23/04/2008

Robert Hugh Benson

A City Set on a Hill

(1905)

“The wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein” (Isa. xxxv, 8).

“Except ye… become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. xviii, 3).

Table of Contents

Notes

Introduction

I. Requirements of the Church’s Life and Efficiency

II. Various Theories of Catholicism

III. The Roman Catholic Theory of Catholicism

Appendix I

Appendix II

Testimony of Heretics to the Apostolic See

Notes

Note: Footnotes in the original text are indicated by square brackets [ ].

RHB wrote the first version of this pamphlet “a few months before my submission to the Holy See, that I might test the solidity of the reasons that were moving me in that direction both by studying them myself in black and white and by submitting them to the criticism of my friends.” In this work we see a number of features that will reoccur also in RHB’s later apologetical works, especially his focus on the “Religion of the Plain Man”, and the way he understands the Church, as the Mystical Body of Christ, recapitulating certain events in the life of Christ (cf. “Christ in His Church”). This e-text edition of “City Set on a Hill” is from the revised edition of 1905, published by the Catholic Truth Society.

Introduction

The following pamphlet is a somewhat fuller statement of a paper that I drew up a few months before my submission to the Holy See, that I might test the solidity of the reasons that were moving me in that direction both by studying them myself in black and white and by submitting them to the criticism of my friends. It is published now owing to the advice of other friends who think that it may prove useful to some who are hesitating. There are one or two things that ought to be said as matters of preface.

First, that I fully recognize that all that is possible to describe on paper is the most superficial part of one’s convictions. One can do no more than gather the straws that float on the surface, and try to trace the course and meaning of their movements; the real and only satisfactory motive for submission does not lie in these superficial things, but in the deep still current of faith that comes from God direct and bears the soul along. This I must say in order to disarm the criticism which shrewd minds will be able so easily to direct against this effort. It follows that I do not attempt to do more than state the case as it showed itself to me; matters of faith cannot be proved to demonstration. All that is possible for anyone to do is to try to direct people’s attention in a certain direction; and then if they see the thing indicated, they see it, and if not, not. Logic is a very powerless instrument in these matters; and if critics see gaps here and there, and unwarranted assumptions and faulty links, I would answer that I am not so foolish as to attempt to prove, but only to describe, what I saw and see. There is a wide tract of country to be traversed, and it is crossed by a bewildering number of roads. All that this paper attempts is to point out that two or three of them lead nowhere, and that one, in spite of difficulties, yet runs clear and continuous to the gate of the city.

Lastly, I am not so near-sighted as to think that what appears cogent to me must necessarily appear convincing to others; but I am encouraged to hope that the writings to which especially I owe all that is useful or suggestive in the following pages—and of which I give a list below—will be found to contain thoughts which may prove as intellectually convincing to others as they have done to me. So many thoughts from these books are embodied in this pamphlet that it would be an endless task to make more than this general acknowledgement.

Doctrine and Doctrinal Disruption, Mallock.

The See of Peter, Allies. (C.T.S.)

The Development of Christian Doctrine, Newman.

Reunion Essays, No. 1. Carson.

England and the Holy See, Spencer Jones.

I. Requirements of the Church’s Life and Efficiency

There are two main theories in Christendom as to the mode in which salvation is to be brought home to men. One, which we may roughly call the Protestant, is that the soul is saved directly and individually by Christ; the other, that the soul is normally saved through incorporation into a society which is His mystical Body. Of course neither theory wholly excludes the other. The Protestant so far allows the social claims of Christianity as to say that faith should issue in charity; and the Catholic so far allows the individualistic side as to say that the system of the Church inaugurates and fosters a personal relation of the soul to God without which it cannot be saves; but it is yet true to say that, roughly, the Catholic [At present I am using the word “Catholic” in this sense, and in no other.] theory is that the soul is saved through incorporation into a society, and the Protestant is that this incorporation is non-essential and secondary.

Throughout this paper I am assuming the Catholic theory; it is a vast controversy and beyond my object even to touch upon the further question; and, taking for granted that there is such a divine society and that this society has a supreme claim on man’s allegiance, I shall attempt to sketch the lines of thought that were useful to myself in my search of it.

Now there are many theories extant as to the nature and identity of this society, and every person who believes in its existence, and who approaches history and scripture, approaches them with a certain theory in his mind. He selects those incidents and movements that illustrate his own belief, and dismisses or explains away those that do not. The data of history and scripture are not so unmistakable but that they may seem to lend support to any theory. Since then every searcher after truth approaches his authorities with an hypothesis, I propose to do the same; but to form my hypothesis, not out of the authorities which are to be examined—for it is exactly those that are in question—but out of what seem to be requirements in a society that is to save the world, and which is the Body of Christ; and in these requirements I hope my readers will concur. It is a circular argument to say “I believe in the Roman Catholic Church, and I shall therefore select out of history and scripture all that favours my belief, and disregard the rest, and thus prove my theory”; it is far fairer to say, “I believe that the divine society, whatever it may be, will have certain marks by which I may identify it—marks which are to be found on other creations of the same divine Maker—and which correspond to the requirements of man’s soul, and therefore if I find in existence only one society which is thus marked, I shall accept it as divine.” All the “requirements” therefore are those which will arrive directly out of the very nature and objects of the society under discussion: namely, it is fair to say that a society which is to appeal to the world must be perceptible to the world, and that a society which is described in the scriptures as a “body” must be subject to some of the elementary laws that distinguish organisms from other things. [This is in no way to assume what needs proof. In every argument one or two axioms must be accepted as true; and in this case my axiom is that the metaphor of a “body” as applied to the Church cannot mean less than that it follows the elementary laws of other animated bodies. The Body of Christ is distinct from, though the vehicle of, the Spirit of Christ.]

1. Since the society is to save “the world” it must be recognizable by and evident to “the world.”—The Catholic theory is that the society is not merely a select body of spiritual or intellectual persons, but a great organism composed of all kinds of members, a net containing bad and good. It is to save the carnal man as well as to sanctify the spiritual man, and it saves by including him in itself; it must therefore appeal to the carnal as well as to the spiritual: it must have a “worldly” side. “Souls,” it has been said, “are led away by the senses, and must therefore be brought back by the senses.” That this requirement will lay the whole method open to the charge of worldliness and sensuousness is evident; but it must be remembered that the “Son of Man,” who came “eating and drinking,” and who sat at meat with publicans and sinners, had the same charges brought against Him even by men of high spiritual life. It is indeed an element of the whole system of the Incarnation and sacraments that God, to some extent, condescends to the level of man; to denounce the “worldly” side of the Church as unspiritual is but a step to denouncing the sacraments and the Incarnation for the same reason. The Church, like her Master and His ordinances, must have an earthly as well as a divine nature, if she is to do His work. Since God is approaching man, it is not a degradation but a triumph of His love that He should come so far down to meet him. Those who accept the Incarnation as the crowning achievement of an almighty Creator should find no difficulty in believing that God extends His love through all the centuries along the same lines, in the mystical Body of His Son, and that now, as in Judaea, Jesus is “divinest when He most is man.”

Now a primary requirement of the Church, if she is to appeal to the world, is that she should have an unity that the world will recognize. There are many kinds of unity, all very real and important in their several spheres, but not, all of them, equally obvious. For example, it is only in comparatively recent times that we have learnt even the elementary truth of the unity of man. In many countries even now they have not yet learnt, as Europeans have, the fraternity of the white and black races. Here then is a unity real and undoubted, which the whole world does not recognize. There is another kind of unity between all sentient beings—a mysterious bond that makes the millionaire and the shell-fish one; yet few millionaires and no shell-fish recognize it. Here is another real unity that the world, apart from physical science, does not perceive at all. But the world does very readily perceive the unity of the family and country. The passion of patriotism is an evidence of it. This is an unity of allegiance to a visible head, of organization, aims, customs, language and the like.

If then the world is to recognize the Church by her unity, it must be a unity of this kind—it is not enough that there should be a unity, however real, that is invisible to all who are not thinkers and spiritual persons. The Church must “be one” in such a sense “that the world may believe” that God sent Jesus Christ to found her. She must be one humanly as well as divinely; externally, naturally and visibly, as well as internally, supernaturally, invisibly (John xvii, 21). Otherwise she is but a “docetic” Church—divine possibly, but not really human.

One of the necessary elements of this kind of unity is a mutual subordination or obedience. Individuals cannot cohere closely unless they sacrifice something of their individuality; it is of the very essence of social life that the individual should be subordinated to the common good; and this is recognized by the world as a law of progress. More and more we are learning that competition, founded upon the conflicting interests of individuals, is in reality far less productive of wealth and enterprise than co-operation, involving though it does the constant apparent sacrifice of the individual to the common interests—that the individual, in fact, saves his life by losing it, and realizes the meaning of his own identity only by merging it in the common wealth. Hence we shall expect to find in the divine society what we find in all other effective societies—the subordination of the individual for the common, and ultimately for the individual good too. We shall find the principle of obedience as one of its most elementary and obvious marks.

2. The Church must be intelligible to the simple as well as to the shrewd.—It is possible for acute thinkers to imagine a social corporation in which all the individuals who compose it are equal; but for ordinary persons the only imaginable method of social order and government is that which tends towards some sort of a monarchy. The most thorough-going republicans cannot avoid the necessity of a president’s chair, and although the greatest pains may be taken to distinguish its occupant from a monarch, yet when all is done the differences lie chiefly in such external details as the insignia of office, his length of tenure and the claims of his son to succeed him. In reality he is a monarch—curtailed of privileges and uncrowned, but still a monarch. The pyramidal system of a constitutional monarchy, or of a house of representatives with a president, is intelligible to the simplest mind; for the pyramid, in social matters as well as in physical science, possesses peculiar powers. It is the most stable figure of all; it is easy of access and comprehension; and it confers a sense of finality and completeness beyond that which any other conception can offer.

Now this, we may notice in passing, although it does not strictly belong to this part of the paper, was our Lord’s own system. The disciples as a whole formed the lowest layer of His hierarchy; [It is perhaps better to notice here that our Lord nowhere repudiates the principle of the hierarchy; in fact He expressly makes it His own, for He gave to the various grades of His hierarchy very extraordinary and striking commissions. He promised thrones to twelve of them; gave the power of remitting sins to eleven; and bestowed the “keys of the kingdom of heaven” on one. What He repudiated and forbade for his followers was the bullying, tyrannical spirit—domineering, not domination.] from them He chose seventy and conferred a certain commission upon them; from them again twelve, with higher powers still; from them three who were nearest of all, and finally He Himself was supreme Kind and Ruler. So long as He was visibly upon earth the kingdom thus stood visibly form base to summit a “city set on a hill”; and we should expect [We are not assuming that our expectation is just, but only that it is natural.] then that just as He has left behind Him representatives of all His functions—priests who are so in virtue of His priesthood, preachers who represent His prophetical office—so He should have left behind Him one who should be the successor and representative of His kingship, who should fill in the visible kingdom that unique position that He filled when He was visibly upon earth. It is surely unreasonable to suppose that all His other functions have their visible representatives in priests and prophets, but that His supreme monarchy, the very climax and corner-stone that gives unity and stability to the whole, should not. To answer that earthly kings, or patriarchs and bishops in virtue of their patriarchal and diocesan authority, are representatives of His kingship, is to ignore the one quality that makes monarchy at all, namely, that it is held by one person. The numerical unity, as well as the authority and judicial functions, of His royalty should have its visible representative on earth if the kingdom is to be effective. And we notice further, explain it as we may, that our Lord, as if in preparation for the time when He should no longer be in visible presence upon earth, associated with Himself in a peculiar manner one of the three who were nearest to His person, and made use of extraordinary and unique expressions to—and in reference to—this person and his position (see Appendix I). But this line of argument cannot be followed out here without interruption of the scheme proposed, and we must leave it for the present.

3. The Church must follow the same lines of development as other living organisms.—An organism is like an organization in that it comprises a number of units, whether cells or atoms, combined into one whole; but what distinguishes it is that the combination of its units follows naturally a regular course of development corresponding with external circumstances that affect and assist it. One of the main principles of this course of development is that of assimilation. The difference between an organism and an organization in this matter is best seen by an illustration. A thirsty bird drinks water, and that water is taken up into his system and causes certain changes in it. It is transmuted into his substance—that is, he assimilates it. A box of sand also soaks up water, but does not assimilate it; the sand and the water remain exactly the same as they did before; the sand only absorbs the water.

Now the Church must have this power of assimilation. Since it is the Body of Christ it must develop in the same manner as other bodies; that is, it must unfold its own latent qualities and capacities by feeding upon such substances as will develop and bring them out.

But mere assimilation is not sufficient. To assimilate blindfold will sooner or later end in poisoning. If the Church is to be immortal she must have the power of discerning between poison and meat; otherwise, since there is falsehood in the world, it will be only a question of time as to when she will absorb and ultimately die of poison. This discernment, therefore, must be guaranteed by God Himself; if it is not she will either starve for fear of poison, or be poisoned through her own mistake. If then we believe that the Church is to be immortal, this would seem to imply necessarily that she is guaranteed against taking into her system anything that is deadly to her existence—in other words she must be infallible in matters of life and death, namely, in faith and morals.

But there is much in the world that is unhealthy without being deadly. In fact in every intellectual truth there is dross mixed. When the Church, therefore, takes an intellectual truth into her system (for example, a certain method of philosophy in which to express dogma) she is bound to absorb unhealthy matter too. But the process of digestion in every organism separates the healthy and useful from the harmful and useless elements. In the Church then we continually see heresies making themselves felt as the false elements of intellectual truth are being detached from the true; therefore, if her life is to be sound, she must have a power of rejecting form her system of theology all those elements that, absorbed into her system, have turned to corruption, and endanger instead of feeding her life. In other words, she must have the power of definition, of saying, “This is true, and I embody it; that is untrue, and I cast it out.” And, of course, this power must be active always; for otherwise the poison will remain in the system and lead to disease and death.

Again, the Church not only has a system of theology that she must feed and keep sound and healthy, but her body, which is Christ’s, consists of an innumerable quantity of individual cells, which are human souls. Occasionally, in every organism, some of the cells become dead and corrupt; for example, in the case of blood-poisoning, or when a wound has been received. If a body is to live it must have the power of casting these dead cells out of itself and replacing them by healthy ones. Gangrene is the result of the superiority of the dead over the living cells, and leads to the certain death of the whole body. Occasionally, then, in the Church, a soul becomes hopelessly infected with falsehood or sin; it is corrupt and a source of corruption to all about it. If it cannot be purified and reclaimed, it must be case out; and this is the power of excommunication. Unless the Church has this power in active working order, it means that she is beginning to become corrupt herself.

These four powers then—Assimilation, Discernment, Definition, Excommunication—are all essential to the Body of Christ; to be without them is to forfeit all claim to be an organism at all: to be unable to exercise them is to be an organism in a state approximating death.

To recapitulate, then, we have seen that it is necessary to approach the question as to where the divine society is to be found with some sort of a theory as to the way in which we shall recognize it when we see it. Since it is to convert the world, it must have on one side of it some characteristics that appeal to the world, of which the most obvious—and one which our Lord Himself lays down—is a unity that the world can see. Next, its system and organization must be of a kind that is natural to the world: in other words we should expect some sort of monarchy; and we noticed too, in passing, that this was the system pursued by our Lord when He was visibly on earth, and for which, seemingly, He made provision—or at least took such action as might easily be so interpreted. Then, since it is an organism—though the highest of all, for it is the Body of Christ—it must follow the laws of other organisms, and particularly that of growth; then we saw that growth means the unfolding of interior capacities through the assimilation of external substances; and that, if this process is not to end in death, it must be safe-guarded by, first, an unerring instinct against what is deadly, and next, a power of expulsion from the system of every unhealthy element that has been absorbed, and there are bound to be many such.

With these preconceptions to guide us in our search, we approach history and scripture. If we find that in these authorities there is no such society represented, we shall conclude that our analogies are faulty and misleading; that we have been so blinded by our earthly nature that we have no eyes for heavenly things, and that the Creator works with one set of principles in the order of nature and with another in the order of grace. If we find that there is such a society in history, but no indication of it in scripture, we shall have to conclude that human nature has been too strong, and that the high divine plan has been ousted or distorted by man’s demand for a Church that he can understand.

II. Various Theories of Catholicism

On looking out upon the actual facts of Christendom, we see two immense groups of Christians, each united on a certain point against the other. The one holds a certain theory of unity, the other as strongly denies it; the second is slightly the larger of the two. Now the fact that it is possible to find about 250,000,000 of people of every race, tongue, opinion and taste, who hold widely different views of almost very doctrine of the Christian creed, yet are strongly united on one point, seems to prove almost irresistibly that they are right. Surely nothing but an almost self-evident fact could so unite such widely-varying minds.

Then in the other and slightly smaller part of Christendom we find the equally astonishing phenomenon, that in this vital and fundamental matter of the theory of unity, over 200,000,000 of Christians assert that no other theory but their own, on which too they are passionately agreed, is scriptural, historical, or practical. At first sight then the probability, if numerical evidence is of value, is in favour of the former party.

But when we look more closely we see (1) that all that unites this former party is a negative agreement—a denial, not an affirmation. All these various believers are not united for a moment upon what is the true theory of unity, but upon what in their opinion is not. “We are not agreed,” they say, “except in saying ‘no.’” (2) That all the believers on the other side are united on a positive point—an affirmation. (3) That those who are united in their affirmation are united on every other point of doctrine too; while those who are united in a denial are disunited on almost every other point of doctrine. In other words, that the affirmative theory of unity confers doctrinal unity, the negative theory results in disunion: in brief, then, that the affirmative theory “works,” the other does not. And it is useful too to remember that in matters of this kind one piece of positive evidence is worth almost any amount of negative evidence. The fact that one man saw a falling star is of more evidential value than the fact that five thousand persons living in the same town did not see it. Without, therefore, going any further, we can see that the fact that 200,000,000 of people are agreed upon the papal theory of unity, and that this also confers doctrinal unity as well, is of enormously greater evidential value than the fact that 250,000,000 of people are agreed in denying this theory, who are not agreed on any positive theory of unity, and indeed on scarcely any doctrinal matter at all. For it is surely more true of theories even than of people—“By your fruits ye shall know them”; for theories are not subject to inconsistencies through being swayed by passion: and a positive theory of unity, I repeat, which confers doctrinal unity, has incalculably more claim on our faith than a negative theory that does not.

It is necessary, then, if we would bring our “requirements” to bear upon our material, to range the theories of unity that are actually in existence.

And first we may set aside “Protestantism” at once, at least in the sense in which it is used in this paper, because it has no theory; for it denies the necessity of the existence of such a society at all as that which we are considering. It claims, as has been said, that souls are saved in virtue of their personal relation to Christ, apart from their incorporation into His Church.

And next, we may set aside very quickly the Eastern claim, for it does not properly come to us Westerns as a practical matter at all. If the Eastern Church had an active propaganda in England and seriously claimed our allegiance, the case would be different: but apparently it, or rather they, have not convictions of the exclusive right of their theory of unity sufficiently strong to make them think it worth while to attempt to convince us of its truth. If they agreed that the Anglican theories of unity were in accord with their own, then again it might be necessary to examine the Eastern theory; but as a matter of fact their only contribution to the discussion is in their denial of the papacy—a contribution, we have seen, which from its negative character is of little importance compared with the positive theory on the other side. The moment too that we bring to bear upon the Eastern Church the elementary requirements of a living body, namely, that it demands a power of development and change, we see that it fails to satisfy that demand, for its chief pride, we always hear, lies in its unchangingness.

We pass on then as practical Westerns to various theories and claims evident in the Church of England. Here again we may set aside the “Broad Church” element; for, considered by itself, that party does not have any definite theory of unity at all. As Mr. Mallock points out, the essence of that party is that it denies the right of dogmatism, and this claim is exactly the reverse of that of Christianity, which, beyond all religions, is dogmatic and exclusive.

There are left in the Church of England two main parties, who divide the ground between them; and it is necessary to take their definitions and test them separately by what have appeared to be natural requirements of a Church that is to save by process of incorporation.

1. There is a large though decreasing body of persons, chiefly dignitaries, in the Church of England, who make their appeal to what they call “Primitive Christianity.” In their view the Church is a society founded by JESUS CHRIST and inspired with life by the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, whose office it is to preserve pure and undefiled the deposit of faith committed to it at the beginning. Since it is in the midst of a deceitful and wicked world, they say, this treasure is apt to become tarnished, mixed with dross, and even diminished; and when there is reason to fear that anything of this kind is happening, it is necessary to go back to primitive times and test the present by the past. “Back to the pure ages,” they say, “before human error or ambition or incredulity or superstition began to attack and spoil the deposit of faith.”

There would be less reason to distrust this appeal if it were not found that on occasions it had been necessary to reverse the process, and correct the past by the present. In the Lambeth Hearings, for example, we were told by one of the archbishops that reservation of the Blessed Sacrament had already begun to be practised superstitiously in quite the early days of the Church’s life—an argument that, of course, wholly invalidated his appeal to primitive Christianity.

This appeal then to primitive times assumes that the Church now is externally divided and corrupt in many of its branches; for example, in the matter of the Invocation of Saints, those who appeal to the primitive Church are accustomed to regard the whole of Eastern Christendom and over 200,000,000 of Western Christendom as hopelessly tainted. On the same theory of appeal, nearly all the rest of Western Christendom is even more hopelessly astray on such matters as confirmation, episcopal government and the like: there is only left a minute section of the Christian world which holds satisfactory views on all these points, and that is their own party. It is astonishing that persons of undoubted holiness and spiritual humility should be content to take up such an attitude.

Tested however by our first requirement, that the Church should be recognizable by, and evident to, the world, the divine society on this theory fails lamentably. The appeal is one which is possibly impressive, and certainly interesting, to historians and theologians; but to no one else. The world regards it as unpractical, and the world is right. On a matter of sheer history there will always be found eminent men ranged on opposite sides. On such practical subjects as the invocation of saints, non-communicating attendance, the age for confirmation, the need and circumstances of sacramental confession, the relations of priests to bishops, the position of the laity—on all these points and many others we find eminent students of the primitive age in strong disagreement: and these are matters, not speculative or merely intellectual, but practical and crying out for authoritative solution. Opinion is continually changing as to the belief and practice of primitive Christians on these matters: what our Tractarian forefathers denounced or suspected, their children are permitting and encouraging.

Again, the unity of the Church, on this principle, is of a double nature. (1) The visible unity of the primitive Church. This appears to the world as a very unpractical affair—the vision, it may be, of a golden age that shows no sign of returning, but that has been effectually darkened by the sins of men ever since. It has little or no effect upon a hot-blooded world which lives intensely in the present, with its eyes fixed upon the future and not on the past of fifteen centuries ago. Some scholars indeed are beginning to say, in despair, that the Church never yet has been visibly united: a more deplorable confession of the inefficacy of our Lord’s prayer it is hard to imagine. (2) The supernatural invisible unity of the present Church. Now the doctrine of the communion of saints is an article of the creed, but the preceding article has little meaning if this is all to which it is to be reduced. All that those who appeal to the past can say of the present is that far down, out of sight, there is a unity which no sin can break, and of which there is practically no evidence whatever. It is surely foolish to say that this is the unity, or anything resembling it, for which our Lord prayed; for He prayed that it might be of such a nature that the world might recognize through it the divine origin and mission of Himself; whereas, at the present day, the divided state of Christendom is the strongest excuse that the world can find for refusing to submit to His claims. If those who make this appeal are in the right, and the Church is what they think it is, we can only say that the exact opposite of that for which our Lord prayed has come to pass. “See,” says the world to-day: “if these are all true disciples, Christ cannot be God, for His work of uniting men in one fold has ended in the violent and complete disunion of His followers. How can His enemies be expected to submit to His reign of peace, if His friends do not?”

If obedience and mutual subordination too are necessary elements in this unity, again, on these principles, we have nothing but disaster; for their Church, instead of being held up as the model of discipline, is advised to look to the army and navy of England for a lesson. Anarchy is so rampant in a Church that has appealed for three centuries and still appeals in her prayerbook to the primitive Church, that Parliament is attempting to restore order in her affairs, and many of her own children are welcoming the interference.

Our next test was that the Church of JESUS CHRIST should be intelligible to the simple as well as to the shrewd. We have already seen that even to shrewd persons the Church on these principles is almost unintelligible, and it is especially so in her principles of government. The old theory that all bishops were equal has worked so badly that we see before our eyes to-day the process, of which the Roman communion has often been said to have been guilty—namely, of allowing one see to dominate unduly its fellows. Canterbury is fast becoming a patriarchate, if not a papacy, through sheer force of circumstances, not through deliberate programme. But this line can be more profitably discussed later on.

In another matter, the Church on these principles is unintelligible. The simple soul demands that there should be somewhere on earth an authority capable of telling him which of all of the conflicting assertions round him is the one to be believed. For example, an Englishman wishes to know whether or not he is to confess his sins before a minister once a month. He enquires of various clergy and bishops, and receives the following opinions: that it is no good confessing before a minister at all; that once a month is not often enough, it is advisable to go weekly; that he must go whenever he has fallen into really grave sin, but not otherwise; that he must not go unless he has done his utmost to satisfy his conscience, and failed; that he can do just what pleases him, for the Church of England leaves her children free. He inquires of those who appeal to the primitive Church, and is told that there are various opinions; he hears talk of “aspects” and “schools of thought”; in plain words he has fallen among “scribes,” when he desires one who will “speak with authority.” It is an elementary requirement of all simple souls that they should have somewhere an authoritative voice, consistent with itself and clear in its pronouncements. This of course does not involve an interference with the rights of the individual, far less an elaborate mapping out of what should be left indeterminate. The authority demanded need use no more formularies or catechisms than before, but it fearlessly states that there are some limits beyond which her children must not step—some interpretations that are forbidden—and it defines clearly what is of faith and what of opinion, so that a simple soul may tell himself, “I must believe this, if I am to remain loyal; I may or may not believe that as I please, and still remain loyal. This is necessary; that indifferent.”

Next, the Church, according to this theory, cannot properly be compared to an organism at all, because one of the very essential characteristics of an organism—“change”—is regarded by people who make the appeal to the primitive Church as a fault instead of a necessity. This theory denies development as a long continuous growth from age to age, from one kind of perfection to another, from infancy to manhood: the only sort of development which it allows is better rendered by some such word as “unfolding.” This process, it is believed, was practically finished in the first threeor four centuries, at which point an arbitrary line is drawn; and the rest of man’s duty is but to keep that unfolded Gospel pure from taint or corruption. The persons who make this appeal are continually referring us back. “It was said of them of old time,” they cry: never “But I say unto you.” The Church, on their showing, has no present authority, but only past pronouncements to which we must refer. If you ask her a question she can only give you the answer of a photograph, not of a living discerning brain; she can reiterate old truths; she cannot restate them in a new form suited to present needs. Individuals indeed can and do attempt to do this, but there is no present authority to check or encourage their efforts, to say whether they be loyal or not in their interpretation of the old standards. In a matter such as what is known as “higher criticism,” the process followed may or may not be consonant with the faith of a primitive age that knew nothing explicitly on the subject; but at any rate there is not even a claim to a living authority within her which can allow or disallow the process and its conclusions.

She lacks, therefore, if this theory is true, the power of assimilation; she dare not assimilate new material, for fear of poison. She cannot avail herself, at least with any security, of new discoveries offered to her; she cannot, for example, authoritatively accept or reject the conclusions of modern science; she shrinks from incorporating into her system new modes of worship, new philosophical methods of thought in which to express her adoration and faith to a modern generation, for fear of imbibing some element fatal to her existence; for she does not lay claim to that unerring taste that will inform her what is deadly falsehood and what is life-sustaining truth. And if, in spite of her unwillingness, she has some new method forced down her throat, she does not even claim to possess that power of definition with which she can reject from her system what will endanger her health if it is retained.

Again, if we regard her as a spiritual body composed of individual souls, she is unable on this theory to expel from her system any who once had a right in her but now have it no longer. For example, in the year A.D. 200, it was possible for a man whose ideas on the meaning of our Lord’s divinity were comparatively undetermined to claim a right ot remain in the Church’s communion, so long as he was willing to accept her creed as it then existed, and because a more exact definition was not then required of him: but in the year A.D. 400, when the Creed of Nicaea had been framed and accepted against the Arians, such an one would be compelled to accept it with its additional definitions, or be rejected as a heretic; and thus is shown the fact that what is permissible in a body that is undeveloped becomes unpermissible later on. But if there is no living voice by which, as new heresies and faulty interpretations increase, their adherents can be cast out, it is possible for souls to continue to accept the old formularies in an utterly unorthodox sense. That this is no dream is shown by the steady advance of Ritschlian opinions in the Church of England, by which clergy and others continue to repeat the old creeds, but interpret them in a novel and heretical sense.

On this theory, then, if it be pursued to its logical end, the Church becomes a kind of mechanical figure, founded to proclaim, always in the same terms, certain fixed and undeveloping dogmas, regardless of the ever-changing needs of the world. She is not, on this theory, an organism that grows from the seed to the oak, from the child to the “measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ”; she is rather full-grown at birth, and remains possibly divine but certainly inhuman, more or less fixed, but always subject to corruption; unable to adjucate on new problems, and only able to reiterate old truths, in an archaic manner, to a world that longs to have its problems understood and solved by one who is willing, as was our Saviour Himself, to condescend to the level of those whose intellects are to be informed.

2. The second theory in the Church of England as to the seat of authority may be named the appeal to a living consensus. On this theory the Church consists of various members, out of external communion with one another, but supernaturally and invisibly one. This, which used to be called the “branch” theory, is now being quickly supplanted by what may be called the “province” theory. Canterbury and York, so considered, are two provinces of the Catholic Church; the Eastern Churches offer several more, and the Roman Catholic again some others. Now the infallible guidance of the Holy Ghost, it is thought, is not promised to any of these branches or provinces individually, but only to all collectively. If therefore one or more provinces appear to dissent from the rest, their action must be interpreted so far as is possible by the action of the rest. Roughly speaking, whatever Rome, Moscow and Canterbury are agreed upon at any moment in history, is an infallible truth, whether or no it can be demonstrated that the entire Church explicitly believed the doctrine in question in primitive times; and further, whatever the Church (thus understood) is not agreed upon, is not of faith.

Before proceeding to test the theory by our requirements, it is well to recall Mr Mallock’s acute observation upon it. Is it not absurd, he asks, to base a large number of doctrines upon that which cannot support itself? The whole theory is suicidal—deadly to itself: for if the authority thus constituted—namely, Rome, Moscow and Canterbury in agreement—is questioned, it emphatically repudiates the very theory itself. Rome, Moscow and Canterbury each and all refuse to accept as the ground of faith their common agreement; how then is it possible to build a number of other doctrines upon this crumbling foundation? The whole erection of faith is founded on air.

But setting aside this root objection, and granting that the theory will stand, let us test it by our stated preconceptions. Is the Divine Society, thus understood, recognizable by or evident to the world? It is so little recognizable or evident that the world does not even believe in its existence at all on those terms. In spite of the theory, the world, with fatal obstinacy, persists in regarding the communions of Rome, Moscow and Canterbury as three separate and distinct things. Even those who profess their adherence to the theory have the greatest difficulty in grasping, and still more in expressing intelligibly, its nature and its workings. Innumerable and insoluble problems arise so soon as this theory descends from the air and becomes practical. When we ask whether the consensus implies a majority or a unanimity, we are met with various answers. When we point out that if it means the former, then the Arians were in the right in the fourth century; and that if it means the latter, Invocation of Saints, the Real Presence, Sacramental Confession, Baptismal Regeneration, were all uncatholic doctrines at the beginning of the nineteenth century, even if not now, because the testimony of Canterbury in their favour was wanting—we are met by confused replies. When we ask who are the voters, the hierarchy, or the bishops alone, or the entire body of the faithful?—or what is to happen if, as is the case, the majority of the bishops are in favour of the Pope’s supremacy, and the rest are divided as to the theory of unity?—when such practical questions arise, the theory is seen to be strangely unreal and unworkable.

If the organization of the Church be thus understood, the subordination among her members is equally incoherent; in fact, she may be said to have none, beyond that involved in regarding all bishops of equal authority; and in that case she would be but a collection of “cells” with no organic unity or central governance. But whether or no she would be an organism, at any rate the world would not—as a matter of fact does not—regard her as one; the claimed supernatural unity does not impress the world, for to its mind nothing could be more inadequate, unconvincing, unpractical and anarchical, than a large number of units of equal authority ruling, many of them, in defiance of their fellows, without even a nominal chairman—far less a real president—to restore order or give rulings or heal breaches, or even to settle the primary question as to who has a right to a seat at the committee-table and who has not. It is folly to say that such a system can be anything but an insoluble puzzle to the “wayfaring man.” Some, it is true, who hold the theory, freely assert that the successor of Peter should be chairman, though not of divine right; which is as much as to say that man has been forced by circumstances for which God did not provide, to amend the already existing inadequate divine arrangements.

An endless vista of further difficulties opens up; to mention one more will perhaps be sufficient. Devout scholars, adherents of this school, at the present time are stating that scarcely anything beyond the bare words of the Creed possesses the authority of the living consensus; in other words that there has been no real utterance at all from the consensus—no decision made with any other than local or temporary weight behind it—since the end of the fourth century. It seems then that after all we must be content with the appeal to the Primitive Church.

As regards the faculties of development in the Church thus understood, it would seem that there are no limits to them. The Church on this showing would be in the condition of a garden without a gardener. Any new weed may be planted, any old root may go spreading and stifling its neighbours, and there is no voice that can bid pluck up or prune or plant. She has not then the power of true assimilation, for she cannot take into herself the results of modern thought and give them an authoritative place in her system. Can any one such instance be given from the history of the last thousand years? She cannot exercise her power of definition even if she possesses it, or it is at least certain that she has not exercised it since primitive times; neither can she practically use her power of expulsion, since she does not speak with united voice, and what one part of her rejects another may accept, and there is no authoritative power of saying which of them is right. And lastly it is, at the least, exceedingly unlikely that she possesses any safeguard against fatal corruption, since she has not been immune from it in the matter of unity. Corruption, on the most favourable showing, has so far prevailed in her as to wreck her external unity beyond all possibility of recognition, except to the eyes of a few members of her smallest and most divided department, who are also the only persons who hold that theory of her existence.

III. The Roman Catholic Theory of Catholicism

The Roman Catholic Church now remains to be considered. We must ask ourselves whether or not she fulfils the requirements that nature demands of a Church, which, since she is human as well as divine, must condescend to a level at which man can perceive and appreciate her and her claims; and which, since she is an organism, must be constructed on the elementary lines characteristic of all other organisms. It must be stated first however that it is not asserted that other bodies besides the true Church do not possess any of its functions, or fulfil any of these requirements; but only that they do not possess them all, nor any in the same degree and orderliness.

First, then, she is evident to the world in a unique manner and degree; as a sign of this she presents to us, as specimens of her most devoted adherents, not only characters that have been raised by her means to heroic sanctity, but those who are remarkable for exceptional vice, upon whom she is beginning to exercise her power, and who cling to her as their one hope of salvation. In this matter the testimony of the outcast and abandoned sinner is as valuable a credential as that of the holiest saint; and again and again the sinner, both within and without her communion, witnesses that it is the Roman Catholic Church or nothing for him. Whether or no this testimony is always logical and well-founded does not affect the value of its evidence as to what the world, that is to be saved by the Church, thinks of her. In this, as in so many other things, she shares the reproach of her Master in being reputed to be the “friend of publicans and sinners.” And in this connection it may be added that, again like her Master, she arouses more resentment than any other religious teacher; it is the sure evidence of every overwhelmingly great personality to make the hottest friends and enemies: like Christ Himself, the Roman Catholic Communion either “has a devil” or is the child of God. [Of course it is answered to this, that she is indeed the friend and accomplice of sinners; that she retains, but does not redeem them, and that their presence within her boarders is a sign of her low moral standard. But to that again there are so many replies that it is impossible to do more than mention one or two. First, then, a statement of that kind must be justified by statistics, if it is to be advanced; and statistics in such a matter are impossible. Secondly, if she is accused of acquiescing in sin, it is the same taunt that our Lord suffered: for the Pharisees did not see His spiritual work, but only His “sitting at meat” and on friendly terms with sinners. It is obvious that if they had seen Him actually converting them to what they themselves considered proper dispositions, they would not have complained. Thirdly, it is obviously impossible to answer the opposite charges that the Church excommunicates both too much and not enough!]

She is then evident to the world; and if there is one element above others that gives her this power it is her unity. It is perceived and admired even by a world that rejects her claims: her unity needs no faith, or imagination, or elaborate argument for its perception; it is glaring and obvious. A sense of unreality invades the mind when controversialists and special pleaders attempt to distract attention from this amazingly serene unanimity to the violent struggles that are supposed to rage below the surface. If it is true that struggles and intrigue go on out of sight, is it not an evidence in itself of her divine origin that they are not permitted to disturb her outward peace—that peace which is so necessary to her effectiveness in action? And again, the fact that to some extent controversies do exist within her borders is an evidence that her unanimity is not a result of deadness, and that the intellectual thought of her children is not fettered in the manner commonly argued by her enemies.

It is, in fact, we may notice in passing, very strange to observe the way in which accusations are brought against her from exactly opposite quarters. “She is at peace,” cries one controversialist, “the peace of intellectual bondage and a policy of unnatural repression”: “she is in furious discord within her borders,” cries another; “you will not find in her the rest for which you long.” “She uses her intellect in matters of faith; her scholastic theology is the offspring of an unnatural union between faith and logic,” says one: “she is blindly superstitious and crushes the intellect,” says another. “She is too severe and exact about sins and their degrees of guilt,” says one, “and leaves no room for the free spirit of the children of God”: “she is lax and easy about sin and its awful consequences,” says another, “and is far too indulgent to those who persist in it.” “She is too stiff and formal in her worship, praying in an unknown tongue, making religion consist in outward observances,” cries the Evangelical: “she is hopelessly unliturgical,” cries the scholar, “and is continually making concessions to vulgarity and popular taste.” “She is rigid and unchanging,” says the scientist, “and does not move with modern thought”: “she is hopelessly innovating and modern in the way in which she sweeps up and embodies popular fancies in her theology,” cries the patristic scholar. In other words, she is too peaceful and too stormy; too intellectual and too superstitious; too severe and too lax; too stiff and too elastic; too conservative and too radical; too narrow and too broad! Could her warmest lover desire more convincing evidence of the Catholic and wide-hearted claims of his mistress than these fiercely conflicting testimonies of her foes?

But to return. It is said that the more evident her unity, the more plain it is that it is the result of intrigue and good management. Then why is that not also true of another of her marks, sanctity? Sanctity, like unity, is none the less supernatural because it visibly “shines before men” and causes them to “glorify their Father which is in heaven,” who, being the One and Holy God, is the source of all sanctity and unity. Her unity then is of a character that will appeal to all men—the most foolish of wayfaring men can see it; the very world, to whose testimony in this matter our Lord appeals, recognizes it; and it needs the most ingenious theologians and historians among her enemies to explain it away.

This unity, too, if we follow our scheme, is especially illustrated by the obedience that prevails within her fold. In the midst of a disobedient world this grace of hers shines out. This phenomenon, like her unity, needs the most ingenious hypotheses to explain it away. By some English controversialists it is supposed to be mechanical, unspiritual, soul-destroying, just as her sacraments are supposed to be so by others; just as the very Atonement itself is said to be by yet others. It is, of course, an old device of controversialists, if it is impossible for them to deny a fact, to say that it is wrought by Beelzebub. Yet, to less subtle minds, it remains one of her most convincing credentials that, like her Master, she not only “commands with authority” the stormy wills of men, but that “they obey” her.

Again, her constitution and organization are intelligible to the feeblest mind: they have about them an air of elementary simplicity that draws out our confidence. Men who are bewildered by a system of equal episcopal government are satisfied by a papacy—by a monarchical court of final appeal, by a single coping-stone that crowns and unites into an orderly whole the great surfaces of the pyramid beneath. History too seems to tell them that they are right in their confidence; for, as a matter of undeniable fact, those who have accepted this claim have remained in marvellous unanimity on all other doctrinal points too; while those who have rejected it have gone on splitting, apparently indefinitely, ever since. In fact as well as in theory, it is the one stable principle of ecclesiastical government. There is no other communion in Christendom that has a unity even resembling hers; and sects that at the present time seem to be approaching reunion are only doing so by dropping the distinctive principles that gave them birth.

Her claim too is intelligible, and is the same for the wise as for the ignorant; it is that every soul should make a simple act of faith in her; she does not offer an elaborate scheme of doctrine and demand the intellectual assent of her children to every detail explicitly; she says that it is sufficient to make the implicit act that contains all. In itself, then, what she asks is a moral and not an intellectual act—a moral act which is equally open to all, not an intellectual act in the performance of which the clever and educated man has an advantage. The reasons that lead up to that act are various for various persons—to whom much is committed, from him much is required; many paths lead to that door, but the actual entrance through which all must pass who make a true submission to her claims is identical for every soul. Thus, in the essential act of submission, salvation is equally at the disposal of all; and the moral faith of a charcoal-burner is as pleasing to God as that of St Thomas Aquinas.

We pass on to her claim to be the organism called the Body of Christ; and here too we find that the facts correspond startlingly to our requirements.

As has been said, with all her rigidity and stability (so marked that they are her reproach) she moves with modern thought, and develops in her own life in the act, in a manner in which no other communion even claims or attempts to move. She is the one communion that fearlessly carries on the process of the first centuries, and continues to sum up from time to time, by clearer and clearer definitions, either through her councils or her head, the deposit of faith as it unfolds its contents in response to outward demand. The process goes on continually within her of sifting and assimilating the movements of theological, philosophical and ethical thought at her disposal; and then, every now and again, when each stage is complete, she defines, that is, she authoritatively sanctions or rejects, the various elements before her. She does this both deliberately and fearlessly, so that, as has been said, her enemies accuse her of being now too conservative, now too radical.

In other words, she exhibits exactly the two principles of organic growth, namely, identity and change. For an acorn to become an oak two conditions are required: (1) That the continuity of the life-principle should be preserved, that the acorn should remain that acorn; (2) that the form in which the life-principle lies should not be preserved—that the acorn should cease to be the acorn. In that paradox lies the whole story of growth. The acorn must remain the same, and yet must absorb into itself, to the complete apparent destruction of its whole form, its wholesome surroundings. Thus the seed sown at Pentecost must remain continuously as the life-principle of Catholicism, yet itself, in one sense, disappears, for its organic growth depends not upon its remaining the same in appearance or even in proportion, but upon its possessing, together with its own identity, the power of assimilating its surroundings. Philosophies, methods of pagan worship, human doctrines, science, metaphysics, music, art, architecture, poetry, language—all these and other elements lie like soil about the seed, and are being continually assimilated, transformed and immortalized in the substance of Catholicism.

But to do this, without perishing of poison, requires an unerring instinct to distinguish the deadly from the life-sustaining elements; without it, sooner or later, some deadly falsehood would have long since been taken up into the Catholic system, and commonsense, no less than Revelation, promises the eternal Church this endowment of infallibility. And the Roman communion is the only part of Christendom that unfalteringly and intelligibly claims it.

This endowment, then, of infallibility, is the sole condition on which she can claim absolute and unreserved obedience; and it is this very claim, so audacious yet so attractive, that enables her to claim not only to follow, but to be identified with Christ. As to Him, so to her who is His Body, absolute obedience is the only road of salvation when once her claim is heard. To claim less than this is to range herself among human societies; and a communion like the Church of England, which expressly states that even general councils are subject to error in matters of faith, while she may retain our affection and tenderness, cannot possibly claim or receive our intelligent confidence.

But, as has been seen, unhealthy elements must enter the Church’s theological system from time to time; for example, books are issued within her pale that are false in that they are exaggerations or misstatements of some detail of her religion; hence it is necessary that she should possess a function for disowning them. Again, from time to time, certain souls within her become hopelessly corrupt in faith or morals, and a source of danger to the whole body of which they form part: if she is to remain healthy, she must have some function for casting them off. These two needs, then, are precisely supplied by the very two institutions that, perhaps, more than any others, cause the world to rage against her, namely, the Index and Excommunication. It is just because the world does not perceive that she is an organic creation—the mystical Body of Christ that it does not understand the need she has of cleansing from her systems of theology and corporate existence the poison that is bound to accumulate within them owing to her very function of saving sinners and teaching truth.

Lastly, her unique claim demands special consideration to be paid to the line of her internal development.

As Mr Carson points out, it proceeds along the lines that the discovery of evolution and the science of embryology have led us to expect. For the first few ages of her existence it is difficult to distinguish clearly even the most important principles of her life and economy. In the scriptures, for example, where she is found, as all will confess, in a state of almost protoplasmic existence—for even the diaconate and episcopate appear very different from their present condition—it is true that, when we have been told where and how to look, we can distinguish her head and limbs, but they are very incoherent. [I give at the end two appendices of passages on Peter’s prerogative which indicate, with perhaps even more distinctness than we should expect, the principles of her government. Its gradual clear emergence is recognized even by Protestant historians in the subsequent course of history, though they would call it by another name.] The ages, then, immediately after the New Testament closes are, as we should expect from the analogy, a record of incoherence approaching coherence. To say that St Polycarp was an “Ultramontane” may be ridiculous; but to say that he would not have become one if he had lived a few centuries is even more ridiculous. A child is not a man, but he becomes one if he lives.

At first then we see that the rudimentary limbs—the outlying provinces, bishops, councils—move uncertainly, independently, sometimes inconsistently; for, though the head was there, the whole body had not yet fully grasped its supremacy and all that it meant. Then, gradually, as external events began to demand development, development came. Soon strict episcopal government and diocesan government became necessary for peace and order, as St Ignatius of Antioch indicates: then patriarchates emerge, as profitable methods of government; and lastly, as the Church came into touch with more varied, more absorbing and more wide-reaching interests, and began to expand itself more distantly, centralization became more and more imperative; and at last the head, which had been there all the while, realized itself unmistakably as supreme and authoritative. There are still of course spasmodic and rebellious movements of the limbs, and there will always be to the end; and such movements are less under control, naturally, in childhood than in manhood: but henceforth, the more perfect the development and self-control of the body, the more supreme and authoritative will be the head. The had, for example, is more, and not less, free and capable, the more completely it is under the control of the brain. Individual rights, then, detached from the governing function, must tend to disappear. Those who protest against the “encroachments” of the head would seem to do so, then, because they do not believe the Church to be an organic body at all, but merely a collection of individuals into a society. [It has been pointed out to me that I do not treat of the view that since the Church beyond the veil is invisible, therefore the Head of the whole Body should be invisible too. Of course it is true, and our Lord is that Head. But we are engaged now in considering the Church on earth, which a kind of “pattern of the things shown in the mount”—a visible presentation of invisible truth; and it is surely natural enough that since Christ’s other invisible functions are exercised by His visible ministers on earth, so too should be His monarchy. That is all that the phrase “Vicar of Christ” signifies. Pius X does not claim to have jurisdiction over the saints in glory!]

On this analogy, then, it will be seen that we do not even desire to be able to recognize exactly, in the early ages of the Church, the modern Roman Catholic system which is the proper successor of the more incoherent scheme; and to require it of her is to ask her to show herself a precocious monster instead of an organism that develops on orderly lines.

Again, to trace the rise of this or that function from the demand of some external event that appeared to call it out, as is the practice of Protestant controversialists, does not tell at all against the Church’s claim. The power to jump, in a boy who has not yet attempted it, is certainly elicited, but not created, by the presence of a mad bull in the field where he is walking. In the same manner the assertion of the rights of the papacy, as we now understand it, was certainly not made in the earliest ages until a necessity arose that demanded it.

But it may be said that all this is mere assertion; and that as a matter of fact the papacy is a deformity, a “gigantic wen,” as a Protestant scholar expressed it, and not a true development at all. Perhaps the best answer is to ask which is the more likely to be a deformity, an orderly head to which the limbs submit thankfully, and which confers peace and concord on its obedient members; or a rending and tearing of the whole body so cruelly that the world is shocked and does not recognize the mangled thing to be a body at all? And yet, for the Protestant, the choice is between these two.

On these terms, then, the cases of St Meletius and others prove nothing. In one sense, of course, it has always been necessary to be in communion with Rome to be in communion with the Catholic Church: but it does not follow that a full consciousness of that necessity has always been present. A baby disinterestedly examines his own foot, scarcely realizing that it is his; for, although the whole organism is there, bound by exact laws and conditions, yet the clear consciousness of those laws is only gradually arrived at. There may be, no doubt, still many necessary laws of the Church’s being, of which neither pope nor council has yet been aware; but as time goes on, these laws will be gradually recognized, first by brilliant individuals, then by students of thought; then, finally examined and approved by infallible authority, they will pass from the implicit to the explicit sphere, until we all come to the “measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ,” and the consciousness of the body coincides perfectly with the mind of Christ, and we all “know as we are known.”

Appendix I

As regards the Petrine texts appended below, it is interesting to note the following points:

1. Their full recognition has been of comparatively late date. By divine guidance St Peter himself sought the city and established his see just where he would gain all the aid that natural and human surroundings could give him for the swift and sure development of the final supremacy of his Chair. This supremacy was no more the result of mere worldly circumstances than the healthy growth of a tree is the result of the mere soil in which its seed once found a congenial home. If the authority on the one hand, and the seed on the other, had not existed, neither the Chair of Peter nor the tree would have emerged.

It was not, then, until the head had been fully established as supreme over the body that men had eyes to see how it had been so ordained and indicated from the beginning. After it had come to pass it was seen to have been inevitable. All this is parallelled, of course, by the ordinary course of affairs. Laws of nature, as well as laws of grace, act quite apart form man’s perception or appreciation of them; and it is not until the law is recognized that its significance and inevitability, its illustrations and effects, are intelligently recognized either.

2. The weight of the following list of passages rests in its cumulative force. The direction of one or two or even three straws falling in a certain direction may be the result of a chance draught; thirty straws all falling in one direction practically indicate a steady wind.

1. St Peter’s name occurs first in all lists of apostles (Matt. x, 2; Mark iii, 16; Luke vi, 14; Acts i, 13).

2. He alone receives a new name, solemnly conferred (John i, 42).

3. The name he receives is peculiarly inapplicable to his personal character and history; presumably, therefore, it is applied to his official position, and, moreover, it embodies a metaphor which is specially applied by him to Christ in an analogous sense (I Peter ii, 4-8; cf. Matt. xxi, 42).

4. He is the first to confess Christ’s divinity; and receives special promises, namely, (a) “On this rock I will build My Church”; (b) “The keys of the kingdom of heaven”; (c) he alone is told that he has received divine knowledge by a special revelation (Matt. xvi, 17-19).

5. He is treated by the world as Christ’s representative; and he is so accepted by Christ, who by an unique miracle specially associates together Himself and Peter (Matt. xvii, 24ff).

6. From his boat Christ teaches; and the miraculous draught and its interpretation follow that incident (Luke v, 3ff).

7. He is indicated as being the object of Christ’s special prayer, distinct from the others (“Satan hath desired to have you… I have prayed for thee…”) and as the support of the others (Luke xxii, 31, 32).

8. He was the first of the apostles to set out for and, in spite of his age, to enter the empty tomb (Luke xxiv, 12; John xx, 6); and he is distinguished by the angel as the leader and representative of the rest (Mark xvi, 7).

9. He leads the apostles in fishing (John xxi, 2, 3)—a significant metaphor.

10. He alone casts himself into the sea to come to Jesus (John xxi, 7).

11. He alone receives a special three-fold commission as vicar of the Good Shepherd (John xxi, 15ff); and he is addressed by Christ as if in some special sense he was to abide till Christ’s second coming (john xxi, 22).

12. He takes the lead in filling up the vacant apostolate (Acts i, 15).

13. He first preaches at Pentecost and summons men to salvation (Acts ii, 14); and is accepted by the world as the leader and interpreter of the rest (Acts ii, 37, 38, 41).

14. He works the first church-miracle, even though associated with John (as if to show his official relation as distinguished from John’s personal relation to Christ) (Acts iii, 1-10); and comments on it to the crowd (Acts iii, 12).

15. He is the defender of the Church before the rulers (Acts iv, 8ff).

16. He utters the first anathema, and it is ratified markedly by God (Acts v, 2-11).

17. His shadow, alone among all, works miracles (Acts v, 15).

18. He is the first to raise the dead (Acts ix, 40).

19. He is indicated by God as the proper person to apply to for instruction and baptism; and is the first to receive the Gentiles (Acts x, 5, 34, 47).

20. He receives an unique three-fold revelation (Acts x, 10ff).

21. He instructs the other apostles on the catholicity of the Church (Acts xi, 5-17).

22. He is the object of the first divine interposition on behalf of an individual; and is rescued from death when another apostle is killed (Acts xii, 5-17).

23. He opens the first Council, and lays down principles afterwards accepted by it (Acts xv, 7-11).

24. St Paul mentions the appearance to Cephas as first in importance (I Cor xv, 5).

25. St Paul goes to visit him, specially, at Jerusalem, considering him of more importance than James the local bishop (Gal. i, 18).

26. St Paul twice speaks of resisting him, as if it were a very serious step (Gal. ii, 11, 14).

27. He is spoken of as if in some sense distinct from the rest, many times (Mark i, 36; Luke ix, 28; Acts ii, 37, and v, 29, etc.); and he is often the spokesman for the rest.

28. He is spoken of as the first of the inner three several times (Matt. xvii, 1; Mark v, 37; Matt. xxvi, 37, 40; Mark xiv, 37).

29. He himself refers twice to the “shepherding” of Christ; as if this function of his Master’s were much in his mind (I Pet. ii, 25, and v, 4; cf. John xxi, 15).

Appendix II

Here are a few specimens—made accessible to me by the kindness of Dom John Chapman, O.S.B., who put his papers at my disposal—of the sayings of the fathers, councils and others. Surely they are sufficient to prove that the primacy of Peter existed and was recognized, at least in a rudimentary form, in the first four and a half centuries—sufficient for this argument.

1. St Clement of Rome writes, A.D. 96:

“If any should disobey the things spoken by Him through us, let them know that they will involve themselves in no light transgression and danger.” Ad Cor. c. 59, 1.

(Bishop Lightfoot describes this letter of St Clement to the Corinthians as “the first step towards papal aggression.”)

2. St Irenaeus, A.D. 185, writes of Rome that:

By “pointing out… that ‘faith announced to all men’ (Rom. i, 8), which through the succession of her bishops has come down to us, we confound all those who in any way, whether through caprice, or vainglory, or blindness, or perverse opinion, gather otherwise that it behoveth. For with this Church, on account of her more powerful headship, it is necessary that every Church, that is, the faithful everywhere dispersed, should agree (or “come together”); in which Church has always been preserved that tradition which is from the apostles.”—Haer. iii, 3.

3. St Cyprian writes, A.D. 251, of certain heretics:

“After all this, and having had a bishop set up for them by heretics, they dare to set sail, and to carry letters from schismatic and profane persons to the Chair of Peter and the primatial Church, whence sacerdotal unity had its rise; nor do they consider that those are the Romans whose faith was celebrated by the praise of the apostle (cf. Rom. i, 8), and to whom unfaith cannot have access.”—Ep. lix, 14.

4. The Council of Arles writes, A.D. 314, to Pope Silvester:

“Since you have been unable to leave those parts, where the apostles also sit daily, and their blood testifies without intermission the glory of God…”—Mansi, ii, 469.

5. St Athanasius, A.D. 339, appeals to Rome and goes there; and Socrates, A.D. 439, thus writes of it:

“Eusebius, having accomplished what he desired, sent an embassy to Julius, Bishop of Rome, calling upon him to be the judge of the charges against Athanasius, and to summon the case to himself.”—Hist. Eccl. ii, 11.

Sozomen, A.D. 450, writes thus:

“Eusebius wrote to [Pope] Julius that he should be judge of what had been decreed at Tyre.”—Hist. Eccl. iii, 7.

Theodoret, A.D. 450, thus describes it:

“He [Pope Julian] following the law of the Church, both ordered them to repair to Rome, and also summoned the divine Athanasius to judgement.”—Hist. Eccl. ii, 4.

6. The Council of Sardica, A. D. 346, writes:

“For this will seem to be best, and by far the most proper course, if the bishops of the Lord, from every province, shall refer to the head, that is, the See of Peter.”—Letter to Pope Julius. Mansi, iii, 40.

7. St Gregory of Nazianzum, A.D. 307:

“The faith [of Rome] was of old, and still is now, right, binding the whole west by the saving word: as is just in her who presides over all, reverencing the whole harmonious teaching of God.”—Carmina de vita sua, 569-72.

8. St Jerome, c. A.D. 376, writes to Pope Damasus:

“I am linked in communion with thy Blessedness, that is, with the Chair of Peter. On that rock I know that the Church is built. Whoso shall eat the Lamb outside this house is profane… Whoso gathereth not with thee scattereth; that is, he who is not of Christ is of Antichrist.”—Ep. xvi.

9. The Council of Aquileia, A.D. 381, writes:

“We… beseech your clemency not to allow the Roman Church, the head of the whole Roman world, and that most holy faith of the apostles, to be troubled; for from thence the rights of venerable communion flow forth to all.”—St Ambrose, Ep. xi, 4.

10. The Council of Rome under Damasus, A.D. 382, writes:

“Although all the Catholic Churches in the world are one bridal chamber of Christ, yet the holy Roman Catholic Apostolic Church has been preferred to the other Churches by no synodical constitutions, but has obtained the primacy by the voice of our Lord and Saviour in the Gospel, saying, ‘Thou art Peter, and upon this rock… loosed in heaven.’”—See C. H. Turner in Journal of Theol. Studies, Jan. 1900.

11. St Optatus, A.D. 385:

“That in that one Chair [established by Peter] unity might be preserved by all… and that he might at once be condemned as a schismatic and sinner who against that pre-eminent Chair should place another. Therefore in that one Chair, which is the first of the prerogatives, Peter sat first, to whom succeeded Linus: to Linus, Clement;… Siricius… with whom the whole world is in accordance with us in the one bond of communion, by the intercourse of letters of peace.”—ii, 2.

12. Pope Siricius, A.D. 385:

“… You referred to the Roman Church as to the head of your body… in me that burden is borne by the blessed Apostle Peter, who, we trust, in all things protects and has regard to us who are the heir of his government.”—Ep. i, 20.

13. St Augustine, A.D. 391:

“I am held by the succession of bishops from the very Chair of Peter the Apostle, to whom the Lord commended His sheep to be fed, up to the present episcopate; lastly, I am held by the very name of Catholic, which, not without cause amid so many heresies, this Church alone has retained, in such sort that whereas all heretics wish to be called Catholics, nevertheless to any stranger who asked, ‘Where is the meeting of the Catholic Church held?’ no heretic would dare to point out his own basilica or house.”—C. Ep. Manich. Fundam. iv, 5.

Again he writes, after quoting a letter of Pope Innocent, A. D. 429:

“Do you see what the Catholic faith holds by her minister?”—Op. imperf. vi, 11.

Again at Carthage he said, A.D. 417:

“Already two councils have been sent to the Apostolic See concerning this matter, and rescripts have come form thence. The case is concluded: would that the error would soon cease also.”—Serm. 131, 10.

14. Pope St Anastasius, A.D. 401:

“I will certainly not be wanting… to call upon the parts of my body throughout the various regions of the world…”—Ep. 1. ad Joann. Hieros.

15. Paulinus of Milan, A.D. 417, writes to Pope Zosimus:

“Let that which… has been publicly brought to light, be now cut off by your Holiness with the spiritual sword, that the flock of the Lord [= the whole Church] which you govern as a good shepherd… may no longer be torn by this wild beast’s teeth.”—Op. S. Augustini, vol. x, Appendix, p. 1,724.

16. Pope St Innocent, A.D. 417:

“You decided that it was proper to refer to our judgement, knowing what is due to the Apostolic See”… “You have… preserved the customs of the Fathers, and have not spurned that which they decreed by a divine and not human sentence, that whatsoever is done, even though it be done in distant provinces, should not be ended without being brought to the knowledge of this See; that by its authority the whole just pronouncement should be strengthened; and that from it all other Churches (like waters, flowing from their natal source and flowing through the different regions of the world, the pure streams of one uncorrupted head) should receive what they ought to enjoin.”—St Aug. Ep. 181.

17. Pope St Zosimus, A.D. 417, writes:

“… We must pray incessantly that, by the continual grace and unceasing assistance of God, from this fountain [the Apostolic See] the peace of faith and of Catholic brotherhood may be sent into the whole world.”—Ep. ii.

18. Pope St Boniface, A.D. 419, writes:

“Never was it lawful to discuss again any matter which had once been decided by the Apostolic See.”—Ep. xiii.

19. Pope St Celestine, A.D. 422:

“We, on whom Christ has, in the person of holy Peter the apostle, when He gave him the keys to open and shut, imposed as a necessity to be engaged about all men…”—Ep. iii.

20. Council of Ephesus, A.D. 431, writes in sentence of deposition against Nestorius:

“Whereas [etc.]… we being necessarily compelled by the sacred canons and by the letter of our most holy Father, Bishop Celestine, Bishop of the Roman Church, with many tears have arrived at this sad sentence against him.”—Mansi, p. 1,212.

21. Pope St Sixtus, A.D. 434:

“The blessed Peter, in his successors, has delivered that which he received.”—Ep. vi.

22. St Vincent of Lerins, A.D. 434, writes:

“Pope Stephen, of blessed memory, prelate of the Apostolic See, together with the rest of his colleagues indeed, yet above the rest, resisted; thinking, I ween, that it was right that he should conquer all by the devotion of his faith as much as he surpassed them by the authority of his place.”—Common. vi.

23. Pope St Leo, A.D. 450:

“By the See of blessed Peter, made the head of the universe, thou (O Rome) mightest rule more widely by divine religion than by earthly empire” (Serm. 82). “… The first of all Sees… the Head… that See which the Lord appointed to preside over the rest…” (Ep. cxx). “The care of the universal Church should converge to the one See of Peter, and no part at anywhere be at variance with its Head.”—Ep. xiv.

24. Council of Chalcedon, A.D. 451, writes in the sentence of deposition, read by the papal legates and signed by all the bishops, against Dioscorus:

“Wherefore the most holy and blessed archbishop of great and elder Rome, Leo, by us and by the present holy synod, together with the thrice blessed and glorious Peter the apostle, who is the rock and base of the Catholic Church, and the foundation of the orthodox faith, has stripped Dioscorus of the episcopal… dignity.”—Mansi vi, p. 1,046.

And the Council writes to Pope Leo:

“The bishops… over whom you presided as a head over the members…”—Op. S. Leonis, Ep. 98.

And of Dioscorus:

“He [Dioscorus] stretched forth his madness against him who was entrusted by the Saviour with the guardianship of the Vine—we mean your Holiness…” [and further with regard to the twenty-eighth canon] “… We beg you honour the judgement with your decision also; as we have added our consent to the Head in all good things, so let the Head fulfil what is befitting towards the children…” [and further] “… We have made known to you the whole tenour of the business, for our own defence and for the confirmation and approval of what has been done by us.”—Ibid.

25. Anatolius, Patriarch of Constantinople, A.D. 451, writes to Pope Leo with reference to the Council of Chalcedon:

“This decree the holy synod and we have referred to your Holiness in order to obtain from you approval and confirmation… For the throne of Constantinople has your apostolic throne as its father.”

Testimony of Heretics to the Apostolic See

Heretics who came to Rome, seeking recognition, in second and (early) third centuries:

Valentinus, Cerdo, Marcion, Appelles, Potitus, Basilicus, Syneros, Marcellinus, Theodotus, Artemon, Praxeas, Epigonus, Cleomenes, Sabellius, Alcibiades of Apamea.—(See Caspari, Quellen zur Gesch. des Tauf-Symbols, vol. iii, pp. 309-348.)

Tertullian, A.D. 210, as a heretic, protests ironically against the Roman claim thus:

“The Sovereign Pontiff—that is the Bishop of bishops—issues and edict…” and protests that the Lord only intended the prerogative to be personal to Peter; thus witnessing to the Pope’s claim to have succeeded to it.—De Pudicitia, 1.

Pelagius, A.D. 417, writes to Pope Innocent:

“We desire to be corrected by you, who hold both the faith and the See of Peter. If, however, this confession of ours is approved by the judgement of your apostleship, then, whoever desires to blacken me will prove not me to be a heretic, but himself unskilful, or else ill-willed, or even not a Catholic.”—St Aug., vol v, appendix, p. 1,716.

Celestius, A.D. 417, writes to Pope Zosimus:

“We offer to be approved by the judgement of your apostleship, in order that if by chance any error of ignorance has crept in upon us, being but men, it may be corrected by your decision.”—St Aug. De Pecc. Orig. xxiii, 26.

The End

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