OTHER CHARACTERISTICS
355
Newman’s
1
grow as jealous of their credit as heathen priests are of
that of the jewelry and ornaments that blaze upon their idols.
Among the buildings-out of religion which the mind sponta-
neously indulges in, the æsthetic motive must never be forgotten.
I promised to say nothing of ecclesiastical systems in these lectures. I
may be allowed, however, to put in a word at this point on the way
in which their satisfaction of certain æsthetic needs contributes
to their hold on human nature. Although some persons aim most
at intellectual purity and simplification, for others richness is the
supreme imaginative requirement.
2
When one’s mind is strongly
of this type, an individual religion will hardly serve the purpose.
The inner need is rather of something institutional and com-
plex, majestic in the hierarchic interrelatedness of its parts, with
authority descending from stage to stage, and at every stage objects
for adjectives of mystery and splendor, derived in the last resort
from the Godhead who is the fountain and culmination of the
system. One feels then as if in presence of some vast incrusted
work of jewelry or architecture; one hears the multitudinous liturgical
appeal; one gets the honorific vibration coming from every quarter.
Compared with such a noble complexity, in which asscending and
descending movements seem in no way to jar upon stability, in
which no single item, however humble, is insignificant, because so
many august institutions hold it in its place, how flat does evangel-
ical Protestantism appear, how bare the atmosphere of those isolated
1
Newman’s imagination so innately craved an ecclesiastical system that he can write:
“From the age of fifteen, dogma has been the fundamental principle of my religion: I know
no other religion; I cannot enter into the idea of any other sort of religion.” And again,
speaking of himself about the age of thirty, he writes: “I loved to act as feeling myself in my
Bishop’s sight, as if it were the sight of God.” Apologia, 1897, pp. 48, 50.
2
The intellectual difference is quite on a par in practical importance with the analogous
difference in character. We saw, under the head of Saintliness, how some characters resent
confusion and must live in purity, consistency, simplicity (above, p. 280 ff). For others, on
the contrary, superabundance, over-pressure, stimulation, lots of superficial relations, are
indispensable. There are men who would suffer a very syncope if you should pay all their
debts, bring it about that their engagements had been kept, their letters answered, their
perplexities relieved, and their duties fulfilled, down to one which lay on a clean table under
their eyes with nothing to interfere with its immediate performance. A day stripped so
staringly bare would be for them appalling. So with ease, elegance, tributes of affection,
social recognitions — some of us require amounts of these things which to others would
appear a mass of lying and sophistication.
356
THE VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
religious lives whose boast it is that “man in the bush with God
may meet.”
1
What a pulverization and leveling of what a gloriously
piled-up structure! To an imagination used to the perspectives of
dignity and glory, the naked gospel scheme seems to offer an alms-
house for a palace.
It is much like the patriotic sentiment of those brought up in
ancient empires. How many emotions must be frustrated of their
object, when one gives up the titles of dignity, the crimson lights and
blare of brass, the gold embroidery, the plumed troops, the fear
and trembling, and puts up with a president in a black coat who
shakes hands with you, and comes, it may be, from a “home” upon
a veldt or prairie with one sitting-room and a Bible on its centre-
table. It pauperizes the monarchical imagination!
The strength of these æsthetic sentiments makes it rigorously
impossible, it seems to me, that Protestantism, however superior in
spiritual profundity it may be to Catholicism, should at the present
day succeed in making many converts from the more venerable
ecclesiasticism. The latter offers a so much richer pasturage and
shade to the fancy, has so many cells with so many different kinds
of honey, is so indulgent in its multiform appeals to human nature,
that Protestantism will always show to Catholic eyes the almshouse
physiognomy. The bitter negativity of it is to the Catholic mind
incomprehensible. To intellectual Catholics many of the antiquated
beliefs and practices to which the Church gives countenance are,
if taken literally, as childish as they are to Protestants. But they
are childish in the pleasing sense of “childlike,” — innocent and
amiable, and worthy to be smiled on in consideration of the unde-
veloped condition of the dear people’s intellects. To the Protestant,
on the contrary, they are childish in the sense of being idiotic
falsehoods. He must stamp out their delicate and lovable redund-
ancy, leaving the Catholic to shudder at his literalness. He appears
to the latter as morose as if he were some hard-eyed, numb, monot-
onous kind of reptile. The two will never understand each other —
their centres of emotional energy are too different. Rigorous truth
and human nature’s intricacies are always in need of a mutual
1
In Newman’s Lectures on Justification, Lecture VIII. § 6, there is a splendid passage
expressive of this æsthetic way of feeling the Christian scheme. It is unfortunately too long
to quote.