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A MEMOIE
OF THE
RIGHT HON. WILLIAM PAGE WOOD
BAEON HATHEELET
WITH SELECTIONS from his COBEESPONDENCE
BDITED BY HIS NEPHEW
W R. W STEP.HENR, M.A.
PREBENDARY OF CHICHESTER AND RECTOR OF WOOLBEDING, SL'SSEX
EDITOR OF 'THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF DEAN HOOK' ETC.
IN TWO VOLUMES
YOL. I.

LONDON
RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET
IJnblisIjcrs in ©rbinsra to itt ^Bjtsig t^t SJuun
1883

3y C4.. li^

PEEFACE.

Is the year 1863 Mr. Foss, author of the well-
known work entitled the ' Judges of England,
with Sketches of their Lives,' requested Vice-
Chancellor Wood to supply him with some notes
of his hfe. The Autobiographical Sketch which
forms the introduction to these volumes was
written in compHance with this request, and from
it Mr. Eoss compiled the notice which concludes
the last volume of his work published in 1864.
The Autobiography breaks off, as will be seen,
rather abruptly ; and, although it is a careful and
accurate record of facts, it does not pretend in any
sense to be a finished composition. The original
manuscript is very roughly and hurr^c^iy written,
and I have found considerable difficulty in de-

VI PREFACE.
ciphering some passages, and more especially pro
per names. Eor kind assistance in this labour, and
also for supplying me with some useful information
for other parts of the Memoir, I have to thank my
uncle's old and much valued friend, Mr. Gordon
Whitbread, who for many years acted as his
private secretary.^
Some explanations and illustrations of the
Autobiography have been added ; for the most part
in footnotes ; but occasionally, when they seemed
to be too long for footnotes, or to be more closely
connected with the narrative, they have been
incorporated in the text, only enclosed in brackets,
and signed Ed. for ' Editoe.'
I have to express my sincere thanks to the
present Lord Chancellor, the Earl of Selborne, for
his kindness in giving me some information re
specting the measures of Law Eeform introduced
by Lord Hatherley, and also for some observations
upon his character which will be found at the end
of the second volume.
The life which it has been my lot to depict,
' On the day after these words were written I heard with much
sorrow that Mr. Whitbread had died on the previous evening : but I
leave the passage unaltered.

PREFACE. vii
although an exceedingly active one, was not full of
startling incidents. Yet it may be read with
interest and profit by any who have a mind to
trace the career of one who by great ability,
persevering industry, and singular purity of
goodness, steadily found his way to one of the
highest official positions in the country, although he
never made it the object of ambitious pursuit. His
letters will be found replete with wise and instruc
tive observations upon religious, philosophical,
political, and social questions. The example of his
long and consistent advocacy of the most advanced
Liberal measures in politics, combined with his
steadfast fidelity to the teaching and practice of
the Church of England, will be deemed by many
to be especially valuable in the present day, when
the best guarantee for the preservation of the
Church as a national establishment consists in her
proving that she can be the common home of men
of all poUtical parties.
The letters published in these volumes have
been selected, with a few exceptions, from the
correspondence of Lord Hatherley with his hfe-
long friend, Walter Earquhar Hook, beginning in

VUl PREFACE.
the year 1818 and ending in 1875. There was
no other person with whom he so habitually corre
sponded, and there can be no more faithful reve
lation of any one's thoughts and sentiments than
the letters which are written constantly and un
reservedly to an intimate friend. It would have
been possible to add a few letters to and from
eininent persons, written during Lord Hatherley's
tenure of office as Lord Chancellor ; but they
would have been comparatively devoid of interest,
unless supplemented by others which it would not
have been desirable to pubhsh. And here I will
take the opportunity of saying that neither in
this Memoir, nor in the ' Life of Dean Hook,'
published five years ago, have I suppressed any
thing which is of the smallest interest or im
portance as tending to illustrate the character of
the person who has been the subject of the bio
graphy. I have endeavoured neither to magnify
virtues, nor to conceal or extenuate blemishes
and defects. How far I may have succeeded in
this effort, it is not for me to judge ; but, at any
rate, my aim has been to produce a faithful and
honest portrait. And, in executing this design.

PREFACE. IX
I do not believe that it is necessary to introduce
anything which can cause serious annoyance or
pain to any human being. If a biography cannot
be kept clear of these vices, it had better, as it
seems to me, not be published at all.
I make these remarks because I beheve
memoirs of great and good men to be fruitful
sources of instruction as well as of entertainment, if
executed upon sound principles ; but at the present
day the interests of biography seem to be at stake.
If the pubHcation of inaccurate reminiscences,
and the reckless abuses of editorial power with
which the world has lately been favoured, were to
become the prevailing fashion, good biography
would before long become an impossibihty. And
this for two reasons. On the one hand, the taste
of the reading public would become so vitiated that
they would pronounce all biographies to be vapid,
incomplete, or insincere, which were not seasoned
with the piquant sauce of idle gossip and mis
chievous scandal. On the other hand, men whose
lives were worth recording would become more
reserved in all their communications, or they
would destroy all the most interesting material

X PREFACE.
for their own history, lest it should fall into the
hands of inaccurate, indiscreet, or unscrupulous
editors. In the case of one illustrious person a
large destruction of letters has already been the
result of the publications to which allusion has
been made.

WoOLBEDING ReCIORT :
Januanj 29, 1883.

P.S. — The Bill for Legalising Marriage with a Deceased
Wife's Sister was introduced for the first time into Parliament
in 1842, not in 1849 as stated in vol. ii. p. 26 ; but the persis
tent and organised agitation in favour of that measure dates
from the latter year.
I regret that a letter on the Philosophy of Bentham, which
I had intended to reprint from the ' Life of Dean Hook,' vol. i.
p. 245, has been inadvertently omitted.

CONTENTS OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.

PA'JS
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH . ... 1

MEMOIR.
CHAPTER I.
School Life at Winchester and Geneva  101
Correspondence a.b. 1818 to 1819 ... 10(;
CHAPTER 11.
Life at Cambridge— Tour in Italy — Beginning of Professional
Career — Attachment to his future Wife — Happiness of his
Married Life— Accession of Wealth — Foimdation of a School
at Hatherley — Characteristics of Letters to W. F. Hook . 1.39
Diary and Correspondence A.D. 1828 to 1847 .... 150

Errata.

Page 73, line 13 from foot,/o»- 1844 read 1843.
'• 1*1 ¦ .. 8 „ „ „ Bird's „ Eeid's.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

I WAS born on November 29, a.d. 1801, in Falcon
Square, in the parish of St. Giles, Cripplegate, in the
City of London. My parents were Matthew Wood
(then carrying on business as a hop merchant, in
partnership with Mr. Wigan, in Falcon Square), and
Maria, daughter of Mr. John Page, of Woodbridge.
in the county of Suffolk, surgeon.^ They had six
children, of whom the youngest, Henry Wright
Wood, died in his infancy. Of the others four are
still living ; ^ including myself, my eldest brother
Sir John Page Wood, Bart., rector of St. Peter's
¦Cornhill, and vicar of Crossing in Essex ; ' and my
^ Crabbe, the poet, was apprenticed, when a youth, to Mr. Page.
An old scrap-book which belonged to my mother contains a copy of a
3)lay-bill, rudely printed, announcing that ' This present evening will
be performed an English burletta, called Midas.' A list of the
drarnatit persona follows, the actors being my grandmother, and her
brothers and sisters. My mother used to tell me that Crabbe printed
the play-bill and supported the part of Apollo, which is left blank in
the list of actors. The plav-biU is not dated. — Ed.
^ All now deceased. — Ed.
^ Sir John's fifth son, Henry Evelyn, has achieved at the early
age of forty-four a very high military reputation; but not higher than
was confidently expected and predicted by his uncle, who watched
Vol. I. B

2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
two sisters, Maria EHzabeth, the wife of Edwin
Maddy, Esq. D.C.L., and Catharine, the wife of
Charles Stephens, Esq., banker, of Earley Court, near
Eeading. I was the fourth child, and my brother
Western, late M.P. for the City of London, who
died in 1863, was the fifth. My father's family had
once been a family of some note in the counties
of Cornwall and Devon, under the names of
Attwood and Wood. Our branch of it had early
settled at Tiverton, and one of my father's direct
ancestors acted as Squire at the funeral of Catherine,
Countess of Devon, sister of Edward IV. But in
the eighteenth century the family had become so
much reduced that my grandfather^ who was a
serge manufacturer, was incapable of making any
provision for a family of ten children. My father,
who was the eldest, received the rudiments of
education at Blundell's Free Grammar School in the
town of Tiverton, but at a very early age he was
employed in assisting his father to collect the serge
from the cottages where it was manufactured. On
one occasion before he vras fourteen years of age
he went to Exeter by himself, owing to the sudden
illness of his father, on the usual day for the sale
of manufactured goods, and, after calling upon
several merchants, disposed of his wares to the
his career with extraordinary interest from the beginning, when he
distmguished himself, at the age of sixteen, in the naval brigade before
Sebastopol. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 3
house of Messrs. Baring & Co. The event was
strongly impressed upon his memory by the cir
cumstance that, in returning home after dark, he
had a bad fall from his pony. He was taken up
in a state of insensibiUty with a wound in his
cheek, of which he bore the scar to the end of
his life. At the age of fourteen he was apprenticed to
Mr. Newton, his first cousin, who then carried on
an extensive wholesale and retail business as a
druggist, tea and hop dealer, in Fore Street,
Exeter. Here my father gave great satisfaction to
his employer and his customers, and at the age of
nineteen he w.as engaged as a traveller by Mr.
Waymouth, the head of a very old firm of wholesale
druggists in Exeter. It is singular that at this
time Mr. Gibbs, the father of Sir Vicary Gibbs,^
resided next door to Mr. Waymouth 's house of
business, whilst Dr. Woolcott (better known as
Peter Pindar), and Mr. Baring, the father of Lord
Ashburton, were frequent visitors at Mr. Way-
mouth's residence at Topsham.
Before he had attained the age of twenty-two m.j
father had attracted notice by his abihty and in
tegrity as a traveller, and was invited by Messrs.
' Sir Vicary Gibbs became Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas
in 1814, and held that office for nearly five years. His professional
learning and ability were of the highest order ; but he was unfortu
nately not less distinguished for acerbity of temper. — Ed.
B2

4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Crawley & Adcock, of Bishopsgate Street, London,
to accept a situation in that capacity under their
firm, and he accordingly went to London early in
1790. About two years afterwards a partnership
was formed by one of the Messrs. Adcock and
Messrs. John and Thomas Price, into which my
father was admitted, and they carried on their
business as druggists in Devonshire Square. This
partnership was not of long continuance, and upon
its dissolution my father set up business on his own
account in Cross Street, Clerkenwell.
In 1796, being twenty-eight years old, he
married, and soon afterwards entered into partner
ship with the late Mr. Wigan and his son, and went
to reside at the house of business in Falcon Square,
Cripplegate. At the time of my birth my father was a
Common Councilman for the ward of Cripplegate.
A few years afterwards, in 1807, during his absence
on a tour in Ireland, he was elected Alderman for
the ward : and about that time went to reside at
Highbury Place, Islington.
We, the children of the family, passed much of
our time at the house of our grandmother at
Woodbridge iri Suffolk. My grandfather Mr. Page
and aU his children except my mother, and my
uncle William Wood Page, were now dead. My
uncle had been educated for the medical profession
at Edinburgh ; but on the death of his father and

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 5
of his only brother, ,he resided with his mother,
and had become a landowner and magistrate in
the county. After him I had been named, and to
him I attribute in a great measure a very early
taste for hterature. In him and in my father
I had examples of scrupulous honour and in
tegrity ; while to my grandmother and mother I
owed the yet deeper obligation of early rehgious
training. In 1808 I went as a day scholar to the Free
School at Woodbridge, founded by Mr. Thomas
Seckford, Master of the Court of Eequests in the
reign of Queen EHzabeth, which was then kept by
the Eev. Alan Barker. Curiously enough, I lately
had the satisfaction, as Vice-ChanceUor, of settHng
a scheme for a great extension and improvement of
this school. The Master of the Eolls and the Chief
Justice of the Common Pleas for the time being are
trustees of a large and improving property in
ClerkenweU, forming the endowment of certain
almshouses and other charitable foundations of
Seckford at Woodbridge ; and the present Master
of the Eolls ^ suggested the propriety of a scheme
for the general improvement of the charity, in
cluding a considerable development of the school,
which scheme was brought before me judicially as
Vice-ChanceUor. I attended this school for about a year and had
' Sir John RomiUy. — Ed.

6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
acquired the rudiments of Latin when in 1809 I
was placed as a boarder at Dr. Lindsay's school at
Bow near London, where my elder brother had
been for some time a pupil. Dr. Lindsay himself
was a highly respected Presbyterian minister ; but
although my father had been originally brought
up as a Dissenter, all his children were baptised as
members of the Church of England, to which my
mother belonged, and were trained pursuant to its
doctrines, and I and my brother, while we were at
Dr. Lindsay's, attended service at Bow Church, as
did the majority of the boys belonging to the
school. Dr. Lindsay's school consisted of about seventy
or eighty boys, so that the rough training of Hfe
began here. There were several foreigners amongst
them, including a Dutch boy, a Swede, and a
Spaniard ; and hence I imbibed a great desire to be
come acquainted with modern languages — a desire,
however, which was not gratified till seven years
afterwards. There were also several Highland
boys in the school, who, strange as it may now
seem, could scarcely on their arrival speak one
word of Enghsh. I remained at Dr. Lindsay's tUl
1812, and in September of that year was removed
to Winchester, where my elder brother had pre
ceded me by about two years.
At Dr. Lindsay's school I had acquired the
rudiments of Greek and sufficient knowledge of

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 7
Latin to translate Cassar and the easier parts of
Virgil. I had also maintained the taste for poetry
which I had derived from my uncle Mr. Page, and
had pursued a course of romance and novel-reading
so eagerly, that by the time I went to Winchester
my enthusiasm for that species of literature had
much abated. It must be remembered that Miss
Porter and Mrs. EadcHff were then our chief authors
in that department. Miss Austen's charming tales
were beyond the appreciation of a boy.
In 1809, the year in which I went to Dr.
Lindsay's school, my father served the office of
Sheriff with Alderman Atkins. In this capacity he
was caUed upon to discharge the duty of arresting
Sir Francis Burdett on a Speaker's warrant. He
implored the Government in vain to abstain from
calHng in the military on this occasion ; but he
was more successful in remonstrating against their
employment on the release of Sir Francis, and
preserved the public peace inviolate, notwithstand
ing the disappointment of the myriads who were
assembled to witness a procession from which the
intended hero unexpectedly absented himself^
^ The circumstances which led to the an-est and imprisonment of
Sir Francis Burdett are probably known to few persons in the present
day, and a brief notice of them may, therefore, not be out of place here,
as elucidating Lord Hatherley's references to the event. In January
1810 a motion had been carried in the House of Commons that the
House should resolve itself into a committee to inquire into the policy
And conduct of the disastrous military expedition to Walcheren.

8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
In 1812, the year in which I went to Winches
ter, my father was a candidate for the representa-
The Ministry, who had been defeated in their opposition to this
motion, were extremely anxious to hinder publicity being given to the
results of the inquiry ; knowing that an amount of military blundering
and incapacity must be disclosed which would excite the indignation of
their own countrymen and might stimulate the efforts of Bonaparte
against England. It was therefore resolved to enforce the standing
order for the exclusion of all strangers from the gallery during the
inquiry. A debating society in London discussed this resolution, and
unanimously resolved that ' it ought to be censured as an insidious and
ill-timed attack upon the liberty of the press, tending to aggravate the
discontent of the people, and to render their representatives objects of
jealous suspicion.' The walls of London were presently covered with
printed copies of the resolution. This was complained of in the
House as a gross violation of the privileges of the House. The
printer of the handbills was summoned to the bar of the House,
expressed his contrition, and revealed the name of the author, the
president of the debating club, Mr. John Gale Jones.
On the morrow, February 21, Mr. Jones was brought to the bar,
and by a unanimous vote of the House committed to Newgate. On
M^ch 12 Sir Francis Burdett moved that John Gale Jones be dis
charged, and in so doing he questioned the legality of the commit
ment. He was outvoted by 153 to 14; but he printed his speech a
few days afterwards, prefaced by a letter to his constituents, and pub
lished this in Cobbett's WeeMy Register. Both speech and letter con
tained vehement expressions which were considered by many calculated
to infiame the passions of the people against the authority of Parlia
ment. The matter was brought before the House, and on April 5,
a resolution was carried, by a majority of 38, that Sir Francis should
be committed to the Tower, under the warrant of the Speaker, as
guilty of a libel on the House. Sir Francis shut himself up in his
house in Piccadilly, barred his doors and windows, declared that he
would yield tu nothing but force, and wrote a letter to the Speaker in
which he maintained that the warrant was illegal. A huge mob
collected in Piccadilly, who shouted ' Burdett for ever ! ' compelled all
passengers to take off their hats and join in the cry, and smashed thfr
windows of Lord Chatham, Lord Castlereagh, and other unpopular

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 9
tion of the City of London in ParHament, but the
old Tory members were returned by a majority
of 1,000.
public men. I have in my possession some manuscript notes of my
grandfather Sir Matthew Wood's hfe, written iu a hand unknown to
me, but evidently by a contemporary, and apparently by one who held
some office at the time of the Burdett riot. I quote his account of
my grandfather's part in these transactions: He was at his house
at Highbury when he received the Speaker's warrant. He imme
diately came to town, sent off for his colleague Mr. Sheriff Atkins,
called on Mr. Gurney, a barrister, now Baron Gurney, an old acquaint
ance, and took his advice on the case. Having called also on the
Speaker to consult him, he took a room at the Gloucester Coffeehouse,
and with great activity kept the peace untU Sunday evening, when the
magistrates insisted on clearing the street. He protested strongly
against this measure ; but one of them mounted a horse of one of the
dragoons, and with the dragoons they cleared the streets. But the
moment it became dark the people put out the Ughts, took down some
building materials from some houses under repair, and laid them across
the street to prevent the cavalry from acting. They then got into the
courts and alleys, and fired on the soldiers or threw stones at them,
Mr. Wood went several times during the night to Sir Francis Burdett,
and asked him if he would surrender ; but he replied he would not he
taken except by force.
On Monday morning the military broke in and he was taken to
the Tower. The livery of London met at the GuUdhall and voted an
address to Sir Francis, which they requested the sheriffs to convey to
him. Mr. Sheriff Atkins refused ; but Mr. Wood went with the state
coach to the Tower and was receivedby Lord Moira (the Constable
of the Tower).
Sir Francis Burdett remained in the Tower till June 1811, when
the prorogation of Parliament necessitated his release. The excite
ment of the people and their devotion to the man whom they deemed
the champion of their rights had not abated, and a vast multitude
assembled on the morning of his release to escort him, in triumph from
the Tower to Piccadilly. To avoid all risk of a riot, however. Sir
Francis very prudently resolved to quit the Tower privately and pro
ceed by water to Westminster. Meanwhile the mob waited in
anxious suspense for the appearance of their favourite. A soldier on

10 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
When I entered Winchester, Dr. GabeU was
head-master and Mr. Williams ^ the second master,
while Dr. Huntingford, Bishop of Hereford, was
warden of the college. I and my brother were
not on the foundation, but were members of
commoners, and, as such, pupils of the head-master.
The number of commoners was then limited to
130, and that of the coUege or foundation boys to
70. We remained at Winchester till May 1818,
and I always recognise the inestimable value of the
instruction which I there received. Dr. GabeU
especiaUy was pre-eminent as a teacher, though
defective in his management as a master, owing to
his bad habit of mistriisting the boys and leaving
nothing to their sense of honour. Dr. Wilhams, on
the other hand, was admirably quahfied to win the
affection of his pupils by his gentlemanly and con
fiding treatment of them, though his teaching was
the walls of the Tower roared through a speaking-trumpet, ' He is
¦gone by water ! ' but the people would not believe this announcement,
«ven when repeated by several other officials, until at last the two
sheriffs, Mr. Atkins and Mr. Wood, entered the Tower, and on their
return convinced the multitude that Sir Francis had actually departed,
and induced them to disperse quietly. The commotion caused by the
arrest of Sir Francis was the most formidable disturbance which had
occurred in London since the celebrated No Popery Riots of 1780. On
the day of his imprisonment about 40,000 troops were collected in or
near the metropolis, the southern counties were in a state of extreme
alarm, and the foreign newspapers informed the world that a Revolu
tion had taken place in London. — Ed.
^ Afterwards Dr. Williams. He became head-master of Win
chester and the Warden of New College, Oxford. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 11
not so searching and effective. Dr. GabeU allowed
nothing to be slurred over ; not the slightest Greek
particle was to lose its effect, not a syllable in
reading was to be dropped by carelessly allowing
the voice to sink ; and the method which he
adopted (though it would be tedious to state it
here in detail) was such as to render escape from
detection impossible on the part of the ignorant
and careless who were not prepared with their
lessons. No boys reached the Universities so
thoroughly grounded in Latin and Greek, or so
thoroughly masters of their books which they
affected to know, as the pupils of Dr. GabeU. It is
great praise to him to say that he enabled every
boy to gauge himself and to measure his own
ignorance. The whole administration, however, of a public
school, should rest on confidence in the gentle
manly spirit of the boys. The discipline of the
school depends at Winchester upon the head boys
called prefects. These boys should never be
required to act as spies, and should themselves be
treated with such trust as to make them ashamed
to abuse it. In consequence of a failure on Dr.
GabeU's part in these respects, a want of confidence
had sprung up between him and the head boys ;
and the conduct of one of the tutors which assumed
too much, as the boys thought, the character of
espionage, led in May 1818 to a rebelHon. At this

12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
time, having worked my way up from the lower
form, and having gained the prize in each form, I
was the second prefect in commoners. I deeply
regretted afterwards the pain I must have occa
sioned to a reaUy kind (though I stiU think mis
taken) master, but at the time I heartily joined in
the insurrection. It lasted about twenty-four hours,
during which time the boys were masters of the old
coUegiate buildings, where they had barricaded
themselves and withstood a summons by a magistrate
attended by the constabulary. The mihtary were
then sent for — a very foolish step, for there had lately
been a quarrel between the boys and the men of the
regiment about the use of a bathing place. Dr.
GabeU, however, bethought him of an ingenious
scheme. . He said the boys had better aU go home.
They marched out of coUege with this intent, and
met the mihtary in the churchyard, who were
ordered to charge them, when it must be confessed
the boys ignominiously fled, having happily nO'
weapons but bludgeons at hand, and the military
being fully armed. Two who were fortunate
enough to be made prisoners dined afterwards at
mess. The rest of the boys were easily captured
afterwards, whilst they were packing up, by the
locking of the outer gates. The head boys were
caUed up seriatim before the master and second
master, and the first and third prefects were ex
pelled. I was then caUed up, and I asked what

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 13
had become of the other two, as a paper had been
signed by the first three forms that all would share
a common fate. My inquiry was not answered,
but I was sent into another room to reflect in order
to submission. From the window of this room,
however, I saw and conversed with the other two
prefects and learned their expulsion, and imme
diately on my return I stated that I must follow
their example. I left the school taking with me
my younger brother,^ who had signed the paper
as well as myself.
The reason why I received such lenient treat
ment was, that up to that time I had been very
regular in my conduct and was somewhat of a
favourite with the head-master ; and it was supposed
that as I was younger than many of the prefects,
being only sixteen years old, I had been misled by
them, This, however, was not the fact. I had no
special, personal grievance, but I had conceived the
most intense disgust at the constant want of confi
dence and the suspicions exhibited by the head
master, of the extent of whose regard for myself,
as subsequently expressed in a letter to my father,
I was not then aware.^
' Mr. Western Wood. Their elder brother John had, I believe,
left Winchester before the rebellion. — Ed.
¦^ I have not discovered this letter ; but the following letter from
the Bishop of London (Howley)to my grandfather, written in Decem
ber 1816 just after he became Lord Mayor, contains a striking testi
mony from Dr. G abell : —

14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
The masters (most erroneously) afterwards attri
buted my conduct to my ' Eadical propensities,'
derived, as was supposed, from reading the ' Morning
Chronicle.' It is indeed most amusing to look
back upon the horror which was then felt at the
supposed fearful Eadicalism of ' Alderman Wood,'
who had now become the single Liberal representa
tive of the City of London in Parliament, the other
three being staunch supporters of the existing
Government. My younger brother was sent back to Winches
ter, and I myself was sent shortly afterwards for
two years to Geneva. My father was induced by the
suggestion of my uncle, Mr. Page, to adopt this
course, in preference to sending me to a private tutor,
as being more calculated to enlarge my mind.
On looking back to my career at Winchester
I have always acknowledged the immense advan
tage of a pubhc school education. The school
discipline of fagging was to a young and rather
sensitive boy very severe, but it was just that
which was wanting to brace one up to face the
realities of hfe ; and in spite of some cruelty
' My Lord, — I transmit to your lordship a letter from Dr. Gabell
which he sent under cover to me, and I cannot resist transcribing a
paragraph from his letter to me, as I know it wiU give your lordship
and the Lady Mayoress great pleasure.
' " He (the Lord Mayor) has a son here of extraordinary ability,
industry, ability, good temper, and good conduct." Your lordship has
of course heard this from Dr. GabeU, but you will not be displeased at
finding that he says the same thing to an indifferent person.' — En.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 15
amongst the head boys, and of the disadvantage of
their not being all treated by the head-master on
the principle of honour, the tone of the school as a
whole was that of highly honourable young lads.
There might have been something better if there
had been more confidence, and something higher in
the best sense. The rehgious element, indeed,
which happily is now more highly developed in
almost all schools, Avas perhaps more than commonly
kept back by the want of confidence between the
master and the boys. StiU it vdll always be to the
credit of Winchester that Arnold was brought up
there, and that (at a later period than that which
I am now discussing) he sent his sons thither.
But the highest advantage of a public school
remains yet to be noticed. It is there that the friend
ships of hfe are formed, and in this respect I was
singularly blessed. In the very year of my arrival
at Winchester (1812) I formed a friendship with
Walter Farquhar Hook which has lasted through
life. From 1812 tUl the present time scarcely a
month has intervened without correspondence
between us. Hook was three years older than my
self, but he had devoted himself so much to English
hterature that he fell below me in the school. In
this respect we became mutually useful to each
other. Hook was passionately fond of reading
Shakspeare and Milton when I first knew him, and
a small order of knighthood, called after them the

16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Order of Saints Shakspeare and Milton, was founded
by him, of which he and I were styled the Knights
Grand Masters.^ The other Elizabethan classics,
' The following list of the Knights of this 'most poetical Order'
was written by W. F. Hook in pencil in the blank leaf of vol. iv. of the
pocket edition of Shakspeare which he had at school in 1810. See
Life of Dr. Hook, vol. i. p. 341, or page 601 in the small edition.
' A list of the Knights of the most poetical Order of SS. Shak
speare and Milton : —
W. F. Hook I Founders and
W. P. Wood i Knights Grand Masters.
Henry Minchin, William Heathcote 1 Knights
Edward Austen, Philip Hewett ( Grand Crosses.
' By His Majesty's command.
W. F. Hook I „ 4. • J? Q* ..
_, .„ „^ , > Secretaries of State.
W. P. Wood i
' God Save King Shakspeare ! '
Since Lord Hatherley's death this pocket edition of Shakspeare has
come into my possession, and on the blank leaf of vol. ii. the foUow
ing lines in pencil in W. F. Hook's hand are faintly traceable : —
I.
' To arms, ye brave mortals, to arms ;
To Honour the road lies before ye,
And the name of King Shakspeare has charms
To rouse ye to action of glory.
II.
' Away, ye brave mortals, away,
'Tis Nature that bids ye to save her ;
And who would not Nature obey.
And fight for his Shakspeare for ever ?
' By His Majesty's command the above is to be the national air in
the Shakspearian court. W.' P.' Wood 1 Secretaries to His Majesty.
' God Save King Shakspeare ! ' — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 17
however, Avere graduaUy drawn within the circle of
the studies, or rather the recreation, of our leisure
hours. Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger and the
' Fairy Queen,' were made to contribute to our amuse
ment ; and though of course much more was read
than we digested, stiU the benefit derived from these
studies has been lasting. We even read through
Hoole's ' Tasso and Ariosto,' a work of some labour
owing to the extreme dulness of the translation.
Dr. GabeU himself encouraged English reading.
He would frequently repeat Pope's ' Imitations of
Horace ' to the boys at their lessons, and expected
them to read the ' Spectator,' Johnson's ' Lives of
the Poets,' and some of the English historians.
The time, however, was short for this ; but, being
rather quick over my work, I was able to help my
older friend forward in Greek and Latin in return
for the improvement I derived from his maturer
judgment and larger powers of thought in English
and classical reading.
But a far greater blessing was derived from his
friendship. When I was just fifteen, a confirmation
was held by the Warden in the coUege chapel upon
rather short notice. I was much excited by this,
and it was owing to the invaluable counsel of my
friend that I was encouraged to prepare myself for
that rite and the more solemn one which succeeded
it. This Avas an epoch of life never to be forgotten.
Vol. I. C

18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
It is not right to say more on this subject here than
that from this moment, though Avith many stum-
bhngs and falls, I was enabled to pursue a course
of Ufe animated by a principle then for the first
time appreciated and understood.
Hitherto I have spoken of school life only ; but
during that period from 1809 to 1818 much
education had been going on under home influ
ences ; for it has been well observed that everything
said or done before a child forms part of his
education, and I may be excused, therefore, for
statiag briefly some of the leading events which, as
a boy, I was led to contemplate.
My father by virtue of his office was bound
from time to time to attend the sessions for the
trial of prisoners at the Old Bailey, and he fre
quently took his sons with him, riding in on horse
back Avith them from Highbury. I soon became
very much interested in these trials ; perhaps they
gave me an early inclination for that profession to
which my father, when I was about fourteen, told
me that I was destined. I was, however, very early
shocked at the course of Old Bailey procedure.
Capital offences were at that time almost the rule,
and minor offences the exception. Stealing above
the value of forty shUlings from a dwelhng house
was capital ; and I heard a jury acquit a man of the
capital charge who had stolen a two pound note,
on the suggestion by his counsel of the depreciation

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 19
of that currency, and notwithstanding the judge's
dfrection to the contrary. The criminals who had
been capitally convicted (except those convicted
for murder) Avere brought up in a batch at the
close of the session and condemned wholesale. I
once saw thirty or forty so condemned, some of
whom were making grimaces at the judge, whilst
others who expected to be left for execution were
deeply distressed. The scenes were sometimes
most painfiil ; and the chaplain or ordinary, whose
conversation I sometimes overheard when dining
at the Old BaUey, but too nearly resembled him
who is depicted in Jonathan Wild. On one occa
sion I heard a poor young fellow of seventeen tried
for forgery, who was afterwards executed Avith five
other criminals, not one of whom had committed
any crime attended with violence, and not one of
whom had attained the age of twenty-four. The
last trial I ever heard at the Old BaUey was later
in life when Sfr John Copley,^ Attorney-General,
led the prosecution against Fauntleroy, who might,
had he committed his offence a few years later,
been, Uke his aged and distinguished prosecutor,
stiU numbered among the living.
[My uncle witnessed a few years later in 1818 a
curious incident in the history of our criminal
law which he has not recorded here, although he
^ Afterwards Lord Lyndhurst. — Ed.
C 2

20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
frequently related it to friends. The case was
this : A man named Thornton had been tried for
the murder of a young woman ; the legal evidence
was insufficient to procure a conviction, but the
moral evidence was very strong, and in fact the
relations of the murdered girl had not the smallest
doubt of his guilt, and Ashford, her brother,
appealed against the verdict of the jury. By the
suggestion of a solicitor the defendant availed
himself of the antiquated but unrepealed laAV" of
wager of battle, whereby a person accused of
murder could offer to maintain his innocence by
single combat with the next of kin to the mur
dered person. Thornton therefore pleaded on the
appeal ' Not guilty, and I am ready to defend the
same by my body.' The right to this wager of
battle was argued before Lord EUenborough and
others. The case natur aUy excited very great
interest. My uncle was exceedingly anxious to
hear the argument, and knoAving that the court
would be densely crowded, and being rather short
of stature, he asked Mr. WUde, who afterwards
became Lord Chancellor Truro, but who had then
just been caUed to the Bar, and was engaged as a
junior counsel in the case, if he could help him to get
into a place in court where he could see and hear.
Mr. WUde said that the only method he could
suggest was that his young friend should walk
behind him into court carrying his bag of books.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 21
This my uncle did, and so the two future Lord
Chancellors Avent in together, one acting the part
of clerk to the other.
The argument Avas decided in favour of Thorn
ton's riglit of challenge, but the combat did not
take place. Thornton was a big, powerful feUow ;
and Ashford, who was a puny man, Avithdrew from
the encounter. Thornton emigrated to America
and was never heard of again. The ' wager of battle '
law was repealed by Act of ParUament in the
foUowing year. — Ed.J
I remember being very much struck with my
father's expressions of indignation at the mode in
Avhich Belhngham's trial was hurried on in 1812.
I was at school at Dr. Lindsay's at the time of the
assassination of Mr. Perceval and could not be
present at the trial, but I recollect that my father's
indignation was aroused by the refusal of any post
ponement, though it was physically impossible (at
that time) to produce from Liverpool the evidence
to prove the alleged insanity of the prisoner
before the day fixed for the trial. No one, indeed,
was more shocked than my father at the crime.
He had been in very friendly communication Anth
Mr. Perceval about the removal of the Post Office
(as originally suggested by my father) from
Lombard Street to the present site, and he had
been struck by Mr. Perceval's friendly courtesy ;
but that which at all times of his hfe interested

22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
him more deeply than any other subject was the
due administration of criminal justice.
In the year 1815,^ whUst Lord Mayor Elect, he
had been also elected member for the City of London
in place of Alderman Harvey Combe, who had long
been the sole representative of Liberal pohtics in the
City. In 1 81 6 he had distinguished himself as mayor
by a general improvement of the poUce ; amongst
other things he totaUy prohibited the appearance of
women of the town in the public streets of the City
— a point in which we are sadly behind all Con
tinental toAvns. He felt convinced that many a
young shopman and apprentice fell into sin who
would not have sought out vice, but was too weak
to resist it when temptation stood in his path.
My father's mayoralty was, however, most dis
tinguished by his quelhng, Avith the aid of special
constables only, the fearful Spa Fields riots,^ before
the military had arrived. Sir John Shaw and him
self had personally seized the ringleaders (though
they had armed themselves by plundering Beck-
1 This is an error. My grandfather was first elected M.P. for the
City in 1817.— Ed.
^ It was a period of great distress and discontent amongst the
operative class. Wild, revolutionary projects were concocted by a
smaU band of demagogic agitators, of whom the most notable were
Hunt, Thistlewood, and Watson. They held a mob meeting in Spa
Fields on December 2, 1816, when infiammatory speeches were made.
The mob then marched in a turbulent state through ClerkenweU and
Smithfield to Snow Hill and thence to the Exchange, where they were
checked as related above. — ^Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 23
with's gun-shop) and conveyed them and their flags
into the Eoyal Exchange, Avhich was then closed,
while the magistrates went out to disperse the rest
of the mob.
In the same year he rescued three unfortunate
Irishmen from death. Three pohcemen, named
Pelham, Brook, and Vaughan, had laid a plot
against these poor men, in order to obtain the
' blood money,' as it was termed, of a Mint prosecu
tion. One of the pohcemen hired them at the
Seven Dials to come and do some work for him,
and took them to a room to rub quicksilver on
thin brass plates. He then went out and brought
in the other two policemen, who pounced upon the
Irishmen, and on searching the room all the imple
ments of coining were found, which had been
placed there by these villains. The poor Irishmen
were tried at the Old Bailey, convicted and con
demned, and ordered for execution.
My father was present, and was so much struck
by the story of the Irishmen that he suspected there
had been some foul play. They could not speak a
word of Enghsh ; but, with the aid of an Irish priest
as interpreter, he examined the prisoners, became
conAT.nced of their innocence, and ended by detect
ing the whole plot, and convicting the conspirators.
The Irishmen were of course pardoned, and only a
few years ago I learned that one of them was
acting as head-gardener to Sir George Staunton.

24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
In November 1816 my father was elected mayor
for the second time, the first instance of the kind
since the days of Whittington. He sat in ParUa
ment as member for the City till his death in 1843,
a period of twenty-eight years. His pohtics were
consistent through hfe ; he was vehemently opposed
to the Corn Laws and to the Test and Corporation
Acts. He was not less earnest in supporting
Eoman Catholic Emancipation and ParUamentary
Eeform. These views were not the result of a
desire for popularity. In supporting Eoman
Cathohc Emancipation he made one of his few
speeches in the House just before a general
election, being well aware, as he said, that it was
at the risk of losing his seat. For the first and
only time he thus found himself at the bottom of
the poll, and nearly lost the election.
These circumstances are all mentioned as form
ing no insignificant part of my education. I not
only frequented the Old Bailey, but also sat very
often under the gallery of the House of Commons,
during my boyhood. I heard Canning, Brougham,
Tierney, Wilberforce, Plunkett, Mackintosh, and
Burdett. I heard also Lord Castlereagh not infre
quently indulging in those flowers of false rhetoric
which have been immortalised by Moore in the
' Fudge Family.' During all this time I imbibed my
father's hatred of injustice, and his pohtical opinions,,
in supporting which I encountered much ridicule

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 25
at school ; but there is scarcely any political
principle then advocated by my father which has
not been since embodied in an Act of Parhament
by our Legislature.
In company with my father I visited Cobbett
when he was imprisoned in Newgate for a hbel ;
and I also accompanied him when he left the hust
ings in Covent Garden to inform Lord Cochrane, in
the King's Bench prison, that he had been re-elected
member for Westminster.
During the two years that my father resided at
the Mansion House, I greatly enjoyed the advan
tage of a good Enghsh hbrary there, and stUl
more the advantage of a very valuable general
library founded by Dr. WiUiams in Eed Cross
Street, Cripplegate, in the time of OUver CromweU.
It is the chief pubhc library of the Dissenters. On
my father's introduction, when I was between fifteen
and sixteen years of age, I was most kindly received
by Mr. Morgan, the librarian, and spent many a
morning there vdthout the appearance, strange to
say, of a single other visitor. At the Mansion
House I read through the whole of Clarendon (the
EebeUion and his Life) and rose from the perusal
with an intense aversion to Charles I.
At the Eed Cross Street hbrary I sat under the
shadow of an original portrait of Milton (who is
buried, as aU know, in Cripplegate church) and
reveUed in a large assortment of Enghsh works.

26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
In poetry I chiefly remember, as being new to me,
Fairfax's translation of ' Tasso,' immeasurably
superior to Hoole's. But there was one work
which then made an impression upon me for hfe —
Bishop Berkeley's ' Dialogues ; ' and subsequently
his ' Principles of Human Knowledge.' It was the
first opening to me of the metaphysical field, and
has been my guide in many a metaphysical and
theological inquiry.'- I stiU hold the same opinion
as to the merits of Berkeley, and have been
astonished at its ever being supposed that Eeid
had confuted him.
My love for Shakspeare was greatly enhanced
by my father thinking it a part of his chUdren's
education to take them to see good plays acted.
This began so early with me that at nine years
old I saw Cooke in Sir Pertinax Macsycophant.
At the age of ten I saw John Kemble and Mrs.
Siddons in 'Henry VIH.,' and a year later John
Kemble and Young in ' Julius Csesar.' My father
took a particular interest in the elder Kean,
who had come from a Devonshire stage, and he
took me to the fourth performance of Shylock,
the first of Eichard, and the first of Sir GUes
Overreach.

' The very admirable account of Berkeley and his philosophy in
Dr. Hook's Dictionar-y of Biography was written by my uncle. See
also his letter on the same in Dr. Hook's Life, vol. i. p. 266, or 170
JsmaU edition. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 27
The society, also, which I met in England,
especially during my father's residence at the
Mansion House, Avas favourable to the develop
ment of my mind. I frequently saw Lord Erskine,
and Curran, besides judges, bishops, and others
of more or less note. My greatest enthusiasm was
excited when the Duke of Wellington dined at the
Mansion House to receive the sUver shield pre
sented by the merchants of London. I frequently
also saw and had the honour of being noticed by
the Dukes of Kent and Sussex, my father being
one of the trustees to Avhom the former nobly made
over his income for the payment of his creditors,
reserving only a small allowance for himself.^
In the Avdnter of 1817, after the expiration of his
mayoralty, my father went with his family to Paris,
and there I and my younger brother joined him
in our Christmas hohdays, traveUing alone from
London to Paris. We spent upwards of a month
there. My father was cordially received by the
French Liberal party. The Duke of Orleans
(Louis PhUippe) invited him and the ladies of his
famUy to dinner, and they became acquainted with
the Duke de Broghe, Generals Lafayette and Foix,
with Casimir Perier, Lafitte, Benjamin Constant,
and Avith Denon, the traveller in Egypt.
All these I had an opportunity of seeing, and
heard them converse, though I could only hsten,
1 See more respecting this transaction below, page 71.

28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
being unable to reply in French. I also saw the
King, Louis XVEH., his family and ministers, at the
Chapel Eoyal.
Just at the time when I arrived at home from
Winchester, after the rebelhon in May 1818, my
uncle, Mr. Page, happened to be residing at Geneva,,
and the well-known Dumont, the friend of Sir
Samuel Eomilly, was in England, and strongly
supported my uncle's recommendation of a two
years' course of education for me at Geneva in
preference to a private tutor, as a preparation for
the University.
On my taking leave of home my father caUed
me aside and brought seriously before me his OAvn
position as a man of business, exposed to the
hazards of trade, and told me that my education
was all that I could rely upon as my portion — a
lesson remembered through hfe with deep grati
tude ; neither did I during my father's hfetime
ever receive anything beyond my education at my
father's expense.
At the end of May I traveUed alone to Geneva,
and there found arrangements made by my uncle
for my being placed en pension in the family of
M. DuvUlard, Professor of Belles Lettres in the
Geneva University, caUed the Auditoire. Two
Frenchmen — one of them belonging to the old
noblesse, and the other being the son of a wealthy
manufacturer of MarseUles — and one Enghshman,

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 29
were at that time the only other boarders in M.
Duvillard's house. Subsequently during my two
years' residence an old Winchester schoolfellow
and friend, and one other Enghshman joined us.
M. Duvillard's son had a few young boys as
pupUs under the same roof, amongst whom, during
part of the time, was Jerome Patterson, the eldest
son of the elder Jerome Bonaparte ; his mother,
Mrs. Patterson, residing at that time at Geneva.
Within a few weeks after my arrival I had ac
quired a sufficient knowledge of French to pass
the examination necessary for entering the Audi
toire ; but so imperfect was my knowledge of the
language as yet, that I translated the Greek
authors, in whose works I was examined, into
Latin in preference to French. At this time
DecandoUe lectured on botany, Pictet on natural
phUosophy, Prevost on moral philosophy, and
LhuiUer on mathematics. The lectures were de
livered from eight tUl twelve, each lecture occupy
ing an hour. They had to be taken down by the
pupUs, who were examined the next morning in
the lectures of the preceding day, and at the end
of the year there was a general examination on
the whole course. Besides attending these lectures
I took private lessons in mathematics, and M.
DuviUard kept up some reading with his pupils
in the Latin classics. The Genevese were not
strong in Greek, but many of them were good

30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Latin scholars. I also took lessons in Italian, and
had the very great advantage of attending two
courses of lectures by the eloquent and learned
Eossi, who arrived as a refugee from Bologna
whilst I was pursuing my studies at Geneva. He
afterwards became a peer of France, and finaUy
was murdered when he was first minister of Pope
Pius IX. — an act most disastrous to the Liberal
cause in Italy, for there never was a more sincere
patriot, and there have been but few wiser states
men. The lectures of DecandoUe and Eossi were
of a first-rate order. The former lectured one
year on botany, and the next on zoology ; the
latter on the history of Eoman law, expounding
clearly the \dews of Niebuhr, which had recently
been made public, and adding much lively and
suggestive illustration of his own from modern
sources. These lectures of Eossi's were deUvered
to classes who paid for them, Eossi not being then
a professor of the Auditoire. He Avas afterwards
elected Professor of Civil Law, the first Eoman
Cathohc so elected since the Eeformation. The
lectures of Prevost were sound and interesting,
and those of Pictet remarkable for clearness and
for his adroit manipulation in experiments.
Geneva then presented great additional advan
tages to the young pupils who flocked thither from
aU countries in the society which it afforded.
Young men of rank, and many of great abiUty,

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 31
from France, Eussia, Poland, and every part of
Germany, Avere to be found there, as Avell as from
England and Scotland. All, however young, were
received at the evening parties of the Genevese,
which parties Avere by law compelled to terminate
at midnight. Great opportunities were thus given
of acquiring the refinements of society, and facihty
in speaking any language which might be desired,
Avithout much risk of unduly wasting time. Dumont,
Sismondi, De la Eive, and many other eminent men
were to be met in the society of Geneva at this time.
Amongst other young German princes the late
Prince of Leiningen, half brother to Her Majesty,
was then studying at Geneva, and the Duke of
Kent had Avritten to him and to his tutor, Mr.
Wagner, expressing his desire that the Prince
should become intimate Avith me, and we were
accordingly much throAvn together.-^
' Copies of two letters forming part of the correspondence on this
subject have come into my possession. The first is from Mr. Wagner,
the Prince's tutor, to the Duchess of Kent, and is dated Geneva,
December 10, 1819. The foUowing is a translation of the letter : —
' We have had the good fortune to become acquainted with Mr.
Wood, the young gentleman named to us by His Royal Highness the
Duke of Kent. Of aU his countrymen here he is a most distinguished
example, and I consider that his becoming intimate with my young
charge would be a most important benefit to him ; but, unfortunately,
the strict rules ot the pension to which Mr. Wood belongs prevent the
possibility of our meeting nearly as often as I could wish. To conduct
the most prudent, gentlemanly, and creditable Mr. Wood unites an
unequaUed appUcation to his studies. He attends, at the same time with
my young charge, the lectures of Professor DecandoUe, and he has
uniformly been distinguished for having profited by these instructions

32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
I went through the first year's examination,
which is conducted in pubhc, and was compli
mented by the Eector on its result. The next
year I was about to be examined for the degree of
Bachelor of Arts, when I had occasion to leave
about a fortnight before the examination, OAving
to my father's Avish that I should accompany
Queen Caroline to England, she having taken
Geneva on her route from Italy.
I have never ceased to regard my training at
•Geneva as one of the most satisfactory portions of
my education. It enabled me to acquire sufficient
more than any other person, be he whom he may, that has attended
them. In short, he is a perfect pattern for a young man to copy, and
I earnestly entreat your Royal Highness to use your good offices with
Mr. Wood's father so as to give every possible effect to my anxious
wish that he may he a great deal with my pupU.'
Soon after the receipt of this letter the Duke of Kent wrote to my
grandfather to the following effect : — ' Sidmouth : December 25, 1819.
' My dear Sir, — The Duchess, feeUng for every parent who has a
child abroad as she does for her own, conceives it would be acceptable
to you to learn what has been written to her respecting your son at
Geneva by that valuable man, Mr. Wagner, who has the charge of hers.
I therefore annex, at the foot of this, the paragraph of Mr. W^agner's
letter that relates to him, and I have great satisfaction in adding that
the Duchess wishes you would write to the master of the pension to
which your son belongs to afford every faciUty in his power to their
meeting frequently, as the Duchess is satisfied that the example of
manliness and appUcation set by your son in his studies wiU be a
¦great stimulus to hers. . . . Pray remember me td Mrs. Wood and
your daughters in the kindest manner ; and beUeve me to be at all
times, with friendship and esteem, my dear sir, yours faithfuUy,
— Ed. ' Edwaed.'

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 33
mathematics for my Cambridge career, and at the
same time to master the French and Italian lan
guages, whilst it greatly enlarged my knowledge
of and interest in the general departments of
science, and promoted a healthy appreciation of
the advantages of intercourse, not only with men
of high inteUectual power, but also with ladies of
natural and simple tastes and kind sympathies, at
an age when in England a youth is rarely permitted
to enjoy such opportunities.
I returned to England in May 1820, in the
suite of Queen Carohne. I met my father and
Lady Ann Hamilton at Montbard, and we all
arrived at St. Omer without passing through Paris.
The day after we reached St. Omer Mr. Brougham
arrived, accompanied by Lord Hutchinson, and I
was sent to them by the Queen to beg that they
would immediately wait upon her, as she wished
to proceed to Calais and embark for England with
out delay. She rejected Anth indignation the pro
position that she should accept 50,0O0Z. a year
and give up the title of Queen, and she set off that
day for Calais, and slept on board the English
steamer in the harbour.
[The proposition here alluded to Avas conveyed
by Lord Hutchinson, and was submitted to the
Queen at her desire in the form of a letter ad
dressed to Mr. Brougham. This letter has been
preserved amongst my grandfather's papers, and is
T7^T T Tt

3 4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
thus endorsed in his handwriting : — ' Lord Hutchin
son's original proposition to the Queen of England
at St. Omer, June 4, 1820. This paper was ad
dressed to Mr. Brougham after his arrival at St.
Omer, and delivered to the Queen, who came out
of the room in great agitation and gave it to me
(Alderman Wood '). The letter is as follows : —
' Sir, — In obedience to the commands of the
Queen I have to inform you that I am not in
possession of any proposition or propositions,
detailed in a specific form of words, which I could
lay before Her Majesty. But I can detail to you
for her information the substance of many conver
sations held with Lord Liverpool. His Majesty's
ministers propose that 50,000/. per annum should
be settled on the Queen for hfe, subject to such
conditions as the King may impose. I have also
reason to know that the conditions likely to be
imposed by His Majesty are that the Queen is not
to assume the style and title of Queen of England,
or any title attached to the Eoyal Family of Eng
land. A further condition is that she is not to
reside in any part of the United Kingdom or even
to visit England. The consequence of such a visit
will be an immediate message to Parliament, and an
entire end to all compromise and negotiation. I
think it right to send to you an extract of a letter
from Lord Liverpool to me. His words are : — " It
is material that Her Majesty should know con-

AUTOBIOG R APII Y . 3 -5
fidentially that if she shall be so ill-advised as to
come over to this country, there must be an end
to aU negotiation and compromise ; the decision,
I may say, is taken to proceed against her as soon
as she sets her foot on the British shore." I can
not conclude this letter without my humble, though
serious and sincere, supphcation that Her Majesty
AviU take these propositions into her most calm
consideration, and not act with any hurry or pre
cipitation. On so important a subject I hope that
my advice AvdU not be misinterpreted. I can have
no possible interest which would induce me to give
faUacious counsel to the Queen ; but, let the result
be what it may, I shall console myself Avith the
reflection that I have performed a painful duty
imposed upon me, to the best of my judgment and
conscience. . . . Having done so, I fear neither
obloquy nor misrepresentation. ... I have the
honour, &c.' — ^Ed.J
When the Queen was on board the steamer at
Calais she Avrote a letter to King Louis XVIH.
saying that she had reheved him as early as pos
sible of her presence, though she thought the cir
cumstance that three of her brothers had perished
on the field of battle whilst supporting his family,
merited some attention on his part.
On my arrival in England I was sent for by the
Duchess of Kent to Kensington. She Anshed to
inquire about her son's health and course of study.

36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Before I took my leave she desired the Princess Vic
toria, now our beloved Sovereign, at that time
about a year old, to be brought in, and I had the
honour of kissing her hand.
It is not necessary here to enter into the history
of the subsequent proceedings regarding Queen
Carohne, except to state that soon after her arrival
in England the Bill of Pains and Penalties was
introduced into the House of Lords, ^ and it became
necessary to send some one into Italy to coUect
evidence on her behalf. One of her Itahan suite,
the Chevaher VasseUi, was sent for this purpose ; and
the Queen, who had always been very kind to me,
as she invariably was to all young people, asked
me if I would hke to accompany him. With
my father's permission I gladly availed myself of
this opertunity of Adsiting Italy. We travelled day
and night, and arrived at the end of a week at
Milan. It then became necessary to have some one
to translate the statements of witnesses for the
Enghsh sohcitors and counsel employed in defence
of the Queen at home. A Mr. Henry, who had
been a judge at Demerara and afterwards at the
Ionian Islands, was sent to collect evidence, and I
offered to act as interpreter until some regular
^ On July 6, 1820, by Lord Liverpool. It was entitled a biU ' to
deprive Her Majesty Queen CaroUne AmeUa Elizabeth of the title,
prerogative rights, privileges, and exemption of Queen Consort of this
realm, and to dissolve the marriage hetween His Majesty and the said
Caroline AmeUa EUzabeth.' — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPin'. 37
interpreter should be sent out. I then stayed from
July to the middle of October in Italy, living
almost entirely in Itahan society. I visited Milan,
Verona, Venice, Trieste, Eavenna, Pesaro, and
Eome for the purpose of seeing witnesses and
translating their statements, sometimes by myself,
sometimes in company with Mr. Henry and a
solicitor afterwards sent out. I also spent some
time with Bergami at his viUa at Pesaro,^ and with
the Marquis Antaldi of the same place, a most
estimable Itahan nobleman ; and it was with regret
that I returned home on a hurried summons from
my private tutor at Cambridge, who informed me
that if I missed the October term I should be
thrown back a whole year in my academical
course. Thus ended my sojourn in Italy, which I have
always highly valued on account of the familiarity
which it enabled me to acquire with the Italian
language and Avith Italian society. *0n my way
back from Eome T feU in Avith the Austrian army
marching upon Naples to put down the Constitution
which had been established there.
It may be as well to mention here, Avithout
further aUusion to the subject, that both from the
^ Bartolomeo Bergami had been the Queen's favourite courier
and valet during her foreign travels, and an attempt was made
to prove that there had been a criminal intimacy between him and
the Queen ; but, Uke all the graver charges against her, it broke
down. — Ed.

38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
evidence I obtained in Italy (which could not be
made available) as well as from the evidence
actuaUy given in the House of Lords on the cele
brated BiU of Pains and Penalties, and also from
my oAvn observation of Queen Carohne, with whom,
on my j ourney to England and afterwards, I had
many interviews, I was satisfied of her innocence of
the crimes laid to her charge. She was very care
less of appearances, or even may be said to have
courted observation, as in the famous instance when
it was alleged that WiUiam Austin was her child. ^
She was devotedly attached, and most warm in her
kindness, to aU young people ; but all I saw satis
fied me that she was not guilty of anything beyond
imprudence. Many of her Italian acquaintances,
as the Antaldis of Pesaro and the Ercolanis of
Bologna, were famihes as distinguished for re-
spectabUity as any in our own country.
As for the Queen's trial, never was any trial
against the meanest prisoner so shamefuUy con
ducted. The witnesses for the Queen in Lombardy
and Venice were afraid to go to England on her
behalf from dread of persecution by the Austrian
Government on their return. Those only of the
poorer class would make the venture, and it re
quired several communications with the Court of
^ A boy whom she had adopted, and who constantly accompanied
her. There was no mystery about his parentage, save what was
fabricated by slanderous gossip. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 39
Vienna before Mr. Henry was allowed to despatch
eA'en these. It took a month to send over the first
set, Avhilst the King's Avituesses Avere 8eut at tAventy-
four hours' notice. As a specimen of the difficulty
of inducing Avitnesses to give CA'idence in London
I may mention the case of a jeweller in Venice who
was prepared to sAvear positively that the Queen
never entered his shop, in contradiction to pne of
the King's Avitnesses Avho said she bought a gold
chain there and threw it round Bergami's neck ;
but when I asked him if he would go to England
and repeat the statement there on oath, he rephed
that he dared not, for it would be utter ruin to him
to do so. It was a great satisfaction to me a few
years ago to hear a barrister of great abihty, who
had had large experience in Crown prosecutions,
and who was highly conservative in pohtics, say
that he had read the whole of the Queen's trial
through, and was not only satisfied that the charges
were not proved, but was convinced that she was
innocent. [Amongst my grandfather's papers I have found
a series of letters Avritten to him by Queen Caroline,
most ofthem during the years 1819 and 1820.
I do not think any one could read them without
being moved to compassion for the writer. They are
the piteous record of the hfe of a homeless, perse
cuted wanderer. Her movements were continually
watched and misrepresented by hired spies and

40 AUTOBIOGR.A.PHY.
informers. Ambassadors and Ministers, Enghsh
and foreign, at every Court in Europe treated her
with studied insult, or Avith cold contempt and
neglect. And to this conduct they were instigated
by the Court in England. Every kind of impedi
ment was placed in the way of her meeting Mr.
Brougham in France, as her legal adviser. And
when they did meet, as related above, at St. Omer,
even he was in favour of her accepting the mean
proposition conveyed through Lord Hutchinson,
which in plain Enghsh was a bribe of 50,000/. a
year to induce her to surrender all the honours to
which she was entitled, and tacitly to admit the
truth of accusations which she had always indig
nantly denied.
My grandfather seems to have been the only
person who had the sagacity in this crisis to
perceive the true drift of popular feeling in England,
and to measure its force. He urged the Queen,
much to the annoyance of Mr. Brougham, to pro
ceed Avithout hesitation to England, teUing her that
she might safely rely upon the generous support of
the Enghsh people ; though, perhaps, even he
scarcely anticipated the extraordinary rush of
enthusiasm with which she was actually received.
There were few, indeed, in the higher ranks who
had the courage to befriend her ; for, to quote her
Avords in a long letter which she addressed to her
husband in August 1820, ' to calumniate your inno-

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 41
cent Avife Avas noAV the shortest road to royal
favour, and to betray her Avas to lay a sure
foundation of riches and titles of honour ; ' but the
mass of the people Averc true to her, from the day
after she landed at Dover when she was escorted
by multitudes to London in a kind of triumphal
progress, to the day when they compeUed her
remains to be conducted Avith due honour through
the principal streets of London, in spite of the
mUitary and pohce who tried to enforce the orders
of the Government that the body should be taken
by a more obscure route.
' Here lies Caroline of BrunsAvick, the injured
Queen of England,' was the inscription placed by
her desire upon her coffin ; and a careful perusal of
her letters and investigation of her career, must,
surely, force any candid mind to the conclusion that
the inscription was justified. Granted that she
was not a refined, or dignified, or highly educated
princess, yet she must be credited with some share
of ability, and no small amount of spirit and perse
verance. It must be owned that she was perse
cuted with the most relentless animosity ; and,
whatever her moral failings may have been, no
crime was proved against her, either in the course
of secret inquiries or of a trial which, though
pubhc, could hardly be described as impartial. —
Ed.] In October 1820 1 went to Trinity College, Cam-

42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
bridge. My private tutor was the Eev. George Mac-
farlane, only lately deceased. The tutor of my
side, as it is called, was the Eev. John Brown ; the
Greek lecturer. Professor Monk, afterwards Bishop
of Gloucester and Bristol ; and the lecturer in the
higher mathematics was Mr. Coddrington, who had
recently been senior wrangler.
I formed acquaintances amongst men senior to
myself rather than among men of my OAvn year,
principally from having some Genevese and other
friends in the years above me. I thus became
well acquainted with Lord Macaulay, who was two
years senior to me ; with Afrey, the present
Astronomer Eoyal, who was one year above me ;
with the lamented John Bethune, then Drinkwater,
well known in the CouncU of India ; and several
others who have since achieved distinction. I did
not till later in life know Sir John Eomilly, the
Master of the Eolls, who was also in the year
above me.
During my Cambridge career the suppression
of constitutional government in Italy by Austria, and
in Spain by France, had filled England with Italian
and Spanish refugees. The latter, if they had served
with our army during the Peninsular war, were
provided for to a great extent by our Government,
but many of them and aU the Italians were in a
state of complete destitution. The connexion of
my father with Italians during the time of Queen

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 43
Caroline's trial occasioned many of the Italian
refugees to visit at his house, and many Spaniards
also became desirous of acquaintance. Among
the latter Avere Generals Mina and Quiroja,
Eafael Eiego, Canon of Oviedo, brother of the
general who had been executed in Spain, and
Gahario, a distinguished member of the Liberal
party and an orator of eminence in the Cortes.
Galiario Avas intimately acquainted with our Eng
hsh literature, and of him I took lessons in Spanish.
The principal Italians were General Gughelmo
Pepe, the leader of the Neapolitan constitutional
army, and afterwards in 1848 the defender of
Venice ; and an aide-de-camp of his. Colonel Poerio,
uncle of Carlo Poerio, whose sufferings under the
nefarious administration of the late King of Naples
are but too weU known through Mr. Gladstone's
touching narrative. Pepe and Poerio earnestly
entreated my father to take steps for bringing the
sufferings of their poorer countrymen to the know
ledge of the public, and by my father's direction I
gave notice through Poerio of a private meeting of
aU the Italians who might wish to attend at a room
hired for the purpose in Marlborough Street.
There, as arranged, I made them an address, and
requested each to put down his name, address,
position, and capacity for earning a livehhood.
About 180 did this ; their number was afterwards
considerably augmented, and finaUy my father

44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
procured the Lord Mayor's assent to a public
meeting at the Guildhall for the relief of the
Itahans and such Spaniards as were unaided by the
Government. A subscription of about 100,000/.
was the result of these efforts: Several of the
refugees could manufacture articles of taste, and
our family sold more than 200/. worth of one
particular manufacture alone for the benefit of
some of the Spaniards.
To avoid the expense of a special private tutor
during the long vacation, I read in London during
my first vacation, but the result was prejudicial
to my health. In the second long vacation I was
troubled with most formidable attacks of giddiness
from indigestion attributed to mental exertion, and
for many weeks I could not even read a newspaper.
The disadvantage also of not having a private tutor
was further increased by my giving way too much
to my own course of reading, which was not always
that which would tell in the examinations. The
consequence was that though I had obtained a
scholarship in my first trial for that honour in
1822, and was placed in the first class in each year
in the college examination, I had the mortification
of finding myself 24th wrangler on taking my
degree in January 1824, and several men who had
been in the second class at Trinity were above me.
In 1824 the examinations for honours in classics
were first held, and I went again into the Senate

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 45
House, but the cold marble floor rendered me so
ill that I was compelled to retire from the exami
nation. Ll my second year I had obtained the
second Declamation prize (a silver cup) ; the late
Mr. Hampden Gurney obtained the first. The
custom Avas for the declaimers to be selected two
and tAVO, and they were allowed to choose a subject
out of several submitted to them by the Dean of
the Chapel, where (somewhat indecorously) the
declamations Avere delivered. The theme which I
and my opponent selected was whether the Eevo
lution or the Eestoration had conferred the greater
benefit on our country. I of course took the side
of the Eevolution ; but I wrote my essay with great
reluctance, thinking the whole proceeding rather a
foohsh one, and I was much surprised when I
heard that I had obtained a prize. This declam
ation nearly cost me my FeUowship, as wiU presently
be seen. On leaving Cambridge in January 1824 I was
not competent, according to the rules then in force,
to try for a Fellowship before the following October.
I did not hke to lose all this time of preparation
for my profession by going up to read at Cam
bridge, the more so as I did not expect to obtain a
FeUowship in my first attempt. I therefore pro
posed to my father that I should begin at once to
study for the Bar, and I was placed with the late
Master EoupeU to learn equity drawing. It was by

46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
mistake, and owing to ignorance on my father's
part and on my own, that I was not first placed
Avith a conveyancer. In the Trinity term of 1824
I was entered at Lincoln's Inn ; Henry Brougham
and Thomas Denman signing the recommendation
required by the rules of the Inn. I devoted myself
to my studies as a draftsman till the long vacation,
and then began to read seriously for the approach
ing examination for a Fellowship at Trinity. In July,
August, and September, I read through the ' De
Eepubhcfi, ' and the ' De Legibus ' of Plato, and also
twice read through the whole of Aristophanes,
besides going again over the first and third books
of Newton's ' Principia.' At the election of Fellows
in October there were six vacancies, one being
occasioned by the death of the Greek professor,
Dobree, shortly before the examination. Contrary
to expectation two oiUy of the senior year were
elected, and I, Adth three others of the junior year,
were elected to the other vacancies. My success
took me entirely by surprise. It was announced to
me on the evening before the declamation by the
present Dean of Sahsbury,^ one of the examiners.
He called again, however, late at night to say he
feared he had made a mistake ; nevertheless, next
day I was declared to be elected. The cause of
this hitch, which was not known to me for many
years afterwards, was this. The Master,^ it seems,
1 The late Dr. Hamilton.— Ed. ' Dr. Wordsworth.— Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 47
had been alarmed by the supposed radicalism of
my unfortiuiate college declamation in which I
had quoted the line, ' the right divine of kings to
govern wrong.' Noav the election is by the Master
and eight FeUows, and until the recent alteration
of the statutes by the Eoyal Commission (of which
I was a member), the Master and one Fellow could
place a veto on the election made by the other
FeUows, whatever the result of the examination
might be. After the examination had proved that
I was quahfied for election, the exercise of this veto
was discussed, and one Fellow was found to coincide
with the Master's views, and hence Mr. Hamilton's
fears that the election might be canceUed. ' I have
since been informed that one of the Fellows ex
pressed his intention, should this step be taken, of
printing all the answers to the examination papers.
Be it as it may, the veto was abandoned. No
personal feeling was entertained against me on the
Master's part, for both then and afterwards he was
generaUy most kind and friendly towards me. He
no doubt proposed to act on a sense of duty, and
one can now hardly imagine the dread then enter
tained, by the Tory party, of Liberal politics.
In November 1825 I was invited to accompany
a young man, who had just left Eton for King's
CoUege, a nephew of the present Bishop of Exeter,^
on a journey to the South of Europe recommended
' Bishop Philpotts.— Ed.

48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
to him for his health. I gladly availed myself of
the opportunity of revisiting Italy, and of obtaining
some recreation after hard Avork. We proceeded
by Paris and along the banks of the Ehone to Nice,
thence by the Cornice road (at that time for the
most part a mule road) to Genoa, and by La
Spezzia to Lucca, Pisa, Leghorn, and Florence, and,
after staying there some time, to Eome, and subse
quently to Naples. We returned to England in
May 1826. At Florence I made acquaintance
(amongst other Itahans) with Baron Poerio, the
father of Carlo Poerio, an ex-member of the
Neapohtan Parliament, and at Naples with General
Florentan Pepe, the brother of General Gughelmo
Pepe. At Bologna, too, on my return, I passed
a day with the young Prince Cesare Ercolani, whom
I had known in England after the Queen's trial.
There, too, I was introduced to Professor Tom-
masini, a distinguished medical professor and
practitioner, and to the Abb^ (afterwards Cardinal)
Mezzofanti, the celebrated hnguist. I conversed
with the Abbe in Enghsh, Avhich he spoke without
a grammatical error of any kind.^ I also heard
him speak in German, Itahan, Greek, and Armenian ;
' My father also on one occasion heard him speak English,
and remarked to him that he was quite free from the mistake, so
common with the Irish and Scotch, of misplacing ' shaU and wiU,'
' would and should.' Mezzofanti replied, ' Oh, yes ; 1 think I have com
pletely mastered that difliculty. My rule is " I shaU, You will." ' At
that time he had never been more than thirty miles from Bologna. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 49
and I afterAvards met Avith an Ulyrian monk who
had conversed with him in the Sclavonic tongue,
and a gentleman from India who told me he had
conversed with the Abb^ in Telagoo, the form of
Hindustani spoken in Madras. All agreed as to
his perfect mastery over any language which he
adopted. On my return to England I had the advantage
of being placed in the chambers of the late John
Tyrrell, Esq. ; and I certainly feel that in these
¦chambers, with Mr. TyrreU's careful assistance, I
laid the foundation of all such knowledge of
Enghsh law as I possess. It was Mr. TyrreU's
¦custom to attend his chambers regularly at half-
past six in the evening, and to remain there often
till midnight, or one o'clock in the morning. He
Tvould take tea with such pupils as attended, and
discuss any points of difficulty that arose in their
•examination of his papers, or would go through a
¦course of reading and discuss the subject with them.
At the end of the year I was requested to
remain tiU my caU to the Bar about six months
later, which I did with great satisfaction and profit.
Mr. Tyrrell had been a pupil of Lord St. Leonards,
and his school was that of Mr. Charles Butler
which had to a great degree discarded the mass
of verbiage, still too great, that defaced our con
veyances of land. I recollect seeing some forms
prepared by an eminent conveyancer of the oppo-

50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
site school, when transferred, on his retirement, to
Mr. Tyrrell, cut down to one-fourth of their
original dimensions. WhUst I was Avith Mr.
Tyrrell he prepared and pubhshed his suggestions
for the improvement of the law of real property,
the result of which Avas that Mr. Tyrrell was added
as a member to the already existing commission
upon the law of real property.
I was called to the Bar on November 27, 1827.
Lord Eldon had resigned the Seals but a short time
before,^ and Lord Gifford was dead.^ Lord Lynd
hurst was Chancellor, Sir John Leach Master of
the Eolls, and Sir Lancelot Shadwell Vice-Chan
ceUor. I occupied two rooms, part of a set of
chambers at No. 3 Old Square, on the ground
floor, which were sub-let to me by Mr. Wm.
Lowndes, the author of ' Lowndes on Legacies.' I
I had known Mr. Lowndes for some years, and felt
it to be a great advantage to hve in the same
chambers with one who, in addition to a sound
knowledge of law, was a first-rate scholar. He had
been a pupU of Dr. Parr's, and stUl cultivated clas
sical literature, and especially all that was con
nected Anth Greek philosophy. He wrote the ' Life
of Plato,' in the ' EncyclopEedia Metropohtana,' and
possessed an excellent hbrary, not only of ancient,
1 April 30, 1827.— Ed.
= He died September 4, 1826, aged only forty-eight. He was
Master of the Rolls at the time of his death, and, had he Uved, would
in all probability have become the successor of Lord Eldon. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 51
but also of modern authors, including some German
works, a language which, so far as reading it was
concerned, I had taught myself at Cambridge.
Both from the books and from the conversation of
Mr. LoAvndes I derived great benefit.
During the last year and a half of my study for
the Bar, I had also received much kindness from
the late Basil Montagu, Esq., and his admirable
Avife. I had been aUowed free access to their
home in Bedford Square on any evening I thought
fit to go, when it was their custom to receive those
who had this privUege from eight to ten. There I
sometimes met Irving, and Carlyle, and Procter,
then better known as Barry Cornwall ; and others
of an older hterary school, but less widely known :
also John Kemble and his gifted sister. Thursday
was the only day on which such receptions did not
take place, for every Thursday evening was spent
by Mr. and Mrs. Montagu at Highgate, in the
company of Coleridge. I had the privilege, through
Mr. Montagu's kindness, of frequently accompany
ing him on these pilgrimages, and I entertain most
Uvely recoUections of many an evening passed
there of the highest enjoyment and interest. It is
weU known that Coleridge poured out aU the
riches of his prodigious memory, and aU the poetry
of his briUiant imagination, to every hstener. I
was not only so addressed myself, but I heard the
whole of the poet-philosopher's favourite system of

52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Polarities — the Prothesis, the Thesis, the Mesothesis,
and Antithesis — showered down on a young lady of
seventeen, with as much unction as he afterwards
expounded it to Edward Irving. Iwas also present
at some discussions between Edward Irving and
Coleridge, on subjects of higher and hoher import,
in which the poetical temperament of Irving shone
forth, but not Avith the genial, all-embracing fervour
that distinguished Coleridge. At this time Mr.
Montagu was bringing out his edition of Lord
Bacon's works, and he requested me to undertake
the translation of the 'Novum Organum.' This T
did, and completed it in the year 1826, and was
always thankful for this opportunity of mastering
that wonderful work.^
Shortly after my caU to the Bar, I became weU
engaged in business as a conveyancer and equity
draftsman, partly owing to my father's being so
well known in the City, and partly to recommenda
tions from Mr. TyrreU to some of his chents when
he was too much engaged to undertake the work
himself. I remember standing in great awe of Sir
John Leach, the Master of the Eolls. The first
brief I held before him was merely a brief to ask
for the payment to executors of the small arrears
of an annuity (a few pounds), when the principal
sum was about to be paid out on the death of the
' This translation has been separately reprinted since both by
Pickering and others, and has been generally acknowledged to he the
best extant. —Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 53
annuitant to the parties entitled in remainder.
This at present is a matter of course. Then, in
strictness, a separate petition, costing more than
the money itself, Avas formally required. I simply
asked, as instructed, that this might be dispensed
with, and the money paid. The answer from the
Bench Avas, ' Sir, you might as well ask me to pay
it to the porter at Lincoln's Inn Gate.' Happily
there is not at the present day any necessity for
dreading such a reply, nor is it believed that there
is a judge who would make it.
The first occasion of my making any speech to
a Court, Avas before the House of Lords, in the case
of Westmeath v. Westmeath, where I was instructed
by Mr. Lock, the solicitor for Lady Westmeath,
and her infant daughter. Lady Eosa Nugent, to
appear for the latter. After two counsel had been
heard for Lady Westmeath, and Mr. Adam (who
was my leader) for Lady Eosa Nugent, the House
said they did not intend to hear any more counsel.
Mr. Adam (meaning it kindly) said his friend Mr.
Wood expected to be heard, and Lord Lyndhurst
with his usual courtesy and kind consideration for
young men said, ' Oh ! let us hear him then.' This
was an inauspicious beginning, but I got through
it tolerably AveU, and retained the confidence of Mr.
Lock as long as that gentleman continued in busi
ness. In the year 1827, just before my call to the

54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Bar, I happened to enter into conversation with
Monsieur (afterwards Baron) de Billing, then an
attache in the French Embassy, with reference to
the Battle of Navarino and the destruction of the
Turkish fleet by Eussia, France, and England. M.
de BiUing had long been a friend of mine. His
father, a gentleman of Alsace, was residing at Paris
in 1817, and was well known to my father, who
met him at the houses of the Liberal party. His
mother was an Enghsh lady ; and he spoke Enghsh
at this time with most remarkable fluency and
freedom from accent, so much so that he usually
passed for an Englishman in society. His son, the
present Baron de BUling, was now occupying the
same position at the French Embassy as his father
then had, and was equaUy remarkable for his com
mand of our language. M. de Billing was a man of
great intelligence, and at this early period was a
warm Free Trader, and supporter of constitutional
government. He and I agreed that it was a
mistake for the constitutional governments of
France and England to assist Eussia in weakening
Turkey, and that their pohcy should rather be
union between themselves in the support of Turkey
against Eussian aggression. M. de BiUing expressed
a wish that I should put my views into the shape
of a letter to be inserted in the ' Times,' he under
taking to show it to Mr. Barnes, the editor. In
compliance with this Avish I wrote a long letter

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 55
addressed lo Lord Goderich, and signed ' An
Enghshman.' [Tliis letter occupies three columns and a half
of very small type in the ' Times ' of January 9,
1828, and, the length of it being so great, I have
thought it sufficient to indicate its character
partly by extracts, partly by a summary of the
contents. It is entitled, ' A Letter to Lord Goderich
on the Necessity of a close AUiance between Eng
land, France, and the Netherlands.' When the
letter was pubhshed Lord Goderich had ceased to
be Premier ; but a note is prefixed to the letter
stating that it was written before his resignation
was considered probable, and that the writer now
addresses it to him as the recognised head of a
Liberal Ministry.
It is introduced by a quotation from the speech
of Queen IsabeUa in Shakspeare's ' Henry V.' act v.
scene 2.
So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal,
That never may ill office, or feU jealousy
Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms,
To make divorce of tiieir incorporate league ;
That English may as French, French Englishmen,
Receive each other ! God speak this Amen !
The letter begins by a severe criticism of the
Enghsh pohcy in the treaty of Vienna, in which the
dominant aim had been to depress France, instead
of strengthening her tendencies to a constitu;

56 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
tional government, and generaUy supporting those
countries which were inchned to what the writer
caUs the civihsing, as opposed to the despo'tic,
principle. Of the former principle HoUand and
the Netherlands were especiaUy representative, and
' by a lucky hit, in the fervour of our spleen against
France, we fell upon the fortunate expedient of
consohdating these two countries, and subjecting
them to a sovereign who appears worthy of the
important charge thus reposed in him.'
The arrangements made by the treaty of Vienna
for guarding the frontier of the Ehine, were also
unsatisfactory. The frontier of the Ehine de
manded the watchfulness of a mUitary Argus.
France and the Netherlands might have sufficed
for the duty, but Prussia and Austria were en
trusted with the most important fortresses. The
danger involved in this arrangement was not
imminent, as France and the Netherlands might
keep Austria and Prussia in check, but in the
distance lurked a much more powerful adversary.
' The wild ambition of Charles XTT. first introduced
the barbarous Asiatic hordes of Eussia into Europe ;
that of Napoleon has consolidated their power and
rendered them integral members of the great
European commonwealth ; yet notwithstanding that
the influence of commerce has communicated the
refinements of domestic life to the inhabitants of
St. Petersburg, and this influence has spread over

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 57
some of the Avestern parts of Eussian territory,
that vast empire must as yet, even in its most
favoured portions, be considered as scarcely
emerged from infancy. The feudal spirit yet pre
dominates ; and the cfrcumstances attending the
deposition of the present Emperor's father, and his
own accession to the throne, evince that want of
stabUity in the Government, which is a marked
characteristic of society at such an epoch.' By
the treaty of Vienna, however, instead of Eussia
being confined AA'ithin the bounds which had limited
her territory untU the treaty of Tilsit, Austria and
Prussia were compelled to submit whUst their
formidable neighbour crossed the Vistula and, by
taking possession of the Duchy of Warsaw, com
manded at once a direct road to Vienna and Berlin.
' From the Oder to the Ehine there is nothing
which can arrest her progress ; and were the
question proposed to Austria in her present un
developed condition, whether she would yield a
free passage to the tide of barbarism in preference
to the glory she inight obtain by a conflict on
behalf of civiUsation, there can, I fear, be little doubt
as to her choice.' This concession to Eussia, the
writer adds, was not merely vicious in principle,
but led to that disastrous and disgraceful train of
compensations (as they were termed) which had
stamped indelible disgrace upon our country.
' Some pretext was offered for the spoliation of

58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY'.
Saxony by the firm adherence of its sovereign to
the cause which he had espoused ; but the iin-
politic cession of the richest provinces of Italy to
Austria, and the cold-hearted barbarity which
sacrificed the unoffending and defenceless republic
of Genoa, leave room for only one consolatory
reflection in the proof they have afforded of the
sympathy which unites folly and wickedness, and
the confirmation of our behef in the opposite union
of Avisdom and virtue.' Thefeehngs of Frenchmen
had been exasperated by a continued attitude of
coldness and distrust on the part of the English
Government, combined with great severity of treat
ment, the enormous fine of 700 milhon francs
imposed upon her at the Congress of Aix, the tax
of 50 milhon francs to be paid to foreign troops,
and the periodical visits of the Duke of Wellington
to the Ehine fortresses.
On the other hand, our indifference to the
struggles for hberty in Spain and Naples — countries
in which the inert mass of ignorance and superstition
rendered those efforts as abortive as the convulsive
struggles of Enceladus beneath jEtna — had excited
the generous indignation of many Enghshmen ; and
our alhance with Austria and Eussia, after the reso
lutions taken at Troppau, Laybach, and Verona, was
felt to be as unnatural as the conjunction of the
dead with the Uving. The death of our diplomatic
Mezentius and the advent of Canning to power

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 59
opened a new and enhghtened era. In domestic
policy amendments of the law Avere effected which
had been advocated in vain by a Eomilly and a
Mackintosh. ' Principles of Free-trade opened a
ncAv career for talent, and prepared the Avay for
strengthening the tie of common interest, which can
alone bind natioti to nation in indissoluble friend
ship.' The Spanish colonies had been recognised in
America, prompt assistance had been given to Por
tugal against the efforts of drivelhng Spanish dotards.
There was some hope of Prussia obtaining a con
stitutional government. In Austria and Eussia,
on the other hand, nothing more could be antici
pated than the progress which the human mind
must eventually make from barbarism to civilisa
tion.' Then turning to the south-eastern part of
Europe upon which pubhc interest at that moment
was fixed, the singular spectacle presented itself
of a people invested by their rehgion, their language,
their past history, with the dearest and most
enthusiastic memories of enlightenment, yet now
groaning under the most execrable and debasing
tyranny. The estabhshment of Greece as an in
dependent or tributary republic, or the creation of
a monarchy on the ruins of the Mohammedan
Empire, would be an issue to which no one could
object. But the writer deprecated any attempt to
emancipate the Greeks by an aUiance with a

60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
despotic and half civihsed power, such as Eussia.
or Austria. The success of all future arrangements
for the settlement of that part of Europe must
depend upon a strict and cordial ' union between
the constitutional governments of Europe.' The
writer concludes by saying : ' I am too young to be
destitute of enthusiasm, and I dare to hope for a
period when the exertions of our country, which
have already diffused and protected civiUsation
throughout the whole extent of the new world,
may be hailed in the old with generous applause
and seconded by the ardour of surrounding nations,
till the fuU tide of civiUsation be poured over
every part of the inhabited globe, and, traversing
the empfres of Austria and Eussia, may meet Avith
that current which already circulates around the
southern part of the eastern continent, until des ¦
potism no longer knows where to find a resting-
place.' The contents of this letter scarcely bear out
the statement made by the writer many years after
wards in his Autobiography, quoted above (p. 55),
that he ' advocated a union between France and
England to support Turkey against Eussian aggres
sion.' It seems rather to advocate the support of
constitutional government in all parts ofthe world,
and to express a jealousy and suspicion of a des
potic power hke Eussia taking part in the emanci
pation of Greece from the thraldom of Turkish

AUTOBIOGR.VPIIY. 61
tyranny. No doubt there was a time subsequent
to this Avhen the Avriter thought, in common with
many other eminent men and some distinguished
statesmen, that the Turks Avere capable of reform,
and that it Avas the interest of this ('ountry to
protect the Ottoman Empire. He lived long
enough, howcA^er, to become completely disabused
of this faUacy, and to ridicule what he caUed ' the
Eussian scare ' as pusUlanimous and ill-founded.]
Mr. Barnes, the editor of the ' Times,' expressed
great satisfaction with the letter, and requested me
to caU upon him. Editors of the ' Times ' did not
mix so much in general society then as they do in
the present day. But Mr. Barnes was a scholar
who had received a University education, and,
though not Avell acquainted Avith the draAping-rooms
of London, was intimately acquainted with pubhc
affairs. I found him in his modest habitation in
Nelson Square, Southwark, and he asked me
whether I should be wilhng to undertake writing
for the press, assuring me of success in so doing,
but kindly adding that it would interfere with my
prospects at the Bar if I was really disposed to
devote myself to that profession. On mature re
flection I dechned the proposal, but felt encouraged
by it in my exertions for self-support, and grateful
for the candid advice given me by a man of such
ripe experience.
In the year 1828, the flrst year in which I

62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
practised, a whoUy new business had arisen conse
quent on the passing of the Liverpool and Man
chester Eailway Bill in 1827. The Parliamentary
Bar was then a comparatively small body. Those,
indeed, who confined themselves to practising before
one or other of the two branches of the Legisla
ture, might be said to be only two or three, Mr.
Harrison and Mr. Adam being the two leaders,
The principal business before committees had been
upon contested elections, with occasional contests
on canals, roads, harbours, and market biUs, or
upon competing schemes for supplying towns with
water or gas. But the passing of the Liverpool
and Manchester Eailway Bill was the signal for
larger speculations which have since resulted in
the prodigious development of railway traffic.
I received my first ParUamentary brief to
support, with Mr. Harrison as my leader, a new
branch of the Stockton and Darhngton Eailway.
The railway was then traversed by cars drawn by
horses, and had been the earhest used for passenger
traffic by that method. The intent of the bill was
to increase the coal traffic to the river Tees, and it
was vehemently opposed by Lord Wharnchffe,
Lord Durham, and other coal owners on the river
Wear. Amongst other objections Lord Wharnchffe
suggested before the committee of the Lords,
through Mr. (afterwards Baron) Alderson, that
according to the weU-known case of Natusch v.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY'. 63
Irving, decided by Lord Eldon, a company formed
for one purpose could not use its funds for an
extended plan of operation. I was left to fight the
battle AAdth Mr. Alderson, and contended that the
rule had no apphcation to the case of a corporate
body applying to Parhament for an extension of its
powers. The committee requested Lord Eldon to
be good enough to attend one of their meetings,
and he decided in favour of my view. This decision
led Lord Wharnchffe to introduce the well-known
standing order which bears his name, by which no
new apphcation can be made to Parliament by an
existing company for extended powers, unless 'three-
fourths of the proprietors, present at a meeting
convened for the purpose, sanction the application.
From this time I became extensively engaged
in Parhamentary practice, and so continued till
the year 1841. I did not, however, neglect my
business in Chancery, which continued to increase ;
for I always entertained a hope of sitting in Parha
ment, which is inconsistent with Parliamentary
practice as a barrister, but had resolved not to do so
till I was in independent circumstances as to fortune.
The changes which I personaUy witnessed in
pubUc opinion on the subject of raUways were re
markable. At first the landowners opposed every
hne which passed through thefr property : within
six years they objected to every hne which did not
pass through their property. In 1828 I Avas

64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
counsel for a company who proposed to make a
hne from London to BlackwaU. The project was
scouted as ridiculous, and unceremoniously re
jected. In 1836 I was again counsel for a similar
line against two competing lines, the only doubt
being which of the three should pass. The com
mittees also happily underwent great improve
ments. At first any member might attend, five
being a quorum. It was a common practice for
the five to enter and put down their names every
morning and retire, leaAdng a chairman to hear all
the evidence for many days alone ; and then per
haps thirty or forty members would come to vote
on the preamble. Sir Eobert Peel first reformed
these proceedings, which have graduaUy assumed a
far less objectionable shape.
In 1829 a very long contest took place on the
bill promoted by the corporation of London for
making the approaches to London Bridge, and for
raising funds for that purpose by continuing cer
tain taxes on coals brought to the port of London.
The bill was vehemently opposed by the coal-
owners, especially in the House of Lords, and
only carried by the perseverance of the Duke of
Wellington, then Prime Minister, who, with six of
his colleagues, attended daily, and, on finding that
delay was the aim of the opponents, actually
obtained the leave of the Crown to keep Parlia
ment sitting till the bill should be disposed of.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 65
During these proceedings I had frequent oppor
tunities, both in conversation and in the course of
the examination of Avitnesses, of observing and
admfring the cool judgment and penetration of the
Duke of Welhngton. He would examine witnesses,
who came to depose to the inconveniences of the
proposed approaches, respecting the length of a
Avaggon and horses, of a load of timber and the
Uke, and the space required for turning, and con
stantly corrected their imperfect and inaccurate
knowledge of these subjects.
At the close of the session of 1829 I found my
way sufficiently clear to justify me in taking a
step which I had long ardently desired to take.
I became engaged to my present wife, Charlotte,
the daughter of the late Major Moor of the Bombay
army, author of the ' Hindu Pantheon,' and many
other works on interesting Indian subjects.-^ Major
' Major Moor entered the Indian army as a cadet before he was
twelve years old. The date was fixed in his memory by the fact of his
having witnessed the sinking of the ' Royal George ' at Spithead in
1782 while embarking with his fellow cadets at Portsmouth.
From this early age he educated and maintained himself by his
own exertions. He served under Lord Corn walUs in the first campaign
against Tippoo Sahib. At the age of nineteen he was wounded by a
buUet which lodged in his elbow-joint and could never be extracted.
This injury ultimately compeUed him to give up field duty and to
take service in the Commissariat. Having returned to England on
furlough at the age of twenty-one, he pubUshed in a quarto volume his
' Narrative of Captain Little's Detachment ' which gave the first clear
account of Mysore, and Tippoo Sahib's government. The book is
repeatedly cited with much praise by Mill in his ' History of British

66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
Moor resided on his property at Great Beahngs,
near Woodbridge, in Suffolk, and I had been more
or less acquainted from childhood with my future
wife. We were married on January 5, 1830. Just
before my marriage I went to reside in Dean's
Yard, Westminster, where I continued to live till
the year 1844. My business steadily increased,
both in Chancery and Parliamentary practice ; but
in 1836 an event occurred which, after occasioning
much anxiety to me and my family, resulted in
making me independent of my profession, and led
to my entering on a Parhamentary career.
In the year above mentioned died Mr. James
Wood, of Gloucester, an eccentric man, who con-
India.' On his return to India Mr. Moor entered the Commissariat at
Bombay and suppUed the army of Sir Arthur WeUesley on its march
to Assaye. The energy and efficiency with which he discharged this
duty are acknowledged in the pubUshed ' WeUington Correspondence.'
About this time he suggested to the Indian Government the planting
ofthe potato in Mysore, having noticed that the soU of that region was
favourable to the plant. He selected and sent the potatoes for this
purpose, and their introduction has saved the people of Mysore from
more than one famine when there has been a faUure of the rice crop.
He further employed his leisure in researches concerning the history
and hterature of India. His 'Hindu Pantheon,' illustrated from
his collection of bronze idols, is stiU considered a standard work on
Indian Mythology ; and he was the first to disclose some of the most
terrible social disorders of India in his treatise on ' Hindu Infanticide.'
On his final return to England at the age of thirty-seven he settled on
his own property in his native county of Suffolk, and acted for forty
years as a county magistrate ; occasionally visiting London to attend
meetings of the Royal Society, of which he was a Fellow, and of other
learned bodies. — Ed.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 67
ducted business as a banker and draper, and by
parsimonious habits had accumulated a property
of about a miUion sterling. He left a Avill by
whicll he gave aU his property to four individuals
whom he appointed his executors. One of them
was the son of a lady of the name of Sermon,
supposed to be his sole next of kin. This lady
was his second cousin, and her son had been ap
prenticed to Mr. Wood. The other executor was
Mr. Osburne, who had been for twenty years or
more Mr. Wood's confidential clerk ; the third was
Mr. Chadburne, his sohcitor ; and the fourth was
my father. Some years before this time Mrs.
Ehzabeth Wood, a maiden sister of Mr. James
Wood, also residing in Gloucester, but not Avith
her brother, had Avritten to my father expressing
her admiration of his conduct in reference to
Queen Carohne, and desfring him to become her
almoner, and to recommend such charities as he
thought worthy of support. He knew nothing
whatever at that time either of her or her brother,
but answered her letter, and from time to time
named several charities to which she contributed ;
and on one occasion, happening to pass through
Gloucester, he caUed on her, and then heard for
the first time of her brother's existence. In the
year 1823 or 1824 Mrs. E. Wood died, and it
was found that she had left her house in Gloucester
to my father for his hfe, Avith remainder to his

68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
youngest son. Western Wood, whom she had never
seen, but who happened once accidentaUy in his
father's absence to have answered one of her
letters. The bulk of her property she left to
Master Stratford, one of the Masters in Chancery.
My father was invited to attend her funeral, which
he accordingly did ; and on that occasion Mr.
James Wood, to whom the deceased had left
nothing, asked to be introduced to him. My
father naturaUy supposed, from what he had heard
of Mr. Wood's habits, that the latter would have
been annoyed at his sister's disposition of her pro
perty, and especially of the house, which was worth
about 1,200/. On the contrary, however, he ex
pressed his great satisfaction at the gift, and his
admiration of my father's conduct in reference to
Queen Caroline ; and a Avish that he would oc
casionally visit Gloucester. In the autumn of
1824 my father took his family to the Spa at
Gloucester, and having examined the house that
had been devised to him in this singular manner,
found it so good and substantial that it might
easily be converted into a residence for some
months in the year.
On the very evening of the first arrival of my
father with his family at Gloucester, Mr. James
Wood called, and I then saw him for the first
time. Nothing could exceed the warmth of his
demonstrations ; and from that time, whenever my

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 69
father A'isited Gloucester, Mr. Wood showed him
every civility, and, indeed, gave in his honour the
only entertainment he was known to have given
in his life, at which I was present.
It was not, therefore, a surprise to any one that
James Wood should have included my father
amongst his devisees. In fact, he had on more
than one occasion mentioned his intention to cus
tomers at his bank, who were anxious to know
what would become of his property at his decease,
it being weU known that he had no near relative,
and that, if he died Avithout a wiU, there might be
delay in winding up his affairs. The proof of this
was of great value afterwards in the litigation that
ensued. UnhappUy the Avill was prepared by the sohcitor
who was himself benefited under it. Unhappily,
also, this sohcitor was misled into other acts, after
the testator's death, which threw suspicion on the
document itself ; and this led to a Utigation, and to
a most extraordinary and successful forgery of a
codicU, as to the forging of which neither I nor
my father ever entertained the smallest doubt. But
the history of the transaction is too recent for an
exposition of all its remarkable circumstances.
It must suffice to say here that after Sir Herbert
Jenner, as Judge of the Court of Probate, had re
jected both the AvUl and the codicil, the Privy
CouncU estabhshed both. In the meantime bills

70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
in Chancery, injunctions, and all the usual course
of law proceedings that takes place when a large
stake is concerned, occurred.
The will and codicil were rejected in 1839, es
tablished in 1841, and a final decision as to the
largest legacy in the spurious codicil was given ad
versely to the claimants of it by the House of Lords
after my father's death. The time was a very
trying one to myself, as upon me devolved the
responsibility of privately advising my father in
the litigation. The total costs must have been
nearly 100,000/. on all sides, the bulk of which
inight have fallen upon my father to his aU but
ruin. Happily, however, he never swerved in his
confidence in the cause, and his determination to
contest it to the last.
In 1837, before there was any notion of a serious
contest about the avUI (for my father was ignorant of
any possibihty of misconduct being imputed to the
sohcitor or any one else), he had accepted a baro
netcy offered to him most handsomely by Lord Mel
bourne, and one of the first honours conferred by
her present Majesty. Lord Melbourne told my
father, amongst other things, that her Majesty was
aAvare that she owed her birth in this country to
his suggestion. He and Lord Darnley, in fact, re
ceived the whole of the Duke of Kent's revenues
in trust for his creditors, the Duke, from the most
honourable motives, retiring to Brussels, and re-

AUTOBIOGRAPHY'. 71
ceiving but a small amount of income. Owing to
his Liberal politics he had never enjoyed the ad
vantages of office conferred on other members of
the Eoyal family, yet his debts Avere trifling com
pared Avitli those of the Duke of York. My
father, hearing that there Avas a prospect of the
Duke having a family, Avrote to him at Brussels
to suggest his remoAdng to England before the
bfrth of the child who might probably become
sovereign of this country. The Duke rephed that
a considerable sum would be necessary to enable
him to make tliis change. No funds Avere in hand,
and my father suggested to Lord Darnley that they
two should give their personal bond to Messrs.
Coutts for an advance to the Duke, taking their
chance of his hAdng long enough to enable them
to be repaid out of income. The Duke and the
Duchess were enabled by this means to come to
England, and the advance was only just repaid
at the time of the Duke's premature death.
The acceptance of a title rendered the vexation
occasioned by the decision of Sir Herbert Jenner
about the disputed A\dll all the more trying. My
father, however, bore the announcement which I
made to him of that adverse event with his ac
customed extraordinary coolness and self-possession.
He went to the House of Commons that day, and
several persons observed his manner to be as calm
as usual. His only remark to me was, ' Well, we

72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
are right, and we shall have justice at last.' I
happened myself, after hearing and communicating
the judgment, -to be obhged to argue a case of
some difficulty before a Master in Chancery that
day, and I have often recollected with pleasure
that, though not possessed of my father's cool
temperament, I argued it successfully.
I recommended my father to secure the services
of the late Lord Campbell (then Attorney-General)
and of Lord Kingsdown, on the appeal to the Privy
CouncU, and it was greatly owing to their wonder
fully acute and searching examination of the facts
that justice was done as to the atUI. The success
of the codicil remains as an example of marveUous
audacity rewarded.
I went to the Privy Council in great anxiety to
hear the judgment. My father was at Hatherley,
in Gloucestershire. As soon as the result was
known, I set off and traveUed by rail as far as
Cirencester, whence I had to post, and arrived at
my father's house at half-past eleven at night. He
was in bed and asleep, though he knew that the
judgment was to be given that day. When I had
roused him and informed him of the result, he
simply remarked, ' I knew justice must be done.'
When told of the success of the codicil he expressed
surprise, but no more, and quickly fell asleep

again.

In this year (1841) a considerable change was

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 73
made in the constitution of the Court of Chancery.
Two additional Vice-ChanceUors were created, and
I found myself compelled to determine whether I
Avould give up practising before committees in
Parliament , or practising in Chancery ; for the
junior counsel in Chancery, having to foUow their
pleadings to whatever Court the cause might
be attached, were compeUed to practise in five
Courts, besides the Court of Appeal, and this of
course was impossible to combine Avith Parhament
ary work. I had never relaxed my hold on
Chancery business, and, though the Parhamentary
business was three or four times more lucrative, I
now resolved entirely to abandon it. This I did,
and in the very first year my Chancery business
was doubled.
In September 1844 my father died. Shortly
before this I had apphed to Lord Lyndhurst in the
usual manner for a silk gown. I felt that my
business at this time fully justified me in so doing,
and I was not a Uttle annoyed when I was passed
over, my junior, Mr. Parker (afterwards Vice-
ChanceUor), being appointed. On my father's
decease my duties as his executor were very heavy,
and rendered the burthen of Chancery draAving
insupportable. I mentioned to Vice-ChanceUor
Wigram my intention to have practised in his
Court had the honour of Queen's Counsel been
conferred upon me, and the necessity I felt of

74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
retiring from the Bar, if I were obliged to remain
an equity draftsman, owing to the duties devolving
upon me as my father's executor. Up to the time
of my father's decease I had not received any
income from any source whatever, since my caU
to the Bar, except my professional earnings, but I
had now become, although not rich, independent
of my profession. The Vice-ChanceUor Wigram
most kindly mentioned the matter to Sir W.
FoUett, then Attorney-General, and he with equal
kindness spoke to Lord Lyndhurst. Lord Lynd
hurst immediately expressed his regret at what
had occurred, saying it was entirely by inadvert
ence, and promised that on an early occasion the
patent of Queen's Counsel should be granted.
This promise was fulfilled in February 1845, and
from the date of my appointment till I became
Sohcitor-General I confined my practice entirely to
Vice-ChanceUor Wigram's Court and the Court of
Appeal, and was then, usually opposed to Mr.
(afterwards Sir John) EomiUy, which was the
commencement of a warm friendship between us.
Shortly after the termination of the Parha
mentary session of 1847 a vacancy was expected
in the representation of the city of Oxford owing to
the bankruptcy of one of the members which had
occurred in the previous year. It was competent
for any member to move for a new writ on the
expiration of a year from a member's bankruptcy ;

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 75
but as it Avas the sixth year of Parliament, and a
dissolution was certain, no one liked to come for
ward as a candidate Avith the chance of having to
undergo tAvo elections in the course of one year.
It was suggested to me that this afforded an
opening for a new man ; but the Liberal member
was firm in his seat, being justly beloved and
respected, and no one recollected an instance of
two Liberals being returned for the city of Oxford.
Moreover, there was a prejudice against any two
candidates coalescing, so that a fresh Liberal can
didate would have to rely on the least known
supporters of Liberal principles as the promoters
ofhis interests. I went down, however, to Oxford,
where I was up to that time unknown, and was
warmly received by Mr. Alderman Sadler, the
chairman of Mr. Langston's committee, who told
me he could only introduce me to some gentlemen
to act as the committee of a new candidate, and
could himseK do no more than give me his vote.
I thus found myself brought face to face with a
committee composed of the most advanced Liberals,
amongst whom was a dissenting minister. I felt
no difficulty as to my pohtical principles, as I had
always been a warm friend to a large extension of
the suffrage, and vote by baUot ; but my Church
principles, which were decided, might, I felt, be used
against me. I at once told my proposed committee
that there must be a clear understanding upon aU

76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
points before I came forward ; that probably they
would hear me called a Puseyite, which I was not,
for I declined to follow any individual's views ; but
that my most valued friend was Dr. Hook, of Leeds,
and that our sentiments on most Church matters
coincided. I further told them that in my address
I should avow my attachment to the Church, and
at the same time state my entire disapproval of
any political disabUity whatever founded on the
rehgious opinions of the citizen of a free country ;
that, in fact, in Scotland I should be a dissenter
from the Estabhshed Church, and should object
strongly to being Uable to political disabUities if
residing there.
I had constant reason to rejoice at this exphcit- :
ness. As it happened, Parhament was dissolved
Avithout a new writ being moved for Oxford, and
I had but the one election, and that Avithout
opposition. I was twice afterwards elected — once
on accepting the office of Solicitor-General, and
again in the general election in 1852, and in each
case without opposition ; and the Liberal party
have ever since returned a sound Liberal candidate
with their old representative, Mr. Langston.
ParUament met in November 1847. The first
words which I spoke in the House were in a debate
which arose the foUoAving month upon the func
tions of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, and from
that time I never failed to stand forward to avow

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 77
my deep attachment to the Church. On Sir J.
Trelawney's motion for the repeal of Church-rates
in 1849 I moved and divided the House on a
resolution to allow the Dissenters voluntarily to
exempt themselves by declaration, and I always
refused to support abolition as a direct step towards
abohshing the Estabhshed Church.
I resisted the biU proposed for allowing the
marriage of a man with his deceased wife's sister
in a speech made on February 29, 1850, the only
speech of mine which has ever been printed ; and
on June 5, 1850, in a debate on education, I
defended the National Society and upheld the
doctrine that rehgion alone had promoted education
in this country, and that the Church had taken far
the largest and most active share of that duty.
This I maintained in opposition to what I conceived
to be an utterly unfounded notion that rehgious
differences impeded pubhc education.
But, on the other hand, I never hesitated to
uphold complete political freedom independently
of religious opinion. I did this on several occa
sions when it was proposed to modify the oaths of
members, but chiefly in support of the rights of
Jews to citizenship. The earhest speech which I
made of any length was on the second reading of
the biU brought in by Lord John Eussell for
admitting the Jews to Parliament (February 7,
1848). I afterwards, on June 12, 1850, moved for

78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
and obtained a select committee to inquire into pre
cedents as to the oaths of members, and to inquire
into the mode of administering oaths in Courts of
Justice. On this committee — over which I, as
mover, presided — Lord John Eussell, Sir Eobert
Peel, Mr. C. Wynne and other eminent members
sat ; and upon the strength of their report, which
merely related the state of the several Acts of
Parliament, and the precedents, especiaUy that of
the admission of Mr. Pease, the Quaker, on his
affirmation, and the rule of Courts of Justice
alloAving every man to swear by what is most
binding on his conscience, I, on July 26, 1850,
together with Mr. John Abel Smith, took Baron
Eothschild (who had been tAvice elected for the
City of London) to the table of the House of
Commons. Here he took upon the Old Testament
the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, which do
not contain the words ' on the true faith of a
Christian,' and he then proceeded to take the oath
of abjuration, omitting the words ' on the true
faith of a Christian.' This being done, I moved
that Baron EothschUd be allowed to take his seat.
My argument was founded upon the fact that the
Baron had sworn in the only way which could
bind him ; that the law distinguishes between the
matter to which the deponent pledges his oath, and
the mode in which he pledges it ; that the whole
history of the introduction of the oath of abjuration,

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 79'
and especially the enactment that a person sitting
in Parliament Avithout taking it is ' to be deemed a
Popish recusant convict,' showed that it could not
have been intended for any person other than those
professing the Christian rehgion. I still beheve
the argument to be sound, although it has since
been otherwise decided by the ' House of Lords,'
mainly owing to special enactments in relief of
Jews from this oath having been made on special
occasions. I was comphmented on all sides for
the speech, but the House dechned to adopt the
view. Nevertheless, these discussions, it may be
hoped, had some effect in tending to the ultimate
abohtion from the Statute-book of the last frag
ment of persecution.
I also brought in and passed on two occasions
a biU for rehcAdng scrupulous persons who were
not Quakers, Moravians, or Separatists, from being
sworn in Courts of Justice, and to substitute an
affirmation Avith the usual penalties of perjury, as
in the case of Quakers and others. This bill was
rejected each time in the House of Lords ; but the
principle has since become law, as part of the
Common Law Procedure Act.
I did not hesitate also to support my political
views as a reformer. I voted on all occasions for
reform to the extent of household suffrage. I
spoke and voted more than once in favour of the
baUot, and in March, 1848, I spoke and voted for

80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the repeal of the game laws. My earliest success,
however, in the House of Commons, was in Feb
ruary 1848. Mr. Eolt had been an independent
Conservative candidate for Stamford in opposition
to the two nominees of the Marquis of Exeter, but
had failed. A petition was signed by one-third of
aU the electors complaining that the electors on
this and every occasion had been so coerced by the
Marquis that they prayed to be disfranchised.
Mr. Eolt asked me if I would bring this petition
before the House. I did so, and moved that it
should be referred to a select committee. This
was on February 12, 1848. I was tken compara
tively unknown, and in opening my motion I was
supported and cheered only by members below
the gangway which separates the more adA'anced
Liberals from the supporters of a Liberal Govern
ment. However, Lord John EusseU at length rose,
and stated that the case was brought forward Avith
such moderation, and was in itself so strong, that
he must support the motion. Sir Eobert Peel was
greatly annoyed at this, and answered Lord John
in a speech of some irritation, in which he, from
error, misstated some legal propositions. I availed
myself of this in my reply, which was loudly
cheered by the whole Ministerial side of the House,
and the motion was carried by a majority of one.
The Government, however, referred the nomination
of the committee to the Committee of Selection on

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 81
Private Bills, and I obtained a committee of nine, in
which Mr. Horsman alone went heartily with me.
Mr. Henley, Sir John Pakington, Mr. Stuart Wortley,
and other strong Conservatives were thus opposed,
in reahty, only by myself and Mr. Horsman, though
some rather moderate Liberals were also on the
committee. Three elections were gone into, and
the committee unanimously reported that, regard
being had to Avhat had previously occurred, they
were satisfied the electors had voted under vmdue
bias and constraint. Nothing more, however,
could be done than to give this useful hint to the
Marquis ; and, indeed, I was myself unable to give
fuU attention to the committee, owing to the death
of my mother whUst it was sitting.
In May 1849 Mr. Horace Twiss, Vice-ChanceUor
of the County Palatine of Lancaster, died. This
Court exercises free equitable jurisdiction to any
amount where the property and the htigants are
in the county ; but there were so many impediments
arising from its antiquated and unreformed state
that it had become all but a sinecure. Lord
CampbeU, then Chancellor of the Duchy, with whom
the appointment of the Vice-ChanceUor rested,
Avrote to me to ask if I would undertake the office
Avith a view to its reform. I replied at once that
this was the only condition on which I would
accept it, and that I must be allowed to resign if a
bUl for its reformation could not be passed. The
Vol. L G

82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
salary was 600/. a year, which for a sinecure was
just that amount too much ; in fact, it came out of
Her Majesty's privy purse, as the surplus funds of
the Duchy form part of her private revenues.
I succeeded in passing a biU which had been
prepared some time before by Master Duckworth,
but had failed, being opposed by Sir E. Sugden,
then in the House of Commons. This draft was
brought up to the existing date, and the Court has
worked well ever since. I resigned the office when
I was appointed Solicitor-General in 1851, and was
succeeded in it by Mr. BetheU, afterwards Lord
Westbury. On February 21, 1851, Mr. Locke King, in a
thin House, carried by 100 to 52 against the Govern
ment his bUl for extending the franchise in coun
ties to 10/. a year occupiers. The Conservatives
purposely absented themselves. I had voted in
the majority : Lord John Eussell resigned ; but, on
Lord Derby's faUure to form a Government, he
returned to office. Shortly afterwards Lord Lang-
dale retired from the duties of Master of the EoUs,
and the Attorney-General, Sir John EomUly, suc
ceeded him. To my very great surprise I was
asked to caU on Lord John Eussell on the subject
of succeeding to the office of Sohcitor-General.
Lord John received me very cordially and said : ' I
ought to tell you at once that I intend to bring in
a bUl for extensive reforms, otherwise I should not

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 83
have made you this offer.' I replied I was very
glad he had said this, as I should not otherwise
have accepted the office. In truth I felt very
strongly on the subject; and the Chartist movement
in 1848, although abortive, had exhibited very ugly
symptoms. Even the large body of workmen
employed on the Houses of Parhament, 300 or more
in number, had declined to be sworn in as special
constables, saying they would not go out against
' their order,' though they would preserve the
property from harm. Many hke circumstanc'es
had come to my knowledge on the memorable
AprU 10, 1848,^ when, together with the late Mr.
Brunei, I had the command of the special constables
who were entrusted Avith the protection of the
streets between Great George Street and Downing
Street, both inclusive, the whole of the district
being under the late Honourable John Talbot, Q.C.
In March 1851 I thus became Sohcitor-
General, and about the same time began acting
vigorously on a commission, of which Sir John
EomUly, when Attorney-General, had procured the

' The day fixed by the Chartists for carrying their monster
petition in a vast procession from Kennington Common to the House
of Commons. Half a miUion persons were expected to join in the pro
cession, and the public were fiUed with apprehensions of violence.
London was guarded by a strong body of special constables, besides
police and miUtary, and the intended procession was proclaimed
iUegal. Deterred by these preparations the Chartists abstained from
attempting to execute their plan. — Ed.
G2

84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
appointment, for reforming the Court of Chancery.
The present Lord ChanceUor Lord Westbury, Lord
Justice Turner, Mr. (afterwards Vice-ChanceUor)
Parker, Mr. W. James, and others, took more or
less active parts in that commission, of which Mr.
Chapman Barber was the effective secretary. Sir
James Graham and Mr. Henley were also most
useful assistants as members of the commission to
the professional members of it. Sir John Eomilly
presided. The effects of that commission are well
kilown to the profession. The expense and delay
of the Court have been prodigiously diminished,
especially by the abolition of the Masters' offices.
The Master of the Eolls and the three Vice-Chan
ceUors, Avith the assistance of thefr chief clerks, now
do the whole work formerly performed by ten
Masters and their chief clerks, and do it much
more speedily. The procedure also was greatly
improved. Sir John EomiUy had before this
passed an Act for improving equitable procedure
in Ireland, and had introduced and carried the
Encumbered Estates Bill for that country which
has worked a social revolution of inestimable value
there. As Sohcitor-General, under the direction of Lord
Truro as Lord ChanceUor, I had caused the bUls
to be prepared by Mr. Chapman Barber which,
owing to the resignation of Lord John EusseU's
Government, were afterwards passed during the

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 85
ChanceUorship of Lord St. Leonards, who gave the
weight of his hearty concurrence to the proposed
measures. In like manner the Act for the amendment of
the Patent Law, which had been prepared by Sir
A. Cockburn, as Attorney-General, and myself as
Sohcitor-General, and which actually passed the
Commons in 1851, was again brought forward and
carried by the new Government in 3852.
WhUst I was Solicitor-General a meeting of aU
the equity judges and of distinguished members of
the Bar was held at Lord Truro's, when it was
resolved to found a new Court of Appeal in
Chancery, and to estabhsh two new judges, to be
caUed Lords Justices of Appeal, who, together with
the ChanceUor, should form the fuU Court, whilst
the two Lords Justices together, or the Chancellor
alone, could sit as a separate Court. This bill I
brought in and carried, and also a bill for abolish
ing several superfluous offices of the Court of
Chancery. In the spring of 1852 Lord John Eussell
resigned office,^ and I of course ceased to be
Sohcitor-General. Shortly before Christmas in that
year, Lord Derby having resigned, a new Ministry
was formed by Lord Aberdeen. I went into the
country for my Christmas holidays, not having
' The Government was defeated by a majority of eleven in a
division on the Militia Bill, — Ed.

86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
expected to be offered any connexion with the new
mixed Government ; but in the middle of the night
I received a message from Lord Aberdeen request
ing to see me immediately in town. On visiting
the Earl I was offered the option of the Solicitor-
Generalship, which Lord Aberdeen said he should
prefer, or the vacant Vice-Chancellorship occasioned
by Lord Cranworth, the Vice-ChanceUor, accepting
the Great Seal. Lord Aberdeen added that Lord
John Eussell had wished him to make the latter
offer. The fact is that Lord Truro had previously
offered me the Vice-ChanceUorship which was
afterwards accepted by Vice-ChanceUor Parker,
and I had been disposed to accept it, having found
the work of SoUcitor-General almost too much for
my health, and a great interference Avith all domestic
comfort . I spoke to Lord John Eussell on the subj ect,
who requested me not to give up the Solicitor-
Generalship, and I at once said that a word from
Lord John (for whom I always entertained the deepest
respect) was enough. On his OAvn resignation
Lord John wrote me a kind note, expressing regret
for his interference, and with equal kindness begged
Lord Aberdeen to renew the offer of the Vice-
Chancellorship, which I accepted, and was sworn
in just before HUary Term 1853. In truth my
Solicitor-Generalship had been rendered speciaUy
irksome by my having for forty-eight nights to
fight the battle of the Ecclesiastical Titles BiU

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 87
against the Lish members. I heartily approved of
the biU, and thought, and stiU think, it was a most
becoming declaration of national adherence to the
faith ; but the irksomeness was occasioned by the
mode in which the warfare Avas carried on by some
of the Irish members, and its protracted duration.^
I have noAv sat for nearly eleven years on the
Bench, during wliich time I have had to decide
many arduous and important cases. On one occa
sion only have I written my judgment. My reason
for dehvering unwritten j udgments is twofold :
first, that I find such writing to be positively
injurious to my health ; and, secondly, that the delay
which it would occasion would be more injurious
to the suitor than could be compensated by any
supposed clearness in the judgment.
I did not think it proper to notice the remarks
made upon my judgments in this respect by a Lord
ChanceUor, for the tone ofthe remarks rendered any
notice undesfrable ; and on principle I stiU adhere
to the practice of dehvering unAfritten judgments.
' This bill was occasioned by what was commonly caUed the
Papal Aggression, whioh consisted in a decree of the Pope for
dividing England into dioceses, to be ruled by bishops taking their
titles from English to-wns. The biU prohibited the assumption of
these titles. The first reading was earned by a majority of 332, and
the second by a majority of 343. It was stubbornly contested in
committee, as mentioned above, by the Irish members, and by some
Conservatives who thought it did not go far enough. The third
reading was carried hy a majority of 217. See also Life of Br.
Sook, vol. i. p. 287 sq., and 456 small edition. — Ed.

88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
[The remarks here referred to were made by
Lord Chancellor CampbeU in December 1860, in
giving judgment upon an appeal from the decision
of Vice-ChanceUor Wood in the case of Burch v.
Bright. The case is described in the ' Saturday
Eeview ' for December 29, as one which ' arose out
qf a partnership dispute, in which comphcated
accounts had to be gone into Avith reference to the
working of certain patents, the different partners
taking very diverse views and giAdng very conflict
ing evidence as to the understandings and agree
ments by which their interests in the patents were
to be determined. The whole dispute was one of
those tangled and tfresome wrangles to which no
one but a judge could endure to listen. The Vice-
ChanceUor made a decree deciding some of the
disputed points and referring others for further
inquiry ; and this decree Lord CampbeU affirmed
in every particular, holding, not only that the
results which were arrived at were correct, but
that in leaving the remaining matters to abide the
issue of further investigation, the Vice-ChanceUor
had taken the only course which the state of the
evidence left open to him.'
The comments which the Lord Chancellor made
upon the form of the Vice-Chancellor's judgment
were to the following effect. ' I am of opinion that
the decree appealed against in these suits ought to
be affirmed without any variation. I think that

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 89
by the declaration Avhich it contains, and the
inquiries Avhich it dfrects, complete justice will
be done between the parties. I have come to
this conclusion after attentively hstening to the
able arguments at the Bar addressed to me on
either side, after having carefully perused the
Avritten pleadings, the depositions, and the multi
farious documents in evidence, and after having
laboriously traveUed through the decree and the
judgment of the Vice-ChanceUor, occupying forty-
sis pages of a huge quarto volume closely written.
Considering my long experience as a judge and
the position which, however unworthily, I have the
honour to fiU, perhaps I may Avithout impropriety
venture to say, Avith the most profound and sincere
respect for Vice-ChanceUor Wood, that I should
have disposed of this appeal, not only with less
labour to myself but more satisfactorily and more
confidently, had hisjudgment been more condensed.
My attention has been diverted from the main
question in the case by elaborate and minute dis
quisitions as to the bearing of contradictory evi
dence on subordinate points, and by following the
devious paths by which the final conclusion is at
last reached. Judgments of such prodigious length,
instead of settling, have a tendency to unsettle the
law, and instead of sending away the defeated
party contented, I can say from my own experience
since I have presided in this Court that they rather

90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
generate appeals. For although the decree be
right, some of the various reasons given for it may
be questionable, and a false hope is excited that,
impugning these, the decree may be reversed. The
verdicts of juries are generally acquiesced in,
perhaps because they are given without reasons.
An equity judge who has to determine questions
of fact cannot follow this course, but there is no
necessity for his stating from his tribunal aU that
passed through his mind during his deliberations,
with all his doubts and his waverings. I AviU
further venture to declare my hearty concurrence
in the opinion frequently expressed by one of the
most distinguished of my predecessors (Lord
Brougham), that when, on account of the import
ance and difficulty of the case, judges after having
heard it argued at the Bar take tirhe to consider,
they wiU do well by delivering a written judgment.
The judgments even of Lord Eldon would have
been still more valuable had he adopted this
practice, imitating the example of that Ulustrious
judge, his brother. Lord Stowell, who by his written
judgments has composed a code of international
maritime law admired and respected by all
civUised nations.'
This lecture of Lord Campbell's created no
small sensation, and was severely commented upon,
with one exception, in aU the leading journals of
the day. Amongst lawyers it excited not only

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 91
surprise, but something hke consternation, and the
equity judges conceived that it would be neither
joist nor prudent to let it pass without some serious
remonstrance on their part. This could be done
Anth all the more effect because the judge himself,
who had been the subject of the Lord Chancellor's
reproof, maintained an absolute and dignified
sUence. The foUoAving protest, therefore, was addressed
to Lord Campbell by Sir John Eomilly (the Master
of the Eolls) and the Vice-ChanceUors Sir E. T. Kin-
dersley and Sfr John Stuart : — ' December 22, 1860.
' Dear Lord ChanceUor, — It is with deep regret
that we feel called upon to address you in conse
quence of the words reported to have fallen from
you, on Thursday last, in giving judgment in a case
of appeal from the decision of Vice-ChanceUor
Wood ; in which you appear to have commented
on the mode adopted by him in giving judgment,
both in that case, and generaUy in cases brought
before him, as distinguished from the value to be
attached to his decision.
' We are all of us ready and happy, at all times,
to receive from you any private advice as to the
mode in which we should conduct the business
entrusted to us, and we shall endeavour at all
times to profit by your suggestions ; but advice
given in public assumes the form of a rebuke, and

92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
when this is delivered by the Lord ChanceUor of
Great Britain from his judgment seat it acquires a
most solemn character.
' Every judge has pecuhar modes of expressing
the conclusions he has arrived at, and the trains of
reasoning which have led to them, and it is
scarcely possible that these should not be suscep
tible of improvement. But this is, we believe, the
first occasion on which any judge has commented
on the manner adopted by any other judge in de
livering his judgment, as apart and distinct from
the value of the reasoning, and conclusions to be
found in the judgment dehvered.
' We trust that your lordship will forgive us
for expressing the alarm we feel at the adoption of
a course which, if persisted in, can scarcely faU to
interrupt the cordial relations which have hitherto
distinguished the intercourse between the judges
in this country, both at law and in equity, and
the apprehension we entertain lest this should lead
to a diminution of the respect hitherto paid by the
pubhc to the persons who preside over the judicial
tribunals of this country.
' We have the honour to be,
' With great respect,
' Yours, very sincerely.
' P.S — We have written and sent this letter
Avithout any communication with the Vice-Chan
ceUor Wood.'

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 93
To this letter the Lord Chancellor replied in
the foUoAving terms : — ' Torquay : December 27, 1860.
' My dear Master of the Eolls, — I have read
with the most respectful and kindly feelings the
remonstrance signed by yourself and the Vice-
ChanceUors Kindersley and Stuart, against the
observations I made upon the judgment of Vice-
ChanceUor Page Wood iu the case of Burch v.
Bright. ' I am sincerely obhged to you for communi
cating to me your sentiments respecting what may
be fitly said by a judge in a Court of Appeal
touching the judgment of the Court below. I am
sure you AviU not be offended if I with equal
frankness express to you my sentiments on this
dehcate subject.
' I think that the appeUate judge would be
guUty of a breach of public duty, and would
disgrace himself, if he were, from his tribunal,
to make any irrelevant remarks which could
be construed into a censure of the Court below ;
but I think it belongs to the appellate judge
to comment freely on the judgment he has to
review, and the manner in which it has been
given. ' Such a right I have often known to be exer
cised in the House of Lords, and in the Judicial
Committee of the Privy Council — Courts of Appeal

94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
in which I have for many years practised as
counsel and sat as a judge. I should not hke to
repeat the observations which I have heard from
Lord Eldon upon some of the judgments of the
Court of Session in Scotland ; and I beheve that
he was in the habit of complaining that the judg
ments of Sir John Leach, when Vice-ChanceUor
and Master of the Eolls, were too short, as they
did not sufficiently inform him of the reasons
on which the decree appealed against had been
pronounced.
^ ' If anything which fell from me on the occa
sion you refer to was at all inconsistent Avith the
respect or courtesy due from one judge to another
I most humbly beg pardon, and I should be
wUling to apologise publicly for what I said. But
surely if Lord Eldon might complain that a judg-
naent was too short, I might be excused for com
plaining that a judgment was rather too long ;
adding that if it had been shorter I could more
satisfactorily have disposed of the appeal. I by
no means presumed to say that when a judge,
after hearing a case argued at the Bar, has taken
time to consider, it is his duty to deliver a written
judgment ; but I thought that I had a not unfit
opportunity of again declaring the opinion which
I have expressed before, both in pubUc and in
private, that this is the preferable course.
' I assure you that when I was transferred to

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 95
the Court of Chancery I considered it a great
fehcity in my lot that I was to be associated with
judges for Avhose learning, talents, principles, and
manners I had such a high respect, and it has been
a source of much gratification to me that hitherto
we have all acted so harmoniously together.
' I have the honour to be, my dear Master of
the EoUs and Vice-ChanceUors, Avith the utmost
esteem and regard, ' Yours, very sincerely, ' Campbell.']
Both before and since my elevation to the.
Bench, I have been very actively employed on
commissions. I first sat upon a Commission for
the Improvement of Church Leasehold Property,
in which Sir John Shaw Lefevre took a prominent
part. This was before I had entered Parhament.
The recommendations of that commission have
been carried out, partly by a bUl which I passed
when Sohcitor-General, and partly by subsequent
legislation, nearly in the very mode recommended.
I was a member of the Cathedral Commission, and
of the Divorce Commission, on the recommenda
tion of which the Divorce Court was estabhshed.
I concurred in this on the ground that Adrtual
prohibition of divorce to the poor, whilst it was
aUowed to the rich, was an insupportable anomaly.
The commission steadfastly set its face against
altering the ground of divorce. I was personally

96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
acquainted Avith many cruel cases affecting men of
moderate means, and the great influx of business to
the new Court arose much more from unremedied
injunctions than from wanton laxity of conduct.
I was chairman of a Commission for inquiring
into Legal Education, the recommendations of
which I still wish could be effected ; the establish
ment of a Law University, of which the Inns of
Court should be colleges ; and the granting of a
degree of M.L. or Master of Law, which magis
trates and others might avail themselves of with
out the expense of a call to the Bar. Considering
the numerous legal appointments in the colonies,
I think that education should be indispensable in
the barrister, and tested by examination.
I sat on Commissions for Chancery Eeform, as
has been stated, and for the Consohdation of the
Statute Law ; on the Commission for inquiring
into the Accountant-General's Office in Chancery,
the Commission for inquiring into the difference of
practice between Enghsh and Irish Courts of
Justice, and the Commission for inquiring into the
Patent Laws.
I also acted on one of the Commissions for re
forming the Statutes of Cambridge University,
when I laboured anxiously to limit the duration of
Fellowships, so as to make them a support and
encouragement whilst a career is being sought,
and not a premium upon indolence.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 97
Lord CranAvorth, during his Chancellorship,
requested me to act with Lord Wensleydale and
Sfr Lawrence Peel, on a Commission for determin
ing the long pending claim of the Crown of
Hanover to some of the Crown jewels in the pos
session of Her Majesty. This claim was raised,
and a commission appointed to investigate it, in the
time of WiUiam IV. The commissioners were Lord
Lyndhurst, Lord Langdale, and Sir Nicholas Tin-
dal ; but the death of the latter put an end to the
commission before they had reported. The new
commission, by its report, adjudged as to some
few jewels that the Court of Hanover had made
out its claims, and they were immediately restored.
It was at the anxious desire of Her Majesty that
the new commission was appointed.
It happened to be necessary to examine the
AvUl of George HI., and it was found to be in the
possession of a highly respectable sohcitor ; for
the sovereign alone cannot leave his will in pubhc
custody. It remains Avith his executors, and passes
to thefr executors in succession. This is an anoma
lous state of things, and should be rectified : it
arises from the sovereign's testament not being sus
ceptible of probate.
As regards my connexion with the work of
the Church, I may mention that I have been on
the Committee of the National Society since the
year 1834, and that I belong to numerous other
VoT,. T. K

98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Church societies. I am convinced that the Church
alone, from its organisation, from the wealth of
its members, from its endowments and its paro^
chial subdivisions, has the means of bringing home
religious instruction to the people. I have re
sided nearly thirty years as a householder in the
parish of St. Margaret, Westminster, which is
united to that of St. John for the maintenance of
the poor. When I first knew the district the two
parishes together had but two churches, one
dUapidated chapel of ease, five clergymen, and
about two hundred or three hundred children at
school. They now have ten churches, twenty-six
clergy, and more than ten times the original
number of schools ; and a fund for paying addi
tional clergy which is permanently endowed Avith
more than 25,000/. AU this has been effected by
working the parochial system. Miss Coutts, Arch
deacon Bentinck (a canon), and the daughters of
the late Bishop Monk (also a canon) have respec
tively founded three churches, and Miss Coutts
has further built a school and parsonage, and en
dowed the incumbent ; but the rest has been done
by purely local exertions. Canon Wordsworth
originated the Westminster Spfritual Aid Fund,
the fund for paying curates, and himself raised
12,000/. of that fund.
I have taken an active part in establishing a
free hbrary in the district under Mr. Ewart's Act,

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 9!)
This Act has been largely used in the north of
England, and also in many large towns in other
parts of the kingdom ; but in the metropolis there
is only one free library, though several attempts
have been made to establish one in other districts
besides Westminster. Here it has thoroughly
answered during the four years that it has existed ;
the monthly visits are nearly 3,000, whilst 4,000
persons take out books for reading . . . ^
^ At this point the narrative suddenly breaks ofi' with the words :
*I really can write no more.' — Ed.

H 2

MEMOIR

CHAPTEE I.
LIFE AT WINCHESTEE AND GENEVA. CORRESPONDENCE,
A.D. 1818-1819.
The foregoing narrative, lucid -and interesting
though it is, and in some respects minute in its
detaUs, would form, if taken alone, but an inade
quate picture of the Avriter's character and life.
The high rehgious principle, indeed, the ability,
the industry which always distinguished him, could
not fail to be traceable in any sketch of his career ;
but for a revelation of the inner man, the thoughts,
the feehngs, the sentiments which constitute the
real character, we must look elsewhere. And
this want is very thoroughly supphed by his
correspondence with the friend of his life, Walter
Farquhar Hook. From boyhood to old age the
two friends communicated to each other their
whole mind, and whole heart, upon every event
and every subject in which they were interested.
From the beginning to the end of their intercourse

102 MEMOIR.
nothing was reserved, nothing dissembled ; there
was no suspension of intimacy, however tem
porary ; there was no estrangement, however
shght. There was the simUarity in principles,
in tastes, in interests, and dispositions Avithout
which intimate friendship can hardly exist at aU ;
but there were also those dissimilarities which,
within certain hmits, tend to strengthen the tie
between two human souls, causing as they do a
reciprocity of gifts, and leading often to differences
of opinion and sentiment which stimulate thought,
and suggest matter for serious argument or playful
banter, Avithout impairing affection.
Thus both were warm-hearted, and of eager
temperament ; but AvhUe Hook was naturally im
petuous and irascible, his friend was invariably
sweet-tempered and kept his enthusiasm under the
control of a calm and sober practical judgment.
Hook imparted his religious opinions and his pas
sionate love for Enghsh literature to his com
panion — benefits wliich the other requited by en
deavouring to excite in his friend a taste for
scholarship, and an ambition to attain a high
position at school, and at the University. In this
he partiaUy succeeded ; but he could not impart his
own aptitude for philosophical and mathematical
studies, or for the acquisition of modern languages.
Hook, indeed, had a remarkable antipathy to
everything foreign, especially French, and cared

SCHOOL FRIENDSHIP. 103
very httle for traveUing ; while his friend was pas
sionately fond of the latter and enjoyed intercourse
with foreigners, partly owing to his great linguistic
skUl, partly to his social disposition, and his eager
ness to acquire information. Speaking generally, it
would be true to say that of the two friends my uncle
had the more powerful inteUect, was more accom
plished, more Avidely read, and more evenly
balanced in temperament ; but the other had a
certain fire of energy, a depth of human sympathy,
a fund of pecuhar humour, and a touch of eccen
tricity which enabled him to exercise an extra
ordinary influence over other men. He had, in
fact, quahties which have more affinity to genius
than what is commonly understood by great abihty
or superior talents. The contrast in outward
appearance between the two friends as youths must
have been curiously striking. Hook was tall,
gaunt, pale-faced, red-haired ; while my uncle was
short, and small hmbed, but inchned to be stout,
and of a ruddy complexion.
The correspondence begins in the year 1818,
when Hook had left Winchester for Oxford, and
ends in 1875, the year of his death. Out of this
long series I have endeavoured to select such
letters as are interesting and instructive in them
selves, and iUustrate the hfe and character of the
writer. A few have already appeared in the
'Life of Dr. Hook' pubhshed a few years ago.

104 MEMOIR.
and others should be read in connexion with
letters from Dr. Hook, and Lord Hatherley's letter
to the editor, printed in the same work. The only
long break in the series occurs between the years
1820 and 1828 when my uncle was at Cambridge,
or beginning his professional career in London, and
his friend was at work in his curacies, first at Whip-
pingham, and then at Moseley. I have searched in
vain for any letters belonging to this period. They
were probably swept by mistake into the great
conflagration of manuscripts which was made when
Dr. Hook left Leeds.
The story of my uncle's life faUs naturally into
four divisions. I have devoted a chapter to each
of these periods, annexing the correspondence
which belongs to it. It may be noted as a
singular circumstance that the earliest extant
letter of the future Lord Chancellor is one which
relates his share in an act of insurrection against
authority and order — the Great EebeUion at
Winchester. The language of rapturous affection for his
friend by which these schoolboy letters are dis
tinguished may seem extraordinary and almost
unnatural in a youth of seventeen or eighteen ; but
I have heard my uncle say that no tamer expres
sions would have satisfied the demands of Hook's
fervid disposition, and the custom being once

SCHOOL FRIENDSHIP. 105
estabhshed of addressing each other in such high-
flown terms, it became quite spontaneous and
genuine. Hook, moreover, was very fearful lest residence
abroad should in the smaUest degree alienate his
friend's affections ft-om himself or shake his alle
giance to Shakspeare, and he watched for the
least symptoms of failure in fidehty to either with
the keen eye of a jealous lover. Hence the letters
of December 18, 1818, and January 10, 1819, in
which the writer with an earnestness and solem
nity partly pathetic, partly amusing, and also
with a lucidity and precision significant of the
future laAvyer, justifies some criticisms which he had
dared to make on the great poet, asseverates at the
same time his iuAdolable fidehty to him, deprecates
his friend's hasty judgment, and implores him not
to execute his threat of breaking up the Shak
spearian society which he had founded, and burning
the badge of the order.
Few letters from Geneva have been preserved
save those of which portions are printed in the
foUoA^dng pages ; but the original collection must
have been a very large one, as the friends seemingly
Avrote to each other every week. It indicates no
smaU exuberance of bodily strength and mental
Adgour on the part of the writer that besides
studying, as he says he did, ten hours a day, he

106 MEMOIR.
was able to pen such long letters, and to compose
a tragedy, ' WiUiam TeU,' and other poems, to
which allusions are occasionally made in the corre
spondence. The Eebellion at Winchester.'
May 16, 6 a.n,a.»
My most beloved Walter, — I would not write
to you tUl to-day because nothing was settled
before to-day. We had the day before yesterday
a letter from Gabell advising that Wood junior *
should be sent back, and saying that I went
because I would not say that I had been intimi
dated, and therefore he could not keep me. He
added at the end of his letter ' by your eldest son's
departure Winchester loses one of its brightest
ornaments.' I would not tell anybody else of this
because they would think me vain, but I always
tell you, my dear Hook, of everything. Wood
junior returns to-morrow, and my father has
written to Gabell asking him to take me back tiU
the end of the half year. I am sure if I go back
I shaU be miserable. My father is vexed because,
not having been at a pubhc school himself, he
' See Life of Br. Hook, vol. i. p. 18, and 608 smaU edition.
^ i.e. A.D. 1818 : a.n.a. signifies anno nostra amicitise, ' the year of
our fi-iendship.' AU the early letters between the two friends are
dated in this way.
^ Western Wood.

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 107
does not knoAV much about them, and so cannot
be persuaded by the arguments of all my other
relations that there is no disgrace in being ex-
peUed in such a cause. As for me, I would not
have been out of the rebelhon on any considera
tion ; and I am sure we are aU much obhged to you
at Oxford for drinking the healths of the rebels.
I beheve I ga\'e you an account of everything
prior to our seizing Etheridge's ^ keys on Thursday
after ' bells,' at a quarter to four o'clock. We
then entered into coUege, and, Avith the assistance
of some coUege feUows ready for the purpose,
rushed into the porter's lodge, and, having pinned
Dickins to the wall, secured all the keys of
college. When the great gates had been shut a
minute or two, D. WUliams saw us all armed with
cudgels, and came down. He made some
harangue ; but we told him that it was not at all
OAving to his conduct that we had taken up arms,
but to the tyranny of Gabell alone, which our
souls could no longer brook. We further told
him that he should have free ingress and egress,
and that his friends also, if not too numerous,
should be admitted into coUege. We then with
scobs ^ and faggots blocked up his door which leads
' The butler. This former letter has heen lost.
^ A W^inchester word for a piece of school furniture, which was a
desk and box for books combined.

108 MEMOIR.
into quadrangle, for in case we were forced from
that space without quadrangle, extending from
the stables to the great gate, we meant to enclose
ourselves within middle gate and the gate in the
seventh chamber passage. We also blocked up
the passage into quadrangle from Clarke's and H.
Huntingford's apartments, neither of whom was
then at Winchester. Our men were divided into
eight regiments. I was heutenant of one. These
divided among themselves the divers duties of
watching, breaking open doors, &c. Soon after
we had secured ourselves, Wigget, who com
manded at commoners' gate, sent to say that
Gabell, Puffers, some servants, &c., were at the
door trying to force it. Bailey and Wigget were
nearest to the door, the former holding the key on
the outside. GabeU said : 'Bailey, you had better
open the door.' W. : ' Sir, you have no chance.'
G. : 'Wigget, you are no longer prefect.' W. :
' Sir, I could have told you that, for if we had
not broken out prematurely, the prefects would
have sent you a paper of resignation, which was
by mistake left in commoners.' This was the
fact. Mr. T. P. : ' Let me in, let me in ; I wiU
fight any six.' Dobson at the gate behind
Wigget : ' I wish we had you in here, we would
break your head for you ; only if we let you in
others Avould come too.' The party then left the
gate. In the meantime the Warden had sent

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 109
down a paper saying that the last rebellion arose
from no o-rievances being stated, and begging to
know ours. We said we would send them up
next morning ; because we thought it would seem
like fear to send them up at first. After Gabell,
&c., had left the gate they came round to the
Warden's bow-AvindoAV and took down our names.
I was not on duty there, but I went to show
myself, as did all the rest, that my name might be
taken down. We then nailed up the Warden's
door. I got the first nail myself and struck it in,
the noise bringing the ugly phiz of Lissmore out
of the window. Malet then said : ' Let me strike,
as I am stronger ; ' which I did. Lissmore said he
knew Sir Alex. Malet's name, and the Warden
declares, as I understand, that he Avill bring him
before the House of Peers unless he has ample
satisfaction. I forgot to tell you that parties Avith
many flints from quadrangle were placed on the
top of the tower over porter's lodge, which com
mands all coUege, and at top of the towers over
middle gate. I was sent with a party to reach
coUege chapel tower. After breaking open some
doors (as keys broke in the locks, they were so
rusty) I ascended, second fellow, to the top of the
tower, and saw GabeU and Puffer in commoners'
court. There were three loud universal cheers
when this point was gained, and laurel branches
and flags (our handkerchiefs) displayed. Soon

110 MEMOIR.
after we gained the top of hall. We remained
unmolested during a great part of the day. At
seven in the evening, Barnard, the brother of the
Prebendary, putting his head out of window with
Holhs, said he only wanted to ask a civil question.
It appeared afterwards to be a question civil in
law only. We let him in, much against my wish ;
but Porcher and Ward were the first day's cap
tains (two captains were chosen daily from the
council of twenty, of which I was one), so that he
was let in. He stayed an hour palavering, and
said he must read the Eiot Act, but he would give
us a night to consider, and would come at seven
in the morning. We set watches for the night of
two hours a company ; but most of the leaders
watched more. I watched at the great gate, of
which I kept the key, tiU half-past one. Then I
went into chambers, where there were comfortable
fires all night, threw myself on a bed, and at two
got to sleep, and slept tiU four. I then watched
again tiU the time of our marching out. In the
morning, at seven, came the magistrate (many of
us .Avished again to keep him out), and said we
were committing a felony in keeping the keys, and
summoned us in the name of the King, adding
that, if any were found in arms, should the
soldiers enter, they would be sent to prison.
Some were rather frightened at this. We again
sent up our terms, which we had sent up once

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. Ill
this morning, containing our grievances, which I
mentioned, I believe, in my last. They were re
fused ; but Urquhart, at the window, asked for a
parley. He said that Gabell did not want us, and
we might all go. The magistrate, too, said that if
we went out lie cared no more. We all then
marched out at nine o'clock, to go to the ' George.'
In the churchyard we were met by a body of
about twenty soldiers, Avho, notwithstanding B.'s
agreement, charged us. We had thrown away
our cudgels in college, so they easily took Jones
and Fredericks prisoners. However they after
wards hberated them and iuAdted them to dinner,
saying the attack was a mistake, as they did not
know Barnard's agreement. Then Gabell wanted
a conference in commoners. We all of us went
there. We went up to know who were to be ex-
peUed. He soon after caUed up Porcher and
Malet and sent them off ; then Wigget, Hyde, and
Morris, and then me. He would not expel
Copleston and Martin ; and though they came up
and dined up in town, and had given their honours
that they would share the fate of all, they basely
went down to commoners. Well, when we were
expelled, aU the vnndows in college and com
moners were broken at leave out. Almost all
commoners came out, and a great number then
set off dfrectly for their homes. Jones headed a
party of thirty over college waU. We dined

112 MEMOIR.
about six, at the ' George,' many having gone home,
some having been forced back, and some having
broken their honour by going back. We slept at
the ' George.' In the middle of the night West-
combe came to see me in bed, and asked me to get
up, which I did. Then he wanted to persuade me
to return, saying that aU the college boys had re
turned but those who were expeUed, and that
Gabell would receive me again if I returned Anth
him. I said I was very much obhged to him for
being so friendly to me, but that my honour was
dearer to me than my life. He behaved in a very
gentlemanlike way, and said that he could not
press me, since it was on a principle of honour
that I refused. He then went away. Abbot,  ,
and our two selves went home in a chaise. I hear
from Winton that many have returned, and that
Gabell has made eight boys prefects, but that
these prefects are much bulhed, and that boys are
daily being expelled. My dear Hook, I do not
think Gabell wiU take me back, and I hope not.
I have now told you everything I remember.
Adieu, God bless you ! Thus prays your ever
affectionate friend, WiLLIAJL

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 113
London: May 18, 1818.
My dearest Hook, — . . . Certainly I should
have thought that if my father sent me back I
was in some degree acquitted of my promise.
But, besides that, I could not bear to be seeing
Gabell, and the being under his power, after
having thus rebeUed against it. Moreover, he in-
fficted corporal punishment on the college pre
fects, which I should esteem such a disgrace that
I would rather be expeUed forty times. I was
sorry, my dear Walter, to find you disapproved of
the rebelhon. I must confess, upon cool thought,
it does not appear to me that any boys are justi
fied in using Adolence against their masters ; but
surely if any were, we were. You forget that his
giAdng so few remissions for commoners speaking,
his giving no hohday for Leopold, and none for
Hombourg's marriage, though other public schools
have a fortnight additional hohdays, and his
nearly expelhng a prefect for the usual practice of
setting a watch, aU happened this half year.
Much do I thank you for refuting such foul
calumniating hes (I must caU them so) as were
spread about concerning me. You always act so
friendly a part Avith me : you are a true, dear,
dear friend.
The reason I am in such a hurry is that I am
hardly in time for post. I have delayed, waiting
for GabeU's letter, which was sent to the City.
Vol. I. I

114 MEMOIR.
He will not take me back ; but now my father has
got my brother taken back, he is almost, if not
quite, appeased. I am soon to go to Geneva,
which I now hear, though I knew it not before, I
should have done had there been no 'row.' My
good friend, my uncle,^ is there, who said in a letter
that the Enghsh there are very dissipated, but that
several young persons, saying they would avoid
English society in order to learn French, do not
mix with them. I certainly shaU be one of these.
But, alas ! it grievfes me that we shaU not meet
now for some time. My dear Hook, do not grieve
too much at this. I am to go soon, but I knoAV^
not when, and I know not how long I shall have
to stay ; and thence I shall go to Cambridge. . . .
I trust, my dear friend, that I shaU be able to
avoid bad society at Geneva. Oh, I pray to God
that I may ! My uncle Avill stay there till I get to
him. He is an uncle whom I know to be capable
of giving me exceUent advice, and therefore he
Avill be an amazing advantage to me. I hear the
system of teaching is excellent, and they always
examine you the next day as to what the lecture
was about on the preceding day, so that you must.
always be attentive to the lectures. Mathematics
are very much taught, and there are also lectures
on law which will be useful to me ; for all law is
in some manner connected. Besides, I shall obtain
' Mr. Page.

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 115
an accurate knoAvledge of French, and shall perhaps
be enabled, if I find time, to learn Italian. The
only thing, my dear Hook, that grieves me is that
I shall be so very far removed from you whom
I love, Avhom I adore. It seems fated that we
should not meet ; but I love you beyond measure ;
beheve me, I love j'ou.
God bless you ! From your adoring friend, William.
On the Eve of Departure for Geneva.
London : May 22, 1818.
My dearest Friend, — This is probably the last
letter which I shaU send you from this place. I
shaU most hkely leave for Geneva to-day or to
morrow. Perhaps I shall go alone, but that is not
settled yet ; because there is a young person of the
name of Eead (or some such name) whom my
father Avishes me to go with, if he leaves London
soon enough. Of course, as you may imagine, I
vote this a very great nuisance indeed ; for I
know nothing at all of this person. . . . Pray
do not be desponding : we yet may meet and be
happy one Avith another. I pray God that it may
be so. ... I hope that I shall be able to hold
firm to my rehgion, to which at present I feel my
self entirely devoted, and by God's help I think I
shall so continue. Pray for me, my dear Walter,
that I may not fall into temptation. Do not be
I 2

116 MEMOIR.
so melancholy ; the disappointment, I am sure from
my own feelings, must be grievous, very grievous ;
but we must submit Avith patience, and with a
hope that we shall soon meet one another once
more. I long to hear from you an account of
your studies, and, as your collections must now be
over or fast approaching, how you have succeeded,
or are likely to succeed in them. Oh, my dear
friend, do attend, I beseech you, heartily to your
studies, for I have set my heart upon your getting
first-class honours ! It would be such an honour
to you through life, that I should rejoice at it as
much as in my own. For nothing can possibly
give me greater joy than any honour or advantage
accruing to my dear and only friend. Therefore I
entreat you, if you have any love for me, to
prosecute your learning diligently ; for I knovr
you have considerable talents, and AvdU, I think,
make a due use of them. You wiU think that I
am running on in too prosy a style ; but, to tell
you the truth, I feel by no means in a hvely
humour. . . . Do pray let us write often, that
thus we may as far as possible atone for our
absence. It wUl be a long, long absence, longer
than any that we have yet undergone. But, wher:
ever I go, no absence shall ever be able to efface
from my mind the fond remembrance of my dearly
loved Walter. I cannot, my dear, good friend,
write by any means a long letter now, as I am

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 117
going off in such a hurry ; but, however, do not
think that my love is scant. If I were to measure
out the length of my letters by my love, I should
have to write whole volumes.
God bless you my dearest, dearest Hook !
First Letter from Geneva,
June 8, 1818.
My dearest Walter, — I fear that you AviU think
I have been very neghgent ; but I was forced to
delay my letter because my uncle has been making
an expedition to various mountains of the Alps in
which I have accompanied him, so that I was
always either walking or in a vehicle. . . . My
uncle has now left this place, and I am now fixed
in my pension (as they caU it in French), in which
I have been about three days. At present I have
about three chapters of Tacitus to translate every
morning into French ; and there is a mathematical
master Avith whom I shall study three times in the
week at this house, and also go to his house three
times in the week at six o'clock in the morning,
an hour which I have chosen myself as it Avill give
me more of the day. At present I am thus only
. preparing myself to be admitted into the Auditoire,
for which one examination wiU take place in August,
and another in October. My chief difficulty is my
not having as yet a thorough knowledge of French,
which, however, I hope to have in three weeks'

118 MEMOIR.
time. I can understand it sufficiently to know
what the people say, but cannot talk very fluently
myself. There are three other persons at this
pension, and a number of httle boys about eight or
nine years old, who only dine and sup with the
family. One of three, who have, like myself, a room
to themselves to sleep and study in, is an Enghsh
man, but as he very seldom wiU talk in Enghsh to
me, I must, of necessity, soon learn French. The
family consists of an old, very good-natured gentle
man, who is my master, two of his sons — one about
twenty-five, the other nineteen — and his four
daughters, of whom the two eldest are very
amiable ; the other two are very young and do not
talk much. We are aUowed to do our exercise
when we like, and at aU other times to walk about
unless it is the hour of the mathematical or any
other master. Our hours are very regular. We
breakfast at eight : at least if you choose to come
down then you find it ready, or you find it there
if you prefer it half an hour later. We dine at
twelve, we drink tea at six, and sup at nine, and,
unless there is a party, go to bed at ten. No
parties can be kept up later than midnight without
special leave from the chief syndic (four syndics
are the governors of the Canton and Eepublic of
Geneva), who Avill not give permission, except the
party is on account of a marriage, or some such
great occasion.

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 119
I see very plainly that if a person likes he can
be very idle here. HoAvever, as I am very anxious
to enter the Auditoire in August, I only go out at
eleven to bathe in the lake (for the weather is more
oppressively hot than I have ever felt it in England),
and to walk after seven in the evening, when we
have done tea, till supper-time, because the evenings
are so very beautiful, and if I did not go out at all
I should certainly be ill. When I get into the
Auditoire I shall study mathematics, algebra, &c.,
which AviU be of immense advantage to me. Nor
shaU I neglect Latin or Greek, for the gentleman
Avith whom I am, whose name is Du Villard, is the
Professor of BeUes Lettres at Geneva, and has too
much affection for his favourite classics to neglect
them. Besides, I read them very much by myself,
dividing my time between them and study of the
French grammar. I have got here my .^schylus
and Sophocles, and my Homer, an Herodotus,
a Longinus, a Cicero's 'Orations,' an Horace, a
Juvenal, a Tacitus, a Virgil and Ovid, a Xenophon's
'Cyropsedia,' the ' Funebres Orationes,' and an old
Greek Testament of yours, which I found being
kicked about at Winchester. I have not brought
many Enghsh books ; but I could not deny myself
old Shakspeare, which, together with the Spectator,
makes my English library.
My dear Walter, I have given you this full
account of myself because you have always told

120 MEMOIR.
me that you dehght in hearing all that concerns
me, and so, having vanity enough to think this
possible, I always take you at your word. Pray,
pray do the same with me : let me know all about
you, and especially let me know if there are any
hopes of your coming here. Oh, that there may
be ! nothing could make me so happy here as the
presence of my dear Walter. You have no reason
to think that there is any one here to supplant you
in my unalterable affection. The Englishman is
not very agreeable, and the two Frenchmen are
lively enough, but do not much abound in sense.
One of them is a Parisian, and speaks with a most
excellent accent, so that I shall be enabled by him
greatly to improve my French. My dear, dear
friend, how much I want somebody to communicate
my thoughts to ! Separated by such a distance
from my relations, I feel more than ever the want
of that invaluable blessing, a kind and good friend.
But how could you say at the end of your letter
' parted for ever ' ? My dear, dear friend, I see nO
reason to think of such a thing : such a thought
would make me perfectly miserable, and I beg that
you will not entertain it yourself. Your verses are
very good, and to me very valuable, because I
know that they flow from the heart. ... I wish
very much I was back in England ; but still, though
at such a distance from home, I must prefer this to
Winchester. Here we are treated hke gentlemen ;

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 121
there we Avere not. Here I can be as much by my
self as I like ; there I never could be alone, but stiU,
though amidst such a crowd, always felt myself alone
and destitute, because that one person whom alone I
could love was absent. By-the-bye, I have not told
you that to my great annoyance Porcher in London
asked me to write to him once in two months, as
he thought I should Uke to hear of news from
Winchester. However, that matter is soon settled :
it shall be first once in three months, and then not
at aU ; so that this does not cause me much dis
quiet. May you be happy ! and that he may see his
dearest adored friend soon is the prayer of your
devoted William Page Wood.

Geneva: September 6, 1818.
I have broken, as you see, the rule of once a
week, as it is nearly a fortnight since I sent my
last letter. But Thursday and Sunday are my
only Avriting days, aU the rest of our time is so
much occupied. I was going to write to you on
the Thursday before last, but I was prevented — I
must confess, in rather an agreeable manner — by the
arrival of my dear father, mother, and sisters. . . .
My father only stayed here tiU Tuesday last : he
then set off for Chamounix, and intended to proceed
as far as MUan. He will return in three weeks'

122 MEMOIR .
time, and wiU make some stay here if the Parhament
does not meet in October ; and I am sure I hope
it will not, for I shaU then be able to see him
much more than before. For our vacation begins
on October 1, and we shall then have four weeks
with only Latin and Greek to do, which will be
nothing, after such complicated studies as before,
and there will be two weeks with nothing to do at
all. I could seldom find time to see my father
before four o'clock in the afternoon, so that you
may conceive we are rather busy, and I was then
forced to put off the writing out of some lectures,
until my relations had gone. You may easily
imagine what a great pleasure it must be to have
the society of my relations here, since I am entirely
without a friend in this place. There is not one
person here that I hke more than another, and not
one that I would trust with the most unimportant
secret. How I Avish that my dear, dear loved
friend were here, if only for a day ! it would give
me such infinite pleasure. . . .
I have had a letter from my eldest brother, and
he says that Gabell, in the character which he sent
home, said ' that he heard I was in Switzerland,
and hoped that I should do well, for that he should
always be glad to hear of my welfare.' This
hking which he seems to have had for me may
make me appear perhaps very ungrateful ; but let
me assure you, Walter, that I thoroughly weighed

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 123
beforehand whether it would be ungrateful in me
to join the rebellion, and I thought that certainly
the injustice of Gabell in general (though, perhaps,
not to me) was such that I ouglit not to refuse
concurrence in any action which showed him that
we could not submit to it without indignation.
Indeed, had I been roused by a sense of private
wrongs, I should have thought myself much less
justified, since I should have shown myself selfish.
Even now I feel, as I always have felt, gratitude to
Gabell for his particular kindness to me ; and now
that I have shown him that I have not a slavish
spfrit, I would give anything to have it in my
power to do him a benefit. I wish since I am now
upon this old and, I dare say to you, stale and
disagreeable subject (which I beg pardon for
stupidly introducing), that if you see Mr. West-
combe you would thank him as much as possible,
most heartily from me for his kindness the night
before I left Winchester.^ . . . He showed himself
to be a man of feehng (for I know that he only
Avished my advantage) and a man of strict honour.
I mention this because if you could find an oppor
tunity of thanking him, you would do me a great
favour, as I do not think that I performed that duty
sufficiently at the time.
Perhaps you will say, ' Why do you thus bring
up such old stale things, instead of teUing me what
' See ahove, page 112.

124 MEMOIR.
you are doing at Geneva ? ' But, indeed, were I to
tell you that, it would be nothing but a dull weekly
routine of lectures. I do these lectures generally
by myself. Now and then, if there is a hard one,,
the Frenchman of our pension, who is not very
bright, comes and begs that I AviU do it with him.
When I have no lesson I read either Latin and Greek,
since we do but Uttle of either, or our friend — yes,
friend — Shakspeare. Sometimes I take a boat
upon the lovely lake, and generaUy, when I can
squeeze in two hours of spare time, indulge in a
swim, for the water is so dehghtful that I seldom
stay in less than three-quarters of an hour at the
very least. The other day I performed rather a
feat in swimming the lake and back again, a dis
tance of a mile and a half or rather more, A^thout
stopping, and passing through several currents
which cross the lake, amongst which is the river
Ehone itself, which enters the lake in a most dirty
condition at one end, and goes out a most heavenly
blue colour at the Geneva end. . . . God bless you,
my dear, dear only friend !
Protestation of Fidelity to Shakspeare.
Geneva : December 18, 1818.
My dear Walter, — . . . You must have some
strange prepossession against me with regard to the
French plays, for at present I detect nothing but sins
against Shakspeare. I reverence the great poet as

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 125
much as I always did and always shall. The
expression lutidentus seems to me, on second
thoughts, considerably too strong ; ^ but I do not
think that anybody of any taste can think that much
is added to the dignity of tragedy by the porter's
speech in ' Macbeth ' or the porter's speech in
' Henry Vill.' I merely cite two flagrant in
stances of quod tollere vellem. I do not think that
he who would try to defend such passages as these,
or others which might be selected, is a true friend
to the great poet, for in my opinion they were
written to amuse the people, and Shakspeare had
a finer and nobler mind than to think that they
could be any ornament to the piece. Far be it
from me to be fastidious on his anachronisms, as on
the ' seacoast of Bohemia,' for such defects do not
at all take off from the interest of the piece. And
even those parts which are not ornaments, and
might have been omitted, I do not regret that
Shakspeare wrote, for I think a great genius always
Avrites in a bold, frregular manner. One might say
in comparing the French poets to Shakspeare, as in
comparing Homer to VirgU, that Eacine (for
instance) never falls so low as Shakspeare, nor does
he ever mount by any means so high. For my
part, I was always fond of native genius uncramped
' I have not found the letter in which this epithet occurs, but the
present letter indicates pretty clearly how it had heen applied to
certain passages in Shakspeare. — Ed.

126 MEMOIR'.
by rules. The very reason why I said I thought
CorneiUe the best of the French poets is because he
Uved before that time when the unities and the
Greek models were insisted upon ; and, therefore,
his unfettered genius could better display itself.
I Uke Homer ten thousand times more than VirgU,
and Shakspeare ten mUhon times better than aU
the French poets put together. Far from burning
my ribbon, I have regarded it as a badge of the
most noble order, and I feel myself conscious that
I have not changed one tittle of my opinion of St.
Shakspeare since I took the oath of the order, nor
have I fallen into a single heresy against the
doctrines of that oath. I always defend Shakspeare
to the utmost of my might, nor do I admit to
any but yourself that there is a single blemish
in one of his works. You say, too, in the end
of your letter, ' those who think that much is
to be taken away, &c. ; ' but if you look at the
quotation you Avill not find anything like the word
' much.' I willingly recant cum flueret luculen-
tus, which is more apphcable to the Germans;
but I think he who says that Shakspeare Avrote
every passage with the idea of ornamenting his
piece, and nothing with a view to gratify the
vulgar, is an enemy instead of a friend to the divine
author. . . .
My dear, dear Walter, how happy would it
make me if you could by any means contrive to

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 127
make a Uttle trip here before next summer ! We
shaU have a long vacation from June till August —
that is to say, vacation at the Auditoire — though I
shall still have to pursue my lessons of Latin
and Greek Avith M. Du Villard. However, I fear
you wiU not be able to execute this project, and I
AviU speak no more of it, because I believe that
you would, of yourself, be ardent to come here if
you could. For, notwithstanding you have formed
one impossible idea, that of my deserting Shak
speare, who, Avith you, shares my friendship (yes !
and old Shaky always wUl), still, you will not, I
trust, form the very impossible one that I could
ever cease to have you continually present to my
thoughts. We have got about thirty Greeks here who
have run away from, the Grand Signer. I should
like very much to know them, as they are very
well instructed in ancient Greek, and their conver
sation is said to be very entertaining. They were
immensely rich, since the head of the family had
more than two milUons of Enghsh money ; and they
have managed to save one miUion.
By-the-bye, have you read the new work of Lord
Byron, the ' Curse of Minerva ' ? I think I never read
such an infamous pubUcation or one more worthy
of being burnt by the hands of the common hang
man. ... I must finish my letter, but not with
out assuring you that I love you and Shakspeare,

128 MEMOIR.
if possible, more than ever ; and I am, as truly as
ever, your most affectionate, devoted, and only
friend, W. P. Wood.
P.S. The long-threatened letter of H. has not
yet arrived, and I begin now to repose in security.
Nor have I received another from Porcher. Indeed,
I took the most effectual way not to receive any, as
I did not choose to answer his last.

Fidelity to Shakspeare vindicated,
Geneva : January 10, 1819.
My dear, dear Friend, — I thank you much for
your last long letter. You are determined never to
understand what I say about Shakspeare rightly ;
you always think that I have such an absurd idea
as to compare him with French authors in the
first place ; in the second, you say I do not Uke the
English style of plays ; and in the third, that I do
not think Shakspeare a model of a much greater
perfection than any author that has yet appeared.
These charges are very heavy ones if weU founded,
but I am glad that with a safe conscience I can de
clare them to be utterly groundless. As you have
been able to form such ideas, you must think my
taste, httle as it was, much debased, and I must
have sunk much in your opinion, if not in your
affection ; therefore, I am sorry that I ever entered

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 129
upon the topic. Let me only explain ray meaning
in regard to thc porter's speech in • Macbeth.' I
do not mean that I dishke a mixture of comedy and
tragedy ; I only meant that I did not think the
speech very comic, or, at least, that I thought it of
a loAV comic order. Eather than break up a society
the foundation of Avhich is attended Avith such dear,
such SAveet recoUections, rather than be degraded
from an order of Avhich I have not yet felt myself
unworthy (although you think me so in wishing to
burn your ribbon), I assent to every opinion of
yours, Avhich, if AveU sifted, differs not, I think,
much from my own. For you allow that, as a
human being, Shakspeare must have some fault,
only that he is nearer to perfection than any other —
an opinion which I have always held and stiU hold
most tenaciously. I have only had the audacity to
point out what seemed to me the nearest to a fault
in perfection. You aUow that there must be some
fault, but do not admit this to be one ; and much,
indeed, must my audacity be punished if you mean
to disgrace me by burning the order. As I said
before, never have I mentioned my opinions to any
one else ; but, having always been accustomed to
open every thought of my heart to you, I have
thus offended you with regard to this point. But
to shoAV you that I have not broken my oath Avhich
I swore on my honour (which, I believe, you will
think unstained), I here swear to it again, adding
Vor,. T. K

130 MEMOIR.
further, upon the same honour, that you may no
longer mistake my opinion, first, that I value the
French trash so little that Avithout the least pain, on
your Avish and probably without your expressing it,
I shall ncA'er read another French play ; second,
that no kind of style can in my opinion come up
to the English style, at least of those few styles that
I know. The French is much too stiff and cold ;
the German rather too enthusiastic ; and the Greek,
in my poor opinion, rather too pompous ; that is to
say, one always finds in their plays the language of
princes, and not enough of natural life. Third, that
I honour, and adore, and love Shakspeare not one
whit less than when I first was admitted to this
honourable order ; that I consider him, as I always
did, a model for every Enghsh Avriter ; and would
that I could imitate in the slightest degree the
grand model ! I consider him as perfect as a
human author can be. But as I see that there
always has been some fault in every great buUding,
some defect in the best government, and some sin
in the most virtuous man, so I think there must be
some fault in the best author.
I have thus, I think, clearly stated, upon mine
honour, my opinion. I flatter myself that I love
Shakspeare no less than you, although you will not
believe it, and tell me that you prefer a German's
or an Italian's love to mine, Avhilst I am sure either
of these would commit greater offences than mine.

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1810. 131
and Avoiild find far more faults than I have done,
since they have national prejudices of style to
combat .
I cannot say that I feel much flattered with the
compliments you thus kindly bestow upon me, and,
as I think, most undeservedly. I beg you avUI not
burn your ribbon tiU you send me an answer.
Besides, if any one burns it, it is for me to do so ;
for if, to my great grief, you persist in Avishing to
reject me as a heretic from the order, of course I
must submit to the harsh sentence, and not force
you to quit an order of which you are the founder.
You and H. Avill then remain the sole knights,
though I well know that he is tenfold more heretical
than I am.
Thus I close for ever this discourse ; and do not
think, my dear, dear Walter, that I am at all angry,
though at the same time, beheve me, I say in
earnest that Avhich I have said, and above all that
great would be my sorrow were you to expel me
from that society which I entered with so much
joy. ¦ • •
You will now soon be returning to Oxford and
wiU soon have to undergo your examination or
' little go.' T have no fear, as I do not doubt that
it AvUl be honourable to you. I only am a httle
inclined to believe that you cultivate other muses
in preference to those of Herodotus, and that your
tragedies, &c., interfere with your studies. I my-
K 2

132 MEMOIR.
self feel the delights of authorship, but above aU
in poetry, for I cannot leave off when I have once
begun, and consequently ' Wilham Tell ' is nearly
finished. [N.B. Nothing of the French kind in it. . . .j
I have stolen from the night to write this ; and
as it is now near midnight and we get up very
early here (almost like Winchester), I must con
clude. My dear Walter, may God bless and pre-
serve you this night and for ever ! and oh ! may
your love to me remain as firm and undiminished
as mine ever will remain to you, that of your
devoted-to-death friend, W. P. Wood.
Exhortation to Industry. — Recreations at Geneva,
Geneva : February 16, 1819.
My dear Walter,— ... I am now anxiously
waiting for the decision of your ' little go.' You tell
me that you have been very idle, but I hope that you
only slander yourself as Malcolm in ' Macbeth.' If
you have been so, let me entreat you to amend for
your sake, your parents', and mine. In your plan
of study I was thinking another hour might be
gained in the morning. Seven hours is what I
always find sufficient for sleep, and I have got a
clock with an alarum on purpose to wake me.
However, I do not know what time your chapel
takes ; so perhaps I am now talking without know-

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 133
ing anything about the matter. For my part, I
generally study ten hours a day — from eight in the
morning tUl twelve, from one to six, and from
seven to eight. This is the best plan during the
months of January and February, because there
are often baUs to which one goes about half-past
eight and stays tiU tAveh'e. I now have become a
famous Avaltzer, and begin to show off in the
Eussian or quick waltz which is the principal dance
here. We also dance several German and Italian
dances which are very pretty. I find the French
contredanses very easy. But if I talk more on
this subject you Avill begin to think me a dancing-
master, though I assure you the dancing-master
here thinks it no ignoble business. He calls him
self professor of dancing, and one day, when I made
a bad step, told me that if I did such a thing again
I should be a disgrace to my country. He is a
little man of Piedmont, for the Genevese are too
grave for such hght occupations. As our professor
of botany avUI make a journey in March, we shall
be examined by him before his departure, so that
I am getting up my botany as fast as possible.
This is rather convenient, as it will take off before
hand a tolerable load from the great examination.
I forget whether I told you that I am following a
course of law of M. Eossi, who was a professor of
law at Bologna, and is reckoned very clever. I
like his manner very much, for he enlivens a study

134 MEMOIR.
which of itself is but dull with aU the brightness of
an Italian imagination.
Your flattery (for I must say it Avas such) at the
end of your letter must have been intended to con-
cihate me so that I might not scold your idleness.
However, I repeat again and again that if you are
idle you must quickly amend, or soon it Avill, per
haps, be too late, and you may never acquire those
habits of attention which are so necessary for any
one who devotes himself to the study of the law.^
But you will begin to think me a proser, and per
haps, too, a little impertinent for presuming thus
to advise my elder and superior. However, the
httle ant grovelhng upon the earth sometimes gives
a lesson to man the master of it.
Friendly Criticisms. Rossi's Lectures on 'Roman
History.' Geneva : March 2, 1819.
My dear Walter, — . . . Geneva is very gay
now, and I always try to get over my business by
eight or nine o'clock that I may have the pleasure of
relaxing myself by a ball after a day of hard study.
I have become quite a waltzer, since few quadrilles,
or as they are here caUed country dances, are
danced. However, I beUeve the season finishes
by the middle of this month, and I confess that I
' It was at this time intended that W. F. Hook should make
the law his profession. Vide Life, vol. i. 19, 49, and small ed.
pp. 14,38.

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1810, 135
prefer the relaxation of batliing in this dehghtful
lake in summer to all the .soirees of the winter.
Besides, in summer we always make one or two
toiu's on foot amongst these beautiful mountains,
and lioAv I Avisli that you could make one here
AvitL me ! Hoav dehghtful would it be to wander
toge'frer in some of the most romantic parts of this
most romantic country !
I see that you are stiU a Uttle in Escott's com
pany, by your taking in the paper with him, and I
Avish tiat you Avould learn Avith him, for, though it
may not be very agreeable, I think it might be very
advantigeous to you. I am glad, however, that
you hsLve had enough poAver over yourself to set to
work ir earnest. Your greatest fault, I remember,
waf to Uke the modern classics to the utter exclu-
sioi of the ancient, not forgetting another fault
wHch I know not whether you have yet reformed,
thit of despafring at the least little check that
thvarts your Avishes. These are the only two
failts that I know in you, and they are not of a
very grave nature, although the consequences
night be grave, especiaUy of the last, even in a
noral point of vicAV, if you indulge too much in
hose desponding ideas which are sometimes trace-
ible in your letters, as when you say that you are
sure you never can be virtuous, &c., while you
know at the same time, to use a strong expression,
that ' it is all a lie.' However, forgive me for

136 MEMOIR.
having so long trespassed upon your patience by a
complete sermon, not to mention the impertinence
of my advising and correcting, or rather thinkiag
to correct, one who is my senior in mind as A^'ell
as years. . . .
How often in thinking of the beauty and the
interest of Italy which I hear frequently extoded,
being as it Avere at the very gates, since here
begins the famous road of the Simplon, hive I
figured in my mind a vain imagination of the
happiness I should feel could you and I, just at my
leaving this place, wander together througti that
celebrated and delightful land ! It is a meie fairy
castle without foundation ; yet how deligatful it
would be to meditate together upon that wondrous
wreck of human grandeur, whether one consid^ers
the stately palaces, the forums which resounded
with such eloquence, the temples where triumphait
heroes seemed to command the gods themselves,
aU noAV crumbling to dust ; or whether one coi-
siders the wreck of mind, those orators whose soils
of fire have subsided into the false brilliancy of
modern wit, those heroes who, not content A\dtll
defending their country, sought to outstretch hei
wide limits in their gigantic projects, now dwindled
into men who submit alternately to Austria and
France ! The thing most ridiculous is that the
inhabitants of Eome still say, 'When we were
masters of the Avorld, &c. : ' whereas I should have

CORRESPONDENCE 1818-1819. 137
thought that a modern Itahan Avould not mention
the name of Eome Avithout blushing.
Talking of the Italians reminds me of the
lectures of Signor Eossi, Avhich I find excellent.
He has begun by sketching the origin of human
societies, has then conducted us to the gates of
Eome, and AviU to-night begin a more detailed
account of the Eoman laAv Avhich he will bring
doAvn to the discovery of the Pandects, and will
then compare it Avith the Teutonic law which the
English kept, when the greatest part of the Con
tinent received the Pandects. Eossi is a great
sceptic. He beUeves scarcely a word of the history
of the first 500 years of Eome ; thinks it probable
that Eomulus never existed, certain that he did not
give a name or a Constitution to Eome, Avhich in the
ffrst case would have been called Eomula (a circum
stance which has often struck me), and as to the
second he shows clearly that aU the first institutions
of Eome Avere derived naturaUy from the state of
primitive society. He thinks that the Eomans
were probably a colony from Casre, since, as you
may remember, their wonderful respect for that
toAvn, against which they always hesitated to
declare war, and to which they sent their gods
after the burning of the city, has never been satis-
factorUy explained. Of course he treats as fabu
lous the arrival of ..^neas ; he disbelieves the
account of the origin of Eome from a set of

138 MEMOIR.
robbers, and the story of the Eape of the Sabines.
He thinks that Numa is perhaps only an aUegorical
being, as his name signifies Divine inspiration. AU
this is founded upon many plausible, not to say
good, reasons, which the Umits of a letter will not
permit me to describe. I make extracts at every
lesson, as I have learnt that practice from being
obliged to write down aU that the professors say at
the Auditoire, and these extracts I copy out ; so if
ever you like to take the trouble of perusing them,
you will be able to do so. His style is very luxu
riant, as the Italian style at present generaUy is.

139

CHAPTEE II.
life at CAMBRIDGE  BEGINNING OF PROFESSIONAL LIFE 
MARRIAGE — DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE, A.D. 1828-
1847.
My uncle's letters to his friend from the year 1819
to 1828 have been lost, and we are consequently
deprived of the most faithful mirror of his mind
during that period. His Autobiography, however,
sufficiently indicates how steadily the work of
education and preparation for the career which
lay before him was being carried forward.
His early education, indeed, owing to the
peculiar cfr cum stances in which he was placed
after he left Winchester, had been liberal in a far
more real sense than the ordinary technical mean
ing of that term.
The Avide range of his studies at Geneva, his
intercourse with foreigners, his acquisition of
modern languages, the curious episode of his
journey to England in the suite of Queen Carohne,
his employment as an agent in Italy to procure
evidence for her on her trial, must have made him
in some respects a man of the world at an age
when the experience of most youths has been
confined to home and school.

140 MEMOIR. 1828-
He went up to Cambridge the accomphshed
and cultivated man, rather than the schoolboy
trained merely in scholarship and mathematics.
His father had been excessively vexed by his share
in the rebellion at Winchester, and, not having
himself received a liberal education, was unable
fairly to estimate his son's powers. He was conse
quently dehghted by the visible proof of ability
which he soon displayed at Cambridge in ob
taining a scholarship at Trinity. I have heard my
mother say that she never saw her father, who was
a remarkably self-contained, reserved man, so com
pletely overcome with emotion as when he received
the letter announcing this piece of success. His
son's comparatively low place in the final mathe
matical tripos was no doubt a disappointment,
though easily to be accounted for by the three
causes mentioned in the Autobiography : first, his
dispensing Avith a private tutor from motives of
economy ; secondly, the state of his health ; and
thirdly, a disposition to discursive reading which
no doubt greatly enlarged his mind, but at the
expense of some of that minute technical know
ledge which would be most valuable in a mathe
matical examination. This failure, however, was
amply compensated by success in his first trial for
a Fellowship in 1824, when he was elected over
several other men who had been placed above him
in the tripos, although the greater part of the

-1847. HIS INDUSTRY. 141
pre\dous six months had been spent in reading for
the Bar rather than for the FeUoAvship.
His six months" tour in Italy with Mr. Philpotts
in 1825-26 strengthened his hold upon the Italian
language, of Avhich, as Avell as of French, he became
a consummate master ; Avhile his literary and philo
sophical interests were quickened and developed,
after his return to England, by his intercourse with
the Basil Montagus, and his introduction through
them to the society of S. T. Coleridge and other
eminent Uterary men.
From November 29, 1828, to March 6, 1829,
he kept a Diary, copious extracts from which are
inserted at the close of this chapter. It is a record
of most prodigious industry. From it Ave learn
that in the compass of these three months, although
the larger part of his days and evenings were
occupied in the practice and study of the law, he
read, amongst other works, Warburton's ' Divine
Legation,' considerable portions of Hooker, Collins
on ' Free Thinking ' and Bentley's ' Eeply,' Bentley's
' Phalaris,' Bird's ' Inqufry into the Human Mind,'
Caesar's ' Commentaries,' parts of Homer, of Greek
Plays, and of Theophrastus, besides novels and
other hght hterature. Not only did he find time
to read aU these works, but to write the criticisms
and reflections upon them contained in the Diary,
and long letters on a variety of subjects to his
friend.

142 MEMOIR. 1828-
Undoubtedly, hoAvcA^er, such reading and
Avriting was only the recreation of his leisure
hours, and most of his time and thought was
devoted to the law. To this he was actuated not
only by a sense of duty, and by a natural ambition
to rise in his profession, but by an ardent desfre to
marry. He was deeply attached to his future wife
for seven years before he ventured to declare his
attachment, for he considered that it would be
dishonourable to entangle her in an engagement
before he had acquired a position of complete
independence. It was not till the middle of the year
1829, when he was earning about 1,000?. a year at
the Bar, that he felt justified in making a proposal of
marriage, and even then he thought it right to ask
his father's consent to the step. This he did by
letter, which his father, owing to the preoccupations
of business, kept in his pocket for several days
without answering. The painful anxiety, not to
say agony, of mind which he underwent during
these seven long years of toil, and self-restraint, and
suspense, lest the prize for which he was labouring
should after all be lost, can only be measured by
the intense devotion of his whole life to that prize
after it had been Avon. When he was Lord Chan
ceUor, having to return thanks for his health being
drunk at a dinner given in Trinity, Cambridge, on
the occasion of opening the Cavendish Laboratory,
he combined in one epigrammatic sentence a most

-1847. MARIUED LIFE. 143
happy and graceful compliment to his college and
his wife. ' The day,' he .said, ' on Avhich I became
a FelloAV of Trinity was the i)roudest and happiest
day in my hfe except one, and that Avas the day
on which I ceased to be a FeUow of Trinity.' ^
Never, indeed, Avere the heartstrings of two
human beings so completely intertwined. Neither
husband nor Avife Avas able thoroughly to enjoy any
pleasure Avithout the society of the other, and there
can be no doubt that he valued her company more
than that of the most distinguished or most interest
ing person in the world. All his arrangements for
vacation tours were made with a special view to
her comfort and enjoyment, and his decision in
1852 to accept a judgeship rather than the office
of Solicitor- General Avas unquestionably determined
by his thinking that the demands of the latter
office upon his time in the evening subjected her
to too much loneliness. On the first occasion that
he stayed on official duty as Lord Chancellor at
Balmoral he was invited to remain for a few days
beyond the term of his official attendance ; but he
^ Professor Westcott was so much struck with the saying that he
suggested to the Rev. B. H. Drury that he should turn it into a Latin
epigram. The following is Mr. Drury's version, which he has kindly allowed
me to insert here : —
' Hie dies vitse mihi felicissimus in quo
Ordinihus vestris consociatus eram.
Quid loquor ? ex isdem felicior abstulit hora,
Inque magis grato foedere vinxit Hymen.'

144 MEMOIR. 1828-
dechned on the plea that he was anxious to return
home, as he and his wife had never been so long
separated. The excuse was one which thoroughly
commended itself to Her Majesty's approval, and
she was graciously pleased on the next occasion to
invite Lady Hatherley to accompany her husband.
The two sonnets which he composed and presented
to his wife every year on the anniversaries of her
birth and of their marriage (of which several are
printed at the end of this memoir), are not only
very remarkable memorials of the unfading glow
of his affection, and of the deep religious feeling
which Avas blended with it, but evince very con
siderable skill in the art of verse-making.
The long interval between his marriage in
January 1830, and his entrance into Parhament
and public hfe in 1847, was a calm yet exceedingly
active period. His professional business steadily
increased, and he was often detained at his chambers
till a late hour of the evening ; but he fiUed up the
interstices of his time by reading history, theology,
and philosophy, and by pouring out his thoughts
to his friend in the letters of which the extracts
printed at the end of this chapter are of course
only samples. Two or three remarks may be
made upon these letters.
I. The rarity of any allusions to pohtics.
This was partly, no doubt, owing to a certain
difference between the friends in their political

-1847. CHARj^CTERISTICS OF TIIE LETTERS. 145
views ; but also to the predominant interest of tlie
writer in rehgion, theology, and moral philosophy,
beheving, as he did, that there were no subjects
Avhicli more profoundly and vitally affected the
springs of all human action. Probably few men
ever hved Avho Avere more thoroughly famihar with
every part of the Bible. He had always been a
regular and dihgent student of it, and after his
marriage it Avas his invariable custom to read three
or four chapters daily Avith his wife, by which
method they read through the whole of the sacred
volume every year.
n. The deep sense of sinfulness manifested in
these letters is very remarkable. The expressions,
indeed, of self-accusation which he occasionally
employs in some of his most confidential letters far
exceed in severity any to be found in those which
I have thought proper to pubhsh. Dr. Hook used
to think that he was at one time almost morbid on
this point. If so, the defect was not outwardly
apparent ; but all who knew him well were aware
that the modesty and meekness, which constituted
one of the chief charms of his character, were
mainly due to his deep conviction of the need of
an Atonement, and to his humble and absolute
rehance for salvation on the merits of his Divine
Eedeemer. He was more embarrassed, and at
times even distressed, by the praise which was so
Vol. I. L

146 MEMOIR. 1828-
continually bestowed upon him than any man of
whom I ever heard.
III. In close connexion with these character
istics he seems at times to have been quite oppressed
by a sense of his comparative uselessness. But just
as a sense of sin is one of the surest conditions of
an advance in holiness, so a sense and a dread of
uselessness acted upon him as an incitement to
those works of charity and benevolence in which
he was continually engaged, in Westminster and
elsewhere. His principal anxiety respecting the
great accession of wealth to his father, consequent
on the death of the eccentric miser of Gloucester,
was that it should be weU used. Writing to Dr.
Hook on this subject in April, 1836, he says : 'I
can only ask your prayers that this accession of
worldly means may be a real blessing to my
father. I have witnessed so much his goodness of
heart in the assistance he has at all times afforded
to others, even when he was himself in some diffi
culties, and have so much reason to acknowledge
his kindness to us all in giving us education,
involving him in great expense, in order to enable
us to make our own way, that I have but little
fear that this increased wealth will be employed
by him for good.'
The protracted and costly Utigation respecting
the will by which this wealth was bequeathed to
his father, and the anxious and responsible task

-1847. ACCESSION OF WEALTH. 147
which devolved upon him in connexion with it,
have been recorded in the Autobiography ; but it
is from other sources that we learn how immedi
ately after the final issue of the contest in his
father's favour he began to make other persons
share in his OAvn good fortune. In a letter to Dr.
Hook announcing the result of the final appeal,
October 1841, he writes: 'I have this day sent a
cheque to Glyn's to your account with the
Becketts' bank. You avUI put doAvn the 1001. in
the manner mentioned in my last note, and the
remainder you AviU employ as you Uke. I know
of no other objects that have greater claims upon
me than your church, except one in my own parish
now buUding, and another which I hope will soon
be begun, and one also at Woodbridge, in Suffolk,
the place of my early bringing up ; ' to aU of which
he indicates his intention of contributing.
When Sir Matthew Wood came to reside at
Hatherley Court, in the httle parish of Hatherley,
near Gloucester, about fifty years ago, he started
a school with a fairly efficient teacher in a cottage
on his estate, and maintained it up to his death in
September 1843. Mr. Wood, knoAving that it had
been his father's intention to build a school and
a teacher's residence, lost no time in carrying the
project into effect. In May 1846 he opened in
person the new school, called Sir Matthew Wood's
School, which, with the teacher's house, he had
L 2

148 MEMOIR.
built at his own cost on a site near the parish
church. It was incorporated with the National
Society, and a certificated master was engaged.
Mr. Wood defrayed aU the expenses of the school,
amounting to about 100?. a year, down to the year
1879, when he endowed it Avith a capital sum of
3,300Z. I am indebted for this information to my
cousin, the Eev. H. W. Maddy, who became rector
of the parish in 1856 ; and for some further details
in connexion with this subject I cannot do better
than quote the following passage from his letter
to me : ' From 1846 to 1879, with only two ex
ceptions (one of which was OAving to pressure of
work when he was Lord Chancellor), he anniially
visited the school. Each child, Avithout exception,
was examined by him in secular knowledge, some
three or four hours being given to this work. On
many occasions he kindly and patiently listened
to no less than twenty or thirty recitations by the
scholars. The day of his visit was always looked
forward to with peculiar pleasure, and regarded
as a red letter one in the school year. He always
concluded his annual examination Avith a very
careful testing of the religious teaching. His
catechisings were always Ustened to Avith the
deepest interest and dehght, both old and young
present feeling that they were being addressed by
a singularly humble-minded and deeply rehgious
Christian man, and being shown how helpful the

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 149
true teaching of the Anghcan Church was in real
life. It was my privilege to hear more than
tAventy-five of these catechisings, and I can thank
God for the opportunity.'
In one of the letters Avhich are inserted at the
close of this chapter, bearing date April 22, 1836,
he relates that he and his Avife had become teachers
in the Sunday schools of St. John's parish, West
minster. This labour of love they carried on till
the yeai" 1877, when advancing age and increasing
infirmities warned them that it was time to retire.
The touching letter to Archdeacon Jennings, an
nouncing thefr intention of resigning, avUI be found
in its proper place.
The first extract which I have given from his
Diary is a part of the first entry ; but only a small
part. The day was the anniversary of his birth,
and he began his Diary with a deeply devout address
to God, which occupies several pages of manuscript,
and is too long and of too private a nature for
pubhcation. He pours forth his gratitude for the
' numerous and continual mercies which I have
received from infancy to the present hour.'
Amongst which he places first, ' that I was born
of Christian parents, and trained up early in habits
of piety.' And last, ' that I have been enabled to
attain the independence which I have ever re
garded as the chief of earthly blessings.' There
is a prayer ' that I may not be elated in heart by

150 MEMOIR.
the recollection of these and other sources of joy
and thanksgiving, or attribute to my own worthi
ness in Thy sight that which Thou hast so bounti
fully bestowed on me and mine.' And there is a
declaration : ' I do most heartily from mine inmost
soul promise a more perfect obedience unto Thy
wUl henceforth, until that awful moment arrive
when I must give an account, as weU of my past
actions, as of the fulfilment of this present vow.'
Such was the spirit in which he entered upon
that period of his hfe of which the following selec
tions from his Diary and letters will supply a full and
faithful picture : —
' November 29, 1828. — This day is, I believe, the
anniversary of my first brief, as well as of my
bfrth, and I have, by my father's interest, earned
about 600 guineas in the course of the past year.
There was a considerable degree of good fortune
in this, particularly in my Parhamentary business,
which constitutes more than tAVO-thirds of the
whole. I must not, therefore, expect equal success
this year ; but, with the assistance of my FeUow
ship, independence is at least secured for some
years. Happiness (as far as this world is con
cerned) must, I fear, be delayed some time longer.
I have decidedly made no way in obtaining any
further clients by displaying unusual ability, but
I do not think that I have lost the good opinion
of any who have entrusted me with business, by

DM.RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 151
betraying incompetency. Sure I am that I have
exerted aU the poAvers Avhich I possess, as far as
any individual ease has presented itself to me,
though I fear I liaA'e not made the best use of the
time aUowed me for the improvement of these
powers. ... I lia\'e long been struck Avith the
dreadful state of our sanguinary code of criminal
law. The broad fact is apparent to almost any
one who can think at all that au indiscriminate
inffiction of the scA-erest punishment upon crimes
differing materiaUy in their consequences, both
to society and to the moral character of the per
petrator, must not only fail to deter, but, where
any additional object can be attained, actually
stimulate the offender by offering a premium for
the commission of the greater enormity, in the
shape of an increased chance of profit upon an
equal hazard of faUure.' (After criticising at great
length the existing laws, and various proposed
amendments, the writer proceeds.) ' This subject
has long hung heaA'y upon my heart, but more
especiaUy so since the foUoAving circumstance oc
curred to me : I had left one evening the sick
bed of a young and near relative, then little ex
pected to survive an attack from which it has
pleased God to deliver her. Although unshaken
at the prospect of death she had yet made the
natural remark, " It seems hard to be caUed away
at five-and-twenty." I had walked home with her

152 MEMOIR.
words yet sounding in my ears. On my return at
an early hour the next morning, eager to hear
whether the past night had left any room for hope,
I was obliged to pass by the Old Bailey, and the
mob which surrounded me warned me that an
execution was about to take place. I could not
help inquiring the circumstances, and learned to
my horror that six victims of our accursed system
of penal law were about to suffer death, of whom
the eldest had not reached the age of five-and-
twenty, and not one of them had been guilty of
blood. Yet here was a crowd uttering coarse
jokes, and rushing Avith savage ferocity to witness
the perpetration of a legal enormity which was to
desolate six famihes, whilst I had felt overwhelmed
with grief at the anticipation of the possible loss
of a young relation, dying in undisturbed tran-
quiUity of mind, and surrounded by kind friends-
who would find and bestow consolation in reflect
ing upon the promises held out to us by our
blessed Eedeemer ! . . . I trust that I shaU never
forget the scene, nor the feelings which it inspired.'
' November 30. ... I read after breakfast a
little of Pistorius's comment on Hartle)^ having
during the last six weeks perused the " Obser
vations " of the latter. Neither the author
nor the commentator appeared to me to be more
happy than their predecessors in reconcUing fatahsm
with morality. It must be clear to everybody that

DLA.RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1838-1847. 153
fatahsm leaves us just as Ave are, and that it is im
possible to extract any rule of conduct from it.
Hartley's "Eule of Life," which is truly beautiful,
and contains many valuable suggestions, is no
proof of the contrary. If he says that his rule
is a part of the pre-ordained system, the same
might be said by any other moraUst of any other
rule. There is a fine instance, however, in Hart
ley's noble sentiments and morahty of the foUy
of the common supposition that this or that doc
trine must infaUibly lead to this or that result,
and consequently the book is only fit for the
flames. There is a very close connexion between
Hartley's doctrine and Spinoza's, and yet the
former deduces his proof of revelation from that
which, in the hands of the other, has become pure
atheism. Again, startled as we may be by the
latter word, the morahty in the " De Libertate
Humana" of Spinoza is most noble, and his con
duct, I beheve, corresponded with it. In cominon
justice to every author his whole doctrine and its
consequences must be taken together.'
'¦December 1. . . . Made considerable way in
Williams's reports, which I am reading in order to
fortify myself with the ammunition of cases, Avith
out which our artillery of general principles is of
little practical use. This course of reading was
recommended me when I began to study the law.
It would then, I think, have been useless. I have

154 MEMOIR.
now, I hope, pretty weU digested (thanks, above aU,
to Blackstone in the first instance) the crude mass
of principles which form the basis of our juris
prudence, where, by dint of playing the civil against
the feudal law, we should ere this have been in a
glorious state of confusion, but for the separation
of our Courts of equity from those of common law.
I now with pleasure find that there is but httle to
which I am a total stranger in any of the reported
cases I am reading, and can therefore suffer each
case to amalgamate with those similar to it in my
memory, and to combine with them in estabhshing
principles, which I trust I may bear in mind when
the dispersed particles which formed it are dis
solved. ' Of hght reading I have read some of the
correspondence between Warburton and Hurd,
which is very interesting. There is a freedom
and openness of thought and heart in the former
which contrasts much to his advantage with the
oUy smoothness of the latter. Warburton is
" veteris non parens aceti," it is true, but you
know the worst at once.'
' December 2. . . . Eead a Uttle more of War-
burton's correspondence. The latter speaks highly
of Malebranche, and makes a very just observation
on the hasty malevolence which runs down an
author for a single foUy. I have also read some
more of the commentary of Pistorius. His ex-

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 155
planatioii of the mechanical philosophy is very
ingenious and clearer than that of Hartley, from
being selected and brought into one point of view ;
though I Avould by no means detract from the
great beauty of demonstration in Hartley, with
which aU his propositions are hnked almost im
perceptibly together. I cannot, however, say that
I am satisfied Avith either. Take Pistorius, for
instance, on repentance. Should I repent as much
of a jump by which I broke my leg, as of a lie
or other moral offence ; or, rather, can I be said to
repent of both ? The feeling is so different that
different words ought obviously to be resorted to.
Then, again, what forces us to exclude certain
motives so as to be actuated by others only ? Do
we not dehberately exclude them ? Can I not at
wUl start an idea, or train of ideas, totaUy un
connected with the last preceding idea ? This is
the whole question, and, as far as experience can
inform me, I answer in the affirmative. What other
criterion can I take ? I read Archbishop King's
" Origin of Evil " last August, and confess I very
much liked it. I do not deny that absurdities can
be pressed in his arguments, but the subject is not
free from absurdities taken either way.'
' December 5. . , . One decided objection, in
my opinion, to the moral consequences of the doc
trine of necessity is the impossibility of inferring
the existence of a Deity. We are so formed as

156 MEMOIR.
only to reason from analogy ; take away all free
will from man, he can understand it in nothing
else ; there will be but an infinite series of events,
and no origin .of aU things. All reasoning as to
design (Paley's watch, &c.) is done away with ;
the " watch " is a mere concurrence of the mecha
nical motives inducing the maker to form it, and is
no proof of design according to the necessitariaii,
for man can have no design. Our notions of the
DiAdne attributes are but extensions to infinity of
properties with which we are acquainted; and if
we know nothing which originates, neither can we
suppose anything of that description ; everything
will be in time ; and here, I think, the grand objec
tion hes that there is no distinction made between
the conceiver and the conceived ; the thinker is
nothing but a mass of thoughts without anything
to link them together.
' I do not think that Hartley's proof of an ori
ginating Being offers any solution ; he only exhibits
the difficulty by saying that if you account for one
member of a finite series by the preceding you are
not advanced ; but if you may go back to eternity
you may still go back by finite beings just as the
velocity of a body may be finite, though acquired
in falling to a given centre frorn an infinite distance.
Philosophical free-will is said to be mere chance —
madness, &c. This may be if exercised contrary
to God's will ; but then there is a choice allowed

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 157
of not being mad or desperately Avicked, etc., and
we only contend for that choice Avhicli may be the
very thing rendering our following God's will
vfrtuous ; and this is the only Avay to me of re-
concihng free-will with regulated order.'
¦ "¦ December 11. — Went to Coleridge's Avith Mr.
and Mrs. Montagu and Irving in the evening. I
was pleased Avith a reply of the latter to a lady
who complained that Blomfield, the Bishop of
London, had preached a sermon for a female orphan
school in Avhich he had enlarged on the old topics
of the influence of women on society. " My dear
madam, these old truths are old because they are
fundamental, and they are the truths which must
be impressed on our minds ; they cannot be urged
too often. . . ." We found a large party at Highgate,
and Coleridge was very entertaining. He read us
a fine passage from a manuscript on the foolish
objection to theory and demand for facts. " Such
men," he observed, are " preparing thefr souls for
the office of turnspit at the next metempsychosis."
But I cannot go along with him in rejecting
Bacon's theory of induction as the groundwork of
an insight into general laws. Coleridge has indi
cated this in the " Friend," and quoted a ludicrous
passage from Hooke, who requfres ten times more
from the philosopher than Cicero did from the
orator. Bacon may have gone too far in his zeal
against hasty generahsation. If, indeed, a man

158 MEMOIR.
love his own fame better than truth, he will, when
he has once generalised, tAvist every fact to his own
theory ; but we must have data to guide our
imaginations ; we must assume theories, and deduce
results from our assumptions, which we compare
Avith those deduced from experience, and thus
attain the correct result. . . . Coleridge appears to
attribute invention to a species of inspiration, which
I suspect will be found to be vouchsafed only to
those whose minds are well stored Avith facts. It
is a species of gipsy prophecy in some cases, and we
are astonished because we know not the individual's
habits of observation. This, too, would account
for the same theories being invented in different
parts of the globe. Could any but a first-rate
mathematician have hit upon the general laws of
fluxion ? '
^December 13. — ... In the evening read a
considerable part of Plato's " Phsedo." The doctrine
of the relative nature of our ideas is one of the
greatest importance in my opinion, as a key to the
chief metaphysical difficulties in our inqufries after
the sources of our knowledge, &c., but is not
applicable to the purpose for which Socrates is
made to enforce it — viz. the eternal nature of the
soul. It is obvious that a law of the soul itself
cannot give us any information as to its essence,
any more than the law of gravity can inform us of
its cause. The contrast expressed by " dying and

DIARY .iND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 159
living " might Avitli equal propriety be expressed by
the act of " being and not being," and then the
conclusion against the argument is at once ap
parent. . . . I heard a man of talent, the other day,
inveighing against pubhc speaking and poetry, as
imperfect modes of expressing our ideas. I ques
tion whether algebraic expression of all our
thoughts Avould conduce to our happiness.'
' December ] 6. — Conveyancing in the morning.
Eead some of TyrreU's suggestions for the ameh-
oration of the laAv of real property. I confess that
he appears to me to deserve considerable credit for
the pains he has taken. He has not only pointed
out difficulties — a task very easy — but has suggested
sound remedies. It is to be feared that the aris
tocracy Avill not consent to many important altera
tions, the aboUtion of tenures, &c. ; and the
commissioners, therefore, must act like politicians ;
they must propose, not the best laws, but the best
which the majority of the world, or rather of the
ruling powers, AAdll accept.'
' December 17. — ^Finished Hurd and Warburton's
correspondence. On the whole it is not very
worthy of two Christian bishops. There is too
little meekness and general kindness to all men.
Old Montaigne has well remarked that if Christians
were what they profess to be, we should have the
necessary conclusion, " Sont-ils si bons, si doux, .
si charitables? Us sont done chretiens." Much

160 MEMOIR.
might be written on the application of Christianity
to everyday intercourse. Politeness in the usual
acceptation bears the same relation to genuine
Christian kindness as honour does to inOre impor
tant moral doctrines. A man of perfect politeness
may wound the feelings of his neighbours, and even
make such occupation his amusement, if he does
but observe certain conventional forms ; just as the
man of honour may seduce his neighbour's Avife or
daughter, provided he shoots the husband after
wards, or gives him a chance of doing the same to
the seducer.' ^
' December 18.^In the evening with the Mon
tagus and Irving to Highgate. Coleridge was in
fuU vigour of intellect, and his conversation, which
took a theological turn, as is generaUy the case
when Irving is there, was briUiant and at the same
time of great depth and interest. . . . Coleridge's
sentiments are formed on the Lutheran exposition
of the Gospel scheme, which he considers to be
derived from the exposition given by St. Paul and
St. John, the two most gifted apostles. He con
ceives a genuine faith is the gradual substitution
of Christ's reviving influence which causes the
natural man to throw off as it were, by successive
sloughs, the mortal vices. He conceives that an
internal Church which " cometh not by observa
tion" is preparing in the minds of men ; whilst an ex
ternal Church must at the same time, by its salutary

U^L'lii.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 161
influence on the mind, keep up the internal action
which Avould otherAvise gradually wear out ; that
this Avas the scheme ordained from the beginning
of our earth and the very object of its existence, at
least after the fall ; that the JcAvish prophets looked
forward to an eternal life by redemption, as the
expressions of Ezekiel, for instance, " that the
Avicked man turning away from his wickedness
shall save his soul ahve," have otherwise no
meaning, being certainly physically incorrect ; that
CAdl is merely subjective, not objective ; that it is
falsehood, the devil, who is a har from the begin
ning, Avishing to reconcUe the impossibilities of
being at the same time a creature, and yet equal to
the Creator. He finely Ulustrated the subjective-
ness of evil producing objective good by supposing
the parts of a machine in a manufactory to be
animated, and anxious to tear and bruise each other,
and the manufactured article, which, at last, however,
arrives at perfection by this very means. This, it
is true, leaves untouched the origin of evil, and
perhaps favours too much the doctrine of necessity.
IrAdng is, I think, a fine, high-spirited enthusiast ;
but enthusiasm is very dangerous ; its least fatal
effect is vanity, which may overcome us in our
very humility and self-abasement. But let me not
criticise others ; God knows I have enough to con
demn in myself.'
'¦December 21. Sunday. — St. Margaret's Church.
Vol. I. M

162 MEMOIR.
At night read several chapters of Epistle to the
Eomans. Correctly understood, they state no more
than this : that if a man have faith he must be
good ; from which it would logically follow that if
he be not good he cannot have faith ; but the first
is a most dangerous doctrine for those who are not
used to reason, and should never be cited except to
be explained.' ' December 23. — ^In the evening amused myself
with a little of Bentley's " Phalaris." How unfor
tunate that erudite men are so seldom gifted with
his splendid logical force and pungent wit ! He
plays with his adversaries before he vouchsafes the
death-stroke. The cui bono ? may perhaps he
asked of this learning. I know " not any other
answer than that, if it be worth while to know
anything, it must be worth while to know it well,
which, indeed, is the only real knowledge. The
detection of fabrication is manifestly of great
importance to the Christian world ; though, for my
own part, I should go so far as to say that, if none
of the preserrt Gospels Avere written at the time
alleged, their internal evidence is sufficient proof of
a Divine revelation, whether committed to writing
at once, or handed down by tradition. " Never
man spake as He spake," is the fact upon which we
might base our faith, combined Avith the unex
plained, uncontradicted account, traditionary or
otherwise, of the Eesurrection.'

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 163
' Deceiiiiier 24. — Equity draAving in the morning,
and part of the evening at an abstract. Eead
Theophrastus on courting popularity (apeo-^eta), on
loquacity, on newsmongers, on impudence, on
meanness. Many of the traits are very dehcately
touched, and are as apphcable at the present
day to ourselves as they were two thousand years
since to the Athenians ; so much does man re
semble man, whatever interval of time or space
separates us. The \a\ia is not kept sufficiently
distinct from the aSoXecrj^ta ; by the latter appears
to be meant talking on a A^ariety of subjects from
a fondness for gossiping ; the former sheer talking
for talking's sake ... In the dpda-Keia the asking
for the chUdreri after dinner, and finding out that
they are as hke their father as two figs, brings us
quite home.
' Being Christmas Eve I read the first chapters of
St. Luke, and I also continued to read the Epistle to
the Eomans. The ninth chapter is certainly very
difficult. Butler's analogical reasoning is, I think,
valuable in these cases. It shows us that the diffi
culty is equal whether we be Deists or Christians.
Now it may be said that this is only shifting the
ground ; but surely it is a point gained if we can
show that nothing but fatahsm, or atheism, or
perhaps, indeed, nothing but the latter, can explain
the difficulty ; for we then increase the opposing
M 2

164 MEMOIR,
difficulties which bring us back to the point
whence we started, either as Deists or Christians.
A system of belief is, in fact, necessary for us as
agents ; no man was ever practicaUy sceptical, for,
as Montaigne says, if he were, he could converse
only in interrogatives. That behef, therefore,
must be adopted which exhibits the fewest difficul
ties. In the case in question our notion of moral
virtue is certainly shocked by the supposition of
the election of Jacob from the womb. Yet are
not men born in every species of rank in life, of
virtuous or vicious parents, who Avill, of course,
subject them to their own habits and conditions of
life, healthy or diseased, rich or poor, and so on?
The free Avill of God must be our only criterion of
right or Avrong. If I had time I would enter into
a proof of my notion that it is the fixed truth
which constitutes all that we are to aim at, either
in physical or moral researches — the only fixed
point from which our calculations can be formed as
to future consequences. It is this fixed nature of
God's will which renders every deviation from
what we have previously regarded as His AviU
shocking to our reason ; but we must be satisfied
that we do not clearly understand one of the
questions when such uncertainty arises. The re
warding of the labourers at the eleventh hour is
a paraphrase of this doctrine.'

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 16.5
' December 27 — Eead at night St. John's last
chapters, preparatory to my taking the Sacrament
of Holy Communion to-morrow.'
' December 28. — Thanks be to Thee, Almighty
God, that Thou hast vouchsafed unto me again to
approach Thy Altar. Forgive, I beseech Thee,
through the merits of Thy blessed Son, the re
peated violation of my most solemn internal reso
lutions ; and may the Spirit of peace, which He
hath promised to those Avho trust in Him, so
powerfriUy operate on my affections and thoughts
as to eradicate all self-conceit, efface all impurity,
and strengthen that faith which hath never been
extinguished although dimmed by worldly vapours,
untU I acqufre the blessed frame of mind which
may render me ever a meet partaker of this Thy
Holy Institution here, and of Thy eternal joy here
after ! Hear me. Almighty God, Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost. Amen.
' Eead at night the beautiful thirty-first chapter
of Job. The reproof of Elihu is one of the most
wonderful chapters in the Old Testament, and so
also is the last chapter in the book. Eead also
several of St. Luke's parables.'
^December 29. — ^Law in the morning. In the
evening' read some of the characters in Theo-
phrastus. That on ' blackguardism ' — for I know
no other word for ^SekvpCa — is a curious picture of

166 MEMOIR.
manners. How can Casaubon translate a.vaia-d'qa'ia
by stupiditas, when aU the characteristics ate
those ofthe absent man ? — a very different character
from the stupid. I am not aware tliat the Latin
word expressed absence of mind, nor can I at this
moment recaU any word in that language which
does. It must be aUowed, however, that there is
scarcely a sufficient difference in some of the
characters given by Theophrastus ; yet where in
nature they are so nearly intermingled, it is diffi
cult to keep the shades wholly distinct. There are
some decided colours in the rainbow, but there are
others which blend with these, and form new com
posite lines. The dvaicrxyvTta and ^SeKvpia are akin,
and so is the latter with airoi^oia.'
' January 8, 1829. — Eeading election law in the
morning. In the evening went to see the tragedy
of " Eienzi." What a noble subject ! It has often
struck me as a fine theme for tragedy, which wa,s,
perhaps, the reason why I was disappointed Avith
Miss Mitford's. This is no presumption on my
part. Our fancy often soars above our powers of
expression ; and I should have written a much
worse play, though I should have imagined a
better one. The only powerful passage is that in
which Eienzi announces the union which wiU be
effected by the common hatred of the Orsini and
the Colonna towards himself; and there are some

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 167
oramatic strokes which tell Avell. The scenes
betAveen Eienzi and Angelo and that between the
fonner and his daughter are the most effective.
Wliat an example does Eienzi's history afford us
of the impossibihty of creating ancAv feehngs which
have once perished ! He galvaiused Eome, but he
could not recaU her to hfe. We may philoso-
phicaUy adopt the pohtical fervour of Alcseus, and
say with soberness that oh \idoi viiM £,vXa
out£ 7"£'x''») rtk.Tui'oij' (I't TToAeis t'lai)', uXX' ijitov
TTOr av UKTiv avSp^e avruve awi^etr tlSoreg, ii'TaUBa ku'i
What connexion had the Eomans of the four
teenth century with the conquerors of the world ?
Of aU which sprang from the fervid ambition of
the latter a few mouldering ruins alone remain in
the yet uneffaced labours of the architect, or the
more precious relics of the orator or the states
man ; but the mighty energy of AviU cannot be
generated by those frail and silent monuments.
The consciousness of surrounding weakness gave
the first impulse to the cupidity of the hardy and
' This passage, which is not quite correctly quoted in my uncle's
MS., occurs in Aristides II. 273 ; who, however, refers to thesaying as
having been originaUy uttered by Aloseus, and afterwards adopted as
a kind of proverb.
The line in Alcseus to which Aristides aUudes is doubtless the
following : — Avdpcs rroXrjos Trvp^yos apevioi. — Fragment 20.

168 MEMom.
daring settlers on the Palatine. They struggle^
for existence ; they fought for the fiocks and herds
which grazed upon the neighbouring pastures, for
the corn and the vine which enriched the sdl.
The conquered became one people with the con
querors, who were anxious only to secure support,
and joined with the former in the cultivation of
the united territory. At such a time was Cincin-
natus caUed from the plough to the Dictatorship.
But the rich, though distant, plain of Campania
extended itself before the eyes of these maitial
agriculturists, and they longed for the enjoyment
of plenty, unaccompanied by the necessity for
labour. Wealth then began to be accumulated,
and their projects aimed no longer at competeace,
but abundance. The physical wants being thus
supphed, imagination began to play its part ; then
came ambition with its innumerable attendant
virtues and vices, from which moment, were I
disposed to write an essay, I could trace, I think;
the future fate of Eome down to the present day,
and show its agreement with the general laws
which society has hitherto followed.'
' January 10. — Finished Eoe's book on Election
Law. I have now made some way in Eeid's work
on the Mind. I can, I think, sufficiently trace all
his errors up to their source ; namely, his ignor
ance of the principle of comparison which is the
characteristic of our mind, and is in fact the only

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 169
means of the development of its poAvers. One sees
from his A-ery first observation on sensation, and the
behef, as he terms it, suggested by it, that he does
not feel disposed to admit the fundamental axiom
that, if we had but one sensation, we should have
none, or, to speak less paradoxically, that we
cannot have one sensation. We must be able to
discriminate in order to be conscious. An anec
dote of Biot affords an illustration. The French
astronomer, accompanied by Guy Lussac, ascended
into the clouds in a balloon. They were both
much alarmed by the balloon suddenly becoming
stationary, as they thought. They threw out
baUast, but this appeared to have no effect ; thej^
let out the gas, stiU they remained suspended in
niid-afr. At last their alarm was transferred to a
totaUy different cause upon their perceiving, as
they emerged from the clouds, that they were
descending at a fearfuUy rapid rate, and had been
doing so in fact for some time, but when in the
clouds could not discover their motion for want of
any fixed object Avith which to compare it. Hence
we may gather that the idea of motion, as well as
of tangible figure and extension, are deduced from
the comparison of two or more sensations, as may
easily be shown. But I hasten to Eeid's great
mistake, that of supposing that visible figure can
exist independently of colour. Mr. Fearne has
demonstrated this to be a palpable absurdity ; but

170 MEMOIR,
without vanity I may say that I have considered
this as a self-evident truth ever since I read
Berkeley, which was, I beheve, in the year 1820 ;
and I began a paper when I was at Cambridge,
which I stiU possess, the object of which was to
show that we cannot have any one sensation alone,
or know that anything is hard, soft, &c., without
having two or more sensations to compare, whence
the proposition as to visible figure immediately
flows. How can a figure be visible on a red sur
face unless the hues marking, or rather trying to
mark, it be of a different colour from the marked
surface.? How could a bhnd man ascertain the
existence of any tangible figure traced on a
polished surface, unless the surface were raised,
roughed, or otherAvise distinguished to his finger .?
But all this, again, is a fit subject for an essay.'
' January 11. Sunday. — St. Margaret's Church.
Learn from Billing, who has just returned from
France, the extraordinary agitation of the public
mind which now exists there. He has promised to
lend me Cousin's lectures on Plato.
' At night read the beautiful passage in " Para
dise Lost " of the revolt of Satan and the faithful
firmness of Abdiel. Such may I be, 0 God ! but
how ill prepared as yet am I for that purity of faith !
The introduction of the passage from the Psalms,
" this day have I begotten Thee," coupled with the
preceding "on a day," &c., is not happy; though

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 171
it is clear, from the verses immediately preceding
and succeeding, that the hyper-Arian sense Avhich
might be attributed to the expression was fai' from
MUton's mmd.'
'¦January 14. — Conveyancing. In the evening
read half of the third book of Caesar's " Commen
taries." It is indeed a fine monument of his power
ful inteUect. It is a clear and masterly sketch of
his mUitary operations, as far as I can judge of such
matters, and at the same time wholly elevated
above the Ioav vanity of exaggerating his achieve
ments by dUating unnecessarily upon the formid
able nature of his opponents. He had no reason to
exaggerate. Well may Bacon say that the exploits
of Csesar and Alexander are grander than the
feigned adventures of Amadis or Arthur ! . . .
' WhUst speaking of Cassar's noble and ingenuous
narrative I am brought back to the consideration of
the curious psychological question of motives to
action. To almost every exceUence might an
apphcation be made of the hne descriptive of the
truly benevolent, who " do good by stealth,
and blush to find it fame." I have heard of a
powerful comparison of virtue in this respect to
Eurydice ; if you look back on her, she flies. It
is hence the great object of the Christian religion
to prevent all thoughts of our own merit ; and
surely, however difficult the doctrine of the Atone
ment may appear to some, it will not be denied by

172 MEMOIR.
the Unitarian himself that it produces a beneficial
effect by tending to subdue that pride which frre-
sistibly follows the contemplation of our own worth.
Yet that school would refer all notions of worth
to the securing to ourselves the enjoyment of the
greatest and most durable pleasures, and thus per
petually turn our thoughts to the complacent con
templation of our superior abUities, inasmuch as
virtue becomes mere talent, and vice miscalcula
tion. Is this calculating system that which is
usually found to produce happiness in its more
usuaUy visible forms ? I think not. The child
caresses you, and this certainly generates love on
your part, and ensures, so far, the happiness of the
child. But had the child calculated on this effect,
would it have been as happy in the result ? or had
you known of such calculation, would the result
have been obtained ? I think I may answer,.
Assuredly not. No ! the principle of love is, I am
persuaded, a something primary, a part of our
existence which is in itself pleasurable and at the
same time irresistible. It is this which appears to
me to have been man's natural state in Paradise,
and which wiU be his state hereafter ; and this love
is described by St. Paul (our translation has it,
" charity," from the Latin caritas, " dearness "), as
not being puffed up and as enduring for ever.
' I have wandered widely from Ceesar ; but, if it
were not too long a task, I think I could show that

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 173
the enjoyment of talent is destroyed by the frequent
contemplation of it in the possessor, and sinks into
an enjoyment depending on the breath of others,
Avhich may be Avithheld for the express purpose of
creating a mortification they feel they have the
power to inflict ; real talent forming, almost uncon
sciously to itself, the very same approbation ; and
as South beautifully expresses himself, Avhen speak
ing of AviU and reason, it may then be said to
triumph, though draAvn on as the chariot in the
procession of a Eoman conqueror.'
^January 17. — . . . Evening at home, and
looked through Scott's " Heart of Midlothian " again.
There is more true pathos in the character of
Jeannie Deans, the combination of her subhme
vfrtue Avith her humble simphcity, than in any
other novel which Scott has written.'
' January 21. — My dear mother's birthday.
Long may she hve to enjoy our congratulations on
its return ! How much do we — how much do I —
owe to her ! A very large proportion of that high
moral feeling which distinguishes the middle class
of married Englishmen may be traced to their hav
ing known the blessings of a home under the care
of kind and affectionate women. God forgive
me all my wickednesses ; I feel them powerfully at
this moment and deplore them, but had I never
known the care of a mother I had been yet
worse.'

174 MEMOIR.
'¦January 25. — I heard to-day an excellent
sermon, from my friend Hook, at the Chapel Eoyal
— the subject well selected — the conversion of the
treasurer of Queen Candace, Avith an application
to those who make wealth or politics the business
of life. 'After church walked with Hook and his
uncle Theodore. The perpetual flow of humour
in the latter, with occasional rallies of genuine Avit,
make it impossible to feel any anger towards him
Avhilst in his company, yet never was the character
of one Qui captat risus hominum famamque dicacis,
more completely exemplified, . . . dummodo risum
Excutiat sibi, non hie cuiquam parcet amico.
What, then, can poUtical opponents expect ? Yet
is he more to be pitied than condemned. His
vivacity renders him morbidly briUiant, and his
keen sense of the ridiculous converts his exuberant
spirit into satire. There appears to be no ill-
temper in him, and I believe that for the moment
he would be shocked at the idea of inflicting pain,
but he would offend the next instant"; and when,
through the medium of the press, he can attack,
without hearing any complaint from the sufferers,
and is at the same time flattered by the encourag
ing laugh of his own coterie, he is regardless of aU

DL\.RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 175
consequences. I can easily imagine that he would
feel great pleasure in tying crackers to the coats
of the mourners at a ftmeral, Avithout stopi)ing to
inquire Avhether they Avere parents following a de
ceased child, or undertakers' assistants merely
hired for the solemnity.'
' January 29. — In the morning finished the
Eeport of Vernon, as far as to Lord Nottingham's
death. Eead some of Lord Guildford's decisions.
The inferiority is striking.
' In the evening Avdth B. Montagu to Coleridge's.
He had been seized with a fit of enthusiasm for
Donne's poetry, Avhich I think somewhat unac
countable. There was great strength, however, in
some passages which he read. One stanza or
rather division of his poem, on the " Progress of
the Soul," struck me very much ; it was, I think,
the fourth, in which he addresses Destiny as the
" Knot of Causes." The rest of the poem seemed
the effusion of a man very drunk or very mad.
' Coleridge launched forth at some length upon
Bacon's inductive method, at the request of Mon
tagu. I think he clearly failed in his attempt to
depreciate experiment. The instances he selected —
namely, the continued observation of the heavenly
bodies, which led to nothing more than the
Ptolemaic system, till Kepler's time, and his still
more favourite one of the isolated nature of the
facts attending magnetism and electricity till the

176 MEMOIR.
present day — may tend to show that the experientid
Uterata is nothing without a master-mind, which
Bacon himself asserts ; but if Coleridge means
anything, he must mean that Kepler could have
equaUy demonstrated his laws by one single obser
vation, as from the result of the observations of
ages ; a proposition which cannot be maintained.
The fact is, we consider too little the effect upon
us from infancy of the knowledge of our age. A
child of eight or nine knows more of the figure of
our earth when you show him a globe, than any
philosopher of early antiquity. It becomes a fixed
truth in his mind, and he looks upon it as a datum
whence he can reflect, instead of spending a hfe
in satisfying himself of the fact. But go back a
Uttle further, and think what must have been the
efforts of those men who invented letters, the
fruits of whose labours are fully reaped by many
a child of four years old. Thus is our labour in
experiment abridged ; and, however Hooke and
others, by carrying the system to extremes, may
have deformed and caricatured the inductive phi
losophy, there is no other method of discovering
truth, as distinguished from the dreams of those
who, Uke the schoolmen, deserted nature in its
objective form, to amuse themselves Avith the
creatures of their own imagination. To use
Coleridge's favourite simile, the human mind may
be the kaleidoscope, but it is a dull instrument if

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 177
there be no extrinsic object to work upon. He
was happy in one image, not so much as an illus
tration, but as a pleasing touch of fancy. He
said that Nature had for ages appeared to wish to
communicate her stores of higher knoAvledge by
the phenomenon of the compass, but that she was
too distant from us, and we could only watch the
trembhng of her hps without catching the sound.'
' February 2. — Eeading law in the morning, and
also the greater part of the fifth book of Csesar's
" Commentaries." ' In the evening read a part of Warburton's
" DiAdne Legation." The dedication is a very fine
onslaught upon the desperate foUy of those who,
by perpetually sneering, cease to enjoy one ele
vated thought. . . . The slightest point in com
mon between two objects is sufficient for the ribald
scoffer who neglects all differences if he can find
one point of resemblance for Ms Avit to fasten
upon ; or rather in the differences, contrasted Avith
the one point of resemblance, he finds the neces
sary material to excite laughter. Thus the gown
and bands of a preacher put upon a monkey
would no doubt make a ridiculous figure ; but. one
is far from inferring that the monkey and the
preacher are in reality equally absurd, and so long
as the contrcLst only excites laughter, the laughers
may be most innocent ; but when the sneerer
would endeavour to make you laugh again upon
Vol. I. N

178 MEMOIR.
seeing the preacher in his pulpit, by insinuating
some resemblance between him and the ape, then
he becomes mischievous, as anxious to overthrow
all calm reflection.'
' February 4. — ^In the evening read Bishop
Hare's ^ tract on the " Difficulties and Discourage
ment attending a Study of the Holy Scriptures."
It undoubtedly Avas ironical, as Warburton repre
sents it in his preface to the " Divine Legation,"
and intended as a satfre on the bigots of the day ;
but, from the laboured apology for Whiston and
Clarke, one Avould naturally be led to conclude
that the author was an Arian. The only doubt as
to whether any part of the book be serious, must
arise upon the first difficulty mentioned, namely,
the language and various readings of the Scrip
tures ; yet I cannot beheve that so deep-thinking a
man as the author appears to be, could really have
felt much difficulty in this matter, except as wield
ing the argument against those who insist on
minute dogmas, depending on a few doubtful
texts. To such persons it may be formidable
enough ; but the spirit of the Gospel must be as
intelligible as that of the " Iliad " or " iEneid," and its
general facts as clearly stated ; and, in spite of the
various readings of these two books, I suppose no
' Francis Hare, Bishop of Chichester 1731-1740 ; great-grand
father of Julius and Augustus Hare. See my Memorials of tlie See
of C/iichester, p. 309. — Ed.

DI.VRY AND CORRESPONDENCE 18i.^-1847. 179
one ever doubted that the one began with the
quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon, and
ended with the burial of Hector ; and the other
began AAdth the voyage of .33neas, and ended with
the death of Turnus.'
' February 5. — This evening read through
CoUins's " Discourse of Free Thinking," a book of
more Avit than weight. The absurdities of some
divines are ingeniously brought together, though
their genuine talent is not unfrequentiy misrepre
sented by the quotation of single passages, as for
instance from Jeremy Taylor's "Friendship," to show
that it is not inculcated by Christianity. . . . The
commencement of his Thfrd Satire is the best
answer to himself " I have frequently observed,"
says he, " in conversation, that men are more led
by certain difficulties and objections, which they
pick up, to reject what is certain and true, than
they are to admit anything for true by virtue of a
proof a priori'' This observation is just, and will
satisfactorily account for the usual mode of attack
made by the impugners of Christianity, who ferret
out every objection by piecemeal, and carefully
avoid looking at the compact system of the whole,
or hstening to any defence which is made of it as
a whole, or attempting, a priori, to demonstrate
the impossibihty of the Eevelation. Let those be
ware who have to deal with insinuations of this
nature ; and if they are beset by such puny assail-
N 2

180 MEMOIR.
ants, let them return the smaU shot of particular
difficulties, and ask them to account for the behef
of a most barbarous people (as these gentlemen
usuaUy represent the Jews to be) in one God,
whilst the mass of their neighbours were plunged
in idolatry, or the sage few in Pantheism ; their
preservation of pure forms of prayer and adora
tion as exemphfied in the Psalms, written chiefly by
one who is represented as the vilest of the human
race ; the coincidence of the fifty-third chapter
of Isaiah Avith the life and death of Christ ; the
acknowledged beauty of Christ's moral doctrine. He
being born of low parentage amongst this debased
and ignorant people ; the conviction wrought by
His propounding the most exalted purity to this
brutal and ridiculous race — for such, indeed, Mr.
Collins considers the Jews, and even pities Jose
phus for being the historian of those to whom so
great a philosopher, as he himself would term
Jesus Christ, first thought of preaching. When
these difficulties have been digested, others might
be propounded, if such be the petty mode of warfare
which is preferred.'
'¦February 5. — In the evening went to Cole
ridge's. He discoursed somewhat mystically on
some points of Christian philosophy. Speaking of
the TTveviJia ^coottolovv, for instance, of St. Paul, he
conceives it to be a something not requiring the
understanding as a condition of life, but as being

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 181
in itself a source of life ; but how shall we com
prehend that Avhich he admits we cannot in the
very terms of his proposition ? . . . We discussed
the King's speech, Avhich Avas dehvered to-day at
the opemng of the Parliament, and agreed as to
the gross absurdity of the insertion of the bishops
and clergy as detached from the Church, in the
recommendation for Catholic emancipation. The
event, however, forms an epoch in our history.'
' February 6. — Eead a great deal of Warbur
ton's " Divine Legation." His bold system of asser
tion is quite appaUing, and one conceives it to be
sometimes impossible that he should be the dupe
of his own spirit of paradox. His character of
Bayle ^ is finely drawn, though it is not a httle
amusing that he should lament the paradoxical
habits of that acute phUosopher. What can ex
ceed the absurd assumptions introduced to prove
that the fifth book of the " ^Eneid " is a descrip
tion of the mysteries — a position so ably and
humorously exposed by Gibbon ? '
' February 8. — Ulphinston dined with us, and
gave us some curious details of the Eussian man
ners, especially the extent of the slave system, a
large proportion of the shops, even at Petersburg,
being kept by the slaves of the aristocracy. That
vast empire appears as yet to have reached only
the first stage of civilised government. How far
1 Book I., section 3. — Ed.

182 MEMOIR.
the communication with more advanced States,
which circumstances have extended to a degree
unknown in the history of the other governments
of Europe, may have an effect in modifying the
usual progress from aristocratic monarchy to a
temporary despotism, and thence to real liberty,
remains yet to be seen.'
' February 9. — Law in the morning. In the
evening a consultation with an old practitioner, in
order to settle the draft of. a lease of a salt mine.
Heaven defend me from such twaddhng in future
as I was doomed to experience.'
' February 10. — Two hours more this morning
with my venerable opponent. Drinkwater came
in to inform me of the concoction of an Anti-
Cathohc petition at Cambridge, and we agreed to
go down, with as many others as would join us, to
oppose it.'
' February 11. — Went to Cambridge. We left,
seventeen of us, at a quarter-past six in the morn
ing, by two Paddington coaches, drawn by four
horses each, nine having left on the preceding
evening. We arrived at Cambridge at five minutes
past one o'clock, and, at a Uttle after two, had the
satisfaction of hearing that the Anti-Cathohcs were
defeated in the Upper House by fifty-two to forty-
three, seven of our party only being members of
that House. This we looked upon as a great
triumph, especially as several clergymen had come

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 183
up to A'Ote agjxinst emancipation. Thc master and
vice-master, together Avitli one chapel reader,
were the only persons at Trinity Avho voted for the
petition, and amongst these Avei'e all our most
celebrated men. We dined in Hall, and, leaving at
tAventy minutes to five, reached toAvn at half-past
eleven, much delighted Avith the triumph of
Liberal feehng in our university. In the Lower
House Ave should have been two to one. It ap
pears strange that the impure mixture of religion
ATitli pohtics should have created so much con
fusion that tAventy or thirty years must elapse ere
the errors of our government in Ireland should be
generaUy admitted after having been forcibly
pointed out. Yet it requfred nearly the same
time to effect the abohtion of the slave trade, and
our wonder ceases. . . . How vain is it that Christ
so repeatedly stated that His kingdom was not of
this Avorld, else should His servants fight ! But the
still, calm voice of reason avUI ever at last be heard,
and the Avritings of wise and good men strike root
into the dense heap of prejudice till they gently
heave it from its foundation, and Ave may trust in
God that no effort towards His glory is finally
thrown away.
^February 13. — Eead a good review on Ben-
tham's " Eationale of Evidence" inthe " Edinburgh,"
by Macaulay : the first part rather pedantic and
puerile, but the latter worked in a very masterly

184 MEMOIR.
manner. Bentham's mind affords an instance of
the effect of the u.tihtarian phUosophy in gene
rating universal suspicion — the exact reverse ofthe
Gospel, which leads to universal love ; and assur
edly legislation and religion act upon directly
opposite views, and stimulate us by opposite
motives. The legislator considers human nature
in aU its depravity, and restrains it by punishment.
The- teacher of rehgion seizes all that is pure and
noble, and bends it to his use, making man happy
and virtuous by telling him that he may be, and
naturally wishes to be, so.'
' February 17. — Eeading "Preston on Fines :"
heavy work ; but I fear that the learning on these
subjects, as it is facetiously caUed, wiU be requisite
throughout our generation, should the things
themselves be abohshed, as it is to be hoped they
may. I really know few branches of knowledge
more capable of the good of innovation Avithout
the evU than the civil law. In morals and in
rehgion the good and bad are so entwined by the
tendrils spreading and uniting, though from widely
distant roots, that you can scarcely extirpate the
one without injuring the other ; but what shock
could the human mind sustain if fines, recoveries,
&c., were cut up, both root and branch ? As for
titles being shaken, you can always protect the past
whilst you legislate for the future.'
' February 18. — Called on Buckle, who lent me

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 185
a volume taken from the " Asiatic Transactions," and
containing papers by Sir W. Jones on the Hindu
Eeligion and Philosophy. How extraordinary
must the enthusiasm of that great man have been
Avhich could lead him to devote his brilliant talents
to the heavy labour of discovering the particles of
meaning which he hid under the rubbish of Indian
poetry ! His translation from the " Bhagavad Gita "
shows the lamentable mass of folly which must be
waded through to arrive at any meaning ; for alle
gorical enigmas are but foUy to succeeding gene
rations who have forgotten their meaning, and
surely no eloquence can be attributed to the
fictitious tales of the support of the world on a
rhinoceros horn, &c., &c. The first purana of
the " Bhagavata," of which there are eighteen in the
whole, consists, says Sir W. J., of 14,000 stanzas
(Hindu chronology). In the tract where this
occurs, by-the-bye, I think that the Hindu chrono-
logers fairly overturn their own theory by proving
too much, and at once defeat the conclusion on
Avhich Voltaire so everlastingly dwells. If Voltaire
can really beUeve that the Hindus are justified by
tradition in recording facts which took place in the
reign of Vaivasarata (whose great-great-grandfather
was Brahma), only 3,892,888 years from the date of
Sir W. J.'s essay (1788), we can only say that he
seems indeed to be one who could strain out a gnat
and swallow a camel ; and he might perhaps have

186 MEMOIR.
been dehghted with the conversation between Valani
and Vyasa, who, as a learned Brahman assured Sir
W. J., did meet and talk together, though their
ages differed by 864,000 years, the Brahman observ
ing that the lives of the ^ were preterna-
turely protracted. It is, indeed, much to be wished
that the pioneers of hterature would open the
Eastern field to Europe. The skiU of such a chief
as Sir W. Jones is lamentably wasted in the attack,
which I do not mention as in the least depreciating
the results of his wonderful industry, but as
regretting that his no less wonderful intellect was
not whoUy occupied upon matter ready prepared
for its exertions.'
' February 19. — Eead the earher numbers of
Cousin's lectures on the Mission, as he terms it, of
the eighteenth century in completing the overthrow
of the middle age system ; a work which was begun
by the rehgious reformation of the sixteenth cen
tury and the poUtical revolution in England in the
seventeenth, tiU completed by the French Eevolu
tion. The Platonic school of the sixteenth century
attacked Aristotle as the means of getting at the
principle of authority ; and all synthesis of the past
ages was overthrown by Bacon and Descartes in
the seventeenth century, who recommended the
commencement of a pure analysis. The latter,
however, too hastily began a fresh synthesis, and
1 The word here lacking is illegible. — Ed.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 187
the eighteenth century turned back to rencAv its
analysis, and is distinguished in the author's opinion
by the fact of its not having produced a single
theory. ' There is great poAver in M. Cousin's style, but
too much, I think, of a spirit of system ; and the
manner in Avhich he frequently asserts that such
and such events could not have happened otherwise
than they did, is almost ludicrous. Yet it is by a
similar mode of argument that the fatahst proceeds,
who would be as much puzzled as M. Cousin if
caUed upon for a prophecy of future events from
present data. Cousin treats Bacon very unfairly,
whom he accuses of having devoted his whole
power and attention to physics. Had he never read
the " Essays," or seen the sketches for " Histories
of the Passions," &c., or the analysis of mind in the
" De Augmentis " ? The " Novum Organum " is
known to be an unfinished work ; yet is hot the first
half of it dedicated to the most valuable observations
upon mind, which would in aU probability have been
foUowed up by an experimental treatise similar to
the hints for physical observations in the second
part?' ' March 3. — . . . During this week I have
finished the second volume of Warburton's " Divine
Legation." I do not by any means feel convinced
that he has answered the texts brought against
him, as to the promulgation of the doctrine of a

188 MEMOIR.
future state, much less that there are not other
passages to be found. He must have found some
difficulty in Dr. Balguy's objection, referred to in
one of Warburton's letters to Hurd, as to the true
God having ordered so important a fact to be
concealed. ' There is considerable force, in my opinion, in
Warburton's arguments as to types, and their double
sense. His definition is ingenious ; an allegory
in moral doctrine assumes the form of a double
sense when it is important that both the present and
a future generation should be benefited, the moral
import to the present generation affording one sense,
and the evidence of Divine power, when the second
sense is verified, establishing conviction with pos
terity. Thus sacrifices, for instance, were types ;
whUst many of the actions of the prophets, as
Ezekiel's shaving and dividing his hair, &c., are
only symbols. Such is his course of argument ; and
when you add that he confines the same to a strictly
double and not a manifold sense, it is at least a
logical argument free from the contradiction in
which the writer of this bold assumption is fre
quently involved, but still subject to considerable
difficulty. The appendix to Volume II. is a master
piece of wit, though not exactly in the style of a
Christian clergyman. The unfortunate TiUard was
scarcely a worthy adversary for the gigantic powers
of Warburton. The latter's account of Job affords

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 189
some amusing instances of his broad assumptions,
and at the same time of his acute ingenuity,'
' March 4. — Eead part of a lecture of Guizot's
on the " History of Civilisation," Avhicli he divides
into social and individual. He conceives that
England excels in the first only ; Germany in the
second ; France, of course, unites the two ; and to
France, therefore, he devotes his attention. His
remarks on English authors are somewhat super
ficial. He condemns Bacon, for instance, as being
too practical, and not devoting any part of his
phUosophy to abstract questions, or the human
mind. M. Guizot himself deals much in vague
generalities, Avhicli he seemingly conceives to be
the beau ideal of philosophy.
' Eead to the end of Book V. of Caesar's " Com
mentaries," in the middle of which book I had
deserted him some little time since.'
''March 5. — Went to Coleridge's in the evening
with Montagu and young Edgeworth, a brother of
Miss Edgeworth, who appears to be a young man
of some talent.^ Coleridge wandered into meta
physical depths and mazes, talldng of the charac
teristic of reason or the pure idea being the
impossibihty of defining it ; its definition involving
contradictions, &c. &c. If he means simply to say
that that which understands cannot itself as a
whole be understood, I can agree with him ; other-
' See Mozley's Reminiscences, vol. i. page 40.

190 MEMOIR.
wise I should feel some difficulty, when no propo
sition is offered, to assent. His illustrations were
occasionally very beautiful. I like also his idea
of truth, of its being an eternity, as it were, in itself,
which we cannot feel ere we arrive at perfect
conviction. . . .
' This night in the House of Commons. Mr,
Peel, in a speech of four hours, introduced the
important measure of concession to the Eoman
Cathohcs. All disabihties (except in connexion
Avith the Universities) are to be removed, so as to
admit them to every office but those of Lord
ChanceUor of England, or Lord ChanceUor or
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. The two former
exceptions are owing to the difficulty about Church
patronage. A biU to raise the electing quahfi-
cation from 40s. to 10^. is, however, to accompany
the measure, and AviU, I fear, render it unpalatable,
although I have no great opinion of the present
system of voting [i.e. not by ballot) of a body of
men who are at the beck either of the landlord or
of the priest.'
' March 6. — In Court a great part of the morn
ing. In the evening read a great part of the sixth
book of Ctesar. His account of the Gauls and
Germans is very interesting. The seeds of feudal
ism were, I think, even then thickly sown ; the
Gauls, hpwever, being much further advanced in
the career of civilisation than the Germans, who

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 191
were as yet mere nomads. It is curious to observe
that the Gauls admitted their inferiority in military
effort to their neighbours, and they appear to have
been in that state Avhen men are not sufficiently
advanced to acquire the cool courage and confidence
inspired by superior knowledge, but yet so far
acquainted with luxury as to be unwUhng to
sacrifice their ease to military glory. The account
of the beasts in the Hercynian forest is singular.
The Uri must be Bison. He speaks of Unicorni —
a mistake, I should think, for some elk, of which
single horns may have been shown to him ; and as
for the animal AAdthout joints in its legs there must
he some grand mistake. He only speaks from
report.' [The next entry in the Diary is dated July 22,
and begins as foUows : — J
' It is long since I have pursued my original
design of committing my transient thoughts to
paper. Occupation and idleness have both con
tributed to this neglect. I fear, too, that I have
not always been sufficiently at ease Avithin to
venture upon the task.'
[The last sentence no doubt refers to the hopes
and fears by which he was agitated before he
ventured to declare his long-cherished but long-
concealed attachment to her who became his Avife.
A passage AATitten in cypher follows, and Avith this
the Diary comes to an end.j

192 MEMOIR.
To the Rev. W. F. Hooh.
Education. — Professional Success.
Lincoln's Inn :
St. Shakspeare's Day, AprU 24, 1828.
... I heard last Sunday at my brother's
church an admfrable and truly hberal sermon of
the Bishop of Lincoln, on the subject of the educa
tion of the poor, in which he considered the foun
dation of the prejudice existing in some minds
against any improvement, or as they would term
it innovation, in the minds of the lower classes, and
declared his opinion to be, that where the parent
took care that religious instruction invariably
accompanied the development of the intellect, no
danger could be apprehended from any extent
of information. I have rambled on upon this
subject, and perhaps said more than we can agree
upon ; but our controversy has always been gentle,
as wUl, I trust, ever be the case, from the harmony
that reigns in all our deeper sentiments. The
adoration of the same God, when sincere, must, I
think, unite all hearts in one common sympathy.
It is thus that Christ's doctrinal and practical
precepts are indissolubly knitted together ; and may
the time come, though it appears as yet but too
distant, when the faith shall never be conceived as
separable from the love inculcated by the Gospel !

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 193
I am Avriting this letter to you, my dear friend, from
chambers, and, as I knoAv Iioav much you sympa
thise Avith all my good or evU fortune, cannot
resist giAdng you some account of my proceedings
at the Bar. I have been much more successful
than I had any right to anticipate. I had already
cleared about 150^. since I Avas called, which for a
young man is very great. I am at present engaged
on two committees ; one on the Stockton and
Darhngton EaUway in the Lords, the other on the
East London Eaihvay in the Commons. We have
10 guineas every day for an attendance of about
three hours, so that you perceive I am in a fair
way of becoming, what I may comparatively term,
rich. One thing I do hope that I have secured,
and that is an independence ; for should I faU off in
my profession for a year or two, yet my fellowship
wiU never exceed 2001. a year. I write this on St.
Shakspeare's day, as a day of good omen, but
cannot, I fear, send it in time for the post. I am
rather disturbed and agitated at present by the
circumstance of the young lady of whom I have
spoken to you being in town, where I hope she
AviU only remain a fortnight. I perhaps he to you,
and, if so, surely to myself, in saying hope; but my
reason, if not my will, .tells me it is the right term ;
for where I have no right to declare that which I
feel, it is not only better, but more desirable, to
avoid all risk of doing so. It is, however, in vain
Vol. L 0

194 MEMOIR.
that I reflect on God's numerous blessings ; I am
still wretch enough to murmur internaUy at an
evil infinitely less than those to which thousands of
my feUow creatures are subject and from which I
am exempt, but I trust that He will pardon rather
than punish this weakness.
To the same.
Hartley's Philosophy,
Lincoln's Inn : November 26, 1828.
. . . Almost the only book which I have
wandered to, out of the profession, has been
' Hartley on Man.' What a pity that so excellent
and amiable an author — one, too, whose reasoning
is just beyond refutation, and whose acuteness in
tracing the minute shades of thought and feeling
is unrivalled — should, by the assumption of hypothe
tical physical data, be led to conclusions which
certainly embarrass, if they do not shake, the under
standing ; and although to him they were not as
a stumbling block, for his faith really appears to
have been steadfast, as if founded on a rock, yet to
others, of whom there are a sufficient number
always at hand, they afford an opportunity of
unsettling all moral and religious notions by the
annihilating of responsibihty ! One useful lesson
may, hoAvever, be deduced from the work, namely,
that Ave ought 'to judge of the motives and feehngs

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 195
of the author by his whole work. We have no
right, and it is most uncharitable, to select any
particular passages and assert that they lead to
such and such conclusions, for the purpose of con
demning an author Avho expressly rejects such con
clusions, and denies that in his mind they can arise
from the premisses. Surely his own practice will
not be governed by deductions, which others make,
and he himself repudiates ; and of what but his
actions have we a right to judge ? What I have
said, however, by no means contravenes the indis
putable right of exhibiting very glaring absurdities
by way of necessary inference from principles
advocated by others, as long as we content our
selves with thus exposing the unsoundness and
danger of the work, without casting the least
reflection on the intention of the author, Avho either
candidly OAvns that he overlooked, or sincerely
declares that his mind cannot adopt, the reasoning
by which you have endeavoured to refute him.
When, again, men are found acting upon their
principles in such a manner as to present them to
the absurdest deductions in their actual practice,
it is very difficult to separate the doctrine from
its promulgator, and the ridicule or aversion
bestowed on the one must necessarily be reflected
on the other. We must, then, learn to pity that
evil which proceeds from the degeneracy of good
feeling, and endeavour in charity td reform pure
o 2

196 MEMOIR.
depravity. I must confess that the most mischiev
ous sect I am acquainted with is that of the
utihtarian philosophy. I would that I had time to
sift their sophistry to the bottom, not with any
vain hope of being able to produce any effect on
others, but with the assurance of at least readily
defending my own opinions against these varying
and shifting supporters of the coldest and most
heart-desolating system ever inflicted upon man
kind. Yet do I know several who in sincerity
adopt it, and I fear render themselves very unhappy
by its adoption, whom, however, I cannot and ought
not to condemn, whilst I fervently hope that they
may hve to change their opinions. The worst of
the evil is that, by annihilating the generous senti
ments of youth, the theory leaves but httle hope
of a return to such feelings in our age. Paley has,
I fear, contributed much to the spreading of the
nearly allied system of universal philanthropy.
The resting of our happiness in religion only
appears to me to be manifested very briefly, thus :
Admitting that by the instruction of parents and
actual experiment we are led to reject that which
is pernicious to the body, and are so far temperate ;
and that which pains the mind, and are so far
sufficiently humane and benevolent to get rid of all
disagreeable objects of misery and suffering (which
is by no means the case) ; admitting also that we
should by reflection alone acquire sufficient energy

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 197
to repress our sensual passions, and that we should
be led by compassion rather to reheve than to
thrust out from our thoughts the distresses of
others ; yet, after all, is there more provided for
than that Avhich is simply Avithin our own power ?
What are we to do in order to remove all those
pains which, both in body and mind, unavoidably
beset us in this world ? and if a future world be
admitted, a position not inconsistent even with
atheism as Hartley has shoAvn — for Ave might exist
eternally in that hypothesis (if we ever exist at all
by it) — if, I say, a future world be admitted, what
can we desire from experience to assist us in secur
ing happiness there ? Must not revelation lend its
aid both to console us urfder what we may com
paratively term undeserved suffering here, and to
give us the full assurance of happiness hereafter as
a consequence of a certain line of 'conduct to be
adopted upon earth ? . , .
To the same.
Labours of the Legal Profession,
Lincoln's Inn : January 2, 1829.
... I have been much engaged during the
last month in a very laborious and one of the least
profitable of the departments of the law. I believe
I mentioned to you that a cousin of mine had
offered to send me the whole of the conveyancing for
which he should require the advice of counsel (he

198 MEMOIR.
is an attorney in Devonshire). As I have given
myself out as a conveyancer and equity draftsman,
the common plan of beginners at the Chancery Bar,
and my time is not fully occupied, I have under
taken this business, which is one of the most useful
in conferring a competent knowledge of the law,
and possesses at the same time the advantage of
securing me about 300Z. a year independently of
other clients. It is, however, not only laborious
when you have no pupils to assist you in the
drudgery, but always makes me rather nervous in
consequence of the importance of accuracy in
opinions as to title, and in the forms of deeds, &c.
From the rapid interchange of property in these
days, the conveyancer 'can no longer flatter him
self with the hope of his mistakes remaining undis
covered till he is peaceably deposited in his grave.
At every fresh mortgage your handiwork is sub
mitted to the searching .eyes of some indiAddual
who considers the detection of an error as the
establishing of his own reputation for sagacity. . . .
The conclusion of your letter struck me with
agreeable wonderment. Can any good thing come
out of Cambridge? I have not met with Mr.
Eose's ^ work, for in fact I have not read much of
anything but law during the last month, but I will
endeavour to procure it. Talldng of Cambridge, I
have just received my dividend thence, which had
a narrow escape, having Avith the others been in

DL'\.RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 199
Eemington's bank a fortnight before EoAvland
Stephenson's departure. It strikes me, my dear
friend, and I am sure you Avill accei)t my offer in
kindness as it is meant, that you may, in entering
upon j'our ncAV hA-iiig,^ be desirous of having some
ready money in hand ; and here are 200^., which I
shall not at all Avant, at your disposal for as long a
time as you please. You avUI not, therefore, be
unkind enough to refuse me this pleasure if it be
reaUy of any service to you, or scruple to say if
more Avere wished, either noAv, or at any other time ;
for I shaU always, be assured, open all my circum
stances to you as I Avould to a brother. I have
now spent the first year of my life in which I have
not considered myself as encroaching on my own
family, and, Avith God's blessing, hope to possess
health and good fortune enough to continue inde
pendent, and I trust I shall never wish to heap up
riches. To the same.
Eeligious Eeflections.
Lincoln's Inn : February 19, 1829.
Your last long and kind letter interested me
most deeply ; and though I regretted the depressed
tone which characterised it as written in a moment
of depression, I felt much satisfaction in once more
experiencing the glow which seems to animate my
whole frame, Avhen the tender and grateful recoUec-
^ Holy Trinity, Coventry.

200 MEMom.
tions of the happy days of our boyhood are
brought vividly before my imagination. It is
indeed melancholy for us to reflect upon past
pleasures which can never be renewed in the same
shape ; but then it is a melancholy which is in itself
soothing, such as, I thank God, I cannot determine
from experience, but such as I can suppose to be
the recollection of a friend lost to us upon earth,
when we shall recall every kind thought and act,
and look forward with a Christian's confidence to a
happy reunion. We cannot expect that the buoy
ancy of spirit with which Ave enjoyed the passing
hour without dreaming of the future, should attend
us throughout our career on earth, for the ex
perience of increased disappointments, as we
advance in life, renders such blindness impossible ;
but may it not be the benevolent intention of our
Creator to warn us, as soon as our maturer reason
is capable of reflection, that we are not to fix our
affections or repose our trust upon any perishable
creature ? True it is that He has hallowed human
attachments by informing us that they would vainly
pretend to love the Invisible Author of our being,
who have never cherished affectionate feeling
towards their brethren, and it is by the genuine
kindness of the heart that a peasant can evince a
more perfect comprehension of the Gospel spirit
than a philosopher ; yet Ave are forbidden to set
our affections on things beneath in an exclusive

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 201
sense, and are told that Avhere our treasure is, there
Avill our hearts be also. We kuoAV where that
treasure ought to be ; Avould God that Ave could
always be mindful of the knowledge vouchsafed to
us ! I did most earnestly, my dear friend, pray for
God's assistance upon your efforts in your ncAV
sphere of duty ; to Avish to be good and pious is
greatly to advance to the attainment of our object.
'Ask, and it shall be given unto you,' is the promise
of Him who cannot deceive. I am, indeed, aAvare,
from sad consciousness of my own unworthiness,
that to ask in the sense which alone can be attri
buted to that promise is at times most difficult, and
that God will not listen to the murmuring of our
lips if our heart be far from Him. He trietli our
innermost thoughts, and to Him is laid bare the
foulness which we dare not ourselves look ujson.
Do not, my dear friend, do not, I beseech you,
refer to me as to one who is fitter than yourself to
offer up prayers to Him who is of purer eyes than
to behold iniquity ; such praise wounds where you
intend to gratify. I am as miserably weak as any
poor being can be ; all that I dare to say is that I
have not yet felt myself so abandoned by God's
good Spirit as to be able to stifle the deep remorse
which I feel for frequent offences ; may I never
become desperately wicked ! I know my own
weakness too weU to suppose this to be impossible,
but yet feel such confidence in God's mercy as not

202 MEMOIR.
to deem it probable. Above all things, how fully
do I agree with you as to the efficacy of prayer in
supporting us under all the temptations which here
surround us ! How mistaken does the Deistical
opinion as to the propriety of offering thanks only
to one God appear, even if we reason from common
experience alone ! Must we not wish for that
which we ask in our prayers, and will not the
fervour of the latter react upon the wish which
excites it ? Again, the frequent contemplation of
blessings enjoyed which would form the subject of
thanksgiving would, by perpetuaUy reminding us
of the advantages we possess, generate a secret
feehng of self-complacency and pride, whilst in
our prayers we acknowledge our feebleness, depen
dence, and humiliation. The Pharisee used thanks
giving only ; the pubhcan ejaculated his short but
fervent prayer, and went down to his house justified
rather than his haughty fellow-worshipper. We,
however, rest not upon this reasoning. In the very
parable I have aUuded to, but more dfrectly in
many other parts of our blessed Lord's instructions,
we are commanded to pray ; and what is there
which should lead us to conclude that prayer is
not a mode appointed by the Euler of the Universe
for obtaining His good and greatest gifts, in the
same manner as bodily exertion is requisite for
acquiring a supply of temporal advantages ?
Our Saviour Himself appears to condescend to

DLA.RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 203
reason thus Avith His disciples when He asks them
Avhy it should be more improbable that God should
give to them avIio seek Him, than that man should
render to his felloAVS the services they request of
him. We have as much right to expect our
neighbours to give us supphes of food, raiment, &c.,
unasked for, as that spiritual grace should be
granted to those Avho adopt not the required
means ; for it Avould not be a sufficient answer to
say that God knows all our wants, which man
cannot, since it leaves this difficulty : Why were
not men so created as to know each other's wants
and to feel the disposition to relieve them.P — a
question which we have no right to ask ; it is
enough that experience shows us such is not the
case ; and it is a fine analogy from that experience
to say that the same reason which prevented such
a formation of men's minds produced the necessity
of prayer ; that reason cannot, in our present state,
be offered to our minds under any more immediate
form than as being God's will, which should satisfy
vain curiosity. I am much obhged to you for
your recommendation of Whately's book, which I
shaU procure, for the whole subject of the essays
interests me. I have been lately reading War
burton's ' Divine Legation,' one of the most illogical
books I ever met with, but the learning and talent
it displays make amends for many defects ; I do
beheve that the author was a sincere Christian,

204 MEMOIR.
and I think his book too much out of the common
way to do much mischief. The dedication of the
first volume to the freethinkers is well worth your
reading. It is a short and masterly exposure of
the nonsensical expression of ridicule being the
test of truth. I am about to read Hooker's
' Ecclesiastical Polity ' regularly through, which
will, I fear, take me some time. What do you
think of my being one of the party of twenty-six
who went to Cambridge to oppose the Anti-Cathohc
petition ? I really considered that it would be a
disgrace to the University, and for that reason felt
it my duty to go down. I know you wiU not
quite agree in this ; but only two out of about forty
of our college, who voted, supported the petition,
and, with the exception of Dr. Wood, scarcely a
man of known talent. To the same.
Matrimonial Congratulations and Prospects,
Great George Street: March 20, 1829.
I did not receive your letter to-day till I
returned home, too late for the post. I am un
willing to let another depart without offering,
though in few words, my heartfelt congratulations
to you on your success in the most important of
all earthly pursuits, and I pray that that success
may ever be a source of recoUections as pleasur-

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 205
able as the feehngs Avhich it must at this moment
excite in you. I do not doubt that the object of
your choice must be virtuous and amiable, and am
wilUng to admit of her returning your affection as
a proof of her talent and discernment ; but the less
I Avrite the better. What can the cold effusions of a
pen which has been dipped in legal ink the livelong
day, Avhat can they contribute to the rapture of a
successful loA-er ? I thank you heartily for the last
paragraph of your kind letter (and how kind, I
felt most warmly, Avas it in you to write to me at
aU !) I will not be jealous, and shall hope that, as
you have promised me, I shall acquire a new friend
instead of losing one. It has ever been my earnest
Avish to see you happUy settled in life. I know
that on aU accounts you must have most anxiously
desired it. Thank you for your affectionate wishes
on my behalf. I am fortunately at this moment
much occupied, and it is only from such occupa
tion that I can form any hope ; nor have I any
justification for those wilful and almost impious
murmurings, which sometimes exist in thought,
though they never, I trust, escape my lips. How
many are there who, with far greater powers of
mind and energy of spirit, are left to struggle in
the profession which I have embraced, whilst, by
the circumstances in which I am at present placed,
I have been enabled to advance more rapidly !
StUl I feel that I am dependent upon the interest

206 MEMOIR.
which can be made for me. I have not lost, but I
have not yet made any way myself, and, until I feel
more confidence in that respect, must not mislead
another by false suppositions of future advantages
that may never be realised. But how much have
I written already of myself in a letter which must
be short, and which should only be dedicated to
the expression of my delight at the happiness of
my dearest friend ! There is no one thing, my dear
Hook, which has made me more earnestly long for
a partner of all my thoughts who should be con
stantly with me, than the consciousness that had I
not possessed, in such a friend as you have been,
the means of giving vent to the feehngs of my
heart, I should have either sunk under their
vehemence, or, by the constraint I experienced,
should have degenerated into a cold and selfish, or
irritable and dissatisfied being, miserable and the
cause of misery to those around me. As it is, I
but too often lament the want of one who can
rejoice and weep with me, and am sure that our
hearts have so many points of resemblance that
you must have experienced this aching void.
Gladly do I anticipate that you will never again be
subject to that misery.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 207
To the same.
Matrimonial Prospects. Tenby : September 3, 1820.
... I can scarcely look forAvard to the future
Avithout some superstitious dread ; yet do I feel
blessed with the assurance that no evil of this
Avorld can deprive me of the rapturous thought
that I have been loved by one so good, so purely
virtuous ; this Avill be my consolation in the utter
most misery that I may be doomed to suffer here,
and still more do I fervently pray that I may
deserve such attachment, that I may never for an
instant forget the aAvful trust reposed in me by
one so much better than myself, but strive daily
to cherish in her the piety and goodness Avhich
must lead her to an eternal union with the only
God, for so shall I fit myself for the right per
formance of my own reUgious duties.
To the same.
Preparation for Marriage.
Lincoln's Inn : November 25, 1829.
I am much obliged to you for your merciful
treatment of me, though, indeed, you only let me
off on the plea of insanity. ... In the first place,
I have had rather more business than usual in
Chancery matters, and some of them perplexing

208 MEMOIR.
enough. Then I have had a house to furnish —
many weeks having passed, indeed, in preliminaries
— and I have only now just obtained possession.
Then I appear to-day as an author, having pub
lished a pamphlet (with my name) in the shape of
a letter to the commissioners on ' Eeal Property,'
in favour of a General Eegister. It would to you,
I fear, be almost unintelligible, such is the state of
our law ; but I wiU, if you hke, reserve a copy for
you. This letter was begun and printed by the
advice of my quondam master, TyrreU, who is one
of the commissioners ; but that is not to be spoken
of, it being, in fact, a defence of the very and only
reasonable course which they have adopted against
the attacks of one of the old school. You thus
see that I have had enough work upon my hands.
Then you will remember that I have now another
correspondent — a rival with you in my affection.
You will be very glad, my dear Hook, to hear
that our marriage is now fixed for the first week
in January. I shall leave town about a fortnight
before that, and so take only a fortnight's holiday
afterwards. This, you see, renders any scheme of
reaching you impracticable. I think, as the shortest
road to any abiding place, we shall go to Southend,
which will render it unnecessary to pass through
town, and will also be near London if I should be
obhged to return earlier than I anticipate. By
being so near we may manage to steal a little

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 209
more time, if my clerks do not send me Avord of
there being any ])apers in chambers. I shall only
be able to get the dining and bed-rooms finished
before our return, but our draAving-room and the
whole house Avill, 1 hope, be ready before the
spring. In the midst of all this sort of bustle I
cannot collect my thoughts sufficiently to write
to you as I Avould write ; to express all my deep
thankfulness for the past, and confidence for the
future. Everything, indeed, now smiles upon us ;
I hope Ave may be strengthened to bear any re
verse. You, too, my dearest friend, enter, not
unfrequentiy, into my thoughts, Avhen I reflect on
the immense addition to my own happiness which
has been vouchsafed me in that of all who are
near and dear to me. ... I do, as you may
suppose, most ardently long for that rest and
tranquilhty which after all this bustle, Avhich I
much dislike, I shall hail with rapture. If dear
Charlotte were with me, I should not so much
care about these minutife, because I could then
take a greater interest in them ; but really chairs,
tables, &c., and the choice that one has to make
in matters most absolutely indifferent, give one
greater trouble than I could have supposed possi
ble. My dear mother is so dehghted with our hav
ing fixed upon a residence near her, that I cannot
but rejoice in our having obtained so comfortable a
house in that neighbourhood. The dulness of the
Vol. I. P

tD

210 MEMOIR.
spot ^ is to us rather a recommendation than other
Avise, and it is very open and airy, though I cannot
agree Avith my landlord in considering that a pear-
tree in a dirty yard behind us affords, when in
blossom, the ' most beautiful prospect in the
world.' I should think the Bay of Naples superior
to it, but ought not perhaps to judge till I have
seen the effect. To Mrs. Charles Stephens.
Birthday Greetings. — Consciousness of Sin. — The
Merits and Defects of the Evangelicals.
Lincoln's Inn : November 29, 1833.
Many thanks, my dearest sister, for your kind
heartfelt wishes and congratulations which, be
assured, dearest Charlotte and myself do, with no
less affection and earnestness, now offer to yourself.^
Indeed it is most gratifying to me to receive such
kind and affectionate letters as reached me from
yourself and my dear mother and Maria this morning.
The love, I hope, -I may continue ever to deserve,
as 'far as a return of attachment constitutes my
title to it. The many other kind things that you
say are very dear to me as being strong proofs of
regard, the stronger as proofs for being un
merited ; for surely it is only the eye of affection
' Dean's Yard, Westminster.
' My uncle's birthday was November 29, and my mother's
November 30.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 211
that overlooks the numerous defects which a less
partial observer must be fully aware of, although
my bitterest enemy could not say half as much evil
of me as I myself, alas ! am conscious of.
I find it most true, dearest sister, that the more
our eyes are opened to things spiritual, the more
do we perceive the inconceivable foulness and de
formity of the human heart. And not only this ;
for we could soon, in our self-deceit, flatter our
selves then Avith the delusion that we are no worse
than others, Avhereas we are then only conscious
of our spiritual state Avhen we see that we really
are individuaUy most guilty — that we are conscious
of sins which we cannot know that others have
committed — sins against light and knowledge not
perhaps vouchsafed to others — sins of ingratitude
where unusual blessings have been bestowed.
One comfort, and a great one it is, of our in
creased knowledge of our sinfulness is the in
creased rehance on a Eedeemer — the increased
love of One who could suffer such horrible torture
as the very descent into a world like this must
have been to an All Holy Being, solely out of love
and compassion to His bitterest enemies, for such
are all sinners.
To give all men their due, I think that until the
EvangeUcal Clergy, as they are called, preached the
peculiar doctrines of Christianity, we were fast
P 2

212 MEMOIR.
sinking into mere heathen morality. It was
seldom recognised that ' there was none good, no,
not one; ' that ' the heart was desperately wicked ; '
that, when all was done, we were ' unprofitable
servants ; ' that ' except we eat the flesh of the Son
of Man and drink His blood, Ave have no hfe in us ' —
a doctrine which turned back many of His disciples
(St. John vi. 66). Now all this is vitally impor
tant. On the other hand, none can dislike more than
I do the principle of separation (the very meaning of
the word Pharisee) introduced by that party as a
party. Their existence as a party is itself most
dangerous, as opposed to the very spirit of Chris
tianity, and generating the ' stand back, I am holier
than thou,' of the Pharisee. I also much dishke
their insisting on the observance of particular
forms — as abstinence from playing at cards, and
going to balls, &c. (theatres, as at present consti
tuted here, are more questionable) : this is like the
' paying tithe of cummin,' &c., and is essentially
Judaising. Make the root good, make a man a
firm behever in Christ, and we are told he will
love Him and His commandments, and there will
be no danger of his pursuing any amusement beyond
the legitimate object of recreation. It is false in
reasoning and dangerous in practice to make
everything that may be abused unlawful; as I
have heard some people object to a cigar as im-

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 213
moral because people smoke at public-houses. At
least, no better reason could be found- than this
association.
To the Rev. W. F. Hook.^
Berkeley's Philosophy.
Lincoln's Inn : December 7, 1833.
... I am glad you are about to read Berkeley.
There Avas never, I think, any man since Plato who
Avas gifted Avith imagination and reasoning poAver
in so high a degree ; and if he, hke Plato, occa
sionally lets his imagmation run Avild, yet I question
Avhether Plato CA'er, hke Berkeley, practically acted
on the vicAvs which were deemed visionary, and thus
gave evidence of sincerity and singleness of heart.
I am always in love with Berkeley when I think
of his proffered resignation of the bishopric to
amehorate the condition of the unhappy Ber-
mudians. . . . You will feel the great value of
Berkeley as giving a sound resting-place for the
mind amid the bewUderments of metaphysics. It
is quite false to say that Hume has demonstrated
that there is no such thing as spfrit ; on the same
principle Berkeley had shown that there was no
such thing as matter. In the first place, Berkeley
makes no such assertion, but simply that matter,
' This letter and the next have already appeared in the Life of
Br. Hook, pp. 170, 172, smaU edition.

214 ftlEMOIR.
considered independently of mind, is a nonentity.
That all those sensations we daily experience from
objects termed external are real, Berkeley, who
is eminently an experimental or Baconian philo
sopher, was never absurd enough to deny. For ' ex
ternal,' read ' independent of us, or our minds,' and
you will have Berkeley's notion of matter as regards
man ; but he boldly asserts that matter cannot be
conceived of by us as independent of a mind. The
Scotch metaphysicians, to a man, either wUfuUy or
stupidly jumble a mind with the mind, meaning
each individual's mind ; whilst by a mind Berkeley
means some mind or other ; and admitting that
the table at which I am now writing will exist
when I do not think of it, the question is. Can it
exist if there be no mind to limit out its nature,
which is but an aggregate of sensations ? Berkeley
says. No ; and experience, I think, demonstrates
that that which can only be known as an object of
sensation, owes its existence to a sentient power ;
not mine or yours, because experience shows the
sensations to exist independently of your will or
mine, but to the eternal sentient power by whose
Avill our minds perceive it as that which is created
or willed by Him. This is always to me the most
beautiful demonstration of a God, and most satis
factory refutation of the eternity of matter which
is, according to Berkeley, an absurdity, matter
being but the stage in which certain volitions of the

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 215
Supreme Mind are exhibited to man. The resur
rection of the body becomes thus at once intelli
gible, because He Avho wiUs us to perceive the
efforts of His Avill in a certain manner now, may
cause us to perceive them in a similar inanner at
any future time, blessing us probably with ad
ditional pleasure by a more thorough perception
of the beauty of His work. By ' us ' you avUI see
I consioer the mind alone, regarding the material
about us as no otlier than a combination of God's
impressed thoughts (if I may so say) which affects
our minds Avith various impressions, such as pain
and pleasure and their infinite varieties. . . .
I have not time to write to you about Miss
Martineau's tales, of which, of course, you have
heard, ard Ave have read many. Some are, I
think, excellent, and all are powerful where her
imagination comes into play. Her reasoning is
not, and iocs not pretend to be, original. It is
taken A-erbatim from Malthus and M'CuUoch — a
bad schocl — and her sectarianism not unfrequentiy
peeps out ; but I would recommend you strongly
to read tiie ' Manchester Strike,' Avhich might, I
think, be useful to your poor people at Coventry
hereafter, if the time should come when any such
foUy should be meditated.

216 MEMOIR.
To the same.
Advantages and Evils of an Established Eeligion.
Lincoln's Inn : February 1834.
... I think you have brought forward every
argument in favour of an Estabhshment with the
greatest force. You teU me you hope to convert
me, and avUI, I dare say, think me an obstinate
creature if not quite a convert. However, I will
acknowledge that you have confirmed my perhaps
hesitating opinion that where we find a Church
established we ought not to lend any assistance
towards unestablishing. I am not a lover of
change at any time for the sake of change
(though you may smile at this, lookirg to my
Eadicahsm) ; I even consider change as a positive
evil, for assuredly happiness consists in tranquillity,
and He who is all wise and aU happy is immutable ;
but there are cases, as aU must admit, vhere the
evils of abiding in your actual state and tie advan
tage to be derived from a change, fully jiistify the
effort and sacrifice required for alteration. Such,
however, is not, I think, the case with legard to
the Establishment. Amongst the evils, which I
cannot but yet think incident to the compulsory
support by the State of any religious doctrine,
there are to be found unquestionably gieat ana
perhaps counterbalancing benefits, and I would

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1817. 217
not root up the tares, lest the Avheat be rooted up
also. Of course I do not think an Establishment un
scriptural — that is, forbidden by Scripture — or I
should consider the question settled. ' Unscrip
tural ' is one of those convenient Avords for contro
versy Avhich alloAv the opponents of the Church the
AA'idest possible field by keeping off any close attack.
In one sense, unquestionably, the Establishment is
unscriptural ; that is to say, the early Christian
Church as dehneated in Scripture rested, from the
necessity of the case, upon no support from the
State, and this the Dissenter falls back upon when
pressed by argument. I think your argument as
to the Jewish Church a very good one against the
Estabhshment being unscriptural in any other
sense ; but I do not think it equally good as a
positive reason to urge us to an alhance of Church
and State, for there was a direct temporal covenant
between God and the JcAvish nation. The Govern
ment remained in some sense a theocracy, even
after St. Paul's conversion ; and Avhere God was
the temporal monarch, it was almost a necessary
consequence that His ministers would be temporal
governors also. My objections, or rather, I should
say, my difficulties, as to Establishments are several ;
first, political — the difficulty of choosing your Estab
lishment, for I inchne to think that the forcing of
six millions in Ireland to pay for the maintenance

218 MEMOIR.
of the religion of one million is almost unscriptural
in the worst sense. In Scotland we have acted
differently; Avhilst treating Ireland as a conquered
country, that is, by the rule of force. I think an
estabhshment of our Church in India, supported
by forced contributions from the natives, would be
monstrous. To this I know you will answer that the
tithes are a gift by Christian possessors. This may,
and, I think, does, apply to England ; but consider
how the possessors acquired their property in Ireland
— by nothing, in fact, but brutal violence done to
the large majority of that nation,, though a weak
minority as compared Avith the overwhelming
forces of England. My second objection to Estab
lishments is, their effect on the clergy, but I Asdll
not enter into a long disquisition on this point ;
and my third objection is, the effect on the laity,
who become members of a Church because it is
established, and make no further inquiry. I
admit, great force in the arguments you bring
forward as to the indirect effect on famihes, and I
admit also the difficulties entangling the whole
question ; but I should ever wish, above all things,
to see the questions kept separate, for there are
not many who have our liberality in thinking one
can belong to the Church of Christ without being
over anxious as to the seats of bishops in Parlia
ment, and the consequences of a union between
Church and State ; and this species of bigotry is

DIARY' AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 219
itself one of the evils of that union, for I fear many
give the State at least equal consideration.
To the same.
The Dangers of Eeligious Sentiment.
Luicoln's Inn : July 24, 1834.
My dearest Friend,-r- . . . With one part of
your last letter you may be sure I shall not agree.
The truth is, I am a sad talker of Christianity, and
I do really sometimes tremble at the thought of
the additional guilt of my numerous commissions
of sin, and omissions of duty, as compared with the
same acts and defects in others, for this very
reason. I think I have been blessed with a very
keen and liA'^ely sentiment of religion, in itself un
questionably a gift, but stUl of a very dangerous
kind, bringmg those who rest upon it into the con
demnation of ' him who knew his Lord's wiU and
did it not.' This is an awful thought to me, my
dear friend, and I am glad when I can reflect on
it, to keep doAvn a naturaUy buoyant and sanguine
temperament, as well as a very vainglorious heart.
You reaUy can have no conception of the depths
of my vanity, and the unaccountable folly with
which even your extravagant, though sincerely in
tended, praise is treasured up by me, even whilst
I feel that it is my condemnation. I endeavour to
attribute the pleasure it affords me to the sense it

220 MEMOIR.
conveys to me of your unalterable friendship, but
that wiU not altogether satisfy my conscience.
Now, you know enough of me, my good, excel
lent friend, to be aware that all this is not said to be
contradicted. Without appearing to return your
praise, be assured that I regard your friendship as
that which, next to my infant education, has been
the most powerful instrument, under the guidance
of God's good Spirit, in saving me from utter
destruction. That I have much improved in the
last few years I really hope, and this is a lasting
source of consolation to me, for improvement is the
only test of our being in a state of grace.
To the same.
Love, Earthly and Divine, — Holy Baptism,
Beahngs : September 18, 1834.
[After referring to the illness of some relative.]
. . . But as we advance in life we see every day
more and more the uncertainty of every worldly
enjoyment ; and it is a beautiful dispensation of
Providence that we should thus be gradually
brought to wean ourselves from the habit of in
dulging in an unrestrained and thoughtless, too
often, perhaps, unthankful, gratification of earthly
affection. Tempered, indeed, with a Christian's
thankfulness, affection cannot be too much indulged ;
for it is then also blessed with a Christian's hope.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 221
and we are enabled through fixitli to look forward
to a time when avc shall Avonder that Ave can have
really loved so little those Avhom Ave now appear
to dote upon. For I imagine that the love which
is perfected in heaven, centring in our blessed
Saviour, will, through Him, flow in a pure and
holy stream toAvards the utmost bounds of creation
then known to us ; and that every saint will feel
towards those Avho are glorified with him an
affection far surpassing the strongest that we can
experience here. For it will be a powerful affec
tion towards the immortal soul — one which, if
properly and perfectly experienced here, would
lead us to pray for those we love far more often
and more earnestly than Ave do, to avoid ' offend
ing ' them (I mean ' scandahsing ' ^ them in the
hteral sense), by giving occasion to any weaknesses
or infirmities, and would cause us to feel a far
bitterer pang at the manifestation of a bad temper,
or any of the other minor sins as Ave consider them,
than we should at the appearance of any bodily
distemper in those we love. These are thoughts
on which I love to dwell, with a deeply humiliating
feehng, however, of my own infirmities, and of the
depth to which I fall below my own poor standard
of holiness. What must we appear to an All Holy
God ? This, indeed, if anything, must bring us to
Him who alone can deliver us ' from the body of
' i.e. causing to stumble.

222 MEMOIR.
this death,' or ' this body of death.' And here
I am reminded of your very interesting observa
tions on infant baptism. The passage you mention
I always thought was introduced by our Church
for the very purpose of supporting the practice.
That and the parallel case of circumcision are the
tAVO strongest arguments to my mind, and removed
the doubts and difficulties I felt on the subject.
The bringing of little children to Christ, and His
blessing them, would have been a mere superstitious
practice, had it not been accompanied by a spiritual
blessing. The passage in St. Paul I have referred
to, and all those metaphors in Scripture of dead
bodies and a new birth, seem clearly to imply that
without grace we are quite dead in our souls, i.e.
have no poAver. We are driven about by our
senses, our appetites, and the other apparatus of
Satan, and cannot resist his efforts. The soul has
to be born again as a hving, active principle. This
life or birth, like our carnal life or birth, is a direct
gift of God, and, I apprehend, takes place at bap
tism. The soul thus born must, however, be kept
alive, being first nourished with child's meat by
the parent's instruction, till it can receiA^e that
spiritual food at the table of our Lord which
renews our strength. And this, I think, is what
you would rightly term ' renovation.' The meta
phor fails entirely if regeneration be perfection,
for childhood is not perfect.

DIARY AND COPvRl'.SPONDENCE 182S-1847. 223

To tlie ,'<a

me.

The Destruction of the Houses of Parliament
BY Fire.
Lincoln's Inn : October 17, 1834.
... I do not knoAV if you Avould have had
tins letter so soon (as I am very busy), Avere I not
anxious to attempt giving you a faint description
of the terribly splendid scene Ave witnessed last
night, in the destruction of the tAvo Houses of
Parliament by fire. It is one that cannot be for
gotten in a hfetime ; and as such a calamity
awaited the nation I feel that I Avould not for
much have been absent from the spot.
We Avere sitting in the dining-room when
Charlotte saw the pinnacles of the Abbey gleaming
Avith unusual light, visible over the top of the
shutter, which, as you may remember, does not
fit the circular portion of the window. On open
ing the shutter there Avas such a blaze of hght
that I thought the college was in flames. On
running to the upper rooms, however, we saw the
volumes of smoke and bursting flames toAvering
over the House of Lords, and bearing fearfully
towards the Hall. This was about seven o'clock,
and the fire had then been burning about a quarter
of an hour. I rushed out of the Yard, and there
the most awfully grand spectacle presented itself.
The hospital, St. Margaret's Church, and, above

224 MEMOIR.
all, the Abbey, were thrown out into bold relief
against a lurid sky ; whilst at times the moon
shone through the dense volumes of smoke with
a pure, tranquil light, that presented a strange
contrast with the fiery redness of the flames. The
beautiful north transept transmitted the blaze
through its windows, and the whole was so magni
ficent that I went back for Charlotte, and took
her with me to St. Margaret's Churchyard, and
thence to Westminster Bridge, before the mob had
coUected. I then called on the Eickmans to offer
any assistance, but found I was just forestalled ;
their house is at the west end of the Hall, and has
escaped. I was much pleased with seeing Mr.
E. coolly removing all public documents before
his own furniture. I then attended a committee of
our dispensary, and again went home ; but at ten
I returned to see the fire, both from Abingdon
Street and the Hall, the only communication be
tween which was through our Yard, as the police
had blocked up the street. And now a scene
presented itself which no tongue or pen can
adequately describe.
The whole of Palace Yard, so far as a circle
was not kept by the police, the whole of the wide
space near Great George Street, and the whole of
Westminster Bridge, were one dense mass of
spectators. The buildings by the side of the Hall
had taken fire. Engine after engine came thunder-

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 225
ing through the mob Avitli terrific speed, and
shouts of joy Avelcomed the arrival of each ; the
different regiments of infantry came in detachments
as rapidly as they could be formed, and, as their
drums and fifes announced their approach, the
mob asain hailed them Avith cheers, as affordino;
more men for the pumps. In the midst of the diu
was heard the trumpet of the Horse Guards as a
body of them galloped down to maintain order ;
and then again there was a dead silence, whilst
the thick, curhng, black smoke announced that
the roof of the corner buildings I have mentioned
was about to faU. Presently it fell with a hideous
crash, and ten thousands of sparkUng embers
were thrown up, foUowed by a raging flame, when
a kind of shriek arose at the imminent danger
of the HaU. Happily the wind shifted, and the
Speaker's house suffered instead of the venerable
fabric which excited such an interest as few would
have expected in a mob hke that by which I was
surrounded. On the whole, though there were
several exceptions, I was much delighted Avith
the conduct of the people, who manifested not
only the usual good intention of most Enghsh
mobs (however perverted), but a degree of senti
ment 1 did not anticipate.
I have given you a feeble transcript of my
own feehngs, and a poor account of this sad cata
strophe ; but I write in great haste.
Vol. I. Q

226 MEMOIR.

To the same.
Correspondence between Jebb and Knox. — Hannah
More's Correspondence. — The Doctrine of
Assurance.
Lincoln's Inn : December 8, 1834.
... I do not know what you will think of me
for not having yet read Bishop Jebb's Correspon
dence, which, however, I fully intend to do, and
promise myself a very great treat from it.^ I met
a young Oxonian the other day who had been
induced to read it from seeing the first letter pre
fixed to the '• Lives ' pubhshed by the bishop which I
remember you spoke to me of at the time. I
mention this to show that the work is doing good,
for it is of vital importance to young men to have
an interest excited with regard to such characters.
I know of nothing more stirring than personal
anecdote ; it brings every point so much more
home to us ; and for this reason, amongst others, I
doubt not our blessed Lord has opened to us the
wonderful mysteries of the Gospel first, as a personal
history, before the Holy Spirit had prepared men's
hearts to accept the systematic doctrine of the
Epistles. I believe that missionaries are most
successful when they begin with the Gospels alone.
Indeed, our Church seems to entertain the same
' See Life of Br. Hook, pp. 174 and 177, small edition.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 227
vicAV by the examination of the younger candidates
for the ministry in the Gospels and Acts. I think
that the personal love of our Saviour is the most
beautiful preparation for the teaching of the Spirit ;
otherwise, whUst imagining that Ave are searching
into the deep things of God, Ave are in reality but
too often indulging the fatal, unloving appetence
of knowledge that generates pride and then dis
obedience. Hannah More's Correspondence has been thrown
in my Avay by our book club, which I am half-
ashamed to confess, after my long negligence about
Jebb, but I have in a fortnight read only one
volume of the former. It is a kind of Boswell
book, and would be very amusing Ught reading, I
think, for you. It is wonderful to see the levity,
frivohty, vanity, and self-conceit of that really
excellent person in the early part of her career ;
though it would have been more wonderful,
perhaps, had a young girl who was made so much
of by bishops, chanceUors, &c., been wholly un-
injured by the incense daily offered up to her.
There is a very interesting account of Dr. Johnson's
last hours, and it is dehghtful to think that the
comfort so long withheld was at last vouchsafed to
him. The more I hear of the doctrine of assur
ance (I mean prospective assurance), the less I
think it warranted by Scripture, and the less I like
Q2

228 ' MEMOIR,
it as tried by the test of reason. I have had much
discussion lately upon it with a friend of Charlotte's,
now staying with us, who, I fear, is rendered very
unhappy by the opinion that such assurance may
be arrived at, because she, one of the most humble-
minded and dehghtful persons I ever met, cannot
herself attain it. To the same.
The Advantages of a Convocation for the Church,^
Lincoln's Inn : March S, 1835.
... I see a good deal of difficulty in your
objection to a permanent convocation. StUl, I can
not but wish that there should occasionaUy be a
national council or synod, as weU as frequent
meetings of the provincial synods. I think you
have often shown the besetting danger of Protes
tantism to be disunion. Such, I confess, appears
to me the strongest argument of the Eomish
doctors against all who differ from themselves (for
I waive the question of our being called Protes
tants). Now, assuredly, the Enghsh Church, i.e.
the Church in England, presents to my eye rather
a more patched surface than I could wish ; and
tne intermixture of coarse and rotten threads is
still more apparent when one narrowly inspects
^ For a letter partly in reply to this, see Life of Br. Hook,
p. 177, small edition.

DLVRY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 229
the whole fabric. It seems to me that much of
this is OAving to the political appointment of bishops,
but yet more, perhaps, to the Avant of a fixed rally
ing point, such as might be established by the
declaration of a decided majority in a national
council. Besides, many of the clergy reaUy err
from ignorance ; and their attention would be more
strongly directed to the doctrines of the Church if
a body existed by which it would be represented,
and in Avhich, perhaps, they might themselves be
caUed to take a deUberative part. It seems that
Peel promises something as to improved disciphne,
Avhich I am very glad to hear. I do not know that
I quite agree with you as to the non-residence of
bishops. The case of the first Apostles was one of
necessity ; but Timothy and Titus were early estab
lished by St. Paul in thefr respective dioceses, and
the custom of the Church in its purest days seems,
as far as I am informed, to have sanctioned resi
dence as desirable. The bishop ought, I think, to
be personaUy known and respected by all his
clergy, and by as many as possible of all those who
consider him as thefr spiritual chief on earth.
I am much pleased at what is caUed the re
action in the country ; for though I consider the
alarm to have been excited for interested and party
purposes and to be utterly groundless (in which,
of course, our opinions differ), yet it is satisfactory
to me to find that the large majority of the country

230 MEMOIR.
is ready to rally round the Church.^ But it wiU
be with this as Avith the Eeform BiU ; if a real,
substantial reform be not effected, no alarmists AvdU
be able to keep in those who may oppose such
reforms. You, I have no doubt, are satisfied that
such a reform will be effected ; I am AvUling to
hope it. I earnestly pray for it ; but of this, I say,
the reaction has satisfied me — namely, that there
would not have been, Avithout a change of the
ministry, any fear for the cause of true rehgion.
It is all very well to refer to the French Eevolution
when you want to frighten others with your own
views ; but the people of this country have never
been what the French were in 1790 or are in 1835 ;
and although we, as a nation, faU far short of what
we ought to be, yet, thanks be to God, I know of
no other country where there is a more sohd sub
stratum of spiritual truth for the support of the
moral fabric. In spite of the flippancy of traveUers,
I consider the Americans to stand next to us in
these all-important advantages, and why ? Because
they are a portion of ourselves.
' For the condition of Church affairs here alluded to, see Life of
Br. Hook, pp. 105-110, small edition, or vol. i. p. 143, acq.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 231

To the same.
Si'ND.\Y School Teachi>(;. — Spiiutual Destitution of
Westminster.
Lmcoln's Inn : April 22, 1835.
... I stifle my mortification at not seeing
you at St. Margaret's^ (of which there appeared, I
thought, once a faint chance) by reflecting on the
anxiety such a charge (tAventy-six thousand souls)
might have entailed on you. The Bishop of Glou
cester tells everybody you ought to have been the
man. ... It Avould be an infinite blessing to have
a man at St. Margaret's who would co-operate
heart and hand with Jennings,^ and that each
might try to do his best for the two parishes ; for
assuredly our poor neighbours, who were severed
from the Avealthier parish in Queen Anne's time
only, liaA-e great need of assistance. . . . Char
lotte and I each take a class in the school on
Sunday morning from a quarter to nine till half-
past ten, and like our employment much. As it is
the only day on which I can see anything of my
father, I do not undertake the afternoon. The
infant school (which will be all the week) is not
yet set on foot. Probably the St. Margaret's clergy
' Dr. Milman, afterwards Dean of St. Paul's, had just been appointed
Rector of St. Alargaret's.
2 The Rector of St. John's.

232 MEMOIR.
Asdll attend more to that, for there seems to have
been some notion that the Sunday school was for
St. John's only. There are now three hundred
children in this school where Jennings found thirty-
five. . . . One thing I certainly do long to see —
the abolition of the only excuse for Methodism by
vigorous efforts to provide means for bringing the
Gospel home to the vast masses of population in
towns like London, Manchester, Liverpool, Bristol,
Coventry, &c. If one -tenth of the adult population
of St. John's vdshed to attend the church they
would Avith difficulty find room, and there is no
chapel. St. Margaret's is httle better, and the
pastoral care of fifty-two thousand in the two
parishes rests upon five clergymen ! Now, if expen
sive chapels are thought indispensable, we shaU
never get the better of this ; but why may not large
rooms be licensed, and why should there not be
junior deacons with httle pr no salary who, as a
probation for full orders, should aid the rector in
visiting, and officiate in these rooms, caUing in his
superior, of course, for the administration of the
sacraments or on any other particular occasion ? I
have not well digested this or any scheme, but
something must be done 'if we would have God's
blessing rest upon our Church and nation. I verily
believe that there are at least ten thousand people
in our two parishes who never use God's name or
Christ's but to blaspheme. The Eoman Cathohc

DL^RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 233
and Methodist chapels Avould, if crammed, as Avell
as the churches, leave at least this number AvhoUy
unprovided for. To the same.
PREACmNG, how FAR A MeANS OF GrRACE. — POLEMICS.
London : November 27, 1835.
. . . Jennings confirms your statement as to
the excitement of preaching, and says that you are
always fatigued with your Sunday evening lectures.
Now you must seriously reflect on this, and re
member that to preserve your usefulness unim-
pafred is the great point to be attended to. Your
own Adews as to preaching wiU render you less un
willing to abstain when your health renders it
expedient for you so to do. I have not sufficiently
considered the subject to make up my mind
whether or no preaching be a means of grace.
The only passage that occurs to me is that one in
the tenth chapter of the Epistle to the Eomans
where St. Paul certainly seems to attribute belief
to preaching as a means, and belief cannot come
without grace. But I will look into the matter
first in the Bible, and then I should hke to see the
tract you mention — which I will certainly get. I
generaUy find it best, for my own satisfaction, to
read the Bible on any disputed point, and then to
see the interpretation which has been given to any

234 MEMOIR.
particular passages, either by the Church or by its
most eminent members. I quite agree with you
as to the exaggerated estimate of sermons by one
party, and value our hturgy (I need not say the
sacraments) far more than the best sermon I ever
heard or read. With regard, however, to all
disputed points, I am beginning heartily to detest
all polemical writing. It seems to me that it is so
much easier to say ' do so and so,' than to say ' take
care you do not this or that because the Eomanists
or the Calvinists do it ; in short, to point out what
you conscientiously believe to be right, without
(otherAvise than by necessary inference), attacking
others as being wrong. Polemics generally im
prove the head at the expense of the heart, as the
excitement of the brain is said to weaken the circu
lation and digestive powers.
To the same.
The Hampden Controversy. — Exclusion of Eeligious
Books from Mechanics' Institutes, etc.
Dean's Yard : March 2, 1836.
. . . The present controversy at Oxford fairly
puzzles me. Can you tell me where the Socinian
doctrines are broached ? for if Hampden were
appointed, as it is asserted, university preacher in
1833, and professor of moral philosophy in 1834,
while the sermons were j)reached in 1832, it seems

DIARY' AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 235
to me a httle odd. I saw this passage in the
' Chronicle ' from his ' Bampton Lectures ' : ' The
Deity is revealed in Scripture as consisting of three
distinct persons, or "hypostases." ' Now that is flat
against Socinianism. I reaUy wish to know the
truth. I never heard Dr. Hampden's name in my
hfe before.
I ought, before this, to have adverted to a very
interesting point in your last letter. I cannot
agree Avith you as to the necessity, or even propriety,
of abstaining from aU societies where religious
books are excluded. Take the Eoyal Society, for
instance. They have funds raised from subscrip
tions by persons of aU religious opinions. Now,
knowing how sensitive all men are, and justly, on
this most interesting of all subjects, how could you
propose to introduce rehgious works into their
library (if it was a new proposal, I mean), without
a desire, on the part of the Jew or Mohammedan,
that there should be as many books on their side
of the question as yours ? Yet is there any good
reason for saying you ought not to associate with
Jews or Mohammedans for the purposes of science ?
You will say this is not a case in point, because
they have no such exclusive rule, and I have in
deed seen religious books in their library. But
this arises from the good sense of the members ;
and if any committee were to purchase a consider
able quantity of rehgious Christian books, I should

236 MEMOIR.
say a rule would become necessary to exclude all
books relating to rehgion as being unessential to
the objects of the institution. So it arose, I take
it, originally with the mechanics' institute ; and I
should think, myself, it would be better for the
members of the institute who wished for a religious
hbrary to found one, as a thing apart, rather than
to estabhsh a new society. It is not that the
Saviour is excluded, but that it is thought better
that the occasions on which the whole human race
can be brought to act in unison with each other, for
objects beneficial to mankind, should be multiphed
rather than diminished, and the natural tendency
to exclusiveness and consequent want of love,
which is one of the chief curses of mankind, should
thus be to a certain degree modified. Do not
people of aU rehgious subscribe to libraries and
reading rooms, where much that is useful is taught
(the Eoyal Institution, for instance) ? and would it
not be out of place to introduce religion at such
institutions ? and if it were introduced would not
a rule excluding it be necessary ? and would a
Christian be less justified in subscribing then than
he was before ? St. Paul himself seems to think
that a Christian may dine with a heathen (1 Cor.
xi.). Would not Christian conversation be tacitly
excluded there ? I consider it right that the
Church should have a real, not a pretended, unity
of mind in the worshippers of Christ ; but she

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 237
judges not ' those Avho are without ; ' aud I think
that, looking to the narroAv and exclusive views we
are prone to adopt, Ave should rather gladly avail
ourselves of all points of union with our fellow men,
unconnected Avith acts of worship. At the same
time I entirely agree Avith you that those are in
tolerant Avho interfere AAdth you, when you take a
different vicAV. If you only secede, and do not
preach against others, they have no right to
complain. Every man has an unquestionable
hberty to act according to his conscience.^
To the same.
A GOOD Sermon. — A successful Speech in Court.
Dean's Yard : April 24, 1836.
. . . We had an excellent sermon this morn
ing from the Speaker's chaplain on ' Stand in awe,
and sin not ; commune with your own heart,' &c.
It seemed, I thought, specially intended for me,
who have had a most bustling time, especially
during this week, being up till two one morning,
and three another at work. He spoke especially
of the necessity of meditation for the man of busi
ness. . . . My vanity, which is superabundant,
and wiU have (I often really pray for it) some
severe check, has been perhaps over-gratified by
my having got well through a summing up of the
' For the letter to which this is a reply, see Life of Br. Hook, p. 184,
small edition, and vol. i. p. 279.

238 MEMOIR.
Brighton Eailway Case in the Committee of the
Peers at a few hours' notice. Lord Strangford and
the Duke of Portland, to neither of whom I had
ever spoken, went out of their way to compliment
me personaUy, and our chairman, the Duke of
Eichmond, ' puffed ' me much to our solicitor. I
am told I made two converts by the speech — a very
unusual event, and, I may add, a very improbable
one. It is to be printed ; so perhaps I shaU treat
you to a copy, which you need not read.
To the same.
Christianity and Ethics.
Lincoln's Inn : February 10, 1837.
... It often occurs to me that none but a
Christian can see ' good in everything.' I know
not how the Deist (few, I believe, are in theory
Atheists) can reconcile any evil Avith God's benevo
lence. They look upon the Deity as so benevolent
that He wUl pardon sin, in the same manner as man
pardons his feUow sinner, upon repentance ; for
getting the great distinction that it is because we
feel our own infirmity and weakness, and liability
to similar errors, that we are naturally led to for
give others ; whereas nothing of this kind exists in
the Deity. The parable of the lord forgiving his
servant ten thousand talents, whilst the same servant
vindictively prosecuted his fellow servant for the

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 239
hundred pence, is irresistible as an argument to every
man, deriving, no doubt, additional force in the
Christian's mind from his deeper sense of guilt to
wards God. Again, the Deist has a low notion of
the purity of God. His Deity is, in fact, anthropo
morphous, though he boasts that he alone worships
in spirit and in truth. Hence his conception of the
Aveak benevolence Avhich requires no further atone
ment than repentance, the effect of which on the
administration of the universe may be fairly esti
mated by comparing the result of a similar principle
in the government of a nation. Eepentance, even
accompanied Avith restitution (which is not ahvays
possible), has never been deemed an adequate
justification of the offender in any community. I
use justification here as it appears to be used in
Scripture — namely, as replacing the party in posses
sion of all the privileges of an unoffending citizen.
Now, to resume the point whence I digressed, I
cannot see how the Deist can suppose that the
same weak benevolence should permit any of those
afflictions under which all, the best perhaps the
most severely, must labour. He cannot look on
them, and practicaUy no Deist does look on the
ordinary calamities of hfe, as judgments and partial
punishments for sin, because they equally befall the
moral and the wicked. I am at a loss, therefore,
to conceive how he can support his afflictions, or
maintain his confidence in God. And in truth we

240 MEMOIR,
may see examples not unfrequentiy of his inabihty
to do so. I have no doubt that Cicero was a Deist,
and a sincere and at times an enthusiastic one ;
but we see how his faitli and his whole soul were
shaken by the death of his daughter. I have
known another fearful instance of a man of some
note in our own time, who, dying of a fearfully
painful disorder, several times exclaimed, ' What
can I have done to deserve this ? ' What a flood
of hght breaks upon the Christian in such cases !
He sees the heinousness of sin requiring a no less
fearful expiation than the suffering of God's own
beloved Son ; he knows his own weakness and the
strong bias of the natural man to fix his love on all
that is present and visible, though temporal, rather
than on that which is future and invisible, though
eternal. He looks, therefore, upon every trouble
as a messenger sent to call him more and more fre
quently from the absorbing thoughts of this hfe,
and these messengers become more frequent as his
pilgrimage draws towards its close. Each bereave
ment at least fixes in his mind the transitory nature
of his present enjoyments, if it does not strengthen
his faith, and increase his love, by a conviction that
those who are removed from earth have been
translated to heaven ; so that the band of his earthly
friends and companions becomes more and more
numerous in his heavenly home, and his affections
conspire with his faith to make him regard the

DL\RY' AND CORRESPONDENCE 1H2.S-1847. 241
earth as a place of exile, whicli before perhaps, and
in their society, he was too apt to regard as at least
a Zoar, Avithout having energy to rise to any loftier
height. I intend to read the tract you mention.
Happily, as you observe, the rationahstic philosophy
is so iU adapted to our nature that men's affections
are inconsistent Avith their theory, and it is, after all,
' Avith the heart that men believe unto righteous
ness,' or disbeUcA^e to thefr condemnation. This is
indeed, I think, the leading point of Eevelation.
AU heathen and aU deistical phUosophers apply
themselves to the head in ethics, no less than in
metaphysics, or mathematics. Now, if it so hap
pened that all mankind were born with an here
ditary disease of the brain, so that they could not
understand the fundamental axioms of mathematics,
it is clear no mathematics could ever be taught ; if
they all had a disease of the eye which made right
lines appear crooked and the converse, it is clear
that no correct notions could be arrived at in
geometry ; and, if aU were under the same delu
sions, there would be no standard by which the
errors could be detected. But suppose a miracu
lous birth by whicli some one individual is produced,
— free, himself, from the disease of the brain or the
eye, able to discover the mathematical truths which
before could not be taught, and at the same time
to find a remedy for the disease — it is clear that he
Ym, J. E

242 MEMOIR.
would not attempt to teach the science, or correct
the errors, until he had first cured the disease, else
he would throAv his pearls before swine, who
would turn and rend him. Noav this seems to me
exactly the case Avith our hearts, by which we
mean our affections as distinguished from mere
reason, the movers to every action, the determining
executive which may, or may not, accept the
counsel of reason. Our hearts then are depraved,
and are unable to" determine us to that which is
right and good, but are very powerfuUy disposed
towards evil ; and this disease must be cured before
morals can be in the slightest degree understood.
Thus selfishness, the Avorst part of our fallen
nature, is assumed by some as the principle of
moral conduct (Bentham). Sympathy, a better but
a very erring gaiide (as our sympathies, too, are
corrupt), is the rule proposed by another (Adam
Smith). The general good or bad consequences of
actions, if all men Avere to do the same, is the
criterion proposed by a third (Paley), which assumes
a foresight possessed by the Deity alone, and also a
possibihty of deciding on good and bad, which is
the very point at issue. The Christian, on the
other hand, says : ' I AAdll first clear my vision by
asking God, to open my eyes that I may see the
wondrous things of His law ; then I will ask for
strength to walk in the way He has set before me ;
and as there is no strength Avithout life, and as He

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 243
tells me that I have no life except I abide in His
Son, and except I eat and drink His ilesh and blood,
I Avill avail myself of all these blessed means, and
above all avUI seek the assistance ofthe Comforter.'
With these supports the Christian moralist be
gins his course, and he soon sees that much which
he thought innocent is impure in the sight of Him
who ' charges His angels with folly.' He will be
careful to avoid even the appearance of evil, as
knowing it to be part of his duty to throw no
stumbhng block in the way of his weaker brethren :
he vriU be no less sympathising than the morahst
of any other school, but he avUI pray for guidance
in his sympathy : he wiU be no less active and
strenuous than if he Avere acting on the selfish
principle, or rather far more so, since God's glory,
which involves good will towards men, requires all
his energy, and that energy, too, is now supernatur-
ally quickened. He wiU also carefully study the
general consequences of his actions, guided by Him
who sees the end from the beginning.
I confess I do long to see a good sound work
on Christian morals, drawn out with piety, and yet
Avith vigour. I think many books, excellent in
their way, are useful to those only who have made
great proficiency in their Christian course. Many,
also, are too declamatory, and I may add ^.rclama-
tory. I think Knox or Jebb might have Avritten
just such a book as I mean. You would not have
R 2

244 MEMOIR.
time for it. It would require great leisure, because,
to be thoroughly useful, it should bear in view, not
controversially, but didactically, all the errors it
has to confute, substituting truth for them, not
directly attacking them — the only means, I think, by
which those are to be reached who are unhappily
imbued with error. Pride revolts at a direct
attack. To the same.
Qualifications for a difficult Position. — The
Liturgy, — Morality in Politics,
Lincoln's Inn ; August 8, 1837.
I have been longing daily to answer or rather
to acknowledge your very interesting letter received
more than a fortnight back. I had been Avishing
to know what you thought of your new territories,^
when lo ! a letter quite in the old tone of our earliest
friendship, which brought you £ind your flock
before me more than a dozen descriptions by other
persons could have doije. I quite see the nature
of your task, and it will, no doubt, be uphill work
at first. It is never pleasant to find ourselves jar
ring in opinion with those amongst whom our daUy
intercourse is to be, but I know not of any one fitter
than yourself in natu.ral gifts for this position. . . .
' The parish of Leeds, to which Dr. Hook had just then been
appointed. For the letter here alluded to, see Life of Br. Hook,
p. 240, small edition, and vol. i. p. 404.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 245
Your natural defect you have by God's grace
been able greatly to overcome ; I mean your quick
and irritable temper, Avhich in boyhood caused
you so much annoyance, and even misery. I
assure you it is often humiliating to me to look at
your improA'ement and my own stationary position,
to say the least of it (for to be stationary in rehgion
is to retrograde), more especially as regards this
point, for I think you have uoav decidedly the
advantage of me in respect of temper. . . .
I shaU be glad when you can set about your
sermons on the Liturgy. You Avill find, I am sure,
so much interest in the subject, independently of
the benefit to be derived by others from them.
How much there often is in a small compass ! I
am fr'equently struck with the prayer at the end
of the Confession, ' that we may hereafter live a
godly, righteous, and sober life, to the glory of
Thy Holy Name,' thus summing up our duties to
God, our neighbours, and ourselves, and dfrecting
us to the object of aU holy hving, namely, God's
glory, not our own. And, though in a 'more
modern prayer, how beautifuUy are the passive
and active blessings, the cause and effect, associated
in the- ' peace and happiness, truth and justice,
rehgion and piety,' which we implore for our
country ! It has been much, in my mind during
the late elections, for I have tried as far as possible
to get rid of party violence and excitement, and to

246 MEMOIR.
make the cause of my country a matter of serious
and religious meditation. In fact we are all, I
think, deficient here. We have a mass of crude
opinion, the offspring of mere habit and prejudice,
which we seldom bring to the test of honest
reUgious reflection. Were it not so, we should not
see men, otherAvise good, indulging in the use of
every coarse, vulgar implement that comes to their
hand to annoy an adversary, nor scruphng at any
lie that serves its temporary purpose, advocating,
before the mob, principles they disclaim to the
House of Commons, and aU this on both sides.
The mob have been pandered to on the Tory side
as to the New Poor Law by men Avho have supported
aU its provisions in the House, as much as they
were CA'er hounded on to outrage on the Corn Law
and other questions by the Eadical party. As we
agree to differ on politics, I shall not discuss them
with you. It may perhaps give you pleasure to
hear that there certainly are many people turned
into so-called Conservatives who were Eeformers,
and that I anticipate ten or twelve years of what
I call misgovernment ; for I assure you, do what I
can, and seeing all the faults (which are many) of
our side, I cannot bring myself to think that a
standstill system will be beneficial to us. Perhaps,
however, it may be useful for a time ' stare super
antiquas vias,' as Bacon is fond of quoting from
Scripture ; but then he always adds, ' with a view
to look forward for the better path.'

DLVRY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 247
To tlie .¦<ame.
Lincoln's Inn : November 29, 1837.
I lia\'e tAVO A'cry interesting letters to thank
you for. Your last, though short, Avas not the
least interesting. You may suppose we have all
rejoiced, our neighbours included, in the great
success of the subscription.^ ... I have often
thought that Exodus xxxv. 21, or stiU more xxxvi.
5-7 (the chapters are little read), Avould afford
exceUent texts for stirring people up to such works.
Luther's soUfidianism has certainly much quenched
charity in its fuUer acceptation ; and though love
to man be doubtless one of the best demonstrations
of love to God, yet a little more warmth of affection
towards both Avould, I think, make us dehghtin
outward demonstration, just as we make presents
to those Ave love, not because they want such
testimonials, but because it is a j)leasure to say in
every possible way, ' I love you.' The ultra
Protestants seem to have been zealous in knocking
down churches and cathedrals, but they have
erected few monuments of affection. They seem
to have had httle of David's ardent and affectionate
devotion ; for the magnificence of modern dwell
ings contrasts strangely with the barnlike appear
ance of modern chapels. How St. Paul's ever
was buUt is a marvel. It arose, I imagine, from
' For rebuilding the parish church at Leeds.

248 IMEMOIR.
the iconoclasts being then out of fashion for a
season. I Avas dehghted Avith your extract from Mr.
Faber's letter, which I carry about with me and
read, as well as I can (this I say in revenge for
sundry impertinent observations ^), to all those who
are circulating lies about the Oxonians. It is
marvellous with what activity these lies are spread,
and assuredly they denote that the Oxford brethren
are unpleasing to the father of lies, from his energy
in opposing their works. The last he was that
they had canonised Bishop Ken ; who had actep^
as Pope I could not learn. At the same time the
Tracts have not done so much good, I think, as
they might have achieved had they been free from
several blots which I cannot but consider of serious
consequence. What, you wiU ansAver, is free from
imperfection in human works ? This, alas ! is too
true ; and, what is worse, we all have more of the
spider than the bee in our composition, and
Uke to suck out the poison rather than the honey.
I have always hked Edward's ^ way of treating
his boy when he has begun to criticise, as we are
wont in youth especially to do, in order to show
our nascent wisdom in the discovery of faults.
He has always said, ' Look out for beauties and
merits ; it requires far more talent to find them
^ i.e. on his handwriting, which was remarkably bad.
^ His brother-in-law, the Rev. E. Moor.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1B47. 249
out. Any fool can see a blot, but only those who
are Avell informed can discover the genius of an
author, a painter, ^:c., or Avhatever the subject may
be.' When avc add to this that our Christian
charity should be, above all things, active to edifi
cation, we ought certainly to feel ashamed of all
the dirt we may have contributed to throw o'n
many of the goodly stones that will hereafter shine
forth in the glorious temple of the Ncav Jerusalem.
I have often deeply repented my share in this, when
a young man, with regard to the so-called Evan-
geUcals, many of whom, when I was little able to
appreciate their exceUence from my OAvn lack of
Christian faith and purity, I ventured to ridicule.
It is surprising (though I ought, perhaps, hardly to
use the word) what progress the real piety of the
Oxonians has caused them to make. A very
exceUent and dear friend of Charlotte's, who was
decidedly of the other school, has a sister now
married and settled at Oxford, and both have
become great admfrers of Newman. I think the
' Churchification,' as you call it, of the ' Evans '
would go further to make a perfect Christian than
anything I know. It must be the work of the
Spirit, and, as such, will of course be opposed by
the enemy. . . .
I have been much interested lately by a letter
I have received from Charlotte's cousin, Augustus
Frazer. He is an excellent fellow, and is a most

250 MEMOIR.
earnest seeker after truth, and part of the occasion
of this letter is to ask your assistance and guidance
in directing his course. He became a real Christian
principally through the Evangehcal party, and then
became still less sound in Church views by seeing
much of a clever and, I beheve, pious man, Dr.
Ohmhus Gregory, who is a Baptist. We used to
have frequent talks together, and one day, by
chance as one calls it, I used your remark as to the
Apostle cautioning us against those who walk
dra/cTws.-'^ It happened to strike me as applicable
to him, particularly as a military man, and I argued
on it in that way. Many months after this, just
before I went abroad, he said he had thought much
of our conversation, and he borrowed Newman's
sermons and the Oxford Tracts, and your Oxford
sermons of me. On our return we found he had
left with his troop for Sheffield ; and from Sheffield
he Avrote to me the other day saying he had been
much struck with many new things in the Tracts,
and altogether greatly interested in all the books I
had lent him, but said he felt a little bewildered
between his old and new ideas, and asked my
assistance, the more so because my remark about
walking araKT&Js had first set him thinking, and he
was most anxious to get right. I have recom
mended him to read Hooker, especially the preface
and the first book, and also Jebb's Correspondence ;
and now I want you to point out that which you
' Anglice 'disorderly.'

DL\RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 251
think Avoidd suit him. WordsAvorth's book seems
to me as if it might be very useful ; but Uving
converse is ahvays Avanting, and I Avish much to
know, before I AA^rite again, if you can recommend
any one of the clergy of Sheffield with whom he
should endeavour to become acquainted. . . .
What you say of the Eoman Catliohc tactics is
much borne out bj^ an anecdote told me by an
Itahan Avho has become a Protestant, though not
exactly a Churchman. When he in confession was
ordered to pray to the saints, he said he could not.
' WeU,' said the confessor, ' if you are bold enough
to approach the Saviour AAdthout their intervention,
you may, but do not mention it.' Now this was
an Itahan priest, so the scheme is widely laid. God
grant it may issue in a reform from within of that
unhappy Church ! To the same.
Ignorance of CnuRCHMANsmp. — G-radual Extension of
Christian Duties. — A Scene with a Madman.
Lincoln's Inn: February 6, 1838.
... I thought I had a good deal to say about
your preface, but cannot now think of much
beyond what I mentioned in my last. Both the
work and the preface^ will, I trust, be very service
able. Half the rehgious Avorld (as it is fashionably
' The preface to Dr. J. M'Vicar's Life of Bishop Hohart was
written by Dr. Hook. For notices of Bishop Hobart see Life of Br.
Hook. -m). 71-76, small edition, and vol. i. pp. 98-104.

252 MEMOIR.
caUed, instead of the Church) would be httle able
to appreciate such a character as Hobart's, from
pure ignorance of Avhat a Churchman is. It is
singular to see Iioav half the people you talk with
stare if you speak of the Catholic Church with
reference to any but Papists, as though they had
never heard the Creed or Prayer for aU Conditions
of Men. This is unquestionably a sore evil ; but I
hope there are symptoms of a ' Churchifying,' as
you have termed it, of the Evangelicals. Bishop
Wilson [of Calcutta] is a remarkable instance of
this process. I believe him to have been a con
scientious man, and that, being placed in a new
position, he for the first time began to inquire what
a bishop was. Assuredly I prefer the appointment
of such men to that of many others, some of
dubious doctrine, others of still more dubious
practice. . . .
I regret much that you should have had any
family annoyance from the misjudging zeal of the
party Christians ; that subdivision into coteries,
the substitution of some conventional language for
the practical testimony of Christian fellowship, is
one of the chief mischiefs of their mistaken course.
It breaks up family ties, and leads not unfrequentiy
to associations which are afterwards deplored. I
think nothing is more essential to be impressed on
us all, than a careful attention to the pecuhar
duties Providence has set before us. Thus our

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 253
homes, our families, our parishes, our dioceses, form
one Avidening circle for the exei'cisc of religious
sympathies, extending onwards to our oAvn nation,
and then to the universal Churcli. According to
our proportion of talents it is evident that our zeal
must be extended to one or more of these circles
of duty. Some can only provide for their family ;
they are guilty of a direct breach of the Divine
law, and the Apostle teUs us are Avorse than heathens,
if they neglect this (say, for instance, to run after
the estabhshment of some favourite ApoUos in the
parish pulpit) ; others can extend a portion of their
time and influence to parochial affairs without
injuring their family, but yet have neither fair
time nor abiUty to be attending meetings at Exeter
Hall for translating the Bible into Chinese, or
sending missionaries to New Zealand, and so on.
Ta. eauTou irpaTTeiv^ is the definition of justice that
Plato at last arrives at in his ' Eepublic,' and a very
serviceable one it would be to many Christians
likcAvise. . . .
Charlotte, I am happy to say, is quite well,
notAvithstanding a great fright she had last Friday
from a poor madman insisting on coming to our
house instead of going to Bedlam, whither I had
departed to meet him. His Avife went into violent
hysterics till she was almost as mad as her husband,
clasping Charlotte round the waist, and insisting
that her husband had killed us both. Happily,
' ' To do one's own business.'

254 MEMOIR.
some of our kind neighbours managed to hel])
Charlotte out of her diffi^culty, and Jennings got
the man sent to the workhouse. Happily, too>
though the man has taken up a knife and threat
ened to kill his Avife scA^eral times, he is \'ery docUe
both with Charlotte and me, so that she was not
so much alarmed as she otherwise would have been.
To the same.
The Nature of Heavenly Eest. — The Evils of
Controversy.
Lincoln's Inn : May 20, 1838.
... I shall much regret your losing a hohday ;
but, still, a change of occupation will be in some
respects a holiday to you. I can quite see by your
last two letters that you have been overworked,
and I fully enter into that craving for rest which
you express so feelingly. But I doubt not you
have also often felt that when your holidays have
been extended to any great length you begin to
feel uneasy. I am quite prepared for Avorking
again at the end of any vacation I get. A some
thing Avithin us here is always whispering that man
is formed for labour, and confirms, if it needed
confirmation, the record of the primaaval curse. I
have often, my dear friend, dwelt, as you now do,
in my heart upon the peace and rest of heaven,
which I apprehend will be principally felt as a

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 255
spiritual rest from sin, and from the assaults of the
Tempter ; for no doubt the angels are continually
and actively employed in God's service. A rest
from the wickedness of others must bring unspeak
able calm to the persecuted saint ; but oh ! how
infinitely more overwhelming the joyfulness of
heart of the A\'earied and trembling sinner when
' his warfare shall have been accomplished ' and
' his iniquities pardoned ' ! I dare not think often
of these things, finding it not to be good for me.
I am by nature much too sanguine ; too much
inchned to dweU on God's mercy and the bliss of
heaven, and to pass over my own horrible guilt and
the awfulness of the sacrifice required for it.
I read yesterday Newman's sermon on the
' Eeligion of the Present Day,' in his first volume,
and found it pecuharly apphcable to myself ; yes,
fearfuUy so. The world has run so smoothly with
me ; I have always borne a good name, and have
been, unconsciously on their part, so much flattered
by many of those dear to me, that I seem at times
as if I were in a dream of peace which will be
hereafter frightfuUy dissipated. I greatly need
your prayers, my oldest and best of friends, and
not your praise ; for, if I know my own heart at all,
I am devoured by a fearful vanity and regard for
the world's good opinion which is a root of bitter
ness in me. . . .
I am sorry that you have been involved in a

256 MEMOIR.
paper war, and I particularly regret that your
curate should have entered the hsts — a proceeding
of which you will bear the credit, or, rather, the
discredit. It is always lamentable to see contro
versy in the Church ; and, indeed, it seldom
answers any Christian purpose when carried on
with heretics. So difficult is it to argue for truth
and not for victory ! One expression which shpped
from you in your letter betrayed the necessary
irritation created by such contests. You say the
pamphlet against  should have been treated
with ' sarcasm ' — a most unchristian weapon, and
the surest annihilation of love in the bosom of the
combatants. In short, as I said before, it appears
to me that controversy is most injurious to the
cause of Christ. Sound exposition of true doctrine
seems to me the surest and most faithful defence
against the enemies of the truth, whether misguided
or malignant. To the same.
On the Sermon 'Hear the Church,'
Dean's Yard : June 30, 1838.
I write in great haste to save the post. I have
just had a long talk with Joshua Watson. I
pointed out to him the passage that was omitted,
and he thinks it a great improvement. But what
I want to say is that the only thing he feels

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 257
annoyed about is the laxity of the composition.
This Archdeacon Bailey also felt, and, indeed, his
few hues of notice Avere these : ' This sermon was
never intended for publication, as may be seen by
the laxity of the composition ; but circumstances
having arisen Avhich imperatively demand its pub
lication, it is noAV printed, as it Avas preached, verba
tim et literatim.'' But, nevertheless, both he and
Joshua agree in thinking it ought to go to the
press. Joshua Watson, however, thinks as regards
the Archdeacon's notice (and I quite agree), that
you ought not to make any apology at all. People
AvUl say, if you do, that you had no business to
Avrite a sermon Avithout taking pains, when you
knew you were going to preach before the Queen ;
and, after aU, it is matter, not manner, which all
sensible people AviU appreciate. The sermon,
Joshua Watson thinks, will do much good, though
it will not do you any as a composition in respect
of style. To the .same.
Coach Teavelllng Forty-five Years Ago.
Lincoln : September 21, 1838.
. . . After leaving you and your dear wife and
chUdren, we, happily perhaps on the whole, had our
sentiment entirely interrupted by a very unpleasant
scene in Briggate. The coach, it seems, carries six
inside ; and, just as we were congratulating ourselves
Vol. I. S

258 MEMOIR.
that we were only four, we found we had to take
up two more. One of these was a very dirty-look
ing woman, who seemed to be very iU, poor thing,
and was clad in almost rags. We asked what was
the matter with her — for I really thought it inight
be some infectious disorder— when her companion
said he was a constable, and that she was charged
on a coroner's verdict Avith child murder, and
was going to York Gaol. This I thought rather
too much, there being another lady in the coach
besides Charlotte ; and, as we should have to be very
closely packed, I went to the ' Bull and Mouth,'
the coachman and guard both saying it was too
bad, and that, as the company had aUowed her to
be booked at Halifax, they ought now to make the
best of it by sending her on in a chaise. The guard
said this to a proprietor at the ' Bull and Mouth,'
but he absolutely refused. I then said I should
not go by the coach ; upon which the said pro
prietor was very impertinent, and said one per
son's money was as good as another's, &c. ; and
amongst other things, when I stated that the county
was bound to convey persons charged with felony
by separate conveyances, he replied that 'his
coach was half supported by felons,' which was
comphmentary to your Leeds gentry. I never met
with more insolence. They threatened not to let
me take my luggage off, though I had paid all the
fare. I said, in that case, I must get a warrant

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 259
against them for steahng my luggage, and then
they let me take it down. When it was all off,
they at last discovered that the poor woman could
go outside. I did not much hke this, but it was
beautiful weather ; I offered my great-coat, but the
coachman had two cloaks for her ; and so aU the
luggage was repacked, and at last at half-past ten
we left, and got to York at a httle after one o'clock.
To the same.
Alexander Knox, Faber, and JSTewman on Justifi
cation, — Secession of a Friend to Eome,
Lmcoln's Inn : October 29, 1888.
By the time you receive this it will be six weeks
since we left Leeds, and I am reaUy longing much
for a line from you. I want to hear what you are
about in the parish. We arrived in town on
Thursday last, and are very thankful for the re
trospect of our late travels, for aU the kindness we
have experienced, and for the happiness of seeing
so many who are dear to us, in health, and, what is
better, actively and beneficiaUy employed in their
Christian course, and for aU the opportunities thus
afforded us to advance in hohness. Yesterday we
received the Holy Communion in our own church,
and I feel much awakened to a sense of all my own
deficiencies. At such times we feel, notwithstand
ing our own unworthiness, a great interest for
S 2

260 MEMOIR.
Others who are dear to us, and the great blessing of
being permitted to pray for them, and to feel
assured that their prayers also are assisting us. . . .
The Suffolk clergy are, many of them, young
men, with perpetual curacies of only 50Z. or 60^. a
year. Their zeal may be partly estimated from this
fact, and I am convinced they only want a little-
information to be set right. In one, for instance, I
have witnessed a very considerable change. When
I last met him he was strongly opposed to baptis
mal regeneration and tradition. Faber seems to
have brought him round on both these points, but
now he is equaUy vehement against the Oxford
school on the score of their doctrine of justification.
He has read Newman, and thinks his views the
same as those of the Eomanists, and he pressed
' Faber on Justification ' upon me, which I read ; but,
on the other hand, I have begged him to read the
Oxford Tracts and your sermon (the visitation one)
which has just reached us.'' I have read Faber
carefuUy. Alexander Knox is tremendously inju
dicious, to say the least of it, in one paragraph,
where he talks of the time coming when we shaU
cease to rest on any foundation but a moral one ;
but this error is in unguardedness of expression,
for it is quite clear to me that Faber has mistaken
^ ' A Call to Union on the Principles of the English Reformatioii,'
printed in vol. i. of the Church and its Ordinvances. See lAfe of
Br, Hooh, p. 254, small edition, and vol. i, p. 431.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1,828-1847. 261
Knox throughout. The passage quoted from Knox
in Faber's preface speaks of justification as ' pre
supposing a moral change.' Now look at Hooker's
sermon on Justification, § 21 ; you find he defines
the righteousness of sanctification as twofold — the
one habitual (a efis), i.e. a character of soul, part
of its substance as it Avere ; the other as evinced
by works, the result of the habit, eft9 ; and he says
that justification is preceded by this habit, so that,
though first in dignity, it is last in order. Now
this, as it strikes me, is the very meaning of Knox,
not only in the passage I have last referred to, but
also inthe more objectionable one above. He does
not say that this habit procures our justification,
but that it is a necessary part of it, just as Hooker
also says that justification and sanctification aU
come at once, and metaphysicaUy the substance of
righteousness is implanted, as preceding our
being held or declared righteous ; this substance
being in NcAvman's opinion no less than Christ Him
self dweUing in us, and not merely externally by
His merits procuring our justification. But, to
speak candidly, I much regret all this metaphysical
disquisition. As I told the clergyman in question,
I do not find myself one whit the better for reading
Newman or Faber, save and except the splendid
passages in ' Newman on Hohness ' independently of
his metaphysics. Now if these worthy men would only just ask

262 MEMOIR.
themselves where they agree instead of where
they differ, the case would, I think, stand thus :
Eomanists, Knox, Newman, Faber all agree —
(I.) That Christ's death is the only meritorious
cause of our receiving justification or any other
good gift.
(H.) That justification and sanctification are so
inseparable that no one can receive the one Avithout
the other.
(m.) That one who produces no good works,
time being allowed (to avoid the question of the
penitent thief, who, I think, did a good work in
trying to convert his brother malefactor), is not in
a justified state. Knox, NcAvman, and Faber
further agree —
(IV.) That our good works after justification
can never exceed what is required of us ; that we
are, after all, unprofitable servants in doing at least
no more than we ought to do ; and here comes in
the broad distinction between Knox and the
Eomanists which Mr. Faber says he cannot see, but
which just brings forward all the horrible notions
of indulgences, transfer of works, &c. &c., and
which is intimately connected with the worshipping
of saints and of the Virgin, though, perhaps, in
order of time the worshipping of saints led to the
other error of supererogation.
Well, now, if these four points are fairly looked
at, why should such men as Faber and Knox or

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 263
Faber and NcAvman be thought to differ funda-
mentaUy ? Perhaps the latter think (I am not
quite clear of this) that perfection may be attained
in this hfe ; stiU they do not say that more than
enough can be done ; and with regard to the main
stress of Faber's argument as to external and in
herent righteousness, I am sure he himself will not
say a man can be saved without sanctification,
which is admitted on aU hands to be inherent, nor
AviU the others say a man can be saved without
Christ's merits. Then the difference seems to me
principally metaphysical, partly also arising from
the natural leaning of man to a one-sided view,
to a half truth, to a system, in short, whereas the
New Testament has beautifuUy avoided all system.
Perhaps NcAvman's school dweUs too much on
inherent hohness, as Faber's would on external
hohness; but observe, the words inherent and ex
ternal are scholastic and not scriptural. There are
striking texts on both points. Careless men, sensual
men, worldly-minded men, require the strong texts
as to intrinsic hohness ; while weak and timid con
sciences and men of desponding temperament re-
qufre the texts as to Christ's merits being all-
sufficient. . . .
I have received a beautiful letter from old
Minchin ^ in answer to that I sent from Leeds. He
' An old schoolfellow, one of the Shakspearian Club. His lapse
to Rome was predicted by Dr. Hook. See Life of Br. Hook, p. 185.

264 MEMOIR,
is full of kindness and affection, but the most inter
esting point is his announcement that he has been
received into the Eoman Catholic Church. He
appears to have failed in distinguishing between
oral and written tradition, and between uniform
tradition and modern invention, and he asks how
we can define the period of the antiquity to which
we refer, and whether that must not rest on human
authority. He asks, as to our unity, whether any
two of our parish priests agree as to justification or
election. I think I can observe, as to this, that we
agree quite as much as the Jansenists and Jesuits ;
and, indeed, here I would refer to your sermon on
Unity which I wiU try to get to him. Now what
think you of my entering into any controversy with
him, which he evidently solicits ? I doubt its pro
priety a httle ; and if he but firmly hold the founda
tion, as Hooker caUs it, I should be loth to un
settle him. If you think best, I would rather
recommend him books than argue, which, in fact, I
am incompetent to do. Help me in this matter.
You Avould be delighted with the affectionate tone
of his letter, which shows more than anything his
real conversion or renewal to Christianity.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 265

To the same.
The Blessedness of Sunday. — The Natural and
THE Spiritual Man.
Dean's Yard: April 28, 1839.
You are the only person to whom I ever write
on a Sunday, nor do I often, even with you, break
in on any portion of this blessed day of rest. Few
can feel its value more than I have done of late,
for I have been so hard worked and so immersed
in worldly matters these last few weeks that, were
it not for the calmness of this day, I should become
a mere machine ; the sport of all the events in
which I find myself as it were irresistibly engaged,
and should scarcely be conscious of a soul with
in me. The t/fin^tKos dvOpoiiro';^ has certainly
much the most of me during the week. In writing
a few fines to you now that Charlotte has gone to
bed, I feel that I am enjoying some refreshment of
spirit which harmonises with the day. ... I am
becoming more and more sensible of its being a
besetting sin Avith me to pine after the enjoyment
of ease, tranquilhty, and freedom from pain.
These are the things craved after by the natural
man, as I have just been reading in a beautiful
sermon of Barrow's on the gift of the Holy Ghost.
The spiritual man knows that suffering and labour
^ ' The natural man.'

266 MEMOIR,
are his portion in this Ufe, and that, though he
may have the same longings after happiness, he
will not look for it on earth, though he may thank
fully receive what is permitted him. Long-con
tinued mercies have, I fear, rendered me wilful
in this respect, and I know not how I should bear
severe trial. I remember two of Keble's lines —
Lovest thou praise 1 the Cross is shame ;
Or ease ? the Cross is bitter grief;
and I often think both may be required to bring
me to God.
To the same.
Eeminiscences of Boyhood,
Beahngs: October 7, 1839.
. . , I cannot teU you how interested we
both were in all your description of the early
scenes of your boyhood at Ilfracombe.^ They
are, indeed, vividly imprinted upon your memory,
for your description could not be more accurate,
had you been there with us on this last tour. The
Summer House at Linton still exists. We sat in
it ; and what a touching as well as magnificent
prospect it commands ! It would, no doubt, have
been more interesting to us had we known aU that
you had then felt in the poetic dreams of chUd-
hood — the poetic age ; for assuredly our imagina-
' See letter in Life of Br. Hook, p. 299, small edition ; vol. ii. p. 401.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 267
tion is then all-poAverful. Our reason is then
weak ; our active, buoyant spirits aUow little re
flection on the past ; the senses are in their fullest
actiA'ity and vigour ; thc impressions made on them
are novel, and therefore vivid ; and the joyous
anticipations of the soul, unchecked by experience
and its consequent disappointments, form a thousand
varied pictures of imaginary beauty and happiness.
Dull, indeed, must he be whose childhood has been
unimaginative. With regard to yourself, my dearest friend,
how much did your letter recaU to my mind your
early habits of thought, and somewhat wayward
reserve of character ! How often, too, have I again
lived over those early days in the few hours which
I and Charlotte spent at Winchester ! She and I
walked our favourite walk in meads where, when
I became a prefect, we used to enjoy the facihty
given to our soUtary rambles. We saw the old
tree where you read me your tragedy of ' James
n. ; ' and I read some stuff of mine, which I remem
ber I always felt to be wonderfully inferior to
your reaUy poetic turn of mind. There, too, you
used to read to me any new play that came out.
We strolled to the end of meads and then turned
up past sundry places, called Dalmatia, &c., to
Tunbridge. There we saw the old chalk-pit where
at Evening Hills you used to sit with me, and we
each had our Shakspeare, and read in dialogue

268 MEMOIR,
Avith each other ; and then we wended our way by
the river-side, passing Newbridge and along God-
dard's Walk, home. How deep is every impression of
these old haunts ! It seemed to me but yesterday
that we were there together. I can well recoUect,
in Goddard's Walk, even the very spot where you
got angry Avith me for interrupting you in the
middle of a story ; and many little, trifling matters
like this, which seem so mysteriously to entAvine
themselves around particular places. But I am
thankful that I had better and deeper thoughts,
too, to feed upon. We were at Winchester by twelve
o'clock on Tuesday, and we went at once over the
college. How solemn did the chapel seem to me!
Last night only we were reading here a sermon of
Newman's, called ' Christ in remembrance ' (I
think), in his last volume, in which he says that
we do not feel the greatest blessings at the time,
but afterwards. He illustrates this from Scripture,
as Jacob not being conscious of the great Angel's
presence whilst wresthng with him, but on His
departure, and so of the same mysterious Being's
appearance to Gideon and Manoah ; and then he
says how many things we can look back upon in
Ufe, and see God with us. Amongst others he
instances the school we were sent to as chUdren ;
the occasion of our faUing in with those persons
who have most benefited us. This almost made
my voice falter, when I thought of Winchester and

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE lH28-ia47. 269
the inestimable blessing of your friendship. In that
chapel I received my first Communion. It seems
as though it had been an anchor to my soul when
tossed by more storms than even you can tell. I
look back with amazement to the interval between
my first admission to such a Avonderfril privilege,
and the time Avlien religion really seemed to take
some hold upon me. I do not know whether I
have ever had the same strength of faith and love
that I then had ; but assuredly for many, many sad
years of a sinful and comparatively godless hfe I
had not. It was not without deep emotion, there
fore, that I looked upon that place, that very
altar, where, as it seemed, God plucked me as a
brand from the burning ! Would that I had never
looked back from that hour ! I was quite upset
by excitement during that Winchester visit, but I
hope it may be profitable to me.
From the chapel we went to the cloisters, where
we saw Mrs. Wordsworth's grave. We had seen
her as a beautiful girl, just emerging into woman
hood, shortly before her marriage. What a lesson
for us not to fix our affections here !
We then went to the school ; you had told
me of our seat being removed. I am sincerely
sorry for it. As we wished to attend the cathedral
service we did not go over commoners on the Tues
day, but I just walked as far as the bishop's
palace and into the garden, almost as coolly as

270 MEMOIR.
we used to do when we took possession of his
parlour as our House of Commons.
To the same.
'¦ Presbyterian Eights Asserted,' '
Lincohi's Inn : November 25, 1839.
You have spoiled a joke of mine by your
letter of to-day. I only got ' Presbyterian Eights '
on Friday evening, and meant to have written on
Saturday a furious critique upon it, but in term
time I have hardly a moment to myself; and
to-day, when I was going to scribble a few hnes
for the same purpose, I got your letter, and I can
therefore no longer assume ignorance of the author
ship. Hall sent me the pamphlet as a present from
himself, but I had not read five lines without find
ing out the author. I think you would find it
difficult to take me in, and especiaUy if you will
put in old jokes about ' an examining master, plus
a proctor,' and eulogise Palmer.^ Not that I
mean to say Palmer can find no one else to eulogise
him. Dr. Pusey^ has done so in his admirable
letter, with the whole of which I cordially sympa
thise, except, perhaps, the parts as to the invoca-
1 Title of an anonymous pamphlet by Dr. Hook. For an account
of it, see his Life, pp. 267-272, small edition, and vol. i, pp. 461-470.
^ W. Palmer, author of Origines lAturgicee.
^ A letter to the Bishop of Oxford on ' Tendencies to Romanism.'

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 271
tion of saints and prayers for the dead ; but the
spfrit of the whole is beautiful. This is, however,
a parenthesis. Seriously, I much like your vindi
cation ofthe priesthood, which has, no doubt, been
rendered more necessary by the Oxford writers
haAdng somewhat too highly exalted the episcopate.
There is much material for thought, too, in your
point as to the domestic Church. The view you
take is, I think, the only sound one against priest
craft on the one hand, and fanatic assumption of
the priestly office by laymen on the other. To
speak candidly, I have thought the tendency of
the Oxford school somewhat too strong to the
former error. Compulsory confession has led to
an entire invasion of the rights of the paterfamilias
by the Eoman priest.
Could I have seen your httle work, however,
before its pubhcation, I should have liked to re
commend the omission of one or two matters, and
the softening of others ; for instance, even your
joke about the ' examining master, plus a proctor,'
is tacked on to an offensive epithet of a 'high
Establishment prelate,' and, being told as of a
living person, that person wiU be justly annoyed
at the epithet thus affixed to him. The portion,
too, as to the Bible Society meeting, evidently
aUudes to some threatened annoyance you have
anticipated on the part of your own bishop, and
assumes somewhat of a personal character of com-

272 MEMOIR,
plaint. Now, in exact proportion as any part of
your argument can be represented as personal,
it AvUl lose the weight attached to calm and well-
considered observations and reflections. The work
Avill do good, however. What most disturbs me
is that it may do you harm ; and, as it may tend to
shake the apparent good feehng between you and
your bishop, it wiU, to that extent, be injurious to
your pubhc usefulness. To the same.
Lukewarmness in Eeligion, — The Life and Character
OF Luther. Tenby : October 9, 1840.
... It strikes me fearfuUy in our towns that
we see very few of the lowest poor in our churches.
In this httle place, for instance, I do not think I
have seen one fisherman, though there are hundreds,
I suppose, in the town. And, on the other hand, it
strikes me no less fearfuUy that, judging by the
deadness of the responses, so few amongst the
higher classes appear to have been instructed as
they ought to be, or to be aware of the blessings
and priAdleges they possess. The non-attendance
at the Lord's Table is, of course, a yet more awful
proof of this. To the rising generation we must
look ; and, thank God, our National and Sunday
schools wiU, I believe, by His blessing be a means of

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 273
preparing the poor and shaming the rich tiU they
awake from their deadly torpor. It is a fearful
state to be ' neither hot nor cold,' which is, I appre
hend, the state of the large mass of the middle-aged
population of our country. On this account one
feels the stfrring of the waters by the Oxford men
to be most healthy, though I am not inchned to call
them individuaUy ' Eabbi.' I long to read Sewell's
book, and hope to do so when I get home. I will
get Poole's also. We have been reading here a
very iU- written 'History of the Eeformation' by
D'Aubigne, a Genevese pastor, but valuable from its
full details, from original sources, of Luther's history.
In fact, it may be called a life of Luther, and it is, of
course, a panegyric ; but, at the same time, his
faults are not the less apparent because the writer
happens to take them for Adrtues. I must say, how
ever, that, on the whole, I rise with a deep impres
sion of the piety and fervent love of God and of our
blessed SaAdour which alone can have upheld
Luther in his arduous struggle. His celebrated
answer at the Diet of Worms when called on for
the third time to retract, and brought before the
greatest of earthly potentates, Charles V., and aU
the pomp of the Eoman nuncio, and of the mitred
as well as lay sovereigns of the German States, is
one of the finest events in history : ' I stand here
and can give no other answer, God help me !
Amen.' This too when he well knew that, only a
Vol, L T

274 MEMOIR.
few years before, John Huss had been delivered up
to the stake, notwithstanding the Emperor's safe-
conduct. Luther struggled long also not to break
with the Church. Every step he took was, as it
were, forced on him. His journey in early Ufe to
Eome taught him that the cardinals were infidels,
and he shrank with a child's simphcity and horror
(he was but twenty-four or twenty-five years old)
from their impious conversation. One tract which
he prepared, but never pubUshed, owing to the
scandal it would create, related to some of their
most dreadful deeds of darkness. One cannot
wonder that he saw Antichrist on the Eoman
throne. No doubt Luther has many and grave
offences to ansAver for ; but who can read of him
without feeling that he himself is liable to the same
sins, and falls far below his exalted Adrtues ?
To the same.
Lack of Leisure. — The Principle wmcH should
GUIDE Electors,
Lincoln's Inn : November 14, 1840.
... I have, as you desired me, bought
Poole's book (' Cyprian '). When I shall read it, is
quite another matter. Jennings, too, has promised
to lend me the ' British Magazine ' containing the
articles on the Poor. I do not take in any
periodicals, for I should be sorely tempted to read

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 275
them, and yet I know that I have no right so to •
enjoy myself. When I look sometimes even on my
own small Ubrary I feel that it is a daily self-
denial that one exercises in devoting so much time
to the labours of life, and I trust I do not deceive
myself when I conclude that a sense of duty, and
not a love of money, impels me to my work. There
is, unhappily, no medium in our profession. You
cannot say, ' I wUl give up so much time to my
profession, and so much to other pursuits.' It re
quires unquahfied submission to its demands on your
time, and you Avould not merely lose money but
break faith Avith those who entrust their interests
to your charge if you hesitated to bestow your
undivided energies on their protection.
In the midst of my work, however, I managed
to get to Cambridge on Wednesday last.^ The
Vice-ChanceUor rose for the day to facihtate the
departure of the Bar ; he himself and the majority
of our fraternity going for Lord Lyndhurst. I was,
as you may suppose, in the minority. I confess,
after your letter as to the High Church portion of
the clergy, and after hearing that Baptist Noel and
Cunningham had also taken up the contest as one
of principle, I did not expect quite so sound a
thrashing; and I question the wisdom of Lord
Lyttelton's committee in going to the poll, though I
do not personaUy regret that nearly five hundred
• To vote for the election of ChanceUor of the University.
T 2

276 MEMOIR.
votes, together with my own, were recorded against
the flagrant sin of exalting a man for the sake of
party. I think, if I know anything of myself, I
should not have voted for Lord Lyndhurst had he
been a Whig, the post being merely one of honour.
The case of a member of Parhament is different :
he is the instrument by which alone as an elector
you can ensure the advancement of your pohtical
views ; and you have to balance whether A., person
aUy good, but supporting (as you think) most
mischievous pubhc measures, is to be preferred to
B., personally bad, but supporting the most bene
ficial course for your country. You are not doing evil
that good may ensue, but are compeUed to an un
pleasant choice between two evUs. Now, nothing
of this sort is applicable to our late contest.
To the same.
Tract 90 and the Tractarlans.
Dean's Yard: March 18, 1841.
... I have been much vexed at this Tract
90 business. I have not yet read it, and do not,
of course, judge by extracts ; but the censure it
has called forth from authority is at all events a
proof to me of its being injudicious, to say the
least of it, and I shaU have great difficulty in
believing it (from its subject) to be necessary,
though I doubt not Newman thinks so, I have
read his letter, beautifuUy expressed, as is every-

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 277
thing Avhich he Avrites, and one is unwilling to
suppose so holy a man to be in error, and it
perhaps argues a want of humility in me to judge
of him at all. But my fear about the Oxford men
is, and has been, that, shut up in a limited society,
they wiU have a tendency to fanaticism which
more intercourse Avith our feUow-creatures softens.
The more I see of these matters, the more I
am convinced that society is the proper sphere of
man, and that aU recluse habits are mischievous.
I was amused to see you denounced, in a letter in
the ' Morning Chronicle,' as the ' real author of
Puseyism.' Wliat a pity it was not caUed
' Hookism,' and what a decided ' Hookite ' I
should have been, whereas I am but a half-and-
half Puseyite ! Seriously, I am much vexed at the
tendency to schism in all ultra proceedings, and
such, I think, many of the Oxford party to be
pushing on.
A late number of the ' British Critic ' la
mented that our prayers were not in Latin. Such,
at least, was its tendency ; nor can I at aU foUow
the doctrine about reserve.^ I find none in St.
Peter's sermon on the day of Pentecost, nor even
in St. Paul's sermons before heathen governors and
heathen people. He told them the great but
startling truth of the Eesurrection of Christ and of
• On ' Reserve in communicating Religious Truth,' by the Rev.
Isaac Williams, one of the ' Tracts for the Times.'

278 MEMOIR,
His being our judge, nor is there any reason to
suppose that he kept back the Atonement because
he does not mention it in his first-recorded address.
He makes a boast to the elders of Ephesus that
he had kept back nothing from them, and seems
to direct them to deal with their flocks in the same
way. To the same.
After the Consecration of Leeds Parish Church,
Reading : September 16, 1841.
How can I express all the mingled feelings of
the past week in which, assuredly, great thankful
ness to God should be predominant ! Such a day
as Thursday I have never known. I do believe
that of the immense multitude which was then
assembled in God's presence there were few whose
hearts could be insensible to the blessing vouch
safed them, and I think that the setting forth of
His honour and glory was the first aspiration of
aU our hearts. At the subsequent meeting I own
I felt a more earthly satisfaction in the weU-
deserved homage paid to my oldest and dearest
friend, not unmingled, perhaps, with something
beyond complacency that he was my friend ; but,
if in any undue excess, assuredly my pride was
sufficiently humbled by the comparison of my own
uselessness with the work that you have been
permitted to do in our Master's service in building
up not only the material fabric, but the spiritual

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 279
edifice of the Church. May God's blessing rest,
my dearest friend, upon these and all your labours !
I should much have hked to remain over the
Friday, but it Avas as Avell, perha]3s, tliat I did not.
I Avas very nearly knocked up when I reached the
railway on Thursday evening. What must you
and your dear wife be ! but special strength seems
given for special occasions. I am sure I shall
never forget her quiet, cheerful reception of all of
us, her somewhat troublesome guests.
To the same.
Tract 90.
Lincoln's Inn : November 26, 1841.
. . , The more I think of Tract 90 — and I
have lately thought of it much — the less I like it.
It requires one almost to know Newman personally
not to feel great indignation at the sophistical
explanation of subscription to the Articles, which
may really mean anything if they mean what he
says. I am, however, content and thankful to
beheve that the author of the most heart-stirring
and deep-searching sermons I ever read is a single-
hearted man ; but I think that the Tract has done
infinite mischief, which, however, was begun by
the pubhcation of Fronde's ' Eemains.' With all
his extravagant faults, I believe that Luther was
single-hearted, and it was this alone that gave him
such power ; and though I by no means regard

280 MEMOIR,
sincerity as an excuse for error, yet I think
straightforwardness in error far less mischievous
than casuistry. I beheve Newman's Tract to have
been meant for others, rather than as expressing
that he himself holds all the doctrines whicli he
says may be held consistently with the Articles.
I suspect that he saw much to dread in the hot
headed young men who have only just had their
eyes opened to the evils of ultra Protestantism, and
are inchned to be bhnd to the deformities of
Popery, if not to rush headlong into it. Young
men are usuaUy honest, and he was afraid of their
foUoAving out some of the principles of Proude,
and that, finding the Articles to be framed by those
whom Froude so abundantly vihfies, they would
think it inconsistent to subscribe to them.
I confess I do not much hke the expostulations
in the ' Lyra Apostohca ' with the Church of Eome ;
their tone is too deprecatory. AU this, my dearest
friend, I say to you, though I have too much of
your own feehng, as to turning round Avith the
popular tide, to admit so much to others. I feel
daily more and more thankful that as a Cathohc
I, with God's blessing, am determined to follow
no man — no one man, I mean. The Bible and
Prayer Book seem to me the real guides for an
unlearned Christian, and amongst such I must,
alas ! reckon myself, such being the state of edu
cation in our Christian country. I think it would

DIARY^ AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 281
be well if the study of the Fathers were made a
part of our education. Even supposing (which,
however, we will not admit) that the Greek of
Chrysostom, or the Latin of Augustine or Cyprian,
would corrupt our classical taste, yet what is that
in comparison Avith the corruption of our hearts
by the false notions of true glory and true happi
ness instUled into us by the pages of heathen
authors, unsanctified and uncorrected by any
hoher studies ? To the same.
Froude's 'Eemains.'
Lincoln's Inn : January 22, 1842.
. , . One of my main reasons for writing is
to say how truly dehghted I am with your letter
to the bishop.-^ It is most gratifying to me to find
that we do not disagree on such aU-important sub
jects, but, as my instruction came first from you,
it is not, perhaps, very likely that we should. Still,
I confess your enthusiasm which led you to stick
to NeAvman after No. 90, though I thought it but
chivafrous feehng, seeing that he was unjustly
abused, and not exphcit assent to aU the notions in
said 90 contained, had somewhat alarmed me. I
have, since the pubhcation of Froude's ' Eemains,'
been on my guard against Newman. I mean not
^ Letter to the Bishop of Ripon ' On the State of Parties in the
Church of England.' See Life of Br. Hook, vol. i. p. 74, and 323,
small edition.

282 ^ MEMOIR
as to his honesty, but as to his judgment. Froude,
an intemperate young man, led fearfully astray in
early youth, by God's grace wonderfully reclaimed,
and no doubt a saint in heaven, chooses to scribble
a number of crude notions about the Eeforma
tion, amongst other things, and leave them unpub
lished, and then Newman must needs fire off all
these combustibles. The starthng notion, the re
serve notion, and several others I confess I object
to. People are not to be set raving for fear they
should go to sleep, nor to be starved for fear they
should take poison. There was a shght want of
humility, I think, in all this, and I question also
whether anonymous tracts on such important sub
jects should be issued by sober-minded men at all.
I think your letter wiU do very great good, though
the zealots on both sides Avill abuse it. It is to
myself personally a great comfort. Alas ! the
Church is indeed in a sad state ; but the storm may
be necessary for the purifying of the waters, and
is, I admit, better than the duU, and slimy, and
deathlike stagnation that preceded it.
To the same.
Sudden Conversion less trustworthy than gradual.
Hatherley : August 28, 1843.
... I do not know that I should have
written so soon but for your interesting account of

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 283
Ml'. Aitken. It seems but the other day that I
saAv his name placarded all over Westminster as
about to preach in some Methodist chapel. I am
truly glad that he has noAV received a commission
for the edification of the Church, but I candidly
confess that I am not sanguine of those who in a
week have been brought to pour out their hearts
to him in confession. Neither, until I know the
cfrcumstances, can I judge whether the young man
you mention ought to have given up his 300Z. a
year. Any scheme which you on deliberation
approve, you know it will be a privilege to me to
be permitted to aid in ; but I hope you wUl not
think me cold-hearted if I cannot at once feel
confidence in those Avho have lately undergone a
considerable change of opinion, nor should I have
chosen such a one for my confessor. Greatly,
indeed, do I rejoice in his zeal, and in God's mercy
and grace in dfrecting it aright, and I quite feel,
with you, that a little ' ultraism ' is desirable in this
Laodicean age ; but one never feels sure where the
change is sudden, and not the result of progressive
conviction, strengthened by progressive perseve
rance of action. At the same time there is, I
beheve, more disciphne and regularity and restraint
in Methodism than in the other lawless sects, so
that probably the change is not so violent as it
must be from any other class of Dissenters. I
would rather have seen Mr. Aitken your curate for a

284 MEMOIR.
while. In the meantime it is a great mercy for
such a place as Leeds to be stirred up to thinh,
and if the little ones are brought to the font, and
some stop put to the inroads which Satan is making
amidst the heathen population, the unbaptised
youth of our large towns, much may yet be hoped
for. I should have doubted whether his congre
gation were yet prepared for daily Communion.
Has the demand come from them ? I by no means
concur in the absurd notion of some of our com
mercial legislators that the demand should precede
the supply in spiritual things ; but I do think that,
where the means of grace are supplied and used in
weekly or monthly Communion, the fitness of the
congregation for more extended privileges would
be best CAdnced by their desiring it themselves.
To the same.
' The effectual fervent Prayer of a righteous Man
availeth much,' Bealmgs : August 30, 1843.
, . , We have, as you may suppose, been
watching in the papers with some anxiety the pro
ceedings in the manufacturing districts, and truly
thankful have we been to see that you have
hitherto escaped the incursions of the misguided
mobs that are parading the country all around
you. I do not apprehend any serious injury to

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 285
you or yours personaUy, but any interruption of
the labour of your population must bring with it
many disastrous consequences, and add tenfold to
the calamities which poverty entails on so many of
your parishioners. They seem to have evinced
hitherto much patient forbearance at Leeds, and I
trust that your efforts have, by God's blessing,
been of great service in promoting good order
dfrectly ; but far more efficacy I attribute to the
indfrect consequences of the prayers and faithful
ness of real Christians. To nothing else is it owing,
in my firm behef, that we are spared as a nation,
and permitted to prosper, in spite of grievous sins
in aU shapes, amounting to almost national offence.
ThankfuUy ought we to remember that Sodom
would have been spared for the sake of ten righ
teous men. To the same.
Thoughts retrospective and introspectia^e.
Beatings : September 11, 1844.
... I grieve to say that my poor, dear
uncle is in a state which makes me very anxious ;
for though he rides a httle and walks about, yet
stUl there is evidently disease of an alarming
character about the brain ; but God's will be done.
I learn, I hope, daUy to say this entirely from the
heart, and to look for any rest where alone it can
be found. I weU recoUect that (as in aU spiritual

286 MEMOIR.
things), you not only greatly helped, but first gave
me the right impulse in this matter. It seemed to
you, I dare say, a smaU thing, and you forget it ;
but ' a word in season, how good is it ! ' Some years
ago, ten or twelve perhaps, I was talking of my
working hard and hoping some day to retfre as my
greatest ambition. You said : ' You are looking for
a time to rest, and when that comes it wiU be time
for you to be taken away.' I felt it to be very
true, and more especiaUy for one who had sd>
horribly wasted his youth as I had ; and indeed I
daily more and more learnt, and have stiU to learn,
how fearfully I sought my OAvn ends, my own
comfort and indulgence, in everything ; and I do
reaUy beheve now that I have almost got over my
wish to retire, or wishing indeed anything, which
is a most foolish and morbid exercise of the mind.
I now rather expect than otherwise that each day
wiU bring fresh trials, and pray earnestly I may be
dfrected and guided in them to do my Master's
work aright, and to seek His glory in all my doings,
and most chiefly to set it forth by love to my
fellow creatures. In truth, I can hardly tell you
what a self loathing my selfishness gives me, when
I think of it in all its past activity, and when I see
it breaking out in almost all my first impulses still.
I should be ashamed to teU you, or any human
being, one tenth part of the first thoughts that
occur to me daily on the passing circumstances of

DIARY' AND COKRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 287
the day — so utterly selfish are thej' — aud most truly
may I know that it is only by God's unspeakable
grace that any good thing is in me !
I can weU imagine what passes in your mind
in these affecting confidences which are reposed in
you ; but the sense of the comfort which, by your
sympathy and experience, you are able to give,
must be a great consolation. I often feel that I
would give worlds to be of any use extensively to
my fellow sinners ; but am quite aware of my in
competency, and, yet more, of my unworthiness for
the task, and am not at all depressed, as I used to
be, by the sense of my unprofitableness, knoAving
how merciful the check is to my own most in
veterate love of praise, and being confident that He
who has so wonderfully spared me hitherto avUI
not forsake me, nor suffer me to perish, if I but
trust in Him and not in my own strength.
To the same.
Expected Secession of J. H. Newman,
Lincoln's Inn : November 23, 1844.
. . . What a terrible business this is about
Newman ! for none seem to doubt that it may be
very near the truth. The comfort of Cathohc
doctrine, when well understood, is that it is the
Church, and no individual of the Church, that we
rely on as our guide ; but those who know nothing

288 MEMOIR.
of this as yet, and Avhom one would Avish to
perceive it, are just the people whoAvUl be kept ofl
from the right track by such an alarm. However,
God orders all as seemeth Him good, and deeply
humbled ought one to be when one so every way
above us is permitted to faU into error.
To the same.
Dr, Arnold. Beatings : December 26, 1844.
. . , I have read bits of the ' Life of Arnold,'
which have interested me much. His one great
fault seems to have been self-confidence. How
difficult it is to steer between that rock and the
shoals and shaUows of adopting the opinions of
aU whom we associate Avith ! The Church alone
seems to afford a resting point between the two
extremes, or rather, to continue the metaphor, the
' Via Media.' He felt the necessity of a Church ;
but, whilst he would ' lengthen the cords,' he
forgot the necessity of ' strengthening the stakes.'
Nor can I conceive how, if pushed upon the point,
he would have drawn his Une which excluded the
Unitarians from his ideal of a Christian Church.
Nevertheless, it is impossible not to love the man,
though one rejects Avith repugnance his theories ;
and, as the first to Christianise our pubhc schools,
the future generations wUl owe him a deep debt of
gratitude.

DIARY'' AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 289
To the same.
Quietness the Strength of the Church.
12 Great George Street : January 26, 1846.
... I viiideavour to think only in prayer of
the sad divisions in the Church ! I am deter
mined to read fcAver books than ever on disputed
points, and the Bible more. I have not read
Ward's book, therefore ; indeed, its length would
render it impossible to do so. I think they are
wrong at Oxford in endeavouring to fix bad faith
on him in their censure, whether they be right or
not in censuring him.-^ I read Gladstone's review
in the ' Quarterly,' Avhich seemed to me admirably
done, as far as one who had not read the book
could judge. A little quiet parish work, each man
in his own parish, would be better, I think, just now
than aU the volumes of pamphlets. Our strength
is to sit still. To the same.
Prayer. — Baptismal G-race. — Illness of Sm "W,
Follett.
Lincoln's Inn : June 27, 1845.
. . . What an awful thought it is that prayer
is so often (apparently) unavailing with reference
to the spfritual condition of others ! The under
valuing of baptismal priAoleges has, I fear, done
1 See Life of Br. Hook, vol. i. pp. 185-189, and 391-394 small
edition.
Vol. I. U

290 MEMOIR.
much towards the hardening of men's hearts
against the consequences of wilful sin after baptism.
The anti-baptismal (rather than anabaptismal)
heresy has been very deadly, and the denjdng
of regeneration can be deemed httle less. When
any worldly evils attend a" fall from hohness, all can
sympathise, as in the case of a lost woman ; but
the first presumptuous sin of any kind is no less
fearful, and yet in a few weeks, sometimes hours, is
forgotten ; and those who have often hed, acted
selfishly, or otherAvise polluted thefr baptismal robe,
it is supposed, may at once be restored noteven by
an act, but by a feeling of faith. Those fearful
instances of the result of single acts of disobedience
in our first parents, in Esau, in Eeuben, in Saul,
and others, nay even in God's saints, as in the case
of Moses, are rarely brought before men's minds.
But I do not know how I came to ramble on upon
this topic, except that it is Friday, when I feel that
my own sins are ' more in number than the hafrs
of my head,' and they sometimes ' take such hold
upon me that I am not able to look up.' I much
need all your prayers for a heart of flesh and not
of stone. . . .
FoUett^ is, I fear, rapidly sinking. I cannot
say what interest I have felt in his case. In
every qualification of intellect and grace of manner
' Sir William Webb Follett, Attorney-General, died soon after the
date of this letter.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 291
he was as perfect as man can be, and at an un
usually early age had the highest post in his pro
fessional career apparently Avithin his grasp. Since
his first attack, more than a year ago, I have not
ceased to pray daUy for him. His wife, too, is so
very interesting a person, in her quiet earnest sup-
phcations, which one must feel sure were constantly
oflered ; and I know no feUowship so close as that
of communion of prayer, though she will probably
never dream that we have been thinking of her or
of her husband. To the same.
Effects of Eomanism on the Character.
Lincoln's Inn : October 25, 1845.
... I cannot compare Newman to Athana-
sius. I think his case much more like John
Wesley's — I mean so far as it is presented to our
judgment, for I dare not, of course, say anything of
his internal guidance.
I cannot but fear that others are imbued with
the deadly taint of Eomanism. I mean that poison
which perverts the uprightness and candour of the
mind, and aUows people to think themselves honest
when they are speaking only half their real
thoughts, and that in such a way as to mislead
those who are not aware of the concealed purpose.
The Itahan character pervades the Enghsh Eoman
ists. If they went to Germany, or perhaps even to
U 2

292 MEMOIR.
France, for their education,. it would be far better,
for the German character is frank, hke that of the
Enghsh. No. 90 shook my confidence in the party to the
foundation. To the same.
Newspaper "Warfare. — The Church and Schismatics,
Lincoln's Inn : November 11, 1845.
... I have been surprised that Pusey should
write letters in the papers ;  's doing so did not
surprise me, for his conceit is such that he would
be very sensitive to the world's opinion. Even as
an individual I should never notice newspaper
abuse ; but, as representing a body of Churchmen,
a man should be very careful not to recognise the
newspaper jurisdiction.
I always loved that text ' Thefr strength is to
sit stiU,' and I am sure there never was a time
when it was more necessary to bear this in mind.
No abuse can make truth less truth ; but it may
make us more humble, and this wiU be the better
for us. To confuse Churchmen with the Eomish
schismatics will, of course, be Satan's principal
device just now ; but we know our weapons, which
are ' not carnal ' (newspapers, reviews, or pam
phlets), ' but spiritual,' namely mortification and
prayer, and these will yet be ' mighty to the puUing
down of strongholds.' The most humbling circum-

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 293
stance to my mind is the wandering of such a man
as NcAAmian. . . . Perhaps it is intended to show
us the fearful extent of the ' Paul and ApoUos '
system. Ward scrupled not to avow that he
foUowed NcAvman. The great beauty of the
Church system is that you foUow principles worked
out by holy men at the time they were under the
direct guidance of the Holy Spirit, Whom we must
beheve to guide the Church, and all its authorised
branches, in their solemn deliberations ; whilst
those who have joined the foreign schismatics have
mostly foUowed an individual who is, of course,
subject to aU the weaknesses of our nature, and
may, for aught we can teU, have taken the first
decisiA-e step in a moment of weakness.
To Mrs. Charles Stephens.
Advice to a Unitarian in search of religious
Truth,
12 Great George Street : Sunday, December 14, 1845.
My dearest Sister, — ... I sit down to talk
with you a httle on paper as I should do if you
were present. Nor is the day unsuited to the
subject of your last letter, which greatly interested
me. After the enjoyment of the infinite blessings
provided for us by the Church in her services, I
do, indeed, from the bottom of my heart, sympa-

294 MEMOIR,
thise with those yearnings of your afflicted friend
after something positive. She will not, I feel
assured, discover it in the wild schemes of Eouge,
or the other Pohsh leader of the German move-
meiiit, whose name I forget. They have, like John
Wesley and so many others, and hke those who
tore the Church to pieces of old — such as Arius,
Donatus, and other leading schismatics — separated
from the Church Cathohc, instead of endeavouring
to reform and purify her from within. This
naturally places them in antagonism to her. They
wUl begin by professing, probably sincerely, a
hatred only of the impurities and follies which they
Avitness in that portion of the Church to which they
belong ; they will also profess, and probably at first
exhibit, great moral personal purity, and personal
piety, — no leaders of a schism ever succeeded with
out doing so ; but presently it will be assumed that
the Church is radically and hopelessly corrupt ; that
they, the new apostles, are eminently the reverse ;
personal vanity wUl make sad inroads on their
personal piety ; and, as thefr followers increase, they,
too, will become, as the Church whence they pro
ceeded, a mixed body of good and bad ; but having
no principle of union, and being, indeed, founded
on a principle of separation, they will never have
any power of reforming themselves, but will sub
divide into innumerable lesser sects and schisms.
The fundamental error is that which I at first

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 295
mentioned — the not seeing that it is our plain duty
not to rend Christ's garment. They really seem as
if, in their horror ofthe mockery of the Holy Tunic
exhibited at Treves (Avhich occasioned the Avhole
movement), they had imbibed an equal horror of
the beautiful type of the garment Avithout seam.
If I had the misfortune of being born under a
tyrannical government I should not endeavour to
destroy it by rebelhon, but to remove the evil by
every lawfrU means that was left. Still more in the
Church Avhich Christ plainly meant to be a visible
one (the parable of the net of good and bad fishes,
of the tares and wheat, which were to grow to
gether tiU the harvest, are proofs of this), our plain
duty is, with an humble spirit, to endeavour to
reform the existing CAdl on a principle of union,
and not of separation. The unexampled mercy to
our Enghsh Church has been, that she, a branch of
the Church Catholic, did so reform herself, neither
cUd she ever separate herself from the rest of the
Church Catholic. She rejected the usurpations of
Papal dominion ; and the Pope, therefore, refused to
communicate with her, and influenced those under
his sway in doing so ; but our clergy have still
been received, and have actuaUy officiated, in the
Eastern branches of the Church Cathohc. You
cannot point to any Church in England from which
we separated ; for down to the tenth of Ehzabeth
all Churchmen frequented the Eeformed worship. It

296 MEMOIR.
was one whole body, as it had ever been ; but about
that time the Pope sent, not Enghshmen, but
foreign priests and foreign bishops who did not
even dare (and do not to this day) to take the title
of Enghsh Sees (for they were full), but who
preached and taught schismatically the doctrines
of the synod of Trent, and founded not a Church,
but the Papal schism in our country. Then came
the Puritans, who broke off, hke Eouge, in pretence
of the impurities of the Enghsh Church — and see
the consequence ; they became Presbyterians, the
Presbyterians spht into Independents, then into
Arian and Socinian congregations, whilst, the prin
ciple of union being lost sight of, up sprung
innumerable sects of Anabaptists, Quakers, Mora
vians, Brownists, &c.
As Mrs.  feels, all these rely on something
negative. They are smaU fragments, becoming
daily smaller and smaller, for want of any principle
of cohesion ; while amidst all her trials the Church
of England holds to Cathohc truth, and is largely
spread over America and our colonies, and seems to
be gathering new strength ; for the blessing of God
on His Apostles, ' Lo, I am with you tiU the end of
the world,' is with her as a part of the Divine in
corporation. They then represent the Church of aU
ages ; our creeds are those of the Church Catholic ;
our prayers are those which have been offered for
at least fifteen hundred years, the greater part of

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847, 297
them by the Church Cathohc ; and also all our
Communion service, Avherebj^ we become, as the
Apostle strongly expresses it, of ' His flesh and of
His bones,' is an identical service Avith that of the
Eastern Churches from the earliest ages. I never
can join in it without feehng that our Church
mUitant is one Avith that which is triumphant, with
those innumerable saints who have offered the
same praise, joined in the same prayers, had the
same faith, the same hope, the same means of grace ;
in short, have had ' one Lord, one faith, one baptism,
one God and Father of all.'
I do not see so much to fear as many do in this
step of Newman and others. I deeply lament it
for thefr sakes, not for the Church, which can never
depend on indiAdduals, but rests on Christ's promises
to the whole body. There are strong rumours of
the Pope's intention to give way in some points ;
the marriage of the clergy and restoration of the
cup to laity are spoken of. I think that earnest
men hke NcAvman and others may facilitate this,
though nothing can justify thefr leaving their own
Church ; but I should be most happy, and rejoice
to see the Eoman branch of the Church Cathohc
(for a branch, though foul and sadly bhghted, she is)
purifying itself, or rather imploring the Heavenly
Husbandman to purge her, that she may bring forth
much fruit. This would be hfe from the dead ; but
Eouge's movement is the galvanising of a dead

298

MEMOIR.

body. I think one leading mistake in aU persons
who run into schism is the forgetting the parable
of the good and bad fishes, the corn and the tares,
which are to be in the ' Kingdom of God ' — for that
is the subject of comparison — till the day of judg
ment. To find, therefore, bad men and bad practices
in a Church is no sign of its not being the true
Church, but exactly the reverse ; for it Avould not
answer the prophetic description of the Kingdom
of God were it otherAvise constituted. The Holy
Tunic of Treves and aU its mummery was a very
bad practice, but no matter of principle of the
Eoman Church as such. I hope yet to see some
Pope or zealous Eomanist arise to wash away by
lawful authority within their Church the cobwebs
that so much obscure the real beaiity ofit ; for, after
all, it is a wonderful thing, that branch of the
Church Catholic which has had its successors at
Eome from the time of the Apostles. In the mean
time we should be most grateful that Ave have, by
lawful authority of the Church itself, removed these
impurities. It has never been doubted that each
national branch of the Chui'ch Catholic has full
power over everything but articles of faith ; and not
one article of faith has our Church altered, as
determined by the General Councils before the
separation of the Eastern and Western Churches
from communion with each other, since Avhich
time no General Council has been or could be held.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 299
As regards your excellent friend, I trust it may
please God under her circumstances to turn her
thoughts more to her own personal state than the
outward distinctions around her. She took a right
course in following the vicAvs of her parents, who
are our lawful instructors till we are of age to
judge for ourselves. Such is the evident order of
God's providence. She was placed in difficulty, no
doubt, by this system ; not only cold in its negative
views, but so singularly irreconcUable with Scrip
ture that when Priestley was pressed with the
numerous assertions of Christ's Divinity in St.
•John's Gospel, he said ' he would rather believe
the old Apostle was dozing than that he meant so
and so ; ' but our blessed Lord, who is all compas
sion, well knows and estimates her difficulties ; and
if she, with the simphcity of a httle child, wUl grasp
firmly the great leading truths of His death for us,
showing His unbounded love, and His resurrection,
shoAving His equally unbounded power, and will
pray earnestly for His assistance by the Holy
Spirit to enable her to do this, she AviU, I am sure,
experience more soUd comfort than she can ever
do by inquiring after systems of doctrine. ' He
who doeth my Father's avUI shall know of the doc
trine ' is always to my mind a strong discourage
ment of speculative, and encouragement to practical,
Christianity. Now, part of that wiU was ' that all
men should honour the Son even as they honour

300 MEMOIR.
the Father.' Only let her try to do this, and she wiU
find it a better mode of clearing difficulties than
reading any author — nay, even than reading the
Book itself. It is wonderful what peace my uncle
found in simply expressing his love and trust in
Christ as redeeming him on the Cross, and rising
again, as evidence of His power.
Alas ! I am most unfit to teach any or to pray
for any ; but your friend wiU ever be in my thoughts
and prayers ; and may we all, my dearest sister, be
gathered together Avithin His fold Who, knowing us
sinners as we are, can yet love us with a love pass
ing all understanding ! I feel deeply all you say
about society, and my own fearful danger and
weakness is constantly present to me ; but it is a
plain duty to associate with those of our OAvn
station in life, and we have a right, therefore, to
expect His blessing and protection whilst exposed
to the danger. To Mrs. C. Stephens.
Attitude of the Church towards 'Those that are
WITHOUT,'
Lincoln's Inn : January 29, 1846.
... I wish to say one word (which I have
not had time to do before) on Mrs.  's letter,
which I thought very interesting. It is clear, I
hope, that she is earnest ; and, if so, she must be

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 301
directed by God's Spirit, and, praying fervently, I
have no doubt she will be guided to the truth,
enabUng her to cast herself on the Saviour only,
which is the fundamental point. But I hope she
quite understood my letter as judging nobody. It
is not the province even of Church authority, much
less of individuals, to judge those who are out of
the Church. The Church only decides who do,
and who do not, belong to her own body. She
behoves that those who are in her body possess
great privileges, which she does not believe to be
distinctly promised to any out of her body ; but
she presumes not for a moment to say what the
Almighty wUl decide with reference to those who
are in that position. ' Who art thou that judgest
another man's servant ? ' should be always present
to the mind of every member of the Church. . . .
When I see others not enjoying my advantages, I
deeply regret it, for their sakes, and often, as I do in
your friend's case, think with shame, how much
better use they would make of them than I have
done. Her notion that you cannot stop short at our
Church, but must go to Eome, is a common one
with those who, like herself, are ignorant of the
subject from want of early instruction in it, practi
cally as weU as theoretically.

302 MEMOIR.
To the Rev. W. F. Hooh.
Obligations to Bishop Berkeley's Philosophy.
Matson : April 4, 1846.
... I read Bishop Berkeley, of course, in the
April number of the ' Ecclesiastical Biography.'^ I
feel how much I owe to that truly wise • man, or
rather should say, do not feel half of what I really
owe to him. Cambridge was a dangerous place
for a young, inquiring mind, and the philosophy
' falsely so called ' would have been singularly
dangerous to me had I not from a boy been imbued
Avith Berkeley's spiritual views. It is often sup
posed that his notions are pure theory : to me
they were singularly practical ; and I cannot say
how fixedly, in its worst state of sinfulness, my
mind clung to the reaUty and eternity of spiritual
things as being the ' ovtchs ovto. ; ' the only realities.
The miracles also which in youth (not childhood,
which is all beUeving) are a severe test of faith,
were always made so plain and easy to me on
Berkeley's views, who resolves all phenomena, into
the direct will of God, that I was saved from the
influence of works like Hume's. I have much to
answer for in not having been saved from other
sins, with all the helps I have received, but shaU
ever feel deeply grateful to Berkeley for the assist-
' Dictionary of Ecclesiastical Biography, edited hy Dr. Hook. It
originally came out in numbers. My uncle wrote the article on Bishop
Berkeley or it.

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 303
ance he has afforded me. Such men are hke tlie
pious Eastern sovereigns who dig wells and build
cisterns for the wayfaring traveller.
To the same.
Dr. Hook's Pamphlet on National Education.
12 Great George Street : July 21, 1840.
. . . You may suppose I have been thinking
much of the pamphlet.^ It is, I hear, in the third
edition. The ' Morning Chronicle ' of course
puffed it largely. The ' Athenasum ' of last Satur
day has an article and copious extracts. The
' John BuU,' I am told (by Joshua Watson), is very
fierce against you. I hope the pamphlet AviU do
good Avith the Whigs by its tone ; but I still remain
sceptical, as do many who do not abuse it, as to
the possibihty of finding a rehgious master who
AviU consent to play the part you assign him in a
Government school. Cotton, who spoke very fafrly
of it, said he could not conceive how history could
be taught on your plan ; as, for instance, what
answer would the master give to a boy Avho, in a
mixed school of papists and others, should ask
Avhether it Avas right to burn Cranmer? But a
much more serious difficulty, to my mind, is the
tone of the school generally.
^ Dr. Hook's ' Letter to the Bishop of St. Davids, How to render
more eflncient the education of the people. See Life, p. 403 seq.,
small edition, and vol. i. pp. 205-211.

304 MEMOIR.
You Avill rejoice in last night's division as to
the Welsh bishoprics, and still more at the tone
of Lords LansdoAvne and Grey, as compared Avith
Lord Stanley. To the same.
Casuistry. — An ex-General of the Franciscan
Order.
Beatings : January 4, 1847.
... It is difficult to determine whether
 be honest or not. If he be once entangled

in the Italian sophistry, he wUl not himself know.
I have just been reading a very curious book lent
me by an Itahan — an account by the ex-General
of the Franciscans (P. Capestieri) ; of his trial by
the Inquisition at Eome, by whom he was con
demned for fraudulently assisting an abbess in
pretensions to sanctity. I think it would be a
very useful thing to have extracts translated in
some review, as his narrative shows much of the
horrible perversion of truth common amongst
Eomanists. Amongst other things, the ex-General has a
lie pointed out in the examination of the aUeged
saint, and is asked how he can explain that con
sistently Avith her sanctity. His answer (which he
evidently thinks triumphant) is, that they have not
shown him the whole examination, to enable him
to judge of her intention in telhng the lie ; perhaps

DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 305
it Avas only an equivocation, &c., &c. In another
passage an intimate friend of his, a cardinal, one
of the Inquisitors, had denied receiving a letter
from him, on which he says : ' Pardon me, your
Eminence, your golden sincerity has been some
what clouded by the duties of your office. Your
Eminence does not he any naore than a confessor
who denies all knowledge of what he has learned
by confession only.' And then he proceeds to
prove that the letter was put into his Eminence's
hands and repeatedly referred to by him. It is
altogether a very curious book, and but few copies
are extant. . . .
WhUst reading your lecture on the ' Three
Eeformations,' I found the same view of the Tri-
dentine Eeformations in Eanke's ' History of the
Eeformation ' — a most interesting work. He says
(vol. i. p. 268), after speaking of the malpractices
at the time of Luther's rise : ' We must not con
found the tendencies of the period now before us
Avith those evinced in the doctrines and practices
estabhshed at the Council of Trent. At that time
even the party which adhered to Catholicism had
felt the influence of the epoch of the Eeformation,
and had begun to reform itself; the current was
afready arrested.' Then in a note he remarks :
' I hold it to be the fundamental error of Mohler's
"Symbohk" that he considers the dogma of the
CouncU of Trent as the doctrine from which the
vr^T T IC

306 MEMOIR.
Protestants seceded, whUst it is much nearer the
truth to say that itself produced Protestantism by
a reaction.' I have not the original, but Mrs.
Austin's translation — which makes the last words
awkward. I think he means that the dogma of
the Council of Trent was itself a protest, to a certain
extent, against the existing corruptions.
I think we now want a concise book, to be
called ' Eome, her Corruptions in Doctrine, Morals,
and Practice,' or some such title. In the first
would be put the objectionable parts of the creeds
of Pope Pius, the offensive litany to the Virgin,
and the like ; the extravagant views as to merits
and indulgences, and so on ; in the second, many
extracts might be made from Jesuit works approved
of at Eome, as is done by Pascal in his ' Provincial
Letters ; ' and in the third, the approbation of the
Massacre of Saint Bartholomew, the Marian perse
cution, the connexion of Jesuits with the Gun
powder Plot, the deification of very questionable
saints, and the like. To the same.
Cecil's 'Eemains.' — The Canon of Holy Scripture.
Brighton : April 10, 1847.
... On my way hither I read your ' Eccle
siastical Biography.' I am very glad to find you
do justice to Cecil. I think I told you of my
having found his ' Life and Eemains ' in my rooms

DL\RY AND CORRESPONDENCE 1828-1847. 307
at Cambridge, among my books. I never kncAv
hoAv it came there, and it did me infinite good at a
time Avhen I sadly needed it. I have a great love
and reverence for him.
I Avas thinking, the other daj', that it is a verj'
special Providence that amidst all the errors and
schisms of Protestantism, one most important
Catholic tradition has been held (except bj'
ITnitarians) in the canon of Scripture. It seems
the only truth held in common, and the addition
of the Apocrypha was a sadly schismatical act of
the Tridentine Synod.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

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