revelation without a
distinct interpreter could be no revelation at all, and
taking the premise for granted, there was no alternative
for a Christian but to acknowledge either the Roman
Church or the Greek Church; but the Greek did not
claim a living infallibility. At that time the “ autho
rity of the Church” was left undefined—a faithful
Roman Catholic could change his stand-point accord
ing to the exigencies of historic or logical difficulties;
at one time he could mentally meet a difficulty by
remembering that the personal infallibility of the
Pope had never been defined; at another time he
could allow to the system its full logical development,
and deem the papal infallibility true, though modified
by restrictions mentally invented to meet difficulties
as they arose. Thus argumentatively the “ authority
of the Church” rested on its necessity, if dogmas be
essential. The Roman Church presented the creden
tials of supplying that condition now; and having
supplied it in times past, it possessed the logic of
success, a success by no means adequate to its claims,
but the success of having alone lived through genera
tions to realise the idea of a wide-spread theocracy.
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
13
Under that vague conception of “authority” vested in
a divine society, many could have died peacefully
without a doubt. But the present Pope was deter
mined to accomplish in his reign the wildest dreams
of mediaeval ambition. Encyclicals were issued to
anathematise liberty of conscience, the liberty of the
press, the liberty of the state, the liberty of science,
the liberty of association, the liberty of the episcopate;
to denounce civilisation, freedom, progress, and inves
tigation ; the world was to be divided between slaves
and the accursed. Honest men began to say the
Pope cannot be infallible, for these teachings are
obviously immoral, they renew in precept the very
enormities which we have all our life long been
indignantly repudiating. If these decrees are to be
deemed infallible, no Boman Catholic can without
hypocrisy engage in political life, or demand a single
political liberty. Then a few prelates like Dr Man
ning, urged on by laymen like Dr Ward and M.
Veuillot, and by a section of the Jesuits, flung them
selves into the papal schemes, and began to urge
on the definition of Papal Infallibility ; thus for two
or three years raged a domestic controversy which
touched the very foundation of the Roman Catholic
system, viz., “ Where does the infallibility exist 1”
The most learned Romanists proved that the con
templated dogma of papal infallibility was utterly
opposed to Scripture, reason, history, morality, reli
gion.. The infallibilists (or Neo-Catholics) argued
that it was the only logical development, and that it
obviously existed nowhere else. During this contro
versy doubts arose in numerous minds. Most Roman
Catholics determined to refuse to think, they drove
away doubts by the violence of their denunciations
and the loudness of their professions. Many priests
and laymen (to my certain knowledge) lost all faith,
but bound to the Church by the ties of interest,
affection, family, and pride, have remained in it, often
�14
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
siding with the bitter outward profession of the party
of non-thought. Several of the learned refusing to
abdicate reason, virtue, and history, yet clinging to
sacramental and traditional Christianity, being men
of courage and sincerity, renounced papal allegiance,
and became “ Old Catholics.” Some (of whom I was
one) saw every atom of the fabric crumble away on
its foundation of mist. Such, from the religion of a
sect girding itself for the persecution and debasement
of humanity, passed, at first sadly (how sadly few can
tell), out of the associations of the past, into the reli
gion of the universe, the theism which, if undefined,
embraces all.
When the fearful interior conflict had ended, and
I found myself no longer a slave to Pope, bishop, supe
rior, confessor, and a sectarian God, it still seemed to
me almost wrong to think or to act independently.
It was only by degrees that I could realise the degrad
ing, soul-subduing bondage from which I had been
delivered; then great joy and peace possessed me, as
I felt myself rise from slave into man. Most docile
Roman Catholics are happy whilst they believe; slaves
are happy under prudent masters, but it is a happi
ness which degrades master and slave. This personal
history will explain the mixture of opposing feelings
with which I touch the Roman Catholic question, viz.,
tenderness, gratitude, and love towards the Roman
Catholics I have personally known, and heard of in
my family, along with an intense dislike and dread of
the system of Neo-Catholicism which is now identified
with Vatican Infallibility. Your niece, like many
others, has mistaken for palliation of the system, my
homage of affection rendered to persons who conscien
tiously are its victims. Moreover, I have no sympathy
with the vulgar, ignorant calumnies against Roman
Catholics, and therefore, even in the first sermon I
preached in London as a Unitarian or Theist, in a
Unitarian Chapel, hearing that some intended to come
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
15
expecting to hear an anti-Romanist oration, I selected
for my subject, a practice familiar to Roman Catholics
and many other religionists, but rejected by most Pro
testants. Thus, whilst I systematically deprived my
secession of every feature which could conciliate vul
gar support, I felt that I reserved to myself that power
which in the end belongs to those who, though they
occasionally with calmness warn, yet more frequently
■extenuate, and never calumniate.
Third Letter.
The English Romanism of to-day differs from that
•of Gother, Charles Butler, and Lingard, as much as
Pusey differs from Tillotson. The declarations made
by the Vicars Apostolic whereby Roman Catholic
emancipation was obtained, are now “ damnable
heresies.” For the modern Vatican religion teaches
that the Pope is, and always has been, infallible
whenever he in his own mind means to speak or
write authoritatively as Bishop of Rome and Vicar of
Christ. That decree elevates all former bulls, encycli
cals, pastorals, and pontifical teachings into inspired
and infallible documents. The Pope is by divine right
supreme (in all matters he deems important) over all
potentates and all individuals. He is an irresponsible
universal dictator. A Roman Catholic has to believe
with interior assent not only every statement in the
Old and New Testament and in the apocrypha, but
also everything in the bullarium. Almost every in
famy and absurdity possible has at some time or
other been thus proclaimed. Besides the dead weight
of the past, nothing remains for the future but a
leaden despotism. At any moment the Pope may,
at the instigation of an ignorant Italian monsignore,
send a telegram or letter which he may intend to be
official (ex Cathedra)—that document may contradict
�16
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
science, fact, and the whole universe of God, but it
must be not only obeyed, but believed—intentionally
to doubt it would entail an eternal hell. Volumesare already filled with “ condemned propositions ”—
all these are now divine condemnations, and mercy,
justice, and toleration, will be found therein accursed.
To ordinary Roman Catholics, the papal authority
is publicly exercised through the Bishop, and privately
through the Confessor. If an ecclesiastical order is
given, and to a grave degree violated, it is a mortal
sin, such as excludes from heaven unless absolution has
been given to the penitent promising never to repeat
the disobedience. These orders regard innumerable
matters of ordinary secular, domestic, political, social,
educational, commercial, scientific, and social life—in
short everything a person cares about. Books, news
papers, societies, amusements, soldiers, magistrates,
peace, war, parents, husband and wife, children,
—all are minutely legislated for. It is a mortal sin
in any matter to obey the state, or parent, or con
science, in defiance of the Pope. Therefore all such
matters have to be treated of in the confessional, and
settled there.
However, still there remain a few things at the
choice of this papal slave. There is a machinery to
enslave even that feeble remnant of personal re
sponsibility. The system of the Jesuits has now
permeated the Roman Catholic Church, and operates
through the Bishops quite as much as through the
“ Society? Tl*e Jesuits annihilate the individual by
“'direction.” During the last few years they have
rapidly spread the system of direction throughout
this country, and the Anglicans are extensively
adopting it.
The theory of direction is this—besides the con
fession of sins—it is highly pleasing to God to ask
the advice of the confessor on all the minutest details
of life,—individual, domestic, political:—the direction
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
of the confessor is not infallible, “ but his very errors
will be overruled to the spiritual benefit of the docile
penitent.” Jesuit directors chiefly exercise their skill
on people of the higher and middle classes, or on
interesting penitents, but, to the disgust of many of
the older clergy and laity, this odious system of
espionage and arbitrary interference is rapidly per
vading all the confessionals. Frequently have I heard
good and experienced Priests deplore the fatal results—the character rendered morbid and weak, cast at the
feet of a man the least qualified to guide—-for it is
notorious that the Priests who chiefly strive to become
“ directors ” are the most self-sufficient, narrow, con
ceited, and egotistic, though under a mark of sanctity
which deceives no one more than themselves.
On incidental occasions the confessional has rendered
a service, but I fully concur in the conviction ex
pressed by several of the most thoughtful, excellent,
and believing Priests, that very frequent confession
is invariably an evil. Continually are Priests pain
fully puzzled by noticing that people never improve
by confession—that those who do the least required by
the ecclesiastical law, are nearly always superior in
character to those who do the most.
Knowing, as I do, the excellent intentions of most
of the priests and most of the lay people practising
that rite—knowing the many sacrifices entailed for
tis accomplishment—I do not make these remarks
with pleasure, but I tear them from my memory, with
grief of heart, in answer to your inquiries.
Fourth Letter.
Your niece says that whether the Eoman Catholic
religion be true or not, anyhow it is good for her—
of course it is right for her to do whatever she honestly
and thoughtfully deems right. Individual rectitude
�18
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
depends on conscientious intention. In such cases
intentions are sometimes mixed and vague. Although
not agreeing with you in blaming the priests. I cannot
accept the statement as worded by your niece.
In the end, an illusion cannot be the best for any
sane person. The question is whether certain state
ments are true or not. If true, we ought all of us
to embrace them. If false, it is morally wrong knowingly to embrace or to encourage them.—it is injurious
to do so ignorantly,—e.g., Was Peter Pope at
Rome when Paul wrote to the Romans without
naming him? Was Peter Pope when Paul opposed
him?
Does ecclesiastical history show us the
Bishops of Rome claiming the infallible powers now
claimed by Pius IX? All the modern Roman Catho
lic religion rests on papal infallibility. What are the
overwhelming proofs to substantiate a dogma dis
believed by the most learned Roman Catholics only
three years since? Such matters do not rest on
internal consciousness, but on history. Can it be
God’s intention that all religion should rest upon a
complicated historical investigation ? Again, all past
papal teachings are now infallible, therefore the con
demnation of Copernicus and Galileo, should be ap
proved. The devout Roman Catholic ought to believe
that the sun moves round the earth, the earth being
stationary and flat.
Again, all the past decrees about purgatory, indul
gence, and the scapulary now bind as articles of faith.
Therefore any one who can contrive to die wearing
two bits of blessed brown cloth cannot go to hell,
and will be saved from purgatory by the Virgin Mary
on the Saturday after death. All miracles and visions
approved by the Pope, now are articles of Christian
Faith. These things are either facts or fables. Dr
Manning sometime after the death of his wife became
a Roman Catholic; almost immediately he was or
dained a Roman Catholic Priest, then he went to
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
19
begin the study of Theology at Rome. He main
tained the papal claims and became archbishop; a
young man kneels before him, gets his head touched
by him, and a little oil rubbed on his hand, whilst a
few words are muttered. The next morning that
young man takes hold of a little biscuit and a glass
of sherry, and when he has whispered four words over
these, the biscuit becomes a man, and the glass of
sherry becomes a man—any person must go to hell
for ever who should in his mind fail in his belief that
all the flesh, blood, and limbs of Jesus as man are in
each, as also his human soul, and his divinity—should
any crumbs drop from this divine man, who looks,
feels, tastes, like baked bread—each such crumb
contains the hands, feet, and entire body of that
same man.
A priest had taken this “ sacrament ” in a pyx in
a little bag in his waistcoat pocket to give it to a sick
person [for a Roman Catholic has to believe that he
eats a man, and swallows his God]; the sick person
died without the sacraments necessary for salva
tion, because the priest had on his way called on a
friend to fix a boating trip. The priest was grieved,
but as the man was dead, he went his boating trip,
having the “host” in his pocket—a shower of rain
came on, and the water got into the pyx in which
Jesus Christ was. The priest on his arrival at the
house, opened the pyx and could not decide whether
what he saw was Jesus Christ or dough—if the ap
pearance of bread remained, then it was Jesus Christ
-—if the appearance was that of dough, then Jesus
Christ was not there. Such is the theology binding
on all. The question is, are such things revealed
truths? if so, how tremendous must be the evidence
which can alone justify our accepting such statements
without the immorality of hypocrisy or conscious
illusion. What evidence did the Apostles adduce
that they possessed such powers ? Did they ever
�20
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
claim, such powers ? Priests now only claim them by
a virtue handed down to them by the rite of ordina
tion. How would the evidence satisfy an English
court of law ?
When a Roman Catholic has swallowed the host,
he has within his stomach the limbs, feet, hands,
heart, blood of Jesus—the identical human body
which was once on the cross—that body continues
within his body as long as the qualities and appear
ances of bread remain, z'.e. until it is decomposed. The
appearances of bread are’ merely present in the host
miraculously. Surely such transcendent miracles ought
to have been propounded distinctly by Jesus and the
early disciples, if truly believed by them.
Fifth Letter.
Roman Catholics are strictly forbidden to dwell'on
any thought likely to produce doubts ;—but for that
crushing of the mind, no one could live in such un
ceasing uncertainty. Uncertainty accompanies every
act of his religious life, from its commencement to its
close. Nothing in his religion is valid unless the
minister of the sacrament means the miracle—the
outward act is not enough. Unless the Pope means
to speak officially, his utterances are not infallible;
his saying that he means it is not sufficient, he must
mean it; but the outward act binds others just as
much as if he did mean it. I would never do any
thing for the sake of wounding the feelings of Roman
Catholics ; but if I, though no longer a priest, (ex
cept by a Papal theory), chose to go into a baker’s
shop and say, Hoc est corpus meum, and meant to con
secrate ; all the quarterns, half quarterns, rolls and
biscuits made of pure flour and water would become
men—so many Jesus Christs ;—but those wherein the
ingredients were, to a considerable part, potatoe,
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
11
alum or rice, would not change. When I was at St
Sulpice, a devout priest of the Solitude at Issy, thus
thought he had accidentally consecrated all the French
rolls at dinner, and requested people to pause and
adore their God present on the table-cloth with his
human body. On another occasion, that same priest
forgot to say the words of consecration at mass, being
in ecstasy; so he communicated all the people with
bread instead of flesh, and only afterwards remem
bered his mistake. If I went into a wine merchant’s,
and whispered a short sentence over the bottles and
casks adequately open to my view,—the wine, if not
too much brandied, watered, or adulterated, would
all become God and man. If the wine on the altar
be not pure, there is no change produced at consecra
tion—no God—no human body—no blood. The
priest buys his altar breads of a bookseller; his house
keeper cuts them up and trims them with scissors,
and puts them out ready for consecration; if the
priest does not mean to consecrate when he says the
words, or if he says the words erroneously, no conse
cration takes place ; or if he means only to consecrate
the hosts in one particular vase’on the altar, whereas
other hosts are lying close by, these others continue
bread. The same doubts infest all the Sacraments.
The Roman Catholic abdicates his reason to a church'
which presents to him nothing but a complication of
uncertainties, to be acted upon without investigation.
As to the beauty of the services—it is all very well
for people who like tinsel, and haberdashery, and
genuflections, and plenty of wax candles ;—undoubt
edly, young children, and grown up children, are
pleased with such pretty baubles, but those who are
Behind the scenes are perfectly sick of them, and only
go through them as a duty. Before a high festival, a
vestry is like the green-room of a theatre ; and in the
month of May, the dressing up of the Madonna is
gone through with a feeling of shame by every man
�22.
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
who is not a born woman. I think an exception
must be made for the bishops. I believe that when
a bishop is dressed up in all liis tawdry, crowned with
a mitre of gilt pasteboard, and genuflected to, and
addressed as my Lord, that it does rather please the
recipient—though I know that some of the bishops
are not beguiled by the adulation, but regard it all as
necessary nonsense to be gone through for the sake of
a good slice of absolute power. People who like a
show, can see it done better in a theatre—and it is
quite as religious ; for the instruction given to all the
performers of the solemn masses, and other grand func
tions, is not to pray, but to mind the ceremonies, so as
to perform them accurately. Dr Gentili used to say
—“ I have been all over Italy, and found once, in a
country village, a sacristan who was not an atheist; ”
reminding me thus of the repeated saying of an Eng
lish Roman Catholic bishop when he returned from
Rome: “There is one honest man there, and he
is weak, vain, and obstinate.” Every one understood
him to mean the Pope. The whole thing is rotten
where it is not an illusion; and these dear good Eng
lish and Irish Roman Catholics being not allowed to
think or to question, are the more easily surrounded
with the halo of their own gentleness, and tenderness,
and reverence. I do not mean that they are gentle
or tender towards heretics and unbelievers, for they
are not. They are bound to believe them morally
criminal; hateful to God, and deserving of all pun
ishment. To a believing Roman Catholic, persecu
tion is now de fide, and a virtue. The Vatican sect is
at enmity with the human race.
You are not correct in your opinion regarding
priests and nuns. I quite concur with your statement,
that if your niece gives herself up to them, and then
leaves them, she will have to endure much from them
even in this country. When Dr Newman and Dr
Manning left the Church of England, and joined the
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
■ 23
Church of Rome ; when —-—- (a Unitarian lady)
became a Roman Catholic, Unitarians expressed
surprise, but never calumniated, knowing how im
possible it is for all good and clever people to think
alike; but if your niece leaves the Roman Catholic
church, she must expect to be calumniated. The
Roman Catholics regard heresy as so foul a moral
crime, that to impute to a heretic one or two more
lesser crimes, cannot be regarded as a grave injury.
The kindest thing they will say of her will be—“ She
is mad;—she always was rather weak—she is not re
sponsible
or else it will be, “ She deceived us when
she joined us; she never really had faith, only opin
ion
she is proud and wayward.” Such sayings
whispered against her, will not be pleasant; espe
cially when, in all probability, accompanied with
more malignant insinuations ; she had much better
pause now, reflect more, read on both sides, weigh
real evidence. It will be terribly difficult and
painful to retract; particularly in countries like Eng
land or Ireland, where she will probably not get
shocked by scandals, but on the contrary, attracted by
many gentle virtues and pleasing child-like simplicities.
At one time I thought such virtues existed only amongst
Romanists, and those Anglicans who approximated to
them. I now perceive with gladness that all these
beautiful qualities are the appanage of human nature,
that where they exist, their existence is not the crea
tion of any dogma or sect-—that they are to be found
in all churches, sects, and creeds, united with all be
liefs and disbeliefs. When I left the Roman Catholic
Church, I expected never again to find some of the
attractive specialities of characters I had known and
loved. I have found them just the same—just the
same variations—I now believe in human nature.
�24
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
You will thus perceive that I cannot endorse your
apprehensions regarding the Roman Catholic clergy in
•countries happily possessing numerous opposing sects.
Nothing would be so fatal to morality as what
anglicans call the union of the churches. You know
the admirable reputation of the anglican and noncon
formist clergy—the Roman Catholic clergy equal them.
The life of a Roman Catholic priest (especially if
belonging to a religious order) is a very comfortable
life ; he has no anxieties, no responsibilities, no future
to provide for; he may become somewhat egotistic,
self-indulgent, and pharisaical; he may attend sick
calls and the confessional much, as an ordinary minded
surgeon will visit cases j the high-flown things said
of him are in general moonshine ; but his life will be
as morally respectable as if he were a rector or a
minister. The differences will be merely external.
In most parts of South America no native ever goes
to confession—the “religion ” consists in wax madon
nas—and the madonnas are decidedly preferable to
the priests; also as to Spain, Portugal, and Italy, unim
aginative Roman Catholic travellers do not report
well. But in England, Ireland, and Scotland, it is
different—the priests vary as to birth, education, and
characteristics, but they are neither better or worse
than their fathers, brothers, and companions.
As to the nuns, most priests of experience are
agreed that they ought not to have parochial schools,
reformatories, or boarding schools; that secular teachers
succeed much better, with much less show; also, that
nuns after some years of convent life, nearly invari
ably deteriorate. But never in the way you suppose.
I do not mean that nuns do not even, very frequently,
■dote on their confessor with a morbid, sickly, and
intense personal attachment ; they very often do ; as
do also the girls injudiciously secluded in convent
boarding schools; but I assert, emphatically, that
•other accusations as applied to this country, are not
�On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
2 5-
true ; I have been “ extraordinary ” of different con
vents j if I knew of scandals through private confid
ences thus intrusted to me, I should of course, in
honour, be silent on the whole subject: but I unhesi
tatingly assert that, as to the popular rumours of
criminalities between nuns and their confessors, it is,
to the best of my English experience, absolutely false.
I the more willingly glance at real evils, that I may
be trusted when I deny unfounded charges. Many
nuns in convents are not happy, but then they deem
that unhappiness a sign that it is pleasing to God,
and if they were turned out by Mr Newdegate, they
would seek re-admission. But many more are very
happy—lead the life of harmless and rather supercil
ious, self-righteous children, and if they never become
superiors, retain their childish simplicity and sweet
ness much more than when they become “ representa
tives of God.” Nuns all regard Jesus Christ as their
husband, and cultivate towards him the conjugal feel
ing, especially in the most recluse communities.
And now I have answered all your questions. I
leave my letters at your disposal according to your
urgent request. You can unite with them the first
inclosure, changing in all the letters enough to conceal
the persons alluded to. The other parties agree to
their free circulation or publication.
For myself, under the circumstances I felt bound to
speak, but it has been with pain. When anglican
converts have left the English church—in which they
had passed so many happy and holy years, they
speedily published against it diatribes, in which
they seemed to delight, for they dipped their pen in
gall. I cannot say that it is with any approach to
such feelings that I write of Roman Catholics ; I know
that, theoretically, they cannot reciprocate my affec
tion and esteem ; but it has been always a delight to
me when I have been able to clear them from unjust
�16
On a Conversion to Roman Catholicism.
aspersions; it is with sadness that I warn against
that fearful despotism, under which they must, as
time advances, be prostrated more and more. May
some of those, dear to me by a thousand memories,
obtain courage to investigate, and then, conscientiously
shaking off the incubus, arise as the freed children of
the Universal Father.—Yours very sincerely,
Robert Rodolph Suffield.
TURNBULL AND SPEARS PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Five Letters on a conversion to Roman Catholicism
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Suffield, Robert Rudolph
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 26 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Printed by Turnbull and Spears, Edinburgh. Date of publication from KVK.
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Thomas Scott
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1873
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CT94
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Catholic Church
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Conversion-Catholic Church
Conway Tracts