Apologia pro Vita Sua (1865)
John Henry Newman
Revised October, 2001—NR.
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Forward by Hilaire Belloc [from
1930 edition of Daniel M. O'Connell, S.J.—NR]
Life of Cardinal Newman,
Chapter 20 [covers the period in which this book
was written—NR]
Apologia [combined edition of
Wilfrid Ward, includes 1864 material omitted in 1865 edition—NR]
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Preface
{v} THE
following History of my Religious Opinions, now that it is detached
from the context in which it originally stood, requires some
preliminary explanation; and that, not only in order to introduce it
generally to the reader, but specially to make him understand, how I
came to write a whole book about myself, and about my most private
thoughts and feelings. Did I consult indeed my own impulses, I should
do my best simply to wipe out of my Volume, and consign to oblivion,
every trace of the circumstances to which it is to be ascribed; but
its original title of Apologia is too exactly borne out by its
matter and structure, and these again are too suggestive of
correlative circumstances, and those circumstances are of too grave a
character, to allow of my indulging so natural a wish. And therefore,
though in this new Edition I have managed to omit nearly a hundred
pages of my original Volume, which I could safely consider {vi} to be
of merely ephemeral importance, I am even for that very reason
obliged, by way of making up for their absence, to prefix to my
Narrative some account of the provocation out of which it arose.
It is now more than twenty years that a vague
impression to my disadvantage has rested on the popular mind, as if my
conduct towards the Anglican Church, while I was a member of it, was
inconsistent with Christian simplicity and uprightness. An impression
of this kind was almost unavoidable under the circumstances of the
case, when a man, who had written strongly against a cause, and had
collected a party round him by virtue of such writings, gradually
faltered in his opposition to it, unsaid his words, threw his own
friends into perplexity and their proceedings into confusion, and
ended by passing over to the side of those whom he had so vigorously
denounced. Sensitive then as I have ever been of the imputations which
have been so freely cast upon me, I have never felt much impatience
under them, as considering them to be a portion of the penalty which I
naturally and justly incurred by my change of religion, even though
they were to continue as long as I lived. I left their removal to a
future day, when personal feelings would have died out, and documents
would see the light, which were as yet buried in closets or scattered
through the country.
This was my state of mind, as it had been for
{vii} many years, when, in the beginning of 1864, I unexpectedly found
myself publicly put upon my defence, and furnished with an opportunity
of pleading my cause before the world, and, as it so happened, with a
fair prospect of an impartial hearing. Taken indeed by surprise, as I
was, I had much reason to be anxious how I should be able to acquit
myself in so serious a matter; however, I had long had a tacit
understanding with myself, that, in the improbable event of a challenge
being formally made to me, by a person of name, it would be my duty to
meet it. That opportunity had now occurred; it never might occur
again; not to avail myself of it at once would be virtually to give up
my cause; accordingly, I took advantage of it, and, as it has turned
out, the circumstance that no time was allowed me for any studied
statements has compensated, in the equitable judgment of the public,
for such imperfections in composition as my want of leisure involved.
It was in the number for January 1864, of a
magazine of wide circulation, and in an Article upon Queen Elizabeth,
that a popular writer took occasion formally to accuse me by name of
thinking so lightly of the virtue of Veracity, as in set terms to have
countenanced and defended that neglect of it which he at the same time
imputed to the Catholic Priesthood. His words were these:— {viii}
"Truth, for its own sake, had never been a virtue
with the Roman clergy. Father Newman informs us that it need not, and
on the whole ought not to be; that cunning is the weapon which heaven
has given to the Saints wherewith to withstand the brute male force of
the wicked world which marries and is given in marriage. Whether his
notion be doctrinally correct or not, it is at least historically so."
These assertions, going far beyond the popular
prejudice entertained against me, had no foundation whatever in fact.
I never had said, I never had dreamed of saying, that truth for its
own sake, need not, and on the whole ought not to be, a virtue with
the Roman Clergy; or that cunning is the weapon which heaven has given
to the Saints wherewith to withstand the wicked world. To what work of
mine then could the writer be referring? In a correspondence which
ensued upon the subject between him and myself, he rested his charge
against me on a Sermon of mine, preached, before I was a Catholic, in
the pulpit of my Church at Oxford; and he gave me to understand, that,
after having done as much as this, he was not bound, over and above
such a general reference to my Sermon, to specify the passages of it,
in which the doctrine, which he imputed to me, was contained. On my
part I considered this not enough; and I demanded of him to bring out
his proof of his accusation in {ix} form and in detail, or to confess
he was unable to do so. But he persevered in his refusal to cite any
distinct passages from any writing of mine; and, though he consented
to withdraw his charge, he would not do so on the issue of its truth
or falsehood, but simply on the ground that I assured him that I had
had no intention of incurring it. This did not satisfy my sense of
justice. Formally to charge me with committing a fault is one thing;
to allow that I did not intend to commit it, is another; it is no
satisfaction to me, if a man accuses me of this offence, for
him to profess that he does not accuse me of that; but he
thought differently. Not being able then to gain redress in the
quarter, where I had a right to ask it, I appealed to the public. I
published the correspondence in the shape of a Pamphlet, with some
remarks of my own at the end, on the course which that correspondence
had taken.
This Pamphlet, which appeared in the first weeks
of February, received a reply from my accuser towards the end of
March, in another Pamphlet of 48 pages, entitled, What then does
Dr. Newman mean? in which he professed to do that which I had
called upon him to do; that is, he brought together a number of
extracts from various works of mine, Catholic and Anglican, with the
object of showing that, if I was to be acquitted of the crime of
teaching and practising deceit and dishonesty, according to {x} his
first supposition, it was at the price of my being considered no
longer responsible for my actions; for, as he expressed it, "I had a
human reason once, no doubt, but I had gambled it away," and I had "worked
my mind into that morbid state, in which nonsense was the only food
for which it hungered;" and that it could not be called "a hasty or
far-fetched or unfounded mistake, when he concluded that I did not
care for truth for its own sake, or teach my disciples to regard it as
a virtue;" and, though "too many prefer the charge of insincerity to
that of insipience, Dr. Newman seemed not to be of that number."
He ended his Pamphlet by returning to his
original imputation against me, which he had professed to abandon.
Alluding by anticipation to my probable answer to what he was then
publishing, he professed his heartfelt embarrassment how he was to
believe any thing I might say in my exculpation, in the plain and
literal sense of the words. "I am henceforth," he said, "in doubt and
fear, as much as an honest man can be, concerning every word Dr.
Newman may write. How can I tell, that I shall not be the dupe of some
cunning equivocation, of one of the three kinds laid down as
permissible by the blessed St. Alfonso da Liguori and his pupils, even
when confirmed with an oath, because 'then we do not deceive our
neighbour, but allow him to deceive himself?' ... How can I tell, that
I may not in {xi} this Pamphlet have made an accusation, of the truth
of which Dr. Newman is perfectly conscious; but that, as I, a heretic
Protestant, have no business to make it, he has a full right to deny
it?"
Even if I could have found it consistent with my
duty to my own reputation to leave such an elaborate impeachment of my
moral nature unanswered, my duty to my Brethren in the Catholic
Priesthood, would have forbidden such a course. They were
involved in the charges which this writer, all along, from the
original passage in the Magazine, to the very last paragraph of the
Pamphlet, had so confidently, so pertinaciously made. In exculpating
myself, it was plain I should be pursuing no mere personal
quarrel;—I was offering my humble service to a sacred cause. I was
making my protest in behalf of a large body of men of high character,
of honest and religious minds, and of sensitive honour,—who had
their place and their rights in this world, though they were ministers
of the world unseen, and who were insulted by my Accuser, as the above
extracts from him sufficiently show, not only in my person, but
directly and pointedly in their own. Accordingly, I at once set about
writing the Apologia pro vitâ suâ, of which the present
Volume is a New Edition; and it was a great reward to me to find, as
the controversy proceeded, such large numbers of my clerical brethren
supporting me by their sympathy in the course which I was {xii}
pursuing, and, as occasion offered, bestowing on me the formal and
public expression of their approbation. These testimonials in my
behalf, so important and so grateful to me, are, together with the
Letter, sent to me with the same purpose, from my Bishop, contained in
the last pages of this Volume.
This Edition differs from the first form of the Apologia as
follows:—The original work consisted of seven Parts, which were
published in series on consecutive Thursdays, between April 21 and
June 2. An Appendix, in answer to specific allegations urged against
me in the Pamphlet of Accusation, appeared on June 16. Of these Parts
1 and 2, as being for the most part directly controversial, are
omitted in this Edition, excepting certain passages in them, which are
subjoined to this Preface, as being necessary for the due explanation
of the subsequent five Parts. These, (being 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, of the Apologia,)
are here numbered as Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 respectively. Of the
Appendix, about half has been omitted, for the same reason as has led
to the omission of Parts 1 and 2. The rest of it is thrown into the
shape of Notes of a discursive character, with two new ones on Liberalism
and the Lives of the English Saints of 1843-4, and another, new
in part, on Ecclesiastical Miracles. In the body of the work,
{xiii} the only addition of consequence is the letter which is found
at p. 228, a copy of which has recently come into my possession.
I should add that, since writing the Apologia
last year, I have seen for the first time Mr. Oakeley's Notes on
the Tractarian Movement. This work remarkably corroborates the
substance of my Narrative, while the kind terms in which he speaks of
me personally, call for my sincere gratitude.
May 2, 1865.
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Title
Page
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APOLOGIA PRO VITA SUA
BEING
A HISTORY OF HIS RELIGIOUS
OPINIONS
BY
JOHN HENRY CARDINAL NEWMAN
"Commit thy way to the
Lord and trust in Him, and He will do it.
And He will bring forth thy justice as the light, and thy
judgment as the noon
day."
NEW IMPRESSION
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA
1908 |
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Newman Reader — Works of John Henry Newman
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