Henry and Antonio, or The proselytes of the Romish and evangelical churches

Front matter

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Contents

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CHAPTER I. Henry and his education, - - - 13 CuarrTer Il. His residence at Rome, and conversion to the Romish Church, = - - - - - - - 18 CHArrer Ill. His journey towards home—Antonio—God and the heretics—The true christian, - - ~ 24 Charter IV. Henry’s arrival at home—The privilege of changing our faith, - - - - - = 3 35 CHaPrer V. Going to church—The Latin Liturgy, - 43 Cuapter VI. The relation of the Romish church to the design of christianity—The relation of the propitiatory sacraments to christian virtue—Priestly absolution, John xx. 23; Matt. xviii. 18, - - - - - - - 49 Cuaptrer VII. Mixed marriage—The condemnation of heretics— W hat is demanded to obtain eternal life, - 62

Cuaprer VIII. Antonio—Matt. xix. 16—19—Influence of the Catholic sacraments in composing and comforting the mind, - - - - - - - - - 70 CHAPTER IX. The only true Catholic and apostolic church

Chapter I. Henry And His Education

Henry, the only son of a wealthy and respectable merchant in L in Saxony, had travelled to Italy to study in the schools of celebrated painters. His return to his pa- -ternal home was expected with the most intense anxiety by his parents, and his sister Wilhelmina, who had just then entered into a matrimonial engagement. But with this feeling of joy at seeing him who had now been absent three years, there was mingled an emotion of deep solicitude, yea, of melancholy foreboding, which diminished in the father’s heart at least, all the pleasure of the anticipated meeting. ©

Henry had become a Papist in Rome, and had communicated ıt to his parents only a short time before his arrival. This inconsiderate step deeply pained the strictly evangelical father, who firmly convinced of the superior advantages of his own church, regarded the Romish communion in a very unfavorable light. He was mortified that his only son had attached himself to a church, which in his view, was totally unsupported by the bible.

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The family had as yet kept the apostacy of the son a se- © cret; but it was very often the unpleasant subject of their private conversation. Henry had informed them that he had become a Romanist from conviction; he had earnestly entreated them not to consider him as one of those unworthy proselytes, who change their faith as they do their garments, for the sake of a benefice, or a pension, or an advantageous marriage; but all this did not mitigate the grief of the father, who painfully felt, that now a great partition wall separated him from the affections of his son. ‘‘How can Henry—he said in deep mortification—have any confidence in us now; how can he any longer respect us, when according to the principles of his church he must look upon us as heretics, as children of the devil, and devoted to eternal destruction? For my part, I know not -how I could trust or esteem those, of whom I believed that they were full of soul destroying errors, that they were wholly under the influence of satan, and that they were devoted by God to everlasting damnation !—and he vehemently added—“‘if he has professed the Jesuitical faith and cursed fatherand mother and teacher, because they educated him in heresy—O, then I never wish to see my child again !”’

“That, replied the mother with earnestness, that Henry has certainly not done. I know my son too well! What? to curse the mother who bare and nourished him—that would be too awful!—that my son has not done! He has assuredly not forgotten that passage of scripture, (Prov. xx. 20.) ‘Whoso curseth his father or his mother, his lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness.’ ”’ ä

“Lcan myself scarcely believe any. une so bad of him,’ said the father.

“And-J, said.Wilhelmina—cannot believe that the Romish church demands any thing so unchristian of her proselytes.’’

“We should really think so, added the father—But a ehurch which condemns and curses us all without distinctian as heretics, acts at least consistently, when she demands of her proselytes, not to exempt their friends and relatives from this malediction. Certain it is, that the Jesuits at least, have required such malediction of the ‚proselytes which they have made, as was a short time ago proved by the publication of such confessions, and an examination of their genuineness.* But that other Romish priests of a better character than the Jesuits, do the same, or that it is a general rule, I do not believe. But yet every Romish confes- ‚sion of faith which the proselytes must adopt, may contain something by which they must declare themselves free from the spiritual supervision and communion of their parents. At least the confession which Charles B—-— adopted in Vienna in 1812, when he became a convert to the Romish faith, contained these express words: ‘‘] swear never to fall back again into the errors which I have abjured, and never. to afford any aid, counsel, favor or relief to any who hold these errors.” How could Henry, if he had also taken this‘ ‚oath, feel any esteem for his heretical parents, or afford them ‚aid, favor or relief?—alas!~—I have lost my son—lost him forever.” 2

rhe principal work on this subjeet is, Authentic history of the so | called profession Fidei Tridentinae, and several other Roman Catholic confessions of faith, by G. C.F. Mohnike, Greifswalde, 1822, Germany. In the confession of faith which was adopted in Hungary by proselytes to the Romish church, and which originated among the Jesuits, it is said towards the end—“‘We confess that the Romish doctrine is the catholic, pure, divine, saving, old and true doctrine, but the Protestant is false, erroneous, blasphemous, accursed, heretical, damning, seditious, ungodly, &e.—Hence we curse (maledictos pronuntiamus) our parents, who educated us in the heretical faith ; we curse also those, who raised in our minds any doubts of the Roman Catholic faith. We curse the books which we have read, and which contain those heretical and blasphemous doctrines. We curse also all the works we read, whilst we lived in the heretical faith, that we may not be answerable for them before God at.the last day. We moreover swear, as. long as a drop of blood runs in our veins, to pursue that accursed protestant faith, in every way, secretly and openly, with force and fraud, (clam et aperte, violenter el frauduienter) with word and deed, yea, even with the sworp.’”’ See Mohnike, p. 91.

The tears of the mother, which now began to flow, and with which Wilhelmina mingled hers, interrupted the con- ‘versation, and were, as usual, the beginning of a long, but _ melancholy silence, during which nothing was heard but the sighs of the mother, and the footsteps of the deeply excited father, who, under great agitation hastily traversed the room. “How was it possible, he thought to himself, that Henry as a well instructed Protestant christian, could suffer himself to be blinded by such fallacies! What poison must they not have secretly administered to him!—By what religious: legerdemain must they not have deceived him!”

What appeared inexplicable to the father, is very easily solved. Henry was instructed in his boyhood by an orthodox Lutheran minister. He was soon able to recite the whole catechism by heart, and his father believed him to be well grounded in the orthodox system of faith. But in his instruttions on christian duties, the teacher did not go beyond the ten commandments. Ofthe discourses of Christ and+ his doctrines as taught by the apostles, Henry. knew little more thanshe had learned from the passages quoted in his cate-. chism. He received no instruction in the history of the christian church, and excepting a very few points, he did not know the difference between the Evangelical and Romish confessions of faith. His instructor very inconsiderately taught him to believe that the duty of love which we owe to the persons of heretics extended even to their errors, and maintained that it was very intolerant to give ourselves any trouble about the differences between the Pro- : - testants and Romanists; and that the Romanist could be as | good a christian as the Lutheran. Henry’s obligations to his own church were altogether overlooked in his instruction, and he was sent into the world liable to be carried away with every wind of doctrine. He was now senttoahigh school, whefe religious instruction was indeed given, but where he had no opportunity of supplying the deficiencies of his juvenile education. The rector, who had the charge of the higher classes, believed that he had performed his duty, when he merely read the New Testament with his scholars, and as he was teacher of languages, all his explanations had ‚reference exclusively to grammar and idiom.

He was so extensive in his illustrations, that during the four years: in which Henry attended his class, the learned professor had only proceeded as far as the ninth chapter of Matthew. Of the peculiarities of christianity and of the Evangelical church, Henry heard nothing. He was thence sent to the university. It was celebrated and popular, and every thing could be learned except—religion. Henry heard lectures on philosophy. The professor was a celebrated man and orthodox besides, and hence he was favored with the chair of philoso- _ phy by the pious trustees of the University. He belonged to the school of Schelling. The result of the whole was that Henry became a sort of philosophical christian; he would sometimes also settle down in religious melancholy—his mind was harrassed by apprehensions and doubts, and he was far from being contented; and yet strangely inconsistent as he was, he entertained some fanatical notions, and abandoned those studies which had a tendency to excite pleasurable emotions, because he thought that would render him unfit to receive the grace of God, and disqualify him for eterna! life. In this unhappy state of mind, he determined at the end of his academical years, to bid adieu to his studies and devote himself exclusively to painting, which he had hitherto pursued merely asan amusement. His father did not object, and thus in the twenty-fifth year of his age, Henry travelled to Italy to vera the great masters of his art.

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CHAPTER I.

HIS RESIDENCE AT ROME AND CONVERSION TO THE ROMISH CHURCH,

A new world now opened to his view, of which before he had only known the name; the Roman Catholic world. He heard masses and high offices, he saw episcopal consecrations, pilgrimages, pictures imparting grace, bishops in princely vestments, cardinals, and the pope, as he dispensed his blessing to the kneeling multitude; he was much astonished at all this; but he understood nothing of it, because he had never heard an explanation of these solemnities, and what religious representations they were intended to set forth. His ,curiosity to discover this, often led him to the Romish chapels. The multitude of the faithful which were often assembled there, their silent prayers, their devout appearance affected his mind, and he often felt himself edified by the sight. Not to appear singular, he followed their example; he kneeled and kissed the eross, and was soon so well acquainted with the ceremonies that he was no longer distinguished from the Romanists. The art, to which he had devoted himself, he here found in the closest connexion with the external practice of religion. All the churches were adorned with splendid paintings, but the principal always was a representation of the “mother of God,”’ in which the artist exerted his highest skill to set forth a perfect picture of chaste loveliness.

All this was, however, as yet not detrimental to his faith, about which to his astonishment he had scarcely been asked. But it did not long continueso. As that which related to the history of the saints and legends in the pictures which he viewed and copied, was not yet understood by him, he found it necessary to ask for explanations, which were very obligingly and zealously given to him. He thus received the first accurate information of the historical traditions of the

Romish church, and of their connexion with her doctrines, ceremonies and organization. Incredible and curious as much of what they said in illustration of their pictures and other works of art appeared to him, and though much, especially in the legends of the saints, was offensive to his inexperienced mind, yet he began gradually to regard these things with a less unfavorable eye. The confident assurance with which they related to him the most incredible stories, and often repeated and spoke of them as things ‘which no man doubted, did not fail to produce upon Henry the usual impression. Belief is contagious, like unbelief. When men constantly hear the same thing, and hear it uttered in full confidence, they become inclined to regard it as true and to mistrust their own judgment.

Henry as an artist of taste, was a creature of imagination | and feeling, and he often permitted his fancy to sway his judgment. He yielded to delusions of this kind when his reason secretly reproved his decision. He gradually became better prepared to receive the most wonderful stories as true, for they operated upon a set of feelings which were developing themselves more strongly every day. He began to invest religion with a sort of poetic dress, and to regard it as a matter not of pious practice, but of use for the imagination. He indulged that disposition, for it created emotions of a pleasurable kind; and this, more than any thing ‚else, prepared him for the step he was about to take.

His melancholy and religious 'sentimentalism did not abandon him in Italy, but they were rather nourished by his studies. The contests and self-mortifications and temptations of the saints which he copied, operated powerfully on his easily excited feelings. He wished to be a saint, to live in a cell, to practice the deepest self-denial, to be attacked by the great enemy of mankind,—to repel his assaults,—to be distinguished for piety, and then his name would blazon in the ealendar, and his person and deeds be recorded on canvass for some future artist to study and copy. He ardently longed for some one to converse with on this subject,—some sentimentalist like himself who would encourage him in his determination, and flatter him into its vigorous prosecution. Full of tender sensibility, and what he mistook for genuine religious ardor, he was in a proper frame of mind to be captivated by pompous religious display, to be dazzled by gorgeous ceremonials, and to be deluded into the belief that profound awe in a magnificent temple was religion, and the performance of a splendid church service, to which music, and painting, and statuary lent their charms, was piety. |

He did not wait long. He was acquainted with a priest who had been ın Saxony. They soon became friends, for Rossi (that was his name,) could speak to him of his beloved native land. Rossi had explained to him many of the legends, which the pictures illustrated, and ıt was perfectly natural that the Romish priest should hold forth the legends of the saints and martyrs as genuine history. Henry could not reasonably take offence. Rossi had not yet even mentioned the Protestant faith, yea, he even pretended not to know that Henry was a Protestant;—Only gradually ° and very cautiously did he mingle religion with his conversation, and in several expressions, which appeared quite incidental, he set forth the most advantageous side of Romanism. Henry in the beginning contradicted nothing, because he did not wish to wound the feelings of his friend; but gradually this fear vanished, and Henry made objections, which were very few indeed, for he had never been instructed in the differences between the confessions. This contradiction Rossi was wating for, for now he had an oppor. . tunity without appearing urgent, of making his inexperienced friend intimately acquainted with all the peculiarities of Romanism, and of exhibiting all the grounds, which would most powerfully affect the unfurnished mind of Henry. The seed did not remain without fruit. Henry felt more and more that his wisdom would not hold out against the profound arguments of his friend. He gave up one point after another, and it proceeded so far, that the thought

OR THE PROSELYTES. "a oe really occurred to him, that in Rome he had first found the true church. The priest soon saw through the undissembling youth, and now first uttered a few words about a change of ecclesiastical confession, to which the late conversion of a Protestant artist in Rome, who wished to gain the patron- . age of a cardinal, gave the unsolicited occasion. It was not hard to convince Henry that a change of confession was a conscientious duty, if we have heretofore lived in gross error, and this was the basis on which Rossi continued diligently to build. He now ventured to express his serious apprehensions for his friend, because he was not in connexion with the true church,—to let him see the ecstacy which the remotest thought of Henry’s return to the true church,

would create within him,—and finally to express this thought as the most earnest desire of his heart.

Unable as Henry was to withstand the arguments of his friend in their conversations on the advantages of the Ro- _ mish church, still a certain something,—a secret feeling of

the great importance of the step, which Rossi urged him to

take, restrained him. But this gradually vanished, as he reflected on the subject. He at length told his friend how for a long time he had been harrassed by doubts about his salvation, and his perplexed state of mind generally.. Rossi, far from removing these doubts, only magnified them by saying, “it is true, we cannot expect that our faith should be always equally strong, and it is a very uncertain thing, for the human mind is not every day the same, and a doubt which a man with the best disposition cannot avoid, may. destroy all our confidence, and consequently the saving power of faith, but we Catholics,—he added as though incidently—cannot be disturbed by such doubts,—in the midst of the most perplexing doubts we are yet perfectly certain of our salvation.’’ He did not explain how that could be until the next day, when no himself asked for an explanation.

“The Catholic, said Resse has every ae good that belongs to the christian religion which Protestants have; for

22 . HENRY AND Sa they first received it from us, and koche it with ein. into their church. We have, as you, the Holy Scriptures, and honor them as the original fountain of all christian knowledge, and it is the Catholic church upon whose testimony, — you regard the Holy Scriptures, especially the New Testament, as authentic. You have the Apostolical, the Nicene, | and Athanasian creeds; we also, and you have them from | us. You have baptism and the Lord’s Supper; we also. You teach the mystery of the Trinity, the incarnation of the Son of God; you believe in original sin, and in the condemnation of all men on account of sin, and in their deliverance from this condemnation by the sufficient sacrifice of the God-man; and all this we also believe. Then, what “you have, we have also; but we have more than you, and hence you are not certain of your salvation, because you~ have rejected it. The Catholic church, as a benevolent ‘mother of the faithful, and aware of the infirmity of men, has not made the operation of propitiatory exercises dependant on the faith of the laity, (which as you yourself com- " plain, is so uncertain,) but on the power of the priest and the nature of the propitiation itself, which promotes salvation ex opere operato, as we are accustomed to say, that is; that the operation will be experienced and all the saving benefits will result from it, whether the christian accompas | “nies it with right faith or not. Hence the Catholic need not trouble himself about the question, whether he has enough of faith, or the right faith in order to obtain justification before God. It is sufficient that the priest absolves him,—that he offers the sacrifice of the mass for him. Upon the same ground the Catholic church has not connected reconciliation with God with the internal act of faith, but with external actions which, when they are only properly performed, assure the poor sinner of his justification. You Protestants have only the Lord’s Supper, which you celebrate three or four times a year; we have the daily sacrifice of the mass for all sins, the confession and absolution, indulgencies, and a whole series of good works, as fasting, the Angelic Salutation, Aves Maria, Pilgrimages, Sacred Places connected with indulgencies, and the like. Hence, the Catholic christian lives in happy contentment and security about his eternal salvation. Whatever scruples he may have, whatever sins he may commit, if he only avails himself of the confessional, of the mass and indulgence, all that will not endanger his salvation. The human heart is weak, and wavering in faith and virtue; hence it is necessary for man to ground his salvation on something more firm and unchangeable than internal faith, and to have some- ° thing which will aid him in his weakness. For this weakness the Protestants have no remedy, but we have.”

In this way Rossi sought to convince his friend that he would be avery happy and contented man, if he would avail himself of the numerous propitiatory means which the Catholic church affords the christian. After this idea had taken root in Henry’s mind, Rossi proceeded further, and began to show to his friend, that in the Protestant church there is nothing but confusion, uncertainty, infidelity and error; that it is not a true church, that it has no valid priesthood, and no effectual sacraments. It was easy to convince the stranger of this, after he had once begun to believe the contrary, namely, the exclusive truth of the Catholic church. It was only the result of his defective religious education, for as was before observed, he had never been instructed in the differences between the two churches, and of course, had not been furnished with arguments against the errors of Rome. He could not withstand the wily Rossi, who taking advantage of his ignorance, easily infused into his mind these pernicious tenets.

Finally convinced, that the Romish church was the only true one, and which alone by the efficacy of her sacrifices could assure him of justification before God, six months before his return to Saxony, he went over to that communion and uttered his renunciation of Protestantism in the presence of Rossi.

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Chapter III

HIS JOURNEY HOMEWARDS—ANTONIO—GOD AND THE HERETICS— THE TRUE CHRISTIAN.

He communicated this immediately, with all the ardor of a new convert to his father, and said that he would assuredly justify the measure, when he had heard his son state the reasons of his conversion. He would have acted more considerately however, if before taking so important a step, he had consulted his father or some other intelligent friend. But Rossi earnestly advised him not to do it, and said that it would only excite the opposition of his parents, and that his conversion to the true and only saving church, would only thereby be rendered more difficult. Henry suffered himself to be persuaded. He did as many apostates do; he solicited no counsel from a sensible man. He had such great confidence in his own judgment, that he thought he stood in no need of the advice of others. Rossi had explained the grounds so clearly, that he felt confident he. could defend them against any opponent, and he even indulged the secret hope, of converting his parents also to the true and infallible church. |

He flattered himself with this confident expectation’ the more, because his father did not express any disapprobation in his answer. He insisted however, upon his immediate return, which Rossi earnestly tried to prevent, and even said, that disobedience to parents when sdlvation is concerned, is a meritorious act. But Henry determined to obey his father’s command. Respecting his conversion, his father only said a few words to this amount, that they would speak of that when he should arrive at home, and that he hoped, Henry had not become a Romanist from impure motives. As he was not conscious of that, he commenced his journey homewards full of confidence and joy.

His mind continued to be elated as long as he breathed the air of Italy. But when from the summit of the Alps he for the first time again beheld the German sky, it appeared as though his spirits began to droop, and this actually was the case more and more, the nearer he approached his native land. Displeased at himself, that his heart now began to fail, especially as he could find no cause of uneasiness in his understanding, for he was not conscious of having done wrong, he again went over the whole ground of argument, by which Rossi had persuaded him to become a Romanist, and thereby sought to gain the necessary confidence of conviction, by which he might suppress that wonderful emotion of heart which harassed and humbled him. This contributed somewhat to his relief, but not enough. His heart began to beat again with unusual violence the nearer he approached home, and he at length found the most effectual source of contentment in the confidence, that he was so dearly loved by his parents, that even if he failed in convincing them of the propriety and sincerity of his conversion, yet that they would kindly extend their indulgence to him. But to be better prepared to meet the objections, which he expected would be made, he tarried a week in Frankfort on the Mayne, and employed this season of rest, in writing down the reasons of his conversion, which were only so many accusations against the evangelical faith, that he might study them in their connection, and impress them more deeply on his mind.

The arrival of the son was anticipated by the family at home with no very pleasant sensations. True, they were not precisely ashamed of his rash and precipitate act, but they experienced a certain feeling of mistrust against the proselyte, and a painful uncertainty whether the internal man had not also changed with his confession of faith, and whether he could now sustain to them the old familiar relation in which they all formerly rejoiced.

Whilst Henry was employed in his preparation for the theological contest he expected to have with his father, 3 ;

another opponent rose immediately by his side, a circumstance which he did not at allanticipate. Shortly before he left Rome, he took into his service a young man, whose handsome personal appearance, sound understanding and honesty of character highiy recommended him to his new master. Antonio,—that was his name,—was by birth a Neapolitan, and was as an orphan brought upin a monastery. As he was anxious to learn and industrious, he gained considerable information for one in his circumstances, which together with his beautiful person, procured for him a station in the retinue of a German baron, with whom he performed many journeys, and finally came to Rome. Here Henry saw him, and after the death of Antonio’s master took him into his service, with the determination of taking him to Germany, for he was pretty well acquainted with the language of that country. Henry soon became much pleased with him, and it afforded him gratification to give further instruction to the young man, as far as circumstances would admit. He permitted him to take books out of his own library, and Antonio always selected German books, that he might improve himself in the language. Henry cheerfully assisted him in acquiring the language, and he was soon able to understand a German book with facility. He was particularly fond of historical and geographical works, the contents of which he soon mastered, for he had a most retentive memory. Henry did not precisely know what he should do with him in Germany. He hoped however, to procure some profitable employment for him ; especially as Antonio had several very flattering recommendations to Romish priests.

With respect to religion, Antonio knew no more than his teachers, the padres in Naples, had taught him. As for himself, he had read the Romish catechism, and an Italian translation of the decrees of the Council of Trent, and thus for a layman, was a learned Romanist. His teachers had done every thing in their way to make him a good Catholic. He believed that no man could be a christian, who did not hear mass, keep the fasts, pray the pater noster, receive the priest’s absolution, and humbly believe every thing which the church commanded him to believe. The padres had particularly excited within him such an utter abhorrence of all heretics, that he was agitated with fear whenever he met one in Rome. The clearest of all truths to him was, that God looks upon heretics with anger and abomination, that they are under the dominion of the devil, and that they are devoted with him to everlasting damnation. His fancy had pictured a wonderful representation of those heretical countries, where according to his expression, ‘‘faith ends, and the dominion of the devil begins.’’ Hence he was at first doubtful, whether he should accompany Henry to the heretical Saxony, and only finally determined when he heard that there were also Catholic churches and priests there, who were zealously engaged in the diffusion of the true faith. From many expressions of his master he even indulged the hope that there his fortune would soon be made.