Charles said that somehow he did not like this mode of arguing; it seemed dangerous; he did not see whither it went, where it ended. Presently he said, abruptly, “Why do you think there are more difficulties in the Church of Rome?”

“Clearly there are,” answered Carlton; “if the Articles are a crust, is not Pope Pius’s Creed a bone?”

“I don’t know Pope Pius’s Creed,” said Charles; “I know very little about the state of the case, certainly. What does it say?”

“Oh, it includes transubstantiation, purgatory, saint-worship, and the rest,” said Carlton; “I suppose you could not quite subscribe these?”

“It depends,” answered Charles slowly, “on this—on what authority they came to me.” He stopped, and then went on: “Of course I could, if they came to me on the same authority as the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity comes. Now, the Articles come on no authority; they are the views of persons in the 16th century; and, again, it is not clear how far they are, or are not, modified by the unauthoritative views of the 19th. I am obliged, then, to exercise my own judgment; and I candidly declare to you that my judgment is unequal to so great a task. At least, this is what troubles me, whenever the subject rises in my mind; for I have put it from me.”

“Well, then,” said Carlton, “take them on faith.”

“You mean, I suppose,” said Charles, “that I must consider our Church infallible.”

Carlton felt the difficulty; he answered, “No, but you must act as if it were infallible, from a sense of duty”.

Charles smiled; then he looked grave; he stood still, and his eyes fell. “If I am to make a Church infallible,” he said, “if I must give up private judgment, if I must act on faith, there is a Church which has a greater claim on us all than the Church of England.”

“My dear Reding,” said Carlton, with some emotion, “where did you get these notions?”

“I don’t know,” answered Charles; “somebody has said that they were in the air. I have talked to no one, except one or two arguments I had with different persons in my first year. I have driven the subject from me; but when I once begin, you see it will out.”

They walked on awhile in silence. “Do you really mean to say,” asked Carlton at length, “that it is so difficult to understand and receive the Articles? To me they are quite clear enough, and speak the language of common sense.”

“Well, they seem to me,” said Reding, “sometimes inconsistent with themselves, sometimes with the Prayer Book; so that I am suspicious of them; I don’t know what I am signing when I sign, yet I ought to sign ex animo. A blind submission I could make; I cannot make a blind declaration.”

“Give me some instances,” said Carlton.

“For example,” said Charles, “they distinctly receive the Lutheran doctrine of justification by faith only, which the Prayer Book virtually opposes in every one of its Offices. They refer to the Homilies as authority, yet the Homilies speak of the books of the Apocrypha as inspired, which the Articles implicitly deny. The Articles about Ordination are in their spirit contrary to the Ordination Service. One Article on the Sacraments speaks the doctrine of Melancthon, another that of Calvin. One Article speaks of the Church’s authority in controversies of faith, yet another makes Scripture the ultimate appeal. These are what occur to me at the moment.”

“Surely many of these are but verbal difficulties, at the very first glance,” said Carlton, “and all may be surmounted with a little care.”

“On the other hand, it has struck me,” continued Charles, “that the Church of Rome is undeniably consistent in her formularies; this is the very charge some of our writers make upon her, that she is so systematic. It may be a hard, iron system, but it is consistent.”

Carlton did not wish to interrupt him, thinking it best to hear his whole difficulty; so Charles proceeded: “When a system is consistent, at least it does not condemn itself. Consistency is not truth, but truth is consistency. Now, I am not a fit judge whether or not a certain system is true, but I may be quite a judge whether it is consistent with itself. When an oracle equivocates, it carries with it its own condemnation. I almost think there is something in Scripture on this subject, comparing in this respect the pagan and the inspired prophecies. And this has struck me, too, that St. Paul gives this very account of a heretic, that he is ‘condemned of himself,’ bearing his own condemnation on his face. Moreover, I was once in the company of Freeborn (I don’t know if you are acquainted with him) and others of the Evangelical party, and they showed plainly, if they were to be trusted, that Luther and Melancthon did not agree together on the prime point of justification by faith, a circumstance which had not come into the Article-lecture. Also I have read somewhere, or heard in some sermon, that the ancient heretics always were inconsistent, never could state plainly their meaning, much less agree together; and thus, whether they would or no, could not help giving to the simple a warning of their true character, as if by their rattle.”

Charles stopped; presently he continued: “This too has struck me; that either there is no prophet of the truth on earth, or the Church of Rome is that prophet. That there is a prophet still, or apostle, or messenger, or teacher, or whatever he is to be called, seems evident by our believing in a visible Church. Now, common sense tells us what a messenger from God must be; first, he must not contradict himself, as I have just been saying. Again, a prophet of God can allow of no rival, but denounces all who make a separate claim, as the prophets do in Scripture. Now, it is impossible to say whether our Church acknowledges or not Lutheranism in Germany, Calvinism in Switzerland, the Nestorian and Monophysite bodies in the East. Nor does it clearly tell us what view it takes of the Church of Rome. The only place where it recognises its existence is in the Homilies, and there it speaks of it as Antichrist. Nor has the Greek Church any intelligible position in Anglican doctrine. On the other hand, the Church of Rome has this prima facie mark of a prophet, that, like a prophet in Scripture, it admits no rival, and anathematizes all doctrine counter to its own. There’s another thing: a prophet of God is of course at home with his message; he is not helpless and do-nothing in the midst of errors and in the war of opinions. He knows what has been given him to declare, how far it extends; he can act as an umpire; he is equal to emergencies. This again tells in favour of the Church of Rome. As age after age comes she is ever on the alert, questions every new comer, sounds the note of alarm, hews down strange doctrine, claims and locates and perfects what is new and true. The Church of Rome inspires me with confidence; I feel I can trust her. It is another thing whether she is true; I am not pretending now to decide that. But I do not feel the like trust in our own Church. I love her more than I trust her. She leaves me without faith. Now you see the state of my mind.” He fetched a deep, sharp sigh, as if he had got a load off him.

“Well,” said Carlton, when he had stopped, “this is all very pretty theory; whether it holds in matter of fact is another question. We have been accustomed hitherto to think Chillingworth right, when he talks of popes against popes, councils against councils, and so on. Certainly you will not be allowed by Protestant controversialists to assume this perfect consistency in Romish doctrine. The truth is, you have read very little; and you judge of truth, not by facts, but by notions; I mean, you think it enough if a notion hangs together; though you disavow it, still, in matter of fact, consistency is truth to you. Whether facts answer to theories you cannot tell, and you don’t inquire. Now I am not well read in the subject, but I know enough to be sure that Romanists will have more work to prove their consistency than you anticipate. For instance, they appeal to the Fathers, yet put the Pope above them; they maintain the infallibility of the Church, and prove it by Scripture, and then they prove Scripture by the Church. They think a General Council infallible when, but not before, the Pope has ratified it; Bellarmine, I think, gives a list of General Councils which have erred. And I never have been able to make out the Romish doctrine of indulgences.”

Charles thought over this; then he said: “Perhaps the case is as you say, that I ought to know the matter of fact more exactly before attempting to form a judgment on the subject; but, my dear Carlton, I protest to you, and you may think with what distress I say it, that if the Church of Rome is as ambiguous as our own Church, I shall be in the way to become a sceptic, on the very ground that I shall have no competent authority to tell me what to believe. The Ethiopian said, ‘How can I know, unless some man do teach me?’ and St. Paul says, ‘Faith cometh by hearing’. If no one claims my faith, how can I exercise it? At least I shall run the risk of becoming a Latitudinarian; for if I go by Scripture only, certainly there is no creed given us in Scripture.”

“Our business,” said Carlton, “is to make the best of things, not the worst. Do keep this in mind; be on your guard against a strained and morbid view of things. Be cheerful, be natural, and all will be easy.”

“You are always kind and considerate,” said Charles; “but, after all—I wish I could make you see it—you have not a word to say by way of meeting my original difficulty of subscription. How am I to leap over the wall? It’s nothing to the purpose that other communions have their walls also.”

They now neared home, and concluded their walk in silence, each being fully occupied with the thoughts which the conversation had suggested.