ganizing influences of these latter days, the whole of Europe has been visited; granting even that, as a reformed Church, we are decidedly anti-æsthetical in our tendencies and temper; we shall still confidently repel any derogatory insinuations which might be derived from this circumstance. We do but recognize in this, as in so many other respects, our resemblance to the Church of the first three or four centuries; and humbly, nay, thankfully, acquiesce in our peculiar destiny. We shall not, at all events, be disposed to admit the fact as a head of indictment against us; for, on the whole, after the fairest consideration of both sides of the question, we cannot but conclude as follows:-If there is a form of Christianity now in the world which is more bent on inward purity than on outward display, and is almost destitute of sensual attractions ;-a religion which is, nevertheless, regarded with jealousy by the secular arm, and ever suspected of aiming at power and affecting splendour, while its very spirituality is made its reproach by an opposite class of enemies;-a religion whose doctrines have been often denounced, but never convicted of inconsistency with the unerring rule of Right;—a religion which it has been generally attempted to decry by appealing to its comparative numerical smallness, but which is infinitely larger than its enemies are willing to confess; not "national," as has been so often asserted, but as Catholic in its extent as any which exists;-a religion which has indeed been fruitful in sects and grotesque forms of heresy, but which has never hitherto wanted a champion,-a Hooker, a Laud, a Bull, a Butler,-to engage its foes, whether assailing it from within or from without;-a religion seemingly indefinite in some of its outlines, and singularly destitute of systematic treatises embracing the encyclopædia of doctrine, theoretical and practical ;—a religion which is only held by the State, so to speak, in mechanical solution, being in it, but not of it; frequently ill-used, and exposed at all times to its plunder, oppression, and wrong;-a religion which, stationary and inactive as it may seem, is, in truth, working like leaven, and actively engaged in evangelizing distant portions of the globe ;-a religion which seeks for love, but finds cruelty and persecution; which yet, amid many discouragements and some defections, looks forward with hope and confidence to a high destiny in reserve for it, and brighter days hereafter;—a religion which men of other countries brand with hard names, and so barely allow, that its members abroad are obliged to meet for purposes of prayer in upper chambers and private houses, anathematized, as if their church were some impure thing, fit only to be cast out with loathing and abhorrence, as unworthy of regard till it has atoned for its involuntary estrangement, and assimilated

itself to the larger corrupt mass, with which, at a certain time, it seemed to all but its own eyes identified ;-a religion which, nevertheless, cannot be brought for any consideration to perform this act of reconcilement, on the ground that it is possessed of a Revelation from Almighty God forbidding its compliance; and is content to be chiefly mocked and insulted for urging this very plea;-a religion which is compelled to protest against the worship of the creature rather than the Creator, and contends that the larger part of the civilized world have darkened their consciences, perverted the teaching of God, and taught for doctrines the commandments of men :-if there be such a religion now in the world, it is not unlike Christianity as Christianity actually was when first it came forth from its Divine Author.

ART. VII.-Letters to M. Gondon, author of "Mouvement Religieux en Angleterre," "Conversion de Soixante Ministres Anglicans," &c. &c., on the Distinctive Character of the Church of Rome both in Religion and Policy. By CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D., Canon of St. Peter's, Westminster.

It is difficult to write on the subject of the defections which have recently taken place to Romanism without seeming either to undervalue or to overvalue the importance of that movement. On the one hand, it would be inexpedient as well as absurd to join in the lamentation of some well-meaning persons, who imagine that all the learning and piety which existed in the English Church has departed along with those who have fallen away from her communion. It may be very natural for those who have derived their views in religion entirely from the former writings of those unhappy persons, to suppose that truth and piety and learning cannot be found elsewhere; that whatever is not cast in their peculiar mould must be worthless. And this is a feeling which is, of course, assiduously kept alive by all the opponents of the Church, especially by Romanists. To hear them, we might suppose that theology had remained altogether unknown in the Church of England until a Newman or a Faber or an Oakely arose to call it into existence. But this is a sort of feeling and of argument which can have no influence on those who are acquainted, even slightly, with the real treasures of English theology,—who are not wholly ignorant of the writings of such men as Barrow and Laud, Bull, Beveridge, Hammond, Stillingfleet, Waterland, and others, who have in every way proved their intimacy with all the depths of Christian doctrine, and who have maintained its articles with triumphant effect against all adversaries whatsoever. To those who know the real power of Christian doctrine in such worthy hands, to those who have not taken as their guides the views of rash and unsteady men of the present day-men whose principles were never settled-men who began to teach without having ascertained the truth of the principles on which they started-men who, without intellectual ballast, threw themselves into the troubled waters of controversy, and after being driven hither and thither, at length made shipwreck of their faith;—to

those who have made the Word and the Church of the living God their rule and their guide, the defection of such unstable men cannot be any matter of alarm or amazement. They know that if some of those who have fallen were remarkable for learning or for purity of life, still greater learning and not inferior holiness of conduct have distinguished those eminent men who, in former times, under all circumstances of persecution, have adhered to the communion of the English Church; nor are they ignorant, that in all ages of Christianity men of zeal, and of learning, and of seriousness of life have been at times misled and have fallen into very serious errors. Assuredly no one can deny to Wesley, for instance, a very sincere piety and zeal, and attainments of a very respectable description; and yet this did not save him from error and schism. Heresiarchs indeed, in every age, have been, for the most part, remarkable for ability, attainments, and austerity of life; while it is evident that in some one point their Christian character has been extremely defective. And we should say that the great fault of those who acted as leaders of the party which has now separated from the Church, lay in rashness and overconfidence in their own judgment. This secret pride of intellect naturally led to extravagance in every shape, and as naturally brought down on its subjects the displeasure of the rulers of the Church and the general disapprobation of its members; so that, in the end, having brought upon themselves a virtual excommunication, and feeling that all their influence was at an end for ever, they gave way to the temptation of forsaking a communion which had ceased to regard them with favour, and turned their eyes towards that communion which their rashness and thirst for novelty had long inspired with hopes of their conversion. Unstable men, puffed up by the adulation of a circle of admirers, they were unable to endure their fall from the position which they had, not undeservedly, for a while occupied in public estimation; and as they were incapable of submitting their judgments to authority, or of taking the place of learners after having occupied that of teachers, they easily fell into the snares which were placed in their way.

There can be no evil now in expressing opinions on the characters of those whose actions and conduct have so long become public property, and who are entirely cut off from the communion of the Church of England. While they remained, however frail their tenure might be, however uncertain and unintelligible and unsatisfactory their position undoubtedly was, still it was advisable to avoid the expression of any opinions which might have given pain to those individuals; but the case is widely altered when the Gordian knot has been cut by their own act. Their

separation leaves us at liberty to speak more freely; and in the exercise of that freedom we do not hesitate to say, that however striking and remarkable were the abilities of Mr. Newman, and however considerable were his attainments-and they were continually on the increase-and however beautiful was, in some respects, the tone of his mind, yet still, there was throughout his whole conduct as a theological teacher, from the first moment of his publication of the "Tracts for the Times" till the close of his literary career by the publication of the "Essay on Development," a temerity on all theological subjects, which, aided as it was by a most singular and remarkable obstinacy and pertinacity in the maintenance of opinions put forward hastily and on very slight grounds, was amply sufficient to account for the aberrations from sound doctrine which gradually appeared, and which had an issue so deplorable. We do not wish to speak with any disrespect or harshness of Mr. Newman, but such is our opinion of his mental and moral constitution. Opinions were very hastily taken up, and on very imperfect knowledge in many cases. Those opinions were, when once put forward, defended with extreme ingenuity and industry. No pains were spared to accumulate proofs in their defence; nothing was ever retracted, though every one must have seen that some matters had been, to say the least, incautiously stated. We are merely stating facts, not explaining them.

And besides this, there was an organization for the spread of opinions; an organization which had all the characters of a party within the Church, and which led to party feeling and party conduct. And this organization in itself rendered it in a manner necessary that no backward steps should be taken; that no confession of faults or errors should be made; to have done so, would have been to diminish or destroy the unbounded influence which was exercised over minds which accepted the teaching of certain persons as virtually infallible; and perhaps it might be dreaded, that minds of that description, if once their confidence was shaken, might fall away into serious errors of various kinds. Such is our opinion of the position occupied by the only person of eminence who has left the Church. The others who preceded or followed him were mere satellites, men of no power or learning, and in many cases deplorably weak. These persons were entirely mystified by the sophistries which a superior mind had invented for the purpose of reconciling what could not possibly in reason be reconciled, namely, his position in the Church of England, and his principles. Hence arose that most strange and mystical theory which Mr. Ward and others openly advocated; that religious truth was to be determined entirely by the feelings, and without any rational inquiry. On this wild and extravagant