The steersman, who appeared to be the skipper of a vessel, inquired for Cutler, and gave him a letter, who said as soon as he had read it, “Slick, our cruise has come to a sudden termination. Blowhard has purchased and fitted out his whaler, and only awaits my return to take charge of her and proceed to the Pacific. With his usual generosity, he has entered my name as the owner of one half of the ship, her tackle and outfit. I must go on board the ‘Black Hawk’ immediately, and prepare for departing this evening.”
It was agreed that he should land the doctor at Ship Harbour, who was anxious to see Jessie, which made him as happy as a clam at high-water, and put me ashore at Jordan, where I was no less in a hurry to see a fair friend whose name is of no consequence now, for I hope to induce her to change it for one that is far shorter, easier to write and remember, and, though I say it that shouldn’t say it, one that I consait she needn’t be ashamed of neither.
On our way back, sais the doctor to me:
“Mr Slick, will you allow me to ask you another question?”
“A hundred,” sais I, “if you like.”
“Well,” sais he, “I have inquired of you what you think of state affairs; will you tell me what you think about the Church? I see you belong to what we call the Establishment, and what you denominate the American Episcopal Church, which is very nearly the same thing. What is your opinion, now, of the Evangelical and Puseyite parties? Which is right and which is wrong?”
“Well,” sais I, “coming to me about theology is like going to a goat’s house for wool. It is out of my line. My views on all subjects are practical, and not theoretical. But first and foremost, I must tell you, I hate all nick-names. In general, they are all a critter knows of his own side, or the other either. As you have asked me my opinion, though, I will give it. I think both parties are wrong, because both go to extremes, and therefore are to be equally avoided. Our Articles, as dear old Minister used to say, are very wisely so worded as to admit of some considerable latitude of opinion; but that very latitude naturally excludes anything ultra. The Puritanical section, and the Newmanites (for Pusey, so far, is stedfast), are not, in fact, real churchmen, and ought to leave us. One are Dissenters and the other Romanists. The ground they severally stand on is slippery. A false step takes one to the conventicle and the other to the chapel. If I was an Evangelical, as an honest man, I would quit the Establishment as Baptist Noel did, and so I would if I were a Newmanite. It’s only rats that consume the food and undermine the foundations of the house that shelters them. A traitor within the camp is more to be dreaded than an open enemy without. Of the two, the extreme low-churchmen are the most dangerous, for they furnish the greatest number of recruits of schism, and, strange to say, for popery too. Search the list of those who have gone over to Rome, from Ahab Meldrum to Wilberforce, and you will find the majority were originally Puritans or infidels—men who were restless, and ambitious of notoriety, who had learning and talent, but wanted common sense. They set out to astonish the world, and ended by astonishing themselves. They went forth in pursuit of a name, and lost the only one they were known by. Who can recognise Newman in Father Ignatius, who, while searching for truth, embraced error? or Baptist Noel in the strolling preacher, who uses a horse-pond instead of a font, baptizes adults instead of infants, and, unlike his Master, ‘will not suffer little children to come unto him?’ Ah, Doctor, there are texts neither of these men know the meaning of, ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.’ One of them has yet to learn that pictures, vestments, music, processions, candlesticks, and confessionals are not religion, and the other that it does not consist in oratory, excitement, camp-meetings, rant, or novelties. There are many, very many, unobtrusive, noiseless, laborious, practical duties which clergymen have to perform; what a pity it is they won’t occupy themselves in discharging them, instead of entangling themselves in controversies on subjects not necessary to salvation! But, alas! the Evangelical divine, instead of combating the devil, occupies himself in fighting his bishop, and the Newmanite, instead of striving to save sinners, prefers to ‘curse and quit’ his church. Don’t ask me therefore which is right; I tell you, they are both wrong.”
“Exactly,” sais he.
“In medio tutissimus ibis.”
“Doctor,” sais I, “there are five languages spoke on the Nova Scotia coast already: English, Yankee, Gaelic, French, and Indian; for goodness gracious sake don’t fly off the handle that way now and add Latin to them! But, my friend, as I have said, you have waked up the wrong passenger, if you think I am an ecclesiastical Bradshaw. I know my own track. It is a broad gauge, and a straight line, and I never travel by another, for fear of being put on a wrong one. Do you take? But here is the boat alongside;” and I shook him by the hand, and obtained his promise at parting that he and Jessie would visit me at Slickville in the autumn.