about it." This is the work he conceives it his duty to do. His want of secresy or reserve can be no other than a matter of thankfulness to all who retain love or loyalty to the church. But, most assuredly, if any who desire to be called moderate men keep silent, while he is "experimentalizing” in this fashion, they must be prepared to be counted responsible for no small portion of the mischief he is doing, and to forfeit the influence which their moderation ought to give them, and does actually give them with the respectable part of the community.

Whatever may be said of the past, Mr. Newman cannot now be charged with concealment. It is evident that he and his party imagine him, like his prototype, Wilfrid,

raised up to do some special work in the world;-the idea of it seems completely to master his whole life ;— every detail of it looks one way and has but one only meaning.

And the world will probably be told hereafter,

with what distinctness he perceived that devotion to Rome was the sole remedy for the ailing times, and with what promptness he gave himself up to the cultivation of that feeling in himself, and the propagation of it amongst others. p. 49.

This is what will be said of Mr. Newman hereafter. Every one sees how truly it may be said of him now. To a higher tribunal, indeed, than public opinion, he is accountable for his principles

and conduct. But if the interests of truth are damaged, if the real principles of the Church of England become so mixed up in men's minds with Mr. Newman's experimentalizings and superstitions, as to bring orthodoxy and the Common Prayer-book itself into suspicion, then, most assuredly, "moderate men,"-men who deserve to be described by a name expressive of wisdom and calm-judging discretion, should take care, before it be too late, that none of the blame shall rest at their doors.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE MOVEMENT-PALMERS AND PILGRIMS.

As

BUT what do Mr. Newman and his party propose to do next? Can they remain much longer in communion with the church? Can they feel satisfied with the validity or legitimacy of their orders? far as these questions lead to personalities and the discussion of the morality of Mr. Newman's conduct, I wish to avoid them altogether. It has long been my fixed persuasion, that nothing has involved the character of the Oxford movement in more confusion, than the propensity both its friends and opposers have had for making it a personal question. Mr. Newman has a Master, and to Him he must give account for what he has done and is doing. But, in considering the object and character of the movement, these questions—namely, what step will be taken next? and what is Mr. Newman's view respecting the validity and regularity of his orders? -are questions of importance, and deserve an answer, if an answer can be given to them. I pretend to no secret intelligence. I disclaim such sagacity as could enable me to predict what step shall next be taken, much less in what latitude of sectarianism a movement will end, where everything of faith and worship is in a transition state,-where restlessness amounts to an incurable disease,—and the

any

one only symptom which is fixed and chronic, is an incessant change of posture,—and the whole frame is convulsed with the twitchings and contortions of spiritual fidgets. In truth, the party have set about

"A godly thorough reformation,

Which always must be carried on,
And still be doing, never done."

Starting on an inclined plane-notwithstanding the "Catholic instinct" which in the first instance propels them "Romeward,"-Rome itself seems destined to be but the next station in a never-ending whirl of locomotion. If they stay long enough to take in a fresh supply of moving power, it is quite as much as their friends in the Eternal City (and none can estimate more correctly the evanescent character of such flying visitors) should venture to reckon on. Their pilgrimage seems destined to the

fate which Milton tells of.

"St. Peter at heaven's wicket seems

To wait them with his keys

when lo!

A violent cross wind from either coast

Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry

Into the devious air."

Or rather, they remind one of Mr. Newman's description of "St. Willibald's party," in the second volume of these lives. They are—

Palmers and not pilgrims ;-for a palmer and a pilgrim, according to some, differ in this; a pilgrim has a home, to

which he returns when his vow is performed, a palmer has none; a pilgrim goes to a certain place in particular, a palmer goes to all.-St. Richard, p. 54.

When Mr. Newman and the rest of the "Palmers" intend to make the next move, however, may naturally be inquired by those who feel concerned in the effects of their peregrinations on the church,especially as he seems to describe their present feelings in what he says of St. Willibald and "his companions:" they have "broken all the bands which tied them to England, left all what are called prospects in life, and renounced their home for ever."

Now, although one may be mistaken in supposing it to be intended to satisfy a reasonable anxiety on this point, there is a passage in this life of St. Wilfrid which may almost be regarded in the light of a bulletin;-especially as the book has been so very lately published, and in truth, is a sort of myth or parable-a story founded on fact-in which the history of Wilfrid seems to have been wrought up into a portraiture of Mr. Newman and an embodiment of his teaching. The writer had been stating that Wilfrid declined receiving consecration from the English bishops, as, among other reasons,

it was quite open to a question whether the Scottish non-conformity did not amount to schism, when Rome had spoken so plainly about the matter; and lastly, there was a gross, and open, and unresisted Erastianism throughout the island, most grievous to a pious mind, and full of perplexity.-St. Wilfrid, p. 42.