ble land into streams! and may he plant in the wilderness the cedar and the thorn, and the myrtle, and the olive-tree! (Isaias xli and liv.) May they again grow and flourish, and cast their shadow over the length and breadth of the land; and may the desolate cities be again inhabited!

The consequence of this total alienation from the ancient creed, was a new order of things that left nothing wherewith the imagination might assist the reason; no associations, no reminiscences; the poetry of religion driven from her precincts, the mysteries of faith departing from her, no warmth of affection in her heart, and consequently no glowing devotion in her prayers. It tore itself asunder from all former feelings and prepossessions; rendered the beautiful history of the English Church no better than a tale of fancy, and pronounced a verdict of condemnation against the greatest men that the nation ever produced, as well as against those to whom it was most deeply indebted. Not content with this state of internal desolation, it cut itself off from all sympathy with the rest of Christendom, and such was the fatuity by which the religious counsels of the country were thenceforth governed, that she appeared to be handed over to a judicial blindness in just punishment for her sins, a blindness which she has too faithfully transmitted from generation to generation for her subsequent story has never presented one interesting feature; exercising no influence beyond her own isolated territories; undertaking no enterprise, either in the cause of civilization or Christianity; adding nothing to the store of religious knowledge, or of ecclesiastical history, but on the contrary, manifestly retrograding in her course. As a member of the Christian community, she was a withered and lifeless branch, stirred only from time to time by the strife of her own internal dissensions. Usually sunk in apathy and indifference, she has been only roused to a knowledge of her own existence by the spirit of angry contention within her own bosom; and even here she has been ever governed by external circumstances which belonged to the wretched concerns and interests of this world, and not of the next. In her infancy

she cared little for doctrine or principle, provided she went wide enough from Rome, and established sufficient safeguards for the protection of the plunder which the abettors of the change were then enjoying; and, with this object in view, hostility to Rome was her best and surest resource. When the remembrance of Rome had been well nigh obliterated by a century of active persecution, the fears of a reaction in favor of the ancient creed, became a less powerful agent than the apprehension of an advance in the cause of innovation; for Puritanism was beginning its work, driving on its approaches both against Church and State, undermining all authority, both civil and religious, and threatening universal anarchy and confusion. A return to better principles was the obvious policy of all who felt an interest in averting the impending evil, or who venerated any of the established institutions of the country. It was not, therefore, surprising that an attempt should be made to infuse a new spirit into the Church, if it were only as an object of human policy; and to strengthen itself by drawing closer its alliance with the state, was its first and most natural impulse. The theory of the divine right of kings, and of passive obedience to their authority, was exalted into an article of Christian faith and employed as the engine most suitable to the purpose. For, with all its licentiousness of principle, breaking through all the trammels which had hitherto restrained the capricious exercise of the human mind, overleaping all the landmarks which their fathers had set, wandering into the wild regions of fancy, and emancipating itself from the thraldom of spirital authority, the new religion was not only as positive in its dogmas, and as determined to enforce them as the religion it had supplanted, but actually introduced one doctrine (while it discarded many which had long been held by all),-which no sect or denomination of Christians had ever yet defined as an article of faith,-a blind and passive obedience to the temporal sovereign. The identity of Church and state was a principle most serviceable to both, and each was but too anxious to enhance the power and privileges of the other. The natural

tendency of this condition of things was an approach to the more substantial, better defined, better understood, and more comprehensive doctrines which had been overthrown or remodeled, under circumstances which drove the new teaching to seek excuses for its transgressions in the necessities of the times, in which a spirit of protestation against Rome was the leading principle, and which almost alone governed it in its decisions during the period of transition and separation. The attempt, however, was a signal failure, and the external energies of a new and fanatical sect carried the day over a frail and tottering system, which evinced symptoms of decay in its very infancy, and which soon lost its force when it abandoned the only principles by which it could possibly retain it. From the restoration to the final extinction of exclusion and persecution on account of religious opinions, the Anglican Church lay like a dismantled log upon the waters, disfiguring the fair ocean by its unsightly bulk, a serious injury to other craft, and wholly incapable of righting itself. During this melancholy period of death-like inertness, she seems to have reduced Christianity, as far as possible, to the standard of heathenism. There was neither reliance on, nor respect for her authority; her doctrines were a paradox, and, for aught that any one believed of them, they might as well have been the mythology of the Greeks; her revenues were a mere maintenance for the priesthood, her festivals only an occasion for feasting and display; while she was wholly bereft of any real influence over the faith and morals of the people, and performed a very secondary part amongst the social or political relations of the kingdom. But this moral sleep was not to endure forever, and during these latter days, a long period of peace, ever favorable for calm religious inquiry, a more intimate and friendly intercourse with other countries, and a general stir in the Christian world, have conspired to turn her attention upon herself again, upon her own inanimate condition, and induce her to endeavor to inspire fresh vigor into her system, and raise herself to a more elevated sphere in the religious com

monwealth. Yet, after every attempt, how little has been achieved! and, whatever commendations may be due to the actors in this work of regeneration, we must still predict its utter failure, because of the natural and radical defects of the principles upon which they work; and when the heat of this singular controversy is over within the bosom of a Church which has adopted unity of belief as an essential token of truth, and which has fenced its creed with all the powers at its command-the powers of the earth, pains, penalties, and disabilities; a controversy carried on by the most learned and most dignified of her sons, and one which has well nigh engaged the whole kingdom within the lists, and embroiled even the least contentious in the dispute, who can say that the cause of truth will have advanced even by a single step? Thus hath the modern Church of these realms, been ever travelling on the confines of two worlds, the one of folly, the other of wisdom; too often does she cross the borders to the former, never does she enter the latter. Her language, too, partakes of the character of her conduct; it is one which none can understand, farther than as it betrays the troubled and feverish condition in which she finds herself.

From the clear, distinct, and definite ideas attached to the authoritative decisions of the Catholic Church, and which ever held her in a real and practical unity both of faith and discipline throughout the land, and joined her in communion with all the orthodox and united Churches in the world, we must now fain be content with "the ambiguous formularies," as they call them, of the wretched system which has been substituted in its stead. They themselves tell us of the "perplexing embarrassment " so prevalent amongst them on doctrinal points; we hear of nothing but "the perplexity of controversy;" of " conflicting opinions;" of articles which, as to any intelligible meaning, are still in a state of transition, and, after a discussion of three hundred years, as little likely to find any fixed interpretation as if they had never been discussed at all; the Church not knowing how even "strictly to determine the

number of the sacraments,"—those “justifying rites, or instruments of communicating the atonement;"-and of a new "understanding of the Church and her system, in a way different from one of late popular." The doctrines of eternal truth are still fashioned according to "the necessities of the times;" the whole Church is divided within itself into high and low,―at one time imbued with a spirit of Erastianism, at another with Calvinism; while a via media is recommended by some as a cure for all her evils, for "doctrines popularly misunderstood," for "internal disunion paralyzing her efforts and wasting her energies." They tell us of her "maimed condition;" of her want of holiness sufficient to mark her out visibly as a true living branch of the holy Church;" of her possessing perhaps "the rudiments of everything, but nothing developed, so that it should at once be manifest' to all, that God is in her of a truth ;"" of "manifold divisions amongst themselves, contending upon points which they, on one side at least, state to be fundamental,”"bandying about the name of heresy,"and "casting out the names of brethren' as evil;" of "the impossibility of understanding each other, or making themselves understood;" of a state "more like the confusion of Babel," than that "city which is at unity in itself," and "in which it was promised that there should be one speech and one language;" of "the laity having thus far no living guide, the lips of the priest' not 'teaching knowledge' for them— for persons whom they alike respect, teach them differently, and one of the two great classes of teachers tells them often that the other is in fatal error;" of "our poor frail nature (being) fretted often, instead of being humbled by what is so unseemly," so "that persons have difficulty in recognizing a Church so disturbed, as the representative of her who is the pillar and the ground of truth ;'" of her "not possessing the note of holiness, so as at once, and without all doubt, to allay people's misgivings about her apostolic character;" of one party in the Church stigmatizing the other as 'the troublers of Israel;"" of "the censures or admonitions of their bishops tending rather

to unsettle persons in their Church than to convince and correct;" of " antagonist principles" at work in the same body, and yet schism considered as no sin-dissension as no evil token. We hear the working of one party declared by the other to be "tending to re-establish error rather than truth," her ministers to be "the instruments of Satan to hinder the true principles of the Gospel," "on the very verge of an apostacy from Christ," and "as teaching another Gospel," and consequently "that they ought to leave the Church," in which they were so teaching; "that nothing but evil came from them,"-" defacing the brightest glory of the Church, by forgetting the continued presence of her Lord," and fit only to be " singled out from the rest of our Lord's flock, as diseased and tainted sheep, who must be kept separate from the rest, lest they be corrupted." They tell us that their "intestine divisions (are) such that they disagree among themselves as to what the doctrines of the Church are, even as to the very sacrament whereby persons are made members of it;" of " their miserable disunion, and want of discipline;" of "their present confusion and disagreement as to the first principles of their Church, and their practical contradictions or neglect of them;" so that for the present at least "she can be no spectacle of a Church 'holding the faith in the unity of the Spirit and in the bond of peace,' and that unity and peace seem to be the last characteristics which belong to her;" that the real teaching of the Church is not to be discerned amidst the multitude of opinions and teachings of her ministers, so that those who constitute the "mighty movement now swelling month by month, day by day, within the Church, have received a sectarian name, in itself a blot upon the Church," while they whose office it is to guide that movement into its legitimate channel, and to witness the doctrines of the Church, have allowed the leaders and abettors of that movement "to be entitled "heretics,' for vindicating an article of the creed, and left it undetermined whether (these) or they who opposed that teaching, spake the mind of the Church," while "the chaos of con

unar

flicting opinions rolled onwards " rested. "What wonder," exclaims the original leader of the movement, and we exclaim with him, "if some are faint-hearted whether our Lord be in the vessel which is not only so tempest-tost, but whose very ship-men and pilots are so disunited, how or whither to guide her, 'neither sun nor stars appearing.'" And all this is but a consequence of the change.*

Let us now hear him who at first stood second on the list, but from being second is now first, having passed the original leader of the movement, as being perchance better qualified for the task, and having lately presented a splendid proof of his ingenuousness and sincerity: speaking, in his introduction to the famous Tract, No. 90, of the actual condition of the Church of England, after a chequered existence of three hundred years, but at a period when, if ever, she should have been walking in the ways of peace and light, in the full enjoyment of all the blessings of this peaceful and enlightened age: and yet what are his views? "It is a very serious truth," says he, "that persons and bodies, who put themselves into a disadvantageous state, cannot at their pleasure extricate themselves from it. They are unworthy of it; they are in prison, and Christ is the keeper. There is but one way towards a real reformation, a return to Him in heart and spirit, whose sacred truth they have betrayed; . . . . our Church's strength would be irresistible, humanly speaking, were it but at unity with itself: if it remains divided, part against part, we shall see the energy which was meant to subdue the world preying upon itself, according to our Saviour's express assurance that such a house cannot stand.'. . . . Till we are stirred up to this religious course, let the Church sit still; let her children be content to be in bondage; let us work in chains; let us submit to our imperfections as a punishment; let us go on teaching through the medium of indeterminate statements and inconsistent prece

See the charges of the bishops of Durham, Chester, Gloucester, Winchester, Calcutta, and of the archbishop of Dublin, as quoted and commented on in the Rev. Dr. Pusey's letter to the archbishop of Canterbury.

dents, and principles but partially developed.* We are not better than our fathers; let us not faint under that body of death which they bore about in patience; nor shrink from the penalty of sins which they inherited from the age before them." Another, and a very reverential personage, and a very eminent partizan of this movement, has favored us with the following commentary upon these observations, and which tend still more to develop the real and radically inefficient character of the Established Church-of a Church without law or grace. "Is Mr. Newman," says Mr. Ward, "(so cautious and guarded in his statements as all admit him to be), is he to be supposed to use words of such unprecedented strength as these, without meaning and at random? Or is it conceivable that he could use them, if he thought our articles fair and adequate exponents of Catholic truth? How could he speak and think as he does of the English reformation, if he supposed that the formulary then originated, was even as naturally susceptible of Catholic as of Protestant interpretation? No! he would acknowledge, and apprehend, that as it has been expressed, while it is patient of a Catholic, it is ambitious of a Protestant sense; that, while it was never intended to exclude Catholics, it was written by, and in the spirit of Protestants; that in consequence of it the English Church seems at least to give an uncertain sound; that she fails in one of her very principal duties, that of witnessing plainly and directly to Catholic truth; that she seems to include whom she ought to repel, to teach what she is bound to anathematize; and that it is difficult to estimate the amount of responsibility she year by year incurs, on account of those (claiming, as many of them do, our warm love for a zeal and earnest piety worthy of a purer faith) who remain buried in the darkness of Protestant error, because she fails in her duty of holding clearly forth to them the light of Gospel truth."t

Was such language ever used? was it

*Or, as it was expressed in the first edition, "with the stammering lips of ambiguous formularies."

"A few words more in support of No. 90.”

possible it ever could be used towards the ancient Church of these realms? But to that which has supplanted it, it applies with all the force of indisputable truth. Such, then, are her gains by the change! and such is the condition of the Anglican Church, as painted by those of her children who know her best, but which it is yet the boast and pride of most modern Englishmen to uphold as a model of perfection, and to glory in having substituted for the superstitions as they in their frenzy and delusion call them-of the olden time.

The great unruly torrent of the sixteenth century, which in a day uprooted the united labors of many ages, was indeed a second deluge, not for the sudden destruction of one generation alone, but sweeping away the souls of men as quickly as they succeeded each other, for a period of time which still endures, and the termination of which, even after three hundred years of expiation, is known only to Him who afflicts us for the sins of our fathers and our own, until we confess our iniquities, and the iniquities of our ancestors, whereby they have transgressed against him, and walked contrary to him." (See Levit. xxvi.) And thus are we still visited with "the day of revenge;" and "who shall accuse thee, O Lord, if the nations perish which thou hast made?" "for thou shalt be justified in thy words, and shalt overcome when thou art judged."

Another consequence of the change, and a very important one too, has been, that it has disconnected its followers from all the saints and sages of venerable antiquity, and thrown us upon a dreary waste, in which the eye is refreshed neither by flower nor by fruit. It has cut them off from all affinity and relationship with any one saint in the calendar, whether native or foreign; from "spirits without a home and without a name" on earth, but who have inherited "an everlasting name" in the imperishable home of the blessed, for whom altars have been erected in every department of Christendom, and whose memories are enshrined in the hearts of all true believers. And what an unenviable position to be in! unable to claim any share in the glory of these

illustrious saints-with as wide a gulph between them as between Lazarus and Dives -compelled to acknowledge the value of, but without any partnership in the property, unworthy and unwilling to worship in the same temples in which they proffered their holy orisons, and in which they sacrificed the adorable mysteries, (unless perchance desecrated by the overthrow of both shrine and altar)—they are condemned to stand aloof in silent admiration at the crowds of faithful votaries who daily come to supplicate their intercession, with a devotion to which they remain wholly insensible. Should they not feel humiliated at the spectacle? Should it not startle them into reflection on the cause?-that they should find strangers where they ought to meet brethren-that they alone should be sceptics where all others are true believers? Why! it is a blessed thing to be associated with such beings, even in the humble position of suitors for their protection. What a wayward spirit must have taken possession of their minds, that they see it not! Hath not the Lord in his wrath, mingled for them the spirit of a deep sleep, and shut up their eyes? (Isaias xxix, 10.) How otherwise should they not discern the futility of their principles, which they declare to be calculated for unity and Catholicity. For are they not disunited every where, even in their own house; and are they not Catholics only amongst themselves? Let them but pass the limits of their own shores, and they are at once strangers in the land; they encounter an angel with a flaming sword at the gate of every sanctuary, because driven from the blessed plains of paradise in virtue of their disobedience, they are condemned to hard and unprofitable labor amongst the thorns and briars, and to wander like outcasts upon the face of the earth. Victims to their infidelity, they are alike aliens to a steadfast faith, as to a quiet conscience, and are become the inheritors of a vineyard which ever baffles their skill and refuses its produce. Every hand is against them, and their hand is against every other; their days are days of warfare, and the battle never ceases within their borders.

Even when at her best, there is something