"Again. The promise to guide the Church into 'all truth' had reference only to the integrity of truth before the mission of St. Augustine to England, and after the publication of the Tracts for the Times. The twelve hundred years between them, rather a long period in the life of the church, during which all Christians obstinately believed the supremacy of the pope, the office of the mother of God, and the mystery of transubstantiation—doctrines highly offensive to Puseyites—were merely an unfortunate parenthesis in the faithfulness of God, during which the catholic idea was lamentably obscured, and God forgot his 'promises.'

"Once more. The promise that the 'gates of hell' should 'never' prevail against the church meant only, according to the same school, that the principalities of evil, doing active work under the father of lies, should certainly prevail for a good many centuries, but that finally a little sect should rise up in the Church of England, able to discriminate with precision the errors of the Anglican, the Greek, and the Roman churches, and peacefully to conduct them all to the perfect truth which they had lost, to the unity which they had forfeited, and to a very remarkable and final triumph over the 'gates of hell.'

"The only true test of a theory was the result to which it led in practice. The branch-theory did not look well on paper, but perhaps it redeemed itself in its practical evolution. He would suppose, then, that the archdeacon, resolving to try his theory, set out on a foreign tour. Did he leave Dover an Anglican, and disembark at Calais a Roman Catholic? If so, at what particular spot in the Channel did he drop the Anglican articles and take up the Roman missal? Was it marked by a buoy? or was the transformation a gradual process, like the changes of temperature? On leaving Dover, he carried with him only two sacraments, which had grown into seven by the time he landed at Calais. Supposing the distance to be twenty-five miles, did he take up a new sacrament—he was going to say at every fifth milestone but the sea knew not such measures of distance. Were there fixed points at which he began to believe that transubstantiation was a holy mystery, and not a 'blasphemous fable;' that confirmation and extreme unction were divine sacraments, and not, as he had believed while breakfasting at Dover, a mere 'corrupt following of the Apostles'? Did he, in spite of the injunction with which they were all familiar, 'not to speak to the man at the wheel,' anxiously interrogate that individual as to the precise longitude in which it behoved him to cast away some Anglican delusion, and take up some Catholic truth? At what point of the voyage did the pope's supremacy begin to dawn upon him? And, finally, did the process of transformation, to which all branch-Christians were inevitably subject when they went to foreign lands, depend in any degree upon the weather? Was it quicker or slower in a heavy sea? or did sea-sickness in any way affect its development?

"The prolocutor of the house here rose, with an air of dignity becoming his official character, and expressed his conviction that the general feeling of the house was that the debate should now close. (Hear, hear.) That debate had proved a variety of things, which were more or less destructive to the national church, but nothing perhaps more clearly than this, that the public was right in regarding their discussions as very unprofitable to the interests of religion, either in their own land or in any other. … If the house shared his opinion, it only remained to determine what should be the place of their future meeting. (Applause.)

"Doctor Easy was delighted to be able to offer hospitality to his reverend friends. He lived, as they knew, in the immediate neighborhood of their fine old historical abbey, and his apartments were sufficiently spacious to afford a convenient place of meeting. He proposed, therefore, on the understanding that convocation was now happily extinct, that they should meet at his residence on that day week, when they could either resume the debate that had hitherto occupied them, or turn their attention to any other topic which might promise greater profit or amusement. (Loud cries of 'Agreed.') [Excunt omnes."

The second scene is introduced with the following description, the delicate humor of which is inimitable:

"Dr. Easy's drawing-room presented an animated appearance. Friendly greetings were exchanged, and decent hilarity pervaded the assembly. The gravest countenances relaxed from conventional severity. Archdeacons smiled as if in anticipation of coming enjoyment, and even deans responded to the salutations of the inferior clergy with unwonted urbanity. The bright mirrors, well-selected pictures, and far-reaching sofas which adorned Dr. Easy's saloon, and bore witness at once to the amplitude of his revenues and the refinement of his taste, were evidently felt to be an improvement on the decorous gloom of the Jerusalem chamber. Tables of marble and rosewood were covered with choice engravings and other works of art. Portraits of the Misses Easy attracted the attention of the younger clergy. The absence of reporters imparted to their elder brethren a welcome sense of liberty. Free but not undignified postures preluded the familiar dialogue in which each could take cheerful part, without the unpleasant fear of newspaper criticism. Convocation had become a social or family reunion, and was evidently satisfied with the change. Informal discussion preceded the coming debate, and themes which never fail to interest the clerical mind occupied the company. Dean Pompous disputed with a neighbor the exact pecuniary value of a benefice likely to be shortly vacant, and suggested a probable successor to the dying incumbent. Dean Primitive conversed with Archdeacon Chasuble on the recent letter of the primate, inviting the bishops 'in visible communion with the Church of England' to a council in September. Had his friend noticed, he asked, that remarkable announcement that 'such council would not be competent to make declarations, or lay down definitions on points of doctrine'? His friend had certainly noticed it. He had heard of councils, both general and local, which had assembled to decide on points of doctrine, but it was the first time he had ever heard of a council summoned with the avowed object of avoiding all such questions. In such cheerful talk the reverend guests continued to indulge, till their number being at length complete, there arose suddenly, amid the hum of general conversation, a loud cry of 'Chair, chair!' Then the host, leaning against a chimney-piece, bowed to his friends, and prayed them to be seated. Silence being restored, the debate commenced as follows:

"Dr. Easy rejoiced that his reverend friends had attended in such imposing numbers. In compliance with their invitation, he had selected a subject to be submitted to their notice. Their last debate, as they seemed generally to feel, had proved to themselves and to the public that authority neither did nor could reside in the English Church. It was certain that no individual clergyman, nor all the clergy put together, could decide any point of doctrine whatever; so that the day seemed close at hand if it had not actually arrived—when an Anglican would be at liberty either to accept or reject every truth contained in the Christian revelation. The learned prolocutor had well epitomized all the points of their last debate, and gracefully justified the characteristic decisions of privy council, when he said, or at least implied, that the practical result of all Anglican teaching, as of all Anglican history, might be expressed in such a formula as this, 'Christianity, from first to last, is simply a matter of opinion;' or, 'The primary object of the Christian revelation is to render it impossible for any man to know the truth with certainty.'

"In confirmation of this view of their position as members of the Established Church, he was happy to be able to call their attention to the recent declaration of one of her highest dignitaries. He regretted that he was not present with them, that he might have enforced in person the very striking statements which he was about to quote from a published volume of his sermons, with which he (Dr. Easy) had only become acquainted since their last meeting. The very Rev. Dr. Elliot, the present Dean of Bristol, had publicly asserted, without incurring the slightest shadow of reproach, these two momentous truths; (i) that the Church of England is, in all respects, a purely human institution; and (2) that her members are not bound in conscience to believe a single doctrine taught by her. But he would quote his exact words: