FATHER NEWMAN AND MYSTIFICATIONS.- NO. IV.

Sur I was meditating a letter upon the-alleged " Catholic tendencies " of Edmund Burke, in order to complete my consideration of Mr. Newman's sweeping plausibilities,. when I received your number for September 27th; in. which " W. M." suggests that I might do good service bytaking up and ex- posing a further and more serious statement of Mr. Newman's, asserting that " for the truth of the Romish System" we have as high an amount of proof "as for the rule of right and- wrong," for " the being of a God," or "for any other truth of natural religion"!

W. If. could not be aware, when he wrote, that one of your corre- spondent's besetting fa-dings is a tendency to argue eases, of metaphysic theology • but ha should have remembered, that when A. B. It. originally

asked a place-in your columns, it was on the understanding that "would not enter on the theological dispute at all." I did think that I could in a popular manner dissipate some few of those astounding fallacies which Mr. Newman has been throwing as controversial dust into the eyes of the peo- ple of England: whether I have in any measure succeeded, your. readers must determine ; but I hold it quite another thing to enter on a subject which to treat duly might involve an elaborate argument upon truths lying at the basis of all religion—to borrow an expression of Mr. Newman's own "it would be easier. to.write. a book" than intelligibly- to compress any Buell discussion within the cempass.of a letter. My. leisure is not superabundant: a. working clergyman in care of a parish, and with other ecclesiastical func- tions to discharge, is " impar eongressus " with the acute brother, and, as I must now call him, the practised sophist, of the Oratory. And if I did feel. disposed to bring the admirable argument of Paley's. Natural Theology, or the profound analogies of Bishop Butlees great work to bear upon.Mr. New- man's fallacies, I am sure W. M. will agree with me that there would be neither fitness nor " verge enough " for such a discussion in your columns.

But, after all, is it necessary? "Sentio—ergo sure" is a summary ar- gument, which eaves the necessity for elaborate proof of the reality of our own existence ; and there are few reasoning men living, before whom should briplseed in all their naked sharpneefi the two propositions—" There is aGod," and. " The Ramie/a. System is true," who would. not intuitively. apprehend the different claim upon assent involved in each. Although. it. IL daily be, coming more and more evident what an immense change has passed on Mr. Newman's own mind since he has " taken service" with the Papacy, still I much doubt if he believes his own assertion in this matter: either he does, or, he- does not,r-ithe makes the statement merely for. the-controversial pur- pose of disturbing and " unsettling men's minds with regard to fundamental truths," what becomes of his honesty ? what becomes of. what you,. Sir,. call. "theobvious earnestness and sinconty about the man " on the other hand, he does believe himself, then what has become of those mental powers and. perceptions which: ones distinguished him.?—is it not evident that they are fast .withering and wasting in the atmosphere of lie and imposture which ha now habitually breathes ? You have justly called his argument, in de- fence of celibacy as the normal state of the Rennet clergy a " poor " one.•. it is.".poor," and unsound, alike : the palpable " argumentum a particular'. ad universale quod non valet," which ft contains, would be scouted in a tyro-logic class. Upon. the whole, I cannot but think that " Father New- man of the Oratory," as compared to- " Mr. Newman of Oriel," may be likened to a wine-merchant who under cover of the old established repute of his firm continues to dose his customers. with adulterate trash, until the. sense of taste rebels against the " tyrant tradition." of by.gone excellence. I but repeat a remark made by me,. in a periodical.a year since, when.I.sa

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that John Henry Newman is rapidly undergoing- a process which, while. vulgarizing his tastes, is equally deteriorating the mental powerswhich once distinguished-him. " Weak views," "deficient logic," "bolt perversion of fact," and "fallacies so cunning as to defeat thenweIves"—thcee. are.now the staple products of a mind whose. former workings even those who did- not assent to could admire : the same " wrapper " of a free and flowing style now covers an article very inferior to that which first gave Newman and Co. a name and reputation. I must now, however, address myself to the "pernicious principle" to which your correspondent has invited attention. Let me first state it briefly, as I collect it from his letter. The principle which. demands ex- posure (and needs no more) I take to be this—Mat Rome calls on tits morel to receive and bolisce all testa aide, unms saw sarrooe.m. That authority once admitted, say the Ilenniniatit, ail-further meof.,*aappw_ iluous ; and if at all resorted to, it is in condescension to, ham" infirmity—to a weakness of fallen humanity., which will ask- to .have that made acceptable to reason which ought to be accepted in ins. plicit faith. In order to lay the basis of its authority the deeper, Rome does not hesitate to insinuate seeptioism—to disparage the " sure warranty of

the certainty or seourity of all.other testimony— Holy Writ"—to impugn.

to the-end that the human mind,. bewildered and unsettled, may in its per plexity be glad to surrender itself to a guide with a mouth "speaking great things. I would not wish to overstate the opinion of an opponent. I do not think r do so in the present cast The late Dr. Milner; in his "End of Controversy," professing to deal with the "phantasmagoria of Protestant. opponents he had conjured up, takeethis as his vantage-ground, from which if be " descends," it is in the exercise of." charity "; and Mr. Newman is evi- dently. prepared to walk in his steps, and to go beyond him, in NE demands• upon the credulity and submission of England to the claims of his Church. But though it may be a novelty to England to find Rome coming forward to play this bold and desperate game, to one. living in the darkness visible of-Romanism in the South of-Ireland, and lately allowed to see. its-workings at its source in Rome itself, this is neither new nor surprising. In-my first. letter (of August 16th) I stated a remarkable effect produced on my own mind at Rome, from having- lie and truth, certainty and invention, continually presented to me upon the same warrant of authority and assertion. " The value-of testimony became impaired altogether" ! In that letter I referred to this circumstance in one of its bearings only,—namely, as tending to weaken the effect of all evidence,, and to incline the mind to a general scep- ticism. Your correspondent, howeve.r; has reminded me that I ought not to have overlooked that opposite result at which the Church ef Rome aims, and of course in a large measure attains,—namely, that of having its own dictum and warrant received as an infallible ground of proof ; so that its obedient• subjects learn habitually to look. for no other—to eousider ressan- ablenees, probability,. utility, accordance with general laws, analogy—in. short, all the conditions which the truth-seeking mind usually brume, to bear on testimony, as of minor or no importance when once the Church has spoken. " Credo quia impossibile "--" that odd maxim, of Tertullian," as Sir Thomas Brown calls it, seems to be the measure of faith most accordant with Roman demand and assent.:. and. in. what- ever sense this enigmatical sentence- as originally delivered was. to be understood, the use to which it seems- to. be new aptkial is that of. testing, the absolute submission of reason before 'dogma,, by the multiplied'gross, nessea of the fables which the devout Romanist is called on to believe—and does believe, unless when, under cover of a professed- assent, he makes his

escape into a-state of quiet but complete scepticism. •

It is exceedingly difficult for any mind acting in, the natural andleelthy, exercise of its faculties even to comprehend the process of training by which the Boorish system moulds its disciples to its uses- and purposes. Times without number within my own experience has a Romanist when pressed in argument taken refuge in the assertion, "All I can say is, if I ceased to bo a (Roman) Catholic, I-would be an infidel." Very probably your readers:will be at a loss for the ratiocination of such a declaration : I was so myself; nee was it until I bad attentively studied the mode- in which. Romanism deals with the first springs of thought, that I could at all see how such a conclu- sion was arrived at. But I think I can now understand the ruthless and unholy policy which first cuts the human mind adrift from all " laid down moorings," in order that it may float helpless- and derelict into ftehaven,

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where it is assiduously taught as a proposition universally true, that-there:is neither safety nor certainty. except in reliance on the Chureh'edictumr Into what absurdities this principle has led the Church of Rome, when taking charge of scientific truth, let the ease of Gallilee testify. There it resulted in mere drivel; but in religion the awfuldaring, with which,Romanisim. pro- claims itself as the sole authorized announcer- of truth, almost exceeds cre- dibility. Yetitis right that the English public should he aware of the fact,„ that her teaching, as I takeit from one of her text-books„amountain e0 MARY words to this—" Trust me, and at the judgment-seat of Eternal' Truth,, yea may plead, Lord, if I have been deceived, Thou art the author of my error." It may seem strange that such impious,darieg should excite-anything but dis- gust and distrust; but to understand: the depth of this policy; we must take - into account the amount of mental indolence natural-to. a. large majority of mankind. To how many is it easier and pleasanter to trust to others, than to think for themselves; especially when those others.areready-to take-upon them any amount of responsibility for the undoubting and ueinqueting.. soul. The more profoundly ignorant the soul, the more confident tie. we hut it, as in the case of the Irish peasant, in its security, whet aseured by that, clergy that all is safe. Then let us take into account. that.wellsknown mine ciple of Romanism that " the clergy are the Church "—the licensed broker& , (so to speak) through whom this world is to transact its, business with the world to come;. and that all the laity have to do, is to be obedient, docile, and unhesitating in reliance on the dogmatic teaching of thosesetoverthem, When to these principles of " governing" is added this other; precluding: all comparison, examination, or inquiry into- any proposition however mon- stroas—namely, that "a doubt is a sux,"---laying these together, we-have, laid open to us the wards and combinations of that padlock under which. Romani= keeps, the minds of its. people fast bound it its thrahlom. To- these principles we may trace that nervous sensitiveness, with which Romer under a pretence of care for " faith and morals;" opposes- and. watches the: operation of any mode of mental culture which may bring the mind inteart- dependent action. Hence, too, its dread of an open Bible—or any other agency which comes too near the secret, of the mystery of its " ancient soli- tary reign."

I do not know how I can better meet and combat such principles as-these, at least in the short compass ana popular form which I- think- suitable, than by a few illustrations of their working—past, present, and prospective:. " Example hits where precept fails " ; and those who would, turn. from. ace elaborate confutation may readily lay to heart a few instances taken- from, " philosophy teaching tiy example. It is not necessary to remind. you, Sir, that a very trivial incident may often illustrate & very profound prin- ciple.

There are two reflections which every one must at once make on com- paring those great events of history the &volutions of France and England, and the different issue of each. In France, the complete ccrassement (to coin a word) of all sense of religion—the daring declaration of war madeby' a whole nation upon all that the human soul holds in reverence or worships. —contrasts remarkably with the stern, or if some will so call it, grins enthu.- siasm, with which Cromwell's Puritans- routed the. " tapsters• and awash buckler serving-men" of the Royal forma. There was no general: oosening of social bonds in the conflict which -his people undertook against " the man Charles Stuart" ; fundamental. truths were left untouched; and there are curious traits on.record of " the old_ regards for law and order" which still held influence in England when anarchy was at its wildest and highest : whereas in France one of the most appalling features of the bloody drains of its revolt was the general transformation of the members of what used to be called the "eldest daughter of the Church " into incarnate God-defying fiends. Rome exultingly says—" The philosopher did it all Vobeires. Diderot D'Alembert, were those who let loose the human mind- into atheistic • anarchy." So farliome spats truSiTcfiei:into—me stops: it would not suither objeCts to extuitiiie die sdbieetrftirtheil hid te ebteritler how or why there shallow mastersef te "pinks:$(1%3, falseirso veiled". were thus able to frighten a great nation from Ms propriety, decency, religion and humanity. Voltaire made war on God; and in France had a. dreadful religion; perhaps buttemporary success. Voltaire's flippant; pert, sneering philosophy., never merle the least impression on the mind of England : and the reason in each case is, r thitik, to be found in the different training of the mind of each na-. tion, and the different grounds on which each nation held its recognition of diethe truth. France received its faith, its sense of all religious 'truth, men the diet-urn of a Church whose corruptions called-to Heaven' for correct" lien - d when the Church fell, all French sense of' things divine and sacred mi d *mit with it. England, on the other hand, taught and privileged to find and hold troth in the spirit of the "noble Borealis," kept funda- mentals qven when it' overturned throne and altar ; and hence, when the day for the restoration of both came the work was the easier that the main foundations of religion were never broken. Lotus hope that England will never seen day When•ehe shall nationally submit herself to anyteachers who will not instruct her sons under the conditions of this important rale—. "To the law and to the testimony; if they speak not according- to these, there is no light in them." If we come to'the present time, it appears to me that the true type of mind and character formed by the application of Rome's law-of evidence and warrants for belief, is to be sought for not where Rome works, as in Eng- land, under the correction of a wholesome opposition—where, in spite of her, the light of other systems makes way through the chinks and crevices of her system ; but we must go to sad and sunken Italy, where she moulds and modifies every relation and institution of life and society : and there, from the prince to the peasant, is to be seen the sad spectacle of noble na- tures and grand elements of character dwarfed and dwindled under the cul- ture which the Church thinks it safe to apply to them. Until I saw Rome, I could not even conceive the effects of having a community regulated upon principles purely sacerdotal and hierarchical : but there I did see a Church in full control and possession of man, from the cradle to the grave—in his school, in his sports, in his martiege-contract, in giving his child in marriage, in managing his property while living or be- queathing it when dying,—the Church takes cognizance and charge of all : her docile children have nothing to do but to trust her;. and the blessed re- sult of her earois enpressed in the answer of a Roman. shopkeeper when I asked him conceiving some trifling public inconvenience, and why it was not remedied? " Because, Signor," he replied, grinding his teeth as he spoke, " demo sempre nil' abysso." ( We are ever in the abyss !") It is " pass- ing moutnful" to see a fine people acutely sensible that they are behind and below the rest of the world in the race of civilization and improvement, and yet unable to shake' off the incubus which paralyzes their- energies and Het like a dead weight upon-their exertions. In all ranks it is the same. " Ah, Signora," said a Roman noble th a lady of my party, in reply to a passing remark on the antiquitiee of the city, "you foresheri can speak of these things, and enjoy these things ; but we know nothing of our own history—they teach uenothirre " And yet this was a man' of position and fortune; and his humiliating confession accords fully with other statements made to me from unquestionable authority, that there are princes in Rome whose knowledge of life and the world is limited to a three-mile drive to the Petrie Molle, and who pass all their days in a blissful ignorance that there is anything.to be known, seen, or done, beyond what their confessor allows or advises. Looking on this feirand classic land, well might the poet of a former age—and how much more the observer of the present—remark, that " Man seems the only growth that dwindles here." Let;it not be sup- posed/ however, that this surrender of the "rights and duties" of intellect to authority is without some struggle; and some natural manly sense of the de- gradation. I might multiplyinatances which came- under my own knowledge, that there are " thoughts half-formed," and "conseiousness half-awakened," not in Rome only, but all over Italy, which will probably sooner or later issue in an- upheaving and overthrow of all that now presses down the energies of that fair landund its people. I shalicontent myself with one incident. I had at Naples a valet de place acute and intelligent. Passing one day over the bridge on the road- to Portici, I stopped the carriage to copy the in scription under the statue of St,Januarius, which oommemorates the feet (?) —the Romish fact—that "when-Vesuvius was vomiting itself forth on the city of Naples in flame, he (St. Januarius) at once extinguished the flames by the eight of his sacred head." Guisseppe respectfully begged to ask, "what the signor saw so strange in the memorial of a fact which all the world knew so well." I told him fairly, that "I copied it as a record of an extravagant superstition" ; and added, that " there were Roman Catholics in my country who would not credit thet their Church ever authenticated such monstrous fables." As we-drew:eon towards Portiei, I pointed out to him several natural causes which'. would account for the cessation of the eruption independently of the weenier-working virtues of St. Januarius's head! The mans-attention became aroused ; he entered at once into the ezplanation I gave ; and I shall not easily forget the serious sadness in his large dark eye as he said, "I often' think.suoh thing., Signor, on this and other matters ; but what can I know e The Church has spoken, and there is no more to be said"—" there is an end of it."

Yes ; so'the Roman‘Chureh ends all gneetions by its "'absolute shall" : but "the end is not yet" ; and this sends the mind into very intense spe- culation on the future of Italy and the "prospective" of the Papacy. That the exodus of the French or Austrian powers from the States of the Church would be followed in a few hours' space by another Hegira of his Holiness the Pepe, is a fact of which no thinking man in those States entertains a doubt, and is a proof how little real hold the system ' has on the regards of those subjeot to • and kept down by it. Jane character of the Papacy is to be noted as accounting for its- hold on the submissive ages of past time—as contributing- to its con- tinuance for - the present, though probably preparing. the way for its more completh ultimate overthrow. It is utterly incapable of modification or.gradual reform, mid ito high claims to unchangeableuess will probably in the end prove the millstone, whereby it shall ultimately be cast " where it shall no more be found at all." The present Pope's escapade into some liberal modificationeror attempts at them, and the revolutionary results to which it led, have thrown him, or rather the railing Cardinals, on a re- actionary, policy, which will probably be persevered in until the measure of endurance runs over, And then---what is yet in the future who can venture to predict or calculate, but two things seem certain. First, that the Papacy cannot remain as it is; either in its pretensions or principles ; it has afresh committed itself to claims. which it must make good or be defeated utterly. Secondly, that should any revolt against its domination succeed, it must be by making "root and branch work- of it." When Mr. Carlyle in hie Latter Day Pamphlets sagaciously noted the portent of "a Pope pretending to guide himself by the rules of the New Testament," he anticipated the

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i.oc abserdi of attempting to mingle constitutional principles with the elements of :the dom : its rule must be ex neegose absolute; the submission to it must' blind and unquestioning. As soon as its subjects shall really apply to its aetings or announcements the rules of ordinary reason or judg-

ment, then of the Papacy it may be-said, "Actum est." A. B. R.