YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

From the
COLLECTION OF OXFORD BOOKS
made by
FALCONER MADAN
Bodley's Librarian

T$y ti&e game author.

Crown &vo. Js. 6d.
A REVIEW OF THE BAPTISMAL
CONTROVERSY. CONTENTS.
Part I.— Proof from Scripture— The Doctrine of Baptism so far as contained in
Scripture— The Baptismal Character— Regeneration considered as Remission
of Sin—Scriptural sense of Regeneration — Scholastic sense of Regeneration
— Calvinistic sense of Regeneration— Regeneration of Adults in Baptism-
Regeneration of Infants in Baptism— Secondary and Incorrect senses of Re
generation—The Patristic assertion of the Regeneration of all Infants in
Baptism — Augustinianism — Conclusion.
Part II. —Introduction— The Infant Baptismal Service- The Catechism— Rule
of Literal Interpretation considered— Articles and Prayer Book considered
in connection— Documentary Sources— Baptismal Language of Calvinism-
Arguments of Precedent— Relations of Time between the Grace and the
Sacrament — Conclusion— Notes.

%vo. lay. 6d.
LECTURES AND OTHER THEOLOGICAL
PAPERS.
CONTENTS.
Evidence — Physical Science and Theology— Jewish and Heathen Conceptions of
a Future State— On the supposed Obscurity of Holy Scripture— St. Paul's
Teaching an integral Part of Holy Scripture— The Dogmatic Office, its
Scope and Method — Mysterious Truths— Of Christ alone without Sin--
Original Sin — Original Sin asserted by Worldly Philosophers and Poets —
Perfectibility— Modern Doctrine of Perfectibility — The Athanasian Creed—
The Holy Eucharist — Letter to the Rev. Professor Stanley on the Articles —
Observations on the Colonial Church Question — Review of Dr. Newman's
Grammar of Assent — Note on Egyptian Doctrine of a Future State.

Crown %vo. "js. (id.
SERMONS, PAROCHIAL AND OCCASIONAL.
CONTENTS.
The Right Eye and the Right Hand — Temptation treated as Opportunity — The
Influences of Habit on Devotion — Thought for the Morrow — The Relief of
Utterance — Seeking a Sign — David Numbering the People — The Heroism of
Faith — Proverbs — The Teaching of Events — Growing Worse — Our Lord the
Sacrifice for Sin — The Parable of the Sower — The Religious Enjoyment of
Nature — The Threefold Office of the Holy Spirit —Wisdom and Folly tested by
Experience — Moses, a Leader — The Unjust Steward — Sowing to the Spirit —
True Religion, a Manifestation — St. Paul's Exaltation of Labour — Jeremiah's
Witness against Idolatry — Isaiah's Estimate of Worldly Greatness — The Short
ness of Life — The Endless State of Being — The Witness of the Apostles — Life a
Probation — Christian Mysteries, the Common Heritage — Our Lord's Hour —
Fear — -The Educating Power of Strong Impressions — The Secret Justice of
Temporal Providence— Jacob as a Prince Prevailing with God.

WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.— Continued.

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EIGHT LECTURES ON MIRACLES:
Being the Bampton Lectures for 1865.
CONTENTS.
Miracles necessary for a Revelation— Order of Nature— Influence of the Imagina
tion on Belief-Belief in a God-Testimony-Unknown Law-Miracles regarded
in their Practical Result— False Miracles.
Crown %vo. $s.
THE THEORY OF DEVELOPMENT.
A Criticism reprinted from the Christian Remembrancer,
. January 1874.
Two Vols. 24J.
ESSAYS, HISTORICAL AND THEOLOGICAL.
CONTENTS.
Volume 1.— Introduction and Memoir of the Author— Lord Strafford— Archbishop
Laud — Carlyle's Cromwell — Luther.
Volume II.— Dr. Arnold— Blanco White— Dr. Pusey's Sermon— The Book of Job-
Maurice's Theological Essays— Indian Conversion — The Argument of Design—
The Principle of Causation considered in Opposition to Atheistic Theories— In
Memoriam — The Author's Articles and Works.
Crown %vo. Js. 6d.
SERMONS, PREACHED BEFORE THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,
And on Various Occasions.
CONTENTS.
The Roman Council — The Pharisees — Eternal Life — The Reversal of Human Judg
ment — War — Nature — The Work of the Spirit on the Natural Man — The
Atonement — Our Duty to Equals — The Peaceful Temper — The Strength of
Wishes — The Unspoken Judgment of Mankind — The True Test of Spiritual
Birth — Ascension Day — Gratitude — The Principle of Emulation— Religion the
First Choice — The Influence of Dogmatic Teaching on Education.
Svo, icy. 6d.
RULING IDEAS IN EARLY AGES, AND THEIR
RELATION TO OLD TESTAMENT FAITH.
Lectures delivered to Graduates of the University of Oxford.
CONTENTS.
Abraham — Sacrifice of Isaac— Human Sacrifices— Exterminating Wars— Visitations
of the Sins of Fathers upon Children— Jael— Connection of Jael's Act with the
Morality of her Age— Law of Retaliation— Retaliation Law of Goel — The End
the Test of a Progressive Revelation— The Manicheeans and the Jewish Fathers.

LETTERS

OF THE

REV. J. B. MOZLEY, D. D.

LETTERS

OF THE

Rev. J. B. MOZLEY, D.D.
LATE CANON OF CHRIST CHURCH, AND REGIUS PROFESSOR OF
DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD

EDITED BY

HIS SISTER

RIVINGTONS
WATERLOO PLACE, LONDON

MDCCCLXXXV

ADVERTISEMENT.
In preparing the present volume the Editor admits
to having included in her selection a few letters of
a more private character than are often given to the
world, and to having some misgivings in so doing. If
it is a grave mistake, an apology will do little to
excuse it ; but in the course of selection it has con
stantly seemed that the more intimate the letter the
more justice is done to writer and reader.
A series of letters in chronological order insensibly
grows into a biography without any such design in
the selector. Perhaps by admitting letters of the
character indicated, the nearest approach to a true
biography is reached that the life of a retired scholar
can furnish.
The Editor's warm thanks are due to those friends
of Dr. Mozley who in a few cases have allowed their
letters to be inserted, as throwing light upon his own.
A. M.
Barrow-on-Trent,
September, 1884.

INTRODUCTION.
When a friend of Dr. Mozley's maturer years — one to whose
judgment all would defer — suggested to the possessor of his
papers and home correspondence the publication of a selection
of his letters, saying, that having had occasion to look over old
letters, his stood out among them as full of force and interest ;
the idea, which had never suggested itself before, became at
once interesting; finding encouragement in the fact of the
large number of his letters that have been preserved. The
habit, in some members of his family, of keeping letters, has
preserved James Mozley's letters to his home through the
various shifts and changes that time brings about : the vicissi
tudes of life and death sometimes laying question and answer,
comment and criticism, side by side in startling conjunction.
In the attempt to form a collection of letters which are to
illustrate a character as well as a course of events, the difficulty
starts at the outset ; how or where to begin : for it is impossible
not to feel, when a character is looked into, how much the
early childhood of a mind affects its whole subsequent develop
ment. Those who care for letters in this light, and not merely
as records of events, do care to know under what circumstances
and influences the manner of writing has been formed ; and if
these are to be shown, it must be by means outside the writer's
own knowledge and consciousness. Advantages are subtle
things. Great men's sons are supposed to be benefited largely
by early initiation into great ideas ; but it must constantly be
A

2 Introduction.
the fact that the father's greatness, and occupation in great
affairs remove his children from his indirect influence-the
most powerful of all influences. It is the private family-life,
in which each member follows his course in obedience to neces
sary rules of order and convenience, that often furnishes the
advantages we speak of. James Mozley, as a child, heard pub
lic matters discussed before him in the family circle. His
father was public-spirited and strong and undoubtmg in his
convictions. He was a Tory, and believed Tory principles the
safety of the State. Men may change opinions thus imbibed
as time goes on— that is, they may think for themselves ; but it
is a good thing for the heart and intellect to have been zealous
for a cause while yet too young to understand all its bearings ;
it is a good thing not to start life by being eclectic, good
to feel one of a party ; especially— and this is one advantage
of a private station— to have its interests at heart without a
thought or dream of personal or family advantage. Intelligent
children who have to listen, not talk, while their parents and
elders discuss general, public topics and public men, learn to
think about them in a different spirit, and with different con
sequences from those children who are allowed to interpose
and lower the subject to their level; who are, perhaps,
encouraged to give their opinion on subjects above them.
Public events, great questions, startling incidents take much
more effect on the mind of children, if their interest in them
does not exhale in chatter, in the liberty of interruption,
perhaps in argument. Deference to authority, the sense of
ignorance, should come before criticism. In this spirit public
questions come to the child with the feeling of duty connected
with them, and also with what one may venture to call the
wholesome sense of partisanship ; of being on the right side
with the nobler actors and thinkers of the day.
It happened, too, that in this family circle letters were a
great interest. Any member of it, away from home, was

Introduction. 3
expected to write a report of his doings. Postage in those days
was heavy. It was a matter of conscience to fill the letter, to
make it as full and interesting as time and circumstances would
allow ; thus letters were a social power, as much so as personal
intercourse. They were read aloud for the general benefit,
when their subjects permitted it. The family was fortunate in
some clever correspondents; friends, living in a remote par
sonage, with the post reaching them but twice a week, but
full of the keenest interest in what was going in the world and
in the new books coming out ; with an insight, too, into bright
social life, as well as the religious thought of the day. Looking
back forty years, Dr. Mozley wrote, on reading an old letter
from this parsonage, sent to him to recall some incident : " It
was quite a treat to read a letter of Mrs. Wayland's ; such per
fection of statement, the thought so full and clear." His eldest
sister Jane, who died young, and to whom many of these letters
were addressed, wrote good letters, and was complimented on
her Eichardsonian style. If it be asked how the art of letter-
writing may be fostered, perhaps here may be found some
answer, though in James Mozley, of course, the gift was there.
With him, if he took a pen in hand, it was to think ; whether
the subject were persons or things. A name suggested thought
about the bearer of that name. His earliest letters show the
beginning of the habit ; but naturally, when a boy, he accepted
the judgment of others ; and many of the following letters
are given more as records of Oxford in his early days, than
for any felicity of thought or expression. As time goes on
nothing is more entirely his own than the judgment, whether
of passing events or of character, that is found in his letters,
to whomsoever addressed.
James Mozley was born at Gainsborough in Lincolnshire,
September 15, 1813; his father removing his family and
business to Derby in 1815. In seeking records of James
in the early family correspondence, it is really necessary to

4 Introduction.
include other names in the revival of so distant a past. As
the eighth child of eleven, he has to take his chance of
mention in the letters of the more important members of the
family. Thus his name closes the mother's happy letter to
her eldest daughter at school in Kensington in 1820, who had
written, with great depth of feeling, an account of her con
firmation by the Archbishop, and the previous examinations
and preparation : —
"The impression your confirmation appears to have made
on your mind, could not but afford us the most heartfelt
pleasure. It is a ceremony too little thought of in the present
day. ... It is now five years since there was a confirmation
in Derby. James was by when I read your letter; when I
had finished, he exclaimed with great earnestness, 'I should
like to see Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury.' "
In a later letter (let it be borne in mind it is a young mother,
married at seventeen, writing to her daughter at school) : —
"We have given up all thoughts of sending Charles to
Merchant Taylors' — he is too old to be on the foundation, and
consequently cannot derive any future advantage from it. We
are told if a boy at eight years old could read the Latin Testament
and Ovid's Epistles, he might stand a good chance at Merchant
Taylors'. I fear this is what none of my family will ever
accomplish. Mine are not early blossoms. Perhaps James
might be forced to this, but I think no probable advantage
could compensate for the risk of sending so young a boy from
home. From eight to twelve is a time in which a great deal
of good or bad may be instilled into a child, and I fear he
is more likely to acquire the bad amongst boys, unless he
have some fixed principles of his own to make head against
evil examples."
Probably it was because his elder brother Charles was
already placed there, that James at nine years old  a " pretty
little fellow," as his brother in after years recalled him—
was sent to Grantham Grammar School, then under a Mr.

Introduction. 5
Andrews. Whatever control of temper Mr. Andrews ever
possessed — and my brother Charles said the boys always
regarded his punishments not as judicial, but as ebullitions of
temper — was now rapidly on the wane, and circumstances, and
something in James himself, were adverse to a good mutual
understanding. A school-fellow, looking back, after reading
of Dr. Mozley's death, says, in writing to my brother Arthur,
" I remember him well ; he was very sensitive, and our head
master, an excitable man, did not treat him judiciously : "
going on to speak of his sharp, sarcastic tones. On the same
occasion of the revival of old memories, another school-fellow,
then in failing health, recalled him, as my sister Maria writes
in 1878:—
" He asked me if James was living, and I told him we had
just lost him. ' Oh, then it was his death I saw in the papers '
(he had not been sure it was the same clever little fellow
he remembered so well at school). 'He was such a clever
little fellow; he knew more at ten than any of us, but
the boys bullied him; they were jealous of him, and I — .'
'Well,' I said, 'I hope you did not bully him?' 'No! no!
I tried to protect him from them — you see they were jealous,
and he was such a clever little fellow ! ' "
These memories throw light on a passage in his letter to
me when at school near London ; showing what he meant
by " masters." Grantham, April 1, 1826.
I often think how much more agreeably you spend your
time than I do mine, since I 'm surrounded on every side by
masters. So I think I may complain in the words of the
Psalmist, " many oxen are come about me, fat bulls of Basan
close me in on every side." . . . School boys have very seldom
much news to tell. We hear just as much about banks break
ing and failures, as if we were shut up in the Black Hole of
Calcutta.

6 Introduction.
At the end of 1 826,1 his mother writes to James : " It gave me
great pleasure to know you were in the First Class m Latin.
We have no doubt you will be so in Greek soon." It was this
forwardness that no doubt suggested to his brother Tom at
Oxford, the idea of his trying for a Scholarship at Corpus,
when only thirteen — an idea most delightful to the schoolboy,
which stimulated his mind to great exertion, and would make
school life more irksome to him than ever. This proposal
coming from a brother, an undergraduate, may account for the
growth of irritation on Mr. Andrews' part ; he might feel him
self, as the time drew near, second in estimation and authority,
and be tempted to revenge himself, as his position enabled him
to do. I give the correspondence between the brothers as at
least characteristic of both, and perhaps a little out of the
common in fraternal correspondence.
In the spring of 1827, James writes to his brother, on hearing
from home that it was settled he was to try for the Corpus
Scholarship : — March 30, 1827.
Dear Tom, — This letter, I assure you, however selfish you
may think me, is entirely for my own interest. I have just
now been in to Mr. Andrews, and what he told me was this:
that I was to do as much Homer as ever I could, that I was
* The year 1826 is distinguished in the home correspondence by the intro
duction of a name that has had a large family influence as well as an influence
since widely felt in the world. James Mozley's brother, Thomas, the third of
the six brothers, went from Charterhouse to Oriel in the spring of 1825.
The first mention of the name comes without any addition or comment:
" Jelf, my tutor, is gone to Germany with £000 a -Boa- . w • *""""."
in his i.lace " Then A mil <>K , Soe Z i ¦ , y ' Newman is appointed
in ms place. 1 nen April -8, 1826, to his mother : " I have at W had an
interview with my new tutor, Mr. Newman wk „ f last natt an
on the subject of themes, and gave rn7™^^7 *?¦ ^ g°°d a?™e
written by Whately, who is a^mous maThere ^ 1^ I! " ^r^
year, before the Long Vacation, writing to hfs father ^ 5? ' "* *
tutor, has been very attentive and obliein* »„Vi Newman, my new
good advice. He has requested me to consider T. f^ T abuudance of
and instruction I require for my course Tre^di™ 1 / T^ information
what books to take up, and he will have a little condensation0 *° dete™ine
the vacation." "-""versation with me before

Introduction. 7
to learn, and that well, as much Horace as I could ; I then
mentioned the theme — that that would go a great way if written
well. He said I might do a theme two or three times a week,
and also said that if I did it without grammatical mistake, it
was all they could expect. Now although Mr. Andrews must
know what I ought to do very well, yet I confide in you as
much, if not more than in him. So I beg you will write as
soon as possible, and tell me all you know about it. I think
that Greek verses are to be composed by those that try. I
shall therefore be required to know how to do them in some
way or other. I have not done a single Greek verse in my
whole life, much less an epigram, which I think is the hardest
thing to be done that can be. I also told Mr. Andrews that
Euripides and Demosthenes, and all kinds of works were set
before us. But he said that the ground-work was the chief thing
with me, and that if they perceived that I knew Homer and
Horace well, they would of course think that in time I should
be able to do any other book well. Now while I am writing
this letter, I 'm thinking — " Let me see ; Virgil, Horace, Homer,
Cicero, Demosthenes, Sophocles, Euripides, Menander! How
can I be able to know all these ? " But that you may know that I
have learnt something from reading Xenophon, I remember that
once Cyrus forbade his soldiers the use of too many weapons
(taking away the arrow and javelin, and leaving only the sword),
for fear that having so many things to attend to they should
know very little of the use pf any of them. It is the same, I
think, with me ; for if I tried to learn something of all these
books, I am afraid I should know very little of any. But
when you write to me you will tell all that I 'm to do — how
to write my theme, and how to make verses, both Latin and
Greek, particularly epigrams: I have not the slightest idea
how to put the salt, as they call it, in epigrams. I shall also
want some books to tell me everything I ought to have, and
what you think I can't get here send in a parcel from Oxford.
I am asking a great deal too much of you. Hear, then, the
highest degree of my selfishness: I should like to go up to
Oxford about a week before the time. I would then write you
a theme, and what you might think proper ; you would also

8 Introduction.
open a Horace and Homer, and other books in a place or two,
and see how I get on. If you think well of this, I wish you
would write to mamma about it, but if not 1 11 drop it, but
not without some reluctance; write, however, what books I m
to read. I should like to have a Greek Gradus, if there is
such a book. . . I have not the slightest expectation of gaining
this, but I should like to get through my examination as well
as possible. — I remain, your affectionate brother, J. B. Mozley.
To Mr. James Mozley, the Rev.  Andrews, Granthain
Lincolnshire. Oriel, Friday, April 27, 1827.
Dear James, — I am sorry I could not answer your letter
earlier; you must take up with the excuse of my College
Collections, which have really occupied all my time. In the
first place, let me recommend you to acquire, if you can, a less
boyish hand ; if you set up for a forward boy you must have
a forward hand. I have had a letter from home in which they
ask my advice about your coming to Oxford a week before the
time. I have assented, so I suppose you will come, but
remember you must expect to be kept very close till the
examination ; for a week's wandering among fine buildings and
such novelties will have a dreadful effect in driving all your
learning and your verses out of your head. If you can't see
how this is the case you must take it for granted. I know it
is the case. I suppose Mr. Andrews is in the main right in
what he says about the theme; but a theme must contain
something, and a great deal more than the themes you gave
me last Christmas. In an English theme at least they expect
more than grammatical accuracy.
The best, the easiest, and most natural way of acquiring
ideas is reflecting on all the facts you hear or read of, all the
incidents either in poetry or history, and trying to 'draw a
moral from them— that is, considering of what common failing,
or propensities, or what virtue are they instances. This will
appear at first quite childishly easy, but if you store up these
morals in your head, with the instances from which you drew

Introduction. 9
them, you will turn them to great account when you happen to
have a thesis given you on the subjects. The same method
will do for getting a stock of similes. I mean that whenever
you see or hear anything beautiful or curious in the changes of
nature to consider what actions or passions of mankind may
be compared to them. This will at first appear stupid work,
but remember that although, when your thoughts are engaged
on some interesting fact, it will seem rather dry labour search
ing for a moral application, yet when you are writing a moral
essay you would find the interesting fact come in much to
your satisfaction, and appear very beautiful. But it is not only
from the facts of Nature, etc., that you should draw similes.
The ancient mythology and fabulous history is a very fertile
field. Indeed, they are even supposed by some to be allegorical
representations of moral truths. Lord Bacon wrote a book to
prove this, and, whether he succeeded or not, he showed great
ingenuity in applying moral truths to them, and the consequence
was (mind James), that one of the greatest beauties of his
essays and other writings is bringing in constantly beautiful
similes from those fables. As instances of what I have said,
if, when reading of Narcissus, I added : " Thus the man who is
conceited of his talents, by doing nothing but admire himself
sinks into insignificance ;" or in the story of Atalanta, if I said :
" Thus the great mind, by stooping down to the temptations of
riches or honour, fails of the nobler end of existence ;'; or if in
reading the story of Memnon's Statue (I mean the music that
always sounded at sunrise), I said : " Thus all the types and
prophecies of the Jewish dispensation remained silent and
obscure till the light of the Christian revelation fell upon them"
— all this you would think very dull prosing. But it would
come in very beautifully, when you were writing about a con
ceited man, to say "he becomes an intellectual Narcissus,
pining away in the comtemplation of his own merits;" or, in
talking of the desire of fame, to say, " like Atalanta, he loses
the race by stooping for the golden apple ;" or, lastly, you would
think a dissertation on the Jewish rites somewhat enlivened by
this simile : " They are like the statue of Memnon, which con
tained some musical chords so artificially wrought that when

10 Introduction.
the morning light dawned on the statue they were no longer
secret and silent, etc." If I were not in a hurry, and more
over, confined for room, I could give you a thousand such.
As for Epigrams, don't trouble your head much about them;
but if you happen to see a good English one, or happen to hear
a good repartee, or a good story, it would be useful practice to
put it into a two-line or four-line Greek Epigram. But don't
make a regular exercise if it ; depend on it, the Examiners don't
go by Epigrams. I should think, as Mr. Andrews says, they
go by Homer and Horace more than anything else. You
should prefer getting up a little perfectly and grammatically to
a great deal tolerably. Because, of course, the examiners make
great allowances when you have not read the passage (which
they always inquire), and yon would be rather mortified if,
when the passage was pointed out, you found that you had
read it, and therefore could not get the credit of a first sight
construe, but had not read it enough to construe the better for
it. Besides, remember that closely studying a small quantity
will, of course, of the two give you the greater grammatical
knowledge, and a better memory for the words, and, conse
quently, better prepare you for first-sight construing. Most of
the books you mention are in the same dialect, so that learning
one book must enable you to read the others. After every
lesson recall all the words and new constructions, and you are
going on all right.
So far from sending a Greek Gradus, I strongly advise you
never to use a Latin one — only when you cannot possibly
find out the quantity any other way; never for any other
purpose. I would collect all the words of difficult quantity
I could think of, look them out in the gradus, and learn
off all the lines quoted as authority, or else any line you meet
with in your reading. You will thus have a gradus in your
head ; and remember in the Corpus examination you will be
locked up in a room, with nothing but pen, ink, and paper. I
would also strongly advise you to use your dictionary as little
as, possible. Scaliger, one of the greatest scholars that ever
lived, used neither lexicon nor dictionary; but if, after lon«
trying, he could not find out the meaning of the word by its

Introduction.

1 1

context, he kept it in his head till he found the word again,
and again tried it by its contexts, and so on, till he discovered the
meaning. I would advise you to learn by heart two or three
hundred lines in Latin and Greek, and when you are writing
in those languages, and in want of a word to express your
meaning, run over these pieces (let them be prose as well as
verse), till you find a word. You will find this difficult at first,
but it will gradually become an easy substitute for either
gradus or dictionary. Go on the principle of keeping as much
in your head as possible, and trusting nothing to books and
paper. I assure you, James, you have a good chance. I know
several instances of great boys coming from the first forms of
their schools and being beaten by some sharp little fellow from
the lower forms, whom they had before laughed at. If the
great boys you talk of are as old as seventeen, they must show
something very extraordinary, or they have not much chance.
— Yours affectionately, Thomas Mozley.
Oriel, 17th May 1827.
Dear James, — I have delayed answering your letter longer
than I intended, but I think it would do you no harm to leave
you to your first instructions some time before I send any
more. I am afraid you are learning too much by heart. I
would advise you to learn no more, but frequently run over
what you have already in your head, and use it instead of a
dictionary, till you have every word at a moment's notice.
Thus, when you have to translate anything into Latin or Greek
prose or verse, and come to a difficulty for want of words,
immediately consider in what passage which you have read or
learnt would these words be probably used. It is from not
adopting this practice— I mean the practice of ranging over your
stores in search of good words and expressions — that so many
men have read half the books in the Latin language, and yet
can scarcely find words to express the simplest idea. There
is, I think, no better plan of learning to write Latin than
translating loosely into English each day about a dozen lines of
Cicero, laying your translation by for a week and then re-

1 2 Introduction.
translating it into Latin, and afterwards carefuUy comparing
your Latin with Cicero's original ; but remember this will be
of little use if you do not store up in your memory each day
the differences between your words and expressions and
Cicero's, the probable reasons why his are better, and the
general rules which you can discover by examining Cicero ; and
if you do not each day consider what assistance you can derive
from your former labours. Do not omit this trouble at any
rate, — if you find it too much with twelve lines translate only
six. On reading over your letter I cannot help thinking you
are learning by heart too much ; certainly too much for apply
ing to it all the rules I have mentioned above. Bemember it is
a thing of the most vital importance that you should continue
to attach a pleasure to your studies ; that you should think
of them not only in school but in play hours and in bed.
Whatever a person forces himself frequently to think of, he
will soon like.
As for your themes I have already said much on the
subject: but, by way of general advice, remember always,
especially in English themes, not to consider how your thesis
applies to the Greeks and the Bomans, or to tyrants or
conquerors, and not to talk about " the avaricious man," " the
cruel man," " the idle man," " the sensual man," " the ambitious
man," etc. etc., but consider how it applies to yourself, to your
own secret wishes, your day-dreams, your studies, the things
that cause in you pleasure and pain — your intercourse with
your school-fellows, the causes of your various feelings towards
them, your friendships, your hatreds, your envyings, your
f eatings, etc., their conduct and feelings towards each other,
their parties, the idols of the school, etc. Be always examining
your own heart and your own mind, and endeavouring to
describe in words your internal feelings. I think there is no
boy in England who would not soon have something to say
on any given subject if he did this, instead of going off to
Alexander and Socrates, and to similes of lions, and hawks,
and ships, and rivers, and, worse than all, to stupid scraps of
Horace and Virgil ; for mind, James, whenever you find a good
thought in another writer do not quote it, but express it in

Introduction. 1 3
your own words with some attempt at improvement. Keeping
in view all these directions, I would advise you to use always
some such plan as this, which is recommended by one of our
greatest Oxford writers : Make the four parts of your theme
the answers to these four questions. 1 . What is the state of
the case — how in what cases, in what feelings, in what men,
etc. etc., is the thesis true ? 2. What are the causes ? — whence
is it so ? 3. What are the consequences of this being the case, of
these feelings being indulged in, etc. etc. ? 4. What practical
conclusions can be drawn from what has been asserted in the
three first parts ? what causes of injury are to be repressed ?
what things apparently harmless are to be avoided on account
of their consequences, etc. Or, to be brief, 1. What is the case ?
2. Why or how is it ? 3. What follows ? 4. What then must
I do ? You will perhaps find some difficulty in applying this
rule to all subjects — you can, I know, to most — but, pray,
always ask yourself the questions. I would advise you also to
attend to your prose more than your verse ; prose is infinitely
the more difficult of the two. I will give you a few rules
which have frequently been given to me. Aim at diffuseness,
and do not care if your Latin is twice as long as your English.
In Latin always give the connection of the sentences, whether that
connection mark the cause, or the consequences, or the confir
mation, or the instance, etc. etc. Do this whether you find the
connection expressed in the English or not, for remember that
very frequently where we understand the connection the Bomans
express it. If you cannot find one Latin word to express
your meaning, use several ; avoid as much as possible using
adjectives without their substantives, especially in the nomina
tive case ; for remember that a Latin author will scarcely ever
use a nominative case when he can bring in any other, and
will scarcely ever use an active verb when he can alter the
construction so as to supply its place with a passive.
Be continually breaking your words in sentences, and using
every circumlocution you can think of. Indeed, you will
sometimes not be able to translate an English sentence into
Latin without giving in the Latin a full-length definition of
.every English word. Avoid all abstract terms ; I mean such

1 4 Introduction.
as honesty, virtue, humanitas, etc.— at least it is safer to do so.
Be particularly on your guard against being deceived by the
similarity of Latin words to English ; for instance, " vitiosius,"
which I find in your Latin does not generally mean "more
vicious," but " more rotten," and " communius " does not mean
" more frequent," but more equally common to certain persons.
" Genus " means sex "in propria quse maribus," but nowhere else.
Then I entreat you use a dictionary as little as possible, and
when you do look for a word be sure you know the exact
meaning you want to represent.
My father says that you must not go by London, at least
as you go to Oxford, as that will infallibly drive all your Latin
out of your head. I think that is true. If you cannot see
yourself how this can be the case, you must take your father's
word and mine for it, for there are many things which are
perfectly true which yet could not be explained to you. — Yours
affectionately, Thomas Mozley.
May 22, 1827.
Dear Tom, — I received your letter this morning. You appear
from your letter to think that I have learnt all those lines off
by heart, but I assure you I have only learnt to construe them.
I shall do what you advise about writing Latin, for I really
wish to know how to write it very much. I should like to see
a specimen of your composition ; I don't think 1 ever have.
I assure you I don't think learning such a trouble as you
imagine. I think I 'm very different from what I was in this
respect, when two or three holidays ago I used to hate any
kind of learning, and be always going after novels. I do a piece
of Homer now with pleasure, except now and" then when I 'm
rather impatient. You '11 see how I shall fag when I get up to
Oxford. ... I wish you would put the sentence about going
in a postscript by itself, that I may show it to Mr. Andrews,
and there may be no fuss about it. Put it with mamma's and
papa's authority, for I can tell you yours won't be enough with
him. ... I declare I don't like Andrews at all. Every time
I construe to him, he tries to put me in a passion by mocking
me, but I always take it very coolly, with a smile of scorn

Introduction. 1 5
and disdain. You have no idea what a sensation I feel when
I construe to him ; to be mimicked and derided, I cannot bear,
and I don't think any of our own family ever could. I
think you will pardon me if I wish to get away as soon as
possible. Early in June he went up to Oxford ; the result is told in
the following letter : — Oriel, June 15, 1827.
Dear Mother, — James has not got the scholarship, but I
am sure you will, or at least ought to be, much better pleased
with things as they are. There were seven candidates, all of
them about 17 or 18. James had been several times praised
by the examiner ; I believe the only one who was. When the
thing was settled this morning the examiner, on bringing the
news to the successful candidate (one Overton of Louth school)
who was standing among the rest waiting in the quadrangle, told
James the President (" and Eellows, " James desires me to say)
wished to speak to him. James accordingly went into the
chapel, where the President and Eellows were, when the
President told him they had been much pleased with his
examination, that he had passed the second best, and would
certainly have been chosen but for his extreme youth ; since, on
account of the number of vacancies in the College, he would be
obliged to reside immediately after Christmas, which they said
would do him great harm. It would indeed be ridiculously
young. They then told him there would be another vacancy
for Lincolnshire in about two' years, when they hoped he would
try. James was, as you would perceive, the only one to whom
this was said, and, from all that I hear, the examiners never
reject any one whom they have advised to try again. This, you
will see, is a far more convenient time than now, if, indeed, that
be not rather too young.1
James returned to school after his trial at Corpus in a state
of mind to find his life there more irksome than ever. His
1 He did not, however, stand again for Corpus : there was no election at
the time expected.

1 6 Introduction.
master seems to have shown a certain triumph in his dis
appointment, as we gather from the recollections of a school
fellow; and was in a temper to exasperate his somewhat
unsettled pupil. Mr. Andrews' letter to his parents at Christ
mas of that year greatly disconcerted his mother. His brother
had written from Oxford : — " I hope you will not be troubled
by Mr. Andrews' report of James, as I think it very probable
that he either thinks ambition the best of all motives, or that
he has not thought on the subject at all — and that if he cannot
see anything in James to remark and to commend besides
ambition, it is his fault, and not James's." The state of things
was so unsatisfactory that Mrs. Mozley was exceedingly anxious
for James's removal from Grantham. His father, who was
disposed in all such matters to take the master's side,1 and who
might probably be unwilling to remove a clever boy from a
school which had good exhibitions, was difficult to persuade.
At length, however, it was settled to give notice of James's
removal at Midsummer.
In later days James Mozley used to contrast the boy's return
to school of modern days with his own remembrances. Never,
however, making allusion to the troubles these letters reveal,
only how miserable the winter journey and all connected with
the return used to be. It is as showing the influence upon
character of this trying period, the deepening and giving reality
to life, that the following letters are given. The sight of
Oxford and his brother's friends ; success in the College examina
tions, as far as the examiners' approval went ; the self-reliance .:
and hopes thus received ; a new sense of power and intellect
imparted to the boy of thirteen, followed by all this school tribula
tion and the home anxieties attending it, told with force upon
^fli. Andrfws.had been recommended by very competent authority to
ml fffTt S S°me 7rra f°re thU date-a»d t« own experience of
school had been a very happy one. He had been a favourite with hi«
master the Rev. William Grey— afterwards Minor Canon of t* i a
had left school with regret when called away to the business of life

Introduction. 1 7
him. Trouble realised and dwelt upon in childhood and early
boyhood, where there is power to grasp it and dwell upon it,
leaves indelible marks on the character and manner. It is to
illustrate this that we have dwelt upon this period.
His sister Jane writes to him on his return to Grantham : —
Derby, February 5, 1828.
My dear James, — Mamma is desirous that you should be
written to, because she wishes you to write soon to say how you
are going on. As you are in rather peculiar circumstances
this half year, we wish to keep up a regular and frank corre
spondence, which I can tell you is the only way of making
mamma tolerably easy, for she is very anxious about you, and
it is only from your letters that she expects to have any comfort :
let them, therefore, contain your genuine feelings and a candid
account of your proceedings. I know that yours is no easy
task. You have not only to keep a strict watch over yourself,
but you have to bear the strictest and not always the most
charitable scrutiny from your master  He wrote a most
indignant letter in answer to papa's notice for your removal at
midsummer, and I expect he will be cold and harsh in his
conduct to you ; but let not this discourage you in a resolu
tion, I was very happy to hear you had made before leaving
home, to try to regain Mr. Andrews' good opinion. You
must not mind your endeavours to this good end being mis
understood, as they may probably be ; but persevere not only
for your own but mamma's sake, who suffers on your account
a degree of anxiety which hardly a life of duty and obedience
on your part will repay. You do not, you never can, know
how deeply you are indebted to her. What struggles she has
had to go through for what she has conceived to be your good.
Therefore you should bear a great deal for her sake alone, even
setting aside other motives ; do not disappoint her hopes which
have always been sanguine that there was that in your charac
ter that would, with your maturing sense, overcome the self-
willedness and other faults which perhaps you are less aware of
than those about you. I do not wish to tease you with a
sermon, but I think it my dufy to tell you there is this anxious
B

1 8 Introduction.
feeling for you at home, and that you will probably be most
narrowly watched at school. . . . Yours affectionately, Jane Mozley.
James's answer follows in a few days : — February 11, 1828.
Dear Jane, — I received your letter last Wednesday, which
I assure you gave me much comfort, and so far was I from
thinking what you said a teasing lecture, that I thought upon
everything you said, and determined to do, as far as laid in my
power, everything you advised me. Mr. Andrews called me
into the parlour Saturday before last, and told me what he had
written to papa ; it would be no use my recounting what
he said, as you know, I suppose, what he wrote ; but I have
not passed many such miserable hours in my life as those
which I passed after that. I was continually imagining and
making conjectures of what his letter would cause at home,
and what a hardened rebel I should be thought there. But
most of all I feared the agitation it would cause mamma. I
have said nothing more than what I felt; and very seldom
were my feelings so much excited as they were then. I received
papa's letter last night ; tell him to be assured that I will do
my best to gain Mr. Andrews' good opinion. I can say with
truth that I have not any bitter feelings towards my master
hitherto ; and I hope I shall pass the whole half year as recon
ciled to him in my own mind as I am now. Tell mamma to
be assured that I will restrain myself as far as is in my power;
I daresay you think this an odd sort of a letter ; but I feel as
if the power of expressing what I felt was gone. I go on now
as other boys do, and am treated in the same manner. I have
nothing more to say— I remain your affectionate brother,
J. B. Mozley.
From his Mother.
My dear James,— I hope you are going on weU in all
respects ; I have been sadly troubled about you. Mr. Andrews'
letter made me perfectly wretched, and I have scarce been well
since ; I cannot help being in constant fear of some new com
plaints. There is always much to dread when such tempers as

Introduction. 1 9
yours and Mr. Andrews' come in contact. You must be con
stantly on your guard, and let the recollection that you have
not to stay very long bear you up under any fancied ill-resent
ment. Your papa would scarcely ever forgive your being sent
away from school, and, depend upon it, Mr. A. will not bear
much from you, knowing, as he does, that you will leave him at
the end of the half-year.
[A few days later he writes :] February 18, 1-828.
We had a letter from Tom yesterday ; he has read another
theme in Hall. He does not seem much disposed to give up
writing them till he is obliged ; I am afraid they will take him
too much time. [This refers to the question of his reading for
honours.] Your papa has had a letter from Mr. Parker, of
Oxford. He mentions Tom. The Bishop of Llandaff asked
Mr. Parker if his son knew Mr. Mozley, of Oriel; and then
went on to praise him in the most unqualified manner ; talked
of all his acquirements, and, more particularly, his English
composition. He said " it was not only superior to any young
man's at Oriel at present, but superior to any he ever remem
bered there." You may be sure we were all highly delighted
with this. Your papa seems to think more of it than of any
thing of the kind he has ever met with. I must leave Maria to
tell you all the.home news, for I am very much engaged to-day.
Hoping to hear a good account of you soon, I am, my dear
James, your anxious mother, Jane Mozley.
James left Grantham in the summer of 1828. When Dr.
Arnold was appointed to Rugby, his brother Tom advised his
being sent to that school. Cheltenham, February 10, 1829.
My dear Mother, — You must be uneasy at not hearing
from me about James, and are, perhaps, thinking of letters mis
carrying, and such accidents ; but I have not received a letter
either from Mr. Joyce or Mr. Arnold, who opened the school in
person yesterday week, and ought, therefore, to have written to
me long since. I don't know in the least what to do ; I had a
long conversation with Mr. Newman about James the last time

20 Introduction.
I saw him, but he could give me no assistance whatever. He
said that he had been placed in exactly the same dilemma
when he was fifteen, and had been sent to College at that age,
merely for want of a better means of disposing of him.
When Dr. Arnold did write to T. M. it was to decline his
brother on account of his age. I recall the term used—" super
annuated." James therefore remained at home, under the
tuition of the Bev. James Dean, until he went to Oriel.
The year 1829 was marked by what was felt a great family
event — my brother Tom's election to a Fellowship at Oriel.1 One
of the first acts of the new Fellow was to send for his brother
James to stand for a Fellowship at Trinity, for which, however,
he proved too young to stand. James reports, with character
istic easiness, that Tom, having not yet got rooms in College, gives
up his bedroom at his lodgings to him, constructing a bed for
himself out of an easy chair : " This he prefers to a regular bed;
for, being left to his own devices, his mind, he says, is so easy
and comfortable that he is apt to sleep longer than is quite
proper." Tom, on his side, conveys to his mother his estimate
of James's personal advantages — his growth and fine looks, in
terms that cautiously veiled his admiration: " What a prodigious
fellow James is grown ! I think he is improved in appearance,
He does not lounge or heave, or roll, or hulk quite as much as
he did."
1 His sister Jane was from home at the time. She acknowledged the
letters which had brought her the news with characteristic appreciation of
the honour of an Oriel Fellowship in those days, and disregard of mere
pecuniary advantage. Two letters in the same hand had given her a
moment's alarm : " The idea of good sudden news never occurred to me, so
it was with much trembling that I opened the one that bore the greatest
marks of haste. 'Any bad news?' asked Mr. H. and M 'No mod;'
but that was all I could say for a few minutes, and when I did say that my
brother was elected Fellow of Oriel, they would doubtless wonder that I
could be so transported, the magic of these words being unknown to thefc I
Mr H very naturally asked what the Fellowship was worth-^Af V
quite stared ; hardly comprehending the connection of pounds, shillings,^!
pence with the high honour of an Oriel Fellowship." 8'

Introduction. 2 1
May 18. — James reports that it is ascertained that he cannot
stand at Trinity, sixteen to twenty being the ages for candidates
to offer themselves : —
" Tom, however, says it was not so much for a scholarship
that he sent for me, as that I might read with him. ... I
called on one of my Lincoln friends to-day, and heard rather a
gloomy account of Grantham school. . . . The school is falling
off, there being now only thirty boys, and many of those going
to leave soon."
As a testimony to his school teaching, as well as his early
ability, it should be noticed that James must have been forward
in every way, as well as well grown ; for I gather from a letter,
dated December 9, 1829, that his brother was endeavouring to
effect his admission to Oriel in the beginning of next term — at
the time when James was sixteen years and three months old.
He gives to his mother the details of a call on the Provost
(Dr. Hawkins) on this subject, and the many difficulties he
interposed, of which it does not seem that age was one. He
had pleaded that, as he should be in residence in Oxford, his
brother might be with him in the lodgings he occupied, before
entering upon rooms in College. December 9, 1829.
I talked over the matter afterwards to Newman, and when I
had done he instantly said : " But don't you see, Mozley, what
his objection was?" I thought for a moment, and then it
suddenly occurred to me that my brother entering on such
reasons implied that I should certainly be made a full Fellow.
Newman said,, of course it was ; and told me a story of Froude
going to the late Provost, while probationer, and asking for
rooms, when the Provost (Copleston) repelled him with indig
nation, and fretted and fumed for weeks after. It is, I must
acknowledge, of great importance to keep up these suppositions,
or by and by the Fellows would scarcely be able to reject an
unpleasant probationer. Term ends on the 1 4th ; before which
day all matriculations for next term must take place. I shall

2 2 Introduction.
stay in Oxford till that day for the chance of a vacancy, and
James must hold himself in readiness to start for Oxford at a
moment's warning, though, I confess, I have not great expecta
tions. I 'shall probably stay a few days further, as Sam
Wilberforce is coming up for his ordination.
Bonamy Price has got, or rather at this moment is getting;
his Double First with uncommon Mat.
The idea was given up — or came to nothing; — and the
brothers corresponded, T. M. sending James geometrical' pro
positions to prove, which James returns : —
From his Brother, T. M. March. 24, 1830.
I fear it will cost you some labour before you can learn the
art of Deduction. For I would have you to know that the
geometrical practice I am giving you is but one particular kind
of process, which you will constantly have, and use in all kinds
of knowledge. You do not seem to feel (as far as I can judge
from your, three proofs) the necessity of referring accurately to
certain truths already proved. This is a matter of great
importance, both for confirming and rendering accurate in your
memory what you have already learnt, and because in all exer
cises of this kind in Oxford, whether written or spoken, the
utmost verbal accuracy is always required.
Then follow instances. To this letter James replies with" a
becoming humility, exercising upon himself the analytical vein
which made his subsequent studies of character remarkable.-
March 31, 1830.
My dear Tom,— I write, though I have only one proposition
prepared. The first proposition that you speak of in your
letter is indeed very badly proved, as I saw afterwards wheal
looked at it. And what you say in general about the looseness
and vagueness of my demonstrations, I think I understand
now, though at first I could not. If a problem is regarded
merely as a riddle to be explained (and that certainly is its

Introduction. 2 3
most amusing form), vagueness and indistinctness of expression
must follow. And, as it is very difficult to prevent this ; parti
cularly as I know little of Euclid. I have not sufficient know
ledge of Euclid for it to be a separate department in my mind,
so that it is mixed up with my powers of investigation in
general. This looking upon propositions as riddles is no more
than what I have to combat against in almost everything I do.
It is seizing upon all the interesting eminences and outlines of
a subject without caring much how I connect them together,
and hoping to understand the whole by catching at the
general spirit of the history. For in this sense a proposition
may be called a history, as well as a narration of events. Both
in history and mathematics, it is curiosity which causes all
this haste and negligence.
James Mozley entered on his first term at Oriel, October 1830,
when he was just 17 (his birthday, Sept. 15). His brother's
letter that speaks of his plans, etc., contains a notice of the
difference among the Oriel tutors, which was exciting attention.
T. M. to his Sister Jane.
Oriel, December 3, 1830,
Dear Jane, — . . . All sorts of rumours have gone abroad
respecting the differences among the tutors, and it has received
a most amusing variety of versions. It has been described as
a strike for advance of wages or more pupils, which of course
has fitted well into the probable falling off of the College conse
quent on the Heresy : at Tunbridge, a friend of Christie's was
told, the junior Fellows had combined to turn out the Provost.
For my part, I think it no more use trying to send abroad a
correct account of it, for it is not easy to make it obvious to
the meanest capacities, and everybody now-a-days seems to feel
himself justified in contending that to be truest which is the
most consonant to his understanding. Besides, it is not to be
expected that any one, for the mere love of truth should be
knight-errant enough to fight with blockheads about a few
tutors, when it would be much easier to amuse them with
something brief, intelligible, and false.

24 Introduction.
Newman's mother and sisters have returned for the winter,
and taken a cottage at Iffley; I met them last week at
Whately's. James has ',made up his mind to go home at
Christmas ; ... he will doubtless be more communicative in
College matters now than six months hence, when the freshness
will have faded from his mind. ... I take it there is httle
doubt of H. Wilberforce being elected here [to Oriel] next
year, for there is no one yet talked of as likely to stand to com
pare with him. He is considered almost sure of his double
first, and as likely as any one to get the new Mathematical
Scholarship next June. — Yours affectionately, T. M.
About this time my sister Jane's health became an anxiety
and a leading family interest. The eldest daughter, born when
her mother was nineteen, she was from the first a power in
the family. Her clear bright intellect, love of study, and ready
powers of argument, eager temperament, social charm, and
grace of person and manner, all gave her influence in the home
circle, and constituted her the " star " of the family among our
friends. The Derby riots, in 1831, were a trial to nerve
and health. I was up-stairs on the third floor with her when
the roar of the advancing mob gave us a moment's warning,
followed as it was by a shower of stones, dropping with heavy
thud from step to step of the upper flight of stairs. The
brothers down-stairs, closing shutters against the missiles pelt
ing in, found the excitement amusing. James happened to be
taking a walking tour in the Peak, and regretted the fun.
Nobody was much frightened, except the mother, nervous for
everybody ; but a house open in its whole front to the chill
October night air was ill suited for delicate chest and lungs,
even for a night, and told upon the invalid. My brother Tom
was really the object of the mob's wrath, as he has intimated
elsewhere. After the Christmas vacation, spent at home, James
returned to Oxford, and writes to his mother the current news)
on Church affairs : —

Introduction. 2 5
Oxford, February 1832.
Dear Mother, — . . . What do you think of B. Wilber
force being made Bishop of Calcutta ? There is a rumour got
afloat ; I don't know what foundation there is for it. Tom says
it is brought down by some Balliol man. There is nothing so
very improbable about it. The Bishopric has generally had
to go begging a considerable time before any one will take it,
and now, with the example of three Bishops in succession
dying, each within two years of his appointment, it is not pro
bable that its attractions should have increased. Of course, for
all the influence the situation has, ministers would not care
whether they gave it to one of their friends or enemies. Be
sides, Lord Brougham has for a long time been toadying Mr.
Wilberforce, and he would have a considerable share in the
disposal of such preferment.
Bulteel is progressing ; he has published an account of three
miracles of his own performance. One of them was in the
case of his own sister-in-law, Miss Sadler, who had been ill a
long time from some nervous disorder that kept her to her bed.
He effected her cure by constant praying, and now she is, I
believe, in good health. There is nothing very wonderful in all
this. The prayers were going on in the room next to hers, she
being all the time aware of it, and every one knows the
influence, of imagination in such cases as hers, which seems to
have been a mere fanciful disease, as she always had the
external appearance of good health. I don't know the other two
miracles. Bulteel's sincere belief is that there is a new system
of things in the course of revelation now, as there was in our
Saviour's time, and that God has given him the power of work
ing miracles for the same reasons that He gave it to the apostles,
in order to convince unbelievers. He has also in this book
declared his belief in the miracles going on at Mr. Irving's
chapel — the unknown tongues, etc. There can be little doubt
that Bulteel is partially deranged : I should not be much sur
prised if, before long, he attempts miracles of a more obvious
kind, as curing blindness. These absurdities of his may
possibly work some good, as showing the state that men come
to when they choose to cast off all restraint. One man who

26 Introduction.
used to be a constant attendant at his church, abuses him now
without the smallest hesitation. . . . Dornford has expressed
great indignation at the report about Wilberforce, and talksr
about juniors and seniors and undue exaltation, etc. Froude,
the Fellow, is at home with a very bad cough.
The subject of the following letter relates to an affair of great
parochial interest connected with the law of pews, in which my
father had been concerned, and into which my brother Tom
had thrown himself with ardour : —
To his Brother. Oxford, May 9, 1832.
Dear Tom, — Henry Wilberforce only went away this morn
ing, so that I have been able to see something of him. . . . One
subject that we hit upon is rather interesting to us. He
immediately asked me whether yon had been writing a strong
pamphlet against the Bishop of L. and C. I knew pretty well
to what he was alluding, but I was considerably surprised at
the matter having got to his ears. However, he quickly let
me know that he was acquainted with the grounds of the re
monstrance, the arrangement of the pews, and the parochial
quarrelling that had followed. It seems he had been dining
at the Bishop's, where the subject had incidentally been
brought out — I don't know by whom. The Bishop, he said,.
had acknowledged himself to have been in error. The notion
they had about the authorship was that you had written one
half and my father the other. Eyder had read it through, and
he came to this decision. The first part he attributed to you,
because it dealt so much in general principles, and also bore
some similarity to what he knew of your style of writing. He
had liked it very much, on the whole. Wilberforce asked, me
point blank how much was written by you. This was rather a
hard, driving question; I made rather a bungling answer. He
wished very much to see the pamphlet, and thought my father'
might as well send him one. I had one in my desk all the.
while, but as I did not know how far I might venture to lose

Introduction. 27
sight of it, I did not say anything about it. — Yours' affection
ately, J. B. M.
Two months later his letters are full of the election for
the: Sanscrit Professorship, for which Mill and Wilson were
candidates. To his Sister. March 9, 1832.
Newman, Keble, Ogilvie, Pusey of Christ Church, are all
indefatigable in their labours for Mill. The contest will be a
very hard-run one, and whoever succeeds will get it by a few
votes. I have all this from Newman. By the by — [the passage
is given not in the least for its truth, but as reporting the under
graduate impression of ladies, at all out of the common routine
in intellectual pursuits and advantages] — Newman is going to
introduce me to his mother and sisters. The Miss Newmans
are very learned persons, deeply read in ecclesiastical history,
and in all the old divines, both High Church and Puritanical.
But notwithstanding this they are, I believe, very agreeable
and unaffected. In fact, to have such a brother as Newman is
a sufficient pledge of their carrying off their learning well. I
walked out with Newman the other day, and had a great deal
of talk, as you may expect, on things in general — political
events, political men, political aims. I see more of him now
than ever I did. I read an English theme in Hall yesterday.
The subject was Curis acuens mortalia corda, which means
" Sharpening with care the minds of men." I wrote chiefly
on civilisation. You may not perhaps at first exactly see the
connection, but when taken with its context it is very much
that subject. The word ' civilisation ' has a very political
appearance about it, but of course while in statu pupillari we
do not meddle with politics in public exercises. . . .
Some most puritanical-looking pamphlets have come out
lately in the Balliol controversy; one against Bulteel, from
one of his former friends, is entitled, " A hard nut to crack,'"
and an answer has come out, " The Nut-cracker."
Eariy in 1832 his brother Tom had engaged himself to Mr.
Bound's curacy at Colchester. James writes that he had shown

28 Introduction.
his letter to Mr. Newman, who was always anxious that his
friends be up and doing : —
" I saw Newman to-day ; he is very weU pleased with Tom's
curacy, and thought it would do him a great deal of good. He
was particularly amused with his having to write two sermons
a week." Colchester, however, little suited my brother Tom's health ;
the work, into which he threw himself with great ardour,
and the climate, and other things combined, reducing him
presently to such a state that doctor and vicar were equally
thankful to send him off to Teignmouth; where his eldest
sister had been taken by her mother, to try the benefit of the
famed Devonshire air. He looked like death when he came
— that is, as if he had come to die, and at once recovered
health and strength as by a miracle.1
1 No such wonders were worked for the invalid for whose sake the
journey was undertaken, though there was such amendment as led to the
hope that a favourable turn had been taken. James had been anxious that
the occasion should be used as an opportunity of seeing Oxford on the route.
" I shall have the greatest pleasure in lionising yon." It was thought best
to take Oxford on the return journey — a delightful arrangement for Jane,
but one that tried her strength more than she expected. The short entries
in her Diary show the effort it was to her. Yet it cannot be regretted that
she was by this means brought acquainted with the Newman family, and
that thus a link connects her with the new influence which had such an
effect on the family life ; though Jemima, Mrs. Newman's second daughter,
soon to be one of us, happened not to be then at home. Our party was
most kindly received by Mrs. and Miss Newman, as well as by our brother's
friends ; all showing the mother in what high regard and value her sons were
held. As a testimony to the singular personal influence of the two friends
whose names were then associated, and the effect their look and bear
ing made on observers, I give a little extract from my sister's diary:—
" Saturday, July 7.— Newman and Froude to breakfast. Striking entrance,
the whole not to be described. " The introduction of two gownsmen of such
marked individuality, such unconscious dignity of aspect, with a sort of
historical look about them, very naturally made its impression on ladies
to whom everything was new and inspiring, who were the more open
to impression for not having been prepared for this greatness of aspect.
Others, no doubt, read in Jane's looks more than we, who were thinking of
her as on the way to recovery Much feeling was shown. The last entry.
recording the kindness of my brother's friend, Mr. Christie, ends, " All soon
followed-tea, and pleasant talk of Wordsworth-always repent of whatl say.
-Farewells : all seems now over in Oxford." She might have written

Introduction. 29
The following letter to me from my brother Tom, now in
charge of Moreton Pinkney, bears on the state of things he
has elsewhere described as immediately preceding the move
ment of 1833:—
T. M. to A. M.
Oriel College, December 22, 1832.
My dear Anne, — They are all here making up their minds
to expect the very worst things. There seems no difference of
opinion between Whigs and Tories as to what is coming — they
are only blaming one another with having brought it on. The
measure of Church Eeform drawn up by Brougham and
Lushington is to go beyond the expectation of aU parties —
it is to be a measure of equalisation embracing as one of its
least important parts a change in the manner of collecting the
ecclesiastical revenues. Ministers mean to keep it to them
selves till ready, and throw it out to be carried by popular
clamour without any alteration being allowed — in the idle
hope (or rather pretence) that it is to be a " final measure." The
Bishops have been met some time at Lambeth about it, and it
seems generally understood that they are even more unanimous
and decided than about the Beform Bill. They are most of
them prepared, if it seems fit to the leading ones, and occasion
seems to require, to resign their offices — and this they would
be glad to do before they are embarrassed and stultified by
concessions. The Whigs in London are quite horrified at the
result of the Irish elections. In all Ireland there has not been
one returned on their side. They are all Bepealers or
Conservatives. Now, of course, the Bepealers will be glad to
support the ministers in every work of destruction.
The opening of the year 1833 was saddened by the death
of Jane Mozley, which took place in February. Shortly after,
James Mozley escorted her devoted friend, who had passed
further, " All is now over for me of general intercourse with society," for few
more opportunities for conversation with new and fresh minds were allowed
her. The last seven months of her life were spent in her own room — first
as a precaution, then as a necessity.

30 Introduction.
several weeks with her, back to her home. From thence' he
writes of meeting a leading, active member of the Liberal party,
expressing himself at 19, with a strength which amusingly
contrasts with his guarded, tolerant tone of later years, towards
those who differed from him in opinion, wherever difference of
opinion admitted of indulgent construction. April, 1833.
Dear Maria, — . . . This reminds me that I must tell
you something about Mr.  . . . He is a regular built
modern London barrister, and march-of-mind man, profoundly
indifferent to exclusive systems of belief, withal very conceited.
I suppose, however, he is a clever man ; he has a good deal
of humour and some wit, and plenty of anecdote and conversa
tion ; he has breakfasted here once, and dined twice. He is
as you may have heard, a friend of Lord Brougham's, and
an active member of the Useful Knowledge Society. This
intimacy with Brougham evidently gives him great satisfac
tion. . . . Tom Macaulay is another intimate friend of his.
some of whose good stories he has given us ; " very lucky mam
that Macaulay ; he lives a great deal with the saints, and has
capital things to teH of them." Can you imagine anything
more disgusting than this style of thing ? Here are these men
who before the world cry up the saintly party as the only
religious people in the kingdom, and who really think they are
so, turning them to ridicule in their own private circle. Mr.
 knew Arnold, and has been acquainted with his schemes
for some time. Arnold, he thinks, is one of the boldest men in
the kingdom. His scheme of Church Eeform, however being
this, is not practicable at present. There is not sufficient
religious feeling m the country to carry it. Did you ever
hear humbug equal to this ? . . . Yours affectionately,
j.'b. M.
Here these introductory pages come to a natural conclusion,
the date of the last letter showing us to be on the verge of the
Oxford movement, with its rapidly maturing influences

LETTERS.
The stir of thought which issued in the Oxford movement
had already told on James Mozley. His interests were Church
interests. The return of Mr. Newman from abroad, Mr.
Keble's 1 Assize Sermon, and the Tracts which followed in due
course, kindled in him, as in so many ardent minds, a zeal
which found expression as it could. All who felt with the
chief actors in the movement were admitted to the privilege
and charm of their confidence, and derived energy from their
example. The letters all report progress, and show one pre
dominant interest. Oxford, July 12, 1833.
Dear Tom, — Newman has at last come, and is looking very
weU, much better than when he went, and considerably tanned
with his exposure to the southern sun. He landed at Brighton
from Dieppe, and reached Oxford on Thursday. Frank
1 In James Mozley's family the Christian Year had long been a household
book. His brother T. M. had sent it, soon after its publication, to his sister
Jane, with these words : " I should wish much that you would give a little
study to the book I enclosed in the parcel. Study, perhaps, is too harsh a
word, and savours too much of the dry critic. But, pray, do something or
other with the book, and then tell me what you think of it. You may, with
safety, declare any judgment you like, for I do not know poetry on which
there are such various opinions. Some think it will outlive all other human
poetry whatever, others that it will be unheard of fifty years hence ; some
think it simple, others far-fetched ; some think it only requires a little pure
feeling for the most unlearned to enter into it, others that it is utterly un-
construable to every one, and probably to the author himself ; some think
it breathes the pure spirit of ' our dear Mother Church,' others that it
bears the 'mark of the Beast.' But if I would attempt to tell you all that
has been or can be said concerning it, I must take up Johnson's Dictionary
and go right through it, taking every epithet and coupling it with its
opposite. — Oriel, May 2, 1828."

32 Letters of the
Newman arrived the same day — a singular coincidence. It
was only by a most fortunate train of accidents that Newman
was able to come as soon as he did. The coaches from Paris to
all the ports from which there are steamers to England were
full. And if one of the passengers to Dieppe had not happened
to vacate his place, he would have been detained some two or
three days. By several pieces of good luck like this, he
has travelled almost continuously the whole of the way from
Palermo. Though looking well now, he was ill for a consider
able time in Sicily. He stayed three weeks at Palermo waiting
for a vessel to Marseilles, and dreadfully tired he was of the
place. The Sicilian language is a dialect of Italian, but so
different, that it was almost unintelligible to him. There were
only three or four English residents there, and those merchants,
fully occupied with their business, so that though they were
very civil to him, and asked him to dinner and so on, yet
by far the greater part of his time was spent in complete
solitude. There were no books for him to read, none at least
that were at all interesting to him. The English are very
much looked up to there, both from the idea the Sicilians have
of their wealth, and from gratitude for their conduct in the
late war. Froude has just told me that Newman was most
dangerously ill in Sicily, of a violent epidemic fever. At the
time he was taken ill with it, there was no medical aid at
hand. By one of those singular caprices which people in
fevers sometimes take up, he fancied himself able to walk some
way — he did walk a few miles, till he completely sank down,
and was carried into a hovel. While lying there a physician
happened to go past, and by his care he was so far recovered
as to be able to reach the next town, where he got regular
medical advice. But his life was still almost given up for
three or four days. Perhaps the illness, on the whole, may
have done him good. Slight weakness is all that now
remains. . . . You will now think of coming up. Newman,
now that he is once back, does not intend to leave Oxford in a
hurry, so all his friends who wish to see him, must come to
Oxford. Perhaps you 'd as well come in harvest-time, as that
seems, by all accounts, to be a time when clergymen can do

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. Z2>
nothing in their parishes. Newman wishes to see you very
much.— Yours affectionately, James Mozley.
To his Sister. Oxford, Sept. 3, 1833.
With this letter you will receive a considerable number of
tracts, the first production of the Society established for the
dissemination of High Church principles. Of course you have
heard of this new thing set up. If I recollect right, however,
Froude's letter was written at the first starting, not that there
is much additional news to tell you about it; we must be con
tent to wait patiently the effects of agitation. Answers, how
ever, have been received from some quarters, and on the whole
favourable. Keble has heard from Davison, the writer on the
Prophecies — a great name, by far the most talented, I should
think, of the old school of Oriel lights. He approves of the
thing, though how far he is ready to go I have not heard. Then
Ogilvie, he is a great addition, for his approbation implies that
of the Archbishop too — it being a rule with him never to
advocate any opinion or any proceedings which at all disagree
with the Archbishop's views. So scrupulous indeed is he on
this point, that he has narrowly escaped being classed with
the timid party ; by the timid party, meaning not those who
are willing to concede, but those who are afraid to' make a stir.
The" Archbishop [Howley] is thought here to be a man of first-
rate principle, and one who would rather lay his head upon
the block than commit himself to a connivance at a single
unchristian measure which our present legislators may choose
to adopt ; but he has also been thought too deficient in active
courage, to take an important part in public affairs. Perhaps
he will show better when it comes to, — and Ogilvie joining
himself is a good sign. Then Eose too has sent in his attach
ment to the cause ; ^he will be a most valuable member, and will
puff and blow about it in fine style in the British Magazine when
the Society is fairly estabHshed. But for the present you must
remember aH these details I have been going through are secret.
What do you think ? — you will accuse me of vast imprudence
and perhaps impertinence, but — I have sent a sheet of Tracts
c

34 Letters of the
to Mr. M. N, communicating to him at the same time the
news of the formation of the Society, and asking him what
he thinks as to the advantage of such pubhcations being
distributed. . . . The fact is, we must not be very scrupulous
as to views or particular as to sentiments in the distribution of
these things. Newman heard from Froude the other day. He
was in high spirits when he wrote. His theory, he said, as
to Parliament having been a lay synod before the repeal of
the Test Act, and being now therefore completely changed in
its constitution with respect to the Church, took very well. . . .
You ought to know, by the by, that Newman is the writer of
aU the tracts I send you ; Keble has written two, but they are
not printed. Of Newman's things the two most important, as
you will perceive, are the one on Ordination, and the one on
Irish affairs. . . . Yours affectionately, James Mozley.
In acknowledging the packet of Tracts his sister asks who is
to distribute them ; and adds, " it answers more my views of
the Society, to circulate them all through thes clergy. Therefore
Mr. Dean has had nearly aU ours." Oxford, September 20, 1833.
My dear Anne, — We muster rather strong at present in
Oriel. Tom, Golightly, Blencowe are up, and Marriott has been
up, but is now gone. You know, of course, what the meeting
is about — the new Society. I cannot say, however, that this
particular subject has been much talked about, or that anything
new has been proposed, or that any more form and system has
been given to the Society than it had before. However, it is
something gained if people see one another, and discuss general
topics that bear on the particular one. Actual business, it must
be confessed, goes on rather slowly ; but this must always be at
the commencement of any work. The manifesto is not yet pub
lished, and perhaps may not be for some time. It is now under
going Bose's examination. Keble's Tract, too, has only just
come out; and I know it was in the press more than a week
ago. When the former is printed I will send it you, together
with some more Tracts, as you say more are wanted. What do

Rev. J. B. Mozley, D.D. 35
people about you say of the style of these Tracts of Newman's ?
Blencowe says that some to whom he has shown them think it
rather affected — I suppose from the sentences being so short,
and so often interrogatory. One is not very much surprised at
this in people who don't know Newman. Not that there is any
ground for the charge of affectation, but the style is certainly
singular, if one reads them (the Tracts) without bringing in
one's personal knowledge of Newman.1 X. finds some fault
with them on these accounts, and says they look exactly like
literal translations of the epistles of the Apostolical Fathers —
but this is X.'s way. I don't believe he is thoroughly satisfied
with anything throughout, except his own, of which he has very
considerable admiration. He is an uncommonly good fellow,
nevertheless, with all his conceit, and is now so brisk and active,
arguing and unfolding his sentiment, and laying down the law
in the most amusing manner. I don't know how it is, there is
nothing in his conceit that at all offends one. It suits him so
weU, and is in such beautiful proportion with the rest of his
character, that one would Clearly pronounce him deficient in
something or other if he was without it. He has "been corre
sponding, as I told you, with a clergyman in Ireland, who turns
1 This question on the subject of style was answered at once : —
" September 23, 1833.
" Dear James,— ... It is both singular and disappointing that I have
heard no remarks upon the style or contents of the pamphlets themselves.
Mr. Dean and Mr. P. [the two active agents] seem to know what they are
about, and, I suspect, put off the trouble of reading to a more favourable
opportunity. Perhaps I ought not to say Mr. Dean ; but I know Mr. P.
does. One person, but I don't know who, said, I believe, that the style
was not like Newman's, thereby showing he knew nothing about it;
for it is, I think, most characteristically like him. He enters upon his sub
ject in the first Tract — ' I am but one of yourselves — a Presbyter ; and, I
therefore, I conceal my name, lest I should take too much on myself by
speaking in my own person. Yet speak I must ; for the times are very ,-
evil, yet no one speaks against them ' — with the same humble, quiet \
manner with which he enters a room before one is aware. I understandj
quite what Mr. X. means; there is certainly something uncommon in
it ; but this, I think, is a recommendation, as it excites attention." The
letter goes on to protest against some strong language James, in the ardour
of partisanship, had used towards Mr. N. M., a gentleman who had pro
tested against Keble's sermon : " It is not from a man with such a training
that you ought to expect much, and, therefore, you should not be angry
when he merely acts as he might be expected to act."

36 Letters of the
out to be Mr. Magee, who has just wi'itten that address to the
clergy of Waterford. It is an extraordinary coincidence (as he
has fully impressed upon me) that this address was written at
the very time that X.'s letter reached him, recommending that
very proceeding. He read to me the other day the answer he
received — a very noble and affectionate letter — though com
plaining, perhaps, rather too much of the apathy of the English
clergy. What he says is very true; but the Irish clergy
have made of their own accord most culpable concessions to
Government, and so have themselves chiefly to blame, if their
order falls into contempt. ... I read some of N. M.'s letter to
Newman, and he was far from setting him down as a hopeless
case. Newman now is becoming perfectly ferocious in the
cause, and proportionately sanguine of success.1 " We '11 do
them," he says, at least twenty times a day — meaning, by
" them," the present race of aristocrats, and the Liberal oppressors
of the Church in general.
He is now in London superintending, I suppose, the publica
tion of his^ book [The Arians\ which is now printed. I have
read a page of it here and there, as the proof-sheets came down.
Full half of it is introduction, which is advantageous on the
whole, as it touches on subjects which will soon come under
public discussion — creeds and articles, etc. Parts of it are
exceedingly hard to understand, owing to the subtlety of the
Arian doctrines, and consequently of the orthodox answers to
them. The declaration of the Society is at last printed, but not pub
lished. Before that takes place it has to undergo innumerable
criticisms, in addition to the six weeks' discipline and correction
it was subject to before it was printed. It is completely
different from the one originally proposed by Keble— a copy
1 This passage curiously illustrates the description the author of the
Apologia gives of his state of mind at this precise date : " My behaviour
had a mixture in it both of fierceness and sport. They [certain acts] were
the fruit of that exuberant and joyous energy with which I had returned
from abroad, and which I never had before or since. I had the exultation
of health restored and home regained. ... I was amid familiar scenes and
faces once more. And my health and strength came back to me with such
a rebound that some friends at Oxford on seeing me did not well know that
it was I, and hesitated before they spoke to me."

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 37
of which, I suppose, Tom sent you — and not half so interesting,
though, I suppose, much more prudent. Mr. Hook, of Coventry,
I believe, has had the chief hand in it. Then Eose, Palmer,
Ogilvie, and a dozen more besides, have had a finger. Many
cooks spoil the broth. People should remember that there is
one important question which cannot but considerably affect
the usefulness of the most prudent and nicely balanced publica
tions — i.e. whether it will be read or not. Of course this single
manifesto, being a dry affair, is not of much consequence. But
a question has been raised whether all the tracts that come
out in the Society's cause ought not to be the production of
a committee, or at any rate be submitted to their altera
tions. Newman is against the theory, on the very obvious
principle that intense stupidity cannot fail to be the principal
quality of pubhcations sent out under such circumstances.
. . . There is — Tom has of course told you — a synod to be held
here in the middle of November ; it is particularly important
that as many as possible should attend. If you want any more
tracts I will send you plenty. You need not be so over-scru
pulous as to the way of distributing them. Laymen are not
excluded from having a voice in the Society — far from it. It is
important that this should be understood.
To his Sister. February 1, 1834.
My dear Anne, — The election of the Chancellor took place
on Wednesday, and went off, as was expected, without opposi
tion. As usually happens, however, on such occasions, people
are now making up for their inactivity beforehand, by grum
bling at what has been done. They say now that the Duke
certainly was not the man — they have been taken by surprise.
The Liberals declare they 've been cheated, and many of them,
Denison among others, affirm that they would have preferred
the Archbishop, so the end of it is, nobody is satisfied. It
really seems a great pity the Archbishop was not proposed.
The majority of the country clergy would certainly have
voted for him. However, when Keble and Newman put
his name forward privately, which they did, some little time

3S Letters of the
ago, it was received with such coolness that no blame can
attach to them for not having pursued the thing further,
though many now begin to ask, Why did not you propose the
Archbishop? ... I don't know whether Newman told you,
when he was at Derby, that he was going to stand for the
Moral Professorship ; he is, and has a tolerable chance of suc
cess if things go on as they are — for at present he is the only
candidate. The Duke of Wellington was- always an interesting study
to James Mozley. He liked to detect traits of nature in the
great man, through all the ceremonial- to which his greatness
subjected him. To his Sister. Maria.. February 15, 1834.
My dear Maria, — . . . The chief subject of news that I can
think of at present, is the Chancellor's official dinner-party in
London, some of the details of which I have heard from those
present. The Duke, I believe, cut rather an extraordinary figure
in his Chancellor's gown, which is a very stiff and academical
kind of robe, and which, moreover, had been made rather too long
for him. However, he performed his part to the satisfaction of
the company, and only made one false quantity on delivering
his Latin speech, which was a very good one, and quite to the
purpose, though it is conjectured, from various circumstances,
that Dr. Bliss, the Eegistrar of the University, had a good deal
more to do with the composition of it than his Grace. Some
judges of character who were present are of opinion that the
Duke, though a most inflexible person in his general cowse of
conduct, does not carry his coolness at his fingers' ends in the
way many great men do ; since in the delivery of his speech he
betrayed something not unlike confusion and awkwardness,
and on one occasion addressed himself in energetic language to
a servant who had made a mistake about a bottle of wine.
The Duke had all his presentation plate on the table, as well as
the Dresden China which the King of Prussia had given him. . . .
So far so good. The only blotch in the whole affair was the
presence of the Duke of Cumberland, who made no scruple'of

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 39
swearing every other word he said; and moreover subverted
the order of etiquette by himself proposing the Chancellor's
health, which properly belonged to the Vice-Chancellor to do.
Lord Eldon was present in great force, and quite unable to
abstain from talking about his consistency, while compliment
ing Dr. Kidd in a very short but enthusiastic speech, which
no one understood till it was over. Lord Eldon is coming
down with the Duke to the Installation at the end of next
term. Oxford, I suppose, will be more gay than it has ever
been since the visit of the Allied Sovereigns.
It is generally thought that the Church is looking up again.
A year ago Ministers put forward definite designs against
Church property. All these seem to have vanished. Articles
are appearing in Badical journals proving that the House of
Commons, reformed as it is, is fast losing its authority ; and
that when a party now has anything to accomphsh, it does not
address itself to the House of Commons, but to the public.
The address to the Archbishop is not given as an instance of
this, which is rather unfair ; for it is in its more general
character an unequivocal instance of a cause being effectu
ally strengthened without any communication with the
governing powers. Newman was closeted the other day two
hours with Dr. Bouth of Magdalen, receiving his opinions as to
his work, which were very complimentary. Kaye, Bishop of
Lincoln, has had a correspondence with Bose about it, particu
larly on the point of the Disciplina arcani, which is a subject the
Bishop himself, Newman thinks, has touched in certain letters
in the British Magazine, signed " Philaletbes Cantabrigiensis."
. . . Yours affectionately, J. Mozley.
It must have been after the two hours' colloquy mentioned
in this letter, that Dr. Bouth used to speak of that " clever
young gentleman of Oriel, Mr. Newman."
To his Sister. Oxford, March 15, 1834.
Newman is not Moral Philosophy Professor, as you will
probably have seen by the papers. Hampden offered himself

4-0 Letters of the
the very day before the election; and, being a Bampton
Lecturer, and an Aristotelian, and a Head of a House, and a
Liberal, and, moreover, a stupid man in his way, he was of
course the successful candidate. It is a pity the thing has
turned out so, if it was only for the title-page of Newman's
volume of sermons, which has just come out. Of course you
will get it, if you haven't already.
The new Marriage Bill is making rather a stir here ; Newman
and all his party declare it to be quite unecclesiastical to give'
out the intention of certain people to enter into a purely civil
ceremony during divine service, and in church. A small meet
ing was held to discuss the subject in Newman's room last
night, at which it was resolved to get up a petition against it;
and Harrison of Christ Church (the English Essay when you
were at Oxford), has been intrusted with the wording of it. I
see from a letter of Tom's to Christie, that John is thinking of
something of the kind at Derby. It seems to me to be just the
thing to petition about. It gives so little satisfaction to any
party, that almost anything would upset it. Indeed Lord J.
Bussell has almost said as much. I suppose none of you think
of coming to Oxford at the Commemoration. Newman has
suggested to me one of my brothers coming. As Charles was
invited at Derby, I should think this invitation of Newman's
alludes more particularly to him. What does Charles say to
it ? The proposal, in my humble opinion, is not to be sneezed
at. I dined at the Newmans' the other day — very pleasant;
music, etc. etc. We had a splendid sermon from Sewell, of -
Exeter College, at the assizes, on the Origin of Evil. Not one
person in the church understood one sentence of it. Sewell
had threatened his friends with a metaphysical discourse on
that occasion. According to M  's definition it certainly
was sufficiently metaphysical, and that was the only sense in
which any one in the church could be sure it was so. Half the
University are going up for Firsts. I am most unfortunate in
my time. I have now got into that swing of reading, that if
I had half a year before me, I think I could almost make
myself sure of my first. I am conceited enough to think
this. But it is a very different case when one has only a

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 41
few weeks. After three years of idleness it is very long before
one can chain one's-self down to a fixed course of reading. To
be sure, you will say I ought not to have been idle ; very true.
— Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
To his Brother John.
Oxford, June 16, 1834.
My dear John, — The installation has passed off very well.'
The only mistakes being the Duke's false quantities, which were
treated very indulgently. The Duke himself, whether it was
that his face was lighted up by the joyfulness of all about him,
or whether he looked as he always does, I don't know ; but his
face had certainly a much kinder' expression about it than I
had expected to see. I should say that, dressed in a Court dress
of black, with his Chancellor's robe on him, he was the most
respectable-looking old gentleman I ever saw — not to mention
any loftier qualities. He has a face that would suit any situa
tion and character. In lawn sleeves, I have no doubt, he would
look the most episcopal person on the Bench. He was evidently
sometimes much affected by the enthusiastic cheering he met
with, if one can gather anything from a certain tremulous
motion in the mouth, which is a very sensitive part. The
cheering, by the by, was more tremendous than anything I
ever heard. The theatre was like a bell going. We all of us,
of course, sported the most correct principles on the occasion.
We hissed, groaned, and laughed at Dissenters, Whigs, Lord
Grey, and his family in office. The people from London must
have been astonished at finding themselves in a Tory mob. The
feeling displayed will probably influence many in their votes
in the House. One M.P. present, who voted a month ago for
the Dissenters' Bill, has declared that, seeing the strong feeling
in the University against it, he shall consider himself justified
in not continuing to give it his support. The Duke, at a dinner
at St. John's on Thursday, said that what he had seen here had
put the thing in a new light to him ; upon which the Duke of
Cumberland stood up and said that he was glad to hear the
Duke make such an avowal, as he was a person always to follow

42 Letters of the
up what he had said. The Duke of Cumberland is the most
grisly monster I ever set eyes on. He is fearful to behold. No
wonder such odd stories get about him, like ghost stories about
a gloomy house. He was well received, however, and I was
glad of it. Old Lord Eldon was in the theatre the second day.
Henry Wilberforce has gone down with Tom to Moreton
Pinkney, for two or three days. . . . Froude is staying at Bar-
badoes, and going on very well there. . . . Yours affectionately,
James Mozley.
In the Long Vacation of 1834, James was one of a reading
party, so called, in Wales, under Mr. Mitchell of Lincoln
College, and writes home, — where Miss Newman was then
paying her first visit, — at the close of his stay : —
To his Sistee. September 12, 1834.
My dear Anne, — I am very happy to feel myself, with Tom,
the joint cause of keeping Miss Newman amongst you a few
days longer than she might otherwise have stayed. It has
been raining here almost continuously for the last month, and
the harvest is all but ruined. . . .
The gaiety of A. has at last come to an end, much to the
disgust of many of our party, who now intend leaving as soon
as possible. I intend leaving this day three weeks and going
straight to Oxford. The gaiety has terminated chiefly from
want of people to carry it on. Such has been the zeal of all,
that I don't think any other cause could have stopped it.
But the beauties of the place, the two Miss C.s, left yester
day. Two other beauties from C. are leaving to-day, besides
numerous other departures. Things now look like Oxford
in the Long Vacation. The Cambridge men, I think, I once
told you, were remarkable for their matrimonial tendencies on
expeditions of this kind ; well, they have carried off the palm
this year, though they are only two to our ten; ... at least
so it is reported on the best authority, though nobody knows
how they intend to manage after the fatal stroke, for neither of

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 43
them possess an atom of money. On Tuesday there was an
evening party at Mrs.  's, which was to be a kind of break
up, all intending to leave the next morning. Two of our party,
who were favoured with an invitation, declared that towards
the close of the evening the scene became quite affecting ;
absolutely tears, pocket-handkerchiefs, and everything that could
be desired on such an occasion. Wednesday being a rainy day,
none left — so there was a second winding up at Mrs.  's, to
which we all went, myself amongst them. We had no second
edition of the tears, but we nevertheless had a very pleasant
evening and very good singing. . . . Yours affectionately, J. Mozley.
This reading party was in preparation for the final examina
tion, which resulted in a great disappointment. A first was
what was reasonably hoped for ; nothing less than a second could
be contemplated, and a third was the upshot.
From his Sister.Friary, November 30, 1834.
My dear James, — I hope you don't break the seal with any
apprehension of a home lecture coming upon you as a sort of
appendix to your present mortification. I write because I feel
tempted to give you my sympathy as soon as possible, and to
assure you that some of us at least are not " immeasurably dis
gusted " with what we must consider your failure. It would
have been an injustice to you not to feel very considerably dis
appointed at first, because I think that both from your reading
and natural abilities we had a right to expect more from you ;
but the battle is not always to the strong, even supposing you
were well prepared, and as Tom always lays the blame of any
failure on the whole family, not on the individual, I suppose
I must console you by saying that the family genius is not
made for examinations ; being too slow and deliberate — unable
to call up its resources at a moment's warning. I shall, however,
indeed be very angry with you if you allow yourself to despond
on this, and do not rather consider this ill-success as a proof of
the necessity for greater system and method in your reading.

44 Letters of the
My view is (but yon may very justly think I know nothing
about it) that you ought to read next year as much as you have
done this last, and with more method, and then you may still
have a good chance for a Fellowship, on which you know I had
always fixed my affections for you. December 1.
I wrote so far last night. ... I find I have not mentioned
either papa or mamma. You can guess, just as well as I can tell,
their feelings on the occasion. Mamma said she had a right
to feel very much disappointed at first, because she knew that
in a day or two she should get over it and think no more
about it. Papa is not very fond of talking on the subject, but
he will, very cheerfully, on any other, and fell asleep after
dinner just as comfortably as usual. So, on the whole, things
are rather better than I expected. . . . Yours affectionately,
A. M.
To this letter is appended a little postscript, from a younger
sister : " My love to you — though you are floored. — F. M."
To his Sister. Oxford, December 4, 1834.
I have now received full and particular accounts of my third
from different sources, all quite authentic. Cox, one of the
examiners, told Christie that on Friday night (the class list
came out on Saturday afternoon) my name was definitely down
on the Second Class list. One might fancy that a settlement at so
late an hour was surely a final one. However, the next morning
it occurred to them that there were some men in the second class
very little inferior to those in the first, and that, therefore, it
was not fair to them that mine, with some other names, should
appear with theirs. Accordingly the next morning they sent for
me again, and gave me a piece of Latin. If I had been quick
over it, it all would have been right. As it was, from natural
slowness, together with being considerably fagged with the
former day's work, and also an over-anxiety about being correct,
the vim voce, too, dinging in my ears all the time, I am free

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 45
to confess, as M.P.s say, that I was a very considerable time
about it — more than three hours.1
This passage is given to illustrate that "slowness" which,
under certain trying conditions (only), was a characteristic of
his mind, and which told against him in examinations. February 16, 1835.
My dear Anne, — . . . Newman is particularly desirous of
having some pamphlet on Suffragans written, and caused Dr.
Burton to be sounded on the subject the other day. Burton,
however, did not see it — he had written pamphlets enough,
he thought. Burton has some reason to be cautious, as he is
within an ace of a bishopric ; as he is, he is just of all others, the
man for the present Ministry — respectable, but not very strong.
Newman does not write himself, because he thinks a pamphlet
does no good without a name, and he is modest enough to think
that his own is not sufficiently weighty. Eose has taken
Arnold under his peculiar protection. In an appendix to his
Durham lectures, he bestows several pages of comment on
Arnold's advice to young clergymen, appended to his third
volume of sermons. Arnold's advice goes to discarding all con- .
troversial works, which, he insinuates, have proceeded for the
most part from men of " feeble and prejudiced minds," and sub
stituting in their place Bacon and Aristotle, and such writers
as expand the intellect.
. . . [After a list of names of men engaged to be married]
Froude himself is beginning to joke about matrimony. He
says in a letter to Christie, " There 's nothing left for you and
1 The following sentence, in a letter from home, shows that he did not
allow his disappointment to weigh too strongly on him : —
"December^, 1834.
"... I think you have done wisely to set about something new ; as fresh
hopes, and objects of interest, reconcile one to the past more than all the
thinking in the world. I am quite ready to believe all said about the
examiners and their system, though I shall abstain from talking to other
people of the reasons that have prevented your succeeding as you ought to
have done ; because the world is apt to put "its own construction on the
most profound reasoning that can be brought forward on such occasions.
Mamma wants you to come home as soon as you have got all you wish out
of your great folios."

46 Letters of the
me but to marry ; for a wife sticks to you, but a friend may cut
and run." This is a. conclusion to certain complaints about
friends not writing to him. He was heard from a few days
ago. I read his letter to Newman ; the first part is somewhat
desponding, but he recovers his spirits toward the end. His
cough, though not entirely gone, has gone off considerably. . . .
The Cambridge undergraduates have subscribed and made up
a prize for the best account of Coleridge's System of Philosophy,
open to the whole world. We here look certainly very small
in comparison with such great doings. I had Hamilton to my
rooms the other day ; he is acquainted with many Cambridge
men, and says their opinion of Oxford is, that we are gentle
manly, but shallow. Have you seen the Autobiography of a
Dissenting Minister? It is a very amusing thing, though
vulgar, rather. If you wish to have the wbole series of Tracts,
they are published now in one volume. . . . Mr. Philip Pusey is
suspected of a leaning to Badicalism, because he said he would
grant the Dissenters all that a conscientious Dissenter could
ask. It would take some time to find out whether this is
sound or not. It is an ingenious way of putting the thing.—
Yours affectionately, James Mozley.
To his Sister. Oxford, March 11, 1835. ,
... Sir Eobert Peel, as yon know, has thrown the
burden of resisting the Dissenters entirely on the Universities,
merely pledging himself not to force any measure on them.
Accordingly, the Heads of Houses are expected shortly to
take the subject into consideration. How their deliberations
will end is not known, but it is feared they will propose
substituting a declaration instead of a subscription. Newman
was told by Pusey the other day that the Bishop of Exeter
had come over to this view. His (N.'s) remark was that he
liked seeing men come out in their true character. It signifies
little what the Heads of Houses do, except so far as the name
goes, if they only give a sufficient interval between their
motion and the Convocation meeting to allow of bringing up

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 47
the clergy from the country. These latter are most useful on
such occasions, as, having but little actual connection with the
University, they are not influenced by the same motives of
expediency — the wish to keep things going — that many of the
residents have. However, I should not fear much if the matter
were left to the resident M.A.s.
Newman's pamphlet on Suffragans will be out immediately.
It is astonishing the speed with which he composes ; and that
when he has a dozen other things hanging on his mind at
the same time. It is certainly a good illustration of Bose's
maxim, that those who have most to do are the fittest
persons to take in hand any new work. The second volume
of Sermons is also coming out. He dedicates it to his friend
Bowden — an old college friendship — I think the author of
a Tract by a Layman. We had a long discussion over the
wording of the dedication the other evening. I have no more
marriages to tell you of. The future Mrs. Keble is at present
a Miss Clarke. I hear nothing of her, except a doubtless
calumnious assertion that she is a blue-stocking. He, Keble,
gave a most agreeable poetry lecture the other day, proving
Homer to be a Tory (shall we say Conservative ?), and finally
stating reasons why it was that all real poets were Tories. It
is a pity you are debarred by the language from either hearing
them or reading them, should they be published, which doubt
less they will be.
The assizes have been going on here lately — the judges,
Park and Coleridge. The latter is an Oxford man, a friend of
Keble's. Park's extreme respect for the University, not exclud
ing even the junior members of it, was most amusing. One
University man was brought up by an impudent javelin man,
in open Court, for having made a disturbance in trying to
force his way in, on which the following dialogue took place :
" My Lord, I 've brought up a man for  ." " A man, sir ! A
gentleman, you mean, I suppose." " My Lord, he was making
a disturbance  ." " Sir, he was claiming his rights." " So,
my Lord, I took him by the collar  " " Collar, sir ! what
business had you to take the gentleman by the collar?" So
the javelin man, in spite of all law and justice, was obliged to

48 Letters of the

&

give up his captive, who was forthwith assured by old Park
that he need not disturb himself at all about the matter.— Yours
affectionately, J- B- Mozley.
At this time James Mozley was engaged on the English
essay. I was visiting Mrs. Newman at Bosebank, and wrote
to my mother, "Mr. Bogers was saying yesterday that Mr.
Bridges had reported James's essay to be a very good one ; the
meaning was brought out clearly ; and Mr. Newman said
'James certainly brought out his meaning very admirably in
some things he did for us at the examination.' This is great
praise from such a good and sincere judge."
To his Brother, T; M.
" My labours are now finished. I gave in my essay — that is,
I put it through the nick in Dr. Bliss's door at six o'clock on
Saturday morning ; and that I got it in then is owing entirely
to Bridges having stayed up with me the whole of that night
and the greater part of the night before [to help in copying
it out]. It is now over, and I shall wipe it off my memory as
fast as possible." To his Mother. June 16, 1835.
My dear Mother, — I have at last an agreeable piece of news
for you. My essay has gained the prize, to my very consider
able astonishment, though I do not know there is anything to
be astonished at, for I should think I probably took more pains
with my performance than any other who wrote, particularly
as I had nothing else to do. But somehow or other success
does astonish one— that is to say just at first. The feeling
soon dies away, and joy subsides into a feeling of ordinary
satisfaction, so that though I have only heard the news an hour
ago, I feel now only a very moderate and chastened degree of
pleasure on the occasion. This process in the mind is perhaps
just as it should be, and prevents one from becoming conceited.
You need not expect any particular pleasure from the perusal

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 49
of the production itself, which is as stupid as need be, and as in
fact it must be from the nature of the subject. Do any of you
intend to see me spout in the theatre ? You must write soon
to congratulate me, for one chief pleasure on these occasions
lies in these petty gratifications, as philosophers would call
them. The day of Commemoration is to-morrow (Wednesday)
fortnight. I have no more news for you. If any come up it
will be a nice opportunity of arranging with Mrs. Newman as
to the promised visit. I am glad to say Oriel has the English
verse too ; so we shine this year, you see. — Your affectionate
son, James Mozley.
There was a family gathering at Oxford to hear the essay.
My mother and brothers came up from Derby, bringing my
two youngest sisters. My father sends a few happy words,
" gratified beyond what I can express," and quotes Napoleon's
speech to his soldiers, " My children have covered themselves
with glory." Everything went well ; the weather was fine ; the
scene in the theatre beautiful ; Mrs. Newman most hospitable ;
the party at Eosehill joining with ours in sight-seeing and all
the pleasures of the occasion. Mr. Keble was up, and most
kind to our party, speaking of the essay to my mother as excep
tionally good and full of promise ; and taking us into his old
rooms at Corpus.
After the breaking up of the Oxford party, J. B. M. visited his
friend Mr. Bridges, at Denton Court, near Canterbury, writing
very happily of the days passed there. From thence be and
his friend crossed over to Calais for a day — his first taste of
Continental travel. "After one whole day his letter shows how
much he took in, both of the services in churches and the
general aspect of the town, and the marked differences, extending
to the smallest particulars, between Calais and an English town.
Sight-seeing was always a strain on him: his mind worked
hard; he was conscious of labour; so, on his return from this
glimpse of foreign life, he writes : —

50 Letters of the
To his Sister. August 24, 1835.
On Friday, Sogers lionised ns over Woolwich, which was
interesting enough in its way, and one is glad to have seen it;
but really, after much and continuous sight-seeing, striking
things of all kinds so pall .upon one that I don't think the
descent of a comet itself would excite more than the most otiose
attention ; and accordingly it was with the calmest indifference
that I surveyed 27,000 cannon and some hundred thousand
cannon-balls. This is a state of mind which one ought to be far
from boasting of ; on the contrary, I suppose if one had a proper
degree of imagination one would be thunderstruck at such
spectacles. The name of Dr. Hampden has appeared already in these
pages, but upon the death of the Eegius Professor of Divinity,
Dr. Burton, it figures in a more prominent manner, awaking a
storm of controversy which was not to die out with the occa
sion that awoke it, but to be revived in the course of years
with renewed force. To his Sister Maria.
Oxford, February 13, 1836.
We have been all in a commotion for the last week, owing
to the report of Hampden's appointment [to the Eegius Pro
fessorship of Divinity]. The news first came out on Monday
morning, and of course excited great astonishment. There
was no doubt, however, about the fact ; Shuttleworth had got
it from the person himself; not that any official communi
cation had come down ; but that intimation had been given
that it was to be so. Accordingly people began to bestir
themselves immediately. That very day Pusey gave a dinner
to the leaders of orthodoxy in the University, at which
Newman, and Hook of Coventry, who happened to be up as
select preacher, and others were present. A petition was
agreed to, to be signed by the resident Masters, expressive of
their condemnation of Hampden's tenets, and their entire want

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 51
of confidence in him. However, a dinner-party was not to
settle everything ; and a public meeting was the next thing to
think of. So the next day (Tuesday) was occupied in stirring
up people. It was also thought requisite that an expose" of
Hampden should be got up, especially as the length, stupidity,
and obscurity of his Bampton Lectures, in which his chief
enormities were contained, had deterred most people from ever
looking into them ; so that he might have maintained the Moham
medan system in them, for anything the majority of persons
know about the matter. Newman took this expose" in hand, but
was thrown back a whole day by a stupid mistake of Palmer's
(of Worcester), who told him he need not trouble himself about
it, as Dr. Bliss (the most unlikely person in the world) had taken
it up. Afterwards it turned out that Dr. Bliss, as Palmer
said, had taken up the thing, but differed from Newman " in
the mode " of doing it ; that is, he intended to send an article to
The Standard on the subject, just as if a newspaper comment
at all stood in the place of a grave and formal exposition of a
man's theological opinions. However, the instant the mistake
was discovered Newman commenced work again ; and proceeded
in a most miraculous way — day and night I may almost say,
for he sat up reading and writing the whole of Wednesday
night. He expected the thing [the Elucidations'] to be printed
and ready to send off to town yesterday afternoon, but it
was not finished even last night. I suppose by this time it is ;
and some copies already sent to town to the Archbishop and
others. However, I have not come to the meeting yet.
On Wednesday morning a meeting was held in Corpus
common room, attended by about forty, a petition was read
and agreed on, and by that evening had received forty-
five signatures. The next evening, Thursday, it was sent
up to town with seventy-three signatures altogether; which
is a large number ; half of the resident masters ; especially
considering how many would be prevented by personal con
siderations from signing it. It is astonishing how strongly men
feel on the subject. Greswell of Corpus said he should consider
himself guilty of an act of apostasy from the Christian religion
if he did not protest against the appointment. Dr. Gilbert of

52 Letters of the
Brasenose declared the same thing. Dr. Cardwell, Principal of
St. Alban Hall was going about for two or three days quite
furiously, with a passage from Hampden's moral philosophy
lectures in his pocket, and declaring that he ought to be turned
out of professorship and hall, and house and home, and every-
thing. It must be strong feehng which could raise the Heads
of Houses : they had positively a meeting on Thursday to deli
berate whether a petition in due form from the whole Univer
sity in its corporate capacity should not be presented against
Dr. Hampden's appointment, he himself being present at the
meeting. This morning, to wind up the matter, H. gives
out that he has withdrawn. Whether or not he would have
been appointed against the almost unanimous feeling of the
University, I don't know. . . . Yours affectionately, J. Mozley.
To his Sister Maria. February 20, 1836.
The last time I wrote, Hampden and the Eegius Professor
ship was all there was to talk about; and it has been the
grand theme of interest ever since. You will see by to
day's papers that he is finally gazetted. This is the present
termination of all our struggles. Bose sent word of the event
to Newman yesterday, officially as Chaplain to the Archbishop ;
to whom the petition against the appointment had been
committed. The note was very strong, considering it was an
official thing, and implicated the Archbishop. It deeply con
doles with the University on the " great evil " that has befallen
it, and could only suggest as a consolatory thought that no effort
had been spared to prevent it. It seems the great argument
with Ministers, and one which Eose admitted had a " deplorable
strength," was the appointment of Hampden to the Moral
Philosophy Chair, after the publication of the Bampton Lectures.
I don't think myself we can fairly attach much blame to
Ministers ; indeed, as things go, it seems to have been a fairly
conscientious appointment on their part. One person in the
Ministry was strongly against it, and that was Charles Wood, aa»

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 53
Oriel man, and brother of the Wood who tried for the Fellow
ship about three years ago. The instant he heard of Hampden's
probable appointment he went to Lord Melbourne and remon
strated, but was met with the answer that all was settled. Lord
Melbourne himself had heard, it appeared, from some quarter or
other, of Hampden's heterodoxy, and had forthwith consulted the
Bishop of Llandaff, who assured him the charge was perfectly
futile. This answer, as was natural, coming from a Bishop who
had sometimes opposed the Ministry, and who had a character
for orthodoxy, in a sort of way, satisfied Lord Melbourne, and he
forthwith communicated his intention to Hampden ; so Wood's
remonstrance came too late. When the stir began at Oxford,
and a petition against the appointment had made its appear
ance, Ministers were of course excessively angry with Copleston
for having taken them in. Meanwhile Hampden wrote up to
resign his appointment conditionally — that is, he was willing to
do so if Ministers wished ; and so the matter stood. I suppose,
however, they did not think it worth while to break an engage
ment in order to gratify a party politically opposed to them.
Lord Melbourne confessed to Charles Wood his astonishment
at the number of heterodox names he had heard of as having
started out of Oxford in late years. " Pray, Wood, how is it
that in the bosom of your sluggish University, and out of a
College by no means the largest in it, so many heresiarchs have
lately sprung up : First there is Whately, Arnold, and Hampden,
then there is Mr. Keble and Mr. Newman, who, I hear, are quite
as great theologians as the others, only in another way." This
anecdote comes in a letter from Samuel Wood.
Henry Wilberforce has been up this last week, and stays over
next; his brother Sam preaches to-morrow at St. Mary's.
Certainly H. W. is as little changed by being a husband and a
father, as any one I know. He is just the same perfectly irre
sistibly ludicrous person he always was. — Yours affectionately, J. Mozley.
The excitement upon the question was universal. A friend
writes from Oxford, after a dinner party : " The guests sought
no other subject ; it furnished inexhaustible materials. The

54 Letters of the
Provost of Oriel, by your brother Tom's account, is quite worn
out by the hard service that the M.A.S, by their frequent
meetings, impose upon the poor Doctors. You will hear there
is to be a Convocation on the 2 2d, to consider the proposal
of the Doctors." The Christian Observer, commenting on
the Elucidations, professed to have discerned Dr. Hampden's
heresy as early as 1834. The Watchman assured its readers
that " Protestantism was stabbed to the very vitals," and that
if Dr. H. was appointed there was an end of all things. A
" Tory Country Clergyman," to whom the Elucidations were lent
on the condition of giving his opinion, remarked that "the
Doctor is not fairly treated. These very men were quiet at
the appointment of Whately," etc.
To his Sister Maria.
Oxford, Tuesday, March 22, 1836.
We have had our grand meeting to-day. More by a great
many came up on our side than I think were ever expected.
There could not have been fewer than 450 in the theatre, out
of which only 30 at the most were on Hampden's side. Two
o'clock was the appointed hour for Convocation, so accordingly
by that time the Convocation House and all the space about
the theatre and Divinity School was crowded with Masters in
black gowns, Doctors in red, some with caps, some without;
some faces academical, others obviously clergymen fresh from
the country : all collecting in masses and groups, talking and
listening to one another ; the former perhaps having the ascend
ency. In a short time there was a move for the theatre, the
Convocation House being too small for the number. The
bachelors and under-graduates rushed into the galleries, where
we waited about half-an-hour before the procession appeared.
Then the business went on in the usual form, which Anne,
having been once present, may remember, though she may have
forgotten a good deal of the Latin she heard on the occasion.
On the Vice-Chancellor putting the question, Does any master
wish to express his opinion ?— Vaughan Thomas began a power'

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 55
f ul address in the first-rate style of pompous Latinity, in which
he supplicated the Proctors to pause before they put their
veto, or, in case they were resolved, he insisted on the right
of the Masters to have the thing brought to a division, and
the number on each side counted up. This he proved from
the wording of the statute, and he seemed to me and to
everybody else to make out his case very clearly. However,
neither his supphcation nor his demand had any effect. After
his speech was ended the Vice-Chancellor put the question
Placet or Non-placet, which was responded to by a tremendous
shout of Placet from the area. While the actual noise was
going on, the Proctors pronounced their veto. Nobody heard
them, and the procession moved out of the Theatre, leaving the
Masters to stomach their temporary defeat as well as they
could — if defeat it could be called; for while the Vice-
Chancellor was marching out, the same division took place that
Anne will remember last time ; the Placets crowded together
on one side, presenting a sort of wall or phalanx, by the side of
which the Doctors passed in their movement out. Many of
the Doctors left the procession and joined the Masters amid
the shouts of the under-graduates. The minority appeared as
contemptible as you can well imagine — certainly not more
than 30, and one man, who counted, said only 25. One of the
most pleasant sights in the whole scene was old Bouth, the
venerable head of Magdalen College, who appeared for the first
time, I suppose, in these many years, in his place among
the Doctors. At the first glimpse of his wig, a general
acclamation was raised, which the old gentleman returned
with several bows, in all the courtesy of the old school. On
the meeting being broken up, a general cry rose np — "To
Brasenose Hall." Thither the non-residents adjourned in
a body, and put their names to a petition, requesting the Vice-
Chancellor to call a Convocation next term for the expression
of some censure on Hampden, and so the matter ends. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
Mr. Bickards, the three Wilberforces, two Kebles, Eyder,
Trower, Dr. Spry, and others, are up of our College.

56 Letters of the
In the April of 1836 he stood a second time for a Fellowship
at Oriel. To his Mother. Oxford, April 10, 1836.
My dear Mother, — Yesterday's silence would doubtless give
you by implication the result of the election ; for which I hope
you have been prepared. I am unsuccessful again : but I
believe there was no helping the matter, the feeling in Oriel
was so strong against having two brothers in the College. If
I had passed an examination very much better than the one I
did, it would have been all the same, those who voted against
me, would have voted against me anyhow ; that is, if I had not
shown positively superhuman power in the examination. What
sort of an examination I did pass, I do not know, and have not
heard ; but I should think it was superior in point of scholar
ship to the one I passed last time.1 It seems certainly as if I
was destined to be unfortunate in University matters. The
essay last year is the only faint gleam of prosperity that has
shone upon me throughout my course, and a somewhat unsub
stantial one that appears to have been. However, I don't know
1 Extract from The Guardian, Feb. 28, 1883 : —
" The Late Professor Mozley.
" Sir, — I venture to send you an anecdote, which, if you can find room for
it, will interest not a few of your readers. In one of the Memoirs of the late
Professor Mozley, which appeared in your columns shortly after his decease, it
is mentioned that in standing for a Fellowship at Oriel he produced, as his
English essay, just a sentence of a dozen lines, but such a sentence as no
other of the candidates could have written. In an old commonplace book
of my own, I find an entry made by myself, after reading the sentence. The
subject given appears to have been ' Prejudice.' My note from memory,
written the same evening, is as follows : — ' Use of the principle of Pre
judice in our nature : to create the feeling of certainty. The method whereby
in so large a proportion of cases we have to arrive at truth — viz., our own
research, in which we go on analysing, comparing, constructing theories — has
a tendency to make us think the truth we so arrive at a thing that we have
produced. But prejudice projects the truth from the eye, and gives it an
independent existence, and objective face of its own. It is then a principle
of our nature, a natural antagonist against a natural evil.  J. B. M. in
to-day's paper.' My own memory may perhaps hardly have done justice
to the writer's original thought ; but you will judge how it interested
" One op the Electors."
See p. xii. Introduction to Historical and Theological Essays.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 57
that I have any right to complain, as long as one is enabled to
preserve one's spirit and equanimity ; which I certainly do to
a greater degree perhaps than I have any right to, considering
that my prospects are somewhat awkward, and that I ought to
be looking about now to provide for myself. I feel that success
has a far greater power to elevate me than failure to depress
me. Whether this is an exactly proper frame of mind or
not, I don't know. But one cannot help following one's
natural temperament, and where that has such obvious advan
tages, as it has to me now, and saves so much present uneasi
ness, one is more inclined to make full use of it, than to be at
all suspicious about its propriety. Well, what is to be done
now ? Newman has a scheme for me, which I will mention to
you, though it does not bear out what I said just now,
about providing for myself. Newman wishes me to stay up
in Oxford still, and read. That was the only reason why he
wished me to get in at Oriel ; and that having failed, he has
now this plan for me,: Pusey, the Canon, finding his house too
large for him, and thinking also that his house and income
were never intended by the original benefactors of the Church
to be used only for private convenience, is going to take in three
or four men to give each of them apartments, and also the free
use of his library. In return for this they are to read —
divinity I suppose, or subjects connected with it ; following
at the same time the bent of their own minds as to the
particular course of reading ; and only referring to Pusey when
they think they want advice and assistance. This is a liberal
plan. Pusey, in short, only claims to give men an excuse
and object for staying up after their degree ; he wishes above
everything to encourage the study of theology, as one great
way of pouring in some light on this ignorant age ; ignorant,
that is, as to all sacred learning and primitive views. I
cannot give the exact details of the scheme, or how we are
to live together, and what we are to see of Pusey, and of
each other — but there is the general arrangement. The only
thing against it is, that it is not providing for one's-self.
However, if there is no immediate means of effecting that,
. . . there seems, on the whole, much to say in favour of it.

58 Letters of the
You may consider if you hke [in still supplying inevitable
expenses], that you are giving money into the Church. You
may fairly guess that I have no particular predilection for the
thing, so far as one's natural hopes and fancies influence me,
It is not a very pleasant thing — however one may rely on
Pusey's perfect conscientiousness — to receive so much from an
individual's liberality, but I suppose these are feelings to be got
over. Will some one write to me on Monday ? I am going
down, I think, to Moreton Pinkney, where Tom has gone to-day.
When is the ceremony? You have something there to console
amidst these mishaps. — Yours very affectionately, James Mozley.
The ceremony here spoken of was his brother John's
approaching marriage with Jemima, Mrs. Newman's second
daughter, which took place on April 28, 1836. The day passed
most happily, but shortly after Mrs. Newman became seriously
ill ; the attack, after some fluctuations, ending fatally on the
13th of May. This is not the occasion to dwell on the loss so
keenly felt by all privileged to know Mrs. Newman, and
especially by all members of the family into which her daughter
had married. To his Mother. Oxford, May 21, 1836.
My dear Mother, — Anne has not time to write to-day her
self, so, as you expect a letter to-morrow, she has commissioned
me to write instead. The funeral took place, as was intended,
this morning at about nine. Tom and myself walked up to
Iffley early in the morning, at a little past seven. They were
to have left at eight, but, as it was, it was nearer half-past when
we started. Some friends of the Newmans who had been
invited, attended in church— Dr. and Mrs. Pusey, Copeland,
Sogers, and others. Williams of Trinity read the service; I
believe Mrs. Newman had expressed a sort of wish that he
should. The vault was within the rails in the chancel of St,
Mary's. The Newmans are as cheerful, now it is over, as
one could expect. Newman himself is wonderfully improved

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 59
in spirits. Up to the time of the funeral he was dreadfully
dejected, his whole countenance perfectly clouded with grief,
and only at intervals breaking out into anything like cheerful
conversation. But whether it is that the funeral service, and
the rite altogether, has thrown a consolatory colouring on the
sad event, or that he does not think it right to go on grieving,
now that all is regularly over, certain it is he seems much more
like himself now than he has been for the week past. . . .
Harriett does not go down to you immediately ; she remains
in Oxford [i.e. Bosebank] this term, and her brother keeps her
company. When she purposes going to Derby I cannot exactly
say ; but I should hope it will not be long after the end of
term. Newman too, I hope, will go down some time in the
summer. It is really quite necessary that he should recreate
himself every now and then — and I think he feels this ; John,
Jemima, Anne, you may look out for the end of next week. . . .
One quality Mrs. Newman had — a very admirable one in a
person who had mixed much with the world — and that is, sim
plicity of mind. I cannot help thinking that she must have
had considerable influence on Newman's character in this point ;
though one is generally disposed to think his a case where the
maternal influence has been but slight in forming the man. If
I know anything of Newman's natural character, I should say
that he had lain under singular temptations to what goes greatly
against simplicity of mind — that is, to " high notions," as we
call it — a sort of leaning to the aristocratic world, which is a
failing natural enough to minds of conscious power and refine
ment. Newman has steered clear of this, as we well know. I
confess, in these days, when people indulge their own pride
without scruple or restraint, and educate their children to be
like themselves, and then cover it all with the surface of a
religious education, with words and phrases, and spiritual pro
fessions of all kinds, it is really pleasant to find a person really
moulding in some way the character of her family by the unos
tentatious influence of mere natural simple-mindedness. It
is certainly true that one sees more in persons' character when
they are dead than one did in their lifetime. We are apt to
overlook real graces of the mind, merely because they may be

60 Letters of the
unaccompanied with power and grandeur of character. Then we
regret afterwards that one did not appreciate the person more.
I am writing in Dr. Pusey's dining-room; I really flatter
myself, I get on very well with the Puseys, which is some
thing to say, considering the strangeness of the situation.—
Yours affectionately, James Mozley.
On Tuesday, the 27th of September 1836, my brother Tom,
now vicar of Cholderton, was married at St. Werburgh's, Derby,
to Harriett, the elder of the two Miss Newmans. On the dis
persion of the family gathering, James paid a visit to Mr. John
Christie, late Fellow of Oriel, now vicar of Badgeworth.
J. B. M. to his Sister.
Oxford, November 12, 1836.
I left Badgeworth on Thursday afternoon. You seem from
your letter to have expected me to be in Oxford two or three
days before I was ; perhaps I should not have been so late in
coming up, and I rather reproach myself with it. But nothing
disturbs me so much as your short bustling visits of a day or
two ; when you are come and gone again before you have got
the din of coaches, porter, and packages out of your ears. I
like to stay a sufficient time in the place to be able to have a
quiet enjoyment of the scene about me, and be, as it were, an
integral part of the household for the time being. Now I stayed
long enough at Badgeworth to enjoy my visit extremely. We
were a very sociable little family party, and seemed altogether'
to suit the small parsonage admirably. Christie is a most dili
gent visitor ; almost every afternoon, from one to five, he is
going about. In his walks with me, he called at several houses.
. . . This morning I should have gone with Newman to
Littlemore, only it rained; I dine with him to-day, to meet
Cornish of Exeter, who is rising into a member of the Aposto
lical party. Hampden has been preaching this morning at
Christ Church, in his turn as Canon. There was an overflowing
congregation, from some expectation, I suppose, that he might
make allusion to his persecutions. However, he gave only a

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 61
simple practical sermon, which was only remarkable for being
excessively dry. . . . The Archbishop has been staying at
Hnrsley with Sir W. Heathcote, where, of course, he saw a
great deal of Keble. He pronounced himself afterwards more
pleased with his visit there than any other in the course of his _
tour. Newman is working away at his new book [Romanism
and Popular Protestantism], and finds it very hard head-work ;
he has written some parts four or five times over. Bogers !
comes up next week, and then we will have a consultation over
parts of it, as well as on Froude's papers. I was at the theo
logical meeting on Friday evening ; Newman gave a paper with
several quotations from Osborne — most dreadful passages.
Their horror, I am ashamed to say, was somewhat lost upon
me, from a circumstance that I need not explain. — Yours
affectionately, James Mozley.
This " circumstance," a tendency to be drowsy under sermons,
attended him through all his later life. He seemed to sleep
often in conspicuous places, where his companions would gladly
have observed at least the attitude of attention, but he heard
through the mist of drowsiness ; and often came away in spite
of appearances with a correct idea of the preacher's topic and
manner. Oxford, November 26, 1836.
My dear Anne, — . . . Things have been very quiet this
term. We have no condemnation of heretics, no pamphlets
coming out, etc. The Provost just alluded in the most distant
way to the sore subject, in his sermon last Sunday. He ob
served that it was a disgusting habit in persons finding fault
with other people's theology. Nothing tended so much to
make the mind narrow and bitter. They had much better be
employing themselves in some active and useful way. This
is laughable enough as coming from the Provost, who has been
doing nothing else but objecting all his life. . . . Golightly
told me, the other day, that this £1000 [given by him to the
Bishop of London's fund for building new churches] has been
rather a source of annoyance to him than otherwise. He finds

62 Letters of the
himself talked to and appealed to in society in consequence.
I should have thought more disagreeable things might have
happened to Golightly than this ; but there is a more serious
nuisance still. People are so impudent as to think that having
given so much is a reason for his giving more, or at any rate a
sufficient ground for asking him. Accordingly, he had a letter
from a person entirely unknown to him, the other day, asking
him to give something to a church that was equally unknown
to him, on the express ground that he had subscribed £1000
to the London churches. Again, he had a letter from a clergy
man asking the loan of a £1000. What connection this person
could discover between the want of churches in London and
his own want of cash it is not easy to see, but Golightly gave
him a settler in the letter he wrote in answer. As a set-off
against this annoyance, he received the civilities and acknow
ledgments of the Bishop of London [Blomfield] when staying at
Pusey's, and was asked to call at Fulham, whenever he came
up to town. This was only proper. . . . F. has been at the
Lakes during the Long, and seen a good deal of Wordsworth
and Hartley Coleridge. Wordsworth spoke of Newman's
sermons, some of which he had read and liked exceedingly.
He spoke too of the Christian Year, of eourse admiring it, but,
not with as much zest as one would have liked. The truth is,
I believe, that is Wordsworth's weak point ; he has no great
fancy for other poets. . . . — Yours affectionately, J. Mozley.
To his Brother T. M.
December 14, 1836.
I think of going home on Friday, on which day, Anne tells
me, H. gives a grand evening party. Being a person fond of
gaiety, I cannot of course resist being present on the occasion,
especially after the sobriety and almost gloom of a term at
Oxford. It seems laughable to talk about gloom in Oxford,
where one sees all sorts of men every day, and meets with
new views and fresh things and persons at every turn. But
somehow or other the presiding genius of the place is not a
merry one, after one's under-graduate days are over. ... I

Rev. J. B. Mozley, D.D. 63
suspect, after all, the truth is that when one's old friends have
left Oxford it is a changed place, and that it is a very natural
consequence to follow such a cause. The Lyras 1 are at last
out ; and I suppose the critique on them will be out too before
long. S. Wilberforce finds fault with the hard and rash versi
fication of some, and insinuates that the mind of the composer
had probably lived too much apart from the tenderness and
sympathies of domestic life. N. was considerably amused
with this cut at him when S. W. sent him the critique to
read over some little time ago. . . . Keble has been up
delivering his terminal lecture. He dined on Tuesday with
Pusey, together with Williams and Copeland, for the purpose
of talking over the new translations of the Fathers. I was
not present at their deliberation. . . . H. Wilberforce seems
setthng to his work (The Confessions) with diligence. I sent
him down a Vulgate and a concordance to the Vulgate the
other day. How are you going on ? I suppose this is too
early a stage in the business to put such a question. The
Political Economy Professorship is vacant, and Merivale and
Maurice of Exeter are the rival candidates. — Yours affec
tionately, James Mozley.
I give the following as an early example of J. B. M.'s study
of character : — To his Sister Maria. March 1837.
You know  is here. I don't think I have mentioned
him in my letters yet. He is not quite so perfect as some of
his relations, . . . not that I have really much to say against
him ; he means very well on the whole, but there is a certain
want of delicacy about his mind, which prevents one from
taking to him. I often suspected that A. was annoyed
with his defect of manners, and it seems I was not wrong. . . .
Certainly there is too little restraint about his manners ; he is
what one might call too free and easy as far as appearances go,
and yet I have no doubt he means to be perfectly respectful.
1 Lyra Apostolica.

64 Letters of the
But here his deficiency of mind comes in. He has not that
delicate principle of respect in him which works insensibly in
a person's manner whether be thinks of it or not, and is in
fact perfectly consistent with great ease and freedom.
To his Sister. Oxford, March 17, 1837.
You ask about  . ... He is the author of that article
in the Quarterly, which contains most excellent views. Pusey's
brother, the member, told him it was thought one of the
greatest triumphs Newman had bad, getting hold of the
Quarterly. Lockhart finds he must have an infusion of Oxford
principles, it takes with people now ; that is, such people as
read the Quarterly.
Newman has given me a copy of his book (Romanism and
Popular Protestantism). He presented it with much grumbling
and complaints at being obliged to give away so many; but,
however, I should have that copy, because it was greased. I
told him I should value the gift so much the more from seeing
the sacrifice it was to him to make it. . . . There is to be
another affray in the Christian Observer next month. H., of
Merton, a leader of that party, preached in St. Mary's the
other Sunday against the younger members of the University
holding religious discussions on certain doctrines then much
brought forward — alluding, of course, to Newman's and Pusey's
views, which, nevertheless, he said he himself believed to be
true. It is rather good these people objecting now to religious
conversation. Not that I have ever heard any myself. I don't
call talking about Newman and Pusey and the Apostolical
Succession, or High Church and Low Church, religious con
versation. — Yours affectionately, J. Mozley.
Shortly after he writes : — " Mathison told us that Murray
had expressed his fears to him about that article— on the
strength and ultra character of the thing. He would have
given, he said, a thousand pounds to have it left out. How
ever, he had been reconciled a little time after, on finding it
did not give such general offence as he had anticipated."

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 65
To his Sister Maria.
Oxford, March 29, Wednesday in Easter Week, 1837.
I have been uncommonly busy of late, but we are now en
joying ourselves, all of us. Eogers and Wood and Wilson are
up for a few days. The two former came on Saturday, and with
them Williams (the member) and Mr. Mathison, who left
yesterday morning. It was disappointing enough to me that
I could see so little of the party the first and larger half of
their stay, my work taking up every minute of time till Thurs
day morning. We all dined here on [Easter] Sunday, Mrs.
Pusey having engaged Newman six weeks beforehand to dine
on Easter Day. We had also the whole party to dinner here
yesterday, except Williams and Mathison, who had gone
down. . . . Newman so enjoys a party of old friends coming
up, it is quite pleasant to see it. It is only a pity those things
are so short. Wood and Wilson go away to-morrow. Eogers
staying over Sunday, and dines again at Pusey's, to meet Sir
George Grey and Mr. Colquhoun, who are passing through, and
staying the Sunday, principally to hear Newman preach. They
are both Ministerialists — the former a nephew of Lord Grey.
They are both Oriel men, and First Classes, and perhaps have
a curiosity about the Oriel School. It will be funny enough
to see how Pusey will manage with them ; he has no idea of
economising, and will surprise them a little. I am staying up
the whole vacation, though when Wilson asked me to go down
with him to Hursley, I felt strongly tempted. . . .
I must begin now to think of Thomas a Becket again ; Pusey
keeps telling me there are plenty of things for me to do when
I have finished it, which is a consoling prospect. However,
Newman pushes me on the subject every now and then, and
Archdeacon Froude has mentioned the papers two or three
times in his letter to N. — not that he seems in a hurry ; but
still, on the whole, there seems to be a call for it. — -Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
Towards the end of 1837 James stood for a Fellowship at
Lincoln. I feel I may give his own account of the affair,
because it is more than confirmed by a note added in the end
E

66 Letters of the
by Mr. Newman, which calls James the first confessor in the
cause, and commends the " sweetness " with which he takes
the disappointment; at the same time nrging his stay in
Oxford. Oxford, November 6, 1837.
My dear Mother, — Bad news for you. I am sorry for it,
but it cannot be helped. Of course, there is all that consola
tion for us afterwards which usually faUs to the lot of unsuc
cessful candidates. They say I was the best of the whole set,
and acknowledged so to be, which is not anything after all to
plume one's-self upon, for there were only four candidates
besides myself, only it allows one to take the present failure as a
misfortune only, which is a comfort in a sort of way. We have
a right to be composed and magnanimous on the subject, if we
chose to be so, and can derive anything from such innocent
consolations. I had the Sector's two votes, and three others,
Michel, Atkinson, and Kettle. All my supporters, I hear, were
very warm in my favour. The Bector commenced proceedings
in chapel, declaring his intention. He said he should be very
sorry for things to come to that pass, but if they did, he should
certainly give me his casting vote. However, there were seven
on the other side, so his casting vote was not called for. D., a
school-fellow of mine, and one of the non-elected, called on the
Bector immediately after to take leave. He (that is the Eector)
told him he was very much astonished at the result of the
election, and that it was very different from what he expected
when he entered the chapel. ... I have just returned from
taking a run with Newman, and talking over what is to be
done. Both he and Pusey wish me very much to stay in
Oxford, and say it is my place. Newman is indignant that
we should allow ourselves to be driven out of Oxford in j
this way by such a miscellaneous, irrational principle of
decision as what seems to prevail in Lincoln College. In
reality, one may say so without self-conceit coming in to
the matter. From what I am told, the majority had nothing
at all to say against the judgment of the minority. They
were quite right, only they did not chose to have me. . . •

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 67
I heard a few days ago that some of them had a notion
I was Eadical, which was contradicted immediately. How
ever, impressions last after the cause is gone, and Oriel
is a suspicious place to come from ; and, perhaps, there is a
kind of confusion in some minds between the new principles
and Eadicalism, the only point of similarity being the newness in
each — each wishing for something different from what had been.
As for future plans, I suppose there is nothing just for the
present better than staying in Oxford. I have pledged myself
to prepare Froude's Thomas a Becket papers, and I ought to be
near Newman while I am doing it — at least some part of the
time. N. says I shall be able to get a curacy near.
There are reasons why the answers to this letter should be
given, though with some apologies to the reader.
From his Sister. Friary, November 8, 1837.
Owing to the perversity of the Oxford post, we did not get
your letter till this morning. But we had gathered that you
were unsuccessful from your silence, and only supposed you
were in no hurry to tell bad news. We give you now credit
for more magnanimity, and are only sorry that our sympathy,
for I will not say condolence, should not arrive when you
expected. Of course we were a little disappointed at first,
though we never for a moment doubted that you deserved suc
cess ; but it is pleasanter to win than to lose. However, such
disappointment is soon got over. . . . One can only regret it
on a pecuniary point of view, and that, after all, is not worth
thinking of. What stupid men they must be ! I suppose John
Wesley has frightened them from ever choosing a person of
mind or energy. Mamma was very much pleased with your
letter this morning, and with Mr. Newman's postscript, which
it was very good of him to write. It would be very unreason
able in us to be dissatisfied when everybody says you did the
best. Mamma has been reading papa your letter ; he is " proud
of having such a son," though perhaps he might have been
willing that his acknowledged merits were more substantially

68 Letters of the
rewarded. He wishes to leave your future plans entirely in
Mr. Newman's hands, and would have you be guided by him,
We of course ah feel, as much as yon can do, how desirable it
would be, if possible, for yon to stay in Oxford. I cannot
think with satisfaction of any other place for you as yet,
though I should soon be reconciled, if it were found necessary.
... In Oxford you will be gaining experience and a right to
teach ; therefore a curacy near Oxford seems much the best, if
it could be got by waiting a little. . . . Dr. Pusey is extremely
kind, and mamma feels inclined that you should for the pre
sent avail yourself of his offer, though she leaves it quite to
you. I know that you must feel some inconveniences in your
present kind of life, and if you feel them strongly I would
have you take lodgings. You are an economical person, and
have the credit of being so both with papa and mamma. I do
not mean to be ungracious to Dr. and Mrs. Pusey, to whom we
all feel so much obliged, but still you may feel it would be
desirable to be entirely independent ; and their kindness, which
does so much, perhaps can't do this. I have a message from
mamma about your cold. If it is not better, she says you had
better have some advice, and not let it hang about you. Miss
Keen (our amiable and excellent Devonshire friend) desires
her best thanks for your remembering her at such a time. She
makes up her mind that there is something much better for
you, and has visions of "fat livings," which are rather dis
tasteful to mamma, who never fixes her affections on such
things. . . . Yours very affectionately, A. M.
In the end of this letter are a few lines from my mother to
Mr. Newman : —
Mrs. Mozley to Mr. Newman.
November 8, 1837.
My dear Mr. Newman,— Accept my warmest thanks for the
few words of kindness you were good enough to send me in
James's letter. They would have been more than sufficient to
console me under a keener disappointment. Many friends say,
with you, that there is no doubt a greater good in reserve for

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 69
him ; but what greater good can he have, or can I desire for
him, than the sympathy and zealous kindness of such friends
as you and Dr. Pusey ? I hope I can say that I never coveted
riches or high place for my children. A reputation has been
what I have most desired for them, and I am sure I am more
in the way of my desire being granted when any circumstance
strengthens the friendship of yourself and Dr. Pusey, than in
obtaining a Lincoln Fellowship. — Believe me to be ever truly
yours, Jane Mozley.
It may be said that the reputation here desired is precisely
the reputation her son's works have subsequently gained for
him. To his Sister. Oxford, November 9, 1837.
My dear Anne, — . . . Thanks for your most cheering letter.
People seldom get congratulations and compliments on not
getting Fellowships. I am, it seems, one of those fortunate
individuals. I gave Newman his part to read, and, Pusey being
with him at the time, left it there. He asked if he was to
read the whole of it. I said certainly, if he liked, but the
first part had no connection with him. When I returned again
some hours after, he said he had been guilty of an act of
aicpoia, which Greek word means going against one's con
science. The act turned out to be that he had read the whole
letter. Also it came out that he had read my mother's part to
Dr. Pusey. ... Of course I am staying on here for the present.
Newman has a scheme for taking a house, and occupying it
with a sufficient number of men without Fellowships, but who
wish to stay up' regularly in the University. He has written
to W. Froude, who is threatened with his old complaint, and
advised against going on with his profession, and he has spoken
to Johnson of Magdalen Hall. I talked with the latter to
day; he has a strong leaning, I think, to the thing. These
lodgings, the idea is, may be paid out of the Society's fund,
and those who benefit by it in return give a portion of their
exertions to the cause. I send you some memorials of the

70 Letters of the
Bishop of Sodor and Man ; they were given me to send where
I could. I beheve there is a considerable chance of saving the
bishopric, if there is only feeling enough shown for it. ^
Pusey's sermon is making a great fuss. I suppose it is the
first time of the Eevolution being formally preached against since
Sacheverel's time. Newman has heard from Eivington, asking
whether he will continue his support to the British Critic under
new editorship, to which N. has replied that there must first
be an editor that be approves of. I have set to again at Froude's
papers, and purpose working steadily ; it is more steady than
hard working that is required for getting on with them. . . .
— Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In reply to this letter his sister writes : —
November 16, 1837.
. . . John, Jemima, and I have been talking over your con
cerns this morning. First we agreed that it would be well
for you to stay some time in Oxford, then Jemima thought
not too long, unless you had some fixed plan; as going on doubt
fully from term to term gives people unsettled ways when they
ought to be beginning the business of life seriously. Nobody
quite understands this House, which I suppose is not a real
scheme as yet. Of course you will be obliged to wait some time
before you are ordained ; as Christmas will be here too soon for
you to avail yourself of that time. . . . While the [Oriel] exhi
bition lasts it seems an excellent reason for staying where you
are, and mamma so much prefers it. She thinks it does you
so much good; and you know her old ambition that you should
write, which she fancies more likely yon should do in the
literary air of Oxford than elsewhere. . . . Miss Keen continues
to wish for fat hvings for you, and one night we had quite an
argument as to one being desirable. She was so strenuous in
its favour, and mamma in her indifference, that one might
have thought your real fate hung on the decision of the ques
tion. — Yours affectionately, A. M.
1838 was distinguished by the change of editorship of the
British Critic, which now became the organ of the party

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 71
of which Newman, Pusey, and Keble were the recognised heads,
Mr. Newman accepting the office of editor after some commu
nication with Messrs. Eivington. One incidental use of the
review was to furnish a field — a sort of practice-ground — for
the younger members of the party.
To his Sister. Oxford, February 6, 1838.
... I was with Newman on Sunday evening, talking over the
British Critic. He is sanguine about contributors. Newman
only took it after others refusing — first Manning, then Maitland.
The latter was frightened by an article of Pusey's on the Church
Commission, which he thought went too far for him in his pre
sent situation of librarian to the Archbishop. There will be four
stiffly theological articles in each number — so Newman thinks
to arrange it. The rest will be miscellaneous and literary. . . .
The article in the Edinburgh is, Pusey has heard, by Meri-
vale. He rather likes it, on the whole ; that is, he thinks the
spirit good ; but he will answer it, and enter into the historical
question particularly. The article in the Quarterly is Sewell's.
I should hardly have guessed it, though the beginning is like
him. There is a bit, you remember, quoted in it from an article
in the British and Foreign Review. That article is Price's.
Arnold has been here, and called on Pusey yesterday — a visit
of explanation, and kindly meant. They knew each other once
very well. Arnold is on the Boaia of the New University in
London, and is for the Greek Testament being introduced into
the examination. He will not unhkely resign if it is carried
against him. Pusey talked about this with him, it being a
subject on which they could agree.
The river is frozen here so thick that they are going to roast
a sheep on it, and everybody is skating. . . . Yours affection
ately, J. B. Mozley.
From his Brother, T. M.
Cholderton, February 20, 1838.
My dear James, — I think since the days of my attendance
at Pusey's theological meetings, he has delivered there some

72 Letters of the
lectures on the inspiration of Scripture. Can you send me
an account of what he then said, or does say, on the subject ?
It is to be the subject of the clerical meeting this day three
weeks, and I wish to have something distinct to say upon it.
I do not remember at this moment any place in Newman's
published works where he has treated it.

Oxford, February 21, 1838.
My dear Tom, — Pusey sends you down his papers to look
over for yourself, and collect what you can from. Though
delivered only a year ago they were written, the greater part of
them, several years since ; so be would not bold himself strictly
answerable for every word or phrase. Also the main subject is
the Apocrypha, and the sense in which it is to be considered
inspired. And Inspiration generally only comes in as intro
ductory to this. Newman wishes you to pursue the thing, as
some views are wanted upon it ; and no one has taken it up
yet in a regular way, or any way at all, if you except these-
very papers. . . . Little Philip Pusey is very ill and not ex
pected to recover, though it may be some time before his com
plaint is decisive one way or the other. Pusey himself has
been up to London just now to be a witness for Mr. Davenport,
whose case you may have seen in the papers. His relatives
choose to think him mad because he has given away .£40,000
for charitable and religious purposes. Pusey met him at dinner
in the Long : and went to testify to his sanity, as far as he could
judge at the time. He was examined an hour and a half in rather
a bullying way, and bad seriously to give his opinion that the
clergyman, seeking treasure in heaven, who gave £5000 to the
London churches, was not mad. By the way, I strongly suspect
this clergyman to be Pusey himself. If so, it is rather good. The
question, however, was put by the counsel for his side, and
perhaps might have been politic, before a London jury of
money-getting persons ; though to moot the question at all, of
such a person, would rather be against than for such a case
as Mr. Davenport's. Pusey, as is natural enough, is rather
annoyed from thinking that he might have done better in the

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 73
examination, and been more ready than he was ; but I should
think he did very well.
Sam Wilberforce preached yesterday his first sermon as
Select Preacher. It was on the return of the Prodigal Son, and
was against Pusey's views in his Baptism. He called on New
man afterwards, and, as Newman said, wished evidently to get
from him what he thought of the sermon, but N, not having
heard it, naturally evaded such hints, which S. W. would of
course attribute to the subject of the sermon, rather than to so
simple a reason as the preceding one. I suppose there must be
something harsh in Pusey's statements, as they offend people so
mightily — more than the same view expressed by the older
divines — such as Jeremy Taylor. He hits people hard, and
offers no apology or consolation for the blow. But I am
speaking off the book, never having read his Baptism in a
regular way.
Newman has been writing till his wrist is sore, and till he
almost thinks of giving himself a holiday, though he does not
know when. Pusey has just given me his papers, laughing all
the while at their disorder, in which I joined him. They are
•written, as you will perceive, on odds and ends ; the slips and
backs of letters, and so on. I would caution you against
trusting too much to the numbering 1, 2, 3, 4, which might be
found to involve only the particular papers which bear them,
not those which succeed, though yon are at liberty to take
the order as it appears till you have proof to the contrary. You
will find the subject also in the second volume of the Theology
of Germany, which will probably give you as much to your
purpose as these papers. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister. March 4, 1838.
. . . Mrs. Pusey is much better than she was, and has come
down-stairs to dinner for the last three or four days. The only
danger is that she will overdo it and take liberties, now that
she is no longer positively confined to her room. Little Philip
goes on about the same. They think of going to some watering-

74 Letters of the
place when the weather is fine enough— perhaps to Dublin.
Pusey would wish to see the Irish clergy— those of them who
are at all High Church— to establish, a connection with them.
But at present I believe there are only two High Churchmen
in Ireland, Mr. Todd, and Mr. Gibbins, the editor of the Index
Fxpurgatorius, so that there would be httle to do in that way
just now. Sam Wilberforce has been up preaching a University
sermon. It was aimed very perceptibly at Pusey's view of
baptism. This is uncommonly silly in S. W. ; he professes
himself of our party, and talks of us and we and so on, and yet
splits from us in public. Pusey perhaps may have expressed
himself harshly in his book, and one would have nothing to
say if a person only sent his objections to himself; but it is a
different thing to tell it to the whole world to please people
by giving them the opportunity of saying "Ah! they are splitting
among themselves."
In a letter of a subsequent date, April 7, addressed to
James Mozley by a friend, we read : —
Henry Wilberforce, by the way, says that it would give Sam
great pain if people thought he had been preaching at Pusey
lately — that he only wished, without reference to existing
persons, to express certain opinions of his own, the contrary to
which he certainly was aware that Pusey maintained, but
hoped no offence. Pusey does not conceal his disgust. ... I
am not surprised, by the way, at his growing fierce, for he is
preached at every Sunday regularly. There is a hit at him in
some hole or corner of every sermon one hears. Mr. Gresley
this morning (or I would rather say Sir Nigel, for it must be the
same, though he is put down Mr.) bad a httle fling at the 5th
of November sermon. Last Sunday there was something of the
same kind again. The Sunday before was Sam W. ; and the
afternoon preacher also fired a few shots. The Sunday before
that Hampden gave vent a little, and Mr. Hill of Edmund Hall
was almost bursting with spleen and ill-humour in a sermon he
preached on St. Matthew's Day. Eogers is coming up again to
reside, which is a pleasant thing for all of us, and for Newman
especially.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 75
I suppose by this time you have Fronde's Remains} It makes
some people melancholy reading them, which I can easily
understand in those who did not know him. However, the
darker side shades off as you go on, and the whole ends in a
cheerful character. Eogers' article on Froude's Remains (British
Cnfa'c, No. XLV., Jan. 1838), is much admired and is certainly a
great manifestation of ^0?. The Justification is almost through
the press. I shall be taking my M.A. in a few days. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
To his Brother, T. M.
Oxford, April 6, 1838.
My dear Tom, — . . . Your proposal of curacies does not quite
come in with my views just now. . . . The truth is, I cannot
make up my mind to leave Oxford at present. It is too much
of a break to encounter all at once, and I happen to have a
good reason for staying on. Newman intends putting some
plan or other of a Society into execution next term, and I am
to be a leading member — though whether principal or vice-
principal I cannot tell you. But if there are only two of us,
which seems likely at present, I must either be one or the other.
1 Froude's Remains were so much discussed at the time that it may be well
to give a private critique as representing the feeling among those most
disposed to take the book for granted : — "March 14, 1838.
"... I have not yet said anything of Froude's Remains, though we have
had them more than a week, and I have nearly read, in a desultory way, all
the first vol. It is difficult to know what to say about it. Of course it is
very interesting and very clever, but I must say I felt as if I was com
mitting an impertinence in reading his private journal — probably the most
really private journal that ever was written. For, conceive his horror
while writing some of the confessions, to think that all that would be
printed ! Then, I should imagine, there are many so little aware of their own
weaknesses that they may look down upon Froude as having had more weak
and foolish thoughts than others, or at least than themselves ; for people
out of the habit of self-examination let thoughts of pride, vanity, greediness,
and the like pass through their minds, and rest there without any thought
or consciousness of the matter— that at least I fancy. I am afraid lest
justice should not be done him, that people should not feel that the very
fact of his noting them down proves they are not the habit of his mind
but something strange, new, unfamiliar that he starts from. The letters
are striking and in an odd style. I am very curious to know what kind of
sensation his views will make, uttered so carelessly, instead of in Keble's,
or Pusey's, or Newman's grand style. I think the journal is melancholy,
but then every sincere thing of the kind must be so."

76 Letters of the
Johnson of Magdalen Hall will join ; he is the only one we are
certain of. But after the Oriel contest is over, others may be
willing. I know Harriett laughs in her sleeve at all these schemes,
but you must know I am grown quite a grave and reverend
senior, and have a right to take a sort of part in these arrange
ments. I am an M.A., as you know, and I wear spectacles to
a considerable extent, and this, yon must admit, to be a
powerful combination, and to make me altogether a much more
important personage than I was before. Newman's Justification,
has been out a week. You must read Pusey's article on the
Church Commission ; it is a complete expose", and gives the whole
history from the first. — Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
In fact, James's decision to remain in Oxford was the right
one. To write was his vocation, and the neighbourhood of
libraries a necessity to him. The event justifies his resolve.
To Mrs. Thomas Mozley. April 15, 1838.
My dear Harriett, — . . . We are commencing our plan of
a Society in real earnest, and are already in treaty for a house
opposite Pusey's. We are forming arrangements as to details,
and your brother is to order furniture forthwith from London;
very plain of course — no sofas or arm-chairs. Your brother-
wished to have deal in the bedrooms ; but I put my veto upon
that on the ground of its being ostentatious. These things you
are not to talk of, you understand, though I give you perfect
leave to laugh at them internally as much as you please. I
shall be glad to get a sight of you again at Cholderton, though
I had rather it had been in summer-time, to enjoy the luxury
of your woods. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
The next letter is written from Hursley, where he was on a
visit to Mr. E. F. Wilson, Mr. Keble's curate.
To his Sister. Hursley, April 27, 1838.
It is certainly a considerable time since I wrote last, but I
have gone on putting off, thinking I might have something to

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. yy
say after coming here. I came last Monday and shall leave
next, after which I go for a week to Cholderton. I am enjoying
the country and persons here uncommonly, and I find myself
pretty correct in my expectations. Keble does not exhibit the
Christian Year very prominently in his outward air or manner ;
and persons who came with the idea would be rather floored
and perplexed, and not know what to make of him. It is
neither amiable, nor civil, nor courteous, nor engaging, nor any
thing of the kind, but he leaves you pretty much to yourself,
and speaks just when he likes, and what. Some persons might
be put out by all this : somehow or other I cannot help liking
it myself, and being amused by it. In fact, there, is something
in the real and natural way of going on, which pleases one for
its own sake, though it may not be personally attentive to one's-
self in particular. We dined with him on Wednesday, and saw,
of course, Mrs. Keble. There was Miss Coxwell and two ladies
out of the village. Mrs. Keble is decidedly pretty and interesting-
looking, very agreeable, — I should think clever. She looks
delicate of course, but she has come to daily prayers with the
exception of yesterday. I can hardly tell you what conversa
tion was about ; Keble lets everything take its course, and never
sets any subject going of a continuous kind — probably would
rather interfere with it if any one else did. You must not
suppose by all this that I do not hke K.'s manner or am dis
appointed. On the contrary, it really takes with me; only
if I were a friend of bis I should be afraid sometimes of others
being offended by it and not understanding him. I was amused
with a poetical sketch he drew of the society to be met in the
club-houses in town. Wilson was saying that persons frequented
those places in order to have fashionable or distinguished
characters pointed out to them : There goes such a one, and so
on. " Yes," said Keble, " there goes Lytton Bulwer, there goes
O'Connell, there goes Jack Ketch, there goes Lucifer."
We are going to dine to-day with a Mr. Yonge of Otterbourne,
a chapelry in Hursley parish ; he breakfasted with us the first
morning, and seemed a kind of person to respect very much ; he
is a great friend of Keble's, and superintends very sedulously
the building of the new church at Otterbourne, which is much

78 Letters of the
to his credit, especially as he has been in the army. We called
at his house when we went to see the new church, and saw
Mrs. Yonge and a family of cousins from Devonshire. He
himself was at the church, where we afterwards found him all
dusty from working and measuring and that kind of work.
Winchester Cathedral is very fine inside, especially the part
where the shrines of Bishop Waynflete, Cardinal Beaufort, and
Wilham of Wykeham are. They rise up in a kind of area as if
they were clumps of trees. . . .
I have told no Oxford news yet ; really two or three days
in the country is such a change that it makes one forget all
little events before. One or two things, however, I do remem
ber ; Bridges is elected at Merton, which is very satisfactory;
he resides, in consequence, the next year. Next, I must
inform you that Newman has taken a house, to be formed
into a reading and collating establishment, to help in editing
the Fathers. We have no prospect of any number joining
us just at present. Men are willing, but they have Fellow
ships in prospect, as B. And P., who stood at Oriel, and
passed a very good examination — the best, as some thought
— has a Fellowship at University in prospect, which would be
interfered with by joining us, for we shall of course be marked
men. It would, I have no doubt, seriously injure any one's
chance' at any College now being connected so openly with
Newman and Pusey. My chances being over, I can of course
afford to be cool and courageous in the matter. The house has
to be put in order before we can go into it. I say we, but I
really don't know of any one beside myself immediately and
positively going there. ... I have just seen H. Wilberforce
and Eyder (the brother-in-law), who were calling upon Keble.
Keble is certainly great fun, and I think I have been hard upon
him in the beginning of my letter.— Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
I have given the impression of Keble's manner as it stands, in
spite of the last sentence, as a very' genuine, true piece of
description. The manner is a poet's manner when off the fervour
of inspiration. Of all things one cannot fancy Keble regulating

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 79
his social habits by the Christian Year — by what might be
expected of him as its author. The man stands before us as
he was, his humour recognised, which in his " Life " finds little
place. As for the second subject of the foregoing letter — the
Hall, and those who entered into the scheme and took up their
abode there being " marked men " — Mr. Newman, in spite of
ascetic rule and disregard of personal advancement, which he in
culcated on others and practised himself, was the last man to be
indifferent on the point of spoiling other men's prospects. To be
the means of doing so evidently dwelt on his mind and harassed
him. On the occasion of James Mozley's standing at Magdalen
in 1840, he threw his heart into the election, and had a good
share in the success. Where the election was a near run thing,
every friend, indeed, who brought his influence to bear, felt
he had brought him in ; but Mr. Newman had the feeling of
responsibility which made it a personal matter, and success a
personal relief as well as gratification.
On Trinity Sunday, 1838, James Mozley was ordained
deacon. Some characteristic traits came out in the history of
the preceding week. He had a certain coolness and freedom
from fidget and worry that often amused his friends, and some
times went too far, as on this occasion. Without adequate
grounds, he had it firmly fixed in his mind that the deacon's
examination would not be till the Wednesday and Thursday in
Whitsun Week. It was an occasion to interest Mr. Newman.
James had written to his brother Arthur, then an under
graduate at Oriel, with some inquiries. Arthur's reply had been
that Mr. Newman did not know the time, " but you will very
likely have to come to be examined very soon." Mr. Newman
would not be able to understand a man's relying on anything
but the most formal information, and the fact that James did
not arrive from Cholderton, where he was reading for the exa
mination, till the Tuesday evening after the deacon's examina
tion was over, would seriously vex him, nor would he think it

80 Letters of the
necessary to conceal bis vexation. James had written home
that, God willing, he was to be ordained on Trinity Sunday—
" perhaps before you get this letter." To his brother be writes,
after announcing the event of his ordination : —
Oxford, June 13, 1838.
My dear Tom, — . . . All 's well that ends well ; so mis
takes do not signify now, but on coming up I found I had made
a considerable floor as to the time of the examination, the two
days for the deacons having been Whit Monday and Tuesday,
Pusey instantly went to the Archdeacon, and explained matters
to him ; and the result was that I went in on Wednesday and
Thursday, and had a private examination with the priests.
The Archdeacon was very good-natured, and made no difficulty
whatever, but I felt annoyed, especially as Newman took it
into his head to feel hurt about it, not to say considerably
enraged. However, I have made up the affair with him, and
we are as good friends as ever, but he looked amazingly black
at first, I can assure you, epep,vfj vvktI eoiicax;. I read prayers
for bim at St. Mary's on Sunday afternoon, and got through
with one bad mistake and three minor ones. . . . They say I
was heard pretty well, which I am glad of, for I did not strain
my voice. But what do you think awaits me next Sunday, if
I get a sermon finished in time ? Newman positively intends
me to preach for him. This is certainly starting rather boldly,
I call it. However, Eogers seemed to think I had as well do
it, and I thought it would be hke mock modesty to refuse ; and
after all, if one gives a plain, straightforward sermon, there is
nothing to affect one much one way or another. . . . Sam
Wilberforce preached at St. Mary's on Sunday afternoon, but we
were not out of the Cathedral in time to hear him. People say
there were hits in it at Newman. ... I do not take Water
Eaton, unless the Bishop wishes it, instead of which, Newman
has a plan for me to be his curate at St. Mary's.— Yours affec
tionately, j. b. Mozley.
It is interesting, after the story of missing the examination*
day, to read the following lines : —

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 81
" To James Mozley, Esq., Dr. Pusey's,
HARISSIME, — I send you my surphce, not knowing whether
ot you want it. It is that in which I was ordained deacon
priest. — With every kind thought, ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.
ifesLSS. Trin., 183.8."
, M's. letter- in answer foresees for James the character of a
aler — How came he to be so positive it was Wednesday
Thursday ? — Whose fault was it I- — deriving also from
Les's history a confirmation of his view of a "family failing."
From what I hear, S. Wilberforce does not confine himself
ireaching in St. Mary's. He goes about talking against
nnan and Pusey's views. It is to be hoped that he will
lish, and so give N. and P an opportunity of answering
. He taunts his brothers with being ridden by Newman,
boasts of his own liberty. Free, however, as he is, he is
10 means happy — on the contrary, thoroughly discontented
1 everything about him, and his own condition and circum-
ices in particular. . . . Yours affectionately, T. Mozley."
n the life of Bishop Wilberforce there is some mention of
srgence of opinion from Newman and Pusey at this date.
i letter of his to Mr. Charles Anderson, August 18, 1838,
e is a curious example of a certain bhndness as to the pro
le effect of attacks on the persons he was constantly " hit-
" in public and private : a blindness which perhaps was
atural concomitant of intense self-reliance and sense of
er. " As to my agreeing wholly with Newman, etc., New-
has just, very kindly towards me, but, as I think, very
isely, declined receiving more articles from me in the
ish Critic, because my sentiments do not sufficiently accord
i those of Dr. Pusey and himself. This is to me another
k of party spirit, which I greatly lament seeing among
l great and good men."1
1 Life of Bishop Wilberforce, vol. i. p. 128.
F

82 Letters of the
To his Sister. Oxford, July 6, 1838.
Dear Anne, — . . . You must know I preached my first
sermon at St. Mary's last Sunday, and had a much larger
congregation than I should have had the Sunday before — more
dons, and more strangers, too; the latter, of course, having
come to hear Newman (who was in town). However, it can
not be helped. I wished to preach a sermon in St. Mary's, and
that was a laudable wish, and therefore other things must give
way. I believe I was not quite loud enough, and read rather
too fast, and too monotonously. But the sermon was thought
a nice one by my friends, though the Provost took the
trouble the next morning to inform me that it was quite a
mistake on my part — that I preached in Latin, and must have
been quite unintelligible to the people in general. However,,
this is only the Provost's view, to which he is welcome.
People must have been uncommonly stupid who could not
have understood me, for I bad neither hard words nor hard
ideas, and as for going into the derivation of every word that
one uses, whether it is Latin or Greek, one would be half a
year writing at that rate. I should not think the Provost ever
once thought of doing it himself. I take the sermon at Little-
more next Sunday. — Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
In July and August of this year he is at Cholderton alone,
while T. M. and his wife are taking their holiday and visiting
friends. The perfect solitude, of which he had now experi
ence, encouraged his intellectual bent, though far from being
congenial to his social nature. He writes to his sister, then
visiting in Dublin : — Cholderton, July 30, 1838.
Thank you for your letter in the first place, which came in
most opportunely to relieve the tedium of a long dull morning-
They have treated me too disgracefully at Derby, never having
written yet. I go on here pretty much as you might expect,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 83
and quietly enough ; I have nothing to distress me throughout
the week, or move in any way, except my sermon for the Sun
day. This hangs heavy sometimes, especially as I am idle the
first part of the week ; and have, therefore, this cloud always
before me. I intend to begin reading or writing something
immediately, if it is only to give me something else to think of
than my sermon. After all, I am afraid I do not write intelli
gibly for the people. One has accustomed one's-self to a certain
style of thought and mode of looking at things, so long that
one really cannot get out of it; and to write a good plain
homely sermon would be a most unnatural exercise for me. I
confess that I imitate Newman not purposely, but I cannot
help it. I am not ambitious of being ranked among the servile
cattle (servum pecus imitatorum), but one must follow in the
track which has been laid down for one; so just as young
Evangelicals preach evangelically, though they hardly know
their own system more than they do any other, so I, forsooth,
preach in Newman's way, with the same relation to him that
the Oxford Newdigates have to Pope. However, I mean to
try, for next Sunday, to write a steady practical plain affair, that
even the Provost would approve of, though I cannot write pure
Saxon, not having the pleasure of knowing that language. . . .
Yours affectionately, ". J. B. Mozley.
The close of the Long Vacation he spent in Derby, where
Mr. Newman also paid a visit to his sister: he, James, and
Arthur returning to Oxford together.
To his Sister. Oxford, October 18, 1838.
My dear Anne, — ... I have been busily engaged ever
since coming up with making arrangements for the Hall —
bustling about, calling at the upholsterers, giving orders for
coal. The place is at present airing and warming. It will look
decent enough .when everything is in it. There are quite gay
carpets in both sitting-rooms ; as is natural in fitting up, one
forgets the commonest things at first, till they come upon one
one by one. I shall expect to find numerous deficiencies after all,

84 Letters of the
when I come to the actual habitation of the place, and just at
this moment, the thought of coal scuttles has flitted by me,
and I have booked it in my memoranda.
I have not called on Pusey, as he does not see callers in the
present state of his family [Mrs. Pusey in a most precarious
state] ; but I met him in the street yesterday, and had a little
talk with him. He looked very pale and thin — quite ghastly-
Mrs. Pusey is about the same ; but httle Philip is expected to
recover. He is at Dr. Wootton's at present. Pusey's sermons at
Weymouth are in course of printing, and will soon be out. They ,
are very magnificent productions — so complete and solid; giving
the whole history of our missions from the first, and verifying
every statement by references. This is done in notes ; I hardly
know whether I hke this way of giving information. They
are at the bottom of the page ; and so interfere with the text
of the sermon. Pusey never does anything by halves. I
understand he has made a great sensation at Weymouth ; his
mere appearance of itself would do this, especially just now— it
is imTnp.asnra.bly apostolical. Arthur will fill the turn-over.—
Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
P.S. [from Arthur]. — James has left me to fill up, but I am
not at all aware that one thing has occurred of more importance
than another. We had a fair journey in point of warmth ; the
moment we got to Northampton, James and Newman set off
walking. About six miles from Northampton the coachman
stopped at the railroad station, on pretence of waiting for some
passengers ; but I beheve simply for the amusement of seeing
the arrival of the train. James and Newman, having walked
on, missed the fun — there must have been passengers enough to
fill twenty coaches ; all looking exceedingly comfortable, with
out the wretched appearance people present in bundles of old
clothes on stage coaches. All the ladies looked as if they were
dressed for a fashionable promenade.
To his Sister. Oxford, November 5, 1838.
My dear Anne, — I have a companion at last — S. He is up
to take Harrison's Hebrew Lectures under Pusey, Harrison

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 85
of course being obhged to reside in town. I like him very
much ; he has unwearied spirits, and will talk for hours on the
subject of old hturgies, breviaries, and rubrics. He knows all
the technicalities of them, and has them at his fingers' ends or
tongue's end, more properly speaking. I hke hearing him go
on upon them, from the amazing zest and relish which he has
for the thing, quite amounting to epicureanism ; though, I con
fess, I should be sorry to have to give an account when it was
over. He is decidedly clever, besides the immense information
he has on these points, and has a good idea of a joke, which
somehow or another he manages to introduce, even into his
liturgical conversation ; though you would not think the two
very compatible. What do yon think of my article having
been alluded to in a sort of way from the University pulpit ?
It is absurd enough — but so it is — only very slightly, but
enough to recognise the allusion. Mr. Gresley (the author of a
book on preaching — Ecclesiastes Anglicanus), stuck up for the
phrase " ready-made apparatus," and thought it had been too
hardly handled.1 We ought to unite, he said, the lofty and the
practical parts of our system. I quite agree with him; but
Dr. Chalmers separated them, and that in the broadest and
coarsest way. Eogers, who was behind me, declared he just saw
the tips of ears turning red. I confess to a temporary suffu
sion ; but it was only for a moment. There were not half a
dozen persons in church who knew either the article itself or
that I had written it ; so I might have spared myself even that
piece of consciousness. Newman heard from H. the other day
—finding fault with Keble's article, that it was strained;
how he could really think so, I cannot imagine, Keble's theory
seems to fit Scott [Sir Walter Scott] so perfectly. Every one
remarks it as a case of extraordinary adaptation. — Yours affec
tionately, j. b. Mozley.
As a sequel to the portrait in the last letter, we give a pas
sage from the home letter that follows in order :—
"I am obliged to change my tone a little about S., who,
1 See British Critic, Palgrave's Truths and Fictions of the Middle Ages,
1838, vol. xxiv. p. 393.

86 Letters of the
though a very good fellow, is a decided bore as a talker; you
know a week's additional experience is important on such a
point. He talks so continuously, copiously, and pertinaciously
on his own subjects wherever he is, that it is really no use
asking one's friends to come to see one ; if they come the result
invariably is that they have come to hear S., not to see me, or
each other. It is perfectly vain and useless any one trying to
give adequate expression to any idea in S.'s presence — he is
overwhelmed immediately. In spite of this, I like S. very
much in many points ; but be wants setting down — I have
the will, but not the power."
Again, criticising his style of polemical writing : —
" S., you must know, is a most curious mixture of theology
and erudition, with an immense taste for scurrility and the
newspaper handbill style of literature ; but, however, he is a
capital person in his way — and all have their own way of doing
things." To his Sister. December 6, 1838.
. . . Tom's pamphlet, of course, I have read, and think it
extremely clever and amusing ; there cannot be two opinions
about that. Newman thinks the same, and is rather annoyed
on that account ; as he would like to have had it in the British
Critic instead.1 I think it would have been better too, perhaps ;
but persons have their own way of doing things. All here to
whom I have shown the pamphlet are excessively taken with it,
I was treated as one of the public. The first intimation at least
I had of the thing, was receiving it from the bookseller, "with
the author's compliments." . . . However, this does not interfere
with the cleverness of the pamphlet. It is rather too clever ii
anything, that it has too much point in it at every turn. The
plums are rather too thick ; but this, I suppose, is unavoidable
1 "A clergyman of South Wilts has written anonymously ' A Dissection
of the Queries' of Lord John Russell on the amount of Religious Instruction
and Education (Rivingtons), with so much cutting force and such felicity
of expression, that it is a thousand pities he has not operated on a more
public stage." — Notice in British Critic, vol. xxv. p. 255, January 1839.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 87
with good writing, when the writer is fresh at his trade. He
soon learns a httle insipidity, and is more at his ease and less
anxious about the opinion of the reader at every turn. . . .
Newman's new volume (Sermons, vol. iv.), that he has sent, he
intends to present to those who are employed on the com
munion-cloth. My mother is to be the trustee of the gift, so
now your perplexity is settled. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister. Oxford, January 16, 1839.
. . . Have you seen Gladstone's book ? [The State in its Rela
tions with the Church], John should order it, if he can, into the
library. It is a very noble book, I beheve, and has damaged, if
not destroyed, his prospects with the Conservatives. People are
saying now, " Poor fellow," and so on. Hope of Merton told
Newman this, as what he heard in town, and also said persons
out of the political world could not understand the sacrifice
Gladstone had made. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. February 11, 1839.-
. . . The Chevalier Bunsen has been here, staying with
Acland at All Souls. Of course he has been made a lion, and
dined and breakfasted at many places ; among the rest, in our
common room with Newman, where I saw him. He is a short,
corpulent man, with a bright, red face and sharp eyes, decidedly
clever-looking, but you would not think him exactly a philoso
pher. He is a prodigious talker — literally talks unceasingly,
and has a most amusing way of silencing others by lifting
up his finger. If any one seems disposed to interrupt him, he
says, " Oh, I 'm going to that ; I '11 tell you that presently," and
goes on swimmingly as before. However, he is really amusing,
and therefore no one complains. He does give one positive
gratification. The way in which he tells stories and describes
persons is capital. He was a great patron of Bieni, at Borne,
the Pope's composer, and told us very interesting things about

88 Letters of the
him : how that he was a priest, and went about from six in the
morning to twelve, hearing the prisoners' confessions in the
different jails ; and then set to at music. He (Bieni) was the
great preserver of Palestrina's works and the old music, when the
French came to Eome. The latter sold them out of the libraries—
as they did numberless other papers — to the confectioners, and
Bieni collected them by hook and by crook afterwards, with his
own money, to the number of thirty-six folio volumes, all made
up of bits and scraps, and restored again. Bunsen is a hard
worker, and that morning he breakfasted with us had got
up two hours before, and been reading Pusey's letter on the
Sacrifice, which subject he discoursed upon to Newman. . . .
Mr. Gleig, the author of The Subaltern, preached at St. Mary's
yesterday, a flowing, well-written sermon, with nothing in it.
S. Wilberforce preached too, I thought a better sermon than
ever I had heard from him, with high ideas in it. He is sadly
pompous, though, both in style and dehvery. Write before
long, though I have no right to insist on a very speedy answer.
When does my father go to Cholderton ? He might as well
rest here on his way when he does go. — Yours affectionately,
James Mozley.
February 23, 1839.
We had a grand diocesan education meeting here on Thurs
day, when the bishop presided. It was for the new schools
that are to be raised throughout the country for the middling
class of people — that is, just above the labouring class — in con
nection with the Church. There is a society in town for the
purpose, of which Wood and Acland, among others, are the
delegates, and have been going about the country explaining
the object of it. . . . Gladstone's book has come to a third
edition, which is a great deal in so short a time.
To Mrs. Thomas Mozley. March 6, 1839.
Dear Harriett,— . . . They say the greater sinner the
greater saint ; so Tom will beat all of us together in working
when once he buckles to. We certainly are idle in Oxford ; there

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 89
is no denying it ; at least I am, and I will answer for several of
my friends. I think the advantages of Oxford lie in a moral
rather than in an intellectual direction. We are idle and
innocent, as Shakespeare says.1 Either this is the account of
it, or else it is that J. H. N. works for aU of us put together.
Here have I hardly done anything at all for my Article in the
next British Critic, though J. H. N. is particularly anxious
about it. How am I ever to string together, in anything hke
method, all the bits and scraps and snips and snails, in the
shape of reports, messages, paragraphs, and the like, that have
come out on the subject of the Tracts ? I have hardly an idea.
. . . Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister. Oxford, April 3, 1839.
. . . The American Bishop [Hopkins, Bishop of Vermont] 2
made his appearance yesterday just before dinner. I was
1 ^bout this time the idea seems to have occurred to J. B. M. of keeping
some record of conversations^ probably of no common interest, in which
he was a sharer. He does not seem to have gone much further than the
thought, but one slight record is found among his papers, leaving no doubt
of the chief speaker, if there were no initial letter. The reader of New
man's Sermons will recall that on The Invisible World, where the brute crea
tion is brought forward as an argument. " All is mystery about them. Is
it not plain to our senses that there is a world inferior to us in the scale of
beings with which we are connected, without understanding what it is 1" etc.
(The fragment is headed " Wild Beasts." " N. — "White polar bear : what
a dreadful specimen of restlessness and impatience in an animal ! — quite
miserable. Wild beasts seem a kind of fragment of some great world that
we do not see — such extraordinary developments they are, morally speaking.
P- — To see a lion suffering under the treatment of a common showman, the
lowest fellow possible — a lion, a creature that has a history of its own, as
man has, and done great actions that are talked of — is a degrading spectacle.
N. — I have not any great sympathies with those animals ; I do not take
that view of them. They are sulky, unaccountable creatures." ..." The
Theatre." " N. — I think the notion of turning plays to moral purposes a mere
theory. They must be things to please the multitude. I believe plays do
not go down without a good deal of swearing in them. And there is some
thing to be got over in the acting itself ; the putting on a certain character,
dressing and showing-off before an audience. P. — Yes ; but is not poetry
axd/injcris, according to Plato ? N. — Are we bound to take Plato ? — however,
a poet works himself up in his own room by himself, which is a different
thing. P. — Ah, but he publishes, fi. — Yes, afterwards. After he has
written, but the two acts are different.fj
2 See B. C, p. 281 : his work reprinted in London, 1839.

90 Letters of the
engaged, which was a nuisance. . . . However, we left soon and
went to common room, where his Lordship was in great force,
talking away to a circle about him on all sorts of ecclesiastical
subjects. He is really a learned person, and very sharp too,
ready in bringing out what he knows and arguing upon it. He
was in the law for ten years before going into the Church, which
may partly account for this. This morning he and Newman
have been holding a long confab, which has increased New
man's idea of him. You must know, however, that to us who
are accustomed to the baronial Hildebrandish bishops, or
rather the descendants of them (unworthy though they may
be), he is not a person one would take all at once for a bishop,
having a slight approximation to the Methodist dignitary
about him — say the President of the Conference or some such
official. Not that he is anything of a Methodist in opinion,
He has worked himself to quite the contrary — that is, to High
Church views — in an extraordinary way, entirely by his own
reading, which has been considerable, in the Fathers; and he is
quite alive to what the wants of the Church are at present,
and would introduce important changes into his own country,
or ' our country,' as the American expression is. ... I must
not forget the British Critic amongst all these things, or omit
telling the admiration I feel for Tom's Church and King, which
I think beautiful, both in idea and in the way it is brought out,
. . . C. Marriott is as serene and grave as ever amidst all ex
citement. ... I forgot to say that Johnson of Magdalen Hall is
standing for the place of Eadcliffe Observer, vacant by Eigaud's
death. It has hitherto been held with the Professorship, but
need not be, the two being upon distinct foundations. Johnson
has not even taken his degree yet, but any one can stand for
the Observership, whereas it must be an M.A. for the other,
The electors are the Eadcliffe Trustees, who are quite indepen
dent of the University. Lord Sidmouth, Mr. Estcourt, Sir
Eobert Peel, Mr. Cartwright, M.P. for Northampton, are of the
body. Johnson will have capital claims to show, having
erected an observatory himself at the Cape, and superintended
it as the temporary astronomer for three years, besides his
book. — Yours, J. B. M.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 91
The next letter teUs of the election. From that time Mr.
Johnson was a person of mark in Oxford.1 It was at his house
(as the Apologia tells us), that Mr. Newman passed his last
evening in Oxford — "I slept on Sunday night at my dear
friend Mr. Johnson's, at the Observatory," — before leaving
Oxford for good. I myself, with only a slight acquaintance,
can well understand the feeling entertained for Mr. Johnson by
intimate friends. I look back to 1849, when, sitting by him
at dinner, he told me of having met in London, Newman and
his friends, lately returned from Eome. Tears came to his
eyes as he recalled the scene. One perceived that natural
feeling had been allowed its full play unchecked by insular
shyness. In a few hnes to his brother Tom, J. B. M. alludes to Mrs. T.
Mozley's first essay in authorship. I may say here, that she
inaugurated in the Fairy Bower the class of story or novel
for young people of the well-trained thoughtful order which
has been a characteristic of our day. May 23, 1839.
... I heard of the new character in which she [Harriett]
is going to appear before the world from J. H. N. before
Anne's letter, which revealed it to me as a profound secret ;
giving also, at the same time, a very fine account of the im
pression the work itself had caused at home ; which shows that
they speak more good of it behind H.'s back than they do to
her face. What surprises me chiefly at present, which is the
only point I know about it, is the expedition of the performance.
- . . Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister Maria. June 27, 1839.
. . . Oxford is fairly launched in this said Long now ; and
the caps and gowns have disappeared. Oriel is quite deserted,
1 The reader is referred to the chapter devoted to him in the Rev. Thomas
Mozley's Reminiscences.

92 Letters of the
all being gone except Newman and myself. The Commemora
tion, of which, by the way, I hardly have told yon anything,
went off very weU. Wordsworth was enthusiastically received
in the Theatre, and was, I heard afterwards, much affected by
it, though he did not show the slightest feeling on the occasion.
I was glad to have seen him, for reaUy these great men are
dying off so fast, that it is now or never with them. I sat
opposite to him on the morning after, at a grand breakfast
party given by Frank Faber of Magdalen, to which he was
so kind as to ask me — a very good-natured thing of him, as
I hardly knew him. Keble and all his party were there:
Newman also ; so it was really a galaxy that one has not often
the opportunity of enjoying. Wordsworth did not talk much
for the public ear : indeed one would not have liked it if he
bad, though it would have gratified one's curiosity more. Once
he thanked Keble across the table for a compliment Keble had
paid him in his Oration in the Theatre. I thought his style of
acknowledgment rather more stiff than it need be, in fact a
little inclined to pomposity. He is in private, I believe, an
immense talker ; and seemed to be talking a good deal during
the breakfast, though it was only to his next neighbour, and in
a low voice. Palmer's father-in-law, Captain Beaufort, had a
D.C.L. ; as also the Chevalier Bunsen. Arnold came from
Eugby to see Wordsworth, whom he met at the Provost's to
lunch, after the Theatre. Newman also gave a spread in
the Common Eoom to the Kebles. The party consisted of
Mrs. Keble and Mrs. Tom Keble, the little girl and boy, and
Miss Coxwell, a cousin. Mr. Bowyer, the author of the
article on the Disciphne Bill in the British Critic, — for which
article, by the way, be got his degree, having been recom
mended by the Bishop of Exeter in consequence of it, — was
there. He is quite young, looks ingenuous and pleasing.
I liked his looks. A degree is just the thing to have got
for him, as, owing to his father's extravagance, he has not
been at the University. . . .—Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 93
J. B. M. to T. M.
July 10, 1839.
My dear Tom, — I have been intending to write to you these
several days past to congratulate you on your articles [in the
B. ft] which I think are very successful, and out and out the
best things in the review. Of course the Temperance one was
the first to be read ; and I should say that perhaps it is my
favourite of the two, though it is absurd to compare when the
subjects are so different. One naturally looks into a review for
amusement first, and then edification in due time, and so
is inclined to like best what satisfies the first feeling most
easily. I fully expect to see it quoted in the papers before
long. As I have begun to criticise, I. will just say that I think
the first part of the Evidences the most successful. The
middle inchnes to being too deep for a review, according to
people's general way of reading. I entirely agree with it of
course; and particularly with that part where you say you
write at the risk of being misunderstood.
This is not very fine weather for John and Jemima ; here
at least we have April over again. Mrs. Small [mother of the
Littlemore schoolmistress] is living in the expectation of see
ing Jemima and httle Herbert. Every time I go to Littlemore
she asks me about their coming ; and talks of it as the only
important event that is to happen to her in this world.
Do you know of Pusey's having been thrown off the coach
with little Philip, going from Brighton ? There is a sharp turn
of the road opposite Arundel Castle, and he was lifting up
Philip to see the place, when the jerk caused by turning sent
them both off, he having no hold at the time. They are not
seriously hurt, though it is impossible to say what the effects
will be in a person so weak as Pusey is just now. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
J. B. M. to H. E. M.
July 25, 1839.
My dear Harriett, — I write to ask whether yon will take
me in if I go to see you for a few days. We are a party of us
here going down to the consecration of Keble's church at Otter-

94 Letters of the
bourne. I had not thought of going myself; only, others going,
one is drawn in by a kind of sympathy. Perhaps one or two
of yon may be there. Why not ? I should think you could
manage it somehow or other. That pony is a wonderful animal,
and will do anything if his strength is brought out. J. H. N,
is of the party to Hursley, but I am afraid he has no intention
of paying you a visit ; indeed we go post in order to save time.
He comes back the next day to his children, whom he is pre
paring for confirmation ; and Long Vacation is valuable, he
says, for reading; he can spare less of it than any other
time. Johnson also is going. He has been here for some time
superintending his house fitting up. The rest are Morris,
Bloxam. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley
To his Sister. Oxford, November 24, 1839.
... I am losing my last remaining companion in the House,
Barker, who is going to be T. Keble's curate, and will be there
till his ordination, in order to get a knowledge of the place be
fore he begins. There is no one at hand just now that one- can
see to supply the places of all these desertions, so I feel myself
to be inhabiting a whole house all for nothing, which is living
in state indeed, but is not a very comfortable idea. The Lincoln
Fellows are beginning to find out that they have done a precipe
tate thing, and say that they had no idea of electing a theolo
gian, for which assurance one can give them ample credit, as
perhaps it never entered into any of their beads that Colleges
were founded at all for theological purposes.
Pusey preached last Sunday, the first time in Oxford since
his wife's death.1 When he came to the last sentence of the
prayer before the sermon, in which the dead are mentioned, he
came to a complete stand-still, and I thought would never have
gone on. He has very httle mastery over his feelings. In the
course of the sermon there was a piece of friendly advice given
to the Heads of Houses, for which they would not be much
obliged to him. He had been talking of increase of luxury
1 Mrs. Pusey died May 26, 1839.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 95
amongst the under-graduates, of late years, from which he took
occasion to say that those in station might do well to live more
simply than they did. He dropped his voice at this part,
which had the effect of course of giving increased solemnity
to the admonition; for there was breathless silence in the
church at the time. Pusey however meant the under-graduates
not to hear, as he told Newman with the utmost simplicity
after. It was to have been a sort of an aside from the preacher
in the pulpit to the Vice-Chancellor over the way. The Master
of Balliol was seen to march out of church afterwards with
every air of offended dignity. The best of it was, the main
body of the sermon had been quite in the general, on the
vanity ©f human life, etc. — quite proper and unobjectionable.
The heads were looking serene and composed, when, ah on a
sudden eomes this highly practical turn to the subject.
So S. Wilberforce is the new Archdeacon of Surrey. I
suppose his late speeches in Devonshire have done something
for him. The Bishop could hardly keep him out of office after
he had done himself so much credit. . . .
Eogers and Donkin have set up a few small private concerts,
to be held in succession, at different common-rooms. Elvey
and two or three other professional men will attend, and the
rest are amateurs. Heathcote of New College, the splendid
bass voice, is one. I am admitted of course only as a hstener.
The affair promises well. Donkin will take care only to have
good music. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
J. B. M. to his Sister, M. M.
Oxford, January 10, 1840.
. . . We have had another Eoman Catholic visitor here now,
in the person of Mr. Spencer, Lord Spencer's brother. He is
Palmer of Magdalen's guest, and is staying two or three days.
Newman was asked to meet him, but dechned ; so be called on
Newman and had a long talk.1 Newman liked him, but thought
1 I had an unspeakable aversion to the policy and acts of Mr. O'Connell
because, as I thought, he associated himself with men of all religions and no
religion, against the Anglican Church, and advanced Catholicism by vio
lence and intrigue. When, then, I found him taken up by the English

96 Letters of the
him too smooth and staid. He is much more tolerant than mosi
of bis party, and disapproves of the Irish Eoman Cathohcs, bul
hopes much of the Enghsh ones. He walked to Littlemort
yesterday. I do not know Palmer, so probably shall not set
him, which I am sorry for. — Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
The year 1840 is distinguished as introducing the Penny
Post. It is true in the case before us that, as the writer says,
the fact of writing a letter is all the same so far as the
process is concerned, whether it costs a penny or eightpence,
The change made no difference in his style, but perhaps it may
be doubted if the habit of writing full home letters would
have been formed under such altered conditions.
To his Sister. Oxford, January 22, 1840. .'
I have not taken so much advantage of the penny postage
as I might have done. In fact, writing a letter- is ah the same,
so far as the process is concerned, whether it cost a penny or
eightpence. Term begins on Saturday, which I am really sorry
for ; you find all Oxford men complain of the change from vaca
tion to term ; never of the reverse. We have had a rather
pleasant interesting man visiting us this week ; a Mr. Bellasis,
a barrister from London, very High Church, a friend of Ward
of Balhol, who happens to be away now. Newman and others
have entertained him. It is amusing to see the variety of a
London barrister in Oxford. Of the London element he retains
enough to make a change from what one commonly sees here ;
though with none of the disagreeable features of it; for
example, he is so much more fluent, and can give regular
narrations with spirit, showing a person who has been accus-
Catholics, and, as I supposed, at Rome, I considered I had a fulfilment
before my eyes, how the Court of Rome played fast and loose, and fulfilled
the bad points I had seen put down in books against it. Here we saw what
Rome was in action, whatever she might be when quiescent. Her conduct
was simply secular and political. This feeling led me into the excess of being
very rude to the zealous and most charitable man, Mr. Spencer, when he
came to Oxford in January 1840. See Apologia, Part v.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 97
tomed to argue and make speeches. . . . Thursday. — I did not
send this letter yesterday from stinginess, because I should
have had to pay twopence for being late, and pennies now are
valuable things, which is one advantage of the penny post — it
makes one richer. Newman has heard from Cholderton this
morning. Tom is in a difficulty as to the two volumes [Froude's
Remains, second series] being on such different subjects. Each
is certainly worth a review in itself. Eogers, writing to
Newman, says he find's it is the fashion at Cambridge to despise
the vulgar clamour against Froude, and make out a common
ground between him and themselves on the ground of intellect.
Other points of course are inferior matters. They have formed
such an extreme idea of his amiableness from his letters that
they cannot imagine him able to be distant or severe to any
one, even where principle was concerned. This is odd, as
being so different from the common impression made. . . .
Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
Oxford, February 15, 1840.
The theological meetings are set up again, having been only
discontinued on account of Mrs. Pusey's illness. The first was
last night. Newman read a paper on the Monophysite Heresy,
which perhaps will not convey many ideas to you any more
than it did to myself before the information I received last
night. Pusey, Williams, and Keble are to be the other contri
butors this term. To his Sister.
[After dwelhng on the circumstances ©f a sad death] —
Oxford, February 25, 1840.
Things of a murderous character have been going on here
also of late, though they have not terminated fatally, or are
likely to end in anything else than a sentence on the culprit
by the Vice-Chancellor of either fine or rustication. Ward
(of Trinity) who has just published the Statutes of Magdalen,
has been challenging Sewell (a Fellow of Magdalen) — they say
not without provocation : only those who live in glass houses
G

98 Letters of the
should not throw stones ; and if a person cannot stomach an
affront, he should not in the first place set the University
against him by showing them up to the Eadical public. A good
deal of correspondence passed between him and Sewell on this
business ; the latter, who is a lawyer, having taken up the cause
of his own College, though without any authority from the
body to do it. . . . But the whole thing has been mismanaged
from the first, the College not having done anything as a body ;
so that individuals in it have done what they liked. In this
way the injunction was obtained, which was a most impolitic
proceeding. Well, Ward and Sewell corresponded, and the
latter, who is a thoroughly cool fellow, managed to irritate
Ward by degrees, till a kind of ambiguous something about
satisfaction was mentioned. Sewell writes back to say that
had Ward clearly demanded the satisfaction of a gentleman in
the obvious sense of that expression he should have known what
course to pursue, — that is, he meant, have laid the note before
the Vice-Chancellor ; but Ward seems to have taken another
view of the words, which was probably that intended for him
to take; and accordingly the next answer brings a formal
challenge. Sewell having gained his point proceeds to the
Vice-Chancellor and gives him the note. Ward is Deputy
High Steward of the University, which is a kind of judicial
situation, though merely nominal ; and therefore his conduct is
so much the more nnacademical. What will be done to him
is not known, but probably he will be treated very leniently,
from the provocation he had, and still more from the dislike
there will be to seem to persecute. The Vice-Chancellor is
very kind to him ; and will give him every chance. Br. Ogle
is Ward's great friend, however : goes with him and sits by
him in the court, and pulls his sleeve, and prevents him from
breaking out into rages. This is excessively good-natured; but
Dr. Ogle has always had rather a liking for him. He is, after
all, more a weak intemperate person than a malignant; and
people in general are rather disposed to take his part against
Sewell. The President of Magdalen has come out in a way
which makes people smile. Sewell called on him on receiving
the challenge, thinking that he should of course have the

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 99
warmest sympathy from the President, and commendation
for his moderation. But the President was so obtuse or so
malicious that he did not at all enter into the delicacy of
the situation. " WeU, sir, and do your friends object to your
giving satisfaction?" SeweU could only say that the best
friend he had in the world did ; namely, himself. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
Pugin at this date was a (perhaps the) great architectural
authority, and his name interesting to the home circle as the
architect of a new Eoman Catholic Chapel in Derby, noticed
in the articles 011 Churches preparing for the British Critic ;
the woodcut iUustrations for which were then in the hands
of his correspondent. To his Sister. Oxford, February 27, 1840.
My dear Anne, — Pugin came on Friday, last week, and stayed
over the Sunday. I dined with him on the Saturday and Sunday.
On the latter day Newman dined. It was his birthday, and
Bloxam had asked him before Pugin's coming. However, be
had no objection to meet him in a small party. Pugin was
infinitely amusing, in his peculiar way, architecture of course,
church ceremonies, hturgies, antiquities of all kinds being the
subjects. He is the most unwearied talker, for a spirited one,
that I ever heard. From six o'clock to eleven on Saturday
was he on the move, never stopping, and when he left off he
was quite the same as he was when he began. Plato would set
him down as one of his irascible characters ; for everything moves
his wrath, especially in architecture. Such an one ought to be
hanged for building such a steeple. He is never satisfied with
half terms, but sends people to their final destination, the
instant they become offensive. I said the Dean of York ought
to be suspended — "In what way, sir?" as quick as lightning.
His disgust when we told him of the new church in the
Arabesque style about to be built at Wilton was most amusing.
He will not admit any style of architecture for churches but

ioo Letters of the
the genuine Gothic, which he considers the maturity of the art,
and all before it merely steps. So he could not bear even the
Byzantine style being introduced at aU here, or in India,
When I asked whether be would allow any variety on accoimt
of the chmate and situation, be said the pointed arch, and
nothing but that, ought to prevail' wherever Christianity ex
isted. His summary judgments are as amusing a feature in
him as any, and he has powers of language and quickness fully
equal to express them ; whatever extremity of disgust they
may imply. So conversation, as you may easily suppose, is a
dehghtful exercise to him. Before Newman he was not quite
so vigorous. Lord Shrewsbury's not being present at the
opening of the chapel in Derby was owing to him. Mr. Singe,
it seems, is one of the old school of Boman Catholics who unite
with Liberals, and want to attract people to their places by
music and concerts. Pugin had all along solemnly protested
against any other but organ music at the opening ; but what
was his disgust on the night before, when he saw a man with
a fiddle-case making his way to the organ loft. He could
hardly forbear knocking him over with his own fiddle. How
ever, he forthwith wrote to Lord Shrewsbury to- explain why
he (P.) would not be present, and the latter, having- the same
views, withdrew also. The gaslights, that have been introduced
since then, excited Pugin?s displeasure immensely when he
saw the place last. In fact he has washed his hands- now clean
of the place, and hardly considers it his own. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
J. B. M. always shows himself tolerant of great talkers. His
temperament fitted him for the part of listener. The flow of
speech, where there was fire and energy of expression, stimulated
his speculative vein. The inexhaustible talker was a study on
which he was content to dweU ; he did not grudge him his
monopoly. He could patiently wait his turn — resigned if it
never came — while thought was busy on the man as well as his
topic, on the phenomena that interminable powers of utterance
were to him. Thus we- see that, though architecture was not his

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 101
line as it was his brother's, he could hsten unwearied to, Pugin
debating on his one theme; — to a "scornful invective," for
example, on the subject of papier-mache" as a substitute for oak
carving (one of the monstrous heresies of the day) : " I never
heard such a man — quite wonderful his powers of talking —
both for endlessness and unflagging spirit."
To his Sister. Oxford, March 7, 1840.
My dear Anne, — I ought to congratulate Charles first on
his birthday [February 29], that being so rare an occurrence in
his life. We are remarkably quiet just now ; the only thing that
has made a stir lately being the affair between Ward and Sewell
that I told you of. Sentence of Bannitio was pronounced on
the offender, which sounds very awful ; but it really only goes
to exclude him from coming into Oxford for the rest of this
term. As Ward does not live in the town, but at Headington,
this will, of course, be no great infliction on him. They were
purposely as lenient as they could be, on account of the provoca
tion Sewell had given. Last Sunday the judges, Patterson and
Gurney, went to St. Mary's to bear Newman — not in their
wigs of course. This is a sign of things getting into notice.
Bloxam is going to, or rather has given up, Littlemore, and
Copeland is thinking of it. . . .
I will teU you some good things to read — though not sure
they are quite in your way : viz., Carlyle's Chartism ; the
article on Lord Clive in the last Edinburgh, and the one on
the Penny Postage in the same. Carlyle is a very striking
writer; full of a sort of grim humour: — the grin-horribly-a-
ghastly-smile kind of style ; the subject, too, being one which
develops such a power well. This is not an inviting or flowery
description to give of an author; but for a variety he is
wonderfully impressive. Lord Chve is Macaulay' s. I recom
mend the Penny Post to John ; it is very clever and sharply
written, but not quite fair always. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.

102 Letters of the
To his Sister. March 17, 1840.
Dear Anne, — . . . By the way, I have a book from Isaac
Williams — a present to Jemima ; a copy of bis last volume of
poems, which she shall have at the earliest opportunity. I
hope she has not bought it. A modest author, like Isaac
WUliams, does not. take this into account. How do you like
the dedication to the Church of the Fathers ? Williams was not
in the shgbtest degree aware of such an honour coming till he
saw his own name in print. It seems to me as if it were a
translation of some old patristic dedication rather than an
original one. . . . Yours, J. B. M.
To Mrs. Thomas Mozley he had written : —
"Your brother's Church of the Fathers is out, dedicated to
Isaac WUliams : ' The sight of whom reminds his friends of
holy, happy, and primitive times,' which is more than one could
say of the sight of a great many persons ; I think those are the
words. The book is to bring out the character of the Fathers,
and show them as men, that they were not always folios."
To his Sister. Oxford, April 4, 1840.
My dear Anne, — Of course you have read half through the
British Critic by this time. I have only read the Froude article
[by T. M.]. ... It gives too much the impression of Froude as a
philosopher simply, instead of one who was constantly bringing
his general maxims to bear most forcibly and pointedly on the
present state of things ; on particular classes, sects, and parties.
It does not bring out Froude's great practical and almost
lawyer-like penetration. The first two or three pages about
Froude personally, I like very much.1
1 The author of the article was as critical on its shortcomings, as a
whole, as any of his readers. Some sentences, from the opening, one is
tempted to give : " The contents of the present collection are very miscel
laneous, and rather fragments and sketches than complete composition*
This, of course, might be expected in the works of a man whose days were
few and interrupted by illness, if, indeed, that may be called an interruption
which, at least all the period in which the pages before us were written, was

Rev. J. B. Mozley, D.D. 103

To his Sister.
The Altar-cloth arrived in Oxford on Thursday, and was
despatched to Littlemore yesterday; I have not seen it yet,
but shaU take the earliest opportunity. I suppose it will be
put up on Easter Eve, for the Sunday. Newman preaches at
Littlemore that day, and comes to Oxford after service, after
which Copeland takes the place. Newman's catechising has
been a great attraction this Lent, and men have gone out of
Oxford every Sunday to bear it. I heard him last Sunday,
and thought it very striking : done with such spirit, and the
children so up to it ; answering with the greatest alacrity. It
would have provoked some people's bile immoderately to have
heard them all unanimous on the point of the nine orders of
angels ; the definiteness of the number being in itself a great
charm to the minds of the children. He has been also teaching
them to sing, during the week-time, and the fiddle has been
brought into requisition, considerably to their astonishment;
he found it the best way possible of keeping them in tune. St.
Mary's, as you may suppose, during this interval, has been con
siderably thinned, though very good sermons have been preached
there by Copeland, Ward, and Spranger. It was curious to
every day sensibly drawing him to his grave. In Mr. Proude's case, how
ever, we cannot set down much of this incompleteness to the score of illness.
The strength of his religious impressions, the boldness and clearness of his
views, his long habits of self-denial, and his unconquerable energy of mind
triumphed over weakness and decay, till men, with all their health and
strength about them, might gaze upon his attenuated form, struck with a
certain awe of wonderment at the brightness of his wit, the intenseness
of his mental vision, and the iron strength of his argument. . . . We
will venture a remark or two with regard to that ironical turn, which
certainly does appear in various shapes in the first part of these Remains.
Unpleasant as irony may sometimes be, there need not go with it, and, in
this instance, there did not go with it the smallest real asperity of temper.
Who that remembers the inexpressible sweetness of his smile, or the deep
and melancholy pity with which he would speak of those whom he felt to
be the victims of modern delusion, would not be forward to contradict such
a suspicion ? Such expressions, we will venture to say, and not harshness,
or anger, or gloom, animate the features of that countenance, which will
never cease to haunt the memory of those who knew him. His irony
arose from that peculiar mode in which he viewed all earthly things, himself
and all that was dear to him not excepted. It was his poetry." — British
Critic, April 1840, p. 396.

104 Letters of the
see, however, how many continued to go out of habit, though
knowing that Newman was away.1
The writer of the Magdalen Statutes article [in the April
number of the British Critic] everybody thinks to be Hope, of
Merton, whose name you may have heard. Oakeley is the
writer of the first [the Church Service] ; he is, as you observe,
rather stiff and formal in his style, and wants spirit. Some
good reviews, as yon say, are wanted for the B. C. Essay after
essay, however good each may be in itself, gives a prosing effect,
viewed as a series. Eogers should write some more poetry
articles ; critiques are what keep up the Quarterly. Montrose
is Le Bas's. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
The Altar-cloth mentioned in the last letter had been under
taken, under Mrs. John Mozley's auspices, for Littlemore Church.
Mr. Newman had wished for one, and left it with his sister and
ber sisters-in-law, such near neighbours as to constitute in a
sense one family, to work one. It may be said that zeal and
ignorance worked hand in hand throughout the arduous task;
nothing was known of the laws of ecclesiastical needle-work
by any of the party. The youngest sister — now lost to us—
whose taste would have ruled a few years later, was too young
to have a voice ; Mr. Newman bad no opinions on the subject,
It was his way to trust the good-wiU of his friends, and to
hope the best from their endeavours. As one of the workers, I
make these admissions, only pleading that the ignorance was
not of the presumptuous order. There was no authority to be
consulted — no formed taste in the matter of church needle
work anywhere ; it bad to be awakened ; and, as far as I know,
the Littlemore Altar-cloth was this awakener. It gave the start ;
though its own fate — the shape being altogether out of ecclesias
tical order — was, when Littlemore Church came to other hands,
to be banished to the colonies, as I have heard, giving place,
no doubt, to something more in harmony with the new order,
1 See Apologia, Part v. : "I meditated retirement to Littlemore. ... I
gave myself up to teaching in the Poor School, and practising the choir."

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 105
To his Sister.
The Altar-cloth creates great admiration, with the exception,
as of course you must expect, of a few criticisms ; the chief of
which is the one you suggest yourself. . . . Eogers seemed to
have a few to make; but did not express them decidedly.
Looking at the needle-work, I can easily understand the
immense time it must have taken. . . . [Again, AprU 20.] You
are quite right in saying that I have not seen the Altar-cloth.
In the chapel it was quite another thing ; I saw the whole first
in a hurried way in Newman's httle room. . . . Indeed, I can only
say, and it is in perfect sincerity, not from any wish to please or
flatter, that I think it a beautiful performance ; there is a grace
and splendour about it which is quite ethical, and which ele
vates and composes the mind to look at. ... I went up to
Littlemore to the morning service to-day (Easter Monday) ; the
children were all dressed in pink bonnets and white tippets.
This last notice of Easter adornings is a sequel to the Lenten
catechisings. To his Sister. Oxford, May 5,1840.
Dear Anne, — Harriett has doubtless told you of all our
Cholderton doings, but I have nothing else at present to talk
about. I have enjoyed my visit very much. ... On Friday
morning we aU went to Durnford. The greater part then
immediately set off in two pony carriages to the C.s ; why, I
cannot imagine. Durnford is the most beautiful place possible
now; besides which I did not feel disposed to cramp up my
legs in a pony carriage any longer, having already taken two
drives in the course of the morning. The people in these
parts have no idea of any one using his legs ; they are quite
astonished at any one preferring a walk to a drive, though you
only have to walk over the way. Legs have vanished alto
gether from their notion of the human shape ; they are never
taken into account, and in their place four wheels appear, two
small ones in front, two large ones behind, converting man into
a kind of centaur or large spider. I, as I observed, boasting a

106 Letters of the
pair of legs, declined taking part in the expedition, and pro
ceeded with Tom to walk in the grounds. Tom went into the
manor-house — the old building near the church— and began
to poke about some old chairs and screens, on which I made
off and had an hour's ramble in the woods; returned, and
overheard Tom and Mr. Thurland talking in the churchyard ;
retreated again to the woods. It was a splendid day, and I
never saw a place look better. Tom had a long argument with
Mr.  , on the subject of the old monks and hermits. His
opponent prosed considerably ; Tom was, as usual, victorious.
Mr. Fowle was not well, and hardly opened his mouth. I have
taken a great liking to Mr. Fowle 1 (vicar of Amesbury) ; his
amiable qualities and frankness appear more and more every
time one sees him. ... I have not said about our party. Con
ceive the shock I had to endure. There were three ladies and
a whole heap of men ; the room was fiUed with men. Tom, by
some exquisite management, made all the three ladies sit together
at table [no doubt in his horror of draughts]. What more can
I say ? I did not recover myself for some time afterwards. I
beg to say, however, that it was not from any selfish motive.
I should have felt the same disgust if I had had to take a
bird's-eye view of the proceedings. Luckily, Mrs. S. was
opposite my part of the table, and talked a good deal ; she is
an agreeable person. ... To be continued. — Yours affection
ately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. May 9, 1 840.
As soon as I came up from Cholderton, I found several per
sons expecting that I was going down forthwith to Christie's
to help him for an indefinite period ; I never having had the
thing mentioned to me. I knew Christie was in rather sad
case, and felt suitable compassion, and had really almost made
up my mind to go yesterday (only for the term); but on
mature consideration I am resolving it to be a bore to leave
1 " H. E. M. has found that Mr. Fowle, whom you know, is cousin of our
favourite, Miss Austin. Harriett, of course, asked a great many questions,
and made out that she was an exceedingly nice, amiable, pretty person, just
what one would wish her to be." l

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 107
Oxford immediately, after one has come up to it again with
the intention of staying the term. And Christie's, after all,
is not a harder case than multitudes of clergy — not nearly so
hard as Mr. Fowle's, for example. I daresay he works like a
horse, but all one can say is, this is a troublesome world.
[Proceeding to give good unselfish reasons for staying up] : I
witnessed on Thursday the ceremony of laying the first stone of
a school at Garsington, W. Pusey's curacy. The children all
walked in procession from the rectory with long staffs — the girls
with bunches of lilac, the boys with wallflowers. They formed
a circle round the place, making a sort of large garland with
their staffs : the effect very good.
The chief event of the past week was B.'s visit to Oxford,
which caused quite a sensation and a series of dinner-parties
in honour of him. He was of course in his element, and spent
ten days exactly after his old fashion, in rushing from one
man's rooms to another. He had only one answer to give for
a long time to aU questions, viz., how glad he was to be in
Oxford again. So whatever he was asked, whether it was,
How do you like your curacy ? How do you like your rector ?
he had a deaf ear to everything that was not immediately con
nected with the fact of his actually there and then being locally
and corporeally in Oxford. — Yours, J. B. M.
It had become clear that association with the writers of
Tracts for the Times was a bar to election to a Fellowship in
most Colleges. It was this that had reduced the HaU to the
sohtude described in a previous letter. One more trial was to
be made by James Mozley, that he might continue in Oxford,
so evidently the home suited to his taste and genius. I find a
note from Mr. Newman addressed to him at Keele, where he
was taking a friend's duty : —
" Monday will do for your coming. I have got your baptis
mal register and your CoUege testimonial, and suppose you want
nothing else ; at least Bloxam tells me nothing else is wanted.
I am sorry you have made up your mind to leave Oxford,

108 Letters of the
but am sure that it is better for you to be settled than to be
in doubt. — Ever yours affectionately, J. H. N."
To his Sister. July 25, 1840.
My dear Anne, — I have but just time to tell yon that I am
elected at Magdalen. It was the nearest thing in the world.
However, on the good as well as the bad side of fortune, a
miss is as good as a mile. The examination was considerably
stiff, especially yesterday. The candidate who was set against
me was Cholmeley of the Lincolnshire family, and of course
great interest. A few of the FeUows, I believe, however, went
by the examination simply. My great friends were Bloxam,
Faber, and Farmer. ... I should infallibly have lost the election
if, most fortunately, two or three of my opponents had not been
kept away from voting. Bloxam said that he expected, while
the voting was actually going on, to see the doors open and
these said FeUows to walk in. However, luckUy it happened
as it has. Touching the examination I passed, it is a matter
of little consequence, but I believe it had the effect of enabling
my friends to exert themselves and push me forward. But
only a very few went by the examination itself. ... I know
you wUl aU be pleased enough : and it is one of the greatest
pleasures I feel on the occasion, to be conscious of that. The
thing was so near run that Bloxam had actually written to
Newman this morning, " Break it to Mozley that he wUl lose it
by two votes." It seems to me a complete dream, and I am
writing now as if I was asleep. A letter of Pusey's to the
President had great weight, I beheve. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
A letter from my brother Tom opens the year 1841. His
interests were so one with his brother's at this time, that there
needs no apology for inserting such parts of the letter as con
cerned both equally. T. M. to his Sister.
Cholderton, January 11, 1841,
My dear Anne, — ... It is now settled enough for me to

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 109
tell you that Newman has handed over to me the editorship of
the British Critic. He takes the next number, and I begin with
the July number. Eivington, at least, puts a good face on the
matter, and expresses himself satisfied with me. In the written
instructions I have received from J. H. N., I find one, " make
James write," so let him know I expect something from him
in July. You need' not talk of this at present. ... I have
made great preparations in the way of lists of subjects, etc. It
is of course a very serious responsibility, . . . and as for my
opportunities and disadvantages, I think they are so nearly
balanced that I have no need to complain. Very few people
can write- anything worth reading hi London or large towns
unless they possess the most popular and superficial qualifica
tions. A crowd stuns and overpowers the mind, and great
competition discourages those who have any tendency to
diffidence. . . . Tours affectionately, Thos. Mozley.
Being in London when Oxford sent up an address to the
Queen after the birth of the Princess Eoyal, November 1840,
J. B. M. joined the deputation. AU scenes stimulated thought
in him; and the Duke of Wellington was always an object of
interest. To his Sister.
Tavistock Hotel, February 4, 1841.
I sit down with cold bands just to give yon an account of
our University deputation. We aU met in the great room
(Ahnack's thatwas),and waited about half-an-hour. I recognised
a few faces that I knew, but most seemed to be London
barristers or clergy. None except the deputation itself seemed
to have come from Oxford, a thing easUy to be accounted for
in such cold weather. ... It was funny enough to see one's-self
in cap and gown marching through London. I tried to
fathom the absurdity of it, but couldn't, for before one bad
moved twenty yards, it seemed quite natural; one had got an
Oxonian atmosphere in the midst of London, and was carry
ing about the High Street at one's coat-tail. On reaching the
Palace we proceeded up the great staircase, the Duke not
having appeared yet. He brushed past us, however, as we were

no Letters of the
on the stairs, and put himself at the head. We waited more
than half an hour in the ante-room. At last the folding-doors
opened, and the Queen, or rather the place where she was, for
we could not see ber yet, was visible, with the Duchess of
Sutherland on her right, and Prince Albert on her left. The
Queen was perfectly immovable the whole time the address
was reading : the higher you go in rank, the more people seem
to possess this power of absolute immovableness. The Prince
was, if possible, more so ; he might have been a cork man for
all that one saw of his outside. The Duke read the address in
a regular old man's voice, but very emphatically, though I
think that as much arose from bis want of control over his
voice as from intention. The Queen read ber answer very
well, in a sweet distinct tone. I never heard a better speaking
voice. When the deputation were presented by the Duke for
kissing hands, she looked hard at every one as he came up, but
ber face as immovable as ever. She curved her elbow very
gracefuUy as she held out her hand, which had no glove on it
that I could see. The Queen was dressed in white satin, with
silver facings, etc., a slight gold chain round her neck, and
pearl earrings, the right foot on a stool, showing off her dress
weU. A long row of feathered men in scarlet supported the
throne on each side, which added to the effect, but they were
not seen tiU we backed out. The Queen seemed amused at the
process, and laughed as we retired, saying something to the
Prince. The Duke proclaimed each man's name in a loud voice
as he presented him : Professor Wilson of Exeter, Professor
Walker of Wadham College, Mr. Eden of Oriel, etc. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
In the following letter a subject is incidentally touched on,
which, under the title Jerusalem Bishopric, was momentous in
its bearings, though not effecting any of the objects for which
it was designed. To his Sister. Oxford, February 25, 1841.
Manning was up yesterday to preach. He gave what one

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. in
might really call a powerful sermon; not controversial, but
rather, as Coleridge would say, introversial, which is rather his
line ; that is, entering into and describing states of mind,
struggles within ; his subject being Judas gradually giving way
to his besetting sin. He is certainly very deep, but not always
in good taste, too nice and pointed in his style and his delivery ;
was so very emphatic in every little word and sharp thing that
he came across, that be rather defeated himself and put every
thing on a level. Our Palmer [W. Palmer of Magdalen] is think
ing of answering Hook, but has not got very far in it yet. As
for F. Maurice, it is reaUy no use to take him in hand. He is
Mr. F. Maurice, an individual, and that is all. Hook's is a most
amusing pamphlet, and takes everything for granted with such
simplicity — that the Germans must be orthodox because they
have certain creeds — and Bishop Alexander cannot think of
doing anything uncanonical after Hope's pamphlet. . . .
I heard rather an amusing account of a young lady's visit to
Oxford last term. The young lady, who had come to Pusey
in such deep distress and religions perplexity, it seems was
flaunting about with young gentlemen a good deal of the time,
shopping, going down the river, and amusing herself very
pleasantly — dear, good Pusey all the time being full of pity
and concern for her painful state of doubt and anxiety. A
certain young kid-gloved and scented gentleman of 
College was a particular favourite of the young lady, but she
had several others as well, and used to go about quite comitata
catena, as we say in the classics, surrounded by a body-guard
of handsome young gentlemen. . . . Pusey had ventured to
suggest that she might dress a little more soberly, but had been
answered by her sister, Would he have young ladies go about
like nuns ? . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Still more important is the announcement in the letter that
follows. To his Sister. March 8, 1841.
My dear Anne, — A new Tract has come out this last week,
which is beginning to make a sensation. It is on the Articles,

112 Letters of the
and shows that they bear a highly Catholic meaning; and that
many doctrines, of which the Eomanist are corruptions, may
be held consistently with them. This is no more than what
we know as a matter 6f history, for the Articles were expressly
worded with a view to bring in B. Catholics. But people are
astonished and confused at the idea now, as if it was quite
new. And they have been so accustomed for a long time to
look on the Articles as on a par with the Creed, that they
think, I suppose, that if they subscribe to them they are
bound to bold whatever doctrines are (not positively stated in
them), but merely not condemned. So if they wiU' bear a
Tractarian sense, they are thereby aU of them Tractarians. But
whatever the view may be, there seems to be- something brew
ing, and a man of this CoUege told me just now that he had
been canvassed to join in a public protest against the Tract.
It is of course highly complimentary to the whole set of us to
be so very much surprised that we should think what we hold
to be consistent with the Articles which we have subscribed.
Whether anything wUl reaUy come of the matter I don't know,
A hundred of the Tract sold in Oxford on Saturday. The
Warden of Wadham is alarmed, but as yet we only hear of a
vague impression being made, and have not got any particulars.
. . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Oxford, March 13, 1841.
My dear Anne; — We are rather in a state of excitement
just now, owing to the affair I mentioned in my last letter. You
have probably seen in the Times the letter from the four tutors.
This was followed up by meetings-- for two or three days
running, of the Heads of Houses ¦; the Warden of Wadham being
the chief, instigated they say by Golightly — not that the Tract
itself is not sufficient reason to account for the row, for it cer
tainly is bold in parts. Newman expected it would create some
disturbance, but not quite so much as it has.1 I believe, how
ever, the main cause of alarm is not this or that particular
thing in it, but the whole subject being brought to bear on the
1 See Apologia, 1st edition, page 172, 173.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 113
Articles. Those who have always thought the Articles ultra Pro
testant, and been accustomed to think so ever since they were
born, are naturaUy horrified at the idea that even their strong
hold does not protect them, and that the wolf may come in and
devour them any day. The Heads have accordingly met, and
very furious they were. The first day, I bear on good authority,
some of them could not condescend even to a regular discussion
of the question, so entirely had their vague apprehensions over
powered their faculties. Dr. Eicbards, the Bector of Exeter,
who is a strong man on our side, had a letter from Palmer of
Worcester, in his pocket, in which he (Palmer) declared his fuU
approval of the Tract, intending to lay it before them, in the hope
that Palmer's known character as a theologian and a moderate
man would have some effect upon them ; but they were in such
commotion that the letter would have been lost upon them, and
he did not read it. Palmer sent this letter quite spontaneously,
and it does him great credit, especiaUy as he and Newman were
rather on cool terms some time ago. They (the Heads) had a
meeting again yesterday, but what conclusion was come to I
have not heard. A virulent article has appeared in the Oxford
Chronicle to-day, calling for the extirpation of the party from
the University. The feehng of the residents, however, as a
body, is either so strong in favour of the view, or, where this is
not the case, so tied by personal connections and intimacies
with others who hold them, that I do not think anything could
be done here in the way of a public act of condemnation. The
only possible chance we can think of is then bringing up clergy
from the country on the No-Popery cry. This could not be
done if any time were allowed people to reflect. But they get
up a cry for the moment, and the excitement would last perhaps
sufficiently long to bring up men by the railways and send them
back again. I do not think that this wUl be done, but it is the
only chance one can think of. Any proposal of the kind I
mention would fall most exceedingly flat upon the residents.
Some person took the trouble to write a note to The Standard
to blazon the fact of that little disturbance about Morris's ser
mon in St. Mary's a year and a half ago. The name is not
mentioned, but it is ill-natured to recall a thing so long past,
H

114 Letters of the
especially as nothing official was done on the occasion. The
Vice-Chancellor only gave M. advice privately, so the note is
a misstatement of facts altogether. In our own common room
the other day, when the subject was introduced, men seemed
divided into two parts, those who felt with the Tract, and those
who were entirely indifferent about it.
Keble saw it before it came out, and has since written to the
Vice-Chancellor to claim a share in the responsibility of it.
One hopes the thing will blow over after a little fuss. The
Times taking the part it does is a strong fact; and attacks
from Eadical papers will only serve to mix us up with the
Conservatives, and give us at least the toleration or the indif
ference of that party, instead of incurring their disgust too. —
Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
Perhaps in the line of action that followed the publication of
Tract Ninety, we may notice the first symptom of a difference
in view between James Mozley and Mr. Newman. Though he
might be classed among the young men, — he was now twenty-
seven, — who took "the validity of their interpretation of the
Articles from Mr. Newman on faith," 1 and in his notices of
the Tract in his home correspondence he seems to do so, his
was not a mind or a disposition to repose such faith on any one
imphcitly. His defence of the' line of No. XC. was bona fide.
The Tract permanently influenced him, yet his criticism of Mr.
Newman's mode of receiving the attack upon himself, as its
author, shows that he stood external to the state of mind which
prompted that mode. " Confidence in me was lost," we read in
the Apologia, " but I had already lost full confidence in myself."2
1 Apologia, p. 337.
2 " Thoughts had passed over me a year and a half before, which for the
time had profoundly troubled me — they had gone. I had not less confidence
in the power and the prospects of the Apostolical movement than before, not
less confidence than before in the grievousness of what I called the dominant
errors of Rome ; but how was I any more to have absolute confidence in
myself ? how was I to have confidence inmy present confidence ? how was
I to be sure that I should always think as I thought now ? I felt that by
this event a kind Providence had saved me from an impossible position in
the future." — Apologia, p. 173.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 115
Mr. Newman was not one to infuse doubt by design, and as
James Mozley had never any leaning towards Eome, or for a
moment was shaken in his aUegiance to the Church of his bap
tism, nothing passed to excite misgiving. He was therefore
puzzled, and evidently disappointed at the line taken.
To his Sister. Oxford, March 17, 1841.
. . . The storm seems to have blown over, and in a much
shorter time than one thought of. The Heads of Houses issued
a manifesto yesterday, which you will see in the papers. This
expression of opinion is not of course invested with any autho
rity. Neither the Heads of Houses, nor even Convocation itself,
have the power of interpreting the Articles in a way to bind
others, and there is nothing which can prevent tutors from lectur
ing in what way they please in divinity, except a positive injunc
tion from the ecclesiastical authorities. J. H. N. has written a
very polite answer to the Vice-Chancellor. But whether they
wUl be provoked to think it humbug and concealed triumph, or
be softened by it, I hardly know. Though admiring the letter, I
confess, for my own part, I think a general confession of humi
lity was irrelevant to the present occasion, the question being
simply on a point of theological interpretation. I have always
had a prejudice against general confessions, perhaps you may not
have.1— Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
March 31 he writes to his sister : —
" J. H. N. is coming out with a letter to the Bishop, which is
to be a final settler. The Bishop has behaved extremely
weU, and had some interviews with Pusey. . . ."
1 A home letter of the same date (March 17) gives first impressions on
reading the letter to the V.-C. in the newspapers. A sister writes : "I was
entirely pleased with the printed letter to the V.-C. It struck me, on first
reading it, to be exactly right, showing both confidence in bis cause, and
mistrust of himself as liable to error. There is a Catholic spirit of humility
in it that one finds in some books, and longs to see practised. But I was
sorry that it did not quite strike all others in the same light, especially H.,
who, though no judge of the question, is a good one of language ; and he
thought it deficient in spirit. He would have liked something more like a
retort."

116 Letters of the
J. B. M. to T. M. Oxford, April 5, 1841.
My dear Tom, — I really hardly know where to begin telling
you news. The last and most important is a letter from the
Bishop to J. H. N., in answer to published letter, thanking him
most warmly, praising the spirit in which it is written, and says
he will not have cause to repent of having written it, which is
a quiet way of promising a continuance of his support to the
views ; at least this seems to be the real drift of his words. It
is obvious that he would not have done anything if left to him
self, and that he has been poked up by the Bishop of London,
or Archbishop of Canterbury, to doing what he has. It is
generaUy thought that the Heads of Houses have gone quite out
of their sphere in deciding on the theology of a work ; they
are merely a committee for practical business ; besides that,
some of them are laymen. They rather feel this themselves,
and say now that they condemn the logic of the Tract, not its
theology. Wilson, of St. John's, has addressed a letter to
Churton of Brasenose, against the Tract, and defending the
view of the four tutors. It is excessively badly written in
point of style ; one has to read over a sentence a dozen times
to see what he means, and as few people have the patience to do
this, the pamphlet is not hkely to be very effective. He cites
two or three passages from the HomUies rather strong on his
side of the question, or apparently so, and that is the most for
midable thing he does. Ward, of BaUiol, is coming out with an
answer to him, part of which I have seen, and think it very
conclusive. Hook is addressing a pamphlet to the Bishop of
Eipon on the subject of the Tract. Manning was up the other
day, preaching before the University. It was a good sermon,
but not weU delivered, and rather inclining to pedantry in the
style ; too polished and antithetical in the choice of words. He
looked quite proper and archdiaconal, with the strait-cut coat
and the gentlest shovel. He left on the Monday, to go to
S. Wilberforce, at Winchester. Our President protested very
strongly against the resolution of the Heads of Houses, of
course, in writing ; he never goes near them himself. I should

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 117
think he has had some influence over the Bishop, as the Bishop
called on him lately on the subject. . . Touching your call
for an article in the B. C. : since you wish me to write, I
will write something or other, though the work I have been
about for a long time is so different from reviewing, that I shall
feel but awkward at anything in that way. I should rather
prefer not taking a theological or even an ecclesiastical
one. Your roof article wiU quite establish your architectural
name here. Bloxam let out the secret of J. H. N.'s bust to
him the other day,1 quite unintentionally. It is finished now,
so it is no matter whether he knows it or not. I rather
think of going for a few days to town the middle of next week,
and shaU take an opportunity of seeing it. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
April 20, 1841.
My dear Anne, — I heard from Mr. Wayland the other day,
who gave an extract from a letter from Dr. Wayland [his
American cousin, President of Brown University, who had been
lionised in Oxford by J. B. M.], describing us a most agreeable,
intelligent, gentlemanly set of men ; but regretting that the
advantages of the place were so confined to the aristocracy.
He is, of course, perfectly mistaken here, and judges from what
he sees on a first view. He meets with gentlemen and persons
of superior manners, and forgets that it is the place which in
many instances has made them such. For my own part, I
think Oxford is the most levelling, democratical place in the
kingdom. There are fewer distinctions, fewer grades here than
anywhere. It is of less consequence to a man whether he is a
man of rank here than in any other place in the kingdom. At
Huh and Manchester, I believe, they are very aristocratic.
Have you got Palmer's pamphlet — it is rather tart, not to
say harsh and abusive, but, at the same time, powerful in the
extracts from Eoman Catholic writers, which it brings against
Wiseman. This was a part of the subject which the latter
rather shirked, and, of course, he was open to a floor, as every
1 A bust by Westmacott, now in the possession of his nephew, Henry
William Mozley.

1 1 8 Letters of the
one saw. The only question was, who had really enough to floor
him. Palmer has, therefore he floors him. Of course, passages
without end can be produced from Eoman Cathohc writers tend
ing to exalt the Virgin, only they say " You do not understand
these ; they are a different language to us from what they are
to you, who are not in our system — yon are not proper judges."
This seems to be Wiseman's argument. We say words must
have a meaning, and these words must mean so and so, and
there the controversy ends. I do not see how it can go further.
I thought Dr. Wiseman's an able pamphlet, and required an
answer, but should have been better pleased with a more
moderate one. It is not necessary to insult a man on the title-
page with a soi-disant — " Who calls himself Bishop of Melipo-
tamus." You may tell Jemima, Marshall has promised to send
me a copy of the tune [for the Veni Creator] she means,
and she shaU have it for H. as soon as I get it. At the same
time, I rather protest against using the tune for an ordinary
Psalm. I rather like the idea of a tune peculiar to a certain
time and place, as this I think is ; something hke the Miserere
in the Pope's chapel. Everything of the sort, however, is pub
lished now-a-days, and if one does not, another does. So H. is
perhaps right in getting all the good tunes she can. — Yours,
J. B. M.
J. B. M. to T. M. Oxford, May 19.
The controversy is not yet over, as one thought. On the
contrary, a very strong pamphlet is coming out by Ward, which
I fully expect will create a row, though it is so impossible to
teU beforehand what will be taken up, and what wih not, that
I wiU not pretend to prophesy on the subject. It depends so
much on the peculiar state of the public mind at the time,
what will inflame it, and what wiU not ; and the public pulse
is a very difficult one to feel. He says tremendously strong
things against the Eeformation and the English Church, so far
as it has been influenced by it ; but there is nothing which
authorities can lay hold upon, as he does not meddle with
formularies. It is, in short, a kind of strong interpretation of

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 119
No. XC; just as Pusey's, which is also coming out at the same
time, is a mollifying one, proving that No. XC. says nothing
but what our divines have said before. Wiseman's answer is
also just out, and, I confess, seems to me very powerful. He
has greatly the advantage of Palmer in style and temper —
though quite as cutting, yet more quietly so ; and as Palmer's
tone was certainly enough to provoke an opponent, one must
let a man have his revenge ; at least it is virep avOpcoirov not to
give tit-for-tat. Wood, he who was Hook's curate, was up the
other day, and described Hook as being bullied beyond any
thing by the Evangelicals at Leeds, so much so as quite to lose
spirit. He had actuaUy made up his mind to resign the living,
but the Archbishop of York positively refused to let him. Keble
was up yesterday giving his poetry lecture. We are beginning
to talk of the next Professor now, and J. WiUiams is our man.
Claughton, they say, will not stand against him. Kynaston,
Master of St. Paul's, is the only antagonist as yet.
You are probably right as to Carlyle being too late for review
now. I confess I proposed the book more for my own conveni
ence than for that of the British Critic, having read it (the French
Revolution) through, which is a compliment one comparatively
seldom pays to a book.1 However, I find now that, what with
having promised to help WUson (one of our Fellows) in editing
the third volume of Bishop Andrewes (i.e. to look over proofs),
and what with having commenced taking French lessons, I
have enough to do for the present. So I wUl defer ray valuable
services to the B. C. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
His postscript, it must be remembered, is written before
the days of photography.
" P.S. — They have got a most frightful portrait of Pusey out,
which is stuck up in all the shop-windows. He looks wretched
1 T. M. had written, May 5 : — " About a year ago I proposed to J. H. N.
to review Carlyle, and, for some reason or other, he very expressly declined,
saying he would tell me why. I determined to ask his reasons, and I think
I have, and that he assigned the uncertainty there was about the man. I
suppose he is an unbeliever, and is likely to say things a great deal worse
than he has yet said. Carlyle's Revolution, and other works, were reviewed
in the Dublin, October 1838, with apologies for reviewing the first work
so long after its publication."

1 2 o Letters of the
enough propria persona, but this portrait quite makes one
wretched to look at it — it presents such a picture of intense
misery, age, and infirmity. I will send it to Harriett some
day for her especial edification.1 There is one of SeweU, too,
much more fair ; in fact, really a good likeness, and giving
exactly his benignity and his pug nose to a T. Eogers has
been heard from, from Venice. He is quite absorbed with the
beauties of the place.

An allusion to an article in the July number of the Brit;
Critic is a reason for giving the following letter from T. M. to
J. B. M. After some suggestions for the forthcoming number,
he writes : — Cholderton, July 1, 1841.
Dear James, — . . . Things have been driven very late this
time, owing to my many occupations during the quarter, to
H. W.'s procrastination, and to your disappointment [due to a
misunderstood suggestion]. For my own part I had made up my
mind not to write anything myself this first time, if I could get
contributors, but I perceive that if 1 am to have the Beview in
time I must prepare to do much myself. Faussett is a mere
fill-up in this number, for that kind of stuff won't do for the
staple of the number. If people tell me I have done that article
too hastUy and too sharply, I shall answer, Why did not they
write for me instead of obliging me to write on the spur of the
moment ? . . . You talked of coming here. We are quite ready any
time, and shall be all the summer — at least so we hope. We
have now the additional attraction of the church building,
which is now about 6 feet above ground. I shall require the
1 Mrs. T. M.'s letters at this time show that the strain was telling upon
the physique of all deeply engaged in deed or in thought iu the controversies
of the time. "James," she writes, " says J. H. N. was considered wonder
fully improved by his visit to Cholderton . I thought he did look so miserably
thin when he came. It is quite shocking to see people look so. I do quite
agree with a man who wrote to him the other day, and said the sight of such
people ' made one sick.' I am sure it does — sick at heart." And again, writing
after the consecration of Ampfield Church, April 1841 : "J. H. N. is
shockingly thin, and, set down on paper, would look as old every bit as that
awful representation of him. Mr. Keble does get so old ! Mr. Williams
[Isaac] looked sadly ill " — continuing her list.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 121
breathing-time afforded me by making a two years' job of it, as
by the 20th of August, when I stop operations, I shall be on the
verge of bankruptcy. At present I don't see how I am to
resume next spring, only somehow it looks too natural and self-
growing a thing ever to stop. I can as little beheve that the
trees about me will not put forth their leaves next spring. —
Yours affectionately, Thos. Mozley.
The Faussett article here mentioned is a review of the
Margaret Professor's Lecture on the Thirty-nine Articles, "chiefly
with reference to the views of No. XC. of the Tracts for the
Times" delivered before the University, in the Divinity School,
Thursday, June 3, 1841.
J. B. M. to T. M.
July 13, 1841.
My dear Tom, — Your squib, or whatever one is to caU it,
on the Margaret Professor has created a considerable sensation
here. As you would, suppose, I have not heard what is said about
it among the Heads and authorities, though one may easily
imagine. It is amusing to see the practical inference which
the Professor himself drew from it. He went about forthwith
canvassing for votes for his re-election, that happening to be
just now. He got a good party together, some coming up a
little distance from the country to be present. Of course they
found all quiet when they got there. I certainly think it one
of your most successful and amusing articles ; in fact, I don't
know any that I would place before it, though at the same time
it is certainly a strong dose, especially for the Professor. I
think we cannot turn the poor man out of house and home
now that we have laughed at him so unmercifully, otherwise
we shall be punishing twice for the same offence, which is
against equity . . . The larking men here are wonderfully taken
with the Apologue, and propose that you should edit it with
illustrations by Cruikshank.
Writing home he says : — " I have heard only of two persons
expressing themselves strongly about the article. One is Dr.

122 L e Iters of the
Danbeny. He took it for Newman's, and said, ' It was extra
ordinary how a person could appear so amiable at one time and
so much the reverse at others.' " To bis brother, T. M., be writes
a few days later: — "I attended the Hebdomadal Board this
morning, where there were two or three words let drop about
your article on Faussett, which showed people to be consider
ably sore. Eather a vulgar letter, I am sorry to say, has
appeared this week in the Herald, on our side, in which the
writer lugs in your Apologue."1 To his Sister. Oxford, September 18, 1841.
Dear Anne, — . . . Bloxam is here, also C. Marriott and
Copeland. Pusey is also back from Ireland. I accompanied
him to his house from the Cathedral this morning, and had a
long talk. He does not like the priests, from what he saw and
heard of them. The Dubhn ones were courteous and civil, but
with nothing remarkable about them mentaUy. He said he
only saw one who interested him at aU. . . . Pusey did not go
about much, but stayed at Kingstown. He saw Dr. Murray, who
admitted — the only one who did — some faults in their religious
books ; all the rest stuck out for their system, both in doctrine
and practice, to the lowest detail. He was interested, however,
with some convents into which he went. We are a small party
in College just now, and Oxford looks empty enough. Newman
is at Littlemore teaching the boys to sing, but comes in to
morrow. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister Maria.
Oxford, October 30, 1841.
We have had a visit from Selwyn, the new Bishop of New
Zealand. He came only for a couple of days, to see the place
before his departure. We all assembled — a large party of us—
at Merton, to meet him at breakfast on Thursday at Hope's,
who was his entertainer. Hope and Eogers are school-fellows of
1 For further comment on the article and its apologue, " Growler and
Fido," the reader is referred to the Author's Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 245.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 123
his, being nearly contemporaries at Eton ; so you may suppose
how young he is for a bishop. He is only, I believe, thirty-two ;
but not the worse for that — they want young men and minds in
such places. He has, however, plenty of sense and judgment
marked upon his face. It is quite the situation he likes, and
has always fancied, and was, in fact, so disappointed at his
brother's refusing the Bishopric, as he had set his heart upon
accompanying him, that it occurred to the Bishop of London
that he himself was the man. So the place was immediately
offered and accepted. A large breakfast is just the place, of aU
others, where one does not see anything of a man. I did just
see him, and that was aU, but never heard him speak. He and
Hope were talking together, as a matter of course, the whole
time. In fact, to talk to twenty people at once is impossible,
unless a man gets on the table and makes a speech. His wife
was with him — a spirited-looking person, quite a young lady.
She looked as if she would follow her husband through most
things. . . . Mr. Edward Coleridge was with him ; one of the
masters at Eton, who was master when he was a boy; and
Coleridge is comparatively a young man. Mr. Badeley, a bar
rister from town, was here also. He is a man who has come
down to Oxford several times lately, a friend of Ward's and
that set.
Keble has delivered his last lecture, which he wound up with
a strong protest in favour of the connection of religion and
poetry. People have begun some time to think of the next
Professor, and Garbett's friends have established a committee in
London, whhe Williams' have done nothing. From what I
hear, even W.'s friends say his chance is not very good, but
still sufficiently so to justify trying. There are several Colleges
Avhich to a man vote for Garbett — Brasenose, New College, and
St. John's. We [at Magdalen] shall divide about equally, but
perhaps rather for Williams than against. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister.
November 9, 1841.
Dear Anne, — . . . The new ordination of the Bishop of

124 L etters of the

Jerusalem is an event that is making a sensation. Our Palmer,
who has been in Eussia, and knows the state of feeling with
respect to the Lutherans in the Greek Church, takes a very
strong view of the matter, and wrote a letter to the Archbishop,
which, however, was not put into his hands till after the
ceremony — not that it would have made the least difference
if it had. The Archbishop and Bishop of London rule every
thing, and do whatever they please — would not hear anything
nor even communicate with the other Bishops on the subject.
The Bishop of Oxford said be had no other information about the
matter than the newspapers gave. Palmer is writing a protest
entitled, " The Protest of William Palmer, Deacon, addressed
to all good Catholics." It will be out in a few days after he has
sent proofs to the Archbishop and Bishop, to correct misstate
ments if there should be any. It is very strong and very ably
done ; and, knowing the Greek Church, he can of course speak
with confidence. Newman is about another, and I daresay there
wiU be a more general one in course of time. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
The election of Poetry Professor to succeed Keble fell at a
critical time. No one could for a moment doubt — it may be
said that no one did doubt — that Isaac Williams was the obvious
candidate, the fittest man for the office ; but party spirit was
roused ; and rumours were afloat, which, with the majority of
electors, threw such a consideration entirely into the shade.
Some letters are given here to show the state of public feeliug
at Oxford and elsewhere. Amongst the alarmists, T. M.'s old
friend, Mr. Golightly, stood prominently forward, and in the
excitement of the moment certainly forgot himself in one flagrant
instance, though time, that wondrous healer, brought about
more than a reconciliation — a forgetfulness apparently on both
sides of the old wrong.
The following letters allude to a general denunciation of the
party in The Standard, in letters to Canon Faber, addressed
to that paper : —

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 125
J. B. M. to A. M.
December, 1841.
Dear Anne, — I have just time to write half a line.
Golightly's letter has of course made a great stir. It seems
to be agreed that though the letter, as a whole, is a great
floor on his part (as producing no sort of evidence, even in the
strongest cases, for quantities of people go to Oscot, and in
Tom's case, not even pretending to produce evidence, but only
saying "I think I have ground for believing"), yet that one or
two awkward facts are let out — that is, that J. H. N. and
Pusey differ as to Eomanism, and that one was more disposed
to think more favourably of Eome and more leniently of its
faults than the other. This is, of course, a fact which we all
know here, and which does not at aU prevent the two acting
in concert together; but this fact being put forward in that
summary way may tend to create an alarm, and destroy that
confidence in our party which unity alone can give. But this
depends on how the pubhc see it and follow it up. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
T. M.'s letter, to James on the subject is short and charac
teristic : —
T M. to J. B. M.
Cholderton, December 3, 1841.
. . . Golightly's letter is beautiful. I don't know which most
to admire — the negative or the positive part of it. I am chiefly
amused at the way G. has tantalised poor Faber's (Canon of
Durham) curiosity — ten new names as yet not blown upon — a
regular Jesuit's College was the least I expected, when G. flings
at him the old story of British Critic and the opinions of highly
respectable friends, dignitaries in the Church, and Protestant
bishops. As I lay in bed this morning, I thought over 30 pages
of jokes at G's expense, but I suppose it is best to hold one's
tongue. — Yours affectionately, Thos. Mozley.
The question of the Poetry Professor to succeed Keble never
came to the poll, but was settled by a comparison of votes.

126 Letters of the
Isaac Williams' party were so prepared for defeat that J. B. M.
gives the history in his home letter in the spirit of making the
best of it. To his Sister. Oxford, January 23, 1842.
People seem, on the whole, more satisfied than I expected
with the conclusion the thing has come to, and think that with
all the difficulties Williams' committee here and in London had
to encounter they have done pretty well. The minority of 623
was a great blow to the opposite side, who had been counting
on a majority of 3 to 1. . . . It seems to be generally thought
that the Heads are strongly disposed to peace, and afraid to run
any risk. The Master of Balliol gives out that he considers
Garbett the most improper man in the University for the office.
The Dean of Ch. Ch. is neutral, the Warden of AU Souls very
strong for Williams, to which, if we add Eichards of Exeter
and the President of Trinity, we have a good infusion at any
rate of harmless materials in the Hebdomadal Board. The
comparison of votes was a kind of half measure for which we
are indebted to the President of Trinity — I mean as opposed to
a mere withdrawal sub silentio. The Bishop of Oxford (Bagot)
was persuaded to write several strong letters, urging a with
drawal, and among the rest a formal one to the London com
mittee. The latter, who come out of the scrape better than I
expected, were decidedly against it, but at the same time
disliked the idea of opposing Episcopal influence, and this was
almost the view of the Fellows of Trinity. Besides that, they
were afraid that the known wishes of the Bishop of Oxford
might actuaUy prevent many voters coming up. In fact, they
would have conceded the point most reluctantly had not the
President been obstinate, and refused his consent to the
acknowledgment of Episcopal interference; about which, I
conjecture, he has some strong antiquarian theory as to the
privileges of the University in that respect. So, as a middle
course, something short of obeying the Bishop of Oxford, and
also letting the world know as well as they could without a
poll their real number, they acquiesced in a comparison of votes.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 127
I see The Standard says that Dr. GUbert produced vouchers for
his 921 votes, whereas W.'s 623 were certain and probable ones
 all that they had any chance at all of. That is simply a lie,
and Haddan's scrupulous honesty is the sole cause of the
report being spread. . . . The Principal of Brasenose, rather
disgusted I suppose at such an imposing minority, commenced
with saying something to the effect that if they (Garbett's side)
were at liberty to reckon up aU their chances they might sweU
out their list indefinitely. But he stuck short in the middle of
his speech, and on Haddan's requesting to know whether the 921
was the gross number to be opposed to the 623 or a picked list
to be opposed to the 500, Grove, a FeUow of Brasenose, admitted
at once that it was composed in exactly the same way that the
623 was. . . . The Principal of Brasenose, being a sharp man in
such cases, . . . instantly closed with the 921 to 623, and so the
affair ended. ... I omitted to say that the London committee
had made a bargain with the Bishop of Oxford, and made him
write a letter expressly stating that his sole ground was the
peace of the Church, and even sent back bis first letter to be
corrected, but this would have been a poor compensation for a
withdrawal sub silentio, and we are more indebted to the Presi
dent of Trinity, as far as I have been able to bear, than to
either of our committees on this matter. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister. Oxford, January 27, 1842.
There is no more news as to the Poetry Professorship
business. But there is a report that Gilbert and the Bishop
of Oxford are to exchange Bishoprics, in order that we may
have a resident Bishop to keep us in order. This is nothing
more, however, than a report. In so far as it would look like a
job to enable Gilbert to keep his Principalship, it does not
seem a likely scheme for Sir E. Peel, though, as a check upon
the movement here, it might be put in a popular point of view to
the public. Peel told Lord Ashley the oth er day that he need not
be afraid of the Oxford party, for he should take care they got
into no preferment while he was in office. — Yours, J. B. M.

128 Letters of the
In March of this year J. B. M. was one of a deputation to
the Queen, which after the ceremony dined at Apsley House.
To his Sister.
Morley's Hotel, March 19, 1842.
. . . The company besides the deputation, were the two
Archbishops, Lord Eedesdale, the two members of the Uni
versity, Sir H. Halford, Lord Devon, Sir C. WethereU, etc. The
table was very wide, and round at the ends, each accommodating
four or five. The Duke sat in the middle, with the Archbishops
on each side. It was curious to watch the progress of con
versation between them, though one was such a long way off
that one could only see. The Archbishop of York was the
favourite of the two, but as his line seemed to be only telling
anecdotes, when he had finished one, be had nothing more to
say, and a dead pause of some five minutes would ensue. The
Duke seemed either not to have the power, or never to give
himself the trouble of taking up the thread of any discourse,
and seemed wholly dependent on what people chose to say to
him. His whole interest is taken up in Parliament, and as
soon as Lord Eedesdale came, he immediately began to ask about
what was going on. He was dressed in plain full dress, only
short breeches, with the garter and the blue scarf round his
shoulders under the coat. An ordinary blue dress-coat with
brass embossed buttons, and a sUk shawl waistcoat completed
his attire. He seemed to enjoy himself most upon the ottoman
after leaving the dining-room, with Sir H. Halford prosing
things into his ear, which had the effect of a gentle stimulus,
and one heard every now and then, Ah, Yes, Very weU, and so
on. Nothing can exceed the simplicity of bis manner, which
is of that kind that must have been acquired by never having
cared about pleasing people, and being acceptable or popular.
He treats complete strangers with the most utter and complete
strangeness, but his manner to Dr. Bliss, who had seen some
thing of him, showed that he acquired a liking for people by
knowing them, and that his courtesy advanced in proportion to
his acquaintance with the man, which is better than the

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 129
inverse ratio, as the more fashionable system is apt to be. . . .
Yours, J. B. M.
After a visit to his brother Arthur, then one of the Masters
of King Edward's School, Birmingham, he writes : —
To his Sister. Oxford, April 12, 1842.
Arthur gave a dinner party on Saturday, where were Mr.
Oldham, and most of the masters of the school. They were
a pleasant set of men, very like College society, and keeping
up that style. It is a pity they have not rooms within the
walls of the school, instead of being dispersed through the
town ; it would make them quite a Collegiate body.
On Sunday he attended service at St. Thomas's (Bishop
Eyder's) Church, Birmingham, and heard a sermon from Mr.
Collinson, of Trinity College, Dublin.
What do you think of this notice being given out from the
reading-desk between prayers and sermon ?
" The Eev. Martin Wilson Foy, curate of St. Martin's, will
re-dehver, by special request, his introductory lecture, proving
the coincidence between Puseyism and Boman Catholicism, in
St. James's Church, Ashsted, on Tuesday next."
Now, one can stand a good deal in this way, because one has
had a good deal of practice, but this was rather too bad. So after
service I went up to the clerk, as he was proceeding to the
vestry (not wishing to come in contact with the clergymen
themselves), and asked for a copy of the notice. He said there
was no written notice, but he would mention it to them — so at
last I found myself ushered into the vestry, where I made
known my request, and wrote out at their dictation the notice
which had been given. When we came to that part of it, Mr.
Collinson said, ' Tractarianism,' etc., but the other, Mr. Wheeler,
admitted that he said ' Puseyism.' This constituted the whole
of the scene. I made my bow and retired, I shall show the
notice to Pusey to-morrow when be comes back, and suggest
1

1 30 Letters of the
bis writing to the Bishop of Worcester about it.1 The Bishop
can scarcely avoid taking notice of such a flagrant indecency
when put before him. Mr. Lee was enormously disgusted with
the notice in St. Martin's the Sunday before, where the word
was " Tractarianism," but the use of such a mere piece of slang
as " Puseyism," from the reading-desk, happily brings the matter
to a head. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Oxford, May 22, 1842.
My dear Anne, — You have probably heard before now from
Cholderton aU about their visit here. . . . Mr. Bellasis, from
London, came for a day, on purpose to see Tom, and he and
Harriett had some pleasant talk. He describes the body of
lawyers in town as changing rapidly ; and really holds out a
prospect of the old union between the legal and ecclesiastical
bodies being revived. ... As a dernier resource, the Exeter Hall
gentlemen are going to send down some of their set, with Mr.
M'Gbee at their head, to vituperate in the Town-haU here, and
seem to suppose that they will really produce some effect upon
the state of opinion here. Tom had a long talk with Pusey,
chiefly about the British Critic, the latter recommending a few-
modifications of expression which had occurred there. The inter
view seemed to have been attended with some slight uneasiness
to Tom, as I could tell from his manner afterwards, he not being
yet used to take the passive side in criticism. Entre nous, I
don't think it will do him any harm, and, to confess the truth,
I had rather a malicious pleasure in seeing it.
The Bishop (Bagot) gives his long-delayed charge in St.
Mary's to-morrow, which will be heard with considerable interest.
He has been dreading it for the last couple of years, and ought
to have delivered it long ago. They say he has a promise of
the next translation, I suppose to York, and that he thinks he
has had enough of care and responsibihty in these questions
lying upon his shoulders, and that he can claim fairly a httle
rest. It will be a perilous thing his going away — that is, for us.
1 In the Illustrated News of this date there occurs a notice that the
Bishop of Worcester had forbidden the use of the word " Puseyism " in
church.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 131
Archdeacon [S.] Wilberforce preached, they say, a very politic
sermon before the Bishop the other day, and worthy a can
didate for the episcopal honours. He attended the conference
at Winchester between Mr. Wordsworth and Mr. Nicholson (on
the subject of the former's sermon on renewing discipline), and
seemed greatly perplexed what side to take, though he inclined
of course towards the Low Church. This see-saw state must
be a most difficult and agitating one to keep up, and he wiU
require a bishopric for the benefit of his health before long, if
for no other reason. The last joke from London is, that the
two rival Tablets (there are two now — one Lord Shrewsbury
and Wiseman's, the other the old O'Connellite one) station men
with bludgeons at the Post-Office hole, to prevent each other
sending off their respective papers. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
In the collection from which these letters are taken, there is
no mention of the action of Archdeacon Samuel WUberf orce, in
the recent election for the Poetry Professorship, of which the
detaUs are given in his Life ; but of course the tone towards
him in the preceding letter is due to the part he took on that
occasion. The following letter relates to the attempt by the
Heads of Houses, who had appointed Dr. Hampden chairman
of the new Theological Board, to free him from the censure
passed in 1836, on his being appointed Eegius Professor. His
sister was then on a visit at Stow-Langtoft. Oxford, May 31.
The Convocation is on Tuesday, June 7, so Mr. Eickards
should leave on the Monday morning. You see I take for granted
he is coming. Everybody who wishes any remnant of orthodoxy
to remain amongst us should come, and settle the matter once for
all The original statute against Hampden was a miserable thing,
in this point of view, leaving it open to be removed whenever
an Hebdomadal Board chose to liberalise. The censure ought
to have been passed on the unsound propositions, not on the
man, and then they could not have been retracted. We are

132 Letters of the
going on very satisfactorUy. To-day this circular is sent down
to aU the non-resident members of Convocation of every CoUege.
You cannot imagine the state of bustle and activity we have
been in. The last week has been a complete dream — of inter
minable plannings, devisings, machinatings, talkings, walkings,
writings, printings, letters for the post, wafers, sealing-wax,
etc. However, the work is pretty near over now. In fact,
when the circulars are fairly launched, there is nothing more
to do. The new statute is expected to be thrown out by a
large majority. Nobody sticks up a moment for the Heads
of Houses. Eespecting the point of inconsistency, teU Mr.
Eickards that the statute of 1836 was generaUy considered only
in the light of a stigma 1 — not as depriving him of those par
ticular functions. That a man holding his opinions should have
been allowed to go on lecturing and virtually exercising every
position of his office, was indeed, and is, a most gross incon
sistency. The statute just passed is only a slight addition to
the great and acknowledged and systematic inconsistency. I
voted myself against the measure upon that very ground — i.e.
against Hampden ; but, at the same time, to have raised a hue-
and-cry would have been so apparently harsh and personal,
that I am not surprised at the sUence of men. You could not
have raised a sufficient opposition without combining and
making a noise ; and though httle additions to any wrong state
of things are not to be despised, stiU, compared with the huge
and monstrous inconsistency of heretical Professors aUowed to
lecture in an orthodox University, it was not much, and it
would, in my opinion, have been straining at a gnat to have
raised a formal war upon it. — Yours affectionately, J.B.M.
1 See article, " New Defenders of the Faith," in the British Critic, Oct.
1842 : — " Against the plain state of the case then — that Dr. Hampden did
not retract ; that Dr. Hampden said he did not retract ; that they said Dr.
Hampden ought to retract — what have they to set off as a counterbalance?
We lack some very powerful ground, if this be possible, when the other
side has swallowed up all. What is it ? They 'felt Dr. Hampden was,
theologically, not the same man in 1842 that he was in 1836.' " " As the
Regius Professor and Head of St. Mary Hall mixed more and more ia
society with his fellow Heads, the feeling of class would prevail, and the
dignitary supersede and cover the latitudinarian," etc. Pages 431-435.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 133
In reply to his sister's notice of his article in the British
Critic, on " The Development of the Church in the Seventeenth
Century," he writes : — Oxford, July 9, 1842.
I am sorry any part of my article seems hard upon our
old divines. If it is so, it is owing entirely to my own bung
ling ; I meant to be quite otherwise, as you yourself know my
sentiments to be. I certainly think they, in common with their
E. C. opponents, were much harsher in their language than
they needed to be. It was an age of controversy, and every
body used strong terms. The E. Catholics were every bit as
bad, if not worse. I certainly would wish to separate, for this
reason, their real spirit from their controversial phraseology.
Nor does this appear a refined distinction to draw, but one
which one is making constantly in judging of historical charac
ters or parties. This is positively the only exception I make
against them ; whUe, on the other hand, I claim for them every
noble and catholic feeling, and consider them the great defenders
of our Church, to whom we owe everything. I confess, bow-
ever, I should not rank the Eeformers among these standard
divines, who seem indeed to have been a decided reaction upon
them, i.e. very much more High Church. Compare Land and
Jewel. No time for more theology. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
Best remembrances to Mr. and Mrs. Eickards.
J. B. M. to T. M.
Oxford, November 11, 1842.
My dear Tom, — . . . Has Oakeley sent you the circular about
the Welsh Bishoprics ? They say there is a chance of keeping
them if something is done. ... I have hardly been able to show
any civility to young  . There is something very pleasing
about him, though he has not fallen into the Oxford mould.
Perhaps none the worse for that ; but Eton and Harrow, etc.,
send such mature and formed gentlemen now-a-days up to the
University (absurdly so, I think), that one notices deficiency of

1 34 Letters of the
manner and rusticity, however slight. Hampden and Macmullen
are keeping up the war, M. refusing to defend the heretical
propositions which H. sent him for his B.D. exercises, and
claiming the right to choose his own, which he has by statute,
and H. resisting. The Vice-Chancellor has been applied to, and
documents examined. Vaughan Thomas assists M., who is
certain to gain his point.
Do you know the Provost has refused Arthur testimonials,
except on the condition of rejecting1 No. XC. I saw the
letter (a copy of which A. sent me). . . . He talks about we
and us, as if he were the College. J. H. N. suggested a short
answer, that Arthur accepted the Articles in the sense of Con
vocation of 1562; of course it wUl come to nothing, and
Arthur must wait another year, when he will be out of the
Provost's power. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — I enclose the Provost's letter.
Provost's Letter to Arthur.
My dear Sir, — Before we can send you the testimonial you
desire, as we have seen nothing of yon for a long time, I must
ask whether you have adopted any new opinions or new methods
of interpreting the Thirty-nine Articles. Whether you would
interpret those, for instance, which relate to. the controversy
between the Churches of England and Eome, not according to
the intentions of those who framed them, but according to some
supposed view of the Catholic Church, and so, perhaps, very
nearly in accordance with the principles of Eome herself— con
sidering, for example, Ecumenical CouncUs infallible, and not
objecting to the Mass, or believing in the intercession of saints.
I trust I shall hear you have not adopted any opinion of this
kind ; but to sign a complete testimonial for orders requires a
good deal more knowledge of the person who desires them, than
we can possibly have of you without this inquiry, after so long
an absence from Oxford. — I am always, my dear Sir, yours very
faithfuUy, Edward Hawkins.
A. Mozley, Esq.
1 My brother Arthur took his B.A. degree Christmas 1840, at the age of
twenty-one.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 135
To his Sister. Oxford, November 24, 1842.
What do you think of the Provost sending Arthur's testi
monials after aU ?
Mr. CasweU, the Mormonite, has been here coUecting books
for his College in America. Mormonism was, of course, the
subject, and one be is never tired of opening out. His deaf
ness prevents him from entering into conversation strictly
speaking, so he is compelled to bold forth ; not that he is averse
at aU to the advantage thus derived from his infirmity His
facts are certainly most curious, and he is so dry and quaint —
so American with all his Churchmanship. He screws up his
mouth in such a way, as he winds up a good story. Knaves
are especially delightful to him, and that constitutes the great
charm of the Mormonite subject. He considers Smith the
greatest scamp that ever lived, and himself, of course, privUeged
in proportion in the acquaintance he has formed with him.
He breakfasted with me this morning, and entertained the
party considerably. He is evidently a person of thorough
business-like habits, and most American spirit of adventure;
cares nothing for journeys. He goes to Cambridge in a day or
two. The Heads of Houses are going to do a good thing in peti
tioning for the Welsh Bishoprics. This is an improvement
on their ordinary proceedings, as the Church Commission is a
chUd of Sir Eobert Peel's. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister.
Oxford, December 10, 1842.
I send you Palmer's and Ward's letters, which tell their
own history. People are afraid that the former wiU do harm
from its strength of language and anathemas. Palmer has a
penchant for anathematising ; he has been longing to do it for
some time, and this was too favourable an opportunity to resist.
Ward does not get out of the scrape very weU ; and his asser
tion about J. H. N. is too like a puff — incomparably greater, as
if he was puffing off some quack medicine. Things are looking

136 Letters of the
as favourable as one could expect ; whatever be the event of
the contest, we shall show such strength as wiU convince the
world that we are not a mere clique. J. H. N. is disquieted at
 's proceedings [aUuding to some extreme proceedings
by a young High Church incumbent]. He is a foolish fellow,
and ought to be floored ; not but that his seniors have set him
the example, there is no denying. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister. Oxford, December 20, 1842.
There is a quondam member of the College visiting us just
now, namely, Sibthorpe [who had recently gone over to Eome] ;
he is with Bloxam, and dines with the President to-day. I have
not seen him, and probably shall not ; though, I beheve, he is
prepared to receive callers. I cannot say, for my own part,
that I have any great respect either for his character or his
conduct, and, as I do not know much of him, shall not think it
necessary to run any chance of an awkward interview. The
President always was fond of him, though how far it arose
from a partiality for old families that had tenanted the College,
as Sibthorpe's, from time immemorial, it is impossible to say.
It is supposed that if Sibthorpe had not resigned, it would have
been a long time before the President could have brought him
self to cross his name out. It is rather curious that S.'s fall
from his carriage seems likely, from what one hears, to have
the effect of withdrawing him from a public and important
position among the Eoman Catholics. They say his head has
been so much affected by it, that preaching will be a great
exertion. Bloxam thinks that half from this, and half from not
liking his new associates particularly, he will probably retire
into private life. I hear Wiseman is much disappointed at the
small chances of our all coming over. Mr. PhiUips had misled
him by extravagant accounts. — Yours, J. B. M.
Late in 1842, a Magdalen friend had gone over to Eome.
J. B. M. writes to his sister : —

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 137
February 25, 1843.
I saw a letter from B. S. the other day, from Oscot. It did
not seem to me written in spirits, and he seemed to have
nothing to say about the persons there ; aU is system and
routine, going on and on like a machine. I fancy there are
one or two clever interesting men there, who probably would
not treat S. with any particular attention after they had got him.
Wiseman, I understand, is rather a don. The rest are mere
second-rate teachers in the school. They bad been having a
burial, and the quantity of Dies irce seemed to have oppressed
poor B. S. not a httle.— Yours, J. B. M.
To his Sister. March 25, 1843.
My dear Anne, — I have got over my labours1 for the
British Critic, I am happy to say, although one is rather sorry
at the same time to dismiss a regular employment of some
months' reading and writing. Ward intimated to me yester
day that Tom could write a strong article when he chose, not
referring perhaps to any recent communication, but some time
back. . . . Ward is not a little touchy about his compositions
in the British Critic. But I know nothing about it. I should
say that most of Ward's articles were obnoxious to pretty
strong criticisms. I hope J. H. N.'s criticism of my own,
last October,2 has done some good, and made the present
article a better arranged affair than that. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister.
April 6, 1843.
My dear Anne, — Thank you very sincerely for your critical
epistle. I see you know bow to please an unfortunate author
who wants a little bit of praise after the termination of his
labours. . . . The fact is, history must be pictorial, or even
theatrical to a certain extent, in order to effect its object. It
1 " Strafford."
2 "Development of the Church in the Seventeenth Century.''

138 Letters of the
is aU very fine talking about simple facts and solid narrative,
and so on; yon must have something more than sohdity to
give a true idea even of the facts themselves. I should like to
know the parts that yon thought obscure. I have one or two
in my eye. . . . Tom has sent me a note, very complimentary,
but intimating that my hero must be considered, after all, a
despotic character, and that despotism rebounds upon itself.
He says this as if it was half his own opinion, half what others
would say. I confess I tried to make it clear that despotism
(monarchy, that is) was constitutional then, and that a man
might stick up for it, as he might for anything else established.
Was this clear to you — i.e. my historical view on the subject ?
My view, I say — but really I thought every person except
strongly prejudiced Liberals acknowledged it. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
In the May of 1 843 he was much occupied with the Welsh
Bishoprics, the Church Commission being about to bring in a
biU for the union of the two Sees of St. Asaph and Bangor,
and the appropriation of the funds of the suppressed bishopric
to other Church purposes.1 Against this measure J. B. M.
used his pen with effect, through such means as offered them
selves. A packet of letters remains addressed to him from the
Temple, by Mr. E. Badeley, himself very energetic in the cause
and in communication with the leading opponents of the bill.
His letters at first are not hopeful. He writes to J. B. M. :—
Temple, May 6, 1843.
My dear Mozley, — ... I saw the Bishop of Bangor on
Sunday, and from him I learnt that Lord Powis had had an-
1 " It is not too well known that, among the recommendations of the
Ecclesiatical Commissioners for England and Wales, which form the sub
stance of the celebrated Act of 6 and 7 Will. iv. c. 77, is one which provides
for the union of these two time-honoured bishoprics, as they are happily
termed in » document now lying before us ; in other words, for the sup
pression of one of them upon the first vacancy, presuming, of course, that the
survivor agrees to undertake the additional responsibility. Nothing is required
but an Order of the Queen in Council to give effect to this calamitous pro
vision which has now become part and parcel of the law of the land, subject
only to the aforesaid condition." — British Critic, vol. xxxiii. p. 237. Jan. 1843.

Rev. f.B. Mozley, D.D. 139
other interview with the Archbishop to receive his answer to
the deputation which addressed him at the beginning of March
— that the Archbishop was obstinate, and gave no hope of
yielding — that there had been a meeting of Welsh Peers and
the Primus at Lord Powis's house, where it had been agreed to
make an attempt with the Government, and for this purpose
to send a deputation to Sir E. Peel, with the Bishops of
Bangor and St. Asaph at its head, and, after this effort to bring
the Ministers over, to introduce the proposed biU into the Lords
instead of the Commons, as before intended. . . . Ever yours
sincerely, E. Badeley.
The "proposed biU" here mentioned was a biU to repeal
so much of the Church Commission Act as affected the two
threatened Sees. Again, May 9, Mr. Badeley writes : —
The Welsh Bishopric question has been somewhat sleepy of
late. I beheve it is only by frequently repeated raps that we
can hope to keep it awake. ... I am rather anxious for a re
newal of agitation. Might not a convenient road be opened,
through this question, first to putting the Ecclesiastical Com
mission in its true position, and thence letting aU people into
proper views about Convocation and Ecclesiastical Synods. The
ignorance on these subjects is hideous. You probably know
Newman's articles on Convocation in the British Magazine
some seven or eight years ago. I have almost wished for a
separate reprint of them, with additions.
Again : — May 12.
I have looked in vain, and asked other persons with equal
bad success, for the speech of the Archbishop which you want.
The North Wales Deputation are to go to Sh E. Peel to
morrow. They do not seem very sanguine of success, but the
biU, I conclude, will be brought in, and it might be worth
while to give it a start when it comes.
On the 17th of May, Mr. Badeley writes : —
I saw Lord Powis yesterday, and had a long account from

140 Letters of the
him of his interviews with the Archbishop and Sir E. Peel
about the North Wales Bishopric. The Primate and the Premier
were alike unsatisfactory. The former repeated his old absurd
answers, "that be saw no particular reason for altering the
Law now — that no objection had been made at the time," etc.,
etc. The latter seemed to think that if be concurred in any
change of what had thus been decided by legislation and the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners, he should be shaking the con
fidence of the country ! ! The Duke of Wellington puts him
self with the Archbishop, and thus I fear there is very little
chance of success this year. Of the Bishops; Lord Powis
seemed to think there were nine with us, six against us, and
nine more less doubtful. Perhaps your plan may be best — to
omit the firing of shots at this time, and to resume the subject
in order to another bill next year — though I confess I should
have liked some very pungent articles on the Government and
the Commission at once, in order to show thenfthe unpopularity
as well as the folly and iniquity of the course they are pur
suing. — Ever yours, most sincerely, E. Badeley.
Lord Powis means to move the second reading of our St.
Asaph BiU next Tuesday, the 23d.
Mr. Badeley to J. B. M.
Temple, June 2, 1843.
Dear Mozley, — Lord Powis has fixed the 1 1th of this month
for his fight in the Lords about the N. Wales Bishopric, and a
severe fight it is likely to be. If you have an opportunity, it
would be as well to launch the forked lightning of P. H. S.
at the Government and the Archbishop again, before the day
comes. There may be some occasion for doing so, by noticing
what has been done within the last few days at Oxford,— the
Vice-ChanceUor and Heads having agreed to give Lord Powis
a D.C.L at the Commemoration, in testimony of the sense the
University entertains of his services on this question. The
V.-C. sent a communication to this effect to Lord Powis, and he
is much gratified with the compliment, and accepts. Peel and

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 141
the Abp. are as obstinate as ever. Lord Powis bad a more
good-humoured and favourable interview with the Duke and
the Bp. of London than he had with Abp. and Peel. The
Abp. told Lord Powis that as he bad now got archdeacons and
saved the canonries of St. Asaph and Bangor, he might be
satisfied. Lord Powis answered, that " archdeacons and canons
were not bishops." (N.B. — This was a private interview.)
Peel was dry and formal, and iU-tempered. The Bishops of
Exeter and Sarum came up to town, on purpose to aid our
biU. ... I think our friends are put upon their mettle. You
may aid the good cause by another preparatory shot. — Ever
yours sincerely, E. Badeley.
Dr. Pusey's suspension for two years, viewed in aU its
circumstances and his own behaviour under it, was certainly
one of the most striking events of this eventful period. The
stir that foUowed the announcement of the suspension, and the
indignation amongst Dr. Pusey's friends, may be seen in the
home letter written in the midst of all the work of protest : —
To his Sister. Oxford, June 4, 1843.
I have been writing day after day aU this week, but some
thing has just come to take me over the post time. You have
heard, of course, of Pusey's suspension for two years, by the
papers. It excites enormous indignation. AU persons who
are not quite with the Heads of Houses' clique are disgusted.
It was really a sermon which people heard and went away,
thinking it fine and eloquent of course, and giving high views
of the Eucharist; but as for any doctrine, the idea never
entered into any one's head, tiU the fact came out. The
Heads wUl find themselves in the wrong, their mode of
conducting the whole business has been so desperately unfair,
not to say actuaUy arrogant and tyrannical. What do you
say to Pusey, in the interval between the caU for the sermon
and the judgment, actuaUy receiving a note from the V.-Chan-
ceUor — a formal and official one — commanding him to hold

142 Letters of the
no intercourse with his friends on the subject ? The sermon
is published, and now, I hope, something in the way of a
general display of sentiment will take place.1 . . . They have
no notion of law — not an idea that there is anything in rerum
naturae, to prevent them doing what they please. The Provost
is in high spirits, so bland and courteous. He thinks he has
done the thing, but it remains to be proved which way, for they
have now made it a war pro aris et focis. If a thing of this
kind were tolerated for a moment, we might as well take our
selves off with our tails between our legs. To show you the
unrestrained, loose idea they have of their position, when
Hampden first beard of his citation by Macmullen, he sent to
bis Proctor to say " he should have nothing to do with it —
nothing to do with it." His Proctor advised him to change his
mind on the subject, as in that case he should be reluctantly
compelled to arrest him the next morning. This is a symptom
of their state of mind. I send you a little thing of my own, and
Pusey's protest, though of course you have seen the latter.
Mine is a technical affair rather. You wiU understand, how
ever, the main drift of it.
I should have written yesterday, but what with having to
attend Convocation, honising, and squibbing, I let the whole day
pass. Three o'clock is the worst time in the world for the post
to go out. Tom left to take his duty at Cholderton yesterday ;
comes back to-morrow. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
T. M. and his wife were at Oxford at this time. In a letter
to her sister, June 12, Mrs. Thomas Mozley writes : — "James is
1 The occasion is so very long past that a few facts may help the
reader. The subject of the sermon preached at Christ Church, the Fourth
Sunday after Easter, was " The Holy Eucharist, a Comfort to the Peni
tent." Objection was taken to it, and complaint made to the Vice-
Chancellor, Dr. Wynter, by Dr. Faussett, Margaret Professor of Divinity.
Upon this the Vice-Chancellor sent for the sermon, and appointed six
Doctors in conjunction with himself — their names, Dr. Faussett, the com
plainant j Dr. Jenkyns, Master of Balliol ; Dr. Hawkins, Provost of Oriel ;
Dr. Syinons, Warden of Wadham ; Dr. Jelf, Canon of Christ Church ; Dr.
Ogilvie, Regius Professor of Pastoral Theology. Sentence of suspension
was passed, but the Vice-Chancellor steadily refused then, or at any
subsequent period, to state the grounds of condemnation.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. ¦ 143
at the bottom of everything that is going on;" at the same
time repeating that all the world was criticising Dr. Pusey's
line. Clearly be was a man difficult to help, but the result
proved that bis own course of action fitted his character.
In this busy and exciting period, J. B. M. stUl found time
for the British Critic, and was in communication with Mr.
Badeley on certain legal points connected with the proposed
Jerusalem Bishopric, on which an article of his appeared in the
July number of that periodical.
To return to the leading subject of the day, he writes
home : — Oxford, July 4, 1843.
I hope Arthur sent you a good account bow things were
going on. On looking back, the whole term is just like a
dream, and one only has a vague recoUection that one has
been bustling about, both in body and mind, and doing no
thing, as one ordinarily does, and that, among other things,
there has been a sort of suspension of the ordinary communi
cations home. The address to the Vice-ChanceUor has not got
on so well as might have been expected, so many who entirely
disapprove of the Heads' proceedings objecting to the form of
the address, or of an address at all. . . . The mysterious corre
spondence between the Vice-Chancellor and Pusey leaves a kind
of terra incognita, which makes people feel not comfortable.
Pusey has been most unfortunate in allowing himself to be
caught so. He has absolutely got suspicion upon himself for
what should have been indignation at the other party's injustice.
I have just cast my eye over Tom's article, the B. C. being only
just come. He seems to take a good bold straightforward line
as to the total Ulegality and informahty of the act, though
what legal redress is practicable is another question. — Yours,
J. B. M.
Friends from the country had written, taking the same line.
Mr. Eickards, of Stow-Langtoft, writes, on first bearing the
news : —

1 44 Letters of the
Mr. Eickards to J. B. M.
Stowlangtoft, June 17, 1843.
My dear Mozley, — Thank you for the papers which, one
after another, you have been so good as to send me. We
are all at a pause here, and in amazement too — waiting for
the sermon ; hardly believing that the Doctors can have
condemned the doctrine of the Eeal Presence, and still less
wUling to believe that Dr. Pusey can have taught that by
transubstantiation or consubstantiation. At present, in aU this
ignorance, the only thing I am shocked at is, the not saying to
him outright, You have offended thus and thus. All the rest
I can suppose accounted for ; but this I speak not of tiU I know
more, lest I should use bard words in vain. — Believe me, my
dear Mozley, most sincerely yours, Samuel Eickards.
And, on the publication of the letter, he thus delivers his
feelings : — Stowlangtoft, July 6, 1843.
My dear Anne, — . . . This morning I have been reading
Dr. Pusey's sermon with amazement at what has happened, and
with indignation at the doctors. I cannot write the word with
a big D while I write it of them. There is a good deal in the
sermon of another sort which I did not expect — I mean, oddly
and questionably expressed (I think) ; but as to the substance
of it, and, most of all, on the point censured, if that be not true
primitive and Church of England doctrine, I am much more
astray myself than I believe myself to be. Indeed, I am
shocked at the decision beyond, and far beyond, what I ex
pected, until I read for myself. — Believe me, most sincerely,
your friend, Samuel Eickards.
At the end of July, J. B. M. writes from Oxford : —
"1 have seen hardly anybody here. 30,000 sold — the last
account of Pusey's sermon ; so said at least. [Frank] Faber had
a note from Pusey yesterday, describing himself as receiving a
great deal of sympathy from all quarters. The Bishop of Oxford
has declared strongly in defence of the sermon. Eyder has just

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 145
told me of an uncle of his, a strong Whig, who thinks the
Doctors have behaved most unjustly. Whatever Pusey may
get, they have got and will get nothing by the affair. — Yours,
J. B. M.
The following note is among the first in a collection of
James Mozley's letters, to his friend Mr. Church (now Dean
of St. Paul's), from which I have been aUowed to select letters
on subjects of the day, and on deeper or more personal matters,
which wiU be felt to add greatly to the interest of the present
volume.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
12 Paper Buildings, August 1843.
My dear Church, — Have tidings of the correspondence
between Badeley and the Vice-ChanceUor reached you ? The
V.-C. has positively refused to receive the address, and attributed
malicious and seditious motives to the signers of it ! — says they
are acting against their University oaths ! You never saw such
a document for unbridled folly. Gladstone, Judge Coleridge,
and aU are put together, and the whole set put down as boys ;
and the V.-C. acts as if he were the Vice-Chancellor of the
universe. Badeley is amazingly on the qui vive about it, enjoy
ing it more than I can describe. Gladstone is excessively
indignant ; Hook rages. The latter has dedicated a new work
of his to Pusey ; I question whether he has not written it on
purpose to dedicate it. On the whole, it is a rich chmax. . . .
— Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In the autumn of 1843 Mr. Newman resigned St. Mary's.
James seems to have written to him either on the fact or the
rumour reaching him; for the answer, dated September 1, thanks
him for a "most kind note;" then, for the first time, confiding
to him his reasons for the step. To his sister he writes : —
Oxford, September 6, 1843.
Newman giving up St. Mary's is indeed sad news. He says
in his note to me he is very sick at the idea of it. . . . At
K

1 46 Letters of the
Westminster Abbey, on Friday, I met Captam Bowden, who
engaged me to come to him at Wimbledon on the Monday.
There I met H. W. WUberforce. He is as amusing as ever.
He gave us an accurate account of the paper got up in his own
parish against himself and his curate (St. John) by a set of
people, James the novelist among the rest. The Archbishop
behaved very weU about it, and took no notice. St. John was
offered the living, on H. W.'s recommendation, but declined
on finding he could not keep his studentship of Ch. Ch,
with it.
It was a time of stir and agitation of thought — a time when
persons were thrown upon themselves, to act no longer as
members of a party under a leader, but each to consult his own
judgment, experience, and character how best to work for the
cause and principles he had at heart. The foUowing letters
recognise the importance of the crisis : —
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Bearwood, September 11, 1843.
My dear Church, — . . . Now I have a piece of news for
you. My brother has given up the British Critic. This is not
exactly public as yet, but will be soon. Both Eogers and
myself think that you would be just the person to succeed.
What say you ? Of course Eivington has not made any offer as
yet, nor do I hear of his having written to J. H. N. or any
body ; but if one had a name one might be at him in the first
instance, and prevent the B. C. getting out of our hands
altogether. For I think it just possible that Eivington may
take fright now, and put the B. C. back into its old quarters
again. Things are looking melancholy now, my dear Church, and
yon and I and all of us who can act together must be bestirring
ourselves. I feel as if a new stage in the drama were beginning,
in which we shall have to do the uncomfortable thing, and
take rather higher parts than we have done hitherto, or at any
rate we must try our best. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.

Rev. J. B. Mozley, D.D. 147
Of another person unsettled by the aspect of affairs, and
avowing a leaning towards Eome, he writes about the same
time to a friend : — September, 1843.
A. B. never cared much about the Church of England. AU
his very youthful days he was a Liberal, or something hke one,
and thought the Church system, and the Oxford system, and
aU systems established wrong, much on the Liberal system of
change. Afterwards he altered in deference to Newman and
Froude. But he never had any feehngs for the Church ; he
never cared about her best men or her interesting periods. He
never cared a jot for Charles 1., or Laud, and all the rest of
them. He has not, and never had, any historical, poetical, or
romantic associations connected with her. All this is quite
out of his line. He sees nothing but what exists practically be
fore his eyes, — a bad diseased system. And the soul or essence
of a Church, which lives underneath, it is not his character to
see. We should take our Church as a whole, and look on her
historically, and trace her tendencies. He would call this
mere Toryism. You unfortunate High Church, as you call
yourselves in the country, I can assure you, are not a bit worse
off than we of that school are elsewhere.
We must all comfort one another as well as we can. I
should like much to have some talk with you. I am melancholy,
but do not despair. There is a spirit within the Church now,
I think, that will work whatever individuals leave her.
Another of his letters, about the same date, ends —
" I for one must and wUl believe that this Church exists and
may be appealed to, elicited, brought out, and developed in a
course of time from amidst the mass of inconsistencies that
encumber her."
In this state of feeling the retention of the British Critic, as
the organ of the High Church party, was a matter of concern
to him.

148 Letters of the September 16, 1843.
My dear Church, — You are indeed a most modest person,
as I always thought you, and as aU your friends think you. I
admire genuine modesty and humility. I have a penchant for
it. Nevertheless I should like to see you editor of the B. C,
and wish it depended on myself. Unfortunately that , is not
the case. I called on Eivington the other day. He was very
civil, even communicative on the subject of the B. C. Seemed
less alarmed at the whole state of things than I expected;
inclined to keep up B. C. on its hitherto footing, only dropping
Oakeley But he did not give any opening for my talking
of a successor, otherwise I should have mustered all my
delicacies and impudencies and ambages, and insinuated a
certain individual who was the author of mediaeval articles, and
who seemed exactly to represent the tone that he wished to
keep up. As it was, I departed, though perhaps something
may have been done. I was studiously moderate, of course. I
suspect he took my visit as an offer of myself. This was my
fear at the first, but it could not be avoided.
I hardly expect to be in Oxford yet. I have not been
very well lately — that is, have bad a cold of a nastier descrip
tion than my ordinary colds are, and should like to get home or
to the sea-side if I could. I am about an article on Pusey's
sermon, which I am sick of, though I only began it two days
ago. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Oxford, November 7, 1843.
We have been uncommonly quiet this term, one reason of
which is that almost everybody is ill or invalided. [Frank]
Faber wan as ever. Palmer has his eyes so bad that he cannot
use them for anything. I am something of an invalid too, though
Wootton says there is nothing the matter with me. Archdeacon
Manning preached on Sunday, a testification sermon against
the British Critic. I did not like either the matter or tone.
He seemed really so carried away by fear of Eomanism that he
almost took under his patronage the Puritans and the Whigs of

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 149
1688, because they had settled the matter against the Pope.
He did not indeed commit himself into a direct approval of
them and the means they used, but talked of the whole move
ment as having had a happy event and being providential.
Yet he went up to Littlemore and saw J. H. N. yesterday. I
suppose he wants to disconnect himself regularly from the
ultra party, and has taken this means. The Heads are im
mensely taken with the sermon of course. It had no merits as
a composition, and was much inferior to his former ones. . . .
As for Y. Z., I do not think he means to cut the party
altogether, but is one of those persons who are always think
ing of their own position, just as invalids think of their
stomachs; and if he signs an address to the V.-C. he must
prop himself up by some counter step the next opportunity.
Sibthorpe [who had lately renounced Eome, and returned
to the Church he had so lately forsaken] is expected here
at Christmas. He has suffered, Bloxam says, amazingly
throughout. But there are some persons who privately enjoy
these spiritual uneasinesses and doubts, and I half suspect he
is one. Mariolatry is the point on which he has started. I
have no doubt there are things to astonish any one in that way,
but he might have anticipated them. . . . Yours affection
ately, J. B. Mozley.
In a letter home he writes : — November 14, 1843.
E. Palmer is going to present his Fellowship to the College
to buy new windows for the chapel, and we are going to rebuild
our gateway in Gothic style. Pugin has sent in a plan which
will probably be adopted.
Lincoln's Inn Preachership is now in the field. Manning
and Palmer met, and had mutual complimentings and offerings
to withdraw. Manning, I think, stands. Claughton is another
candidate. They say Manning is too strong for the Lincoln's
Inn men ; if so, it shows the inutility of men making demon
strations, for his sermon here was thought quite low. You see
Palmer [of Worcester], notwithstanding aU his demonstrations,
figures in The Standard as a Puseyite and introducer of

150 Letters of the
Eomanism. The Standard professes to see through his protest.
How unlucky ! The world won't believe people, say what they
will. All are put together in one heap. We are going on
now in a sort of jumble-jamble way — differing amongst our
selves and attacked from without. No one can look very far
into the future, and prophesy from such confused data. The
clearest heads are puzzled, and our great strength lies in the
anility and low principles of our assailants. It is to be hoped
there is sufficient good principle at bottom left among us
for people not to allow themselves to be ridden over by the
Hebdomadal Board.— Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
The latter allusion is to a test or statute the Board was
suspected of planning about B.D. degrees.
A letter, dated December 9, says that "Eivington has for
certain offered the British Critic to Palmer (of Worcester), and
Palmer is going to get up a meeting of Hook, etc., to know
what he can do."
I am informed on the best authority that this statement is
not correct. " It was decided to discontinue the British Critic.
The editorship was not offered to any one. Mr. Palmer sug
gested another Church organ, which was issued under the
title of the English Review."
In January 1844 I find a letter to J. B. M. from Mr. Palmer,
asking for contributions to his periodical, and specifying the
class of articles he would prefer, suggesting, for example,
Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, Travels in Ethiopia, Letters from
Canada : — a circumscribed range, which was not likely to offer
many attractions ; though there is nothing to show this from
J. B. M. himself. In July of this year my brother announces
to Mr. Church that the Christian Remembrancer is going to
become a quarterly ; and that in its new form be and the Eev.
WUliam Scott of Hoxton were to be joint editors. James
contributed to the first number, which came out in October
1844, his article on Dr. Arnold.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 151
Early in 1844 the Hebdomadal Board proposed a new
statute for conferring B.D. degrees, a matter on which there
had been a contention of some standing, between Dr. Hamp
den, whose office invested him with powers of conferring that
degree, and Mr. Macmullen, whose FeUowship required him
to proceed to B.D. in due course.
Against this proposed statute J. B. M. wrote a pamphlet,
which Mr. Eickards congratulates him upon : " Thank you for
the httle pamphlet, of which the praise is that it does its work
without becoming a big one — praise enough for any man or
thing," and which receives the warm compliments of his
friends, though no copy of it remains among the papers in
my possession. To his Sister. Oxford, April 1844.
. . . You see Hampden has rejected Macmullen after aU. I
only came late last night, and have seen nobody at aU yet. I
am glad that the question seems now brought to an issue, and
put in an inteUigible form before the world — namely, that
persons who differ in opinion from Dr. Hampden are not now
to be aUowed their B.D., and to be deprived of their FeUowship
in consequence. . . . Macmullen is saved by a clause in the
statute of his CoUege, which allows his Fellowship to go on for
a time if the attempt to get the degree has been made. . . .
Perhaps Mr. Eickards will send me a line before he comes
up. . . . Yours, J. B. M.
The next letter home tehs the fate of the statute in Convo
cation : — Oxford, May 3, 1844.
My dear Anne, — I had not time to tell you yesterday of
the event of the day. The majority was 341 against the
statute, 21 for it, which makes a proportion of some 16 to 1.
Nobody expected such a majority. , There is no doubt that if
the Heads had been united among themselves, and taken it up

152 Letters of the
warmly, they could have commanded at any rate a few more
than nine votes, for twelve among the Heads themselves must
have passed the statute and voted for it in Congregation, which
leaves nine Masters. Mr. Eickards dined with me on Wednes
day, and a number of men looked in in the evening who had
just come up. Bridges came up. X. was in high force, darting
about, and speaking to almost six people at once, not having
patience to get through any complete sentence to one individual
before another became the object of his attention. Tom I saw
for about half-an-hour. He went up to lunch at Mrs. Pearson's
with Mr. Bickard and J. H. N. Dr. Hook looked remarkably
majestic. There was a gay sprinkling of silk gowns in the
theatre and quadrangle. The day was lucky too — a fine day is
half the battle on such occasions. I hardly think any of the
non-residents grumbled at having come up ; they seemed to
enjoy it. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
As one way of accounting for the smaUness of the Heads'
minority, a previous letter speaks of " the Duke " having had
the proposed statute laid before him : —
The Duke's answer is considered a decided snub. . . .
I cannot help thinking that Gladstone has been consulted
by the Duke upon it. At any rate his character and known
connection with the movement n had not improbably an in
fluence over a fellow Cabinet Minister. But the Duke's
straightforwardness accounts for it without any other supposi
tion. . . .
My patronage (as Fellow of Magdalen) is all over for an
immense time. So my friends will care nothing about me,
especially the dear ones from Lincolnshire and the stupid
fathers of stupid sons, and all that class. — Yours,
J. B. M.
Oxford, May 20, 1844.
I bear from Badeley that there is no hope of the Welsh
Bishoprics Bill passing this time. Lord Powis and others
bad an interview with Sir E. Peel and the Archbishop the

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 153
other day, and both were as obstinate as possible — said that
the confidence of the country would be shaken if the decision
of the Ecclesiastical Commission was upset. Nevertheless
Lord Powis is to bring the biU into the House next week.
A letter two or three weeks later, from J. B. M., is in a
different tone : —
Lord Powis and Serjeant Talfourd are to have D.C.L.
degrees at Commemoration. The former should be cheered
decidedly. I heard from Badeley this morning in high spirits at
his success with the Welsh Bishoprics ; the poor Archbishop
[Howley], he says, was tamer than conceivable ; seemed at
last almost ashamed of himself. The Bishop of Exeter was
very good.
In the same letter is a notice of Professor WUliam Donkin,
whose taste — or rather genius — for music was remarkable : —
Donkin played " Adelaide." There is certainly a sui generis
character about his playing. He seems to personate a whole
band — I mean aU the variety and starts and flashes of it — in
miniature. It is different from ordinary execution. Thus in the
overture be played, the effect is not flashy or loud, but only
very versatile, subtle, and varied.
In his Life of Bishop Wilberforce, Canon Ash well gave a
a page to the opposition raised to the election of Dr. Symons
as Vice-Chancellor in succession to Dr. Wynter, on the ground
of his having been one of the Six Doctors. The letters before
us show how one or two eager spirits, confident in their cause,
can override hesitation. Of course all the party were of one
mind as to the fact that Symons was a most undesirable Vice-
Chancellor. He was reported to have said the Puseyites had
been treated too leniently, and ought to have been crushed
long ago. His animus was bitter and unscrupulous. But the
question was the expediency of the opposition. Mr. Henry

154 Letters of the
Wall of Balliol gave the chief impulse to the move. A letter
from him brings out that J. B. M.'s first feeling had been
against it. "I was not aware," writes Mr. Wall, "of the
extent of your aversion to the measure of opposing Symons ;"
so it is clear be had to be won over ; but the letter shows a
confidence of being able to carry the point, which had its effect.
James is brought round, and writes to Mr. Keble. Mr.
Keble answers : —
Mr. Keble to J. B. M.
I am sorry to seem to demur at any proposal of yours, but
the truth is, I am not at all satisfied as to the expediency of
such a move as this relating to the Vice-ChanceUorship. I
argued the point at Bisley with some one who seemed to
think there were reasons of justice and dutifulness against it,
and I said I had no feeling of that kind, but I doubted the
expediency. However, if Marriott [Isaac WilUams had
written from Bisley strongly for the opposition to Symons]
thought good to summon me, I promised to go. And then
Marriott said therewas little or no chance of a majority, but if
we had only 150 votes against Symons, it would be worth
while, etc. I wiU write to E. Wilberforce and some other
friends, but I fear it wiU be very little that I shaU be able to
do. Your ground seems quite the right one, and I shall try
to state it to people as well as I can. May I ask what would
be the immediate consequence of our getting a majority, should
so unlikely a thing occur ? i" tell people, merely to make
the next man, whoever he be, more careful.
Writing home, J. B. M. says : — September 4, 1844.
Touching the V.-C. business, the thing is capable of being
looked at two ways. Merely as an attack on Symons it is
weak, but considering the whole of the present Vice-
Chancellorship has been one continuous course of positive
unconstitutional proceedings, it is a fair and solid ground to
take to make a protest against it, and oppose a man as V.-C.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 155
who is certain to continue it. And the time of a new V.-C.
coming in is a definite, marked time to select from the show.
It is certain to be done now, and, on the whole, I am glad
for it. Keble, I. Williams, and E. WUberforce are for it. The
latter I was rather surprised at, but it proves so far that the
idea commends itself to people.
E. Wilberforce, however, did not vote. Mr. Keble's letter
was no doubt written when he had returned from Bisley to
Hursley, and had thought quietly over the matter. An insight
into the rise and progress of the affair seems to make some
unaccountable things more intelligible. The result justified
the less sanguine in their hesitation. Dr. Symons was elected
by a majority of 882 to 183.
The first number of the Christian Remembrancer, as a
quarterly, came out October 1844. Each editor contributed
an article — James Mozley on Dr. Arnold, Mr. Scott on Mr.
Keble's Prelections as Professor of Poetry. This article is
described in the f oUowing letter : — September 27, 1844.
My dear Anne, — It seems an age since I wrote home. I
have been, as you might conjecture, tolerably busy lately. But
the C. R. is all in the printer's hands now, and the thing finished
for good or for bad this time. I confess my own article has
been my chief work. I have not been very editorial. Scott's
article on Keble is exceedingly good, thoroughly critical and
scientific. It is an article it will do people positive good
to read through. That is not perhaps the most captivating
form of putting it. What I mean is that it points out a whole
scientific view of poetry, and a whole field of criticism that will
be new to many — of course gathered all from the Prelections.
The translation from the Latin of Keble sounds quaint at
times, but perhaps could not be helped. It is an odd situation
to be translating from the Latin of an Englishman.
With respect to Arnold I have taken the line that I really
and truly felt about him. And if any are offended I cannot

156 Letters of the
help it. I depreciate more than condemn him ; that is, I am
conscious that my style throughout supposes him a less great
man a good deal than what some think. However, it is no use
heralding one's-self in this way. — Yours affectionately, J. B.M.
A lady friend of Mr. Keble, in a letter of this date, tells me
that Mr. Keble very much approves of the Arnold article, and
speaks of James Mozley as a true son of the Church.
In October, after the number has come out and been read,
be writes to his sister at Cholderton : — •
I am glad to find my account of Arnold satisfies the Eugby
men fairly. I did not want to offend them.
Our minority, small as it is, seems to be producing effects.
Dr. Daubeny, caUing on Bloxam, said that he and others were
made so utterly miserable by such proceedings that they hoped
they never would occur again. Bloxam said that depended on
circumstances. The one fact of calling in question the rotation
seems to put people out immensely. Their idea of the Uni
versity is altogether disjointed by it. . . . Coleridge of Eton
replied to some insults from some members of the majority
rather well : " We have a saying at school that when a little
boy fights a big boy, the big boy does not bully him again."—
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Writing home he betrays a less cheerful tone on the same
subject. To his Sister Maria.
Oxford, November 8, 1844.
Things look dark and cloudy just now. There is a general
set upon us from all quarters, Conservative and Eadical. The
press never was so malignant. What is still worse is the utter
indifference of a great number. Men who talk for you in a
sort of way, and profess no sympathy with the attacks on us
—e.g. on Pusey— yet take advantage of the first opportunity
offered them, of coming up expressly to rivet the chain. A

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 157
large proportion of the majority last time was composed of men
with fair speeches in their mouths, who said they disliked
everything the Heads had done, but thought this was not the
mode or the occasion (or some periphrasis of that sort) of
showing it. I can quite understand men being quiet and not
liking to vote with us on such a question, but that men of
professed High Churchmanship, and professing a strong dis
approbation of the gross injustice shown to Pusey, should
actually go out of their way, put themselves to trouble, come
up in multitudes to perform a positive voluntary, gratuitous
act, of swamping us, so far as mere weight could do it, is a
fact that I cannot pass over ; it seems primd facie to show
such heartlessness. . . .
For my own part, I feel that to be giving way to melancholy
or disgust at the present state of things would be giving myself
airs. I have no right to do it. Moreover, all movements have
their dark times, and this may be only one of them, and one
hopes it wiU pass off.
With respect to J. H. N., aU I know about him is that he
has been regularly down about things for the last year or two,
and that he has expressed doubts as to the Catholicity of
the English Church. I don't know anything more about it.
He is hardly ever in Oxford now. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
The test spoken of in the following letter was an alteration
in the University Statutes proposed by the Hebdomadal Board,
to be appended to the condemnation of Mr. Ward's book, The
Ideal of a Christian Church Considered.
To his Sister.
There is a strong feehng against the Test in aU moderate
persons in Oxford and London, the only places I have been
in. Badeley met Ernest Hawkins, who was not only against it
himself, but said everybody else was he had seen. The ruse of
the piecing — the joining the Test to Ward's business — only re
quires to be seen, to get us a majority. They could not carry

158 Letters of the
a Test by itself. I hope it wUl be seen, though people are made
strangely blind by a provoking book like Ward's.
With respect to Ward, I would simply teU Mr. Eickards [at
whose house A. M. was staying, and who had expressed himseh
strongly against Ward], to think or not think about him, just
as he likes. The Test is the thing we are concerned with —
Ward can defend himself. The miserable state of things that
wiU ensue here if it passes makes it almost a personal matter
to ask one's friends to come up. Pusey will not take the Test —
that he has declared publicly. What is the result ? He will
be liable any day to expulsion or perpetual banishment from
the University. Every one who votes for the Test will be
voting for his immediate liability to that punishment. Hussey
the Professor, Eden, Baden Powell (!), and several Liberals,
Price of Eugby, are all strong against it — a curious mixture.
I distrust the Liberals, however, they hate us so. Gladstone
is very strong, and thinks every exertion ought to be made
against it. — Yours, J. B. M.
Towards the end of December J. B. M., as editor of the
Christian Remembrancer, sent Dr. Pusey proofs of an article
by H. W. W., to appear in the forthcoming number under
the title "The Vice-Chancellorship of Dr. Wynter." The
oUowing remarks and comments, with the returned proofs,
are honourably characteristic of the writer : —
Dr. Pusey to J. B. M.
PRIVATE. December 20, '44.
My dear M., — I doubt very seriously about all this invec
tive against Dr. Wynter, because I was certain the whole was
the proceeding of a timid, not of an unscrupulous man. He
was afraid to commit himself, afraid to commit the University,
afraid to make known why he condemned my sermon, or to let
it pass uncondemned; unwUling to sentence me without
giving me any chance of escape, yet afraid to commit himself
to any controversy, and most unwilling of aU that I should be
able to say such and such propositions were given me to accept

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 159
or reject. He thereby sacrificed himself; but, however, he
became embittered, as it seems ; and, although timidity often
becomes the greatest cruelty, such was the key to his conduct,
and so it is really wrong to speak of meanness, etc. These
personal attacks always do harm to those who make them. I
wish you would read over and amend these pages with this key.
I think much would be better re-written. H. W. was in a
great hurry, and has not put forth his mind. There are abusive
epithets which do harm, but not much power. To say the
whole, I involved myself so far, in my anxiety to obtain or
force a hearing, that, though they took no notice of what I
wrote, I committed myself enough to admit of a plausible
prima facie case to be made out, to give the Record and
Standard scope for abuse. I am not anxious, then, for ex
planations. Of course, I know I am in the right in what I
said; but there is enough in what I did to explain myself
(though utterly useless), to enable them to throw dust into
others' eyes. — Yours affectionately, E. B. P.
P.S. — I have made two observations in the margin, but half
erased them lest they should be printed. I have also altered
one or two passages ; if my substitution looks like my style
you can retouch it.
In the midst of these exciting distractions, J. B. M. was
engaged on his Article on Laud, which appeared January 1845,
on which he writes to his sister : — December 27.
I have been writing an article on Laud — my own biogra
phical hne again. He is a considerably more difficult character
than Arnold — great, but twisty. It is difficult to follow him
into all his corners. However, it is one good result of writing
for a point of time — when the end of the month is come the
thing must go in, good or bad, and it is over.
To his Sister. London, January 23, 1845.
They have got an opinion about the Degradation and the
Test from Bethell and Dodson (Queen's Advocate), strongly

1 60 Letters of the
against the legality of both. This was shown at the Hebdo
madal Board, and oh ! oh ! d. ; on the principle that any opinion
could be got for two guineas. Nevertheless, it seems pretty
certain that they wiU withdraw the Test. Almost the whole
Board were giving their experience of the overwhelming
majority of votes against it there was certain to be, the
Provost alone declaring that bis experience was two to one for ;
and that people's eyes were opening to its merits every day.
Gaisf ord said he had been advised by a person of " very high
consideration," supposed to be Sir J. Graham, to carry the two
former [condemnation and degradation of Ward] with a high
hand, but not to press the latter [the test].
At this time we gather from a letter of Archdeacon S.
Wilberforce to Mr. Gladstone, the test was really given up.1
The statute, however, continued the subject of eager dis
cussion beyond the date of this announcement. In one College
several of the FeUows had declared their intention to the V.-C,
to vote for the Test, when they were startled by the objection
that it imposed an additional examination : " Very well, then,
you want to saddle a new examination on the CoUege." " Oh !
Examination — I never heard anything about that." Second
Voice— "That's quite a different thing." Third— "I 'U be
hanged if I 'U vote for a new examination."
The Test being given up, the Hebdomadal Board startled
the University by proposing the condemnation of Number
Ninety — as a sort of second thought.
To his Sister. Oxford, Febriwtry 1, 1845.
The Number Ninety move is a gross one indeed ; I should
1 " Since I wrote to you last, and told you in confidence the then decision,
I have heard again (also in confidence) what much qualified that information.
It is that — (1.) The Board of Heads will not withdraw the new statute
solely because they will be beat upon it in Convocation ; (2.) That they mil,
on address signed by men of known moderation ; (3.) That they are cer
tainly not averse to such an address ; (4.) That I am esteemed a fit person
to prepare it. I have drawn up this, and sent it to some friends." — Life of
Bishop Wilberforce, vol. i. p. 356.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 161
hardly think it can succeed. In the first place, there is not
time for it now, to bring it on on the 13 th ; and it could hardly
do to renew. That da capo plan seldom succeeds. There
must be a week's notice, according to the rules of the Hebdo
madal Board, before the discussion of the matter there, after
the presentation of the petition. This, if the petition is pre
sented Monday after next, which is the first opportunity it can,
makes the simple discussion of the matter impossible at the
Board till after the 1 3th, unless they violate their own rules,
and, if they did, there is not, I think, statutable time from
Monday to Thursday for the proposition that is to be brought
before Convocation. Anyhow, it would have to be done with
such disgraceful precipitation, that they dare hardly venture on
it. Golightly is in thick communication with Dr. EUerton,
and is coming in and going out of CoUege every day. He, and
E., and F. are the trio on the subject. E. says nothing about it
in public, which, if he was getting on well, he would cer
tainly do ; I asked him how he was getting on this morning,
and he informed me that he had received the name of Mr.
Hugh Stowell, at which I was not surprised. After aU, it is
reaUy an impertinence for such men to head a movement,
and think that the world wiU follow them. Their names wiU
hardly do ; at least, the fury of people must be tremendous
if they can be caught by such.
Church [who, as Proctor, was member of the Board] describes
the Hebdomadal Board as in a great fix about the opinion on
Ward's Degradation ; they hate giving- way to it, and yet it
bears its own solidity so genuinely upon it, that it wiU be a
most disgraceful thing for them to bring on the measure in
spite of it — and rush knowingly into an iUegal act. I am
clear for Arthur coming up, and voting against it ; after Keble
and Moberly and the rest have written against it, it should be
opposed by aU Churchmen. Besides, its illegality is quite a
good ground enough in itself.
The Board do not relax one iota from their imperturbable
self-conceit. AU the world is wrong about things, and they
are right. They are utterly incapable of understanding how
the " Declaration " could be construed into a Test. Our FeUow,

1 62 Letters of the
Hutton, who is a friend of Ogilvie's, quite unconsciously men
tions the " New Test " in a letter, not dreaming that it was not
one, and received quite an angry answer, to say, that whatever
way he voted, he should call things by their right names — it
was not a Test.
Of course in the private correspondence between Archdeacon
WUberforce and Mr. Gladstone, it is treated simply as a test,
and in aU letters of the period. The statute could have no other
use. The Test, under whatever name, was given np ; but the
No. XC. move grew beyond expectation.
The next letter is on the petition got up for the condemna
tion of No. XC. To his Sister. Ash Wednesday, 1845.
As you wUl have heard, the No. XC. move has mounted
up tremendously. I confess it was so very low and ungenerous
that I did not expect it; at the same time I was not, and
am not, surprised, now it has happened so ; one is surprised
at nothing. If the University chooses to accept the guid
ance of such men as G. and E. and F., it is welcome, and
much good may it do it. I cannot admire people's taste. It
is remarkable, however, that among the 476 names only very
few are resident, and The Globe acknowledges that it is bringing
down the country parsons and the clubs upon us. The Heb
domadal Board are now fairly taking their line in putting
themselves at the head of the non-residents, and determined to
quash us one way or another. It is certainly owing to the
Provost that the measure is passed ; be was exceedingly bitter,
and when men are bitter and strong, it becomes a matter of
personal courtesy at the Board not to disoblige them.
I should have thought that the Provost, having got them
into the scrape about the Test, would have impaired his influ
ence a httle. But a man who can talk is all-powerful.
We are sending down circulars with reasons against, and
talking of the haste and precipitation of the measure. The

Rev y. B. Mozley, D.D. 163
present is a regular case, in which want of principle gives a
party a positive advantage ; only an exceedingly vulgar animus
of a party could have brought itself to wake up a thing from
four years ago, and apropos to nothing, to censure a man who
has withdrawn from the University. Lord Ashley and the
Bishops of Llandaff and Chichester signed the petition.
I am glad to hear so good account of my father.
Newman wUl take it very easy ; but these things disgust
and affect him more than he shows. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
A few days later J. B. M. reports progress : —
To his Sister. Oxford, Saturday, 1845.
We are very active here, and have been sending out
circulars. I heard from Badeley yesterday; Judge Coleridge
was fierce against the thing, and was for the Proctors vetoing.
The Bishop of Exeter disapproved of it. Pusey beard from
Gladstone, who was exceedingly indignant, and seemed almost
to hint at some demonstration against it from himself.
Of course the thing wiU be carried unless the Proctors put
their veto, but a good minority wiU teU in such a gross case.
The Liberals were against it, many of them. Newman is of
course very easy, though he feels such demonstrations more
than he shows.
Eogers and Badeley are both writing, and I am engaged in
a brochure. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — You must console Mrs. Newman. Everybody who
has any heart feels most indignant at this business, which is a
consolation in its way.
This postscript refers to Mrs. E. Newman, an elderly lady,
aunt to Mr. Newman, who had settled in Derby to be near her
niece, Mrs. John Mozley, and who was greatly troubled by the
whole state of things relating to ber nephew, to whom she was
devotedly attached.

164 Letters of the
» To his Sister. Oxford, February 1845.
The decision in Convocation wiU have come to you before
you get this note: 777 — 386 on the first; 569 — 511 on the
second. Some of our side were disappointed, and there was a
general gloom thrown over us, for there really were strong
expectations that the Degradation would not be carried. I
never was sanguine enough to think so, and when I saw the
fuU Theatre the affair seemed settled. But, after aU, it was
a near-run thing. A majority of fifty is nothing on such a
question. The point is carried, and now a legal career is in
prospect. Ward's speech was clear and fluent. He has a
very good voice, and every word was heard.
The main hne was that aU parties in the Church did sub
scribe in a non-natural sense some parts or other of the Articles
and formularies. His tone was too conversational, and had not
effect enough. Mr. Blandy, however, was convinced by it, and
consequently voted for him on the first point, on which he had
not intended to vote at aU. Mr. F. Dyson was up, and voted
right. After aU, I really am astonished at the number of men,
and sort of men, who supported Ward after such avowals as he
made. It is reaUy a phenomenon to me. If he said once he
said twenty times in the course of his speech, "I believe all the
doctrines of the Eoman Church," and 511 members of Convoca
tion voted for him. Of course not half-a-dozen of these agree
with him, but some think that Convocation is not the proper
place to decide theological questions ; others that Eomanism is
not worse than heresy, and that Ward ought not to be degraded
when Hampden, and Whately, and a hundred others are let off.
StiU it is an extraordinary phenomenon to me that 511 should
have voted so. Of course, we had a great many Liberals on
our side, and all sorts of people on different grounds. But still
it is considered on the whole a Puseyite minority.
Things are in an odd state, but we must take things as we
find them. I heartily wish that Ward could have been gagged,
but if he does say things, and come out, he is a fact and part
of the state of things one has to cope with.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 165
[A friend recalling the occasion, at which he was present,
dweUs on the proceedings immediately following upon Ward's
speech — " The universal immense laughter with which it was
received was one of the historical laughs of the world. I
never remember anything like it."]
Gladstone came down on Wednesday night, and stayed with
Hope, of Merton. I saw him, and breakfasted and dined yes
terday with him at Hope's. He does not talk much. He is
obviously exceedingly disgusted at the state of things here, and
looked gloomy after the result of the Convocation, which he
thought, however, " very fair for a mob." There is something
very pleasing about him. Hope is a man one likes more the
more one sees him. Sir W. Heathcote, Manning, Hook, D.
Chandler, J. D. Coleridge, H. Wilberforce were the rest of the
party. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — GuUlemarde, the Senior Proctor, dehvered bis veto
with immense effect [this on the No. XC. question]. A shout
of Non was raised, and resounded through the whole buUding
and Placets from the other side, over which Guillemarde's
Nobis procuratoribus non placet was heard like a trumpet, and
cheered enormously. The Dean of Chichester threw himself
out of his Doctor's seat, and shook both Proctors violently by
the hand. The requisition has been renewed, as we expected.
I don't know any more yet.
The requisition was, of course, to request the Board to renew
the attack ; but the following letter, written two months later,
concludes the affair : — Oxford, 1845.
My dear Anne, — The matter about No. XC. was decided at
the Board yesterday without a division — in the negative. There
seemed to be no idea whatever of bringing it on again, and very
little was said. A committee was appointed to draw up an
answer to the requisitionists. The Proctors of last year thus
stand in a somewhat triumphant position, having beaten the
Hebdomadal Board. I suppose the answer to the requisitionists
will be as high and mighty as it can be worded, but the fact
remains. — Yours, J. B. M.

1 66 Letters of the
Immediately after the events of February 13, which have
been given, Mr. Ward astonished the world by taking The
Times into his confidence, in a matter generaUy regarded as of
an essentially private character.
J. B. M. TO A. M.
March, 1845.
Yon do not mention Ward's letter to The Times! It is
the general talk. I never read such a thing. The idea of a
man writing to a paper about bis marriage, and religious
reasons. So complimentary to the lady !
Of course this was a circumstance to elicit comment among
friends. One writes : " Ought be not to be ' poor Ward ' for the
future ?" going on to say, " I can't quite analyse bis last absurdity.
. . . Egoism seems the predominant feature. Conceive a preacher
of the saintly life expounding in The Times I . . . WiU not the
Heads accept it as a virtual recantation ? " One asks, " What
wiU Newman think of it?" Another answers J. B. M.'s
letter already given : " An astonishing measure certainly. But
I regard bim as a sort of Frankenstein — a person made differ
ently from other men ; just to teach us how badly people get
on who are guided, as they think, simply by reason ; despising
instincts, sympathies, and aU the nameless humanities that
make up a man." A letter from a friend to J. B. M., dated
August 17, 1845, contains the following postscript: —
"Ward and his wife have formaUy, through Macmullen,
announced their intention of joining Eome, giving a Ml month's
notice ' not to take people by surprise.' "
The year 1845 was with J. B. M. one of extraordinary fertility
and inteUectual activity. In the midst of the distractions of
public and private events be wrote five articles for the Christian
Remembrancer, four of which, "Eecent Proceedings at Oxford"
in the April number, "Blanco White" in July, "History of the
Eussian Church," October, and " The Eecent Schism," which

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 167
came out January 1846, made large demands on thought and
labour. This besides occasional pamphlets. Also this year The
Guardian was planned by a few friends like-minded, among
whom James Mozley was one prominent as writer and organiser.
The Laud article, appearing in January 1845, was recognised at
once as evidencing remarkable powers. Dr. Eouth writes to
him: — February 19, 1845.
My dear Mr. Mozley, — I have read with interest and much
admiration your development of the character of the great and
good Archbishop. Pope said, after perusing the anonymous
translation of the two satires of Juvenal, that the author would
soon be de terra. WiU you do me the favour of again accepting
the office of Examiner for the Lusby Scholarship ?— I remain
your obhged and faithful servant, M. J. Eouth.
The heading of the article "Eecent Proceedings in Oxford," in
the AprU Number, is a curious illustration of the ferment that
prevaUed, being a list of thirty -three pamphlets and letters for
and against the action of the Heads. The article towards its
close has a touching passage on the attack on Mr. Newman,
bearing out the feeling shown in the Private Correspondence.
What the feeling was under the pain and dread of impend
ing change in the threatened loss of Mr. Newman to the English
Church, the following letters show with telling force. My
brother's letter to Mr. Scott (joint editor of the Christian
Remembrancer) has been placed in my hand since Mr. Scott's
death. His answer comes in its place in the correspondence
of the year.
To the Eev. W. Scott.
Oxford, May lith, 1845.
My dear Scott, — . . . Now, to touch on a more serious
subject, you mention Newman and the Littlemore company.
I am afraid it is too true. Indeed, one can no longer speak in

1 68 Letters of the
the ambiguous tone at aU. It is actually to take place some
time or other. One must be prepared for it. I ought to have
written and talked about the subject with you before now; but
it has been such a painful one to me, that I have never been able
to do it, and even now it is a great effort to me to write about
it. I have known of the tendency so long myself, indeed, that
I hardly feel more acutely about it now than I did a year ago.
I have got used to the idea in a way. But it is something like
being used to being hanged. I hardly expect it to take place
this year, but I cannot look for a much longer respite.
I had a note from Newman a month ago, immediately after
the C. R. He wrote about my own article.1 It had touched
him much, he said. What he says of himself is, that he is
borne along by an irresistible course of mind in the direction
he is going — that he has withstood it, and yet it wiU take him.
I don't know that there is anything very new in this. It is
what most persons who go through religious changes describe
themselves as undergoing. But it is the ground he takes ; he
cannot help the working of his own mind.
So now he has come to a point where I cannot follow him.
It is a pain, indeed, to be in a church without him. But I can
not help that. No one, of course, can prophesy the course of
his own mind ; but I feel at present that I could no more leave
the English Church than fly. What the upshot of this is to be
we have yet to see. We are in a struggle. One's spiritual
home is a stormy and unsettled one ; but stiU it is one's home.
At least it is mine. — Yours very truly, J. B. Mozley.
To this letter Mr. Scott replied at once. It shows how deep
a current of feeling flowed under a tone and manner charac
terised by an airy, half cynical humour. May 11th, 1845.
My dear Mozley, — . . . The mention of C. takes me
(though, in truth, there is no taking, for my heart is always
there) to J. H. N. Of course, in a way, one had for some time
attempted to realise what must be, but it is just the same as
1 " Recent Proceedings in Oxford."

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 169
attempting to realise losing wife or child. I for one have
always, in my measure, leant upon Newman, — though I am
scarcely acquainted with him — lived upon bim, made bim my
other and better nature ; so the crash is to me most overpower
ing. I dare not criticise any action of his ; he is in gifts and
acquirements and in aU ways so infinitely above me that I can
not argue about the matter, only feel, and this of course selfishly.
I cannot follow him. I have no caUs that way. I cannot
think that we are even what we are without God's especial pro
vidence, and this that we may be the better, not by individual
but by corporate action and expansion. . . . Ever yours most
truly, William Scott.
In acknowledging a home notice of the Blanco White article
in the July number of the Christian Remembrancer, James
writes : —
. . . One's great feeling in reading through Blanco White
was the singular antagonism in which his mind was to the
doctrine of the Incarnation. All that part, by the way [criti
cising his own article], is somewhat clumsy, and if I had to
write it over again, I would put it differently. I did not enter
into what was Blanco White's religion enough. When I have
written an article, and it is all printed, I feel like a school
boy who has sent up an exercise with all sorts of mistakes in
it, and cannot help himself : I mean with respect to arrange
ment and elucidation. You have exactly hit on the very parts
that I meant to be the characterising ones as to B. W., which
is satisfactory to me.
The President has had an odd accident — been bitten by a
madman. His gardener at Tylehurst got into this state, and
was secured in the arms of two men. The President went to
him, to talk to him and soothe him, when the man, with a pro
digious effort, meaning to embrace him affectionately, sprang
out of his keepers' arms, and clasped the President to his breast,
biting a great piece out of the back of his hand at the same
time. The President has just been giving me an account of it,
laughing enormously the whole of the time. The hand is going
on weU. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.

1 70 Letters of the
On the 4th August of this year (1845), we lost our dear
father, whose health had been for some time the cause of
anxiety ; every letter on either side conveying inquiries or re
ports, but the end came suddenly. For some time there is a
blank of letters, James remaining at home with bis mother
and sisters. The first that occurs is the foUowing to his
sister, headed " Private : " — October, 1845.
You wUl very likely have heard from Jemima that J. H. N.'s
secession has actuaUy taken place. I saw a letter or note of
his to Keble, written just before he was going to be admitted.
It said he was going to enter " the only fold of the Eedeemer,
the Church of St. Athanasius." Keble thought there was some
excitement in the tone of his note, and was afraid for his state
of mind afterwards. I only hope that the event having taken
place, a good deal of what constitutes the anxiety and melan
choly of the event, the uncertainty and expectation of some
thing perpetually moving over one's head — that this part of
the matter being at any rate over, we are relieved of something,
though the fact is a bitter one. It is perhaps, on the whole,
more comfortable to one's mind for a thing to have taken place
than to be continually dreading it. J. B. M.
Writing from Winchester soon after, he teUs his sister : —
" I spent a good part of the morning with Keble yesterday
. . . Keble was in better spirits than I expected, and able to
talk. Of course, you may conjecture the subject. He seemed
very firm about the duty of remaining in our Church, and did
not seem cast down, though exceedingly wounded by the recent
events. Miss Keble is staying with him. I was much struck
with her appearance. She has quite Keble's quick bright eye
in the palest, most suffering face I ever saw."
It was on this occasion, no doubt, that J. B. M. consulted
Mr. Keble on a plan for a devotional work he had then at heart,
and which is discussed in the foUowing thoughtful letter : —

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 171
Eev. J. Keble to J. B. M.
H. V, November 4, 1845.
My dear Mr. Mozley, — Excuse my not having written
sooner. I have been very idle, and fancied myself very busy.
Such a book as you speak of is surely wanted ; and to have
it well done is exceedingly important. I suppose any one who
entered on it, with the notion of compihng, ought to have his
mind well impressed with this notion also, that mere compiling
is a very duU thing ; the passages one transcribes for such a
purpose as this should flow from one's pen as naturally as if
they were one's own. And this, I suppose, is one part of the
secret of those E. C. compUations which you speak of. The
several passages had been so meditated on and mixed up with
the compiler's thoughts, that he could scarce distinguish the
one from the other. And this seems to make a great difficulty
in finding a proper person to do the work. It should be some
one famihar, in the way I have now said, with onr Andreweses,
WUsons, Taylors, Kens, etc., and also able to supply and
connect where his text faUed, in the same sort of way as
Aquinas in the Aurea Catena, so as that the difference of
material and workmanship should not be observable. On the
whole, I think it almost more probable that a person may be
found to do the thing well,, originally, than such a compiler as
I now speak of. Would it be a good plan to speak to two or
three persons, to try what they could do for a certain time,
either in the way of writing or compiling ? If a certain
number of earnest, thoughtful minds were employed thus for
one twelvemonth, I can imagine a very good book or books
resulting. It would be well, perhaps, to choose persons of
different tones of thought and habits of life. But one essential
requisite is that there should be no hurrying, nor any sensation
of writing for a bookseUer, or against time, or to counteract
Borne, or to meet a call, or anything but pure desire to edify
one's-self and others — love of the subject and of the work. I
don't, of course, mean that we must wait till such purity of
motive is to be found, but I do mean that in proportion as it is
wanting, the book (I should fear) would fail. If anything else
occurs worth writing I will write again.

172 Letters of the
I am anxious to know about the Leeds movement ; more so
from something I have heard this evening, as though things
had fallen out rather to Pusey's discouragement. — Ever yours
affectionately, J. Keble.
To his Sister. Oxford, November 14, 1845.
The great event of the term has been the consecration of
the church at Leeds. Pusey seems to be quite satisfied and
impressed with the way in which it went off, and the good feel
ing and unanimity among the clergy assembled. Hook was
exceedingly hearty, though very nervous beforehand, and
apprehensive. He had a declaration against Popery ready to
take off the effect of the meeting in that direction, but he gave
it up. He was so exceedingly pleased when it was aU over,
and had passed off well, that his wife thought something was
the matter with him ; but it turned out to be simply joy and
satisfaction. The Bishop, too, was dreadfuUy nervous, and, in
fact, one would suppose Pusey was a hon, or some beast of
prey, people seem to have been so afraid of him. The Bishop
was afraid of being entrapped into anything, and objected to
this and that. Among the rest, he saw on one of the doors the
sentence — " Pray for the sinner who built this church," and
required evidence that the sinner was alive before he conse
crated. What was the greatest pity was, the sacramental plate
did not appear at the consecration. There was an inscription
on it that imphed a prayer for the dead. It was, in fact, the
gift of Lucy Pusey, and her name was, I beheve, inscribed upon
it. The Bishop says he will allow anything that the law allows ;
and I believe there is nothing against the law in this inscrip
tion. The point is not determined.
These little differences went on behind, and not in public,
and Pusey was not annoyed, and took them very weU. He and
Hook seem to have been very cordial together. Henry Wilber
force, who was there, says he never saw Pusey come out so
before. By the way, he does not preach this term, his turn
not coming on tiU next February. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 173
The last letter of this eventful year shows what new and
strange duties were devolving upon bim : —
J. B. M. to his Sister.
Clays, December 30, 1845.
I am working here at C. R. work — just seeing through the
press the most disagreeable article I have ever had to write —
one, namely, on Newman's secession.1 It was absolutely neces
sary to notice the fact, and it fell to me to do it. I could not
help myself. The article wiU, perhaps, have a decisiveness of
tone to many ears, which (as being a new kind of tone to use
in any sort of connection with Newman) will annoy some
people. I expect it wUl, but the fact is not to be avoided that
a new relation is begun between Newman and the English
Church, and somebody must be the person to express that new
relation. I have had the office, and a most disagreeable one it
has been, as I say. But I feel strongly that, staying in the
English Church, as I do, I stay to support her, and not to give
her up, or stand loosely by ber. There would be no excuse for
staying on this latter ground, after this secession. The tone,
however, of the article I have carefuUy guarded against being
anything more decisive, nor do I think that N. can possibly
complain of the view I take of him. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
The article thus announced is read eagerly at home, and
reassuring comments are sent. Mrs. John Mozley, reading and
talking it over with his sisters, writes to J. B. M. : —
" I do feel so much obliged to you for the manner in which
you have fulfilled your difficult and painful task. I had quite
dreaded to see the case cooUy discussed in print. Yet I felt,
both from kindness and abUity, you were the person to under
take it. . . . However, in some respects, J. H. N. would not agree
with your view, I am sure he would estimate and feel grateful
1 To this labour he had been impelled by his fellow-editor, Mr. Scott,
who, writing on November 8, underscores the following words : — " It is
expected of us to take a line about Newman, and we cannot avoid it. ''

1 74 Letters of the
for the kindness and appreciation of his mind and powers,
which the opening especially of your article shows. You must
also allow me to express how much I admire and sympathise
with the warm-hearted manner in which yon stand forward as
a champion of our poor assailed Church. It seems a shameful
thing to have to assert even her very existence, and how pain
ful to see people speak with only half a heart."
My sister Maria, staying then at Cholderton, delivers a
message from Mrs. Thomas Mozley : —
" Harriet likes your article very much, and admires you in it —
but she says there was a time before you knew him (J. H. N.)
when he had a thorough attachment to our Church that you
do not give him credit for ; feeling himself completely in our
Church. She mentions particularly a course of sermons on the
Liturgy, preached, I think, about '29, which she hked exceed
ingly, and always entreated him to publish, but he never did."
To his Sister. January 16, 1846.
I have never thanked you and Jemima for your letters, which
were very satisfactory to me. It was, of course, an anxious
article to write, and one is very much relieved by hearing such
opinions of it. I had a note from Wilson of Ampfield the other
day, who teUs me Keble is quite satisfied, which is a great
comfort. He says " N. ought not to be hurt by it."
The following relates to Dr. Pusey's preparing to take his
turn, after his two years' suspension : —
You see there is a dead-set made on Pusey by Golightly.
The Heads are taking G.'s letters into consideration. I hardly
think they will proceed to action, however, upon it. There is no
tangible ground in the letter of Pusey in the English Churchman,
and though they talk of a statute which requires a preacher to
be approbatus by the Vice-Chancellor, it is very doubtful whether
Pusey comes under it ; because he preaches on a special statute,
which commands all Heads of Houses, Canons of Ch. Ch., and

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 175
Eegius Professors to preach in the course of the year. Any
how it would be a consummate act of despotism which would be
simply claiming the pulpit all the year round for the V.-C.'s
own friends. Pusey is now at Brighton writing his sermon,
very carefully. He intends to avoid giving any handle, if he
possibly can. He is afraid it will be very long. I think that
may be considered pretty certain; but nobody can complain
after a two years' suspension. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Oxford, Epiphany, 1846.
My dear C, — I read your article ["Brittany," Christian
Remembrancer, January 1846], in the train, coming down. You
have certainly managed to create a distinct image of Brittany.
It is quite a whole. One has the idea that no other district in
the world would have furnished that precise picture but
Brittany. Also that view of Faith has so much in it, that you
ought to make more of it, sometime or other. I could fancy
it working up into something. The same of " the view of the
powers which God's wisdom has in these last days placed in
the hands of man." They are views which seem to explain
our present state of things — the former, as showing that
mediaeval faith was not so much better than ours, as in one
aspect it seems ; the latter, as showing that our want of that
aboriginal genuine faith has something to say in its defence
and can point to a new dispensation of things which in some
measure justifies or explains it. — Yours, J. B. M.
To his Sister Maria.
Oxford, February 1, 1846.
My dear Maria, — I have just come from Pusey's sermon.
It was very grand, intense, and impressive — and went on with
a great swing, as Pusey's sermons do. After nearly three
years' silence, it was strange hearing his voice again. I should
think the greater part of the audience had never beard him
before. There was perfect stillness, and the mass was as dense
as it could be. The procession of Heads was obliged to cut

176 Letters of the
straight from the transept to their seats, instead of going all
round, and down the middle aisle, as they usually do. There
was nothing in the sermon to lay hold of, that I could see.
The subject was Confession and the Power of the Keys. He
had such a huge weight of Church authority with bim, that
he seemed to occupy the whole ground and possess the buUding
for himself. He seemed to turn the vast tide of clamour, which
has been trying to disconnect us from the Church so long, upon
the other side. This in effect I only mean.
The sermon itself was simply practical, and put forward the
plain statement in our formularies, and worked them out. The
few I have seen since all think there is nothing to lay hold of.
But that it will create great disgust I have no doubt. The
only part I can fancy as being fastened on is where be spoke
of College Tutors as men who might enter into more spiritual
relations with those under them. He guarded himself, how
ever, from any immediate, sudden application of what he
said, and talked about time and waiting. I saw him just after
the sermon ; be was in very good spirits. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
P.S. — The sermon will come out immediately.
To his Sister.
February 9, 1846.
Pusey's sermon is not out yet. It is encasing itself, as most
of his do, with notes, and making a regular fortification. What
is said of it in high quarters here, is that " it is much to be
lamented, but not to be complained of." Pusey is in high
spirits — good spirits rather; and I think a little feeling of
satisfaction at having sUenced his sUencers so effectuaUy, might
a little mingle with his feelings. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
In January of this year The Guardian was launched into
the world. To his Sister. Oxford, April 4, 1846.
... I mentioned The Guardian in my note, I think. It gains
notice in good quarters, and that is aU I can say. Professor Owen

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 177
(a well-known man in the scientific world) was much struck
with the review on The Natural History of the Vestiges of
the Creation. Acland is very vigorous about it. But there
wants the regular machinery for circulation. Then it does not
appeal to any one class as other things do. Then people are
so very touchy and peppery about a new paper, and think it a
function of themselves, which the longer it goes on it gets the
less to be.
There is an article in the Dublin Review in answer, in a
great measure, to mine in the C. R. of last January. Its line
is not an able one, which is rather to dissociate J. H. N.'s
influence in the late move, and make it out to have been
a coincidence in a number of minds equally at the same time.
It would have been abler to have said Newman was the mover
— and he was a providential one — as a line of argument. —
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Oxford, May 12, 1846.
Dear Anne, — ... I stayed in London till Saturday after
noon. I was unlucky in missing Dr. MiU, whom I called on
at Lambeth. I had a long talk with Mr. Mathison at the
Mint on the subject of education. He says the report is, the
League, having succeeded in their Corn-Law movement, are
going to commence an Educational one, and he was going to
attend a meeting of the National Society, which had been
summoned in the alarm of the report. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
J. B. M. to his Sister. Oxford, May 20, 1846.
On Saturday I went down to East Farleigh, partly on pleasure,
partly on business, to try to persuade H. W. to write an article
I wanted written for the Christian Remembrancer. He was in
London, and did not come tiU after my arrival. His mother
was the only one in the house when I came. My ring at the
door she supposed, of course, to be ber son's ; then, when I had
sufficiently made it appear otherwise, another ring ; and neither
was this her son, but Mr. Spooner, the member for Birmingham,
M

1 78 Letters of the
her brother-in-law, also an unexpected arrival. I felt I was
going to appear awkward at finding myself interrupting their
tete-d-tete, but found I had not much reason for it. For any one
connected with the Wilberforces is used to interruptions and
juxtapositions of all kinds. Mr. Spooner is a good-natured,
violent Protestant — a mixture of an Evangelical and John Bull,
very active, very talkative, and apparently exceedingly fond of
business. He talked with great gusto of the committees at
which he has to work incessantly, and enjoys it. He railed
furiously at the whole House, declaring any 600 men in the
streets were to be preferred to the present Parhament. On
the whole, however, he enjoys bis position. He is a strong
Protectionist, but on some crotchety currency principle. All
Sunday religious arguments were going on with good-natured
vehemence between him and bis nephew, who, by the way, I
should say, came late on Saturday night with bis Johnny, who
had been sick on the way, after three days' dissipation in London,
and was put to bed and slept eighteen hours, namely, till about
five the next afternoon. Old Mrs. Wilberforce (Mrs. H. W. was
in London) has to keep the old ground and the new one ;— her
husband's and her sons', — and harmonise them ; which she does
certainly very well. She is such an exceedingly mild, humble,
pleasing old lady. I have met few like her. She was shocked
at her brother preferring Unitarians to Eoman Catholics. H. W,
says she protests against him sometimes in private, and always
takes his part openly. — Yours, J. B. M.
Oxford, July 1846.
My dear Anne,— . . . The fate of The Guardian is, I am
afraid, sealed. The circulation keeps obstinately stationary,
and B. has given his decided opinion that, after notice given, it
must be dropped. I have a curious mixture of feelings on the
subject, partly of humiliation at having to confess a most com
plete failure, and partly of rehef that no more writing will be
required for it. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
The announcement that The Guardian must be discontinued
for want of support excited warm remonstrances in certain

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 179
quarters, where the need of a Church newspaper, and the satis
factory manner in which The Guardian promised to supply
that need, was strongly felt. There survives a packet of letters
from Churchmen of high name and credit, pressing its con
tinuance. Amongst these letters are two of very urgent and
friendly appeal from the present Bishop of Lincoln. Soon
after J. B. M. reports : —
The Guardian, it has been resolved, is to go on, to complete
its year of trial ; but not till after much consultation and
doubt. I think, on the whole, it is best it should, as it would
have shown pusillanimity to give up before.
A turn of fortune, however, soon came. A friend and con
tributor writes to J. B. M. : — October 23, 1846.
Sharpe and E. too are in great force about the G. At last
we have got quoted in a morning paper, Daily News, by help of
Le Verrier's letter. We may be caught out in some floor, but if
we are not, I shaU be very proud of the planet all my life long.
[If the writer of the letter is also the writer of the article in
question, it may be said that he is not subject to "floors."]
A little book had been sent J. B. M., in which was the nar
rative of Gertrude Von der Wart : — November 6, 1846.
My dear Anne, — . . , . Gertrude Von der Wart is quite
unique. I never read anything more beautiful. You have
sometimes said you want to have an idea of what Homer reaUy
is. Now that is very like Homer, of course mutatis mutandis.
There is the same sort of pure pathos, so very pungent, because
so very truthful. I certainly get more and more to think that
imagination is quite an inferior part of poetry. And Homer
pleases because he exists altogether in a higher region than
that of imagination — in that of absolute truth, the fact itself of
high and pure feeling.

180 Letters of the
There has been a grand centenary at Ch. Ch., but dreadfully
mismanaged, they say : the Dean not caring at all about it,
and not letting those who did, manage it ; so that hardly any
body has been asked. Sir E. Inglis came down, and I believe
Gladstone. — Yours affectionately, J- B. M.
The year 1846 brings round, at precisely the same season,
notice of another painful task completed : a task such as befell
J. B. M. in 1845. Temple, December 30, 1846.
My dear Anne, — The C. R. will explain, when it comes
out, why I have not been very communicative lately. You
wUl see there is an article of prodigious length on a subject
which it was absolutely necessary to notice, i.e. Newman's book.
It is odd that such a task should have devolved upon me.
There is a sort of fatality in these things; and Oriel seems
destined to produce disagreement among friends. But so it is.
The book must be noticed, and there was no one to do it but
myself. Not that I have any delicacy on the subject, for
J. H. N. has of course begun the difference, and that being the
case, it is simply a fact that one is opposed to him; and
whether one is silent or speaks it is all the same really. , It
has been most unpleasant work, however, not only on this
account but from the argumentative style of writing one has to
take up — most difficult and most dry. The thing has been
hanging over me now for a year, and there is a relief that it is
over. Not that the controversy itself is over, for controversy
is in its own nature endless. But one may look about one a
good deal before one has another call to enter the lists. . . .
— Yours affectionately, J. B. M
Such things cannot be helped; must be done; somebody
must do them ; and the line of thought was James Mozley's
line : but such long task- work of antagonism towards a dear
and most true friend leaves effects to be sighed over— effects
which those escape on whom the ungrateful task does not fall,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 181
To his Sister. ;
January 9, 1847.
My dear Anne, — I want to tell you how much pleased I
am with my Stowlangtoft visit. Mr. and Mrs. Eickards are
certainly a pair such as one does not often see — quite com
plete and perfect ; such cheerfulness, simplicity, and cleverness,
all going together, are quite a remarkable mixture. I had never
seen Mr. E. before to have any continued conversation with him.
He struck me much from the quantity of information be has,
and his sharp neat way of always expressing what he wants,
and bringing things to a point. The way in which he ques
tioned me too, and got information himself (not much from
me), was just the same. He puts just the right questions,
and such as, if answered, would give him the best view of what
he is asking about. Mrs. B.'s perpetual flow of spirits and
benevolence is quite charming. I am glad I have been there
. . . Maria will have told you about our doings and visitings. —
Yours, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Oxford, February 9, 1847.
My dear Anne, — . . . I called on Pusey, who is looking
tolerably cheerful after all his reverses lately. He is about
a commentary on the minor prophets; part of a general
commentary on the whole Bible, which is now thought of, not
aU from the same person, but one taking one part, another
another. Pusey intends to make it a popular commentary, and
to give the sense of the Fathers without references or (generally)
extracts. Whether he will keep to his intention when it comes
to, is perhaps doubtful, he is so fond of the quoting system.
He says a new commentary is the proper way of meeting the
Eationalists. Mr. Hayes called on me the other day. He is a military-
looking man, very simple, and hard in look and speech, but a
man of respectable feeling, and well-disposed. He has been
magistrate in India, and hved in stations where he was quite
out of the reach of Europeans, who are a mere handful in India,

1 82 Letters of the
and the great mass of the native population hving by them
selves, and with their religion and customs in full play, and
nothing to disturb them. I asked bim about Conversion ; he
said the great mass were absolutely untouched. The Europeans
had not in fact come in contact with them. . . I asked him
about the influence of the old superstitions on the Hindoo popu
lation as a whole, saying that I bad understood it was less than
it had been, and that the Brahmans were getting Liberal. He
contradicted this, speaking from his own experience, and
described the perfect immovabUity of a Bengalee Priest rather
well, so soft and silky a person, that everything would melt
like butter in his mouth, but you might as well try to shake
a mountain as to persuade bim. . . .
Sir Eobert Inglis has written to the Heads of Houses, noti
fying on the part of the Government that they are going to look
into the Universities. . . . Yours, J. B. M.
To his Sister. May 20, 1847.
. I was in London yesterday on electioneering business,
and Gladstone's committee seem to be in tolerable spirits. I
did not see any of the great men, but only my own friends,
the committee itself ; the whole side are as odd a mixture as
you can conceive. London Puseyites, who atone for their reli
gion by their rank, mixing with Tyler, Hume Spry, Saunders
of the Charterhouse, Hallam (the Whig historian), etc., and
appended to this an Oxford committee of barefaced Puseyites,
whom nobody in Oxford but themselves will join. May 30.
The electioneering excitement has gone down a good deal. I
have very little to do with the details of it, and do not know
what the state of votes on our side is. I believe Gladstone is
anxious to come in ; and his dignity has so far given way that
he goes about speechifying now at different places. — Yours,
J. B. M.
P.S. — Whoever wants the book on painting [Buskin's] to
receive due notice, must write a review of it himself. I have

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 183
got the experience by my C. R. labours, that nobody will write
on a subject of another person's suggestion.
The following history of the Gladstone Election was written
to his friend then abroad : — Oxford, August 6, 1847.
My dear Church, — You will have seen by the English
papers the termination of our contest. We are of course
elevated on the occasion. On meeting Michell to-day in the
streets I was patronising and concUiatory ; assured bim that
he would not regret the choice the University had made. It
is rather curious that I do not think at any one time through
out the affair, which has now been going for three months and
more, have the expectations of our side been equal to what they
rationally might have been. The imagination was so strongly
affected the other way. It was considered at first a sort of Trac-
tarian puerility by many, our bringing forward Gladstone at aU,
so Utopian did the chance of his success appear. Wall of
Balliol was on CardweU'3 committee. He laughed at the idea
of Gladstone, and talked of 400 votes — more by the way, they
say by 150, than CardweU got. The most liberal set us at 600.
Altogether a sort of stupor prevailed on the subject, in the midst
of which, however, a most capital London committee was formed
and began to work ; Tyler being one of the first to join. Eogers
described the melancholy meeting of three or four Gladstonians
the first day or two, where they sat expecting. At last Tyler
came — advenisti 0 desiderabilis ! They felt as if they had
caught the very largest salmon with melted butter, lobster sauce
and aU. Then Hume Spry, then Archdeacon Hale. I am tell
ing you, I fear, what people have told you before, in all this.
However, the London committee, which was out on the Satur
day after the Tuesday of the first communication of Estcourt's
retirement, was a great gain, and made an impression. I could
see it producing an effect.
One . of the most remarkable things was Gladstone con
senting so immediately to be brought forward. The people in
London had almost come to the resolution that be was an impos
sible card — i.e. too strong, I mean, in a party point of view for

184 Letters of the
success. And they had sent down Bernard with Sir William
Heathcote's name, to look about. In the meantime a carrier from
us here — i.e. H. J. Coleridge, crossed Bernard on the road with
Gladstone's name. Coleridge, as soon as he had arrived in town,
beard of Bernard's mission with Heathcote's name, and was
giving Gladstone up. But Hawkins and his father told bim to go
to Eogers. He went. E. sent him to Northcote. Northcote had
an hour's conversation with Gladstone, at the end of which G.
was a declared candidate. So the next day, Wednesday, we had
a meeting here — i.e. in Magdalen — Gladstone's being the name.
Sewell tried to extinguish us with a speech, and threatened
his fiercest opposition. But nevertheless we kept to our man.
I must confess to have felt some most uncomfortable qualms
throughout the first outset of the contest. To have to choose
between two men like G. and Sir W. H, gave a most uncomfor
table responsibility. And one heard on all sides, Oh ! we should
have no objection to Sir William Heathcote. In fact his name
was mentioned actually at the first meeting at Ogilvie's, who
ultimately chose Bound ; so apparently certain we should have
been of him, bad we fixed on him. Of course it would have been
a different thing altogether from having Gladstone; but he
would have been a very good man. Let us hope for him one
day as Gladstone's colleague.
Yon should hear Johnson ; he says it is " the perfection of
beauty." First, we have bowled out eleven Heads of Houses
and Cardwell. Secondly, we have bowled them all out again,
and Bound. And thirdly — which is a spice for the simply
malignant to relish — Bound himself has lost his seat in Essex
in consequence.
The Provost has behaved very characteristically. He has
been for once in his life fairly perplexed ; and he has doubled
and doubled again, and shifted, and crept into holes ; at last
vanished up some dark crevice, and nothing was seen but his
tail. One thought one was to see no more of him, when, on
one of the polling mornings, he suddenly emerged, like a rat
out of a haystack, and voted for Bound. The Heads, in fact,
have been thoroughly inefficient. The election has literally
gone on without them. They have done nothing. Apparently

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 185
they were sufficiently afraid of Gladstone's success not to like
the ehance of meeting him afterwards as declared opponents :
and they could not bring themselves to vote for him, so they
have been mere individual Eoundites. One has hardly felt
their existence throughout the contest. What do you think of
Woolcombe of Balliol actually canvassing the Provost for
Gladstone at the commencement ! I should as soon have
thought of engaging with a lion. Nevertheless, the Provost was
most courteous. W. said we did not wish to make a religious
Contest. " Yes," said the Provost, " but Mr. Gladstone cannot
help having his religious views." Then Woolcombe asked bim,
Whether he considered our position at all a factious one — a
committee of M.A.s bringing forward their own man without
any connection with the Heads ? " Oh, no — not the least ; it
would be quite ridiculous to think so."
It is quite amusing to see how the contest has brought out
some men : H. Coleridge, for example. He has been most
useful throughout, and shown himself quite knowing. Then
H. Harris has done a great deal among our young Magdalen
men, and has quite surprised ns all as a canvasser. Wool
combe of Balliol has been great too. Arthur Haddan is an old
canvasser, and his experience in the Williams and Garbett case
gave him a name. But he has kept up his reputation most
decidedly. The astonishing perseverance with which he probed
the terra incognita of names in the University Calendar was
wonderful. There were only 600 at last of which he could
give no account at all. I begin to doubt whether they exist
myself. If they did, Haddan would certainly have got at them.
Greswell was most characteristic, only bis zeal was a too
sanguine one. He was obUged to be kept in ignorance, as far
as was possible, of the number of votes, and everything,
because he went and boasted so immensely. As soon as we
had got 800 votes he thought the contest over.
What a strange affair this is of the Nottingham election !
John Walter was elected the day or two after his father's death,
quite without his knowledge. The first intimation he had of
it was in the report from the Nottingham Reporter, which came
for insertion in The Times. It seems that the old gentleman's

1 86 Letters of the
death produced a sudden sensation, and that out of gratitude
they instantly resolved to elect his son. J. W. and H. W.
were both here voting, though within two or three days of
their father's death. The public-duty view prevailed. When
shall we see you again ? I send this by your brother. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
W. E. Gladstone, M.P., to J. B. M.
August 6, 1848.
My dear Mr. Mozley, — Your letter gives me peculiar
pleasure by the announcement it contains that you beheve
many who voted against me in the recent contest are by no
means broken-hearted at the issue. But I hope, in the anxiety
to soften or remove adverse prepossession from the minds of
any of those who are now become my constituents, I shall not
lose sight of that deeper debt which I owe to my supporters,
and especially, let me add, to my Oxford supporters, on
account of the circumstance that there has hitherto been so
little of personal acquaintance between them and the man to
whom they have given their generous confidence, and their
energetic and triumphant exertions. I am, believe me, truly
thankful : the more thankful, I hope, from all that I know of
myself, and of my own shortcomings, and of the tendency of
my mind to make, some at least, of those shortcomings pal
pable in my public conduct ; and from the high, the very high,
conception which I entertain of the duties which should be
rendered to Oxford by her representative. I am divided
between the keenest pleasure upon finding myself so definitely
and closely related to the University which I love with my
whole heart, and the misgivings which, after having reflected
a little on what I ought to be or to do, I turn to think of what
I am. Of all the years of all the centuries which have
made up her honoured existence, perhaps these now before us
are the most critical — certainly they are among the most
critical. I would that her interests were in stronger and in
purer hands ; God grant in His mercy that I may attain, after
my election, to the gifts which I ought to have had before it.
I rely most upon your assurance, which I am confident is more

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 187
than verbal, that my weakness will not be forgotten in the
prayers of those who bear affection to Oxford.
My hope is to be always there mentally, but much also
bodily, and I have written to Mr. Greswell to ask how long a
visit he thinks I may decently pay at the commencement of
the October Term. So I wiU trouble you no longer. — Believe
me, always very sincerely yours, W. E. Gladstone.
Eev. J. B. Mozley.
In the course of the next term the proposed visit was paid,
and J. B. M. writes of the occasion to his sister : —
Oxford, 1847.
Gladstone has been here this week. I met him on Monday
at GresweU's. He did his part very well, but had to make a
speech, which was somewhat gloomy in its forebodings. He
talked of changes, and movements in a way not gratifying to
established institutions ; and the difficulties in which men in
Parliament would be placed.
•The fun of the evening was a speech of GresweU's, who
congratulated us on our luck in winning the election ; it was a
series of the most lucky chances which had got it. He en
larged upon luck and chance to such a degree, as wholly to
supersede the merits of the candidate himself as any part of
the cause. And he went on so perfectly unconscious of this
aspect of his speech, that, one by one, at last all the table were
loudly tittering, which rose at last into unmistakable laughter
— Gladstone, who had kept his countenance with the utmost
rigidity for a long time, at last being forced to give way.
In November of this year Oxford was again thrown into
commotion by Dr. Hampden's appointment to the See of
Hereford. This is not a time or place in which to discuss the
merits of the question, but a few letters may be given which
throw light on the feeling and thought of the period.
To his Sister. Oxford, December 3, 1847.
My dear Anne, — . . . Thirteen bishops of the province of

i 8 8 L e tiers of the
Canterbury have signed a private memorial to Lord J. Eussell
against Hampden's appointment. This is a strong step. The
opposition seems increasing too in the country.
I dined at the Bishop of Oxford's, at Cuddesden, on
Monday. ... I must say I was more pleased with the Bishop
than I expected, for I rather dreaded coming into contact with
him. There was less artificialness about bim than I expected.
A love of the humorous is a great leveller, and he can no more
resist telling a good story, even though it a little compromises
his dignity, than a dog can pass a tit-bone. He is exceedingly
strong about this Hampden business, and thought it a subject
on which the whole Church ought to make demonstrations. I
am rather amused at the touchiness of the Bishops, now that
there is a chance of their having Hampden on the same bench
with them. They have very little respected our touchiness in
Oxford on the subject, and have made men attend his lectures ;
¦ — a circumstance with which Lord John will twit them, I
doubt not. However, I am glad to see their orthodoxy — better
late than never. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.

Among letters and papers treating of the great Hampden
question is one from Mr. Golightly to Dr. Ogle, with a message
to J. B. M., " who cuts me now:" — of course on account of his
recent denunciation of his brother in The Standard. It has
something the air of an olive branch, and probably was received
accordingly : —
" As Dr. Hampden's friends are making a vigorous attempt
to persuade the public that the opposition to his nomination
proceeds from only one party in the Church, could you take an
opportunity of informing him [J. B. M.] that Vaughan Thomas,
Lancaster, Trower, and myself, all members of Mr. Bound's
committee, have protested in some way or other. For myself,
if my name can be of any use, I fully authorise the mention
of it in The Times, Guardian, English Churchman, or any other
periodical or paper."

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 189
A letter to J. B. M. from Mr. Charles Marriott — the most
single-minded of men — throws a kindly light on the Bishop of
Oxford's change of tone : — Bradfield, St. Stephen's, 1847.
My dear Mozley, — I have thought more about your letter
on the connection of the Bampton Lectures and Obs. on Rel.
Dissent, and am convinced that, though valid pleading, it is
not reaUy conclusive to the full.
The Bampton Lectures show so much confusion of thought,
that their author is certainly capable of thinking for a time
that a given view involves what it really does not. And so he
might, in writing the Observations, think for the time that the
principles of his B. L. must involve so much, and cease to
think so afterwards. What he says of their being the same is
his own opinion at a given time, but we know how much
weight to attach to it.
I think, therefore, that if the Bishop clenches that with
drawal publicly, and expresses publicly his disapproval of
the language of the B. L, while he allows the author to put an
orthodox interpretation on it even at a little strain, and passes
him under that interpretation, it is our business to acquiesce
in his decision.
If the Bishop of Exeter presses for a more formal tribunal, I
blame no one who co-operates with him, but I would ahow
the Bishop of Oxford's decision, though not exactly to my
mind, to supersede my own opinion. I wish you to notice that
in the passage on the Unity of God, Hampden caUs this Unity
a, fact, thus admitting such a sense of the term. Don't try to
set this aside, for you ought not. I have had a painful sense
all these years, whenever I thought of Hampden, of his having
been really misapprehended and misrepresented, though I still
think, as I did from the first, that there was just ground for
stronger acts than have been taken against him. I must say
that my last conversation with the Bishop and subsequent
consideration, have modified my opinion of Hampden's honesty.
I used to doubt it much more than I do now. Pray excuse
this rigmarole, and try to put as much eirteiiceia into the

190 Letters of the
business as your dogmatic conscience will let you. Such a
tiresome fellow is apt to put one's moral conscience to sleep. —
Ever yours affectionately, C. Marriott.
A further reading of the lectures does not bring J. B. M.
round to these opinions, but he recognises that much rests in
tone : —
It is as clear as day what the theological system in them is,
at the same time there would be great difficulty in proving it
in a Court, especially such a prejudiced Court as Sir Herbert
Jenner would make. You have a few passages where the
system comes out strongly and decidedly, but these are very
few, the rest lies in tone. For example he [Hampden] uses the
words "heterodox" and "orthodox" throughout the lectures
obviously with the most perfect impartiality between the two,
thinking both equally wrong as being dogmatisers. I suppose
no Court would take cognisance of tone. . . . Then the ques
tion would come to this, whether the few passages where the
system does come out would be allowed to have their real
weight assigned them as interpreting the rest.
The following letter relates to the confirmation at Bow
Church, previous to the consecration of the Bishop-elect : —
To his Sister. January 22, 1848.
I went up to London for a day the beginning of this week.
Cornish (of Littlemore), who was there, described the scene at
Bow Church as a more exciting one than the papers gave any
idea of. He was certain that if it had not been in church there
would have been a regular tumult. The Second " Oyez, oyez,
oyez," of the crier, inviting opponents to come forward and state
objections, ending with, " and ye shall be heard," produced an
extraordinary sensation of indignation. It added to the effect
that the proclamation was delivered in the properly uncon
scious, sonorous, nasal tone in which criers deliver themselves ;
so that nothing of the ridiculous was lost. It was said Sir
Fitzroy Kelly entered very keenly into the case, and was even

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 191
sanguine as to the result. Lushington lost his temper at Bow,
all seem to say, and behaved quite disreputably as a judge. —
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
A note from Mr. Keble to J. B. M., dated February 18,
touches gently on the Bishop of Oxford's part in the whole
business. A friend, under the initial T, had been endeavouring
to engage his [Mr. Keble's] good offices for a friendly notice in
The Guardian. February 18, 1848.
My dear Mozley, — . . . I explained to him that I considered
the Bishop to have been carried away into weak and incon
sistent behaviour through no bad motive, but from an earnest
desire of peace joined to a fancy that he was the person to
make it, as by a kind of special mission, which all must allow.
I told him in substance that I thought Mr. K. had done more
harm than good, and that the best line for the Bishop and his
friends was to be quiet and leave it to his future conduct to
show him the true and straightforward person which I have
no doubt he wishes to be, and substantially is. . . .
Accept my best thanks for " Martin Luther," who I never
expected could have been made so amusing and interesting as
I find him — being now in my second reading. — Ever yours
affectionately, J. Keble.
Writing soon after this correspondence, J. B. M. to his sister
says : — " I have to dine — not an agreeable prospect — with the
Bishop of Oxford on Wednesday, but he sent to ask me to meet
his brother the Archdeacon, and I did not like to decline
again." The Bishop's social charm was an influence he did
well to rely on. He always seems to have been most himself
when most pleasing. To his Sister. February 28, 1848.
... At Cuddesden there was not much of a party, and
what there was was of the free and easy sort. . . . Eobert

192 Letters of the
Wilberforce was there, and we — that is C. Marriott, myself, and
he — went over in the same fly. The Bishop was as courteous
and agreeable as ever. The subject of Hampden and the con
firmation of bishops, etc., was fearlessly entered upon in the
general, but I observed that the awkward point was always
kept a respectable distance from. . . . The subject nicely moved
round it, and never touched. Hampden's letters have evidently
nettled him. . . . All, under-graduates included, made them
selves perfectly at home, and certainly the Bishop has the art
of making persons feel at home. He does not put on dignity.
The Wilberforce nature prevails in him to a certain extent,
notwithstanding his advancement.
What a tremendous affair seems coming on now ! I never
was so utterly astonished as at the first news of Louis Philippe's
abdication. But this event, I suppose, will soon be left behind.
J. B. M.
Amongst papers, shortly after this date, is a little note signed
with well-known initials : — " A pretty state we are in alto
gether, with a Eadical Pope teaching all Europe rebeUioni
Every post brings a fresh argument for the duty of securing
the middle classes if possible. — E. I. W."
J. B. M. to his Sister. February, 1848.
There is a small excitement going on within a limited circle
here in consequence of a Musical Professorship being vacant.
There are some dozen candidates — among the rest, the two fierce
rivals, Dr. Wesley and Dr. Gauntlet. Dr. Gauntlet made his
appearance in my rooms on Saturday evening, and commenced
instantly talking in a continuous flow about music and his
own views. Before five minutes were over he was chanting a
Psalm, in the style of what he conjectured to be the Temple
service instituted by David. He has written a book, of which
he produced the proof-sheets of Psalms with notation for
chanting in this style. I was not fascinated by it. Dr. G. has
one advantage — he is not a loud talker, though a copious one.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 193
He is obviously too a clever man, and when he breakfasted
with me the next morning talked sometimes about other sub
jects, and was amusing. — Yours, J. B. M.
J. B. M. may be said to have had a passion for music, if that
word is compatible with serenity of tone and manner in listen
ing to it and talking of it. It stimulated thought. He had
a correct ear and a fine intelligent perception of style and
quality, a contempt for the commonplace and trash ; he had
strong tastes and dislikes, finding moral distinctions between
different composers. He never listened indolently or uncon
sciously. It might seem strange that his share in the perform
ance was never other than as a listener. But probably he had
no singing voice (I doubt if any person ever heard him test his
powers), and one may say that he never put bis hand to any
other skilled labour than that of holding and guiding a pen.
To his Sister. Oxford, March 31, 1848.
. . . There have been some amusing struggles this term in
the Union — i.e. Debating Society — on the subject of Stanley's
Sermons. You know what they are — a new volume — which have
been preached before the University, and represent the German
School in England. Mr. Burgon, a Fellow of Oriel and a
tremendous Churchman, who is librarian to the Union, and to
whom it belongs to recommend books for purchase to the Union,
refused to recommend this book; whereupon a certain Congreve,
a Fellow of Wadham, and great Arnoldite, also a master at
Eugby, came from Eugby on purpose to propose a vote of
censure on Burgon, on the grounds that he had consulted his
own private theological tastes in the matter, and not acted as
the officer of the Society. The combat was conducted with
great spirit ; and Burgon, who is a great punster, fired off an
enormous number of puns on Congreve's name — aUusion to
rockets, a man of fiery temperament, etc. — and whether his
puns or his arguments carried the day, he won it by some
hundred to some thirty votes. N

1 94 Letters of the
Stanley is a very amiable pleasing man in himself, and
one would not like him to be the subject of any rude triumph ;
— but the whole affair seems to have been without any acerbity.
I have written a notice upon his Sermons in this C. R. — a thing
I did not want to do, inasmuch as I meet him occasionally and
am always good friends with him. But it would not have
done to have omitted them altogether, so I made a notice of them
— a tolerably long one, I aUow. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
Oxford, April 14, 1848.
Dear Anne, — Palmer has a Chaldean visiting him here,
quite a young man, and I should think quite a beau in his own
country. He wears ordinarily our common dress, but will put
on bis Asiatic one if you want him. He dined with us in Hall
yesterday in it, and really looked exceedingly handsome. He
is a brother of a Mr. Eassam, who is, though a Chaldee, our
consul at Mossul. He gives a shocking description of the
Turkish governors in the provinces, and describes them as
sending for the rich men immediately on arriving at their posts,
and fleecing them as a matter of course. The expedient is,
when they have exhausted all the man's wealth, and all he
can beg from his friends, to put him to death, and suspend the
body over the church door, tUl the congregation subscribe the
rest of the sum pretended to be due from the unfortunate
deceased. His uncle had his hand cut off, and died two days
after from neglect and bleeding. The wonder to me is that
people who can live elsewhere do not emigrate.
Lord Forbes is in Oxford. He is a most zealous Scotch
Episcopalian, and is now engaged in a scheme for building a
Cathedral at Perth, in which be has received all sorts of rebuffs,
but he goes on, and is gradually getting money. Mrs. Sheppard,
the President's sister, has given him £1000, and the President
X100, and Mrs. Coutts he has hopes from. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
At a dinner party in town —
" The talk fell upon Lord G. Bentinck. Everybody agreed
he had kiUed himself by not taking hohday. He never had a

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 195
holiday, but went straight from the exciting work of the House
to Newmarket. W. said he kept a regular office in London
for the transaction of his betting business with clerks. Mr. C.
had met him at West Indian deliberations, and had been
immensely struck with his calculating powers and his prodi
gious memory, not only for figures, but documents. He could
remember a whole heap after he had been once over them.
Those calculating minds, I suppose, always must be calculating ;
it gets to be a kind of disease."
Mr. Keble, writing May 11, 1848, on a proposed Tract
movement ("Tracts for the Million"), ends a note to J. B. M.:
" I see, or rather hear, that you have got the petition I sent you
in The Guardian, and I am glad of it ; also I see that some one
of your Eeviewers there has been abusing King Charles the
First. He had need to be a very good man, that same Eeviewer.
— Yours in haste and affection, J. K."
The close of the year brought another excitement to Oxford
and to society at large. The feeling raised by Jenny Lind is
distinct from anything in one's experience. Eecalling her
voice we feel it a thing to hear once in a life ; but it did not
need musical taste or feeling to enter into her charm. She did
without beauty, and needed no feeling for music in her wor
shippers — in fact, raising enthusiasm in persons who did not
know one tune from another, — by whom she was only to be
described by superlatives and the most violent antitheses. She
visited the Bishop of Norwich, and a description from the pen
of A. P. Stanley stands before me : " Jenny Lind has been here
for three days, and leaves to-day. Of her musical powers I
will say nothing except that they produced no impression upon
me [he had no ear for music] ; but her whole character and
appearance is one of the most striking I ever saw — the manners
of a princess with the simplicity of a child and the goodness of
an angel. . . . The features are plain and homely, far beyond
what you would infer from her portraits ; but when animated

196 Letters of the
she is perfectly lovely, and her smile is, with the exception of
Dr. Pusey's, the most heavenly I ever beheld." Dr. Pusey also
is said to have been perfectly insensible to music, but there
was felt a fitness between the songstress and the divine that
produced quite a solicitude to bring the two together. Dr.
Pusey was sounded on the point. He declined all visiting, but
was willing to show her the Chapter-house. This task, how
ever, feU to others. The way to introduce the name to her
would have been to teU her Dr. Pusey was Hebrew Professor,
and a man of saintly piety. J. B. M.'s report is in a calmer
vein, but every one who saw and heard her felt the need to
give his impressions. Every correspondence of the day had
its attempt to define what is perhaps indefinable.
To his Sister. Oxford, December 2, 1848.
My dear Anne, — I have seen Jenny Lind in her public
capacity, not in private. The Donkins were not successful.
Her first appearance is certainly not taking. She is plain, and
looked older than I expected. . . . Now for the favourable
side : I must say she had wonderful powers of making this face
of hers look very pleasing, and even lofty and noble occasion
ally. She had two great powers in her face ; one of stiffening
it, and the other of resolving it, so to speak ; I mean of im
parting all sorts of active expressions, chiefly of the arch and
comical sort, to it. It was sometimes so perfectly motionless
and stiff as to be almost corpse-like, but not without a certain
grandeur, an expression of determined obstinacy, stubbornness,
and hauteur. Then when she changed to active expression, she
had all sorts of odd uses of her eyes, looking from underneath
and from the corners of her eyes, and so on, and was certainly
excessively arch ; and one expression chased another, just like
waves over the sea. I say so much about her powers of ex
pression in face, because it was quite obvious to me, before I
had been in the room a quarter of an hour, that her face was
half her singing. I felt sensibly that I lost full half whenever

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 197
I withdrew my glass. Her comic expression came out in the
Rossini and the Swedish songs at the last. However, to go to
her vocal powers, I cannot say that her voice was so full a one
as I expected, or so powerful; her wonderful power over it
seemed the great point. She could positively do anything with
it. It was absolutely obedient ; I never heard anything at all
equal to its flexibility ; she tossed it about as conjurors do
their baUs, and seemed to have twenty voices at once. She
shook with such perfection that the note seemed self-undu
lating. . . . Then she imitated an echo, first a slow, then a
quicker one, till the echo of the last note was, as in the case
of the real echo, mixed with the succeeding note. Then she
had astonishing powers of sustaining long slow notes, which she
displayed in the song from Weber. [If this was the song I
heard, it realised to me Milton's " divine enchanting ravish
ment."] I have been writing a description of vocal machinery more
than of music ; but the fact is, a concert is almost necessarily
a display of machinery. ... I do not consider that I have
heard Jenny Lind to advantage, though she showed off her
powers astonishingly. Of course there was rapturous applause,
and waving of hats and caps.
One amusing feature of the scene was, that being in an
official University room — that is, the Theatre — the Vice-Chan
cellor and Proctors, who were all there, sat in their chairs of state,
and with their caps on. So that Jenny Lind was performing
before the University ; just as we say, " a sermon preached
before the University." — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In the year 1849, J. B. M. was bursar of his College, and had
accounts to keep — an occupation not much in his line. He
reports himself as seeking relaxation under his duties in lighter
fiction, for which graver literary pursuits did not leave him
much time. After dashing off his thoughts on Monte Christo
and Wuthering Heights — finding in the latter an element of
truth and nature, however much it is spoilt — he touches on
Vanity Fair.

198 Letters of the
To his Sister. January 27, 1849.
Vanity Fair I was agreeably disappointed in ; I found it
less in the caricature line than I expected. It certainly is
full of pieces of truth and nature — I think superior to Dickens
in that, though without his exuberant powers of description.
What he fails in is power of sustaining a scene ; where feeling
comes in he cuts it very short, and this has a disappointing
effect on the reader, and it shows evidently want of power in
the writer. It is clear he would make the scene longer if he
could. To leave criticism. Gladstone is here for a few days, seeing
his constituents. He dined with me yesterday in our common
room, and of course, as in duty bound, made himself very
agreeable, and talked on all sorts of subjects, literary and
political. The revolutionary movement has at last reached us,
and a Tutorial Society is now in formation, embracing aU those
who bear or have borne College offices, for the purpose of dis
cussing academical measures, and reporting thereupon to the
Hebdomadal Board. Something of the kind has been wanted a
long time, for the Hebdomadal Board never consult anybody
previous to issuing a measure ; then, when the voting comes,
there is no distinction allowed, but the whole must be either
accepted or rejected. This is a great stopper to aU improve
ments. So some medium of conference beforehand with the
Heads is a desideratum. This is only a form, in fact, of the
original powers of Convocation, which have disappeared for
years. Of course the Heads will not like it ; indeed for us it is a
somewhat revolutionary proceeding. But there is such solidity
in the resident body of Masters that one need not be much
afraid of excess. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Oxford, March 14, 1849.
I have dipped a good deal into the book you sent me
[Poetry Past and Present]. The translations from the classics
at the end are as good as elegant translators can make.
Anstice has a considerable name. It so happened I heard

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 199
one it gives of his recited at a party as a specimen of
good translation, a few days before I had this book. I
must confess, however, that to me all translations, without
exception, appear faUures. Cowley's, which is not a failure,
is hardly a translation ; it merely takes the idea from Pindar :
— translations, I mean, from the ancients. Modern, I sup
pose, is feasible. Miss Donkin's, from the German, always
strike me as being remarkable specimens of successful fusion
— things that one would read without knowing that they were
translations. To his Sister. Oxford, May 2, 1849.
We went our Magdalen progress last week — that is to say,
two of us, myself and the college steward together, hiring a
carriage at Oxford, which we put on the rail to Beading, and
then posted. My companion is an exceUent man of business,
and formidable to farmers. His information and conversation
were principally in that department, in which I was less at
home than he ; so that he, though generally taciturn, was the
principal talker of the two. He is a brother of Mrs. Eouth,
one of the Berkshire Blagraves. The family is a good deal
reduced ; but Colonel Blagrave, bis brother, is stiU a country
squire of property. We drove through old family estates
in the course of our travels, now passed away from them, but
on which his father resided part of the year, in his boyish
days ; going from one hall where he lived the winter, to another
where he hved the summer, with an immense train of servants
and carriages, at a huge expense, there being no kind of difference
between the two places, except that one was eighteen miles
from the other. His kitchen bills may be estimated from the
fact that his biU for malt for the year was £400. All the ser
vants and all their friends ate and drank ad libitum ; and post
boys were never known to be sober on returning from his house.
Our journey was as otiose as it is possible to imagine, starting
long after breakfast in the morning, and stopping long before
dinner in the evening : precisely the same days and hours for
meeting tenantry being kept that have been since the College

200 Letters of the
was founded, when travelling was conducted over impassable
roads, and on horseback, with College retainers, with large horse
pistols and arquebusses behind.1 It was, probably, a hard week's
1 The old order in Oxford is so utterly changed that a glimpse into one
scene of its domestic life may interest the reader. Dr. Eouth, then in his
95th year, and his surroundings, even at the date of the following letter,
were regarded as relics of a former state of things : —
"Oxford, June 11, 1849.
' ' My dear Maria, — Yesterday we dined at the President's — such a curious
interesting scene ; Mr. B. congratulated Fanny on it, as what so few
people do see. The President is more old and wonderful-looking than any
one could imagine beforehand. He must always have been below middle
height ; but age has bent and shrunk him to something startlingly short
when he walks. In his chair one does not perceive it so much. The
wig, of course, adds to the effect — such a preposterous violation of nature.
It seems quite to account for his not hearing what people say. His
manner was most kind and courteous to mamma ; and he took the
opportunity of taking her into dinner to say some complimentary things of
James, of whom I think he is very fond. It is really very nice to see
his Fellows round him ; they seem so fond of him. An indulgent respectful
reverence, with a good deal of fun all the while, is the general manner ; and
he is very cheerful, and often laughs with the greatest heartiness. Mrs.
Routh, in her way, is as unusual a person to meet ; and harmonises with
the scene ; — extremely good-natured, probably had always something of the
manner of a child, so wonderfully simple and unassuming. James says,
what an absolute contrast their drawing-room presents to any other Head of
a House in Oxford, in the terms of easy familiarity between the Fellows and
their Head. Mrs. Eouth is evidently not made for the stately. . . . She is
so amiable and so thoughtful, in her way, for the comfort and amusement of
her guests that one has quite an affectionate feeling towards her. She took
us into many of the rooms, and into the College library. One singular addi
tion to the party was Mr. Ormuzd Eassam, in full Chaldean costume, at Mrs.
Eouth's particular desire. This Eassam is brother of the Consul at Mossul,
and himself was with Mr. Layard, and his chief help and ally in all his dis
coveries. You will remember the picture of this one in the procession of
the Bull. James is always remarking his exact resemblance to the figures in
the sculptures ; and it is very true he claims direct descent from the ancient
Assyrians, and says his nation has never been allowed to marry strangers,
except just now, when his brother has married an English woman. Dr.
Bloxam has spread it abroad that he is forty-fourth cousin of Nebuchadnezzar.
and Eassam complains that he has been asked everywhere if it is really true.
. . . Mrs. Eouth laments his approaching departure : ' We shall go into
mourning when he is gone ! Oh, he is such a good man, such a very good
man, I am so fond of him ! ' The President compliments him on his beauty :
' But as for such cousins as Nebuchadnezzar, they are nothing to boast of.'
" The look of things there was all so characteristic. The house full of
books ; the dining-room filled with folios and quartos, drawing-room, stair
case, passages, etc., with smaller books. Mrs. Eouth complains she shall
soon not be able to get about, from the accumulation of book-shelves, for he
still buys, and knows where every book in his library is. She took us into
his dressing-room. The dressing appointments were of the most limited

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 201
peregrination then. Herbert 1 came to me at Winchester
to breakfast, after which we went to the cathedral ; and then
started to our manor farm at Otterbourne. There I left Blagrave,
and called on Mr. Yonge with Herbert. Mrs. and Miss Yonge
were not at home ; Mr. Yonge having left them in London,
principally, I believe, to come down to see me, in order to talk
about Otterbourne school, for which he is anxious to procure a
large subscription from the College. I was sorry not to see
Miss Yonge. We then went to Hursley, and lunched at the
Kebles', and went over the church, which I had not seen before.
The piers are criticised as being rather too low, and I thought
the altar end might have been more raised. But the architect
was bent on keeping the village church style. It is impossible,
however, to judge of it till the stained glass is in. Mrs. Keble
looked very well, and Keble himself in good spirits. They
have been successful with their ladies' petition against the new
Marriage Bill, and have got nearly 10,000 signatures. Sir G.
Grey, who is to present it to the Queen, was very kind and
polite in his notes to Keble, and made allusions to former days
at Oriel.
kind ; but the walls up to the ceiling are covered with books, and there is
a set of steps, which Mrs. E. said he could ascend quite nimbly, to reach
any book he wants. As for the wigs, Mr. B. is in hopes of possessing one,
and he communicates this hope to Mrs. Eouth, who makes many charac
teristic exclamations. In the midst of all these venerable books, pictures of
founders, and old-fashioned homely furniture — the Fellows in their gowns,
Rassam in his flowing bright Eastern dress, and the President in his ' knees,'
huge buckles, to his shoes, and robes, all as different from anything one is
used to as may be — there was a gentleman commoner not much at home in
the scene. He said he had never worn his gown so many hours together in
his life. The bright moment of the evening to him was when Dr. Bloxam
got a cup of tea (which he had stipulated with Mrs. Eouth should be a good
cup, not husband's tea) in his cocoa-cup. The management of these bever
ages was almost too much for Mrs. Eouth, though she had Mr. B. and
Fanny to help her.
"James was the one to talk to the President, and to draw him out.
They talked of Hume, Adam Smith, Home, Parr, Hurd, Jortin, Dr.
Johnson (who, by the way, Dr. Eouth remembered on his last visit to Oxford,
describing him to us, as though seeing him, in a 'brown tradesman's wig'),
and discussing style, etc. ... I could not hear much distinctly ; but knew
what it was all about. ... I did not say that Mrs. Eouth calls the President
' my own. ' ' Take care, my own, ' I heard her cry out ; she is very attentive
to him, and protested much against Dr. Bloxam's satire on Husband's tea."
1 His nephew, then at school at Twyford, before his election as King's
Scholar to Eton.

202 Letters of the
The country about Selborne, where we were one day, is
very beautiful. I made acquaintance with a man who remem
bered Gilbert White quite well, and had taken tea with him
often. — Yours affectionately, J- B. M.

To his Sister. Oxford, March 15, 1850.
The Gorham decision is of course making a sensation ; or
rather it is not so much a sensation, as a graver feeling that a
long and anxious struggle is commencing, of which people do not
see the issue. I do not think that the body of High Church
men are at all wanting to act in a hurry, but wiU be patient,
and are prepared for years of contest and suspense. So I see
nothing immediate coming to alarm people. There are a few
who want to push matters to extremes at once, but the evident
want of temper which such men show rather serves to make
the rest deliberate. And such men are for the most part not
men of weight or influence, intellectual or moral. Keble and
Pusey are very conservatively disposed, also Marriott. I
believe even Mr. Bennett is drawing back from his first
movement. Maskell and Allies are for extremes.
With respect to the doctrinal question, and whether Mr.
Gorham is really an actual heretic or not, I would not for my
own part commit myself to an opinion. I have read enough
to see that the doctrine of baptismal regeneration has a history
appended to it, and is not to be decided upon wholly from
the verbal statements in the Church Office, but that we are
bound to go into the history of it. And I certainly see vari
ous changes and modifications as to the doctrine, coming out
in that history, as allowable within the Church. I see state
ments made sometimes, which, if put into easy English and
placed before some of our orthodox friends, would be set down
at once as heresy, but which occur in undoubtedly orthodox
authorities. It is possible that further reading might undo
the effect of what one has now read ; though I do not think
that probable. But I know enough to see that people make
very strong assertions on points on which they do not know

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 203
much in reference to this question. Archdeacon Wilberforce's
book is by no means satisfactory. He seems to me to make
considerable flaws both in his reasoning and also in his inter
pretation of passages in ancient writers. He preached a
stirring sermon on the Eeport last Sunday. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
In his letters home at this date, at each returning quarter,
there is generaUy some mention of the Christian Remembrancer.
To his Sister. Oxford, April 3, 1850.
I hope the C. R. meets with your approbation ; I think it a
decidedly good number. . . . Church's article — the last one
[Church and State] — is very good, and wUl I hope have the
effect of quieting some minds who think so fearfully of our
Eeformation Erastianism. It had the effect upon me, as if one
whole side of the truth, which bad been completely suppressed
throughout this controversy, and all the controversy of the last
twenty years, had now fairly come out. Of course we shall
displease our ultra friends who are eager for a convulsion. I
confess I am not. Nor do I see anything in the temper of
those who are which attracts me.
Southey's poetry I have not read for years, but I remember
the impression it always produced upon me was that of a
brilliant, lighted-up stage-scene. I allude to all that gorgeous
Asiatic scenery and pomp piled upon pomp, aU very powerful,
but not an elevation of a material simply natural to begin
with, as the highest poetry is, but starting upon an unearthly
unnatural ground from the first. The change from his early
Utopianism to his common sense content in after life, and
satisfaction with his pursuits, and with the world because
it supplied them, is a change, some modification of which
thousands of people go through, but in Southey all comes out in
black and white. The letter to Coleridge at the end is truly
characteristic of him — that is in one of his best aspects : — a
tremendous letter certainly.1 ... I was at the X.'s the other
1 A letter reproaching Coleridge with his lavish display of all the signs of

204 Letters of the
day. She is rather criticised here in the form that men say
they like her sister the better of the two. This sort of criticism
is often unfair, for Miss X. is, 'after all, a more active contributor
to people's amusement than the other. But all people profess
to admire quietness of manner, and to make that their standard ;
though, when it comes to, they will pass by the quiet one, and
go to the vivacious.
He comments on the news of an eccentric marriage, which
excited stronger surprise in some quarters : —
The news about A. B. was a surprise, though I could
not bring myself up to the proper standard of grief. There
is something, however, almost grotesque, that prevents deep
feeling, the oddness of choice is so much the most prominent
feature. After all, he has done only what Bichard Hooker did,
but events that happen now strike one so very differently from
those that happened three centuries ago. I hope he will bring
her into some kind of shape, so as to allow of our seeing him
again — for I find, after all, my opinion of him is not so very
much altered. I have no doubt he would talk exceedingly
well and interestingly about the whole affair, and show it in
such a variety of aspects as would entirely deprive it of the
matter-of-fact, ordinary incident of a man marrying his cook,
and present us with a piece of poetry instead.
To his Sister. Oxford, May 11, 1850.
A petition to the Queen and address to the Archbishop 1 are
now in course of signature, generaUy among members of Con
vocation, resident or non-resident, though the canvass for non
resident names has not yet completely commenced. The
petition is ably got up, and the points brought forward are
good. The lawyers in town had principally to do with it. I
send you a copy. You will see the President's name appears
at the top. He looked over it and made some corrections
friendship to people he did not really care for. See Life and Correspondence
of Robert Southey, vol. i. p. 266.
1 On the threatened Eoyal Commission for University Eeform.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 205
before printing. The great apprehension felt here, even among
those who are inchned to the cause, is as to Convocation.
They dread the row and dissensions which wiU ensue. This
apprehension is entertained principally by the officials of the
place. I own I am not much surprised at this ; for a formal
move for Convocation is a serious thing — aU parties have
agreed so long to put down the idea, the High Church party
quite as much as the rest ; and in all the only champion
of Convocation has been Whately. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
In a letter written May 1850, James has heard from Mr.
Gladstone on the Colonial Church question, who also tells him
he is preparing a speech on the University question, to come
on on the 30th of May. J. B. M. reports that " the document
of the Hebdomadal Board in The Times was written (I hear)
by the Provost." About this time my brother Tom spent a
few days at Derby, when the subject of the Commission was
entered upon. His sister writes to J. B. M., May 21 : —
" I think that Tom regards the Eoyal Commission as inevi
table, and that people will weaken their chance of influence
and the weight of their opinion by opposing all change as the
Heads are doing. Our argument was that people did weU to
mistrust Lord John. He seemed to say you did not commit
yourself to him by allowing this first step. ' If a man comes
with a pennyworth of watercresses to your door, and you buy
them, you are not bound to buy a dead horse if he comes with
it an hour after.' He wiU not allow it to be an objection that
Lord John knows nothing of the University system, as possibly
this deficiency deprives him of power to carry his point. He
seemed both anxious and interested on the subject."
The Commission was appointed.
To his Sister. October 17, 1850.
The Heads of Houses are in a state of considerable excite
ment about the new Commission, and the presence of Jeune at

206 Letters of the
the Board led to a discussion as to the propriety of the same
person belonging to two antagonistic bodies, as the Board and
the Commission are. The discussion ended in the Board
resolving itself into a Committee containing all the members
of the Board with the single exception of Jeune.
Towards the end of the year 1850 Lord John startled the
country by his Ecclesiastical Titles Bill.
To his Sister. Oxford, November 29, 1850.
. . . Everybody is expecting considerable difficulty from
Lord John in the next Parliament. The popular feeling is
thoroughly expressed for some bill against the Eoman
Catholics ; but how can Lord John do it and retain his Irish
members ? And if no biU is passed, and these Eoman Catholic
bishops go on caUing themselves Bishop of Northampton, etc.,
it will be a blow to the Queen's supremacy, for the whole
world has agreed that the Queen's supremacy is involved in
this matter. D., who is a considerable Eomaniser, met Cardinal
Wiseman the other day at Mr. Scott Murray's at dinner. There
was a grand party of Eoman Catholic gentry and nobility,
ladies, etc., and converts. All went on their knees to the
Cardinal. D. was disgusted with the man himself, and
thought him vulgar. He began immediately talking about
his pamphlet and its sale. To his Sister. Oxford, February 6, 1851.
We had our meeting on the University Commission on
Wednesday, and decided by 26 to 5 against giving any infor
mation. There was never known so large a meeting of Fellows.
At the same time we carried a resolution unanimously that
something was to be done for the improvement and extension
of our CoUege system of education. So we are going to reform
ourselves.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 207
Speaking of certain recent clerical converts J. B. M. writes : —
A. sets up now quite as a layman. He has taken a house,
and furnished it in style, and, being a man of good family and
fortune, he does not seem to have lost secularly by the change.
B. takes advantage of his lay character, and goes to the theatre.
C. has a stall at the Opera-house. No particular harm in this,
if they reaUy suppose themselves laymen. . . . And yet, under
ah the circumstances of the case, when men have put them
selves forward as such tremendous theologians, these things are
rather ridiculous.1 To his Sister. Oxford, March 9, 1851.
The excitement of the political world has made up for the
want of events in Oxford, of which there has been a dearth
throughout the term, the most important fact I know being
that Magdalen College is going to reform itself, and has ap
pointed a committee for that object, of which I am one. We
have nearly concluded our sittings now, and a report is being
drawn up. We shall recommend to the CoUege to found a
Hall in connection with itself, and adapted for the most econo
mical style of life for the students. Also the old corrupt system
of nomination to demyships will be abolished. As I have had
my share of the patronage of this system, it is no great sacrifice
to me now to recommend its abolition.
The prospects of the political world are sufficiently unsettled.
Nobody seems to imagine Lord John can continue much longer,
and if he goes, one does not know why the Peelites may not come
in. If they do, and Gladstone with them, the University will
perhaps have cause to thank the Election Committee, which
brought in the latter, as he is quite determined against the
University Commission. At any rate, Lord John is not the
person he was ; his wing is cut short, and he can no longer be
1 The eagerness of certain clerical converts to parade their emancipation
from the restraints of Anglican orders was an irritating feature of the day.
In my correspondence ladies describe with a sort of loathing encounters
with old acquaintance whom they had known in all the decorum of clerical
black, now garbed in showy waistcoats, or as one letter specifies in " blue
neckties and ginger-coloured trousers."

208 Letters of the
energetically mischievous. A Peel Ministry will be favourable
to the fair claims of the Church, and disposed to give up the old
Eoyal Prerogative ground. Lord Aberdeen voted for the Bishop
of London's BiU, and Gladstone and Sidney Herbert would
both be strong on the Prerogative question. Gladstone, too,
has great private influence over the Duke of Newcastle. As for
Sir James Graham, he does not care a farthing for the Church,
or for equity ; but he would be obliged to make terms with
Gladstone, if he was to have his services. So, on the whole,
the claims of the Church are looking up. The Eoman Catholics
have done good service here, for nothing has so damaged the
Prerogative prestige for years as this late affair. The real
weakness of the whole claim has been so thoroughly exposed.
At the same time, I am far from looking with unmixed satis
faction on a state of greater Church liberty. It wiU be con
nected with all sorts of nuisances, and the advantages gained
will be much less than people anticipate. However, such a
course of things is the order of the day, and the spirit of the
age naturally brings it on. So, even if one did not want it, one
has no choice in the matter.
I have kept very well hitherto, but should not be surprised
if, as a measure of precaution, I took a run down to Malvern
for two or three days. I have never been there, and have an
idea that the air is exactly the thing. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister.
April 26, 1851.
. . . Our College politics have had a serious reverse since I
wrote last. The President has summarily squashed the whole
scheme, on the ground of being unstatutable. The committee,
upon this, feel a little touched, just that gentle irritation being
excited, which is rather pleasing than otherwise to the mind.
His argument is the most ridiculous you can conceive, and this
he probably knows ; but anything that threatens to interfere
with Magdalen as it is he cannot bear. Whether we shall pro
ceed any further or not I don't know. The President has an
absolute veto, or rather initiative, in CoUege. Perhaps we may

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 209
make a proposal to get the Statute question settled by an appeal
to the Visitor. Meanwhile, it is a great triumph to the Univer
sity Commission, who will, of course, say, Here is a college
trying to improve itself, and cannot for want of an external
impulse. You would see Manning's and Hope's conversions in The
Times. It is James Eobert Hope, not the other. He has always
had a strong E. C. bias, and was expected to go five years ago,
when J. H. N. went.
I have been two days with my friend Frank Faber. He is
always a pleasant person to go to, being so amusing a talker,
and pointed and lively. He is far superior to his brother
Frederick in this point, whose talk always seemed to me arti
ficial and with effort, and, after aU, nothing sharp about it. —
Yours, J. B. M.
In July of 1851 his nephew, John Eickards Mozley, was
elected King's Scholar at Eton, as on the same occasion his
brother Herbert had been two years before.
To his Sister. Oxford, August 1, 1851.
I congratulate you all, and especially Jemima, on Johnny's
triumphant success, which justifies the bold predictions of
Herbert from the first, and is a well-merited reward to him after
his exertions. I had been expecting for two or three days past
to hear some news, remembering that this must be the time
when the examination would have to be decided ; the com
pleteness of coming in on the spot is also a great additional
satisfaction. Oxford is so quiet that one really quite feels as if one was
at some place away from it ; it loses its identity ; and a stroll
in the deep shades of our walks in the evening has the effect of
an entire remoteness from all human things.
We voted at a College meeting last week a portrait of the
Bishop of Exeter to be placed in Hall, he to choose his own
painter. — Yours, J. B. M.
0

210 Letters of the
Writing August 13, a postscript says : —
" The Bishop of Exeter has acknowledged our compliment in
his usual polite style to the President ; in a letter in which he
also alluded to the chance of himself and the President having
to suffer and be confessors together in the cause of the Church.
The President, who remembers old times about the Bishop of E,
was rather amused than edified by the allusion, and thinks it
a capital joke."
To the Eev. E. W. Church. Derby, May 17, 1852.
I am going to give you a small commission, which I hope
will not take up much time. There is a certain book called
Stephen's Collection of Ecclesiastical Statutes, which contains
all the Acts of Parliament relating to the Church specifically
from Magna Charta downwards.
I want the period between the Eeformation and the dissolu
tion of Convocation in 1717. Could you run over the pages,
and note the sorts of Acts which passed through Parliament
relating to the Church during this time ? I want rather to know
whether any relating to diocesan or parochial organisation,
or clerical residence or pluralities, and any of the sort of Acts
which for the past fifty years have been usual in Parliament,
passed during that time.
The reason I want it is for this. On looking over Lathbury's
History of Convocation, I do not see that Convocation troubled
itself at all with the temporal organisation of the Church, con
fining itself to canons about doctrine and ceremonial services,
etc. So if any such Act passed Parliament then, it would show
that the Convocation of that day left such matters to the Crown
and Parliament, and did not think that its own confirmation
in such case was necessary.
I see the London Church Committee object to Lord Bland-
ford's Act, on the ground that assent of Convocation ought to
be had in such a case.
I do not remember that any such Acts did pass Parliament
in those times, for things were tolerably at a standstill in point

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 211
of population, which has been the great reason of such Acts in
later years. However, such a length of time would hardly pass
without some interference of Parliament with Church tempora
lities. It has occurred to me, and I think I have talked to you about
it, that if Convocation does meet again, our friends will be dis
gusted to find these sorts of Acts passing through Parliament
just as heretofore, without any reference to Convocation, or the
least idea, on the part of any one member of the House, that
its opinion is to be asked on the subject. One cannot expect
the House to discontinue its present mode of legislating on such
subjects, and then the Church will appear to many more subju
gated than ever ; for Convocation being met wiU be simply a
spectator of such legislation, and not a participator in it.
So I think we ought to be raising up some image, if we can,
of the practical future of Convocation; to tell men what they
are to expect, and what Convocation is to do, and what it is not
to do.
I rather purpose trying to get an article out of Gladstone, on
the subject of the Parliamentary relation to Convocation.
As you have looked into the French Convocation history a
little, perhaps you might know what were its general subject-
matters. What powers did the Crown and Parhament of
France exercise in the temporal organisation of the French
Church \ And did the French Convocation assent to or share
in such organisation ? . . .
I am reading Mill's Logic, i.e. judiciously — those parts I can
understand. I am much impressed with the immense quantity
of thought which he has put together, though one rather misses
that very high sort of acuteness which one has in Hume and
Pascal. He seems to get at his philosophy by patience and
accuracy more than genius, though one would not say that he
had none of the latter. And I cannot help suspecting that he
makes considerable blunders in consequence of some defect
here; for patience and accuracy cannot do everything, and
wiU make mistakes for want of genius, just as genius wiU make
mistakes for want of them ; but I am talking prematurely. —
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.

212 Letters of the Derby, June 21, 1852.
My dear Church, — Your article is an important one,1 as
being a judgment on a question which has been raised so much
lately, viz., the trustworthiness of Pascal's letters. And Pascal
is such a book, such a centre and peg in the war theological,
that it is highly important it should be kept, and the proper
defence be made when it is attacked. M. Maynard is sufficiently
clever to deserve an answer, and he exposes himself sufficiently
to make him a convenient man to answer.
The article has suffered a little here and there from your
having to do two things at once, collect information and arrange
it. I think it is impossible to do this myself ; so a point here
and there loses by not being sufficiently brought out. But the
idea you give of his arguments (M.'s, I mean) is very accurate
and forcible. The view of the sacraments, as entertained in the
Eoman Church, wiU be new to people. At least I had never
heard of it.
I have not exactly expressed what I think your article-does,
viz., that it lets one into a whole interior state of things in the
Eoman Church, — not of an exaggerated and horrible sort as
the " disclosures " so called, which people do not really believe
(I mean those who are bent on fairness to Eome), — but of a
probable and ordinary stamp of commonplaceness and laxity
and worldliness, such as people wiU instantly recognise as true.
They have let the cat out of the bag, in short, and we have
taken advantage of it. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In June of 1852, J. B. M. went abroad with his sisters.
After taking the Ehine leisurely, he writes : — ¦
To the Eev. E. W. Church. Geneva, July 11, 1852.
We have not been very expeditious traveUers to get no
further than here after seventeen days, but we professed to
take it easy. . . . Nothing we have seen in the way of scenery
is equal to the upper (I mean) Vevay end of the Lake of
Geneva; it is truly Acherontian. It had that dark purple
1 "Pascal and Ultramontanism : " Christian Remembrancer. July 1852.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 213
mist on it when we first saw it, out of which the tremen
dous rocks on the Savoy side gloomed awfully. The opposite
bank, too, is so mild and agricultural, with lonesome and
quiet villages, that when you looked from your steamer, first
on one side and then on the other, you might fancy the water
dividing earth from "Epe/3o?. Such scenes must have sug
gested to Homer and Virgil their ideas on such subjects. I
should think that when Ulysses, after rowing nine days on the
ocean, at last reached the £6<f>ov rjepoevra, and saw the ghost of
Achilles, Ajax, etc., it must have been some such place. . . .
We took in the Lake of Geneva at the special recommendation
of my brother Tom, who was wonderfully taken with it last
year. . . . Geneva is certainly a taking place, and looks by no
means Calvinistie.
I cannot exactly make out what sort of thing the National
Swiss Church is. Where I have introduced the subject I have
always observed an inclination to stick up for it, as against the
Free Church, and that in religious quarters: e.g. travelling
with a Moravian by dUigence, a good sort of man — who talked
of Scott and Newton— he said the Free Church of the Canton
Vaud was but a small section, the mass of the people going
with the National Church. I pushed him with the Geneva
Church, asking if the National Church of Switzerland as a
body had religious communion with the German Church? —
a question which he parried by saying that each Canton had
its own Established Church, which had not necessarily com
munion with the Churches of other countries. In an Evan
gelical bookseller's shop here there was the same kind of
shiftiness. I saw immediately that the subject was an unplea
sant one. What was the difference between the National
Church and the Free Church ? " Oh, pas beaucoup !" I
confessed myself surprised, and said I understood there was a
serious difference in doctrine. But the man shrugged up his
shoulders higher and higher, and said "C'est suivant, Mon
sieur." He admitted, however, afterwards that the National
Church of Geneva denied the divinity of Christ. The Free
Church has only 5000 here.
The Eoman Catholics on the Ehine are having vernacular

214 Letters of the
services at a great rate. They are more prominent than they
were, I think. At Cologne the Grand Mass was very poorly
attended, but perhaps that might be owing to the choir being
blocked up. Again, at vespers, there was literally nobody
except ourselves. The popular services were some vernacular
litanies. At Strasburg there were two in the Cathedral, very
effective, about half an hour each, with a sermon after them.
The organ accompanied with full power, and the whole congre
gation singing in the nave. It was in fact little more than
hymn-singing and a sermon. I sometimes wish our Church
would adapt herself in the same way to the wants of the
people. The Germans being a nation of singers, the Church seems to
make everything singing there. . . .
Best remembrances to Johnson and his wife, and the Ogles.
—Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
It was during this excursion, when the party had reached
Como, that the news came to them of the death of Mrs. Thomas
Mozley. She had been long in weak health; but when her
sisters-in-law took leave of her in passing through London no
fear of the coming event, so imminent, was in their thoughts.
There had always been a strong mutual regard and appreciation
between ber and her brother-in-law, shown in many pleasant
instances in the family correspondence.
J. B. M. to T. M.
Como, July 24, 1852.
My dear Tom, — The sad news has just arrived. It is
indeed a shock to us all. I feel all sorts of recoUections
crowding upon me now that she has passed away. It is a deep
blow to one's spirits, yet I could truly wish always to be in
the state of mind in which I am now, if one could be without
the occasion which causes it. Such events are indeed wonder
fully calming and subduing, and everything in this world seems
of no importance, and the love of the world loses its bold upon
one for the time, when they take place. I need not say how

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 215
unexpected the news is. None of us were at all prepared
for it.
We are, you may easily imagine, in no humour to enjoy
any more Italian scenery, and shaU leave this place by the
quickest route for England immediately. I am glad to bear
from Jemima that you bear your loss as every one who knows
you would expect you to do. — Yours affectionately, J..B. M.
On the death of the Duke of Wellington the vacant Chancel
lorship becomes an important subject.
To the Eev. E. W. Church
September 26,. 1-852.
My dear Church, — In case Lord Derby should not accept
the offer — an event which, I think, is on the cards— and Lord
Eedesdale is not put up, which appears certain;, as one has
not heard of anybody seriously proposing him, I should wish
my name to be put to a requisition to the Duke of Newcastle ;
and so leave it with you. The more I think of Lord Derby's
position as Premier, the more I see difficulties — or what
should be such — to his acceptance of the Chancellorship. I
cannot think, with The Guardian, that a statesman as such is
cut out; for this would be simply driving us to take some
stupid man every time. But a statesman and a Premier — under
the present circumstances of the University — will certainly
find himself in an awkward situation as ChanceUor. For he
cannot avoid, if he stays in office, acting in some way respecting
the University. For to do nothing wUl be to act, and to act
decisively. And he cannot act as Premier without coming
into some collision with his office as Chancellor. The public
will say, You are an advocate, not an impartial man to legislate.
On the other hand, if Lord Derby does not feel himself at all
sure of office, he may say that it does not suit him to reject
a permanent position on account of so slippery a one as a
Premiership. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In 1852 J. B. M. visits bis brother Arthur, then curate of
Hingham, of which the Hon. W. Wodehouse was rector.

216 Letters of the
To his Sister. Hingham, November 1, 1852:
It was a long time since I had seen your hand, and I was glad
to see it again. I stayed three weeks at Yarmouth ; through
half of that time I had the advantage of Arthur's and Eliza's
company. I do not know whether the reason is that there is
nothing else to see, but I think the sea is seen to great advan
tage at Yarmouth, nor do I remember more enjoying walks on
the beach. It comes in with considerable force sometimes.
About sunset the lights on it were particularly good, especially
when it was calm ; then the nursery of bloaters really looked
quite spiritual. I indulged in a few novels recommended by
the Wodebouses: Markland and Margaret Maitland, by the
same author, are very good, though with defects, and wanting
incident and filling up. But there is a genial element of
domesticity in the principal character in each, which is brought
out very weU ; and there is a good deal of humour, which is a
great advantage. Novels are generally very deficient in it. . . .
Mrs. Norton is to me a very stupid novelist, if one is to
judge from a certain Stuart of Dunleath, full of drawling and
exaggerated sentiment from beginning to end, without incident
or humour ; and depending really, as far as I could judge, on
certain awkward positions of things, — as approaches to the
vicious, — for its interest at aU : there being, I suppose, some
people sufficiently morbid to like the excitement of that, without
absolutely approving it. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In 1853 a new election was caUed for on Mr. Gladstone's
taking office under Sir James Graham's administration.
To his Sister. Oxford, January 9, 1853.
The election is going on well ; Gladstone eighty -seven ahead.
I hardly expect, with this majority and the fact of two defeats,
many more will be brought up on Percival's side. . . . Keble
and Moberly came up the first day, and dined in Oriel, where
I met them. Keble seemed in good spirits, and not to care
about the coalition — very angry with Denison. But Isaac

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 217
Wilhams is strong against Gladstone, I hardly know on what
exact ground, whether pohtical or some other. It must be con
fessed that ah these charges have a tendency to increase a sort
of Liberalism even in quarters most sacred from such intrusion.
And a High Church Liberalism bids fair to be the order of the
day. The regular Liberals, however, are only half supporters of
Gladstone, and come up evidently with some reluctance. The
Globe for some days hinted very plainly the idea that it would be
a good thing if the University should turn G. out. This was not
a good start for a coalition of parties. And the first two days'
poU certainly looked very like the Liberals keeping back.
However, The Globe and the Liberals have both come round.
It is certainly surprising, and shows great power in Gladstone,
the way in which he contrives to retain two large parties, who
hate each other, both supporting him. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Magdalen College, Feb. 10, 1853.
My question comes on on Friday evening, at the Tutors'
Association, which is held at Oriel. 1 wish you could get
your duty done next Sunday, and come up for a few days
tiU it is settled. As far as I have sounded men hitherto,
it is approved of, the only objections being as to some matters
of detaU, and how to work it with the present viva voce system.
Some men too, otherwise favourable, rather cling to the
Hebdomadal Board as the channel of communicating evidence
to the public.
On the whole, I am disposed to leave these questions open.
Let the committee, or committees, charged with the report
settle with themselves whether they wait ; they will know by
thinking it over, whether their view is clear or requires infor
mation from others, whether they feel their minds made up.
And as to the Hebdomadal Board, after we have collected the
evidence, let us consider whether we shall send it on to the
Hebdomadal Board to print, or print it on our own account.
My main point is secured if the evidence is collected and pub
lished in any form ; though it is of advantage that evidence
should be brought out, and put in a good point of view by a

218 Letters of the
favourable report, instead of being snubbed, as it may be
snubbed, by the Hebdomadal Board report. My proposition is,
that we collect evidence (which the Hebdomadal Board is not
really doing) by asking for it, and drawing men's attention to
particular points; when collected, then publish it in one
way or another. To his Sister. February 15, 1853.
I find myself in the thick of, — where I was when I wrote
last, — University questions, and shaU remain so for some time.
I hardly know what has made me gratuitously undertake such
a subject, except I may venture to beheve that it is public
spirit. Certainly I came up to Oxford this time resolved to
have nothing to do with them, and to pursue quietly my theo
logical reading. But one cannot live in the midst of any world,
and refuse all sympathy with its interests and agitations. At
least I cannot ; some can. Accordingly, I have now an article
in the Quarterly, to which I am engaged. Gladstone introduced
me to Lockhart, who was very civil and ready to have one : —
this by writing ; I did not see him. The changes recommended
in the blue-book are so preposterous and unjust that one could
not contemplate the shame of their being accepted without
indignation ; and in the meantime nothing is being written on
the other side ; and the idea has been gaining ground that the
blue-book was being accepted. So, by way of offering my
feeble opposition to such a result, I undertake this article. I
have also induced the Tutors' Association to enter on the work
of collecting evidence on the other side, it having confined itself
hitherto to viva voce discussion. As all the productions of the
family pen have an interest to the home world, I enclose a
paper I sent out a fortnight ago, in addition to which I read
a paper on the subject last Friday to the Tutors' Association,
and the motion was formally discussed last night, and carried
by a largish majority. I hope to get a good deal of valuable
evidence, and on the side of moderate reform, without sweeping
measures upon the CoUeges en masse.
A pamphlet is coming out on the election by Sir S. North-

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 219
cote ; and the Provost has written a letter. The Bishop of
Oxford preached at St. Mary's yesterday a University sermon,
pronounced to be very useful for the under-graduates by the
FeUows and Masters. Lord Derby and the President are ex
changing pohte pieces of scholarship. The President sent him
a copy of a little tract, with an inscription in Latin, and Lord
Derby has sent the President a copy of Greek verses written
by himself on the President.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Oxford, February 16, 1853.
I carried my motion at the Tutors' Association on Monday,
by a majority of 14 to 5. The meeting was not so large a
one (there were three or four men who did not vote as I could
have wished), but large enough perhaps for the purpose,
especially as aU knew of the scheme, and therefore if they
stayed away could not have felt bostUe to it. So now we
must set to work. No committee is appointed yet ; that, I
understand, is my privilege to propose. I wish you would
think over any questions that may occur to you, and give us
the benefit of them. I must confess to a great hankering
after rather an audacious effort; fairly asking (the reason
might be modestly and solidly stated in a circular) the dis
tinguished merchants, manufacturers, attorneys, barristers, and
the representatives of the different professions in the country,
What are the wants they feel with respect to a University
education ? — Whether they want it at all for their young
men ? — What modification in the teaching of the place would
be required if they did want it ? — How much time could be
spared from business education ? I gathered from S. Denison's
evidence that there was a want felt of this kind by the
barristers. But really, after all the talk there has been for some
years about University extension, one feels one's-self almost
entirely in the dark as to how far it is really wanted and will
be taken advantage of. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Early this year there was a gathering at Oxford on the ques
tion of petitioning the Parliament against the University Bill.

220 Letters of the
To his Sister. Oxford, April 1, 1853.
I have been so much engaged in this last contest, that I
have not thought of anything else for the last week. Very
few of both sides have come up in proportion to the appeals
made. I have been against the petition. I think the bill,
on the whole, a good one, and there is no doubt that many
modifications will be made in Committee. Its postponement,
moreover, beyond this session would only have thrown the
University on a more uncertain future, with less favourable
administrators perhaps, and a reformed Parhament. Our
line was clearly for an early settlement of the question. . . .
The Bishop of Oxford was very nearly coming up to vote, and
only prevented by the advice of his friends. He has been
working up men. It is astonishing how impossible it is to
produce anything like a large gathering on the most important
question put before the University for two centuries. And yet
it is easily explained : everybody knows the mind of Govern
ment and Parliament is made up, and that either assent or
protest wUl not have any effect on the question of the bill
passing or not. Gladstone has been surprising everybody here
by the ubiquity of his correspondence. Three-fourths of the
CoUeges have been in communication with him, on various
parts of the bill more or less affecting themselves. He answers
everybody by return of post, fuUy and at length, quite enter
ing into their case, and showing the greatest acquaintance
with it.
Arthur came up at my summons, not on the whole sorry at
a little change from Hingbam, for a few days. — Yours,
J. B. M.
To his sister Elizabeth he writes of Lord Derby's Instal
lation : — June 15, 1853.
Dear Elizabeth, — My labours are not over, but are getting
thicker as they approach the close. Church is up for a few
days. Things are quiet again after all the bustle.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 221
Lord Derby is considered to have carried off the Installation
well. I attended his levee, and thought him certainly happy
in his air and manner. But he has no right to talk of smihng
and being a villain, for his face wrinkles into countless smiles
at a moment's notice out of the most sour basis. I saw his
reception of the Bishop of Oxford. At the levee a general
smile went the round of the crowd, and only one quotation was
in aU memories.1
Disraeli was the great lion; but that worthy Vice-
Chancellor at the Worcester dinner considered that the whole
assembly, nobles and commons, had come there for the express
purpose of hearing him talk on religion and morals; which
he did, on the most lenient computation, for two hours. So
DisraeU left without saying a word. Jeune, at the Pembroke
dinner, was equaUy lengthy, with the addition of coarseness ; as
a specimen, he gave as a toast " the Church, the Queen, and the
ladies of England ! " — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Oxford, November 15, 1853.
... I have not told you how much we all of us enjoyed
Scotland. There is such variety, the sea is a complete archi
pelago of smaU islands, many of them very fine in form, and
with fine mountains. A view from a height on a sunny day is
quite Grecian. Three of us, i.e. Arthur, young Kempe, and myself
went to Skye, which was great fun — both the scenery and the
characters we came across. The scenery is volcanic and Scandi
navian, huge yeUow mountains rising up with as sharp outlines a s
1 What occurred on the occasion of the Bishop's speech on the Canada
Clergy Reserves was as follows: — "Lord Derby moved an amendment to
the bill, and the Bishop of Oxford, speaking on the question, quoted Burke
as having said that the Americans became intractable whenever they saw
the least attempt to wrest freedom from them by force, or shuffle it from
them by chicane. Lord Derby having taken exception to these words, the
Bishop explained that the allusion was made with a smile, and was not
intended to be offensive. Lord Derby then retorted with quoting, ' A man
may smile and smile and be a villain.' Lord Clarendon came to the Bishop's
rescue. Lord Derby's amendment was lost by 40 votes. He afterwards
complimented the Bishop of Oxford on his power of taking a joke." — Life
of Bishop Wilberforce, vol. ii. p. 186.

222 Letters of the
if they were cut out of brown paper, and looking for all the world
like mountains on the stage. A cluster of them looked quite a
fit place for an Odin Hades, where giants dance among copper
kettles a mUe high. I should like to have a talk with you, and
compare Scotch with Grecian experiences of scenery. We are
moving slowly here, the Tutors' Association preparing a College
report ; the Heads very taciturn. No sign of the report yet.
I expect a tussle about the constitution point.
I do not envy you your task of reviewing Maurice in the
G., yet I have to do it in the C. R. It is a pity to see a man
losing himself and becoming a ruin, from a radical mistake of
thinking himself a philosopher. Some of the cut-up reviews did
much good in this way. They put down a man at the outset.
But Maurice has been petted and told he is a philosopher, till
he naturally thinks he is one. And he has not a clear idea in
his head. It is a reputation that, the instant it is touched, must
go like a card-house. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Oxford, Christmas Day, 1853.
My dear Church, — . . . So the first stone of the coalition is
beginning to loosen, or rather is already out. Lake has been
in London and seen Lawley, Gladstone's secretary, who is fierce
against the unpatriotic conduct of Lord P., and also talks of
Lord John's jealousy of the over proportion of work and power
in the hands of the Peelite section of the Cabinet. The
Eeform BiU is his point, having pledged himself to one just
before he was turned out. A report is going about to-day
here of Lord P.'s return to office — not a very credible one, I
suppose the Eeform BUI wiU be the first thing when Parliament
meets, and, as dissolution and fresh Cabinet depend on its fate,
there is, after aU, no knowing when our University matter
comes on. Have you seen the report of the Heads ? It is very
weak, partly from the Provost's not being well, and partly from
the awkward shape which was laid down for it by the Heads,
a running comment on the recommendations of the Commission.
So it is a sort of endless series of negatives and protests — very
little arguing or good statement. It is the only document, in
my recollection, in which they have treated the Masters with

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 223
due respect. On the eve of their own dissolution ! — a lesson to
oligarchies, if oligarchies ever received lessons, or there were
any oligarchies now — which there hardly are — to receive them.
In the uncertainties of all prospects, one naturally fastens on
the retributions which most gratify one's moral feelings.
Lake and Eawlinson have been seeing Gladstone. He is
very strong against the religious animus of the Commission,
but hints on more reconstruction than some of us like. Thus,
he will both reduce the number of Fellowships, and also alter
some of the others to terminable ones. No bill is as yet made
out, and only the beginnings are as yet under the attention of
Government. Jowett dined with Gladstone the other day, and
was disgusted to find him strong against the Commission, and
all the religious ideas in it, and talking against Locke and for
Butler ; that the loss of four Colleges would be less than that
of the Analogy — in fact, quite incorrigibly bigoted. This is
Lake's account — whose policy, by the way, rather is to impress
one with G.'s conservative religionism, and on Lake and
Eawlinson's side with G.'s collegiate reforms. . . . — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. January 23, 1854.
We are hkely to have for once an election without a con
test, every candidate having declined on the other side. I am
not, however, altogether contented with Sir W. Heathcote, and
should much have preferred Eoundell Palmer. The residents
as a body are in his favour, the general desire being here to
have distinguished men of some kind, who represent the spirit
of the age in its unblamable features. It is rather a relapse to
the country gentleman taking Sh W. H. However, he is Keble's
patron and friend, and a very excellent man. It is certainly
odd enough that, with every effort against it, Puseyites still get
possession of the University representation — now the whole of
it. . . . Eoundell Palmer was formally asked to stand by a
meeting of residents, and declined, in deference to the known
bias for Sir W. H. among his friends in London. A second

224 Letters of the
meeting asked him again ; he declined again. But even at a
third meeting a messenger was sent to lay the state of the case
before Sir W. H. His answer was, that personally he felt dis
posed to withdraw, but that his friends had a claim on him,
His friends advised him to stand, and so the matter ended.
The absence of a contest is a gain. Still I suppose we shall
have the rather uncomfortable reflection soon of Eoundell
Palmer making a good speech on University matters in Parlia
ment, and Sir William Heathcote a mediocre one, so that one
man will do the work and another have the honours.
Scott stayed a day here on his way to Cuddesden, where he
has been staying, consulting with the Bishop on Convocation
matters. They are in doubt as to their course. Archdeacon
Wilberforce was there, and attended two of the election meetings.
The Bishop is a friend of Sir WiUiam Heathcote. Scott seems to
get on with him very well, and is getting quite an amicus cwrim
of the episcopal bench; though to see him in his travelling
costume he is more like a foreign cavalry officer than an
Anglican ecclesiastic, clad in bearskins and cloaks of the highest
lay order. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Oxford, January 29, 1854.
My dear Church, — ... So we are to have no contest. This
is satisfactory, and justifies the return of Sir W. H., which I
should have been otherwise somewhat disposed to grumble at,
all my feelings being for E. Palmer. Why have you not come
up ? They have been expecting you at the Observatory.
We are in the midst of a College stir — a majority of one
having carried at a meeting that it was allowable to ask for
enabling powers to alter our statutes, in spite of the oath. I
was one of the majority. The oath to ask for no change in
statutes seems to me to be exactly on the same ground as the
oath to observe them ; and that if we interpret the one oath
liberally we may the other. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
Having the answer to this letter before me, I may use the
privilege to insert here a comment on the last paragraph :—

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 225
To J. B. M.
" Your view of the oath is one I should like to see worked
out. But it is to me a nasty subject, and there seems a
difference between an oath directed to one particular point and
an oath directed to a general matter comprehending a great
variety of multifarious points of unequal importance. But it
is clear that there ought to be some way out of a restriction
which stops all improvement."
The year 1854 ends with the death of the President of
Magdalen in his hundredth year.
To his Sister. Oxford, December 23', 1854.
You wUl have seen in the papers before receiving this the
death of our poor old President. Long as it has been before us,
it has rather taken us by surprise at last. He has been getting
gradually weaker for some time; but so gradually that he
seemed as if he might go on for another year or two. Last
Sunday a change was observed in him-; still he had his usual
party at dinner, and, though be did not come down to dinner,
saw them at tea. He was more sleepy than usual then. The
' next day he was worse, but on Tuesday revived so much that
Bloxam lost all immediate apprehension, and the President
himself said — " I think I shall be a little longer with you, Sir."
On Wednesday, however, the weakness returned and increased
till his physician, Dr. Jackson, thought it proper to call in Dr.
Acland, They both entirely gave him up. . . . When I went
to dinner in Common Eoom, however, on Thursday, I was
surprised to hear all at once that it was a matter of hours with
him. His head wandered a good deal till his death, with clear
intervals. On Thursday stimulants were given him to enable
him to do some little business that he had put off, but they
failed. He thought, among other things, that Cholmeley was
married, and had brought his wife to the President's lodgings,
and was anxious there should be a room for them. He had
little positive pain, but much uneasiness, which went off at last.
He is to be buried in chapel. He bad once intimated a desire
p

226 Letters of the
to be buried at Tylehurst, but bad never alluded to it for years,
and so his family have it in the CoUege. He has died, I hear,
without any will, but only some directions. Whether this is
delay, or no will was considered by him the best wiih I hardly
know. — Yours affectionately, J- B. M.
p,S — Johnson is the President of the. Astronomical Society
next year. Oxford, December 28', 1854.
My dear Church, — The funeral is to-morrow, and will be
largely attended. It is curious that the President left no will.
. . . The President has by a deed of gift given his library to
Durham, but the deed, though signed, has never been delivered ;
being brought to light for the first time after his death. So it
will probably be unsound. . . .
The President did not think he was going to die so soon,
but that he should linger. He was only in bed two days. He
was wandering a good deal of the time, and within five minutes
of his death was telling his old stories to an imaginary visitor
by bis side, whom he addressed every now and then in Ms
usual way, known to aU of us, " Do yon hear me, Sir ?" which
he generally said when he suspected the wandering of his
auditor. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M. ¦
Writing the last day of the year he adds- some further
particulars : —
More facts came out about the President, and his leaving no
will. A wiU had been actually drawn up, and only wanted his
signature when the last weakness came on and increased so
rapidly that even this could not be given. The will would
have left a large part of the property away from the family and
left it to charities. Mrs. Eouth is left with a very indifferent
jointure, the interest of £.12,000. — Yours affectionately, J. B.M
And in a letter dated January 16 : —
The President's library, after alii, goes to Durham. Counsel's
opinion was taken. What determined it in favour of Durham
seems to have been that; the. passing of the property to; a cor-

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 227
porate body would not have been any fraud upon Government,
as there is no tax in such a case. If the gift had been to an in
dividual, Government would have lost, by allowing the property
to pass under that form, the natural tax upon a will.
The foUowing letter, written after having been for ten years
thrown upon his own thoughts, and upon the natural bent of
his own mind and character,, wears a serious air — a full con
sciousness of taking a step. Of course, to those; near him, the
step was no surprise : —
To his Brother, John Mozley.
Oxford, January 1, 1855.
The beginning of a new C. R. quarter is a proper time for
my communicating to you a resolution which I have for some
time come to with regard to the Christian Remembrancer.
I find that after four years of reading, interrupted indeed,
but stiff carried on with some degree of system and consider
able thought, I have arrived at a change of opinion, more or less
modified, on some points of High Church theology ; but to a
very decided one with respect to a particular doctrine which
has been the theme of great dispute, and on which the party in
the Church which the C. R. professes to reflect has taken very
strongly one side : I mean the doctrine of Baptismal Eegenera-
tion. I now entertain no doubt of the substantial justice of the
Gorham decision on. this point.
I have too been engaged, as yon may know, on a book which
is now arriving at something like completion ; and part of which
wil express my views on this question, and enter into the
whole argument connected with it.
I do not think it right under such circumstances to have
anything more to do with the editing of the C. R. What I
have had indeed has been of an imperfect irregular kind, and
more belonging to the practice of an amicus curice. Yet it has
been enough to make me connected with the Eeview, in the
minds of that portion of the High Church party, and others to
whom my name happens to be known ;; and I do not feel that
in consistency I can continue it any longer,

228 Letters of the
I have written to Scott, some three weeks ago, to this effect.
Will you, when you next write to Clay, teU him the same, and
that be need not consequently send me any more proofs of the
Christian Remembrancer.
This intimation of mine will not perhaps much surprise you,
as yon may have seen that I have been for some time under
going a course of modification, and I think I have told you of
the particular point on which I find myself coming into colli
sion with the doctrines of the party.
PracticaUy I have no wish to separate myself from those
with whom I have hitherto acted. The Tractarian body is now
the one with which, on the whole, I most sympathise. Nor
does a modification on one or other point, or even a decided
difference, make much substantial alteration in my feeling
towards it. But when a particular doctrine has been made the
watchword, and people have been considered to take their sides,
according as they thought one way or another upon it, a dis
agreement with the party with which one has hitherto acted
upon it cannot be ignored by one's-self. It affects one's official
relations to the party, though one's present feehngs may remain
much as they were. It is now ten years since I commenced
my connection with C. R: I might make my reflections on the
advantages and disadvantages of it. It has made me write to a
certain extent. I do not anticipate, now that the connection is
over, that I shall do anything better with myself. Nor is my
own future much brighter than that I have been conjecturing
for the C. R. One' must act, however, upon certain acknow
ledged maxims, and take what steps are imposed upon one by
circumstances, or the course of one's own mind. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. February 4, 1855.
There is nothing to talk of but the weather, which is more
disagreeable than can be expressed, Oxford being peculiarly
susceptible to all the damp of a foggy, misty thaw. At St.
GUes's they have aU had colds, Miss Amelia Ogle adding to
her's a stiff neck, which obstructs her movements in that

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 229
quarter effectually, and impairs their natural grace ; for which it
substitutes however (I am speaking of stiff necks generally) an
unusual solemnity of manner ; for persons having to turn right
round when they speak to any one, the appearance gives to any
communication that of a formal and dogmatic appeal. . . .
I have informed Charles Marriott of my altered relations to
the C. R., and the reason ; to which he says, " For my part I
object more strongly to the tribunal than to the decision " — that
is, the Gorham decision — though he says he stiU does object to
it. If people, however, eannot use stronger language than this,
it seems te me that the ground for any strong separation of
parties in the Church is rather gone. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Oxford, February 11, 1855.
I have offered my book to Murray, who has accepted it. I
find I shall have to split my subject, and devote one volume to
Predestination and the questions connected with it, and another
to the application of the subject to the doctrine of Baptism. I
shall hope to get out the first before the Long, and the last by
the end of the year. They will be separate books. There is
one advantage in this division, that neither book will be por
tentous in size. The disadvantage is that there is not enough
interest concentrated in each, Predestination of itself being a
dry, crabbed subject, unconnected with any exciting feelings of
the day. As I do not know, however, of any book which has
formally gone into the subject in a fair spirit, there is room, I
think, for such a treatise. . . .
I have communicated to Eogers and Marriott my withdrawal
from the Christian Remembrancer, for which the reason is simply
this, that I find, after reading and reflection, that I accept
the Gorham decision, and that therefore, as the Tractarian
party has so strongly committed itself against that judgment,
both generaUy and specially by the protest of Pusey and its
other leaders, I can no longer retain an official or semi-official
connection with it, though one's private feelings towards indi
viduals and the body may be much the same as before. . . .

230 Letters of the
We are congratulating ourselves on Gladstone's continuing in
office. AU the world is rejoicing over Lord John Eussell. In-.
dependent of a triumph over an enemy, it is rather comforting
to see what great mistakes sagacious and experienced men may
make. — Yours affectionately, J- B. M.
March 22, 1855,
Things are more and more tending to Liberalism here. It is
a progress which nobody can stop. The Council is obhged,
though not itself Liberal, to join. The scientific Professorships
are most of them now only to have a mUd test of non-opposi
tion to the Church — no subscription. — Yours affectionately, J.B.M.
To his Sister. March 12, 1855.
The only piece of news that there is for the last week is
rather melancholy — the death of poor Craufurd, elder brother
of the Ogles' brother-in-law. From the first moment they heard
of his going to the Crimea, the Ogles in fact gave him up. He
was not the least in a fit state of health to go, with a diseased
liver, great propensity to rheumatism, and such general delicacy
that he was always Ul in England. However, his regiment being
ordered out, he could not stay behind, or sell out. The first day
be landed in the Crimea be had to sleep in the open air. But
this passed off at the time better than be expected. However,
a bilious fever shortly commenced, he was sent to Scutari, and
there died. Such is the end of this heir of an old family and
good estate, so little good have his social advantages been to
him. He was at the marriage of his brother, and was much
liked — handsome and gentlemanly.
Elizabeth is to be at the Ogles' to-day, and I go to dine
there.1 — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
1 My sister Elizabeth was at this time living with my brother Tom in
London, and her letters contain many very interesting reports on the subject
of the war ; on the mismanagement of which my brother's London friends
were so outspoken. She writes of what she hears, and testifies to the honesty
of tone, to the absorbing feeling that prevailed amongst all with whom my
brother was associated, and the intensity in his own case. Answering the
attacks on The Times for its tone, she writes : — " The line of The Times may

&

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 231
To Eev. E. W. Church. Oxford, May 17, 1855.
... I have been dragging on through my opus since I last
wrote, and now it is, I am glad to say, very near a conclusion.
The book, I confess, is not what would be popularly called in
teresting, but if it establishes a point I shall be quite satisfied.
My sisters Elizabeth and Fanny have been severally visiting the
Ogles lately. The latter is here now, and I am giving a musical
entertainment to amuse her. She has been for the last year
nearly in constant attendance upon my mother during her ill
ness ; and she wants, in consequence, setting up again ; and a
little gaiety does her good. . . . Yours, J. B. M.
To J. B. M.'s announcement of the approaching conclusion
of his labours, be received the foUowing reply : —
Eev. E. W. Church to J. B. M. May, 1855.
My dear Mozley, — I congratulate you on the conclusion of
your book. I have followed it, with great interest, sheet by
sheet. It seems to me to have brought out very clearly the
fact of the double and parallel lines of ideas, and to have con
fronted them with great distinctness and power. The subject
is one which, I suppose, is not likely to tempt lazy readers.
But you have not written for them. It makes one feel how
one goes on, taking things for granted, both as principles and
explanations, and as facts. I am very glad you worked the
point weU, about our ignorance. I never should be a meta-
be mistaken; it is a question of judgment how far it is wise to act on the
accumulation of complaints that pour in upon them, but that they do come,
and from quarters that must know, there is no doubt. Tom is quite sick
with the accounts sometimes. People have such mysterious ideas of motives
that influence The Times, whereas they often seem the simplest in the world ;
... I really think in this case a strong feeling that it must be done, and
that a reform in the army is necessary. People feel so differently. Mr.
Fraser [now Bishop of Manchester] wrote to Tom enthusiastically on their
courage in laying the blame where every one felt it must be due, but dared
not say." Each letter has passages in the same strain, on the same engross
ing theme, sometimes reporting bitterer language, which, after all, subsequent
hiBtory justifies.

232 Letters of the
physician; but the way in which assumptions excite no question,
and people go on spinning arguments as if the whole of the
invisible world was as easy to be understood as the theory of the
steam-engine, has long been one of my standing wonders. . . .
I am glad that you have brought out so strongly the two-
sided character of all our means of knowing, and the fact, that
what we know in religious matters is but the tendency to
know. The idea of perfect and absolute knowledge, which is
involved in so much of what is said and taught on aU sides,
becomes daily more and more unendurable to me. — Ever
yours affectionately, E. W. C,
To his Sister. Oxford, June 5, 1855.
What with Fanny being the correspondent while she was
here, and my being in London, it seems quite long since I wrote
to Derby. I had an agreeable week in London. The dinner
at the Literary Fund passed off, owing to the Bishop of Oxford's
spirited chairmanship, weU enough. He certainly does every
thing with great go. Whately made an egotistical speech in
celebration of his own liberality and judgment in his mode of
patronising poor authors. Sir A. Alison was washy and flat,
something like his book style. Neate made an elaborate speech,
with a good deal of choice phraseology in it, which he had
evidently prepared with care. It was aU summed up in The,
Times as — -" The Eev. Mr. Neate proposed Sir A. Alison's health
in a neat speech." . . . — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Malvern, August 27, 1855.
I thought you would like to hear about Mr. and Mrs. Charles
Dyson. It was seventeen years since I had seen either of
them — not since that dinner-party at Tidworth, to which we
went from Cholderton. Mr. C. Dyson is looking exactly the
same that he always did, the alteration being that his hair has
grown quite white. The contrast between the two brothers is
as strong as ever. We had a very pleasant talk over various
subjects, Oxford principally, and the recent changes in it, the
war, Gladstone, etc. It is remarkable how an elegant and

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 233
accomplished mind, as Mr. C. Dyson's is, overcomes the dis
advantage of so plain a face. He is a very neat talker, and
has all the courtesy and smoothness of the old school. It is
pleasant to see two brothers sticking so close together through
life. They differed about Gladstone, Mr. F. Dyson being scan
dalised by his course in the Jew BUI ; but Mr. C. Dyson seeming
inclined to go along a good way with him even in bis war
views. ... It was a mere domestic meeting.
I never mentioned my evening with the M.s, where I met
L. and his wife. We had a regular pohtical and House of
Commons talk; all sorts of gossip, such as floats about the lobby.
M. describes Disraeli as popular with the younger members of
his party in the House — very social and companionable, not
stiff. The position of the Peelites is considered wretched and
irremediable, and the Opposition glory over it. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
Towards the end of 1855, J. B. M. was elected member of the
newly constituted Council. To his Sister. October 26, 1855.
Thank you for congratulations on my new honours. There
are, however, various reasons which must prevent my feeling
altogether like the Head of a House. One is rather the fungus
growth of a democratic movement, and probably the old Heads
look upon me as a squire would look upon a respectable
tradesman from the neighbouring town who had settled himself
in his village. I can tell you nothing of my duties or experi
ence of office yet, having had none. At the time when the
news of my promotion reached me, I was just going to dinner
in HaU, and so could not attend the first meeting pro forma
of the Board, which was immediately after the election. The
whole election was very quiet, no disclosing of the poll as it
went on, and so no room for electioneering changes or combina
tions. . . . Cholmeley, the Proctor, described the first meeting
of the Board at five o'clock, by candle-light in a dark room,
as more like a cave of brigands than a council-room. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.

234 Letters of the
To his Sister. February 1, 1856..
I am preparing a book, not a large one, for the press — a wind-
up of my subject; after which my theological labours will rest
— at any rate, probably, for some time to come. The title of it
will be The Primitive Doctrine of Baptismal Begeneratim.
... It will be an easy book, and only the development of
one very simple position.
Shoreham wUl probably be settled in a few weeks, by which
time it will have come down to me. The probability is that
it wilL I have hardly yet begun to realise the change it
wiU bring upon me, and hope I shall not be seized with
qualms and nervous fears about leaving a plaee I have lived
in so long. The principal consideration is, after all, that,
whether one goes or stays, change is necessary ; and one can
not be the same in the future that one has been in the past.
So that any sudden change of this kind is less really a change
than it appears to be.
I am reading Macaulay. It is a new style of history, and
open to criticism on that ground. But it is very wonderful the
way in which he weaves all his innumerable detaUs into the
fabric, and brings in everything in its right place. I think he
puffs and blows too indiscriminately about all events great and
small, and that this destroys his perception often of the relative
importance of events. Thus he compares the battle of Killi-
crankie in Scotland with that of Newton-Butler in Ireland, the
latter being a very insignificant event compared with the former.
His show-up of the Non-jurors is severe. On the whole, I find
myself ready to agree with him in the main. It seems to me
so very few of those movements which are attended with a
certain romance, and so bias one in their favour for a time, will
bear examination. There is often some gross offence against
common sense in them, which was specially the case in the
Non-juring movement.
Did I say in my last that I had met Elwyn, the editor of the
Quartmiy, an agreeable, very well informed man, and a fluent
talker. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 235
To a friend whom he was advising to stand for the Taylorian
Professorship : — March 28, 1856.
With respect to the philological element, it appears to be
plain from the wording of the statute that philology and litera
ture are placed on an equal footing. Now, they will never get
Professors to represent them both — that is, adequately. Indeed
there is a kind of opposition in the two tastes. I mean that the
same person who went into the spirit of a literature would not
ordinarily be the person to investigate the phUological basis of
language. So that one or other element must always be in
some degree unrepresented.
As for the work, Max Muller laughs at the idea, the vacation
seven months of the year affording such ample time. I think
that with respect to health even a good deal of work is by no
means detrimental to it, so long as it is work congenial to a
person's mind. What wears men is immoderate work and
uninteresting work. There appears to me a real stimulus in
interesting work to the health. I mean that if you are at all
reluctant to face the prospect on this ground, this is a considera
tion that ought to be taken into account. — Yours,
J. B. M.
On Mr. Wheeler resigning Sboreham, then consisting of both
Old and New Sboreham, the College divided the living ; and
Old Shoreham coming down to James Mozley, he accepted it,
and, in July 1856, married Amelia, third daughter of Dr. Ogle,
Eegius Professor of Medicine, and twin sister of Carohne,
wife of Mr. Johnson, the Observer; settling at once at Old
Shoreham, to which he and his wife became greatly attached,
and where, I may add, they were much beloved.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, September 9, 1857.
I don't think any communication has passed between us
since the three days you were here. Since then we have been

236 Letters of the
at Derby, Manchester, the Lakes, and Oxford, having previously
too heard the Handel at the Crystal Palace. We returned
five weeks ago, and shall now be quiet for a long time to come.
Manchester was as agreeable a gallery of pictures as I ever
saw ; pleasant pictures to look at, good light, airy, etc. We
were there four days. My sister Anne came with us. We
took it leisurely, but not wasting our time. I was astounded,
however, at the end of it to see, on looking over the catalogue,
what a small proportion of the pictures I had even looked at — I
think, on a most favourable estimate, not more than an eighth.
Of that small proportion, how many I shaU retain is another
question. It was said the Manchester operatives did not patronise
the place, but there was a good proportion of the common
sort of people there.
I was glad to get a sight of the King of the Belgians; a
quiet, shrewd-looking man, with the air of a gentleman, but
not the least of a king; not an unpleasant countenance,
showing considerateness, and the better characteristics of a
man of the world. He seems to have managed their late
rows in Belgium with great adroitness.
We were much pleased with the Lakes, especiaUy Derwent-
water. Grasmere, notwithstanding its high Wordsworthiari
reputation, is a little too small and basin-like. A great
bulky hotel too on the margin, just built, obstructs your eye.
Fox-Howe, Arnold's place (where Mrs. A. lives now), is rather
too shut up for my taste. Wordsworth's house, where his
widow now lives, is a respectable, rather ancient, sash- windowed
one, not unlike an oldish parsonage of the more secular class ;
not pretending to the Gothic or ecclesiastic style. His old
gardener described his nocturnal recitations of his own poetry,
which had the effect of several persons talking. This rush of
voices would pass his cottage about ten o'clock at night, as
Wordsworth was returning from his late walk. . ¦ . .
What a horrid exhibition of humanity this Indian Mutiny
is ! It will of course end in a tighter English rule than ever.
Only think of the nonsense of having allowed these natives a
free press ! How far will people not carry a theory ? On the
whole, with all its horrors, this row has its satisfactory results,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 237
as being an unconscious justification of our position in India,
showing that we are necessary for the people there. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.

In September of this year, while on a visit at Shoreham, Dr.
Ogle was taken suddenly ill, and died there. The following
letter relates to certain claims the Eegius Professorship of
Medicine had in the Ewelme Hospital, which, in the interests
of the family, J. B. M. undertook to represent to Lord West-
bury, then Attorney-General : —
To his Sister Elizabeth. November 20, 1857.
I had an interview by appointment with the Attorney-
General about the Ewelme affair. I had had some notes from
him before, in which he plainly acknowledged the injustice of
the former offer made, but referred to some steps which had
been taken under the former Attorney- General, which there
would be some difficulty in undoing. On calling, he gave me
a very clear, lucid statement of the whole case, never stopping
or retracing a step from beginning to end, just as if he were
reading it out of a book. The upshot is, it will have to
go through two legal references to Judge in Chambers, the
result of which wiU be, in all human probabiUty, that we shall
get the whole six years' salary, amounting to £1500. After
his statement, he began to talk about University matters, re
form, extension ; talked about his own academical life, having
gone up at fourteen and maintained himseh wholly at seventeen
and a half old, or his father could not have kept him there. He
remembered Dr. Ogle, but was a good deal his senior in Uni
versity standing. He commented on the free-and-easy air of
the present race of under-graduates, and was highly disgusted at
the pretensions of Balliol in setting up a competitive examina
tion for admission, the result of which had been disastrous to
one of his own sons. There was a formality about his voice
and pronunciation, but none in the substance of his conversa-

238 Letters of the
tion. As he did not appear to have suffered much from certain
remarks, I felt quite easy, and had no particular qualms,—
Yours affectionately, J. Bt M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, January 1858.
Arthur has been here a few days ; be is quite a London
clergyman now in his general acquaintance with things, in
the London Church-world. He goes, about a good deal to
morning meetings, evening meetings, to coffee and Scripture
expositions at F. Maurice's, conferences on subjects of the day
at the rectory, St. James's, etc. etc. He describes Liberalism
as considerably advancing in some clerical quarters, especially
on the subject of the Atonement, which is a complete
bugbear to many. . . . Thought seems to be going in this
direction lately, probably stimulated by Jowett's book just
now, though Maurice has long taken this line. Indeed, S. T.
Coleridge set the example. . . .. Maurice, as I said,, gives
sohe'es, which are generally attended by some twenty of the
younger clergy. He sits at a table with a Bible, and is asked
questions upon difficulties, etc. His general line is to resolve
everything into vagueness. To his Sister Fanny.
Shoreham, May 11, 1858.
... I heard Lord Palmerston at, the Literary Fund dinner.
I had never heard him speak. His: speaking is a curious
combination of perpetual hesitation, with a perfect type' of the
whole thing he is going to say — the construction of the sen
tence and everything — in his head. With his continual hesita
tion he yet never goes back a single step that be has. made,
but proceeds regularly on till the whole is complete. He is
very cboice in bis words, and almost Addisonian — selecting
the simplest, and never treating you to that fat, pulpy stuff
which some speakers do. For a hesitating speaker, too,, he
has' one remarkable characteristic, which is, that his sen
tences axe very long and his constructions rather involved.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 239
This makes his slow mastery of the work as it goes along the
more remarkable. His appearance has very little in it ; one
might take him for anybody — a. respectable grocer or alderman
got up in good evening dress. He has nothing intellectual or
aristocratic about him. He is stouter than I expected. The
Times, only gave his heavy speech on literature, and left out
his lighter speeches, which were clever and characteristic. . . .
—Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, November 1, 1858.
, . . We go to Oxford for a fortnight the middle of this
month. The Observer has quite made up his mind to take a
regular holiday next year in the shape of a Continental tour, of
a half-business character, just sufficiently so to be amusing ;
visits to observatories, confabs with astronomers. . . . Gold-
win Smith's duel with Froude is amusing. I suppose Froude's
answer will be considered by his own friends rather good. I
thought the tone of his [G. S.'s] article too supercilious, consider
ing that Froude, whatever theory he may maintain on some
subjects, has worked, and made solid additions to history, which
are acknowledged. A man who writes simply as a critic, and
with the great advantage of not having written any book him
self, ought not to use bis vantage ground too unsparingly, or
forget that if he came to write a history himself, he too might
come under the influence of some new theory or other.
They (at Finchampstead) see something of Kingsley. Tom
Bays, there is effort in his conversation and preaching, though
very clever. His description was that he preached as if he was
wrestling with an evil spirit. Keble has been preaching at St.
Paul's. The sermon seems to have created a great sensation,
though not having the advantage of being beard by more than
a small part of the congregation. . . . — Yours, J. B. M.
Oxford, December 13, 1858.
My dear Church,: — We have been making a longer stay
here than we intended. It is the first time that I have reaUy
seen anything of Oxford since my departure, though I have

240 Letters of the
been up several times for different reasons. Things look veiy
unchanged except in Heads: everything very quiet. It is
curious how completely controversy, in the Tractarian sense,
has left Oxford — no allusion to it ever, even the most remote.
What controversy there is, is wboUy in the phUosophical;
sphere. Mansel's Bampton Lectures are criticised a good deal.
Wilson describes it as an attempt to defend orthodoxy on
Kantian principles, and says that Chretien, Goldwin Smith,
etc., do not like his ground. I have just looked into them.
They seem to me to put forward the absolute unintelligi-
bility of the Divine nature — even Divine moral character — too
nakedly. This is his answer to the moral objection to the
Atonement, Abraham's sacrifice, etc. : You do not know what
Divine morals are. What Wilson' says is, This breaks up the
whole basis of revelation ; and, how are you to argue with the
Hindoo upon his immoral gods ? — he will tell you, Divine
morals are different from human. I give- you the criticisms
as I hear them. It appears to me to be one of those cases in
which a man has been too confident of the' strength of some
grand general dictum, and has rested everything upon it,
expressed in the boldest and most unqualified way. . . .
We have been out almost every day. At homes are the order
of the day. The Vice-CbanceUor gives crowded ones, as well as
a succession of dinners. It is rather convenient for me who
want to see everybody. I have had a long confab with Stanley
— the very first I ever had with him. He has a generous
desire to hear what everybody has to say, and made me de
velop myself on the subject of Luther, Justification by faith,
a great crux of bis [Stanley's], the Law, etc. I responded as
well as I could. He is getting up the Arian subject, and has
a sort of scheme in his bead of separating the Arianism of the
early times from that of later, on the ground of its (the former)
dealing with the remote and mystical part of the subject —
the eternal generation — while the latter comes into direct col
lision with the ' historical Christ." I did not quite under
stand his distinction, or rather I did and did not think it
tenable, as I told him ; for the person of the " historical
Christ " and of the mystical one, or eternal Son, are the very

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 241
same, and what you say of one you say of the other. I thought
the idea rather Stanleyan.1 He is a pleasant person to talk
to, and one has a great deal in common with him.
How are you now? etc. etc. Eemember we return home
next Saturday. — Yours affectionately, J, B. M.

Shoreham, February 28, 1859.
My dear Church,— You will most probably have heard
the sad news from Oxford before this reaches you. Johnson
died quite suddenly this evening. A telegraphic message
reached us here at half-past ten, about three hours after the
event. It was a complaint of the heart. I need not say what our
feelings are. We start by the earliest train in the morning to
Oxford. I was given to understand when I was in Oxford, by
one of the doctors, in what direction the complaint was ; but,
though I felt alarmed at the time, there was nothing to show
immediate danger ; and one hears of those complaints going
on for years.
This is of course a tremendous blow to all one's Oxford
reminiscences, and makes everything quite different to look
back upon. No one has been more completely identified with
all that one has lived through for the last twenty years, than
Jphnson. At the same time, I almost feel a sort of impossi
bility in realising these very sudden losses. — Yours affection
ately, J. B. M.
1 Referring to this conversation there is a letter from Mr. Stanley, dated
Christ Church, November 16, 1800 :—
" Mv deak Mozley, — I am on the point of publishing some lectures on the
Nicene Council, in which I should much like to make use of what struck me
as a very powerful defence of the Athanasian doctrine, or rather attack on
the Arian doctrine, that you made to me when last I saw you in Oxford,
viz., the simplicity of the Divine and human as opposed to the unphilo-
sophical mythological elements which would have been introduced into
theology by the notion of an Exalted iEon, Angel, etc. etc. etc., as advocated
by Arius.
" May I ask whether you have published such a statement in a form in
which 1 could refer to it, or if not, whether you would object to my express
ing my obligation to yon for the argument. — Yours faithfully, " A. P. Stanley."
Q

242 Letters of the
The following letter gives bis thoughts on the death of a
f amUy friend of his whole life : —
To his Sister. April 14, 1859.
I had seen Mr. Wayland's death in The Times before your
note came. Your previous account of him, or rather his own
account of his great weakness, had of course prepared one in some
degree for the news. It has been, as you say, so very gradual
a process, that the end came with as little change or surprise
as it could do. Mr. Wayland was always to me a most pleas
ing person to think of. There was a finish about him which
was not only external, but was reaUy the expression of his
inner self and true character. The perfect resignation with
which he acquiesced during his whole life in the situation of a
mere country clergyman, or in what is vulgarly called being
" buried," without having anything even in his thoughts beyond
it, was really a picture in its way in these pushing days, —
though all days, I suppose, are equaUy pushing. Mr. Way-
land's was the nicest form of a really humble man ; there was
not the slightest show of humUity, but you found it out
practically by nothing of the contrary kind ever coming out.
I have always felt a great attachment to him, and should like
much to have seen a great deal more of him than I did, but
deafness is a serious obstruction. Except in the actual fanuly
circle, it seems to make all communication almost more or less
necessarily artificial, and makes conversation quite a different
thing. It was a particular misfortune in Mr. Wayland's case,
for no one defect could have deprived so very social a person
so completely of his principal ordinary pleasures as that did.
Yet it is remarkable how perfectly he accommodated himself
immediately to it, and made reading serve the purpose of
recreation instead.
It is curious to compare his career with that of bis contem
porary [and early friend,] our Bishop. I consider our Bishop a
good specimen of the class that "gets on;" he has always
taken things quietly and never pushed. And yet, if you com
pare the two lives. I very much doubt whether Mr. Wayland

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 243
has not, after aU, got a greater quantity of natural happiness
out of Ufe than the latter. Three-fourths of the life of these
dignitaries is passed in buckram, interchanging civUities or
attentions which do not bring the mind into play, and might
be done by automatons properly constructed. There is a sort
of pleasure in the general consciousness that yon are a great
man, but, that aUowed, the rest is really not life in any true
sense. Whereas Mr. Wayland always seemed to me greatly
to enjoy life in the best sense. When he was reading a good
novel, for example, he was reaUy living while his successful
friend was acting some formality or other. Some persons
seem naturahy to develop into a sort of personified ceremonial
— it is their destiny.
I find it very difficult to express my whole idea of Mr.
Wayland, and yet I feel that bis character has made a deep
impression on me, and that, even when quite young, I in
voluntarily always thought a great deal of him. One reason, I
think, is that he never spoiled any of his good qualities as
so many good people do. They bad all the advantage of being
correctly represented, not pushed too far, or made hobbies or
conceits of. For example A. B., the other day, made the
remark that be never could like X., and be could not find
out why, except it was that he was always thrusting his
honesty into your face ; a quality, by the way, which I do not
know that he possesses to a greater extent than other people.
But Mr. Wayland's good taste — or rather real naturalness of
character — kept everything in its place, and yet there was a
decided danger on the sentimental side if he had gone off in
that direction. As it was, I think it was the sentiment — not
sentimentality — in him which contributed to the general effect
of his character more than anything else. It was the true
thing as it ought to be, and not swelled out. There was a
great deal of real phUosophy about him, a true estimate of hfe, a
way of taking things easily, as if they were to be expected. He
had the good points of a man of the world. I think myself
this is a rare character — at least I do not know many of it —
what is called the man of the world " in a good sense." It
is a very attractive character wherever met with. Our old

244 Letters of the
President had a good deal of it. It inspires a sort of confid
ence. You feel that your toes will not be trodden on in the
course of the next hour. You know at any rate that he has
not any divine commission to make himself unpleasant. There
was a great deal of the softening effect of experience in Mr.
Wayland, and there was a repose which is usually considered
to be the accompaniment of rank where the person has never
had to make efforts, and so never been in the way of form
ing restless or fidgety manners.
On the whole, I look upon his as a very valuable type of
character, and the more so because so very pleasing a type.
I like to have such an image before me, and am sure that as
long as I live it always wiU be a pleasure to me to think of
Mr. Wayland. If any of you are writing to Mrs. Solly [Mr.
W.'s eldest living daughter], please give her my condolences
and sympathy. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, June 10, 1859.
. . . What do you think of the prospect of a new Ministry
and the £5 borough franchise ? Democratically it is a great
step downwards. So Sidney Herbert is at last a declared
Liberal. I suspect a httle ambition in him. He seems now to
stand next to Lord Palmerston and Lord John EusseU, who
must before very long move off the scene ; so that, on the
principle on which the Premiership is sometimes disposed of,
being given to a sensible man of tact, under whom others are
willing to serve — as in Lord Aberdeen's case — he may be the
head of the Government not long hence. It is odd to see the
. old thing going on — the superficial flexible man rising, while
Gladstone is apparently going down. . . . July 4, 1859.
My dear Church,— Cobden's refusal of office has a touch of
magnanimity about it. I suppose he won't take it without his
friend Bright, and considers it a point of honour. I dare say,
too, he is not sorry to show a set of exclusives who look down

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 245
upon his class as purchaseable with certainty — if only they can
lower their fastidious taste to swallow them — that he can do
without it. From what I heard the other day from a cousin of
his in Brighton, be appears to be setting up as a quiet Sussex
country gentleman, buying land about his moderate paternal
inheritance, which he bought back again, and building a new
house on it.
It was a new fact to me to hear that he had had an uncle of
his own name, once a Dean of St. Paul's.1 He is not the sort of
man whom one would suppose had connections in the Church.
I suppose Cobden's refusal does not augur very well for the
present Ministry's permanence. But a snatch of office is as
much as any one expects now-a-days. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
Shoreham, October 18, 1859.
My dear Church, — I am glad to hear you enjoyed your
hobday and are the better for it. We have had our house full
all the summer, and have been by ourselves now for more than
a month. ... I come across old faces occasionally — the Bishop
of Oxford, at the Sussex Archaeological, a month ago. He
seemed much altered and thinner. Hook presided — a good
speaker, and thoroughly self-possessed.
That review of Jowett in The Times — except on the audacious
principle, which often teUs — seems rather a mistake in judgment;
the puff overdone, and the ground not judiciously taken. If
the letter of Scripture is a veil, and Christianity is Jowett
behind the veU, one does not feel very secure. It is curious
to see two totally opposite schools talking of the difficulty of
interpreting Scripture. But really this aboriginal Christianity
which Jowett and his reviewer dig up beneath no end of strata,
is as perfect an arcanum discipline as ever was invented by
tradition. Criticising as a looker-on, I do not, I must say, see
much skill in the way in which the controversy has been con-
1 The Dr. Cobden referred to was born in 1684, and might therefore be
Mr. Cobden's great-great-uncle. He became chaplain to Bishop Gibson, a
Prebendary of St. Paul's, Archdeacon of Middlesex, and Chaplain in Ordinary
to George n. He published a volume of poems, and another of sermons.

246 . Letters of the
ducted against him. Mansel's seems to me a blunder, though
a clever blunder ; and his, I suppose, is the best. The answer
on the Atonement question especially, I should say, had been
much mismanaged. When Jowettism recedes — as, in common
with other fashions, it will before long — it will be before the
grand vis inertice, rather than controversy. . . .
I met old Badeley in the Temple the other day, and went
up for balf-an-hour to his rooms, looking exactly the same as
if it was yesterday I was in them ; and he too, though I
thought I detected a little melancholy in his air. I think he
must miss his old cosy society and the traditions of his youth.
He was quite Tory in his political talk. . . . Yours affection
ately, J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, November 2, 1859.
If you read novels it is quite worth your while reading Guy
Livingstone, as a disclosure of a sort of life and standard rather
different from our own particular one. It is striking, and has
great beauties here and there ; but the main feature to me was
the coarse, insolent pharisaism of the fashionable, hard-living
set, who ride at everything, gamble, drink, etc. etc. I should
have thought this antiquated. They are such tremendous
swells of virtue on their own standard — sort of gods ; and the
author sympathising with it aU and thinking it the thing : such
rampant braggadocios, such insolent contempt of everybody
whose happiness does not arise from a self-glorifying, bodily
courage, rejoicing in the most vicious brutes, horses or men, as
its material. It is the grandest crow over everybody, and I can
only compare it — in dissimili materia — very dissimilar certainly
— to the crowing of W. G. W. and Company, some dozen years
ago, to the Pharisees and other respectable people. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
Shoreham, April 2, 1860.
I am just returned from a visit to Derby, where I have been'
spending two days, while my wife was in Oxford. I left them

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 247
all in spirits at Harry's having got the Newcastle. The
victor brought down the news himself, which he bore with
proper Eton magnanimity. John, the second brother, was very
near getting it last year, but just failed, and was medallist. I
took Frank Faber on my way to Derby, whom I had not seen
for nine years. I found him very Uttle altered, and abounding
in the same interests and good stories ; also particularly proud
of a triumph he had just gained over all the established coaches
in Oxford. A man who had to be got through the law school
had baffled every resident artist. At length, as a last resource,
A. F, of New College, sent him to his uncle, who, summon
ing all his old vigour in that line, got up Blackstone for the
express occasion, and hammered it into the man so success-
fuUy that he passed through with Mat to the astonishment of
everybody. I have begun to read the new volume of essays from the
Advanced School. I think it is a mistake their having con
nected themselves with Baden Powell. B. P. is certainly a
cool fellow, the impossibility of miracles being his avowed con
clusion now, put forward as a mathematical truth, which
whoever does not see by intuition is simply defective in the
rational faculty, and is unable to pass the Ass's Bridge of philo
sophy. He does not add to the ethical pretensions of the
school. ... I am a little disappointed with the intellectual
merits of the compositions, as far as one is judge from turning
over pages here and there, which perhaps one is not.- — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.

To the Same. June 6, 1860.
We had a very pleasant Oxford visit. It is a nice thing to
see your acquaintances from time to time, especiaUy when so
conveniently collected as at Oxford, without too long intervals.
It keeps up the continuity like a dotted line. Yet it is always
rather hard work spending a week in a place after an interval
of absence. I had rather a long talk with B., who was rather
strong as to the Jowett element in Oxford, and the narrow line

248 Letters of the
between it and positive infidelity. He was for renovating the
Paley argument, which he thought had been much depreciated.
Altogether things look as if there was to be an Evidence battle
over again. . . . One feels after a stay in Oxford a twinge
sometimes at a sort of involuntary hypocrisy one has carried
on ; first seeing one person and then another — orthodox and
heresiarchs — and agreeing with everybody as much as one can.
. . . Gold win Smith lectured on Eaces, starting with a hit at
Matthew Arnold's view in a recent lecture. Nothing very
original, but capital writing. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Eev. E. W. Church to J. B. M.
Whatley Eectory, February 22, 1861.
Dear Mozley, — ... So the row is begun about Essays and
Reviews. Do you know who wrote in the Quarterly! Such
things generally come out, but all I have heard is that S. 0.
disclaims it. I have not seen it, but I hear it galls. AU these
addresses, and circulation of extracts, and condemnations are
of course inevitable. But it is uncomfortable work. One
remembers how these things used to be done in former days.
There is of course a certain coarse justice in such proceedings.
There is a spirit and tendency about the book, as there was in
Hampden and the Oxford movement, which is undeniable,
whatever may be said about garbled extracts. And I suppose
that it is quite possible and likely that a heavy blow may be
dealt to the opinions — a much heavier than the writers dreamt
of provoking. But unless there is also a strong argumentative
answer to them, it is such mere provisional work. People will
go on asking these same questions, and raising these same
difficulties, and there is so much unfairness mixed up with and
encouraged in these mere condemnations that really I revolt
from it all. I certainly dislike the Essays and Reviews very
much, for raising horrible difficulties which they seem to me
to do nothing to relieve, but simply slur over, as B. Powell
does about miracles and science. But I am afraid that the row
wUl prevent for the present any quiet and hopeful pursuing of
these questions, and certainly I should like to see some of them

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 249
more fully examined, and even the real limits of the danger
precisely drawn .... Ever yours affectionately, E. W. C.

To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, March 11, 1861.
My dear Church, — I feel much the same with respect to
Essays and Reviews that you do. It goes against the grain to
join an assaUing mass.
Baden Powell spoils whatever element of truth there may be
in his view by the desperate pell-mell hurry he is in, giving
himself no time to distinguish. His view of course admits
of the Scripture miracles being true as facts, though not as
miracles — i.e. mutations of law. But he nowhere expressly
states their truth as facts. It is all jumble and confusion when
he comes to this point, which is of course the turning-point of
the whole ; " a region of faith," as he calls it (i.e. not of sight,
as he must expect to be interpreted) — not of real fact.
It certainly appears to me tbat belief in miracles is upon an
assumption; I mean the assumption of a personal Deity. Butler
makes this assumption, which is strictly one of faith. But to
believe in a miracle upon an assumption of faith is not counter
to believing it as a fact of actual occurrence ; for if the assump
tion is true, that which rests upon it is true, and true in its own
sphere— viz., as a fact. B. P.'s tacit argument is that a thing is not
•a fact, because it rests upon a ground of faith in addition to
that of ordinary testimony. However, all this is very puzzling.
It does not seem to me that our divines were fully conscious of
the immense assumption they were making when they assumed
the existence of a God in these senses as the basis of the defence
of miracles. It seems to me to be assuming everything ; be
cause if you suppose a Deity of such a nature as to interfere in
human affairs, what difficulty is there in the fact of such an
interposition ? No man of sense would raise a question about
it, if the testimony was good. The whole difficulty is in what
the Bible assumes — a Deity of a particular nature and character
—and not in its facts. For why on earth should not an ass
speak, if there is some one to make it ? But how do we get at

250 Letters of the
the nature of such a Deity ? By faith. Yes, but natural faith.
I suppose upon evidence. What is the evidence ? That is
the difficulty. Everybody for years pas has been giving up
evidence, instead of applying it ; " We can do without this and
that and the other." The Paley argument of design is given
up; miracles of course assume and do not prove it. Then what
is evidence? It appears to me that people are very much at
sea on this point. The Provost can, when he is forced, make a
tremendous gulp of a disagreeable mouthful, but the process is
terrible to look at. . . . I should think the Principal of Jesus'
view of miracles in their metaphysical aspect would rather
puzzle that very respectable but not ultra phUosophical body,
Convocation. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — An absolute repose here must apologise for an argumen
tative letter, which is a very poor substitute for a " newsy " one.
To his Sister. March 20, 1861.
The excitement about Essays and Reviews still keeps up.
The best way of treating such a book would of course be for
everybody to hold his tongue ; but one knows this is practi
cally impossible, because people have the irresistible impulse
to testify. And if some testify, others must. The writers of
course go great lengths, but I think even they would shrink
from what their theology would practically become if taken up
by the mass. That is simple infidelity, and indeed atheism ;
for Baden Powell's essay, popularly interpreted, could be
nothing else. A few subtle intellects may maintain really
to themselves a neo-Christian ground, retaining something of the
Scriptural system, but a congregation of such spirits is an
impossibility. To his Sister. May 23, 1861.
So the Bishop of Salisbury [Hamilton] is going to bell the
cat. As a High Church Bishop he saves his party from an incon
sistency ; for though inconsistency is not the worst of sins, it
would as a matter of fact have been the grossest inconsistency

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 251
for the same party that tried to turn Gorham out, quietly to
let these men stay in. Stanley, if he is the writer in the
Edinburgh, deserves the knock he got from Jelf, not on account
of the mistake, which is nothing ; but because he had' taken
absurd advantage of a mere verbal mistake in Jelf — that is, as
he thought it to be at the time. It is a piece of dishonesty which
everybody seems to think fair now, to go off from the real
merits of the question at any point, to discuss some trumpery
verbal inaccuracy for whole pages, where your opponent has
made one, in order to produce the appearance of a victory on
the main question, when it has nothing to do with the main
question at all. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, August 4, 1861.
. . . What a melancholy event poor Sidney Herbert's death is !
It has struck the whole world with a sort of gloom. I should
think it was too late to think of anything hke restoration when
he took the move to the Upper House, but that if he had taken
it a year or two back, and given himself a regular holiday, there
might have been a chance. I suppose in such cases there must
have been premonitory symptoms going on for some time.
To the Same. Shoreham, March 31, 1862.
. . . We paid a week's visit to Tom at Finchampstead. It
was the first we had paid. We were much taken with the
house and whole place. I saw some of his neighbours, among
others Kingsley, who dined there. He has a little the look,
when he first comes into a room, of a lion — i.e. of one who
knows himself to be a lion. But I thought afterwards the im
pression might be due to the natural restlessness of his eye and
manner — something of the same that Keble has. He is a
most continuous talker, but fresh and interesting, and without
affectation ; and bis hesitation of speech is not so much of a
drawback as you might expect. He gave one the idea of a man
who had a real wish to be manly and simple-minded, and made
that his standard. He is made, of course, an immense deal of.

252 Letters of the
To the Same. Shoreham, April 26, 1862.
... I am glad to bear of your contemplated tour. As you
are something of a traveller by nature, it becomes a void which
requires satisfying from time to time, and such satisfactions are
good things for the health and everything else. Our review
was a fine sight — at least 200,000 people, I should say, on the
Downs. I had the opportunity of watching two notabilities,
Lord Clyde and Lord Cardigan — the latter very handsome,
with quite a beau-idial of a refined, well-chiselled face, but with
a quiet yet vicious melancholy stamped upon it. I was struck
with his absolute imperturbability, for he sat bolt upright on
his saddle for at least two hours, without a movement of any
kind, or even turning his head. Whether this was expression
of an inward scorn for the whole genus volunteer, I cannot say.
Lord Clyde had rather a Saracenic sit upon his horse, bending
forward over his horse's neck, wriggling about in eel-like fashion,
rather as Saracens are represented in pictures, as if he forgot he
was upon horseback, feeling the animal so completely a part of
himself. He had the look of performing all the processes of
mind upon horseback. There was a decision in his own move
ments, shooting out his arms in giving directions like a sign
post ; and you should have seen him gallop up and cap the
Duchess of Wellington, the white feather performing such a
magnificent curve in the air. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
In the autumn of 1862, J. B. M. published his Review of tlie
Baptismal Controversy. He writes to bis sister from London :—
Curzon Street, October 1862.
Thank you for the attention you have given to a book on
so very professional a subject as mine. As you say, I should
not have expected beforehand that I should have chosen such
a subject, but circumstances dictated it, and in the great diffi
culty of choosing for one's-self, one rather too willingly perhaps
acquiesces in the choice which circumstances make for one.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 253
Of course no controversial book ever convinces anybody ; what
it does do, if its argument is good, is to enable persons, more or
fewer, who were convinced before out of their own reflection,
but shrank from avowing it, because they had not definitely
looked into the facts of the case, to avow and express their
previous judgment.
We have managed to see and hear a good deal, though the
Exhibition is such a perfect infinity, that the more one sees the
more one knows one has not seen. So that I do not profess to
be proof against ignominious exposures of omission. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
This year the Eickards' party were at Brighton. J. B. M.
writes : — To his Sister.
Shoreham, November 21, 1862.
. . . Mr. Eickards took me to call on a Mr. Hircher, a con
verted Jew, who is reading Colenso's book, and full of the
utter puerility of it. The text has never been considered by
the Jews themselves infallible on the point of numbers, errors
having crept into the MSS., or it being conceded that they may
have. Mr. E. entered a little on the subject of my book, the exis
tence of which he knew, though not the contents. I told him
the main positions of it, and specially the distinction between
the grace of Baptism and the recipients of that grace (whether
all infants are), upon which the argument is founded. So far
from objecting he rather approved of it, and said the same dis
tinction had occurred to himself at the Gorham row, only not
with sufficient definiteness. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
James Mozley being part proprietor of the Christian Remem
brancer, which took a strong line against his book, was desirous to
dissociate the famUy name from the title-page of that periodical,
and to make it over to other hands. This my brother John, not
sympathising in J. B. M.'s modification of views, was unwilling
to agree to. As recipient of both views, their sister has to make

254 Letters of the
the best of things. " As you observe," J. B. M. writes, " the
matter is not of very much importance."
To his Sister.
Shoreham, December 2, 1862.
I should describe our family poUtics as moderate High
Church. I should describe myself under that term. I have
said nothing but what recognised moderate High Church ,
divines have said, such as the late Bishop Kaye, who was
always regarded as the learned Bishop of the Bench in his day,
and what the Bishop of Oxford openly says in his charges,
namely — that our formularies were meant to include both
parties. But though moderate High Church, we don't go along with
the spirit that breathes in the controversial reviews of the
High Church party, stUl less should we be disposed to
turn a clergyman out of his living for holding what is
admitted on all sides to have been openly held in the English
Eeformed Church, from the first moment of its existence to
the present moment. The Gorham judgment simply sanc
tioned a de facto state of things which had existed from the
first — there being too, nowhere, any dogmatic statement the
other way in our formularies. The High Church party
practically gives up the case when it accepts as its leader the
Bishop of Oxford, who openly proclaims the neutrality of our
formularies. However, I am getting theological.
We have not quite made up our minds as to the time of our
Derby visit. We think, however, somewhere about the middle
of January. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
The question of the Articles coming up in 1863, J. B. M.
wrote the Letter to Professor Stanley, which appears in the latest
published volume of his works. We find allusions to it in the
year's letters.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, May 12, 1863.
I am sorry the Oxford Liberals have taken to aggression.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 255
For Stanley's attack on the Articles must be taken as such. It
is very weU to claim for their faith to be tolerated, but this
is rather like an attempt to make you give up yours. It is
evident it has been forced upon Stanley by the go-aheads of
Oxford, and that he does not like his task. I have almost
a mind to say something about it myself, but one's courage,
like Bob Acre's, oozes through one's finger-ends. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
Writing to his brother Tom, to whom he had sent a copy : —
June 11, 1863.
I am glad you found my Letter readable. Anything con
nected with the Articles has a repulsiveness to the general
reader, which it requires a strong effort to surmount. How
ever, you seem to have got over the barrier by a strong exer
tion of the will. I do not think much of E  's criticism,
which would require us to read aU the Eeformers through
before we could apply it, a task which would, I think, exceed
the most Herculean strength.
Gladstone's speech was very clever in having something in
it to please everybody, and excite hopes in all directions, and
yet with the orthodox bent pre-eminent. — Yours,
J. B. M.
In July he writes from Cornwall, where he, his wife, and
Mrs. Johnson were taking a driving tour : —
To his Sister. Bude, July 14, 1863.
Our weather hitherto has been capital, and we have almost
an excess of it now in the shape of a mist, which prevents us
from seeing more than the rough outline of the cliffs of the
magnificent bay on which we now are. On the north is
Moorwinstow Cliff, the Eaven's Crag, the finest in Cornwall,
450 feet high; on the south is Tintagel, the birthplace of
King Arthur. This country is devoted to British romance,
which, as it was a favourite subject with the archaeologists

256 Letters of the
of the reign of Henry 11., may be regarded as doubly curious
now. I must confess to vague notions upon this early period,
but I bow to a name which has survived so many ages as King
Arthur's, and can believe that he must have been something of
a man. Earlier associations stUl accompany us everywhere.:
The Druids were great upon Dartmoor, and we passed by
remains of circles and fragments of stand-up stones. We are
resting ourselves now for a few days, and content ourselves
with lazy walks on the breakwater, and to the cliffs close by.
We have the advantage of a very nice inn, called the Falcon,
in honour of the Aclands, who own all the land on this side
of the river, and who have a falcon for their crest. Sir Thomas
is idolised here. He has a cottage where he comes for two or
three months every year, and he rules the place after the
fashion of Haroun Alraschid, by finding out from everybody
what grievances there are, and who have tyrannised in his
absence. . . .
We hke this place (Bude) better than CloveUy, which had
some perfect pictures of views, but which kept you quite a
prisoner in that steep corkscrew street, down the cliff, out
of which you could only emerge by a determined effort,
to go back to your pictures again, which were cut out for
you in the woods of the Hobby and the Park, and were in fact
in frames as reaUy as if the latter had been gUt. There was
something amusing, however, in the evening promenade of
CloveUy, which consisted of the whole population, men,
women, and boys, sliding and sliddering and twisting down
the corkscrew of the street, catching hold of the handles and
railings if a false step was made, which was easy enough,
the houses on each side being within arm's-length.
To T. M., on the subject, he writes on his return to Shore
ham : — August 12, 1863.
Unfortunately times of enjoyment leave only general impres
sions behind them, and do not add much to the stock of human
knowledge. I have several images in my mind's eye that I
had not before, and I believe that constitutes aU my acquisi-

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 257
tion. I can recommend the Cornish coast as having effects
which I have not seen elsewhere, and more approaching sub
limity than other cliff scenery, so that to the people who ask,
Why did not you go abroad ? I am prepared with an answer,
namely, that you do not get this sort of scenery abroad ; so that if
you happen to be particularly fond of this one sort you must go
where you can get it. I do not know of any near parts abroad
where you can get it, though I daresay it is to be found.
To the Same.
Shoreham, November 13, 1863.
. . . Trench's appointment is a very good one, and Stanley
seems made for the Deanery of Westminster, if one did not
know that the appointment was only an intermediate position
for him. I somehow had not anticipated another important
event for him. It is one of those instances which shows how
absurd it is to destine a man in one's own mind to be celi
bate. I had never connected Stanley with the idea of " settling
down;" perfect freedom and going about indefinitely seemed to
belong intrinsicaUy to bim. I will not associate any melan
choly thought with such a subject, but it does somehow or
other remind one of a tendency to subsidence which seems to
exist in things, and which, though it may be kept off by viva
cious acclivities for a time, has its way at last. Though of
course he wiU be as inteUectuaUy active as ever, the Liberals
of Oxford will find the loss of him. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
T. M. writes to J. B. M., in return for his report, a full
account of his own Irish tour. The answer speaks of my
brother Charles, who was a traveller in the full sense of the
word, one of his northern expeditions to Lapland, etc., taking
him to regions in Finland where no Englishman bad ever
been before. TraveUing, indeed, was with him a passion,
rendering him perfectly regardless of the comforts of Ufe in
his journeyings — a disregard which told with sad force as the
vigour of life waned.

258 Letters of the
To his Brother T. M.
October 26, 1863.
Your outline of your Irish tour gives so vivid and clear an
idea of the main features, that I thought it a pity it should
stop with me, so I sent it to Derby. Charles is going to give
it a diligent perusal, in order to compare his own impressions
with those of your sketch. He has been, as you may remember,
a great Irish traveller, though of late years he has struck out
bolder paths. . . . Charles's collection of Icelandic plants has
arrived in London. John Ogle took them to the meeting of
the Association at Edinburgh, and brought them back scien-
tificaUy arranged by Dr. Balfour, with the request that any
dupUcates might be bestowed upon the rising Icelandic
collection at Edinburgh. Charles has given the whole, and
so goes down to posterity as a benefactor of science.
I bad observed the defects of the Saturday Review article on
Whately [written on the death of the Archbishop of Dublin]
before you mentioned them. The writer did not know
Whately's history evidently. He felt Tractarianism as a great
sore through life, and was always hitting it, and in fact could
not keep his temper about it. The writer in the 8. R. can't
have looked at bis later writings, otherwise he would not have
passed over this feature, and represented him as treating the
whole subject with contemptuous silence.
Bonamy Price was enraptured with The Times article on the
subject. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. October, 1863.
I had a few days' reading in the British Museum week before
last. A most pleasant place, and equipped with every artificial
defence against sound that ingenuity could devise. Everything
padded — floor, shelves, desk, everything you touch. Leather is
the universal medium. The effect is very successful. . As I do
not want to refer to any very rare books, it will not answer my
purpose to read there much. Did I live in London, however,
I should prefer it to any Club hbrary.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 259
I dined one day with Eogers. I was rather amused with one
statement he sported, namely, "How very few reaUy useful
people there were." I asked whether he did not consider himself
a useful man ? Upon which he explained that shoemakers,
tailors, despatch-writers, etc., were useful in their way, but
what he meant by useful men were those who did what other
people did not do, and so fiUed a gap. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, December 3, 1863.
I had a long talk with WiUiam Pusey a week ago. He
comes to his sister-in-law, Miss Freeman, who has a house for
sick clnldren in Montpeher Street. He was very little altered.
I asked him about a report that Newman had written to his
brother congratulating him on the comment on the Minor
Prophets, and saying that such was the best way of meeting
the scepticism of the day. He said it was true. Curious,
among other signs of J. H. N.'s present state of mind. W. P.
was very fuU of the Burial Service question, having himself
had a case. He had had a talk with the Archbishop of Can
terbury, who saw no chance of an alteration of the service. —
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To the Same.
December, 1863.
So Stanley's friends at Oxford are getting up a parting com
pliment to him. It looks a little like an antidote to Words
worth's manifestation, but it is so natural a thing in itself that
one need not give it that interpretation. I suppose W.'s
protest wiU have the effect of delaying Stanley's bishopric.
One remembers the Hampden affair, and, though those days are
past, people are never quite safe from revivals. If Gladstone
ever is Premier he will have some difficult knots of this kind
to solve.
Writing to Mr. Church after being appointed Bampton
Lecturer for 1865, be tells him :—

260 Letters of the April 13, 1864.
... I have chosen a subject on which there is not much new
to say — Miracles. At least what there is new is not, unfortu
nately, particularly good or correct. Stanley writes to me to re
commend to my attention Middle Age miracles. The suggestion
is most amiable, but be could not have raised a more frightful
vision to appal the rash adventurer upon a somewhat delicate
subject. I had rather proposed to myself safer ground in the
old established philosophical arguments, only content if I could
give a fresh touch to one or two of them.
My brother Arthur tells me that Stanley's popularity is
already commencing in London, and that relations with the
young clergy are beginning to form, in connection with soirees
at the Deanery, etc. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In answer to this letter, his friend writes : —
" I wish I could come and talk with you about your subject,
and then hear you. I don't think you need fear that your subject
is one of which ah that has to be said has already been said.
Stanley's insensibility to the immeasurable difference that
miracle or no miracle makes in our idea of religion has always
struck me as the most singular mark of his want of depth. The
course would be worth preaching if only to impress on people's
minds how much turns on miracles."
In a note to his brother, J. B. M. aUudes to a correspondence,
then exciting much amusement, between Dr. Newman and
Mr. Kingsley, following upon Mr. Kingsley's charge, in an
article in Macmillan, that " truth for its own sake had never
been a virtue with the Eoman clergy," and that "Father
Newman informs us that it need not be : " especially to the
" brief analysis," with which Dr. Newman sums up the whole
correspondence. " E. was in a state of ecstasy upon the Newman and Kingsley
correspondence ; unable to contain himself. I think it is the
best thing that has appeared on the stage since the Critic— in
that line. P.S. — How does  take Kingsley's fate V

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 261
Father Frederick Faber died this year. In a letter after
a visit to his friend, Frank Faber, after speaking of the won
derful influence Fr. Faber had in his new communion, and of
instances that had been brought before bim, James writes : —
The house abounds with photographs of him. I could not
help myself, notwithstanding all these facts [quoted in the
letter], discerning something of the baby in them — an absence
of that solid intelligence which is the natural result of a
thoughtful life. As for influence upon others, that is a ques
tion which I have not solved. . . .
In my short stay in London last week I was stimulated by
curiosity to see how the Prince [of Wales] would carry off his
chairmanship — his first appearance in public where he bad
anything to do. He was perfectly cool and quiet, and his
voice admirable. There were only about three persons who
were reaUy heard, and he was one of them; only with this
difference, that they had to exert their voices and he did not
seem in the least to exert his. It was a strange contrast to his
next neighbour, Lord Stanhope, who shouted furiously without
the least effect. Shoreham, January 31, 1865.
My dear Church, — We have been so perfectly quiet lately
that I have hardly anything to say except that the approach of
March has compeUed me to put my B. L. thoughts into some
shape. I find, as I suppose other writers must do, that the
rough drafts create some dismay on first returning to them. It
was the only subject that I felt myself equal to undertake,
from previous thought and consideration, of all the subjects
that engage men's attention now ; but the conclusion is often
less hopeful than the beginning when the prospect is vague. I
begin March 12, and preach three; then start again May 7.
The difficulty is in dealing with something so informal and un
expressed and indefinite as what constitutes the real objection to
miracles in doubting minds. The formal, logical answers have
been given over and over again, and with great force, but the
minds whom they intended to convince do not care the least

262 Letters of the
about them. And yet no other answers can be given that I
know of. Thus one is sometimes struck with the idea of the
entire superfluousness of one's task, and can only take refuge
in the necessity of the case, that people wiU be always attack
ing and defending as long as the world lasts. There is a
pleasure in having definite work, and I have found the occupa
tion in the main agreeable. The preaching I do not look
forward to with much satisfaction, not having a vocation for it.
The evidence part is tiring — so much in-and-out work with
testimony, experience, laws of nature, and the rest, and qualify
ing of different kinds. I think I shaU try to bring out in one
lecture towards the end the argument that the practical force
and success of Christianity has depended on certain motives,
which motives have been supplied by certain doctrines, which
doctrines could not have been proved without miracles.
It occurs to me that the enclosed may interest you a little.1
It is an account of a paper read by Stanley at a clergy debat
ing society, which meets at Edward Kempe's, which I had from
Arthur. I am afraid Stanley is going great lengths ; what I
hke least of all is the claim for sympathy — though only ab
extra sympathy — with Eenan. He forgets that Eenan is not
an unsettled heathen, but an apostate from Christianity, and
that he (Eenan) puts his own merit as an expositor on heathen
ground. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
The Bampton Lectures took J. B. M. much to Oxford the
earlier part of 1865, the delivery of the last lecture bring
ing him there at the time of Commemoration, an occasion
on which the Bishop of Exeter, then a great age, so noted a
figure in past ecclesiastical excitements and events, decided
to be present.
1 The "enclosed" was a letter from J. B. M.'s brother Arthur. It ia
acknowledged with a pleasant recognition of its truth of delineation.
" Feb. 3. — Thank you for your brother Arthur's account. How very well he
does it. He brings out so well the point of Stanley's manner — his rhetorical
skill — his aggressive and defiant pluck — his desperate determination to claim
everything and everybody with life in them as on his side. And then, after
all, what is his side ? What is the nineteenth century religion for which all
things have been preparing, and to which all good things past and present
are subservient and bear witness ?''

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 263
To Eev. E. W. Church. Oxford, June 23, 1865.
I met the Bishop of Exeter at lunch at Magdalen, at the
President's, quite a quiet affair as he stipulated. On first
coming into the room he was a sad picture of feebleness,
but on sitting down he became talkative, but only to his
next neighbour, and not attempting any general conversa
tion. I told his daughter, who came with him, that bis face
struck me as having more flesh than his photograph gave it,
and she said he had " gained " lately — rather remarkable at his
age. When he prepared himself for the outer air, so far as a
chair can be called that, he was, with his black blinkers and
black spectacles, and black worsted oversocks, etc., a most
singular object, exhibiting life under very unfavourable appear
ances. He travels three hours at a time by rail, but likes the
utmost speed when he is on the road, and hates stoppages. His
poor daughter looks clouded and depressed by anxiety, hardly
speaking above ber breath. Whether the disposition of the
old gentleman had anything to do with it, I don't know. I am
sending you an account of one great man in return for your
picture of another, which was very interesting. J. H. N.'s
good spirits are a striking feature in him.
The Commemoration passed over, it was thought, well as
compared with former ones, the under-graduates subduing their
ferocity a little. Michell from his rostrum defied them by his
arm and looks, and as be did it good-naturedly he was occa
sionally cheered, amid the impertinence ; but he had a strong
source of confidence in his son's Latin poem. Son and father
represented the Latinity of our rostrum. . . . Yours affection
ately, J. B. M.
On the 24th of August 1865, died Mr. Eickards of Stow-
Langtoft ; a man most important to all who knew him, and with
many of pre-eminent weight and influence — an influence perhaps
peculiarly dependent on personal intercourse. J. B. M. writes
to his sister a few days after bis death : —

2 64 Letters of the
Shoreham, August 29, 1865.
I had heard only a few days before from Mrs. Eickards, about
a temporary curate for Stow-Langtoft. She was reheved from
the sense of present danger. The sad news therefore was a
great surprise to me at least. I had always, from the quiet
strength of body and mind which he showed at Brighton, his
walking and talking powers, looked forward to an advanced old
age for him. Perhaps the sea air set bim up and showed bim
to advantage. He has been, one may say, one of the principal
images that one has carried about in one's mind through life—
I mean personal images. There was something about him that
made one often think of him. . . . Mr. Eickards had weight,
yet it is curious to see how gifts get divorced, which if com
bined would have produced great power. Had Mr. Eickards,
with his weight, had forcible and popular gifts, oratory, or power
of style, he would have been able to take a leadership of
numbers, and sustain a situation of command. As it was, his
sphere was confined. Yet, on the other hand, how httle are the
other gifts without that inimitable one of weight. What weak
creatures people are without it ! I cannot help therefore re
garding Mr. Eickards as, in Carlyle's phrase, a strong man.
He kept his ground through life ; nothing displaced bim. He'
bad always command of himself, and could do what he aimed at
doing, though be moderated bis aim. I was looking over his
fifteenth sermon the other day — " Godliness the ground of self-
command." It is unconsciously self-descriptive. He talks of
what he aims at, and, as what he aims at be attained, the image
be draws is necessarily one of himself.
On the question of a memoir, J. B. M. writes : —
To his Sister. November 21, 1865.
Mrs. Bayne's letter is equaUy sensible and feeling. Her idea
of coUecting family reminiscences and associations for preserva
tion is much on the Mr. Eickards' type, and shows the sort of
mind that would particularly appreciate him. About a memoir,
the question certainly deserves considering, though there would

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 265
be peculiar difficulties in this case, arising from the fact that
Mr. E. was so especiaUy a person who required to be seen in
order to be understood. The difficulty of producing in the
reader the true conception of the man without sight would
be very great. It might not be amiss, if it could be done, to
ascertain what amount of correspondence there was preserved.
Letters to and from Davison, for example, supposing these to
be forthcoming, on religious questions, would be interesting.
In lack of correspondence, the substance of a memoir would
depend on the recollections of those who knew him ; things
said on particular occasions, conversations of a definite kind.
It would be anecdotal. Without enough material a memoir
would do him rather injustice. The sort of career his was
would not lead one to expect much quantity of this.
Mrs. Eickards sent me Keble's letter, which was character-
isticaUy worded. The hand showed much alteration. I liked
it much, aDd thought the slight touches of description in it
very true portraiture.
No memoir was attempted, but the view of what it should
be, what should be aimed at, is applicable to the subject of
memoirs generally. Writing to Mr. Church, J. B. M. says of
Mr. Eickards : —
" It is remarkable what a large private circle he had, who
all felt indebted to bim for making them, so to speak. Mrs.
R has hundreds of letters from people. She is very sensible,
however, and is aware of the difference between a large private
circle and public life as the ground of a memoir. She has
asked me to assist her in it."
To Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, October 23, 1865.
My dear Church, — What an eventful week we have had !
Odd that Stanley should so immediately succeed Lord Shaftes
bury as the counsellor in Church promotions, as I suppose he
will do now. At least if he does not absolutely, it will be
curious to see what modifications of influence Lord Eussell

266 Letters of the
wiU allow him. The Record was in black upon the occasion.
How studiously Lord Palmerston's illness, which seems to have
been going on some time, was concealed, quite hke some
Eastern potentate's. . . . The Times gave its first intimation
that " Lord Palmerston was seriously iU," which it modified
by the expression that it " did not wish to alarm the friends of
the noble Premier," when he was dead. He was lying dead at
the time people were taking up the Times at their breakfast
tables. I suppose Gladstone will feel disappointed, Lord K.
beiug so unpopular with the subordinates ; stiU they prefer
him to G. What up-hill work it is a man getting to the top —
Alps on Alps, etc. I should think, however, that a little dis
cretion, which he must learn now, wUl insure it to him, but
when ? The articles on Lord Palmerston have been very poor,
the writers unable to feign any surprise or solemnity. Yet
surely such a disappearance is a great fact. It does not signify
a man's age — he is alive till he is dead. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
Shoreham, November 8, 1865.
My dear Church, — We have not, after all, gone our in
tended Paris trip. ... Our outing wiU probably be limited to
a few days at Finchampstead, the end of this month. I pre
sume the same literary theological projects that reach me reach
you too. I was asked some weeks ago to write for a volume
of essays, to be pubhshed by Longman, under the editorship
of Mr. Orby Shipley, of whom I did not know much. I
did not feel in a very writing humour, so excused myself.
Another project reaches me to-day, and I also have no
doubt yourself by the same post — the Contemporary, under
Dean Alford's editorship. L. writes to enlist contributors. I
should have thought that L, as a man of the world, would have
not meddled much with such breakdown undertakings as new
reviews. He takes high ground, however, and urges the neces
sities of the times, and that something should be done to meet
the " new school " in a Liberal quarter. I am sorry to say my
stock of enthusiasm is rather low, and one acquires a kind of
notion that certain movements die out of themselves, without

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 267
so much writing against tbem. Though, if conscientious men
think differently, one is ready to wish them all success in their
plans. . . . And if one had anything to say perhaps one ought
not to stand aloof, but that if is rather a puzzle. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — The lectures wiU be out in a few days. I hardly know
whether to be glad or sorry to have done with them. One feels
a kind' of blank. You are responsible for a paragraph in the
first, and also for a note on the same subject — Patristic estimate
of miracles as evidence — a note of yours having suggested the
subject to me. The note has exceeded the proper limits of one.

To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, February 19, 1866.
... I have of course many regrets with respect to the per
formance. One is, that I have not brought out Clarke's
Demonstration, which is undoubtedly a very great book, and
I think contains in germ the answer to the physical concep
tion of a Deity now prevailing, and the proof of another world.
I mean that it is the answer to the scientific people on that
point. As a personal Deity was, however, assumed in my
argument, I did not think of it, and his title of Demonstration
has always given me a prejudice against the book. It is really,
however, a mistake in the name rather than in the substance
of the book. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — What wonderful Parisian gaieties I1
1 The letter encloses a. newspaper paragraph (the reference of course
appended by the sender) : — "The Paris correspondent of The Morning Star
describes a novel costume at the fancy ball given at the Tuileries last
week :—' The Marchioness de Gallifet, as the Archangel Gabriel, attracted
all eyes ; her short petticoat of white cashmere embroidered in gold, the
glittering scale-armour of gold fitting tightly to her figure, her golden hair
floating on her shoulders, star-lighted by an etoile of diamonds, invisibly
suspended over her forehead, her wings of white feathers, which, in arching
above her head, only terminated below her knee, and, above all, the golden
sword clasped tightly in her fairy hand, and brandished even while dancing,
formed a most bewitching tout ensemble.'" See 2 Cor. xi. 14.

268 Letters of the
To Eev. E. W. Church.
March 7, 1866.
... I have been staying with Arthur, and went to the St.
James's clerical meeting on Thursday evening. Stanley on the
Irenicon. It was a well-worded and clear paper, of course
viewing the subject entirely on his own side of it. When
questioned by Lord A. Hervey, Irons, etc., what doctrinal veto
he proposed upon absolute universal comprehension, he
diplomatised, and I understood him to say that was not the
time for entering on that part of the subject. Pusey was
expected up, but faUed at the moment from a cold, Acland
interposing. The substantial feeling of the meeting was against
Stanley — though he is complimented by everybody, in such a
way that he is not unlikely to be deceived, and to take it more
as a sign than it really is. Mrs. Arthur Mozley, who was with
a few ladies within hearing, in E. K.'s study, which enters into
the vestry, said, as soon as the paper was over, a young man
rushed up to Lady Augusta, exclaiming, " He is a prophet ; He
is a prophet." Irons spoke well. There was Oxenham, the
convert. He spoke in favour of Eome as a conciUator — that
she was ready to act on Wiseman's dictum, " We must explain
to the uttermost." The facts don't look like it. All the world
is talking of Ecce Homo. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M,
In the spring of 1866 J. B. M., accompanied by his wife and
her sister, Miss Ogle, took a well-earned hoUday of two months
abroad. The journey had been delayed, and even rendered
uncertain, by the illness of one or two bumble parishioners,
who happily recovered in time for the party to leave home in
comfort. To his Sister. Genoa, April 12, 1866.
I date this letter from the city of palaces, but shaU not be
able to finish it here. I will put down a little, however, while
first impressions continue. Genoa is a city of palaces. There
are very large suburbs which do not partake of that character,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 269
but are entirely utilitarian, dirty, and ugly. Taking in the
suburbs, it is an immense place, much larger than I had thought ;
these suburbs, however, figure as separate towns in guide
books, etc. In fact, the whole country from Voltri, about
twelve miles off, is a suburb. But Genoa real is unmistak
able, as soon as you enter. You are almost immediately in the
Strada Balbi — itself, by the way, once a suburb to the very
old town. You know where you are then. It is magnificent.
We entered by a good evening light. I can give some idea
of it perhaps, by saying that it is to the eye what a deep peal
of thunder is to the ear. The stupendous size of the palaces,
their enormous height, — with a good deal of dead wall about
some of tbem, only relieved by rich and bold projected orna
mentation — which you cannot easUy take in, for you cannot
see to the top of them but by stretching your neck back at
right angles, all these giants, standing in a solemn row on
each side, constitute indeed a sight. I do not know whether
Emerson's friend * would call it " rehgion," but it has certainly
as much right to that name as Mademoiselle Cerito's dancing.
The Strada Balbi is only the beginning of one long street of
palaces, which goes through the Piazza dell' Annunziata, the
Strada Nuovissima, Strada Nuova, and Piazza della Fontana
Amorosa. The narrowness of the streets sets off the massive-
ness of the architecture. Everything is brought together in
one mass of richness. I say narrow — but they are hke Eegent
Street in width, compared with those of the old town, which
are simply alleys. Yet in these too are congregated numbers
of huge old palaces — the residences of the old families before
they left for the new streets. In the darkness in which you
walk, you do not see they are old palaces tiU you look up
and see rich balconies hanging an immense height over you.
The effect of some of the old streets is very fine — they seem,
from their narrowness, constantly ending in a point, like the
gorges of the Ehine.
We inquired at the Balbi Palace, but were told we could
1 Alluding to the story of Emerson and Margaret Fuller at the opera,
under the spell of Cerito's grace — " Margaret, this is poetry." " No, Ralph,
it is religion."

2 70 Letters of the
not see it, the Marcbesa Balbi having been iU for a month.
We then crossed the street to the Durazzo Palace, and saw it ;
magnificent white marble entrance-court, white marble columns
and staircase ; the rooms all splendid in damask and gold.
There were in one room two very fine vases of Cellini, made
for the Durazzo of that day, with the Durazzo arms upon them.
There was a portrait of the late Marquis, in his costume as a
Genoese noble — a black velvet cloak — black sUk cassock (as it
seems), and a gold chain round his neck. In the other room
the same person appeared in his ordinary costume, dressed like
an Enghsb gentleman — frock-coat, and the choker worn some
twenty years ago. The Durazzos live there always. There is
something singular in the fidelity of some of the old families
to Genoa. There they live, with suburbs like those of a manu
facturing town within half-a-mile of them. The King of
Sardinia's Palace is in the Strada Balbi — as long as an ordinary
street itself.
We saw everywhere signs of a popular constitution — placards
addressed " Elettori " and " Concittadini ; " the style very
magnificent. You cannot tell at all what they are about, the
writers are in too inspired and expansive a state of mind to
state anything definite. We found out, however, on inquiry,
that one related to a national subscription which was being
raised to supply the void in the taxes. We were told in the
bookseUer's shop that they were in good heart, and the sum
considered sure of being collected. The Dorias have deserted
Genoa, and live at Eome, caUing themselves Doria Pamphili.
Two rooms and a corridor alone are shown in the palace, four
centuries old nearly, just the very beginning of the renaissance.
The great Doria's bedroom is kept as it was — bedstead, etc.,
his portrait, taken after death, looking down upon the scene.
His hve portrait presents a grand shrewd old face. He was a
friend of Charles v. He seems to have surrounded himself
with boundless magnificence.
I have said nothing about the Cornice Eoad. We had good,
not perfect weather — two sunshiny days, and two with good
sky light and occasional rain. I need not say it is a land
of olive trees, oranges, and lemons — sometimes growing wild

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 271
apparently on the rocks. The succession of beautiful little
bays makes a pleasing variety ; also, what is a great feature, the
rapid succession of antique little cities, glittering with white
and pink in the distance. Italy is certainly pre-eminently a
land of plaster. But plaster does not produce the same ideas
there that it does with us, where it is mean architecturally.
You see it is the ancient rule and fashion. The gay white and
pink, combined with the loftiness and good grouping of the
houses, creates a kind of illusion as you approach. Every httle
fishing vihage looks almost palatial in the distance. It is as if
Quorndon, Spondon, and Borrowash were suddenly seized with
the desire of making themselves look fascinating and composed
of marble palaces. Alassio is of another type — like a city on
the Ehine. It is a very populous region. Were I to say the
whole road up to Genoa was one street, I should be exaggerat
ing, but there would be a foundation of truth. I am writing
at a resting-place in the Apennines — Borghetto, where our
voiturier rests his horses an hour. This is the other Cornice
Eoad, on the other side the corner. It has grander features of
scenery than the Genoese or the Cornice Eoad — the bays deeper
and more strikingly shaped, and the mountains higher. We
had a fine Itahan sunset at Sestri last night, brUhant light
yellow, and those bard, sharp outlined clouds you have in
Salvator Eosa and the Italian school, with successive sudden
darkenings, hke those of a stage — a perfectly purple range of
mountains, the sea gradually becoming pink — till all faded
away. To-day our scenery has been aU Apennine, with only
occasional glimpses of sea — very grand ; but no castles, and
therefore no Castle of Udolfo. This evening we hope to reach
Leghorn by rail, and thence to Eome to-morrow.
I observed, as we went along all the way, the priests seemed
better friends with the people than they are in France. One
sees them walking with and chatting with people. In France
they seem to be always walking hurriedly by themselves through
the streets, as if only some professional object took them out,
and have a look of being pursued. Some of tbem here, too,
look of a better class than the French priests. We have made
a few purchases of Genoa gold work, and a rather majestic

272 Letters of the
damsel tempted Ameha and Janet to invest in lace yesterday
at Sestri, which is a lace place. I admired her voice and utter
ance, which reminded me of what the Opium-eater says about
the voices of Itahan women. They have nightingale throats.
We are pursued, of course, by little boys and girls begging,
but this is since we left old Sardinian territory. Here we are
in new Sardinia. The Italian women are more striking than
the men — handsome and expressive features. You observe
their walk. They aU walk exceedingly well, and aU just alike ;
their figures very upright, whUe they plant their feet on the
ground firmly, and with perfect regularity of pace, as if each
foot felt a sense of responsibility, which, in fact, it does, for
their walk results from their practice of carrying great burdens
balanced on their heads, which compels these measured steps.
But the habit formed continues when the cause is absent.
Even little girls walk hke soldiers. The chUdren have animated
vivacious faces. We have had a most moderate temperature
hitherto. I could not have told we were not in England, all
our wraps have been brought into use constantly. I suppose
the warmth begins suddenly.
I have said nothing of the Ehone and its cities. They are
wonderful specimens of hoary antiquity ; and passing so quickly
by the scenes of old CouncUs and Popes, one historical place
after another, especially in the languid condition of a night
railway traveUer, when morning opens, was like a dream. But
Marseilles rapidly dispels such illusions — an intensely modern
citizen of the world place — aU the men of the higher ranks dis
carding everything, even French, and looking just hke men in
London. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Eome, April 22, 1866.
We have been here now nearly a week, which has gone away
quickly. We were shot here through the darkness by the rail
from Civita Veccbia, so that our first impressions had to wait
for the light. We went to the English service, and thence
straight to St. Peter's. Now for the great question, the apparent

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 273
size. My own experience is this. You are disappointed just
the first moment as to the size, till you cast your eyes on the
floor. Then it is no longer a secret. It is the largest expanse
of floor you have ever had before you, there can be no doubt ;
and from, the floor the size of the buUding then comes to you.
I was not disappointed then. There was a true idea of im
mense size. If ever you find the impression of size diminish
ing, look at the floor again ; that revives it. I think people
make a mistake generally in looking up only ; they ought to
look down a great deal. The floor is the grand first element,
which is outside of, and is not within the contracting influence
of proportion. Then, too, English travellers, from the way in
which our cathedrals strike the eye, are apt to look to the length
as the great thing. In St. Peter's it is space— vast space on
all sides of you. The huge masses of piers rise in seas of space
on all sides of them, which your eye catches, as the segments
appear — intersections of it on aU sides. The richness of the
whole effect is wonderful. It is not gorgeousness, for that is
too heavy, but a most perfect blending of all colour. The
whole is to the eye one mosaic. It seems as if designed to be
a most costly and regal feast to that organ. I would not say it
did not inspire religious feelings, and yet I think it would be
nearer to the ocular truth to call it a palace than a church —
such a palace as might be discovered underground or under
the sea in some classical Arabian Nights' world. I need not
go into particulars, all of which you have in Murray.
In the spirit of the whole structure, and of its monumental
adornments especially, there is, of course, material for criticism.
It is more of a glorification of the great Italian famUies than I
expected. One was prepared for the Papacy being enthroned
there, but not so much for the building being converted to the
purpose of family exaltation, for Borgheses, Farneses, Medicis,
Barberinis, Odescalchis, etc. The family names of the Popes
appear on their monuments, with their colossal escutcheons in
bvonze or marble, so that a monument to a Pope is virtually an
enthronement of the family in the place. Even round the high
Altar itself the bees of the Barberinis go up the bronze pillars,
and their coats of arms at the basement would make the floor

274 Letters of the
of a moderate room. Before you enter, as you look up at the
f acade, the first words you see are " Paid Borghese." The Popes
sit on royal chairs on their monuments, stretching out their
right arms in an attitude of sovereignty and imperial power.
Canova has the merit of making bis Popes kneel — i.e. be deserves
praise for his intention ; but I doubt whether the other position
does not best suit them. We attended vespers in the choir chapel
on Sunday — the music and voices first-rate, in the operatic style.
It is curious to see the minute proportion of the vast building
which is congregational ; the choir chapel would hardly accom
modate more than fifty comfortably, leaving out the choristers,
canons, etc. However, perhaps it adds to the dignity of the
edifice, the very smaU ordinary use that is made of it. . . .
We find ourselves comfortable enough here. We are getting
within the fascinating influence of the mosaic and gold shops.1
The work is most beautiful. . . . The Vatican was a day's work.
I was taken up by the guide into the entrance hall of the Pope's
residence, where ladies are not admitted. In the corner was a
door, which was explained by repeating several times " Machinal
Machina !" It was a lift to pull the Pope up, and save him the
ascending staircase, to bis high lodgings. — Yours, J. B. M.
To the Eev. E. W. Church. Eome, April 30, 1866.
My dear Church, — I just write to you a line from the great
city, where we have been a fortnight. The whirl of sight
seeing is against forming any general view of a place, and, as far
as sentiment goes, it becomes impossible. Getting up one thing
is very like getting up anything else. The first impression one
had to account for was one's feeling so much at home in the
place. It was not like other places in this respect. One had
not that feeling of being a stranger and foreigner. I think old
school-boy reminiscences had something to do with this. It is
1 A pretty scene lives in the memory on occasion of their visit to his
mother, on their return from this foreign excursion — Amelia suddenly
descending on the home circle, laden with an arm full of offerings, hidden
in jeweller's cases, which she distributed with a characteristic sprightly
grace ; every gift showing that the purchasers had had the destined recipient
in their eye when the choice was made.

Rev. J. B. Mozley, D.D. 275
the locality of such very old familiar names and facts, every
thing that was hammered into one's head when one was twelve
years old, that one cannot well feel forlorn or estranged. One
seems to have a right here. Even the S. P. Q. E. on the
municipal placards and the Senator's carriage is sufficient to
put one at ease; and the Forum and Mons Capitolinus are
such very old friends that one does not stand on any ceremony
with them. If one had to choose a residence out of England,
Eome would have great attractions on this ground — i.e. that
one has in a sense belonged to the place so long that it would
be next in point of domesticity to being in England. Even
the severities of early school discipline, on the olim meminisse
principle, form a basis of attachment.
Now for the place as it presents itself to the eye. I think
its tristesse has been exaggerated. The number of huge blocks
of public and ecclesiastical buildings — seminaries, propagandas,
etc. etc. — impart a heaviness, so far as that goes; but the
largeness and number of piazzas, the width of the streets com
pared with other continental towns, and the splendour of some
of the palaces, produce a cheerful effect. One sees so much
sky, and does not walk about with houses tumbling on one's
head. I was not disappointed with the size of St. Peter's —
the interior. Whatever people say, it does look very large
indeed to the eye — naturally and immediately. The floor is
obviously immense. The vastness of the cequor marmoreum
upon which the pillars rest communicates itself to the erections
upon it. The effect on the eye of the interior has hardly, I
think, a word in English to describe it. If ' luscious ' had a
sublime sense, it would do in a way. It is a perfect feast to
the eye, by its perfect blending and commingling of colours in
connection with beautiful proportions and vastness. The eye
has everything it wants, though, at the same time, the effect is
palatial rather than ecclesiastical. It is, however, a kind of
%anscendental palatial, and you recognise it as sacred.
We have antiquarianised in the Forum and Colosseum,
Capitol, etc., in the ordinary way, and received the last dogmas
about sites and temples. One is astonished in the Vatican at
the immense numbers of good busts and statues of the old

276 Letters of the
world. Considering the plough had gone literaUy over every
thing, the quantity of recovery is enormous. There are so
many actual faces of the old distingues saved — you know what
they were. Even ladies' faces and fashions of dressing the
hair — sufficiently ugly many of them^are a disclosure of the
old Eoman fashionable world. And the beads are so entire
and clean — not a feature spoilt : e.g., the bust of Csesar, in the
Palazzo Eospigliosi, one sees must have been an excellent
likeness — something between Lord Brougham and J. H. K
Augustus you have every variety of, and see the change in his
features as he became older. That handsome fat youth Nero
must, as a beauty, have been criticised, though he is evidently
quite satisfied with himself. I was struck with the English
look of many of the faces : e.g. Pompey, in the famous Spada
statue. We have not yet seen the Pope, though he has been
seen. He goes out for his drive, they say, eveiy day about
three o'clock, or later, and sometimes gets out of his carriage
and walks ; but one has no means of knowing in what direction
he drives. We saw Antonelli in the Botunda in the Vatican,
looking, at a spare moment, at the new Hercules. He is very
polite, and gave us a sweeping bow, with uplifted hat, in
passing. . . . W. Palmer has been most good-natured in show
ing us about, though, he says, this is an office he has had to
do for so many, that he might as well turn cicerone, and charge
his scudi. He has got up Eome in a way that only a Palmer
could — exhausting every fact, speculation, and conjecture—
BasUicas, Forum, Catacombs, everything. Though he only
gives as much in bis explanations as he thinks his hearers
capable of receiving ; the amount of the discharge is extraordi
nary. ... "*
Palmer admitted that the exclusion of the upper classes
of Italians from public business was a great evil, throw
ing them upon a volatile life as the alternative. They have
not the idea of labour, he says, in their beads, and view life
simply as a succession of amusements. One sees them on the
Pincian. They dress quietly, and very much like Englishmen ;
but one's eye catches odd things occasionally one would not
see in England ; e.g., a young swell driving round the Pincian

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 277
in a most elegant basket- carriage, with a pair of horses and a
postilion, himself alone in his carriage, smoking. That Pin
cian, by the way, is a most extraordinary scene — fashionable
ladies and gentlemen, priests, clerical students in black, white,
and red, friars with the cords hanging from their waists, sleek
Monsignors, etc., all mixed together in the promenade-recrea
tion of the day. Several families have managed to retain their
pictures. It is, by the way, one of the features of Eome, which
makes one feel at home in it, that it is such a centre and
collection of originals of old familiar groups, and figures, and
heads, that one has known ever since one was born.
"We met the other day Mrs. Eamsay, the translator of Dante,
a very handsome, intelligent woman, though talking with such
extreme Scotch it was sometimes not easy to follow her. Her
favourite here is Cardinal Andrea, now sent away from Eome
for his liberalising bias. He is, she says, a really devout man,
and a fervent man, but he cannot bear the political Papacy.
He is a good Catholic, but says the Eeformation was the fault
of Eome : be is a friend of Mrs. Eamsay, who seems to have
seen a good deal of him. They are very much afraid of him
•here, and there is a row going on now ; and a fierce letter of
Andrea's is talked about. The distinction is great between the
streets of Genoa, placarded with addresses to electors and con-
cittadini, and the streets of Eome, where, besides the municipal
notifications, the only public notice I have seen is a Vendita
dei Cavalli stuck up on the Palazza Doria — the Prince being
announced to preside over it. Fox-bunting is a rising movement.
Jockey-cap ladies' work-boxes are seen in the shop-windows,
and the omnibuses caU themselves ApoUo, La Volpe, dividing
themselves between the old and new claims. At Leghorn
the engines were Petrarch, Boccaccio, etc. The lottery goes on
with undiminished popularity. — With kindest remembrances
to Mrs. Church, yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister. Eome, April 30, 1866.
• • . We are charmed with the Campagna and its mountains,
the distant pieces of bright green come out so in the spring,

278 Letters of the
and the variations of lights and shades on the mountains in
this clear air, which reveals the minutest slope and ravine,
makes the whole like one of those pictures inserted in a
crystal. I do not, however, remember a single passage in
Horace in praise of Eoman scenery, which he must have had
before him every time he took bis walk out of Eome, although
he is full of the woods and cascades of Tivoli : from which I
argue that the ancient eye for scenery was not nearly equal to
the modern.
One is amused with the pedigrees of things one sees. The
bronze columns of the Altar of the H. S. in the Lateran were
taken from the temple of the Capitoline Jupiter; but the
descent does not stop here — the Capitoline Jupiter took them
from the beaks of the ships taken in the battle of Actium.
The font in St. Peter's was Adrian's sarcophagus. The Popes
take the old Eoman Emperors' sarcophagi for their own.
There is a system of accommodation and transference.
There is no wish among the English to see the Sardinian
Parliament here, and certainly, as a tourist, I cannot but feel
some sympathy with old Eome, classical and mediaeval, which
would be somewhat damaged by converting it into a modern
capital with all its new offices, legislative chambers, new Court,
etc. — in a word, making it a modern business place. There is a
great deal to be said for Florence continuing the Italian capital
even if the Papal State became absorbed in the Italian kingdom.
. . . We just drove through the Ghetto, and made acquaintance
with the features of the ancient colony, the very same identical
one which St. Paul addressed in the Acts. In driving through
the Piazza Navona — the large market — the man pointed with
his whip to the line of pavement which separated the Christian
stalls from the Jewish— Qui Cbristiani la Ebrei. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Sorrento, May 8, 1866.

My dear Anne, — Among the many things I have imag
myself seeing, I do not remember myself ever expecting to
be a spectator of the miracle of St. Januarius. Certainly it

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 279
was not a scene to confirm belief in miracles in any one who
was shaky. It was difficult to make out at all accurately what
sort of behef the rehgious section of the community have in it.
Of course the world at large at Naples, as elsewhere, laugh
at it. The procession was attacked by the students last year
in the streets, so it walks now with an escort of bayonets.
Bayonets stand on each side of the Altar, bayonets on each side
of the Church door. The Sardinian Government, on principle,
protects popular Festivals. People may think what they like,
but they must not assault. This is fair. But to speak of the
religious, — priests and good Catholics, — who were there. This
was the most curious part of the scene. I suppose they would
not acknowledge the thing not to be a reality. Yet the fact
was they — even the religious — except for that interval, when
everybody was struggling up the Altar steps to see the blood
after the great event — they were aU talking, laughing, handing
their snuff-boxes, and enjoying the scene, like any crowd or fair.
One ecclesiastic of rank, a remarkably intelligent-looking man,
showed, we thought, some signs of suppressed disgust. He
came in and sat in a large velvet arm-chair, in his undress garb,
within the Altar-rails, some time before the entrance of the pro
cession, waiting to receive it ; during which time he was con
versing with a number of people, laymen among the rest (it
seemed to me) about general subjects. We admired his good
address and grace of manner. At the first entrance of the pro
cession his attendants robed him with marvellous rapidity;
it was the work of a moment, and he was at his place incensing
the images as they passed before the Altar. It was evident that
they none of them in the slightest degree realised what a
miracle was. It was old custom ; it was called a miracle ; it had
the sanction of the Church. Beyond that nobody's mind went.
I heard a French priest arguing with two sceptics about it, one
of them a Yankee. He professed to be candid, but said be could
Hot account for it. The fact was so. His opponents said the
question was not about the fact but the cause ; some heat was
aPplied. He replied it was only just touched by two fingers.
They replied, of course, it was chemical heat they meant. He did
not continue the discussion. AU this was close to the momen-

280 Letters of the
tous vessel itself. The whole scene was a sort of miniature
copy of the Greek fire at Jerusalem. It was a general milk
within the Altar-rails — priests, laymen, soldiers, ladies, aU talk
ing and chatting. I was in the thick of them within the altar-
rails. There was a prayer chanted for the performance of the
miracle by an old priest, who, after he bad closed his book, was
immediately shoved down the steps by the eager crowd pressing
up close to see the wonder take place. Some ten or fifteen
minutes elapsed, during which everybody was talking, the
amusement being only heightened by the hoarse cries of the
old women — the relations of St. Januarius, who sat on the
north side of the Altar.
These extraordinary weird-looking old creatures from time to
time broke forth with their noises, which had much the effect of
a startled rookery ; Ameha said it was hke frogs. Yet, when
the sound of the bell announced the event of the liquefaction,
I observed some young priests, either really, or because they
thought it the proper thing, expressing a momentary fervent
excitement, as if something really had happened. I did not
press up to the Altar at first, but after some time I found my
way up, when I was told that the blood had retired, but would
come back again soon; and I bad hardly to wait a moment
when the points of the bayonets announced its approach, and
an old priest came struggling up the steps, through the crowd.
He then turned the glass case, containing the sacred phial or
phials, round and round, with a candle before, and, as I was
close to, I must certainly admit that liquid was inside.
Yet there were points of time at which the ceremonial was
extraordinarily picturesque, if not imposing: when the pro
cession, on its first entrance — priests, friars of different orders,
and the figures of the saints (they caU them silver) borne aloft
on shoulders, moved round and round the Church, with banners
and canopies ; every figure being saluted by the venerable rela
tions of St. Januarius, in their peculiar way. AU this, with the
gorgeous gilding and magnificent marbles of the church itself,
composed a rich and rather grand mixture. The old women
were certainly an immense addition. One was amused with
the respect paid to heretics. We were the great persons in the

&

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 281
scene, everybody giving way to us, and people on all sides being
anxious to explain everything to us.
I have said nothing about Naples. We were unfortunate in
having our first view under a Sirocco. On the land side, however
—which was the way we came — the vast rich luxuriant plain,
out of which Vesuvius rises, was very striking ; and Vesuvius
itself was clear. It is a most beautiful and majestic mountain,
and it has the extraordinary advantage of rising up in an
immense plain on both sides — for the sea is its basement on
the other side. Tourist expectations of lounging, resting
weeks, are disappointments. We had made up our minds
for an open-air holiday at Naples, but the museum, Pompen,
and, in my case, the Castle St. Elmo, provided work for us.
I obtained an order to see the dungeons of the latter, and
can testify, with sufficient certainty, that they are horrible
places. The outer circumference of the rock is galleried for
cannon ; the inner heart is hollowed out into caves and cells
for prisoners. I was shown what they told me was Poerio's
prison. If I remember right, Sir G. Bowyer, in one of his
letters to The Times, asserted it was such an agreeable roomy
apartment, with such a delightful view from it, that he should
have selected it for his holiday season. Certainly it is roomy —
a lofty large hoUow in the rock; but when one has said this, one
has said all that can be said in its favour. It is aired and lighted
by a grating at the top of the roof, and, with that exception, is
without communication with the exterior, and that is not the
actual outer air. One or two cells, I observed, were lighted by
small openings at the very top of their walls, to the outer air.
On the whole, they are utterly barbarous places, and one is
astonished when one sees them, that a European Government
should actually have used them only half-a-dozen years ago.
You would suppose their most recent use must have been in the
thirteenth or fourteenth centuries. . . . There was a paragraph
in the Naples English paper, stating, to illustrate the extra
ordinary political excitement now in the place, that nobody's
pocket had been picked for two days. The furor had been too
absorbing to admit of attention to baser things. The English
banker Mr. Turner, who seemed a shrewd old gentleman, told

282 Letters of the
me it was thought that, though the government humoured the
popular excitement to a certain extent, there was an understand
ing at bottom there would be no war. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister. Eome, May 19, 1866.
. . . We have been to some May sermons here. There is
one every evening in a church in the Corso, close by, followed
by a function and very beautiful Italian music. The sermons
are simply declamatory and perfectly empty, but excellently
pronounced in good Italian. I speak, of course, from Amelia's
and Janet's report. I myself could only catch a half sentence
every now and then. There is a studied elaborateness of pro
nunciation, to produce perfect clearness. The preacher walks
up and down a small stage ; sometimes sits down, and talks in
an easy way with his audience. When the emotional part of
the discourse begins, and the congregation are to be warmed
into devotion to the Virgin, the preacher's voice suddenly
bursts into a succession of high pitched sobbing utterances, as
if he was almost choked with emotion, not forgetting, however,
the pinch of snuff he is holding between bis finger and
thumb, which he takes in the intervals of his agitation. Or his
voice adopts a coaxing affectionate whine. After this the
congregation kneels and repeats some short prayers to the
Virgin. Then commences the hymn, which goes through a long
succession of stanzas, and is beautifully sung by trained voices
in the organ loft, the congregation joining in a short chorus at
the end of each verse. In the sermon we heard yesterday there
was nothing about the Virgin till the very last. The subject
of the discourse was the " Omnipresence of God." I saw
nothing like real interest or absorption in the congregation.
They listened quietly, but, as it seemed to me, with some in
difference. I should observe that the emotion of both preachers
was exactly alike, the sobs and everything. I do not know
whether they are taught to preach, hke our dissenters, and
have to exercise before masters in classes, but the effect was
rather like it. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 283
Throughout the whole of 1866 my mother's strength was
failing. On bis return to Shoreham, J. B. M. receives anxious
accounts of ber state. To his Sister. Shoreham, June 8, 1866.
I do not know what to think of my mother's state. There is
a faU now both in yours and Fanny's estimate of her strength.
. . . But even weakness as a symptom is uncertain, for old
people may get very weak without vital danger. As I was
sitting in the Salle de Lecture, at the Hotel Mirabeau, there
came in a very old man in black, just able to put one leg before
the other, with short steps like a chUd. He seated himself
with great difficulty in his chair, feeling his way down in his
seat every inch as he settled himself. He then put out a
trembling arm, and got hold of a newspaper. That done, I saw
that he worked away pretty well and got what he wanted.
Then all at once I said to myself, I think I know you — you
are Lord Brougham. But he was much altered, even from two
years back, when I saw him at Ardingley laying the first stone
of Woodard's School. Yet the manager of the Mirabeau, who
talked to us about hirn, described him as still with an inner
strength in him, — excessively irritable, jealous of all attempts to
control him. He found himself in bed at half-past eleven one
night, and was furious with his valet and everybody. Did they
think him a child ? He dined at the table-d'hdte every day.
Though so muscularly weak, be has that sort of strength which
enables him to travel, and had come up from Cannes to Paris
in one day. I mention this to show that weakness wants
defining — the sort of it — before it becomes alarming.
After this letter he paid a visit to Derby — a visit which was
a great pleasure and comfort to my mother.
Writing to Mr. Church, he enters upon a great question
touched on in a paper he (Mr. Church) had lately written : —

284 Letters of the
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
June 7, 1866.
. . . Your remarks upon revelation, I think, hit the naU on
the head. One feels that a religion, such as some would give
us, which is a growth of the human mind, and a revelation, or
religion in its true sense, are two totally different things, and
that one cannot do what the other does, and has done. It is
the idea, the belief that it is a revelation, which commands
and inspires the human mind. People will not respect their
own creation of religion ; and it is mere folly to think that they
will let it command and coerce them — or rather I should say a
mere dream — for some do seem to think this whom one cannot
call altogether foolish men. It is this essential difference in
the two ideas which people pass over. As you say, such a
growth cannot be a religion. The obscure rays of the spectrum
is just the illustration I should have liked to have when I was
writing. To his Sister. Shoreham, August 20, 1866.
I think our events since our Derby visit have been almost
confined to a visit from Church. We took him to Arundel and
Petworth. The Petworth gallery was quite in his way, and as
it really is a fine collection one knew he was not wasting time
in seeing it; and that it was worth a headache which, with
some satisfaction, he announced having received from it, feeling
that he had done something. . . .
We talked over Ecce Homo; be reports that Jowett, etc., do not
like it, though whether this dislike proceeds from opposition or
rivalry is not clear. As there is something fresh in old-fashioned
thought now, I have been reading the life of Scott — Bible Scott.
I am wonderfully struck with the extraordinary energy and strong
sense of the man, joined to his enthusiasm and disinterestedness.
His discrimination and power of drawing proper distinctions,
and of separating secondary from fundamental matter are very
striking. Though a Predestinarian himself, he always insisted
on its being a secondary point, on which people might differ
without the least drawback. This moderation on a point which,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 285
where people do hold it, they think so very critical and testing,
is a strong sign of his balance of mind. He seems to have
spent a considerable part of the force of his mind in keeping
doctrinal ultraism down in his own party, and it appears that
the Bible Commentary was originally undertaken principally
with that aim. Though, on minor points of social practice,
rigid and somewhat narrow, his strong sensibleness on substantial
points comes out. All this, with his great sharpness, immediate
perception of humbug, shrewdness, and remarkable working
power.make him certainly a great man. He has a perfect voracity
for work, which in one of his letters he rather subtilely analyses
and excuses. He says he does a great part of his work with the
spirit exactly of self-satisfaction in it which a journeyman
carpenter or bricklayer has. The thorough honesty of the man
is so taking. He has a great appreciation of knowledge — various
knowledge, and only restricted his own reading from a con
scientious principle. But he was obviously, in his own tastes
and inclination, omnivorous and wanting to know everything.
Some of his letters, I think, show much more acuteness, analysis
of human nature and motives, and such matter — akin to the
intellectual power of the present day — than you would expect.
His perpetual work was against this coming out in his published
writings. Had he been a more idle man be would have been
more original, for he had this latter element in him.1
To the Eev. Francis A. Faber.
September, 1, 1866.
My dear Faber, — I have not, I think, written to you since
our return, or rather, I should say, since a few hurried lines from
Eome, and now I hardly know how to begin a descriptive
epistle. I must defer an account of our impressions till some
opportunity occurs of a passing visit to Saunderton. Are not
'tourist epistles, by the way, out of date now? — and tourist
conversation too ? It seems to me everybody travels at such a
1 The reader may remember the tribute to Thomas Scott in the Apologia,
and the deep impression his character and writings made on its author in
his early youth.

286 Letters of the
rate that travelling has become nothing, and all descriptions are
become refuse articles. It is amusing, if people meet who have
common travelling ground- — cities, countries, nay continents, to
see to what very small matters of fact, and bits of information,
their whole communication is reduced, so that, after a tour is
over, the tangible residuum seems nothing. One' is aware of
going through a certain experience, having been knocked about
a little, tried one's eyes and one's legs — for nothing is so weary
ing to the latter as the hours of standing in the galleries —
and of having acquired a certain facility in turning over Murray,
and then there is little more that remains. Some great sights,
however, are stamped on the mind's eye. We got to Psestum,
which was our farthest point. The great temple there is one
of the grand buildings of the world, and should rank with St.
Peter's, the Colosseum, St. Paul's, etc. I did not think before
hand such an effect could have been produced by simple Greek
architecture before the Arch. . . .
Among sights I must not omit Pio Nono. I must modify,
however, the melancholy sentiment which attaches to him.
I believe be enjoys himself immensely, and likes being Pope.
I see it in his face. He is as happy as possible. He has
hved in threatening times, but they told me he was by natural
constitution not sensitive, but took things easy. Then the
triple crown is another sight. It did not look so awful as we
expected ; on the contrary, if there is any epithet I should apply
to it, I should say it was pretty; the jewelled brightness makes
it look quite white. You remember it, I daresay. . . .
The grandeur of the streets of palaces has almost excited my
curiosity about the Genoese families. You know it is Stanley's
principle — the aid of sight to history. There is a great deal in
it. After one has seen a place, one wants to know about the
people. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister. October, 1866.
Mr. Wilkinson's paper is a very clear exposure of the audacious
exegesis of Ecce Homo. It is only too short, and one arrives at

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 287
the end of it before one wants. I see the notice in the Contem
porary is deprecatory, but does not deny the justice of the
criticism upon such interpretation of Scripture. The unfair
limitation in the area of the book and the range of facts which
it takes cognisance of is very compactly stated.
I have been reading Le Maudit. It lets one into a new
department of life and facts altogether, and I think something
may be got out of it, though one does not go along always with
the author, and has some doubt as to what bis improved
CathoUcism is. His glorification of Paris, too, is fanatical. —
Yours, J. B. M.
The Tablet having quoted with commendation a passage
from Father Faber's posthumous works, in which he makes
a remarkable assertion about the Archangel Michael, J. B. M.
writes : — To his Sister. Shoreham, October 30, 1866.
Faber is certainly very amusing. ... I may use that term
because his spiritual world is so completely a region of his own
invention that one ceases to connect it with serious subjects.
The decision of a controversy by a fact about St. Michael,
hitherto unknown, but assumed as an undoubted celestial fact
because his pen knocked it off with perfect ease, is quite a
specimen of Faber's reasoning. . . .
I have been reading Felix Holt. With aU his honesty and
artisan grandeur there is an odiousness about him which made
me at his trial long for his transportation, and sorry when he
escaped that peril. There is a want of reality about the char
acter, however, which prevents one from treating him wholly
as an actual person. He is the impersonation of ideas. Harold
is a capital character, thoroughly natural. — Yours,
J. B. M.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
December, 1866.
I have written to Pusey. It appeared to me that somebody
ought to call his attention to the real ground taken in that

288 Letters of the
affair in The Guardian. Though I was far from the best person
to do it, if it was to be done it had better not be delayed. I
always feel, with respect to Pusey, that he does not make
account of that necessary modification of relations which is
occasioned by advance of years. This is a consideration over
and above any particular ground one has adopted which he
may disapprove.
So M. has Brightstone. It is a beautiful parsonage — at least
as seen surmounting the churchyard wall ; quite a model of
the old creeper-covered combination of rusticity with refine
ment, whence issued, some thirty years ago, S. 0. to the battle
of life. What a brilliant storm out of what a haven ! — but
the former suited him better. . . .
I was glad to see The Guardian taking up the alteration in
the Christian Year, and bringing out the weak point in the
case of the alteration — that there was only an intention, not an
act, of change on the part of the author. It seems to me a real
distinction. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In November James Mozley and his wife paid another visit
to his mother. It interested and revived ber. The beginning
of December he returned to Shoreham : receiving constant
reports till the end. To his Sister.
Shoreham, December 26, 1866.
We like much to hear all that there is to say, though the very
¦ slow steps must make it difficult for you to observe and see
the differences which really take place from day to day. I
quite understand the sort of dreamy watching that must go on.
To me who am absent, there is not of course this watching.
The effect of it upon my mind I find rather to be an immense
vista of the past, which is always either before me or close to
me. At the approach of a great end and close, the past comes
out as the past ; it is separate from the present. It is a long
reach, such a life, and goes back into such — to one's own
imagination — early and primitive times. On looking acciden-

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 289
tally at the title-page of Mr. Wayland's sermons, and seeing the
date on it 1816, it came with a sort of surprise on me that my
mother had then been sixteen years a married woman. And yet,
compared with books of the day, the volume — its paper, print,
and everything — looked quite an antiquity.
Do you remember the sermon on " The Greatness and Little
ness of Human Life," in J. H. N.'s fourth volume ? I read it to
Fanny Winton1 yesterday, who always expects a sermon on
Christmas-day ; there are so many natural points of view in the
sermon, and it meets so completely the wants of a reader who
happens to have the subject in his mind. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Sister. Shoreham, January 9, 1867.
There is only one announcement which we can expect now,
and we shall expect it of course to-morrow. Nothing can be
more peaceful or more suitable as a scene of closing life than
that you describe. I am very glad that you mentioned me to
her when you did, and elicited the notice and recollection of
me at such a time, and the message, as I may call it, to me.
Ever since those letters received from you about ten days ago,
which obviously marked the last stage, and described a con
dition of such absolute passiveness and quietude, I felt for ber
almost as a person out of the world. So your note this after
noon has not made such an alteration in my state of mind. I
have no doubt that the sense of the actual departure will be more
forcible in a little time than it is now. And there is something in
the death of the aged which makes it a more solemn event,
though more natural than that of the young. I mean in this
respect, that it is the fair working out of mortal life, In
premature deaths there is an idea of something accidental — if
. this complaint had not been caught, if over-work, or climate, or
l|omething had not come in ; but here one has human life before
one in its fulness and completeness, and it is in its nature seen
to be a transient state. Old people always look like barriers
A poor parishioner, blind, and for many years bedridden, to whom
»• B. M. and his wife were unremitting in care and spiritual attention to
, ™ end of her life.

290 Letters of the
between the younger generation and the end — a sort of defence,
so to speak. When they go, a kind of protection seems to be
gone, and one feels an alteration in one's position.
In my mother's case this is very strong. She has been such
a centre of the family, keeping up its first and earliest form
almost, through so long a course of years ; for the Friary always
seems to identify one with thirty or forty years ago. It is very
seldom that the early type lasts so long. In most famUies it is
scattered to the winds very soon, and not a trace of the original
is left. The termination of such a state of things is a great
change to one's-self, and seems in a way to make one a different
person. I shall retain her parting message to me as a solemn and at
the same time pleasing recollection throughout my Ufe. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
My mother died in ber 84th year. After aU was over he
writes : — To his Sister. January 10, 1867.
My letter yesterday was so complete an anticipation of your
note this morning, that I seem to have already written what I
am writing now. It is the end of a long, remarkably complete
life — I might add patriarchal ; for, having been the survivor of
my father for twenty years, my mother included in herself all
the parental relations. She was the sole centre all this long
time ; she was very fit to be ; this is especially the life of a
mother. She has had, one may say, no other Ufe, and it brought
ber out extraordinarily in one region of a mother's feeling:—
namely pride in ber children. This was indeed a great part of
— if one may caU it so — ber power. She kept things together
very remarkably, and there was something very effective about
it. The feeling was a real influence. It is a great gift to
people to be able to be proud of persons who are not them
selves. It necessarily gives a parent great hold over her
children. Of course all good mothers have it, but I think it^j
was more of a strong principle in my mother, and had far more
force and vigour than it has in the minds of most mothers. i

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 291
It was remarkable that this feeling was not accompanied by
any of the common worldly aims for ber children. She never
seemed to have advancement in life, in the ordinary sense, in
her view. Nor did her own increasing years — nor, I must add,
those of her sons — ever put the idea into her head. She was
faithful to her own just, simple ideas on the subject to the very
last. That she should have lived to see the University careers of
her grandsons was very happy for her. It gave a brightness to
the dechhe of hfe ; it was just what she would have hoped for.
. . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. January 22,1867.
. . . Amelia went to Westminster Abbey on Sunday and
heard Stanley. It was a sermon on marriage, taken from the
Gospel of the day. He recommended it strongly, even ear
nestly and warmly, and Ameha said it almost amounted to a
' declaration of his own experience of the state. Among other
things, marriage, he said, was a shelter from the tyranny of the
world and the tyranny of the Church. It was her impression
that the sermon would on the whole do good, the tendency
being to induce a class of loose hangers-on upon general society
to take that step. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
This letter a propos of Mr. Stanley encloses an extract : —
" Did I teU you," writes Mr. Church, " that Stanley dined at
Eogers' when I was in town, full of talk, chiefly about Eome ?
He did not seem to have seen Antonelli ; but there was a Mon-
signor Nardi, a man whom he described as being, like the
Pope's face, charming and saintlike if you looked from one
side, and heard of him from one set of people ; perfectly dia
bolical and malignant if you looked at him on the other, and
?heard what the other set thought. He took off Monsignor
Nardi and his Italian gesticulations and tones with very accom
plished action. He met the Bishop of Orleans, who told him
of a visit he had from Pusey. Pusey came to talk Eirenikon
and Council of Trent with him, just as be was going to sit

292 Letters of the
down to a great banquet with aU the dons and swells of
Orleans ; the General and Prefect and Chief Judge, and all
the rest. He told Pusey that be could not wait, but that he
should be delighted to take him to the dinner ; to which Pusey
went. ' Et pour me servir d'une expression mondaine, il y eut
un tres-grand succh' with the General, Prefect, and Co."
J. B. M. to the Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, February 20, 1867.
. . . Have you seen the Bishop of Orleans' pamphlet ? It is
a fearful expose" of the French mind. He quotes right and left ;
of course Eenan among the rest. I did not know before the
outrageous speculative fanaticism of the man; it is beyond
anything. He gravely suggests the idea of the general Eesur-
rection being accomplished by physical science. Who knows ?
— be says. This seems a different element from the purely
positivist in him. . . .
Poor Lady Jersey's death was an interesting one to my
neighbour Townsend. He and she were great friends once. I
say interesting rather than melancholy, for be has passed the
latter sort of impression. She was very fond of talking litera
ture and poetry with him, and he went often to Middleton.
She was very skilful in bringing out persons, and threw herself
into what they said. But he said you could not help being
uncomfortable rather, and saying to yourself, What is aU this
about ? — why does she want you to talk ? It was a problem
that sat upon you all the time. Of course, she made use of
Townsend's critical results, and retaUed them in the next
party as her own, being clever enough for anything. She
aspired to the character of patroness of clever men, but I dare
say there mingled some real pleasure in talking with a genuine
mind, which people may admire on the outside, choosing the
artificial line for themselves. He says she was artificial witlr|
all her grace. I suppose it was the fault of the George the j
Fourth epoch— the finest gentleman in Europe.
Writing shortly after : —
I have written to W. Palmer to prepare him for Sir J. I
M

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 293
Colvile calling on him. I think they will be both pleased
and amused with him. It must be confessed he insists on
considerable continuity of attention, and does not encourage
wandering thoughts. I heard from Frank Faber that he
(W. Palmer) had been proposing to translate Newman's recent
letter into Italian, but had been stopped by the Jesuits, at
which he was irate and gave that body a lick with the rough
side of his tongue. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Shoreham, March 9, 1867.
My dear Church, — What an extraordinary state of the
political world ! E. Palmer certainly comes out as a prophet ;
he first uttered the dreadful word, "Household Suffrage," though
Dizzy is the first Prime Minister that has. One sees Glad
stone's tone altered, and feeling coming out. If one did want
to be the granter of reforms to the country, it must be trying to
have the prize caught just before one by Dizzy. On the other
hand, how Dizzy must enjoy it! But we must wait. I bear of
other moves — that J. H. Newman reaUy is going to Oxford.
This comes from Miss S. There have been so many osciUations
in rumour, but this does sound rather authentic. Will Newman,
under Coleridge's bill, really resume his M.A. and vote in
Congregation ? What a ghost to rise up before the old Heads
—as many as survive ! I have a pamphlet on the Colonial
Church question on the stocks. It looks at it mainly in one
point of view, viz., as connected with the Inspiration question ;
but I do not go into that question. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
The Eev. E. W. Church to J. B. M.
Whatley Eectory, June 6, 1867.
Dear Mozley, — Will you notice Tyndall ? He seems to me
to lay himself open ; and the Pall Mall comment on " un
scientific criticism" equally. Just as if one mind is not as
good as another, on the reasonableness and use of miracles,
whether familiar or not with the laws of nature. And reaUy
Tyndall seems incapable of apprehending what the argument
te attacks really is. . . . Yours affectionately, E. W. C.

294 Letters of the
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, June 8, 1867.
My dear Church, — I am not thinking of answering Tyndall,
but the article certainly appeared to me to lay itself open on
the point you mention. It seems to make such a claim to an
esoteric infallibility in scientific men, and to put the thing on
the ground of faith with regard to other men ; " Your reason
ing is nonsense ; you know nothing about it ; you must believe
ms." Indeed, the esoteric intuition he claims for men of
science appears to be even in them a land of faith. They
despise reasoning. The " unscientific criticism " hits the nail on
the head, as a phrase — aU the better, of course, for witnessing
as a phrase to its own Liberal origin. ... T. is a friend of
Beresford Hope, who, I suppose, is one of the " loving, candid,"
religious men whom he admires. There is a kind of genial
tone in his writing which is amusing and rather attractive.
He walks in Bedgebury Park during the hours of service on the
Sundays, announcing to the company that that is his mode of
worshipping the Author of Nature. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister.
Shoreham, December 4, 1867.
I suppose you are aU of you congratulating yourselves on
your new bishop. I must own myself to a certain tinge of
regret that the Bishop of New Zealand should alter his name.
It is a great name gone. Lichfield is a different thing. It
rather divides the unity of bis life and destroys the whole there ]
was before. To the disbelievers in romance it is the sort of issue
which tends to confirm their own standard, although this would
not be quite fair, as certainly the great proportion of his life
has been a romantic one. It is a pity, too, as far as it goes, to
bring him into the party struggles of the Church at home, when
his was almost a universal name as Bishop of New Zealand.
However, your diocese wUl benefit by the loss of the Colonial .
Church.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 295
The letter goes on to give his first impressions of a visitor
who, to those who knew him, was one of the influences of their
lives— Mr. Eose, Bector of Weybridge, and uncle of Edith Price,
to whom our nephew John Eickards Mozley was engaged.
We were much flattered by Mr. Eose's kind account of bis
call here. It was a very pleasant one to us. He is evidently a
man who keeps his eye open to everything that is going on,
and he expresses himself easily and compactly, and introduces
an agreeable succession of subjects, giving variety and liveliness
to the conversation. It is the opposite character to what I
have observed in some, who go on upon the first point that
happens to start, and exhaust it in lesser and lesser remarks
after the principal ones have passed, staying on the same
ground perpetually. He was much pleased with J. E.'s Infinity
argument with the Germans he met abroad somewhere. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — This is my first direction to Barrow.1
The Eev. E. W. Church to J. B. M.
Whatley Eectory, February 11, 1868.
Dear Mozley, — I spent two or three days in London last
week with Eogers. I did two things. I went over the Abbey
with Stanley, who was good enough to give us a morning. He
is a very good guide, and has it all on bis fingers' ends. It is
certainly a very impressive place. There is a sort of effect of
being in a dream, and meeting all sorts of strange people, from
Edward the Confessor to Thackeray, really brought close to
you in actual existence, and yet only present by tokens and
signs of the most heterogeneous kind ; and we had a fine day,
and the Abbey itself was very noble. The other thing was
a lecture of T.'s, at the Eoyal Institution. It was said not
to be one of his best ; but his experiments were curious and
1 A village near Derby, on the banks of the Trent, where his eldest and
youngest sister had, after visits at Shoreham and elsewhere, now settled,
their two sisters continuing to live in Derby.

296 Letters of the
neat, and uniformly successful. But all the time I could not
help a kind of sense of the inconsistency of the man, such as
be appeared to me, claiming to bring all truth within what he
called science. There was hard-beadedness, originality, and
sometimes a touch of imagination. But there seemed to be
also a hard and hopeless one-sidedness, as if nothing in the
world would open his eyes to the whole domain of soul and
spirit close about bim, and without which he would not be
talking and devising wonderful experiments. — Ever yours
affectionately, E. W. C.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, February 13, 1868.
Dear Church, — I always think the Abbey wonderfully
adapted to Stanley as an historical building, but at the same
time the building itself — the interior — must be greatly wasted
on him. The architecture of the interior seems to me always
extraordinarily designed to excite the sense of mystery in the
mind. I know no interior in England equal to it in this
respect. But I should think that a sense in which Stanley was
singularly deficient. The account of T. exactly agrees with
the character of his writings. There seems a tendency in
these men to place the material world, as yon say, in point of
dignity above the soul which finds out everything about it. So
it becomes literally a great wood and stone idol which they
worship ; the individual seems a minute insignificant thing in
their eyes. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — So poor Dornford is gone — an old Oriel recoUection
more to me than to you. He was my tutor at first.
To the Same. April 9, 1868.
I had a letter from that queer fellow Eowland WUliams the
other day, informing me that he had devoted the first day of
Lent to reading my Bampton Lectures, and proceeded to make
some comment on them. The choice of the day was not com-

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 297
plimentary to the gratifying powers of the author, but I was
glad that he was orthodox enough to keep Lent in his own
way. How quick the blow has fallen on the Irish Church !
When the ground has been long preparing you seem only to
have to strike. J. B. M.
P.S. — We meditate starting for Venice on Monday.
Venice, April 28, 1868.
My dear Church, — We have been here a week from MUan,
through 150 miles of mulberry trees. The approach by the
railway is very striking — you seem to plunge, engines and
everything, into the sea, and see nothing but sea and lagune
around you for some three miles ; so that Venice is still seen
rising out of the water as you approach. I say this because
one expected the approach to be spoilt. I do not know when
you were here. Travellers, who were here several years ago,
pronounce the place very little altered. The people are
evidently cock-a-hoop and jolly at their freedom; the Piazza
of St. Mark is full of a buzzing, smoking, ice and coffee enjoy
ing crowd every night from 7 to 10. Buskin's transcendental
description of the interior of St. Mark's rather makes the reality
fall flat. It wants general effect, though the detaUs, tracing
borders, capitals, etc., are exquisite. It struck me rather as a
bronze church — the interior I mean — variegated and patched
with gilt and other colours by the air, in course of ages. Euskin,
you know, describes a perfect vision of colour. I should say
St. Peter's was this. But this colour is of that utter deadness
in St. Mark's that you have to extract it by imagination. I do
not know whether this agrees with your recollection. One
knows half of Venice before one sees it, and the exterior of
the Doge's Palace was what one had seen it in prints ; but the
grandeur and gorgeousness of the interior — the large hall and
specially the ceilings — took me ¦ by surprise. There is something
horrible, however, in the old workman sitting with all his tools
about him, lions'-mouth, prisons, torturing irons, execution cells,
aperture for throwing body out into the canal — all under one
roof, and your civilisation sermon occurred to me ; for certainly,
somehow or other, in this very Venice, Government now, and a

298 Letters of the
very good one, seems to go on quite spontaneously. So far
from these frightful methods being needed, Government has
almost ceased to be an art. It is simply public opinion.
Government is restoring a good deal, among the rest Saint
Donate and the Fondacbi Turchi. We have been to TorceUo,
according to your recommendation. It is a wonderful httle
voyage through that archipelago of little islets, each with its
campanile, church, or city some thousand years old. The old
Duomo almost carries one back to the age of the fathers;
indeed one seems here, generaUy, to hve in an earlier stage of
antiquity than one does at home — where age borders on the
patristic ; is more than mediaeval. St. Mark's is more Eastern
and Constantinopolitan than Venetian. Venetian sentiment
comes out more, I think, in the Frari and San Zampolo, where
the monuments of the old Doges are. The recumbent figures
high up in the wall are a new fact to me. The equestrian
statues in the same position were the same.
Florence, May 16, 1868.
My dear Church, — I write a line to you from your quondam
borne. We have been here a week, having taken Padua,
Vicenza, Verona, and Bologna on our way. There is of course
an enormous deal to do here, and one becomes a perfect chaos
of the contents of galleries, which test the weak framework
of memory rather severely. One finds one's-self testing it
by the photographs in the windows. The place is increas
ing in answer to the demands upon it. New piazzas rising
up. . . . We have been to the Chamber of Deputies. There
is a total absence of ceremonial, and a man in an easy
morning-coat sits where our gowned and wigged Speaker
sits ; so that our House compared with this one represents
the old regime. The great passion of the Italian public
now is the Princess Margberita. The Government is getting
capital out of her to cement the union of Italy. They work
her hard ; every morning at some pubUc institution, every
evening at the Prato, where she. distributes her bows very
gracefully and cordially. Her deadly pale complexion is
accompanied with a very sweet expression, and, though not

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 299
regularly beautiful, I can quite fancy her charming and
fascinating everybody. For one who has to bow so much as
she has, her lively flexible movement is advantageous. I
observed especially that she bowed back so well, a difficult
thing to do elegantly, but very useful to one who must find
herself continually just catching people after she has nearly
¦driven past them. They have sent her now to Genoa. The
King [Victor Emmanuel] does not interfere with her, but keeps
at a respectful distance, though we saw him too on the Prato.
He is rather superior to his common portraits — not quite so
truculent-looking. We found ourselves the other day, on entering a church,
San Lorenzo, assisting at a Mass for one of the Medici. But
whether it was a Cosmo or a Lorenzo, I cannot say. The
priests here are evidently a snubbed race. One never by any
chance sees them speaking to a gentleman ; always with each
other, or with some common man. There seem, however,
plenty of services and sermons. There is no appearance any
where in Italy of religion having died away, and having less
hold upon the people than it has in other Eoman Catholic
countries. Of the educated Italian Liberals, however, the only
article of religion seems to be Dante. He reigns everywhere,
statues multiplying ; and yet I cannot imagine any real ad
miration of Dante without a religious belief of some kind. — '
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Shoreham, August 6, 1868.
My dear Church, — You were lucky in your two great
mountains. I only saw the four tops of Monte Eosa, like
spikeheads in the sky, between Lugano and Lucerne. I must
see the Matterhorn some day, from your description of it, having
a strong fancy for heights. We think of going to Dublin to
the Congress ; rather a dull affair, I am afraid, now that this
Irish question has come on : — everything talked of except the
one thing people care about. I met Neate in London the
other day, much pulled down in health. He was much in
terested in the approaching Papal Council, anticipating a
dreadful religious breakdown on the Continent, " the Catholic

300 Letters of the
form of Christianity " crushed, and nothing in its place. He
complained too of the universal " chaff " which religious ques
tions bad turned into here ; that he could get no other answer
from people, giving S. 0. a rap on this point. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
In the autumn of 1868 James Mozley visited Ireland, and
attended the Dublin Church Congress.
To his Sister.
Shoreham, November 21, 1868.
Our Irish tour was both pleasant at the time, and is also
pleasant to look back upon. It is a gain to have seen some
remarkable men, and to have made acquaintance with the Irish.
It was a fresh kind of scene to me, and an agreeable and
amusing one. In the absence of society here, such things are
the natural compensation, and perhaps it is as good a form of
seeing society as any. Archdeacon Lee was a most agreeable
acquaintance to make ; a man of perpetual readiness and
quickness, and unwearied courtesy which always came quite
fresh from him, and had not the look of any straining. It
was the more striking in combination with a very learned
character. Then Todd and Fitzgerald, both specimens of the
student type not often equalled— Todd, in bis deal-furnished
study, surrounded with his Irish mss. and Irish MS. diction
aries, was a curious picture indeed ; himself just like a clergy
man of an engraving a century and a half ago that you might
turn up in some old book. It must have been the most genuine
enthusiastic love which carried him through the rough materials
he had surmounted. His bad health was but too apparent,
and threw a shade of melancholy over the scene. Fitzgerald
is more of the philosopher, but has stUl the quiet isolated
stooping air and figure of the student, though joined with con
siderable ease and elegance of manner. There seemed to me a
deeper vein of satire in him than he liked to reveal openly, but
one caught glimpses of it. As for passing events, it would be
very difficult to disturb him, and the perfect serenity with which
be pronounced upon the certain prospects of the Irish Church,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 301
though he had only a couple of months before made his strong
speech in the House of Lords, showed rather Mr. Wayland's
type of passive non-resistance and great mastery over all anxiety.
I must pay a passing tribute to the cliffs of Moher — very
grand ; the finest specimen, taking height, colour, and confor
mation altogether, of cliff scenery I ever saw. Kilkee was not
very striking ; Killarney was — the metallic bronze colour of
the mountains and their forms and interconnections. . . .
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Shoreham, December 9, 1868.
... I have obtained favour in an unexpected quarter,
namely, with Kenelm Digby. He is such an old name, with his
Mores Catholici, which one used to turn over ages ago, that
one regards him almost as an old friend. I do not think,
however, poetry, of which he has just published a volume,
which he has sent me, is his forte ; very good and serious, but
in fact, as poetry, the queerest rigmarole you can conceive.
However, in a poem on the supernatural, he versifies some
passages in the Bampton Lectures. I need not say how eccen
tric a specimen of the Muse it is. There is a fine old fragrance
however, about his reputation, and he is one of the learned
names of the age.
Stanley will be a difficulty probably to Gladstone some
day. The elevation of Tait has, as a Liberal precedent, cleared
the way rather for him. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Early in January 1869 Mr. Gladstone offered to J. B. M.
the Canonry of Worcester then vacant. Amongst the official
letters connected with the appointment, which followed on my
' brother's acceptance, is one touching on the office and function
of Canons.
The Eight Hon. W. E. Gladstone to J. B. M.
Hawarden, Jan. 17, 1869.
My dear Mr. Mozley, — When I had bad time to receive the

302 Letters of the
Queen's approval of your appointment, I sent you an intimation
of it ; and I now think you will like to see the enclosed letter
from the Dean of Worcester, which please to return.
Our neighbour Bishop here, the Bishop of Chester1 (who is
not our Diocesan), much approves of your appointment.
Among the Canons of our Cathedrals, even, and perhaps
especially since 1840, there are but few who have contributed
or are likely to contribute much to the theological store of the
Church of England in this day of her pressing need. I rejoice
that my first act in this province of my duty has been to pro
mote the addition to their number of one who, as to both promise
and performance, is sufficient sensibly to raise the average.
You will be grieved to hear that the Bishop of Salisbury
lies almost at the point of death. Yesterday's account was a
trifle better. — Beheve me, sincerely yours,
W. E. Gladstone.
J. B. M. to his Brother, T. M.
January 30, 1869.
Many thanks for your congratulations. We go to Worcester
on Monday, and I hope to be installed on Wednesday. The
Dean [Dr. John Peel] has welcomed me in most cordial and
agreeable letters, but I am sorry to say his state of health is
such that he will not be able to receive us. . . . The greatest
part of the restoration of the Cathedral is accomplished. . . .
The Dean, you know, is a most munificent public-spirited man,
and has been himself the principal restorer. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Worcester, May 10, 1869.
What quick business they have made of the Irish Church
Bill! I see the Bishops have ingeniously hit upon the ex
pedient of diverting public attention from themselves and
transferring it upon the Deans and Chapters. . . . Our Dean
is in a great taking about it, and is going up, in spite of his
gout, to the meeting at Lambeth. This proposal to abolish one
' Dr. Jacobson.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 303
canonry out of four in every cathedral, in order to found
suffragan bishoprics — i.e. to do their work — is about as cool a
case as I have heard of.
I have made acquaintance with Mrs. Davison, the repre
sentative, after the interval of a generation, of Prophecy
Davison. It is almost the resuscitation of an old generation.
She becomes ber associations, has a venerable, sweet counte
nance, a Uvely and quick understanding in conversation, and
a musical voice. . . . She expressed, by the way, very quietly
and gently, some surprise that Judge Coleridge bad not asked
her for letters of Keble's. I hope we shaU know more of her.
We have seen a good deal of the.Dean — certainly a very accom
plished man, one of those artistic talkers of the old school,
with great poetical tastes, and one of those retentive and apt
memories which Ulustrate conversation so well. We have had
some most grotesque old Court anecdotes from him. He
remembers Christ Church days of old, Lloyd and Bull, tutors,
etc. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To the Eev. E. W. Church. May 18, 1869.
... I do not myself agree with certain plans of reforms
for Chapters which I have seen, professing to utilise tbem by
attaching local employment to them ; for example, inspector
ships of diocesan schools, superintendence of diocesan church
building societies, of S.P.G. and S.P.C.K. proceedings. This is
the sort of thing. Such schemes would end in nothing but
bringing forward a minor sort of practical local men who
like this sort of work, and would lay themselves out for place
in this way. It would, moreover, end in the Bishops having
practically all the canonries in their gift. Government could
not appoint local men of this sort, except simply from the
recommendation of the Bishops. It would disconnect, mean
while, the cathedrals from the great stream of theological and
philosophical thought in the Church, and make tbem mere
representatives of diocesan boards and committees. . . . But
whatever one may think of Chapter reform, I object in limine

304 Letters of the
to the subject being brought forward in this sort of way, merely
as a tail to the episcopal question. . . . What right have the
Bishops, at a time when public opinion was quiet, and nothing
stirring against Deans and Chapters, to get up a cry against
them ? . . . Everything now tends to drive this [the claims of
learning and thought] to the wall — to give everything to busy
men. A proportion ought to be insisted upon. I see Stanley
and Mansel take this hne ; there can be no doubt that G. has it
in his mind to rectify the disproportion. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Worcester, June 18, 1869.
Your sermon brings out the distinction in St. Paul's mind
— wise and unwise — as an eternal distinction in the human
race, very strikingly. One would not have thought beforehand
that one needed to be reminded of the permanence of it ; yet
we get such a habit of assigning a meaning for tlie day to
New Testament phrases, that it is a surprise to feel that
exactly the same persons are going on now, and the same
state of things. I don't think persons realise the truly
archaic aboriginal class the poor are, and you bring the fact
home to tbem. All my experience is for the want of educa
tion being such an enormous want. I confess I fulfil my rela
tions to them rather in the spirit of a debtor than that of an
enthusiastic fraterniser. But you put the obligation in a fresh
light to people. Indeed, this double element in society is a
wonderful fact — the pertinacious primitiveness that, after all,
adheres to the backbone or mass of the world's existence, the
intellect being a mere fragment.
I am glad you coincide with my remarks on Copeland ; there
is a certain satiety of the modern style that carries one back
with pleasure to the old great men. So it may be to some
extent a love of change that acts on one. But yet there is
something more. The quiet statement seems to have more
magnanimity and faith in it, as if to say, This is our view ;
if you see it, so much the better for you ; if you do not see it,

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 305
we shall not resort to violent modes of persuading you. How
ever, practically there is a difference between admiring people
and being able to imitate them. . . .
To the Same. Shoreham, August 10, 1869.
... I spent a day with Copeland, the end of last month.
He goes back to Nonjuring days, and brought back vividly to
one the deep, ancient root of anti-state principles in the school
of the Norris and Watsons ; and how curiously this antiquated
current mingles now with the great present rush in the same
direction. It reads like a Sibylline prophecy. We were ex
ceedingly pleased with his new church ; such exquisite carving
in the capitals of the piUars, and all representing and doing
justice to a vast amount of work and tasteful consideration.
We are just settled down again, having spent the month in a
circuit of family and other visits. We were much pleased
with my sisters' new home at Barrow. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
The following letter was written on the death of a College
friend and early intimate, whose name has appeared in these
pages ::— To Miss Bridges. Shoreham, August 10, 1869.
My dear Miss Bridges, — It was with surprise and grief
that I saw the announcement of your brother's death. I did
not know that he had been ill. I had not seen him for many
years, but letters passed occasionally between us, and we kept
up in heart our old Oxford friendship, though circumstances
had not favoured our meeting each other. Indeed it does not
require meeting often, to keep up the feeling of an early friend
ship, begun in under-graduate days, when we were both at Oriel
together, and continued when we were both Fellows of Col
leges, residing at Oxford. The feeling is as fresh in my mind
as if it were only a few months since. He had a generous,
affectionate mind, which attached everybody to him, and there
1 See pp. 48, 49.
u

306 Letters of the
was a liveliness and freshness in his views of things, and what
came out of him in conversation, which made it very delightful
to be with him. There was a brightness about his disposition
and qualities of mind which give a vividness to all my recoUec-
tions of bim ; and if we had chanced to meet anywhere of
late, I believe I should have met him as if there had been no
interval at all since our College days. I was hoping he might
come to see me at Worcester, knowing bis fondness for cathedral
service. We used to go together to the Oxford chapel services,
and he would ask the choristers to his rooms. I can hardly
realise that he is gone, his death has come so suddenly upon
me. . .
Might I ask you to be so very kind as to acknowledge these
few lines, and tell me what you are able to tell me about him.
I have been quite cut off from hearing of him. The announce
ment in the papers is aU I know.
I had the pleasure of seeing you and your sisters at Denton.
This recollection mingles with sadness as I think of the occa
sion on which I now write. With my best wishes for all of
you under this sad event, believe me yours very sincerely,
J. B. Mozley.
This letter drew from his friend's sister a full and very
interesting reply. J. B. M. to Miss Bridges. August 20.
My dear Miss Bridges, — Accept my sincere thanks for your
letter with the account of your brother, so deeply interesting
notwithstanding its sadness. The sudden call, amid the '
activities of life, to face another world is a thought which, as it
rises up before us in our ordinary state of mind, dismays us,
But he was equal to the occasion. What a calm but strong
spirit be showed ! It is an encouragement to those who survive.
There must have been a steady habitual principle of faith in
his mind to have responded so remarkably to such a call. For
my own part, starting as we did life together, I feel a peculiarly
deep lesson in his closing scene. Yet it ought not to be only
a lesson, only a memento of life's transiency, only a warning to

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 307
make one wise and sad. It ought to inspirit in a Christian
sense, and make one think of another world with more cheer
fulness and hope. May the recollection of those last days be
ever a source of peace and consolation to you, who saw his
faith while you comforted bis suffering. I wish the same to
your sisters. I thank both you and them for your kind
remembrance of me. — I am yours sincerely and much obhged,
J. B. Mozley.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Worcester, November 1869.
My dear Church, — Thank you for the sermon.1 I have
returned the compliment in kind;2 for, by a curious coinci
dence, we are both of us on Parker's table at the same time.
Yours strikes me as quite in tune with Westminster Abbey, and
harmonising with the genius loci; an historical portrait of
the episcopate in the great historical church. ... I should like
to have heard it in the place itself ; it would have held its own.
It must have gratified Moberly, and just helped him at the
time when a man wants helping with elevating thoughts. . . .
We had a pleasant week at Oxford. The Bishop of 0. [S. 0.]
preached at St. Mary's, but made no allusion to his diocesan
promotion.3 He strikes people in society as in a state of plea
sure tinged with melancholy, in which, however, the former
preponderates. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister.
Worcester, November 24, 1869.
... I have not told you of WiUiam Donkin's death.4 He
died while we were in Oxford, and only three days after we
called, and I had sat talking with him some time. He was
sitting in an arm-chair, looking attenuated indeed, but still not
perceptibly different from himself in talking. He was always
so very subdued that there was less space for change. We
1 Preached in Westminster Abbey at the consecration of Dr. Moberly to
the See of Salisbury.
2 Tbe Roman Council ; preached at St. Mary's, November 7, 1869.
3 To the See of "Winchester.
4 Savilian Professor of Astronomy and late Fellow of University.

308 Letters of the
talked about Church appointments and the practical spirit of
the age, which turned every place into practical work and
would not recognise study. But be was for a student claiming
his right, and declining other engagements ; in which case he
thought his right would come to be acknowledged. We talked
also about William Froude, who tenanted their house two
or three times when they were in Madeira. There was so very
little difference in him that when, three days after, we were
told of his death, it seemed to throw an unreality upon the
thing, and the change appeared like going from one room to
another. Amelia talked with Mrs. Donkin, to whom obvi
ously nothing immediate was at all present. She was con
sidering the prospects of the winter, and the workmen were
laying down water-pipes in the hall as we entered. The event
came in so oddly and incongruously in our Oxford week, and
yet I suppose the way in which one receives such pieces of
news is oftener this than not.
His is a remarkable life in a sense — such a long uninter
rupted neighbourhood to death, spent passively and contem
platively, with nothing to distract bim. The Observer [Mr.
Manuel Johnson] used always to allude to him as a remarkable
instance of a sceptical, scientific mind by nature, kept in order
and subdued. It is curious bow his physical inability never
took from his reputation. It tells well for Oxford. It was
never doubted what he would have done if he had had strength,
and this was put to his credit almost as much as if he had done
it. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
In the year 1869 J. B. M. was chosen Select Preacher, and
began the series of University Sermons since published.1
1 There is something so characteristic both of him and the writer of the
following letter (Mrs. James Mozley), that I yield to the temptation of
extracting from it the adventures of one sermon : —
" College Green, Worcester, December 4, 1869.
" My dear Fanny, — It is time you should hear something about last
Sunday's sermon, the success it had, the dangers it ran, the tribulation I
went through, and James's astonishing calmness and resignation in very try
ing circumstances ; but as I shall only require a very moderate sympathy
with the troubles that are past, I will begin at the end, and tell you how
much the sermon was admired. Miss Smith told me as I came out that one

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 309
To the Eev. E. W. Church. February 24, 1870.
You ought to have been in Oxford to meet the Greek Arch
bishop and his archimandrites, who were with him three days
of the congregation said to her, ' ' What a shame there should be such a small
number to hear such a splendid analysis of character ! " . . . The Vice-C.
said he hoped it would be published at once, while the impression remained,
but it is not going to be. The Pharisees will keep unchanged another year
or two, after all the centuries that have passed since they were denounced.
, . . Now, I have told you all I can about it, because, of course, you like to
hear. I don't go writing like this to other people.
"You must know I took my black hand-bag in the carriage with me, and
put in it, for safety, James's sermon, money, etc. We arrived at Oxford in
the dark. I had to wait on the platform a quarter of an hour or more
before we could get our luggage or a porter, carefully guarding my bag with
my foot, hands being full. Then, on alighting at New Inn Hall, it was car
ried to my room with the other luggage, and I sat down talking by the fire,
till time to dress for Mr. Smith's dinner-party. Imagine my dismay when
I opened it to find it was some gentleman's bag I had taken instead of my
own ; and mine, sermon and all, was gone on we did not know where, or with
whom, How the change was made I can't tell ; I took it from close by my
side. Well, it was dinner-time. I felt turned topsy-turvy, obliged to go
out at once, as this party was given for us. So James had to go off to the
station, to telegraph to three addresses we found in the bag, and that was
all we could do. I happened to know who the man was, when we found his
card, so felt sure all would be safe ; but no hope of getting the ms. in time
for next day. Most luckily — all was most lucky — I had put the rough copy
tidily altogether on the sideboard here, so I telegraphed to Hose to send it
by post, and, having done all that could be done, went off to Balliol, deter
mined not to say a word, for I knew how much the Smiths would sympa
thise. James came in late ; but Miss S. feeling sure, as she said, that I was
not a woman to send my husband posting off after luggage, except it was
very important, questioned me, so I was obliged to confess, but not till
dinner was over, what it was. Great sympathy ; very little hope. We went
home. I had, as you may suppose, not much sleep ; but relying much on
the invaluable Rose, I got up an hour before morning, and was up and
dressed by seven, waiting for the post. Sermon arrived ; sat down at once,
wrote, without moving, till twelve, Alice Cornish doing a little, and had just
reckoned I should have finished by one, when the door opened, in came the
bag— all contents safe. When I got the rough copy in the morning, I
was at peace, knowing I could write it out again. James had written it so
badly, it was impossible to preach from his own writing. Nevertheless, 1
was glad to see it come in. Mr. Waller, the owner of the one I had taken,
behaved in the most extraordinarily excellent manner ; finding the contents
valuable, he took such immense pains that we got the bag, as I said, at
twelve on Sunday morning, the very first train it could have come by. The
whole thing seems wonderful. What things telegrams are ! I didn't say-
how well James behaved — not a word of reproach — only threw it entirely on
tho bag itself, which ought not to be black, every one being black. So I
expect it will end pleasantly in my having a nice new Russia leather one,
conspicuously trimmed with gold, to prevent any future mistakes."

3 1 o Letters of the
at our President's, where be was staying. Unfortunately, the
means of communication with him were difficult, as he only
spoke modern Greek and German. There was an interpreter,
a Mr. Timbres, a Greek merchant at Liverpool, of position,
who attended the Archbishop in his tour for love. He found
it dreadfully hard work, as be told me, and was quite knocked
up. All bis power was elicited by a conference between the
Archbishop and Pusey, on Sunday, on the Filioque. You may
imagine the difficulty of transferring the respective communi
cations from the two theologians to each other. The confer
ence did not end favourably. Pusey was Latin, and the
Archbishop Greek ; and they could not bit on any explanatory
appendages to the word. Pusey was quite prostrated by dis
appointment, and wrote most downcast letters to Williams. I
remember Palmer used always to tell me the Greeks were
inert and pliable on the outside, but clung tenaciously to every
bit of their theological position when the trial came. I liked
the Archbishop, and he was universaUy popular — quite a man
of the world, with good presence and address. The Liverpool
archimandrite really made a good English speech, with great
rhetorical effect, at the great dinner on Monday. But as con
versationalist, he was slow, and not up to words. There was
some difficulty in keeping all the party in proper humour, the
Syra archimandrite being disposed to be sulky, thinking he had
not sufficient honour paid him. The Archbishop pronounced
him to G. Williams dvoos, and that he should not tate him out
again. The Bishop of Winchester dined with us in the hall,
to meet the party on Sunday. He bad had a hard working
day, and was dull at first ; but brightened up in the evening,
and was very amusing. Burgon was in good spirits, and had
received a great many flattering letters on his Temple corre
spondence. Temple Chase was up. The Provost was fairly
well, and was at the Monday's dinner ; but WiUiams was down
upon bim for having taken the toast of the President's health
out of his hands, for whom it was designed. However, an
opening was made for W., who likes to have his say. He is a
good man on the whole for such an occasion, but he ordered
the poor archimandrites about in a way they did not Uke. . . •
— Yours affectionately, J. B. M.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 311
Worcester, May 26, 1870.
My dear Church, — ... It is indeed a very slippery basis on
which everything is standing now, and one hardly knows what
to expect next. I extremely dislike the apparent determination
of some members of the Upper House of Convocation to cram
this new translation of the Bible down the throats of people.
It ought, if it is ever sent out, to win its way gradually, and by
the voluntary acceptance of it on the part of the Church at
large. So much at least is due to the venerable prestige of the
authorised version. I do not see weU, moreover, how it can be
otherwise, for Convocation cannot authorise. Yet some talked
as if some definite act of authority was immediately to impose
this new translation on the Church. . . . — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
In 1870 J. B. M. and his wife took a tour in Scotland, carry
ing with them an introduction to Mr. Blackwood, then at bis
country house of Strathtyrum. To his Sister.
Dunkeld, September 30, 1870.
We have just arrived here from St. Andrews, where we spent
two days, dining yesterday at Strathtyrum. It is a large bouse,
with grounds and woods, and the old part was Archbishop
Sharp's country bouse, the very one he was journeying to
when he was murdered. The Blackwoods are most hospitable.
He is an uncommonly shrewd man, with much humour, and
plenty of stories about literary men. . . . There was an
authoress staying there — Mrs. 0  . We both thought
her very taking; with something of an arch expression, a
musical voice, and inclined to be cheerful and merry, but with
a very quiet way about ber. She is almost one of the famUy
there, Blackwood having known her from a girl, and first
brought ber out in print as a critic of Thackeray, Dickens, etc.
The said Thackeray complained of some of her criticisms to
him (Blackwood), with whom be was on intimate terms. So,
after much arguing on T.'s part to prove that " Blackwood "
had made a great mistake, B. said simply, " WeU, Thack, I won't

3 1 2 Letters of the
repeat it," which produced a tremendous laugh from Thackeray,
and the retort, " You rascal ;" and so it ended ; the admission
gained being that Thackeray was ready to take his chance, and
have a little more such criticism if it was forthcoming. . . .
I should describe the Scotch service both Free and Estab
lished as ultra-cathedral, in the sense of being totaUy uncon-
gregational. The hymns rise up out of an enclosure beneath
the precentor's desk concealing the choir, and the congregation
quietly listen sitting. The effect of this in a large, round,
gaUeried church holding 2000 or 3000 people is rather absurd.
The sermons were good compositions, read without any action.
I must not omit Abbotsford. Its gimcrack character is
exaggerated. It is a nice place, and looks like a home. Hope
Scott has built a new part for himself, not shown ; it is well
added, so as not to interfere with Scott's Abbotsford. . . . —
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
Did I teU you that at G.'s there rose a discussion as to the
number of words a labouring man in the country had for aU
the purposes of speech ? It was estimated differently at 500,
300, and 100. I hazarded the remark that the women had a
larger vocabulary than the men. L. did not accept the fact
absolutely, but I think I am right. Shoreham, September 1870.
My dear Church, — What extraordinary times we Uve in !
We are here enthusiastic Germans. How little one knew a
month ago upon what an edge the empire was tottering! I
suppose the Emperor himself saw it only too keenly. Indeed,
one cannot help thinking, if he had been a more stupid man
and not been so conscious of the slipperiness of his position,
he might have tided it over. There appears from aU accounts
to be a strong peace, commercial side in France, that would
have supported him in doing nothing. But the danger of the
other side, and all his own weak points, seem to have fined his
mind. I came across Eanke's summary of the character of
Clement vn. — a regular Italian type — which seemed to cor
respond rather curiously with the Emperor's. Of course, such
correspondences do not bear pursuing into detaUs, but there are

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 313
some general features. I enclose it.1 What a melancholy
picture he presents now ! I thought the inner paragraph going
into such details about him very out of taste. What a good
letter of Max M. ! We have been here now a month ; Caroline
is with us. . . . There seem signs of an incipient row in
Germany on the Infallibility question.— Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
The Eev. E. W. Church to J. B. M.
Whatley Eectory, September 7, 1870.
. Dear Mozley, — We have certainly lived to see wonderful
things. It seems to be a part of the age of railroads and tele
graphs that things are brought to such quick decision. But
the incredibility beforehand of what has happened now, com
bined with its perfect naturalness and reasonableness, now
that it has happened, is alarming, when one reflects that our
own turn may come.
What is to come of France ? The spirit of falsehood, and
lying and bragging, at any rate, has not yet been put down ;
and with that spirit, and the rage and shame of such a humUia-
tion, I look with utter perplexity as to what will be the effect
of the continued disaster which I suppose is to be looked for.
France, of course, is in a very different material condition from
what it was in 1792, or even 1830 and 1848. But it never was
in such danger and such shame as it is now. It seems to me
that it will be more easy for the Germans to gain victories than
to know what to do with them.
I wish I could be enthusiastic for the Germans. As far as
the war goes, they have only dealt back in wonderful style
what undoubtedly was meant in full measure for them ; and so
far I am entirely satisfied. But in spite of Max Muller,
Bismarck sticks in my throat. I cannot doubt that he not
1 Extract from Eanke's character of Clement vn. .- " His acuteness
sometimes seemed injurious to him. He seemed to be too conscious that he
was the weaker. All possibilities of danger arose before him, and har
assed his judgment, and puzzled his will. Some people are endowed with
a quick and intuitive perception of what is the simple, the practical, the
expedient in public affairs ; he possessed it not. In the most critical
moments he was seen to doubt, to vacillate, and to consider how he could
save money."

314 Letters of the
only prepared, but wished for, this war as the one thing which
would put the keystone on his work, and weld together the
South and North Germans. His end has been a great one.
But his policy in pursuing it seems to me simply of the same
kind as that of the Emperor, when he sought the great end
of a strong Government in France. He was determined to see
Germany great and united in his own day, and cared nothing
for the price or the means. First Denmark, then the Austrian
war, then for four years letting the Emperor go on talking
after the fashion of the Projet de Traite", instead of at once and
in earnest stopping him. I cannot conceive an honest man
letting even an antagonist go on beheving that, with perse
verance, the bait might take, and quietly listening to proposals
which he felt to be disgraceful ; and I don't see how, at the
best, Bismarck can be acquitted of this.
Your extract from Eanke about Clement vn. is a striking
parallel, and I have no doubt suggests the true explanation of
the Emperor's mad move. I was reading about Clement in
Guicciardini lately. When the Constable of Bourbon was
advancing on Eome, Guicciardini was the Pope's officer, and
wanted money to pay troops to oppose Bourbon, and he could
get none ; and he is in such a rage with Clement because the
Pope would not adopt the obvious expedient of selling a dozen
Cardinal's hats. He is indignant that a man of such lax views
generally should let himself be overthrown for a mere ex
ceptional and anomalous bit of scrupulousness. — Ever yours
affectionately, E. W. Church.
J. B. M. to the Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, September 1870.
My dear Church, — I can quite enter into your remark
about Bismarck, and can abundantly comprehend bis being
thought a very suspicious character. And yet I thought there
was something natural in Max Muller's explanation of the
private confabs, and the certainty that an abrupt stopper given
by Bismarck to the French proposal would be a signal for
immediate war. Under such circumstances it is like a pistol
being presented at you, and you parley with the man without

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 315
the same amount of scrupulosity that you might have under
other circumstances, if only you can prevent him from firing.
The complication in France seems growing worse, and I should
think even Bismarck himself must have some difficulty in
making out whether he had rather France had a Government
or not. In the latter case, one does not see what is to stop the
war at all, there being no power to treat with about peace.
And if French anarchy goes on, one sees no terminus but that
of Prussia simply drawing her own frontier, and occupying
Metz, Strasburg, etc., as her own fortresses. But this would
not be satisfactory.
How quietly Eome has gone ! How little one could have pro
phesied such a tranquil end, as if nothing at all had happened.
People do not talk about it. If they do, it is a forced recall of
their attention. Immense armies do occupy the ground so, and
create an imagery that fills the mind. The next thing is
Russia occupying Constantinople. One really hardly sees
what there is to prevent her just now. We are expecting the
Empress to come to Brighton. Shoreham, October 22, 1870.
My dear Church,- — Many thanks for the St. Anselm. I
have been very glad to renew acquaintance with it in its new
form. I think the theological metaphysician and the states
man, in his own sphere of politics, are so striking a combina
tion in St. Anselm. I hardly can point to such another
instance. Augustine had dealings with the civU powers, but
the Donatists' was an inferior local question in its civil aspects,
and he had to deal more with proconsuls and the police than
with chiefs. Looking upon Anselm on his student's side, the
region of subject he takes is natural, he looks so intensely of
the student type, and so naturally absorbed a man in his own
thoughts. He must have bad great power of breaking off one
thing and taking to another as he was caUed upon — a most
difficult thing, and an enviable faculty. On the side of the
affections too he throws off the student type with great
easiness. Scholars and intellectual men have not generally
much expressiveness in that direction, but there is an elegance

316 Letters of the
and flexibUity in him which fit bim for society and for popu
larity. One must certainly rank him as one of the most
remarkable of the Church's characters. There is a great finish
and completeness in your portrait, which very vividly sets off
and combines the different and opposite characteristics of his
mind, and gives the largeness and freedom of the type in which
he is cast. His attitude on the Investiture question is de
scribed with precision, and the aspect of it as " positive law "
separates him very definitely from the ground of a zealot. One
sees how constantly a point leaps to a Divine law level unless
watched ; and even the steady thinkers that watch it cannot
stop the impetus. His attitude on the miraculous claims of
the Church is striking too in its guardedness. It is curious
how many great Church minds have been in the position of
checkers throughout. Gregory on the Eoman claim, Bernard
on the cult of the Virgin, even Hildebrand doctrinally — on
the transubstantive point. Bowden shows that he protected
Berengarius.1 It would be curious to make out a list of the
many that have been on the protesting side on some point of
the day, their influence having been overruled by the strength
of the popular will of lower and coarser thought. One sees
the same thing in parties on a smaller scale. Thomas Scott,
the man whom the Evangelicals are most proud of, was aU his
ministerial Ufe fighting on the side of works, as against what
1 Berengarius opposed the definite doctrine of "change of substance,' i.e.
Transubstantiation, maintained by Paschasius, Eadbert, and Lanfranc For
this he was accused of denying the Real Presence, which he always affirmed.
Hildebrand took his part : 1st, At Tours, 1054 (Bowden, ii. 242) ; 2d, More
doubtfully at Rome, 1059 (76. ii. 243). Hildebrand, now Gregory vn.,
was induced to send for him to Rome, 1078; "but on the council assem
bling he acted the part of a friend to the accused. Berengarius, with his
concurrence, in lieu of repeating the declaration of 1059, made the follow
ing in less stringent terms. . . . This confession was no sooner made than
Gregory declared it was enough for the Faith, . . . that B. was no heretic"
(Bowden, ii. 244, 245). When Berengarius's opponents still pressed for
more stringent measures, Gregory allowed them to exact a further profes
sion of faith from Berengarius ; but he sent him home under protection, and
forbade any further molestation of him (Bowden, ii. 247-8.) "Freed from
his difficulties, Berengarius avowed, on his return, his original opinions, and
ascribed his formal disavowal of them to the fear of instant death. But
Gregory, however urged on the point by Berengarius's enemies, firmly
refused — and to the end of his life persevered in the refusal — to take any
further measures against him" (Bowden, ii. 248).

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 317
was considered the high Justification doctrine, and was in bad
odour with a large section of his party. — Yours,
J. B. M.
To his Sister. Shoreham, Dec. 1870.
We are Germans here. I think the right is on their side,
and the alarmists, English as well as others, who practicaUy
deny then right to unite and form one nation, are totally
in the wrong. The French obstinacy, in preferring dissolution
as a nation to parting with two Departments, seems to me
irrational and wrong. A thorough beating in war is a fact of
Providence, and ought to be accepted, and it is impiety and
rebeUion to prefer national suicide to a moderate penalty.
Yet some encourage them in it as if it were fine. It is con
sidered heroism. It is really cowardice. They have not the
moral courage to avow defeat. One hopes, however, that they
are not thoroughly committed to the principle, and that if Paris
gives way they will surrender. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To his Brother, T. M. January 23, 1871.
Dear Tom, — I have received a note marked " Most private','
Offering me the Eegius Professorship of Divinity, which is
likely to be immediately vacated. . . . The offer is most
sudden and unexpected. I dread the change at present, and
do not feel particularly comfortable. My long absence from
Oxford, my total inexperience in lecturing, and the difficulties
of the times appal me when I think of them, and I could doubt
a choice which takes me from the tranquil harbour of Worcester
into the agitated sea of Oxford. But one follows a kind of
destiny which antecedents form for one. — Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
P.S. — This is, of course, a secret at present.
To the Eev. E. W. Church.
Shoreham, January 29, 1871.
My dear Church, — The ultimatum arrived yesterday, though
not before the announcement in the papers.

3 1 8 Letters of the
I am glad you sympathise about Ewelme. I am clear my
self as to the improvement that a separation would be, and that
a parish of 700 population ought not to be joined to a Profes
sorship, thus saddling a parish of such size with perpetual
non-residence, while the Professorship, too, is saddled with the
perpetual burden of so large a charge. It is a different case, I
think, if you are already in a parish, and do not want to give it
up. There may be reasons for not desiring a break from con
nections already formed, and the size makes a difference, Old
Sboreham being a little more than a third of Ewelme. ... A
separation was attempted the last vacancy. I do not know
what the hitch was. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
The connection which my brother had formed with his
parishioners at Old Shoreham was of a very real character,
While he was thoroughly acquainted with tbem all, their
comparatively small number admitted of his pursuing his
theological studies. His wife's heart was in the parish ; both
were lavish of all the aids that an open hand, and, in her case,
exacter knowledge of the needs of the poor in Ulness could
bestow.
Dr. Pusey to J. B. M.
February 7, 1871.
My dear Mozley, — How strangely different are the times
in which you return among us from those in which you left
us ! Now the fight is not for fundamentals even, but as to the
existence of a personal God, the living of the soul after death,
or whether we have any soul at all ; whether there is or can be
any positive truth except as to physics, etc. I asked a physical
Professor about a E. C. book on geology and the relations of
physical science to faith discussed in it. " No one," he said,
" thinks any longer of this ; the question is wholly removed
to materialism," etc., and instanced some eminent person, or
persons, who was entirely happy, having satisfied himself that
he had no hereafter. Another or other physicists look upon
revelation as an interference with the study of physical cer
tainties.

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 319
But we have a great battle ; I for whatever time remains to
me, you during, I hope, many years of vigour. It is an
encouragement that the battle is so desperate. All or nothing ;
as when the Gospel first broke in upon heathen philosophers ;
and the fishermen bad the victory. Will you think about that
transmitted plan of the Eegius Professor giving men twelve
lectures, which are to crowd all theology into a fortnight.
They are the bane of theological study here. Parents and
young men get through and get off as cheaply as they can. But
now that, if they like, candidates for orders can begin the study
after moderations, there is no excuse. I do not mean that you
should not, tear k$;oyf)v, sign testimonials for bishops, but I think
that the testimonials ought to cost men something more than a
fortnight. The plan began in my day, when Bishop Lloyd had
to prepare lectures in a hurry, and began that system of private
lecturing. But then we had at least alternate days on which
to digest what we heard, as the lectures were spread over a
month. Burton, in good nature, contracted them into a fort
night. You will think about this. God be with you in all
things. — Yours affectionately, E. B. Pusey.
In the summer of 1871 we — my sister Elizabeth and myself
— had the great pleasure of receiving Dr. Newman at Barrow.
He was spending a few days with his sister at Derby, and
the famUy party adjourned to Barrow-on-Trent for two days.
It was a happy and memorable occasion. Full accounts of
it were sent to Worcester, where my brother was still re
siding. He writes a long letter in reply, greatly interested,
dwelling on persons of the day and events — not, however,
suited for present transcription. Dr. Newman had written a
note to him on the occasion to which allusion is made.
Worcester, June 29, 1871.
My dear Anne, — Newman's week at Derby and Barrow
must indeed have been a curious revival of the past. It would
have been difficult to find any party where the enormous
chasm of intervening events could have preserved still so com-

320 Letters of the
pletely the substantial identity of feeling and character. . . ,
J. H. N.'s note to me was very pleasant, and just what one
liked. I could not but observe the hand so strong and very
hke its old self. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
P.S. — We spent an evening with B. lately. He knows
everybody, among others J. H. N., and has called on him some
times at Birmingham. He knew him a Uttle in Oxford in old
times, and has tried to get him over to  , but not succeeded.
J. H. N. does not much care about meeting celebrities at
breakfast. J. B. M.'s next letter to his friend and correspondent is
addressed to him under a new designation : —
To the Dean of St. Paul's.
Ch. Ch., November 12, 1871.
My dear Dean, — Thank you for your congratulations on the
Doctrinate. I cannot say that I particularly affect the title,
but as I am presumptuous enough now to pretend, in fact, to
instruct others, I cannot reasonably complain of the title of
instructor. . . . Yours, J. B. M.
Ch. Ch., November 1871.
My dear Dean, — We should hke very much to see your
new home, but we shall hardly be able to bring it in our
journey back to Shoreham this time. . . . Oxford is certainly
something of a whirl with its Convocations, Congregations, and
meetings of all kinds, to which we have added this term special
meetings of the Divinity Professors on the subject of the
Athanasian Creed, to which the Bishop has caUed our atten
tion. . . .
Have you read Goldwin Smith ? The epigrammatic power
wonderful. He is, in his way, and with aU his bitterness, still
something of a prophet. He denounces, and with a moral
weight and force not wholly wanting. He has a true perception
of pubhc sin. And the English, both Church and nation, has
in him a judge who tells the truth, though savagely. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 321
In January 1872 he received the news of Mr. Scott's death,
his co-editor, in days past, of the Christian Rememh-ancer. Mr.
Scott had been seriously iU for some time, and accounts had
reached him of his state. When last in London J. B. M. had
called, but found bim unable to see callers. Since his connection
with the Christian Remembrancer was loosened, communication
had naturaUy become very rare. Jamiary, 1872.
Dear Elizabeth, — I wrote to Mrs. Scott yesterday. I have
often thought that there is a curious caprice in the arrange
ments of Ufe, which makes one see absolutely nothing of some
with whom one has been intimate, and whose society would
make a difference in life, and a great deal of others who are
nothing at all to one. For twenty years I have seen hardly
anything of Scott, and yet there was no reason why I should
not faU in with him any day, and have an intimate conversa
tion with him. He was thoroughly good-hearted, and a cynic
with it. This is not the incongruous combination which it
might seem ; if well tempered, it is a good one. The Guardian
memorial is not weU done — too taken up with externals, boards,
committees, meetings, and other fussinesses. There certainly
was something very sterling about him, a true ring ; and that
in spite of various seeming levities in him. I don't think I
ever knew any one that I could feel more sure about behaving
quite weU to one in any compUcation and trying test, where he
could not be found out if he behaved ill. ... I have always
felt that Scott possessed a character and had several features
in peculiar combination. C. remarked the other day what was
quite true, that he had an affectionate manner to his friends,
though there was a considerable cynical element in bim. He
had a gentleness in aU private communications with you,
whether in writing or viva voce. It was a contrast to some
who abound in honeyed modifications of expression in print,
and are always on the edge of insolence in private life. Church
and myself were comparing notes. He said he had seen no
thing of him for years. One thing was, he was not a man
x

322 Letters of the
that went down into the country — [he had a house at Maiden-
bead, and was devoted to fishing] — and many of his friends
depended enthely on visits to London for a chance of seeing
bim ; and seeing a man in London is a chance, unless you make
a regular appointment, which is somewhat formal, and requires
antecedent arrangements. On the whole, seeing people is one
of those things which look excessively easy in all prospective
and aU retrospective views of Ufe, but which are difficult in
the present.1
Heavy personal anxieties were soon to press upon my brother ;
in fact, could not be wboUy absent from bim at this time. There
is something, perhaps, in the praise of routine that occurs in a
letter to his brother, T. M., which forebodes change.
" There seems, indeed, to be a providential design in making
routine — which must be the hfe of the mass — such a satisfac
tion and repose to the mind. Country clergymen, for example,
are a happy instance of its soothing power. I confess an
enormous attraction towards a routine hfe. There is nothing
happier than hfe passing quietly, and one day exactly like
another — at least that is my experience."
In March 1872 James speaks of past engagements at the be
ginning of term, where " we [himself and his wife] met friends,"
etc. ; but bis letters soon became reports of his wife's health —
making the best of it, never speaking of danger, to the family
circle — leaving it, however, to be inferred. To his friend Dean
Church, writing May 30, there are some touching words giving
expression to the fear of what was coming, and ending, " pray
for ber and for me."
In June a house was taken in the Parks, for fresher air and
quiet, to which the invahd was removed under the superin-
1 A postscript to this letter touches on another life ended — a life in strong
contrast with that on which his tnoughts had been dwelling. Our young
friend, Alice Wilkinson, younger daughter of the Rev. W. F. Wilkinson,
late vicar of St. Werburgh's, Derby, and at that time rector of Lutterworth,
died at this date. This event led to a correspondence shortly after.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 323
tendence of ber brother, Dr. Ogle. From thence the foUowing
letter was written when the end came : —
Dereham House, July 29, 1872,
My dear Church, — My dear Amelia died this morning. It
was sudden. She had partiaUy recovered, as I told you, from
the prostration of her long neuralgic illness ; but fainting fits
had just begun to come on, the result of a disordered circula
tion. In the second of these she died at about two o'clock this
morning. You wiU know my state without my speaking of it.
She was aU in aU to me. Always close to me — so affectionate,
so generous, so true-hearted. I tremble when I think of what
I have to go through in parting from her. May God assist me.
The vista of the past rises before me, so cheered and animated
by her presence. I feel that, as far as what this world can give
is concerned, my life is over. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
I have some scruple in giving the foUowing letter. The
reader may feel that the privacy of deep feehng has been in
vaded ; but it conveys a lesson ; and as he bad, to use his own
words, in accepting his office undertaken to instruct others, I
venture to transcribe it : —
Dereham House, Oxford, August 7.
My dear Anne, — One looks back now on a death and on a
funeral. Such is the order of things in this world that what is
so long an uncertain future, doubtful and agitating, is changed
in so short a time into a retrospect. As I look back, however,
I see more and more what I have lost ; and what haunts me
night and day is the reflection that I was not sufficiently grate
ful to God for the gift wbUe I had it. It would appear almost
an impossibility sometimes to reahse a source of happiness wbUe
you had it, and that the loss of it was necessary to make you
feel it adequately, and as it deserved to be felt. There is such
a way of taking for granted what we have, and only appreciating
at its fuU worth what we have not. It is almost the great fault
of human hfe. It would seem that aU would be well if one

324 Letters of the
could only realise the happiness one bad. Some do this in a
great degree — Mr. Eickards did. But it is very rare ; yet not
to do it is a certain source of deep regret.
When I think of Ameha, her great affectionateness and
generosity of character is the charm of it ; but there was so
much substance in her mind ; power of reading, entering into
what she read, ruling her household, and aU business-like gifts,
which do not often go with inteUectual quickness. And with
aU her openness and freedom from reserve, some parts of her
character only came out in fragments.
It was a remarkable feature of the illness — the great cheer
fulness of the sick-room. It was the only place which was
cheerful ; aU was gloom out of it. She gave directions about
herself with great clearness and rapidity, but Eose foUowed her
perfectly, and this of itself gave life to the scene. Then she
was cheerful in talk, and liked talking, though she preferred
having one at a time to talk to. She was anxious that ber Ul-
ness should do good to others. She thought much of death,
though it was uncertain to ber bow long her illness might be,
and whether she might not recover from some symptoms. She
had very intense feelings on catching glimpses of the green and
sunshine, and said to Caroline, " You do not know what it is to
look on nature with death in prospect. I cannot teU you It
is indescribable." With respect to myself, some friends who write to me say
that work wiU ultimately be my chief consolation; but I feel
that some considerable time must pass before I can work
naturally. A state of conscious deprivation of so deep a kind
is a great depression of all strength and activity of mind, though
it is attended by thoughts, I hope, more useful to me than any
activity. — Yours affectionately,1 J. B. M.
Many thanks to Elizabeth for ber very interesting letter.
1 Perhaps some lines from the answer to my brother's letter — an answer
written under the pressure of strong feeling, but of which no word need
be retracted — may serve the purpose better than any comment written after
the lapse of years : — " Bakrow, August 9, 1872.
" My deab James, — I do not know that I should have written to-day but
for a little message from Jemima. I had just received your interesting and

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 325
A recent page records the death of a young friend. Her
mother, in writing to J. B. M on bis own loss, showed such
an inteUigence of sympathy as touched a chord, and led him
to enter, in successive letters, upon the uses and purposes of
bereavement in its more poignant aspects : —
To Mrs. Wilkinson. Oxford, August 31, 1872.
My dear Friend, — Thank you for your kind and true sym
pathy with me in my great sorrow. Your own great loss
enables you to feel that of another. She was, indeed, a constant
source of cheerfulness and happiness to me. She never lost
her youthful spirit, and the warmth and affectionateness of a
youthful character, whose self-sacrifice is not a laboured effort,
but always a ready and cheerful gift to others. The loss of
much valued letter, of which my mind was very full, and I gave it to her to
read, She returned it to me, and, with a broken voice, asked me to give
her love, and to tell you you were constantly in her thoughts. She cannot
hat feel that your loss may some day be hers. So I judged by the depth of
her sympathy. [This foreboding had its swift fulfilment ; my brother John
died on the 23d of October, 1872]. I think all you say of the difficulty of
raining enongh blessings while we have them is an inevitable sentiment on
the loss of them. . . . One satisfaction must be yours, that those intellec
tual qualities you dwell on as so striking in Amelia, and which made her so
charming to others, were much quickened by marriage. There is no doubt
that her mind advanced and gained power in her resolution to care for and
enter into all that interested you, to be your companion in everything.
Many most happy marriages still fail a little in this ; the wife is not her
husband's intellectual companion. You have the happy power to be
interested in the views of native good sense wherever you see it. All
women feel stimulated to think their best with you ; and it was, I am sure,
one of Amelia's highest sources of happiness that there were no subjects that
yon treated as out of her range. One feels, indeed, that a very perfect mar
riage of minds has been dissolved. Regrets there must be, though / see no
cause for them, but the lasting impression must be that you made her happi
ness ; that, I think, she would say of hersetf, that she had been fortunate
heyond the common lot of women in her choice.
" Elizabeth is saying that you cannot have many letters of hers, she was so
whlom away from you. H so, you have a loss ; there was always so much
in her letters, such a large range of interests, and remembering all the
things that would interest her correspondent— and all so brightly told.
Howfew have her eparkle of wit, and what a gift it is to be remembered by.
reople who knew her ever so little have such a keen remembrance of her.
*"»• S., with whom you Bpent an evening here, has been so deeply touched
ty her death — speaks in such fond admiring terms of her look and air."

326 Letters of the
such a one is one of those deep deprivations which one feels
throughout whatever one is saying or doing.
I always thought your dear child Alice expressed in her
countenance and air a very interesting character. When she
was sUgnt they spoke for her. There was an inward poetry
and retiring thought in her look which raised a curiosity in any
one who saw her to know what she felt, and what was in her
mind. I remember in ber, as a child, something of an habitual
mysterious look, as one might call it, of which her later face
still preserved the record; but there was no gloom in it — it was
only a token of the pecuhar presence of the reUgious sense.
When such an one is physicaUy weak it only deepens affection
for her, and the care of her possesses the whole heart. The loss
is all the greater and more penetrating. May you be comforted
under it. My best wishes to Mary and Mr. WUkinson. —
Yours, most sincerely, J. B. Mozley.
This letter drew from the bereaved mother an account of her
daughter's last hours — a scene most impressive, as I bad heard
it immediately after the event from her own and her daughter
Mary's lips. To the Same.
Shoreham, October 14, 1872.
My dear Friend, — Your letter is indeed a beautiful picture
of a serene deathbed, and the consummation of a life. For it
was, doubtless, the simple reflection of a hfe. Everything was
done. There was nothing to do but to die. There is nothing
that reveals a life so clearly as such a death. The shortness of
the last scene does not in the least lessen the effect of it, because
it is just like a word or even a look in particular and critical
circumstances of Ufe, which may tell everything in a moment.
There is such a sure foundation shown in her.
I cannot but think that the peaceful image of her last years
wiU come back upon you after a time with more of a happy
than a painful feeling. There is so much to rest upon, it wiU
bear so much dwelling on. And losses, too, change us, and

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. $27
change considerably our own standard of happiness, purifying
it; so that we are able to be more cheerfuUy affected by these
pure retrospects and reflections than we were before. We are
more sensitive to chastened sources of happiness.
I am struck with your account of her good judgment, and
the naturalness and facility with which she used it. I suppose
it is the disorder of our minds which makes acts of judgment
so difficult to us, as a good deal has to be set to rights before
the judgment can act. In some — very few, I think — the judg
ment seems to be always ready. There must have been an
order and a repose in her mind. Mere physical weakness does
not create this. But peace of mind and the quiet religious
temper, of course, greatly favour the judgment.
In the case of a loss that penetrates very deeply into us,
what we cannot master is the kind of contradiction that death
is. I might almost say the fact of death. The person is only a
moment gone from us, and yet she is no more in this world. It
is a kind of discord in the mind. Certainly the reign of Death
in the world must be said to begin first in survivors, and in
their whole state of mind, which is their separation from the
living — living up to this moment ; their death to them.
May you have your great trial graduaUy softened to you, and
retain, without the present bitterness of the loss, all the deep
satisfactions which such a child's life and death leave behind.
With aU kindest recoUection to your husband and Mary,
your very sincere friend, J. B. Mozley.
J. B. M. to Mrs. Wilkinson.
Ch. Ch., December 20, 1872.
My dear Friend, — I cannot but think that that peculiar and
extraordinary contact with death, which is produced by the
departure of some one very dear, is part of a providence which
relates to the person's life — the one who suffers the loss. I
mean that it is the will of God that he or she should come into
a remarkable experience of pain for the departure of a human
soul from this world, should be made to feel the fuU force of
regret, and thus experience the power of death, and, as it were,
pass under His hands and His stroke even in this life. If we

328 Letters of the
consider how many near relations and friends, for whom we
feel affection, pass away from this world, and we mourn them,
but do not feel that settled hold of a deep regret which affects
our whole minds — if we consider, I say, how much death takes
place near us without bringing us into any deep inward
contact with it, and making us feel the whole fact of the
dispensation of death under which we live, we see a peculiar
reason why, upon some special occasion, this extraordinary
experience should be imparted to us.
Persons cannot perhaps fully account in all cases for the
effect of a death upon them ; in some they can ; but in others
they might ask themselves why there has been so remarkable
an effect in this case, and they might not be able to satisfy
themselves wholly. But even when we can, there yet seems
to be a supplementary reason for the deep penetrating kind of
regrets when they do come, in the thought that it is the wiU of
God that we should at one time or another come into contact
with the fuU reality of that dispensation of death under which
He has been pleased to place us.
In no part of God's providence does the wisdom of its
balance appear more strikingly, I think, than in connection
with the fact of Death. When I say so many deaths take
place, even in our own near circle, without strongly — I mean
in comparison — disturbing us, I do not say it in the sense of
blame. The business of hfe requires that, accompanied with aU
seriousness, there must be an easy natural recovery from these
losses generally, even in our own circle of relationship. It is
a part of providence that it should be so. But that seems to be
so much the more reason for special visitations of sorrow, when
they come. And these deep experiences of loss and of a depar
ture, when they are imparted, may rectify a defect which may
attach to our ordinary comparative immunity from the bitter
kind of grief. Though even to these visitations there is a law
of relief, and providence softens them when they have answered
their purpose.
I suggest this consideration to you, as so great a sufferer
from the regret for one departed, because it has a relieving ten
dency to feel that there is a purpose answered by any visita-

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 329
tion we are under, to which we can give some distinctness and
definiteness, and that we connect our grief with something
special in the scope of God's providence for us, and bring it
into clearer harmony with His plan of education for us. . . .
Your most sincere friend, J. B. M.
After bereavement, or indeed any great absorbing trial, the
power of reading — of taking an interest in books — is a step
many have welcomed. The first book that engages their atten
tion, after a long, troubled interval, is invested with an interest
that it could hardly otherwise have won, and takes a stand in
the memory as an event. With the opening of a new year my
brother's correspondence shows that this step had been taken.
He writes of books : — To his Sister. January 9, 1873.
The revival of the Hares, after so long a break, is curious,
and says a good deal for the vigour of the family. I take to
the book. I have only read the first volume. Maria Leycester
is attractive in character and in style. In the early portrait
I thought I detected a certain likeness to Jane; the hair
of a certain date gives, perhaps, or aids a resemblance. It
was village life and aristocratical clerical hfe put before one
rather suddenly, as a re-awakened scene, and without any dis
agreeable features or pretensions to excite one's hostility. It
was curious to think of her as Stanley's aunt.
The Hares were men of conversation, and won their ground
by that power — wonderful hfe, vivacity, and affectionateness.
Julius died just before I came into this diocese, otherwise be
would have been my archdeacon. . . . His vicarage was filled
with persons from London and the literary world : Bunsen
often there — a sort of open house kept ; he talking endlessly, and
bringing out all his reading. I heard Augustus preach in New
College Chapel, on Trinity Sunday, on my first visit to Oxford,
when I went up to stand for Corpus. I remember his peculi
arity of voice, and also the general quality of his sermon ; its
eloquent phUosophical language, which I recollect inspired me

330 Letters of the
with a sort of ambition. The subject was that of the day —
the incomprehensible nature of the Deity.
We have just been passing through a time of the departure
of great names. Lytton Bulwer recaUs one's early days. I
remember so weU Mrs. W. describing bim as she saw him
from a house window, in a street procession at the Lincoln
election. The very beau-ide"al of youthful glory and intellect,
and his costume the quintessence of fashion, his manners
superlative in their unruffled ease and condescendingness. It
was the absolute perfection of a certain kind of article. I was
always, however, stopped in his novels by the want of humour.
It is certainly a great want. And why so perfect a man should
be without it is a mystery, and, what is worse, he tries, and
fails. I have been told there is some in My Novel.
The news about Pusey was at first very alarming, and even
now the idea of a vicinity to danger has not passed away.
His loss would be a great event. He is one of those fulcrums
and stays about which people gather. His departure would
add to the unrestraint and disorder of the present state of
things. — Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
To Mrs. Wilkinson. Shoreham, January 31, 1873.
My dear Friend, — ... I remember when our President,
Dr. Eouth, died, making the observation to myself that one was
more surprised at the death of old persons than at the death
of young ones. I mean that, though the laws of nature prepare
one for it, when it actually takes place it is more of a downfall,
and what one may call a crash, than the younger death is.
There is so much more fabric to fall down. A long life occu
pies so much more space in our minds ; it is a large buUding
which has gathered up into itself a quantity of material. When
it falls there is so much more actual shock to our mental senses,
it is so great a departure. I compare it, of course, to a shorter
life in the same relation to us ; it may be only that of a pubHc
man, or a member of the same society with us. The old man
does, by his very length of life, root himself in us, so that the

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 331
longer he lives, the longer, we think, he must live ; and when
he dies it is a kind of violence to us.
I do not know whether you at all recognise this aspect of the
departure of a long life, or whether you partake of the impres
sion. I recoUect I had it very strongly when the whole College,
with all its train of past generations that survived, foUowed the
old President to the grave. The majestic music and solemn
waflings of the choir seemed to mourn over some great edifice
that had faUen, and left a vast void, which looked quite
strange and unaccountable to one.
But what I want to say now is that intimacy, sympathy,
constant care for another, constant affectionate observation of
another, seem to have the effect of length of time in the deep
root they give to a life within your own mind. The object of
such watchings and tendings, so much thought and concern,
fills so much space in your mind, that if it goes, there is a vast
empty space, which appals by its strangeness.
It may be short in years, but it is a long hfe in the affec
tions, in the quantity of care, acts of love, wishes, hopes it has
caUed forth, the amount of mind in you it has exercised;
what you have done reacts upon you, and forms an impress
which stays, and which wUl stay, though there is no reason
why it should not survive the painful stage, and enter upon a
calm and harmonious one, when the great discord will cease. —
Your very sincere friend, J. B. Mozley.
To his Sister. March 28, 1873.
Your copy of Middlemarch was a great treat — so much char
acter and humour in it. The satirical vein has, I think, grown
upon the author ; and I suppose it is in its nature to do so. She
has a fine, or intended to be fine, character or two, and all the
rest is for the purpose of showing up. She is certainly au fait
at the whole vulgar side of the middle classes — all their customs
of mind and thought, points of view, their sense of grievance,
retaliations, etc. Especially does she take off their flatnesses
and modes of speaking about subjects above them, literature,

332 Letters of the
poetry, etc. ; as, for example, Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, who is a
clever fellow in his own department. She quite soars in flat
ness ; and when one thinks she has got as far as can be reached,
ascends to celestial summits.
I observe she has a favourite in a certain rather old-fashioned
clerical character, as Mr. CadwaUader and Mr. Farebrother.
She must have known them, and come across clergy in her
youth. Mr. Brookes is excellent, and new. But Casaubon
appears the most studied character. It is capital ; all har
monises ; — the sort of refinement he has, and his dulness and
pitiable incarceration in his labyrinth and winding-stairs, unable
to get out of the sepulchre in which be lives. Then the spite-
fulness of the latent sort, occasionally creeping out of its hole ;
and his inability to receive sympathy, and total incongruity to
Dorothea gradually coming out ; and his inward protest at the
want of appreciation of him, and suspicion that the Arch
deacon had not read his pamphlet. Altogether it is quite a
whole, and it is new. As a piece of satire, however, it comes out
rather late, as learning is now almost abandoned ; and if a man
begins to suspect he is getting into the mud, and to stick
anywhere, he rushes out as quick as he can. Dorothea is
striking in this point of view, that she is of the perfect type,
and yet attractive, which perfect characters so very seldom
are — generally being instances of the law that, humanly speak
ing, perfection is dry, and that you want faults to be interesting.
And it is remarkable that she manages to make the character
without the character saying much, as Dorothea is not much
before us as a speaker. I must say, however, that she spoils
Dorothea a good deal, if not degrades ber from her high
place, by ber after-treatment of her, making her fall in love
with what Mrs. CadwaUader very justly calls the Italian boy
with white mice. For, although !sbe makes him shake his
hah and coruscate with electric sparks, Mrs. C.'s view of bim
prevaUs. He is too conceited and impudent a young feUow
to be fastened on to Dorothea. It shows a want in the
writer's mind. I take to Mrs. CadwaUader, and she is done
to -the life, but I daresay one likes ber better in a novel
than one would have done in reality. ... All satirists, of

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 333
course, work in the direction of Christian doctrine by the
support they give to the doctrine of Original Sin — making a
sort of meanness and badness a law of society. I have made
this the subject of one of my lectures, but it is of the very
roughest workmanship. Miss Evans's pictures will only end
in aiding the Evidences of Christian doctrine, much as she may
protest against it. I think her enmity to the middle classes
must be partly from the fixity of their belief ; being the class
of all society least open to the disturbing force of new ideas
whether of belief or morals.
To the Dean of St. Paul's. June 13, 1873.
I can hardly wish you too quickly over the convalescent
state — the becoming well again — as it is, I think, a singularly
enjoyable bit of hfe — far more than being actually well and
vulgarly strong. I remember recovering from a fever a great
many years ago, which took some two or three months ; and
there certainly was a sensation of life, and an extreme suscepti
bility to all natural enjoyments of mind and body, which one
has not in regular health. ... I see you are in the middle of
the Cathedral reform subject. I thought Goulburn's pamphlet
took the proper line, but he appeared to assume the existence of
a strong movement in the direction of a coarser change, with
official work and diocesan department to manage; in other
words, to help the Bishops. The age seems to be quite set in
this line, and not to be able to trust work of a less tangible
kind. They will get a good deal of professional activity, but
the whole will be a fall for the English Church. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
To Mrs. Wilkinson. Ch. Ch., August 30, 1873.
My dear Friend, — ... It is strange to me to think it is
a year since the great change in my life. I used to count the
weeks, and feel that I had done a great deal when I had got
over so many. But Time makes one feel one is in a machine
which does not stop in joy or grief.

334 Letters of the
After dwelling on some points in his friend's letter — changes
and losses of friends, and speaking of similar losses in bis own
recent experiences — Hope Scott and others — he ends tbem
with : —
And Henry WUberforce, whom I knew so well. There was
a thorough natural force and brilliancy in bis wit which I never
heard equalled ; but I suppose he lacked the power of work —
a defect which comes out in subsequent life. Copleston, how
ever, when Provost of Oriel, put him above both his brothers.
I quite enter into your remarks upon memory, and its pecu
liar selection of scenes and occurrences for keeping its bold of,
which one cannot always fully account for. But they are very
valuable when they are connected with old friends and their tone
and character and conversation. They constitute a stock of
internal imagery which, in certain states of mind, is very satis
fying and soothing. But memory is full of peculiar feats. I
was reminded of a strong impress of memory myself the other
day, at the ceremonial at Keble College. I saw Miss Yonge
the authoress once, when she was fifteen. It so happened I
had always remembered her face, but I never saw her again
till a week ago ; so I had the recollected face and the seen face
in clear comparison. And though, of course, time must alter,
as I need not say, the face came very well out of the trial.
Edith is a very lively and agreeable niece, and she has plenty
of good sense too. She leaves Oxford in a few days now, as
soon as her father and mother [Mr. and Mrs. Bonamy Price],
whose house she and her husband now occupy, return from
their Eastern travels. The girls [his nieces by marriage] have
been a great comfort to me all along, and just that sort of
interest which is most suitable. — With all kind remembrances,
yours most sincerely, J. B. Mozley.
To the Dean of St. Paul's.
Ch. Ch., December 1, 1873.
. . . The principal event of the term, the Union dinner, I can
give no account of, as I had not come up then, but I have beard

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 335
from Heurtley the whole account of his treatment by the
Committee, which seems to have been of the very obvious bam-
boozUng kind. Lord Salisbury did the best thing that could
be done on the occasion — insisting on Archbishop Manning
sitting before him; so that a friendly contest of pushing, or
something like it, ensued, which was of course turning the
whole thing into a joke, and covering the degradation of the
Bishops. There has been nothing memorable since, except the
Sunday of Pusey and Stanley. Stanley spoke against party
in religion — a daring thing for him to do ; for I think of all
men in the world he most uniformly moulds all his statements
about men and things to his own public religious ends. So in
this sermon be called F. Eobertson, of Brighton, the greatest
preacher of this century ! — a most glaringly party pedestal to
put Eobertson upon ; done simply to raise bis own party by
something which he had at his command — a stroke of praise. —
Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
At this time his nephew, H. W. Mozley, was bringing out
a translation of Dante's Inferno, in terza-rima, in the Monthly
Packet. To his Sister. January 19, 1874.
From my small knowledge of Dante's translators, I should
say that Harry's translation has its decided points of superi
ority over others. It seems to me the genuine Dantean verve
comes up sometimes more faithfully in it than in any other
translations I have read. The too-constant penultimate rhymes
are perhaps a defect which could not be guarded against, and
which must be taken as included in the difficulty of the original
condition. It is some twenty years since I looked into the
Inferno in the original, but I find the translation often brings
back my first fresh acquaintance with Dante — the keen pic
torial outhne which the descriptions and similes have so well
preserved. The Dantean devils are an extraordinary difference from the

336 Letters of the
MUtonic; but in estimating the magnitude of this difference
we must remember that Dante does not describe Satan, or
make bim speak. I wonder how he would have done it. I
think Satan is at the bottom of the great pit, but entirely
dumb and stationary. But his devUs are the contemptible
ones of the Middle Ages. This translation gives them very
faithfuUy and vividly. There is a dreadful emptiness and
void in them, and a misery to which cruelty appears the only
sedative, and they enjoy a horrible momentary glee whUe they
torture somebody ; but they pay for it by a frightful, torment
ing, restless vacuity immediately afterwards. There is, how
ever, a sort of humour about them, and a gregariousness which
has something social about it, and a kind of obedience to their
own authorities.
I hope Harry wUl publish as a whole ; the work will teU
more than it does coming out in bits, and it will be a challenge
to criticism, which he need not, I think, be afraid of. — Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
To his sister he describes a friend endowed with what he
caUs a mental physique ; that is, gifted with that conversational
power from which, all his life, he derived so much pleasure
as a Ustener : —
" She was a remarkable specimen of a person endowed with
a mental physique which is something between the world of
bodUy perfections and mental ; that is, it has great gifts of
description and imagination, and strength to use them. She
could not but be a conspicuous figure in any circle in which
she took part. But her sphere of talk was human life. There
she was at home, in its domestic points, vicissitudes, and char
acter. One always seemed to be listening to some one who
had the threads of history in her bands. She could manage
plots and unwind them, and there was a moral tone in her
dramas. Such a person accompanies the train of events with
which she is concerned like an interpreter — explaining tbem
to outside spectators, who see them with only dim, confused

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 337
eyes. Indeed, how very meagrely do the mass of people see
what goes on around them — in a scattered way, just the bits
as they happen, but they cannot put tbem together. A person
cannot fulfil such a position as this without an extraordinary
abUity to take interest in people around. It is a kind of life
led in sympathy with all that happens. How very few care
enough about others to spend their breath upon them. . . .
, She was charged with something to which she gave life,
language, and energy ; but what work it would have been to
anybody but her!" To his Sister. July 18, 1874.
I have made a beginning of Patteson. Perhaps more letters
are given than is necessary to find out what be is, and bow much
stuff he has in him. . . . He is certainly a worker, and quick
at his work. As near as I can make out, he acquired in one
year the Maori language and the art of navigation, — the former
enough to preach a sermon, and the latter sufficient to enable
him to officiate as captain of a ship in a storm. I confess this,
to my mind, raises a high notion of bis powers of work. With
respect to the Maori sermon, the auditors might perhaps inter
pose with criticisms, but the feat of navigation is its own
evidence. His sense of humour and the picturesque comes out
certainly most in contact with savage nature, so as to inti
mate some secret impulse which took him out there ; as, for
example, bis description of the cliffs of Valua, and the swarm
ing natives clustering upon them, and the curious idea it was
to him to find himself " walking arm in arm with a Kongone
gentleman stark naked," asking him questions about various
ladies, mutual acquaintances. . . .
I read Unawares as I came up [a book I had given bim to
read on a journey]. There is a great deal of good, lively,
pleasant description in it, especially of French towns, and very
characteristic. Deshoulieres is well done, his awkwardness and
goodness ; and Therese is made interesting by a few touches.
The plot is too much gathered up into a knot at the end, and
would bear more expansion. . . . Miss Peard's little moral
Y

338 Letters of the
remarks are very good and striking sometimes. — Yours affec
tionately, J. B. M.
To the Dean of St. Paul's.
Ch. Ch., November 6, 1874.
My dear Church, — I have to forward to you the particular
request of the University Missionary Association, that you
would undertake the sermon on the Day of Intercession, which
will be this year St. Andrew's Day. . . . This is a new associa
tion, set up last term. It is intended to add to the ordinary
missionary objects some encouragement of literary and intel
lectual work and thought, inquiring into the character of native
races, attention to language, making acquaintance with natives
who show a wish to acquaint themselves with us- — rather vague
and dim at present, but what may work up into something
useful. We have a committee which meets from time to time ;
we collect books, magazines, native papers, etc., and hope to
create an interest in the subject in under-graduates. The
Bishop of Zanzibar, as be is to be, is here now, and is taking
out one good man — James of Oriel, nephew of the late Bishop
WUberforce. So the Provost resigns. It is quite an historical
fact. At present he appears as active as ever, and he has only
a prospective regard to his health. . . . Yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
To the Eev. Francis A. Faber.
Old Shoreham, January 1875.
My dear Faber, — . . . What a kettle of fish this Arch
bishop's BiU is ! In its present shape I do not see any particu
lar harm in it, or any very striking advantage either. Whatever
could have given the Bishops any unfair power seems to have
been taken out of the Bill. Eoundell Palmer has come out in
a manner that suits him — honest and straightforward. I could
not but sympathise with his letter, which seemed to me sub
stantially true. One hardly knows what is to become of it all.
And Gladstone's resolutions are a smasher. I think what pro
vokes Gladstone is the apparently retrogressive character of the
bUl, bringing an Act of Parliament again to help the Church.
The thing looks obsolete to him.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 339
I find the term at Oxford gets fuller of work. There is so
much coUateral work of aU kinds in which you must join.
New societies are set up. We established last term a Univer
sity Association, which I hope will do good. It aims at col
lecting a missionary hbrary, and encouraging the residence of
natives in the University. . . . Church, at St. Paul's, is in a
difficulty with his plan of ornamentation — everything so fuU
of obstructions. Stanley preached twice last term. I thought
his tone rather modified and subdued by Burgon's opposition,
though it was not successful. He is somewhat tamed, and, in
taming him, B. has taken some spirit out of him. Kindest
remembrance to Mrs. Faber. — Yours affectionately, J. B. Mozley.
On some personal ground, an old letter having been sent
to him, which happened to contain a spirited account of a party
of Clarkson's friends discussing the Life of Wilberforce, just
published by his sons, he writes : —
To his Sister. January 19, 1875.
It was quite a treat to read a letter of Mrs. Wayland's. Such
perfection of statement, the thought so. full and so clear. I
always feel proud of her good opinion, and should have
regarded it as a great advantage if she had lived longer
to act ber friendly part. I remember the Clarkson dispute,
and this very letter, and the whole impression it made. I think
it may be called a permanent impression. For, great man as
one of the Wilberf orces was, and all of tbem were superior, there
was a certain tendency to insolence in them. The two elder
were alone concerned in the publication of the Memoirs. How
strange it should be such a faUure !
What a transition in the material of pubUc interest ! Glad
stone's abdication, then his Quarterly article, and the Pope's
scurrility ; J. H. N.,1 etc. etc. Theology certainly is master of
1 His letter to the Duke of Norfolk, in answer to Mr. Gladstone's "Poli
tical Expostulation," entitled, The Vatican Decrees.

34-0 Letters of the
the scene. Most amusing the articles in The Times, especially
the one to-day. It is quite a true view of the Pope's [style and
its origin, and so naturally introduced, and travel made use of.
It must have an effect, the head of the Church being brought
in to receive such a very rough reception. It must tend to
loosen the anchorage of men's ideas.
As for what is to become of Gladstone in politics, it is beyond
conjecture. One cannot believe be can sink. He continues in
Parliament. I can fancy it ending in a higher position than any
he has yet had ; he seems to have such elasticity and spring.
It must be immensely disagreeable to be Premier (on his own
side) under his exclusion. Altogether it is a most singular
posture of affairs. The ordinary Liberal statesmen do seem
conventional figures compared with Gladstone. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.
To his Sister. Ch. Ch., March 6, 1875.
I saw something of a remarkable girl before I left Shoreham
— a daughter of an old friend of Amelia's and mine ; I daresay
you have heard A. talk of her. The daughter was on her death
bed when I came up at Christmas, having been seized with
rheumatic fever, and then with gaUoping consumption. Every
thing about her was full of sadness, except herself. She was so
natural, so bright, so courageous ; it was quite a marvel. I had
seen nothing of her for some years, as she had been out at place,
and not fine places at all; but she bad shot up remarkably.
She talked well, had quite a style, a peculiarly light touch of
everything, and I should almost say elegant ; quite a lady in
manners, though talking always about things within her sphere.
She had ideas — at least I caU it thus — getting up in bed to look
at the setting sun. She saw quite the proper joke in her
brother George nursing his baby. You could not have sup
posed that anything was impending over her. Yet she saw
ber weakness growing, and faced all the symptoms of approach
ing death. She just took up the glass of water on her table,
and, looking significantly, said : " It 's very heavy." It was

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 341
the most vivid way of describing weakness in its effects. She
had a striking thankfulness about every little thing. It seemed
a constant happiness to her. One remembers the expression :
"The incense-breathing morn;" there was quite a fragrance in
her gratitude. It was like music, every expression of her
feeUngs was so clear. I have not given her name — Louisa
Burtenshaw. She was only eighteen.
I have had to entertain a deputation from Liverpool, who
came up to appeal to the youth of the University. They want
men [missionaries] ; money they have, and are ready to supply
salaries liberally. Espin, Chancellor of the Diocese, headed
them, and spoke at a pnbhc meeting. Five young men called
and offered themselves — very weU as a first-fruits. Two lay
men were of the party, pleasant, gentlemanly men, with interests
of the highest sort. . . . Yours affectionately, J. B. M.
It may be remarked, the strong bold the thought of death
and its approaches had always had upon my brother, the feel
ing of equahty the thought dwelt upon inspired, and bow
this feeling gained depth as years went on. The following
notes to the dying girl have been preserved by ber mother.
They show how httle directly didactic his turn of mind was,
how ready he was to feel himself a learner in the presence of
one close on the portals of the unseen.
To Louisa Burtenshaw.
February 6, 1875.
My dear Louisa, — You know we agreed that people might
think of one another a great deal, though they might be a long
way off. So I write these few lines only to say that I have
been thinking much of you. I saw with what sweetness of
mind, with what religious courage, with what faith and trust
in God you took your great trial. It is the same now, and
therefore it is that your peace continues, as you now send me
word. And so it will continue ; God will ever watch over you
to give you happy and good thoughts. " The Shepherd caUeth

342 Letters of the
His own sheep by name, and He goeth before them, and the
sheep foUow Him ; for they know His voice."
Good-bye, and remember me in your prayers, as I always do
you in mine. J. B. M.
Again : —
... I write to you only to let you know bow I have you
in my thoughts. I hke writing to you, for while you are before
me, you impart something of your own spirit. You show how
God has freed you from gloom and fear, and what compensation
He has given for thus early calUng you. ... I follow you
through your days of restlessness. What experience you have
of illness ! It came upon you all at once ; yet your spirit rose.
You knew that in your trial God had given you something to
do, and that you could do it, and take everything as coming
from a God of Love. Close to my heart is the prayer that you
may be carried safe through these last few days of trial into a
world of rest. J. B. M.

In the spring of 1875 I visited my brother at Christ Church
— a happy visit. I used the opportunity to press on bim the
publication of bis University Sermons, going into particulars,
calculations, etc., in order to engage his interest in the idea.
My sister Fanny, who was earnest on the point, writes : " If
you can persuade James to publish his sermons you will have
done a good work in going to Oxford." This is mentioned to
account for his subsequent revival of the point under a change
of circumstances.
At this time my brother's Graduate Class, for whom the
lectures on the Old Testament were composed, was meeting at
his own house — lectures read by members of the class alter
nating with his own. He took very great pleasure in this
class, speaking with strong regard of its members, and forming
high hopes of their future, who in their turn showed their
appreciation. " James testifies," says one letter, " to the fixity

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 343
of purpose in Mr. Wordsworth ; inexorable in keeping up the
meetings through all the distractions of this term." x
From Shoreham be paid a short visit to Mrs. Eickards, now
settled at Bury St. Edmunds. To his Sister. Aitgust 2, 1875.
I had three active talking days with Mrs. Eickards, from
Saturday afternoon till Tuesday noon. She was full of mental
activity, though slightly impaired bodily, having taken to a
chair — calling and receiving caUs. She keeps up ber con
nection with her old neighbourhood. . . . Mrs. Eickards'
estabUshment is a remarkable one, as you know, containing
one partial lunatic, whom she has had to conquer, and has
done it very successfully. She [the lunatic] seems weU now,
only showing some vestiges of her complaint, in a suppressed
dislike of Mrs. Eickards, and also of her sister, the chief ser
vant, but otherwise behaving admirably. ... I am glad to
1 The reader will be interested to know the names of some who attended
the Graduate Class during the years 1874-1875. The following list has been
sent to the Editor : —
R. S. Copleston, Fellow of St. John's College, now Bishop of Colombo.
L. G. Mylne, Tutor of Keble College, now Bishop of Bombay.
. E. S. Talbot, Warden of Keble College.
H. S. Holland, Senior Student of Christ Church, now Canon of St. Paul's.
J. Wordsworth, Tutor of Brasenose College, now Oriel Professor of
Exegesis.
M. Creighton, Fellow of Merton College, now Professor of Ecclesiastical
History at Cambridge.
A. H. D. Acland, Lecturer of Keble College, now Senior Student of
Ch. Ch.
J. B.. Hlingworth, Fellow of Jesus College, now Vicar of Longworth.
F. J. Jayne, Tutor of Keble College, now Principal of St. David's College,
Lampeter.
W. Lock, Fellow of Magdalen College, and Tutor of Keble College.
A. C. Madan, Senior Student of Ch. Ch.
R. C. Moberly, Senior Student of Ch. Ch., now Vicar of Great Bud-
worth.
F. Paget, Senior Student of Ch. Ch., now Rector of Bromsgrove.
W. T. Richmond, Lecturer at Keble College, now Warden of Trinity
College, Glenalmond.
J. W. Stanbridge, Fellow of St. John's College, now Rector of Bainton.
E. D.' Whitmarsh, D.C.L., St. John's College.

344 Letters of the ¦t
have possessed myself of Jemima's work, which is most suitable
for our own Sunday wants, and such a fit remembrance of
Jemima, and of the quantity of dehghtful playing which I
have beard from her. ... I shaU try to see my friend Faber
on Friday, whom I have not seen for some time. . . . Yours
affectionately, J. B. M.

One of the charms of Old Shoreham to my brother was the
owns.
scenery :

Downs. The foUowing letter relates to a characteristic of such

To his Sister Elizabeth. September 13, 1875.
My dear Elizabeth, — I must confess it is a long time to go
back to attempt to renew the subject of a very smaU literary
conflict which I once had with you. So much so, that I may
appear guilty of breaking all the statutes of limitation that
ever were framed. Nevertheless, I wUl state that, I think,
about ten years ago, you disputed an allusion of mine to a
poetical fact that skylarks enjoyed the title of " Drunken,"
bestowed upon them in token of their elevated and merry style
of singing. I do not know whether it was not taking advan
tage of such a beautiful extravaganza to insinuate a motive.
However, I understood you to doubt the fact that the epithet
had been applied. I had an idea that it must be Shelley or
Tennyson ; it was not in either, and curiously, when he was so
obvious a poet to try, I didn't go to Wordsworth. The other
day I turned upon his poem to the Lark 1 by mere accident,
and saw the veritable epithet, with a capital D., vol. ii. p. 29.
The Downs are much favoured with the inspiration of the
lark, which accounts for their place in poetry having met with
such attention on my part.
In November 1875, during my brother's residence at Christ
Church, came the shock of his seizure, which he at once
recognised for what it was. He did not lose consciousness,
and told the attendant who had been waiting on him at break-
1 The poem beginning " Up With me ! up with me into the clouds ! "

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 345
fast, and was now robing him, not to be frightened, and that
he must have a doctor. The details of illness are not in place
here. All that care and tenderness on the part of those around
him, and bis own patience and submission could do to sustain
him under the trial, was done. He was open to every allevia
tion, though deeply aware of the nature of the attack, and what
might be its consequences : still not without cheering hope of
recovery as time went on and he gained strength. He now
decided, unprompted, to bring out bis University Sermons,
and early in December wrote to Messrs. Eivington on the
subject, saying that his sister would carry on the correspon
dence with them, of course under his direction. As the
University Sermons had undergone his own careful scrutiny,
there was no presumption in undertaking such a charge — one
most welcome on its own account.
My two youngest sisters, who were with him by turns at
this early stage, wrote constant reports, from which I gather
notices of the interests that occupied him in the progress of
Ms recovery from the immediate consequences of what was
called a sUght seizure. Books were, of course, the great
resource — sermons and religious books, poetry, and travels which
carried his thoughts to remote periods of the world's history :
— his approval often varied by clear and pungent criticism
of style. Still jealous of looseness and vagueness, " be protests
against the clumsiness of construction in much modern poetry :
— ' a way always to be found ; there was a path, but such
labour to find it!' Enthusiasm for Gray : — 'the ideas firmly
welded together like iron.' "
When he was sufficiently recovered for drives and walks,
my sister Elizabeth wrote : " He goes pretty often by Littlemore,
but it depresses him. He admits be cannot get over the
gloomy feeling it and the times it represents to bim give him.
He sees more hght-bearted natures find pleasure in recollec
tions he cannot find. But there is clearly something in the

346 Letters of the
' rent and chasm ' of that time that is dreary to him stiU."
In reporting a visit from his brother Arthur, which he enjoyed,
she adds, " It was only general talk : James is of so reserved a
nature that only under the greatest pressure can he go beneath
the surface." But at times, and as time went on, this reserve
gave way, as the foUowing touching letter proves : —
Ch. Ch., February 16, 1876.
My dear Church, — I hear rumours of "your coming down.
I shall be very glad if the promise is fulfilled. . . .
As for myself, you may perhaps know that I am repaired
externally ; but I need not teU you, who are so well up to
physical cases, that the outward part of the case here is but a
small part of the whole, and that the effect on the brain does
not wholly cease with the outward result. I am suffering
much from the effect on my mind, and I am told everywhere
that is the hardest thing to remedy. At the same time, bodily
exercise is something, and I am exhorted to continue it, but
the exercise cannot continue to any extent untU the bodily
power is strengthened and developed. My best wishes fo,r
yourself and all yours. I know you have your troubles. May
they all issue in the best. As for me, pray for me in my deep
weakness. — Ever, my dear Church, yours affectionately,
J. B. M.
My love to your dear wife. Eemember me with all the
affection of the past to Lord and Lady Blachford.
There lie before me confidential reports of conversations,
showing that he was able to speak of the subjects occupying
his thoughts ; among which was the unbelief of the day.
" There ought to be a sermon preached on the nature of God."
" With lowered voice and look of horror he spoke of  's
absolute disbelief; of bis assertion that there was no God ;
of the sort of men Mr. C. meets, who are at the bottom unbe
lievers ; of the state of opinion in Oxford — his mind, no doubt,
dwelling on arguments to meet this scepticism, and on the task

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 347
so congenial laid on him by bis office." Again the heads of
another conversation are given:— "The instinctive necessity
in our nature for a Cause — a great moral Cause;" "The great
evidence that this instinct is;" " The overwhelming nature of
the idea of God ;" " The demands for verifying evidence im
possible to supply;" "The faith that does without it the
essential test of Christianity;" "St. Paul, his intellect, and
strong sense." Again, a few days later, " The trial of illness ;"
" The sense of the presence of God the great thing to obtain,
such as holy men have felt;" " The importance of attending to
the first stirrings of conscience;" " Allusion to trials in early
life;" "The attraction of our Lord's teaching — the crowds that
followed Him — the power and originality of that teaching."
The notes go on : — " I had been playing hymns to myself,
the others being at Cathedral. He wanted, me to go on. He
spoke of the Morning Hymn, which had additionally struck
him as taking all duties, whether simple and daily, or difficult
and critical, as being only the obvious duties of the day." " I
like," the writer adds, " to remember and put down what he
says, when it is evidently the result of fresh thought and per
haps fresh circumstances. I went into his room just now. He
was deep in cogitation about the state of behef in Spain, — with
Untrodden Spain in his band ; and he entered upon the subject
for some time, till I was afraid of such thoughts in a morning,
which is never his best time." Again : — " I have had a long
talk with him, a long reUgious talk, partly on the Psalms."
Such touches of conversation cannot be pursued into those
more intimate confidences to which they sometimes led. Only,
perhaps, it is well some indication should be given that his
mind was stiU engaged upon those great subjects which had so
long occupied his pen.
In January 1876, Mr. Wordsworth, at my brother's request,
undertook to be his deputy till he should be able to deliver
his own lectures, which he hoped to be able to do — " and be

348 Letters of the
had asked Dr. Jackson before be expressed this hope " — by the
summer term. Other thoughts had been in my brother's mind,
but having secured the aid of a definite deputy, and one so
eminently fitted for that post, his mind was reconciled, and as
he gained strength, the hope of returning to the duties of bis
office came with a sense of reviving power.
Having decided to try change of air and scene, he went early
in March to St. Leonard's, where he remained for some months.
Before leaving Oxford he wrote to Dr. Pusey taking leave.
Some words of the note remained in my sister's memory :
" Not knowing in what condition he may return, he asked for
his — Dr. Pusey's — prayers, sending his love to ' Liddon, Bright,
and King.' ' Under a deep sense of unworthiness I feel that
none can suffer without benefit under the Divine rod.' " To
this note he received the following reply : —
Dr. Pusey to J. B. M. Ch. Ch.
My dear Mozley, — I have not called at your lodgings,
knowing that you have to keep quiet. I pray God that we may
have you back again in tolerable health. But it must be so
difficult for your very active brain to be stiU ; and your work
is so unlike mine, of which so much is quiet reading, whereas
yours is all thinking, I suppose.
I often think of those young days of yours, when you were in
this house, and your brain seemed to me the most active 1 had
ever seen.
It must be a great self-denial to keep it still. Yet, as you
feel, it is something to have to give up to our Father's wiU, to
use or not use it, as He will.
We miss its use much in the battle with unbelief; but the
quiet yielding of your strong brain to be kept inactive, so long
as it shall seem good to Him, may impress those whom you
wish to impress more than its active use.
I will not fail to remember you, as you, 1 hope, will me.
I will give your message to Liddon, Bright, and King.

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 349
May God preserve your going out and coming in, untU the
coming in where there is no going out, in life everlasting. —
Yours affectionately, E. B. Pusey.
Ash- Wednesday, March 1, 1876.

As has been said, my brother had delayed publishing his
sermons in spite of considerable pressure; but it must be
granted that the time he at length chose was happy for him
self. WbUe he could produce such good work, bis office was
well represented ; and the interest of carrying his two volumes
— the University Sermons and the Old Testament Lectures —
through the press was an incalculable alleviation, and benefit
to bis spirits during the period of suspended labour. There
was always the work and bustle of proofs going on. Each
morning the post brought business for the day — constant
employment for judgment and memory. He might feel him
self never less laid aside. Everything was done under his eye
and direction. Books of reference were hunted through, to
verify some statement or quotation, by able though unaccus
tomed heads and bands, whose pleasure it was to work under
his indispensable orders. His study was a busy scene. And
when the time came for the first of these volumes to see the
fight, the unanimous voice of interest and approval, the
homage to his powers, might have upset a less resolute humility.
What his sister Elizabeth on one occasion wrote of him was
true throughout : " James certainly succeeds in keeping bold
of bis humility in spite of the ovations he receives; and in
speculating on the capacity for praise that some have, he
really seems to remove it from himself and withdraw from all
personal relations to it."
I was with bim at St. Leonard's when the sermons came out,
and well recaU going into his room with a letter Mrs. Johnson
had received from Lord Blachford, written on the first warmth
of a rapid perusal. My brother was sitting alone and unoc-

350 Letters of the
cupied ; except by bis own thoughts, which must often have
been sad ones, however resigned be was to the dispensation
under which he was suffering. His first words, in being told
the subject of the letter, were to the effect that " he would say
they reminded him of Newman ; " and so it proved, for the
letter has this sentence : " It is no bad compliment to say that
I feel Bishop Butler and Newman in them. The dry wit of
Butler, the rich expansion of Newman, and the searching
judgment of both:" the letter going to that discrimination and
selection so interesting to an author. " I think the four that
took bold of me were, 'The Pharisees,' 'The Beversal of
Human Judgment,' ' Duty to Equals,' and ' Strength of Wishes,'
though a second reading might change this order." It was
the greater pleasure, to those near my brother, to report
the general consent of warm approval, whether from private
letters or the press, from the impossibility, as there seemed, of
awaking in him any vanity of authorship. He was always
critical of his own work as though be had an ideal he had
never reached. He had to be persuaded into the due amount
of satisfaction. His real lasting pleasure in his friends' praise
was because it came from them.
On returning to my own home, soon after the publication of
the sermons, be wrote to me of a letter be had received from
Mr. Gladstone, whose warmth of praise had reached him earlier
through friends. To his Sister. May, 1876.
Gladstone's letter is pleasant ; in his usual style. He keeps
it up with epistolary naturalness. Considering he knows so
well that everybody places such a value on bis letters, his
humility is a real merit, and deserves a reward, which it does
not always do.
The reception of -his sermons by the press was another
enlivening feature of the time. He writes to a sister : —

Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D. 351
To F. M. Shoreham, July 28, 1876.
I have to thank my reviewers not only for their compli
mentary papers, but for the solidity of them. This one [from
the John Bull] is well worked up upon a solid bottom. It has
done justice to the pains taken with the argument. I am glad
to see a theological sermon, more especially, well and accurately
treated, and attention called to the argumentative points.
Nor was the interest of bringing out his volume confined to
its first reception. My brother was not unfamiliar with warm
praise from a select circle of readers, but be had not been led
by the wide experience of those best informed to expect a large
demand for a book of sermons. It would perhaps seem to him
more to be expected that a few should appreciate warmly
than that his work should gain general acceptance ; so that
there was a pleasant surprise at the early call for a second
edition. The book had been published in May, and on July 2 7 he
writes to me " amused " by Messrs. Eivington's regret that they
cannot send a copy of the first edition (" not a single copy of the
first edition of your University Sermons remaining ") which he
had written for ; having a strong preference for octavo over the
modern crown octavo form.
The following letter from Dr. Liddon, gratifying from its
tone of warm appreciation, would also be valued for its testi
mony to the good work emanating from the Divinity Chair
which he filled : — Dr. Liddon's Letter. May 12, 1876.
My dear Mozley, — I have been reading your recently
published volume of sermons, and cannot help writing to say
how grateful I am to you for publishing tbem, and how sure I
am that this will be a very general feeling in Oxford. If it
were not unfeeling to do so, I should also like to say that I can
hardly regret the circumstances which have resulted in their

352 Letters of the
publication, so very sure am I that they will do a great deal of
good, and will show that our leading Chair of Divinity is better
fiUed than has been the case at any time since the death of
Bishop Lloyd. I should not venture to say so much to you,
but in illness, as I know from experience, such assurances may
be of use in a way which would not be at all possible in days
of health and strength.
It was a great pleasure to me to get a fairly good account of
you from the Dean of St. Paul's a few days ago, and a very
improved one from the Miss Johnsons to-day. It is delightful
to be able to hope that you will again be among us in October.
Meanwhile, if I might do so, I would beg you not to be
tempted into any sort of premature exertion. As regards the
University, the publication of this volume wUl, of itself, make
anything of the sort unnecessary for a long time to come. . . .
— Ever very truly yours, H. P. Liddon.
Another alleviation of a protracted period of inactivity, — of
the trial to a mind ever engaged in thought at being cut
off from the congenial work of expression, and compelled to
dependence on others for carrying out inquiries once his own
familiar occupation, — was in the invaluable help and services
of Mr. (now Canon) Wordsworth, not only in his office of
deputy but in his essential supervision during the bringing out
of the volume of Old Testament Lectures ; and, more than aU,
in the affectionate warmth of regard with which these services
were rendered. In the letters before me his name constantly
occurs, and always as inspiring confidence that aU would go
well where his help might be relied on.1
1 At the close of 1 876 Mr. and Mrs. John Wordsworth visited Dr.Mozley at
Old Shoreham. In writing to me my brother speaks of Mrs. Wordsworth's
music. ' ' Her Beethoven every night was a great treat. " Throughout his
life he had been very earnest in his love of music, and it was a lasting
pleasure to him. It was indeed so distinct a feature that some mention
ought to be made of it. He was an intellectual listener. His mind never
lost itself in vague dreams, but was consciously at work upon what he was
hearing, and, as in talk, he was content to be a hearer without taking an
active part. It was a thoughtful process. His tastes had to be reasoned
out to himself — why he liked, why he was indifferent, or suffered positive

Rev. y, B. Mozley, D.D. 353
With the new year 1877 came out the Old Testament
lectures, under the title, Ruling Ideas in Early Ages. The
preparing it for the press had occupied some months, and,
as being my brother's most recent work, had a peculiar
interest to him. In fact, he had had the lectures in hand
for publication before his Ulness. On February 16th he
writes to his sister of criticisms on the new volume: —
" The Spectator had an article a fortnight ago, which took an
interest in the argument of the book, though the writer did not
see things as we wanted him to see them. As yon do not
mention the article, I send it you. You call my books tough
morsels. You know I labour under a fate to take to tough
books. I have extracted my share of interest out of tbem."
On November 22, 1877, I received his last letter, which
begins, " I beg to congratulate you on a new edition of Ruling
Ideas." But the hand that held the pen bad lost its cunning.
It is something that its labours during a lifetime brought
him this touch of pleasure at the last ; — that he might know
that his good work would survive him. At the latter end
of December came a final seizure, from which he did not
recover apparent consciousness, but lay in monumental calm
tiU he passed away amid prayers and tears on the evening of
January the 4th, 1878.
A College friend, on occasion of the publication of James
Mozley's Essays in 1878, wrote an article1 on them, which not
annoyance. He had moral repugnances, as for instance Chopin, whom he
always suspected. Of one of his compositions he spoke during his illness
with strong repugnance. " He [Chopin] was a Manichean — certainly a Mani-
chean : he did not believe in God ; he believed in some spirit, not in God."
The trite tuneless, often vulgar, modern ballad was one of his antipathies
of a less grave type. He never learnt the art of not listening ; his atten
tion could not but be kept on the stretch — the music speculated on.
This habit gave seriousness to his appreciation. The moral grandeur of
Beethoven's genius was always present to him, as, with less force, was also
Mendelssohn's ; "They believed in God— their music showed it."
1 Mozley's Essays. By the Right Hon. Lord Blachford. Nineteenth
Century, June 18, 1879. Z

354 Letters of the
only entered into the merits and characteristic qualities of the
essays, but gave a sketch of the author as he had known him
in under-graduate and subsequent days. The character he drew
iUustrates and bears out the letters here laid before the reader
in so remarkable a manner, that I have asked to be allowed
to close my task by inserting those passages that relate to my
brother's personal character apart from his works : —
" Among Dr. Mozley's youthful characteristics were simplicity
of habits, warm but undemonstrative affections, sincerity of
thought, an almost stern purity of mind, carelessness of worldly
advancement or distinction, and a deliberate desire to attach
himself to a worthy object of life. He soon felt that thinking
and writing were his vocation ; and he found a career in the
service of the Anglican Church, and guides in the leaders of
what was caUed the Oxford Movement, with whom circum
stances at once made him intimate. To an unmistakable
independence of thought be joined a cordial and natural
recognition of all those claims for respect, or even provisional
submission of belief, which arise from intellect, age, moral
character, or social relation. And so under these leaders he
fairly enrolled himself as pupil and soldier. He was fond of
his friends and of society, conscious of his own powers, without
valuing himself on them, and ready and liberal in his appre
ciation of others. But partly from the modesty of a man who
bad before him a high standard of excellence, partly because
he could not easily do himself justice in spoken words, partly
because it was a kind of serious amusement to him to observe
and ponder, he did not talk much in company. If he spoke
he seemed to speak because there was something which ought
to be said and nobody else to say it; expressing himself in
short or even abrupt sentences and weU-cbosen words, which
showed even a critical or eager interest in what was going on ;
but, when this was done, falling back into his normal state of

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 355
amused or inquiring attention, like a man who has discharged
a duty and is glad to have done witli it. He was not an
artist or a writer of poems, but he had a keen and somewhat
analytical appreciation of what was beautiful to the eye or ear,
whether severe or florid, and his writings show that his sense
of things was as vigorous in point of humour and poetry as in
point of phUosophy. . . .
" He had not the special excellencies or the defects of a great
preacher, and, with all his power of thought and imagery, could
scarcely, I think, have become one, even bad his delivery been
better than it was. He was wholly genuine — in his friendships,
his arguments, his measurement of things, and in his devotion
to the Church of England — not an imagination of his own mind,
nor exactly the Church as it is, but a distinct historical com
munity, having, like his country, its defects and its merits ; and,
in spite of those defects, capable of greatness and goodness on
the basis supplied by its formularies and great divines.
" With a lively discrimination of characters and situations he
had not the flexibility of address, the resource, the practical
energy, or the taste for active movement which are required for
a leader. His line Avas thought ; and, in choosing theology as
the object of that thought, he approached it on its philosophical
side. The details of doctrine, the scholarship, the archaeology,
or the textual interpretation of Scripture might interest but
did not detain him. Appreciating the value of minutioe, he had
no taste for them. He was always ambitious of ' a view,' as
it was called — an available principle under the light of which
minutice fell into their places as of course, — and spared no
thought or reading in attaining it. Thus he found himself
particularly at home in tracing the bearing of scriptural teach
ing on the laws of human nature, or the constitution of the
world, or in determining the connection between a particular
doctrine and the moral temperament or necessity to which it
appealed, or out of which it sprang. It was a pleasure to him

356 Letters of the
to penetrate, whether states of things, states of mind, forms of
character, or courses of argument ; and in this he was patient
of labour and suspense. But once satisfied, he was ready, as
the phrase is, to go off at score. No one liked better to give
his pen a gallop. No one had greater power of bringing home
to a reader that what is obvious is obvious — a matter not
always so easy as it may be thought — no one had greater
richness of development and illustration. He agreed apparently
with Lord Bacon, that a broad and true view should bear down
objections by its mere completeness and momentum. . . .
" In this respect bis mind was remarkably constituted. To
an idea of limited extent — a platitude if you like — or a just
and appropriate observation which he fathomed at a glance, he
could at once give a profuse and vigorous expression, could
develop, illustrate, and enforce it with the utmost force and
vivacity, almost off-hand. But if he was called upon to search
out what was subtle, doubtful, or involved, or what, clear in
itself, had been obscured by the hardy credulity of doubt, and
therefore had to be hunted back into what was clearer than
clear, be was embarrassed by his fastidious desire to touch the
true bottom, and when there to grasp firmly the cardinal truth
with a fuU apprehension of its surroundings. The sense of
half knowledge only paralysed him. He had no tincture of
that aimable MgeretS qui fait prononcer sur ce qu'on ignore. If
be understood a matter wholly or in part, he could write on
that whole or part with force and richness. But if he had only
a confused and inchoate understanding of it be could not write
at aU. A proud disgust at " cram '' or make-believe made bim
incapable of that adroit use of smattering which plays so much
part in the examinations of second-rate men."
In its notice of the four biographies, Strafford, Laud, Crom
well, and Luther, which compose the first volume of the essays,
and are earliest in date, the article dwells on James Mozley

Rev. y. B. Mozley, D.D. 357
as a " portrait painter," showing how congenial the work of
character-drawing was to him, as is shown in the letters :—

"His turn, indeed, for analysis of character, pursues him
everywhere, and the theological part of the essay on Luther
derives its interest, not from any scriptural or logical argu
ment, but its searching exhibition of the connection between
the great Lutheran doctrine and the personal character of its
inventor. " A word in conclusion on one aspect of his works. . I wish
to notice one pervading strain of thought, which as it appears
in his first works, serves to give depth and force, and life and
richness and purpose to his latest. He touches a great variety
of subjects, but that which is constantly colouring his narratives,
directing his philosophy, and bursting out in a kind of stern
poetry, is the position of moral goodness in the world. He
inherited this from his teachers. In the earlier part of this
century the Calvinistic theology was one of feeling and dogma,
almost suspicious of the sounds of duty and desert; the
High Churchman was careful about duties, but jealous of
enthusiasm; while a literary world and the clergy who
belonged to it, maintaining in a tone of apology the com-
patibUity of reason and religion, were apt to enlarge on the
supreme authority and dignity of the inteUect. The school of
which Newman, Pusey, and Keble were the acknowledged
heads, if it did nothing else, taught unflinchingly and continu-
aUy, a religion of the heart and will, of the thoughts and
emotions, of the passions and conduct to which everything else
was accessory or subordinate. None could accuse them of being
blind to the beauty of poetry, the cogency of reason, the value
of divine truth, the majesty of the divine dispensations ; but
one of their pecuharities was, that before beauty, before know
ledge, before power, before self-satisfaction, they placed the
simple-hearted and determined purification of the will and

358 Letters of the Rev. f. B. Mozley, D.D.
affections. This unflinching reference to true-heartedness as
an avenue to all that Christians hope for, is constantly break
ing forth in these earlier works of Dr. Mozley ; but it is in
some of bis later works that his fervent sense of this supremacy
is most adequately expressed. In force of language, fertility
of illustration, and vividness of conception, they are scarcely
superior to what is now pubUshed. In maturity of style and
balance of thought they are. And in this they are remarkable,
that whUe the author does not shrink from employing the full
force of bis intellect on the various great questions which our
days have brought forth, be most rises above himself when
he most directly asserts the inherent and illimitable authority
of the central truth of morality, tears all disguise from its
counterfeits, and casts the human heart naked at the feet of
its Judge."

INDEX.

Aberdeen, Lord, 208, 216, 244.
Acland, Dr., 88, 177, 225.
Acland, A. H. D., 343.
Albert, Prince, 110.
Alexander, Bishop, 111.
Alford, Dean, 266.
Alison, Sir A., 232.
Allies, Rev. Mr., 202.
Anderson, Sir Charles, 81.
Andrea, Cardinal, 277.
Andrews, Mr., 4, 5, 7, 8, 14, 16, 17,
18, 19.
Antonelli, Cardinal, 290.
Arnold, Dr., 19, 20, 30, 45, 53, 92,
155.
Arnold, Matthew, 248.
Ashwell, Canon, 153.
Ashley, Lord, 127, 163.
Atkinson, Mr., 66. B.
Badeley, Edward, 123, 138, 139, 143,
145, 152, 157, 163, 246.
Bagot, Bishop of Oxford, 116, 126,
130.
Balfour, Dr., 258.
Barker, T. F., 94.
Baynes, Mrs., 264.
Beaufort, Captain, 92.
Bellasis, Edward, 96, 130.
Bennett, Rev. W. J. E., 202.
Bentinck, Lord G., 194.
Bernard, Montague, 184.
Bethell (Lord Westbury), 159, 237.
Bieni, 88.
Bismarck, Prince, 314.
Blackwood, John, 311.
Blagrave, Colonel, 199.
Blandy, Rev. F., 164.
Blencowe, T., 34, 35.
Bliss, Dr., 38, 48, 51, 128.
Blomfield, Bishop of London, 62.

Bloxam, Dr., 94, 101, 108, 117, 122,
136, 149.
Bowden, Captain, 146.
Bowden, John, 47.
Bowyer, Sir George, 92, 281.
Bridges, Rev. B. E., 48, 49, 78, 152,
304.
Bright, Canon, 348.
Brougham, Lord, 25, 30, 283.
Bulteel, Mr., 25, 27.
Bulwer, Lytton, 330.
Bunsen, Chevalier, 87, 88, 92.
Burgon, Dean, 193.
Burton, Dr., 45, 50.
Butler, Bishop, 223. C.
Cardigan, Lord, 252.
Cardwell, Dr., 52, 183, 184.
Carlyle, Thomas, 101.
Cartwright, W. R., M.P., 90.
Caswell, Rev. Henry, 135.
Chalmers, Dr., 85.
Chandler, Rev. D., 165.
Cholmeley, Rev. R., D.D., 108, 225,
233.
Christie, Rev. John, 23, 28, 40, 44,
45, 60, 106.
Church, Dean, 145, 150, 161, 203,
220, 226, 243, 284.
Churton, Rev. B. W., 116.
Clarke, Miss, 47.
Clarke, Dr., 267.
Claughton, T. L. (Bishop), 119, 149.
Clyde, Lord, 252.
Cobden, Richard, 244.
Colenso, Bishop, 253.
Coleridge, Rev. Edward, 123, 156.
Coleridge, H., 185.
Coleridge, Hartley, 62.
Coleridge, Lord, 165, 184.
Coleridge, Sir John (Judge), 47, 145,
163, 301.

360

Index.

Coleridge, S. T., 46, 204, 238.
Collinson, Rev. Mr., 129.
Colquhoun, Mr., 65.
Congreve, Mr., 193.
Copleston, R. S. (Bishop), 343.
Copleston, E., Bishop of Landaff, 19,
21, 53.
Copeland, Rev. W. J., 58, 63, 101,
103, 122, 303, 305.
Cornish, Rev. C. L., 60, 190.
Coutts, Mrs., 194.
Cowley, 199.
Coxe, Mr., 44.
Coxwell, Miss, 77.
Craufurd, Captain, 230.
Creighton, Eev. M., 343.
Cumberland, Duke of, 38, 41, 42.
D.
Daubeny, Dr., 122, 156.
Davenport, Mr., 72.
Davison, Rev. John, 33, 265, 301.
Dean, Rev. James, 20, 34, 35 n.
Denison, Rev. G. A., 27, 37, 216,
219.
Derby, Lord, 215, 219, 221 n.
Devon, Lord, 128.
Dickens, Charles, 198.
Digby, Kenelm, 300.
Disraeli, Bt. Hon. B., 221, 333, 292.
Dodson, Mr., 159.
Donkin, Professor, 95, 153, 196, 307.
Donkin, Miss, 199.
Dornford, Bev. Joseph, 26.
Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans, 280.
Dyson, Rev. Charles, 232.
Dyson, Rev. P., 164, 233.
E.
Eden, Rev. C, 110, 158.
Eldon, Lord, 39, 42.
Elwyn, Mr., 234.
Emerson, R. W., 269 n.
Espin, Chancellor, 341.
Estcourt, Sotheron, 90, 183.
F.
Faber, Rev. Francis, 92, 108, 148,
209, 247, 292, 338.
Faber, Frederick, 209, 261.
Faber, Canon, 124, 125.
Faussett, Dr., 120, 122, 142.
Fitzgerald, Rev. Mr., 299.
Forbes, Lord, 194.

Fowle, Rev. Fuller, 106, 107.
Foy, Rev. Martin Wilson, 129.
Freeman, Miss, 259.
Froude, Anthony, 239.
Froude, Rev. R. Hurrell, 28 n, 32,
34, 45, 61, 67, 70, 75, 102.
Froude, William, 69, 308.
Fuller, Margaret, 269 n.
G.
Garbett, Mr., 123, 126.
Gauntlett, Dr., 192.
Gibbins, Mr., 74.
Gilbert, Bishop, 51, 127.
Gladstone, Right Hon. W. E., 87, 88,
145, 158, 160, 162, 163, 165, 180,
182, 183, 184, 185, 198, 205, 207,
208, 216, 218, 220, 223, 230, 232,
255, 259, 266, 292, 300, 338, 340,
350.
Gleig, Rev. Mr., 88.
Golightly, Rev. C. P., 34, 61, 62,
112, 124, 125, 161, 188.
Gorham, Rev. Mr., 201.
Goulburn, Dean, 333.
Graham, Sir James, 208.
Gresley, Rev. W., 74, 85.
Greswell (Corpus), Rev. E., 51, 185,
187.
Grey, Rev. W., 16 n.
Grey, Lord, 41.
Grey, Sir George, 65, 202.
Guillemarde, Rev. Mr., 165.
Gurney, Judge, 101. H.
Haddan, A., 185.
Haddan, H., 127, 185.
Halford, Sir H., 128.
Hall, Archdeacon, 183.
Hallam, Henry, 182.
Hamilton, Dr. W. K., 46, 250.
Hampden, Bishop, 39, 50, 51, 52, 53,
54, 55, 60, 131, 132, 134, 151,
164, 187, 188, 248.
Hare, Rev. Aug., 329.
Hare, Rev. Julius, 329.
Harris, H., 185.
Harrison, Rev. B., 40.
Hawkins, Dr., Provost of Oriel, 21,
54, 61, 82, 134, 135, 142, 157, 184.
Hayes, Mr., 181.
Heathcote, G. W., 95.
Heathcote, Sir W., 61, 165, 184, 223.

Index.

361

Herbert, Sidney, 208, 244, 251.
Hervey, Lord Arthur, 268.
Heurtley, Canon, 335.
Hill, Rev. Mr., 74.
Hircher, Dr., 253.
Holland, Rev. H. S., 343.
Hook, Dean, 37, 50, 111, 114, 145
152, 165, 172.
Hooker, Richard, 204.
Hope, James Robert, 87, 104, 111
122, 123, 165, 209.
Hopkins, Dr., Bishop of Vermont, 89.
Home, Bishop, 101 n.
Howley, Archbishop, 33, 61, 153.
Hume, David, 201 n, 211.
Hurd, Bishop, 20] re.
Hussey, Rev. Mr., 158.
Hutton, Rev. Mr., 162.

Illingworth, J. R., 343.
Inglis, SirR., 180, 182.
Irons, Rev. Dr., 268.

Jackson, Dr., 225.
James, G. P. R., 146.
Jayne, F. J., 343.
Jelf, Dr. R. W., 6 n, 142 n, 251.
Jenner, Sir Herbert, 188.
Jenkyns, Dr., 142 n.
Jersey, Lady, 291.
Jeune, Bishop, 206.
Jewell, Bishop, 132.
Johnson, Manuel, (Observer,) 69, 76,
90, 91, 94; 184, 235, 239, 241.
Johnson, Dr., 201 n.
Jowett, Rev. B., 223, 238, 245, 246,
248.
Joyce, Rev. J., 19. K.
Kaye, Bishop of Lincoln, 39.
Keble, Rev. John, 27, 31, 33, 34, 35 n,
36, 37, 47, 49, 53, 55, 63, 72, 77,
78, 85, 92, 93, 97, 114, 119, 120re,
123, 125, 154, 155, 156, 161, 170 ;
191, 195, 201, 202, 216, 223, 239,
251, 265, 301.
Keble, Mrs., 77, 92.
Keen, Miss, 68, 70.
Kelly, Sir Fitzroy, 190.
Kempe, Rev. J. E., 262.
Kettle, J. R. L., 66.

2

Kidd, Dr., 39.
King, Rev. Canon, 348.
Kingsley, Rev. Charles, 239, 251, 260.
Kynaston, Rev. Dr., 119.
L.
Lake, Dean, 223.
Laud, Archbishop, 132, 147, 159.
Le Bas, 104.
Lee, Archdeacon, 299.
Lee, Prince (Bishop), 130.
Liddon, Dr., 331.
Lind, Jenny, 195, 196, 197.
Lock, W., 343.
Locke, 223.
Lockhart, John, 64, 218.
M.
Macaulay, Lord, 30, 101, 234.
M'Ghee, Rev. Mr., 130.
Macmullen, Rev. Mr., 134, 142, 151,
314.
Magee, Mr., 36.
Madan, A. C, 343.
Maitland, Mr. 71.
Manning, Cardinal, 71, HO, 116,
148, 149, 165, 209, 335.
Mansel, Dean, 240.
Marriott, Rev. Charles, 34, 90, 122,
154, 189, 202, 229.
Marshall, Mr., 118.
Matheson, Mr., 64, 65.
Mathison, Mr., 177.
Maurice, J. F. D., 63.
Maurice, Rev. F, 111, 222, 238.
Maynard, M., 212.
Melbourne, Lord, 53.
Merivale, H., 63, 71.
Mill, Dr., 27, 177.
Mill, Stuart, 211.
Mitchell, Dr., 42, 66, 183.
Moberly, Bishop, 161, 216, 307.
Moberly, R. C, 343.
Morris, Rev. Mr., 113.
Mozley, Mr., 2, 14, 19, 44.
Mozley, Mrs., 4, 6, 16, 17, 18, 44,
49, 69, 287, 289.
Mozley, Jane, 3, 17, 18, 20 u, 23, 24,
28, 31 n.
Mozley, John, 40, 59, 70, 87, 93, 101,
253.
Mozley, the Rev. Thomas, 6, 19, 20,
21, 22, 23, 24, 28, 29, 31, 34, 37,
40, 42, 54, 58, 60, 85, 90, 97, 106,
108, 138, 143, 205, 230 re, 251.
A

362

Index.

Mozley, Charles, 4, 40, 101, 257.
Mozley, Eev. Arthur, 5, 79, 83, 129,
134, 135, 143, 161, 215, 216, 220,
238, 260, 262 n, 268.
Mozley, Mrs. Thomas, 76, 91, 102,
105, 120 re, 142, 174, 214.
Mozley, Herbert Newman, 209.
Mozley, Mrs. John, 102, 104, 163,
173.
Mozley, J. R., 294.
Mozley, H. W., 335.
Muller, Max, 235.
Murray, Dr., 122, 206.
Murray, John, 229.
Mylne, Bishop, 343. N.
Nardi, Monsignor, 291.
Neate, Charles, 232.
Newman, J. H., Cardinal, 6, 19, 21,24,
27, 28, 31. 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37,
38, 39, 40, 45, 46, 47, 48, 50, 51,
52, 53, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63,
64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 70, 71, 72, 73,
74, 75, 76, 78, 79, 80, 81, 83, 85,
87, 88, 90, 91, 92, 95, 96, 97, 100,
101, 103, 104, 107, 108, 109, 112,
114, 122, 124, 125, 136, 145, 157,
163, 165, 169, 173, 174, 177, 180,
196, 259, 260, 292, 349.
Newman, Mrs., 28, 48, 49, 58, 59.
Newcastle, Duke of, 208, 215.
Nicholson, Rev. Mr., 131.
Northcote, Sir Stafford, 181, 218.
Norton, Hon. Mrs., 216.
O.
Oakeley, Rev. F., 104, 133, 148.
Ogilvie, Dr., 27, 33, 37, 142 re, 162,
184.
Ogle, Dr., 98, 188, 230, 235, 237.
Ogle, Dr. John, 258.
Oldham, Mr., 129.
Overton, Rev. J. G, 15.
Owen, Professor, 176. P.
Paget, F., 343.
Paley, 248, 250.
Palmerston, Lord, 238, 244, 266.
Palmer, Rev. W. (of Worcester), 51,
113, 150.

Palmer, Rev. W. (of Magdalen), 37,
95, 96, 108, 111, 117, 118, 119,
124, 135, 148, 194, 276, 291.
Palmer, Roundell, (Lord Selborne,)
149, 223, 224, 338.
Parr, Dr., 201.
Park, Judge, 47.
Parker, Mr., 19.
Pascal, 211.
Patteson, Judge, 101.
Patteson, Bishop, 337.
Peard, Miss, 337.
Peel, Sir Robert, 46, 90, 127, 135,
139, 141, 152.
Peel, Dean, 301.
Percival, Mr., 216.
Phillips, L., 136.
Phillpotts, Dr. H., Bishop of Exeter,
46, 92, 153, 163, 209, 262.
Pio Nono, 286.
Poerio, Signor, 281.
Powell, Baden, 158, 246, 248, 249.
Powis, Lord, 138, 139, 140, 152, 153.
Price, Professor Bonamy, 22, 158,
258, 334.
Pugin, Welby, 99, 100, 101, 149.
Pusey, Dr., 27, 50, 57, 58, 60, 62,
64, 66, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 74,
76, 78, 80, 81, 88, 94, 95, 97, 108,
111, 115, 119, 125, 129, 130, 141,
142, 143, 144, 145, 156, 158, 163,
169, 172, 181, 196, 202, 229, 286,
290, 310, 330, 348.
Pusey, Mrs., 58, 65, 73, 84.
Pusey, Philip, 93.
Pusey, Philip, M.P., 46, 64.
Pusey, Eev. William, 107, 259.
B.
Rassam, Ormuzd, 194, 200 n.
Rawlinson, Rev. Canon, 223.
Redesdale, Lord, 128, 215.
Renan, 291.
Richards, Dr., 113.
Richmond, W. T., 343 re.
Rickards, Rev. S., 55, 131, 132, 143,
151, 152, 158, 186, 253, 263.
Rickards, Mrs., 181, 264, 265, 343.
Rivington, Mr., 109, 146, 148.
Robertson, Rev. F, 335.
Rose, Rev. Edward, 294.
Rose, Rev. Hugh James, 33, 34, 37,
39, 45, 52.
Round, C. G, M.P., 184.

Index.

363

Round, Rev. Mr., 27.
Russell, Lord John, 188, 205, 206,
207, 230, 244, 265.
Eogers, F. (Lord Blachford), 48, 50,
58, 65, 74, 75, 80, 85, 95, 104, 105,
122, 146, 163, 183, 184, 229, 259,
290, 294, 349.
Eouth, Dr., President of Magdalen,
39, 55, 98, 116, 136, 169, 200 n,
205, 208, 209, 219, 225, 226, 330.
Ryder, T. D., 26,55,78, 144.
S.
Sadler, Miss, 25.
Salisbury, Lord, 335.
Saunders, Rev. Dr., 182.
Scaliger, 10.
Scott, Eev. W., 150, 155, 165, 166,
224, 228, 321.
Seott, Sir Walter, 85, 312.
Scott, Thomas, 213, 284.
Selwyn, Bishop, 122, 292.
Sewell (Fellow of Magdalen), 97, 98,
101.
Sewell, Miss, 91.
Sewell, Rev. Wm., Fellow of Exeter,
40, 71.
Shaftesbury, Lord, 265.
Sharpe, Martin, 179.
Shepherd, Mrs., 194.
Shipley, Eev. Orby, 266.
Shrewsbury, Lord, 100, 131.
Sibthorpe, Rev. Mr., 136, 149.
Sidmouth, Lord, 90.
Small, Mrs., 93.
Smith, Adam, 201 n.
Smith, Goldwin, 239, 240, 248,
320.
Southey, 203.
Spencer, Rev. G. (Father Ignatius),
95.
Spooner, Mr., M.P., 177-
Spranger, Mr.
Spry, Dr. Hume, 55, 182.
St. John, Rev. A., 146.
Stanbridge, J. W., 343 re.
Stanley, Dean, 193, 194, 240, 241 re,
151, 255, 257, 259, 260, 262, 286,
291, 292, 295, 300, 335.
Stanley, Bishop of Norwich, 195.
Stowell, Eev. Hugh, 161.
Symons, Rev. B. P.,D.D.,112, 142 n,
153, 154.

T.

Talbot, Rev. E. S., 343 n.
Talfourd, Serjeant, 153.
Taylor, Jeremy, 73.
Thackeray, W. M., 311.
Thomas, Vaughan, 54, 134, 188.
Thurland, Rev., F., 106.
Todd, Dr., 74, 299.
Townsend, Mr., 291.
Trench, Archbishop, 257.
Trower, Rev. Dr., 55.
Tyler, Rev. J. Endell, 182.
Tyndall, John, 292. W.
Wales, Prince of, 261.
Walker, Professor, 110.
Wall, Eev. H., 154, 183.
Waller, Mr., 309.
Walter, John, M.P., 185.
Ward, George (of BaUiol), 116, 118,
123, 135, 137, 157, 161, 164, 165.
Ward, Mr. (of Trinity), 97, 98, 101.
Wayland, Mrs., 3.
Wayland, Dr., 117.
Wayland, Eev. D., 117, 242.
Wellington, Duchess of, 252.
Wellington, Duke of, 38, 41, 109,
128, 140, 152, 215.
Wesley, Dr., 192.
Westbury, Lord, 159, 237.
WethereU, Sir C, 128.
Whately, Dr., 6 re, 24, 53, 54, 164,
205, 232, 258.
Wheeler, Rev. Mr., 129.
Wheeler, Rev. Mr., 235.
Whitmarsh, E. D., D.C.L., 343 n.
Wilberforce, Rev. H., 24, 26, 42, 53,
55, 63, 74, 78, 146, 165, 172, 334.
Wilberforce, Rev. R. J., 25, 55, 154,
192, 224.
Wilberforce, Bishop S., 22, 53, 55, 63,
73, 74, 80, 81, 88, 95, 116, 131, 160,
162, 188, 191, 219, 220, 221, 232.
Williams, George, 310.
Williams, Rev. Isaac, 63, 97, 102,
119, 120 re, 123, 124, 126, 154,
216.
Williams, Rowland, 295.
Williams, B,, M.P., 65.
Wilson, Professor, of Exeter, 110.
Wilson, Eev. E. F, 27, 65, 76, 174,
240.

364

Index.

Wilson, Rev. H. B., 116.
Wilson, Rev. Mr. (of Magdalen), 119.
Wiseman, Cardinal, 117, 118, 119,
131, 136, 137, 158, 206, 268.
Wodehouse, Rev. the Hon. W., 215.
Wood, Rev. F, 119.
Wood, Rt. Hon. Sir Charles, (Lord
Halifax,) 52, 53, 65, 88.
Woolcombe, E. C, 185.
Wootton, Dr., 84, 148.

Wordsworth, Bishop C, 131, 179, 259.
Wordsworth, Rev. John (Canon),
343 re.
Wordsworth, W., 28, 62, 92, 236.
Wynter, Dr., 142 re, 153, 158.

Yonge, Miss, 91, 334.
Yonge, Mr., 77.
Yonge, Mrs., 78.

THE END.

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of the Temperance Movement.
By the Rev. C. Lambert Coghlan, M.A., Vicar of Marchwood, Hants.
Crown %vo. Sewed, yt.
The Fiftieth Year of the Reformation of
the Nineteenth Century. A Sermon, in three parts, preached in the Church
of All Saints', Margaret Street, on the first three Sundays of November, 1883.
By Berdmore Compton, Vicar.
8vo. Paper Cover, is.

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MESSRS. RIVINGTON'S NEW LIST.

Marriage, as affected by the Proposed
Change in the Marriage Laws. A Letter addressed to English Wives.
By Edith Mary Shaw. 8vo. Paper Cover, is.
A Charge.
Delivered at his third Triennial Visitation to the Clergy of the Diocese of
St. David's, October 17-24, 1883.
By William Basil Jones, D.D., Lord Bishop of St. David's.
8vo. Paper Cover, Is.
The Church in Wales.
A Retrospect and a Defence.
By John Morgan, Rector of Llanilid and Llanharan, Glamorganshire.
8vo. Paper Cover, is.
The Voice of the Church.
A Sermon preached in S. Mark's Church, Portadown, on the Eighth Sunday
after Trinity, 1883. '
By Nicholas James, M.A., LL.B., Rector of Tartaraghan, Diocese of
Armagh. 8vo. Paper Cover. 6d.
The Foreign Church Chronicle and
Review. Published Quarterly. 8vo. is. 6d. each Number.
The Church Builder:
A Quarterly Record of the work of the Incorporated Church Building
Society, and of other works of Church extension.
8vo. 3d. each Number.
The Question of Incest relatively to
Marriage with Sisters in Succession.
By Henry H. Duke, Rector of Brixton Deverill, Wilts.
Second Edition. 8vo. Paper Cover, 6d.
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The A nnotated Book of Common Prayer.
Being an Historical, Ritual, and Theological Commentary on the Devotional
System of the Church of England.
Edited by the Rev. John Henry Blunt, D.D., F.S.A., Author of "The
History of the Reformation," "The Annotated Bible," etc., etc.
Revised and Enlarged Edition, ^to. £i is. ;
or, Half-bound in Morocco, £i us. 6d.
Private Prayers.
By the Rev. E. B. Pusey, D.D. Edited, with a Preface, by
H. P. Liddon, D.D., Canon Residentiary of S. Paul's.
Second Edition. Royal yimo. 2s. 6d.
Conjectural Emendations of Passages in
Ancient Authors, and other Papers.
By Chr. Wordsworth, D.D., Bishop of Lincoln.
8vo. 4s.
Henri Dominique Lacordaire.
A Biographical Sketch.
By H. L. Sidney Lear, Author of "Christian Biographies," etc.
With Frontispiece. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. ys. 6d.
Lectures on the Industrial Revolution in
England. Popular Addresses, Notes, and other Fragments.
By the late Arnold Toynbee, Tutor of Balliol College, Oxford.
Together with a Short Memoir by B. Jowett, Master of Balliol College,
Oxford. 8vo. I or. 6d.
Sophocles.
Translated into English Verse.
By Robert Whitelaw, Assistant Master in Rugby School ; late Fellow
of Trinity College, Cambridge. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d.
The Annual Register.
A Review of Public Events at Home and Abroad, for the Year 1883,
8vo. 18s.

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