[Letters and Correspondence—1835]

Mr. Froude in the following letter talks, in his vein, of the hold his friend was gaining over ardent and impressible spirits. Those who remember the early days of the Movement will recall similar examples of the effect of Mr. Newman's writings, on persons open to religious impressions.


July 2, 1835.
I have heard from my sisters and the Champernouns of the efficacy of your opuscula in leading captive silly women. One very curious instance I heard the other day of an exceedingly clever girl who for the last two or three years has been occasionally laid up with a very painful illness, and suffered severely. Nobody that she lives with can have acted as channels for infecting her, as they are all either common-place sensible people, or Evangelical, or lax. But she has got it into her head from your sermons, &c., that there is a new party springing up in the Church which she calls 'the new men,' and has been pumping my sisters about you, and whether your notions are spreading, &c. I have no notion how far she has distinct views, but they say she has been working the Dartmouth Evangelicals with your sermons, and made one of the parsons knock under. I have also heard of a learned lady (a very good and sensible person by-the-bye) poking away most industriously at your 'Arians,' and saying {100} that her views had been much cleared by it. Also another who has been much distressed at a report that the 'Lyra' is not going on ...

P.S.—As to the laity having power in Synods, I don't know enough to have an opinion.

In answer Mr. Newman writes:

July 1835.
What you say about our opuscula is very encouraging. I am astonished to see how they take. As to my sermons, Williams has lately been inquiring in London, and been told they are selling as well as they can sell, and when he pressed to know which volume most, they would not tell, only answer they both were, &c. I do verily believe a spirit is abroad at present, and we are but blind tools, not knowing whither we are going. I mean, a flame seems arising in so many places as to show no mortal incendiary is at work, though this man or that may have more influence in shaping the course or modifying the nature of the flame. I have, at present, some misgivings whether I have not been too bold in the June Magazine on the subject of Monachism. You saw it, and it is only my confidence in this unseen agitator which bears me up. I doubt whether I am not burdening my well-wishers with too heavy a load when I oblige them to take up and defend these opinions too.

You see the ground taken, as far as I am concerned, by our fautores in many quarters, is that of my not being a party man or peculiar in any sense. Now some one has told me that, in defending Monachism, I have become peculiar. I can but throw myself in answer upon the general Church, and avow (as I do) that if any one will show me any opinion of mine which the Primitive Church condemned, I will renounce it; any which it did not insist on, I will not insist on it. Yet, after all, I am anxious about it, and shall draw in my horns.


July 7, 1835.
They say the poor Duke is certainly for Lord Radnor's Bill [the Welsh Bishoprics], which is marvellous, considering its infringement of corporate rights. But perhaps the Corporation Reform Bill is to destroy that argument. His {101} friends here are very angry with him. It is said he has declared he will not present our petition, but leave it to the Archbishop. This I do not believe for an instant, but it shows how strong the opinion is of his opposition to us. Would you believe it, he wrote down to the heads to say the majority of residents was against the Act of May 20; and even now our Provost goes about declaring it, though the number who voted on that occasion (even if 57 were not too small in itself to be a majority) has been ascertained and found to be 30 for the change and 111 (I believe), and but for accidents 10 more, against it. There would have been no petition at all to Parliament against Lord Radnor but for the resolution of the M.A.'s, who signed a paper (about 70 signatures) to the Vice-Chancellor begging him to call the Heads together for the purpose of concocting one.

I have not yet spoken of your tract; your passages about the Reformers do not distress me at all. I am sure the more we can (conscientiously) praise them, the better; and if another finds himself able to do so more than I, I am desirous to avail myself of his ability. I shall put it (the tract) into Keble's hands.


July 14, 1835.
 … I have thought that it would perhaps be best for your and Pusey's tracts [on Baptism] to state your views positively and doctrinally this month, and any illustrations or subsidiary arguments might follow as occasion requires or objections are made. And I suppose your two tracts would probably be at some length, Pusey's especially, and therefore you would not want a third to swell your budget for August. And I should like to have seen your tracts; and writing here should feel rather writing in the dark, not knowing how far it aught agree with the line your arguments were taking.

[N.B.—Pusey's tract on Baptism, here referred to, was published, I think, on August 24, 1835. My projected tract on Baptism became in consequence sermons, namely those of vol. iii. 18, 19, 20.]

A clerical connexion of mine has been selling his copy of Bishop Beveridge's works, because his curate, who had borrowed them, had exalted his ideas of the Sacraments since he had taken to read Beveridge, being convinced that they {102} had been too low hitherto. And this was not to be! Mumpsimus was still to he Mumpsimus.


July 16, 1835.
My chapel (Littlemore) was begun yesterday, and the first stone is to be solemnly laid next week. It is to be roofed in by the end of October. The two builders ran against each other 663l. to 665l., the architect beforehand reckoning on 650l.; so I hope I have got it at about the right sum. This takes in everything of fitting up except the bell. The Society [Oriel College] gives us 150l [Note 1].

In answer to this letter, Mr. Froude writes an urgent invitation to join him at Torbay, giving all details of route, fares, &c. 'I am sure the lark will do you good; and the money (2l. 15s.) will not be grossly misspent.'


July 20, 1835.
I should like of all things to come and see you, but can say nothing to the proposal at present, being very busy here, and being in point of finances in a very unsatisfactory state. I am at present at Dionysius and the Abbé, whom, O that I could dispatch this vacation.

Acland has sent a fifth Cambridge man to me [Mr. Sterling]. I am somewhat anxious lest I have gone too far in confessing monastic doctrines.

Mr. Newman did not go to Torbay. His next and last visit to Froude was to Dartington, September 15. The following letter relates to a controversy going on between Mr. Newman and the Abbé Jager, just mentioned [see 'Chronological Notes,' July 25, 1835:—'My controversy {103} with the Abbé Jager'], of which there are no details given in the correspondence.


July 17, 1835.
I am sorry to find that the Abbé has disquieted you so much, but you must console yourself with the reflection that, according to Palmer's account, your letter deprived him of sleep several nights. You must in return expect some troublesome days ... I think we might keep him quiet while we answer him, as he has kept us quiet these five months. Do not think about the annoyance of translation while you answer the Abbé. Can you not let your pen go on, as though it were to be printed as it is written? His unfairness, shallowness, and ignorance will, we must hope, be respectively corrected, deepened, and enlightened by contact with the 'Anglican Church'; so pray write.


London: July 28, 1835.
Your kind offer when I had the pleasure of seeing you in Rome emboldens me to present to you my friend the Rev. J. Maguire [June 12, 1862:—late V.-G. of Westminster], who is desirous of visiting Oxford, and whom I hope before long to follow on the same interesting errand.

[June 13, 1862—viz. the errand of visiting Oxford. I believe Dr. W. professed to come and consult the libraries. He never did come in those years, as far as I know. Among my transcripts of my letters to Bowden there is an explanation on the subject addressed through him to Mr. Joshua Watson.]

REV. R. C. TRENCH [Now Dean of Westminster,—J. H. N. 1860] TO REV. J. H. NEWMAN

July 30, 1835.
May I, on the ground of a very brief acquaintance, ask your acceptance of one of the accompanying volumes, and also take the same or a still greater liberty with Mr. Keble? But I feel under so many obligations both to yourself and him that I am unwilling an opportunity should go by that would {104} allow me to acknowledge, even thus slightly, how considerable I must ever account these obligations to be.

Some fortnight elapsed before the volume was acknowledged; but the reader will prefer—in slight disregard of chronological order—that letter and answer should, in this instance, be read together.


August 17.
I ought before now to have acknowledged for Mr. Keble and myself your very kind and acceptable present, which I now do with many thanks. It gives me pleasure by means of it to be allowed, if I may so express myself, to make your familiar acquaintance, it being the peculiarity of the poetical gift, that it opens to others the writer's mind unconsciously, without alarming his own retired and delicate feelings.


Paignton: July 31.
Frater desiderate. Speak not of finances, since all the people here are ready to subscribe for you: as for the Abbé, you can work him here as well as anywhere.

It is exquisitely pleasant here—a hot sun with a fresh air is a luxury to which I have long been a stranger. If you were to stay here a fortnight, you might get on with your controversy and be inspired for the novel. I give out in all directions that you mean to write it, and divulge the plot.

There is nothing in the papers before the Editor to show that any ground whatever in fact, existed for the 'novel' Froude here talks of. In the postscript to 'Callista,' the author speaks of being stopped at the fifth chapter, 'from sheer inability to devise personages or incidents.' Was the attempt to express the feelings and mutual relations of Christians and heathens in early Christian times already an idea in the author's mind? The letter continues:

I forget whether I told you how much my father was taken with the historical part of your 'Arians,' and particularly its bearing on the present times.

As to your question about the laity in Convocation, I told {105} you I had tried hard to think it admissible, but that Bishop Hicks, in his 'Constitution of the Christian Church,' has convinced me that in spirituals each bishop is absolute in his own diocese, except so far as he may have bound himself by ordination oaths to his Primate—so that not only the laity but Presbyters are cut out … As to your monasticism articles in the 'British Magazine,' my father read the offensive part in the June one, and could see nothing in it that any reasonable person could object to; and some persons I know have been struck by them. I cannot see the harm of losing influence with people when you can only retain it by sinking the points on which you differ with them. Surely that would be Propter vitam vivendi, &c. What is the good of influence, except to influence people?


July 31, 1835.
I wish very much you would talk over with Palmer the feasibility of the scheme for a Church history which Maitland has suggested. I do not see any difficulties which are so formidable as to make us think it should be lightly abandoned; and every day convinces me of the urgent necessity of doing something on this head. We are perishing from ignorance. People are beginning to see the importance of the subject, and Waddington will have possession simply for want of a better.

Again, for our own country, Short's book is getting into all hands, when it ought not to be in any. I have just been looking at it again: and really can see no reason why any given pert Liberal of five-and-twenty might not write the text any day between sleeping and waking, or just after dinner, or at any other time when people live without thinking. It is really too bad to be destroyed by such books, and yet we deserve it if we do not exert ourselves. I am ready to give up my time to such an undertaking, conjointly with others.

REV. J. H. NEWMAN TO HIS MOTHER (then on a course of visits)

Oriel: July 31, 1835.
My dear Mother,—Your letter was very acceptable, and I wish I could answer it as abundantly; but somehow I find it {106} so difficult to bring together in my memory in a quarter of an hour everything I might say if I had a day to do it in.

I have not yet been able to get to Iffley (or to call on Ogle, except once, when he was out). Something has occurred every night, and the days have been too hot. I am examining for Confirmation three evenings a week now [Note 2]; and yesterday a person made his appearance as an avant-courier of Dr. Wiseman of Rome, who is to be here for some weeks. He is a Mr. Maguire, a Roman Catholic priest. He dined with us and had a good deal of conversation.

The Church will make no show for a month—they say the digging stone will take nearly that time. I am going to give them another spot to dig upon to expedite matters—namely, the corner, which we may set aside for a school-room. Which corner had it better be? Please to answer this. I shall have above fifteen candidates for Confirmation, some very interesting ones [Note 3]. When I am employed in that sort of work, I always feel how I should like a parish with nothing but pastoral duties. One great advantage of a large parish is that one can do nothing else. Nothing is so hampering to the mind as two occupations; this is what I have found both at St. Clement's and when I was Tutor at Oriel. As it is, my parish is not enough to employ me, so I necessarily make to myself two occupations—which, though necessary, is to me distracting. Some people can work better for a division of duties. Some persons cannot attend to one thing for more than two hours without a headache. I confess for myself I never do anything so well as when I have nothing else to do. I would joyfully give myself to reading or again to a parish. However, as to a large parish, there seem to me in the present state of things two special drawbacks: one, the amount of mere secular business laid on a clergyman, attendance at vestries, &c.; the other, that really at the present day we are all so ignorant of our duties, that I should be actually afraid myself, without a great deal more learning, to undertake an extensive charge. I find daily from reading the Fathers how ignorant we are in matters of practice. E.g. I mean the kind of mistakes, though not so flagrant, of the poor fellow who rebaptized a whole set of Dissenters. Hooker does a good deal for one, but even to master Hooker is no slight work. I do really fear that, for {107} the want of knowing what is right and what is wrong, the best intentioned people are making the most serious and mischievous mistakes.

I sent off to Harrison, on Monday last, the first part of my second letter to the Abbé, which is all I shall do till it is printed. I am now at Dionysius, and cannot tell what time he will take me. Rivington, in answer to a letter of mine, has written to say he means to give up the tracts. I cannot say quite that I am sorry, for what is done is done, and we shall make two volumes of them; and I shall be saved the trouble in future. I shall devolve on Keble or others the editorship, if anything new starts ... Oxford is very hot, except my rooms, which are quite cool ... I hope I shall have a good account of my Aunt's health. Ever yours dutifully,


August 3, 1835.
 … By-the-bye, talking of Hildebrand, Rose and Maitland have a grand design in contemplation, viz. that of writing an ecclesiastical history. Nothing is settled yet; I only know they are looking out for about a dozen men to divide the eighteen centuries among, and have asked Keble, Palmer and myself. It immediately struck me what a great catch it would be for them to get hold of your 'Hildebrand'; but they do not yet know their own plans. One notion they had was merely to translate Fleury, but I doubt if that would answer.

Rivington has written to say he wants to give over the tracts, so I suppose we shall end at once. This, I fear, will interfere with the 'Ruined Chapel,' 'Richard Nelson,' Part V., and others, but I do not know for certain yet.

We have had a number of Cambridge men here, one after another—not, I trust, without benefit.


London: August 4, 1835.
 … I am grieved about the tracts. If you can, you should try to have a few more, so as to make a decent second volume in point of size. If you could go on till October, it would be well; then each volume would include, would it {108} not? the tracts for a year, and it would look like a definite time for stopping. At any rate, do not close abruptly, or, as it were, fly from the field. March off with drums beating and colours flying in a farewell tract, recapitulating your motives for publishing the series, expressing your hopes quod bene vortat, and perhaps alluding to future exertions. Make it appear that the work which you had undertaken has been accomplished, not given up.

For various reasons, publishers could not give, or preferred not giving, easy circulation to the tracts, at this stage. Correspondents complain of not being able to get them from the country booksellers. It needed the impulse of zealous sympathy or violent opposition, and some bulk in the tract, with the author's name attached, or at least acknowledged, to raise the sale into a business standard of importance.


Hopton: August 6, 1835.
I shall be ready to obey your summons to meet Professor Wiseman when you please, only I suppose it must be next week, as Saturday is, I think, still a fast day with them.


August 8, 1835.
 … Many thanks for your letter as to the history scheme. My main reason for wishing a translation or modification of some already existing book is, that it ensures, not, indeed, the best thing, but something tolerable within a given time. With respect to original works, no one can doubt the superior interest which they would excite. But it is impossible to foresee when you could get anything whatever done, and we are perishing day by day for want of it. If eight or ten persons could be got together for original work, still they could not work in the same dogged way as at a mere correction, improvement, alteration, retrenchment, &c.—for the plan should allow of all these with half a dozen et-cćteras more—of an existing work. I know, for example, of myself, that in history I am never easy till I have full security that I have ferreted out all .. Such an operation is always indefinite in length, being, moreover, only the commencement of the yet more material work of arranging one's ideas, &c. {109}

Perhaps the two plans could be combined. That is, anyone who felt that he had got, or could get at once, the materials for a particular part, and that he should work more unfettered with his own material, might be considered as a most valuable labourer, because for the part he undertook he would act alone, while others who want discretion and guidance would find it in the text which they would improve by their corrections.

All that I would say, however, is let something be done, for the want is a crying one. What do our students, what do our clergy, read? What is there to recommend to them but Mosheim and Milner, and Milner and Mosheim? Yet does not every day's debate in Parliament show the importance of the thing, and tell us, trumpet-tongued, that as we sow we shall reap—that deserved ruin is the fruit of wilful negligence and ignorance of the history of the Gospel?


August 9, 1835.
 … I think I shall go down to Froude for ten days. I am very unwilling to do it, but it is so uncertain whether he will be able to come to Oxford at all, that I think I ought to secure seeing him before he goes abroad ... Dionysius gets on slowly, as he is taking me, as I expected he would, into a consideration of the Apollinarian Controversy, which requires a good deal of reading. This it is which makes me so unwilling to leave Oxford, for I foresee I shall just be in the very heart of my investigation, with all manner of critical points and delicate arguments in the balance, and a number of half-unravelled threads in hand when I am forced to break off ...

Poor Blanco White's book has at length appeared: that is, his first book. I suppose after his death there will be a second. It is as bad as can be. He evidently wishes to be attacked. I hope as far as possible he will be let alone; it will do him most good. He is not contented till he is talked about, and he has a morbid pleasure in being abused.

Writing from Dartington soon after to his sister, there is an allusion to the beauty of that country, which recalls his vivid impression on first visiting it, and shows the same resistance to its charm: {110}

This country is certainly overpoweringly beautiful and enchanting, except to those who are resolved not to be enchanted.


August 9, 1835.
Rogers and another friend, by way of supplement, have offered for your acceptance Du Cange's Glossary, and the book is now in your room, or rather has been there above a month.

I shall bring with me a lot of sermons to try to put together a third volume, and shall get you to help me. At present I am hard at Dionysius, i.e. the Apollinarian Controversy. Afterwards will follow the Nestorian, and by the time I have finished I shall have materials (I suppose) for a volume on the Incarnation to accompany the 'Arians.' Nothing but some object would enable me to rouse myself to such subtle speculations (though in these times, surely most necessary, unless we are to be swept away, creeds, Church and all), and Dionysius answers this purpose: e.g. in a certain creed given to the Council of Antioch, A.D. 264, occurs the word [prosopon] as applied to the [suntheton] or union of the [phuseis] in our Lord. Now I think to be able to prove that it was not so used till A.D. (say) 392. You see what investigations this must lead to.

I conceive that I have entirely beaten you as regards the Abbé, for you have brought the matter to this issue. The Abbé, so far from contesting the point, I think, would be obliged to grant that tradition (prophetical) had no innate self-sanction, for (in the Latin theory) the Church in council (or otherwise) gives that sanction; till then, this or that tradition has no authority at all. The Bible, then, has a sanction independent of the Church; the (prophetical) tradition has none. Therefore, when asked why I make a distinction between the word written and unwritten, I answer that, first, on the face of the matter, the Scriptures came with a claim; tradition does not. By-the-bye, I am surprised more and more to see how the Fathers insist on the Scriptures as the Rule of Faith, even in proving the most subtle parts of the doctrine of the Incarnation. As to Vincentius Lirinensis, he starts by making tradition only interpretation.

The tracts are defunct, or in extremis. Rivington has {111} written to say they do not answer. Pusey has written one on Baptism very good, of ninety pages, which is to be printed at his risk. That, and one or two to finish the imperfect series (on particular subjects) will conclude the whole. I am not sorry, as I am tired of being editor.

Palmer will finish his work in two volumes by the spring. It is to be a book of Law—that is, the rules of the Church, with proofs, answers to objections, examples, cases of casuistry, &c.; in fact, one of the very things we want. Keble is going to introduce into his own Prolegomena a sketch of Hooker's doctrine, which will do the same service in another way. It would be much if we could cram all our men in one and the same way of talking on various points, e.g. what the Church holds about heretical baptism, about ordination before baptism, about the power of bishops, &c. [N.B.—See my preface to 'Prophetical Office.']

This is a strong point of Romanism; they have their system so well up. A Mr. Maguire, a Roman priest, dined with us the other day, who was an instance of this, and it astonished people so ... What disgusted us in Mr. Maguire was his defending not only O'Connell, but Hume. In fact, I suppose he does not see the difference between the dog and the hog, and we are but dogs in his eyes.

As to our prospects, I expect nothing favourable for fifteen or twenty years; that is, we shall perchance grow, but it will be a while before three hundred men lap water with their tongues.


August 12, 1835.
Thank you very much for your last gratifying and satisfactory letter. Rogers has been with me for a few days, to my great satisfaction. Really I ought to be very thankful that my inconvenience [N.B. the weakness of his eyes] is so slight compared with his. I fear I should not bear it with such a cheerful unpretending patience as he does. Though a very cheerful, he is no light companion. He has left so many of what Acland would call 'views' as quite to bewilder our crass wits unsharpened to scholastic subtleties. If my friendship with him had been shorter than it is, I should wonder at the quantity of matter he seems to collect and digest, though unable to read. But I have ever remarked he is one of the {112} shrewdest listeners I ever saw. His countenance will tell yow that, wherever interesting conversation is going on about him. Among other things he assured me you are not bored by receiving letters, when not unnecessarily pressed for answers. I considered you in some sort as forming the centre of a system of certain opinions and men; and to know the one and communicate the others, there must be intercourse of some sort. Supposing there was an order in Oxford for a few martyrs, how could you tell whom to summon as a fit subject for the faggot or the block, unless you had some notion of our present bodily adaptation for the different exhibitions? Again, in case of a call for a tournament with some fiery ecclesiastic, how could you tell whether D— still retained his jackboots and good broadsword, or whether long inaction had not disqualified him for adventuring such a forlorn hope?

 … I am afraid that one object which I should be anxious to accomplish there [in Oxford] cannot be effected. I mean the seeing and being made acquainted with Keble. Rogers tells me he is about to move shortly to a living in Hampshire. I wish Keble's was a parish to need a curate and that he would take me. That might be even better for me than if .1 had been a Fellow of Oriel.

There was one piece of information which Rogers gave me, about which I must say a word. He seemed to think that you were doing more than your strength would bear. Now,, excuse me, my dear Newman, I would not willingly say that which is unbecoming in this matter, but let me make one remark. You occupy at present an important position (how or why is another consideration) ; you are looked to as a point. of union by many whom it might be difficult to bring into cordial co-operation without you. You know how many little circumstances are required to bring about any cordial union among men widely scattered, or upon the same spot, when there is no point of centralisation. Do not, therefore, run any great risk of incapacitating yourself for promoting those views which you yourself entertain, by pressing things forward, the effect and benefit of which upon the minds of others must at best be doubtful and slow. 'Festina lente' is a good motto for those who look towards great and important ends. {113}


August 23, 1835.
I am sick of expecting a letter; for the last week I have every day made sure of one, and been disappointed. I cannot help fearing you are not well.

The more I read of Athanasius, Theodoret, &c., the more I see that the ancients did make the Scriptures the basis of their belief. The only question is, would they have done so in another point besides the [theologia], &c., which happened in the early ages to be in discussion? I incline to say the Creed is the faith necessary to salvation, as well as to Church communion, and to maintain that Scripture, according to the Fathers, is the authentic record and document of this faith. It surely is reasonable that 'necessary to salvation' should apply to the Baptismal Creed: 'In the name of,' &c. (vid. He who believeth &c.). Now the Apostles' Creed is nothing but this; for the Holy Catholic Church, &c. [in it] are but the medium through which God comes to us. Now this [theologia], I say, the Fathers do certainly rest on Scripture, as upon two tables of stone. I am surprised more and more to see how entirely they fall into Hawkins's theory even in set words, that Scripture proves and the Church teaches. I believe it would be extremely difficult to show that tradition is ever considered by them (in matters of faith) more than interpretative of Scripture. It seems that when a heresy rose they said at once 'That is not according to the Church's teaching,' i.e. they decided it by the prćjudicium [N.B. prescription] of authority. Again, when they met together in council they brought the witness of tradition as a matter of fact, but when they discussed the matter in council, cleared their views, &c., proved their power, they always went to Scripture alone. They never said 'It must be so and so, because St. Cyprian says this, St. Clement explains in his third book of the “Pćdagogue,” &c.' and with reason; for the Fathers are a witness only as one voice, not in individual instances, or, much less, isolated passages, but every word of Scripture is inspired and available.

I must (so be it) come down to you before vacation ends, to get some light struck out by collision.

Did I tell you that I have prevailed on Keble to publish about a dozen of University Sermons? {114}

Froude in his answer to this letter argues as follows:


 … You lug in the Apostles' Creed and talk about expansions. What is the end of expansions? Will not the Romanists say that their whole system is an expansion of the Holy Catholic Church and the Communion of Saints?


August 27, 1835.
I want much to hear a little about Froude and yourself. I hear rumours of a visit of Dr. Wiseman to Oxford. What has become, or what is going to become, of that?

I went to Visit W. lately. He acquires a certain weight and respectability by being rather the organ of the Oxford High Church party ...

We dined with his Rector, and I can much more realise to myself a Radical [ethos] than I ever could before. I never before was treated absolutely like nothing. W. was rather better off; but any remarks I made (which were few) were honoured with that short, civil, final answer which makes rejoinder out of the question: W., he, and myself, being the only three persons at table. Accordingly I came home, thinking him without exception the greatest prig I had ever had the honour of being despised by. I trust he is not a specimen of a class. [N.B.—This is the very reason why I have extracted this; because he was a specimen of a class. I fell in with him once, and can quite understand the above description of him.—J. H. N.]

Do you know that Acland's friend Sterling is the man who told W. at Bonn that a new Arminian party was springing up in Oxford, who held Laud's doctrines of Church government, and would inevitably destroy the Church if they gained power.

How did you get on with him and Trench? and what is your judgment of the Cambridge Neophytes on the whole? I hear Trench was much struck by the truth of your saying that fear was what Cambridge wanted.

By the way, is not Interpretation of Scripture a subject which you ought to take up? It seems to me that neological interpretation is pretty much in the place where Locke's {115} toleration system was, when he brought it out, or sooner. You have with you on that point people's preconceived opinions; and soon, unless prevented, I should have fancied that intellectual people, and consequently more or less the mass of candid people, would have got semi-neological habits of viewing things, which, I suppose, would leave you nothing to build a Church system on. Is not the impressing right canons of interpretation likely to furnish soon the surest check, if not turn, to march of mind? And will not every year add to the difficulty of impressing them on well-meaning unthinking persons?

I have been excessively amused by seeing parts of your letter to the Abbé [N.B. Jager]. I cannot say how much I laughed. I did not read any of the real controversial part ...


Oriel College: August 1835.
My dear Aunt,—I am always reproaching myself that I do not write to you, but every day brings its own business, and I have so many letters of business to write as to find time for none else. And then, you see, writing is my employment. I scarcely have the pen out of my hand for half an hour together, except at meals and walking, whereas writing is a recreation in many professions ...

At present I am busied with examining points of doctrine connected with the subject of my book on the Arians, which carries me forward into a very large field of reading, principally in the Fathers. The immediate object to which I am making this subservient is to an edition of the fragments of St. Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria, in the middle of the third century. But I have far graver objects in view. I mean, one must expect a flood of scepticism on the most important subjects to pour over the land, and we are so unprepared, it is quite frightful to think of it. The most religiously minded men are ready to give up important doctrinal truths because they do not understand their value. A cry is raised that the Creeds are unnecessarily minute, and even those who would defend, through ignorance cannot. Thus, e.g., Sabellianism has been spreading of late years, chiefly because people have said 'What is the harm of Sabellianism? It is a mere name,' &c. I am sorry to say that the editor of Mrs. More's {116} letters has been ill advised enough to allow letters to appear in which she, in the freedom of private correspondence, speaks slightingly of the Constantinopolitan Fathers (who composed the Nicene Creed, as we now use it). Well, what is the consequence? We just now have a most serious and impressive warning if we choose to avail ourselves of it. Poor Blanco White has turned Socinian, and written a book glorying in it. Now in the preface to this book he says: 'I have for some time been a Sabellian, but the veil is now removed from my eyes, for I find Sabellianism is but Unitarianism in disguise.' Now what would Mrs. More, or rather her editor, say on hearing this? on seeing that her scoffing at the Creeds of the Church had been a strengthening, so far as it went, of a system of doctrine which ends in Unitarianism? It is most melancholy to think about. What is most painful is that the clergy are so utterly ignorant on the subject. We have no theological education, and instead of profiting by the example of past times, we attempt to decide the most intricate questions, whether of doctrine or conduct, by our blind and erring reason.

In my present line of reading, then, I am doing what I can to remedy this defect in myself, and (if so be) in some others. And it is a very joyful thought which comes to me with a great force of confidence to believe that, in doing so, I am one out of the instruments which our gracious Lord is employing with a purpose of good towards us. I mean that I believe God has not (so I trust) abandoned this branch of His Church which He has set up in England, and that, though for our many sins He has brought us into captivity to an evil world, and sons of Belial are lords over us, yet from time to time He sends us judges and deliverers as in the days of Gideon and Barak. I do verily believe that some such movement is now going on, and that the Philistines are to be smitten, and, believing it, I rejoice to join myself to the army of rescue, as one of those who lapped with the tongue when the rest bowed down to drink. And in saying this I do not take anything to myself personally, because Scripture has many warnings to us that those need not be highest in God's future favour or fullest in grace who even are His chief instruments here. Solomon's history is quite proof enough that the builders of the Church are not necessarily His truest servants, though they are on the right side, but may be surpassed by those who seem to do little towards the work. And Barak's history gives us another lesson akin to it, which I think of {117} general application—'The Lord delivered Sisera into the hand of a woman'—and surely it is the prayers of those who have especial leisure for prayer which do the Church most service. Do not, my dear Aunt, let us lose the benefit of your continual prayers, as I am sure we do not, that God would be pleased for His dear Son's sake to make us useful to Him in our day, that we may not lose or abuse our opportunities or gifts, but may do the work which He means us to do, and that manfully; that we may have a single aim, a clear eye, and a strong arm, and a courageous heart, and may be blessed inwardly in our own souls, as well as prosper in the edification of the Church. I am quite sure it is by prayers such as yours, of those whom the world knows nothing of, that the Church is saved, and I know I have them in particular, as you have also mine, my dear Aunt, every morning and evening.
Ever yours affectionately.


August 28, 1835.
I had a surprise last week. Mr. Stone's son called on me to say that he wanted my leave for Mr. Perkins of Ch. Ch. to marry him in my church, to a young woman of my parish. On inquiry, I found it was the other Miss J., and in great dismay I asked him if she was baptized, as I had asked about the other last year. He said yes, Mr. Perkins himself had baptized her at St. Clement's two or three days before. This was as pleasant a relief as I ever had. The other sister, Mrs. P., is soon to be baptized, if she is not by this time, and they both are to be confirmed next week. This makes me think Rogers right in saying he used to see Miss J. at my Wednesday evening lecture this year, which I did not believe.


Oriel College: August 30, 1835.
 … We are expecting Dr. Wiseman now, as his avant-courier said he would come when September began. The said courier was a Mr. Maguire, a Roman Catholic priest of the College of St. Edmund's, near Ware ... He would not allow that Dr. Wiseman was desirous Sir R. Peel should remain in power, which is what some one told me. He was on {118} his way to Mr. Stonor. I can fancy we shall be honoured with the peculiar hatred of these people, if we are ever in a condition to show fight. I see in him the very same spirit I saw in Dr. Wiseman, the spirit of the cruel Church. I believe he would willingly annihilate the English Church. Keble and I puzzled him; whether we enlightened him, I doubt.


Mr. Sterling had a téte-ŕ-téte of three hours with Keble and me. We got on most famously. He hoped to see us at his house, &c.; confessed he has heard my opinions exaggerated.

Dionysius is nearly done—i.e. as far as it can be till I read more. I have used up all the documents on the Apollinarian Controversy, and have written an account of it with references. And I think of going to the Valentinian Heresy next. Already it has thrown some light (in my own opinion) on the question of the Ecthesis, &c.

I am at present proceeding with the Abbé, and have cleared up my own ideas on the subject much. This, indeed, is my only recompense; for I do not for an instant expect the Abbé will ever give me fair play. I hope this is a recompense, for I have little to show this vacation in point of work done. The time seems to have slipped away in a dream. Perhaps it would be as well to go down to Froude, were it only to adjust my notions to his. Dear fellow, long as I have anticipated what I suppose must come, I feel quite raw and unprepared. I suppose one ought to get as much as one can from him, dum licet.

It is a curious thing that your notion about canons of Scripture interpretation has been running in my head, and in my second volume of Sermons I attempted indirectly to give rules for it; e.g. sermon for Epiphany, St. Philip and St. James, &c. And the other day I had a letter thanking me (you need not tell this) for the second volume on this very ground, that it put Scripture quite in a new light. Also, it was my object in my Wednesday lectures this year. However, when I talk with you, I shall see how far I have got your meaning—which I am not certain I have in full. Run down to H. Wilberforce (Harrison is going) and I will meet you there. I daresay there is a farmhouse near, where we can lodge. Think of this, and write to Harrison about it. {119}


September 3, 1835.
I called at the Stamp Office on Monday and saw Bowden. He tells me that Rivington gives up the tracts after next month. Have you settled what is to be done? Is it not a pity to give them up? They seem to supply a channel of communication, by a system of pipes let on, with many holes and corners, along which gas, or what not, may be laid as occasion requires. Or are the pipes unhappily few? Could you not strengthen them by a little more originality?

Rose wants books like Knox, Jacob Abbott, &c., discussed in the Magazine. I suppose you will not do anything of the kind till the Theological that is to be comes out ...

 … Pusey read Knox very attentively, I know.


September 4, 1835.
Many thanks for thinking about me as to the early monasteries. I had hoped ere this to have been able to have read something about them, but the vacation is now nearly past; so all I can do is to keep clear of the subject. There is, however, one point for you to clear, as it leads to much depreciation of them, and, if well founded, rightly: viz. they are thought to have neglected the means of grace. Is there any notice of their being able in their solitudes to obtain them?

My first thought about the tracts was, 'Well, if they are brought to an end by outward means out of our control, Newman will have time for more solid productions' (this I wrote to you). My second, regret that they must be given up, and a sort of feeling that their being protracted by means of my 'Baptism' tract beyond what we intended or wished, so as just to fill up the remainder of this year, was intended to give us a breathing time, and yet enable us to carry them on. They were lengthened out against our will, so that we could not break them off when we would.

Then, again, seeing that it would be a relief to you to suspend them for awhile, I thought, perhaps, that they might have done their work, and they might be resumed less offensively under another name: i.e. that we might gently let down the persons who have ignorantly declared against them. {120} But I fear those persons have too far committed themselves, and are too ingrained with moderatism; and being older than ourselves, and some vain and accustomed to rule, they are the less likely to give way; and our society may very probably, and, in proportion as it has any influence, will, I suppose, be more obnoxious than the tracts.

Again, it is an object to follow up the blow. What think you of continuing the tracts, not binding yourself to monthly productions (which is worrying) nor again to quarterly (which might require too long ones), but producing them on the first of several months; if ready, well—if not to wait for the next? You might take the advantage, I mean, of Rivington's monthly circulation, when you had anything ready, and when not, not fash yourself about it.

Something to stem the tide of the American Dissenting divinity would be very useful. You need not bind yourself to produce a volume in 1836, or that the volume should be of a certain thickness.

I mean, in my preface, to enter a protest against Mr. S.'s [Mr. Stanley, afterwards Bishop of Norwich] quotation and characterisation of the 'tracts,' &c. I should like to see the pamphlet.

Rivington has just begun printing my notes [to Baptism?] in earnest: so I suppose he means to bring them out in February.

A Christian newspaper has long been a desideratum of mine. Neither the 'Standard' nor 'Record' is this. With the 'Standard' an Established is an Orthodox Church ...

I think the tracts are very valuable as a rallying point. It keeps people in check to know that such opinions are held [Note 4]. They have a half-consciousness that they are true, or likely to be so, and they cannot follow their own inclinations to sink down the stream peacefully as they would if there were no such bars. The leap is so much longer, and in proportion the more dangerous; and there may be from time to time some who will pause and examine whither we are all going.


September 4, 1835.

 … The tracts in their new form (if it is gone on with as Keble hopes) may become a sort of Apostolical review. There {121} is no getting at them in any possible way. —— was down here giving out the dictum that before long every one will be compelled to take Arnold's ground, who will not go all lengths with us; for that there is no tenable medium ... I should not wonder if all Arnold's attacks on the priesthood, &c., made more converts to it than not.


September 9, 1835.
I have written a tract upon Infant Baptism, the great subject to which the state of our neighbourhood calls one's attention. If it be wanted, and likely to serve the purpose, I should rather have it among the series ['Tracts for the Times'] than by itself. In reading those of the tracts which I have, it has struck me that there is too close a resemblance between the titles of many of them, and that a larger range of subject would not at all shut out recurrence to the same great points again and again.

I actually found that one of the leading clergymen in Norfolk had formed a joint school with the Dissenters under the express condition that he should give up the Church Catechism. He acknowledged it to be quite true, and perhaps not to be defended; but he neither expressed sorrow for what he had done, nor professed any intention of retracting it.


September 10, 1835.
I propose coming to you next week. Besides looking over sermons, I want to read you what I have written to the Abbé and to get up the controversy between Bossuet and Wake, and to write an essay against Erskine, Chalmers, Knox, B. White, &c., on the subject of Objective Religion.

We mean the tracts should formally take up the Popish question. If you saw my 'Home Thoughts,' No. 2 (not that there is much in it), you would understand my line very completely. The great principle is this, that one cannot go across country and make short cuts; you must go along the road. The said 'Home Thoughts' is to appear directly Rose finds room. I wish as much as you that Rose were unshackled; but recollect he has two unanimous masters, and that [Bia] and [Kratos] could bend Prometheus himself.

Keble is delighted with Pusey's tract on Baptism. {122}


September 12, 1835.
We shall be ready for you whenever you come. —— and a young doctor called Hinkson, who has paid much attention to the stethoscope, examined my chest all over; and they both told my father they never examined a chest in which there was more complete freedom from bad symptoms. Yet they say the disorder in my throat is dangerous unless stopped. Dr. Yonge is decided that I am not to go abroad this winter. [On September 15 I got to Dartington. I left and took my last farewell of R. H. F. on Sunday, October11, in the evening, sleeping at Exeter. When I took leave of him, his face lighted up and almost shone in the darkness, as if to say that in this world we were parting for ever.—J. H. N.]


September 23, 1835.

If you would deduct a little from your [megalopsuchia], you would understand my remark which you ingeniously interpret of your Wednesday lectures. I spoke of your overdoing your bodily powers by too close mental application, without expressing an opinion whether the matter on which that application was bestowed, or the particular manner of its bestowal in itself, was or was not desirable. So you need neither go to Hooker nor to Pusey to resolve the difficulty which I have occasioned you.

A letter of Mr. Newman's, dated October 10, says in a postscript, 'Wilson of Bocking is going to be curate to Keble, whose marriage is soon to take place.'


October 10, 1835.
 … Rationalism is the attempt to know how things are about which you can know nothing. When we give reasons for alleged facts and reduce them into dependence on each other, we feel a satisfaction which is wanting when we receive them as isolated and unaccountable, i.e. a satisfaction of the reason. On the other hand, when they stand unaccounted for, they impart a satisfaction of their own kind—namely, of {123} the imagination. When we ask for reasons when we should not, we rationalise. When we detach and isolate things which we should connect, we are superstitious.


Dartington: October 10, 1835.
I am quite decided that I cannot be editor of the tracts if they come out once a month, nor would I recommend any one else to be. It is the way to make them mere trash. One is pressed for time, and writes for the occasion stopgaps. I am conscious there are some stopgaps in the tracts already ... We shall be losing credit and influence if we so go on. As I was strongly for short tracts on beginning, so am I for longer now. We must have much more treatises than sketches. I say all this from experience. As to how often, whether quarterly or on certain seasons, I have no view at present; but I foretell ruin to the cause if the tracts go on by monthly driblets …


October 28, 1835.
As to the tracts, I am quite undecided about their subjects till Pusey returns. He and Keble both being away puts everything wrong. My own difficulty about the Popery series is the arduousness of the subject, requiring as it does a profound knowledge of historical facts.


Southampton: Thursday morning, October 15, 1835.
I have just got here from Lyndhurst and find the Oxford coach full. Nothing therefore is left for me but to go up to London and try to get to Oxford in that way. Be so good as to make my excuses to 'College' for my non-appearance; it is the first time (I believe) I ever was away any day of an Audit (except when abroad) since I have been Fellow. I trust I shall be with you tomorrow.

Were not this so villainous a pen, I would try to add something to this. Dear Froude is pretty well, but is languishing for want of his Oxford contubernians. I trust I have been of use in this way in stimulating his spirits. So strongly do I feel this from what I see and hear of him, that {124} I mean almost to make myself responsible for some intimate going down to him at Christmas. He is allowed to read now, which is a great comfort. I am to send him a lot of books. It is wonderful, almost mysterious, that he should remain so long just afloat; and as far as it is mysterious, it is hopeful—really it would seem as if he were kept alive by the uplifted hands of Moses, which is an encouragement to persevere. However, so be it.

I have just parted with H. [H. W.], with whom I have been for two days. I met W. under his roof, who carries on him, amiable as I dare say he is, the impress of a man who has risen in the world; which thing is impossible in a man who has ever walked the air, and is lofty-minded. M. N. outherods him, and is in manner a strange specimen of donnishness grafted on 'spiritual-mindedness.' Alas! but it is a shame so to talk. The Bishop was exceedingly civil, and hoped I would call at —— if I came that way.

Also I have been several days in houses with the Bishop of Exeter, who was exceedingly gracious, and begged to see me, or rather hoped it, at the Palace. Thus you see, on the whole, I have been in good society.

Valeas, carissimme; best love to Christie and the rest.

The following letter illustrates the freedom, and even coolness, with which Mr. Newman's friends could enter upon what sensitive authors might consider delicate ground:


October 21, 1835.
As all your part in the proposed arrangement between Keble and me is now complete, I must thank you most heartily for the kind interest you have shown in bringing about this (for me) most desirable change. I hardly like even now to speak of it as certain. Indeed, until I have fairly taken possession, I shall not feel quite at ease.

Rogers tells me you are about to put forth a third volume of Sermons. You will not mind my saying that I am rather sorry for it, not for your sake nor for my sake, but for the sake of the principles which they will contain. What I mean is this: that I do not like there should be appearance that the principles which you profess should seem only developable under one form. Therefore I should have been glad if another {125} holding the same opinions had published a volume, and not you, that it might be seen how these same principles admit of variations in the filling up, mode of application, &c. &c., according as minds of a different order and constitution receive and apply them to practical subjects.


Oriel: St. Luke's Day, 1835.
I did not arrive here till yesterday morning, to the great consternation of the College [i.e. the Provost.—J. H. N.] which, as in A. Buller's case, misses those most who are most regular [Note 5]. The coaches were full, so I have been obliged to come round by London, and, having business there, I did not regret it. Rivington will publish a third volume; and, please will you manage to get for me your father's leave to dedicate it in a few words to him?

Keble was married on the 10th and told no one. 'The College' [the Provost] has but heard from him that he resigns his fellowship on that day without a year of grace.

I engage to undertake and pledge myself to provide a visitor for you next Christmas. Rogers or Mozley [Tom Mozley] or Williams. But if no one comes I will come myself, which would be too great a pleasure, for I cannot put into words, or rather I do not realise to myself, how much the genius loci of Dartington Parsonage draws. I could be very foolish did I allow myself. All my own reminiscences of the place are sad, and I am almost debarred from them; and I seem to have no right 'alienigena' to intrude elsewhere.

[N.B. This feeling is expressed in the verses I wrote on my first visit to Dartington in 1831.

There stray'd awhile amid the woods of Dart [Note 6].

P.S. I have never seen Dartington since I saw Hurrell there.]

The following letter from Froude contains a passage quoted in the 'Apologia.'


1835, Dies Omnium Sanctorum.—After all this delay I write without being able to report progress; but don't be hard {126} upon me. I have been up to little more than thinking in my armchair or listening to a novel.

By dawdling over Blanco White's books, I think I have got more insight into his state of mind and views than I had at first, and shall be able to make great allowance for much that he says without any affectation of candour ... As to Sabellianism and facts, I fear you have been unable to cram me with your views. Your 'Arians' shows in a few lines what Blanco White declares that Sabellianism is—only Crypto-Socinianism, but how to say more about it I know not.

Don't be conceited if I tell you how much you are missed here in many quarters. Now you are gone I clearly see that a step has been gained. Even I come in for my share of the benefit in finding myself partially extricated from an unenviable position hitherto occupied by me—that of a prophet in his own country ...

Before I finish I must enter another protest against your cursing and swearing at the end of the first 'Via Media' as you do. What good can it do? I call it uncharitable to an excess. How mistaken we may ourselves be on many points that are only gradually opening on us! Surely we should reserve 'blasphemous' and 'impious' for denials of the articles of the faith. [N. B. Here I find one illustration among a thousand of the meaning of my saying in the passage which Stanley, Faber, Whately, &c. have made so much of in my retractation in 1843, 'While I keep to our divines, I am safe, &c.' That was the answer I should make to such protests as this of Froude's.—J. H. N.]


November 15, 1835.
I was in a particularly do-nothing way the day I got your letter. I don't know whether you know the sensation of a pulse above 100. If you do, I think you will admit it not to be favourable to mental exertion. So you see I can't count on myself or make promises, and wish much I was not committed at all. As to the review of Blanco White, it is an amusement to me, for which I am grateful to you but being tied up about time, correcting the proofs, &c., are my bothers. I may, indeed, be up to businesslike work soon, and I hope I shall, but I am no prophet. So I have almost a mind to tell Boone [Note 7] that I will let it stand over till the next. {127}


November 15, 1835.
As to my undertaking the tracts for the next year, I really must consider it a little more seriously than I have done before I engage to do so. I see many and great objections (I don't mean discomforts to myself, but disadvantages to the cause) and no sufficient advantage to outweigh them. If you want an immediate answer, it must be in the negative; if not, we will consider it all over and over, when I come up to lecture. It must be either on the 1st or 8th of December.

John [F. Christie] is becoming, I hope, tolerably comfortable and tame at Hursley. I fear it was rather dismal for him at first. I expect Wilson some day this week.

The parish is for the most part quite unlike Bisley, rather settled on the lees, and I foresee that it would be an extreme uphill business to get up any right notion of Fridays there. If that could be accomplished, they are not, perhaps, ill disposed towards many other parts of the system: but Christie can tell you more about this than I can.

Whoever has the tracts, by all means let us have some circulars with instructions, how to deal with booksellers to procure something like agency in distributing them. We are lodging in the house of a Tory bookseller who has many symptoms of being a real good fellow.

As to a paper at your Society, I want to get Hooker clear out of hand before I engage on anything else.

By-the-bye, why should not Pusey be editor of the tracts? If you give up, surely on every account he is the fittest person. As far as I can judge, I very much approve of their being anti-Romanist this year: but whether in that case I can be of much use in them, is another thing. I must read hard to be so.


November 17, 1835.
R. Williams, who went away last night, and is a very good fellow, gave me the frank before I knew of your change of place. Rogers talked of coming to you December 13 or 14.

I shall write to Boone tonight to tell him that you think you could not get the article done in time for January. I {128} will take it through the press if you will trust me. Do not fuss yourself or think yourself pledged.

Denison is going to give up the tuition at Christmas. He has been five years tutor! He professes one especial reason has been his disgust at finding men will take private tutors. You recollect this was the very reason for our system, which I put on paper for the Provost before our controversy; the remarkable thing is that our view should have been proved to be correct in so short a time. Is it not remarkable that Denison, clever and popular man as he is, has not got for the College one first class? They say Utterton is soon to have one, but he is a private pupil of Rogers's—the old succession.

Keble was thrown from his horse, and broke a small bone in his shoulder, but is better. He will not be editor of the tracts. What we think of doing now is to make our centres sell only the existing ones, and suspend operations for awhile, if not sine die.

M. Bunsen has pronounced upon our views, gathered from the 'Arians' (!), with singular vehemence. He says that, if we succeed, we shall be introducing Popery without authority, Protestantism without liberty, Catholicism without universality, and Evangelism without spirituality. In the greater part of which censure doubtless you agree.

Wilson has sent me an extract from Mr. Peter Hall's Church Reform book: where he speaks of the Oxford Tracts as being, with the 'British Magazine,' the organs of the 'carnal and worldly part of the Church,' who desire nothing but the loaves and fishes, and hate nothing so much as the Articles.

The Theological [meeting] commenced last week, Pusey reading a paper on the general subject. I follow on Friday next, with the 'Rule of Faith,' which I read you.

The Duke has sent down a letter to the Heads, saying we must either explain our Subscription or postpone our enforcing it to the B.A. degree, &c., and advising the Heads to carry it through at whatever trouble or risk. Ne ille nos non intelligit. The Heads have expressed and (it is said) written back their opinion that it is impossible. Phillpotts hindered his voting against us the past session only by rowing him and putting him in a passion, and, I suppose, by promising something should be done by next year (all this in confidence). Pusey and Co. have maintained a dignified position. They see no objection to the principle of an explanation, only wait to see it produced. {129}


December 3, 1835.
I rather think you may expect to be introduced to Mrs. Keble next week. Their house will not be ready for them till the latter end of it, by which time I suppose Keble will be vicar of Hursley. He ventured to have service in St. Andrew's, and has also indirectly informed people from his pulpit that he intends to have daily morning and evening service. Folks are rather astonished, I believe, but I expect he will have a larger congregation than yourself. Golightly will be shocked to hear that he gave but too much countenance to prayers for the dead in the same sermon; though he did not say that the wickedness of the Reformation times made the custom to be disused, as I hear some one else did.

Claughton has informed me of the result of the Balliol election, and of the classes. Poor Oriel! I mean as to the latter. As for Balliol, I confess I had some sort of lingering hope that James Mozley might astonish them, and his essay reconcile Jenkyns to the indignity of a third class.


December 10, 1835.
In the last five days I have written forty of the enclosed sixty-three pages. If the humour lasts I may do the rest in a jiffy. I have spent a week with Dr. Yonge ... I believe my other symptoms are what they were, neither better nor worse. Dr. Yonge was not satisfied with the effect of steel, and changed it for I know not what, three days ago, since which I am decidedly stronger. But the Bishop of Llandaff has warned us against confounding succession with causation. If Rogers will bring my breviary I shall be obliged. I shall be delighted if Mozley comes with him. They will meet Wilson, though but for a day.


December 19, 1835.
It was a great pleasure to me to meet poor Froude, though he looks sadly, and, without any abatement of those symptoms which must make his friends most anxious about him, appears weaker a great deal than when he was in Oxford. To me he {130} was a more interesting person than ever, because I find that his peculiar way of thinking and manner of expressing himself, which I thought might only belong to him in health and strength, continue just the same. I saw also Rogers there for a day.

I wish I had Wood's power of arranging and dividing, and then I should have a chance of giving you in some order, what at present must come haphazard. I was not startled at all at Keble's way of going on, so far as that phrase means any reference to things to be done or lines of conduct. But so far as it may mean talking I was startled, and for this reason: I knew as a fact that I was a stranger to Keble; I also felt strange and embarrassed with him. It was continually crossing me, 'Am I sufficiently acquainted with Keble to be admitted to opinions which I should feel disinclined promiscuously to report?' Does he, then, talk to any who come across him thus, or has he been told that I am shilly-shally, halting and vacillating, and therefore administers a kind of test to try my capabilities? This last seemed to me most probable, and therefore I responded by freely expressing my hesitation, ignorance, difficulty, probably disagreement also, wherever I thought they would tend to throw light on what he was perhaps anxious to know. And this brings me to account for my use of the word 'embarrassed' above. Ever since he first wrote to me I have had a strong conviction that you, in your kind readiness to promote my advantage and comfort, have not been fair towards Keble. If you had told him all you felt, he would not have written as he did, nor in consequence made me feel like an overrated article palmed upon him, which upon first inspection he would find out, and whose real quality, I say it honestly, I wished him to find out at once. Looking at myself, I do not swerve an inch from my original satisfaction; thinking of him, my spirit rather sinks.

I should gladly have said somewhat here about the class of persons who go further when not asked than when asked; but perhaps you would misunderstand me, as I regret to say you seem sometimes to do in my letters. It hurts me that you should treat me as if you thought me touchy, and, indeed, so far as you are concerned, I do not think I deserve it. Why should you talk of feeling delicate towards me, as if I required the gentle handling which is used with frail goods under glass cases? However, though I do not write here of the idiosyncrasies which you suspect in me, I should be glad to talk with you on the {131} subject. Moreover, Mr. Norris is anxious to take your acquaintance. Are you coming to London between Christmas and the first week in January? You say you have no secret meaning, and, therefore I have written as if there had been no exception, or rather objection, taken against me by Keble, and have only spoken of myself and my feelings. I will answer for not taking ill any hint you might give me of any disinclination on his part.


December 21, 1835.
By Rogers's account things don't go exactly as they ought at Oxford. Golius (Golightly) has rebelled, he says, and Ben Harrison has jibbed; and the Theological meetings go flat, and old Mozley won't work. Harpsfield is the writer on the Breviary services whose name I could not remember. Rogers says that Sancta Clara is rich. Wilson, for your comfort, is much less tender in the finger's end than he was last spring, though I hear Keble does complain of his being rather soft.

I very much wish to hear of your putting into execution your plan of a campaign in London, and enlarging the basis of operations.

In a letter from Mr. Rogers to Mr. Newman, written from Dartington, where according to Mr. Newman's arrangement he was spending Christmas with Hurrell Froude, mention is made of Froude's manner to his sister.


I am excessively amused at the alternations of treatment Miss Froude is subject to from Hurrell and Mr. B. In fact, I can hardly help being in a constant half-laughter when anything is going on between Froude and his sister.

There is a note, added years after, by J. H. N. to this passage, which surely may be given here when the lady's brother (Mr. J. Anthony Froude) has indulged his own pen, in his paper in 'Good Words,' March 1881, in dwelling with such warmth of friendly feeling on the character and personality of the writer. {132}

[N.B.—Mary Froude was one of the sweetest girls I ever saw. She was at this time engaged to Mr. B. He used to come with a great consciousness of his situation, much gravity, and great reverence for her. Hurrell, on the other hand, treated his sister, in a good-humoured way, as a little child, calling her Poll, and sending her about on messages, &c., to Mr. B.'s seeming scandal and distress. Mary Froude all the while was the very picture of naturalness and simplicity, receiving with equal readiness and equability the homage of the one and the playful rudeness of the other.—J. H. N.]


Christmas Eve, 1835.
As to my drawing in my horns in the 'Arians,' I have already told yourself, I think, that I must, i.e. as far as my theory goes; for I have already said that in fact the Fathers did not deduce from Scripture, and the whole passage in the 'Disciplina' is founded on the hypothesis of Apostolical tradition co-ordinate with Scripture.

Get a pamphlet written by the Rev. Edward Stanley of Cheshire or Lancashire. [N.B.—Afterwards Bishop of Norwich.] I have not seen it, but am told it will amuse you. It is written to prove the propriety of coalescing with the Roman Catholics—O'Connell, of course—and it alleges the similarity of their Church and ours on the authority of the Oxford Tracts, &c. See what a face Rogers is making.

As to our being out of joint here—no! Golius [the Rev. C. Portales Golightly—J. H. N.] would not goliare or [golizein], i.e. be golius, unless he acted as he did. At present he goes about declaiming against my patronage of Clement of Alexandria [i.e. in the 'Arians' in his saying that the wise man [pseudetai]], my incaution, my strange sayings; so very unsatisfactory, such a pity, as hurting my influence, &c., which is such as to take a keystone for an excrescence, and insist on its removal. [N.B.—The best instance of this was my dear Pusey's suggestion from his brother Philip, in 1841, that I should remove the last sentences of No. 90 as giving offence, whereas it was the very plea on which, and on which only, the tract was justifiable.]

As to the Theological, we only dread its working too rapidly. I hope it may fall off in numbers next term. Pusey talks of having the meetings weekly, with the hope of reducing the party. No, no; we are doing well. {133}


December 30, 1835.
I am very glad to think that you have fairly beaten me out of my impression as concerning Hursley. Of course, I do not quite go along with you when you speak of my singular ingenuity in discovering covert meanings which were never thought of, and allusions wholly unintended.

Mr. Norris told me the other day that he had sent you a message by Copeland, inviting you to stay with him when you come up; so you see his suspicions of the Oriel school must be subsiding.


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1. On July 21, 1835, the first stone of Littlemore Church was laid by Mrs. Newman. In a pocket-book diary kept by her is this entry:—'July, Tuesday, 21st. A gratifying day. I laid the first stone of the church at Littlemore. The whole village there. The Hackers, Thompsons, Keble, Eden, Copeland. J. H. a nice address. Prayers, Creed, and Old Hundredth Psalm.' Mr. Newman's address to the parishioners on this occasion will be found in the Appendix.
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2. A candidate for confirmation recalled, forty years after, her vivid recollection of these examinations.
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3. See Appendix.
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4. The correspondence of this time contains protests from all Mr. Newman's allies against giving up the tracts.
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5. See Reminiscences of Oriel, vol. ii. p. 121.
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6. Vol. i. p. 214.
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7. Then editor of the British Critic.
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Newman Reader — Works of John Henry Newman
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