Chapter III: Part 3

The reader of these pages can now understand something of the nature of those stirring and exciting times in the ecclesiastical world in which Mr. Baker began his career, and of the events and questions about which we were daily conversing together. Bishop Whittingham approved of the principle of interpreting the Articles laid down in the Ninetieth Tract. On this principle, I gave my assent to them at my examination for orders, and could not otherwise have assented to them with a safe conscience. The ordination of Mr. Carey opened the way for us to go forward to the full extent of holding all the doctrines of the Council of Trent. The current of Oxford thought and literature was sweeping us in that direction. We had full access to it, and felt its power, although, as I have said, we were a good deal behind the movement, and ignorant of many things which were taking place in England. Mr. Baker was far in advance of me at the time our friendship began. He never had that feeling of hostility to the Roman Church with which so many were filled. {57} His early education, and the knowledge he had of Catholicity and of the Catholic clergy and laity in Baltimore, preserved him from that strong prejudice which I retained from the impressions of childhood, and which he aided me greatly to overcome. Neither of us ever looked on the Roman communion as heretical, schismatical, or essentially corrupt. We adopted, at first, the prevalent idea that it was in a schismatical position in England, and in those parts of the United States where we supposed the Protestant Episcopal Church had prior possession. We dropped this notion, however, after a while; and I remember well that it was a friend of ours, who was then and is now a minister of the Episcopal Church, who drove it finally out of my head by solid and unanswerable arguments. We could not agree with the bishop and his party in their anti-Roman sentiments, and disliked the offensive use of the terms "Romish" and "Romanist." We regarded the Catholic Church as composed of three great branches--the Latin, Greek, and Anglican--unhappily estranged from each other, and all more or less to blame for the separation. We did not believe in the supremacy of the Pope, in the full Catholic sense, as constituting the e essential principle of Catholic unity, or that communion with the Holy See was necessary to the very being of a Church. We did, however, come to believe by degrees in a certain Primacy, partly divine and partly ecclesiastical, as necessary to order, and the means of preserving intercommunion among all bishops. What we regarded as errors in Roman doctrine, we looked upon as much less fundamental than those Protestant errors which pervaded so extensively our own Church; we considered them much in the same light with which Bishop Griswold and his brethren regarded the peculiar doctrines of the Greek Church, as matters to be tolerated, until all branches of the Church could meet in a general council and make a final decision upon all controversies. Considering the divided and anomalous state of Christendom, we thought that both the Roman and Anglican bishops had an equally legitimate jurisdiction over their congregations, and that we were alike Catholics, and in real communion with the Universal Church of all ages and nations. {58} We thought it to be the duty of each one to remain in the communion where he had been baptized or ordained, and would have dissuaded any Episcopalian from joining the Roman communion, or any Roman Catholic from joining ours. I remember, one evening, after hearing an account given with great glee by a young man of the perversion of a Catholic, that Mr. Baker said, after the person in question had gone, "What a miserable story that was which M---- just related!" In my own little parish, there was an Irish servant-girl, whom I married to a young Englishman, my parishioner. I had no scruple in doing this, not reflecting that I was the occasion of the girl committing a sin against her own conscience. But when her mistress expressed great hopes of her coming over to our Church, and I began to think she might apply to me for confirmation, I carefully avoided encouraging the plan, and considered seriously what I ought to do if any such case should arise. Very strangely and inconsistently, Bishop Whittingham used to confirm the occasional perverts that fell in his way, although they had received Catholic confirmation. And this increased my difficulty. For I regarded an act of that kind as a sacrilege, and could not have been a party to it in any case, unless I had thought it right, according to my overstrained notions of obedience, to throw the whole responsibility on the bishop. As I have often said, we never entertained the thought of leaving our own Church. The conversation of those who talked doubtfully on this point was always most disagreeable to us both, although it was only in one or two instances that we fell in with any such persons.

Toward our own bishop we were strictly obedient. His violent antipathy to Rome and strong Anglican party spirit, joined with a timid, politic course of action toward the Low Church, ultra-Protestant party, prevented our giving him full and unreserved confidence. {59} Mr. Baker had seldom the occasion of conversing much with him. I was, however, constantly in his family, and very much in his society. I confided in him as a man of integrity, a sincere and generous friend, and a just and kind superior. But, from the first, there was a barrier which I had not expected to full and unreserved confidence, and a feeling that there was a secret and fundamental difference in our apprehension of the ideas which are contained in the forms of Catholic language. I have since discovered what this difference was, and I see now that he really believed in an invisible, ideal Catholic Church only, and in no other outward, visible unity, except that which is completed in a single bishop and congregation. This explains a remark made at that time by my father, who is thoroughly acquainted with the Protestant theology, on one of the bishop's essays; that, except his doctrine of three orders in the ministry, he was a pure Congregationalist. Mr. Newman, also, held the same view, until quite a late period in his Anglican life, as appears from his "Apologia." In Bishop Whittingham's own eyes, he was himself the equivalent of the whole Catholic episcopate. Consequently, what he and his colleagues and predecessors in the Anglican Church had decreed had full Catholic authority, and was just as final and authoritative as if the whole world had taken part in it. Hence the assertion of a despotic, exclusive authority of the Anglican Church, concentrated in his person, over everyone who acknowledged his jurisdiction. He would not permit us to attend any Catholic services, or read any Catholic books, as an ordinary thing. I read the tract of Natalis Alexander on the Eucharist, and the Life of St. Francis of Sales, in his library, before he made his prohibition. Afterward, he gave me himself a volume of Tirinus's Commentary on the Holy Scriptures; and these were the only Catholic books I read while I was in his family. I was very anxious to read Möhler's "Symbolism," but I did not; nor did I read Ward's "Ideal of a Christian Church;" because he desired me not to do so. {60} I even gave up using approved Anglican books of devotion in church, because he expressed his disapprobation of using any other book but the "Common Prayer." Mr. Baker was equally obedient with myself at that time; although afterward, when he was governed more by common-sense and a just sentiment of his own rights, he read whatever he thought proper. It was Anglican books which brought us onward toward the Catholic Church, and the attempt to live up to and carry out Anglo-Catholic principles. Those who are familiar with the Anglo-Catholic movement will understand at once what these principles and doctrines were. But for the information of others it may be proper to state them distinctly, as they were understood by Mr. Baker, and others like him, who approximated more or less toward the Catholic Church, whether they eventually joined her communion or not:

1. The visible unity of the Catholic Church.

2. The final authority of the Church in deciding doctrine,
and the authority of General Councils.

3. The necessity of an Apostolic Succession, and the divine
institution of the episcopate.

4. Baptismal Regeneration and Sacramental Grace.

5. The strictly sacerdotal character of the priesthood,
including the power of consecrating, and of absolution.

6. The Real Presence in the Eucharist.

7. The sacrificial character of the Eucharist.

8. The propriety of praying for the dead.

9. The merit of voluntary chastity, poverty, and obedience,
and of penitential works.

10. The value of ceremonies in religion, and the sanctity
of holy places and holy things.

{61}

However certain persons may modify and explain certain of these doctrines, no one can deny that the general drift of the writings of the Oxford or Anglo-Catholic school, together with that of the writings of the ancient Fathers and of the earlier English divines which are translated or republished by them, was to create and strengthen a belief in these doctrines. They were allowed to be tenable without infidelity to the Anglican Church, by persons in authority and others, who were themselves lower and more Protestant in their opinions. Now, I will take for a moment the position of an Anglo-Catholic, and, upon the basis of the principles I have just enunciated, I will prove that an attitude of hostility to the Roman Church is wrong and absurd, and that the only consistent and tenable ground is that now taken by the Unionists, represented by the _Union Review_.

"The Latin, Greek, and Anglican branches of the Catholic Church
constitute but One Visible Church, though their unity is
impaired and in part interrupted by mutual estrangement. As a
member of the Anglican Church, I look upon the Greek Church as
essentially sound and orthodox, and, if allowed to do so, would
wish to receive the sacraments, or, if a clergyman, to
officiate as such, in the churches of that Rite, if I happened
to be in a place where it was established. I look upon the
Latin Church, whose doctrine is the same with that of the Greek
Church, with the single exception of the Papal Supremacy, in
precisely the same light. Whatever I may think of the extent of
power claimed by the Bishop of Rome, I must allow that, in a
state of perfect intercommunion between all parts of the
Church, the chief place in the Catholic hierarchy and the right
of presidency in a general council belong to him. It is most
desirable that the Greek and Anglican Churches should be
restored again to communion with the Roman Church, and all
controversies respecting doctrine be definitely settled.
Meanwhile, the spirit of charity ought to be cultivated, and
all possible means taken to remove prejudice and
misunderstanding. In the present state of confusion and
irregularity, the ancient canons respecting one bishop in a
city cannot be considered as binding; and therefore Roman,
Greek, and Anglican congregations, formed under the authority
of bishops who are in regular communion with their own branch,
are equally legitimate and Catholic, wherever they may be.
{62}
The decisions of the particular national synods of the Anglican
branch have no final authority, and are only binding so far as
they declare the doctrines of the Universal Church. They are to
be interpreted in the 'Catholic sense,' and are strictly
obligatory only on those who have made a promise to maintain
them, and upon those only in the sense in which they are
imposed by authority, under censure. It is the Catholic Church,
and not the Church of England or the Protestant Episcopal
Church of the United States, of which I am a member by baptism,
and therefore I have no duties to either of those
ecclesiastical organizations, except such as arise out of their
relation to the great Catholic body, and are compatible with
the absolute allegiance I owe to its teaching and law's."

Such I conceive to be a statement of the only view an Anglican can consistently take, unless he plants himself upon the common Protestant ground. According to this, it is ridiculous for him to abstain from going to Catholic services, reading Catholic books, and cultivating the acquaintance of Catholic clergymen and lay-people. The pretence of deposing or degrading clergymen, because they pass to the communion of Rome, is an absurd and impotent attempt at retaliation. What sin can there be in going from St. Paul's Church, where the Mass is in English, celebrated by a priest of the Anglican Rite, under the obedience of the Catholic Bishop Whittingham, to the Cathedral, where the Mass is in Latin, celebrated by a priest of the Latin Rite, under the obedience of the Catholic Archbishop Spalding? How can there be the guilt of apostasy involved in such an act? How can a person "abjure the Catholic Communion" at Rome, by joining that which is confessedly the principal branch of the Catholic Church?

{63}

A person who believes in this theory of branches may say it is inexpedient and unwise for individuals to leave their particular connection, that it perpetuates the estrangement, and that it is better to wait for the time when the "English Branch" will be reunited bodily to the parent tree. They cannot pretend, however, that this is any thing more than a matter of private opinion. The only legitimate means they have for keeping their adherents from leaving them are argument and persuasion. It avails nothing to say that if free access to Roman Catholic services and books, and, in general, free intercourse with us is permitted, and the charge of schism, violation of baptismal or ordination obligations, &c., is abandoned, we shall gain over a great number of their members. What of that? Those who adopt a theory are bound to adhere to it. If this Anglo-Catholic theory has any thing in it, it ought to be able to sustain the shock of a collision. We have nothing but argument and persuasion on our side. Why should their influence be dreaded? If Catholic principles, sympathies, and practices gravitate toward Rome, let them gravitate; it is a sign that the centre of gravity is there. That the Oxford movement did gravitate toward Rome by its original force is a plain fact, proved by the number, the character, and the acts of those who have become converts to the Catholic Church. Not that their testimony is a direct proof that the Catholic Church is divine and infallible. This rests on extrinsic, objective evidence. But it is a direct proof that the pretence of the Catholicity of the Anglican communion cannot furnish full and complete satisfaction to conscientious minds that have imbibed Catholic principles. It professed to do so; but it has failed. Those who still cling to it cannot deny that the dissemination of their views generally produces in those who embrace them, at some period of their mental history, a deep misgiving respecting the safety of their position. This is not so in the Catholic Church. Catholics, who retain a firm faith in the principles of Catholicity, and endeavor to obey their consciences, never have a misgiving that they are out of the Church, or that there is any other church which has a better claim to be regarded as the Catholic Church. {64} If human reason has any certitude, if the human mind is governed by any fixed laws, if the concurrent judgments and convictions of great numbers of the wisest and best men have any value, if there is any such thing as logic, these considerations ought to have weight.

But I am weary of chasing this Protean phantom of Anglo-Catholicism through its shifting disguises, and its labyrinthine mazes. And I gladly return to the theme of my narrative.

Francis Baker was ordained deacon on the 16th of February, 1845, and in the following August was appointed assistant minister of St. Paul's Church. During the interval he was performing occasional duty in assisting the rectors of different parishes in Baltimore, under the bishop's direction. His first sermon was preached in St. Paul's Church, Baltimore, on the Sunday afternoon of his ordination day, which was the Second Sunday of Lent. On the evening of the same day he preached at St. Peter's. His text was taken from the I. Epist. John, iv. 4: "_And this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith_." It was a beautiful sermon, and perfectly Catholic in its doctrine and tone. I regret that it is not extant, for I think that if it were, it would be worthy of a place among the sermons published in this volume. In it he extolled a life of virginity in glowing language, as the means of a closer union with Christ; and its whole scope was to present the lives of those who have renounced the world, as models of the highest Christian perfection. I read prayers for him that evening, and we walked home afterward together. We separated in silence, neither of us expressing his thoughts, but both seeming to feel a kind of blank and unwilling sense of disappointment, as if dimly conscious that our Catholicity was an unreal and imaginary thing. At St. Paul's Church his eloquence took the congregation completely by surprise. {65} His quiet, unassuming character had not prepared even his friends to expect that he would manifest so much power as a preacher. From this time his reputation was fixed at the highest point, and he always sustained it. There were several very excellent preachers in the Maryland Diocese, but I believe it was generally admitted that Mr. Baker surpassed them all, and the most intellectual and cultivated people ever looked upon his sermons as affording to their minds and hearts one of the choicest banquets they were capable of enjoying. I have never known a young clergyman to be more generally and warmly admired and loved than Mr. Baker. Nevertheless, applause and popularity did not affect him in the least, and the pure mirror of his soul was never tarnished by vanity and self-complacency. Even then, his spontaneous desires and longings seemed to forecast the apostolic vocation which was in store for him. He had an ardent desire for a religious life, and was especially attracted by the character and life of Nicholas Ferrar, and by the history of the little religious community which he formed at Little-Gidding. In our walks we often conversed about the practicability of establishing a religious house which would give us the opportunity of working among the neglected masses of the people, and looked about for some suitable building for this purpose. There was a scheme talked of for establishing a monastic and missionary institute on the eastern shore of Maryland, and there were eight or ten clergymen who would have been eager to join in the enterprise if the bishop had been courageous enough to begin it. But the fear of Low Churchmen prevailed, and nothing was ever done. We very soon found that the work of "Catholicizing" the Episcopal Church in Maryland got on very slowly and miserably, through the open opposition of the Low Church party, and the dead, inert resistance of the old High Church. {66} At an early period of Bishop Whittingham's administration, the Rev. Henry V. D. Johns, rector of Christ Church, bade him open defiance, and preserved that attitude until his death, many years afterward. The bishop preached and published two remarkably learned and able sermons on the priesthood, one of which was preached at the institution of Mr. Johns. At the close of it he exhorted the parishioners to receive their new rector as their divinely-appointed teacher, and to submit to his instructions with docility. The same night, Mr. Johns preached a sermon which contained a violent attack on the bishop's doctrine, and made a solemn declaration, sanctioned by an appeal to Heaven, that he would evermore oppose that doctrine, and preach the contrary in his pulpit. This was the signal for hostilities, and a sharp controversy arose out of the affair, which was renewed from time to time, as occasion offered. The bishop made one or two more efforts to bring out his Reformed Catholicism in sermons or charges, and then desisted, seeming to be more anxious to defend himself against the charge of Popery than to attack Protestantism. In regard to the outward ceremonial of religion, the efforts made to improve it were equally feeble and abortive. There was a miserable little church in an obscure street, called St. Stephen's, with an altar something like a marble-topped wash-stand, and some curtains covered with roughly-executed symbols, such as mitres, chalices, keys, etc., where we played a little at Catholics with so much success that a good old lady said it was worse than the Cathedral. The opposition which was excited by these innocent and absurd little ecclesiological essays were such that the parish was nearly ruined, and the rector in great alarm speedily banished all innovations, and brought his chancel and his windows back to the old-fashioned style. There was a little preaching in the surplice, a little display of crosses, and a great deal of Catholic talk in private circles, and very little else. The attempt to make the Protestant Episcopal Church in Maryland exhibit herself as the Reformed Catholic Church was a most signal failure. {67} The _True Catholic_ labored faithfully to defend Mr. Newman from the charge of Romanizing until he actually joined the Catholic Church, and then took to decrying him and other converts as much as possible. It then took up Archdeacon Manning, H. W. Wilberforce, and Marshall, loading its pages with extracts from their writings, until all these gentlemen followed Mr. Newman's example. What it did afterward, and whether it has survived until the present time or not, I do not know. The cassocks were silently and gradually dropped. Some of the young clergymen married, and took to walking sedately in the old paths, and others left the diocese. The few who could not unlearn or forget the Catholic principles they had imbibed, retired into themselves and kept quiet. And thus matters went back to their old condition of a sort of uneasy compromise between High and Low Church, on the basis of a common hostility to Rome.

I remember well the startling effect produced by the news of Mr. Newman's conversion. Whatever his modesty may induce him to say in disclaimer, he was the leader, the life, and the soul, of the Oxford movement: his genius and character had acquired for him in this country, as well as in England, a sway over a multitude of minds such as is seldom possessed by any living man. The news of his conversion was brought to Baltimore by Bishop Reynolds, of Charleston, who had just arrived from Europe. I heard it from Bishop Whittingham, one evening, after I had been to prayers in St. Paul's. I passed him on the steps and went out, and heard him say in a sorrowful tone, "Newman has gone." It went to my heart as if I had heard of my father's death. I did not wish to speak with anyone on the subject, for, although I was not prepared to follow him, yet I could not speak harshly or lightly of the decision of a man whose wisdom and goodness I venerated so highly, or endure to hear the comments of others. {68} Mr. Baker and I had no opportunity to converse together very much on this matter, or indeed on any other. Our separation was at hand, under circumstances painful and trying to both. He was confined to the chamber of his brother Alfred, who was dangerously ill with the varioloid, and, of course, could neither make or receive any visits. I was obliged to leave Baltimore a few days after, for North Carolina, by the order of my physician. I took a hurried farewell of Mr. Baker, at the door of his house, with very little expectation, on either side, of ever meeting again. He had assisted me very frequently in the duties of my little parish in the suburbs, during several months of declining health, and after my departure he continued to visit the congregation and preach for them occasionally. It was during the autumn of 1845 that I left Baltimore. At the close of the Holy Week of 1846 I was received into the Catholic Church, at Charleston, S. C., and in March, 1847, I was ordained priest by the Right Rev. Dr. Reynolds, the bishop of the diocese.

Before leaving Edenton, N. C., where I resided during the previous winter, I wrote to Mr. Baker to inform him of my intention, and I continued to write to him occasionally, receiving letters from him in return, for some months afterward. The correspondence on his part soon became constrained and formal, and at last was stopped at his request. For the three years, immediately following my ordination, I saw or heard nothing of him. I continued to hope for his conversion, and often offered up the Holy Sacrifice for that intention. By degrees, however, the thought of him passed away from my mind, and I ceased to anticipate that the broken thread of our friendship would ever be re-united. I supposed that he had become permanently settled at some halting-place between Protestantism and the Catholic Church, and would live and die contentedly in his chosen position as an Episcopalian clergyman, forgetting his earlier and nobler aspirations as among the dreams of youth. {69} For the history of his mind during this period, I am indebted to the letters which he continued to write to the bosom friend who has been already spoken of, and the information which that friend has given me personally. I am also indebted to the same source, chiefly, for the history of his progress toward Catholicity, during the entire period of seven years which elapsed before his reception into the Catholic Church. For, although I saw him repeatedly during the last three years of this period, he was extremely guarded and reserved in his language; and during our common life together, as Catholics, afterward, I never asked him for any detailed account--the subject having, in great measure, lost its interest for us both.

I have reason to believe that at the time of my conversion he had his misgivings, and indeed his first letters to me showed a disposition on his part to enter into a free discussion of the matter with me. He soon quieted these misgivings, however, and determined to throw himself heart and soul into the work of realizing Catholicity in his own Church. He even underwent a reaction which awoke a feeling of hostility to the Roman Church, and of anger against me, for having, as he expressed it, "spoiled their plans." His good and true friend of past days, who had continually encouraged and urged him on from the first to follow boldly in the footsteps of those who led the advance of the Oxford movement, would not, however, permit him to rest in this state. He was determined himself not to shut his eyes to the difficulties and perplexities of his position, and he would not allow his friend to do it. He never ceased to unbosom freely all his own doubts and disquietudes, to communicate the results of his continual reading and reflection, and to stimulate his friend to push on in the study of Catholic principles and doctrines until he had reached a final and satisfactory result. Judging from the letters of Mr. Baker which I have before me, I should think that both his misgivings about his own position and his bitter feelings toward the Roman Church gave place to a quiet resolution of adhering to the position he had taken, before Mr. Newman's conversion and that of others of lesser note had startled his repose. {70} For two or three years his letters do not indicate a disquieted mind, but are often full of hope for the prospects of the Anglican communion. By degrees a change is manifest, and it is easy to see the progress of a conviction slowly forcing itself upon him that the Episcopal Church is essentially Protestant, and all the efforts made to place her in a Catholic light and attitude a mere illusion. The workings of a mind and heart struggling with doubt and disquiet, weary of a hollow and unreal system, weaned from all worldly hopes, detaching itself from all earthly ties, and striving after the truth and after God, become more and more manifest, until at last, after seven long years, the result is reached. I have hesitated much before determining to insert a portion of these letters in this narrative. Certain motives of delicacy toward my departed friend and others would incline me to withhold them. But their perusal has seemed to me to exhibit so much more clearly than any narrative of mine could do, the transparent purity of the heart from which they emanated, and the wonderful workings of divine grace upon it, that I have judged it best to prefer the profit of those who will read this book to private feeling. Some of them, which are merely descriptive, I have inserted, because there could be no reason for withholding them, and they will give pleasure to the friends of the writer, who value every thing which came from his pen. In regard to others, which were private and confidential, I have used the utmost caution to select only those portions which are necessary to a full exhibition of the writer's gradual progress to the Catholic Church.

I will first quote some extracts from the correspondence of an earlier period, which show the first blossoms of the later ripened fruit of Catholic faith and holiness in the pure and upright soul of Francis Baker.

{71}

From Francis A. Baker To Dwight E. Lyman.

"Baltimore, _February_ 20, 1843.

"My Dear Dwight:

* * * * *

"Of course you have seen the letter 'Quare Impedit.' Is it not
very caustic? I cannot but think it defective in the
non-expression of what the writer doubtless believed, the sense
in which the Council of Trent's words as to 'immolation' are
true. It does not sufficiently bring out the true and
unfigurative sense in which the sacrifice on the altar is the
same with the sacrifice on the cross.

* * * * *

"As I go on with my studies, my dear Dwight, I become more and
more attracted to them, and, I hope, more and more of a
Catholic. Indeed, I seem to myself to live in a different world
from that around me, and to be _practical_ I find one of
the most difficult attainments. But to be frank with you, in
looking forward to the future, the situation of a parish priest
seldom fills my mind. I almost always look to the monastic life
in some of its modifications. It is true that on the score of
fitness I have no right to look forward to such privileges; but
from some circumstances which you will appreciate, my heart has
been drawn more entirely from the world than most persons of my
age. But the future belongs to God, and I must now prepare
myself for the duties which seem pointed out to me. I have not
spoken to anyone else of this long-cherished desire, and,
indeed, there are at present insurmountable difficulties in the
way; but I do not look upon it is as so visionary a scheme as I
once did.

* * * * *

"Your brother told me of his intended repairs in his church. I
am delighted to hear it. It will not be long, I hope, before
such is the universal arrangement of our churches. Only one
thing will be lacking (if he has a cross), the candlesticks. I
have come to the conclusion that we have a perfect right to
them, for they will come in by the Church common-law, as the
surplice did.
{72}
I do not suppose it would be proper for a priest to introduce
them without his ordinary's sanction. I do wish a charge would
come out recommending the Catholic usages. I don't give any
weight to the cry of some about us, to wait for such things
until Catholic doctrines are received. I cannot but think that
such things would have a reflex influence on doctrine. While we
are externally so identified with the Protestants, it will be
hard to convince the world that we have any claims to antiquity
or Catholicity. Pray use your influence to have a solid altar,
and as large as may be."

* * * * *

"Baltimore, _June_ 9, 1843.
"It was a great disappointment to me not seeing you here at the
Convention, and there has been going on here so much of
interest to you. The Roman Council you have heard all about, I
am sure. I was not present, of course, at any of their services
or meetings, nor did I see any of their processions, but from
all I have heard, and from what I have seen at other times, I
think it must have been a most glorious spectacle. I do not
think I am fond of pageantry, but it must have been
heart-stirring to see the Church coming out of the sanctuary
which she has in her own bosom, and going forth to take
possession of the world in the name of her ascended Lord.
Imagine a band of sixteen venerable bishops, with surpliced
acolytes and vested priests, with their lights and cross and
crosier, all chanting in murmuring responses some old
processional chant; the effect of the whole heightened by the
brightness of a May sun reflected from many a golden stole and
glittering mitre! I am sure the sight would have set you crazy.
Indeed, I feared myself that it would present an unfortunate
contrast with our neat, dress-coat clergy. But our own
Convention had far more of an ecclesiastical appearance this
year than it ever had before.
{73}
The daily matins at six o'clock, the Litany at nine, and the
full Mass service at twelve, all seemed as if we were suddenly
transplanted into some other age of the church, when she
understood and realized her heavenly mission better than in
these later days. Every day after the reading of the Gospel,
all joined in a solemn profession of the old Nicene faith; then
the Holy Sacrifice was offered, and all were allowed to partake
of the Holy Mysteries."

* * * * *

"Baltimore, _June_ 9, 1845. "When the ordination is
appointed, if possible, I will let you know; and if you are
disposed to treat me better than I did you, I should be truly
glad to see you here on that occasion. At all events, my dear
Dwight, do not forget to pray for me. I regret exceedingly that
the advantage of the regular Ember season will be lost to me,
for I feel in need of all the assistance which the united
prayers of the Holy Church might be expected to procure. As
soon after my ordination as may be, I wish to go to work in
such a department as may be assigned me by the will of God and
the direction of the bishop. I wish not 'to choose my way,' but
as far as possible to submit to the direction of others, my
superiors; for that I believe to be the very secret of
ministerial influence. In my case, however, there can hardly be
any trial of virtue in this course, for with such a bishop as
God has placed over us, submission is no sacrifice. I have
deliberately resolved to maintain a single life, and acquainted
the bishop with my determination. I think he approved of my
resolution, though he dissuaded me from taking a vow to that
effect. Although I acquiesced in his advice, yet I shall
consider myself from the date of my ordination pledged to
preserve that state, by the grace of God. All this is strictly
between ourselves, for I abhor to _talk_ about such
things. I consider this a matter, in our Church at least, of
strictly individual choice, and while I have no hesitation
myself in adopting the course I have mentioned, I should
despise myself and think but poorly of my own motives, if I
should ever think less of another for exercising differently
his Christian liberty."

* * * * *

{74}

The foregoing extracts are taken from letters written before the time of my leaving Baltimore, and of course, therefore, before the thought of joining the Catholic Church had entered any of our minds. Those which follow were written at various times during the period of seven years, between 1846 and 1853, which was the period of transition in Mr. Baker's mind, ending in his conversion.

"Baltimore, _July_ 9, 1846.
"Every thing has been remarkably quiet in Baltimore for the
last month. There seems to be nothing of the excitement that
for a while prevailed on the subject of 'Roman tendencies' and
'perversions.' I know not whether the 'Few Thoughts' of Mr. H.,
which is just published here, and which I suppose you have
seen, will awaken controversy; but should suppose not, from the
occasion and nature of the publication, it being merely an
explanation of his own course, and written immediately on the
determination to take that course. I have heard the pamphlet
spoken of as 'a weak production,' as 'doing Mr. H. no credit.'
Are we not too apt to speak so of the work of an opponent? Of
course the essay is not a learned and systematic argument, nor
does it profess to be so; but it is (as it appears to me)
honest, to the point, and well expressed. I speak this of the
production: as an argument, it of course resolves into the
great Roman plea of _Visible Unity_.

"I understand that a Mr. ----, a presbyter of our Church, and
alumnus of the General Theological Seminary, made his public
abjuration of Protestantism in St. Mary's Chapel, on Sunday
last. I suppose you have seen the account of ----'s defection.
I was told, a few days ago, that ---- has made up his mind to
'go;' but as it was a Roman Catholic who told me, I did not
know but he might be misled.
{75}
Do you know any thing about it? I received, a few days ago, a
letter from H. It was merely a friendly letter, without
controversy, describing his mode of life, written very
cheerfully and kindly. It will give me pleasure to show it to
you when you come to Baltimore to see me, to which visit I look
forward with great pleasure. We will then talk about all these
strange events and times, and on our thoughts and feelings
concerning them. Adieu, adieu, my dear friend. Let us keep
close to each other; but first, close to God, and in all things
obedient to His will. Again adieu, my dear, good friend."

It is easy for one who knew intimately the writer of this letter to see that his heart was sad and disquieted when he wrote it, although he does not directly say so; especially from the unusual warmth and tenderness of his expressions of attachment to his friend. About two months after he wrote it, the time came for him to pass his examination for priest's orders. The circumstances under which his examination took place redoubled this disquiet, and caused him to hesitate much about receiving ordination. In the course of his examination, he was asked if he accepted the Thirty-nine Articles. It appears that he was not able to accept the reasoning of Tract No. 90, upon which he must have gone at his ordination to the diaconate, and accordingly he replied boldly that he rejected some of the Articles, and could not in any way give his assent to them. I do not know how many of them he qualified in this way; but I know that one of them was the thirty-first, as to its second section: "Wherefore, the Sacrifices of Masses, in the which it was commonly said that the priest did offer Christ for the quick and the dead, to have remission of pain and guilt, were blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits;" and I think, that, another was the twenty-second: "Of Purgatory," etc. {76} A discussion arose among his examiners upon the propriety of passing him. The bishop endeavored to waive the whole question, and succeeded in preventing his rejection. The rector of St. Peter's, who was the chairman of the committee, and whose duty it was to present the candidates, declined, however, to present Mr. Baker, though, with a singular inconsistency, he privately urged him to be ordained. Mr. Baker almost resolved to stop where he was, and regretted afterward that he had not done so. He suffered himself, however, to be overruled by the authority and persuasion of the bishop, and as Dr. Wyatt also excused himself from taking the responsibility of presenting him, he was presented by another presbyter, and ordained on the 20th of September, 1846. His health as well as his spirits were impaired by these troubles; and, therefore, a short time afterward he made a trip to the North, in order to recreate both body and mind, and with the hope of driving away, by change of scene, the unpleasant thoughts which haunted him. In this he was in a measure successful. He appears to have made a resolute determination to throw himself into his ministry, and to put away all doubt from his mind. He went in search of all that was attractive and encouraging in his own communion, and his letter, giving an account of his trip, shows that his attachment to it was deepened and renewed by the impression made on him by the beautiful churches, the tasteful and decorous services, and the agreeable, intellectual men of congenial spirit with himself, described by him in such a pleasing style. It was after this journey that he wrote to me, expressing a firm determination to adhere to his chosen position, assigning for his chief reason the "signs of life" which he saw in the Episcopal Church; and he soon after, as I have said, dropped his correspondence with me, as one separated from him by a barrier which was never to be passed over.

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"Baltimore, _November_ 10, 1846.
"I enjoyed my visit to the North quite as much as your or my
own expectations promised. I think the jaunt was in every way
beneficial to me. I spent a week delightfully in New York,
where a new world, as it were, of churches was opened to me,
and had a most happy (what I call) _heart_ visit to Troy.
But you will expect to hear particulars. To commence with the
commencement, then, what shall I say of Trinity Church? In some
respects it is far beyond my conceptions. The first impression
was really overpowering. It was on Saturday morning, and but
for a few minutes, and it seemed to me that both externally and
internally the building was most majestic and beautiful. I next
saw it on Sunday morning, to great advantage. It was communion
day, and fourteen priests in their surplices were in attendance
(the Convention having adjourned late the night before). The
church was full, but very orderly--the music grave and
fine--though I confess to you (pardon my ignorance and
temerity) it was not exactly as I should have liked. It seemed
to me to want _impressiveness_ or _expression_. It
was neither soothing, nor, _to me_, very grand. Dr. ----
preached. I never saw the Holy Communion celebrated and
_administered_ in any church with so fine effect. The
scene, when the choir was filled with the worshippers waiting
for their turn to receive, was truly majestic. On that day I
went away with a most agreeable impression. After I had been
there, how ever, in the week, and especially as I became
familiar with it, I was very conscious of the great defect and
coldness of the chancel. The meanness of the altar is
positively too bad; and the _unmeaningness_ of the heavy
altar-screen is curious. The window is not just up my taste;
but I do not think so badly of it as some do. On the whole, I
think there can be no doubt that the chancel is a failure; but
the nave is very fine, and the doorway, the organ-gallery, the
organ, the tower, and the side-porches most beautiful.
{78}
On the afternoon of the Sunday, I went to Grace Church,
listened to the music---exquisite _of its kind_--saw the
images!!! looked at the church, and examined the stained
windows. I cannot agree with you about this building. Certainly
it has some beauties. The external appearance is very fine, and
the single figure of our Blessed Lord, in the east window,
beautiful; but I must say that the whole of the interior
presented to me a look of _finery_, and an absence of
solemnity, most unpleasant in the sanctuary. The windows were
simply distressing. It will seem very Protestant after this to
say it, but still it is true, that the church looked very like
a Roman Catholic Church to me; perhaps it would be truer to say
_Romish_, for it seemed to me in keeping with some things
we call by this name. I was disappointed in Grace Church; for I
went prepared to like it, from your representation, and from my
confidence in your taste.

"Next in order of my seeing, but really, perhaps, first of all,
is the Church of the Holy Communion. This is really a gem. I
was there at evening prayer on a week-day, and I left with a
grateful heart that it was granted me to worship there. I am
not much of an architect, but the building seemed to me
_perfect_. I at least had no fault to find with it. The
services were read at the chancel rail. The canticles were
chanted with the organ accompaniment. It was at once solemn and
very beautiful. I said I had no fault to find. Perhaps that is
too much. I do think there is an absence of warmth in the
colors of the church, and of a certain grace and brightness
about the chancel, which would be entirely obviated by
substituting, instead of the present altar, a white or colored
marble one of the same size, adorned with candlesticks and
covered with a lace cloth. This, however, is to make it a
_perfect_ church for my eye, and I am not at all sure that
I am right.

{79}

"I said Troy was the most agreeable place I had visited. You
will not need to be told what it was which gave it this
interest: the Church of the Holy Cross. Oh, how glorious that
enterprise is! How perfectly devotional and elevating those
services! I was made very, very happy by this visit. It seemed
unearthly, and it seemed, too, a promise of better and holier
days, a harbinger of returning glory to our depressed Church.
Could you not introduce this service into the college. It is
worth a very great effort. Nothing else can produce such an
effect as the choral service. With the material you have, I
should not think it would be impossible, and at nothing short
of this ought you to stop. I formed a valuable acquaintance
with, and had the pleasure of visiting all the clergy of the
place, who are remarkably united, and who received me with
Southern warmth and cordiality. I was at the Church of the Holy
Cross as often as it was possible for me to be there, you may
be sure, and left it at the last with real regret. I consider
this visit alone fully repaid me for the journey."

* * * * *

From this time there is not a trace of disquietude with his position to be observed in his correspondence, until 1849. Under date of February, 1847, he writes to his friend, who, as it appears from his own declarations, was the only intimate friend he had among his brother clergymen:

"I still write now and then to H., but there is such a
restriction on the freedom of thought and expression in
speaking to him, that I have but very little interest in the
correspondence; indeed I think it hardly likely long to
continue; but from you there is no need or wish on my part to
conceal any thing.

* * * * *

I _long_ to leave St. Paul's. I do not say this to anyone
here, for nothing is gained of talking; but to you I say that I
am obliged constantly to fall back on the reflection that,
until some other way is opened, my duty lies here. It is not on
account of any disagreeables in my position; but there are
peculiar dangers and difficulties attending it, and I cannot
help fearing constantly that my life is too easy and too soft
to please God.
{80}
Still I see not which way to move. I think I wish to submit
myself entirely to the Divine Will. I hope it will not seem
impertinent, dear Dwight, to express a hope that this coming
Lent may be a season of strict discipline to us both. Oh, I
need it! I cannot tell you how the sense of responsibility
concerning the souls of others sometimes alarms me. I can say
this to you, without hypocrisy, I trust. I need to be purged by
penance very, very much, to be drawn away from pride and
vain-glory, and slothfulness and self-will; these are my
besetting sins; and to be stirred up to diligent study, to
obedience, to humility, to labor, and to prayer. I pray that I
may have the grace to fulfil the work which God has put in my
heart to undertake this Lent, that He would draw me away from
all things else, entirely to be united to Him. It would be a
most pleasant thought that we were thus entering on this
penitential season together."

The following extract from a letter of June 23, 1848, shows the interest which the writer still felt in Mr. Newman:--

"Is it not encouraging to see the stir that has been raised in
England about Dr. Hampden's nomination? The secular papers all
call the opposition a 'Tractarian Movement.' If they mean by
this that none but Tractarians are engaged in it, it is
palpably false; but in another sense it is certainly true. I
see clearly in the whole matter the fruits of that movement,
the greater earnestness and zeal for orthodoxy, _as such_,
so different from what would have been exhibited a quarter of a
century ago. And whom are we to thank for fixing the brand of
heterodoxy upon this man; so that he cannot pass off his
sophisms upon an unwary Church, but the great master to worn we
once looked up, to whom God gave so clear a vision of the truth
and so great a zeal to uphold it? This is the fruit of a seed
sown by a hand now raised up against us, one of the many gifts
by which we keep him and his great faculties in remembrance,
though, alas! 'we now see him no more.'"

{81}