LETTER. (continued 3)

“To assemble the Church in Convocation or Synod, for such a purpose as this, would be to place her in a most undignified position, that of exhibiting herself for approbation. We should be treating her as a mob would treat a popular leader; if she should speak our language—‘hosanna,’ if not—‘crucify.’ We should have the air of enquiring of an oracle, whereas we should only be questioning a suspected delinquent. We should seem to ask advice, but approbation of our own predetermined opinions would be all the answer we should condescend to receive.

* * * *

“If the assembling of the convocation or synod would in any real sense ‘settle the question,’ if its declaration would be really ‘authoritative,’ if the members of the Church would be religiously bound to listen to its voice as that of the teacher of truth, or even if it would be a step towards a decision by a higher tribunal, that may be a reason for assembling it; but if it is to bind no one, and its decision is only sought for as a test of its own vitality, then I should be disposed to ask whether such a proceeding is not of very doubtful propriety.

“No doubt, it might be quite right to force a subordinate court to speak, in order to arrive at a decision by a higher tribunal, but to force a final court of appeal to speak when you have no intention of obeying it, seems to me to be an act of the same kind as pleading before, or sitting upon, a tribunal, against the authority of which you intend to protest, should its decision displease you.” [124]

I have cited this somewhat lengthy passage: but it will enable me to make my own remarks the briefer that I have thus fully stated the objection. The answer to its whole drift seems to me to be this, that no synod or convocation of the English Church is, or can be, a “final court.” This writer seems to have let it escape him that, though we may have among ourselves no higher appeal, yet there is one in the world. The Church Catholic, and especially It in council, is an authority to which all provincial synods are subject, and to which our deepest reverence is due. The writer in question does say indeed, if a decision by convocation would be “a step towards a decision by a higher tribunal,” it would be a reason: for convocation being assembled; not however, I think, as contemplating any higher tribunal than our convocation, but merely as shewing the impropriety of its being called together at all. In the next paragraph he explains this:—“No doubt it might be quite right to force a subordinate court to speak, in order to arrive at a decision by a higher tribunal; but to force a final (sic) court of appeal to speak,” (evidently assuming this quality to belong to the English synod or convocation) “when you have no intention of obeying it, seems to me to be an act of the same kind as pleading before, or sitting upon, a tribunal, against the authority of which you intend to protest, should its decision displease you.” Now, my view certainly is not merely that we should protest against (though we will not contemplate) any heretical decision by convocation; but, if it were so, should also appeal from it to the voice of Christendom. “The only superior known to the local Church is the authority of the Church universal.” [125a] Surely of that authority we must not be forgetful, whatever be the difficulties at present in the way of an appeal to it. “Is the Church of England so isolated from the Universal, that the faith of the Church universal has no influence unto its theology?” [125b] And yet this point seems to be forgotten by the otherwise careful writer of the pamphlet in question. And in forgetting this, of course he must do wrong to the position of the Church of England, as well as, I fear, discourage those who are labouring for her freedom. We are but a part of Christendom, but this claim to allow no appeal from our convocation, seems to arrogate to ourselves to be either the whole, or so capable of standing by ourselves, that we desire to be freed from any subordination to the whole, which would be, in fact, no less than to make ourselves “guilty of a formal schism from the universal Church of Christ.” [126] We must not allow ourselves to forget there is such a thing as an œcumenical council of Christendom, and whatever the difficulties in the way of its assembling, yet to it, as I believe, all true hearts should turn. Certainly, for myself I can say that this, as the great remedy for all our troubles and distractions, and “not for ours only,” but for those of Christendom at large, has been constantly present to my mind these many years. That God of his mercy, and in His good time, would grant us a general council to ease and compose our differences, and to restore the unity of Christendom, and, if it come, grant us all the due mind of submission to it, has been now for no short period a portion of my daily prayers; and I think there is no just ground to decry the petition as either fanciful or wrong; at least we have the warrant of some among us of great name who have not thought so. “That I might live to see the re-union of Christendom,” says Archbishop Bramhall, “is a thing for which I shall always bow the knees of my heart to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” * * * * “Howsoever it be, I submit myself and my poor endeavours,” he continues, “first to the judgment of the Catholic œcumenical essential Church, which, if some of late days have endeavoured to hiss out of the schools, as a fancy, I cannot help it. From the beginning it was not so.” * * * * “Likewise I submit myself to the representative Church, that is, a free general council, or so general as can be procured, and until then to the Church of England, wherein I was baptized, or to a national English synod.” [127] I do not say whether the confidence with which Bramhall trusted an English synod, was excessive in his day, or would be excessive in ours, but assuredly he recognises the appeal to a higher court; and this is exactly what I affirm we must bear in mind there is, if we seem to put our own Church to the test, by demanding that her convocation shall again be allowed to meet. It may be supposed, indeed, that an œcumenical council is at present hopeless, and therefore that all mention of an appeal to it is out of place; but I do not think this, and for two reasons; in the first place that there are certain points of doctrine which have been so definitely ruled by general councils, that we know on them there could be no variation; and in the second, that I see no ground to despair of another such council in God’s good time being called together. [128] Even in the mean time the thought of such a council is neither impertinent, nor unpractical: for I suppose no one will hold that a national synod or convocation may determine anything as to its Church’s doctrine, and yet no man be justified in leaving her communion. Such course however must be taken, to be taken rightly, not on the impulse of a man’s own will, or the bent of his own mind; but only in obedience to what Christendom has definitely ruled, and in implicit submission to what she would now say, could she meet in free and general council. Such right of action, so guarded, I think must be allowed, for if not, it would follow that, during the suspension of the voice of the Church Universal, any provincial Church might commit herself to Socinianism, nay, to Deism, or Pantheism, under the name of Christianity, and yet no man have even his individual remedy against a body so lapsing from the faith, until a general council could pronounce upon the matter. This is clearly a reductio ad absurdum, and therefore we may and ought, (though we will never contemplate our Church authorising or affirming heresy in her synods or convocation,) yet not to be afraid to strive for their revival, as though there were no appeal above her, and no solution if she should fail under the trial. When too we remember what we are in danger of sanctioning by acquiescence, and in what a position we may thus place ourselves for the judgment of an œcumenical council upon us when it may come, we see all the greater cause to wish for the restoration of our synods and convocations, nay, to account it an absolute duty which, thank God, needs no calculation of results at all, to run the risk, if risk it be considered, of what our Church will say, and positively claim by them. In order to clear herself, she must be allowed to speak.

Further, the “Anglican Layman” admits if convocation’s meeting “would be a step towards a decision by a higher tribunal, that may be a reason for assembling it.” I take him at his word; I ask him especially to consider if this be not one of the results to be expected, and, (if he shall, upon consideration, be satisfied on the point) then I ask him further to join in the efforts which are being made to obtain the revival of our Church’s synodical functions.

I have said what the higher tribunal is. I have said I think we ought to work even now with a view to its judgment. Suppose a general council were to be held;—say then, whether the determination of these questions, which now distract us, would not be a step towards a final resolution of them all by its authority. For, say first, the English Synod or Convocation boldly asserted the catholic verity on Baptism, would not this be a great step towards our being received openly and unhesitatingly into the bosom of Christendom, when her council shall meet, and say, as say it must, in what light the Anglican communion is to be regarded. Or suppose (let me be forgiven for the supposition in the way of argument, and here necessary to it,) that the result of her counsel were an ambiguous or heretical determination. Surely even this would not be without its use in limiting the points in issue, and help (no small consideration) all Catholic-minded men among us to acquiesce in any censure which Christendom might pass upon us. This, I cannot regard as an unimportant gain, since owing to our isolation, and I fear I must say, our national prejudices, there might be great danger, that even the decision of an œcumenical council upon our position and our duties, would hardly be received as it ought to be even by all those who are striving humbly after truth. But if then we must be condemned (I am not saying it would be so; again and again I must repeat it; but if it were so,) it would surely be something for the comfort and guidance of us all, that it should be on plain and undisputed grounds; that our Church had spoken, and spoken amiss; that she had tampered with the ancient faith, and changed the primæval creeds. Though I do not say any of these things will come upon us, yet I do think the position in which we stand without convocation, and the dangers of, what would be called in human affairs, a downward policy, are so great that they justify us in speaking out very plainly, and in looking to help from Christendom in case of need. I do believe never till we get to look out of ourselves to Christendom at large, never till we remember our due place in it, never till we are ready to accept its decrees better to define our position, and help us in the practical restoration of our teaching to what it ought to be, shall we be in that right mind and heart, which is waiting duly for the Bridegroom’s call.

I am quite prepared to have these remarks called visionary and unreal; and all dependence on, nay all reference to, the Universal Church, unpractical and absurd. But “none of these things move me,” and I am, though I trust, no fanatic, yet hopeful of the help of God for those who will try to help themselves. As I have said before, I cannot think the expectation of a general council is chimerical. I cannot believe if it come it will be useless. I agree with you in saying, “we have no right to expect an audible or visible interposition of Almighty God,” to direct us in our difficulties. “We must not wait to see his handwriting on the wall, or to hear his voice among us;” [131] but I have yet faith enough in miracles to believe, if that be one, that God may grant us the miracle of Christendom again in council, and make it the means to heal all our distempers, and bind up all our wounds. Of this hope and this faith, no man shall deprive me by the mere calculations of human policy, or by the perverseness of an un-Catholic despair.

And now, my dear Friend, if you have followed me through these pages, as I know with all kindness and attention you will have done, you will see, in some measure at any rate, why I must bitterly lament and utterly condemn the steps which you have taken. I cannot see that the Church of England has forfeited her trust. I cannot, therefore, believe God has forsaken her. I cannot think that He bids us leave her. I have not indeed concealed my opinion of the dangers which beset her. Humanly speaking, her safety lies in their being known and felt by her children; but I firmly believe there is yet a battle to be fought in her, and for her, which is worth all our energies and should engage all our hearts. No man knows better than you what is to be done: no man better how great is the stake: no man better how glorious the result, if God grant the battle to be won. Alas! that it should be bitter now to say it, no man has fought more nobly in the ranks of the English Church: no man more distinctly or with less hesitating lips has enunciated her dogmatic teaching: no man has contended more boldly on the side of God, and the creeds, and the Catholic faith than you have done in this our battle for life and death! Oh! that you might even now once more “cast in your lot among us;” confess you believe you have been blinded by care and grief, and so been at least over-hasty in your resolves; and throw yourself once more into the ranks of the chosen warriors among us, and into the battle with us. Believe me,—nay, rather judge it for yourself—great things are coming on apace: things which will make men’s course plain before their face, without their being over-forward to decide them in isolation for themselves by the mere act of their private judgment; and perchance if we may but be wisely guided, and have patience to endure, we may both come out ourselves “as silver purified seven times in the fire,” and be the means, though all unworthy, to unite Christendom again in one. Oh! what heart can exaggerate the beauty with which our Church shall again shine forth, if she can retain the good that is in her and discard the evil! How nobly will then appear the characteristic virtues of the English mind;—its love of honesty and truth;—its conscientiousness and repudiation of pious frauds;—its loathing disbelief in the avail of expiation of sin by mere formal observances, the sinner remaining unrepentant all the while! If these qualities may be fostered, and its characteristic vices;—its arrogancy and pride;—its unbounded reliance upon itself, and the miserably ignorant as well as utterly destructive habit and abuse of private judgment: therefore its refusal of Catholic teaching, and practical denial of sacramental grace; if these can be eradicated, how fairly indeed shall the Church of England shine forth once more, as “clothed in white raiment,” as able “to save alive the souls” committed to her, as “the ransomed” and “well-beloved” of the Lord! “as a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.” But for this (though we know God needeth no man’s help, and can spare whom he pleaseth, and his work not the less be done, and his counsel stand,) yet we seem to be able to spare no man from our ranks who has ever fought upon our side. Oh! (with a breaking heart, one is almost tempted to exclaim:) Oh! that we could but have with us now, all those who in these last five or ten years have “lost patience” in our camp. What with them, could they be restored to us, might we not seem ready to attain, even against all the “principalities and powers” that latitudinarian indifference or infidel philosophy may array against us? But, I may not indulge in such longings. I may not ask, nor think of, nor hope, even your return. I do not ask it, for I know it is a thing you may not grant for asking. I will not think of it, for “vain are the thoughts of man!” I will not even hope it; for why should “the heart be made sick,” when so much work is to be done. But I may and will pray for it, if it be His gracious will, who is able to give more than we know how either to ask or to think, “whose way is in the sea, and whose paths in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not known.”

Believe me, my dear Maskell, yours, though in sorrow, still in affection,

MAYOW WYNELL MAYOW.