HENRY HART MILMAN, D.D. 
 

HENRY HART MILMAN.D.D, 
 
 DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S 
 A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 BY HIS SON 
 
 ARTHUR MILMAN, M.A, LL.D. 
 
 WITH PORTRAITS 
 
 LONDON 
 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLK STREET 
 
 1900 
 
(TO THE MEMORY 
 OF 
 
 MY FATHER AND MOTHER 
 
 THIS IMPERFECT RECORD 
 
 IS 
 DEDICATED 
 
 247826 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION i 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Parentage The Milmans and Harts School and College- 
 Eton and Oxford 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Fazio Its Success upon the Stage Miss Fanny Kemble and 
 Madame Ristori " Samor " Correspondence with Sir 
 John Coleridge Letter from Paris, 1815 . . . -33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Enters into Holy Orders First Curacy Nominated to the 
 Vicarage of St. Mary's, Reading Poetical Works Fall 
 of Jerusalem Martyr of Antioch Belshazzar Pro- 
 fessorship of Poetry at Oxford Tour in Italy Marriage . 5 1 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Quarterly Review Appreciation of Gilford Letter to 
 Coleridge on Editorship A Frequent Contributor "History 
 of the Jews "Outcry against Thirty Years after Edition 
 of Gibbon 75 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Letters from Oxford Dropmore Bampton Lecturer Com- 
 memoration, 1827 Catholic Relief Bill The Oxford Election 
 Peel rejected Dinner at Mr. John Murray's Letters 
 from Mrs. Hemans and Mrs. Opie Rector of St. Margaret's 
 and Prebendary of Westminster 103 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Leaves Reading Ashburnham House Parish of St. Margaret's 
 "History of Christianity" Edition of Horace West- 
 minster School 133 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Correspondence with Mrs. Austin Letter from Mr. Everett 
 Overworked Domestic Sorrow Nominated to the Deanery 
 of St. Paul's Congratulations 148 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Letters to Mr. George Ticknor and Mr. Prescott Death of Mr. 
 Prescott Lord Macaulay's Funeral Further Correspond- 
 ence with Mrs. Austin Letter to Archbishop Sumner 
 on Froude's Candidature for Chicheley Professorship 
 of Modern History Lord Derby's Homer The Keble 
 Memorial Letters to Archbishop Longley . . . .173 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "History of Latin Christianity" Appreciation of by Dean 
 Stanley Mr. Froude Dean Church American Writers 
 St. Paul's Funeral of the Duke of Wellington Special 
 Evening Services Letter to the Archbishop on Revision of 
 Lectionary Views on the Decoration of the Cathedral . 223 
 
CONTENTS ix 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Publishers and Retail Booksellers Clerical Subscription Com- 
 mission Sir Joseph Napier Dean Milman's Speech and 
 Proposal Opinions of Dr. Goodwin and Lord Westbury 
 thereupon Tours Abroad Rome and the Catacombs 
 The Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau 243 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Bishop Colenso Defence Fund Religion and Science 
 Notes on Antagonism between Letters to Stanley To Sir 
 Charles Lyell Motion in Convocation for Abolition of 
 " State Services " Honorary Professor of Ancient Litera- 
 ture at Royal Academy, etc. . 267 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "Annals of St. Paul's "Characterized by Rev. William Scott 
 Extracts from Biographical Interest of Illness and 
 Death Funeral at St. Paul's Tributes of Respect and 
 Affection Monument in St. Paul's Inscription . . . 292 
 
 APPENDIX I. 
 
 Diary of a Journey from Talavera to Madrid and Bayonne by 
 Captain F. M. Milman, of the Coldstream Guards, October 
 1 6th to November 6th, 1809. As stated in the text, Captain 
 Milman was severely wounded at Talavera, and was there 
 taken prisoner in the hospital 3*3 
 
 APPENDIX II. 
 
 Letters from Captain Husson to Dr. Jenner, and from Dr. Jenner 
 to Sir Francis Milman, relating to Captain Milman's 
 release by exchange of prisoners 327 
 
LIST OF' ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 H. H. MILMAN Frontispiece 
 
 From a Water-colour Drawing by F. CRUICKSHANK, 1839. 
 
 MRS. MILMAN To face p. 70 
 
 From a Sketch by LADY EASTLAKE. 
 
 H. H. MILMAN AS DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S . . . To face p. 222 
 
 From a Picture by G. F. WATTS, R.A. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THERE is probably no question so difficult and 
 delicate to decide as the time that is most 
 appropriate for the publication of any biography 
 or memorial of one who has occupied a position 
 of eminence and authority, whether in the world 
 of action or of letters. If, on the one hand, it be 
 held back until the generation that would have 
 been most attracted by the personal history of its 
 subject has disappeared, there is more than a risk 
 that much of the interest which might otherwise 
 have attached to it may be lost. If, on the other 
 hand, as is the prevailing custom, a "Life" is to 
 follow swift upon death, some instinctive faculty, 
 by no means universal with biographers, would 
 seem to be required, enabling them to distinguish 
 what is really worthy of preservation from mere 
 ephemeral details, to discriminate between mere 
 transitory popularity and that which is likely to 
 be considered of value by the more sober verdict 
 of posterity. 
 
 To those who may think that these reminiscences 
 of my father's life should have been published long 
 ago, if published at all, I have no answer to make. 
 
 1 i 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 I can only confess and avoid. All my father's 
 friends, all those who would, I believe, have valued 
 any memories, however slight, of his early days, 
 have indeed passed away, and they can now but 
 appeal to, with very rare exceptions, a world of 
 strangers. Even so, however, I have been advised 
 that it would be a pity to lose them, were it only 
 for the sake of the allusions to Eton and Oxford 
 in the early years of the now expiring century, 
 and of the illustration which they offer of the 
 marked change which within my father's lifetime 
 came over opinion, especially upon views of the 
 proper methods of dealing with religious history. 
 
 Rough and insufficient as I know the sketch to 
 be, little more than an outline, I trust, or rather 
 hope, that, with those who can read between the 
 lines, it may revive the memory of a character of 
 singular simplicity and sincerity, of one who, with 
 many friends, had few enemies even those who 
 differed most from him in opinion admired his 
 straightforward honesty, admitted his personal at- 
 traction of a man whose one aim and object was 
 to follow after truth through good report and evil, 
 if haply he might find it. I may not say more : 
 I cannot say less. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 Parentage The Milmans and Harts School and College Eton 
 and Oxford. 
 
 IT is not necessary, as an introduction to the 
 following slight sketch of the life of Dean 
 Milman, to trace back his ancestry for several 
 generations. Pedigrees long drawn out are apt to 
 be tiresome, and it will probably be amply sufficient 
 to indicate as concisely as possible the kind of 
 people from whom he was descended, with such 
 few illustrations as may seem to have something 
 more than a mere family interest. His father, 
 Francis Milman, physician to George III., was a 
 man of refinement and cultivation, eminent in his 
 profession, and much in the confidence of the Royal 
 Family, especially of Queen Charlotte, who is said 
 to have been indebted to him, not only professionally, 
 but as her adviser in many private and delicate 
 communications with the King. For these services 
 a baronetcy was conferred upon him, the patent of 
 creation being, it is stated, the last that was issued 
 in the last year of the last century. Sir Francis 
 was President of the Royal College of Physicians 
 1811-13. He came of an old Devonshire stock, 
 
 3 
 
4 ANCESTORS [CHAP. 
 
 his immediate ancestors being scholars and country 
 clergymen, content to live their quiet life, to 
 discharge the uneventful duties of their station, in 
 that picturesque fringe of broken ground which 
 lies between Dartmoor and the Channel, and has 
 given birth to so many naval worthies, forgotten 
 some for want of a sacred poet, while of others the 
 names will never perish. 
 
 Sir Francis' father and grandfather were both 
 also named Francis. The father was rector of 
 East Ogwell and vicar of Abbots Kerswell. He 
 married Sarah, eldest daughter of Richard Dyer. 
 The Dyers had been squires of Levaton in Wood- 
 land, near Ashburton, for three centuries ; but they 
 were then to end, for Sarah's only brother John 
 died, and it was her son who inherited the modest 
 estate. The grandfather, the first Francis, was 
 rector of Marldon and vicar of Paignton, and mar- 
 ried Joan Prideaux. His father, Thomas Milman, 
 of South Brent, had married another Prideaux 
 Agnes. The Prideaux are one of the oldest 
 families in Devonshire. The church of Modbury 
 contains the tomb of Sir John Prideaux, who died 
 in 1406. The race is still extant, and is at 
 present represented by Charles Prideaux- Brune, 
 of Prideaux House, near Padstow, in the adjoining 
 county of Cornwall. There was, it may be men- 
 tioned, a Devonshire scholarship at Exeter College, 
 Oxford, which has been held by seven Milmans, 
 the first being Sir Francis' grandfather ; the last 
 being Robert Milman, his grandson, and Dean 
 
i.] THE HARTS 5 
 
 Milman's nephew, who afterwards became Bishop 
 of Calcutta. 
 
 The Dean's mother was Frances, daughter and 
 eventually heiress of William Hart, merchant and 
 linen manufacturer of Bristol, whose country seat 
 was at Stapleton, in Gloucestershire. By a strange 
 coincidence, she, who was descended from Sir 
 Richard Braye, the physician and faithful adherent 
 who ministered to and consoled the imbecile King 
 Henry VI., married the physician who was to 
 attend that other king of England who lost his 
 reason, George III., and to win the confidence of 
 the royal patient and of his devoted Queen. It 
 will not be without interest briefly to indicate 
 how this came about. 
 
 The Harts first rose to consideration as London 
 merchants, and John Hart, who died comparatively 
 young in 1507, married Elizabeth, the heiress of 
 the De Peches(De Peccato, corrupted into Peachey), 
 a Norman family who came over at the Conquest, 
 and who purchased Lullingston, in Kent, in 1360. 
 The ruins of the De PecheV feudal stronghold are 
 now known as Shoreham Castle, and the present 
 owner of the modern mansion in Lullingston Park, 
 Sir William Hart Dyke, Bart., is the eldest repre- 
 sentative of the ancient stock. Sir Percival, the 
 son of John Hart and Elizabeth Peachey, was as 
 successful at Court as in commerce, for he obtained 
 and retained the office of Chief Sewer and Knight 
 Harbinger under four sovereigns Jienry VIII., 
 Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth. This solid 
 
6 SIR PERCIVAL HART [CHAP. 
 
 citizen and accomplished courtier had his town 
 house and garden at the south-east corner of 
 Tower Street, looking over the fatal hill, the 
 fortress, and the shipping beyond. The space 
 between Tower Street and Thames Street was 
 not then built over. In the city he served in the 
 office of sheriff, attended to the manifold calls of 
 business, and then, passing to the Court, discharged, 
 through four reigns, full of changes in Church and 
 State, his various duties of precaution and parade 
 without exciting any fatal enmity when enmities 
 were so rife. His wife was daughter of the first 
 Lord Braye, grandson of Sir Richard Braye. Lord 
 Braye was also nephew and heir of Sir Reginald 
 Braye, eldest son of the physician of Henry VI. 
 
 A grandson of the Knight Harbinger and 
 Frideswide Braye, George Hart, settled at Bristol, 
 where a branch of the family was already estab- 
 lished (John Hart was mayor of Bristol in 1599), 
 and engaged in the linen industry when Somerset- 
 shire was becoming the manufacturing district of 
 England. He married a daughter of the mayor, 
 whose son, Sir George Knight, was notorious in 
 Bristol history as the persecutor of the Quakers. 
 George Hart's enterprise and that of his children 
 were crowned with success, and the thriving weavers 
 established their country home first at Bitton and 
 afterwards at Stapleton. For three generations they 
 served in the highest municipal offices. George's 
 son, Sir Richard, represented Bristol in four parlia- 
 ments; but his son William, when he offered himself 
 
i.] BROTHERS AND SISTER 7 
 
 to the electors in 1721, was rejected on account of 
 his Jacobite sympathies. Of the children of his 
 son, a second William, all except Frances died 
 without leaving issue. But their near relations 
 managed the mills at Chard until the end of the 
 last century, when steam superseded water-power. 
 Then manufactures migrated to Lancashire, and 
 ruined mills on the banks of the Somersetshire 
 streams are the last monuments of a vanished 
 industry. % 
 
 Of the marriage of Francis Milman and Frances 
 Hart, which took place on July 2Oth, 1779, there 
 was issue seven children ; but of these three died 
 in infancy, and were buried in the Milman chapel 
 or chantry in old Chelsea Church.| The four who 
 survived were William George, afterwards the 
 second baronet, born 1781; Francis Miles, born 
 1783 ; Frances Emily, born 1787; and Henry Hart, 
 born 1791. My father's eldest brother, William, 
 and his sister Emily were both accomplished artists, 
 
 * These and other memoranda relating to the family history 
 have been collected and arranged by my brother, Archibald 
 Milman, C.B. 
 
 t This chapel, on the south side of the church, was built by Sir 
 Thomas More, and is properly called his chapel. It continued in 
 possession of the proprietary of his house till Sir A. Gorges sold 
 that to the Earl of Middlesex, reserving the chapel, as he continued 
 to reside in another fine house that he had built for himself in the 
 parish. Sir A. Gorges' house, and with it the property in the 
 chapel, subsequently passed through various hands, and was 
 occupied and owned at one time by Sir William Milman, Knight, 
 who built the houses in Milman Street, Chelsea, and died, s.p. t 
 1713. My grandfather, Sir Francis, bought the chapel for the 
 sake of the family association, and in it several members of the 
 family are buried. See Faulkner's " Description of Chelsea," pp. 93 
 and 100. 
 
8 FRANCIS MILES MILMAN [CHAP. 
 
 devoting themselves especially to architectural sub- 
 jects in water-colours. Sir Frederick Burton, than 
 whom there can be no better authority, coming on 
 one occasion into a room hung with their pictures, 
 enquired who had painted those interiors of churches, 
 adding that he thought he could identify the work 
 of every known water-colour painter in England, 
 but that he did not recognise this hand. On being 
 told that they were the work of amateurs, he said, 
 "Oh no! there is too much knowledge and surety 
 of hand for those to be the work of dilettanti ; 
 they are professional." On being assured that they 
 were executed by members of the family, he said 
 that they must have had a great appreciation of 
 architecture, and have given much time to their 
 art. For his sister Emily my father had a deep 
 attachment. She was the friend and confidante of 
 all his earlier years, the one at home to whom, 
 as will be seen, his letters from school and college 
 were chiefly addressed, with whom his plans for 
 the future were discussed, opinions on books and 
 events, on the passing topics of the hour, were 
 freely interchanged. She died on July 26th, 1835. 
 
 My father's second brother, Francis Miles, chose 
 the life of a soldier, obtaining his first commission 
 as an ensign in the Coldstream Guards in 1800, 
 when he was but seventeen years of age ; in 1804 
 he became lieutenant and captain. In the Peninsular 
 War he served in 1808 as aide-de-camp to Major- 
 General Catlin Craufurd, was present at the battles 
 of Roriga and Vimiero, the retreat to Corunna, the 
 
i.] WOUNDED AT TALAVERA 9 
 
 action on the heights of Lugo, and the battle of 
 Corunna. He was with his regiment, the Cold- 
 stream Guards, at the passage of the Douro, the 
 capture of Oporto, and at the battle of Talavera, 
 where he was very severely wounded, and was only 
 saved from being burnt on the field by the gallantry 
 of a private in the Guards. He was taken prisoner 
 in the hospital of Talavera, where, with others of 
 his wounded comrades, he was detained for nearly 
 three months. Thence, passing through Madrid, 
 he was carried into France. The experiences of 
 a young English officer, while a prisoner in Spain 
 under these circumstances, as simply narrated in 
 a letter home, and in a short diary,* when every 
 impression was vividly recent, seem worth pre- 
 serving, with some necessary compression. To 
 his eldest brother he writes from Bordeaux on 
 November i4th as follows : 
 
 MY DEAR WILLIAM, 
 
 I take the opportunity of a gentleman's 
 promise at this place to remit a letter to England. 
 After travelling above five hundred miles in Spain, 
 we arrived at Bayonne on November 7th. The 
 expense we have been put to on the road has 
 been shameful : excepting that from Valladolid to 
 Burgos, we had a coach provided for us, through 
 the kindness of General Kellermann. The French 
 Government allow me three francs (2^. 6d.) a day, 
 but they did not allow any arrears for the three 
 months we were prisoners in Spain. Had we not 
 luckily had a little money by us, we should have 
 been obliged to have lived upon a pound of black 
 
 * The diary is printed as an appendix at the end of the volume. 
 
10 A PRISONER IN SPAIN [CHAP, 
 
 bread and a quarter of a pound of meat, which 
 was not always good, throughout the whole journey. 
 At Madrid we were confined three days close 
 prisoners at the Retire, without being allowed to 
 go beyond the sentries who were posted in our 
 rooms : during that time we received nothing but 
 our rations of mouldy bread, and a stinking goat 
 for meat, which the man who brought it was so 
 ashamed of that he told us himself he had brought 
 us some carrion. We were generally marched 
 from seven to eight leagues every day, halting at 
 the great places for one day. This town is one 
 of the finest in France, and we propose staying a 
 day or two longer, as the inhabitants are civil to 
 us and ask us to dinner. Our route will lie through 
 Angouleme, Poitiers, Orleans, Sens, Troyes, and 
 Ch&lons, to Verdun the distance, between five 
 and six hundred English miles. We came from 
 Bayonne post in a cabriolet, which was cheaper to 
 me than the diligence, as I have a servant, whose 
 place would have cost as much as my own. I shall 
 expect you to take the first opportunity to write to 
 me, but you must take particular care not to hint 
 at anything political, as the letter will not come to 
 hand if you do. I should tell you that I am travelling 
 with Major Fothringham of the 3rd Guards, who 
 was wounded in the head we came all the way 
 together from Talavera besides three others, 
 Major Popham, Ensign Scott, 3rd Guards, and 
 Surgeon Egan. We all arrived at Bayonne without 
 a farthing. A merchant then gave us money for 
 our bills. The exchange between the countries 
 is immense : for ^50 they gave us about ^38, 
 which makes a deduction of one-quarter. At 
 Talavera we have given five shillings for a loaf of 
 bread, and sometimes we had no meat for three 
 days, at a time that we were confined to our beds 
 and required delicate nourishment. Half a pound 
 
i.] ON PAROLE IN FRANCE II 
 
 of tea * was sent us by Colonel Bathurst, to whom 
 I shall ever be thankful : it was of more conse- 
 quence than ; 1,000 at the time. At Bayonne we 
 had a magnificent dinner given us by the French 
 officers who came with our escort. We drank the 
 health of the Emperor and King George, and to a 
 peace between the two countries. General Keller- 
 mann put us upon our parole and asked us to dinner 
 at Valladolid. You have no idea what a good man 
 he is, and how extremely attentive he is to all the 
 English who pass through. I remember him in 
 Portugal. Another general who was in Portugal 
 Thiebault commanded at Burgos. 
 
 For some time after his arrival in France my uncle 
 entertained hopes of a speedy return by means of an 
 exchange to England ; but these soon vanished, and 
 many weary months of internment as a prisoner on 
 parole, at Paris, at Valenciennes, and at Verdun, were 
 before him. More than one attempt was made to 
 obtain his release, but Napoleon refused to exchange 
 prisoners ; and hopes of success had been almost 
 abandoned, when it occurred to Sir Francis Milman 
 to make one last attempt through his friend Dr. 
 Jenner, of whom it was reported that Napoleon had 
 spoken as un ami du genre humain, and who had 
 intimate relations with some of the leading members 
 of his profession in Paris. There is good ground 
 for believing that this intervention would have been 
 
 * Colonel Bathurst writes to Captain Boothby: " I have got a 
 small quantity of tea, which I send to such as I know at Talavera. 
 I am sorry it is not more : I have only two pounds. I wish you would 
 divide one with Stanhope of the 2gth, and the other between Major 
 Popham, 24th, and Milman of the Guards." See "A Prisoner of 
 France," Boothby, p. 100. 
 
12 HENRY HART MILMAN [CHAP. 
 
 effected, and that an arrangement for the exchange 
 of Captain Milman with a Captain Husson would 
 have been sanctioned by the French Government ; 
 but it, in fact, became unnecessary, as the first restora- 
 tion of Louis XVIII. had in the meantime occurred, 
 when my uncle returned with the other prisoners 
 and detenus to England.* After his return to 
 England at the peace, Captain and Lieut. -Colonel 
 Milman's promotion followed the usual course. In 
 1837 he became Lieut. -Colonel of the Coldstream 
 Guards, and went on half-pay in the same year. 
 He was Major-General 1841, was appointed Colonel 
 of the 82nd Regiment 1850, Lieut.-General 1851, 
 and he died 1856. 
 
 Henry Hart Milman, the youngest son, was 
 born at 47, Lower Brook Street, in the parish of 
 St. James's, Westminster, on February loth, 1791. 
 His first school education there is no record of 
 earlier incidents was obtained at an establishment 
 of high reputation in those days, kept by Dr. 
 Charles Burney, at Greenwich. Burney was a 
 considerable scholar, not unworthy to be compared 
 with Porson and Elmsley. 
 
 The death of poor Burney [writes Elmsley to 
 Dr. S. Butler, January ist, 1818] must have 
 surprised you. I rate him higher as a scholar 
 than some of my friends do. He was the 
 Copernicus of our art ; very inferior indeed to 
 
 * See Appendix II. The part taken by Dr. Jenner in negotiating 
 the exchange out of friendship to Sir Francis Milman may give an 
 interest to some letters which passed on the subject. 
 
i.] ETON IN 1802 13 
 
 Galileo Person, but still the first man who put us 
 on the right scent.* 
 
 Under the auspices of Dr. Burney was laid the 
 foundation of the scholarship and classical tastes 
 in which his young pupil afterwards became so 
 proficient. From Greenwich and the care of Dr. 
 Burney, Henry Milman, at the age of eleven, was 
 transferred to Eton, where he was admitted as a 
 King's scholar in the election of 1802. For the 
 greater part of Milman's school days Eton was 
 under the rule of Dr. Goodall, a very popular 
 master ; and it was not until his acceptance of the 
 provostship in 1809 that he was succeeded by Dr. 
 Keate, the succession, as not unfrequently happens 
 on a change of dynasty, being marked by decidedly 
 strained relations between the new master and a 
 faction among the boys, which more than once 
 broke out into actual riot. The sixth-form collegers, 
 between whom and the oppidans the feeling was 
 not always friendly, took no part in these disturb- 
 ances, but on the contrary were disposed to uphold 
 Keate's authority, who in their opinion had been 
 treated somewhat unfairly, his enemies among the 
 boys being apparently of opinion that the best mode 
 of evincing their regret for Goodall was by dis- 
 respect and mutiny towards his successor. My 
 father's letters from school are full of references to 
 its disturbed condition. 
 
 You could not [he writes to his friend William 
 * " Life and Letters of Dr. Samuel Butler," i. 146. 
 
14 GOODALL AND KEATE [CHAP. 
 
 Harness *] have picked a much more unfortunate 
 time for my making a friend of Gambier. It is not 
 unlikely that we shall have a serious rumpus here ; 
 civil dudgeon is growing very high. The best part 
 of the joke is that there is no reason in the world 
 for it, excepting the genuine spirit of O.P. The 
 sixth-form collegers determined to oppose such 
 senseless folly. Accordingly, your humble servant, 
 in quality of prseposter in Harrow dialect monitor 
 seized one of the ringleaders, and carried him to 
 Keate. This has given a turn to it, and perhaps 
 is likely to breed divisions between collegers and 
 oppidans. What part Gambier takes in it I do not 
 know, but I should hope he had nothing to do with 
 a business which has neither head nor tail. Entre 
 nous, if there was as much spirit among our 
 O.P.'s as among their prototypes at Harrow, we 
 should have flat rebellion, as Jack Falstaff says. 
 But my Lord Byron per contra, the age of chivalry 
 is over : vulgarly, there is no spirit nowadays. One 
 of the assistant masters is the chief object of 
 abomination a man whom I cannot say I admire ; 
 but Keate comes in for a share, which is very hard 
 upon him, as he has certainly done nothing to 
 give offence. I believe the rioters think the more 
 noise they make the greater respect they pay to 
 Goodall. 
 
 Keate had plenty of courage, but in manner 
 was far from conciliatory. Writing to his sister 
 somewhat later, Milman says : 
 
 * William Harness, born 1790, died 1869, was educated at 
 Harrow, where he contracted a friendship with Lord Byron, and at 
 Christ's College, Cambridge. Mr. Harness is best remembered by 
 his Edition and Life of Shakespeare. In later life he was incumbent 
 of All Saints', Knightsbridge, a district church in the parish of 
 St. Margaret, of which my father was rector, at whose suggestion, 
 but largely through the personal exertions of Mr. Harness, All 
 Saints' was built. 
 
i.] SCHOOL FRIENDSHIPS 15 
 
 I am sorry to say we have had another small 
 disturbance here, in which, as before, the rioters 
 were completely in the wrong. Keate talks in a 
 very spirited manner, and I must say I think he 
 will soon be more feared than Goodall, but he will 
 never be so much beloved. He has a sharpness in 
 his manner which must prepossess most against him, 
 and sometimes, when he intends to be particularly 
 civil, he looks as if he would knock you down. 
 Moreover and this was against him he did not 
 wear a wig. 
 
 My father always looked back what old Etonian 
 does not ? with pleasure to the years of his school 
 life, and some few reminiscences of them may still 
 be gleaned from letters to his sister and to Harness, 
 who were the chief recipients of his confidence. 
 It is not always possible to assign a positive date 
 to these letters, the postal stamps being often 
 obliterated ; but they give the impression of a boy 
 full of animation and high spirits, with the keenest 
 enjoyment of school life and its surroundings, and 
 combining with this an ardent addiction to the more 
 serious duties of the place, an inexhaustible interest 
 in literature, and a desire for scholarly attainments. 
 With his sister he discusses new books and poems ; 
 with Harness, all sorts of schemes and subjects for 
 poems of their own composition. 
 
 Of earlier friendships none was more intimate 
 than that which my father formed with John Taylor 
 Coleridge afterwards Sir John Coleridge, for many 
 years a judge in the Queen's Bench and a Privy 
 Councillor a friendship which endured to the end, 
 
1 6 JOHN TAYLOR COLERIDGE [CHAP. 
 
 though divergent paths in life, and perhaps divergent 
 opinions, may in later years have caused some inter- 
 ruption of intercourse. Coleridge was by a year or 
 two my father's senior, a difference which goes for 
 much in school days ; so Coleridge, it may be 
 inferred, became Milman's confidant and adviser, 
 to whose judgment many a youthful poem was 
 submitted. 
 
 As your dear father [Sir John Coleridge wrote 
 to me] committed his lectures delivered as Pro- 
 fessor of Poetry at Oxford to the flames, it is 
 probable he did not preserve these early productions 
 of his boyhood ; yet of his felicity and copiousness 
 and fancy they surely bear undeniable witness. 
 
 My father certainly did not preserve them, but 
 Sir John Coleridge was a less reckless destroyer, 
 and was so good as to send me after my father's 
 death several MS. volumes of his poems in English, 
 in Latin, and in Greek. Of these, two may 
 perhaps be named, and only named : one, some 
 lines on the death of a schoolfellow and friend, 
 L. Shawe, who was drowned at Eton on May i5th, 
 1807 a genuine expression of feeling; and the 
 other a longer poem, " Isabel d'Autin," thus referred 
 to by Sir John Coleridge : 
 
 It was addressed to his sister. Scott had set the 
 example of such introductions in " Marmion." I 
 mention this now for another reason. Your father 
 and Duckenfield (our contemporary) had each a 
 sister at home older than themselves. I had one 
 sister, much my junior, at that time rather my pet 
 
L] LIFE IN LONG CHAMBER 17 
 
 than my adviser or helper. The happiness these 
 had in their sisters is so deeply impressed on my 
 mind as always to have remained, and has led me 
 often to urge on my granddaughters how much use 
 and comfort they might be to their brothers at 
 school. In our days there were real hardships in 
 college at Eton ; and, besides these, there are 
 always little difficulties and scrapes at school. I 
 saw, as to these, how your father and D. seemed to 
 lean on their sisters, and what natural advisers and 
 helpers and intercessors they were. 
 
 Some lines, with the date of March, 1809, a ^- 
 dressed to J. T. Coleridge on his leaving Eton, 
 may also just be mentioned, as illustrating the 
 friendship and admiration with which the older was 
 regarded by the younger boy. 
 
 Life in the Long Chamber nearly a century ago 
 was no doubt a pretty rough one, but amusements 
 to enliven it were not wanting : 
 
 We have established in college but at present we 
 keep it entirely to ourselves, and it would be better 
 if it were not made too public a small theatre ; 
 and I assure you we make no despicable figure in 
 broad farce, having attempted nothing beyond the 
 Heir-at-Law and a few farces as yet. We are 
 getting up the Poor Gentleman with all possible 
 expedition ; and as we have no very flaming critics, 
 we expect to come off with grand e"clat. 
 
 And somewhat later on : 
 
 Our theatricals are rather at a btop, owing to our 
 Provost being resident, who unfortunately in his 
 house can hear everything done in Long Chamber ; 
 and though he laughed at one of us the other day 
 
1 8 THEATRICALS AND PRIZES [CHAP. 
 
 whom he overheard rehearsing to his great amuse- 
 ment, yet he certainly would stop us before long if 
 we din in his ears and disturb his midnight couch 
 with our unlawful thunders. We acted Tom Thumb 
 the other day, and a most ludicrous piece of work it 
 was. I [a future Dean of St. Paul's], being of an 
 elegant height and shape, represented the Queen of 
 the Giants, and with wooden-soled shoes of about 
 four inches, a kind of cap about one yard high, 
 managed to cut a pretty Brobdingnagian appearance. 
 We certainly amused ourselves and other people to 
 no small degree. 
 
 But time slipped away, and Milman began to 
 be anxious about his future plans. As a colleger 
 at Eton, he might reasonably look forward to a 
 fellowship at King's College, Cambridge ; but the 
 elections were by seniority, and unless a vacancy 
 or vacancies occurred in the year when his name 
 stood first on the list of Eton King's scholars it 
 would be removed, and the nomination would be 
 lost. Writing to his sister, March 3Oth, 1810, 
 he says : 
 
 I have got a prize and a cough : what business 
 they have together I do not know. The prize 
 is ^5, I suppose to be received in books left by 
 the late Provost for declamation. There is also 
 a ten-pounder for Easter task, but the will is so 
 worded that it is a point of law whether the same 
 person may get both ; I believe they wish it to 
 be decided that he may. I have just heard a 
 curious fact which was told Lloyd by the man 
 himself. Plumptre, a King's man, who resigned last 
 year, intended certainly to have kept his resignation 
 for this year; but Goodall, knowing he was going 
 
i.] CHOICE OF UNIVERSITY AND COLLEGE 19 
 
 to be married, without his authority promised it 
 [the fellowship] to Pole, who was the last who 
 went off last year. Plumptre, finding that on the 
 strength of this promise Pole had given up till 
 too late every endeavour to procure himself a re- 
 signation, sent in his resignation to the Provost 
 of King's, but worded in such a manner as to let 
 him know that it was not voluntary. So that if I 
 lose King's by one, Goodall is undoubtedly the 
 cause of it. 
 
 And to Harness previously on the 2ist : 
 
 I am sorry to say that I have scarce any chance 
 of coming to King's, or indeed to Cambridge at 
 all. I myself should for many reasons prefer 
 Oxford, though I have some friends at the former 
 place whose society I have reckoned on for some 
 time. My father talks of Oriel for me, which is 
 certainly one of the first colleges. 
 
 Ultimately it was decided that he should be 
 entered at Brasenose, and at that college he 
 matriculated on May loth, 1810. Writing to his 
 sister from Eton some days later, he says : 
 
 I have been to Oxford, and have read the " Lady 
 of the Lake." Which shall I begin with ? Oxford 
 is the most beautiful place I ever saw ; the " Lady of 
 the Lake" one of the most beautiful poems. My 
 own college you may know by its wearing on its 
 gate the insignia of a Brazen Nose. When I get 
 to Oxford, I shall busy myself to enquire who it 
 belonged to : perhaps to Brazen Mask. Sterne, in 
 his chapter on Noses, does not mention it; but I 
 suppose it is held an insult on the whole college 
 should any impertinent fellow pull our nose. Be 
 that as it may, I hope to be very comfortable at 
 
20 CHANCELLORSHIP OF OXFORD [CHAP. 
 
 the college. And now I am to make a proposition 
 to you. Prepare all your powers of eloquence ; if 
 that avails nothing at " heart-rending woe," pull out 
 your white pocket-handkerchief; and all this, I don't 
 doubt, will persuade my father to carry you to 
 Oxford to the Installation, and I suppose I shall 
 not be left behind. It lasts four days is to be 
 the finest sight that ever was. Poets are tuning 
 their lyres, college kitchens putting their saucepans 
 in order, heads of houses powdering their best wigs. 
 At Brazen Nose for in the election of a Chancellor 
 the whole of the University followed our nose it 
 is to be grand beyond my powers of description. 
 The whole college to dine on plate. New chairs 
 of dimensions far exceeding any yet heard of are 
 prepared. I hear of many famous people who are 
 to write congratulatory pretty things which the 
 Chancellor (God bless his patience) is to listen to. 
 Delegates will be appointed from each college. At 
 Brasenose the men are chosen : a nobleman, a man 
 of property, and a clever man the latter is Johnson, 
 the John the Baptist man. Many people write and 
 send odes for others to recite. Southey writes for 
 Balliol, Bowles for Trinity. I believe my friend 
 Coleridge will be chosen for Corpus. Will not all 
 this do ? Balls, concerts every night. All the world 
 will be there, and Mrs. All the World into the 
 bargain. It is about the gth of July. If my 
 father should like it, let me know, and I will 
 employ somebody to get apartments. 
 
 The Installation referred to was that of Lord 
 Grenville, who had been elected Chancellor on 
 December i4th, 1809, after a close contest, the 
 other candidates being Lord Eldon and the Duke 
 of Beaufort. The Installation, a brilliant affair, is 
 described in letters to his sister and Harness. 
 
i.] INSTALLATION OF LORD GRENVILLE 21 
 
 Writing to the latter from Eton on July nth, 
 he says : 
 
 I am just returned from the Oxford Installation, 
 a sufficient excuse, I hope, for your letter remaining 
 unanswered so long. It certainly was one of the 
 most magnificent spectacles ever seen. The day 
 was entirely occupied with recitations, music, and 
 balls, not to omit the addition of the balloon. You 
 cannot conceive my envy of the people seated in 
 the car. One man offered three hundred guineas for 
 a flight, which was refused. The complimentary 
 verses, as one might expect, were too full of Muses 
 and Apollo and classic shades to be very interesting, 
 though there were occasionally some extremely 
 beautiful lines. There were some lines of Southey's 
 of course nothing could be more obnoxious to 
 true academical grizzle- wigs, who have grown old 
 on the same round of Homer and Horace ; but 
 what ruined them in the opinion of men of more 
 liberal ideas was a most execrable recitation by 
 a man who united the drone of a pair of bagpipes 
 with the true tabernacle whine. I wished for some 
 method of conveying my dislike of the reciter and 
 approbation of the poetry ; but as that was im- 
 practicable, I kept the medium of holding my tongue. 
 One man had at least ten lines to commemorate 
 my Lady Grenville's beauty, accomplishments, and 
 taste for mineralogy, not forgetting her pretty house 
 and grounds in some heathen country whose name I 
 have forgot. My friend Coleridge got the prize for 
 Latin verse upon the Dying Gladiator. I hope you 
 have met with it ; the lines are excellent. . . . We 
 had a most glorious disturbance about old Sheridan. 
 It was quite shocking that the author of the School 
 for Scandal, and one of the first political characters 
 of the kingdom, should be denied a Doctor's gown 
 merely because he likes to keep the colour in his 
 
22 BRILLIANT UNIVERSITY CAREER [CHAP. 
 
 face by a plentiful infusion of port. By-the-bye, to 
 show them how little he regarded it, he got dead 
 drunk, and was carried out a corpse from some 
 college party. 
 
 Milman went into residence at Brasenose at the 
 commencement of the October term, 1810 : 
 
 Here I am safe lodged at No. 3, surrounded with 
 books, and no shelves put up yet ; in short, in a 
 most delightful chaos of literature, the wind whistling 
 the prettiest concert imaginable, and I illustrating 
 Mr. Southey's "Tis pleasant by the cheerful hearth 
 to hear of tempests," etc. 
 
 But [a few days later] what I am to learn here 
 rather puzzles me at present ; for of our three tutors 
 one can lecture and never does, another cannot and 
 always does, the third neither can nor does. I 
 have all my books about me, and am as comfortable 
 as a man can be who has to make acquaintances. I 
 intend to read at least a quarter of a mile every day. 
 
 My father's career at Oxford was a brilliant one, 
 and seldom have so many prizes been accumulated 
 in the same hands. He won the Newdigate in 
 1812, the Chancellor's Prize for Latin Verse in 1813, 
 the English and Latin Essays in 1816; having in 
 the meantime obtained a first class in Classics (1813), 
 and in 1815 having been elected a fellow of his 
 college. In addition to all these prizes, the 
 Chancellor of the University, Lord Grenville, sent 
 him a present of books, accompanied by a letter 
 congratulating him upon his repeated success, and 
 auguring a brilliant, useful future for a course so 
 well begun. 
 
i.] PRIZE POEMS 23 
 
 It is the fashion [says Christopher North in one 
 of the (t Noctes"] to undervalue Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge Prize Poems, but it is a stupid fashion. 
 Many of them are most beautiful. Heber's " Pales- 
 tine," a flight as upon angels' wings over the Holy 
 Land. Tickler ; more than one of Brougham's 
 prize poems are excellent ; . . . and Milman's 
 " Apollo Belvidere" splendid, beautiful, and majestic. 
 
 Lord Tennyson, speaking of Prize Poems, says 
 that they, not even Milmaris, should be regarded 
 as poems ; and if an Ingoldsby Legend may be 
 quoted in such august company 
 
 His lines on Apollo 
 Beat all the rest hollow, 
 
 And gain'd him the Newdigate Prize. 
 
 On the subject of this prize poem he writes to his 
 sister : 
 
 You must know that the honours of my poor 
 11 Apollo" are not yet exhausted. I found here a 
 billet-doux full of verses from a lady (postmark 
 Bristol) and the verses were very good verses too, 
 of course all about my having Apollo's shell, 
 etc., etc. N.B. John Townshend swears it is an 
 old woman's hand. What is more important, the 
 poem sold so well that Parker, the bookseller, sent 
 me a beautiful set of books Todd's " Milton " 
 for my copyright. 
 
 The prize poem had, as usual, to be recited in the 
 Theatre at Commemoration, at which 
 
 Among our other distinguished visitors, we had 
 Prince Koslowski (Taimable rout, as he is repre- 
 sented in St. James's Street). He and I are very 
 great friends, and a most extremely clever fellow he 
 is. He is a most excellent classical scholar, 
 
24 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD [CHAP. 
 
 and knows more of English literature than half 
 the literary characters in England. Old Warren 
 Hastings had an honorary degree also, which got 
 the men's hands into clapping famously before I 
 made my dtbiit. There was one character present 
 whom I regret very much not having distinguished 
 Hannah More. I rather wonder the name of 
 Theatre did not alarm the good lady. 
 
 A few miscellaneous extracts from his correspond- 
 ence while an undergraduate may be interesting as 
 dim reminiscences of Oxford in the early years of 
 the century. Thus in a letter to his sister of May, 
 1812, while anxiously awaiting for the decision on 
 the prizes to be declared : 
 
 As for myself [riots in Nottingham and elsewhere 
 were prevalent, and the country had been startled 
 by news of the assassination of Mr. Perceval], I think 
 we shall be murdered before they [the prizes] are 
 settled ; or perhaps it might be rather against me 
 with his majesty the Mob, and, like Jack Cade's 
 friend the Clerk of Chatham, they might hang me 
 with my inkhorn round my neck for not having a 
 mark (X) to myself like a plain-dealing man, and 
 being guilty of the heinous offence of being able to 
 write, not plain prose, but heathenish rhyme. We 
 have lost our character as a nation, and I shall begin 
 to, look out for a passage to the Brazils or Mr. 
 Wilson's Isle of the Palms. Will you go with 
 me ? I hope the account of the bonfires, ringing of 
 bells, and drum-beating at Nottingham is at least 
 exaggerated. It is an undoubted fact that there 
 were hisses in the gallery at the Lyceum directly 
 the news was heard. What do you think of the 
 feeling of our tutors ? One of them sagely observed 
 that "he supposed it would produce a change in the 
 
i.] WORDSWORTH THE POET 25 
 
 administration." Another said, " What a sad acci- 
 dent f " We are pretty quiet here as yet ; but they 
 have begun at Cambridge with this unaccountable 
 business at Sidney College.* I received a letter 
 from Dampier the other day, which said that the 
 Bow Street officers they had had down about it say 
 they never saw so many schools in a town in their 
 lives, and they would recommend the Sidney boys to 
 search their boxes to see if they have lost anything. 
 
 Probably about the same time, but only an 
 undated fragment of the letter has survived, he 
 describes a meeting with Wordsworth : 
 
 Who do you think I supped in company with the 
 other night ? No less a person than Wordsworth 
 the poet. He is Cookson's first cousin, and we had 
 a very delightful trio. He is an odd fish to look at, 
 but a remarkably pleasant man ; a great deal of soul 
 in his conversation, but not in the least overbearing. 
 He allowed the faults of his friends Coleridge and 
 Southey, particularly the German metaphysics of the 
 former. In one place, to be sure, he put me in 
 mind of Sir Fretful ; he had been told that the 
 Edinburgh reviewers had honoured them with 
 unqualified abuse. I asked him about Southey' s 
 going before the House of Commons. He said 
 Southey had intended simply to have pleaded Privi- 
 lege of History against Privilege of Parliament, and 
 to have written two or three plain, pithy sentences 
 of defence. f " Pelayo," he was surprised to hear, 
 was advertised ; he thought it only just begun. 
 Wordsworth was here the very day my friend 
 Coleridge passed the most splendid examination 
 ever passed since I have been at Oxford, which 
 
 * There had been a series of mysterious robberies in the college^ 
 t See " Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey," vol. iii., p. 324. 
 
26 ODD CHARACTERS [CHAP. 
 
 delighted him much. He gave me an invitation to 
 Grasmere. 
 
 And in another letter, this time to Harness : 
 
 We have an odd kind of fish just come here 
 to B. N. C., who was at Harrow, of the name of 
 Lowndes. They swore that he ate ^Eschylus and 
 Pindar between his bread-and-butter, and slept with 
 Thucydides for his bolster. I began to be mightily 
 alarmed at him. However, he does not turn out 
 such a monster. I find he eats rolls and butter 
 like a Christian, and I rather though a marvellous, 
 rough, unpolished kind of animal like him than 
 not. . . . 
 
 You are not aware, perhaps, of a new turn in my 
 character. A Methodist ical cleaner of breeches had 
 great hopes of converting me to the true faith. I 
 desired him to bring me some of his books the 
 other day, that I might examine his tenets ; and 
 when I was going to bed, I felt a strange inmate 
 in my nightcap. On examination, I found that he 
 had wrapped up three little tracts in it, and laid it 
 very quietly on my bolster. So that Sir John 
 Sinclair's definition of a nightcap is not extensive 
 enough : it not only being meant to keep the hair 
 from being tumbled, but as a covering for Christian 
 knowledge. 
 
 Some weeks of the long vacation in this year 
 (1812) were devoted to a walking tour in Scotland, 
 which is described in a series of interesting letters 
 to his sister, but over ground now so well known 
 that the letters will not bear transcription. It is 
 amusing, however, even at this early date, to find 
 a groan over the irruption of tourists at Loch 
 Katrine, which was visited towards the end of 
 
TOUR IN SCOTLAND 27 
 
 the tour, on descending from a district then com- 
 paratively unfrequented : 
 
 The worst part of visiting Loch Katrine is the 
 complete antidote to the effect of fine solitary scenery 
 caused by the seeing a collection of carriages at the 
 water's edge, and fine flaunting figures, with parasols 
 and flying trimmings, sauntering among the rocks. 
 The day I was there two chariots and one coach- 
 ful came that on a bad day, at least what ap- 
 peared a bad one in the morning. Five hundred 
 names were in the book of Callender as visitants 
 this year. How many from love of scenery ? how 
 many from fashion ? 
 
 Returning through the English Lake country, he 
 paid his respects to Southey : 
 
 Not a word about Southey yet. I am sure you 
 will think me very forbearing. I have seen him two 
 or three times. He has all the earnestness of a poet 
 entirely without affectation. 
 
 The year 1814 was made memorable in the annals 
 of Oxford by the visit of the Allied Sovereigns with 
 the Prince Regent in June. But before coming to 
 this, a letter may be quoted referring to another 
 visitor to the University, the Grand Duchess of 
 Oldenburg,* who seems to have afforded some 
 amusement : 
 
 The Duchess amused us pretty well, for a day or 
 two looking at her, and a few more talking of her. 
 She determined to see everything, was tired getting 
 up to the top of the Radcliffe Library, sat down, 
 
 * Sister of the Emperor Alexander. 
 
28 THE DUCHESS OF OLDENBURG [CHAP. 
 
 and made the two Proctors sit on each side of her. 
 Dialogue between her Highness and one of our 
 noblemen : " May I ask what your lordship's studies 
 are?" " General, madam." " But what particular 
 books do you read?" " None, madam." " Then 
 I find that I have been rightly informed that lords 
 read nothing here." Dialogue the second (the 
 Duchess and Dr. Barnes, the Sub-Dean of Christ 
 Church) : " Pray, sir, may I ask what branch of 
 literature you preside over?" " None, madam." 
 " But what are you professor of?" "I am not a 
 professor, madam." " You take the part of Theology, 
 perhaps?" " No-o, madam." " Law, perhaps?" 
 A still more puzzled " No" followed from the 
 Doctor ; and the same answer he made to all the 
 questions she put to him afterwards. Degrees 
 were subsequently conferred on Prince Gagarin 
 and General Turner, at which her Highness was 
 present. She is pretty, and very pleasing in her 
 manner, but a little too like a Calmuck in her 
 mouth. 
 
 Then follows a by no means flattering description 
 of her attendants, which it will perhaps be discreet 
 to omit. He continues : 
 
 The Emperors are to come, but there are great 
 doubts and questions about their reception whether 
 they can contrive to have the Commemoration at 
 the same time or not. I have had a hint from 
 Hodson * about complimentary verses, if any are 
 spoken, which is not certain. The way they re- 
 ceived King James was that the Vice-Chancellor, 
 Proctors, etc., rode out on horseback, with lackeys 
 and foot-cloths ; on the King's arrival they dis- 
 mounted, knelt down, and the Vice-Chancellor made 
 
 * Rev. Fordsham Hodson, Principal of Brasenose, 1809-1822. 
 
i.] ALLIED SOVEREIGNS VISIT OXFORD 29 
 
 a Latin speech. How it would make the Emperors 
 stare ! Other kings they have been in the habit of 
 receiving with logical disputations. 
 
 The visit was fixed for June I4th. All Oxford 
 was in a flutter of excitement and preparation : 
 
 I like your flattering yourself [my father writes on 
 the i ith] that I, to whom all the Emperors and Kings 
 are going to pay a visit, should have time to write 
 to you. We are all at work at preparations, the big- 
 wigs hunting out precedents, the barbers powdering 
 said big-wigs, carpenters raising platforms, cooks 
 imagining dinners, and poets writing complimentary 
 verses : among the last I rank. I wrote a copy at 
 Hodson's request, which was only much too good 
 for the occasion, as he said, and unfortunately three 
 times too long. Whether the old folk will like it or 
 not I cannot tell, but I flatter myself it is much too 
 independent for them to approve of. I suspect they 
 [the authorities] will choose nothing but gross flattery, 
 which I will not write, so that we shall not agree. 
 Another question is whether the authors are to 
 speak or the noblemen. If they choose mine, I 
 insist positively on speaking myself. Who knows 
 but the Emperor may appoint me his Poet Laureate ? 
 However, it is a vile aristocracy, as if they paid the 
 visit to Oxford as to the school of young high-born 
 cubs and to see purple and gold gowns instead of a 
 literary place. They are searching for precedents. 
 Unfortunately all they can find is the reception of 
 James I., before whom the young men performed 
 Latin plays, which unavoidably set him asleep or 
 made him swear; and that of James II., before 
 whom the Vice-Chancellor plumped on his knees in 
 the mud and made a Latin speech to. They are 
 jealous of the undergraduates, they are quarrelling 
 with each other, and, in short, it is very amusing. 
 
30 CONGRATULATORY ODES [CHAP. 
 
 It is said the Prince, by way of shirking the Dean 
 of Christ Church, has expressed his intention of 
 going to Merton, for the more convenient attendance 
 of his physician, Sir H. Halford. The Cossacks 
 are to bivouac in Merton meadow, and the Hetman 
 Platoff is to be remunerated for his services by being 
 created Doctor of Laws. Some say the Prince will 
 be hissed, and Lord Essex, who is coming, violently 
 applauded. If a degree to Lord Yarmouth be brought 
 in question, it will be refused most probably. Lines 
 to be spoken in compliment to the Regent : 
 
 Who made the fierce Muscovian burn his town ? 
 
 The Regent, with his whiskers curl'd and brown. 
 
 Who by Vittoria ruled the battle-storm ? 
 
 The Regent, with his fine new uniform. 
 
 Who made the harvest bloom so fine and yellow ? 
 
 It was the Regent, who was rather mellow. 
 
 And who by Leipsic Bonaparte beat? 
 
 It was the Regent, with his splendid fete. 
 
 And who in Paris set King Louis up ? 
 
 The Regent, who invited him to sup. 
 
 On the appointed day the Emperor of Russia, the 
 King of Prussia, and the Prince Regent paid their 
 anxiously expected visit to Oxford, where they were 
 received with the utmost enthusiasm, and were 
 sumptuously entertained with banquets, illumina- 
 tions, congratulatory odes, and addresses. Milman's 
 ode, for whatever reason, had not been accepted. 
 He refers to this in the following letter to his sister, 
 and gives some account of the reception of the royal 
 visitors : 
 
 I send enclosed two copies of certain odes of my 
 fabrication. The first was intended to have been 
 spoken at the royal visit ; but it was formally noted 
 
i.] MAGNIFICENT RECEPTION 31 
 
 to me that it was too long, and I was advised, among 
 others by the Poetry Professor, who judged about 
 them, to print it. I appended the other to com- 
 plete the volume. I suspect length was not the sole 
 objection. There was a want of flattery to the Prince 
 Regent which did not suit. Even Coleridge spoilt, 
 in my opinion, a beautiful ode by adding a stanza 
 about " the Brunswick " who, 
 
 When no earthly hope was given, 
 
 Found strength and confidence in Heaven. 
 
 I should think it was the only time he looked that 
 way for anything. The rest were not very strik- 
 ing ; the one most applauded was a parody on Mr. 
 Fitzgerald's "God bless the Regent and the Duke of 
 York." I was grievously disappointed in not speak- 
 ing, because my total absence of flattery would have 
 produced a good effect after the others. The whole 
 sight has been the most magnificent which can 
 be conceived : the newspapers give very good 
 general detail, but the splendour of the dinner in 
 the Radcliffe Library and the Theatre surpassed all 
 imagination. The Royal Personages were com- 
 pletely astonished themselves. They say the Prince 
 intends to hold his Court here, the applause he 
 met with being so extraordinary to him. He went 
 through everything admirably bowed to the com- 
 pliments most gracefully, and nudged the Emperor 
 when he ought to bow. The Emperor is a fine, 
 noble-looking man ; the King of Prussia, awkward 
 and like a drill sergeant ; Blucher, a fine German- 
 looking old fellow with large mustachios. The 
 city was illuminated at night, and you may conceive 
 the splendour only by considering the High Street 
 in a complete blaze, nothing dark but the spires of 
 churches. St. Mary's was lit up at the University's 
 expense, all the gate and three of the windows 
 
32 ILLUMINATIONS [CHAP. 
 
 traced in lamps, the pinnacles connected by festoons 
 of light. Hodson's house was very tasteful ; Queen's 
 splendid ; the gateway of Magdalen very finely 
 ornamented ; and the little church at the end of 
 Magdalen Bridge closed the whole, surmounted by 
 a brilliant coronet of lamps. 
 
ii.] "FAZIO" 33, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Fazio Its Success upon the Stage Miss Fanny Kemble and 
 Madame Ristori "Samor" Correspondence with Sir John 
 Coleridge Letter from Paris, 1815. 
 
 THAT Milman during the years of his life as an 
 undergraduate was steadily devoting himself 
 to the studies of the place is apparent from the 
 result ; but his time was certainly not wholly given 
 to what is usually considered academical learning. 
 His tragedy Fazio was written while he was still 
 at Oxford, and appeared soon after he had taken 
 his Bachelor's degree, being put upon the stage 
 without the author's knowledge, and without his 
 consent being in any single instance solicited. 
 Dramatic copyright was then unprotected, and it 
 may be worth while even now to quote a few lines 
 from the prefatory observations to a later edition, 
 to illustrate the injustice to which, previously to 
 the Act of William IV., the author of a play might 
 be exposed : 
 
 Its first appearance, I believe, was at the Surrey 
 Theatre, where it was brought forward under the 
 name of the Italian Wife, and it had been acted 
 some time before I was aware that the piece of 
 that name was my work. That theatre was then, 
 
 3 
 
34 ITS SUCCESS UPON THE STAGE [CHAP-. 
 
 I believe, only licensed for operatic performances, 
 but the company contrived to elude this restriction 
 by performing all kinds of dramas with what they 
 called a musical accompaniment. Every now and 
 then the string of a solitary violin was heard, while 
 the actors went on in their parts without the 
 slightest regard to the said accompaniment, and 
 so represented any drama which might suit their 
 purpose. It was in this manner that I first saw 
 Fazio, but I remember that the actress who 
 personated Bianca only wanted a better audience 
 to improve her taste." 
 
 If the author might fairly complain of the manner 
 in which his play was coolly appropriated without 
 any leave or licence previously obtained, he had 
 no reason to be dissatisfied with the result. It 
 was acted with complete success at Bath, and 
 arrangements were made by the managers of 
 Covent Garden (though still without any notice 
 of their intention) for its production on the London 
 stage : 
 
 " The first information which I received on the 
 subject was the request of Mr. Charles Kemble, 
 with whom I was then but slightly acquainted 
 through my intimate friend his gifted sister, Mrs. 
 Siddons, to permit him to read the part of Fazio 
 
 to me." 
 
 The play certainly seems to have taken with the 
 public. My father writes, November ist, 1818, to 
 his sister : 
 
 The letter you sent me was from Miss Somerville, 
 hoping that I should criticise if in London. She 
 
IL] MISS O'NEILL AS BIANCA 35 
 
 has since found out my abode at Reading, and 
 sends me the newspaper here. I should suppose 
 she has succeeded. The Don * sent me an extract 
 from the Globe newspaper, which outpuffed all 
 puff yet of myself and Miss Somerville. But you 
 must know, most impertinent miss, that my 
 London fame is not confined to Covent Garden, 
 the Surrey, and Olympia. They are playing me 
 with wonderful success at the East London Theatre 
 in Goodman's Fields, with a Miss Campbell for 
 heroine. So that my name may be known as far 
 as Whitechapel or Hockley-in-the-Hole. Pray 
 inform the Baronet, when you see him, that his 
 letter was safely delivered to Mr. Berry, and that 
 if the Regent, won by the splendour of the morocco, 
 shall insist on giving me a deanery, I do not know 
 that I shall be bashful. I wonder if I shall be able 
 to say, 
 
 To my work's immortal credit, 
 
 The Prince, dear sir, the Prince has read it. 
 
 It may be doubtful whether this particular credit 
 was secured ; but it is a fact that, in spite of some 
 adverse criticism and obvious blemishes which the 
 author in later days would not have been slow 
 to acknowledge, Fazio held possession of the stage, 
 and has been acted not unfrequently in quite recent 
 years. Bianca has been a favourite character, 
 especially with young actresses. A tradition of 
 the effect made by Miss O'Neill's admirable repre- 
 sentation long survived among older playgoers, 
 and the American Journal of Miss Kemble relates 
 the sensation made by her own personation of 
 
 * A nickname for his brother Frank. 
 
36 FANNY KEMBLE [CHAP. 
 
 the part in different cities of the United States. 
 Earlier, in the " Records of a Girlhood," Mrs. Butler 
 (Fanny Kemble) thus refers to her appearance in 
 Fazio at Covent Garden : 
 
 You will be glad to hear that Fazio has made 
 a great hit. Milman is coming to see me in it 
 to-night. I wish I could induce him to write me 
 another part. 
 
 And her father, Mr. Charles Kemble, writing under 
 date of January i4th, 1831, says, referring to this 
 performance : 
 
 I have secured for you a private box on the Bow 
 Street side, close to the stage, where Mrs. Milman 
 will both hear and see perfectly well. In my 
 opinion Bianca is far, very far in merit beyond 
 any part Fanny has yet attempted. May it appear 
 so to you, and induce you to write another tragedy, 
 and once more restore to us the bright days of the 
 Theatre. It was with great reluctance that I felt 
 compelled to resign Fazio the reason for which I 
 will give when I have the pleasure of seeing you in 
 London. 
 
 And Miss Kemble herself says : 
 
 Did my mother tell you in her note that Milman 
 was at the play the other night, and said I had 
 made Bianca exactly what he intended ? 
 
 In later years, after her unhappy marriage, Mrs. 
 Butler said to my father, " I could not act Bianca 
 now ; I should go mad." 
 
 Nor can any one who had the privilege of seeing 
 
ii.] MADAME RISTORI 37 
 
 it forget the beautiful impersonation of Bianca by 
 the great Italian tragedienne, Madame Ristori, at 
 whose performance, during one of her earlier visits 
 to England, my father, then Dean of St. Paul's, 
 was present. Madame Ristori told him that she had 
 been much impressed with the opportunities offered 
 by the play for a display of high histrionic art, and 
 had had it put for her into Italian by Signor Del' 
 Ongaro. 
 
 The tragedy of Fazio was followed by an epic 
 poem in twelve books, " Samor, Lord of the Bright 
 City." This, commenced as an Eton boy, was 
 almost finished while he was an undergraduate at 
 Oxford, though it was not published until the success 
 of Fazio had encouraged him to hazard another 
 appearance before the public. Though probably 
 known to few for, lost in the infinitely accumulating 
 crowd of books, it has shared the fate of many and 
 no doubt more deserving performances "Samor" 
 is of some interest as one of the earliest works of 
 its author, and as showing the varied nature of the 
 studies with which his school days were occupied. 
 
 I had at Eton the fancy for searching our old 
 chronicles for subjects for poetry ; and at that 
 buoyant period of youth we are sometimes gifted 
 with a happy ignorance of the magnitude of the 
 work we undertake, and are the last to mistrust 
 the sufficiency of our own powers for our noblest 
 undertakings. Youth, once possessed with a notion 
 of its poetic calling, is not disposed to take counsel 
 of prudence or diffidence : if it did, it would rarely 
 prepare the mind for producing anything of real 
 
38 "SAMOR" [CHAP. 
 
 value in riper years ; if too hastily cooled down, 
 it would in most cases be chilled to barren 
 inactivity. 
 
 The faults, indeed, with which " Samor " was, if 
 severely, yet perhaps justly, charged a too great 
 exuberance of ornament, and artificial diction 
 (Southey wrote of it as full of power and beauty, 
 but too full of them) were faults which might not 
 unnaturally be expected in a youthful poem, and 
 they were partly corrected in a later revised edition. 
 A notice of " Samor'' in the Quarterly Review by 
 Coleridge led to some correspondence between the 
 friends. Although Coleridge had concluded his 
 review in these words, " There is scarcely a page 
 of the book which does not testify that the author 
 is a poet of no ordinary powers ; every one of 
 them exhibits some beautiful expression, some 
 pathetic turn, some original thought, or some strik- 
 ing image," Milman had been hurt by the trenchant 
 nature of some of the criticisms, especially as coming 
 from a friend, and thought he had not been quite 
 fairly treated ; that while confessedly all the weak 
 parts of the poem had been analyzed, the critic left 
 off when he came to the higher strain ; that no theory 
 or principle had been laid down that might help 
 him to correct the defects that were pointed out, 
 or by which he might regulate his future operations. 
 Once having given vent to his feelings, the subject 
 was, I am sure, dismissed from my father's mind. 
 But the thought that he might been have hard or 
 unjust to a friend seems to have weighed upon 
 
ii.] LETTERS FROM J. T. COLERIDGE 39 
 
 Coleridge's sensitive and generous nature. After 
 my father's death Sir John Coleridge, when sending 
 to me some of the letters which he had preserved, 
 wrote (may I be pardoned the quotation the 
 words were, under the circumstances, singularly 
 affecting) : 
 
 I shall enclose with this [MS. volumes contain- 
 ing poems written at Eton] a few letters I have 
 found ; one I am sure will be deeply interesting to 
 you all, especially to your mother. You will see, 
 perhaps, that I have cut it out from a collection. 
 I own I part with it with regret, but I cannot even 
 wish to withhold it from that which you are making. 
 I might hesitate to send one or two others on my 
 own account, not his ; but it would be foolish in me 
 to do so. It is not the only regret which has been 
 occasioned to me by my unlucky criticism ; and the 
 regret, I am happy to say, is always tempered by 
 the thought of the perfect good temper with which 
 he forgave me. I never thought of him for many 
 years without a special feeling of tenderness on that 
 score towards him and condemnation of myself. 
 
 Then, in answer to a letter in which I had no 
 doubt ventured to express the grateful thanks of my 
 father's family to Sir John Coleridge for his kind- 
 ness in parting with these letters, he continues : 
 
 I am very thankful to you for your last letter, as 
 regards myself and my unhappy criticisms. I need 
 hardly say to you that I intended nothing unkind ; 
 but it is perhaps due to myself to say that I intended 
 something more ; and, extravagantly enough, some- 
 thing of this kind. I entertained a very high opinion 
 of your father's poetical powers, and of his destiny 
 
40 CRITICISM OF "SAMOR" [CHAP. 
 
 as a poet if he pursued the right course right, that 
 is, of course, according to my notions. He and I, 
 however, differed widely enough and in several 
 particulars. We had had many a stout fight in 
 conversation upon these. Now, my wild hope was 
 that all he had done, even " Samor " included, 
 might be but the precursor to greater perform- 
 ances ; and in that hope I wrote. I am not going 
 to trouble you with the controversy over again. 
 Looking back at fourscore on what he did do in 
 other ways after the publication of " Samor," I 
 accept thankfully what has been done ; but I am 
 not satisfied he might not have justified my hopes 
 in what I still think was his true as well as his 
 first line. 
 
 The letter above referred to, from which Sir 
 John Coleridge parted with regret, the last record 
 of a friendship which had lasted for full sixty years, 
 may here find an appropriate place, though not 
 written till the year preceding my father's death. 
 It is surely impossible to read without emotion these 
 friendly and affectionate communications between 
 the old schoolfellows whose honoured lives were 
 then so near their close. Coleridge had written to 
 congratulate my father on the appointment of his 
 nephew, Robert Milman, to the Bishopric of Calcutta, 
 under the impression, it appears, that he was a son 
 of the Dean. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 January 2\st, 1867. 
 
 MY DEAR COLERIDGE, 
 
 I cannot regret the misapprehension, or 
 rather the misinformation, under which your letter 
 has been written, as it has called forth such very 
 
IL] BISHOPRIC OF CALCUTTA 41 
 
 friendly expressions of interest in me and mine. It 
 is my nephew, and not my son, who is Bishop- 
 designate of Calcutta a nephew, as son of a very 
 dear brother, whose promotion gives me very great 
 satisfaction ; and of course the pang of parting at 
 my time of life from him is very different from that 
 of taking a last earthly farewell of a beloved son. 
 My nephew is, I may say, a man of great zeal and 
 activity ; and though of moderate High Church 
 opinions, with a great fund of good sense I suspect 
 one of the best qualifications for his arduous office. 
 Wherever he has been, he has been very popular in 
 the best sense ; and he has the talent of making 
 others act with him. He is unmarried ; but his 
 sister, who latterly has lived with him and shared 
 all his toils, accompanies him. She was my god- 
 daughter, and one for whom having, alas ! no 
 daughter left, and no daughter-in-law (as yet) I have 
 the greatest affection. I shall feel her loss deeply. 
 All this I write because I know how keenly alive 
 you are to the importance of filling with a fit person 
 the very difficult post of Bishop of Calcutta. But I 
 must revert to more personal matters, and assure 
 you how highly I appreciate your warm interest in 
 my family affairs and in myself. This renewal of 
 old friendships, which began so many years ago I 
 should not say renewal, for I trust that our friend- 
 ship and mutual regard have never ceased, however 
 divergent our paths in life, perhaps our opinions on 
 many important subjects this reawakening of old 
 associations is to me in the highest degree affecting. 
 In the interval so many have dropped off, so few 
 remain, that I cannot but feel deeply grateful for 
 your kind, and I am confident most sincere, language. 
 At our age there are few with whom our intimacy 
 began at least sixty years ago. In those sixty 
 years you have gained all that is worth having in 
 life high professional position, universal respect, 
 
42 JUBILEE BONFIRES [CHAP. 
 
 very many domestic blessings, the answer of a good 
 conscience, and I trust, though with some infirmities, 
 a quiet decline down the last slope of life. For 
 myself I may say that I have obtained much of 
 what I should most have coveted in early life a 
 post in the Church best suited to my habits and 
 tastes. I now find myself in a happy home, at 
 nearly seventy-six, with faculties unclouded, at least 
 as far as I am concerned ; with full enjoyment of 
 my books, as much so as when I was at Eton ; 
 with society which, if I enjoy more moderately 
 than of old, I can still delight in ; with most affec- 
 tionate sons and an inappreciable wife. What can 
 man wish more. How can he be sufficiently 
 thankful for such a lot ? . . . 
 
 Ever most truly yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 I have spoken of " Samor " as forgotten ; but this 
 is perhaps too broad a statement ; for I have been 
 informed that, a discussion having recently arisen 
 upon the various accounts of the lighting of the 
 Jubilee bonfires over Great Britain, the description 
 of the firing of the beacons from one end of the 
 western part of the island to the other, from 
 Cornwall to Cumberland, given in the loth Book 
 of " Samor," was referred to by a very competent 
 judge as more vividly reproducing the impression 
 intended to be conveyed than any other with which 
 he was acquainted. In legendary history Samor, a 
 British chief, more commonly known as Edol or 
 Eldol, " is Lord " Dugdale, in his " Baronage," 
 calls him Earl of "Caer Gloew, the Bright City, the 
 Saxon Gloucester." A gathering of British chiefs 
 
IL] "SAMOR" QUOTED 43 
 
 has assembled at Mount St. Michael, in Cornwall, 
 which has been joined by Hoel, King of Armorica 
 (Bretagne), with his fleet. Emrys is hailed as 
 King of Britain, and the fiery signal is lighted to 
 summon all the chiefs to united resistance against 
 the Saxon invader : 
 
 "Air, earth, and waters, ye have play'd your part; 
 
 There's yet another element," cried aloud 
 
 Samor, and in the pyre he cast a brand. 
 
 A moment, and uprush'd the giant fire, 
 
 Piercing the dim heavens with its blazing brow, 
 
 And on the still air shaking its red locks. 
 
 There by its side the vassals and their King, 
 
 Motionless, with their shadows huge and dun, 
 
 Show'd like destroying angels, round enwrapp'd 
 
 In their careering pomp of flame : far flash' d 
 
 The yellow midnight day o'er shore and sea : 
 
 The waves now ruddy heaved, now darkly plung'd; 
 
 Upon the rocks, within the wavering light, 
 
 Strong-featured faces fierce, and hard-lined forms 
 
 Broke out and disappear' d : the anchor' d fleet 
 
 Were laving their brown sides in rainbow spray. 
 
 No sound was heard, but the devouring flame, 
 
 And the thick plashing waters. " Keep your faith," 
 
 Cried Samor, " ye eternal hills, and ye 
 
 Heaven-neighbouring mountains!" Eastward far anon 
 
 Another fire rose furious up : behind 
 
 Another and another: all the hills, 
 
 Each beyond each, held up its crest of flame. 
 
 Along the heavens the bright and crimson hue, 
 
 Widening and deepening, travels on : the range 
 
 O'erleaps black Tamar, by whose ebon tide 
 
 Cornwall is bounded ; and on Heytor rock, 
 
 Above the stony, moorish source of Dart, 
 
 It waves a sanguine standard : Haldon burns, 
 
 And the red City * glows a deeper hue. 
 
 And all the southern rocks, the moorland downs, 
 
 In those portentous characters of flame 
 
 Discourse, and bear the glaring legend on : 
 
 Even to the graves on Ambri plain, where woke 
 
 That pallid woman, and rejoiced and deem'd 
 
 'Twas sent to guide her to the tomb she sought. 
 
 * Caer-ruth, Exeter. 
 
44 FIRING OF THE BEACONS [CHAP. 
 
 Fast flash they up, those altars of revenge, 
 
 As though the snake-hair' d Sister torch-bearers, 
 
 Th' Eumenides, from the Tartarean depths, 
 
 Were leaping on from hill to hill, on each 
 
 Leaving the tracks of their flame-dropping feet. 
 
 Or as the souls of the dead fathers, wrapt 
 
 In bright meteorous grave-clothes, had arisen, 
 
 And each sat crowning his accustom'd hill, 
 
 Radiant and mute ; or the devoted isle 
 
 Had wrought down by her bold and frequent guilt 
 
 Th' Almighty's lightning-shafts, now numberless 
 
 Forth-raining from the lurid reeking clouds, 
 
 And smiting all the heights. On spreads the train. 
 
 Northward it breaks upon the Quantock ridge ; 
 
 It reddens on the Mendip forests dark; 
 
 It looks into the cavern' d Cheddar cliffs : 
 
 The boatman on the Severn mouth awakes 
 
 And sees the waters rippling round his keel 
 
 In spots and streaks of purple light, each shore 
 
 Ablaze with all its answering hills : the streams 
 
 Run glittering down Plinlimmon's side, though thick 
 
 And moonless the wan night ; and Idris stands 
 
 Like Stromboli or ^Etna, where 'twas feign'd 
 
 Ever at their flashing furnace wrought the Sons 
 
 Of Vulcan, forging with eternal toil 
 
 Jove's never-idle thunder-bolts. And thou, 
 
 Snowdon, the king of mountains, art not dark 
 
 Amid thy vassal brethren gleaming bright. 
 
 Is it to welcome thy returning Seer, 
 
 That thus above thy clouds, above thy snows, 
 
 Thou wear'st that wreathed diadem of fire, 
 
 As to outshine the pale and winking stars ? 
 
 O'er Menai's waters blue the gleaming spreads : 
 
 The Bard in Mona's secret grove beholds 
 
 A glitter on his harp-strings, and looks out 
 
 Upon the kindling cliffs of Penmanmawr. 
 
 Is it a pile of martyrdom above 
 
 Clwyd's green vale ? Beside the embers bright 
 
 Stands holy Germain, as a saint new come 
 
 From the pure mansions of beatitude, 
 
 The centre of a glory that spreads round 
 
 Its film of thin pellucid gold. Nor there 
 
 Pauses the restless messenger ; still on 
 
 Vaults it from rock to rock, from peak to peak. 
 
 Far seen it shimmer' d on Caer Ebranc Wall, 
 
 And Malwyn blew a bugle-blast for joy. 
 
IL] LETTER FROM PARIS, 1815 45 
 
 The sun uprising sees the dusk night fled 
 
 Already from tall Pendle and the height 
 
 Of Ingleborough ; sees Helvellyn cast 
 
 A meteor splendour on the mountain lakes. 
 
 Like mirrors of the liquid molten brass, 
 
 The brightest and the broadest and the last, 
 
 There flakes the beacon glare; and in the midst, 
 
 Dashing the ruddy sparkles to and fro 
 
 With the black remnant of a pine-tree stem, 
 
 Stands, arm'd from head to foot, Prince Vortimer. 
 
 These references to Fazio and "Samor" have 
 carried us on to somewhat later days ; but before 
 leaving this chapter of early reminiscences, a visit 
 to Paris, then occupied by the " Allies," may be 
 mentioned. When Paris was thrown open by this 
 occupation, there was an immediate influx of visitors 
 eager to satisfy a pent-up curiosity. My father, 
 no doubt as eager as any, describes his hurried 
 visit in two letters to his sister, to which the 
 occasion may attach some interest : 
 
 HOTEL DE VIRGINIE, RUE ST. HONORE, 
 Tuesday, August i<\th, 1815. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY, 
 
 Here I am, with my head in a whirl, my 
 feet aching, and my whole self in as complete a state 
 of fatigue as if I had been taking a walk to the 
 moon. This Paris certainly, in its present state, is 
 the most extraordinary place, and the most noisy, I 
 ever saw ; and the Rue St. Honore seems a channel 
 made for all the noises to pass to all the other parts 
 of the city shoals of passengers afoot, pushing on, 
 or else fixing themselves like bills to the walls, for 
 fear of being crushed by coaches, cabriolets, fiacres, 
 and all the four-wheeled and two-wheeled vehicles 
 tilting along at a round trot, and the coachmen 
 hallooing, (( Gare ! gare ! " I had a most prosperous 
 
46 "IPHIG&NIE EN TAURIDE" [CHAP. 
 
 journey ; found a vessel ready to sail, got on board 
 at eight o'clock in the evening, and was in Dieppe 
 before eight the next morning ; but the ship not 
 being able to come into the harbour, I could not get 
 my luggage till two, which gave me plenty of time 
 to reconnoitre the particularly and notoriously thick 
 ankles of the Dieppese ladies. One of my com- 
 panions in the vessel was Mary Anne Clarke,* l( my 
 darling," in the last stage apparently of consumption, 
 without any remains of beauty, of which, I believe, 
 she never had a great share, but excessively amusing. 
 I did not find out who she was till just before we 
 parted company. Mr. William Smith, of Norwich, 
 and two of his sons were also there ; but I did not find 
 out who he was, excepting that he was a Mr. Smith, 
 till after we had parted. I arrived in Paris in time 
 to see Talma, Damas, and Mademoiselle George in 
 Iphigtnie en Tauride. Talma was glorious ; Damas 
 very good ; the lady sometimes very good, some- 
 times screamy. The play is rather a good one, 
 because the author had not genius enough to spoil 
 Euripides, but imitated him very quietly, only alter- 
 ing a few incidents, and, by-the-bye, leaving out 
 some of the finest touches. This morning, after a 
 visit to the Louvre, I left all my letters, having been 
 lucky enough to call on Mr. Frederick North, who 
 gave me recommendations to Langlet, the great 
 Orientalist, librarian in the Bibliotheque du Roi ; 
 Monsieur Chevalier, ditto at the Pantheon ; Monsieur 
 Nicolopoulo, a Greek, ditto at the Institut. What 
 crop they will produce I know not. I met Hawkins 
 where I dined on my arrival ; saw Master this 
 morning ; and called on both the Plantas, but did not 
 find them. 
 
 As for the state of affairs, I can know nothing ; 
 nor do I think that the opinion of any individual 
 
 * For an account of Mary Anne Clarke, see "Dictionary of 
 National Biography," sub nom. 
 
IL] THE LOUVRE 47 
 
 who has not very great advantages is of the 
 slightest importance. As far as I can see and hear, 
 they are in a perfect state of apathy. The Dukes 
 of Angouleme and Berri went in state to N otre Dame 
 to-day, but there was no appearance of applause or 
 dislike ; the people, who were in great numbers, 
 seemed to look at them for the sake of looking at 
 something. It certainly, however, did not appear a 
 sullen, but a totally careless silence. Labddoyere's 
 trial is closed, and he is condemned ; whether they 
 will shoot him I know not. Ney is taken, and the 
 jeu de mots is, " Bonaparte a perdu son NeJ." It 
 sounds very well, but, as you see, does not write. 
 At Dieppe and Rouen they would not believe that 
 we had got Boney ; at Rouen they declared roundly 
 that both he and Madame Bertrand were still at Paris. 
 
 This particular caution I must give you : that this 
 is by far the worst place for writing I ever knew ; 
 the day is so completely filled, and probably will be, 
 that you must excuse the scarcity of my epistles. 
 
 Of the Louvre I say nothing yet, excepting that 
 with my admiration of the Apollo there is a great 
 mixture of anger on account of the wretched manner 
 it is placed. You can neither go round it, see the 
 hinder part of it, or get near it. 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 
 H. H. M. 
 
 H6TEL DE VlRGINIE, RUE ST. HONORE, 
 
 August 2.%th. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY, 
 
 I pass my time here very pleasantly, and 
 shall do so, I expect, as long as the sights last. I 
 have passed every day, except one, between two and 
 three hours in the Louvre, and have not near 
 finished my studies yet. The Apollo, the Laocoon, 
 the two Gladiators, and innumerable other statues 
 it is impossible to survey completely without passing 
 
48 STANCE OF THE INSTITUT [CHAP. 
 
 a long time before each ; and in the gallery the 
 Raphaels, the Rubens, are new again at every fresh 
 point of view. Then come Correggios, Andrea del 
 Sartos, Leonardo da Vincis, and Vandykes, all 
 exquisite in their way. They in general are very 
 poor in landscapes, their Claudes are few and by no 
 means first rate, only three moderate G. Poussins, 
 some lovely Berghems, and two very fine Rembrandt 
 landscapes which I caught in the very act of 
 removal. If I were to begin details upon separate 
 pictures, I should never have done. I find acquaint- 
 ances without end every day. Old Mr. Planta and I 
 meet among the savans. Joseph I have not yet seen ; 
 he is entirely occupied with affairs of State. I went 
 to a stance of the Institut the other day, and was. 
 in great peril of a second yesterday, but escaped 
 miraculously. The first day, after a very simple and 
 good memoir of Visconti's on a Greek inscription 
 of Lord Elgin's, advanced a dark man with a pair 
 of spectacles astride a large nose, and began on the 
 philosophy of Raymond Lully, which he continued 
 for three-quarters of an hour, and at last wound up 
 with an enfin, " that the philosophy of Lully did not 
 deserve to be recovered from the oblivion into 
 which it has so justly fallen." The letters which 
 have established me among the savans were given 
 me by Mr. Frederick North. Le Chevalier I find 
 a delightful old man, perfectly of an English opinion 
 with regard to the depravity and despicableness of 
 his country. He calls Bonaparte ce coquin grand 
 administrates, laughs at the savans, and abuses 
 the Edinburgh Reviewers. He gave me a most 
 amusing account of his meeting, at dinner in 
 London, Hunt, the editor of the Examiner. I went 
 to a learned dejeuner on Sunday at Langlet's, the 
 great Orientalist, who unhappily is the only French- 
 man whom I cannot understand ; he holds his head 
 down, being a little man, and spills his words oa 
 
ii.] "ANDROMAQUE" THE THEATRE FRANAIS 49 
 
 the ground in such a manner that it might be 
 Sanscrit for aught I can distinguish to the contrary. 
 The great man, or rather lion, of the party was the 
 Count Volney who was in Egypt a worthy old 
 gentleman who intends to prove to us that the 
 writings of Moses ought to be dated two or three 
 thousand years later. The savans seemed to think 
 him something very fine ; for my part, though it 
 is not fair to judge of a man by one morning, I 
 thought him a prosing old system-monger. I liked 
 Volknaer, their great geographer, the best of those I 
 conversed with. I have also various Greek acquaint- 
 ances, beginning with Arsenics, the Archimandrite 
 of Sparta, who saluted me to-day with the holy kiss, 
 and ending with Monsieur Nicolopoulo, who writes 
 Greek poetry. 
 
 I am just returned from the Theatre Fran^ais, 
 where I saw Andromaque. The three first acts 
 were heavy and wearisome. I could only think of 
 what Orestes usually appears to me in the tragedies 
 with which I am familiar : either labouring with the 
 dreadful Heaven-ordained task of killing his mother, 
 or pursued by her avenging furies ; instead of which 
 I had him before me whining out rhymes of flamme 
 and dme, talking about invincibles attraits, and all 
 the mawkish and sickly fafon de parler of French 
 love-making, the savage barbarian Pyrrhus in 
 the same style to a woman who in point of fact 
 was as much his property as his horse. In 
 the fourth and fifth acts, however, I forgot who 
 they all were, and was in the highest degree 
 delighted with the ravings of Madame Duchesnois 
 and some noble touches of Talma. Talma's 
 countenance is round and by no means expressive ; 
 his voice full and strong to the finest tone ; his action 
 free ; and but for the inherent defects of French 
 versification, which often throws the cadence on 
 the wrong word, and to avoid the monotony of the 
 
50 MADEMOISELLE MARS [CHAP. 
 
 rhymes forces them all into a trick of sliding the 
 first words of the following couplet into the pre- 
 ceding one, when the sense demands a pause at 
 the close of the first couplet but for these disad- 
 vantages his delivery would be excellent. Madame 
 Duchesnois storms admirably ; it is not rant, but 
 a long-sustained effort of raving, which she con- 
 trives to break with a hurrying delivery of a few 
 lines, and thus passes through the long jingling 
 speeches with great effect. Their comedy is 
 admirable. I saw Tartuffe the other night. 
 Mademoiselle Mars surpasses all our comedians 
 far and far ; her laughing eye and graceful easiness 
 of manner are perfect. The men were also ex- 
 cellent, but did not surpass Dowton's Dr. Cantwell. 
 
 I am greatly tempted by books. The good 
 French works are as cheap as possible. I bought 
 a complete Delia Valle in four volumes, in decent 
 condition, for five francs. 
 
 My love to all, and believe me 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 
 H. H. M. 
 
 Are the " Me*moires de la Re*gence du Due 
 d'Orlelans," the posthumous work of Marmontel, 
 which my mother wants to complete her set ? 
 
in.] ENTERS INTO HOLY ORDERS 5 1 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Enters into Holy Orders First Curacy Nominated to the Vicarage 
 of St. Mary's, Reading Poetical Works Fall of Jerusalem 
 Martyr of Antioch Belshazzar Professorship of Poetry 
 at Oxford Tour in Italy Marriage. 
 
 OUR interest in the success of Fazio, the only 
 play that was written by my father for the 
 stage, and the visit to Paris, have carried us on a few 
 years, and we must now go back to Oxford, where 
 he had taken his degree in 1813, and had obtained 
 his First Class, after, I believe, an examination of 
 exceptional brilliance. It is not quite clear for how 
 long afterwards he continued in residence ; * but it 
 cannot have been for many terms, as in 1816 he 
 entered into Holy Orders, being ordained deacon 
 by Archbishop Howley, then Bishop of London, 
 and priest in the same year by Dr. Legge, Bishop 
 of Oxford. After serving some months in the 
 
 * Sir Henry Longley has favoured me with the particulars of a 
 club of young Masters of Arts at Oxford who about this time dined 
 monthly during term in rotation at each other's rooms. The list of 
 members is remarkable, especially seeing in what different directions 
 they ultimately tended, and including as it does such names as 
 Thomas Arnold, Oriel ; Augustus W. Hare, New ; Edward Hawkins 
 (Provost of Oriel); John Keble, Oriel; Charles T. Longley, Ch. Ch. 
 (Archbishop of Canterbury) ; Henry Hart Milman, B.N.C. (Dean of 
 St. Paul's) ; Thomas Vowler Short, Ch. Ch. (Bishop of St. Asaph) ; 
 Charles A. Ogilvie, Balliol. 
 
52 VICAR OF ST. MARY'S, READING [CHAP. 
 
 curacy of Baling, he was nominated in 1817 by 
 the Chancellor, Lord Eldon, to the vicarage of 
 St. Mary's, Reading. This appointment, though 
 formally made by the Chancellor, was, there can 
 be no doubt, obtained by the direct intervention of 
 Queen Charlotte, who was desirous of showing her 
 sense of the obligation which she was under, as has 
 been already indicated, to her physician, Sir Francis 
 Milman. A curious letter from Lord Stowell, who 
 resided at Early Court, in the neighbourhood of 
 Reading, explains the circumstances under which 
 ihe appointment was made. 
 
 Some reflections having it was many years after- 
 wards been made upon Mr. Milman, for acting, 
 as was suggested, in a manner not quite suitable 
 to a person in occupation of a Chancellor's living, 
 Lord Stowell writes a very handsome letter, which 
 he desired should, if Mr. Milman wished it, be 
 delivered to him, assuring his correspondent that 
 no such thought had ever been harboured in his 
 mind ; and then, after explaining the circumstances 
 under which the presentation had been made, he 
 concludes : 
 
 I have always considered Mr. Milman as the 
 presentee of the Queen, and have never looked to 
 him as a person who was at all bound to my brother 
 or myself in any debt of gratitude for that living, for 
 which he should be in the slightest degree bound to 
 vote upon any occasion otherwise than as his own 
 private judgment might dictate, and I beg that this 
 may be communicated to him. 
 
 My father was not the man to vote under any 
 
in.] LORD STOWELL 53 
 
 circumstances otherwise than his judgment directed ; 
 but Lord Stowell's letter is written in a generous 
 spirit, all the more considering that his brother, the 
 Chancellor, had promised him that he should have 
 the nomination in his own hands. Lord Stowell 
 and the vicar of St. Mary's, it may be added, were 
 always on the most friendly terms, and from the 
 beginning Lord Stowell admitted that the nomi- 
 nation was a highly proper one. And if my father 
 was indebted for this his first piece of preferment 
 to Court favour, it was certainly the last and only 
 advancement that could in any way be attributed 
 to such influence. For the reputation which he 
 soon earned for himself in the county town in 
 which his living was situated, as a clergyman re- 
 markable for the breadth and liberality of his 
 religious views, for moderation, for toleration, was 
 little calculated to commend him to the High Tory 
 party, which was then predominant in the Church of 
 England. Moreover, when to this general feeling of 
 distrust was added the more particular indignation 
 which was roused in pious minds of the straiter 
 sect by the publication of the " History of the Jews," 
 it seemed as if this prophecy of a writer in the 
 Edinburgh Review (T. Moore) would be fulfilled : 
 " Woe unto the young divine who, like the accom- 
 plished author of the * History of the Jews,' dares 
 to reason, however unpretendingly and sensibly, 
 upon matters of religious concernment ! On him 
 will the theological reviews, monthly and quarterly, 
 pour the vials of their wrath on him the golden 
 
54 READING IN 1817 [CHAP. 
 
 paths of preferment will, as sure as he lives, 
 be shut." For eighteen years accordingly, from 
 1817 to 1835, my father remained vicar of St. 
 Mary's years full of activity, intellectual progress, 
 diversified pursuits. 
 
 Reading in the early years of the century was a 
 very different place from what it has since become 
 as a centre of railway traffic and an emporium of 
 biscuit-manufacturers and seed-growers. It was in 
 1817 a lively, busy county town, of from eight to 
 nine thousand inhabitants, with assize court, gaol, 
 and ruins of the once famous abbey. There was 
 also a grammar school of reputation, then and for 
 some years afterwards, under the rule of Dr. Valpy, 
 whose " Delectus " was only too well known to 
 several generations of schoolboys. Situated on the 
 Kennet just above its junction with the Thames, be- 
 tween which and Reading spread rich open meadows, 
 a beautiful view extended on either side from Maple- 
 durham to Sonning. The road to Caversham on 
 the Oxfordshire bank crossed by a picturesque old 
 bridge of several arches, which has since been re- 
 placed by a not picturesque iron contrivance. Then 
 and for long afterwards in fact, until one of the 
 latest Reform Bills Reading returned two members 
 to Parliament ; and the writer of these lines can just 
 remember being taken as a very little boy on a bitter 
 frosty day to see the candidates chaired after an 
 election, and to have been much impressed by the 
 wavering motion of the bearers, and indeed of the 
 whole crowd, on the slippery roads, which made 
 
in.] MR. JUSTICE TALFOURD 55 
 
 the whole procession look like a wild Bacchanalian 
 rout, previous libations having no doubt added to 
 the general unsteadiness. 
 
 This must, I think, have been at the General 
 Election in January, 1835, on which occasion Serjeant 
 Talfourd afterwards Mr. Justice Talfourd and 
 Charles Russell were returned, Mr. Olivera being 
 the unsuccessful candidate. A note from Serjeant 
 Talfourd solicits my father's vote : 
 
 READING, January *jth, 1835. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 If consistently with your own view you can 
 in the present state of the poll honour me with a 
 vote, I shall feel the obligation deeply. At all 
 events, I trust you will pardon a request which is 
 prompted by the natural desire of recording in my 
 favour a name so distinguished in our literature, 
 and shedding so much lustre on my native town. 
 I am, dear sir, 
 
 Most respectfully yours, 
 
 T. N. TALFOURD. 
 
 One other digressive reminiscence. The windows 
 of the nursery at the vicarage overlooked the church 
 and churchyard, and I remember that our old nurse 
 (not old then) used to sit hour after hour at night 
 watching the grave of a loved sister, in fear lest it 
 should be rifled, for the names of " Burke and 
 Hare " had caused a sort of panic of terror, 
 especially among the class to which she belonged. 
 
 The announcement of my father's appointment 
 to the vicarage of St. Mary is said to have 
 been received with some misgiving by certain 
 
56 MISS MITFORD [CHAP. 
 
 of his future parishioners, whose equanimity was 
 disturbed at the idea of submitting themselves to 
 the spiritual guidance of a minister who had written 
 a play a play that had, moreover, been actually put 
 upon the stage. This distrust, revived after some 
 years in an acuter form on the publication of the 
 " History of the Jews," was perhaps never alto- 
 gether removed, but it was tempered by the respect 
 and admiration that every one felt for their vicar's 
 talents and rising reputation. His parishioners 
 were proud of him, and he won a way to their 
 hearts by the zealous discharge of his parochial 
 duties, and by his consistent moderation and 
 toleration. 
 
 Have you read Mr. Milman's new poem ? 
 [Miss Mitford enquires of her father]. We have 
 Mr. Milman himself in Reading : he has gotten 
 one of the livings there, and reads and preaches 
 enchantingly. 
 
 And speaking of his preaching on another occasion 
 more particularly, she says : 
 
 Mr. Milman made a great display last Wednesday 
 at the Bishop's visitation, preaching a sermon which 
 I was so unlucky as not to hear, but which every- 
 body speaks of as a most splendid piece of oratory 
 on the philosophy of preaching. I hope he'll print it. 
 
 It was in the earlier years of his residence at 
 Reading that his brilliant poetical career may, too, 
 be said to have culminated by the publication of 
 his three religious dramas, the Fall of Jerusalem 
 
HI.] "THE FALL OF JERUSALEM" 57 
 
 (1820), the Martyr of Antioch, and Belshazzar 
 (1822), which were followed somewhat later by 
 an historical tragedy, Anne Boleyn, with which 
 this phase of his work was concluded. 
 
 It may be difficult for the present generation to 
 realize the general favour with which these dramas, 
 at least the first two of them, were received ; but 
 this is no reason for depreciating the judgment of 
 our fathers. And what this judgment was may be 
 not unfairly estimated by the opinions of two very 
 competent critics, of very different character and 
 school of thought : Reginald Heber, afterwards 
 Bishop of Calcutta ; and Christopher North (Pro- 
 fessor Wilson), who has been already quoted on 
 the subject of prize poems. 
 
 Murray has sent me [writes Heber] a copy of a 
 glorious poem by Milman on the Fall of Jerusalem, 
 which he wishes me to review immediately. I have 
 looked at some parts, and been delighted with it. 
 
 And thus the Professor : 
 
 Each successive poem of that beautiful writer was 
 highly not too highly praised in the Quarterly 
 Review, to which he had been one of the most 
 powerful contributors. On every account he de- 
 serves such eulogies. 
 
 Doubtless * to this generation the memory of 
 
 * To obviate any misconception, it may be mentioned that this 
 and a few other sentences are taken from a brief memoir of Dean 
 Milman by the writer of these lines, hurriedly prepared at the request 
 of a friend for insertion in a then (1869) new publication, "The 
 Register; or, Magazine of Biography." 
 
58 "THE MARTYR OF ANTIOCH" [CHAP. 
 
 Milman as a poet (" poet-priest Milman," as he is 
 called by Lord Byron) has in large measure become 
 obscured by distance, and to the majority of readers 
 of poetry he may be chiefly known as the writer 
 of those beautiful hymns for the Church service 
 which he contributed to Bishop Heber's collection : 
 among others, the hymns for Palm Sunday, " Ride 
 on ! ride on in majesty ! " " When our heads are 
 bowed with woe," and that exquisitely pathetic 
 funeral hymn from the Martyr of Antioch, " Brother, 
 thou art gone before us." On the subject of these 
 hymns, under date of May nth, 1821, Heber 
 writes : 
 
 I rejoice to hear so good an account of the pro- 
 gress which your Saint [alluding to the Martyr of 
 Antiocti\ is making towards her crown, and feel 
 really grateful for the kindness which enables you, 
 while so occupied, to recollect my hymn-book. I 
 have in the last month received some assistance 
 
 from , which would once have pleased me well ; 
 
 but, alas ! your Advent, Good Friday, and Palm 
 Sunday hymns have spoilt me for all other attempts 
 of the sort. 
 
 And on December 28th : 
 
 You have indeed sent me a most powerful re- 
 inforcement to my projected hymn-book, and I 
 shall neither need nor wait for the aid of Scott and 
 Southey. Most sincerely, I have not seen any 
 lines of the kind which more completely correspond 
 to my ideas of what such compositions ought to be, 
 or to the plan, the outline of which it has been my 
 wish to fill up. 
 
in.] HYMNS IN HEBER'S COLLECTION 59 
 
 Those, too, who may not care, or have time, to 
 recur to the religious dramas as a whole, may be 
 reminded that in them are scattered other hymns 
 and Christian lyric odes which are admittedly of 
 a high order of beauty a^nd merit. Of these, that 
 noble ode in the Fall of Jerusalem of which the 
 following is the opening stanza has often been 
 quoted. It appeals to the All- Merciful : 
 
 For Thou wert born of woman : Thou didst come, 
 O Holiest ! to this world of sin and gloom, 
 Not in Thy dread omnipotent array ; 
 
 And not by thunders strew' d 
 
 Was Thy tempestuous road : 
 Nor indignation burns before Thee on Thy way. 
 But Thee, a soft and naked child, 
 
 Thy mother undefiled 
 In the rude manger laid to rest 
 
 From off her virgin breast. 
 
 Equally beautiful is Margarita's ecstatic song when 
 led to execution at Antioch : 
 
 What means yon blaze on high ? 
 
 The empyrean sky, 
 
 Like the rich veil of some proud fane, is rending. 
 
 And that most pathetic hymn of the bereaved parents 
 in Belshazzar : 
 
 O Thou that wilt not break the bruised reed, 
 
 Nor heap fresh ashes on the mourner's brow, 
 
 Nor rend anew the wounds that inly bleed, 
 
 The only balm of our affliction Thou, 
 
 Teach us to bear Thy chastening wrath, O God ! 
 
 To kiss with quivering lips still humbly kiss Thy rod. 
 
 For many years after his appointment to St. Mary's 
 at Reading, my father's intimate connection with his 
 
60 LETTER TO COLERIDGE [CHAP, 
 
 University still remained unbroken. He was a Select 
 Preacher in 1820, Professor of Poetry in 1821, 
 Bampton Lecturer in 1827. The following letter to 
 his friend Coleridge with reference to his candidature 
 for the professorship is of some interest. It must 
 not be forgotten, however, while reading it, that 
 some years had still to elapse before Keble's name, 
 as the author of the " Christian Year," was to 
 become a household word : 
 
 ST. MARY'S, READING, November $th, 1821. 
 
 MY DEAR COLERIDGE, 
 
 Many thanks for your very kind letter which 
 I found on my table on my return from Oxford, to 
 which the rumour of Keble's opposition had hurried 
 me, as I wished to consult my friends there on the 
 subject. On my arrival I was most agreeably 
 relieved from all my uneasiness by hearing Keble's 
 determination ; his conduct in the whole transaction 
 has been, what all who know him would expect, most 
 honourable, and such as to endear him to me more 
 than even my former regard for his character. The 
 being opposed by him would have been most un- 
 pleasant, as certainly the less collision there is in the 
 interest of friends the better, and the contest would 
 have placed many of our mutual intimates in a very 
 unpleasant state of embarrassment. This is now, 
 however, over ; and my chance of success, which 
 against Keble would have depended on the number 
 of votes out of the University which I could have 
 brought up, and I think (in confidence to you I 
 state it) that I could have moved a good majority, 
 may now be safely left to the residents to decide. 
 Of course this mode of viewing the subject migh 
 give more deadly offence to this latter body than 
 any of my other conduct. You therefore will see 
 
in.] PROFESSORSHIP OF POETRY 6 1 
 
 that it is intended only for your private ear. For 
 my other trespasses I really cannot plead guilty to 
 them. The first is a shaft from that quiver of 
 calumny which showered on to our heads so 
 abundantly during the late contest. To drop all 
 metaphor, it is a great lie. I have indeed mentioned 
 to my friends my intention of standing, and I may 
 have said to some very intimate ones that I expected 
 their votes ; it is also true that I have been asked 
 my intention, and voluntarily been promised support, 
 by one or two persons with whom I was not personally 
 acquainted ; but no solicitation has been made by me 
 outside of that circle, and my Brasenose friends would 
 justly have thought me selfish and interested if I had 
 thought of intruding myself during the progress, or 
 in the immediate prospect of Heber's more important 
 election.* For my second head of offending I can 
 say in the words of Mrs. Malaprop, " How can I help 
 it if the gods have made me poetical ? " But saving 
 my antagonists' wisdom, what do they know of our 
 respective critical talents ? If a man writes good 
 poetry, it is some cause for suspecting that he knows 
 something about poetry. Enough of this, however ; 
 and, seriously, I am very much obliged to you for 
 your kind caution and advice. It was thought 
 prudent by my friends that I should not appear or 
 visit any one the day I was at Oxford, lest it should 
 appear canvassing. As, however, I am Preacher, 
 either this term or the beginning of next, an un- 
 exceptionable opportunity will occur of passing some 
 days in Oxford. I ought perhaps to have thanked 
 you for waiving your own claims, which I do most 
 sincerely. Shuttleworth I know to have long de- 
 clined I believe from a decided dislike to all public 
 appearance, which makes even preaching disagree- 
 able to him. I have nearly ready for publication 
 
 * The election of Mr. Richard Heber as burgess to represent the 
 University in Parliament. 
 
62 ELECTION TO THE CHAIR [CHAP. 
 
 the Martyr of Antioch, a dramatic poem ; not quite 
 so near, but far advanced, Belshazzar. What say 
 you as to the prudence of publishing at all before 
 the P.P. is decided? I am sure Murray will be 
 regulated by me about publication. The latter I 
 have great hopes of. 
 
 Believe me ever very sincerely yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 Eventually my father was elected to the chair 
 I believe without opposition ; and being, as the 
 custom was and is, re-elected for a second term in 
 1826, he continued to hold the professorship till 
 1831. His lectures on the history of Greek 
 poetry, composed and delivered, according to the 
 ancient and then rigid usage, in Latin, were long 
 remembered for the beautiful translations from 
 Greek and Latin poets with which they were 
 enlivened and illustrated an object in itself desir- 
 able, as that perfect familiarity with Latin which 
 would enable the audience to follow an unbroken 
 lecture in that language was by no means general, 
 especially among the younger students. These 
 translations, with translations of the "Agamemnon" 
 of ^Eschylus and the " Bacchanals " of Euripides,, 
 published in 1864, form a charming volume. 
 
 After referring to his lectures and to the occasion 
 for which the translations had been originally made, 
 my father, in a few introductory sentences to explain 
 their conservation and publication after an interval 
 of some forty years, says : 
 
 I ' have consigned my lectures with unaverted 
 
HI.] POETICAL TRANSLATIONS 63 
 
 eyes to the flames. The translations I was, how- 
 ever, not quite so easily content to part with. 
 They were heard at the time with much favour 
 by many whose judgment stood high in the 
 University, and I have met with some in later 
 days (one * especially, by whose brilliant and busy 
 life such reminiscences, I should have supposed, 
 would have been long utterly effaced) who retained 
 a vivid impression of the delight with which they 
 had heard them in their youth. To these (few, 
 I fear), as to myself, they may be welcome as 
 pleasant voices from days long gone by ; while to 
 some others (not, I fear, too many), lovers of Greek 
 poetry especially, they may not be altogether 
 unacceptable. 
 
 From the professor's chair at Oxford, too, was 
 read a part of those translations from the Sanscrit 
 which afterwards appeared under the title of " Nala 
 and Damayanti, and Other Poems." t His account 
 of the manner in which he became engaged in these 
 studies is thus explained { : 
 
 During the last two years in which I held the 
 office of Professor of Poetry in the University of 
 Oxford, having exhausted the subject which I had 
 chosen for my terminal course, I was at loss for 
 some materials for the few remaining lectures before 
 my office should expire. I had been led, by the 
 ardent curiosity which I have ever felt to acquire 
 
 * Bishop Samuel Wilberforce, I think. 
 
 t An edition of the Sanscrit text of the story of " Nala " was pub- 
 lished by Professor Monier Williams in 1860, side by side with my 
 father's metrical translation, to which the Professor, referring, says : 
 "The author has himself kindly taken the trouble to improve the 
 present version, and has adapted it so closely to the new text that 
 line answers to line with surprising fidelity." 
 
 J Preface to " Nala and Damayantf." 
 
64 "NALA AND DAMAYANTf" [CHAP. 
 
 some knowledge of the poetry of all ages and 
 nations, to examine some of the publications of 
 French and German as well as English scholars 
 on the subject of Indian poetry, chiefly those of 
 the Schlegels, of Bopp, and of De Chezy. I was 
 struck with the singularity, and captivated by the 
 extreme beauty, as it appeared to me, of some of 
 the extracts, especially those from the great epic 
 poems, the " Mahabharata" and the " Ramayana," in 
 their Homeric simplicity so totally opposite to the 
 ordinary notions entertained of all Eastern poetry. 
 I was induced to attempt, without any instruction, 
 and with the few elementary works that could be 
 procured, to obtain some knowledge of this wonder- 
 ful and mysterious language. The study grew 
 upon me, and would have been pursued with more 
 ardour, perhaps with more success, but for the 
 constant interruption of more imperative and literary 
 avocations. ... I ventured to communicate to the 
 members of the University who attended my 
 lectures my discoveries, as it were, in the unknown 
 region of Indian poetry, and to introduce transla- 
 tions of such passages as appeared to me of peculiar 
 singularity or beauty. Though I was still moving 
 in the leading-strings of my learned guides, I had 
 obtained sufficient acquaintance with the language 
 to compare their interpretations with the original 
 text. I afterwards embodied some part of my 
 lectures in an article in the Quarterly Review* in 
 order to contribute as far as was in my power 
 to open this new and almost untrodden field of 
 literature to the English reader. 
 
 In the Long Vacation of the year (1822) succeed- 
 ing his election to the Poetry Professorship, my 
 father found time for a much-longed-for visit to 
 
 * July, 1831. 
 
in.] VISIT TO ITALY 65: 
 
 Italy, his farthest point being Naples. One letter / 
 out of several which were written to his sister in 
 the course of this tour may be given, as containing 
 an amusing account of a scene in the streets of 
 Naples at which he was present : 
 
 ROME, July 2oM, 1822. 
 MY DEAR EMILY, 
 
 I suppose this letter will find you returned 
 to Pinner, I hope in as flourishing a state after your 
 short journey as I am after my long one. You 
 must not be surprised at the date of my letter, nor 
 suppose that I have been at Rome all this time. 
 I found my ambition increase as I advanced, and 
 I therefore determined on running to Naples, 
 whence I am just returned, most excessively unwill- 
 ing to leave that most enchanting place. I found 
 there the Comptons, who were more kind and 
 hospitable than I could have expected even from 
 them. I almost entirely lived with them, except a 
 day or two with the Hamiltons. The Ambassador 
 and they showed me every evening some new and 
 beautiful drive. In short, what with the rich sky, 
 the blue sea, the town and the environs, and the 
 society, I could have spent many weeks there with 
 the greatest delight. Of all odd people certainly 
 Pulcinello is the drollest and most amusing, and 
 I saw an instance of a " 'fuggi, fuggi" a new and 
 expressive term for that most discreet system of 
 retreating before an enemy for which the Neapolitans 
 are celebrated, and which in the town is followed by 
 a (( serra, serra" which means, "Shut up your shops." 
 I was present at the reception of a new Saint, or 
 rather a Beato, for he will not be Saint till the 
 next Brevet. About this same person there are 
 some singular and not over saintly stories ; but as 
 he died fifty years ago, and has passed through a 
 fair probation of miracle-making, all Naples was 
 
66 A SCENE AT NAPLES [CHAP. 
 
 poured forth to see a procession, which might have 
 been fine, in which his bones were carried to be 
 installed in the Church of the Jesuits. We (the 
 Comptons and I) were in an excellent balcony in the 
 Strada Toledo, looking down on the street paved 
 with people of all sorts. Part of the procession, 
 two or three banners and a number of boys carrying 
 flowers and some priests, had passed, when suddenly 
 " Fuggi, fuggi ! " was the cry. And never was word 
 of command better obeyed : for off they all scam- 
 pered at least all who did not tumble over each 
 other procession and all ; out went the torches ; 
 down fell the flowers ; the banners were wrapped 
 round the poles ; and in an instant there remained only 
 .a few soldiers (the Austrians, on the whole, seemed 
 cool and not very suspicious) but five Neapolitan 
 soldiers actually stood their ground, no one else 
 being left in the street, and began to load their 
 muskets. This made us at first think that some 
 revolutionary movement had taken place, or some- 
 thing serious ; but before long a certain number 
 of the people returned, the broken procession began 
 to form again, when, alas! " Fuggi, fuggi! " was again 
 the cry, and three times, for no reason whatever 
 as far as we could make out, did this very droll 
 panic sweep the streets clean. His Majesty was 
 not there, or probably his royal person would not 
 have escaped the contagion, as on a former occasion, 
 with great naivete, he allowed that he had a con- 
 siderable paura, adding, "Anch' io son Napolitano." 
 As for what I have seen, I have been in such a 
 state of continued motion that I have had no time 
 to make any journal or to write at all, excepting 
 certain mystical notes for memoranda in my guide- 
 books. I arrived in Rome three days before the 
 illumination of St. Peter's, which of all sights 
 which I ever saw or ever could imagine is the 
 most splendid, sufficient to repay all the heat 
 
in.] SUMMARY OF TOUR 67 
 
 and fatigue which I have gone through. Indeed, 
 as to the first, nothing that I have since endured 
 has been at all equal to the two days at Paris, and 
 we find that the thermometer has been as high 
 in London as in Rome. The only thing which I 
 have been obliged to give up with great regret has 
 been Paestum ; but it required three days, which I 
 could not spare ; and the malaria of the morning 
 and evening, which is there I really believe a serious 
 cause for alarm at this time of the year, and the 
 tremendous heat of the middle of the day on those 
 barren and treeless plains, made it impossible to 
 go there. With this exception, I have seen or 
 hope to see almost everything worth notice in 
 Italy. There are only two considerable towns, 
 Pisa and Mantua, which I cannot bring into my 
 route. Here I stay only two or three days to recruit 
 after my journey of twenty-six hours from Naples, 
 and to see a few things which remain. Hence I go 
 to Florence, where I have not been yet, and where 
 I hope to find letters : after that Venice, Verona 
 to Milan, Milan to Genoa, if time remains, and 
 home over the Mont Cenis. 
 
 My love to my Lady, and tell her that I rather 
 longed to see her basking in the evening sun in 
 some of the lovely valleys near Naples, inhaling 
 the scent of myrtle and orange flowers, and looking 
 over most richly wooded declivities to the bay, which 
 is the most picturesque in its form possible. Re- 
 member me to all friends ; love to William, and 
 tell him that he has been as hot as I. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 H. H. M. 
 
 My servant turns out excellent, active, honest, 
 and studying my interest and comfort in every- 
 thing. 
 
 Many years were to elapse before my father 
 
68 PAROCHIAL WORK [CHAP. 
 
 had another opportunity of gratifying his love of 
 foreign travel and of art by visiting the great 
 Continental galleries. But so much of the time 
 that could properly be spared from his professional 
 obligations was taken up by his engagements at 
 Oxford, and by frequent, almost necessary visits 
 to London, then a somewhat tedious coach journey 
 of several hours, that little leisure remained for 
 more distant excursions. It is indeed true that, 
 in the earlier years of this century, the time of the 
 parochial clergy was not so exhaustingly occupied, 
 as now, by the duty of providing for an ^~^riVrl 
 and a constant succession of daily servicco. A H 
 this respect we are other, possibly better, than our 
 fathers. Still, the claims upon the time of one 
 who was ever ready to advise, to console, to take 
 a leading part in every effort to improve the in- 
 tellectual and moral condition of his parishioners 
 and of the town in which his lot was cast, were 
 incessant ; and to these duties all others were 
 subsidiary. But it is just this hourly performance 
 of the " trivial round, the common task," that 
 neither seeks nor can have a record. This only 
 may be said : that whatever my father s hand found 
 to do, he did it with all his might. 
 
 If tempted, then, indeed almost forced, to deal 
 more exclusively with the literary and social 
 aspect of my father's diversified pursuits, it should 
 never be forgotten that these were for many years 
 grounded upon and subordinate to absorbing pro- 
 fessional duties. Sparkling with wit and humour, 
 
HI.] RADICALISM AT READING 69 
 
 full of spirits and energy, yet always a conscientious 
 and hard-working parish priest, the circle of the 
 Vicar's attached friends and admirers in the town, 
 in the surrounding neighbourhood, drawn from all 
 classes, from all parties, was ever widening. No 
 doubt the work was at times rather uphill]: for there 
 was in Reading a strong infusion of Radicalism, 
 never friendly to the Church ; and in the years 
 immediately preceding the Reform Bill popular 
 opinion was easily excited on occasions worthy 
 and also unworthy such, for instance, as that 
 which- was afforded by the trial of Queen Caroline. 
 The occasionally somewhat amusing excitement 
 engendered by this unfortunate trial is illustrated 
 in the following extracts : 
 
 VICARAGE, ST. MARY'S, 1820. 
 
 We are going to attempt to fan the lurking 
 embers of loyalty in this town of Radical darkness, 
 and intend blazing forth in a loyal declaration. 
 The bellows of my zeal have been employed in 
 puffing the flame ; it is lucky, therefore, that 
 illuminations are over, or my windows might not 
 escape so well. We had a Radical meeting, where 
 
 my friend Mr. figured, and, like John Cam 
 
 Hobhouse, to display his travelled knowledge, he 
 said that the Swiss peasant girls wore shockingly 
 short petticoats ; therefore there could be no harm 
 in anything the Queen had done. A humorous 
 gentleman followed, who gave a very merry account 
 of how our ancestors now and then cut off kings' 
 and archbishops' heads. So much for Reading 
 news. The only good new anecdote which I have 
 heard is one, seriously and gravely told me, of 
 
70 TRIAL OF QUEEN CAROLINE [CHAP. 
 
 which Michael Angelo Taylor* is the hero. He 
 expressed his regret at being obliged to leave 
 London. " Indeed," he added, " I am seriously dis- 
 appointed. I did think that before this the King 
 would have sent for me, and that he would have 
 said, ' Michael, it is time that you and I should 
 end our differences.' What am I to do?" Now, 
 really, how the King can so wickedly disappoint 
 little Michael, or how these pertinacious Ministers 
 can obstinately stay in after Sir Claudius Hunter f 
 has told them to go, is surprising. As he modestly 
 said, " I thought it my duty they might consider 
 it presumptuous, but I really could not help telling 
 the Ministers the only thing they have now to do 
 is to give up their places." 
 
 And writing again on October 25th : 
 
 We are flat enough. Everybody is too tired 
 of her gracious Majesty to talk of her, and yet 
 she almost debars us from any other topic. How 
 very cleverly Brougham has managed the whole, 
 wanting every witness who could not come, and 
 contriving to be prevented adducing the proofs 
 that witnesses have been suborned ! He justifies 
 the story which he himself tells of her Majesty : 
 " She says she has two friends : one a very honest 
 fellow and a great fool that's Alderman Wood ; 
 the other a very clever fellow and a great rogue 
 that's me." 
 
 In the month of May, 1824, my father was 
 
 married to Mary Anne, younger daughter of 
 
 \ Lieutenant-General William Cockell to her to 
 
 * Michael Angelo Taylor, M.P., known by the sobriquet of Chicken 
 Taylor, of whose pomposity many laughable stories are told. See 
 Lord Campbell's " Lives of the Chancellors," vii. 405. 
 
 t Lord Mayor of London, 181 1. 
 

 K 
 \ & 
 
 ci 
 
HI.] MARRIAGE 71 
 
 whom he afterwards dedicated the collected edition 
 of his poems, as having made " the poetry of life 
 reality." And so indeed she did. The marriage 
 was a singularly happy one. Sorrows, hereafter 
 alluded to, came of course, overshadowing their 
 happiness for a time. But whatever befell seemed 
 only to draw them closer together. Our mother's 
 regular features and fine figure were animated by 
 a gentle dignity. Her ready sympathy and singular 
 sweetness of disposition, to which all harsh judgments 
 seemed strange and improbable, won her many 
 friends, high-born, accomplished, or homely. She 
 was one of those whose name was rarely mentioned 
 without the prefix " dear." Unaffected piety, with- 
 out any profession, made bright a life to which all 
 things grave and beautiful were matters of enjoy- 
 ment, something to be thankful for. A complete 
 congruity of sentiment made her entire devotion 
 to her husband not less perfect, because it was 
 inevitable. 
 
 Our grandfather, General Cockell, was a fine 
 old soldier who had served his country all over 
 the world. In truth, he was a born soldier. As 
 a boy he used to drill the village lads, forming 
 them into companies, and marching them over the 
 country. When he could not prevail upon his 
 parents to part with their only surviving son, he 
 stole away and enlisted as a private soldier ; nor, 
 until after his arrival in Canada, did he communicate 
 with those at home. His father then gave way, 
 obtained his discharge, and bought him his first 
 
72 LIEUT.-GENERAL WILLIAM COCKELL [CHAP. 
 
 commission in the 2nd Queen's Regiment in 1782. 
 Later, in 1793, he was Captain; then successively 
 Major and Lieutenant-Colonel in the iO5th Foot, 
 a newly raised regiment, which was disbanded at 
 the Peace of Amiens. He became Lieutenant- 
 Colonel of the 46th Foot 1800, of the 5th Fusileers 
 1802, and was at the Cape of Good Hope with 
 the rank of Brigadier-General 1 806-10. Here 
 General Cockell attained his highest position that 
 of Acting Governor of the Cape, when, as Com- 
 mandant of the Forces, he occupied Government 
 House in the absence of the Governor, and ad- 
 ministered the affairs of the Colony, already so 
 important by its position on the old high-road to 
 India. He was Lieutenant-General 1814, and 
 died Governor of Edinburgh Castle in 1831. His 
 last years were passed at Sandleford Lodge, 
 near Newbury, one of those lovely " silent woody 
 places " only to be found in England, with its bright 
 stream crossing the road, and a little wooden bridge 
 for foot-passengers the grand trees of the Priory 
 (then the property of Lord Rokeby) on one side 
 of the hollow, and the modest approach to the 
 Lodge on the other. It was here my father wooed 
 the beautiful daughter of the old soldier. 
 
 For the most exciting incident in my grand- 
 father's career an incident perhaps worth pre- 
 serving we must, however, go back to 1796, as 
 it happened on the occasion of General Hoche's 
 attempted invasion of Ireland, so imprudently 
 deferred until midwinter. That able general did 
 
in.] AN ADVENTURE IN IRELAND 73 
 
 not, it will be remembered, sail from Brest until 
 December i5th. His fleet consisted of seventeen 
 sail of the line, thirteen frigates, and, with the 
 addition of corvettes and transports, carried fifteen 
 thousand French troops. Admiral Bouvet and 
 General Grouchy actually arrived on the 22nd at 
 Bear Island, at the mouth of Bantry Bay, with 
 half the troops, seven sail of the line, and ten other 
 vessels. At that time young Cockell was on the 
 staff of General Sir James Duff, who had a com- 
 mand in the south-west of Ireland. On the advent 
 of this grave news the General and his Aide-de- 
 camp set off in advance of the troops in a carriage, 
 escorted by a troop of dragoons, to ascertain the 
 real position of affairs. After passing through 
 Kenmare, they had to traverse the wild mountain 
 tract that separates that estuary from Bantry Bay. 
 Pressing on through the night, they were caught 
 in the same wild snowstorm that prevented 
 Admiral Bouvet from penetrating up the lough. In 
 the darkness they missed the rough track. The 
 carriage fell over a cliff] and the horses were killed. 
 Rendered alert by the unusual jolting, the General 
 and his Aide-de-camp sprang out just in time, and 
 escaped with a few bruises. They then dismounted 
 two of the dragoons, took their horses, and hurried 
 on through the darkness. Day dawned as they 
 were descending on to the shore, when they were 
 not a little relieved to find neither a considerable 
 force of French soldiers to be reconnoitred, nor 
 bands of insurgent peasantry, but only an angry 
 
74 ADMIRAL BOUVET [CHAP. 
 
 cock to salute them with belligerent Growings. 
 Discouraged by the non-arrival of the rest of the 
 expedition, and fearful lest the wind should veer 
 to the south-west, Admiral Bouvet, who had already 
 found it difficult to maintain his position, had dis- 
 regarded the entreaties of the soldiers to be set on 
 shore, and had stood out to sea, not regaining the 
 harbour of Brest without the loss of five ships. 
 
iv.] REVIEWER AND CRITIC 75 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Quarterly Review Appreciation of Gifford Letter to Cole- 
 ridge on Editorship A Frequent Contributor "History of the 
 Jews "Outcry against Thirty Years after Edition of Gibbon. 
 
 A FEW reminiscences of my father as scholar 
 and poet have been given in the two 
 previous chapters ; his work as an historian will 
 subsequently be approached. Before speaking, 
 however, of the " History of the Jews," the first 
 in order of his historical works, it seems advisable 
 to make some mention of his connection with the 
 Quarterly Review, to the pages of which he was 
 at one time a constant, at all times a valued 
 contributor. A full list of these contributions, 
 embracing a wide variety of matter, would run to 
 great length. The first of them, upon " Italian 
 Tragedy," appeared in the October number of the / 
 Review, 1820; the last, an essay upon "Pagan 
 and Christian Sepulchres," more than forty years 
 years later, in July, 1865. Of Mr. Gifford, the first 
 editor of the Review, for whom as a young man 
 his first work was done, my father always enter- 
 tained a kindly recollection. 
 
 I heard [he writes to Mr. Murray, under date 
 of January 5th, 1827], with that regret which all 
 
76 MR. GIFFORD [CHAP. 
 
 must have felt who had an opportunity of ap- 
 preciating his character, the account of Gilford's 
 death. You may well say and appeal to the 
 Quarterly that his place is not likely to be filled 
 by his equal. Many knew his uncommon critical 
 sagacity, his peculiar judgment, and his felicity in 
 striking off character with a few satirical touches ; 
 but his kindness to young authors whose talents 
 and principles he admired, and his social qualities, 
 are known to comparatively few. 
 
 And in an earlier letter to Coleridge : 
 
 Your account of poor Gifford is melancholy. I 
 agree with you fully in the kindness of his manner, 
 which certainly was singularly contrasted with the 
 bitterness of his satire. To me he was always 
 extremely obliging, and indeed in some respects 
 exceedingly useful. 
 
 Mr. Gifford did not formally resign the editorship 
 till the close of 1824 ; but at least two years pre- 
 viously it had become evident, from the state of 
 his health, that his retirement could not be long 
 postponed, and there was naturally much speculation 
 as to the person who would be chosen to succeed 
 him. So far back as 1822 it appears to have been 
 confidently rumoured, though the announcement 
 was premature, that the appointment had been 
 accepted by Mr. John Taylor Coleridge, whose 
 claims had been urged by Southey ; and that my 
 father seems to have taken the news as authentic 
 is shown by the following letter to Coleridge, in 
 which he refers to the appointment as if it had 
 been completed, and makes, with offers of assistance, 
 
iv.] "THE QUARTERLY REVIEW" 77 
 
 some general observations as to the manner in 
 which the conduct of the Review might in some 
 respects be improved : 
 
 OXFORD, December $rd, 1822. 
 
 MY DEAR COLERIDGE, 
 
 I hear with much pleasure that the Quarterly 
 Review is likely to devolve to your care, and should 
 have written to you on the subject, even had not 
 a paragraph in the Morning Chronicle of yesterday 
 assigning it to me rather accelerated my communi- / 
 cation. For my own part I have long felt, and 
 expressed myself in the spring to Reginald Heber 
 on the point, that no clergyman ought at the present 
 juncture to be placed in the situation. In these days 
 it is our duty not to force ourselves into situations 
 where the obloquy which must fall upon every one 
 who, however conscientiously, intermingles himself 
 with politics will spread abroad over our whole 
 body. The clergy must not unnecessarily seek 
 unpopularity. Neither would my personal situation 
 or inclinations lead me without a great effort to 
 sacrifice the time necessary for such an occupation. 
 I am conscious of stealing as much, or more perhaps 
 than I ought, of both time and labour for my own 
 pursuits from my profession, and could not justify 
 myself in adding this new avocation to my present. 
 And even putting conscientious motives out of the 
 question, I should extremely doubt the prudence of 
 such a measure from a worldly point of view. 
 Political partizanship, which, however fairly or un- 
 fairly, will always be attributed to the editor of such 
 a journal, will in the present day be rather in the 
 way of advancement in my profession than favour 
 it ; and though at present I feel singularly indifferent 
 upon such subjects, circumstances may occur which 
 might make me deeply regret the having engaged 
 in any occupation which should interfere with my 
 
78 EDITORSHIP OF THE "QUARTERLY" [CHAP. 
 
 promotion. Not that at present I have any imme- 
 diate views of such a nature ; yet every man may 
 look forward to a wife and family, which will make 
 it a duty to advance himself as far as he is able by 
 fair and conscientious means. You will, perhaps, 
 be making some professional sacrifice, but still the 
 usefulness of the situation will more than com- 
 pensate for that ; and if your legal business should 
 rapidly increase, it will then be time to confine 
 yourself to that alone ; and by a skilful management 
 of your time I do not doubt that at present you 
 may reconcile the two avocations. For my own 
 part I hope you will make no scruple in employing 
 me in whatever may lighten your labours. In- 
 dependent of personal contributions which perhaps 
 I am not presumptuous in supposing may be 
 occasionally acceptable within certain limits, to which 
 I have hitherto and hope still to confine myself if 
 by sending down to me papers on particular sub- 
 jects (foreign literature, for instance), or others in my 
 own professional department, I can (quite privately 
 between ourselves) save you time or trouble, you 
 may depend upon my rendering you all the assistance 
 which my abilities and judgment can afford. I make 
 this offer partly from the desire of serving you, 
 partly from the conviction which I feel of the very 
 high national importance of a work which has so 
 entirely the public ear, and which may do more for 
 sound taste, sound principle, and sound opinions, 
 both political and religious, than any work or journal 
 extant. Perhaps it may improve in your hands by 
 a more decided tone on certain points on which I 
 believe we feel together, and perhaps by a little less 
 personality than it has occasionally indulged in. 
 After all this, shall I make you laugh or make you 
 angry if I presume to insinuate that hitherto general 
 good sense without paradox has been the chief 
 cause of the success of the Review ? And if you will 
 
iv.] MR. J. G. LOCKHART 79 
 
 prove " Peter Bell " and " Benjamin" to be poetry, 
 not even the authority of the Quarterly will enable 
 you to prohibit the smile which the greater part, and 
 perhaps not the least read, of the world will put on. 
 I do not mean to assume the French lady's in- 
 fallibility who said, " II n'y a que moi qui a toujours 
 raison," but I am pretty sure I am right on this 
 point. 
 
 After little more than a year Mr. Coleridge, 
 owing to the rapid increase of his business at the 
 Bar, was compelled to resign his position as editor of 
 the Quarterly ; and as soon as the new arrangements j 
 could be carried out, Mr. Lockhart reigned in his j 
 stead. Milman and Lockhart were contemporaries, 
 and had taken their degree in the same year at 
 Oxford. Their early acquaintance soon ripened 
 into a friendship, which remained unbroken from 
 the time that Mr. Lockhart came to London to 
 take up his appointment as editor, till his death 
 in 1854. On literary projects and on matters con- 
 nected with the Review they were in constant 
 correspondence, and Mr. Lockhart seems also on 
 several occasions to have served as the channel of 
 communication between Mr. John Murray and my 
 father, when the former, by illness or from press 
 of business, was glad to avail himself of Lockhart's 
 assistance. 
 
 So many references to the relation between these 
 three men have already appeared in the " Memoir 
 and Correspondence of the late John Murray," by 
 Mr. Smiles, and in Mr. Andrew Lang's " Life of A 
 J. G. Lockhart," that further to dwell upon it could 
 
80 A FREQUENT CONTRIBUTOR [CHAP. 
 
 not but involve an undesirable repetition, even 
 though some additional details should prove in- 
 teresting. On one point only a final word may be 
 added. My father's connection with the Quarterly 
 Review was not a secret that, even if desired, could 
 be hidden ; and being himself of some fame as a 
 writer, as well as an ardent lover, of poetry, it was 
 not unnatural that articles upon contemporary poets 
 which made some sensation in their day should 
 have been attributed to his pen. "Who," asks 
 Lord Byron : 
 
 " Who kill'd John Keats ? " 
 
 "I," says the Quarterly, 
 
 So savage and Tartarly ; 
 " 'Twas one of my feats." 
 
 "Who shot the arrow?" 
 \ "The poet-priest Milman 
 
 (So ready to kill man), 
 Or Southey, or Barrow." 
 
 Whoever else shot the arrow, certainly Milman 
 did not ; nor, as is now generally allowed, was 
 Keats killed by it. There was a similar mis- 
 leading speculation as to the authorship of the 
 review of " Alastor." 
 
 The article on " Alastor " in the Quarterly Review 
 was at first attributed to Southey (whom Shelley 
 had known and liked) ; but that proved untrue. 
 | It was then imputed to Milman, and Shelley de- 
 nounced it as the work of an angry priest. Milman, 
 with admirable magnanimity, never repelled the 
 charge, though in fact few men were more keenly 
 alive to Shelley's genius. We now learn, after all, 
 that this much-contested article was the work of 
 
iv.] MACAULAY'S TOMAHAWK STYLE 8 1 
 
 Mr. Coleridge not the poet, but his nephew, 
 whom we have all known in calmer times as the 
 venerable, amiable, and accomplished Sir John 
 Taylor Coleridge, a judge and a Privy Councillor.* 
 
 There was indeed a sensitive regard for the feel- 
 ings of others in my father's disposition which would 
 in any case have made him shrink from the office 
 of critical executioner, and he expressed more than 
 once his dislike of what he called the " savage 
 tomahawk style" of Macaulay's review of Robert , 
 Montgomery, though in the main he considered 
 him quite right. 
 
 The less you have to do [he writes to Mr. 
 Murray] with Mr. Robert Montgomery the better : 
 he is not of your tribe of authors. The present 
 poem is more full of examples of the Bathos or the 
 Art of Sinking in Poetry than I have seen for some 
 time ; nor is there any real genius, in my opinion, 
 to redeem it. He sometimes lashes himself into 
 bombast, which I have no doubt that he and some 
 of his critics who have been bepraising him think 
 vastly sublime. I dislike the savage tomahawk 
 style of Macaulay, but in the main he is quite in /- 
 the right, and this poor youth's talking about 
 11 assassins " and other such hard words only shows 
 his own feebleness. 
 
 But if what is sometimes described as a " slash- 
 ing article " was abhorrent to his nature, no induce- 
 ment of friendship could tempt him to dishonest 
 praise. Pressed by his friend Harness to review 
 
 * Quoted from the Edinburgh Review, vol. clvi., p. 432, 
 
 6 
 
82 CRITICAL HONESTY [CHAP. 
 
 one of Miss Mitford's plays Charles /. for the 
 -J Quarterly, he answers, July, 1834 : 
 
 I have taken so great a liking to Miss Mitford, 
 that for her sake, still more, much more as your 
 friend, I would do much to serve her. But I have 
 read the play twice over, and really cannot see how 
 a case is to be made out for the Quarterly. It 
 may act well ; but to the reader it is so pretty and 
 womanish, so far below the magnificence of the 
 subject, that it would do her more harm than good 
 to attempt to praise where the extracts will not 
 justify. I cannot write excepting when I am really 
 seriously in earnest in my admiration. This critical 
 honesty stands much in my way, but it is a part 
 of my nature. 
 
 In later life, and when his whole time was oc- 
 cupied by the Histories of Christianity, contributions 
 to the Review became more rare. His articles 
 embrace a wide variety of matter, critical, literary, 
 biographical, historical. Some of them, of course, 
 deal with questions and books of passing interest ; 
 others contain sketches of persons and events which 
 were afterwards embodied in a more finished state 
 in the histories. But again, towards the close of his 
 life, when the completion of the " History of Latin 
 Christianity " had restored him to comparative 
 leisure, he took pleasure in renewing his old con- 
 nection with the Review, and in occasionally writing 
 essays on any subject in which he happened to be 
 particularly interested. A selection of these later 
 articles, with the addition of a few of earlier date, 
 were reprinted, after the author's death, in a volume 
 
iv.] "HISTORY OF THE JEWS" 83 
 
 with the title, " Savonarola, Erasmus, and other 
 Essays." 
 
 It is scarcely possible to speak of the " History of 
 the Jews," my father's first historical work, without 
 referring to the tempest of disapprobation with 
 which the book was received in orthodox circles 
 on its first appearance, and to the obloquy with 
 which its author was assailed. But this part 
 of the subject may be dealt with all the more 
 briefly as the story has been already told in the 
 " Memoir of John Murray," in which much of 
 the correspondence between the author and his 
 publisher is also given. The volumes had been 
 written as part of the Family Library, an interest- 
 ing and useful series undertaken by Mr. Murray 
 for reasons which are partly stated in a letter from 
 Lockhart to Milman (July I7th, 1828), inviting his 
 assistance, at the request of Mr. Murray, in carrying 
 out the scheme : 
 
 I enclose Mr. Murray's acknowledgment of your 
 paper in the last Quarterly Review. Your essay, from 
 all I have heard, is a favourite. Mr. Southey says 
 that it is admirable in every way. You have seen, 
 I doubt not, the biographies and histories of the 
 Society for the Propagation of Useful Knowledge ; 
 and if you have, you must agree with me that these 
 diligent gentlemen are making a paltry, and are 
 desirous of making a dangerous, invasion on the 
 departments of public instruction which will ever 
 be the most attractive. It has occurred to some 
 people of another way of thinking, that a series of 
 cheap volumes of biography and history, written 
 in another spirit, but very calmly and temperately, 
 
84 THE FAMILY LIBRARY [CHAP. 
 
 might be of great benefit to those who cannot 
 buy expensive treatises, and who are now offered 
 cheap ones by Mr. Brougham. Arrangements have 
 already made some progress. Sir W. Scott, Southey, 
 Palgrave, and various others have agreed to con- 
 tribute their aid, and I now write to ask if there is 
 any chance of your coming into the scheme likewise. 
 What say you to a volume about the History of the 
 Jewish People ? Surely it might be made more 
 entertaining than any romance, and really useful 
 besides. This is what Mr. Murray and his friends 
 now in this room ask me to propose to you ; but 
 any subject chosen by you, whether history or 
 biography, would, I am sure, meet all their wishes. 
 
 And then follow some further details as to the 
 terms and mode of publication. The proposal was 
 accepted, and my father was for some months 
 occupied in the task that he had undertaken, setting 
 to work with characteristic energy, but with some 
 misgivings, and complaining to his friend Harness of 
 the difficulty which he found in dealing with the 
 subject exhaustively, from want of easy access to a 
 public library. 
 
 ST. MARY'S, July i6/>&, 1829. 
 
 I really am at work, but with what success I 
 scarcely dare anticipate. Murray asked me to write 
 the " History of the Jews " for his biographies. 
 I blindly assented, thinking the affair very plain 
 and straightforward ; but you have no conception 
 of the difficulty of finding a guide or authorities 
 among the countless writers on the subject. I must 
 confess that I think the subject has been fertile in 
 nonsense ; but, unhappily, much of the nonsense is 
 sainted and canonized, and I suspect wise heads 
 
iv.] LETTER FROM LOCKHART 85 
 
 will be shaken at my views. Keep, therefore, my 
 secret, though a secret in Murray's keeping is about 
 as safe as one entrusted to that worthy and sonorous 
 person the town-crier. . . . To return to my Jews. 
 The subject is singularly interesting ; but it is difficult 
 to manage either that or my Greek Poetry, which 
 I am very anxious to complete, without a public 
 library. I am never satisfied till I get to the bottom, 
 and sometimes the said bottom is somewhere beyond 
 the depths of our knowledge, and sometimes one 
 comes plump upon it when least expected. 
 
 The first instalment of the work was ready by the 
 end of the year, and was followed at no long interval 
 by the remainder. Writing on December 6th, Mr. 
 Lockhart says : 
 
 I perceive your Jews are now fast approaching 
 completion. It is a splendid book, but some wise 
 folks shake their heads at some passages touching 
 miracles. A few sentences would have disarmed 
 them, and will no doubt do so in the next edition. 
 I have been suggesting to Murray that your most 
 efficient method might be to write a " History of 
 Christianity " in the same form, and I sincerely 
 hope you will smile on this proposal. But the 
 Quarterly is very much in need of your aid, and 
 that must be my chief concern. I do not mean 
 that we are falling off. On the contrary, Murray 
 says the Review has now regained all it had lost at 
 one period. But we are in danger of becoming a 
 little too businesslike, and want grievously the grace 
 from time to time of a pen like yours discoursing 
 eloquent music. 
 
 Heads wise or unwise had indeed been shaken. 
 A wild storm of disapproval gathered, burst, and 
 
86 OUTCRY AGAINST THE HISTORY [CHAP. 
 
 Sunday after Sunday Milman was denounced from 
 University and other pulpits in most unmeasured 
 language, in language to which we have since un- 
 happily become too well accustomed, as holding 
 heretical opinions, as a most dangerous and per- 
 nicious writer. Bishops, some of whom at least 
 had at first been favourable and friendly, suddenly 
 became cold, became hostile, averted their faces, 
 lifted up their hands. If even now we, who 
 live in times so changed, feel surprised, as my 
 father was surprised, by this wild outcry, it must 
 be remembered that an historical or a scientific 
 method of dealing with the documentary records 
 of religious history was then a startling novelty to 
 the mass of pious minds in England, and that the 
 " History of the Jews," to use the words of Dean 
 Stanley,* 
 
 was the first decisive inroad of German theology 
 JL into England : the first palpable indication that the 
 Bible could be studied like another book ; that the 
 characters and events of the sacred history could 
 be treated at once critically and reverently. Those 
 who were but children at the time can remember 
 the horror created in remote rural districts by the 
 rumour that a book had appeared in which Abraham 
 was described as a " sheikh.". 
 
 The bitterness of feeling that prevailed in some 
 quarters may be measured by this extract from a 
 ^ letter written by the Rev. H. Drury, one of the 
 masters at Harrow, to Archdeacon S. Butler f : 
 
 * " Essays on Church and State," p. 576. 
 
 t " Life and Letters of Dr. Samuel Butler," i. 361. 
 
iv.] DENOUNCED AS AN IMPIOUS BOOK 87 
 
 I read your charge with great delight ; 'twas 
 exactly what I should have liked to have heard, and 
 to have seen in its effects on the sour visages of 
 the " serious." I do not wonder they endeavoured 
 to resent such home truths. The same spirit rages 
 sadly among us. I had introduced Milman's " History 
 of the Jews " to read with Paley's " Evidences " every 
 Sunday morning. I found it gave sacred history 
 and geography in such an entertaining manner that 
 it riveted the attention of my boys surprisingly. 
 
 This is daily denounced to Longley by Mr. , as 
 
 Cunningham's mouthpiece, as " an impious book," 
 "a gross misrepresentation of the Word of God," 
 "an attempt to introduce German scepticism," and 
 what not of all which Milman is as innocent as 
 I am, and he has had the highest testimonials of 
 praise and thanks from the first members of the 
 High Church. 
 
 The general attitude of this party may be in- 
 ferred from the following letters, written at the 
 time by my father : 
 
 To JOHN MURRAY, ESQ. 
 
 ST. MARY'S, READING, March gth, 1830. 
 The measure which you propose [printing extracts 
 from the Family Bible and the History in parallel 
 columns] has, as you may conceive, passed through 
 my mind, but for many considerations I think that 
 it would be highly objectionable. In the New 
 Edition, in the first note on a passage relating 
 to a miracle, I have inserted these words : " The 
 author finds upon reference that the authorities 
 quoted by the learned Editors of the Family 
 Bible on this and many similar points concur 
 with his own view." This is a fair warning, but 
 a direct attempt to divert the attack by bringing 
 forward the Family Bible would offend many 
 
88 THE HIGH CHURCH PARTY [CHAP. 
 
 persons with whom I do not wish to join issue. 
 As yet the High Church party, at least all the 
 
 ~j better order, have stood aloof. The fanatics would 
 like nothing better than to have an opportunity 
 of turning the clamour against the Family Bible. 
 They hate the book ; they do not love the Christian 
 Knowledge Society, and would be delighted to 
 have passages pointed out on which they might 
 raise an outcry as they have against me. This 
 would exasperate the High Church party, who 
 might think it necessary to take part against me, 
 though holding much the same opinions. At all 
 events, such a measure should be reserved till 
 actually called for. I am greatly mistaken if there 
 is not a strong reaction in favour of the book. For 
 my own part, I have reconsidered the whole subject ; 
 I have corrected the few points on which I have 
 expressed myself somewhat too strongly ; and am 
 convinced, not merely that I am in the right, but 
 that all reasonable persons think me so, and that the 
 crowd will follow. The public mind cannot go back 
 it will go on ; and on the few points on which I 
 have advanced beyond it, it will soon catch me up. 
 Religion must be defended, as I have defended it, 
 
 A and as (my Preface will tell them this) Paley did so 
 before me. 
 
 And writing to Mr. Lockhart on the 2Qth of the 
 same month, he says : 
 
 Now for those ungracious Jews. I should be 
 very sorry for personal reasons to be attacked by 
 Benson,* as we have always been very good friends ; 
 but I might be in much more formidable hands 
 Le Bas', for instance, f Benson is in the pulpit 
 
 * Rev. Christopher Benson, Canon ,of Worcester and Master of 
 the Temple. 
 
 t Rev. Charles Webb Le Bas, Prebendary of Lincoln, afterwards 
 ~\ Principal of the East Indian College, Haileybury. 
 
iv.] DR. GODFREY FAUSSETT 89 
 
 almost unrivalled, but neither strong in argument 
 nor learning. I have received an intimation from a 
 high University quarter (not intended, I believe, to 
 reach me) that I should reply to Faussett. I have 
 written to Oxford to know what the feeling is there. 
 I suspect I shall not mend the matter much with 
 the High Church party ; for if I speak, I will speak 
 calmly, but speak out. If I am at a discount with 
 the Bishops, I am not with the booksellers. I have 
 received a proposal from Dr. Lardner ; and, really, 
 he offers such good company that it is tempting. I 
 suppose by the names in both that there is no 
 rivalry between the two concerns.* 
 
 At his own University, Oxford, the attack had 
 been led by the Margaret Professor of Divinity, Dr. 
 Faussett,! a weak antagonist for whom my father 
 had no intention of breaking the dignified rule of 
 silence which, secure in the rectitude of his in- 
 tentions and the general accuracy of his views, he 
 had adopted. 
 
 You will perhaps [he writes to Mr. Murray] be 
 anxious to know my opinion upon the pamphlet 
 you have sent me from Godfrey Faussett. Probably 
 you have sent the accompanying sheets of the first 
 volume in case I should wish to make any alteration. 
 
 * See >?.?/, p. 99. 
 
 t Mr. Christopher Earle used often to relate how, occupying the 
 box seat on the Oxford and Evesham coach on a Monday morning 
 after one of Dr. Faussett' s sermons on the Sunday, the coachman 
 turned to him and said, "I hope, sir, you were at the University 
 sermon yesterday"; and how, when he had pleaded his inability 
 to get there, Jehu said, " Oh, sir, what a pity ! Dr. Faussett was 
 great, sir. He did give it that Mr. Milman. He said, sitand I 
 am sure it is true that ' since the days of Julian the Apostate 
 there has not risen a greater enemy to Christianity than Mr. 
 Milman.' " 
 
90 THE LANGUAGE OF THE COUNTRY [CHAP. 
 
 The sermon is feeble for a man in his situation 
 miserably so. I always expressed myself as having 
 a very mean estimate of his abilities, and am only 
 confirmed in my judgment. He has barely noticed 
 the more vulnerable points of the work, and huddled 
 them up with others where he is so palpably ignorant, 
 that I should think he will hardly make any im- 
 pression even among the undergraduates at Oxford. 
 To these undergraduates I shall leave him, and not 
 take the slightest notice of his lucubrations. I 
 should not wonder if some of that wicked tribe 
 should amuse themselves by a reply, to which many 
 of them would be fully equal. I am only anxious 
 that the first volume should reappear as speedily 
 as possible. I have altered every point on which 
 men of sense could fix an objection. For such 
 objections as the greater part of this worthy's, 
 the quiet reference to the Family Bible will be 
 rather a damper. It is really deplorable that a man 
 in his situation should be so miserably ignorant as 
 to the state of Biblical criticism. Half the points 
 on which he attacks me have been settled by most 
 men of learning for a century. 
 
 As to the virulence of Dr. Faussett's language, 
 the editor of Gibbon may have felt as did Gibbon 
 himself, who fifty years earlier, alluding to a sermon 
 by Dr. White, Professor of Hebrew, preached in 
 the pulpit of St. Mary's, says : 
 
 If he assaults me with some degree of illiberal 
 acrimony in such a place and before such an 
 audience, "he was obliged to speak the language of 
 the country." 
 
 A pertinent saying of Professor Agassiz is quoted 
 by Sir Charles Lyell, which, though uttered in 
 
iv.] AN AMERICAN HISTORIAN 9 1 
 
 relation to the discovery of new facts in science, is 
 not the less applicable where methods of dealing 
 with the origin and growth of religions are employed 
 more scientific than those to which ordinary readers 
 have been accustomed. First they say " it is not 
 true " ; then, that it is " contrary to religion " ; and 
 at last, that " every one knew it before." We are 
 slowly approaching the final stage, and many views 
 of religious history which fifty years ago would 
 have roused a bitter controversy are now accepted 
 without question. My father shared the common 
 fate of almost all pioneers in a new country of all 
 whose writings are in advance of the average 
 thought of their age ; but time does justice, and 
 under the circumstances I may perhaps be permitted 
 to cite the judgment of a recent American historian, 
 Mr. Andrew Dickson White, who in a very re- 
 markable work, " History of the Warfare of Science /- 
 and Theology," thus refers to the subject. After 
 explaining how the place of myth in history became 
 more and more understood, and how historical 
 foundations, so far at least as secular history was 
 concerned, were henceforth dealt with in a scientific 
 spirit, he continues : 
 
 The extension of this new treatment to all ancient 
 literature and history was now simply a work of 
 time. 
 
 And he adds : 
 
 Such an extension had already begun, for in 
 1829 had appeared Milman's " History of the Jews.'* 
 
92 WARFARE OF SCIENCE AND THEOLOGY [CHAP. 
 
 In this work came a further evolution of the truths 
 and methods suggested by Bentley, Wolf, and 
 Niebuhr, and their application to sacred history 
 was made strikingly evident. Milman, though a 
 clergyman, treated the history of the chosen people 
 in the light of modern knowledge of Oriental and 
 especially of Semitic peoples. He exhibited sundry 
 great Biblical personages of the wandering days 
 of Israel as sheikhs or emirs or Bedouin chieftains, 
 and the tribes of Israel as obedient then to the 
 same general laws, customs, and ideas governing 
 wandering tribes in the same region now. He 
 dealt with conflicting sources somewhat in the spirit 
 of Bentley, and with the mythical, legendary, and 
 miraculous somewhat in the spirit of Niebuhr. 
 This treatment of the history of the Jews, simply 
 as the development of an Oriental tribe, raised great 
 opposition. Such champions of orthodoxy as Bishop 
 Mant and Dr. Faussett straightway took the field, 
 and with such effect that the Family Library, a 
 very valuable series in which Milman's history 
 appeared, was put under the ban and its further 
 publication stopped. For years Milman, though 
 a man of exquisite literary and lofty historical gifts, 
 as well as of most honourable character, was 
 debarred from preferment and outstripped by 
 ecclesiastics vastly inferior to him in everything 
 save worldly wisdom ; for years he was passed in 
 the race for honours by divines who were content 
 either to hold briefs for all the contemporary 
 unreason which happened to be popular or to keep 
 their mouths shut altogether. This opposition to 
 him extended to his works ; for many years they 
 were sneered at, decried, and kept from the public 
 as far as possible. Fortunately the progress of 
 events lifted him before the closing years of his 
 life above all this opposition. As Dean of St. 
 Paul's he really outranked the contemporary Arch- 
 
iv.] THIRTY YEARS AFTER 93 
 
 bishops ; he lived to see his main ideas accepted, 
 and his " History of Latin Christianity" received as 
 certainly one of the most valuable and no less 
 certainly the most attractive of all Church histories 
 ever written. 
 
 After an interval of more than thirty years, Dean 
 Milman was requested and urged to publish a new 
 edition of the " History of the Jews." It was nearly 
 ready, but not yet published, when the following 
 letter was written : 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, December zgtk, 1862. 
 
 MY DEAR ARTHUR STANLEY, 
 
 I have galloped through your book.* Accept , 
 my best thanks for it. I must amble through it 
 more leisurely hereafter, and delight myself with 
 its pleasant, if winding and wandering, paths. Let 
 me first say with what deep and sincere sympathy 
 I dwelt on the first pages. Nothing can be more 
 simple, true, or touching. 
 
 Than what you write of me nothing can be more 
 gratifying. It is a singular coincidence, but some 
 one, I think old Parker the bookseller, said of the 
 "History of the Jews" : " It has appeared thirty 
 years too soon." It was published in 1829 or 1830. 
 Oxford professors then preached in St. Mary's 
 against it, and now one Oxford professor at least 
 speaks in a very different tone. I think I may 
 say that, except perhaps on one point, our opinions 
 are as nearly coincident as may be. Mine are in 
 the block, rarely wrought out ; for my book pretends 
 to be a history. Your form of lectures gives you 
 the full privilege of discursiveness (do not abuse 
 your privilege !). You have also the advantage of 
 being able to elude discussions of peculiar difficulty 
 
 * " Lectures on the Jewish Church." 
 
94 A NEW EDITION [CHAP. 
 
 and requiring that delicacy of handling which hardly 
 escapes timidity. In the notes to the book, rarely 
 in the text, I have boldly faced many of these 
 difficulties, and in the Preface, as it is now written, 
 shall speak out my mind. I think, if it is taken in a 
 right spirit, what I say may do good. At all events, 
 it is, if not positive, anti-negative. But the book 
 itself, as far as the early history is concerned, is hardly 
 increased in bulk. The field is entirely open to you. 
 The large additions (and I have been obliged to 
 limit them) are to the modern history. In your 
 own realm, the geographical or topographical, which 
 will not be the least popular, you rule alone. I 
 have done nothing, I think, beyond references to 
 Robinson and you. I wonder whether the general 
 reader will be more delighted or bewildered (some 
 will delight in being bewildered ; the stiff old school 
 will be more impatient) by your extraordinary 
 affluence and prodigality of illustration ? The one 
 point on which I disagree and rather regret is the 
 manner in which you treat the subject on which 
 you quote Carlyle. Generally speaking, I like my 
 own better. As for Carlyle, nothing seems now 
 to remain of the old Presbyterian youth but some 
 of the Balfour of Burley. His worship is exclusively 
 that of the old ^schylean /cparos KOL fiCa. Even 
 excellent Arnold had too much of the stern Puritan 
 for me. Is it not enough that the Jews were 
 barbarians, and God made them no more premature 
 Christians than premature astronomers ? 
 
 The principal additions to the new edition were, 
 as has been indicated, to the modern history ; but 
 the substance of the original work was little affected 
 by these additions and the general revision to which 
 it was submitted. The views adopted by the author 
 in early days that the only documents on which 
 
iv.] THE AUTHOR'S VIEWS UNCHANGED 95 
 
 the earlier history of the Jews rests, the Scriptures of 
 the Old Testament, must, like other historical docu- 
 ments, be submitted to calm but searching criticism 
 as to their age, their authenticity, their authorship, 
 above all their historical sense and historical inter- 
 pretation he still maintained. 
 
 These views [he writes in the admirable Preface] 
 more free, it was then thought, and bolder than 
 common, he dares to say not irreverent have been 
 his safeguard during a long and not unreflective life 
 against the difficulties arising out of the philosophical 
 and historical researches of our times ; and from 
 such views many, very many, of the best and wisest 
 men whom it has been his blessing to know with 
 greater or less intimacy have felt relief from pressing 
 doubts, and found that peace which is attainable only 
 through perfect freedom of mind. Others may have 
 the happiness (a happiness he envies not) to close 
 their eyes against, to evade, or to elude these diffi- 
 culties. Such is not the temper of his mind. With 
 these views he has been able to follow out all the 
 marvellous discoveries of science, and all those 
 hardly less marvellous, if less certain, conclusions of 
 historical, ethnological, linguistic criticism, in the 
 serene confidence that they are utterly irrelevant 
 to the truth of Christianity, to the truth of the 
 Old Testament, as far as its distinct and perpetual 
 authority and its indubitable meaning. 
 
 It is curious and instructive to observe the 
 progress that had been made during the interval 
 that elapsed between the two editions. When the 
 revised and extended edition appeared, no hostile 
 criticism had to be encountered, no attempt was 
 made to revive the worn-out indignation of former 
 
96 SERMON ON "HEBREW PROPHECY" [CHAP. 
 
 days. On the contrary, he who had once been so 
 harshly, so bitterly, denounced from the pulpit of 
 his own University was now requested, even pressed, 
 to occupy that very pulpit and to preach from it in 
 1865 the annual sermon on "Hebrew Prophecy," the 
 very subject which had once brought down upon 
 him the " thunders of academic theologians." No 
 thought of bitterness found a place in his mind. 
 He was, as Dean Stanley has written, and as the 
 writer of these lines can confirm, absorbed by far 
 other thoughts : by the kindness of the feeling which 
 prompted the request, and by the gravity of the 
 occasion on which he spoke ; conscious, too, that it 
 was his last message to the University that he had 
 loved, his last charge to the coming generation on 
 the trials and difficulties that were before them. 
 The profound impression created by the sermon is 
 thus described by Dean Stanley in a letter written to 
 Lady Augusta Stanley immediately afterwards : 
 
 The Dean's sermon is over. It was well worth 
 coming to hear and see. The old sage put forth all 
 his powers ; and although it was la voix qui louche, 
 it was just audible, and the intense stillness of the 
 hearers gave it every advantage. It was on the 
 characteristic of prophecy, by neglect of which the 
 Jews rejected our Lord, and by which we might 
 reject Him also full of learning, pathos, and elo- 
 quence. It lasted an hour and twenty minutes, and 
 he was quite exhausted by the effort, but is recovered 
 now, and very much relieved to have delivered his 
 parting testimony. There was something quite 
 sublime in the curious way in which from time to 
 time his fine old face was lit up or darkened with 
 
iv.] DEAN STANLEY AND MAX MULLER 97 
 
 the eagerness of hope or the solemnity of rebuke.. 
 Every topic of modern interest was touched, and! 
 touched in the most convincing and masterly manner.. 
 It will be printed immediately. 
 
 I listened [wrote Mr. Max Mliller] to your sermon 
 on Jewish Prophecy with great delight, but I shall 
 read it again with even deeper interest. If one 
 thinks, how that pulpit of St. Mary's might shine 
 like a beacon in the world, and how little it fulfils 
 that purpose ! However, I shall count it as one of 
 my historical recollections of England to have seen 
 and heard you in that place. 
 
 And the impression made by this sermon, as upon 
 a veteran of literature, so upon the ingenuous mind 
 of a student, young indeed, but of good scholarship 
 and unusual literary taste, is thus expressed : 
 
 The sermon on Hebrew Prophecy seems to be 
 the utterance of a true prophet-poet, who sees deep 
 into the soul of things and faces intellectual diffi- 
 culties with a strong heart, earnestly believing in 
 the good that lives and works through all things, 
 and which ever reveals itself to .the sincere and pure- 
 minded of men. To see an old man of such ability 
 so hopeful and confident that the world's knowledge 
 of God and Christ will evermore expand and develop 
 with the unfoldings of scientific truths and the upward 
 growth of civilisation is encouraging in the highest 
 degree to the young and feeble student of God's 
 great mysteries, whose heart, by reason of ignorance 
 and inexperience, is ever wavering between wild 
 hope and blank, unutterable despair. 
 
 It had occurred to Mr. Lockhart that the most 
 efficient method of answering those who objected 
 
 7 
 
98 "HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY" COMMENCED [CHAP. 
 
 to the " History of the Jews" would be to write a 
 " History of Christianity," and this had been my 
 father's own conclusion, though for a moment he 
 may have hesitated before braving another storm. 
 
 I have begun [he writes to Mr. Harness, 
 IFebruary loth, 1831] a " History of Christianity " for 
 ;the Family Library, but whether I shall continue 
 in defiance of episcopal fagotry and such incendiary 
 proceedings I have scarcely determined. However, 
 
 I suppose in these regenerating times Bishops will 
 not last long. How many of them must put on 
 -their wigs the wrong way, in trembling anticipation 
 >f the approaching crisis ! 
 
 And to Mr. Lockhart on August I2th : 
 
 I have been seriously attempting a first volume of 
 
 II Christianity," with a Life of Christ. My motto 
 from Villemain's Lectures : " II faut tre ennuyeux 
 puisque cela est plus orthodoxe." 
 
 The " History of Christianity " did not, however, 
 appear in the Family Library, nor was it completed 
 or published till 1840. If the discontinuance of the 
 Family Library had been mainly, if not entirely, due 
 to the suspicions with which the series came to be 
 regarded after the appearance of the (< History of 
 the Jews " amongst its volumes, it is clear that Mr. 
 Murray had no thought of throwing over its author, 
 or of being frightened by popular clamour into 
 losing the assistance of a writer whose services he 
 so highly valued. Dr. Lardner had made some 
 overtures to Mr. Milman to become a contributor to 
 his " Cyclopaedia," upon, so far as remuneration was 
 
iv.] DR. LARDNER 99 
 
 concerned, apparently very advantageous terms ; on 
 which Mr. Lockhart, whom my father consulted, 
 writes, 1830 : 
 
 I have just read to Murray what you say about 
 " Christianity " and Dr. Lardner. He is confined 
 with something in his foot he denies gout and is 
 in great pain ; but he asked me to say that he is 
 most ready to engage for " Christianity," no matter 
 how many volumes ; that he will, moreover, pledge 
 himself to accept as many books as you like to write 
 for the Family Library as long as that work goes on, 
 and to pay for them at the highest rate which any 
 such work can offer ; in short, that he hopes you 
 will not lend your aid to Dr. Lardner, as Scott 
 and Southey have both done through sheer mis- 
 apprehension, and as neither of them accordingly 
 will do again. 
 
 It had been originally, no doubt, intended that the 
 " History of Christianity" should be issued volume 
 by volume in the series, and the first instalment 
 of it containing the Life of Christ had been, it may 
 be inferred, forwarded to the publisher as early as 
 1832 ; for my father, writing on August 24th of 
 that year to Mr. Murray, says : 
 
 My own opinion about the " History of 
 Christianity " is that it is not liable to the only 
 objection, the assigning the secondary causes of 
 the miracles, which was put in anything like a 
 tangible shape against the " History of the Jews." 
 I feel myself convinced that there is nothing which 
 ought to offend either a man of sense or a reason- 
 able and candid Christian. Still, there may be, in this 
 age of ignorance and presumption on such subjects, 
 
100 LETTER TO MR, MURRAY [CHAP. 
 
 many who may be startled by any original thought or 
 even expression, or by what maybe new to them. And 
 it may be worth my while to go over the whole once 
 more and reconsider its bearings, as, though I will 
 alter no one point of importance which I consider 
 to be just and true, I do not want to give offence 
 where no end is to be obtained. My own present 
 feeling is that, by explaining the real point of view 
 from which the history is written, it will with all 
 sober persons not merely vindicate itself, but show 
 the suspicions of the former work to have been 
 utterly groundless. In fact, I will engage to assert 
 that no proof of the authenticity and antiquity of 
 the New Testament has been adduced more con- 
 vincing than the accordance with the history of the 
 times and the manners and characters of the people 
 which everywhere appears in the present work. 
 
 It was perhaps as well that the " History of 
 Christianity " was freed from the conditions of time 
 and space which would have been imposed upon it 
 as a portion of the Family Library. The " History 
 of Christianity from the Birth of Christ to the 
 Abolition of Paganism in the Roman Empire " did 
 not appear as an independent publication until eight 
 years afterwards, and its value cannot but have been 
 enhanced by the additional years of labour and 
 research which were devoted to its completion. A 
 few words as to its reception will find their place 
 a little later on. 
 
 Concurrently with his other avocations my father 
 
 had for some years been engaged in collecting 
 
 4 material for an annotated edition of Gibbon, a 
 
 work which originated in his habit of noting on 
 
iv.] EDITION OF GIBBON 
 
 the margin of his copy of the " Decline and Fall 
 of the Roman Empire " references to such authors 
 as had discovered errors or thrown new light on 
 the subjects treated by Gibbon. Mr. Harness had 
 thought that such an edition as he believed to be 
 contemplated might appear under the auspices of 
 the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge ; 
 but the answer to this suggestion was decisive : 
 
 You may depend upon it that no edition of 
 Gibbon, however neutralized by annotations, will be 
 ventured on by the S.P.C.K. Nothing but the 
 most merciless castration will bring him within their 
 notions of safety and propriety ; and if I go on with 
 my edition, not one word of Gibbon is to be 
 omitted, besides that, I intend it for a scholarlike 
 as well as a Christianized work, and shall be at 
 some pains to bring it up to the present state of 
 research in all points. 
 
 His deliberate judgment upon the magnificence 
 and general accuracy of Gibbon's history could only 
 be expressed in terms of the highest admiration, and 
 he would have repudiated any proposal to tamper 
 with the text. 
 
 Who [he asks] would obscure one hue of that 
 gorgeous colouring in which Gibbon has invested 
 the dying forms of Paganism, or darken one para- 
 graph in his splendid view of the rise and progress 
 of Mahometanism ? But who would not have wished 
 that the same equal justice had been done to 
 Christianity ; that its real character and deeply 
 penetrating influence had been traced with the same 
 philosophical sagacity, and represented with more 
 
102 'LIFE OF GIBBON" [CHAP. 
 
 sober, as would become its quiet course, and perhaps 
 less picturesque, but still with lively and attractive 
 descriptiveness ? 
 
 The edition, which incorporated a large proportion 
 M. Guizot's notes to the French translation, was, 
 -/ with a supplementary volume containing the " Life 
 and Correspondence of Edward Gibbon," published 
 in 1839 by Mr. Murray, and long held its place as 
 the standard edition of the " Decline and Fall of the 
 Roman Empire." 
 
v.] ENGAGEMENTS AT OXFORD 103 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Letters from Oxford Dropmore Bampton Lecturer Commemora- 
 tion, 1827 Catholic Relief Bill The Oxford Election Peel 
 rejected Dinner at Mr. John Murray's Letters from Mrs. 
 Hemans and Mrs. Opie Rector of St. Margaret's and 
 Prebendary of Westminster. 
 
 AS time went on the demands upon my father's 
 time occasioned by his Oxford engagements 
 seem to have become somewhat wearisome, though 
 he would have been reluctant to give up the 
 opportunities afforded by these engagements of 
 keeping in touch with old friends. 
 
 My Oxford avocations [he says, writing in 1831] 
 rather interfere with my plans, but still I shall 
 hope to continue them so as to reconcile both. 
 I cannot say but that I am rather tired of my 
 journeys to that place several times a year, except 
 that I see a few friends for whom I have a great 
 regard, and consult books in the Bodleian which 
 I cannot obtain elsewhere. The former part I 
 shall much regret when my professorship ceases, 
 as cease it must next year. For it is one of the 
 few drawbacks upon a settled life that we lose 
 sight so much of old and valued friends : people 
 must be near to be very intimate, and perhaps very 
 intimate friendships must begin in youth. 
 
 A few extracts from letters written to my mother 
 
104 LORD GRENVILLE [CHAP. 
 
 during these occasional absences from home may 
 be given. But my father's letters then and always 
 were so familiar, so easy, so exclusively intended 
 for those to whom they were addressed, that they 
 can only be used with much reserve, and where 
 the allusions to events and persons which may 
 still be of some general interest can be separated 
 from those of more private concern. For in the 
 words of one of the greatest of letter-writers, 
 " Quam multa joca solent esse in epistolis quae, 
 prolata si sint, inepta videantur : quam multa seria 
 neque tamen ullo modo divulganda." * 
 
 The interest which Lord Grenville had expressed 
 in my father's career when he was carrying off 
 prize after prize at Oxford has already been re- 
 ferred to, and the same friendly interest was 
 maintained as the promise of the young man was 
 justified by his later works. My father was, I 
 believe, a not unfrequent visitor at Dropmore, and 
 a reminiscence of the retired statesman is contained 
 in the following letter : 
 
 DROPMORE, June 2%th, 1826. 
 
 Really the calm and beauty of this place, after 
 the turmoil and disagreeable agitations of Reading, 
 appear quite refreshing. . . . The house, as I 
 thought before, is better arranged and the estab- 
 lishment in more perfect order than any I ever 
 saw. We meet at breakfast, after which Lord 
 Grenville retires to his private room, and I have 
 the range of a most excellent library, where, of 
 course, I find occupation enough. Lady Grenville 
 
 * Cicero, 2 Phil., c. 4. 
 
v.j DROPMORE 105 
 
 betakes herself to her garden and improvements, 
 which entirely occupy her. The garden and 
 grounds are lovely made entirely by themselves ; 
 indeed, the greater part of the land was a few years 
 ago a heath and barren common, but is now 
 covered with trees of all sorts, admirably scattered 
 about. I should have been a little earlier, as the 
 rhododendrons which abound in all parts are now 
 out of bloom. I have seen, especially at White 
 Knights, more rare shrubs and flowers, but the 
 whole arrangement of the place displays the greatest 
 taste. We meet a little before an early dinner. 
 The first day Mr. Neville, his wife, Lady Charlotte, 
 and Lady Glyn, his sister, were here from Billing- 
 bear. Yesterday we were alone, and his Lordship 
 and I discussed literature and history in a manner 
 to me peculiarly interesting and delightful. The 
 first night we walked from dinner-time till late in 
 the evening ; but the damp of last night made him 
 have recourse as the gout has still left him weak 
 in the ankles to the garden-chair. 
 
 And after returning to Reading : 
 
 I brought away a beautiful rare honeysuckle 
 and a book of Latin poems privately printed by 
 his Lordship as a present. I saw the storm from 
 the brow of Dropmore Hill in great magnificence, 
 more especially over Windsor. I discovered a 
 great smoke, the cause of which we could not 
 make out ; but it turns out by to-day's papers to 
 have been part of the Christopher Inn at Eton, 
 which was set on fire by the lightning. 
 
 The next miscellaneous excerpts, some of which 
 can only be approximately dated, may be intro- 
 duced with little or no preface. 
 
106 BLANCO WHITE [CHAP,. 
 
 OXFORD, 1826. 
 
 The only occurrence, I think, has been my 
 introduction to Blanco White, the Spanish Roman 
 Catholic convert, whose memoirs you read. He 
 is residing here, and intends, I believe, to end 
 his days in Oxford. He is remarkably intelligent, 
 and his conversation peculiarly prepossessing. He 
 expresses himself with force and fluency, such as 
 one rarely hears from a native Englishman, with 
 the slightest tinge of foreign accent. In short, 
 the dinner yesterday at Cardwell's * was one of the 
 most agreeable I was ever present at in Oxford, 
 or indeed in any place where the whole party 
 consisted of he-men. I am very busy in the 
 morning in the Bodleian, where I find almost all 
 the books that I want, and am hard at work making 
 my extracts. The general report in Oxford is that 
 Chandler is to be the new Bishop of Calcutta ; but 
 Lloyd, the Regius Professor, with whom I have 
 just been, does not think it has been offered to 
 him. He is, I think, likely to be behind the 
 curtains upon the subject. He asked me whether 
 I would go if the offer was made. I did not give 
 a favourable reply ; for even though it would be 
 no discredit to have the situation offered, even if 
 declined, I did not care to fish for an offer. 
 
 The Bampton Lectures on " The Character and 
 Conduct of the Apostles as an Evidence of 
 Christianity " were now in the course of delivery. 
 
 B. N. C, OXFORD, March, 1827. 
 
 As far as I can judge, the lecture went off quite 
 as well as I could wish, and better than I anticipated. 
 The graver part of the University appear highly 
 to approve, the younger to be strongly impressed. 
 The church could not well be more full ; and if 
 
 * Rev. Edward Cardwell, M.A., D.D., B. N. C. ; Camden Professor 
 of Ancient History, 1825-61; Principal of St. Alban's Hall, 1831-61. 
 
v.j BAMPTON LECTURES 107 
 
 undivided attention to the end is a sure sign of the 
 effect which the preacher desires being produced, 
 I think the sermon must have been highly effective. 
 As this was the case with the first, I look forward 
 with anxiety, but still with better confidence, to 
 those which are to come. 
 
 The lectures have to be printed within two 
 months after the course is completed, and it had 
 been suggested to my father that the volume might 
 properly be dedicated to the King. 
 
 B. N. C., May, 1827. 
 
 I found a very kind letter from Charles Sumner, 
 my Lord of Llandaff, highly approving of my plan, 
 and expressing his opinion that such a compliment 
 would be considered well timed. At this part of 
 the letter Cardwell and I laughed most heartily, but 
 it will be rather amusing if it is taken in such a 
 light. I wrote the formal letter to Dr. Gooch, the 
 present librarian, but have not yet received an 
 answer. The printing advances, but not so rapidly 
 as I had hoped. However, we have entered on the 
 sixth lecture. No. 7 went off uncommonly well. 
 The ladies were rather drawn away to have their 
 tender hearts melted by Blanco White's Charity 
 Sermon ; but the University attendance was quite 
 as full as ever. 
 
 The volumes of Bampton Lectures must now 
 considerably exceed one hundred, and it is very 
 unlikely that any one will pierce through an over- 
 lying stratum, the accumulation of seventy years, 
 to a volume that was published in 1827. But 
 as I have seen want of imagination imputed as 
 a defect in my father's histories the very last 
 quality in which I venture to believe that they 
 
108 OXFORD COMMEMORATION, 1827 [CHAP. 
 
 are deficient it may be permitted to refer to the 
 high authority of Archbishop Whately, who, alluding, 
 in his " Elements of Rhetoric," to the importance, 
 among the intellectual qualifications for the study 
 of history, of a vivid imagination, gives, as an illus- 
 tration of what he has been enforcing, a long extract 
 from Milman's Bampton Lectures (vi. 267), in 
 which a picture is drawn of an Apostle of Jesus 
 Christ, tentmaker or fisherman, entering as a 
 stranger into one of the splendid cities of Syria, 
 Asia Minor, or Greece. 
 
 Commemoration in June of the same year, 1827, 
 at which my father, as Professor and Public Orator, 
 had to be present, seems to have been of more than 
 usual interest. 
 
 I do not know whether I ought not to represent 
 the affair at Oxford in rather sombre colours, that I 
 may not excite your regret. I would have given 
 anything for you. The Theatre in the morning was 
 splendid, and everything went off to admiration. 
 Peel was the one great and engrossing object of 
 attraction. The applause was stunning. And at last 
 the youths began to call out Canning's name, 
 followed with violent hissing, and then Peel's, with as 
 extravagant plaudits. Peel kept his countenance 
 extremely well. I was introduced to him before 
 the morning ceremony. My speech went off very 
 well. I contrived to substitute a different conclusion, 
 and to bring in poor Reginald [Heber]. His more 
 intimate friends, Sir Thomas Acland and Sir R. 
 Inglis, were uncommonly pleased with it. The Vice- 
 Chancellor and Proctors were all tolerably popular ; 
 in short, good humour was the order of the day. 
 The oratorio of Palestine went off well, though its 
 
v.] ENTHUSIASM FOR MR. PEEL 109 
 
 greatest admirers must allow that it is rather heavy. 
 But in the Wednesday concert, the fullest I think I 
 ever saw at Oxford, nothing could be finer than some 
 of the music. Pasta was splendid ; Caradori, though 
 evidently very unwell, charming ; Mrs. William 
 Knyvett (Miss Travis) excellent. But poor Miss 
 Stephens ! her voice is almost gone ; and it was 
 rather amusing to see Pasta's face when she was 
 quavering away and failing every other note. The 
 expression was partly that of commiseration, partly 
 of wonder at the applause which she received from 
 her partizans. Eliot was here. How he bore his 
 idol, being manifestly in the fourth place, I know 
 not. To be sure, the face of Madame Pasta, 
 itself rich in the more than usual share of ugliness 
 which nature has bestowed upon her, was set off 
 with a dress which made it infinitely more striking. 
 So that if Miss Stephens had been in good looks 
 which, alas ! she was not she might have retorted 
 
 upon the Calmuck visage of her rival. said 
 
 rather well, that all birds with beautiful voices are, 
 like Pasta, condemned to be without any other kind 
 of beauty. 
 
 The enthusiasm for Mr. Peel among his con- 
 stituents did not, unfortunately, survive his adhesion 
 to the cause of Catholic Emancipation, for which 
 purpose a measure was announced by the Duke of 
 Wellington's Ministry early in the year 1829. 
 
 A letter from Mr. Peel to the Vice-Chancellor 
 resigning his seat as representative of the University 
 was received on February 4th, and Oxford was soon 
 in the excitement of a Parliamentary election ; for 
 Mr. Peel's re-election was to be contested, and Sir 
 Robert Harry Inglis was chosen to fight the battle 
 of the Anti-Catholics. 
 
HO CHAIRMAN OF PEEL'S COMMITTEE [CHAP. 
 
 I believe [my father writes to his sister-in-law, 
 Miss Cockell] that Nina [my mother] did not tell you 
 the Reading version of my last journey to London. 
 Peel had come over to Reading from Strathfield- 
 saye, left two servants at the Bear (I love to be 
 minute) had a long interview with me at my house, 
 upon which I set off to be chairman of his London 
 committee. I suspect our ultras are not a little 
 perplexed, with Dukinfield and myself voting for 
 him. 
 
 Then some days later he writes to my mother 
 from London : 
 
 UNITED UNIVERSITY CLUB, 
 February iStfr, 1829. 
 
 Here I am in the thick of the bustle. I scarcely 
 know how affairs proceed as to the election, but 
 I have just heard that the chairman of Inglis's 
 London committee is no less than the redoutable 
 Sir John Sewell, who once called upon me as 
 pretendant to the representation of Reading, having, 
 as he stated, some spare eloquence which he wished 
 to bestow upon the National Councils he having 
 duly exercised himself before those numerous and 
 respectable assemblies the East India House and 
 the Mary-le-bone Vestry ! I have received a hand- 
 some letter from George Dawson, who had shown 
 my communication to Peel. The Bill will certainly 
 pass in the Lords. The report last night was that 
 the Duke of Cumberland had recanted, that would 
 make the whole complete. The great Anti-Catholics, 
 the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Winchilsea, are 
 christened the Goose and Gridiron. I met Lord 
 Sidmouth as I was coming out of Peel's committee. 
 I asked him to guess where I came from. " Peel's 
 committee, I suppose." We walked together from 
 Charing Cross to Grafton Street. He let out a few 
 hints which threw light on the whole situation. 
 
v.] THE CATHOLIC QUESTION ill 
 
 Mr. Dawson's letter above referred to was as 
 follows : 
 
 TREASURY CHAMBERS, 
 
 February \^th, 
 MY DEAR MlLMAN, 
 
 Many thanks for your kind letter, which I 
 have shown to Mr. Peel, and he desires me to 
 express his warmest thanks for your very flattering 
 opinion. A committee has been formed at Oxford 
 to propose him for re-election, which will be 
 supported by one in London which was formed 
 to-day ; and I have no doubt that their endeavours 
 will be successful. He declines expressing any 
 wish upon the subject, but his friends seem deter- 
 mined to act without consulting him, considering 
 his re-election a matter in which the interests of 
 the University are more involved than his private 
 feelings ; in which opinion a great majority of the 
 Oxford men in London concur. 
 
 U. U. C., Saturday ', February 2ist, 1829. 
 
 The first election (for the Public Oratorship) 
 is already decided by the retirement of Cramer's 
 competitor ; but Peel's will certainly come to a 
 crisis on Thursday. I have just been at the com- 
 mittee. An intimate friend of mine speaks in great 
 confidence. I myself am not so sanguine. I wished 
 for you most extremely last night. I went to 
 Rienzi> which goes off, with the exception of 
 the last scene, extremely well. Young acts very 
 finely ; Miss Phillips extremely well. I could not 
 help thinking of my own meditated coup de theatre, 
 though all would have been in some degree to 
 no purpose if the scenery had been no better. 
 The Capitol at Rome is represented by an old 
 Gothic castle. It is really quite disgraceful to 
 the house. As for London, it rings with nothing 
 but the Catholic Question and Peel's election. I 
 
112 WHAT WILL THE BISHOPS DO? [CHAP. 
 
 passed two watchmen as I walked from the play 
 alone to my brother's house in Park Street.. 
 Dogberry and Verges were gravely discussing the 
 Marquis of Anglesey. Considering, however, the 
 nature of the contest, I could not be involved in 
 one which would perplex me less. All my friends 
 are to be found in Peel's committee-room. It is 
 not known what the Bishops will do. The report 
 says " Omne quod exit in Chester" ; that is, all that 
 end in Chester Chester, Winchester, Chichester, 
 Rochester will go with the King. The Archbishop 
 of York is supposed to be Liberal ; Copleston an. 
 avowed Liberal. Nothing can equal the fury of the 
 Anti-Catholic papers. They talk of looking to 
 the title by which the House of Brunswick holds the 
 throne, and throw out hints about the House of 
 Sardinia. Dr. Phillpotts, finding the Bishops had 
 not ratted, is said to have left town with his tail 
 between his legs, pondering on the possibility of 
 re-ratting. The worst of all is, the parties seem 
 sad, serious, and savage. There ought to be a 
 premium on a good joke. 
 
 The scene is now transferred to Oxford. 
 
 Wednesday, February 2$th. 
 
 I shall, if I am able, get back to Reading on Friday; 
 but the business does not open till twelve on 
 Thursday ; and as there will be considerable speechi- 
 fication, little voting will take place till Friday 
 morning. At all events, I shall not be able to await 
 the final result, as our adversaries accuse us of 
 having stolen a march and secured all the coaches, 
 so that the indignant Anti-Catholics must stand in 
 patience, or rather venting their spleen, by the way- 
 side. . . . Now, to go back back to the election, 
 the result, as I have always said, is doubtful. 
 Both parties are in high spirits, but the multitude of 
 
v.] THE OXFORD ELECTION 113 
 
 neuters makes it impossible to calculate accurately. 
 
 The most comical part is my poor friend . He 
 
 has got on the wrong side by mistake, and is assailed 
 by letters from all quarters. I have not yet had my 
 fling at him, but shall not spare him. What busi- 
 ness has he out of the leading-strings ? It is curious 
 and rather striking, certainly a fact highly creditable 
 to Peel, that out of forty members of the House of 
 Commons thirty-eight vote for him. Did I tell you 
 the rumour about Mapledurham that the living 
 and canonry of Windsor are reserved for young 
 FitzClarence, now in deacon's orders ? Gerard 
 Wellesley certainly said, with his usual elegance of 
 phrase, " The King has grabbed Mapledurham." 
 It is very agreeable to meet many old friends, and 
 rather amusing to see the rusty old parsons who 
 have been disturbing my studies by stamping their 
 ponderous shoes about the Bodleian. " To this com- 
 plexion we must come at last." Is this so ? Must 
 one, without being delicately arrayed in episcopal 
 purple, or even a dean's apron to cover one's 
 tottering knees, assume the farmer-consorting and 
 uncivilized look and manner of so many of my 
 clerical brethren ? 
 
 ST. MARY'S, February 2%th. 
 
 I suppose you know we have been beat miserably 
 beat. Oh the long visages that appeared ! We 
 could tell every vote as the voter came up to the poll. 
 Some marched up as if they were thinking of the 
 faggot they were to bear in a few months ; some 
 pondering on the text in the Revelation which 
 relates to the Scarlet Lady, whom Dr. Lingard, in 
 the new volume of his history, with commendable 
 delicacy, does not denominate at full length, but 
 
 calls the W of Babylon (don't be shocked) ; 
 
 some with voices as long and dull as their visages, 
 drawling out Sir Rob ert Har ry In glis. Not 
 
 8 
 
114 CLOSE OF THE POLL [CHAP. 
 
 that I know the final result, but the majority last 
 night was 126 against Peel irretrievable, even if 
 we had a reserve, which I doubt. 
 
 At the close of the poll the majority against 
 Peel was 146, and those of his supporters who 
 had looked for a more favourable result must indeed 
 have been of sanguine temperament, considering 
 that but a short time previously, at an unusually 
 full gathering of Convocation, a petition against 
 any concession to the Catholic claims had been 
 adopted by a majority of more than three to one. 
 
 Some of his parishioners would seem to have 
 been rather scandalized at the support given by their 
 vicar to Mr. Peel at Oxford. Writing from the 
 Athenaeum, some little time after the election was 
 over, my father says : 
 
 I discovered just now immediately opposite to me 
 Dr. Gabell. He told me that he had been recently 
 advocating my cause. I stared, but it was rather 
 a comical story. During the recent high wind he 
 was in Reading. Certain gaping folk were gazing 
 at St. Giles's steeple, supposing that it rocked. " Is 
 it gone ? " I interrupted him, in eager hope. No 
 such good news ; but he observed to a stander-by 
 that the church was in no danger of falling in 
 Reading. " I don't know that, sir," said his strange 
 friend; "two of our vicars went to vote for Mr. 
 Peel." 
 
 The state of agitation into which Oxford had 
 been plunged by the Catholic Relief Bill and 
 Mr. Peel's contested election had scarcely subsided 
 when party feeling in the University was once 
 
v.] PARLIAMENTARY REFORM 11$ 
 
 more violently excited on the question of Parlia- 
 mentary Reform. But the conclusion of my father's. 
 second term of office as Professor of Poetry was, 
 at hand, and its termination would release him 
 from the necessity of periodical attendances at 
 Oxford, which, however much he might for many 
 reasons value them, had in fact become a rather 
 severe tax upon his time, especially as among the 
 duties attached to the professorship was that of 
 assisting in the adjudication of various prizes, a 
 duty after some years' experience apt to become 
 slightly monotonous. 
 
 ORIEL COLLEGE, May i8//fc, 1831. 
 
 I find my coadjutors have made such little way 
 with the prizes that I shall probably return after I 
 have read them and leave my opinion, as far as it 
 is yet made up, with Cramer. We have eighteen 
 long essays on the " Use and Abuse of Theory," and 
 sixty-four copies of verses on a subject which might 
 be good if not connected with so much religious 
 and political excitement, the " Suttees ; or, Burning 
 Widows in India." I have not yet looked at them, 
 having been working my weary eyes through the 
 essays. I suppose the successful one will be in- 
 scribed, as most appropriately, to Mrs. Heber. I 
 have now got into the midst of such an Anti- 
 Reform current Oxford flows all one way that 
 it is difficult to keep one's legs, and proceed slowly 
 down the stream as I am inclined. My moderation 
 finds few now Cardwell is absent, who, I suspect, 
 thinks much with me to whom it does not seem 
 most marvellous. I long to be with you, with 
 my children. My dear boy, I am neither inclined 
 to quarrel with his tender-heartedness nor any- 
 thing else which his character has yet displayed. 
 
Il6 A QUAKER'S DEGREE [CHAP. 
 
 I do not think what you mention any mark of 
 feebleness of mind. Whether he has moral strength 
 or courage it is impossible yet to judge; but he 
 may cry over Robert Bruce for hours without 
 making me uneasy on that head. The more I 
 think, the less am I inclined to be as gloomy as 
 my friends. However, this we will talk over when 
 we meet. I have work enough on my hands of 
 other kind. 
 
 And as a last glimpse of Oxford in the thirties 
 {1832):- 
 
 To-morrow a degree is given to old Dalton, 
 a Quaker, and a great chemist. Fortunately there 
 are no oaths on taking an honorary degree ; the 
 only difficulty was the putting on a scarlet gown. 
 But it so happens that the old man has an optical 
 defect in his vision, from which he cannot dis- 
 tinguish red colours ; so he may mistake it for 
 drab. Is not this very lucky and convenient ? 
 
 In addition to my father's engagements at Oxford 
 visits to London in answer to calls of literary and 
 other business were not unfrequent, and he was 
 in the habit of writing to my mother full accounts 
 of all the persons he had seen and the news that 
 he had heard during these absences. The letters 
 are full of allusions to the actors in, and the 
 events of, a very interesting time full also of 
 amusing anecdote ; but they are written in the 
 easy style of familiar correspondence, and so much 
 of merely domestic detail is intermingled, that, as 
 has already been observed, it is almost impossible 
 to give extracts from them. One is warned, 
 
v.] QUARTERLY REVIEWERS 117 
 
 indeed, from attempting to do so by many recent 
 examples showing how words and expressions un- 
 exceptionable in familiar intercourse and the give 
 and take of private conversation, when severed 
 from their context and taken au grand serieux, 
 may be misinterpreted obtusely or ill-naturedly. 
 Nevertheless, the following account of a dinner 
 in Albemarle Street may not be unacceptable or 
 inadmissible. 
 
 I found [this is from Reading] on my table a 
 letter from Lockhart, urging me to come to town 
 to meet Southey, who is to be in London, and a 
 squad of Quarterly Reviewers ; this was backed 
 by another from John Murray, begging me to meet 
 the said squad (or gang, I suppose, the wicked 
 Whigs would call them) at dinner on Wednesday. 
 Now, this I have some inclination to do, but not 
 if I leave you here alone, nor unless you have a 
 wish to stay at Sandleford. In short, I am in 
 a complete " dilummey," as the lady says in the farce ; 
 for Dukinfield * has been here, and tells me the 
 Bishop is to be with him house-hunting next week, 
 and I do not wish to miss him ; but the day is 
 uncertain. What shall I do ? I cannot but think 
 that my presence might be of some use in keeping 
 certain of the said Reviewers to a more moderate 
 course than they may be inclined to adopt, and 
 
 * Dukinfield, (Sir] Rev. Henry Robert, Bart., student of Christ 
 Church, Oxford; vicar of St. Giles', Reading, 1816; prebendary 
 of Salisbury, 1833 ; vicar of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Westminster, 
 1834, till his death 1858. Dukinfield was, as has been mentioned, 
 an early Eton friend of my father's, and they were much thrown 
 together in after-life, each holding for some years a living at 
 Reading, and each obtaining preferment in London about the same 
 time their parishes, both in Reading and in Westminster, being 
 actually contiguous. 
 
Il8 A DINNER AT MR. MURRAY'S [CHAP. 
 
 I should rather like to know what line they intend 
 to take. 
 
 He went, and this is his report of the dinner : 
 
 UNITED UNIVERSITY CLUB, 
 
 November nth, 1830, 
 
 Never was such a dinner! In the first place, the 
 dramatis persona were not, as I expected, Quarterly 
 Reviewers,but much more of a mixed party. How- 
 ever, it could not be more amusing ; and as for 
 moderation, one might as well pour oil into a furnace. 
 In the first place do not be alarmed sate old 
 Mr. Hammond, next to him Southey, then a Miss 
 Murray, then Basil Hall, Palgrave, and a clergyman 
 named Holland, a relation of Murray's. On the 
 other side, an old Scotch M.P. named Monteith, 
 a shrewd old man of great wealth and few words, 
 Michael Thomas Sadler, your humble servant, 
 Lockhart, a Mr. Miller, a Quarterly Reviewer, 
 and young Murray, etc. We got on rather tamely 
 at first. I made acquaintance with Mr. Sadler. 
 After dinner, even before the cloth was removed, 
 Mr. Sadler began to harangue, very much, I suppose, 
 as he does when lecturing at the Philosophical 
 School at Leeds. He talked at Southey ; but 
 Southey was cautious, and I now and then slipped 
 in a word. Mr. Miller put a pertinent question how 
 some scheme of Mr. Sadler's was to be effected ? 
 Sadler, without answering, went off at score on 
 another subject. Basil Hall could bear it no 
 longer ; but whether in earnest or not, with most 
 earnest vehemence set off declaring that " every- 
 body was as rich and as happy as he ought to be." 
 It fell like a bombshell among us. Never was 
 there such an explosion ! Off went Sadler, Hall in 
 vain trying to explain. Then I gave a little bit 
 about the agricultural labourers ; then Southey ; then 
 Sadler again, more fluent and figurative than ever. 
 
v.] ULTRA POLITICS 1 19 
 
 " Ah," says the old Scotchman, " these are all figures 
 of speech " ; and gave a few good pithy words of 
 sense. " I have seen more countries than you, "says 
 Hall. " I am twice as old and have seen twice as 
 many years," retorted Sadler who, by the way, 
 though evidently a man entirely unused to good 
 society, in this case was the more gentlemanlike. 
 At last there was a sort of discussion about the 
 Catholic question affair of last year the treason 
 of Peel & Co. I did not choose to take up the 
 cudgels in their behalf. However, I did not quite 
 desert them. But I see the whole tone of the 
 ultras to be still as vehement at heart as ever, 
 though they are somewhat startled by the immediate 
 prospect of being ousted and a Whig Ministry 
 triumphant. This it is believed is inevitable. On 
 Tuesday they will probably be beat on the Reform 
 question, and on Wednesday resign. ... I should 
 not wonder if I were to stay till Saturday. The 
 crisis is singularly interesting. We went this 
 morning to see Alderson take his seat as a judge, 
 but were disappointed, only seeing a preliminary 
 ceremony. He does not take his seat till to-morrow. . . . 
 Talking of plots, the general impression is that 
 there is something much deeper than was supposed : 
 that the remains of the old Thistlewood gang of 
 desperadoes are the bottom of the fires as well as 
 of the riots that it is an organized system, to which 
 it is hoped that a clue has been obtained. Southey 
 is in a state of exultation, talks of ultra Polignac 
 measures. Between ourselves, he seems to me a 
 fearful instance, and a warning, of the manner in 
 which the noblest, most amiable, most gentle dis- 
 position may be embittered and exasperated by 
 party writing. Lockhart has persuaded me to 
 stay and dine with him to-morrow. This is very 
 idle ; but as it does not detain me from you, and 
 as I wrote a sermon last Saturday which I did 
 
120 ARTICLE ON BISHOP HEBER [CHAP. 
 
 not preach, I may indulge myself. I have been at 
 Murray's : very little stirring there. I saw Sotheby, 
 who admires my Heber article very much. There 
 is a certain D.D. in Lancashire, by a comical chance 
 an acquaintance of mine, who is a desperately 
 stupid personage, but the most ultra of men. He 
 has written an indignant letter to the editor, 
 denouncing the article as an insidious attack upon 
 the Church, because I say that the great body of 
 the clergy " move slowly in the wake of general 
 improvement." I* want an answer to be written 
 recanting the sentence, on the unquestionable 
 authority of a learned gentleman who shows that 
 he is so far beyond the age. 
 
 My father's acquaintance, which had ripened to 
 friendship, with the Kemble family, his reputation 
 as a Quarterly Reviewer, combined with his known 
 good nature, caused, it would seem, by no means 
 unfrequent applications, especially from authoresses, 
 for his advice and friendly intervention. Miss 
 Mitford, as has been seen, was anxious that he 
 should review one or other of her plays ; and there 
 are several letters from Mrs. Hemans, submitting 
 her MSS. to his criticism, and expressing her 
 obligation for the trouble that he had taken in 
 furthering her wishes. Mrs. Hemans writes : 
 
 BRONWYLFA, October\2th, 1821. 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 I really can scarcely regret the little contre- 
 temps which have occurred with respect to my play, 
 since they have been the means of disclosing to me 
 so many instances of kindness, for which I now beg 
 you to accept my warmest acknowledgments, as my 
 
v.] MRS. HEMANS 1 21 
 
 name is now become known to Mr. C. Kemble. May 
 I request you would express to him the sense I 
 entertain of his very honourable conduct on this 
 occasion, as well as my gratitude for his liberal 
 offer of service ? For your own zealous and dis- 
 interested exertions I feel that the only return I can 
 make is by assuring you of my unlimited confidence, 
 and my conviction that, whatever may be the fate of 
 the piece, its interests could not have been more 
 carefully protected had they been in the hands even 
 of a brother. A late domestic affliction has pre- 
 vented my paying, as yet, much attention to the 
 alterations which I intend to make ; and as I cannot 
 help looking forward to the day of trial with much 
 more of dread than of sanguine expectation, I most 
 willingly acquiesce in your recommendation of 
 delay, and shall rejoice in having the respite as 
 much prolonged as possible. I begin almost to 
 shudder at my own presumption ; and if it were not 
 for the kind encouragement I have received from 
 you and Mr. Reginald Heber, should be much 
 more anxiously occupied in searching for any outlet 
 of escape, than in attempting to overcome the 
 difficulties which seem to obstruct my onward path. 
 With regard to the translation from the French 
 Sicilian Vespers, as I have determined upon 
 changing the name of the piece (which is to be 
 simply Procida), I trust they will not materially 
 interfere with each other. It would be a source 
 of serious regret to me should my play be ultimately 
 performed without Mr. C. Kemble, and I am 
 particularly happy that you have expressed this feel- 
 ing in my name to the proprietors of Covent Garden. 
 You have inspired me with a most devout horror of 
 the whole race of managers. I begin to look upon 
 them in the light of so many ogres, and to feel that 
 it will be almost a sufficient cause of self-gratulation 
 if I put my head into the wolfs jaws and escape 
 
122 "PROCIDA; OR, SICILIAN VESPERS" [CHAP. 
 
 unhurt. My own inexperience in transactions of 
 this nature is just what might be expected from 
 one whose life has hitherto been passed amongst the 
 Welsh mountains. It is indeed my only apology 
 for the trouble to which I have been the cause of 
 subjecting you. 
 
 And again, after an interval of some months, 
 Mrs. Hemans, still writing from Bronwylfa, con- 
 tinues : 
 
 March >]th, 1822. 
 
 I am so far from considering the intelligence 
 with which your last letter has favoured me as of 
 an unpleasant nature that I cannot but congratulate 
 myself upon the gratifying prospect which it holds 
 out. I entirely acquiesce in your opinion as to the 
 necessity of delaying the piece until the next 
 season, and look upon the advantages it is likely 
 to derive from being brought forward under Mr. 
 Charles Kemble's auspices as reasons sufficiently 
 powerful to prevent a moment's hesitation in 
 forming my decision. So many circumstances, 
 indeed, concur at the present time to render this 
 delay advisable, that I can only feel how much I am 
 indebted to the kindness which has pointed them 
 out, and thus enabled me without difficulty to make 
 a determination. Under this conviction, may I re- 
 quest you will inform Mr. C. Kemble that I place 
 the piece in his hands with perfect confidence in his 
 judgment and attention to my interests, and that I 
 leave it to him to be brought out at his own 
 discretion in the course of the next Covent Garden 
 season ? I shall be much obliged if you will have 
 the goodness at the same time to convey to him my 
 thanks for the consideration and liberal feeling which 
 his conduct on this occasion has already manifested. 
 
 I cannot conclude without expressing, however 
 inadequately, the delight with which I have just 
 
v.] ACTED AT CO VENT GARDEN 123 
 
 risen from the perusal of the Martyr of Antioch. 
 It has added another noble proof to those you had 
 already given the world of the power and dignity 
 which genius derives from its consecration to high 
 and sacred purposes. Never were the " gay religions 
 full of pomp and gold" so beautifully contrasted with 
 the deep and internal sublimity of Christianity. I 
 could dwell upon many parts which have made a 
 lasting impression upon my mind, did I not fear 
 that it would appear almost presumptuous to offer a 
 tribute of praise so insignificant as mine to that 
 which must have already received the suffrage of all 
 who are entitled to judge of excellence. With every 
 feeling of esteem and a deep sense of the kindness 
 I have received from you, believe me, dear sir, 
 
 Most truly your obliged 
 
 F. HEMANS. 
 
 The " piece," Procida ; or, the Sicilian Vespers, 
 was produced in due course at Covent Garden ; but, 
 alas ! not even the auspices of Mr. C. Kemble 
 could save it, and it had to be at once withdrawn, 
 though it was afterwards performed with some 
 success at Edinburgh. 
 
 Yet another friend of my father's, Mrs. Opie, was 
 anxious to have a review of her poems in the 
 Quarterly, and made overtures to him on the 
 subject. Her letters, in which it may perhaps be 
 considered that the simplicity of the Quaker lady 
 is slightly dashed by a touch of more worldly be- 
 guilement, are at least characteristic : 
 
 $th Month, \qth, 1834. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I am grateful for thy kindness in calling on 
 me a second time in the midst of thy London 
 
124 LETTER FROM MRS. OPIE [CHAP, 
 
 engagements, and am truly sorry that I did not see 
 thee. I was gone to see Lady Alderson dressed for 
 Court ; but I had rather have seen thee for I need 
 not tell thee that a valued friend is to me a more 
 pleasing sight than a Court dress. Since we met I 
 have been cupped and what not, but without success. 
 However, as Brodie has convinced himself that no 
 vital parts are affected, I am comforted, and hope 
 to be well in time, consoling myself also with the 
 eleventh verse of the twelfth chapter of Hebrews. 
 
 Now, dear friend, bear with me while I presume 
 in a new way on thy indulgence. My company 
 and I have had some important and to me nervous 
 communications since I came to London respecting 
 reviews and reviewers. I have told them that I 
 wish to be reviewed in the Quarterly, and had 
 rather be even criticised (gently) there than not 
 have the honour of being noticed by them at all. 
 They replied that there they could not help me, 
 but asked if I could not help myself. I told them 
 that I knew no one in that quarter but my friend 
 H . H . M ilman. " Then by all means write to him ! " 
 was the eager answer, " and we will send him a copy 
 of the unpublished work." I hope thou wilt believe 
 me when I say that I shrank back appalled from 
 doing this, being unwilling to put thee in so 
 awkward a predicament, since to refuse or comply 
 might be equally disagreeable to thee, and also 
 from the fear of appearing to thee presuming and 
 indelicate. But after a week's deliberation I have 
 resolved to ask thy aid in this momentous crisis. It 
 is so long since I have ventured before the public 
 in this line, that I feel all the alarm of my earliest 
 authorizing days ; and as I believe it will be the 
 last time of my so venturing forth, I am desirous 
 that the public should bid me a kind farewell. (Will 
 these feelings plead my excuse for thus troubling 
 thee ?) The Edinburgh Review reviewed my first 
 
v.] SOLICITS A REVIEW 125 
 
 volume of poems copiously in their first number, and 
 have since reviewed some of my tales ; but the 
 Quarterly have always passed me by. Since I 
 began to write this, I have been encouraged by 
 recollecting that thou wast so kind as to praise my 
 lines on dear Isabella lines which are, I am sure, 
 very inferior to some others in my little work. 
 Thou wilt receive it to-morrow, but without preface, 
 table of contents, or a list of errors. It will be out, 
 I think, next week. How glad I should have been 
 to have had an opportunity of profiting by thy 
 criticisms when it was in MS. ! I did think of 
 sending it to thee, but it passed through the hands 
 of eight critics, and of one terribly severe one, and 
 I thought I would not venture so to intrude upon 
 thy leisure. Farewell, with the best wishes for thee 
 and for those dearest to thee. 
 
 I am ever most faithfully thine, 
 
 AMELIA OPIE. 
 
 How my father se tirait de cette affaire must be 
 inferred from the next letter. 
 
 $th Month, 28M, 1834. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I lose no time in thanking thee for thy kind, 
 candid, and considerate answer to my bold applica- 
 tion. I feared it would embarrass thee, mats tu t'es 
 bien tire* d' affaire. I made a sort of similar resolve 
 to thine when I commenced my own literary career. 
 I resolved never to look over, in order to criticise, 
 any work of fiction in MS., especially any one 
 written by a woman, in order to avoid having 
 improper motives attributed to me when I did not 
 or could not praise ; and I have kept my resolution. 
 But the task of criticising for the public eye is a 
 far more difficult and delicate one, and I wonder 
 not at thy having avoided it. But in the case in 
 question I felt there could be no competition ; 
 
126 MRS. OPIE'S AWE OF LOCKHART [CHAP. 
 
 therefore I knew thy delicacy could not be alarmed 
 by the possibility of my imputing improper motives 
 to thee, had I been a person likely so to judge 
 thee. Allow me to say, in self-justification for my 
 having given tributes " so sacred " to the public 
 eye, that some of them were written at the request 
 of others, and that most were published at the 
 request of many, and the publishing approved by 
 all who are most concerned in the tributes paid. 
 To one dear friend whose repeated bereavements 
 have made her sorrows and her deep sense of them 
 so sacred in our eyes that neither her kindred nor 
 her friends ever dare to name them to her, and 
 whose losses are the theme of two of my lays, I 
 thought it right to apply for leave to print those 
 lines which concerned her, and her answer surprised 
 both me and her relations also. " Tell Amelia," she 
 said, " that I am grateful for her kind and considerate 
 message, but I must own I should have been 
 mortified if I had not seen the lines in her book " ! 
 And this lady (a Friend) has mourned oftener and 
 longer than any one of my acquaintance. I assure 
 thee that the circumstance entirely removed my 
 yet remaining reluctance to print my mournful and 
 monotonous lays. 
 
 But I have not yet said what I most wish to say. 
 No one, I believe, admires thy friend Lockhart's 
 great and delightful talents more than I do, and I 
 also admire him as a very agreeable, handsome 
 man ; but I feel him to be so aweful as the editor 
 of the Quarterly, and as its sublime Jupiter 
 Tonans, that I shrink from being mentioned to him 
 as a humble suppliant for his favour, or I should 
 say his mercy, and I felt my heart beat when I read 
 of thy intentions. I had rather not so appear before 
 him. . . . 
 
 Believe me very gratefully thine, 
 
 AMELIA OPIE. 
 
v.] A BREAKFAST AT MR. ROGERS'S 127 
 
 During his brief sojourns in London my father 
 seems to have been overwhelmed with invitations 
 and engagements, and to have had some difficulty 
 in compressing all that he wished to do into the 
 limited time at his disposal. A few further gleanings 
 from his letters home may be gathered, but they 
 will be few ; and the time of his permanent removal 
 from Reading to London was now approaching. A 
 breakfast at Mr. Rogers's is thus referred to : 
 
 ATHENAEUM, May ioth, 1834. 
 
 Well, my day ought to be a very literary one. I 
 am just come from a breakfast at Rogers's ; present, 
 Sharpe, Luttrell, Hallam, Labouchere, a clever Whig 
 member, Jeffrey, and a Mr. Siddall, an American, 
 who wrote an amusing tour in Spain, and is just 
 returned from a second visit to that country, where 
 all parties rob without distinction of political creed, 
 and only make the difference of murdering, if there 
 is some trifling collision on that interesting subject. 
 I dine with Hallam, and go to the Duke of Sussex's. 
 I went last night with Phil Duncan to hear old 
 Dalton. It was very hot, and he was very dry ; 
 and I think, if he had taken any one of his audience, 
 he might have found an apt illustration of his theory 
 of evaporation. Phil Duncan told me Jekyll's last 
 wicked man, to jest on such a subject : 
 
 Darby and Joan for twenty years 
 
 Lived on in fond attachment ; 
 But Joan declared she never knew 
 
 What happiness a match meant 
 Until as sole executrix 
 
 She put up Darby's hatchment. 
 
 The breakfast was very amusing, as usual one or 
 two of Luttrell's finely pointed sentences contrast- 
 ing with Sharpe's more got-up and elaborate talk. 
 
128 STRIKE OF TAILORS [CHAP. 
 
 Rogers is getting, I think, rather deaf ; but some 
 things he said quite in his purest tone of sarcasm. 
 . . . The latter part of the talk at Rogers' was 
 about Bulwer. It is singular how universally that 
 man has contrived by the most offensive coxcombry 
 to neutralize all the effects of his talents and situation. 
 . . . They have a report that Billy Holmes, the 
 Tory whipper-in, is to be a Commissioner of Customs. 
 The said Billy was dining at the Duke of Cumber- 
 land's, and sate up till four o'clock, and then expressed 
 a wish, a natural one, to go to bed, which his H.R.H. 
 
 took rather in dudgeon. " By G ," says Billy, 
 
 " I am not like Quinten, who is paid ^300 a year 
 for listening. I cannot sit up any longer without 
 salary." . . . 
 
 Do you recollect Sydney Smith's name for 
 Macaulay " the Book in breeches" ? It is curious 
 to see the same idea expressed by different persons. 
 Pozzo di Borgo said of him, " C'est un gros livre ; un 
 peu de 1'usage du monde en feroit un grand homme." 
 The magnanimous journeymen tailors continue their 
 strike. Every one has the privilege of wearing an 
 old coat. They have tried women ; but says the 
 great Mr. Willis, " Poor things ! they can make 
 trousers they can make a waistcoat ; but women 
 
 make a coat! Sir, they are such d d fools." 
 
 Insolent Mr. Willis! he ought to be pricked with 
 needles till he repents. 
 
 May i^th, 1834. 
 
 You will probably have a short letter to-day. 
 Coleridge dines most unfashionably early ; he has 
 asked me, indeed, to come very soon after five, as he 
 is obliged to go to his chambers at nine. Our party 
 at Lansdowne House was as follows : Duke and 
 Duchess of Sutherland, Rogers, Bobus Smith (Can- 
 ning's friend and Sydney's brother), the Fazakerleys, 
 Mr. Liddell, and a fat lord, whose name I did not 
 catch. I sate by the Duchess, near Lord Lans- 
 
v.] LANSDOWNE HOUSE 129 
 
 downe, a round table, at which I always find I can 
 talk a privilege which I asserted, and I hope did 
 not abuse. I got two or three Talleyrandiana ta 
 increase my store. When he landed one time in 
 England, somebody complimented him on his good 
 looks : " Vous avez un air de bonhomie. C'est le 
 mal de la mer qui me 1'a donneV' He was calling 
 on the young Lady Salisbury, who had been reading 
 Madame de Genlis. He asked what she thought 
 of her. She admired her much, but thought there 
 was too much amour propre. " Amour, oui, madame ; 
 mais propre, pas trop." Bobus Smith said that after 
 all one of the best was a compliment paid to himself. 
 Bobus was talking of the beauty of his mother, and 
 saying she was a very handsome woman : " C'etait 
 done apparemment monsieur votre pere qui n'etait pas 
 bien." So much for Talleyrandiana. Now for Whig 
 Phillpottiana. The worthy Bishop and his family 
 were at Sir John Hamlyn Williams's at Clovelly. 
 The young girls were superintended in their apart- 
 ment by the governess, who saw them with great 
 propriety kneel down and say their prayers. She 
 thought she heard the name of Lord Grey. 
 Astonished at this, she asked if their father taught 
 them to pray for Lord Grey. " Yes ; papa says we 
 ought always to pray for our enemies." I fear that 
 I was malicious enough to quote my friend Bertrand : 
 " Hate nobody ; your worst enemy of to-day may be 
 your best friend to-morrow." A stall at Worcester 
 is vacant. Lord A. FitzClarence, having so ade- 
 quately filled the place of Sumner, is thought worthy 
 to fill that of Davidson also. Davidson is the Oriel 
 man who wrote the book on Prophecy. I hear 
 nothing of a curate. Vaux was talking to me of 
 one he had just had, but who sometimes mistook 
 his words, and defined charity " reproving our neigh- 
 bours." What he meant to say no one knows. He 
 disclaimed the word, but the rest of the sermon was 
 
13 ARTICLE ON GIBBON [CHAP. 
 
 a comment on the definition. It rains ; and the clear 
 and sunny London, how miry it looks ! I have just 
 taken my first ride in one of the new state carriages 
 called "omnibus." It cost me a whole sixpence 
 to go from Cumberland Gate, at the end of Oxford 
 Street, to the Bank. I forgot that all this would 
 be a mystery to your narrow geographical notions 
 of London. 
 
 [Undated.] 
 
 No frank was to be procured yesterday at least 
 at the late hour when I commenced my petitions. 
 By the way, of all blunders I asked Cam Hobhouse 
 for one. Now, considering that being Hobhoused is 
 proverbial for being turned out, it was rather an 
 unfortunate request. However, he took it very good- 
 humouredly. . . . Yesterday I set off on another 
 pilgrimage of visits. It rained dinners for the day. 
 Mrs. Lefevre asked me, as did Mansfield. I visited 
 Chantrey. Saw his splendid, most splendid statue 
 of Canning. He was at work on his great horse, 
 which is to bear the portly form of George IV. 
 
 Then, after mentioning two or three other visits, 
 my father continues : 
 
 Think of my not remembering before the other 
 day that my friend Lady Maria Stanley was 
 Gibbon's favourite Maria Holroyd. I fortunately 
 found her at home. When I began to talk on 
 the subject, and mentioned Guizot, she broke out 
 on the admirable article in the Quarterly, with 
 which she had been so much delighted, and said 
 that the author must have known Gibbon to have 
 appreciated him so justly. Of course I told her 
 immediately the real author, and confess that I felt 
 not a little flattered by the compliment, for she had 
 not the remotest suspicion that it was mine. . . . 
 
v.] OFFER OF PREFERMENT 131 
 
 I have just seen Copleston [Bishop of Llandaff, 
 and my father's immediate predecessor in the 
 Deanery, St. Paul's], who has asked me to break- 
 fast to-morrow. Poor man ! he took a house in 
 Whitehall Place to give dinners in the habitable 
 part of the world instead of in the purlieus of 
 St. Paul's. But he has been labouring (well he 
 might !) with such dreadful indigestions that he 
 has not been able to feast a single one of his 
 friends. 
 
 In 1835, during the short administration of Sir 
 Robert Peel, my father was appointed to the 
 rectory of St. Margaret's, Westminster, to which, 
 by a new arrangement which then came into 
 operation for the first time, was attached a pre- 
 bendal stall in the Collegiate Church of St. Peter, 
 Westminster. The nature of this arrangement is 
 explained in Sir Robert Peel's letter offering to 
 recommend my father for the preferment: 
 
 WHITEHALL, A$ril 2nd, 1835. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 You probably are aware of the proposal of 
 the Church Commission in respect to the ministry 
 of St. Margaret's, Westminster, and a certain 
 portion of the revenues of the vacant prebend. 
 
 I am most anxious to recommend to the King for 
 this important spiritual trust a clergyman of the 
 highest character and attainments, and in order 
 that I may best be enabled to fulfil this purpose 
 I make the offer of it to you. The value of the 
 ministry of St. Margaret's is, I believe, about ^400 
 per annum, and the proposal of the Commissioners, 
 of which the King has approved, is to add ^th 
 of the revenues of the stall to St. Margaret's, 
 
132 LEAVES READING [CHAP. 
 
 reserving the remainder for another church in the 
 parish. 
 
 I have the honour to be, with sincere respect, 
 Your faithful servant, 
 
 ROBERT PEEL. 
 
 It will be necessary, if you accept my offer, to 
 relinquish other preferment in the Church. 
 REV. H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 We have lost [writes Miss Mitford in June to a 
 friend] our neighbour Mr. Milman, who has got a 
 London living. It is quite right that he should be 
 promoted ; but I would rather have lost a hundred 
 stupid acquaintances than one friend so entirely 
 after my own fashion although we are fortunate in 
 our neighbours, having many kind ones. 
 
 And she gave but voice to the common feeling 
 when she adds in another place : 
 
 One thing is certain : go where he may, he will 
 find respect and admiration, and leave behind him 
 admiration and regret. 
 
vi.] RECTOR OF ST. MARGARET'S, WESTMINSTER 133 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Leaves Reading Ashburnham House Parish of St. Margaret's 
 "History of Christianity" Edition of Horace Westminster 
 School. 
 
 SIR ROBERT PEEL'S letter was, as may 
 be seen, written on April 2nd, and on the 
 following day my father went up to London in 
 order to obtain fuller particulars of the offered 
 preferment. Not much time could indeed be given 
 to consideration, for the Ministry were on the verge 
 of resignation, and there could be no delay in 
 completing the appointments which it was their 
 duty to make while still in office. Writing from 
 the Athenaeum on the same evening, my father 
 says : 
 
 I considered the subject in all its bearings on my 
 way to town, and I have written at once to accept. 
 The income must be larger, I think considerably 
 larger, than St. Mary's ; the situation, as far as 
 opportunity of distinction, is all I could wish ; the 
 church handsome, not immoderately large ; and, from 
 a prudential point of view, there is one most para- 
 mount consideration we can give our boys (even if 
 I can afford dear Eton for William Henry), we can 
 give the others a capital Westminster education 
 for a very small sum. There is only one serious 
 
134 PREBENDARY OF WESTMINSTER [CHAP. 
 
 drawback : I fear the house will be very bad, at least 
 at first. The greater number of the houses we have 
 been reconnoitring are only accessible through a 
 long, in part very heavy cloister ; and I fear Mr. 
 Button's, if that is to be the rectory, is very in- 
 different indeed. They will indeed be perfectly 
 quiet, and the access is covered all the way ; but 
 of this I shall know more to-morrow. There is, 
 however, one consideration on the other hand : if 
 I am a prebendary, I conceive that I shall have 
 option of houses according to my seniority, so that 
 I may perhaps improve very much. I have hardly 
 yet had time to become nervous. I have not 
 seen Peel, and I have made one attempt in vain 
 to see the Bishop of Gloucester, who, as a Church 
 Commissioner and prebendary, will be able to 
 give me most information about both income and 
 house. 
 
 In another letter, April 4th, reporting progress, 
 my father says among other things : 
 
 I went home, and received a letter from the Chief 
 Clerk in the Home Office, that he had orders to 
 make out the presentation to the stall. Then 
 came a very handsome letter from Peel, saying that 
 his Majesty most cordially approved of the nomina- 
 tion, and expressing a wish to make my acquaint- 
 ance. I am to call on Monday at half-past ten. I 
 expect the papers to be ready about Thursday ; but 
 I suspect I am safe whatever happens, as I believe 
 the sign-manual will be affixed to-day. It will, I 
 think, be important that I should take possession of 
 the living as soon as possible. The parishioners 
 are in great wrath, as well they may be, at having 
 been so much neglected, and I have reason to 
 think that a resident rector will be hailed with 
 great satisfaction. 
 
vi.] INTERVIEW WITH SIR ROBERT PEEL 135 
 
 An account of the interview with Sir Robert Peel 
 is given in the next letter : 
 
 ATHEJSLEUM, Monday, April bth, 1835. 
 Thank you for your very affectionate letter. I 
 hope to thank you in person to-morrow. I shall 
 return to dinner : must be in London again on 
 Friday morning, be installed on Saturday, and " read 
 in " in the Abbey on Monday. But I am too long 
 in coming to my interview with Peel. It lasted two 
 or three minutes, but nothing could be more kind, 
 more gentlemanly, or more flattering. He actually 
 
 almost apologized for having named before me, 
 
 and said that I was ti\t first person to whom he had 
 wished to show a mark of respect for talents and my 
 professional career. I saw that he was busy, and 
 did not wish to enter much into conversation, so 
 got up and said that his time was too valuable to 
 the country for me to trespass further upon it. I 
 am receiving full showers of congratulations. The 
 Bishop of Gloucester assures me that the appoint- 
 ment has given general satisfaction. 
 
 The Whigs, indeed, seem to have been in quite 
 as high good-humour with the appointment as the 
 Tories : 
 
 Spring Rice tells me that all his friends most 
 highly approve of my promotion ; and Rogers said, 
 " It is their [the Tories] best deed, and they have 
 done many." 
 
 With St. Margaret's and its splendid painted 
 window at the east end my father was evidently 
 much pleased, describing it as " perfection for a 
 large church " ; and after " reading in " at the 
 Abbey, he says : 
 
136 ASHBURNHAM HOUSE [CHAP. 
 
 What a splendid, almost appalling sight is the 
 Abbey crowded with a most attentive congrega- 
 tion, as seen from the communion-table ! 
 
 The difficulty which has been alluded to in the 
 previous letters about finding a suitable residence 
 was happily solved, mainly through the thoughtful 
 consideration of the Sub- Dean, Lord John Thynne 
 (between whom and my father a warm friendship 
 grew up), and my father became the occupier, first 
 as Lord John's tenant, afterwards by succession in 
 his own right, of Ashburnham House. So much 
 of historical interest is attached to this house, that 
 I do not scruple to quote a passage from Dean 
 Stanley's " Historical Memorials of Westminster 
 Abbey," in which it is mentioned : 
 
 It was at this time (1731) that an alarming fire 
 took place in the Precincts. On the site of the 
 old Refectory was a stately house, built by Inigo 
 Jones, and illustrated by Sir J. Soane. A beautiful 
 staircase of this period still remains. It has gone 
 through various changes. In 1708 it was occupied 
 by Lord Ashburnham, and from him took the name 
 of Ashburnham House. In 1739 it reverted to 
 the Chapter, and was divided into two prebendal 
 houses, of which the larger was in later years 
 connected with the literature of England, when 
 occupied first as a tenant by Fynes Clinton, the 
 laborious author of the " Fasti Hellenici," and then 
 by Henry Milman, poet, historian, and divine, as 
 Canon of Westminster. In the intervening period 
 it had become the property of the Crown, and in 
 1712 received what was called the King's Library, 
 and in 1730 the library of Sir Robert Cotton. 
 Dr. Bentley happened to be in town at the moment 
 
vi.] LIFE AT WESTMINSTER 137 
 
 when the house took fire. Dr. Freind, the head- 
 master, who came to the rescue, has recorded how 
 he saw a figure issuing from the burning house 
 into Little Dean's Yard, in his dressing-gown, 
 with a flowing wig on his head, and a huge volume 
 under his arm. It was the great scholar carrying 
 off the Alexandrian MS. of the New Testament. 
 The books were first placed in the Little Cloisters, 
 in the Chamber of the Captain, and in the boarding- 
 house in Little Dean's Yard, and then on the 
 following Monday removed to the old Dormitory, 
 just vacated, till, in 1757, they reached their present 
 abode in the British Museum.* 
 
 It may be added that, on the death of Lord 
 John Thynne, who, on my father's removal to 
 St. Paul's, had again come into occupation of 
 Ashburnham House, that house, with the one 
 adjoining, which had formerly formed part of it, 
 was transferred to the governing body of West- 
 minster School, under the provisions of the Public 
 Schools Act of 1868, subject to an arrangement 
 with the Ecclesiastical Commissioners. It is curious 
 to note that, of the two houses officially occupied 
 by my father in London, the one, Ashburnham 
 House, was built by Inigo Jones ; the other, the 
 Deanery of St. Paul's, by Christopher Wren. 
 
 The fifteen years during which my father re- 
 mained at Westminster were the most laborious 
 of his life. To all his literary and other avocations 
 was added, with the first claim upon his attention, 
 the care of a vast parish, of which the western 
 boundary-stone must be sought in the centre of 
 * Pages 554-5. 
 
138 STATE OF THE PARISH [CHAP. 
 
 Kensington Gardens,* and which comprised within 
 its limits some of the worst and most notoriously 
 infamous streets and alleys that had clustered about 
 the ancient sanctuary. Of these a large portion, 
 including picturesque old Tothill Street, with its 
 gabled roofs, made way for Victoria Street, or 
 were swept away in carrying out the plans of the 
 first Westminster Improvement Commissioners, in 
 whose schemes, both as rector of St. Margaret's 
 and as a member of the Chapter of Westminster, 
 my father was deeply interested, and did all in 
 his power to assist. To those who can remember 
 what the purlieus of the Abbey then were, and can 
 compare them with what they now are, the following 
 letter to Sir Edwin Pearson, who had taken an 
 active part in promoting these great improvements, 
 and had been chairman of the Commission when 
 Victoria Street was opened in August, 1851, may 
 still be of interest : 
 
 LORD WARDEN HOTEL, DOVER, 
 October, 1856. 
 
 DEAR SIR EDWIN, 
 
 Though your letter was forwarded to me 
 while I was on the Continent, in the hurry and 
 distraction of sight-seeing, I could not reply to it 
 in a manner satisfactory either to you or myself. 
 
 * The parochial authorities, on the annual ' ' beating of the bounds," 
 used, I believe, to proceed in a boat up the Serpentine, with official 
 maces and wands, and so find their way to the boundary in the 
 Gardens ; whipping, perhaps, according to ancient custom, a small 
 boy at the stone marking the division of the parishes, that he might 
 have occasion to remember the circumstance in future years, should 
 he be called upon as " oldest inhabitant" to testify on a disputed 
 boundary. 
 
vi.] LETTER TO SIR EDWIN PEARSON 139 
 
 I take the earliest opportunity, now that I am 
 safe and quiet on this side of the water, of writing 
 on the subject, and can only express my earnest 
 hope that my answer may not be too late for 
 your purpose. 
 
 Nothing could be more deplorable than the state 
 of Westminster before the Westminster Improve- 
 ment Commissioners commenced their labours. 
 From the first period of my ministry as rector of 
 St. Margaret's, I made up my mind that nothing 
 could be done for the moral change (to speak of 
 the spiritual condition would be a mockery) of the 
 dense and swarming population without a most 
 extensive demolition of the wretched buildings 
 which they inhabited. There was a considerable 
 area covered with houses in which to have lived 
 was to forfeit all character and to be set down 
 as thief or prostitute. These houses were old, 
 worn out, not worth repair. Those at least which 
 belonged to the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, 
 which were held on the short leases which alone 
 the Chapter could grant, and hundreds of others 
 which had fallen into the same state of decay and 
 wretchedness, could only be underlet to persons 
 who gave high rents and remunerated themselves 
 by reletting them for the worst purposes. One 
 whole row remained for several years untenanted 
 because the Dean and Chapter would not renew 
 the leases. No moral or religious influences could 
 approach these places with any possibility of 
 success. Some years before I came to West- 
 minster they were hardly safe, not indeed till the 
 establishment of the new police. In general it 
 was a shifting population, of which of course no 
 hold could be taken ; and though neither myself 
 nor my curates ever met with any insult, it was 
 generally said that no one but the parson and 
 doctor could enter them without danger. I speak 
 
140 WESTMINSTER IMPROVEMENTS [CHAP. 
 
 of the moral state rather than as regards sanitary 
 questions. For bad as was the condition as to 
 the latter point (so extraordinary are the anomalies 
 of Westminster, and so imperfectly I am persuaded 
 is the subject understood), the two seasons of 
 cholera and the more fatal influenza (of 1837) 
 affected these districts much less than others which 
 were better drained, better ventilated, and better 
 supplied with water. Still, even on this account 
 it was absolutely necessary for the public good 
 to sweep away an immense number of these 
 miserable hovels, recognized irreclaimable haunts 
 of rogues of every description and women of the 
 lowest profligacy. 
 
 I therefore hailed with the utmost satisfaction 
 every scheme for Westminster improvement which 
 involved the destruction of the greatest number of 
 these doomed dwellings. When the scheme in 
 which you took so large a part was proposed, I 
 thought it my duty to devote all the time and 
 energy at my command to further its objects, in 
 which, if some engaged, I fear, from lamentably 
 miscalculated views of profit, you, I am fully per- 
 suaded, were actuated by motives of Christian 
 benevolence and the desire of moral amelioration. 
 As a member of the Chapter of Westminster, as 
 chairman of the united vestry of St. Margaret's 
 and St. John's, as intermediator between the parties 
 interested and the Office of Woods and Forests 
 (under successive Governments), I necessarily and 
 willingly took a very active and prominent share 
 in the discussions. The Dean and Chapter of 
 Westminster saw, with myself, that the scheme 
 might involve some immediate loss of property ; 
 yet they did not hesitate to make the sacrifice of 
 these discreditable possessions, of which they could 
 not rid themselves but by Act of Parliament, for 
 the moral improvement of the neighbourhood, even 
 
vi.] TRIBUTE TO SIR EDWIN PEARSON 141 
 
 if they had not had ground to hope that the im- 
 provement in their other Westminster property 
 would compensate for the loss. From them, there- 
 fore, I met with the most cordial co-operation. The 
 vestries behaved with remarkable good sense and 
 liberality ; for they saw that the parishes must 
 eventually, even if remotely, be much benefited 
 by the change. The Government (Lord Carlisle 
 was then in office) lent its aid I presume not only 
 on the general principle of encouraging public im- 
 provement, but for the special reason that, of all 
 places, this foul mass of irredeemable vice, misery, 
 possibly pestilence, ought not to remain in the close 
 neighbourhood of, or rather intervening between, 
 the Courts of Law, the Houses of Parliament, and 
 the Royal Palace. 
 
 The demolition took place, and most assuredly 
 the alteration in the condition of Westminster, 
 even before I left it (though such changes must be 
 slow), was very greatly indeed for the better. The 
 only thing to regret was that the failure of the 
 Commissioners' funds prevented the scheme from 
 being fully carried out, and left much which ought 
 to have followed the fate of the rest. 
 
 To you, Sir Edwin, to your sacrifice of time, to 
 your years of anxiety, which must have been most 
 severe, and of labour, which I know to have been 
 very heavy, I fear to your great pecuniary loss, I 
 must attribute the chief merit in this beneficial 
 change ; and as I have said (though no doubt you 
 did not originally contemplate such serious involve- 
 ment), I feel confident that among your leading 
 motives was the public good, the religious and 
 moral improvement of Westminster. I think it 
 but justice to say that, throughout the long and 
 complicated transactions which spread over several 
 years, my constant intercourse with you led me 
 to form a very high estimate of your fairness, 
 
142 SALUTARY CHANGES [CHAP. 
 
 honour, and liberality. Whether the affairs of the 
 Commissioners in which others were chiefly con- 
 cerned, and in which you had only a voice, were 
 conducted with prudence, foresight, and in perfect 
 good faith to all concerned, it is neither my duty 
 nor my vocation to express an opinion. But if 
 any great public improvement has been achieved, 
 if some part of the disgraceful vice and wretched- 
 ness which was accumulated in that district has been 
 removed and I have no doubt that by being scattered 
 over a wider surface and dissipated from one reek- 
 ing and irreclaimable centre of filth and misery it 
 has been much diminished it is chiefly to you that 
 the public is indebted for the salutary change. 
 This must be your consolation for years of un- 
 rewarded solicitude, I fear for large pecuniary losses. 
 I only wish that the Government had the power 
 and the will to carry out the plans contemplated 
 for the whole district ; it would then appear how 
 great a public benefactor he was who originated 
 and so far conducted with success the most difficult 
 part of the great design.* 
 
 Believe me, my dear Sir Edwin, 
 
 With much respect and esteem, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 H. H. MlLMAN. 
 
 I have ventured to introduce this letter in spite 
 of its length, as giving a vivid, if painful, impression 
 
 * It would be out of place here to enter upon the subject of 
 Sir Edwin Pearson's subsequent relations with the Government and 
 of the facts connected with the chairmanship of the Westminster 
 Improvement Commission in 1862. My father's recognition of his 
 great services upon the first Commission, and of .the impartiality 
 and uprightness by which all his proceedings were guided, is amply 
 confirmed by the contemporary evidence of the Government, the 
 Dean and Chapter of Westminster, Lord Coleridge, the Attorney- 
 General, Lord Hatherley, and many others who had occasion to go 
 carefully into the matter. 
 
vi.] LITERARY WORK 143 
 
 of the character of a large section of the parish in 
 which my father's labours were for some years cast, 
 and of the anxieties and responsibilities with which 
 these years were overshadowed. 
 
 It was to many a cause of surprise that my 
 father should have been able, in the midst of 
 such other absorbing occupations, to find leisure 
 to continue his literary work ; and this was indeed 
 only made possible by unwearied assiduity and 
 his habit of utilizing every moment of the day. 
 One hour at least for writing he always secured 
 before breakfast, and this one uninterrupted hour 
 he used often to say was worth more to him 
 than all the rest of the day put together. His 
 principal works during this period were the com- 
 pletion of his edition of Gibbon, published, as has 
 been already said, in 1839, and of which a new 
 edition was called for in 1845 > his " History of 
 Christianity from the Birth of Christ to the Abolition 
 of Paganism in the Roman Empire " ; and a labour 
 of love an edition and Life of Horace, beauti- 
 fully illustrated with drawings, chiefly from the 
 remains of ancient art, by Mr. George Scharf, jun. 
 The object of the edition of Gibbon has been 
 perhaps sufficiently explained in a previous chapter ; 
 and the design of the history, which, as we have 
 seen, grew out of the " History of the Jews," may 
 be best stated in the author's own words : 
 
 It is the author's object, the difficulty of which he 
 himself fully appreciates, to portray the genius of 
 
144 "HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY" [CHAP. 
 
 Christianity of each successive age in connection 
 with that of the age itself; entirely to discard all 
 polemic views ; to mark the origin and progress of 
 all the subordinate diversities of belief; their origin 
 in the circumstances of the place or time in which 
 they appeared ; their progress from their adaptation 
 to the prevailing state of opinion or sentiment ; 
 rather than directly to confute error or to establish 
 truth : in short, to exhibit the reciprocal influence 
 of civilization on Christianity, of Christianity on 
 civilization. 
 
 Speaking of this book, Dean Stanley (I still 
 prefer to invoke other judgments than my own) 
 says : 
 
 No other ecclesiastical history, at least in England, 
 had ever ventured so boldly, and yet so calmly and 
 gently, to handle the points of contact which unite 
 the first beginnings of Christianity to the course of 
 secular and human events. It touched some of the 
 tenderest points of the theological mind of English- 
 men. Its author might well have expected a re- 
 newal of the tempest which had greeted his earlier 
 work on the history of the Jewish dispensation. But, 
 by one of those singular caprices which characterize 
 the turns of public opinion, instead of a whirlwind 
 there followed a profound calm. Lord Melbourne 
 used to say that there must have been a general 
 assembly of all the clergy in the kingdom, in which 
 they had bound themselves by a solemn compact 
 never to mention the book to any human being. 
 
 Dean Stanley is not, however, quite accurate when 
 he goes on to say that the silence with which the 
 book was received was broken only by a solitary 
 review, more favourable than might have been 
 
vi.] EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE 145 
 
 expected, by Dr. Newman in the British Critic. 
 There was certainly one other I believe more a 
 furious attack, written by I know not whom, in 
 Frasers Magazine of the day, a quarter from which, 
 under later editorships, it would have least been 
 looked for. Undeterred by open attack or significant 
 silence, my father still held on in the course which 
 he had marked out for himself, and the completion 
 of the " History of Early Christianity" did but set 
 him free to lay the foundations of his greatest 
 work, the " History of Latin Christianity," which 
 has been described as being in fact "a complete 
 epic and philosophy of mediaeval Christendom." 
 
 Pressed by inexorable parochial cares, deep, but 
 not lost, in historical investigations, my father was 
 still keenly alive to all the current interests of the 
 time, and, as well through the Quarterly Review 
 as by constant intercourse with his friends, kept 
 in touch with them. His mind dwelt much upon 
 the subject of Education ; and an article of his 
 upon the <% Education of the People," especially 
 as appearing in so conservative an organ as the 
 Quarterly Review, seems to have attracted particular 
 attention, and to have had a considerable influence. 
 Under date of November, 1846, Mr. Leonard Horner 
 writes : 
 
 The article in the Quarterly on Education is 
 by Milman. I talked with him about it, and he 
 admitted his being the author. I told him that he 
 had rendered a great service to the cause, and had 
 greatly smoothed the way for Lord John. Much 
 
 10 
 
146 WESTMINSTER SCHOOL [CHAP. 
 
 as that great step of the Government is wanted, I 
 wish that it could be postponed until after the next 
 election, for anything that will satisfy the Dissenters 
 will be objected to by the Church, and vice versa. 
 
 But the measures which were carried for the 
 advancement of elementary instruction were for 
 nearly a quarter of a century little more than 
 tentative, and a general system of State education, 
 such as was adumbrated in this article, had to wait 
 for the Act of 1870. 
 
 During the years of his residence in the Cloisters, 
 my father always took a great interest in West- 
 minster School, of which the Dean and Chapter 
 were then the responsible governors, and to which 
 he had sent his own sons. The school was not 
 in a very flourishing condition, and I remember 
 that, when the question of reviving the annual boat 
 race with Eton was under discussion, he strongly 
 advised the headmaster to give his consent, arguing 
 that, if Westminster could beat her rival in nothing 
 else, it should do so at least on the river a result 
 which, I may add so long afterwards, his sons on 
 more than one occasion helped to bring about. 
 Partly for the same reason, to keep the school 
 before the world, but more from the familiarity 
 which it gave the boys with colloquial Latinity, he 
 was also a strenuous supporter of the old custom 
 which provided for the annual performance at 
 Christmas-time of a play of Terence by the Queen 
 scholars on a stage erected in the dormitory. These 
 performances he not only himself attended, but 
 
vi.] THE WESTMINSTER PLAY 147 
 
 used generally to invite a select party of his friends 
 to accompany him. There, with Macaulay, Miss 
 Berry (Horace Walpole's Miss Berry), and many 
 others, his old friend Dr. Hawtrey, headmaster and 
 afterwards provost of Eton, might regularly be seen, 
 on the watch, it was always averred, as a malicious 
 Etonian, for a false quantity in the somewhat canine 
 Latinity of the Epilogue, and giving vent to his 
 feelings in a low, but to the actors appalling, whistle, 
 if he caught, or thought he caught, a halting number. 
 A few lines by the late Dean of Christchurch, 
 Dr. Liddell, who became headmaster of the school 
 two or three years before my father was moved to 
 St. Paul's, inserted in the Prologue to the Andria, 
 represented in 1850, may be given as a reminiscence 
 of my father's connection with the school, and as 
 an appreciation of the help which his support had 
 been to the play : 
 
 Nunc autem binis gratulandum erit viris, 
 
 Quorum unus nuper his discessit sedibus, 
 
 Alter* in illius merit6 successit locum. 
 
 Illi qui nunc germanam huic nostrae Ecclesiam 
 
 Regit Praefectus, gratulamur unice : 
 
 His ille ludis semper adfuit favens, 
 
 Puerilibusque indulsit his conatibus, 
 
 Judex praeclarus, quippe qui cantu suo 
 
 Musam Sophocleum suscitare noverit. 
 
 Necdum consenuit studium ; namque (ut caetera 
 
 Omittam, historica, critica)jam in nostras manus 
 
 Venusinum sic, uti vixit, vatem tradidit, 
 
 Et tanquam in speculo mores exhibuit viri, 
 
 Pota poetam dignus qui illustraverit. 
 
 * Dr. Cureton, my father's successor at St. Margaret's. 
 
148 MRS. AUSTIN [CHAP. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Correspondence with Mrs. Austin Letter from Mr. Everett Over- 
 worked Domestic Sorrow Nominated to the Deanery of St. 
 Paul's Congratulations. 
 
 AFTER his removal to London my father's life 
 was cast so much among his friends, literary 
 correspondence was so completely superseded by 
 personal intercourse, that it is impossible to construct 
 any consecutive narrative out of such few of his 
 letters as may have survived. Some of these, 
 however, even if abruptly introduced, and with no 
 rigid adherence to chronological arrangement, may 
 still, I think, be read with interest, and none more 
 so than those to his old and attached friend Mrs. 
 Austin, wife of the distinguished jurist Mr. John 
 Austin, and perhaps best generally known as the 
 accomplished translator of Ranke's " History of the 
 Popes " a lady who, not only by her own writings, 
 but by her intimate personal acquaintance with 
 the leading literary characters in Germany and in 
 France, so largely contributed to the knowledge and 
 appreciation of foreign, especially of German, litera- 
 ture in this country. 
 
 On returning from his usual summer or autumn 
 holiday, my father had found a long letter from 
 
VIL] THE ARCHBISHOP OF ERLAU 149 
 
 Mrs. Austin, written from Dresden, where she 
 was then residing, full of entertaining particulars 
 of persons and places that she had seen, and 
 consulting my father on the choice of a German 
 work for translation. This, as a specimen, is her 
 account of an Hungarian archbishop and poet : 
 
 My beloved Archbishop has most earnestly invited 
 us to visit him at Erlau ; and if this banishment 
 from England is to continue, it is not impossible 
 we may go. I shall not write a " City of the 
 Magyar," but I will tell you something of what I 
 see. For my soul's sake I almost hope to go. 
 I never before saw a human being in whom the 
 whole spirit of Christ's teaching and example 
 appeared to me so manifested, so unmixed with the 
 thousand counter-precepts and exigencies of the 
 world. He seems to live and move in an atmo- 
 sphere of sanctity and benevolence and humility 
 which even the grossest and rudest natures feel and 
 do homage to. In Germany he is better known as 
 the poet Pyrker.* I have met with no foreigner 
 who had such a keen enjoyment and such a nice 
 discrimination of English poetry. How you would 
 like each other! I talked to him of you. He is 
 firmly persuaded, good man, that England is fast 
 returning to the bosom of the Mother Church, and 
 takes a great interest in Puseyism. This illusion 
 is extremely common, I might say universal, among 
 the Catholics of the Continent the Poles especially, 
 who are generally very zealous, of course as being 
 a persecuted people. We had a specimen of a 
 Puseyite at Carlsbad fitted to undeceive them 
 
 Mr. . At his request I introduced him to the 
 
 Archbishop. In five minutes I turned round and 
 
 * Job. Ladislaw Pyrker, 1772-1847. A collected edition of his 
 poetical works was published in three volumes at Stuttgart, 1832. 
 
150 A VISIT TO TENBY [CHAP. 
 
 found him demonstrating to the mild and venerable 
 man that the English Church was the true and only 
 Catholic Church. " Der ist ein beharrliche Pfaffe," 
 said a man to Lady William. 
 
 My father's answer follows : 
 
 CLOISTERS, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 
 November \$th, 1841. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. AUSTIN, 
 
 Most sincerely do I thank you for your 
 interesting letter, interesting, as expressive of your 
 kindly feelings towards me and mine ; interesting, 
 as giving me intelligence of yourself and Mr. 
 Austin ; and interesting for its notices of your 
 German friends and acquaintance. . . . What 
 temptations you hold out in Dresden ! If I had no 
 ties of duty or of domestic love at home, nothing 
 would delight me more than weeks with the 
 Raffaelles and Correggios of the gallery for my 
 morning orisons, and yourself with some of your 
 agreeable and accomplished friends in the evening. 
 But of course we are settled for the winter, and I 
 have much misgiving as to our future movements in 
 summer, at least at present, allowing us to take a 
 long flight. My poor little girl, now my only girl, 
 is still an invalid. I fear she may be some time 
 almost helplessly so, though I hope for the best. 
 We passed the summer at a very pretty watering- 
 place in South Wales Tenby where she seemed 
 rapidly improving ; but the mistimed accident of a 
 bilious attack threw her back completely. We had 
 gone to Tenby, in evil hour, by sea. Happily, I took 
 my carriage, and was thus enabled to make my way 
 back through a most lovely country by land, and to 
 visit some few friends. Tenby we liked much. We 
 wandered about the rocks with our boys, whom we 
 begin to think the best society, and literally neither 
 knew nor hardly made acquaintance with a soul. 
 
vii.] BISHOP THIRLWALL 151 
 
 Our first resting-place on our return was 
 Abergwili, the delightful house of our friend the 
 Bishop of St. David's. Are you so far gone that 
 you will not admit a Protestant Bishop to rival at 
 least the Catholic Bishop, if not the Archbishop, of 
 your affections ? It is a very remarkable thing to 
 find Thirlwall, with the habits of mind which you 
 well know, bending himself, and gracefully bending 
 himself, into a very useful and popular Welsh Bishop. 
 His fluency in Welsh, and the rapidity with which 
 he has learned it, is surprising ; and the golden 
 opinions which it has won him may be supposed. 
 Happily, too, he has followed a cold, shy, aristo- 
 cratical prelate, who had a morbid dislike to his 
 rude clergy. Thirlwall has seen at once that the 
 worst way to make men gentlemen is to show 
 that you think them otherwise. Even ordinary 
 acts of courtesy make a most favourable impression. 
 But though he has a most charming residence in 
 the vale of the Towy, with the blue river at the 
 end of his lawn, and romantic hills all around, and 
 he has a very keen enjoyment of natural scenery, it 
 is impossible not to see that he is oppressed by 
 uncongenial business, pining after congenial society, 
 and looking with a longing eye at books which are 
 surprised to find themselves so long undisturbed on 
 his shelves. He was most hospitable, and we were 
 tempted to stay two or three days longer than we 
 had contemplated. From him we went for two days 
 to a splendid house, in point of situation and comfort, 
 of Lord Cawdor's Golden Grove. It is built in 
 another part of the grounds, but on the same estate 
 to which Jeremy Taylor retired during the troubles 
 under the wing of his patron, Lord Carbery. We 
 then made our way slowly through the lovely 
 scenery of Carmarthenshire and Monmouthshire to 
 Gloucester, and so to Bowood. Both Lord and 
 Lady Lansdowne were well. He is unquestionably 
 
152 BOWOOD [CHAP. 
 
 aged, and I think his friends must rejoice at his 
 release from the toil of office. Lady Lansdowne 
 was, as ever, the very embodied spirit of kindness ; 
 her affectionate warmth to my wife (I can use no 
 other word), and her exceeding interest in my poor 
 girl, I can never forget. 
 
 We have been in town about three weeks, but 
 have found our own fireside so pleasant, and Mrs. 
 Milman is so little inclined to leave her patient, 
 that we have seen few of our friends, Sydney is 
 in town, and, as usual, the air is resonant with his 
 witticisms ; but we have not been fortunate about 
 meeting him. We invited him to dinner this very 
 day ; his excuse was that he was engaged to two 
 giddy young girls named Berry. This implies, 
 what I hear from other quarters, that these good 
 friends, whom with your daughter and Sir Alexander 
 we just missed at Bowood, are in high health and 
 enjoyment of their ever-renewed youth. 
 
 As to our public affairs, in which Mr. Austin may 
 feel interest, there is little to communicate. The 
 Ministry and their friends feel strong and confident. 
 Matters have turned out well for them. Of course, 
 as their predecessors would, they take all the credit 
 of giving an heir-apparent to the country. The 
 peaceful turn of affairs in America is of great 
 importance, and to those who are like myself 
 inclined to Quaker opinions about war is matter 
 of rejoicing. As for the smaller misfortunes, the 
 Exchequer affair is all thrown on the shoulders of 
 our friend Lord Monteagle, who, thinking that he 
 had subsided into a quiet well-paid sinecure, finds 
 himself involved in this embarrassing business. 
 " Rob me the Exchequer, Hal," seems to have 
 come to pass. The fire in the Tower has settled a 
 question which was beginning to make some stir, 
 and it is now agreed that nothing could be worse 
 than our muskets, now they are all burned. 
 
vii.] GERMAN LITERATURE 153 
 
 Enough of our affairs. Now for Germany and 
 literature, and yourself. I wish that I could make 
 up my mind how to advise you in the work of 
 translation. The difficulty is to find a book which 
 is intrinsically good and likely to be popular I do 
 not mean in the vulgar sense, but which will be 
 acceptable to the better order of English readers. 
 I agree with you about Schlosser, but he will not 
 suit our atmosphere. He is a sour fellow at 
 bottom, though very shrewd and clever con- 
 temptuous, often, of men better than himself. 
 Ranke's " Fursten " will not cost you much trouble, 
 and his name, I think, must now stand so well with 
 us, that the volume will, I doubt not, succeed, as far 
 as any book will at present which has no bearing on 
 our modern controversies. I have just got Ammon's 
 book. The title had entirely misled me, or I mis- 
 construed the title. I supposed that it was an 
 historical disquisition on the change of Christianity 
 into the religion of the world that it related to the 
 past. I find that it is speculative and prospective 
 a view of Christianity so modified as to be a 
 religion der Vernunft. Though I am rather dis- 
 appointed at not finding what I expected, I am very 
 anxious to read the book. I see that, though you 
 are so far gone with your Catholic Prelates or 
 aspirants to Prelacy, you have some room for a 
 worthy and pious Materialist such as Ammon * would 
 be thought. But do you bring them together ? Will 
 they meet in friendly intercourse under your harmon- 
 izing influence ? I do not think that we are all quite 
 prepared for the change anticipated by your Roman 
 Catholic friends. My worthy diocesan, Charles 
 James, does not seem inclined to take refuge from 
 the onslaught of Sydney in the bosom of our ancient 
 
 * Christopher Friedrich Ammon, Protestant theologian, 1766-1850. 
 The title of the book referred to is " Fortbildung des Christenthums 
 zur Weltreligion." 
 
RELIGIOUS AND IRRELIGIOUS BELIEF [CHAP. 
 
 Mother. He protests against Oxford. On one of 
 his refractory Puseyite and more than Puseyite 
 clergy quoting the authority of St. Ambrose, he 
 replied, " Sir, St. Ambrose was not Bishop of 
 London, and I am. Yours, etc." A certain Mr. 
 Sibthorp, brother of the Tory Colonel, has, how- 
 ever, taken the perilous step to the great alarm of 
 Oxford, whence Sewell writes word that " they are 
 in an awful state." Sibthorp has gone round the 
 compass, having been a violent Evangelical, and, as 
 I hear, Radical at Ryde. He is not a man of much 
 talent ; but all converts to all forms of faith become 
 at once the most learned and the most pious among 
 those whom they join, while they sink to idiots or 
 dolts among those they leave. What a curious and 
 most instructive book might be made, if it could be 
 done by any single hand, of the state of religious 
 and irreligious belief, if the expression be allowed, 
 throughout Europe ! I would begin with Germany. 
 I mean a simple dispassionate survey of the count- 
 less schools and modifications of religious thought 
 and feeling. It would be instructive, I think, as at 
 least allaying mutual hostility, and showing that 
 unity of creed by no means arises out of or leads to 
 unity of heart that, if they would come together, we 
 should often find men of directly opposite speculative 
 opinions more really accordant and congenial than 
 those who would not scruple to sign the same 
 articles. It is for this reason, as well as many 
 others, that I feel myself so much obliged to you for 
 all the glimpses you give me of the character of 
 religious men and religious opinion in Germany. 
 Bolzano's works I have never seen, and they do not 
 appear to be known among our foreign booksellers. 
 I have sent for the autobiography. You have no 
 doubt heard that they have now two girls in the 
 Tyrol with the stigmata, which always bleed on the 
 Friday. Lord Shrewsbury has visited them, and 
 
vii.] AUGUSTIN THIERRY 155 
 
 sent out an account of them. The general descrip- 
 tion is consistent with a complete case of animal 
 magnetism. The symptoms, movements, the whole 
 behaviour excepting that they are apparently simple 
 girls on whom strong religious impressions have been 
 made are exactly the same as those of Dr. Elliot- 
 son's damsels at London University. The stigmata 
 are not so easily accounted for ; but if anything could 
 astonish one in this changeable world, it would be 
 to find such stories seriously, nay earnestly, brought 
 forward by a British peer in our day as impregnable 
 arguments for Transubstantiation. 
 
 I shall hope that you will keep up the kind 
 practice of writing to me ; for I assure you, my 
 dear Mrs. Austin, that both Mrs. Milman and 
 myself feel most truly interested in all that relates 
 to you. It is not merely the selfish gratification 
 of the amusement which your letters afford us, but 
 from sincere regard for you and Mr. Austin, that I 
 express this wish. 
 
 And five years later, my father still writing 
 from the Cloisters, the following letters were inter- 
 changed : 
 
 [No date.} 
 
 DEAR MR. MILMAN, 
 
 I need not tell you what pleasure it gives me 
 to execute the commission of my excellent friend the 
 Count de Circourt. He is a great admirer of yours, 
 and worthy to be so a gentleman and a Christian, 
 full of knowledge and noble sentiments. As to poor 
 Augustin Thierry, you know his state blind and 
 utterly perclus in all his limbs ; there remains nothing 
 active or vigorous about him but his head and his 
 heart. I have not yet seen him, but I shall establish 
 on my mediation with you a claim to visit him. Let 
 me just add that M. de Circourt's brother, Count 
 
156 COUNT ADOLPHE DE CIRCOURT [CHAP. 
 
 Albert de C., has lately published a book on the 
 Moors in Spain, which I hear highly spoken of. 
 He (Count Adolphe) has never even mentioned it 
 to me ; but if that matter comes under your pen, 
 and if you should chance to have read and approved 
 the book, you would certainly give him an inout 
 pleasure in naming it. Your little note about 
 Dunoyer came most opportunely to console him 
 in the midst of a very disagreeable affair with the 
 Academic, where he is involved in a feud with 
 Cousin, Thiers, & Co. They accuse him of being 
 a mate'rialiste per Bacco. The impudence of men ! 
 I showed M. Guizot your judgment of that admirable 
 (not faultless) book, and we couldn't help laughing 
 at the pious horror of the metaphysician. These 
 academies are real foyers of intrigues and cabals 
 and heartburnings. Witness poor de Vigny immo- 
 lated to M. de Mole's desire to make up to M. Thiers 
 and the Imperialists. While I live I shall never 
 forget that scene. The great lady of the High 
 
 Catholic party has called on me(Duchesse de ), 
 
 the pink of fashion and piety ; so I would have 
 you prepared for the worst. At the other ear sits 
 Auguste Comte, talking of the dangers to morality 
 from any and all religion. He at least is honest, 
 poor fellow, and not angry at seeing how little I am 
 convinced. We want you here sometimes ; there 
 are many prepared to welcome you with affectionate 
 respect. If strangers feel this, what should I, who 
 know something more of you than your books, full 
 of charity, wisdom, and light ? If you do not come, 
 I have little hope of seeing you. I shall hardly 
 come to England, if I can get my children to cross 
 the water. I have my eye on Brittany, where, as 
 well as in Normandy, we have friends and serviteurs, 
 i.e. people kind enough to take trouble to find 
 us what we want ; and there I hope to see all my 
 darlings. M. Guizot is well. I was there last night 
 
vii.] M. DUNOYER 157 
 
 went to present a Legitimist (Vicomte de la Ville- 
 marque, author of the " Chants Bretons "), together 
 with an English naval officer. These seem like the 
 combinations of a kaleidoscope. My health is good 
 for nothing, and makes Ranke very oppressive. 
 Pazienza. Suppose you write to poor Thierry. 
 You know my husband's sentiments towards you. 
 He is tolerably well. 
 
 Yours, S. AUSTIN. 
 
 CLOISTERS, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 
 June bth t 1846. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. AUSTIN, 
 
 I have delayed the acknowledgment of your 
 very friendly and acceptable letter till I could read 
 carefully and deliberately M. Thierry's paper, which 
 you were so kind as to send me with M. de Circourt's 
 letter. According to your suggestion, I enclose a 
 letter to M. Thierry on the subject, which I send 
 open in case you have any curiosity to read it, and 
 will beg you afterwards to seal and forward either 
 directly or through M. de Circourt. To the latter 
 I must beg you to express my gratitude for the high 
 and honourable manner in which he has expressed 
 himself on the subject of my book. I will imme- 
 diately make enquiries about Count Adolphe de 
 Circourt's book, but hardly know how I am likely 
 to wander upon Moorish ground, so as to be enabled 
 to notice it. You are aware that I owe to your 
 good husband my first introduction to M. Dunoyer's 
 book. I read it on his strong recommendation, and 
 I think came to about the same conclusion as to its 
 great merit and some of its defects. I must say that 
 your Frenchmen of letters many of them at least 
 seem disposed to keep up the proverbial jealousies 
 of the fraternity. I suppose M. Cousin's spiritual- 
 istic orthodoxy is delighted to find a sacrifice or 
 scapegoat for the ultra-ecclesiastical party, upon the 
 same principle that questionable ladies are always 
 
158 VILLEMARQUE'S "CHANTS BRETONS" [CHAP. 
 
 the most rigidly proper as to more questionable. 
 I have read only the tmmole 1 , not the Mole. I do 
 not think that our friend Alfred de Vigny does 
 himself justice ; the discourse is rather feeble and 
 lengthy. Lord Lansdowne has the Mote, which I 
 shall beg him to lend me, as I fear that, although 
 I think I could abstain from going to an actual 
 execution by the rope or the guillotine, I have not 
 quite suppressed some morbid curiosity as to literary 
 public executions. Talking of questionable ladies 
 (I mean no offence or malice), we have here no less 
 a person than the Countess Hahn-Hahn, who has 
 brought letters, as I hear, to Lady Lansdowne, Lady 
 Mahon, etc., and some of our best society. I met her, 
 and was specially desired by Hay ward and Milnes to 
 do the civilities of the Abbey; and Mrs. Milman and 
 I and Lady Chatterton, etc., showed all proper atten- 
 tion to her Countess-ship (who is simple, intelligent, 
 and pleasing in manner) and to her friend or cousin, 
 Count Bystram. All this nothing doubting. But 
 wishing to enlighten my ignorance about her writings, 
 I got " Faustine," when we were a little startled by 
 the dedication, " an Bystram." M. Villemarque's 
 " Chants Bretons " were noticed two or three years 
 ago in the Quarterly Review. I had the book by 
 the seaside, and amused my children by doing some 
 of the French (of the Breton I am innocent) into 
 doggrel ballads, which pleased them so much that 
 I launched my versions fearlessly in the Quarterly 
 Review. 
 
 Our own plans for the summer, I fear, are little 
 likely to bring us into that proximity which I should 
 so much wish. My eldest Christ Church youth (I 
 have now a second there) is to be reading hard for his 
 degree. We must therefore settle quietly in some 
 remote, if possible picturesque, neighbourhood. We 
 look Lakeward, where my boys may indulge their 
 passion for rowing and perform their duty in reading. 
 
VIL] AMERICAN FRIENDSHIPS 159 
 
 You will be pleased to hear thatyour friend Mr.Grote's 
 book has made a very favourable impression both 
 on scholars and general readers, Madame is in high 
 raptures. I think it a book of a very high order, 
 though of course we have some points of amicable 
 difference. Pray give my kindest regards to Mr. 
 Austin. Mrs. Milman begs her love to you. My 
 homage to M. Guizot, who, I rejoice to see, still 
 maintains his own. We are in a strange and doubtful 
 political state, but me it moves not. 
 My dear Mrs. Austin, 
 
 Ever your very sincere friend, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 On looking at M. de Circourt's letter, I find, as I 
 suspected, that this is Amedee, not Augustin, Thierry. 
 
 During the years of my father's residence in the 
 Cloisters (1835-50), as afterwards at St Paul's, his 
 society was much sought by the most eminent among 
 the numerous American authors and statesmen by 
 whom this country was from time to time visited. 
 With many of these a cordial friendship was con- 
 tracted, and was afterwards maintained by an 
 affectionate and life-long, though from the nature 
 of the case somewhat intermittent, correspondence. 
 Among the more intimate and regular of these 
 friends and correspondents, the names of Mr. 
 Everett, Mr. Ticknor, the historian of Spanish 
 literature, Mr. Prescott, Mr. Bancroft, and Mr. 
 Motley may be mentioned, whose letters, besides 
 being full of interesting news from their own side 
 of the Atlantic, often contain pleasant reminiscences 
 of morning or evening meetings at Westminster 
 
160 LETTER FROM MR. EVERETT [CHAP. 
 
 and St. Paul's. The quiet home in the Cloisters, 
 with all its beautiful surroundings and historical 
 associations, seems to have been ever a great 
 attraction, and to have been long remembered. 
 Again, too, at St. Paul's, after a breakfast at the 
 Deanery and visit to the Cathedral, a party would 
 be made up to explore the less well-known City 
 churches, and sights, which ended with the Tower. 
 A few of my father's letters have been already 
 printed in Mr. Ticknor's " Life of Prescott" and other 
 publications : place for a few more, with extracts 
 from those to which they were an answer, may be 
 found a little later on. In the meantime this letter 
 from Mr. Everett may be inserted, as it contains an 
 interesting account of the extraordinary popularity 
 with which the first volumes of Macaulay's " History 
 of England" were received in the United States : 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, U.S., May 2\st, 1849. 
 MY DEAR MR. MlLMAN, 
 
 I employ an early portion of the comparative 
 leisure which I have acquired in resigning my office 
 here in writing to you, to say how much I regret 
 that I allowed the pressure of its duties to prevent 
 my answering your kind letter of February 2nd, 
 1846, which, in common with many other letters 
 from kind and valued friends received at that 
 period, still remains, I am ashamed to say, on my 
 unanswered file. I hope you will allow me, even 
 after so long an interval, to make up for the 
 omission, which I am the rather desirous of doing 
 that I may offer to you and Mrs. Milman the 
 assurance of the sincere sympathy with which we 
 have all heard of your late heavy loss, a sorrow of 
 
VIL] POPULARITY OF MACAULAY l6l 
 
 which we well know by experience the weight and 
 bitterness.* 
 
 You have been of late particularly recalled to 
 my recollection by a copy of your most beautiful 
 Horace which my wife and daughter gave me a 
 few weeks since as a birthday present. I have not 
 had time to do more than glance at the contents, 
 and can therefore at present speak only of the 
 tasteful and fascinating exterior. I mean that it 
 should furnish me the occasion this summer of a 
 reperusal of this most exquisite of lyrists, satirists, 
 and critics. We sent a copy yesterday to a young 
 friend who sails this morning to Calcutta. So that 
 if Horace knows what is going on, he has the 
 satisfaction of perceiving a copy of his works, in 
 the delightful dress in which you have clothed them, 
 sent from the Western to the Eastern Antipodes 
 to a region of which he knew little, from a hemi- 
 sphere of which he knew nothing. 
 
 Macaulay's history continues the rage with us, 
 for no milder term expresses the intense popularity 
 which it enjoys. There are not wanting those who 
 echo the strain in which it has been criticised in the 
 Quarterly (which, however, I know as yet only by 
 report), but it is like blowing against a West India 
 hurricane. I will mention two little anecdotes, that 
 fell within my personal observation and knowledge 
 last week, to illustrate the kind of popularity which 
 the work has attained here. My daughter went to 
 her dressmaker the other day ; and while waiting 
 for her to come into the room, took up the volume 
 which lay open on the table, and found it to be 
 Macaulay. I went to a coachmaker's a day or two 
 after, on some matter of business in his line. While 
 there an old schoolmate of mine at one of the free 
 schools in Boston came in. He was bred a tinplate- 
 worker, and is now the acting agent of a gas 
 
 * The death of their youngest son, Charles Louis Hart. 
 
 II 
 
162 MACREADY IN AMERICA [CHAP. 
 
 company, to superintend the introduction of gas 
 fixtures into dwelling-houses. He told me he had 
 just taken up Macaulay, and asked me how I liked 
 it. When I mention these little incidents, as show- 
 ing the kind of popularity of Macaulay's book, I 
 do not of course mean that it is confined to this 
 class of readers, but to show you how completely it 
 has taken hold of the entire public mind. I might 
 add that at the semi-annual visitation of the collegiate 
 branch of the University here, about three weeks 
 since, one of the young men delivered a dissertation 
 of which M.'s history was the subject, and another 
 made it his principal topic. These are but specimens 
 of what has taken place throughout the continent. 
 
 I went last evening to hear Macready read from 
 " Paradise Lost" in a small private circle. He has 
 conducted himself through the whole of the frightful 
 scenes in New York like a gentleman. The public 
 voice is very strongly and generally in his favour. 
 No one indeed blames him for anything. A few, 
 disposed to ingratiate themselves with the execrable 
 faction who assaulted him, cavil at the course 
 pursued by the police and the military, which, 
 however, was upon the whole praiseworthy. He 
 returns in the vessel which brings you this letter. 
 
 I send you a late publication of my neighbour 
 Longfellow. I have not read it, but I am told it 
 is pretty. 
 
 And now, my dear Mr. Milman, should you have 
 the kindness to write me again, I will not let your 
 letter remain three years unanswered. I pray you 
 remember us all most kindly to Mrs. M., and believe 
 me, with sincere regard, 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT. 
 
 In 1836, on February 23rd, my father had been 
 elected a member of the Club. 
 
vii.] THE CLUB 163 
 
 I am rather proud [he writes] of having been 
 elected a member of the Club old Johnson's 
 famous club : I suspect in the place of old Lord 
 Stowell. Hallam and Lord Mahon proposed and 
 seconded me. It must be an unanimous election : 
 one black ball excludes. 
 
 At the dinners of the Club, of which he was 
 afterwards for some years treasurer,* my father was 
 a very regular attendant, and there were few social 
 gatherings from which he derived greater pleasure, 
 meeting as he did there on terms of easy familiarity 
 all those of the day most eminent for social qualities, 
 most distinguished in politics, literature, science, 
 and art. His own circle of friends was ever widen- 
 ing, and a list of them would embrace many of 
 whom the mere names would awaken a crowd of 
 interesting memories. The old walnut staircase, the 
 most beautiful and characteristic feature in Ash- 
 burnham House, has already been mentioned. 
 Lighted from above by a circular dome, round 
 which ran an open gallery, with its ornamented 
 balustrade, and low, broad, polished steps, it was 
 always much admired, and we used often as boys to 
 watch my father's guests as they cautiously mounted 
 the slippery flight to the reception-rooms which were 
 on the first floor. Not unfrequent among these, 
 in the years from 1835 to 1850, might be seen 
 Lord and Lady Lansdowne, ever kind and constant 
 
 * He was elected treasurer June, 1841, and continued to fill the 
 office until his resignation in June, 1864. He presided at the 
 centenary dinner of the Club, June 7th, 1864. 
 
1 64 SOCIETY IN THE CLOISTERS [CHAP. 
 
 friends of my father and mother ; Lord Carlisle, then 
 Lord Morpeth ; old Mr. Rogers, with his quiet, pale 
 face * ; Hallam, Macaulay, Dr. Holland, Sydney 
 Smith, the Lyells, the Murchisons, the Eastlakes, 
 and others. And when Sydney Smith was of the 
 party, I well remember how we used to listen for 
 the unextinguishable shouts of laughter which were 
 heard proceeding from the dining-room, whenever 
 the exigencies of service required an open door. 
 The forms of these and of many more appear 
 like shadows out of the dim past, as they pass up 
 the old staircase and vanish through the pillared 
 archway. 
 
 Looking back, the years at Westminster may 
 seem to have been to my father, on the whole, happy 
 years years full, even too full, of intellectual life 
 and of labour, by which a severe strain was put 
 upon his health and strength. And " happy years " 
 is an expression that perhaps should not be used 
 without qualification, marked as they were by a 
 succession of domestic losses, which touched his 
 sensitive and affectionate heart to the quick, and 
 were the cause of life-long sorrow. He had 
 brought with him from Reading a family of five 
 children, three sons and two danghters : another 
 child, a boy much younger than the rest, had been 
 born in the Cloisters in 1845. Of these, three, the 
 
 * "They have got a Panorama of Jerusalem. Lockhart met 
 Sydney Smith there. ' Quite perfect,' said Sydney ; ' it only wants 
 one thing Rogers to be seen bathing in the Dead Sea.' I should 
 have said the Dead Sea is seen in the distance." Extract from 
 letter. 
 
vii.] DOMESTIC SORROWS 165 
 
 two daughters, not released without long suffering, 
 and the little boy, lie buried in the north aisle of 
 the nave of the Abbey. Describing in " Samor " 
 an assembly on the site of modern Westminster, 
 my father had written : 
 
 Still that deep dwelling underneath the earth 
 
 Its high and ancient privilege maintains, 
 
 Dark palace of our island's parted kings, 
 
 Earth-ceil'd pavilion of our brave and wise. 
 
 Disus'd for two long ages, it became 
 
 The pavement of our sumptuous minster fair, 
 
 That ever and anon yet gathers in 
 
 King, conqueror, poet, orator, or sage 
 
 To her stone chambers, there to sleep the sleep 
 
 That wakens only at the archangel's trump. 
 
 And he adds in a note to a later edition : 
 
 Little did I foresee, when I wrote this as a youth, 
 that, long years after, at a time that I should be 
 correcting it for republication, I should lay to rest 
 in this hallowed place (Westminster Abbey) a lovely 
 little girl, whose early intelligence gave me the fond 
 hope that she would hereafter take an interest in 
 my pursuits, and love my poetry, at least because 
 it was her father's : 
 
 My child ! my child ! among the great and wise 
 Thou'st had thy peaceful solemn obsequies. 
 Seem'st thou misplac'd in that fam'd company ? 
 Heaven's kingdom is made up of such as thee. 
 
 February 2nd, 1839. 
 
 This was the little girl of whom Miss Mitford 
 observed " that her hand was always in her 
 father's." Twice the grave was reopened ; twice 
 with accumulating force the grief was renewed. 
 
1 66 HIS CHILDREN'S GRAVE [CHAP. 
 
 His eldest daughter died in 1841, the little boy 
 in 1849.* 
 
 In the affection of those who remained to him, 
 and in untiring work alone, he, humanly speaking, 
 found surcease of sorrow. But the strain upon his 
 strength and courage was too great. His friends 
 used sometimes to tell him that he lived three 
 
 * The grave was for many years covered by a simple uninscribed 
 stone, distinguished only by a little cross of white marble ; but after 
 my father's death Dean Stanley thought that the names of its 
 tenants should be recorded, if but to mark my father's former 
 connection with the Abbey, and caused this inscription to be 
 engraved : 
 
 LOUIS HART, DIED 19 FEBRUARY, 
 
 g THIS STONE g 
 
 WAS PLACED OVER THE GRAVE *** 
 
 ^ OF THREE BELOVED CHILDREN ^ 
 
 g OF HENRY HART MILMAN, | 
 
 SOMETIME CANON $ 
 
 
 & OF THIS COLLEGIATE CHURCH, 
 
 w - THEN DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 AND OF MARY ANNE HIS WIFE, " o 
 
 WHO AFTER A BLESSED UNION 
 
 
 OF FORTY-FOUR YEARS 
 
 REST TOGETHER 
 
 W G 
 
 IN THE CRYPT OF HIS CATHEDRAL. 
 
 When we mourn the lost, the dear, 
 3 Gracious Son of Mary, hear. 
 
 July I, 1871. 
 
vii.] OVERWORKED 167 
 
 lives, any one of which was more than sufficient 
 for average endurance : the life of a hard-worked 
 clergyman, the life of a man of letters, the life 
 of one who was almost enforcedly overwhelmed 
 by social engagements. So tried, there could be 
 no doubt that my father had reached a period of 
 life in which some complete change, some diminution 
 of work, was on all accounts desirable ; but in what 
 manner such change would be brought about, if 
 brought about at all, it was impossible to foresee. 
 Preferment after preferment indeed, as it fell vacant, 
 was assigned to him by popular rumour ; but if 
 man in the form of popular rumour proposes, the 
 Minister disposes, and for a long time nothing 
 came of those reports. There is, I believe, no 
 doubt that Lord Melbourne, in comparatively early 
 days, had wished to recommend him for a bishopric, 
 but in his easy-going way had been deterred from 
 doing so, when it was represented to him by the 
 Bishop of London (Blomfield) that such an appoint- 
 ment would cause trouble and give umbrage to 
 the Church. How far this prognostic would have 
 been justified, or how far it would have fulfilled 
 itself, it is needless now to speculate ; but there 
 was certainly scarcely a murmur of displeasure 
 when at last, in 1849, my father was nominated 
 by Lord John Russell to the Deanery of St. Paul's, 
 which had become vacant by the death of Dr. 
 Copleston, who had held the Deanery for- many 
 years in conjunction with the Bishopric of LlandafT. 
 There was, I think, a general feeling that the 
 
1 68 DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S [CHAP. 
 
 right man had been put in the right place. To 
 my father himself I believe that, reluctant though 
 he might be to leave his home in the Cloisters, 
 and the Abbey to which he was bound by so 
 many dear memories, preferment could scarcely 
 have come in a more acceptable form, securing 
 to him as it did a well-earned, honourable repose, 
 and enabling him thenceforward to devote himself 
 more uninterruptedly to the completion of the 
 great work upon which he was engaged, the 
 " History of Latin Christianity." On receiving 
 the offer, a sigh of relief escaped from his lips as 
 he looked up in my mother's face and said, " Thank 
 goodness ! No more vestries ! " a slight expression, 
 but to those who knew him a sign of how much 
 the harassing and, in spite of the support which 
 he almost invariably obtained from his parishioners, 
 the somewhat ungrateful business transacted at 
 their meetings had, with other innumerable duties, 
 weighed upon him, though he never betrayed his 
 weariness. Congratulations, after the appointment 
 was announced, came pouring in from all quarters 
 from persons representing all classes and all parties. 
 In those from his colleagues and friends in the 
 Chapter of Westminster and at St. Margaret's were 
 mingled expressions of sincere regret at his loss. 
 For instance, Mr. Page Wood, afterwards Lord 
 Chancellor Hatherley, a valued friend, a constant 
 member of his congregation at St. Margaret's, a 
 devoted furtherer of all good works in the parish, 
 thus wrote : 
 
vii.] CONGRATULATIONS 169 
 
 12, GREAT GEORGE STREET, 
 October 2$th, 1849. 
 
 A day or two after we had the pleasure of meeting 
 you at Oxford, we heard from good authority that 
 you were to be the Dean of St. Paul's. It is now 
 publicly announced ; and though I may not yet 
 address you as " Mr. Dean/' I will not let a post 
 pass without expressing the unfeigned satisfaction 
 with which Mrs. Wood and myself heard the 
 intelligence. 
 
 We have received your kind sympathy in sorrow, 
 and have, I hope, sincerely mourned with you in 
 your trials. It is a more cheerful duty to " rejoice 
 with those who do rejoice," and I trust that for 
 many years Mrs. Milman and yourself may enjoy 
 the comparative leisure which will now be permitted 
 to you. 
 
 We have indeed on our part to regret your 
 
 removal to a more distant part of London, but I 
 
 trust that we may still be permitted to retain a 
 
 friendship which we shall ever value, and believe me 
 
 Yours most sincerely, 
 
 W. P. WOOD. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney Smith, the widow of his old friend 
 the witty Canon, spoke of the 
 
 unfeigned delight with which it [the appointment] 
 would have been received by my beloved husband, 
 of whose real regard both for you and Mrs. Milman 
 I am sure you must both of you be well aware. 
 Himself for many years past wholly unambitious 
 (though very sensible of the results of that situation 
 he did hold in the increased enjoyments it afforded 
 to his old age), was exactly in a position to rejoice 
 at what might befall his friends, without the remotest 
 wish to become their rival. The Garden of Eden 
 without its serpent for his summer's enjoyment, and 
 
I 70 MRS. SYDNEY SMITH AND DR. HAWTREY [CHAR 
 
 the abundant means afforded him for intellectual 
 society in winter, left him (what I believe very 
 few human beings are) without a wish ungratified, 
 and nothing that this world had to offer would have 
 tempted him to have foregone so much positive 
 good, entailing only just so much of business as 
 made it agreeable. 
 
 But one more quotation, a tribute from one who 
 knew my father well, his old friend Dr. Hawtrey, 
 may be introduced : 
 
 ETON COLLEGE, 
 
 October 2\st, 1849. 
 MY DEAR MlLMAN, 
 
 I heard yesterday with great delight of the 
 choice which Government has made for the Deanery 
 of St. Paul's. To my mind the highest claim to the 
 dignities of a Christian Church is the possession of 
 Christian charity. It adorns every other merit ; it 
 covers every error to which human judgment is liable. 
 I do not speak of charity in its vulgar sense, but in 
 that which was given to it by one of the holiest and 
 wisest of reasoners ; and I can truly say that in the 
 course of an intimacy drawing nearly on fifty years I 
 never knew a man possessed of more of that virtue 
 than yourself. Would that it were not so rare a 
 virtue ! Believe me that I have sympathized no less 
 in your sorrow than I have in pleasure at an appoint- 
 ment which I hope and believe is just what you 
 would have most desired. With kind regards from 
 my sister to Mrs. Milman, to which I beg to join 
 my own, 
 
 I am, my dear Milman, 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 E. HAWTREY. 
 
 Macaulay's gratification expressed itself more 
 concisely. 
 
vii.] THE DEANERY 171 
 
 I have been delighted [he writes] to hear of 
 Milman's appointment to St. Paul's honestly de- 
 lighted, as much as if a good legacy had been 
 left me. 
 
 And Sir Roderick Murchison, " as a geologist, 
 congratulated him on having obtained a good sub- 
 stantial residence and garden on the healthiest hill 
 in London." But perhaps the less said about the 
 garden the better. The Deanery was, in fact, a 
 roomy, comfortable house, standing well back in 
 a quiet court behind heavy portes-cocheres, and 
 approached from the churchyard through a narrow 
 archway, which in my father's time was closed to 
 carriage traffic by a massive post, which was only 
 lowered into a box prepared for it in order to admit 
 carriages to the Deanery. The noise of the City 
 traffic, deadened by intervening houses, was heard 
 only as a continuous murmur, making the quiet of 
 the old house the more impressive. At that time, 
 too, between the Deanery and river, the sleepy 
 courts of Doctors' Commons, so well described in 
 " David Copperfield," but most of which have since 
 disappeared, were still standing, and gave an old- 
 world aspect to the surroundings, which the march 
 of modern improvements has since effaced. In his 
 "Annals of St. Paul's" my father thus refers to the 
 house : 
 
 Radulf de Diceto (temp. Richard I.) built the 
 Deanery of St. Paul's, inhabited after him by many 
 men of letters : before the Reformation by the ad- 
 mirable Colet, who may compensate for many names ; 
 
172 LEAVES WESTMINSTER [CHAP. 
 
 after the Reformation by Alexander Nowell, Donne, 
 Bancroft (who rebuilt the mansion after the fire), 
 Stillingfleet, Tillotson, W. Sherlock, Butler, Seeker, 
 Newton, Van Mildert, Copleston. As a lover of 
 letters, I might perhaps, without presumption, add 
 another name. 
 
 The removal to St. Paul's was completed in the 
 early weeks of 1850, when my father took up his 
 residence in the house which was to be his home for 
 the remaining years of his life. Before, however, 
 proceeding to a very slight sketch of the incidents 
 of these years, it may be convenient at this point to 
 give a few more examples of his correspondence, 
 selecting such letters as can be introduced without 
 comment or further explanation. 
 
viii.] CORRESPONDENCE 173 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Letters to Mr. George Ticknor and Mr. Prescott Death of Mr. 
 Prescott Further Correspondence with Mrs. Austin Letters 
 to Archbishop Sumner on Froude's Candidature for Chicheley 
 Professorship of Modern History Lord Derby's Homer The 
 Keble Memorial Letter to Archbishop Longley. 
 
 To GEORGE TICKNOR, ESQ. 
 
 CLOISTERS, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 
 January 29^, 1842. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 I have to thank you for a very agreeable 
 letter, and for the valuable present of Professor 
 Norton's book. I was not altogether unacquainted 
 with the merits of Mr. Norton's work,* as, since the 
 publication of my own book, a gentleman of this 
 country, thinking that it would interest me, had sent 
 it to me to read. My perusal of it would lead me 
 to value the possession of it very highly. It is, I 
 do not hesitate to give my opinion, the most com- 
 plete and conscientious investigation of that most 
 important subject in our language. I wish it were 
 possible to make it better known in this country ; 
 but in the present state of darkening prejudice here, 
 and the total absorption of the religious mind in 
 all quarters with other controversies, these most 
 important and primary questions of our common 
 Christianity excite no interest. 
 
 While on this subject, I must express my satis- 
 faction at the favourable opinion entertained of my 
 late work by the distinguished writers whom you 
 
 * "The Evidences of the Genuineness of the Gospels," 3 vols., 
 8vo, London, 1837. 
 
174 MR. AND MRS. LYELL [CHAP. 
 
 name, especially by Dr. Channing. The praise of 
 such men is a high reward for literary labour, if 
 indeed any reward were wanting for that which 
 is its own, to any one who feels the interest which 
 I do in the work itself. I am glad to find any 
 quarter so undisturbed by polemic passion as to 
 be pleased with a book of which it is the chief 
 study to be dispassionate. Here I am content to 
 wait my time till the hurricane which now blows 
 so wildly is lulled to sleep. 
 
 From all these questions I turn with pleasure to 
 our friends the Lyells. If America likes them, I 
 will only say that the attachment is reciprocal. 
 They express themselves in the highest terms as 
 to their reception Mr. Lyell in public, and both 
 in private ; and among their enjoyments not the 
 least has been your kind hospitality. They are 
 both as amiable and estimable as they are intelligent 
 and cultivated. Lyell himself is surprised and 
 delighted with the numbers and demeanour of his 
 audience. Your account of the state of education 
 in Boston fully accounts for his success. I acknow- 
 ledge that it surprised me. I did not suppose that 
 the means of good education were provided in so 
 large a proportion to the population in any country 
 in the world certainly this is not the case in Europe, 
 with all the efforts made by governments and by 
 individual exertion. I presume that Boston in this 
 respect is superior not merely to the average but to 
 any other city in the United States. 
 
 To W. H. PRESCOTT, ESQ.* 
 
 CLOISTERS, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 
 
 April \ith, 1844. 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 I reproach myself for having delayed so long 
 to acknowledge the note in which you expressed 
 
 * This letter has been already printed in Ticknor's "Life of 
 Prescott." 
 
viii.] PRESCOTT'S "CONQUEST OF MEXICO" 175 
 
 your gratification at the notice of your Mexican 
 work in the Quarterly Review. I assure you that 
 nothing could give me greater pleasure than 
 finding an opportunity of thus publicly, though 
 anonymously, declaring my high opinion of your 
 writings. Our many common friends have taught 
 me to feel as much respect for your private 
 character as your writings have commanded as 
 an author. I was much amused, after I had com- 
 menced the article, with a letter from our friend 
 Lord Morpeth, expressing an anxious hope that 
 justice would be done to the work in the Quarterly 
 Review. Without betraying my secret, I was able 
 to set his mind at rest. 
 
 Can we not persuade you to extend your personal 
 acquaintance with our men of letters and others 
 whose society you would appreciate by a visit to 
 England ? Perhaps you might not find much to 
 assist you in your researches (if report speaks 
 true that you are engaged on the " Conquest of 
 of Peru") which you cannot command in America, 
 yet even in that respect our libraries might be of 
 service. But of this I am sure, that no one would 
 be received with greater cordiality or more universal 
 esteem. 
 
 If this be impossible or impracticable, allow me 
 to assure you that I shall be delighted if this 
 opening of our correspondence should lead to further 
 acquaintance even by letter. I shall always feel the 
 greatest interest in the labours of one who does so 
 much honour to our common literature. In letters 
 we must be brethren, and God grant that we may 
 be in political relations and in reciprocal feelings of 
 respect and regard. 
 
 Believe me, my dear sir, 
 Ever faithfully yours, 
 
 H. H. MlLMAN. 
 
i;6 LETTER TO PRESCOTT [CHAP, 
 
 To W. H. PRESCOTT, ESQ. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 November itfk, 1850. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 Your welcome letter did not bring the first 
 tidings of your safe arrival in your native land. A 
 dispatch of Dr. Holland's which I saw in Kent 
 boasted of the pleasant dinner which you had given 
 him at Boston. It gave us unmingled pleasure, as 
 adding, I trust, further encouragement to another 
 visit to England. Then we should, I hope, be in 
 a better condition to fulfil all the duties of hospitality. 
 1 often think that if I were some twenty years 
 younger I should work up my courage to cross the 
 Atlantic. The only regret I feel at having formed 
 such delightful friendships as I have among your 
 countrymen, and most especially with yourself, is 
 that the wide Atlantic is rolling and will still roll 
 between us. Regret is the wrong word, for friend- 
 ship which grows weak and languishes for want of 
 renewed opportunities of intercourse is hardly worthy 
 of the name ; and if Mahomet cannot go to the 
 mountain, he has still hopes that the mountain is not 
 as immovable as himself. At all events, the recollec- 
 tion of your visit to London will be to us among 
 those cherished remembrances on which we shall 
 dwell while memory holds her seat. I am very glad 
 that you had an opportunity of seeing English 
 country life, and to such advantage. It is one of the 
 great characteristics of our land, and I think especially 
 favourable to the revelation of what our aristocracy, 
 of which so much is said in disparagement and even 
 scorn, really is in that most important and English 
 sphere, the home. You probably saw it not only 
 in its high-dress reception state, but in its familiar 
 every-day life. In the country we see what men 
 are. To secure this in London peculiar intimacy 
 is required, such as can hardly fall to the lot of a 
 
viii.] A SUMMER HOLIDAY 177 
 
 stranger. There they are as they would appear to 
 be. Your inability to visit Bowood was a source 
 of great regret there and to us. We are just come 
 from that house, which in some respects, by its 
 inmates as well as by its unrivalled social ease, by 
 the beauty of the works of art, the elegance and 
 grace of the whole, with the perfect liveability 
 (there is a new word in return for some of yours), 
 is a model of country residences. 
 
 Our tour turned out charmingly. We went down 
 the Rhone, saw the noble Roman antiquities in the 
 South of France, and crossed Provence. From the 
 Cornice road we looked down on the deep-blue 
 Mediterranean, along a succession of Stanfield 
 pictures of the most exquisite beauty at every rise 
 and fall of the coast ; so on to palatial Genoa and 
 Milan. Then we whiled away a delicious month 
 among the Italian lakes, crossed the Spliigen, and 
 returned by Strasbourg and Paris home. There 
 was nothing, except a few days of excessive heat, 
 but pure enjoyment nothing on our return to break 
 our dream of delight. Alas ! how different with 
 our excellent, our dearest friend Hallam ! A second 
 time he sets out for a tour of pleasure with a son, 
 his last son if not of the brilliant and peculiar 
 promise of the elder, yet the best, gentlest, kindest, 
 most considerate of youths, with very remarkable 
 yet more quiet talents, and with acquirements such 
 as a son of Hallam's ought to possess. At Siena 
 he is suddenly seized, in a few days all is over, and 
 the father is returning with the Remains to rest with 
 his wife and, I believe, six other children. We 
 have felt this, as you may suppose, more deeply than 
 we could feel anything, excepting where the blow 
 has been, as it has been, on ourselves. One daughter 
 alone remains. I tremble for my friend ; but his is 
 a mind of which few know the strength and depth. 
 
 But I must turn to other subjects, as you will 
 
 12 
 
178 "NO POPERY" [CHAP. 
 
 expect to hear something of the topic which is now 
 " raging among us." You would almost suppose that 
 Lord George Gordon was alive again. Our walls 
 are rubric with " No Popery," as in days of old. As 
 I went out this morning, I found a label on my own 
 door, illustrated by a school scrawl of the Cardinal. 
 It is a grievous thing that the long years during 
 which so many wise and good persons have been 
 endeavouring to allay religious animosities, to 
 soften religious asperities, and to enable us to live, 
 if not in mutual respect, yet without violent collision, 
 should be blown into the air by the insatiable 
 vanity and ambition of one man, Wiseman, to 
 whom I ascribe much, if he is not led and inspirited 
 by Newman and the folly of the old Pope. All 
 sensible English Roman Catholics strongly deplore 
 the measure, and even I find myself suddenly com- 
 pelled to protest against a wanton and silly insult. 
 The stir in the City is almost amusing. Lord John 
 is nearly as much an idol as Lord George of old. 
 They talked of taking the horses off his carriage, 
 and drawing him to the dinner at Guildhall. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 January loth, 1853. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. AUSTIN, 
 
 Dare I begin with wishing you many happy 
 returns of the season ? If I dare, I do so from my 
 heart both to you and your husband. Among the 
 impulses which induce me now to write to you (I 
 say nothing, or rather would say much, on the cause 
 of my long silence) is my earnest desire to hear 
 something of you on the only unerring authority 
 yourself. I catch dim and uncertain and variable 
 accounts of you occasionally from Gordon and 
 Reeve, but long for something more satisfactory, I 
 earnestly hope more cheering. On our return from 
 Scotland, our summer tour, I had hoped immediately 
 to retrieve my remissness in the spring. I found 
 
VIIL] DEATH OF MISS BERRY 179 
 
 that you were setting off for the Isle of Wight. 
 Since that time came on me all the affairs of the 
 Funeral [of the Duke of Wellington], and very 
 weighty, distracting, absorbing cares they were. 
 I told Lord Clarendon that I would back my 
 last three days against any three of the busiest 
 and most perplexing of his Irish Lord Lieutenancy. 
 The difficulty was enormous responsibility without 
 despotic power. I had to settle and balance affairs 
 with the Woods and Forests, the Lord Chamberlain, 
 Garter King-at-Arms, the Lord Mayor, and City 
 Police. However, finis coronal opus the success 
 more than repaid me. Even I had no notion 
 that our Church Service could be made so solemn, 
 so imposing, so surpassing (Bunsen declares) all 
 ceremonials he ever beheld. Since that time I 
 have been endeavouring to make up my leeway 
 after near four months' holiday out of London and 
 this month and a half of busy work. 
 
 And now, having pleaded my cause, and I hope 
 made out a good case for mercy, let me beg to hear 
 from you on any or all subjects (a modest request) 
 which may at present occupy and interest you. What 
 is the state of the Sydney Papers ? Have you still 
 strength and determination to go on ? Or has the 
 loss of our dear friend the widow made any 
 difference ? This is not the only common loss we 
 have sustained. In the midst of my turmoils, or 
 rather before the turmoil was closed, I had the 
 melancholy duty (as I had done for poor Agnes) 
 of officiating at the last rites of our dear Miss Berry. 
 I did not, I grieve to say, see her. I made frequent 
 efforts, but failed from various causes. I only heard, 
 just at the close, that it was approaching, and hurried 
 to the house, but she had sunk into that quiet, 
 almost unconscious repose in which her peaceful 
 spirit glided away almost imperceptibly. It was 
 striking to see so many of her friends gathered 
 
l8o SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH [CHAP. 
 
 round her grave. Her loss socially is so irreparable 
 that I am constantly accusing myself of selfishness 
 in my sorrow for her departure, but I really feel 
 that (somewhat more removed as we are from the 
 central life, the social life of London) the blank left 
 by her house cuts me off from many other valued 
 friends whom I was sure to encounter there. How- 
 ever, we must not mourn at the singularly painless 
 close of a life so blameless, and at the same time, 
 if we may judge, so happy. 
 
 I ought to give you some intelligence of living 
 friends. I cannot but rejoice at Lord Lansdowne's 
 determination to give his support without office 
 to the Government. Nothing but his influence, 
 the confidence in his known judgment, sagacity, 
 and perfect amenity of manner, could have brought 
 together and harmonized the conflicting elements. 
 I have good hopes that, if some apple of discord 
 be not unexpectedly hurled among them, he may 
 still hold them together. What think you of our 
 friend William * in the Cabinet ? I have been 
 vainly endeavouring to beguile a worthy arch- 
 deacon to vote, as of old, for Gladstone at Oxford. 
 "What! he who sits in the same Cabinet with 
 the editor of Hobbes?" I did not proceed to 
 cross-examine the worthy divine as to the opinions 
 of the same wicked Hobbes. In South wark I 
 understand there is some doubt whether the said 
 Hobbes is a Popish bishop or a friend and con- 
 temporary of Tom Paine. We were in October at 
 Bowood. It is really charming and in some degree 
 consoling to see how that young and beautiful Lady 
 Shelburne endeavours to fill the place, which no 
 one can quite fill, of her whom we have lost. She 
 seems to think, and she must be self-inspired with 
 the thought, that she has inherited the duties and 
 friends of the departed. 
 
 * Sir William Molesworth. 
 
VIIL] AT WORK AGAIN 181 
 
 I think you will expect me to say something 
 of ourselves. I am, thank God, remarkably well : 
 the highlands of St. Paul's seem to agree with 
 me extremely well. . . . We enjoyed our High- 
 land excursion very much. We took a wider circle 
 than I have ever taken before in Scotland Arran, 
 Skye (our friends the Fergusons had a house on 
 a sea loch, whence we made the latter island), 
 Deeside, the Sterlings' at Keir, Edinburgh, the 
 Richardsons' on the Border. I am now subsid- 
 ing into my usual quiet work, which I am sorry 
 to say seems endless. I have attempted far too 
 wide a range, and no sooner have I made up my 
 mind on one point than another crosses me and 
 leads me on a wild chase, not through bush and 
 brier, but through folio and quarto; not through 
 flood and mire, but through Greek and German. 
 However, the work itself, if it never comes to any- 
 thing, is full of unfailing interest. If no one else is 
 wiser or better for it, I hope that I shall be ; at least 
 it keeps me occupied I will not say out of mischief, 
 though in these days of polemic mischief, who might 
 not find himself in some unprofitable fray ? 
 
 My dear Mrs. Austin, I must beg you to express to 
 your husband how much I regret that I have latterly 
 had so few, and fear that I can hardly reckon for the 
 future on many, opportunities of enjoying his friendly 
 and enlightening conversation. From Mrs. Milman, 
 as well as from me, let me beg you to accept our 
 most earnest good wishes for better health if not 
 better health, Christian patience to endure and 
 Christian hope to comfort. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 VENTNOR, January \2th, 1853. 
 
 MY DEAR DEAN, 
 
 First let me say that, in whatsoever condition 
 of body or mind I may be, such a letter from you 
 
1 82 HIGH AND LOW CHURCH [CHAP. 
 
 as that I received yesterday must always be most 
 precious, if well, a great pleasure ; if sick, a great 
 consolation. And I don't know whether first to 
 thank the good Christian or the ever-agreeable 
 companion to whom I owe it. Since you begin 
 by asking me to tell you how I am, I will dispose 
 of that subject at once. . . . 
 
 You may suppose that this daily and hourly 
 familiarity with death keeps ever before me the 
 great subject the Hereafter to which it is the 
 gate. It would be an infinite comfort to me to 
 talk with you on this matter ; for though I feel an 
 indescribable serenity and cheerfulness about it, I 
 can give no satisfactory reason for my state of mind. 
 The sort of distinct view and full confidence which 
 I have perceived in others is not granted to me. 
 I can form no coherent notion of the re-existence 
 or the continued existence which we are promised ; 
 and when I examine myself, I find all vague and 
 uncertain. What can I do ? I bring my doubts 
 and lay them at the foot of the altar, and, where 
 I cannot see, I trust. The most absolute resignation 
 and surrender of will, hope, and desire are not 
 difficult to me. But is this enough ? I know not, 
 and sometimes I think I have no right to feel the 
 repose I do. But, to say truth, my conception of 
 God's mercy, and my view of the character, teaching, 
 and example of Christ, are stronger than the terrors 
 which may certainly be extracted from Scripture. 
 Still, I wish my faith had a more definite form. 
 So few of your brethren, best of Deans, can help 
 a poor aspirant on this road. It is not my fault 
 if, after listening to reason all my life, I can get 
 no good of unreason. And what nonsense they 
 talk ! Forgive me. We are here in a true battle- 
 field of High and Low Church, and they shout 
 damnation into either ear of the dying. Remember 
 to ask me for a scene it is too long to write. 
 
VIIL] THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS 183 
 
 The Low gentleman called to offer to read and 
 pray with me. He had just been denouncing my 
 hospitable, charitable, worthy friend James White, 
 a brother clergyman, from the pulpit as an Atheist, 
 warning the people not to send their children to 
 his school, etc. This is the mad string of England. 
 Every nation has one. The Oxford exhibition is 
 much to be deplored. The Universities have no 
 public respect to throw away ; and the manner of 
 Lord Derby's election, and now this affair, are calcu- 
 lated to damage Oxford seriously. I have not yet 
 heard whether our excellent Hawtrey is, or is to 
 be, Provost. How I wish it, you know. 
 
 January list. 
 
 The above was written immediately after the 
 receipt of your letter. You know how long ago. 
 Since then my heart and mind and time have been 
 so completely preoccupied, that day after day found 
 me either too busy, too tired, too anxious, or too 
 depressed to venture on a conversation with you. 
 As to the business, it was chiefly for the poor, 
 dear Duchess of Orleans, whose friends wrote to 
 me to try to move the English press to notice 
 the sale of her pictures. I suppose the affairs of 
 princes are always worse managed than anybody's, 
 so that I had endless trouble needlessly, as far as 
 money goes, for, as you see, the prices given in 
 France were enormous, " such as to make me 
 shiver," writes Lord Ellesmere. But, poor thing ! 
 she is pleased and touched at some expressions of 
 respectful interest in her, and that is enough for 
 me. English people in general know little and care 
 less about her, and are inclined to believe all the 
 misrepresentations they read or hear, which is not 
 to their credit. But as one who knows her well 
 said to me, " La grandeur d'ame est la qualite" 
 dont on se soucie le moins." Nothing was ever 
 
1 84 LIFE OF T. MOORE [CHAP. 
 
 more true ; and, indeed, how should it be otherwise ? 
 How few have, within, the standard by which to 
 measure it ! ... 
 
 Think of that incomparable Lord Lansdowne 
 finding time and recollection to send me one of the 
 first published copies of Moore the very day of 
 Lord Derby's resignation ! I cannot tell you how 
 I felt and feel such an attention. It is a very 
 interesting book on the whole. The introduction 
 is very prettily done. But what does Lady John 
 say to the apology for Mr. Little ? Well, since 
 Mr. Ingersoll tells us that Washington enjoyed 
 questionable songs after dinner, and Lord John 
 excuses the youthful muse of Moore, where are 
 we, excellent Dean, to look for a clean corner in 
 the world ? I think the book would have gained 
 much by omissions ; and indeed that is still more 
 true of Lord Jeffrey's Life, and of every one that 
 the zeal of friends and publishers puts forth. To 
 me, if I could hope ever to have strength, spirits, 
 and capacity to finish what I suffered myself to 
 be persuaded to undertake, these lives would be 
 a warning rather than a model in this respect. 
 Yet, if any man could bear being viewed micro- 
 scopically, it is surely Moore so good, so true, 
 so tender, so high-spirited, so honest. It is one 
 of the most engaging characters ever portrayed, 
 and profoundly respectable withal. 
 
 A third sheet ! But six would not exhaust or 
 contain the accumulated gossip of months and 
 years. Yes, I understand your loss in Miss Berry, 
 and I do not suppose you are likely to find any 
 woman capable of taking her place. "Si je 
 voulais la caract^riser dans un mot," said Comte 
 de Circourt to me of another lady, " ce mot 
 serait centre." It has been my fate to know 
 intimately one such in each nation, Madame 
 R^camier ; Miss Berry ; and the third (unknown 
 
viii.] SOCIAL CENTRES 185 
 
 to you and fame), Madame de Bardeleben, of 
 Dresden, the most admirable of the three, as having 
 none of the extrinsic advantages the other two 
 possessed. " Yes," says her and my distinguished 
 friend Madame de Liittichau, " it appears to me as 
 if a whole circle of friends had died with her." 
 How true ! The circle seems to resolve itself into 
 its elements and disappear when its centre is gone, 
 and something of this you must find. I should like 
 to write a comparative view of these three centres. 
 In France the qualities that fit a woman for this 
 office are not rare. In Germany and England they 
 seem to me equally rare. I have a long and in- 
 comparable letter from M. Guizot.* He lives 
 with the grande et forte compagnie of our great 
 Rebellion. I resist having it called a Revolution, 
 which it was not thank God devoutly for the same ! 
 The old name, " The Great Rebellion," is the word. 
 I hear as often and as much from Paris as the police 
 will allow, and expect MM. de Circourt and St. 
 Hilaire here. The Court news is not always very 
 fit to be told, still less written, as you may infer 
 from the expression of a learned friend, who calls 
 it un L^lpanar armd, which you may quote, but 
 not from me. 
 
 V. Cousin has just sent me over his Madame de 
 
 * Some years later, 1859, in the course of an autumn tour, my 
 father paid a visit to M. Guizot at Val Richer. Writing me an 
 account of this visit, he says : " Nothing can have answered better 
 than our tour up to this time. Guizot was most kind and hospitable, 
 the house and place charming. We had much conversation on all 
 sorts of subjects much that I ought to recollect, and that I trust I 
 shall recollect. It is impossible to conceive a more happy family or 
 a more dignified position for a man who has held such high places, 
 subsiding contentedly and cheerfully into a diligent and ever-occupied 
 man of letters. The son was all that could be desired courteous, 
 obliging, full of his own literary plans : one of the sons-in-law 
 (M. de Witt) a very superior person, who has written, and written 
 extremely well, on the two American Presidents, Washington and 
 Jefferson. 
 
1 86 BUNSEN'S ".HIPPOLYTUS" [CHAP, 
 
 Longueville " one of five copies printed on large 
 papier vdlin." But even this signal honour will 
 not conquer my objections to Madame de L., or 
 to my dear old friend's researches among the 
 charmantes pdcheresses of that time. As he is 
 going on with Plato, I had rather he had left 
 these fair penitents alone. The account of the 
 Carmelites is, however, extremely interesting. 
 Husband is reading Hippolytus, and is good 
 enough to read to me what he thinks most in- 
 teresting. I revere Bunsen's courage on some 
 points, but there are passages marked with truly 
 German bad taste and confusion. Who reviews 
 it in the Edinburgh Review ? Is it our best of 
 Deans ? My husband, sitting still as a mouse, 
 
 now ejaculates to himself, " D d stuff! " which 
 
 comes in rather abruptly as a commentary. It 
 is, I fear, rather too strong and too laconic for 
 you. We are quite alone here, with the ex- 
 ception of my dear old friend Mrs. Bellenden 
 Kerr, who is come to be near me, and Mr. and 
 Mrs. White, who received me with the greatest 
 hospitality. Perhaps you know him, at least by 
 fame, as a clergyman convicted of writing a play 
 or plays. They are well off, and he does not 
 officiate lectures instead to the mechanics. He 
 is anathematized from the pulpit by a furious bigot 
 here, but is, I assure you, an excellent man. 
 Tennyson, Thackeray, and others whom you know 
 are his friends. 
 
 Now, dear Dean, I must go out, for the only 
 part of the day during which I live is spent in 
 my pony-chaise. You may rejoice in this necessity 
 which puts an end to my interminable bavardage. 
 Remember me most affectionately to my dear 
 Mrs. Milman, whose sweet face I would fain 
 see once more. All good wishes attend her and 
 your sons. When you write again, tell me a little 
 
viii.] "PHILIP THE SECOND" 187 
 
 more about them. What are they all doing ? Your 
 sons are objects of public interest, or rather interest 
 to the public. Believe me always, dear Dean, with 
 the sincerest respect and affection, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 SARAH AUSTIN. 
 
 My husband begs me to say how much he feels 
 your kind regrets, and how warmly he reciprocates 
 them. Alas ! this is one of my greatest sorrows. 
 I who used to fight against his tendency to seclude 
 himself am now an additional bar between him and 
 society. 
 
 To W. H. PRESCOTT, ESQ. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 December 292^, 1855. 
 
 MY DEAR AND EXCELLENT FRIEND, 
 
 How can I wind up the year better than 
 by paying my debts of gratitude and friendship ? 
 " Philip the Second " has duly arrived ; but you have 
 rather embarrassed me by a most kind and unex- 
 pected note towards the end, which may make any 
 admiration I express a little like grateful barter of 
 praise for praise. What you have said of me and 
 my work is exactly what I should wish enlightened 
 and good men like you to say and think of me. 
 For Philip himself I must, however, in spite of all 
 such suspicions, speak as I should have spoken under 
 any circumstances. Your narrative is, as ever, 
 lucid, flowing, picturesque ; your judgment upright, 
 fine, and charitable I almost doubt whether, even 
 for me, not too charitable for that darkest of human 
 beings. Perhaps, however, you will be better 
 pleased and satisfied if I repeat the general opinion 
 in England among men whose opinion I know you 
 especially value, and that is highly favourable. You 
 are generally read, and by all, I think, with the same 
 
1 88 COMPLETION OF "LATIN CHRISTIANITY" [CHAP. 
 
 earnest desire that you may finish the whole as well 
 as you have begun. Can we say more ? You were 
 fortunately well launched before the full and over- 
 whelming tide of Macaulay set in. No one reads, 
 no one can read, anything else ; and indeed, in my 
 judgment, he has surpassed himself He makes one 
 believe in the Pythagorean transmission of souls. 
 He must have been somebody in the days of 
 William III., as well as the Macaulay of his own 
 time. And then his affluence, his exuberance, of 
 language and illustration ! In the meantime my 
 three last volumes, the close of my labours, have 
 stolen into the world ; they will, I hope, soon reach 
 you. At present my only reader, the only one who 
 commands leisure, is Macaulay ; and I hear that his 
 verdict is all that I could desire. For others I am 
 perfectly content to wait my time. I can only feel 
 confident that the three last volumes will not have 
 intentionally departed from the spirit which you 
 have been so good as to express your sympathy 
 with in the three first. In one respect they must be 
 of more general interest, as embracing a long period 
 of which we have no continuous history. 
 
 I am happy to say that my hopes of seeing you again 
 among us refuse to be dissipated by all the objections 
 you raise. I cannot but think that you will break 
 even the tender bonds which hold you to your home. 
 If so, let it be boldly and speedily done. If not, I 
 beseech you to interfere with some power that may 
 take twenty years off my life, and then I will cross 
 the Atlantic to you. But this is wild talking. 
 But, for you, remember that the sooner you come 
 the more of your old friends you will find to greet 
 you, and those perhaps in better health and spirits. 
 We passed a very agreeable summer among the 
 chateaux about the Loire, in the Pyrenees, and 
 in Paris. Excepting some days of indisposition, 
 the whole was most enjoyable. We are now again 
 
VIIL] CHARACTERIZED BY MR. PRESCOTT 189 
 
 in our quiet home quiet, though in the midst of the 
 whirling city. Except an excursion to Bo wood next 
 week, I hope that we shall rest during the winter. 
 I intend, having now achieved my labours, to 
 indulge and luxuriate in reading the labours of 
 others. I have begun to enjoy (having so long read 
 so much bad Latin and Greek) my old friends the 
 great classical writers. In the enjoyment of them I 
 seem to grow young again. Mrs. Milman desires 
 me to give her kindest love to you, and to assure 
 you that there are none who would more cordially 
 welcome your return among us than I and herself. 
 I cannot help saying that you have sent us a very 
 charming reminiscence of your kindred in Mrs. 
 Twisleton. She is herself a very pleasing person, 
 besides having the merit of being connected with 
 you and talking of you. 
 
 Believe me, my dear friend, 
 
 Ever most sincerely yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 In the note to which allusion is made in the 
 foregoing letter, Mr. Prescott refers to the " History 
 of Latin Christianity " 
 
 1 ' as one of the most remarkable works of the 
 present age, in which the author reviews with 
 curious erudition and in a profoundly philosophical 
 spirit the various changes that have taken place in 
 the Roman hierarchy ; and while he fully exposes 
 the manifold errors and corruptions of the system, 
 he shows throughout that enlightened charity which 
 is the most precious of Christian graces, as un- 
 happily it is the rarest.* 
 
 * " History of the Reign of Philip II.," ii. 525. 
 
190 TOUR IN GERMANY [CHAP. 
 
 To W. H. PRESCOTT, ESQ. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 December ist, 1856. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 The date of your last letter looks reproach- 
 fully at me, but I am sure that you will ascribe my 
 long silence to anything rather than want of the 
 most sincere and cordial friendship. I received it 
 during our summer wanderings in Germany, where 
 we passed many weeks in great enjoyment, and I 
 rejoice and am thankful to 'be able to say in un 
 interrupted, perhaps improved, health. We paid a 
 visit to our friend Bunsen at Heidelberg, whom we 
 found (I know not whether you made his acquaint- 
 ance in England) in the dignity and happiness of 
 literary quiet and labour, after having so honourably 
 lost his high diplomatic position. He has a beauti- 
 fully situated house, looking over the bright Neckar, 
 on the noble ruins of the castle. Thence we took 
 the course of the five Bavarian cities, Aschaffen- 
 burg, Wurtzburg, Bamberg, Nuremberg, Ulm. At 
 Donauworth we launched on the rapid Danube, 
 and followed its stream to Vienna and to Pesth. 
 To us the Danube is a noble stream, especially after 
 its junction with the Inn, amid the magnificent 
 scenery about Passau, though I know that you 
 Americans give yourselves great airs, and would 
 think but lightly of the power and volume of such 
 a river. From Vienna to Prague and Dresden. 
 At Dresden we had the great pleasure of falling 
 in with the Ticknors, whom I had frequently seen 
 during their short stay in London ; and also with their 
 most charming relative, our friend Mrs. Twisleton, 
 and her lord. Then to Berlin ; and after a peep 
 into Holland, we found our way home. We indeed 
 have been hardly settled at home (having paid some 
 visits in the autumn) till within two or three weeks. 
 Among the parcels which awaited me on my arrival 
 
VIIL] "SOLVE SENESCENTEM" 191 
 
 was your graceful and just tribute to the memory 
 of our excellent friend, poor Mr. Lawrence. I should 
 have read it with great interest for his sake, if from 
 another hand ; with how much more when it came 
 from you, executed with your accustomed skill and 
 your pleasant style, heightened by your regret and 
 affection ! 
 
 I have not yet seen your concluding chapter (an- 
 nounced in this week's Athenczum] to the new edition 
 of Robertson's " Charles V." I doubt not that you 
 have found much to say, and much that we shall be 
 glad to read, even after Stirling's agreeable book. 
 It is rather hard that the same trespasser on 
 your field is busy with John of Austria. By the 
 way, at the Goldenes Kreuz Hotel at Regensburg 
 [Ratisbon], which was once a fine palace, they show 
 the room in which John of Austria was born. 
 But his life is comparatively of trivial moment in 
 the darkening tragedy (for you must allow it to 
 gather all its darkness) of Philip II.'s later years. 
 Though I would on no account urge you to haste 
 incompatible with the full investigation of a.11 the 
 accumulating materials of those fearful times, yet 
 you must not allow any one else to step in before 
 you, and usurp the property which you have so 
 good a right to claim, in that awful impersonation 
 of all that is anti-Christian in him who went to his 
 grave with the conviction that he above all men 
 had discharged the duties of a Christian monarch. 
 
 I am now, as you may suppose, enjoying my 
 repose, with all my interest (an interest that I 
 trust will last as long as my life) in literary 
 subjects, especially in history and in poetry, full 
 and unexhausted ; but I am not engaging in any 
 severe or continuous labour. Solve senescentem is 
 one of the wisest adages of wise antiquity, though 
 the aged horse, if he finds a pleasant meadow, 
 may allow himself a light and easy canter. I am 
 
1^2 ARTICLES IN "QUARTERLY REVIEW" [CHAP. 
 
 taking most kindly to my early friends, the classic 
 writers. Having read, in the course of my later 
 life, so much bad Greek and Latin, I have a right 
 to refresh myself; and very refreshing it is, with 
 the fine, clear writings of Greece and Rome. I 
 was tempted a few months ago, by my reviving 
 passion, and by regard for Guizot,. to make an 
 article in the Quarterly Review on his son's very 
 pleasing and agreeable book on Menander, or rather 
 on Menander himself, the purest of the pure old 
 Greeks. To the last number but one, too, I was 
 tempted to contribute an article by the Life of that 
 mysterious and, as well to a lover of Italian as 
 to one who feels a deep interest in remarkable 
 developments of Christian character, profoundly in- 
 teresting Savonarola. I venture to inform you of 
 these articles, as you perhaps may read them out 
 of friendly interest in me. 
 
 So far had I written, when, behold ! your second 
 letter made its appearance, announcing your pro- 
 mised present of (< Charles V." I at first thought 
 of throwing what I had written behind the fire, but 
 soon determined rather to inflict upon you another 
 sheet, with my best thanks and assurances that I 
 shall not leave my neighbour Mr. Routledge long 
 at peace. 
 
 The event of your Presidential Election was so 
 fully expected with us that it excited no surprise ; 
 we were rather inclined to wonder at the large 
 minority, considering the drag of the Fillmore party, 
 for Fremont. What I least like in the affair is, 
 that one of so calm a temperament as yours, not 
 accustomed to mingle in fiercer politics, should take 
 so gloomy a view of Mr. Buchanan's success. May 
 I say, in the strictest confidence, that of all your 
 representatives in this country whom I have known, 
 and some I have known for whom I have felt great 
 admiration and most sincere friendship, I was least 
 
VIIL] MR. BUCHANAN 193 
 
 prepossessed in favour of your future President ; 
 yet I cannot but think that the strong opposition 
 that he has encountered from your sober and steady 
 North will act as a restraint upon a man, if of great 
 ambition, it struck me of no common prudence. 
 Will he provoke any unnecessary hostility among 
 those who may become much stronger for a cause 
 which he must know to be in the long-run contrary 
 to the higher and nobler feelings of mankind ? He 
 strikes me as a man more likely to adopt an accom- 
 modating than a desperate policy. With you I 
 cannot but fear, but at the same time I cannot but 
 hope, at least till the fourth year comes round 
 again in its fatal cycle. 
 
 You are very kind in the interest you take in the 
 reprint of my book in America. I am rejoiced to 
 find that it has not yet been undertaken. Murray 
 gives me hope that a new edition will be called for. 
 This will give me an opportunity of correcting some 
 few errors, mere defects of style, and still more 
 mistakes in the printing. I should be very sorry to 
 be launched, as it were for ever, before your vast and 
 increasing reading public until I have given a last 
 and more perfect finish to the whole. If I should 
 not have the opportunity of doing this soon in 
 England, and should any publisher determine on 
 the hazard of reprinting in America, I should much 
 wish to furnish a list of corrections. For this reason 
 any notice of such intention would be most welcome 
 and valuable. 
 
 And now, to close, my dear friend, I must add 
 Mrs. Milman's kind love. She begs me to say that 
 you have read her a lesson of charity towards Philip 
 the Second, which she almost doubts whether your 
 eloquence can fully enforce upon her. 
 
 H. H. MlLMAN. 
 
 Do come and see us again, or make me twenty 
 years younger, that I may cross to you. 
 
194 MR. PRESCOTT'S CHARACTER [CHAP. 
 
 There was a singular attractiveness in Mr. 
 Prescott's character, of which distance had no power 
 to lessen the force, and the letters which have been 
 given show how much he had endeared himself to 
 his English friends. Kindred pursuits and kindred 
 tastes were an additional bond of sympathy between 
 him and my father, and hence the warmth of affec- 
 tionate friendship which their letters disclose. The 
 correspondence was unbroken until Mr. Prescott's 
 death early in 1859. A conversation with Mr. 
 Prescott the evening before the day of his death, 
 as reported by Mr. Milburn,* is another proof 
 of the strength of his regard for his friends in 
 England. 
 
 He then [says Mr. Milburn] led the conversation 
 to his English friends, to some of whom he had 
 given me letters on my recent visit to that country. 
 He first spoke of Lady Lyell, the wife of the cele- 
 brated geologist. . . . " And," he continued, " you saw 
 my friend Dean Milman. What an admirable person 
 he is ! I had a letter from him only a day or two 
 since, in which he gave an interesting account of the 
 opening of his Cathedral, St. Paul's, to the popular 
 Sunday-evening preachings a matter which has 
 enlisted all the sympathies of the Bishop of London 
 and of himself. He has been a prodigiously hard 
 worker, and so has acquired a prematurely old 
 look. Accomplished as historian, divine, poet, and 
 man of letters, he is at the same time among the 
 most agreeable and finished men of society I saw 
 in England." 
 
 * The conversation is printed in Ticknor's "Life of Prescott," 
 Appendix F., p. 472. 
 
VIIL] HIS DEATH 195 
 
 The next letter speaks for itself: 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 Jebruary igth, 1859. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. TICKNOR, 
 
 I must unburthen myself to some one of the 
 profound sorrow which I (I should have written we) 
 feel for our irreparable loss. I have had the happi- 
 ness to form and retain the friendship of many 
 excellent men. No one has ever, considering the 
 short personal intercourse which I enjoyed with him, 
 and our but occasional correspondence, wakened 
 such strong and lasting attachment. He found his 
 way at once to my heart, and has there remained, 
 and ever wijl remain, during the brief period to 
 which I can now look forward, as an object of the 
 warmest esteem and affection. I think I should 
 have loved the man if I had only known him as an 
 author ; his personal society only showed his cordial, 
 liberal, gentle character in a more distinct and inti- 
 mate form. That which was admiration became love. 
 There is here but one feeling among those who had 
 not the good fortune to know him, as among those 
 who knew him best deep regret for a man who did 
 honour to the literature of our common language, 
 and whose writings, from their intrinsic charm and 
 excellence, were most popular, without any art or 
 attempt to win popularity. The suddenness of the 
 blow aggravates its heaviness. I had written to him 
 but a few weeks ago (I doubt not that he received 
 my letter), expressing the common admiration with 
 which his last volume was received here by all whose 
 opinion he and his most discerning friends would 
 think of the highest value. In one respect he has 
 ended well, for he never surpassed passages in the 
 last volume ; but it is sad to think that he has ended, 
 and left his work incomplete. I can hardly hope 
 that much can be left finished by his hand ; if any- 
 thing is left, I trust it will pass into the hand of 
 
A SAD YEAR [CHAP. 
 
 him best qualified to shape and mould it into form 
 yourself. As I feel that I can express our sorrows 
 to no one so fitly as to you, so there is no one 
 to whom the sacred memory of our friend can be 
 entrusted with equal confidence. From all that I 
 have heard, his end (premature as our affection cannot 
 but think it) was painless and peaceful. And if, as 
 surely we may believe, the possession and the devotion 
 of such admirable gifts to their best uses, the pro- 
 motion of knowledge, humanity, charity in its widest 
 sense ; if a life, I fully believe, perfectly blameless ; 
 if the discharge of all domestic duties, so as to secure 
 the tenderest attachment of all around ; if a calm, 
 quiet, gentle, tolerant faith, will justify, as no doubt 
 they may, our earnest hopes, he is in that better 
 peace which has no end. 
 
 Both Mrs. Milman and I trust that you will under- 
 take the friendly office of communicating our common 
 sorrow to those whose sorrow must be more poignant 
 than ours, though, I venture to say, not more sincere. 
 We shall always think with warm interest of all who 
 bear the honoured name of Prescott, or are con- 
 nected by ties of kindred and affection with him. 
 And permit me to add, to yourself, our kindest con- 
 dolences, our best wishes, and our hopes that we 
 may see you again, and soon, in Europe. 
 Believe me, my dear Mr. Ticknor, 
 
 Ever your sincere friend, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 This year (1859), which in its earliest month was 
 saddened by the death of Mr. Prescott, might indeed 
 be marked throughout as one fatal to literature ; and 
 how much my father felt the repeated losses may 
 be gathered from the two following letters. To 
 Mrs. Austin at its close, and soon after the death of 
 her husband, Mr. John Austin, he writes : 
 
VIIL] DEATH OF MR. AUSTIN 197 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 December 24^, 1859. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. AUSTIN, 
 
 Under such circumstances friendship, sincere 
 old friendship, cannot be silent ; but what can it 
 suggest which has not suggested itself to a mind 
 and heart like yours ? You have lost not only one 
 of whom you might be so justly proud, but the object 
 of your care and anxiety during many years ; and 
 nothing is so endearing to a true woman as to be to 
 her an object of tender solicitude and watchfulness. 
 We may perhaps regret that a mind and intellect like 
 your husband's did not command, as it might have 
 done, more wide and general admiration ; that he 
 denied himself that fame which he might have 
 acquired if he had put forth before the public his full 
 strength. But those who knew him knew what there 
 was in him, and few could more highly appreciate 
 his calm wisdom, vast knowledge, and reasoning 
 powers than myself. I have much regretted that of 
 late years, from the seclusion which wisely perhaps 
 for his own happiness he chose, I had so few oppor- 
 tunities of enjoying and profiting by his society ; but 
 his memory will remain with me as that of one of 
 the most clear and vigorous intellects and agreeable 
 associates whom I have encountered in life. Let 
 me assure you (you need not, I trust, the assurance) 
 of my profound sympathy and most sincere regard. 
 When you admit any of your friends to your widowed 
 solitude, Mrs. Milman and I earnestly hope that we 
 shall not be the last to be allowed that privilege. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Mrs. Austin 
 
 (and in this my wife cordially joins), 
 
 Most sincerely and affectionately, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Prescott's death, in answer to 
 an application from Mr. Ticknor, who had under- 
 
LIFE OF PRESCOTT [CHAP. 
 
 taken to write his Life, my father sent over to 
 Mr. Ticknor so much of Mr. Prescott's correspond- 
 ence as he could find. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 June 22nd, 1859. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. TICKNOR, 
 
 I enclose in this parcel all the letters which 
 I and Mrs. Milman can find from our dear friend, 
 and entrust them to your care, in full confidence that 
 they will cross the Atlantic in safety, and return to 
 us as precious treasures, memorials of one whom we 
 loved. I think that I must have received more ; if 
 more come to light, I will forward them. Perhaps 
 there is not much in these which will interest either 
 the biographer or the public ; but a successful and 
 pleasant Life is made up of so many fine and delicate 
 touches that it is impossible to determine what may 
 or may not be of use, may be suggestive, or give a 
 gleam of light upon a noble and gentle character. 
 
 The return of these letters is acknowledged in the 
 next letter, which emphasizes the successive losses 
 which literature had in the preceding year sustained, 
 one following upon another with startling rapidity. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 January loth, 1860. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. TICKNOR, 
 
 The letters have arrived in perfect safety. 
 I fear, however, that they will have helped you 
 little in your sad but grateful task. I thank you 
 for your most interesting though gloomy vaticina- 
 tions about your country. I cannot, however, 
 persuade myself to think that liberty and civiliza- 
 tion are to suffer so terrible a blow as the disruption 
 of your Union, with all its terrible consequences. It 
 will be an awful lesson. The violation of any one 
 of the great eternal principles of humanity will bring 
 
viii.] LORD MACAULAY'S FUNERAL 199 
 
 its own chastisement. Yet I cannot but hope that 
 in some inscrutable way the dark question may 
 work itself out, however slowly, without that fatal 
 catastrophe. But our mind, my mind, is now so 
 fully occupied with nearer sorrows that I can 
 hardly speculate on the more remote. Yesterday 
 we committed to the earth, in the walls of our 
 venerable Abbey, one [Lord Macaulay] whom the 
 world, the American world as ourselves, will deplore, 
 as holding the highest place in English letters; I, 
 with some others, as a dearest friend, whose kind- 
 liness of disposition and affection for his friends 
 rivalled his transcendent powers. It was a melan- 
 choly but an imposing sight, from its calm and 
 dignified simplicity. My dear wife was struck with 
 seeing around the grave so many of those whom she 
 had so constantly seen with him at his own hospitable 
 board and elsewhere : he now in the silence of the 
 bier ; they in the silence of sorrow they to whom 
 he used to pour forth so freely the inexhaustible 
 stores of his memory and knowledge, they listening 
 and bearing their part in the general flow of such 
 conversation as has been rarely heard, will be more 
 rarely heard again. You, I know, have been present 
 more than once at these meetings meetings which 
 can never occur again, and will leave a void in my 
 life which can never be filled. You will no doubt 
 have seen, probably in the Times, a full and true 
 account of the ceremony. It devolved on me to take 
 a leading part in the arrangements, the interment 
 in the Abbey, the choice of the spot, close to the 
 feet of Addison's statue, within a rod or three yards 
 of Johnson. They were two of the great objects of 
 his generous admiration. Alas ! what a fatal year 
 for letters ! It began with Hallam, though that was 
 but a man, full of years and honours, gathered in his 
 time to his rest ; our dear Prescott, suddenly, like 
 our dear Macaulay ; John Austin, whom I suspect 
 
200 MOUNTSTUART ELPHINSTONE [CHAP. 
 
 you can hardly have seen, but a man who shrank 
 from the fame which he might have commanded ; 
 Mountstuart Elphinstone, another of our greatest 
 men, who refused greatness, who could have been 
 at any time Governor-General of India, had his 
 ambition been equal to his capacities, the gentlest as 
 well as one of the wisest of men, and certainly the 
 writer of the best, if not the most popular, history 
 of India; your Washington Irving; de Tocqueville, 
 whom I knew but little, but the French writer 
 with more of English sound sense (you see I write 
 to you as an Englishman) than any of his country- 
 men ; and now Macaulay ! Who is to rise and fill 
 their place ? But I cannot write more. I could not 
 refrain from writing as much on a loss which you 
 will feel, if not so deeply, as sincerely as we do. 
 
 Nothing as yet is known as to what is left 
 behind. I fear there can be little more than 
 materials, wanting the life, wanting the fulness, 
 wanting the finish of his mind and hand. I am, 
 however, inclined to trespass on your friendship by 
 a commission. I suspect that you in America have 
 reprinted certain works of his which have not been 
 reprinted in England. The " Essays," I believe, 
 contain some things not in our editions. Have 
 you reprinted all the " Ballads " ? Above all, have 
 you reprinted the lives from the " Encyclopaedia 
 Britannica " those of Atterbury, Bunyan, Goldsmith, 
 Johnson, William Pitt ? Would it give you much 
 trouble to send me anything of his which has issued 
 from your press, but not in a collected form from 
 ours ? You will, I am assured, enter into the feelings 
 which prompt this request. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Mr. Ticknor, 
 With great regard, ever most sincerely yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 Mrs. Milman unites with me in kindest remem- 
 brances and good wishes to you and yours. 
 
VIIL] MEMOIR OF MACAULAY 2OI 
 
 With reference to the part which my father took 
 in the arrangements for Lord Macaulay's funeral, 
 referred to in the foregoing letter, his sister, Lady 
 Trevelyan, wrote : 
 
 Whatever you do or say must be pleasing to 
 us. Who should act but so kind a friend ? 
 
 And on the evening after the funeral was over, 
 January Qth, 1860, she writes to my mother: 
 
 I cannot go to bed to-night without begging you 
 to convey to dear Dean Milman our most warm 
 and grateful thanks for all he has done. I know 
 well he did it in a great measure to satisfy his own 
 affectionate desire to do honour to his friend, but 
 I still should like him to know how much and 
 deeply we have felt his great personal trouble and 
 the perfection and beauty of all his arrangements. 
 
 At the request of the President and Council my 
 father wrote a brief obituary memoir of Macaulay 
 for the Journal of the Royal Society, which was 
 afterwards reprinted as an introduction to the 
 " History of England." It was not intended to do 
 more than supply an immediate demand, pending 
 the more full and copious biography which he 
 anticipated, and which was in due time published 
 with brilliant success by Sir George Trevelyan. 
 
 A~few more letters to and from Mrs. Austin, the 
 first of them referring to the death of my father's 
 old and much-valued friend, Dr. Hawtrey, may here 
 be inserted. 
 
202 DEATH OF DR. HAWTREY [CHAP. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 January i%th, 1862. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. AUSTIN, 
 
 Let me first express my sincere admiration of 
 the inscription over the remains of your excellent 
 husband. It is a most successful attempt in the 
 most difficult style of composition, simple, yet full, 
 expressing in a few emphatic, well-chosen words 
 (and this is the somewhat unaccountable privilege of 
 Latin over modern languages) all that ought to be 
 expressed ; suggestive, but not vague ; strong, but 
 neither forced nor laboured. It becomes the man 
 whose character will live upon his gravestone as 
 it lives in the memories of those who had the 
 happiness of knowing him intimately. 
 
 And now for the other sad subject of our common 
 sorrow. With me it is a friendship of boyhood, kept 
 up with more or less kindly intercourse since our Eton 
 days, with very many common subjects of interest. 
 Little did I think, when I accepted the offer of his 
 Mapledurham house in the summer, and had the 
 enjoyment of his society every other Sunday, and 
 sometimes the Saturday also, that we were not to 
 meet again in this world.* I begin sadly to feel the 
 inevitable lot of prolonged life. My dearest friends 
 are dropping round me with frightful frequency. I 
 cannot say that I do not make new and younger 
 friends, but they are not the old. I really think the 
 Provost was almost the last of those whom I knew 
 well (there may be others, and I doubt not are, but 
 I know not where to find them), to the end of whose 
 tether in reading especially in reading works of 
 imagination, scholarship, and what are called les 
 
 * The Vicarage, Mapledurham, which Dr. Hawtrey had lent to 
 my father for the summer months, coming over himself each Saturday 
 for the Sunday duty. It was delightful to hear the conversation of 
 these two old Eton friends on their school, scholarship, literature, 
 and other subjects in which they had common memories and 
 sympathetic tastes. 
 
viii.] LOSS OF FRIENDS 203 
 
 belles-lettres in all languages I did not come, 
 men of the Hallam and Macaulay type. And this 
 dreary close, worse than removal. Of all pathetic 
 lines none move me more to tears than old Johnson's : 
 
 From Marlb' rough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, 
 And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show. 
 
 And it is a case in which friendship must fold its 
 hands and be content to do nothing. Our friend 
 Senior was as a lawyer of infinite use, and must 
 have found melancholy satisfaction in being of use ; 
 but it would be a great question whether the sight 
 of old friends whom he might recognize, and with 
 whom he could not communicate, would not be 
 distressing rather than consoling. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Austin, now that our ranks are so 
 
 sadly thinned, we should draw closer to each other ; 
 
 we must love each other more as we feel we must soon 
 
 part. All Mrs. Milman's affectionate remembrances. 
 
 Your most sincere friend, 
 
 H. H. MlLMAN. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S. 
 
 January \th, 1866. 
 
 MY DEAR MRS. AUSTIN, 
 
 I have been a prisoner since Christmas Day 
 one of my severe colds, with latent gout, which 
 will not gratify my malicious doctors by showing 
 itself in an honest and open form. I am, however, 
 much better. Many thanks for Mr. Martineau. 
 I have only his Review writings, but they have 
 impressed me with a very high opinion of his 
 intellect and (tell it not in Oxford) of his religion. 
 When you speak of the old Unitarianism, I presume 
 you mean the low and dry Belshamism,* about as 
 
 * Thomas Belsham, 1750-1829, was the son of a Dissenting 
 minister. He became an Independent 1768, and afterwards a 
 Unitarian. He was Professor of Divinity at the Hackney College, 
 and succeeded Priestley as minister of the Gravel Pit Unitarian 
 Chapel. He was a voluminous controversial writer, apparently of 
 rather the high and dry school, in all his shifting phases. 
 
204 MR. MARTINEAU [CHAP. 
 
 religious as much of the high and dry in other 
 quarters. The tract you have sent me would be 
 more useful perhaps in other quarters where it is 
 more needed than in Manchester. The danger 
 there, I apprehend, is absolute repudiation of all 
 old belief and the adoption of new theories without 
 grave examination. I accept all the results of 
 philosophy, of natural science, freely and without 
 the least fear, but I am disposed to submit critical 
 enquiry to severe criticism. Let it have its full 
 liberty, but let me have the liberty of rejecting it, 
 if I think it arbitrary and paradoxical. So much 
 in general. For Mr. Martineau I have the utmost 
 respect ; and if we come across each other, I suspect 
 that there would be much sympathy. I have not 
 renewed the expression of my deep feeling for the 
 sad account which you give me of your separation 
 from your daughter, as not considering it as the most 
 important part of your communication. Still, I trust 
 that it is only banishment to a warmer climate 
 which is required, and that you may still keep 
 up your correspondence, though at a distance a 
 correspondence in which others as well as you have 
 felt a very lively interest. The only doubt that 
 I could entertain as to the success of your admirable 
 husband's book was whether there were as many as 
 there ought to be who could appreciate it. I do not 
 think more highly of him or of you for its success, 
 but of what I suppose one can call by no other 
 than the ordinary name, of the public. I hail any 
 sign of advancement in that quarter with ' much 
 satisfaction. 
 
 April iSM, 1866. 
 
 DEAR DEAN, 
 
 Comforting rumours reached me while I was 
 so ill of the kind interest you took in me, for which 
 first let me thank you with all my heart. I really 
 don't know why I or those who care for me 
 
VIIL] PREFACE TO TRANSLATION OF RANKE 205 
 
 should desire the prolongation of a life so denuded 
 of all that makes life valuable, yet I cannot help 
 being pleased at the thought that there are still 
 some kind friends who would not like to part with 
 me for ever. I am better, as it seems, and very likely 
 to be for a while much as I was before this singular 
 and violent attack, which is not saying much ; but 
 it may enable me to do something more towards 
 the completion of my work. Meantime we are 
 coming out, as you will see, with a new edition of 
 Ranke which has been called for. Murray asked 
 me to write a few words of preface " by way," as 
 he said, " of giving a little tclat to the edition." 
 Nothing can be more incongruous than tclat and 
 my poor self, and I have literally nothing to say. 
 I said what I thought of the book before. I cannot 
 well bepraise my translation. What remains? It 
 occurred to me, most dear and venerable Dean, 
 that perhaps out of friendship to Murray (who so 
 well deserves it) you would prefix a page or two 
 to this edition. The times are suggestive, and it 
 is to be desired that among the many who call out 
 for the downfall of the Papacy some few would 
 endeavour to know what it really is and what the 
 dangers that threaten it. The temptation to beg 
 you to grant me the honour and favour nay, some- 
 thing more than either of once before I depart 
 seeing your revered name lend its authority to 
 anything I have done is so great that I am not 
 in a condition to know whether what I ask is absurd 
 or impertinent or exacting. You will forgive me 
 even an indiscreet request. 
 
 I forget whether I ever sent you a copy * of the 
 inscription on my husband's tomb. All of it except 
 a few words is mine : those and some few corrections 
 I owe to my dear, valued friend Hawtrey. My last 
 visit to him was about this. I have put down on 
 
 * This had been previously sent. See p. 202. 
 
206 RANKE'S STYLE [CHAP. 
 
 paper a few words which (or something to the same 
 effect) are to be added on the side left vacant till 
 my time comes. Will you be so very kind as to 
 tell me if you think it will do ? It is all I would 
 have said of me. My kindest regards to Mrs. 
 Milman. 
 
 Believe me always, dear Dean, 
 
 Yours, with the most affectionate respect, 
 
 SARAH AUSTIN. 
 
 Apriltfh. 
 
 DEAR DEAN, 
 
 I am struck with shame and remorse at the 
 appearance of the enclosed. Your kind note in 
 answer to my foolish and impertinent request 
 awakened me instantly to its real character. I 
 thought I saw through the veil of kindness and 
 courtesy with which you know how to cover what- 
 ever may vex or disappoint, that you had rather 
 not do what I, or rather Murray, asked. And, 
 doing scant justice to your unbounded desire to 
 serve and oblige, I thought the matter would drop 
 of itself. If I had not thought so, I should have 
 written immediately to say that I felt the inconve- 
 nance of my request, and begged you to think no more 
 of it. I have no pecuniary interest in the book ; 
 and as for your commendations, dear Dean, how- 
 ever sweet and precious they may be, I should not 
 have begged them. Now that I have read what 
 you have done me the honour to say, I am shocked 
 at feeling that / have asked for a puff. I cannot 
 beg you to withdraw what you have so graciously 
 written, but I must entreat you to consider yourself 
 at perfect liberty to do so as far as I am concerned. 
 What your friendship for Murray may prompt I 
 must not interfere in. I have ventured to make 
 two or three slight alterations. Having had a much 
 nearer view of Ranke's style than a mere reader 
 could or needed to have, I cannot subscribe to 
 
VIIL] M. GUIZOT 207 
 
 your praise of it as lucid and easy. Yet it certainly 
 is, as you say, free from the character of unwieldiness, 
 so common to Germans. 
 
 I had a letter yesterday from M. Guizot which 
 I think it will interest you to read. You are one 
 of the very few to whom I wish to show it. It has 
 all the solemnity of a farewell. As such I receive 
 and shall reply to it. I wish I could share his con- 
 fidence. He said to me while I was engaged on 
 my husband's book, " Je suis sur que M. Austin 
 
 voit ce que vous faites." My dear neighbour 
 
 had the strongest conviction not only of & future life, 
 but that it was even now only hidden from us by 
 a veil. I feel as if I was dull and gross and stupid, 
 that I cannot arrive at this. God forgive me ! 
 Lady E. died in a sort of rapture. Her loss is a 
 very grievous one to me. 
 
 With kind regards to Mrs. Milman, 
 
 I am, dear and revered sir and friend, 
 
 Yours, S. AUSTIN. 
 
 Although my father had himself triumphed over 
 the difficulties by which his early life had been 
 beset on account of the suspicion and alarm which 
 had been aroused in some quarters by his first 
 historical work, he never, it has been remarked, 
 lost thought of others still struggling as he had 
 struggled, but was always ready to lend a helping 
 hand to rising merit, to foster any new light, to 
 speak a word in good season for the protection of 
 any who might be suffering from a similar injustice, 
 or to do away with a prejudice lingering after the 
 cause of it had been removed. A feeling of this 
 kind, enhanced by old family friendship which after- 
 wards became a sincere personal regard, gave 
 
208 CHICHELEY PROFESSORSHIP [CHAP. 
 
 occasion to the following letter, which, now that 
 he in whose behalf it was written, the person to 
 whom it was addressed, and the writer are long 
 since dead, there may be no harm, there may be 
 perhaps benefit, in reproducing. The Archbishop 
 was Sumner ; the new professorship, the Chicheley 
 Professorship of Modern History, to which Mr. 
 Montague Burrows was eventually appointed, and 
 for which Mr. J. A. Froude was a candidate. 
 
 MAPLEDURHAM, July bth, 1861. 
 
 MY DEAR LORD ARCHBISHOP, 
 
 You are no doubt aware that it is proposed 
 to establish a new Professorship of English History 
 at Oxford, of which your Grace is one of the 
 electors. Mr. Froude, the historian, is a candidate 
 for that office. Of his ability, his indefatigable 
 industry; of his admirable style; indeed notwith- 
 standing some of his historical paradoxes, which 
 I fully admit and constantly oppose of his qualifica- 
 tions in every respect, there can be no doubt. 
 
 But objections may naturally arise, especially in 
 your Grace's mind, on account of opinions which 
 he unfortunately entertained and professed in his 
 youthful days. It happens that on this point I can 
 most conscientiously furnish testimony in his favour 
 which it is but justice to him, justice to the electors, 
 justice especially to you and to the University, that 
 I should frankly communicate. The history of his 
 mind is remarkable and instructive. You are no 
 doubt aware of the fatal spell which Newman cast 
 upon his poor brother, whose " Remains " he died 
 very early were the first proclamation of what has 
 been called the Oxford opinions. Of course young 
 Froude, coming up to Oxford, fell into the hands of 
 Newman, his tutor, and his brother's dear friend. 
 
vin.] ANTHONY FROUDE 209 
 
 Newman, seeing the great ability of Froude, used 
 all his powerful influence, his subtle arts, to enlist 
 him in his train. But the spell worked in this case 
 the other way. Newman set him to write lives of 
 the Saints. " But I do not, I cannot, believe these 
 absurd, lying miracles." ''Write on, write boldly, and 
 you will believe." The consequence was even more 
 fatal. The recoil threw him back, as it naturally 
 and pardonably might, into utter unbelief. He left 
 Oxford, and wrote a clever but very melancholy 
 book. Since this time meditation and a strong 
 mind have righted him, and he has become what 
 we should wish he would become, certainly to a 
 great extent. A singular accident has enabled me to 
 adduce a very unsuspicious proof of this. I visited 
 a few years ago his father, Archdeacon Froude, a 
 very old friend of my family. Anthony Froude, 
 with whom I was then unacquainted, came over to 
 meet me. It was Sunday. We went to church. To 
 my great satisfaction I found that Anthony not only 
 attended the service with perfect propriety and 
 becoming devotion, but, it being Sacrament Sunday, 
 received the Holy Communion with us. Now, the 
 Archdeacon was one of the most pious, sincere, 
 conscientious Christians I ever knew (of the old 
 school). If he had had the slightest doubt of his 
 son's sincerity, nothing would have induced him to 
 receive him as a communicant. This your Grace 
 will observe was an ordinary occurrence, with 
 no such object in view as that for which in 
 Cowper's words the Sacrament was made a sort 
 of qualification for a place. 
 
 Since then I have continued in most friendly 
 relations with Anthony Froude. I have now a 
 letter before me in which he uses these words: "I 
 wish to live and work as a conscientious member 
 of the Church of England, and do some good where 
 before I did harm." 
 
2 1 M APLEDURH AM [CHAP. 
 
 There are two other circumstances which I am 
 desirous to urge on your Grace and the electors. 
 At a considerable sacrifice, which he could ill afford, 
 he bought up the copyright of his obnoxious book, 
 in order that it may not be reprinted. His college 
 at Oxford (Exeter) is, I believe, unanimous in his 
 favour, the Rector, a man of undoubted piety, 
 taking great interest in his success. 
 
 I am quite sure that your Grace will think me 
 fully justified in bringing these circumstances to 
 your knowledge. It would be cruel, it would be 
 unjust, it would be un-Christian, to fix a mark of 
 proscription on a man of such high abilities and 
 promise on account of youthful aberrations (the book 
 was written fourteen years ago) of which he has 
 repented aberrations which, if ever they were 
 pardonable, were pardonable under the very peculiar 
 and remarkable conditions under which, with no 
 fault of his own, he entered life. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Lord Archbishop, with 
 sincere respect and regard, your Grace's faithfully, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 I write from this charming place which you 
 know so well, almost under the shade of a cedar, 
 now a magnificent tree, planted, I believe, by your 
 hand. 
 
 The Archbishop's reply was in a very friendly 
 spirit, and was much appreciated by Froude, who 
 says : 
 
 I return you the Archbishop's letter with many, 
 very many thanks. It is more than kind ; and 
 whatever comes of the professorship, I shall always 
 feel glad to have been spoken of with so much 
 gentleness by him. To yourself I need not now 
 assure you how grateful I am for your kindness. 
 
viii.] FROUDE AND CARLYLE 21 1 
 
 This was an enduring sentiment, and I have 
 many proofs of the admiration and affection enter- 
 tained by Mr. Froude for my father. 
 
 Your father's place [he wrote] can never be filled. 
 The world has lost in him one of its wisest thinkers, 
 and I have lost the kindest friend I ever had. 
 
 Talking of Froude's paradoxes, an amusing ac- 
 count has been given me by Miss Elliot of a dinner 
 at Froude's house at which she was present and 
 sat between my father and Mr. Carlyle. Carlyle 
 began to grumble, looking across at Froude : " There 
 is a man who tries to whitewash and excuse a 
 tyrant. You cannot improve them and you cannot 
 alter them by telling soft lies about them. They 
 are cruel, wicked men, and God lets them gang 
 their ain gait." My father did not quite catch 
 what Carlyle was saying, and made his neighbour 
 repeat it. Being seized of the matter, he called 
 out : " Listen, Froude listen : here is Mr. Carlyle 
 denouncing you for making Henry VIII. a hero 
 and a great king. Won't you remind him of 
 Frederick the Great ? " Carlyle looked in great 
 dudgeon for about half a minute, and then burst 
 out into a guffaw of laughter. 
 
 The weight which was attached to my father's 
 judgment, the reliance upon his truthful fairness, 
 may be deduced from many incidental expressions 
 in the letters of his occasional correspondents. 
 
 Accept [writes the Rev. John Cairns, who had 
 sent to him a pamphlet or essay upon Strauss] my 
 
212 A PRESBYTERIAN DISSENTER [CHAP. 
 
 warmest thanks for the cordiality and generosity 
 of your praise, which, bestowed on the work of a 
 Presbyterian Dissenter, proves that the differences 
 of our common Christianity are after all external 
 and incidental, and that when the citadel is to be 
 defended all believers are brethren. As Tholuck 
 once remarked to me some more than twenty years 
 ago in Halle, " Die Gelehrsamkeit bleibt u'ber alle 
 Gegensatze erhaben." But higher still is faith, and 
 highest of all is charity. No more valued suffrage 
 to my little treatise could come from any quarter 
 than from the historian of the Jews and of Latin 
 Christianity, and I would with equal readiness have 
 received admonition or correction, had that been 
 deemed necessary. 
 
 And the letter concludes : 
 
 Once again let me gratefully acknowledge your 
 great kindness, which was not needed to enlarge 
 my heart towards the Church of England (though 
 probably I should be found, were I within the 
 pale, which cannot be, under a different standard) ; 
 and praying that our common work, greater and 
 less, in the same ample field, may be accepted by 
 the great Lord of the vineyard, and that you may 
 yet add not a few to the rich fruits you have already 
 gathered, I remain, etc., etc. 
 
 Passing to quite a different subject, I may just 
 mention a pleasant interchange of letters between 
 my father and the then Lord Derby, whose admirable 
 translation of the " Iliad " of Homer had been 
 recently published. Mr. Murray had sent to my 
 father and had asked his opinion upon two or three 
 books of this translation which were forwarded 
 as a specimen, but without giving the slightest 
 
VHL] LORD DERBY'S "ILIAD" 213 
 
 indication as to their authorship. My father's verdict 
 was altogether favourable, and I remember that he 
 was especially taken by the clear and manly English 
 of the version. In this sense he expressed himself 
 to Mr. Murray. Lord Derby writes to him after- 
 wards on December i6th, 1864 : 
 
 I have every reason to be satisfied so far with 
 the reception which my Homer has met with from 
 the " light artillery" of the Press; but it is much 
 more gratifying to me to receive the approval of a 
 scholar and a poet like yourself. I assure you that 
 it was the greatest possible encouragement to me 
 when I learnt through Murray who was the (to me) 
 unknown critic who had expressed so favourable an 
 opinion of the two sample books which I sent him. 
 I am afraid you will have thought me, though you 
 agree with me, "saucy and overbold" in the some- 
 what trenchant style of my remarks on the English 
 hexameter ; but of the great names that you cite 
 in its defence, I believe Hawtrey certainly recanted 
 his heretical opinions at least, so says a most 
 amusing little pamphlet, entitled " A Letter to the 
 Dean of Canterbury," by Mr. J. Wright, also a 
 translator of the "Iliad" in blank verse, who 
 vindicates himself and his metre against the strictures 
 of Mr. Arnold, the present Professor of Poetry at 
 Oxford ; and it must be admitted that the Professor 
 has the worst of it. If you should not have seen it, 
 it is well worth the sixpence which, I think, it costs. 
 I was in great doubt about the Greek or Latin 
 nomenclature, and in my volume of translations I 
 had written in the first book Zeus and Leto ; but 
 Lord Stanhope, who saw the MS., urged me to 
 adhere throughout to the Latin names. I still 
 waver in my opinion as to which was the best 
 course to be pursued. 
 
214 AN EXERCISE OF SCHOLARSHIP [CHAP. 
 
 In several subsequent letters Lord Derby 
 consults my father upon the true rendering of 
 doubtful passages, or passages of which his in- 
 terpretation had been criticised. After discussion 
 of one or more of these, I remember that one 
 of my father's replies ended with the hope that 
 his Lordship, who had been suffering from gout, 
 would soon be once more like his hero, Tro'Sa? 
 
 In translation as an exercise of scholarship my 
 father had a genuine belief, and his interest in his 
 sons' more or less feeble essays as schoolboys in 
 the art was incessant. He never could resist 
 showing us how lines " might be turned " (help 
 joyfully accepted) ; and many a tough passage of 
 "Paradise Lost," over which I had been sadly 
 pondering, has been transmuted by his rapid touch 
 into rolling Latin hexameters. It will not, I hope, 
 be considered too trivial if I add that, in supplying 
 us with epigrams, whether Latin or English, for 
 school consumption, he was inexhaustible. It was 
 an old custom at Westminster for the boys to 
 recite epigrams once a year in the school on a 
 subject given out by the headmaster the day 
 before, the reciter being rewarded by a gift of 
 silver pence, one, two, or three, according to 
 the judgment of the master as to the neatness 
 of the verses. The epigrams might be of the 
 boys' own composition, or they were at liberty 
 to levy contributions upon any one willing to 
 furnish them at a moment's notice. When my 
 
VIIL] EPIGRAMS 215 
 
 father was, as usual, applied to, he generally began 
 by uttering a protest, but a very short time after- 
 wards we could always tell by an amused look in 
 his face that one or more were ready. Once I 
 remember, the subject being " Aliusque et idem 
 nascitur," he gave me, with scarcely a minute's 
 interval, the following version of the Irishman's 
 puzzle: " I saw you, you saw I ; I thought that I 
 was you ; you thought that you was I ; and it was 
 neither of us." 
 
 Vidi ego te, tu me, tu te me, credo ego me te ; 
 Neuter erat, nos en idem aliusque sumus. 
 
 And on another occasion, at a time when the 
 Queen's scholars wore breeches, on the theme 
 " Crescit et decrescit res," my elder brother having 
 just been admitted on to the foundation : 
 
 I'm increasing in stature, in wisdom, and knowledge ; 
 The third of my year I shall go into college. 
 But in one thing alone there's a fatal decrease : 
 My long pantaloons cut up to the knees. 
 
 In a review of Sir John Coleridge's Memoir of 
 Keble by Dean Stanley, it is stated that there 
 were few occasions on which my father's friends 
 remembered him to have given way to a warmer 
 feeling of indignation than when by a narrow 
 prejudice he found himself excluded after Keble's 
 death from joining in the general tribute of admira- 
 tion to his memory. These feelings seem to have 
 found expression in the following letter to Arch- 
 bishop Longley. 
 
2l6 LETTER TO ARCHBISHOP LONGLEY [CHAP. 
 
 WOODLANDS, WINDLESHAM, 
 July gM, 1866. 
 
 MY DEAR LORD ARCHBISHOP, 
 
 I have received a printed letter, signed 
 by your Grace, inviting me to contribute to the 
 Keble Memorial. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances such an appeal 
 would have been most congenial to my feelings of 
 respect, and I may say of old affection, for Keble. 
 I must confess that I have long wondered, not 
 without some shame, and expressed my wonder 
 (though not publicly), that, while the dignities and 
 honours of the Church were lavished on many 
 certainly not very distinguished men, no dignity, 
 not even a barren honour, as far as I know, was 
 ever bestowed on the author of the "Christian Year" 
 and the editor of Hooker. I cannot but think that 
 this is not to the credit of those who for nearly fifty 
 years have had the disposal of those dignities and 
 honours. But Keble is not the first nor the only 
 eminent man whose claims to honour have only 
 been recognized when they have ceased to be 
 conscious of such honours. 
 
 But to pass from this now, perhaps, rather 
 irrelevant consideration, I am one, and must have 
 been known to be one, of the few surviving con- 
 temporaries of Keble at Oxford. We were at 
 one time on terms of great intimacy. I have 
 letters of his expressing very friendly affection.* 
 I remember well that he waived his claim to the 
 Professorship of Poetry, though senior in standing, 
 in my favour, and was content to be my successor in 
 that office.t In a remarkable writing, which your 
 Grace no doubt, like the rest of the world, has read, 
 and read with great interest, my name was associated 
 
 * I have been unable to find these letters. Not much of my 
 father's correspondence has survived, 
 t Cf. " Memoir of the Rev. John Keble," Coleridge, p. 206. 
 
viii.] THE KEBLE MEMORIAL 217 
 
 in a very singular manner with that of Keble.* I 
 was among the few who read the " Christian Year" in 
 MS., and I believe the first who in a popular journal 
 passed my judgment, briefly indeed, on its extra- 
 ordinary excellence. The circumstances of our lives, 
 placed at some distance from each other, and no 
 doubt divergence of opinion, severed us as regarded 
 personal intercourse ; but for my part I never ceased 
 to look up to Keble with the greatest respect, and I 
 may say reverence, for the purity, loftiness, and 
 single-mindedness of his character. 
 
 I rejoiced to hear that some tribute to his memory 
 was in contemplation ; and no one was more eager 
 to take part in the movement, no one would have 
 more heartily or readily obeyed a summons for that 
 purpose, than myself. 
 
 But on that occasion my name was not only 
 overlooked, but, as I have been credibly informed, 
 having been suggested, was deliberately and inten- 
 tionally excluded. I will not affect any false 
 modesty, but boldly say, that, as a man of letters 
 not without distinction, as one who in former years 
 obtained some fame for poetry (fame which no one 
 recognized more fully than Keble), for religious 
 poetry, I cannot but think that my name might 
 have had more weight, at least with the public in 
 general, than those of some whose title to take the 
 lead in such a movement it would be difficult to 
 explain, my name as well as other names of men 
 who in writings of very widespread popularity and 
 influence have repeatedly, emphatically, and with 
 the best qualifications for judgment borne their 
 testimony to Keble's poetic power. 
 
 I do not pretend to disguise my personal feelings 
 in this matter; but, believe me, my Lord Archbishop, 
 what I chiefly regret, and most deeply regret, is 
 that one of those rare occasions should have been 
 
 * Cf "Apologia pro Vita Sua," John Henry Newman, p. 76. 
 
2l8 A LOST OPPORTUNITY [CHAP. 
 
 allowed to pass by when the whole Church of 
 England with unwonted unison might have concurred 
 in one outburst of respect and reverence for the 
 author of the ''Christian Year" not the clergy 
 only (and among them it would have included every 
 shade of opinion), but all classes of religious men ; 
 and this not in England only, but in the United 
 States, in the Colonies, wherever God is loyally 
 worshipped in the language of England and in the 
 spirit of the religion of Christ. 
 
 Even as to the form in which it might be thought 
 fit that the memorial should appear I think there 
 would have been no difficulty. I for one should 
 certainly have acquiesced in any expression of 
 general feeling on the subject. I cannot but honestly 
 think that for the attainment of this object a less 
 narrow mode of action would have been more likely 
 to meet with success. 
 
 I trust that in what I have written there is no 
 word inconsistent with the sincere respect which I 
 entertain for your Grace as Primate, or, permit 
 me to add, with the friendship which has subsisted 
 between us for nearly fifty years. 
 I have the honour to be 
 
 Ever your Grace's faithful servant, 
 
 H. H. MlLMAN. 
 
 The Archbishop's answer to this remonstrance, 
 together with a concluding letter from my father, 
 are too interesting to be omitted, and are a further 
 proof of the sincere friendship which, dating from 
 old Oxford days, still subsisted between them. 
 
 ADDINGTON PARK, CROYDON, 
 July 2Qth, 1866. 
 
 MY DEAR DEAN, 
 
 I sincerely hope you will not imagine that 
 my silence is owing to any offence that I have 
 
viii.] THE ARCHBISHOP'S REPLY 219 
 
 taken at your letter of the Qth inst. My delay in 
 answering it has, I assure you, resulted solely from 
 the great pressure of business I had during the ten 
 days before I left London. Let me also assure you 
 that I never feel displeased by any remonstrance 
 addressed to me, either as a public officer or as 
 a private individual, provided it be addressed to 
 me in the former character in respectful terms, 
 and in the latter with frankness and courtesy. 
 In neither of these respects have I anything to 
 complain of in your recent communication. 
 
 Your strictures upon the conduct of those who 
 had ecclesiastical patronage at their disposal, and 
 yet never bestowed any on our excellent friend 
 John Keble, happily do not affect myself. I was 
 for twenty years Bishop of Ripon, and I never had 
 but one living at my disposal above the value of 
 ^300 a year. During the short time that I held 
 the Sees of Durham and York scarcely a vacancy 
 occurred, while preferment fell abundantly to my 
 two successors in those sees very recently after 
 their appointment. It was not till I became 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, after an episcopacy 
 of a quarter of a century, that I was able to 
 reward my own chaplains, who had the first claim 
 upon me. 
 
 As to the Keble Memorial, in justice to myself 
 I must explain to you that I am in no way respon- 
 sible for those who were or were not invited to 
 the meeting at Lambeth Palace. A committee had 
 been formed at Oxford without my knowledge or 
 co-operation, and I was simply asked to allow the 
 meeting to be held under my roof, in order that 
 those who had been asked by the committee to 
 attend it might discuss the scheme prepared by 
 them. As regards the exact form of memorial then 
 agreed upon, I can only say that it was shown 
 to be one so entirely in accordance with the views 
 
220 FORM OF THE MEMORIAL [CHAP, 
 
 of John Keble himself, that it would have been 
 impossible to carry a proposal for any other. 
 
 You are probably aware that some time before 
 his death there was a scheme discussed by many 
 of the leading men in Oxford for founding a hall 
 or college very similar to that which is now pro- 
 posed in honour of John Keble; and this idea was 
 adopted as being more likely than any other to 
 carry out his well-known views in this direction. 
 I am quite sure that you will have candour enough 
 to look at the matter from another point of view 
 than your own. Supposing such a form of memorial 
 to have been adopted as would have embraced 
 among its supporters all who admired John Keble 
 as a poet, but not as a Christian poet, would it 
 not have alienated many of those who knew him 
 most intimately in his later years, because they 
 regarded it as a tribute to his memory which they 
 knew would have been very uncongenial to his 
 feelings. 
 
 That your feelings should have been wounded 
 by any incident that has occurred in these pro- 
 ceedings is indeed a source of very deep regret 
 to me ; but in truth, as you will perceive from 
 what I have already said, I do not consider myself 
 responsible for any act which may have caused you 
 pain, and I heartily concur with you in the hope 
 that this passage in our lives may in no way 
 mar that friendly intercourse which has subsisted 
 between us since our Oxford days. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Dean, 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 
 G. T. CANTUAR. 
 
 WOODLANDS, WINDLESHAM, 
 July 2$rd, 1866. 
 
 MY DEAR LORD ARCHBISHOP, 
 
 I am truly grateful for the courteous and 
 friendly reply of your Grace to my letter relating 
 
VIIL] NEGLECT OF KEBLE 221 
 
 to the Keble Memorial. That letter, purporting to 
 be an answer to a letter which bore your signature, 
 in strictness perhaps was not entitled to a reply. 
 I am therefore better pleased to have received 
 one so entirely in harmony with your invariable 
 kindness and high feeling, and so worthy of your 
 exalted position. 
 
 On one point I must revert to my letter. If 
 I had thought that the extraordinary neglect of 
 Keble as to the honours and dignities of the Church 
 could by the most remote possibility apply to your 
 Grace, be assured that I should not have written 
 a word on the subject. Such a misapprehension 
 seemed to me so inconceivable, that I had no hesi- 
 tation in expressing what it was natural to feel, 
 when, looking back on our Oxford contemporaries, 
 and their titles to distinction compared with their 
 advancement and honours (I would include myself 
 among these), I saw Keble alone for above fifty 
 years no more than a country clergyman, in a 
 living, I believe, conferred on him by private 
 friendship and esteem not even a barren honour 
 attached to his name. But for this no one could 
 be less answerable than your Grace. I would only 
 add that I trust you may live many years, and have 
 the disposal of much Church preferment, in full 
 and sincere confidence that such preferment will be 
 awarded most conscientiously and to the utmost of 
 your judgment, to the advantage and honour of the 
 Church. 
 
 As to the transaction itself, nothing can be more 
 entirely satisfactory than the explanation which you 
 have had the kindness to make as regards your 
 personal share in it. But I cannot disguise my 
 regret that the persons actively concerned, not only 
 have let pass the golden opportunity of bringing 
 all parties in the Church (I hate the word " parties ") 
 into a rare and most desirable unison on one 
 
222 A MEMORIAL IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY [CHAP. 
 
 great subject of our common sympathies, but have 
 allowed that which might have been a bond of 
 wide and general union to degenerate into what 
 is thought by many a narrow and exclusive and 
 party movement. 
 
 Your Grace has no doubt heard that a memorial 
 has been prepared, exclusively signed by laymen, 
 requesting permission to erect some monumental 
 tribute in Westminster Abbey to the author of the 
 " Christian Year." It has obtained many signatures 
 of men in the highest rank and position. There 
 can be no doubt that the Dean will accede to this 
 request ; and although it was thought right to con- 
 fine the signatures to the memorial to the laity, the 
 subscriptions of the clergy will not be declined. 
 Those, therefore, who like myself are anxious to 
 show their veneration and affection for the memory 
 of Keble will have an opportunity of doing 
 so, and of gratifying their feelings towards the 
 Church's poet. 
 
 Believe me, with the warmest respect and regard, 
 Ever your Grace's faithful servant and friend, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 My father and Keble can but rarely have met in 
 later years ; but I remember once to have seen them 
 in company, I think in 1854. We were at the 
 time staying with Archdeacon Froude at Dartington, 
 when Keble, who was also in the neighbourhood, 
 drove over to meet the Dean. No one could 
 fail to be struck by the friendly, even affectionate, 
 greetings which were interchanged between them, 
 manifest proofs of an old and reciprocal regard 
 and esteem which neither absence nor divergence 
 of opinion had had power to obliterate. 
 
222 A MEMORIAL IN WESTMINSTER ABBT 
 
 great subject of our common sympathies, but have 
 allowed that which might have been a bond of 
 wide and general union to degenerate into "what 
 is thought by many a narrow and exclusive and 
 party moverm 
 
 Your ( t memorial 
 
 has lay men > 
 
 ' 'mental 
 
 to the au< the 
 
 d many signatures 
 
 ink and position. There 
 
 can be no doubt that the Dean will accede to this 
 request ; and although it was thought right to con- 
 fine the signatures to the memorial to the laity, the 
 subscriptions of the clergy will not be declined. 
 Those, therefore, who like myself are anxious to 
 show their veneration and affection for the memory 
 of Keble will have an opportunity of doing 
 so, rds jthe 
 
 Chi] 
 
 nd regard, 
 riend, 
 
 m 
 
 later years ; but I rememb seen them 
 
 in company, I think in 1854. We were at the 
 time -staying with Archdeacon Froude at Dartington, 
 when Keble, who was also in the neighbourhood, 
 drove over to meet the Dean. No one could 
 fail to be struck by the friendly, even affectionate, 
 greetings which were interchanged between them, 
 manifest proofs of an old and reciprocal regard 
 and esteem which neither absence nor divergence 
 of opinion had had power to obliterate. 
 
ix.] "LATIN CHRISTIANITY" 223 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "History of Latin Christianity" Appreciation of by Dean Stanley 
 Dean Church Mr. Froude American Writers St. Paul's 
 Funeral of the Duke of Wellington Special Evening Services 
 Letter to the Archbishop on Revision of Lectionary Views 
 on the Decoration of the Cathedral. 
 
 THE " History of Latin Christianity, including 
 that of the Popes to the Pontificate of 
 Nicholas V.," my father's opus magnum, has been 
 already more than once referred to. It was com- 
 pleted during the earlier years of his residence at 
 St. Paul's, and was published, the first three volumes 
 in 1854, the remaining three, in accordance with 
 his publisher, Mr. Murray's, advice, in the following 
 year. It would be as presumptuous to praise as 
 it would be unbecoming in me, even if I were 
 competent, to attempt any critical appreciation of 
 this book. It was universally and immediately 
 recognized as a work of the very highest order 
 a work which, as was more than once observed, 
 went far to do away with the reproach which had 
 too long rested upon English literature of having 
 produced no ecclesiastical history, save Gibbon's, 
 worthy of the name. 
 
 From that moment the publication of the 
 
224 DEAN STANLEY AND MR. FROUDE [CHAP. 
 
 "History of Latin Christianity" [if I may once 
 more use the words of Dean Stanley] the triumph 
 was complete. From that moment from the un- 
 questionable obligation under which he thus placed 
 the whole theological world of England from the 
 duty which he thus imposed upon it of reading 
 an indispensable and inestimable book he occupied 
 a position, not only unassailable, but almost un- 
 assailed. The " History of Christianity under the 
 Empire," with its gorgeous style, its wide learning 
 and lucid argument, filled a gap which had been 
 hitherto only supplied by the meagre narratives of 
 Mosheim and Milner, or by the ill-adapted trans- 
 lations of Neander and Gieseler. And now another 
 gap, still vaster, was supplied by what was, in 
 fact, a complete epic and philosophy of mediaeval 
 Christendom. 
 
 Mr. Froude writes to my father as follows : 
 
 I have finished your first volume, and I am now 
 busy with the second. The interest grows steadily, 
 but I am lost in wonder at the enormous labour 
 which the book must have cost you. The Mahomet 
 chapter is the best thing that 1 have ever read 
 on that subject. The perpetual dirt of Gibbon is 
 so disagreeable, and the impossibility of being 
 serious, that, brilliant as his account is, it does not 
 satisfy, and scarcely commands admiration. Ockley 
 was always my favourite work on Mahometanism. 
 
 And again, after the completion of the publi- 
 cation : 
 
 Last night I finished your sixth volume. What 
 can I say, except that you have written the finest 
 historical work in the English language ? The 
 interest grows from, perhaps commences with, the 
 
ix.] DEAN CHURCH 225 
 
 four last volumes. The first two, covering a vast 
 period comparatively little known, are less distinct, 
 and fail so powerfully to hold the attention. But 
 what a labour of intellect to have shifted so often 
 your point of vision to have looked at every 
 event, at every character, on all sides, before you 
 set yourself to draw it ! Calmness, impartiality, a 
 belief, fixed as the Creed, that the history of man, 
 judged as a whole, is the history of his better 
 nature struggling against his lower, and struggling 
 not altogether unsuccessfully ; that in a divinely 
 governed world no systems of faith or policy have 
 taken enduring and effective hold upon mankind 
 unless the truth in them has been greater than the 
 falsehood, these are the essentials of a great 
 writer ; and these, more than any one who as yet 
 has taken such subjects in hand, you possess. The 
 " History of Christianity" did not prepare me for 
 the " History of Latin Christianity." In the first I 
 seemed to see chiefly the philosopher, in the second 
 the man. 
 
 But perhaps a still stronger testimony to the 
 general sense of Dean Milman's high qualifications 
 as the historian of Latin Christianity, because, so 
 to say, disinterested and indirect, is given by a 
 successor in the Deanery, Dr. Church, between 
 whom and my father, though they no doubt 
 approached the consideration of purely ecclesiastical 
 questions from very different standpoints, there 
 was the attraction and sympathy which are en- 
 gendered by an equal love of justice, of charity, 
 of moderation by a community of scholarly tastes 
 and refinement. No one then was more alive 
 than Dean Church to the merits of the " History 
 
226 DEAN MILMAN'S RARE QUALITIES [CHAP. 
 
 of Latin Christianity " in its historical objective 
 aspect, though from the theological and subjective 
 his admiration might have been less unreserved, 
 and his generous appreciation is only heightened 
 by the expression of a significant regret that Dean 
 Milman's great and rare qualities had not been 
 devoted to, or extended so as to embrace, the 
 later history of the Church. 
 
 Dean Milman's great and rare qualities [he says *] 
 were even perhaps more suited for the later history 
 of the Church than for the earlier ; and though we 
 should be sorry to be without much of what he has 
 done for the Middle Ages, we are not sure that 
 we would not exchange it for the same amount 
 of work on the time from the fifteenth to the 
 eighteenth century. The English " History of the 
 Reformation " has yet to be written. . . . Dean 
 Milman's imagination and insight, his fearless 
 courage, and his unusual combination of the 
 strongest feelings about right and wrong with the 
 largest equity, would have enabled him to handle 
 this perplexed and difficult history in a manner 
 in which no English writer has yet treated it. 
 We do not say that he could be expected to be 
 entirely successful. He wanted what many of 
 our most eminent teachers of the present day want 
 a due appreciation of the reality and depth of 
 those eternal problems of thought and feeling which 
 have made theology. . . . 
 
 A man must be able to do both [give, that is, an 
 account not only of what is outward in the fortunes 
 and conduct of a religious body, but of those in- 
 ward and spiritual ideas and efforts which are its 
 
 * " Occasional Papers," i. 156-8, in a review of a volume of 
 essays published after Dean Milman's death, " Savonarola, Erasmus, 
 and other Essays." 
 
ix.] EX CATHEDRA CRITICISM 227 
 
 soul and life] before the history of that great crisis 
 in the fortunes of the world is duly set forth ; but to 
 have done the first as Dean Milman would have done 
 it so loftily, so intelligently, so fearlessly, so justly 
 would have given us a book which for the present 
 we want. 
 
 Dr. Herford, in one of those able but not altogether 
 satisfying handbooks in which the literature of a 
 period is appraised, and writers great and small are 
 consigned with infallibility, plusquam papale, to the 
 several niches which they are to occupy in the Temple 
 of Fame, has indeed said that Milman 
 
 in spite of his fine sympathetic insight, accomplished 
 scholarship, and wide and deep learning, belongs 
 to the class, so frequent in the history of English 
 culture, of those who but half apprehend the meaning 
 and tendency of their own work. 
 
 Ex cathedra criticisms of this kind are no doubt 
 difficult to meet, and seem, moreover, to imply 
 some confusion between the respective provinces of 
 the theologian and of the historian. The author of 
 " Latin Christianity " would have been too modest to 
 predicate the ultimate consequences of any work of 
 his, or the extreme inferences which might possibly 
 be drawn from it. Nor did he pretend to foretell 
 the future of Christianity : though believing in its 
 perpetuity, he believed 
 
 that by some providential law it must adapt itself 
 in its future, as it had adapted itself with such 
 wonderful versatility in the past, but with a faithful 
 
228 LATIN AND TEUTONIC CHRISTIANITY [CHAP. 
 
 conservation of its inner vital spirit, to all vicissi- 
 tudes and phases of man's social, moral, intellectual 
 being. 
 
 Thus, after a pregnant summary of the distinctive 
 tendencies and characteristics of Latin as contrasted 
 with Teutonic Christianity, the writer continues : 
 
 How far Teutonic Christianity may in some parts 
 already have gone almost or absolutely beyond the 
 pale of Christianity, how far it may have lost itself 
 in its unrebuked wanderings, posterity only will 
 know. What distinctness of conception, what pre- 
 cision of language, may be indispensable to true 
 faith ; what part of the ancient dogmatic system may 
 be allowed silently to fall into disuse, as at least 
 superfluous, and as beyond the proper range of 
 human thought and human language ; how far the 
 sacred records may, without real peril to their truth, 
 be subjected to closer investigation ; to what wider 
 interpretation, especially of the Semitic portion, those 
 records may submit, and wisely submit, in order to 
 harmonize them with the irrefutable conclusions of 
 science ; how far the Eastern veil of allegory which 
 hangs over their truth may be lifted or torn away to 
 show their unshadowed essence ; how far the poetic 
 vehicle through which truth is conveyed may be 
 gently severed from the truth, all this must be left 
 to the future historian of our religion. 
 
 l( Such fine reserve and noble reticence " appears 
 to me to be ill characterized as Halbheit, and there 
 was assuredly no half-heartedness in the ultimate 
 expressions of the author's own belief which form 
 the concluding sentences of the work to which he 
 had devoted the best years of his life : 
 
ix.] THE AUTHOR'S BELIEF 229 
 
 As it is my own confident belief that the words of 
 Christ, and His words alone (the primal indefeasible 
 truths of Christianity), shall not pass away, so I 
 cannot presume to say that men may not attain to 
 a clearer, at the same time more full, comprehensive, 
 and balanced sense of those words, than has as yet 
 been generally received in the Christian world. As 
 all else is transient and mutable, these only eternal 
 and universal, assuredly, whatever light may be 
 thrown on the mental constitution of man, even on 
 the constitution of nature, and the laws which govern 
 the world, will be concentered so as to give a more 
 penetrating vision of those undying truths. Teutonic 
 Christianity (and this seems to be its mission and 
 privilege), however nearly in its more perfect form 
 it may already have approximated, may approximate 
 still more closely to the absolute and perfect faith of 
 Christ. It may discover and establish the sublime 
 unison of religion and reason ; keep in tone the 
 triple-chorded harmony of faith, holiness, and charity ; 
 assert its own full freedom, know the bounds of that 
 freedom, respect the freedom of others. Christianity 
 may yet have to exercise a far wider, even if 
 more silent and untraceable, influence, through its 
 primary all-pervading principles, on the civilization 
 of mankind.* 
 
 The " History of Latin Christianity " has taken 
 rank as one of the standard works of English 
 literature ; and I do not think that any one who 
 is acquainted with the historical and ecclesiastical 
 writings of the last forty years can fail to see the 
 influence that it has exercised upon them, nor the 
 vast mine of information which it has been to 
 
 * For this and the two previous quotations see " Latin Christianity," 
 Book XIV., cap. 10. 
 
230 AMERICAN RECOGNITION [CHAP. 
 
 labourers in portions of the same field. In the 
 schools of the Universities it is a recognized text- 
 book ; in the United States, among a kindred people, 
 it has an equally established position. A well-known 
 American author, Mr. H. C. Lea, writes from 
 Philadelphia in 1861 : 
 
 The republication of your work in this country 
 has elicited a cordiality of appreciative criticism more 
 unanimous than often falls to the lot of works so 
 elevated in character, and so far removed from the 
 passions and struggles of the day. There can be 
 little doubt that it will maintain the position it 
 deserves as the leading authority on its interesting 
 subject wherever the English language is spoken. 
 
 And Mr. Bancroft, when forwarding a copy of the 
 American reprint of " Latin Christianity," adds : 
 
 The success of the book, if the word " success" 
 deserves to be used of an unauthorized edition, has 
 been great, and for the times wonderful. The first 
 edition of seven hundred copies was bought imme- 
 diately, and the second is reported as more than half 
 sold ; and this at a time when the book trade has 
 been, and continues to be, in a state of unexampled 
 depression such as you can hardly form an idea of. 
 But we Americans of the North are a grave, sober, 
 industrious people, more given to reading good 
 books than any nation I ever saw ; and in my time 
 I have lived under all sorts of governments, from 
 the monarchy of Prussia to that of the Roman Pontiff 
 and the Bourbon King of Naples. 
 
 So great, indeed, was the demand for the book 
 in the United States that the whole work was 
 
ix.] STEREOTYPED EDITION 231 
 
 stereotyped by an enterprising American publisher. 
 The outbreak shortly afterwards of the Civil War 
 for a time, however, absorbing every other interest, 
 and inflicting a deadly check on the publishing and 
 other trades, the plates of this edition were offered 
 to Mr. Murray, as appears in the next letter : 
 
 LANSDOWNE VILLA, RICHMOND, 
 September 2nd, 1864. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss LOUISA STANLEY, 
 
 You may suppose that I was delighted to 
 receive Arthur's [Stanley] letter, to me so full of 
 special interest. I must either make out for myself 
 or persuade Arthur to make out for me a note * 
 for the new edition of " Latin Christianity." With 
 this view, my patient, most kind, and useful wife 
 has transcribed the passage for me my son and 
 I having last night been the Young and Champollion 
 of Arthur's hieroglyphics. I think that we have 
 made out the whole, even the two words which 
 puzzled your sagacity and familiarity with his ups 
 and downs. I presume that the pilgrims are on 
 the way southward, and have not yet visited the 
 chief object of the tour, Monte Casino. I shall be 
 able, I trust, to insert the note, as at present my 
 reprint is rather in abeyance. The Americans had 
 stereotyped the book, and, taken with the form and 
 typography, Murray and I agreed to buy the plates, 
 which would enable us to publish the book at a 
 less costly price. But on close investigation we 
 find many inconveniences and some peculiarities of 
 spelling, which make us hesitate unless these faults 
 can be corrected. In the meantime accept my 
 most grateful thanks for the letter, which I enclose 
 
 * This refers to a description of Canossa, the ancestral fortress 
 of the Countess Matilda, the scene of the famous submission 
 of the Emperor Henry IV. to Pope Gregory VII. See " Latin 
 Christianity," Book VII., cap. 2. 
 
232 ADMISSION TO ST. PAUL'S [CHAP. 
 
 with the least delay possible. I shall be glad to 
 hear of the traveller's return, which, 1 presume, 
 cannot be long expected, as Arthur's presence will 
 be wanted at Oxford. 
 
 We grieve that you can give us no more cheerful 
 account of the state of things at Holmwood. I fear 
 that it must be sadly trying to you and your sister. 
 But the consciousness that you are discharging a 
 duty a duty of veneration and love must be, and 
 I am confident is, your support. We leave this 
 charming place on Saturday ; and after passing a 
 day in London, think of about a fortnight at 
 Weymouth, where I have not been for near sixty 
 years. The last and only time I have ever visited 
 that place was when my father was in attendance 
 on good old George III. : good, pace your neigh- 
 bour, John Phillimore, the author of the most 
 audacious book I ever read. Our kindest and most 
 affectionate remembrances to my dear old friend 
 my Lady, as well as to your sisters : love to you 
 from us both. 
 
 Ever your most sincere friend, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 In a letter to my father notifying the Queen's 
 approval of his appointment to the Deanery of 
 St. Paul's, Lord John Russell expressed his hope 
 that 
 
 he would be prepared to carry out the measures of 
 reform and improvement which are needed in that 
 Cathedral, and that he would be able to regulate 
 the admission of the public in a manner more satis- 
 factory than the present mode, and at the same time 
 provide for the decent respect due to a place of 
 worship. 
 
 This refers more especially, no doubt, to the 
 
ix.] OLD ABUSES 233 
 
 unseemly custom which had been for many years in 
 operation of levying a charge of twopence on every 
 person entering the Cathedral at any other time 
 than when services were actually going on. St. Paul's 
 was certainly not the only church where similar 
 objectionable customs prevailed ; but it was more in 
 evidence, and the twopenny payment had been the 
 object, and properly the object, of unceasing attack 
 in verse as well as prose. But the abolition of 
 an abuse is more difficult than its creation. Vergers 
 and others had vested interests in the fund thereby 
 created, and some little time was required before 
 arrangements could be made and the necessary 
 funds be provided for their compensation. As soon 
 as these could be completed, the whole area of the 
 Cathedral was thrown and has since remained open. 
 Of incidents in connection with my father's 
 tenure of the Deanery one of the earliest and un- 
 doubtedly the most interesting was the funeral of 
 the Duke of Wellington on November i8th, 1852 ; 
 and allusion has already been made (ante, p. 179) 
 to the labour and anxiety which were thrown upon 
 the Dean in making the necessary arrangements 
 with all the various and conflicting authorities who 
 had the ordering of the ceremony. The state of 
 confusion in the Cathedral on the morning of the 
 funeral is referred to in the " Annals of St. Paul's " ; 
 and as this work is out of print, it may be interesting 
 to reproduce my father's own account of the funeral, 
 in itself a great historic event. It was too, as he 
 says, somewhat remarkable that he who as an 
 
234 THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S FUNERAL [CHAP, 
 
 "undistinguished boy witnessed the burial of Lord 
 Nelson should officiate as Dean of St. Paul's at the 
 funeral of the Duke of Wellington." 
 
 The funeral of the Duke of Wellington lives in 
 the memory of the present generation. Nothing 
 could be more impressive than the sad, silent rever- 
 ence of the whole people of London, of all orders 
 and classes, as the procession passed through the 
 streets. But this concerns not St. Paul's. In the 
 Cathedral time had not been allowed to carry out 
 the designs as proposed by the authorities. The 
 interior was to have been entirely dark, except from 
 artificial light, lines of which were to trace out all 
 the lines of the architecture. This was thought far 
 more impressive than the dull, dubious light of a 
 November day. But the daylight was, from haste, 
 but imperfectly excluded, and the solemn effect of 
 illuminating the whole building, with every arch, 
 and the dome in its majestic circle, was in some degree 
 marred. So ill, indeed, had the time been measured, 
 that on the morning of the funeral hundreds of 
 workmen had to be dismissed and discharged from 
 the Cathedral. Yet the scene under the dome was 
 in the highest degree imposing. The two Houses 
 of Parliament assembled in full numbers, on the 
 north side of the area the House of Commons ; 
 behind these, filling up the north transept, the civic 
 authorities, the City companies, and the members of 
 the Corporation ; on the south side of the area the 
 Peers ; behind them the clergy of the Cathedral and 
 their friends. The foreign ambassadors sat on seats 
 extending to the organ -gallery. Every arcade, 
 every available space, was crowded ; from twelve 
 to fifteen thousand persons (it was difficult closely 
 to calculate j were present. The body was received 
 by the Bisnop and the Dean and the clergy, with 
 the choir, at the west door, and conducted to the 
 
ix.] SCENE UNDER THE DOME 235 
 
 central area under the dome, on which shone down 
 the graceful coronal of light which encircled the 
 dome under the Whispering-Gallery. The pall was 
 borne by eight of the most distinguished general 
 officers who had survived the wars of their great 
 commander or other glorious wars in which their 
 country had been engaged. The chief mourner 
 was of course the Duke of Wellington, with the 
 Prince Consort and others of the Royal Family. 
 
 The service was the simple Burial Service of the 
 Church of England, with the fine music now wedded 
 to that service, and other music, including an anthem, 
 of a very high order, composed by the organist, 
 Mr. Goss, on words chosen by the Dean : 
 
 "And the king said to all the people that were 
 with him, ' Rend your clothes, and gird you with 
 sackcloth and mourn/ And the king himself 
 followed the bier. 
 
 ." And they buried him ; and the king lifted up 
 his voice and wept at the grave, and all the people 
 wept. And the king said unto his servants, ' Know 
 ye not that there is a prince and great man fallen 
 this day in Israel ?" 
 
 Some of the prayers and the lesson were read by 
 the Dean.* And here must be a final tribute to the 
 memory of Sir Christopher Wren. Of all architects, 
 Wren alone, either from intuition or philosophic 
 discernment, has penetrated the abstruse mysteries 
 of acoustics, has struck out the law of the propaga- 
 tion of sound. I have been assured, on the highest 
 musical authority, that there is no building in Europe 
 equal for sound to St. Paul's. My voice was accord- 
 ingly heard distinctly in every part of the building, 
 up to the western gallery, by the many thousands 
 
 * "The congregation were requested to join in the responses to 
 the Lord's Prayer ; and the effect of many thousand voices in deep 
 emotion repeating the words after the full enunciation of the Dean 
 was intensely affecting." Times Report, November iQth, 1852. 
 
236 ACOUSTIC PRE-EMINENCE OF ST. PAUL'S [CHAP. 
 
 present, though the whole was deadened by walls of 
 heavy black cloth which lined every part. Nothing 
 could be imagined more solemn than the responses 
 of all the thousands present, who repeated, as had 
 been suggested, the words of the Lord's Prayer. It 
 fulfilled the sublime Biblical phrase, " Like the roar 
 of many waters," only that it was clear and distinct 
 the sad, combined prayer, as it were, of the whole 
 nation. The gradual disappearance of the coffin, as 
 it slowly sank into the vault below, was a sight which 
 will hardly pass away from the memory of those who 
 witnessed it.* 
 
 In connection with this tribute to the acoustic pre- 
 eminence of St. Paul's, it seems fair to say that 
 my father's voice, though not so powerful an organ 
 physically as that of many others, was singularly 
 clear and melodious, so that by skilful management, 
 with distinct enunciation, he could make himself 
 heard over a surprisingly wide area. This was often 
 noticed a few years later, when, on the establishment 
 of the evening services under the dome, the Dean 
 used Sunday after Sunday to read the Lessons to a 
 vast congregation. The general impressiveness of 
 his reading is thus on one occasion recorded : 
 
 The Dean again read the Lessons for the evening. 
 It is remarkable how well this venerable gentleman, 
 in spite of his advanced years, contrives by the 
 management of his voice to make himself heard 
 almost over the whole of the vast area a task of 
 no slight difficulty, as may be conceived. The 
 Lessons for the day, in themselves impressive in a 
 high degree, were rendered still more so by his 
 
 * " Annals of St. Paul's Cathedral," second edition, pp. 492-4. 
 
ix.] THE DEAN AS READER 237 
 
 manner of reading them ; and it could only have 
 been on the outskirts of the congregation, and there 
 only now and then, that he was inaudible. 
 
 An opinion which the Dean had long entertained 
 of the desirability of some revision of the Lec- 
 tionary was strengthened by this new experience, 
 and gave occasion to the following letter : 
 
 [Private.] 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, E.G., 
 January gtk, 1865. 
 
 MY DEAR LORD ARCHBISHOP, 
 
 In Mr. Walpole's draft Report for the Com- 
 mission (p. 20) there is a sentence which seems to 
 infer that your Grace may have the power to effect 
 a most important change in our services. I confess 
 that I had always supposed the Rubrics to be 
 included under the Act of Uniformity ; and in the 
 copy of Mr. Walpole's report, just circulated, I see 
 that he has very much restricted his former statement. 
 
 However this may be, the question of revising 
 the proper Lessons, or perhaps the whole rubric of 
 Lessons, is one on which I feel a very deep interest. 
 I gathered, either from something which fell from 
 your Grace in the House of Lords, or from general 
 rumour, that you are not averse to the considera- 
 tion of the subject. I would urge you with great 
 earnestness not to be deterred from this wise 
 resolution. 
 
 My reason for addressing you is this : Of all the 
 clergy of the Church of England I have perhaps the 
 best right to be heard on the subject. The con- 
 gregations at the special services at St. Paul's are 
 very far the largest that have ever met Sunday after 
 Sunday within the walls of any church in England. 
 I was obliged very early, from mistrust of my 
 physical powers, to decline the office of Preacher; 
 
238 REVISION OF THE LECTIONARY [CHAP. 
 
 but up to the last year, when I was incapacitated 
 by illness, I almost constantly read the Lessons. I 
 cannot describe the effect of a solemn and impressive 
 Lesson from the Old or New Testament on the vast 
 congregation. The breathless, reverential attention 
 was most striking the most simple or natural 
 homage to its beauty or sublimity. 
 
 But I must acknowledge that there were occa- 
 sionally Lessons which it was most painful, which it 
 required great courage, to read with unfaltering voice 
 before thousands of hearers from every class, of 
 every age, of both sexes, of every shade of religious 
 opinion. I will say no more, but that to relieve the 
 clergy from such a burthen would be an office worthy 
 of the head of our Church. 
 
 This change leads of necessity to no other change : 
 it touches no point of doctrine, except remotely 
 perhaps the very subordinate one of the Apocryphal 
 Lessons. I need not remind your Grace of the 
 passage in the Preface to the Second Book of 
 Homilies, in which a wide, perhaps too wide, 
 liberty of changing the Lessons was given to the 
 clergy. Do, my dear Lord Archbishop, for once 
 forestall that pressure from without which sooner or 
 later will come. I see a cloud looming in the distance, 
 not bigger than a man's hand-writing, than one 
 sermon. If your Grace does not understand my 
 allusion, the Archbishop of York, I think, would. 
 At all events I am sure that, after what I have thus 
 briefly written, you will accept my earnest advice as 
 a mark of my profound general admiration of our 
 Liturgy (those who admit and would remove some 
 few blemishes are not the least ardent admirers of 
 it), and of the sincere regard and esteem with which 
 I subscribe myself 
 
 Your Grace's 
 
 Most truly and faithfully, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
ix.] EVENING SERVICES AT ST. PAUL'S 239 
 
 The first of these evening services had been 
 held on Advent Sunday, 1858 ; and a few 
 words may be said about their introduction, the 
 more especially as there would seem to have 
 been some misunderstanding on the subject. In 
 the previous year November, 1857 Lord Shaftes- 
 bury and some of his friends had commenced a 
 series of Sunday-evening services in Exeter Hall ; 
 but these services were considered by the incum- 
 bent of the parish in which the hall is situated 
 as an intrusion upon his parish, and, in the 
 exercise of what was undoubtedly held to be 
 his legal right, he put his veto upon their continu- 
 ance. This was by many regarded as a harsh 
 measure, and hard words were aimed at a Church 
 which, while itself neglecting the opportunities 
 of attracting large masses of the people offered 
 by the noble spaces at its command, yet did not 
 hesitate to warn off trespassers upon its province. 
 A Bill, subsequently withdrawn, was brought into 
 Parliament to legalize such services ; and in the 
 meantime services were recommenced in the hall, 
 to which, liturgical forms being excluded, it was 
 assumed that no valid objection could be raised. 
 The discussion and the feeling which it engendered 
 had no doubt the effect of quickening the deter- 
 mination already formed by the Bishop of London, 
 Dr. Tait, to secure the opening of Westminster 
 Abbey and St. Paul's to popular services ; and in 
 this view he addressed a communication to the Dean 
 and Chapter of his Cathedral, urging upon them the 
 
240 DEAN MILMAN'S LETTER [CHAP. 
 
 advisability of instituting a series of special evening 
 services for the benefit of those large masses of the 
 people whom it might be impossible to attract in 
 any other way. In his own name and in that of 
 the Chapter Dean Milman replied to the Bishop 
 on February ist, 1858.* After expressing their 
 44 earnest, unanimous, and sincere desire to co- 
 operate to the utmost of their power in the promotion 
 of religious worship and the preaching of the Word 
 of God in the metropolis, especially as regards those 
 classes for which such services are more particularly 
 designed," the letter went on to discuss the prac- 
 ticability of the plan and the best methods of 
 carrying it out, and to point out the difficulties which 
 would inevitably arise from the scantiness of the 
 funds which could be applied for such a purpose ; 
 and then the Dean proceeds to develop his further 
 views for the decoration and completion of the 
 interior, so that the Cathedral might be made within 
 worthy of its exterior grandeur and beauty. The 
 Dean and Chapter desired no more than to see their 
 way clearly before embarking in an enterprise of 
 some magnitude ; nor would there appear to have 
 been any undue delay in carrying out the wishes of 
 the Bishop, as the first series of the special services 
 was held before the end of the same year, com- 
 mencing, as has been said, on Advent Sunday. 
 Once determined upon, the Dean set himself with 
 wonted energy to see that they were properly carried 
 out, rarely, so long as health permitted, omitting 
 
 * See " Handbook of St. Paul's," pp. 92-6. 
 
ix.] DECORATION OF ST. PAUL'S 241 
 
 attendance at them ; and when, at their commence- 
 ment, the Commissioner of Police came to him and 
 expressed some alarm with respect to the crowds 
 which might be attracted, he replied, "If you will 
 see that there is no disorder outside, I will undertake 
 that there shall be none within the interior of the 
 building." 
 
 Nor was there, except on the first evening, and 
 then only outside the Cathedral, where there was 
 some slight confusion and expression of disappro- 
 bation, arising, however, solely from the disappoint- 
 ment caused to many who, after long waiting, had 
 to retire, the church, on the opening of the doors, 
 having immediately been filled to overflowing. In 
 the concluding pages of the " Annals of St. Paul's " 
 a brief summary is given of what was immediately 
 done towards the adaptation of the building for 
 public worship on a larger and more comprehensive 
 scale. For carrying out the larger and more 
 ambitious scheme for the completion and decoration 
 of a building so vast as St. Paul's, the first steps 
 were almost necessarily hesitating and tentative ; 
 and the costliness of the undertaking was in itself 
 a bar to any rapid progress. One great step, the 
 starting-point of all future improvements, was, 
 however, taken as early as 1860, when, in conse- 
 quence of a plan for the enlargement of the organ, 
 the Screen between the Choir and the Dome, 
 originally set up contrary to the wishes of Sir 
 Christopher Wren, was temporarily removed. 
 The magnificent effect of the uninterrupted view 
 
 16 
 
242 FUTURE OF ST. PAUL'S [CHAP. 
 
 of the Cathedral from end to end which was 
 opened out by this removal made such an im- 
 pression upon the Dean that he at once decided 
 that the Screen should not be re-erected. Since 
 then the whole vast area of the building has 
 remained, as he desired, available for public 
 worship. 
 
 My father was well aware that he could never 
 live to see more than the first dawn of the new 
 era that was approaching in the history of the 
 Cathedral. Still, it was something to have in- 
 augurated the great work ; and he was full of 
 hope that, a beginning once made, it would com- 
 mend itself ever more and more to public favour 
 and piety, and that the day would assuredly 
 come when the great design would be worthily 
 achieved, when the last finishing grace would be 
 given to that glorious fabric which he so ardently 
 admired. 
 
x.] A COURT OF HONOUR 243 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Publishers and Retail Booksellers Clerical Subscription Commis- 
 sion Sir Joseph Napier Dean Milman's Speech and Proposal 
 Opinions of Dr. Goodwin and Lord Westbury thereupon 
 Tours Abroad Rome and the Catacombs The Passion Play 
 at Ober-Ammergau. 
 
 LEAVING, but not for long, the Cathedral, 
 I may say a few words upon my father's 
 connection with other public questions in the settle- 
 ment or consideration of which he felt that he 
 ought not to refuse such assistance as he was 
 able to give. To one of these occasions, if not 
 altogther public in the widest sense, yet still of 
 considerable importance, at least from a literary 
 and educational point of view, Lord Campbell thus 
 refers in his diary under date of May, 1852 : 
 
 I have been sitting as Chief Justice, with Milman, 
 the Dean of St. Paul's, and Grote, the historian 
 of Greece, as my puisnes, upon a grand question 
 between the publishers and the retail booksellers 
 as to the right of the former to dictate a minimum 
 price at which new books are to be sold by the 
 latter to their customers. Macaulay and all the 
 great literary men have taken a lively interest in 
 the controversy. The hearing took place at 
 Stratheden House, our court sitting foribus apertis, 
 and attended by reporters. The judgment which 
 
244 FREE TRADE IN BOOKS [CHAP. 
 
 I delivered in favour of free trade in books will 
 be a curious document two hundred years hence, 
 illustrating the manner in which knowledge was 
 circulated in the reign of Queen Victoria. I never 
 took such pains with any judgment to be delivered 
 in Westminster Hall.* 
 
 This controversy, which, in spite of Lord Camp- 
 bell's judgment, has since been more than once 
 revived, had become acute in 1852, and publishers 
 and booksellers had agreed to refer the question 
 to the arbitration of a Court of Honour, consisting 
 of representatives of literature, to which the Lord 
 Chief Justice, himself an author of considerable 
 reputation, would add the full weight of his judicial 
 position and legal acumen. 
 
 Early in 1 864 a Royal Commission was appointed 
 to consider the forms of subscription and declaration 
 of assent required from the clergy of the United 
 Church of England and Ireland, and how far they 
 might admit of alteration ; and upon this " Clerical 
 Subscription " Commission, as it was shortly entitled, 
 my father accepted a seat. The Commissioners 
 held many meetings, and at one of the later ones 
 my father proposed that the only subscription to 
 be required should be subscription to the Liturgy, 
 the Book of Common Prayer, on the ground that 
 the doctrines of our Church are more simply, fully, 
 and more winningly taught in the Liturgy than 
 in the Articles. The proposal seems to have fallen 
 like a sort of bombshell among some of the members 
 
 * " Life of Lord Campbell," ii. 307. 
 
x.] CLERICAL SUBSCRIPTION 245 
 
 of the Commission. There was an attempt to ex- 
 clude the question, the Archbishop * going so far 
 as to say that if he had known that it was to be 
 discussed he would not have served on the Com- 
 mission. He was, however, overruled, and it was 
 agreed that the discussion should be taken. My 
 father's speech, when advocating his proposal, was 
 acknowledged, even by those who widely differed 
 from his conclusions, to have been a wonderful 
 instance of moral courage, and of tact and ability 
 in handling a most difficult and delicate subject. 
 " Never," said the Dean of Ely (Dr. Goodwin, 
 afterwards Bishop of Carlisle), " had I a higher 
 intellectual gratification than in hearing that noble 
 old man expound his views before us." 
 
 The speech, although the conclusions which it 
 enforced were too advanced for the majority of 
 the Commission, made a considerable impression, 
 and it was privately printed at their request.! 
 Many excellent persons were, however, alarmed ; 
 and Sir Joseph Napier, J a member of the Com- 
 mission, gave voice to this alarm in a pamphlet 
 which, as a matter of course, claimed to have 
 refuted the Dean's arguments. 
 
 There was a rather amusing interchange of 
 letters between the Deans of St. Paul's and of 
 Westminster on the subject. My father writes 
 to Dean Stanley : 
 
 * Archbishop Longley. 
 
 t It was afterwards reprinted in Eraser's Magazine, Ixxi. 269. 
 \ Sir Joseph Napier was Lord Chancellor of Ireland, 1858, in 
 Lord Derby's second Administration. 
 
246 A THEOLOGICAL SHILLELAGH [CHAP. 
 
 ADDISCOMBE, CROYDON, September 2oth. 
 Herewith you will receive a paper in which you 
 are somewhat concerned. Why the ex-Tory Chan- 
 cellor should think it necessary to reply at length 
 and in print to a speech privately printed at the 
 request of the Commission, the Commission not 
 having authorized him to do so, I know not. It 
 seems somewhat irregular. Of course I shall take 
 no notice of it. The Archbishop, of whom I have 
 seen a good deal (not one word, of course, on the 
 three Pastorals), agreed with me that it was a 
 queer proceeding, as did Lord Cranworth. One 
 of his objects evidently is to knock the two Deans' 
 heads together. I can only say that since the 
 concussion I have not suffered the least headache, 
 nor can I think that I shall afflict you with one 
 by imparting it to you. It is a lawyer, and a 
 clever lawyer, but an Irish lawyer, taking to wield 
 the theological shillelagh. I was much taken with 
 Napier on the Commission, and we became great 
 friends. I won his heart by a quotation. It 
 appeared that the Irish subscriptions were much 
 more liberal than the English, and I proposed to 
 him to move the adoption of the Irish. 
 
 Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit et artes 
 Intulit agresti Latio, 
 
 Agresti Latio being construed the English country 
 clergy. He enjoyed one inappreciable advantage in 
 debate. He was so deaf (much more so than I 
 am) that he could hear as much or as little of his 
 opponent's arguments as was convenient, and state 
 his adversary's case so as to knock down very easily 
 the ninepins that he had set up. He has carried 
 his deafness in some degree into his written reply. 
 He has carefully suppressed the gist of my argu- 
 ment : that I did not propose altogether to do 
 away with doctrinal statements ; but that the creeds 
 
x.] SIR JOSEPH NAPIER 247 
 
 being contained in the Liturgy, this was the best 
 and the sufficient security. 
 
 I hope that you have had a pleasant tour, and 
 trust that you enlightened our friend Guizot as 
 to the state of questions about which he seems 
 as much in the dark as were he an archbishop 
 or cardinal. 
 
 To which Stanley replies, October 2nd: 
 
 How perversely amusing and amusingly provok- 
 ing is the Irishman's attack upon you! Pusey in his 
 preface to his lectures on Daniel (have you seen 
 them ? kind enough to me, but teeming with rancour 
 to every one else) accuses me of being devoid of the 
 philosophical faculty of seeing differences. It seems 
 to me that in his attempts to set the two Deans at 
 variance Mr. Napier shows that he possesses this 
 philosophical faculty in the highest degree. 
 
 My father had, as he says, taken a liking to 
 Napier ; and the attraction, in spite of diversity 
 of opinion, appears to have been mutual, as there 
 was subsequently a very friendly interchange of 
 letters between them. One of these from Sir 
 Joseph Napier to my father, acknowledging the 
 receipt of a copy of his last sermon at Oxford, 
 and otherwise interesting, will illustrate this feeling. 
 It is from Dublin, in April, 1865: 
 
 MY DEAR DEAN, 
 
 Veniam damns petimusque vicissim. Let 
 me thank you very much for the sermon and the 
 kind accompaniment of your genial letter. I assure 
 you in all sincerity I was grieved to find myself in 
 seeming collision with you before the public ; for I 
 
248 REPORT OF THE COMMISSION [CHAP. 
 
 had found so much of agreement when on the 
 Commission, I had almost supposed that our 
 difference was not considerable. We agreed as to 
 the abolition of "profane swearing," and I much 
 mistake if we differ greatly as to the amendments 
 that might be made in our Church documents, and 
 that must be made in due season, if we resolve on 
 upholding the nationality of our Church. I think 
 we also agreed in checkmating the priestly diplo- 
 matist, my Lord of Oxford, when we found him 
 resorting to characteristic means for working out his 
 special objects. 
 
 Had you taken the line of requiring revision of 
 the Articles and Formularies as a preliminary to a 
 revision or at least to a final adjustment of the 
 form of subscription, etc., it is more than probable 
 I should have co-operated with you. But I did 
 honestly believe that the subscription should include 
 the code of doctrine dogmatically declared by the 
 Church, and that the exclusion of the Articles would 
 not conduce to the welfare of the Church in England 
 or Ireland. My paper was printed and circulated in 
 the autumn ; and when in December you favoured 
 me with a very able sketch of a Draft Report, I 
 was much gratified to find that, in the statement of 
 the proper structure of a form of subscription, and 
 in the approval of the form on which we had agreed, 
 there was not a word to which I was not prepared 
 most cordially to accede and unreservedly to adopt. 
 
 I was not present at the final meeting. The 
 manoeuvres of the Bishop of Oxford had reduced 
 our Report to "dry bones," and I thought there was 
 no use in my further attendance. When I saw your 
 paper in Fraser, I did, I confess, grumble at the 
 publication, for this simple reason that it seemed to 
 me to have gone too far in the way of publication 
 or not far enough. Acting on this impulse, I was 
 led to give the Supplement, by which both of us are 
 
x.] FAIR DISCUSSION 249 
 
 pleaders at the public bar; and ''God defend the 
 right." It is not unlikely that some (perhaps many) 
 may take an intermediate view, and at all events 
 there is nothing in either paper that is not pro- 
 pounded in the spirit of kindliness and with the love 
 of truth. Free and fair discussion must always 
 advance the cause of truth. 
 
 And now, my dear Dean, let me say that I read 
 the sermon before I began the letter. I read it 
 with most sincere gratification, admiring as I do 
 the elegance of its style, the wisdom of its teaching, 
 and the spirit which it breathes throughout. If I 
 dare find a flaw, it would be this, and this only : 
 that I doubt whether it is exact to isolate the 
 " moral sense" whether the appeal of our glorious 
 Christianity is not made to man as an intelligent, 
 moral, spiritual, and immortal being, to man as a 
 complex whole. I follow Hooker, bk. i., ch. xvi., 
 s. 5. But I thoroughly agree in the pre-eminence 
 of the moral element. You imposed a penalty on 
 me, a very remedial one. Let me avenge me of 
 my adversary by sending you what at least may 
 serve to show that we move in parallels, if not side 
 by side. I am not surprised at the University 
 desiring to have your sermon published, and I 
 heartily hope it may elevate and assure the hearts 
 of good and thoughtful students in that venerable 
 and admirable institution. 
 
 Most faithfully, 
 
 JOSEPH NAPIER. 
 
 P.S. I observe that I have not given an answer 
 to two passages in your letter. I entirely agree in 
 the propriety of seeking to amend what we are 
 unable to abolish in other words, the practical 
 wisdom of doing the best we can in the circum- 
 stances in which we may be placed. But I, 
 perhaps, have put too strict a construction on your 
 emphatic commendation of the new form, and may 
 
250 LORD CHANCELLOR WESTBURY [CHAP. 
 
 not have understood that approval in the relative 
 sense that you intended when you drew it up. I 
 well remember the publication of the " History of 
 the Jews." But in the interval I have learned 
 the wisdom of moderation, the duty of deference, the 
 large provision that is obviously designed in the 
 Divine economy for "liberty of prophesying" ; and 
 whilst I hold the great eternal verities which are 
 the heritage of the Church from the beginning, I 
 candidly admit that as I grow older I feel lenior 
 et melior 'my heart enlarged, my sympathies 
 widened, and my creed simplified. What I dread 
 is the presumptuousness of shallow men, and what I 
 detest is the bigotry of narrow-minded men. But I 
 live in hope; I desire an increase of faith and charity. 
 So having made my confession in due form of 
 law, I anticipate absolution. 
 
 Again most faithfully, 
 
 J. N. 
 
 To Dr. Goodwin's opinion upon my father's 
 speech before the Commission I am tempted to 
 add that of a very different authority, Lord Chan- 
 cellor Westbury, although I do not feel at liberty 
 to quote at length the private letter in which it 
 was conveyed. The Chancellor wrote : 
 
 I have delayed for some days, in the hope of 
 finding time to write to you more fully than I 
 am now able to do, the returning you my most 
 sincere thanks for your most kind courtesy in 
 sending me a copy of your admirable and con- 
 vincing speech, and also for the gratifying note 
 that accompanied it. In the sentiments and con- 
 clusions of the speech I entirely concur. I wish 
 it had been delivered by the Speaker from a certain 
 bench in the House of Lords. 
 
x.] HOLIDAY TOURS 251 
 
 Some strong language on the efforts of the High 
 Church party to emancipate the Church from the 
 supremacy of the Crown follows, and then the letter 
 concludes : 
 
 I am told Dr. P. says, [referring to the well- 
 known judgment in which the Lord Chancellor was 
 said to have ''dismissed Hell with costs"], and 
 that many who agree with him say, " Our con- 
 solation is that the Lord Chancellor will sometime 
 feel what is meant by eternal punishment. This 
 is the modern form of Anathema, Maranatha. 
 
 My father sometimes expressed himselr a little 
 impatiently of those who, as he said, " babbled 
 about green fields " when their whole thoughts and 
 minds should be given to the work which was set 
 before them, and he was too eminently a " clubable " 
 man to have adapted himself easily to the banish- 
 ment of a country preferment ; but when the time 
 for a well-earned holiday came round, no one could 
 take a greater delight than he did in the change 
 to a country life, or, so long as he felt up to it, 
 to the at one time almost annual tours upon the 
 Continent. He had a singular skill and a genuine 
 pleasure in arranging the plans for these tours, 
 which were all carefully thought out, so as to 
 embrace within the limited time that could be 
 allotted to them as much variety as possible, com- 
 bining cities and scenery, the works of nature and 
 the works of art, in due proportion. Independently 
 of the mere physical and intellectual enjoyment of 
 these journeys, the educational value to his sons, 
 
252 EDUCATION BY EXAMPLE [CHAP. 
 
 one or more of whom were invariably of the party, 
 can scarcely be over-estimated ; nor can they, after 
 the lapse of so many years, look back upon them 
 without a deep sense of the affectionate forethought 
 with which they were evolved. 
 
 Our father had, I think, no cut-and-dried 
 " theories" of education. Example was in his view 
 of more avail than elaborated formula or precept. 
 To bring his sons face to face with, to put into 
 their way, without any constraint or compulsion, 
 merely as if it were in the natural order of things, 
 and in due measure from very early years, the 
 noblest works of literature and of art this was 
 his method of instruction. So grounded, equipped 
 with such tests, he would leave them to follow out 
 unrestrictedly each his own particular bent, to 
 winnow the wheat from the chaff, ever ready to 
 assist in the process, but never imposing opinions 
 imposed opinions and beliefs being in his judgment 
 of little value. 
 
 Half a century ago the system of Continental 
 railways was but in an inchoate stage. Many cross- 
 country journeys had to be traversed with post-horses 
 or by vetturino. And this, which would now be 
 looked upon as rather a slow procedure, was entirely 
 consistent with my father's tastes. He loved to 
 linger by the way, to visit each place on the route 
 that offered any point of historic interest, or attracted 
 by the picturesqueness of its situation. So in turn 
 were seen, and well seen, most of the principal 
 towns, most of the finest ecclesiastical and secular 
 
x.] THROUGH THE ABRUZZI 253 
 
 buildings, in France, Germany, and Italy ; so, 
 leisurely stopping at each convenient resting-place, 
 and spread out over at least three years, the lovely 
 coast of the Riviera was thoroughly explored. To 
 the cities of Northern Italy, combined with the 
 Italian lakes, the Austrian and Bavarian Tyrol, 
 several weeks in succeeding years were devoted. 
 Among the later tours that he undertook, one, in 
 1857, was to my father of peculiar interest, as it 
 fulfilled a long-felt wish to show us Rome, to 
 revisit himself the capital city of Latin Christianity, 
 and to have actual sight of many other places 
 with the names iand aspects of which his writings 
 had made him so familiar. Rome, however, and 
 the south of Italy had always been a difficulty, as 
 the tours had to be taken in the hottest months 
 of the year, July to October ; and Rome at least 
 was held to be inaccessible until the latter month 
 at the earliest. Obstacles of this kind never stood 
 long in my father's way if he had an object in view ; 
 and with the advice of Sir James Lacaita, who 
 spoke highly^ of the beauty of the scenery and 
 of the many places of interest on the route, it 
 was determined that we would make our way from 
 Florence to Naples, through the Abruzzi, under 
 the central chain of the Apennines, leaving Rome 
 till our return in the autumn, and passing by 
 Aquila, Popoli, Sulmona, Isernia, with its beautiful 
 fountains and filthy streets, Venafro, and other 
 places of interest. 
 
 It would be out 1 of place to enter at length upon 
 
254 A WILD COUNTRY [CHAP. 
 
 the details of this journey, or to attempt any 
 description of places now comparatively well known ; 
 but forty years ago the expedition was not without 
 excitement, and was perhaps for my father and 
 mother somewhat adventurous, as the accommoda- 
 tion was rough, the natives rather wild, quite 
 unaccustomed to travellers, civil enough in their 
 way, but disposed to regard an English family, 
 with travelling carriage and other impedimenta, 
 dropped into their midst, as a heaven-sent gift 
 which it would be ungracious to send on its way 
 without a considerable amount of pious pillagement 
 a process which was rendered all the easier as, on 
 crossing into Neapolitan territory, we found that all 
 the post-horses along our route had been retained 
 for some days by order of a royal prince, which 
 gave a legal excuse for refusing them altogether, 
 but not for exacting at the least double payment. 
 At Rieti, our very first halting-place after leaving 
 the more frequented road at Terni, I remember we 
 had the utmost difficulty in persuading our host 
 to adopt our views as to the number of rooms and 
 beds requisite for the accommodation of a party 
 of five. Two in a bed was a normal, three a not 
 unreasonable arrangement ; any other extravagant. 
 If we must have five beds, there was, in fact, a 
 large room with precisely five in it, and thus 
 exceptionally adapted to our requirements ! Even 
 after he had grasped and agreed to satisfy our 
 demands, he could not get over their extravagance ; 
 but, going forth into the market-place, announced 
 
x.] UNREASONABLE DEMANDS 255 
 
 to a listening crowd that he had got an English 
 family of five in his house who insisted upon having 
 five beds, and, displaying the fingers of his right 
 hand, cried out, " Cinque persone, cinque letti " an 
 announcement which was received with shouts of 
 laughter, and in consequence of which we were 
 followed, when we went out for a stroll round the 
 town, by a queer set of loafers, whom it was almost 
 impossible to shake off even on our return to the 
 inn, where they crowded up the staircase, and 
 could scarcely be persuaded to retire. 
 
 One other recollection may serve as an additional 
 illustration of the wild nature of the country which 
 we were traversing. Soon after leaving Castel di 
 Sangro, as we were driving across a high upland 
 plateau, we found that the trees had been cut down 
 for a hundred yards on each side of the road, lest 
 they should serve as a lurking-place for robbers, 
 and the peasants were travelling in companies, 
 three carts together, with their rifles lying con- 
 spicuous on the top of the freight. In spite of 
 the interest of the journey, which was great, we 
 were not, it may be confessed, altogether sorry 
 to find ourselves in Capua. At Naples, where 
 we came in for a brief but very brilliant eruption 
 of Vesuvius, at Salerno, with an expedition to 
 Paestum, Amalfi, Sorrento, several weeks were 
 spent ; and then there was a never-to-be-forgotten 
 month at Rome, where, among other things, my 
 father had the great satisfaction of visiting many 
 of the principal catacombs under the guidance of 
 
256 ALBANO [CHAP. 
 
 the Cavaliere de Rossi, whose great work, " La 
 Roma Sotterranea Cristiana," gave occasion for 
 his last contribution to the Quarterly Review, 
 an article upon Pagan and Christian sepulchres. 
 This essay, biographically speaking, is one of con- 
 siderable interest, not only as a last contribution 
 to the Review, of which he had been so constant 
 a supporter, but as giving evident expression 
 to the thoughts and feelings which crowded 
 upon the writer on entering the Eternal City 
 after an interval of five-and-thirty years, during 
 which it had been the central theme of his 
 principal historical work and seldom out of his 
 thoughts.* 
 
 We approached Rome from the south, resting 
 and attuning our minds for a few days in the 
 pure air of Albano, whence we looked down upon 
 the Campagna, broken by long lines of tomb- 
 bordered roads and broken aqueducts, and onwards 
 to the city of domes, far off, but distinctly visible 
 in the morning and evening lights. It is from 
 this direction that Rome ought to be entered, if 
 we wish our classical enthusiasm to be raised to 
 the proper pitch ; and the opportunity of doing 
 so, incidental to the route which had been taken, 
 no doubt largely influenced my father in its choice. 
 His view on the subject is best expressed in his 
 own words, or rather, perhaps, in the words of 
 
 * See " Savonarola, Erasmus, and other Essays," pp. 448, etc. 
 From the essay upon "Pagan and Christian Sepulchres" several 
 quotations are given for the reason referred to in the text. 
 
x.] PROFESSOR EDWARD BURTON 257 
 
 his old Oxford friend Professor Burton, which he 
 adopts : 
 
 It has been often said that the English traveller 
 usually enters Rome the wrong way. It has 
 never been better said than in an old book, by 
 one who, as many men living may recollect, was 
 held in the highest esteem and affection in the 
 University of Oxford, Professor Edward Burton, 
 whose early death cut him off" prematurely from 
 the highest ecclesiastical honours, which might 
 have been commanded by his profound but modest 
 learning, his singularly calm yet at the same time 
 liberal mind. We quote the passage in respect 
 for his memory, and as expressing our own 
 sentiments with peculiar force and distinctness. 
 
 The remainder of the extract, in which the very 
 different feelings which are aroused in the mind 
 of the traveller, according as he may make his 
 approach to Rome from the north or from the 
 south, from Florence or from Naples, are con- 
 trasted, is too long for reproduction here ; but to 
 the still more modern traveller even the choice 
 between these two alternatives is often denied. 
 
 How many of our fellow- creatures are now shot 
 into Rome from dreary Civita Vecchia, along the 
 dreary morass over which the railway passes, to be 
 deposited in a dreary station, as utterly unconscious 
 of any of the noble and stirring emotions which 
 used to attend the entrance into the Eternal City 
 as their portmanteau in the van ! Verily there is 
 truth in Mr. Ruskin's saying, that railroads have 
 reduced man to a parcel all that he can desire, 
 all that he can demand, is speedy and safe 
 delivery. 
 
 17 
 
258 THE APPIAN WAY [CHAP. 
 
 Compare with this the approach to Rome from 
 the side of Naples, as described by Professor 
 Burton needless to say, before the monotonous 
 uniformity of railway stations and lines had gone 
 far to reduce all entrances to one dead level. 
 
 Truly 
 
 Servabat sacros Deus olim Terminus agros, 
 Confundit vester Terminus omne solum. 
 
 And then let my father continue : 
 
 If such was the approach to Rome, fallen and 
 in ruins, what was it to Rome in her glory and 
 in her majesty ! This line of approach or rather 
 for the last twelve miles parallel to this was the 
 famous Appian Way, the queen, as it is called by 
 Statius, of the Roman roads ; and this Appian 
 Way mile after mile thronged with the sepulchres 
 and monuments of the dead. Conceive a West- 
 minster Abbey of twelve or sixteen miles, on either 
 side crowded with lofty tombs or votive edifices 
 to the dead, and a quarter of a mile or half a mile 
 deep, interrupted only here and there by some 
 stately temple to the gods, or by some luxurious 
 villa, around which perhaps the ashes of its former 
 masters reposed in state, or by the gardens of some 
 o'er- wealthy Seneca : " Senecae prsedivitis hortis." 
 . . . Thus along each of the great roads which 
 led to Rome was, as it were, a line of stately 
 sepulchres, in which lay the remains of her illustrious 
 dead, and of those who might aspire to the rank 
 of the illustrious. We may conjecture, indeed, 
 from Cicero that even in his day the most famous, 
 and hallowed by the most famous men, was the 
 Appian necropolis. In the well-known passage 
 where Tully would infer the immortality of the 
 soul from the greatness of the older Romans he 
 
x.] PAGAN AND CHRISTIAN SEPULCHRES 259 
 
 says : " An tu egressus porta Capena, cum Calatini, 
 Scipionum, Serviliorum, Metellorum sepulchra vides, 
 miseros putas illos ? " 
 
 One more extract will mark the transition from 
 Pagan to Christian sepulchres, from the Appian 
 Way to the Catacombs will mark, too, the keen 
 interest with which the writer of the essay must 
 have studied and contrasted together these monu- 
 ments of Pagan and Christian antiquity, with the 
 world of associations they would suggest to one 
 whose historical sense was so acute : 
 
 But during the early Empire appeared in Rome a 
 religious community among whom reverence for the 
 dead, a profound feeling for the preservation of 
 the body in its integrity, was not only a solemn 
 duty but a deep-rooted passion. The Christians 
 not only inherited from their religious ancestors, the 
 Jews, the ancient and immemorial usage of inter- 
 ment, but this respect for the dead was clasped and 
 riveted, as it were, round their hearts by the great 
 crowning event of their faith. Christ, in their belief, 
 had risen bodily from the grave ; a bodily resurrec- 
 tion was to be their glorious privilege. Some, many 
 indeed, no doubt in the first ages of Christianity 
 looked for this resuscitation as speedy, imminent, 
 almost immediate. Their great Apostle indeed had 
 taught a more sublime, less material tenet ; he had 
 spoken of glorified bodies, not natural bodies : ' Flesh 
 and blood cannot enter into the kingdom of God, 
 neither doth corruption inherit incorruption? But 
 the sanctity of the body committed to the earth was 
 still rooted in the very depths of their souls ; the 
 burning of the dead was to them a profanation. 
 Long before relics came to be worshipped, the 
 mangled and scattered limbs, it might be, of the 
 
260 THE CATACOMBS [CHAP. 
 
 confessor or martyr were a pious trust, to be 
 watched over with reverential care, to be preserved 
 with tender affection. This feeling is well described 
 by Prudentius : 
 
 Hinc maxima cura sepulchris 
 Impenditur, hinc resolutos 
 Honor ultimus accipit artus, 
 Et funeris ambitus ornat. 
 Quidnam tibi saxa cavata, 
 Quid pulchra volunt monumenta, 
 Nisi quod res creditur illis 
 Non mortua sed data somno ? 
 
 Cathem., x. 
 
 In these deep-seated feelings, in the obstacle 
 to their satisfaction owing to the law by which 
 interment within the walls of the city was strictly 
 forbidden, originated the Roman Catacombs, which 
 grew into an immense necropolis. 
 
 Although the absence of all gloomy and distress- 
 ing subjects is the remarkable and characteristic 
 feature in the Catacombs of Rome, no one can 
 traverse their long subterranean galleries without 
 thoughts almost too overwhelm ing for words. Least 
 of all could my father, profoundly interested as he 
 was in all the historical bearings of the scene, and 
 of the light that it diffused upon many questions 
 relating to early Christian art, to the spirit of the 
 earliest Christian communities. Mingled too with 
 absorbing interest, some sad thoughts would occur ; 
 for the journey, so successful in many ways, had at 
 an early stage been saddened by news of a family 
 loss, the death of my father's eldest brother, Sir 
 William Milman, to whom he was much attached, 
 which, letters having failed to reach him, was only 
 
x.] DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM MILMAN 261 
 
 made known to us by an announcement in the Times 
 which caught his eye at Florence. 
 
 I have avoided introducing letters of private 
 interest only, but this to a favourite niece may 
 perhaps be an admissible exception, as an element 
 in the imperfect delineation of my father's affectionate 
 nature : 
 
 FLORENCE, September ist, 1857. 
 
 MY DEAREST MARIA, 
 
 We have received no letter from any of you, 
 but have incidentally heard, through the Times, the 
 very sad, very sad news. How dearly I loved, how 
 we all loved, my good brother you all know, and 
 especially yourself, my darling niece. Alas that 
 we should be so much too far off to give you any 
 consolation besides the expression of our fondest 
 and deepest feelings ! I cannot disguise to myself 
 that your poor father's life could have hardly been 
 much more than a life of suffering, which, however 
 his temper might enable him to bear, still was rather 
 a sore trial, than much of the enjoyment of life. 
 I trust and doubt not that his end was peaceful, and 
 that he is with those he loved so fondly in life. I 
 fear to you, my dearest Maria, the loss will be the 
 heaviest, but you may at least comfort yourself with 
 the thought that you have done all that a good and 
 most affectionate daughter could do to alleviate the 
 pains and sufferings of his later years. I need not 
 say that our house, as well as our hearts, will be 
 always open to you ; and it is among the most 
 poignant griefs to us that we are now at such a 
 distance. In this I am sure that I am uttering not 
 only my own feelings, but those of my dear wife. 
 For myself I cannot but be startled and shaken at 
 the loss of two brothers within so short a period, 
 both, indeed, in years older than myself, but some 
 
262 AN AUTUMNAL DRIVE [CHAP. 
 
 time ago I should not have said older in constitution. 
 I almost indeed wish myself back in England, and 
 if I thought we could be of any essential service 
 should not scruple to return. But as before this 
 every mournful ceremony must be over, we shall 
 proceed on our journey as we proposed. At Naples 
 we shall hope to hear from some of you if from you, 
 so much the better. We shall be most anxious to 
 hear all about every one of you, of yourself more 
 particularly. Write as shortly as you will either to 
 me, to your aunt, or to your friend Arthur, who you 
 may be assured feels as deeply as any one the loss 
 of one who has been to him so invariably kind, and 
 for whose kindness I was ever most grateful. Pray 
 say something affectionate to William and Robert 
 and to your sister. 
 
 Ever, my dearest Maria, 
 
 Your very affectionate uncle, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 Two or three days at Sienna, a few more at 
 Florence, a splendid autumnal drive along the 
 Riviera di Ponente and over the Mont Cenis, 
 brought us back to St. Paul's by the end of 
 November. 
 
 In the course of another tour in 1860, we were 
 present at the performance of the Passion Play at 
 Ober-Ammergau, of which my father's impressions 
 were given in a letter to Dean Stanley,* whose 
 own account of it had appeared in Macmillans 
 Magazine. 
 
 Between my father and Stanley's family there had 
 long been an intimate friendship ; and with many 
 common sympathies and instincts, the attachment 
 * See /or/, p. 264. 
 
x.] THE TWO DEANS 263 
 
 of the two men to one another, marked on the part 
 of the younger by a touching and almost reverential 
 respect and admiration, grew as years went on. 
 There was a constant interchange of views on all 
 the more interesting literary and ecclesiastical ques- 
 tions of the day, on men and things, upon all of 
 which their communications were absolutely free 
 and unreserved. And the bond that united them 
 was still further strengthened on Stanley's appoint- 
 ment to the Deanery of Westminster, when the 
 confidential relations between the two Deans became 
 still closer. Living at no great distance one from 
 the other, with, for London, not unfrequent oppor- 
 tunities of personal intercourse, no large amount of 
 correspondence has survived. Such of my father's 
 letters as he could find were on his death given to 
 us by Dean Stanley, and a few of Stanley's to my 
 father have been preserved. Some extracts from 
 the former may be interesting, but they can only be 
 used sparingly, as the freedom and unstudied haste 
 with which they were evidently indited, while adding 
 to their charm, yet invests them with a confidential 
 character which should not be lightly overlooked. 
 Truth to tell, also, either correspondent, just at the 
 most critical moment, is apt to become somewhat 
 illegible. Stanley's handwriting was always, as is 
 well known, the despair of printers' devils. My 
 father's, on the contrary, had only been spoilt by 
 much writing under heavy pressure, aggravated, 
 perhaps, by the introduction of sharp-pointed steel 
 pens. His original handwriting was beautifully 
 
264 OBER-AMMERGAU [CHAP 
 
 clear, and some of his earlier letters might be taken 
 as models of distinct but rapid penmanship. 
 
 The first letter that I shall quote gives the im- 
 pressions already alluded to of the Passion Play 
 at Ober-Ammergau, which, as written before the 
 place had become an ordinary resort of tourists, 
 may be worth preserving, notwithstanding the many 
 subsequent accounts which have since appeared. 
 
 BADGER HALL, SHIFNAL, 
 October \%th, 1860. 
 
 MY DEAR ARTHUR STANLEY, 
 
 How was it that we never met? In truth, 
 we were, I suspect, just before you, and struck off 
 into another line. Nothing can have been more 
 prosperous or pleasant than our tour. I never 
 passed through so much beautiful scenery in so short 
 a time, and we had a delightful episode of art, to 
 say nothing of Munich and Vienna, the Correggios 
 at Parma, the Morettos at Brescia, the Gaudenzio 
 Ferraris at Vercelli. We were the week before you 
 at Ammergau. I left word that a distinguished pro- 
 fessor from Oxford, author of a celebrated work on 
 Palestine, was to make his appearance the next 
 Sunday. I duly impressed this on our host, the 
 Gemeinde Vorsteher (Scherer), the Christus of the 
 Spiel. I had given up all thoughts of the Spiel ; 
 but the landlord of the Bairische Hof at Munich, 
 having found out who I was, and having been in 
 St. Paul's, took the measure of my dignity from the 
 grandeur of the Cathedral, and wrote to secure us 
 rooms, as we supposed, and tickets. On our arrival 
 we found tickets at our command, but no rooms, 
 upon which the said excellent personage offered us 
 two clean, comfortable rooms in his own house, and 
 we had the advantage of making acquaintance with 
 the Chief Manager and Protagonist, a quiet, simple, 
 
x.] THE PASSION PLAY 265 
 
 unpretending man, serious, but not solemn. I have 
 read your account (of the affiliation, I have no 
 doubt) in Macmillan. Your impressions and con- 
 clusions accord entirely with mine. Nothing can be 
 more just or true. Perhaps, having had longer and 
 more intimate familiarity with theatricals during the 
 whole of my life, I was more struck with the effect of 
 the scenery, grouping, and dresses than you were. 
 It is a bold assertion ; but I have been in my early 
 days a constant attendant on our London theatres 
 in their palmiest days and most magnificent spec- 
 tacles. I have seen the operas in most of the great 
 Continental opera-houses ; but I never saw anything 
 so fine as what the French call the mise en scene, 
 we " the getting-up " of the play. The richness and 
 harmony of colour in the dresses (as my wife said, 
 reminding us of the old Italian pictures of Gentile 
 di Fabriano and that school) surpassed anything I 
 ever saw. Then, the fulness of the stage the 
 exact number of the whole corps dramatique, men, 
 women, and children, was four hundred and twenty- 
 six, instead of a few soldiers marching in and out to 
 represent an army or host of attendants above all, 
 the simplicity and dignity of the chorus, in number 
 nearly the same, I should conceive, in grouping 
 and mode of half-inimical representation the exact 
 counterpart of the Greek drama, excited wonder- 
 fully my astonishment and admiration. I do not 
 know whether you heard that on the Sunday 
 when we were there a most awful storm began to 
 lower on all the hilltops, darkened gradually, and 
 almost at the moment of the crucifixion burst upon 
 us. It created some slight confusion and a brief 
 delay ; the rain pelted, then almost ceased, so that 
 the drama went on to its close. There was some 
 difficulty in keeping down the umbrellas, but even 
 that was almost entirely effected by a voice of 
 authority ; so that we almost doubted whether we 
 
266 SCRIPTURAL DRAMAS [CHAP. 
 
 should have wished the storm away. I long to talk 
 the matter over with you ; in the meantime subscribe 
 fully, or almost fully, to your judgment and opinions. 
 On one or two points only I think you wrong. You 
 seem to imply that the Christus Patiens was acted. 
 This, I think, was certainly not the case. It was 
 only a literary effort, part of the scheme for super- 
 seding the heathen classics in all the schools by 
 Christian writings. It was not meant to rival 
 Euripides on the stage (I doubt whether the stage 
 was open at Constantinople for the regular drama), 
 but to be read instead of the profane tragedies. So 
 too Grotius wrote only for men of letters. Milton, 
 when meditating his Scriptural dramas, no more 
 intended them for representation than Samson 
 Agonistes. If you see the Bishop of London 
 before I do, tell him that he had the full credit 
 of having been there (at Ammergau), and of having 
 listened with much interest and admiration. The 
 Dean was promoted to the Bishopric. ... I found 
 a letter from you on my return, which had not 
 been forwarded, about the address to Maurice. I 
 am sorry that my name did not appear. I had 
 given, as I thought, ample permission to the Dean 
 of Westminster to sign for me whatever he would 
 sign, 
 
 Yours ever most truly, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
XL] RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY 267 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Bishop Colenso Defence Fund Religion and Science Notes 
 on Antagonism between Letters to Stanley To Sir Charles 
 Lyell Motion in Convocation for Abolition of " State Services " 
 Honorary Professor of Ancient Literature at Royal Academy, 
 etc. 
 
 THE two decades between 1850 and 1870 were 
 years of continuous controversy and unrest 
 in the Church of England, men's minds, especially 
 clerical minds, being much exercised by the 
 publication of the Oxford " Essays and Reviews," 
 by Bishop Colenso's disquisitions on the Pentateuch, 
 by Mr. Maurice's views upon the eternity of punish- 
 ment, and other thorny questions arising out of 
 them. 
 
 In the angry disputes of the time my father 
 took no part. The whole bent of his mind was 
 oppugnant to controversy. To some he might seem 
 to have reached " a purer air"; but against injustice, 
 against every attempt to set bounds to honest 
 enquiry, he was ever ready to protest. 
 
 Strange fact [he used to say] that the Lord's 
 Supper, which ought to have been the com- 
 munion of all true Christians with Christ, and of 
 all true Christians with each other, should be the 
 
268 COLENSO DEFENCE FUND [CHAP. 
 
 point of the most complete disunion, the subject 
 of the bitterest controversy and most implacable 
 hate. 
 
 His letters are full of allusions to what he held to 
 be the unwise and unjust nature of the proceedings 
 which were taken against some of the authors of 
 " Essays and Reviews" and others; and his name, 
 much as he differed from Colenso's conclusions, 
 lightly as he esteemed his judgment and learning, is 
 among those of the very few men of eminence in 
 the Church who subscribed to the Bishop Colenso 
 Defence and Testimonial Fund. His reasons 
 for doing so are thus stated ; they will explain 
 his position in the matter and the remarks which 
 were made upon it : 
 
 i. Because, although I strongly doubt his prin- 
 ciples, and entirely repudiate very many of the 
 conclusions of Bishop Colenso's Biblical criticism, 
 I cannot, in the interests of true religion, consent 
 to proscribe, or to restrict, the full, free, serious 
 investigation into the origin, authenticity, authority, 
 above all the interpretation, of the Sacred Scriptures. 
 
 ii. Because the condemnation of Bishop Colenso 
 has been generally based on a theory of Biblical 
 inspiration in my judgment not authorized by 
 the Scripture itself; in its rigour only of late 
 dominance or acceptance in the Church ; in no way 
 whatever asserted in the Formularies or Articles 
 of the Church of England ; fatal, as I truly believe 
 it, to the lasting authority and influence of the 
 Bible ; inevitably leading to endless difficulties and 
 contradictions ; in perilous and unnecessary conflict 
 with the science and with the discoveries of our times ; 
 making it impossible to reconcile and harmonize the 
 
XL] REASONS FOR SUBSCRIBING 269 
 
 spirit of the Old Testament with the spirit of the 
 New. 
 
 iii. Because the general tone towards Bishop 
 Colenso has been hasty, harsh, unreasoning, re- 
 pellent, rather than gentle, argumentative, con- 
 ciliatory tending to drive him, as I fear has been 
 the case, into more and more extreme opinions, 
 making any mutual understanding and approxima- 
 tion almost impossible, provoking him to more 
 confirmed hostility, instead of inducing him to a 
 calm consideration of all the bearings and con- 
 sequences of his views and of his own peculiar 
 position. 
 
 iv. Because it seems to me I write this with 
 profound reluctance, from my unfeigned respect and 
 esteem for some who are concerned in the pro- 
 ceeding (Dr. Colenso being the lawful, ordained, 
 and consecrated Bishop of Natal) unjust, or at all 
 events a very unworthy course, to endeavour, by 
 withholding his stipulated maintenance, to starve 
 him into the surrender of an office to which he 
 may think himself conscientiously bound to adhere ; 
 from the duties and responsibilities of which he 
 may think that he has no right to release himself, 
 especially after the decision of the high legal 
 tribunals that the act by which he was declared 
 deprived or deposed was one of usurped and unlaw- 
 ful authority. 
 
 v. Because, from a careful investigation of the 
 statements and documents produced by Bishop 
 Colenso (being confident that he is a man of the 
 strictest veracity), I cannot but think that, by the 
 influence he has obtained over the minds and 
 affections of many among the heathen with whom 
 he came in contact, through his familiarity with 
 their language, study of their manners and modes 
 of thought, and the general tone of his intercourse, 
 he has been successful and has advanced further in 
 
270 A DILEMMA [CHAP. 
 
 the holy office of civilizing and Christianizing the 
 heathen than has been the case with most of our 
 Missionaries. I should deeply regret if the experi- 
 ment of his manner of dealing with these tribes 
 should not have a fair trial, but should be brought 
 to an abrupt termination. 
 
 Between religion and science there could, in my 
 father's opinion, be no real antagonism. Their 
 apparent antagonism was unhappily undeniable, and 
 with thoughts for their reconcilement his mind was 
 occupied to the end of his life. To Sir Charles 
 Lyell, one of his oldest and dearest friends, he 
 wrote as follows : 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 April 4//fc, 1862. 
 
 MY DEAR LYELL, 
 
 What say you to this dilemma as to the 
 Scriptural geologists? It seems to me rather a 
 puzzler. Many writers, from Mr. Granville Penn 
 to Dr. McCaul, have asserted and endeavoured to 
 prove the cosmogony in the Book of Genesis to be 
 anticipative of and, rightly interpreted, in perfect 
 accordance with modern discoveries in astronomy 
 and geology. The difficulty seems to me insuper- 
 able. Either the writer (suppose Moses) understood 
 the full signification of all these words and images, 
 or he did not. If he did, he was consciously or 
 unconsciously a premature Newton, Cuvier, Lyell ; 
 and this without any advantage to mankind, for 
 no one for four or five thousand years after was 
 the wiser for his prophetic knowledge. If he did 
 not, the Almighty inspired into his mind words 
 utterly without meaning, which he himself wanted 
 knowledge to interpret even to himself an 
 enigmatic yet pregnant oracle, of which the key 
 
XL] THE CENTRAL TRUTH 271 
 
 was not to be discovered till the nineteenth 
 century after Christ. Down to that time it was 
 not and could not be understood, or rather must 
 have been misunderstood, by all the successive 
 generations of mankind. For my part I am content 
 with the sublime central truth, the Unity and the 
 Creative Power of God. It is this truth which, in 
 the highly imaginative form in which it was con- 
 veyed, and on account of that form stamped itself 
 on the thought and memory of man, lived through 
 ages, and, when obscured, constantly appealed again 
 to the recognition and belief of mankind. This, 
 I apprehend, is the conclusion in which the un- 
 reflective mind has rested habitually, contentedly. 
 To this the reflective mind reverts with perfect 
 satisfaction, as a refuge from the conflicting, mutually 
 destructive, theories of those who have been con- 
 stantly labouring to harmonize the language in 
 which this truth is enveloped with the changing 
 state of knowledge in their own day. 
 
 Ever, my dear Lyell, most truly yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 Sir Charles Lyell answers : 
 
 I see no escape from the dilemma you have put, 
 and hope you will force some of them to acknow- 
 ledge it ; for it is too bad, after what was gone 
 through by the astronomers, that in geology we 
 should have the same stand made in favour of a 
 revelation in science. But the pre-Adamite heresy 
 will soon cast into the shade all difficulties about 
 the age of the world before the advent of man ; 
 while, on the other hand, there is a monster of 
 more hideous mien looming in the future, in com- 
 parison with which the doctrine of pre-Adamites is 
 orthodoxy itself. I allude, of course, to the Lamarckian 
 and Darwinian theory of the origin of species, which, 
 so long as I thought it visionary, I thought amusing 
 
272 EXTREME VIEWS [CHAP. 
 
 enough, but which, now that I have grown more 
 familiar with its face and think it so probable that 
 it must be endured, I by no means find more 
 welcome. 
 
 Extreme and unauthorized views upon the literal 
 inspiration of the Bible on the one hand, the 
 intolerant and contemptuous dogmatism of the 
 modern German school of criticism on the other 
 hand, being, as my father believed, responsible for 
 much of the assumed oppugnancy between religion 
 and science, it seemed to him that it would be well 
 to set them face to face, to examine carefully and 
 dispassionately the facts upon which they were at 
 issue, the facts upon which it might at the end 
 appear that there was internecine, unapproachable 
 enmity. A few extracts from the very rough notes 
 for what was evidently intended to have been an 
 article on the subject will show the direction in 
 which his mind was working, and even in their 
 unfinished state may suggest the line of argument 
 which would have been pursued under the former 
 of these heads, those under the latter being too 
 imperfect for citation : 
 
 It is clear that, as to the moral truths of religion, 
 there is no such collision, no such antagonism. 
 The profoundest men of science may be the most 
 virtuous as well as the wisest of mankind. A 
 Herschel or a Faraday, while ranging the heavens 
 to unfold the wonders of astronomy, or tracing the 
 most subtle law of chemistry, finds no impediment 
 to the unimpeachable practice of all the domestic 
 and social excellencies. 
 
XL] EXTENSION OF KNOWLEDGE 273 
 
 The primary difficulty which arises out of the 
 expansion of human scientific knowledge is the 
 relative smallness and insignificance to which man- 
 kind has dwindled down among the works of 
 creation. The individual man, the race of man, 
 his powers, the period of his mortal existence, the 
 space he occupies upon the planet which is his 
 dwelling, the planet itself as contrasted with the 
 extent of the worlds around it extent which, after 
 heaping numbers upon numbers till they have lost 
 all distinct meaning, he finds still receding to an 
 utterly unattainable limit : all this seems to rebuke 
 the presumptuous religion which would suppose 
 mankind, the individual man, to be the special 
 and peculiar care (the doctrine of the Scriptures, 
 a doctrine without which for ages Scripture would 
 have been meaningless) of the Providence which 
 created and still sustains this illimitable and still 
 expanding universe this cosmos wherein every 
 new discovery reveals new provinces, and leads 
 to the notion that these provinces can never be 
 brought under the cognizance of the human 
 mind. . . . 
 
 But to this depressing, abasing, it might be said 
 crushing sense of the smallness, the minuteness, 
 of the individual man, of the whole race of man- 
 kind, there opposes itself a sort of consolatory 
 and redeeming consciousness of the wonderful 
 powers which have grasped and wielded these 
 discoveries. It is the human mind which has 
 reduced mankind to this miserable insignificance 
 by unfolding the limitless wonders of creation ; it 
 is the one helpless man, liable to all the infirmities 
 of his brethren, his life but a span, the Galileo, 
 the Newton . . . 
 
 " It is the race of the successors of these great 
 men who have gone on sounding the unfathomable 
 depths, and who, if they have found no bottom, 
 
 18 
 
274 THEOLOGY AND SCIENCE [CHAP. 
 
 have taken the dimensions of our sun (our sun at 
 best but one of countless suns, each with its solar 
 system), have submitted the secret of its light to 
 the analysis of the spectrum." 
 
 The history of the successive collisions of science 
 with doctrines supposed to rest on the authority of 
 Scripture has been often told in recent years most 
 recently and very ably by Mr. Andrew Dickson 
 White in his " Warfare of Science and Theology." 
 Some pregnant memoranda on this part of the 
 subject may therefore be passed over, and the few 
 remaining citations will have reference to the belief 
 on which the arguments on the theological side have 
 been founded, in the indefeasible authority of the 
 Scriptures, not on questions concerning religion only, 
 but on all questions. 
 
 It is curious that the assertors of the acceptance 
 of the Sacred Scriptures as they are now read as the 
 one indefeasible authority according to their strict 
 literal interpretation in all questions on which they 
 touch, whether religious, historical, or even scientific, 
 and those who use the extreme licence of the critical 
 school in arguing the age, authenticity, authorship, 
 of the different books from the internal evidence, 
 especially of their language, continuous or varying, 
 the use of certain terms and titles (the Elohim, for 
 instance, and Jehovah), proceed on precisely the 
 same grounds, assume the same facts, accept in the 
 fullest sense the integrity of the existing text. To 
 the first it should seem that to an inspiration of 
 primary dictation must be added an inspiration of 
 perpetual conservation, and that of the most jealous 
 and rigid kind. During the many centuries between 
 
XL] THE TEXT OF SCRIPTURE 275 
 
 the life of Moses and the completion of the canon of 
 the Old Testament, the books, especially the earlier 
 books, must have been preserved either by the 
 endowment of the original manuscript with an 
 imperishable vitality, superior to decay, accident, 
 injury, and this through centuries of confusion and 
 anarchy, before the nation possessed a capital or 
 acknowledged centre of unity, before the recogni- 
 tion, as should seem, of any class or order whose 
 office and duty it was to watch over their inviola- 
 bility during the separation and hostility of the 
 tribes after the death of Solomon ; or they must 
 have been perpetuated by a constant succession of 
 transcribers more or less trustworthy, with a know- 
 ledge of and reverence for the original archaic 
 language which would admit of no change or varia- 
 tion or modification either from silent and imper- 
 ceptible changes in the religious notions, or in the 
 forms and grammatical structure of the language, 
 the use or desuetude of words. . . . The truth is, 
 that of the history of the transmission of the 
 Hebrew writings, at least down to the time of 
 Ezra, we really know nothing. The single re- 
 corded fact, the discovery of the Law during the 
 reign of Josiah, instead of throwing light upon the 
 question, involves it in more impenetrable obscurity. 
 What was this book ? An original of the time of 
 Moses an attested or at least an admitted faithful 
 copy ? Was it the whole Law, meaning by the Law 
 the five books of Moses, or the Law in its narrower 
 sense, the Law of the theocracy, the civil and reli- 
 gious statutes of the nation ; or was it the Book of 
 Deuteronomy ? ... At a certain period, a very late 
 period, in Jewish history, there grew up a jealous, 
 stern reverence, gradually more and more servile, 
 more and more superstitious, for the sacred writings, 
 till every letter, every point, every accent, assumed 
 an authority which could not be impeached, and of 
 
276 THEORY OF INSPIRATION [CHAP. 
 
 which the scribes and lawyers and latterly the rabbis 
 were the recognized guardians. . . . 
 
 But of this reverence, this divination, of every 
 word, letter, sign, of the books, there is no evidence 
 whatever in the books themselves or in the history 
 of the people, and there is very strong collateral 
 evidence to the contrary. How, if there was this 
 unimpeachable exemplar, from which it was sin, 
 impiety, to depart by one iota, account for the differ- 
 ence of the Samaritan Text ? Of this it must be 
 acknowledged that the age and authority does not 
 seem to gain ground with the investigations of 
 modern linguistic science. But the variations in 
 the Septuagint appear conclusive against one holy, 
 irrefragable, authoritative text which refused to admit 
 any variation, any accession or diminution. . . . 
 
 The theory of inspiration, as it is usually under- 
 stood, rests on a single text of Scripture : " All 
 Scripture is given by inspiration of God." * This 
 text is of doubtful construction, still more doubtful 
 meaning. It is, however, the only one (see Dr. 
 Wordsworth, passim) alleged as a clear and 
 decisive proof of the infallibility of inspiration in its 
 more strict or even modified form. 
 
 But there is another text which, however, as it 
 were, staring every one in the face, is unaccountably 
 passed over, almost suppressed. In the preface to 
 St. Luke's Gospel we read : 
 
 " Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set 
 forth in order a declaration of those things which are 
 most surely believed among us, 
 
 " Even as they delivered them unto us, which from 
 the beginning were eyewitnesses, and ministers of 
 the word ; 
 
 "It seemed good to me also, having had perfect 
 understanding of all things from the very first, to 
 write unto thee in order, most excellent Theophilus, 
 
 * In the Revised Version : " Every scripture inspired of God." 
 
x PREFACE TO ST. LUKE'S GOSPEL 277 
 
 " That thou mightest know the certainty of those 
 things, wherein thou hast been instructed." 
 
 Now here there is not the slightest claim, not the 
 lightest allusion, to inspiration, to Divine impulse, 
 to Divine direction. It is much as if die author of 
 a new history of England or of France should say, 
 There are many histories of our country, but I 
 have determined to try whether I cannot write 
 another at least as satisfactory and trustworthy." 
 But if the Evangelist was conscious that he was 
 writing under Divine influence or with Divine 
 authority, is it conceivable that he should, as it 
 were, thus underrate his own work that he should 
 give as his own what in fact was God's ? 
 
 But this goes much further if, when St. Luke 
 wrote, there was one or more inspired Gospel of 
 which every word was infallible, dictated by the 
 unerring Spirit of God. Would he not have sub- 
 mitted in humble deference to the superior authority 
 of such a work would he not have spoken more 
 modestly of his own, for which he assumed no such 
 authority would he have ventured to repeat that 
 which was already related by the Holy Spirit, and, 
 if he did not think it presumptuous to write at 
 all, would he not have given notice to his readers 
 that his own was a work of subordinate and less 
 authoritative character? If his work was Divine, 
 the dictate of the infallible Spirit of God, why leave 
 it without the seal and testimony to his unerring 
 accuracy? If it were not Divine, why compete 
 with those that were? . . . 
 
 But the critical school must submit to criticism. 
 It ought not to complain if that criticism is of the 
 most severe, searching, and sceptical character. We 
 want an Ewald to criticise an Ewald. 
 
 A few more letters with no strict adherence to 
 chronological order may now find their place. 
 
278 AIDS TO FAITH [CHAP. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 October 2gth, 1862. 
 
 MY DEAR ARTHUR STANLEY, 
 
 The sermons are excellent for their fitness. 
 It was a most difficult task. . . . Many thanks for 
 the volume. I have read too with much interest 
 the article in Fraser s Magazine [on " Aids to 
 Faith"]. It was of course intended for the Times. 
 But it is much to be regretted that it was issued 
 at the time and from the quarter in which it 
 appeared. If any shot can be fired without effect, 
 it would be from an August number of a magazine. 
 In August all the world is away, the universities 
 dispersed, the clubs deserted, all English manhood 
 on foreign railroads, climbing the Alps with one 
 study alone, their Murray. Can it not be reframed 
 and reissued on some other occasion ? The Second 
 Book of Samuel ? I borrowed your most happy 
 title the other day. It threw Murray off" his guard, 
 and he had not a word of his usual prudential 
 affectation of ignorance or clever fencing off" of 
 such questions. I added, " I presume that the 
 appropriate text brings it home to Samuel : ' He 
 hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord.' ' Can we 
 have a better or clearer prefiguration of a slashing 
 theological argument ? For Agag read Jowett or 
 Williams. I have no doubt you have read Grote's 
 (of Cambridge) dissection of Lushington's judgment. 
 It is dry, difficult, hard, but to me perfectly con- 
 clusive. I cannot think the judgment can stand. 
 It is fortunate, perhaps, that the concessions he 
 makes are so much clear gain ; while, if his active 
 decrees are overset, as overset I think they must 
 be, the whole case will be decided against Samuel 
 and Sarum. But I fear that Colenso will neutralize 
 your irenicon, and plunge us into internecine war. 
 The subject is too long to write about. Colenso 
 made great attempts to force himself upon me ; but 
 I heard so much from authoritative quarters of his 
 
XL] THE SECOND BOOK OF SAMUEL 279 
 
 strange conduct in his diocese, where he was at war 
 with every class, clergy, Boers, colonists (who broke 
 his windows), that I fought very shy. As my book 
 was coming out, in which I find that there are some 
 things, especially about the chronology and the 
 numbers, in which I have been always with him, 
 though not arriving at the same conclusions, I 
 thought it was much better that no one should 
 even suspect any common understanding. I am 
 sorry for his publication. The preface is the best 
 part, and there is something very striking in the 
 difficulties of his Zulus. But I fear that the man 
 is not well advised, and will bring odium instead of 
 strength to liberal opinions. I shall read the rest 
 of his book, which Longman brought to me yesterday. 
 After all his excuses one cannot but feel very strongly 
 that such a book should not come from a missionary 
 bishop. He is too, as I hear, to a certain extent 
 under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Capetown, 
 a worthy and amiable, but one of the smallest and 
 narrowest of men. I foresee much mischief and 
 little good. In your estimate of the Second Book 
 of Samuel I fully agree with you. We want a 
 theological Huxley to pin his Lordship down to 
 strict logic and fair inference. But he knows to 
 whom and for whom he writes. I have no doubt 
 that half the parsonages in England are ringing 
 with wonder at the overpowering eloquence, pro- 
 found thought, wide learning (he should leave 
 Lessing and Hegel alone), as well as at the final 
 coup-de-grace of the unhappy Essayists. Are you 
 likely to be in London ? I should so much like 
 a talk about Colenso, etc. 
 
 Ever most sincerely, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 You have heard no doubt, as I have with deep 
 regret, about Maurice. What a strange, perverse, 
 noble, unaccountable, intractable, right- hearted, and 
 
280 CONVOCATION [CHAP. 
 
 wrong-headed man it is ! I fear he is unpersuadable, 
 and all about Colenso, who has behaved exceedingly 
 ill to him. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 February 2btk, 1863. 
 
 MY DEAR ARTHUR STANLEY, 
 
 I must not, dare not, venture to Convocation. 
 Of all places for catching cold, the Jerusalem Chamber 
 and its precincts are the worst. Nor, if there is a fray, 
 could I keep out of it ; yet I want vigour to play any 
 important part, and ought not to overexert myself. 
 I presume that you are anxious to test one of your 
 Christian virtues (patience), and therefore wish to 
 be present at a debate. Your curiosity, I expect, 
 will be glutted. I hope, if Golfius (Jelf) persists 
 in his motion, that some one will move the previous 
 question, on the broad principle that the censure 
 of books is the last function which Convocation 
 would be wise to resume. It is the question on 
 which of old it burnt its fingers. One of the last 
 books which it decided to condemn, " Burnet on 
 the Articles," is now the standard authority at both 
 Universities. If I remember right, it was on this 
 question that Convocation was finally laid on the 
 shelf. If this is the issue in the present case, I 
 shall see some good in the movement. 
 
 Ever most truly yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 November 2$th, 1863. 
 
 MY DEAR ARTHUR STANLEY, 
 
 Alas ! since you dined here I have been 
 confined almost entirely to my bed. Thank God, 
 I am now in a fair way of recovery, but must be 
 very cautious. It was an attack of cold and in- 
 sidious gout, much like that under which I suffered 
 three years ago. I have begun to correct the 
 
xi.] STANLEY LEAVES OXFORD 281 
 
 sheets of the " Latin Christianity," and shall be glad 
 of the note upon Canossa. As busy as you may 
 be in one way now, you will be happy indeed next 
 month. Of course I have not seen and have had 
 no communication with my Westminster friends. 
 I greatly wished to have brought you and Lord 
 John Thynne together. Who is to be your 
 successor ? Whom do you wish for ? The more 
 I think upon it, the more am I perplexed and 
 alarmed. Your removal will throw us (Oxonians) 
 back for twenty years. I am rejoiced for your 
 sake, sad for the University? " Hoc Ithacus velit 
 (sly S.) et magno mercentur Atridae." Pusey and 
 the High Church : they will even bear your pro- 
 motion with complacency. Have you had time 
 to look at Thirlwall ipsissimus the cold subtle 
 analysis, the skilful steering out of the way of all 
 the perilous rocks, and at the end the sudden smash 
 of the Lower House of Convocation ? I should 
 like to see George Denison's face as he reads it. 
 A copy of the " History of Christianity " awaits your 
 order at Murray's. I doubted where to send it, 
 as I know by experience the worry of library 
 flittings. 
 
 Ever, with most earnest good-wishes for your 
 happiness, 
 
 Yours truly and affectionately, 
 
 H. H. MlLMAN. 
 
 DEANERY, ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 April 2\st, 1867. 
 
 MY DEAR DEAN OF WESTMINSTER, 
 
 " Ritualism " is excellent.* I do not know 
 that you have written on any subject with greater 
 force and power, and the tone courageous and 
 at the same time candid. What will be the effect ? 
 
 * An article in the Edinburgh Review, afterwards reprinted in 
 " Essays on Church and State." 
 
282 RITUALISM [CHAP. 
 
 Will the " orthodox" admit your aid and quietly 
 put by the admonitions to themselves ? As for 
 the Ritualists, argument is thrown away upon 
 them ; and they are too serious for ridicule, or 
 else one almost longs for a page or two of good 
 old Sydney. After all I should like to see this 
 view worked out. Is not the whole a veritable 
 reaction from the plethora of preaching, which has 
 ruined the constitution of the clergy in general, 
 and caused a surfeit in the mass of our congrega- 
 tions ? It exhausts prematurely the intellect where 
 there is intellect of the young clergy. You take a 
 man of twenty-three, unread, and the more assuming 
 because unread, and put him, perhaps, into a "Peel" 
 Church, with three services, to preach about a 
 hundred and fifty sermons a year. The consequence 
 is that you may count on your fingers the really 
 good and effective preachers in the Church. On 
 the other hand, your congregations are growing in 
 intelligence. They read six or (by our Lady) 
 seven days in the week newspaper articles much 
 better written than most sermons. What are the 
 poor young clergy to do ? They are almost driven 
 into utter ceremonialism. In the first place (do 
 not be shocked at my profaneness) they have a 
 rival Church, and " minor theatres " always attract 
 by melodrama. Then, in their poverty, conscious 
 of wearing a shabby black coat in the streets, no 
 wonder they like to wrap themselves in splendid 
 attire in the church. Human vanity, in the form 
 of clerical dandyism, will find its way into the 
 holiest sanctuary. Further than this, undistinguished 
 (however good, active, and zealous they may be), 
 poor, hardly able to keep their place in society, 
 can we wonder that they invest themselves in their 
 priestly dignity, and are tempted to console them- 
 selves for their inferiority in most respects by 
 assuming the belief in their sacerdotal superiority ? 
 
XL] UNENDOWED CHURCHES 283 
 
 It is certainly curious, as far as my narrow know- 
 ledge extends, that there does not seem one man 
 of real power or eminence among them. It is a 
 sect, as far as I can see, without leaders or heads. 
 How different from the Oxford Movement, with 
 Newman, Pusey, Manning, Oakeley, Faber, very 
 different men, but all with some pretensions to 
 distinction! Enough, perhaps too much, of this ; 
 but I should like to see the idea followed out. 
 Ever most truly yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 This letter was obviously not intended to do 
 more than touch upon one aspect of the question, 
 than suggest topics for consideration upon the 
 subject of the Dean of Westminster's article. My 
 father did, I know, regard with some anxiety the 
 multiplication of unendowed or scantily endowed 
 livings, but no one would be more sensible than 
 he was of the self-sacrificing zeal with which the 
 work of Christ's Church was carried on in the very 
 poorest and most forsaken parts of London by men 
 of highest character and education, who, in a worldly 
 sense, had everything to lose and nothing to gain, 
 and whose " Ritualism " in the midst of such sordid 
 surroundings was itself, to put it on no other 
 ground, a shadowing forth of things orderly and 
 beautiful, the introduction of some slight element 
 of poetry into lives sunk under the weight of 
 monotonous labour and the hard-fought struggle 
 for bare subsistence. 
 
 The next letter is to Sir Charles Lyell, whose 
 liberality and ardent love of justice always placed 
 
284 BISHOP COLENSO [CHAP. 
 
 him on the side of those whom he considered to 
 have been persecuted or unfairly treated for con- 
 science' sake, and who had besides a sincere 
 personal regard for Bishop Colenso : 
 
 QUEEN'S LODGE, ASCOT, June 2$rd. 
 MY DEAR LYELL, 
 
 I return the Bishop's paper. If I formed 
 my opinion of Colenso from such statements alone, 
 I should have but a low estimate of his knowledge 
 and powers of reasoning. They are, in my 
 judgment, puerile, hardly ingenious, hardly in- 
 genuous. He does not seem to me to understand 
 the bearing and importance of the subject. But 
 I do not judge Colenso on such grounds. I honour 
 him as a bold, honest, single-minded man, with a 
 deep and sincere love of truth. He is a man, too, 
 of remarkably acute intellect and indefatigable 
 industry. But he entered on these enquiries late 
 in life, struck boldly into one track, in which he 
 marches with fearless intrepidity, looking neither 
 to the right nor to the left. Moreover, he wants 
 wide and general knowledge. He rides his hobby 
 with consummate skill, but he rides it to death. 
 Everything must give way before his Jehovistic 
 and Elohistic theory. Now, I fully believe in that 
 to a certain limit, but not in its application to all 
 the writings of the Old Testament (as we have 
 them) ; for I am a worse sceptic than Colenso, 
 doubting whether we have them in unaltered, 
 unimpeachable integrity. I believe the whole of 
 Colenso's theory about the development of the 
 Jewish religion to be all pure conjecture and from 
 (to me) most unsatisfactory premises. As history, 
 much of the German criticism, as well as his, is 
 purely arbitrary : doubtful conclusions from more 
 doubtful facts. None of this, however, in the least 
 lowers my respect for Colenso, and my sense of 
 
xi.] COLENSO'S SERMONS 285 
 
 his ill usage by persons to whom his knowledge 
 is comparatively the widest, his ignorance much 
 more trustworthy than their knowledge. As for 
 his piety, I have read some and intend to read 
 more of his sermons. None of his adversaries, 
 of course, read them. If they did, it might put 
 even them to shame, especially as contrasted with 
 their cold, dry dogmatism. 
 
 Ever most truly yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 Our love to you both. When do you come and 
 see us ? After next week ? Is Colenso right in 
 trying to disfranchise the Dean ? It is difficult for 
 us here to judge, but I have my misgivings. 
 
 With one more interchange of letters between 
 my father and Stanley these extracts must close : 
 
 QUEEN'S HILL LODGE, ASCOT, 
 
 July 2$th, 1867. 
 MY DEAR BROTHER DEAN, 
 
 I have been reading with great amusement 
 and delight the " Council of Constantinople." * It 
 is as well done as well timed. I have only one 
 fear. If you remember, Sydney's doom of some 
 unfortunate wight I forget who and on what 
 occasion -was to be hunted to death by wild 
 curates. Leave London before September, or you 
 will be in danger of being hunted to death by 
 wild bishops. I hear also that you have delivered 
 yourself on the question of submitting all ecclesias- 
 tical matters to Convocation as well as Parliament. 
 In the Guardian ? How singular it is that the 
 meeting of Convocation for business should have 
 been sanctioned by the wise and far-seeing George 
 Lewis. I trust that he is not suffering therefor 
 
 * Edinburgh Review, cxxvi. 95. 
 
286 SIR GEORGE LEWIS [CHAP. 
 
 that doom inflicted upon him by the malicious 
 Sydney (Sydney Smith again). You know that 
 one of that worthy's fancies was imagining 
 " eternal " punishments for his friends. George 
 was condemned to an eternity of tapping his 
 boot with his cane ; no book whatever to be 
 permitted. His prayer was, " Oh for one little 
 treatise on the verbs in -/u ! " his drop of cold 
 water. I fear that you have been guilty of paying 
 some honour or in some place respect to those two 
 unbaptized misbelievers the Sultan and the Viceroy. 
 I, more orthodox and much more afraid of crowds, 
 declined an invitation to the City reception. I 
 wonder what they say in the East, the Mussulman 
 Puseys and Denisons, the High Church Ulemas and 
 Imaums, to this familiar intercourse with the uncir- 
 cumcised ? I hope that the City did not betray the 
 Sultan into unholy disguised ham, that he did not 
 mistake champagne for sherbet, and did not at the 
 East Indian ball imagine himself among the houris. 
 I have been looking into the charge of good Sarum. 
 Is it true, as he asserts, that the late Bishop Cotton 
 rested all his hope of success in India on the strict 
 maintenance of the Athanasian Creed ? If so, I 
 have much mistaken my man. But I think it 
 much more likely that Sarum should have mistaken 
 Calcutta. I trust that we may have some hope 
 of seeing you in the interval of your return from 
 vestment enquiries and your summer travels. With 
 this wish, and with our very kindest regards to 
 Lady Augusta, 
 
 Ever most truly yours, 
 
 H. H. MILMAN. 
 
 DEANERY, WESTMINSTER, 
 
 July 2%th, 1867. 
 
 MY DEAR DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S, 
 
 I am very glad that you approve of the 
 " Council of Constantinople." In writing it, I was 
 
XL] THE RITUAL COMMISSION 287 
 
 able to kill several birds with one stone, to dis- 
 charge a promise of long standing to an old and 
 valued friend of ours and of the de Broglies, to 
 indulge my own curiosity for old ecclesiastical 
 romances, and to fire another shot at the Pan- 
 Anglican Synod. How very gingerly the usual 
 writers on Church History have dealt with Gregory 
 Nazianzen ! The Ritual Commission will keep me 
 here, I suspect, till the end of the session. It is not 
 betraying any of our secrets to say that I feel exactly 
 as they describe in the House of Commons under 
 D'Israeli that the ground is mined under our feet 
 in every direction, one can never be sufficiently on 
 one's guard against the most astonishing surprises. 
 And all this is the more curious because it is perfectly 
 unnecessary. The conclusion at which our necro- 
 mancer is aiming might be attained quite as easily 
 by direct and simple courses. But he seems to me, 
 besides all his other marvellous qualities, to have a 
 perfect passion for conspiracy, and at the same time 
 a perfect unconsciousness that any one is suspecting 
 and watching him. With this one exception (and 
 here it is only the means that are disagreeable ; 
 his ends hitherto have been right enough) things 
 go on much more smoothly than I anticipated, and 
 I almost expect that on the vestment question we 
 shall be nearly unanimous. The ignorance of the 
 witnesses was quite surprising. Poor Cotton little 
 thought how much use would be made of an unwary 
 admission whilst urging the abandonment of the 
 Athanasian clauses ; that after all it was not so 
 [unbearable], because there was something in the 
 Indian subtleties which somewhat resembled the 
 metaphysics of the fifth century. Liddon, who of 
 course is W. K. Sarum's oracle, has already made 
 the most of the passage in a sermon. I was led 
 into a series of letters in the Guardian of the last 
 three weeks on Convocation because I thought they 
 
288 THE REVIVAL OF CONVOCATION [CHAP. 
 
 were more likely to be read there than anywhere 
 else by those who most needed them. It seems to 
 me by far the most dangerous frenzy which has got 
 hold of the clergy of late years. The Sultan never 
 came near the Abbey. Indeed, he saw wonderfully 
 little of any interest, and I have not been able to 
 hear of any authentic sayings. 
 
 As may be gathered from the foregoing letters, 
 and as indeed was well known, for my father made 
 no secret of the matter, he entertained no high 
 opinion of the wisdom or justice of the proceedings 
 in Convocation, the meetings of which he seldom 
 attended. The revival of Convocation for purposes 
 of business, or perhaps it would be more correct to 
 say of debate, fell indeed upon a trying time, when 
 the volume of " Essays and Reviews " and the 
 writings of Bishop Colenso had struck a large party 
 of the clergy with a sort of panic little calculated to 
 promote calm judgment, and opinions which now 
 would pass with little comment or be temperately 
 discussed were hotly assailed as subversive of reli- 
 gion in the familiar language of controversy. From 
 controversy, especially from controversies so con- 
 ducted, my father stood aloof, and he was perhaps 
 all the more conspicuous by his absence. No 
 good could, he thought, come of them ; and no 
 good, I believe it would now be generally allowed, 
 did come of them. 
 
 The first step, however, towards one really prac- 
 tical bit of reform, the discontinuance of what were 
 popularly called the " State Services," was due to 
 
XL] THE STATE SERVICES 289 
 
 his initiative in Convocation. These services com- 
 memorated, as will be remembered, and in language 
 much too high-flown for modern ideas, the martyrdom 
 of Charles I., the restoration of Charles II., and the 
 discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, whereby as a 
 specimen of the style our Church and State " were 
 miraculously preserved from the secret contrivance 
 and hellish malice of Popish conspirators." * My 
 father had been requested by many of those who 
 regarded such commemorations as out of date to 
 take up the matter, as it was thought that a proposal 
 for their abolition would meet with less opposition if 
 made by one who was so independent and uncon- 
 nected with any particular party or set of opinions. 
 On May 8th, 1857, accordingly, the Dean of St. 
 Paul's, in an interesting speech, moved 
 
 That a petition be presented to the Upper House, 
 praying their Lordships to consider the propriety of 
 presenting an Address to her Majesty for the dis- 
 continuance of the order requiring the use of the 
 occasional services for November 5th, January 3Oth, 
 and May 29th. 
 
 There was a long discussion upon the motion, to 
 which various amendments were proposed, by one 
 of which it was referred to a committee of the 
 House 
 
 to examine by what authority the separate services 
 for the above three days were drawn up and are 
 
 * Old students of Christ Church will recall the unctuousness with 
 which these and similar sentences fell from the lips of an estimable 
 but worldly Canon. 
 
 19 
 
290 HON. PROFESSOR AT ROYAL ACADEMY [CHAP. 
 
 appointed to be read, and the legal force which they 
 severally possess. 
 
 Upon the report of this committee and the Dean's 
 further notice of motion thereupon expressing the 
 undesirability of continuing the observance of these 
 days it is unnecessary to dwell, as the question had 
 in the meantime been taken up in Parliament ; and 
 eventually, on addresses from both Houses, presented 
 to the Crown in July, 1858, the services were, by a 
 royal warrant of January i7th, 1859, ordered to be 
 discontinued. The address in the House of Lords 
 was, it may be mentioned, moved by Lord Stanhope, 
 a personal friend of my father's; and there is, I believe, 
 no doubt that my father's initiative had placed the 
 subject in its true light, and had facilitated its settle- 
 ment without any of the angry feeling which might 
 have otherwise been engendered. 
 
 My father's love of art, and I think I may add of 
 artists Sir Charles Eastlake, Mr. Richmond, Mr. 
 Westmacott, and others were included in his circle 
 of intimate friends has already been alluded to. 
 In 1857 he served upon the Royal Commission 
 appointed to consider the propriety of transferring 
 the National Gallery to another site. In 1860, a 
 compliment which he highly appreciated, he was 
 appointed Honorary Professor of Ancient Literature 
 to the Royal Academy, in succession to Lord 
 Macaulay. In 1865, too, he was elected Cor- 
 respondent de 1' Academic des Sciences Morales et 
 Politiques de 1'Institut Imperial de France, his 
 
XL] TRUSTEE OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM 291 
 
 appointment being notified to him by the Secretary 
 of the Academy, M. Mignet. In the administra- 
 tion of the British Museum, of which he was one 
 of the trustees, he took an active interest, and was 
 a regular attendant at the meetings of the Board, 
 where his assistance was, I have reason to believe, 
 much valued. Moving amid a circle of attached 
 friends, occupied with congenial pursuits under the 
 shadow of St. Paul's, the years passed only too 
 rapidly, and, in spite of occasional attacks of illness, 
 with no diminution of mental vigour. 
 
292 LOVE OF LITERATURE [CHAP. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Annals of St. Paul's "Characterized by Rev. William Scott- 
 Extracts from Biographical Interest of Illness and Death 
 Funeral at St. Paul's Tributes of Respect and Affection- 
 Monument in St. Paul's Inscription. 
 
 AFTER the production of a work so compre- 
 hensive, so laborious, so exhausting, as the 
 4< History of Latin Christianity," after the publica- 
 tion of the revised edition of the " History of the 
 Jews," it might have been imagined that Dean 
 Milman would at length have consented to repose. 
 But mental inactivity with him was impossible, 
 Approaching to the age of fourscore years, his love 
 of literature was as eager and insatiable as ever. 
 Having had to read, as he said in one of his letters 
 to Mr. Prescott, already quoted, so much bad Latin 
 and Greek in the course of his life, nothing gave 
 him greater pleasure than to refresh himself by 
 recurring to the great classic writers. But his tastes 
 were catholic, and probably there have been few 
 who have had a more universal knowledge of all 
 that is best it might even be added of all that is 
 worst in modern literature. At one time, earlier 
 in life, he had had serious and painful rheumatic 
 
xii.] "ANNALS OF ST. PAUL'S" 293 
 
 affections in the eyes, which had been; the cause 
 of considerable anxiety. But these became less 
 frequent as time went on, and in spite of the strain 
 put upon his eyes his sight held out wonderfully. 
 He never had recourse to artificial help, and to the 
 end of his life he read even small print with little 
 effort by candle as well as by daylight. 
 
 But while " grazing," as he would have said, at 
 will over the Elysian fields of literature, whilst 
 throwing off an occasional article for, if the personi- 
 fication be admissible, his old friend the Quarterly 
 Review, his latest thoughts, his last labour, and it 
 was a labour of love, were engaged upon the history 
 of the Cathedral over which he presided, and for 
 which his admiration and affection seemed to increase 
 the better he knew it, the longer he had been pos- 
 sessed by the charm of its harmonious proportions. 
 The " Annals of St. Paul's " were passing through 
 the press, and the revision of the greater portion of 
 this work had been nearly completed, when the 
 hand of the author was stayed by an illness which 
 terminated fatally on September 24th, 1868. The 
 "Annals of St. Paul's" and the "Memorials of 
 Westminster Abbey " run in parallel courses, and 
 it was a happy coincidence that the histories of 
 the two churches, so distinct, yet each requiring 
 to be supplemented by that of the other in order 
 to convey a full impression of the varying phases 
 of religious and ecclesiastical life in the metropolis, 
 should have fallen to pens so accomplished as those 
 of the two contemporary Deans. 
 
294 THE "ANNALS" REVIEWED [CHAP. 
 
 Even the lightest pages * of a work whose 
 composition occupied the last few months of Dean 
 Milman's life acquire a pathetic interest now that 
 their author is taken from us, and they come to us 
 as the voice of the dead. Such a work is necessarily 
 sacred from criticism ; we turn to it, indeed, rather 
 with a personal than a merely literary interest, and 
 the story of the great Minster fades for the moment 
 before the old man's recollections of the silver 
 utterances of Porteus, of that hour of his boyhood 
 when, in the Cathedral, which was destined to be 
 his own, he heard, or fancied he heard, the low 
 wail of the sailors who bore and encircled the 
 remains of Nelson, or of the yet more solemn 
 moment when his own voice, answered by the 
 responses of thousands, "the sad combined prayer 
 as it were of the whole nation," uttered words of 
 hope and immortality over the grave of Wellington. 
 Other traces, however, of old age than these pleasant 
 memories there are none. The book has all the 
 freshness and vigour of the earlier works which won 
 Dean Milman his fame. There are some passages, 
 indeed, in which the genius of the great historian 
 seems unable to confine itself within the narrow 
 limits of his theme, and in such broad and philo- 
 sophic reflections as those on the reformers of 
 the sixteenth or the preachers of the seventeenth 
 century to bequeath us stray pages of that history 
 of Teutonic Christianity to which his greatest work 
 points the way. But with a few brilliant exceptions 
 such as these, what is most wonderful in the " Annals 
 of St. Paul's " is the power with which the Dean has 
 
 * This appreciation of the "Annals" is quoted from an article in the 
 Saturday Review of January 2nd, 1869, which, at this distance of 
 time, it will be no breach of confidence to say was, I have reason 
 to know, written by the Rev. William Scott, formerly editor of the 
 Christian Remembrancer, and well known as a keen and accom- 
 plished critic. I have preferred, as before, to educe other than my 
 own judgment. 
 
xii.] UNITY OF THE EFFECT 295 
 
 grasped the exact subject that he had chosen, and 
 the artistic fidelity with which he has grouped men 
 and events around it. From beginning to end it 
 is what it purports to be, a history of the Cathedral ; 
 whatever their own inherent interest, bishop and 
 citizen and Lollard are brought before us strictly 
 in their relation to St. Paul's. To produce this 
 unity of effect without sacrificing the interest of 
 the story is of course the mark of a really great 
 writer, but even to a great writer such a task 
 would be impossible if the subject were not itself 
 a great one. Dean Milman has grasped the great- 
 ness of a cathedral because he, almost alone among 
 modern deans, seemed to have understood what 
 a cathedral was and is. The book is such wonder- 
 fully pleasant reading that one may miss noticing 
 the exquisite art with which every element of 
 mediaeval society is brought within the precinct 
 or the choir : bishop, canon, the choir-boys with 
 their mysteries, mayor and aldermen in their gowns 
 of scarlet or green, the burghers gathering in 
 folk-mote before the bell-tower, the preacher at the 
 cross, the Lollard at the stake ; John of Gaunt now 
 threatening Courtenay in the Lady Chapel, now 
 resting quietly in the one royal tomb of St. Paul's, 
 with his helmet and spear and shield hanging above 
 him; merchants making their change in its nave, 
 Latimer rating the Convocation from its pulpit, the 
 fat buck brought in priestly procession with blowing 
 of horns to the west door, all this varied and 
 picturesque life of the past is not merely painted in 
 antiquarian fashion, but swept into the general 
 current of his history by the Dean's fine sense of 
 historical continuity. A quiet phrase such as "my 
 predecessor Dean Radulf de Diceto" expresses the 
 whole tone of these annals, but the tone is heightened 
 in its effect by the fact that never was a writer more 
 modern, more alive to the progress and sentiment 
 
296 CONTINUITY OF INTEREST [CHAP. 
 
 of our own day. There is no trace in these pages 
 of the ignorance, either archaeological or contemp- 
 tuous, which alike divorces the present from the 
 past. To Dean Milman the services which he 
 organized beneath the dome seemed only the 
 natural completion of the work which Bishop 
 Maurice had begun amid the desolation of the 
 Conquest. Between the two ran a stream of 
 continuous life, ecclesiastical, literary, national, 
 individual, varying in interest and character with 
 the ages through which it passed, but passing 
 through the ages without a break. 
 
 Illustration in confirmation of these observations 
 might be taken from almost any page of the 
 " Annals." Dean Milman's character of his pre- 
 decessor Tillotson, his reflections upon Bishop 
 Lowth's "Lectures on Hebrew Poetry,'' his eloquent 
 appreciation of the " Book of Common Prayer," 
 have been quoted in Dean Stanley's essay, more 
 than once referred to. To these I will add presently 
 a portion of the sketch of another of his predecessors 
 in the Deanery, Dr. John Donne. Before proceed- 
 ing, however, to this the last excerpt that I can 
 allow myself, it may be interesting, with respect to 
 the material fabric of the Cathedral, to give my 
 father's characterization of the old building, of old 
 St. Paul's, which, even before the Great Fire, in 
 which it finally disappeared, had fallen into a state 
 of great dilapidation, and was foredoomed to destruc- 
 tion. Fire indeed would seem from its earliest 
 history to have been the predestined enemy of the 
 Cathedral of St. Paul. In the year 1087, the 
 
xii.] FIRES AT ST. PAUL'S 297 
 
 Cathedral, the church founded by Bishop Mellitus 
 of which no record survives, was entirely consumed 
 by a fire which swept over the whole city of 
 London, or was so damaged as to be unfit for 
 worship. In another great fire (A.D. 1136), which 
 burnt from London Bridge to St. Clement Danes, 
 the new Cathedral, designed by Bishop Maurice, 
 and completed by his successor, Richard de 
 Belmeis, was much damaged, though to what 
 extent cannot be determined. And again passing 
 over several centuries : 
 
 In the year 1561 a terrific storm burst over 
 London. The church of St. Martin, Ludgate 
 Hill, was struck by lightning: huge stones came 
 toppling down on the roof and on the pavement. 
 The alarm was not over when the lightning was 
 seen to flash into an aperture in the steeple of the 
 Cathedral. The steeple was of wood covered with 
 lead. The fire burned downwards for four hours 
 with irresistible force, the bells melted, the timber 
 blazed, the stones crumbled and fell. The lead 
 flowed down in sheets of flame, threatening but 
 happily not damaging the organ. The fire ran 
 along the roof east, west, north, and south, which 
 fell in, filling the whole church with a mass of 
 ruin. At a period of such fierce religious excite- 
 ment, in the clash and collision of opinions and 
 passions, both parties saw in this event a manifest 
 sign from heaven, a sign of the Divine wrath. 
 Where could God, the avenger of sin, reveal Him- 
 self so awfully, so undesirably, so visibly, as in 
 thus striking the great church of the metropolis, 
 with that which all religions, which heathen poetry 
 and Biblical imagery had declared to be the chosen 
 bolt of destruction from the right hand of the 
 
298 RESTORATION A NATIONAL WORK [CHAP. 
 
 Almighty ? Each party at once thrust itself into 
 the secret counsels of the inscrutable Godhead, 
 and read, without doubt or hesitation, the signifi- 
 cance of this, as all agreed, supernatural event, the 
 Protestants as condemnatory of the old superstitious 
 slavery to the usurping Bishop of Rome; the 
 Papalists, of the rebellion against the Vicar of 
 Christ, the sacrilegious profanation of the sanctuary.* 
 
 The demolition of St. Paul's had, indeed, not 
 been so complete as was apprehended at first ; but 
 its destruction was held to be a national calamity, 
 its restoration a national work. This proceeded 
 so rapidly that on November ist, 1566 
 
 the Lord Mayor and aldermen, and all the crafts 
 of London, in their liveries, went to the Cathedral 
 with a vast retinue (eighty men carrying torches) : 
 the Lord Mayor tarried the sermon, which lasted 
 into the night (a November night), and returned 
 home by the light of the torches. 
 
 The dilapidated condition of the building in the 
 the reign of James I., its restoration under the 
 auspices of Laud, the Bishop of London, by Inigo 
 Jones, its slow decay and ruin under the Common- 
 wealth, must be passed over. On the recommence- 
 ment of the services after the Restoration, it was 
 seen that the whole fabric was insecure, if not 
 dangerous. Sir Christopher Wren, then Mr. Wren, 
 was consulted, and upon his report, which was by 
 no means favourable, there was a long and obstinate 
 debate. No resolution had been taken, and the 
 
 * "Annals," p. 277. 
 
XIL] ENGLISH CATHEDRALS CHARACTERIZED 299 
 
 debate was still going on, when it was determined 
 by that terrible arbiter, the Fire of London. 
 
 Was, then, the Fire of London, if so remorseless, 
 so fatal a destroyer ? Are we to mourn with 
 unmitigated sorrow over the demolition of old 
 St. Paul's ? Of England's more glorious cathedrals, 
 it seems to me, I confess, none could be so well 
 spared. Excepting its vast size, it had nothing 
 to distinguish it. It must have been a gloomy, 
 ponderous pile. The nave and choir were of 
 different ages (that was common), but ill formed, 
 ill adjusted together, with disproportioned aisles 
 and transepts, and a low, square, somewhat clumsy 
 tower, out of which once rose a spire, tall indeed, but 
 merely built of woodwork and lead. London would, 
 at best, have been forced to bow its head before 
 the cathedrals of many of our provincial cities. 
 Old St. Paul's had nothing of the prodigal 
 magnificence, the harmonious variety, of Lincoln, 
 the stately majesty of York, the solemn grandeur 
 of Canterbury, the perfect sky-aspiring unity of 
 Salisbury. It had not even one of the great 
 conceptions which are the pride and boast of some 
 of our other churches : neither the massy strength 
 of Durham, " looking eternity " with its marvellous 
 Galilee, nor the tower of Gloucester, nor the lantern 
 of Ely, nor the rich picturesqueness of Beverley, 
 nor the deep receding, highly decorated arches of 
 the west front of Peterborough. And of ancient 
 St. Paul's the bastard Gothic of Inigo Jones had 
 cased the venerable, if decayed, walls throughout 
 with a flat, incongruous facing. The unrivalled 
 beauty of Inigo Jones's portico was the deformity 
 of the church.* 
 
 This tempered regret for the loss of the old 
 
 * " Annals," p. 388. 
 
300 NEW ST. PAUL'S [CHAP. 
 
 building, with all its historical associations, was no 
 doubt still further influenced by the intense ad- 
 miration which the historian of St. Paul's entertained 
 for the new building by which it was replaced. 
 
 What building in its exterior form does not bow 
 its head before St. Paul's ? What eye, trained to 
 all that is perfect in architecture, does not recognize 
 the inimitable beauty of its lines, the majestic yet 
 airy swelling of its dome, its rich, harmonious 
 ornamentation ? . . . Mr. Fergusson, though sternly 
 impartial and impatient of some defects which strike 
 his fastidious judgment, writes : "It will hardly be 
 disputed that the exterior of St. Paul's surpasses 
 in beauty of design all the other examples of the 
 same class which have yet been carried out ; and 
 whether seen from a distance or near, it is, externally 
 at least, one of the grandest and most beautiful 
 churches of Europe." 
 
 These criticisims are, it will be observed, limited 
 to the exterior. For the interior Wren's designs 
 were not only not carried out, but were in every 
 way thwarted and controlled. In spite of every- 
 thing, however, and undisturbed by the intervening 
 political revolution, the construction proceeded 
 rapidly, and only twenty-two years elapsed between 
 the laying of the first stone to the opening of the 
 choir for divine service on December 2nd, ,,1697, 
 appointed as a thanksgiving day for the Peace of 
 Ryswick. It was almost boasted that as the new 
 Cathedral was built by one architect, so it rose 
 during the episcopate of one bishop, Henry 
 Compton. From that time the services went on 
 
xii.] SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN 30 l 
 
 uninterruptedly ; but the exterior of the Cathedral 
 was not adjudged to be complete till 1710, in which 
 year Sir Christopher Wren, by the hand of his 
 son, laid the last and highest stone of the lantern 
 of the cupola. 
 
 If ever there was an occasion on which the 
 heart of man might swell with pardonable pride, 
 it was the heart of Wren at that hour, whether 
 he himself was actually at that giddy summit of 
 the building, or watched his son's act from below. 
 The architect looked down, or looked up and 
 around, on this great and matchless building, the 
 creation of his own mind, the achievement of his 
 sole care and skill the whole building stretching 
 out in all its perfect harmony, with its fine 
 horizontal lines, various yet perfect in unison, its 
 towers, its unrivalled dome, its crowning lantern 
 and cross. All London had poured forth for the 
 spectacle, which had been publicly announced, and 
 were looking up in wonder to the old man, or his 
 son if not the old man himself, who was, on that 
 wondrous height, setting the seal, as it were, to 
 his august labours. If in that wide circle (let us, 
 however doubtful, lift the old man to that proud 
 eminence) which his eye might embrace there were 
 various objects for -regret and disappointment ; if, 
 instead of beholding the spacious streets of the 
 city, each converging to its centre, London had 
 sprung up and spread in irregular labyrinths of 
 close, dark, intricate lanes ; if even his own 
 Cathedral was crowded upon and jostled by mean 
 and unworthy buildings ; yet, on the other hand, 
 he might survey, not the Cathedral only, but a 
 number of stately churches which had risen at his 
 command, and taken form and dignity from his 
 genius and skill : on one side the picturesque steeple 
 
302 VIEW FROM THE GOLDEN GALLERY [CHAP. 
 
 of St. Mary-le-Bow, on the other the exquisite 
 tower of St. Bride's, with all its graceful, gradually 
 diminishing circles, not yet shorn of its full and 
 finely proportioned height ; beyond and on all sides, 
 if more dimly seen, yet discernible by his partial 
 eyesight (he might even penetrate to the inimitable 
 interior of St. Stephen's, Wallbrook), church after 
 church as far as St. Dunstan's-in-the-East ; perhaps 
 Greenwich may have been vaguely made out in 
 the remote distance. And all this one man had 
 been permitted to conceive and execute a man 
 not originally destined or educated for an architect, 
 but compelled, as it were, by the public necessities 
 to assume the office, and so to fulfil it as to stand 
 on a level with the most consummate masters of 
 the art in Europe, and to take his stand on an 
 eminence which his English successors almost 
 despair of attaining.* 
 
 To none of his predecessors did my father seem 
 more attracted than to Donne, "the only Dean of 
 St. Paul's, till a very late successor, who was guilty 
 of poetry " ; "whose fame had the good fortune of 
 being recorded in one of those charming, popular 
 biographies of Isaak Walton which will last as long 
 as English literature lasts " ; whose life, a singular 
 combination of romance and of poetry at its begin- 
 ning, of grave and solemn wisdom and holiness at 
 its close, deserved to be related by a writer whose 
 words will not die away from the religious life of 
 England. For the salient events of this life, for 
 an appreciation of Donne's poetry, reference may 
 be made to the " Annals," and we must pass to 
 
 * "Annals," pp. 432-3- 
 
xii.] DEAN JOHN DONNE 303 
 
 that which more entirely connects itself with St. 
 Paul's, the characterization of Donne preaching, for 
 Donne in his own day was more famous as a 
 preacher than a poet. 
 
 It is difficult for a Dean of our rapid and restless 
 days to imagine, when he surveys the massy folios of 
 Donne's "Sermons" each sermon spreads out over 
 many pages a vast congregation in the Cathedral 
 or at Paul's Cross, listening, not only with patience, 
 but with absorbed interest, with unflagging attention, 
 even with delight and rapture, to those interminable 
 disquisitions, to us teeming with laboured obscurity, 
 false and misplaced wit, fatiguing antitheses. How- 
 ever set off, as by all accounts they were, by a most 
 graceful and impressive delivery, it is astonishing to 
 us that he should have held a London congregation 
 enthralled, unwearied, unsatiated. Yet there can 
 be no doubt that this was the case. And this 
 congregation consisted both of the people down 
 to the lowest, and of the most noble, wise, accom- 
 plished of that highly intellectual age. They sat, 
 even stood, undisturbed, except by their own 
 murmurs of admiration, sometimes by hardly sup- 
 pressed tears. One of Donne's poetical panegyrists 
 writes : 
 
 And never were we wearied till we saw 
 
 The hour, and but an hour, to end did draw. 
 
 It must have been quick work to have dispatched 
 one of the sermons of Donne, as printed, in an 
 hour. . . . Coleridge perhaps alone of modern 
 readers delighted to wander in the wide and in- 
 tricate mazes of Donne's theology. . . . Yet not 
 carrying my admiration quite so far, any one who 
 will give himself to the work will find in Donne 
 a wonderful solidity of thought, a sustained majesty, 
 an earnest force, almost unrivalled, with passages 
 
304 DONNE AS A PREACHER [CHAP 
 
 occasionally of splendid, almost impassioned de- 
 votion. The learning of Donne is in general 
 singularly apposite, and rarely obtrusive or ostenta- 
 tious ; the theology masculine, but not scholastically 
 logical. Even what in those days was esteemed 
 wit, which ran wild in his poetry and suffocated 
 the graceful and passionate thoughts, is in his prose 
 under control and discipline. 
 
 Donne's calm and modest piety had long shrunk 
 from the responsibility of entering into Holy Orders. 
 He was almost compelled to be an ecclesiastic ; and 
 greater force was necessary to induce him to accept 
 the dignity and undertake the arduous and eminent 
 office of Dean of St. Paul's. As Dean of St. Paul's 
 (A.D. 1621-31) he must have done much to main- 
 tain the high position and popularity of the Cathedral, 
 which was ominously threatened by advancing Puri- 
 tanism. Such a preacher, followed by such multitudes, 
 must have overawed, if he did not win, the hearts 
 of those who would reduce the worship of the 
 Church of England to the humblest edifice, the 
 scantiest ritual. It is perhaps well that, of the 
 scattered and calcined monuments dug out of 
 the ruins of the Great Fire, the older clergy are 
 represented by the yet recognizable figure of Dean 
 Donne in his shroud.* 
 
 It is difficult to tear oneself away from the 
 " Annals of St. Paul's." They have indeed a 
 peculiar interest for biographical purposes, occu- 
 pying as they did so much of my father's latest 
 thoughts, and illustrating as they do the many- 
 sidedness of his interests and tastes. For this 
 reason I have allowed myself to quote from them 
 more largely than I should otherwise have done, 
 
 * "Annals," pp. 323-30. 
 
xii.] THE WELLINGTON MONUMENT 35 
 
 and the more because the work is out of print, 
 and now not easily obtainable. 
 
 One word may be added upon a subject in 
 connection with the fabric upon which a good 
 deal of misconception afterwards prevailed the 
 site in the Consistory Court for the monument of 
 the Duke of Wellington. The selection of this 
 site, which was no doubt advocated by Dean 
 Milman, but for which he was by no means alone 
 responsible, was, I believe, in the first instance 
 accepted or acquiesced in by all the parties who 
 were principally concerned, including Mr. Stevens 
 himself; and it was not until after the decision 
 had been taken and the preparation of the chapel 
 had made considerable progress that questions were 
 raised as to the propriety of banishing so fine a 
 work of art to a side chapel, where it could be 
 but imperfectly seen. Dean Milman's reasons for 
 advocating the appropriation of the Consistory 
 Court for the reception of the Wellington monu- 
 ment, though they have since been overruled, were 
 not without weight, and were as follows : As the 
 custodian of a building of sublime proportions, 
 distinguished for the perfect harmony of all its 
 parts, he believed that it would be wrong to destroy 
 the symmetry of the nave arcades by introducing 
 beneath one of the arches a vast monumental 
 structure, however indisputable the merits of such 
 structure might be and no one had a higher 
 appreciation of the design for the Wellington 
 monument than himself. He felt too a scruple., 
 
 20 
 
306 WESTMINSTER ABBEY A WARNING [CHAP. 
 
 taking into consideration the uses for which the 
 Cathedral might at any time be required as the 
 proper place for all solemn acts of national worship, 
 and the ever-increasing demands made for the ac- 
 commodation of large congregations, at the idea of 
 encroaching upon the space which Sir Christopher 
 Wren had left free, by the erection of permanent 
 structures upon any part of it. He feared also 
 that, if one archway of the nave were given up 
 to a Wellington monument the mutilated windows 
 and archways in Westminster Abbey might serve 
 as a warning it would hereafter be more difficult 
 to defend the remaining similar spaces from re- 
 peated and less-warranted intrusions. On these 
 grounds, and not from any failure to estimate the 
 beauty of the designed monument, as a monument, 
 my father's opinion rested. And is it quite clear 
 even now that he was wrong at least if monu- 
 ments should be subordinate to cathedrals, not 
 cathedrals to monuments ? Does not the blocking 
 of one great arch of the nave, and one only, break 
 the continuity of the perspective, and produce a 
 slightly lop-sided effect, inviting a corresponding 
 balance on the other side, the introduction of 
 other, and yet again other, monuments ? 
 
 As the single infirmity with which my father 
 was afflicted a partial deafness had rendered him 
 less capable of enjoying to its full extent the 
 social intercourse in which he so much delighted, 
 he had year after year as summer came round 
 
XIL] ILLNESS AND DEATH 307 
 
 looked forward with ever-increasing eagerness to 
 the month, which, since his travelling days were 
 over, he was wont to spend in some quiet country 
 retreat. For the summer of 1868 he had taken, not 
 for the first time, a house, Queen's Lodge, in the 
 neighbourhood of Ascot, and there, in the society 
 of his own family, with from time to time a few 
 intimate friends gathered about him, he was passing 
 days to himself and to all about him of pure and 
 simple enjoyment. His mornings were occupied in 
 the revision of the " Annals," his evenings by long 
 pleasant drives through the forest and open country 
 about Bagshot and Cobham. The summer had 
 been unusually hot ; and, always a somewhat 
 impetuous corrector of the press, my father had 
 been a little worried by the difficulty of verifying 
 dates or detecting printer's slips at a distance from 
 his library ; but though afterwards it seemed, from 
 the recollection of a few casual words which had 
 fallen from him, as if he might himself have had 
 some premonition, there was no outward sign of a 
 coming change, no occasion for anxiety. In the 
 full exercise of all his brilliant mental activities, in 
 the midst of the peaceful country sights and sounds 
 to which he was so sensitively alive, actually 
 engaged in conversation with friends for whom he 
 had the highest regard, the summons came. On 
 the 2Qth day of August he was attacked by an 
 illness, a paralytic stroke, which on the 24th of the 
 following month had its fatal termination. 
 
 Scholar, poet, critic, historian, but above and 
 
308 FUNERAL AT ST. PAUL'S [CHAP. 
 
 beyond all these a perfect Christian gentleman, 
 the death of Dean Milman left a void which could 
 not easily be filled. The concurrent testimony of 
 all those who were numbered among his friends or 
 bound by closer ties of nearer love bore witness to 
 the charm and beauty, the kindliness and simplicity, 
 of his character and disposition. He was absolutely 
 guileless, a man of most transparent honesty, of 
 undaunted moral courage. Bishop Stanley, of 
 Norwich, used to say that " Milman, of all men 
 whom he had known, had the greatest moral 
 courage." 
 
 Seldom has any one been borne to the grave 
 amid a more universal tribute of respect and affection 
 from all those of whatever party or creed whose 
 good opinion might seem of most account. He 
 was carried to his rest with simple pomp, and was 
 laid with singular propriety in the crypt of the 
 grand Cathedral over which as Dean he had so 
 many years presided, with the interests of which 
 he had so entirely identified himself, and the history 
 of which had been his latest labour. 
 
 Much more might be said, but filial piety restrains, 
 and I cannot do more than make a passing allusion 
 to the expressions of affection and respect which 
 were received from a wide circle of my father's 
 friends, interesting though many of them might be, 
 even were it only as reminiscences of the writers, 
 of a generation, among whom my father moved 
 a familiar figure, and of which there can now be 
 scarce a surviving representative. 
 
XIL] THE ATTRACTION OF HIS CHARACTER 309 
 
 A writer in the Pall Mall Gazette of the day, 
 who evidently knew him well, said that there was 
 
 a charm about his society which it is difficult to 
 analyze or describe. There was something very 
 venerable in his age, and his wonderful store of 
 knowledge on all subjects ; but this was relieved in 
 the most delightful manner by the fire, the eager- 
 ness, the universal interest in whatever was going 
 on, which gave a character to his conversation ; and 
 these characteristics again were blended in a very 
 touching way with the most affectionate gentleness 
 and beauty of demeanour. 
 
 It is only by his own ideas, expressed in his own 
 words [writes another *] that such a mind as that of 
 the Dean can be adequately given. . . . Where 
 shall we now find a man so learned, so wise, so full 
 of the best knowledge, so able and willing to use it 
 for the service of man in whom, indeed, 
 
 Old experience did attain 
 
 To something of prophetic strain ? 
 
 The feeling which he inspired in his family and 
 those privileged to enjoy his friendship showed how 
 deep was the affectionate nature of the man in that 
 portion of his life with which the outside world has 
 no right to intermeddle ; and his beautiful hymns, 
 written long before hymns had become the fashion, 
 and three of which at least are now part of the 
 devotional expression of the nation, are a measure 
 of that true piety which no one possessed in a 
 higher degree. ... As he began, so he ended, the 
 value of the spirit beyond the letter ; of the 
 substance above the form ; the truth under divers 
 forms of error, the error mingled with what we 
 take to be the truth. " Orthodoxy of creed," he 
 
 * Eraser's Magazine, January, 1869. 
 
310 DEAN MILMAN AS A WRITER [CHAP. 
 
 has been heard to say, " has that ensured the 
 orthodoxy of the Christian heart which breathes 
 only Christian love ? I am one of those that 
 believe the torturing our fellow-creatures a worse 
 heresy against the Gospel than the most perverse 
 of those opinions of the miserable victims led by 
 thousands to the stake." 
 
 Of Dean Milman as a writer no general estimate 
 can be attempted here or by me. His historical 
 works at least have taken, and, so far as can be 
 judged, are likely to maintain, a permanent place 
 among the standard works of English literature. 
 For the purposes of a biographical sketch so slight 
 as the present, it seemed of more value to give pro- 
 minence to the personality of the writer ; to show, 
 however inefficiently, the charm that he exercised 
 upon those with whom duty and friendship brought 
 him into relation how, by this element of personal 
 attraction, the influence of his writings found the 
 readier acceptance. 
 
 " Why do they not attack me that is, my heresy?" 
 he has been heard to say, when Convocation or 
 Congresses or Synods have been worrying some 
 helpless parson. But it was known that it would 
 not answer to assault one so extremely well able to 
 defend himself, and to set forth all reasons, historical, 
 metaphysical, and moral, for the faith that was in 
 him one so little swayed by passion or prejudice, 
 so correct, so learned, so patient, and so wise.* 
 
 I cannot deny myself the pleasure of concluding, 
 in the words of a writer, still happily living, still 
 
 * Fraser^s Magazine, ubi supra. 
 
xii.] TRIBUTE BY MR. LECKY 311 
 
 exercising a beneficent influence in literature 
 Mr. Lecky. My father had been among the first 
 to recognize the great merits of Mr. Lecky's 
 " History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit 
 of Rationalism in Europe," and I think I am not 
 wrong in saying that between my father and the 
 younger man a very friendly feeling, based on mutual 
 esteem and many common sympathies, had grown 
 up. To this and to my father's memory Mr. Lecky 
 pays an eloquent tribute in a preface to the " History 
 of European Morals," which was published a few 
 months after his death. 
 
 There is one writer [he says] whom I must 
 especially mention, for his name occurs continually 
 in the following pages; and his memory has been 
 more frequently, and in these later months more 
 sadly, present to my mind than any other. Brilliant 
 and numerous as are the works of the late Dean 
 Milman, it was those only who had the great privi- 
 lege of his friendship who could fully realize the 
 amazing extent and variety of his knowledge ; the 
 calm, luminous, and delicate judgment which he 
 carried into so many spheres ; the inimitable grace 
 and tact of his conversation, coruscating with the 
 happiest anecdotes and the brightest and yet the 
 gentlest humour ; and perhaps what was more re- 
 markable than any single faculty, the admirable 
 harmony and symmetry of his mind and character, 
 so free from all the disproportion and eccentricity 
 and exaggeration that sometimes makes even genius 
 assume the form of a splendid disease. They 
 can never forget those yet higher attributes which 
 rendered him so unspeakably reverent to all who 
 knew him well, his fervent love of truth ; his 
 wide tolerance ; his large, generous, and masculine 
 
312 MONUMENT IN ST. PAUL'S [APPENDIX 
 
 judgments of men and things ; his almost instinctive 
 perception of the good that is latent in each opposing 
 party ; his disdain for the noisy triumph and the 
 flitting popularity of mere sectarian strife ; the fond 
 and touching affection with which he dwelt upon the 
 images of the past, combining, even in extreme old 
 age, with the keenest and most hopeful insight into 
 the progressive movements of his time, and with a 
 rare power of winning the confidence and reading 
 the thoughts of the youngest about him. That 
 such a writer should have devoted himself to the 
 department of history which more than any other 
 has been distorted by ignorance, puerility, and dis- 
 honesty, I conceive to be one of the happiest facts 
 in English literature, and (though sometimes diverg- 
 ing from his views) in many parts of the following 
 work I have largely availed myself of his researches. 
 
 A monument to my father's memory was erected 
 by public subscription in the south aisle of the 
 Cathedral an altar-tomb, with recumbent figure ; 
 and I do not think that I can end this imperfect 
 memoir in words more appropriate than those of the 
 inscription : 
 
 HENRICUS HART MILMAN. 
 
 NAT. IV. ID. FEB. CIDIOCCXCI. OB. KAL. OCT. CIDIOCCCLXVIII. 
 
 PASTOR, POETA, HISTORICUS, THEOLOGUS. 
 
 PER XIX. ANNOS HUJUSCE ECCLESLE CATHEDRALIS DECANUS. 
 NAVIS SOLITUDINEM DIVINIS OFFICIIS, ET TURBvE FIDELIUM RESTITUIT. 
 
 CANDORE ANIMI, SUAVITATE MORUM, CAPACI INGENIO INSIGNIS. 
 IN OMNI LITERARUM GENERE VERSATUS : VERI INDAGATOR INTREPIDUS : 
 SACR/E HISTORIC NOVA SCIENTIARUM AUGMENTA FELICITER ADHIBUIT : 
 
 VERBIS CHRISTI SACROSANCTIS UNICE CONFISUS, 
 
 ADVERSOS SIBI, RELIGIONI SECULUM, SI QUIS ALIUS CONCILIABAT : 
 FRUCTUS LONGI CERTAMINIS, SENEX TANDEM PERCIPIENS. 
 
i.] CAPTAIN F. M. MILMAN'S DIARY 313 
 
 APPENDIX I. 
 
 Diary of a Journey from Talavera to Madrid and Bayonne by 
 Captain F. M. Milman, of the Coldstream Guards, October i6th 
 to November 6th, 1809. As stated in the text, Captain Milman 
 was severely wounded at Talavera, and was there taken 
 prisoner in the hospital. 
 
 SEGOVIA, October i6M, 1809. 
 
 I quitted Talavera on the yth inst.* They found 
 us no carts to carry our baggage or ourselves ; we 
 were therefore obliged to buy beasts to carry our 
 things. Our company consisted of Major Popham, 
 24th Regiment ; Major Fothringham, 3rd Guards ; 
 Mr. Scott, Ensign, 3rd Guards ; Surgeon Egan, 23rd 
 Dragoons ; and myself. I contrived to purchase an 
 ass and a pony, and took leave of the town without 
 regret at seven in the morning. The escort consisted 
 of about two hundred men : there were about sixty of 
 our own prisoners, convalescents, who marched with 
 us. The detachment performed the march (nineteen 
 leagues) in three days, when we arrived at Madrid. 
 There we expected the most liberal treatment, but 
 we were most egregiously deceived. The first thing 
 that happened made us suspect viz. that, instead 
 of driving us through the town, they conveyed us 
 round the town close prisoners to the Retiro, and 
 during the three days we remained there the conduct 
 of the Government could not have been worse 
 towards the lowest animals. A dirty-looking rascal 
 brought us black bread to last us three days ; and 
 
 * The battle of Talavera was fought July 28th. 
 
314 PRISONER AT MADRID [APPENDIX 
 
 the second day we received from the same brute a 
 stinking goat, which we were obliged to throw away. 
 They gave us to lie upon some dirty matresses from 
 an hospital which were covered with putrid blood. 
 Had we not luckily had money, we should have 
 fared extremely ill. There was a French inn next 
 door to us, from which we continued to have break- 
 fast and dinner at the rate the unconscionable 
 master chose to charge, which you may be sure was 
 not extremely moderate, nor indeed ever is when 
 they catch hold of Englishmen. 
 
 I have mentioned to you the extent of King Joe's 
 liberality : the reason ascribed for such unprincipled 
 conduct was that his Majesty had lent his carnage for 
 the conveyance of two officers to Bayonne, had given 
 them money and linen, and that regardless of such 
 kindness and notwithstanding their parole (we do not 
 know this for certain) they had made their escape on 
 the road to France in the identical carriage. We do 
 not believe the truth of it, but suppose they must 
 have been rescued. I had a letter of introduction 
 to General Belliard's aide-de-camp, Governor of 
 Madrid, who got leave for us to walk out attended 
 by himself to see the town : his name is Captain 
 Welch ; he promised to get us money, but we saw 
 him but twice. We expected to see him the morn- 
 ing of our departure, but he did not come. Our 
 disappointment was extreme, but to console ourselves 
 it was only to last three days. There were other 
 officers and men who were not quite recovered of 
 their wounds who were confined in the convent 
 of St. Francisco, whom the aide-de-camp permitted 
 us to visit. The account of their treatment answered 
 in a manner to our own. Though they had pretty 
 good dinners given to them, they were kept very 
 close and very strict. 
 
 During my confinement I was extremely pleased, 
 and I may say flattered, by a visit from my 
 
i.] JOURNEY TO BAYONNE 315 
 
 old acquaintance the Marquis of Santiago, the 
 Marchioness, her two sisters, etc. I had con- 
 trived to get a letter conveyed to them ; but my old 
 cicerone, Don Jose Gelabert,* formerly Professor of 
 Rhetoric, was either absent from the city or was 
 afraid to come. Had the Marquis been a politician 
 like his father, he would not have been able to have 
 done me the honour. They were all much shocked 
 at our treatment. The Governor of the Retiro, 
 Colonel Lafona, was very civil, but he was not 
 empowered to relax in rigour. His adjutant was 
 a most infernal, ill-behaved, rough, ill-tempered 
 wretch. I have forgotten his name, though he 
 belongs to the 63rd Regiment. I would recommend 
 him not to fall into the hands of any of us, for should 
 he, per hazard, he will not be spared. They gave 
 us two carts at Madrid, and we marched the first 
 day, the 1 3th, to Guadamara (seven leagues). We did 
 not arrive till half-past one in the morning of the 
 1 4th, and marched again at seven to a small village 
 called Ottero Derrero (four leagues), where we arrived 
 at six in the evening. The second day I should 
 mention that a rascally Spaniard came very familiarly 
 to join in conversation with us. I called him a traitor 
 to his country and abused him, upon which he went 
 up to the commandant, a colonel, who ordered me 
 to march in the advanced guard the whole day : the 
 lying scoundrel told him that I had offered him 
 money to enlist with us. When I explained the 
 business to the colonel he liberated me, especially 
 as the story was so improbable, I being very short of 
 cash ; besides which I told him that I would not 
 give a real for twenty thousand of such animals. We 
 marched to Segovia (three leagues) on the i5th, and 
 arrived about two o'clock. 
 
 * My uncle had paid a visit to Madrid in November, 1808, when 
 Professor Gelabert had taken him in charge and shown him all 
 the "lions" of the place when he made also acquaintance with 
 the Marquis of Santiago and his family. 
 
316 SEGOVIA [APPENDIX 
 
 We had received no provisions on the road, most 
 of the towns being totally deserted or destroyed. 
 Luckily we had laid in a good stock at Madrid on 
 starting. Here (Segovia) we have obtained rations. 
 The colonel is extremely kind, is a native of 
 Martinique, and has been prisoner in England, 
 where he says he was sometimes very well treated, 
 at other times quite the contrary. He had been 
 taken by the late Sir John Moore in the West 
 Indies during the expedition under Sir R. Aber- 
 cromby. Here is to be seen a remarkably fine old 
 aqueduct and a fine cathedral, and we were allowed 
 to go out with an officer to see all the curiosities. 
 At present we are attended by a Hanoverian officer, 
 formerly in our service, who is very attentive to us. 
 We are now two leagues from St. Ildefonso, and 
 cannot go to see it, as we march again in the 
 morning (i8th), having had, as you may perceive, 
 one day's halt. An Irish priest who lives here has 
 been to call on us : he had lodged in his house last 
 year Lord William Bentinck and his two aides-de- 
 camp, who just quitted the place before the entry of 
 the French, collected here to the number of thirty 
 thousand men. Hence to Valladolid there is said 
 to be great danger on the road of being attacked 
 by brigands, who are very numerous. They consist 
 of deserters from the French army, Spaniards, etc. 
 They attacked yesterday a party of twenty-eight 
 dragoons, and killed six of them. We are not safe 
 any part of the way to Bayonne : particularly about 
 Burgos there is considerable danger. We are very 
 lucky in the weather, and we hope to get to the end 
 of our journey before the rains set in. Our destina- 
 tion is said to be either Valenciennes or Verdun. 
 
 VALLADOLID, October z\st. 
 
 We arrived here yesterday about three o'clock from 
 Valdestillas about four leagues, having passed through 
 Santa Maria della Nieva, Olmedo, and Valdestillas. 
 
I.] VALLADOLID 3 1 7 
 
 Nothing very extraordinary occurred on the road, 
 excepting that a duel took place between two 
 French officers, one of whom was wounded in the 
 face by a sabre. An accident happened to a chef 
 d'escadron, who ran against the point of a bayonet, 
 which penetrated his right side ; but the wound is, 
 however, not dangerous. From the latter we learnt 
 the disgraceful and unprincipled conduct of three of 
 our own officers. The treatment they received was 
 unprecedented in point of kindness and attention. 
 The King lent them a carriage of his own ; gave 
 them linen, money, and as much liberty as possible. 
 The chef d'escadron who commanded the escort 
 denied himself luxuries to accommodate them, got 
 them milk and butter for breakfast, gave them the 
 best lodgings on the road, and took the second best 
 for themselves. Notwithstanding all these favours 
 they took the opportunity at Vittoria of escaping. 
 The consequences of course to the other prisoners 
 of war were fatal, for the King keeps them close 
 prisoners at Madrid, and orders the greatest strict- 
 ness to be used towards them. Their names are 
 to be given to me to-day, but two of them I am 
 
 almost certain I know, , . 
 
 On our arrival here we were placed on our parole, 
 and to-day we are to have the honour of dining 
 with the governor, General Kellermann. This town 
 is extremely old and the houses hardly fit to 
 inhabit : by good luck, however, I got a very good 
 billet. This is rather a classic place ; it puts one in 
 mind of " Gil Bias." If you look at the map, you will 
 see, Penaflor, Villa Garcia, etc., and other places 
 mentioned in this delightful book. 
 
 We crossed the Duero about half-way on our 
 yesterday's journey. I have met here with an 
 officer of the Horse Artillery who belonged to the 
 advanced guard in Leon and Galicia in pursuit of 
 the English army. He was with General Colbert,. 
 
318 UNSAFE ROADS [APPENDIX 
 
 who was killed near Villafranca. We have had a long 
 conversation about the different places. The retreat 
 is extremely praised by all the French officers, and 
 Napoleon the Great himself has drunk very often 
 to the memory of Sir John Moore. He reckons 
 the business well conducted and much to the credit 
 of our officers. Near Olmedo we were attacked 
 about dusk by a considerable party of brigands, who 
 were repulsed, and the convoy lost nothing : our 
 two carts were nearly the last arriving at the town, 
 and in great danger of being taken. 
 
 No letters have been received from Madrid for 
 three weeks, all the couriers having been assassinated. 
 I sent Richard to-day to the hospital with some 
 money for the soldiers of my regiment, and they 
 would not let him out again, till luckily the agent for 
 prisoners came in and liberated him. We have 
 strong reports here of a battle at Salamanca, in 
 which the French were beaten and the town nearly 
 destroyed. A relay of horses arrived here this 
 evening for the Emperor. We are in great hopes 
 of meeting him on our journey. General Sebastian 
 is said to have arrived here also. The dinner went 
 off with eclat, and we attended the general and 
 Colonel Pelage, the commandant of our escort, to 
 the comedy, which of all things of the kind is most 
 miserable. The house is not bad, but very badly 
 lighted and thinly attended. The only part worthy 
 of notice was a fandango danced in honour of us 
 and at our particular request. The general speaks 
 English very well. There is another general here 
 who speaks quite like an inhabitant, and has often 
 been in England : I forget his name. They all 
 heartily wish themselves back in France, and envy 
 much our going there. 
 
 Eleven couriers have been stopped by the 
 brigands within a very short time between this place 
 and Burgos. We expect to halt there to-morrow. 
 
i.] A DUEL 319 
 
 BURGOS, October 26th, 1809. 
 
 We halted two days at Valladolid. During our 
 stay there the two French officers who had fought 
 on the road fought again : one with the collet rouge 
 had been wounded in the face. In the second 
 affair the one with the collet jaune was wounded in 
 the wrist and had his hand amputated. We were 
 three days on the road to Burgos the first day to 
 Duenas, the second to Villadrigo, and the third here. 
 This is a most beautiful place, and contains a superb 
 cathedral. The French are erecting fortifications 
 on the heights near the town, which are to be 
 mounted with fifteen hundred pieces of cannon. 
 A man called upon us to-day who had a carriage 
 to let to Bayonne for one hundred and eighty 
 dollars. On calling upon General Thiebault, the 
 commander of Old Spain, stationed here, we stated 
 the extreme kindness of General Kellermann in 
 allowing us to be upon our parole and giving us a 
 coach, and hoped that General T. (who gave us 
 a most agreeable accueillemenf) would grant us 
 another to Bayonne, mentioning the man who had 
 wanted us to hire his carriage. We are in hopes 
 of obtaining it for nothing. This is the mode that 
 tax-gatherers in England generally act in for the 
 purpose of surcharging. A tax-gatherer in the 
 North of England was caught in a shower of rain 
 and took refuge near the door of a lady's house, 
 who very humanely offered him shelter. On 
 arriving in the parlour, he saw over the chimney- 
 piece a stuffed dog in a square glass. He asked 
 first how long it had been dead. The poor old 
 woman, with tears on her cheeks, answered about a 
 month. " And pray, madam, how long had you that 
 animal?" " Oh, sir, several years." Upon which, 
 the shower being over, the gentleman takes his hat, 
 goes home, and immediately writes out a surcharge 
 for the dog which his hospitable hostess had had for 
 
320 HEROIC REMEDIES [APPENDIX 
 
 several years. We are very badly lodged here : the 
 house is an inn, the landlord a Frenchman ; they 
 give us nothing. We were obliged to thrash the 
 waiter last night before he would give us a candle.* 
 At Duenas we were very well off in point of 
 lodgings ; but at Villadrigo, a ruined village, we were 
 indebted for cover to the kindness of a young officer 
 of the French service who lost his arm at Talavera, 
 by name Chambray, 45th Regiment of the line. 
 
 BURGOS, October 
 We have obtained from Commandant Brosse, 
 who commanded the escort when the three officers 
 escaped, the names of those officers namely, . . . 
 Besides their bad conduct in deserting after re- 
 ceiving such favour from the King, the com- 
 mandant had laid out for them thirty-three dollars, 
 which they never paid. ( N . B. They were all natives 
 of Ireland.) As we have been so extremely well 
 treated, we propose paying it at Bayonne and 
 publishing the whole circumstance in the French and 
 English papers ; for the ill treatment we received, 
 and other officers continue to receive, at Madrid is 
 entirely owing to their having run away in that 
 disgraceful manner. . . . 
 
 There is at this place a battalion of the Irish 
 Legion. Most of the officers speak English and are 
 very civil to us. Amongst them we have found 
 out many notorious rebels, particularly one Allen, 
 who was tried at Maidstone and escaped from 
 Ireland in 1803. He and another kept a woollen- 
 
 * Young Englishmen were given in those days to heroic remedies. 
 My father used to tell us with ill-suppressed pride that he always 
 had believed that it was his brother Frank who knocked down 
 Marshal Victor in the streets of Paris. The marshal, in plain 
 clothes, was elbowing his way very rudely and inconsiderately 
 along the crowded pavement, with an insolence so intolerable and 
 so much resented by the bystanders that a young English officer 
 promptly knocked him over. 
 
i.] AN UNPLEASANT CIRCUMSTANCE 321 
 
 draper's shop in College Green, Dublin. The 
 English officers who escaped walked over about 
 a dozen soldiers fast asleep, got out of a two pair 
 of stairs window, and over an immensely high wall, 
 on the top of which they left a loaf of bread. 
 They had all provided themselves with habits de 
 bourgeois. A sailor met them at Vittoria to 
 conduct them. Speaking Spanish, he contrived 
 to disguise himself, and conducted them to Bilbao, 
 near which there were three English frigates. 
 
 An unpleasant circumstance occurred yesterday 
 at the prison where our prisoners are confined. A 
 sergeant of the Irish Brigade, who had belonged 
 to our 5oth and deserted from Lugo, an Irishman 
 by birth, came into the prison to drink with a 
 parcel of soldiers' wives, got drunk, and wanted 
 to enlist the prisoners into the French service. 
 Some words ensuing, and consequently blows, this 
 United Irishman drew his sword and cut two of 
 our soldiers very severely, one of them a servant 
 to the late Captain Bryan. Upon a complaint 
 being made to the French commandant, the culprit 
 is to be broke and imprisoned for one month. . . . 
 
 We expect to get the above-mentioned coach 
 to travel in to-morrow. It will particularly please 
 me, as the rascally coquin wanted to take me in, 
 making a demand of one hundred and eighty 
 dollars to Bayonne. We have found here fresh 
 butter, which is a very agreeable novelty to us : 
 in France, however, we shall be in want of nothing. 
 In twelve days we shall be at Bayonne. We 
 visited the cathedral yesterday, the finest in Spain. 
 It is a Gothic structure the niches are very great ; 
 and although the town has been pillaged, the 
 church has not, on account of Bonaparte's having 
 been lodged in the archbishop's palace. We found 
 a chanoine who spoke English and French, a well- 
 informed man, who conducted us about. There is 
 
 21 
 
322 BURGOS [APPENDIX 
 
 a most beautiful picture of Michael Angelo's the 
 Virgin Mary and our Saviour, with two angels 
 crowning Him. The background is also remarkably 
 fine. In this city great respect is paid to the 
 memory of a famous Spanish general El Cid. 
 There is a monument erected to his memory and 
 that of his wife. They also showed us a brush 
 that belonged to him as a great curiosity. In the 
 cathedral I should mention that there is a most 
 extraordinary clock. There is a small female 
 figure that strikes the quarters, and a figure of a 
 man in a red coat faced with sky blue and gold 
 lace which strikes the hours, opening his mouth 
 each time in a curious manner. 
 
 VITTORIA, October $\st. 
 
 We obtained the coach ; but the scoundrel as it 
 were outwitted us, for he came to us the second 
 evening at Bribiesca, and asked us at what time 
 we should be ready. We told him at three o'clock, 
 but the cunning thief set off whilst we were asleep 
 at two o'clock. This, the first town in Spain, in 
 some respects better than even Madrid, is full of 
 inhabitants, and the shops, which are of all kinds, 
 are open. There are a number of very pretty 
 girls, and there is said to be good society. We 
 are now come to a very mountainous country, and 
 in seven days we shall be at Bay none. On my 
 arrival here I found a letter, dated " Madrid, 
 October i4th," from General Doulbanne, Chief of 
 the Staff, to say that I was to remain at Madrid 
 or return, as they expected to receive an answer 
 to my application for an exchange. I have shown 
 the letter to many French officers, who tell me 
 that I shall certainly obtain it in about a fortnight. 
 I have written to the Minister of War at Paris to 
 tell him that I shall wait at the depot in France 
 for his commands. General Bozer, who is governor 
 
i.] A FIGHT WITH BRIGANDS 323 
 
 of this town, advised me to go to France in 
 preference to returning to Madrid. Of course I 
 did not require much persuasion. We crossed the 
 Ebro yesterday : in that part it is not very broad, 
 and does not give one the idea of the finest river 
 in Spain. This town is situated in an extensive 
 valley, surrounded by an infinity of small villages, 
 and the country around is extremely fertile. We 
 depart to-morrow. Our lodgings here are not 
 good, and the traiteurs very mediocre. Near 
 Miranda the advance guard of our army surprised 
 a party of brigands, sabred fifteen, and took two 
 prisoners. The rest escaped, leaving behind eleven 
 horses. The two prisoners were immediately shot. 
 They are mostly dressed in peasant costume, 
 and they have no saddles to their horses. I 
 reported the coachman who had run away with 
 our carriage to the commandant de place, and told 
 him that he had stolen my jackass, which was 
 taken out of the stable in the middle of the night. 
 
 VILLAREAL, November 2nd. 
 
 We are now ten leagues from Vittoria. Last 
 night we slept at Mondragon, which is a cheery 
 village, where we were extremely well lodged, and 
 centrived to get a decent dinner at an Italian 
 traiteur for seven francs. We met yesterday 
 another convoy going towards Madrid from 
 Bayonne. They had taken two brigands and 
 killed two others, but their convoy straggled so 
 much that they lost seven carts laden with different 
 articles. At the affair near Miranda, M. Marchand, 
 aide-de-camp to Marshal the Duke of Elchingen, 
 killed two brigands with his own hand. I was 
 witness to the whole fight, but kept a very 
 respectable distance. It would have been a great 
 sottise for an unarmed person, especially with a 
 gold-laced coat, to expose himself too near. The 
 
324 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL [APPENDIX 
 
 couriers begin now to travel without escort as we 
 approach the frontier. Yesterday a rascally driver 
 of a cotton cart was very impudent to Major P., 
 and threatened to horsewhip him. I had him 
 instantly reported, and had the promise of his 
 being well flogged on his arrival. To-day a 
 gendarme was insolent, but we had no redress. 
 I advanced this morning and had some breakfast 
 with some French officers, got moderate quarters, 
 and wrote the bons for our provisions. There 
 is a Mr. Pagett, a chef d'escadron of the Royal 
 Guards of King Joseph, who is kind and attentive 
 to me. He was formerly made prisoner in General 
 Hoche's expedition to Ireland. On our arrival at 
 Bayonne, we are to have a grand dinner from a 
 party of officers, of whom he is one. The Biscayan 
 language is Basque, or rather a kind of patois 
 Espagnol (if the expression is allowable). They 
 are altogether a better and cleaner race than the 
 Castilians. A sad exchange of kingdoms for King 
 Joseph, who was adored at Naples, not to mention 
 the difference of the two countries ! As for the 
 Biscayan language above mentioned, it is with 
 difficulty that I can understand a word, though 
 considerably advanced in Spanish. Settled a bet 
 with the Doctor that the Duke of Abrantes was 
 not a marshal, which I won. It was for a bottle 
 of Bordeaux, which the Sangrado, being a cunning 
 rogue, will not pay till we get to France, where it 
 is cheaper. 
 
 HERNANI, November tfh. 
 
 At Tolosa yesterday we had a dinner a FAnglaise 
 namely, some strong soup and a leg of mutton, 
 which our hostess contrived to spoil by cutting a 
 large gash in it and letting out all the gravy. The 
 town is not bad ; but the houses, though clean and 
 neat, are extremely old. We arrived here this 
 
i.] OUT OF CASH 325 
 
 morning well wetted : it has rained all night and this 
 morning till twelve o'clock. I fear the rainy season 
 is completely set in. We dine to-day at a French 
 restaurateur for three livres and ten sous a head, 
 but it must be the last time, as our cash is totally 
 expended, having nothing amongst us but an 
 English guinea, a half-guinea, and a seven-shilling 
 piece, none of which do I believe they will take 
 without deducting immensely from the value. The 
 neighbourhood abounds with chestnuts, which you 
 get in the greatest perfection, as many as you can 
 hold for a sol, ready washed. Major F. sold a 
 horse for three hundred francs, which set us up in 
 cash, and enables us to go to a traiteur again. 
 
 IRUN, November $th. 
 
 This place is close to the sea, and on our march 
 this morning we had a very fine view, and ex- 
 perienced a very agreeable sensation at the sight. 
 The peasantry are very handsome and clean, most 
 particularly the females, who wear their hair platted 
 in a long queue, which has a very neat appearance. 
 Apples are here very abundant, of which they make 
 a kind of cider, which is not very palatable. There 
 is also French beer, which is very inferior to our 
 own. This is the last town in Spain. Within the 
 last two days we have passed the Pyrenees, which 
 in that part are not very tremendous. 
 
 BAYONNE, November bth. 
 
 We started from Irun about eight o'clock, and 
 breakfasted at St. Jean de Luz at a very decent 
 house. At the bridge which divides the two 
 countries all our effects were most rigidly inspected. 
 Those on the French side were the worse behaved. 
 They cut open our mattresses, and inspected every 
 portmanteau to the very bottom. The difference 
 between the two countries is soon apparent. On 
 
326 ARRIVAL IN FRANCE [APPENDIX 
 
 the side of Bayonne the country is fertile and well 
 peopled. The cottages are delightful, and the 
 people clean. They ride in a curious manner a 
 lady in each pannier, and sometimes one in the 
 middle. To see three pretty girls on one horse 
 in that manner is quite delightful. As we are not 
 likely to meet any adventures of a very striking 
 cast while travelling in France, I here conclude 
 this short account, which, if it gives pleasure to 
 any of my friends, will have answered my intention. 
 Should it arrive safe in England, it may serve 
 some time or other to recall to my memory the 
 different places I passed through. 
 
ii.] EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS 327 
 
 APPENDIX II. 
 
 Letters from Captain Husson to Dr. Jenner, and from Dr. Jenner to 
 Sir Francis Milman, relating to Captain Milman's release by 
 exchange of Prisoners. 
 
 MONSIEUR, 
 
 J'ai 1'honneur de vous pre"venir que je viens 
 de recevoir une lettre de mon frere (datde de Paris, 
 2 Aout) concernant la liberte* du Captn. Milman et 
 dont je m'empresse de vous en donner un extrait 
 dans lequel vous verrez qu'il est tres possible que 
 nous soyons tous deux mis en liberte 1 sous le plus 
 court delai, mais le Dr. Husson ddsirerait avant 
 de finir cette affaire que vous eussiez la parole 
 d'honneur du Transport Office specifiant que je 
 serai mis en liberte* aussitot I'arrive'e du Captn. 
 Milman. Comme j'ai envoy 6 votre lettre a ce 
 sujet au Dr. Husson j'ose croire que s'il l'a re$ue 
 il sera satisfait. 
 
 Ne*anmoins d'apres la lettre de mon frere il 
 paraitrait que le mdmoire que vous avez envoye* 
 il y a trois mois au Gouvernement fra^ais pour 
 la liberte* de Monsr. Milman n'est point parvenu 
 et a e*te" e'gare', puisqu'il vous prie de Taider aupres 
 de son Gouvernement. 
 
 Si done vous voulez avoir la complaisance de 
 refaire votre me'moire pour mon Gouvernement 
 demandant la liberte" du fils de votre ami je vous 
 prierais de 1'envoyer a M. de Crespigny qui ayant 
 souvent des occasions pour France le ferait parvenir 
 de suite a mon frere, qui 1'attend pour terminer 
 1'affaire de concert avec votre ami le Dr. Corrisart. 
 
3 2 8 DR. JENNER [APPENDIX 
 
 Oui, monsieur, je n'ai pas le moindre doute que 
 d'ici a trois mois Mr. Milman et moi serons rendus 
 a nos patries si votre me'moire ainsi que la parole du 
 Transport parviennent au Dr. Husson. 
 
 Daignez faire part de cette nouvelle a Sir F. 
 Milman votre ami, et le prier de s'interesser pour 
 qu'on me remette sur parole jusqu'a cette affaire 
 soit terminee, et ce pour cause de ma mauvaise sante 
 me trouvant toujours a 1'hopital. Vous obligierez 
 infiniment, monsieur, celui qui a 1'honneur d'etre, 
 avec le plus profond respect, 
 
 Votre plus devoue et reconnaissant serviteur, 
 
 E. HUSSON. 
 
 Extrait de la lettre du Dr. Husson en date de 2 Aout. 
 
 Je fais les demarches pour le Captn. Milman. II 
 est tres possible que je reussisse ; mais le Transport 
 Office consentira-t-il a te renvoyer quand je lui aurai 
 rendu ce gentilhomme ? L'e'ternelle raison que tu 
 as manque a ta parole ne viendra-t-elle pas encore 
 s'opposer a ce que ces promesses verbales soient 
 re*alise*es ? J'ai ecrit au Dr. Jenner que je ne mettrais 
 la derniere main a cette affaire que quand il aurait 
 cette promesse e*crite. J 'attends la re*ponse du 
 Dr. Jenner pour agir de*finitivement et pour qu'il 
 m'aide dans cette affaire pres du Gouvernement 
 frangais. Aussi, mon cher Eugene, du courage. 
 J'espere re*ussir a rendre Mr. Milman a sa famille si 
 le Dr. Jenner me seconde. 
 
 Forwarding this letter to Sir Francis Milman, 
 Dr. Jenner writes : 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 I received the enclosed by yesterday's post 
 from Captain Husson, and congratulate you on the 
 cheering prospect it holds up. 
 
IL] THE TRANSPORT BOARD 329 
 
 The letter which I sent through you to Captain 
 Husson, and which, it would seem, is now in the 
 hands of his brother in Paris, I meant as a memorial 
 to the French Government. But it appears that 
 something more direct is required. The business 
 with the Transport Board I must leave to you, and 
 presume you will find, after what you communicate 
 to me on the subject, no difficulty in obtaining the 
 pledge. Dr. Husson's letter, alluded to by his 
 brother, has not yet reached me. I had better 
 perhaps wait a few posts for its arrival before I send 
 my memorial, as this letter may furnish me with 
 some useful hints. With regard to Captain Husson's 
 removal from the Prison Ship, I should hope, as he 
 is lingering under a wretched state of health, that 
 the Transport Board would in mercy allow him the 
 benefit of a little sweet air. Your interest there I 
 trust may affect this. 
 
 I remain, dear sir, with best wishes for the 
 restoration of your son, 
 
 Your obliged and faithful servant, 
 
 EDWARD JENNER. 
 
 CHELTENHAM, August $ist, 1813. 
 
INDEX 
 
 ABBOTS Kerswell, 4 
 Abercromby's expedition, Sir R., 
 
 316 
 
 Abergwili, 151 
 Abrantes, the Duke of, 324 
 Acland, Sir Thomas, 108 
 Agassiz, saying of, 90 
 "Aids to Faith," article on, in 
 
 Eraser's Magazine, 278 
 "Alastor," article on, in the 
 
 Quarterly Review ', 80 
 Albano, 256 
 Albemarle Street, a dinner in, 
 
 117, 118 
 
 Alderson, Baron, 1 19 
 Alderson, Lady, 124 
 Allen, the rebel, 320 
 Allied Sovereigns, visit of, to 
 
 Oxford, 27-30 
 Amalfi, 255 
 
 Ammon, Christopher F., 153 
 Andromaque at the Theatre 
 
 Francais, 49 
 
 Anglesey, Marquis of, 112 
 Angouleme and Berri, Dukes of, 
 
 47 
 "Annals of St. Paul's," the, 171, 
 
 233, 241, i^etseq. 
 Anne Boleyn, 57 
 Apollo Belvidere, the, 23 
 Appian Way, the, 258 
 Arnold, Matthew, 213 
 Arnold, Thomas, 5 1 (note), 94 
 
 Arsenics, the Archimandrite, 49 
 Ashburnham House, 136, 137,. 
 
 163 
 
 Ashburnham, Lord, 136 
 Athanasian Creed, the, 286, 287 
 Austin, Mr. John, 186; death of, 
 
 197, 199 
 Austin, Mrs., correspondence with 
 
 Milman, 148-150, 178-187, I97r 
 
 202-207 
 
 BAMPTON Lectures, the, 106, 107, 
 108 
 
 Bancroft, Mr., 159; on the "His- 
 tory of Latin Christianity," 230 
 
 Bantry Bay, 73 
 
 Bardeleben, Madame de, 185 
 
 Barnes, Dr., Sub-Dean of Christ 
 Church, 28 
 
 Bathurst, Colonel, 1 1 
 
 Bear Island, 73 
 
 Beaufort, Duke of, 20 
 
 Belmeis, Richard de, 297 
 
 Belsham, Thomas, 203 (note) 
 
 Belshazzar, 57, 59, 62 
 
 Benson, Rev. Christopher, 88 
 
 Bentinck, Lord William, 316 
 
 Bentley, Dr., 136 
 
 Berry, Miss, 147, 184; funeral of,. 
 179 
 
 Bertrand, Madame, 47 
 
 Biscayan language, 324 
 
 331 
 
332 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bitton, 6 
 
 Blomfield, Bishop (of London), 
 
 167 
 Blucher, Field-Marshal General, 
 
 31 
 
 Boothby, Captain, 1 1 (note) 
 Borgo, Pozzo di, 128 
 Boston, U.S.A., education in, 174 
 Bouvet, Admiral, 73, 74 
 Bowles, Mr., 20 
 Bowood, 151, 177, 1 80, 189 
 Bozer, General, 322 
 Braye, Frideswide, 6 
 Braye, the first Lord, 6 
 Braye, Sir Reginald, 6 
 Braye, Sir Richard, physician to 
 
 Henry VI., 5 
 Brest, 73, 74 
 Bribiesca, 322 
 Brigands, a fight with, 323 
 Bristol, 6 
 
 British Critic, the, 145 
 Brodie, Dr., 124 
 Brosse, Commandant, 320 
 Brougham, Mr., 70, 84 
 Buchanan, Mr., 192, 193 
 Bulwer, Lytton, 128 
 Bunsen's Hippolytus, 186; home, 
 
 190 
 
 Burgos, 316, 318, 319 
 Burke and Hare, 55 
 " Burnet on the Articles," 280 
 Burney, Dr. Charles, 12, 13 
 Burrows, Prof. Montague, 208 
 Burton, Prof. Edward, 257, 258 
 Burton, Sir Frederick, 8 
 Butler, Archdeacon S., 86 
 Butler, Dean, 172 
 Byron, Lord, 58, 80 
 Bystram, Count, 158 
 
 CAIRNS, Rev. John, 211 
 Campbell, Lord, 243 
 Campbell, Miss, 35 
 Canning, George, 108 
 
 Canossa, 231 (note), 281 
 Caradori, Madame, at Oxford, 109 
 Carbery, Lord, 151 
 Cardwell, Rev. Edward, 106, 107, 
 
 H5 
 
 Carlisle, Lord, 141, 164 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 94 ; and Froude, 
 
 211 
 
 Caroline, Queen, 69 
 
 Castel di Sangro, 255 
 
 Catacombs, the, 260 
 
 Cathedrals of England, 299 
 
 Catholic question, the, 109 et seq. 
 
 Cawdor, Lord, 151 
 
 Chandler, Mr., 106 
 
 Channing, Dr., 174 
 
 Chantrey, Sir F., 130 
 
 "Chants Bretons," Villemarque's, 
 
 158 
 
 Chard mills, 7 
 
 " Charles V.," Prescott's, 192 
 Charlotte, Queen, and Francis 
 
 Milman, 3, 52 
 Chatterton, Lady, 158 
 Chelsea old church, 7 
 Chevalier, M., 46, 48 
 Chicheley Professorship, the, 208 
 Christian Knowledge Society, the, 
 
 88, 101 
 Christian Remembrancer, the, 
 
 294 (note) 
 Church, Dean, his opinion of 
 
 the "History of Latin Chris- 
 tianity," 225, 226 
 Circourt, the Count de, 155, 157, 
 
 184, 185 
 
 Clarendon, Lord, 179 
 Clarke, Mary Anne, 46 
 Clerical Subscription Commission, 
 
 the, 244, 245 
 Clinton, Fynes, 136 
 Club, the, 162, 163 
 Cockell, Lieut.-General William, 
 
 70-72 
 
 Cockell, Miss Harriet, Iio 
 Colbert, General, 317 
 
INDEX 
 
 333 
 
 Colenso, Bishop, 267, 278, 279, 
 280, 284, 285, 288 ; his Defence 
 Fund, 268, 269 
 
 Coleridge, John Taylor, after- 
 wards Sir, 15, 1 6, 20, 21, 25, 31, 
 38-40, 76, 77, 81; his early 
 dinner-hour, 128 ; his Memoir 
 of Keble, 215 
 
 Colet, Dean, 171 
 
 Compton, Bishop Henry, 300 
 
 Comptons, the, 65 
 
 Comte, Auguste, 156 
 
 " Conquest of Mexico," Prescott's, 
 
 175 
 
 Consistory Court, the, 305 
 Consort, H.R.H. Prince, 235 
 Convocation, 280, 288 ; and 
 
 Catholic claims, 113 
 Copleston, Dr., 112, 131, 172; 
 
 death of, 167 
 Cotton, Bishop, 286, 287 
 Cotton, Sir Robert, library of, 
 
 136 
 
 " Council of Constantinople," the, 
 
 285, 286 
 
 Cousin, Victor, 157, 185 
 Cranworth, Lord, 246 
 Craufurd, Major-General Catlin, 8 
 Cumberland, Duke of, no, 128 
 Cureton, Dr., 147 
 
 DALTON, the Quaker, 116, 127 
 
 Dam as, 46 
 
 Danube, the, 190 
 
 Dartington, 222 
 
 Davidson, Dr., 129 
 
 Dawson, George, no, in 
 
 Denison, George, 281 
 
 De Pech6s family, the, 5 
 
 Derby, Lord, his election at 
 Oxford, 183; his resignation, 
 184; his translation of the 
 " Iliad," 212-214 
 
 Diceto, Radulf de, 171 
 
 Doctors' Commons, 171 
 
 Donne, Dean, 172, 296, 302, 303 
 
 304 
 
 Doulbanne, General, 322 
 Dropmore Hill, 105 
 Drury, Rev. H., 86 
 Duchesnois, Madame, 49, 50 
 Duel, a, 319 
 Duenas, 319, 320 
 Duero, the, 317 
 Duff, General Sir James, 73 
 Dukinfield, Rev. Sir H. R., 16,. 
 
 1 10, 117 
 
 Duncan, Phil, 127 
 Dunoyer, M., 156, 157 
 Dyer family, the, 4 
 Dyer, Richard, 4 
 Dyke, Sir William Hart, Bart., 5 
 
 EARLE, Christopher, 89 (note) 
 
 Early Court, 52 
 
 East Ogwell, 4 
 
 Eastlakes, the, 164, 290 
 
 Ebro, the, 323 
 
 Edinburgh Review >, the, 186, 28 1, 
 
 285 (note); and Mrs. Opie, 
 
 124 
 
 Edinburgh Reviewers, the, 48 
 Education of the people, Milman's 
 
 interest in, 145 
 Egan, Surgeon, 10, 313 
 Elchingen, Duke of, 323 
 Eldon, Lord, 20, 52 
 Eliot, Mr., 109 
 Ellesmere, Lord, 183 
 Elliot, Miss, 211 
 Elphinstone, Mountstuart, 200 
 English officers, unprincipled 
 
 conduct of, 317 
 Epigrams at Westminster, 214 
 "Essays and Reviews," 267, 268, 
 
 288 
 
 Essex, Lord, 30 
 Eton in 1802, 13 
 Everett, Mr., 159; correspondence 
 
 with Milman, 160 
 
334 
 
 INDEX 
 
 ''European Morals, History of," 
 
 3ii 
 
 Exeter College, Devonshire 
 Scholarship at, 4 ; feeling at, 
 towards J. A. Froude, 210 
 
 Exeter Hall, 239 
 
 FABER, Dr., 283 
 
 Fall of Jerusalem, the, 56, 59 
 
 Family Library, Murray's, 83, 92, 
 98, 99, 100 
 
 " Fasti Hellenic!," the, 136 
 
 Faussett, Rev. Dr., 89, 90, 92 
 
 Fazakerleys, the, 128 
 
 Fazio, 33-37, 51 
 
 Fergusons, the, 181 
 
 Fergusson, Mr., 300 
 
 FitzClarence, Lord A., 113, 129 
 
 Florence, 262 
 
 Fothringham, Major, 10, 313 
 
 Fraser's Magazine, 145, 248, 278 ; 
 on Milman's character, 309 
 
 French books, cheapness of, 50 
 
 Friend, Dr., 137 
 
 Froude, Archdeacon, 209, 222 
 
 Froude, J. A., 208 ; affection of, for 
 Milman, 211 ; dinner given at 
 his house, 211 ; his opinion 
 of the "History of Latin 
 Christianity," 224 ; Newman's 
 influence over, 208, 209 
 
 "Fiirsten," Ranke's, 153 
 
 GABELL, DR., 114 
 
 Gagarin, Prince, 28 
 
 Gelabert, Don Jose, 315 
 
 George III., King, his physician, 
 
 5,232 
 
 George, Mademoiselle, 46 
 German literature, 1 53 
 Gibbon, Edward, 90, 130 ; the 
 
 annotated edition of, 100, 101, 
 
 102, 143 
 Gifford, Mr., 75, 76 
 
 Gladstone, W. E., 180 
 Gloucester, the Bishop of, 134, 
 
 135 
 
 Golden Grove, 1 5 1 
 Gooch, Dr., 107 
 Goodall, Dr., 13, 14, 15, 18, 19 
 Goodwin, Dr., 245 
 Gorges, Sir A., 7 (note) 
 Goss, Mr., organist of St. Paul's, 
 
 afterwards Sir John Goss, 235 
 Grenville, Lord, installation of, 20, 
 
 21 ; presents books to Milman, 
 
 22 ; a reminiscence of, 104 
 Grote, Mr. George, 159, 243 
 Grouchy, General, 73 
 Guadamara, 315 
 Guardian, the, 285, 287 
 
 Guizot, M., 156, 159, 185, 207, 247 
 
 HAHN-HAHN, Countess, 158 
 
 Halford, Sir H., 30 
 
 Hall, Basil, 118 
 
 Hallam, Henry, 127, 163, 164; 
 death of his son, 177 ; death of, 
 199 
 
 Hamiltons, the, 65 
 
 Hammond, Mr., 118 
 
 Hare, Augustus W., 51 (note) 
 
 Harness, William, 14, 15, 81, 84, 
 101 ; correspondence with Mil- 
 man, 19, 21, 26, 84, 98 
 
 Hart family, the, 5 
 
 Hart, Frances, 5/7 ; marriage, 7 
 
 Hart, George, 6 
 
 Hart, John, 5, 6 
 
 Hart, Sir Percival, 5 
 
 Hart, Sir Richard, 6 
 
 Hart, William, of Stapleton, 5, 6 
 
 Hart, William (second), 7 
 
 Hastings, Warren, 24 
 
 Hawkins, Edward, 51 (note) 
 
 Hawtrey, Dr., 147, 170, 205, 213; 
 death of, 201, 202 
 
 Hay ward, Abraham, 158 
 
 Heber, Mrs., 115 
 
INDEX 
 
 335 
 
 Heber, Reginald, 77, 108, 121 ; his 
 opinion of Milman's poems, 57 ; 
 his " Palestine," 23 ; his collec- 
 tion of hymns, 58, 59 
 
 Heber, Richard, 61 
 
 " Hebrew Prophecy," Milman's 
 sermon on, 96, 97 
 
 Hemans, Mrs., 120, 122, 123; 
 Procida; or, the Sicilian 
 Vespers, by, 121, 123 
 
 Herford, Dr., his criticism of Dean 
 Milman's literary work, 227 
 
 High and Low Church, 182 
 
 High Church party, 281 ; attitude 
 of, towards Milman's " History 
 of the Jews," 87 ; their relation 
 to the Crown, 25 1 
 
 Hippolytus, Bunsen's, 186 
 
 " History of Early Christianity," 
 the, 98, 99, 100, 145, 225 
 
 "History of Latin Christianity," 
 the, 82, 93, 143, 144, 145, 168, 189, 
 229, 281; completion of, 223; 
 Dean Church's opinion of, 
 225, 226 ; Dean Stanley's and 
 Froude's opinion of, 224 ; its 
 popularity in America, 230 ; 
 stereotyped edition of, 231 
 
 " History of the Jews," the, 53, 
 56, 83, 84-98, 143, 250 
 
 Hobhouse, Cam, 130 
 
 Hoche, General, his attempted 
 invasion of Ireland, 72, 73 
 
 Hodson, Rev. Fordsham, 28 
 
 Holland, Dr., 164, 176 
 
 Holland, Rev. Mr., 118 
 
 Holmes, Billy, 128 
 
 Holmwood, 232 
 
 Horace, Milman's Life and edition 
 of the works of, 143, 161 
 
 Howley, Archbishop, 51 
 
 Hunt, the editor of the Examiner, 
 48 
 
 Hunter, Sir Claudius, 70 
 
 Husson, Captain, 12; his letters 
 to Dr. Jenner, 327 
 
 " ILIAD " of Homer, Lord Derby's 
 
 translation of the, 212 
 Ingersoll, Mr., 184 
 Inglis, Sir R., 108, 109 
 Inspiration, the theory of, 276 
 Irish Brigade, a sergeant of the, 
 
 321 
 
 Irish Legion, the, 320 
 Irun, 325 
 Irving, Washington, death of, 200 
 
 JAMES I. and II., Kings, recep- 
 tion of, at Oxford, 28, 29 
 
 Jeffrey, Lord, 127, 184 
 
 Jekyll, rhyme by, 127 
 
 Jenner, Dr., u, 12 (note); his 
 letters to Sir Francis Milman, 
 328 
 
 Jones, Inigo, 136, 137, 298, 299 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte, King, 314, 324 
 
 KATRINE, Loch, tourists at, 26, 27 
 
 Keate, Dr., 13, 14, 15 
 
 Keble, John, 51 (note), 60, 217, 
 
 218-222 ; public neglect of, 216 
 Keble Memorial, the, 216, 219, 
 
 220, 221, 222 
 Kellermann, General, 9, n, 317, 
 
 319 
 Kemble, Charles, 34, 36, 121, 122, 
 
 123 
 
 Kemble family, the, 120 
 Kemble, Miss, 35, 36 
 Kerr, Mrs. Bellenden, 186 
 King's Library, the, 136 
 Knight, Sir George, 6 
 Knyvett, Mrs. William, at Oxford, 
 
 109 
 Koslowski, Prince, 23 
 
 LABEDOYERE, trial of, 47 
 Labouchere, Mr., 127 
 Lacaita, Sir James, 253 
 
INDEX 
 
 "Lady of the Lake," the, 19 
 Lafona, Colonel, 315 
 Langlet, the Orientalist, 46, 48 
 Lansdovvne House, a party at, 
 
 128 
 
 Lansdowne, Lord, 184 
 Lansdowne, Lord and Lady, 151, 
 
 158, 163 
 
 Lardner, Dr., 89, 99 
 Laud, Bishop, 298 
 Lawrence, Mr. 191 
 Lea, H. C., on the "History of 
 
 Latin Christianity," 230 
 Le Bas, Rev. Charles Webb, 88 
 Lecky, W. E. H., his tribute to 
 
 Milman's memory, 311 
 Lectionary, revision of the, 237 
 " Lectures on the Jewish Church," 
 
 Dean Stanley's, 93 (note) 
 Lefevre, Mrs., 130 
 Legge, Bishop, 51 
 Levaton in Woodland, 4 
 Lewis, Sir George Cornewall, 285 
 Liddell, Dr., 128, 147 
 Literary men, deaths of, 199, 200 
 Little, Mr., 184 
 Lloyd, Mr., 1 8, 1 06 
 Lockhart, Mr., 79, 83, 85, 97, 117, 
 
 119, 1 64 (note); Andrew Lang's 
 
 Life of, 79 
 
 Long Chamber at Eton, life in, 17 
 Longfellow, H. W., 162 
 Longley, Charles T., Archbishop 
 
 of Canterbury, 51 (note), 87, 
 
 215, 245; correspondence with 
 
 Milman, 216-222, 237 
 Longley, Sir Henry, 51 (note) 
 Longueville, Madame de, Cousin's, 
 
 1 86 
 
 Louvre, a visit to the, 46, 47 
 Lowndes, Mr., 26 
 Lowth's " Lectures on Hebrew 
 
 Poetry," Bishop, 296 
 Lullingston, 5 
 Liittichau, Madame de, 185 
 Luttrell, Mr., 127 
 
 Lyell, Lady, 194 
 
 Lyell, Sir Charles, 90, 283 ; corre- 
 spondence with Dean Milman, 
 270, 284 
 
 Lyells, the, 164, 174 
 
 McCAUL, Dr., 270 
 
 Macaulay, afterwards Lord, 147, 
 
 164, 170, 243; funeral of, 199; 
 
 biography of, by Sir George 
 
 Trevelyan, 201 ; Dean Milman's 
 
 memoir of, 201 ; popularity of 
 
 his " History of England," 160, 
 
 161, 1 88; Sydney Smith's name 
 
 for, 128 
 
 Macmillaris Magazine, 262, 265 
 Macready, 162 
 Madrid, Captain Milman's arrival 
 
 at, 313 
 
 " Mahabharata," the, 64 
 Mahon, Lady, 158 
 Mahon, Lord, 163 
 Manning, afterwards Cardinal, 283 
 Mant, Bishop, 92 
 Mapledurham, 113, 202 
 Marchand, M., 323 
 Marldon, 4 
 
 Mars, Mademoiselle, 50 
 Martineau, Mr., 203, 204 
 Martyr of Antioch, the, 57, 58, 62, 
 
 123 
 
 Maurice, Bishop of London, 297 
 Maurice, Mr., 279 ; his views on 
 
 eternity of punishment, 267 
 Max Miiller, Professor, on 
 
 Milman's sermon on " Hebrew 
 
 Prophecy," 97 
 Melbourne, Lord, 144, 167 
 Mellitus, Bishop, 297 
 " Memorials of Westminster 
 
 Abbey," the, 293 
 Menander, Guillaume Guizot's, 
 
 192 
 
 Mignet, M., 291 
 Milburn, Mr., 194 
 
INDEX 
 
 337 
 
 Miller, Mr., 118 
 
 Milman, Archibald, C.B., 7 (note) 
 
 Milman chapel, the, 7 
 
 Milman, Charles Louis Hart, 
 death of, 161 (note) 
 
 Milman family, connection with 
 Exeter College, 4; pedigree 
 of, 3, 4 
 
 Milman, Frances Emily, 7 ; death 
 of, 8 
 
 Milman, Francis, afterwards Sir, 
 3 ; physician to George III., 1 1 ; 
 parentage, 4 ; marriage, 7 
 
 Milman, Francis Miles, 7 ; his 
 diary, 313-326; enters the 
 army, 8 ; in the Peninsular War, 
 8, 9 ; experiences as a prisoner 
 in Spain, 9, 10, 1 1 ; in France, 
 1 1 ; return to England and pro- 
 motion, 12 
 
 Milman, Henry Hart, Dean, 
 American friendships of, 159; 
 ancestry, 3 et seq.\ Bampton 
 Lecturer, 106 ; his belief, 229; 
 burial, 308 ; children's grave, 
 166; elected to the Club, 162, 
 163 ; correspondence with Mrs. 
 Austin, 148 et seq., 178-187, 
 197, 202-207, with Coleridge, 
 40, 60, 76, 77, with Mr. Everett, 
 1 60, with Sir Charles Lyell, 
 270, with Mr. Lockhart, 88, 
 
 98, with Dr. Longley, 216-222, 
 237, with Mr. Murray, 87, 89, 
 
 99, with Mr. Prescott, 174, 176, 
 187-193, with his sister Emily, 
 1 8, 19, 23, 24, 30, 34, 45, 65, 
 with Dean Stanley, 93, 246, 264, 
 278-283, 285, with Mr. Ticknor, 
 J 73 I 95 I 9%> vv i tn his wife, 
 104 et seq. ; partial deafness, 
 306 ; takes his degree, 51; his 
 religious dramas, 57, 58, 59 ; 
 education, 12 et seq., views on, 
 252 ; edits Gibbon's " Decline 
 and Fall," 100, 101, 102; family 
 
 bereavements, 160, 165 ; his 
 tragedy Fazio, 33 ; enters Holy 
 Orders, 51; on " Hebrew Pro- 
 phecy," 96 ; History of Early 
 and Latin Christianity (see 
 " History ") ; denounced for 
 holding heretical opinions, 86 ; 
 honours conferred on, 290, 
 291 ; illness and death, 307 ; 
 impressiveness of his reading, 
 236, 237 ; comparison of Latin 
 and Teutonic Christianity, 227, 
 228; love of travel, 252; literary 
 work, 143 ; marriage, 70 ; matri- 
 culation at Brasenose, 19 ; 
 monument to, 312; Oxford 
 avocations, 103, offices held at, 
 60, 1 08, 115, prizes taken at, 
 22; on Peel's election com- 
 mittee,! 10 ; interview with Peel, 
 135 ; Prescott's opinion of, 194 ; 
 poems, 16, 23, 33, 37, 38, 42, 
 56, 58, 59 ; connection with the 
 Quarterly Review, 64, 75, 80, 
 82, 120, 145 ; preface to the 
 Translation of Ranke, 205 ; 
 appointed Rector of St. Mar- 
 garet's, Westminster, 131, to 
 St. Mary's Vicarage, Reading, 
 52, 56, Dean of St. Paul's, 167, 
 168-171 ; his epic " Samor," 37, 
 38, 42 ; attachment to his sister 
 Emily, 8 ; friendship with Dean 
 Stanley, 262, 263 ; tours in 
 France, 45, Italy, 65, 177, 255, 
 Germany, 190, Scotland, 181 ; 
 trustee of the British Museum, 
 291 ; interest in Westminster 
 School, 146; life at West- 
 minster, 137 ; his works, 16, 23, 
 33. 38, 42, 53. 56-59. 82-100, 
 143-145, 161, 1 68, 189, 223- 
 231 
 
 Milman, Mrs. H. H., nee Mary 
 Anne Cockell, 70, 71 ; letters 
 to, 103, 104, 105, et seq. 
 
 22 
 
338 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Milman, Robert, afterwards Bishop 
 of Calcutta, 4, 40, 41 
 
 Milman, Thomas, 4 
 
 Milman, William George, after- 
 wards Sir, 7 ; death of, 260, 
 261 
 
 Milnes, Monckton, 158 
 
 Miranda, 323 
 
 Mitford, Miss, 56,82, 120, 132, 165 
 
 Modbury Church, 4 
 
 Mole, M. de, 156, 158 
 
 Molesworth, Sir William, 180 
 
 Mondragon, 323 
 
 Mont Cenis, 262 
 
 Monteagle, Lord, 152 
 
 Montgomery, Robert, 81 ; Macau- 
 lay's review of, 81 
 
 Moore, Sir John, 316, 318 
 
 Moore, T., 53 ; Lord John 
 Russell's Life of, 184 
 
 More, Hannah, 24 
 
 More, Sir Thomas, 7 (note) 
 
 Morpeth, Lord, 164, 17$ 
 
 Motley, Mr., 159 
 
 Murchison, Sir Roderick, 171 
 
 Murchisons, the, 164 
 
 Murray, John, 62, 75, 79, 83, 84, 
 
 85,98, 102, 117, 120, 205, 206, 
 
 212, 213, 223, 231, 278; Mr. 
 Smiles' Memoir of, 79, 83 
 Murray, Miss, 118 
 
 "NALA and Damayanti," 63 
 
 Napier, Sir Joseph, 245, 246, 247 
 
 Naples, 65, 255 
 
 Napoleon, 47, 318 
 
 National Gallery, Royal Commis- 
 sion on the, 290 
 
 Nazianzen, Gregory, 287 
 
 Nelson's funeral, 234 
 
 Newcastle, Duke of, 1 10 
 
 Newman, Dr., 145, 178, 217 (note), 
 283 ; influence over J. A. 
 Froude, 208, 209 
 
 Newton, Dean, 172 
 
 Ney, Marshal, arrest of, 47 
 Nicolopoulo, M., 46, 49 
 "No Popery "cry, 178 
 "Noctes Ambrosianae," the, 23 
 North, Christopher, on Milman's 
 
 poems, 57 ; on prize poems, 23 
 North, Frederick, 46, 48 
 Norton, Professor, his " Evidences 
 
 of the Genuineness of the 
 
 Gospels," 173 
 Nottingham, riots at, 24 
 Nowell, Alexander, Dean, 172 
 
 OBER - AMMERGAU, the Passion 
 Play at, 262, 264-266 
 
 Ogilvie, Charles A., 5 1 (note) 
 
 Oldenburg, Grand Duchess of, visit 
 of, to Oxford, 27 
 
 Olivera, Mr., 55 
 
 Olmedo, 318 
 
 Omnibus fares, 130 
 
 O'Neill, Miss, as Bianca, 35 
 
 Ongaro, SignorDel'. 37 
 
 Opie, Mrs., 123 
 
 Origin of species, the Lamarckian 
 and Darwinian theory of, 271 
 
 Orleans, Duchess of, 183 
 
 Ottero Derrero, 315 
 
 Oxford, Commemoration at, 108 ; 
 High and Low Church feeling 
 at, 183 ; Parliamentary election 
 at, 109-114; party feeling at, on 
 Parliamentary Reform, 115; 
 visit of Prince Regent and 
 Allied Sovereigns to, 27, of 
 Grand Duchess of Oldenburg 
 to, 27 
 
 Oxford Movement, the, 283 
 
 P^ESTUM, 255 
 
 Pagan and Christian sepulchres, 
 
 259 
 
 Pagett, Mr., 324 
 Paignton, 4 
 
INDEX 
 
 339 
 
 Palgrave, Mr., 84, 118 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette, the, 309 
 
 Pan-Anglican Synod, the, 287 
 
 Paris, a visit to, 45 
 
 Parker, the Oxford bookseller, 93 
 
 Parliamentary Reform, 1 1 5 
 
 Pasta, Madame, at Oxford, 109 
 
 Peachey, Elizabeth, 5 
 
 Pearson, Sir Edwin, 138, 141, 
 142 (note) 
 
 Peel, Sir Robert, 108 ; offers Mil- 
 man preferment, 131, 135 ; 
 resignation of his seat at Ox- 
 ford, 109; defeat, 113, 114 
 
 Pelage, Colonel, 318 
 
 Penn, Granville, 270 
 
 Perceval, Mr., assassination of, 24 
 
 "Philip II.," Prescott's, 187 
 
 Phillimore, John, 232 
 
 Phillpotts, Dr., 112, 129 
 
 Plantas, the, 46, 48 
 
 Platoff, the Hetman, 30 
 
 Plumptre, Mr., 18, 19 
 
 Popham, Major, 10, 313 
 
 Prescott, Mr. W. H., 159, 189; 
 character of, 194; correspon- 
 dence with Milman, 174, 176, 
 187-193; death of, 195, 199; 
 his works: "Charles V.," 192; 
 " Conquest of Mexico," 175 ; 
 "Philip II.," 187 
 
 Presidential election, the, 192 
 
 Prideaux-Brune, Charles, 4 
 
 Prideaux, Agnes, 4 
 
 Prideaux family, the, 4 
 
 Prideaux, Joan, 4 
 
 Prideaux, Sir John, tomb of, 4 
 
 Prince Regent, lines in compli- 
 ment to, 30 ; visit of, to Oxford, 
 27 
 
 Prize poems, Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge, 23 
 
 Prudentius, 260 
 
 Prussia, King of, 30 
 
 Publishers and retail booksellers, 
 243 
 
 Pusey, Dr., 247, 281, 283 
 Pyrker, Joh. Ladislaw, 149 
 
 QUAKERS, the, 6 
 
 Quarterly Review, its criticism 
 of the " Conquest of Mexico," 
 175, of Macaulay's History, 161 ; 
 editorship of, 76, 77, 79 ; Mil- 
 man's contributions to, 64, 75, 
 80, 82, 145, 192, 256; Mrs. Opie's 
 anxiety to be reviewed in, 123- 
 125 
 
 Quarterly Reviewers, 117 
 
 Queen's Lodge, Ascot, 307 
 
 " Ramayana," the, 64 
 
 Ranke, Professor Leopold von, 
 Mrs. Austin's translation of his 
 " History of the Popes," 205 ; 
 his style, 206 
 
 Reading, St. Mary's Vicarage at, 
 in 1817, 52, 54; Radicalism at, 69 
 | Recamier, Madame, 184 
 
 Reeve, Henry, 178 
 
 " Register," the, 57 (note) 
 
 Religion and science, 270 et seq. 
 
 Richardsons, the, 181 
 
 Richmond, George, R.A., 290 
 
 Rienzi) Young and Miss Phillips 
 in, in 
 
 Rieti, 254 
 
 Ristori, Madame, as Bianca, 37 
 
 Ritual Commission, the, 287 
 
 Ritualism, 282 
 
 Riviera di Ponente, the, 262 
 
 Robertson's "Charles V.," Pres- 
 cott's edition of, 191 
 
 Rogers, Mr. Samuel, 128, 135, 
 164 ; a breakfast at, 127 
 
 Rokeby, Lord, 72 
 
 " Roma Sotterranea Cristiana, 
 La," 256 
 
 Roman antiquities, 177 
 
 Rome, 66, 255, 256 
 
340 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Rossi, the Cavaliere de, 256 
 
 Ruskin, Mr., 257 
 
 Russell, Charles, 55 
 
 Russell, Lady John, 184 
 
 Russell, Lord John, 184; nomi- 
 nates Milman Dean of St. 
 Paul's, 167 ; on admission to 
 the Cathedral, 232 ; popularity 
 of, 178 
 
 Russia, Emperor of, visit of, to 
 Oxford, 30 
 
 SADLER, Michael Thomas, 1 1 8 
 
 St. Bride's Church, 302 
 
 St. David's, Bishop Thirlwall of, 
 151, 281 
 
 St. Hilaire, M., 185 
 
 St. Ildefonso, 316 
 
 St. Jean de Luz, 325 
 
 St. Luke's Gospel, the preface 
 to, 276 
 
 St. Margaret's, Westminster, boun- 
 daries of the parish, 137, 138 
 
 St. Mary-le-Bow Church, 302 
 
 St. Paul's, acoustic qualities of, 
 235. 2 36; beauty of, 300; 
 Deanery of, 137 ; decoration of, 
 241, 242 ; evening services at, 
 239 ; fires at, 296, 297 ; " Hand- 
 book of," 240 (note) ; inhabi- 
 tants of the Deanery, 171 ; 
 regulations and abuses in the 
 Cathedral, 232, 233 
 
 St. Peter's, the illumination of, 66 
 
 St. Stephen's, Walbrook, 302 
 
 Salerno, 255 
 
 " Samor," 37, 38, 42 ; Coleridge's 
 criticism of, 38; description of 
 the firing of the beacons in, 
 43, 44, of Westminster Abbey 
 in, 165 ; Southey's opinion of, 
 38 
 
 Sancroft, Dean, 172 
 
 Sandleford Lodge, 72, 117 
 
 Santiago, the Marquis of, 315 
 
 Saturday Review, the, 294 (note) 
 
 " Savonarola, Erasmus, and other 
 Essays," 83, 226 (note), 256 
 (note) 
 
 Scharf, jun., George, 143 
 
 Schlosser, 153 
 
 Scotland, a tour in, 181 
 
 Scott, Ensign, 10, 313 
 
 Scott, Rev. William, 294 (note) 
 
 Scott, Sir W., 84 
 
 Sebastian, General, 318 
 
 Seeker, Dean, 172 
 
 Segovia, 315 
 
 Sewell, Sir John, no, 154 
 
 Shaftesbury, Lord, 239 
 
 Sharpe, Mr., 127 
 
 Shelburne, Lady, 180 
 
 Shelley, the poet, 80 
 
 Sheridan, T. B., 21 
 
 Sherlock, W., Dean, 172 
 
 Shoreham Castle, 5 
 
 Short, Thomas Vowler, 51 (note) 
 
 Shrewsbury, Lord, 154 
 
 Sibthorp, Mr., 154 
 
 Siddall, Mr., 127 
 
 Siddons, Mrs., 34 
 
 Sidmouth, Lord, no 
 
 Sidney College, 25 (note) 
 
 Sienna, 262 
 
 Smith, Bobus, 128 
 
 Smith, Mrs. Sydney, 169 
 
 Smith, Sydney, 152, 164, 285, 286 
 
 Smith, William, of Norwich, 46 
 
 Soane, Sir J., 136 
 
 Somerville, Miss, 34, 35 
 
 Sorrento, 255 
 
 Southey, Robert, 20, 21, 25, 27, 
 38, 76, 80, 83, 84, 117, 118, 119 
 
 Stanhope, Lord, 213, 290 
 
 Stanley, Bishop, 308 
 
 Stanley, Dean, 86, 96, 231, 232; 
 correspondence with Lady 
 Augusta, 96, with Milman, 93, 
 246, 264, 278-283, 285 ; friend- 
 ship with Milman, 262, 263 ; his 
 " Historical Memorials of West- 
 
INDEX 
 
 341 
 
 minster Abbey," 136; judgment 
 of the " History of Christianity," 
 144; of the "History of Latin 
 Christianity," 224 ; review of 
 Coleridge's Memoir of Keble, 
 215 
 
 Stanley, Lady Maria, 130 
 
 Stanley, Miss Louisa, letter from 
 Milman to, 23 1 
 
 Stapleton, 6 
 
 State services, 288, 289; discon- 
 tinuance of, 290 
 
 Stephens, Miss, at Oxford, 109 
 
 Stillingfleet, Dean, 172 
 
 Stowell, Lord, 52, 53, 163 
 
 Stratheden House, 243 
 
 Sumner, Charles, 107 
 
 Sumner, J. B., Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, 208 
 
 Surrey Theatre, the, 33 
 
 Sussex, Duke of, 127 
 
 Sutherland, Duke and Duchess 
 of, 128 
 
 Sydney Papers, the, 179 
 
 TAIT, Dr., Bishop of London, 
 
 afterwards Archbishop of 
 
 Canterbury, 239 
 Talavera, Diary of Captain F. M. 
 
 Milman's journey from, to 
 
 Madrid, 313 et seq. 
 Talfourd, Mr. Justice, 55 
 Talleyrandiana, some, 129 
 Talma, 46, 49 
 Taylor, Jeremy, 151 
 Taylor, Michael Angelo, 70 
 Tenby, 150 
 Tennyson, Lord, on prize poems, 
 
 23 
 
 Thiebault, General, 319 
 Thierry, Amedee, 159 
 Thierry, Augustin, 155, 157 
 Thiers, M., 156 
 Thistle wood gang, the, 119 
 Tholuck, F., 212 
 
 Thynne, Lord John, 136, 137, 281 
 
 Ticknor, Mr. George, 159, 197 ; 
 correspondence with Milman, 
 173. J95, !9 8 ; his "Life of 
 Prescott," 1 60, 198 
 
 Ticknors, the, 190 
 
 Tillotson, Dean, 172, 296 
 
 Tocqueville, de, death of, 200 
 
 Tolosa, 324 
 
 Tower, fire at the, 152 
 
 Tower Street, 6 
 
 Trevelyan, Lady, 201 
 
 Trevelyan, Sir George, 201 
 
 Turner, General, 28 
 
 Twisleton, Mrs., 189, 190 
 
 VALLADOLID, 316, 317, 319; cathe- 
 dral, 321 
 Valpy, Dr., 54 
 Van Mildert, Dean, 172 
 Victor, Marshal, 320 (note) 
 Vigny, Alfred de, 156, 158 
 Villadrigo, 319, 320 
 Villemarqu6, Vicomte de la, 1 57 
 Vittoria, 322 
 
 Volknaer, the geographer, 49 
 Volney, Count, 49 
 
 WALPOLE, Mr., 237 
 
 "Warfare of Science and 
 Theology," the, 274 
 
 Welch, Captain, 314 
 
 Wellesley, Gerard, 113 
 
 Wellington, Duke of, his ministry 
 in 1829, 109; funeral at St. 
 Paul's, 179, 233-236; the 
 Wellington monument, 305 
 
 Westbury, Lord Chancellor, 250 
 
 Westmacott, Mr., 290 
 
 Westminster Abbey, 136 
 
 Westminster, cholera and in- 
 fluenza in, 140 
 
 Westminster Improvement Com- 
 missioners, 138, 139, 142 
 
342 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Westminster School, 146, epigrams 
 
 at, 214 
 
 Whately, Archbishop, 108 
 White, Andrew Dickson, 91, 274 
 White, Blanco, 106, 107 
 White, Dr., 90 
 White, Mr. and Mrs., 186 
 Wilberforce, Bishop Samuel, 63 
 
 (note) 
 Williams, Professor Monier, 63 
 
 (note) 
 
 Williams, Sir John Hamlyn, 129 
 Winchilsea, Lord, no 
 Wiseman, Cardinal, 178 
 Wood, Sir William Page, after- 
 
 wards Lord Chancellor Hather- 
 
 ley, 1 68 
 
 Worcester, a vacant stall at, 129 
 Wordsworth, William, the poet, 
 
 a meeting with, 25 
 Wren, Sir Christopher, 137, 235, 
 
 298 ; designs for the new 
 
 building of St. Paul's, 300, 301 ; 
 
 wishes as to the screen at St. 
 
 Paul's, 241 
 Wright, J., 213 
 
 YARMOUTH, Lord, 30 
 York, Archbishop of, 112 
 
 Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Vituy, Lei., London and Ayltsbury. 
 

 
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