Though I name "three Newmans," this chapter relates chiefly to the one I best knew, Francis William, known as Professor Newman. The eldest5 of the three was John Henry, the famous Cardinal. The third brother, Charles, was a propagandist of insurgent6 opinion. Francis was a pure Theist, John was a Roman Catholic, and Charles a Naturist, and nothing besides; he would be classed as an Agnostic now. Francis William was the handsomest He had classical features, a placid7, clear, and confident voice, and an impressive smile which lighted up all his face. John Henry manifested in his youth the dominancy of the ecclesiastic8, and lived in a priestly world of his own creation, in which this life was overshadowed by the terrors of another unknown. Francis believed in one sole God—not the head of a firm. His Theism was of such intense, unquestioning devotion, of such passionate9 confidence, as was seen in Mazzini and Theodore Parker, of America. Voltaire and Thomas Paine were not more determined10 Theists. In all else, Francis was human. Charles believed in Nature and nothing more. In sending me papers to print in the Reasoner on "Causation in the Universe," he would at times say, "My mind is leaving me, and when it returns a few months hence, I will send you a further paper." Like Charles Lamb's poor sister, Mary, who used to put her strait waistcoat in her basket and go herself to the asylum12, when she knew the days of her aberration13 were approaching, Charles Newman had premonition of a like kind. He had the thoroughness of thought of his family. The two brothers—the Cardinal and the Professor—united to supply Charles with an income sufficient for his needs. The Cardinal, though he knew Charles' opinions, readily joined.
When some questioning remark on Professor Newman was made incidentally in the House of Commons, in consequence of his uncompromising views, the Cardinal wrote saying that "for his brother's purity he would die," which, considering their extreme divergence14 of opinion, was very noble in the Cardinal.
Professor Newman, I believe, wrote more books, having regard to their variety and quality, than any other scholar of his time. Science, history, poetry, theology, political economy, mathematics, travel, translations—the Iliad of Homer—among them a Sanscrit dictionary. He wrote many pamphlets and spoke15 for the humblest societies, regardless of the amazement16 of his eminent17 contemporaries and associates. On questions relating to marital18 morality, he did not hesitate to publish leaflets. I published a series of letters for him in the Reasoner—now some fifty years ago, so we were long acquainted. These earlier communications came to me at a time when the authorities of University College in London, where he was Professor of Latin, were being called upon to consider whether his intellectual Liberalism might deter11 parents from sending their sons there. But it was bravely held that the University had no cognisance of the personal opinions of any professor. Like Professor Key, Mr. Newman took an open interest in public affairs. Though variedly19 learned, Professor Newman's style of speech, to whomever addressed by tongue or pen, was fresh, direct, precise, and lucid21.
Mr. Newman's quarto volume on Theism, written in metre, is the greatest compendium22 of Theistical argument published in my time, and until Darwin wrote, no entirely23 conclusive24 answer was possible.
Francis Newman had a travelling mind. From the time when I published his "Personal Narrative25" of his early missionary26 experience at Aleppo, he grew, year by year, more rationalistic in his religious judgment27. In one of his papers, written in the year of his death, he said: "It may be asked, 'Is Mr. Newman a disciple28 of Jesus?' I answer, 'Of all nations that I know, that have a religion established by law, I have never seen the equal to what is attributed to Jesus himself. But much is attributed to Him—I disapprove29 of.' On the whole, if I am asked, 'Do you call yourself a Christian30?' I say, in contrast to other religions, 'Yes! I do,' and so far I must call myself a Christian. But if you put upon me the words Disciple of Jesus, meaning the believing all Jesus teaches to be light and truth I cannot say it, and I think His words variously unprovable. Now all disciples31, when they come to full age, ought to seek to surpass their masters. Therefore, if Jesus had faults, we, after more than two thousand years' experience, ought to expect to surpass Him, especially when an immense routine of science has been elaborately built up, with a thousand confirmations32 all beyond the thought of Jesus."
What a progressive order of thought would exist now in the Christian world had Mr. Newman's conception of discipleship33 prevailed in the Churches!
Mr. Newman's words about myself, occurring in his work on "The Soul," I remember with pride. They were written at a time when I had an ominous34 reputation among theologians. When residing at Clifton as a professor, Mr. Newman came down to Broadmead Rooms at Bristol, and took the chair at one of my lectures, and spoke words on my behalf which only he could frame. But he was as fearless in his friendship as he was intrepid35 in his faith. He wrote to me, April 30, 1897, saying: "I appeal to your compassion36 when I say, that the mere37 change of opinion on a doubtful fact has perhaps cost me the regard of all who do not know me intimately." The "fact" related to the probability of annihilation at death. He regretted the loss of friendship, but never varied20 in his lofty fidelity38 to conscience. Whatever might be his interest in a future life, if it were the will of God not to concede it, he held it to be the duty of one who placed his trust in Him to acquiesce39. The spirit of piety40 never seemed to me nobler, than in this unusual expression of unmurmuring, unpresuming resignation.
His first wife, who was of the persuasion41 of the Plymouth Brethren, had little sympathy with his boldness and fecundity42 of thought. Once, when he lived at Park Village, Regent's Park, his friend, Dr. James Martineau, came into the room; she opened the window and stepped out on to the lawn, rather than meet him. Mr. Newman was very tender as to her scruples44, but stood by his own. When I visited him, he asked me, from regard to her, to give the name of "Mr. Jacobs"—the name I used when a teacher in Worcester in 1840, where I lectured under my own name and taught under another.
On February 12, 1897, Mr. Newman wrote:—"Mv dear Holyoake,—I am not coming round to you, though many will think I am. On the contrary, I hope you are half coming round to me, but I have no time to talk on these matters." He then asked my advice as to his rights over his own publications, then in the hands of Mr. Frowde, printer, of Oxford; but with such care for the rights of others, such faultless circumspection45 as to the consequences to others in all he wished done, as to cause me agreeable surprise at the unfailing perspicacity46 of his mind, his unchanging, scrupulous47, and instinctive48 sense of justice.
He regarded death with the calmness of a philosopher. He wrote to me April 30, 1897: "Only those near me know how I daily realise the near approach of my own death (he was then ninety-three). I grudge49 every day wasted by things unfinished which remain for me to do." No apprehension50, no fear, and he wished I could "appear before him, with a document drawn51 up," by which he could consign52 to me the custody53 of all the works under his control. At the time, as he said, he might "easily be in his grave" before I could accomplish his wishes. He says in another letter that his "wife, like himself, abhorred54 indebtedness." He provided for the probable cost of everything he wished done. His sense of honour remained as keen as his sense of faith. He was a gentleman first and a Christian afterwards.
Mr. Gladstone told me he was under the impression that he had, in some way unknown to himself, lost the friendship of Mr. Newman, from whom he had not heard for several years; and Mr. Newman was under an impression that Mr. Gladstone's silence was occasioned by disapproval55 of his published views of the "Errors of Jesus"—an error of assumption respecting Mr. Gladstone into which Mr. Newman might naturally, but not excusably, fall; for Mr. Newman should have known that Mr. Gladstone had a noble tolerance56 equal to his own, or should personally have tested it, by letter or otherwise, before nurturing57 an adverse58 conjecture59. I mentioned the matter to Mr. Gladstone, and found Mr. Newman's surmise60 groundless. At the same time I gave him a copy of Mr. Francis Newman's "Secret Songs" (as one copy given to me was called) which revealed to Mr. Gladstone a devotional spirit he did not, as he said, imagine could co-exist in one whose faith was so divergent to his own.
The following letter, which has autobiographical value, may interest the reader:—
"Weston-super-Mare.
"March 22, 1893.
"Dear Mr. George Jacob Holyoake,—I had no idea of writing to Mr. Gladstone, yet am glad to hear that you gave him my 'Secret Hymns61.' Probably my contrast to my brother, the late Cardinal, always puzzled him. That we were in painful opposition62 ever since 1820 had never entered his mind, much less that this opposition made it impossible to me to endure living in Oxford, which also would have been my obvious course.
"I did send my 'Paul of Tarsus' to Mr. Gladstone, which partially63 opened his eyes. For my brother's first pretentious64 religious book was against the Arians, which I think I read at latest in 1832. Mr. Gladstone has written that my brother's secession to Rome was the greatest loss that the English Church ever suffered. Of what kind was the loss my little book on 'Paul' indirectly65 states, in pointing out that, as our English New Testament66 shows, Paul in his own episode plainly originated the doctrine67, three centuries later called Arianism, and held by all the Western Church until young Athanasius introduced his new and therefore 'false' doctrine.
My brother, with Paul's epistle open before him, condemned68 the doctrine of Arian, and did not know that it was the invention of Paul, and thereby69 prevailed in the whole Western Church. Moreover, I read what I cannot imagine met Mr. Gladstone's eyes, that 'It is not safe to quote any Pre-Athanasian doctrines70 concerning the Trinity, since the Church had not yet taught them how to express themselves.' After this, could Mr. Gladstone, as a decent scholar, mourn over my brother's loss to the Church? I hope Mr. Gladstone can now afford time to read something of the really early Christianity. He will find the Jerusalem Christianity perishing after the Roman revolt, and supplanted71 by Pauline fancies (not Christian at all) and by Pauline morality, often better than Christian. To me our modern problem is to eschew72 Pauline fancies and further to improve on Pauline wisdom.
"But since I have reached the point of being unable to take Human Immortality73 as a Church axiom, I cannot believe that the problem is above fully74 stated, or that Christianity deserves to become coetaneous with man's body.
"Perhaps I ought to thank you more, yet I may have said too much.—Yours truly,
"F. W. Newman."
One day as Mr. Newman was leaving my room in Woburn Buildings, he looked round and said: "I did not think there were rooms so large in this place"; and then descending75 the stairs, as though the familiarity of the remark was more than an impulse, he said: "Do you think you could join with me in teaching the great truth of Theism?" Alas76! I had to express my regret that my belief did not lie that way. Highly as I should think, and much as I should value public association with Mr. Newman, I had to decline the opportunity. If the will could create conviction, I should also have accepted Mazzini's invitation—elsewhere referred to—for Theism never seemed so enchanting77 in my eyes as it appeared in the lives of those two distinguished78 thinkers who were inspired by it.
点击收听单词发音
1 cardinal | |
n.(天主教的)红衣主教;adj.首要的,基本的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 attainments | |
成就,造诣; 获得( attainment的名词复数 ); 达到; 造诣; 成就 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 retirement | |
n.退休,退职 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 eldest | |
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 insurgent | |
adj.叛乱的,起事的;n.叛乱分子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 placid | |
adj.安静的,平和的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 ecclesiastic | |
n.教士,基督教会;adj.神职者的,牧师的,教会的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 deter | |
vt.阻止,使不敢,吓住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 asylum | |
n.避难所,庇护所,避难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 aberration | |
n.离开正路,脱离常规,色差 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 divergence | |
n.分歧,岔开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 marital | |
adj.婚姻的,夫妻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 variedly | |
各种各样地,改变地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 lucid | |
adj.明白易懂的,清晰的,头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 compendium | |
n.简要,概略 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 conclusive | |
adj.最后的,结论的;确凿的,消除怀疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 missionary | |
adj.教会的,传教(士)的;n.传教士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 disciple | |
n.信徒,门徒,追随者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 disapprove | |
v.不赞成,不同意,不批准 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 disciples | |
n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 );门徒;耶稣的信徒;(尤指)耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 confirmations | |
证实( confirmation的名词复数 ); 证据; 确认; (基督教中的)坚信礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 discipleship | |
n.做弟子的身份(期间) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 intrepid | |
adj.无畏的,刚毅的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 fidelity | |
n.忠诚,忠实;精确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 acquiesce | |
vi.默许,顺从,同意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 piety | |
n.虔诚,虔敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 fecundity | |
n.生产力;丰富 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 villa | |
n.别墅,城郊小屋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 scruples | |
n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 );顾虑,顾忌v.感到于心不安,有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 circumspection | |
n.细心,慎重 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 perspicacity | |
n. 敏锐, 聪明, 洞察力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 scrupulous | |
adj.审慎的,小心翼翼的,完全的,纯粹的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 grudge | |
n.不满,怨恨,妒嫉;vt.勉强给,不情愿做 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 consign | |
vt.寄售(货品),托运,交托,委托 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 custody | |
n.监护,照看,羁押,拘留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 abhorred | |
v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 );(厌恶地)回避;拒绝;淘汰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 disapproval | |
n.反对,不赞成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 tolerance | |
n.宽容;容忍,忍受;耐药力;公差 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 nurturing | |
养育( nurture的现在分词 ); 培育; 滋长; 助长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 adverse | |
adj.不利的;有害的;敌对的,不友好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 conjecture | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 surmise | |
v./n.猜想,推测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 hymns | |
n.赞美诗,圣歌,颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 partially | |
adv.部分地,从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 pretentious | |
adj.自命不凡的,自负的,炫耀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 indirectly | |
adv.间接地,不直接了当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 testament | |
n.遗嘱;证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 doctrines | |
n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 );教义;学说;(政府政策的)正式声明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 supplanted | |
把…排挤掉,取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 eschew | |
v.避开,戒绝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 immortality | |
n.不死,不朽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 enchanting | |
a.讨人喜欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |