Did Cardinal Manning really accuse Cardinal Newman of ‘ten distinct heresies’?
In honour of the 180th anniversary of Newman's conversion: Why this anecdote is of absolutely no worth.
In honour of the 180th anniversary of Newman’s conversion: Why this anecdote is of absolutely no worth.
Introduction
A recurring criticism of Cardinal John Henry Newman is that he was opposed by his contemporary, Cardinal Henry Edward Manning – even to the point, we are told, of accusing him of “ten distinct heresies.”
However, as with almost every other aspect of the anti-Newman myth, the picture is considerably more complex than suggested.
In this essay, we will consider why this anecdote should be completely disregarded. There are three reasons for this:
The source of this anecdote, a man named J.E.C. Bodley, is unreliable
The source of the anecdote presents Manning himself as unreliable
Manning could not have said such a thing without rendering himself unreliable, given his own conduct and public words about Newman (whom he compared to St Thomas Aquinas, and called “our greatest witness for the Faith”) around the same time.
There is no doubt that hostility existed between Manning and Newman, but the evidence suggests that the former changed over time, such that the eulogy he delivered upon Newman’s death should either be taken as “the real Manning” and Bodley’s anecdote dismissed, or Manning must be taken as a “Janus” character with a tenuous relationship with the truth, and thus his criticism of Newman disregarded.
The question, in brief, is whether we can accept what Bodley says Manning said about Newman, without also accepting what Bodley says about Manning himself – which latter, we submit, significantly undermines Manning’s own character; and whether we should prioritise what Bodley says Manning said about Newman, or what Manning himself said about Newman.
BUT FIRST: Celebrate the 180th anniversary of Newman’s conversion to the Catholic Church with The WM Review’s exclusive Cardinal Newman Mug:
Shock and horrify your friends celebrating Leo XIV’s attempt to name him a Doctor of the Church with the mug’s powerful text from the Letter to the Duke of Norfolk.
The ‘ten distinct heresies’ anecdote
The anecdote is sometimes presented as Manning directly accusing Newman of heresy. However, two crucial points about the anecdote are almost always omitted:
The original anecdote recounts a conversation between Manning and Bodley, without Newman or any other witness present.
The anecdote appears in Bodley’s biographical essay Cardinal Manning, and he does not claim that anyone else was present. Bodley claims that Manning wanted him to be his biographer and prepared him for this role, but circumstances led to Edmund Sheridan Purcell writing the Life of Cardinal Manning instead. Roy Jenkins says that Bodley “was almost certainly [Manning’s] most intimate non-Catholic friend.”[1] Bodley himself claims that he was “the only young man of my day who enjoyed his close friendship and the only Protestant of that time.”[2]
Bodley gives little indication of when this anecdote allegedly took place. However, he states that his friendship with Manning ran from 1884 to 1891, when Manning was in his late 70s and 80s.[3] Newman died in 1890, and Manning followed him in 1892.
Bodley himself was a Freemason.
With this in order, let us turn to the anecdote itself:
“One night the Cardinal’s talk turned to the Oxford movement. He repudiated all connection with it, and in the language of an old cricketer he said, ‘I became a Catholic off my own bat.’ Then he went on to talk of Newman, and so long as his allusions were to their personal relations there was no bitterness in his words. He lamented, with good feeling, that the other saw fit to slight him when he came to stay in London with Dean Church.
“Then the conversation moved to theological ground, and Manning’s tone changed. ‘From an observation you made,’ he said, ‘I gather that you are under the impression that Doctor Newman is a good Catholic.’ I replied that such was my vague belief. He retorted: ‘Either you are ignorant of the Catholic doctrine, or of the works of Doctor Newman’ — he always said ‘Doctor Newman’ in Oxford fashion, and never gave him the title of Cardinal. After asking me which of Newman’s books I had read, he proceeded to tick off on his tapering fingers, in his usual way, ten distinct heresies to be found in the most widely-read works of Dr. Newman.”1
Let us now consider Bodley’s Masonic background.
Part I: J.E.C. Bodley, Freemason
As mentioned, Bodley was a Freemason and involved in the administration of Masonic activities.[4]
The Freemason Yasha Beresiner explains how Bodley was responsible for the initiation of no less a candidate than Oscar Wilde:
“Oscar would have felt on familiar ground when, in February 1875, his colleague John Edward Courtenay Bodley (always called Courtenay by family and friends) an undergraduate at Balliol College, who had been only initiated the year before, approached him with a view to his joining the Apollo University Lodge No 357. Bodley was much involved with Masonic administration, responsible for several fêtes and balls and was appointed Junior Secretary of the Apollo University Lodge, Director of Ceremonies of the Churchill Lodge and later became the Provincial Grand Secretary for Oxfordshire. He was also closely associated with [the sixth son of Queen Victoria] Prince Leopold […]
“On 16 February 1875 Oscar was proposed in the Apollo University Lodge by Sinclair Frankland Hood of Magdalen College and seconded by J.E.C. Bodley. The ballot proved in his favour. Prior to his initiation a week later, Oscar was primed on Freemasonry by a group of friends, which included Bodley. In his diary entry for Sunday 21 February 1875 Bodley writes:
“‘Fitz & Wilde breakfasted with me at the Mitre at 11. Went down with W(ilde) to Corpus found the Count (W. O. Goldschmidt) dressing & screwed him round to C(hrist) Ch(urch) where he was lunching. We called on Williamson where we had a long talk on Masonry. He produced his properties and Wilde was as much struck by their gorgeousness, as he was amazed (dismayed?) at the mystery of our conversation.’
“[…] The meeting at which Oscar was initiated was a busy one indeed. His friend Bodley acted as Secretary for the first time and combined his duties with that of Treasurer.”[5]
Bodley’s journals record a supposedly hilarious incident, in which he deceived Wilde into believing that a particular phrase from Masonic ritual referred to Christian truths, which led Wilde to make a fool of himself in his maiden speech to the Lodge.[6]
This is the man, we repeat, who is the authority for the idea that Manning accused Newman of “ten distinct heresies.”
So much for Bodley’s background. Did he remain a Freemason after University? We have been unable to find any evidence that he did not. He was the secretary of Sir Charles Dilke, who was also a Freemason in at least 1880.[7]
Bodley mentions Freemasonry in his other works – for example, dismissing the existence of a grand Judeo-Masonic conspiracy in France.
However, whether he remained a Freemason or not, and notwithstanding the lasting effects on a person’s character which surely arise from an extended and enthusiastic period as a Mason, let us now consider what else Bodley writes about Manning himself in the biographical essay.
Part II: Bodley’s other comments about Manning
Reading Bodley’s biographical essay about Manning is not an edifying experience. It is so littered with denigrating comments and factual errors that one wonders whether Manning really wished such a trivial person to be his biographer, as Bodley claims at length.
To be clear, we are not sharing Bodley’s comments in order to attack Manning – but rather to show what else has been said by the source of the “ten distinct heresies” anecdote.
Manning’s alleged doctrinal unsoundness
In the same section as the “ten distinct heresies” anecdote, after having levelled a shrill critique of Newman for several pages, Bodley praised Manning in a way which no Catholic could possibly appreciate:
“If there had been half a dozen Mannings, England would have run some risk of being converted – not necessarily to Roman Catholicism, for in all our years of close intercourse he never said a word to persuade me to join that religion, nor did he show forth its superiority except by his life and example – but to Christianity.”[8]
We should note that Newman is often criticised for his interpretation of Pius IX’s words on the dogma Extra ecclesiam nulla salus, to the point that he is accused of rejecting the dogma. Without entering into the justice of this claim,[9] let us see what Bodley says of Manning on this matter:
“As an Ultramontane, he had the repute of preaching from the text, ‘Extra ecclesiam nulla salus.’ Yet Manning had nothing in common with the bigoted converts who harp upon that theme – which is often the only bit of Latin they possess. Of his unreserved liberality, rarely imputed to him, he gave me the proof in his own handwriting.”
The Freemason then presents an 1890 letter from Manning, sent on the death of Bodley’s mother. The letter includes the following:
“Nothing is really changed but the visible presence and the audible voice. She is nearer to you than ever, and knows you more thoroughly than ever before.”[10]
Just as Bishop Donald Sanborn and Orestes Brownson accused Newman of having essentially remained a Protestant, with the Catholic Faith being an addition, so too did Bodley level the same accusation at Manning:
“Manning’s profound sense of the reality of the unseen world had something of that spirit which filled the English Puritans with their zeal for righteousness. The evangelical training of his youth was the basis of his Christianity, and the unwavering faith of his later life in the Roman doctrine was a development. […]”[11]
Indeed, Bodley’s essay has many suggestions that undermine Manning’s doctrinal soundness or zeal. At another point, he recounts a conversation with a Jesuit in France, who had said:
“Your having known Manning intimately quite explains why you never became a Catholic.”[12]
Manning’s alleged secularism
Manning was well-known for his concern for the poor and for social reform. Our Masonic biographer described this concern as follows:
“… Manning’s radicalism was British and secular.”[13]
He also described Manning’s concern for the poor in terms suggestive of naturalism:
“The problem set before us was part of that religious question which Manning held to be paramount in his valiant old age – a question older than dogma, older than the Church itself, signalized by its Founder when he said, ‘Misereor super turbam.’ Compassion for the multitude had become the chief article of the religion of this Prince of the Church. […]
“[A]fter a life of struggle, of triumph, and perhaps of disillusion, had no other wish, now that evening was come, than to apply the authority he had won to easing the burden of the poor, whatever their creed.”[14]
Bodley himself was a civil servant, and he describes the nature of Manning’s interest in this work – and his lack of interest in having it informed by Catholic principles – as follows:
“Manning made no attempt to introduce his opinions in the text of the Report, except in public discussion before the whole Commission. His aim in having the draft privately read to him seemed to be to improve its form and to educate its author.”[15]
Our Freemason returns to this point later in the text, and even praises Manning for being a Gallican:
“Although he called the scheme he advocated ‘Rome Rule’ he resented the direct intervention of Rome in the politics, either of Irish or of English Catholics. Just as he did not like the mission of Mgr. Persico in Ireland, so he could not abide the idea of a papal envoy accredited to the British government.
“The chief foe of Gallicanism in Europe, he justified his original lack of sympathy for the old English Catholics on account of their Gallican leanings and traditions. Yet in this respect he was a Gallican himself; though the old ultramontane antagonist of Dupanloup would have never pardoned the imputation.”[16]
On the subject of France, Bodley states that Manning found the embattled French episcopate “too reactionary”:
“He thought the French episcopate too reactionary for a democracy and foretold some of the troubles which have since fallen on the Gallican Church.”[17]
As such, Bodley claims, Manning was “delighted” with Leo XIII’s call for ralliement – the rallying of Catholics to the French republic:
“The French Catholic reactionaries were as indignant at Cardinal Lavigerie’s recognition of the Republic, under Leo XIII’s directions, as Cardinal Manning was delighted.”[18]
So much for Bodley’s presentation of Manning’s doctrine and politics. Let us now consider how he presents his character.
Manning, the allegedly lonely, trivial and vain gossip
On more than one occasion, the Masonic biographer refers to Manning’s loneliness – somewhat signalling non-Catholic clichés of the life of celibate clerics.
In the same breath, he presents Manning as being fond of salacious gossip:
“Sometimes he was such a weary, lonely old man that it became my turn to enliven him, and then he did not bid me discourse on the Holy Church throughout all the world, as seen on my travels. At a hint from him, like Praed’s hero:
I broached whate’er had gone the rounds
The week before of scandal“… and it diverted the Cardinal, for he was very human. After such a conference he would pat me affectionately on the shoulder, with: ‘Well, well, it’s a wicked old world, isn’t it?’
“[H]is occasional liking for gossip was merely the innocent and rare diversion of an ascetic old man who had a very sociable side to his nature.”[19]
Bodley also praised Manning for an allegedly irreverent sense of humour, giving the following example:
“When the final Report [for the Housing Commission, of which Manning was a member]was ready the Cardinal came to Whitehall to sign it. ‘You sent word,’ he said, ‘that the Commission was in articulo mortis, so I have come to administer the last Sacraments.’
“The humour of Cardinal Manning, like that of many ecclesiastics of all confessions, was at times what some people might call ‘profane.’”[20]
Bodley also praised – or rather, damned with faint praise – Manning’s conception of honesty. He explained how the Anglican Manning wrote a defence of Anglicanism, despite already believing significantly different ideas:
“While rejecting all imputations of bad faith made on the character of either of these eminent churchmen, those who have studied their lives cannot fail to recognise that Newman and Manning had not the same conception of honesty. Newman considered that he was justified in remaining within the English Church for some years, while his teaching was sending Oxfordmen over to Rome. Manning held that so long as he was receiving Church of England money and enjoying Church of England preferment, he was in honour bound to defend the position of the Church of England whatever his own increasing doubts.”[21]
While Bodley praises Manning for this “honesty”, it is difficult to see this as sympathetic – especially when he contrasts it negatively with Newman, whom he describes as teaching what he saw to be the truth regardless of where it led other men. Did Bodley think Newman should have changed what he taught, based on not liking the consequences? This appears to be a genuine case of Bodley praising something bad, and criticising something good.
Manning, allegedly proud, ambitious and petty
Our Freemason’s protestations of Manning’s lack of personal vanity ring hollow, given what else he writes in the essay. For example, he claims of Manning:
“[H]is love of power was great.”[22]
He also portrays Manning’s estimation of others as being rooted in pride. Speaking of the French bishops, prior to the ralliement:
“[H]e had said to me: ‘I fear that you will find my brethren of the French episcopate chiefly remarkable for their goodness.’ This was a harsh appreciation of the intelligence of the French bishops; but Manning was at times prone to measure men from his own intellectual height, especially those whose opinions, differing from his, he put down to ignorance.”[23]
On two occasions, he states that Manning’s hostility to Newman was ultimately not about doctrine at all, but rather based in a mere difference of temperament:
“At the same time the ordinary relations of life, even between ministers of the same Church, are regulated by their personal temperament not less than by their theological opinions […]
“[Wilfrid Ward’s] candid analysis shows that there was fundamental antagonism between Newman’s temperament and Manning’s.”[24]
And again:
“… as in the case of Newman, that the likes and dislikes which Manning cherished or inspired were a matter of temperament rather than of ecclesiastical faith or polity.”[25]
Bodley imputes extraordinary pettiness to Manning on this front. In the same breath that he tells us that “Manning sincerely believed that Newman was not an orthodox Catholic”[26] – a quote which is bandied around by some of Newman’s critics – Bodley also writes:
“[I]t is probable that one of his secondary objections to the matriculation of Catholics at Oxford was Newman’s advocacy of it.”[27]
Manning played a significant role in maintaining the prohibition on Catholics going to the universities. It is simply extraordinary to allege that his support of this prohibition, which caused so many difficulties for young Catholic men and their families, was based even in part on pettiness, rather than principle.
This alleged pettiness appears in the “ten distinct heresies” anecdote itself. Bodley writes:
“Either you are ignorant of the Catholic doctrine, or of the works of Doctor Newman”—he always said “Doctor Newman” in Oxford fashion, and never gave him the title of Cardinal.”[28]
But this alleged quote is sheer nonsense. First, anyone who is even slightly familiar with the time knows that everyone – including Newman’s own ordinary, Bishop Ullathorne – called him “Dr. Newman.” Further, Ullathorne himself,[29] along with Wiseman,[30] Grant,[31] Brown,[32] the Vicars Apostolic and many other notable figures at the time – including even Manning – were addressed with the same title. Butler’s biography of Ullathorne, for example, is replete with hundreds of examples of ecclesiastics addressed in this way, without their having any link with Oxford at all.
This usage appears to be rooted in the Catholic clergy being prohibited from using ecclesiastical titles, and to have become a habit amongst English Catholics.[33] This Freemason’s insinuation, that Manning calling him “Dr. Newman” was some kind of slight, is utterly without foundation.
Further, it is not true that Manning “never gave him the title of Cardinal.” Manning did indeed refer to Newman with this title. In 1879, he wrote a letter to Newman in Latin, using the title.[34] In 1884, he wrote another letter, saluting him as “My dear Cardinal.”[35] In 1889, he wrote a letter with the same salutation, saying “Do not forget me in your prayers. Every day I remember you at the altar. Believe me always.”[36] In 1890, he wrote him a birthday card, calling him “My dear Cardinal.”[37] He also referred to him with this title in his eulogy, at a Solemn Requiem Mass for Newman’s soul in 1890.[38]
Even if it were true, the refusal to use a title and rank bestowed by a reigning Roman Pontiff would hardly reflect well on Manning and his own relationship with Rome. Is Bodley suggesting that Manning was “recognising and resisting” Leo XIII?
With all this said, let us remind ourselves again that the Freemason behind such a portrait of Cardinal Manning – rivalling the odiousness of Lytton Strachey’s portrait of him in Eminent Victorians – is the sole authority for the idea that the same Cardinal accused Newman of “ten distinct heresies.”
We see no principle by which we should believe what Bodley says Manning said about Newman, without also believing what Bodley says about Manning himself.
So, is this appalling portrait of Manning accurate, or inaccurate? While Manning’s position on religious liberty and the relations between Church and State[39] appears to have been somewhat wanting in comparison with Newman’s,[40] and while we might share Newman’s surprise that Manning could join a debating society which involved him sitting in silence while the Resurrection of Christ was denied,[41] we affirm again:
We choose Manning’s character over Bodley’s testimony, and put no store behind the latter’s account of anything, at least without independent verification.
Part III: Manning and Newman
The Letter to the Duke of Norfolk
There can be no doubt that great tension, and perhaps even hostility, existed between these two men, for long periods of their lives. However, these tensions seem to have been resolved as time went on.
We must account for some of the following facts. Although Newman’s critics attack his 1875 Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, the vast majority of Catholics at the time saw it as a successful vindication of the doctrine of papal infallibility in relation to the civil obedience of the Catholic population of the United Kingdom.
This included Manning, and even W.G. Ward, both of whom had been ready to criticise his previous published works, and were notoriously exigent with any deviation from their conception of orthodoxy.
However, in spite of this positive response, even from Manning and Ward, it seems that the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith (Propaganda) received a complaint about it. Propaganda wrote to Cardinal Manning to solicit his opinion – and Manning wrote a letter defending Newman’s pamphlet. In his letter, we find the following:
“The heart of the revered Fr Newman is as right and as Catholic as it is possible to be.”
“His pamphlet exercises a most powerful influence upon the non-Catholics of [England].”
“In like manner, the effect of it on Catholics of an intractable disposition and incorrect ideas is a wholesome one.”
“I can with all confidence declare that Catholic Truth and the Authority of the Holy See will not in the slightest degree be diminished by the aforesaid pamphlet; and that never to this day did the unity of Catholics and the infallibility of the Vicar of Christ shine forth more brightly in England.”
“It is not a true and old friendship that is making supplication, but prudence, if I have any, which counsels me in this humble advice.”[42]
The extent of Manning’s critical comments were as follows:
“The substance of the recent pamphlet is sound; nevertheless one cannot but be sensible of certain propositions and of a certain method of reasoning which are wanting in accuracy of expression.”
Without conceding the point, we should note that Manning himself recognised that this was hardly a damning indictment:
“These slight blemishes are not apparent to non-Catholics, or to Catholics who are of defective instinct, and are therefore no hindrance to the salutary effect of the pamphlet. On the more clear-sighted among Catholics they have no influence at all.”
“For these reasons I think it is absolutely safe to abstain from any public action.”
He also gave some extrinsic reasons why Newman should be left alone:
“On the other hand, I apprehend a grave danger, were there the shadow of a public censure.”
“It would occasion the appearance, perhaps even more than the appearance, of division among Catholics in the presence of our enemies and of our non-Catholic friends.
“It would introduce among us all the evil spirits of hates and jealousies and personal bitterness.”
“A papal Bull would not suffice to do away with the belief that the Holy See had been spurred on to taking such a step by the English Ultramontanes.”
In this letter, he also referred to the “domestic controversy” which “aforetime blazed amongst us, but is now by the grace of God extinguished.”
Such a defence would be most strange on Manning’s part, if Bodley’s anecdote is to be believed.
We have already alluded to the cordial correspondence between the two, after Newman’s elevation to the cardinalate. Let us now finally consider the discourse which Manning delivered at a Solemn Requiem for the repose of Newman’s soul in August 1890, after the latter’s death a few days before.
Manning’s eulogy
One of the most striking comments in this discourse is the comparison Manning draws between Newman’s Grammar of Assent – a work frequently attacked by Newman’s critics today – with the work of St Thomas Aquinas himself:
“But we cannot forget that we owe to him, among other debts, one singular achievement. No one who does not intend to be laughed at will henceforward say that the Catholic religion is fit only for weak intellects and unmanly brains. This superstition of pride is over. St. Thomas Aquinas is too far off and too little known to such talkers to make them hesitate. But the author of the Grammar of Assent may make them think twice before they so expose themselves.”[43]
Other highlights of this discourse include the following:
“We have lost our greatest witness for the Faith, and we are all poorer and lower by the loss.
“When these tidings came to me, my first thought was this: in what way can I, once more, show my love and veneration for my brother and friend of more than sixty years?”
He then suggests that Newman had fundamentally changed the English perception of the Catholic Church for the better:
“[I]t must be said that, towards a man who had done so much to estrange it, the will of the English people was changed; an old malevolence had passed into goodwill.
“It is too soon to measure the work that has been silently wrought by the life of Cardinal Newman. No living man has so changed the religious thought of England. His withdrawal closes a chapter which stands alone in the religious life of this century. It has, for the most part, been wrought in silence; for the retiring habits of the man, and the growing weight of age, made his later utterances few.”
Manning repeats and reaffirms words that he wrote in 1861:
“[T]o you I owe a debt of gratitude, for intellectual help and light, greater than to any one man of our time; and it gives me a sincere gratification now publicly to acknowledge, though I can in no way repay it.”
He also spoke positively of the effect of Newman’s written works on the Church, praised above all “his humble and unworldly life,” and ended with the following:
“The history of our land will hereafter record the name of John Henry Newman among the greatest of our people, as a confessor for the faith, a great teacher of men, a preacher of justice, of piety, and of compassion.
“May we all follow him in his life, and may our end be painless and peaceful like his.”
Some might suggest that one is obliged to say such things at funerals and other such occasions.
But this is an incomprehensible response. One could remain silent about a man’s faults in such a discourse, or be restrained in one’s praise – but it would be morally impossible for a man of integrity to speak in such a way about another whom he considers guilty of spreading heresy. A person who could speak in such a way could not be taken seriously as a negative character witness, or as any kind of witness at all.
Far be it from us to impute such Janus-like deceit, and reckless prioritisation of a “eulogy custom” over the salvation of souls, to Cardinal Manning.
Conclusion
Let us state again the dilemma facing those who seek to use the “ten distinct heresies” anecdote against Cardinal Newman.
First, Bodley, the very man who tells us about this anecdote, was not only a Freemason, but also the author of a truly incredible portrait of Manning, presenting him as doctrinally unorthodox, lacking in zeal, a proto-secularist, petty, proud, and dishonest.
Bodley’s account must either be accurate or inaccurate.
If it is accurate, then of what value is Manning’s testimony? Or are we to accept Bodley’s account of Manning’s criticism of Newman, but nothing else? On what basis?
If, on the other hand, this Freemason’s account is inaccurate, then of what value is his testimony? Bodley’s own credibility – what little there was, given his trivial and frivolous character, so apparent in his work, and much lamented by his former employer Sir Charles Dilke – is also significantly undermined, along with the reliability of his recollection of this criticism.
In either case, as should be clear, this anecdotal criticism of Newman on the part of Manning is rendered worthless.
Further, as stated above, this alleged conversation presumably would have taken place between 1884 and 1891, placing it well after Manning had written to Propaganda in defence of Newman in 1875, after Newman’s elevation to the cardinalate in 1879, and shortly before delivering the eulogy in 1890. Chronologically, the anecdote collapses under its own weight, requiring Manning to be condemning Newman privately, even while he defended, honoured, and eulogised him.
While we might give some credence to such harsh words from Manning several decades before, the use of this language now reflects far worse on Manning than it does on Newman.
On the contrary, it appears that the tension between Manning and Newman was resolved towards the end of their lives, and that Manning’s previously hostile attitude had softened, such that he could appreciate Newman to a greater degree – which seems incompatible with what Bodley alleges.
Once again, we are not prepared to impute such a Janus-like character to Manning on the testimony of a Freemason. We believe, for all the reasons discussed in this piece, that Bodley’s anecdote, along with his work as a whole, is thoroughly scurrilous and unreliable, and that Newman’s critics should cast it away from their arsenal – or else accept Bodley’s account of Manning as a whole, to the great detriment of his character and reliability as a critic of Newman.
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J.E.C. Bodley, Cardinal Manning, The Decay of Idealism in France, The Institute of France; Three Essays, pp. 16-7. Longmans, Green and Co. London, 1912.
[1] P 364 https://archive.org/details/sircharlesdilkev0000royj_e0y3/page/364/mode/1up
[2] P. 2.
[3] P. 2
[4] https://home.barclays/news/2019/1/ledger-legends--oscar-wilde/
[5] https://www.freemasons-freemasonry.com/beresiner8.html
[6] “‘J & B’ are interpreted by Oscar, at the instigation of [J.E.C.] Bodley, as ‘St John the Baptist,’ on which Oscar, in his maiden speech to the Brethren and other non-Masonic guests, says:
‘… I have heard that St J(ohn) the B(aptist) was the founder of this order. I hope we shall emulate his life but not his death – I mean we ought to keep our heads!’
“His comments and wit are responded to with ‘Yells of laughter’. Scholars have been at a loss to understand why Oscar’s comments should have caused ‘Yells of laughter’, as recorded by Bodley in his diary.
“The explanation may lie in that the Masons present would have appreciated the substitution and thus the misinterpretation of the letters J & B as referring to John the Baptist’s. The words used in the Masonic ritual refer to the two pillars in King Solomon’s Temple as described 1 Kings 7:15-22:
‘...He erected the pillars at the portico of the temple. The pillar to the south he named Jakin and the one to the north Boaz The capitals on top were in the shape of lilies. And so the work on the pillars was completed’.
“Oscar himself will have remained unaware, having only gone through one single ceremony, of the correct words used in the ritual and thus his reference to John the Baptist will have been all the more amusing to those familiar with the correct wording.”
[7] Roy Jenkins, Sir Charles Dilke : A Victorian Tragedy, p 114. Fontana, 1968.
[8] P 25
[9] Mgr Joseph Clifford Fenton may have been correct in describing Newman’s explanation of Pius IX’s words – which include speaking of “exceptions” to the dogma outside the Church there is no salvation – as being “probably the least felicitous pages of all his published works.” However, we should not delude ourselves into denying that Newman’s interpretation was understandable. Very many persons have interpreted the words Quanto Conficiamur in a similar way, and we are obliged to note that Pius IX’s own words could have been expressed with greater clarity, if such confusion was to be avoided. Nor should this a controversial statement, given that several pages are sometimes required in order to establish correct interpretation of his comments.
Further, as we find in St Thomas’ Summa, with reference to law:
“Hilary says (De Trin. iv): ‘The meaning of what is said is according to the motive for saying it: because things are not subject to speech, but speech to things.’ Therefore we should take account of the motive of the lawgiver, rather than of his very words.” St Thomas Aquinas, Ia IIae, Q96, A6.
Obviously, such a principle cannot be pressed too far, nor can we adopt a dogmatic assumption that someone meant the right thing, as we have written elsewhere. Nonetheless, Newman’s comments on this matter convey that the “exceptions” in view are those who are not members of the Church, but are now commonly referred to as being not outside the Church. Similarly, there is no indication here that Newman considered it possible to be saved without divine faith, and it is clear that he held stricter views than most on the possibility of divine faith for non-Catholics.
All in all, while disagreeing with aspects of his comments in Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, it seems churlish to pick on Newman for views that so many held, especially given the positive reception of this book (discussed elsewhere in this piece).
[10] Pp 31-2
[11] A related issue is Manning’s daily use of a book of prayers and meditations, which had been handwritten by his late wife Caroline – who was never a Catholic, having died 14 years before Manning’s conversion. When he left this book to his successor Cardinal Vaughan, Manning attributed all the good that he might have done or been to her. This might well have been treated as an unforgivable crime if imputed to Newman.
David Newsome, ‘Cardinal Manning and his Influence on Church and Nation,’ British Catholic History, Vol. 21, Issue 2, October 1992, 136-151. Available here.
[12] P 37.
[13] P. 55
[14] P 8
[15] P 8
[16] P 45
[17] P. 54
[18] P. 41.
[19] P. 12.
[20] P. 9
[21] P 26
[22] P. 21
[23] P. 54
[24] P 18
[25] P 37
[26] P 15
[27] P 15
[28] Pp. 16-17
[29] Cf. p 90. https://www.newmanreader.org/biography/ward/volume2/chapter22.html and p. 69 https://www.newmanreader.org/biography/ward/volume2/chapter21.html
[30] P 252 https://www.newmanreader.org/biography/ward/volume1/chapter9.html
[31] P. 64. https://www.newmanreader.org/biography/ward/volume2/chapter21.html
[32] https://archive.org/details/lifetimesofbisho0001unse/page/21/mode/1up?
[33] Newman refers to being unable “to call our Bishops by their titles,” (source, p 261). As a comparable example, the Catholic Relief Act 1782 for Ireland forbade clergy from using “any symbol or mark of title whatsoever”.
[34] Letter B156-F008-D006, 1879-12-08, available at National Institute for Newman Studies
[35] Letter B061-A003-D075, 1884-05-08, available at National Institute for Newman Studies.
[36] Letter B061-A003-D076, 1889-09-30, available at National Institute for Newman Studies.
[37] Letter B061-A003-D077, 1890-02-22, available at National Institute for Newman Studies.
[38] See also a letter to Ullathorne, p 278. https://archive.org/details/lifetimesofbisho0000unse/page/278/mode/1up
[39] Cf. the following
Cardinal Manning on Toleration
CARDINAL MANNING, in reply to a letter addressed to him by a Methodist minister at Harrogate, says:
So far as I know, the English Catholics have made no representation to the government of Spain in reference to the Protestants in that country. So far as I know, the laws of Spain do not extend to the private conscience or belief of any one, but restrain only the public propagation of religious tenets or worship at variance with the religion of the Spanish people.
Under these circumstances no Catholic would consider anv representation to be justified. The Spanish people are united in faith and religion, and are fully justified in preserving their country and their households from the miseries of veligious conflict. And, believing as they do that this unity of faith and of worship is a divine law, they hold it to be of the highest oblization to transmit it fuithfuily to their children.
If the Catholics in England were a majority to-morrow they would molest no one in matters of religion by civil laws. In a pamphlet written bv me last vear, in answer to Mr. Gladstone, you will find this more fully treated than I am able to do now. The principles on which I answered then, and answer now, are these:
1. So long us the unity of a people in faith and worship exists unbroken, it is the duty of such a people to preserve it from being broken by public law.
2. When once that unity is broken up by the religious conflicts of a people, no civil laws can restore unitv, which can be restored only as it was created—that is, by the obedience of faith.
3. The public law of such a country can do no more than protect the freedom and welfare of all its subjects by restraining what is injurious to human society, such as the propagation of blasphemy, impiety, polygamy, etc. There is, therefore, no parallel between Spain and England, nor between a people united in one faith and a people unhappily and hopelessly divided.
In The Pilot, Volume 39, Number 43, 21 October 1876
https://newspapers.bc.edu/?a=d&d=pilot18761021-01.2.7&e=-------en-20--1--txt-txIN-------
[40] By contrast, Newman:
“It seems a light epithet for the Pope to use, when he calls such a doctrine of [liberty of] conscience deliramentum: of all conceivable absurdities it is the wildest and most stupid.”
John Henry Newman, Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, in Certain Difficulties felt by Anglicans in Catholic Teaching Considered, Vol. II, 275. Longmans, Green, and Co., London, 1900.
Also, here are three propositions from list of errors Newman drew up for condemnation in the Apologia:
There are rights of conscience such, that everyone may lawfully advance a claim to profess and teach what is false and wrong in matters, religious, social, and moral, provided that to his private conscience it seems absolutely true and right.
There is no such thing as a national or state conscience.
The civil power has no positive duty, in a normal state of things, to maintain religious truth.
[41] In a letter to Dean Church, dated 11 January 1876, Newman wrote:
“I hear that you and the Archbishop of York (to say nothing of Cardinal Manning etc) are going to let Professor Huxley read in your presence an argument in refutation of our Lord’s Resurrection. How can this possibly come under the scope of a Metaphysical Society. I thank my stars that, when asked to accept the honour of belonging to it, I declined.’ An’t you in a false position? Perhaps it is a ruse of the Cardinal to bring the Professor into the
clutches of the Inquisition.”
[42] Dom Cuthbert Butler, The Life and Times of Bishop Ullathorne, 1806-1889, Vol. II, pp 101-2. Benziger, New York, 1926.