“Now, now,” said one of them, “it becomes not to deal so triflingly with matters of weight.”
Campion dropped his eyes, demurely, as if reproved.
“Why, then,” he said, “if this example like you not, take another. I must believe that Saint Paul had a cloak, because he willeth Timothy to bring it with him.”
Again the crowd laughed; and Anthony laughed, too, with a strange sob in his throat at the gallant foolery, which, after all, was as much to the point as a deal that the Deans were saying.
But the second day’s debate, held in Hopton’s Hall, was on more vital matters; and Anthony again and again found himself leaning forward breathlessly, as Drs. Goode and Fulke on the one side, and Campion on the other, respectively attacked and defended the Doctrine of the Visible Church; for this, for Anthony, was one of the crucial points of the dispute between Catholicism and Protestantism. Anthony believed already that the Church was one; and if it was visible, surely, he thought to himself, it must be visibly one; and in that case, it is evident where that Church is to be found. But if it is invisible, it may be invisibly one, and then as far as that matter is concerned, he may rest in the Church of England. If not—and then he recoiled from the gulf that opened.
“It must be an essential mark of the Church,” said Campion, “and such a quality as is inseparable. It must be visible, as fire is hot, and water moist.”
Goode answered that when Christ was taken and the Apostles fled, then at least the Church was invisible; and if then, why not always?
“It was a Church inchoate,” answered the priest, “beginning, not perfect.”
But Goode continued to insist that the true Church is known only to God, and therefore invisible.
“There are many wolves within,” he said, “and many sheep without.”