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BY THE AUTHOR OF
"CHARLES LOW,

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for the founding of a College in this Colony'

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THE STORY

DR. PUSEY'S LIFE

WalwIXrilftPh.Sc

THE STORY
OF
DR. PUSEY'S LIFE

BY THE AUTHOR OF
'CHARLES LOWDER'

' lo ne parlo
SI come dell' agricola, che Cristo
Elesse all' orto suo per aiutarlo.'
Dante, Paradiso, c. xii.

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
1900
AU rights reserved

' When personal character is the main source of influence on others,
when the unconscious labourer, pressing forward in faithful service, reflects a
glory from his upturned countenance, scatters the fire of his aspiration in
surrounding hearts, and, by subtle impress of spirit upon spirit, refines con
science, warms enthusiasm, and quickens effort — then it is that a life, a
record, a portrait is most needed. The chief work, indeed, is done without
it ; many a heart moulded, many a course changed, many a soul set in motion,
purified, redeemed by contact with the living man ; and the influence spreads
from mind to mind like circles in the water. But like such circles, the
influence grows less discernible and fainter as it spreads, and it is a great
thing to stamp with permanence its original sources, however inadequate and
fragmentary may be the image preserved.'
William Caldwell Roscoe.

WtHitatzi TO
The Rev. THOMAS THELLUSSON CARTER
THE OLDEST SURVIVING FRIEND
AND TO
MARY AMELIA
THE ONLY SURVIVING CHILD
OF
EDWARD BOUVERIE PUSEY

PREFACE
There is an old saying, that the really important
events are those which take place in the intellect ;
and it may seem at first sight that no apology need
be made for offering to English readers anything
which may throw light on the history of the Oxford
Movement, or on the character of him who became
its central figure. That enough and too much has
been told of that movement may be said, but not by
the most thoughtful, in whose judgment moral and
intellectual forces are those which tell most on a
nation's life. In the preface to the ' History of
England in the Eighteenth Century,' our greatest
living historian has told us that the object he set
before himself was ' to disengage from the great
mass of facts those which relate to the permanent
forces of the nation, or which indicate some of the
more enduring features of national life ; ' and in the
* 2

viii PREFACE.
course of his story he gives his estimate of these
facts at one period in remarkable words.
Although (he writes) the career of the elder Pitt, and the
splendid victories by land and sea that were won during his
Ministry, form unquestionably the most dazzling episodes in the
reign of George III., they must yield, I think, to that religious
revolution which shortly before had been begun in England by
the preaching ofthe Wesleys and of Whitefield. 1
In that revolution, whose issues are in the future,
the Oxford Movement has probably been the most
important and powerful agent. Certainly, a group
of men so gifted, and so distinguished by moral
and spiritual eminence, as those who originated and
led that movement, has rarely appeared at one time
in any part of the Church.
Yet a few words of explanation, and almost of
apology, are needed to preface this memoir ; for it
might not unreasonably be thought that its story
had been so fully and nobly told in Dr. Liddon's
' Life of Edward Bouverie Pusey,' that any book
on the same subject must needs be unnecessary,
and deal only with trivial matters.
It has been written after many months of hesita
tion, at the strongly expressed wish of those whose
1 'History of England in the Eighteenth Century,' by the Right Hon.
W. E. H. Lecky, vol. ii. p. 521, edit. 3, 1883.

PREFACE. ix
judgment could not be disregarded, and the earnest
desire of Dr. Pusey's only child, and that of her
sons, that a short story of her father's life should be
made public. Her resolve that this should, if pos
sible, be done was in part owing to the fact that
when she entrusted to Dr. Liddon, her intimate friend
from early girlhood, the great work of writing Dr.
Pusey's biography, and sent to him the immense
mass of papers in her possession, she made one
request — that he would say as little as possible
about purely family matters. She felt that they
would be out of place in the history he was about
to write, knowing that it must not only be that
of her father's life, but of the whole Tractarian
Movement. It may be also that, in the anguish of the days
immediately following her father's death, she shrank
from the veil being lifted from private life in the
home she was leaving for ever, or from her father's
relations to his children.
She has, however, not only left a free hand in
all ways to the present writer, but has expressed her
wish that this memoir should be written on different
lines from those of the biography, and chiefly for
the many prevented, by its cost, from possessing

X PREFACE.
the latter, or without leisure sufficient to master its
contents. To use her own words —
Dr. Liddon had to write in great measure for men of letters,
and with a view to clearing up University proceedings. Of these,
his work is in many places more a dogmatic criticism than a
general reader would be able to enter into. It will remain for
ever what Dr. Liddon meant it to be, a standard book as to
the intricacies of the Oxford Movement.
It was also greatly desired by her, in common
with many of her father's chief friends, that his
character and work should be known to a younger
generation, who reap the fruits of that work, but
for whom the momentous events of the last half-
century of his life fall each year more and more
into the shadows of the past.
That her wish could never have been carried out
had not Dr. Liddon's great work been accomplished,
goes without saying. Yet this memoir is not an
abridgment of the biography. All material for the
latter furnished to Dr. Liddon by Mrs. Brine has
been sent by her to the writer, except Notes for
Hebrew Lectures and the like, which could clearly
be of no use for the present volume. Dr. Liddon,
in his great care of papers entrusted to him, had
caused letters from eminent men (when in any con
siderable number) to be mounted in bound volumes,

PREFACE.

and of these there are forty, including the papers
and letters, printed and written, concerning the
'condemnation' of Dr. Pusey's sermon on the
Holy Eucharist and his suspension for two years
from preaching in the University. Besides these
bound volumes, there are piles of loose letters and
other documents belonging to Mrs. Brine, which have
all been carefully sorted and examined ; and, most
valuable of all, a large quantity of letters from Dr.
Pusey to various persons. Many of these letters had
not been sent to Dr. Liddon ; and others — to his
wife and Son — could rarely be used in the ' Life,'
on account of the wish expressed by his daughter.
Amongst those to whom the present writer's
thanks are especially due, for letters and infor
mation kindly supplied, are Father Neville of the
Oratory, Birmingham, Cardinal Newman's literary
executor; the Rev. Thomas Keble, the Rev. T.
T. Carter, Miss Marion Hughes, Superior of the
Woodstock Road Sisterhood, Oxford, and the
Superior (Hon. Georgina Napier) and Sisters of
Ascot Priory. In writing the following pages, the
object kept in view has been to work from all
these originals, and to use material not given in
the ' Life.' It has not always been possible ; since

xii PREFACE.
amongst the mass of Dr. Pusey's papers sent to
Dr. Liddon and to the writer, there were letters
which could not be entirely omitted either in the
' Life ' or in this memoir.
For the brief account of Dr. Pusey's early years,
it was impossible to follow the above rule. When
Dr. Liddon undertook his work, he went to stay at
Pusey House, where, as Mrs. Brine has informed
the writer, every assistance was given to him in
collecting information as to those first years, and a
large quantity of family papers and letters was
placed at his disposal. Dr. Pusey's youngest
brother, the Rev. William Pusey, was also then
alive, and must, doubtless, have given Dr. Liddon,
in conversation, much material for the record of his
brother's boyhood and early youth.
Now, Pusey House, where family papers and
letters have been put away and locked up, has
been for many years let; so that Mrs. Brine has
been unable to procure any of them for present
use. The first forty-four pages of Dr. Liddon's
' Life,' and the Appendix to his first volume have,
therefore, chiefly furnished material for the first
chapter of this memoir — a debt which the writer
gratefully records. Other obligations have been

PREFACE. Xlll
acknowledged in the course of the book. The
responsibility for its publication and contents is,
however, in no way shared by Dr. Liddon's literary
executors, to whom was entrusted, by his will, the
publication of the ' Life.'
The memoir has been written, not only on
different lines, in accordance with Mrs. Brine's
wish, but on a different scheme of arrangement from
that of the ' Life,' where events are in many cases
narrated rather with regard to the subject than to
time. Thus the history of Dr. Newman's secession
and of events immediately following it, which
occurred during the last three months of 1845, is
given in the second volume, in order, evidently, to
complete the story of his gradual change of thought ;
while the account of the foundation of the first
Anglican Sisterhood, in April, 1845, finds place
in the third volume.
But it was thought well to tell this ' Story of
Dr. Pusey's Life' as that life unfolded itself each
month and year, keeping as closely as possible to
the sequence of dates, and trying to weave into the
record of public matters which occupied him that
which was private and personal, such as his
daughter's reminiscences.

XIV PREFACE.
Dr. Liddon's ' Life ' must ever remain the great
and abiding monument to Dr. Pusey, and the
authority as to facts on all important questions in
which he was concerned. The best that can be
wished for this memoir is that it should be a kind
of handmaid to the great biography, leading many
to study in the pages of the latter Dr. Pusey's
immense work for the Catholic Church, and that
it may not be thought wholly uncalled for or pre
sumptuous if, for the unlearned, a simpler story of
that work has been written — if one unlearned, but
who knew and loved him well, yielding to the
continued and pressing wish of his child, his grand
children, and his oldest surviving friend,
Cast at his feet one flower that fades away.

PAGE

CONTENTS CHAPTER L
1800-1824.
Birth and Ancestry — Boyhood — Eton — Dr. Maltby — Meeting with Miss
Raymond Barker — Oxford — First-Class in the Schools — Tour in
Switzerland — Oriel Fellowship — Dr. Lloyd — Latin Prize Essay . 1
CHAPTER II.
1824-1828.
Correspondence with a Sceptic — First Visit to Germany — Change of
Outlook — Second Visit to Germany — Over-work — Henry Pusey's
Death — Return to England — Engagement to Miss Raymond Barker
— Letters — Election of Provost of Oriel — Essay on German
Theology — Death of Hon. PhUip Pusey — Letters to Miss Barker —
Ordination — Marriage . . .  . . 23
CHAPTER III.
1828-1833.
Appointment to Hebrew Professorship — Ordination to Priesthood —
Arabic Catalogue — Controversy with Mr. Rose — Illness — Letters
to Mrs. Pusey — Grove Church — Death of Infant Child — Pamphlet
on Cathedral Institutions   59
CHAPTER IV.
1833-1835.
The Early Tractarians — Dr. Pusey's first Tract — Illness — Commemora
tion of 1834 — Opposition to Dr. Hampden — Tracts on Baptism —
A Turning-point in the Movement . . ... ... 74

XVI CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
1835, 1836. PAGE
Letters to Mrs. Pusey — Theological Society — Bishop of London's Fund
— Dr. Hampden's Appointment — 'Library of the Fathers' — The
Triple Cord — Hospitality  .92
CHAPTER VI.
1837.
Outcry of 'Popery' — Pressure of Work — Mrs. Pusey's failing Health
— Visit to Guernsey — Tract 81  108
CHAPTER VII.
1838.
Illness of Philip Pusey and of Mrs. Pusey— Visit to Clifton and to
Weymouth— Bishop Bagot's Charge— Return to Christ Church . 122

CHAPTER VIII.
1839.
Fading Hopes— Mrs. Pusey's Death— Letters to Lucy and Mary Pusey—
Journey to Budleigh Salterton— Accident— Letters to Mr. Newman
and Mr. Keble— Return to Oxford  ,38

CHAPTER IX.
1840, 1841.
Lady Lucy at Christ Church— Project for a Mission Church and
Religious Communities— Tract 90— The Storm  160

CHAPTER X.
1841, 1842.
Lucy Pusey's Confirmation and First Communion— Visit to Ireland-
Bishops' Charges against Tract 90— The New School— Mr.
Newman's Disquiet . .  jgj

CONTENTS. xvii
CHAPTER XI.
1843.
p _ PAGE
bermon on the Eucharist — Attacked and Condemned — General Indig
nation — Publication of the Sermon — Letter from Mr. Gladstone —
Correspondence with the Vice-Chancellor . . .... 201

CHAPTER XII.
1843, 1844-
Mr. Newman's Resignation of St. Mary's— Last Sermon at Littlemore
— Adapted Books — Use of the Breviary— Illness and Death of
Lucy Pusey  225
CHAPTER XIII.
1844.
Summer at Ilfracombe — Correspondence with Mr. Newman — Mr.
Ward's 'Ideal of a Christian Church' — Proceedings in Con
vocation — The Proctors' Veto  246
CHAPTER XIV.
1845.
Foundation of First Anglican Sisterhood  266
CHAPTER XV.
1845.
Correspondence with Mr. Newman — Fears and Hopes — The Severance
— Letter on Mr. Newman's Position  281
CHAPTER XVI.
1845, 1846.
Building and Foundation of St. Saviour's, Leeds — Consecration — First
Sermon after Two Years' Suspension — Summer at Tenby — Severe
Illness — Sermon at Christinas  297

XVIH CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XVII.
1847. PAGE
Trouble at Leeds — Mr. Ward's Resignation — Mr. Macmullen's Secession
to Roman Communion  317
CHAPTER XVIII.
1847-1849.
Isolation and Insults — Position towards Rome — Summers at Hayling
Island — Dr. Hampden appointed Bishop of Hereford — Trouble
at St. Saviour's — Rest at Eastbourne and Asherne  328
CHAPTER XIX.
1849-1852.
The Gorham Judgment — Relations of the State lo the Church —
Authority — Bishop Philpotts' Protest — Attack on Dr. Pusey by
Mr. Maskell, Mr. Allies, and Mr. Dodsworth — Their Secession —
Second Wreck at St. Saviour's — Bishop Blomfield's Charge — Bishop
Wilberforce's Inhibition  344
CHAPTER XX.
1852-1858.
Visits to Pusey — Lay Element in Synods — A Generous Revenge — Second
Sermon on the Eucharist — Mary Pusey's Marriage — Death of Lady
Emily Pusey and of Mr. Pusey — Their Children at Christ Church . 369
CHAPTER XXI.
1854-1858.
Trial of Archdeacon Denison — Serious Illness — Winter of 1857-8 near
Paris — Work for Bishop Forbes — Lady Lucy Pusey's Death . . 386
CHAPTER XXII.
1859-1865.
Rationalism — Endowment of Greek Professorship — 'Essays and Re
views ' — Appeal to Dr. Pusey — The ' Eirenicon ' — Lectures on
Book of Daniel   396

CONTENTS. xix
CHAPTER XXIII.
1865. PAGE
Meeting at Hursley Vicarage— Norwich Congress— Visit to France —
Correspondence with Dr. Newman — Winter at Marseilles . . 414
CHAPTER XXIV.
1866-1870.
Death of Mr. Keble — Work in London during the Cholera — Ritual —
Correspondence with Dr. Newman — ' Second Eirenicon' — Vatican
Council — Opening of Keble College — Seventieth Birthday at Ascot
Hermitage  428
CHAPTER XXV.
1 871-1877.
Death of Dr. Jelf — Illness — Battle for the Athanasian Creed — Foreign
Tour — Sermon at Christ Church — Winter at Genoa — Dangerous
Illness — Return to England — Vacations at Malvern — Public Worship
Act — Irish Troubles — Archbishop Trench's Visit — Collapse from
Brain-work — Bishop Forbes's Death — Treatise on the 'Filioque' —
Ascot Priory  .... .... 466
CHAPTER XXVI.
1878-1881.
Serious Illness — Sermon on Science and Faith — Letters — Correspondence
with Cardinal Newman — Death of Philip Pusey — Letters on Ritual
— Last Counsels  504
CHAPTER XXVII.
1882.
Long Vacation at Ascot Hermitage — Last Illness — Death — Burial . . 545

THE STORY OF
DR. PUSEY'S LIFE
CHAPTER I.
EARLY YEARS.
1 800- 1 824.
Bon chien chasse de race.
In a note, dated August 18, 1870, Dr. Pusey says, ' I wish
to be quiet on Monday.' It was his seventieth birthday.
An entry made by him opposite August 22, in a birthday
book, — 'Edward Bouverie Pusey, 1800,' gives, under his
hand, the date of his birth. He was baptized on Sunday,
September 14, marked in the Prayer-book Calendar as
Holy Cross Day. His father, the Hon. Philip Bouverie,
youngest son of the first Viscount Folkestone, had taken
the name of Pusey, on accepting, from a distant connec
tion, Miss Jane Allen Pusey, the succession to the Pusey
estate, which became his property on her death, in 1789.
In 1798 he married Lady Lucy, daughter of the fourth
Earl of Harborough, and widow of Sir Thomas Cave.
They had nine children, of whom three girls died in early
B

2 PATERNAL ANCESTORS.
infancy, and a son, Henry (born in 1 8 14), in 1827. All,
except the eldest son, received the name of Bouverie as
their second baptismal name.1
' I believe not in education, but in race,' was a saying
ofthe late Archbishop Trench ; and many ofthe qualities
remarkable in Dr. Pusey were an inheritance from long
lines of distinguished ancestors. Of these an account is
given in the Appendix to the first volume of Dr. Liddon's
great 'Life of Edward Bouverie Pusey,' a document full
of interest for those who ' believe that when God forms
a human life to do some appointed task, His preparatory
action may be traced in the circumstances of hereditary
descent not less clearly than in other provisions whether
of nature or of grace.' 2
In this noteworthy Appendix, which must have involved
great labour and research, the early rise to distinction of
the Bouveries, Dr. Pusey's paternal ancestors, in the
'borderland between France and Flanders,' is clearly
traced. ' " Bouverie " is literally " ox-stall " (as Vacquerie,
cow-stall), and the name was the natural product of the life
of primitive men devoted to herding and tending cattle ;
more than one head of a family would have been known
by the ox-shed, the scene and symbol of his daily toil.
Bouverie, generally written Bouvry, is still a common
1 The five who grew up were —
Philip, b. 1799 ; d. 1 855.
Edward Bouverie, b. 1800 ; d. 1882.
Elizabeth Bouverie, b. 1803; m., 1827, to Rev. J. H. M. Luxmoore;
d. 1883. Charlotte Bouverie, b. 1807 ; m., 1839, Rev. R. L. Cotton, D.D., Provost
of Worcester; d. 1883.
William Bouverie, b. 1810 ; m., 1836, Catherine, daughter of T. Freeman,
Esq., Brighton ; d. 1888.
! Life of E. B. Pusey, vol. i. Appendix, p. 477.

1320-1663.] BOWERIES AT LIEGE. 3
name, both of places and persons, in the Walloon dis
tricts of Belgium, but especially at Liege, where the
most prominent bridge over the Meuse is Bouverie
Bridge (a large district of the city bearing the same
name), and at Bruges, where the Rue de la Bouverie
runs from the railway station to the site of the Porte de
la Bouverie.' 1
There is also an interesting sketch in the Appendix 2
of the Bouveries' ' long and hereditary connection with the
municipal life' of Liege, from 1320, and especially of the
career of Jean Boucher de la Bouverie, who was burgo
master during the fierce struggle between the Liegeois
and Charles the Bold, in the fifteenth century, taking a
leading part against Burgundy. He may have been
present at the death of William de la Marck, the Wild
Boar of Ardennes, and at events immortalized in ' Quentin
Durward.' In Jean de la Bouverie this branch of the race attained
its greatest distinction, and on the popular side ; while at
Bruges the Bouveries became ' Men of the Court,' a Jean
de la Bouverie being a devoted servant of Charles the
Bold, and President of the Council of his daughter Mary
of Burgundy. He became the trusted friend of her hus
band, Maximilian of Austria, who made him a Knight
of the Golden Fleece. Another Bouverie — Gabriel,
Bishop of Angers, who had previously been Abbot of
two Monasteries, was President of the Council of Trent
in 1663, and 'seems to have been a studious and self-
denying man, especially bent on raising the tone of his
clergy.' 1 Life, i. Appendix, pp. 458> 459- * Ibid. pp. 4S&-473-

4 BOUVERIES IN ENGLAND.
Laurence Bouverie, born in 1542, ancestor of the
English branch of the family, was brought up at his
father's chateau near Sainghin, about six miles south-east
of Lille. Being threatened by his father with the Inquisi
tion, on account of disaffection to the Church, he ran away
to Frankfort, where he obtained employment in a silk
manufactory, and, probably in 1567, crossed over to
England, and settled at Canterbury, a centre of Flemish
refugees.1 Between the emigrant Laurence and his .de
scendant, Edward Bouverie Pusey, five generations inter
vened, during which the fortunes and social importance
of the family steadily grew, amongst them being 'the
cultivated young scholar and antiquarian, John Bouverie,
who died in 1750.' Dr. Pusey's grandfather, great-
great-grandson of Laurence Bouverie, was raised to the
Peerage as Viscount Folkestone, in 1747, and married in
second wedlock Elizabeth Marsham, daughter of the first
Lord Romney.
Lady Folkestone's great-grandfather, John Marsham,
was a man of great learning, and a friend of Laud. He
'followed King Charles to Oxford, shared the misfortunes
of the Royal cause, . . . and, during the Protectorate,
buried himself in his books.'2 He was noted for the
patient research which was so marked a quality in Dr.
Pusey, obtained 'a recognized position among European
scholars,' and at the Restoration 'prosperity and honours.'
1 In a letter from Dr. Pusey to Dr. Hook (April 29, 1839), he expresses
regret that his having ' subscribed largely ' to the Bishop of London's Fund
for London Churches, made him unable just then to give more, and adds, ' I
am mortified not to be able to have a hand in the Bethnal Green plan, whose
original inhabitants came over from France on the same occasion with my
family.' 2 Life, i. Appendix, p. 473.

1 711-98.] MARSHAM AND SHERARD ANCESTORS. 5
His sons were literary men : his eldest grandson entered
Parliament, married the daughter of Sir Cloudesley Shovel,
and was raised to the Peerage as Baron Romney in 1716 ;
his daughter Elizabeth having married, in 171 1, Lord
Folkestone, Dr. Pusey's grandfather. The affection between
her and her son Philip Bouverie (Dr. Pusey's father) was
ofthe tenderest and most devoted character. He resolved
not to marry during her lifetime, and brought her to his
new home, when, in 1789, he became master of Pusey.
He was forty-six when she died, in 1792, and six years
elapsed before he married Lady Lucy Cave.
Lady Lucy 'came of a stock already ancient in the
days of the Plantagenets ; the family tradition connected it
with the martyred Edward, King of the West Saxons.' l
She was fifth in descent from William Sherard, created
an Irish Peer by Charles I. as Lord Sherard and Baron
Leitrim. His widow, ' remarkable for her talent, energy,
and high spirit/ was 'a restorer of churches in an age
when men were largely engaged in dismantling them,'
and was heavily fined for her attachment to the Church
and King. Her grandson, the third Lord Sherard, was
created Earl of Harborough in 17 19; the fourth Earl was
father of Lady Lucy. Sir Thomas Cave, her first husband,
used to say, ' This is too much happiness to last,' and it
lasted less than two years, after which, in 1792, she returned,
a widow of twenty-one, to live with her father, at Staple-
ford in Leicestershire. His affection for her was such that,
although entirely approving of her marriage to the Hon.
Philip Pusey, he could not bear to be present at the
ceremony, which for a second time parted her from him.2
1 Life, i. Appendix, p. 475. * Ibid. i. pp. 475, 476.

6 HEREDITY.
From his mother's family Dr. Pusey inherited largely 'that
intense natural affectionateness' which was so large an
element in his influence over others; nor had he less
inheritance from the Marsham family, through his grand
mother, of love of learning and capacity for close application
to study ; while none who knew him well could fail to be
struck by qualities in him derived from his paternal
ancestors, — the tendency to originate enterprise, the apt
ness for business details, together with indomitable and
sanguine perseverance in carrying them out which marked
the Bouveries in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and
which again and again, throughout his career, carried their
distinguished son through times of discouragement and
trial, with hope unquenched and unwavering steadfastness
of aim. Of his father it is known that 'if anything was said in
his presence against morality or religion, he left the room,
no matter who might be in the company'.' 1 He was a
man of highest character and principle, with perhaps rather
a narrow outlook,2 reserved, and somewhat austere, but
regarded by his son with warmest affection as well as
respect. Dr. Pusey ever spoke with loving gratitude of his
mother, a typical lady of the old school of self-restraint
and even formal devotion to duty, which co-existed with
the licence in high life prevailing in the eighteenth
century. More than once he has said to the writer, ' I
learnt what I believe of the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist
1 Life, i. p. 4.
* He opposed for four years his eldest son's marriage to Lady Emily
Herbert, on the ground that her father was a Whig.

1807.] MITCHAM SCHOOL. 7
at my mother's knee.' There he used to sit on a foot
stool while she taught and explained the Catechism to his
elder brother, and he learnt it by heart from hearing Philip
repeat it. The industry which marked him through life
came out even in his early sports. The keeper, Warman,
who taught him and his brother to shoot, used to say,
' Master Edward is a better shot than young Mr. Pusey ;
he do take more pains about it' It was the same with
riding, taught by the groom ; ' Master Edward rode well
across country, and was an excellent " whip." '
At seven years old he was sent to a noted school
preparatory for Eton, at Mitcham, in Surrey, and was at
once placed at the head of his class.
' Thinking my father the only man in the world,' he
related in old age, ' I said to the master, " My father
desires you to let me read such a book." Upon which he
caned me for insolence. But I thought it was the right
way to speak. I had heard my father say, " I desire you
to do so and so." '
Dr. Pusey always spoke with gratitude of what he
owed to the master of the school, the Rev. Richard
Roberts, for laying a sound foundation of scholarship, and
enforcing accuracy — a method of training which fell upon
ground unusually prepared to profit by it. In a letter to
his son, Dr. Pusey wrote of having been kept ten hours a
day at his books when only eleven. His mother said of
her sons, 'Both my boys were clever. Philip had more
talent, but Ed'ard (as she always called him) was the
more industrious,' and she used to tell a story of Mr. Roberts
exclaiming in school, when irritated by stupidity or idle
ness, ' You are all of you dunces, except the Stanleys and

8 eton.
Puseys ; ' the late Lord Derby and his brother being
amongst his pupils.
On January 16, 1812, the Pusey brothers went to Eton,
Dr. Keate being then headmaster. ' He was in my father's
house with me, he at the top, I at the bottom ; ' the
present venerable Warden of the Clewer Sisterhood, Rev.
T. T. Carter, writes (July 5, 1899), 'my father used to tell
me of his long exercises.'
At Mr. Carter's they found their first cousin, Lord
Harborough. It is characteristic of Dr. Pusey that, writ
ing to his brother Philip on Lord Harborough's death, of
his kindness, as an elder boy, to his little cousins, he adds,
' I prayed for him by name for years.'
There were a more than usual number of youths at
Eton, fellow-pupils of Dr. Pusey, destined to take high
place in future life, but he appears to have been too retired
in his ways to form many close intimacies. 'Very grave
and thoughtful, and I cannot remember that he ever joined
in any of our sports,' Dean Law, of Gloucester, one of his
chief friends, wrote : ' his appearance was that of a
weakly, delicate boy; he was remarkably quiet and
retiring.' 'I did not succeed in games,' he said himself
long after; 'but I liked some things — I liked boating.
I always wished to be a clergyman, and used to love to
preach. When asked why I wished it, I used to say, " I
wish it because it is the best ; " ' and he added, with tears
in his eyes, 'It was very good of God to teach one so
early what was best.'
One of his greatest friends was the Hon. Edward
Herbert, Lord Carnarvon's son, and brother to Dr.
Pusey's future sister-in-law, Lady Emily Herbert. The

1812-17.] CHARACTER AT ETON. 9
late Lord Stuart de Decies, who was his fag, told Mrs.
Brine, when he was an old man, that her father's great
recreation at Eton was chess, a game to which he was
devoted, and in which he excelled. He was not strong
enough to enjoy out-of-door games, but was a good
swimmer, and was once nearly drowned while bathing,
apparently from an attack of cramp, and when rescued
appeared to be dead. He was wont in later days to
comfort others who feared physical pain in dying, by
speaking of the sensation of becoming insensible as ' very
delightful.'1 His Eton life 'began some time before Bonaparte's
advance to Moscow ; ' it ended two years after Waterloo.
In a striking passage, Dr. Liddon suggests that the great
European events which took place during Dr. Pusey's
boyhood had probably a marked influence, which may be
traced on the public career of several of his Eton con
temporaries, and that ' in Edward Pusey they contributed
to develop that sense of the presence of God in human
affairs, as attested by swift and awful judgments, which
coloured so largely his religious convictions.' 2
The opportunities for religious training in English
public schools were not considered as they are now ; but
it is known that at Eton Edward Pusey 'led a blame
less life, that he never omitted the prayers which his
mother had taught him,' and that before he left Eton,
'he was regarded amongst his friends as the natural
guide of the younger boys.' Writing, in 1845, to her son
William, Lady Lucy Pusey says, after mentioning letters
she was destroying —
1 Life, i. p. 15. 2 Ibid. i. p. 16.

10 DR. MALTBY.
Reading over some I had preserved of Edward's, I could
see in him the same character in early youth that he has now,
especially in some he wrote me from Eton, upon his receiving
the Sacrament, and upon the death of one of his schoolfellows in
Mr. Carter's house.1
He left Eton in July, 1817, having been confirmed
about a year previously at the Chapel Royal, St. James's,
by the Bishop of London, Dr. Howley, and was for a year
and three months under the care of a private tutor, Dr.
Maltby, a distinguished scholar, then Vicar of Buckden,
later Bishop, first of Chichester, and, in 1836, of Durham.
' Pusey never referred to him ' without a good word for
' Maltby's scholarship,' and would hold his tongue or
change the subject when graver matters were discussed.2
He knew too well the absolute need of good scholarship
for such a lifelong battle as he was to wage not to feel
abiding gratitude to those who had materially aided in
sharpening his weapons for the encounter. Dr. Maltby
did not pretend to be a theologian, and, in a charge to
his clergy against Tractarianism, after the publication of
Tract 90, said that he had had no intercourse with the
' able writers,' whom he condemned, ' excepting, indeed,
one distinguished individual, of whom, as a former pupil,
I have no recollections but such as are most agreeable ' ;
and to Dr. Pusey he wrote, at the same time, ' Although
we so unfortunately differ at present in our opinions, I
shall always be glad to receive you as an old friend.'
During his stay at Buckden he spent a few weeks at
home, in the summer of 18 18. He was nearly eighteen.
There he met for the first time, and at once loved, her who
1 Life, i. p. 17, u. 2 Ibid. i. p. 22.

i8i8.] M/SS RA YMOND BARKER. 1 1
was to be his future wife, Maria Catharine Raymond
Barker, his ' dearest blessing,' as he was wont to call her.
She was the youngest daughter of John Raymond, Esq.,
who had taken the name and arms of the Barkers, an old
Shropshire family, on the last of that family bequeathing
to him the Barker property at Fairford, in Gloucestershire.
Fairford Park was only fifteen miles from Pusey, and the
Barkers and Puseys appear to have been on most friendly
and neighbourly terms.
Miss Raymond Barker was just seventeen at this time,
when she gained Edward Pusey's devoted and unchanging
love. ' I was no free agent (unless principle bade me stop)
after I had seen you,' he wrote to her long after. ' Every
thing has been the necessary consequence of that' There
cannot be many instances of an attachment conceived by
a boy of seventeen remaining unaltered, only growing in
strength, and changing the whole drift of feeling and out
look on life, during nine years of separation — a remarkable
token of steadfastness of aim and fidelity to affection once
felt, which was one of the strongest elements in Dr. Pusey's
character. He entered Christ Church in January, 1819, many distin
guished in their after career being his fellow-undergraduates
— amongst them his cousin, Lord Ashley,1 to whom England
owes so deep a debt of gratitude. Unlike in many ways,
the cousins had this in common, that they were never
turned aside from high aims and ideals by opposition,
obloquy, or what would have seemed to many hopeless
difficulties. Both, in different lines, followed the same star
1 A half sister of Hon. Elizabeth Marsham, Dr. Pusey's grandmother,
had married the fourth Earl of Shaftesbury.

12 OXFORD FRIENDS.
of duty which had risen on their youthful vision, and in all
the bitter disappointments which they had to suffer, they
were both upheld by the same steadfast trust in the Name
which was their help.
Edward Pusey's tutor was the Rev. Thomas Vowler
Short (afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph), who ' held a first
place in his affection and respect to the last hour of his
life' among those to whom he 'felt indebted for moral
guidance, mental training,' and for 'earnest, practical
teaching, and religious instruction.' x
His most intimate friends at Oxford were John Parker,
of Sweeney Hall, near Shrewsbury, and Richard W. Jelf,
who left Eton for Oxford before himself, and of whom he
wrote, when giving him a letter of introduction in 1826,
as ' my earliest and best friend,' adding, 'in the years of
uninterrupted intercourse of friendship which I have now
enjoyed with him, I cannot easily tell how much benefit,
moral and intellectual, I have derived from him.'
With Jelf, who was a strong Tory, Edward Pusey,
at this time a Liberal Whig, visited Wales during the
Long Vacation of 1820 ; and in the summer of 1821 he
went abroad for the first time, to meet, in Paris, his
brother Philip, whose engagement to Lady Emily Herbert
may have kindled hopes in Edward's mind of happiness
for himself. In a letter to Miss Barker after their
engagement, he wrote (February 1, 1828) : —
One word on my brother : he has in every stage been the
kindest of brothers to me in this as in everything else ; twice has
he offered to diminish his income (once some years ago), if it
1 See the dedication to Bishop Short in the second volume of Dr. Pusey's
Parochial Sermons, 1852. — Life, i. p. 24.

i82i.] DISAPPOINTMENT AND DEJECTION. 1 3
could further my wishes; and in this last case it was he who
cleared away all difficulties. This I learnt not from himself. It
was he who first discovered to myself my attachment to you in
1818. He had never ceased, during all his Oxford work, to
dwell on thoughts of her who had taken possession of his
heart. He could not love without its becoming an absorb
ing passion, and on returning home from Paris the shock
was severe of finding his attachment disapproved of by his
parents, his father regarding it as a boyish fancy, and
forbidding him to see or write to Miss Barker. Mr.
Pusey's action in the matter seems to have arisen entirely
from the determination that no shadow of wrong should
arise in his relations towards old neighbours and friends,
and consequently that his son's attentions should not be
paid to Miss Raymond Barker against the wishes of her
family. Her parents were naturally desirous that their
beautiful and well-dowered daughter should consent to
a brilliant marriage which was offered to her, and dis
couraged the thought of an engagement to a younger son,
as yet without a profession, or any income of his own.
He was now of age, but it does not seem to have even
occurred to him to dispute or disobey his father's order,
although so miserable that his health was seriously injured,
chiefly by attacks of violent headache, from which he was
to suffer much in coming years. The almost despair of
this time — during which he thought of leaving Oxford
and giving up his career — may have become less, but
appears, from his mother's letters, to have passed into
permanent and deep depression, and for six years more
he lived under the pressure of an ever-present sorrow and

14 LETTERS FROM LADY LUCY.
of hope deferred. It destroyed his happiness at home,
but not his dutifulness. Lady Lucy writes to him in 1823,
when the separation from Miss Barker had lasted for two
years : —
In parting with you I always feel that I am losing a great
comfort and a child that really loves me, and wishes, both by
precept and example, to do all the good he can in the family.
... I only wish, my dear son, that I could see or make you
more happy, for it grieves me, however you try to conceal it, to
know that you are far otherwise. I trust, however, that that kind
Providence, who for our good allows us to be tried and endues
us with fortitude to resist and to bear up, will in His good time
restore you to ease of mind and reward you with much happiness
for your dutiful and unremitted and affectionate attentions to your
parents. I was very, very sorry, when the letter came from  j1
as I could not desire your sister to suppress it, and I knew how
you would feel it. When I learn anything, you may depend upon
my telling you. In the meantime, I shall repeat that Dr. Baillie,
in both his visits, assured the parents that there was not the least
danger, though the recovery would be slow.
In a letter, February 17, 1823, written apparently a few
days later, Lady Lucy says, alluding again to anxiety as
to Miss Barker's health —
I had determined upon writing before your sister received a
letter from  , but I now wish to do it, as it mentions that,
though  suffers from her head and side, yet she had been
out walking last week. Was there the most distant apprehension
of consumption, this would not have been permitted. . . . Your
father thought we engrossed too much of your time in our last
epistle ; I fear my present one will take up more of your attention,
my dear Edward, than we should wish, but I must fulfil my
1 In any allusion to Miss Barker in Lady Lucy's letters she leaves a blank
for her name.

iS22.] FIRST CLASS AT OXFORD. 1 5
promise. May Heaven bless you, and make you as happy as you
deserve to be. My dear Edward,
Your very affectionate mother, Lucy Pusey.
His health was not improved, on returning to Oxford,
by giving up hunting three times a week, and riding,
of which he was fond, to bury himself in books. ' Pusey
reads most desperately,' his friend Jelf wrote, ' and it is
as much as I can do to make him take an hour's exercise.' 1
Probably he found that the concentration of mind demanded
by hard study gave him respite from painful thought
In Easter Term, 1822, he took a first-class in the schools.
The Rev. G. Porter, the senior examiner, 'predicted his
greatness at that time, and always regarded him as the
man of the greatest ability he had ever known. He placed
him far above Newman. Herein, of course, he was wrong,
the two minds really being incommensurable.' 2 That Mr.
Keble, who examined him viva voce, should have said ' I
never knew how Pindar might be put into English until I
heard Pusey construe him in his examination,' is the more
remarkable because, while Mr. Keble was always sensitive
and critical as to good English, Dr. Pusey was never
careful as to its use, or took any trouble to cultivate style.
The Long Vacation of 1822 was spent in a tour through
Switzerland with Mr. Neave, an Eton and Christ Church
friend. Edward Pusey kept a lengthy journal, containing
elaborate and often striking descriptions of scenery. His
thoughts, forced by hard work from one subject, appear
to have reverted to it the more when pressure was removed.
1 Life, i. p. 31. * Ibid. i. p. 32.

1 6 TOUR IN SWITZERLAND.
It is painful, even now, to those who love him, to think of the
cloud over all these years which ought to have been of the
brightest to a youth blameless in life, already distinguished,
beloved, and esteemed in no common degree. Dr. Liddon
considered that 'the introspective tendency of his mind,
partly an original element of his intellectual character,
was developed and exaggerated by his disappointment in
regard to his affections,' and that it 'had considerable
influence on the subsequent development of his mental
attitude towards theology.' 1
Yet his depression — nourished by an extreme admira
tion, at this time, of Byron's poetry, which in many ways
fell in with his present phase of feeling — did not hinder
his being an attractive companion ; for in a letter ad
dressed to 'my dear fellow traveller,' a year later, by
Mr. Neave, the latter writes warmly of those feelings of
enthusiasm which the first sight of Switzerland awaken,
' and which,' he adds, ' I myself was happy enough to
share with you.'
The marriage of Philip Pusey to Lady Emily Herbert,
on October 4, 1822, contributed largely to his brother's
happiness, and brought into the family circle an element
of accomplishment and grace, which no one could enjoy
and value more than Edward, if combined with feminine
gentleness and sympathy for others. Amongst all the
members of her husband's family, she seems to have
been most closely united by many ties, not least those
of religion, to her young brother-in-law, and their mutual
love and friendship was unclouded to the end. Before
the close of the same autumn which brought to him
1 Life, i. p. 24.

1823.] ORIEL FELLOWSHIP. 1 7
this beloved sister, he had also met for the first time the
friend who was to be to him closer than a brother, John
Henry Newman, and who had been a Fellow of Oriel for
more than a year.
Easter-tide of 1823 was marked for Edward Pusey by
his election to a Fellowship at Oriel. He gained it in
spite of much suffering from violent headaches both before
and during the examination. It began on Easter Eve
(March 29), when he had to write an English essay.
Cardinal Newman, when an old man, told Dr. Liddon
that—
during the examination Pusey had one of his bad headaches and
broke down. He tore up his essay, saying there was no good in
going on with it. Jenkyns picked up the bits, put them together,
and showed the essay to the Fellows. It was a capital essay.1
Again, on Monday he was forced to succumb to suffer
ing, and returned to his lodgings, leaving a letter asking
to be allowed to give up the examination ; but the Fellows
were so opposed to his doing this, that he consented to
return next day, and after working from Tuesday to
Thursday, was elected.
To Newman he wrote, April 7, 1823 —
A great deal of kindness was shown me upon my election.
First, Jenkins (which I shall never forget) transcribed my notes
for an English essay on the Saturday, which I had given in hope
lessly in a very fragmentary and illegible state. ... On the
Monday . . . after two hours' discomfort, I resigned a second
time, not giving one answer to any exercise that day. On Tuesday
morning, however, I was asked whether I should wish to go on
with the exercises, making up the lost one on one of the other
days. This I of course gladly assented to. Accordingly, on
1 Life, i. p. 57. C

1 8 GOLDEN DAYS OF ORIEL.
Tuesday we did the vivd- voce and logic; on Wednesday the
English theme on the third subject given; ... on Thursday /
had a subject for a Latin theme, vice that of Monday, and some
philosophical questions.
Of Oriel College, Mr. T. Mozley has recorded that it
contained at this time —
some of the most distinguished personages, the most vigorous
minds, and the most attractive characters in Oxford. From the
Provost, Dr. Coplestone, to the youngest undergraduate, they had
been carefully selected, for to get a son into Oriel was a great
thing in those days. Keble, Whately, Tyler, and Hawkins were
tutors. Arnold, though not then residing, for he did not reside
beyond his probationary year, was present in spirit. Much the
same might be said of the softer and milder influence of Samuel
Rickards. Richard Hurrell Froude, and a younger brother, who
lived but to die, Robert Wilberforce, and latterly, Samuel, Sir
George Prevost, Dallas, Proby J. Ferrers, William Falconer,
John Colquhoun, Edward Denison, William Heathcote, Charles
Wood, and Charles Porcher, were among the undergraduates.1
Edward Pusey was one of the distinguished class which,
in May, 1823, gathered round the chair of the Regius
Professor of Divinity, Dr. Lloyd, who soon became a warm
friend to his young pupil. In after years Dr. Pusey often
said of him that he taught ' not so much the full meaning
of the Holy Scripture, as how to use it.' The advice which
Mr. Pusey himself gave at this time to a friend reading for
divinity comes with the more weight from one whose study
of books comprised so wide and immense a range —
One book is never to be out of our hands — the Bible,
and by comparing that with itself, we shall, by God's assistance,
' Reminiscences chiefly of Oriel College and the Oxford Movement, by
the Rev. T. Mozley, vol. i. pp. 18, 19.

1823.] RECREATION. 1 9
understand more of it than by any single means, though, of course,
even that is not sufficient of itself.
The tones of Dr. Pusey's voice, vibrating as from his heart
strings, when, occasionally, he read the Lessons in Hursley
Church, can never be forgotten by those who heard them.
His voice sounds again in their ears as they read words
of the Bible once heard from him. Pie read, as some one
said, 'as though he saw a vision' — as one inspired, and
yet with a perfectly calm and distinct utterance. He
probably never heard what would have given him great
pain, the present too common mode of gabbling over words
of Holy Writ in public, as something to be disposed of as
fast and as unintelligibly as possible.1 He whose life
was spent in earnestly contending for the faith once
delivered, cannot be supposed to have undervalued the
importance of impressing doctrine on the young, but he
would have esteemed the crowding out of Bible-teaching
in schools and public catechising by various manuals,
hymns, etc., however good in themselves, as a serious evil.2
After Mr. Pusey's election at Oriel, for which the joy-
bells at Pusey had rung, he probably found that his health
required some relaxation from severity of study, for
amongst the letters of congratulation on his success which
he preserved, is one dated April 8, 1823, in which the
writer says — 3
1 A young clergyman is said to have given as a reason for this practice,
that he ' feared to disturb the private meditations of the faithful.'
3 It was Mr. Keble's daily custom to remain in church after week-day
matins, to question the choir boys on the Lessons just read. In his parish
school the children committed large portions of the Bible to memory, some of
them knowing whole books by heart. He was very careful as to perfect
accuracy in. repetition of Holy Writ.
0 From 'George E. Liebenrood.'

20 STAG-HUNTING IN DEVONSHIRE.
Taking it for granted that you are in Grosvenor Square, I
shall direct this to you there, as I find your family is there, and
as I have lately seen your name amongst the beau monde.
Mr. Pusey had, probably, more comparative leisure
during this summer and autumn of 1823 than at almost
any other period of his life. He was in Devonshire in
the Long Vacation, and his friend Mr. Neave writes to
him (Oct 8) :—
You talk to me of your superior stag-hunting, and how the
fine scenery lends so much to the interest of the chase. . . .
O you hypocrite ! either your admiration for that noble sport is
feigned, or you would remind me that I could never instil into
you a proper notion concerning a sport which in England only is
known in perfection.
The great business of his life had not yet become
apparent, and it is evident, from letters at this time, that
he was looking forward to and considering the duties of a
country parish priest A long letter, of August 20, 1823,
from Rev. J. E. Tyler, Fellow of Oriel, discusses a scheme
which they had both at heart for building a chapel on
College property at Littleworth, near Faringdon.
Now, my good fellow (Mr. Tyler writes), I want to know
whether you have done anything, and what ? The first thing to
attend to is the actual state of the village. How many in all ?
How many attend church ? How many can read ? Have been
baptized? Confirmed? Have received the Sacrament? . . .
These are points which by hook or by crook I must have ascer
tained before audit, or I shall only be told my motion is pre
mature. . . . Keble tells me you have told him of our plan;
and he will not consent unless we undertake to have a handsome
building.

1S24.] LATIN PRIZE- ESSAY. 21
Mr. Pusey was also corresponding with his future
brother-in-law, the Rev. J. H. Montagu Luxmoore, who
had charge of a church at St. Asaph, and, apparently, of
a chapel at Marchwich, not far off. He seems to have
leant greatly on the advice and comfort of the young lay
man, to whom, in a long letter of October 6, 1823, he gives
a sad picture of Church life in England at that time : —
I ought to acknowledge how deeply I feel obliged to you in
writing to me. I assure you it has its use ; I have no one to have
recourse to in this neighbourhood ; the few of my own profession
I have talked with discourage me greatly. Their language in fact
amounts to this : ' We, like yourself, when first in orders, were
sanguine, were active; but our ardour was daily dampt — we
acknowledge that it is now nearly extinguished, and that when
shining it was useless. You may try as much as you will ; where
persons have not been in the habit of coming to church you cannot
bring them to attend,' ... I trust I may never be permitted to
see the truth of such a statement. . . . Your hints shall not be
neglected. Mr. Luxmoore adds that he hopes soon to send his
friend a list of those tracts published by the S.P.C.K.
which he has found ' most acceptable to those in the lower
walks of life.' It is evident from the correspondence that,
while hunting in Devonshire, Mr. Pusey was trying to
gather hints for what he believed would be his future
duties in a rural parish.
He was soon hard at work again, writing for the Latin
Essay, for which he gained the prize ; Milman, Professor
of Poetry, being one of the examiners. ' Mr. Pusey, senior,
now in his seventy-ninth year, heard his son read his
essay in the Sheldonian Theatre on June 30 (1824), and

22 EXTRACT FROM PRIZE-ESSAY.
the bells of Pusey parish church greeted the family party,
on their return home in the late summer evening.' x
The copy of Dr. Pusey's prize-essay sent by him, with
an affectionate inscription outside, to Archdeacon Dodgson
(father of 'Lewis Carroll'), lies before the writer. The
last sentence expresses so fervently the belief and deepest
feelings through life of its young author, that the following
translation, kindly made by Professor Butcher, cannot be
omitted : —
Silent are the arts of Greece, shattered the empire of Rome,
but the Faith of Christ, as on surest testimony we are fully certified,
will in the eternal courses of the ages gather strength, and last
until the day when, all that is evil or inhuman being extinguished,
it shall embrace in one bond of love the uttermost parts of the
earth. 1 Life, i. p. 65.

CHAPTER II.
ORDINATION AND MARRIAGE.
1824— 1828.
O, zarte Sehnsucht, susses Hoffen,
Der ersten Liebe goldne Zeit,
Das Auge sieht den Himmel offen,
Es schwelgt das Herz in Seligkeit ;
O, das sie ewig griinen bliebe,
Die schone Zeit der jungen Liebe ! Schiller.
AMONGST letters preserved by Dr. Pusey, there are nine
from a former school-fellow, who had always been scep
tical, and in these letters professes himself an atheist Of
the wild theories which they contain, a general risumi
is given in the ' Life of E. B. Pusey,' x but the chief
interest in the correspondence (lasting from June, 1823, to
October, 1824) lies in the unwearied efforts of a youth of
twenty-three to do what he could, at any cost of time and
labour, for a soul without belief in a God, between whom
and himself there were almost no points of contact, either
in character or faith, and in spite of his correspondent's
assurance that to attempt to convert him was 'mere
ploughing in the sand.' 1 See vol. i. pp. 44-49.

24 CORRESPONDENCE WITB A SCEPTIC.
Mr. Pusey argues, in a letter of November, 1823, from
' the marks of contrivance in external nature ' that —
for such contrivances there must have been an intelligent
contriver, and that contrivers must be external and prior to the
world, otherwise we must have the absurdity of self-production, i.e.
acting before existing.
He also suggests that the many pleasures provided for us
argue that their Creator ' wished us, upon the whole, wefl
in this life.'
The colours of flowers, I think, is a beautiful instance of this,
particularly as minds the most innocent and least entangled in
the intrigues of life, derive most pleasure from them ; and in all
these cases it has been observed there is a complex contrivance
that the sense and the object should suit each other, and that the
perception of the pleasure should neither be so light as not to
affect it, nor so strong as to oppress it. If He has called
us into being, and provided for us enjoyments beyond what is
necessary for existence, nothing seems more likely to be acceptable
to Him than, as to a human benefactor, to acknowledge His
kindness, ask Him to continue it, and that, should we have
done anything ignorantly to diminish it, He would excuse us ; if
there be anything He would wish us to do in return, He would
inform us.
There could be no greater contrast to the tone of
Mr. Pusey's letters than the scornful self-sufficiency which
breathes in the replies to them ; although their writer
is evidently sincere in his regard for his old school
fellow, ' a man,' he says, ' of whose friendship I am
unworthy.' The back of one of these replies is covered with
notes in minute writing by Mr. Pusey, references to
Celsus, Tertullian, Irenseus, etc., evidently made as he

1824.] PERSEVERING EFFORTS. 25
read the letter, with a view to answering the writer. At
the end of the year (1823), the latter expressed his wish
that the correspondence should cease, on the ground of
the injury which friendship with a determined atheist
might prove to Pusey, and he even wrote : —
I will herewith return thee  's letter, that thou mayest not
have an excuse for ever calling upon me. Indeed, as I live in
Kentish Town, I am clearly too far distant from Grosvenor Square
to enable thee to call upon me on my return to London.
But his true friend would not consent to this, and the
letters which follow are striking as an early exhibition
of his sanguine perseverance in every struggle to win
souls. His continued efforts seem to have touched the sceptic's
affections, although without power to work any change in
his state of mind. He thanks him warmly, in May, 1824,
for ' three long and admirable letters,' and adds : —
Your mildness and civility really make me blush for my rude
ness and intemperance, and I am obliged to acknowledge that you
surpass me as much in goodness of temper as in genius and
learning. I can only thank you for your letters, and entreat you,
again and again, to let the world at large have the benefit of your
lucubrations. All was unavailing.
Thou art a being of superior faculties (he wrote in one of his
first letters) ; the organs of thy forehead are more largely developed.
Had the Deity given me as much brain as He hath thee, I might
perhaps recognize Him.
That Mr. Pusey sought him out personally, in spite of
the distance of Kentish Town from Grosvenor Square,

26 GRIEF AT FAILURE.
appears from a note from the mother of his friend to her
son, in which she says: 'Mr. Pusey has kindly call'd,
and will tell you we are well.' The note, dated only
July 23, was sent, apparently by Mr. Pusey, directed to
her son at ' Hdtel de Tours,' and from this it seems
likely that, having tried to see him at his home,
Pusey purposed to visit him abroad, and took charge
of this note from his mother. As it has remained amongst
Dr. Pusey's papers, the meeting probably did not take
place. He wrote three years later of his spirits having
been broken by this fruitless correspondence, and by
perceiving a heart still more alienated from the idea of God, which it no
longer believed, so that I no longer saw even the wreck of the
friend of boyhood. . . . And [as for] the last letter — the pain of
loosing from one's hold a drowning friend . . . would be happi
ness compared with it.1
It was a foretaste of what he was to endure throughout
life from the same cause. He was not one to exaggerate
pain — endurance was in him a marked quality; and the
above words give a glimpse of the grief, as well as
labour, which his life's work entailed on him. ' I suppose
I have read more infidel books than any one living,' he
said in his later days. 'I have read them until I flung
them on the ground, sick with horror and loathing.' The
letters from his Eton friend were, he said three months
before his death,
my first real experience of the deadly breath of infidel thought
upon my soul. I never forget how utterly I shrank from it. It
1 Life, i. pp. 48, 49.

1825.] FIRST VISIT TO GERMANY. 27
decided me to devote my life to the Old Testament ; as I saw
that was the point of attack in our defences which would be most
easily breached.1
The correspondence, therefore, marks an important
point in Dr. Pusey's life. He had felt during its course
how much he needed deeper insight into the causes of
scepticism, and thought they 'could be studied most
thoroughly at Universities in which faith and a scarcely
disguised unbelief had been in conflict for more than a
generation.' 2
His mind had for some time been interested in German
literature, and on June 5, 1825, he left England for a visit
to Gottingen. Long afterwards he told Dr. Liddon that
at that time only two persons in Oxford were said to
know German.
One day Dr. Lloyd said to me, ' I wish you would learn
something about those German critics.' In the obedient spirit of
those times I set myself at once to learn German, and I went to
Gottingen to study at once the language and the theology. My
life turned on that hint of Lloyd's.3
He writes, after six weeks at Gottingen, of hoping soon
'to be able to understand German pretty well.' The
late Rev. R. F. Wilson told the writer that, when he went
as a young student to Bonn, Dr. Pusey advised him to go
to the theatre, as he had found it a great help to learning
the language. His time was, of course, chiefly taken up
in attending the lectures of, and in intercourse with, the
'giants of learning' in the University of Gottingen,
especially with Eichhorn, the Professor of Philosophy,
1 Life, i. p. 49. ¦ Ibid. i. p. 76. 3 Ibid. i. p. 72.

28 GERMAN PROFESSORS.
who had 'ranged through the Oriental languages,' and
•produced, amongst many other works, eighteen volumes
on Biblical and Oriental literature,' and ' Introduc
tions ' to the Old and New Testaments, each in five
volumes. Mr. Pusey attended his lectures on the Books of Moses,
and was struck by his 'total insensibility to the real
religious import of the narrative,' combined with wonderful
historical and critical knowledge. With Ewald Mr. Pusey
became intimate, and he sat under Pott, Professor of
Theology, who explained away ' all the miracles of the
early part of our Lord's life,' though believing in the
reality of the Resurrection.
After a time he went to Berlin, where he attended the
lectures, on the Acts of the Apostles, of Schleiermacher,
'whose philosophical culture was of the highest order,'
and who received him cordially. Of him Dr. Pusey spoke
later as ' feeling his way back from rationalism towards
positive truth.' Amongst his other friends were the his
torian Neander, who, sixteen years later, wrote to him of
' the Christian communion between them ; ' Hengsten
berg, 'from the first intimate with Pusey;' and, above
all, Tholuck, with whom his friendship was close and most
affectionate, and with whom his ' best hopes for Protestant
Germany were bound up.' x Tholuck's spirit must have
been in sympathetic unison with Mr. Pusey's, since Dr.
Liddon mentions him as being 'first of all, a believing,
practical Christian, and then a theologian,' whose 'rich
intellectual gifts, fervid temperament, and strenuous will,
were consecrated to Christian work ... a man for whom
' Life, i. pp. 72-87.

> 825.] RETURN TO ENGLAND. 29
theology was the expression of truths that lay nearest
to his heart.' 1
At this time, as he said himself in old age, he thought
less than fourteen hours' study a bad day's work ; and, as
usual with him, Nature took revenge on overstrain by severe
headaches. Long letters from his mother were a refresh
ment ; his interest in slight details about friends being
remarkable (as ever in after-life) ; details of the villagers
he cared for, and even that his dog ' went whining this
morning at your door for admittance.'
Trouble not yourself (his father writes, July 26, 1825) to write
long letters, or to vary your subjects and your matter. I only
want to know that you are well, that you are as little troubled with
headache as we can reasonably expect to hear, that you sleep well
and long enough, that you are not too studious, and that your
progress in the language equals your hopes and expectations.
Lady Lucy adds, in the same letter, evidently with
some misgivings as to the mental result of his German
studies : —
I think your new medical friend insures your health too
sanguinely, he does not know what enemies your books are to
your enjoying it, but I trast and hope that your present studies,
my dear Edward, will never prove so to you in the more essential
way; and may they in future be productive of that good you
hope. Mr. Pusey returned to England in October, 1825. A
serious change in his thoughts for the future had passed
over him. ' Until my visit to Germany,' he once said to the
present writer, ' I had never looked forward to anything
for my life's work, except the cure of a country parish.
Life, i. p. 79.

30 CHANGE OF PURPOSE.
But then I saw the torrent of unbelief; I knew it was
advancing upon us in England, and I said to myself, " We
are wholly unprepared for it." So I knew that I could not
both prepare to meet it, and take a parish.' He wrote, in
November, 1825, to his friend Mr. Salwey, to whom, four
years later, the family living was given which would have
been his —
My visit to Germany has opened to me a new line of pro
fessional study. . . . God grant that it may turn out well. Yet I
have sacrificed much immediate comfort and happiness, which
acting with Newman in his large parish would have given me —
perhaps improvement tbo. Yet it was incompatible with these
pursuits, and I had some hopes that I might be thus more useful :
but God only knows.1
To Dr. Liddon he said in 1878 —
I can remember the room in Gottingen in which I was sittmg
when the real condition of religious thought in Germany flashed
upon me. . . . From that time I determined to devote myself
more earnestly to the Old Testament, as the field in which
Rationalism seemed to be most successful.8
He felt that he must return to Germany, seeing clearly
' that a real knowledge of Hebrew requires a background
of Arabic, and the other cognate languages,' and he left
England for Berlin in June, 1826, remaining abroad for a
year of severe work, spending from fourteen to sixteen
hours a day in the study of Arabic, Syriac, and Chaldee.
Even in the excessive and exhausting heat of that summer
in Berlin he spared no toil, if, as he said, 'perchance
1 Life, i. p. 89. There had been a plan that when ordained on his college
title, he should become second curate at the new Parish Church of St. Clement's,
Oxford, of which Newman, ordained deacon a year before this, was curate.
s Ibid. i. p. 77.

1826.] SECOND VISIT TO GERMANY. 3 1
something more might be known about the Sacred
Language, than would otherwise have been possible.'
He found refreshment, though not relaxation, in a sojourn
at Schonhausen, close to the Palace, which the King of
Prussia had lent for the summer to the Duke of Cumber
land, and where he met his friend, Jelf, who had been
appointed tutor to Prince George, the Duke's eldest son.
In September he sought, at Greifswald, the sea-breezes
in which he always delighted, but made no pause in labour
— working hard under a great Arabic scholar, Professor
Kosegarten, in whose family he lived on terms of warmest
friendship, gaining, wherever he went, the love as well as
respect of all who had much intercourse with him.
The drawback which he felt keenly to his present studies
was, that in order to master Arabic,
you must (as he wrote later) employ much of the time on non-
Christian literature which you would have wished to bestow on the
direct study of God's Holy Word. This was to me, again and
again, in my course of study, matter of pain and almost hesitation
and misgiving ; but, this sacrifice made, everything else appeared
to be in the line of duty.1
He felt this so strongly, that, in November, 1826, he
refused to undertake a tutorship at Oriel, in spite of its
being urged upon him, not only by the Provost, but by his
friend Newman ; offering to resign his Fellowship rather
than give up his Oriental studies. In writing on the
subject to the latter, his estimate of his fitness for the post,
and of his own attainments, appears : —
The labours for Oriel,2 the subsequent ill-health and weakness,
the time expended on the Essay, the unfortunate circumstances
1 Life, i. p. 97. 2 I-e- for his Fellowship.

32 STUDY OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES.
of my friend, and the subsequent examination of Dupuisianism,1
the immediately ensuing study of German, the subsequent
application to Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, and Arabic, have made
my studies miserably desultory, and kept me at a distance
from the core of Theology. ... In England we have no
idea of the time which is usually employed, and which ought
to be employed, on these languages. . . . Unless I bestow
still a considerable portion of time upon them, I shall infallibly
lose them ; and with them should lose the power of executing
what I have most at heart, and only have at heart, because I hope
it will be useful.
In the same letter Mr. Pusey expresses his sense of
' miserable deficiency in expressing ' himself. He also
says —
You will be glad to learn that I am satisfied on some points,
on which I have mentioned to you that I did not see my way
clearly — such as the genuineness of the whole of Daniel, and the
application to our Saviour of some of the Psalms — to which I
before saw difficulties. My having felt these difficulties will not
probably be an objection to my being entrusted with the office I
propose,2 as, had they not been removed, God forbid that I should
ever have unsettled the opinion of another upon them.
The refusal of his offer to undertake a theological
lectureship was a great disappointment ; he wrote from
Bonn (January 9, 1827) to Newman that he had hoped
it might be a partial relief to him in his tutorial work,
adding : —
I felt hopes that it would be of considerable advantage to myself.
I looked with the greatest interest to the employment, and with
1 See pp. 22-26. He had undertaken this, and set before himself the
immense task of writing a refutation of Dupuis' theories, because his sceptical
friend had appealed to them.
2 To undertake a theological lectureship, which he had offered to do,
though declining the tutorship.

1826.] LIFE AT BONN. 33
comfort to the prospect of at last commencing an active life. . . .
Enough of this ; the lectures are in better hands, though I again
sink into practical inactivity, without at present a prospect of
altering it. The cure of souls I dare not undertake.
In December, 1826, Mr. Pusey had gone to Bonn,
spending a fortnight at Berlin, on his way from Greifswald,
in order to study under Freytag, the greatest of European
Arabists. Ewald was at this time a distinguished pupil
of Freytag, and became an intimate associate of Edward
Pusey.1 One of his difficulties at this time, related by
Dr. Liddon, is amusing, that of avoiding duels, through
forgetting when out walking, and absorbed in thought,
to take the right side of the road, which was seized upon
by Bonn students as an intended affront He received
more than one challenge, but his courteous explanations
set all to rights, while to one fellow-student, at least, his
friendship proved a lasting blessing, and who afterwards
wrote to him —
I should be most ungrateful to the heavenly Ruler of my paths
if I did not first of all say loudly, nay, rejoicingly, that you have
in me saved an erring soul, and have led it to the One Good
Shepherd.2 It was a constant marvel to Dr. Pusey's friends how
he could find time, in advanced age, for pastoral care
of individuals, amidst public and literary work needing
1 When Ewald last visited Max Mulier at Oxford, he hesitated to call at
Christ Church, not knowing whether Pusey would like to see him, ' after all
that they had written about each other.' Pusey was at the moment away
from Oxford, but when Professor Max Mulier told him on his return about
Ewald's scruples, he laughed heartily, and said he should have been delighted
to see him again. — Life, i. pp. 105, 106.
1 Ibid, i. p, 108, D

34 VISITING THE SICK.
long and laborious research ; always appearing to be at
leisure for any one he could help, and never hurried. Now,
at twenty-seven, the severe study which he chose, in order
to prepare him for what he hoped ' might be useful,' did
not hinder him from visiting the sick and poor. Twenty-
seven years later his niece was in Germany, and wrote :—
When at Bonn in 1855, I gave my name at a shoemaker's
shop, and the woman asked if I was related to the great
Professor. Rather surprised, I said Yes, and asked why she
inquired. She brightened up, and said that while he was there as
a student, her mother was very ill, and that he used to come and
read, and pray with her.
Letters, written by Mr. Pusey a few months later, show
that notwithstanding his own sense of unfitness for the
cure of souls, others were drawn, while he was still a young
and inexperienced layman, to confide in him spiritually.
Though I would here, least of all, incur the fearful responsi
bility of diminishing in the mind of any human being their sense
of the necessity of a continual progress in holiness, and of con
tinual improvement in the regulation of their own heart, I do feel
here convinced that there is no occasion for distressing anxiety
and sorrow. Sorrow, indeed, must accompany us until we are
finally freed from its parent, sin ; yet the ' godly sorrow ' which a
Christian must daily feel, if he think daily upon himself, need be
no harassing feeling; he does not see, indeed, that progress in
himself which he wishes ; the more carefully he sifts his actions
and motives, the more he sees which causes self-dissatisfaction ;
yet, if he compare himself with what he formerly was, he sees that
some progress has been made ; his sorrow quickens his diligence,
his anxiety, and petitions for assistance, but does not make him
despond. He knows that ' they who are with him are more than
they who are against him;' he knows that though of himself he

1827.] SPIRITUAL LETTERS. 35
should sink amid these waves of his passions, and his evil inclina
tions, yet that there is an arm ready to support him whenever he
shall ask for its aid ; he knows that his great enemy, when he
cannot lull him into security, will attempt to scare him into
despondency; and though, therefore, he does not omit to view
the perils and difficulties of the way before him, yet he keeps his
eye mainly fixed upon his Saviour. Were he to view only his
Saviour's form amid the tempest, he might, like Peter, be over
confident ; were he to view the tempest alone, he might, like the
same Peter, be ready to sink; but the sight of the one makes
him cease to trust in his own strength ; the contemplation of the
Other gives him the strength he needs.

Nor do I believe that any sincere prayer for spiritual good — be
the condition of the offerer what it may, be it only the momentary
interval of remorse of the self-hardening sinner — was ever un
answered, though subsequent wilfulness may subsequently prevent
its effect. If we pray for humility we, for the time, become more
humble ; if against irritability, less irritable ; but if in the course of
the day we forget what we prayed for, and God, to Whom we
prayed, and give ourselves up to the impulses of pride or irrita
bility, can we think this a non-fulfilment of God's promises ?

One cannot undo the past, though the past must be to every
Christian a source of sorrow ; yet one knows that on repentance
the past is forgiven us, that our sins are blotted out in the blood
of Christ, that in the sight of God they are pardoned, as though
they had never been : our sorrow must remain, for the more one
is forgiven, the more one must sorrow for having so offended
so kind a Father; but the sting of the sorrow is removed: its
fruits are not, or need not be, 'uneasiness'; but 'greater love
to Him who has forgiven so much,' greater care not again
to offend Him, greater watchfulness, greater humility. One ex
pression of yours I own I should think, or should wish to be,
inaccurate, that the ' discomfort of the past arises from a wounded
pride, which is angry with itself for being no better than it is.'

36 EXCESSIVE WORK.
From all I know of you, I do not think it ; a similar feeling is a
Christian feeling, and I think the Christian feeling is yours : all
who think how much has been done for us, how many means of
becoming better have been daily offered us, how many we have
altogether neglected, how few we have fully used (or rather none),
must be 'angry with themselves that they are no better,' must
wish they were better, and all would fain, if they dared, wish
themselves better. The discovery when first made is mortifying,
and every increase of self-knowledge will bring additional mortifi
cation, since, the greater our Christian progress, the more we shall
see our defects, things which in an early stage appear trifles,
assume a different character when our standard is raised, our
mutual vision quickened and cleared by increased Christian
experience and self-knowledge. Yet though probably most
Christians, who set out with a good opinion of themselves
(I say most, for there can be here no general rule; different
minds must think differently, according as they dwell principally
on their own demerits, or upon the love of God, which has
pardoned them), will lower that opinion, will become more dis
satisfied with themselves, the more they know of themselves, and
the more they improve; though they will feel the more, probably,
at times, the ' burden of this flesh,' which hinders their becoming
what they would be, and so be occasionally depressed. Still, this
self-dissatisfaction need not be a harassing feeling; it seems
designed that our increased knowledge of our own sinfulness, and
of God's great love towards us, while we were yet wholly sinners
(' in that, while we were sinners Christ died for us '), and of His
increasing love for us, when we are returning to Him, even though
' very far off,' should go hand in hand ; that at the moment we
are ready to exclaim, ' Wretched man that I am ; who shall deliver
me from the body of this death?' we should be able to add,
' Thanks be to God, Who giveth us the victory, through Jesus
Christ.' As time for all charitable ministrations, for sleep,
meals, and exercise came out of what was left of the
twenty-four hours after from fourteen to sixteen had been

1827.] HENRY BOUVERIE PUSEY'S DEATH. 37
taken up for study, the natural result ensued, and he, who
never relaxed labour, save under sharp necessity, wrote to
Dr. Lloyd in February, 1827, 'I have done my utmost,
and must now, at least for a time, diminish my exertions,'
adding, that on no account must even this much reach his
family, since he felt it absolutely necessary to continue
his studies until June. Dr. Lloyd was seriously alarmed,
feeling, as he wrote to his young friend, 'the fearful
degree of responsibility' belonging to him in the matter.
'What will your family think of me? he adds, 'if you
should kill yourself with studying with your German
Professors ? '
To the strain of over-reading was added that of deep
grief for the death, at Eton, of his promising young brother
Henry, which for some days made him incapable even
of work — the more so that, after a manner which remained
with him in later life, he turned inwards to reproach himself
that during the last two years he had ' contributed next to
nothing to his improvement' It never seemed to occur
to him, almost until old age, that man cannot do every
thing, and that for the last two years, at least, his powers
had been strained to the utmost. To Newman he wrote —
The struggle to submit to God's will brought me very low.
They are not separated who are not visibly with us. Dare one
pray for them ? Will you answer me when I see you ? Nothing,
I am sure, can be found in Scripture against praying for the dead.
Even Professor Freytag thought it needful to write to
his pupil, begging him ' not to work too immoderately,'
and reminding him that 'we ourselves, and science,
through us, suffer' when 'zeal for science . . . tempts us to

38 ENGAGEMENT TO MISS RAYMOND BARKER.
over-exertion.' 'And, my dear friend,' he adds, 'while
devoting yourself to science, do not forget the great world
of men.' Mr. Pusey mentions in a letter of April, 1827, amongst
precautions against illness which he at last found it
needful to take, that of studying in the open air (a habit
which was his to the last whenever it was possible), and
of leaving his books as soon as fatigued. For the rest
he writes of 'varying Arabic studies, though but in a
small proportion, with Hebrew and Syriac,' as one means
of relaxation. He returned to England in July, 1827 ; and, before
long, that which he had almost ceased to think of, save
as 'opening a painful vision of bliss which might have
been,' was granted to him. The clouds broke which,
before he was eighteen, had darkened his opening years
of manhood, since to him to love once was to love un
changeably, and with an intensity which involved keen
suffering during the long years of almost hopeless separa
tion from her who had won his boyish, but profound,
affection. His engagement to Miss Barker took place at Chelten
ham at the end of September, 1827 ; but a speedy marriage
was not contemplated, as Mr. Pusey had, as yet, no income
except an allowance from his father, and his Fellowship,
which he would lose by marriage. Besides, the relief from
over-work and from an ever-present sorrow came too late
to avert a serious break-down ; he was obliged to leave
Oriel, to which he had returned after his engagement, and
to seek relief from violent headaches at Brighton, where
he remained for four months under medical care.

1828.] ILLNESS AT BRIGHTON.

39

From Brighton he wrote to Miss Barker (October 27,
1827)— I have so often found what I most desired unhealthful to me,
what I dreaded, useful, that I never pray unconditionally, or even
with the proviso that ' not my will, but Thine be done ; ' but
that in this or that thing, which I contemplate, He would give me
what He saw would be most useful to my own soul, or enable
me to be most useful in promoting His glory.
In an undated letter he wrote —
Sir Matthew Tierney promises ' that in the end I shall enjoy
better health than I have for some years ; that, however, the ,
restoration will probably be slow, but that in six months I shall
certainly have health and strength long unknown to me,' and
nothing but patience is now necessary to make me a human being,
instead of what I have for some years been, a reading automaton.
The long letters, written often three or four times a
week, to his betrothed, give a touching and vivid picture
of his exceeding happiness, and passionate, yet chastened
love. But the improvement in health did not continue,
and a relapse towards the end of the year seems to
have alarmed his family, and made them feel that he
could not stand the strain of two years' delay before his
marriage, which his father had contemplated. It was
arranged, chiefly through his brother's kind offices, that
he should be married as soon as his health allowed him to
leave Brighton, and he wrote to Miss Barker, January 3,
1828— Trying as protracted indisposition is said to be, I feel that this
has been the means of removing so many difficulties — that indis
position is at all times so useful, and most so when sent to mitigate,

40 ELECTION OF PROVOST OF ORIEL.
perhaps, too great exuberance of happiness — that it has been no
trial to me ; and though I was distressed at the last relapse, because
I had just then begun to hope that things were mending, God has
given me such a pledge of His goodness in your kind affection,
that I should be the most ungrateful as well as the most impatient
of His creatures, were I otherwise than wholly patient. ... I fear,
therefore, that I must remain here — a very different mode of
spending this month from what I had anticipated, and a sadly
long separation; but in all these cases one must think it best,
because it is so allotted. I always loved J. K. for his connection
with Fairford ; but all he has said and done and written in this
affair makes me esteem him more ; there is a moral elevation in
his character which I know in no other, his extreme and growing
self-mistrust alone makes it to an unattentive eye less perceptible.
The hymns were published solely at his father's wish to see them
before his death ; 1 there is so much of his own character impressed
upon them that he published them very unwillingly, in filial com
pliance ; and considers, I believe, much in them as an otherwise
unjustifiable disclosure of what should remain known only to
his God. The affair alluded to in this letter was the election of a
Provost of Oriel. Dr. Lloyd had, to Mr. Pusey's extreme
pleasure, been consecrated Bishop of Oxford, on March
4, 1827, and before the end ofthe year Dr. Copleston, the
Provost of Oriel, had been appointed Bishop of Llandaff.
It was certain that either the fifth Fellow, the Rev. John
Keble, or the seventh, the Rev. Edward Hawkins, would
be chosen to succeed him as Provost, and Mr. Pusey
and Mr. Newman both determined to vote for Mr.
Hawkins, in spite of their great love for Mr. Keble. The
history of this momentous election has been told in Mr.
Keble's Life, Dr. Pusey's Life, and Cardinal Newman's
' The Christian Year had just been published.

«828] DR. HAWKINS ELECTED. 4 1
' Letters,' yet it is needful to refer to it briefly, since the
part he took in the matter was a source of lifelong sorrow
and self-reproach to Dr. Pusey, who came to believe that
' the whole of the later history of our Church might have
been changed,' had he and Newman 'been wiser,' as he
expressed it. Mr. Keble would have accepted the
Provostship if, as he wrote to Sir John Coleridge, ' there
had been anything like an unanimous call of the Fellows.'
As things were, he determined to refuse to be a candidate,
and wrote (December 27, 1827) to Hurrell Froude, who
was most anxious for his election, to say that he must
' with all possible love and thanks ' to him and others,
decline it altogether ; begging him to ' let good old
Hawkins walk over the course.' x There can be no doubt
that had his two great friends agreed with Froude, his
decision would have been different ; but Mr. Pusey thought
that ' the very beauty of Keble's mind ' would impede his
dealing successfully with undergraduates, ' viewing their
minds in the almost speckless mirror of his own.' He
also feared there would be ' too little of system ' in his
government. With these views Mr. Newman entirely
agreed, and wrote to Mr. Keble, telling him honestly that
he thought Mr. Hawkins agreed more with his own notions
of what would be most to the advantage of the College than
Mr. Keble did, ' for instance, as to the mode of governing a
college, the desirableness of certain reforms in the University
at large, their practicability,' etc. He ends his letter with
the words : ' The deep feelings I bear towards you, these I
shall keep to myself.' •
1 See. Memoir of Rav. John Keble, second edition, 1869, vol. i. pp. 179,
181.

42 LETTER TO MR. KEBLE.
Mr. Newman had probably gone to Brighton to cheer
his friend in his exile; for the above letter is dated
Marine Square, Brighton, December 19, 1827, and on the
same sheet of paper is written —
My dear Keble, — N. having spared me a small space in his
letter, which was written in consequence of seeing your kind
answer to mine, I am very glad to be able to express my sincere
gratitude for that kindness. I knew that whatever was done
honestly would meet with your approbation ; but it is a satisfaction
to have that expressed in such a manner. I suppressed much in
my last letter that I would willingly have said, but dreaded its, at
the moment, appearing insincere ; but I now find that it would
probably give you less pain not to be the object of the choice of
the Fellows than it will, I expect, be to me to vote otherwise than
for you. Affectionately yours,
E. B. Pusey.

And is there, indeed, no bright spot in the future at which to
look (he writes to his betrothed, January 8, 1828) because a cloud
(not that of my indisposition, but of separation) has gathered
round the dawning of my happiness? Though not generally
over-sanguine, I see in futurity many, not mere chequered spots
of light, but of those bright, pure, sunny, Grecian skies (to you so
dull and monotonous), when every cloud is dissipated and absorbed
by the noontide sun of happiness.
After a short stay near her in London, he wrote,
February 1, 1828 —
My visit to London has been to me . . . one long, or rather
short, day : you were the centre, around which every part of it (as
indeed of so much of my existence) turned. . . . Now . . . there
is, as usual, ground for self-dissatisfaction and reproach, for not

1828.] LETTERS TO MISS BARKER. 43
having employed better much of the happy time spent with you,
for allowing myself to be borne thoughtlessly along the tide of
happiness without on many occasions seeking to be useful to you ;
but it has left behind much of blessing also ; it has made known
to me, more even than your very kind letters, your exceeding
kindness towards me, exceeding, I mean, all I deserved or dared
to hope for.
All his letters to his betrothed are instinct rather with
the spirit of ancient chivalry, humble and tender, which
breathes in 'Amadis of Gaul,' or in Fouque's romances,
than with modern feeling; and never did an Amadis
approach his Oriana with more perfect chivalry, esteeming
himself unmeet for the least favour bestowed on him.
His own unworthiness was his sincerest feeling, and her
worthiness, as he beheld her glorified by his love — love
in whose light (after all, the only true light) spots and
specks vanish, and it is permitted to us to behold the
essential beauty of souls, still 'trailing clouds of glory,'
from Him in Whose image they were made.
It has always been partly gratifying (he writes to her, February,
1828), partly shaming, but always inexplicable, when I found people
take interest in me. . . . Shaming, because I always thought they
rated me too highly ; inexplicable, because I knew not on what
the interest was founded. But to find this depth of interest taken
in me, by the being to secure the very least portion of whose
interest in me I would have given everything except usefulness
( . . . the last thing you would wish me to sacrifice) is some
times affecting, sometimes overwhelming.
One always appears, when one has been with one whom one
loves, to have said less than one wished to have said, or rather to
have said nothing at all ; ... but words are not the only or,
indeed, the most effectual way of conveying the expression of
feeling ; . . . and silence, as it is ' the perfectest herald of joy,'

44 LITERARY WORK,
so it is often of every other feeling. I will not dwell longer upon
this, but do pray to God, that He will make me worthy of kind
ness which I dare to feel to be boundless, because it is bestowed
upon affection which, now that I may think of it, knows no
bounds. April 7, in answer to a letter from her : —
A thousand thanks for its affecting kindness. I fear not you
merely, but even I, cannot appreciate how great that kindness is ;
it is only when I am with you, or have your letters before me, that
I can attempt it ; at other times I dwell on the blessedness of
living with, of never being separated from, the Being whom I
love, who deserves (I will not, cannot say, more affection), but
the affection ofone better than myself; but your kindness seems
almost to occupy the background, partly, perhaps, because for nine
years I never thought it possible that I could have anything
approaching to it ; partly because I can see nothing in myself to
merit it. It remains to me a mystery, which would be entirely
insoluble, but that I know that affection has the reward attached
to it of producing reciprocal kindness.
Neither illness nor love, however, could make him lay
aside work ; and on his return from Germany he had
actually determined, 'alone and unaided' to revise the
authorized version of the whole of the Old Testament.
He had done a considerable amount of work for this object
by the beginning of 1828. But the duties of the Hebrew
Professorship, to which he was called within a few months,
obliged him, not unwillingly, to give up the task. Even
under the date November, 1839, he wrote in a small Bible,
containing corrections, ' The alterations in this book were
made in 1827, and I should not now adhere, perhaps, to
most of them.'

1828.] ESSAY ON GERMAN THEOLOGY. 45
Another subject engaged him : —
I have begun, a few days ago (he wrote, February 12, 1828), a
little essay on the causes of unbelief in Germany, which (though I
do not intend it as a bridal present, nor can it be interesting to
you) I wish to finish and print in the next few weeks ; it will not
indeed be many pages, but I must read several books for it. It is,
however, principally historical, and easy employment. The Psalms
are for the time laid aside.1
This essay, the first book written by Dr. Pusey, was,
'An Historical Enquiry into the Probable Causes of the
Rationalist Character lately predominant in the Theology
of Germany.' It was published in May, 1828, just before
he received Deacon's Orders. The eighth chapter in the
first volume of Dr. Pusey's ' Life ' is entirely taken up
with an interesting account of this work, and of the
controversy to which it gave rise with the Rev. Hugh
James Rose, who had published, in 1825, four 'Discourses
on the State of the Protestant Religion in Germany,'
delivered at Cambridge, in which he brought forward, for
English readers, the state of unbelief into which Germany
has fallen, until her so-called Protestant ' Church ' had
become 'the mere shadow of a name' — leading German
theologians teaching that our Lord's doctrine was 'only
a product of Jewish philosophy,' that 'He Himself had
erred, and that " His Apostles spread and added to His
errors." ' 2
It seems strange that any controversy should have
1 He sent the essay, however, to her, probably in proof, and thanks her
for several criticisms on his want of clearness in expressing thought.
2 In Spener's day, a man might study theology for six years at a German
University without hearing a single exposition of any book of the Bible. —
Life, i. p. 155.

46 CONTROVERSY WITH MR. ROSE.
arisen on the subject between Mr. Rose and Mr. Pusey,
since as to the main facts of the case they were agreed.
They were also inspired by the same thought — the former
in his ' Discourses,' and the latter in the change of out
look as to his life's work, caused by his lengthened abode
and labours in Germany; and that thought was the
danger to religion in England from the same wave of
scepticism which had well-nigh submerged Christianity in
Germany. The difference between them lay in their
estimate of the probable causes of this unbelief, Mr. Rose
believing the evils in Germany to arise from the absence
of episcopal control, of forms of public worship, and of
subscription to Articles of faith, while Mr. Pusey, believ
ing that all these would not, in the English Church, be a
sufficient breakwater against the advancing tide of Rational
ism, dwelt rather on what Neander called ' dead ortho
doxy,' the ' stiff and sterile ' Lutheran theology of the
seventeenth century, as the cause of the decay of living
faith in Germany, of —
The appalling picture (he wrote in 1854) which met me on my
first acquaintance with German theology, at the age of twenty-five,
and which determined my whole subsequent life. . . . Neither the
strict traditional school of Luther, nor the Pietists, who in their
first origin had so remarkably resembled our ' Evangelicals,' had
been able to stand against unbelief.1
The truth was, that the dangers he foresaw to the
Church and country which he ardently loved, were ever
present to his mind, and he seized the opportunity
given him by Mr. Rose's book to say ' What we possess
which is lacking in Germany, will not of itself and alone,
1 Life, i. p. 175.

1828]. ENGLISH AND GERMAN THEOLOGY. 47
preserve us.' He perceived a striking analogy between,
on the one side, the traditional Lutheran ' orthodoxism '
(an awkward word which he coined) and the ' High and
Dry ' school in England ; and, on the other side, between
our 'Evangelicals' and German 'Pietists.' He believed
that neither the high and dry school nor the Evangeli
cals were more fitted for the coming struggle than the
strict Lutherans and Pietists had been ; in fact, as he
wrote in the letter quoted above : —
I saw weak points in our Apologetic writers, and it was alarm
ing to see, as a fact, that they had been arrayed against the infidel
writers, and had failed. Being only twenty-seven (and as yet a
layman), I did not venture to speak more plainly. I hoped that
the picture might speak for itself to the hearts and minds of those
whom I wished to see awakened to threatened danger.
These last words, combined with the painful obscurity
of his style, explain much of the misunderstandings to
which his essay gave rise, especially as, more suo, he was
more sanguine than the event justified, as to a revival of
faith in Germany, through the efforts of such men as his
friends Tholuck and Schleiermacher.1
In Dr. Liddon's opinion, the ' Discourses ' of Mr. Rose,
a divine of ripe years and of solid learning, ' read like a
superficial treatment of a great subject when they are
placed side by side with Pusey's " Theology of Germany," '
in which he had brought together ' an amount of research,
extending over a period of two centuries and a half, at
which his German critics and translators themselves
were fairly astonished. Nowhere else in our language is
1 ' I have heard only one voice in favour of Mr. Rose's book, Schleier
macher,' Dr. Pusey wrote from Bonn, in 1827. See Life, i. p. 150.

48 REJOINS HIS FAMILY.
there so full an account of the active life of the German
Protestant Church in the seventeenth century, of its
various studies, and of its religious condition.' l
Dr. Newman wrote of ' Pusey's book,' on its publica
tion, as 'sadly deformed with Germanisms,' and ' wantonly
obscure and foreign ' : —
It is (he adds) a very valuable sketch, and will do good, but
will be sadly misunderstood, both from his difficulty of expressing
himself, the largeness, profundity, and novelty of his views, and
the independence of his radicalism.2

The long exile at Brighton was at length over, and
after a visit to Oriel he joined his family in London on
April n, his marriage having been arranged for the 17th.
His eldest sister, Elizabeth, had been, to her brother's
great satisfaction, married in the previous October, to his
friend, the Rev. J. Montagu Luxmoore. On Low Sunday,
April 13, there was a family dinner in Grosvenor Square.
All Mr. Pusey's children were present, excepting Mrs.
Luxmoore. Contrary to his usual habit, which was un
demonstrative and taciturn, Mr. Pusey made a little speech
in view of the approaching wedding. He had been ill in
the winter, but his health was now, as it seemed, completely
restored. Things (he said) had lately gone very well with him; and
he had much to be thankful for. Philip was very happily married ;
Edward was happily engaged; and he himself could wish for
nothing more in this world.
1 Life, i. pp. 153, 172.
2 Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman, i. p. 186.

1 828.] DEATH OF HON. PHILIP PUSEY. 49
During the night that followed he died very un
expectedly from a sudden failure of the heart's action.
Lady Lucy was with him ; and there wasjust time to call her
son Edward, but no other member ofthe family was present.1
Few can have more deeply mourned a father's death
than Edward Pusey. He sent notes every day that week
to Miss Barker. On Monday he wrote : —
Deepest thanks, dearest, and very kindest, for your note, so
like yourself. Do not think it selfish if I do not share this first
sorrow even with you ; in a few days, I trust, I shall be able to
think of my loved father principally, in a few more perhaps solely,
as he now is, a pure and holy and happy spirit, in the presence of
his God and his Redeemer, admitted to a portion of that happiness
which commenced in his holy life even here. . . . The last evening
of his days seemed to be a reward for his holy life : he had seen
in the last few months two children made happy ; me he had seen
blessed after years of sorrow; on the last evening we were all
around him, except one. Tuesday, April 15.
I would have made any exertion, my very dearest and
kindest, would it have contributed at all to your satisfaction : but
the change is still so recent, and so sudden and so deeply painful
a contrast to my overflowing happiness and my exultation in my
father's apparent recovery, and my delight in your interest in him,
that to see you now might only shake us both. . . . Early on
Sunday morning my brother will return from Pusey. I shall stay
with my mother. . . . God bless you. As soon as I could think
of anything but what I had yesterday morning seen, I mourned
that I should have been an occasion of throwing a gloom over
any days of yours.
On Thursday, the 17th, which was to have been his
wedding-day, he wrote : —
Differently as to-day has dawned, very dearest and very
• Life, i. p. 140, E

50 LETTERS TO MISS BARKER.
kindest being, from what I had so long anticipated, I cannot but
send you a few lines, even at the risk of bringing the to me so
painful suddenness of the contrast more vividly to your mind.
Yet as I felt in my harassing illness, so can I feel now also (not
merely persuade myself to think), that since it has been thus
ordered, it is thus best for me. . . . Our final union, though it must
have an even greater, a to me very awful, solemnity than it would
have had to-day, will not, I trust, be one of diminished happiness
to you, as far as I can contribute to the happiness of such a
being. Friday, 18th.
No thanks . . . can express my thankfulness for your
very kind and dear notes . . . that of yesterday, which was the
fullest, made me feel more deeply than any one other thing could,
how blessed I am in your kindness, in the privilege of being
attached to you. Even in this suffering it is an alleviation. ... I
am better because I feel my father nearer to me now the last earthly
remains are gone to their resting-place, than when they were here.
Now, whenever one thinks (and in these days at least one must
very often think) of his and our God and Father and Saviour,
one seems again united with him; all the dreary past seems a
dream. ... I feel that though his ' mansion ' must be higher than
mine can ever be, one shall continue to be more and more through
life united to him, and more yet hereafter. The mercy of our
God and Redeemer can make even this separation a closer
union. Saturday evening.
It seems almost unnatural not to have been yet with you,
yet it were perhaps more so, before the memorial of our loss is yet
removed altogether from sight, to revisit the house where I had
been blessed with so much happiness, and from which more was to
be conferred upon me. . . . You will be assured that it is only
because I love you more than any other human being, that it is so
inexpressibly difficult to me to see you now. Sunday, 20th.
It was not irresolution which has prevented my seeing
you ; my first motive was the dread of creating discomfort to you,

1828.] RETURN TO OXFORD. 5 1
by the inability of controlling earthly agony in myself; my second,
that, much as my dear father loved you, and though I cannot
think that he could have disapproved of my seeing you, even thus
soon, there did arise an uncontrollable feeling, that it were almost
profanation to leave this house of mourning to visit one where
I could not, perhaps, but for a time be happy. ... I went this
morning to the chapel, where we were together last Sunday. My
father had had great pleasure in thinking that we two were going
to say our prayers together. . . . Though you have just lost a
father, I trust that you will find a mother in mine. . . . God bless
and strengthen you, love ; that He may do so will be my fervent
prayer, difficult as it is to persuade myself that you need prayer
of mine. The funeral was at Pusey, on Sunday, April 20.
Edward remained with his mother in London.
Early in May he returned to Oxford, to read for his
Ordination. 'Poor Pusey came here last Monday,'
Newman wrote to his sister, May 10. 'He is much
thrown back, and his spirits very low. He proposes being
ordained on Trinity Sunday. I suppose his marriage will
take place shortly after.' x
To his betrothed, he wrote from Oxford of the pain of
meeting those who • evidently wished to show sympathy,'
but who feel ' that one's sorrow is too sacred to be dwelt
upon even with them.' In reply to her writing, in depres
sion, of everything being gloomy, and sad, and heavy, he
says : —
It should not be so even were we parted, or were there a
prospect of our being parted, not to meet again in this world ; were
one of us departing where my father is, and much less now. I
1 Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman, i. p. 182.

52 LETTERS TO MISS BARKER.
trust that as long as we are continued to each other, we may be of
use to each other ; yet whenever God shall call one of us away,
the other must trust in Him to supply the place of what was on
earth only lent for a time. I cannot picture to myself what would
be my condition without you ; it seems as if it would be a long,
long time before I could then so sanctify memory as to dwell
solely, as I do generally, in the present case, — I will not go
on. . . . God bless you, love, and give you His peace. . . . How
happy should I have been could I have prolonged my stay ; it
would have .been a very, very happy week, but it would not be
fulfilling my father's wish. . . . Most grateful and most happy am
I to be your Edw.
Her birthday, May 20, he spent with her at Hambledon,
near Henley-upon-Thames, where she was staying, and
wrote to her on the previous day : —
I purpose to set off at half-past two to-morrow morning, if I
can wake ; and how should I not wake early on the day on which
the star which has ruled my destinies ever since it rose on my
horizon, and which now sheds such a pure, bright, lovely light
around me, first rose ? One day only can be more hallowed to
me than to-morrow, that when I shall be permitted to call you by
a name, also within ' four little letters bound,' dearer to me than
even that of ' love,' because it comprises that, and oh, how much
union, or rather unity of heart and mind besides, which even love
does not all express. Love does convey all the union which there
can be now . . . that other word promises (or rather it is
promised by Him Who made and hallowed this union) that we
shall be then not only ' as one,' but ' one.'
The gratitude expressed in these letters — almost all
ending ' your grateftd and most attached,' etc. — the con
stant dwelling on the ' kindness ' of his betrothed is rath1-1'

i838.] LETTERS TO MISS BARKER. 53
perplexing, since ' kindness'— a word which always seems
to imply somewhat of effort— can hardly co-exist with real
love, being lost in it. But the following letter explains
it. Writing (May 13, 1828) of 'deriving comfort from
[her] kindness,' he continues : —
from (I may dare to say, though I have always avoided the
word, as it seemed too much for me) your love. This time things
are quite different . . . and though my heart is full, almost to
choking, of a thousand different feelings, I still can rest upon the
thought of that love, as a bright, cheerful spot among all sorrow ;
as one which, if God should hereafter send sorrow, must temper,
cheer, sanctify all. I never indeed mistrusted — I had full, very
full, proof in the dear notes which were written to me during the
week of absence in town, in the kind tenderness of the loved
countenance which had become pale for my sorrows, that ' a
ministering angel ' was given me, to soothe every anguish which
was sent me. Yet I had for years thought it so impossible that
any one, much more such an one as she I loved, could do more
than give me her esteem, I had thought it so little possible that
I should have any opportunity of obtaining even that, and what
has been given me is so exceeding great a blessing that I have
been throughout inclined to understand every kind expression in
the lowest sense which it could convey. I have not dared to
attach to them their full meaning, or to believe to how great a
degree I had a right to be happy. Very happy I was, and knew
that I must be ; but how happy, I dared not then, I can now
probably but inadequately, conceive. The attentive kindness,
which would not let me be grave, or which shared my gravity
when it was overpowering, which watched each line of my counte
nance, and wore a smile which none but myself could probably
have seen was but worn (because none but myself would have
watched so narrowly), the dear affection which allowed me to
show my treasure how much I loved her . . . make even me
venture to call that kindness, love. . . . The privilege of loving
you was so very much greater than all I could wish — that of

54 LETTERS TO MISS BARKER.
endlessly returning love for love, is a thousand-fold greater, and
makes the love itself a thousand times more love. For even the
dear words kindness, affection, etc., and all that much-loved train
of words 'kindest, dearest,' whose half-uttered sound was sweeter
to me than even the long-remembered notes of your harp of old,
are to me very different from that one magic word, ' love.'
To a letter from her expressing fear that he did not
perceive some fault of which she was conscious, he
replied — May 28, 1828.
Few would probably dare to confess to themselves, fewer
to tell the being whom they loved, that they were aware that she
had defects ; yet it is but a timid half-love which will not venture
to see the whole truth : it implies a suspicion of its own strength
and firmness ; and though I trust that we shall love each other
better when the defects inherent in each shall be, through God's
assistance, diminished, and most then, when, altogether purified
and made fit for the presence of God, there shall no longer be
* speck or spot ' in either of us, yet I trust, also, that no discovery
which either may make shall weaken that love ; nay, our very
knowledge of them may increase it, since nothing so much in
creases it as the endeavour to improve one another, and as mutual
prayer to our Father to improve us. May 30, 1828.
The examination was over on Wednesday, and turned
out to be one which I could have answered as well eight years
ago. Had I known this, I might have had many more happy
days at Henley.
On Trinity Sunday, June 1, 1828, Edward Bouverie
Pusey was ordained deacon by Bishop Lloyd, at Christ
Church.

1828.] ORDINATION. 55
To Miss Barker he wrote — Oxford, June 3, 1828.
Sunday was a very solemn day ; it would have been
everywhere ; but the ordination taking place in the part ofthe cathe
dral which I used to frequent for four years, and in which I had not
now been for five, brought a tide of recollections of former life ;
a strong comparison of myself with my former' self. Yet it had
been in itself one of the most solemn days of life ; however one
had before purposed to devote one's best powers to the glory of
God and the good of ' the Church, which Christ purchased with
His own blood,' one had not by any open act pledged oneself to
it ; one seemed more a free agent, a volunteer, who had still
liberty (though there was no possibility of the wish) to employ
himself in any other way ; it is now otherwise : if I do not now
dedicate all my strength to it, if I do not now exert every power
to purify my heart, and improve my mind, as may most tend to
advance His kingdom, I shall have broken my faith solemnly
pledged, be a deserter, a renegade, a worse than ' slothful servant.'
I cannot now in anything offend, without producing a propor
tionate offence in others ; if the ministers of the Church, which
still ought to be the salt of the earth, lack saltness, there is
no external means by which they can recover it, they are fit
only to be cast out. Yet these thoughts, though solemn, are not
depressing ; with every fresh responsibility, fresh strength is given.
There must be more earnest watchfulness, more earnest prayer,
that ' the ministry, through my fault or negligence, be not blamed,'
but the very sense of having this ' high calling ' is a hallowing
thought. In the midst of such thoughts as these, you will not be much
shocked, I hope, that I was selfish enough not to be able to think
of anything connected with June 1, except those which swelled
upon me in connection with that great service, whose objects
terminate not with this our narrow career, nor are bounded by
any temporary interests, however exalted, but, commencing in
weakness are continued in power, date only in time, but last
through eternity. In fact, however, whenever I was not engaged,

56 LETTERS TO MISS BARKER.
(for the service lasted three hours, and I began my duties by
reading in a parish church),1 I was tired, or was thinking ; every
thing which I had to do wore a new aspect ; all the little every
day duties of life seemed on that day, as the first when I was a
minister of the gospel, to assume a new character.
Long years afterwards, he said that, though feeling he
could not combine his special work with parochial cares,
he had always wished for direct work for souls, and added,
with a bright smile, that God had granted his wish by
permitting him to minister to individuals. ' There is this
comfort,' he said playfully, ' in my large parish, as I call it,
that every one in it wishes, at least, to be good.' 2
To Miss Barker.
Sunday morning [June 8, 1828].
Brightly has the last week of separation, and the first of
uninterrupted, entire union dawned, and with the first rays of
light I thanked God that that last week was, I trusted, come. It
is at times almost an overwhelming thought, that that happiness,
which, even in the more buoyant parts of the nine first years was
seldom an object of hope ... is now come. ... I am, in a few
hours, to assist for the first time in administering the Communion.
. . . The person whom I am going to assist is a very valued
and dear friend, with whom I should most have wished to be
joined in this holy office.
1 Mr. Newman noted, June I , Pusey ordained. He read prayers for me
in the evening at St. Mary's, and reminded me years afterwards that I said to
him, ' If you read from your chest in that way, it will kill you.' And in fact,
about 1832, he had read himself dumb. — Letters and Correspondence of
J. H. Newman, i. p. 186.
2 Dr. Liddon considers that at this time he looked upon his ordination
' mainly as furnishing a consecration of learning, by keeping before him the
one sacred object which secures for learning its true dignity,' and desiring to
'work for souls, but indirectly, by removing, through literary labour, difficulties
in the way of faith.' — Life, i. p. 142.

1828.] MARRIAGE. 57
On Sunday, June 8th, after Mr. Pusey's ordination, he
assisted Mr. Newman at the altar by administering the
chalice ; and on the Thursday in that week, June 1 2,
the earthly crown of joy for which he had so long and
patiently waited, was granted to him. He was married at
St Mary's, Bryanston Square, to Maria Catharine Barker,
by ' his best and earliest friend,' R. W. Jelf.
They visited the English Lakes, Western Highlands,
and 'some of the Hebrides' during their three months'
wedding tour. Amongst those whom they visited were
Mrs. Southey, Mrs. Coleridge, and Sir Walter Scott, with
whom they spent two days at Abbotsford.
Mrs. Pusey notes in her diary, 'August 13 — Walked
with Sir Walter Scott, etc., through the Rhymer's Glen.
14 — Saw the ruins of Newark Castle and the town of
Selkirk. 15 — Left Abbotsford, revisited and sketched
Melrose. 16 — To Rokeby Park. 17 — Edward read the
service to all the household, it being too wet a morning to
go to the church. ... A large party to dinner.'
On September 4th they went to Badger Hall, in Shrop
shire — ' Aunt Browne's,' Mrs. Pusey wrote in the diary ;
and, 7th, Sunday — 'John read prayers, and dear Edward
preached.' It was his first sermon ; his text was Heb. xii.
14 : ' Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which
no man shall see the Lord.' Miss Boddington, a cousin of
Mrs. Pusey, living at Badger Hall, wrote of it at the time
as a 'most truly excellent and beautiful discourse — a
bright spot in a barren waste.' Still more interesting is
her notice of ' Edward Pusey ' at this time, as ' entirely
engrossed with the subject of Divinity, and, unless upon
that point, a silent man ; ' yet 'his amiability and kindness

58 FIRST SERMON.
to every one very pleasing, but not more than might well
be expected from one so deeply imbued with the spirit of
Christ's religion. He went about with us into all the
cottages,' she adds, ' having a word of advice or comfort
for every one.' J 1 See Life, i. p. 144.

CHAPTER III.
THE CHRIST CHURCH HOME.
1828-1833.
To some few men, and these are generally the best, God gives that
exaltation of heart, that wonderful addition to what is commonly
known to be love, which makes it all one to them as if they were
shown the ideal wife as first she was given. — Jean Ingelow.
'Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say, Rejoice,'
was the text of Dr. Pusey's first sermon after receiving
Priest's Orders ; and when, eleven years later, his earthly
happiness was shattered, he still, and as long as he lived,
dwelt on the duty of religious joy. Now, for a time, the
sunshine of life and love was granted to him, and the voice
of joy and health was in his dwelling. None ever welcomed
happiness more eagerly and thankfully, touched by it,
even as by pain, to the depths of his great loving heart,
expressing it even in the signature to his first note to his
wife after their marriage. They arrived in Oxford on
September 12, 1828, living for two months in Bishop
Lloyd's lodgings, which he had lent them, in ' Tom Quad,'
Christ Church.
Mr. Pusey had as yet no professional income or settled
occupation ;but, two months after his arrival at Oxford, a

60 HEBREW PROFESSORSHIP.
letter from the Duke of Wellington informed him of his
appointment, by the King, to the Regius Professorship of
Hebrew in Oxford, vacant by the early death of Dr.
Nicoll. His visit to Bishop Lloyd had just come to an
end. Mrs. Pusey's diary records: — 'November 12 — Left
Oxford, and arrived at Pusey. 13 — Began reading the
Epistles with Edward. 14 — William Pusey rode over with
the Duke's letter ; Edward went to Oxford. 15 — Edward
returned home.'
He had intended to return to Pusey on the 14th, but
sent a messenger later in the day, with a note to his
wife : — Oriel, 5 o'clock.
When I arrived here I found that it was very fortunate
that I had come  it was very necessary. . . . The messenger
will bring back any letters, and you might pack up my little cat.1
... I fear, dearest, that it is almost doubtful whether I can return
to-night. I will, if possible ; but if I do not by half-past ten, do
not expect me. I shall be at the Provost's, and will ride over
early to-morrow. Ever, dearest blessing, your attached, grateful,
and so happy husband,
Edw.
No appointment could have brought him greater
pleasure. It gave to him, while still a deacon, a chair of
authority, with ample opportunity of using learning as the
handmaid of theology. The desire to equip himself for
this task had upheld him during the excessive labour of
years, and now his heart's desire was granted, mainly
through the efforts of his devoted friend, Bishop Lloyd,
' His seal, engraved with his crest.

1828.I ORDINATION TO PRIESTHOOD. 6l
whose influence with the Government and the Primate
(Dr. Howley) was strongly used in his favour. His ordi
nation as Priest followed quickly, as ' the Hebrew Chair
was attached to a Canonry of Christ Church,' and he could
not take his place in the Cathedral, except as Priest.
The nine days between his appointment and ordination
he spent at Pusey ; his wife notes on Sunday, 16th, ' Edward
read prayers, and christened an infant' On the following
Saturday they both went to stay with Bishop Lloyd at
the Palace, Cuddesdon ; and on November 23, being the
twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity, Edward Bouverie Pusey
was ordained Priest by his friend in the little parish church
close to the Palace, no one else being ordained. The good
Bishop, and the three or four friends who were present
besides the village congregation, must have felt that the
holy office was bestowed on no ordinary man, but none
could then have anticipated the issues of that Ordination.
His first celebration of Holy Communion was on Christmas
Day, in the village church of Pusey, where he and his wife
had returned, to spend Christmas with his mother. ' Left
Pusey,' Mrs. Pusey wrote, January 12, 1829, 'and took up
our abode in our own house ' — the house which was to be
her husband's for nearly fifty-three years.
To the young Professor it was a natural and great
gratification to offer a home and position to his bride,
which could not but satisfy her mother's anxiety for her
ease and comfort, and which he must have felt he had won
for her by his own patient toil, since the appointment was
a recognition of his immense learning, rare in so young a
man, The large and airy apartments of his ' lodgings ' in
'the House,' the ample space and beautiful rooms, were

62 HOME LIFE.
a real help and refreshment to Dr. Pusey during the whole
of his studious life, besides providing sufficient wall-room
for his books, which already formed almost a library. He
once showed the writer how he had arranged his book
shelves, so as to take, he said, as little space as possible
from the area ofthe room.
Brief entries in Mrs. Pusey's journal give the every
day details of that happy life ; the visitors received,
amongst whom Mr. Newman was one of the most frequent ;
dinings out, guests at home, household duties. ' I have
been told,' her only surviving child writes, ' that when my
mother went to evening parties at this time, wearing black
velvet and pearls,1 it would have been difficult to find a
more beautiful woman.'
'Edward's first lecture' is the entry in her diary,
February 3, 1829. 'I am much more perplexed than is
at all pleasant just before the commencement of my
lectures,' he had written to Newman, January 11, in a
letter consulting him as to points in their construction,2
From this time to the end of his life, nothing save abso
lutely disabling illness was allowed to interfere with his
duties as Hebrew lecturer. When he died, at eighty-two
years of age, during the Long Vacation of 1882, he
was, as usual, reading for his lectures for the next Term.
1 She must have been still in mourning for her husband's father.
" In this letter, after thanking Mr. Newman for his opinion on the lectures
which had been submitted to him, he adds, ' It was always my own theory
that as little grammar as possible should be taught at first, i.e. until the
student is sufficiently familiar with the language to take interest in the
instances, etc., and the general structure of a language, so different from our
own.' ' Don't get a grammar,' was Archbishop Trench's advice to one about to
learn Spanish ; get a Spanish Testament, and learn the grammar back from
that.'

1829.] ARABIC CATALOGUE. 6$
Before the world he came forward mostly as the strenuous
exponent of forgotten truths; but the heavy burdens
gradually laid upon him never caused him to forget that
he was ' Her Majesty's Professor of Hebrew,' and that his
primary duty was to fulfil that office.
His professional duties would alone, probably, have been
easy to him, but neither home happiness nor social en
gagements caused relaxation in the hard work which he
felt to be a duty. Mrs. Pusey notes, November 24, 1828
(the day after her husband's ordination at Cuddeston),
' Returned to Pusey, having spent the greater part of the
day in Oxford.' He had used the time to search out all
his predecessor's, Dr. Nicoll's, papers, concerning a great
work on which the latter was engaged, a catalogue of the
Arabic manuscripts in the Bodleian Library, and Dr.
Liddon records that he set to work on them the very next
morning.1 The task, undertaken at Bishop Lloyd's advice,
was one of immense magnitude, the need for fresh research
revealing itself as it went on. Seven years of toil were
spent on this work. It is remarkable that hard labour of
the driest literary kind should, immediately after his ordina
tion, have fallen on him who had regretted that Oriental
languages should absorb so much time which he would fain
have given to directly spiritual studies. ' When engaged
on the Arabic Catalogue at the Bodleian, I have, as I rose
to the drudgery, envied the very bricklayers whom I saw
at work in the streets,' he wrote, eight years after the work
was finished.2 But his labours threw open to students a
• mass of literary wealth,' existing in a form which rendered
it practically inaccessible to them ; a wealth which Dr.
1 Life, i. p. 191. ' Ibid. i. p. 206.

64 CONTROVERSY WITH MR. ROSE.
Pusey thought of greatest importance for those to acquire
who undertook the defence of Holy Writ. To himself
the lengthened drudgery must have been a severe training
for the life of patient perseverance under every difficulty
and disappointment which lay before him.
Mr. Rose's attack, in 1829, on his book concerning
German theology brought additional labour. It is not sur
prising that Mr. Rose should have misunderstood the book,
or, as its writer complained, ' misstated every view which he
attacked as mine,' in a ' Letter to the Bishop of London,
in reply to Mr. Pusey's work,' etc. Mr. Rose thought
that his low estimate of the power of ' dead orthodoxy '
against unbelief was a slight on the importance of a
right system of belief, and also entirely misapprehended
his words as to the inspiration of Holy Scripture. Dr.
Pusey's first book thus brought against him the charge
of favouring Rationalism, although what he saw of it in
Germany had determined him to devote his life to combat
its advance. He replied to Mr. Rose by Part II. of his
'Theology in Germany,' published in 1830, for which he
received valuable suggestions from Bishop Blomfield, and
in which he explained and altered some things liable to
misapprehension. In the end, Mr. Rose and he came to
see that their aim was the same, and that, had they known
each other personally, the long discussion between them
would never have taken place. In a beautiful letter to Mr.
Rose (March, 1838), given at length in the ' Life,' Dr. Pusey
wrote : —
We ought to have been fighting side by side, instead of with
each other. ... I felt altogether with you, as to Rationalism
itself. I thought we differed about the causes and extent of it,

1829.I BISHOP LLOYD'S DEATH. 65
not, for a moment, as to its perniciousness and shallowness ; and
I feared people in England were verging towards it, in a way
which I thought you did not see. I feared lest cold, dry views
on the one hand, and especially a decayed Pietism on the other,
might find their parallel among us, and bring in Rationalism
here also.1
The death, in May, 1829, of Bishop Lloyd, his fatherly
friend, who had done so much to shape his life, was a great
sorrow to Dr. Pusey. They had just acted on the same
side in the contest as to Roman Catholic Emancipation in
Ireland ; Dr. Pusey by voting for Sir Robert Peel, who
brought in the Bill, in the contested election for the
University, and the Bishop by voting and speaking in
the House of Lords. In Dr. Liddon's opinion, Dr. Pusey
'had never a moment's hesitation in supporting Sir R.
Peel ; ' his ' political liberalism, as a young man,' having
'led him to take a warm interest in the Emancipation
question.' 2
'Second happy year begun,' Mrs. Pusey wrote, June 12,
1829, the anniversary of her wedding; 'July 8 — Mr.
Newman and John Keble called;' and, on 17th, 'Dear
baby (Lucy Maria Bouverie) born.' On August 14, she
noted, 'Churched in the Cathedral by dearest Edward.'
He also baptized their infant in Pusey Church.
'Third happy year begun,' June 12, 1830; on the 14th,
'My darling boy (Philip Edward) born;' and, July 25,
' Philip christened by his papa in the afternoon.'
All through these years the entries show the almost
continual hospitality exercised by Dr. Pusey, as always,
even after his home was left desolate, and which no amount
1 Life, i. pp. 167-9. s ^id. i. p. 199. F

66 HOME LIFE.
of occupation was allowed to hinder. Mrs. Pusey went
freely, at this time, into society ; ' Mr. Newman to dinner,'
and 'went to the ball,' are noted on the same day,
August 4, 1830.
A fresh source of happiness was added to her Christ
Church life by the engagement of Mr. Jelf (her husband's
' earliest and best friend ') to ' Emmy, Countess Schlippen-
bach,' lady-in-waiting to the Duchess of Cumberland,
whose charm seems to have quickly gained the Puseys'
hearts. Her face (one who knew her well writes) was bright, intellectual,
full of love and sweetness, and, above all, of heavenly expression.
Hers was a heart ever ready for prayer ; a countenance radiant,
not only with kindness and affection for her children, her friends,
and her poor people, but also with a reverent awe for the Divine
Presence. Mr. Jelfs appointment to a Canonry of Christ Church
was a great joy to Dr. Pusey ; the intimate friendship
between the two families, which continued to the end,
adding to the brightness of those early golden days.
The Puseys spent the latter part of the Long Vacation
of 1830 mostly at Tenby, returning home on September 30,
when the diary entries show the increasing and almost
daily intercourse with Mr. Newman. 'October 1 — Mr.
Newman called. 3rd — Mr. Newman and Mr. Froude to
dinner. 4th — Walked with Edward and Mr. Newman/
etc. But although he had now ' love's supporting force ' to
' cheat the toil and cheer the way,' the two years of hard,
unrelieved work at the Arabic Catalogue was more than
Dr. Pusey could bear, and a serious breaK-down of health

1831.] ILLNESS. 67
ensued. ' Edward poorly ; with him all day,' is the first
notice of his illness in his wife's diary on November 19.
They went to Hastings on December 15, and took up their
abode at 18, Pelham Crescent.
Even he, who had ever lived in communion with his
God, and with a single eye to His service, felt this time
of enforced leisure as a warning against the danger of
engrossing occupation in a good cause marring the pro
portions between outer work and the preparation of the
inner life —
Wouldst thou go forth to bless, be sure of thine own ground ;
Fix well thy centre first, then draw thy circles round.
His self-accusing sense of this duty is expressed at some
length in a letter to Newman, very touching in one whose
centre had been firmly fixed from childhood.1
Probably his leisure would have been hard work to
most. 'Transcribing for Edward,' is noted in his wife's
journal. 'Oh for the conclusion ofthe Catalogue, and the
time when my hands will be free,' he wrote to Newman
(March 17, 1831) ; 'but all in God's good time.' They
moved to St. Leonard's on March 4, and returned home
on April 14, 1831, after spending a week with Lady Lucy
in Grosvenor Square, where the diary records much
intercourse with friends, amongst others with 'Emmy
Jelf.' The Long Vacation was spent between Pusey and Christ
Church. Mrs. Pusey's diary notes (September 5), 'Mr.
Gladstone to dinner.' There is no entry of special interest
until 'January 8, 1832, Darling baby (Catherine Emmy)
1 On this letter is written by Cardinal Newman, ' Pusey was well enough
to leave Oxford, December II, 1830; he was taken ill November 19, 1830.'

68 LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY.
born. January 22 — Received the Sacrament at home
from dear Edward. February 1 — Dearest Edward went
to Pusey. Miss Newman came.' He had been obliged to
leave her in order to help Lady Lucy through some difficult
business, and writes to her the next day from Pusey, where
their children were staying. February 2, 1832.
Yesterday must, I fear, have been a sad, heavy day,
to judge of your frame of mind, by what mine was whenever
a pause in my employment of cheering our dear mother left me
to my own thoughts. Yet I trusted it had pleased God to bless
you, and that you had some share of the reward for your sacrifice
for His sake, although we must not expect it very fully at first,
otherwise there would be no such thing as sacrifice at all. . . .
This place is beautifully warm ; I am playing no pranks, but with
Puss,1 and without a great coat I walked round the garden before
breakfast this morning, and the beautiful pure snowdrops are in
blow all round it. It is quite summer. February 3, 1832.
It seems so strange that within twelve and a half little
miles I do not yet know, by sympathy or any other means, how
oneself passed either of the last two nights, ... yet this I do
know, that she is under our Father's care, and His keeping is
better than ours, love. Me He has kept blessedly ; and I think
I shall be all the better for this change, though nothing but the
hope of being useful to our dear mother would have induced me
to try it. . . . For myself, having some business with Cotton a
about churches, I mounted Redmond, and thought how bliss
fully days were changed since I used to urge him up Faringdon
Hill, for the happiest moment in the twenty-four hours, even
though I was not to see you the livelong day.8 . . . Then I
1 Lucy,
2 Vicar of Denchurch, his future brother-in-law.
* Fairford, Mrs. Pusey's old home, could be seen from Faringdon Hill,

1832.] CONSECRATION OF GROVE CHURCH. 6g
•returned to dear mama : at three we took a walk together, dined
at five, talked and played with little ones from six to seven. . . .
I have read the Psalms for both days in my own little Hebrew
Bible, and thought of you all the time and what you would make
of them, or what you would be puzzled with ; and then, this not
being very profitable for myself, read them over again for
myself. . . . This letter has been interrupted in diverse ways,
by reading, teaching Loo to play at nine-pins, and walking with
dear mama to the temple to cool/1 The white crocuses all but
in blow, the yellow showing for blow, the pyrus full of red buds,
and one flower, a ranunculus, in blow, as there was also at
Cotton's ; heart's-ease which have escaped the winter, etc., etc.,
etc. ; in short, were you here, a Paradise.
I know not, dearest wife, how to thank you for all your heart's
love and kindness, or how to be grateful for having you confided
to me. God bless you in all your plans for the future, and make
me instrumental in forwarding [them].
Mrs. Pusey's diary records: 'February 12 — To St
Mary's ; churched by Mr. Newman. Mr. Newman to
dinner. February 24 — Baby christened at St Mary's
by Mr. Newman — -Catherine Emmy. The Newmans to
lunch.' April was spent at Brighton, where various rides are
recorded, Mrs. Pusey being a good horse-woman. On
May 2 she writes : ' Said farewell to the chain pier with
Edward,' and in his hand are added the words, ' Felt
myself very blessed.' ' Grove Church consecrated by the
Bishop of Sarum. E. preached " an eloquent and impres
sive discourse," ' she notes, August 14, 1832. 'It extracted
£71, and was "ordered to be printed,"' Dr. Pusey wrote
1 A Greek temple on the south-west side of the house ... in which
Edward Bouverie Pusey and his brother, when little boys, used to play on
wet days.

70 PAMPHLET ON CATHEDRALS.
to Dr. Newman of this first of his published sermons.1
Grove was ' a poor hamlet of Wantage,' and he appears to
have heartily aided the efforts of his future brother-in-law,
Mr. Cotton, Vicar of Denchurch, a neighbouring parish, to
provide for it spiritually; for the Rev. John Davison, of
Worcester, writes, many months later, to Dr. Pusey : —
It is quite delightful to know the history of the proceedings
of Grove, and see the success of those efforts which have built
your village church there, and made that village become some
thing like a capital to your little Decapolis. . . .
That I may refer to your improved system of education for
the ministerial office : — it has always struck me as one of the
most ill-advised measures of the University to have given up that
most valuable period of the life of our young members which
immediately follows the first degree; so many noble purposes
both of direction and improvement might have been served by it
under the auspices of a wise academical discipline fitted to
that age.
The latter part of the above letter alludes to a very
important pamphlet which occupied Dr. Pusey during the
autumn of 1832 — 'Remarks on the Prospective and Past
Benefits of Cathedral Institutions.' It was written in reply
to one by Lord Henley, proposing various reforms in
Cathedral institutions, with a view to their being carried
out by the first Reformed Parliament in 1833; and he
took occasion, while vindicating the claim of these institu-
1 In a letter to Newman, July 13, 1832, Dr. Pusey begs him to send
him certain books from the Oriel Library to help him in preparing for this
sermon, and 'any other book which might contain any illustrations of
the early interest of Christians about churches, etc' You are the more
bound to assist me (he wrote) because Cotton was about to apply to you,
and only seized upon me because I was present, and so could less elude his
grasp, and should like you to tell me what you think a consecration sermon
ought to be, which is also to be a collecting sermon.

1832.] DEATH OF INFANT CHILD. Jl
tions to have been ' nurseries of most of our chief divines,
who were the glory of our English name,' to suggest how
valuable they might become if connected with theological
teaching of candidates for Orders.
He must have been gratified at its reception. The
Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Howley) wrote to him,
May 5, 1833 :—
I lose no time in thanking you for your publication on
Cathedrals. I have read it with much satisfaction, and even if I
saw less to approve in it than I do, I should be pleased with the
attempt to draw the attention of the public to a subject on which
many persons are ready to come to a decision without thought or
inquiry. The Bishop of Durham (Dr. Maltby) also wrote,
thanking him warmly for h?s 'valuable pamphlet' on
Cathedral Institutions, adding —
That they might, nevertheless, be rendered more ostensibly
and, perhaps, more really beneficial to the public, by rendering
them, to a certain extent, auxiliary to clerical education, I have
often been inclined to think.1
The first sorrow in the happy home at Christ Church
was the death of the infant, Catherine, born in January of
the previous year.
'Edward preached his first University sermon,' the
diary notes, October 14. ' November 6 — Dearest baby ill
(Catherine), and at one o'clock on 7th, taken away to God
and happiness. 9th — Catherine's earthly remains laid to
rest in the Cathedral' — the first to be laid in that grave
1 If of late years Theological Colleges have been attached to Cathedrals,
and if the study of theology has been promoted at such centres and elsewhere
by a division of labour, these results are originally due to Pusey's pamphlet.—
Life, i. p. 235.

72 TOUR IN HAMPSHIRE.
where her father now rests with her mother and sister.
He took the bereavement deeply to heart, turning
inwardly, after his wont, to accuse himself of needing
chastisement. Writing to his wife, then in the Isle of
Wight, on the anniversary of their loss three years later,
he says: 'I pray God, and you will also pray, dearest,
that this day, and all memory of our dear little sainted
one, may produce its fruits of humiliation and humble-
walking in me. I trust, dearest, that this expression of
feeling will not unduly distress you ; God has been abun
dantly merciful in what He has done for our others ; and,
therefore, we may feel that in this also He took her not
away in displeasure to us, but as a merciful correction,
although still as a correction.'
Mrs. Pusey's diary chronicles their spending Christmas
at Holton ; and a tour in their own carriage through
Hampshire in the spring of 1833, leaving Oxford on
March 25, and driving, by Newbury to Burghclere, where
they stayed for two nights, and, she writes, ' drove through
Highclere Park. Left Burghclere ; through Whitchurch to
Kingsworthy, where we baited our horses ; through Win
chester to Southampton — took up our abode at Weeks'
Hotel' The next day, March 28, she notes : ' Began
"Butler's Analogy" with Edward ; went in a sailing boat to
see the ruins of Netley Abbey.' Many drives in the New
Forest are chronicled : Dr. Pusey was very fond of driving
his own horses ; and this time was evidently one of rest
from work. They spent .Easter at Southampton, returning
to Oxford on April 12.1 April 20— 'Went over to Holton
Park ' — the manor house, near Wheatley, which Lady Lucy
» The diary notes : ' April 5— Good Friday, received the Sacrament.'

1833I 'TRACTS FOR THE TIMES' BEGUN. 73
Pusey had taken. She had lived, since her widowhood in
1828, until this time, at Pusey, when not at her house in
Grosvenor Square.
On May 3 is recorded the birth of Pusey's youngest
child ; and, June 4, ' Baby christened (Mary Amelia) in
the Cathedral by her dear papa.'
The families at Pusey, Christ Church, and Holton
Park, seem to have lived in frequent intercourse : ' Lady
Lucy came over,' ' Went to Holton Park,' ' Mr. Pusey to
dinner,' etc., etc., being constantly recorded.
On August 3, the Edward Puseys moved to Holton
for the rest of the Long Vacation, returning home on
October 28.1
There he found the ' Tracts for the Times ' begun, and,
before Christmas, gave to them his first contribution. At
this time there is a striking change in the entries in Mrs.
Pusey's diary ; ' Visiting the poor' occurring very frequently,
and notes of social engagements much seldomer. There
are also traces of her beginning to help her husband in
literary-religious work ; ' Extracts of letters from Ignatius,
writing from Jeremy Taylor,' being noted for December
29. 1833. It may be that this year, so pregnant with
the first beginnings of events 'which her husband was
largely to direct, and mould for the rest of his life, could
not pass without her feeling the influence of the solemn
thoughts and aspirations which were in the air, and amidst
which she lived.
1 Every morning in the week he rode into Oxford, reaching the Bodleian
Library at nine o'clock, and working there until it closed, when he rode out
again to Holton. Late in life he would often refer to these early morning
rides, in which the fresh air of 'Shotover made it so easy to praise
Almighty God,' as one of the happy memories of his earlier years, — Life,
i, 276.

CHAPTER IV.
THE EARLY TRACTARIANS.
1833—1835.
Spirits are not finely touched
But to fine issues. Measure for Measure.
The history of the Tractarians and of their work has been
recorded by the late Dean Church, by Cardinal Newman,
up to a certain point, in his ' Apologia,' and by Dr. Liddon,
the greater part of his ' Life of Edward Bouverie Pusey '
being the history of the Oxford Movement. So many
contributions have also been made to it, and side-lights
cast upon it by other books, such as the ' Letters and Corre
spondence of J. H. Newman,' the ' Autobiography of Isaac
Williams,' and Mr. Ward's 'Life,' that another sketch of
that great revival of religious faith is as needless as it
would be unfitting for the present writer to attempt. To
the calm and passionless narrative of Dr. Liddon, related
with a delicate sense of proportions and mastery of details
to which few could have attained, students will ever turn
to obtain clear, and often documentary, information con
cerning the history of the Church in England during her
half-century of struggles, perils, changes, and blessings from
1833 to 1883. Dr. Liddon has touched rapidly, but with

1833.] FOREFATHERS OF THE TRACTARIANS. 75
vivid colours, on the various elements which combined to
make men feel, early in this century, the absolute need of
' a clear, strong, positive religious creed, if civilization was
to be saved from ruin,' and on the tokens and expression
of this feeling in such men as Chateaubriand, Sir Walter
Scott, Coleridge, and the Wesleys, strong to turn the
hearts of the children to their fathers — leaders in lines of
thought which the ' Tracts for the Times ' developed and
popularized. There had, however, always been a small body of men
in the English Church, fervent in that personal religion
which the early Evangelicals did so much to kindle,
and who, in their teaching concerning the needs and salva
tion of the believer, never lost sight of the importance of
holding fast to the whole revelation of the Saviour of the
world. Of these Dr. Liddon commemorates the names of a
few, as having always held definite Catholic doctrine, such
as Mr. Keble of Fairford (father of the author of the ' Chris
tian Year') ; Joshua Watson, a layman ; the Rev. H. Norris,
Rector of Hackney, and Mr. Alexander Knox, an Irish
layman, enthusiastic for the Prayer-book as the exponent
of Catholic theology.1
But there was one, Dr. T. Sikes, who had graduated at
Oxford in 1788, the pastor of a little parish in North
amptonshire, whose estimate of the then state of religious
belief in England, and forecast of what was coming, is so
remarkable, that the following extract must be given from
¦ * • His language about the Eucharist, if here and there slightly inaccurate,
is, as a whole, very remarkable,: considering the age in which he lived.'
— Life, i. p. 261.

?6 DR. SIKES.
Dr. Pusey's ' Letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury,'
published in 1842. Dr. Pusey quotes in this letter Dr.
Sikes' words to one who had known and conversed with
him, and who reported them to Dr. Pusey: —
I well remember the very countenance, gesture, attitude, and
tone of good Mr. Sikes, and give you, as near as may be, what he
said. ' I seem to think I can tell you something which you who are
young may probably live to see, but which I, who shall soon be
called away off the stage, shall not. Wherever I go all about the
country I see amongst the clergy a number of very amiable and
estimable men, many of them much in earnest, and wishing to do
good. But I have observed one universal want in their teaching,
the uniform suppression of one great truth. There is no account
given anywhere, so far as I see, of the one Holy Catholic Church.
I think that the causes of this suppression have been mainly two.
The Church has been kept out of sight, partly in consequence of
the civil establishment of the branch of it which is in this country,
and partly out of false charity to Dissent. Now, this great truth
is an article of the Creed, and, if so, to teach the rest ofthe Creed
to its exclusion must be to destroy " the analogy or proportion of
the faith," ttjv avaXoyiav rijs Trurrem. This cannot be done without
the most serious consequences. The doctrine is of the last im
portance and the principles it involves of immense power, and
some day. not far distant, it will judicially have its reprisals. And
whereas the other articles of the Creed seem now to have thrown
it into the shade, it will seem, when it is brought forward, to
swallow up the rest. We now hear not a breath about the Church ;
by-and-by, those who live to see it will hear of nothing else,
and just in proportion perhaps to its present suppression will be
its future development. Our confusion nowadays is chiefly owing
to the want of it, and there will be yet more confusion attending
its revival. The effects of it I even dread to contemplate, especi
ally if it come suddenly. And woe betide those, whoever they
are, who shall, in the course of Providence, have to bring it
forward. It ought, especially of all others, to be matter of

J833-1 MR. KEBLE'S SERMON. J1?
catechetical teaching and training. The doctrine of the Church
Catholic and the privileges of Church Membership cannot be
explained from pulpits ; and those who will have to explain it
will hardly know where they are, or which way they are to turn
themselves. They will be endlessly misunderstood and mis
interpreted. There will be one great outcry of Popery from one
end of the country to the other. It will be thrust upon minds
unprepared and on an uncatechized Church. Some will take it
up and admire it as a beautiful picture ; others will be frightened,
and run away and reject it ; and all will want a guidance which
one hardly knows where they shall find. How the doctrine may
be first thrown forward we know not, but the powers of the
world may any day turn their backs upon us, and this will
probably lead to those effects I have described.'
Dr. Pusey was not at first a leader amongst the Trac
tarians. His wife's journal, in 1832, shows how greatly
their intimacy with the Newman family had increased ; but
Mr. Newman was abroad for six months during the winter
and spring of 1832-3, and did not return to England until
July 9, 1833, the Tuesday before Mr. Keble preached the
Assize Sermon in the University pulpit at Oxford, on
that Sunday, July 14th, which Dr. Newman says he ever
considered and kept as the start of the religious movement
of 1833. When I got home from abroad (he continues) I found that
already a movement had commenced in opposition to the specific
danger which at that time was threatening the religion of the
nation and its Church. Several zealous and able men had united
their councils, and were in correspondence with each other. The
principal of these were Mr. Keble, Hurrell Froude, who had
reached home long before me; Mr. William Palmer, of Dublin
and Worcester College ; Mr. Arthur Perceval, and Mr. Hugh Rose,1
1 Apologia pro Vita Sua (ed. 1873), pp. 36, 37.

78 CONFERENCE AT HADLEIGII.
Dr. Pusey was not invited to the historic meeting at
Hadleigh Vicarage, in Suffolk, where Mr. Hugh Rose
had asked a few, whose hearts were stirred, to spend some
days for conference as to the possibility of spreading
principles which seemed forgotten. The determination to
write and disseminate ' Tracts for the Times ' arose from
this conference.
On August 14, 1833, Hurrell Froude wrote to the Rev.
Hon. Arthur Perceval : —
The impression left on my mind after my visit to Rose was on
the whole a gloomy one, i.e. that in the present state of the country
we have very poor materials to work upon among the clergy and
laity ; and that the only thing to be done is to direct all our efforts
to the dissemination of better principles. . . . Does any plan strike
you on which we could organize arrangements for the wide publi
cation of tracts on such subjects ?
Could we not, by means of our friends and our friends' friends,
contrive railroads and canals for the diffusion of apostolical know
ledge ?
We mean to have the Epistle of St. Ignatius printed very cheap;
perhaps on handbills, with woodcuts of his martyrdom on the top,
and the parts about Bishops printed in capitals, perhaps in red
letters. But this will be of little use if we cannot circulate them
widely. As to the clergy, perhaps the British Magazine is the
best way of getting at them.
But we may do much by writing on the subjects aforesaid to
all our friends, insisting much on their importance, and getting
them to do the same.
Cardinal Newman's words in his 'Apologia' are well
known, as to the value of Dr. Pusey's co-operation with
him, and yet it is impossible wholly to omit them : —
I had known him well, . . . and felt for him an enthusiastic
admiration. I used to call him 6 /xeyas.

1833-1 NEWMAN'S INFLUENCE. 79
His great learning, his immense diligence, his scholarlike
mind, his simple devotion to the cause of religion, overcame-me ;
and great of course was my joy when, in the last days of 1833, he
showed a disposition to make common cause with us. . . . 'He
at once gave to us a position and a name. . . .' Dr. Pusey was
a Professor and Canon of Christ Church ; he had a vast influence
in consequence of his deep religious seriousness, the munificence
of his charities^ his Professorship, his family connections, and his
easy relations with University authorities. . . .
Dr. Pusey was, to use the common expression, a host in himself;
he was able to give a name, a form, and a personality to what
was without him a sort of mob. He was a man of large designs ;
he had a hopeful, sanguine mind ; he had no fear of others ; he
was haunted by no intellectual perplexities.1
'As far as I know,' Cardinal Newman has told us, 'he
who turned the tide, and brought the talent of the Uni
versity round to the side of the old theology . . . was
Mr. Keble.'2 But Mr. Keble was not at Oxford, and on
more than one occasion he and Dr. Pusey had taken
opposite sides. It was Newman who drew in his friend
to work for the Tractarians, a work of which the weight
on him increased till it more than once brought him near
to death. Of the ninety Tracts, however, he wrote only
seven, and seventeen had been published before he was
persuaded to contribute to the series.
Pusey's presence (the Rev. Isaac Williams says in his auto
biography) always checked Newman's lighter and unrestrained
mood; and I was myself silenced by so awful a person. Yet I
always found in him something most congenial to myself; a
nameless something which was wanting even in Newman, and
I might, perhaps, add, even in Keble himself. But Pusey was at
1 Apologia pro Vita Sua (ed. 1873), PP- 61, 62.
5 Ibid. p. 289.

80 DR. PUSEY'S FIRST TRACT.
this time not one of us, and I have some recollection of a conver
sation which was the occasion of his joining us. He said, smiling
to Newman, wrapping his gown round him as he used to do, ' I
think you are too hard on the Peculiars,1 as you call them. You
should conciliate them ; I am thinking of writing a letter myself with
that purpose.' ' Well ! ' said Newman, ' suppose you let us have
it for one of the Tracts ! ' ' Oh, no,' said Pusey, ' I will not be
one of you ! ' This was said in a playful manner ; and before we
parted Newman said, ' Suppose you let us have that letter of yours
which you intend writing, and attach your name or signature to
it. You would then not be mixed up with us, nor in any way
responsible for the Tracts ! ' ' Well,' Pusey said at last, ' if you
will let me do that, I will.' It was this circumstance of Pusey
attaching his initials to that tract which furnished the Record and
the Low Church party with his name, which they at once attached
to us all.2
Dr. Pusey himself relates, in a letter written to Newman
in 1 864, his attitude of mind as regarded the Tracts.
I have read the four first parts of your answer to Kingsley. . . .
I know that you would speak of me with only too much love. If
my own memory does not fail me, I think that you did not know
why I was not sooner joined in the movement. I think that it
was on account of my unhappy relations with Rose, that I only
heard very distantly of the meetings, nor do I think that I knew
distinctly what you were doing, till you had begun. ... I re
member, as I write, that there was a time when I doubted whether
I could not best aid the plan by separate action with the same
end. . . . You will have seen, perhaps, how the Rationalists are
fond of hinting that I at one time held, in principle, what they
do ; and I thought that perhaps your account of my joining you
rather later, after all the rest were associated, might be construed
as supporting this. But though certainly I did not join the pre
parations, because I was not asked, yet, when the Tracts were
begun, and the party took an organized shape, I do recollect
1 The so-called ' Evangelicals.'
* Autobiography of Isaac Williams, pp. 70-72,

1834-1 TRACT ON FASTING. 8 1
thinking how I should do most good— identified with it, or along
side of it.
On December 21, 1833, a little more than three months
after the first issue of the Tracts, No. 18, on Fasting, ap
peared.1 The Catalogue of Arabic manuscripts was not nearly
completed when Dr. Pusey joined the Tractarians, and his
health again gave way under the double strain ; especially
as his ' Tracts,' instead of according with Newman's first
notion, that ' a tract would be long enough if it filled four
octavo pages,' were long and learned pamphlets. Un
fortunately Mrs. Pusey's journal for 1834-5, and part of
1836, is missing, and we have not her record of the severe
illness which, in January, 1834, forced him to give up
his lectures (which his wife notes that he had begun on
October 24, 1833), and to obey his doctor's orders to
leave Oxford. He wrote, shortly before leaving home, to
Newman that —
From one very valuable person of the old school I have
already heard that it is a great defect in my Tract, that I have said
so much about the Fathers, and so little about the Scripture, and
' no one counts anything of the Fathers ; they were but mere men.'
Much of this, I suppose, one shall hear ; and also, which I was not
prepared for, people questioning, even in the abstract, the duty of
fasting: whereas I thought serious-minded persons at least sup
posed they practised fasting in some way or other. I assumed the
duty to be acknowledged, and thought it only undervalued You
will be glad to hear that I am already much better.
1 Of a sermon preached for the Salisbury Infirmary shortly before the
publication of Tract 18, in which Dr. Pusey had spoken of fasting as a means
of spiritual improvement, Mr. Hussey, one of the best laymen in Salisbury,
used to say that he never heard anything like it ; ' all later sermons on the
subject seemed, by comparison, shallow and pointless.'— Life, i. p. 276.
G

S3 SPRING IN ISLE OF WIGHT.
Ch. Ch., Feb. 4, 1834.
I should have been truly glad to have seen you, but
hope that perfect quiet may, by God's blessing, be the best means
of subduing my cough. It is, however, thanks be to Him, of very
little discomfort, except that it interferes with lecturing ; but, as
He wills. February 24, 1834.
I wish much to talk with you about many things.;
specially about the Sacrament of Baptism. Men used to be taught
that it is a Sacrament, and that a Sacrament is not merely an out
ward badge of a Christian man's profession ; and all union must, I
think, be hollow which does hot involve agreement in principles,
at least as to the Sacraments. Great good, also, would be done
by showing the true doctrine of baptism in its warmth and life,
whereas the Low Church think it essentially cold. Could npt
this be done, avoiding technical terms ? I know nothing or little
as to the reception such a tract would meet with, but you
have to decide whether holding back is Christian prudence' or
compromise. They went to Ventnor on February 25. He wrote
in April of having there spent 'time in most delightful
seclusion, and at Niton, in the south of the Isle of Wight ;
scarcely hearing an echo, every now and then, of what is
going on in the world,' but he did not gain much in health
until April began, and writes of illness and weakness
making him —
think that God does not intend me to do anything actively on a
large scale ... for His Church ; and that since I have been over-
fond of activity, i.e. intellectual activity, while I thought that His
glory was more my object than it was, so now my chastisement
will be that I shall be allowed to do nothing. ... If I am to do
nothing which appears lasting, it is because, as things are, it must
be better for the Church that I should not.

1834.I RETURN TO OXFORD. 83
This forecast, so different from what the future was to
unfold, seemed only too much justified by his great bodily
fragility at this time; more than two years previously
Mrs. Pusey had noted (June 24, 1831), 'Edward weighed,
9 stone 2 lb.,' and now his mother observed that he ' con
tinued to lose in weight ; and he could not afford to do
this, being only 8 stone 9 lb. as it was.' 2
He returned, however, to Oxford in the middle of
April, and was soon in the full tide of work, remaining at
Christ Church till August, when he was sent to Ramsgate,
and completing, to his great relief, the Catalogue of Arabic
manuscripts in the Bodleian. To his wife, who had left
him for a few days' visit to Lady Lucy in London, he
wrote (April 29) —
I have been very well employed, although very idle, and in the
midst of my employment thought on you and pitied you for your
long journey, in which you had so much more time to dwell upon our
separation. ... It seems as if I could never write often enough,
God bless you ; but it is thought far oftener than it could be written.
SS. Philip and James ? [May 1] 1834.
At eight, Saints' day, prayers; at 12, committee meet
ing ; two o'clock, public meeting, so that to-morrow is pretty well
occupied, and if the evening brings me my Mia, how happily will
it close; but we must prefer others to self; and we are, God be
blessed, but one self.
I am afraid of saying anything ; afraid to say how much I love
to have you here, lest you should hurry when you had better
stay. ... If I am to write all my thoughts of you, I should make
no end ; but I must write letters and correct Scripture History.
During the Commemoration week, June, 1834, when
the installation of the Duke of Wellington as Chancellor
1 Life, i. p. 296.

84 LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY.
of the University took place, Mrs. Pusey, not being well,
went to stay with Lady Lucy at Holton Park.
Monday, June 10.
Joy, joy ! The Duke held a ,levee this morning, to
which I went, and so I believe there is no occasion for my setting
foot in this place on Thursday. The two levees were somewhat
fatiguing, but I am now in good plight again. . . . Great regrets
expressed that you are so unwell. I am not going to have the
Duke of C[umberland] ; I fear that it may look like ingratitude,
but am, on the whole, glad.
Your dear (note has just been brought me (12 o'clock). God
bless you for it and all your dear love. ... I have scarcely seen
Henry alone,1 having Ashley and Sir T. Acland at breakfast.
Now I am quite alone, and so feel, in a manner, restored to you ;
only, since I have nothing to do here, it seems so much the more
pitiable that I sit in my solitary study united to you in mind only.
However, the atmosphere seems to breathe of you, and in my
solitude I can bless you, as I do from the ground of my heart.
Kiss and bless the dear children for me, whom I thought of,
although I could not see them. Ch. Ch., June 11.
(Six years all but twenty hours, God be thanked.) a
I can write only a few lines, having been talking all the
morning, until now, when my note must go. I am not sure that
I may not be called back to Oxford upon one day, in case the
Primate of Ireland receives those who wish to show their interest
in the poor Irish Church ; but I have declined an invitation at
All Souls (not having you here to make me accept it) for Friday,
so that I am now free. A few hours more and I trust to be
with you.
In his old age he spoke of this Installation of the
1 The Rev. Henry Barker (later Canon of Gloucester), Mrs. Pusey's nephew (
but about her own age, and her most devoted and brotherly friend,
2 June 12 was his wedding-day.

1S34-] INSTALLATION OF DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 85
Duke of Wellington, and mentioned how much he was
struck by the appearance and bearing of the Primate
Archbishop of Armagh. He said that amongst all the
crowd of nobles and great men present, 'Archbishop
Beresford recalled the description of Saul, higher than
any of the people from his shoulders and upward.' l
Dr. Pusey's great admiration for personal beauty must
often have been observed by his intimate friends ; and he
could never be attracted by it without coveting that gift
for some special service to his Lord. The writer once
heard him say to a young girl : ' You must remember that
a beautiful mind in a beautiful body is a great instrument
of His grace;' and thought on hearing it that surely no
more graceful compliment had ever been united with a
weightier lesson.
From November, 1834, until May, 1835, Dr. Pusey was
anxiously occupied in resisting (successfully for the time)
the proposal to alter the terms of subscription required
from undergraduates at Oxford, a question raised chiefly
through the influence of Dr. Hampden.8 Amongst letters
preserved are sixty-four from absent members of the Uni
versity, to whom he had written urging them to come up
to vote against the proposed change in Convocation, on
May 20, 1835, and enclosing a leaflet of 'Questions'
written by himself on the subject. With one or two
1 No such assembly of distingushed men had been welcomed by the Uni
versity within its walls since the visit of the 'Allied Sovereigns ' in 1815. At
the head of a long line of noblemen, and of eleven bishops, was the King's
brother, the Duke of Cumberland. His Royal Highness was the guest of
Dr. Jelf, who had been for so long his son's tutor, and who was now Canon
of Christ Church. It had been at first proposed that the Duke should stay
with Pusey.— Life, i. p. 295.
9 There is a detailed account of this affair in the Life, i. chap. xiii.

86 OPPOSITION TO CHANGES.
exceptions, all replied in warm terms of admiration for the
leaflet, and promising to come, if possible. A bundle of
papers and notes also remains, dated after May 26, 1835,
from friends at thirteen Colleges (and St. Alban's Hall) in
answer to Dr. Pusey's inquiries as to the number of placets
and non-placets from each, given in Convocation. One note
from ' W. K. Hamilton,' afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, to
the Rev. B. Plarrison, records his having voted against him.
Denison and I were the only two resident Fellows who voted
for the Declaration.1 . . . You will find that many did not attend
the Convocation who are anxious, as Gladstone is, for the removal
of all tests at matriculation.
The Rev. G. Moberly, who succeeded Bishop Hamilton
at Salisbury, replied that there were no neutrals, nor placets,
at Balliol, and gave eighteen names, his own amongst them,
of those who had voted against the Declaration. Thus'the
two future Bishops of Salisbury were opposed on this
important question, concerning which Dr. Pusey appears
to have fought with a strength of purpose and expression
which recalls Dr. Newman's words long after, ' Excuse me,
you discharge it (the "olive branch" of the Eirenicon)
from a catapult' Dr. Hawkins, the Provost of Oriel,
who did not agree with him, writes to him, half-playfully,
May 15, 1835 : —
So you venture to make the writer of the ' Answers ' to be the
author of the letter to Lord R. and to make me the author of
both ! Moreover, you venture to run the risk of an action for
damages by stopping the sale of a valuable work ! However, I
hope the writer will neither prosecute you nor answer you. . . .
1 I.e. in favour of a change; a 'Declaration' being proposed for sub-
scription, instead of the Thirty-nine Articles.

1835-1 TRACTS ON BAPTISM, 87
In short, I cannot see, my dear P., that you are yet going into
the subject fairly and dispassionately.
Another younger man, to whom he must have written
strongly on some points of difference, replied : —
... I have just read over your note again. I will try to
profit by it ; but pray do, my dear Dr. Pusey, before you reprove
any friend again, endeavour to express yourself in more conciliatory
language. I can assure you, you have written what in most cases
flesh and blood could not bear. To irritate and mortify is not
always to mend. If you were to reconsider your note a week
hence I am sure you would be satisfied that it was not likely to
effect its object.
Perhaps there was not in him at this time as much of
the benignity which in later years tempered reproof ; but,
to the end, it was his nature to feel and to write strongly.
The Arabic Catalogue work having been finally com
pleted by its Latin preface in April, 1835, he was free,
after seven years of drudgery, to spend time and labour
in the cause which more and more occupied him, as he
became increasingly convinced that the very existence
of the Church and of religion in England was in grave
peril, and that it was necessary that the standard of the
well-nigh forgotten faith of ancient Christendom should
be again set up amongst us. His letter to Mr. Newman of
February 24 1 shows that his thoughts were occupied with
the first foundation which must be laid, and his three great
Tracts on Baptism (Nos. 67, 68, and 69 of ' Tracts for the
Times ') appeared between August and October, 1835.
The first is noticed by Newman in a letter to Hurrell
Froude (August 9). ' The Tracts are defunct, or in extremis.
1 See p. 82.

88 LETTER TO NEWMAN.
Rivington has written to say they do not answer. Pusey
has written one on Baptism, very good, of ninety pages,
which is to be printed at his risk.' *
E. B. P. to Rev. J. H. Newman.
Brighton, October 21, 1835.
In patience possess ye your souls ; I had hoped that
we might have had one term of peace, but it seems that we are not
to see it in our days, and the refreshment of a long vacation is
a great blessing. . . .
Rivington will have the rest of the tract, he says, printed
shortly : and I have sent up what additional notes I could. . . .
However, since some of the notes are actually sent up, they may
well be dated ' St. Simon and St. Jude.' Anderson told me that he
was induced to read the first part of my Tract on Baptism by
seeing it dated ' St. Bartholomew.' ' Well, at least these men act
upon what they say,' was the shape in which the date influenced
him. With regard to the Tracts, what is to be their subject?
The popish controversy, or miscellaneous, as now ? Are they to
be long or short ? Elaborate or, again, some of all kinds ? What
are our ' centres ' to do — to circulate the Tracts themselves or to
be responsible for any loss to the booksellers ? In a word, is it
money, or pains and influence which are needed ? . . .
My Tract is swelling in dimensions : you will not think that I
compare all that I can write to one fragment of J. K.'s ; but it
struck me that, if the second volume of the ' Tracts ' should
exceed the due dimensions, it might perhaps be a good plan to
bind up my Tract, partly as Part II. or Volume II. of ' Tracts,' and
again with a separate title-page, with my name as ' Pusey on
Baptism,' with a short preface, saying, in a few words, why I wrote
it, and why also as a ' Tract for the Times.' I say this on account
of the subject, not of myself. My Tract and notes will probably
come to 250 pages. Best of all I should like to see our triple
cord restored, ' Keble, Newman, Pusey on Baptism.'
1 Letters of J. H. Newman, ii. p. 124,

1836.I THE TRACTS RE INVIGORATED. 89
Dr. Pusey gave a fresh start to ' Tracts for the Times.'
' It was through him that the character of the Tracts was
changed,' Dr. Newman says in his 'Apologia'1 ... 'his
elaborate treatise on Baptism was followed by other Tracts
from different authors, if not of equal learning, yet of equal
power and appositeness.' 2
I am almost persuaded to continue the Tracts (Newman wrote
to him, January 6, 1836). Rivington writes me word this morning
that the first volume is steadily selling, and the second expected,
and that he wants some more reprints. Again, I hear the Record,
in summing up the events of the last year, laments the growth of
High Church principles among those of whom they had hoped
better things.
Dr. Pusey brought at once to the front the question of
Sacramental power. He threw himself into that fort on
the battlefield against Rationalism, which he saw must be
held, like Hougoumont at Waterloo, at all costs, as the
key of the Catholic position, and around which the contest
has ever since raged most fiercely. Mr. F. D. Maurice,
while entirely opposed to the teaching of the Tract, per
ceived at once that it marked a turning-point in the
coming struggle.3
It would be out of place, in this memoir, to attempt
1 Pages 62, 63, ed. 1 87 3.
2 Dr. Pusey's Tract on Baptism was unquestionably the work in virtue of
which he took his place among the leaders of the Oxford Movement. — Life, i.
P- 343- 3 The Sacraments are with us now ; each time that they are administered
they challenge a verdict as to their precise worth and power. ... It was clear
to Pusey that if the solvents which were applied by Zwingli to those great texts
of Scripture which teach sacramental grace were also applied to those other
texts which teach the Divinity and Atonement of our Lord, the result would
be Socinianism. — Life, i. pp. 344-8.

90 RECEPTION OF THE TRACT.
any re'sume' of this great treatise, which, in the edition of
1839, had been enlarged by Dr. Pusey from its original
49 pages to 400. A masterly outline of its chief argument
is given in the first volume of the ' Life,' a where the Tract
itself is said to be 'even after fifty intervening years of
controversy well worth reading.' It came as a trumpet-
blast, not lightly blown, but from one conscious of the
reserved forces at his command.
He knew (to use Dean Church's words) the meaning of real
learning. In controversy it was his sledge-hammer and battle-
mace, and he had the strong and sinewy hand to use it with effect.
He observed that when attention had been roused to the ancient
doctrines of the Church by the startling and peremptory tone of
the earlier Tracts, fairness and justice demanded that these
doctrines should be fully and carefully explained and defended
against misrepresentation and mistake. Forgetfulness and ignor
ance had thrown these doctrines so completely into the shade
that, identified as they were with the best English divinity, they
now wore the air of amazing novelties.2
The Tract roused strong denunciation, as well as ad
miration. 'The Edinburgh is preparing an attack,' Dr.
Newman writes in January, 1836, and the Rev. W. J. Jones,
rector of Newington, wrote to Dr. Pusey, ' I am solemnly
assured by a member of our University that you maintained
in a sermon preached at St. Mary's, that ' the atonement
and mediation of Christ were not of avail for sin after
Baptism.' He asked for authority to contradict what he
felt, after reading ' the valuable Tracts on Baptism,' must
be strange misapprehension. Other letters preserved by
Dr. Pusey, and which he answered, denounce him and his
teaching in no measured terms.
1 Chap. xv. , * The Oxford Movement, p. 118.

1836.] LETTERS ON THE TRACT. 91
One, from his early friend, the Rev. John Parker,
expresses what Dr. Pusey himself felt, later, must be its
effect on some minds.
Your Tract is indeed an elaborate and instructive specimen of
deep theology : . . . yet I lament that expressions occur here and
there which throw a darker shade over the acknowledged sins of
men than other divines . . . would admit. The reading of it
lowered my spirits, both as to myself and others, for several months,
and produced a general feeling of despondency, which no part of
Scripture has ever done.
A letter, undated, but written some years later, shows
that Dr. Pusey felt that the Tract, taken alone, would not
sufficiently teach hope and comfort in repentance.
To the Rev. James Skinner.
Since our gracious Lord has lodged the earnest of forgiveness
in His Church, it may be a bright, hopeful, loving penitence, as
Bishop Andrewes quotes from the ancient Church, 'da semper
dolere, et de dolore gaudere.' I think that, in opposition to the
easy systems of the day, we have to insist on penitence, as a sor
rowful, humbler task, never to be laid aside; that the penitent
should never forget what he has been, but continually bewail it
before God, out of love to Him, because he has offended Him
and His glory. But then love always has comfort. He returns
to a loving Father, not an offended God only; to One Who
has loved him so exceedingly, and loves him still, and has
shown His love by recalling him. We must take care that we
break not the bruised reed. . . . You were going to qualify what
you had written. At its first sight it seems to allow too little place
for ' much forgiven because loving much ; ' to make penitence too
dreary a work, unrelieved by hope and love, and not to take
account of the restoration through the absolution, the Holy
Eucharist, and other appointed means (as I myself first did,
although I have since endeavoured to supply what I omitted), but
one sermon cannot contain all.

CHAPTER V.
LIBRARY OF THE FATHERS.
183s, 1836.
Who, though thus endued as with a sense
And faculty for storm and turbulence,
Is yet a soul whose master-bias leans
To home-felt pleasures and to gentle scenes ;
Sweet images ! which, wheresoe'er he be,
Are at his heart. Wordsworth.
The first notice amongst Dr. Pusey's papers of the cloud
which had arisen, and which increased during the next few
years until his whole earthly sky was darkened, is in a note
(directed to Brighton, October, 1835) from his old tutor,
the Rev. T. Vowler Short, at this time rector of St.
George's, Bloomsbury —
I am very sorry to hear this account of your good lady. I
hope Brighton will have done her good. May we hope to see
you on your return? . . . Come and spend a Sunday here and
give my parishioners a sermon.
Dr. Pusey returned to Oxford in October, but without
his wife, who was sent to Ryde, in the Isle of Wight,
where she seems to have been much with her brother-in-
law, William Pusey, and the family of his betrothed wife.
In a letter to Mrs. Pusey (November 1, 1835), on his
return home, her husband alludes to his wish to give a

1835-1 LETTER TO MRS. PUSEY. 93
large sum to the Bishop of London's Fund for building
churches : —
The dear children I heard by a squeak of joy before I saw them.
Their salutation was very affectionate. I drank tea with them, and
little M. climbed up a neighbouring chair and, amid other fondling,
kissed my hand. . . . They were all most anxious to anticipate my
wants, M. bringing me her two hands full of papers, and she waited
very amiably until I was ready or could finish them. . . .
... I saw you, dearest! long after you ceased to see me
(which was a privilege of my long sight), and I prayed God, and
hope we shall continue to pray to Him, to make this separation
which He has ordered answer all the ends which He intended,
and that, when united again in bodily presence, we may help each
other onwards more unremittingly and more straight-onwardly,
that so our 'Niemals letztes Wiedersehn' may be the more
joyous. I trast we shall continue to pray to be more completely
like-minded ; and ' if in anything we be otherwise minded, God
may reveal even this unto us.' I do not mean in this to allude
to any special thing : only I should wish that we should be like-
minded in all, not as if you were to come over to me in all
things, but that we may be like-minded ; and lest I should seem
to be referring to the one subject of the diminution of our fortune
— which I was not — I would say that in this it seems to me best
that we should pray to God to direct us to wish that which should
be most to His glory ; and then, if it should prove that we were
not both of the mind of which I was, then I shall think that,
though the thing were in itself undoubtedly good and very
desirable, yet that for some reason God saw it not to be so that
I should do it, and should lie still : and this I am quite prepared
to find ; indeed, it seems to me more likely that when He wills
anything to be done for poor London, He will raise some more
energetic instrument.
'Our "society" has some difficulties to set out with,
but too long to detail,' he writes, a day or two later. He
had founded a ' Theological Society ' for the purpose of

94 THEOLOGICAL SOCIETY.
promoting 'the study of Christian antiquity with that
of Holy Scripture,' and to 'afford to students facilities of
hearing subjects discussed, or difficult texts of Scripture
explained fully and in detail.' The two Professors of
Divinity, the Regius Professor of Hebrew, the Archdeacon
of Oxford, etc., were on the committee, and the society
met weekly in Dr. Pusey's house, where papers were read
by clergy of experience and learning. Eight were read
before the society by Mr. Keble.1
He ends his letter with a report of his children, who
' have been very good to-day,' he writes ; ' Lucy and Mary
looking better. M. very affectionate arid very nicely atten
tive and serious countenance at her prayers this morning?
Oxford, Nov. 7, 1835.
I received your two dear letters, this morning, and bless
God for the state of mind which they describe, as well as for the
vigilance and good counsels which, as God inspired, so we are
assured He is ready to bring to good effect. I read at breakfast
to your little ones what you said about 'God's peace,' which
elicited a little sound of joy from dear Lucy. Philip, I think,
decidedly improved during my absence : I was much struck by his
greater interest, when I was speaking about the Blessed Saints
yesterday, and his combination of what he had read. He stayed
with me while I was explaining the Collect, and then seemed to
like to stay while we prayed it, which formerly he declined. . . f
Of sermons which seem to have perplexed Mrs. Pusey,
he writes : —
At C. [Cheltenham] I think I meant that the real test of
repentance was change of life: — to cease to do evil, and learn to
1 It stimulated theological thought and work more than any other agency
in Oxford at the time (Life, i. p. 334). For a full account of the Society,
see Ibid. pp. 332-8.

1835-1 ON REPENTANCE. 95
do well— not matter of feeling : that it was not the acuteness or
bitterness of the grief which was the proof that our sorrow was a
godly sorrow, but whether it brought forth the fruits meet for
repentance : that we must look to our lives, not to our emotions.
I think that I said also, that it could not be that persons who
trusted that they were pardoned could have the same poignancy of
grief and distress of mind as one who doubted about his salva
tion. This was meant against a certain style of preaching and
a mode of describing repentance in the Low Church which I
think would make people cherish grief as an end, and use it as
a measure of sincerity; whereas it will increase in depth and
reality as we increase in holiness and love of God. Our first
grief must be very imperfect ; it is a mixture of alarm, shame, per
haps vexation, at the consequences of our sin, wounded self-love,
and, withal, a very imperfect knowledge of its offensiveness : . . .
for we have wounded our own conscience, and it no longer sees
clearly, even although God has awakened us to a general conscious
ness that we have sinned : but when God has in some measure
restored us . . . the sting is extracted ; but a holy sorrow increases.
This is what, I hope, I meant to say, although I may have
dwelt too much on the negative side (that repentance was not
emotion), thinking that you were needlessly harassed by Mr. C.'s x
sermons, and also I may not myself have had sufficient notions of
the depth of repentance ; as also I believed that you had very
little to repent of. . . .
... I pray God to make up to you, dearest, anything which
my own deficiency in religious attainment may have caused of
evil to you, or wherein I was a blind guide, and you will pray
that I be forgiven it, and enabled to see more. November 8, 1835.
I read to the children what I could out of your letter ;
more out of Mrs. W.'s, and I said that we ought to be, thankful
that you were so much stronger. . . . Anything which I can read
to them I like : it gives them an additional interest in the arrival
pf your letters. 1 Mr. Close.

96 LETTER ON JUSTIFICATION.
November ii.
Our little, or large theological society, is to meet on
alternate Fridays (as you wished) at 8 (after to-morrow). There
will only be two more meetings this Term — Friday week and three
weeks. It promises well ; but I almost fear I see elements of dis
union, in that John will scare people ; but of this nothing now.
,It is for the present held in this house : so I shall be Moderator,
and all your chairs confiscated. ... In all your arrangements, I
wish you only to consider yourself; i.e. your own health. I have
nothing to tire me this Term, and am taking things very easily ;
and we can hope for a holiday at Easter, nothing preventing. . . .
On justification by faith a good deal of perplexity and
confusion seems to me to arise from persons applying to them
selves all which St. Paul says of those who are converted from
heathenism, and again from their applying that to the end of
life which St. Paul speaks of the beginning. . . . Justification is
always spoken of in Scripture as a past act ; not, of course, as one
ceasing when completed, but still one not again to be renewed ; we
are placed, once for all, in a state of justification ; we are made
children of God, members of Christ ; and so we are ' found in
Christ,' as being ' Christ's,' and, with His whole Church, a portion
of His mystical Body. We have been justified freely; this first
justification we had nothing to do with but to receive (vide my
Brighton sermon and a sermon of N.'s) what has been done for
us and in us. In this justification there are no works, they are the
result of it; this justification is given in baptism ; and all good works
are the fruits of it, and the Sonship and adoption and union with
Christ then given : this justification, of course, ceases not, unless
a man falls from grace ; he has been, and continues justified : if
he fall from it, he is to be restored to it by repentance. What,
then, is the meaning of coming to Christ empty-handed? We
were brought to Him empty-handed once, and He filled us, and
we ought to remain filled with Him, and bringing forth fruits. . . .
The confusion is (i) that men look to justification as a thing
which they are to obtain, not one which has been given them.
(2) They have some confused notion of a building which they are
to raise up, and then they are afraid of their own works as if they

I83S-1 LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY. 97
were their works ; and so Christ's free grace were disparaged, if
anything were attached to them ; whereas, would they but look
upon themselves as the wild olive grafted into Christ, they would
see that there is no boastfulness, when all the richness and fatness
is derived from Christ, and all the works of God's best saints are
wrought in Him. November 13, 1835.
I am sorry to hear of your discomforts. . . . However, it
was planned well ; and as we meant it to be a sacrifice to go to
Ryde, God has made it a real one to you, and so taken you at
your word ; and that is often a great blessing, and is, I think, a
sign of His favour and good-will.
I am going on very well; last night (our first theological
society night, the next on Friday week) I read a paper, which
N. says must have lasted an hour and twenty minutes, and my
chest was not at all tired. There were thirty persons present in
the dining-room, so I had to read from one end to the other. I
do not know how it went off. I was a little nervous about it,
which I was not in the University pulpit : one ought not to have
thought of self more here than there. . . .
I tell you this [he continues, after mentioning a slight ailment]
that you may be assured that I would tell you more. Partly on
the same ground I tell you, dearest, that I have twice tried a little
degree of fasting ; once on the morning when I administered the
Lord's Supper to Mrs. W.'s father (you know that I always liked
your old plan of receiving the Lord's Supper fasting), and once
to-day, . . . and this I should like to continue on Fridays, and
I think it would do anybody rather good; I will deal honestly
about it. My first motive for telling you this is to avoid the
appearance of concealment; my second, that you may be the
more reconciled to my going on with it. November 15, 1835.
I have not allowed myself to have the slightest choice
about your coming home, except what would be best for you ;
but now, dearest, it will be a great blessing ; . . . ' old friends will
lovelier be as more of heaven in each we see ; ' how much more,
H

98 LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY.
then, one's own self? I do trast that God has blessed this parting,
and that He will make our reunion holier. . . .
This morning I began explaining the Sacraments (to Lucy),
but only the first question, for I thought I had said enough for
her dear little head to carry.1 I told her that I was not sure
whether I should explain to her about the other Sacrament yet,
spoke of it as a great blessing to her by-and-by, but that the time
depended oh herself. I forget whether any limit is fixed, for
Confirmation; I should have no hesitation in offering our dear
little L. at twelve, if she lives, and grows in grace as she now is
doing. How strange it seems that in six years, perhaps, she
might be with us at the Supper of Our Lord.
Christ Church, November 17, 1835.
I will delay the dinner of the two elder children that
they may dine with dear Mother, as was promised. Only forty-four
and a half hours and five minutes until we meet. I can hardly
understand it yet, but I suppose it will come to me, in time ; i.e.
that I shall be able to realize that my own dear wife is to be with
me always, if God will, all day long, in the same house, etc., etc.,
etc. . . . However, Thursday, by God's helping, will do so. I
shall teach the dear children to pray God to bring you safe home.
Thursday brought a letter from Mrs. Pusey putting off
her return for a day, on account of a slight accident, and
her husband sent a letter to meet her at Southampton. November 19.
All disappointment is necessarily so good for us, as prac
tically teaching us to submit our wills and to have none but God's,
that one ought to be thankful for it ; but I am very sorry for the
cause, dearest. To-morrow, unfortunately, is our second theolo
gical meeting, so, if you come, all the time from half-past seven
till ten will be taken up ; at present it promises better than it did.
I have a sermon of N. (MS.) which I am keeping for you ; it is
on the intermediate state.
1 She was six years old at this time.

I83S-1 BISHOP OF LONDON'S FUND. 99
The Tracts on Baptism might have seemed sufficient
work for the year, considering Dr. Pusey's frail health, and
that the Preface to his Arabic Catalogue was only finished
in April ; but he threw himself ardently into work for
supplying the appalling want of religious ministrations in
London, ' the largest heathen city in the world, except in
China,' as he wrote years later.1
Many letters amongst his papers show how much
time he must have given to writing privately to friends
urging them to subscribe to the Bishop of London's Fund.
He proposed to them to promise a sum, which they might
be unable to give at once, to be paid by four instalments
in four years.
Canon Jelf wrote, June 24, 1836 : —
My dearest Friend, — It was only yesterday that I received
the British Mag. for June, which contains an account of the
proposed subscription for the London churches, and as the paper
was drawn up by you, I ascertained for the first time that the plan
named by you in a former letter was identical with that of the
Bishop of London, which I received a short time ago.
He adds the promise of a considerable subscription, by
availing himself ' of the admirable and simple contrivance
of the four yearly instalments.'
Dr. Pusey's own contribution was an anonymous gift of
£5000, in two instalments, which obliged him and Mrs.
Pusey to give up their carriage and horses, and to retrench
in many ways.
The appointment of Dr. Hampden, on the death
1 To the movement which culminated in the noble effort of Bishop
Blomfield, Pusey gave the original impulse by a paper which appeared in the
British Magazine of November, 1835.— Life, i. p. 327.

100 DR. HAMPDEN'S APPOINTMENT.
(January, 1836) of Dr. Burton, to the Regius Professorship
of Divinity, forced Dr. Pusey unwillingly to the forefront
in the combat which for him henceforth was to be lifelong.
The chief features of the whole case, and its bearing on
the Oxford Movement, are recorded in the ' Life ' with
even more than Dr. Liddon's usual felicity in grasping
salient points.1
It was on New Year's Day, 1836, before there was any
likelihood of Dr. Burton's death, that the first note of the
coming struggle, whose issues were to be so considerable,
was sounded in a letter from Mr. H. J. Rose to Mr.
Newman, protesting against the 'injurious policy, the
policy of silence, of trusting that the books would not be
much read, and that the poison would not work,' pursued
with regard to Dr. Hampden's ' Course of Lectures ' (as
Professor of Moral Philosophy) published in the previous
October.2 To Mr. Rose, perhaps the most ' moderate ' of
the early workers in the cause of Catholic truth, the book
appeared ' anti-Christian,' and a sore ' aggravation of the
offence' of his former writings. That he should be
appointed, six weeks later, Regius Professor of Divinity,
was a stunning blow, not least to Dr. Pusey, who had seen
in Germany the result of such teaching. He drew attention
to the fact that his and his friends' opposition to it was
' not so much concerned with an individual or a book . . .
as with a Principle, which, after corrupting all soundness of
Christianity in other countries, has at length appeared
1 Life, i. chap. xvi.
* If Dr. Hampden was right in the teaching of his Bampton Lectures in
1832, it would seem that much of the Prayer-book ought to be re-written,
unless, indeed, it is permissible to address to Almighty God language which it
is wrong to employ when speaking about Him. — Life, i. p. 362.

1836.] LONGINGS FOR REST. IOI
among us, and for the first time been invested with
authority in the University of Oxford.' 2
The advancing wave which he had foreseen had broken
on the University. He was at this moment perhaps
resting on his oars, if that could ever be said of him, and
shrank for the moment from leading the first charge. But
he must needs follow his destiny.
Everything everywhere seems dark (he wrote to Newman);
my great comfort is that I can do nothing and have nothing to
do. . . . Rose wants you to 'bell the cat.' I am weary of
reading in order to censure ; it is a hurtful office, and my study
of Zwingli in the summer was more than enough for some time.
The Archbishop of Canterbury had given Lord Mel
bourne a list of those whom he thought most fit for the
Regius Professorship of Divinity. It comprised eight
names, Dr. Pusey's being first on the list, Mr. Newman's
fourth, and Mr. Keble's fifth. Lord Melbourne sent the
list to Dr. Whately of Dublin, where he was now arch
bishop, and, upon his advice and Bishop Coplestone's,
passed over all the men recommended by Archbishop
Howley, and appointed Dr. Hampden to the vacant chair.2
Of all this, except the result, Dr. Pusey of course, at the
time, knew nothing.8 In a note to his correspondence,
written in 1862, Cardinal Newman says : —
1 Report of the Committee appointed to draft it ancl a public declaration.
* See Lord Melbourne's Papers (Longmans, 1889), p. 497.
J I delivered your message to Pusey (the Rev. T. Mozley wrote to
Newman, January 27, 1836). He laments that this Divinity Chair is the
only appointment against which there is not even any regular way of protest
ing, as the Professor comes down with his Royal Mandate, and there is the end
of it. However, he says that if, as he hears, he [Hampden] is to be appointed,
he will write a letter to Lord Melbourne protesting against it. — Letters, etc.,
of J. II. Newman, ii. p. 158.

102 DISAPPOINTMENT.
Pusey did write one of his most earnest, weightiest, crushing
letters to Lord Melbourne, who answered him cleverly and
sharply, and did not conceal the great antipathy he felt in con
sequence towards Pusey.
Every effort was made by him and Dr. Newman, while
yet the appointment was uncertain, to prevent its fulfil
ment ; but in spite of protest and declaration and petition
to the King, signed by High and Low alike in Oxford,
Dr. Hampden was appointed Regius Professor of Divinity,
and the University could only testify to its sense of his
unfitness for the office by applying a statute to his case
which gave Convocation power, should the Regius Pro
fessor forfeit by his teaching the confidence of the Uni
versity, to deprive him of the right of sitting at the Board
of Inquiry into Heretical Doctrines, or at that which
nominated select preachers. This was done in Convoca
tion after Easter (May, 1836), by the votes of 474 against
94, Mr. Keble making a Latin speech on the occasion in
favour of the measure. There is a depressed tone in Dr.
Pusey's letters at this time, as though fearing to face what
was before him.
To-morrow is my wife's first birthday (he wrote to Newman,
May 19, 1836). You will spare a few thoughts for us. The
third birthday is more solemn, but the burthen and heat of the
day is then over, and ' their works do follow them.' x
The summer's work was chiefly twofold : first the
defence of cathedrals and of their constitution against a
Bill brought in by Lord John Russell to suppress cathe
dral and collegiate preferments. Dr. Liddon considers
1 He always accounted the day of baptism as the second birthday ; the
day of entrance into another life the third.

1836.] LIBRARY OF THE FATHERS. 103
that the withdrawal of this Bill, on July 25, 'was in part
the work of the religious resistance to which Pusey had
powerfully contributed ; ' although he had many and
extensive cathedral reforms at heart, especially that
parishes in which cathedrals held tithes should be well
endowed, and ample provision made for the spiritual needs
of their inhabitants. To this desire his correspondence
concerning special places bears witness, and to his anxiety
that the responsibilities of Christ Church towards certain
parishes should be fulfilled.
The great work was also begun during this vacation, to
which he put the finishing touch only three months before
his death — the ' Library of the Fathers.' It appeared to
him to be of highest importance at this time, when the
Tractarians appealed to the great body of teaching set
forth by the Fathers of an undivided Christendom, to set
that teaching before Englishmen in their own language,
and to impress upon them, in the words of his Prospectus
of the proposed Library, that ' the Anglican branch of the
Church Catholic is founded upon Holy Scripture and the
agreement of the universal Church,' and that her appeal
is not to the opinions of individual bishops, who might
and did differ, but to the teaching held by all, in all times
and in all Churches.
Mrs. Pusey notes, in her diary, July 26, 1836: 'Went
to Holton,' where the rest of the Long Vacation was spent.
' When are you coming here ? ' her husband wrote, August
20, to Newman. . . . ' Consult your own time and employ
ment, and come when you have a headache and like a
little rest.' Across this note his wife wrote : ' Monday
is dearest Edward's birthday — you will not forget to

104 CONSECRATION OF LITTLEMORE CHURCH.
remember him, especially in your prayers.' On August 24,
she notes, ' Mr. Newman came.' It was probably at
this ' meeting of the two friends,' one of the most fruitful
in the history of the movement, that the notion of a
Library of the Fathers took definite shape ; certainly
from this time Dr. Pusey's letters to Newman are full of
the scheme, and bear witness to the endless capacity for
taking trouble, and invincible perseverance which enabled
him to achieve it No detail of its management was too
small to engage his attention — a striking characteristic to
the end of his life in anything which he thought of suffi
cient importance to care for at all. He consults his friend
as to whether the volumes should be printed ' as Bagster
does his Bible, interleaved, so that either translation or
original might be sold separately, or both together,' and
writes of the great care needful as to accuracy of trans
lation, so as —
not to give people room to say we have put in anything; and
even a degree of roughness may well be admitted, if one can
obtain energy. A fault of the day is sleekness. The names
' Augustine,' etc., look sadly shorn -without their ' St.,' and I have
some misgiving that they are outworks to the ' St.' of the Holy
Apostles, which also ultra-Protestants drop. ... It does not do
to take up as your position what you really want to defend; for
even if you succeed it is very rudely battered about, whereas if
you keep the outwork, you get rudely assailed, but the citadel is
at peace. The Low Church already talk of Peter and Paul.
* Went to the consecration of Littlemore Church. The
Bishop of London, etc., etc, dined and slept here,' is the
entry of September 22, at Holton, in Mrs. Pusey's journal.
The same evening Dr. Pusey wrote to Newman to tell him

1836.] THE TRIPLE CORD. 105
of the Bishop of Oxford's approval of the proposed
Library, and in an undated letter wrote, ' The Bishop of
London approves of the plan, and says he shall buy it
and read as much as he can.' Probably the two bishops
met at Holton. He wrote the same day to Mr. Keble,
earnestly entreating that his name should be joined to
his own and to Newman's as responsible for the publi
cations. I have actually sent your name as joint editor, waiting only
for your formal sanction of it. I hope that you will not think it
very bold : but, you know, ' a triple cord,' etc. : and last year
you and Newman left me to write my ' Tract on Holy Baptism '
by myself, and to bear all the brunt of the Record; so this year
I have intertwined yours and Newman's names so fast that I
hope they will not easily slip away.
The task of finding translators, editing, and writing
prefaces to translations, was no light one. An immense
number of letters on the subject, both to and from Dr.
Pusey, are amongst his papers ; but he was cheered
by the increasing sale of the volumes as years went on.
Rivingtons had insisted on a subscription list for the
Library, before undertaking its publication, and the
number of names rose from less than 800 in the first list,
to over 3700 in that for 1853. The first volume, 'St.
Augustine's Confessions,' edited, and with a preface by
Dr. Pusey, appeared in 1838 ; the last in 1885— three years
after Dr. Pusey's death. In all there were forty-eight
volumes, their publication extending over forty-seven
years. Their value was felt and acknowledged by many
who were far from being High Churchmen : in a note
(dated Walton Rectory, Herts, November 18, 1836),

106 LIBRARY OF THE FATHERS.
endorsed by Dr. Pusey,1 'Mr. Bickersteth,' the writer
says : —
I cannot but write a few lines to express the sincere pleasure
with which I view your design, in connection with Mr. Keble and
Mr. Newman, of publishing a select Library of Fathers. Few
things could be more seasonable or more beneficial to the Church
of England, to which, I feel more and more, it is a real privilege
in these days of disunion and division to be united; it is my
hearty prayer that the great Head of the Church may very greatly
prosper the design for extended good.
To the last the ' Library of the Fathers ' continued a
matter of deep interest to Dr. Pusey. He was wont to
send those who consulted him as to religious reading to its
pages — however unlearned they might be — if he thought
them sufficiently intelligent to profit by reading them ; and
said, in especially recommending ' St. Augustine on the
Psalms,' ' Then, when you say them, you will think of his
comments.' It was not until three months before his death that he
wrote : —
My work for the ' Library of the Fathers ' is done. ... I have
myself no longer any time to revise anything. At nearly eighty-
two one cannot increase work. . . . Perhaps the ' Library of the
Fathers ' may come into some hands who would fill up the gaps.
But I, you see, cannot do anything.
Another plan to help students of theology he made in
the spring of 1836; namely, to receive three or four into
his own house (at no expense to them), and to assist them
in their reading. Hardly any one but himself would have
thought, with a delicate wife and young children, of such
1 Dr. Pusey very rarely endorsed a letter.

1836.] HOSPITALITY. I07
a scheme, or carried it out. The first whom he received in
this way was Mr. James B. Mozley, who was then twenty-
two, and whose brother John had just married Mr.
Newman's sister, Jemima. Mr. Mozley wrote to his
mother, April 10, 1836: —
Newman has a scheme 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. . . . 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.1
To the end of his life Dr. Pusey seems to have thought
of his house as a home, whenever needed, for others. The
bedroom accommodation was large, as may be imagined
from his being able to give apartments permanently to
three or four men ; and many would have rather lessened
it, so as to decrease the number of guests. But, at seventy-
four, he wrote to his son, apparently in reply to some
question as to receiving a guest : —
It might be well to have a bed to put in the schoolroom.
I had forgotten it. Hospitality is one of the duties of the clergy.
1 In a note to Newman (spring of 1836), sending him some manuscript to
'criticize unsparingly,' he begs him 'first to think over the main evils of the
want of education of the clergy, both generally, and in especial reference to
these times.'

CHAPTER VI.
VISIT TO GUERNSEY.
1837.
II ben nostro in questo ben s'affina,
Che quel che vuole Dio e noi volemo.
Dante, Paradiso, c. xx.
The Edward Puseys appear to have spent the Christmas
holidays of 1836 with Lady Lucy, at Holton, for she writes
to her favourite son on January 1, 1837 : —
I am sorry that I had not more command of my feelings
yesterday, but yours and Mrs. Pusey's kindness overset me in the
morning, and if it should please God that you should live to nearly
my age, and your children are preserved to you, and are amiable,
you will know the comfort of having them with you, and as you
grow older that will increase as you advance.
The sun shines bright this morning. May the sun shine
brightly upon you and yours this and every following year. May
every blessing attend you all, and believe me, ever, your affection
ate mother, Lucy Pusey.
Pray kiss the little ones for me, and say something very kind
at the same time.
Dr. Pusey was called upon about this time to deal with
the attack upon his position as being in itself Romanist,

IS37-1 OUTCRY OF ' POPERY: 109
which was henceforth to form so large a portion of the
troubles of coming years. The teaching of those doctrines
of the undivided Church which had never been questioned
in the Latin Communion, but which in England, in spite
of the witness of the Prayer-book, had been well-nigh
forgotten, could not be revived without the cry of Roman
izing being raised against the teachers ; and naturally so,
since in the popular mind, doctrines, especially sacra
mental, held by the whole Church, had become identified
with ' Popery.' On Easter Day this year he wrote that
'the walls of Oxford have been placarded for the last
week with " Popery of Oxford," and its citizens have been
edified with the exhibition of Newman's and my name as
papists.' All this brought more work upon him than he
was fit for, and Newman grudged his time and strength
being taken up in answering shallow and impertinent
letters. Take care you are not knocked up (he wrote, September 8,
1836). I am so afraid these various letters, etc., will overset
you. You must not mind a letter like Mr.  's. Depend upon
it, whatever you said in explanation, a certain number of persons
will misunderstand you. I do not see why you should not answer
Mr.  's immodest letter, as far as the thing itself goes, but I
see many reasons, as far as your health goes. Really, if things
go much further, I shall make a formal complaint to Mrs. Pusey.
You will suffer for it afterwards.
The amount of preaching undertaken by Dr. Pusey at
this time was a serious addition to his work. He evidently
felt it to be a powerful engine in his hands for the revival
of Catholic teaching, and he believed also in the great
usefulness of published sermons. He writes to Mr. Keble,
March 20, 1837, urging him to prepare a volume.

110 PRESSURE OF WORK.
We all want them. People will read sermons who will read
nothing else. You must expect to hear the word SERMONS
in every letter which you receive from Oxford, till you consent ;
and when you come here you shall be entertained with it, so that
it shall be your meat, drink, and sleep, until you satisfy us.
' Newman's and my continual wish is,' he says in the
same letter, ' "would one had a hundred heads and a hun
dred hands," so much to be done and so few to do it' He
turned for help in preparing ' St. Augustine's Confessions '
for the Library of the Fathers, to his wife, the entries in
whose journal show that she had become more and more
engrossed by her husband's interests, and that her mind
was increasingly in unison with his. A few entries in 1837
bring to our minds a faint shadow of those early days, and
of the atmosphere in which she lived.
January 16 — Began with Lucy going to the daily service. 23 —
Mr. Keble came ; Mr. Newman to dinner. 27 — Theological
party. 28 — Mr. Keble left. February 8 — Began ' St. Chrysostom
on Baptism.' 21 and 25 — In the Bodleian.
This entry recurs continually after this date, and on
April 8, 10, 12, and 13, 'Collating St. Augustine.' April 15 —
' Helping Edward with St. Augustine.' l
In April Dr. Pusey went to London to forward the
Church building plan, which lay so near his heart, and
to discuss the details of the scheme with Bishop Blomfield,
whose relations with him were of the most cordial.
1 Her natural abilities must have been much above the average. Her
cousin, Miss Boddington, wrote, after her death, to Dr. Greenhill (August 24,
1839): 'The short essay written by the late Mrs. Edward Pusey, dated April 27,
is to be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for June, 1821 . . . on the
Education of the Poor. It is a striking production for a young woman of
seventeen living a very retired life.'

1837.] CHURCH CLERICAL AID SOCIETY. 1 1 1
Grosvenor Square, April 8, 1837.
I was very much vexed to recollect on my way to the
coach that I had forgotten the children and my promise : however,
I blessed them as I did you with that choice of all blessings,
' the peace of God,' as I saw the cross on the cathedral presiding
over and hallowing our dear home. Tell the dear children that I
blessed them and thought of them much when I woke this morn
ing. ... I trust that your increased feeling of fatigue is a sign
that the fever is abating, at least it is pleasant to hope so, though
I fear you will be sadly weak, dearest. . . .
I called on your mama early this morning ; . . . then to Mr.
Dodsworth, with whom I had a nice talk; Bishop of London,
ditto, ditto, and new Church-Clerical-aid coming out on a splendid
scale of subscription ; two archbishops and Bishop of L. and the
King ^200 per annum each, . . . regulations just such as I like.
Then had a nice talk with Rose, an hour and a half. . . .
Of this society he wrote about this time to Rev. Hon.
Arthur Perceval : —
I am myself very sanguine that ... it may tend to show
people that the spoliation is not necessary . . . that small endow
ments may be provided, without robbery, and, when they see
something being done, we may have less of the cry, What is to be
done for our great towns ? At least, the answer will be ready, ' Sub
scribe.' I am very anxious about it on this ground, and for our
great towns also, and for our clergy and Church also, who are
exciting and being excited, because there is such terrific quantity
to be done and so few external means. . . . The Bishop of
London's plan for church building has already done a great deal
of good in this way.
I hope it may raise the scale of subscriptions : the proportion
between what people apparently and notoriously keep to them
selves and what they give to God is frightful and debasing.
And even those who mourn over it are more or less infected
by the general selfishness and self-indulgence. But I do hope

1 1 2 WORK IN LONDON.
people will subscribe their ^10 io.r. per annum where they
used to subscribe one. It is much easier managed than people
think.
To his Wife.
April 10, 1837.
I have just returned, having been out since half-past ten
at Lambeth (where I am going to dine), and London House and
the Committee. The business has all been, on the whole, satis
factory ; as much so as I could expect. . . . None of my resolu
tions were exactly carried, but two were which will do good. . . .
I preached for an hour in the morning at Mr. Dodsworth's chapel ;
then we administered the Communion to above a hundred people,
and then, not feeling myself tired, I preached for an hour in the
evening, and my chest did not feel it in the least. . . . Tell
dearest Lucy and Mary that I am very much pleased that they
strove so much the more to be good to please me ; but that they
must recollect that they have another Father Whom they will one
day see although they have not seen ; and what joy that will be,
if they are good, Whom they will see with their own eyes.
I am very sorry to hear of your cough ; for a good deal of
weariness I suppose you must prepare. Dr. Spry asked me
whether the young man had done anything about the MSS. ; I
said the person who was to had not been well, but will, I have
no doubt, soon.
Mrs. Pusey's notices of work are frequently interspersed
with others which tell of failing health and increasing
weakness — 'poorly all day,' 'unable to go out,' and, on
May 22, 1837 — 'Left Oxford for Southampton with Susan
and the children and Henry.1 23 — Left for Guernsey
per steam packet, wrote to Edward, heard from Edward.
24 — Took lodgings in Pierreport.'
There follow short records of almost daily rides and
1 Rev. H. Raymond Barker,

1837.I LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY. 113
expeditions ; and, constantly, of ' copying ' for her husband,
when he joined her in June.
He writes to her on May 22, immediately after their
parting : —
This has been, of course, a heavy day ; I went back to my
room and prayed. . . . Went to see John x at two, who was
coming to me. Walked with him; . . . desired Coles to call,
about selling the carriage. Went to the Cathedral. . . .
May 23.
You will not think of me as immersing myself in busi
ness ; there seems to be more reason to think I shall not do any
thing at all than too much. Yesterday was, of course, very heavy ;
but one could not but think of God's mercy in having preserved
us these nine years amid all that threatened us, and pray that wc
may so use His mercies that He might not ever see it necessary
to part us for very long seasons, but allow us, as far as may be, to
live and die together. May 23.
Do not think of economizing ; the object of your
journey is to get well, if God will ; and so, whatever is necessary,
you must take as part of your prescription, although you had
rather that the Churches in London had it. ... I have had very
tender enquiries from John and Williams and kind ones from
others. It was strange to overlook our eldest daughter and not
wish her ' God be with you ; ' I will not say ' out of sight, out of
mind ' ... for I have missed her step in at prayers  It is a
sort of memento that all one's family is gone. . . . Give dear little
Mary an especial kiss for her good lesson, but kiss and bless them
all for me. What you say about Mrs.  is sad, dearest, but we
must recollect that God never makes a void which He does not
fill up ; never a wound which He will not cure ; and, as we have
often said, that void He fills up with Himself. As I walked
heavily about tlie house on Monday and Tuesday, I thought ' If
1 J. II. Newman.

114 LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY.
thou hadst more faith thou wouldst not be thus heavy, for thy God
would be more present with thee ; ' and then I was not so heavy.
May 25.
My sermon x was, I am told, one and a half hour ; people
were very attentive and the dear little children very quiet and
good. I know not what the collection was, but some people seem
to have been impressed with it. . . . The dear little children with
their white pinafores and straw bonnets looked such emblems of
purity, and I thought of our own dear Catherine and how pure and
bright she is.
God bless you, dearest ; a large opening seems made in the first
week of parting, and the rest will, if it please Him, pass rapidly
by ; and when we meet again we must try to live yet more like
pilgrims heavenwards. I am much perplexed by my own sermon,
for I know not how I can act up to it, with our Heads-of-Houses
dinners ; and it has come across me had one not better give them
up altogether? But this is very crude. May 26.
You would not wish it to be otherwise than lonely here,
although one sees plenty of people, and will have too much dining
out; however, two invitations . . . happily clashed with two
others. I have not got on with anything. May 31.
I am just come in from a walk with John, which I sup
pose makes me (i.e. the warm weather and the beautiful flowers
and the fresh green) write excitedly and, besides, this day fort
night I am to be (nothing intervening) at Guernsey. June 4 1837.
I was much grieved to hear yesterday that Rogers' 2 sister
is dying of a decline, and that he thinks that it is in part owing to
her having acted too rigidly on my Tracts, I suppose on fasting.
1 For Diocesan Society for Education of the Poor.
1 The late Lord Blachford.

1837.] LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY. 115
So it is in this miserable state of the Church, when the clergy so
differ as to what the Church means, or whether it signifies whether
she means anything, that people have no individual advisers, and
one has resort to this quackery of printing, which sends out a
medicine into the world without being able to say how, or in what
proportions, or by what individuals it is to be used. You, for my
sake, dearest, will remember her in your prayers for the sick. . . .
[A valuation of Mrs. Pusey's ornaments by a jeweller follows :
she was about to sell them for the Bishop of London's Fund.]
The first report x is to come out soon ; the whole sum collected
is scarcely more than ,£117,000.
John wishes you to go on with the Commentary when you
are well; he says it is just the right length; he likes it; he did
not compliment ; but he, as well as your husband, wishes you to
go on, when you can, but first you must recruit.2
I know not whether you meditate seeing the Guernsey Races
for the sake of seeing the people ; but would you think whether
you had better not ? They produce a great deal of sin ; is it not
then part of Christian charity not to go near them, or to counte
nance them ?
The Curate's Fund has £3600 per annum. . . . When one sees
£100 annual to some people's names, one is the more thankful to
Him for having put it into one's mind to subscribe that sum one
self. It is gaining good interest, or, as dear John said to me once,
' Thy pound has gained ten pounds.' Would that anything like
that could be said of one's whole stewardship and that one had
not been much more like the slothful servant. June 7, 1837.
I cannot tell you how much pleasure and cheerfulness
your letters give me ; it is somewhat dreary to return out of the
crowds (I was in the Theatre to-day) to where wife and children
have been : but it ought not to be, since God is everywhere.
1 Of Bishop of London's Fund for building churches.
8 There are, amongst Dr. Pusey's papers, some fragments of a Commentary
for Children on the beginning of St. Matthew's Gospel, in Mrs. Pusey's hand
writing.

Il6 VISIT TO GUERNSEY.
What must it be to those who have lost them ? God be blessed
for preserving you. It makes one's head giddy, when one thinks
of the risk you ran. I read over your letter with thankfulness,
but still rather looking to the preservation than the danger, and
fancied your little boat bounding along with its full sails, and
then on a second reading my eyes fell on the words 'Watery
Grave,' and it all looked very different. You must be very care
ful about those seas. ... I sat out the Commemoration to-day
(as Doctor), a very nice Latin speech from Keble, to which the
Undergraduates were very attentive, on the ' Benefits of the
College System,' and a very beautiful poem on the Gypsies from
young Stanley, full of beautiful, pious thoughts, as well as of much
poetic beauty. His father, the new Bishop of Norwich, was there,
and quite overcome by the enthusiastic applause given to his son.
He seems to be extremely loved ; — some such thoughts came over
one : — one wished not that one's son should be so loved, but one
wished he might have been, or will be, in the way to become so
good, so amiable, and so worthy of love. . . . Will you say the
prayers at half-past eight if you can, on Monday ? x God be blest
for nine blessed years and make us more worthy of His mercies.
About the middle of June Dr. Pusey joined his family
in Guernsey, and on July 12 they went to Sark, where
Dr. Wootton paid them a two days' visit, probably to see
how Mrs. Pusey progressed. He and his family had
been amongst their closest and kindest friends at Oxford.
Dr. Pusey always placed unreserved confidence in those
whom he chose as medical advisers ; ' The voice of a wise
physician,' he often said, ' is the voice of God.' 2
1 Anniversary of their marriage.
2 ' I knew Dr. and Mrs. Wootton very well as a child, and my eldest sister,
Philip, and I used to stay at their house in Broad Street, when our parents were
away. Dr. Acland succeeded to Dr. Wootton's practice, and has lived in the
same house that Dr. W. occupied all his Oxford life. After Dr. Wootton's
death, his wife joined the Church of Rome, and lived out at Iffley. She has
been dead many years.' — Note by Mrs. Brine.

1837.I GOVERNOR OF GUERNSEY. 1 17
The memory of those that are gone * (Dr. Wootton wrote to
Dr. Pusey at this time) . . . must be associated with recollections
of your unwearied kindness to them and the great comforts and
benefits which they received from you; and Mrs. Wootton will
always consider your friendship at that time as one of the greatest
blessings. Dr. Pusey wrote from Guernsey to Newman of his wife's
health as ' mending,' ' although,' he adds, ' she is still very
weak, so much so that she cannot walk (except a little in
a room) by herself.' It is characteristic of his hopefulness
that he mentions so slight a rally as ' an earnest of a fuller
restoration of health in His good time, although the cough
is not gone, or, rather, increased. I am very sorry to hear
of the alarming illness of Manning's and H. Wilberforce's
wives.' Mrs. Pusey notes, on July 27, ' Edward and I
dined out.' It may be of this dinner that he says (July,
1837), in the same letter, after giving a sorrowful account
of the state of religious belief in the island :-—
The most interesting phenomenon here, however, to me is the
Governor, a Lieut-Colonel Sir James Douglas, . . . who does
simply and downrightly whatever he sees to be his duty, and who,
without any help from without, has come to the Catholic views.
I was sitting opposite Cornish, a little below him, at dinner, when,
Ireland being spoken of, he burst out with such a strong natural
eloquence, regretting that the Irish 'clergy had departed from our
first Reformation, that of our Prayer-book, spoke of them warmly
as excellent, pious, self-devoted men, but that all their exertions
were ' crippled : ' they were wearing themselves out doing nothing,
neither gaining from the Romanists nor helping their own people ;
that it was lamentable that because the North was wrong people
should think they must go due South ; then spoke simply and well
1 Two children, whom Dr. Pusey had constantly visited during their last
illness, in 1835 (see a letter describing Alice Wootton in the Life, i. p. 316).

Il8 MRS. PUSEY'S ILLNESS.
on the value of Ordinances : in short, it was the via media
coming from the lips of a layman and a veteran officer. Cornish's
eyes glistened with joy ; I hailed the omen and told him that that
was just what we were struggling for at Oxford, of which he knew
nothing. I heard some more of his history in a conversation of two
hours, and it did not appear that he had any outward help except
his Prayer-book as a comment on the Ordinances (the Communion
he had received weekly for four years where he was last quartered),
only he mentioned a sermon of Mr. Sibthorp's, which he said would
in Ireland be condemned because it would not tell against the
Papist. The only question there is, What will tell against Popery ?
(I imagine Mr. S.'s sermon was on the Eucharist.) ' And yet,'
he said, ' it was only what is in the Prayer-book.' It was very
encouraging — a sort of earnest that there are Corneliuses of whom
we know nothing. I have been happier ever since. I cannot give
you any idea of the simple, vivid straightforwardness and upright
warmth with which he spoke. I have not, long, been so struck
with any one.1
' Reached home by the Southampton coach ; the
Woottons and Mr. Newman came in the evening,'
Mrs. Pusey noted on August 16 ; and for a fortnight many
rides and walks are recorded. Then, on the 31st, 'Taken
ill in the evening.' After this, for nearly three weeks, her
brief entries indicate serious illness. 'September 10 —
Prayed for (by Mr. Hussey) in St. Aldate's Church. 11—
Had on a blister. 15 — 111 all day with fever and head
ache.' Her reading for the next few months, marked most
days, seems to have been of the gravest, in spite of weak
ness and suffering. ' St. Augustine,' ' Lives of the
1 Dr. Pusey did not forget the good Cornelius ; there is a letter of thanks
from the latter for sermons which he had sent to him. ' I am happy to say,'
Sir J. Douglas adds, ' that notwithstanding the suspicion with which every
thing from Oxford is now received by the evangelical party, the sermons were
admired and approved of.'

1837.] LETTER TO BISHOP BAGOT. ng
Fathers,' 'Newman's Sermons,' 'Vie de Ste. Therese,'
'Pascal,' 'Aristotle,' 'Dr. Buckland's Bridgewater
Treatise,' 'Bishop Butler's Analogy,' 'Euclid,' 'Greek.'
In spite of increasing illness she spent the winter at
Oxford. ' Edward dined out,' is a frequent entry ; but
never again, ' We dined out' 'Greek, Klopstock, Aris
totle, Beveridge, Edward's Sermon,' is her note of reading
on October 30.
The Christian Observer had attacked Dr. Pusey, saying
that he ought to lecture at Maynooth or at the Vatican ;
and so many letters (often anonymous) of complaint were
sent to the Bishop of Oxford (Dr. Bagot), that he wrote
asking for an explanation from Dr. Pusey, who, in a long
letter of reply (September 26, 1837), appealed to 'the
Ornaments Rubric ' in answer to one complaint of ' a
peculiar kind of cross ' on a surplice.
It was (he wrote) worn by one individual only ; but . . . this
was no device of his own, but according to one interpretation of
the rubric prefixed to the Morning Service, about the ' ornaments
of the church and the minister,' being ' the same as in the second
year of Edward VI.' The scarf there directed to be worn had
crosses on it. I saw the scarf in question : it was a very narrow
one . . . with two very unpretending crosses at the two ends,
and was meant to be exactly the same as that prescribed in
Edward VI.'s time, and, as some think, enjoined still. ... As
Bishop Cosin and others maintain the opinion that this rubric is
binding, I did not think it worth while to advise the young clergy
man who wore the one in question against it, further than giving
him the general advice not to let his attention be distracted by
these things from others of more moment. . . . With regard to
the remaining charge [that a credence table was used], I need not
say anything to your Lordship. The innovation clearly is with
those who allow the bread and wine to be placed upon the altar by

120 TRACT NO. Si.
clerks or sextons. ... It is, in fact, only a side-blow at sound
principles, because it is easier to talk about ' dresses ' and ' inno
vations ' than to meet arguments.
The later part of 1837 was partly taken up by bringing
out Tract 81, on the Holy Eucharist.1 A long letter from
Dr. Pusey to Dr. Hook, Vicar of Leeds, who was teaching
the principles of the Tracts in his parish, was written
about this time, evidently with an ardent desire to draw
him into more declared co-operation with Newman and
with himself.
Nothing could be further, probably, from the thoughts of those
who started the Tracts than that they would ever attain anything
like the report, good or evil, which they have. They were cast
out at first, like bread upon the waters, which they who cast it
knew not when they should find. . . . They were little beginnings,
to become whatever God might will. Now, . . . people . . . want
to know what is thought of them, or what to think of them ; they
have not access to much of the old divinity with which they
accord, and they will be for a time one of the chief channels
through which people will receive the old views. (He goes on to
express his hope that nothing may occur) to weaken us by making
people think we are not so united as we really are. One great
source of the impression which we make is, humanly speaking,
our union ; the Record, tries as much as it can to make out that
we are but three, that the Tracts are not Oxford Tracts, but Tracts
1 He was thus led on to that careful exposition of the doctrine of the
Eucharist which formed so large a part of the work of his life. . . . The
writers of the Tracts had appealed to primitive antiquity, and they were
confronted with the fact that antiquity is full of the doctrine of a sacrifice in
the Eucharist. On the other hand, in much of the current teaching of the
English Church this doctrine [of the presentation or offering of the Sacrifice
made by Christ upon the cross to the Eternal Father] had fallen to a very
great extent into the background ; and this circumstance made an immediate
restatement of the doctrine a natural feature of the general enterprise
represented by the Tracts. — Life, ii. p. 31.

1837.] DOCTRINE UNCONSCIOUSLY HELD. 121
of K., N./ P. ... I have written all this because there is a
number of persons who think that they shall act best independently.
I thought so once, but I found myself swept into the stream, . . .
and so I was the more comfortable ; my place was given me.
Your doctrine, I am told (he wrote to Mr. Keble, Nov. 15,
1837), which I preached on Nov. 5, takes with people whom ftne
would not have thought, so valuable is the religio loci. It seems
as if true doctrine here still environed us, even when unseen ; that
people held it, even though half unconsciously, and that they
needed but to be awakened to what they indeed held. And this
is very cheering in all ways.

CHAPTER VII.
DARK DAYS.
1838.
When grief came upon grief, I never was tempted to ask, ' How
have I deserved this of God ? ' as sufferers sometimes do. I always
felt that there must be cause enough — corruption enough needing
purification, weakness enough needing strengthening — nothing of the
chastisement could come to me without cause and need. — Elizabeth
Barrett Browning.
From the time he became a father Dr. Pusey's one
thought for his children, which is apparent in every letter
concerning them, was so to order them that they might pass
their lives according to the beginning made in baptism,
and to prepare them for some special service and
dedication to God during their earthly course. They all
adored him ; yet his discipline was strict, and might be
called severe. ' Our system, if it is worth anything, must
be contrary to the world's system, and so must cost us
something. . . . This is written amid our little girls' prattle
and play, which has made my head ache,' he wrote to his
wife in 1836, after mentioning a conversation with his elder
brother, in which the latter had urged less strictness. The
shortness of earthly life, the greatness of having brought
a creature into existence for eternity were realized by him
so vividly, that the ordinary anxieties of parents as to their

1838.I ILLNESS OF PHILIP PUSEY. 1 23
children's earthly future seem hardly to have found place in
his mind. His joy in their birth—' our latest treasure,' he
calls one of his little girls shortly after she was born — was
the joy — That one was born
Into a world forgiven,
' His ' Father's mansion to adorn
And dwell with ' him ' in heaven.
Yet he ever thought much of the gift of life, as involving
great issues, and one, at least, who knew him well, has
often been even surprised at his keen distress in the
prospect of valued friends passing from this earth, and his
ardent and sanguine hopes for their recovery when others
had ceased to hope.1
Now, in the early spring of 1838, in the midst of deep
anxiety for his wife, his only son, not yet seven years old,
became alarmingly ill, the beginning of his manifold and
lifelong bodily affliction. ' There is nothing immediate,' his
father reported to Newman ; ' the disease may be stopped ;
though, beginning so early, there seems little hope that he
will grow up to fulfil the wish of preaching in your pulpit.'
To his wife, who went by his desire to Lady Lucy, in
London, to see a physician, he wrote : — April 3, 1838.
Though we often do not seem to see much of each
other in the day, yet the house is very dreary without Mysie. I
dread, too, your making yourself ill, by over-exerting yourself in
1 Although it is a great mercy of God (he wrote to his wife in 1835, on
the third anniversary of their infant's death) that she is safe, and is one of
Christ's lambs, . . . still it is a privilege for those who serve God with the
duties of a whole life. Hers, although a happy, blessed lot, does not seem,
according to Scripture, the best lot. ... I do not think that length of days
would have been so much and so often spoken of as a blessing, and the
blessing bestowed by 'Wisdom' on the 'Fear of God,' unless it had been
in some real way a blessing beyond the term of earthly existence.

124 LETTER TO MRS. PUSEY.
London. . . . Newman expressed very beautiful satisfaction at
your increased strength. April 4, 1838.
Poor Philip enjoyed being out yesterday, but was very
tired afterwards. . . . He is not worse, nor are there any
immediate apprehensions; but I fear, dearest, I, at least, have
been over sanguine as to his amendment I do not think Dr.
Wootton thinks him better than when he first discovered his
complaint; and the length of time which it has now lasted is
unfavourable. I am sorry to write these bad tidings, but I have
always told you all ; and so now. . . . God's Will be done ! and
may He help and strengthen you, dearest, and turn your present
affliction into future joy. 'Heaviness lodgeth (with us) for the
night, and in the morning is joy.'
I have told you all I know ; I have been looking forward to
years in which Philip might mature for Eternity. I do not know
anything to the contrary now; but when Dr. Wootton left him
last night he said, in answer to my question, ' He is not worse,
but he is not better,' and that is bad (with emphasis).
And now, dearest wife, this is a sorrowful letter ; and it is one
trouble which you have from having cast in your lot with me, that
our children's lives are precarious at best; yet many a mother
might, if she knew the real state of things, gladly have our sickly,
and, if it please, and when it pleases God, our dying or dead son,
before their living one. However, though you ' must have trouble
in the flesh,' it will, I trust, all turn to increased dependence upon
His Fatherly Hand, and so increase of Glory. And when one
thinks of this for you, one forgets all the sorrow, as you one
day will.
God bless you, dearest. I thought of David, and so did not
like to go to the Chapter Dinner to-day, though I have not been
able to spend my time as David did.
My most affectionate and grateful duty and love to our
mother. Ever your very affectionate,
Attached, and grateful husband,
Edw.

1838.] MRS. PUSEY'S ILLNESS. 1 25
April 5, 1838.
It is strange how soon one becomes sanguine again. . . .
I fear you must have had a heavy day, to-day, dearest : it seems
so heavy a thing that you should have to bear it ; and so much
weight seemed discharged off my mind when you knew it. How
ever, it was not for this, but because we have made it a sort of rule,
that you should know all. ... I am not going to play any tricks,
but was obliged to be up till one last night. Schlaffen Sie wohl,
and Holy Angels guard thee !
He writes to her at this time of hearing his children say
their evening prayers, and seems to have thought almost
too gravely of any little childish fault, or wandering of
attention at prayers. Perhaps there was a want in him of
being able to enter into a child's mind, and their lack of the
power of concentration. He records of his little five years
old girl that she ' seemed penitent ' for having been naughty
in the morning : —
I went to console her as soon as I returned home yesterday,
but she was looking very composed and demure. Afterwards she
brought her knitting to my study, and . . . seeing her very
contented, I made a bad, or, rather, no playfellow. I do not find
it in me.
There is not much notice of failing health in Mrs.
Pusey's diary until, on Easter Monday, 1838 (April 16),
'Went to Fairford,' and on 18th 'Came to Clifton.' Two
days later she notes as her reading, ' Jeremy Taylor's Disce
Mori! Little more than a year remained to her in which
to learn that lesson ; she did not return home until, for
the last time, September 14th. Her husband took her
and the children to Clifton, but, until the Long Vacation,
could only be with her for a few days at a time, and the

126 ALONE AT CHRIST CHURCH.
condition of their boy made it the harder for him to leave
his wife.
I could not leave you in ignorance of what seems to hang over us
(he wrote to Newman from Clifton), or let you hear it from a
chance hand. A letter which Dr. Wootton sent open by us to
the physician here conveyed to us far more definite knowledge of
the ground of apprehension, and of the hopelessness of the
restoration of our dear boy, than we had derived from what he
said to us. . . . Alas ! how many parents, if they knew all, would
thankfully exchange their strong children for our dying one. . . .
Maria got through her journey very well.
In another note from Clifton he consulted his friend as
to whether, in the case of two sick sisters in their house,
neither of whom could be moved, without danger, into the
other's room, and yet not within hearing, ' he should think
it in accordance with the principles of our Church, admin
istering the Sacrament in one room, to carry the elements
to the other, during the service ; ' adding, ' it seems
unnatural to separate them.'
It was not the least of the sorrows gathering round Dr.
Pusey at this time that he did not think it right to absent
himself much from Oxford before the Long Vacation,
returning to his lonely home on April 30th. He wrote to
his wife on his journey, from Whitchurch : —
Indeed, dearest, it is a sad thing to have to choose to go away,
and makes the balance heavier on my side; your dear tears
grieved me, in that it seemed as if I might have saved them,
though I thought I ought not. Christ Church, May 9, 1838.
It is grievous to us both that we should think differ
ently about my duty ; but in these days, in which a handle is made of

1838.I WEYMOUTH. I27
everything against the University and the Church, I should be sorry
to give a handle by being non-resident. We have no reason to think
that there might not be just the same claim, or rather a stronger one,
after the Long Vacation, or even after Christmas, as there is now.
Dr. Wootton has just been here. . . . [his] visit brought back
to me former times, when we used to ask him to stay to tea — times
' when the lamp of God shined on our head,' when our children
were about us (Job xxix.) and it seemed likely we should have these
olive-branches in abundance ; now we seem to be likely to be
empty; however, when the lamp goes out He can lighten our
darkness, as He must once, when our own lamp goes out, so
blessed be His Name : but one must not look back ; ' lead Thou
us on.' He returned to Clifton on May 12, in order to move
his family to Weymouth, and reported to Newman —
I found my invalids better. . . . Maria stronger, though her
increased cough makes her doubtful about herself. I look
sanguinely forward, different physicians having said since the
winter that nothing was the matter with her chest. Everybody
speaks of the great healthiness of this place, so I look forward to
passing the summer and early autumn here. . . .
I am sorry that we are to lose Marriott, though for a time ;
people say that fish who keep out of the way of your deep net
sometimes venture over near to Marriott, and are caught unawares.
On the 1 6th Mrs. Pusey noted, 'Edward taken ill.
Up all night.' Mr. Newman wrote to him, May 20, in
great distress at the tidings : —
Do stop at Weymouth. ... It will be quite necessary for
Mrs. Pusey. Really I am so very much distressed for her too,
for of course yours increases her illness. . . . Faussett to-day has
fired offa sermon against us as leading to Popery.
Dr. Pusey, however, was well enough to move to
Weymouth on May 22, and having settled his family there,

128 MISSIONARY PROJECTS.
returned to Oxford on the 28th. He wrote to his wife on
June 2, of the possible publication of Dr. Faussett's
sermon : —
It will be a trouble to John, if it is, and add to the confusion,
and check the spread of right principles, but only like a healthful
frost. ... St. Cyprian's collations are to go on in right earnest.
We had one superior person who volunteered, and Fred found
four others who are going to work gratis ; it is very nice to see
people so ready to give their time for such objects. It need not
be sad that you part with St. Cyprian, dearest ; they can do it
with far less toil, and, if it pleases God that you should have your
strength again, the Commentary will be just the work for you, and
one which you will succeed in, if you do not despond.
He shared with her the plans which occupied him
much this year for furthering missionary efforts, abroad
and at home — in the latter by colleges of celibate clergy.
I have been talking to some people about reviving that plan
of Dr. Burton's for exhibitions here for the education of mis
sionaries to go to India, and I have a little pet plan of our having
a missionary of our own, or rather that we might give up one of
the two upper rooms to a person . . . who might be educated
here for a missionary. The want of men for missionaries is
greater than that of funds.
The more I think of Froude's plan ' (he wrote to Newman),
the more it seems to me the only one, if anything is to be done
for our large towns. ... I had come to the same conclusion for
missionaries, that they ought not to be married men. As he says,
the exhibition of the domestic graces is not enough to make an
impression upon persons in such a state.
How rapidly such foundations spread (he says in another
letter) ; our country had once more of them than any other, so I
1 Hurrell Froude had written of it in 1833 as the best way ' of providing
effectively for the spiritual wants of a large population.'

1838.] LETTERS TO MRS. PUSEY. 1 29
hope the root remains in the ground. ... I cannot help thinking
we should in time have splendid contributions. ... It might at all
events ameliorate the heathenish state of our great towns, and
correct the stupidity with which people look on at such skeletons
of the true fabrics. One clergyman where there ought to be a
Bishopric. . . . One College of Clergy founded for a large town
is a great speaking fact. Christ Church, June 5, 1838.
I went over to William's in the morning ;. he had left
his pony carriage for me, without consulting me, and gone back
with his wife in a fly. I did not see much of him, for the pony was
an hour and a half in going over, so I only arrived (waiting for
the post, and to finish my sermon till 9 ; I did not expect a letter,
but should have been sorry that one should have lain here all
day) twenty minutes before n. In church from n to 1.30 (no
sermon, but a great deal of singing, besides the Communion) ;
administered the Communion to a sick person ; luncheon (which
was my breakfast), and finished my sermon. In church from
(nominally) 3.30 till 5 ; two baptisms and churching, sermon
three quarters of an hour; administered the Communion to
another sick person. Dinner 6.45 to 7.30; teaching young women
in church ; left at 20 minutes to 9. In Cowley met an old woman
who had put down two heavy bundles in the mud, which she
could carry no further; carried them, lost our way, scrambled
through a gap ; in getting down a like place, she got a tremendous
fall, and after walking up and down Cowley and losing my scarf,
gave sixpence to a person to direct her and carry her bundles,
and got home at 11, instead of 10.
... I doubt not, whenever you think of  you pray for
her, but still a great blessing seems to be attached to continual,
repeated prayers ; it seems to be giving somehow a glory to God,
to which He sees fit to give an especial blessing. . . . June 9.
I thought of keeping this letter until to-morrow, that it
might reach you on that blessed day which, ten years ago (strange
K

130 LONG VACATION AT WEYMOUTH.
to think), made us one ; but it were a bad preparation for it to
disappoint you the day before, so I will send this to-day, and
since I may not be with you on that day, will write again then.
And, dearest, we will, if it please God, use the prayers of the dear
service at 9 o'clock, that being a time when we are likely to be
free. And God grant that on entering on a new period of our
married life we may in all things help each other on, that so we
may appear with joy in His presence. . . . Though your account
is chequered, I am very thankful that, at least, your peace of mind
has been unchequered, for, with the anxieties you have had, it
shows that the ' dew of Hermon ' has fallen round about you. I
am thankful also to hear that your cough has become better
during the fine weather; . . . you must take care of your dear
self, not only for mine and children's sake, but that by writing
Commentary you may benefit children's children, and be an
example to others.
Dr. Pusey rejoined his family at Weymouth for the
Long Vacation on June 27, and found his wife better. ' It
seems like a break in the clouds,' he had written early
in the month of an improved account of her health, and
the improvement seems to have continued for a few weeks,
for her diary records : 'June 22 — Rode to Dorchester. 24,
Sunday — Twice to church.' But on July 19 her husband
could only report to Newman : —
Maria is very weak in health ; an expedition which we made
to Portland in honour of Lucy's birthday on the 17 th has quite
knocked her up ever since.
Dr. W  thinks the children better, and that in Philip the
disease has abated, rather. One knows not what to think, except
that one should not think onward.
It is curious on coming to such a place as this to realize what
strange half-suspicions people have of us, not thinking us quite so
bad as we are represented to be, but still not knowing what to
make of us. However, three or four clergy, besides those of the

1838.] BISHOP BAGOT'S CHARGE. 131
place and Menzies, have called on me, so my stay may perhaps
be turned to good account.
In August Dr. Pusey lost one of his most indus
trious and valuable sub-workers, his assistant Hebrew
lecturer and friend, the Rev. B. Harrison, through the
latter accepting, by Dr. Pusey's advice and with his
warm approval, the post of Examining Chaplain to the
Archbishop of Canterbury. 'Your presence about the
Archbishop and in London,' Dr. Pusey wrote to him, ' may
be of great service to us. Catholicity, as you know, has
few representatives enough in London — no one, I suppose,
among the clergy, except Dodsworth and your brother-
in-law.' Only to think of his being the Archbishop's Chaplain (Dr.
Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble). I hope he will do a great deal of
good; it is the more satisfactory as the Archbishop is aware,
between ourselves, that he shall be regarded as thereby giving his
'unqualified sanction to our views and opinions,' which he does
not altogether, though he named you, N., and myself, as having
a great respect and regard for us.
During this Long Vacation at Weymouth, Dr. Pusey
was much taken up by the distress which Bishop Bagot's
Charge, in August, had occasioned to Newman, and in
which, to some degree, he himself shared, though feeling
that his friend took an exaggerated view in thinking the
Bishop's words ought 'to stop the Tracts, and recall those
which were in circulation.' Newman acknowledged the
extreme mildness of the Bishop's expressions, who had
said in his Charge that in the Tracts 'were expressions
which might be dangerous to certain minds,' while com
mending the general line of their teaching. But Newman

132 NEWMAN'S DISTRESS.
took ' a Bishop's lightest word ex cathedra ' as ' heavy,' and
wrote to his friend in deep distress.
Some divergence in their view of things appears at
this time. Dr. Pusey could not agree that the Bishop's
words ought to lead to ' suppressing the Tracts, and
thereby perplexing people so sadly,' though perceiving
that ' the disapprobation will, of course, be considered as
extending much beyond what it does.'
Everybody will construe it to mean just what he wishes. . . .
But my firm persuasion is that the Bishop never read, perhaps
never saw, the Tracts; that he has had certain expressions quoted to
him in anonymous letters, and meant to get rid of his anonymous
friends, speak out, and give us a caution.
To a letter from Dr. Pusey on the subject, the Bishop
replied in the kindest manner. The whole correspondence
is given in the ' Life,' x and is very instructive reading,
both from the deference to the Bishop and reverence for
his office, which breathes in every word written by the two
friends, and the Bishop's extreme kindness and anxiety in
no way to wound or discourage them.a He wrote to
Newman that he did not believe he could have heard
accurately what he said in his Charge ; tells him that ' a
hasty withdrawal would undo much good which has been
done by these Tracts,' and that —
when I approved so much, censured nothing, and only lamented
things which from ambiguity of expression might, I feared, by
1 Vol. ii. chap. xxi.
* In a note in the previous May, about a difficulty as to a title for Mr.
James Mozley, whom Dr. Pusey was anxious should be ordained, Bishop Bagot
wrote : ' With the full confidence, however, which I have in any recommenda
tion of yours, I feel quite at liberty to receive, as a friend of yours, any person
whom I choose, without a title. ... In this way I shall be willing and happy
to ordain your friend. . . . Yours is an especial case, the young man having
lived so long under your own roof."

1838.] BISHOP BAGOT'S KINDNESS. 1 33
Others be misunderstood or misrepresented, ... I little thought
I could have given pain.
To the Bishop Dr. Pusey wrote of his sense of the
weight of any slightest censure from him, ' for to you,' he
adds, ' as the Bishop of the Cathedral to which I belong,
I do owe obedience, and any faint hint of your lordship's
I ought to comply with.' He also reminded the Bishop
that the Tractarians had, by teaching 'high doctrines
of the Episcopal office, and of obedience to it,' put
into their opponents' hands a weapon which they would
certainly use by calling upon the Bishops to silence the
Tractarians, and that 'every expression' in the Charge
would be caught at, and stretched probably beyond its
meaning. The Bishop replied, expressing pleasure at the oppor
tunity of writing to him, whom he ' felt to be rendering
essential service to the cause of true religion ; ' adding that
his words concerning the Tracts, which he should be
' exceedingly sorry to see called in or discontinued,' were
'a friendly admonition' to their 'anonymous authors . . .
to use extreme caution in these writings, and revise care
fully, lest their good should be evil spoken of.' . . . ' I
look on them (the Tracts) as treatises well adapted to
elicit truth, and as drawn up with perhaps as little
admixture of error or infirmity as could reasonably be
expected in so large ... a work.'
Mr. Keble took entirely Dr. Pusey's view of the
matter, and in a note of September 8, congratulated him
on all ' having passed off so comfortably,' adding, ' I
thought it impossible the Bishop could mean so much as
N. at first seemed to think.'

134 MRS- PUSEY'S ILLNESS.
The anxiety caused by Mrs. Pusey's condition did not
lessen. ' She has been more ill the last fortnight,' her
husband wrote to Mr. Keble (July 31, 1838), 'though just
before that we had the satisfaction of a visit from Dr.
Wootton, who said that the chest was not affected. Early
in August Miss Rogers came to spend a week with her
former pupil, whose diary notes increased illness, confining
her to her bed from the 8th till the 15th, when 'Miss
Rogers and Mary left for Clifton.'
Still Dr. Pusey does not appear to have been seriously
alarmed. ' Sadly ill ' was his report to Newman on August
9th. ' However, everything seems to show that there is no
organ yet affected.' August 16.
We parted yesterday with our little Mary, who was too
much for her strength ; happily, her former governess, a friend, now
keeps a school ; so she is gone under her special care, not as to
school.
To Rev. John Keble.
AllgUSt 2 2, 1838.
My 38th birthday. It seems time to have done more, and
more evenly. . . . This place, though it has suited the children
wonderfully, has not suited Maria, and she has now been confined
to the house for some time, in consequence of a bad feverish
attack, the result of cold caught.1 She is now getting gradually
better, though much pulled down. . . . We are now pretty well
1 To his son, who was going to Weymouth, Dr. Pusey wrote, March
29. 187S : ' Weymouth used to be a dreary place, part protected, part
open to keen winds. It was there that your dear mother caught the chill
which ended in our losing her out of sight. The consumption set in there.
She had no seeds of it.'

1838.] RECOVERY PRONOUNCED HOPELESS. 1 35
fixed to return by Bath, to leave our eldest girl in the care of a
friend, Maria being no longer equal to the charge.
. . . Another cold, increased cough (he writes to Newman,
September 9th). We have taken the inside of the coach from
Bath to Oxford for Friday next, so look to arrive there then. . . .
Mr. Newman had urged the expediency of a winter at
Malta, but his friend replied that Dr. Wootton had not
courage to recommend such a strong measure.
Mrs. Pusey writes in her diary, September 14 (Friday),
' Returned home on the 1 8th ; chest examined ; ' and on
the 23rd (Sunday), 'Sir James Clarke came.'
Here the diary ends. There is added in her daughter's
handwriting : ' This last entry in my mother's diaries is
written in a very shaky hand. Sir J. Clarke pronounced
her case hopeless ; though she lived for eight months.'
After seeing Sir James Clarke, Dr. Pusey sent a note
over to Oriel : —
Things remain much as they were. Sir J. Clarke . . . says
that persons who have been more ill have recovered, and that
there are none of the worst symptoms. He joins with Dr. W. in
recommending us to stay here.
A second note was sent later in the day, probably
after seeing Dr. Wootton alone : —
Sir James Clarke did not like to tell me the truth. He does
not think that (humanly speaking, since all things are possible to
God) Maria can recover, nor that it will be one of those illnesses
which last on for two or three years, although it may be some
months yet.
I told her of the prospect this morning (Dr. Pusey wrote the
next day to Mr. Harrison), and as soon as she understood it she
said, with a calm smile, ' Then I shall be so blessed, and God can

136 LETTER FROM LADY LUCY PUSEY.
make you happy.' A calm came over her which was no result of
effort or thought, but which came immediately from God.
Yet again hope sprang up. In a note probably written
a week later to Newman he says : —
An examination to-day showed that the disease had made no
progress since we left Weymouth. So that while things remain
very alarming in themselves it looks like an earnest of mercy, and
that the prayers of my friends may yet be heard.
She seems to have begun at once to make her little
preparations for those she was leaving, and to have written
to Lady Lucy, whose favourite daughter-in-law she was.
The reply may not be omitted. October 2, 1838.
My dear Daughter, — ... I cannot promise to wear the
pincushion ; I shall prize it too much. I have now by me a purse
which you net for me and which I thought too nice for use, and
how much more must I value this token of your love when made
under such circumstances ?
I will take care of the two pieces of your work, and will give them
to Mrs. Barker when I have the opportunity ; but now, my very dear
daughter, what shall I say to the next part of your letter ? Only
the simple truth, that I have ever found my connection with you
a comfort to myself; that I can in no wise recollect any instance
in which you have spoken to me in the manner you think that you
may have done, but, on the contrary, you have always been
affectionate and kind to me, and now that I have cause to fear
that tie may be dissolved (though from your pious frame of mind,
I cannot doubt that it will be attended with a blessing to yourself,
and therefore for your sake I must not regret it, yet) I shall deeply
feel my own personal loss, as well as that you will be to others ;
and I wish you to believe that should it, at any time, be in my
power to be of any use to your children, I should have a gratifica
tion in being so, not only as I am in duty bound, as belonging to

1838.] LETTER TO MR. KEBLE. 1 37
my son, but for their mother's sake also. . . . May it please the
Almighty to mitigate your sufferings and to support you under any
trials that may await you, and may the blessing of God attend you,
and believe me, My dear daughter, Your truly affectionate, Lucy Pusey.
I hope I have not written you too long a letter. ... I shall
enclose it to Edward to give you when he thinks best. Once
more, God bless you, and believe that I have always loved you.
E. B. P. to Rev. John Keble.
October 3, 1838.
I do not know how to thank you for all your kindness
and remembrance of me and mine, and your prayers. I knew how
you would feel for me, and that you would pray for me, but this
detail of your concern and of the subject of your prayers for me
was more than I deserved. However, we are not dealt with
according to our deserts. So I trust to be made thankful for this
and everything. Yet you had comforted me before, and it may
be an earnest how many besides you have been the means of
comforting ; for scraps of the ' Christian Year,' ' When the shore
is won at last,' and 'Gales from heaven, if so He will,' and
' Who says, the wan autumnal sun ' — as they occurred to me, have
been a great comfort and will be, amid whatever He sees best
to send. A sort of hope (though against hope) has risen, I scarcely know
how or whence ; except that it is not impossible, and God has
often done great things when many prayed for it, as I know to
be the case now ; and so go on now from day to day, not knowing
and scarcely thinking what shall be, but wishing to be thankful
for the present comforts; and for the future ' the Lord will provide.'
Meanwhile I have every comfort; my dear wife does not at present
suffer, and in mind is ' in perfect peace.'

CHAPTER VIII.
BEREAVEMENT.
1839.
Sleep on, my Love, in thy cold bed
Never to be disquieted !
My last good night ! Thou wilt not wake
Till I thy fate shall overtake :
Till age, or grief, or sickness must
Marry my body to that dust
It so much loves ; and fill the room
My heart keeps empty in thy tomb. Henry King.
The proposal for the 'Martyrs' Memorial' at Oxford
caused a good deal of trouble during the winter of 1838-39,
as Dr. Pusey and others could not join in the line taken
by its promoters, and yet knew that their standing aloof
would swell the cry of Romanism against their teaching.
He felt strongly the truth of Mr. Keble's words in a letter
to him of January 18, 1839 : —
I cannot understand how poor Cranmer could be reckoned a
bona fide martyr according to the rules of the Primitive Church.
. . . Did he not in the very final paper of his confession profess
himself to hold in all points the doctrine of that answer to
Gardiner ? And is not that doctrine such as the ancient Church
would have called heretical ?

1839.I 'LETTER TO THE BISHOP OF OXFORD.' 1 39
Dr. Pusey greatly wished to substitute, for the proposed
Memorial, a church for a destitute population in St. Ebbe's
parish at Oxford, and wrote to Mr. Keble (January 24), that
he knew privately that it was 'just what the archbishop
would prefer, (1) to set ourselves straight with the coun
try, and open the way for right principles, (2) to protect
our friends in the country, who are now in a state of per
plexity, not knowing whether to join the Memorial or no.
I am,' he adds, 'just going to write a " Letter to the
Bishop of Oxford" explaining that we are not Papists.
What we thought of was trying to draw out the via media
between Popery and Ultra-Protestantism.'
The trouble, however, brought forth good fruit in this
' Letter ' addressed to the Bishop of Oxford,1 by his per
mission, which formed the first important apologia for the
position of the Tractarians, and of which four editions
appeared in twelve months.2
There is not much record of this last winter before the
blow fell which changed Dr. Pusey's whole life. His
correspondence with Mr. Keble shows that he was much
occupied with his letter to the Bishop of Oxford, and with
trying to define for himself and others the right line to
take with regard to the 'Martyrs' Memorial,' fearing to
appear ' to be in a false position, and to be insincere, taking
up the Reformation to gain popularity,' while on the other
hand expressing distinctly his belief that to it ' we owe our
peculiar position as adherents to primitive antiquity, besides
other blessings.'
1 An 8vo. of 239 pages.
* 'It is impossible for me to thank you sufficiently,' Dr. Hook wrote, 'for
your letter to my Lord of Oxford. It is calculated to do us here more good
than anything that has appeared for a long time.'

140 LETTERS TO NEWMAN.
Of his wife he reports to Mr. Keble (January 13, 1839),
still evidently unable to give up hope : —
Maria has been carried thro' the winter thus far, much more
favorably than I could have dared to hope; she has not lost
ground, altho' with frequent variations, is far better than she was
four months ago, so the immediate future is comfortable, and the
more distant one happily need not look to.
It is impossible to draw any picture of Dr. Pusey
during the months that followed — of his inner self under
the blow which shattered his earthly happiness — save by a
few extracts from his letters to Mr. Keble and Mr.
Newman. To Rev. J. H. Newman.
March 30, 1839.
I have been very heavy minded of late, but there seems
to spring up a ' light in the darkness,' whether it be one's own
natural sanguiness, or any real hope, or an indication that in ' the
evening there will be light,' He only knoweth. One looked to
spring when it was at a distance, but now that it is near at hand
one shrinks from it, because it is probably a last hope on this
side. Dr. W. thinks that she has been very slowly losing ground.
. . . However, spring may yet be the messenger of health, if so
He will, and it seemed once as if He would hear our friends'
prayers even in this way. . . . Maria begs her most affectionate
and grateful remembrance. April 7.
You will have heard from William Dr. W.'s hopeless
opinion. He does not speak more strongly than in September,
but things had been better, and seemed to have become worse.
He does not think that it can last till winter. However, the pro
longation has been a great mercy. We shall, I imagine, not leave
this place.

1839.I FADING HOPES. 141
In a postscript to this letter he alludes to the hopeless
illness of Mr. Bowden, Newman's great friend ; it is
notable that he should speak of lay good Churchmen as
being still ' few.'
It is grievous now about Bowden, and a mysterious dispensa
tion that we should lose one of our few lay friends (as, I fear, from
your note, one must expect), besides what he is personally.
The frequent notes sent to Oriel are full of matter
concerning work for the Library of the Fathers, etc. In
one undated he says he must not be depended on ;
— for at any time the increase of
dearest Maria's illness might prevent my doing anything. It
is increasing now very rapidly, although the close does not seem
at hand ; yet it is more likely that two or three months will now
close her life here.
One can write what one cannot speak; and so I would ask
you, when you remember me before God, to ask Him to forgive
me those sins for which, out of the usual course of His dealings,
He is taking from me in the midst of her years, one once so
strong.
To Rev. John Keble.
May 7, 1839.
You will sympathize with me that all hope of my dear
wife's restoration is gone; the last fortnight has made more
visible change than before, but ever since Easter week she has
been losing ground perceptibly. When Wilson was here I was
comparatively comfortable about it. It seems to me as if I had
forfeited a gift which was once on the point of being granted me.
You will pray for me that I may humbly and penitently resign
her to Him Who gave her to me, and that the sins may be forgiven
me for which, out of the usual course of His dealings, she, once
so strong, is taken from me.

142 ' SEASON OF HUMILIATION.'
To the Same. May 13, 1839.
I must thank you for your kind, soothing note. . . .
Thank you also for the hints which you give me ; one little knows
oneself till the full trial has come ; but I fear that my danger does
not lie that way. I much more fear that I should not act up to the
extent of this visitation than that I should feel it too bitterly. I
dread my own love of employment, if I have strength given. . . .
In a word, I find myself in the midst of a great dispensation of
God towards me, which ought to bring forth much fruit, and I
dread falling short of it. ... I wish you to pray for me rather
among the ' weak hearted,' or those who ' fall,' than among those
who ' stand.'
To Rev. J. H. Newman. May 14.
I have broken off my lectures to-day. Dr. W. saw
Maria . . . last night, and told me he thought it could not last
long. I asked whether a month ? He said he thought not ; so I
thought it best. This evening our little girls are arrived for a few
days, with the friend in whose care they are ; when they are gone
I mean, if the weather is fine, to walk quite early, between six and
seven, before Maria's day begins. It will leave me the day with
her, and solitude seems best fitted for a season of humiliation.
Hereafter, the walks with you may again become very soothing.
But pray ask me about anything which has to be settled.
To the Same. May 16, 1839.
Thank you;for your remembrance of us'; there is some
thing very soothing in this quiet, uniform life, expecting the end
without hopes or fears. Had it been ever so, one had not needed
perhaps this chastisement. Yet I cannot say that I yet realize
that end, or that I feel that I know what the trial will be.

1839J LETTERS TO NEWMAN. 1 43
From Rev.- J. H. Newman. [May 19?]
My dear Pusey, — I am afraid of intruding on you, and yet
I do not like the day to pass without your hearing from me. You
know, should you like me to walk with you in the morning,
there is no reason why I should not come to you at six as well as
any other time. You have but to send me a note overnight.
Hook has sent a message of inquiry about you, which I have
just now received.
Pray tell dear Mrs. Pusey that I am continually thinking of
her, and pray (what I doubt not) that you may have grace so to
part from each other that you may meet again in peace.
Ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.
To Rev. J. H. Newman. May 19, 1839.
Anything from you must always be soothing, as is so.
My six o'clock walk is at an end, for from four or five to seven in
the morning is now her time of greatest suffering. ... I am
afraid of misleading you, as if I felt better than I do ; yet I wish
this to be a season of penitence, and it seems unsuited to interest
one's self for the time on subjects which would otherwise interest
one (further than could be of any use), and on the one subject I
cannot speak. I seem, therefore, thank you, to be best alone. . . .
Our dear little girls left us yesterday. . . . Dearest Maria has
parted with every earthly care. Thanks, many thanks, for your
prayers for us, which we much prize, and feel to be a great
blessmg. Ever your affectionate friend,
E. B. Pusey.
May 20.
I met yesterday with a beautiful passage out of the
Roman Service for those in agone mortis. Have you the Service ?

144 DEATH OF MRS. PUSEY.
I wish to translate its prayers beforehand. Also, have you
Kettlewell's ' Companion to the Penitent ' in your library ?
Again Dr. Newman writes, a few hours before the
earthly end — In festo SS. Trin. (May 26), 1839.
My dear Pusey, — This, you will see, requires no answer. I
have nothing to say— only I wish you to remember that many
persons are thinking of you, and making mention of you, where
you wish to be mentioned. Do not fear you will not be strength
ened according to your day. He is nearest when He seems
farthest away. I heard from Keble a day or two since, and he
wished me to tell you they were thinking of you at Hursley.
This is a day especially sacred to peace — the day of the Eternal
Trinity, Who were all-blessed from eternity in Themselves, and
in the thought of Whom the mind sees the end of its labours ; the
end of its birth, temptations, struggles, and sacrifices, its daily
dyings and resurrections. Ever yours most affectionately,
John H. Newman.
To Rev. J. H. Newman.
[May 26, 1839.]
My dear Friend, — My dear wife is now approaching the
end of her earthly life. By to-morrow's sun she will be, by God's
mercy in Christ, where there is no need of the sun. Will you
pray for me that she may have in this life some foretaste of future
joy as well as peace? Ever your very affectionate friend, E. B. Pusey.
Lady Lucy Pusey was staying with her son when,
before sunset on Trinity Sunday, his wife, as her daughter
has written, ' passed away most peacefully in the drawing-
room, to which she had been moved.' Mr. Newman called

1839-1 LETTERS ON MRS. PUSEY'S DEATH. 145
at the door to ask for her when the St. Mary's service was
over, and found she was at rest.
To Miss Rogers. May 27.
My dear Friend, — I have little to add about the last hours
of your dear child's earthly life ; it was closed in mercy sooner
than we expected ; indeed, Dr. Wootton had not anticipated a
day or two before that it would have taken place this week,
although he said it might at any time. I administered the Com
munion to her between twelve and one that day; she felt her
end approaching more than we knew of; she wished it to be as
soon as it could; spoke but very little afterwards, and was
fatigued by even that short Service. Now all weariness is over,
and she serves Him day and night. She became more ill about
four, and spoke very few words afterwards ; she was moved out
of bed at her wish ; I think towards six I said the Commendatory
Prayer : she thanked me, and said she wished to be quiet for the
time. The next time I held her little cast of our Saviour before
her she could scarcely speak, but made a sign for quiet. After
that, I know not how long, she was conscious ; a little before her
departure I made upon her forehead the mark of the Cross, which
she loved, and gave the blessing, ' To God's mercy and protection
we commit thee,' but she did not open her eyes. She was engaged
in the struggle with her last enemy, who now is conquered.
' Thanks be to Him Who giveth us the victory.'
Ever your very faithful friend,
E. B. Pusey.
To Rev. B. Harrison. May 30.
God has throughout dealt very gently and mercifully
with me, slowly and tenderly, as it were, unloosing my hold of
her whom He had given me, and teaching me little by little to
resign her into His hands Who can provide better for her. And
L

146 BURIAL IN CHRIST CHURCH CATHEDRAL.
so now also He has been shedding round me a calm, which plainly
comes not from myself, and which surprises myself.
A slight momentary indisposition made us think it best that
my dear mother, who had come from London to bid her farewell,
should not leave us on Saturday, and so she has stayed on with
me, against my original plan, and her presence has been inexpres
sibly soothing ; so have Newman's visits, whom, with some
reluctance, I saw, at my mother's suggestion, an hour after I had
resigned her into our Father's Hands. And thus I have been
carried on through these four days. There remains one more
parting, out of sight, . on Saturday at eleven, when also you will
remember me.
On Saturday in Trinity week, June 1, the beloved
earthly tabernacle was laid in the grave, in the nave of
Christ Church Cathedral, where now lies all that is mortal
of him who in anguish followed it to that resting-place.
To Lucy and Mary Pusey.
June 5, 1839.
My dear Children, — I did not write to tell you on what
day dear mama's dear body was laid in the Cathedral, because I
thought it best for you not to know until afterwards. I wished
you chiefly to think of dear mama's blessed spirit, in her new
home, with the light of God's countenance, as we trust, shining
upon her. Yet it would be good for you, by-and-bye, to think
of her dear cold body too, as it lies in the Cathedral, with dear
sister Catherine's as it were in its arms, and looking upward to the
heavens, and with its face towards the east, where Jesus Christ
was when upon earth, and where we look to see Him again when
He comes to judge the world. ... It was a great comfort to me,
before it was placed there, to stand by it, and watch it and love
it. It did not look like your dear mama any longer, because her
spirit was gone, and that made a great change ; but it looked so
tranquil and so dignified in its perfect repose, that it was a pleasure
to look at it ; and it teaches us how we should be, or should try

1839.] LETTER TO LUCY AND MARY PUSEY. 147
to be, quite resigned to God's will, not having a will of our own,
but always calm and placid and still. This was what God seemed
to teach by it. ... I chose Saturday for the day upon which it
should be put into the Cathedral, because on that day our blessed
Lord was pleased that His Holy Body should lie in the grave for
us. And it is so that the Lesson for the Burial Service is the
second Lesson for that day, June 1, so that in future years you
may read that second Lesson, and think of dear mama's body
being laid ' in corruption,' being raised ' in glory,' ' in power,' ' a
spiritual body,' ' bearing the image of the heavenly,' that is, of our
Lord, as it is there written ; and you may learn to long for the
time, and to pray for it and to be with dear mama in glory. . . .
I am pretty well, though very tired and weak, so that I am glad
to lie down after walking for an hour, which I have begun to do
again. . . . God has been very merciful to me hitherto, and given
me the strength which I wanted, and supported me, day by day>
amid all which was sorrowful; and so I have great reason to
thank Him, and to trust Him for the future. I do not like to use
the word ' dead,' which dear Mary did, of dear mama ; because,
though dear mama did die, she is not dead, but more alive than
any of us, for she can praise God continually, night and day
whereas we become tired; and we have a great many things to
think about, and think about a great many things we need not,
and she has nothing to think about but God ; and we have many
troubles, and she has none ; and we have to fight against the Devil,
the World, and the Flesh, and she is at rest and has gotten the
victory, through Jesus Christ our Lord ; and so, since life is to
love God, she is much more alive than we, because she can love
God more and better.
I am sorry that I did not write to dear Mary upon her second
birthday,1 but I have now written a long letter, and dear Mary
will try the more to act as God's child, which she was then made,
that she may not be afraid to see Him, but may live with Him for
ever. God bless you, my dear children.
Ever your very affectionate father,
E. B. Pusey.
1 The sixth anniversary of her baptism, June 4.

148 LETTER TO MR. KEBLE.
To Rev. J. Keble.
June 5, 1839.
My dear Friend, — I thank you much for the soothing note
which you have just sent, as well as for your past and present
remembrance of us. One does feel in these times something of
the communion of saints ; only she is purified, I not. God has
been very merciful to me in this dispensation, and carried me on
step by step in a way I dared not hope. He sent Newman to me
(whom I saw at my mother's wish, against my inclination) in the
first hours of sorrow, and it was like the visit of an angel. I hope
to go on my way, ' lonely, not forlorn.'
E. B. P. to Lucy and Mary Pusey.
June 20, 1839.
My dear Children, — I have been delaying writing day by day,
in hopes of being able to say when I hope to meet you : . . . I
think of leaving home about July 1, and I hope to see you very
soon afterwards. ... It will be sad, so far, as it will be the first
time we ever met without dear mama ; but we must try to think
of dear mama's peace and rest, and about meeting her again,
where there is no more parting. ... I was very glad to hear
from you, for I hoped from your letters, and, indeed, heard from
kind Miss Rogers, that you are both trying to please God ; and
this is a great comfort to me. It is very joyous to think that all
the pains that dear mama took for you, when she was well enough,
should be doing you good now that she is gone, and preparing
you for heaven. Only you must go on steadily, and take more
and more pains.
Your Aunt Charlotte is to be married, I believe, on Tuesday
next, to a friend of mine, Dr. Cotton. He is a very good man,
and will take great care of her ; so I hope we may look forward
to her being happy in this life, and being prepared for another.
So you may think of her on Tuesday, and pray God that her
marriage may be a blessing to her. God bless you, my dear
children, Ever your affectionate father,
E. B. Pusey.

I839.I LETTER" TO MRS. BRINE. 149
E. B. P. to Miss Rogers.
I have been thinking about the place where you would
kindly spend the two months with the children, and think that if
I am able to bring Philip, a place in the south of Devonshire
would be the best. ... I shrink from Tenby, where we were
together, enjoying it exceedingly, ten years ago, and the long
solitary voyage ; but if there were any advantage in it, this feeling
would readily give way.
In a letter to his daughter on the death of her youngest
child, Dr. Pusey wrote (in January, 1879) : —
When God took your dearest mother I dared neither look
backward nor forward. I dared not look back to those eleven
years of scarce earthly happiness. Onwards life looked so dreary,
I could not bear to think of it. So I bound myself, as our Lord
bids us, to the day, and I resumed my work for God on the
Monday after that Saturday when her body was committed to its
resting-place. I used for some time (I know not how long) to
see, on my way to Cathedral prayers, the white of the pall wave
as it had waved with the wind on that Saturday at that particular
spot, and I used (as I have done since) to say a Collect for her as
I passed to and fro by her dear resting-place, and I kept the hour
when she gave her spirit to God. And so God kept me on day
by day. It seemed as if I was in deep water up to the chin, and
a hand was under my chin supporting it. I thought I could
never smile again. It was strange to me when I first smiled
amid you three at Budleigh Salterton. Many felt very lovingly
for me ; but it was too deep for sympathy. It was all on the
surface, and the wound was deep down below. I remember
when dear J. K. came first to see me I turned the subject
and spoke of other things. He wrote and said he must have
been very wanting. I said ' it was my own doing, I could not
bear it.' So I lived on, my real self sealed up, except when
I had to sympathize with deep sorrow, and then I found that

ISO LETTER TO ARCHDEACON DODGSON.
my letters were of use, just because I owned the human hope
lessness.1 But then, my dearest Mary, it must be only ' human ' hopeless
ness. Since God chasteneth whom He loveth, the deeper the
chastening the deeper the love.
It were hard, even now, for those who loved and love
him, to read of such desolating affliction, but for the
thought of what it has worked for him.
I have often thought (he wrote to Archdeacon Dodgson on his
wife's death in 185 1), since I had to think of this, how, in all
adversity, what God takes away He may give us back with
increase. One cannot think that any holy earthly love will cease
when we shall be like the angels of God in heaven. Love here
must shadow our love there, deeper because spiritual, without any
alloy from our sinful nature, and in the fulness of the love of God.
But as we grow here by God's grace will be our capacity for
endless love ; so then, if by our very sufferings we are purified,
and our hearts enlarged, we shall, in that endless bliss, love more
those whom we loved here than if we had never had that sorrow,
never been parted.
But the fulfilment, now attained, of his deep earthly
love must have seemed far off at this time.
It is now twenty-one years (Dr. Newman wrote, May 27, 1839)
since Pusey became attached to his late wife, when he was a boy.
For ten years after he was kept in suspense, and eleven years ago
1 Even before his own loss his letters had this power to uplift others in
deep sorrow. One who had lost his wife wrote to him at this time : ' Of all
the letters I received from my friends when it pleased the Almighty to lay on
me the same burthen which you are now called upon to tear there was not
one from which I derived so much comfort as that which came from yourself.
. . . You recommended me not to look forward into a lonely future, but
merely to fix my mind on that which might arise from day to day, committing
myself to Him Who knows what is best for us. ... I received many letters
from good and able men at the time, but this one piece of practical, and, I may
say, Christian advice far surpassed every other suggestion.'

1839.I SELF-REPROACH. 151
he married her. Thus she had been the one object on earth in
which his thoughts had centred for the greater part of his life.
He had not realized till lately that he was to lose her.
The story of those ten years of suspense is, in others'
eyes, a record of dutiful submission to his father such as few
sons of his age would have shown, of constant care for the
welfare of his family, of unremitting toil, ever with a view
to prepare himself for the highest work, first at Oxford
and afterwards carried on in Germany to an excess which
endangered his life, and of sweetness and kindness in his
intercourse with others, high and low, which everywhere
won for him warm friendship and love.
But he himself looked back to that time with self-
reproach. In 1835, writing to his wife ofthe danger of
remembering without sorrow any time of special sinfulness,
he had said : —
Thus, with regard to myself, had the ten years during which I
loved you before we were one been years in which I had patiently
waited God's will, then I might have had a right to refer to them
with joy; as it is, shame ought to mix itself with the joy and
thankfulness that God did, notwithstanding, bestow you on me ;
and so, though one may refer to it with gratitude, for any good
end (as formerly to convince you that I must increasingly love
you), yet I could not, without doing harm to myself, refer to it
without the solemn memory of past sinfulness.
To have formed a passionate attachment at seventeen,
only deepened by ten years of obstacles and separation, is
not common, still less was the effect of his wife's death on
his future life. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of his
two chief friends against his taking it as a special chastise
ment, he did so consider it. As at his little Catherine's

152 RETIREMENT FROM SOCIETY.
death, so now, with ever-increased intensity he turned
inwards to seek the causes of God's dealings with him.
He had written to Mr. Newman, a week before his wife's
death, of wishing 'this to be a season of penitence/ and
now he chose penitential retirement as his life's portion.
He withdrew entirely from society, refusing all invitations
to dinner ; taking his bereavement as a call to withdraw
from the world ; and, as Dr. Liddon wrote, 'whether rightly
or not, he never returned to it' Yet, from the very first,
his hospitality never failed. Having arranged with Miss
Rogers to bring his little girl to meet Philip and himself
at Budleigh Salterton, in Devonshire, and to remain with
them during the holidays, he wrote to her (June 20), ' I
hope that you will bring any of your young charges, for
whom you think the sea desirable.'
Miss Rogers, Lucy, and I had gone to Budleigh Salterton
from Clifton (his daughter writes), and my father had gone to
Brighton to fetch Philip from school. They were to come by
coach along the south coast and join us. For three days we
heard nothing of them, and our governess became frightened.
They had had a frightful accident, of which he wrote
to Miss Rogers : — Arundel, July 3 (Wednesday).
My dear Friend, — We shall not arrive now until after you,
being detained by what, but for God's mercy, would have been a
very bad, and indeed a fatal, accident. We came on the outside
(there being no room in). I took Philip on my knee to show him
Arundel Castle, was putting him back, the coach turned, and we
fell off on our heads. I fell perpendicularly, and first ; my hat
was made the means of breaking my fall ; Philip fell on his fore
head ; he was insensible, I not ; the people around said, ' The

1839-1 DANGEROUS ACCIDENT. 1 53
child is killed,' and I thought so, until, a little after, I heard him
cry ; but he still recollects nothing of what took place till after
wards. I never quite lost myself, and, indeed, supported, walked
upstairs. We have both been gradually recovering. . . .
We may very possibly proceed on our journey on Friday, and
so arrive at Budleigh Salterton possibly on Saturday ; but it may
be too much, or we may not set off.
The little ones, I doubt not, will of themselves thank God for
preserving us. Those who saw it said that it was a ' very frightful
accident,' the surgeon's expression was that ' it was a miracle that
we were not both killed.'
I will write again if we stay here beyond Friday ; otherwise
it may be difficult to let you hear. . . .
Give my blessing and our love to the little ones.
Ever your very faithful friend,
E. B. Pusey.
To his brother William he wrote : —
Budleigh Salterton, July 9, 1839.
Dearest Lucy is quite subdued, patient, gentle, unre-
pining, unselfish, but completely struck down ; she feels and bears
her loss just as one three times her age might. ... It would seem
as if it had been permitted that her dear mind should be thus
early developed in order that this dispensation might not pass off,
as it would with most of her years, but that it may be blessed to
her. She seems to have ceased to be a child, never again to be
one. ... It may be that God is ripening her early, to close her
trials soon ; it seems most probable : one has no claim to expect
anything else. . . . Dear little Mary seems quite well again ; her
buoyant spirits are a great contrast to her sister's subdued frame ;
but it is all natural in her.
Poor Philip is lame as well as deaf, yet he enjoys being drawn
in a chair.
During the Vacation, Dr. Pusey was, as usual, full of
work for the Library of the Fathers amongst other things,

154 LETTER TO NEWMAN.
and assisting Mr. Keble in his metrical version of the
Psalms.
To Rev. J. H. Newman.
B[udleigh] S[alterton], July 16, [1839].
My dearest Friend, — God bless and reward you for all your
love and tender kindness towards us. I received day by day my
share of it, with little acknowledgment, for words failed one, and
one is stopped by a sort of alSus from thanking to the face for
great kindness. Your first visit, ' in the embittered spirit's strife,'
was to me like that of an angel sent from God : I shrank from it
beforehand, or from seeing any human face, and so I trust that I
may the more hope that it was God's doing. It seems as though
it had changed, in a degree, the character of my subsequent life :
and since it was quite unexpected, and without any agency of my
own, I hope it is His will that it should be so, and that He will
keep me in the way in which, as I hope, He brought me. God
requite you for it all. It is a selfish wish to wish that one's
prayers were better than they are : yet I hope that He will hear
them, not according to their and my imperfections, but according
to the greatness of the reason which I have to offer them, and
according to His great mercy. I pray that He may make you
what, as you say, there are so few of, ' a great saint,' and I hope
that He may give me tco i<r)(a.Tco tottov cct^cltov extl ro tous iroSas
croS «at tUv ckXektSv auroS, to use Bishop Andrewes's words nearly.
You cannot tell how much reason I have to long for but tojtos
Ecrxaros : if one did but realize it oneself ! . . . Lucy and Philip
send you their love and thanks for your kind present. . . . She
has been getting stronger and more animated, and tenderly cheer
ful ; one thought is uppermost in her mind. Everything connects
itself with the memory of her mother, and there is a deeply-seated
longing to be fitted to see her in glory. I gave her out of the
Lyra ' Weep not for me ' as an answer to her question, ' whether
the saints in Paradise (it is her wording) knew what we were
doing here.' ... I venerate Williams1 more, whatever of his
1 Rev. Isaac Williams.

1839.] LETTERS TO NEWMAN AND KEBLE. 1 55
I read. He seems to have a special office for these days, impart
ing to them his own soberness and humility, where one's self
would be exciting them. Whenever I come across him, I find
him at the root, and myself on the surface. The immediate
occasion of these thoughts is his Tract on the Prayer-book.

To the Same.
August 4, 1839.
I saw Medley several times while he was here. He
seems a very nice person, and will do good, I hope, in Exeter ;
he fears about the middling classes ; he says the higher, he has
found, soon understand us, when we explain ourselves ; but that
the middle, with their horror of popery, have a fear also of being
priest-ridden. . . . Mjc. Bartholomew,1 with whom I had one long
talk, speaks very encouragingly of the progress of things (as does
Oakeley among the lawyers). Mr. B. speaks from his experience
as examining chaplain. . . . The Bishop of Exeter has been
praising the Tracts of the clergy, but speaking against ' Reserve.'
. . . Mr. Bartholomew approved of every syllable of a sermon of
mine which disturbed a High Church lady for fear I was inculcating
transubstantiation, though I had spoken against it and consub
stantiation by name, that I might be safe.
To Rev. John Keble.
August 13, 1839.
Indeed your visits were, I hope, not ' unprofitable ; '
that they did not bear more directly upon my chastisement was
my own doing; Newman had been brought to me, like the visit
of an angel, in the first hour of agony, and to him I had, in a
degree, discharged my mind ; and having so done, it seemed to
have closed again, so that I could not begin speaking upon it. I
1 The Rev. C. C. Bartholomew, Vicar of Cornwood, near Ivybridge. He
became one of Dr. Pusey's closest friends ; there is a letter from him in 1882,
beginning, ' My dearest friend,' amongst those kept by Dr. Pusey, telling him
of happiness in the character of his four sons. He died in 1887.

156 VISIT TO BRIGHTON.
seemed to see what I was to do, if I could but do it ; at least I
have the general line marked out ; and so, having no advice to
ask, I shunned speaking of it, and I have written very little of it.
I fear to mislead by saying a little, perhaps I should mislead you
were I to say much, so I only wish my friends to adopt the words
of the ' Christian Year,' ' Wish not, dear friends, my pain away,' it
were better for me to feel it deeper every way.
I only wish them to pray for me that I may not lose at least
such fruits of the chastening as may be needful for me.
You will be kindly glad to hear that our two little girls have
decidedly benefited by their residence here, and poor Philip's
health has something improved, altho', if he is continued here, he
will, for some years probably, lie between life and death. The
little girls are also, at any time, on the verge ; so that any indis
position might be the messenger to tum the scale. ' It is the
Lord ; let Him do as seemeth Him best.' He has deeply blest
their dear mother's unwearied pains, so that if they are early called
to bliss, it will be in mercy to them.
You could do me a kind office when next you write to your
brother ; it is to ask Mrs. T. Keble to put down the names of any
nice books which she found useful for the ages of six and
onwards. They are beyond their age. Lucy has been for some
time well read in the ' Christian Year,' and in the last volume of
Newman's Sermons, and Mary (the youngest) is a very quick
child. Writing to Newman (August 27), as to future meetings
of the Theological Society, he says : —
I shrink, at present, from anything which involves a return to
former habits ; and opening one's own house in the evening would
involve all sorts of business, visiting, etc. ; one could hardly
consistently avoid it.
On September 2, Dr. Pusey and his children left
Budleigh Salterton and spent six weeks with Lady Lucy
at Brighton, where he renewed his acquaintance with the

1839-1 LETTER TO REV. H. VENN ELLIOTT. 157
Rev. H. Venn Elliott, a leading Evangelical clergyman, to
whom he sent his Tract on Baptism, and wrote at the
same time that he knew that upon some of the points he
had specially urged 'as having been forgotten by this
generation,' Mr. Elliott's belief was different ; and that he
did not expect ' to influence one whose opinions had been
long formed.'
Our position seems to me far the happiest and the safest, in
that we are not the assailants ; we (to speak compendiously)
look upon your views as imperfect, that you have taken up a
portion of the truth only, and so, that if you receive the whole,
your views must, of necessity, be modified ; but we have no occa
sion to speak against yours; if what we are assured is Catholic
Truth be received, it must modify your system, and, indeed, is
doing so.
The Bishop of London wrote to him (September 3,
1839), asking him for a few lines to tell him about himself
and his children, and assuring him of his sympathy and
prayers. He adds : —
You will be glad to learn that my great project, to the success
of which you so materially contributed, is going on prosperously.
. .- . Altogether I expect that we may calculate upon forty new
churches, even if no more money should be raised. But we have
not yet taught our nobility, nor our merchants and bankers, how
to give. Yet the Church will teach them the lesson by God's
blessing, gradually. 20, Marine Square, Brighton, September n.
I had a very pleasant interview with J. Watson on
Saturday. He is staying here ; . . . and I was delighted to find
him taking altogether the same views as ourselves, so far; it was
quite refreshing to hear an old man speaking the same things

158 CRUSADE AGAINST LUXURY.
clearly and calmly, it seemed to link us on so visibly with past
generations and that we were teaching no other than had been
delivered to us. He asked after you, and, naming Keble, said, ' I
do not like prefixing the title (Mr.) to his, or Newman's, or your
name. . . .'
Pusey . . . has been preaching to breathless congregations at
Exeter and Brighton (Newman wrote to Mr. Bowden in October).
Ladies have been sitting on the pulpit steps, and sentimental
paragraphs have appeared in the papers — in the Globe. Fancy ! l
It was doubtless to these sermons that Dr. Pusey
alluded when writing to Newman, September n, of
— the crusade against pearls, gold, and costly array,
which I have been in some degree engaged in; the jewels of
the ladies in London would build all the churches wanted, and
endow them too, I believe ; we must preach them into the
' treasury,' and silver dishes into the smelting pot, some day, else
we shall never get the funds we want, nor the simplicity of
Churchmen. However, this may be by-and-bye; if you make
Churchmen they will melt the silver dishes gladly, and one must
not get into the error of the Low Church, of going to the
branches, instead of the root; yet breaking off jewels, or melting
a service of plate, would be a good, decided act.
He returned to Oxford about the middle of October,
'in appearance much better.' Mr. Newman wrote from
Oriel, October 20, ' It is no exaggeration to say he is a
" Father " in the face and aspect'
Pusey preached last Sunday (Mr. J. D. Mozley wrote,
November 24, to his sister), the first time in Oxford since his wife's
death. When he came to the last sentence of the prayer before
the sermon, in which the dead are mentioned, he came to a com
plete standstill, and I thought would never have gone on. . . . In
1 Letters, etc., of J. H. Newman, ii. p. 290.

1839-3 CHRISTMAS AT BRIGHTON. 1 59
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
obhged to him. He had been talking of increase of luxury
amongst the undergraduates 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 undergraduates 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 best of it was, the main
body of the sermon had been quite, in the general, on the vanity
of human life, etc., quite proper and unobjectionable. The
Heads were looking serene and composed, when, all of a sudden,
comes this highly practical turn to the subject.1
The Christmas holidays were spent at Brighton with
his children, of whose delicate health he writes to Newman,
adding, ' Lucy is, however, better since I have been here ;
... if she should but ever be strong enough to be a
" Soeur de la Charite," in our Church ! '
1 Letters of Rev. J. B. Mozley, p. 94.

CHAPTER IX.
TRACT NO. 90.
1840, 1841.
From words, which are but pictures of the thought
(Though we our thoughts from them perversely drew),
To things, the mind's right object, he it brought ;
Like foolish birds to painted grapes we flew,
He sought and gathered for our use the true.
Abraham Cowley.
Pusey is at Brighton, pretty well (Newman wrote to Mr. Bowden,
January 5, 1840). At present he is very much bent on estab
lishing an order of Sisters of Mercy (I despair somehow, but I
always croak), and is collecting information. ... I feel sure that
such institutions are the only means of saving some of our best
members from turning Roman Catholics; and yet I despair of
such societies being made externally.
They must be the expansion of an inward principle. All one
can do is to offer the opportunity.1
Dr. Pusey returned home the end of January ; his
children were more than usually ailing ; and in March he
brought Lucy to Oxford to be under the daily care of Dr.
Wootton, in whose house she remained, as her eyes were
seriously affected.
The Christ Church 'lodgings' were not, however,
entirely lonely, as Lady Lucy came to her son, and
1 Letters, etc., of J. H. Newman, ii. p. 295-98.

1840.I LADY LUCY PUSEY. l6l
remained with him until after Easter. She had given up
Holton Park, and it was her habit to spend many months
visiting her children,1 at Pusey, Christ Church, and Langley.
Her custom was to spend most of Lent and Easter at
Christ Church, and two months generally after the Long
Vacation, so that, between her visits and his children's
holidays, Dr. Pusey was not much alone.
Several beautiful letters, written by Lady Lucy at this
time to her little grandson, who was at school at Brighton,
show how faithfully and lovingly she fulfilled her promise
to his dying mother. Cardinal Newman preserved,
amongst Dr. Pusey's letters, one from Lady Lucy, written
at this time, which shows the like tender thought for her
sick granddaughter.
Dear Sir, — I hope that you will excuse the liberty
which I am taking, but my granddaughter is very desirous of
seeing you, and if you have a little spare time it would give her
great pleasure if you would bestow it upon her by calling at Dr.
Wootton's. I am quite aware how much you are occupied, and
that she is but a child ; still, if you will view it in the light of a
visit to the sick, which it will be, I am sure that you will kindly
do it, if you can. Believe me, dear sir,
Yours sincerely, Lucy Pusey.
The youngest child was at Clifton.
I saw your Httle Mary again before I left Clifton (Mr.
Perceval Ward wrote about this time to her father) ; she is very
1 She only resided in Grosvenor Square during the season, when she kept
open house for the family. Besides her visits to Christ Church, my mother's
step-nephew, Frederic Raymond Parker, was living in the house, for some
years till he married. He had a sitting-room and bedroom set apart for his
use. At one time my father had some young men living in the house, under
some kind of rule, attending Divinity lectures and chapel, such as they would
do now in a Theological College, — Note by Mrs. Brine. M

1 62 PROJECTED CHURCH.
well ; she has quite won the hearts of my mother and sisters by
her gentle and lively manners. It is quite delightful to see her
attachment to Miss Rogers, who appears a most sensible and good
person. I am sorry not to hear so good an account of your
other two.
Two great projects chiefly occupied Dr. Pusey's mind
at this time : one, himself to build and endow a church in
some great manufacturing town (not appearing as the
benefactor) ; the other, the revival of religious community
life. Of the first he wrote to Mr. Keble,1 enclosing a letter
from Dr. Hook, Vicar of Leeds, speaking of the relief it
would be to him to have an assistant clergyman with a
separate ' small congregation.' As to the church for this
congregation, Dr. Pusey conceals himself, even from Mr.
Keble, writing of the proposed founder as ' Z.'
He was anxious that Mr. Keble's curate, the Rev.
Robert F. Wilson, should undertake this work. Dr. Hook,
he writes,
does not wish him to come to found Sisters of Charity, although
he hopes that would be the result ; he wishes him to come to form
a congregation, and subsequently do whatever is brought into his
way to be done. . . . He wishes things to be done gently and
quietly . . . which would suit Wilson. ... It does seem an
opportunity for carrying out Catholic principles, insensibly at first,
in a very important place which ought not to be lost. Wilson
need not, should not, go further than he felt at the time disposed ;
but it would be of the greatest value, if he would go ; he might
ripen his own views and his people's at the same time. . . .
Wilson, too, would be glad to carry out Z.'s plan. Hook will
1 In an undated letter, but on the deeply edged black paper which he used
for a year after his wife's death

1840.] RELIGIOUS COMMUNITIES. 163
assign the site for ' Z.'s ' church accordingly ; i.e. he would place
it among a population where Catholic views would be likely to
be best received and most influential. He is very earnest about
it ; as so am I for ' Z.'s ' sake (the builder of the church), as well
as for the ultimate hopes of having Sisters of Charity when it
opens. I had heard of a magnificent conventual church . . .
near Lisbon, which I had hoped to have purchased for Z. to
transport to Leeds : ... it may end in my getting an architect
who has a love for these things to go over, on his expenses being
paid. Would it fall in with Sir William Heathcote's plans or Mr.
Yonge's to purchase anything of the sort ? They say that all the
conventual churches have been on sale for eight years ; and that
altars have been purchased by English, and turned into sideboards.
. . . Pray urge Wilson, if you can. I feel certain that it would
be a blessing in manifold ways.
Mr. Wilson did not, alas ! accept the offer. Dr. Pusey
knew his man, and there is no doubt of the immense loss
to his scheme which Mr. Wilson's refusal entailed ; most of
the troubles which more than once wrecked St. Saviour's,
Leeds, would not have arisen under his guidance, and
others would have been wisely dealt with.
Concerning his second project, Dr. Pusey preserved a
long letter from the Rev. Robert Williams, February 19,
1840, in which, alluding to a scheme for a 'Curates'
College' in some large town, he writes that 'what then
attracted me towards the idea was the hope that such an
institution might gradually assume something of a monastic
character, and supply what is confessedly a defect in our
Church.' Mr. Williams, however, expresses his opinion
that ' the judgment of the Church, testified by the uniform
practice for ages, seems decisive that for the monastic
state the three vows are absolutely essential, and since, I
suppose,' he adds, ' none would think of proposing these

1 64 SCHEME FOR LITTLEMORE.
vows in our present state, it follows that till the state of
things amongst us is materially altered, the monastic life
cannot be re-introduced.' In this opinion, Mr. S. Wood, to
whom he had spoken, entirely agreed ; ' yet he will do
anything he can to help,' Mr. Williams wrote, 'if you think
proper to set it up ; and in this assurance I most fully
join, and with, I think, somewhat more hope of success
than he entertains.'
A few days later Mr. Perceval Ward wrote to Dr.
Pusey, sending him a little book called 'St. Vincent de
Paul and the Sisters of Charity, with some particulars of
the establishment to be erected at St. Leonard's, Hastings.'
' I do not know whether they have any distinctive dress,'
he says, ' but this would appear indispensable in the low
haunts of our cities.' Mr. Ward expresses his conviction
that ' if we could not meet the Roman Catholics by a similar
institute, the population of our great towns would be lost
to our Church,' and his joy at hearing that Dr. Pusey was
•actually engaged in schemes for attempting a remedy,'
since, he adds, ' thousands of souls, the care of the Church
of England, are year by year allowed to perish, because
we dare not make ventures beyond our old, and, for these
times, inefficient machinery. Surely, at such a time,
everything but principle is to be risked.'
Then, on March 17, 1840, Mr. Newman first told Dr.
Pusey of his thought of building ' a monastic house ' at
Littlemore, and living there himself.
Littlemore (Cardinal Newman says in his ' Apologia ') was an
integral part of St. Mary's parish, and between two and three
miles distant from Oxford. I had built a church there several
years before, and I went there to pass Lent of 1840, and gave

1840.] LETTER TO NEWMAN. 165
myself up to teaching in the parish school and practising the
choir.1 In Dr. Pusey's reply, March 19, 1840, to Newman's
letter, telling him of his Littlemore plan, he says, ' I do
not see why you should have been " continually perplexing
yourself," whether you are not " called elsewhere." '
For myself (he continues), one has a feeling corresponding to
that with which Elisha (I mean as far as outward circumstances
go) may be supposed to have heard the words, ' Knowest thou not
that thy master is taken from thy head to-day ? ' However, if I
were to act more for myself, I suppose it would be somehow in
this way. ... I hardly look to be able to avail myself of the
fiovr), since I must be so busy when here, on account of my
necessary absences to see my children, unless, indeed, I should
live long enough to be ejected from my canonry ; as, of course,
one must contemplate as likely if one lives, and then it would be
a happy retreat.
Thus a few minds turned thoughtfully to the remem
brance of those religious communities which had scarce
been mentioned in England save with scorn, since all their
great foundations had been swept away — good and bad,
innocent and guilty involved in the same destruction.
Before the end ofthe year Dr. Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble :
N. and I have separately come to think it necessary to have
some 'Scaurs de la Charite' in the Anglo-Catholic [Church].
He is going to have an article on it in the British Critic ; if no
one else writes it, he will do it himself. I have named it since to
very different sorts of persons, and all are taken with it exceed
ingly, except B. H. (who as archbishop's chaplain is half afraid
of it), and think that there would be numbers of people who are
yearning to be employed that way. My notion was that it might
1 Apologia pro Vita Sua (ed. 1873), p. 131.

1 66 PHILIP PUSEY'S ILLNESS.
begin by regular employment as nurses, in hospitals and lunatic
asylums, in which last Christian nursing is so sadly missed.
Possibly the two friends were the more anxious to
establish something under rules for devotion and work,
that they found only too much to do at this time in trying
to check much that was wrong and foolish in some of
their followers, who, as Dr. Pusey expressed it, had ' taken
up shreds and patches of the Catholic system.' x
Dr. Pusey was called to Brighton before Easter by his
boy's alarming increase of illness, and wrote to Newman
just before leaving : —
Christ Church, Feria 2, in M[ajoris] H[ebdomadse April 14].
Thank you very much for your kind and cheering note
just received. . . . For myself, I do hope that this is all chastise
ment as well as punishment, to bring me through fire and water
into a wealthy place. But then there ought to be fruit pro
portionate to all this gracious culture, and that saddens one. Else
it were little to take patiently the buffeting for one's wrong-doing.
. . . Thank you for your intended visit on Easter Day. The
thought of it will be pleasant when alone with my sick child.
April 30.
I find that there is, humanly speaking, no hope of
recovery ; only, with children, one never knows what God may
not do for them. It was scarcely a shock to hear of it ; I have
been so long and so gently prepared for it.
1 Things must have been tolerably trying when Newman had to complain
of one of his friends, whom he had cautioned against extravagances in St.
Mary's pulpit, preaching, in his absence, that it was a good thing to make the
brute creation fast on fast days. ' May he (salvis ossibus suis) have a fasting
horse the next time he goes steeple-chasing,' Newman adds. — Letters, etc., of
J. H. Newman, ii. p. 291.

1840.I DEPRESSION. 167
On the Monday after Trinity Sunday he wrote to
Newman : —
I could not forget yesterday what you were to me on that day
last year ; your note has been a treasure to me, and, I hope, to
my children. I prayed (though not as I ought) that you might
be requited at that ' ineffabile Convivium, ubi Tu, Pater, cum Filio
Tuo et Spiritu Sancto, Sanctis Tuis es Lux vera, Satietas plena,
Gaudium sempiternum, Jucunditas consummata, et Felicitas
perfecta.' May 14, 1840.
I shall like to walk with you at three to-morrow ; but
the Library of the Fathers does not oppress me. ... As far as I
am heavy-hearted, it must have been with the thought of what
I have been, what I might have been, what others might have
been had I been what I ought, and that I am not now, in life's
daily trials, what I ought to be.
The season of the year and my children's frail lives bring
this home in a way which you cannot tell how much occasion
there is for ; too probably, not so much as it ought ; this, how
ever, and nothing else (it were better if it might have been), makes
me downcast, as far as I am so.
Newman was evidently anxious about his friend's
depression at this first anniversary of his wife's death ; but
to an attempt to persuade him to come to him to meet
others at Whitsuntide, Dr. Pusey replied : —
Many thanks. I like all opportunities of seeing Wood and
Williams and you, but I am not going into Oxford society again,
and there are so many ways of sliding back into it, that the only
way of escaping is to refuse everything.
From January to July, 1840, there was a considerable
correspondence between Dr. Pusey and his friends, and
the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop of Oxford, on a

1 68 THE BREVIARY.
proposed ' Union for Prayers ' for the unity of the Church,
suggested first by the Passionist Father Ignatius (the Rev.
George A. Spencer). It was not carried out on the lines
proposed, but its outcome was the little tract bearing the
initials, ' E. B. P., J. K., C. M.,' 1 and containing short prayers
to be added to those used at the third, sixth, and ninth
hours, which appeared in 1845, and has ever since been used
by thousands.2 A scheme for translating the Sarum Breviary also
occupied the three chief leaders during this year. They
wished for it as supplying the need increasingly felt for
the expression of that devotion which, beginning with
the august courses of the Hebrew Temple worship, had
poured itself forth freely in the ordered Services of the
ancient Church. And yet they felt that while turning
to the Breviary, to provide the lacking expression for re
kindled longings, there were, as Mr. Newman wrote this
year, ' breakers ahead ! ' ' The danger of a lapse into
Romanism, I think,' he adds, 'gets greater daily.' Might
not the proposed translation turn minds the more in
that direction ? Such anxieties were thickening ; and it
is difficult to know how, amidst his immense work, Dr.
Pusey found time for the careful consideration of individual
cases which his letters at this time reveal.
The Christmas holidays of 1840-41 were spent by
Dr. Pusey with his children and his mother at Brighton,
and when he returned to Christ Church, the end of
January, he had the comfort of Lady Lucy's presence
in his house until after Easter. She writes to her little
* Charles Marriott.
' At the third hour for unity, at the sixth for the conversion of sinners, at
the ninth for perseverance in holiness.

1841.] TRACT NO. 90 PUBLISHED. 1 69
grandson, mentioning for the first time his father travelling
by railroad to Oxford, though she could not bring herself
to make such a venture. Ch. Ch., February 1, 1841.
I am happy to tell you that he is very well. We had, as
you know, beautiful weather for our first day's journey, and we
arrived in London about four o'clock ; ... the next morning he
and your uncle travelled by the railroad to their respective homes ;
they invited me to accompany them, but I preferred the slower
movement of the post horses, and I arrived here five hours after
your papa. ... I often think of you, my dear Philip ; especially
when I am alone I miss my little companion, who I much love ;
but in doing so I always feel that you are happy where you are.
Her son needed, during the coming Lent, all the
comfort a mother's love could give. No. 90 of the ' Tracts
for the Times' was published on February 27, and on
March 8 Dr. Pusey writes to Rev. the Hon. Arthur
Perceval : —
We are here in some anxiety in consequence of a movement
against Newman in consequence of Tract 90, on the Thirty-nine
Articles. . . . What will come of it we cannot guess, and the less
said about it the better beforehand, only I wished you to know
that we are in anxiety.
It was the first of the many storms through which, for
a long course of years, he had to steer his course and lead
the way for others. The events which followed the publica
tion of Tract 90 have been often and admirably told,
especially by its author in his ' Apologia ; ' by Dean Church,
and by Dr. Liddon in his ' Life of Dr. Pusey.' In this more
personal * Story of Dr. Pusey's Life,' only such brief outline

170 NEWMAN'S INTENTION.
of facts is needed as may make his action in the matter
intelligible to those who are not already acquainted with
them. Cardinal Newman has told us what his thoughts were
in writing Tract 90— to show that the Catholic Faith of
the ancient Church did ' live and speak in Anglican
formularies.' That is what I maintained it did in substance, in a true
sense. Man had done his worst to disfigure, to mutilate, the old
Catholic Truth, but there it was, in spite of them, in the Articles
still. It was there, but this must be shown. It was a matter of
life and death to us to show it. And I believed it could be
shown.1 The writer of Tract 90 — ' a wholesome and necessary
effort to rescue a formulary of the Church of England
from popular glosses which were, to say the least, mis
leading and mischievous ' — was moved to attempt it
because of the difficulties of many in this time of the
restoration of old paths.
I had been enjoined, I think by my Bishop, to keep these
men straight, and I wished so to do. But their tangible difficulty
was subscription to the Articles, and thus the question of the
Articles came before me.
When Dr. Pusey republished Tract 90, in 1870, he
could, looking back through so many years, express his
deliberate judgment that 'Tract 90 did a great work in
clearing the Articles from the glosses which, like barnacles,
had encrusted round them. I believe that that work will
never be undone while the Articles last.'
1 Apologia, etc. (ed. 1873), pp. 129, 130.

1841.] MEETING OF THE FOUR TUTORS. I71
All this was already so familiar to Mr. Newman's
mind that he was wholly unprepared for the Tract being
taken by any one as an insidious and dishonest attempt
to prove that certain distinctively Roman doctrines could
be held by those signing the Articles. It seems marvellous
that, even in his seclusion at Littlemore, he had not better
estimated the smouldering dislike of the influence of the
Tracts (which only needed a spark to set it ablaze), or felt
the atmosphere they had created in the University. But
in a note to Dr. Pusey he says (March 18) that the Bishop
of Oxford ' ought to know that I was utterly without any
idea that the Tract would make any disturbance.'
The first move in the battle was a meeting of seven
clergymen, almost all Fellows or Tutors of colleges, at
which it was resolved that a letter, prepared by Mr. Tait,1
should be sent to the editor of the Tracts, protesting
against ' new and startling views ' put forward in Tract 90,
and requesting that ' some person, besides the printer and
publisher of the Tract, should acknowledge himself re
sponsible for its contents.' The letter was signed by four
Tutors, the Rev. T. T. Churton, H. B. Wilson, J. Griffiths,
and A. C. Tait.
The letter reached Mr. Newman the same day through
Mr. J. H. Parker, and he wrote a courteous acknowledg
ment of its receipt. Next day it was in print, read
everywhere in Oxford, and, on March 10, the Tract was
laid before the Hebdomadal Council for discussion by the
Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Wynter. On March 12 the Pleads
of Houses met again, twenty-one being present, and it
was resolved, by a majority of nineteen to two, to censure
1 Afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury.

172 TRACT 90 CENSURED.
the Tract. This was on Friday. In a note from Dr.
Pusey to Mr. Keble, dated ' Saturday evening,' he says —
Newman is writing a P.S. explanatory, which I hope will do
good service. The Heads of Houses have appointed a com
mittee, and, it is said, mean to issue a programme condemning
Tract 90. . . . Newman says, ' I assure you it was a very great
relief to my mind when I found what they meant to do. I am
quite satisfied.' But, which is worse, Golightly has been sending
the Tract to the Bishops, obtaining their opinions upon an ex parte
statement ; he is said to have received four this morning. I fear
the storm will lie heavy upon us. We must reef our sail, and go
softly and humbly.
Mr. Newman requested, and Dr. Pusey requested for
him, that the Heads of Houses would delay their judgment
of the Tract until his explanation should be published,
not later than the 16th. This was refused, and the
censure published in Oxford on the morning of March 16.
Thereupon Mr. Newman wrote to the Vice-Chancellor
to inform him that he was the author, and had 'the
sole responsibility of the Tract,' and the same evening
a letter from him to Dr. Jelf was published, explaining
the points raised against him by the Four Tutors' Letter.
You will be much pained by the enclosed (Dr. Pusey wrote,
March 17, to Mr. Keble). Newman is very calm; he has written
an admirable, clear explanation, but the Heads of Houses seem
to have cut themselves off from understanding it.1 One cannot
foresee what the consequences may not be. . . . In London
1 'It came too late,' Dr. Liddon wrote. 'The Hebdomadal Council was
substantially a court of justice in this matter. Yet its members deliberately
refused to hear the defence of the accused. . . . The majority of the Heads
were too angry or too panic-stricken to obey that elementary rule of justice
which prescribes that the worst criminals shall be heard in self-defence before
their condemnation.'— Life, ii. pp. 177, 174.

1841.] THE STRENGTH OF SILENCE. 173
nothing else is spoken of; people who read no other Tract read
this, under the guidance of Radical papers. . . . His (Newman's)
general opinion was, our strength is to sit still.
In reply, Mr. Keble discouraged Dr. Pusey's wish to
get up a declaration, numerously signed, in favour of
Tract 90, and expressed his conviction —
that we had much better leave things as they are, if other people
will let us, only taking care that all may understand that the
Heads are not the University; which fact, indeed, I see the
Times has already spread pretty well through the civilized world.
Mr. Keble, who was extremely sensitive about good
and bad English, must have enjoyed the notice in the
Times of the Four Tutors' Letter, in which its author
expressed a hope that 'they did not instruct their pupils
in the sort of English which they appear to write.' 1
I am sorry to have given you this anxiety about the declara
tion (Dr. Pusey replied, March 19); I gave it up this morning.
One wished to join one's self even, with Newman; but he can
bear the heat of the day alone. He to Whom he commits himself
will bring his innocence to light sooner or later, so he needs not
the aid of such as I. . . . When the storm is over, people who
can appreciate him will respect him the more.
Both Dr. Pusey and Mr. Keble thought that a few
changes ought to be made in some sentences in Tract 90
so as to ' make misunderstanding, as was that of the Four
Tutors, impossible.' This was done in the second edition
of the Tract (the changes marked by brackets), and some
fresh paragraphs were added for the same purpose. But the
author stuck to the leading note of his famous pamphlet.2
1 See Life, ii. p. 170.
3 ' That principle was that the Articles were not to be interpreted in the

174 BISHOP BAGOT ALARMED.
The real trouble to the three friends arose from the
Bishop of Oxford's ' fears,' to use his own words, ' as to the
possible consequences of the recent publication.' They
are expressed in letters written (March 17) to Dr. Pusey
and Mr. Newman in the kindest, most considerate, and
most moderate words, coming evidently from one not
moved by the general excitement and animus against the
Tractarians (except to address them with the greater
gentleness and respect), but yet obliged to write : —
That the object of the Tract is to make our Church more
Catholic (in its true sense) and more united, I am satisfied, . . . but
I cannot think it free from danger, and I feel that it would tend
to increase disunion at this time.
The Bishop also expressed his anxious wish that, for
the peace of the Church, discussions upon the Articles
should not be continued in the publication of the ' Tracts
for the Times.'
In Dr. Pusey's reply to the Bishop (March 18) he
urges upon him the fact that in Tract 90 ' the argument is
throughout directed against popular misinterpretation of
the Articles, which gives the Articles a meaning which
they have not in themselves.' Mr. Newman, however,
at once acceded to the Bishop's wish. He wrote, on
March 18—
There shall be no more discussions upon the Articles in the
' Tracts for the Times,' according to your Lordship's wish ; nor
indeed was it at all my intention that there should be.
light of the Protestant or Puritan tradition, which had so long imposed a false
sense upon them ; but, in the first instance, by the clear meaning of their own
language ; or, where this was doubtful, by the general sense of the Church,
Primitive and Catholic, of which the Church of England claims to be a part,
and to which she appeals.' — Life, ii. p. 183.

1841.] THE BISHOPS KINDNESS. 175
And again on March 20 —
The tenour of your Lordship's letter of this morning brought
tears into my eyes. My single wish, as far as I dare speak of
myself, or speak of my having a wish, isto benefit the Church and
to approve myself to your Lordship. ... I assure your Lordship
I was altogether unsuspicious that my Tract would make any
disturbance. Bishop Bagot had written both to Dr. Pusey and Mr.
Newman (March 19), thanking them warmly for ' the kind
spirit ' and the ' ready acquiescence ... so often heretofore
experienced ' with which his letters had been received ;
and in his letter to Dr. Pusey he says —
Believe me that in any friendly hints or suggestions I may
upon a little further consideration possibly be inclined to give, I
am much guided by thought for yourselves, anxious to secure and
extend the good which it is in your power to do, and which in
many respects you have already effected, instead of lessening or
retarding it.
The storm of popular outcry broke on Bishop
Bagot's head for his gentleness to the Tractarians. The
Archbishop of Canterbury wrote to him expressing his
opinion that ' it seems most desirable that the publication
of the Tracts should be discontinued for ever ' ; and, on
March 23, the Bishop wrote to Dr. Pusey : —
As I feel anxious to have a little private conversation with
you, and think it preferable to writing more in this painful position
of things to myself and others, I should be greatly obliged to you
if you would come over to Cuddesdon some morning, and as soon
as you can without inconvenience to yourself to do so.
At this interview far more was demanded than in the

176 DIFFICULTIES WITH BISHOPS.
Bishop's first letter, when he had only desired that no more
should be written in the Tracts about the Articles, and,
after hearing from Dr. Pusey the result of the interview at
Cuddesdon Mr. Newman replied (March 24) that he could
not do what was asked of him ' without surrendering
interests with which ' he was ' providentially charged ' just
then, since he represented ' a vast number all through the
country ' who more or less agreed with him. He reminded
Dr. Pusey that at first he had been only asked by the
Bishop to write no more about the Articles in the Tracts,
which he had at once promised not to do. ' When they
[authorities in London] find me obedient,' he continued,
' they add the stopping of the Tracts and the suppression
of No. 90.' He felt, that to say the latter was done * at their
bidding* would be taken as equivalent to a condemnation
from them ' like that of the Heads,' and that he could not
therefore ' co-operate with such an act ; ' that, if the Bishop
made public his wish that the Tract should be suppressed,
he would do it, ' but,' he added, ' I think I should resign
my living.'
Dr. Pusey, as usual, threw himself into the breach,
setting Mr. Newman's view forcibly before the Bishop (in
a letter of March 25), and the next day going to Cuddesdon.
That morning Mr. Newman had written him three most
touching notes. He expressed his conviction
that people will alter their opinion very much about the Tract.
They have already, in a measure. Suppression will perpetuate
their first impressions. Is this just? . . . If I have ever done any
good to the Church, I would ask the Bishop this favour as a
reward for it, that he would not insist upon a measure from which
I think good will not come.

1841.] THE TRACTS DISCONTINUED. I77
The result of the interview at Cuddesdon was that the
Bishop yielded the point about which the friends cared
most, the suppression of No. 90. But the Tracts were to
be discontinued. In a long letter to the Bishop the same
evening, written after his return to Oxford, Dr. Pusey says :
'they will have become historical documents, and things
past.' But his heart is evidently very sore for his friend, and
at the check to their work. He reminds the Bishop that
— though most cheerfully and readily conceded . . . it is no slight
matter. It is just what our opponents have long been desiring at
your Lordship's hands. They have been clamouring in news
papers that your Lordship should, as they call it, • put down the
Tracts,' i.e. put a stop to them. ... It is a very different thing
from their having been closed naturally by their authors. It does
set a sort of mark upon their close, and (one need not shrink from
owning) put some disgrace upon it. ... I do not know of any
similar instance in which a work so extensively circulated was at
once stopped at the recommendation of a Bishop. . . . Dr.
Hampden's Bampton Lectures were virtually condemned by the
University of Oxford, and that on the ground of heretical teaching,
and explaining away the doctrines of the Articles, yet no Bishop
took the slightest notice of it. . . . If people so misrepresent us
when our books are there to appeal to, what will they do when
they are not, and they may say what they please ? I do hope
(he says in another letter to the Bishop) that while this act
stamps our own principles it will raise people's views of ready
submission, and so inculcate what has been taught in the Tracts,
more than themselves.
From the Rev. J. Keble.
Hursley Vicarage, Friday in E. Week, April 16, 184 1.
We hope to have Sir W. Heathcote's newly built chapel
Consecrated on Wednesday.1 Newman is coming. You cannot, I
1 Ampfield Church, near Hursley. N

178 LETTER FROM SIR G. PREVOST.
fear (you know how glad we should be to see you), but you will
kindly remember us on that day. I cannot but think that N.'s
coming out as he does in this whole business will do the cause
a great deal more good than any fresh stir of which this Tract
has been made the pretence is likely to do it harm. People quite
unconnected write to one as if they were greatly moved by it.
Ever yours truly affect., J. Keble.
I can only express my hope (the Rev. Sir George Prevost
wrote to Dr. Pusey, June 25, 1841) that the spirit in which
the controversy is carried on must do good and lead to truth
and peace. I am sure it has done me some good, and it is
my fault that it has not done me more. As I have ventured to
say as much, I will venture further to thank you for what I have
read years ago in your Tract on Baptism, as to the depth and
earnestness of the repentance required for sin after baptism. It
has had a more lasting and (I believe) more salutary effect than
anything else of human composition that I have met with. And
if God should be pleased at the last to have mercy on me, I
believe it will have been a great instrument of my salvation.
Thus the series of ' Tracts for the Times,' after seven
years and a half, came to an end. The first had been
published in September, 1833. Their influence cannot
easily be over-rated, and could not have prevailed without
the depth of conviction and of prayerful earnestness, as
well as genius, existing behind utterances which might
often seem dry and even cold.
The importance of the work they had done was not
felt alone by an ecclesiastical party ; it is forcibly expressed
in two articles in the Times, which appeared within the
week. A few words must be given from the first : —
Whatever may be the merits or the faults of the gentlemen at
Oxford to whom Lord Morpeth and Mr. O'Connell alluded, it is

1841.] THE TIMES' ESTIMATE OF THE TRACTS, 17Q)
notoriously false to say that any one of them ever thought of
'disclaiming' any single doctrine of the Church to which he
belongs : the whole aim and object of their teaching is to recom
mend certain doctrines as identical with those of the Liturgy,
Canons, and Articles of the Church of England.1
A second article, two days later, is still more remark
able in the witness it bears to the good effected by the
Tracts : —
Their teaching has now sunk deeply into the heart of the
Church of England; it has acquired not merely a numerical,
but a moral power and influence, which must henceforth make it
impossible for any statesman to despise and overlook, and highly
indiscreet for any political party unnecessarily to alienate, this
element in the constitution of society. The younger clergy are
said to be very generally of this school ; it has no want of
advocates among their seniors; it has penetrated into both
tlouses of Parliament; and we are confidently informed (we
suppose, therefore, upon some foundation) that it has met with
countenance from the Bishops themselves. It has completely
succeeded in awakening in the Church that vital spirit of
reaction, the necessity for which called it into existence. We hear
nothing now of a demand for the admission of Dissenters into the
Universities, of proposals to abolish subscription to the Thirty-
nine Articles, or of contemplated changes in the Liturgy ; or, if we
do still hear of them, the manner in which they are received, as
contrasted with their popularity in 1833, illustrates the complete
ness of the victory still more forcibly.
That the victory, as far as it was due to the Tracts,
was chiefly Dr. Pusey's, can hardly be doubted. In
September, 1835, two years after the series had begun,
Mr. Harrison wrote to Mr. Newman that he heard in
London, 'that Rivington gives up the Tracts after next
• The Times, March 4, 1841.

180 * DR. PUSEY'S WORK FOR THE TRACTS.
month. Is it not a pity,' he adds, 'to give them up?
Could not you strengthen them by a little more originality f '
And, on October 10, Mr. Newman wrote that he could not
be editor if the Tracts came out every month.
It is the way to make them mere trash. One is pressed for
time, and writes for the occasion stop-gaps. I am conscious
there are some stop-gaps in the Tracts already. . . . We shall be
losing credit and influence if we go on so. As I was strongly for
short Tracts on beginning, so I am for longer now. We must
have much more treatises than sketches.1
Before the end of October Dr. Pusey's great treatise on
Baptism had appeared (Tracts 67, 68, and 69), and from
that time there was no longer any misgivings as to the
prosperity of the undertaking.
1 Newman's Letters, ii. pp. 137, 138.

CHAPTER X.
the beginning of sorrows.
1841, 1842.
Is the remainder ofthe way so long,
Thou need'st the little solace, thou the strong ?
Watch out thy watch, let weak ones doze and dream I
Robert Browning.
The confirmation of Dr. Pusey's little daughter Lucy,
on June 4, was a great joy to him. He writes shortly
before to Mr. Perceval : —
I hope my eldest girl (not quite twelve) will be confirmed
on Friday in next Easter Week, and become a communicant on
Trinity Sunday. May I ask you kindly to remember her ?
To the same friend he writes concerning gossip as to
severe rules in his family : —
My poor children have as much sleep as their Heavenly
Father gives them, and, being weakly, it is no slight portion and
their great refreshment. I should think it generally amounted to
eleven hours. One would certainly have sunk, but for most
unusual degree of sleep. They abstain from things palatable, as
butter, puddings (an animal diet being recommended them), on fast
days, but from nothing nourishing. S. Augustine says truly, ' Man,
curious about others, incurious about himself.'

182 LUCY PUSEY.
On Trinity Sunday, when Lucy Pusey made her first
Communion, the present venerable Superior of the Com
munity in Woodstock Road, Oxford, vowed herself, with
Mr. Newman's approval, and also Dr. Pusey's, to a devoted
life, although no sisterhood had yet been formed. ' I made
my Communion,' she told Mrs. Brine not long ago, 'by
the side of your sister Lucy (it was her first Communion)
and of Lady Lucy and Dr. Pusey. In those days all
remained in their seats round the chancel, and Dr.
Newman brought to each the Blessed Sacrament. I think
Mr. Copeland was the other Priest. In the autumn of
that year, with Dr. Pusey's consent, I went with Mr. and
Mrs. Seagar to Normandy, and visited several convents,
to collect details to assist in the forming of religious
communities in the English Church.'
I was only seven years old at the time of dear Lucy's first
Communion (her only surviving sister writes) ; I feel sure that
it was her dedication (though unfulfilled) to the spiritual life ; x just
as my own eldest child made hers in St. Barnabas Church at
Oxford, and then came home with me, in three short months to
be called, as my eldest sister was, by rapid consumption, to the
accepted dedication of their lives to God's service.
From this time his little daughter became Dr. Pusey's
dearest friend and companion, entering warmly into all his
hopes and plans for the restoration of religious communities
in England. He writes of every wish of his heart being
fulfilled in her at this time, every anxiety removed, ' and
her dear mother's unwearied pains richly blest.'
1 Puellce jam in voiis Christo desponsata were written by Dr. Pusey for
the slab which marks his child's grave in Christ Church Cathedral.

1841.I VISIT TO IRELAND. 1 83
Lady Lucy left Christ Church immediately after
Easter. She wrote to her little grandson : —
Oxford, April 12, 1841.
I am sorry that the time is come when I am to leave
him, for one must always leave affectionate children with regret
(though it may be to join another), and mine are all such to me.
It is a great blessing, and one which I hope will be returned to
them in their own. I can truly say such has been your dear papa's
conduct through life that as a parent I can look back upon it with
gratitude to the Almighty for having given me such a son.
July and August were spent by the Pusey family in
Ireland, accompanied by Miss Rogers. ' People are very
kind here, Romanism sadly political,' he wrote (July 7) to
Mr. Keble. He was pursued by anxieties during his
holiday, being much distressed by violent articles in the
British Critic (by Mr. Oakeley and Mr. Ward), and which
seemed to him, especially in their language as to the
Reformers and their work, to commit the Tractarian organ
to the ' view of a certain section.' ' It makes one heavy-
hearted,' he wrote, ' and think that one's office is done. I
have poured out my sorrows to you, and you will excuse
it.' Mr. Keble, however, ' particularly liked ' the article
on Bishop Jewel, by Mr. Oakeley, which had distressed
Dr. Pusey. He had not then seen Mr. Keble's strong
words as to the Reformers and their action in his Preface
to ' Froude's Remains,' and he wrote to Mr. Newman : —
Sandycove, Kingstown, August 9, 1841.
You will think it strange that I did not know your
opinion of the Reformers, but the Preface to ' Remains,' Part IL,
not having fallen in my way, I never happened to read it, as I
can and do read very little.

1 84 ARTICLES IN THE 'BRITISH CRITIC
Mr. Newman replied, ' The Preface to the " Remains "
is Keble's, not mine ; though, of course, I agree with it.'
Mr. Newman also suggested to his friend (July 27), while
assuring him of his own annoyance at the tone of certain
articles, that ' if we stop up all the safety valves, we must
expect a blow up.' Oriel College, July 30, 1841.
As to the said British Critic, I suppose every review
must depend on men who will write for it. . . . Certainly I made
a great effort to make it literary and scientific, but it failed. . . .
I fear I must say that, if it is to be theological, it will to a
certainty take a (so-called) ultra tone, if clever men are to write
for it. ... I assure you I shall try all I can to turn it into a
literary channel ; and if my will has its way I will put a stop to
all attacks on the Reformers.
Every one goes to see sights in Dublin. I don't see any harm
in your going with Lucy to see the taking the veil. Of course
everything you do will be talked of, anyhow.
My povr) at Littlemore is getting on, but I am very faint
hearted about anything coming of it.
Four days later he wrote, ' I have given up the notion
of a monastic body at present, lest a talk should be made.
I have got a room where I can put my books and myself.'
Mr. Keble's letters to Dr. Pusey at this time are also
full of trouble caused by the Bishop of Winchester's treat
ment of the Rev. Peter Young, curate of Hursley, and
then a deacon, to whom Priest's Orders were refused by
the Bishop at his Ordination in July, 1 841, for professing,
in answer to special questions prepared for him, his belief
in a real, though spiritual Presence in the Eucharist. Mr.
Keble was terribly distressed, both on his curate's account,
and because he felt that the blow was really directed

1841.] LETTER FROM REV. J. KEBLE. 185
against his teaching, and that it might be his duty to
resign his living. He wrote to Dr. Pusey, July 17 : —
It is a comfort to think of you all by the sea, and I wish that
same Irish- Welsh sea may agree with you as well as it did with
us. . . . Young will probably land at Kingstown in the course of
next week, and I shall tell him to find you out. ... If one man
is more blameless and devoted than another, I should say, from
what I see of him, that Peter Young is that man; and he is a
person, too, of remarkably good information. ... I wish you
could get inland as! far as Mr. Trench's,1 Kilmoroney, near Athy.
Do think of it.
To Rev. J. Keble.
1, Burdett Avenue, Sandycove, Kingstown,
July 21, 1841.
I thank you very much for liking to pour out your
troubles to me ; ... I hope, as you say, good may come of it,
and that the Bishop may be persuaded that he has acted severely ;
meanwhile, one cannot but think there is misconception, and so
you may, I trust, remain more at your ease under your Bishop.
One must be very cautious about driving any of them to commit
themselves to apparent opposition to Catholic Truth; rather, I
suppose, one must take it for granted that they mean what our
Church means, and so must ascribe any apparent condemnation
of Truth to misconception. So long as one is satisfied that one
does hold what our Church holds, I do not think that any of us
1 The Rev. Frederick Stewart Trench. His wife, Lady Helena, and Sir
William Heathcote's first wife were sisters ; and the two families were frequently
together at Hursley. It happened that Mr. Trench, his wife and four young
daughters, were at this time staying at Kingstown, and became intimate with
Dr. Pusey. ' I was most glad to hear of your dear good cousin ' (the eldest
daughter, now Mrs. Jeffry Lefroy), Dr. Pusey wrote in 1876 ; ' I can see as if
it were yesterday the group in which I felt so interested in the drawing-room
at Kingstown, now thirty-five years ago.' The second daughter married the
Rev. R. F. Wilson (whom Dr. Pusey had tried to engage as incumbent for his
Leeds church) ; the two younger daughters died in early girlhood.

1 86 VISIT TO DELGANY RECTORY.
need concern himself with the personal views of his Bishop. . . .
Thank you for wishing me to go to Mr. Trench's. Lord Adare
was so good as to ask me to his father's, not far from Mr. T.'s,
and Mrs. Monsell's x in the same direction, but it seems as though
visiting was not meant for me. . . . Dear Lucy says, ' Thank
Mr. Keble for his message, and send '  ' Well, I think I may
send my love.' She is in most peaceful, glad enjoyment of her
new blessings, such as one cannot express.
One visit Dr. Pusey paid in Ireland ; to the Rev.
William Cleaver, the saintly Rector of Delgany, a village
beautifully situated at the western entrance to the Glen of
the Downs, in the County Wicklow. Long years after
wards he spoke of the impression he had carried away of
its beauty, especially of the vivid green of the rectory
lawn. He always seemed to prize any kindness from
'Evangelicals,' and preserved two letters, endorsed by
him, ' Mr. Cleaver.' The invitation was at first apparently
for Friday ; after mentioning ' five o'clock on Saturday ' as
the time for dinner, and his wish to get ' Mr. Daly ' 2 to
meet him, Mr. Cleaver wrote : —
I do indeed appreciate, dear sir, your appropriation of Friday
to religious exercises. There was a time when we observed the
day ourselves as you do ; and our servants also followed our
example in keeping it as a day of abstinence. But the perhaps
undue apprehension of its becoming a form made us discontinue
the practice. Most truly yours,
W. Cleaver.
It is reported that Mr. Daly was more disputatious
than was agreeable to either his host or the distinguished
1 Hon. Harriet Monsell, later Superior of the Clewer Sisterhood.
2 Afterwards Bishop Daly.

1841.] LETTERS FROM REV. W. CLEAVER. 1 87
guest, who must have written some kind words to Mr.
Cleaver after he left Delgany.1
From Rev. W. Cleaver.
Delgany, September 2, 1841.
My dear Dr. Pusey,— I beg to return my best thanks for
your last kind note, and the copy of sermons which accompanied
it. I will be sure to deliver your message to Mr. Daly.
But I am sure he will concur with myself in saying of you
' anything but pugnacious.' I was thinking of you on board the
packet during the high wind, and fear that you must have had a
very rough passage.
Let us be brought at last, however, to the haven where we
would be, and we shall be content to have had a somewhat rough
passage to it. It has pleased God it should be so with you. May
we be seeing land more and more distinctly.
I am, dear Dr. Pusey,
With a cordial response to, and
Return of your kind wishes,
Very truly yours,
Wm. Cleaver.
On our homeward way (Mrs. Brine writes) we crossed from
Dublin to Bristol, and had a very rough, long passage. Philip and
I were left on deck wrapped up in rugs, and there I lay and
watched my father standing with some other gentlemen and the
captain on the bridge, well blown about ; but the enjoyment of
my father's face I can remember to this hour as he watched the
magnificent rolling waves.
Pusey is back from Ireland (Mr. Mozley wrote to his sister,
September 18, 1841). I accompanied him to his house from the
Cathedral this morning, and had a long talk. . . . The Dublin
See Appendix for an account of this ' Evangelical ' home, by James
Anthony Froude, too interesting to omit preserving in connection with Dr.
Pusey's visit.

188 VISIT TO ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
[priests] were courteous and civil, but with nothing remarkable
about them mentally. He said he only saw one who interested
him at all. . . . 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.1
I am going on an anxious mission to Addington (Dr. Pusey
wrote to Mr. Keble, Monday, September 27, 1841), where the
Archbishop wished to see me to ask about things here. I keep it
a secret, but you will remember me. I stay probably till Friday
morning.
To Rev. J. H. Newman.
Grosvenor Square, October 1.
The whole of the Archbishop's manner and all he has
said has been very kind ; he had nothing definite to propose, but
wished to impress on us the importance of quiet, in order to regain
the confidence which had been shaken. He spoke with the
greatest value and respect for you as well as Keble, and for the
service which had been done to the Church. . . . He said what
had most disquieted people since Tract 90 was the British Critic
(and indeed the tone of those three articles does seem to have
given deep offence, and some have ceased to take it in). . . .
His way of speaking was so confidential, that I hardly know
what to put on paper ; but his real object is to befriend us ; he
acquits us of any wrong doctrine, really values the services which
have been rendered, wants to be able to defend us to others.
1 Among them [the visitors] at one time was Dr. Pusey. . . . He expressed
a wish to witness the ceremony of a religious profession, and Mrs. Aikenhead
. . . willingly made an exception in his favour, and invited him to a pro
fession in Stanhope Street, on which occasion his respectful demeanour and
recollected manner much struck those who observed him. — Life of Mary
Aikenhead, foundress in 1815 of the Irish Order of ' Sisters of Charity,'
p. 257. Dublin, 1879.

1841.] BISHOPS' CHARGES. 1 89
Fresh anxieties were crowding upon him. Dr. Newman
has told us of the ' second blow ' which came upon him
this year.
The Bishops one after another began to charge against me.
It was a formal, determinate movement. . . . They went on in
this way directing charges at me, for three whole years.1
Every attack upon his friend was a blow on Dr. Pusey's
heart, all the more since, in spite of his refusing almost to
the end to recognize the differences between them, he can
hardly have been without misgivings as to the effect upon
Mr. Newman of this series of episcopal charges. And
then (to use the latter's words), 'as if all this were not
enough, there came the affair of the Jerusalem Bishopric.'
With this matter, which pressed heavily upon Mr. Newman,
Dr. Pusey was not at this time seriously occupied ; the
scheme had been started by the King of Prussia, Frederic
William IV., who persuaded the English Government and
Church to commission a Bishop to take charge alike of
Anglicans, German Protestants, and any others who chose
to put themselves under him. Dr. Pusey was inclined at
first to hope that the power of Catholicity would prevail,
and the various Protestant sectarians be united to the
Anglican communion, but Mr. Newman was strong
against 'the proposed alliance with the German Pro
testants : Lutheranism and Calvinism, he urged, had been
condemned as heresies by the East as well as the West,'
and Dr. Pusey's first view, that a Bishop for the English at
Jerusalem was not contrary to the rule of antiquity (which
permitted that people speaking different languages, though
in the same place, might each have a Bishop), was altered
' Apologia pro Vita Sua (ed. 1873), pp. 139, 140.

19° JERUSALEM BISHOPRIC.
on finding 'that the congregation at Jerusalem, which
was pleaded as a reason for establishing the bishopric,
amounted to four persons.' 1
What an experiment ! (he wrote to the Archbishop of Canter
bury), to bring together persons, one knows not whom, sound or
unsound, pious or worldly, bound together by no associations,
accustomed . to no obedience, who on the very Lord's Day have
practically but one service, and scarcely any through the year
besides ; never kneel in the public worship of God, sitting when
they sing their hymns, and standing when they receive the Holy
Eucharist — under pastors consenting to receive Episcopal ordina
tion, but not, as themselves contend, valuing it — if this may even
be without profanation, — and make ourselves responsible for them,
and exhibit these as specimens of the English Church to the
Greek Communion, which has just heard again of us, and is
beginning to value us.
In Mr. Newman's view 'the proposed Bishopric was the
foundation of a new body which was to supplant eventually
all the other portions of the Church ;' in Mr. Gladstone's
' it was to inaugurate an experimental or fancy Church.'
On Michaelmas Day, 1841, Mr. Keble wrote to Dr.
Pusey : —
My Professorship 2 ends, I believe, the 13th December. I can
resign as much sooner as may be thought right, after reading my
lecture, which is all ready.
No one could doubt that Mr. Isaac Williams was the
fittest person to succeed to the vacant chair, but the oppo
nents of Tract 90 seized on the opportunity of ' condemning
Tractarianism by a side-wind,' and put up Mr. Garbett, a
man of culture, but no poet, as the Anti-Tractarian
candidate. An immense effort was made to secure Mr,
1 See Life, ii. pp. 248-60. * Of Poetry.

1841J POETRY PROFESSORSHIP, 191
Williams's election, and Mr. Newman believed it might
have been successful had the question come to the poll ; but
on a comparison of votes Mr. Williams withdrew from the
contest. The minority (Mr. Mozley wrote to his sister) of 623 was a
great blow to the opposite side, who had been counting on a
majority of 3 to 1. . . . The Master of Balliol gives out that he
considers Garbett the most improper man in the University for
the office.1 ['¦""?.
Bishop Bagot, in a letter to Dr. Pusey of January 28,
1842, begs him to thank Mr. Isaac Williams for 'a very
amiable letter ' which he had received from him after the
election to the Poetry Professorship, and adds : —
Let us now hope that the termination of the contest will tend
at least to peace ; but, my dear sir, there will not be peace, or any
general right understanding [as to] where you yourselves would
lead us if you cannot restrain those younger men who, professing
to be your followers, run into extremes, but who, in fact, cease to
follow any persons who do not go to the same extent they them
selves judge to be right.
The Bishop expected from Dr. Pusey what he was
powerless to effect. There was a general feeling of strain
and unsettlement. Cardinal Newman has described the state
of his own mind at this time — the doubt which had arisen
long before, and which he had laid, but which followed
him like a ghost, ever with him, though seen only by him
self. He was wholly reticent on the subject with those
who, like Ward and Oakeley, exerted influence and drew
him far beyond the via media which he had advocated,
and with Dr. Pusey, who, unvexed by doubts, always took
1 Letters of Rev. J. B. Mozley, p. 126.

192 DISTURBING ELEMENTS.
it for granted that he and his friend must be of one mind
on all important points. Yet, however much Newman's
soul dwelt apart, it could not be but that the very fact of
change and misgivings in so great a mind must have had
a disturbing influence on the highly charged atmosphere
around him. Not what he said, but what he was, told on
his followers. When he wrote, ' I am almost in despair of
keeping men together. The only possible way is a
monastery. . . . Yet the clamour is so great . . . that I
shall be stopped,'1 he expresses increasing trouble and
perplexity more than in any words to Dr. Pusey.
The growing difference between the friends is pathetic ;
Mr. Newman conscious of it, and at times avoiding inter
course with Dr. Pusey, lest he should implicate or influence
him — the latter still believing that any difference between
them was no more than varying shades of the same
thoughts. It was a bad time ; the Bishops aggrieved,
believing that he and Mr. Newman had thrown the reins
on the neck of the team they were supposed to drive,2 and
the latter aggrieved and alienated by the Bishop's Charges.
Out they came, in quick succession, in the spring of 1842 ;
Copleston of Llandaff, Pepys of Worcester, Musgrave of
Hereford, Thirlwall of St. David's, Blomfield of London,
Denison of Salisbury, and, alas ! Bishop Bagot of Oxford.
The Bishops of Chester, Lichfield, Durham, and Win
chester had charged against the Tract in the previous
autumn. 1 Letter to J. R. Hope, Life, ii. p. 268,
2 A fortnight since (Mr. Henderson wrote to Dr. Pusey, Ash Wednesday,
1842) the Bishop of London said this to myself, ' I remarked yesterday to the
Archbishop, and he quite agreed with me, that we had been worse treated by
the Oxford writers than we have ever been by the Evangelical party in the
whole course of our government in the Church.'

1842.] THE NEW SCHOOL. 1 93
' There were no converts to Rome,' Newman tells us,
' till after the condemnation of Tract 90,' and now two or
three passed over to the Roman Communion ; and, as
he adds —
The new party rapidly formed and increased, in and out of
Oxford. . . . These men cut into the original movement at an
angle, fell across its line of thought, and then set about turning
that line in its own direction.1 . . . Nothing was clearer concerning
them than that they needed to be kept in order ; and on me, who
had so much to do with the making of them, that duty was as
clearly incumbent ; and it is equally clear . . . that I was just the
person, above all others, who could not undertake it2
He could not, for clouds were gathering round himself ;
and his conscience, ever sensitive and strong, forced him to
avoid all guidance of others, when he was not sure of the
right path.
' Ward and Oakeley,' Dr. Pusey wrote to him (Whitsun
Eve, 1842), 'seem to have in view chiefly the building on ;
I wish our foundations to be broader and deeper, and
more settled. Ward's sympathies are most with those
whom he is anxious to retain ; mine most with those who
are advancing, and in danger of being repelled. But when
so great a work is going on, so many minds stirred, and
progress everywhere, one must not surely neglect those
whom any may think weak, for the sake of those who
seem strong and are bolder. One cannot afford to part
with any, to discourage any.'
In another note he reports to Newman that an un
named person feared 'that you did not express so dis
tinctly as you felt, the duty of abiding by our Church ;
people about you had given him this impression generally,
1 Apologia, p. 141. * Ibid. pp. 163, 164 (ed. 1873).

194 LETTERS TO ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
not, of course, that he was prying or suspicious, but it had
somehow been forced upon him.'
Dr. Newman's reply probably brought the following
undated note : —
My very dear Newman, — ... I really do not think you
know how much people love and respect you, and what sympathy
they feel with you. I should never have written about persons
who ' criticize ' ; it was on account of persons who were perplexed ;
persons younger than yourself, who look up to you, and did not
know how much you meant.
I felt satisfied that you did not mean to imply any doubt
about Anglican views, nor do I think ought others ; I only meant
that some would have liked to have known more explicitly that
you did not.
Forgive my troubling you thus; do not think or say any
more of what I have said. I have wished I could have had some
share of your trials ; but I have not been worthy of them. If I
may say so, God bless you in them.
Your very affectionate and grateful friend,
E. B. Pusey.
As usual in troublous times, Dr. Pusey came to the
front, and wrote a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury,
in order to set matters fairly before the Bishops.
I like your slips very much indeed (Mr. Newman wrote of the
first proofs sent to him), and think them quite beautiful, though
the effect of the publication I cannot divine.1
It appears on the whole to have done good, and to
have influenced more or less several of the Bishops.
Amid the manifold troubles of this year Dr. Pusey
1 The letter itself is the most striking of the compositions which Pusey
produced. . . . No previous task of the kind to which he had set his hand
had been so delicate and so difficult ; never had he written . . - with so keen
a sense of urgent and increasing danger. — Life, ii. p. 278.

1842.] SUSPICIONS AND DISQUIET. 1 95
found refreshment and joy in the growing beauty of his
eldest child's character. lie writes to Mr. Keble during
the 'octave of Christmas, 1841,' 'Dear Lucy, whom you
contributed to prepare for confirmation, is going on very
lovelily.' He was wont to spend his Christmas vacation
with his children, at Clifton or Brighton. ' I remember,'
his daughter writes, ' the delightful walks we had with him
over some downland, to Bristol Cathedral ; and there I
learnt first, for the rest of my life, never to look about me
in church.' The Long Vacation of 1842 was spent by Dr. Pusey
with his children at Margate. There is a sad letter from
him, written from thence to Mr. Newman, concerning the
restlessness and vague disquiet prevailing amongst their
friends. Everybody almost suspected every one. I found that I had
added to, or perhaps occasioned, much of the suspiciousness by
my visits to the convents.1 People do not know what to think
when they arc in a panic. . . . The Roman Catholics give out
that you and a body of others arc coming over. ... It is painful
to be suspected, though you have so long been accustomed to
commit your innocence to God.
Newman's answer was not reassuring. In his great
'Apologia' he says, 'From the end of 1841 I was on my
deathbed as regards my membership with the Anglican
Church, though at the time I became aware of it only
by degrees.' a And now (August 24, 1842) he acknow
ledges to his friend ' misgivings not about her Orders, but
about her ordinary enjoyment of the privileges they confer
while she is so separate from Christendom, so tolerant of
heresy.' But he adds that the very fact of his holding a
In Ireland. k ' Apologia, p. 147 (ed. 1873).

ig6 XEIVMAN'S RETRACTATION.
living would make it treachery on his part to countenance
or be intimate with those seceding from the Anglican
Church; and that he was hurt at this being thought
possible. In past years he had often used stronger language
against Rome than Dr. Posey could approve of, and now
he wrote : — Ltttlemore, Martyrdom [January 31], 1843.
I very much fear you wfl! think it necessary that I
should ask your pardon for something I have been doing, as if it
were rash — but my conscience would not stand out. You have
before now truly said that Zhave said far severer things against
Rome than yourself — and I am so sure of it that I have Voeght
I ought to nnsay them. This I did about ten weeks cr two
months ago, and I believe that I have said it in the periodicals —
but I have not seen it yet I have said r.cthznr, of coarse, on
docfrir.il points ; but only as to abuse. You stand on very different
grounds, and have to unsay nothing. I would not take advice of
any one. because I wished to have the sole responsibility. ... If
any one values his luncheon on Thursday, he must not go to bear
me at Sl Marys, for my sermon is of portentous length — and my
only satisfaction is that, if any persons go out of cnrioaty, they
will be punished.
I have not wished you a happy new year.
Ever yours affectionately,
J. H. N.
Dr. Pusey replied that he was not surprised, having
heard some report on the subject, and that he did not take
the letter to mean that Newman thought 'any form of
speaking against Roman doctrine wrong,' since he had
not retracted 'certain expressions in the same sentences
which did speak against it, but more gently.' He also
reminded him that there were those who watched every

1843.] LETTER FROM NEWMAN. I97
expression of his, ' to make it as Romanizing, or as mis
trustful of our position in the abstract, as they can.' ' I
fear some friends will be dismayed,' he adds, . . . 'but
good must come in the end from an act of conscience. I
did not for a moment wish it otherwise.'
Rev. J. H. Newman to E. B. P.
February 3, 1843.
I am very much vexed that you should have heard of
the matter you write about from any one but me, but it is not my
fault. [He then explains that a letter containing a proof had fallen
into the hands of one for whom it was not intended.]
Nothing was farther from my wish than to imply any doubt
about the Anglican theory — but I had rather not speak at all on
the subject, which I have done as a matter of conscience. If
persons will criticize the mode, let them. They have criticized me
too often already for me to be called on to justify myself to them.
If you are asked, the simple case is that you knew nothing about
it. Please say I am obstinate and dangerous and impracticable.
Ever yours affectionately,
J. H. N.
P.S. — If all the Bishops will censure me personally, it is not
wonderful (by-the-bye) that I have my quid pro quo. I have no
character to lose.
Dr. Pusey sent (Saturday morning, February 4) a
loving, soothing letter in reply to this note, telling him
that he had written on account of young men, who looked
up to him, and were perplexed, not knowing how much
was meant.
Your note is very kind, as is everything you do (Newman
replied).1 Mere facts will make a very dry work. Comment there
1 The note is undated ; it was probably written in the evening of February 4.

198 NEWMAN'S INCREASING HARASS.
cannot help being ; for what is comment but the colour which the
individual writer gives them ? And I fear that a wish to be united
to Rome is part of the feeling of mind and the comment with
which I should write, did I write. I am not sure that people
misunderstood me — though I don't know what they say.
One thing I am sure of, that you in your great kindness have
far more ' confidence ' in me than I deserve. For years I have
been eager that people should not have confidence in me — because
I have not confidence in myself.
To Mr. Keble Dr. Pusey wrote (February 6) : —
I fear he (N.) is sadly harassed by the condemnations
of Bishops, and by things said on one side and the other ; so that
something soothing might be of use to him. . . . N.'s letter seems
to me only a withdrawing of language, which always surprised
me, as being so much bolder than any I should have ventured
upon. ... I do not see that people ought to be disturbed about
it. C. Marriott said he ' was very glad of it.'

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER X.
EXTRACT FROM ' TRACT' OO AND ITS CONSEQUENCES,' BY JAMES
ANTHONY FROUDE. 'GOOD WORDS,' l88l, p. 306.
After I had taken my degree ... I spent some months in
Ireland in the family of an Evangelical clergyman.1 I need not
mention names which have no historical notability. My new
friends were favourable specimens of a type which was then com
mon in Ireland. . . . Mr.  and the circle into which I was
thrown, were, to begin with, high-bred and cultivated gentlemen.
They had seen the world. Some of them had been connected with
thc public movements of the time. . . . My friend's father had
been attacked in his Palace, and the folios in the library bore the
marks of having been used to barricade the windows. He himself
spoke as if he was living on a volcano ; but he was as unconcerned
as a soldier at his post, and so far as outward affairs went he was
as kind to Catholics as to Protestants. His outdoor servants were
Catholics, and they seemed attached to him, but he knew that
they belonged to secret societies, and that if they were ordered to
kill him, they would do it. The presence of exceptional danger
elevates characters which it does not demoralize. There was a
quiet good sense, an intellectual breadth of feeling in this house
hold, which to me, who had been bred up to despise Evangelicals
as unreal ancl affected, was a startling surprise. I had looked
down on Dissenters especially, as being vulgar among their other
enormities ; here were persons whose creed differed little from that
of thc Calvinistic Methodists, yet they were easy, natural, and
dignified. In Ireland they were part of a missionary garrison,
1 See p. 187. Mr. Froude was tutor to Mr. Cleaver's eldest son, Euseby.

200 AN IRISH PARSONAGE.
and in their daily lives they carried the colours of their faith. In
Oxford reserve was considered a becoming feature in the religious
character. The doctrines of Christianity were mysteries, and
mysteries were not lightly to be spoken of. Christianity at 
was part of the atmosphere which we breathed ; it was the great
fact of our existence, to which everything else was subordinated.
Mystery it might be, but not more of a mystery than our own
bodily lives, and the system of which we were a part. The
problem was to arrange all our thoughts and acquirements in
harmony with the Christian revelation, and to act it out consistently
in all that we said and did. The family devotions were long, but
there was no formalism, and everybody took a part in them. A
chapter was read and talked over, and practical lessons were
drawn out of it ; otherwise there were no long faces or solemn
affectations; the conversations were never foolish or trivial;
serious subjects were lighted up as if by an ever-present spiritual
sunshine. . . . More beautiful human characters than those of
my Irish Evangelical friends I had never seen, and I have never
seen since.

CHAPTER XI.
THE CONDEMNED SERMON.
J843-
Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just ;
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
2 Henry VI. iii.
Until the publication of the second volume of Dr. Pusey's
Life, the true story of the condemnation of his sermon,
'The Holy Eucharist a Comfort to the Penitent,' had
never been told. Even in ' The Oxford Movement,' pub
lished in 1891, Dean Church wrote ofthe condemnation : —
To the end of the business all was wrought in secrecy: no
one knows to this day how the examination of the sermon was
conducted, or what were the opinions of the judges. ... To this
day no one knows what were the definite passages, what was the
express or necessarily involved heresy or contradiction of the
formularies on which the condemnation was based ; nor — except
on the supposition of gross ignorance of English divinity on the
part of the judges — is it easy for a reader to put his fingers on
the probably incriminating passages.1
Dr. Liddon was determined that all concerning that
unjust judgment should be brought to light, believing the
condemned sermon the most important in Dr. Pusey's life,
1 in its practical effects upon himself and the Church at
1 The Oxford Movement, pp. 287, 288.

202 SERMON ON THE HOLY EUCHARIST.
large.' After all the original letters and documents kept
by her father relating to the matter had been placed by
his daughter at Dr. Liddon's disposal, 'he told me,'
she writes, ' with a look of triumph in his face, that now
my father should be vindicated, and the truth told as"
regarded his unjust suspension, as it had never been told
before.' He took care that they should be bound together
in one thick volume, labelled ' Suspension Sermon ' (here
after to be laid up in the Library of Pusey House at
Oxford), and this volume has furnished material for the
following brief story.
The sermon was preached before the University, on
the Fourth Sunday after Easter, May 14, 1843, anc^ was
intended to be one of a series on Comforts to the Penitent,
conceived with a view to mitigate what many felt the
extreme severity of his Tract on Baptism.
Thirty-one years later, Dr. Pusey said that it never
occurred to him, 'that any question would be raised on
the subject,' since the sermon ' implied rather than stated
even the doctrine of the Real Objective Presence, and was
written chiefly in the language of the Fathers. Its one
object was to inculcate the love of our Redeemer for us
sinners in the Holy Eucharist.' It set forth the teaching
of 'Scripture, the Fathers, and Liturgies, and concluded
with some practical considerations, addressed to the
Chapter of Christ Church (which at that time only sanc
tioned a monthly celebration of the Eucharist in their
cathedral), and also to those wishing much for more
spiritual privileges before they were, perhaps, ready to
receive them.'
There were, however, too many on the watch against

1843.] DR. WYNTER'S PROCEEDINGS. 203
Dr. Pusey, and ready to take his contrary part. Amongst
these, Dr. Faussett, Margaret Professor of Divinity, was
one of the bitterest, and on Tuesday, the 16th, he applied
to the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Wynter, to put in force the
Statute De Concionibus against the sermon. ' In reply to
this request,' Dr. Wynter wrote in his statement,1 ' I gave,
as far as I recollect, a promise to put the Statute in force.'
On Dr. Faussett himself, as Margaret Professor, would
fall the duty of being one of the judges to decide on the
orthodoxy of a debated sermon ; and it was therefore a
singularly unbecoming action to come forward as accuser
in a matter on which he was bound to be a judge. Dr.
Wynter wrote to Dr. Pusey, asking for a copy of the sermon,
of which, he said, ' the general scope and certain particular
passages ' had aroused painful misgivings in his mind, with
regard to their strict conformity to the doctrine of the
Church of England.
E. B. P. to Rev. J. Keble.
Wednesday evening (May 17, 1843).
My dear Friend, — ... I wish just now to tell you of my
troubles. I have learnt this afternoon that some one has applied
to the V.-C. to put in force the Statute ofthe six or seven Doctors
against me for a sermon last Sunday on the Holy Eucharist, and
he has sent for a copy of it. There is nothing to be done for me,
but to pray God that it turn to the good of His Church and of
myself. ' I have wished I could have had some share of your
trials,' he had written, in February, to Newman. ' But I
1 'A manuscript account of the whole proceedings,' placed at Dr.
Liddon's disposal ' by the great courtesy of Dr. Wynter's representatives.' —
See Life, ii. p. 309.

204 ANXIETY ABOUT LUCY PUSEY.
have not been worthy of them.' Now he wrote, ' You will
be very sorry that the storm has at last reached me,' —
that he was quite sure there was nothing in his sermon
against the Church of England, and that he had added
references to it, thinking it best that his judges ' might not
be exposed unconsciously to condemn, e.g. St. Cyril of
Alexandria ' when they thought they were only condemn
ing him.
The trial involved in these proceedings fell on Dr. Pusey
when he was in deep anxiety about his eldest and most
beloved child, who was seriously ill. There was a decided
improvement, and he wrote to Miss Rogers on May 22,
the same day that he sent his letter to Dr. Wynter : —
I know not whether I ought to construe your letter as though
all danger of consumption at this time were removed. But, . . .
my sanguineness prevailed on the whole.
My own fever seems nearly gone, but I am still a prisoner to
the house. . . . The painful business I spoke of is now known in
Oxford, but I do not wish it spoken of elsewhere. It is nothing
less than my being arraigned for teaching contrary to the doctrine
of the Church of England in my sermon on Sunday week. It
was on the Holy Eucharist. Now, although I am quite certain
that there is nothing in contravention of that doctrine, of course
if others interpret that doctrine differently, they may make out
that there is, so what will be the result, no one knows. If those
appointed as judges are adverse (as most of the Heads are), they
may condemn me, and therewith suspend me from preaching in
the University. This is a small matter in itself; but the apparent
condemnation of God's truth, though by a small number, yet as a
University act, might be very injurious. Meantime I hope, as I
always do, and do not look on. ... I suspect it is an attack
from an extreme quarter which has long been on the watch. My
love and blessing to the dear children. I am very glad to hear
that dear M. is trying to be patient and please God.

I843-I THE SIX DOCTORS. 205
He asked for a short delay in sending the copy of his
sermon, partly on account of illness, partly that references
might be added to show that he was using the language of
the Fathers, not his own. On May 22, he sent the copy
to the Vice-Chancellor, with a long letter, in which he
says, ' Neither before nor after preaching my sermon had
I the slightest thought that any could arraign it as con
trary to the doctrines of our Church.'
He also mentions the fact of his having frequently
expressed his ' rejection of the doctrine of Transubstantia
tion,' and declares that while firmly believing in the Real
Presence of the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist,
he holds it ' as I do the absolute fore-knowledge of God
and man's free agency, without having any thought to
explain how, and believe both, as Bishop Andrewes says,
as a mystery.'
Meanwhile Dr. Wynter had appointed the members of
the Court which was to try him. They were, besides his
accuser (Dr. Faussett), Dr. Jenkyns, Master of Balliol ;
Dr. Hawkins, Provost of Oriel ; Dr. Symons, Warden of
Wadham ; Dr. Ogilvie, Regius Professor of Pastoral
Theology ; and Dr. Jelf, Canon of Christ Church. The
last, Dr. Pusey's oldest and dear friend, wrote to him that
he would never have consented to be a member of the
Court, 'unless, from his recollection of the sermon and
Dr. Pusey's subsequent explanations, he had not a confi
dent hope that there would be nothing in it which it might
be necessary to condemn : ' and that his sole motive for not
declining was ' the hope of benefiting ' his friend.
The six Doctors met twice, the second time (May 27)
£0 deliver, severally, written judgments. Five condemned

206 THE SERMON CONDEMNED.
the sermon as contrary to the Church's teaching ; Dr. Jelf
alone declaring 'there is nothing tangible which can be
called dissonum to our Church's teaching ; there is, to my
mind, nothing contrarium.'
Dr. Pusey, when sending in his sermon, had requested
the Vice-Chancellor to ' choose that course allowed by the
Statute which permits the accused to answer for himself.'
However, when the Doctors had separately delivered
their opinions, Dr. Wynter says in his statement : —
I proceeded to declare that I considered Dr. Pusey guilty of
the charge laid against him, namely, that he had preached certain
things 1 which were either dissonant from, or contrary to, the
doctrine of the Church of England.
Thus, in defiance of common law, of Canon law, of
English notions of justice, of precedent, and of his own
appeal to be allowed to plead in his own defence, Dr. Pusey
' was condemned without a hearing.'
Dr, Liddon mentions that there had been eight cases
since the passing of the Statute (four before 1640, and four
after the Restoration), and that, in all, the accused preacher
' appeared in person before the Vice-Chancellor.' 2 Possibly
Dr. Wynter may have had uneasy forebodings as to the
effect which would be produced in the University and the
country by giving Dr. Pusey the opportunity granted to
every criminal.
This, however, being refused, it only remained to pro
nounce sentence. The Vice-Chancellor had, by the Statute,
1 What these 'things' were was never publicly stated, and apparently for
the reason that the judges were not agreed on them, and that the vague
hostility to the sermon in which they were agreed would, not bear general
discussion. — Life, ii. p. 317.
» See ibid. p. 318.

1843.] SUBTERFUGES. 207
to chose between recantation and suspension. Desiring the
former, and the Doctors not agreeing, he betook himself
to Dr. Hawkins, who framed certain ' objections,' numbered
1, 2, 3, made out against the sermon, and recommended
that, should Dr. Pusey desire to disclaim the opinions
in these 'objections,' it should be in their exact words.
But first his friend Dr. Jelf was sent to him, to find out
whether he would agree to the terms on which he would
even be allowed to see these ' objections.' He has himself
recorded that he received no communication whatever
from the Court until told privately by Dr. Jelf that the
sermon was condemned ; that he was told at the same
time that the Vice-Chancellor positively refused to hear
his defence, but that if he would sign certain statements of
doctrine, the sentence might be reversed. It was made a
condition of his seeing these statements that he was to take
no copy of them, consult no friend, and keep the fact of his
receiving them, and their contents, a strict secret.
Dr. Pusey consented to these outrageous conditions,
'for the peace of the Church.' Dr. Liddon has written
strongly of the grave error of judgment into which he fell
by so doing ; by not ' insisting upon the entire publicity
of all that passed between himself and his judges,' together
with ' full liberty to consult his friends,' and by not at once
stating that he would only communicate with Dr. Wynter
directly, and in writing, on his acceptance of the con
ditions. Dr. Jelf was again sent to him with two documents,1
one, the ' objections ' to his sermon drawn out by
Dr. Hawkins, numbered 1, 2, and 3 ; the other, three
1 For the whole text of these documents see Life, ii. pp, 323, 324.

208 OUTRAGEOUS PROPOSALS.
statements in connection with these objections, each
beginning ' I did not intend,' which Dr. Pusey was required
to sign. The ' objections ' in the first paper were not
definite statements contained in the sermon ; but that
'certain passages,' (i) 'convey the idea of,' etc.; (2) 'sug
gest the idea of,' etc. ; (3) ' represent,' etc. That is, the
greatest theologian in Oxford was condemned unheard,
not on the ground of any statement in his sermon contrary
to the doctrine of the Church of England, but because
certain passages ' conveyed an idea ' to his judges' minds
which they conceived to contradict that doctrine.1
No. 1 of ' I did not intend ' Dr. Pusey was willing to
adopt entirely; to part of No. 2 he objected 'in point of
form,' as an unauthorized formula, and to part of No. 3 as
' going beyond the formularies of our Church.' He wrote
a long letter to the Vice-Chancellor, in which, after com
municating his decision, he reminded him that he had
asked for ' definite propositions ' of his own in the sermon,
' not adhering to our formularies,' and said that he believed
proceedings founded on the ' objections ' would be un
statutable, as well as harsh and unjust. The words in
No. 3 which Dr. Pusey refused to sign were : —
I did not intend to represent the Body and Blood of Christ
as present with the consecrated elements by virtue of their con
secration before they are received by the faithful communicant
and independently of his faith.
1 ' It was this paper,' Dr. Pusey wrote later to Newman, ' which showed
me the entire injustice of the whole proceedings, and it was on the ground of
what I saw in this paper that I told the V.-C, when I sent him my protest,
that if I might have alluded to all I knew, my protest must have been much
stronger. For this paper showed me that they had no definite propositions at
all, contrary to the formularies, but only statements, on which they put their
own construction, and derived from them senses distinct from mine ; besides
that, they went beyond or against our formularies.'

1843.] SENTENCE OF SUSPENSION. 2O9
He could not of course sign such words. The
point narrowed itself to this : he held the doctrine of the
whole undivided Catholic Church, and was amply prepared
to prove that in so doing he held and taught nothing
contrary to our formularies ; his accusers and judges did
not hold it, but were far from being ready to prove it
contrary to the teaching of the Anglican Church, and were
firmly determined not to give him any opportunity for
argument. A third time Dr. Jelf was sent to him, on June 1, with
three shorter formulae, more objectionable, if possible, than
the first. 'I considered this,' he said later, 'a mere
mockery.' Again he was allowed no copy, nor even to
have in his hand the paper on which they were written.
On the reception of his reply to his judges, which
Dr. Jelf delivered that evening, the Vice-Chancellor re
solved to impose the punishment of suspension on
Dr. Pusey. The formal notification (in Latin) of the
sentence, suspending him from preaching within the pre
cincts of the University for two years, is dated June 2,
1843, and that morning Dr. Jelf brought the tidings to
Dr. Pusey. 'The Vice-Chancellor allowed him to tell
Dr. Pusey tfiat he had not had a hearing.' He immediately
sent a protest against it to Dr. Wynter, declaring that he
had ' ground to think ' that, ' as no propositions out of my
sermon have been exhibited to me as at variance with the
doctrines of our Church, so neither can they ; but that I
have been condemned either on a mistaken construction
of my words, founded upon the doctrinal opinions of my
judges, or on grounds distinct from the formularies of our
Church.' P

210 PROTEST.
But he was hampered in every public word by his
unfortunate promise to keep his judges' manoeuvres secret.
He sent a private letter with his protest to the Vice-
Chancellor, saying he had tried to avoid in the latter any
thing which might betray how much he really knew of the
grounds of his condemnation, in which case he must have
spoken very much more strongly. He adds : —
It does seem to me so utterly contrary to all justice, that
when, of three sets of propositions, I accepted entirely the first
and largest, of the other two I accepted ex animo all which was
contained in our formularies, ... it does seem to me to be so
utterly contrary to all principles of justice and equity (not to
speak of charity) to afford me no further opportunity of vindi
cation, that I can only say I pray that my judges may not, in the
Great Day, receive the measure which they have dealt to me.
To Miss Rogers, his children's governess, he wrote
with his usual thoughtfulness for others : —
Christ Church, June 2, 1843.
My dear Friend, — I have what I fear will be heavy news
for you, though to me in itself light, that I am suspended from
preaching in the University for two years. This will open, I
fear, a fearful controversy, in which the Radical and political
press will pour out miserable floods of blasphemy.
However, I did not willingly occasion it, nor even choose the
subject willingly, and have done what I could to prevent it ; so I
am at rest. One thing I have thought of for some time, whether,
if this event did happen, it ought not to occasion a suspension of
my visits to Clifton, for, hitherto, however people spoke against
me, no authority had decided upon me ; now a body which, how
ever constituted, is the representative of the University, has
declared that I have taught doctrines at variance with those of
the Church of England ; and parents might well have misgivings
about me. There is no reason to decide at once ; your kind visit

1843.] INGENIOUS DEVICES. 211
to the sea with us cannot prejudice your school more than
hitherto ; so to this, please God, I shall look forward. . . .
My love and blessing to the dear children ; kindest regards to
all yours. Yours affectionately and faithfully, E. B. Pusey.
When Dr. Pusey's protest was made public, his judges
found themselves in a hole. They ' had never thought of
giving him a hearing before condemning him,' but were
most averse to it being known that they had condemned
him unheard, fearing the 'comments of all fair-minded
people in the University and elsewhere, who, without
knowing or caring much about theology, had distinct ideas
ofthe requirements of justice.' x
In this perplexity the Provost of Oriel, Dr. Hawkins,
ingenious rather than ingenuous throughout, suggested
that it might be made known that Dr. Pusey had been
communicated with, while keeping him to his promise of
secrecy. They knew that to allow what had passed between
Drs. Jelf and Pusey to be published would have brought
no small discredit on themselves, but, Dr. Hawkins wrote
to the Vice-Chancellor : —
Although your communications with Dr. Pusey have been
themselves private and confidential, I do not see any reason why
the fact should be private — the fact that Dr. Pusey had written to
you a note accompanying his sermon, and that in consequence of
it you had privately inquired of him through a mutual friend
whether he was likely to make such explanations as could be
satisfactory. Dr. Hawkins does not suggest it should be made
public that the sermon was condemned before even the
' Life, ii. p. 332.

212 FALSE REPORTS CIRCULATED.
private attempt to extort a recantation was made. He
then wrote to Dr. Jelf, impugning Dr. Pusey's * veracity
and honesty ' for making no mention in his public Protest
of the private messages sent to him. This charge
Dr. Pusey, of course, repudiated, complaining of the
unfair position in which he was placed by his scrupulous
observance of the obligation to secrecy. He wrote to
the Vice-Chancellor : —
I am quite willing to say absolutely nothing, or to enter into
the fullest explanation, as you think best or give me leave. Only,
I cannot make, or allow of, half statements (such as were those of
the Provost of Oriel, in part also mis-statements) which, without
the full explanation, would throw suspicion on my truth. I have
kept the whole nature of the communications a strict secret from
my nearest friends, as I was enjoined ; but unless equal silence is
imposed upon all, I must regard the understanding at an end, and
myself released from an engagement which was understood to be
mutual. He refused to make half-statements when pressed to
do so at Dr. Hawkins's suggestion ; he could not, he wrote
to Dr. Wynter, because —
It implies that which, in my mind, never took place. I have
no objection to its being stated that ' certain private ' communica
tions were made by you to me without leading to any satisfactory
result, ' provided I be allowed to say that secrecy is imposed upon
me as to the nature of those communications, and also that no
reports are circulated as to their nature.'
These reports, however, were circulated. His judges
took advantage of his strict and honourable observance of
his fatal promise. ' I have already heard,' he wrote to
Newman (June 4), ' of a report that certain private com
munications "had taken place between the Vice-Chancellor

1843.I SUPPLEMENT TO PROTEST. 213
and myself, which rendered my Protest inconsistent with
the facts of the case."' He was therefore obliged to
publish a supplement to his Protest, in which he said : —
I felt myself bound not to allude to the fact that, after it was
announced to me that my sermon had been condemned, I received
confidential communications from yourself. I had been informed,
when I received them, that the fact of my having received them,
as well as their contents, was strictly confidential, and this
injunction to entire silence had not been removed. ... To the
nature of those communications I can make no allusion, since you
saw right to impose silence on me. It is sufficient to say that
after they were concluded I received a message from yourself,
' Dr. Pusey has my full authority for saying that he has had no
hearing.' It ever was, and is, my full conviction, that had I had
the hearing which (for the sake of the University and the Church)
I earnestly asked for, I must have been acquitted.
I thought of this (he wrote to Newman) as getting rid of cavils
and replies, and pretences that I was alluding to what was con
fidential, or had misrepresented it, for I have to do with a very
dextrous caviller. And, after all, the V.-C.'s testimony that I have
had no hearing is the striking fact.
On Trinity Sunday (June 11), the fourth anniversary
of his wife's death, he wrote : —
Even the rest of this sacred day of rest is broken in upon. . . .
I have fallen into the hands of one or more, blinded by prejudice
and hostility, so that they have become hard-hearted, reckless,
unscrupulous, and I am no match for such men. ' The sons of
Zeruiah are too hard for me.' I feared, as soon as I knew it,
that they would make out a plausible case of inaccuracy against
me; people will believe just as they wish, and the whole con
troversy will be about my veracity, which will indispose people to
the truths of the sermon when it appears. . . . This is miserable
work for such a day as this ; I can only say, ' Draw me out of the
net which they have laid privily for me, for Thou art my God.'

214 ADDRESSES TO DR. WYNTER.
Such proceedings could not take place without arousing
indignation in fair-minded persons, even though the extent
of their injustice was far from being known ; and the next
move in the matter was an address to the Vice-Chancellor,
signed by sixty-one resident members of Convocation and
Bachelors of Civil Law, asking the Vice-Chancellor to make
known to the University the grounds on which the sentence
on Dr. Pusey was passed, in order that there might be no
doubt as to what doctrine the sentence stigmatized as
being contrary to that of the Church of England.
To this the Vice-Chancellor replied very shortly,
regretting that he could not comply with their request.
An address, signed by 230 non-resident members of
Convocation, was then forwarded to him by Mr. Badeley,
their legal adviser, the third and fourth names appended
to it being those of Mr. Gladstone and Judge Coleridge.
It deprecated, very briefly, ' that construction of the Statute
under which Dr. Pusey had been condemned ; which, con
trary to the general principles of justice, subjects a person
to penalties without affording him the means of explanation
or defence.' Dr. Wynter was furious ; he wrote a most intemperate
reply, and chose to mark his anger by sending the Uni
versity Bedel to London with his reply and the address,
which he refused to receive.
Have tidings of the correspondence between Badeley and the
Vice-Chancellor reached you ? (Mr. J. B. Mozley wrote to Mr.
Church).1 ' 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 oath ! You
1 The late Dean of St. Paul's.

1843.] INDIGNA TION ARO USED. 2 1 5
never saw such a document for unbridled folly. Gladstone, Judge
Coleridge, and all 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,
enjoying it more than I can describe. Gladstone is excessively
indignant.' x
Sir Thomas Acland wrote (June 11) to Dr. Pusey,
that— Gladstone too thought it absolutely necessary that you should
seek the judgment of the Church, and not seem by acquiescence
to give countenance to the reports ; he has a strong feeling that
there is a fearful and tyrannical endeavour in several quarters to
crush by calumny, or in some way, all freedom of thought and
development of Catholic truth on points not concluded by any
judgment of the Church. It is delightful to see how, as he rises
in the State, his religious interest seems to gain in freshness and
in intensity. Judge Coleridge wrote to the Vice-Chancellor later
with regard to his violent words against those who had
signed the address : —
My conduct proceeded and proceeds on the most undoubting
conviction that the course pursued towards Dr. Pusey was not
only cruel to him and radically unjust in principle, but most
dangerous to the Church, and directly conducive to the very ends
which yet, I doubt not, it was honestly intended to prevent.
There is a paper by, the Rev. Isaac Williams, which
Dr. Liddon thinks was intended for publication, in which
he writes of Dr. Pusey's treatment : —
Nothing has been known in our days like the feeling with
which it has been received by all within the more immediate
circles of Oxford Society; men look at each other as if some
1 Letters of J. B. Mozley, p. 145.

2l6 PUBLICATION OF THE SERMON.
wicked thing had been perpetrated on which they could not
venture to speak ; in all there is a deep feeling that it is not to end
here ; and a sense of love and reverence for the injured person,
strongly entertained, but never perhaps before fully known or
expressed, breaks out in sayings from men of all opinions, which
has much struck me. ' He is so marked by the hand of Heaven,
by sacred sorrows,' said one, 'there is something so sacrosanct
about him, that they dare not touch him ; it cannot be.' ' Why,
he is like a guardian angel to the place,' said another. . . . They
have resolutely refused to mention any one objectionable proposi
tion in the sermon, or in what way it is discordant with the Church
of England. All whom I have met with considered the sermon
very innocent and unexceptionable.
The sermon was published, though against its author's
first intentions.
I gave up my own feelings at first to your judgment (he wrote
to Newman). At first my feelings were to risk anything rather
than publish; then conviction of the necessity seemed to come
over me; and, at last, the general expectation that I should
publish seems to supersede private judgment.
Many years afterwards, a man of position and excep
tional culture, but of the extremest type of Low Church
men,1 looking upon Tractarian views as most pernicious
and even soul-destroying, told the writer that, hearing the
condemned sermon much talked of, he bought it and
read it. ' I suppose,' he added, ' that there are things in
it which theologians perceive to be wrong ; for myself, I
could only say, after reading it, " Happy man, happy man,
who can thus feel and write ! " '
My sermon, though free from controversy, is, as being full of
the Fathers, full of the highest doctrine (Dr. Pusey wrote to
1 The late Hon. George F. Colley, father of Sir George Colley.

1843.] OPINIONS OF THE SERMON. 217
Mr. Keble just before its publication). Some one said (though I
was quite unconscious of it) that it was ' very strong meat.' Now
I dread the ignorance of the present day, and that it would speak
against me when it would not speak against our Divines.
The sermon was published by the end of June, with a
Preface, a long catena of Anglican divines, and lengthy
notes, chiefly of reference to the Fathers.
Dr. Pusey must have found some comfort in the real
gratitude with which it was received by men of great
esteem. ' I have now to thank you ' (Mr. Arthur Acland
wrote), . . . ' for having furnished me with one of the
very few, if not the only thing which goes really to my
heart on that holy subject amongst the writings of the
members of the English Church ; ' and Sir George Prevost,
one of the most 'moderate' of High Churchmen, wrote,
'I am anxious to express my full conviction that there
are those to whom your statement of the doctrine of
the Eucharist has supplied a consolation such as they
never knew before. For their sake, not to speak of
yet higher considerations, I am sure you will not have
suffered in vain.' From Cambridge, Professor Mill wrote
that he felt, ' after reading your sermon, that the theology
of the Fathers on the Holy Eucharist had been in a
manner proscribed in your person.'
Amongst the many letters of thanks which he received,
one from Mr. Gladstone was especially valued.
13, Carlton House Terrace,
June 30, 1843.
My dear Dr. Pusey, — I have this morning received and read
your sermon, and I beg you to accept my best thanks for your
kindness in sending it to me.

2l8 LETTER FROM GLADSTONE.
Without presuming to go beyond my own sphere, I must say
that the surprise and regret with which I first heard of the Vice-
Chancellor's proceedings in relation to it are augmented by its
perusal, and I am quite at a loss to account to myself for steps
which seem so groundless. However unwarranted, they must be
deeply painful to one whose feelings have ever been kept so much
in harmony as yours with the actual Church of England, and it
may at first sight seem strange that a blow of this kind should fall
on such an one ; but doubtless therein lies the special wisdom of
the appointment. I cannot tell you with what warm appreciation
I read your Preface.
With the earnest prayer that you may enjoy abundant support
and guidance through these critical events,
I remain, my dear Dr. Pusey,
Very sincerely yours,
W. E. Gladstone.
An honorary degree had been given at the late com
memoration to a Unitarian, and Dr. Pusey wrote to
Newman (July 4) from Pusey, where he had gone at the
end of Term, of its being an undesirable 'juxtaposition,
to condemn me, and then with their eyes open or wilfully
shut ' to have given this degree.
' I have a very nice letter from Gladstone,' he added,
' about my sermon, which he had read. My elder brother
tells me our friends in the House of Commons cannot
find out what I have been condemned for. I have
not heard on the other side. I am much as I was,
but this place has not had a fair trial yet. I am not
worse.' He was much broken in health, and in another note
writes to Newman of feeling his strength daily lessening,
and being a good deal weaker than when he left Oxford,
but expresses the hope that, if fever abate, 'by God's

1843.] APPEAL TO QUEEN'S BENCH ADVISED. 219
blessing I may yet take my part in doing service for
His Church here ; ' and in another note (July 19) he
mentions ' the beautiful glowing sun of Sunday and
Monday ' as having done him much good, and his head
being stronger, so that he could ' think about things which
were a weariness to it before.'
At Pusey he was occupied in considering the question
of an appeal against his sentences to the Queen's Bench,
which many of his friends advised. Sir Roundell Palmer
had 'a very strong opinion in the matter of the six
Doctors, namely, that what the Vice-Chancellor had done
was quite illegal, and must, and would be, set aside upon
appeal to any superior authority having jurisdiction of
the matter.' l
E. B. P. to Rev. J. Keble.
Pusey, July 21, 1843.
You will be kindly glad to hear that Dr. Wootton
thinks me going on well, and that the chest is not affected. I
certainly have, by God's mercy, been recovering strength lately,
though out of much weakness. . . . Yet, although unable to do
anything yet, I still hope, through the prayers of my friends, to be
able again to do something for His Church.
The lawyer's opinion has only reached me in the shape that
' Hope is very anxious that you should try the Queen's Bench,'
but on which ground I know not. I wrote my doubts to N., and
await his answer. My own feeling was that I am best as I am,
taking wrong-dealing quietly, and that the V.-C, etc., are in a
difficulty rather than I; however, others see so much further
than I, that I have told N. I am ready to do whatever he thinks
1 At the end of a very long letter on legal points, Sir R. Palmer wrote, ' I
hear but one sentiment concerning the sermon itself.' ' Roundell Palmer's
letter is very kind,' Dr. Pusey wrote to Newman from Dover, ' for people do
feel very kindly towards me, although I am nothing; the cause, everything.'

220 VISIT TO DOVER.
best. ... I hope, early next week, to remove somewhere to my
dear children.
I am very glad to hear you are getting off at last (Newman
wrote, July 31) ; we thought you had gone some little time ago.
The sea always does you so much good. . . . The lawyers in
London are (I am told) very strong in recommending you to go
into the Queen's Bench.
From Grosvenor Square Dr. Pusey replied (August 1),
that he was 'certainly recovering strength. . . . To
morrow concludes three months of illness ; ' and from
Dover (8, Marine Parade) he wrote of the sea air doing
him much good, but with much depression of ' our con
troversies,' and the lack of 'ecclesiastical discipline.'
' It makes and finds one heavy-minded ; the chil
dren are come to the birth; "is there strength to bring
forth?"'1 ' These things are heavy,' he wrote again, on hearing
from Newman of Mr. Lockhart leaving the English
communion, 'because one sympathizes with those who
cause the sorrow, and our Church has not yet the strength
to hold such. It is very dejecting, year after year, but
it must have its end in humbling and purifying our
Church.' He informed Mr. Keble (August 18) that he had
quite made up his mind that he ought to try to have
the sentence reversed, ' and I the more hope this is
right,' he added, 'because I had rather have remained
quiet.' But, more suo, Dr. Pusey had kept no copies of his
letters to the Vice-Chancellor, and had not been permitted
1 Words which Dr. Newman made his own in his last sermon at Littlemore.

1843.] CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. WYNTER. 221
to copy the statements sent for his signature. He there
fore wrote, after two months of correspondence with friends
and lawyers on the subject : —
Christ Church, September 22, 1843.
Mr. Vice-Chancellor, — In consequence, partly of illness
and of the immediate urgency of the occasion on which I wrote
to you last time, partly because it did not occur to me that I
should ever wish to recall to mind what then passed, I took no
copies of any of my notes to you ; of the paper which I sent in, I
was recommended by Dr. Jelf to take no copy. I now wish to be
able to see what I did write to you, of which in some respects I
have only an indistinct recollection. If, then, you have preserved
the notes or paper which I sent to you, or that which Dr. Jelf
took down from my mouth, I should be much obliged to you to
let me have them again. I would return them in the course of
the day. I remain, Your humble servant,
E. B. Pusey.
The Vice-Chancellor to E. B. P.
St. John's College, September 22, 1843.
The Vice-Chancellor presents his compliments to
Dr. Pusey. He regrets that circumstances preclude a compliance
with his request.
E. B. P. to the Vice-Chancellor.
Christ Church, September 22, 1843.
Mr. Vice-Chancellor, — I am sorry to trouble you again,
but, as your note is general, it may be that you have not the
same objection to let me see my own notes to you as you may
have to let me see the paper which I wrote in answer to the
propositions which you sent me to sign. If this be so, I should

222 FRIENDLY SUIT PROPOSED.
be much obliged to you to let me see the notes which I wrote
to you, if you have preserved them.
I remain, Mr. Vice-Chancellor,
Your humble servant,
E. B. Pusey.

The Vice-Chancellor to E. B. P.
St. John's College, September 23, 1843.
The Vice-Chancellor presents his compliments to
Dr. Pusey, and in reply to his note of last night has only to repeat
his regret that, under present circumstances, he cannot comply
with Dr. Pusey's request.
The case could not therefore be fully drawn up for
counsel ; as it was, it was laid before the Queen's Advocate,
the Attorney-General and the Solicitor-General. The
two first were of opinion that the Vice-Chancellor's sen
tence was a nullity in law ; the Solicitor-General doubted
whether the courts of law, if applied to, would interfere in
the case.
What think you? (he asks Newman later). My only feeling
is as to the effect on people's minds, one way or another. Harm
is being done to people, who have looked upon the six Doctors
as an organ of the Church. My feeling is a sense of duty to
repair, anyhow I may, what has been permitted on occasion
of me. It was then proposed that Mr. Woodgate, Fellow of
St. John's, should institute a friendly ecclesiastical suit
against Dr. Pusey, to test his theological soundness ; and
Dr. Pusey wrote to the Bishop of Oxford, beseeching
him not to refuse the Commission (under the Church

1843-1 THE BISHOP'S REFUSAL. 223
Discipline Act) applied for, nor to refuse him the means
of having a fair trial.
I am looked upon as one condemned (he wrote), nor would
this cease by the mere expiration of my sentence. The cessation
of the sentence is no acquittal. I am crippled in everything I do.
Except with my friends, who think too kindly of me, I am an
object of suspicion everywhere.
The Bishop consulted the Archbishop of Canterbury,
who observed that Bishop Bagot could not let the case go
forward without implicitly passing an unfavourable judg
ment on the sermon, and this, together with other con
siderations, determined the Bishop to refuse Dr. Pusey's
request. I did not expect this kind of answer to your application
(Newman wrote, November 7, on seeing the Bishop's letter),
though I can quite understand it when made ; and though I have
had, and have, a very strong feeling that it is not intended that
you should gain justice (the Bishop's way of putting it), or
rather that the English Church should be set right on this point ;
this is no reason for not doing everything one can.
Another note from Newman ends : —
... I am sure I can't tell, but I should have thought the
Bishop's state of mind was ' I won't be committed to anything —
keep away from me.'
To Dr. Pusey no appeal was left save to time. If the
result has been a full and triumphant acquittal — if his
righteousness has been made clear as the day, and his just
dealing as the noonday; if there are few churches in
England now where his sermon could not be preached

224 VERDICT OF TIME.
without offence — the present circumstances were to him
but the beginning of sorrows, to which, he bitterly felt, the
animosity displayed in the University to the doctrine of
the Holy Eucharist largely contributed, strengthened as
it was by the Bishop's disapproval, to say the least, of the
condemned sermon.

CHAPTER XII.
PARTINGS.
1843, 1844.
As martyrs' eyes more and more near discern
Where, on the Father's right hand beaming,
Light upon light in glory streaming,
The Saviour, felt, not seen, in life,
Deigns to be seen in that last strife ;
And Angels hail, approaching to the shore,
Rays like their own, and more.
Lyra Innocentium.
At Dover, where we spent August and part of September
(Mrs. Brine writes), we were very intimate with the family of an Irish
clergyman, Mr. Glover, who had the care of Charlton Church,
then quite in the country, and we used to drive out every morning
with him, on his Irish car, to early service at his church.1 I
remember my father stopping one day at the gate of the church,
asking one of the children her name, and explaining to her that
Dorothea meant the ' gift of God.' On his birthday we posted
up to Canterbury, and went to Cathedral service with him as his
birthday treat, and then to tea at a Mr. and Mrs. Starrs', who lived
in the precincts.
The tidings of Newman's decision to resign the
vicarage of St. Mary's, Oxford, reached him while at
Dover. 1 One of Mr. Glover's sons, Sir John Glover, was, later, Governor of
Newfoundland, where he died during his appointment.

226 NEWMAN'S RESIGNATION OF ST. MARY'S.
I am much grieved but not surprised (Mr. Keble wrote, St.
Matthew's Day) at N.'s having given up St. Mary's. I should
like to know what you think of it. He is most extremely worried
by those successive conversions to Rome. Your matters, I trust,
are in train, although the last letter I had from R. Palmer seemed
to say that they were almost at a stand for want of your corre
spondence with the Doctors.
N.'s. giving up St. Mary's is a great blow (Dr. Pusey replied,
September 23, 1843). I sald what I could against it in Lent,
but he then told me a private reason, which, he said, he had
named to you — that young men who looked in a given direction
misunderstood him, and interpreted in their own sense what
ever he said, so that he was in fact leading them whither he
wished not. ... It seems as if heavy times were coming, and
that we were but at the beginning of sorrows. Moreover, we
do see our signs ; so heavy nights are but to usher in a joyous
morning. He still, strange to say, preserved hope that Newman
would not leave us. Even now, when both have 'gone
into a world of light,' it is painful to read through the
letters (notes mostly) written by the latter at this time,
from the growing pain and difficulty in expressing himself
which they reveal, and which even the very handwriting,
more and more minute, seems to denote, as though he
would fain whisper what he could not bear to say aloud —
short words, sentences almost curt, though never without
the distinctive grace belonging to all which came from his
pen, postscripts packed into the smallest space, expressing
more than the note itself, and leaving much to be read
between the lines.
He has told us himself of the great difficulty he had in
making Dr. Pusey understand such differences of opinion

1843.] NEWMAN'S LAST SERMON. 227
as existed between them, and that this divergence began
in 1838. And as time went on (he adds) he would not take any hints
which I gave him on the subject of my growing inclination to
Rome. When I found him so determined, I often had not the
heart to go on. . . . He could not bring himself to believe that
he and I should not go on pleasantly to the end. But that
affectionate dream must needs have been broken at last.1
Father Neville, Cardinal Newman's executor, has kindly
sent the following memorandum, copied by him ' from a
scribble in pencil almost illegible.'
I formally told Pusey that I expected to leave the Church of
England in the autumn of 1843, and begged him to tell others,
that no one might be taken by surprise, or trust me in the interval.
I said the same to Henry Wilberforce. In the above letter, when
I say ' we shall have strength,' 2 it is said in order not to seem to
sever myself from Pusey. J. H. N.
Towards the end of 1843 he wrote to Dr. Pusey : —
I fear you are sadly harassed about Oxford matters. Me, of
course, they do not harass — my harass is in a different quarter.
It did not surprise me that Badeley wrote as he did. Since
you have done every thing you could, you surely may dismiss the
subject from your mind, knowing that He [Who] so has ordered
things has thereby taken the matter into His own Hand.
It was on September 25, 1843, that Dr. Pusey was
present at that meeting of friends, whose paths were soon
to separate, on the seventh anniversary of the consecration
of Littlemore Chapel, when, for the last time, the voice of
Newman was heard in an Anglican pulpit, his sermon
1 Apologia, pp. 223, 224 (ed. 1873).
* See p. 250, where these words occur in a note from Newman to E. B. P.

228 LAST CELEBRATION.
ending with the pathetic and heart-broken words in which
he spoke the anguish with which he felt himself rejected
by the Church of his baptism, by her in whose service all
the gifts of his great genius, love, and devotion, had hitherto
been spent. No need here to describe the scene, or to
quote those last words — the cry as of a heart disowned by
a mother ; they have been too often told. To his brother
William, Dr. Pusey wrote the same evening : —
Christ Church, September 25, 1843.
I am just returned, half broken-hearted, from the com
memoration at Littlemore. The sermon was like one of Newman's,
in which self was altogether repressed, yet it showed the more how
deeply he felt all the misconception of himself. It implied, rather
than said, Farewell. People sobbed audibly, and I, who officiated
at the altar, could hardly help mingling sorrow with even that
Feast. However, 'the peace of God, which passeth all under
standing,' closed all. If our Bishops did but know what faithful
hearts, devoted to the service of our Lord in this His Church,
they are breaking : yet, ' at eventide there will be light.'
Be not downcast at what I have written. There must be
heavy night before the joyous morning ; first evening, then morn'
ing. God bring us all to that morning.
Nor did he give up hope still to keep Newman, who,
having resigned St. Mary's on September 18, celebrated
there for the last time on October 15, the eighteenth
Sunday after Trinity.
I did hope to be at the H. C. to-morrow (Dr. Pusey wrote to
him on October 14), and when you mentioned to me that L. would
be absent, it occurred to me that as, in happier days, humanly
speaking, at the beginning of the weekly Communion at St. Mary's,
I assisted you, so I might, if so it be, be joined with you at the
close of your office there, and we might end together.

1843.] ADAPTED BOOKS. 229
Before October was ended the Rev. C. Seager, Dr.
Pusey's assistant Hebrew lecturer for four years, had joined
the Roman Communion — a loss the more felt by Dr.
Pusey, since he knew well how much it would add to his
difficulties and all the odium it would bring on his own
teaching. He turned the more towards efforts to help others by
adapting foreign books of devotion to the needs of English
Church-people, his increasing guidance of individuals
causing him to know that 'people feel that they lack
instruction ' in all that a deeper teaching had awakened in
souls — ' a craving after a higher life ; stricter and more
abiding penitence ; mental prayer ; more habitual recol
lection in Him amid the duties of daily life ; oneness of
will with Him in all things. They see dimly what God
would have of them ; they see not how to set about it' x
He also contemplated publishing a translation of the
Breviary, a design which had been entertained but given
up, three years previously, 'at N.'s, or rather Mr. Keble's
desire,' Mr. Oakeley wrote (November 20, 1843) to Dr.
Pusey, adding that the whole was actually in manuscript,
except the hymns, which he had undertaken to translate.
'Nothing,' he adds, 'retards this work but want of
money.' 2
In his own unshaken faith — scarcely recognizing diffi
culties to other minds — it does not seem to have occurred
to Dr. Pusey that the publication of the Breviary, and of
adapted Roman books, would have any effect but such as
1 See Preface to Avillon's Guide for Passing Lent Holily, the first book
* adapted ' by Dr. Pusey.
2 Much of it had been done by Hon. Samuel Wood of Oriel, uncle of the
present Viscount Halifax.

230 NEWMAN ON THE BREVIARY.
he wished — to stimulate, and provide food for devotion.
Newman saw more clearly, and did not wish his friend to
act with his eyes shut, though he had himself ceased to
believe that effects which he foresaw would be evil. He
wrote on December 2, 1843 : —
I am quite of opinion that any Breviary, however corrected,
etc., will tend to prepare minds for the Church of Rome. I fully
think that you will be doing so by your publication. Considering
the strong feeling you are going to express, I ought not to fail to
state this impression of mine. I do not think our system will
bear it. It is like sewing a new piece of cloth on an old garment.
Did I wish to promote the cause of the Church of Rome
I should say, Do what you propose to do.
I have before now been of another opinion. If it seems
wonderful to you that I should change right round without show
ing distress at the intention expressed from time to time of editing
Breviaries, I fear I must account for it in a way which will pain
you — that my dislike of approximating Rome has diminished with
my hope of avoiding her. Now, as before, / am not unwilling
that Breviaries should be published — though for different reasons ;
but, as I have tried, while I had a charge in our Church, to do
nothing against her, so now, when you are going to commit
yourself to an  x sentiment, you should hear my opinion
on the subject.
Mr. Keble was of a different opinion, probably know
ing less of the ' advanced ' men's minds than Newman ;
though he suggested that the publication might not be
very agreeable to the Bishops, who had spoken against
editing Roman books of devotion.
Hursley Vicarage, January 15, 1844.
. . . The great question with me in these matters is,
What has the Church really ordered and sanctioned ? If I were
1 A word here is illegible.

1844-1 KEBLE ON THE BREVIARY. 23 1
satisfied that the Church Catholic really decreed all that the
Breviary (e.g.) says of St. Mary, I fancy I see how a ' commoda
interpretatio ' might be made of it, consistent with other truths and
duties. As it is, I shrink back, and dare not reason much on the
point, nor take the devotional words which imply it in my mouth.
My wish is, especially in my state of ignorance, to keep up a kind
of neutrality as to the points in which we differ from Rome, and
I very much wished that the British Critic might have been kept
up on that principle : by adhering to which and trying to live as
holily as possible, I suppose an ordinary person may hope to be
guided aright in our present most unhappy state.
In consequence of your report of Manning's view (he writes,
February 22, 1844), I have asked two or three of those whom
I suppose to be most dutiful to our Church, what they should
think, in the abstract, of a reformed Breviary — my sister and
my brother, for instance, and Judge Coleridge ; and their answers
are encouraging. ... On the whole, I feel as if it were more
dutiful to our Church to go on. Really, it would be quite
scandalous for a reformed Breviary to be supposed inconsistent
with her tone.
He consults Dr. Pusey as to whether there would be
any objection to his (Mr. Keble's) name appearing in the
list of subscribers to a translation of St. Bernard's, not
having himself any scruples, and ends with characteristic
words : ' Only, perhaps, people take one's name in a list to
mean more than it does ; and I am sure if it means that
I know anything of the matter, it ought not to be there.'
E. B. P. to Rev. J. Keble.
Fer. iii. inf. Hebd. i. Quadr. [Feb. 27], 1844.
. . . My own feelings about St. Bernard are that I can
not myself be instrumental any way in bringing the system as to
St. Mary in an inviting form before people. The publication of

232 LETTER FROM NEWMAN.
the letters is avowedly a stepping-stone, and success in this would
facilitate the end. ... I hear that the younger Christie of Oriel
is going to bring out the Paradisus Animce (of which a great deal
is very beautiful and valuable, but) without suppressing anything.
. . . Ward is said to have a strong attack upon our Church in
the press. So it seems in this miserable confusion one's self is
giving pain to some ; others to one's self and our poor Church.
Rev. J. Keble to E. B. P.
. . . Your note this morning makes me fear that you have
heard something or other which distresses you ; but such things
must of course be, in so fallen a condition as we are. As you say,
we can but work on in the dark ; but I wish your work may not
have prospered the less for the great unworthiness of some of
your coadjutors, little dreamed of by you ; not that I speak of
more than one, but even in spite of this I say to that person, as to
you, Let us work on as we may in the dark.
Again Newman wrote, trying to speak plainly : —
Littlemore, December 18, 1843.
My dear Pusey, — I have been intending to answer your
most kind and affectionate note ever since it came, and now I
am driven up into a corner for time. I must seem very cold and
reserved to you — the truth is, I have not had courage to tell you
all I think. This has lasted a very long time, for years. Indeed,
one has no right to scatter about one's own notions, when they
are recent, lest they should be but accidental and random. But
some time or other I must tell you. And perhaps I must choose
some serious season, as I do for telling you as much as this.
Whether the publication of a Breviary is to lead our Church
towards Rome, or individuals in it (which is your question), can
only be decided by experiment. It is like attempting to bend a
stick; if it does not bend, it will break. If you do not move
the whole Church, to a certainty you are moving individuals;
there is no medium. ... As to the Fathers . . . I do now

1844.I LUCY PUSEYS ILLNESS. 233
think, far more than I did, that their study leads to Rome. It
has thus wrought in me. . . .
You are not paining me by writing to me, and I grieve not to
answer you, but I am sorely perplexed whether I have any right
to distress you, and that is the beginning and the end of it. And
now, my dearest Pusey, do not think I doubt for a moment that,
whatever you do, done as you will do it, will turn to good ;
only you seemed to pledge yourself to be choosing the good, and
to involve yourself in consequences, and that frightened me.
Ever yours most affectionately, compared with whom
I am nothing, J. H. N.
Dr. Newman's relations to Dr. Pusey are dwelt on at
some length in this short memoir, because nothing touched
the latter so deeply at this time, or more concerned the
history of his soul. When, on February 19, 1844, Newman
wrote plainly to him of his growing conviction, for four
years and a half, ' that we are not part of the Catholic
Church,' Dr. Pusey said in his reply, on February 23, ' I
wonder that I can ever laugh again. But,' he adds in the
same note, ' I have such conviction that you are under
God's guidance that I look on cheerfully still ; that all will
be right, I mean, for our poor Church and you. ... Of
late, I have wished to know nothing, lest my very knowing
it should be hurtful. I have the same confidence in you
as ever.' Nearly five years had passed since his wife's death, and
now he was called on, in the midst of sorrowful anxiety
concerning his closest friend, to resign the creature dearest
to him on earth, and round whom bright hopes had gathered
for a life of exceptional usefulness to the Church, and the
carrying out of his most cherished scheme.

234 LETTER TO NEWMAN.
During the Lent of 1844, Lucy Pusey, at fourteen, was
dying of rapid consumption, though her father was not
seriously alarmed until, on April 3, the eve of Palm
Sunday, he went to Clifton. ' He used to live, when visiting
his little daughters,' Mrs. Brine writes, ' in the house next to
Miss Rogers' (in the Crescent), where they were at school.'
One line (he wrote to Mr. Keble from Clifton, Thursday in
Holy Week, April 4), to say your prayers are much needed by me
for my eldest daughter, who is on the verge of consumption,
following whooping cough ; yet it is not yet, and by God's mercy
may not be. There is room for hope and prayers. I had hoped
that she would be something for our Church.
To Newman he wrote the next day : —
My very dear N., — God bless you for all your tender
affection. Your dear note was a great comfort to my L. and
myself. It is such a beautiful picture that one is almost ashamed
to wish it otherwise, still, when any hope is held out one clings to
it, and Dr. Wootton, who has kindly been here, says that it is not
impossible, though very improbable, that she should be restored
to us. For myself, if I know myself, I would willingly part with
her, and take any pain as part of what I deserve ; but if it might
be His will, I do cling to the thought of her rendering service to
Him here. Ever your very grateful and affectionate, E. B. Pusey.
Friday in Easter week. Clifton, Easter Tuesday [April 9], 1844.
My dearest Friend, — All is peace here, with certain prospect
how it will end, though not how soon. It was hurrying on with
a terrific rapidity when I wrote, though I knew it not ; on Easter
Eve came a solemn pause, and in this I suppose we are still.
She said to me last night, ' Now I am so near death, it seems tha

1844.I LETTER TO MR. KEBLE. 235
my love of God is not what it should be ; ' so we are now praying
for it, and this pause seems to be given us to obtain some deeper
measure of it before she parts. . . . She is a child of your
writings ; in looking over her books, I find the date of a volume
of your sermons, on her birthday, nearly eight years ago, and I
asked you for them, as her dear mother had been some time
forming her mind in them. . . .
I should stay on here, unless there were appearances that she
would be continued here through the term, and then I thought of
coming up to give my four lectures on two following days, spending
the rest of the week here.
You will be kindly glad to hear that as yet she does not suffer,
and her beautifully calm face is something joyous to look on.
I asked her whether she had any message for you. She said,
' Give him my respectful love, and thank him for all his kindness
to me.' God reward you, my dear friend. This is now the second of
mine at whose parting I have felt what a blessing your sermons
and your love have been to them.
Ever your very affectionate friend,
E. B. Pusey.
The earthly end came in less than a fortnight. Her
father wrote to Mr. Keble : —
Tuesday after 2nd Sunday after Easter [April 23, 1844].
My dear Keble, — It seems very ungrateful that this is the
second night, and I have not yet told you that my blessed child
no longer needs your prayers, for she was in Paradise yesterday.
I so speak, because after a struggle of intense severity, . . . there
shone such an unearthly light from her eyes, just before death ;
and over her mouth, which had been drawn by pain across the
teeth, there spread gradually such an unearthly smile of joy and
Divine love and triumph — while the eyes, which had been half
closed for hours, gazed stedfastly and longingly at something we
did not see — that I can have no doubt that she was allowed to

236 LETTER FROM NEWMAN.
catch a reflection of that light upon which, by God's mercy, she
has entered. The eyes retained, even after death, a sparkling
brilliancy they never had in life. I never saw anything on this
earth like it, and can have no doubt it was something Divine, as a
reward for her pure life of obedience and love. ... I am quite
well, only feeling (would that I felt more) that the sins for which
I required chastisement have taken thus early from our Church
one who, by God's mercy, might have been a great blessing to
her, though she herself has been early perfected. Pray for me
that this feeling be deepened.
Your very affectionate and grateful friend,
E. B. Pusey.
Rev. J. H. Newman to E. B. P.
Littlemore, April 24, 1844.
How can I thank you enough for your letter and its
sacred contents ? Rather, how can we all duly thank Him whose
mercies have enabled you to write it ? You do not want comfort,
so, on all accounts, but few words are becoming from such as me.
I now but fear that you will find yourself overcome in body and
mind afterwards, when the present exertion is over.
I have ordered a plated cross eighteen inches long, and foliated
(I think they call it), which is the sign of triumph, by Bloxam.
. . . The 22 nd of April is memorable to me already on many
accounts — two are these. It is the anniversary of Wood's
departure last year, and of our commencing here the year before.
Ever yours most affectionately,
J. H. N.
Dr. Pusey wrote to ask Newman to be present at Lucy's
funeral, and he replied (April 26) : —
Most thankfully do I use your permission, and will come to
your house at eleven on Saturday unless I hear to the contrary.
. . . You make me so very much ashamed by your great kindness.
What dearest Lucy has begun let Mary finish in a different
colour.

1844.] BURIAL IN CHRIST CHURCH CATHEDRAL. 237
On Saturday, April 27, she was laid in her mother's
grave in Christ Church Cathedral. On that very day the
second of two important meetings of eminent men, chiefly
laymen, was held to consider measures for forwarding the
establishment of Anglican Sisterhoods. It was attended
by Lord Lyttelton, Lord Clive, Lord Camden, Lord John
Manners, Mr. Dickinson, Mr. Watts Russell, Mr. Acland,
Rev. D. Dodsworth, and Dr. Hook. Mr. Gladstone was
absent, but wrote ' in warm sympathy with the object of
the meeting.' Lord John Manners wrote to Dr. Pusey the
same day to tell him that the meeting ' had resolved to
take preliminary steps for the establishment and permanent
maintenance of a Sisterhood living under a religious rule
and engaged in some work of mercy.'

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XII.
[The following letter was shown first to the writer by the late
Rev. W. Upton Richards, whom Philip Pusey had allowed to
have a copy of it. It is given here, after some hesitation, as
expressing Dr. Pusey's most sacred feelings at a time when they
were deeply stirred.]

My dear Philip, — I was very sorry to write so very hunied
a note to you yesterday. ... I hope you were not painfully
startled, but I had actually not a minute more to save the post.
The close of your dear sister's earthly life was a very remark
able one, as her life had been. Some time ago she asked me
whether I thought it wrong that she should have the wish to be a
martyr ; for the wish came into her mind. ' I said ' No ! ' but that
if she formed the wish she must expect severe sufferings (for it
would be trifling to wish for that which implied extreme suffering,
and not be prepared for something of the sort). Her precious
death began on Friday night ; she then said to her kind friend,
Miss R., ' Is this the last ? ' On being asked ' why ? ' she said,
' I wish it was.' It was then thought she would hardly get through
the Saturday. I administered the Holy Communion to her, but
her dear head was so oppressed through the want of circulation,
that I was obliged to rouse her to those parts of the service when
it was most needed.
After this she revived to a certain degree, but on Saturday
night the struggle for breath began again, and we did not expect
that she would live until the morning. However, she was brought
through, but still more oppressed and exhausted through the

LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY. 239
fatigue, so that she was but half conscious. I felt sure, however,
that it would be a blessing to her to receive the Holy Communion
again, so I proposed it to her, and she was much pleased. But
she sunk into such a state of half consciousness that, although she
had listened to the sentences, ' Come unto Me, all ye,' etc., atten
tively, when I came to give her the Bread, she did not know what
I was doing (I was obliged to give it her in a spoon, moistened
with the Wine, because she had such difficulty in swallowing ; she
had swallowed nothing solid for some days). She said, ' What is
this ? ' When I answered, ' The Body of Christ,' she collected
herself at once, and she then received the Cup with such eagerness
and devotion, that I could not but drop on my knees in joy and
thankfulness for this mercy, for I had been troubled whether she
could receive or retain it. (She was always very devout as to the
Holy Communion ; I was much struck at her first Communion,
when she was not quite twelve, on Trinity Sunday, 1841, to see
her simple, deep awe at herself, and what she had become by
receiving Christ.) After this she became more herself, which I
could not but think was the fruit of receiving the Holy Com
munion ; she had been so near death in the morning, and breathed
with so little of her poor lungs, that the physician did not think
she could last until five in the afternoon. She could speak very
little, but she took interest in some things said to her, and in the
drawing of a Cup which she was to give to Holy Cross Church,
with some money Uncle Philip had given her when a very little
child. It is to have some jewels on it in memory of the Wounds
of our Lord, and a Cross with jewels, and the Crucifixion engraved,
and an inscription which she chose a few days before, Calicem
salutaris accipiam, Alleluia (I will receive the cup of salvation,
Alleluia) ; she had chosen another for the Paten, Panem angelorum
manducavit homo, Alleluia. She had some difficulty in choosing,
being very weak, but said, ' At all events, one with Alleluia.' She
took great pleasure in the precious stones in the Cross, and in
pointing with her poor, weak finger to the five precious stones.
Altogether, this was a very bright afternoon.
But towards evening came on increased difficulty of breathing,
and what was the struggle of death ; and as I did not know the

240 LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY.
mercy which was to follow, it was very heavy. She was much
oppressed by it. All her mind seemed concentrated in bearing the
toil of breathing. Her dear features were quite fixed ; they never
relaxed, never varied ; they were quite calm, but drawn and very
intent. I did not know what was going on in her mind, for she
could hardly speak, and she took no notice of what I said, except
that she just opened her half-closed eyes when I began some new
text or short prayer. I was very much perplexed what to do, whether
I was doing more than she could bear, or disturbing her, but it had
been ordered very mercifully that, a few days before, I had found
from her that she could meditate some little while, though not
long, upon a text. So I went on as well as I could. Seeing her
sufferings protracted so much beyond what was expected, it
occurred to me that this was a sort of fulfilment of her wish, and I
reminded her of it, and she seemed to acquiesce in it as feeling it
to be so. I mean she had wished for a suffering death for God's
glory, and He gave her one to exercise her patience, and thereby
to glorify Him. She said nothing very distinctly, but after this
there was a deeper calm visible. She was much comforted, too,
by my saying that Christ said, ' He suffered in us, as He had
suffered for us,' for He says, ' He hungers, thirsts, is persecuted in
His members,' and reminded her that the Blessed Martyrs so
endured their suffering, in that Christ suffered in them. This was
a great mercy, but she still laboured on, though decidedly with a
deeper calm.
All this while I should have been glad to pray that her suffer
ings should end, but I was withheld from doing so ; I could only
pray in Bishop Andrewes' words, to which she was accustomed,
' When Thou wilt, and as Thou wilt,' and that she might have
strength to bear it. I had hoped (as was expected) that they
would have been over by twelve o'clock, that her departure
might be on one of the Sundays in Easter. However, they
went on, and she seemed to know that. the end was not to be
yet, for she asked twice at least what o'clock it was ; and the first
time she was disappointed, and said, ' Not later.' A little time
before the close, too, she said in a solemn voice, ' One more,' and
I knew not what she meant, and thought she might be wandering,

LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY. 24 1
but I have no doubt now that she meant, 'one more struggle
only.' It then occurred to me to say to her, ' Dear Lucy, our
perfection is to know no will but God's ; it may be that He is
only waiting that you should give up yourself entirely into His
hands, to know no will but His, that He should continue or shorten
your sufferings as He wills, and that then He will call you.' She
made no answer, for she had then lost almost all speech, but there
came a deeper calm. . . . She had, too, been much comforted
when, seeing her much distressed during some prayers which we
were saying for her, I said to her, ' Dear Lucy, the beginning of
your Christian life was the invocation of the Names of the Blessed
Trinity upon you in your baptism ; and now at the close of it I
will again, as God's minister, pronounce upon you, if you like it,
the Blessing in Their Names in God's own words.' She assented,
and so, laying my hands on her head, I said the Benediction in
the Service for the Sick, ' Unto God's gracious mercy,' etc., the
latter part of which is from Numbers vi. This again was a great
comfort to her. It was beautiful to see the solemn change of
countenance, and the reverence with which she received this
blessing, and its effect.
But the crowning blessing was still to come. She had been
often close to death, apparently. Her dear eyes had turned up
under her eyelids, as they do often in dying persons, so that one
only saw the white left, and the sobs had become fainter, and I
had been expecting the last gasp, when the cough returned and
brought her to life. This happened several times, and my heart
sunk within me as I thought within myself, ' Then she has to go
through all this again;' however, I trusted in God, as I com
mended her to Him. At last, all at once, her dear eyes, which
had been half closed for hours, opened quite wide, and gazed with
an earnest, longing look at something we did not see. I saw that
they saw me, but they saw something besides me; and they
expanded and became full, larger and fuller than they ever were
in health (and they had been flattened, and sunk, and glazed by
illness more and more, since I had been here), and the pupil
enlarged, so as to seem half the size of the iris, and they looked
intently and earnestly at something; and then she turned them

242 LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY.
full to me, though, as I said, evidently seeing something besides
me, and there was in them an unearthly lustre, and then there
came over the mouth, which had been only sobbing (the whole
features having been lengthened), such a smile of joy and Divine
love and triumph, that I never saw anything approaching to it
on the earth. It was all wholly Heavenly. It spread gradually
over her dear lips, . . . masking the expression of pain and
absorbing it in Divine love ; it would have been a laugh of joy
almost, only there was no sound, for her breath was heaving with
difficulty, and the look seemed to say to me, ' Dear papa, all you
have longed for for me is fulfilled.' I almost laughed for joy in
return, the joy at that Divinely blessed countenance so thrilled
through me ! This lasted for a little while, and this was our
blessed leavetaking. There were yet some calm struggles more,
while eyes and countenance were all harmoniously turned towards
heaven. One knew not which would be the last sigh, they came
at longer intervals; at last there was no more, and one knew
she was in Paradise, and we knelt down and said the Thanks
giving in the Burial Service, with our whole hearts.
For some time after her departure that unearthly lustre of her
eyes still remained. Dear Mary came in at least ten minutes after
wards, and she told me in the evening, ' I never, in her life, saw
her eyes look so bright.' It is a very solemn thing which I am
going to say, but it was so wholly unlike anything of this earth,
or in herself, and something so Divine, that I cannot describe it
in words, though I have no doubt that she saw into the unseen
world — perhaps our Blessed Lord Himself, Whose coming we had
so often prayed for, and that her countenance caught the light to
which she was approaching, whether of His Divine Countenance
Whom she loved, as Moses' ' face shone,' and Stephen's became
' like that of an angel,' or from the light in which He dwells. Of
this I feel quite certain, that it was something Divine, and a special
vouchsafement to her.
Some time before this she clasped her hands round my neck,
and pressed me to her breast, with a strength which I could not
conceive she possessed, and held me there. I disengaged myself
after a time, because Miss R. told me, on my asking, that she

LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY. 243
thought she was just dying, and I thought it selfish to keep all her
thoughts to me ; and I could not, while remaining thus, minister
to her as God's priest. But it was such a dear embrace ; she said,
' Oh, dear papa ! dear papa ! ' with such energy, and I felt myself
to be near something very holy. Again, I cannot describe why
I thought so. It was no act of reasoning ; but the Holy Ghost
manifests His presence wonderfully in His temples, as when the
dead bones of Elisha brought the dead man to life — but so it was.
I could not then weep when all was over. I do not mean that
I have not wept since ; her loss is a great void to us, and more
especially to me. I feel what one so holy when so young might
have been to our Church, had God continued her here ; and this
is my one sore feeling, that in chastisement to me she is taken.
But then I could not weep, and could only say, as she herself said
some days before, ' I cannot cry ; ' I could almost laugh for joy at
God's mercy to her. I can but think of her in the immediate
Presence of our Lord, shone upon by His Blessed Presence, and
feeding on Him Who is ' Food of Angels.' I could not but think,
as we said the Lord's Prayer several times that night, in the
petition, ' Give us this day our daily bread,' that dear Lucy could
on that day feed on Him, the Living Bread, face to face.
And now, my dear Philip, this is very solemn to us, in propor
tion to the greatness both of our loss, after the manner of man,
and the solemn vouchsafement to one so very near us. God does
manifest Himself from time to time on death-beds, but this was a
very solemn form of it. It was a very unusual degree of it, as
also this whole illness had something very remarkable, for on our
return from Brighton every one noticed how well she was looking,
how she was grown, how strong she looked ; she was thought at
one time to have got over the complaint, and the first intimation
of danger was but just three weeks ago. Her illness was very
rapid ; there seemed to be but one pause, for which she longed,
that she might love God more.
I forget whether I told you that soon after I had told her of
her danger she said that she had something to say to me, that
' now I am so near death, it seems to me that I do not love God
as I ought.' So we settled that we should pray for it continually,

244 LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY.
and some of my friends prayed for it, and we used daily the collect
for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity, and some others. I asked her
a few days after this whether she thought she had more love of
God ; she said humbly, and yet with a degree of confidence, ' I
hope so.' I then said, ' Can you go along with all the expressions
of love of God which I read to you ? ' (some of which were of a
high sort), and she said, ' Oh yes ! ' with a sort of feeling that it
would be very sad if she did not. It is also very remarkable that
in that long struggle with death her dear features quite laid aside
everything of the child ; it seemed as if in a short space she was
living a long life, gathering the struggle of years into a few nights,
overcoming manifoldly, and changed from yet a child into a
mature Christian. . . .
There is yet one other thing I would now tell you of her. In
the year in which you had the whooping-cough I was walking
with dear Lucy, and I talked to her of the happiness of belonging
to Christ alone, living to Him, only to pray to and praise Him,
ane* minister to His poor and sick. She felt this, and purposed to
adopt it as her life. This was the meaning of her visiting the
convents in Ireland with me. I wished her to see this mode of
life, praying with her before she visited them that she might only
gain good from them, and no harm from anything erroneous
among them. She was present at one of the ceremonies in which
they are admitted to be candidates (novices), and in which they
lay aside all their rich attire, and their beautiful hair, if they have
any, and take the simple black dress with white round the head.
The lady at the head of the establishment asked dear Lucy which
dress she liked best — there was one especially rich. She mistook
dear Lucy's answer at first, but on my asking, dear Lucy said,
' The black.' The nun was evidently much impressed by such a
choice in a child just twelve years old. From that time, to fit
herself for some duties of this sort has been the great incentive
and interest in everything she did which was connected with it ; it
was her great subject of interest. And now Christ has accepted
her, though not in our way. She longed to live for Him ; she is
living with Him.
This is a very earnest thing to us ; humanly it is a deep loss

LETTER TO PHILIP E. PUSEY. 245
to us. I cannot tell you how her simplicity and devotion and
love wound round my heart, and how I loved her, or longed that
she should be, and join with others in being, what she longed to
be. To you and dear Mary she is a loss in other ways. And
now she whom we so loved, who was so near to us, bone of our
bone, and flesh of our flesh, the same blood with you and my very
self, though born anew, not of men, but of water and the Spirit,
has been highly honoured, and is now in the very Presence of her
Redeemer ; praying with all the blessed departed for us, and for
what she loved on earth. What says it to us ? What says
Scripture ? ' Whose faith follow, beholding the end of their conver
sation, Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.'
He was the object of her affection and reverence ; Him she loved ;
with Him she desired to be united ; His alone she wished to be ;
to Him she prayed continually, ' Let my soul ever compass Thee,
seek Thee, find Thee, stretch toward Thee, arrive at Thee.' So
Him she has found ; at Him she has arrived ; with Him she is.
Let us, then, my dear Philip, look into ourselves in these days
of earthly sorrow, and pray Him ' look well if there be any way of
wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.' Let us
gird up ourselves to serve Him more earnestly, strike yet more
into the narrow way, and seek more to please Him and not
ourselves, and love Him and Him only. God bless you, my dear
Philip, and guide you and help you. This is of more moment
than any comfort, for sorrow is healing to the soul ; so may our
loss for the moment turn to our endless good.
Ever your affectionate father,
E. B. Pusey.
Clifton, April 23, 1843.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE PROCTORS' VETO.
1844.
People seem to have forgotten Nil desperandum, Christo duce, and
auspice Christo. — Letter from E. B. P.
THE Long Vacation of 1844 was spent at Ilfracombe.
We had two very happy months there (Mrs. Brine writes),
walking every day with my father to the early service, and taking
strolls round the Capstone Hill with him, and watching his delight
in the sea far spread out before us ; it was life to my father. He
used to see a great deal of Mr. Chanter, and preached two sermons
for the Church and the Parochial Schools.
There are numbers of letters to Dr. Pusey on the subject
of the proposed English Breviary from Mr. Keble and
Mr. Oakeley through the summer and autumn of 1844.
But the latter was drawing nearer and nearer to Rome ;
and in spite of Dr. Pusey's persistent efforts, and Mr. Keble's
warm interest in, and advice concerning details of the work,
it was never finished.1
1 The whole correspondence is one of so much interest, in its bearing on
the Roman question as then viewed by men of mark, that, in a separate small
volume it would form a curious and valuable contribution to the story of the
time shortly preceding Newman's secession.

1844-1 SUMMER AT ILFRACOMBE. 247
From Rev. J. H. Newman.
Roehampton, July n, 1844.
My dear Pusey, — I am here for a few hours, having come to
administer to Bowden the Holy Communion. He is very weak,
but very cheerful. . . . Gladstone has printed a number of copies
of an article of his in Palmer's Review on Lady G. Fullerton's
novel, in order to bring out the moral of it, viz. the expedience
of Confession. He seems to think it had better be begun, not to
priests, but to any one, by way of accustoming people to the thing
itself; yet so very awful a thing, as it is to so many persons,
requires that support from sacred and sacramental sanctions
which priestly ordinances alone can give. Confession cannot
well be disjoined from absolution.
All through July Dr. Pusey wrote very frequently to
his friend, consulting him about the adapted books of
devotion. His intense anxiety to let Dr. Newman know
how much he could accept without disloyalty to the
English communion can be read between the lines in
almost every letter.
Now one might (he wrote, Ilfracombe, July 19), as matter of
Christian prudence, try, by God's blessing — as you did so remark
ably in your first volume of sermons — to form a certain iJ0os in the
confidence that if that were formed, all besides would, by His
Grace, follow ; or one might teach all which one held to be true,
without reserve, fearlessly, simply because one believed it to be
true, and trusting to Him Whose Truth it is, as to the results.
And in books, one seems to have more liberty than in parochial
teaching. Bishop Philpotts came to Ilfracombe during Dr. Pusey's
visit ; gave him full permission to preach in his diocese,
and confirmed Philip Pusey, now fourteen, with marks of
special kindness. Dissenters, who came to hear Dr. Pusey

248 ADAPTED BOOKS.
preach at Ilfracombe, joined with the usual congregation
in begging that his sermons might be published, and the
Bishop wrote in answer to a request that they might be
dedicated to him, ' I shall esteem myself honoured by your
dedication.' July 24.
I saw the Bishop privately. He was very courteous to me,
as he always is ; said he was glad to see me at all times, especially
in his diocese, . . . praised my meekness (which I felt it half
hypocrisy to hear, since I am preparing to appeal against the
V.-C.) ; said that he saw nothing to censure in my sermon, that
I had been hardly dealt with, though he thought that he differed
in expression, but expression only, from myself. . . .
I wish to consult you about the Paradisus. I had thought
one must have parted with the whole second part, de ailtti
Sanctorum,1 yet I do not like to do so, because we have lost so
much by the abeyance of almost all doctrine upon the doctrine.
Some prayers I must omit altogether. Some might altogether
stand ; some, with a slight alteration which I should make. In
the Litanice de Sanctis Angelis I thought of substituting for the ora
pro nobis —
Grant that St. Michael, the Prince of the \
heavenly host ; ! ,
That St. Gabriel, who made known the | ' " ^
vision to Daniel, etc. /
This is only doing in act what I justified in the abstract, now
some years ago, in my defence of Tract 90. I suppose . . . some
will start back. However, I cannot help it. Undated letter.
Perhaps one ought not to forecast as if one could imagine,
how the Roman Church and we should come into one again.
One cannot but think, as the great struggle with unbelief comes
1 In the end Dr. Pusey reverted to his first thought, and this part is
omitted in the English adapted ' Paradise of the Christian Soul.'

1844.] INTERCESSION OF SAINTS. 249
on, we must be on the same side, we too acknowledging in the
Creeds an authority out of ourselves. If one may think at all, it
seems as though the wall never would be broken down, unless we
admit we can; if we receive what we see, then I suppose we
should be in the way to see as to the remainder, and Rome would
estimate us better, and be more disposed to reunion.
This may be too political a view, but then, individually, since
the saints intercede for us, and if it be true, as it seems, that the
intercession of St. Mary is of very special value, then individuals
may be undergoing a loss in not wishing for it, as one who knew
not the value of intercessory prayer of friends on earth, or of the
Church. How far, with this impression, is one justified in sup
pressing a doctrine not at variance with anything in our Church ?
This applies still more to the whole Part II. de Sanctis, in
which I consulted you about the litany de Angelis, and you said
that the substitution of the ' oret' for the ' ora' was perhaps the
best way of getting out of the difficulty, although you felt it as a
difficulty still. I had thought of doing so, and in a preface to that
part giving passages from the Fathers on invocation of saints. . . .
I had settled in editing the Breviary to keep the ' May Holy
Mary and all the Saints,' etc., in Prime, because I can use it
myself; it comes naturally to me.
And so the correspondence continued for about a
month ; long letters from Dr. Pusey, pouring out his feelings
as to details in his books, asking anxiously for his friend's
opinion, taking his sympathy for granted ; Newman's
replies much shorter, reserved, embarrassed, sad, as though
grieving that Dr. Pusey would not see that the question
between them was not of how much could be accepted in
the English communion, but of whether it was a part of
the Catholic Church.
A letter from Newman, in thought of his friend's forty-
fifth birthday, at last changed the character of the corre
spondence between them, which continued till the end of

250 CORRESPONDENCE WITH NEWMAN.
August. The thought of the suffering which it must have
caused to both the friends causes even now a pang when
reading the very letters which Dr. Pusey must have opened
with sore misgivings. Newman's letter (August 18) was
written on hearing of Dr. Pusey's state of dejection.
' Really this ought not to be,' he says ; and he tries to
cheer him by reminding him of the 'fact that it has
pleased God to work, and to be working' through him
' more good than can be told.' He asks him to consider
whether all the visible signs of increasing holiness in
souls is not ' a hundred times more certain ' than that
joining the Church of Rome is evil, praying him to take
'the tempers and habits' which God had made him His
instrument in creating in the souls of so many as ' a token
and covenant that good must come in the end.'
There was not comfort for his friend even in these loving
words. ' The tendency Romewards,' he replied (August 21),
' when I was first told it, did shatter me, and I felt like
one who had been left ashore, and the tide sweeping by, I
knew not whither.' He ends his letter by saying that he
had solemnly asked God that, if it were His will, any
sorrow, ' without injury to the Church or to souls,' might
befall himself rather than Newman leaving us. 'And so I
wait the end.'
Newman's reply (August 23) could not tend to cheer
him, implying as it did, more and more, the inevitable end.
' Can a true Church lose her children, and those her better
ones ? ' he asks. . . . ' The expecting it implies so far forth
a doubt whether ours is a true Church.' 'Be sure, my
dear Pusey,' he ends his note, ' when the blow comes we
shall, in God's mercy, have strength given us to bear it.'

1844-1 CORRESPONDENCE WITH NEWMAN. 25 1
It is no longer ' if the blow comes,' and in a long letter
of reply Dr. Pusey tries to explain his own position, not
fearing ' the fall of what is called Anglicanism,' but looking
to ' a reunion of the Church as the end,' though ' on what
terms and in what way we be reunited to the rest of the
Western Church must be in His hands, Who will guide, I
trust, her and ours.' He had hoped and 'trusted entirely
that while our Church is what it is . . . the body of her
better children would stay in her.' But he expresses his
fears that there was more earnest desire and fervent prayer
in the Roman Communion that Newman should pass over
to it, than there was in England to keep him, and so he
feared his ' will might be swayed,' while yet, he writes, ' the
well-being of our Church seems to me, by God's providence,
to have been wrapped up in you.'
Newman's answer (August 28) is of one suffering deeply,
and in difficulty as to every word. ' Yet it does seem
better to me to have all out once for all,' he says, . . .
' than to keep hacking and hacking bit by bit.' And he
goes on to speak of himself as ' one who, even five years
ago, had a strong conviction, from reading the history of
the early ages, that we are not part of the Church ' as of
one ' who is frightened, and cannot tell what it may end
in, if he dares to turn a deaf ear to a voice which has
so long spoken to him.' ' And now, my dear Pusey,' he
says in conclusion, ' do take in the whole of the case,
nor shut your eyes, as you so kindly do continually,
and God bless all things to you, as I am sure He will
and does.'
I do not shut my eyes now (Dr. Pusey replied, August 30).
. . . But though I feel as in a vessel threatened with shipwreck,

252 ANXIETY FOR MR. OAKELEY.
I trust that our Lord is still in her, and that, however perilled, she
will not perish. ... I can hardly do anything or take interest in
anything. ... It seems like building on with a mine under the
foundations. However, as I recover myself, I do hope that God
will not allow this to be nor destroy His work in the midst of the
years, and so I hope, and commit things to Him Who can sway
all hearts. Blow followed upon blow. Dr. Pusey had long been
on terms of affectionate intimacy with -Mr. Oakeley, the
minister of Margaret Chapel, and took a deep interest in
his congregation and his work. His chapel and Mr. Dods-
worth's church were at that time the only centres of
Catholic teaching in London. Mr. Oakeley wrote fre
quently to Dr. Pusey both about public matters and
individual cases, and it is certainly surprising that these
letters did not, apparently, cause Dr. Pusey more anxiety
as to what the end would be. More than a year before
this time Mr. Oakeley, in the course of the correspondence
about the Breviary translation, had offered to take all the
work of it off Dr. Pusey's hands, on the conditions he
(Mr. Oakeley) had originally mentioned ' of omitting all
which could be even questionable, and substituting from
the Breviary or from Scripture where substitution might
be necessary ; ' but he wrote in the same letter (May 2,
1844) that though he should not wish ' to introduce any
thing that could be thought characteristically Roman', yet
that he was certain of being unable to work with any
helper who had ' a less reverential estimate of the Roman
faith ' than himself ; that estimate being to take it ' sim
pliciter as authoritative.' He seems to have feared
Dr. Pusey's associating some one with him in the work
who would be a drag on his own tendencies.

1 844-1 UNFOUNDED HOPES. 253
Still, as with Newman, Dr. Pusey shut his eyes. He
saw that Mr. Oakeley, who seems to have been a very
lovable person, was doing a great work in London, his
chapel a centre for devout minds, frequented by such men
as Gladstone, James Hope Scott, etc., etc., all the truths
and holy living, which the Tracts had tried to teach anew,
preached and embraced, and, as Mr. Oakeley did not claim
to teach more than the English Prayer-book authorized,
Dr. Pusey appears to have looked upon opinions which
went beyond it as passing moods of thought. Throughout
life this irrepressible hopefulness caused keen disappoint
ment to himself and misunderstanding of his ways on the
part of others. Mr. Keble, to whom he had sent Mr.
Oakeley's letter, was at once much alarmed.
While I am extremely anxious (he wrote, June 6, 1844) to
have him working for and with you, and extremely adverse to
anything which would seem in the least to repel him from you, yet
it does seem necessary that in justice to yourself and your cause
you should look the matter fairly in the face, I mean as to the
advisableness of going on with him in so very delicate a task, he
having so distinctly avowed his views and purposes as he does in
this letter. I do not say that it would be wrong to go on with
him. ... I am so shamefully ignorant of the true merits of the
case between us and Rome, that I cannot form a judgment in the
matter. I only wish you to be prepared for the contingency of
the work, either really or in appearance helping to reconcile
Englishmen to Rome as she is, and of its being said that you had
no great objection to such a result, otherwise you would not have
gone on with Oakeley after his present declaration.
And so, during this autumn of 1844, Dr. Pusey turned
from the thought of that 'depth of disappointment ' which
he could not realize as probable, and continued to consult
Newman about those who were perplexed, not seeming to

254 DEATH OF MR. BOWDEN.
read between the lines of his embarrassed answers what
would have been plain to others' eyes. Yet he wrote to
Mr. Copeland, who, since Newman had resigned St. Mary's,
had been in charge of Littlemore Church, ' One's heart is
half broken ; ' and entreats him not to resign, as he wished
to do, on account of the value of his presence there to
Newman, who was living close by in his monastic cottages.
To a note from the latter, telling him of Mr. Bowden's
death, Dr. Pusey replied : — September 19, 1844.
I was going to write to you;to-day, though what have I to
say which has not been said to you by Him Who is ever with
you? These peaceful departures are bright spots in a cloudy
sky. ' Lord, brighten our declining day.' ... He thought each
closing day so much of his trial over. I was struck by the way
in which he asked for our prayers. And this makes that bright
calm close the brighter. God be praised for His mercies. What
a long, long past seems closed ; it makes one think there can be
but a short remaining earthly future. Yet He, I trust, is in the
cloud now, Who was in the pillar of fire before.
I have not written to Mrs. B., because she has in you all which
she can have on earth. But give my love to any of the dear little
ones whom it would not interrupt.
Ever, my dearest Newman,
Your very affectionate friend,
E. B. Pusey.
It was but last year we compared ; I had twenty years of your
friendship, he only had more.1
To the Rev. Prebendary Henderson he says (November
4, 1844) :—
You are quite right in thinking that N. has no feelings drawing
1 'John William Bowden died September 15, 1844. I sobbed bitterly
over his coffin to think that he had left me still dark as to what the way of
truth was, and what I ought to do in order to please God and fulfil His
Will. — J. H. N.' — Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman, ii. p. 48.

1844.] ' IDEAL OF A CHRISTIAN CHURCH.' 2$$
him away from us ; all his feelings and sympathies have been for
our Church ; he has toiled for it as no other has. . . . What I
fear is a deep and deepening despondency about her, whether,
with all the evils so rife in her — the tolerance of heresy and the
denial of truth — she is indeed part of God's Church. From time
to time he seems encouraged by tokens of God's grace vouchsafed
in her, but the tide sets the other way ; he is very heavy-minded.
During the pressure of this deep sorrow, another cause
of gravest anxiety arose — the publication of Mr. Ward's
' Ideal of a Christian Church.' Dr. Liddon considers this
book as valuable on account of its pointing out undeniable
shortcomings and evils in the practical system of the
Church of England ; although taking for an ' Ideal,' not
the primitive Church, but 'largely, the actual Roman
system.' x Dr. Pusey does not, however, appear to have
felt objections to the book strongly, for in a letter to Dr.
Hook (September 5, 1844) he says : —
I feel how deep our wounds are, and that we shall get no good
until they are probed to the bottom, and therefore, however pain
ful the process and rough the hands may seem, I am glad to
undergo it, and thankful for it. ... I believe his feeling to be
this in part; we have great practical evils, such as neglect of
discipline, of care of the poor, carelessness as to heresy, and,
alas, so many more, and as long as we have the high opinion
of ourselves, and contempt of our neighbours, there is no hope of
our mending.
E. B. P. to Rev. J. Keble.
We are just now in great apprehension what may be the
measures of the committee in the Hebdomadal Board appointed
fo consider the mode .of condemning Ward's book. I do so dread
1 See Life, ii. p. 414.

256 MR. WARD SUMMONED.
doctrinal propositions involving one knows not what. . . . Things
are driving on very fast ; their horse-hoofs are iron, and they have
no pity. ' But Thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us.' . . . And
then it comes to me from time to time, Is it on account of myself
that our 'chariot wheels drive heavily'? Things go so very
wrong.
E. B. P. to Rev. J. H. Newman.
December 16, 1844.
You will not so far despond for us as not to give us
your earnest prayers. I cannot think all is lost, when I see so
much good springing up daily within our Church, and that, of our
Church, and through her means of grace and with all their needs
satisfied in her. Since I have had more, in a measure, cure of
souls, I have seen such wonderful workings of Divine grace, and
that through the ordinances of our Church, that I cannot think He
will forsake her. God comfort you, at all times, though I am
unworthy to pray it. Brighton, December 31, 1844.
Manning, if he votes at all on I. and IL, will vote
against them. Keble writes, ' It is pleasant to hear from all sides
of the disgust which the test is exciting. But I fear it will go
hard with Ward.' . . . Meanwhile, it is a great comfort to see a
very deep under-current of good steadily flowing on, and that in
persons who are the formation of our own Church. I have of late
been allowed to come in contact with more of such minds than
heretofore, and to see very deep workings.
The events which followed have often been related —
Mr. Ward's summons b> appear before the Vice-Chancellor
(Dr. Symons) on November 30 ; the notice given of three
propositions to be submitted to Convocation in the follow
ing February (1845), the first declaring certain passages
in the ' Ideal of a Christian Church ' to be ' utterly
inconsistent with the Thirty-nine Articles and with Mr,

1844-1 NEW TEST PROPOSED. 2 $7
Ward's good faith in subscribing them in order to his
admission to the degrees of B.A. and M.A.' By the second
Mr. Ward was to be degraded from his degrees. The third
proposed a 'test to be imposed on all persons, lay or
clerical, who might hereafter be suspected of unsound
opinions, in place of simple subscription.' Every such
person was to declare that he subscribed the Articles in the
sense in which he believed them to have been originally
drawn up, and to be imposed by the University at the
present time.
Dr. Pusey thereupon wrote a long letter, on December
17, 1844, to the English Churchman, declaring that if this
new test were to pass Convocation he would not accept it,
that he had hitherto signed the Articles 'in the way in
which, from Archbishop Laud's time, they have been pro
posed by the Church! whereas the test was proposed by
the University in order to force its present interpretation
of the Articles on any one differing from it. To Mr. Keble
he wrote : — Christ Church, 2nd Sunday in Advent, 1844.
Perhaps you will have heard of these dreadful statutes to
degrade Ward, and to give the V.-C. the power of requiring any
one, ' Head of a House or other,' to sign a statement that he
subscribes the Articles in the sense in which they were primitus
editi et nunc ab Universitate propositi. ... N. hopes that the
Liberals will help us ; . . . others may help against oppression ;
but this wild, anti-Romanist fanaticism is a fearful antagonist. All
the four winds seem let loose upon our unhappy Church. . . .
Privately, we must leave no stone unturned. I hope your neigh
bour, Sir William Heathcote, and Barter will not fail us now. If
they and such do, Oxford is lost as any defence of Catholicism.
For on three refusals of this new test, a person is to be expelled. S

258 CONDEMNATION OF TRACT 90 PROPOSED.
To Dr. Hook, who was very bitter against Ward, but
in the end voted against his degradation, he wrote that he
thought the measures against him shocking, since the
Heads believed him to be honest, and that nothing in his
subscription could, at the worst, be so bad as in that of
men who 'impugn the doctrine of the Trinity or deny the
grace of the Sacraments. . . . For the Low Church, who
cannot receive the Baptismal Service, except by some
violent perversion, to help to hunt down Ward is most
outrageous.' It became apparent that the feeling against the pro
posed test was so strong that there would be ' an over
whelming majority of votes against it,' x and on January
13, the Hebdomadal Board decided to withdraw it. But
it was proposed to substitute for it a condemnation of Tract
90 in the words of a resolution adopted by the Heads of
Houses on its publication in 1841, but which they knew
there was no chance of Convocation accepting at that time.
Now there were good hopes of tacking it on to the censure
upon Ward's book.
Although sorrow for Oxford and the Church is even at this
moment the strongest feeling in my breast (Mr. Gladstone wrote
to Dr. Pusey, February 7), yet indignation at this proposal to treat
Mr. Newman worse than a dog really makes me mistrust my
judgment, as I suppose one should always do when any pro
posal seeming to present an aspect of incredible wickedness is
advanced. The distress of it all must have been increased for Dr.
Pusey by his fears for the effect on Newman, whom he
1 Rev. J. B. Mozley's Letters, p. 160.

1844-1 'RECKLESS PERSECUTION' 259
still hoped to keep, and who wrote to him a week before
the meeting of Convocation : —
I should not be honest, if I did not begin by saying that I shall
be glad, selfishly speaking, if this decree passes. Long, indeed,
have I been looking for external circumstances to determine my
course, and I do not wish this daylight to be withdrawn.
E. B. P. to Rev. Dr. Hook.
So, on scarcely nine days' notice, it is to be proposed to con
demn Tract 90. It is monstrous. Such headlong persecution
never can prosper in the end. . . . Such is the fruit of yielding
with these men. N. has successively given up the Tracts, an
influential pulpit, sermons, a most deep and healthful influence over
young men, his residence in Oxford, his ' Lives of the Saints,' and
now that he has been doing nothing except editing St. Athanasius'
great defence of the faith, he is to be pursued even to his retreat
at Littlemore and condemned there. . . . Surely this reckless
persecution must fall back on people's heads. When ;they have
'beaten him and entreated him shamefully and sent him away
empty,' they will discover at last whose servant they have so dealt
with. Meanwhile, Archbishop Whateley, who is both Sabellian and
Nestorian, who opened poor Blanco White's eyes to see that on
the Archbishop's principle he was an Unitarian, is urging all this
on, and uncondemned. They who censure Ward will not have
their own consciences clear unless they do all in their power to
have Archbishop Whateley condemned.
To Dr. Newman he wrote : —
Shrove Tuesday [February 4, 1843].
It is wretched to have holy seasons, which one needs,
thus broken in upon ; however, I must break in on yours. I would
have come out to-night, but that I thought to see Copeland, and
that he would have leamt from you what you think best.
I should hope the Heads would suffer from the invidiousness

260 NEWMAN'S ATTITUDE.
of proposing the condemnation of Tract 90 at nine days' notice.
Might one possibly fight with more advantage now than if it were
to be put off by the Proctors' veto, if one can get it ? There is no
time to lose in deciding which course to take.
Recollect that I am committed to Tract 90 as well as you,
and so are so many others who would feel the blow, as I should
not for myself, so give me your judgment as to the best line for
our common defence. Could you send in an answer by one to
morrow, when there is to be a meeting ? I would not use or hint
at your name, except to Marriott or Church.
Dr. Newman's answer to this note does not remain, but
on February 6 he wrote : —
I should not be honest, if I did not begin by saying that I
shall be glad, selfishly speaking, if this decree passes.
Moreover, I have had to take so lukewarm a part about Ward,
that I am really glad and relieved to find myself at last in the
scrape. The only drawback is that I am not alone in it, not, I
fear, from tenderness towards him, so much as that it would be a
more dignified thing if I stood by myself.
I cannot say I have any pain about it, and I could not honestly
approximate in the faintest degree to an appeal ad misericordiam.
All this makes me a bad adviser. But again, my raw opinion
is worth little. I continually change it. It is after talking with
others, and one or two good nights' sleep, that I begin to have a
view, whether a right or wrong one. . . .
I really should fear that the Protestant spirit in the University
is roused, and that it would force on the Heads of Houses. I do
not see any chance of a reaction. They are in a tide of victories.
The younger Liberals, A. P. Stanley amongst them,
took part against the Heads, and it became known that
the Proctors, Mr. Guillemard and Mr. R. W. Church, would,
if necessary, use their power of ' forbidding proceedings in
Convocation which they judged inexpedient for the
University,' and would veto the condemnation of Tract 90^

1844.I DEGRADATION OF MR. WARD. 261
There seems now no doubt (Dr. Pusey wrote to Dr. Hook)
that this dreadful censure on Tract 90, me, and others, will be
vetoed by the Proctors. Thank you for thinking of coming.
The veto will be on account of the indecent haste. Dr. Faussett
avows that it was only thought of as an expedient because they
had not all the support for Ward's degradation that they hoped
for. This manoeuvring is wretched. I suppose people in general
will come up, for it is a strong thing for the Proctors to veto it in
presence of 470 requisitionists, and there is the unjust degradation
of Ward too. The rumour is afloat. Anyhow, do you stay at
home and pray for us and help us another time if needed.
From all parts of the country men came up for that
memorable meeting of Convocation on February 13,
184S. As you will have heard, the No. 90 move has mounted up
tremendously (Mr. Mozley wrote to his sister, February 5). I
confess it was so very low and ungenerous, that I did not expect
it. . . .
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 clubs upon us. . . .
Newman will take it very easy ; but these things disgust and
affect him more than he shows.1
The late Dean Church was Junior Proctor at this time.
' Amid slush and snow,' on February 1 3, Convocation met
in the Sheldonian Theatre, which was crowded with
Masters of Art, only voters being admitted. Mr. Ward
defended himself, after the passages from his book had
been read on which the proceedings against him were
founded, and the voting began.
The first vote (the condemnation of the book) was carried by
777 to 386. The second (that Mr. Ward should be degraded from
1 Letters of Rev. J. B. Mozley, pp. 162, 163.

262 THE PROCTORS' VETO.
his degrees), by a more evenly balance division, 569 to 511.
When the Vice-Chancellor put the third (the formal censure of the
principles of Tract 90), the Proctors rose, and the Senior Proctor, Mr.
Guillemard of Trinity, stopped it in the words, Nobis procuratoribus
non placet} Such a step, of course, only suspended the vote, and
the year of office of these Proctors was nearly run. But ... all
attempts to revive the decree at the expiration of their year of
office failed. The wiser heads in the Hebdomadal Board
recognized at last that they had better hold their hand.2
On February 22 Mr. Gladstone wrote to Dr. Pusey that
the Archbishop of Canterbury had expressed to him in
1 a kind note ' his opinion that there would be no further
attack on Tract 90, and added, ' What a conclusive testi
mony does this afford that the interposition of the Proctors
was no less wise and just than it was courageous.'
Within a few days after his friend Mr. Ward's con
demnation, Mr. Oakeley wrote a public letter to the Vice-
Chancellor, claiming for himself the right to hold, though
not to teach, all Roman doctrine, and the result of a suit
in the Arches Court which followed was, on June 30, 1845,
the revocation of Mr. Oakeley's license to officiate at
Margaret Chapel or anywhere in the diocese or province
of Canterbury. The matter deeply affected Dr. Pusey, both from its
increasing the suspicion with which he was regarded, and
1 Guillemard, the Senior Proctor, delivered his veto with immense effect.
A shout of Non was raised, and resounded through the whole building and
Placets from the other side, over which Guillemard'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. —
Letters of Rev. J. B. Mozley, p. 165.
1 The Oxford Movement, by Dean Church, p. 331.

1844-1 DR. PUSEY'S CHIVALRY. 263
the personal pain to himself. He might too often have
said in many troubles ' Defend me from my friends,' but he
never did say it ; on the contrary, when they were com
promised, either by imprudence or honest expression of
growing conviction, he tried to the last to identify himself
with them, and to hold over them his own stainless
shield.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XIII.
The following letter to the Rev. E. P. Richards of Farlington,
from his wife, is interesting, as showing the standard of services,
etc., in the most ' advanced ' churches in London at this time.

Gower Street, Sunday Evg., March 21, 1844 [or 1845].
My dearest Edward, — Whilst I remember them I wish to
give you a few particulars of what has been given out this morning
at Christ Church for next Wednesday, and other days in Lent.
At the proper time Mr. Dodsworth gave notice, first, that there
would be Prayers daily during the continuance of Lent ; then —
that, Thursday next, being the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin,
there would be the proper service for the day — that there would
also continue to be a Sacrament on every Thursday in Lent. He
then gave notice of the Fast-day (speaking of its being set apart as
a day of especial humiliation for our sins, etc., etc.), adding that
there would on that day be service at six o'clock in the morning
(the Litany) ; Morning Prayers at eight o'clock, tbe full service
and a sermon at eleven ; Evening Prayers and catechising at three
o'clock; and, at seven, Evening Service and a sermon, and the
church would be kept open the whole day. I wish you could
have gone to Christ Church to-day, the service was so solemn and
earnest (such a contrast to that at St. Pancras this afternoon).
There were six officiating clergymen ; Dr. Pusey preached.
At the conclusion of the sermon he said 'the grace of our
Lord,' etc., etc., and then immediately left the pulpit and returned
to the Altar, where he and the other Priests remained on their
knees, engaged in prayer, during the whole time those who did
not remain [for] the Sacrament were leaving the church. The

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XIII. 26$
organ during this time played a very low and mournful strain,
quite suited to the time. The Altar, pulpit, and reading-desk
were covered with black cloth. The alms were collected in richly
embroidered black velvet bags, which have a sort of stiff metal
contrivance at the opening for handing them about and keeping
them open. They (the bags) were collected together afterwards
on a gold plate (or salver), and carried by one of the Priests into
the vestry. The congregation remained till the Clergy left the
Altar, so we saw that every Priest carried thence one of the
Sacramental vessels. Miss Ashburner tells me that the having
the Sacrament on a Thursday is a revival of an early custom of the
Church (only begun this Lent), in commemoration of the institu
tion of our Lord's Supper having been on a Thursday. It is
administered at eight o'clock in the morning, with merely the
Communion Service, and on that day there are morning prayers
at eleven. The text of Dr. Pusey's sermon was from the four
teenth verse of the second chapter of Hosea. You can imagine
how beautifully he explained and enlarged upon it. I cannot
attempt to give you any of his words, I should so mar their
beauty. His discourse was full of the love and universal charity
for which he and his writings are so distinguished.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE FIRST ANGLICAN SISTERHOOD.
1845-
Di lui si fecer poi diversi rivi,
Onde l'orto cattolico si riga
SI che i suoi arbuscelli stan piu vivi.
Paradiso, c. xii.
On the day of Lucy Pusey's death, her father, writing to
tell Newman of her departure, said : —
I ventured to give her in charge to pray for us all in the
presence of her Redeemer, and, if it might be, for those insti
tutions to which she had herself hoped to belong.
The same thought was in Mr. Keble's mind, for he
wrote, on April 25 : —
I suppose, such seems to be the mysterious connection between
things here and there, that it is impossible to know whether the
very cause, for the sake of which (among other things) we so
desired her recovery, may not be rather promoted (though, of
course, we must not expect to see how) by her departure.
' We meet on Saturday to consider the propriety of at
once taking the house which Lord John Manners1 has
seen this morning, and is greatly pleased with,' Mr.
* Now Duke of Rutland.

I84S-1 EARLY PROJECTS. 267
Dodsworth wrote to her father, on May 21, 1884, just a
month after her death. He had taken a leading part at
the important meeting held in London on. the very day
of her funeral, to consider the establishment of English
Sisterhoods. To Newman he wrote of his wish being always
— to set people in the right direction in ministering to those who
were being drawn away from our Church, and to help to fix their
minds on what God has done or is doing for her, instead of going
to the abstract controversies, for which such are utterly unfit very
often, and which only irritates them, and takes them off them
selves, and the sense of their own duties.
And, as so often, he thought first whether his own
house and his own means could not be utilized for what
he hoped would be profitable : —
What do you think of my trying a female /xovrj? (he had
written to Newman).1 I have thought ... of giving two rooms
in my house to a lady educating two orphan, e.g. daughters of
clergy. My idea was ' having food and raiment,' that they should
' be therewith content.' I have since been involved in expenses
of different sorts which I did not anticipate ; but hope I could
manage something of the kind. ... I have thought this might be
a beginning of a /iovyj. And if dear L. lives, this is the life she
hopes for herself, and were I continued here until she were old
enough, there would be a companion for her, and a preparation
for her to enter on.
For some years Dr. Pusey had had frequent corre
spondence with many friends, lay and clerical, as to his
cherished scheme of establishing a religious community
of women. . . . 'You have probably received a beautiful
1 In an undated note, probably in 1842 or 1 843.

268 PROJECTS REALIZED.
prospectus about fioval,' he wrote to Mr. Keble, October 21,
1842. 'It is very striking. I wish I knew who drew it
up. My heart is much set on them, and do pray that we
may have them in what form He wills. It seems to me
the great desideratum in our Church. The want of them
has been a sore loss to me.' The following extract from
another letter of his to Mr. Keble (February 6, 1843) is
interesting and curious, as showing how far he was from
imagining the great communities, highly organized, and
under Episcopal control and sanction, of which he was
sowing the seed : —
I agree with you that B[isley] would be a good place for a
fj-ovri, and certainly I should think that it was a matter with which
a Bishop has nothing to do. If an institution was being formed
which was to be formally organized, branching out into other
parishes or dioceses, this would be another matter ; but for a few
young women to live together in one house for the purposes of
devotion and charity, it really would be most monstrous if a
Bishop were any way to take cognizance of it. It would be
violating the sacredness of domestic charity and devotion.
' The juovt? is to be opened in Easter week with two
Sisters,' he wrote, in February, 1 845 ; ' there may be more
before Trinity.' 'The feeling after this mode of life is
growing wonderfully.' ' I know of seven in Edinburgh
alone,' he says in another note.1
Miss Marian Hughes, who had, on the day of Lucy
Pusey's first communion, and kneeling by her side, vowed
herself to a life of special devotion, has kindly sent the
writer the following notice of this first seed-plant of the
1 I.e. seven women wishing for such a life.

1845-1 FIRST SISTERHOOD BEGUN. -• 269
various and numerous Sisterhoods now spread over almost
the whole English empire —
The house for this first Anglican Sisterhood — No. 17, Park
Village, Regent's Park — was taken in the name of Lord John
Manners; it was in the district belonging to Christ Church
which had recently been formed out of New St. Pancras' parish.
Towards the erection of the church Dr. Pusey had contributed
;£iooo : at that time Mr. Dodsworth was the incumbent.
No. 17, Park Village, was not like a London house: it had
a pretty garden round it, and looked like some of the tiny villas
one sees in the environs of London. The house has long since
been swept away for a more regular street.
The Sisters were employed in visiting the poor and sick at
their own homes, receiving and training orphans, giving shelter
to women of good character while seeking occupation, also in the
care of a day school for very poor children.
The little Home was opened on the Wednesday after
Easter, March 26, 1845, beginning with two Sisters — Miss
Jane Ellacombe, daughter of a well-known clergyman, the
Vicar of Bitton, Gloucestershire, and Miss Mary Bruce.1
I am vexed (Dr. Pusey wrote, March 28, to Mr. Keble) that
I forgot that you did not know upon what day the little Sisterhood
was to commence. Two Sisters entered their Home on Easter
Wednesday (one Miss E.) ; they are very promising ; a third we
expect on Friday week. We, i.e. Dodsworth and myself, had a
little service with them on Wednesday; they were in floods 01
tears, but of joy, in the prayers for them. On Sunday at a
quarter to eight is to be their first communion subsequent to
their solemn entrance. Will you remember them then? There
are no vows, but they have given themselves for life.
1 Of these two first Sisters Miss Ellacombe remained in the life she had
chosen until her death on Christmas Day, 1854. Miss Bruce's health failed,
and she lived for some years at Christ Church as a sort of duenna to Dr.
Pusey's young daughter. After the latter's marriage, she worked at Dundee
under Bishop Forbes.

270 THE FIRST SISTERS.
Thank you much about the Paradisus. I shall be glad to
consult you about the forthcoming parts also. The next is de
cultu SS. Trinitatis ; there are most beautiful prayers and acts of
devotion in it.
In a letter (October 12, 1898) from Miss Terrot, daughter
of the Bishop of Edinburgh, who was the next to join the
little community, she says : —
I had a regard and reverence for Dr. Pusey from reading a
long letter he wrote in 1838 to the Bishop of Oxford. In 1841
he wrote to my father, thanking him for something in his Charge,
and introducing a gentleman who, he said, was exercising a great
and valuable influence on one whose life and character might be
of inestimable value to our Church and country. This was, I
believe, W. E. Gladstone. I do not remember the name of the
person said to influence him. . . . During the winter of 1844-
1845 my father also wrote to Dr. Pusey, and I went by steamer,
arriving at 17, Park Village West, on April 4. Dr. Pusey came
soon after and prayed with us and said Compline.
The Sisters were joined a few weeks later by Miss
Langston, who was ten years older than any of her
companions, and became Superior. To Miss Hughes
Dr. Pusey wrote : —
With regard to the little Sisterhood, it is growing in numbers,
and they in the grace of God. It is one of the brightest spots
I know of. I do hope this is the blossom of rich fruit. The
Sisters are only in their external works under the superintendence
of Mr. D., who tells them whom they are to visit. The house,
which is a small one, only holding ten, will probably soon over
flow. The little Sisterhood is feeling its way or, rather, being led
on of God.
It was a great solace to him in the sorrow ever present
to his mind at this time with regard to his dearest friend,

1845.] CIRCULAR FROM LAYMEN. 27 X
God seems to be so moving people's hearts (he wrote to Mr.
Keble, April 1 1) that there seem tokens of mercy in the midst
of the heavy suffering which our Church will undergo, not having
been able to use the instrument He gave her. . . . Do not omit
to pray for the little Sisterhood, as also for a fwvij of clergy,
which I hope will grow up out of a sort of Curates' College at
Leeds. They are pledged to nothing, but have a good head.
A remarkable paper, marked Confidential and headed
' Sisters of Mercy,' was drawn up and circulated at this time,
stating the great need for the work of Sisters in our great
towns, and that ' the present institution has commenced in
the parochial district of Christ Church, St. Pancras, in
which is a large population of destitute poor.'
The paper was headed by an extract from Southey's
' Colloquies ' : —
There is ... in such associations, nothing but what is
righteous and holy ; nothing but what properly belongs to that
OprjtTKeia, that religious service which the Apostle James, the
brother of our Lord, has told us is pure and undefiled before God
and the Father. They who shall see such societies instituted and
flourishing here may have a better hope that it may please the
Almighty to continue His manifold mercies to this island, not
withstanding the errors which endanger it, and the offences which
cry to heaven.1
The names of the laymen who made it possible to begin
this first Sisterhood must not be omitted. The paper
concluded with the following engagement : —
We, the undersigned, having contributed, or intending to
contribute, to the maintenance, for the term of three years, of the
house about to be opened in the district of Christ Church, St.
Pancras, for the reception of Sisters of Mercy, hereby express our
1 Southey's Colloquies, vol. ii. p. 330.

272 THE FIRST DIFFICULTIES.
intention of using our best endeavours at the close of that term, if
the experience obtained in the interval shall justify the expectation
of the permanent continuance of the institution, to place its
resources upon the footing which may be requisite for its regular
support. John Manners. W. E. Gladstone.
Clive. R. M. Milnes.
Camden. F. H. Dickinson.
Lyttelton. J. D. Watts Russell.
John Hanmer. T. D. Acland, Jun.
Adare. F. A. M'Geachy.
W. Monsell. A. J. B. Hope.
But the difficulties were immense, even less from out
ward causes than from the entire inexperience, both in the
leaders and those who had to be led. The greatest want
was of any sort of knowledge of community life, and,
consequently, of power to direct and teach others, in any
English Churchwoman. Miss Langston won devoted love
from many under her, but she could not give training
which she had never received herself, and Dr. Pusey,
assisted by Mr. Dodsworth, was obliged to fulfil many
of the duties of Superior as well as chaplain ; almost
everything which now goes without saying in Sisterhoods
— endless questions or even minute details — being of
necessity referred to him. He had for years tried to
collect information as to the constitution of conventual
houses both in the Latin and Greek communions, and
there are two interesting letters written to him at this
time by Dr. Wiseman. In the first (January 18, 1845)
he sends ' the order of the day as set out for the
Sisters of Mercy at Birmingham ' ; and adds, ' The
meditation is generally left to each religious under the

IS4S-I THE SISTERS' WORK. 273
direction of the confessor. ... As to reading, the Holy
Scriptures, the Lives of Saints, Rodriguez, etc., are, I
believe, most ordinarily in use.' The next letter is written
early in 1846, shortly before the first Lent in the new
Home, and gives the dietary of the Birmingham Sisters,
' using,' he says, ' the dispensations granted by the Bishop
to the Diocese, viz. meat on Sunday, Tuesday, and Thurs
day.' » On other days ' fish, or eggs and vegetables form
the principal diet,' and, Dr. Wiseman added, ' on this diet
they find they can go through all their duties ; though
some who are infirm may require further dispensation.'
Everything had also to be arranged as to their active
employment. Nearly a month after the ' fiovrj ' had been
opened Mr. Dodsworth reported to Dr. Pusey that —
Lord John has written to Ambrose Phillips about the visit
ing, etc., and as yet has had no answer. The difficulty you
contemplate will, I think, be got over by schools. I am going to
hire a room in their part of my parish, where they may train some
of our most destitute children, and where also they may occa
sionally take poor persons to instruct them apart from the
distractions of their own homes.
Lord John Manners, writing on April 24, as regarded
the time to be spent in active work, sent the following
extract ' from a letter of Ambrose Phillips received this
morning.' I do not think in our nunneries that the period in each day for
active work is so long as six consecutive hours, which you mention
as stated in Bishop Wiseman's rules. I consulted Dr. Gentili
about this, and he said it meant that that number of hours out of
every twenty-four should be given up to visiting the sick, instructing,
etc., but that consecutively it would be too much for any woman.
T

274 SUSPICIONS AMONGST THE POOR.
Dr. Pusey' had confidently looked for a warm welcome
to the Sisters amongst the poor, to whose service they
were devoted, but, Mr. Dodsworth wrote : —
An unexpected trial has come upon us in the sort of excitement
which our Sisterhood has produced amongst the poor.
I think I told you some time ago of a falling off in their
attendance at church ; this has recently become still more marked,
and from the inquiries I have made I have no doubt that con
siderable alarm exists amongst them. They do not know what to
make of the Sisters, and suspect them of being disguised Roman
Catholics. . . . The result is that the usefulness of the Sisterhood
is greatly threatened, the poor are regarding them with suspicion
instead of love and veneration. Much, I think, is to be attributed
to the peculiar dress. Here, perhaps, we have been wanting in due
consideration to people's prejudices. ... I think it worthy of
consideration whether we had not better at once put them into a
more ordinary dress, out of doors, such as black and white or
coloured shawls. Pray tell me what you think of this.
Nothing has ever been simply restored, and so we never can
have nuns again ; though we may have something resembling them,
we cannot bring back mediaeval religion.
This difficulty I had not looked for. Of course one did for
opposition from the rich ; but that the poor should be alienated
from us by what is specially designed for their benefit and blessing
is grievous indeed and disappointing. It seems almost as if a
blight were upon us.
Again a few days later he writes : —
I would not at once alter, all their dresses, but it strikes me
that it would be desirable for two or three of them to put on black
and white winter shawls such as other modest people wear, which
would break the uniformity, which our people are unused to. . . .
We must trust to their winning on the affections ofthe poor in due
time. Surely under God's blessing this must be the result. Only
let us do all we can to soften prejudices.
I should not think (he writes later) of letting the poor know

1845J DIFFICULTIES. 275
that any change was adopted for the sake of conciliation. Of
course we do put ' a bold face ' upon it with them, so far as we
can get at their feelings, or their folly and sin. But you know the
strength of such alarms. I did not mean that they originated with
the poor ; but, alas, there are plenty of emissaries, dissenters and
others, who would be too glad to excite suspicion of us.
Dividing them in their walk has prevented observation. ... I
would not have one essential point given up.
There were also, of course, difficulties among the Sisters.
Mr. Dodsworth told Dr. Pusey that he thought it was not
without danger for them ' to be brought from spheres such
as theirs had been, and to find themselves at once the
objects of devoted service from such as you.' He also
feared Dr. Pusey's over tenderness in being too ready to
relax rules.
No doubt (he wrote) it is difficult to keep up the amount of
labour ; but then we must remember that they have devoted them
selves to a painful life. Nothing would seem more injurious to
themselves or more fatal to the institution than that they should
make a profession and not act up to it, allowing for the measures
of human infirmity. . . . Unless there is something of painful
labour, theirs is, in many respects of worldly comfort, a life much
to be preferred to that of a governess, and which many might
covet for its comfort — so we might lead them into a great snare.
I wish you could see what a great point is gained in the
establishment of such a Sisterhood, and be content to wait for
more till better times. I am sure this would be good for them.
That they think of themselves 'very much as nuns' I never
doubted ; this is what I rather regret to see. I wish that they
could think less of what they seem to be, and let this gradually
grow out of the reality. I do not mean that there is more than
we might naturally expect of this tendency, but surely it is wise to
repress it, and to lead them to think little of themselves and their
ways.

276 MR. KEBLE'S FEARS.
The same thought seems to have occurred to Mr. Keble,
for he wrote to Dr. Pusey : —
Bude, Cornwall, August 28, 1845.
. . . The other day Dodsworth was so good as to lend
me the rules of the Sisterhood in London, and we, i.e. I and my
wife, were deeply interested by them. ... It strikes me that there
is a particular danger incident to persons situated as those Sisters
are among us, viz. that being so very few, and among persons so
deeply interested for them and their undertaking, they may very
easily think too much of themselves and be made too much of,
and I could fancy that it might be necessary to do some violence
to ourselves in order not to flatter them unconsciously. On this,
as on other accounts, I wish I could hear of their number
increasing. As to the use of parts of the Breviary in the Home,
Dr. Pusey informed one of its distinguished lay-supporters
that he knew of no resource in providing for frequent
offices,
— but to go to the same source from which our English Prayer-
book is taken, and to give them such devotions as we felt sure we
could ourselves use in the Bishop's presence. . . . There is nothing
but what is framed on the Service of the Church of England ; there
is no passage read from a Father which I could not myself preach in
a sermon before the Bishop, nor any prayer which the Bishop himself
might not use.
Mr. Dodsworth, however, thought that though the Bishop
could not object to the extracts used, he might yet fear
them (as practically bringing the Breviary into use) ; and on
this ground he objected to instalments of it being used,
since the understanding with their lay-friends 'was that
the whole institution should be open to the Bishop.'

I84S-1 USE OF THE BREVIARY. 277
However, a few days later he wrote : —
I fear it is my ignorance of the right method of using the
Breviary services which has occasioned any misunderstanding on
the subject. . . . But I do certainly think that the Bishop would
object to our giving the Breviary itself, so far as it can be used by
us. This I am sure will seem to you very sad, especially that
anything should be accepted from our hands, and refused as from
such high authority. But then we must remember that we are
under Bishops to whom we owe obedience, however irksome the
course prescribed to us may be.
One of Dr. Pusey's strongest wishes was to try and
provide, in the English communion, for the devotional
aspirations which, beginning in the great leaders of renewed
faith and fervour, was so marked a characteristic of their
early followers ; and in his anxiety that they should not
be deprived of the use of parts of the Breviary — that
wonderful ' repertory of Christian devotion and Christian
poetry for fourteen hundred years ' — he thought it possible
that the Sisters under his care in the Home might be
allowed to say the Breviary matins without others being
required to join them.
I could not be a consenting party to a separate matin service
for your Sisters (Mr. Dodsworth replied to this proposal). Besides,
what might this lead to? Others may come who may choose
other confessors, Manning, e.g., etc., and so we should have
disunion and confusion.
The first beginnings of a great work are always worthy
of notice, and the above details have been given, even
though some may seem trivial, knowing that they will
interest many who are well acquainted with the present
constitution of Sisterhoods and their immense works.
It should be clearly understood that to Dr. Pusey the

278 THE REAL FOUNDER.
Anglican communion chiefly owes their restoration, the
rather because it has been very generally believed that a
Sisterhood founded some years later at Devonport was the
beginning of such Communities amongst us. One of the
early Sisters at Park Village told the writer that she
remembered the first Devonport superior coming there
as a girl, in secular dress, ' to see what a Sisterhood was
like.' In a letter to Mr. Keble (September, 1864), Dr. Pusey
himself says : —
I am not sure from what you kindly write . . . whether you
do not think that I have some office as to the Devonport Society.
I was spiritual superintendent in Park Village, because it was my
work ... as Clewer was Carter's ; Wantage, Butler's ; or All
Saints', Richards'. ... At Devonport I have never had any
office. These words distinctly disdain any responsibility for
the management of the Devonport or of any other Sister
hood except the first in the English communion since the
Reformation, which he founded.
And so, through many troubles, many disappointments,
many mistakes, the little seed-plant took root, and spread
and increased, early hindrances vanishing, fresh vigour
gained by frosts and storms. It caused an immense
increase of work to Dr. Pusey, especially through his
anxious care for those who found themselves suddenly
placed under wholly new and untried conditions, amid
which teachers and taught had to make the best of
their way. His letters to one of the Sisters exhibit a
wonderful patience in considering everything that might
bear on welfare either of body or mind. ' The Mother

I84S-1 LASTING ACHIEVEMENTS. 279
tells me,' he wrote to her in 1847, 'that you wish to see
Mr.  , and that you cannot get from me what you want.
Tell me what you wish to ask, and I will, by God's help,
write or see you very soon. I might be brought up next
week ; if not, I would write.' The debt cannot be estimated
which later religious communities owe to such care bestowed
upon the first. The Sister to whom the above was written
responded generously to its gentle forbearance with girlish
waywardness, and still continues, in old age, the life of
devoted service to which she gave herself.
It has been remarked that most of the solid and lasting
fruits of the Oxford Movement were 'the outcome of
Dr. Pusey's large conceptions and constructive force of
mind ; ' and that, ' even where other men achieved more
brilliant results, his had very often been the inspiration.'
Never was this more true than of his work at this time.
To him and his first band of workers belongs the honour
of founding the first home of Anglican Sisters of Charity,
and of bringing the poor and their best friends together,
while opening to women a possibility of develop
ment for dispositions and longings which had hitherto
languished. From this infant community Miss Nightingale chose
some of tne best in the band of nurses taken by her to the
Crimea ; amongst them the superior, Miss Langston. In
1852 the Sisterhood moved into St. Saviour's Home,
Osnaburgh Street, built (the first house for an Anglican
Community) by one of the Sisters.1
1 'Sister Clara' [Miss Powell, of Foxlease, New Forest], now the senior
Sister in the English communion, and, after fifty-three years of service,
still working at Ascot Priory Convalescent Hospital. Her father was Captain
in the ist Grenadier Guards. St. Saviour's, Osnaburgh Street, is now

280 SISTERS AT ASCOT PRIORY.
The present venerable and beloved Superior of the
Community at Ascot Priory1 joined the little band at
Park Village in 1847, a few months later than Sister Clara ;
and, having remained faithful to her vocation, was amongst
those who knelt by Dr. Pusey's death-bed when, at Ascot
Hermitage, he passed to his rest.
occupied by the All Saints' Sisters, to whom it was given in 1892 by Mr.
Edward Palmer. He had bought it from the Ascot community in 1877, and
it was used for some time by his wife as a Cancer Hospital. Ascot Priory,
where those who remain of the first Sisters are established, was not begun
until 1 86 1.
1 The Hon. Georgina Napier, sister of the late Lord Napier and Ettrick,

CHAPTER XV.
THE THREEFOLD CORD BROKEN.
1845.
They parted —
They stood aloof, the scars remaining
Like cliffs which had been rent asunder ;
But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,
Shall wholly do away, I ween,
The marks of that which once hath been.
Coleridge.
The silence which had fallen between Dr. Pusey and
Mr. Newman on subjects and schemes concerning which
the latter would once have been consulted at every step,
is marked by the absence of correspondence between them
on the opening of the first Sisterhood in the Anglican
Church since the Reformation.
Dr. Pusey had thought that there being no renewed
attack on Tract 90, after the Proctor had stopped the
proposed censure in February, would seem hopeful to
Newman, but he was far past being influenced by outward
events. ' Nothing that has happened,' he says in February,
1845, 'has made me go one way or the other from the
first (near six years).'
In the previous summer he had written from Littlemore
(July, 1844), 'I think of giving up my rooms at Oriel;'

282 ALTERED POSITIONS.
and two months later occurred the death, which so deeply
touched him, of his and Dr. Pusey's dear friend, Mr.
Bowden, over whose coffin, as he tells us, he sobbed, to
think that he was gone, leaving him still uncertain as
to his course. 'I think,' he wrote to Dr. Pusey a few
days after this loss, 'you do not put yourself enough in
my position, and consider how a person would view things,
and at the end of nearly five years.' A few days later,
writing of one who thought he could take Orders, accepting
the Articles in Mr. Ward's sense, he says, ' I certainly do
not think he can properly sign our articles — but he thinks
he can. He goes with Ward ; I cannot'
Every note was written evidently with real anguish in
causing pain to Dr. Pusey, and he caught at an occasion
of giving him a gleam of pleasure.
I think you will like me to transcribe you a passage from a
letter which has been shown me.
' I have got Pusey's letter. It affected me much. How differ
ently he speaks of those who are troubled at our Anglican state
from the generality of persons ; all those who are inclined to go
to Rome are generally treated so roughly as almost to drive them
over; as if such feelings belonged only to crack-brained young
men. I love him more than ever for his kindness.'
Also I have seen a letter from B. Smith, of Lincolnshire, who
speaks in such a pleasant way of the news of the Bishop of L.
having spoken kindly of him, and of some other things of the
kind, as to make it clear very few men would be unsettled, if we
had only sympathy, and were set to work}
Not all his real veneration for Newman for one moment
shook Dr. Pusey's convictions. Troubles might and did
1 This note is undated, and was probably written rather earlier than this
time.

I84S-1 DR. PUSEY UNMOVED. 283
deepen his own penitence, as, with Daniel of old, he
acknowledged the sin of his people as his own, and set
his face to the Lord God, to seek by prayer and supplica
tion with fasting.
' I am, indeed, in earnest that all my sorrows are the
fruits of my own sins, and all my chastisements so many
mercies,' he wrote to Mr. Keble ; and, in another letter : —
I am more ashamed than I can say when you so ask my
opinion, and take it as you did yesterday. ... I had been
thinking whether all this storm upon our Church was for me, and
whether I could do anything by way of humiliation or confession,
if this might mitigate it. I cannot but feel that I have reputation
far other than I deserve. Yet the storm seems to be circling
round others than me, which made me think it might not be so,
and that it was no indication for me, and I was to go on as I
have. ... I could not say all I would about your question.
I have good strong hope about our Church (unfit as I am to have
any), both from God's outward dealings with her, and from the
way in which He is awakening and deepening individual con
sciences, and again, that He is drawing not this person or that,
but leavening the whole. . . . All these large designs seem to me
to do a great deal of good. They seem a fruit of the Holy Spirit,
and tend, I hope, besides their immediate object, to bear people
above all the petty turmoils and strifes and little ends, and, as
being great efforts, I hope they make us more pleasing to God. . . .
Coleridge x seems to be going on with a full tide of success. But
I do very much deprecate misgiving language, such as D.'s, and
want of faith as to our Church. Surely, when God is so acting
upon people's minds, we may hope everything.
An undated letter to Dr. Hook must have been written
about this time : —
In what I say of N., I speak not from himself, but from
1 The Rev. Edward Coleridge, who was at the head of St. Augustine's
College, Canterbury, for training missionaries.

284 T)R. PUSEY'S ESTIMATE OF NEWMAN.
my own convictions, and those partly or chiefly arising from my
belief that he is very specially under the guidance of God, and
also that God will not allow one who has in so many respects the
marks of being an instrument in His hands to be lost to our
Church. I know him to be very despondent about our Church,
owing to all the manifestations of evil of late ; that he has a very
keen sense of heresy ; that things have for years past distressed
and do distress him exceedingly, but that his one object is to
know what is God's will, and to do it. I had been, until of late,
more sanguine that in the amended spiritual state of the Church
there would have been such tokens of God's Presence that people
could not doubt of it. But we have been under a heavy cloud for
some time : love has been waxing cold, and since that is the token
of His disciples, since ' He maketh men to be of one mind in an
house,' and ' a house divided against itself faileth,' how are we to
be surprised if any see not in us the tokens of a Church ? I can
not speak harshly of men who went into Dissent formerly, when
there was more earnestness in Dissent than among ourselves. I
cannot be surprised that people see not these tokens now, when
nothing is repudiated except the truth they hold, and if they
believe the Real Presence, they are told that they are Papists, and
had better be gone.
As I said, I cannot think the Roman Church all darkness, and
we all light; I see in them deep devotion for our Lord, and
burning zeal for God's glory, and so many fruits of the Spirit ;
and when we have so much darkness of many sorts around our
selves, I dare not apply i John ii. 19 to all who part from us.
We must have more tokens of His light and Presence before
leaving us can be such a proof of blindness, much less could I
of one whom I know to be one of the holiest of our Church's sons.
Were I to conceive of myself as divided off on the opposite side
from him, I should believe myself to be among the goats.1
He could not give up occasionally consulting Newman,
1 ' Pusey never let the separation from Newman be a real separation, and
would not understand it as one,' the Rev. T. T. Carter writes in a letter
of 1899.

I84S-] NEWMAN'S KEEN DISTRESS. 285
when the latter's altered mind would not interfere with
his judgment on certain points. On March 12 Newman
wrote to him : —
Persons in a state of grace have to pray concerning past sin in
a very different way from those who are not in a state of grace —
not that it may be forgiven unto justification, or, in popular
language, ' forgiven,' but that it may continue forgiven ; that we
may not fall from a state of grace ; that we may receive higher
measures of justification ; that the remaining consequences of sin,
temporal or moral, may be forgiven, etc.
 says, then, I suppose, she cannot pray to be admitted
into a state of grace (nor do I see that she is bound so to pray).
Can she pray that she may continue in a state of grace — that He
Who has ' pardoned all the past ' may give her perseverance, may
pardon it in the hour of death and in the day of judgment ? . . .
I have been thinking of you a good deal lately. Three
Sunday mornings I have been in Oxford, but have not had the
heart to call on you. I would I knew how least to give you pain
about what, I suppose, sooner or later will be. ... I suppose
Christmas cannot come again without a break up, though to what
extent or to whom I do not know. It is better to tell you this at
this season than to wait for a more joyful time.
All blessing be with you, my dear Pusey, prays
Your affectionate friend,
J. H. N.
Two days later he writes from Littlemore : —
The unsettlement I am causing has been for a long while
the one overpowering distress I have had. It is no wonder that
through last autumn it made me quite ill. It is as keen as a
sword in many ways, and at times has given me a literal heart
ache, which quite frightened me. But in proportion as my course
becomes clearer, this thought in some respects becomes more
bearable. And now what have I to say, but to express a trust that

286 APPROACHING SEPARATION.
where so much is at stake, Divine mercy would reveal to me,
unworthy clearly, what is His will about me, and what is not ?
Ever yours very affectionately,
J. H. N.
What you and others urge upon me, and what I feel myself,
the unsettlement of mind I should cause, would, I suppose, make it
a clear duty to state, as best I could, my reasons. As far as I see,
I shall resign my Fellowship by November.
Dr. Pusey turned the more, in his deep sadness, to Mr.
Keble :—
35, Grosvenor Square, Easter Friday [March 28], 1845.
... I hear that he is not at the Oriel election this
year. I did not expect it. It looks like an approaching parting.
I fear, whenever it is, the rent in our poor Church will be terrible ;
I cannot conceive where it will end, or how many we may not
lose. Those who have been won to holiness by his writings would
feel it unnatural not to follow him. So, since our rulers could not
use the instrument God gave into their hands, her very gain will
turn to loss. It makes one dizzy to think of it. For N. himself,
one can well imagine that He Who formed him as so special an
instrument, may will to employ him as a restorer of the Roman
Church. It too is quite powerless to meet its difficulties, and
some in it look to N. to give some new impulse in it. . . . They
who remain will have to think how the fragments may be gathered
up ; for I fear we shall lose much of what is most devotional and
deepest. And yet God is so working on people's inmost minds
within our Church . . . that we cannot think that there is nothing
in store for her. But she has a terrible crisis to go through.
God be with you, that you may guide us.
Ever yours affectionately,
E. B. P.
Again he writes (April 27) —
I should like to know what you think could best be done by
any in that terrible shock awaiting us. I am hoping that people

1 845-1 ADAPTED DEVOTIONS. 287
may come to think that he has a special mission and call, and so
that it may not be looked upon as an example to all who have
learnt of him ; but it will be, I fear, a most fearful rent, draining
our Church of so much of her strength.
Cardinal Newman has recorded that even as late as
the Commemoration of 1845 Dr. Pusey said of him to
a friend, ' I trust after all we shall keep him.' x But
this could only have been a passing gleam of hope. ' If
anything could be done to lessen that fearful blow you
speak of,' Mr. Keble wrote to him on April 30, 1845, f°ut
nothing special occurs to me. I am utterly perplexed and
bewildered when I think of it.'
The Long Vacation was again spent by Dr. Pusey
with his children at Ilfracombe, where he was much occu
pied in preparing for publication the translation of the
Paradisus Animoz Cliristiance, adapted for use in the
English communion. A great number of letters passed
between him and Mr. Keble on this subject, showing
markedly the extreme care and thought which both gave to
every passage or even word about which there was a doubt.
I know you will kindly go on giving me your opinion about
the Paradisus (Dr. Pusey writes from Ilfracombe, July 12, 1845).
My difficulty is still on the same subject. Since the Saints do
pray for us, we, it should seem, would be undergoing a loss if we
do not wish for their prayers. Then this wall between us and the
R. Cs can never be broken down unless we admit what we can
of their system. Then, too, I suppose, this indiscriminate way of
practically passing by whole doctrines, as the intercession of the
Saints, may be doing harm to our faith. Yet, of course, one
ought not to give our people what would necessarily be
misunderstood. 1 Apologia (ed. 1873), p. 225.

288 LAST STRANDS BROKEN.
But the uppermost thought in the friends' minds was
concerning the coming separation — the breaking of that
threefold cord which had bound great hearts not less
tenderly than strongly. Dr. Pusey consulted Newman
about passages in the Paradisus. He replies : —
Littlemore, July 22, 1845.
I have myself 'felt that such passages as you point out
cannot be recommended by members of our Church. The
question is not about their abstract propriety, i.e. non-contrariety
to our Articles, but they are novel; and so very momentous a
novelty cannot, I think, consistently be introduced except with
the sanction of authority. I do not recollect that I have ever
thought differently from this. What strong bits occur in my
' Sermons for the Day ' do not amount all together to above half a
page, and were added on publication, after I had given up St.
Mary's, with a view that people should be prepared for what was
likely to happen.
In this letter he entirely rejects the notion of his case
being an exceptional one as regarded his approaching
change. Very unwilling indeed am I and distressed that they should
act because I act ; but if it is right for me it is right for others. It
is no special dispensation with me certainly.
Mr. Keble had written (June 20, 1845), mentioning to
Dr. Pusey a thought which, he says, had occurred to
Manning and others, ' whether what we are waiting for
would not be in some small degree modified if N. were
to go to Rome, and there make the move instead of here,'
hoping it would have perhaps less effect in checking

I34S-I SUGGESTION TO NEWMAN. 289
growth in the English communion. It is very character
istic of Mr. Keble that he adds : —
I am with them, as far as I can judge, in wishing that it might
be somewhere at a distance, but I hardly know what to say to
Rome. It seems to me that, in his place, I should feel as if
going there for such a purpose was making the step as public and
important as possible. . . . One's feeling, I seem to guess, would
be to find some very good, retired, holy priest, in the Tyrol, or
Upper Germany, or Lombardy, and put one's self under his
wing. But, of course, this is very ignorant talking; but I write
to know what you think of the matter ; and, if you think well,
will you communicate with N. on it, using my name, if you think
best, as concurring with you ?
E. B. P. to Rev. J. Keble.
Ilfracombe, July 8, 1845.
My dear Keble, — I had an opportunity almost immediately
of speaking to N. on the subject of your note. . . . He said . . .
that he had thought of it almost unceasingly, but that the diffi
culty with him was, that the only ground why people were
anxious for him not to join the Roman Church here, was to veil
his only ground for joining the Roman communion, viz. the
conviction that we are in schism ; that, by joining elsewhere, he
should be encouraging what he felt to be wrong principles, as if
people might join Rome from preference, or taste, or feeling, or
[on] any other ground than the only right ground, the conviction,
if any were so convinced, that our Church being in a schismatic
state, it was unsafe for him, with this conviction, to remain in
her. I did not know what to say in answer. I had heard some
rumour of his going abroad, and so had hoped that he would
have transferred himself, as it were, to some other part of the
vineyard, not taking part against us (as, I fear, he must by his
very presence here, if not with us), but simply leaving us to the
mercy of God, himself not abiding with us, as not considering
himself safe here. If he should be sent back here, that, I thought,
U

29O FEARS AND PERPLEXITIES.
would be a different thing. I hinted this to him, but he said,
with much feeling, ' I did not think any would ask this of me,'
so I said no more. . . . People have been very anxious that you
should in some way do something to cheer and reassure people at
such a time as this. They are so discouraged that it would seem
as if some would join Rome out of mere hopelessness. They
resign themselves as by a sort of fascination, as though it must
be sooner or later ; ' why then not at once ? and so the step
would be taken and all suspense at an end.'
I have myself looked upon this of dear N. as a mysterious
dispensation, as though (if it be indeed so) Almighty God was
drawing him, as a chosen instrument for some office in the Roman
Church (although he himself goes, of course, not as a reformer,
but as a simple act of faith) ... at least, I have come into this
way of thinking since I have realized to myself that it was likely
to be thus. But others who look at a distance think it is only
the beginning for us all; that N. is only in advance; and so
some despond of our Church, others are tempted to despair of
our principles, as though they would never hold.
It would be a great gain if people would, at least, be calmer
for the present ; for while they multiply these fears to themselves,
they are incapacitating themselves from judging or acting aright;
and so, while the storm is upon us, are looking in dismay at one
another, instead of giving themselves each with double earnest
ness to his own work.
After mentioning a suggestion of Sergeant Bellasis
that the ' Evangelicals ' might be asked in this crisis to
cease from strife and ' work with us for the good of the
Anglican Church,' and that others ' thought a letter from
Mr. Keble, speaking of his attachment to the Church of
England, would do much to settle many people,' Dr.
Pusey adds—
You must be the best judge; but as Almighty God, amid
these varied troubles, does seem to have a great work of mercy

1845.] BITTERNESS AND GENTLENESS. 29 1
still in store for our Church, it seems a special time now, for all
who can, to do something for her in her distress. You will be
pleased to hear that the little Sisterhood is going on very nicely.
It is remarkable that at no time was Dr. Pusey's
attitude more devoid of bitterness towards the Roman
communion than when his heart was wrung at the thought
of his friend passing over to it. He writes to Archdeacon
Manning, July 29, 1845 : —
Thank you for your Charge. While it is in a cheering tone,
is there quite love enough for the Roman Church ? ' If one
member suffer,' etc. . . . We are so far worse off than our neigh
bours if we suffer both ways ; [if we] cannot by the vitality of the
Church retain many who are good, or turn bad into good. How
ever, you do put forth strongly that we are sick ; and what you
say of chastenings must do good. I only desiderate more love
for Rome. When the battle with infidelity and rebellion comes,
we must be on the same side.
Of the two friends, it was the qne who wrote fiercely
against the Roman communion who joined it ; while he
who pleaded for more love to Rome remained steadfast
under hardest trials — reproached, slandered, proscribed —
in the English branch of the Church. Of the sinfulness
of bitterness against any part of the Church, or against
any individual, he ever spoke strongly, and of the injury
which it diffuses in the moral and spiritual atmosphere.
' I suppose,' a clergyman wrote to him at this time, ' that
it is lawful to lose one's thoughts of a particular Church
in one's thoughts of the whole Body;' and though Dr.
Pusey firmly believed that devotion to the communion in
which he had been placed would best advantage the whole
Body, he also realized too vividly that, ' We being many are

292 THE ROMAN AND ENGLISH COMMUNIONS.
One Body, for we are all partakers of the One Bread,1 not
to be filled with love towards every part of the Catholic
Church. He was also at this time feeling strongly the
great debt which we and the Greek communion owe to
Rome, in the devotional writings of the numberless saints
trained by her. ' I believe in the Holy Catholic Church '
(not in any one branch of it) was to him a reality. But, as
Dr. Liddon has truly said —
It was precisely because Pusey had no misgivings respecting the
claims of the Church of England that he did not cherish the
fierce feelings or use the fierce language towards Rome which
more respectable divines than the Puritans have sometimes deemed
a necessary feature of Anglican loyalty.1
It was like him that, while writing so strongly to Mr.
Keble of his faith in the Anglican communion, he took the
opportunity of a letter from his old friend, Mr. B. Harrison,
the Archbishop's chaplain, suggesting some anti-Roman
utterance, to put the other side strongly forth in his reply
(September 16, 1845) — probably knowing that it would
pass to the Archbishop ; and dwelling on the many causes
of distress and unsettlement here. Amongst these he
mentions : —
The plague of division following us everywhere, the direct and
unrebuked denial of fundamental truths of the faith, the toleration
of all heresy, while truth has been impugned by different authori
ties in the Church, and no one protested against it, our fraternizing
with Protestants, . . . our proud contempt for everybody except
ourselves, and the hatred of Rome so general among us.
In the same letter he writes : —
I ought to say that I can only take the positive ground of love
and duty to our own Church as an instrument of God for man's
1 Life, ii. p. 454.

I84S-1 THE SEVERANCE. 293
salvation, in which He is present, and gives us the gifts of life,
His Body and Blood, and all which is needful to salvation — as
descended from that Church which He planted here to save souls.
I cannot any more take the negative ground against Rome. I
can only remain neutral, . . . and whether you think it right or
wrong, I am sure it is of no use to persons who are really in any
risk of leaving us. . . . The most effectual way to relieve them I
have found, in combination with our succession, is to point out
how God has owned and is owning our Church, His good provi
dence over her, His gifts in her, the life He is giving her. These
encourage people and give them heart.
The severance which came at last can only be told in
Newman's own words.
Rev. J. H. Newman to E. B. P.
Littlemore, August 22, 1845.
My dear Pusey, — I do not like this day to pass without send
ing you a line to show my remembrance of it, though I have
nothing else to say. May you have, as you will have, a succession
of them, increasing, as the year comes round, in usefulness and
all good, till you have finished God's work upon earth as far as
it is committed to you, and have no reason for remaining. He
surely is working through you and others in His Own way, and
will bring out all things happily at last. . . .
How quick the season is going. I am glad Charles Marriott is
with you. My love to him and to the children, and believe me,
Ever yours, my dear Pusey,
Most affectionately,
J. H. N.
P.S. — St. John and Dalgairns both send their best and kindest
remembrances of the day. Littlemore, September 28, 1845.
My dearest Pusey, — No time is the right time to tell what
you will feel to be painful news. But I must not delay to tell
you.

294 THE GREAT LOSS.
Dalgairns left us yesterday. His father and mother come into
Oxford in a few days, and he thought it best that it should be
over before he saw them. ... Of course what he has wished has
been to do what was lightest for them. Ever yours affectionately, J. H. N.
Littlemore, October 3, 1845.
My dear Pusey, — I have written to the Provost to-day to
resign my Fellowship. Any thing may happen to me now any
day. Anyhow, believe me, my dear Pusey,
Yours most affectionately ever,
J. H. N.
On October 9 he was received into the Roman com
munion. A long letter from Dr. Pusey appeared in the
English Churchman of October 16, from which the follow
ing extracts are given, as they embody his own thoughts
and feelings on the event.
The first pang came to me years ago, when I had no other
fear, but heard that he was prayed for by name in so many
churches and religious houses on the Continent. The fear was
suggested to me, ' if they pray so earnestly for this object, that
he may soon be an instrument of God's glory among them, while
among us there is so much indifference, and in part dislike, may
it not be that their prayers may be heard, that God will give
them whom they pray for — we forfeit whom we desire not to
retain?' . . .
In my deepest sorrow at the distant anticipation of our loss, I
was told of the saying of one of their most eminent historians, who
owned that they were entirely unequal to meet the evils with
which they were beset, that nothing could meet them but some
movement which should infuse new life into their Church, and
that for this he looked to one man, and that one N. I cannot
say what a ray of comfort darted into my mind. It made me at

1845-1 LETTER TO THE 'ENGLISH CHURCHMAN' 2Q$
once realize more both that what I dreaded might be, and its end.
With us he was laid aside. . . . Our Church has not known how
to employ him. And, since this was so, it seemed as if a sharp
sword were lying in its scabbard, or hung up in the sanctuary,
because there was no one to wield it. ... I do not mean, of
course, that he felt this, or that it influenced him. I speak of it
only as a fact. He has gone, unconscious (as all great instruments
of God are) what he himself is. He has gone as a simple act of
duty, with no view for himself, placing himself entirely in God's
hands. And such are they whom God employs. He seems then
to me not so much gone from us as transplanted into another part
of the vineyard, where the full energies of his powerful mind can
be employed, which here they were not. . . . ' If one member
suffer, the other members suffer with it.' And so, in the increasing
health of one, others, too, will benefit. It is not as we would
have it, but God's will be done ! He brings about His Own' ends,
as, in His Sovereign wisdom, He sees to be best. ... It is
perhaps the greatest event which has happened since the com
munion of the Churches has been interrupted, that such an one,
so formed in our Church, and the work of God's Spirit as dwelling
within her, should be transplanted to theirs. If anything could
open their eyes to what is good in us, or soften in us any wrong
prejudices against them, it would be the presence of such an one,
nurtured and grown to such ripeness in our Church, and now
removed to theirs. If we have by our misdeeds (personal or
other) ' sold our brother,' God, we may trust, willeth thereby to
' preserve life.' . . . But while we go on humbled and the humbler,
surely neither need we be dejected. . . . For myself, I am even
now far more hopeful as to our Church than at any former period
— far more than when outwardly things seemed most prosperous.
It would seem as if God, in His mercy, let us now see more of
His inward workings, in order that in the tokens of His presence
with us we may take courage. He has not forsaken us, Who, in
fruits of holiness, in supernatural workings of His grace, in the
awakening of consciences, in His Own manifest acknowledgment
of the ' power of the keys,' as vested in our Church, shows Him
self more than ever present with us. . . . If any one thing has

296 LETTER TO THE 'ENGLISH CHURCHMAN'
impressed itself upon me during these last ten years, ... it has
been that the work which He has been carrying on is not with
individuals, but with the Church as a whole. The life has sprung
up in our Church, and through it. . . . Never was it so with any
body whom He purposed to leave. And so, amid whatever
mysterious dispensations of His providence, we may safely commit
ourselves and our work in good hope to Him Who hath loved us
hitherto. I believe I have not written to you since the thunderbolt fell
(Mr. Keble wrote, October 21, 1845), DUt I consider that I have
heard from you through the letter in the English Churchman, and
many thanks for the comfort it gave me in common with thousands
more.

Note. — Since this sheet passed through the press, Father
Neville has found, and most kindly forwarded, Dr. Pusey's note in
answer to one from Dr. Newman of October 9, telling him that
his life in the English communion was ended. The distinction of
feeling and expression is too characteristic and touching, in Dr.
Pusey's reply, to allow of its being omitted.
My dearest Newman, — You will pray the more for us, who are
left to struggle on alone in a stormy sea with the winds contrary —
altho', I trust, with His secret Presence — for us, both individually and
as a body, that we may be visibly, too, one fold under One Shepherd.
I could not wish this to be delayed, when I had heard that you
had ceased to communicate. I can only say, ' Tu autem, Domine,
miserere nobis.'
Ah, past and future is one intense mystery. God be with you
always, and remember me a sinner.
Ever yours most affectionately, E. B. P.
Oct. 10, 1845.

CHAPTER XVI.
ST. SAVIOUR'S CHURCH, LEEDS.
i845-
Quivi si vive, e gode del tesoro
Che s'acquisto piangendo nell' esilio
Di Babilon, ove lascib l'oro. Paradiso, c. xxiii.
All through 1 844 Dr. Pusey had given much thought to
the building and fittings of his church at Leeds, which was
approaching completion. Many anxious questions arose
concerning the whole scheme, of which the difficulties
were not lessened by Dr. Hook's forebodings, who wrote
that the exaggerations and falsehoods circulated were
extraordinary, adding, ' I really dread the consecration.
I think we shall require a troop of horse to keep order.'
Everything which would now find place in such a church
as a matter of course, was at that time likely to be con
sidered a dangerous novelty. Dr. Pusey had, as usual, to
bear the brunt of the battle for what has since been
.gained, although details of religious art were not in
his line.
He had also to nominate the first vicar for St. Saviour's,
and rejoiced greatly when, in August, 1844, the Rev. R

298 BISHOP LONGLEY 'S OBJECTIONS.
Ward accepted the post ; the more so since he had long
been known to Dr. Hook, and was entirely trusted by
him and Mr. Keble.
As the time for the consecration drew near, troubles
increased. The Bishop of Ripon, Dr. Longley, was
evidently not exempt from the popular alarm, and made
so many objections to designs which had been long
ago approved by him, that Dr. Pusey became quite out
of heart, writing to Dr. Hook, 'Everything that I touch
seems to go wrong.' Still, when Sir H. J. Fust's decision
against stone altars was given, in January, 1845, he wrote
to Mr. Benjamin Webb,1 his chief helper in questions of
details at St. Saviour's, that 'we must not be unduly
downcast with such wretched decisions. If they drive
people more into themselves to think more of the Eu
charistic Sacrifice we may gain by them.'
Bishop Longley consented to vest the patronage of
St. Saviour's in Dr. Pusey, Mr. William Pusey, Mr. Charles
Marriott, and Mr. Ward ; but still, as time went on,
nothing was done, and Dr. Pusey wrote to Dr. Hook, in
April, 1845, that his heart was 'quite sick with continued
anxieties day after day: a feather taken off would be a
relief ; ' that there was nothing but discouragement, and
that it discouraged ' others too that the wish to benefit
our Church should be thus met.'
I thank you very much for your kind, cheering note (he wrote
to Mr. Keble). I wish people could feel these outward dis
appointments, as about the symbols, less; I feel them only
through other people, as fearing how they will affect them, both
knowing that they are good for myself, and then dreading lest
I have done harm to others by attempting too much and failing.
1 Afterwards Vicar of St. Andrew's, Wells Street.

1845.I FIRST ' MISSION SERVICES: 299
At length Bishop Longley promised to consecrate the
church in October, 1845, and Dr. Pusey at once began to
consider how the occasion might be made profitable to
many. To Mr. Keble he wrote : —
I have been wishing to write to you about a plan at the
opening of St. Saviour's, Leeds, which, I hope, may have God's
blessing, and be the beginning of a larger plan for making and
receiving holy impressions. It is taken from the French ' Mis
sions.' To begin with, it was proposed to have a course of
sermons on very solemn subjects, two on each day, during the
Octave of the Consecration. ... It was wished that they should
be earnest sermons, appealing at the close in a more solemn way
than usual to people's consciences and affections, mingling love
with sternness. ... I hope that it might be a great blessing in
many ways ; both in itself, and as showing that what is now at
issue is not a question of forms and dresses. . . . Hook is very
earnest about it, and wished me to write in his name as well as
my own. ... If you can preach two sermons, it will be the
greatest kindness. . . . Thank you much for what you say about
the Sisterhood. I do trust that God's blessing is resting upon it.
He is giving it increase, I hope, for its number (four) is, according
to your wish, to be doubled by Christmas. The fifth comes
to-day, strongly recommended by Dr. Mill, a very interesting
person, aged twenty-two. They are not in the way to be spoiled ;
they are all very humble, and live together in so much love. It
is a very cheering token. Our young women are the flowers of
our Church, and show the presence of very much grace. . . .
The Superior is an invaluable person. Only Apostles' days have
yet been kept in the Sisterhood; I thought that, at all events,
they had better have the ordinary service well fixed in their
minds first before they took any additional festivals.
Indeed, please, you must help me (he wrote, September 19,
on receiving Mr. Keble's answer). I had written to the Bishop
about the plan, and he cordially sanctions it. I mentioned your

300 SORROWS INCREASING.
name among others whom I had applied to. He 'prays God
heartily to bless your efforts to convert and build up souls which
will then be made.' So that to give it up would be a disheartening
failure now. ... I do hope it will be useful both at the time and
hereafter, as a precedent for like efforts. We have not made half
enough use of preaching.
The consecration was to take place on October 28
(St. Simon's and St. Jude's Day). On October 9 Dr.
Newman was received into the Roman communion, so
that the greatest grief of Dr. Pusey's life (except his wife's
death) fell upon him in the midst of troubles about St.
Saviour's, when ' a feather taken off would be a relief,' and
anxious preparations for its future prosperity.
He at once offered to give up being present at the
consecration of his church ; but this offer Dr. Hook refused
to accept, writing that ' it would be ruin to us, as it would
be supposed that you were prohibited by the Bishop.'
And amidst every cloud he never lost sight of the guiding
star of his life — the duty of persevering work for God's
glory and the souls of men — expressing his certainty that
' things distressing around, so far from being any occasion
for not exerting ourselves in anything which we hope to
be for God's glory, seem the very reason why we should
the more.'
Writing about this time to the Rev. and Hon. Arthur
Perceval, thanking him for sympathy, he says, ' Life now,
as you must well know, is such a succession of heartaches
for our poor, rent Church and her children that a " God
bless you " comes very comforting to one.'
He went to Leeds with a heavy heart, the hope, from
which he had refused to part, finally crushed as to his

1845.] THE REV. UPTON RICHARDS. 301
dearest earthly friend and stay, and most of those who
came next in closeness of friendship and trust — Mr. Keble,
Mr. Marriott, and Mr. Isaac Williams — unable to accom
pany him. He wrote to his son on October 27, at six in
the morning : —
. . . You will perhaps have heard in part of my many
sorrows; they are thickening upon us. Week by week brings
some fresh sorrow ; there is no human help for it ; something
may be done now and then. I have been trying what I could
do, and this and the sermons I hope to preach at Leeds have
taken up all my time. . . .
I must break off, having been up all night, and having to set
off for Leeds soon. I write this line that you may know about
our services, and pray God to bless what we would wish to be for
His glory. The plate will, I hope, be presented on All Saints'
Day. May He ever bless you. Your affectionate father,
E. B. P.
I am not depressed myself. Things are in God's hands, and
so I feel like one who, if I live, am to go through a great deal of
pain, not knowing how things will end, but only saying, Thy Will
be done, Thy Will be done.
He arrived at Leeds to find Dr. Hook full of nervous
apprehensions, and to meet the great annoyance of
objections, at the last moment, from Bishop Longley, to
several things which had been passed by him when the
plans were laid before him, such as the cross over the
chancel screen. It was fortunate that he had at this time
the affectionate support of the Rev. W. Upton Richards,
the truest and warmest of friends, to whom he constantly
tu*rned for sympathy, counsel, and help in trouble, and
who had come to be with him at Leeds. Mr. Richards,

302 CONSECRATION OF ST. SAVIOUR'S.
long after, told the writer that he should never forget the
look of suffering on Dr. Pusey's face — the more striking
from its still and almost stern composure — when, even as
the clergy were forming in procession for the consecration,
the Bishop refused to use the Communion Plate offered by
Lucy Pusey on account of the inscription on the chalice.1
The consecration was completed without any tokens
of popular enmity, such as Dr. Hook had anticipated.2
He who had made this offering to God preached in the
evening, and a continued course of solemn sermons were
delivered at the many daily services during the Octave.
He was thus the first, as in the case of so many blessings
to the Church, to institute what is now common, a course
of Mission services and sermons with a special view to
arousing and edifying souls. Hardly can any course
preached since then have equalled the first for power, and
that depth of penitence and love in the chief preachers
which reaches other hearts. Dr. Pusey preached in the
evening of the consecration-day, and alluded to the church
being the offering of a penitent, to whom, he says, it was
a joy 'that his penitent love had called forth that of
others.' Probably no one guessed that he himself, blame
less from childhood, was the nameless penitent and founder
of the church. The sermons have been published : there
are nineteen in the volume, ten by Dr. Pusey ; of the
rest only two were preached by their writers, Mr. Upton
Richards and Mr. Dodsworth. The remaining seven were
1 The words objected to were * Propitius esto, Domine, Lucise,' etc.
2 Two hundred and sixty clergy in all were present. . . . The offertory
amounted to ^985. The Bishop himself was celebrant ; there were five
hundred communicants ; and the service, which had begun at half-past eleven,
did not conclude until after four o'clock. — Life, ii. p. 497.

1845-1 MISSION-WEEK AT LEEDS. 303
delivered by Dr. Pusey, one of them written by Mr. Keble,1
whose wife's illness prevented his being present. 'Thank
you very much for your sermon,' Dr. Pusey wrote to him
on receiving it, 'and for the good it ought to do me, as well
as others. It will probably be preached on Wednesday
evening ; so as you are not preaching it, you will the more
pray God to help us.'
You did much good at Leeds (he wrote after the consecration).
The sermons became a sort of ' retreat ' for people to think in
stillness over very solemn subjects. And yours impressed persons
much. It was a very blessed time. God's blessing seemed visibly
settled there. People came, day after day, to the three sermons
(mostly), listened very earnestly, and returned home with a
deepened sense of responsibility. This was expressed very
affectingly. It was a very cheering week. There seemed such
a much deeper spirit among the clergy, a greater sense of the
need of intercession.
There is a glow of fresh, fervent devotion in the letters
of those who took part in those services, which is very
striking. One of Dr. Pusey's most valued lay-friends
wrote to him, in November : —
I send you the fines which I mentioned in my happy journey
from Leeds. I only hope that it was not made so at your expense.
I may not venture to say what a blessing that good week was to
me there, what warnings, what comforts, what sympathies, what
instructions, came one after the other to help my future warfare.
I well know that it is to this unseen future that one must look to
see whether this is real or not, and so I earnestly again beg your
remembrance and prayers that to me and others may be given the
grace of perseverance unto the end ; deeper humility and patience
and penitence as our safeguards, and with these such visions of
our good God, such abiding in our Lord, such success in our
1 Dr. Liddon considers it ' the finest in the series.' — Life, ii. p. 497.

304 LETTER FROM REV. J. B. MOZLEY.
warfare as may be day by day a sufficient encouragement to our
hopes. . . . May I remain, Ever affectionately yours,
Arthur H. Dyke Acland.
' I am anxious to know about the Leeds movement,' Mr.
Keble wrote to Mr. James Mozley (November 4), ' more so
from something I have heard this evening, as though things
had fallen out rather to Pusey's discouragement.' Mr.
Mozley's reply must probably have been entirely reas
suring ; for to his sister he wrote (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 feeling 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 all 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 dreadfully nervous, and, in fact, one would suppose Pusey
was a lion, 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 consecrated. What was the greatest pity was, the sacramental
plate did not appear at the consecration. There was an inscription
on it that implied a prayer for the dead. It was, in fact, the gift
of Lucy Pusey, and her name was, I believe, 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 inscription. The
point is not determined. . . . Henry Wilberforce, who was there,
says he never saw Pusey come out so before.1
1 Letters of Rev. J. B. Mozley, p. 172.

1845.] LETTER TO A CHILD. 305
Amidst all pressure of work he found time to write to
a child of twelve in whom he was interested : —
Christ Church, November 15, 1845.
It has, indeed, been a great blessing to me to think
that God has been moving your heart. ... It is very good and
patient of Almighty God to vouchsafe so to struggle with the
heart of a little child, and strive to make it His own. And this
not by His great power, but drawing you by His love to desire to
love Him above all things Who is the joy of all who can love.
And what He wishes to give you is Himself, Who is all Bliss and
Beauty and Delight and Love. And for every little thing which
you will give up for Him He will give you more of Himself; and
so you would have more love, and then He would dwell more in
you. For He dwells in us through love ; and the more we obey
the more love He gives us ; and the more love He gives us the more
we can obey, and so have still more love. Is not this a blessed
interchange between God and the soul ? and all of His gift !
This, I hope, has begun in you ; but you must be very watchful,
within and without, not to hinder this blessed opening of your
heart for the inflow of God's grace and love. . . .
Seek that your first waking thought should be of God. It is
a very blessed practice that the first word pronounced by the lips
should be, very reverently, Jesus, but at all events let the first
thought be, thankfulness to God for His care of you through the
night, and to commend yourself to Him through the day.
May He keep you ever in His holy keeping. . . .
The week at St. Saviour's was a very blessed one, and, I hear,
by God's mercy, has been blessed to many souls.
The consecration of St. Saviour's is a notable land
mark in the story of Dr. Pusey's life. It is not, perhaps,
fanciful to think that that week of prayer, sacraments,
and instructions, was granted to prepare and strengthen
and consecrate him for the hard years which were coming.
The writer of the Preface to Volume III. of his ' Life '
x

306 BURDEN OF RESPONSIBILITY.
considers that the years from 1845 to 1858 were, as regards
the Church, ' the most important portion of his life ' —
'almost more important than the history of the Move
ment ' itself, Dean Church deems the record of these years.
He found himself in a new position — not only left
without the friend who had been as his own soul ; an
enormous weight of responsibility, correspondence, counsel,
suddenly cast upon him, in the task of refitting the storm-
tossed ship, but hampered on all sides by the effects of
that secession which seemed, for the moment, to justify
his opponents, while, to use Dr. Liddon's words, 'a vast
mass of obloquy and misunderstanding, taking every
shape that could wound a sensitive and affectionate nature,
fiercely bade him begone.'
The term of his suspension from preaching in the
University pulpit expired on June 2, 1845. He had
consulted Mr. Keble in the previous autumn as to the
subject of his sermon, should he 'live to have another
preaching term.' His own thought was to 'preach the
same doctrine over again . . . reaffirming the two doc
trines at which people rebel, the Real Presence by virtue
of the consecration, and the Eucharistic Sacrifice.'
On turning over in my mind every way the case you put to
me (Mr. Keble replied, November 19, 1844), what you should do
when the two years are over, I cannot see that anything would be
better than to go on in what might be called a natural way, i.e. to
take up the subject where you left it off, recapitulate it, as you
naturally would do at such a distance of time, and, in so doing,
of course reassert the two great doctrines of the Sacrifice and
Real Presence. This will give them an opportunity, if they think
proper, of renewing their censure, yet without undue controversy
or challenge on your part. And if they do not take it up, it will

1846.] FIRST SERMON AFTER SUSPENSION. 307
be equivalent to allowing the substance of what they before tried
to silence. Certainly it would be a great point gained (Dr. Pusey wrote,
April 11, 1845) if one could reaffirm the doctrine uncensured. I
would show you the sermon beforehand. Or would you think it
best to go on with my course on Comforts for the Penitent ? Only,
the subject I wished next to come to — the ' Power of the Keys ' —
I wished to leave for full Term.
On February 1, 1846, he stood once more in the pulpit
of Christ Church Cathedral. The account of the scene
must be given in Dr. Liddon's words, himself probably an
eye-witness. At that time a solid organ screen . . . cut off the real choir
of the church from the transepts and truncated nave, and left a
much smaller area within which it was possible to hear a sermon.
Nevertheless, the choir thus shut off from the pulpit was crowded
from end to end ; the organ loft looked as though it might give
way, such was the mass of undergraduates who had got into it ;
even the triforium had been invaded by eager listeners. Every
inch on the floor of the church was occupied. ' Dr. Pusey,' writes
an eye-witness, ' had to move slowly through the dense mass on
his way to the corner of the cathedral where the Vice-Chancellor
and Doctors assemble, visible to nobody but those immediately
along the line he had to pass; his perfectly pallid, furrowed,
mortified face looking almost like jagged marble, immovably
serene withal, and with eyes fixed in deep humility on the ground,
formed a curious contrast with the thick, expectant crowd, which
the beadles moved aside for him.' x The procession of Heads was
obliged to pass straight from the transept to their seats, instead of
following their accustomed course down the south aisle and then
up the nave. When he reached the pulpit, Pusey, as usual, knelt
in prayer, disappearing from sight until the conclusion of the
hymn. The sermon lasted for a little more than an hour and a
1 Letter from Rev. J. B. Mozley in Guardian of February 4, 1846.

308 DR. PUSEYS PREACHING.
half, and was listened to with perfect stillness until the Blessing
was pronounced. His voice showed no signs of nervousness;
from first to last it was perfectly clear, even, and strong.
Of his power in the pulpit Dr. Liddon says —
He had no pliancy of voice, no command over accent, or
time, or tone; he did not relieve or assist the attention of his
audience by a change of pace, from fast to slow ... or by
looking off his pages ; his eye was throughout fixed on the manu
script before him, and his utterance was one strong, unbroken,
intense, monotonous swing, which went on with something like
the vibrations of a deep bell. Nor did Pusey's method or matter
supply the defects — if defects they were — of his manner as a
preacher. Masses of learning . . . were only relieved by long,
reiterated exhortation, to which fancy, or invective, or anecdote,
rarely contributed any such element as could modify the reign of
a stern monotony. Yet men, old and young, listened to him for
an hour and a half in breathless attention; because his moral
power was such as to enable him to dispense with the lower
elements of oratorical attraction. ... As J. B. Mozley said,
Pusey seemed to inhabit his sentences. Each sentence was
instinct with his whole intense purpose of love, as he struggled
to bring others into communion with the truth and Person of
Him Who purified his own soul ; and this attribute of profound
reality which characterized his discourse from first to last. ... at
once fascinated and awed the minds of men, and, whether they
yielded their convictions to the preacher or not, at least exacted
from them the homage of a sustained and hushed attention.1
'The Power of the Keys' was the subject of this
sermon, the second of a series projected on ' Comforts to
the Penitent,' of which the condemned sermon had been
the first.
His text was St. John xx. 21-23. Before considering
it, he gave a brief summary ' in a few well-chosen words
x Life, iii. pp. 59, 60.

1846.] UNASSAILABLE POSITION. 309
of the condemned sermon, which reasserted to the very
full its doctrinal position.' But, warned by Dr. Jelf, while
exactly restating the doctrine, he did so 'partly in the
words of the Communion Service, partly in those of
Bishop Wilson's 'Sacra Privata.' 'Take care how you
do it,' his friend had said to him when he mentioned his
intention of reaffirming Eucharistic doctrine, 'because if
they suspend you a second time, it will be in perpetuity.
They care nothing about the Fathers ; you had better use
the language of English divines.'
He had written to Mr. Keble on January 20, that his
grounds for taking Absolution as the subject of his
sermon were —
(1) That it was the natural subject; that which came next
in my series, ' the Power of the Keys.' (2) It seemed, for any
doctrinal subject, the most unassailable, for all our formularies
are in our favour ; there is nothing against it ; nothing, I thought,
upon which a question could be raised.
The event proved that he was right in trusting to the
strength of his position. However unwelcome his sermon
might be to the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Symons, and his
friends, they were acute enough to perceive that there was
no point in the sermon open to attack.
I have just come from Pusey's sermon (Mr. J. B. Mozley
wrote). It was very grand, intense, and impressive, and went on
with a great swing, as Pusey's sermons do. . . . The subject was
' Confession and the Power of the Keys.' He had such a huge
weight of Church authority with him, that he seemed to occupy
the whole ground, and possess the building 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.
. . . But that it will create great disgust I have no doubt. . . .

3IO DANGER OF AN HERETICAL SUCCESSION.
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 satisfaction at having
silenced his silencers so effectually might a little mingle with his
feelings.1 I have hardly yet thanked you, as I ought, for all your kind
pains about my sermons (Dr. Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble, Feb
ruary 22, 1846). All were of use to me. This escape has been a
great and undeserved mercy, and, I trust, has helped to quiet
minds. Dr. Pusey spent Easter of 1846 at Clifton, to be near
his little daughter, and wrote from thence in much distress
to Mr. Gladstone on April 9, concerning the nomination
of Mr. Gobat to succeed the so-called 'Bishop of Jeru
salem,' Dr. Alexander, who died on November 25, 1845.
It had been agreed between England and Prussia that
each should alternately nominate to this vague office, and
it fell to the Prussian government to do so on this occa
sion. Mr. Gobat had been a Lutheran pastor of very
doubtful orthodoxy, but had received Deacon's Orders in
England. Yet what Dr. Pusey deemed unfitness for the
Episcopal office was not the chief cause of his distress.
What a misery it would be (he wrote to Mr. Gladstone) if the
ultimate object of the Prussian Government were attained, and
they were to receive Episcopacy from us and we were to become
the authors of an heretical successic .1. I should think it would
split the English Church at once ; it would put one, if one lived
to see it, in a most distressing position. To be alive to heresy is
a mark of full soundness of faith. To give Episcopacy to Prussia
now, or even to prepare for it, is like arraying a corpse or
whitening a sepulchre. 1 Letters of Rev. J. B. Mozley, pp. 175, 176.

1846.] STRAIN OF WORK. 3 II
Had Dr. Pusey lived, what he so strongly deprecated
would probably never have taken place ; his influence in
England would have prevented the consecration of Cabrera
as bishop of an heretical Spanish sect by the late Arch
bishop Plunket in 1 894. But the voice which would have
been so powerful against his action was then silent in the
grave. He took his children to Tenby, in South Wales, for
the Long Vacation of 1846, after spending a few days
with his mother in Grosvenor Square. Here he became
very seriously ill. He had thoroughly overworked him
self; and, since the Sisterhood began, his visits to his
mother were perhaps times of still greater strain than
when at Oxford. Besides anxious superintendence of the
little community, he was wont to see persons there who,
in rapidly increasing numbers, resorted to him for counsel
and help. He kept them all in his great heart, and made
time to write fully, as was his custom, to individual cases.
One such letter the owner kindly allows to be given.
Never mind feeling and thoughts. The less notice you take
of them the better. It would be much better, of course, to be
full of zeal, to have no tiredness, to spring up with the thought
that you are to receive Jesus. But our Lord told the Apostles,
' the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.' I suppose
the feeling comes to this : ' I am so tired this morning ' (or, ' it is
so cold,' or whatever the cause may be which indisposes you to
move), ' I wish H. C. were to-morrow.' Or, ' I wish it were not
so cold.' This is not indifference. It is not the fire of love
which would say, ' My Lord is coming to me, let me not lose a
moment in preparing to receive Him ; ' still, it is sluggishness, not
sin. Tell our Lord that you are ashamed of yourself, that you
have counted His infinite condescension in coming to you and

3 1 2 WORK IN LONDON.
giving Himself to you as a common thing, that you have made
a wrong use of His making it so easy to you ; ask Him to fill you
with shame, but not to let you lose any portion of the grace, It
may be, if you go to Him, ashamed, He may give you larger
grace. All depends upon the acts in which the feelings issue.
You remember the lines —
Faith's meanest deed more favour bears,
Where hearts and wills are weighed,
Than brightest transports, choicest prayers,
Which bloom their hour and fade.
So don't mind whether you seem ' not to care.' If you did not
really ' care ' you would not trouble yourself whether you ' cared '
or no. To fear that one does not love enough (of course one
does not) shows that one does love. Only pray and act.
Lady Lucy wrote to Lady Emily of his visit to her : —
Excepting the Sunday when he dined at Mr. Dodsworth's,
he did not have his dinner till between nine and ten o'clock at
night. He was some days out of the house by six o'clock in the
morning ; always between seven and eight.
Soon after he left London he wrote a long letter to
Mr. Newman, dated Tenby, July 12, 1846, in which he
says : —
I did not write sooner, partly because I have been much over
worked for a long time, till now, when I am told to recruit ; partly
because I thought I could hardly write anything which would not
pain you. For you have one wish for me, and I am no nearer
that than heretofore. I cannot unmake myself; I cannot see
otherwise than I have seen these many years ; I have come to
think otherwise in some details ; but as [to] the one point upon
which all turns, I am no nearer to thinking that the English Church
is no true part of the Church, or that inter-communion with Rome
is essential, or that the present claims of Rome are Divine. . . .
You will be kindly glad to hear that poor Philip is going on
well in spirit, while in body more crippled, and with more disease.

1846.] ILLNESS AT TENBY. 313
He has, at last, given up, amid his increasing disorders, the one
wish of his heart, to enter Holy Orders, and has now, he says,
one only thing to live for, that God's will should be fulfilled in
him, and his own will perfectly conformed to His. You will
remember him the more for this his wish.
My head is half in a whirl, with all the thoughts of the past, in
writing such a letter as this to you.
God be with you ever,
Your very affectionate friend,
E. B. P.
Such letters were not calculated to give him rest. The
strain on heart and head had been too long and severe to
pass without a breakdown. Some months later, writing
to Dr. Hook of the latter having risked his life for ' our
common mother, and for her children,' he says : —
I have in the last year. I felt before my illness that I had
been overworked. I was worn out; I laboured often night as
well as day ; I had not a feeling of health for more than a whole
year of toil and sorrow. I felt that I could not stand it. But
what could I do ? God brought me at that perilous crisis work
to do, often thankless. I cast away everything, so that I might,
by God's mercy, retain children of our Church within her.
Low fever, however, set in, and he became dangerously
ill. He wrote in pencil before he became so much worse
as to be unable to read or write letters : —
Tenby, July 30, 1846.
My dearest N., — I am very seriously ill, although not as yet
mortally. A low fever has settled in a weak part, the membranes
of the chest : it seems to increase, and my strength to diminish.
The physician does not think it will end fatally. You will pray
earnestly that God will have mercy upon my body and soul, and
spare a sinner, and give him true repentance.
Ever yours very affectionately,
E. B. P.

314 CONVALESCENCE.
His friend came to Tenby, thinking to see him for the
last time. After this interview they had no intercourse for
seven years, though their mutual affection was undiminished.
' I have many recollections of that time,' his daughter
writes, * and of reading the Psalms and Lessons to him,
and when he got better, of his sitting out on the rocks at
the bottom of the garden with Philip and me ; and, on his
birthday, of our all going over in a sailing-boat to some
islands, where a hermit had once lived.'
They left Tenby on September I, and spent two months
at Pusey, where ' almost daily ' rides with his brother,
Lady Emily, or their girls, and their tender care, promoted
his restoration. Not until September 27 does Lady Emily's
diary record his going to church, ' the first time since his
illness.' He was still at Pusey at the end of October ; but
his severe illness only led him to think what he could do
as to greater strictness and devotion of life.
On Advent Sunday he was able to take his turn as
University preacher ; his sermon lasting for an hour and
a quarter. At Clifton, where he spent the Christmas
holidays with his children, he preached at the parish
church on Christmas Day, and on the following Sunday
for the Rev. H. Richards, at Horfield church. A graphic
and striking account of this sermon, by one who was
present, which appeared in the Bristol Times, is in the
Guardian of February 3, 1847.
The incumbent and curate were officiating ; in a pew under
the pulpit, in a plain black gown, sat the man whose name is
known throughout the kingdom — arraigned on the platform of our
great cities, and pronounced with something like a supernatural
sense of dread by the smallest coteries of the remotest village —

1846.] SERMON AT HORFIELD. 315
one of no high or haughty bearing, however, with authority in his
eye, or commanding intellect enthroned on his brow, but, drooping
his head meekly on his breast, he seemed rather to shrink from
than challenge observation. Of all the simple people that crowded
that simple church, not one looked more humble or more uncon
scious of self, or of the stealthy or fixed glances which were
directed to him from time to time by the stray comers, some of
whom, I have little doubt, expected to see the celebrated Pusey
(an heresiarch in the eyes at least of half the Church) of some
fearful outline, differing from other men in his form and visage :
no horn or cloven hoof, however, protruded to reward their
curiosity. While the last psalm was being sung, the Professor left his
pew (no officious sexton leading the way) and ascended to the
pulpit, on the floor of which he knelt down in private prayer, his
upraised hands and grizzled thin hair being the only parts visible,
until the singing had concluded, when he rose and prayed in a
contrite and almost thrilling tone. Yet was there nothing affected
in all this; on the contrary, whatever Dr. Pusey's opinions or
doctrines may be, so far as man can judge of man, you would
have said his character was that of pious humility and self-
abasement. His text was taken from part of the sixth verse of the twenty-
first chapter of Revelation : ' And He said unto me, It is done.
I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End.' Never
before did I hear so beautifully evangelical a sermon as this from
the man who has given a name to a party which is supposed to
represent a different principle in the Church. It had but one
fault, it was fifteen minutes too long. Nevertheless, it was listened
to throughout by that little crowded church — full with fixed and
rapt attention, though it was neither declamatory, noisy, nor
eccentric ; but plaintive, solemn, and subdued, breathing through
out, I may say, a beauty of holiness, and a Christian spirit so
broad and Catholic, so deep and devotional, that while the most
zealous Protestant could find nothing in it he might not approve,
the most bigoted Roman Catholic could not enter an exception
to a single expression that it contained. I never recollect so

3l6 SERMON AT HORFIELD.
feelingly apposite a sermon for the close of the year, the very last
week of which was then lapsing beneath our feet — we seemed, as
it were, to look back with him from an eminence, in serious review
upon the transactions of the year, ere it had yet passed from our
sight, while ever and anon, in touching recurrence and solemn
effect, came the words, ' It is done,' which were every time with
some beautiful feature of novelty illustrated and enlarged upon.
He seemed, however, to love to dwell upon the sad and
melancholy; and his voice, though clear and distinct, had
something mournful, and at times almost wailing, about it. The
subject and the season, indeed, would seem to invite such a feeling ;
and at moments you could almost fancy you were hearing some
office for the departing year, at the close of which, as if in mournful
cadence, came the word (for in the language in which it is written
it is but one word), ' It is done.' There he stood, a plain, and to
all appearance, an humble and lowly man, preaching to a simple
people, and speaking with the melancholy meekness as of one
stricken and tried, yet uncomplaining. The very gloom of the
little church (for the four candles by which he had to read his
sermon, and which were hardly sufficient to cast a faint reflection
on the fixed countenances of the attentive listeners, were all the
light which parochial economy could afford) seemed in keeping ;
yet this plain, and apparently unpretending man, of mild manners
and of middle years and stature, who now preached a sermon
more perfectly free from controversy than ever I before heard,
had himself been foremost in the greatest controversy of the
age, so as to attract the eyes of the kingdom to his collegiate
retirement. ' Who be that that preached ? ' said one young rustic maiden
to another as we left the church; 'a monstrous nice man, but
dreadful long.'
' Don't you know ? ' replied the other ; ' it is that Mr. Pewdsey,
who is such a friend to the Pope ; but come along, or we'll be
late for tea.' And away they trotted.

CHAPTER XVII.
TROUBLE AT ST. SAVIOUR'S, LEEDS.
1847.
No man is given to see his work through. ' Man goeth forth unto
his work and to his labour until the evening ; ' but the evening falls
before it is done. There was One alone Who began, and finished,
and died. — J. H. Newman.
' SON, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy
good things,' are words which must often recur with a
note of fear to those to whom much earthly joy is
granted, even of the purest and highest — the prosperity of
schemes and of labour and sacrifices for the Kingdom of
Heaven's sake. The continual failure of such schemes,
disappointment in the instruments chosen and trusted by
himself, time and efforts apparently wasted, were among
the bitterest sorrows which Dr. Pusey had to bear.
Ever in the forefront of the battle — the line which
stood with him frequently wavering, breaking, fleeing —
the story of his life must, in the light of this world, be full
of sadness. Few things brought him more sorrow and
trouble than his noble offering of a church at Leeds.
The Rev. Richard Ward was its first vicar, appointed
by the trustees, with Dr. Hook's cordial approval, but pro
bably possessing scarcely sufficient strength of character

3 1 8 ' romaphorbia:
for the post ; and Dr. Pusey sent to his aid the Rev. R. G.
Macmullen, of whom he wrote to Mr. Keble, in 1846, as 'a
very valuable person,' and 'a laborious parochial minister.'
This he proved himself to be at St. Saviour's, and quickly
gained much affection and influence amongst the poor.
Dr. Hook, however, soon became uneasy and suspicious ;
perceiving that the general line taken at St. Saviour's
and its religious atmosphere differed considerably from
that at his parish church. There was nothing either in
ritual or teaching which would now raise any suspicion of
disloyalty to the Anglican communion ; but it is not
wonderful that the secession of Mr. Newman and others
should have created a general feeling of distrust and
uncertainty concerning his friends.
And Dr. Hook suffered severely from what Judge
Coleridge called ' Romaphorbia.' The exhibition of it in
his letters to Dr. Pusey is almost amusing, considering how
impossible it would have been to the latter to yield to his
continual entreaties to ' denounce Popery,' and that many
things which he classed under that head Dr. Pusey believed
to be sanctioned by the undivided Church. Dr. Hook
openly professed himself a strict adherent of old ' Church
and State ' principles, and of the via media, and he could
not but perceive the leading motif at St. Saviour's to be
somewhat out of harmony with these principles. It is
equally certain that all the great Missions which in later
days have made any real impression on the heathenism
of London have been worked rather on the lines of the
St. Saviour's clergy than on those of Dr. Hook.
His letters to Dr. Pusey during the autumn of 1846
are of such bitterness and vehemence as must have been

1846.I DR. HOOK'S ALARM. 319
very trying to one overburdened with care, and scarcely
recovered from all but mortal illness. He accuses him of
establishing 'a colony of Papists in the heart of Leeds,'
and of gradually assuming 'the whole direction of the
church.' It would have been well could it have been so ;
after a year of absence, illness, and overwork, the accusa
tion was plainly absurd. The fault was rather the other
way ; Dr. Pusey always trusted others too much. All
through November and December, however, the letters
continue at intervals of a few days.
You are suspected (he writes) of a desire to establish a colony
here of persons to be trained in your own views ; to form another
Littlemore. ... In Leeds the High Churchmen have confidence
in me ; and as the clergy of St. Saviour's are sound and consistent
Anglicans, things have gone on quietly and well ; but still there is
suspicion and fear.
Two things especially roused his indignation : one,
that the Breviary should be in use at St. Saviour's ; the
other, that the patronage of the church was practically in
Dr. Pusey's hands. He was constantly inveighing against
the former, and entreating Dr. Pusey to give up the
patronage to the Bishop. Early in November he writes
ofthe ' dreadful work going on at St. Saviour's,' and of the
clergy there undoing all he had ' been labouring to do for
ten years ' ; but a few days later he wrote more mildly in
answer to a pacific letter from Dr. Pusey, in which the
latter had declared his own ground to be 'that of Ken,
Andrewes, and Bramhall — the primitive, undivided Church.'
Still Dr. Hook protests ' I do not see how the Breviary
can be used without creating a Roman tone.'
Dr. Pusey leant much at this time on the support and

320 THE ST. SAVIOUR'S CLERGY.
comfort of the Rev. W. Upton Richards' devoted friendship.
' Things turn sadly to gall,' he wrote at the top of a letter
from Dr. Hook (November 15), which he appears to have
sent to Mr. Richards (as well as his other letters), and in
which Dr. Hook declares ' We are obliged to denounce
St. Saviour's, to tell people that we abhor the Roman tone
of the place, and that they whom we took to be allies are
our enemies.' And so the letters continue, bitter invectives
against the Breviary, against the whole Roman com
munion, against St. Saviour's, and, in no measured terms,
against Dr. Pusey, to whom he signs himself at one time
' yours most affectionately,' at another ' yours truly,' until
the forbearance, calmness, and sweetness of his friend's
answers brings a reaction of warm feeling in his impulsive
and affectionate heart.
I do hope well (Dr. Pusey wrote) and that you will find here
after that St. Saviour's has taken from you a heavy weight, 6000
souls, and will not prove a thorn to you. It makes my heart
bleed to see all this division ; when I had hoped that much good
would be done both by this and the Church of All Saints, and
another, which will be the fruits of St. Saviour's. ' O pray for the
peace of Jerusalem,' and, I speak in deep, real earnest, that God
will forgive me those sins for which what I had hoped to be to
His glory, seems to become an occasion of further division.
He was, however, at a distance, and thought the minds
of the St. Saviour's clergy to be rather as he wished than as
they were. There are thousands of churches now far more
' advanced,' both in teaching and in outward observances,
than was St. Saviour's at this time — but, also, where there
is no danger of the pastors abandoning their flock for
another communion. Dr. Hook, being on the spot, wa§
right in his judgment of what was likely to happen.

1846.] ST. SAVIOUR'S WRECKED. 321
'A blessing to you this Christmas,' he wrote to
Dr. Pusey, December 24, 1846. 'Depend upon it, you
are mistaken in Macmullen.' On January 1, 1847, Mr.
Macmullen was received into the Roman communion,
and, not long after, Mr. Ward, by Dr. Pusey's and
Mr. Marriott's advice, resigned St. Saviour's.
Dr. Pusey could only write to Mr. Keble, in February,
1847 :-
St. Saviour's is a complete wreck : the daily services given
up, and [the services] only precariously supplied on Sunday by a
clergyman of another church, who must be soon worn out if this
goes on. Now the sick are not visited ; the children not taught ;
no one can take charge of them.
The terrible strain under which men had to work in
those days who were in charge of any 'advanced' post,
ought not, in fairness, to be forgotten. The history of
the English Church during the fifty-four years which
have passed since the consecration of St. Saviour's has
proved that all, and far more than all then done or taught
is fully sanctioned by the Prayer-book, and is accepted as
a matter of course by even moderate Churchmen.
Mr. Ward and his colleagues knew that they were
working entirely within their rights —that their work was
singularly successful among the poor — and yet they found
themselves the mark for reproach, distrust, invective, sus
picion, even from such as Dr. Hook. They could not give
up what they believed, but their faith that it was a part of
the heritage of the English Church failed, and hope gave
way; perhaps all the more because, from the beginning
of the revival, the doctrines which had long been obscured
or forgotten, and on which, therefore, the minds of men
Y

322 DISTURBED CONVICTIONS.
trying to teach them were mainly fixed, were just those
which had not been obscured in the Roman communion.
'Ward will be very thankful to come to H[ursley],'
Dr. Pusey wrote early in 1847 to Mr. Keble. 'His is a
very different mind from Macmullen's, although his, too,
was one which should not have been lost. I have now
applied to Williams (King's), Pollen (Merton), Hinkley
(Trinity), Lowe (Chichester), none of whom can come.'
In the end, by Trinity Sunday, the Rev. A. P. Forbes x
became, for a time, Vicar of St. Saviour's. The trouble
there was one amongst many in which Dr. Pusey was
through life involved, from over-hopefulness about indi
viduals, trust in them, and desire to do what seemed to
him the best he could for them ; which sometimes pre
vented his perceiving the risk to great undertakings of
placing them in positions needing the utmost firmness and
discretion, as well as zeal and piety. He knew that Mr.
Macmullen had not been without misgivings as to his
position in the English Church ; but he wrote, early in
1846, to Mr. Keble, that he 'has, I believe, been more
tranquil and reassured of late ; and I do not apprehend
anything, although one never can answer for the future.'
The immense difficulty of finding fit men for any work
must also be remembered. In the upheaval of hearts and
consciences caused by Newman's secession, who was there
that could be surely said to be without misgivings, save
Dr. Pusey himself?2 Two other motives impelled him
to run risks, the gravity of which his sanguine nature
may have hindered his fully estimating. One was his
1 Afterwards Bishop of Brechin.
2 He told the writer, in his old age, that at no time did he ever have a
doubt as to our position.

1847.] TESTIMONY TO MR. WARD. 323
persuasion that employment and congenial work would
often be the best cure for doubts ; the other, his perfect
trust that the public teaching of any one to whom he com
mitted a charge would be in accordance with that of the
English Church.
In this, at least, he was not mistaken at St. Saviour's.
On Mr. Ward's resignation, a petition signed by 322 of
his communicants was sent to the Bishop, praying him
not to accept the resignation, in which they declared that —
During the whole period that Mr. Ward has had the charge of
us, we have never heard from him, either in public or private, any
teaching which would induce us to join the Roman communion,
or tend in any degree to shake our confidence in our Mother the
Church of England.
When, three years later, he joined the Roman com
munion, Dr. Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble that Mr. Ward
might perhaps say 'You sanctioned my going back to
Leeds to help there, after you knew what my state of mind
was,' x and adds : —
All I could say, would be, I did. Under the circumstances,
as far as I was concerned, I thought it the best thing for him, and
I trusted to his not teaching special Roman doctrine, or troubling
others. Indeed, he stopped some from going over for some time
before the last crash.
In the same letter he said : —
The fact is, that I have gone great lengths (though, of course,
I thought honestly) in keeping people on their own terms when I
could not on mine.
He leaves it to Mr. Keble's judgment whether a letter
1 Comparing other notices, this visit of Mr. Ward to St. Saviour's was
probably in 1848.

324 ALLOWANCE FOR DOUBTS.
(enclosed to him) to the Morning Chronicle stating the
above should be sent or not.
I see by Tuesday's Guardian (he says a few days later) that you
sent it whole to the Moming Chronicle. I hope that you approved
of it. I do not know what fresh attack it will bring forth, but,
anyhow, since it is true that I did go a great way in making
allowance for people's difficulties, and still persuading them to
remain, it is right that it should be known, if God wills. Ward,
etc., seem to wish to set one's bed on fire, in order to make one
get out of it.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XVII.
The following letter, written in 1847 or 1848, to the Rev. E. T.
Richards, of Farlington, is given as expressing Dr. Pusey's mind
concerning a Sister's life and work.
You asked me the other day about the employment of your
great treasure, C  , in the parish. You will perhaps have
observed that I was silent. In truth, I could not speak out my
whole mind. Of course, as long as you have adequate employ
ment for her, and still more while you want her, as you expressed
to me the other day, she will be happy in her domestic duties, for
I need not say how very deeply she loves you. But ever since I
really knew her, I have felt an inward pang, like one who might
one day have to suggest the cutting off of more than a right hand.
But imagine her to have been a son, and think of the matter,
not as something pressing, or for the time, but in itself.
Suppose then a son to have been very anxious to go out as a
missionary, as S. Francis Xavier or any other, to the East Indies,
so that you, in all human expectation, would never again see him.
Sharp as the pang of the parting would have been, you would have
thanked God, and, with pious Hannah, lent him for a little season
unto the Lord, from Whom you had received him, hoping through
His mercy to receive him back, not for a season only, but for
ever, to love him with the deeper love in the Presence of God,
Whom, by your mutual sacrifice, you had both learned to love
more deeply.
Now, whenever the time should be, this is my feeling for you
and your dear C  . I feel like one running a knife into you,
by speaking of it; and I cannot but love you, and this makes it the

326 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XVII.
harder, and I feel in a measure what all your pure feeling must be
for such a child. ... It makes one's heart overflow with thank
fulness to feel what a work of grace has been going on within
her. . . .
Now with regard to her future, (i) as to her inner life, (2) as
to her work for God.
1. It is difficult to convey the idea of the effect of such a life
as that of the Sisterhood in forming the mind. One must be in
it in order to feel it. But there are these two great prominent
points : (1) in what great degree it is a sacramental life; (2) (with
the exception of recreation) it is one even daily round of devotion
and charity, not broken in upon by anything, day by day and
month by month. Trial only shows how helpful this is for deep
devotion. But the sacramental life is that which, under present
circumstances, cannot be replaced elsewhere. You know that for
a long time H. C. was daily in the church. It is almost an
angel's life. We were saying last night how much the idea of
the sacramental life was lost among us. The very thought of it
as Daily Bread is gone. Yet it is something that in the one or
two churches to which the Sisterhood is or would be attached,
H. C. is weekly ; during Lent and Easter twice in the week ; in
Easter-week daily on all other festivals ; besides the opportunities
of communicating with the sick, which may make it twice in the
week all the year round. Now, believing that our Lord does in
communions impart and unite Himself to the soul, it is inconceiv
able how much love a person may not gain who, receiving thus
often, desires earnestly that 'He would dwell in us, and we in
Him.' . . . One can hardly imagine the state of things or of our
own soul when communions were four times in the year. It
seems strange when two years back they were monthly with one.
I can well imagine what a gain this would be to your C  .
2. As to the work for God. If anything is ever to be done
for our great cities, it must be through devoted women, in addition
to the clergy. They get at their minds, which we cannot. The
great reason why the Roman Catholic poor are so much better
taught, and know the faith so much better than ours, is that they
are taught through Sisters of Mercy. Our own Sisters feel and are

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XVII. 327
felt to have a hold over the minds of the young which others have
not. Children whom they take out of the streets ... are far
better formed than far more promising children under the best of
other systems. For they are under the insensible, daily influence
of persons devoted to God. But these are the very children who
are now left to themselves or to Satan, who, after a few years, . . .
run rapidly through a brief course of shame and sin. . . . Over how
many tens of thousands could we not read the Burial Service, and
can only imagine that some few may have had penitence given
them in the end of which man knows nothing, and to which he
contributes nothing. . . .
It is but to picture ourselves a few years ; (you, as well as I,
shall soon be declining) ; and if I had them I would gladly give
fifty children to help to rescue these little ones of their own sex
from misery in both worlds, thinking how blessed it would be to
see them on the Judgment Day with those whom they had won
for Christ. As I said, while you have more to do than you well can do,
and Purbrook is a difficulty to you, C  's place is plainly with
you, and I need not say how happy she is to be of any service to
you (love to whom has been in earlier years a great treasure of
God to her). But some time or other, I felt that I ought to set
the other picture before you, and I felt that I could not speak to
you, and yet, wheresoever I saw you, it has been a weight on my
mind, because I had thoughts as to your child which I could not
in speaking tell you. And now, having said this much, I could
more readily speak, though my object was not to speak, but to
put these thoughts before you, for you to weigh before God. May
He ever bless you. In Him, Yours ever affectionately,
E. B. P.

CHAPTER XVIII.
HAYLING ISLAND.
1847-1849. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds.
Shakespeare, Sonnet cxvi.
In these days, amid the changed conditions of feeling which
have passed over men in the last half-century, it is difficult
to realize the animus against Dr. Pusey which existed
fifty years ago, and which, in the estimation of his
biographer, made the ten years after Newman's secession
the most isolated of his life.
' During this time he was an object of widespread, deep,
fierce suspicion. Some Heads of Houses would not speak
to him when they met him in the street. The post brought
him, day by day, from all parts of the country, various
forms of insults, by letters signed and anonymous. ... If
Pusey was visited by Oxford friends, it was more or less
by stealth ; if acquaintance with him was avowed, it was,
at least in some circles, in a deprecatory and apologetic
tone.'1 He had to bear pain — of the sharpest to a heart so warm
and sensitive as his — the loss of love where yet he could not
cease to love. In public he must have schooled himself to
1 Life, iii. pp. 137, 138.

1847.I COLDNESS OF FRIENDS. 329
keep an unmoved expression, which may account for his eyes
being frequently cast down. Men thought of him as of an
ascetic, unmoved by ordinary emotions, when, in truth, he
had far keener feelings, and therefore suffered more than
most. To the last, in private, his countenance shone, with
an almost childlike glow of sudden pleasure, at any mark
of love or thought for him, and saddened at the contrary,
which yet he took as his due, and love as an unmerited
ray of the Eternal Love on which he rested. He used to
tell the story of a good man who, when many excuses
were made to him for discomfort caused by another's
neglect, replied, ' He is the only person who knows how
I ought to be treated ' ; and his way of referring to it
revealed his own sincere feeling that, though for the love
he had to many, they now took his contrary part, he counted
all to be but his due deserts. Still, this could not hinder
ever-present pain, but rather increased it, from intensifying
self-reproach. ' C'est le ton qui fait la musique ' ; and even
where there was no active antagonism, change in the tone
and relation of friends towards him had power to wound
him deeply. He said once that that sort of thing took
more out of him in half an hour than ten hours' work ;
and his frequent collapses of health were probably rather
caused by heart than head strain. ' This is nothing else
but sorrow of heart ' might have been said of many of his
illnesses ; for there was a wonderful power of work in him
if he was happy, while the failure of some spring of glad
ness told upon him to an unusual degree in a character of
so much force.
My poor father comes in for the usual accusation of sternness
and austerity (his daughter writes of some published notice of

330 UNSHAKEA HOPE.
him) : the one of all others with the most tenderly sensitive nature,
wounded over and over again, where he felt things most keenly,
and misrepresented all his life.
Still, however sorrowful and in a way broken down, he
was unshaken and strong in hope. Writing at this time
to a friend of the bright days, before the troubles of the
last few years ' threw all things into confusion,' he adds : —
The same great work is going on now, and a far deeper work
than in more prosperous days, and far wider. It must have its
fruits. The seasons are in God's hands. But when the harvest
ripens, Rome must own us as a Church ; and God, we may trust,
will make us healthfully one.
Public feeling, however, ran very wide of the truth, and
amongst those who wished for some anti- Roman utterance
from Dr. Pusey was Mr. Gladstone, who wrote to him,
giving expression to the wish of many friends.
13, Carlton House Terrace, May 3, 1847.
My dear Dr. Pusey, — . . . My knowledge is very imper
fect, both upon the facts and the rights of the case ; but I have
great doubts whether the world at large understands the strength
of disapproval with which you regard both the secessions and the
formation of the desire to secede. ... If you are practically mis
understood upon these questions — a matter on which I have no
title to speak except with diffidence from my imperfect informa
tion — I hope you may consider whether you can do anything to
dispel what certainly, if it exist at all, must be a very dangerous
misunderstanding. Had Dr. Pusey so willed it, he could probably have
made himself even popular at this time. His immense
learning, his power of marshalling historical facts to illus
trate and defend his position, were weapons which he

1847.] ATTITUDE TOWARDS ROME. 33 1
could have so used against Rome as to set himself right
with Englishmen. But never for a moment did he swerve
from the lines he had laid down for himself.
If I did say anything publicly about the Church of Rome (he
had written to Mr. Gladstone two months earlier), it would be
that no good can come of this general declamation against it,
without owning what is good and great in it. . . . Our protest
can, I think, be only healthful [and] effective, if we allow what
we ought, and what, if people acquainted themselves with the
good side of the Roman system, they would. ... So you see I
am not a physician for these days, and my medicine is stronger
than people would take, so I had best keep it to myself.
He feared also to give a wrong impression. In an
undated note to Mr. Keble, he wrote : —
The Bishop of  's letter is just what I expected. He is a
strong anti-Romanist, and he is committed to the view that our
Articles are opposed to the decrees of Trent, which, as an historical
fact, I do not believe. I believe that both Churches were
hindered from forming decrees against the decrees of the other."
In another undated note to Mr. Keble, he says : —
I suppose that people who profess themselves ' attached to the
doctrine and discipline of the Church of England,' really mean
that they do not wish anything changed. I am quite content to
work on, as far more than I am fitted for ; but I cannot profess to
be pleased with the Articles, and not to wish that they had been
less negative and more positive.
In all this Mr. Keble was entirely of one mind with Dr.
Pusey ; indeed, the latter tells. Mr. Gladstone that he had
partly come to his present position of ' public neutrality as
to the Church of Rome,' through one whom he loved as a
father, 'not J. H. N.' In 1845 Mr. Keble had written to

332 PROPOSED COMMENTARY.
him of some measure suggested for mixed schools in
Ireland, where both Anglican and Roman Catholic children
might receive religious instruction from the same teacher —
I don't think it would appear revolting, because it would
be [an] instance of that which I am rather apt to dream about — a
kind of neutrality between England and Rome. Both being
branches of the Church, as our theory asserts, they cannot really
be enemies to each other : neither need hesitate to educate the
other's children, if need so require.
Dr. Pusey's own position was clearly expressed by him
in a letter written this year to the Morning Herald to
correct some mis-statement as to his advice to one who
had joined the Roman communion : —
My argument was, ' It is a matter of absolute certainty that we
have the Apostolic succession. This is a fact which can be
proved in a narrow compass. Since, then, the Church of England
has this, and also the true faith " once for all delivered to the
saints," there is nothing to impair her authority over us, and we,
in her, have the Sacraments and whatsoever else we need to be
saved.' It is sometimes of use to narrow the grounds of con
troversy; and it is to me a mystery how persons who are per
suaded and know that we have the Sacraments and the Presence
of Christ among us, can go elsewhere to seek Him Whom we
have. He turned from public controversy, though none will ever
know the amount of his private labours to keep individuals
in the English communion, and threw himself with renewed
hope and vigour into his most cherished scheme (next to the
revival of religious communities), a commentary of the whole
Bible, in accordance with Patristic and Catholic teaching,
aided by all that modern scholarship and research could

1847-1 HAYLING ISLAND. 333
contribute to the work. His letters at this time, especially
to Mr. Keble, are full of the subject, which he presses
earnestly on his and others' consideration, sending lists of
those on whom he thought he could reckon for help. One
list, in which he had portioned out all the Old Testament
to different friends, ends with ' Minor Prophets — I.' ' It
puts me into good heart to think of it,' he wrote in Lent,
1847. 'It is a great work, if God give us strength.'
His own part of it was the only one that was to be
accomplished ; others had not his enthusiasm in the matter,
or the invincible perseverance and industry which pre
vented all the troubles and manifold calls on his time
which were at hand, from putting an end to the task he
had set himself. That his whole plan should have failed
was in the end a bitter disappointment : he did not give up
the hope of carrying it out through others until late in life ;
and, in his seventy-seventh year, actually began a Com
mentary on the Psalms.
Of the Long Vacation this year Mrs. Brine writes : —
We spent the summer vacations of 1847 and 1848 at Hay ling
Island. The island is about five miles round, and was approached
from Havant by a ferry-boat. Its chief attraction was the perfect
quiet ; but my father had many visitors coming and going. Lord
Stavordale, Lord Ilchester's eldest son, was constantly with us.
He died while quite a young man. Also the Laprimaudayes, and
the present Superior of the ' Convent ' at Oxford, Miss Hughes,
niece of my father's fellow canon, Dr. Bull, stayed with us for some
time. She was making arrangements for her future work, and
discussing plans with my father about beginning a religious com
munity at Oxford.
My father preached on St. Bartholomew's Day in the quaint
church on Hayling Island ; and a large party of friends came over

334 HOUSEHOLD AT HAYLING ISLAND.
for the day and stayed to luncheon. But we saw more of the
family of the Rev. E. T. Richards, Vicar of Farlington, near
Havant, than of any one. They were a large family of young
people, and constantly came over to spend the day with us,
or we went to them. One daughter, Charlotte, became a Sister
of Mercy at Plymouth, and died two or three years later, from
overwork and a too ascetic life. Another, Laura, married
Mr. Huntingford, the clergyman at Littlemore; and a younger
sister, Mary, became a Sister in 1878, and is still working at Ascot
Priory Convalescent Hospital.
The household at Hayling Island, of which Mr. Marriott
was a member, observed regular hours of devotion, the Day
Hours from Prime to Compline, besides morning and evening
service, and frequent celebrations.
I wonder whether Mary Brine remembers the clock at Hayling
Island when we were all there (the Superior of the Oxford Sister
hood, Miss Hughes, wrote at Christmas, 1898) ; or rather 'the
order that everybody should keep their watches an hour .before
the real time; so we got up for a celebration in the house
Dr. Pusey had at seven by our watches ; by the real time at six.1
Then on Saturday there was a grand fuss to get the right time for
Sunday, when Dr. Pusey often celebrated at the parish church and
preached. There is an old man still living (in 1899) on Hayling
Island who tells the story of the congregation in church
being kept in a state of repressed laughter while Dr. Pusey
was preaching one summer evening, by an owl which, after
flying several times round the church, perched on the
sounding board over the pulpit and remained there during
1 He said in after years that the device of putting on the clock was to
convince some who were in his house that it was a mere fancy that they could
not rise early in the morning.

1847.] DR. HAMPDEN'S APPOINTMENT. 335
the sermon, peering over at the preacher, who asked after
wards what he could have said or done to amuse the
congregation. Dr. Hampden's appointment to the Bishopric of
Hereford occurred soon after Dr. Pusey's return to Oxford.
' Such things,' he wrote, ' I suppose did unsettle dear
Newman more than anything, a strong principle of heresy
living and energizing in the Church.' It was determined
by him and Mr. Keble, who felt, if possible, even more
strongly on the subject, to institute a suit against
Dr. Hampden in the Ecclesiastical Court on the charge of
' teaching and maintaining doctrines against those of the
Church of England.' Letters of Request were needed
from the Bishop to carry the case into the Court of Arches.
Bishop Wilberforce actually signed these letters, on
December 16, 1847, but withdrew them, on the plea that
he was told, legally, that the act expressed ' a judgment
adverse to Dr. Hampden's orthodoxy.' The Bishop's
change of front was a bitter grief to Dr. Pusey and
Mr. Keble, and the former wrote to Mr. Marriott : —
Dodsworth was greatly troubled at it. He said, ' It makes one
ask, Can this indeed be a part of the Church of Christ which,
while it is so jealous of any sympathy with the other branches,
tolerates anything on the side of heresy ? ' This strictly for yourself,
that you may not undervalue the effect of the Bishop's letter. I
agree with D. that it is far more injurious to the Church than Dr.
Hampden's appointment. An act of tyranny hurts not the
Church; a betrayal by her own guardians does.
All was done that could be done — Mr. Keble making
himself responsible for the legal expenses, estimated at
^2000. But the last appeal, made in the Queen's Bench,

336 BREVIARY SERVICES.
failed, the judges being equally divided. 'I trust,' Mr.
Keble wrote, ' that by God's blessing we have gained some
thing by this move, though the day of H.'s (so-called)
consecration will be a bitter and humiliating day.'
A few weeks later Mr. Keble wrote (March 10,
1848) :—
I cannot see that appointments made under our present
circumstances can at all affect the being of the Church of England,
except, indeed, indirectly, by leading to a change in her formularies.
They are sad tokens of a complete want of discipline ; but her
doctrines remain, as far as I can see, the same.
There appears to have been some attack on the Sister
hood about this time, for Dr. Pusey wrote (February 18)
to Mr. Keble : —
The threatened storm is withheld for the present from the
Sisterhood. The difficulty seems how it is to be recognized by
the Church ; it is growing, and seems likely to grow more, by
God's blessing. The only point which I am afraid of is their
services. They have been framed, through Dodsworth's judg
ment, pretty strictly on the English Prayer-book. Not even ' May
the souls of the faithful ' is said at the end of the services. There
is nothing which the Bishop could individually object to. . . .
Still, their services, to which they are very much attached, are
taken from the Breviary. Singly, of course, everything could be
defended. They use nothing but Psalms, responses from Holy
Scripture, or the selections from the Fathers, whom our Homilies
so praise. Yet the name of the Breviary will condemn in the mass
what in detail could be defended.
As it stands, the Bishop is, of course, to know whatever
he wishes, whenever he asks; meanwhile things go on, upon
our1 responsibility that there is nothing at all contrary to, or at
variance from, the doctrine or discipline or rjOos of the English
Church.

1848.I GROWTH OF SISTERHOOD. 337
After consulting Mr. Keble as to the best course to
take, and saying that his own wish would have been that
Mr. Dodsworth ' should go to the Bishop, lay all before
him, and ask for his direct sanction,' he continues : —
The Sisterhood seems likely to grow yearly. We become
yearly responsible to more persons that they should not be turned
adrift on the world ; and they become yearly more unfit for it.
But in this way it is consolidating. The time must come when
the Church must take notice of it. Should we wait, without any
act of our own, with the tacit acquiesence of the Bishop, until the
sanction comes from without ?
It is a token of the slow and gradual growth of all
which he most desired he writes (June 2), to tell Mr.
Keble that Mr. Upton Richards ' is going to have an early
Communion on Thursdays weekly, and also proposes to
give notice that there will be Holy Communion on any
morning, if due notice is given to the clergy the evening
before . . . thinking of persons sailing for the colonies,
etc., who might be anxious to have Holy Communion the
last morning.'
The Long Vacation was again spent at Hayling Island,
whence Dr. Pusey and his children went to stay at
Farlington Rectory for rather a long visit with Mr. and
Mrs. Richards. One of their daughters, now a Sister,
writes : —
As little children we looked upon him as our own especial
friend, who would play with us, and talk to us as one of ourselves.
Hayling has always been associated in our memory with him,
whom we were taught to revere more than any one else. I can
remember his calling us * my little ones ' and gathering us closely
round him, with his arms round us, to tell us stories. On one
occasion when we asked for a story of lions and tigers, he told us
t z

338 CHILDREN AT HAYLING ISLAND.
one about the wild beasts who refused to touch a martyr. During
those summers he continually invited us to spend a day with him
by the sea.
Mr. Charles Marriott was there, and one day took three of my
brothers and myself for a long walk to ' the Church sands ' where
the old church had been submerged. A heavy downfall of rain
overtook us ; and he put us all under his long cape, and brought
us home perfectly dry, saying he had tried to be a good hen to the
chickens under his wings.
As a tiny child, when shown the frontispiece in the ' Spiritual
Combat ' of the angel, I thought it was a likeness of Dr. Pusey,
and throughout life I have looked at it, feeling that it brought back
his face to me in those early days.
The four little Richards children were between the
ages of four and eight ; one of them, now Colonel Stuart
Richards, writes (July 2, 1899) : —
I can just remember his taking us on his knee and showing
and explaining to us the picture of the Good Shepherd taking the
lamb out of the thorn bush.1 I, and no doubt you, too, thought
him the ' goodest ' person we ever saw, but of course this was
taught us also by our elders in the family. My impression of his
appearance is that he had a particularly good and kind face and
gentle manner, that he spent most of his time in writing a Hebrew
Commentary, or something about the Bible, and that he wore a
shabby old coat and hat, not being able to afford good ones,
because he gave all his money to the poor.
The Christ Church ' lodgings ' were brightened by the
return this year, to live at home, of Dr. Pusey's young
daughter. She was seriously ill at Christmas, and was
ordered to Torquay, where, she writes : —
We had part of a lovely house, Abbotsford, on the heights
above Torquay, near some great friends, a Mrs. Majendie and her
1 It always hung on one side of the fireplace, close to where he used to
write. It is seen in the frontispiece.

1848.] VISIT TO TORQUAY. 339
step-children, the Du Boulays, the eldest of whom, Susan, afterwards
joined the Church of Rome, and died in a convent. There again,
as I got stronger, I remember the scrambles down the hill to St.
John's Church for Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday services.
These walks were such a delight to us when we could get my
father away from books and letters, and have him to ourselves.
I remember the pleasant drives to Bishopstowe, old Bishop
Philpotts' seaside residence, a lovely place on the road to Battis-
combe, where he often went to see the old Bishop and talk over
matters with him, turning me loose into the beautiful grounds
reaching down to the sea.
My strongest impression of my father's tastes was his intense
love of the sea. To him, I am sure, it spoke volumes. From my
earliest childhood he used to quote the Greek expression of
^Eschylus, and explain to us children what it meant, ' the many
twinkling smile of ocean ; ' and I am sure that it was true to him
that- Such signs of love old ocean gives,
We cannot choose but think it lives.
The ocean did live to him in a way I have never observed in any
one else. I cannot fully express what I mean ; but I used to watch
his face as he gazed out at the sea, and feel that it was to him
what it was not to others. He often spoke to me in after years of
the waves tossing themselves in wild fury against the boundary
God had set them. ' Thus far and no farther shall thy proud
waves go;' likening it to the impotence of human rebellion
against the will of God.
He had also a love and enjoyment of beautiful scenery as
God's handiwork, His finger tracing all and imparting to them
their beauty.
His favourite poems were Walter Scott's. He was never
weary of quoting them. They were so dear to him, because he
had read them over with my mother during their prolonged
wedding-tour amidst the scenes to which they referred.
The Rev. Alexander P. Forbes, the second incumbent
of St. Saviour's, Leeds, had resigned it in January of this

34° WORK AT ST. SAVIOUR'S, LEEDS.
year, on becoming Bishop of Brechin, and Mr. Minster, a
former curate of Dr. Hook's, accepted Dr. Pusey's offer of
the difficult charge, and quickly won the affection of his
flock. I never met with a people in which there was so much seeming
promise (he wrote to Dr. Pusey). . . . That it [St. Saviour's] must
eventually rise and be a model for the working of other manu
facturing towns there cannot be a doubt. . . . There are signs
even now of an abundant harvest in future years, if labourers only
can be found to gather it in.
The founder of St. Saviour's had need of such com
fort ; for fresh troubles arose where he had hoped to
rejoice in the evangelization, through the teaching of
the whole Catholic Faith, of masses sunk in ignorance
and sin.
But the confession of sin, when consciences were stirred,
caused difficulties, as commonly happened at that time,
with the Bishop, and Dr. Hook unhappily took the same
line. In a letter to Dr. Pusey (November 23, 1848) Mr.
Minster says : —
I wrote to him [the Bishop] some time since, giving him a full
and very particular account of the work going on at St. Saviour's,
and the awful depths of sin we had to contend with in very many
of the people who came to us, at the same time claiming his
sympathy and advice. ... He simply said in answer that he
was sorry for the difficulties I had to contend with, passing by
altogether the strong picture I drew of the state of morals amongst
my people, and concluded his letter by regretting that the sins of
former incumbents of St. Saviour's should so strongly operate
against my usefulness. In truth, anything colder than his lord
ship's letter could not well be imagined.

1845-1 THE BISHOP'S COLDNESS. 34I
Mr. Keble, who had been at St. Saviour's for the
Dedication Festival, and had gone into the matter with
Mr. Minster and Dr. Hook, reported to Dr. Pusey (November
4), that as the latter did not ' specify any evil practices,' the
whole thing, as far as he could see,
resolves itself into an attack on the principle of private Confession
and authoritative Absolution. I reported all this to Moberly to
day, and he wondered both at Hook and the Bishop, but says, if
they were to attack Catholic doctrine, it is well they should have
chosen this point, it is so impregnable, according to the Prayer-
book. I was, as you may suppose, delighted with St. Saviour's
and with the kind and earnest people there ; surely they and their
work will be blessed.
But the Bishop had been strongly prejudiced against
the St. Saviour's clergy, and as time went on the breach
became wider. The clergy felt that they had lost his
confidence, and could expect from him no fatherly con
sideration. Rebuked and hindered where they could not
but know they were acting within their rights, they yielded
to despondency. Mr. Pollen, one of the curates, was in
hibited for applying the word sacrament in a sermon to
other rites than Baptism and Holy Communion ; Mr.
Crawley, another curate, was suspended for an unguarded
quotation from St. Cyril of Jerusalem, with reference to
the Presence in the sacrament, in a sermon preached eight
months before, and for saying the prayers with his face to
the east.
Another bad illness was the result to Dr. Pusey of all
this trouble ; and his friend, Mr. Richard Cavendish,1 per
suaded him to try the air of Eastbourne, where he spent
1 Afterwards Lord R. Cavendish.

342 VISIT TO EASTBOURNE.
three months, probably, from his daughter's notes, the
Long Vacation of 1849.
He was quite an invalid when we went to Eastbourne, at that
time quite a small place, but gradually recovered his strength;
the air revived him wonderfully. He used to see a great deal of
Mr. Cavendish, who had a house of his own not far from us. My
father's great delight was to drive to Beachy Head, and there
enjoy the breezes and glorious open view. There were splendid
sands at Eastbourne, on which we sat and walked, and where he
heard the problems of Euclid, which my brother and I had to
learn in the mornings. We used to draw them out for him on
the firm sands, and then say our problems over. I have often
wondered whether the sands were ever utilized before or after for
such a purpose.
He was ordered by his doctors so spend the winter of
1849 abroad, but Lady Lucy 'was so averse,' Mrs. Brine
writes —
to my father leaving England, that Mr. Edward Herbert,1 Aunt
Emily's uncle, lent him his shooting box at Asherne, close to
Dartmouth, for the winter. We spent five months there, some
of the happiest of my life. They were months of intense enjoy
ment to my father. He was working very hard.2 There were
verandahs all round the house, on which every window opened ;
he had the upstairs drawing-room, and his bedroom next to
it. The enjoyment of the life at Asherne to him was its perfect
privacy ; large grounds stretching out in every direction, and
right down to Start Bay, the whole of which could be seen from
the house — from Start Point, with its revolving lighthouse, to the
entrance to Dartmouth harbour. The climate was so mild that
1 Hon. Edward Herbert, brother to the third Earl of Carnarvon, the father
of Lady Emily Pusey.
2 There is a long letter from him to Archdeacon Manning dated (in
December, 1849) Asherne, Dartmouth. It was a time of very great anxiety
as to the impending ' Gorham judgment.'

1849.] REST AT ASHERNE. 343
my father could work the whole day out-of-doors on his balcony ;
Mr. Herbert had left his carriage, horse, and boat for our use,
and my father used to enjoy going up the Dart in a steamer to
Totnes. The Kerrs, friends of his, lived at Dittisham, of which
Lord Henry Kerr was rector, and we saw a great deal of them.
He and his wife afterwards joined the Roman communion— a
great grief to my father.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE GORHAM JUDGMENT.
1849— 1852.
Poi con dottrina e con volere insieme,
Con l'iuficio apostolico si mosse,
Quasi torrente ch'alta vena preme.
Paradiso, c. xii.
FOUR years of labour, anxiety, and sorrow to Dr. Pusey
followed an event which occurred at the end of 1847 — the
presentation by the Crown of the vicarage of Brampford
Speke, in the diocese of Exeter, to the Rev. G. C. Gorham.
From the immense mass of documents and correspondence ,
concerning 'the Gorham case,' the facts here given have
been gathered in order to make Dr. Pusey's principles and
action in the matter intelligible to those not already
acquainted with Church annals during those years.
The Bishop of Exeter, Dr. Philpotts, deemed it neces
sary, from his knowledge of Mr. Gorham's opinions, to
examine, before instituting him, whether he held the faith
of the Church as to baptismal regeneration, or whether
his belief was incompatible with the teaching of the Prayer-
book. The result of an examination, lasting altogether
eight days, was a refusal on the Bishop's part to institute
him to the living of Brampford Speke, being convinced

1 849.] DECISION OF COURT OF ARCHES. 345
that he held and taught that in baptism infants are not
made members of Christ and children of God. Mr. Gorham
carried the case into the Court of Arches, and it was not
until August, 1849, ti13* Sir H. Jenner Fust, the Dean of
the Court of Arches, pronounced the decision of the Court
that the Bishop of Exeter had shown sufficient reason for
not instituting Mr. Gorham, since the Church of England
held the doctrine of spiritual regeneration of infants in
baptism, and that Mr. Gorham ' did oppose this Article ' of
the Church. Thereupon Mr. Gorham appealed to the
Judicial Committee of the Privy Council.
From the first Dr. Pusey of course perceived the gravity
of the situation, and the serious consequences which would
probably ensue, especially in the unsettling of many
minds. Yet he also said from the first, as he wrote to
Archdeacon Manning, that he did not see
that the decision of the Privy Council need involve any prin
ciple at all. ... If it should seem to go beyond the powers of
a lay tribunal, then is the time for the Church to consider what
is to be done.
For the ultimate appeal being to the Sovereign in
Privy Council, he took his stand upon the declaration in
the Supremacy Bill of Queen Elizabeth that
no persons shall be authorized by the Queen, her heirs or
successors, to exercise any spiritual jurisdiction, shall have any
authority or power to determine or judge any matter or cause to
be heresy, but only such as had been heretofore determined,
ordered or adjudged to be heresy by the authority of the
Canonical Scriptures, first four General Councils or any of them,
or any other General Council wherein the same were declared
heresy, etc., or such as should hereafter be adjudged to be heresy,

346 FUNCTION OF THE STATE.
by the High Court of Parliament, with tlie assent of the clergy in
tlieir Convocation, anything in this Act to the contrary notwith
standing.1 He looked upon the State as the ultimate administrator
of justice, in which sense he stated that he had taken the
oath of the supremacy of the Crown ; and he held that
supremacy, as exercised in the Privy Council, had no
power to determine what was heresy or not, but only
whether, in certain cases, the assent to certain doctrines
required for the cure of souls and enjoyment of tempo
ralities attached to such cure, had been so contravened as
to give just cause for the forfeiture of the cure and its
temporalities. But he also saw that, practically, there was
great danger of this 'exercise of jurisdiction ' involving
'the power of determining doctrine to be heresy or not to
be heresy,' and that, in the Gorham case, as he wrote to
Judge Coleridge (January 9, 1850), 'aright decision may
be worse than a wrong. A wrong decision might rouse
people to oppose the whole system. A right decision as
to doctrine might induce them to acquiesce in a wrong
principle, which might issue in most disastrous conse
quences.' 2
Perhaps these words give the key to the consequences
of the wrong decision when it came. It caused the second
great wave of secession to Rome amongst those who
regarded it as determining the doctrine of the English
Church as to baptism. It did not alter the position of
1 See Life, iii. pp. 209, 210.
s ' Henry Wilberforce . . . dreaded a favourable decision . . . more than
an heretical one ; the latter might lead to resistance to the secular Court ; the
former might tempt Churchmen to overlook the real character of the Court in
their satisfaction at its action.' — Ibid. iii. p. 211.

1849.I SPIRITUAL AUTHORITY. 347
Dr. JPusey and of those who held with him that a mistake
had been made, in that ' the pleadings went on the supposi
tion ' that the Judicial Committee was ' to adjudge what is
and what is not the doctrine of the Church of England,'
and that the business of Churchmen was to consider how
the mischief to the Church, under the present state of
things, could be remedied.
I suspect (he wrote) that in maintaining the right of the
temporal Sovereign to have any subject righted, without his going
to a tribunal abroad, the State overlooked that in matters of faith
they were aiming to combine things necessarily incompatible, i.e.
that they did not see that the judgment of the individual in a
matter of faith might involve what they disclaim, the determining
of the faith itself.
The answers to numerous letters from the Bishop of
Exeter, who applied to Dr. Pusey for help and advice,
entailed an enormous amount of work ; but, as usual, he
shrank from no labour laid upon him, although he had
regretted the Bishop's refusal to institute Mr. Gorham,
thinking that allowance ought to be made for the long
abeyance into which the teaching of sacramental truth
had fallen, that ' the recovery of spiritual truth or health,
after a long interval of disuse or error, is necessarily slow,'
and that Mr. Gorham might have been won by kindness,
but ', would only be exasperated by law.'1 'The Church
seems to me like a sickly person recovering (were his own
words to Mr. Keble) ; one would watch his strength returning
and not put it to any decisive trial one could help, which
one did not feel morally sure it would stand.'
' You have doubtless heard that the judgment is to be
1 Life, iii. pp. 217, 227.

348 DISQUIET.
against us,' Bishop Philpotts wrote to Dr. Pusey (February
14, 1850). As the certainty of this grew, so did fore
bodings as to its effect.
There is one matter on which I am very anxious (the Bishop
wrote on February 20) : to do what I can to prevent eager Church
men from renouncing our Church, if the judgment be what is
expected — and still more if such functionaries as the two Arch
bishops and the Bishop of London have declared in favour of it.
That no such men, or any individual man, can commit the Church,
is certain ; yet I much fear that many will act as if it were other
wise. Pray tell me what you would think it best to say, in order
to stop them.
' It will not, I hope, be felt by R. W. 1 as affecting his
position,' Mr. Keble wrote ; ' but how about our other
restless friends ? '
It was this, more than anything, which brought trouble
to Dr. Pusey, of which his long letters to Archdeacon
Manning at this time are a token ; for he believed that if
men would but be patient, a way would be found for the
true voice of the Church to be heard ; and even now he
sent the Bishop a letter from Mr. Keble suggesting a
Diocesan Synod being called by the Bishop, in which the
whole diocese should ' move synodically, protesting, setting
forth the true doctrine, and demanding a Provincial Council
to settle it.'
The Bishop took up the suggestion thankfully and
heartily. ' The very step would indicate vitality,' he wrote,
1 and might tend to rouse other portions of our Church.'
It was on March 8, 1850, that the Judicial Committee
of the Privy Council delivered its judgment that Mr.
1 Rev. Robert Wilberforce. He passed over to the Roman communion in
1854.

1850.] PRIVY COUNCIL JUDGMENT. 349
Gorham's opinions were ' not contrary or repugnant to the
declared doctrine of the Church of England as by law
established, and that Mr. Gorham ought not, by reason of
the doctrine held by him, to have been refused admission
to the vicarage of Brampford Speke.'
On March 25 Bishop Philpott's1 Letter to the Arch
bishop appeared, ' a document that belongs to history,' 2
and in which he entreated the Primate to ' call together
his comprovincial bishops, and invite them to declare
what is the faith of the Church on the Articles impugned.'
The letter concludes with a solemn protest against the
Archbishop instituting Mr. Gorham within his diocese.
From this time until the end of May the Bishop brought
pleas before one civil Court after another to stay the effect
ofthe judgment, but in vain ; and on August 6, 1850, Mr.
Gorham was instituted by the Dean of the Arches, under
the fiat of the Archbishop of Canterbury.
The Bishop made a solemn protest against this act, in
which 'he pointed out the difference between that state
ment of Mr. Gorham's teaching which the Judicial Com
mittee had framed as the basis of its decision, and those
statements of Mr. Gorham himself which the Bishop held
to be contrary to the doctrine of the Church.' 3 He there
fore argued that Mr. Gorham had been refused institution
for reasons which had not been considered by the Judicial
Committee.

1 See Life, iii. p. 230.
2 Few documents of the kind since Law's Letters to Hoadley rank in
importance with this famous protest. Deep conviction and common sense,
trenchant logic and indignant irony brought to bear with triumphant effect on
the judgment of the Judicial Committee.— Ibid. iii. p. 229.
3 Ibid. iii. pp. 232, 233.

350 ORDERING OF THE BATTLE.
No adequate notion can be given, within the limits of
this memoir, of the labour which events caused by the
Gorham judgment entailed on Dr. Pusey. There was a
' London Church Union,' but, in those days, neither Dio
cesan Synods nor Convocation, and all expression of Church
feeling had to find outlets through irregular channels, and
influenced by many who were themselves too shaken
and bewildered to be wise leaders. Almost daily letters
to Mr. Keble through the month of March reveal per
plexities and the burden of responsibilities, especially in
organizing the immense meetings at St. Martin's Hall and
Freemasons' Tavern, where all the leading Churchmen who
could be present met, and old friends, who had latterly
fought shy of Dr. Pusey and Mr. Keble, once more rallied
round them, and hung upon their words in the great
speeches which were as trumpet calls to those who had
come together to reassert the faith of the Nicene Creed,
and to order the coming battle for synodical action and
freedom in the exercise of ' the divine office of the Uni
versal Church.'1
But, before long, many of the standard-bearers showed
tokens of fainting hearts, nor took heed to Mr. Keble's
warning of the ' long delay which must ensue before such
questions could be satisfactorily settled.' Pamphlets by
the Rev. W. Maskell, chaplain to the Bishop of Exeter,
and the Rev. T. W. Allies, only tended to increase diffi
culties and make the restless more uneasy ; and, amidst all
the overwhelming pressure of the time, Dr. Pusey brought
out his book on the Royal Supremacy, which he had
1 For a fuller account of this memorable meeting, and of various important
measures, see the Life, iii. pp. 240-260.

1850.] STANDARD-BEARERS FAINTING. 35 1
written on scraps of paper, as he could, on journeys by
rail and by coach, in moments snatched from other occu
pations at home, 'thinking,' as he wrote to Mr. Keble,
'that I had something which might help to set some minds
at rest. But I found that I needed more knowledge and
more books to satisfy myself that I was accurate ; and
more books gave me more things to say ; and so some is
rewritten, and some rearranged, and all is confusion.' It
was written to show, from the history of the Ancient
Church and of General Councils, that Mr. Maskell was
mistaken in his theory that ' any control over Church
doctrine or discipline on the part of the Crown, even
though exercised purely through the Episcopate, was
indefensible.' ' Though I have not had time to read so much or so
carefully as I wish, yet I have read enough to make me
feel that it is worthy of you. Higher praise I need not
give to it,' Bishop Philpotts wrote.
It did not influence those whose hearts had failed them.
Mr. Dodsworth's influence through sermons had of late
greatly troubled Dr. Pusey, since the Sisters attended his
church ; and a public letter from him to Dr. Pusey, attack
ing him for seeming to ' shrink from the front rank,' in
creased difficulties. A real and painful difference had
arisen amongst those who had so long fought together —
Mr. Dodsworth and his friends emphasizing all that divided
them from their opponents, Dr. Pusey and Mr. Keble
believing that ' many, not the least devout and earnest of
the so-called Low Church, are not opposing the truth of
baptismal regeneration, but an untrue imagination of it'
The next attack was a joint letter from Mr. Dodsworth,

352 ATTACK FROM OLD FRIENDS.
Mr. Maskell, and Mr. Allies, denying the right of English
clergy to hear confessions without ' jurisdiction ' given by
a distinct act of their Bishops, and the validity, in conse
quence, of their ministrations. This letter stirred the wrath
of even the gentle hermit of Hursley, especially as coming
from men who could no longer have cared whether such
ministrations were valid or not.
Either they have made up their minds or no (he wrote,
Whitsun Eve, 1850). If they have, let them say so at once, and
state their case, if they think it dutiful, publicly, without attacking
an individual. If they have not, they are cruelly trifling with
tender spirits, and wantonly trifling with that Truth which they
say so much of.
The attack was of use in being the occasion of a 'Letter'1
of great ' historical and theological value ' from Dr. Pusey.
On one hand he was suspected, dreaded, and disliked
as a ' Romanist, even Jesuit, in disguise ; ' on the other,
attacked, in Mr. Dodsworth's words, for hiding himself
' under soft assertions of truths which,' it was said, ' not six
men in the Church of England will be found to deny.'
Both sides could not but perceive that he had become, in
spite of himself, leader in the fight. His immovable con
victions, deep devotion, simplicity of aim, and immense
force of character, strengthened by his learning, were the
great defences of each separate fort on the field, which he
held and maintained until the fire slackened and the
enemy drew off rather quietly, as men awoke to find that
the justice of his position was generally acknowledged, or
1 The Church of England Leaves her Children Free to whom to Open their
Griefs. A Letter to the Rev. W. U. Richards. Oxford : Parker, 1850. See
the Life, iii. pp. 264-270.

1850.] DIFFERENCES IN COUNCIL. 353
that at least it was felt to be only fair that others should
be allowed to maintain it without attack. But that time
was still far distant, and now the struggle and confusion
only increased. Some of the chief amongst those who
afterwards laid down their arms in despair were still with
him, such as Archdeacons Manning and Wilberforce, but
distrust of their ultimate action was in the air. An
important ' Declaration touching the Royal Supremacy in
Matters Ecclesiastical ' put forth by them and Dr. Mill,
Regius Professor of Hebrew at Cambridge, was entirely
approved of by Dr. Pusey, expressing as it did his view
that the Royal Supremacy ' is a supreme civil power over
the temporal accidents in spiritual things.'1 Still, it was
asked by many who scrupled to identify themselves with
any one of whose absolute antagonism to Rome they were
not certain, ' If the points contended for are not conceded
will these men pass over to Rome ? ' Dr. Pusey had been
elected, without his seeking it, a member of the Bristol
Church Union, and the Vice-President, the Rev. W.
Palmer, brought forward at this time a resolution very
strongly worded against Rome, and against ' reconciliation
or inter-communion ' with her under existing circumstances.
To this Dr. Pusey could not think of agreeing.
There are faulty and unfaithful approximations to Rome (he
wrote to Mr. Keble, September, 1850), and yet the general feeling
against Rome includes in it so much that we all believe and all
love. I do not see why we should not make faithfulness to the
English Church the basis of union. ... If we speak generally,
1 Two petitions to the Queen and the Archbishop of Canterbury, praying
that doctrine might be determined by a synod, of which the ruling should be
binding on temporal Courts, ' were headed by the venerable name of Dr.
Routh, President of Magdalen.' — Life, iii. pp. 244, 245.
2 A

354 DR. PUSEYS CONVICTION.
as Palmer does of ' corruptions,' we should not all mean the same
thing, and I should be thought to mean more than I do.
Again, the English Church has never said anything of the kind
about non-intercommunion with Rome. Some of our apologists,
at least, say that Rome separated from us, not we from her.
Mr. Keble, who was also a member of the Bristol
Church Union, was not so decided. He had expressed
even more strongly than his friend his feeling that neu
trality was the only position he could maintain ; but he
now feared simple people might be perplexed if there were
not some ' very moderate, but quite real, disavowal of Rome,'
and that those who wished to act with them had a 'fair
claim to it, after what has happened.'
Dr. Pusey could not give in, even to the friend he most
revered. It was ever in his mind that the bitter and
aggressive opponents of Rome had not been amongst
those steadfast in the English communion, and that such
bitterness was in itself unchristian, and could never work
for good. Mr. Keble felt he was right. ' I cannot join in
any anti-Roman declaration that I have yet seen,' he
wrote finally, ' not even in my own, now I find the terms
of it are equivocal.'
The result of his and Dr. Pusey's influence was that
Mr. Palmer's resolution was lost at Bristol, September 30,
' by an overwhelming majority ; ' x and when brought on
again in another form at the London Church Union
meeting (October 15), at St. Martin's Hall, Dr. Pusey's
great speech against 'the impropriety of making antago
nism to the Church of Rome the basis of religious union,'
caused the mover of the amendment to withdraw it.2
1 See Appendix.
s The address was listened to throughout with intense interest. . . . There

I8SI.1 SECESSIONS. 355
Mr. Allies and Mr. Maskell had passed to the Roman
communion, soon to be joined by Mr. Dodsworth and
Mr. Henry Wilberforce, and, in April, 1851, by Archdeacon
Manning. I send you a letter (Dr. Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble, September
23), to illustrate my question as to whether I should notice Dods
worth's statement about my Roman teaching. It dogs me wherever
I go ; at St. Barnabas, Freemasons' Hall, Torquay, Plymouth.
He had preached on the octave of the consecration of
St. Barnabas, Pimlico, Tuesday, June 18, 1850. Writing
of 'the contumely that the earlier Tractarians went
through,' Mrs. Brine says : —
When as a young girl I drove with my father to St. Barnabas,
Pimlico, where he was to preach one of the octave sermons, we
were met at a little distance from the church by some of the clergy,
who begged him not to drive up to it in my grandmother's carriage,
with her livery servants, lest it should be the signal for a disturbance
and for violence. My father and I were hustled, or rather smuggled
into the vestry, through which I was brought into the church. I
never shall forget the breathless state of tension which seemed to
prevail during the whole of the sermon, or the general startled
movement if there was the least sound at the door.
The decision in the Gorham case in 1850 had worsened
matters at Leeds ; Mr. Minster, whose health had broken
down, and who had obtained leave of absence for a
year, returned to find his curates inhibited and suspended,
and resigned the living. Dr. Pusey went to Leeds to see
was a minute of hushed silence ; and then the meeting burst into loud cheers,
which expressed better than any words the love and confidence which it felt
for the speaker. . . . The mover of the amendment rose, and in a few well-
chosen words asked permission to withdraw it, expressing at the same time a
hope that Pusey would give to the world the speech to which they had been
listening. — Life, iii. p. 282.

356 SECOND WRECK AT ST. SAVIOUR'S.
what could be done, and wrote to Mr. Keble on his return
home (March 23, 185 1) : —
I had a sad visit to St. Saviour's. It has again to be built up
from the foundation. The Bishop has cleared everything away ;
and I fear that two at least will (private) come back as Roman
priests with a Roman mission. One can only hope that among
the 7000, mostly poor and beset by temptation, there may be
room for both.
Before the end of the following month, all the St.
Saviour's clergy, with one exception, had been received
into the Roman communion. Dr. Pusey and Mr. Marriott
went to Leeds, and found the Rev. F. Beckett, one of
Mr. Minster's curates, alone at his post, but the mass
of the communicants unchanged in their loyalty to the
English communion. It was Passion-week ; and on Palm
Sunday Dr. Pusey was to preach to the congregation ; but
heart and strength had been too sorely tried, and before
the sermon he fainted away, and had to be carried out of
church. He did not despond.
I am well again (he wrote to his son), and amid much sorrow
have had much comfort. It has been a new scene to me. Boys,
mechanics, and mill-girls using confession; kneeling thankfully
for the blessing, and bound to the Church by a stronger bond than
that which bound them to their late pastors.
The Pope's Bull, in the autumn of 1850, "establishing
a new Roman Catholic Episcopate in England,' did not
make things easier for Dr. Pusey and his friends. This
'Papal aggression,' as it was called, roused the whole
country to fury, and caused a ferment as fanatical as it

1850.] THE 'papal aggression: 357
proved short-lived. But, while it lasted, the storm blew
fiercely against the Tractarians, and the Bishops took
the popular side — with one noble exception, the gallant
old Bishop of Exeter. He wrote about this time to
Dr. Pusey: —
Pray come to my house freely. I will not submit to the
humiliation of not receiving gladly a friend whom I so highly
value, because of the unjust clamours which ignorant or malicious
persons may raise.
Bishop Blomfield, in his Charge on November 2, 1850,
in St. Paul's Cathedral, made almost the words his own, in
which Dr. Pusey had been misrepresented by those who
had seceded to Rome, and though not mentioning him by
name, did not deny, in answering a letter from Dr. Pusey
on the subject, that he had him in his mind in what he
had said, especially on the subject of confession. The
Charge came as a heavy blow at a time when he was
already wearied out with all that the Gorham case, the
St. Saviour's troubles, and secessions to Rome had brought
upon him. In Dr. Liddon's words : —
Old friends were distant, and he met with hard words and cold
looks in quarters where a more generous and just estimate might
have been looked for. . . . His letters at this time are full of
expressions which show how thankful he would have been, as he
said in later years, had it pleased God, to be allowed to lie down
and die.1
Bishop Blomfield's Charge, however, was the occasion
of his great letter to the Bishop, which Dr. Liddon con
siders ' the most complete account and defence that he has
1 See Life, iii. pp. 292, 296, 297.

358 ATTACK FROM BISHOP WILBERFORCE.
given to the world of those features of teaching and practice
which are popularly associated with his name,' a and which,
patiently and in detail answering the charges brought
against him, and vindicating his teaching, contains passages
eloquent in strength, and in nobly restrained passion.2
Everything is against us now (he wrote November 21, 1851),
in answer to a letter of attack from Bishop Wilberforce. Every
one's faults are visited upon us. Lord John Russell, Presby
terians, all who hate the Church, are stirring up the mob against us.
Now his own Bishop (Wilberforce) joined in the outcry
against him, writing to him on the very day of Bishop
Blomfield's Charge, accusing him of effecting, through his
teaching, ' more than the labours of an open enemy, to
wean from the pure faith and simple ritual of our Church
the affection of many of those amongst her children, whose
zeal, tenderness, and devotion would, if properly guided,
make them eminent saints,' etc., etc.
Dr. Pusey's letter in reply, in which he maintained that
failure on the Bishops' part to reaffirm the Church's teach
ing after the Privy Council's decision in the Gorham case was
the chief cause of secessions to Rome, had no effect ; and
Bishop Wilberforce actually inhibited the man pre-eminent
in England for learning, piety, and entire devotion to the
English communion, from preaching in his diocese, except
1 See Life, iii. p. 297.
2 No summary can give an idea of its theological or spiritual strength, or
of the light which it throws on the temper and aims of its author. Pusey
states, with absolute freshness, all that in his teaching and practice was made
the ground of popular invective ; and he claims his right to do and teach all
that he avows. He brushes away with a strong but tender decision the mis
representations of fact or of motive which had gathered around his work and
life. — Ibid. iii. p. 298.

1 851.I DR. PUSEY ON CONFESSION. 359
at Pusey. On November 25 he wrote to Mr. Keble that
' after a long negotiation the Bishop of Oxford yesterday
consented to let me preach at Littlemore,' on the occasion
of his daughter's confirmation.
Bishop Wilberforce's chief grievance against Dr. Pusey
concerned his teaching and practice as to confession. It
was true, as he wrote for the Bishop's information, that he
' never sent away any who asked his advice,' but he added
that ' if he had to reproach himself, it was on the score of
being unable to give people who applied to him the
spiritual assistance they required.'
The following extracts from a letter written in 1853,
kindly placed at the present writer's disposal by one who
had consulted him on the subject, show how entirely
Bishop Wilberforce's accusations as to the ' minuteness
and details ' of Dr. Pusey's ' direction ' were founded on
figments of his own imagination, or mis-statements accepted
by him.
With regard to confession to man, it plainly cannot be wrong,
since Holy Scripture says, ' Confess your faults one to another,'
and our Lord says, ' Whose sins ye do remit, they are remitted
unto them.' The Church has always understood this of remission
through the priest. It seems at first only to have been used in
cases of very grievous sin. But this affects the necessity of it, not
its validity if used. Our Church does not think it necessary in all
cases, because the Church of old did not use it at all. She leaves
it free to her children because it was left free of old. . . .
Our business is to teach people to walk, not to be crutches to
them. But if they want a crutch, we must be that crutch, until
they can walk. There is, I fear, an inclination among some to
talk too much about their not ' doing anything without their
spiritual guide,' whereas I suppose those who so talk please them
selves the most. But there is no necessary connection between

360 LETTERS ON CONFESSION.
what is called ' guidance ' and confession. A person confesses his
sins in order to obtain authoritative forgiveness of God, and grace
through absolution. He naturally receives advice how to set
about subduing his sins. But then he is free to ask or not to ask
about other things, as he likes ; and our business is to give people
principles, by which they should guide themselves, or to answer
cases of conscience, not to regulate the details of a life, which,
after all, a sensible person can regulate for herself. . . .
I would not recommend the use of confession as * discipline.'
Its object is forgiveness of sins, not training, or a deep sense of
sin. Above all things, avoid any acting upon your own feelings, or
thinking much of them. People harass themselves very much by
this, and even hinder what they wish. A deeper sense of sin, a
deeper repentance, are the gifts of God. He will give them if we
pray for them, and as we turn away more resolutely, by His grace,
from what displeases Him. He gives them in some degree, as we
meditate on His love and holiness, and view our sins in detail, as
contrary to that holiness and love, or in meditating on the Passion
of our Blessed Lord. But even then our object must not be to
obtain sensible devotion, but to gain, through His grace, deeper
love of Him — which He will enlarge, even though at the time we
see it not — and a deeper aversion from all sin.
To the wife of a very dear friend x he wrote on the same
subject : —
Be assured that I have real interest in you and in all who are
in earnest about their souls, and would gladly help any one in any
way that I can, and you especially, since I have now been so
much with you and your children and those you love, and love
your husband much 
It is a great work to look through a whole life, and requires
much time. When a person has earnestly set about it God accepts
it. Delays, which are in order to do it better, are approved by
Him. All should come from Him. I do not suggest it to persons,
1 Letter undated, but must have been written a little earlier than the one
which precedes it.

i86i.] LETTERS ON CONFESSION. 36 1
except to the sick. It is best when the desire comes from Him.
People then feel the want of it most deeply. They long more for
His grace and favour, and He gives it them. . . .
As for those definite thoughts such as that ' one so insignificant
as I cannot be meant for immortaHty,' the best way is not to think
of them as doubts, but to turn to God, as St. Paul does, ' O the
depth of the riches of the wisdom and the knowledge of God ! '
The love of God is too great to understand and to grasp, for
it is infinite. It would be too great to believe, only He Who is
the Truth has said it. Let us then wonder and be amazed at it,
while we beHeve in it. This is the feeling God would work in
you by it. ' Can it be ? ' might be the question of wondering love
at the infinite and unutterable love of God, or it might be doubt.
When the question comes, let us thank God that it is, and then
the feeling will be, not doubt, but admiring love.
By no means keep away from Holy Communion. Do not
account it unbelief. You are not responsible for thoughts darted
into you. But turn them all into a brief momentary prayer, and at
Holy Communion pray that our dear Lord when He comes under
your roof would give you deeper love of Him. You will find it
altogether one of the greatest changes of life to learn — it will be
slowly — to turn everything into occasions of momentary prayer,
just lifting up the thoughts to God. It will be fresh light and
life to your soul.
Whatever you want, pray God for it. We cannot give our
selves repentance or faith or love. Pray God again and again,
and He will give them to you.
Repentance is shown by watchfulness not to fall again into the
sins which we repent of.
I do bless God for the work which He has begun in you. It
makes one's heart glad, and the holy angels also. Pray God, and
He wiU complete it and carry it on to the end.
In vain Dr. Pusey asked many times to be heard by
the Bishop, and at least to be told the facts which had
caused the inhibition. A personal interview was refused,
and Mr. Keble came forward to defend his friend. To

362 MR. KEBLE AND BISHOP WILBERFORCE.
him the two causes of offence mentioned categorically
by the Bishop were, the ' adapted ' books of devotion, and
' the tone of Dr. Tusey's spiritual direction.' The corre
spondence continued for more than a year. In noticing
a letter of the Bishop's to Dr. Pusey, Mr. Keble wrote
(June 2, 1851) : —
There is no end of the mischief it may do. I mean, if I can
write, to write him an expostulation to-night. ... I shall tell him
my strong opinion of the falseness of his position on three points :
confession, the Eucharist, and penal satisfaction. . . .
I own to you, his letter appears to me perfectly scandalous in
point of learning and theology, yet so adapted, lawyer-like, to the
state of men's minds, as to be capable of doing very great harm.
Ever your most loving, J.K.
I wish I was a fairy to send him a rosary, on which he should
he forced to say the 119th Psalm (which he calls a choral hymn)
every day of his life.
Look at the 23rd arid 161st verses of it, my dearest Pusey. '
In the letter which Mr. Keble wrote to the Bishop on
the following day, June 3, 185 1, he goes to the outside of
what he felt his age made fitting of strong remonstrance
from a priest to a bishop —
If I were not, as I am (he says), compelled to differ from your
lordship on almost every one of your statements and opinions on
these matters, I should, I am sure, be made very sad — excuse me,
I am now in my sixtieth year — by the tone into which you have
fallen in dealing with them. . . . What I wish to do is, most
earnestly to beseech your lordship to reconsider the matter before
you make it a condition of the ministry that a person shall deny
all real Presence in the Eucharist, except in the faithful receiver.
. . . Again, with regard to auricular confession; with all due
respect, I wholly dispute and challenge the legal right of any

1851.I MR. KEBLE'S REMONSTRANCE. 363
bishop or synod of bishops to limit the discretion of English
priests as to whom they shall admit or move to confession in the
way now claimed.
In a letter to the Bishop ten days later Mr. Keble
expresses his conviction that Dr. Pusey had been —
the greatest drag upon those who were rushing towards Rome, . . .
as by other ways, so especially by showing them that all their
reasonable yearnings are sufficiently provided for in the English
system rightly understood.
It is no answer to this (he added) to say that a great many of
those who go attribute their going to Pusey and his teaching ; they
must do so for the credit of their logic ; it is but another manner
of saying that antiquity led them that way. And some of them, I
believe, make it a point of duty to drive him up, if they can, into
a corner, expecting that he will be forced to follow them. But
whether I am right or wrong in these opinions, it is plainly unjust
and cruel to inflict such a disgrace and disability upon him with
out giving him the chance, so far as it may be done, of clearing
himself. Over and over again Dr. Pusey urged upon the Bishop
that if tendencies or doctrines were imputed to him con
trary to the Articles, the only just course was to bring the
matter into an ecclesiastical court.
If (he wrote) your lordship would be hindered by the expense
— having so many other calls upon your income — I would offer to
pay your expenses were you to prosecute me. If I have taught
anything contrary to the Church of England, I have no wish to
avoid being convicted; but I do deprecate any extra-judicial
condemnation. He maintained that ' if the Bishop was not prepared
to say that his doctrine and practice were opposed to that

364 THE VERDICT OF TIME.
of the Church of England, the inhibition ought to be
removed.' *
Time has vindicated him. It would never then have
been believed, when his name was cast out as evil, when
the powers of Church and State alike denounced his
teaching, that — even as these pages are written — the
leader of the House of Commons should, in an important
speech in Parliament, have mentioned his name as repre
senting the 'great body of moderate opinion in this
country,' during 'the great High Church movement
associated with the names of Mr. Keble and Dr. Pusey.' 2
The result of Mr. Keble's letters and of an interview
with him was that the Bishop determined not to publish a
pamphlet he had written in the form of a letter, announcing
publicly the inhibition (which had hitherto been supposed
to be private) and justifying it. He had some months before
stated that 'it extended to all public ministrations,' but
that, ' for the present it would be removed as an inhibition,'
on the understanding that Dr. Pusey would ' respect his
wishes.'3 Nothing could be less satisfactory to Dr.
Pusey. I understand (he wrote July 9) your lordship's proposition
now to be, that I should remain without officiating in the parochial
churches in your lordship's diocese, in compliance with your
lordship's wish. But I suppose, my Lord, that you do not mean
by a ' wish ' an expression which I am at liberty not to comply
with. So then it would only be an ' inhibition ' under a gentler
name. 1 Life, iii. p. 319.
8 See Right Hon. Arthur Balfour's speech in a debate on Ritual, the
Times, April 12, 1899.
3 See Life, iii. p. 307.

1851.] BISHOP WILBERFORCE'S INHIBITION. 365
One wonders how he can stand against it x (Mr. Keble wrote
to his friend, July 8, of the Bishop). As far as I can remember,
what I said to him in the train was, in substance, that the less he
did, the less mischief, and so far, that secret inhibition was better
than public, but that I did not know how it might strike you.
Now it appears there is no chance of secrecy. I found people
. . . rather full of the subject.
Bishop Wilberforce found, apparently, that in Mr. Keble,
Mr. Gladstone, and Judge Coleridge, there were stronger
advocates against his line of action than he had expected
— the latter especially urging him to consider before it was
too late ' the danger of proclaiming by his inhibition that
Pusey's teaching was incompatible with membership in the
Church of England.' Writing to Mr. Keble, Mr. Gladstone
entirely agreed with him in feeling that ' the Bishop's interest
and influence for good were mainly at stake} and that ' Dr.
Pusey's influence would be increased, but increased in a
sense (despite of himself) from which mischief and danger '
were 'inseparable.' Through all, Dr. Pusey maintained
firmly the principle which he expressed to Mr. Gladstone,
in a letter of July 25, that, while ' any bishop has a right
to forbid any clergyman from officiating in his diocese,'
Bishop Wilberforce, if finally expressing a wish he should
not preach, ' ought to say publicly what he says privately,
that he does not think that I exceed the bounds allowed
by the English Church.'
The Bishop evidently became aware that to maintain
his position was a more serious task than he had expected,
and that he could not safely carry matters with so high a
hand. The adapted books were the great offence in his eyes.
1 A letter of Dr. Pusey's.

366 EPISCOPAL COLOURS LOWERED.
Avillon's ' Guide to Lent ' was out of print, and Dr. Pusey
had not intended to reprint it ; but of the ' Spiritual
Combat ' and ' Paradise of the Christian Soul,' Mr. Keble
wrote to him (July 29, 185 1), 'You must on no account
withdraw those two books ; ' and Dr. Pusey replied to
Mr. Gladstone, who had suggested some compromise on
the subject, that he could not be a party to a scandal
against himself which he believed to be unfounded. To
his elder brother he also wrote, ' / do not retract anything
which I have published! and that to do so would 'unsettle
hundreds of minds who use the books, and would not
know what to believe and what not'
The Bishop was too acute not to perceive that he must
lower his colours. He did not accede to Dr. Pusey's
entreaties for an interview, but he did not refuse, when they
met at a Confirmation, in August, to confer with him on
the subjects at issue between them. Nor did he publish
his inhibition, which had, however, become very well
known; and, in his Charge in November, 185 1, expres
sions of disapproval of principles and work which plainly
applied to Dr. Pusey, were 'kindly and respectful.'
In April, 1852, Dr. Pusey sent him a lengthy reply to
certain passages regarding himself in the Appendix to the
published Charge, ending with the appeal : —
And now, my dear Lord, after making this explanation, I
would ask whether I may not be left free as to the office of
preaching within your lordship's diocese. I have publicly said
that I did not and would not preach against the expressed wish
of a bishop.
The answer to this letter was that 'in view of Pusey's
recent University sermons, his private assurances to the

1852.] INHIBITION REMOVED. 367
Bishop of the nature and strength of his anti-Roman
convictions and efforts, and the large liberty allowed to our
clergy in an opposite direction, the Bishop did not feel
that he could do otherwise than set Pusey free as he
requested.'1 It is impossible, in telling the story of separate events,
that they should not occasionally overlap each other as to
dates ; but it must be remembered that the troubles caused
by the Gorham judgment, by the secessions at St. Saviour's,
Leeds, and by Bishop Wilberforce's proceedings, were all
going on at the same time, from the beginning of 1847,
when Mr. Macmullen joined the Roman communion, until
the end of 185 1. 1 Life, iii. p. 326.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XIX.
In 1883, Sir W. Palmer, as he then was, wrote : —
I must confess that Pusey's proceedings as the self-constituted
leader of the Tractarian party often caused to me very great
uneasiness. ... I should have gladly seen Pusey attempt to
reform mistakes introduced by Newman, and endeavouring to
correct, instead of seeming to go along with, the ultra-Tractarian
mistakes. . . . But in the end I became satisfied that the position
he occupied was for the good of the Church. He advocated and
allowed of nothing that was actually wrong, nothing which was
not open to considerations of expediency. He had to control
a very uncertain party, open to Newman's influence for some
time — a party which was unsettled in principle and might easily
be driven into secession. I believe that under Divine Providence
his work was overruled to the great purpose of gradually steadying
in the faith, and making available for the service of the Church,
abilities and energies which, if harshly and rudely treated, and cut
off from sympathy (as many sincere Christians desired), would
have proved a source of weakness to religion, instead of a source
of strength ; and under these impressions I cannot but regard in
Pusey a great benefactor of the Church of England.1
1 Supplement to A Narrative of Events, etc., etc., by Sir W. Palmer
(Rivingtons), pp. 240, 241.

CHAPTER XX.
HOME JOYS AND SORROWS.
1852-1858.
Uomini furo, accesi di quel caldo
Che fa nascere i fiori e i frutti santi.
Paradiso, c. xxii.
After the return of his young daughter from school, in
1848, to live at home, the vacations were generally spent
by Dr. Pusey at his old home, where she could enjoy Lady
Emily's motherly care.
The visits to Pusey were always my happiest days (she writes).
Besides spending vacations there, Uncle Philip often sent over his
phaeton and pair of cobs to fetch my father and me for a visit
from Saturday to Monday. He always seemed a different person
as soon as Oxford streets were left behind, enjoying driving him
self (being quite at home with the reins) over the old twelve miles
of road to his boyhood's home, knowing every stick and stone on
the way. Then, when we arrived at Pusey, and settled in our
own dear special sitting-room, looking out on the terrace, his
delight was to throw open the window, and listen to the cawing of
the rooks, recalling his boyish days. It seemed always to make
him ten years younger at once ; it was home to him always. The
room on the second floor, which had been his in his Eton days,
was kept ready for his use, and was always called ' Mr. Edward's
room.' It is shown now to visitors.
He used to look so much less careworn when seated by Aunt

370 VISITS TO PUSEY.
Emily at dinner, talking quietly to her. She was very quiet and
dignified, possessed singular tact and perception, and knew how to
draw him out, thoroughly understanding, loving, and reverencing
him. I remember that the chaplain at Buckland1 used to be
asked to dinner to meet my father ; and my uncle always asked
others, whom he cared to see, to meet him ; but I liked Pusey
best when we were alone, and that he could enjoy the complete
abandon of home life. Then he sometimes became quite boyish
in his intercourse with Uncle Philip ; the brotherly badinage that
used to go on did my father good.
Uncle Philip was a most untidy, careless carver; the old
family servants were privileged to express opinions, and I shall
never forget my father's amusement, one day when there was a
sucking-pig at table, and that a request came up to him, which
had been whispered by the butler to my uncle, ' might Dr. Pusey
carve the pig, as it is so much better and more neatly carved if he
does it?'
During the spring of 1852 Dr. Pusey was much occupied
with the question of lay representation in Synods. He
was consulted about it by the Bishop of Exeter and others ;
both with regard to the revival of Convocation (which met
in November, 1852, after an interval of 135 years), and to
proposals as to extension of power to the laity in the
Scotch Church.
His principles on the subject were very clear, founded,
as usual, on those of the undivided Church, and ought to
be briefly summarized in his own words. Writing to Mr.
Keble, he says : ' A bishop would be wise who should not
order anything throughout his diocese without ascertaining
the mind of the laity.' He then quotes St. Cyprian's
celebrated words to his laity : ' I have determined ever
1 Sir Nicholas Throckmorton's chaplain. The Throckmortons, an old
Roman Catholic family, were close friends of the Puseys.

1852.] LAITY IN SYNODS. 371
since the beginning of my Episcopate to do nothing
without your judgment had,' and adds, 'i.e. nothing of a
practical nature, for, at the same time, all principles of
discipline or matters of doctrine were ruled without them.'
Again, he writes of the absence of ancient authority for
' majorities binding minorities, which would issue in 'the
Bishop himself being 'governed by them (the shepherd
by the sheep).'
To Mr. Gladstone he wrote (January 19, 1852): —
I look with perfect dismay at the prospect of lay legislation
in matters of faith. . . . The laity ought to have a voice in the
nomination of the bishops, which is now political, in the hands of
the Prime Minister. They ought clearly to have a negative voice.
But it is an ill compensation to give them direct authority in
matters of faith (which they never had), because they have not the
indirect influence [over appointments] which they ought to have.1
On the question of admitting laymen to Synods with
out allowing them to vote as to doctrine or discipline, he
wrote to Mr. Keble : — ¦
To admit them into Synods, and then exclude them from what
is to both parties of most real interest, will, I am persuaded, never
hold. ... I look with terror on any admission of laity into Synods.
It at once invests them with an ecclesiastical office, which will
develop itself sooner or later, I believe, to the destruction of the
faith. To Dr. Skinner, the Primus of Scotland, he wrote
(May 15, 1852):—
I would rather burn my right hand than sign or have any part
in that resolution. ... It is a known fact that, however laity
1 In a letter from Mr. Keble to Dr. Pusey (August, 1850), he expresses his
feeling that in a non-established communion the laity ought to have some
' constitutional ' influence. ' Only,' he adds, ' it should not be in Convocation,
but in election of bishops.'

372 A GENEROUS REVENGE.
were admitted to be present at Councils on the faith, they were
never (whether emperors or others) admitted to have a voice as
to the decisions on the faith. ... If the Church of the United
States has admitted the laity to a voice in deciding on matters of
faith, I believe that her bishops have abandoned a trust committed
to them, and, sooner or later, tliey must suffer by it. ... I believe
no abandonment of a trust can be without evil consequences,
sooner or later. . . . There is not only the negative evidence of
the absence of the laity from the Synods, but the positive declara
tions of those most in authority, the Emperor, that they, as being
laymen, had no voice in matters of faith.
Time brings many opportunities for generous revenges ;
and when, in April, 1852, the Report of a Royal Commission,
appointed to ' inquire into the state, discipline, studies, and
revenues of the University and Colleges of Oxford,' came
out, the Heads of Houses found that they had done them
selves no good by their proceedings seven years previously
with regard to Dr. Pusey's condemned sermon, and that
the best thing they could now do was to fight behind his
shield in resisting a measure which, 'as a whole, was
regarded as designed to make over the control of the
University to a body in which Crown nominees would
exert a preponderating influence.'
' I have read the Report of the Heads of Houses,'
Dr. Newman wrote after it came out, ' and smiled to find
that, after all the rubs they had given you, they were
at last obliged to have recourse to you as their best
champion.' Dr. Pusey was at one with the Heads in believing the
changes recommended in the Report of the Royal Com
mission to be mischievous, although this was not the case
with many of his best friends — sanguine as to the result of

1852.] PROFESSORIAL AND COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 373
liberal measures, and unable to ' understand Pusey's effort
to save the Hebdomadal Board,' which 'had checked so
triumphantly the progress of Puseyism by sentences of
suspension and degradation at the same time that it
allowed Rationalism full swing, by accepting without a
word the Bampton Lectures of 185 1.'1
But Dr. Pusey saw deeper into the heart of things, and
perceived ' that the two really important questions raised
by the Report were whether Oxford education should be
collegiate or professorial, and whether it should be lay or
clerical.' 2
He contributed, as he wrote to Mr. Keble, 'a long,
elaborate essay of 170 close octavo pages' to a Report
adopted by the Hebdomadal Board, in answer to that of
the Royal Commissioners,3 being persuaded, from his
intimate knowledge of German Universities, that the pro
fessorial system issued in the lectures of their greatest
Professors being 'successively illustrations of influences
which had only existed to die away ; ' and that ' nothing
had remained beyond the impression that nothing was
certain.' Yet the system (he wrote in his 'Evidence of Professorial
Lectures in Theology ') i had been going on since the Reformation ;
year by year, lectures had been given in all the different Chairs
of Germany : but wave had followed wave, and all had dis
appeared. I recollect the mutual surprise when the more
thoughtful among them learnt from me that in England we
studied chiefly old books, and I learnt from them that they used
1 Life, iii. p. 393. s Ibid. iii. p. 381.
* Men who did not sympathize with its drift and object could not but
acknowledge the proof it afforded of vast and varied knowledge, of intellectual
acumen, and of a grasp ofthe main points at issue. — Ibid. iii. p. 381.
* In Report of Hebdomadal Board.

374 INTELLECTUAL TEMPTATIONS.
none. If they asked of me how we studied theology, they were
surprised to hear of standard, solid writers of the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries, as Hooker or Bull, Butler or Pearson, and
they said, 'That is something beautiful.' It was to me, at that
time, something strange and mournful that they had no past.
He held, however, very strongly that it was right that
Oxford ' should enlarge her studies, by taking in, in their
order and degree, those parts of study which can be com
bined with her system, and which may help to expand,
cultivate, strengthen, consolidate, and, if rightly used,
elevate the mind.' Only, as he wrote in reply to Professor
Vaughan's strictures on his ' Evidence ' —
The intellect . . . has its trials as well as the moral powers
of man. Pride of intellect, or self-confidence, is a more subtle
evil than the coarser passions. People have justified intellectually
the indulgence of their passions, . . . they cannot mistake as to
the existence of their passions, or the fact that they give way
to them. People are very commonly mistaken and ignorant as
to their intellectual faults or sins.1
To the end of his life he never ceased to remind his
friends of this truth, counting the yielding to outward
temptations less evil than an interior habit of self-conceit
or self-confidence. 'The one,' he was wont to say,
instancing over-indulgence in food or drink, 'was through
poor human infirmity ; ' the other, a lifting-up of the spirit
of the creature, taking to itself the honour belonging to
the Creator. ' What hast thou that thou hast not received ? '
seemed always in his mind, both with regard to himself
and others.
He was at Asherne in the autumn of 1852, preparing a
1 Collegiate and Professorial Teaching and Discipline, p. 73.

1853.] SECOND SERMON ON THE EUCHARIST. 375
University sermon on the Holy Eucharist, not now as
' a comfort to the penitent,' but, he wrote to Mr. Keble,
' to set forth to young men the greatness of the mystery,
that they may be more careful to live as they should, to
whom such gifts are vouchsafed.' As to the probable
attitude of the authorities towards the sermon, he says in
a letter from Asherne, October 16 : —
If Dr. Faussett, etc., let it pass, then there is a gain, not for
myself (which does not matter), but for the doctrine. At the
same time, they put Dr. F., etc., in a trying position. If they pass
it, they own that they were wrong before in not giving me a hear
ing, whereby I might have cleared whatever in my sermon seemed
to them unsound.
He wrote again to Mr. Keble on December 15, that, in
his opinion,
— those at Oxford are a good deal more accustomed to the
doctrines than they were. When it was preached, too, we were a
strong, concentrated, aggressive body, and they had settled to put
down some one ! And now, truth is more widely spread ; but we
are weak and broken and forsaken by so many; and I do not
think that they wish to attack us.
On January 16, 1853, Dr. Pusey preached in the
University pulpit, restating all the doctrine taught, ten
years previously, in the condemned sermon, and defining
it with even greater distinctness. But he wrote next day
to Mr. Keble—
No bad report as yet about my sermon, so I hope all good.
Harington, Principal of B. N. C, said, ' They cannot attack him
this time. He has guarded himself too well.' ... If they are
peaceful, may I not look upon it as a retraction of their former
attack ?

376 DR. PUSEY ON THE NEW COUNCIL.
In August, 1853, he replied to a letter from Mr. Keble,
written in much anxiety, about the Rev. Robert Wilber
force, who, a few months later, joined the Roman com
munion. He has not shown that it x was reserved in order to be adored,
or was adored when reserved. It was 'reserved' for the sick
only. The only mention of adoration is just before reception.
' The adoration of Christ present in the Holy Eucharist ' when
communicating is very different from the reservation of the con
secrated elements in order to maintain a special presence of
Christ that He may be so adored.
But, in any case, the Church of England plainly only maintains
that our Lord did not institute it for this end, and the Council of
Trent admits the same. . . .
In Art. 31 the animus ofthe Article seemed to me the more
directed against abuses from the very strength of the words. It
is all one sentence down to ' pain and guilt ; ' and surely it is a
fact that people often did and do trust more to the saying of
masses for their souls when departed than to diligence in using
the grace of Christ when alive.
Moreover, at the first election of the new Council (under
the University Reform Act), in October, 1854, which was
to consist of six Heads, six Professors, and six members
of Congregation, Dr. Pusey's name was second on the
list of Professors ; and henceforth, for more than twenty-
five years, he gave himself to the duties which his seat on
the Council involved, in spite of the serious inroads on
his time : Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from one to
four o'clock being ' occupied by Council.'
' I have made a discovery,' said Dr. Jeune, the Master
of Pembroke, 'since I have been in Council. I always
1 The Blessed Sacrament.

1854-1 LETTER OF COUNSEL. $77
thought of Pusey as a mere theologian ; I find he is an
admirable man of business.'
Dr. Liddon records that allthe time in Council 'was
not lost to the work of his Chair and theology generally.
He always went to the meetings of Council armed with
a packet of letters to be answered, or slips of proofs to
be corrected ; and when any subject was being discussed
in which he felt no strong interest, or rather to which he
could contribute nothing, he at once began to work as
though he had been in his study at Christ Church. He
had a remarkable faculty of concentrating himself on such
work, and yet all the while keeping a vigilant outlook on
what was going forward. . . . Many of his spiritual letters
to Sisters of Mercy and others were written in Council.' J
One, which the writer is allowed to give, may have
been written in moments thus rescued : —
I do not fear your want of repentance, as I do lest you should
waste His present mercies. I hear that you have been suffering
much from ill health. God knows, alone, whether your life will
be one of active or of passive service. But service it must be
from a creature to its God. Ill health has often more acceptable,
more edifying, service than strength. In action self readily mixes
itself up ; in suffering we have but to lie still and wait on God.
They say ' an ounce of well-suffering is better than a pound of
well-doing.' Only, whichever is your lot — or the suffering first,
the doing afterwards, perhaps — make God your End, whether in
suffering or doing for His sake. . . . Live for God and for eternity.
Time is too precious and too short to waste in regrets. Every
minute as it passes comes loaded with fresh mercies, fresh grace,
fresh means of being acceptable to God, and being prepared for
His everlasting love. Never mind how you feel, what you think
of yourself. Give yourself to God as His, in whatever condition
1 Life, iii. pp. 405, 406.

378 MARY PUSEYS MARRIAGE.
of life He wills. ... I suppose the question with you is, Do I
repent enough, or will God accept this dry repentance ? He has
and does. He loves you with all His infinite love. ... He does
not wait for us to be good, to love us : He loves us bad, to make
us good. It would be far better not to analyze your repentance
at all . . . but to tell your Father that you desire to be sorry, for
love of Him, that you ever offended Him. Think of all the love
He had for you, in creating — redeeming you — which He has now
for you. Dwell not on the past, or on yourself, but on His
amazing love, and thank Him and bless Him for it. . . . Think
of the infinite love of God for you, and fear not.
Early in 1854 Mary Pusey was engaged to the Rev.
J. G. Brine, and her father wrote to his son : —
April 15, 1854.
So you and I are to be alone soon, my dearest Philip.
We must see what will be best to be done. It will be strange in
that large house, so often so full, to be two solitary beings.
However — Who hath the Father and the Son
May be left, but not alone.
She was married, by her father, at Christ Church Cathe
dral, on July 13, 1854.
Dr. Pusey believed, at this time, that his own life
would not be a long one, and he had always looked to
his beloved sister-in-law, Lady Emily Pusey, to take a
mother's place to his child, should he leave her unmarried.
But before the end of this year Lady Emily was at rest
All through this summer and autumn Dr. Pusey was in
constant attendance on her who had been more to him
in sympathy and fellow-feeling than any other relation.
'It is impossible to say how great a comfort I have in
him,' she wrote in her diary, on September 6, 1854, and

1855.] DEATH OF LADY EMILY PUSEY. 379
two days later, ' At half-past seven Dr. Pusey gave us the
Holy Communion, and was obliged to return to Oxford
at eight o'clock, before breakfast.'
Through October there are notices of her in his letters
to Mr. Keble.
I am still lingering on here : our good Lord has still something
for my dear sister here : she loses strength so gradually that no
one can think when the close will be, though it does not seem far
off. . . . From her I hear nothing but thankfulness.
Of her husband he wrote : —
I cannot speak to him about the sorrow which is hanging
over him. I can only hope that God will prepare him gradually.
Early in November he reported : —
My stay here is prolonged: Emily is staying longer with us
than seemed likely a little while ago. I suppose that it may even
be until the close of this year. It is the gentler parting for my
poor brother : he too was giving way physically, which makes me
the more anxious to be with him.
On November 1 3 he wrote to his son : —
She fell asleep gently this morning at 8.30. She had been
dying since two o'clock; but said, 'Death has no pain. It is,
indeed, swallowed up in victory.' A most peaceful end of a holy,
blameless life.1
After her death,2 Dr. Pusey ' was in constant attendance
day and night' on the widowed husband, who, in a desola
tion and grief more than ordinary, clung to and leant upon
him entirely, and ' could hardly be persuaded to allow him
1 Life, iii. p. 413.
2 To Pusey the death of his sister-in-law was a great personal sorrow.
Her distinction of mind and character, but especially the earnestness with
which she had thrown herself into the cause which he had most deeply at
heart, had made her very dear to him. — Ibid. iii. p. 413.

380 DEATH OF MR. PUSEY.
to go into the next room.' Mr. Pusey returned, after the
funeral, with his brother to Oxford. All who knew Dr.
Pusey's Christ Church home will remember the large and
beautiful drawing-room, and the adjoining bedroom, which
had been his wife's apartments, and which he never entered.
He overcame this feeling in order to be with his brother,
who occupied them for nine months, but as a dying man.
A week after he came to Oxford, a paralytic stroke, from
which he never recovered, laid him low ; there was a second
stroke in June, 1855, and on July 9 he was at rest.
During this sad summer Dr. Pusey also lost the in
valuable help of the Rev. Charles Marriott, suddenly
struck down by paralysis in June, the same month that
Mr. Pusey's second stroke occurred. From the time of
Newman's secession he had been Dr. Pusey's trusted
counsellor, helper, and most intimate friend, contributing
more than any one, except Mr. Keble, 'to enable him to
sustain the burden of his position.' He appears to have
possessed a very unusual degree of sweetness,, with calm
and strong judgment, self-devotion, and self-effacement.
His initials took the place of ' J. H. N.,' in conjunction with
those of Mr. Keble and Dr. Pusey, in short prefaces to
devotional books, etc. He lived, an invalid, until
September, 1858, but was no longer able to work.1
In the Preface to St. Augustine on the Psalms, Dr.
Pusey writes of him : —
Full of activity in the cause of truth and religious knowledge,
full of practical benevolence, expending himself, his strength, his
paternal inheritance, in works of piety and charity, in one night
his labour was closed, and he was removed from active duty to
1 He had given invaluable help in editing the Library of the Fathers.

1858.J THE CHRIST CHURCH HOME. 38 1
wait in stillness for his Lord's last call. ... To those who knew
him best, it has been a marvel how, with health so frail, he was
enabled in such various ways, and for so many years, to do active
good in his generation. Early called, and ever obeying the call,
he has been allowed both active duty and an early rest.
It was a great interest and pleasure to Dr. Pusey to
take a father's place to his brother's children — Sidney,
who was fifteen, and his sisters, Edith and Clara.1 The
two latter came to live at Christ Church.
From the moment of our father's death (the younger wrote),
and ever since, he was a father to us, and such a father as falls to
the lot of few. As time went on, and the mourning for my father
was over, my uncle became very anxious to make it a cheerful
place, and encouraged us to give little parties in the drawing-room,
at which Mrs. Liddell or some other lady presided. Sometimes
we had music and choruses, etc., which delighted my uncle; and
he would say next day, ' You were very lively last night ; I could
hear the voices.' Nothing ever disturbed him or came amiss.2
He was also unbounded in hospitality to their friends,
some of whom were, of course, his own old neighbours and
friends at Pusey. Amongst the most intimate and valued
of these were the Throckmortons of Buckland, which was
about a mile from Pusey House. Miss Throckmorton has
kindly sent some recollections of a visit to Christ Church
about this time, though uncertain of the exact date.
My father 3 was much attached to Dr. Pusey, as well as to his
eldest brother at Pusey, and probably saw him often when I did
not, though I occasionally saw him at Oxford, as in those days we
often drove there, either with guests, or to lunch with some of the
1 Miss Clara Pusey married, in 1862, Captain Fletcher (of the Fletchers
of Saltoun). 1 Life, iii. p. 414.
3 Sir Nicholas Throckmorton. He died in 1863.

382 VISIT FROM OLD FRIENDS.
young men of our acquaintance, the many Herberts among others.
I stayed at Dr. Pusey's for Commemoration week in, probably,
1838, when Clara seemed to do the honours. He was wonderfully
pleasant and genial with us, young and gay as we were in those
days, and inquired about our balls and gaieties so kindly and
genially. We did not return from the great ball of the week till
nearly six o'clock, in broad daylight, and had breakfast very late
that morning, when he came into the dining-room and asked with
interest about our doings, saying that he heard us all come home.
I expressed regret that we should have disturbed his sleep, but he
laughed and said that he was already up and reading.
One thing I have always recollected ; on our arrival he came
to the door to receive me, with Clara ; escorted us upstairs, opened
the drawing-room door, ushered us in, and remained for a few
minutes talking, and giving a sort of programme of the hours and
festivities. Clara told me afterwards that she was quite dazed on
seeing him go into the room, which he never entered since the
death of his wife.1 It must have been a great trial, and required
much self-control ; but his courtesy did not allow him to evade it.
My impression was, and has always remained, that we were
received like royalty ; the courtesy, the anxiety that everything
should be as we liked, and his personal care of our comfort, was
far more than common civility.
Amongst recollections which the writer is kindly allowed
to use, one writes : —
I remember, when staying at his house, returning from a dance
or some party, and his meeting us, and taking me, with my uncle,
to see that picture of our Lord's Head crowned with thorns, which
always, to the end of his Ufe, stood on a sideboard at one end of
what was then the dining-room, and had folding-panels which
covered it. He opened them, and told us he had always had a
wish to possess one really good painting, and that his elder brother
' Mrs. Pusey had died in that room. Dr. Pusey had, however, watched
there over his brother during the few months he lived after Lady Emily's
death.

1858.] KINDNESS TO THE YOUNG. 383
had brought this to him from Spain ; my uncle, a good judge of
painting, admired it much. I used to run about his house in those
days, climbing out of the attic windows with Mary to sit on the
roof, and going to parties with her ; but was never in her dear
father's presence without a feeling of intense reverence and con
siderable fear, in spite of his kindness in spending time, money,
and trouble in arranging things for our amusement. How little
we knew the burden of anxiety then pressing on him ! Still, I
always flew off if a tHe-a-teie seemed likely : one day, however,
when escaping out of his study after morning prayers, he called
me back, to my intense terror. Then he talked to me as no
one ever had before, and tried to make me talk to him. He
used to take it for granted that young ones must want to learn
about the spiritual life, and you know how he would try to draw
them out, and to make them feel there was only one thing of
importance in the world, and that they must naturally wish, above
all things, to learn about that, and to seek to those who could tell
them about it. He made me feel (like Don Abbondio with
Cardinal Federigo Borromeo) as a chicken might whom a hawk
had seized, and soared with it into air where it could hardly
breathe. Yet he made one long to be able to breathe freely in
those regions. No one ever made quite the same impression on
me ; he made me always think how much he must love God — he
seemed to think of nothing else.
The very young are apt to take kindness without wonder at
it ; I did not marvel then, as I do now, thinking, ' Who but he
would have sought out and tried to win the confidence of a silly,
ignorant child — sparing neither time nor trouble if only he might
do her good — urging her to write to him, — at a time when he
must have been bearing an immense pressure of cares and
anxieties, Dr. Newman having long left us, and the chief burden
resting upon him.' He never changed — it was the same to the
end — no time grudged, not only in trying to make one better, but
even to anything that might give greater comfort and happiness.
He could not bear to see one in any trouble or unhappiness.
He says in one of his earliest notes : —
' Nothing should cloud your soul. God made you in all that
jnfinite love. It is not a long passage. It is but to serve Him,

384 LOVE OF CHILDREN.
surrounded by His love, for these few years, and then, for Jesus'
sake, to enter into that everlasting love whose depths no creature,
in all eternity, though ever perceiving more and more, would ever
reach; nay, from whose depths it would be as far removed as
ever. For they are infinite. Lift up your heart, then, my dearest
child. Now you seem to have domestic duties. Cheerfulness in
weakness and suffering is a great channel of grace, and dutiful
love to your mother, the first commandment with promise.'
It was the same, as you know, with others ; he was always on
the watch to help any one. A few years after Mr. Keble's death,
one having been mentioned to him whom Mr. Keble had taught,
and who needed help, he wrote at once : ' I should be very glad
to carry on, in what degree I might, dearest J. K.'s work towards
any one, much more to one of your or H  's belongings. Tell
your friend so, please.'
Of his ways with children, the daughter of one of his
closest friends writes : — February 17, 1900.
It has been written of Dr. Pusey that he was not fond
of children. As a child it was one of the greatest treats of my life to go to
tea at his house. This must have been somewhere in the fifties,
when Clara, Edith, and Sidney Pusey were a great deal with him
at Ch. Ch.1 Clara, now Mrs. Fletcher, used to blindfold us and
carry us, one at a time, to Fairyland, as she used to call it, upstairs
and downstairs and round about, until we were completely mysti
fied, and then our bandages were taken off and we found ourselves
in Dr. Pusey's study.
He had one delightful entertainment for us, an amusement
which never failed. He provided lumps of sugar on pins, and we
used to make sugar drops on his cards, melting the sugar in his
candle. Often have I sat on his knee to do this, and I well
remember once, when the lump of sugar having become very
small, my fingers were burnt, how tenderly he tied them up for
me and bid me not to cry.
1 In the later years ofthe fifties, since Mr. Pusey died in 1855.

1858.I RECOLLECTIONS. 385
I cannot think that any man who was not fond of children
could have done this. When we went to tea with him we always
had thin bread and butter with jam on it Now, at home in our
own nursery we had thick bread and little butter — and, if jam,
only that, and no butter, so that we always thought what a won
derful man Dr. Pusey must be to have thin bread and butter with
jam on it.
The same kindly interest that he showed for us in our child
hood followed us as long as he lived, and for our father's sake he
was always glad to see us.
A" letter (September 28, 1899) from the son of Dr.
Pusey's friend, Mr. Richards of Farlington, tells somewhat
of his ways with young men : —
As I can recollect him, from 1850 to the end of 1855, he was
a slight middle-sized man, with brown hair and a rather pale and
grave but very kind face, and a very gentle and quiet manner,
which inspired confidence, so that I was never afraid of him.
During my six years at Magdalen, I spent the day many times at
his house at Christ Church, but do not recollect his speaking
about religion, except on one occasion, when he showed me and,
I think, Stuart, or it may have been Philip, or his nephew Willie
Pusey, who was often there, a picture of Christ crowned with
thorns, which always stood on his study table, though it was
generally closed, the frame being fitted with folding doors. He
gave us his blessing after talking to us about it for some time.
Sixteen years afterwards, in 1870, when I saw him for the last
time, he again showed it to me, and again gave me his blessing.
At that time he did not seem to me to have changed much from
what he was when I knew him before.

2 C

CHAPTER XXI.
EUCHARISTIC DOCTRINE.
1854-1858.
Tu vuoi ch'io manifesti
La forma qui del pronto creder mio,
Ed anche la cagion di lui chiedesti,
.....
Ed a tal creder non ho io pur prove
Fisice e metafisice, ma dalmi
Anche la verita che quinci piove
Per Moise, per profeti, e per salmi
Per l'evangelio, e per voi che scriveste.
Paradiso, c. xxiv.
Through the spring and summer of 1854, while Dr.
Pusey was daily watching by Lady Emily's death-bed, he
was in much anxiety as to the issue of a fresh attack on
the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist through the prosecution
of Archdeacon Denison, Vicar of East Brent, in the diocese
of Bath and Wells. He had preached three sermons, in
Wells Cathedral, on the Holy Communion, in the autumn
of 1853, and on May 14, 1854. They would, probably,
now not provoke any controversy, but a formal charge of
false doctrine was brought against him by Mr. Ditcher,
Vicar of South Brent. The case was tried at Bath by a
Court constituted by the Archbishop of Canterbury,1 and
1 The Bishop of the diocese could not legally hear the case, as he was
patron of Archdeacon Denison's living, East Brent.

'eV

1856.] TRIAL OF ARCHDEACON DENISON. 387
where, through Dr. Lushington, he adjudged certain pas
sages in the sermons to be contrary to the doctrine of the
Church of England ; and, on Archdeacon Denison stating
in writing his reasons for being unable to 'make the
revocations required by the Court,' Dr. Lushington pro
nounced sentence upon him (October 22, 1856), depriving
him of all his preferments.
The Archdeacon appealed to the Court of Arches ;
and, in April, 1857, the Dean of the Arches ' reversed the
decision of the Court at Bath, on the technical ground that
the suit on which the Archdeacon had been deprived had
not been taken against him within the time required by
the Church Discipline Act.' x This decision was confirmed,
on Mr. Ditcher's appeal against it, by the Judicial Com
mittee of the Privy Council (in February, 1858), and so
the matter came to an end without any decision in the two
courts of appeal on the question of whether the sermons
attacked contained doctrine opposed to that of the Church
of England. The case had thus hung on for four years, causing
greatest anxiety and trouble to 'all Churchmen who
believed that the Church of England rejected no portion of
the Sacramental teaching of the ancient Church,'2 and
especially to Mr. Keble and Dr. Pusey. The latter thought
it denoted that the Low Church meant a ' war of extermi
nation against us.' 'Every fresh attack hems us in,' he
wrote, ' and increases our difficulties, and mows down those
whom we can ill spare.' s The great book (of 722 pages)
1 Life, iii. p. 445. 2 Ibid. iii. p. 434.
3 Archdeacon R. J. Wilberforce joined the Roman communion in October,
1854; upon which the Archbishop of York stopped the proceedings about to
be taken against him on account of his book on the Holy Eucharist.

388 TREATISE ON THE HOLY EUCHARIST.
on the Holy Eucharist by Dr. Pusey appeared in May,
1855 (just two months before Dr. Lushington's judgment),
in the form of ' Notes ' on his sermon preached in January,
I853-1 One closing passage is too beautiful to omit.
Yes ! along the whole course of time, throughout the whole
circuit of the Christian world, from East and West, from North
and South, there floated up to Christ our Lord one harmony of
praise. Unbroken as yet, lived on the miracle of the Day of
Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit from on high swept over the
discordant strings of human tongues and thoughts, of hearts and
creeds, and blended all their varying notes into one holy unison
of truth. From Syria and Palestine and Armenia; from Asia
Minor and Greece ; from Thrace and Italy ; from Gaul and Spain ;
from Africa Proper, and Egypt, and Arabia, and the Isles of the
Sea ; wherever any Apostle had taught, wherever any Martyr had
sealed with his blood the testimony of Jesus ; from the polished
cities, or the anchorites of the desert, one Eucharistic voice
ascended ; ' Righteous art Thou, O Lord, and all Thy words are
truth.' Thou hast said, ' This is My Body,' ' This is My Blood.'
Hast Thou said, and shalt Thou not do it ? As Thou hast said,
so we believe.
Truly, O Lord, ' Thy holy Church throughout all the world
doth acknowledge Thee.' 2
1 This form was adopted from his ' sense of duty to support by adequate
authority the most deliberate doctrinal utterance he ever made on the subject of
the Holy Eucharist in the University pulpit.' . . . The closing note is a ' mas
sive accumulation of witnesses to the positive side of the doctrine as held by
the ancient Church, namely, that after consecration, our Lord is objectively
present in the Holy Eucharist.' — Life, iii. pp. 431, 432.
2 Sir John Coleridge thought that the question of authority in respect of
the doctrine of the Eucharist would be settled by Pusey's work. Archdeacon
Churton was of opinion that . . . Pusey had gathered such a mass of
authorities as well-nigh to exhaust the subject, and had cemented them together
with such arguments as to leave nothing out of consideration. Bishop
Philpotts described the book as containing a triumphant statement of the
doctrine of the Church. — Ibid. iii. p. 443.

1857-1 SERIOUS ILLNESS. 389
'I fear,' Dr. Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble (August 28,
1856), 'that the belief in the Real Presence is very often
something very undefined, and, among a large class, the
presence of the elements is a ground against adoration, as
though, in adoring our Blessed Lord in the flesh people
hesitated because of the dress under which it was
veiled.' a
The strain of the last few years had entirely overtaxed
his brain, and he was forced by suffering to have recourse
to Dr. Acland, who imperatively ordered entire rest and
abstinence from writing and from all business for several
months, in order to avert serious and fatal disease, of
which there were premonitory symptoms. He yielded ' to
the voice of his wise physician' with the cheerful sub
mission which often did much for his restoration to health.
'My father has been overworked, and suffers now
from very sleepless nights, but the last account is better,'
his daughter wrote early in 1857 ; ' and I hope that we
may very soon have him here, to try what sort of a nurse
I can make ; and he always enjoys the quiet and peace of
our little country parsonage.' a . . .
' He was very ill in the winter. I got so frightened
that I could not be happy here, and I spent nearly a month
at Oxford (in Lent). He was much better then, and he
tells me he is not at all worse now, in spite of newspaper
reports. He is gone to Malvern, to try the effect of
change of air.'
1 This controversy produced two books which will be remembered and
read when all the incidents connected with it are forgotten — Mr. Keble's
'Eucharistical Adoration,' and Dr. Pusey's treatise on the 'Real Presence.'—
Life, iii. 437.
8 All Saints', Axminster.

39° VISIT TO PARIS.
In August she could write : —
My dear father is really better, cheerful, and in such good
spirits. He will never, so the physicians say, be able entirely to
throw off the effects of this severe illness ; but, with care and
prudence, there is no reason to fear that it will tend to shorten
his life. He himself wrote to Mr. Keble from Oxford in
December : —
Knott has, privately, resigned St. Saviour's, so I am in my old
sea of troubles about an incumbent. ... I am, by God's mercy,
better than when I returned. My head feels stronger, though as
yet I have only had Council and Chapter business ; and in my
Commentary have got only to Hosea iv. I hope, however, to
begin printing before Easter.
' The sea of troubles ' did him no good ; he probably
went to his mother for Christmas, for he says a few days
later : —
I have found the noise of London rather hurt my head ; so I
consulted Dr. Latham, as I felt myself rather retrograde. He
says that he is not anxious about my health now ; for had there
been anything really amiss in my head, it must have become
worse in the course of the year. He advises me to make the
best use of the vacation, so I am going to-morrow morning to try
whether the light and dry air in the neighbourhood of Paris will
do me good. I have heard of its affording great relief in other
cases. . . . Dear Philip is going with me. He had set apart this
latter part of the vacation for some work at St. Cyril in the Paris
Library. I have been with my good mother, who is wonderfully
well, though she walks less strongly. ... I take with me materials
for my Commentary (sundry folios). For I find that this quiet
occupation suits my head.
Dr, Pusey remained near Paris during the winter of

1858.] CONDEMNATION OF BISHOP FORBES' CHARGE. 39 1
1857-8, while his son was at work in the Bibliotheque
Imperiale ; and knew nothing, until his return home
before Lent, 1858, of another storm, which had arisen in
the autumn of 1857, with regard to the doctrine of the
Holy Eucharist, before that concerning Archdeacon
Denison's sermons had come to an end.
The Primary Charge of Bishop Forbes, of Brechin, in
which he dwelt upon the doctrine of the Eucharistic
Sacrifice, and the adoration due to our Lord, mysteriously
present in His gifts, was attacked ; and at a Synod in
Edinburgh (December, 1857) three bishops signed a
document condemning the doctrines taught by Bishop
Forbes. The brunt of distress and work caused by this
to English Churchmen fell upon Mr. Keble, both on
account of Dr. Pusey's illness, and because he took the
Episcopal declaration to condemn his own book on
' Eucharistical Adoration.' ' I am so sorry this storm has
reached your ears,' he wrote to Dr. Pusey (February 14,
1858). 'It is in vain to ask you not to be anxious about
it ; but I do hope you will not be tempted to hurt your
self — by working! However, on April 13, he wrote to
Bishop Forbes of thankfulness that 'our dear friend at
Christ Church should be so far restored as he is,' and
' enabled to give good advice to a friend like yourself
It was much needed ; for at the Edinburgh Synod in
May, 1858, all the Scotch bishops, except Bishop Forbes,
signed a document censuring the teaching of the latter in
his Charge as to the Holy Eucharist.
Although Mr. Keble could not regard this document as
having any canonical authority, but ' simply as the result
of counsel gravely taken by those six individual bishops,'

392 TRIAL OF BISHOP FORBES.
it caused great distress and anxiety to Bishop Forbes as
to his right course; and it is needless to say that Dr.
Pusey threw himself warmly into the question. It is
strange, considering the present state of things at Christ
Church Cathedral, Oxford, to find him detained there at
this time, when he would fain have gone to Hursley to
talk matters over with Mr. Keble, by an effort made to
have Holy Communion in the Cathedral on Trinity
Sunday (May 26, 1858). The desire that this should be
restored was, if possible, intensified by the fact of his wife
having passed away on Trinity Sunday, which he ever
kept as the anniversary of her death.
The Scotch trouble continued and increased all through
the summer and winter of 1858, and through 1859. In
October the Bishop was 'formally presented before the
Episcopal Synod of the Scottish Episcopal Church ' on the
charge of having held and maintained doctrines contrary
to the Articles of religion, the Word of God, the formularies
of public worship, and the Scotch Communion Office.
In the grave anxiety felt by Dr. Pusey and Mr. Keble
as to the result of this trial, it was a great support to
them to have the warm sympathy and support of such
men as Mr. Gladstone and Sir John Coleridge. The
latter, in a letter to Dr. Pusey (December 4, 1859),
expressed his opinion that Bishop, Forbes ' may safely say
that no judge in England would try a charge under the
same circumstances.'
I suppose (Dr. Pusey wrote to Mr. Keble, December 29,
1858) that this controversy will bring to light that there is no
medium between real absence and Real Presence ; and that those
who refuse to believe the Real Objective Presence ' under the

1858.] SCOTCH SYNOD'S JUDGMENT. 393
form of bread and wine,' really hold nothing more than Calvin,
' a presence of virtue and efficacy.'
From October, 1859, until the trial in March, i860, a
great part of Dr. Pusey's time was taken up in helping
Bishop Forbes, who consulted him at every step in pre
paring his defence. The judgment of the Bishops was
given on March 15 ; and relieved Bishop Forbes' friends
from their worst fears, for, although the Court found two
of the charges in the presentment proven (the third not
proven), the Bishops contented themselves with limiting
their ' sentence to a declaration of censure and admonition,'
entreating ' the Bishop of Brechin to be more careful in
future,' etc.
It was a great mercy that Dr. Pusey was able to return
to England, and in partially restored health at this time,
for the end of his mother's beautiful life was at hand.
During this spring of 1858, her strength visibly declined,
though, ' true to her character, she still never allowed her
self to lie down during the day, or even to lean back in«a
chair.' Among the mass of letters placed at the writer's dis
posal for this memoir, there are none which reveal greater
beauty of character than those of Lady Lucy Pusey. In
almost every sentence there is something which expresses
a certain distinction of mind, great humility, tender affec
tion, a striking consideration for others, and — even in the
delicate and beautiful handwriting — the perfect high-
breeding of a grande dame of the old school.
Since the original sources of information as to her
last days (from letters at Pusey House, talks with Rev.
William Pusey, etc.) are no longer accessible, it may be

394 DEATH OF LADY LUCY PUSEY.
permissible to extract the following from Dr. Liddon's
biography : —
On the fourth Sunday in Lent [March 14, 1858] she received
the Holy Communion for the last time at Grosvenor Chapel,
Dr. Pusey kneeling at her side. He had returned to Oxford,
when, on the day before Palm Sunday [March 28], he was sum
moned by telegraph to London. Her son's presence roused her
for the time ; she exclaimed with animation, ' Dear, dear
Edward ; ' she told him that she was quite well, and begged him
to ' go to your books.' She apologized for the trouble she was
giving : and her last hours were throughout marked by the simple
forgetfulness of self which had characterized her whole life. As
she could not swallow, it was impossible to administer the Blessed
Sacrament to her.
I said (wrote Pusey to his brother William on Good Friday
[April 2], 1858) some short prayers by her, and repeated texts
which were prayers, and she thanked me. A little while before
she ceased to breathe she said, ' Now I wish to be quite quiet,
that there should be none but you [I] and Dr. Cotton.' I saw
her hands put together in prayer, and then I was silent, because
she would best know how to pray. I told her she was going to
God, when I saw that she was dying. She answered, in that
humility which you know as the characteristic of her life, that
she was not fit. I answered you will suppose how.
When all was over Pusey wrote to Keble : ' She died in that
deep humility which had been the characteristic of her whole
life, feeling herself unworthy to enter into His Presence. . . .'
The end came at half-past two o'clock in the afternoon of Palm
Sunday. . . .
Pusey often used to say that a mother's death makes the
world a different world to all of us. He was speaking from his
own experience. She had been more to him than most mothers
are to the best of sons ; and no mother, she used to say, could
have had a better son than God had given her. . . .

1858.] OLD HOMES LOST. 395
Lady Lucy's death affected Pusey in other ways. From that
date Pusey practically took leave of the two homes of his child
hood. The house in Grosvenor Square soon passed into other
hands. Pusey House was partly shut up during the minority of
Dr. Pusey's nephew : and he only visited the place on two
occasions after that on which he stood by his mother's grave on
the Easter Eve of 1858. He shrank from visiting scenes, houses,
and rooms which were associated with those whom he had loved
in past years : he used to call them, generally, ' cities of the dead.'
He dreaded the dissipation of energy which is sometimes caused
by the reanimation of old sorrows : life, he would say, is too
short to be spent on anything but the work which God has given
us to do.1 1 Life, iii. pp. 415-419.

CHAPTER XXII.
HARVEST AND HOPE.
1859-1865.
He was so interpenetrated with the moral idea, that neither felicity
of expression nor daring originality of outlook, blinded him to the fact
that true greatness involved in some very deep sense, true goodness. —
Ii. If. Hutton, A Monograph.
'WHILE we who would love Christ are thus engaged in
attack and defence,' Dr. Pusey wrote in his treatise on the
Real Presence, ' infidelity finds its way undisputed, the Old
Testament is given over to unbelievers, our Redeemer is
blasphemed, His Godhead, His Atonement, and even His
Existence are denied.'
The last twenty-two years of Dr. Pusey's life were
chiefly occupied in battling against the infidelity of which,
when a youth in Germany, he had marked the advancing
tide, and knew that the Evangelical school was powerless
to check.1 And now, in i860, the young undergraduate, of whom
Dr. Pusey had written to his wife, in 1837, with sympathetic
1 In Tract 73 Dr. Newman argued * that the Evangelical appeal to the heart
alone shared the fatal defect of one-sidedness that belonged also to that exclusive
appeal to reason, against which the early Evangelicals had nobly revolted.' —
Life, iv. p. 3.

i860.] ENDOWMENT OF GREEK PROFESSORSHIP. 397
admiration,1 was Dr. Stanley, and the most marked man
in the new school of Liberals, which
— was much bolder and more independent than the older forms,
less inclined to put up with the traditional, more searching and in
quisitive in its methods, more suspicious and daring in its criticism;
but it was much larger in its views and its sympathies ; and, above
all, it was imaginative, it was enthusiastic, and, without much of
the devotional temper, it was penetrated by a sense of the reality
and seriousness of religion.2
The writings and influence of the Rev. B. Jowett,
Professor of Greek, brought increased and trying work to
Dr. Pusey, who felt that they sapped the very foundations
of faith ; and the proposal to increase the endowment of
the Regius Professorship of Greek to £300 a year caused
him perplexity as to the right course, since he felt that the
Professorship ought to be adequately endowed, and yet
shrank, as he wrote to Mr. Keble, from voting for a grant
which might seem to make the University ' indifferent as
to Professor Jowett's misbelief.' Difficulties were increased
by the publication, in February, i860, of 'Essays and
Reviews,' by seven different writers, of whom Dr. Jowett
was one. ' I should have no objection to the endowment,'
he wrote, in January, i860, 'if it could be made apparent
that it was not personal.'
In this difficulty he proposed a most generous scheme,
to increase the endowment of the Regius Professorships of
Greek and of Civil Law to £600 a year, if the Government
consented that the Crown should appoint to these two
Chairs not only on the recommendation of the Prime
Minister, but on that of the University, represented by
1 See p. 116. z Oxford Movement, p. 338.

398 DR. PUSEYS PLAN REJECTED.
Boards. Lord Palmerston agreed heartily to this plan,
and it was a bitter disappointment to Dr. Pusey that, in
May, 1861, it was rejected by ninety-one votes to seventy
in Convocation. For his plan made clear that it was the
Greek Chair, not the present occupant of it, of which
the income was (adequately and rightfully) increased, while
securing to the University a voice in the appointment of
any future Professor, instead of, as was afterwards proposed,
to endow the Greek Chair tenfold out of the funds of the
University, and then to place the nomination, without
reservation or without check, in the hands of the Prime
Ministers. Your proposal . . . seems to me in every respect for the best
(Bishop Wilberforce had written, November 1, i860). I should
myself greatly lament any act of the University which could imply
any vote of confidence in Professor Jowett as a teacher of theology,
for I think that the school he represents would subvert all our
objective Christian truth, if left to carry to their proper conclusions
what appears to me to be their principles.
He felt the defeat of what he had worked hard for the
more, because, while Dr. Stanley warmly supported it,
many of his own friends, too short-sighted to see its
advantages, or to separate the Professorship from the
Professor for the time being, voted against it.
My own friends, Bright, Liddon, etc., turned against it (Dr.
Pusey wrote, May 8, to Mr. Keble). . . . Stanley instantly followed
up the failure by notice of a motion for the direct endowment of
Jowett. . . . You know my measure was to modify the Crown
patronage, give the Crown a quid pro quo in the form of endow
ment, not exclude Jowett from the benefit, because that would
condemn him indirectly ; at the same time, not to favour him
directly and personally.

I86l.] ' ESSAYS AND REVIEWS.' 399
The detailed account of what followed ought to be
studied in the 'Life.'1 For, as its writer remarks, there
is nothing in Dr. Pusey's life ' which is more frequently
remembered against him, and hardly one which suffers
more from incomplete remembrance.' 2 The publication
just at that time (February, i860), of ' Essays and Reviews,'
complicated matters, and confused the judgment of many
who could not perceive the principle of justice to which
he held throughout ; although convinced, he wrote, ' that
by making a direct grant to Professor Jowett we should
have been endorsing his religious scepticism.' That a
definite charge of heresy should be made against Professor
Jowett in the proper court, as his friends demanded, seemed
right to Dr. Pusey, since, as he said, 'prosecution is not
persecution.' He must have thought of his own con
demnation, unheard, when he added, 'There is real
persecution in that against which one cannot defend one's
self.' I used to maintain (he says in a note to Mr. Keble, alluding
to Bishop Colenso's teaching), and do maintain, that the Church
must bear with much, for fear of worse evils. But she must not
bear with this naked denial of our Lord the Atoner, and of God
the Holy Ghost, Who spake by the Prophets. ... I never felt so
desponding as I do now, not at people's attacks (these we must
expect), but at the acquiescence in them on the part of religious
men. The case against Professor Jowett was brought before
the Chancellor's Court of the University of Oxford, but
was withdrawn on account of a legal doubt whether the
court had jurisdiction in the case, while yet it was decided
1 Vol. iv. pp. 18-37. 2 Ibid. p. 37.

400 FUNDAMENTAL DOCTRINES ATTACKED.
that it was the only court open to the promoters of the
suit. But Dr. Pusey was incapable of injustice. ' There has
been no time in the Church,' he wrote, ' when its teachers
would have been allowed to deny such truth as Professor
Jowett has.'
And again, in a letter to the Times : —
I cannot imagine anything more demoralizing than that clergy
men should profess their belief in great fundamental truths, and
assert the contrary ; that they should affirm to God, as the mouth
piece of a congregation in prayer, what they should contradict in
their sermons or their writings. No sect in England would tolerate
this. All this he held, and more —
We are at the beginning (he said, in a speech at the Heb
domadal Council) of a deepening and widening struggle for life
or death — for the life or death of the University as a place of
religious learning ; for the life or death of the Church of England
as an instrument of God for the salvation of souls.
But he also held to his conviction that the Greek
Professorship ought to be adequately endowed, and his
speech at the Council was to introduce another scheme
for that purpose. He carried it ; but it was rejected by
Convocation. Other schemes fell through ; Dr. Pusey
remaining unmoved by any arguments of his friends, and
believing Professor Jowett unfairly treated. It was not
until February, 1865, that the matter was finally settled, by
the Dean and Chapter of Christ Church raising the endow
ment of his Chair to £500 a year, as it was supposed by
some that they 'held certain lands under conditions which

i86l.] LETTER TO THE 'GUARDIAN' 401
made it obligatory upon them to augment the emolument
of the Greek Chair ' ; x and, though ' convinced that no
legal claim could be made against them,' they decided to
do so, ' rather than rest under the slightest suspicion of
unfairness.' Of 'Essays and Reviews' Dr. Pusey wrote to the
Guardian (March, 1861): —
The well-known passage in the unbelieving Westminster
Review states the extent to which the truth has been attacked.
Look at the list.
' Now, in all seriousness we would ask, what is the practical
issue of all this? Having made all these deductions from the
popular belief, what remains as the residuum? In their ordinary,
if not plain, sense, there has been discarded the Word of God, the
creation, the fall, the redemption, justification, regeneration and
salvation, miracles, inspiration, prophecy, heaven and hell, eternal
punishment, a day of judgment, creeds, liturgies and articles, the
truth of Jewish history and of Gospel narrative ; a sense of doubt
thrown over even the Incarnation, the Resurrection and Ascen
sion, the Divinity of the Second Person, and the Personality of
the Third. It may be that this is a true view of Christianity, but
we insist, in the name of common sense, that it is a new view.' 2
Yet, as he said in the same letter, in reply to the
demand made throughout England on her bishops and
great theologians for an answer to this ' new view ' —
How can such an undigested heap of errors receive a systematic
answer in brief space, or in any one treatise or volume? or why
should these be more answered than all the other attacks on the
same subject, with which the unbelieving press has been for some
time teeming ? People seem to have transferred the natural panic
at finding that such attacks on belief could be made by those
1 Life, iv. p. 36.
2 Westminster Review, October, i860, vol. xviii. (New Series), pp. 304, 305.
2 D

402 LETTERS TO MR. KEBLE.
bound to maintain it to the subjects themselves ; as if the faith
was jeopardized because it has been betrayed. With the excep
tion of the still imperfect science of geology, the ' Essays and
Reviews ' contain nothing with which those acquainted with the
writings of unbelievers in Germany have not been familiar these
thirty years.
To Mr. Keble he wrote at the same time, enclosing
a letter from Archdeacon Denison, pressing him to take
part in answers to the ' Essays ' —
My own to the Guardian will have shown you why I do not
take part in the volumes. I am satisfied that I can do more
good, by God's mercy, by going on with the Commentary. I am
now revising what I wrote on Jonah. I feel deeply that God's
Word will speak for itself in a way which no man can speak for
it; but I believe that such a work as one's drawing out some
portion of its meaning will enable people to understand its voice
better. All this fog and mist which Jowett and Co. are so busy
in supplying out of the ' striking parts ' (in the favourite metaphor
of the school) of human traditions (for unbelief has become a
tradition now) will be absorbed by the Sun and the Sun only.
Your affectionate and grateful
E. B. P.
Oh that our people could have learnt (he says, in another
note, March ii, 1861) that our wisdom lies in prayer, in works
of conversion, labour for the poor, promotion of faith and truth
and love of God, without making organic changes ! This is the
rock I have ever dreaded from Oakeley's line.
The alarm and distress of Churchmen, High and Low,
was aggravated by the result of proceedings taken against
two of the essayists, Mr. Wilson and Dr. Williams, Vicar of
Broad Chalke, the suit against the latter being instituted
by his Bishop (Hamilton of Salisbury). The decision
given against them, in June, 1863, was reversed in

1864.I APPEAL TO DR. PUSEY. 403
February, 1864, by the Judicial Committee of the Privy
Council, to which they had appealed j and, under these
circumstances, High and Low turned alike to Dr, Pusey
for help in their desire to express adherence to the great
truths which they held in common, and their sense of the
dishonour to God through their denial. The strength of
this feeling had not diminished in England during the
four years that had passed since ' Essays and Reviews '
were published, and amongst those who appealed most
eagerly to Dr. Pusey was the Bishop (Wilberforce of
Oxford) who, in 185 1, had inhibited him from preaching
in his diocese, and refused to grant him an interview.
'What I am most anxious about,' he wrote to Dr.
Pusey, 'for the present is that you should do your ut
most to weld together for this purpose the two great
sections of the Church, High and Low, and that at all
events the protest and declaration should be numerously
signed.' I thought to make a summary of this (Dr. Pusey wrote,
August 13, 1864, to Mr. Keble) as soon as Liddon and I can,
and then wrote to the Record to say that the clergy of England
ought to rise up as one man against the judgment, and that the
two great parties who love our Lord as their Redeemer and their
God ought to unite. What think you of this? The Record
admitted a letter of mine signed ' Senex,' though I told the editor
privately who I was. I do hope that this common bond of
sacred truth might the rather dispose them to receive other truths
which we hold and they not, or, at least, not to be so prejudiced
against it. Then might it not be best to form an association
for this common object ? . . . Without something organic, whose
business it shall be to agitate year by year, it would be but an
explosion on the surface.

404 LORD SHAFTESBURYS PROPOSAL.
August 14.
What I meant was, that we must have something more
of systematic acting than we had in the Gorham case, when there
was one great explosion on the surface which became vox et
prceterea nihil.
What I meant was organic acting within the Church. I do
not look forward. I do not see my way. But I wanted some
organization which should habitually and yearly keep up the
demand. I am sure that nothing can be done without organi
zation. September, 1864.
Men make up their minds to the ills of the Church,
except those who leave it and go, some about their ordinary
duties, some to their farms, others to their merchandise.
This Declaration, reaffirming truths attacked by the
Essayists, was drawn up by 'a representative committee,'
of which Dr. Pusey was one, and evidently the leading
spirit. 'The Declaration is wonderfully uniting all but
the Rationalists,' he wrote to Bishop Hamilton. Eleven
thousand clergymen signed it.1
It was a great pleasure to Dr. Pusey, in the midst of
his anxious work, to receive a letter from his cousin, Lord
Shaftesbury, who had often bitterly attacked him.
You and I are fellow collegians and old friends (he wrote,
February 26, 1864). Time, space, and divergent opinions have
separated us for many years ; but circumstances have arisen which
must, if we desire combined action in the cause of our common
Master, set at nought space, time, and divergent opinions. . . .
1 At the same time he was cheered by a letter from Archbishop Longley,
telling him that he was waiting for the presentation of the Declaration as the
most suitable moment for a public assertion of his belief in the doctrines with
which it dealt. ... In the next month it was followed by a synodical
condemnation of ' Essays and Reviews ' by both Houses of the Convocation
of Canterbury. — Life, iv. pp. 56, 57.

1 864.] EASTER WORK. 405
For God's sake, let all who love our Blessed Lord and His perfect
work be of one heart, one mind, one action, on this great issue,
and show that, despite our wanderings, our doubts, our conten
tions, we yet may be one in Him.
E. B. P. to Lord Shaftesbury.
Christ Church, Oxford, Feb. 28, 1864.
Mv dear Shaftesbury, — I thank God for your letter, and
for the renewal of old friendship. I always sought to live in
peaceful relations with those who love our dear Lord and adore
His redeeming mercy. Those few lines in the Record express
what has for thirty years been the deep longing of my soul, that
we should understand one another, and strive together against
the common enemy of souls. ... I have ever loved the (to use
the term) Evangelical party, even while they blamed me, because
I believed that they loved our Redeeming Lord with their whole
hearts. So now I am one heart and one mind with those who
will contend for our common faith against this tide of unbelief.
Yours affectionately, E. B. Pusey.
In the midst of all this heavy public anxiety, he wrote
to his son (April 1) from Plymouth, where he went, not to
rest, but to work during the Easter vacation : —
I have been preparing three unbaptized penitents for baptism.
It is so happy to be able to tell them that all their sins will be
forgiven them, and that they will have no more to do with them
than if some one else had done them, if they will but, by the grace
of God, be faithful hereafter.
There was work for Dr. Pusey to do at this juncture,
far beyond anything in which Lord Shaftesbury could
have a part. He had, as we have seen, spared himself
nothing, whilst still a youth, that could sharpen his

406 ' LECTURES ON THE BOOK OF DANIEL.'
weapons for the combat of which he saw the approaching
shadow. 'Daniel is out, thank God, and 1000 sold,' he says
to his son (September 17). The mental labour in youth,
the long hours of study — sixteen and seventeen out of the
twenty-four — entailing severe bodily suffering, had left
him equipped as probably no one else was at this time, to
meet and repel attacks on the Old Testament. A declara
tion of belief in the Bible, in which learned and unlearned
could join, was well ; but he came forth from the ranks as
a champion prepared to foil specific assaults on that belief.
His ' Lectures on the Book of Daniel,' begun in 1862, were
published in the autumn of 1864.
I am just now writing some lectures on Daniel (he had written
to Newman, in a note which the latter has marked in pencil
' 1861?') because the Rationalists think their attack on him very
triumphant. So I hope that an exposure here might open the
eyes of those who wished to have them opened, as to the nature
of their attacks in general.
Dr. Pusey has stated in the Preface, that he selected
the Book of Daniel,
— because unbelieving critics considered their attacks upon it to be
one of their greatest triumphs. . . . The exposure of the weak
ness of criticism, where it thought itself most triumphant, would,
I hoped, shake the confidence of the young in their would-be
misleaders. True ! Disbelief of Daniel had become an axiom
in the unbelieving critical school. Only, they mistook the result
of unbelief for the victory of criticism. They overlooked the
historical fact that the disbelief had been antecedent to the
criticism.1 The publication of this book had a marked effect upon
1 Daniel the Prophet, Preface, p. vi.

1864.] A CHAMPION'S WEAPONS. 407
religious thought in England. Dr. Pusey alluded himself
once to the ' brief season of popularity ' which it brought
to him. Men could not but perceive how far greater, and
deeper, and truer was his whole line of argument than that
which he combated. They saw that he shirked nothing, but
had marshalled, in defence of his lines, all the forces which
learning and scholarship, with immense study of Semitic
literature, had put at his disposal ; and to which he had
added with inimitable patience and industry, by fresh
research in every field which could yield him material.
Not his to condescend to the poor work of his opponents,
or to spare himself any pains in keeping his weapons
bright and keen-edged. 'I will not offer to my God of
that which shall cost me nothing : ' — this spirit can seldom
have found truer expression than in the noble book on
' Daniel the Prophet.' x
His University sermons during these years, 1860-1866,
also dealt, directly or indirectly, with the doubts and
difficulties raised by the Essayists and other rationalistic
writers, not only pouring out to his hearers arguments re
inforced by scholarly knowledge and research of no ordinary
kind, but pleading with them, entreating them to yield
their whole heart to Him Who made and loved them, and
Who would surely lead each soul that turned to Him into
1 At the time one or two writers ventured to impugn his knowledge of
Hebrew; but some very pointed retorts to them in the postscript to the
Preface of the second edition showed clearly the side on which the ignorance
lay. . . . Pusey indeed was determined to make the defence as thorough as
possible. He resented most deeply the manner in which some English
writers had transcribed from foreign critics arguments against the ordinary
view of the Bible, not only without showing any independence of thought,
but sometimes even betraying their failure to understand the argument that
they reproduced. — Life, iv. pp. 72, 73.

408 PAMPHLET ON FINAL COURT OF APPEAL.
His truth. At his own house he had begun, in Novem
ber, 1863,
— a series of informal meetings of undergraduates and Bachelors of
Arts to discuss difficulties which have been raised about the Old
Testament, inviting his guests to send in notice of the difficulties
which they felt ; and at the next meeting these were dealt with,
partly in the form of a lecture, and partly in the way of question
and answer.1
To all this large and varied work in defence of Christian
doctrine were added strenuous efforts to procure an altera
tion in the constitution of the final court of appeal in
ecclesiastical cases.2 The correspondence on this subject
was immense — with Mr. Keble, Mr. Gladstone, Bishop
Wilberforce, Sir Roundell Palmer, Judge Coleridge, etc. ;
and, besides the labour which it involved, he was occupied
with a powerful pamphlet on the subject, published in
September, 1864.
I will send it you, please God (he wrote to Mr. Keble), not
as committing you to it, but to ask whether you think it would be
positively mischievous. I wrote it on the idea that unless one
said strong things about the unprincipled character of this decision,
and of any future probable decision, one might just as well write
nothing at all. I have no hesitation about saying the things
themselves ; but what it is politic to say is another thing.
Thank you ; what I thought the worst symptom, a slight affec
tion of the tongue, is gone. I do a little at intervals, but not so
as to tire myself. I seem to be in a chronic state, not suffering
1 Amongst subjects sent in were : ' The Mosaic Account of the Creation,'
' The Deluge,' ' Plagues of Egypt,' etc., etc.— Life, iv. p. 74.
2 Sir George Prevost, when sending his name to be appended to the
Declaration, had written (February 27, 1864) : ' But something more is wanted.
This court of appeal must not be suffered to exist in the form it is now. It is
leaving the ultimate keeping of our most precious jewels in the hands of those
who have no sense whatever of their value.'

1864.] REST AT ASCOT HERMITAGE. 409
from anything acute, doing a little work gently. ... I am
revising my old Commentary on Micah gently, and printing some
University sermons.
Again his health broke down seriously, and his
physician ordered him to leave Oxford. He went to a
small house, ' The Hermitage,' in the grounds belonging
to Ascot Priory, to which a beautiful and airy room had
been added for his accommodation.
He wrote to Mr. Keble in July : —
I was so jaded at the end of last term, from overwork (partly
about those Middle-Class Examinations), that from some symptoms
I thought my brain was injured, but in this excellent (Ascot
Heath) air and with the pines, they are diminishing, and I hope
to be at work soon. At present I work a little at intervals, which
this excellent, invigorating air helps. I find the smell of the
pines refreshing to the brain. One does not find out until one
is poorly, how that common gift of smell refreshes the brain,
please God.
Of his pamphlet he says (September 1) : —
My ground for writing in so unusual a style was the conviction
that nothing would be effectual except what is very plain spoken,
and therefore I went as near to incurring the penalties of the law
of libel, and of treason, as I thought I might without sin.
This is also my ground of incurring the expense of sending
round the pamphlet to the 11,000 clergy. I do not expect good
to come of it ... if it fails I shall have done my part, and I
too may have done.
My only hope is in the working of God the Holy Ghost, that
He will not abandon us.
A few words in the Preface to his pamphlet on the
last Privy Council judgment as to the feelings of English
Romanists towards the Anglican communion brought a

410 the 'eirenicon:
reply (November, 1864) from Dr. Manning, in the form
of a pamphlet addressed to Dr. Pusey, challenging and
dissenting from his view ; and the latter decided to answer
it in the form of a letter to Mr. Keble. ' My printed
letter to you,' he wrote (February 19, 1865), ' in reference
to Manning has been delayed by various mishaps. There
are about one hundred pages in type, and there must be
more.' It grew into his famous ' Eirenicon,' in which his
object was to plead for union between Rome and England,
arguing that the obstacles to it were not insuperable, if
each side were willing to present them in the least aggra
vated form possible, and to examine dispassionately what
was really de fide on either side, when much of popular
teaching and prejudice had been put aside.
He mentioned Cardinal Wiseman's words, laid down
as a principle, 'We must explain to the utmost,' and
thought that,
— it may be that the Church of England might offer such
explanations of the Thirty-nine Articles as the Roman and Greek
Churches would accept, such as are suggested by Bossuet ; . . .
or, according to the precedent of the Council of Florence, the
Thirty-nine Articles and the Council of Trent (which was so largely
directed against errors of Luther) might pass away and be
merged in the Eighth General Council of the once more United
Christendom.1 As a first step towards this end, he determined to
reprint, with Dr. Newman's permission, Tract 90, and to
publish it in one pamphlet, together with Mr. Keble's
'Letter to the Hon. Mr. Justice Coleridge on Catholic
Subscription to the Thirty-nine Articles,' and a Preface
to both by himself. 1 Eirenicon, part i. p. 268.

1865.] REPRINT OF TRACT 90. 4 1 1
Could Tract 90 be republished without committing you (he
wrote to Newman) ? It is, of course, a considerable historical
document. But its value in my eyes is its theological value, in
rolling off a mass of pseudo-traditional glosses which had encrusted
over the Articles.
Dr. Newman consented to the reprinting of the Tract ;
Dr. Pusey writing in another note that there was still ' the
old prejudice hanging about it,' created by ' the four tutors,
the Heads, and Ward and Oakeley, with Ward's term
" non-natural." ' ' No one doubts your honesty,' he added,
' but the doubt about Tract 90 is not rolled off yet.'
Tract 90 is in the press, as also J. K.'s letter to Coleridge (he
wrote later) ; I am writing a Preface, in which I quote largely
from your letter to Jelf. . . . You have cleared yourself amply ;
but to me it seems essential to vindicate Tract 90 itself, and this
is what I am doing.
On Christmas Eve, 1864, he mentions to Dr. Newman
his ' Letter,' which grew into the ' Eirenicon,' as being ' in
fact a real awakening of Tract 90, which, though its
principles have sunk deep, is not much known by the
rising generation.'
Thus, in the last year of Mr. Keble's life, it so fell out
that the great names of the ' first three,' to whom no other
leaders of religious thought in England had attained,
appeared once more together. And while the book was
in the press the three friends met, for the first time for
twenty years, and for the last time on earth. ' I am going
early next week to see Keble ' (Dr. Pusey wrote, September
4, 1865, to Newman, without any thought of meeting him) ;
' they seem to be aweful times everywhere ; would to God

412 LETTERS TO DR. NEWMAN.
we were not spending our strength, but could fight against
the common foe of souls and of the faith.'
After mentioning his 'Eirenicon,' just published, he
continues : —
But now as to sending it to you. I have not in all these sad
years sent you anything which had any controversy in it. . . .
I should be sorry that you should have anything of mine from
the booksellers ; but still more sorry to be the occasion of your
writing anything against it by bringing it under your notice.
For myself, I am glad to escape again to bring the force of
Nahum's prophecy before people. The Commentary on Micah
is, I am thankful to say, printed. Ever yours most affectionately,
E. B. P.
My line is yours (he says in another letter), that we have no
right to lay down interpretations which are not those of Scripture
itself or the Church, as to be certainly received. . . .
I hope that it is a good time to make a distinction as what is
of faith and what is not.
The Oratory, Birmingham, September 5, 1865.
My dear Pusey, — I shall be very much obliged by your
sending me your book. Somehow, outright controversy is more
pleasant to me than such uncontroversial works as are necessarily
built on assumptions which pain me.
For myself, I don't think I have written anything controversial
for the last fourteen years. Nor have I ever, as I think, replied to
any controversial notice of what I have written. . . . And that on
the principle that Truth defends itself, and falsehood refutes itself;
and that, having said my say, time will decide for me, without my
trouble, how far it was true, and how far not true. And I have
quoted Crabbe's lines as to my purpose (though I can't quote
correctly) — Leaving the case to Time, who solves all doubt,
By bringing Truth, his glorious daughter, out.

1865.] LETTER FROM DR. NEWMAN. 413
This being so, I can't conceive I could feel it in any sense an
imperative duty to remark on anything you said in your book. I
daresay there is a great deal in which I should agree. Certainly,
I so dislike Ward's way of going on I can't get myself to read the
Dublin. But on those points I have said my say in my ' Apologia,'
and, though I can't see the future, am likely to leave them alone.
A great attempt has been made in some quarters to find censurable
mistakes in my book, but it has altogether failed, and I consider
Ward's articles to be impotent attempts to put down by argument
what is left safe in the domain of theological opmion.
But, while I would maintain my own theological opinions, I
don't dispute Ward the right of holding his, so that he does not
attempt to impose them on me, nor do I dispute the right of whoso
will, to use devotions to the Blessed Virgin which seem to me
unnatural and forced. Did authority attempt to put them down,
while they do not infringe on the great CathoHc verities, I think
it would act, as the Bishop of London is doing, in putting down
the devotional observances of the Tractarian party at St. Michael's
and elsewhere. He is tender towards free-thinkers, and stern
towards the Romanizers.
Dal veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas. Now the Church
of Rome is severe on the free-thinkers, and indulgent towards
devotees. Ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.

CHAPTER XXIII.
VISITS TO FRANCE.
1865.
One may take the first steps, though one does not see what the
last may be ; . . . preparing in a far-off way for re-union by breaking
down prejudices, if God enables me. — Letter from E. B. P.
Of his last meeting with his friends at Mr. Keble's home,
Dr. Newman wrote an account, in 1868, to Sir J. T.
Coleridge. It was remarkable certainly that three friends, he, Dr. Pusey,
and myself, who had been so intimately united for so many years,
and then for so many years had been separated, at least one of
them from the other two, should meet together just once again ;
and, for the first and last time, dine together simply by themselves.
And the more remarkable because not only by chance they met
all three together, but there were positive chances against their
meeting. Keble had wished me to come to him, but the illness
of his wife, which took them to Bournemouth, obliged him to put
me off. On their return to Hursley I wrote to him on the subject
of my visit, and fixed a day for it. Afterwards, hearing from
Pusey that he, too, was going to Hursley on the very day I had
named, I wrote to Keble to put off my visit. I told him, as I
think, my reason. I had not seen either of them for twenty
years, and to see both of them at once would be more, I feared,
than I could bear. Accordingly, I told him I should go from

1865.] MEETING OF 'THE FIRST THREE.' 415
Birmingham to friends in the Isle of Wight, in the first place, and
then some day go over to Hursley. This was on September 12,
1865. But when I had got into the Birmingham train for Reading,
I felt it was like cowardice to shrink from the meeting, and I
changed my mind again. In spite of my having put off my visit
to him, I slept at Southampton, and made my appearance at
Hursley next morning without being expected. Keble was at
his door speaking to a friend. He did not know me, and asked
my name. What was more wonderful, since I had purposely
come to his house, I did not know him, and I feared to ask who
it was. I gave him my card without speaking. When at length
we found out each other, he said, with that tender flurry of manner
which I recollected so well, that his wife had been seized with an
attack of her complaint that morning, and that he could not
receive me as he should have wished to do, nor, indeed, had he
expected me, ' for Pusey,' he whispered, ' is in the house, as you
are aware of.'
Then he brought me into his study and embraced me most
affectionately, and said he would go and prepare Pusey and send
him to me.
I think I got there in the forenoon, and remained with him
four or five hours, dining at one ; he was in and out of the room
all the time I was with him, attending on his wife, and I was left
with Pusey. I recollect very little of the conversation that passed
at dinner. Pusey was full of the question of the Inspiration
of Holy Scripture, and Keble expressed his joy that it was a
common cause, in which I could not substantially differ from
him; and he quoted such words of mine as seemed to show
agreement. To his brother Dr. Pusey wrote of the meeting : ' It is
the first time I have seen him since he came to me -at
Tenby when I was ill (in 1846). We talked comfortably
about past, present, and future.'
On September 12 Dr. Pusey wrote to his son: 'I have
been reading a good deal of geology and the antiquity

41 6 LAST VISIT TO HURSLEY.
of man, for my Norwich paper.' The next day he con
tinues : — September 13.
I am writing this at Hursley, on my way back from
Christ Church to the Isle of Wight. I am staying at a beautiful
place at the back of the Island, near Black Gang Chine ; quite quiet,
and with all the repose of nature. On October 4 I have to go to
Archdeacon Bouverie from Norwich, i.e. I have to go there on the
Wednesday, to read the paper on the Thursday, and return on
the Friday.
I have nearly finished my Preface to Nahum ; so I hope I may
have less confusion of mind and occupation. But I have done
nothing more to Daniel, because I could not write the Preface
away from Oxford, nor could I gain time from physical science
during the eight days which I spent there.
This morning Newman called. It was strange for him, J. K.,
and me to be talking over old things and new at Hursley.
The summer vacation of 1 865 had been spent by Dr.
Pusey chiefly in the Isle of Wight.
' I may be late on Tuesday,' he wrote to Philip from
' Southlands,' Isle of Wight, September 29, ' because I may
stop on my way, either at Hursley or Wilson's.'
He left Southlands on Tuesday, October 3, landing at
Southampton, and called, on his way to Hursley, at Rown-
hams, of which the late Rev. R. F. Wilson was then Vicar,
but who was absent from home. His son, the present Head of
Oxford House,1 then a child, and the writer, were at Ferny-
hurst, Mr. Wilson's home, and drove with him to Hursley.
We went into Rownhams church on our way, that he
might see it, and, looking at the East window, he said
what a great thing it was for the poor and uninstructed to
1 The Rev. Bernard R. Wilson.

1865.] THE NORWICH CONGRESS. 417
have the Crucifix before them through the medium of
painted glass. We left him at Hursley Vicarage, Mr.
Keble coming to the carriage door to receive him, and
went on to Hursley Park. The bells were ringing a merry
peal for a wedding. Later in the afternoon, as we were
walking on the bowling-green, a servant came to say that
Dr. Pusey and Mr. Keble had called, and the two friends
followed him out-of-doors. Dr. Pusey looked very happy
that day, walking up and down with Sir William Heath
cote ; the day was as hot as midsummer, and we had tea
on the bowling-green. He spoke long afterwards of the
impression made on him by the beauty of the broad band
of flower-beds in full brilliance which ran the whole length
of the south front of the house. The next day he went to
Norwich, to read, at the Church Congress, on Tuesday,
October 5, his great paper on Science in relation to Reve
lation, of which the key-note may be found in his words,
' The right interpretation of God's Word will never be found
in contradiction with the right interpretation of His works.'
At the Congress Dr. Pusey received, for once, an
ovation. When he rose to deliver his speech a roar of
welcome greeted him who had been treated, even by old
friends, as a man tainted, suspected, dangerous. One who
was present told the writer that at first he gave a gracious
little smile of acknowledgment for his reception, but that
when repeated attempts to read his paper were baffled by
bursts of cheering, which seemed as if they would never
cease, then, at last, his lip trembled, and he nearly broke
down. Perhaps it was in recognition of what he would
call the 'kindness' shown him, that he, who never took
part in social gatherings, appeared at the Congress
2 E

41 8 PUBLICATION OF 'EIRENICON'
conversazione in the evening, and went up and down
amongst the crowds speaking to one and another with
happy benignity.
People wanted some way in which to be at ease that science
would have nothing to say against the Bible (he wrote to Newman,
October 20, of his reception at Norwich) ; so, as you will have
seen, they were much pleased. I am to print the paper separately,
as soon as it has had its sale in the Report of the Congress. . . .
I have just sent the Preface to Tract 90 to press. You were
amused at my saying that I had to put it off, not to have too
many things in my head at once. But so it was ; it is like having
one's brains too full of things held there, even though not entirely
at work upon them.
At Norwich Dr. Pusey also attended a meeting of
the ' Free and Open Church ' Conference, and won the
confidence and affection of the working-men by a most
sympathetic speech, in the course of which he said : —
I never can see a poor religious man without feeling the
utmost reverence for him ; and his patience, his whole character,
his self-denial, his endurance, are to me the most stupendous
proofs of the stupendous grace of God. I never see a religious
poor man without expecting, by the mercy of God, to see him far
above myself in heaven. . . .
When I was a boy myself, my lot was cast a good deal in the
west of London, and I never saw there the face of a poor man.
The first I saw was when I went to hear the most eloquent
preacher of his day, Bishop Heber. I did not see him, but I saw
what was far more blessed to me than that — a poor man standing
in the midst of the congregation, with tears streaming down his
eyes, as touched by the message which produced them. That
must be some fifty years ago, and through all that time I have
never forgotten the face of that poor man.
On October 1 1 he wrote in pencil to Mr. Keble : —
1. I think that no change ought to be made in our Common

1865.] VISIT TO FRANCE. 419
Prayers by a majority. We ought to be of one mind before we
change anything.
2. Whenever others wished to amend it in their direction, we
should prefer to amend in the direction of Edw. VI.'s Second
book, but that we held it wrong to alter our Common Prayer-book
without the consent of all, and therefore prayed that all should be
left as it is till God bring us to one mind.
The ' Eirenicon ' had just been published.1 Dr. Pusey
determined, as he wrote to Dr. Newman, to 'try and
present my book myself to some French bishops,' wishing
' to know what they would think of giving us the same
terms as Bossuet or Cardinal de Noailles would.' Perhaps
his reception at Norwich had heartened him up for this
pilgrimage — ever ready, as he was to the last, to spring
upwards, towards light and love and hope, with unquench
able brightness and ardour, whenever a gleam fell across
his path. Few could have hoped to find any prevalence
of thought such as Bossuet's now in France ; and in July
he had himself written : —
I . . . read through all the answers of the Bishops to the Pope
about the Immaculate Conception, and lately I have got into the
last Encyclical. What a strange way they are driving on ! The
last result of the Dublin Review is that the Pope is personally
infallible as to facts too, not connected with faith or morals, and
that, however he utters his pronouncements. Bellarmine is left
far behind. To his son he wrote from Paris on Tuesday, October
17, that he hoped to return on the following Friday, to
meet ' The Queen of the Sandwich Islands ' at Ascot, and
• The Church of England, a Portion of Christ's One Holy Catholic Church,
and a Means of Restoring Visible Unity. An Eirenicon in a letter to the
author of ' The Christian Year.' Oxford, 1865. ' I do not get on with my
letter to you,' he wrote during its progress. ' Alps over alps arise.'

420 HOPES OF REUNION.
baptize a Hawaiian child, to whom Queen Emma was to
be godmother. My visit to France has been very satisfactory (he wrote to
Mr. Keble, October 20), in the great kindness of the Bishop of
Coutances, the sympathetic advice of the Vicar-General of the
Bishop of Rennes, and the extreme sympathy and largeness of
view of the Archbishop of Paris. I had an hour's interview
with him on two separate days. He had followed the movement
for 20 years (he is not above fifty, I think) with great interest,
realized our position, acknowledges our Orders, was fully satisfied
ofthe grace of our Sacraments, thought that there had been mistakes
on both sides about the time of the Reformation. He thought,
after I had explained to him all our difficulties as to the practical
system of the B. V., that it was quite a practical thing to work for
reunion on the basis of the Council of Trent ; but explained in
our sense, i.e. so as not to take more than its letter required.
Dr. Pusey began a long letter to the Bishop of Brechin,
giving a detailed account of his tour, with the words : ' The
first stone is, I trust, laid on which the two Churches may
again be united — when God wills, and when human wills
obey.' He returned to England on October 20, and was
cheered by the way in which the 'Eirenicon' had been
received. ' No other work that he ever issued,' his bio
grapher writes, ' had been welcomed with so much general
favour in the Church of England.'1 Letters from such
' moderate ' men as Archdeacon Churton and Bishop
Ellicott must have been especially welcome.
Thanks, my dear Pusey (the former wrote) ; a thousand thanks,
for the instruction, the comfort, the uplifting of heart and mind
which have attended me throughout the perusal of this admirable
volume ! ... It seems to me so wonderfully to combine — what
none surely hereafter can question — such hearty love and loyalty
1 Life, iv. p. 116.

1865.] TRACT 90 REPRINTED. 421
to the English Church, . . . with the utmost scope for those
Catholic aspirations after reunion which, we do not doubt, are
also, for the wisest and most beneficial reasons and objects,
reviving in the present age of the Church.
' Now that this work is done,' Dr. Pusey wrote, imme
diately after his return from France, to Mr. Keble, ' I think
that it would be a good opportunity for publishing Tract
90. My explanation of the Articles in my letter to you is
Tract 90 in substance over again. People are now prepared
for it'
He was greatly pleased and touched by a friendly
review of his ' Eirenicon ' in the Weekly Register of November
18, 1865, by Father Lockhart, suggesting that 'reunion
on the lines mentioned by Pusey was better than per
petuated schism ; ' and wrote to thank the editor, reaffirm
ing 'his conviction that the great body of the faith was
held alike by both, and that the Council of Trent demanded
nothing which could not be explained to the satisfaction
of English Churchmen, if explained authoritatively.'
In a letter to Mr. Copeland (December 15, 1865), he
mentions also ' a five-columned respectful review ' of the
book in the Times, from which he argued there would
be no Protestant outcry, 'else the Times would not have
committed itself.'
But he for whose approval and sympathy with his
' Eirenicon ' he cared most did not take it as he hoped, and
a long correspondence between the friends ended, as is well
known, in Newman's published answer to the ' Eirenicon.'
Dr. Pusey wrote to him, November 1 : —
I omitted one thing which the Archbishop of Paris said,
relatively to yourself : ' He would be the person to draw up a

422 CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. NEWMAN.
theological formula on the points upon which you desire explana
tion. . . .' I did not take down his words, but his idea was that,
should, by God's blessing, the English Church desire explanations,
you would be the person to draw up such explanations as the
Roman commission might give, and we receive. . . .
The whole work was so entirely without any will of my own
(or, rather, against it), and it grew so without my will, into an
Eirenicon instead of a mere defence; and now it has been so
well received that I cannot but hope that God will do something
with it. November 2.
Forgive me. The last thing which I should wish to do
would be to dispute with you. I only want to explain what I meant.
. . . Well, I hope the explanation is not worse than the book. It
is a great sorrow to me that you should think the book an attack.
On the back of this letter is written, in Dr. Newman's
hand : —
My dear Pusey, — I think I quite gathered from your book
what you bring out so clearly in your letter of this morning. My
great anxiety is, that I consider the substantial framework of it
will not strike the mass of readers, but they will go off upon the
other portions of it : its, what is to Protestants such good food.
If I am led to publish anything, of which I have no present inten
tion, I should treat of it simply as an Irenicon, as you intend it.
November 6.
I am, as you see, in this dilemma (Dr. Pusey replied) :
if I do not state difficulties, I seem unreal ; if I state them, I seem
controversial. The idea of 'union on the basis of the Council of Trent
explamed ' is, I trust, fairly launched ; and it is a great thing to
have a definite idea before people. God help it ! I trust that He
Who must have put into hearts to pray, will effect what, by His
inspiration, they pray for.

1865.] SECOND VISIT TO FRANCE. 423
I hope that people will look at the main drift of the book, and
that, notwithstanding details, the title will be the key to the book.
Undated, about end of 1865.
I hear that Manning has bidden Lockhart write the other
side ' of the difficulties of reunion,' of which there are, of course,
plenty, but that he admits that a reunion on the principle of
Bossuet would be preferable to prolonged schism.
E. B. P. to Rev. J. Keble. December 16.
I am going to France again on Tuesday. I have been
in a whirl outside, and yet it is wonderful how quietly everything
has been taken. It seems like a great harbinger of future peace.
All Xmas wishes.
Your most affecte. E. B. P.
He did not return to Oxford from this second visit to
France until January 19, 1866. In Paris he again saw the
Archbishop (Mgr. Darboy), and, at Orleans, the saintly
Bishop Dupanloup. Later, he went southwards, had ' two
long interviews ' at Biarritz with the Bishop, and dined, at
Bordeaux, with the Archbishop. Concerning his inter
course with the bishops he expressed hopeful thankfulness.
To his son he wrote, from Marseilles, on Christmas
Day:— December 25, 1865.
All Christmas blessings, though God, I trust, will hear
them, not you, till Christmas is past. The way to God is so
straight ; along this earth things move, even with our best speed,
so slow. I am writing the University sermon. The Spanish boat is
delayed this week, so it is not to be in till to-morrow ; and I do

424 CHRISTMAS AT MARSEILLES.
not know what my next destination will be. I saw several whom
I was glad to see at Paris, the Archbishop again, ... the Pere
Gratry, who received me most lovingly, and a very intelligent
Bishop of la RocheUe, so that my days at Paris were well filled
up. All very kind, and I walked and sat in [visiting]1 from
n a.m., or sooner, to 7.30 p.m., and set off the next morning at
7.30 a.m. So God mercifully continues my strength.
Hotel Victoria, Marseilles, Feast of St. Stephen.
I am here alone. ... I am staying on here quietly in
a comfortable hotel, outside the town. Tell me what your weather
is, as I should like to compare the weather of Marseilles and
England. Here the sun is very warm, but the winds cold ; and it
has frozen every night. The first frost I saw was at Lyons, on
Friday morning. Feast of Holy Innocents.
I have so little news here — as if I were in another planet.
So much the better, for there is little good to hear. You will be
glad to know that I have finished my University sermon for the
28th. I am living in very nice, sunny rooms, in a house standing by
itself in the country, with a beautiful view of a chain of hills, with
all the varied forms of granite, so that, but for their height, they
might be mountains. . . .
I have just resumed the examination of Nahum's Hebrew.
So I have done work such as I can only do in vacation ; ... the
examination paper to-day, finished my sermon to-day, thank God,
and now one and a half chapters of Nahum.
God give you all blessings abundantly in this new year.
Best New Year wishes to William, Aunt C, and Fr.2
Your very loving father,
E. B. P.
It was probably during this visit to France that he met,
in a railway carriage, M. Frangois Lagrange, afterwards
Bishop of Chartres, who, in his first 'Lettre Pastorale,'
1 Word partly torn. 2 Mrs. William Pusey, and her daughter Frances.

1865.] MEETING WITH MGR. LAGRANGE. 425
twenty-five years later, told the story of their meeting,
in touching words.
II nous arriva un jour de nous trouver seul en wagon avec le
celebre docteur Pusey. Nous demeurames stupeTaits de voir cet
homme, qui avait franchi des abimes, arrete* aux portes de la vraie
Eglise . . . mais il e"tait empire" Ik. Apres la discussion, voyant
que nous prenions nos livres de priere, il nous demanda de reciter
l'office du jour avec nous. . . . Quand nous eumes fini, nous le
vimes, emu par la beaute" de cette belle liturgie catholique, joindre
les deux mains, baisser la tSte, fermer les yeux, et laisser e"chapper
de grosses larmes que, silencieux et respectueux, nous regardions
tomber. Tout k coup, e"levant la voix, il dit, ' Je crois explicite-
ment tout ce que je sais revele", et implicitement tout ce qui Test.' J
1 See Life, iv. p. 133, note.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXIII.
Amongst Dr. Pusey's papers there is a copy, in his handwriting,
of the following letter to a French bishop. There is no address
on it, and nothing to show to whom it was written.
Monseigneur, — Je ne dois pas occuper votre temps qui doit
etre si precieux a la diocese, que Dieu vous a commise, mais je
crains de m'avoir mal explique- aujourd'hui, et vous avoir donne"
une fausse idee de mes sentiments. Ce n'est pas que je ne pense
pas qu'il y a une grande difference entre I'Eglise Catholique
Romaine et I'Eglise Anglicane. Un ecrivain dans le Dublin
Review (qui est lui mSme beaucoup plus Ultramontaine que
Bellarmine) dit que la difference entre les sentiments que j'ai
nouvellement publics et les siens est bien profonde. Pour moi,
le systeme a 1'egard de la tres sainte Mere de Dieu m'a toujours
pre'sente' les plus grandes difficulte's. II a 6t6 toujours ma 'crux,'
comme le Docteur Newman a dit, que, pendant qu'il 6ta.it
Anglican, c'e"tait la sienne ; je crois que c'est la difficult^, qui
detourne les Anglais, de quelque e*cole qu'ils soient, de I'Eglise
Catholique Romaine. Seulement je pense, que I'Eglise Catho
lique Romaine n'a jamais define", comme de foi, les points, qui
nous presentent les plus grandes difficulte's, et que si, par exemple,
I'Eglise Romaine voudrait prononcer ce qui est de foi, et ce qui
ne Test pas, la plus grande part de nos difficulte's, et des pre'juge's
de mes compatriotes pourraient bien disparaitre. C'est ce que
j'ai essaye- d'indiquer a mes compatriotes dans le volume que j'ai
voulu vous presenter, Monseigneur, si je ne m'etais pas apercu
qu'il ne vous serait pas acceptable. L'Eglise Anglicane, Mon
seigneur, consiste de quelques millions, elle s'accroit tous les

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXIII. 427
jours; elle gagne beaucoup plus de ceux qui se sont separe*s
d'elle, qu'elle ne perd. Elle est repandu dans tous les continents,
Nord Ame'rique, Sud Afrique, les Indes Orientales, New Zealand.
L'Australie doit devenir quatre ou cinq grandes nations. Per-
mettez moi de vous dire, Monseigneur, que ce serait un grand
ceuvre de charite" de faire tout ce qui est possible pour reunir une
Eglise si etendue et, \ ce moment, si feconde. Permettez moi
encore de vous exprimer, Monseigneur, les sentiments de la
reconnaissance la plus profonde pour la bonte que vous m'avez
montre aujourd'hui, et pour 1'assurance que vous voulez vous
ressouvenir de moi dans vos saintes prieres.
J'ai l'honneur d'etre, Monseigneur,
Votre tres humble et tres obeissant serviteur,
E. B. Pusey.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE VATICAN COUNCIL.
1866-1870.
Oh Life ! without thy chequered scene
Of right and wrong, of weal and woe,
Success and failure, could a ground
For magnanimity be found,
For faith, 'mid ruined hopes serene ?
Or whence could virtue flow ?
Wordsworth.
' The date reminds me to wish you joy on having finished
one more year of your pilgrimage, and on the greater near
ness of the Vision of God,' Dr. Pusey wrote to Dr. Newman
on the birthday ofthe latter, February 21, 1866.
The first 3000 copies of the Pamphlet containing Tract
90, with Dr. Pusey's historical Preface, and Mr. Keble's
Letter (written in 1843) on the Tract, were sold by March,
1866, and a fresh issue needed.
Hawkins alone of the Heads (Dr. Pusey wrote) bristled up a
little, and his bristles are gone down. Plumptre was quite satisfied.
Indeed, it shows the marvellous change, that one can publish
Tract 90, and all its history, without the slightest commotion.
Only, we were then in the prime of life, younger than our perse
cutors, now I am an old man.
Before March had ended, one of the three friends whose
names had just appeared together for the last time ended

1866.] MR. KEBLE'S DEATH. 429
his earthly task. Mr. Keble had spent the winter at
Bournemouth, watching by the death-bed of his wife. He
wrote on January 20, 1866 : —
Dearest Pusey, — You have heard rightly ; my dear wife is,
I believe soon, to be taken away from me. Pray that it may not
be for ever,
When I say ' soon,' I do not know, for I do not inquire about
the probable time.
To another, writing of her increasing weakness and
suffering, he adds —
So, if possible, do her calmness and sweetness increase. I sit
and look at her till I wonder how it ever can be that some whom
I know are allowed to entertain a hope of being with such an one
in the same home for ever. But we are taught to believe greater
things than that : might we but be found worthy !
On Wednesday in Passion week (March 21) he was
praying by her bedside, when he fainted, and was carried
to bed in the next room. He was too weak ever to walk
again, but was wheeled in a chair to sit by his wife for three
days. After Saturday he lay dying, mostly insensible,
though his lips moved constantly in prayer, and he told his
attendant that ' all was right ; there was a large upper room
prepared, it was swept and garnished, and he was waiting
to go.' In an interval of consciousness he asked if his wife
was gone, and said, on being told she was still here, ' Tell
her we shall go together, perhaps not quite together, but
very nearly, and tell her I am always praying for her.' He
passed to his rest at one o'clock a.m. on Maundy Thursday,
March 29, 1866.

430 DR. PUSEYS LONELINESS.
On Easter Eve Dr. Pusey wrote to Newman from
Chale : —
I hear that others have told you of the departure of our dear
friend. I only heard it this morning. I know little, probably, or
nothing to add to what you have heard. People so often mistake
speechlessness for unconsciousness. However, I hear that there
was some wandering, but that all the conscious time was spent in
prayer ; I doubt not, what they call the unconscious too.
No earthly loss could have so pierced Dr. Pusey's heart
as that of the friend closely and lovingly associated with
him from early youth ; and who, since Dr. Newman's
secession, had been his dearest and entirely trusted
counsellor. To him, for twenty years, he had turned in
every difficulty and sorrow, and in the many hundreds of
letters, often written daily, to Mr. Keble, there breathes the
same unvarying spirit of tender and grateful reverence, of
entire and simple confidence.
In some finely strung natures there seems a more than
common antipathy to death, of revolt against his power, of
intense pain at the tragedy of ' he shall turn again to his
earth, and then all his thoughts perish ; ' and Dr. Pusey
always refused to contemplate the death of any one whom
he loved — hoping against hope to the end, sorrow-stricken
when it came. His grief and loneliness when this blow
came were intense. ' I had so hoped,' he wrote, ' that we
should have had him, by God's mercy, for years to come,
if I should see years myself.'
There was the additional sorrow of knowing that Mr.
Keble's saintly wife, whom he greatly loved and valued,
was on a death-bed of acute suffering. She arranged all,
however, for her husband's funeral, which was to have been

1866.] FUNERAL AT HURSLEY. 431
on the Wednesday after his death, but she begged it might
be put off till Friday (April 6), hoping to be buried with
him. A very old and beloved friend of the Kebles, and of
Dr. Pusey, wrote to him, on April 2, to ask him "whether
it would be wrong for all who love them to send up one
stream of prayer that she might be set free before Friday.'
He replied at once : — Easter Tuesday, 1866.
Death is so solemn an act, the last moment of God's
love to the soul in its state of probation and of growth, and a time
when He Himself, I believe, often does so much for it, that I
should not like to pray for anything in regard to it, except for
God's grace in a fuller stream to her. The wish to be buried with
him, with whom she was one, is a natural and beautiful human
feeling ; still, it is only human, and her deepest wish must be, that
God's will, whatever it be, should be exactly fulfilled, in her and
to her. He went to the Rev.Frewen Moor's, Ampfield Parsonage,
about two miles from Hursley, on Easter Thursday, April
5. All that was mortal of his friend was brought that
evening from Bournemouth to Chandler's Ford Station,
and he joined the clergy, churchwardens, and parishioners
who went on the road to Ladwell to meet it, and bring it
to the home which had been Mr. Keble's for thirty years.
Before going to bed (Dr. Liddon wrote in his diary), we [Dr.
Pusey, I, and Tom Keble] went into the study where the Body is
laid out, with a cross of white primroses stretching the entire length
of the coffin, and a cross and candles at the end. We remained
there in prayer for an hour.
The celebration next morning by Mr. Upton Richards
was at eight o'clock. One who had charge of the vest
ments, etc., told the writer that when all had left the

432 PROJECT OF KEBLE COLLEGE.
church, Dr. Pusey knelt down in the chancel by the coffin,
embracing it, and laying his head as near as he could to
that of his friend, in an abandonment of grief 'most
touching to witness.'
Afterwards (Dr. Liddon wrote) I found Dr. Pusey in his
bedroom . . . quite overcome, unable to speak. With great
difficulty could I persuade him to take any food. We went up
to the Park and saw the Bishop of Salisbury ; and the plan of a
college at Oxford, which I had started the night before at Hursley
Vicarage, was agreed upon. It is to be called the Keble College.
Matins at 11.30, followed by the actual Burial Service. The
Doctor again nearly broke down when the coffin was lowered
into the grave.1
Another who was present wrote : —
The stream of clergy who followed from the church to the
grave seemed as if it would never end, but at last we made our
way out, and by degrees got nearer and nearer, till I found E. B. P.
and Mr. Liddon, who never seemed to leave his side. ... I
signed to Charlotte 2 that we must not pass him. When all was
over we moved on, still close to him, for that one look, which
was to be our last, ' till we, too, sleep and our last long sleep be
o'er.' . . . We walked away . . . still next to him, and when we
got quite out of the churchyard, and at the turn up to the Vicarage,
I could not help just slipping my hand into his, and getting one
look and one squeeze, but no word.
He wrote to Newman : —
I am now returned from Hursley. The church was full of
mourners, as you will well think. But there is nothing to add.
For he was away. . . .
When he was wandering he spoke of the reunion of the
Churches, and I think that he spoke as if he were present at it.
But I will ask more accurately.
1 Life, iv. p. 139. • Miss Yonge.

1866.1 LETTERS FROM DR. NEWMAN. 433
Dr. Pusey's feeling of loneliness and sadness on return
ing to Oxford was intensified by a note from Newman,
April 20, 1 866 —
. . . You will be distressed to know (what is not yet decided,
and, please, don't mention it) that it is very likely after all that I
shall go to Oxford. I have been urged now for the third time.
We have made conditions, but the chance is they will be accepted.
It is a great trial to me. I had quite given up the idea.
Ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.
That the coming of him whom he loved and honoured
almost more than any one on earth could only cause distress
to both, was keenly felt by Dr. Pusey. He replied in a
tone of deep depression : — Christ Church, April 21, 1866.
Thank you for the information which you have given
me. The one thing which I have desired is not to be in collision
with you. Perhaps before you come I shall be gone. A little
more than four years will complete the threescore and ten. The
Memorial of dearest J. K. seems likely to take the shape of a
College for diligent students living simply (100 of them). I took
a part in promoting it. Had I known the intention of your
authorities, I don't think I could have done it, i.e, had the heart
to do it.
The following was Dr. Newman's reply : —
The Oratory, Birmingham, April 29, 1866.
My dear Pusey, — I am grieved to think it vexes you so much
to hear of the chance of our going to Oxford. You may be sure
we should not go to put ourselves in opposition to you, or to come
in collision with the theological views which you represent. Of
2 F

434 LETTER FROM DR. NEWMAN.
course, we never could conceal our convictions, nor is it possible
to control the action of great principles when they are thrown
upon the face of society ; but it would be a real advantage to the
cause of truth if our opinions were known more accurately than
they are generally known by Anglicans. For instance, what
surprise has been expressed at what I have said in my letter to
you about our doctrines of original sin and the Immaculate Con
ception ! Even now most men think that I have not stated them
fairly, and so with many other doctrines. I should come to
Oxford for the sake of the Catholic youth there, who are likely to
be, in the future, more numerous than they are now ; and my first
object, after that, would be to soften prejudice against Catholicism
by showing how much exaggeration is used by Anglicans in
speaking of it. I do trust you will take a more hopeful view of
my coming, if I do come, which is not certain.
Personally, it would be as painful a step as I could be called
to make. Oxford never can be to me what it was. It and I are
severed ; it would be Hke the dead visiting the dead. I should
be a stranger in my dearest home. I look forward to it with
great distress, and certainly would not contemplate it except
under the imperative call of duty. But I trust that God will
strengthen me, when the time comes, if it is to come ; and I trust
He will strengthen you.
I wish I could do more than lament over the misunderstand
ings which you suffer at the hands of Catholics; but it is the
necessary penalty of controversialists. I do all I can against it,
but can do very little. I can't be sorry that you are about De
Bandelis, for it is well to have all the facts out in the sight of day.
So far you must be doing a service. When you really take a
thing up, you do it thoroughly ; the complaint which our people
made of you was, that there are many points which you had not
really taken up. God bless you, my dear Pusey, and comfort
you in your present bereavement. Ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.
An extract from a letter of Dr. Newman's 'to a friend'

1866.] WORK IN EAST LONDON. 435
has been sent, with permission to insert it here, by the
great kindness of Father Neville. June 10, 1866.
After all, it is all but certain that we are going to
Oxford. Our Bishop proposed it to me three successive years,
and I could not refuse ; but I look on the prospect of being there
with extreme dismay. I have parted with it for once and all, and
it is opening wounds which are quite healed. And I want to be
in peace, when, for what I know, I may not have many years
more. It is a great mark of confidence in him, and that alone
makes it almost a duty in me to accept it, considering the various
controversies going on around and about me.
The Long Vacation of 1866 brought comfort, though
not relaxation, to Dr. Pusey, in devoting himself to the
poor during a severe outbreak of cholera in East London,
and in August he was living in lodgings at No. 18, City
Road, where he worked amongst the sick for three months,
aided, later, by his son, and by the present Lord Halifax.
There is a long letter in Dr. Liddon's biography from the
Rev. S. Hansard, rector at this time of Bethnal Green, from
which the following extracts are taken.
There came upon the East End of London what may be called
a sudden explosion of cholera, in a more virulent and ' plague
like ' form than had hitherto been experienced in England. . . .
The cholera was raging round the Parish Church and Town Hall,
where the Vestry, under the Rector, assembled daily. . . . My
curates were ill, unable to do any duty. ... I had been up for
several nights running, to two or three in the morning, attending to
the sick. Wearied and at my wits' end as to how I could possibly
help my Vestry through their arduous duty, I had come down to
a late breakfast at nine o'clock, when my servant announced
Dr. Pusey. He had with him a letter of introduction from the
Bishop. His pleasant smile, his genial manner, his hearty sympathy,

436 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES.
expressed in a manner so winning and sincere, at once introduced
him. He needed no letter. He not only put me at my ease at
once, but he made me feel at one with him directly. During
breakfast he said he had heard of my working single-handed just
then, and as I must give a great portion of my time to my Vestry,
... he offered to act as my assistant curate, to visit the sick and
dying whom I could not visit, in my stead, and to minister to their
spiritual wants. And he did so. Quietly and unobtrusively this
true gentleman, this humble servant of Christ, assisted me in this
most trying duty of visiting the plague-stricken homes of the
poor of Bethnal Green.1
It was also just after Mr. Keble's death that the first
real agitation against Ritual began — a fresh difficulty for
Dr. Pusey, to be met without the counsel on which he
had so long leaned.2 Not that he was ever among the
' Ritualists,' but outward expressions of the doctrine which
he and they held in common were all branded as ' Pusey
ism,' whether he approved of them or not. There is a
letter of his, written not a month after Mr. Keble's death,
to Dr. Tait, then Bishop of London, during the riots at
St. George's-in-the-East, in which he tries to explain his
position, and his powerlessness to hinder much which he
thought unwise.
The clearest expression of his'whole view ofthe subject
was given in his speech on joining the English Church
Union, at its seventh anniversary meeting, June 14, 1866,
and in the course of which he uttered the remarkable
words : ' All that we now claim is the same toleration
for reverence which is freely conceded to irreverence.1
1 Life, iv. p. 142.
' In his diary on the day of Mr. Keble's funeral Dr. Liddon says : ' I
never saw Dr. Pusey so broken as to-day. He seemed to feel quite terribly
the weight of responsibility which had devolved on him.'

1866.] SPEECH AT ENGLISH CHURCH UNION. 437
In our early days (he said in the course of his speech) we
were anxious on the subject of ritual. . . . Everything was on a
cold level. What we had to do was to rouse the Church to a
sense of what she possessed ; and, being ourselves as nothing, so
to teach her that she should herself act in all things healthfully
from herself. We had further a distinct fear with regard to
ritual ; and we privately discouraged it, lest the whole movement
should become superficial. At that time everything we did
was very popular ; and we felt that it was very much easier to
change a dress than to change the heart, and that externals
might be gained at the cost of the doctrines themselves. To
have introduced ritual before the doctrines had widely taken
possession of the hearts of the people, would only have been to
place an obstruction in their way. It would have been like
children sticking flowers in the ground to perish immediately.
Our office was rather, so to speak, to plant the bulb where, by
God's blessing, it might take root and grow and flower beautifully,
naturally, healthfully, fragrantly, lastingly.
In the same speech he said that what he had most
feared was too much ease, too much quiet, and that he had
once said to a friend, ' We want a good North-Easter ; '
who, a few years later, reminded him of it, and said,
' You've got it now.'
Dr. Newman had published, in January, 1866, an answer
to Dr. Pusey's ' Eirenicon,' complaining especially of extracts
given from popular books of devotion to illustrate Roman
teaching as to the blessed Virgin. To this answer
Dr. Pusey immediately began a reply, but it was delayed
by his work at Bethnal Green in 1866, and other later
labours in view of the approaching Vatican Council. He
wrote privately to Dr. Newman on the subject (January
26, 1867), trying to lessen anything which pained his friend
in what he had written.

43§ LETTERS TO DR. NEWMAN.
(i) It is quite true that the ' Eirenicon ' was begun simply as
a defence. It was put upon me in a way in which I did not think
it right to refuse: 'You must answer Manning.' I therefore,
exceedingly against the grain, began it. (2) I remember how it
came suddenly upon me when I had made some progress, ' Is
this to be all ? Is it to be always mere defence ? ' And then I
gave it the turn of making it an ' Eirenicon.' (3) It would be
true, also, that, having minimized differences as much as I could,
I thought that it would be untrue to our people not to tell them
what the real difficulties were which kept me where I am, and
which, as I think, justify the position of the English Church, and
are, as I hope, a providential occasion of its existence.
. . . When I was intending to publish French and German
translations of the ' Eirenicon,' I asked the Archbishop of Paris
whether I should omit or retain what I had said as to the popular
system (I had presented the book to him). He said, 'Retain
them, both on the ground which you mention, of not seeming to
wear two faces, and say things in England which you do not say
here ; and also they are your difficulties. Of course, I do not
agree with them ; but you have stated them fairly, and it is well
that they should be considered.'
Of course, if we are weakened (he wrote, January 22), we are
less likely to get good terms from Rome, and Archbishop Manning
seems to anticipate that he shall swallow us up and assimilate us.
Your voice is very musical still ; I hope that it will be heard
among your people as well as ours, for long.
Easter Wednesday [April 15], 1867.
I thought that our Orders would be acknowledged when
examined, but now are we to be called upon to submit the question
to those who have pre-judged it often on grounds disallowed by
other ? . . . This must not hinder my doing what I can to pre
dispose to union, though it puts off what I hoped immeasurably.
It is not, as your people are apt to suppose, a personal question
with us. I should be very well content to remain like Oxenham,
performing no sacerdotal acts. But a conditional ordination

I867-] LETTERS TO DR. NEWMAN. 439
(which, I fear, has been spoken of) implies, of course, a doubt as
to all the past sacraments which one has administered. This, I,
for one, could not do. And not only the past sacraments which
one has oneself administered, but all administered by any within
our communion, or which shall be administered !
However, one must go on like Abraham, not knowing whither
he went. And removal of difficulties or misunderstandings is right
anyhow. I trust that St. Catherine of Genoa's doctrine (which
seems, in the main, that of Gerontius) will remove a good many
difficulties as to Purgatory. . . .
It seems to me that we have been looking at the two sides of
the shield : we, on the joy ; your people almost exclusively on the
suffering. All Easter joy.
On the question, between the two communions, of
purification in another life, he said, in an undated
note : —
(i) I can hardly imagine any one, in the face of i Cor. iii. 13,
not believing that the day of the particular judgment must be the
intensest pain, more than, in the flesh, we could conceive. (2) I
can hardly think how any thoughtful person, knowing how little
God is longed for here, could think that a soul which longed for
Him so little here should be admitted at once to the sight of
Him ; and that that delay, even if it is sure of its salvation, should
not be intense pain, when it knows (apart from the distractions of
the world) how God is the one object of love.
I have found enough as to St. Catherine of Genoa in the
' Bollandists ' x (he says in another letter). They are beautiful
pieces of S. F. de Sales, and he, too, owed them to St. Catherine.
What a wonderful afterwork of the grace in her, and now, through
Faber and Manning's translation, to us. It seems to change the
whole aspect of Purgatory.
1 Of her writings on Purgatory. Dr. Pusey says in another note : 'I find that,
unknowingly, I had much the same result in my " Eirenicon," that there might
be at once, inexpressible suffering, and inconceivable joy after this life.'

440 SERMON ON HOLY EUCHARIST.
Lest there should be any possible misunderstanding as
to his entire oneness in doctrine with ' Ritualists,' Dr. Pusey
again, in his University sermon of May, 1867, re-affirmed,
and with most definite statements, the doctrine of the Holy
Eucharist, ending with words which staked everything in
this world on that doctrine being held by the English
communion. These truths I would gladly have to maintain, by the help of
God, on such terms that, if (per impossibile, as I trust) it should be
decided by a competent authority that either the Real Objective
Presence, or the Eucharistic Sacrifice, or the worship of Christ
there present (as I have above stated those doctrines), were con
trary to the doctrine held by the Church of England, I would
resign my office.
The Long Vacation of 1 867 was spent, partly alone, at
Chale, Isle of Wight ; but, he wrote to his son, July 9, ' I
am not lonely, with my thoughts and my books.' By
the middle of August he was at Ascot, and reported,
' The heath is in great glory, the smell of the pines very
refreshing, the milk very invigorating, and the quiet most
soothing.' His time was chiefly occupied during this summer in
helping Bishop Forbes with his book on the Thirty-nine
Articles. Correspondence with Dr. Newman was also at
this time very frequent, the more so when, in June, 1867,
the Pope, Pius IX., declared his intention of calling a
Council at the Vatican, of all bishops of the Roman
communion. There is a letter from Dr. Newman, of July 21, to Dr.
Pusey, expressing surmises as to the object of this famous
Council, too interesting to pass over entirely.

1867.] VATICAN COUNCIL ANNOUNCED. 44I
It is very difficult to get at all the reasons, perhaps the chief
and most important reasons, why a Council is to be held. . . .
The other day our Bishop, writing from Rome, gave these reasons,
viz. : it was to be called ' to modify the Canon law, at the wish of
the French bishops, and to confirm the dogma of the Immaculate
Conception.' . . .
What other objects there are no one knows, except, perhaps, a
certain number of bishops and ecclesiastics, who at present are
bound to secrecy. That there is a party who would push the
Pope's Infallibility, and be unscrupulous in doing so, I can easily
believe too ; but this to me personally is no trouble, for they
cannot go beyond the divine will and revealed truth. . . .
Whether the bishops, on the other hand, will be disposed to
take the Pope's Infallibility as part of the original faith, I cannot
divine ; I know too Httle about them.
I am disappointed (Dr. Newman wrote in July, 1867) at your
not bringing out your Letter to me x . . . those who do not love
you give out that you ought either to answer your opponents, or
to allow you cannot.
E. B. P. to Rev. J. H. Newman.
My dearest N., — Certainly this General Council involves a
duty on those who believe as I do, to do what we can. ... I
must drop my ietter to you, upon which I spent so much time and
strength, for it only aggravated difficulties. . . . And now, in the
prospect of a General Council of the West, one has rather to see
how one can soften difficulties. Meanwhile, as you will have
seen, occasion has been taken of the Ritual question to make
capital for those who wish to drive us out of the Church ; and
people are so engrossed with this one question, that I do not
know what they will attend to. Else I have had that other
pamphlet always in my head, ' Cannot Rome make explanations
which we can accept ? ' or better, ' Is not mutual explanation
between Rome and England possible ? '
1 Eirenicon, part ii.

442 LAYING FIRST STONE OF KEBLE COLLEGE.
I always remember your birthday (Dr. Newman wrote, August
22), though I don't commonly write to you upon it; and this
morning I have been saying Mass, with a prayer that God will
teach you and all yours His blessed will in all things.
On St. Mark's Day, April 25, 1868, the anniversary of
Mr. Keble's birthday, Dr. Pusey had the great joy of seeing
the first stone laid by the Archbishop of Canterbury, of
Keble College.
In his speech afterwards, at a great meeting in the
Sheldonian Theatre, Dr. Pusey said that soon after Mr.
Keble's death he felt that he would have been glad that
the 'Christian Year' should have been his only monu
ment. A work which in words of simple beauty had awakened, and
would awaken in human i hearts, as long as our language shall
endure, thoughts of truth and awe and chastened love, and pure
faith, and deep reverence and spiritual devotion, was a monument,
aere perennius, written anew in the souls of successive generations,
who would bless him who taught them.
To Newman he wrote, May 11: —
It was very delightful to see the deep sympathy with J. K.
two years after he had gone to his rest. How those who we
remember are passing away ! I only heard the other day that
Dornford was gone. I was grieved to hear of your loss in dear
Badeley. I loved him much, though it is long since I saw
him. In everything connected with the foundation of Keble
College Dr. Pusey had taken the deepest interest, anxiously
watching the development of the undertaking, and corre
sponding on the subject with Sir William Heathcote and

I867-I CONSTITUTION OF KEBLE COLLEGE. 443
other chief promoters of the Memorial to their friend.
Throughout the preparatory arrangements for the College
Dr. Pusey's chief anxiety was that- it should be one, as to
religious teaching, which Mr. Keble would have approved,
and to try and secure it from State interference in the
future. On the latter point Sir W. Heathcote had written
to him (April 16, 1866) :—
You must not comfort yourself by reference to Law, when the
very object of the modern Acts of Parliament which alarm one is
to introduce a new state of Law.
You would be surprised if I were to tell you who told me
to-day that he should be ready to give ^1000, if we could secure
ourselves as to the permanence of the Church character of the
Institution. It is sufficient for the present to say he is one against whom
you have probably no small prejudice.
Ever very affectionately yours,
William Heathcote.
You have already made a great beginning (Sir William had
written in 1867). Have you conferred with the Vice-Chancellor
about the matter, especially as to the status of such a Hall ? I
suppose I must not think of a College, whatever amount of money
we get, because of the greater danger of being dealt with by
Parliament. To Newman Dr. Pusey wrote, May 2 : —
Yesterday I was in London about a new association for prayer
for the reunion of Christendom, the well-being of the Church,
especially [in] England. Of course R. Cs can't join in it ; but
prayer which goes up apart may meet in Heaven.
I saw my name ' P  ism,' in large placards carried about
the streets, charging us with a 'Conspiracy to bring England
under the Pope.' So that Dublin and Weekly Register might be a

444 LETTER FROM DR. NEWMAN.
little more merciful. However, it is all one ; only, I wish they
loved us a little better.
Thank you for your Easter blessing. All good be with you
always. Your most affectionate,
E. B. P.
Bishop Forbes (of Brechin) had paid a visit to Rome,
hoping to do something to promote reunion, but was
disappointed at the reception there of overtures from him
self individually. Dr. Newman said, writing on the subject
to Dr. Pusey : — The Oratory, Birmingham, May 24, 1868.
... I am sorry at your and the Bishop of B.'s dis
couragement, but any one in England would have confidently said
beforehand how he would be received at Rome. The central
authority cannot profess to relax. E.g. thirty years ago the
national system of education was introduced into Ireland. Rome
only kept silence. It is the utmost that could be expected of it.
Again, take Maynooth and the Maynooth oath; if Rome had
been obliged to speak, it could only have disapproved ; therefore
it did not speak.
All such local matters it leaves to the local bishops ; it never
acts without the local bishops, they ever have the formal initiative.
It puts a veto on their proceedings, or does not, but it does not
originate ; and, if it is obliged to speak, it speaks according to the
strictest rule of ecclesiastical principle and tradition. . . . There
fore I think it was a mistake if the Bishop of B. applied to ;the
highest authorities of Rome. . . . The proper organs for negotia
tion are local Bishops with local Bishops. At the same time, I
do not expect anything would have come of that either just now.
The local Bishops are the proper channels of communication
between the English people, or a portion of them, and Rome.
It is their duty to soften difficulties, not to increase them. I

1868.I LETTER FROM DR. NEWMAN. 445
cannot deny that Archbishop Manning has done everything in his
power to increase them, not to soften them.
As far as I know the history of former attempts at reconcilia
tion, they bear out what I have said. It must be recollected that
then religion was national and political to an extent in which it is
not now.
Bossuet represented not only a local hierarchy, but a political
power ; Leibnitz in like manner was, I think, a sort of agent for
Protestant governments. There were then constitutional organs
of reconciliation which do not exist now. Were there any chance
now of bodies being reconciled to Rome, Rome would take the
extraordinary step of regarding the case of bodies, but it will not
make concession to individuals. . . . The Bishop of Brechin (I
speak under correction) represented nothing tangible. ... I
know this is a discouraging view to take, but I do think it is
the true one. I don't deny, as you say, that the Pope is just now
approachable only through a few men . . . but any other Pope,
it seems to me, would act mainly in the same way as regards the
Church of England. ... I have answered incidentally your
question about Bishop Forbes's learned and most interesting
work. It will excite very little feeling among English Catholics,
except one of opposition. What can be done, when Ward has
become proprietor of the Dublin Review, and Manning is the
official counsellor of the authorities at Rome ? These two facts
are such remarkable accidents, that they seem to be providential.
I do not see what can be done at present.
Lest I should be mistaken, I must add that I do think com
munion with Rome is necessary for a person being in the visible
Church. Indeed, did I not think so, I never should have left the
Anglican Church. Ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.1
During the summer vacation of 1868, numerous letters
passed to and fro between the Isle of Wight and the
1 The omissions in the above letter are for the sake of brevity, and to
avoid some repetition. Nothing of importance is omitted.

446 EFFORTS FOR REUNION.
Oratory, Birmingham, as to the possibility of Dr. Pusey
taking any measures for bringing the question of reunion
with England before the Vatican Council.
Dr. Newman was not hopeful on the subject, although
he says in his letter of July 21,' I don't suppose the Infalli
bility of the Pope would have a chance of being defined, if
the alternative lay between defining it and the recon
ciliation of the Anglican Church.' But he wrote later
(September 4), ' I don't think that at Rome they will
attend to anything which comes from one person or
several persons, however distinguished.' Still, all through
the summer Dr. Pusey spent thought and time over long
letters, and labour of various kinds in every possible
attempt to forward what lay nearest to his heart, en
couraged by a most kind letter from Mgr. Darboy, so soon
to die a martyr, expressing his belief that there would
be no difficulty in obtaining from Rome a pronouncement
as to propositions representing the maximum of possible
concessions by England ; and offering himself ' de mener
tres discretement l'affaire a. bonne fin, et de vous faire
avoir une reponse authentique.' * The saintly Bishop of
Orleans, Mgr. Dupanloup, had also, Dr. Pusey wrote
(Chale, I.W., October 6, 1868), 'offered himself to take to
Rome any propositions as to our maximum which I would
send him, and to obtain an opinion there, whether they
were Catholic'
Thank you most lovingly for your long letter (he wrote to
Newman from Chale, August 13). Things, as you say, are very
discouraging. If I looked only to human hopes I should fold
my hands ; but it must be God Who puts into people's hearts to
1 'Paris le 21 Mars, 1868,' See Life, etc., iv. p. 154.

1868-1 CORRESPONDENCE ON REUNION. 447
pray for reunion, and I hope He will overrule hearts to effect it,
as shall be healthful. True, that there are not political helps as
formerly, but there is a common foe, infidelity, and I trust a
common faith. Separate, we fight at disadvantage. Thoughtful
men told me in France that the middle classes were lost to the
Church (speaking broadly), being infidel.
. . . Please God, I live, and there should ever be an opening,
I should like to try whether I could not frame propositions which
authorities at Rome should accept as Catholic as far as they go.
. . . My idea is to write them in Latin and cast them upon the
waters, to see what will become of them, or see what should
be done with them afterwards.
In a letter from Dr. Newman, of August 16, he men
tioned their common belief that a definition on any point
of doctrine by the whole Church ought to be received as
' a part of the Apostolic faith : only,' he added, ' you would
say that it included the Greek and Anglican com
munions.' Still, he felt it a point gained if Dr. Pusey could
say what he believed to be our duty ' if the Latin, Greek,
and Anglican communions, met together in solemn
council, did define ' certain points of difference. For, as
he wrote —
you would not indeed conciliate some people, but you would
hold the same principle as we do ; you would but differ about a
matter of fact, serious as that fact may be. No one could then
fairly accuse you of private judgment, for you would be [willing to]
submit your credenda to a power beyond you.
He reminds Dr. Pusey in the same letter, in reply to
his regret at zeal for individual conversions rather than for
organic reunion, that he must recollect that
we only feel and do what you feel and do towards Dissenters. . . .
You write to the Wesleyans and try to co-operate with them ; but

448 ADVICE AS TO RITUAL.
I am sure you would make a Wesleyan whom you met with a
good Anglican if you could. I am not aware that Manning and
Ward convert individuals, any more than I should, in order to
weaken the Anglican Church, but from love to the soul of the
individual converted, as you would feel love for the Wesleyan.
It will be very easy (Dr. Pusey replied, August 23) to mention
that which is a common principle of both, that the decision of
the Church is final and infallible, and that she is the judge of
evidence. We held it together in those old happy times, and (though
some of yours I think censured me) it is my habit, even amid
this controversy, to believe implicitly all which the Church believes,
though I do not know it, while of course I believe explicitly all
which I know that she believes.
I did not mean to blame individual proselytism, only to regret
that Manning and Ward speak of it as the only way. They, as
you know, not only think organic reunion hopeless, but Manning
even deprecates it, if it could be, as if we should only be a source
of weakness to the Church.
The judgment given in the case of Martin v. Mac-
konochie, December 23, 1868, forbidding kneeling after the
Consecration, and lights at the Holy Eucharist, caused
several leading clergy, amongst others, the late Canon
Ashwell, to seek Dr. Pusey's counsel. The late Rev.
James Skinner appears to have consulted him as to
placing lighted candles in such a position that they should
appear, from the body of the church, to be on the altar,
although not really upon it, for Dr. Pusey replied to
him : —
I am in the position of a veteran who has been put aside.
While the Ritualists were in their prosperity, many of them used
to say ' the old Tractarians were good enough for their day ; we
are in advance of them ; they belong to a past generation.' My

i860,] INTERCESSION OF ST. MARY. 449
advice was never asked ; had it been, and been followed, there
never would have been this difficulty. Now, too, I would help
them if I could ; but how know I that they wish to be helped ?
They may tell me, It is no concern of yours, you have nothing to
change ; you cannot enter into our feelings or advise for us. . . .
What I fear about the plan which you propose, of having
lighted candles near the altar, is that it will appear to people a
petty evasion of the law.
The value, too, of the lights was not that A. or B. used them,
but that the Church directed them to be used in a given meaning.
. . . Again, is it not doing what the Church has never directed
to be done ? * And would it not then be an institution of a sacred
symbol, at the will of an individual? And if you, or others,
might construct one ceremony, others might institute others.
In another letter to Mr. Skinner, undated, but which
must have been written about this time, he says : —
The feeling you speak of (of those who prefer the mention of
the prayers of the whole Church visible and invisible to the
specific mention of St. Mary) is one I had ; but facts seem to testify
that she has a power of intercession greater than other saints, and
then one seemed to be holding back what might be a privilege to
know, as well as a means of breaking down the wall between the
two Churches. For if there is any doctrine as to St. Mary which
should be acknowledged, then our not holding any, or the con
trary, must be an injury to ourselves, and a barrier to union, like
the extreme popular system among them. However, perhaps one
ought not to speculate upon this, but only think of the devotional
minds in our Church.
The letter to Dr. Newman, in reply to his strictures
(published in 1 866) on the ' Eirenicon,' at last appeared, in
Lent, 1869, and was the 'Second Eirenicon.'2
1 I.e. placing lights so as to appear to be on the altar.
" First Letter to the Very Rev. J. H. Newman, D.D., in Explanation
Chiefly in Regard to the Reverential Love Due to the Ever-Blessed Theotokos,
etc. Oxford, 1869.
2 G

450 'SECOND eirenicon:
It explained that he had written only of the teaching in
popular books, as going far beyond what Rome required
as de fide, and which would therefore need to be dealt
with authoritatively before reunion was possible. Yet
still Dr. Pusey hoped.
Shall not we, who hold together the same body of faith, who
believe the same mysteries of the All-Holy Trinity, of the Incar
nation of our Lord and God, of the operations of God the Holy
Ghost in man's regeneration and restoration, the same Word of
God, inspired by Him ; the same offices of the ministry instituted
by Him ; the same authority given to the Church to bear witness
to, uphold, maintain, transmit the same truth; the same Real
Presence of our Lord's Body and Blood; the same atoning
Sacrifice of the Cross ; the same pleading of that one meritorious
Sacrifice on earth, as He, our Great High Priest, evermore pleads
it in heaven — shall we not seek to be at one in the rest too ? x
He was much saddened by comments on this ' Second
Eirenicon.' If I were not already so pledged (he wrote to Newman, June
20, 1869) that it would be worse not, I should leave off writing or
doing anything except my Commentary. All seems so hopeless.
(Undated) 1869.
I suppose that it is hopeless to disabuse your people
about the Eirenicon. I suppose I ought never to have called it
so. But, morally, there is a great difference between writing an
Eirenicon with an arrtire pensie of keeping people in the English.
Church, and writing a defence of the English Church with an
afterthought of an Eirenicon. Lockhart, I think, is the only one
(besides you) who saw what I meant. Manning had written a
public letter to me, which was a root-and-branch attack on the
English Church ; the sharpest thing I have seen, setting us below
the dissenting order. I was urged to answer it, and began my
1 Eirenicon, ii. pp. 421, 422.

1869.] INTERVIEW WITH LORD SHAFTESBURY. 45 1
answer with no other idea than of writing the defence which I
had been urged to write, and get back to my Commentary. . . .
Whether Vol. III. — which is a real Eirenicon, at least whose*
simple and sole object is an Eirenicon, limping afterwards pede
claudo — will make things better, time will show. I have lost
heart about it.
Still Dr. Pusey never ceased to try and hearten up
others. He went to see Lord Shaftesbury just about this
time to urge upon him unity in contending for the faith
(June, 1869), 'using,' one who was present writes,1 'these
words, " Now, Shaftesbury, do not let us be like the Jews
at the siege of Jerusalem, fighting with each other, while
the enemy is at our gates." Lord Shaftesbury was quite
alive to the gravity of the position ; but, though he gave
no definite reason, did not seem inclined for joint action —
seemed quite despondent, and ended by saying, " I tell you
what it is, Pusey, you and I are about the same age, and
the sooner we shuffle off' this mortal coil the better." " But
we must fight to the last," was the brave reply.'
What a pity that people should waste time in judging one
another (he wrote to Dr. Newman from Chale, July 19, 1869)!
People compliment my abilities at the expense of my sincerity,
which is alone of value. I never had organizing talent, and am
very thankful for not having any talent which I have not. I never
was in any sense a party leader ; people used my name, but I
never had any influence with them, else in many ways things
would not be, or have been, as they are or were.
September 19, 1869.
What I have found from foreign ecclesiastics has been
a most profound ignorance of the Church of England, and very
> Rev. J. L. Flsh.

452 M. DE BUCK'S EFFORTS.
great interest, when they came to hear that such and such truths
which the continental Protestants repudiate are contained in our
' formularies, ... but I know what I should find at Rome, great
individual kindness, of which I am unworthy, and aggravated
belief of my personal influence ; great interest in the progress of
truth, and conviction of the duty of individual submission.
M. de Buck, a Jesuit priest, who had favourably
reviewed the ' First Eirenicon,' was, by Mgr. Dupanloup's
express desire, in frequent correspondence with Bishop
Forbes, urging him strongly to come to Rome for the
Council, with Dr. Pusey as his 'Theologian,' and writing
with most sanguine hopes of the result as bearing on
reunion. All that he wrote to the Bishop of Brechin was
submitted to Dr. Pusey. He could not share in M. de
Buck's hopes of success from measures proposed by him,
' kind, earnest, and truthful,' though he thought him to be.
But he perceived that, 'like most Roman Catholics, he
looks upon individuals only, and what may facilitate their
reunion with the Church.' Dr. Pusey was clear that,
without a formal invitation, no Anglican bishop ought to
attend the Council. He could not, he wrote to the
Rev. Dr. Littledale, from Chale, in July, 1869, see in de
Buck's letters 'any indication that they would acknow
ledge our Orders.' ' I expect nothing,' he added, * under
the present Pope,' and he entirely put away any suggestions,
even from Dr. Newman, that he should go to Rome during
the Council. 'I trust,' he wrote to him, September 17,
1869, 'that I shall be, please God, of more use in finishing
my " Eirenicon," Part III., which I am doing as much as
I can in the language of Bossuet.' It was completed in
November.

1869.] ' THIRD EIRENICON.' 453
I wish (he said, in the opening part) to be understood as
speaking in the name of no one but my single self. I have
consulted no one. The one whom I ever consulted, with whom
I was ever one, who was deeply interested in whatever might
promote healthful reunion, to whom, in his last days, the hope
was a subject of joy, can now only pray for it, but, perhaps, does
more for us there. I write, then, in the name of no party. But
I do write in the full confidence that I express the feelings of
thousands upon thousands of English hearts, both here and in the
United States, when I say that if, not individual but accredited,
Roman authority could say, 'Reunion would involve your pro
fessing your belief in this and that and that, but it would not
involve your receiving such and such opinions, or practices, or
devotions, or matters of discipline,' I believe that the middle
wall of partition, which has existed so long in, as we believe, the
one fold of Christendom, would be effectually shattered. . . . We
are children of common fathers, of those who, after having shone
with the light of God within them upon earth, and set on a
candlestick which shall never be hid — the clear light of inherited
faith — now shine like stars in the kingdom of their Father. Sons
of the same fathers, we must in time come to understand each
other's language.1
All through this year he spared neither time nor
labour in correspondence (besides writing and publishing
his ' Third Eirenicon ') which might in any way tell upon
the subject of reunion at the approaching Vatican Council,
although, to his mind, the chances of any favourable
results during his life had become of the faintest. But,
as his biographer has truly and beautifully said, the
history of these years of patient labour
exhibits a picture of no ordinary grandeur — a noble soul daring
to believe, amidst the din of jarring controversy, that God is able
to fulfil His own ideal, spreading the contagion of his faith to
1 Eirenicon, iii. pp. 39, 40.

454 VATICAN COUNCIL.
others, and toiling on through calumny and misrepresentation in
his efforts to bring low the mountains that bar the way of the
Lord.1 He expressed exactly the attitude of his own mind at
this time, and that of his chief friends, in a letter written
from Christ Church by Bishop Forbes, in reply to a
renewed invitation, in December, 1869, through de Buck,
from Cardinal Bilio to the Bishop and to Dr. Pusey, with
the promise that Cardinal de Lucca, the first President of
the Council, would arrange 'for their worthy reception
at Rome.' 2
Deploring, then, the existence of the schism, they yet accept
their isolated position : they have inherited, not made it, having
regard to the fact that they are where the providence of God has
placed them, and where their circumstances are such that they
would feel treasonable to God if they did not recognize that His
Spirit was working.
To Dr. Newman he wrote : —
I have satisfied myself of the practicability of an union on
the basis of the Council of Trent explained, and so my business
is more at home. I should have liked exceedingly to have seen
some of the German bishops ; but I have no less than five things
all but finished, and I can't finish one of them, so I hope to write
quietly this long vacation. Your most affectionate,
E. B. P.
The seventieth year of Dr. Pusey's life on earth saw
the Vatican Council assembled, of which the issue was
to blast his dearest hopes.
Life, iv. p. 194.
See Life, iv. p. 187. For a fuller account of negotiations with M. de
Buck see ibid, iv, ch. vi.

1870.] HARD LINES PREVAILING. 455
The hard line seems to prevail (he wrote to Newman, May
21). Manning seems to me to use his experiences in our con
troversies to direct the anathemas skilfully against us. I see that
there is an anathema proposed against those who do not hold
that St. Peter had jurisdiction over the other apostles. . . . What
a multiplication of minute anathemas. I can only turn away,
sick at heart, and say, ' Though they curse, yet bless thou.' . . .
I fear that these decisions will be a great strain on men's faith.
Antichrist must come, and everything which tries faith must
prepare for his coming. Then those who believe must be driven
together; whereas this Council seems to be framed to repel all
whom it does not scare.
Upon this recognition of the work of the Holy Ghost
in the English communion Dr. Pusey was chiefly wont to
dwell, as making it wrong, amidst difficulties which none
felt more strongly than himself, to depart from that com
munion. The writer can never forget a sudden and
wonderful irradiation of his countenance on hearing of a
more than ordinary circumstance, betokening the Divine
Presence in the Holy Eucharist. It was, for a moment, as
though clouds had parted, and rays of unearthly light
shone upon his face, and were reflected from it.
He sent his ' Third Eirenicon ' to Mgr. Dupanloup and
to Bishop Clifford (of Clifton) during the Council, but
neither copy was allowed to reach its destination.
During the Commemoration week of 1870, on June 23,
' the eve of good St. John,' Keble College was opened.
Dr. Pusey received, the day before, a token of affection
which deeply gratified him, and removed a heavy burden.
His lavish gifts to the Church and to the poor had left him
far from rich, and he had not time to look properly into
financial matters concerning his publications. Even in
1854 he had written to Mr. Keble that, as the Library of

456 OPENING OF KEBLE COLLEGE.
the Fathers was selling well, he had thought there might
be a balance against him of ^300 or ^400, ' which would
be soon paid off. Now,' he added, '  tells me that
there is a debt of about £1800 ; and if this is not liquidated,
still less can the original sum which I have borrowed ; so
that I have a debt of nearly ^3000.'
His embarrassments with publishers became known to
a few friends, and the result was that a letter was left at
his door on the eve of the opening of Keble College,
enclosing the bill to his publishers, receipted, together with
a considerable sum remaining from offerings of friends,
which he was asked to put into the offertory next morning
at Keble chapel. It was so managed that he had no
possible clue as to the sender of the letter, or those who
had willingly offered, and no means of communicating
with them, as it was to be a private offering. But it
chanced that one was with him at the time, who, hearing
his first words of gratitude, was able to tell those who
had been foremost in the matter of the pleasure and great
sense of relief which they had given him.
The temporary chapel was used for the first time for an
early Celebration, at which Dr. Pusey was present as one
of the congregation. His house was filled to overflowing
with children, grandchildren, and friends ; and, although
very tired and exhausted, he was full of joy and brightness.
In the afternoon there was an immense meeting, at which
Lord Salisbury was present as Chancellor of the University,
his train borne by two little pages, his sons. It was a
notable gathering of Mr. Keble's old and dearest friends —
Sir William Heathcote, Dr. Liddon, Mr. Copeland, Mr.
Wilson of Rownhams, being a few out of the long list of

1870.] VISIT TO BUXTON. 457
those, honoured and beloved, who have now passed to
higher service. The chief interest of the meeting was a
great speech by Dr. Pusey, during which he more than
once nearly broke down, and in which he made graceful
mention of what he joyfully hoped from the influence both
of the first Warden, the Rev. Edward Talbot,' and of his
then betrothed wife.
Dr. Pusey left Oxford for Buxton late on the day of
the opening of Keble College.
I arrived here in good time last night (he wrote next day to
his son), but more tired than I thought. I had slept so little for
some time. The air here is beautiful. I have been out for some
time in it to-day. ... I hope that yesterday was in many ways a
great day, and will leave its impress. It was good and courageous
in Lord Salisbury to take a part in it. June 26.
I think of staying here a Httle, as one can unite here
abundance of air with absence of fatigue more easily than at most
places. My eyes are better again, so that I have worked a little
at the Preface to Habakkuk. . . . Two long drives to the moors
in which Buxton lies embedded have done me a great deal of
good. June 27.
Eyes and all are better for the rest and air. I am
quite well.
God bless your going out and coming in.
Your very loving father,
E. B. P.
The Long Vacation was mostly spent at Ascot Her
mitage, working at the Commentary on the Minor Prophets.
1 Now Bishop of Rochester.

45§ PHILIP PUSEY'S WORK.
' It is very difficult to me to get on,' he writes to his son.
'At Oxford, I have no time. Away, it is impossible to
foresee what books I may want.'
His almost daily letters to Philip Pusey, as long as
the latter was at Christ Church, are filled with manifold
inquiries as to books, MSS., and quotations, as well as
directions about every conceivable matter. These notes,
from i860 to 1880, generally short, reveal the enormous
amount of help rendered to him by Philip, whose life was
spent in absolute and self-sacrificing devotion to his father.
' Will you get up for me, if you do not know it, the physical
condition of Egypt? It is for Joel iii. 19,' is one request
(with a long list of books to be consulted), amongst perhaps
fifty or more this summer, which must have involved no
little patient research. 'What place is Portiniacum? It
must be in the north of France, in Normandy,' is one of
the questions amongst the easiest sent. 'It was where
St. Thomas of Canterbury retired to.' The labour and
time which Philip Pusey saved his father is incalculable, if
it were only through "the least part of his work, that of
trying to keep some sort of order in the papers covering
every piece of furniture in the large study at Christ Church.
' Thanks for your tidying work ; it will save a good deal
of brain,' he wrote a few days after arriving at Buxton.
Yet all was done by his son in the midst of earnest work of
his own ; and this year he went abroad in July for about
six weeks to collate manuscripts in foreign libraries, with
a view to his edition of St. Cyril. ' Once more God prosper
your journey,' his father wrote (June 29, 1870). ' Your work
will be of use, as long as St. Cyril is read, and more when
you are removed than in your time.'

1870.J THE VATICAN DECREE. 459
No one else would have attempted in his condition the
long journeys alone which he made in order to collate
manuscripts. In Russia, in Greece, in various other parts
of Europe, he found his way to remote convents as well as
to famous libraries. Crippled, deaf, in constant suffering,
he never took a servant with him, or feared to encounter
alone all which was a real peril to one in his condition.
His father wrote to him, when he was setting out on one
of these expeditions (in August, 1878), 'Your angel will
accompany you, so I do not fear.'
Dr. Pusey spent his seventieth birthday, August 22, at
Ascot Hermitage. There, just before it, he heard of the
decree as to Papal Infallibility, pronounced on July 18,
1870, at the Vatican, which crushed any remaining hope
as to reunion in the near future.
I knew that your love would remember the 22nd (he wrote
to Dr. Newman, August 26), the entrance, probably, of my last
decennium. Before the Council, I wondered whether I might not
live to see the union of the Churches ; you will have seen and
mourned how that has already repelled minds. The last ' Eireni
con ' has sunk unnoticed to its grave ; the first, as you know, was
popular ; both against my expectations.
Just when this blow came from Rome, Dr. Phillimore's
judgment was given in the Court of Arches, July 23, 1870,
in the suit of the Church Association against the Rev.
W. J. E. Bennett's statements as to the doctrine of the
Holy Eucharist in a published letter to Dr. Pusey.1 The
judgment affirmed that they ' did not exceed the liberty
allowed by the formularies, and the language used by a
long roll of illustrious divines who have adorned the English
1 A Plea for Toleration in the Church of England.

460 APPOINTMENTS AT CHRIST CHURCH.
Universities ; ' and that to teach that our Lord's Presence
in the Sacrament was ' objective, real, actual, and spiritual '
was allowed by the English Church.1 The case was not
finally ended for nearly two years, when (June, 1872) the
Final Court of Appeal, to which it had been carried, con
firmed the decision of the Court of Arches.
The decision was of the greater moment to Dr. Pusey,
because, as he wrote to Mr. Gladstone in 1868, when the
suit began —
Except two careless expressions, which Bennett retracted at
my wish, he is indicted simply for approval of language of mine,
which he states to be mine in the places in which he expresses
that approval. If, then, the Judicial Committee of the Privy
Council should condemn Bennett, then I am already condemned,
for they are my ipsis sima verba for which he would be condemned.
And since the Supreme Court of Appeal never reverses its
decisions, I could obtain no subsequent hearing.
It was therefore especially trying that the acknow
ledgment of doctrine which he held dearest should be
imperilled through a letter to him containing statements
which he ' disowned, and induced Mr. Bennett to amend.' 2
He tried in vain to persuade the Church Association to
prosecute himself instead of Mr. Bennett, who added greatly
to his anxieties by refusing to defend himself, or allow
others to do so.
Four appointments in Oxford about this time were a
source of joy and of great help to Dr. Pusey, who could no
longer feel that he stood alone at Christ Church. Dr.
Bright's appointment (January, 1869) to be Regius Professor
of Ecclesiastical History made him a Canon of Christ
1 Life, iv. ch. viii. p. 218. * Ibid. p. 217.

1870.] SUMMER AT ASCOT. 461
Church; Dr. Liddon was elected (June 11, 1896) to the
Ireland Professorship of Exegesis in the University ; and,
in 1870, Mr. Gladstone chose for the Regius Professorship
of Divinity, Mr. J. B. Mozley (who, as a young man, had so
long lived with the Puseys), and for the Chair of Pastoral
Theology the Rev. Edward King, Principal for ten years
of Cuddesdon Theological College.1 That he and Dr.
Bright should be Canons of Christ Church was a chief
blessing and stay to Dr. Pusey during the remainder of his
earthly life.
His notes make frequent mention of the Franco-Prussian
war, and he was anxious about his son, lest he should be
detained in Paris. ' The war seems to me more horrible
than any war between so-called Christian nations I know
of,' he wrote in September, ' a war of assassination. Alas,
for our boasted civilization.' Yet, notwithstanding the
blow from the Vatican, and the beginning of the Atha
nasian Creed trouble, he made mention of this summer as
' very peaceful ' at Ascot. ' It has been beautiful weather
lately, and I enjoy it much.' He looked well, and bright,
and happy ; and he was cheered by hearing that the pro
vision for the Vicar of St. Saviour's, Leeds, would be raised
to £300 per annum, 'the Commissioners,' he said, 'con
struing as public patronage trustees who have no power
of selling, so there will be no further anxiety about its
ultimate endowment.' 1 Now Bishop of Lincoln,

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXIV.
DR. PUSEY'S SPEECH AT THE OPENING OF KEBLE COLLEGE.
The Rev. Dr. Pusey, being called on by the Chancellor, was
received with great cheering. He said : ' Once more we may
take in our mouths what has been our watchword for more than
thirty-five years, " This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in
our eyes." This is a characteristic of every work of the Church —
a characteristic of every work done for God, that little seems to
be done and great are the results. A few seeds are scattered and
rise up armed men — armed not with the weakness of this world,
but with the strength of God. Trample the seed underfoot, and
it takes root deeper ; let the frost and wind nip it, and it brings
forth more healthful fruit ; prune it, and it gains strength and vigour
from the steel. If we could look back less than five years, there
you might see one whose characteristic it was to hold that it was
impossible to think too lowly of himself, holding familiar con
versation with two others in the grounds of Hursley Park,1 and
discussing what had been a favourite plan of twenty years, but
which had been more than once frustrated, and had then been
revived by one whom to know was to love — Dr. Shirley. Could
any one then, with a prophet's eye, have seen what has passed
in those five years, we should have seen two mournful processions
— of one whom we lost in the prime of youth, of intellect, and of
vigour, who, while he was here, was the life and soul of the plan
which is now so far completed, and we should have also seen that
other, to most of us, most mournful procession of one who had
completed his threescore years and ten, and yet seemed to be
taken from us too early. If then we could have seen this building
' See p. 416.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXIV. 463
— through our poverty, perhaps, more characteristic of him whose
name it bears — capable of receiving a hundred real students, to
follow in his steps as he followed those of his Lord, and space for
one hundred and fifty more ; if we could have •seen then the
temporary chapel of this building, and its altar consecrated to
Eucharistic service by him who is the representative of the
Primate of All England ; and then this later procession, in which
our most noble Chancellor has vouchsafed to take part, hallowing
this building as psalms and prayers can haUow it to the service of
Almighty God — then, no doubt, we should have said, " This is the
Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes," to Whom be the
thanks and praise. I know that there are anxious hearts here
who ask this — "Is there indeed no cloud hanging over Keble
College ? Is it as bright as that sky above us ? Will not that
dark mass, which some of us think is brooding over the other
colleges of Oxford, reach Keble College and burst over it ? " It
was asked of late in the House of Commons, " What of Keble
College?" The answer was, "Its promoters have done what
they did with their eyes open." Quite true. It was offered to us
by a friendly member of the House of Commons whether he
should attempt to introduce any clause providing exemption for
Keble College as being a foundation now coming into existence.
The Council deliberately answered, " None ! " and the ground of
this reply was that our protection and our strength lie in our
charter, secured by the sign manual and word of the Sovereign,
and as long as that charter remains, Keble College needs no test :
and the ground of this is that the colleges around us change.
During a memory of fifty years, whilst residing in Oxford, I have
witnessed these changes two or three times. They arise in this
way : That the members of those colleges are elected at a very
early age — that we develop afterwards in our different directions,
and the characters of the college take the shape and character of
those developed members. The charter of Keble College has
been shaped like one which has received the support of the highest
dignitaries of Church and State — King's College in London ; and
by that it is provided that the successive Wardens shall be
appointed by the Council, and that the Council shall perpetuate

464 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXIV.
itself. In addition to that, the Council consists of men of mature
— even an advanced age, when people do not change. So long
as that Council is faithful to the principles upon which the college
is founded, we want nothing but what the plighted word of our
Sovereign gives us — the freedom of choice. We needed no test in
choosing this our first Warden, who has just addressed you. We
knew what he was. We knew him to be chivalrous, devoted,
enthusiastic, and gifted with high talents, and great power of
organization. We knew that he possessed that power so rare
amongst us Englishmen, of throwing our minds into the minds of
others, and guiding them out of themselves. We knew he was
devout to his Lord and loyal to the faith. What additional
advantage could subscription give us when we knew that the faith
was written in his heart ? So, then, as to those who nobly allowed
themselves to be associated in this work, we knew that men who
had received the highest stamp of University honours, and were
willing to give themselves heart and soul to this new, untried, and
as yet undistinguished college — we knew that they were equally
loyal with himself, and they needed no test. As long as the
University of Oxford and Keble College itself shall furnish such
members, we need nothing but what has been already plighted to
us — the freedom to choose them. You do not want tests to
ascertain the value and the beauty of pearls and emeralds and
carbuncles. Their purity and their fire and their lustre mark
what they are. With such jewels Keble College has been arrayed ;
with such jewels I hope she will be arrayed until the end. Since,
then, not walls but men are the strength of a college, as of a State,
we have, I think, every promise that this college shall soon take
its place among the very first of the University. What parents
desire is that their promising sons should come where their
intellects may be developed — where all their powers shall be
trained and brought out. When, then, we have such promise
of men who are not only thus distinguished with the highest
University honours, but have pledged themselves to give them
selves wholly to this work, I trust the country will send those here
who will be enabled to serve God hereafter in high and responsible
office ; for besides a simplicity of life here, there will be a religious

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXIV. 465
tone ; and I trust that the name which the college bears will be a
talisman to it, and that they themselves will walk in his steps
who, from his early youth unto hoar hairs, lived faithful to his
God. One more subject. I own it was my own idea that the
head of this college should Hve wholly among its members — in
truth, to speak plainly, in the .life of a celibate ; but when I knew
whom he had chosen — or who had chosen him — I felt there was
an additional ground of congratulation that one as chivalrous and
devoted as himself would use her influence also, and I felt it more
deeply because it can hardly be expressed in words — the influence
over young and enthusiastic minds of a Christian lady.'
In a letter to the Times Dr. Pusey wrote, ' During the heated
controversy after the publication of Tract 90 ... I was in the
quondam stable at Littlemore, which Newman had turned into a
recreation room. One came in and said, " A book has been
burnt as the fons et origo mali. What was it ? " Quick as light
ning Newman answered, " The ' Christian Year,' I suppose." He
was right. The "Christian Year" in 1827 (soft and low as its
cadence was) was the first note of that trumpet-blast which was
prolonged with no uncertain sound, and had, far and wide, won
people to the full faith before a Tract was written.'

2 If

CHAPTER XXV.
BATTLE FOR THE ATHANASIAN CREED.
1871— 1877.
He drew from men, by the silent force of his character, a kind of
sanction to their being rebuked by him. ... He was deaf to the call
of mere fashion or faction ; impervious to the attraction of a bought-
with-a-price popularity ; resolute in what he conceived to be his duty.
To know him was to be able to predict the path he would take.—
R. H. Hutton ; A Monograph.
Early in 1871 Mrs. Brine, who was with her father at
Christ Church, wrote : —
He is not able to work in the same consecutive way he used
to, but seems to get tired very soon ; and he appeared so glad of
all the little breaks of my being in the house. We used to start
off for a turn in the Ch. Ch. meadows, or a country walk at all
odd times, just when his head was tired, and he felt he could not
work any more.
Part of Lent, and the Easter Vacation of 1871, he
spent in London, where he had taken rooms. In the
summer he went, after a short stay at Ascot, to New Quay,
Cornwall, and wrote from thence to his son : —
I have been busy this morning about the ' crowns ' in Zecha
riah vi. 11. It is very peaceful work. ... It is a beautiful day,
and this evening I hope to be on the old headland again. ... I

1871.] DEATH OF DR. JELF. 467
am much distressed at Mansel's death. It is a very sad loss.
I never thought to have survived him.
Philip Pusey joined him at New Quay, and at Perran-
forth, near Truro, where he went early in August.
The last month of the Long Vacation he spent at
Penzance, 6, Alexander Place, ' a very healthy spot,'
whence he wrote (September 19) to Philip, who had re
turned to Oxford, in much care about Dr. Jelf, then
seriously ill. Before Dr. Pusey's return home, on October
13, his oldest friend had passed to his rest.
Kindest thanks for your loving letter (he wrote to Newman,
Penzance, September 22). It is indeed a great trial. Next
January would have completed sixty years since we went to Eton,
and were placed within two of each other. After a year we came
to be next to each other by his getting a place. It is happy now
to think that in those early years I never knew of a fault of his,
even the very slightest untruth, nor any deviation from duty. It
was always the same single life of duty. . . . God's warnings
were truer than our thoughts. He had some feeling a week
before that his illness was grave. So this too was the love of God.
I little thought to have survived him. When I last saw him,
his step was as quick and active as ever. I little thought that the
last grasp of the hand would be the last. God has indeed been
removing one by one the friends whom one never thought to
survive, as Mansel.
He himself was seriously ill very early in 1872, and his
daughter could not be with him, as she was watching by
the death-bed of her little boy Edward, whose face was
strikingly like his grandfather's. Writing of his illness
before she knew that it was for death, she says, 'The sorest
part of all to me has been my father's severe illness, and
the impossibility it has been to me to go to him.'
The end of a note from his son to Dr. Newman

468 SEVERE ILLNESS.
(March unreporting his father as 'almost convalescent,'
must be given.
. . . One of my little friends here can say the old words,
' Two brothers freely cast their lot With David's Royal Son,' and
he is learning now, ' Faint not and fret not for threatened woe,'
and soon I hope he will learn the last of those in the ' Dream of
Gerontius,' ' Praise to the Holiest in the height.' You know that
many of the smaller pieces in the ' Dream of Gerontius ' have been
a very great soothing kind of enjoyment to me, and that particular
one, ' O wisest Love that flesh and blood,' is one that I have
been thankful for its having so much of truth and dogma con
densed into so little space.
One of the sweetest consolations of that stricken life
was his love for children, and the love with which he
inspired them. ' I asked Palemo,' 1 his father says, in a
note to Philip, ' if she had any message to you, and she
said, "Yes; tell him that I love him.'"
Dr. Bright reported to Dr. Newman, on March 1 3 : —
What I am most anxious about is the degree of exhaustion
and weariness which this attack has left behind. ' If,' said his
son to me, ' he were to talk to you about the question of the
Athanasian Creed, it might cost him two sleepless nights.' He
therefore keeps himself as much as possible out of the reach of
letters, and, as I have said, nobody has for some time been
admitted to his room, save those who are in the house, and
Dr. Acland.
By the middle of May, however, he was himself again,
for Dr. Bright wrote to Dr. Newman, on Whitsunday,
May 19, that —
Dr. Pusey got through his sermon much better than I — or, I
1 A little Hawaiian girl, who was often with Dr. Pusey, and to whom he
was much attached. He used to lead her pony about in the Isle of Wight.
Pie tried in vain to teach her to read.

1 87 1.] RECOVERY. 469
believe, he — had expected. His voice did not seem at all
weakened by his late illness; and when I saw him afterwards,
he seemed vigorous and cheerful. Mrs. Brine is now with
him. The following note from Dr. Pusey himself concerning
Dr. Newman's sermons is marked by the latter, ' Spring,
1 87 1.' He appears to have sent his publisher's account
to Dr. Pusey.
. . . Certainly he ought to be satisfied ; for besides the profit
by the sale in the United States and the Colonies, I find that
while you have had about ^1000, the  have ^6500 to cover
their expenses and for their share. I am sure you have not
remarked their calculation that above 26,000 volumes of the
reprint of your sermon must have sold, besides those sold abroad.
A good amount of ' seed-corn ! ' May God bless the harvest. . . .
I have tried again to set Copeland writing the history of the
movement ; but this time I have begged him to try his hand on
any portion he likes, without looking at the whole. Which do
you think he could write best ? It would be such a pity that his
knowledge of the history should be lost.
Dr. Pusey has returned to Oxford for the rest of the term
(Dr. Liddon wrote to Newman about May). He is still unable
to use his finger, although he writes a very odd character with the
left hand. . . . He is quite in his usual spirits, but looks more
pulled down than after his illness in the winter. At present
Mrs. Brine and her children are with him, and so is his brother,
Mr. William Pusey. . . . For the present the controversy about
the Creed has ceased. But I fear that, after all that has passed,
a renewal of the struggle at no distant time is quite inevitable.
The strain of anxiety about the Athanasian Creed tried
Dr. Pusey's health severely during the whole of 1872, and
his son seems to have been away from home for some time
before the Long Vacation, but he had, happily, the help
and companionship of his devoted daughter. A letter

470 THE CHRIST CHURCH STUDY.
from her, written in May, or early in June, 1872, gives an
amusing peep into the study at Christ Church.
I cannot tell you what the work of the last few days has been.
I have been almost distracted by all the Chaldaic and Jewish
quotations in the notes to the sermons, and have had to exercise
all my wits to keep up to the mark in any way. Just as I was
congratulating myself that the sermon and all the Bodleian work
was over, to my consternation I am called upon to write out all
the Hebrew papers for the Hebrew Scholarships about to be
given. As I do not know a single Hebrew letter, I am reduced
to copy them as one would a drawing. The only advantage of it
is that there is a ludicrous side to it all, spite of the heart-beatings
the wretched hieroglyphics cost me, and dear papa and I have
many a good laugh over my extraordinary productions. We sat
up till nearly twelve o'clock last night ; I thinking it all a very
serious matter, and papa sitting and laughing at me. ... As for
the Engelberg, Dr. Acland thinks papa extremely clever to have
found out the very place which, for climate, air, and absence of
tourists, etc., would so exactly suit him. ... I have proposed
that we should transfer our chairs and table into the garden, and
work there to-day, so that at least the servants may be able with
truth to say that papa is out.
I hope my precious father (she writes a few days later, when
obliged to leave him) will be taken care of and nursed. He needs
all the thought and care possible, for he seems to me and to others
to be a good deal aged by these last illnesses.
The publication, in July, 1870, of the fourth report of
the Ritual Commission was the beginning of a battle
which lasted for nearly three years, and of which the
fortunes were turned by Dr. Pusey. The Commission had
proposed an explanatory note to the Athanasian Creed :
'That the condemnations, in this Confession of Faith are
to be no otherwise understood than as a solemn warning

1871.] STRUGGLE FOR THE CREED. 471
of the peril of those who wilfully reject the Catholic
Faith.' The discussion upon this note, which would have been
satisfactory to Dr. Pusey, gave occasion to Archbishop
Tait to bring forward and strongly press his own plan, that
the Creed should no longer be used in the offices of the
Church. Dr. Pusey thought it best that the consequences of such
an act should be known beforehand ; and after the long
discussions in Convocation upon the subject in 1871, he
wrote to Bishop Wilberforce, October 19, 1871 : —
I have fought the battle of the Faith for more than half my
life. I have tried to rally people to the Church when other hearts
failed. But if the Athanasian Creed is touched, I see nothing to
be done but to give up my canonry, and abandon my fight for
the Church of England. It would not be the same Church for
which I have fought hitherto. I should not doubt myself that
Liddon would do the same.
On October 25 he wrote to the Bishop that he had not
known when he last wrote to him 'that Dr. Liddon had
publicly stated that he should resign his office of teaching
if the Athanasian Creed were tampered with. It is not for
me,' he added, ' to estimate what effects our joint resigna
tion might produce. Liddon's influence here with the
young men is only equalled by that which Newman had
in his most influential days.'
For the time Archbishop Tait, at the Lambeth meet
ing of the bishops (December, 1871), gave way, probably
influenced also by an important note sent to the bishops;
at their request, by the six Divinity professors at Oxford,
Drs. Mozley, Pusey, Ogilvie, Heurtley, Bright, and Liddon.

472 LETTERS FROM DR. PUSEY,
The strife, however, was renewed by a letter in the
Times (December 23, 1871) from ' Anglicanus,' a nom de
plume which scarcely veiled the ablest and most vehement
opponent of the Creed. Dr. Liddon recognized that a
second combat had begun, and wrote to Archbishop Tait,
whose sympathies were all with ' Anglicanus,' that if the
Creed were disused or mutilated, he would give up any
office or ministry in the English Church. Dr. Pusey sent a
petition, from himself only, to Convocation (in April, 1872),
in which he condemned the arguments of 'Anglicanus,'
and stated : —
That a Church which should withdraw from the public worship,
or mutilate the Athanasian Creed, would, in the conviction of
many thousands of its members, no longer be the same Church as
that in which we were baptized, and which at our ordination we
vowed to serve.
To the Bishop of Winchester, writing (July 27, 1872)
of the renewed agitation for altering the Creed, he says : —
I have looked on only to the first steps, viz. that, as my
defence of the Church of England, that she is a teacher of truth
through her formularies, would be cut away, I must abandon my
defence of her, and with it my position in her. . . . Whither I
should turn, if she should abandon me, I know not. But to
remain in ' lay communion ' seems to me an absurdity. It would
not be my own Orders, but her character, as having abandoned
the trust committed to her, which would be brought into question.
The whole course of the struggle has been recorded in
three biographies: of Bishop Wilberforce, Archbishop
Tait, and Dr. Pusey. Throughout, amid the vacillations
even of his friends, the latter stood immovable at his

1872.] FOREIGN TOUR. 473
post, unchanging in his conviction that withdrawal from
the public Church offices, or alteration of the Creed would,
as he wrote to the Times (August 10, 1872), 'constitute a
new Church of England ; our vows and duty remain to
the old.'
He was ably seconded not only by Dr. Liddon, but by
Bishop Wilberforce ; and Archbishop Tait was forced for
a second time to give way. It would be out of place in
this memoir to follow the fluctuations of the struggle, which
was not finally ended until May 10, 1873, when it was
decided by Convocation to retain the Creed in use, and
unaltered. In June, 1872, Dr. Pusey went abroad, staying first at
Calais for sea air. He says in a letter written from thence
(July 8, 1872) to Bishop Wilberforce, 'I am come abroad,
for, if God wills, the recovery of health, but post equitum
sedet atra cura!
He had hurt the forefinger of his right hand, a serious
impediment to his great work of writing ; and, being
uneasy at increased pain, returned to England for a day
to see Sir James Paget, who made him stay for a night
at his house.
He said (Dr. Pusey wrote to Philip, July 29, on returning to
Calais) that I might write with my second finger ; that there was
nothing the matter with the brain ... so now I think no more
about my finger. . . . He was excessively kind. I spent the
evening in his family, read prayers, and breakfasted as if I had
been one of them. We are going on by short journeys to
Tournay, Brussels, Namur, Liege, Verviers, Aix-la-Chapelle,
where we hope to be next Saturday.
Dr. Pusey always spoke gratefully of that little visit to

474 LETTERS FROM ABROAD.
Sir James Paget and his family, and of music in the
evening which gave him pleasure.
He gave up attempting the Swiss highlands, as he
wrote to his son that Sir James Paget did not think ' so
much of air ' in his case, ' as of good food,' and that he
thought of going 'to Cologne, and then slowly up the
Rhine.' By August 15 he was at Lucerne, and rejoices
at having been joined by a friend.
Mr.  's Times has not yet come (he adds), so I do not know
whether my letter has gone in. It is a decisive [one], though I
have written in generals only.1 It is a pitched battle. I should
think the Archbishop would be sorry that he ever stirred the
question. The air here is beautiful, as well as the scenery.
A few extracts from letters to his son will give the
story of his little tour : — Worms, August 13.
We are arrived thus far, and, thank God, without mis
adventure. We had two pleasant days on the Rhine from Cologne
to Maintz, the fog prevented our going farther by water. To-day
we are to get to Strasburg, please God, to-morrow (all well)
to Basle, on Wednesday to Luzerne, where letters had better
come. My finger was going on so well, but has got inflamed again
by writing a letter to the Times on the Athanasian Creed on
Saturday. I suppose it cannot be in before Tuesday, August 13.
Undated.
I am still on the Lake of Lucerne in beautiful weather.
I walked up as much of the Righi as remains after the railway
up it ends, and was not tired. Another day I walked some six
1 The letter on the Athanasian Creed is dated Mayence, August 10. It
is given in the Life, iv. pp. 247-249.

1872.] LETTERS TO PHILIP PUSEY. 475
miles. So God continues my strength, thanks be to Him. . . .
We cannot get into the specially bracing places (they are so full),
so I am going to Reichenhall, near Salzburg. On the 28th I
hope to be at Munich, and to see Dollinger. Zurich, August 24.
Some extra fatigue on the journey caused us to halt
here for a day, so we shall be here for Sunday too. I do not
know whether the Times will insert a second letter. The first
seems to have startled people into thinking that we are in earnest,
which was what I wanted. Munich, September 2.
I arrived here to-day. ... As Dollinger is not here
I am going on to-morrow, and expect to be at Reichenhall on
Wednesday to stay. Reichenhall, September 8.
This place is as beautiful as they say, in the centre of
a lofty basin, enclosed by beautiful (not snow) mountains. The
heat is great, but the air very fresh. There is a large construction
in which water from salt springs is brought to the top of an
enormous pile of firs. This was found very good for bronchitis
and weakness of chest. So people come here. I enjoy the place
much; I have been sitting and inhaling from the firs. ... I
have declined going to the Cologne Congress of the Old
Catholics. ... It would give zest to the evangelical attack on
the Athanasian Creed if they thought it would be a blow to the
Tractarians. They have given me ' hatred for my goodwill.' . . .
The Record was very fierce. ... I do not think that the Arch
bishop will wish to push things to the utmost. September 13.
I have been here just a week ; a beautiful place it is, in
itself and in its environs. ... I think of beginning to lecture on
Saturday, October 19.

476 RETURN HOME.
September 21.
The weather up to to-day is summer here; but the
rains must bring autumn. . . . Things look very black. People
seem ready to sacrifice the Athanasian Creed, out of a sort of
despair that it must go ; and if the Church does this, I know not
how to retain my canonry. So this time next year, perhaps, we
may be homeless. However, I should hope that the Archbishop
may not press things to extremities. I have not a thought
beyond this of resigning my office. If the State only interfered,
and not the Church, it would not distress either me or Liddon.
Since writing the above, a warm summer has turned into
winter; the snow is on the mountains on both sides the house,
so on Monday we set off (weather permitting) for Italy. We
hope to reach Verona by September 28, Genoa by October 5.
I hope, as before, to reach Oxford early on St. Luke's.
Milan, October 8, Tuesday.
The journey here has been very slow. ... I shall, if
possible, leave for Vercelli on Saturday afternoon, and get to
Turin on Monday. ... I may get to Oxford on Thursday
evening. He probably arrived at Oxford on October 10 (or 11),
as he hoped, for a letter to Archbishop Tait is dated the
12th. To Dr. Newman he wrote, November 23, 1872 : —
I had just heard of your sister's1 bereavement when your
kind note came. How fast the leaves are dropping ! We seem
to stand on the shore, while most of our contemporaries have
passed the stream. I have written to your sister at Derby, but
only One can speak to the heart who made it.
The saddest thing about this conflict as to the Athanasian
Creed, is how people go wrong of whom one had always hoped
1 Mrs. John Mozley, tile Jemima Newman. 'You know that my sister
has lost her husband,' Dr. Newman wrote to Dr. Pusey, November 10, 1872.
' Since such separations must come, little ground for murmuring can be found
when a marriage has lasted for thirty-six years in great peace and love.'

1S73] SEVERE ILLNESS AT GENOA. 477
better things. . . . Meanwhile, while we can admit no implied
slur on the Creed, we are still trying to satisfy people by some
explanatory note. Will you look at the enclosed, which Liddon
and I have framed, and send it, or make another? For you were
always happy at such statements. November 28.
You will see, please God, on Wednesday, that we have
adopted one of your pencil alternatives. . . . The meeting yester
day, for which I went to London, looked hopefully. I have seen
so little of Church of late, and he is so modest and reserved that
I was happy to find him so defined and outspoken.
Dr. Pusey did not long remain at home, having deter
mined to spend the winter abroad. On November 30 he
preached his great University sermon, 'The, Responsibility
of the Intellect in Matters of Faith,' and about December
10, 1872, left England for Genoa. This expedition all
but cost his life ; he would probably have been far better
in his warm rooms at Christ Church. Genoa was a bad
choice as to climate, and his lodgings were in an exposed
situation on the walls of the city. Before long he was so
dangerously ill from bronchitis that, on January 21, Dr.
Acland was asked, by telegraph, to come at once, and it
was not until January 27, 1873, that he could telegraph
to a meeting ofthe Hebdomadal Council at Oxford, 'Dr.
Pusey is out of danger.' On that day he dictated, in a
whisper, to his son, who was with him, a letter to Dr.
Liddon, to be read at a great meeting in defence of the
Creed, held in St. James's Hall, on January 31, 1873.
Throughout the whole evening (Dr. Pusey's biographer writes)
the greatest enthusiasm had prevailed. But when Liddon rose to
speak, and again when he mentioned Pusey's name, a tumult of

478 RETURN TO ENGLAND.
applause followed which will never be forgotten by any who
witnessed it. The whole vast assemblage rose to their feet to do
them honour, and renewed their cheers again and again.1
His recovery was very slow ; but he was able to write
to Dr. Newman by April : —
Genoa, Easter Tuesday [April 16], 1873.
My dearest N., — All Easter blessings. I knew that your
love would follow me at all times and under all circumstances.
God reward you for it.
By God's blessing and mercy I am able to work again, so I
have completed (as far as I could here) the Commentary on
Haggai, and (Zechariah being completed, all but the introduction)
within eight verses of the close of Malachi. Now, being allowed
to be in England early in May, I am leaving Genoa, though I feel
doubtful whether my chest is strong enough to lecture yet. Still,
God allows me to go on with the Commentary without hindrance.
Thanks be to His mercy.
He could not be idle, but three years later he men
tioned the need of revising his Commentary on Malachi,
' which I wrote, with few books, while obliged to linger
on at Genoa.'
I was very glad to see your handwriting (Dr. Newman wrote
to Oxford, June 23), though I had half a hope you were still
abroad, for the month of May is not, except in the poets, a month
of Zephyrs. I hope you have not suffered from it. Yes, I have
had three heavy blows — Bellasis, H. Wilberforce, and Hope
Scott. When I got home from H. W.'s funeral, I found a tele
gram with the tidings of Hope Scott's death. But such losses —
and you have had the like in Ogilvie and Jelf — are the penalty of
living long. When I used to read in the Bible that Daniel died
in a good old age, I used to think so too, but now I say to myself
1 Life, iv. p. 255.

1873-1 BISHOP WILBERFORCE'S DEATH. 479
he was only seventy. ... I was very glad to find the question
of the Athanasian Creed so satisfactorily settled, at least for
the time. What an absurdity, or, in the vulgar tongue, an ass,
poor  has made of himself !
In April Dr. Pusey was able to move to Bordighera,
and, early in May, was at Oxford for a short stay before
going to Malvern for the Long Vacation of 1873. There he
heard, to his great sorrow, of Bishop Wilberforce's sudden
death, on July 19, little more than two months after the
happy ending (May 10) of the attack on the Creed, which
the Bishop had fought so hard and so successfully to
defeat. At Malvern he worked at his Commentary on the
Minor Prophets.
You will wonder (he writes to his son, July 29) about my
being taken up with the ' Fishgate ' in Zephaniah i., but I want
to publish in connection with it, the statement of the old wall, in
proof of the identity of the Holy Sepulchre. Dr. Johnstone
thinks me looking better for the Malvern air, which, he says,
being dry, suits me.
The removal of the three years' strain on head and heart
during his battle for the Creed probably contributed not a
little to his restoration to health, but the ill-advised (as it
seemed to Dr. Pusey) petition of 483 clergy to Convocation
(on May 9, 1873), that duly qualified clergy might be
licensed to hear confessions, was a worry during the
summer, as it caused one of the popular attacks upon con
fession, led by Archbishop Tait. Dr. Pusey wrote of it
(August 21) as 'a tremendous storm,' but added, 'Fortes,
pejoraque passi! It was the harder on him, because, as in

480 DECLARATION AS TO CONFESSION.
the case of the attack on the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist
through Mr. Bennett's prosecution, the storm arose through
statements and measures which he would never have
sanctioned had his advice been asked. He was in the
position of a general of an army, of which certain divisions
were constantly making movements on their own account,
for which he was held responsible. And yet, for the sake
of the battle and its issues, he could not cut himself off
from these divisions, or cease to try and retrieve disasters
caused to the main body. But, after all, the end of every
storm and struggle was to win more hearts to understand
and value the veteran leader, and to strengthen his position.
' We are to have a declaration about confession,' he wrote
to his son (July 31). 'I have asked Carter to prepare it';
and, on August 14, ' Carter and I have framed some pro
positions on confession, which we hope will be useful.
They are being printed.' He had been urged to make
some declaration to guard the liberty given to the clergy
by the Prayer-book, in view of the Bishops' Report, July
23, 1873, on the subject of Confession, and the result was a
document, of which every word seems to have been weighed,
and which did not appear until December 6, in the Times.
The twenty-nine names appended to it included all of
most weight amongst High Churchmen.1
Notwithstanding worries, Dr. Pusey was regaining
strength, but his chest was still very weak. Still he was
able to write to Dr. Newman from Sidmouth House,
1 This important declaration is given in full in the Life, iv. pp. 266-270.
Amongst those who signed it were Canon Ashwell, Rev. C. C. Bartholomew,
Rev. R. M. Benson, Dean Butler, Archdeacons Churton and Denison,
Dr. King, Rev. Hon. R. Liddell, Dr. Liddon, Canon MacCoIl, Rev. A. H-
Mackonochie, Rev. G. Cosby White.

1873-1 SUMMER AT MALVERN. 48 1
Malvern, on August 7, ' You will, in your love, be glad to
hear that I am well able to go on with my Commentary,
That on Habakkuk is in type.' To his son he wrote : —
I do not know how it will be about preaching. Acland thinks
I shall be able to preach in October term. August 14, 1873.
I strained my voice the other day by calling loud to a driver,
and am now reduced to silence, as at Genoa. . . . Dr. Johnstone
says that after that great illness of my chest, I must be as careful
about using it as about a broken bone. But he, too, thinks I
shall preach in time. . . .
I walked up Malvern hill, with frequent pauses for breath.
But I don't tell the people of it, because they would take it for
granted that all is right, and I have to keep from talking.
After his return to Christ Church, in the autumn of
1873, he wrote to Dr. Newman that he was restored to his
usual state of health, ' less elastic than I was, more liable
to cold, but, with care, in good strength to do, as I hope,
quiet work for Him.' And he added, 'Dear Woodgate is
less strong. . . . His daughter writes, "He says he is
dying slowly, and that he hopes that 'I' shall be with
him when he is dying," which of course I shall, if it is not
too sudden.'
Writing to his friend on Christmas Eve, 1873, of the
departure of many, Dr. Newman added :—
I have been led on to write a letter ill-suited to Christmas ;
but you won't mind what has been written from the ' fulness of
the heart.' Christmas makes one think of our better home.
West Malvern, Christmas, 1873.
My dearest N., — Kindest thanks for telling me of dear
Mrs. Wootton's peaceful departure. It has been a marvellous
2 I

482 ORATIONS OF ST. ATHANASIUS.
prolongation of a loving, useful life, which, about forty years ago,
seemed to hang upon a thread. It carries one back to the love
of near a half century. Truly love is undying.
From this time until Christmas, 1876, Dr. Pusey spent
all the vacations at Malvern, of which the air suited him.
He had rooms at 2, Portland Place,1 Great Malvern, in
1875, but soon after took Osborne House, in much higher
air, at West Malvern. It is on the left-hand side, soon
after the road turns the brow of North Malvern hill, and
that the scattered houses of West Malvern begin, with the
wide view of Herefordshire.
There is an interesting correspondence between Dr.
Pusey and Dr. Newman, in which the contention was as
to which should be the most generous, when the latter
wished to republish his translation of St. Athanasius'
Orations (originally published in the Library of the
Fathers) with fresh notes. He wrote to Dr. Pusey (April
13, 1874):—
I have one great difficulty, viz. how to be just to the Library
of the Fathers. Of course I could not do it without your leave ;
but, even if you give it, how can I publish a corrected edition
without depreciating the book as it stands in the series ? . . . The
translated text, I know, should be carefully looked through. The
longer I live the more difficult I find it to be accurate. In the
volumes lately published it is astonishing how many mistakes I
have found, though I have taken extraordinary pains with them.
Dr. Pusey replied (April [19?]) : —
It is the gem of the Library. If you reprinted it, I must, of
course, destroy the present edition, because I could not sell an
imperfect book of yours when there was one more perfect to be
> Now the Portland Place Hotel,

1874.I CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. NEWMAN. 483
had. If I reprinted it, you could sell simultaneously as many as
you liked (e.g. 1000) among your works.
In another note he said : —
I thought you had lost interest in the translation of St. Athana
sius ; and some one who ought to have known you, said that you
did not intend to write any more on any doctrinal subject. This
was many years ago. The Oratory, April 20, 1874.
It is not safe to go by those who ought to have
known me. As to St. Athanasius, and the controversies with
which his name is associated, they have been my first passion
and are now my last.
After mentioning his 'anticipation or resolution' of
not debarring himself from entering the field of ' philo
sophy, ecclesiastical history, controversy, criticism, or
literature,' Dr. Newman remarks that 'the history of
doctrine is not dogmatic teaching.'
Dr. Pusey then proposed, with his usual generosity, and
anxiety for perfection of editions of the Fathers —
to print 2000 copies, of which you should have 1000 to publish
in any way you pleased, while the other 1000 filled up their old
place in the Library of the Fathers. ... If ever you could do it,
I would have the remains of the present edition recalled, as soon
as the new could be substituted. I have so prized that work,
that I should be glad, please God, to see [it] as perfect as possible.
The Oratory, May 13, 1874.
My perplexity has been to devise a plan which shall
make the book both part of the Library of the Fathers series, and
also of the series of my own volumes with fairness to the former.

484 'PUBLIC WORSHIP ACT.'
Dr. Newman then proposes, finding that the type of
the Library was the same as his own series, to go shares
with Dr. Pusey in the expense of printing, using his types
before they were broken up, and paying (besides half of
the setting up and printing) the cost of re-arranging the
plates. He added, ' Thank you for your liberal offer, but
I could not think of it. But it is so much a thing of the
future, it is hardly worth talking about.'
The legislation to give facilities for ' putting down
ritual,' introduced into Parliament by Archbishop Tait,
and ending in the 'Public Worship Act,' was the more
vexatious to Dr. Pusey because of the division amongst
those who held the same truths, and his own regret, both
at some things done by young ' advanced ' men, and still
more at the tone of their utterances. His great desire was
that they and the older men should so draw together, as to
resolve on a common line of action, and his chief advisers
and helpers at this crisis were Dr. Bright and the Rev.
T. T. Carter, who were more in touch than Dr. Pusey
with the movement for increased ritual, although entirely
able to sympathize with his fears and misgivings. To the
latter he wrote : — Christ Church, Oxford, March 13, 1874.
My dearest Carter, — ... A leader in the Times two days
ago, which manifestly embodied the mind of certain bishops, or
the Archbishop, opens a formidable prospect of powers to be given
to bishops and archbishops to get rid of clergy in a very summary
way. . . .
Mr. Pixell of the S. S. C. writes to me, ' When the Bishop asks
(as he is fond of doing) what we will obey, I wish we knew what
to say. It seems practically there is nothing satisfactory to say tp
such a question.'

1874.1 LETTERS TO REV. T. T. CARTER. 485
To the Same. Malvern, April 10, 1874.
My dearest Friend, — ... A measure will be proposed,
which it will be difficult or impossible to resist. ... It is thus of
great moment that the High Church party should have something
to propose to the bishops. The Archbishop of Paris1 said to me,
as the characteristic of the English in contrast with the French,
that we kept our point steadily in view, advancing, now this way,
now that, or halting for a time, as we thought would best secure
our carrying our point at the end ; whereas a Frenchman rushed
at it, and if he failed, he failed, and, therefore (his conclusion was),
' an Englishman will beat a Frenchman any day.' The Ultra
montanes were too strong for him at the Vatican Council; the
Communists shot him ; but he was the most long-sighted person
whom I ever spoke with, and very earnest about bringing back
those whom the Church had lost. ... I have pressed (usque ad
nauseam upon some, I fear) St. Cyprian's rule of winning the people
first ; and yet his is our very ideal of an Episcopate.
... It was to me wonderfully instructive, how, keeping his
point steadily in view, he won the Roman clergy, the Bishop of
Rome, his own clergy, people, the confessors, and carried it at
last, amid the over-lax and over-strict. If the Ritualists had done
the same, we should not have been in our present difficulties.
Events have shown that there is no difficulty where priests and
people are united, as at All Saints'.
To the Same. Undated.
The matter of ritual becomes more pressing, and it is, /
know well, of the utmost importance that they who use ritual should
be of one mind, what to use, what to concede. The state of things
seems like what St. Paul condemns in the Corinthians, ' Every one
hath a psalm,' etc. Nothing is ' done in order.' . . . This state
of things cannot last. We cannot go on as they did in the days
of the Judges, ' Every one doing what is right in his own eyes.'
1 Monsignor Darboy.

486 LETTERS TO THE ' TIMES.'
This impending legislation is very serious. This I know. . . .
We ought to be able to answer that question which, I hear, Bishop
Selwyn so often asks, ' What will you obey?' ... We ought to
keep our aim steadily before us, devotion in the Holy Eucharist,
and the Eucharistic sacrifice. Surely, if we can secure what is
necessary to this we ought to be ready to part, for the time, with
what is outside of this. . . . The office of a bishop is not simply
to ordain priests, and continue the succession, and confirm
children. . . . The bishops seem to be treated as if they were
necessary machines for making priests, who, when they were made,
were to act for themselves ; absolute, in their churches, over their
people, but amenable to no authority.
Yet, however Dr. Pusey disapproved of certain practices
or sentiments, he buckled on his armour to fight for the
attacked clergy, and wrote a series of letters to the Times
against the proposed Bill. The late Dean of St. Paul's
(Dr. Church) in a letter (April 6, 1874) urging their republi
cation in a separate form, wrote : —
The occasion was a very important one ; and I cannot help
thinking that those letters have been of the very greatest impor
tance in making some of the best people pause in their impatient
and short-sighted schemes. I do not think that any other remon
strance would have had the same effect.
In one of these letters (March 28, 1874) Dr. Pusey
had said : —
I speak from personal knowledge when I say that the bishops
might have guided the movement of 1833, etc'> if they would.
There was nothing that we, who were young then, so much
wished. The battle-cry of the early Tracts was, ' Let us rally
round our Fathers the bishops.' I believe that now, too, things
would come right, if the bishops would be to us ' Fathers in God.'
The letters were re-published in pamphlet form after
the Public Worship Act had been brought before the

1874.] SPEECH AT ST. JAMES'S HALL. 487
House of Lords, with a preface, in which Dr. Pusey
urged that the real outcry was against doctrine, and would
not be stilled, even if ritual were ' put down.'
His next labour for peace was a great speech at the
anniversary meeting of the English Church Union (June
16, 1874) in St. James's Hall, where he quite carried away
his audience for the moment, although expressing his own
conviction that there was present ' danger lest the love of
the beautiful should interfere with the inward spiritual
life,' — a weak point ' which Almighty God means by this
check to correct.'
'The spirit of the meeting at St. James's Hall was
delightful,' he said soon after it ; but by the end of the
year his hopes were disappointed, and he wrote very sadly,
in the same strain as that of his letters to Mr. Carter in
the spring. He maintained that ' even granted that what
ever is not mentioned is not prohibited, or even that what
is not prohibited is allowed, this surely does not give
individual priests a right to revive mero motu whatever is
not expressly prohibited.1 But he was firm in contending
for the Eastward position and the Eucharistic vestments,
believing that yielding these points would be to substitute
'judge-made law' for that of the Prayer-book, and to
create a dangerous precedent.
An undated letter to the Rev. T. T. Carter must have
been written about this time, as he alludes to the St.
James's Hall meeting in June, 1874: —
My dearest Carter, — I have referred that declaration to
King and Bright. I have myself no heart about it. When I
1 See Letter to Hon. L. Wood, Life, iv. p. 279.

488 CHRISTMAS AT WEST MALVERN.
made that speech at St. James's Hall I hoped that the extreme
men would learn their lessons. It is very disappointing. We,
the old ones, I suppose, when we had a check in our youth, used
to think ' What mistake have I made ? ' ' What does God mean
to teach me by this ? ' The young ones throw the fault upon
everything and every one except themselves. The ritual which
they use is different; the circumstances of parishes different.
Yet everybody seems to think himself exactly right. A great
storm has been raised : . . . and it does not seem to them, or
any one of them, that they may have made a mistake, either in
what they have done, or the mode or time of doing it. . . . It is
not their faith, but their practices which rouse up the storm ;
their arbitrariness; their principle that the priest is to regulate
worship (according to his own judgment or misjudgment) without
reference to bishop or people; their enforcing confession; the
uncertainty that, on any of them being appointed, the worship
may not be changed without any one' being consulted ; ... the
fussiness, pettiness, self-consciousness.
I am again in this beautiful air (he writes to his son, July 23,
1874, from Osborne House, West Malvern). I have such a grand
room, about twenty-one of my feet long : half of it built like a
greenhouse upstairs, half like an ordinary room ; and a door to
the open air. It is delicious.1
All Christmas blessing (he wrote from the same place on
Christmas Eve, 1874). I do not feel the cold at all in this house,
but have not been out of it since I came ; the snow is so deep.
It is very beautiful, like a great fair mantle of God's love, pro
tecting, though austere, what Hes beneath from the yet more
biting cold.
God has sent us very mild weather (he writes a fortnight later),
it is very soft; so yesterday I went up most part of the hill.
Thanks be to Him for my continued strength.
1 Soon after Dr. Pusey gave up the house, at the end of 1876, it was taken
by the Rev. F. Eichbaum, as a Clergy House of Rest, and the chapel was
built close to the spot on which Dr. Pusey's room stood.

1875.I ATTACK ON THE CREED IN IRELAND. 489
In the spring of 1875 Dr. Pusey was again occupied
in resisting attacks upon the Athanasian Creed, though no
longer in England. The Act passed in July, 1869, for
the disestablishment of the Irish Church removed all
hindrances to an altered Prayer-book being imposed by
a large Puritan majority on the minority of Anglicans
in Ireland. During the seven years' battle (1870-1877)
to avert this calamity, Archbishop Trench took frequent
counsel with Dr. Pusey. In December, 1873, he had
written to the Archbishop : —
The line of not changing the Prayer-book avoids all con
troversy as to details. It is a simple argument : ' You never
professed discontent with the Prayer-book while we were estab
lished ; if the Conservatives had come in a few years sooner, you
would have acquiesced in it still. Do then, for the sake of peace,
for love of your brethren, and to avoid the confusion consequent,
and the disharmony with the Church of England, what you would
have done for an establishment.'
He also wrote, about this time : —
For myself, I have all my life through felt the Athanasian
Creed to be a great blessing to me, as containing a clear expres
sion of faith, and tacitly meeting objections. It has moulded my
thoughts in a way which nothing else could. ... I should expect
that people in the Church of England would drift off into Nes
torianism or Eutychianism if it ceased to be used. . . . The
Prayer-book binds us together; it, more than even the clergy, is
the teacher of our people. The Bible translation is, more than
anything besides, the centre of our people's religion. Both are
attacked. What is to be the end thereof?
The Archbishop's efforts to keep the Prayer-book un
altered availed but little, although backed by a noble band
of clergy, few, but faithful to the book to which at their

490 CORRESPONDENCE WITH ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.
Ordination they had given solemn consent. One of these,
Dr. Lee, the late Archdeacon of Dublin, appealed to Dr.
Pusey in the spring of 1875, when the Athanasian Creed
was attacked, and the Preface to the new Prayer-book was
under discussion.
I sent a copy of the Preface to Dr. Pusey yesterday (Arch
bishop Trench wrote to a friend, March 31, 1875), but addressed
it to Oxford. I hope to hear from him promptly in reply, as
words of his might put to shame some who, after being long with
us, threaten to be now found in the ranks of the adversary. I had
a long, most able, and most interesting letter from Liddon yester
day on the subject.
To Archdeacon Lee, Dr. Pusey wrote : —
The proceedings of the (so called) Irish Synod remind me
vividly of the Arian attempts to supplant the Nicene Creed by
creeds of their own, which should convey to the ear something
sounding like the truth, but in fact denying it.
Dr. Pusey's reply to the Archbishop was a letter, dated
April 2, which takes up more than eight pages of small
print in the crown octavo edition of the 'Letters and
Memorials' of Archbishop Trench,1 and in which he deals
at length with each clause of this unhappy document.
The letter ' seemed to the Archbishop one of so much im
portance, that he caused it to be immediately printed for
private distribution.'2 It probably did good service, as
some of the worst statements in the draft of the Preface
were modified, before signature to it became compulsory
on clergy, so as to make it, ' to use the words of one who
1 Vol. ii. pp. 183-191. 2 Letters and Memorials, ii. 175.

1875.] DR. PUSEY'S AND DR. LIDDON'S OFFER. 49I
in vain fought against it " less grossly intolerable than the
one at first proposed." ' x
The attack on the Creed did not slacken ; and on a
motion (May 13, 1875) that only a selected portion should
be recited on certain days, the Archbishop rose, and after
a speech of weighty and sorrowful import, addressed, he
said, not only to his opponents, but 'to those who were
holding on now to the Irish Church by the very slightest
hope that could be imagined, and who had taken counsel
with him in the matter,' he finally declared that ' he should
have no choice, but, if things remained as some intended
they should remain, himself to decline making use of a
Prayer-book which contained a mutilated Athanasian
Creed.'2 One who was present told the writer that when the
Archbishop sat down, 'a great silence fell upon the as
sembly.' Even his bitterest opponents felt the immense signifi
cance ofthe speech just uttered, and knew both that they
could not do without him, and that nothing but absolute
ruin could follow to the small body of Anglican Church
men in Ireland if they were broken in two.
A few days previously, Dr. Pusey and Dr. Liddon had
written letters to the Archdeacon of Dublin, offering large
subscriptions towards building a church in Dublin, if it
could be arranged that, as in many Scotch churches, only
the unaltered English Prayer-book should be used in it.
These letters were, by Dr. Pusey's desire, published in the
Irish papers; and, on Whitsun Eve, May 15, two days
1 Letters and Memorials, ii. p. 183.
2 Report in Daily Express of May 14, 1875.

492 ARCHBISHOP TRENCH'S VISIT.
after his important announcement, Archbishop Trench
came to Oxford, to take counsel with Dr. Pusey and
others as to the difficulties which beset him. He was the
guest of Canon (now Bishop) King, his daughter staying
in Dr. Pusey's ' lodgings,' as he was wont to call his rooms
in ' the House.' He celebrated early in the Cathedral on
Whitsunday, and afterwards was visited by the Archbishop,
after which they both went to Canon King's rooms, to
meet Dr. Liddon and Dr. Bright, and confer as to the
present crisis. Dr. Pusey seemed very happy when he
came back ; speaking with great pleasure of the line taken
by the Archbishop, and then breaking off, and saying
suddenly, 'And how beautiful his humility is!' He said
that it had been arranged that he should write a letter to
the late Right Hon. Sir Joseph Napier, a very Low Church
man, but a fair-minded lawyer, explaining his and Dr.
Liddon's views in their letters to Archdeacon Lee.1 There
is a note amongst Dr. Pusey's papers from Archbishop
Trench, dated May 26, 1875, in which he says : —
It is quite a mistake that I am distressed by anything which the
Irish papers have said about your letter and Dr. Liddon's. The
only serious pain which they can give me is pain for the writers.
Believe me, most faithfully yours,
R. C. Dublin.
As usual, Dr. Pusey threw himself with all his might
into any work which he took up. His letter to Sir J.
Napier was intended to be a full and elaborate justification
1 Our letters have met with very various receptions (Dr. Liddon wrote to
the Archbishop a week later), probably with more severe condemnation than
we know of. But that does not matter if they have the effect of making
English Churchmen recognize the extreme gravity of the Irish crisis. — Letters
and Memorials, ii. p. 197.

I87S-] MENTAL OVER-STRAIN. 493
of the line he had taken when his counsel was sought by
the Archbishop, and he provided himself with all the
newspaper reports cf the late debates in Ireland concern
ing the new Prayer-book, saying, ' They are history.' But,
at seventy-five, he was not able to bear the strain of dis
cussions and controversy as he could in earlier years. A
sheet of note-paper remains, with the beginning of his
letter to Sir J. Napier, which breaks off in the middle of a
sentence. It was never taken up ; early in July he dictated
a note from West Malvern : —
What knocked me up in 1875 was . . . that the dear Bishop
of Brechin urged me to write something to the Rt. Hon. J. Napier.
Being familiar of old with the subject, I over-rated my strength,
and began writing against time on the top of all my other duties.
I remember working till twelve one night ; and a day or two after
wards, finding my head too jaded to write a line, I knew that my
only way was to leave my work, and go to that fine air of West
Malvern, whose hill air had so often braced me before. So I
went. I took all the papers with me ; but, as often as I looked
at them in the summer, my brain refused to work, and so they
remained. The fine air enabled me to go on with other things,
but I opened that bundle of papers in vain.
I have been more pained this time at Oxford than ever in my
life before (his daughter wrote soon after term). He seemed
always jaded, always weary. He would keep up just whilst a
third person was in the room, and then lie down exhausted. He
is not able to bear nearly as much mental fatigue as he used ; and
his head must really have been very much overdone before he
could have determined, so unselfish as he is, to throw up all his
engagements. He was, happily, much restored before returning home
for Michaelmas Term, and able to bear, without serious

494 DEATH OF BISHOP FORBES.
break-down, the great blow and grief of Bishop Forbes'
death on October 8, 1875. The Bishop had been for
nearly thirty years one of the dearest and most intimate
friends of Dr. Pusey and of his children, and, as he wrote
to Dr. Newman, 'I never imagined myself surviving.'
They had taken counsel together on every subject ; Bishop
Forbes had been staying at Christ Church soon after
Archbishop Trench's visit, and had taken a warm interest
in the proposed letter to Sir J. Napier.
I broke down for a time in June (Dr. Pusey wrote to Newman,
October 11, 1875) in what always tried me — working against
time. . . . Acland told me that suspension of work of all sort
was the condition of future usefulness, my head was so exhausted.
So I wrote to no one, saw no one, heard from no one, and wrote
nothing, till the end of the vacation, when I resumed quiet work,
and yesterday I preached in the Cathedral without fatigue. How
death has been sweeping all around one ! What memories T. K'.s x
departure brings vividly back, and now Bishop Forbes, whom I
never imagined myself surviving !
It is a great gap to me ; he was so tender and loving. . . .
 tells me that you have been very kind about a plan of
T. K.'s2 to publish his uncle's, dear J. K.'s essays. I found
myself obliged early to leave off even reading the British Critic,
as it took time, so I am very ignorant about it, and do not know
what articles he wrote.
Dr. Pusey was, however, at his usual work in
November ; and seemed well, notwithstanding his keenly
felt loss.
In a letter of December 29, 1875, he says : —
I must write something on Jewish misinterpretation of Isaiah
Iiii. which I am having published ; else I might be a source of harm.
1 The Rev. Thomas Keble, brother of the Rev. John Keble.
5 Rev. Thomas Keble, junior.

1876.] DEDICATION OF KEBLE COLLEGE CHAPEL. 495
to souls. Then I have an University sermon on Sacerdotalism,
which must be carefully written. Then there is my pamphlet on
the ' And the Son,' which has to be re-written and enlarged. I
do not know which way to turn. . . . You need not be alarmed
by my letter in the Times. It is only to ward off mischief.1
It was a large programme of work for one in his
seventy-sixth year, especially considering his immense
private correspondence, and the amount of time given to
the care of what he called ' my large parish,' made up of
those who resorted to him from all parts of the kingdom,
high and low, clergy and lay, for counsel and instruction.
The spring of 1876 brought a great pressure of business.
' Now the Filioque has come, on the top of the rest,' he
wrote in March, ' and I dare not look at anything which
I am not at work upon. It raises such a tumult of thought.'
There had been two happy days in connection with
Keble College — the laying of the first stone, by the Arch
bishop of Canterbury, on the anniversary of Mr. Keble's
birthday, St. Mark's Day, 1868, and the opening of the
College on June 23, 1870, inaugurated by Lord Salisbury, as
Chancellor of the University. Now Dr. Pusey had the happi
ness of seeing the beautiful Chapel, Mr. Gibbs's splendid
gift/opened, on St. Mark's Day, 1876, and was the preacher
of the first delivered sermon within its walls, on ' Blessed
are the meek,' dwelling on the peculiar quality of meekness,
in some ways excelling even humility, ' the rarest of all
graces,' and ' eminently possessed by him in memory of the
gift of whom to us, the Chapel had been given to God.'
This place suits me as well as ever (he wrote, August 4, 1876,
to his son, from West Malvern). I have twice walked over the
1 See letter of December 27, 1875, Life, iv. p. 297.

496 LETTERS TO DR. NEWMAN.
hill to Malvern (not back again), and once to Newland, beyond
the Link station, without being tired. I find my breath walking
up the hills here better than walking in Oxford.
The question of the reprint of Dr. Newman's Notes on
St. Athanasius having again arisen, Dr. Pusey wrote to
him, November 6, 1876: —
I am shocked that you should have to ask me about the use
of your own notes. I have had more than abundant use of them
these many years. ... If you could have revised your trans
lation and notes (not that I know that there is anything to revise),
it would have been pleasant to have printed them in common;
but your authorities might not have liked it, and since, as you
lovingly remember always, I have passed my seventy-sixth mile
stone, 'Vitae summa brevis,' etc., so you had better do as you
propose. December 19, 1876.
... Of course I do not look on ; but if God gives me
anything more to do, I think it would be on the Psalms, upon
which I have been lecturing these many years, and upon which
I have notes, and on which I should not have occasion for
Excursus on all those bye-questions which at this day meet one,
especially in the early chapters of Isaiah. So I think a Com
mentary on the Psalms (if it should so please God), i.e. on some
of them, would be better suited to the evening of my days. . . .
What a blessing prayers for the departed are ! It is such
waste of time to think of any lost to one's self, when one may use
the time in praying for them.
He remained at Osborne House longer than usual,
but gave it up in December, when he returned to Christ
Church. Dr. Pusey had, when abroad in 1872, refused a pressing
invitation to the conference of ' Old Catholics ' at Bonn,

1876.] TREATISE ON THE 'FILIOQUE.' 497
not understanding, as he said, their position, and thinking
it ' best not to advance towards the Old Catholics, if after
wards one has to withdraw.'
Now he was much concerned at their tendency to give
up the Filioque in the Nicene Creed, as a step towards
union with the Greek Church ; and he published, in July,
1876, a book of about 200 pages, entitled ' On the clause
" And the Son," in regard to the Eastern Church and the
Bonn Conference.' 1
Of a volume of Mr. Keble's Essays, reprinted chiefly
from the British Critic, and to which Dr. Pusey had been
asked to write a Preface, he said that it
— stamps on my mind the great Divine law of waste, that what
we do is of little moment, only what, by God's grace any become.
It is a duteous but sad office to ' gather up the fragments that
remain ' ; but I feel that he would rather that I should do what
I still can, lest my Commentary should be one of those broken
pieces. When you have this, I shall have completed my seventy-
sixth year.'
The Jewish interpretations of Isaiah Iiii., alluded to in
the above letter of December 29,2 was a complete catena
of all Jewish commentaries on that chapter, translated
and edited by Mr. Driver3 and Dr. Neubauer, with a
long introduction by Dr. Pusey. He judged it well to
put forth all that for centuries had been written by the
most eminent Jewish commentators, in order to show their
failure ' to discover any person, or body of people, who
could be said to be the object of this great prophecy,
1 ' This valuable treatise is the fullest discussion of this clause, historically
and doctrinally, in the theology of our Church.'— Life, iv. p. 301.
• See p. 494.
3 Dr. Driver succeeded Dr. Pusey as Regius Professor of Hebrew.
2 K

498 RITUALISM.
which has for ages formed one of the principal battle
fields between Christians and their Jewish opponents.'
He was also much occupied by the troubles of prosecu
tions under the Public Worship Act, especially the judgment
in the Ridsdale case in May, 1877, forbidding the vest
ments, though allowing the eastward position, and wrote
to Hon. C. L. Wood, ' I think that the straightforwardness
of the English people would go along with this. "You
don't mean that when the English Prayer-book says,
Such ornaments are to be used, it meant, they are not
to be used ? " ' 'I could no more sign it than Skinner
could,' he said of a paper sent to leading High Churchmen
by Mr. Beresford Hope, in the summer of 1877, with a
view to their agreeing to give up certain points of ritual,
amongst others the vestments.
The hope of the reunion of Christendom, and especially
of England and Rome, had been, Dr. Pusey wrote, 'a
dream and interest of my life ' ; but the hope of himself
seeing the crown of his prayers and labours for reunion,
which had been so bright in 1865- 1866, wholly faded
away after the Vatican Council. He felt also, though in
this he was probably mistaken, that he could no longer be
of use to the ' advanced ' school of High Churchmen. His
attitude towards ritual was not caused by any shrinking
from it in itself. ' I like people to have what they like,'
he said, with regard to ritual ; and to Mr. Mackonochie he
wrote : —
Your strength is and will be in the hearts of your people.
These you have won wonderfully. Courts cannot really move
you while you have them. ... If the younger clergy will but
win their people first, as you have.

1877.] ASCOT PRIORY. 499
It was the tone of some amongst the younger clergy
which grieved him, and which caused him to write to
Mr. Carter during the outcry against confession caused
by the petition of the 483 clergy.1
Anything which I could do for them is over. They will not
even follow your guidance. I do not mean to attempt anything
more.2 ... It must require great grace, after having boasted of
themselves of being ' advanced' to own they have been mistaken.
And whatever other graces they may have, I see no tokens of
that of humility.
He speaks in the same letter of being 'disappointed'
at their ' self-sufficiency ' ; a great contrast to the temper
of the early Tractarians ; and he turned, for the chief
interest of his latter days, to the work which he had been
the first to revive. in the English Church — that of Sister
hoods, especially as regarded their care of orphan girls.
He went to his little house, the Hermitage, in the
grounds of Ascot Priory, for the Easter vacation. There
he found, in charge of the Convalescent Hospital, one
of the Sisters who joined his little community at Park
Village, the Hon. Georgina Napier,3 with another who had
joined it in 1847, and was now the oldest ' Sister,' though
not in age, in the English Church, with others who had
gathered round them. It was a great happiness to them
to receive and to minister to him ; and he gave himself,
with his usual sanguine interest, to the task of fostering
1 See p. 479.
1 ' I have formerly had days and weeks wasted,' he says in a note of 1875,
' by people who came really to say, " I went, as you wished, to  , and he
did not satisfy me." If I can be of any use to any soul, I am thankful.'
3 Even as these pages are passing through the press, she has gained her
rest — on Easter Monday, April 16.

500 LIFE AT ASCOT HERMITAGE.
their community, which was then in difficulties, and helping
their work who had been faithful to it since, now so long
ago, they came to his help in his first essay to found a
religious community.
In a note of May 13, 1877, he says of Ascot Priory :—
The pines make it a wonderful air, and the ground is very
dry ... It is but half finished ; in fact, there is only one
beautiful ward, an unfinished chapel, rooms for the sisters ; but
splendid capacities ... the whole land is between thirty and
forty acres.1
I went to stay with him at Ascot in July, 1877 (a friend
writes). He used to sit on the heath for a long time most days,
never tired of talking of his hopes and plans for the Priory. He
seemed very happy that summer, you know how sanguine he
was. . . . He was scarcely indoors from morning till night, writing
out of doors ; and was very full of a Commentary on the Psalms
which he had begun ; he said one day, with a bright smile, ' I am
writing it for my orphans here.' He seemed to look forward to
completing it, and giving the profits of it to the Orphanage. I
remember his telling me one day that he was at Psalm iv., and
that the right translation of ' Stand in awe, and sin not,' was ' Be
ye angry, and sin not,' and that he thought St. Paul was probably
quoting it in his admonition. He was pleased at many taking
an interest in the place, and looked forward to a grand future for
it, though he might well have been cast down by the difficulties
under which the community laboured at that time ; I used to be
troubled at seeing him going over great sheets of accounts, house
hold expenses, etc., brought to him by his desire, and to which he
gave himself with the same patient industry as to everything else,
great or small. His gifts to the support of the hospital were
very large ; in a note the next year he told me that his income
would greatly diminish after a certain date ; so that, he added, ' I
cannot pay for patients to any amount at Ascot as I did last
1 It had been purchased in i860, partly at Dr. Pusey's expense.

1877-1 A SISTER'S RECOLLECTION. 501
year.' . . . Dr. Pusey spent a good deal in planting trees on each
side of the drive from the road to the Priory door, because, he said,
he thought they would make the place more attractive to novices ;
else he had the greatest dislike to anything being touched which
possessed for him associations with the past. One day I asked
him if some deodaras, in a clump near the Priory, were not crowd
ing each other ; and he said ' No,' that he had planted them so
on purpose, one in the middle, and three or four round it, because
it had been so done at Pusey, and the whole had grown into what
looked Hke one huge tree. 'You have learnt,' he wrote to me
later, ' how unwilling one is to have anything changed. My old
home was, it was thought, much improved. To me it was so
pleasant to look out by moonlight, when all the improvements
were concealed, and there was only the unchanged outlines of
one's boyhood's days,' He said once that he used to get up at
night to look at them.
One of the Sisters writes that her recollections of him
at Ascot,
— are all of his sweet saintliness, and always acts of love and
thoughtful kindness. In great sorrow and disappointments he
used to say, ' Ah, well, I will go back to my Psalms ; there is
no disappointment in them,' and all said in such a tender
voice. Did I ever tell you of our pony's unconscious mischief?
Dear Dr. Pusey had with great pains written a long important
letter to the Bishop of Brechin, and laid it on the window-sill
in the porch, for post. Mone, the pony, came, knocked it down,
and bit it into pieces. Dr. Pusey looked very sad, but said,
so sweetly, ' Oh, Mone, you don't know what you have done !
That letter took me an hour to write. I can't write it again.'
When he was seventy, I saw him myself lighting a fire, kneeling
and arranging the sticks, that a little sick child should not suffer
cold, and the Sister who waited on him not be kept from a
Celebration. All was done with such wonderful sweetness. He
used to carry away his little tea-tray or fetch it to save giving
trouble. One day a patient begged that he might bless her little

502 CHRISTMAS OFFERINGS.
boy, and, when he was asked, he sent for the child, who was three
years old, and, holding out his arms to him, said, ' My dear little
child, you are very young, and cannot remember things well ; but
this you can remember, " Jesus loves me, and I must love Jesus." '
This he repeated two or three times, and then blessed him. The
thing that seemed to rise naturally to his lips was ' God bless you,'
whenever he met any one at the Priory, even the children and
patients. Dr. Pusey had arranged with the late Rev. James
Skinner, whose health obliged him to give up his parish and
Wardenship of Newland almshouses, that he should live
at the Hermitage at Ascot, as chaplain to the Priory. But
it was necessary to add to it for this purpose, and Dr.
Pusey was overburdened at this time with anxieties as to
the possible maintenance of the Sisters' works. ' I do not
know above two well-to-do people who would do a thing
because I wished it,' he wrote, in June, 1877, when most
out of heart as to obtaining funds to maintain the Sister
hood. He was mistaken ; his anxieties became known to
his friends, and the result was a gift of £1800 sent to him
for Ascot Priory at Christmas, with a very long list of
names of those who willingly offered, besides a shorter
list of his friends, and Mr. Skinner's, who undertook the
building of a large addition to the Hermitage, to fit it for
a chaplain's house.
It is indeed a magnificent Christmas present (he wrote on
St. Stephen's Day, 1877). It was very pleasant to see the names
of the donors to the Chaplain's Fund, alike some old familiar
names for their love for me, and those I knew not for their love
for Mr. Skinner, and their interest in the work. ... I see that
there are sixty-three benefactors or benefactresses.1 I cannot
1 I.e. to the Hermitage building.

1877.] CHRISTMAS OFFERINGS. 503
thank them, I can only spread the list before God at H. C, and
pray Him to bless them. ... I do not doubt that dear Mr.
Skinner, if God continues him to us, will be of the greatest use.
I hope that C. Wood will be able to obtain for us subscribers,
who will enable us to continue the charity to the crowded East
End poor, who have no other friends, yet need change of air more
than we in our ailments, because the air they habitually live in
is bad.

CHAPTER XXVI.
EVENING SHADOWS.
1878-1881.
What has been called his prolixity . . . followed a deliberate
primary desire to make his own point plain, and also to anticipate
and pre-judge objections that might rise in other minds. But there
was a finer and more sensitive feeling still at the root of the matter.
There was present a deep-seated wish to persuade, not by the kind of
reckless daring that carries conviction by storm into the minds of
some, but by a tacit acknowledgment of the increasing difficulties
that attend the settlement of many modern questions.— R. H. Hutton ;
A Monograph.
Towards the end of March, 1878, Dr. Pusey had a very
serious illness from the old cause — exhaustion of an over
wrought brain — and, by his wish, his daughter was sent for
I really hope to-day, for the first time (she wrote, April 15),
my dear father is slightly better. It has been a sad and most
trying illness. I was sent for last Tuesday week, and have not
been in bed since. On Wednesday he was taken most seriously
ill ; in the middle of the night he was seized with a paroxysm of
coughing, succeeded by death-like faintness ; I thought he was
gone. Dr. Acland, who came at once, thought he was sinking,
and stayed two hours with him, returning early in the morning.
The nights have been most distressing. He has been moved to
a bed in his study. Fortunately he has been perfectly content
to lie and rest ; being really too ill to worry himself about things ;
he never even asks for his letters. He has now been in bed a
fortnight; to-day is the first day on which I have hope of

1878.] RECOVERY FROM ILLNESS. 505
recovery. The fainting attacks have alarmed me much ; I have
not dared to leave him for a moment; but Dr. Acland assures
me they are not heart but brain exhaustion.
A week later she writes that he is going on well and
'is very cheerful,' and that the one thing necessary is 'to
prevent his thinking of his work ; he has never yet asked
for one of his letters.'
On April 27, Mrs. Brine reports, ' He sits up now for
several hours in the day in an invalid chair, but is not able
to occupy himself in any way ;' yet most of her letter on this
day is taken up with a long message as to another's health,
and an exhortation to relaxation of work. ' He does
not attempt,' she adds, ' to take up a book, and has not
touched any of the arrears of letters that have accumulated
during his illness.'
There is a touching account, in Dr. Pusey's ' Life,' of
the efforts made by his friends, on his recovery, to induce
him to allow a good portrait of him to be painted, and of
his gentle and loving, but firm refusal.
Of all which I hate (he had written to his son in September,
1877), I think that I most hate making anything of myself.
They had much better put up Pocock's arms, who was the greatest
Hebrew Professor whom we ever had. I have done what I could ;
but if people remember me, they will remember me as a theologian,
not as a Hebraist. ... I know, naturally, nothing about heraldry,
and have not an idea what my arms are. Put them upon
Pocock's arms.1
He could not, however, refuse to receive the Dean of
Christ Church (Dr. Liddell) and Dr. Acland, who had
undertaken to present him with ' a paper signed by all the
1 The note was apparently written in answer to some question forwarded
to him as to his armorial bearings, with a view to putting them up somewhere.

506 SUMMER AT THE HERMITAGE.
resident members of the Governing Body of Christ Church,
requesting that he would allow his portrait to be painted
and placed in the Hall.'1 But nothing they could say
moved his resolve. ' He shook his head,' the Dean wrote,
' smiled gently, and said, " It is a matter of religion with
me." ' He wrote next day to Dr. Liddell, that it would
be enough to say to the members of the Governing Body
and others 'that an old man verging on seventy-eight
does not get over a rooted repugnance of thirty-nine years.'
Yet the love implied in this earnest request was a pleasure
to him whose heart always sprang to meet love.
In July he was well enough to move to the Hermitage
at Ascot, and to resume his old habits there ; this time
under the same roof with Mr. Skinner, and seeing with
pleasure many of the friends who came to see the latter,
but who would otherwise have scrupled to invade Dr.
Pusey's retirement.
I met him again at Ascot (a friend writes), but he was a good
deal changed by his illness that spring. The year before he
walked down to the Priory Chapel every Tuesday morning to
celebrate ; but this year he only celebrated for himself at the little
altar in his sitting-room. Sometimes I went there; but gave it
up later, because his times of waking were so uncertain. And
then he was in anxiety about the housing of the orphans, an
intended gift of ^3000 to build an orphanage having been
devoted by the donor to another purpose. He wrote of it with
his usual sweetness and thought for others, though he told me
afterwards it had been a great disappointment to him. ' I told
 ,' he said, ' that the prospect of his gift, as providing a shelter
for the orphans, had been a great relief to me when I saw no
other; that God had provided a home for nine of them, would
give more, if He saw good ; and that his proposed gift would go
to its natural destination' ... so this has ended without his
1 See Life, iv. p. 36.

1878.] DEATH OF KATHARINE BRINE. 507
thinking that I am disappointed at the withdrawal. ... I was
glad of the prospect of an adequate orphanage once. It was a
great relief. God tided me over that time of anxiety by the
expectation of what was not to be. God has given what is best
for us, little things ;
Ready to give thanks, and live
On the least that Heaven may give.
It is so easy to admire the beauty and thought of these lines,
and hard to practise them in each little detail.
A few months later he wrote of this and other dis
appointments, ' Le rien n'ambitionne rien,' and of their
having impressed on him —
what one can never learn enough, and never half learns- —
'Je ne suis rien,
Je ne puis rien,
Le rien ne peut rien,
Except^ Dieu toujours et en toutes choses.'
I am going on very well (he reported to his son, September 7,
1878). My letter to the Archbishop about confession (two
sheets) is about printed now. Bishop Alford's declaration that
'the hundred bishops had declared Sacramental confession con
trary to the teaching of the Church of England (I forget the exact
words), and prohibited,' gave me the opportunity of making his
mis-statement the text of my letter, instead of being a direct
criticism of the resolution itself. The resolution was a clumsy,
mismanaged business, urged on by Archbishop Tait, and amended
by others, so that at last it is self-contradictory and unmeaning.
I found him much overcome one day (a friend wrote)
by the tidings of the death of his young grand-daughter,
Katharine Brine, who passed away on September 1. Dr.
Newman wrote, October 7, 1878, on hearing of his loss : —
There is nothing so cruel to the natural man as the sudden
death of a young girl. This even to bystanders ; but, alas ! what

508 CORRESPONDENCE WITH ARCHBISHOP TAIT.
extreme keenness is added to the trial as it falls upon a long
affection. Yet a mother's trial is greater than yours. My mother,
as you may recollect, underwent it fifty years ago ; for myself, I
do not exaggerate when I say that I have not even now got over
my sister's death.1
He was also occupied by a correspondence with. Arch
bishop Tait on the vague and awkward resolution
prepared by the latter as to confession, and accepted,
with some alteration, by the Lambeth Conference of 1878.
He pointed out with force that the American and Irish
bishops could scarcely carry much weight in the attempt
to introduce a 'not' into the English Church's rule for
confession (as the Ridsdale judgment had done into the
Ornaments Rubric), since in the American Prayer-book all
mention of the subject had been swept away ; and in the
new Irish Prayer-book, the form for Absolution in the
Visitation of the Sick had been removed, and the rubric
preceding it fatally altered. ' I have good hopes,' he said,
speaking of his efforts at this time, ' that I hindered some
tender souls from leaving our communion, out of which
Archbishop Tait would have driven them.'
His increasing deafness was a hindrance to him in any
work, save that of the pen ; he gave up his seat in the
Hebdomadal Council, being quite unable to hear what
passed in debate,2 but it left him the more leisure for study,
1 There is a very beautiful and pathetic account of this young sister's death
in Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman, i. pp. 177, 178. It gives a
vivid picture of the strong tenderness of nature in one who, absolutely sincere
and self-restrained, could, fifty years later, write the above words.
2 In Dr. Pusey's Life it is stated that he attended a meeting of the Hebdo
madal Council for the last time on December 10, 1877, an(i in the autumn of
1879 he gave up his seat on the Keble College Council, his place being taken,
to his great satisfaction, by the Hon. C. L. Wood.

1878.] SERMON ON SCIENCE AND FAITH. 509
and his great sermon, ' Unscience, not Science, an Enemy
to Faith' (besides another on Prophecy), were written
during this Long Vacation at Ascot, when he seemed to
have recovered, in a way marvellous at his years, from his
all but mortal illness in the spring, and to be well and even
Vigorous. He quite hoped to be able to preach at least
the first sermon himself, but, on his return to Oxford, the
end of October, Dr. Acland forbade his attempting to
deliver the whole of it.1
Never again was that venerable form to be seen in the
pulpit from which, to the shame of the University, he had
been once unjustly banished; the words on which thousands
had hung for now so many years — so that when he preached,
every spot of standing room in the Cathedral, or at St.
Mary's, was occupied — were no more to be heard from his
lips. The first sermon was delivered by Dr. Liddon on
November 3, 1878, to the crowds who had come together
to hear once more the words of the aged saint ; and the
second, on the following Sunday, by the Rev. F. Paget.2
There are letters, which he kept, from men eminent in
science, to Dr. Pusey, thanking him for copies of this
sermon, sent to them on its publication, and which justify
the opinion expressed by his biographers, that it equalled,
' at least in range, intellectual force, and moral power, any
sermon that he had ever prepared ; ' and ' that it is no
exaggeration to say that it is a permanent and most
1 He wrote of it to Dr. Liddon as ' a dissertation, rather than a sermon.
But breaking off deliberately in the midst is like making a scene, or making
too much of myself ... or clinging to preaching when beyond my strength.
Apart, however, from any reasons, I should be much more comfortable if you
would deliver the whole.'— See Life, iv. p. 333.
2 Now Dean of Christ Church.

510 LETTER FROM SIR JAMES PAGET.
valuable contribution to the right understanding of the
relations between Religion and Science.' *
'I have twice studied it carefully, and I trust to my
own profit. It is conclusive of its theme,' the late Sir
Thomas Watson wrote to Dr. Pusey; and, in a letter
thanking him ' for the help of its wise and sure guidance,'
Sir James Paget said : —
I cannot doubt that there is truth in the doctrine of evolution,
and that in its study may be found the best way to the knowledge,
not indeed of the mysteries of creation, which I suppose to be past
finding out, but of the relations of the various forms of organic life
which have been somewhat arbitrarily designated as species. But
I can as little doubt, and your teaching makes me more than ever
sure, that no doctrine of evolution can be reasonably held unless
together with the belief that the whole process has been guided by
the wisdom and power of God. They who hold God to be the
source of all that we call ' force,' and the upholder and director of
all things in which we discern law and order, may study evolution,
I hope, as safely and as carefully as they may study gravitation.
Let me again thank you for helping to make the study safe
for me. To Newman Dr. Pusey wrote : —
To me Darwin's book seemed to leave no room for a Creator ;
he does not deny Him, but he seemed to me to bow Him out of
His creation. . . . They speak of Darwin himself as an amiable
man, and that his theory is not in him what it is in disciples of his.
One of the most interesting letters concerning this
sermon is from the Rev. C. Pritchard, whose arguments
and Dr. Pusey's, as he remarks, would 'commence from
1 The sermon was dedicated ' with truest affection ' to Dr. Acland, Regius
Professor of Medicine at Oxford, ' who devoted the prime of life to the revival
of the study of the book of God's works in Oxford, and through whose kind
care and skill God restored to the author the strength to write it.' — Life, iv.
PP- 334. 335-

1878.] THEOLOGY AND SCIENCE. 51 1
points considerably remote from each other.' 'I think
you will find something satisfactory of mine on the Human
Eye, a scientific speciality of mine, in page 128 of my
" Hulsean Lectures," ' Mr. Pritchard wrote when thanking
him for ' noble words, worthy of Dr. Pusey when noblest'
When I had written it I sent the proof to Darwin (whose
three boys I was then educating, together with three boys of John
Herschel's). He sent back the following reply: 'As for your
criticism, I have not a word to say against it ; you pay me such
handsome compliments, while you press me so hard. As for the
human eye, I confess a difficulty' ! . . . Our young clergy need
some instruction in common things. One of them recently said to
Conybeare, ' I thought the stars went out in the daytime ' ! . . . I
regard your words as an Eirenicon, as the preliminaries of peace
between genuine Science and genuine Theology. ... I see an
immense relief to an enormous strain which is now trying to the
utmost many fine and generous minds, disposed by the Divine
grace to accept and live in the Christian Faith, but still perplexed.
, . . That strain is loosened by the words of your sermon.
The sermon was a kind of supplement to his address
at the Norwich Congress in 1865, and dealt with later
difficulties ; but the same principle inspired both ; that, to
use his own words, now in maturest age, ' theology does
not interfere with science as it reads the book of God's
works.' For that book he had too deep love and veneration
to wish for a moment it should be closed ; he desired that
its study should not be hindered, but rightly guided. As
he said once, speaking of his ' ignorance ' of canon law,
' I cannot study everything ; ' but in all natural facts and
discoveries of science he took vivid interest, whenever they
were brought before him.1
1 One of the writer's earliest recollections of Dr. Pusey is of his introducing
Professor Owen to his young daughter and to her, saying that he had offered

512 BUILDING AT ASCOT PRIORY.
The Winter Vacation of 1878 Dr. Pusey spent at
Christ Church, not attempting to go out, but keeping well
in his large, warm rooms, with 'the magnificent walls,'
as he wrote to Dr. Newman, 'in which I have lived
nearly one-seventh of the time which has passed since
Cardinal Wolsey built them. It is strange to be exempt
from all the sufferings which this cold inflicts on the poor ;
my comfort is that I could not work for God otherwise.'
Another noble life was drawing towards its earthly end.
God preserve you (he wrote to his cousin, Lord Shaftesbury,
February 7, 1879). I have known you for fully sixty years. We
were at college together. I have ventured (presumptuously perhaps)
to differ from some of your theological opinions ; but I have ever
admired and loved your vigorous, intellectual, profound, and
sincere championship, by God's grace, for His revealed truth.
Before Easter he was again at the Hermitage, and
wrote to his son, April 13, 1879 : —
Butterfield is coming down to lay the first stone of some new
cells here on Wednesday or Thursday. If it should be fine he
wanted me to lay it, and he has been a considerable benefactor,
having built without fee both Abbeymere, and St. Saviour's,
Osnaburgh Street.
To the Bishop of Lincoln (Wordsworth) he wrote :—
Easter Eve, 1879.
My dear Lord, — I beg to thank you for your letter. There
is, as far as I see, nothing to object to about the old declaration
to be kind enough to take them through the Museum of Natural History. Dr.
Pusey accompanied them on this visit to the Museum, and his pleased interest
in all the Professor's explanations of various objects, especially of a serpent's
lungs, is still a vivid memory. He said of Professor Owen, ' He is a good man,
and a believer.' After he had changed considerably, Dr. Pusey wrote to Dr.
Newman in later years, ' ... I am very sorry for Owen ; he was such a sweet
person, as I remember seeing him once some twenty years ago or more,' . . .

1878.] LETTER TO BISHOP WORDSWORTH. 513
as to the Athanasian Creed. It seems to me rather wordy, but it
contains no slur on the Creed, as do Archdeacon Hessey's state
ments of objection to it (privately circulated to members of Con
vocation). If one apologized for it, one should have most to
apologize for our Lord (St. Mark xiv. 18, St. John viii. 25, etc.),
as your Lordship well knows. But if this declaration satisfies
anybody, and if any slur is not thrown upon the Creed, as it
would by diminishing the frequency of its use, I see no objection
to it. I do not see any objection, as a matter of faith, to saying some
sort of service over unbaptized children, but it is full of difficulties,
and practically it would be a very grave evil, diminishing that
beautiful choir of little ones who, having been ' made members of
Christ,' have not known what actual sin is. Our people are so
very ill instructed as to the life to come, and to the benefit of
being members of Christ, that if a service were read over unbap
tized babies, very many would not in the least care about having
their children baptized. One strong motive, perhaps the strongest,
which now induces probably the great mass of the poor to bring
their children to baptism, is the fear lest if they should die they
would be ' buried like dogs.' As it is, the number of unbaptized
children must be something very sad. I saw confidentially some
statistics, taken from several large parishes in the east of London,
and the fewness of the children baptized showed that the Church
has so little hold there that influential Churchmen were afraid to
produce them. Your Lordship must know much more of this in
your large diocese. The only idea of the poor is of those they love
being happy. The idea of the bliss of seeing God, of the Beatific
Vision, of being with Christ, I suppose, does not come into their
minds. But a burial service must, I suppose, contain some
thought that those over whom it is said are in bliss of some sort.
This would fully content the poor, except some more than usually
instructed. I should myself think that, to get rid of a seeming
want of kindness towards unbaptized children, there would be real
and terrible want of charity to tens of thousands who might
become members of Christ, and so be admitted to the Beatific
Vision, who would thereby lose it.
2 L

514 LETTER AT EASTER-TIDE.
To one who kindly allows the letter to be used, he
wrote during this vacation : —
Now that it is Easter-time, cherish thanksgiving. We cherish
thanksgiving by thanking. Pray God to give you a great
spirit of thanksgiving. Thank Him for every little thing. A
dear young Hawaiian, whom He has just taken amid terrible
suffering, said she could not see a flower without thanking God
for it. . . . But the thankfulness was not for little things only.
The morning of her departure she received what she did not
know to be her last Communion. She was radiant with joy.
The physician said to her, ' Why, Manoanoa, you are quite bright
again ; ' and wondered how and why.
So, now, thank God for the blue skies, when you have them,
and the flowers as they unfold ; and think ' how wonderful it is
that God should have made all this beauty for me. 0 my God,
how beautiful Thou must be ; prepare me to behold Thee.'
You will mind little contretemps less then, and these too are
subjects of thankfulness ; for through them God teaches us the
great lesson of conformity to His Fatherly will.1
A few recollections, sent by another, are interesting : —
Dr. Pusey said, speaking of humility, ' We should not be
humble if we thought ourselves so. That was what puzzled Sir
1 Mrs. Brine writes that at some time in 1876, ' an impulse made me take
my " Paradise of the Christian Soul," which my father had given me, into the
study where he was writing, and ask him to write in it the verse, text, or hymn
that was his favourite. Without a second's hesitation he took up his pen and
wrote (not as I rather expected some quotation from "The Christian Year,"
or Lyra Apostolica, or the Bible), the following lines of Faber : —
" 111 which Thou blessest is most good,
And unblest good is ill ;
And all is right, which seems most wrong,
So it be Thy sweet will.
I'll do the little I can do,
And leave the rest to Thee."
I felt then, and feel still, that this was the keynote to my father's whole
Ufe.'

1879-1 RECOLLECTIONS. 5 1 5
J. Coleridge in the dear Vicar ; x he could not understand his way
of speaking of himself.'
I asked him as to boldness in prayer, saying I feared that I had
been too familiar. He said no, that one need not fear boldness, if
one remembered that He was the Infinite God. But he said that
twice : ' Remember that He to Whom you are speaking is the
Infinite God.' I remember saying once to him that I thought
either one did not recollect that, and so said one's prayers coldly
and irreverently, or else that if it flashed on the soul, prayer was
impossible ; one could but lie crushed and as it were annihilated.
He said, 'When that happens, you have reached the end of
prayer.' He mentioned (speaking of sure confidence in our Lord)
St. Anselm's directions to one fearing death, and said, ' He is
a good authority, for he was a saint,' and then he said that such
hymns as ' Rock of Ages,' ' Just as I am,' etc., were quite true,
and to be heartily used, only to take care there was not dis
paragement of works. He said, ' When you kneel down, think
that you are surrounded by, plunged in an ocean of His love.'
Another time, ' Be very careful to do ordinary things extraordinarily
well, especially things that come against your own will — to let
nothing be too little to make it an occasion for pleasing God.
Even such a thing as the butter being bad, or food not as you
like it.'
Not long after this conversation he wrote, ' By doing ordinary
things extraordinarily well, must be meant (as far as any can set
it before him) to take especial pains with very ordinary duties.
For, of course, it would be great conceit to think that one did
anything otherwise than very badly. The advice has been useful
to you — perhaps, before, you thought you did things ordinarily
well, and when you were told of the grace of doing ordinary things
extraordinarily well, you came to think that it would be truer to say
that you did ordinary things extraordinarily ill, as it is truer of
most of us. . . . We must not be impatient or downcast even
about our faults. There is often a secret pride in our impatience.
We say to ourselves, " I am ashamed of you ; you ought to do
1 Rev. John Keble.

gi6 RESERVATION OF BLESSED SACRAMENT.
better by this time." Quite true; but this is a reason for admiring
and wondering at God's long suffering, and thanking Him, and
asking for more grace, not for vexation. So, in the battle, do
this, and God will help you, and humble and cheer you at once.'
' I congratulate you,' he says in another note, ' on escaping
praise in regard to  , though I am made the scape-goat.
However, it can't set me up, since it is a simple mistake, and only
illustrates how one gets undeserved praise.'
To a friend, whose illness caused difficulties as to
communicating, he wrote August 14, 1879: —
Is there no one who could give you sick communion ? You
are poorly enough for that. Any one is who cannot go to church
without being ill. A second expedient might be, if some one
could reserve for you in both kinds. I told Bishop Wilberforce
that I had reserved for two persons, and under what circum
stances. The one was my son, on his travels in Greece and in
the East. He carried the Blessed Sacrament about his person,
as St. Ambrose tells us his brother Satyrus did. The other was
 , here. I waited all day, but there was no moment in which
there was not danger of sickness. So I reserved it in the private
chapel. There is no rule against reserving, except in public
celebrations. Bishop Wilberforce's answer was, that though he
could not have done it himself, he did not blame me. . . . Your
infirmities will not hinder the grace of the Sacraments ; only in
this Easter-tide, as well as in Passion-tide, [remind] yourself daily
that our Lord's Human Nature was glorified in consequence of
the depth of His humiliation. In Easter-tide, too, we should seek
to sink more and more into our own worse than nothingness.
The ' defiled worm,' which Bishop Andrewes calls himself, never
rebelled against God's Will. . . .
Say your prayers in whatever position you can best, meditating
or not meditating, saying written prayers, or using ejaculations, or
simply looking at a picture of our Lord or a crucifix, and longing
to be less unlike Him. Thank Him for everything, pray to Him
about everything, and rest in Him.

1 879-1 CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. NEWMAN. 517
When the announcement of the offer of a Cardinal's
hat to Dr. Newman appeared in the papers, together with
the statement that he had declined it, the following letters
passed between him and Dr. Pusey : —
My dearest N., — I was silent, while every one was speaking
of the token of confidence shown to you where you would most
value it. I was glad, both of it and of your declining the outward
expression of it. But I did not like to say anything, for fear it
should be pressed upon you, so that you would not think it right
to decline it. But I thought in my inward heart that your place
would be higher in heaven for declining all on earth. So I was
glad. As for your popularity with the Liberal papers, the words came
into my mind, 'Your fathers killed the prophets, and ye build
their sepulchres,' and I thought, ' Oh, that there had been a little
of this feeling thirty-four years ago.' Your most affectionate, E. B. P.
The Oratory, March 2, 1879.
My dear Pusey, — We look at things from different points of
view. Here have I for thirty years been told by men of all
colours in belief that I am not a good Catholic. It has given me
immense trouble, much mortification, and great loss of time. It
has been used as an argument to keep men back from joining the
Church; men have said, 'Just you see, his own people do not
trust him, the Pope snubs him.' When, then, after this period of
penance, and this long trial of patience and resignation, — say,
would you not yourself in such a case feel it a call of God not to
refuse so great a mercy as a thorough wiping away for ever of this
stigma, such as the offer of a Cardinal's hat involves, and feel it a
heartless act of ingratitude to the generous offerer of it, and to the
warm-hearted friends who had laboured for it, if I refused it ? I
have set myself from the first strongly against the movement in
my favour, because of the change of habits which I thought it
would involve, but the Pope has most graciously granted, what

518 CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. NEWMAN.
has no precedent (I am told) since the seventeenth century, that
I may remain here in the Oratory, not even visiting at Rome, if it
would try my health.
If the common reports are true, the present Pope in his high
place as Cardinal was in the same ill odour at Rome as I was.
Here, then, a fellow-feeling and sympathy with him colours to my
mind his act towards me. He seems to say ' Non ignara mali,'
etc. How can I not supplement his act my giving my assent to
it? Thanks for your sermon, which is most valuable, I see.
Ever yours affectionately,
John H. Newman.
Dr. Pusey replied at once : —
My dearest Friend, — I should not have written had it not
been so assumed that you had absolutely declined the honour, the
offer of which I knew you must so value, coming from one so
highly reverenced even apart from his office. I was glad of the
mark of confidence in you. But it seemed to be so assumed on
all hands that you had declined the honour, that, even because it
was the natural thing to have accepted it, I supposed that you had
a hidden reason for it, and thought that it was the sequel of ' I
have been honoured and obeyed,' etc.1
I had heard that some formerly wished to make you unpopular
at Rome, but I attached no weight to what I did not know any
thing about. I knew that you had the confidence, which you must
have valued, of your own Bishop, who was so much respected ;
and as I could not know anything else, I made my own picture of
you, that the hidden life which you have led was your own choice ;
and I tacitly made a contrast between you and another. But I
ought not to have thought about what I did not know. . . .
1 See Cardinal Newman's lines in the Lyra Apostolica, xix. p. 21 : —
I have been honoured and obeyed,
I have met scorn and slight ;
And my heart loves earth's sober shade
More than her laughing light.

1879.] LETTER TO FATHER BELANY. 519
Certainly I should not have written except as falling in
with what (since I thought it was not contradicted) I suppose
to be your own deliberate choice. So now you will think it
unwritten. Your most affectionate, E. B. P.
To Father Belany he wrote on the same subject,
noticing newspaper reports : —
Christ Church, May 29, 1879.
The idea of my having written to dear Newman most
earnestly to refuse the Cardinalate is, of course, simply absurd !
I heard at one and the same time that it had been offered him,
and that he had declined. . . . All the papers were full of it. I
waited for a week, and then, supposing it to be certain that he had
declined it, I wrote to congratulate him on the mark of confidence
which the offer implied, and on his non-acceptance of the offer.
. . . His still life in the Oratory at Birmingham has been an ideal
to me which I love to dwell upon. However, I found that people
were mistaken, and that dear Newman thought that it would have
been ungrateful in him towards those who had been at the pains
to obtain this honour for him, and that he had accepted it, though
he himself preferred obscurity. So I wrote to retract what I had
said. Why do people gossip about such a sacred thing as a love
of above half a century ? . . . People do not mean to be unkind,
but it is not kind thus to profane such a friendship as his and
mine. . . . You may assure your friends that nothing either has
or can come between my deep love for John Henry Newman.
As for their thinking me pert enough to offer him advice, of
course they are welcome enough to believe me capable of any
folly. . . .
Thank you much for your kind expressions towards myself.
With every good wish. Yours affectionately,
E. B. Pusey.

520 LETTER FROM CARDINAL NEWMAN.
Cardinal Newman wrote to him from Spezia, June 21,
1879 :—
My dear Pusey, — I have wished to write to you ever since
I saw your affectionate letter in the papers, but I have been
hindered by my long and serious illness, from which, at the
distance of two calendar months from its commencement at
Genoa, hardly am I convalescent now. A year ago, when friends
of mine began to agitate for my being made Cardinal, I wrote
strongly against it, saying, ' If you succeed, you will go far to kill
me,' and my presage has been fulfilled. It is a violent wrench
at my age.
As to your private letter to me, which was the cause of your
letter in the papers, I showed it to no one. In conversation I
may have said, ' Pusey and my brother and others are against my
accepting this dignity ;' but if I said it once (which I don't recollect)
I certainly did not say it twice. But I have no time to write more.
Ever yours affectionately,
J. H. Card : Newman.
. . . The dear Doctor comes to me, and I to him (Mr. Skinner
wrote from the Hermitage, August 1, 1879), besides the occa
sional meetings in the wood. He is all sweetness and love, and
I never saw him more vigorous in mind, nor do I find him so
deaf as last year. He is very keen just now on an answer he is
preparing to Farrar's mischievous speculations.
Almost daily notes passed between Dr. Pusey and
Mr. Skinner, who lived in the same house, but with different
entrances to their apartments.
I fear that the weather must prevent your getting on (Dr. Pusey
says in one of these notes) ; me it only keeps in the house, but I
use the old remedy of Sir H. Halford, the physician of George III.,
for old people — a small fire and an open window.
In answer to Canon Ashwell, respecting his letter to

1879.] LETTER TO CANON ASHWELL. 52 1
Bishop Wilberforce on his appointment to the See of
Oxford, he wrote : — Ascot, August 27, 1879.
My dear Canon Ashwell, — I recoUect little of my first
letter to Bishop Wilberforce,1 except that it was a great blunder.
I had been accustomed to the confidence of Bishop Bagot : I was a
friend of his elder brother Robert : I knew that there was a class
of minds in Oxford who might, I hoped, still be retained, but
whom indiscriminate language would tend to drive off. It was
the wont in those days to gain a hearing for patristic teaching by
some disavowal of modern Rome. I remember asking his brother
Henry how it was that, teaching the same as the bishop whom he
had succeeded at East Farleigh, he did not get on with his well-
to-do parishioners. He said, ' He used to follow up his teaching
with a slap at Rome, which I can't.' I was afraid that he would
not speak with the marveUous moderation used by Bishop Bagot —
except on the one occasion, when I think he was acted upon by
others, of Tract 90.
Residing in Oxford habitually, I knew that I was acquainted
with the state of minds there in a way which he, who, I think, had
not resided since his B.A. degree, could not be. I thought then
that I could convey to him information which might be useful to
him and to the Church.
It was not, then, in regard to ' the Oxford Movement ' gene
raUy, but with regard to a definite class of minds, that I wrote.
The Oxford Movement itself had been spreading for some twelve
years — not over England only, but in the United States. It only
expressed my view of what I thought might be expedient for a
certam class of minds whom I knew and the Bishop did not know.
Bishop Bagot would have understood it. I did not know how Httle
he sympathized with their trials. Bishop W. was always outside
the Oxford Movement. He owed much to John Keble, whom
he respected and loved. I had myself repeUed him by a stem,
1 It is given in Bishop Wilberforce's Life, pp. 300-302, and in Dr. Pusey's
Life, iii. pp. 40-42.

522 LETTER TO ENGLISH CHURCH UNION.
unexplained teaching on the gravity of post-baptismal sin in contrast
with the prevailing laxity with which people forgave themselves.
His answer was meant to be a rebuff.
My second letter was meant to be a simple withdrawal.
Bishop W.'s keeping my letter, which was confidential to
himself, and a copy of his own answer, show that he thought at
that time he might make use of it.
I can, therefore, not object to your publishing mine. Only, if
you do, it may be as well to add in a note this explanation,
as showing that it did not relate to the Oxford Movement
generally. Your affectionate, E. B. P.
Dr. Liddon wrote to Dr. Pusey (November 9, 1879),
entreating him not to refuse Lord Halifax's request that he
would write a letter to the members of the English Church
Union, or yield to the feeling that he had not influence.
Dr. Liddon assured him that such a letter ' would have
great weight with a great number of people,' adding, ' I
too feel how great is the danger of our forgetting the most
important truths and duties, while present efforts and
controversies absorb so much of our feeble strength. You
could say this without risk of being misunderstood. If
the ritualists had not done or left undone all that you
have, from time to time, advised, your counsels have never
theless had immense weight upon the whole. I really
don't know what would have happened without them.
And you will be more listened to when you approach
them uncontroversially, and insist on topics which every
conscience knows to be of vital import to itself.1
The greater part of the letter written in answer to
this appeal is given in the Appendix to this chapter. It is
full of interest as an old man's retrospect of the great

i88a] DEATH OF PHILIP PUSEY. 523
Tractarian movement, and is full, also, of weighty warnings
and counsels.
Dr. Pusey was so well in the winter of 1879 that he
ventured to go to Ascot for Christmas. To Mr. Skinner,
who had left it for the winter, he wrote : —
Feast of St. Stephen, 1879.
My dearest Friend, — All Christmas blessing be with you
and yours. This fighting does make one sick at heart. Melanch
thon, in his late years, used the prayer, A rabie theologorum, Libera
nos, Domine. We have great need of the angels' prayer : ' On
earth peace, good-will toward men.'
. . . The dove-cotes look very well. They are finished all but
the last coat of paint. We must pray for doves to fill them.1
In God's providence, Dr. Pusey returned to Christ
Church on January 5 — earlier than had been his wont
when leaving it in winter. For the terrible and un
expected blow of Philip Pusey's sudden death from
apoplexy fell on him nine days later. He was called to
his death-bed after they had parted for the night, and
watched by him until, at 3 a.m. on Thursday morning,
January 15, the call came to one of the most heroic of life-
sufferers. His father wrote, the same morning, to Dr. Liddon,
who was at Christ Church : — January 15, 1880.
Your loving heart will grieve that it has pleased God
to take my son. Yesterday he was doing things as usual for me :
went to the Bodleian to get a book for me. After a cheerful
1 His prayer has been granted ; the novices at Ascot Priory have more
than filled them, and have overflowed into guest rooms, built, not long ago,
by the present Superior. More accommodation for Sisters is now urgently
needed.

524 SERIOUS ILLNESS.
evening, and being at family prayers, he went upstairs. A fit of
apoplexy was God's messenger ; and about three he was on his
way to the judgment-seat of Christ. You will pray for him. I
was there, but he could not hear a sound.
After sending this note, Dr. Pusey broke down, utterly
stunned. His daughter came to him at once.
Dr. Acland told my husband (she wrote to Mr. Skinner on the
2 ist) that for the first three days he has expected, hour by hour,
to see my father laid in the same grave with my brother. He
seemed to be in a kind of stupor — more than the perfect calmness
with which one knew my dear father would receive anything that
God's hand laid on him; it seemed more like physical torpor.
Dr. Acland wished him to try and get up on Saturday, so he made
the attempt, and sat up for a quarter of an hour. I have not
broken down through all the distress and strain of the last few
days ; but the sight of that dear face — so sunken, so fixed, so
drawn, and so stunned — upset me, and I was obliged to leave the
room till I could recover. We had not noticed it whilst his face
was buried amongst the pillows. He was up for two hours on
Sunday, and sat propped up in his armchair or lay on the sofa —
neither opened a paper or touched a book. Dr. Acland was
pained to see the change, and did not wish him to get up yester
day. His mind is as clear as ever when he feels inclined to exert
it. I think he shrinks from doing so, from the natural fear of
awaking past memories. Clara Fletcher is coming to-day; and
my father told Dr. Acland he would see her (but not to-day) if
she would make no allusion to the past. January 22.
My father has passed a more restless night, and I think that
is a good sign. The almost unnatural calm of the last few days
was making us very anxious. Yesterday I was greatly relieved to
see that he slept less, good as the sleep has been for the brain.
I feel more hopeful, now that that extreme calm has passed away.
If his dear life is spared, humanly speaking, it will be owing to
Dr. Acland. His loving care is beyond all words. . .

i88o.] DEAN LIDDELL' S SERMON. 525
On Sunday,- January 18, Dean Liddell, in his sermon at
Christ Church, spoke beautiful words of him whose earthly
tabernacle still lay in his old home.
While I am writing this, tidings reach me of the sudden death
of the only son of our oldest and most honoured canon. Most
of you must have seen that small, emaciated form, swinging itself
through the quadrangle, up the steps, or along the street, with
such energy and activity as might surprise healthy men. But few
of you could know what gentleness and what courage dwelt in
that frail tenement. ... In pursuing his studies, whenever it was
necessary to consult manuscripts at a distance, he shrank from no
journey, however toilsome. Everywhere on those journeys he won
hearts by his simple, engaging manner, combined with his help
lessness and his bravery. He was known in Spain, and Turkey,
and Russia : at Paris, or Madrid, or Moscow, the impression was
the same. The first question put by the monks of Mount Athos
to their next Oxford visitor was significant — ' And how is Philip-
pos?' One might speak of the pleasant smile with which he
greeted his friends, his brave cheerfulness under lifelong suffering,
and what seemed in him an absolute incapacity of complaining ;
his delight in children — the sure sign of an innocent and happy
temper ; his awe and reverence for Almighty God, and constant
desire to serve and please Him. When it was brought home to
him that his infirmities disabled him from taking Holy Orders, as
he had desired to do, he only said that his wish, then, was to do
what he might be able for God's service at any time and in any
way. To such a one death could have no terror — death could
not find him unprepared. ... I need not say how many prayers
have been and are breathed that God Almighty and our Lord
Jesus Christ would comfort the bereaved and honoured father,
who, just forty years ago, saw her who was truly the half of his
being interred beneath the pavement of this church, and will now
have to see his only son carried to the grave before him. . . .
God will comfort him, we trust ; God has comforted him, we
know.

526 PHILIP PUSEY'S LAST DAY.
Dr. Pusey had written to Newman from Ilfracombe
(August 12, 1844), after Philip's confirmation : —
My poor boy's first Communion was a happy one ; thank you.
I was by him, but a friend told me he returned with a face full of
joy, and he told me afterwards, ' I said to our Lord that I was
very unworthy, but I offered my heart to Him, and I prayed Him
to keep it for me, and do with it what He would.'
All his after-life was spent in accordance with this
offering and petition, and now all the long years of weary
suffering and privation were but as a dream when one
awaketh. The fragments of that last day on earth (his sister wrote,
January 22), which we gradually gather in together, are most
touchingly beautiful, and will be a comfort to my father by-and-by.
The morning service at the Cathedral, work at the Bodleian, a
long talk full of life and energy with Mr. Deane, who takes
my father's Hebrew Lectures, a particularly bright dinner in the
evening, his welcome to my son, his kind and chatty questions
about our children, their pets, their dogs, etc., work in his own
study, family prayers, a cheerful good-night to my father, and
then — in ten minutes — perfect unconsciousness to things of this
earth for five hours — no suffering, no pain — and then the end.
On Tuesday, January 20, all that was mortal of Philip
Edward Pusey was laid to rest in the small graveyard, on
the south side of the Cathedral, Dr. King saying the
Burial Service. Mrs. Brine wrote, January 22 : —
My father has not yet been able to be consulted respecting
any of the arrangements. He seemed to take no notice how time
passed — never but once alluded to the subject, except to say to
Dr. Acland in his own sweet way, ' Let it be all as Mary likes.'
He asked no questions, except the day and hour of the Holy
Communion, and of the Burial Service. He then watched the

i88o.] ILLNESS AND EXHAUSTION. 527
time come, and at the last moment said so sweetly and unselfishly,
Well, dear, now you must go. Send one of the servants to me ;
I shall be all right.' I was obliged to tell my precious father
that this once I could not obey him ; but that, as I am his only
child, he must let me remain with him, in which he acquiesced by
a dear smile. He only asked when it was over, and then said not
another word till last night, when he began talking calmly and
quietly on the subject nearest to his heart — my own dear mother.
I can never express the tender, reverential sympathy that has
been shown throughout the College. The Dean's unwearied
exertions and thoughtfulness must have been the more trying to
him, as they must have revived all the sad memories connected
with the place we have chosen.1
Ten days later she writes of ' high pulse, restlessness,
and wandering yesterday,' but that —
To-day he is quite himself again, and has actually opened and
read some of his letters. I do not suppose he will ever be so
strong as he was before. . . . He never alludes to anything
beyond asking me on Wednesday where dear Philip was laid.
He varies so much that I am often quite puzzled (was his
daughter's report in February). He has not been quite so com
fortable to-day and yesterday, but he has been doing more ; writing
a few letters, and looking at his dear books, not much, but still he
has not slept quite so much, and has roused up a little more, and,
I am thankful to say, has talked to me quite comfortably about
dear Philip. I wanted to get back to the possibility of his name
coming quite naturally amongst us, as one of us still ; and now the
i ce is quite broken, and my dear father can and will talk of him
again, and does not mind my saying little things about old days.
I felt the silence was unnatural, although I knew it proceeded
from an exhausted brain. . .
Dear — it would go to your very heart to see that dear face. I
do think it grows whiter and thinner every day. Dr. Acland said
1 Philip Pusey's grave was close to that of the Dean's young daughter,
Edith Liddell.

528 LETTER TO MR. SKINNER.
to-night, ' I have never seen it look so beautiful. It is a saintly
face.' The worry and the cares have gone out of it, somehow,
and there is such a calm come, but I must not write about it, else
I shall break down.
His hearing is quite comfortable ; but then I always noticed
that deafness came on when he was worried, and now he is quiet,
his hearing is much improved. Sometimes he can see Dr. Liddon,
and sometimes he cannot.
By the end of February Mrs. Brine wrote of him as
having 'fallen back pretty well into his ordinary ways,'
and doing ' a little work now and then.' Very gradually
the stricken father 'wandered back to life,' and took up
the work which for two years more he was still to do.
His daughter wrote on March 2 : —
My dear father opens all his letters now, and goes on com
fortably. He does not leave his two rooms, but has a fairly good
appetite, and occupies himself with his books and papers for some
portion of the day.
He was able to write himself to Mr. Skinner, on April 3.
Christ Church, Oxford,
Saturday in Easter Week, 1880.
My dearest Friend,— The exhaustion of that night was so
great that, notwithstanding the great mercy of God to me in it, I
was laid up for some weeks, and although I thanked God for
having preserved me such a son for nearly fifty years, I could not
read the letters, which were written in such kindness to me.
When I could read them, I still could not write of them.
God was indeed very good. My dear son was cut off from all
human aid. He was for those six hours insensible to the outer
world. He could hear absolutely nothing, nor feel anything. I
dared not give him the Viaticum, because something returned from
the stomach. I did not dare even moisten his lips with the

1880.] REPLY TO DR. FARRAR. 529
Blood of Christ. But God was with him. Towards the end the
nurse said to me, ' He must be going now.' I looked at his face —
you remember that his features were plain ; but there was a calm,
heavenly beauty, such as, I think, I have never seen. Others
told me that it continued as long as it could be seen. God must
have been speaking to him, and left that superhuman beauty.
Thanks be to Him.
Since I have been able to use my brain, Acland advises me to
resume what work I could, so I have taken up my often-interrupted
pages, ' What is of Faith as to Everlasting Punishment ? ' 1 in the
hope of also meeting some popular objections. . . .
Let me hear how you are. Your very affectionate,
E. B. P.
By June he had finished his ' Reply ' to Dr. Farrar's
book. ' It is, as all you do, thorough in its research,' Cardinal
Newman wrote to him, ' and sure to be useful to docile and
humble minds, and those, I trust, are many.'
You will be glad to hear (Dr. Pusey wrote to the Cardinal)
that your argument in the letter to Professor Plumptre, which I
republished, has so far moved Dr. Farrar that he writes to me,
' I am perfectly willing to substitute for the conception of a new
probation, that of a future " purification," for those who have not
utterly extinguished the grace of God in their hearts, if that be
the more Catholic view.' There is still the 'if and the 'view,'
but it seems a step.
Once more, probably for the last time on earth, the
1 The reply (What is of Faith as to Everlasting Punishment ?) is a book
of nearly 300 pages, the last book of any size which came from his pen, and
one of the most well-timed and powerful. . . . The main argument concludes
with some striking thoughts about the state of the departed, which seem to
have been suggested by the recent passing away of so many of his friends. —
Life, iv. pp. 350, 352.
2 M

530 LETTER TO THE ' TIMES.'
friends must have met, for Cardinal Newman says in a
note dated June 20, 1880: 'I was very glad to see
William x for a minute after I had parted with you.'
It must have been during this summer, I think, at
Ascot, where he spent the Long Vacation, that, seeming
out of heart one day on account of the increase of infidelity,
he took up a little picture-card, with the words underneath,
I do the little I can do,
And leave the rest to Thee,
and spoke of it as comforting.
As the results of the Public Worship Act made them
selves more and more felt through persecution and im
prisonment of clergy for obeying what Dr. Pusey held to
be plain directions in the Prayer-book, he turned the rather
from anything he had regretted in the manner of it, and
came forward "in their defence. In a letter to the Times,
dated January 14, 1 881, he wrote —
Whatever mistakes any of the Ritualists made formerly, no
Ritualist would now, I believe, wish to make any change without
the hearty goodwill of the people. But all along those who have
closely observed the Ritual movement have seen that it has been
especially the work of the laity. While the clergyman has been
hesitating, his parishioners have often presented him with the
vestments which they wished him to wear. Mr. Enraght and Mr.
Mackonochie have not been struggling for themselves, but for their
people. . . . Agents of the Church Association tried in vain for
years to find a third parishioner in the Mission at the London
Docks to disturb the ritual of the priest who had won them to
God, and whom, with the ritual which he had taught them, they
loved — Mr. Lowder.
The following copy of a letter, dated June, 1881, is
1 Rev. W. Pusey.

1881.I LETTER TO A BISHOP. 531
amongst his papers, but there is no clue as to whom it
was written —
I am sorry to hear of the strife and bitterness in some of
the parishes in your Lordship's large diocese. Of course, there
is the question, who, besides Satan, stirs it up. As far as I have
seen, the assailants have been the Church Associationists : the
Ritualists and their defenders have only wished to do their
Master's work in peace. . . .
. . . Your Lordship must know that toleration is allowed to
every school of clergy except the Ritualists. I have nothing to
say for those who revive what is obsolete without the goodwill of
their people. But those whom the Church Associationists perse
cuted are just those who have their people with them. . . .
There have, of course, been mistakes among the Ritualists. But
so there are everywhere. But everything is tolerated except them.
Dean Stanley's school is tolerated to an extent which some of
them feel to be hollow. . . . One of them, in whose family I am
much interested, formally renounced his Orders/because he felt
it so hollow.
The Puritan section is tolerated, although they, many of
them, still disbelieve the Sacrament of Baptism which they
administer. Only a war of extermination is carried on by the Church
Associationists, and, I fear, that in too many of the Puritan section
it is a war against what has always been the faith of the Church,
which, since the Bennett judgment, they cannot attack directly.
This is the bond of union between the old High Church and the
Ritualists. Your Lordship has seen or known of one side : will you allow
me to give you instances of another ? St. Barnabas has been the
earliest of the Ritualist Churches in Oxford. Corpus had, at the
time when Bishop Mylne was there, tutors of an advanced liberal
school. Its present Head learned, by having care of a parish, that
something more was wanted for the people, and learned more, I
know not how much. The undergraduates were remarkable for
their steady adherence to faith. . . . They were not disturbed by

532 REV. S. F. GREEN'S IMPRISONMENT.
any of the Latitudinarianism or misbelief which then too infected
Oxford. Bishop Mylne, who was then quite young, told me the
secret of it. They went one by one to St. Barnabas, and there
learnt the reality of religion. Dr. Bright (who, like myself, is no
Ritualist, but has much sympathy with them) said to me a few
days ago, ' St. Barnabas is a great power for good in Oxford.'
To Hon. C. L. Wood he wrote, in August, 1881, with
deep feeling, of Mr. Green's imprisonment in Lancaster
gaol, for no fault save ' following a distinct direction of the
Prayer-book, and giving to his people a service which they
loved,' and he alludes to his own challenge to the Church
Association to prosecute him for doing what the same
judgment under which Mr. Green suffered, had forbidden.
' It needed only,' he said, ' to renounce his convictions, to
violate his conscience, to tell his people, whom he loved,
that he had misled them by following a direction in our
Common Prayer-book, that the insertion of that direction
at the last revision of our Prayer-book was a mere blunder,
that they might trifle with every direction of the Prayer-
book, neglect everything, contravene everything ; one thing
only they must not do — obey. This has been the battle ;
on the one side of strong will to obey, which was to be
immured within iron bars lest it should be again free to
obey ; on the other force, under the sacred but abused name
of Law, bidding men disobey under the penalty of being
imprisoned.' Dr. Pusey never laid down the arms which
he had taken up in 1850 against the Judicial Committee
of the Privy Council deciding spiritual matters, and pub
lished early this year a letter to Dr. Liddon, ' Unlaw in
Judgments of the Judicial Committee and its Remedies.' x
1 A valuable rimmi of the history of the High Church party in their

i88i.] LETTER TO MR. SHAW STEWART. 533
Of ' a few words ' which Mr. Shaw Stewart had asked
him to write for the English Church Union of ' encourage
ment and advice,' he says : —
They would be what you would expect from an old man — to
patience, perseverance, prayer.
We are represented as rebels, or encouraging against what are
dear to every Englishman, or every true son of the Church, the
authority of the law or of our episcopate, collective or individual.
We are, and the older of us have been, for thirty years engaged
in a contest with a Court which was only made a Court of Final
Appeal in ecclesiastical causes in simple ignorance on the part of
its authors of what they were doing. Lord Brougham, as he told
us himself, had no idea that he was transferring the determination
of controversies of Faith to a mere Civil Court, whose chief
occupation was to the judging of Admiralty causes. ... In so
doing he contravened in simple ignorance the decrees of General
Councils, which appointed that in any matter of Faith an appeal
should lie to the Provincial Council. He contravened also
Magna Charta, and the oldest synods in the land. He might
just as reasonably, I believe more reasonably, have transferred to
a court-martial, or to a jury of twelve pious unlettered communi
cants of our peasantry. . . .
This, then, was our first effort in 1850, to obtain a repeal of
that which Lord Brougham had procured by mistake, by which
matters of Faith were taken from the Church and transferred to
those who need not necessarily be, with two exceptions, members
of the Church. So that a Court, which originally consisted of
bishops, to the exclusion of civil judges, now consists of civil
judges, to the exclusion of bishops, and might in any given cause
consist of judges who reject the Faith of the Church of England
to pronounce what her Faith is.
struggles in the courts of law. In review of all the cases since 1850, he shows
that his friends had been in a state of continuous protest against the Final
Court of Appeal, and that there could be no peace until that Court was
reformed. — Life, iv. p. 364.

534 LETTER ON THE VATICAN DECREE.
The following is amongst letters of which he left
copies, dated 1881.
Disappointing to me as was the Vatican decree, I thought
that it would at least have gained us peace. It is such an utter
overthrow of all which we have been always taught of the ' quod
ubique, quod semper! etc., which seemed common ground between
us and the Roman Church. And one can hardly read anything
in antiquity which does not go against it.
General Councils become an absurdity, since they can add
nothing of authority. To what end to bring bishops from the
ends of the earth — old, maimed by persecution — to die at Nice or
Chalcedon, if the Bishop of Rome could have framed the Creed
himself? To what end to remain under the effects of the latro-
cinium of Ephesus, until the Council of Chalcedon, if the Pope
by his single voice could have set it straight? To me the
most remarkable case was that examination of St. Leo taken by
obscure bishops, and its being accepted, one by one by them,
not at aU as coming from the Bishop of Rome, but because it
agreed with the Epistle of St. Cyril, which the Council of Ephesus
had received, and with the two councils before it, which Bossuet
dwells upon. St. Leo could have known nothing of the prerogative
now ascribed to his see, since his representatives did not except
against this, though they did against a canon altering the order of
the Patriarchates. Or how could St. Gregory the Great ' rever
ence the four General Councils as the four Gospels,' if he could
himself have written them ?
To me it seemed that it would become an impediment to
people going to Rome, that they would have to declare their
belief in what was so contrary to facts; apart from the errors
which even Bellarmine admits.
But I have been disappointed to find the young clergy so
ignorant of antiquity as not to know the difficulty.
There were few things more remarkable about Dr.
Pusey than his unchanging constancy, whether in his
estimate of injuries to the Church, or in personal affection.

1 88 1.] PRIVATE AFFECTIONS. 535
I have just heard your tidings about good Sir William (he
wrote, August 22, his eighty-first birthday); it takes away one's
breath.1 I remember that Tyler, when tutor at Oriel, told me
that his look of devotion at Holy Communion made him almost
fall back. What an amount of early devotion it bespeaks. I
have known him about sixty years. I will gladly see you at three,
but I could not talk about business to-day.
It is this side of Dr. Pusey's character which his
daughter is anxious should be known.
He was not only (she writes) the grave ascetic. My children
know another side of him. Hearing that my daughter had ex
pressed a wish to 'come out,' at the ball given in 1881 by our
House to Prince Leopold at Commemoration, he at once sent for
tickets, which were a guinea each, and gave them to me. He sat
up to see her dressed and start, and when we came down to
breakfast next morning, his first question was whether she had had
nice partners, and enjoyed herself. When my girls were growing
up, he wished me to ask young men to the house, and he ordered
the garden beds to be cleared away, and a tennis lawn made in
the lower garden. Tennis was new at that time, and my dear
father used to leave his books, and stand watching the game from
his study window. He said that ' it was very good exercise for
the young people.'
Concerning a husband and wife in unbelief he wrote : —
August 22, 1881.
Poor  must wish to be blinded. Not so she. I
fear that he is afraid that if his wife should become a Christian, she
would give him no rest until he became so too. Mrs.  must
tell her that it is a bliss beyond all bliss to love Jesus. ' Come
unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest.' She has but to take Him at His word, and to say
1 The death of the late Right Hon. Sir William Heathcote.

536 CARE FOR INDIVIDUAL SOULS.
the most sceptical prayer, if the best she can ; such as any which
I wrote before, or even —
1 Jesus, Saviour, save me, if Thou canst hear and save.'
Intellectual questions may be above her, but the Gospel is for
the poor. The fisherman and the tent-maker, taught by Him, of
Whom it was said, ' Is not this the carpenter's son ? ' redeemed
the world. ' Love, not intellect, is God's special gift to women,'
Dr. Pusey said, and added, 'I reverence the gift, as all
God's gifts, when it is given. Only, I think that they are
straining women's minds. Some break down ; some are
made hard.'
' I don't know that I need give this,' one writes when
sending the following note, ' except as a little token of how
that last year, and even with his great deafness, there was
the same seeking after a soul as when, long years before,
he had forced one to talk to him.'
I hear a report that you are here. If so, how long do you
stay ? For . . . there must be things which you would Hke to
talk over. To-day I have had a very persevering cough, else I
meant to have asked you to come to-day. . . . My hearing is so
uncertain, sometimes giving me pain, sometimes failing me, or
leaving me quite uncertain as to the one word on which everything
turns, that I have been obliged to give up the use of the horn.
He had written, from Christ Church, when seventy-
nine, and amidst all his manifold engagements, concerning
one whom he thought he could help : —
Do bid  summon up courage to come here. Mary is
here, anyhow till Friday. ... If  can get an escort to
Oxford, or come in the lady's carriage, the maid will look after
her temporal wants, and there will be room in this house. But I
am labouring under a fit of temporary deafness, and it will be
well to write as much as may be.

i88i.] LETTER ON HUMILITY. 537
The two following notes are amongst letters which the
writer is permitted to use : —
In confession we ought to lay open our wound to the merciful
Physician. We ought to believe in God and hope in Him, and
love Him as our own Father, Who loves us not for any desert of
our own, but against our deserts. And we ought to go about our
daily task as being ourselves the objects of God's undeserved
infinite love, not as matter of our own personal conviction, but as
God's truth.
Do not be down-hearted, be humble, do not crave praise nor
sympathy. Be humble towards  ; take any blame humbly,
as deserving more; cast yourself on the infinite love of Jesus,
and fear not that He will exalt you in the Great Day, if you keep
yourself, by His grace, lowly and humble here. . . .
Avoid all self-exaltation ; it is the surest way to lead to abase
ment. As to charity, remember that 'Speak not evil one of
another ' is just as much a command as ' Thou shalt not steal,'
and that even the poet says it is an aggravated form of stealing to
deprive another of any reputation he may have.
That wonderful love and care for individuals never
lessened. One of the Ascot Sisters, working in London
during an epidemic of small-pox in 1880, took the disease,
and had it severely. Notwithstanding his great age, Dr.
Pusey fully intended to go to see her, but this was
positively forbidden by his doctor.
' I am very sorry to be hindered from coming to see
you,' he wrote to her ; ' but, if I got to London, the stairs
would be a difficulty. I never go upstairs now. But God
will give you no more illness than He sees good for you.'
On the Sister's return to Ascot for change of air, she
was, she writes, ' foolishly troubled at being marked by
small-pox ; and he used to comfort me, and tell me that

538 DEATH OF MR. SKINNER.
" Jesus has marked you thus so as to seal you for His
own," and that had I died, " Jesus would have owned you
as one of His martyrs." '
From Christ Church Dr. Pusey wrote (January 9, 1882)
of his friend Mr. Skinner's death, who had passed away on
December 29, 1881 : —
To me too it is the absence of one more on earth with whom
I had continual intercourse.
It is so beautiful, too, that all traces of suffering were gone,
and to hear of the beauty of that earthly tabernacle. When I
saw the same unearthly beauty in my son's countenance, I felt
sure that Almighty God must have spoken to his soul when he
was beyond human aid.
It is marvellous how God perfects His own through suffering.
I should be ashamed not to have any, except that I could not
work for God as I hope, if I had it.
' The next time I saw Dr. Pusey,' another writes, ' was
on Sunday, May 7. I parted from him in the smaller
room on the ground floor, which used to be his study
long ago, before he moved into the dining-room,1 and in
which I had seen him for the first time, now so many years
ago. I must have read him some letter about religious
difficulties, for the following note, the last he sent me, is
dated May 11, 1882.'
I cannot quite make out the class of minds of whom  is
speaking. From his description I should have thought they were
believers into whose minds Satan cast doubts, such as Pascal,
who must have had a sceptical mind. Pascal's advice came to
this, ' Disregard them, and do some act of faith.' That person,
1 For the last two or three years, Dr. Pusey used the large study (the one
which appears in the frontispiece, formerly the dining-room) as his bedroom,
to avoid going upstairs, and took the smaller room again as his study.

iSS2.] LOVE THE FOUNDATION. 539
about whom I spoke, said to me, ' Oh, E  , there are some
doubts which one can only overcome on one's knees.' What I
should fear was, that they had not love enough. One who loves
Jesus might be worried by sceptical thoughts, but he is founded
on the Rock.
But here, at least, the misery is that those who are unsettled
as to the Faith will not go to those who wish to help them.
Dr. Liddon was complaining of this to me the other day. ' They
won't come.'
God bless you evermore.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXVI.
LETTER TO MEMBERS AND ASSOCIATES OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH
UNION.
Christ Church, Oxford, November, 1879.
My dear Friends and Brothers, — Your good President
has asked me, since you have chosen me to be your clerical vice-
president, to write to you in our troubles, and to suggest (if I
could) anything which might be of use to members of our society.
It is an office which I never, I believe, undertook before, because
the Church has not given me any office to volunteer any opinions
in an address to others. However, since we are bound together
in one society, and I have the advantage of years, it may not be
unfitting to write to you.
Of course, in speaking of what seems to me to be wanting, I
am speaking of appearances only, as one may judge of public
speeches, letters, or the like — not of the heart, which the Searcher
of hearts alone knows.
It is a time of unusual activity. But in activity there is apt to
be too much of mere nature. I remember being much struck,
when young, by the reflection of one of that pious school of the
old Evangelicals in his old age — ' Much activity which we hoped
to be grace, was nature.' .
In activity, there is the tendency to forget one's self. Of
external efforts to promote religion, there is abundance. Con
gresses, conferences, guild meetings, E.C.U. meetings — aU jostle
together and occupy so much time and thought that there is peril

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXVI. 541
lest we neglect the care of our own souls. There is the risk lest
we should mistake zeal for God's truth for love of Himself.
Thou to wax fierce
In the cause of the Lord ;
To threat and to pierce
With the heavenly sword !
The Altar's pure flame
Consumes as it soars ;
Faith meetly may blame,
For it serves and adores.
Thou warnest and smitest ?
Yet Christ must atone
For a soul that thou slightest —
Thine own.1
I hope that I shall not seem to you laudator temporis acti if
I mention some advantages which we had in those bright early
Tractarian days, which some now look down upon.
The Tractarians, I may say in the outset, were not behind
hand in what they taught, as some now think. As early as the
Tenth Tract there was the old language of Ancient Liturgies,
that the priest was commissioned to make bread and wine the
Body and Blood of Christ. It was excepted against. The writer
(J. H. N.) simply said that he knew not how else to express
himself. The little band began to do the little they could do, leaving
the rest to God. An acute man, Dr. Hawkins, Provost of Oriel,
said of the Tracts on their first appearance, ' I know that they
have a forced circulation.' We (to join myself with my betters)
put the leaven into the meal, and waited to see what would come
of it. When it began to work, it became clear Whose doing it
was. We had on our lips, ' This is the Lord's doing, and it is
marvellous in our eyes.' But then this expanded our thoughts.
We did not know what might not be in store. The number of
armed soldiers of Christ who sprang up, when the trumpet was
blown with no uncertain sound, showed how much real faith there
1 Lyra Apostolica, No. 36. Weakness of Nature, by Cardinal Newman.

542 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXVI.
was which would answer to the prolonged call. Every pious
person seemed to us a future torch-bearer of the full truth. If
any did not yet believe in their baptism, they had of course to be
taught it from Holy Scripture and the Church ; if they received
it, they had passed the spot where the two roads parted ; and they
had already received, in principle, the Sacramental system, and
we could trust that the Spirit of Truth would teach them the rest.
They had the root of the matter in them. We were not disap
pointed. Some of the most energetic teachers of Catholic truth
have been (as J. H. N. once was) Evangelicals. But then we had
no individual opponents. The truth, not we, was to prevail.
Plenty of people wrote and spoke against us. We read it all,
took no pubHshed notice of it, but framed what we next wrote
with a view to it. . . . Our object became to Catholicize England.
With such an object we could not care about jolts or roughnesses
upon the road. What in us may have been nature, in you must
be grace. Love will win others, not controversy. Bitterness and
contempt are now apparent in controversial writing, where there
is not indifference. This, then, seems to be our first need, and
the cry of the heart, ' More love, more love ! ' ' Love is life's
only sign.' . . . Fasting was often prolonged, as in the ancient
Church. An eminent physician expressed surprise at there being
so much indisposition at Eastertide.1 I do not name these things
as to be imitated, but as illustrative of the times. Of course
blunders were made ; some about health, grave.
But then people had no time or heart for fault-finding. They
had enough to do in themselves. . . . The penitential character
of our services was, I remember, strikingly brought out by Isaac
Williams in one of. the later Tracts. Even the slowness of the
restoration of Holy Communion had its advantages. People
hungered the more for the Bread of Life, prepared more diligently,
and thanked more devoutly. A pious layman wrote last month —
' I often fear that in these days our Communions, though more
1 Dr. Pusey's own practice was to take no food from the evening of
Maundy Thursday until Easter Day. In old age he was obliged to relax
this, but even after seventy his fast during Holy Week was rigorous.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXVI. 543
frequent, are not so good as those of our fathers in days when
weekly Communion was hardly heard of.'
Another pious layman, whose spirit God has stirred, writes :
' God has called us to higher things : we of the English Church
have had a special visitation of God : we have seen the beauty
and symmetry of the Catholic Faith : we have felt the marvellous
efficacy of the Sacraments to save us from sin and lead us to
perfection. And what have we to show for it all ? Are we better
than our fathers, who were less privileged ? Judging from my
own knowledge of myself and others like-minded, I must confess
that our great responsibilities sit terribly lightly on our shoulders.
We want a new crusade against laxity, half-heartedness, and
worldliness : we want to proclaim the ideal life for the sons of
the Catholic Faith in the nineteenth century world. We have
had enough of party organisation, of fancy Churchmanship, of
dilettante Catholicism.'
My dear friends, Advent is coming, and has its own lessons ;
to prepare for His coming in great humility, humble ourselves,
and so to prepare for His coming in His glorious Majesty, and to
judge ourselves.
There is said to be extraordinary grace upon doing ordmary
things extraordinarily well. We do not want fresh helps, or fresh
practices, but to use well what we have ; to remember our Lord's
warning, ' Judge not, that ye be not judged,' and beware of judg
ment of others ; His saying, ' By thy words thou shalt be con
demned,' and beware of censures ; and that other, ' Love one
another, as I have loved you,' with a love whose fruit was that
dread Sacrifice of Calvary ; and hush all bitterness and strife ; and
the words of our Judge, ' I have somewhat against thee, because
thou hast forsaken thy first love; because thou art lukewarm, I
will spue thee out of my Mouth ; ' and see whether our preparations
for Holy Communion are as careful and thorough, our thanks
givings as fervent, our diligence to remember through the day
Whom we have received, and to detain Jesus in the soul, as
habitual, as when Communion was less frequent; whether our
penitent remembrance of sin, it may be long past, is as earnest as
when we had fewer opportunities for Confession and Absolution.

544 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XXVI.
We have it continually in our mouths that ' Confession is a great
help towards perfection.' Where is our perfection? What we
want is not to strengthen a party, but the spiritual elevation of the
whole Church. The Hearer of prayer will hear us, if, in the
coming Advent, We pray earnestly for the revival of our own
spiritual life and that of all our brethren, those, too, who speak
against us or persecute any of us. . . .
Do not think that in what I have written I mean to reflect
upon any one. It would be contrary to the whole meaning of
this letter, which, at the suggestion of others, I have ventured to
write to you. Your affectionate Friend and Servant,
E. B. Pusey,
Vice-President, E.C.U.

CHAPTER XXVII.
LAST DAYS.
1882.
L'anima santa .
... da martiro
E da esilio venne a questa pace.
Paradiso, c. x.
To love God, to work for God — these words sum up
the story of Dr. Pusey's life. Loving as he did, how
could it be but a joy, shining brighter than even duty, to
work for Him Whom, not having seen, he loved ? His
eighty-second birthday found him still at that labour in
the vineyard, begun in the early morning of life — labour
never slackened during the few years of a great earthly
love and happiness — taken up with severer self-devotion
two days after all that was mortal of her who had been
his love was laid in the grave.
He had continued his ministrations to the Sisters at
Ascot during the few days before his birthday, besides, as
usual, reading for his Hebrew Lectures. But the end of
his service in exile, of this life's imperfect work and effort
had come, and his translation to that existence where
God's servants shall serve Him, and shall see His face,
2 N

546 LAST PUBLIC WORDS.
was close at hand. St. Bartholomew's Day, August 24,
was his last of health, and was clouded by his deep
sympathy for the Rev. S. F. Green, still in Lancaster
gaol. He was unable to get up the following morning ;
but was much better by Sunday the 27th, rising at nine,
and occupying himself as usual during the week which
followed, though failing when he tried to read for his
Lectures in the coming Term.
His last effort was, with his usual chivalry, to take up
arms on behalf of Mr. Green, writing, on August 24, an
account of his condition in prison to the Times, which
brought upon him a correspondence with the Archbishop
of York, for which he was physically wholly unfit. But,
as one dying on the battle-field, he rallied once more,
and wrote again to the Times on August 31, declaring a
slander of Mr. Green, which had appeared in a letter in
its columns (and concerning which Dr. Pusey made
careful inquiry), to be ' absolutely and entirely untrue,' and
ending, ' Idle words have to be given an account of at an
unerring tribunal ' — his last public utterance.
He had ever loved righteousness, and hated iniquity ;
and this was his last struggle for justice. It probably
exhausted his failing energies. There was a reaction of
depression on Sunday, September 3, and on Monday,
when trying, evidently with difficulty, to cross his room,
he fell forward on his bed, and for a time seemed un
conscious. When he opened his eyes, after he had
been placed in a chair, he seemed to recognize no one,
but asked to be moved to his bed, which he never left
again. He had spent the morning reading the Hebrew
Bible, and had sat up to lunch as usual, and seen his doctor.

1882.] LAST ILLNESS. 547
There was nothing after this in his physical condition
save flickerings of the vital flame. Yet his friend and
most trusted physician, Sir Henry Acland, who had been
sent for, did not consider his illness worse than some from
which he had recovered, though saying that he should
think any other man in Dr. Pusey's condition not likely
to live for twenty-four hours. Sir Henry sent a trained
nurse to attend on him, and there were slight rallies ; but,
on the whole, increasing weakness, restlessness, and periods
of unconsciousness. His daughter started for Ascot as
soon as a telegram from the Ascot doctor bade her come,
and took charge of her dying father. Her story of his
last days is so touching in its simplicity that it is given
here : —
The doctor said that I had better stay that night l at his house.
He had seen my father at ten o'clock, comfortably settled for the
night, with the nurse who had come from London, and thought
I should only excite him by arriving so late. He took me to the
Hermitage next morning at eight o'clock, just asked how my
father was, and, hearing that he had had a comfortable night, left
me there, saying that he would call in later. When I went into
my father's room I was surprised to find him sitting propped up
in bed. He had just had his breakfast, and was apparently very
cheerful, though evidently a good deal excited by seeing me. He
asked me first of all what had brought me. I told him that I had
heard that he was ill, and had hurried off. 'Well, dear,' he
replied, ' you see that I am all right. I am soon down (as you
see), and soon up again. And now you will have to go back
again to your children, as they will want you at home.' He then
began to ask all sorts of questions about them, especially about
Philip in America, a great favourite of his grandfather's, and my
soldier son Percival, who had just started for Malta with his
1 Tuesday, September 12.

548 LAST DAYS WITH HIS DAUGHTER.
regiment, expecting to be sent on to Egypt. He picked up the
thread of all we had talked about last, when my children and I
bade him farewell two months before at Oxford, just before he left
for Ascot. He had so wonderfully revived after a comfortable
night, his voice was so strong, his mind so clear, that I could not
bring myself to believe that he was seriously ill, and he evidently
had not the slightest idea that I had been sent for by the doctor.
We had quite a quiet half-hour alone before the latter returned.
To his question, ' Well, Dr. Pusey, how do you feel this morning ? '
which my father read on his lips, came the playful reply, with his
own bright smile, ' Is it not your business to tell me how I am,
rather than mine to tell you ? ' I slipped out of the room and
left the doctor with him. When he came out, he said that it was
a wonderful rally, but that he must not be allowed to talk too
much. So I kissed my father, and left him for a while ; I could
not realize but that he would rally from this attack, as he had done
from so many previous illnesses through which I had nursed him.
In the afternoon, however, he seemed to get decidedly weaker
and more drowsy.
I think the morning of Wednesday, September 13, must have
been the last rally, such as one often sees when the end is
nearing; he did not attempt to talk; Dr. Fagge did not think
well of him the second time he came. I was told that in the
moming he had tried to tell my father how weak he was; but
I don't think that my father had any idea that he was not going
to get over the attack. As the afternoon passed on and the
weakness seemed to increase, I telegraphed to my uncle, and
wrote to my son, telling him he had better come.
They persuaded me to go to bed that night, after my long
journey, and promised to call me if any change came on. I
was in his room by eight on Thursday morning, September 14,
and found that he had had a quiet night ; he lay sleeping quietly
most of the morning. In the afternoon Dr. King and my son
arrived from Oxford ; my father was perfectly conscious when they
came in, though drowsy and disinclined to talk. He welcomed
them both with his dear, bright smile, seemed so pleased to see
them, and held out his hand, which Dr. King kissed and then

1 882.] MRS. BRINE'S NARRATIVE. 549
knelt by his bedside. I thought my father would like to be alone
with him, and Jem and I left the room. When we returned, I
saw that my father was getting exhausted; I remember asking
Dr. King to say the Commendatory Prayer before he left; the
end seemed to be coming nearer, because he appeared to be losing
strength so fast. Uncle William arrived in the evening, and I felt
that he had not come too soon; but I persuaded him to get
a night's rest, as he was very tired ; my father seemed so glad to
see him, but did not speak.
That night I kept watch alone in his sick-room, the nurse
sleeping in the outer room in case I wanted her. There was
nothing to be done but to give him beef-tea with brandy every
two hours. He was perfectly conscious at intervals, always
knew me when I brought him his food, and invariably said,
'Thank you, Puss' — my pet name — by which I knew that he
knew me. He was very restless till about two o'clock, throw
ing off the bed-clothes, etc.; then he roused himself, asked
for another candle to be lit, as he said the room was dark,
told me to go off to bed, as I should be tired, and he did not
want anything more, and said, ' Good night, Puss.' I went into
the next room, and waited there till I heard him wandering
again and talking ; his voice was strong and clear, and I could
follow the thread of all his wanderings. He seemed to think he
was talking over with Dr. Liddon plans for the coming Term :
' Hebdomadal Council ' and all such familiar terms were constantly
on his lips, the rationalism of the day, etc. It was not delirium,
to my mind, simply his brain was hard at work on various
subjects ; all he said was perfectly sensible and coherent. Seeing
me cross the room, he said, ' Oh, Puss, you must not sit up, you
will be tired. I shall do very well.' So I kissed him, went into
the next room for a few minutes, and then crept back to my
post. Towards morning he was quieter, and then, as the room became
hot and close, and I knew that it was oppressing him, I went to
the nurse just at the break of a lovely autumn day with bright
sunshine, and, knowing my father's love of fresh air, asked if I
might open the window. She gave her consent, and the relief

550 MRS. BRINE'S NARRATIVE.
was instantaneous, the restlessness ceased at once, and then he
began to think that he was administering the Blessed Sacrament,
and his hands moved to different places along the bed, as though
they were the altar rails, with the words of administration as
distinct as possible. Then, after a pause, he seemed to think
that he was exercising the office of absolution, and the words
rang out strong and clear as he laid his hands on the bed, as it
were on the head of some one he thought was kneeling there —
' By the authority committed to me,' etc. Gradually he sank into
the sweetest sleep. And so Uncle William found him when he
came in at eight o'clock on Friday morning. The doctor told
us that he did not think that he would have lasted through the
night. He slept on for some time ; all that morning there were
intervals of consciousness.
Uncle William and I were standing by his bedside, when I
happened to take up the Prayer-book which was lying on the
table with his open Hebrew Bible when I arrived, and which he
had used from my earliest recollection. Grandmama had given
it to him when the one she gave him at Eton was almost worn
out; he never went anywhere without it; I said to Uncle
William, ' This must be yours now ; ' and he was looking at their
mother's writing on the title-page when my father, who was
apparently asleep, surprised us by opening his eyes, and, looking
at his brother with a sweet smile, said in a strong voice, ' The
dear old book.' I believe that all through that day he was far
more conscious than any one thought.
There were intervals of drowsiness and sleep, but when he
opened his eyes there never seemed to be any confusion. He did
not feel inclined to talk, and kept his eyes a good deal shut, and
probably was engaged in prayer; but when he did open them
there was an instantaneous recognition of Uncle William and
myself: over and over again the sweet, affectionate smile of
brotherly love to him ; over and over again the muttered, ' God
bless you, Puss,' on his lips to me.
I was very anxious, seeing that the end was drawing near,
that Uncle WiUiam should administer the Holy Communion to
him and us, and asked my uncle to speak to him, leaving him

1882.] THE SISTERS' FAREWELL. 55 1
with his brother. The answer given is correctly reported in the
Life : ' If I am to receive the Holy Communion, I must administer
it myself.' My uncle saw that he was too weak to be worried in
any way, and the subject was dropped.
At nine o'clock that evening four of the Sisters at the
convalescent hospital close by, who had been amongst
Dr. Pusey's oldest friends and helpers, came, by his
daughter's kind wish, to look once more on the living
face they loved. Two of them were amongst the earliest
Sisters at Park village, and had been his faithful co
workers for nearly forty years. ' Mrs. Brine was in close
attendance on her father,' one of the Sisters said. ' I
remember she moved in order kindly to allow us to
approach his bed. We knelt a few minutes, and then
went up and kissed his hand, from which she removed
the covering that we might do so. He seemed uncon
scious, and breathing with difficulty. Of course we were
in great grief, and when we had left him Mr. Pusey
followed us through the little parlour into the passage,
and, stooping down, said to us, " The victory will soon be
won ; the victory will soon be won." '
The doctor was much surprised (Mrs. Brine's letter continues)
when he came on Friday evening, and on Saturday morning,
to find him still with us. Uncle William and I were with him
all Friday night. We thought every hour that he was passing
away, and in the middle of the night his brother said the Com
mendatory Prayer, and some other prayers ; but Saturday morning
brought some sweet sleep. That moming lives in my memory
as one of the most intense peace and calm. There was nothing
to be done but to moisten his dear lips occasionally, and calmly
await the end.
Uncle William was sitting by his bedside most of the time.

552 LAST WORDS.
I spent the morning either kneeling by his side or leaning over
him, and holding his dear hand. It was about ten o'clock that
I heard the faint but distinct utterance, 'Thou Lord God of
Hosts,' as if he were conscious of a Presence we could not see.
Later on there came a sort of triumphant burst, with the words,
' My Lord, and my God.' It was not as it is given in the Life,
only, ' My God ' — any one could say that. He said the words
with an emphasis of victorious, assured faith, as if the vision
were revealed to him of the Master he had loved and served
so faithfully. One must have heard it to enter into what I
mean. Later on, about one o'clock, there came on his dear face a
tender, loving, human smile of contentment and rejoicing, and
then I felt sure that he was conscious of my mother's welcome to
him, and that she was waiting for him ' Auf Jenseits.' It was not
a look of adoration, but one of such human tenderness and love
as could only have belonged to her. I knew then that the end
was very near.
The Rev. T. T. Carter, Dr. Pusey's oldest surviving
friend, had been absent from Clewer, but, returning that
morning, and hearing of his illness, he came at once to
the Hermitage.
I found the door open (he said), and went in. His daughter
and his brother were kneeling by the bed, and I knelt down
beside them. A Sister was fanning him. I do not know how
long it was after I came until he passed away ; it might have been
half an hour.1
I cannot tell you when the last good-bye came (his daughter's
narrative continues). He scarcely spoke again. There seemed
1 There is a slight inaccuracy in the Life, from which it would appear that
Mr. Carter did not join the mourners until all was over. The above words
are from his lips. Also, as both Mrs. Brine and the Sisters at the Priory
Hospital informed the writer, no lady accompanied Dr. King and Mr. James
Brine from Oxford to the Hermitage or to the Priory.

i882.] DEATH. 553
to come an unearthly content into his mind. The meeting was at
hand — and he knew it. We could say to ourselves, ' Lord, now
lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for [his] eyes have seen
Thy Salvation.'
It has always been a comfort to me to remember that
my father was prayed for in his own cathedral, for the first
time after he had left us. Telegrams to the Dean and others,
telling of his departure, did not reach Oxford before the after
noon service, so the prayers of the Church were offered for
Edward Bouverie Pusey as his dear spirit was entering into its
blessed rest.
When the end came — so peacefully, just falling asleep, one
gentle sigh — and we had said our thanksgivings that all the sorrows
and sufferings of his life were over, and had crossed his dear hands
and given him a parting kiss, we went out on the terrace, outside
the window of the room, and stood there for a few minutes in
the cloudless beauty of that autumn afternoon, not a sound to
break the stillness save the passing bell of the chapel, our hearts
too full for words.
We could but gaze up into the cloudless sky and think of the
angels (to us invisible), who were bearing, as Dr. Liddon says,
the departed soul into the Presence Chamber of his Saviour and
his Judge. As long as life lasts, the solemnity of that moment
must come ever to mind, never to be forgotten.
Everything had to be arranged at once for the removal to
Oxford on Monday, on account of the intervening Sunday. Dr.
Acland arrived that evening, and left on Sunday morning. Uncle
WUHam and I had a quiet, peaceful Sunday. Mr. Frampton
administered the Holy Communion at eight o'clock by his dear
bedside. In the afternoon he was laid in the shell and borne to the
Priory Chapel, Mr. Frampton, in his surplice, going before, read
ing some prayers, I think, and we following. He was laid in the
chapel, facing the altar, the Sisters keeping their watches beside
him through the night and until he was taken away. There was
a celebration at eight on Monday. I turned back the pall, and he
lay with his face uncovered, looking to the altar, the morning sun

554 REST AT CHRIST CHURCH.
shining on it through the east window and lighting it up.1 At
two o'clock they came to bear him away. I thought it more
reverent that the forty miles to Oxford should be taken by
road. The cathedral bell began to toll about eight in the evening.
Soon after the canons met my father at Tom Gate, and escorted
him for the last time to the lodgings in ' the House ' — his home for
more than fifty years. He was laid in his old study, the picture
he loved so much at his feet, and rested there until Thursday,
September 21 (St. Matthew's Day), watched day and night by
¦ loving friends. The dear face was once more uncovered ; college
servants and all who wished to bid him farewell were allowed to
come freely into the room and see him in his last sleep.
When Dean Liddell came with Dr. Acland to see me about
cathedral arrangements, I said to the latter, ' You know how glad
I should be if the Dean would like to go with you into the next
room.' I knew how sensitive the Dean was, and saw that it was
an effort, but he went, and told Dr. Acland afterwards that he
would not have missed that last farewell for anything. ' The face
was so peaceful in its last sleep,' he said, ' and looked quite ten
years younger than when last I saw it.'
After the early morning service in the Cathedral on
Thursday, September 21, St. Matthew's Day, it was closed
until a quarter past twelve, that the last preparations might
be made to receive all that was mortal of its oldest and
most revered Canon. It was the middle of the Long
Vacation, but from far and near men and women gathered
for that burial. Every train arriving at Oxford during
the morning brought fresh accessions to the ranks of the
mourners, and fully an hour before the time announced
for the Cathedral doors to be opened many hundreds of
1 ' There was a most beautiful smile on his face,' one of the Sisters writes,
' and he looked as if he would speak. It was very touching to see Mr. Pusey
and Mrs. Brine stand and gaze at the beloved father's face, and they tenderly
kissed it.'

i882.] ' HONOURED IN HIS END.' 555
ladies and gentlemen were waiting in the quadrangle.
Early that morning the chief mourners in the old lodgings
looked their last on the beloved earthly countenance ;
and over the coffin, of unpolished oak, bearing a massive
brass cross, was laid a violet purple pall with a silver
cross on it bordered with gold. The clergy and laity
who were to take part in the procession had assembled,
so far as it could contain them, in the hall of Christ
Church. Before one o'clock the tenor bell of the Cathedral
began to toll, answered by mournful notes from many
belfries, and soon after a procession of choristers and
clergy passed through the crowd in the quadrangle to the
canonry in the south-west corner, and met the precious
remains as they were borne over its threshold. On the
way to the Cathedral, the present and former members
of the House, about thirty surpliced undergraduates and
graduates of Christ Church, walking three abreast, and
followed by the honorary canons, led the procession. The
choristers, lay-clerks, and chaplains followed them, immedi
ately preceding the coffin and singing, ' A few more years
shall roll.' The pall-bearers ¦ on the left were the Hon.
C. L. Wood,1 Mr. Gladstone, Dr. Acland,2 and Canon
Bright ; on the right, the Rev. ^Hon. C. Courtenay, Earl
of Glasgow, the Warden of Keble College,3 Archdeacon
Palmer, and Canon King.4 The chief mourners followed :
Dr. Pusey's brother, grandsons, son-in-law, and nephew,
Captain Pusey ; the Rev. H. Raymond Barker, Canon of
Gloucester, the brother-nephew of Mrs. Edward Pusey
(who at eighty came once more to the lodgings which, in
1 The present Viscount Halifax. 2 The present Sir Henry Acland, Bart.
3 The present Bishop of Rochester. * The present Bishop of Lincoln.

556 BURIAL.
early happy days had been to him as a home), and a few
more. And then came a great procession, reaching round
three sides of the quadrangle, though men walked five
and six abreast, led by the Pro-Vice-Chancellor and
senior Proctor, and the independent graduates of Christ
Church, after whom came members of the University out
side the House. Not a sound was heard but the tramp of
many footsteps, and tolling of bells breaking the rhythm
of the hymn. At the entrance to the Cathedral the
sacred burden was met by the Bishop of Oxford, Dean
Liddell, and Dr. Liddon, who intoned the opening
verses of the Burial Service as the coffin was carried up
the nave, past the open grave, and laid on trestles in
the centre of the church, under the lantern. Every spot
in the building was filled, and about three hundred of
those who had taken part in the procession had to remain
outside until the service was over. After the chanting of
the Psalm, and reading of the Lesson by Dean Liddell,
the coffin was borne to the grave, followed by Dr
Liddon, who said over it the last prayers and commenda
tion. ' The King of Love my Shepherd is ' was then sung,
and the Bishop pronounced the Benediction.
Close by the grave had knelt, all through the service,
Dr. Pusey's only surviving child ; now she rose, and cast
an offering of flowers upon the last resting-place of all that
was mortal of her father. The inscription on the coffin
was quickly hidden from view under the wealth of flowers
showered upon it.
On the white marble slab in the central aisle which
now covers the grave, between the inscriptions to his wife
and daughters written by himself, is the name of Edward

l882-l DR. PUSEYS WORK. 557
Bouverie Pusey, Lingua Hebraicce Professoris, with the
date of his death, and the words —
Benedicttjs Deus qui non amovit
Orationem meam et Misericordiam suam
a ME.

' I have simply been one who did with all his might
anything which his hand found to do,' are Dr. Pusey's
words in a letter written nine months before his death — his
own summing-up of his life's work. The story of it, though
feebly and imperfectly told, will not be in vain if it
cause some (without leisure for the great biography) to
realize that in his absolute singleness of aim, in the inten
tion with which every duty was performed, lay the root
of all which he accomplished. Like St. Paul, he counted
all things but loss that he might win Christ, and bring
others to the knowledge, as he said, in old age, ' that it is
a bliss beyond all bliss to love Jesus.'
The words of One greater than St. Paul were the
inspiration of his life : ' I come to do Thy will.' None
could know him well without feeling how wholly devoid
he was of the mixed motives which cause silver to become
dross, and wine water — works done nominally for God,
really for self, an image of gold upon feet of clay. His
Master's promise was to him fulfilled, ' If thine eye be
single, thy whole body shall be full of light.' Therefore
in disappointment he was blest ; not having his reward
here, save in passing gleams of the joy set before him. Like
David, he had set his affection to the house of his God,

558 THE SAINTS' REST.
preparing from early youth with all his might to repair
and build it up ; and to his country his appeal had ever
been, 'Who then is willing to consecrate his service this
day unto the Lord ? '
If it would be difficult to take a day's journey in
England without seeing some even outward token of the
revival in which Dr. Pusey had so large a share, his life was,
notwithstanding, one of more than common trial and of
wearing anxieties. Yet his own words, while still young,
' One may gradually cease to know what disappointment is,'
came true ; and, whether amid visible success, or unfulfilled
hopes, he stood firm as a rock, never quailing, never
changing, never ceasing to be the apostle of peace and
love, while earnestly contending for the faith once delivered
to the saints. And they who love him most think now
of the Mercy and Love that led him all his life long,
through the light affliction which is but for a moment —
granting him the request of his lips, crowning him with
the blessings of goodness, and the abundance of the
things which since the beginning of the world it hath not
entered into the heart of man to conceive — which eye hath
not seen nor ear heard —
Nel miro ed angelico templo
Che solo amore e luce ha per confine.

)an& m&o-

INDEX

Acland, Dr. (Sir Henry), 389, 477,
494. 504. SOS. 547, 554, 555
Adapted books, 229-232, 248, 249
Agitation against ritual, 436
Allies, Rev. T. W., pamphlet by, on
Gorham case, 350
Altars, stone, Sir H. J. Fust's decision
against, 298
American Church and the laity, 372
'Anglicanus' and the Athanasian
Creed, 472
Apostolic Succession in Church of
England, 332
Arabic Catalogue compiled by Dr.
Pusey, 63, 81, 83, 87
Arabic, etc., study of, necessary to real
knowledge of Hebrew, 30
Ascot Priory, visits to, 457, 466, 499-
502, 512, 520, 523, 530, 545
Ashley, Lord, n. (See Shaftesbury.)
Athanasian Creed, battle for the, 470-
473 ; Archbishop Tait gives way
on, 471, 473; second combat on,
472 ; meeting in Exeter Hall in
defence of, 477 ; Irish battle on,
489-492
Athanasius', St., Orations, republi
cation of, 482-484
Attitude of Manning and Pusey con
trasted, 291
Avrillon's 'Guide to Lent,' 366

Bagot, Bishop, Charge of, 131 ;
action as to Tract xc, 174-177
Baptism, Holy, 82 ; Dr. Pusey's three
Tracts on, 87
Barker, Maria Catharine Raymond,
first meets Dr. Pusey, n ; engaged,

38; married, 57. (See Pusey,
Mrs.)
Beckett, Rev. F., at St. Saviour's,
356
Bellasis, Serjeant, 290
Bennett, Rev. W. J. E., judgment in
case of, 459, 460
Berlin, visits to, 28, 30
Bickersteth, Rev. E., on 'Library of
the Fathers,' 106
Bishop of London's Fund, Dr. Pu
sey's contributions to, 92, 99, 115,
157
Bishops, their Charges as to Tract xc,
192 ; and ' Papal aggression,' 357,
486
Boddington, Miss, on Dr. Pusey's
first sermon, 57
Bonn, visit to, 33, 34
Bouveries, the, 2 ; at Liege and
Bruges, 3 ; Laurence, ancestor of
English branch, 4
Bowden, J. W., 141, 254, 282
Brechin, Bishop of. (See Forbes.)
Breviary, proposed translation of,
229, 230; use -of, in the Sisters'
Home, 276 ; at St. Saviour's, 320
Bright, Dr., 460, 468
Brine, Katharine, death of, 507
Brine, Mrs. (See Pusey, Mary), 389,
466, 467, 469, 470, 504, 505, 514
note, 524, 528, 535, 547-556. (See
Letters.)
Bristol Times, The, onE. B. P.'s ser
mon at Horfield, 314-316
British Critic, The, violent articles in,
183
Brougham, Lord, as to Final Appeal
Court, 533
Bruce, Mary, 269

56o

INDEX.

Buck, M. de, efforts towards reunion,
452
Bull, Pope's, of 1850, 356

Canterbury, Archbishop of, (How
ley) on Dr. Pusey's pamphlet on
cathedrals, 71 ; recommendations
for Professorship of Divinity, 101 ;
on Tract xc, 175; (Longley), 404
note ; lays first stone of Keble Col
lege, 442 ; (Tait) position of, on
the Athanasian Creed, 471-473;
on confession, 508
Carter, Rev. T. T., prepares declara
tion on confession, 480, 487 ; 552.
(See Letters.)
Cathedrals, pamphlet on, 70, 7 1
Cholera, Dr. Pusey working in East
London during, 435
Christ Church, St. Pancras, character
of Lenten services in, 264
Christ Church, Oxford, appointments
to canonries at, Dr. Pusey, 60 ; Dr.
Jelf, 66; Dr. Bright, 460; Dr.
King, 461 ; Dr. Mozley, ib.
Christian Observer, Tlie, attacks Dr.
Pusey, 119
'Christian Year, The,' 465
Church building and sustentation, Dr.
Pusey on, 1 10
Church Clerical Aid Society, 1 1 1
Church, Dean, 201, 260-262
Church life in England in 1823,
21
Churton, Archdeacon, on Treatise on
the Holy Eucharist, 388 ; on the
' Eirenicon,' 420
Cleaver, Rev. W., 186, 199
Clerical teaching, Dr. T. Sikes on,
76
Coleridge, Judge, signs address to
Dr. Wynter, 214, 365 ; on Treatise
on Holy Eucharist, 388
Coleridge, Mrs., visit to, 57
Commentary on the Bible, Patristic
and Catholic, proposed, 332 ; on
Minor Prophets, 333, 390, 402,
409, 412, 416, 424, 457, 466, 478-
481 ; on the Psalms, 500
Commentary for Children, fragments
on St. Matthew, by Mrs. Pusey,
"5. 13°

Condemned sermon, the, 201-224
Conference at Hadleigh, 78
Confession and absolution, Mr. Glad
stone on, 247, 308, 309, 359-
361, 507 ; principle attacked, 341 ;
right of English clergy to hear, 352,
362; petition to Convocation for
licence, 479 ; declaration on, 480 ;
Archbishop Tait and Lambeth
Conference on, 508 ; form of ab
solution removed from new Irish
Prayer-book, 508
Convalescent Hospital, Ascot Priory,
499
Convocation, memorable meeting of,
261 ; Mr. Ward's ' Ideal of a Chris
tian Church ' condemned, and him
self degraded by, 261
Copeland, Rev. W. J., at Littlemore,
254
Copleston, Dr., appointed Bishop of
Llandaff, 40
Coutances, Bishop of, 420
Crawley, Rev. George, suspended,
341

Daniel, Lectures on the Book of,
406 ; their publication and influ
ence, 407
Declaration touching Royal Supre
macy in Matters Ecclesiastical,
353 ; reaffirming doctrine attacked
by Essayists, 404
Denison, Archdeacon, prosecution of,
386, 387
Discipline, want of, in English
Church, 336
Ditcher, Rev. J., 386
Doctrine of the Eucharist uncon
sciously held, 121
Dodsworth, Rev. W., 269-277, 302,
35i» 352> 355- OS* Letters.)
Douglas, Sir James, Lieut.-Col.,
Governor of Guernsey, 117
Driver, Dr., 497
Dublin, Archdeacon of (Dr. Lee),
appeals to Dr. Pusey on new Irish
Prayer-book, .490 ; offer of Drs.
Pusey and Liddon to, 491
Dupanloup, Bishop, 423 ; joins in
efforts towards reunion, 446

INDEX.

56l

Eastbourne, visit to, 341
Eastern Church and the Filioque,
497
Eastward position, Dr. Pusey con
tends for, 487
Ecclesiastical Courts, Dr. Pusey on,
533
Education, professorial and collegi
ate, 373
Eichhorn, Professor, 27
' Eirenicon,' the First, 410-412 ; pub
lication of, 419, 423 ; Newman's
reply to, 421, 437
' Eirenicon,' the Second, 449, 450
' Eirenicon,' the Third, 452, 453
Ellacombe, Jane, 269
Ellicott, Bishop, and the First
' Eirenicon,' 420
Elliott, Rev. H. Venn, 157
Endowments, University Professorial,
Dr. Pusey on increase of, 397-
401
England and Rome, neutrality be
tween, 332
English Church Union, Dr. Pusey
joins the, 436 ; speeches at meet
ings of, 437, 487 ; encouragement
and advice to, 533
' Essays and Reviews,' publication of,
399 ; appeal to Dr. Pusey, 403
Essays' of Rev. J. Keble, reprint of,
497
Eucharist, Holy (see Condemned ser
mon) ; Tract No. lxxxi., on, 120 ;
Dr. Pusey's belief, 205 ; second ser
mon on, 375 ; treatise on, 388 ;
University sermon on, 440
Eucharistic vestments, Dr. Pusey con
tends for, 487
' Evidence of Professorial Lectures in
Theology,' 373
Ewald, Professor, 33
Exeter, Bishop of, 247, 248 ; refuses
to institute Mr. Gorham, 344-351 ;
cordiality to Dr. Pusey, 357, 388

Farrar, Dr., willing to substitute
conception of ' future purification '
for ' new probation,' 529
Fasting, Tract No. xviii., on, 81
Faussett, Dr., and the condemned
sermon, 203

Filioque, the, pamphlet on, 495, 497
Final Court of Appeal, pamphlet on,
408, 409
'First Three,' last meeting of the,
414
Forbes, Rev. A. P., Vicar of St.
Saviour's, 322 ; becomes Bishop of
Brechin, 340 ; Charge of, attacked
and censured by Synod, 391 ;
Keble's and Pusey's anxiety for,
392 ; Scotch Bishops' judgment,
393, 420; his book on Thirty-nine
Articles, 440; at Rome, seeks to
promote reunion, 444, 452 ; death
of, 494. (See Letters.)
Foreign ecclesiastics and the Church
of England, 451
Franco-Prussian War, 461
' Free and Open Church ' conference
at Norwich, 418
Freytag, Professor, 33, 37
Froude, James Anthony, his 'Tract
No. xc, and its Consequences'
cited, 199
Fust, Sir H. J., decision of, against
stone altars, 298 ; in Gorham case,
345

' German Theology, Rationalist
Character of,' Dr. Pusey's first
book, 45-48
Germany, visits to, 27, 30
Gibbs, Mr., donor of Keble College
Chapel, 495
Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E., visits
Dr. Pusey, 67 ; on Jerusalem
bishopric, 190 ; signs address to
Vice-Chancellor Wynter, 214. (See
Letters.)
Gobat, Dr., 310
Gorham case, the, 344 ; Gorham, Rev.
G. C, appointed Vicar of Bramp
ford Speke, 344 ; Bishop Phillpotts
refuses to institute, ib. ; Mr. Gor
ham appeals, 345 ; decision of
Court of Arches, ib. ; appeal to
the Judicial Committee, ib. ;
restlessness in consequence of de
cision in, 348 ; judgment of Privy
Council, 349 ; Bishop Phillpotts'
' historical' letter, 349 ; ordering of
the battle, 350 ; standard-bearers
2 O

562

INDEX.

fainting, 350 ; Dr. Pusey's ' Royal
Supremacy,' 350
Green, Rev. S. F., imprisonment of,
532, 546
Grove Church consecrated, 69
Guernsey, visit to, 116-11S
Guillemard, Mr., 260, 262

Hadleigh Conference, the, 78
Hampden, Dr., appointed Professor
of Divinity, 100 ; his Bampton
Lectures, ib. ; action of Convo
cation on appointment of, 102 ;
Bampton Lectures virtually con
demned, 177 ; appointed Bishop
of Hereford, 335 ; projected suit
against, ib.
Hampshire, tour in, 72
Harrison, Rev. B., assistant Hebrew
lecturer, appointed Archbishop's
chaplain, 131
Hawkins, Dr., elected Provost of
Oriel, 41, 211, 212, 428
Hayling Island, visits to, 333, 334,
337-339
Heathcote, Rt. Hon. Sir William,
4i7» 443. 456. 535
Hebdomadal Council, on Tract xc,
171, 372, 376, 508
Heber, Bishop, 418
Herbert, Hon. Edward, 342
Herbert, Lady Emily, marriage to
Mr. Pusey, 16. (See Pusey, Lady
Emily.)
Hook, Rev. Dr., teaches principles of
Tracts, 120 ; votes against Ward's
degradation, 258 ; forebodings as
to St. Saviour's, 297, 301, '304;
318-320,340,341. (Ae Letters.)
Hope, Beresford, his circular as to
ritual, 498
Hughes, Miss Marion, reminiscences
of Hayling Island, 334
Ilfracombe, Long Vacation spent
at, 246
Intellectual temptations, on, 374
Intercession of saints, 248, 249, 2S7,
449
Ireland, visit to, 183-187
Irish Prayer-book, the new, 489-493,
508

Isaiah Iiii., Jewish interpretations of,
494, 497

Jelf, Rev. R. W., visit to Wales
with E. B. P., 12, 15; tutor to
Prince George of Cumberland, 31 j
Canon of Christ Church, 66 ; on
the condemned sermon, 205-209,
309 ; death of, 467
Jerusalem Bishopric, 189, 190, jto
Jeune, Dr., 377
Jowett, Professor, 397-401
Justification, on, 96

Keble, Rev. J., 15; declines to
contest Provostship of Oriel, 41 ;
preaches Assize Sermon in Oxford,
77, 79 ; on Bishop Bagot's Charge,
•33i '381 226; on the Breviary,
230, 287, 352; remonstrates with
Bishop Wilberforce, 362-366, 414 :
on Eucharistical adoration, 389 ;
death of, 429-432. (See Letters.)
Keble College, projected, 432 ; lay
ing first stone of, 442 ; constitu
tion of, 443 ; opened, 455-457 ;
Dr. Pusey's speech at opening of,
462, 495
Kerr, Lord Henry, 343
King, Rev. Edward (afterwards Bp.
of Lincoln), 461, 555
Knott, Rev. J. W., 390

Lagrange, M. Fr., 425
Laity, admission to Synods, 370-372
Langston, Miss, 270
Law, Dean, 8
Letters, and Extracts from : —
Acland, A. H. Dyke, to E. B. P.,
3°3
 , Sir Thomas, to E. B. l'„ 215
Anon, to E. B. P., 25, 33, 87
Bagot, Dr. (Bp. of Oxford), to
E. B. P., 132, 160, 174, 175. 19*
Bickersteth, Rev. E., to E. B. P., 106
Blomfield, Bp., to E. B. P., 157
Bright, Dr., to Rev. J. II. Newman,
468

INDEX.

563

Letters (continued) : —
Brine, Mrs. (See Pusey, Mary Amelia),
152, 182, 187, 246, 329, 389, 390,
466, 470, 493, 504, 526-528, 535
 ,  , to Rev. James Skinner,
524
Church, Rev. R. W. (Dean), 486
Churton, Archdeacon, to E. B. P., 420
Cleaver, Rev. W., to E. B. P., 186, 187
Coleridge, Judge, to Vice-Chancellor
(Dr. Wynter), 215
Davison, Rev. John, to E. B. P., 70
Dodsworth, Rev. W., to E. B. P.,
273-275. 277
Forbes, Bp., to M. de Buck, 454
Froude, Hurrell, to the Rev. Hon. A.
Perceval, 78
Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E., to
E. B. P., 217, 258, 330
Hamilton, Eev. W. K. (afterwards
Bp. of Salisbury), to Rev. B.
Harrison, 86
Hansard, Rev. S., to Rev. H. P.
Liddon, 435
Hawkins, Dr., to E. B. P., 86
 ,  . to Vice-Chancellor (Dr.
Wynter), 211
Heathcote, Rt. Hon. Sir W., to
E. B. P., 443
Hook, Dr., to E. B. P., 319
Howley, Archbishop, to E. B. P., 71
Hughes, Miss, 334
Jelf, Dr.,toE. B. P., 99
Keble, Rev. J., to E. B. P., 138, 173,
177. 185, 190, 226, 230, 232, 253,
266, 276, 289, 306, 332, 336, 341,
352, 362, 365, 429
 , to Wilberforce, Bp., 362,
363
Liddon, Rev. H. P., to Rev. J. H.
Newman, 469
Liebenrood, G. E., to E. B. P., 20
Luxmoore, Rev. J. H. M., to E. B. P.,
21
Maltby, Bp. of Durham, to E. B. P.,
71
Mill, Professor, 217
Minster, Rev. T., to E. B. P., 340
Mozley, Rev. J. B., 'Letters' cited,
107, 158, 187, 191, 214, 261, 304,
3°9
Neave, Mr., Sheffield, to E. B. P., 20
Newman, Rev. J. H., 48, 150, 180,
282, 435

Letters (continued) : —
Newman, Rev. J. H., to Bp. Bagot,
174. 175 ' ,
 ,  , to J. W. Bowden, 158, 160
 .  , to Sir J. T. Coleridge, 414
 ,  , to E. B. P., 89, 109, 127,
143, 144, 157, 176. 184, 194. 196,
197, 220, 223, 227, 230, 232, 236,
247, 259, 260, 282, 285, 288, 293,
294. 372, 412, 422, 433, 441, 442,
444, 447, 478. 481-483. 507. 5'7,
520
Paget, Sir James, to E. B. P., 510
Parker, Rev. John, to E. B. P., 91
Phillpotts, Bp., to E. B. P., 348,
351. 357
Prevost, Rev. Sir G., to E. B. P., 178
Pritchard, Rev. C, to E. B. P., 511
E. B. Pusey, 18, 24, 26, 31, 34, 35,
46, 47, 82, 106, 305, 311, 330, 347,
359. 360, 377. 419, 428, 431. 486,
489. 493. 494. 497, 5°°, 5°2. 5M.
5i6, 534-538
 ,  , to Canon Ashwell, 521
 ,  , to Bishop Bagot, 177, 199,
223
 ,  , to Father Belany, 519
 ,  , to a Bishop, 531
 ,  , to a French Bishop, 426
 ,  , to Miss Barker, 12, 39,
42-45, 49-56. (See Pusey, Mrs.)
 ,  , to Mrs. Brine, 149
 ,  , to Rev. T. T. Carter,
484-487, 499
 ,  , to Archdeacon Dodgson,
150
 ,  , to Rev. H. Venn Elliott,
157
 ,  , to W. E. Gladstone, 310,
331, 371, 460
 ,  , to Rev. B. Harrison, 145,
292
 ,  , to Rev. Prebendary Hen
derson, 254
 ,  , to Dr. Hook, 120, 255,
259, 261, 283, 313, 320
 ,  , to Archbishop Howley,
190
 ,  , to Miss Hughes, 270
 ,  , to Rev. J. Keble, 42, 105,
no, 121, 131, 134, 137, 140-142,
148, 155, 162, 165, 172, 173, 185,
188, 198, 203, 216, 219, 226, 231,
234. 235, 255. 257, 268, 269, 271,

564

INDEX.

Letters (continued) : —
E. B. Pusey, to Rev. J. Keble
(continued) : —
278, 283, 286, 287, 289, 296, 298,
299. 3°3. 3°7. 3°9, 3«°. 321, 323.
324. 33L 337. 353. 355. 356. 371,
375. 376. 379, 39°. 392, 398. 399.
402-404, 408, 409, 418, 420, 423
 ,  , to Archdeacon Lee, 490
 ,  , to Rev. H. P. Liddon,
523
 ,  , to Rev. A. H. Macko
nochie, 498
 ,  , to Archdeacon Manning,
291. 345
 ,  , to Rev. Charles Marriott,
335
 ,  , to Rev. J. H. Newman,
17. 31. 32, 37. 80-82, 88, 101, 102,
104, 117, 126, 127, 130, 132, 134-
136, 140-144, 154-156. 158, 165-
167, 183, 188, 193-195, 213, 216,
222, 228, 234, 247, 248, 251, 254,
256, 259, 266, 267, 312, 313, 406,
411, 412, 418, 421, 422, 430, 432,
433. 438. 439. 441-443. 446, 448,
450, 451, 454, 455, 459. 467. 4^9.
476-478, 481-483, 494, 496, 510,
517, 518, 526, 529
 ,  , to Rev. Hon. A. Perceval,
111, 169, 181
 ,  , to Lucy and Mary Pusey,
146, 148
 ,  . to Mrs. Pusey (See Miss
Barker), 60, 68, 83, 84, 93-98,
m-115, 123-129, 151
 ,  , to his son, Philip Edward,
107, 238, 301, 356, 378, 379, 405,
416, 423, 424, 457, 466, 473-476.
479, 481, 488, 495, 505, 507, 512
 ,  , to his brother, Rev.
W. B. Pusey, 153, 228, 415
 ,  , to Rev. E. T. Richards,
325
 ,  , to Miss Rogers, 145, 149,
152, 204, 210
 ,  , to Rev. H. J. Rose, 64
 ,  , to Rev. R. Salwey, 30
 ,  , to Lord Shaftesbury, 405,
512
 ,  , to Bishop Skinner, 371
 ,  , to Rev. J. Skinner, 91,
448, 449, 520, 523, 528
 ,  , to Archbishop Trench, 489

Letters (continued) : —
E. B. Pusey, to Professor Vaughan,
374
 ,  , to Bishop Wilberforce,
358, 363. 364. 366, 471. 472
 ,  , to Bishop Wordsworth,
512
 ,  , to Dr. Wynter, Vice-
Chancellor, '2 10, 212, 221
 ,  , to Editor of English
Churchman, 294
 ,  ,  Guardian, 491
 ,  , to members of English
Church Union, 540
 ,  , to Editor of Morning
Herald, 332
 ,  ,  Times, 400, 430, 465
Pusey, Hon. Philip, to E. B. P., 29
Pusey, Lady Lucy, to E. B. P., 14,
29, 108
 ,  , to Lady Emily Pusey, 312
 ,  , to Philip Edward Pusey,
169, 183
 ,  , to Mrs. Pusey, 136
 ,  , to Rev. J. H. Newman,
161
 ,  , to Rev. William Pusey, 10
Pusey, Philip Edward, to Rev. J. H.
Newman, 468
Richards, Mr., 385
Richards, Mrs., to Rev. E. T.
Richards, 264
Shaftesbury, Lord, to E. B. P., 404
Short, Rev. T. Vowler, to E. B. P.,
92
Skinner, Rev. James, 520
Terrot, Miss, 270
Trench, Archbishop, 490
 ,  , to E. B. P., 492
Tyler, Rev. J. E., to E. B. P., 20
Ward, Rev. W. Perceval, to E. B. P.,
161
Wilberforce, Bishop, to E. B. P., 398
Wootton, Dr., to E. B. P., 117
Wynter, Dr., Vice-Chancellor, to
E. B. P., 221, 222
' Library of the Fathers,' 103-106, 482
Liddell, Dean, 505, 525, 527, 554
Liddon, Dr., 16, 47, 201, 202, 206,
292 ; on Dr. Pusey's first sermon
after suspension, 307, 308 ; 357 ; at
Hursley, 431, 432 ; 461, 471, 509,
522

INDEX.

565

Littlemore Church, consecrated, 104 ;
227
Lloyd, Dr. (Regius Professor of
Divinity, afterwards Bishop of Ox
ford), 18, 27, 37, 46, 54, 61, 65
Lockhart, Father, 220, 421
London Church Union, 350; speech
at, 354
Longley, Dr. (Bishop of Ripon, after
wards Archbishop of Canterbury),
298, 299, 301, 302, 404
Luxmoore, Rev. J. H. M., 21, 48

Macmullen, Rev. R. G., 318, 321
Maltby, Dr. (afterwards Bishop of
Chichester, and of Durham), 10
Malvern, visits to, 389, 479, 481,
482, 488, 493, 495, 496
Manners, Lord John (now Duke of
Rutland), 237, 266, 269, 273
Manning, Archdeacon (afterwards
Cardinal), 291, 353, 410, 450
Marriott, Rev. Charles, 338, 380
Martin v. Mackonochie, case of, 448
' Martyrs' Memorial,' the, 138, 139
Maskell, Rev. W., pamphlet by, 350
Maurice, Rev. F. D., 89
Minor Prophets. (See Commentary.)
Minster, Rev. T., at St. Saviour's,
Leeds, 340, 355
Missionary projects, 128
Moberly, Rev. G. (afterwards Bishop
of Salisbury), 86
Morning Herald, The, 332
Mozley, Mrs. John, 476
Mozley, Rev. J. B., 107, 461. (51k
Letters. )
Mozley, Rev. T., on Oriel College, 18

Napier, Hon. Georgina, 280, 499
Neave, Mr. Sheffield, 15, 16, 20
Neubauer, Professor, 497
Newman, Rev. J. H., 17, 31, 48,
56, 57, 66, 67, 69, 77; induces
Dr. Pusey to join Tractarians, 78-
80, 87, 101-107, no, 113, 115,
I3I-I35. 142-145. I5°> !58, 161,
164-177, 179, 180, 182-184, 189-
198, 220 ; resigns St. Mary's, 225,
226-228, 232-236, 247-254, 258,
260 ; secession of, 281-296, 314,
372, 410-415. 421. 422, 433-435.

437. 440, 444. 447. 452, 465, 468,
469, 476, 481-484, 496; Cardinal,
517-520, 529. (See Letters.)
Nightingale, Miss, 279
Norwich Church Congress, 418

Oakeley, Rev. F., 183, 229, 252,
253, 262
Old Catholics, 496, 497
Oriel College, 17-21, 31, 40, 41
Ornaments rubric, 119
Owen, Professor, 511

Paget, Rev. F., 509
Paget, Sir James, 473, 510
Palmer, Rev. W. (afterwards Sir W.
Palmer), 353, 354, 368
Palmer, Sir Roundell (afterwards
Lord Selborne), 219
Palmerston, Lord, 398
' Papal aggression,' 356
Paris, Archbishop of (Mgr. Darboy),
420, 423, 485
Parker, Rev. John, 12, 91
Phillimore, Dr., 459
Phillips, Ambrose, 273
Plunket, Archbishop, 311
Poetry Professorship, election to,
190, 191
i Pollen, Rev. J. H., inhibited, 341
I Porter, Rev. G., 15
| Pott, Professor, 28
I Prayer-book, 418 ; new Irish, 489 ;
American, 508
Prevost, Rev. Sir G., 178, 217
Pntchard, Rev. C, 510, 511
Privy Council, jurisdiction of, 345-
347. 533
Public Worship Act, 484-498
Pusey, Edward Bouverie (See
Letters), birth, baptism, and pa
rentage, 1-5; qualities derived from
ancestors, 6 ; influence of his
mother, ib. ; at Mitcham School, 7
goes to Eton, 8; his contempora
lies at Eton, 8, 9 ; life at Eton, ii.
Confirmation, 10 ; at Buckden, ib.
first acquaintance with Miss Barker,
1 1 ; enters Christ Church, Oxford
ib. ; Oxford friends, 12 ; attach
ment to Miss Barker discouraged

566

INDEX

13 ; depression, ib. ; gives up hunt
ing and riding, 15 ; first class in
Schools, ib. ; Swiss tour, ib. ;
' Byronism,' 16 ; his brother
Philip's marriage, ib. ; Oriel, 1 7 ;
Fellowship examination, ib.; elected
Fellow, ib. ; Oriel common room,
18 ; Dr. Lloyd's lectures, ib. ; stag-
hunting in Devonshire, 20 ; gains
Latin Essay prize, 21 ; correspond
ence with a sceptic, 24-26 ; first
visit to Germany, and at Gottingen
attends lectures of Eichhorn, 27 ;
of Pott, 28 ; visits Berlin, ib. ;
Schleiermacher, Neander, Heng
stenberg, Tholuck, ib. ; returns to
England, 29 ; change of purpose
consequent on German visit, 29,
30 ; second visit to Germany, ib. ;
at Berlin, ib. ; devotes himself to
study of Arabic, etc, ib. ; visits
Schonhausen, 31 ; excessive study
at Greifswald, under Professor Kose
garten, ib. ; refuses Tutorship at
Oriel, ib. ; at Bonn with Professor
Freytag, 33 ; ' pastoral ' work at
Bonn, 33-36 ; death of youngest
brother, 37 ; return to England,
and engagement to Miss Barker,
38 ; ill health, and stay at Brighton,
39; 'The Christian Year,' 40;
Oriel Provostship election, 40-42 ;
letters to Miss Barker, ib., 43 ;
determination to revise Old Testa
ment abandoned, 44 ; writes his
first book, ' Rationalist Character
of German Theology,' 45 ; contro
versy with Mr. Rose on German
theology, 46 ; rejoins his family in
London, 48 ; death of his father,
49 ; ordained Deacon, 54 ; mar
riage, 57 ; wedding tour, ib. ;
first sermon, ib. ; return to Ox
ford, 59 ; appointed to Hebrew
Professorship, 60 ; ordained Priest,
61 ; Canon of Christ Church, ib. ;
first celebration of Holy Commu
nion, ib. ; first Hebrew lecture,
62; compiles Arabic Catalogue at
the Bodleian, 63 ; charged with
favouring Rationalism, 64; death
of Bishop Lloyd, 65 ; birth of his
daughter Lucy, and of his son, ib. ;
home life, 66 ; serious illness, 67 ;

birth of second daughter, ib. ;
preaches at consecration of Grove
Church, 69 ; pamphlet on ' Cathe
dral Institutions,' 70 ; first Uni
versity sermon, 71; death of infant
daughter, Catherine, ib. ; relation
to the Oxford Movement, 77-79 ;
first tract ' On Fasting,' 80, 81 ;
Salisbury Infirmary sermon, ib. ;
illness and weakness, 82 ; at
Ventnor, ib. ; goes to Ramsgate,
83 ; at installation of Duke of
Wellington, 84 ; defence of under
graduates' Subscription, ib. ; three
great Tracts on Baptism, 87-91 ;
founds Theological Society, 93 ;
contributes ^5000 to Bishop of
London's Fund, 99 ; resents and
protests against Dr. Hampden's
appointment, 100-102 ; recom
mended for Regius Professorship
of Divinity, 101 ; ' Library of the
Fathers,' 103-106; hospitality, 107;
preaching and writing, 109, no:
visits Guernsey, 116; brings out
Tract No. lxxxi., on the Holy
Eucharist, 120; his children's re
ligious training, 122-124; con
tinued illness of Mrs. Pusey, 125-
127 ; visits to Weymouth, 127-
130 ; correspondence on Tracts
with Bishop Bagot, 131-134 ; re
turn to Oxford, Mrs. Pusey hope
lessly ill, 135 ; proposed ' Martyrs'
Memorial,' 138, 139 ; death of Mrs.
Pusey, 141-146; effects of her death
on, 149-152 ; accident at Arundel,
152 ; popularity at Exeter and
Brighton, 158 ; desire to build and
endow a mission church and restore
religious communities, 162-166 ;
retirement from society, 167 ; con
fers with Bishop Bagot on Tract No.
xc, 175-177 ; visit to Ireland, 183-
188 ; visits Archbishop of Canter
bury, 188 ; on Jerusalem Bishop
ric and Poetry Professorship, 189-
191 ; visits Margate, 195 ; corre
spondence with Newman on his
retractation, 196-198 ; sermon at
St. Mary's, May 14, 1843, 202 ;
delation of sermon, 203 ; Court of
Six Doctors, 205 ; condemned
without a hearing, 206 ; suspended

INDEX.

567

from preaching in the University,
209 ; protest, ib. ; remonstrances
to Vice-Chancellor, 214, 215 ;
publication of sermon, 216 ; visits
Dover, 220 ; requests a fair trial,
and is refused, 223 ; anxiety about
Newman, 226-228 ; illness and
death of his daughter Lucy, 233-
245 ; visit to Ilfracombe, 246-248 ;
anxiety for Mr. Oakeley, 252, 253 ;
and as to proceedings against Rev.
W. G. Ward, 255 ; condemns reck
less persecution of Newman, 259 ;
chivalry, 263 ; foundation and open
ing of first Anglican Sisterhood,
266-280; veneration for and estimate
of Newman, 282-284 > anxieties for
Newman, 286-290 ; attitude to
wards Roman Communion, 291-
293 ; on Newman's secession, 294-
296 ; anxieties as to St. Saviour's,
Leeds, 297-301 ; goes to Leeds,
301 ; consecration of St. Saviour's,
302-304 ; preaches first Uni
versity sermon after suspension :
' The Power of the Keys,' 307-
310 ; distress concerning Jerusalem
Bishopric, ib. ; seriously ill at
Tenby, 311, 313 ; preaches at Hor-
field Church, 314-316; sorrows
connected with St. Saviour's, 317—
324 ; insulting letters and coldness
of friends, 328, 329 ; misunder
stood as to attitude towards Rome,
33°. 331 > position clearly de
fined, 332 ; proposed Patristic and
Catholic Commentary on the Bible,
332, 333 J at Hayling Island, 333-
335. 337. 3385. trouble on Dr.
Hampden's appointment, 335, 336 ;
defends services at Sisterhood, 336,
337 ; love of nature and the sea,
339 ; fondness for Scott's poetry,
ib. ; trouble at St. Saviour's, 340 ;
visits to Eastbourne, 341 ; and to
Asherne, 342 ; on decision of
Privy Council in Gorham case,
345 ; on the State and matters of
faith, 347 ; Gorham judgment en
tails additional labour, 350 ; book
by, on the Royal Supremacy, ib. ;
leads the fight, 352 ; elected mem
ber of Bristol Church Union, 353 ;
preaches in St. Barnabas', Pimlico,

355 ; visit to St. Saviour's, 356 ;
attacked by Bishop Wilberforce,
and inhibited, 358 ; on confession,
359 ; is refused interview by Bishop
Wilberforce, 361 ; not responsible
for secessions, 363 ; offers to pay
expenses of prosecution, ib. ; on
Bishop Wilberforce's inhibition,
364 ; declines Mr. Gladstone's sug
gestion of compromise, 366 ; in
hibition removed, 367 ; at Pusey
House, 369, 370 ; on admitting
laity to Synods, 371 ; on German
Universities and their system, 373 ;
University sermon on Holy Euchar
ist. 375 > elected to Hebdomadal
Council, 376 ; with Lady Emily
Pusey and his brother in last illness
and death, 378 ; on Rev. Charles
Marriott, 380 ; unbounded hospi
tality, 381 ; visits from old friends,
382 ; kindness to the young, and
love of children, 382-385 ; on belief
in the Real Presence, 389, 392 ;
serious illness, 389 ; visit to Mal
vern, ib. ; and to Paris, 390 ; an
xiety during Bishop Forbes' trial,
391-393 ; his mother's death, 394 ;
battle against infidelity, 396 ; plan
of University Professorial endow
ment, 397, 400 ; considers Jowett
unfairly treated, 400 ; chosen by
High and Low as leader in fight
against Rationalism, 403 ; pub
lishes 'Lectures on the Book of
Daniel,' 406 ; pamphlet on Final
Court of Appeal, 408, 409 ; col
lapse from overstrain, 409 ; goes
to Ascot Hermitage, ib. ; meets
Newman at Hursley, 414-416 ;
visit to Rownhams, and last visit
to Keble, 416, 417 ; at Norwich
Church Congress, ib., 418 ; publi
cation of 'Eirenicon,' 419 ; journey
to France, ib., $20 ; return to
England, 419 ; reception of ' Eire
nicon,' 421-423 ; French bishops,
423 ; spends Christmas at Mar
seilles, 424 ; grief at Keble's death,
430, 431 ; at Hursley for funeral,
432 ; works in East London during
outbreak of cholera, 435 ; view of
ritual on joining English Church
Union, 436 ; reply (the Second

568

INDEX.

' Eirenicon ') to Newman's answer
to the ' Eirenicon,' 437 ; purification
in another life, 439 ; reaffirms
doctrine of the Holy Eucharist,
440 ; assists Bishop Forbes with
his book on the Thirty-nine Ar
ticles, ib. ; on the Vatican Council,
441, 455 ; foundation of Keble
College, 442 ; continued efforts for
reunion, 443-448 ; advice on ritual,
448 ; on intercession of St. Mary,
449; urges Lord Shaftesbury to
joint action, 451 ; on the Vatican
Council, 452 ; the Third ' Eire
nicon,' 453 ; opening of Keble
College, 455-457, 462; visits
Buxton, 457 ; on judgment in
Bennett case, 460 ; on Franco-
Prussian War, 461 ; visits Corn
wall, 466 ; serious illness, 467 ;
battle for Athanasian Creed, 470-
473 ; foreign tour, 473-477 ; Uni
versity sermon on Intellect in
Matters of Faith, 477 ; dangerously
ill at Genoa, ib. ; sojourns at
Malvern, 479, 481 ; on increased
ritual, 484, 485 ; on Public Wor
ship Bill, 486 ; speech at St.
James's Hall, 487 ; spends Christ
mas at West Malvern, 488 ; con
sulted by Archbishop Trench, 489,
492 ; on influence of Athanasian
Creed, 489 ; appealed to by Arch
deacon of Dublin, 490 ; mental
overstrain, 493 ; sermon on open
ing of Keble College Chapel, 495 ;
book on the Filioque, 497 ; life
at Ascot Hermitage, 499-503 ;
serious illness, 504 ; refuses to sit
for his portrait, 505 ; summer at
Ascot, 506, 507 ; resigns seat on
Hebdomadal Council, 508 ; last
University sermons, 509-511 ; on
Burial Service for unbaptized chil
dren, 513; recollections of, 514,515,
537. 538 ; °n Newman being made
a Cardinal, 517-520; writes to
members of English Church Union,
522, 540 ; on Philip Pusey's death,
523 ; seriously ill again, 524-528 ;
reply to Dr. Farrar's book, 529 ;
on Ritualists, 530, 531 ; on Eccle
siastical Courts, 533 ; on the Vati
can decree, 534 ; unchanging con

stancy, ib. ; private affections,
535 > care for individual souls, 536,
537 ; last days at Ascot, 545 ; de
fends Rev. S. F. Green in the
Times (last public utterance), 546 ;
last illness, 547-552 ; death, 553 ;
funeral, 554-556
Pusey, Catherine Emmy, 67, 69,
71, 72
Pusey, Clara (Mrs. Fletcher), 34,
381
Pusey, Charlotte Bouverie, 2, 148
Pusey, Elizabeth Bouverie, 2, 48
Pusey, Henry Bouverie, 37
Pusey, Hon. Philip (father of E. B. P.),
I, 5-7, 13. 21, 48-51
Pusey, Lady Emily, 8, 16, 314, 369,
378, 379
Pusey, Lady Lucy, 1, 5, 6, 14, 29,
49. 73. 136, i44> 156, 160, 161, 168,
183, 311, 312, 342, 393-395
Pusey, Lucy Bouverie (eldest daughter
of E. B. P.), 65, 94, 113, 130, 135,
H3. 15*. '53. 156. 159, 181, 182,
195. 233-245. 266
Pusey, Mary Amelia (youngest child
of E. B. P.), 73, 93, 94, 113, 125,
134, H3. 153. 161, 187, 225, 310,
3'4. 333. 334. 338, 339. 342, 355,
369. 378. (See Brine, Mrs.)
Pusey, Mrs. (See Barker, Miss), 57,
60, 63, 65-73, 83, 92, 94, 98, 103,
104, 108, no, 112, 117-119, 123-
130, 134-137, 140-151
Pusey, Philip (eldest brother of
E. B. P.), 2, 7, 8, 12, 16, 369,
370, 378, 379
Pusey, Philip Edward(son of E. B. P.),
65, 94, 123, 124, 152, 166, 187,
246, 3H. 342. 391. 435. 458, 459.
468, 477. 523-526
Pusey, Rev. William Bouverie
(brother of E. B. P.), 2, 9, 92, 129,
530. 550-555

Ramsgate, visit to, 83
Record, The, 89, 403
Religious communities, first thoughts
of, 165
Reunion of Christendom, Union for
Prayer for, 168, 443V47, 498
Richards, Rev. E. T., 264, 325, 334

INDEX.

569

Richards, Rev. W. Upton, 301, 302,
352 note
Ridsdale case, 498
Ritualism, agitation against, 436 ;
Dr. Pusey on, 448, 484, 488, 498
Ritual Commission, fourth report of,
470
Roberts, Rev. Richard, 7
Roman Catholic Emancipation, 65
Roman and English Communions,
the, 291, 292
Rome, secessions to, 193, 229, 294,
321, 323, 343, 346, 355, 356, 358,
363, 376 ; Dr. Pusey not responsible
for, 363
Rose, Rev. Hugh James, 45-47, 64, 78
Salisbury, Marquis of, 456, 457
Sarum Breviary, the, 168
Sceptic, Dr. Pusey's correspondence
with, 23-26
Schleiermacher, Professor, 28
Scott, Sir Walter, 57
Seager, Rev. C, 229
Sermons, by E. B. P. :
First preached, 57
First published, 69
For Salisbury Infirmary, 81
On November 5, 1837, 121
At Exeter and Brighton, 1839, 158
On November 24, 1839, ib.
' The Holy Eucharist a Comfort to
the Penitent ' (condemned), 201
At consecration of St. Saviour's,
Leeds, 302
' The Power of the Keys,' 307
At Clifton, Bristol, and Horfield,
In octave of consecration of St.
Barnabas', Pimlico, 355
At St. Saviour's, Leeds, 356
University, 407
 , on Holy Eucharist, 375
 , on Science and Faith, 509
Shaftesbury, Lord, 404, 451, 512. (See
Ashley, Lord)
Short, Rev. Thomas Vowler (after
wards Bishop of St. Asaph), 12, 92
Sikes, Dr. T., 75~77
Sisterhoods, 160, 165, 237 ; founda
tion of first Anglican, 266-280;
336, 337.499-503. 545. 551

Skinner, Rev. James, 448 ; chaplain
at Ascot Priory, 502, 506, 520, 523,
538
Southey, Mrs., 57
Southey's 'Colloquies,' cited, 271
St. Saviour's Church, Leeds, 162,
297-304. 317-324. 339-341. 355.
356, 390 ; 461
St. Saviour's Home, 279
State, the, and matters of faith, 347
Stewart, Mr. Shaw, 533

Talbot, Rev. Edward (now Bishop
of Rochester), 457
Terrot, Miss, 270
Test, new University, proposed, 257,
258
Theological Society, 93, 96
Tholuck, Professor, 28
Throckmorton, Sir Nicholas and
Miss, of Buckland, 381
Times, The, on ' Tracts for the Times,'
178, 179. 465. 472, 480
Torquay visit to, 338
' Tracts for the Times,' 73, 78-81, 87-
91, 131-133
Tract No. xviii., on Fasting, by
E. B. P., 81
Tracts Nos. Ixvii. -Ixix., on Baptism,
byE. B. P., 87, 88
Tract No. lxxxi., on the Holy Eucha
rist, by E. B. P., 120
Tract No. xc, on Thirty-nine Articles,
169-180, 192, 193, 258-262, 410,
411, 418, 421,428, 465
Tractarians, early, 74-77
Trench, Rev. F. Stewart, 185
Trench, Archbishop Chenevix, 489-
493
Tyler, Rev. J. E., 20, 535

Unbelief, first contact with, 23-26,
3°
' Unlaw in Judgments of the Judicial
Committee, and its Remedies,' 532

Vatican Council, the, 440, 441,
452-455. 534
Ventnor, visit to, 82

57°

INDEX.

Ward, Rev. Richard, 297, 321-323
Ward, Rev. W. G., 183, 190, 193,
255-258, 261, 262
Watson, Sir Thomas, 5 10
Wellington, Duke of, installed as
Chancellor of Oxford University,
83, 84
Whately, Archbishop, 259
Wilberforce, Bishop, 335, 367, 398,
403. 471-473. 479 ; 521
Williams, Dr. Rowland, 402
Williams, Rev. Isaac, 79, 190, 191,
215
Williams, Mr. Robert, 163

Wilson, Rev. H. B., proceedings
against, 402
Wilson, Rev. R. F., 27, 162, 185, 416
Winchester, Bishop of (Dr. Sumner),
184
Wiseman, Cardinal, 272, 273
Wood, Hon. C. L. (now Lord Hali
fax), 435, 522
Wootton, Dr., 116, 118, 160
Wynter, Dr., Vice-Chancellor, 203-
222. (See Letters.)
Yonge, Miss, 432
Young, Rev. Peter, 184

THE END.

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